STORM-SWEPT 
 
 SAVED TO SERVE 
 
 BY 
 
 ESTELLA J. MILLS 
 
 BOSTON 
 JAMES H. EARLE, PI/BUSKER 
 
 178 WASIIIXGTON STREET 
 1897
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1896, 
 
 BY 
 JAMES H. EAKLE. 
 
 All Rights Reserved.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I. Alarm Number Sixty-Three 5 
 
 II. Led by a Dream 15 
 
 III. A Deed of Darkness 31 
 
 IV. A Rare Thanksgiving 46 
 
 V. The Struggle at the Spring 59 
 
 VI. A Fateful Storm 78 
 
 VII. The Accident on the Pond 100 
 
 VIII. Shipwrecked no 
 
 IX. Two Surprises 130 
 
 X. The Stolen Ride 146 
 
 XI. Confidences 159 
 
 XII. The Picnic at Echo Lake 168 
 
 XIII. The Dragon of Armadale 186 
 
 XIV. A Summer Night's Vigil 201 
 
 XV. An Episode at Rose Cliff 209 
 
 XVI. The Baron's Heir 223 
 
 XVII. Hope Crushed to Earth 233 
 
 XVIII. Unveiled by the Northern Lights 250 
 
 XIX. Nellie's New Idea 257 
 
 XX. A Chapter of Incidents 265 
 
 XXI. Katie Interviews Aunt Eunice 285 
 
 XXII. Mr. Dean hears Katie's Story 291 
 
 XXIII. The Mystery Unravelled 303 
 
 XXIV. All Things Come to Him who Patient Waits. . 320 
 
 203::
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ALARM NUMBER SIXTY-THREE. 
 
 " Hearts that are breaking and eyes that weep, 
 Sorrow and ruin and death are there." 
 
 EGINALD ! Reginald Dean ! Are you 
 making your will?" and Mrs. Dean 
 tapped with her slippered foot im- 
 patiently on the lower step of the 
 broad oaken staircase. 
 
 A glance within those heavy paneled doors 
 would have revealed to you a home of elegance 
 and refinement, well-fitting its location in aristo- 
 cratic Martin Square. It was, too, a home of 
 comfort wherein ever^ article, either useful or 
 ornamental, gave evidence that the mistress of 
 that domain was an adept in the art of arrange- 
 ment. The folds of the curtains hung with an 
 air of grace, each article of furniture and of bric- 
 a-brac stood at precisely the correct angle, thus
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 affording the most pleasing effect ; while, through- 
 out, the coloring harmonized most delightfully. 
 The graceful womanly figure poised on the lower 
 stair, though in an attitude of impatience, was in 
 full harmony with the surroundings as she stood 
 there under the soft light from the chandeliers, 
 while scintilating diamonds nestled in her raven 
 black hair. 
 
 " Reginald ! " again the musical voice rose witb 
 a trace of impatience. 
 
 " Coming, Ethel ! coming ! " 
 
 " Do hurry ! You men are forever telling 
 about women being so slow in arranging their 
 toilets, and here I've been ready and waiting 
 fully five minutes. I fear now we shall miss the 
 first selections, and I would not lose a note for 
 anything." 
 
 "Time enough, time enough; I just stopped 
 to kiss the children good-night, and, by the way, 
 Ethel, you have done a very careless thing. I 
 saw your amethyst set on the dressing-case ; and 
 there, too, lay your jewel-casket open. I'm 
 afraid some day your valuables will be missing." 
 
 " Well, there surely is not time now for me to 
 go back; and Katie is perfectly honest. I've 
 done the same thing dozens of times before."
 
 ALARM NUMBER SIXTY-THREE. 7 
 
 " But, Ethel, I think it is too much for you to 
 tempt her so." 
 
 " Now, Rex, for pity's sake don't begin to 
 lecture me, or I shall be sorry I am going ; but 
 no, Patti will be there and she is divine." 
 
 It was a frosty winter night, and the stars were 
 brightly shining points of light against the inky 
 blackness of ethereal space, but safely sheltered 
 from the cold and chilling air, Reginald Dean and 
 wife, in their own carriage, were driven to the 
 door of the opera house. They sat in their pri- 
 vate box listening to entrancing strains elicited 
 from several score of instruments. After a time 
 there came a grand crash of music, a few dulcet 
 strains, and all was still ; then, like a radiant 
 vision, there glided into the presence of that 
 vast assembly, the marvelous, soul-stirring Patti. 
 Bending low before that sea of upturned faces she 
 was greeted with a veritable thunder of applause ; 
 but it ceased as suddenly, and that rich melodious 
 voice rose and fell in sweetest cadences, tenderly, 
 soulfully, even sadly lingering over the heart- 
 melting notes, of " Home Sweet Home." The 
 last echoes were dying away and the bird-voiced 
 singer retired from view while every one in that 
 large assembly seemed spell-bound. But as she
 
 8 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 disappeared the charm was broken, and round 
 after round of deafening applause rang and 
 reverberated from pit to dome. The concert 
 progressed, and one after another came song of 
 flute or violin, or mellow voices of lesser lights, 
 until silence again reigned. But as the prima- 
 donna once again approached the foot-lights, 
 another sound than that of music or applause 
 broke the perfect stillness that prevailed. 
 
 It was the clash and clang of fire-bells wildly 
 echoing through space, where but a moment ago 
 had sounded the thunder of applause. With 
 blanching cheeks each one held his breath, men- 
 tally counting the strokes lest they should tell of 
 harm to himself or his loved ones. 
 
 One two three four five six; a slight 
 pause, one two three; sixty-three. A few 
 people left their seats and hurriedly passed out 
 of the building. No one noticed the startled 
 look, nor heard the moan of terror, as the little 
 amber-robed woman grasped the arm of her hus- 
 band saying in a hoarse whisper : 
 
 "The children oh, Reginald, it is our box, 
 sixty-three. What if it is our house ? " 
 
 With quickened steps and voices stilled with 
 fear they reached their carriage and were rapidly
 
 ALARM NUMBER SIXTY-THREE. 9 
 
 driven homeward ; alas, home no longer. There 
 met their gaze a sight to turn their brains, or 
 send the quivering life-blood back upon their 
 hearts in the chill grasp of death. The mansion 
 which not two hours before had been left in 
 apparent security, was now a blazing, blackening 
 mass, the fiery sheets of flame fiendishly leaping 
 from every window and reaching their lurid arms up 
 into the dense mass of smoke that hung like a black 
 pall over the ruins of what once was home ; and 
 where their two little ones had been left inno- 
 cently sleeping. The father could even then feel 
 the soft warmth of the baby lips as he had 
 pressed them to his own with a fond " Good- 
 night, and God bless you ; " and now, " Gracious 
 Heaven, save my children " ; were the words 
 wrung from his whitening lips. Already the 
 frantic mother was dashing up the granite steps 
 only to be grasped and held firmly in the embrace 
 of a stalwart fireman. 
 
 Struggling, she cried, " Let me go ! I must 
 save my children ! Oh, are you heartless? Have 
 you no mercy ? " And then, with a shriek and 
 a moan, the stricken mother fell back upon the 
 snow, crimsoned by the flash of the flames. Mr. 
 Dean had tried to gain an entrance, but the
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 stairs were burned away. A yawning, seething 
 abyss of smoke and flame greeted his terror- 
 stricken gaze as he stood in the doorway of his 
 once beautiful house. 
 
 Not one step over the sill could he take. The 
 floors were gone, and must have burned like 
 tinder. Driven back by the dense clouds of suf- 
 focating smoke, he returned to the side of his 
 wife, who, like a wounded bird, now lay cold, 
 shivering and insensible. From one to another 
 the father despairingly turned, questioning, 
 " Were the children saved ? " He cared for naught 
 else ; but no one could tell. They knew not how 
 the fire had started, neither had they any knowl- 
 edge of the fate of the inmates. No one had 
 been seen to leave the house, and combustion 
 was so rapid that the firemen were unable to 
 enter the building now entirely gutted, only the 
 four blazing, blackened, windowless walls left 
 standing out against that star-bespangled sky. 
 
 Hoping against hope, Mr. Dean gathered in 
 his arms the insensible form of his wife, and 
 sprang into the carriage with the words " Myrtle 
 Avenue " huskily whispered to the driver, and 
 in a few moments was at his mother's door. 
 Tenderly lifting the still form of his wife,
 
 A LA RM NUMBER SIX TY- THREE. 1 1 
 
 he carried her up the steps and into the hall- 
 way. 
 
 "The children ? " he questioned, as his mother 
 came to meet him. " What of them ? " she asked, 
 and then hope was gone. Leaving his wife in his 
 mother's care he returned to the scene of the fire. 
 Moments lengthened into hours, still the anxious 
 watcher could find no clue to the missing. After a 
 time the crowd dispersed, engines and firemen were 
 gone, and Reginald Dean stood alone gazing at 
 the smoking, smouldering ruin. Overhead the 
 stars sparkled as of yore. The evening before he 
 had stood by the window with Angie in hi-s arms, 
 as she had asked him to hold her up so she could 
 see that big star over there. Then it was almost 
 hidden by the church tower from whose belfry 
 now rang out the hour will post midnight. 
 
 It would have made your heart ache to have 
 witnessed that stalwart form bowed in grief, not 
 knowing whither to turn, or of whom to ask what 
 had become of his little ones. He could not 
 believe but that in some way they had been saved 
 from so dreadful a fate. They were young and 
 innocent, his Angie, scarce three, and baby 
 Evelyn, just able to walk alone ; and a merciful 
 God would not visit such evil on his darlings.
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 If some one would or could only say they were 
 somewhere safe, but this fearful suspense, bridged 
 by no ray of hope, it was fearful, madden- 
 ing. He must go back to Myrtle Avenue, to the 
 home of his mother, and await the morrow's 
 dawn. 
 
 Still dazed by his awful grief, he entered the 
 room where his wife lay sleeping. He seemed to 
 forget that she might be ill, his mind centered 
 on the two little ones and the only words half- 
 sobbed, half-moaned, were " Angie Evelyn." 
 A physician had been summoned ; and Mrs. Dean, 
 brought out of that death-like faint, raved so like 
 a mad creature, it was necessary to administer 
 an opiate. The doctor prepared a powder for 
 Mr. Dean ; but he, with an impatient gesture, 
 pushed it aside, and taking a seat by his wife's 
 bedside dropped his head upon his hands and did 
 not move for hours. The great fire burned low, 
 but he did not heed it. Mrs. Van Alstyne, his 
 mother, was in close attendance and kept anxious 
 watch over the two silent ones. As the first clear 
 streaks of dawn crept into the room where the 
 watcher sat, he arose, and with weary steps 
 descended to the floor below. He was met in 
 the hall by his mother bearing in her hands a tray
 
 ALARM NUMBER SIXTY-THREE. 13 
 
 on which was daintily arrayed a slice of buttered 
 toast, and a cup of steaming coffee. 
 
 " Come back, Reginald, and get this warm drink. 
 It won't take but a moment." 
 
 He lifted the cup and drained it, and in an- 
 other instant was gone. She gazed after him 
 wonderingly ; then there flashed upon her mind 
 the reason for his strange and altered appear- 
 ance. Ah, yes, it was her dark-haired boy, 
 changed in a single night to a hoary-headed, 
 broken-hearted man. Every endeavor was made 
 to find some trace of the children, but not one in 
 that vast city could be found who knew aught in 
 regard to them. The busy world moved on ; the 
 fire was chronicled ; but, ere the sun had twice 
 risen and set, the incident was a thing of the 
 past, forgotten in the ceaseless bewildering whirl 
 of the great metropolis. Those hearts that had 
 loved and lost were aching voids ; while only im- 
 mediate friends remembered why Reginald Dean's 
 hair had so suddenly become blanched ; and the 
 few who missed his wife from social circles, oc- 
 casionally remarked, "It was sad about her losing 
 her children. She is an invalid now." 
 
 Ever and anon there sprang up a hope tugging 
 at the father's heart-strings, and breathing sug-
 
 I 4 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 gestions that, in some way, he should find his 
 children again on earth ; and with this he tried to 
 quiet his troubled soul. But, Reginald Dean, 
 another sorrow awaits you. Listen for the echoing 
 notes of that beautiful hymn, " Home, sweet 
 Home." It seems strangely connected with the 
 most sad occurrences of your life, and it shall 
 come to pass that when you hear those pathetic 
 strains, you will shudderingly question, " What 
 calamity now hastens on ? "
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 
 
 " In the white curtain to and fro, 
 She saw the gusty shadows sway.' 
 
 OR a week Mrs. Dean lay in a comatose 
 condition, once in a while rallying and 
 speaking a few wandering words, then 
 sinking again into the same sad state 
 of lethargic insensibility. A second, and a third 
 week passed, and she appeared to be gaining, but 
 though bodily strength was returning the mind 
 seemed weak. Outside her chamber window 
 stood a row of gaunt oak trees, whose dry leaves 
 rustled softly as the chill breeze moaned through 
 the swaying branches. The window had been 
 left slightly opened, and the white curtain idly 
 swung to and fro with the breeze. 
 
 One day, about two months from the opening 
 of our story, Mrs. Van Alstyne stood bathing the 
 hot forehead, when Mrs. Dean suddenly started
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 up to a sitting position. Pointing to the open 
 window, she said, " Mother, do you see that white 
 hand coming in at the side of the curtain? 
 Angie beckons for me to come. Don't you think 
 I had better go ? " With trembling voice Mrs. 
 Van Alstyne tried to quiet the disordered brain, 
 telling her to wait till she felt better, and then 
 they would talk about it. In a few moments 
 Mrs. Dean shrieked out with fearful emphasis, 
 " The fire bells ! Our box ! sixty-three ! the 
 children ! Oh, Reginald ! " and crept under the 
 clothes, covering her head, as if to keep out the 
 sound. 
 
 Then, indeed, did the cup of Mrs. Van Alstyne's 
 grief overflow. Bereft of the grandchildren, 
 now to feel their mother was a maniac yes, the 
 worst had come, the mind was gone. Reginald 
 Dean moved about the house like a man bereft 
 of feeling, speaking in subdued tones whenever 
 he spoke at all, brightening up occasionally when 
 the door-bell rang, then, when no tidings came, 
 settling into a deeper state of melancholia. But 
 weeks and months passed, and all hope de- 
 parted. 
 
 As Easter approached there came a Sunday 
 like a fair May day in advance of its fellows. A
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 
 
 few bluebirds and robins were out, and on the 
 trees the buds were bursting, patches of snow lay 
 along by the fences, while here and there the 
 grass was starting into greenness. The mellow 
 sun stole up over the tree-tops and into the clear 
 blue of the sky overhead. Church bells rang their 
 solemn chimes as Mrs. Van Alstyne and Reginald 
 Dean bent their steps toward the old stone 
 church of St. Paul ; ivy-grown and moss-encrusted. 
 Within, the semi-darkness was broken by flecks 
 of sunlight falling through stained glass windows, 
 and reaching down through the vaulted space 
 overhead into dim recesses within the high-backed 
 pews, fit resting-place for those bowed down with 
 sorrow or with care. It placed one in a worship- 
 ful mood to sit there screened from the gaze of a 
 large congregation, listening to the sweet chanting 
 of the choir, and the solemn roll of the organ. 
 The player's fingers swept over the keys in a 
 softly echoing prelude, then in another moment 
 on the balmy spring air there swelled forth the 
 notes of " Home, Sweet Home." How ten- 
 derly and solemnly the choir sang the hymn 
 through, while up to the throne of grace rose 
 the prayer of one, as the words filled the dim old 
 church,
 
 i8 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " While here in this valley of conflict I stay, 
 
 O give me submission and strength as my day ; 
 In all my afflictions to Thee would I come, 
 Rejoicing in hope of my glorious home." 
 
 A shudder ran through Mr. Dean's frame as his 
 mind reverted to the last time he had heard that 
 sweet refrain. Neither from the hymn, nor from 
 the sermon that followed, could he gain either 
 comfort or consolation. Once, not quite half a 
 score of years ago, his heart would have responded 
 in full sympathy with the service, and would have 
 been touched, perhaps, with the balm of healing ; 
 but the years had brought business cares and per- 
 plexities, and in looking after the affairs of the 
 world he had lost sight of the narrow way, and 
 was now threading the intricate mazes of a worldly 
 business life. 
 
 Faith is a slender thread on which hangs one's 
 destiny. Clung to, and strengthened, it brings 
 about, from possibilities, genuine realities, but 
 when the faith-cord loosens and well-nigh breaks, 
 we lose things out of our present lives that we 
 might have had for the asking. If not too long 
 neglected, we may bring these realities into our 
 lives ; but alas ! too often, when we look back and 
 think what might have been, how near to our
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 
 
 grasp have been some of the things our hearts 
 have most desired, we lose sight of the remnant 
 of faith that is left, and go groping on in the 
 darkness. At the house on Myrtle Avenue, a 
 quiet Sabbath stillness reigned. Aunt Eunice 
 glided in and out performing her household tasks, 
 while Mrs. Dean, robed in a soft garment of white, 
 reclined on a couch. The warm spring breeze 
 entering the open window lifted the raven locks 
 from the pale brow, as if it would pity and 
 caress that saddest of all living creatures a mind- 
 wrecked human being. 
 
 A white-capped, uniformed nurse was in close 
 attendance, and stepping to the side of Mrs. Dean 
 arranged about her form a fleecy afghan, then 
 bent over her pallid features in order to become 
 perfectly assured that the patient was sleeping. 
 There was not even a quiver of the eyelids, and 
 one white hand resting upon her breast rose and 
 fell with the regular breathing. 
 
 " She is fast asleep, surely," thought the nurse. 
 " I will run out for a little airing." 
 
 Only a few feet from the sitting-room windows, 
 and opening out from another part of the house, 
 was a square veranda, on which stood a comfort- 
 able old-fashioned chair, and in this the nurse
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 settled herself for a brief season of rest. After 
 waiting until the balmy atmosphere was fast in- 
 viting slumber to the weary body of the nurse, 
 Mrs. Dean raised herself upon one elbow, and 
 glanced around the apartment. Becoming con- 
 vinced that she was alone, she laughed softly to 
 herself, remarking, " Not asleep that time, were 
 you, Ethel ? Now or never ! " Then arising, she 
 passed into Mrs. Van Alstyne's room, stepped to 
 the bedside, slid her hand in under the mattress, 
 and with the chuckling remark, " I thought I 
 should find it here," drew forth a revolver. 
 Then quickly returning to her position on the 
 couch she critically surveyed the weapon. What- 
 ever thoughts were whirling through her mind 
 were brought to a sudden close ; for just then the 
 front door creaked as the church-goers re-entered 
 the house. At the same instant there was a click 
 of the pistol, a sharp report, and Reginald Dean 
 and Mrs. Van Alstyrie rushed into the room in 
 time to see the instrument drop from the hand of 
 the poor demented woman. Ethel Dean had at- 
 tempted to take her own life. 
 
 Reginald's cup of sorrow was overflowing, but 
 the startled aim had erred and the wound was not 
 fatal. Careful nursing for weeks was necessary,
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 
 
 and what a strain came upon the minds of the 
 watchers none outside could ever know. A vio- 
 lent fever raged week after week, until the poor 
 racked form was reduced almost to a skeleton. 
 The doctor had a hope which he did not whisper. 
 If he only could bring that hope to pass, what 
 joy, what joy ! 
 
 Down to the very gates of death passed that 
 frail mind-diseased woman, until there came an 
 hour when it seemed as though the death-angel 
 must claim the victory. Then came a calm and 
 almost breathless sleep, when it appeared that 
 the sleeper might pass away without a struggle. 
 All watched and waited. Man had done to the 
 extent of his skill. It was in the Lord's hands, 
 and He is merciful. The hours passed on and 
 then oh, hope beyond belief, those eyes opened, 
 and the glitter of fever and of insanity was gone. 
 Breathlessly they sat and waited. Was it one 
 conscious moment before the soul should leave 
 its temple of clay and soar away clothed in im- 
 mortality ? The first words spoken by the 
 physician, " I give you hope," were like rain in 
 the desert. 
 
 Then followed days of anxious care, days when 
 no one spoke above a whisper ; when all walked
 
 STORM-SWPT. 
 
 on tip-toe: and every sound and movement in the 
 sick-room was telegraphed all over the house. 
 The children were never mentioned, for the effect 
 of such an allusion was dreaded. Mrs. Dean was 
 a poor frail invalid, hardly worth raising, as she 
 expressed it ; but what joy pervaded that house- 
 hold. Mr. Dean had grown five years younger 
 in his appearance, and through this great mercy 
 he had been led back to the foot of the Cross. 
 He recognized these trials of the past few months 
 as being the Refiner's fire. Though underneath 
 all was the wound caused by the loss of the 
 children, yet he began to lay that trial, along 
 with his other burdens, upon the great Burden- 
 Bearer. 
 
 Then came a time when business life must be 
 taken up again ; and with how much better heart 
 this man could go out to his work feeling that he 
 left one at home who would gladly await his 
 coming ; one who was clothed and in her right 
 mind. Domiciled in the house on Myrtle Avenue, 
 was Eunice Stiles, a plain everyday New England 
 woman, unlearned in book-lore, but well-versed in 
 the knowledge most needful : having ever about 
 her the Everlasting Arms, which sustained her in 
 every trial, and made her a wonderful help and
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 23 
 
 consolation to all those with whom she had any 
 dealings. When Reginald Dean was a baby she 
 had left her country home in order to fulfill a 
 school-girl's promise. 
 
 Reginald's mother and Eunice Stiles were mates 
 at school ; and at the close of those halcyon days 
 a mutual promise had been made that whenever 
 one needed the other it should be her first duty 
 to minister to the wants of her chosen friend. 
 Therefore it came to pass that Eunice Stiles was 
 sent for and came with very little delay, and in 
 the train of circumstances which followed, it had 
 come about that Mrs. Alstyne's home had for 
 years been the home of Aunt Eunice. It was she 
 who had cradled in her arms the baby Rex, little 
 king of the house, too, had he been, then when 
 older grown, far beyond the desire for softly- 
 crooned lullabyes, she had bound up his stubbed 
 toes and extracted slivers for him ; and even 
 doctored and nursed with the aid of raw oysters 
 an eye injured by a sissing fire-cracker. It was 
 she who had dressed the wounded head when one 
 time, when jumping from the hay-mow, Reginald 
 struck against a spike in a beam and inflicted an 
 ugly wound. Ofttimes she made a little " try 
 cake," or pie, or pudding, purposely for him ;
 
 24 S TORM-S IV EP T. 
 
 and how many many childish faults did she 
 smooth over, screening him always if possible. 
 
 And now she was revolving in her mind the 
 question as to what she could do to help him out 
 of this terrible trouble that he was struggling so 
 hard to bear. Little Angie used often to visit 
 grandmamma; and Aunt Eunice was just begin- 
 ning to teach the child to sew. The kitchen at 
 grandma's was Eunice Stiles' sitting-room by 
 preference. It contained two south windows 
 opening out over a very pleasant landscape, and 
 these windows she counted as among her mercies. 
 One end of the room was fitted up with a cosy 
 corner where her carefully tended house-plants 
 thrived and blossomed beneath the rays of the 
 warm south sunlight. Upon the wall was a small 
 door which, when opened, revealed a store of 
 treasures. For one thing there was a box of 
 picture-books, old-fashioned and quaint in design 
 and print ; but for hours Angie would amuse her- 
 self with them. There too was a miniature set of 
 furniture and a unique representation of a quilting 
 bee, wooden dolls, patchwork quilt and all, and 
 these with many other quaint toys Angie was in 
 the habit of playing with when she came, bringing 
 life and sunshine into that quiet house.
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 
 
 -'5 
 
 In Aunt Eunice's work-basket lay two little 
 squares of calico on which Angie had placed 
 straggling stitches. They seemed almost sacred 
 now, for there they were just as the baby fingers 
 had left them, when last the little one was at 
 grandma's. Aunt Eunice had a way of talking to 
 herself, and one day, as she sat there by the south 
 window, looking first at the bit of sewing and 
 then with tear-dimmed eyes gazing out over the 
 landscape, catching glimpses of birds flitting to 
 and fro as they wrought at the building of their 
 nests ; and noting the starting grass and foliage 
 on the distant hillsides ; she began knitting 
 more vigorously as she communed with herself. 
 
 " I feel, somehow, as though those children 
 were in the land o' the livin'. I know I should 
 feel different than I do if they were dead and 
 gone. I had a dream last night, the curiousest 
 one I ever had I believe ; and I thought those 
 children were in an orphan asylum, and in the 
 very asylum that was in the city near where I was 
 brought up. I'm a leetle bit superstitious about 
 dreams, and I think I'll go there and see if there 
 is anything to it." Just then Mrs. Van Alstyne 
 entered the room. 
 
 " Martha," Aunt Eunice always called her by
 
 2 6 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 her first name, for, as she said, " Wasn't they 
 born and brought up neighbors ? " " I want to go 
 away for a few days to see my sister Hester over 
 to Fairbury. I hain't been in a long time, and 
 I've got a sort of a hankerin' after her to-day." 
 
 " Why, go by all means, if you would like to. 
 You will be back by house-cleaning time ? " 
 
 " Certainly, I only want to go and stay over 
 Sunday, and perhaps a day or two longer." 
 
 When Friday morning came, Aunt Eunice 
 started on her journey, not a long one, to be sure, 
 but she seldom traveled, and a trip of a few hours' 
 duration seemed quite an episode in her quiet 
 life. It was near noon when the train she was to 
 take steamed into the depot where she had sat 
 waiting for two mortal hours ; and when at last 
 she stood on the New Haven platform, she looked 
 about her, half wondering if any way Hester had 
 surmised she was coming, and sent Jared to the 
 city to meet her. But, no, every face was a 
 strange one, and yet the place had not changed 
 greatly. Here and there was a modern-built 
 house, and scarcely a moment passed when she 
 could not hear the tinkle of a horse-car bell. In 
 the distance, looming up between her and the face 
 of West Rock rose the tall spire of the Methodist,
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 27 
 
 Church. Away off to the northward along the 
 horizon lay the Sleeping Giant, and Mount Carmel 
 at its head. The sun had passed the zenith and 
 was moving down towards the tops of the trees 
 that fringed a ridge of hills around to the west- 
 ward as Aunt Eunice hurried along on her self- 
 imposed mission. She boarded a car, and alighted 
 at the point nearest her destination ; then walked 
 thoughtfully along the elm-shaded street to where 
 the old Asylum stood. She almost thought she 
 had mistaken the place. Wings had been added, 
 and the shrubbery had grown so tall, and multi- 
 plied greatly, while over the doorway were the 
 words, Faith Orphan Asylum. 
 
 " Hem," said Aunt Eunice, " this is a new 
 wrinkle ; must have changed hands since I was 
 here last." However she rang the bell, and 
 a young girl, tidily clad, answered the sum- 
 mons. 
 
 " Good afternoon, miss, have you any little 
 children here? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, quite a number." 
 
 " Can I see them ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! Would you wish to see the 
 nursery children or the older ones first? The 
 little ones are having supper. The others are
 
 2 8 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 scattered about the building and playground, as 
 this is their hour for recreation." 
 
 " Please let me see the nursery children ; " and 
 Aunt Eunice's voice trembled with emotion. 
 
 " Wait a moment, please," and the girl stepped 
 into a room leading off from the wide hall. In 
 an instant she returned with the matron, who 
 questioned, "Are you looking for a child for 
 adoption, madam?" 
 
 The snap of those black eyes and the firm 
 closing of the thin lips which seemed to say, " My 
 word is law," made Aunt Eunice shiver, but she 
 answered calmly, " No, a friend of mine has lost 
 two children recently, and I thought I'd like to 
 see if there were any here who resembled them." 
 
 " Their ages, please ? " 
 
 " One and three! " 
 
 " Very well. Alice, show this lady to the 
 nursery." 
 
 The nursery door opened, revealing twenty or 
 more little tots gathered around a long, low 
 table, quietly eating their supper of bread and 
 milk. One chubby little curly-head was nodding 
 low over her small yellow bowl, when from the 
 further end of the room rose the voice of the 
 nursery matron. " Emma Bell, wake up and
 
 LED BY A DREAM. 29 
 
 finish your supper for you will have to go to bed 
 with the rest when they are done." The nod- 
 ding head was quickly raised, and the black eyes 
 of the child ^ast a defiant glance at the woman. 
 Aunt Eunice's heart swelled with pity toward 
 the poor little waif, and a new-born wish entered 
 her mind that she might be able some day to 
 make a home for herself, and take some lonely 
 little soul to share it with her and cheer her 
 latest years. She intently surveyed the little 
 faces, then turned to the girl and said, "There 
 ain't none here like 'em. That one " pointing to 
 Emma, " is most like Evelyn. I'm so sorry; and 
 these are all ? " 
 
 " Yes, these are all." And Aunt Eunice sadly 
 turned away* for hope had risen high, and visions 
 of rejoicing had flitted before her mind, but 
 there was nothing in the dream after all. She 
 had been foolish to give it a second thought. 
 She might have known dreams always go by con- 
 traries. She would not let a soul know how fool- 
 ish she had been. So she retraced her steps and 
 took the omnibus for Fairbury, where sister 
 Hester lived. 
 
 " She was ' dretful glad ' to see me ; " so Aunt 
 Eunice told Mrs. Van Alstyne upon her return ;
 
 3 
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " and so was her husband, Jared Cooper. I hadn't 
 seen him in as much as ten years ; and he's got 
 to be postmaster over to the Junction. They 
 live in the same house the post-office is in," she 
 added. " He's postmaster for Fairbury and 
 Westbridge too. That's the next village, you 
 know." 
 
 Time passed, and life at the cottage went on 
 in the old routine, as nearly as it could ; though 
 everywhere there seemed to be a something 
 missing. There were places where they felt 
 there must be a tangible object ; but when, invol- 
 untarily, a hand was put out, only empty space 
 was revealed. But you who have loved ones 
 gone over the boundary from whence none ever 
 'return, you can define in your hearts the void, 
 the absolute chaos, which for a time prevailed.
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 
 
 " Child, thy bed shall be 
 
 Folded safe from harm Love, deep and kind, 
 Shall watch around." 
 
 NE bright April morning, when the 
 world was waking to the echo of song- 
 birds, and the balmy, resinous odors 
 of balsam and fir pervaded the air ; 
 when violets and anemones lifted their heads in 
 the woodland,^ having heard the early call of the 
 spring-showers ; in the doorway of a pleasant 
 cottage, in a town on the outskirts of a large city, 
 a shrewd-faced woman stood, her hand raised to 
 her eyes, as she looked anxiously up and down 
 the road, apparently watching for some one. 
 Presently a young man came in sight, and the 
 woman hastened down the road to meet him, 
 impatient to learn some tidings for which she 
 had evidently waited anxiously and long. No 
 houses were near, though a few columns of
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ascending smoke denned the location of several 
 distant cottages hidden by trees and undulations 
 of the intervening meadowland. The cottage in 
 the foreground was an old-fashioned structure, 
 somewhat elevated above the roadway along 
 which the couple now appro:. chcd in earnest con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Hang it," the young man was saying, "it was 
 a tender sort of a job, and I'll be blowed if I 
 ever want another such ; but, however, it's done. 
 Now for my pay." 
 
 " Tell me about it first," said the woman. 
 
 " Well, to start with, we took a good two 
 hours' train-ride. I bought some lunch for 'em 
 candy and things had to carry the little one all 
 the way to the train. Her little legs couldn't 
 walk fast enough, of course. Guess I had one 
 pretty close shave, though. We were going 
 through some country town and slacked up long 
 enough to take a mail-bag aboard, and I'll be 
 hanged if the biggest 'un didn't spy, or think she 
 did, somebody she knew. 'Oh,' said she, 'we 
 get off here, I know. There's Aunt Eunice. I 
 guess she's comin' to take us home;' but the 
 window was down and the train was off in a jiffy, 
 and I just caught a glimpse of an old-fashioned
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 33 
 
 neat-looking woman ; I orter not say it, I s'pose, 
 but mother, I'd a heap ruther stand in her shoes 
 than yourn at the judgment." 
 
 " Hush, Matt, I did it for the best. We never 
 could have kept 'em, and taken proper care of 
 'em ; and then they was born to the purple any- 
 way, and may yet be given away to some rich 
 people, and it'll be a godsend to 'em that they 
 went there.'' 
 
 "Ah, yes; that's all very well, but May bees 
 don't fly in April." 
 
 " Quick, and tell me the rest. Katie will be try- 
 ing to get up before I get back, and I've had my 
 hands full keeping her on that bed all this time, I 
 tell you. It seems as if your ship never would 
 get in. It'll be some weeks yet before she'll fully 
 recover from the effects of all those powders; and 
 we must get away somewhere soon in order to live, 
 for there's no work around here." 
 
 " Ha, ha, I'll warrant you don't find your 
 purse empty for one while, even after you've set- 
 tled with me ; but here goes for the rest of the 
 story. I couldn't pacify the biggest un no way, 
 after she spied that old woman, not till the train- 
 boy came through and I filled her lap with 
 oranges and candy. That kept her busy a little 
 3
 
 34 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 while, and she quieted down considerable when I 
 told her I guessed the old lady would be at the 
 station when we got off. Of course she wasn't ; 
 so I suggested that we go and find her. I wasn't 
 long in comin' in sight of the asylum. There's a 
 big church across the way from it, and I took 'em 
 through the cemetery that's next to it, cut acrosst 
 the potter's field, and came out on the other side. 
 Then we went in at the big gate to the asylum. 
 I slunk round behind the shrubbery, and told 'em 
 to go up to the door and knock, and, when some- 
 body opened it, to tell 'em they'd come for their 
 auntie, and if she wasn't there to go in and wait. 
 Then I skipped, I couldn't bear to stay there and 
 see 'em boo-hooin' any more. 
 
 " If I had, I guess I'd a brought 'em back here, 
 sure. Now, whatever becomes of 'em I don't 
 know ; only the last I see of 'em they was 
 a-climbin' those front steps, and a-chawin' on 
 some candy, and the little un had an orange under 
 her arm bigger'n her own head. 
 
 " She was a lovin' leetle creeter. How she did 
 put her little arms around my neck when I carried 
 her. It's your sin, mother, if any harm comes to 
 'em ; for I'll be blowed if I wasn't a-mind to bring 
 'em back a dozen times. If I hadn't a-been hard
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 35 
 
 up for the cash I would, sure. That's what I'm 
 here for now, so plank it down." 
 
 " Well, it's a good job you didn't bring them 
 back, after I'd got as far as this. Here's twenty- 
 five dollars, and now don't let me see you again 
 for a year, not till I get Katie over it. I expect 
 she'll have a fit. What are you goin' to do ? You 
 can't stay around here long, or she'll know there's 
 been somethin' in the wind." 
 
 " I expect to ship in the first sailing vessel I 
 can find for a tour around the world. You'd bet- 
 ter make it twenty-five more. I'll be gone three 
 years, probably, and I vow that job was cheap 
 enough at fifty." 
 
 " Here, take it, if you hain't earned it. Now 
 clear out, and don't show your face again for three 
 years." 
 
 " Ha, you're a pretty mother, you are, to send 
 your only son off for three years with strict orders 
 not to show his face in less time. Well, give 
 my love to Katie, and tell her I'll bring her 
 a new gown, if I don't land in Davy Jones's 
 locker." 
 
 They had stood down by the roadside till the 
 conversation was ended. Then the young man 
 started down the road, whistling as he went, and
 
 36 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the woman entered the house. Matt was jubilant 
 over two things. He had fifty dollars in cold cash 
 to do with as he wished ; and he had played a 
 little game on his mother. 
 
 " She's going to lie to Katie, I know she is, 
 why shouldn't I lie to her," he logically reasoned. 
 " I don't suppose it makes a 'tarnal bit of differ- 
 ence to her whether I took those children four or 
 forty miles away. It would be a good joke if 
 they should happen to get where Katie could see 
 'em. Whew ! wouldn't she make Rome howl ? 
 Gee Whittaker ! I can a'most see her eyes a-snap- 
 pin' now. ' Right is right,' Katie says, and I'll 
 be blowed if I don't believe so, too. It's a shame 
 to put away those cunnin' little creeters. Matt 
 Sharon, stop your blubberin'. Never knowed 
 afore you was quite a fool. Well, I ain't obliged 
 to go in a sailin' vessel for a trip around the 
 world," and he said it again to himself not three 
 hours later, as he stood on Long Wharf in the 
 office of Captain Perkins, and signed his name on 
 the books of a taut little schooner hauling coal 
 from Norfolk. 
 
 What he wrote read as follows : 
 
 " Matthew Sharon, seaman, New Haven." He 
 did not live in that city, in fact, never had ; but
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 
 
 37 
 
 perhaps some little bird had told him that before 
 he would return from his voyage his mother and 
 Katie would be residents of the City of Elms. 
 
 Mrs. Sharon entered the cottage, and passed 
 through the living-room into the kitchen beyond ; 
 but as her feet touched the door-sill she stood as 
 one petrified. A slight form was visible in the 
 doorway between the sitting-room and the bed- 
 chamber adjoining. It was a thin face, frightfully 
 scarred, that the woman beheld. 
 
 " Katie Sharon, are you possessed ? Go right 
 back to bed this minute. You ain't no more fit 
 to be walkin' around than nothin' at all." 
 
 The wasted hand wandered over the red seams 
 in her forehead, as the girl apparently tried to 
 recall something. Then, bending forward, she 
 glanced around the room and said, " Where are 
 the children, mother ? " Mrs. Sharon was pre- 
 pared to answer what she fully expected would 
 be Katie's first question. " Oh, their father came 
 and took them a few days after the fire. He 
 took the jewelry and money, too, but gave me 
 one hundred dollars to use for you ; and said he 
 was very grateful to you for saving the children 
 and valuables. He was very sorry you were so 
 badly burned, and wanted to send a doctor and
 
 38 STORM SWEPT. 
 
 nurse, but I thanked him and told him I thought 
 I could get along all right. 
 
 He called you a heroine, and said some day, 
 when you were better, he would come and see 
 you. I don't suppose he will though. He said 
 that, as their home was destroyed, and he had 
 urgent business in Europe, they would all take a 
 voyage together, for he did not like to leave his 
 wife and children behind him, especially after 
 they had come so near to a final separation. 
 
 Katie was pleased to hear that Mr. Dean had 
 taken the children and glad too that he had com- 
 mended her for her bravery, but she was sorry to 
 learn they had gone to Europe. How she would 
 have liked to have seen those dear little creatures, 
 tenfold more dear to her now, knowing she had 
 been the means of saving them from a dreadful 
 death. 
 
 " But, mother, will he know where to find me ?" 
 she asked after a few moments' reflection. 
 
 " Oh, yes, he selected this house for us, he 
 thought you would get well faster out here in 
 the country," and again Katie thought how very 
 kind Mr. Dean was. 
 
 The days wore on and strength returned, in a 
 measure, to Katie, who would sit for hours in a
 
 A DEED OF DAN A' A' ESS. 
 
 39 
 
 comfortable arm-chair, her feet resting on a 
 wadded foot-stool which her mother had thought- 
 fully provided for her. One thing troubled 
 Katie, though she hardly dared voice the 
 thought ; but as time passed she came to realize 
 that, although her general health was returning, 
 her feet were almost useless, and she must here- 
 after be a cripple. To one who had been 
 as active as Katie, it was a dreadful cross to 
 bear ; but she bore it like a true woman. Her 
 mother noticed with what difficulty she moved 
 about from one place to another, and observed 
 that she almost continually sat in the cretonne- 
 covered chair, with her feet resting on the 
 wadded top of the box-like foot-stool. The med- 
 icine had done its work, in one way, and Mrs. 
 Sharon was pleased with the effect produced as 
 far as keeping Katie stupefied till after the 
 children were disposed of was concerned ; but 
 whether to be glad or sorry that she was injured 
 for life was another question. 
 
 The ship with Matt on board had been two 
 weeks behind time ; but Mrs. Sharon had begun 
 her scheme, and she said to herself she might as 
 well keep it up and accomplish her purpose one 
 might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb
 
 40 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 but she had not counted on any lasting effect 
 from the drugs. But Matt came, and the children 
 went, and Matt went again ; and now it was the 
 first of May and high time to be getting to work 
 somewhere. Katie greatly enjoyed their sojourn 
 in the country during those early spring days. 
 She could see such pleasant sights from her win- 
 dow. Unused to country landscapes, every day's 
 unfolding was a new pleasure to her. She felt 
 that her mother had been very kind to leave the 
 busy city life and come with her out into the 
 great wide open country, where she could fast 
 regain strength and health ; and now, to have 
 lost the use of her feet, it worried her greatly, for 
 fear she was be a lifelong burden to her. 
 
 One afternoon she sat gazing out over the line 
 of hills then enveloped in a misty haze, the soft, 
 warm, sweet-scented breeze sending a pleasant 
 sensation to the very tips of her fingers. Beyond 
 the hills lay the city in which she had previously 
 resided. How she longed to see the children, 
 and hear their merry prattle, and with the wish 
 was born a resolution that, some day, when she 
 was able, she would go and search out grandma 
 Van Alstyne, and perhaps by that time Mr. 
 Dean's family would be back from Europe.
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 41 
 
 Then came the thought of her poor crippled feet, 
 but she resolved that, in some way, she would 
 carry her new-born resolution into effect. 
 
 How frequently we promise ourselves that 
 some act shall be performed, but procrastination 
 creeps in and time speeds on ! A word we would 
 have spoken is left unsaid ; a deed we would 
 have performed is left undone.; a resolve we have 
 made is not carried out ; and stern fate, interpos- 
 ing, bars the doors we once could have opened, 
 and the paths in the labyrinth are as intricate as 
 ever; the meshes of the net are as tangled as 
 before. Mrs. Sharon had been to the post-office 
 for their weekly paper. She thought best to 
 keep posted about outside things, for there 
 might be something of interest to her, which 
 it would not be well to miss. She dropped off 
 her bonnet and shawl and sat down to rest 
 awhile, and Katie looked over the "wants" 
 column. That was her first thought now that 
 she was better, but what earthly thing could a 
 girl do but sew who could not walk? She had 
 heretofore done second work, and taken care of 
 children ; but as for sewing, that seemed out of 
 the question. 
 
 " Just in luck, mother, I guess this is the place
 
 42 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 for us ; " and she read : " Wanted, a first-class 
 laundress and assistant. Call on Mrs. Catlin, 
 Principal, Young Ladies' Seminary, No. West 
 Chapel St., New Haven." 
 
 " That's just the place, Katie, though I don't 
 know what you can do, only clear-starching." 
 
 " Never you mind, mother, Katie has the use 
 of her hands yet. I shall have a board made to 
 order, and I can sit and iron collars and cuffs and 
 small pieces; and I'm sure I can help rinse -and 
 wring clothes too. So if we can only get it we 
 shall do nicely. Do go right away and see about 
 it, mother, before any one gets ahead of you." 
 
 Mrs. Sharon did go early and was fortunate 
 enough to secure the situation. Katie was jubi- 
 lant. Perhaps now she would have a chance to 
 pick up a little learning; if she only could. 
 Reluctantly she would bid good-bye to the home- 
 like cottage where they had lived but a few 
 months ; but her hopes were buoyed up by the 
 prospect of a chance to earn something, thereby 
 lessening her mother's burden. She did not 
 know that it was that mother's own hand which 
 had brought on their misfortune, she did not 
 know that at that moment Mr. Dean was bowed 
 down with inconsolable grief over the loss of his
 
 A DEED OF DAKA'A'ESS. 43 
 
 loved ones ; neither was she aware that her 
 brother Matt was scudding over the blue waters 
 of the Atlantic with fifty dollars of ill-gotten 
 money in his pocket, which he considered was 
 well earned ; but he would have thrown it over- 
 board rather than have Katie learn how it had 
 come into his possession. 
 
 Had she known these things, dire would have 
 been the imprecations heaped upon that mother's 
 head ; and if Katie had been obliged to travel on 
 her knees, she would have found her way to Mr. 
 Dean in order to tell him of the dastardly deed 
 which had been perpetrated. But in blissful 
 ignorance of these facts, on the last night of their 
 stay in that cosy cottage, Katie slept and dreamed 
 of the night when she sat by the children and 
 sang Mother Goose Melodies till the weary eye- 
 lids closed in slumber, only to be awakened by 
 the awful clang of fire-bells, and she rose in her 
 bed shrieking, 
 
 " Our box, sixty-three, fire, fire ! " Her mother 
 overheard her and quickly came in to quiet her, 
 for she did not wish Katie to think nor talk much 
 about the fire, hoping that, in time, most of the 
 occurrences in connection with the event would 
 be eliminated from her mind. Up to a compar-
 
 44 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 atively recent date, Mrs. Sharon had been a hard 
 working, upright, honest woman ; but the sight 
 of a fortune in jewels and money had kindled in 
 her heart a latent fire of greed ; and the tempter 
 had softly whispered of a way whereby she could 
 make that fortune her own, and she had thus far had 
 plain-sailing. The gems, worth several thousand 
 of dollars, were secreted in a place of safety, yet 
 occupying so prominent a position that she could 
 almost continually keep her eye upon them. 
 Katie, of course, knew nothing of their presence 
 in the house ; neither did she imagine her 
 mother capable of stooping to such measures of 
 treachery and deception. Mrs. Sharon did not 
 dare to offer them for sale for fear of their being 
 recognized ; so she contented herself with keep- 
 ing them as her own property, while Katie im- 
 plicitly believed the story she had told her, and 
 rejoiced to feel that through her instrumentality 
 a happy family remained unbroken, and the gems 
 of which she knew Mrs. Delfn to be so proud, 
 were saved from destruction by the flames. 
 
 In another week Katie and her mother were 
 settled inmates of Mrs. Catlin's establishment. 
 Besides the cretonne-covered chair and footstool, 
 which Mrs. Sharon had brought for Katie, an
 
 A DEED OF DARKNESS. 45 
 
 invalid chair was provided, in which she could 
 wheel herself about from one room to another. 
 In a few months she was considered an indis- 
 pensable adjunct to the seminary ; for, with a 
 little application, Katie's ringers soon learned to 
 darn nicely ; and many rips and rents were re- 
 paired for the girls, stockings were darned, and 
 buttons sewed on, to say nothing of the very 
 creditable appearance of the fine laces which she 
 carefully laundried for the more wealthy young 
 ladies who attended the school.
 
 46 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A RARE THANKSGIVING. 
 
 " Beneath the spreading heavens, 
 
 No creature but is fed, 
 And He who feeds the ravens 
 Shall give His children bread." 
 
 HE Faith Orphan Asylum in the city 
 of New Haven is an institution con- 
 ducted on the principle which its name 
 indicates; having no capital, being 
 wholly dependent on whatever contributions 
 its friends see fit to offer. One hundred or 
 more little waifs are continually being cared 
 for in both body and soul, a band of Christian 
 men and women having charge of the institution, 
 and with care and good judgment disbursing what- 
 ever funds or other gifts are placed at their dis- 
 posal. Ofttimes the matron does not know 
 where the next day's meals are coming from ; 
 but in some way or other the Lord always pro- 
 vides.
 
 A RARE THANKSGIVING. 
 
 47 
 
 The harvest was past. There had been a great 
 deal of rain, and the corn had not thriven as well 
 as usual. Potatoes rotted, and grapes mildewed, 
 apples were wormy, and turnips pithy, cabbages 
 were all leaf, and pumpkins were coarse-grained 
 and tasteless ; and, to cap the climax, large quan- 
 tities of hay had spoiled in the making, therefore 
 farmers in general were pretty blue, and you 
 know it is from the farm that our chief Thanks- 
 giving-day supplies must come. Funds were low, 
 provisions were slow in coming in, it was nearing 
 the middle of November and there was scarcely 
 a dollar in the treasury. Occasionally some 
 kind farmer would furnish several bushels of 
 potatoes or turnips, a grocer would send them a 
 barrel of flour, a baker would call around with 
 several baskets of bread, a milkman would bring 
 a can of milk, or a butcher would send in a 
 quarter of beef ; but somehow they were forgetting 
 or growing weary in well doing. The middle of 
 November was come and there was barely enough 
 to furnish very meagre fare for the inmates of 
 the institution. The matron knew the children 
 were one and all expecting a grand thanksgiving 
 feast. She had heard them talking of it as they 
 played together, and had seen them holding mimic
 
 48 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 dinners, where stones and chips and mud-pies 
 underwent wonderful changes in imagination ; and 
 now, though dreading the task, she felt it her duty 
 to let them know something how matters stood. 
 The children were assembled in the schoolroom, 
 and had just finished morning devotions when 
 the matron entered, spoke a few words to the 
 teacher ; then, her voice trembling with emotion, 
 addressed the school. 
 
 " Dear children, I fear I have a great dis- 
 appointment in store for you. For some reason 
 our friends have been less liberal than usual ; and 
 according to the present outlook we shall all have 
 to go without our thanksgiving dinner. How- 
 ever, if our hearts are right, we can give thanks 
 to God for his goodness in providing us with 
 plain food, and He will smile on us as brightly as 
 though we were rejoicing over a feast. We can 
 have a thanksgiving in our hearts anyway ; and 
 trust that next year we may be more prospered, 
 and that having gone without this time, we shall 
 then be all the better prepared to render abundant 
 thanks to Him who has always stood near when 
 the clouds of trouble were darkest. I tell you 
 early, children, in order that you may be ready 
 for the disappointment."
 
 A RARE THANKSGIVING. 
 
 With tears in her eyes and in her voice, the 
 matron left the room, and many sorrowful little 
 faces turned toward the teacher as she ascended 
 the platform and stood by the desk. Touching 
 the bell, she soon had the attention of every 
 scholar ; then said, " Children, how many of you 
 have faith in prayer?" Every little hand was 
 raised. 
 
 " How many of you have faith strong enough 
 to believe if we each pray faithfully and ex- 
 pectantly, morning and night until Thanksgiving- 
 day, that the Lord will provide for us a thanks- 
 giving dinner? " 
 
 Again every little hand was lifted high. 
 
 " Very well ! We will now unite in prayer." 
 
 Each head was bowed as the teacher prayed 
 earnestly that God would remember the lonely 
 orphans who had no kind fathers and mothers to 
 provide for them a thanksgiving dinner, ending 
 her petition with saying that every little one 
 present faithfully believed that whatsoever they 
 asked in Jesus' name they would surely receive. 
 As they raised their heads the little faces shone 
 with expectant joy ; and, with light hearts, all 
 went about their lessons. At night they repeated 
 their prayers, and each succeeding morning and
 
 5 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 night found the little orphan children beseeching 
 the Great Giver of all good and perfect gifts to 
 send them the much desired Thanksgiving-day 
 feast. Day after day went by with no special 
 gifts sent in, only a dollar here, and a dollar there, 
 just enough to keep things going, and well that 
 it was so, for a by-law of the institution main- 
 tained that under no circumstances should the 
 institution ever contract one penny of debt ; the 
 founders having had implicit faith that the Lord 
 would always provide. The faith of the children 
 did not waver. If older persons did but pos- 
 sess the faith of children, how much more 
 contentedly would life's burdens be borne, and 
 how many dark torrents of trouble would be 
 safely bridged over. 
 
 The children dreamed of the grand feast they 
 would have, and talked about it as though it were 
 a settled fact that they should have all the good 
 things to eat that could be thought of. The 
 night before Thanksgiving was come, and as the 
 little white-robed forms knelt at their bedsides 
 they prayed again that by the morrow the Lord 
 would put it into some one's heart to send them 
 some of the good things which He had given. 
 Morning came and the inmates of the asylum
 
 A RAKE THANKSGIVING. 
 
 were assembled for devotions in the schoolroom, 
 which on Sundays and holidays served as a chapel, 
 and on this bright Thanksgiving morning all were 
 paying strict attention to the president, a worthy 
 minister of the gospel, as he told the children of 
 the origin of Thanksgiving-day. He related to 
 them the narrative of the Puritans setting apart 
 a day for fasting, and prayer, which same day was 
 turned into one of feasting and rejoicing by the 
 timely arrival of a ship-load of provisions ; then 
 added, that although those present were not 
 obliged to fast, as there was yet the ordinary 
 supply of food, still he trusted that, in their 
 hearts, all would thank the Gracious Father that 
 their lives were spared, that they had a comfort- 
 able dwelling-place, and food and clothing suffi- 
 cient for present need. Then all joined in repeat- 
 ing the Lord's prayer. As the trembling voices 
 uttered the words, " Give us this day our daily 
 bread," there was a knock at the door. 
 
 The prayer being finished, the door was opened, 
 and there stood a man bearing on his shoulders a 
 huge sack full to overflowing with plump dressed 
 turkeys, while behind him came another man car- 
 rying a mammoth hamper containing choice 
 viands, fruits, nuts and confections. What a joy-
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ful shout went up from the children ! " The Lord 
 has sent us a Thanksgiving dinner, we knew He 
 would ; we knew He would." Confusion pre- 
 vailed. The little ones danced and capered about, 
 they laughed and clapped their hands, while the 
 white-haired pastor bowed his head and said. 
 " Praised be the Lord." Then the teacher 
 explained the words of the children, telling how 
 they had daily prayed for a Thanksgiving feast 
 and how implicit was their faith in God. Deposit- 
 ing their burdens, the men said there were others 
 with provisions at the door,- if some one would 
 show them where to put them. President, matron, 
 teacher and children all trooped down the stairs 
 to the front door, opposite which stood a large 
 truck drawn by four strong horses ; and behind 
 the truck in line were half a dozen farmers' 
 wagons. 
 
 Then the unloading began, and what was not 
 there ! Bag after bag, and parcel after parcel 
 found its way into the almost empty larder of the 
 orphan asylum. Potatoes, turnips, apples, nuts, 
 pickles, sweet-meats, delicious home-made bread, 
 real old-fashioned pumpkin pies, and, oh I can- 
 not tell you all that was brought in for the chil- 
 dren. Great tears rolled down the cheeks of
 
 A RARE THANKSGIVING. 
 
 53 
 
 more than one sunbrowned farmer driving home- 
 ward over the rough roads, as he thought of the 
 sight he had witnessed. Busy hands went to 
 work, and before many hours there was spread 
 such a feast as many of those little ones had 
 never before seen ; in truth, numbers did not 
 know the taste of many of the viands spread 
 before them. Ranged about the tables were the 
 children and as the reverend pastor rose to say 
 grace, every little one joined in with him ; and 
 such a thanksgiving as that prayer was ! 
 
 Then they began to demolish the eatables, and 
 it would have done your heart good to see the 
 sight. If well-to-do people only realized how 
 happy little hearts could be made, they would 
 find themselves amply repaid for sending to them 
 from time to time a portion of their bounteous 
 supply. I doubt if throughout the country there 
 was a more genuine Thanksgiving than that 
 which was spent at the Faith Orphan Asylum ; 
 and to this day there is not remaining one of 
 those children who could be made to waver in 
 their faith in God and prayer. 
 
 One of the worthy people into whose heart had 
 been put a resolve to give to the Lord of his 
 store, and who had been guided by an unseen
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 hand to deposit his thanksgiving offering at the 
 door of the Faith Orphan Asylum, was Deacon 
 Elijah Argyle. He had driven in from West- 
 bridge, a distance of several miles, and had wit- 
 nessed the evidences of the children's faith in 
 prayer. His wife too had sent a bundle of home- 
 knit stockings and mittens; they being the prod- 
 uct of her spare moments. She had often spoken 
 to her husband of the little ones in the asylum, 
 and not infrequently thought of some time visit- 
 ing the institution with a view to adopting some 
 little waif, and bringing her out into the beautiful 
 country to grow up in the midst of it all ; and 
 also to be a comfort to them in their declining 
 years. It was ever so long since they had laid to 
 rest, in the quiet country churchyard, a little sun- 
 beam which had been lent to them for three 
 happy years. As Deacon Argyle was returning 
 from bringing in his last sack of vegetables, he 
 saw standing in the wide hall-way a little maiden 
 of perhaps three summers. She was looking up 
 at him with wide-open eyes, her short black curls 
 clustering about the round rosy face. Her pink 
 calico apron was drawn closely about her chubby 
 little form, as she stood with her hands behind 
 her. She caught the twinkle of kindliness that
 
 55 
 
 A RARE THANKSGIVING. 
 
 lit up the gray eyes of the deacon, as he said : 
 " Come to me, little one, here is a bright penny 
 for you." 
 
 She walked slowly forward and held out one fat 
 little hand, while the other still remained behind 
 her. She took the proffered nickel, and then, as 
 if on the impulse of the moment, brought forward 
 the other hand, and, holding both up toward the 
 deacon, looked earnestly into his honest face as 
 she said, " I will tiss you for it, I love you." 
 
 Deacon Argyle caught her up in his great strong 
 arms, and kissed the merry little face. She 
 placed one hand on each rough cheek and said : 
 " I ain't dot any papa. Annie has ; a big man 
 with long whiskers." 
 
 She looked down at the short gray beard of the 
 deacon as she added, " He couldn't take me 'cause 
 he didn't have room for only one little girl, and 
 I'm so lonesome." 
 
 Then she cried big salt tears that rolled down 
 on the deacon's rough overcoat ; and he held the 
 poor little tot closer in his strong embrace ; she 
 seemed so much like his own little Ellen. With 
 the child still in his arms, he sought out the 
 matron of the institution in order to find whether 
 the little one was to be had for the asking.
 
 56 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 There were requirements necessary : namely, a 
 person adopting a child must be a Christian, and 
 possessed either of means or of a substantial 
 mode of gaining a livelihood, in order to insure a 
 proper training of mind, and that the child might 
 have a prospect of a respectable education and 
 support. 
 
 " Well," said the deacon, " I'd like the refusal 
 of this little one till I can go home and get my 
 wife to come and see her. She's been talkin' for 
 some time of takin' a little girl for our own. 
 " Ours died fourteen years ago, and this baby 
 is e'en a'most the image of her. I own a good- 
 sized farm in Westbridge Primrose Bank, we 
 call it you may have heard of it besides havin' 
 a little bank account ; and as I'm first deacon in 
 the church, I don't see as there's any hindrance 
 that way." Reluctantly leaving the little one be- 
 hind him, Deacon Argyle started for home. He 
 was half-a-mind to turn back and take the little 
 one along with him now ; but he'd got the refusal 
 of her anyway, and he guessed he'd better talk 
 about it Avith mother first. 
 
 Mother was well pleased at her husband's 
 description of the little orphan, and wanted to 
 start right off the next day to see about adopting
 
 A RAKE THANKSGIVING. 57 
 
 her, and she did. Her great motherly heart went 
 out to the little motherless one, and as she 
 cuddled her in her arms, as they jolted along over 
 the rough country roads, it seemed as if she had 
 gone back fourteen years of her life to the time 
 when she had clasped in her arms her own little 
 blossom that had been so early transplanted to 
 the beautiful garden of Heaven. Her name should 
 be Ellen Douglas Argyle that had been the name 
 of their lost one ; and this should be another little 
 Nellie. The child was a happy little body, and 
 grew up free and innocent, in companionship with 
 the birds and flowers of the field. She attended 
 the village school, and had a few playmates among 
 the children belonging to the scattered families in 
 the old town of Westbridge. 
 
 As the years sped on she forgot that Mr. and 
 Mrs. Argyle were not her own parents, neither 
 could she remember any other home than the old 
 house with the long slanting roof, under whose 
 eaves were the mud-swallows' nests in summer; 
 and where in winter hung long icicles almost as 
 tall as herself, and which she could readily reach. 
 Then there was the bank in front of the house, a 
 rather steep descent down to the road, and Nellie 
 could not remember the time when she had not
 
 S 8 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 gathered there handfuls of yellow primroses. If 
 any one had never told her she was adopted ; if 
 she could have lived on in blissful ignorance of the 
 fact, as her foster-parents intended she should, 
 perhaps the lines of her life would have been cast 
 in different places. She might have grown up 
 and lived on in the humdrum way so many had 
 before done in the dull old town ; nothing out of 
 the common way ever entering her sphere. But 
 things were ordered otherwise ; and there came a 
 rude awakening.
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 
 
 59 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 
 
 " Oh, bitter words, like blasting rain, 
 And life is never the same again." 
 
 N the Hepburne lot on the hill stands 
 an old button-ball tree, its tall gray 
 trunk surmounted by straggling 
 branches, with here and there a 
 few button-balls swaying ; the whole being 
 boldly outlined against a hilly horizon. A part 
 of the tree's roots are bare, and these projecting, 
 overhang a basin of some four or five feet in 
 diameter, and perhaps fifteen inches deep ; where 
 up through the roots and mosses bubble the 
 waters of a never-failing spring, clear as crystal. 
 One can almost count the pebbles at the bottom 
 of the pool. The leaves from the button-ball 
 and the surrounding bushes fall into the basin, 
 and, after whirling around for a few seconds, are 
 carried by the centrifugal force to the edge of the 
 pool, there forming a closely matted border.
 
 60 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Over the leaf-strewn margin bend feathery ferns 
 and tall spikes of cardinal flowers, while around 
 the plant-stalks winds the brilliant yellow dodder. 
 The ground all about the base of the tree is 
 covered with a velvety mass of dark green moss, 
 in which grows sprays of partridge-vine dotted 
 with bright red berries. 
 
 Overhead shines the soft June sun, warm yet 
 soothing, giving forth so refreshing a warmth that 
 one feels it to his very finger-tips and sighs to 
 think the rare June days speed by so quickly. On 
 the moss beside the spring reclines a girl of some 
 ten summers. Occasionally she breathes a deep- 
 drawn sigh, and then passionate sobs break the 
 prevailing stillness, frightening away the robin 
 who has ventured to drink from the pool. The 
 lithe form trembles violently under the passionate 
 fit of weeping which has entire control of the 
 prostrate child. With an impatient gesture she 
 starts up, and resting on one elbow looks down 
 into the spring, while with the disengaged hand 
 she dashes back a tangled mass of short black 
 curls that have fallen about her face. The 
 features reflected are not beautiful, neither are they 
 passable just now, after the storm of weeping in 
 which their owner had been indulging. Her fore-
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRLVG. 6l 
 
 head is rather low, eyes of dark gray, at times 
 snapping like fire ; a thin, straight nose ; and 
 small mouth, just now so tightly closed that the 
 blood is forced away from the rather thin lips. 
 
 The girl lies so still that the robin cautiously 
 ventures back and stands poised on one foot as 
 he dips his beak into the water, then throwing 
 back his head, quickly swallows a few drops of 
 the liquid. She moves, and quick as a flash he is 
 away and up in the branches of the tree singing 
 or scolding as if he would burst his little throat. 
 Nellie's silent thoughts find vent in words: 
 slowly they are spoken, the voice husky with sup- 
 pressed emotion. " I wonder if I am like those 
 leaves down there. They drop off the tree, the wind 
 whisks them around and into the spring, then they 
 whirl round and round till I should think they'd 
 be dizzy, and all of a sudden go plump among the 
 hundreds of other leaves that lie matted together 
 there on the bank. If you didn't keep pretty close 
 watch of some one leaf you never in the wide, wide 
 world could tell which tree or bush it came from, 
 and I don't know as you could then, for they'd 
 just as likely as not get all mixed up, anyhow. 
 There, now, that little button-ball is off this 
 tree, of course, for it's the only one of the kind
 
 62 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 around here, fora longways. The world is made 
 up, I s'pose, of people that get mixed up just as 
 much as those leaves do ; and, if what they say 
 is true, p'raps nobody does know where I do 
 belong. I'll go straight home and ask mother 
 if she is my mother." 
 
 The child arose to go, but something arrested 
 her attention. Her nerves were under great ten- 
 sion and fairly tingling to gain a little relaxation. 
 In under the bank where she had been resting, 
 in a thick black coil, lay a water-snake sunning 
 himself. 
 
 " H'm, " she ejaculated, " I ain't afraid of you, 
 I guess ; " and with both hands she picked up a 
 large stone and forcibly threw it on to the snake. 
 The missile bounded off and the black coil, un- 
 winding, rapidly disappeared. Nellie recovered 
 her bonnet, which had dropped into the spring, 
 and then sauntered down through the meadow, 
 keeping close to the brookside, where wound a 
 narrow footpath. She was not in half as much 
 of a hurry as she had been before discovering the 
 snake ; consequently she trudged along absent- 
 mindedly, snipping off the wild carrot blossoms, 
 or robbing the daisies of their golden crowns. 
 
 Between- the brook and the house down the hill
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 63 
 
 was a field of finely growing young millet. From 
 the ten-acre lot on the other side of the house, 
 Nellie saw her father hastening toward the millet- 
 field, meanwhile shouting at the top of his voice, 
 " Hey, there, yeou critters, git eout o' that ere 
 millet, or I'll warm ye." But the cattle were 
 there before him and had made sad havoc among 
 the young shoots. Nellie could not help smiling ; 
 the scene was certainly ludicrous, although it was 
 through her neglect that the bars had been left 
 down. From the millet her mind reverted to the 
 party of school-children who were going berrying 
 that morning, and then her trouble came surging 
 over her again. Florence Pritchard was to be one 
 of the party, and Nellie would not go because 
 Florence was going. At school, the day before, 
 the two girls had had a slight altercation which 
 Florence had ended by the retort, " Well, you ain't 
 Nell Argylc, anyway ; you're only adopted, and 
 nobody knows where you do belong." 
 
 " Only adopted ! " What could she mean ? 
 Over and over in her brain, Nellie had been turn- 
 ing the words of that angry taunt. All through 
 the night, as she restlessly tossed about, she had 
 seen those hateful words staring at her in letters 
 of fire. Whichever way she turned she saw them
 
 64 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 still. She had eaten no breakfast, and her mother, 
 noticing the red eyelids and poor appetite, had 
 said, as soon as the dishes were done, " I am afraid 
 you have one of those headaches this morning, 
 dear ; run out and get a little fresh air before the 
 sun gets higher, It always does you good, you 
 know," so Nellie, who needed no second bidding, 
 had started off for her favorite haunt, the spring. 
 After all, she had concluded it was best to go and 
 ask mother all about it, and know for certain 
 whether there was any truth in what Florence had 
 said. 
 
 It was almost ten o'clock when this decision 
 was reached. Mrs. Argyle was wondering what 
 kept Nellie so long, as she sat in the back door 
 hulling strawberries only just picked from the 
 garden-patch. The motherly face was quite 
 flushed with the work she had been engaged in, 
 but notwithstanding her fatigue she sat humming 
 an old church tune. The berries were almost 
 done as Nellie came up the garden path, on each 
 side of which grew just such old-fashioned flowers 
 as thrived in the dear old garden where I have 
 passed many happy hours. Tiger and yellow 
 lilies lifted their heads above the more modest 
 spider-lilies, while white and purple iris contrasted
 
 THE STRUGGLE A T THE SPRING. 65 
 
 most agreeably with the brilliant hues of the 
 former. Ribbon-grass and rosemary grew humbly 
 at the foot of the damask rosebush ; while matri- 
 mony and single red rose vines tangled together 
 on the trellises at each side of the grape arbor. 
 Through all this wealth of bloom came Nellie, 
 her sun-bonnet dangling by the strings, but it 
 dropped to the ground as she sat down on the 
 white doorstone, and looked up at Mrs. Argyle 
 with a very pitiful face. 
 
 " What is, it, dearie, why, isn't your head 
 better yet, child ? " and Mrs. Argyle tenderly 
 stroked the curly head which sank sobbing into her 
 lap. When the heavy sobs ceased, between the 
 lesser ones came the question, " Mother, are you 
 my real mother?" 
 
 Mrs. Argyle was so astounded she could not 
 think for an instant how to best answer the child. 
 Then she said, " Why do you ask that question, 
 Nellie?" 
 
 " Because yesterday at school Florence Pritchard 
 said I was only adopted, and that nobody knew 
 where I did belong." 
 
 " Florence Pritchard is a very unkind little girl." 
 
 " But ain't you my own mother, truly ? Tell 
 me yes, and then I don't care what any one says."
 
 66 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Haven't I always been a mother to you, child ? " 
 How it made her heart ache the thought that 
 now the bond of love which had so closely bound 
 them might be about to be broken asunder. She 
 could not bear to frame the words which might 
 have much to do with making or marring Nellie's 
 future. She could not know how the news would 
 act upon the child when aware it was truth. 
 Nellie's answer, and another question were already 
 falling on her ear. 
 
 " Yes, you have always been a mother to me, 
 but what did Florence mean, then ? " 
 
 " Nellie, dear, I certainly will tell you truly, 
 though I had fully intended you should not know 
 for years yet, and perhaps never on this earth. 
 However, Florence's meddling, or in all prob- 
 ability, her mother's, makes an explanation 
 really necessary. It is true that you are our 
 adopted daughter, but as dear to us as our own 
 flesh and blood. Years ago I had a little Nellie, 
 bright and winsome, who grew to be three years 
 old, and then she was taken away from us. Only 
 those who have themselves laid away their little 
 ones can ever know how sad our lives were, and 
 how drearily the years rolled on. As one by one 
 they passed away, the longing desire for another
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 67 
 
 little sunbeam to come and brighten our home 
 grew stronger and stronger, though the wound at 
 our hearts was by no means healed over, and the 
 first little Nellie would never be less dear to us : 
 but, if possible, far dearer. We finally decided 
 that some day we would go in search of some little 
 girl who needed a home. When that decision was 
 reached, it seemed as if the way was directly opened 
 for us. One Thanksgiving, father took his offering 
 to a children's home, and by accident or, as we 
 always said, providentially, came across you ; and 
 the moment he saw you loved you, for you looked 
 so much like our lost one. You were then in an 
 orphan asylum, but they gave you to us for our 
 own, and so you have always been and always 
 shall be." 
 
 Nellie was listening intently, but at that mo- 
 ment Deacon Argyle came up, very red in the 
 face, and considerably out of breath, while anger 
 blazed in his usually kindly eyes. 
 
 " Nellie, did you leave those bars down ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I shall have to punish you severely. It was 
 gross carelessness, mother, I'm afeard the millet 
 is about ruined." 
 
 Mrs. Argyle glanced at Nellie. The child was
 
 68 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 so full of pent-up grief she could not have her 
 even scolded now. 
 
 ; " She did not do it intentionally; did you, 
 child ? " 
 
 Nellie shook her head which was bowed, and 
 resting in her hands. She could not find voice to 
 answer. The Deacon caught the warning glance 
 cast at him by his wife, and said abruptly, 
 
 " What's the matter now anything of more 
 consequence than my three acres of millet ? " 
 
 " Florence Pritchard has taunted our little girl 
 with being an adopted child." 
 
 Mr, Argyle bristled up all in an instant. 
 
 " Them Pritchards are a meddlin' lot ; and I'd 
 thank 'em to mind their own business." 
 
 Though occasionally angry with her for a mo- 
 ment, still he loved the child as tende'rly as on 
 the day of their first meeting. But if in human 
 nature there was one trait more than another 
 which the Deacon could not in any wise tolerate, 
 it was meddling gossiping; and to think they 
 should dare attack his Nellie was altogether too 
 much for endurance. The anger toward her died 
 out of his voice as he said, 
 
 " Of course you're our girl. Didn't the Lord 
 and the law give her to us, wife ? If Mrs.
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 69 
 
 Pritchard don't stop meddlin' with my affairs, I'll 
 have her brought afore the church. I will, sure 
 as preachin'. She's got altogether too long a 
 tongue. Better be lookin' arter her own darter, 
 instead o' meddlin' with other folkses. Don't 
 you mind a word they say, Nellie. You can 
 hold your head as high as the next one, for there 
 aint no common blood in your veins. You've 
 got the old blue blood in you, same as all the 
 Argyles has, and don't you mind 'em. 
 
 " Adopted," he muttered as he started back to 
 his work. " " H'm, guess I know a thing or two yet. 
 Don't s'pose I'm quite such an old dolt as some 
 folks seem to think I am, to adopt such a little 
 waif out of an asylum and will her all our property 
 and bring her up like a Christian without findin' 
 out as much as I could about her. It don't make 
 any difference how much I know or don't know, 
 there can't nobody make me believe she ain't aris- 
 tocracy, and she's my darter, too, by law ; and some 
 day I hope the poor leetle creeter '11 know who 
 her own kin be or was. Hope in all goodness 
 'twon't be till arter wife and I are over yonder in 
 the churchyard ; fer I couldn't noways bear to 
 give her up now. Perhaps she hain't got any 
 folks and perhaps she has. Them Pritchards "
 
 70 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 he said no more but went to work hoeing his 
 potato patch with a vengeance. 
 
 In the meantime Mrs. Argyle and Nellie went 
 into the little summer kitchen, a shed-like addition 
 to the regular living-room, but sheltered from the 
 weather by a sudden rise in the land, against which 
 was built a stone wall. Along the edge of the 
 grassy knoll and slanting over to the shed were 
 trellises where wild grape-vines clambered, thus 
 keeping the kitchen comparatively well shaded, 
 and at the same time a pleasant place to work in. 
 Mrs. Argyle went about preparing dinne"r, making 
 the short-cake while Nellie mashed and sweet- 
 ened the berries. Nellie said very little, never 
 once referring to her new-found knowledge. She 
 seemed stunned by the facts as presented to her. 
 Mr. Argyle's words did not seem to weigh much 
 upon her mind. She felt he was endeavoring to 
 make the blow less severe, yet she would like to 
 know what he meant, and whether she really was 
 somebody in particular. She did venture the 
 remark, 
 
 " What did father mean by blue blood, 
 mother ? " and the answer, 
 
 " I have told you all I can, Nellie dear," silenced 
 her ; but it aroused another question in her mind,
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 71 
 
 and that was, " Could there be more, that for some 
 reason or other could not be told to her ? " Then 
 she bravely and sensibly reasoned that she would 
 wait till they should see fit to make further rev- 
 elations, if such there were to be made. The 
 child of ten had grown years older in the last few 
 hours. A cross had been given to her to carry, 
 which would be burdensome for years yet to come. 
 Another thing mother had said, though ; and 
 that was, she should see the dress she wore when 
 she came to the asylum. Perhaps she should 
 find a little comfort in that. Dinner was over and 
 the house tidied up for the Sabbath, and Mrs. 
 Argyle was about to fulfill her promise to Nellie, 
 when the west door opened unceremoniously and 
 a neighbor walked in. She removed her hat and 
 using it as a fan, sat down in the rocking-chair by 
 the window, saying, 
 
 " Lovely arfternoon, Mis' Argyle, ain't it ? Too 
 nice to stay indoors. I was a sayin' so to Geof- 
 frey this noon, so thought I'd run in for a little 
 while and sit with you." She paused long enough 
 to put down her hat and take from her pocket 
 her knitting. As she worked and rocked, her 
 tongue ran on. 
 
 " Got lots of strawberries that want pickin',
 
 72 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ain't you ? I see the cattle have been in your 
 millet. Did the berryin' party leave the bars 
 down ? My ! it is dretfulwarm ! This is about the 
 coolest place I know of, and I said so to Geoffrey 
 this very mornin' that Mrs. Argyle'swest window 
 in the shade of the cherry-tree was about the 
 breeziest place in all Westbridge. Are you goin' 
 to have any cherries to pick on shares? for if you 
 have I'll send little Geoff over. I'm wantin' some 
 to do up." 
 
 Here she paused to catch her breath, while 
 Nellie looked daggers at her, wishing in her heart 
 that for once in her life Sabra Denton would stay 
 at home when she wasn't.wanted. She had such a 
 faculty for dropping in when there was the least 
 prospect of anything going on, and somehow she 
 knew intuitively, or otherwise, the ins and outs 
 of nearly every family in Westbridge. One 
 could not mention a person for miles around but 
 that Sabra, as every one called her, could give 
 some interesting information regarding them, and 
 thus it was that though a welcome guest in some 
 homes, in others she was a terror to be studiously 
 let alone, and harbored as short a time as courtesy 
 demanded. She knew full well that a ball had 
 been set to rolling, and her incidental dropping-
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 73 
 
 in was to ascertain, if possible, just how far it had 
 gone in its revolutions. Mrs. Argyle had some 
 idea of what Nellie's feelings were at this time so 
 she said, " Nellie dear, you may get that roll I 
 spoke of out of the left-end of the large red chest, 
 near the top. Do not disturb the other things if 
 you can avoid it." 
 
 With a grateful glance toward her mother, the 
 child left the room. 
 
 " Bring it down and let me see it, if it's anything 
 pretty," remarked inquisitive Sabra, but Nellie 
 was beyond hearing and it was well she was, for 
 respect was something Sabra Denton never com- 
 manded, either from children or their elders ; and 
 Nellie would have, given her an answer. 
 
 The newsmonger of the village, she had 
 brought herself into positions many times that 
 would have been humiliating in the extreme to 
 an ordinary person. She, however, caring nothing 
 about any reflections upon herself, was well 
 pleased with the hubbubs and furors created by 
 her busy twaddle. Although, ostensibly, her 
 reason for dropping in had been to enjoy the 
 cool breeze at Primrose Bank, the real motive 
 came to light at last. Sabra's last remark had 
 met with no response from Mrs. Argyle ; and both
 
 74 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 had knitted vigorously for a moment or two, when 
 the former said, " They tell me, Mrs. Argyle, 
 that Nellie ain't your very own child." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Well, Mis' Pritchard was a-tellin' me " 
 
 " Nellie is our child, I believe, and I sincerely 
 wish Mrs. Pritchard would leave my private af- 
 fairs alone." The emphasis on the " my " would 
 have silenced any one but Sabra, who con- 
 tinued, 
 
 " Oh. I don't mean no harm, Mis' Argyle, but I 
 was a-sayin' as how little resemblance there was 
 between you two and Nellie, and I was a-sayin' 
 how toppin' and high strung she was, not a bit 
 like you nor the deacon, and then Mis' Pritchard 
 up and told me all about you adoptin' her when 
 she was a leetle mite of a thing, and what a hard 
 time you've had a-bringin' her up, and what a 
 tantrummy little piece she is, and all such. I 
 allus thought Nellie was a pretty good sort of a 
 Ittle girl if she was fiery. For my part, I wouldn't 
 give a snap for a young 'un that hadn't got any 
 spunk." 
 
 " There are a few people this village would be 
 better off without, and Mrs. Pritchard is one of 
 them. She has been discussing affairs about
 
 THE STRUGGLE A T THE SPRING. 75 
 
 which she knows comparatively nothing, and if 
 she isn't very careful her busy tongue will bring 
 her trouble. Deacon Argyle says if she meddles 
 further with his private affairs he will bring her 
 up before the church." 
 
 " Laws, Mis' Argyle, you don't say. Now you 
 won't lisp a word I've said, will you, for I don't 
 want to get the woman into no trouble. I was 
 down there a-spendin' the afternoon with her, 
 and Florence was a-tellin' how high-flyin' Nellie 
 was at school, and how she couldn't get along 
 with her peaceably noways ; so that set Mis' 
 Pritchard a-talkin' about it. She said that temper 
 would be the ruin of her yet, and she felt so sorry 
 for you and the deacon ; but laws, it hain't done 
 no harm yet, and I shan't ever speak of it again 
 if it's offendin' to you." 
 
 " It has done harm already, irreparable 
 harm. My little Nellie was a contented happy 
 child, as much so as if she had been born under 
 this roof, and had never heard a word breathed but 
 that she was our own flesh and blood ; and but for 
 the tongues of meddling gossipers would know 
 nothing different now. For Florence Pritchard 
 to take the news to school and taunt Nellie with 
 it is a scandalous shame. It would be well for
 
 76 S TORM-S WEPT. 
 
 Mrs. Pritchard to bear in mind the fact that lame 
 chickens come home to roost. I don't wish you 
 to go about the neighborhood raking it up and 
 making village talk of it, for Nellie is almost 
 heart-broken now over Florence's cruel words. 
 
 " Well, I'm mighty sorry I've got into the mess, 
 anyhow, but, Mis' Argyle, you can depend on it, 
 I won't never mention it if you feel so about it." 
 
 A coolness settled over the conversation and 
 Sabra soon rose to go, saying she must run over 
 and see Mis Wooster a few minutes, for she 
 wanted to get her receipt for canning strawberries ; 
 adding, " I s'pose you ain't got any you want 
 picked on shares, I wanted to get a few." But 
 Mrs. Argyle did not take the hint ; neither did she 
 have any berries to spare. When Sabra had 
 taken her departure Mrs. Argyle went up to the 
 store-room where the old red chest was kept. On 
 the floor sat Nellie with two or three gauzy little 
 garments in her lap. How caressingly she handled 
 the soft clothing she had worn when a baby. 
 That she had been somebody's darling was evi- 
 dent, for the texture was of the finest, and the 
 drawn-work and hemstitching done by hand : 
 while the narrow lace fulled into the neck and 
 sleeves was of spider-web fineness. Mrs. Argyle
 
 THE STRUGGLE AT THE SPRING. 77 
 
 passed on to her own room, thinking the child 
 would be better left alone. 
 
 The afternoon was passing and tea-time came. 
 Nellie had not put in an appearance, so Mrs. 
 Argyle went in search of her. There lay the child 
 on the floor sound asleep, her hand resting on the 
 little garments wet with her tears. Poor little 
 Nellie ! the awakening had come, and she knew 
 she was an adopted child. As always at some 
 period in everyone's life the wheel of destiny be- 
 gins to revolve ; so that time had come in the 
 heretofore placid experience of Nellie Argyle. 
 To some it seems as if the world moved on year in 
 and year out and brought no changes. Hum- 
 drum everyday life is the same to-day as yesterday ; 
 but suddenly, with no warning, there comes an 
 instant when on some little pivot the great machin- 
 ery of important events begins to turn ; and, 
 before one realizes the fact, wheels are revolving, 
 belts are running, and the steady rumble of the 
 machinery of the universe tells of the speedy 
 approach of change.
 
 78 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 " Little little do we know 
 What the future hath in store, 
 What there is that lieth before 
 Any one of us.!' 
 
 HE long summer days were over; the 
 katydids had ceased their rasping call, 
 fields lay bare and brown, waiting for 
 the softly falling snows. Had you 
 dropped into the grocery-store down in the 
 village, you would have found several farmers 
 gathered about the air-tight stove, and as the 
 hickory -knots blazed and crackled, the men, seated 
 around on sugar and flour barrels, or soap or cracker 
 boxes, would have told you of the wonderful har- 
 vest they had reaped. This one had an enormous 
 crop of corn ; that one had acres of first-class 
 wheat; another was the proud possessor of a crop 
 of potatoes that couldn't be beaten ; and all 
 were correspondingly jubilant over their good 
 fortune.
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 79 
 
 Deacon Argyle had run down to the store to 
 see if there was any mail, it being a regular country 
 store containing groceries, ginghams and notions, 
 together with a few hogsheads of old New Eng- 
 land rum and hard cider ; while the proprietor, 
 Jared Cooper, gloried in the title of postmaster, 
 and delighted in passing over his counter the 
 scant amount of mail-matter which came to the 
 two small villages of Fairbury and Westbridge. 
 
 Neither place, of itself, was large enough to 
 demand a post-office ; but, after some bickering, 
 Government had named Fairbury as a village where 
 the post-office should be located ; it also to be 
 the place for the reception and delivery of West- 
 bridge mail-matter. 
 
 The deacon was dilating on his extraordinary 
 millet crop, which, notwithstanding its grave pull- 
 back, had rallied and grown miraculously. 
 
 " Here, deacon, is a letter from York," said 
 Jared, leaning over the counter and looking in- 
 quiringly into the deacon's face. " Don't appear 
 to be very heavily loaded," he added, as he watched 
 the deacon wonderingly examine the superscrip- 
 tion. He made no reply, but turned to go. 
 " Hold on a minute. Air we agoin' to give the 
 parson a donation this Thanksgiving ? "
 
 8o STORM-SWKPT. 
 
 "Yes, yes;" and he turned back to join the 
 crowd around the stove. 
 
 " Deacon Argyle, you start the ball a-rollin', 
 and we'll all give it a push. What's your share ? " 
 said Jared, as he familiarly brought his hand down 
 on the deacon's shoulders. 
 
 " Fifteen bushel o' potatoes, as smooth as the 
 back o' your hand," he replied, and then the 
 others chimed in ; they were in the giving 
 mood. 
 
 Barrels of apples and bushels of turnips, onions, 
 corn and beans, sugar-cured hams, and strips of 
 bacon, all were promised in^quick succession, to- 
 gether with several cords of hickory thrown in. 
 All agreed to go early Thanksgiving morning, and 
 leave their donation at the parsonage door, and 
 then, with a cheery " Good-night," the deacon 
 turned his steps toward home. It was after nine 
 o'clock when he arrived there, and Nellie had 
 retired. Laying aside his overcoat and heavy 
 boots, he seated himself beside the small stand 
 which Mrs. Argyle had drawn up to the open fire- 
 place. He held the letter in close proximity to 
 the lamp, at the same time throwing back his head 
 in order to obtain the proper focus, though I 
 doubt much whether he realized why he did so.
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 81 
 
 He read the letter over to himself, and then aloud 
 to his wife, who sat opposite, her deft fingers, 
 busy with needle and yarn, filling up openings in 
 the coarse blue homeknit sock which was stretched 
 over her hand. 
 
 " I can't make out what it means, wife ! No- 
 body's said anything about Parson Thorpe goin' 
 and nobody wants him to not as I know of. It 
 must be some mistake, but," he continued, again 
 closely examining the envelope, " it's Deacon E. 
 Argyle, Westbridge, so it's to me, of course." 
 
 " Look over the Year Book and see if the man's 
 name is among the preachers without charge," 
 suggested Mrs. Argyle. So the deacon searched 
 the Year Book for the name signed at the foot of 
 the letter. 
 
 " Ah, here it is," and, with his fingers resting on 
 the page the deacon read, Robert A. Mitchell, 
 D.D., New York City. That was all, and that 
 was the name signed to the letter. 
 
 " Well," said he, folding up the letter and slid- 
 ing it back into the envelope, " I'll just drop him 
 a line to say there ain't any vacancy here, for 
 we're all well satisfied with Parson Thorpe." 
 So the letter was written and mailed next day. 
 Mrs. Argyle sat watching her husband, his stiff
 
 82 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 fingers guiding the pen, as he scratched off a few 
 lines. 
 
 " It 'ud be a mighty good chance for some 
 country church to get a D.D. for a minister, and 
 all just because he wanted just a few years of rest 
 and quiet after the strain of his heavy labor," 
 she ventured to remark. 
 
 But the letter went, and the days sped by, and 
 Thanksgiving eve arrived. At nightfall a blind- 
 ing snowstorm set in. Little drifts were already 
 piling up on the window-sills, and when an outside 
 door was opened, a gust of wind would send a 
 flurry of snowflakes into the room. On such a 
 night one is perfectly content to rest his feet on 
 the fender, and be thankful he has a cheery, cozy 
 home to stay in. Deacon Argyle sat thus beside 
 the fireplace while his wife was busy making final 
 preparations for the morrow. She was one of the 
 few people who invariably take time by the fore- 
 lock; everything is done decently and in good 
 season, one piece of work never crowds upon 
 another ; but all of the intricate duties of a farm 
 house fitting into place as nicely as the pieces of 
 a dissected puzzle. And so it was that the little 
 odds and ends of work done this evening would 
 make it very easy for all to attend service on the
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 83 
 
 morrow, and still have a grand Thanksgiving din- 
 ner, such as only a New England housewife can 
 prepare. 
 
 Nellie sat on a low stool beside her father, her 
 chin resting in her hands, as she gazed into the 
 roaring fire, and watched the sparks ascending the 
 wide-mouthed chimney. Their quiet was suddenly 
 disturbed by the sound of stamping feet, as some 
 one removed the snow from his shoes, then there 
 came a hurried knock at the door. Mrs. Argyle 
 was there as soon as the hand touched the 
 knocker, and she swung the door wide open, 
 while a young man, whose broad shoulders were 
 laden with snow, entered the room, and with him 
 a cutting blast of frosty, snow-freighted air. He 
 spoke hurriedly : 
 
 " Deacon Argyle, father is very sick ; we fear he 
 has had a shock ; will you come over at once ? 
 Mother is alone with him, and I must hurry back." 
 
 Struck almost dumb with amazement, the 
 deacon and his wife in unison gasped, " Parson 
 Thorpe had a shock ! " 
 
 It took Mrs. Argyle but an instant to compre- 
 hend ; then, hastily gathering together the 
 deacon's storm-garments, she assisted him in well 
 muffling himself.
 
 84 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Be careful of your footing, father ; I see the 
 snow is making fast." Then to the young man> 
 " Tell your mother she has my sympathy and 
 prayers. I would go myself, but dare notventure 
 out in such a storm, neither would it be right to 
 leave Nellie alone. Father, you had better stop 
 for Mrs. Sackett on the way. She lives quite 
 near, and may be of assistance. Here is your 
 lantern and some matches ; you will have need of 
 both, I think, for the snow is blinding, and the 
 wind is strong." 
 
 Nellie stood by the door with her mother, peer- 
 ing out through the crack into the darkness, 
 which was made even more plainly visible in one 
 little place by the flickering light from the lan- 
 tern. As they closed the door on the retreating 
 forms which bent before the biting blast, both 
 instinctively walked to the fireplace and with 
 arms about each other stood looking into the 
 cheerful blaze. Nellie broke the silence by 
 asking, " Do you suppose this is a blizzard, 
 mother ? " 
 
 " I do not know, child, I never experienced one ; 
 but this is a fearful storm ; I think I never saw 
 one worse. It can't possibly last like this a great 
 while ; I am anxious about your father ; I do hope
 
 A FA TEFUL STORM. 85 
 
 he wont try to come back alone to-night if it con- 
 tinues in this way." 
 
 After sitting for a little while, Nellie went to 
 her room over the kitchen, leaving Mrs. Argyle 
 by the fireplace, busy with her never-failing piece 
 of knitting. This time it was a scarlet mitten, 
 one of a pair which mother wanted to place in 
 Nellie's Christmas stocking. The click of the 
 knitting-needles beat swifter time than the tall old 
 clock whrch stood at the end of the room, its heavy 
 iron weights moving almost imperceptibly as the 
 hours sped by. A whirring sound, and the solemn 
 tones, which had measured over a century of 
 time, rang out the hour of eleven. The storm still 
 raged ; the wind howled and swept around the 
 house, piling the snow up to the window-sills; in 
 some places the drifts reaching far up on to the 
 panes. Wide-spreading branches of the great 
 maples bent and creaked as the gale swept over 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. Argyle stepped to the door to look out, 
 but the snow almost blinded her, and the wind 
 fairly took away her breath. She then went to 
 the window determined so see what there was to 
 be seen. With a cloth rung out of hot water, she 
 melted the frost from the pane and gazed out in-
 
 86 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 to the Stygian darkness. Now and then in the 
 distance she caught a glimmer of light ; it was 
 surely a miracle if any one could manage to keep 
 a lantern burning in such a gale. Hoping it was 
 the deacon so nearly home, she placed a light 
 before the window and set herself about the task 
 of keeping the frost from the panes. Soon, think- 
 ing she heard his voice, she opened the door and 
 beheld him floundering in the snow which had 
 piled high up against the rear of the house. 
 Almost exhausted he sank into the chair she had 
 placed for him. As soon as he could find voice 
 to speak he said., 
 
 " Parson Thorpe has preached his last sermon, 
 wife. " 
 
 " Then he is dead ? " 
 
 " Yes, as good as gone when I got there. I've 
 left Mrs. Sackett with 'em ; but what on earth 
 we're to do to-morrow I don't know. It's a union 
 meetin', you remember, and there'll be no preacher 
 there." 
 
 " Well, well, don't worry about it, there'll be 
 no need of one to-morrow, if this storm keeps up." 
 
 " That's true. I had hard work to get home. 
 Leon came as far as the turnpike ; he would see 
 me within sight of home anyhow."
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 87 
 
 " I was worried about you, the wind is so high, 
 and the snow so blinding. I'm afraid it will be 
 the worse for a good many who are out this 
 night. It acts to me like one of those Dakota 
 blizzards we frequently read about ; I do hope it 
 isn't. Hark ! Did you hear that crash ? It 
 seemed to shake the house." 
 
 " Some tree gone down, likely," the deacon 
 replied ; " perhaps the old chestnut down by the 
 brook, or the black-mulberry back of the store- 
 house ; for some time I've noticed that was 
 a-splittin.' " 
 
 " Listen ! didn't that sound like a human 
 voice?" Mrs. Argylc almost whispered. 
 
 " Some ; guess it was the train whistle over to 
 the junction. It'll get stalled I reckon pretty 
 soon if 'tain't already. Them car screeches do 
 sound like human voices sometimes. I declare 
 for't, if the snow ain't up to the window-sill 
 already. Why, it don't seem as if it could keep 
 on at this rate very much longer. I feel dreadful 
 sorry for poor Mrs. Thorpe, she's so patient and 
 quiet, poor soul, but I'm mighty glad I left Mis, 
 Sackett there. With Leon and her, they'll get 
 along comfortably. It makes it bad this snow 
 does. We'll have ter have a preacher from some-
 
 88 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 where, or else hold a union prayer-meetin'. I 
 wonder if that Doctor Mitchell I got that 
 letter from perhaps he'd like to take the pul- 
 pit now, but to-morrow is what I'm worried 
 about." 
 
 " Well, father," said Mrs. Argyle, " I wouldn't 
 worry, let the morrow take thought for the things 
 of itself. The Lord knows we're in want of a 
 preacher, and if it's best for us to have one to- 
 morrow, he'll send one along." 
 
 " Well, we'll have to wait and see what to- 
 morrow brings." 
 
 How often those words are spoken, and how 
 often the morrow holds in store much that shall 
 influence our whole future. 
 
 Bright and clear Thanksgiving morning dawned, 
 and Deacon Argyle awoke with a sense of the 
 great responsibility resting upon him. Being 
 first deacon in the church, the brunt of the plan- 
 ning and work devolved upon him, and all relied 
 on his sound judgment and excellent manage- 
 ment to keep the machinery of the church in 
 good running order. The snow was about four 
 feet deep on a level this memorable morning, and 
 a path was the first thing to be attended to. The 
 cattle and fowls would have to be reached and fed ;
 
 A FA TEFUL STORM. 89 
 
 so the Deacon fell to work with a will and made a 
 way to the barn and chicken-coop. 
 
 After breakfast he would go to the parsonage, 
 then the thought came that this was the morning 
 for donation. Would the men pluck up ambition 
 enough to attempt travel over the roads in their 
 present condition ? In all probability they would^ 
 for as yet none knew of the calamity which had 
 befallen them. However, the deacon started out 
 with his snow-plough, and having reached the post, 
 office told Jared Cooper of the pastor's death. 
 
 " No, you don't say so ! I'm powerful sorry, 
 and to-day to be a union meetin', too. Folks'll 
 have to be on the road pretty soon, I reckon, to 
 get there in time for service, but who will you get 
 to take charge ? Did you ever see such a storm, 
 deacon ? Beats all my recollections. 
 
 " By the way, the telegraph wire is broke down, 
 but the last dispatch as came over it was from the 
 midnight express. She's stalled over in the 
 Carmel Cut, and there's several passengers aboard. 
 Do you suppose it'll be possible ter reach 'em ? 
 The drifts are something terrible I should judge 
 by looking round ; but git several together, and 
 you might git 'em to a little pleasanter quarters. 
 It'll be a mighty glum Thanksgivin' there, I
 
 9 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 reckon, if some one don't do somethin'. There 
 ain't much to eat aboard, and I guess we'll all have 
 to share our turkeys with strangers." 
 
 To this Deacon Argyle made answer, " They'll 
 be thrice welcome, if we can only get at 'em ; but 
 the Cut's a mean place for a train ter get stalled 
 in, unless it's lucky enough to be at one end or 
 the other." His mind now engrossed with 
 thoughts of the imprisoned travellers, the deacon 
 made his way toward the parsonage, thinking 
 perhaps he should fall in with some of the men 
 who were bringing donations, nor was he wrong in 
 his surmise. Meeting several who, like himself, 
 had taken recourse to their snow-ploughs, he told 
 each one of the pastor's sudden death, and of the 
 stalled. train with its suffering passengers; and, 
 accordingly, one and all, after leaving their burdens 
 at the parsonage door, turned their horses' heads 
 in the direction of the Cut. 
 
 The farmers did not find it necessary to keep to 
 the roads, for the unbroken expanse of snow lay 
 over the tops of the fences, thus making it feasible 
 to take a bee-line for the ridge of hills which lay 
 along to the southeast. Indeed, it was a pictu- 
 resque sight, that long ridge of rocks, its fissures 
 and gullies filled up with snow, and the spruce
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 and fir trees heavily laden. Driving around to 
 the western end of the Cut, they discovered the 
 object of their search. To all appearances, the 
 engine had run into an enormous drift which 
 almost entirely filled up the entrance to the Cut, 
 and there was the train half buried in snow. A 
 few men out reconnoitring, gladly hailed the 
 half-dozen farmers, who, with their ploughs, drove 
 as near to the train as possible, then with a word 
 to their steady old farm-horses left them to stand 
 while it was ascertained what could be done for 
 the relief of those on board. 
 
 " We're most in need of some breakfast," said 
 the conductor, " and we have no facilities for pre- 
 paring any, nor much to prepare, for that matter. 
 Does your town boast a hotel, or what can we do ? " 
 
 As usual, Deacon Argyle was spokesman. "No, 
 sir, we don't own no hotel, but there's plenty of 
 farmers around who'll be only too glad to share 
 with their brethren in distress. We'll go inside 
 and see what we can do. How many passengers 
 are there ? " 
 
 " Oh, not more'n a dozen besides the train 
 hands." 
 
 " Then we can dispose of them without any 
 difficulty," replied the deacon.
 
 92 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 They boarded the train, and were soon in conver- 
 sation with the passengers. One tall, command- 
 ing-looking gentleman laid his hand on Deacon 
 Argyle's shoulder and said, " Sir, I shall be under 
 lasting obligation to you if you will find comfort- 
 able quarters for my wife and daughter here." 
 Taking a card from his pocket a'nd handing it to 
 the deacon, he added, " Mrs. Mitchell is already 
 suffering from a severe headache, and her nerves 
 are very much unstrung." 
 
 " Glad to make your acquaintance, Doctor ; 
 Providence has surely sent you along. I judge 
 from this card that you are the identical man who 
 wrote me a letter a short time ago." 
 
 '' Indeed ! Have I, then, the pleasure of ad- 
 dressing Deacon Elijah Argyle ? " 
 
 " That's my name, Doctor Mitchell, and I 
 reckon you're a godsend. Things have changed 
 mightily in the last few hours, but wife said it 'ud 
 come out all right. Our pastor died last night ; 
 had an apopletic stroke." 
 
 Dr. Mitchell expressed his regrets. 
 
 " We are to have a union meetin' to-day, and, 
 with no pastor and no way of letting the people 
 know, I'm all in a quandary. I was thinkin' of 
 you this mornin', and wonderin' if, perhaps, you
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 93 
 
 wouldn't like ter come now and be our regular 
 pastor. They generally leave such things pretty 
 much to me, and I reckon I speak the mind of all 
 when I say I'd like to have you think about it. 
 At any rate, perhaps you could help us out this 
 mornin' but sho ! it's no time for me to be dis- 
 cussin' this while the ladies are not made comfort- 
 able. See here, doctor, I've only my plough here ; 
 but if you'll wait half or three-quarters of an hour, 
 I'll go home and come back with my sleigh, and 
 you and your wife and daughter can come to my 
 house and welcome, and stay as long as you 
 like." 
 
 " It wants twenty minutes of nine," said Dr. 
 Mitchell ; " and if I am to assist with this morn- 
 ing's service the sooner I get to your house the 
 better. Then we have several shawls and rugs 
 with us, and it seems to me as though, with them, 
 Mrs. Mitchell and Olga could be made quite com- 
 fortable on that snow-plough. My wife needs rest 
 and quiet at once, for ever since last night when 
 the engineer blew that fearful shrieking whistle 
 she has been entirely unnerved." 
 
 "Just as you say, Doctor, just as you say; of 
 course, it's a rough-looking affair but it runs 
 smoothly."
 
 94 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Never mind the looks as long as she gets out 
 of this hubbub." 
 
 In a few moments Deacon Argyle, with Dr. 
 Mitchell and family, were fleeting over the mead- 
 ows and fences toward Primrose Bank. Soon the 
 long steep hill was in view and the tall church- 
 spire ; then they crossed the bridge over the ice- 
 bound river and passed on through the village up 
 the broad avenue, which in summer was shaded 
 most delightfully by stately maples, their bare 
 branches being now weighted down with snow. 
 Acre after acre of white stretched away in every 
 direction ; the houses lay half-buried in the drifts ; 
 while here and there was occasionally to be seen 
 a man tunnelling his way through a huge snow- 
 bank. Not a fence nor a shrub was discernible. 
 Dr. Mitchell thought it would be a very slim con- 
 gregation that would be able to meet any preacher 
 at the church they had just passed. Impulsive 
 little Nell stood with her face against the pane 
 looking down the road. 
 
 " Mother," she called, " here comes father 
 with the plough full of people. Who can they 
 be?" 
 
 Mrs. Argyle and Nellie were at the door as the 
 Deacon drove up. What a different Thanksgiv-
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 95 
 
 ing than had been anticipated, all were to have! 
 Breakfast having been served, and Mrs. Mitchell 
 made comfortable, the doctor seated himself by 
 the open grate in the wide, low-ceiled sitting- 
 room, rubbing his hands and now and then turn- 
 ing the palms toward the genial blaze. Deacon 
 Argyle stood with his hand on the high mantel 
 as he thoughtfully watched the doctor, evidently 
 expecting him to say something. The doctor 
 spoke, " Well, Deacon Argyle, of course I am 
 not prepared to occupy any pulpit ; but, under 
 the circumstances, shall be only too glad to aid 
 you ; and in regard to the other matter, I am as 
 yet free to accept a charge wherever I may be 
 called. I had not again written to the gentleman 
 whose letter was sent you by mistake. I had 
 been informed there was a vacant pulpit at West- 
 ridge." 
 
 " Westridge ? Why, this is Westbridge ! 
 that's where the mistake must lie," said Deacon 
 Argyle, and stepping to the secretary he took out 
 the letter. " Ah, yes, it is Westridge. Singular, 
 isn't it, that I have a namesake. I never knew 
 Elijah Argyles were so common before." 
 
 It seemed that Providence meant to send Dr. 
 Mitchell to Westbridge after all ; and in a short
 
 96 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 time, under such inauspicious circumstances he 
 preached his trial sermon. While sitting in his 
 pew a thought dawned upon the deacon's mind, 
 and as it grew and developed, he felt that in truth 
 God had a wise purpose in view when he allowed 
 so unusual a train of circumstances. Ah, well ! a 
 fine discourse was delivered, notwithstanding the 
 doctor's excuses, and in the fair-sized congrega- 
 tion every head was kept turning as people looked 
 one at another, as much as to say, " When have 
 we before heard such a sermon ! " At Deacon 
 Argyle's, a genuine New England Thanksgiving- 
 day was passing. Without, all was spotlessly 
 white, overhead a variable sky giving promise of 
 more snow. Within was a mammoth gobbler, 
 attended by all his satellites, in the shape of 
 vegetables, pumpkin pies, Indian puddings, and 
 other delectables which combine to make up a 
 real Thanksgiving dinner. Twilight had deep- 
 ened, and the cheerful light from the fire in the 
 old-fashioned chimney-place threw flickering 
 shadows dancing into the far corners of the long 
 kitchen ; and here where the blaze was brightest, 
 and the most homelike air reigned, all were 
 gathered as night dropped her dusky curtain over 
 the snowclad earth.
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 97 
 
 " It makes me think of old times when I was a 
 boy at home," said Dr. Mitchell. " Many times 
 have I sat at the twilight hour and watched the 
 fantastic shadows thrown by the blazing logs of 
 the fire; I, meanwhile, building castles in the air 
 till, in imagination, the wealth of the Caesars lay 
 at my feet, and every rock in the field seemed to 
 have proven an open sesame." And thus with 
 reminiscences and anecdotes, was the evening 
 pleasantly passed. 
 
 The morrow came, and with it knowledge that 
 throughout New England travel was pretty much 
 at a standstill. Miles of railroad tracks were 
 covered with snow, in some places the drifts 
 reaching to the telegraph wires. It would be 
 days at least before trains would be running. 
 Dr. Mitchell and family would remain over Sun- 
 day anyway; and then, too, there was Parson 
 Thorpe's funeral to be attended. The Sabbath 
 dawned, and it was necessary to dispose of the 
 dead preacher's body. No hearse nor carriage 
 could be procured, as was customary, from the 
 neighboring city. No horses could draw the load 
 to the cemetery on the hill, so what was to be 
 done but the best that could be under the cir- 
 cumstances. The body decently prepared for
 
 98 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 burial, and in its coffin, was placed in a large 
 farm-wagon and that drawn by some fifty men 
 across the lots and up the hill to the vault in the 
 cemetery, and there deposited to await the melt- 
 ing of the snow. 
 
 A meeting of the deacons was held, a call was 
 extended to Dr. Mitchell, and by him accepted. 
 Then came the question, " What can be done for 
 Mrs. Thorpe?" For thirty years her husband 
 had faithfully ministered to them ; but a small 
 country church seldom pays a salary that admits 
 of much being laid by for a rainy day ; conse- 
 quently Mrs. Thorpe and her son Leon had very 
 little to fall back upon. True, Leon was a young 
 man, but he was preparing for college ; and Mrs. 
 Thorpe would listen to no plan that should take 
 him out of school. 
 
 " Can she sew ? " said Dr. Mitchell to the deacon. 
 
 " My wife says she can't be beat. There ain't 
 a woman in Westbridge, nor Fairbury neither, 
 that can hold a candle to her sewin'," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " Then, I am confident my wife can procure for 
 her any amount of fine sewing if Mrs. Thorpe 
 so desires." 
 
 " Well, it does beat all," said the deacon, " and
 
 A FATEFUL STORM. 
 
 there's Captain Alden's old house, the prettiest 
 little cottage ever was, and empty too ; and she 
 can have it for a song," so Mrs. Thorpe was con- 
 sulted and arrangements completed, and Christ- 
 mas time found Leon Thorpe and his mother 
 occupants of the pleasant Alden cottage, while 
 Dr. Mitchel and family were ensconced in the 
 cosy little brown parsonage.
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE POND. 
 
 And though his plans he never showeth thee, 
 It is His wisdom that it should be so." 
 
 T was nearing sundown on a cold March 
 day. Near the horizon dark clouds 
 swiftly sailed over a pale yellow sky, and 
 the dull gray atmosphere that prevailed 
 seemed to fill one with gloomy forebodings. It 
 was, however, no time to indulge in such feel- 
 ings, for on the morrow Commencment exercises 
 were to be held at Lakeside Academy, and 
 the professor, together with several pupils who 
 were to take prominent parts, had remained 
 after school-hours for a final rehearsal. The 
 last to pass out of the building were Professor 
 Northrop and Leon Thorpe, the former speaking 
 encouraging words to the latter as he bade him 
 good-evening. In their recitations a good-natured 
 rivalry had existed between Leon and the village 
 doctor's son, Ralph, but the former had won the
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE POND. ioi 
 
 honorable rank of valedictorian, and when such 
 announcement was made, first after the professor 
 to come forward with hearty congratulations was 
 Ralph Strong. 
 
 " Well, old boy, I'm glad you've got it, for 
 you've won it fair and square. We'll try a race 
 again some day when we get fairly settled under 
 the elms at old Yale ; " and so the honors were 
 gracefully conceded to Leon, who had earned and 
 well deserved them. The boys were fast friends, 
 and, as intimated by Ralph's remark, intended 
 entering Yale together; having laid their plans, as 
 boys often will, that after the four years, course 
 Leon would enter the law school, while Ralph 
 would follow in his father's footsteps and study 
 medicine. After leaving the professor, Leon was 
 making his way toward home when he heard foot- 
 steps hurriedly approaching. In a moment his 
 name was called, and turning he beheld Olga 
 Mitchell running swiftly toward him. 
 
 " Oh, Leon, wait just a minute, I can't run 
 another step ! " 
 
 The child approaching for child she appeared 
 to be, though in reality nearly sixteen looked as 
 though she might have just stepped out from 
 some picture, her cheeks as rosy as the March
 
 102 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 wind could make them, laughing eyes, and golden 
 brown curls in truth, it was a sweet face, and 
 fair withal to look upon. So thought Leon Thorpe 
 as he listened to the half-gasped, half-whispered 
 words, as she tried to talk and at the same time 
 recover her breath. 
 
 " Mother wants to know if you can bring 
 over the dresses early this evening, so that we 
 can get them in perfect readiness for to-morrow? " 
 
 " With pleasure, Olga, by seven-thirty if pos- 
 sible, provided that is not too early, and might I 
 stay a very little while ? " 
 
 "Certainly you may. Just think of it, we're 
 going to the city as soon as we can get ready after 
 to-morrow, for a visit before father and mother 
 go to Europe, then you'll be off for college in the 
 fall, and I'm going to boarding-school. Oh, it'll 
 be ever and ever so long before I see you again. 
 Four years is an awful long time." 
 
 " But, just think, Olga, the sooner I go the 
 sooner I shall be back, and I've got to make every 
 term tell, then when I graduate from law-school 
 I shall look you up, and all will be as merry 
 as " he whistled the rest while his brown eyes 
 twinkled merrily and glanced slyly into the blue 
 ones beside him. The blue eyes drooped as
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE POND. 103 
 
 their owner fixed them upon the scarlet bow 
 which adorned the end of her muff. Her cheeks 
 were very, very rosy now and the full lips trem- 
 bled just a little as she said, " It's a long time 
 four years, and so much might happen." 
 
 " Yes, true, it might ; but I shall be home on 
 vacations, and you shall come to all the Commence- 
 ment exercises, and the promenades, if you 
 like, he added slowly, his brow clouding at the 
 thought of letting his little girl dance with any 
 of the college boys. He didn't quite relish the 
 idea. 
 
 " No, come to think of it, Olga, we'll leave out 
 the promenades, if you don't mind ; and would 
 you just as soon promise me that you won't dance 
 round dances with any other fellow but me? 
 Somehow, I can't bear to think that you will." 
 
 Olga laughed a little rippling laugh ; she was 
 vastly amused at the sedate manner of her com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Why, Leon Thorpe, you great foolish fellow, 
 not dance round dances with any one but you 
 when I don't know even the first step in danc- 
 ing I never danced in my life," and again she 
 laughed merrily. 
 
 " Oh, but you'll learn at boarding-school it's
 
 104 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 one of the fine arts, you know ; and you'll have to 
 learn that along with all the other sense and non- 
 sense." 
 
 " And pray, what nonsense will they not be 
 teaching you at college, at the same time, Mr. 
 Leon ? " she sarcastically inquired. 
 
 " Oh, I shall be a humdrum bookworm every 
 day I am there, because, you know, I've a great 
 deal to learn to be a lawyer." 
 
 " Just think of it, Lawyer Thorpe ! my, how 
 dignified it makes me feel to have for an escort a 
 judge in embryo ! " 
 
 " Now, seriously, Olga, will you promise? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Prim, of course I'll promise. Let 
 me see, I promise not to dance round dances; 
 something I don't know how to do, and never 
 expect to know how to do ; with any one except- 
 ing you. Is that what I'm expected to say ? " 
 He felt she was laughing at him, but he had her 
 promise, and he could stand a good deal from 
 Olga. 
 
 He changed the subject very abruptly. " It's 
 nearly five o'clock, little girl, but supposing we 
 get our skates and have a little while on the ice 
 before tea-time ? " 
 
 " That will be just lovely. We can't stay long,
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE POND. 
 
 I0 5 
 
 so to facilitate matters I'll skip home after my 
 skates while you go home and get yours ; and 
 don't forget about the dresses," she called back, 
 for she was already several yards away. 
 
 " Be on the pond promptly at five," he replied, 
 as the flying figure disappeared around the next 
 corner. Leon started off on a lively run, and in- 
 side of five minutes had hung his books on a hook 
 in the entry and was starting out again when he 
 heard his mother's voice calling, 
 
 " Is that you, Leon ? " 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 "Why are you so late ? " 
 
 " I remained after school with Professor North- 
 rop to rehearse my valedictory. Rethinks I shall 
 be able to go through with it nicely, J:hen won't 
 you be proud of your boy ? " 
 
 He had bounded up the stairs three steps at a 
 time, and, as he uttered the last words, stood bow- 
 ing before his mother in his most profound sfyle. 
 
 " I am always proud of you, Leon," she replied, 
 while tears of gratification dimmed her eyes; and 
 she affectionately kissed the happy glowing face 
 which bent toward hers. 
 
 He started to go and she again arrested him 
 with the question,
 
 io6 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Where to now ? It is nearly five o'clock." 
 
 " Oh, the ice on the pond is fine, and Olga and I 
 are going for a little skate before tea. I think 
 there is a storm brewing and I guess this will be 
 about the last of the skating. I'll be back by tea- 
 time." 
 
 " Very well, be careful ; you know I am so 
 afraid of the ice." 
 
 " Good-bye, little mother, never fear. By the 
 way, will Mrs. Mitchell's dresses be ready for me 
 to take over by half-past seven ? " 
 
 " Yes, all will be ready." 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 And Mrs. Thorpe heard him bounding down 
 the steps while a smile crossed her features as she 
 thought of her handsome, brown-haired boy just 
 blossoming into manhood, a son of whom any 
 mother might well be proud. Olga was on the 
 pond before Leon, and had taken a turn about 
 with Ralph Strong by the time he arrived. Al- 
 ready the ice was melting at the edge of the pond, 
 making it necessary to cross in a boat from the 
 shore to the island of ice. Near one end of the 
 island a bonfire had been made from a load of 
 branches which the boys had brought, and there 
 in the ruddy glow the young folks came to warm
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE POND. 
 
 107 
 
 themselves ; then, when the spirit moved, were off 
 in a trice to race, or cut their names, or describe 
 circles, or to perform a dozen other variations of 
 the delightful pastime of skating. For nearly an 
 hour Olga and Leon enjoyed themselves, and then 
 came .the thought that it was nearing tea-time, 
 and I assure you no one knows better than a 
 school-boy when meal-time is approaching. 
 
 Returning from a trip to the further end of the 
 pond, Olga and Leon wheeled up to the fire to 
 enjoy the warmth while waiting for the boat to 
 return, as a load of boys had been ferried over to 
 the shore. At the same instant Ralph Strong 
 who was standing with his back toward them, 
 started away from the bonfire for a last trip 
 around the pond. The boys' skates locked there 
 was a dull thud and Leon lay on the ice still and 
 pale as death. In an instant every skater had 
 rushed to the side of the senseless form. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, boys, disperse, the ice is 
 bending." 
 
 It was the stern voice of Doctor Strong shout- 
 ing to them from the shore. They started back 
 in alarm, and only a few were left about the in- 
 animate form which gentle hands lifted into the 
 boat and carried ashore. Under the Doctor's
 
 Io8 STORM SWEPT. 
 
 directions a stretcher was improvised, and on it 
 Leon was carried to the doctor's office. By the 
 use of restoratives he was brought to a state of 
 semi-consciousness, and then they tenderly bore 
 him to his home. Olga needed caring for, too, 
 poor child ! She was in a nervous chill, and Doctor 
 Strong sent Ralph home with her in his carriage. 
 As he lifted her out at the parsonage door, he said, 
 
 " Olga, you don't think I did it on purpose ? " 
 
 " No, Ralph, you couldn't, I know." " Thank 
 you. I shan't care now what any one says. It was 
 purely an accident which I regret most sincerely." 
 
 With a few words of explanation to Dr. and 
 Mrs. Mitchell, he left her in their charge and 
 returned to his father's office. Doctor Strong had 
 gone home with Leon, and on his return found 
 Ralph in waiting. A more sorrowful, dejected 
 countenance it would be difficult to imagine, 
 
 " Come, my boy," said the doctor, " and tell 
 me how it happened ; " and sitting there with his 
 father beside the open fireplace, in a straight- 
 forward manner Ralph related to him the par- 
 ticulars of the accident ; and then, with his head 
 bent in his hands, he wept tears of genuine grief. 
 
 " I am very sorry, Ralph. It will be almost a 
 miracle if he recovers. The skull is fractured and
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE POND. 109 
 
 I fear a serious case of concussion of the brain. 
 There is one chance in a thousand that he will 
 weather it through. If he does he will have to 
 wear a silver plate under his scalp. Poor boy, 
 how his mother will grieve ! She bore the news 
 very calmly, though ; for she seemed to realize 
 there was something to be done, and no time to 
 be wasted in lamentations. I tell you, boy, that 
 woman is a tower of strength. She certainly is a 
 wonderful woman." 
 
 Ralph's tears had subsided, and after some 
 moments of silence he said, " Father, I can't go 
 to college till I know Leon is out of danger. His 
 face would haunt me day and night." 
 
 " We will see, we will see ; though I hope for 
 the best." 
 
 The morrow dawned in due course, and the 
 class graduation exercises, were held, but there 
 seemed to be a pall hanging over the whole 
 school. He who was to have carried off the 
 honors lay on his couch in a stupor with the 
 death-angel hovering very near to him, while in 
 and out and about the house mechanically moved 
 a little woman whose peaceful face showed that 
 her trust lay in the Omnipotent and whose faith 
 was exceeding strong.
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 : And the sea is wide, and the pitiless tide 
 Bears on its bosom away, away, 
 Beauty and youth in relentless ruth 
 To its dark abyss for aye, for aye." 
 
 HE spring days began to lengthen, cow- 
 slips started up in the brook, and 
 trillium nodded its crimson blossoms 
 in the shadow of the forest trees. 
 Houstonias whitened the hillsides, and violets 
 lent their fragrance to the balmy May air. It 
 did not seem at all as if the previous month had 
 been one of showers, for but few had fallen, and 
 those had been very warm and mild. The patient 
 at the Alden Cottage was slowly improving, 
 thanks to Doctor Strong's unceasing attention, 
 and the untiring watchfulness of Mrs. Thorpe. 
 The doctor drove daily to the cottage, and 
 occasionally Ralph or Olga were allowed to see 
 Leon for a very few moments at a time, but nei- 
 ther visiting nor much conversation was allowed,
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 for rest and quiet were now putting in their work, 
 and were doing more for the patient than med- 
 icine. 
 
 Leon was now able to sit in a reclining chair, 
 and often Ralph would wheel him out on the wide 
 veranda which extended around three sides of 
 the house. Frequently when Olga brought work 
 for Mrs. Thorpe, she would also bring for Leon a 
 choice bouquet, just stopping long enough to give 
 a few pleasant words of greeting and encourage- 
 ment to the pale-faced young man whom it seemed 
 must now indeed give up all hope of ever under- 
 taking a college course. The bright spring days 
 sped on, and still Leon's condition remained about 
 the same. He lacked vitality, so Dr. Strong said ; 
 and the well-practiced physician racked his brain 
 to discover some idea, which could be made of 
 benefit to him. One early May evening Ralph 
 sat in his father's office reading a New Haven 
 paper. The doctor apparently was deep in the 
 study of a ponderous medical work, but suddenly 
 closing the volume he said, " Ralph my boy, 
 glance through the shipping news. What vessels 
 sail within a week ? " A list of a dozen or more 
 schooners and brigs was read, but none would sail 
 before the middle of May. " Don't you see the
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 schooner Ivernia ; Captain Perkins, I believe?" 
 " Ah ! here it is in the list of yesterday's arrivals, 
 with a cargo of coal from Norfolk. Then she 
 will be sailing in two weeks from now. That is 
 the one I have been thinking of. I fear Leon 
 will never amount to anything unless he has an 
 entire change ; and I think a sea voyage will do 
 him good, brace up his system, strengthen his 
 nerves, clear his brain, and bring back some of the 
 vitality he lost last March. Captain Perkins and 
 I were at school together ; and if he is the same 
 stamp of a man that he was of a boy, there is no 
 doubt but that I can make quite satisfactory 
 arrangements. Of course I shall shoulder every 
 cent of expense." 
 
 For several moments Ralph sat gazing into and 
 beyond the bright coal fire which burned in the 
 open grate. 
 
 " Father ? " 
 
 " Well, my son ? " 
 
 " Would it be safe for Leon to go alone ? " 
 
 " I think I could arrange it so it would be per- 
 fectly safe." 
 
 " Would it not be better for me to go to look 
 after him ? It need not cost you anything, 
 father, I would gladly work my passage ; but I
 
 SHIP WRECKED. 1 1 3 
 
 do want to do something toward helping forward 
 his recovery." 
 
 " I rather desired you to stay at home in order 
 to make further preparations for college. The 
 term opens in September, you know ? " 
 
 " But, father, I have no heart to put into study 
 till I am sure Leon is going to come out all right. 
 I never can go to college and make any sort of a 
 student, unless Leon can go too, and carry out 
 some of his cherished plans. I would gladly lose 
 a year out of my life if I might make some 
 amends for the suffering I have caused him ; " 
 and the large honest face looked imploringly up 
 into Dr. Strong's. 
 
 " I will think of it, Ralph, and now we will go 
 over and consult with Mrs. Thorpe. It is early 
 enough not yet eight." 
 
 They found the widow busy with her needle- 
 work, Leon having already retired. Dr. Strong 
 made known his errand, and said at the close, 
 " don't think of expense, Mrs. Thorpe ; for I feel 
 it my duty to bring that boy back to you in his 
 former well condition, if it is possible to do so." 
 Tears filled the mother's eyes and silently dropped 
 upon her work as she strove to regain her voice. 
 
 Dr. Strong you are exceedingly kind and thought- 
 8
 
 114 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ful, and I prefer that you do exactly as you think 
 best in the matter. As his physican and friend 
 you know better than I whether he is able to 
 stand the fatigue of the journey." 
 
 " I think it the most beneficial course that 
 could be adopted. Perhaps it will please you to 
 know that Ralph intends taking the trip with 
 him, in order that he shall be made as comfortable 
 in all ways as possible." 
 
 Mrs. Thorpe looked the thanks she could not 
 speak. They arose to go, but Dr. Strong called 
 back before closing the outer door behind him, " I 
 shall look up Captain Perkins to-morrow, Mrs. 
 Thorpe, and see what arrangements can be made.'' 
 The next morning found the doctor in the Cap- 
 tain's office on long wharf. A notice on the door 
 read that the captain would be back shortly ; so 
 Doctor Strong took a seat and waited. It was 
 years since he had been on long wharf. How 
 the place had changed. Dock after dock had 
 been built out into the sound, and ships, counting 
 into the hundreds, could easily be accommodated 
 with anchorage. All was hurry and bustle, as the 
 stevedores loaded and unloaded sundry cargoes. 
 
 How we go on in our lives, year after year, 
 little thinking of the changes going on about us,
 
 SHIP WRE CKED. 1 1 5 
 
 until some happening causes us to pause and look 
 around, and behold it is as though we had step- 
 ped into a strange city. Places we were carrying 
 in our minds as green fields, burst upon our view 
 like the work of genii, all transformed into parks, 
 and avenues bordered with beautiful residences ; 
 or else, quiet streets are given over to the rat- 
 tling drays and street-car lines familiar houses 
 gone, and towering blocks of factories making a 
 deafening hum and clatter : but we were too late 
 for the transformation scene ; and now no more 
 on memory's walls hang restful views of those 
 pleasant places, for a thought of the old picture 
 brings on the panorama which is a result of pass- 
 ing years. 
 
 Dr. Strong's soliloquy was brought to a close 
 by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, 
 accompanied by a rich bass voice, singing to the 
 air of Nancy Lee, 
 
 " Afloat on the staunch Ivernia, my lads, 
 Heave ho ! lads, ho ! heave ho, heave ho I " 
 
 At this juncture the captain opened the door 
 and discovered the doctor awaiting his return. 
 
 Arising, the latter said, " You seem in pretty 
 good spirits this morning, Captain, don't look
 
 I 
 
 1 1 6 S TORM-S WEP T. 
 
 much like a fit subject for medical skill," at the 
 same time handing him his card. " No, Doctor, 
 no let me see seems as though your face was 
 familiar can't just place you though." 
 
 " Hardly thought you would. Suppose you've 
 forgotten all about Professor Lovell's and little 
 Jack Strong that you and Philip Snyder sent up 
 the professer's favorite pear tree after pears one 
 memorable night ? " 
 
 " Ah, ha, well not quite ! I can almost hear the 
 professor saying, ' Look at them gently, boys.' 
 And so you are little Jack Strong? Glad to 
 renew your acquaintance, Jack ; but you've grown 
 considerable since then ; " and such a grip and 
 handshake as the captain gave the doctor would 
 have made a less strong man wince. " So you 
 dabble in medicines, do you, and I sail the taut- 
 est schooner afloat on the Sound. Aye, aye, she's 
 a beauty, she is ! Do you see her over there at 
 her moorings ? Black, green, and white striped 
 hulk. We sail in two weeks, perhaps less if all 
 goes well. Am getting her load off sooner than 
 I expected ; and hope to make the most of this 
 pleasant spell in getting on a cargo of lumber. 
 Most afraid it's a weather-breeder though." 
 
 " Then I am in good season ! Have you two
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 117 
 
 bunks to let to a couple of passengers for the 
 round trip ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I can manage it ; who wants to go ? " 
 Then, in a few words, the doctor explained 
 how matters stood ; and it ended in the captain 
 saying, "Well, I should be much pleased to have 
 the boys take a trip with me. I intended taking 
 my daughter Grace along, but she finally backed 
 out. Reckon she'll be sorry now when she hears 
 there's other company. She thought 'twould be 
 rather dull music along with such an old fogy as 
 I am. Children nowadays are queerer than they 
 used to be, I'm thinking. Mine is, anyhow, I 
 know. Well, send them along as early as possi- 
 ble ; for we expect to be afloat as soon as we can 
 get our load on." 
 
 In answer to further inquiries he said, " We 
 shall be back in port by the last of June at the 
 latest." At that point some one else claimed the 
 captain's attention, and the doctor took his 
 departure. Mrs. Thorpe was taken entirely by 
 surprise when she learned that the boys must be 
 in readiness to sail as soon as possible ; but the 
 brave little woman did not falter now when the 
 health of her boy was at stake ; so she made ready 
 as far as lay in her power, and Dr. Strong supplied
 
 1 1 8 S TORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the deficiencies. When Leon was informed of 
 the plan he acquiesced most heartily ; being glad 
 of a chance to see a little of life on the ocean. 
 Ralph was on his way to Mrs. Thorpe's, when 
 he overtook Olga going to the post-office, and 
 he then told her of their intended trip. She 
 clapped her hands with delight. " I am so glad," 
 she said, " for I haven't a doubt but that it will 
 do him lots of good." That night Doctor Mitchell 
 sent down to Mrs. Thorpe a steamer-chair and 
 rug for Leon's use during the voyage. 
 
 The day after the boys boarded her, the Ivernia 
 sailed out of the harbor, and past the break-water, 
 and in a few hours had rounded Montauk Point, 
 and was ploughing the blue waters of the Atlantic. 
 
 The second day out, Ralph was leaning against 
 the railing, while Leon, wrapped in Doctor 
 Mitchell's comfortable rug, sat enjoying his first 
 full day on the ocean. It was a delightful morn- 
 ing, atmosphere clear, air bracing, sky flecked 
 with billowy clouds, while before a northwest 
 wind the taut little schooner sped lightly on 
 toward her southern port. 
 
 The third day out dawned clear and bright, but 
 as the day advanced the castle-clouds gathered 
 apace, and a pink haze hung around the horizon.
 
 SHIP WRECKED. -119 
 
 The sea settled itself into even billows as though 
 quietly signalling its resting forces. Up from the 
 northwest rose the storm clouds, and as night 
 drew on, the angry waves were lashing the crafts 
 afloat, while a thick chilling rain-mantle spread 
 itself over a sleeping world. Our boys were cozily 
 ensconced in the cabin, enjoying a game of 
 authors. As the night advanced the darkness 
 grew intense. The wind blew a gale, while, with 
 sails closely reefed, and every movable article 
 fastened to the deck, the Ivernia fairly flew over 
 the mountainous waves, now riding the foam- 
 crested billows, and anon having her decks swept 
 by the angry sea. No one thought of going to 
 bed. There was too much excitement on board, 
 for the storm promised the little vessel hard 
 work, if she weathered it through. The boys 
 were all excitement and could hardly attend to 
 their game, for the Captain had forbidden their 
 going on deck. " Land-lubbers hadn't legs that 
 would stand under them during a heavy sea," he 
 said, " and what was more, he'd rather have them 
 get fattened up a little more before he sent them 
 down to feed the fishes." 
 
 The boys obeyed the captain's orders much 
 against their own wishes. Supper was served at
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 seven o'clock, and shortly after the captain went 
 on deck. With his glass he scanned the horizon. 
 Inky darkness prevailed, but about five miles 
 away shone the green light on the port side 
 of a vessel This gave the captain no uneasiness 
 as the Ivernia's lights were burning, and must 
 have been visible to people on board the other 
 ship. As they rapidly approached her the flash- 
 light was turned to show that a sailing vessel was 
 near ; the steamer, for such it proved to be, kept 
 on its way, never altering its course, and Captain 
 Perkins began to fear there would be a collision. 
 " Hard a port ! hard a port ! " he shouted ; and 
 like a race-horse the Ivernia started forward. 
 
 The next instant the steamer too plunged 
 ahead, as if incensed at a possibility of losing 
 her prey ; and, in a breath, the Ivernia struck her 
 amidships tearing a great hole in her side. The 
 schooner's bowsprit swept the steamer's deck and 
 knocked the captain from the bridge. Then the 
 vessel swung about until almost side by side, and 
 for a fraction of a second there was the solemn 
 hush of death. Then burst forth a chorus of 
 agonizing human cries. On the great steamer's 
 decks men and women darted hither and thither, 
 and soon was heard thud after thud as they
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 jumped down upon the Ivernia's decks. All on 
 board the schooner had rushed to the scene of 
 horror. Alas ! the Ivernia was \vounded as badly 
 as the steamer. 
 
 " To the boats, to the boats !" shouted Captain 
 Perkins, whose face showed pale to the lips as he 
 stood under the light of the binnacle lamp ; and 
 with a broad axe they cut away the fastenings of 
 the long boat. 
 
 " Forward, men !" he shouted. It was a fight 
 for life to keep back the interlopers. One by one 
 the Ivernia's men dropped into their places. "Are 
 you all there," the captain shouted. 
 
 " All but Matt," called back one of the seamen. 
 " He ran aft when the vessel struck." 
 
 A glance in that direction discovered him lying 
 apparently dead on the deck. Kind-hearted Cap- 
 tain Perkins was at his side in an instant, feeling 
 for his heart. Life was still there. Lifting him 
 in his strong arms he staggered to the side of the 
 vessel where the long boat lay, the crew almost 
 crazy in their endeavors to keep off the strangers 
 who nearly overturned the boat, in their attempts 
 to save themselves. 
 
 " Dead ! " whispered Leon as he saw the 
 blanched face.
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 '" Only stunned," said the captain ; and then all 
 held their breaths as they rowed away from the 
 sinking vessels. 
 
 Some of the steamer's crew had secured the 
 gang-plank. There were fourteen clinging to it. 
 The long boat passed them, and the captain threw 
 them a rope. The next instant he regretted it, 
 for the half-crazy men attempted to make their 
 way by it to the boat already full. His first 
 thought was to keep them in tow until relief 
 should possibly come. He shouted to them and 
 threatened to cut the rope if one attempted to 
 board the boat ; and as he stood knife in hand, 
 they knew he meant what he said, consequently 
 no further attempts were made to reach the boat. 
 Soon an extra heavy sea turned the frail raft 
 bottom up and all went over with it. Seven 
 caught the plank as the waves strove to carry it 
 beyond their reach ; then, with giant strength, 
 regained a position upon it. A moment later an- 
 other big wave washed over it, and but five were 
 left. Poor creatures, still tenacious of life ! They 
 were in the water hanging on to the plank with 
 their hands and arms, too exhausted to climb 
 upon it. Their" heads lay on the board and only 
 for the convulsive tightening of their arms when
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 123 
 
 the sea washed over them, one would have 
 thought they were dead. They grew uncon- 
 scious, and as the relentless waves washed over 
 them, one by one they slipped quietly off into 
 eternity. One alone was left. A man with sil- 
 vered hair, and face haggard to look upon. Stolid 
 and stubborn he still clung to the raft. 
 
 " Crowd a little closer, men," said the captain, 
 " we'll take this fellow aboard if we can." 
 
 The sailors rested on their oars, the raft was 
 drawn up alongside the boat ; and the solitary 
 voyager was helped aboard. 
 
 " Thank God ! " he huskily whispered as he 
 grasped the captain's hand. 
 
 On they kept on their silent course, while all 
 about intense quiet reigned. Where at first was 
 an endless chorus of screams and prayers for help, 
 there was now only silence. The men seemed 
 struck dumb. Occasionally a dead body would 
 slip by in the cold water, face up, in the light of 
 the moon, which scudded in and out from behind 
 the fringes of the storm clouds. Behind rose the 
 tall masts of the sunken vessels with a few dark 
 forms clinging to the spars. They had stopped 
 rowing and were drifting with the tide. Day was 
 dawning and weary eyes were strained to catch
 
 124 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 sight of a sail. Hope, fear and suspense, were 
 stamped upon the faces of every one. About four 
 in the morning an ocean steamer was sighted, and 
 a flag of distress was raised. They were discov- 
 ered, and soon the steamer was seen to alter her 
 course, and then out there in that awful stillness, 
 between the sky and the solemn deep, those ship- 
 wrecked sailors raised their voices in thanks to 
 him who holds the ocean in the hollow of his 
 hand. It was a solemn moment, never to be for- 
 gotten, when those storm-tossed men sent swell- 
 ing over the rolling waves the grand old doxology 
 we all know and love so well. And then the res- 
 cuers arrived. All were taken on board, yes, 
 even poor stunned Matt who had all those hours 
 lain unconscious in the bottom of the boat. 
 Ralph trembled with apprehension of harm com- 
 ing to Leon by this seemingly untimely accident, 
 but hastened to secure the aid of the ship's phy- 
 sician who took charge of the invalid. The next 
 day Leon was obliged to remain in his berth, but 
 toward night begged of Ralph to go on deck and 
 find out what he could of their surroundings. 
 They were on board the Ocean Queen, for all the 
 articles in their state-room were marked with that 
 name. The doctor had answered, when asked
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 I2 5 
 
 whither they were bound, " For the West Indies." 
 Leaving Leon comfortably asleep, Ralph started 
 on a tour of inspection, in order to gain further 
 information. On reaching the deck his eyes at 
 once alighted on an imposing figure. It was a 
 tall, squarely-built man, not much over fifty ; 
 though his hair and beard would tell of a greater 
 weight of years, Wrapped in a large gray shawl, 
 and with a glazed cap settled on his head, he 
 stood, glass in hand, looking off over the broad 
 expanse of waves gilded by the setting sun. 
 Clouds like molten gold hung in the west, while 
 between them and the reflected gold of the ocean, 
 up into the sky shot great shafts of hazy light. A 
 dark bank of clouds spread all through the east- 
 ern sky, and far into the zenith ; and then like a 
 dissolving view, a glorious rainbow stood out pre- 
 dominant in gold, a golden bow upon a purple 
 curtain of cloud. The effect was sublime, and our 
 wrecked friends gladly grasped the thought that 
 the future might promise brighter than the past. 
 As the bright glory faded, and the rainbow dis- 
 appeared, Ralph approached the strange gentle- 
 man, but scarcely recognized in him the haggard 
 gray-locked man whom he had seen rescued from 
 the raft early that morning. Indeed, it seemed as
 
 126 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 though an interminable period had elapsed since 
 then. So much can be crowded into a little space 
 of time, that it makes that time appear longer 
 than years with lesser happenings. 
 
 " Can you tell me what port we are bound 
 for?" was Ralph's query, as he paused beside 
 the strange gentleman. 
 
 " Then you are a companion in misery? " 
 
 " Yes, the Ivernia was pretty badly shattered." 
 
 "The Ivernia? H'm ! I hold stock in her. 
 That means a trip to New Haven. Where is 
 your captain?" 
 
 " Below, sir, I think. I haven't seen him since 
 morning. In fact I have only just left my friend 
 for a few moments in order to ascertain our 
 whereabouts. He is an invalid, and pretty well 
 shocked by the collision." 
 
 " I understand our destination is Nassau, New 
 Providence ; one of the Bahamas. A thoroughly 
 delightful place." 
 
 " Then you have been there ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, my business frequently takes me 
 there; though just now I would much prefer 
 going in an opposite direction." 
 
 Placing his hand in an inside pocket, he drew 
 out a water-stained card.
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 I2 7 
 
 " That much survives the wreck, ' he said with 
 a half smile. 
 
 " Was there any one belonging to you on 
 board the steamer ? " said Ralph, as he read on 
 the slip of bristol board, Reginald Dean, Attorney 
 at Law, New York. 
 
 " No one but myself," came the answer in a 
 saddened tone. 
 
 " Is it possible you are the Lawyer Dean whom 
 my father so much admires? I wonder if it was 
 you who so successfully handled the Vandercroft 
 lawsuit some ten years ago ? " 
 
 " I am the man." 
 
 " My father, Dr. John Strong, often refers to 
 you. He was one of the heirs, if you remember." 
 And this was but the beginning of a lasting friend- 
 ship which sprang up between two noble natures. 
 Was it by accident they had come together ; or 
 rather a part of the plan of the Omnipotent ? 
 
 " How soon do you think we shall reach Nas- 
 sau ?" was the next commonplace offered by 
 Ralph. It was a little harder to converse 
 with this man now Ralph had found out who 
 he was. He was ready to sit at his feet and 
 learn. 
 
 " Probably in about two days. We were off
 
 I 2 8 S TORiM-S IV EP T. 
 
 Hatteras at the time of the wreck. Look here 
 do you see that line to the southeast ? " at the 
 same time handing the glass to Ralph. 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " That is Abaco Island. Before long we shall 
 be able to discern the light-house and trees on 
 the land. I have already observed some of 
 Mother Carey's chickens chasing us astern ; and 
 see, those are dolphins racing about our bow. 
 We may be in Nassau early day after to-morrow. 
 It is a most delightful place." 
 
 " I have never heard of the place beyond study- 
 ing a little about it at school " 
 
 " It is by far the cleanest city in the world, 
 and a great resort for invalids; though by no 
 means will you find the people all invalids." 
 
 " Indeed ! Then perhaps this unexpected trip 
 is a providential one for my friend. By the way, 
 how often do steamers sail for New York ? " 
 
 " Every four weeks in summer, and every t\vo 
 weeks in winter ; though a steamer goes to 
 Florida twice a week. In that way one can com- 
 municate with his friends frequently." 
 
 " How is the climate during the summer 
 months ?" 
 
 "Almost too warm to stay long at this season,
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 129 
 
 though the thermometer averages only 86 
 degrees throughout the summer." 
 
 " Then it will perhaps do Leon more good than 
 harm." 
 
 " May I ask who is this friend over whom you 
 seem to have so much care ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is a class-mate of mine. I am in a 
 measure to blame that he is an invalid ; so I am 
 trying to help my father make a well boy of 
 him." Then Ralph told Mr. Dean of the accident 
 on the ice. In conclusion he said, " I only hope 
 this unlucky mishap will not do him harm." 
 
 " Do not say unlucky, my lad ; for it may 
 result in being the most fortunate turn things 
 could have taken. Such an accident is a mere 
 trifle, when compared with the troubles which 
 come into some people's lives ; " and with a heavy 
 sigh Mr. Dean turned his face away to the north- 
 ward. Ralph went below and finding Leon yet 
 sleeping, procured ink and paper, and began a 
 letter home. He had written but a few lines when 
 the sleeper stirred uneasily and was soon awake. 
 It did not take long for Ralph to give a brief 
 account of his visit on deck. 
 9
 
 130 STOKM-SIVEPT, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 
 
 " In life's earnest conquest they only prevail, 
 Who daily march onward and never say fail." 
 
 APTAIN PERKINS also had made the 
 acquaintance of Mr. Dean, and the 
 quartette held frequent interesting in- 
 terviews. They stood in a group on 
 deck when the pilot came aboard soon after day- 
 break on the day but one following the fore- 
 going conversation. Their first view of Nassau 
 was indeed a treat for the boys with eyes weary 
 of watching the sea. The harbor a sheet of spark- 
 ling green lying between the steamer and that 
 isle of June, was a decided change from the deep 
 blue waves over which the steamer had been 
 riding. But the city with its waving palms, 
 bananas, low smooth houses, white streets, and 
 multitudinous swarthy faces, was a strange sight 
 to two New England lads. As they landed at
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 131 
 
 the wharf, it seemed as if something new met 
 them at every turn. Loads of sponges, cargoes 
 of fish, melons, fruits and vegetables strange to 
 northern eyes. Black men and women carrying 
 burdens upon their heads, and here and there 
 white people dressed in duck goods and summer 
 silks. Mr. Dean guided them to the Royal Vic- 
 toria Hotel, and helped them to feel at home. 
 The day following their arrival, while out on a 
 tour of inspection, the boys discovered a native 
 pounding a soft spot into a rock with a crow- 
 bar. 
 
 " Good-morning, my friend, what are you 
 about," inquired Ralph. 
 
 " Mornin', sah ; on'y jest plantin' a rose-tree." 
 
 " What, in that rock ? " 
 
 "Yes, sah, tings grows dat way heah, sah;" 
 and the fellow sat down to rest inviting conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 "You don't mean all things are planted this 
 way," said Leon. 
 
 " Sartin shuah, dey grows wild too, outen de 
 stone walls, sah." 
 
 "Then this must be a peculiar stone ; " and 
 Leon stooped and picked up a piece. 
 
 " Limestone, sah. De whole island is made of
 
 132 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 it, so are de houses. De watah filters through it, 
 dat makes tings grow, sah." 
 
 They came across one thing after another to 
 arouse wonder and delight, until the boys wished 
 that the doctor and Mrs. Thorpe were there, too; 
 for then their happiness would have been com- 
 plete. It would be three days before the Florida 
 steamer would sail again, so the boys contented 
 themselves with seeing the sights, doing the city, 
 and visiting near-by points of interest. The day 
 before the steamer sailed, Ralph spent every spare 
 moment he could muster, as his letter will testify, 
 in going into rhapsodies over the beauties of the 
 place they had reached after the terrors of the 
 wreck. He ended with a pressing invitation to 
 his father to bring 'Mrs. Thorpe down and see if 
 Nassau wasn't about as near a paradise as could 
 be on earth. -The ship's doctor had ordered rest 
 and quiet for Leon, so to return home at once 
 was out of the question ; and if one place more 
 than another was suited to invalids it surely was 
 in this pure air, and amid the beautiful sights of 
 this wonderful island city. We shall have a 
 better knowledge of the wonders of the place if 
 we look over Dr. Strong's shoulder as he eagerly 
 reads the letter which he has so hastily opened.
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 133 
 
 The papers had contained rumors of the wreck, 
 but nothing definite ; so Ralph's letter was relief 
 from a fearful suspense. 
 
 " DEAR FATHER, 
 
 " We are safe" " Thank God," said Doctor 
 Strong, and he hastened to Mrs. Thorpe's cottage 
 before he read another word. 
 
 He repeated the words, " They are safe," as he 
 entered the cottage door. 
 
 " God is ever ready to answer prayer, Doctor 
 Strong. I felt he would not send more than I 
 could bear. Where are they, and what of them ? " 
 And then they sat down in the bright glow of 
 the setting sun, and the doctor read aloud the 
 letter. 
 
 " NASSAU, N. P., June , 188 . 
 
 " DEAR FATHER, AND MRS. THORPE, 
 
 " We are safe here in Nassau, where the steamer 
 which picked us up was bound. Leon is brighten- 
 ing up wonderfully. Either the shock of the wreck, 
 or the delightfulness of this climate has worked a 
 decided change in him. You will both be pleased 
 to see how well he is getting on. Of course, before 
 this, you have read accounts of the wreck. It will
 
 134 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 fill a book to go into all the particulars. Only one 
 passenger that we know of was saved from the 
 steamer which struck us. He is a splendid man, 
 and you will be glad we have become acquainted 
 with him, I know. I enclose his card which he 
 gave me. He is the identical Vandercroft law- 
 yer. Won't you be glad to see him ? He has to 
 go to New Haven on business ; he owned stock 
 in the Ivernia, it seems. This affair seems to be 
 working out just like a story, though as the say- 
 ing goes, truth is stranger than fiction, and it 
 surely seems so. Mr. Dean took us to the Royal 
 Victoria Hotel the finest in the place. He has 
 been here before and has helped us to have a very 
 pleasant time. Captain Perkins is here also, and 
 does everything he can to make it pleasant for 
 us. When I get home I will tell you how bravely 
 he went back and rescued one of his crew a man 
 who has sailed with him for some years. His 
 head is hurt, so that his mind seems partly gone, 
 but he is all right otherwise. 
 
 " Captain Perkins says he will never see him 
 want. Matt follows us around like a faithful 
 animal. He seems to know we are his friends, 
 poor fellow ! He is large and well-built, and will 
 be able to work again, but he doesn't seem to
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 135 
 
 remember a thing that has happened. I feel so 
 sorry for him. I wonder if you couldn't set him at 
 work around home. He'll do anything you tell 
 him to. I know Captain Perkins would be de- 
 lighted if you would, but I'm sure he wouldn't 
 think of asking such a favor. 
 
 " I tell you, father, this is a wonderful place. A 
 sort of Paradise on earth. I never imagined 
 there could be such lovely place. The average 
 temperature is only 74. I am sitting on the veran- 
 da at our hotel enjoying the delightful sea-breeze 
 as I write. All around us stretches the ocean, dot- 
 ted with white-sailed boats, which, as well as a little 
 steam-tug, make short excursions to the near or 
 distant islands of this Bahama group. You would 
 never tire of looking at the sea. A long narrow 
 green island, like a strip of velvet, runs along our 
 front, separating the ocean proper from us, and 
 forming this quiet beautiful harbor, and you would 
 hardly believe it if I should tell you how many 
 shades of colorthe water takes on. You should see 
 the wonderful colored fishes which are brought to 
 the hotel every day ; some are mottled like the shell 
 of a tortoise, some are a bright indigo, others are 
 striped with canary yellow, and others are all 
 over a bright red.
 
 136 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ^"The air here is perfectly restful, and the little 
 cily with its coral houses, creamy-yellow and 
 golden-brown, with the many-gabled red roofs 
 without chimneys is a pretty sight. A girl would 
 go into ecstasies over it. Through the waving 
 boughs of the cocoanut trees, I watch the water 
 gleaming clear as crystal, but of a lovely turquoise 
 blue, then beyond is a strip of emerald, and 
 farther away the dark blue of the horizon, while 
 everywhere are white sails. In the channel are 
 half-submerged wrecks, relics of the time when 
 wrecking was a profession around here. We have 
 been in the sea-gardens, where with a sea-glass 
 one can look down to the bottom and see the 
 lovely ferns and lilies and sponges and coral and 
 colored fishes, and I don't know what not. With 
 a glass you can see objects at a depth of forty 
 feet. Last night we went to the lake of fire at 
 Waterloo. We stood on the bank, and it looked 
 like an ordinary lake, but the instant we pushed 
 off and dipped our oars it seemed to burst into 
 flame. Every drop from the blades was like 
 silver. It certainly is the most wonderful sight I 
 ever saw. The bishop's yacht will be here one 
 of these days, they say. It is a sort of chapel on 
 board a boat. There are pews and a pulpit.
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 137 
 
 When the bell tolls the people know it is church 
 time. Before many days we are going to Grants- 
 town to see the sights there. It is a town of 
 three thousand inhabitants, all colored ; and they 
 grow pineapples, bananas and cocoanuts around 
 their houses. The caves, and the Queen's stair- 
 case are other places we expect to visit. The 
 rainy reason will soon be here, and we shall have 
 to be making tracks for home, I suppose ; but I 
 tell you, there's a great change in Leon. Tell 
 Olga and Nellie we'll bring them each a string of 
 beads. Don't forget to send us some money. 
 Love to you and Leon's mother. 
 
 " RALPH and LEON." 
 
 In Dr. Strong's answer to Ralph he said, "Tell 
 Captain Perkins not to dispose of his man till he 
 has seen me ; " and Ralph knew that business 
 was settled. 
 
 " Mrs. Thorpe ; " and Doctor Strong sat back 
 in his chair, an intensely thoughtful expression 
 settling over his large honest face. " Mrs. 
 Thorpe," he reiterated, " Ralph needs a mother, 
 and Leon needs a father, are you willing to be a 
 mother to my motherless boy ? "
 
 138 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Then, without moving a muscle, he sat quietly 
 awaiting her answer. 
 
 " I fear, Doctor Strong, that your generosity is 
 getting the better of you." 
 
 " It is you who will be acting the generous 
 part. Mrs. Thorpe, I respect you in the highest 
 degree, and Leon I already love. My home 
 needs not a housekeeper, but a homekeeper a 
 mother; and I know of no woman to whom I 
 could more conscientiously pledge my heart and 
 life, and the love of my son." 
 
 " I accept your offer, Dr. Strong, and will en- 
 deavor to make your home a happy one." It 
 was a matter-of-fact wooing, of the most sensible 
 sort. When Ralph and Leon reached home, they 
 found this surprise in store for them, but, as the 
 parents had anticipated, both boys were equally 
 well pleased. Captain Perkins brought Matt with 
 him, and Dr. Strong took him as an experiment. 
 He proved himself worthy of his hire. The 
 present was well remembered, but the past was a 
 blank ; yet he looked forward to the future as 
 being alive with possibilities. He was more eager 
 than a school-boy to learn his lessons, and made 
 quite rapid progress under his two tutors, Ralph 
 and Leon. Matt soon proved himself so trusty
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 
 
 139 
 
 and faithful, that the doctor began to wonder 
 how he had ever gotten along without him. The 
 boys were not of much use, as both were prepar- 
 ing for college. 
 
 The morning after the wedding, Sabra Denton 
 came hastily into Mrs. Pritchard's by the back 
 door. Sabra seemed in an extra twitter this par- 
 ticular morning. She was just bubbling over 
 with some delicious draught of news ; and was 
 only waiting for Mrs. Pritchard to ask as usual, 
 
 " Well, Sabra, what on airth is up now ? " 
 
 " Hain't you heard the news, Mis' Pritchard? 
 Hain't you expected it right along ? I expected 
 it, and yet I didn't. I'm a leetle bit surprised some 
 ways, and some I ain't." 
 
 " Well, Sabra, supposin' you begin at the be- 
 ginnin', and tell me what you're talkin' about." 
 
 " Land to goodness ! Air you deef, dumb and 
 blind, Mis' Pritchard ? That old dolt of a Doctor 
 Strong, that I wouldn't hev to our old cat Bije, 
 got married married I say last night to our 
 proud widder, Lady Thorpe ! There ! you've 
 got it straight ! Would you a-thought it ? Was 
 you expectin' it ?" 
 
 "To tell the truth, Sabra, I hain't thought 
 much about it. I have noticed that he took an
 
 140 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 uncommon interest in her boy, and I've seen him 
 goin' back and forward there considerable, but I 
 most thought they was too old for such nonsense, 
 but then, I allus did say that you never can tell 
 by the looks of a toad how far it's a-going to 
 jump." 
 
 " And is that all you've got to say about it, 
 Mis' Pritchard ? Why, it clean took my breath 
 away ! It beats all I ever heard in the known 
 world ! Everybody knows she's thought that 
 doctor was a little god on wheels, ever sense he 
 took so much notice of Leon after he got hurt 
 on the ice. I kinder thought all that palaver 
 wasn't fer nothin', and I told Geoff so. Sez I, 
 ' You'll see somethin' come out of it yet. ' 
 
 " ' May be,' sez Geoff. 
 
 ' ' Hum, may bees don't fly 'cept in May,' 
 sez I." 
 
 " Hev you ever seen 'em out together, Sabra ? " 
 
 " No, can't say as I have, though I've seen his 
 carriage standin' there pretty often, and for a 
 good long while at a time, too. I shouldn't a 
 thought she'd a-liked the looks of that. I shouldn't, 
 I know. I'll bet there'll be music there yet. 
 Where there's mixt lots of children there allus is 
 a breeze."
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 141 
 
 "I wonder if she'll go to the doctor's right 
 away? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, there ain't no doubt of that, fer there 
 warn't no light in Mis' Thorpe's house last night 
 when I came home after takin' Mis' Mitchell's 
 butter over. She warn't to hum, so I s'pose I'll 
 have ter go again. Probably she was out to the 
 weddin' too." 
 
 " I wonder what she wore and where they was 
 married ? " 
 
 " Married to hum, of course, in her brown silk, 
 or a new one just like it. We can tell better if 
 she walks out in it A Sunday." 
 
 " S'pose now the Alden Cottage'll be fer rent. 
 Wonder who'll get it next ? " 
 
 " I s'pose she'll keep a girl? " 
 
 " Well, I don't believe she's strong enough to 
 take care of three men and that great house. Bet 
 she'll have a picnic straightenin' it out, for there 
 hain't been no woman there, only hired help, in a 
 good many years." 
 
 " Wonder how the boys'll take it ? " 
 
 "Guess there'll be some hifalutin'; fer when 
 boys get ter be as big as they be they're not a- 
 goin' to stand many innovations." 
 
 " Laws, Geoff's young 'uns was hard enough ter
 
 X 
 
 1 42 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 get along with, and they was little ; but then I 
 was their mother's sister, and could stand more 
 from 'em than most folks could, perhaps. Well, 
 it'll come out sooner or later, sech affairs allus dus." 
 
 " You seem to hev figgered it all out, Sabra. 
 Hain't left much fer me to do." 
 
 " Well, own up you air beat, Mis' Pritchard ; 
 did you really expect it ? " 
 
 " Don't be cut up, Sabra, but didn't you have 
 a little weakness there yourself once?" 
 
 " Land o' goodness, no ! I hain't no time fer 
 such stuff and nonsense. Didn't I just tell you I 
 wouldn't have him to doctor- the cat ? Oh, no, I 
 'ain't lookin' arfter no man. They're considerable 
 bother, I don't know what Geoff would do either. 
 He sets a sight o' store by me, Geoff does. I've 
 .allus been a mother to his children. Mis' Pritchard, 
 I want to ask your advice about a little matter of 
 business. When Geoff heard of Dr. Strong and 
 Miss Thorpe, what do you suppose he said ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure ! what did he say ? " 
 
 " Well, he said, sez he, Geoff did " 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, Sabra, you ain't 
 goin' to have a fit air you ? Yer face is es red es 
 a beet and yer tremblin'." 
 
 " No, I ain't goin' to have no fit, I guess I'm
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 
 
 goin' to have a husband. Guess I've as good a 
 right to get one as Widder Thorpe." 
 
 " Why, what are you gettin' at, Sabra ? " 
 
 " I came to ask your advice. I thought I'd see 
 if you'd make strange about the doctor and Mis' 
 Thorpe before I told you. Geoff sez, sez he, 
 'Well, Sabra, can't we get jined too? Then we'll 
 all be a nine days' wonder together.' You don't 
 think there's no wrong in marryin' my sister's 
 husband, do you ? I'm gettin' along in years, 
 and if I'm ever a-goin' to git any one ter lean on, 
 I'd better be about gittin' 'em, sez I." 
 
 " Well, well, Sabra, now you have clean took 
 my breath away ; but I'll tell you the honest 
 truth, I've often and often wondered why you 
 and Geoffrey didn't get married, fer you seem to 
 get along so nicely together, allus." 
 
 " Thank ye, Mis' Pritchard, said Sabra, smiling 
 and rising. " You'll probably see both couple of 
 us walkin' out next Sunday. We shall make 
 short work of it. We're too old to be gittin' up 
 outfits and sech." 
 
 " Say, Sabra, sit down a minute;. I hear 
 Deacon Argyle is goin' to send that little Harum- 
 Scarum to a real boardin'-school. Florence is 
 on pins to go, too."
 
 144 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " That Mitchell girl is a-goin". Her folks is 
 goin' to Europe, so I have heard. You know it's 
 fashionable now for parsons to take trips to 
 Europe. Great note, I think, for folks to go 
 gadding around the world and a chit of a girl like 
 that let loose in a boarding-school. They git up 
 to awful sights of mischief, when they're left like 
 that. Expect something will come of it sooner 
 or later." 
 
 " Deacon and Mis' Argyle set great store by 
 that black-eyed young 'un of theirn. I'd take 
 some of the spunk out of her, if I had a day's 
 dealin's with her. The little minx hain't treated 
 me decent sence the time it got out and noised 
 around that she was adopted. Dunno's it's 
 my fault, that she don't know who she b'longs 
 to." 
 
 " Well, I must be goin'. Do you think you'll 
 be lettin' Florence go to boardin'-school, Mis' 
 Pritchard ? She's as likely a girl as either of 
 them." 
 
 " Well, I dunno, hardly," said Mrs. Pritchard, 
 as she dried her hands on the roller towel, I guess 
 the schoolin' she'll get here '11 be about all we 
 can afford to give her. There ain't no use in 
 giving her too hifalutin' notions."
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 145 
 
 " We ain't goin' to have no time, nor invita- 
 tions, nor nothin', Mis' Pritchard ; so you needn't 
 feel slighted," called back Sabra, as she hurried 
 off towards home.
 
 146 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE STOLEN RIDE. 
 
 1 Broken the golden cord ; severed the silken tie ; 
 Never again will the old days come." 
 
 RARE Indian-summer day was ended. 
 The evening shadows had fallen, and 
 night crept on. A full moon sailed 
 in a cloudless sky, while earth-dwellers 
 breathed an atmosphere as balmy as that of the 
 far away June-time. Such days always will steal 
 in just before the cold and frost of winter begin 
 their reign ; golden chalices of promise, bearing 
 within them the scent of the roses and fresh- 
 mown hay, such as will come again when summer 
 returns. 
 
 In a select portion of the staid old City of Elms, 
 at a point where its level, cleanly-swept streets 
 bordered by towering elms lay at right angles, 
 and the jingle of bells on two horse-car lines can 
 be heard at all hours of the day, and as far into 
 the night as the old Puritan city allows noisy
 
 THE STOLEN RIDE. 147 
 
 travel and traffic to hold sway, stands Mrs. Catlin's 
 seminary. A -modest-looking building, flat-roofed, 
 and with a wide and comfortable veranda across 
 the front of the house, its supports well garlanded 
 with fragrant honeysuckle. The blossoms are 
 now well-nigh gone, a few honeycups here and 
 there hiding among the black-berried vines, almost 
 apologizing for being out so late in the autumn. 
 One of the front windows over the veranda is 
 partly open. Behind the curtain sits some one 
 slowly rocking. Some one comes along the brick- 
 paved street. The step-sounds cease, but the 
 brown grass bends under a young man's footsteps. 
 He pauses an instant beneath the large elm which 
 throws a weird shadow in the light of the moon. 
 " Nothing venture, nothing have," he mutters, 
 then with an agility which bespeaks gymnasium 
 practice, he is among the lower branches of the 
 tree ! Hark ! what means that owlish tu-whoo ? 
 It comes from the great elm. Slowly the curtain 
 is drawn back, the blind opens and a white ball is 
 thrown over into the tree. It is thrown back into 
 the room, and then the telegraph line is com- 
 pleted. 
 
 If we watch closely we shall see by the moon- 
 light a silver spot moving slowly from the tree to
 
 148 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the window where the blind stands just ajar. 
 The white spot disappears between the slats and 
 in a moment a handkerchief is tied on the blind. 
 The message has been received and answered, and 
 the occupant of the tree cautiously descends. It 
 was a daring feat in the moonlight, but then, one 
 will risk much for some cherished plan's sake, and 
 no accounting for the daring of a sophomore. It 
 was a pleasantly furnished apartment, half sitting- 
 room, half bed-chamber. Near a small crimson- 
 covered table sat a dark-haired girl poring over 
 the dry pages of a geometry. The light from the 
 student lamp fell on the book, her face being in 
 the shadow. The fingers of one hand toyed a 
 little nervously with the corners of the leaves as 
 the owner knitted her brow, apparently in deep 
 study. The other hand was almost buried in the 
 mass of black ringlets that clustered around the 
 sweet girlish face. Before the dressing-case stood 
 another form, that of a fair-haired girl, by some 
 two or more years the senior of the twain. A 
 flush of excitement reddened the plump cheeks 
 as she strove to smoothly coil the wealth of 
 blonde hair, which, as if bewitched, almost defied 
 her efforts. She accomplished the feat, and stood 
 fluffing out the becoming bang, then said, in a
 
 THE STOLEN RIDE. 149 
 
 half-doubting tone, " So, Nell, I suppose you still 
 think I'm awful." No answer came to this in- 
 quiry. In another moment the blonde was set- 
 tling upon her head a jaunty cap, then whirling 
 round, stood for an instant as she buttoned the 
 snugly fitting jacket. 
 
 " Look up, Nell, I want to see your eyes, I can 
 tell by them whether you are still displeased." 
 
 The dark eyes still rested on the book, but a 
 voice sweetly grave, answered, " I should certainly 
 not go, Olga, if I were you. There may be no 
 harm in the going, only that it is against the rules 
 of the school ; but it makes me feel badly to see 
 you so frequently in the company of Grace Per- 
 kins. Then it would make me despise myself to 
 go sneaking off with the Damocles sword of Mrs. 
 Catlin's wrath hanging over my head. However, 
 you are older than I, and of course have the privi- 
 lege of using your own judgment, which looks to 
 me just now as though it were about to play you 
 false." 
 
 " Listen, shades of Columbus ! Why, Nell 
 Argyle, Grace is the jolliest girl in the school. I 
 wish you were going too, and then you'd be in 
 love with her yourself. Now if I were a man 
 but alas, I am not, am I shocking you utterly.
 
 150 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 dear?" A ripple of silvery laughter as Nellie 
 shook her head. 
 
 " Olga, you ape that girl even to her language." 
 
 " But you see, Grace says so many really 'cute 
 things that they are actually catching, as it 
 were." 
 
 Nellie raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. 
 
 " Of course Grace's mother takes student room- 
 ers so she gets all the latest from the college, but 
 I verily believe the majority of them go there be- 
 cause Grace is so" jolly." 
 
 The little French clock with its Moscow chime 
 struck the half hour. 
 
 " Great Scott ! is that half-past eight ? I must 
 skip. Grace will be tired of waiting, and it would 
 be horridly mean to be left." 
 
 "When will you be back, Olga?" 
 
 " Oh, by ten, surely. You'll come down and 
 let me in, won't you ? there's a dear. I'm going 
 out by the west door now. Madame is entertain- 
 ing company in the parlor, and Mistress Mary, 
 quite contrary, is taking her after-tea constitu- 
 tional in the library ; so I'll get out as slick as a 
 whistle." She tossed a kiss to Nellie, and tripped 
 silently down the stairs. 
 
 Drop, drop, drop, went the tears on the open
 
 THE STOLEN RIDE. 151 
 
 page. Then down went the curly head, and the 
 owner indulged in a good hard cry. 
 
 "Oh, Olga ! Olga ! " she sobbed; " you were 
 my idol, but you are drifting away from me, you 
 are being drawn into the whirlpool by that siren. 
 We loved each other like sisters till that girl came 
 between us ; and she is winning you away from 
 me ; you, the only girl-friend I ever had. You 
 are light-hearted and care-free, with an own father 
 and mother, while I am only adopted. True, 
 Mother and Father Argyle are good and kind to 
 me, but my heart reaches out into the dark shut- 
 away past after my own mother. My mother 
 who cradled me in her arms, and who loved me 
 because I was her own flesh and blood. It is 
 kindred those in whose veins flows blood akin 
 to mine, it is they whom I long to see and know. 
 Oh, will the future ever bring to me any one that 
 is in reality an own blood relation ! It is so hard 
 to feel that one is entirely alone, not a soul in the 
 universe, as far as I know, who really and truly 
 belongs to me. And I love Olga so dearly, and 
 ever since that Thanksgiving blizzard we have 
 been like sisters ; and now to go on feeling that 
 undeserving girl is coming between us, I cannot 
 bear it ; and the tears drowned the words as the
 
 152 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 poor child wept bitterly. Olga had reached the 
 sidewalk without encountering any one. She 
 walked swiftly in the direction of the college, and 
 soon reached Mrs. Perkins' door. Grace met 
 her with a gushing greeting. " We were so 
 afraid you couldn't come, my dear. The boys are 
 out on the veranda enjoying a cigar. I won't ask 
 you to take off your things, and I'll have mine on 
 in a jiffy. Isn't it a glorious night ? " 
 
 They stepped out on to the veranda, and were 
 at once joined by two young men. 
 
 " Mr. Atherton ; Mr. Delamere ; Miss Mitchell." 
 Olga was thunderstruck. Grace's note had said 
 that Leon Thorpe was to accompany them. She 
 half-way stopped as the introduction was given, 
 while Grace hurriedly whispered, " Don't say a 
 word, Leon couldn't come ; backed out at the 
 last minute; so Fred had to bring some one. 
 You've met Clyde Delamere at the receptions, so 
 there isn't any harm. He's lovely company," and 
 Olga, without further remonstrance, though her 
 heart misgave her, allowed herself to be helped 
 into the carriage which was in waiting. The 
 whip snapped, and they were all off for a moon- 
 light drive. And Leon, sitting with Ralph, poring 
 over the morrow's lesson, had no thought but
 
 THE STOLEN RIDE. 1 5 3 
 
 that Olga was engaged in the same occupa- 
 tion. 
 
 It was a perfect night, one left over from late 
 summer, clear and mild. The full moon shone 
 wierdly, beautifully, through the fine meshes of 
 net-work made by the leafless elm branches. 
 Back from the substantial looking fences stood 
 the stately residences of New Haven's aristocracy. 
 Doric pillars and Ionic carvings, statuary, and 
 fountains of antique design whispering through 
 the stillness, of the scholarly residents, and sub- 
 stantial foundations of the storied city of Elms. 
 How Olga would have enjoyed it all had Leon 
 only been there. On they rode, out where the 
 curving river flashed back the silver of the moon- 
 beams ; on toward the sentinel rock over-looking 
 the city, and the foam-capped waves in the 
 harbor, where, at their rrtoorings, floated ships 
 from many foreign ports. 
 
 "Goodness! is this a Quaker meeting?" said 
 Grace, breaking the unbearable silence. 
 
 " I was thinking of the beauties of the night," 
 said Olga. 
 
 " Then you enjoy moonlight rides, Miss 
 Mitchell ? " It was Clyde Delamere who 
 spoke.
 
 154 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Yes, under some circumstances," was her in- 
 definite reply. 
 
 " Are they not propitious upon this particular 
 occasion ? " 
 
 " Not as much so as I might desire," came the 
 truthful answer. 
 
 " Ah, here was something out of the ordinary. 
 A girl who dared almost tell you she preferred 
 another's company to yours. Refreshing, to say 
 the least," so Delamere's thoughts ran on. 
 
 " Might I ask what more is necessary to com- 
 plete your happiness? " 
 
 " The company of some one with whom I am so 
 well acquainted that I may be privileged to re- 
 main silent, and yet not be considered rude. I 
 do not care to talk much on such a night as this. 
 So much beauty fills me with a solemn fullness 
 which makes idle conversation detestably com- 
 monplace." 
 
 " A queer girl," thought Clyde Delamere. 
 
 " Fiddlesticks," said Grace, and Fred Atherton 
 puckered up his lips and gave a prolonged whistle. 
 " Rats and nonsense," he confided to Grace ; but 
 Clyde had caught the contagion and quietly 
 allowed Olga to enjoy the beauties of the night. 
 And by that consideration he rose fifty per cent
 
 THE STOLEN RIDE. 
 
 in the estimation of Olga Mitchell. Battell Chapel 
 chimes had rung the half after ten when Olga 
 alighted at the corner, and lightly sped toward 
 the little brown gate. With her heart in her 
 mouth Olga stood at the west door awaiting the 
 coming of Nellie. In a moment she heard the 
 key turn in the lock, without a word she passed 
 in and quietly up the stairs. Nellie was there 
 almost as soon as she was. No remarks were 
 ventured upon either side, but both began pre- 
 paring to retire. " Why don't you ask me if I 
 had a good time, Nell ? " finally came in a quiet 
 whisper as she bent, unbuttoning her shoes. 
 
 " Because I judge from your looks that it was 
 hardly worth the daring." 
 
 " You're about right. Grace played me a mean 
 trick." 
 
 " No more than I expected." 
 
 " Now, for pity's sake don't begin to preach, 
 don't. It's enough to have this pinch in my side." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " Why, every time I think what a goose I was 
 to be led by her, there is a little pain in my side 
 just as if my breath stopped for a few seconds. 
 It is a dreadful disagreeable feeling and it makes 
 me feel mean from head to foot."
 
 156 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " What has Grace done to make you so pro- 
 voked, pray tell ? " 
 
 " Why, when I got to her house, instead of 
 Leon being there as I expected, and as she said 
 in her note, who was it but Clyde Delamere; you 
 know, that handsome black mustached fellow who 
 always comes to the receptions. Of course I'd 
 got there, and there was Grace and the boys and 
 the carriage, and the night was perfect, and like 
 a goose I went, when I ought to have turned 
 right around and come straight back home. I 
 didn't begin to enjoy myself; though the even- 
 ing was perfect, and to cap the climax what do 
 you think happened. That handsome puppy 
 offered to kiss me, yes he actually did offer to. 
 This is how it was. We were almost at the 
 corner coming home, and he slid his arm along 
 the back of the seat and brought his face too 
 near mine for comfort. Grace and Fred were 
 having a delightfully confidential time on the 
 front seat, and I don't suppose they would have 
 been diverted by much short of a smashup. 
 Well, his mustache actually brushed against my 
 cheek, and in a tone I shall never forget, he 
 actually said, ' What would you say if I should 
 kiss you ? ' I actually thought I should faint
 
 THE S TOLEN RIDE. \ 5 7 
 
 away, but I sat up as straight as possible, and 
 said in the haughtiest tone I could command, 
 ' You would not do it, you are too much of a 
 gentleman.' " 
 
 " I am," he said, in such a manly tone that my 
 respect for him went up ten per cent, but I tell 
 you, I'm glad I'm home ; and when I go skylark- 
 ing again with Grace Perkins she'll know it." 
 
 " I'm not going to preach, dear ; for I think 
 you've had your lesson, but really I'm not in the 
 least surprised. I haven't a particle of faith in 
 Grace. In all probability he took you for her 
 stamp, and I am under the impression that her 
 lips are a common on which every donkey in 
 college has the privilege of browsing. I intend 
 to keep my lips with the bloom on them." 
 
 " Why, Nell, you talk like a woman instead of 
 a girl. There must be a mistake in your age." 
 
 " No, I think not, for the crow's feet haven't be- 
 gun to appear yet. I hope no harm will come of 
 this escapade, but you'll have to "be awfully careful. 
 Do you think you shall continue his acquaintance ? 
 I'm afraid you'll be sorry if you do." 
 
 " I suppose that all depends. I like him for 
 some things, and for some I don't." 
 
 Then for a moment two white-robed forms
 
 158 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 knelt beside the couch, then a good-night kiss, 
 and the children slept. How little they could know 
 of the future ! Not even in dreams were either 
 troubled, and yet this night had been forged a 
 link as strong as any in either of their life-chains. 
 Ah, how little we know ! and yet had we known 
 would we have done differently ? We are all 
 self-willed, headstrong, at times ; and perhaps it 
 is all in the pattern. The knots show only on 
 the wrong side; and there are cross stitches and 
 snarls, and broken ends and barren places ; yet 
 on the right side is a beautiful whole. Then we 
 must not say, " I would have done thus or so," 
 for we do not know. Then again there are the 
 invisible lines, those threads which are drawn by 
 other people ; and on account of these, to make 
 our own pattern perfect, we must go in and out 
 and about and around, that the tangles may al- 
 ways come on the wrong side.
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 '59 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 " Memories ! fold them up, 
 
 Lay them sacredly by ; 
 What avails it to dream of the past, 
 The future for you and I." 
 
 FEW evenings after the stolen ride, 
 Clyde Delamere went to Leon's room 
 in search of a Greek Lexicon belong- 
 ing to the college library. 
 "I say, Thorpe, do you know Olga Mitchell," 
 came the query from the depths of the ponderous 
 volume. 
 
 " Why ? " came the Yankee answer to the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " I believe she came from your place, did she 
 not?" 
 
 " I have an acquaintance with the young lady 
 in question. Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, only she was in company with 
 me the other evening."
 
 160 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Indeed ? " 
 
 " Yes, I say, Thorpe, did you ever kiss her? " 
 
 " What impertinence ! " 
 
 " Impertinence be hanged. I attempted it that 
 evening." 
 
 " How dare you ! " and anger was visible in both 
 tone and looks. 
 
 " Oh, you needn't get mad about it. She re- 
 sented it of course. I say, Thorpe, she's an 
 angel. I'd like a further acquaintance with 
 her." 
 
 " And you've come to me confessing, hoping I 
 shall help you out ? " 
 
 " Just so ! I sent her some flowers the next 
 morning, but she returned them without a 
 word." 
 
 Leon smiled. 
 
 " I'd like to become better acquainted with 
 her. She seems much more sensible than ordi- 
 nary girls." 
 
 " How did you come to find that out ? " 
 
 " Oh, Grace Perkins fixed that up for me. She 
 knew I wanted to meet her, so she made out that 
 you would be one of the party, and instead it was 
 I see? However, the little game wasn't a suc- 
 cess. I tried to treat her as I do the other girls,
 
 CONFIDENCES. 161 
 
 and it didn't work, you see. Fix it up for me if 
 you can, Thorpe ; and I'll be your friend ever 
 after. I'm deuced sorry I offended her, but con- 
 found it, I didn't think she'd care." 
 
 Leon's reply was a question. " Have you told 
 her so ? " 
 
 " No, hang it, of course not." 
 
 " I should." 
 
 " Would you, really ? " 
 
 " I certainly should." 
 
 " How do you suppose she would take it ? " 
 
 " Like the lady that she is." 
 
 "By George, I'll do it. Thank you, Thorpe." 
 
 " I'll be hanged if I don't believe he's interested 
 there himself," Clyde mused as he hurried back 
 through the rain to his room in South Middle. 
 He was not a bad young man, only one of 
 those foolish, jolly fellows whom all the dash- 
 ing girls had made a great deal, of, until his 
 organ of self-esteem had been considerably en- 
 larged. 
 
 By a singular coincidence, on the evening in 
 question, Olga and Nellie sat by the register in 
 their cosy room while the rain drearily beat against 
 the side of the house, and fitful gusts sent the 
 great elm's branches scratching against the clap-
 
 162 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 boards. The light was well shaded, and the girls 
 had settled themselves for a quiet chat ; Nellie 
 seated in a wonderfully comfortable easy rocker, 
 her hands clasped over her dark unruly curls ; 
 while Olga half reclined on an Oriental divan. 
 
 " Ugh, such a moaning screeching wind is 
 enough to give one the creeps. I wouldn't like to 
 be crossing the ocean on a night like this." And 
 Olga involuntarily drew about her shoulders a 
 dainty soft-knit afghan. 
 
 " I'd love to be sitting by the fireplace in the 
 old kitchen, with mother knitting, and father 
 reading the news from the Sentinel." A long 
 sigh followed this mournfully delivered speech. 
 They were verging on homesickness. 
 
 Why is it that on such a night legions of old 
 home-memories will keep marching through one's 
 brain, inviting to combat the forces of the will 
 which have kept in submission these sacred and 
 loved associations? Ah, human nature is a 
 strange and mighty sovereign who strives for 
 mastery in the hearts of all earth-dwellers ! 
 
 Then in a sadly subdued tone came the thought 
 which at times took a strange hold upon light- 
 hearted, sunny-tempered Olga. " Honestly and 
 truly, Nell, I sometimes wonder if I am who I am.
 
 CONFIDENCES. 163 
 
 Do you know, for years and years I have imagined 
 I was adopted, and I have actually asked mother if 
 it was so ; but she says I am her own, and that 
 God gave me to her ; so I don't see but that it 
 must be only an hallucination, and I try so hard not 
 to think about it, but it will keep coming up in 
 my mind." 
 
 " What a strange thought ! How came you ever 
 to imagine such a thing ? " 
 
 "Oh, for ever since I can remember I have over 
 and over again dreamed of a man's face. The 
 dearest, kindest, and most tender face you could 
 possibly imagine. Such beautiful dark eyes, very 
 much like yours, Nell ; and now it's strange I 
 never thought of it before, they are very similar 
 in every way. But this face is such a pleasant 
 and kind face for a man, and truly, Nell, some- 
 times I dream he kisses me, and I awake at once 
 to find that it is only a dream." 
 
 " Perhaps it is the face of your future husband,'' 
 said Nell, with a half sad smile. Olga's remark 
 had stirred up all the old bitter feelings over 
 which she had had many hard struggles. 
 
 " Oh, no, that couldn't be, for this seems so 
 much older than I am, why, old enough, surely, 
 to be my father. By the way, I had a letter from
 
 164 STORM SWEPT. 
 
 mother this afternoon. She is coming home in 
 June, and in October she is going to take me to 
 Berlin, for a year or so of music : and I suppose 
 that will finish my schooling. If I get a chance, 
 I shall take a dip into painting, for I believe I 
 care more for art than music. If I could only 
 paint that face as I can see it, perhaps it wouldn't 
 haunt me as it does." 
 
 " Where is your mother now ? " 
 
 " In Glasgow. Father had business there, he 
 always has when they go abroad. I verily believe 
 he would like to live there. Wouldn't it be 
 strange if it should come to pass that you and I 
 should live on either side of the Atlantic ? " 
 
 " I hope not, Olga, I shouldn't like to think 
 you were going away off to live where I should 
 never see you again." 
 
 " Oh that couldn't be, you must come to see 
 me then, and perhaps I shall marry you off to a 
 descendant of one of those Scotch barons that 
 Deacon Argyle tells about. I don't know, though, 
 as father could exist forever outside of New York 
 City. I've often wondered how he came to stay 
 in Westbridge as long as he did ; only of course 
 I know it was for his health. Nevermind, dearie, 
 we've had some lovely times together, and its a
 
 CONFIDENCES. 165 
 
 long time to next October ; but when I do get 
 over there I'll write to you every week for sure, 
 and you must write to me. I want to make a con- 
 fession, Nell do you think Leon cares very much 
 about me ?" 
 
 " Is that your confession ?" 
 
 " Of course not ; but, truly, I imagine he 
 doesn't, and I am actually beginning to observe a 
 number of faults in him. I dare say he sees faults 
 in me, too. He's a splendid fellow and all that ; 
 but I think there are lots of girls he might like 
 better than me. We are both too young to be 
 settling such questions, I think, don't you?" 
 
 Nellie's mind reverted to the accident on the 
 pond, and to several other incidents when Olga's 
 first thought was of Leon ; but time works 
 change. 
 
 " I overheard a similar question discussed one 
 day. The gist of the matter was this. The girl 
 one would care for at seventeen. would be out of 
 the question at twenty ; and the one who was 
 chosen at twenty would be looked upon as not at 
 all suitable at twenty-five ; but that at the latter 
 age one might rest assured they were making a 
 proper choice." 
 
 " That must be why so many unhappy mar-
 
 i66 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 riages are made. The papers are full of accounts 
 of girls and boys getting married. I cannot for 
 the life of me see why girls can think of such 
 things." 
 
 " There is certainly nothing manly or womanly 
 in going off as if they were ashamed to have a 
 decently conducted wedding but we have 
 wandered off to nonsense, for us." 
 
 " Well, I have no more idea of getting married 
 than I have of taking a journey to the moon." 
 
 " It always seemed to me that there must be a 
 sort of telegraphic system between the two who 
 should be joined for life, and that each should 
 know for a fact that he or she belongs to the 
 other. I think it is a lovely thought that matches 
 are made in heaven, and that if one truly interprets 
 the telegrams, that the proper marriages will be 
 made." 
 
 " Answer me truly, Nell, don't you think it 
 foolish for girls of sixteen or under to become 
 engaged ? " 
 
 " I certainly do, Olga, and I would say eighteen 
 or younger, and perhaps twenty. Girls do not 
 know what their possibilities are for doing good 
 in the world, or for accomplishing anything along 
 given paths, until after they are of age. How do
 
 CONFIDENCES. 167 
 
 you or I know but that God has meant us for in- 
 struments in His hands to do some special work, 
 which only you or I may do ; and is it right for us 
 to so bind ourselves, while we are yet children, as 
 to interfere with something which later on we 
 must come to know should have been our life- 
 work?" 
 
 " How can you ever think such things out, 
 Nell? I believe you are a born genius ; and don't 
 for pity's sake go and spoil your future brilliant 
 career by any foolish acts." 
 
 " You are inclined to jest, but, have I started 
 oh any sidetrack to your knowledge? " 
 
 " No, Nell, nor do I think there is any danger 
 of it. You are too strong-minded, strong-willed, 
 or whatever you choose to call it. It is only the 
 weak ones, like poor me, who go jolting along 
 over the rough places. There goes the bell ! 
 Lights out in two minutes. We must hurry or 
 Mistress Prim will be on hand." 
 
 In another half hour quiet reigned in the place 
 of confidences, and Olga and Nellie slept.
 
 1 68 S TORM-S WEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PICNIC AT ECHO LAKE. 
 
 " A quiet lake like a picture fair, 
 
 Lies at the foot of the purple hills ; 
 
 Where the dreamy sunshine lingers long, 
 
 And softly gleams on the silver rills." 
 
 HE birds were up betimes twittering 
 among the branches on one particular 
 morning in early summer. Over the 
 hills the sun was rising into a clear 
 blue sky, while earth was all a-sparkle with glisten- 
 ing dew. As Nellie opened her window she was 
 sprinkled with drops from the fragrant honey- 
 suckle vines which clambered in a wild tangle up 
 from the porch below. The clock hands pointed 
 to the hour of four, but Nellie's eyes were wide 
 open, and sparkling as brightly as the beautiful 
 landscape that lay before her, rising in ridges and 
 settling in hollows. Through the undulating 
 meadow-land wound Mile Brook, and over at the 
 left was a piece of chestnut woods, while to the
 
 THE PICK1C AT ECHO LAKE. 169 
 
 right towered the church spire white and glisten- 
 ing against the bright fresh green of the fields 
 and hills beyond. The robins sang and swayed 
 in the branches of the old apple tree that stood 
 farther along by the back door, and Nellie's heart 
 was in full tune with the large golden-breasted 
 fellow who saucily sat on a low branch and sang 
 so lustily. 
 
 But as she descended to the herb-scented 
 kitchen, a strange feeling came over her for an 
 instant, almost as though the shadow of a passing 
 bird had fallen upon her ; so swiftly fleeting that 
 she wondered if a bird had really flown by, then 
 over her spirits settled a phantom-like presentiment 
 that there was near at hand, lurking somewhere 
 in the moments of the day, an undefinable some- 
 thing which would turn over a leaf in her life- 
 story. It could not be because the girls were not 
 coming, for had not her invitation been accepted, 
 and was not this the morning when father Argyle 
 was to meet them at the early train ? She would 
 shake off the uncanny feeling, and go about her 
 duties with a heart as light as ever. The day's 
 work was well on the way before Deacon Argyle 
 started for the depot to meet the 7:55 train. In 
 twenty minutes more the lunch-baskets stood on
 
 170 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the porch, and Nellie waited at the gate, moment- 
 arily expecting to see her father returning. 
 
 Almost before she was aware the girls were 
 devouring her with kisses, while her fresh cambric 
 gown received many wrinkles from sundry 
 enthusiastic hugs, interspersed with expressions 
 of admiration for Nellie's thoughtfulness. 
 
 " Just think of it," said Olga, " she's not only 
 taken pity on us poor mortals destined to spend 
 our summer vacation in that stuffy old seminary, 
 and invited us to spend the day, but as many as 
 can may stay a week." 
 
 Mrs. Argyle and Nellie served them with a light 
 lunch, and then the deacon drove up with his 
 lumber-box filled with straw, over which the girls 
 spread shawls ; then all clambered in and started 
 off for a straw-ride. The girls were ecstatic in 
 their exclamations, and well they might be. The 
 City of Elms is a beautiful place ; but beyond it 
 among the green ridges of hills which lie to the 
 north and east, and westward, are scenes and 
 homelike places, which neither artist's pencil nor 
 poet's pen, could picture in their full loveliness. 
 Canopies of branches interlaced above the dusty 
 roadway, fields of grain waving yellow and billowy 
 under the breath of passing breezes ; hills and
 
 THE PICNIC A T ECHO LAKE. 1 7 1 
 
 hollows overgrown with pink clover, white daisies, 
 and yellow butter-cups ; while the wild black- 
 berry vines creep in a tangle about their growing 
 places. 
 
 There is a break in a denseness of the woodland, 
 a sound as of tinkling bells, then a glimmer of 
 silver, and plashing of a shimmering waterfall, 
 but they do not pause there. Exclamations of 
 surprise and pleasure continue. 
 
 " Why, Nellie, why didn't you tell us you lived 
 in fairyland ? We should have been here long 
 ago if we had only known." " No wonder she 
 had things about as she wanted them at school, 
 for she surely must have them here." " Say, Nell, 
 I'll exchange homes with you if you'll say the 
 word : " and thus with pleasant bantering they 
 reached the borders of Echo Lake. Its smooth 
 waters gleamed like silver, and white and golden 
 lilies floated on its bosom. M'onarchs of the 
 forest grew near its margin, and brakes and ferns 
 bent over it. Here and there gleamed yellow 
 dodder, and crimson cardinal flowers, beautiful 
 things of a few days ; while the moss-grown 
 stones told of years of restfulness and solitude. 
 'Mid scenes like these Nellie had been reared ; 
 and here she brought her girl-friends to spend a
 
 172 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 few hours near to the heart of nature whom she 
 loved. 
 
 Had you asked her which of all the various 
 forms of nature was most lovely, she could not have 
 told you ; for she loved all, from the glint of 
 sunlight through the dense foliage, to the tiny 
 leaves and blossoms that nestled close to the 
 bosom of old Mother Earth. She loved the 
 mossy stones in the brook, and the sheltering 
 arms of the old forest trees ; yet withal, when 
 among these friends, as she was wont to call them, 
 there fell over her spirit a shadow of sadness, as 
 though with all these beautiful surroundings there 
 was something still lacking, a want in some recess 
 of her nature which was not satisfied. And after 
 all, are we not each and all conscious at times, 
 that within us is a want unfilled, a something 
 which the soul reaches out after and yet never 
 finds? Is it not the most plausible theory 
 imaginable, with the mind, heart and soul ever 
 reaching forward after this desired yet unattain- 
 able something, that when the death-angel closes 
 the doors of our earthly vision, another shall be 
 opened on things divine, and that then we shall 
 be satisfied ? 
 
 And who shall say that it may not be this which
 
 THE PICNIC A T ECHO LAKE. 1 73 
 
 we have so much desired, yet could not realize, 
 clothed as we were in our mortality, with 
 apparently so much on earth to live for, not 
 capable then of fully understanding that this life 
 is but the beginning, and death only the guardian 
 of the doorway through which we are allowed, 
 one by one, to enter into the fuller life beyond. 
 And in that beyond we shall live in the fulness 
 of a divine satisfaction ; our spirits dwelling in 
 the heavenly form even as we had our life and 
 being on earth below. Mysterious, and past find- 
 ing out, are the ways of our Creator; but there 
 rests not a shadow of a doubt but that beyond 
 the grave " we shall be satisfied." Such views of 
 grandeur as the one before us are well calculated 
 to teach us that our earth knowledge is extremely 
 limited ; and as we gaze, our brain seems filled 
 before we have realized a fraction of the sublimity 
 of nature's God. Back a little way, where we left 
 our girls in the bright summer sunshine, Deacon 
 Argyle had deposited them bag and baggage, and 
 had gone with the parting injunction, "You all 
 be hereabouts in the neighborhood of four o'clock, 
 for I'm goin' on to Beacon Falls, and I'll be back 
 by then." 
 
 " Say, girls ! You've often heard Nellie speak
 
 174 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 of a cave or some* such mysterious place near this 
 Echo Lake. Is it too far to go before dinner? 
 Notwithstanding that delightful lunch, I expect 
 if it was very long to dinner-time I should die 
 famished." 
 
 " How you talk?" 
 
 " How dare you ? " 
 
 "Shame on you, Olga Mitchell," and sundry 
 other exclamations came from the other girls, but 
 Olga was proof against it. 
 
 " Pshaw ! Nellie Argyle knows me ; and I know 
 there's something good in those baskets, now isn't 
 there, Nell ? Can't we just sample them ? " The 
 others held their breath and waited. 
 
 " It is rather a few steps over there, and the 
 ride has given me an appetite, too ; hasn't it 
 you, now own up, girls? All that are willing to 
 own up just come along and help undo these 
 fastenings ; " and immediately there was a grand 
 stampede for the baskets. In an incredibly short 
 time the cloth was spread, the dishes had been 
 tried in ever so many places until they would 
 stand without tipping, and then the merry party 
 dropped down arourfd that tempting spread. 
 
 At a motion from Olga, every head was bowed 
 while Nellie said grace. Then woe be unto the
 
 THE PICNIC AT ECHO LAKE. 
 
 chopped-ham sandwiches, and the cream-cakes, 
 and the diluted contents of a small bottle, said 
 contents proving to be lemon juice and sugar. 
 Whipped-cream cake, and fresh-picked berries, dis- 
 appeared in their turn, and then packing-up time 
 came. There was enough left for a good lunch 
 on their return ; and after storing things in as 
 small a space as possible, Nellie led the way toward 
 the cave. 
 
 " What have you in that parcel, Nell ? " queried 
 one as she saw her carefully guarding an odd 
 looking bundle. 
 
 " Oh, that is one of the most necessary articles 
 we shall use on this expedition," she answered, 
 and then many and varied were the surmises in 
 regard to the mystery, as they termed it. The 
 footpath was quite narrow, and apparently led off 
 into the woods ; but after walking some distance, 
 a sudden turn brought them face to face with a 
 huge rock. Then Nellie untied her mysterious 
 parcel, and produced candles and matches. 
 
 " Is it dark ? " gasped a faint-hearted member 
 of the party. 
 
 " Oh-h-h ! I don't dare go in," said another. 
 
 " I'll wait till you come back," said still another ; 
 and then ; -
 
 176 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " We shall not come back this way," from Nel- 
 lie, and Olga laughed, saying, " It's not, To go or 
 no.t to go, that isn't the question, there's no al- 
 ternative ; " therefore each took a lighted candle 
 and bending beneath a tangle of vines entered 
 through an opening in the rough gray stone. 
 
 The next instant a volley of " Ohs " sent the 
 echoes sounding, where they could not tell; till 
 they died away like the reverberations of distant 
 music. They tried it again and stood entranced. 
 Then, as the sensation of fear died out, they dis- 
 covered what a beautiful place they were in. A 
 chamber whose walls glistened like silver in the 
 flickering candle-light. The floor was partly 
 covered with mosses and lichens, while here and 
 there were sparkling pools of water. 
 
 " Aren't you a bit afraid to go through here, 
 Nell?" said one of the girls. 
 
 " Not a bit, I've been here a good many times. 
 I've been once alone," said brave Nell. 
 
 " But I'll venture you didn't come alone a second 
 time." 
 
 " I must confess it seemed rather uncanny." 
 
 They clambered over a few small rocks, and 
 there espied in the distance a ray of light. Another 
 turn in the rocky recess and behold a flood of
 
 THE PICNIC A T ECHO LAKE. 
 
 177 
 
 light ! They were on the border of the lake. 
 They had been walking under the huge boulder, 
 and the echo had come from over the lake. They 
 breathed a sigh of relief when all were again in 
 the sunshine and seated themselves for a few mo- 
 ments of rest, amusing themselves by throw- 
 ing stones into the lake and watching the rip- 
 ples. 
 
 " Do you see that hill-top over there," said 
 Nellie, pointing backward, for she faced the lake. 
 All turned to see a sugar-loaf mountain, the face 
 of which had been blasted and worn away till the 
 gray visage of the huge mountain seemed gar- 
 landed with the foliage which grew but a little 
 way down from the crest of the rock. 
 
 " We can't go over there/' 
 
 " It's too far." 
 
 " It must be five miles." 
 
 " Well, it is a good two miles from here to the 
 top of it, but that isn't much when one is used to 
 it. One doesn't mind footing it for five miles in 
 the country, you know." 
 
 " We shall have to charge somebody for boots 
 and shoes, I think," said one of them. 
 
 " Guess you'll have to, Kate, by the time you 
 get back from there ; for the summit of Lookout
 
 178 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Ledge is four hundred and fifty feet above the 
 level of the sea." 
 
 " But come on, I'm in for all there is to be seen 
 about here. Nellie has lived through it, and I 
 guess we can." 
 
 With jest and song they filled the moments, 
 and were at the foot of the mountain before they 
 were aware of it, and began the gradual ascent. 
 The path was rocky and perilously near the edge. 
 Upon reaching the ledge and looking down, the 
 river flowing at its base could be plainly followed 
 in its course to the Sound. A village lay at the 
 foot of the mountain. There stood the church, 
 and the mill with its pond and waterfall. In the 
 far distance beyond the rolling acres of grassy 
 meadows was the blue sail-dotted Sound. 
 
 " We can almost see the foam in the wake of 
 the ships." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Nellie as she swung herself down 
 on to a shelving ledge and sat there with her arm 
 about the trunk of a small cedar which grew out 
 from the face of the rock. What a position from 
 which to view such a panorama as spread before 
 her, east, west and south ; a picture bounded 
 only by the far horizon. " This is as near heaven 
 as any place on earth can be. It is sublime ! "
 
 THE PICNIC A T ECHO LAKE. i^g 
 
 and her face told that she was drinking at the 
 fountain of a deep and real pleasure. 
 
 Enjoy it, child ; before long you will be a child 
 no longer. Epochs are marked in other lives: 
 they are in yours. 
 
 " Look ! look ! " called Olga, from her post 
 some rods away. " Isn't that a gypsy camp over 
 there, where that smoke is rising ? Come on, 
 girls, and let us get our fortunes told. Won't it 
 be fun ! " And she led in the descent, which was 
 quickly accomplished. 
 
 " Oh, Nellie," said one of the more timid ones, 
 " can we ever find our way back ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Nellie. " I've been w'nortle- 
 berrying over this region too many times to get 
 lost." 
 
 " It must be delightful to live out in the 
 woods all through the summer time," chimed in 
 Olga. 
 
 " H'm," said one, " I've no faith in their incan- 
 tations and nonsense, and shall not waste my 
 money on them." As the bevy of girls ap- 
 proached the cluster of tents they exclaimed at 
 the beauty of the travelling habitations, and 
 went into ecstasies over a real gypsy-kettle 
 suspended above a blazing wood fire. Several
 
 180 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 women were seated about on the grass, while a 
 number of dusky little children played about 
 under the trees. Two young women, in gaudy 
 attire, arose and approached our girls. The dark 
 faces of the strangers, together with their gliding 
 noiseless motion, caused the girls to pause, uncer- 
 tain whether they wanted an interview with such 
 treacherous-looking beings. One was gorgeous 
 in pink ribbons, looped and bowed in her hair, 
 and on her large-brimmed hat ; while the other 
 was resplendent in red, even to her shoes. 
 
 " Have your fortunes told, ladies ? have your 
 fortunes told?" said one. 
 
 " No, I guess not," said Nellie. She began to 
 feel as though they were treading on forbidden 
 ground, in thus trying to look into the future. 
 
 " I will bring you luck, lady, just you cross my 
 palm with silver, and let me bring you luck. 
 You have never had your fortune told before by 
 a gypsy?" 
 
 " No," said Nellie. 
 
 " I am no common gypsy, lady ; I tell you 
 true. I am a seventh daughter, and I have great 
 power. I will bring you luck, lady ; just you 
 cross my palm with silver." 
 
 " No, no," said Nellie. She felt as though a
 
 THE PICNIC A T ECHO LAKE. 18 1 
 
 charm was being thrown over her, and she must 
 break away from it. 
 
 " Tell the others first and then I'll see." 
 
 " I will tell you a little, lady now listen, there 
 is something I must tell you for your good. 
 There is a gentleman who has been paying a lit- 
 tle attention to you, and I want to warn you 
 against him." 
 
 " Listen to the gypsy's warning," sang Olga, 
 who stood near and overheard the words. 
 
 " Tell hers first," and Nellie snatched her hand 
 away. 
 
 Olga stepped up. 
 
 " I'm ready. What have you good in store for 
 me? I don't want to hear any of the bad. That 
 comes fast enough without telegraphing ahead 
 about it." 
 
 " My lady with the angel face," and the gypsy 
 gave a low courtesy, and as Olga generously 
 crossed her palm, the gypsy began her strange 
 words. 
 
 " Ah, my lady, I can tell you many things you 
 would like to know, and more you wouldn't. 
 You will not always live this side the water. 
 I see a beautiful home far away. Poor little girl 
 without the mother-love ! All that heart can
 
 182 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 desire save that but it comes. That face which 
 I see 
 
 " What of it ? " said Olga with a start. 
 
 " You shall see it yet, my lady. There are 
 some rough places to come, but there will be 
 happiness at last." 
 
 With that she dropped a low courtesy and 
 turned to Nellie. 
 
 " Now, my lady, I will tell you that which is 
 true if you only cross my palm. I see you have 
 no faith, but I have just told your sister's." 
 
 " That is false, for I have no sister." 
 
 " What ! not that lady with the beautiful 
 face?" 
 
 " No, only sisters as girls at school often claim 
 to be." 
 
 " She paid me generously," continued the 
 gypsy, "and I will tell you just a little." She 
 held Nellie's hand firmly, and examined it with 
 the closest scrutiny. 
 
 " My lady, you cannot deceive me. Marie 
 knows the palms of gentlewomen too well. I tell 
 you, the same blood as that of the fair lady flows 
 in these veins, and the same kindly face bends 
 over you. She wins the dark-haired man ; but if 
 you are wise it will not break your heart. Much
 
 THE PICNIC AT ECHO LAKE. 183 
 
 more I could tell you, but you have no faith. 
 Hope on, for all things come to those who patient 
 stand and wait. When the day of triumph comes, 
 remember Marie." 
 
 The woman turned, and, with swift and silent 
 steps, disappeared among the trees. Nellie was 
 bewildered. What nonsense, had she been listen- 
 ing to? Was this the fulfilment of the morning's 
 presentiment ? It must be, but how strange that 
 the woman should choose both Olga and her ; 
 and then, the weird unlikely things of which she 
 had spoken. Nonsense ! That was all it was, 
 and she would try to think no more of it. But 
 one cannot throw off in a moment such thoughts 
 as were aroused by the gypsy's lore. It took 
 some time to get back to their first quarters, and 
 a merry hunt they had for the viands. Deacon 
 Argyle was on hand at four P. M. ; and the going 
 down of the sun found our girls back at Primrose 
 Bank, thoroughly tired out with their day's enjoy- 
 ment. How restful and uplifting it was to sit in 
 the deepening shadows, and listen to the insects 
 chirping in the dew-laden grass ; to breathe the 
 fragrant incense from nodding lily-bells. 
 
 The lowing of the cattle in the fields, and the 
 whistle of the farmer s boy coming back with his
 
 184 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 pail from the milking ; and the last few sweet 
 notes of a bird's evening song, all harmonizing 
 completely, even to the Katydids, carrying on 
 their everlasting and never to be solved problem 
 in the row of the maples in front of the house. 
 Deacon Argyle sat on the stoop in his old- 
 fashioned chair, watching the evening star go 
 down in a halo of softly radiant opalescence. It 
 was one of those nights one never forgets. Not 
 remembered simply by the happenings of the 
 day ; but, in the quiet holy stillness, it seemed 
 as if heaven came very near to earth, and one 
 felt the benediction. Hearts opened to embrace 
 the fulness of peace which seemed to pervade the 
 whole atmosphere. We should give thanks for 
 such moments. That night, in the quiet of her 
 white bed-chamber, Nellie knelt by the window 
 thinking deeply, and gazing out into the solemn 
 quietness lighted by the full rising moon. 
 
 What a cool and sweetly refreshing breeze 
 stirred the dark branches through which the moon- 
 beams shimmered, softening the denseness of the 
 shadows, and lifting hearts along their stairways 
 of light, up to that beautiful home beyend the 
 clouds. And a quiet stole over her spirit which 
 had been racked since the afternoon, a full and
 
 THE PICNIC A T ECHO LAKE. 185 
 
 overflowing restfulness, in answer to an uplifted 
 prayer that she might be forgiven for her foolish- 
 ness in listening to the gypsy's words ; and that 
 she might feel that forgiveness, by having those 
 words obliterated from her memory. ' Conscience 
 had whispered that it was unwise to listen ; but 
 the words were imprinted on her brain. That is 
 the penalty for sin. We may ask and receive 
 forgiveness for a sin committed, or for a foolish 
 act which has been done ; we may feel the as 
 surance of forgiveness, but the trace of the sin is. 
 indelibly printed on our own inner sight, and the 
 quiver comes around the heart-strings whenever 
 we think of the foolish act. And yet, Nellie went 
 to her bed forgiven for her weakness, while poor 
 passion-tossed Olga, was wondering and racking 
 her tired brain over the things which she im- 
 agined had been, or might yet be in store for her. 
 Poor little girl ! Why did she not cast her burden 
 on the great Burden Bearer ?
 
 i86 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARMADALE. 
 
 " Then you came with oath and ring, 
 
 Wooing me as lovers woo ; 
 And the gladness of the spring, 
 And the sunshine came with you." 
 
 I STY yellow butterflies dipped and 
 skimmed over the closely shorn mead- 
 . ows ; the hay-crops had been har- 
 vested, and the crickets and winged 
 grasshoppers buzzed and whirred over the 
 drying stubble. Over two years had gone by, 
 bringing their varied changes. Many white- 
 winged messages had flown back and forth over 
 the ocean between Olga and Nellie. On this 
 beautiful day in early September, when it seemed 
 as though all the beauties of summer were combin- 
 ing, we find Nellie just a little uneasy in mind. 
 She was sitting down by the waterside, where 
 Tumbling Foam brook fell in misty spray over 
 slippery gray stones and tufts of long grass which
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARMADALE. 187 
 
 grew in the crevices. It was not the plain little 
 face which had been pressed against the pane 
 that Thanksgiving-day several years before. The 
 bloom and grace of womanhood were upon her ; 
 the gray eyes wore a softened expression, as she 
 gazed abstractedly away into the distances among 
 the forest trees, until sight of all present was 
 lost, and she saw scenes which fancy pictured to 
 her inner view. The beautiful tones of the dis- 
 tances, the ambers and greens, and shadows 
 formed no part of her vista, simply serving as a 
 fitting background for the subject study which 
 an artist would have been eager to transfer to 
 canvass. 
 
 A crackling of branches overhead., brought her 
 back to the present, and instantly a rosy flush 
 x overspread her features, then receding, left her 
 quite pale. The waves of dark hair gracefully 
 outlined the white temples, the lips trembled 
 slightly, but ceased to do so as she set them 
 tightly and folded her hands as though the move- 
 ment were born of a resolve. There was no cause 
 for alarm, it was only a gray squirrel which came 
 chattering down to the rail fence which crossed 
 the brook farther down, where the stream had 
 in a measure gained control of itself, and was
 
 188 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 taking its way in a little more quiet and orderly 
 fashion. 
 
 Within sight of her resting-place towered the 
 stately forms of the Seven Giants, a beautiful 
 clump of oak trees whose branches spread far and 
 wide. The seat near their base was a favorite 
 haunt of Leon Thorpe ; and he frequently came 
 there to study. In fact it was there that Nellie 
 most often found him, when she had a letter from 
 Olga to read to him. Though distance made his 
 heart grow fonder, it did not seem to have the same 
 effect upon Olga, for she never wrote to Leon. 
 His was not a passing passion to be lightly tossed 
 aside, for he loved the airy creature with all the 
 fulness of his nature, and though the sea divided 
 them, her face was enshrined in his memory. 
 She wrote often of their journeyings from one 
 place of note to another, and as long as they did 
 not settle in any particular place, his courage kept 
 up, and hope held sway. 
 
 But it was not to see Leon, nor to read him a 
 letter, that Nellie had found her way to the brook 
 on this particular day. At Madame Catlin's 
 Seminary receptions were occasionally held, and 
 the most eligible of the college men invited. 
 Clyde Delamere had been among them, and at the
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARMADALE. 189 
 
 last one, while in Nellie's company, had allowed 
 her to examine a quaint signet ring which he 
 wore. As he left that evening, he had slipped it 
 on her finger with the remark, " Wear it till you 
 see me again, Au revoir ! " and was gone. Her 
 heart had stood still for a moment. Was it the 
 magnetism of his touch, or was there some charm 
 about the ring which sent a faintness through her 
 whole being ? Neither. It was simply a tele- 
 graphic message from her wide-awake conscience, 
 that she was now liable to commit what ap- 
 proached nearer to a sin than she had ever been 
 guilty. of before in all her child life. What would 
 mother and father say ? 
 
 They had heard her speak of Clyde Delamere, 
 they knew he was a Yale student, and that, as a 
 class, they were to be avoided. Mothers looked 
 grave when their daughters fell into the company 
 of students, for many with broken hearts and 
 ruined lives, had lived on in the old Elm City as 
 class after class of Yale men finished their college 
 course and left the place. But as to this quaint 
 ring, she hardly knew what to do about it, heart- 
 ily wishing he had it safely back in his possession ; 
 and yet, she would like to see him just once more, 
 why, she hardly knew. He had said that some
 
 1 90 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 day she might find him fishing at Tumbling 
 Foam ; but she had looked for his coming day 
 after day, and he came not. She had said nothing 
 about it at home, and she really would like to get 
 out of the scrape without their knowing anything 
 about it ; for to her there seemed something 
 almost compromising about a girl's having in her 
 possession a ring belonging to a young man with 
 whom she had so slight an acquaintance. She 
 was about to return to the house when a branch 
 again crackled, and this time she saw a manly 
 form passing in and out between the forest trees. 
 In a moment Clyde Delamere had swung himself 
 lightly across the- brook, and was clasping her 
 hand in a glad welcome, his flushed face watch- 
 ing hers closely, to learn whether or not she was 
 glad to see him. 
 
 "Why, Miss Argyle, this is an unexpected, 
 though hoped-for pleasure. Are you as glad to see 
 me as I am to meet you ? " 
 
 " I am glad to get rid of this dragon. It has 
 been a terrible trouble to me, I wondering how 
 you would get it back again ; for I dare not 
 trust it to the mails," and she handed him the 
 curious ring. 
 
 " Pray be seated, Miss Argyle, I am sorry to
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARM AD ALE. 191 
 
 learn that the ring has been a care to you. Do 
 not run away, please, stay a few moments. It is 
 quite a walk over here from the Junction." 
 
 " I fear you took the most roundabout way if 
 you came by the turnpike. You should have 
 taken that old road f o the left, when you reached 
 the sign board. If I had known you wanted to 
 come, I could have told you the nearest way." 
 
 " But I dare not tell you that I was coming 
 surely, for fear you would forbid me." 
 
 And her heart came up in her throat again, and 
 seemed to lie there fluttering. 
 
 " I have guarded your ring very carefully, for I 
 thought, by the crest, it might be an heirloom." 
 
 " So it is, did I never tell you about it? Sit 
 down, you are standing too long. If you must 
 go, wait till I tell you a story. That ring belonged 
 to my father. He was the youngest son of a 
 Scotch baron. My uncle now owns the estate. 
 He is a grizzly old bachelor, and I assure you I 
 shall not imitate him if I can prevail upon some 
 little dark-eyed beauty to share my lot with me." 
 
 Why did her cheeks burn again so hotly that 
 he must observe them? Could his speech have 
 any reference to her ? She put aside the thought, 
 but the pure little heart fluttered on.
 
 192 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Yes," he repeated, as he placed the ring on 
 his finger and unwound the line from the reel, 
 " I hope some day a certain sweet-faced little 
 friend of mine will take pity on an old bachelor 
 and marry me." 
 
 " No doubt you will gain her consent when you 
 ask her," Nellie innocently replied. 
 
 " Do you mean it ? " He spoke in a low thrill- 
 ing tone that frightened her. She started up, say- 
 ing, " I must go, mother will miss me, I have been 
 gone so long." 
 
 She felt that she must run away, but chance or 
 fate was helping him out. As she arose to go the 
 hook on the line caught in the flounce of her airy 
 muslin dress. 
 
 " There, little one, I have caught you ; so 
 you see you are not to run away from me. 
 Be seated a moment while I disengage the 
 hook." 
 
 " No, thank you, I can get it out ; " and she 
 did ; for she would not accept of his assistance. 
 Whether the move had been made purposely or 
 not, she could not tell ; but the fact of the case 
 was that she was still sitting there not two feet 
 av,-ay from him, she a budding innocent girl, he 
 a winner of women's hearts. He endeavored
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARMADALE. 193 
 
 to continue the conversation in a less ardent 
 manner, thinking he would try and not frighten 
 her away again. 
 
 " Yes, I am of Scotch descent, and you are, 
 too, I judge, by your name ; as the Argyles 
 come from away back in the Scotch ages. You 
 look more like the French, I think, though." 
 
 " Mother's name was Ellen Douglas and 
 father's of course was Argyle," answered Nellie 
 Honestly. 
 
 " I have here in my pocket a match-box made 
 of agate from the hills on my uncle's estate ; " 
 and he thrust his hand into his vest-pocket. 
 With an exclamation of pain, he hastily with- 
 drew it ; and there imbedded in the thick of his 
 thumb was another fishhook. 
 
 " You see your turn has come now. I wonder 
 if you are not sorry you didn't let me go 
 sooner? " 
 
 " No, indeed, Miss Argyle ; I assure you a few 
 moments of your society is well worth this slight 
 pain." 
 
 " But it is too bad, and I am very sorry. You 
 
 must come home with me at once, for mother 
 
 can remove the hook, I am sure. She has a case 
 
 of surgical instruments, and many an ugly sliver 
 
 13
 
 I 9 4 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 has she extracted. Why, she's almost as good as 
 Dr. Strong for such wounds." 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to go to him," said Clyde, 
 although he was glad of half a chance to visit 
 Nellie's home. 
 
 " Certainly not," she replied. " It is too far in 
 the first place, and mother can do it just as 
 well ; " she wouldn't have him go over to Dr. 
 Strong's for anything. 
 
 They hurried up through the meadows, not 
 pausing to observe the beautiful views which 
 nature had in store at every turn ; for the wound 
 was growing quite painful. Mrs. Argyle was in 
 the sitting-room as Nellie rushed in at the back 
 door, through the well-room and kitchen, calling, 
 " Oh, mother, do come quick ! " 
 
 " What is it, child ? " and she rose to meet her, 
 a look of surprise passing over her features as she 
 saw a strange young man behind Nellie. 
 
 " This is Mr. Delamere, mother, whom I have 
 often met at Madame Catlin's. He has been 
 fishing in our brook and unfortunately has stuck 
 a fishhook in his hand. He thought it best to 
 go to the doctor, but I knew you could get it out 
 if you tried." 
 
 She had said it all in a breath, and in spite of
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARM AD ALE, 195 
 
 the pain, Clyde was smiling at the odd introduc- 
 tion. Mrs. Argyle lost no time in preparing for 
 the operation. Nellie stood by sympathetically 
 feeling every thrust of the keen-pointed little 
 lance, but the hook was at length removed, and 
 the hand bandaged. Then the trio sat and 
 chatted. After a time the deacon put in an ap- 
 pearance. Nellie was quite pleased to think 
 things had taken such a conscience-easing turn 
 for her, and, in his way, Clyde Delamere was 
 equally well pleased. Of course he returned to 
 the city with an invitation to call again, and he 
 took advantage of the hospitality at Primrose 
 Bank. Noble Ralph Strong fell into the back- 
 ground. Though always an admirer of Nellie, he 
 had never known how much he was afraid of los- 
 ing her, until he saw her so frequently in' com- 
 panionship with Clyde. And he was a wooer 
 after her own heart ; so she deceived herself ; 
 just such a knight as she had expected might 
 come some day ; for girls do expect such things 
 to come to pass. He sent her the most exquisite 
 flowers, and they drove in the sunshine, and 
 walked in the moonlight, and went boating in the 
 twilight, all through those beautiful days. It 
 seemed that summer was prolonged to allow
 
 196 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 of more time for their wooing. When winter 
 came, with its round of gayeties, Nellie's head 
 was quite turned. 
 
 The deacon was doing considerable thinking 
 about this time ; and Mrs. Argyle's heart almost 
 misgave her, for she had an inkling of Ralph's 
 regard for Nellie ; yet she thought best to let 
 things go their own way. The deacon began to 
 be a little uneasy, and more than once he said to 
 his wife : " If I thought that fellow was only 
 making love to our girl for the sport of it, I'd 
 soon settle his hash for him." But they finally 
 decided to let things run their course, at the 
 same time keeping careful watch, and then there 
 would be no blame at any one's door; but if they 
 had thought it possible that Clyde Delamere was 
 trifling with Nellie, there would have been a 
 tornado in the Argyle household. 
 
 The spring had come and gone, with its balmy 
 air and bursting buds and beauty all about. One 
 early August evening Clyde put in his appear- 
 ance. It was such a beautiful night, would Nel- 
 lie be allowed to go for a row on the pond ? The 
 moon shone as bright as day, and all nature was 
 in a wooing mood. Arm 'in arm they sauntered 
 toward the pond. Once out upon the yielding
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARMADALE. 197 
 
 waters all was forgotten save that they were alone 
 together on a faultless night under a bewitchingly 
 moonlit sky. Out into the middle of the pond 
 floated the boat, the oars resting in their locks, 
 while Nellie and Clyde lived through the hour 
 that comes but once in a maiden's life; the hour 
 of her first proposal. He had said as they rowed 
 out over the gleaming waves, " I have a little 
 news to tell you, darling, I wonder if you will 
 care." 
 
 " What is it, Clyde ? " and it seemed as though 
 a hand grasped her heart-strings, so she could 
 hardly breathe. 
 
 " I have a summons to cross the water on the 
 next steamer ; would you care if I went, little 
 one?" 
 
 She dropped her head in her hands- and 
 answered never a word. Then it was that he 
 rested the oars, and moved to her side. 
 
 " Then you would care, just a little?" 
 
 His voice was deep and low, strangely thrilling, 
 while his hot breath against her cheek caused a 
 burning pain at her heart. 
 
 " You must not go," she whispered ; as he held 
 her closely to his side, while her curly head lay 
 for a moment against his strong arm.
 
 198 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 "You do, then, really care?" The hot tears 
 were dropping on the hand with which he tried 
 to raise the tear-dimmed eyes to meet his love- 
 lighted gaze. " Listen to me, little one, do not 
 sob so, you make my heart ache. I must go, but 
 I will come back again ; for there is only one 
 girl in the universe who will receive the first in- 
 vitation to my wedding, and that girl is Nellie 
 Argyle. Will you accept my invitation, little 
 one, seal it with a kiss ; " and she raised her lips 
 to meet his. The night was bewitching, and the 
 moments rolled on. Then, when they came back 
 to earth again, Clyde reluctantly picked up the 
 oars and took our Nellie home. There were 
 promises to write, promises of fidelity, in fact all 
 the promises that young lovers always make ; but 
 in spite of the many heart-aches three weeks 
 found Clyde across the Atlantic, and Nellie Argyle 
 at Primrose Bank. 
 
 Clyde's departure and subsequent coolness had 
 opened her eyes. A strange sensation, half dread 
 and half happiness, had gained possession of her, 
 and she could not analyze it ; only, as time wore 
 on, she realized it was not love which had filled 
 her heart in response to Clyde's enthusiastic 
 wooing, but rather more like a responsive mag-
 
 THE DRAGON OF ARMADALE. 199 
 
 netism in answer to that which he had exerted 
 over her. With the reaction came the knowledge 
 that she could live without him ; in truth she 
 felt more free of heart than ever, now that the 
 ocean was between them ; but she, innocent of 
 the wiles of professional lovers, was so afraid she 
 had done wrong, that she worried herself sick 
 over it. In a few weeks the reaction came, and 
 Nellie tossed on a bed of pain, her poor little 
 body racked by fever. Old Doctor Strong was 
 away with his wife, but Doctor Ralph was at 
 home. What a sad heart he bore to and from 
 the house where his idol lay with her life at the 
 lowest ebb, and he must fight to win her back to 
 life only to be snatched from him by that other. 
 But his love for her was strong. He fought for 
 her life with the fierceness of despair. He filled 
 her lungs with air from his own sturdy ones, and 
 sent his own strong life-blood coursing through 
 her pulseless veins. 
 
 Over and over again he called all his medical 
 skill to aid him in bringing back the quivering 
 heart-beats that at times ceased to be discernible. 
 Night and day he was by her side, calling on all 
 the powers of heaven to use him as the means of 
 saving that dear life, though destined never to be
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 his own ; yet far dearer to him than the life of 
 Ralph Strong. Over and over again, in imagina- 
 tion, had he closed the dark gray eyes, and gazed 
 upon the perfectly chiselled features, feeling that 
 the weary brain had never known of the deep 
 pure love which had lived for her within his 
 breast. He had even gone so far as to see in 
 imagination the casket-lid fastened down, and 
 the last sad rites performed ; and had felt that 
 his life's light had gone out ; that the love of his 
 life was buried. But Heaven was more kind than 
 he had faith to believe. She lived. And how 
 resolutely he set about building up the frail little 
 body. 
 
 It seemed almost as though he were saving her 
 for himself. She had been so near to the bound- 
 ary, that that other might almost have lost a 
 claim. A happier man never lived than Ralph 
 Strong when Nellie was able to ride out with him 
 for only a little way. Many things were possible. 
 Clyde Delamere was across the Atlantic Ocean, 
 and Nellie and he were here ; but, and then 
 came the dashing of rising hope, when the thought 
 came that perhaps, after all, Clyde might ever be 
 first in her affections.
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT'S VIGIL. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT'S VIGIL. 
 
 " Stand up against the rising sun : 
 
 Your shadow on the grass 
 Shall trace the limit of my world, 
 Beyond, I shall not pass." 
 
 HE months were beginning to count 
 up since Clyde Delamere had said 
 good-bye to Nellie. Nearly a year had 
 gone and the roses were again tinting 
 her cheeks, so Father Argyle had said on the 
 morning of this day when she had been whortle- 
 berrying. And now she was kneeling by the open 
 window gazing out into the cool summer night, 
 and watching the sparkling points of light over 
 in the hollow where the village lay. The shower 
 had cleared away all the haze in the atmosphere, 
 and the honeysuckle around the window was all 
 the more fragrant for its burden of raindrops, 
 and the tall white August lilies sent forth an in- 
 toxicating fragrance. How the stars gleamed
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 and twinkled, while each steadily shining planet 
 majestically sped on its course ! How weirdly 
 the shadows of the trees fell against every light- 
 colored object, casting uncanny moving images 
 clearly in the foreground, dimly in the distance ! 
 Above the noise of the summer insects, sounding 
 their nightly chant, came the steady roar of Tum- 
 bling Foam dam. She felt it was good to be 
 there, under that mantle of solemn quiet thrown 
 over a sleeping world. 
 
 She singled out the light which she knew 
 shone from Ralph Strong's study window. He 
 was there now, busy with his ponderous vol- 
 umes. Some day he would leave the little village 
 in all probability and make a home for himself 
 somewhere, where he could work up a large prac- 
 tice. And a little pain of dread tugged for a 
 moment at her heart-strings. Why was that, 
 I wonder? She was engaged to Clyde Delamere, 
 but Clyde had been gone for months, and she 
 had scarcely heard from him. Why was it that 
 Ralph Strong always came up before her mind's 
 eye in comparison with Clyde Delamere ? Ralph 
 with his broad shoulders and frank open face, 
 yet full of tenderness and a something back of 
 his courteousness which she had never yet quite
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT'S VIGIL. 
 
 203 
 
 been able to discover. She liked Ralph Strong. 
 She was afraid she liked him . better than Clyde, 
 who was fascinating while he was in one's com- 
 pany, like those vari-colored blinking stars up 
 there in the blackness of incomprehensible space, 
 but Ralph was like the planets in their intensely 
 quiet, steady gleaming. 
 
 She sighed as she analyzed the traitor thoughts 
 in her mind; she had not spoken them aloud, 
 but was almost afraid she had. Did girls ever 
 have such misgivings after they had been engaged 
 for awhile? Of course the engagement was just 
 between themselves, and wouldn't it be strange 
 if nothing came of it ? Such things had happened. 
 A little cry, half hope, half joy, started up from 
 her heart, but she hushed it back for fear it was 
 wrong. 
 
 When Clyde was there she thought she loved 
 him she put the " thought " in now then she 
 would not have harbored the word in connection 
 with the others. Had he not held her close to 
 himself, and, pressing her curly head down upon 
 his breast, bent his own face so close to hers 
 that his moustache swept her hot cheek, and then 
 how he had begged for one parting kiss, meas- 
 uring his happiness by the wealth of the world
 
 204 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 if she would only grant him that boon. And 
 then she had disengaged herself from his close 
 embrace, and, standing alone, with her dark eyes 
 looking soberly up into his, had quietly said, 
 " Clyde Delamere, I shall never kiss but one 
 man excepting my father, and that one \vi\l be 
 my husband. I believe that a woman's kisses 
 should be kept sacredly for the one whom God's 
 word makes a part of her life until death shall 
 part them. You must wait patiently until the 
 right to claim them is yours." 
 
 He had taken off his hat involuntarily while 
 she was speaking, she was so like an angel in her 
 simple purity of thought. She was far too good 
 for a union with such a man, and he knew it, too ; 
 but do we not all covet that which we know to 
 be best, whatever our needs may be. That night, 
 as Clyde Delamere left her, the last night he saw 
 her, he thought how fortunate he was in the pos- 
 session of such a treasure, true as steel, pure as 
 a dove, bright and winsome what a gem of a 
 wife she would be. He could wait patiently for 
 the wifely kiss, dear little sweetheart. 
 
 And now she was harboring thoughts of Ralph. 
 She knew she should never have thought of such 
 a thing had he not taken her under his protect-
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT'S VIGIL. 
 
 205 
 
 ing wing that day during the thunder-storm. 
 How it had poured, and how his courage had 
 sustained her as they sped along the mountain 
 path, dark as the overhanging trees and black 
 clouds could make it, illuminated almost every 
 moment by the lurid flashes of the lightning. 
 His courage had wonderfully sustained her, and 
 she could not help but admire him as he im- 
 parted his cool-headedness to the foaming animal 
 dashing along at a terrific speed. How sublimely 
 the thunder rattled among the mountain ledges, 
 and how awe-inspiring were the sheets of light- 
 ning which one instant lighted up the mountain 
 path like noon-day, and then left them in inky 
 darkness ! 
 
 Ralph had driven straight home with her before 
 the fury of the storm had abated and . set her 
 down on the front door-sill as dry as though the 
 elements had not been indulging in a terrific out- 
 burst. She had thanked him, but had not asked 
 him in ; such is the perversity of woman's nature. 
 The very thing she wanted most to do, she did 
 not do. Why ? Because, a woman's reason 
 unfinished, and unfathomable mental reservation 
 often lies within a because. 
 
 Then she began at the beginning and went all
 
 206 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 over it again. She had been berrying out in the 
 great whortleberry pasture, where the bushes 
 grew thickly together and were well-laden with 
 the shining black fruit. She had kept on pick- 
 ing while the sun shone brightly, and again more 
 dimly as the white foam-like thunder-heads crept 
 slowly up from behind the Hanging Hills. It 
 was more comfortable picking in the shadow of 
 the clouds. What a quiet stillness settled all 
 about her ! The birds hushed their carols, and a 
 solitary tree-toad in the great chestnut tree which 
 stood alone in the wide berry-pasture, croaked 
 his never failing prophecy. The clouds overhead 
 grew darker while low rumblings and slight flash 
 reflections came up from the northwest. Nellie 
 was picking rapidly now, 'her pail almost full. A 
 great drop struck upon her hand, then another 
 and another the shower was coming there was 
 no shelter but the tree. Common sense told her 
 that a drenching was preferable to taking shelter 
 under a tree, so she picked up her pail, and started 
 for the road. But another shelter was at hand. 
 
 As she reached the highway she saw a cloud of 
 dust in the distance, and out from it came a horse 
 and carriage with one occupant. If it were only 
 some one whom she knew, was her hope. It
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT'S VIGIL. 207 
 
 surely was Dr. Ralph. " Miss Argyle, allow me ; " 
 and before she knew it Nellie and her berries were 
 in the carriage headed for home. She was safely 
 under cover when the fury of the storm burst upon 
 them. 
 
 " How fortunate," said Ralph. " You would 
 have been drenched." 
 
 " I am very glad you happened along." 
 " So am I," he answered quietly. He did not 
 tell her that more than an hour before, on his way 
 to see a patient, he had seen the pink sunbonnet 
 at the far end of the lot, and was pretty sure the 
 owner was Nellie Argyle. He had noticed the 
 shower approaching, and had hurried back hoping 
 to overtake her, with what result we have seen. 
 
 " Oh, isn't it dreadful, Doctor," as a blinding 
 flash and deafening crash came at the same in- 
 stant. 
 
 " It is sublime ! " 
 " Are you never afraid ? " 
 " Never afraid, yet often overawed." 
 "It frightens me dreadfully lately, though I 
 used to enjoy thunderstorms so well. I would sit 
 at the window and watch the lightning." 
 
 Flash then a deafening roar it had struck a 
 barn not twenty rods away. Nellie blanched with
 
 2o3 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 fear. Up on his haunches reared the now 
 thoroughly affrighted horse. 
 
 " Steady, boy, steady," came Ralph's firm, quiet 
 tones. It might have been a flash of summer 
 heat-lightning for all he appeared to notice it, 
 but Nellie was nearly paralyzed with fright. How 
 gently he had soothed her fears, how tenderly he 
 had placed his hand on hers, clasped in agony ! 
 " Are you faint, Nellie ? " the old school-boy way 
 of speaking, and she had not resented it. 
 
 " Just a little," came the answer from under 
 the pink sunbonnet. 
 
 " We shall soon be at home, and I am glad, for 
 still another shower is coming." 
 
 In three minutes more she was at home with 
 her berries in the kitchen, and Doctor Ralph was 
 giving thanks for the thunderstorm, and blessing 
 his lucky stars. The light went out in Ralph's 
 study window before Nellie arose from her knees, 
 and I think the recording angel was satisfied with 
 the turn affairs were taking.
 
 AN EPISODE A T ROSE CLIFF. 
 
 209 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AN EPISODE AT ROSE CLIFF. 
 
 Life is too short for any bitter feeling; 
 
 Time is the best avenger, if we wait; 
 The years speed by, and on their wings bring healing; 
 
 We have no room for anything like hate." 
 
 OR the land sakes, Jared Cooper, if 
 you don't beat the Dutch ! " 
 
 " What's up now, Hester," drawled 
 Jared from the depths of the weekly 
 paper which had just arrived. 
 
 " Up ! Considerable I should say ! It's only by 
 the unlikeliest miracle that I ever discovered it." 
 " Wall, ain't you a talking pretty loud, Hester, or 
 what on airth air you a blowin' about, anyway ? " 
 said Jared, as his chair came forward with a thump, 
 and stood on its four legs, as was originally in- 
 tended it should do. 
 
 " I'm a blowin' about my sister Eunice, if you 
 wanter know." 
 
 " I hain't done nothin' to your sister Eunice, 
 not as I know on." 
 14
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Yes, you hev too ; you've been all the cause of 
 the silence there's been between us for ever so 
 many years." 
 
 " How in all time do you make that out, I'd 
 like to know ?" 
 
 " Well, I'll tell yer, lively ! I was just a wantin' 
 a piece of tissue paper to trace a pattern outen a 
 magazine with, and just came back here to hunt 
 for a piece and found it. Then I turned round 
 ter get down and spied a little piece of paper 
 sticken out from the bottom edge of that drawer 
 there, and so I pulled it out ; and lo ! and behold, 
 it's my letter I wrote to Eunice Stiles sixteen 
 years ago or more." 
 
 " Wall, that dus beat the bugs," drawled 
 Jared. 
 
 The indignant woman was poised on the wood- 
 bottomed chair, one hand resting on her hip and 
 the other holding at arm's length a dusty yellow 
 envelope. 
 
 " Look at it and see for yourself," ejaculated the 
 irate Hester. " If you don't 'tend to other folks' 
 mail matter no better than you 'tend to mine, it's 
 a wonder to all goodness they don't take the post- 
 office away from you ; " and she bounced off 
 the chair, and up the stairs, nor stopped until
 
 AN EPISODE A T ROSE CLIFF. 
 
 she was ready to begin a letter to her sister 
 Eunice. 
 
 " She allus was kinder touchy that way," Mrs. 
 Cooper said to herself ; " and to think how as I 
 had been a laying it up to her door all these years 
 alongback. She might be dead and buried by 
 this time, but I'll write anyhow." 
 
 Sputter sizz splash sizz went the tea- 
 kettle boiling over. Hester hastened to set it 
 aside. 
 
 " Land sakes, its five o'clock and no tea a 
 goin' yit ! " So the teapot was brought out, the 
 pattern was thought of and traced, and the letter 
 was not written. If there is anything in the 
 magnetism of thought, perhaps this was the reason 
 why in a distant city at that moment Eunice 
 Stiles sat by her south kitchen window looking 
 out into space, seeing nothing of the landscape, 
 her mind wholly intent on the sister who lived 
 over and beyond the blue line of hills. There 
 was no one now but Reginald and Mrs. Dean, and 
 Aunt Eunice, in the house on Myrtle Avenue ; 
 and the latter was revolving a scheme in her mind. 
 After tea, when the lamps were lighted, and the 
 invalid had been carefully attended to. Mr. Dean 
 and Aunt Eunice sat before the open gratj.
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Reginald, has it ever occurred to you that a 
 change would do Ethel good ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have thought so often of late. Can 
 you suggest anything?" 
 
 "Can you come to no conclusion?" 
 
 "None!" 
 
 " I have been thinking that I am getting along 
 in years, and a little while near the old home 
 might take away this loneliness that creeps over 
 me so often lately." 
 
 " What is your plan ? " 
 
 " Could we go for the summer, at least, to 
 Westbridge ? " 
 
 " Certainly, and the change may do Ethel good, 
 too. I will take a run up to Dr. Strong's, and see 
 what I can do to find a comfortable place for 
 you." 
 
 As a result of the foregoing conversation, a 
 pleasant roomy cottage between Fairbury and 
 Westbridge was made ready for occupancy, and 
 another month found Mr. and Mrs. Dean and 
 Eunice Stiles settling down for a quiet summer 
 at Rose Cliff. The same tangle of vines grew 
 about the door as grew there years ago, when 
 Mrs. Sharon and Katie had spent many weary 
 weeks there ; but under the careful management
 
 AN EPISODE A T ROSE CLIFF. 213 
 
 of Matt, Dr. Strong's indispensable man, the 
 grounds about had been made to present a very 
 home-like appearance ; but on account of a spe- 
 cial request from Aunt Eunice, the tangle of wild 
 roses growing about the edge and down the face 
 of the rock, which had suggested the name of 
 the place, was left unmolested, and grew on in 
 its own wild fashion, making a far more pretty 
 adornment than could a master gardener's hand. 
 Sister Hester had been over and had done with 
 a sturdy good will all that she could to make 
 amends for the long silence caused by Jared's 
 carelessness.' 
 
 " Just think, it's as long ago as as why as 
 when Mis' Argyle adopted Nellie. I mentioned 
 it in that letter you never got and that was four- 
 teen years ago and more." 
 
 " They have been very quiet years very little 
 in them to cause remembrance of days or dates 
 to be stored away." 
 
 " Well, now you're here for the summer, you 
 must git acquainted with Mis' Argyle and Nellie. 
 They're as nice folks as any hereabouts, exceptin' 
 the doctor and his wife. But Mis' Argyle is real 
 homey and you'll allus feel as if you wisht she'd 
 a-stayed a spell longer. But fer pity's sake,
 
 2 1 4 STORAf-S WEPT. 
 
 Eunice, if yer see that Sabra Allen a-comin', bar 
 the door fer she's worse than the itch ! 
 
 " Why so ? " 
 
 " Well, all I say is, if you don't want your busi- 
 ness peddled from Dan to Beersheba, don't men- 
 tion it to her." 
 
 " Don't worry on that score, Hester. I've kept 
 my own council too many years to be carried by 
 storm." 
 
 " She's dretful palaverin' and honey-mouthed, 
 but she will draw you out, and you can't help 
 yourself unless you're uncommon sharp ; and then 
 she'll outwit you or comer you, and you'll have 
 to tell her the truth, or else an out-an'-out lie." 
 
 " Well, wait till she comes, Hester, and I'll 
 warrant you I'll make out." 
 
 " H'm ! well, she's a comin' now; I felt it in 
 my bones, I allus do when that iron-weed's around. 
 Fer land's sake, don't mention Argyles', fer she's 
 allus ready ter haul 'em ter town and back again." 
 
 There came a quick rap at the door, and a turn- 
 ing of the handle as though the new comer was 
 used to "dropping in." But Aunt Eunice was 
 there to admit the visitor. She met her with a 
 reserved air, which caused Mrs. Allen to mentally 
 ejaculate, " Stuck up ! " but her face was all
 
 AN EPISODE AT ROSE CLIFF. 215 
 
 eagerness. She had come a-hunting. Hester 
 Cooper turned from the window which she was 
 polishing, till it shone like a mirror. " Good- 
 mornin', Mis' Allen, you're out early makin' 
 calls it seems. My sister, Miss Stiles, Mis' 
 Allen ; " and she turned back to give the window 
 an extra touch. She was irritated because this 
 woman had forced herself upon them in this man- 
 ner, but it was " her way," and she long ago 
 came to the conclusion that she had a perfect 
 right to do so, considering herself a privileged 
 personage. Saints preserve us from such ; for 
 they crop out the world over, these dogs that go 
 about forever carrying and fetching bones. She 
 had a fresh morsel this morning. 
 
 " Glad you've come to sojourn amongst us, 
 Miss Stiles. Hope you'll like it here most every 
 one does. There's another new-comer in town, 
 too, I hear." 
 
 " Who ? " inquired Hester, herself caught by 
 the bait. 
 
 " Why, a young woman up to Argyle's." Some- 
 body that used to work in the school where Nellie 
 went. She's lost her mother lately and Nellie's 
 took her home. They'll need to start a foundlin' 
 asylum next I guess " this last added with a
 
 216 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 queer twist of the mouth and squint of the eyes, 
 peculiar to this peculiar woman. Aunt Eunice 
 said nothing, and Hester did likewise. She wasn't 
 going to get caught in any more traps. 
 
 "Yes," Sabra finally continued, " they do say 
 this girl thinks a sight of Nellie." 
 
 " How is your family, Mrs. Allen?" ventured 
 Aunt Eunice, to change the subject. 
 
 " Oh, middlin', Geoffrey, he's drove to death 
 with hayin' and all, and the garden weeds is 
 showin' up pretty well." 
 
 " Do you help him care for his garden ? " 
 
 " Mercy, no ! I hain't got time. Takes me all 
 my time to tend to my own affairs." 
 
 " Good laws ! " groaned Hester. 
 
 " What's the matter, Mis' Cooper ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothin', only this winder sticks with the 
 new paint." 
 
 " Wall, it dus look like another place sence you 
 people put a hand to it. I allus said it ud be 
 pretty if 'twas fixed up, and so it is. Ain't no- 
 body else to hum ? I don't hear nobody stirrin'. 
 Didn't know but I could drop in a few minutes 
 and make a change for the invalid. I hear you're 
 takin' care of one, Miss Stiles." 
 
 " Mrs. Dean does not enjoy the best of health,
 
 AN EPISODE A T ROSE CLIFF. 
 
 217 
 
 that is true, but she is not at home this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " Oh," and how disappointed she was, for she 
 meant to carry a full description to Mrs. Pritchard 
 that afternoon. " Has she gone out ridin' ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; calling, I believe." 
 
 " Oh ! " disappointed again. She would have 
 to try once more later on. 
 
 " Are you acquainted with Nellie Argyle, Miss 
 Stiles ? " 
 
 " No, not yet ; " said Aunt Eunice. 
 
 " She's a good-looking little maid, but too airy 
 and touchy for anything. She's got awful high 
 notions, if she ain't only adopted, and might have 
 blue blood in her veins by her actions, though 
 where she was got nobody knows." 
 
 " Indeed," said one of her listeners. The other 
 was ready to burst. She was filling up so inside, 
 that she thought she could not hold in another 
 moment. The next volley struck the magazine. 
 
 " Yes, there wa'n't no one in the village good 
 enough for her, so she had to get some good- 
 looking chap from the college, and now he's gone 
 to parts unknown, and she's tryin' to rope in the 
 Doctor's son ; though I have seen her takin' 
 walks with Leon Thorpe, and little Geoff see her
 
 2 1 8 ^ TOKM-S WEPT. 
 
 one Sunday a sittin' up in the Seven Giants with 
 him, both a readin' a letter. It was from furrin 
 parts, I know, cause little Geoff he crept near 
 enough to listen : but land, the young'n couldn't 
 tell nothin' 'bout big words and names of things 
 that was in the letter. She was most a cryin' 
 though, and he awful sober like ; so something's 
 to pay, Lord knows what." 
 
 The explosion came. Hester's face grew a 
 purple tinge, then the blood receded, leaving her 
 as white as her tanned skin would allow. She 
 stopped with the polishing chamois in one 
 hand, the other raised as though warding off a 
 blow. 
 
 " Sabra Allen, you've said enough. How the 
 Lord .ever lets you live to say such mean contem- 
 ptible things about that dear child, I don't know. 
 If I was in His place, I wouldn't have you black- 
 enin' the face of the earth any longer. She try- 
 in' to rope in the Doctor's son ! Why, any one 
 with half an eye can see he's dead set on her ; but 
 keeps a respectful distance on account of that 
 other one that's gone away. For my part I'd 
 like to see the Doctor's son get her. To my mind 
 they're just suited, and it would be back of my 
 time since Westbridge turned out as good a look-
 
 AN EPISODE A T ROSE CLIFF. 219 
 
 ing couple. As for Leon Thorpe, that girl in 
 Europe took his heart with her, and it'll never 
 come back till she brings it. Nellie and Leon are 
 good friends, and I say away with any one who 
 speaks ill of either of them. I'd trust the whole 
 three of 'em anywhere, but I wouldn't trust an 
 Allen in this town, as far as I could throw a cow 
 by the tail. As for that letter, that was their 
 own business probably ; and I'd whip, within an 
 inch of their life, any young one of mine, if I had 
 any, who'd be so sneakin' mean as to go alistenin' 
 and a tattlin' other people's private business. I 
 ain't np believer in wrong doin's, but when people 
 gits to makin' mountains out of mole-hills, and 
 insinuatin' against pure-minded, straightforward 
 young people, or old ones either for that matter, 
 Hester Cooper ain't the one to stand by and 
 listen without liftin' her voice against it." 
 
 Mrs. Allen sat perfectly still on her chair. She 
 was almost annihilated by this outburst. She 
 did not know what to say for herself, but man- 
 aged to reiterate : 
 
 " Well, I didn't mean no harm and you needn't 
 get so excited, Mis' Cooper ; but I do think its 
 kinder imprudent fer her to be playin' fast and 
 loose with such nice young men as Ralph Strong
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 and Leon Thorpe ; and she a nobody, when there's 
 Florence Pritchard, and a good many more just 
 as good, and may be better than she is." 
 
 " Sabra Allen, put your hand on your mouth 
 and your mouth in the dust. You ain't any more 
 fit to be passin' judgment on them young folks, 
 than you are to be a preacher ; and I'm certain 
 sure you'll have to go up a good many steps of 
 the ladder before you're fit to sit at the same 
 table with Nellie Argyle. As fer playin' fast and 
 loose, that's an out an' out lie, and speakin' of 
 Florence Pritchard, she ain't to be mentioned in 
 the same day with Nellie. I ain't no backbiter, 
 but I won't have her held up over Nellie, when 
 she ain't a bit deservin' ; and you've come to the 
 wrong place to run down folks, and you oughter 
 known that before now." 
 
 Miss Stiles arose and stood by Hester. Her 
 voice was low and distinct as she said, " I agree 
 with Sister Hester perfectly. I wish to hear only 
 good of those with whom I come in contact, un- 
 less obliged to do otherwise, as I have been this 
 morning. My home has never been a trunk line 
 for the sewerage of tongues, nor will it ever be. 
 Good-morning, Mrs. Allen, and remember what- 
 ever you say of us, tell the whole truth, for one
 
 AN EPISODE A T ROSE CLIFF. 
 
 side of a story is always good until the other is 
 told." 
 
 Sabra took her departure without another word. 
 She was thoroughly nonplused. 
 
 " She's gone and I'm glad if I have made her 
 mad. She's the worst backbiter in the known 
 world, and I wonder she's let to live." 
 
 " Well, Hester, you did give her a dressing 
 down, but I think she needed it. The idea of 
 her coming here to me, a stranger, to air her un- 
 pleasant ideas about people I don't know, and 
 perhaps never shall know." 
 
 " But I hope you will get real well acquainted 
 with them, for they're as nice people as there are 
 in Westbridge or Fairbury either." 
 
 " What about this adopted girl ? " 
 
 " Oh, she's every inch a lady ; and that's what 
 Mis' Allen and Mis' Pritchard can't stand. * The 
 Argyles ain't nowhere near their stamp." 
 
 " But this Nellie ? " 
 
 " Oh, they got her in an asylum when she was a 
 little tot, and they've brung her up like their own. 
 She didn't know she was adopted till she found it 
 out through the chattering of those two magpies." 
 
 " How about this lover who is abroad ? " 
 
 " Oh, for him I don't care very much. I think
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 he was taken with her odd, yet spicy ways, but I 
 hardly think anything will come of it. From the 
 way she blushes when Ralph Strong appears, I 
 think her heart is in Westbridge yet." 
 
 " And Ralph Strong is one of Mr. Dean's boys." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Well, there's plenty of chance for things to 
 work out right yet." 
 
 " Yes, if that old besom don't do too much 
 meddlin'." 
 
 " You spoke of some girl Leon Thorpe had an 
 eye on." 
 
 " Oh, Olga Mitchell. She was a perfect fairy. 
 Her father was minister here for several years. 
 They're pretty well off, and do considerable 
 travellin'. She's with them now abroad. Nellie 
 and Olga were fast friends, and I'll bet anything 
 that letter was from Olga. She is light-haired, 
 and Nellie dark ; but they were both little ladies, 
 and used to set a sight of store by each other." 
 
 Mrs. Allen went from there to Mrs. Pritchard's 
 and opened her heart. Their joint conclusion 
 was that Miss Stiles was a grain too airy, and 
 Hester Cooper had better mind her own affairs ; 
 thus expecting more of Hester than they were 
 capable of doing themselves.
 
 THE BARON'S HEIR. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 THE BARON'S HEIR. 
 
 : My hands, my limbs grow nerveless ; 
 My brain feels racked, bewildered ; 
 Let the old timbers part." 
 
 T was a dark and dismal night, with a 
 wild storm raging. High up the moun- 
 tain-side among weather-worn crags 
 and overlooking wide-spreading moors 
 stood the castle of Armadale, a gaunt, gray, 
 rumbling relic of ancient feudal times. It seemed 
 more fit for a rookery for bats and owls, than a 
 human habitation. Its eeriness was still more en- 
 hanced by the rattling of sleet against the small 
 panes of the deep-set windows ; while the search- 
 ing blast shrieked and moaned despairingly among 
 the jagged cliffs. Inky darkness reigned supreme. 
 Within the castle a strange quiet rested over all. 
 A man, in the garb of a nurse, threw open a small 
 window and peered out into the night, but a sheet 
 of sleet and rain met him full in the face, causing
 
 224 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 him to hastily close the window and step back 
 into the dimly-lighted room. In one corner stood 
 a huge, canopied bedstead. A movement in that 
 direction arrested his attention, and in an instant 
 he was bending over a prostrate form, and holding 
 aloft a lighted wax candle, as he gazed anxiously 
 into the shrunken visage of an aged man. 
 
 " What is it, my lord ? " 
 
 " Has he come ? " was the whispered response. 
 
 " Not yet, my lord." 
 
 " I fear he will arrive too late." 
 
 Brandon turned to the table \vhere stood an 
 array of medicine-bottles, and preparing a strength- 
 ening mixture, administered it to the patient. 
 Meanwhile, dashing over the rough country roads, 
 now encountering rocky stretches, and again sunk 
 nearly to the saddle-girth in mud, were two horse- 
 men. Had the animals not been familiar with 
 the way, their riders would have had a poor 
 chance of reaching their destination ; but, sure- 
 footed and faithful, the horses bore their riders 
 safely up the steep ascent even to the drawbridge 
 of the castle. The portcullis was raised, and our 
 horsemen rode into the dimly lighted hallway. A 
 hostler stood ready to take their foaming steeds, 
 while another man-servant removed their sleet-
 
 THE BARON'S HEIR. 225 
 
 encrusted garments, and conducted them to com- 
 fortable quarters. The elder man who had acted 
 as guide addressed the younger. 
 
 " Sir, we had better ascend at once to the sick- 
 chamber. Sir Basil is sinking rapidly." 
 
 A servant with a flickering taper led the way. 
 They passed over stone floors, through halls 
 with heavy oaken-panelled walls, till the guide 
 paused before a massive door. One rap brought 
 the nurse who quickly admitted them. 
 
 " I have just administered a little brandy, and he 
 has rallied slightly. I feared you would be too 
 late." He preceded the men as they approached 
 the sufferer. 
 
 Bending low over the feeble old man, Brandon 
 said, " He is coming, my lord, shall you be able 
 to see him ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes," whispered the baron, " how soon 
 will he be here ? " 
 
 " Even now, my lord." 
 
 The nurse stepped aside, and Clyde Delamere 
 laid his hand on that of the old man, which was 
 even then purpling with the chill of death. A 
 shudder ran through his veins, he had never be- 
 fore been in the presence of the last reaper. 
 
 " Bend lower," the old man whispered, as he 
 15
 
 226 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 used his feeble strength to draw the young man 
 nearer his withered, ashen-hued face. 
 
 Clyde did as requested. Speech had deserted 
 him for the instant. 
 
 " The light, Brandon," from the dying baron. 
 
 The nurse held the candle so its feeble rays 
 shone full on the young man's countenance. 
 
 "You are very like your father, lad." 
 
 " I am pleased to hear you say that, Uncle." 
 
 " I have not long to live, yet there is much I 
 would say, if I only could." 
 
 " You, Brandon, Doctor, come near and 
 listen to what I have to say. Albany, lad ; let 
 me call you so, it was your father's name. I 
 loved your mother, but she chose my brother, 
 aye, a poor younger son, in preference to me, a 
 prospective baron, with a landed estate. I could 
 not bear to see them in their happiness, and after 
 their marriage neither ever entered these castle 
 doors, which, since that day, when he took all 
 the sunshine out of my life, have ever been closed 
 to woman. I am a lonely old man, having lived 
 here year after year on the memory of the love I 
 bore your mother. You are my next of kin. To 
 you I leave the estate and baronial crest of Arma- 
 dale. You, lad, will be Sir Albany ; it is my lat-
 
 THE BARON'S HEIR. 
 
 227 
 
 est wish that you bear your father's name ; and 
 may it bring you more happiness than I have 
 known." 
 
 He paused exhausted. Brandon gave him an- 
 other draught, and after a moment he whispered, 
 " The Dragon of Armadale, your father had it." 
 
 " I have it here, my lord," and he placed in 
 the clammy hand that quaint ring with the dragon 
 engraved upon it. 
 
 " Yes, that is it. I should know it by the feel- 
 ing of it, if I found it in the Catacombs. That 
 will be of as much use to you as a letter of credit, 
 lad, that and your title go hand in hand. What, 
 are you leaving me, lad ? Don't desert the poor 
 old man at the last moment I shall be gone 
 soon ah I cannot see you what ah, Mir- 
 iam ! " 
 
 The poor old face was transformed for an in- 
 stant. Hope, love, joy, all stood revealed as by 
 a gleam of heavenly light. Clyde bowed his 
 head as the old Baron breathed his mother's name. 
 When he raised his eyes to look upon the suf- 
 erer he was not there. The gaunt destroyer 
 had claimed his own. When his presence was 
 no longer needed, Sir Albany retired to the 
 apartment assigned him. Although wearied and
 
 228 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 travel-worn he could not sleep. Until far into 
 the night the storm continued unabated, the 
 wind's weird shrieks and moans being sufficient 
 to drive sleep from the brain of one less excited 
 than was our young traveller. 
 
 Much had occurred in a short time. First came 
 the intelligence to this college youth preparing 
 for the bar, that a distant relative was ill ; next 
 an imperative summons to proceed at once to the 
 sick man's bedside ; and then the knowledge that 
 this man, a peer, was letting his mantle fall upon 
 the shoulders of this aspiring young man. He 
 was not quite thoroughly enough American to 
 laugh at titles ; and, had he been, the title was 
 his just the same. Sir Albany, Baron of Arma- 
 dale ; what a title to lay at the feet of that little 
 girl over there among the hills of New England ! 
 Sleep came at length to the weary eyelids as 
 the storm lulled and died away. Morning ap- 
 proached, and had spread her rosy mantle over the 
 eastern sky several hours before Sir Albany arose 
 and gazed out over the strange landscape 
 
 Have you never been suddenly called away to 
 spend the night, and experienced that strange 
 fereling which comes over one as he arises from 
 sleep and looks out upon a landscape which has
 
 THE BARON'S HEIR. 229 
 
 never before met his gaze ? If you have, then 
 you know with what mingled feelings Sir Albany 
 stood looking out upon that dazzling landscape, 
 over which the sun shone brightly, as though 
 endeavoring to atone for the general disturbance 
 created by the elements the night before. 
 
 All of Clyde's boyhood days had been spent 
 among the hills and vales of the Eastern States, 
 with their long mountain ranges, and wide reaches 
 of meadow-land, where, in the fall, bloomed sun- 
 clad golden-rod, and asters fair to look upon. 
 Here, as he gazed from the narrow stone-bound 
 window .which swung open like a door, he beheld 
 a scene of rugged grandeur such as untraveled 
 eyes could appreciate to the fullest extent. Below 
 the grass-cushioned weather-beaten crags, lay the 
 downs with purpling heather in that soul-inspiring 
 light of the morning sun ; while away in the hazy 
 distance, rising from a sea of green and gold, and 
 outlined against the roseate sky beyond, loomed 
 the ruined walls of an ancient abbey. In very 
 truth this must be the old Mother Country, for 
 all the surroundings bespoke an age of centuries. 
 And all these broad acres of grassy downs, and 
 heath-grown moors, belonged to the Baron of 
 Armadale. Surely, truth is stranger than fiction.
 
 230 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 How would his lady mother have looked upon his 
 exaltation ? Would she have been pleased to 
 have seen him in the place his father would have 
 filled had he lived till no\v ? 
 
 In all probability she would for the "pure blue 
 Scotch bluid " which ran in her son's veins, had 
 been to her a source of great pride. He knew 
 he had titled relatives, though his mother had 
 taught him never to anticipate any renewing of 
 ties ; but it had all come upon him like a blare 
 of trumpets and blazon of arms ; and more or 
 less mental confusion followed. 
 
 Like most men born on American soil, he had 
 not as much respect for an inherited title as for 
 a well-earned professional one ; such as is free to 
 all men of learning and well-balanced brains. But 
 it makes a difference perhaps whether one stands 
 afar off and looks at the golden fruit, or whether 
 he loiters beneath the tree, and catches it as it 
 falls into his willing grasp. Sir Albany, that was 
 his father's name, and his own baptismal middle 
 name. The deceased baron had signified it as his 
 chief desire that Clyde should assume that name, 
 and fortunately, from an American view, he had 
 a perfect right to do so. What would his college 
 mates say, and little Nell, for of course it
 
 THE BARON'S HEIR. 231 
 
 would get into the papers. They never missed 
 such little bits of information. 
 
 Again his thoughts turned in another direction. 
 Was Nellie just the style for the wife of a Baron ? 
 What if her ladyship were a blonde, such as that 
 beautiful girl at Madame Catlin's Seminary ! She 
 would make a charming Baroness, my, wouldn't 
 she take the people by storm ! But he did not 
 know the Scotch people. He had not yet learned 
 that if he should wed a homely Scotch bride, she 
 would be three times as welcome as the most beau- 
 tiful American he could import. But all this time 
 the links in the chain were almost ready to be 
 clinched together. Not twenty miles away, in 
 that charming Highland country, at a retired inn 
 on the banks of the storied Tweed, were the 
 father and mother of that bonnie blonde American 
 girl. 
 
 Weeks passed^on. Sir Basil had been placed 
 at rest among his ancestors in the graveyard 
 adjoining the crumbling ivy-grown abbey. The 
 tenantry were becoming accustomed to the young 
 laird, with his abrupt Yankee speech, : r.d genial 
 air, that savored not one whit of condescension ; 
 and as the weeks wore into months, the Scotch 
 lassies began to wonder if the young laird wouldna'
 
 232 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 soon marry. He could have had his pick of a 
 score of North Country girls, and invitations 
 without number came with requests for his pres- 
 ence at this thing and that, that was going on 
 among the gentry round about. Yet he still 
 wandered fancy free, to all appearance ; and en- 
 joyed the hunting and shooting to his heart's 
 content.
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 
 
 2 33 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 
 
 " Fare thee well ! and if forever, 
 Still forever, fare thee well! " 
 
 NE Saturday, when the first June roses 
 were breathing their fragrance, there 
 came to the Fairbury post office a letter 
 bearing many foreign postmarks. It 
 was addressed to Miss Ellen Douglas Argyle ; but 
 Jared gave it the closest scrutiny hoping to get 
 an inkling of its contents through the thin rice- 
 paper envelope, but with no avail. In fact he 
 had not ceased his examination, when Nellie her- 
 self came in. 
 
 " Is there any mail for us, Mr. Cooper ? " 
 " Yes, a furrin one. They don't appear 'round 
 here very often nowadays." 
 
 Nellie blushed, but said nothing as she took the 
 welcome letter and sauntered down the road. 
 She was provoked at the postmaster for his hate- 
 ful speech. When she got out of sight of the
 
 234 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 office, she would read the letter. It was from 
 Olga, anyway, she knew by the handwriting. 
 Yes, it had been penned under the cloudless sky 
 of storied Florence ; within sight of the Pitti 
 Palace and the Uffizi Gallery, where Olga had 
 spent hours of earnest work. Nellie had climbed 
 the stony road, and had reached the broad avenue, 
 with its rows of stately maples. She could now 
 read her letter in peace. 
 
 " FLORENCE, May, 18 
 " DEAR NELLIE : 
 
 How I long to be with you just for one hour, 
 if no longer, and unburden my soul to you. Now 
 don't start in horror, and imagine I have been 
 doing anything so terribly wrong, for I assure you 
 it is nothing worse than falling in love. Now you 
 are laughing at me I know, for I am certain your 
 sedate little head never bothers itself over the 
 sterner sex ; but I assure you I have a very 
 severe attack of the malady called love. I can 
 talk to you about it from here, though, and very 
 likely if I were face to face with you I couldn't 
 tell you so plainly, though we did use to have 
 some lovely confidentials when we were at 
 Madame Catlin's, didn't we, Nell ? But now for 
 the hero of my heart. Handsome is no name
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 235 
 
 for it. He is absolutely delicious. If mamma 
 doesn't take me a\vay from here very soon, I 
 don't know but there will be a runaway match. 
 He goes through the gallery every day, and once 
 he dropped his card, accidentally of course ; and 
 what do you suppose was on it ? You never 
 could guess. Sir Albany Armadale ; and written 
 in pencil on the back was the name Clyde Dela- 
 mere." 
 
 At this point Nellie caught her breath. In 
 truth, her heart stood still for several seconds, 
 then she read on, 
 
 " The next day he lifted his hat, and the 
 next he stood for fully fifteen earthly minutes 
 and gazed at the painting I was copying. To 
 tell the truth, I didn't know what to do ; but one 
 so seldom meets acquaintances over here in this 
 musty old country that I finally concluded I 
 would let on that I recognized him, and then it 
 was all over with me. He owns an enormous 
 estate in Scotland, in fact, he is a full-fledged 
 baron, and, by the way, a very eligible catch. 
 He wears a beard now, which makes him look 
 more handsome than ever, but he isn't quite as
 
 236 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 saucy as he used to be. Now, don't be surprised 
 to hear of my engagement some day, for he is 
 very attentive, and I certainly think he is the 
 handsomest man I ever saw. I haven't told you 
 a word of the lovely views there are here ; of 
 blue sea, and glossy orange groves, and fields of 
 sweet-faced pansies. It is a perfect lover's land ; 
 and, Nellie, I am spending such happy days. 
 Somehow I feel as though days could never be 
 happier, nor even quite so happy again. Give 
 my love to your mother and father, and regards 
 to Ralph and Leon, as well as to Dr. and Mrs. 
 Strong. 
 
 With oceans of love, 
 
 " OLGA. 
 
 " Mizpah ! " 
 
 Nellie was in a state of great internal excite- 
 ment. Here was a way out of her difficulty ; 
 one she had never dreamed of. Clyde had grown 
 cold toward her; Olga's bright beauty had cap- 
 tivated him ; what a sense of rest and relief stole 
 over her heart. But she could not bear to think 
 that this man who had made love to her, and 
 who had gained her promise that she would be 
 his wife, should so unceremoniously turn to
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 237 
 
 making love to Olga, without so much as bring- 
 ing her into consideration. He was false at heart 
 if he could do this thing. How did he know 
 but that her heart was breaking by his neglect ; 
 for she had heard nothing from him for a long 
 time, and he had never once mentioned the fact 
 of his having been made a baron. His love for 
 her had been of the ephemeral kind. Would to 
 Heaven he had something better and more pure 
 to offer Olga. 
 
 Nellie's eyes were opened, and she saw clearly. 
 A great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. 
 She walked with a lighter step until she came in 
 sight of the doctor's house. Then, like a flash, 
 came over her Leon's devotion to Olga ; his silent 
 love which she had helped him to bear by giving 
 him glimpses of letters whenever she received 
 one. How could she inflict the wound which she 
 knew this letter would be to him. There wasn't 
 much else in it, but this- all-absorbing theme. 
 She couldn't skip that part, and pretend to read 
 the letter, that was certain. What was to be 
 done? She knew Leon was hoping for news 
 from that source, but not news of this kind. She 
 would wait until to-morrow and leave it with 
 all her other troubles at the feet of the great
 
 238 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Burden-Bearer. And then came thoughts of 
 humiliation. Leon would tell Ralph, and Ralph 
 would pity her ; and pity she could not bear. 
 Anything but that from Ralph. If she read 
 that letter to Leon, she must suffer with him 
 in a measure ; but he must not tell Ralph, not 
 for worlds! And the folks at home ! She was 
 in a quandary. 
 
 An hour ago everything was going on as usual, 
 and now things had turned on one of life's hinges. 
 A door had been thrown open revealing another 
 life ; a life for a time full of perplexities and un- 
 pleasantnesses. She could see no way out, only 
 this, she should not inform Olga of her relations 
 with Clyde, for if Olga really loved him where 
 was the sense in marring her happiness? and yet 
 Clyde's infidelity rankled a little, and she could 
 not make it out to be just right, in justice to 
 Olga, to let it go as it was. She would see Leon 
 first at all events. She did not read the letter 
 again just then, and when she reached home it 
 was laid in the little lavender-scented drawer 
 where her foreign letters all found a resting place. 
 The next morning Nellie's rising thoughts were of 
 the letter, and of the ordeal which she must 
 undergo that day. Have you ever spent a June
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 
 
 239 
 
 Sabbath in the country ? Do you know what it 
 is to feel the all-pervading solemn stillness ? A 
 hallowed quiet settles over everything. The cattle 
 seem less restless than on a week day ; while the 
 fowls assume a more sedate air, as they serenely 
 strut about the yard. The breath of summer 
 breezes, stirring in the treetops, seems more gen- 
 tle ; while, over the wide expanse of meadows, the 
 bright sunlight and deep cloud-shadows fall alter- 
 nately on billows of waving grass, bending with 
 harmonious movement before the fragrance-laden 
 breeze. 
 
 She felt like sitting there and drinking in the 
 solemn beauty of a Sabbath morning, with its 
 warbling birds, and lowing cattle, rippling brooks, 
 and whispering breezes, all seeming to join in one 
 great anthem in praise of the Maker of all crea- 
 tion. Do you wonder that Nellie drew very near 
 to the Creator, as she felt the hallowed stillness 
 of the hour, and laying her head upon her clasped 
 hands she whispered, " O Lord, I thank thee for 
 thy goodness, and for thy watchful care over me. 
 Guide me through this day." With that prayer 
 on her lips, she went out to join her mother and 
 father in the herb-scented kitchen. They were all 
 early risers on the Sabbath, as well as on other
 
 240 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 days. The meals were easily gotten, in order that 
 all might go to church service all day. They 
 walked to church on this memorable morning. 
 A visiting clergyman was there, and preached the 
 sermon. It was long and dry, intellectual and 
 comprehensive, but not soul-stirring. The chil- 
 dren hitched uneasily in their seats, rustled palm- 
 leaf fans, and gazed longingly at the trembling 
 branches of the great maples which grew in the 
 churchyard. The heavy tassels on the pulpit- 
 cushion trembled beneath the decisive blows of 
 the preacher's fist ; but the sound was not enough 
 to rouse two sleepers who were carrying on a 
 trombone duet. 
 
 At length the big Bible was closed, and the last 
 hymn sung. There was Leon in the seat with 
 the rest of the family, and Nellie had been think- 
 ing more of him than of the sermon. She played 
 the organ in that little church edifice, and conse- 
 quently was one of the last to leave the building. 
 It was well the hymns had been familiar ones, for 
 her thoughts were not on her work that morning. 
 She kept revolving in her mind how she could 
 best break the news to Leon. For her own sake 
 she was glad she had received the letter. For 
 his sake she was sorry. But the moments were
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 241 
 
 speeding. The people were going, the postlude 
 was finished. She rose to go. Ralph and Leon 
 were sauntering slowly down the aisle. She 
 passed them with a bow and a smile to Ralph, 
 and the word "letter" to Leon. He stepped 
 quickly to her side. 
 
 " When did it come ? " 
 
 " Yesterday afternoon." 
 
 " Is she well ? " 
 
 " Yes," hesitatingly " and happy." 
 
 " That is good news. Is she ever coming 
 back?" 
 
 " She doesn't say." 
 
 " I thought her two years abroad was up now, 
 and she was surely coming back then." 
 
 " I am inclined to think she will stay over 
 there." 
 
 Leon's countenance fell. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I don't like to tell you, Leon, but 
 
 " Yes, I know you promised me I should know 
 whenever she wrote." 
 
 "That is it, Leon. I keep my promise at the 
 risk of your happiness." 
 
 " Have you the letter with you ? " His tone 
 was altered now. He spoke with pent-up feeling. 
 16
 
 242 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " No, I will meet you at the Seven Giants at 
 five this afternoon." 
 
 " Must I wait till then ? " His tone was full of 
 agony. 
 
 " Don't feel badly, Leon, perhaps I have mis- 
 construed it a little. I read it through but once. 
 There was something in it which brought such 
 relief to me that I couldn't bear to read it over, 
 content to rest on what I felt to be an open way 
 before me. And yet," she added, " it means heart- 
 ache for you." 
 
 " She is not engaged to some one ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then, while there is life there is hope," he 
 added with a ghost of a smile. 
 
 She left him at the corner of the street on 
 which she lived. 
 
 " I will be at the Seven Giants at five o'clock 
 sharp ; " and, with a heart full of forebodings, he 
 turned towards his home. Something was about 
 to happen. He knew it as well as he knew he 
 was walking over the gravel walk. 
 
 " Why should the going or coming of one 
 woman affect him so," he asked himself. 
 
 From boyhood, since the Thanksgiving Day 
 during the blizzard when Dr. Mitchell had taken
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 243 
 
 his father's place in the crimson-covered pulpit, 
 Leon Thorpe had laid his heart at the feet of 
 Olga Mitchell. Not in words, but in deeds, 
 through the years that had followed, he had 
 shown his loyalty to her many times. He had 
 hoped much from the few words of promise he 
 had received on that day long ago when they 
 went skating together ; and now he .felt those 
 hopes were about to be hurled to the ground. If 
 she had known the value of that true heart, she 
 would not have cast it aside as something not 
 worth having. 
 
 Leon .Thorpe had attained the age of man- 
 hood, he had been graduated from college with 
 honors. His friends were proud of him, and Olga, 
 over the sea at the time, had, in one of her letters, 
 expressed a personal pride in his advancement, 
 which was more than all other compensation for 
 his years of laborious toil. Had it been a flippant 
 interest she had shown in him ? He would not 
 question, but await the meeting at the Seven 
 Giants. 
 
 The hours passed very slowly to Nellie as she 
 waited for the pointers on the old-fashioned clock 
 in the corner to near the hour of five. She sat in 
 the hammock on the front porch and watched for
 
 244 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the shadows of the row of maples to fall clear 
 across the dusty roadway. The birds sang their 
 sweetest melodies, but every one of them seemed 
 to keep repeating, " I am free, I am free." What 
 a joyful note it struck in her own heart ! She 
 felt as though anew life were opening, and already 
 she was laying plans to go intp effect in the near 
 future. The sunlight took on a more mellow 
 tone ; the birds began to cease their carols of joy. 
 The cows came and stood at the bars lowing 
 gently, as the shadows of the maples grew longer, 
 and the after-glow of an early summer's day 
 settled over the brow of the beautiful Hanging 
 Hills. 
 
 Nellie put on her hat and threw a fluffy white 
 shawl over her shoulders. She knew she should 
 need it in the shadows of the woodland. She 
 passed slowly down the worn but narrow path, 
 over the rail fence, and threaded her way among 
 the wild-turnip and grass bunches that grew at the 
 brookside. Then she came to the crossing, and, 
 lifting her skirts, stepped daintily from one wet 
 stone to another, unless she stood rh the path on 
 the other side. In a few moments she was in 
 sight of the cluster of large oak trees which had 
 been spared by the woodmen, who with still
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 245 
 
 enough of the love of nature in their hearts, for* 
 bore destroying such grand old monarchs, each 
 measuring nearly three feet in diameter. How 
 delightfully cool it was in that secluded spot ! 
 Leon came to meet her as he caught a glimpse of 
 Nellie through the trees. 
 
 " I have been waiting very impatiently." 
 
 " Have you ? " 
 
 " Yes. I have been in a state of misery ever 
 since I saw you. I am anxious to learn my 
 fate." 
 
 " Let me read you the letter, Leon ; and then 
 we can draw our own conclusions." 
 
 Leon helped Nellie to climb up over the roots 
 of those forest monarchs, and then they seated 
 themselves in the hollows between the giant trunks. 
 Nellie leaned back against the rough bark, while 
 Leon rested his head on his hand and waited. 
 She opened the letter and read in a clear low 
 voice. How his heart was torn as Nellie read the 
 words " nothing worse than falling in love." That 
 was a very bad thing to do, if one fell in the 
 wrong direction. He smiled at the allusion to 
 " Nellie's sedate little head." Olga evidently had 
 never been informed regarding Nellie's love-affair, 
 which had created quite a little stir in the village.
 
 246 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Olga's " severe attack of the malady " brought 
 him back to his own heartache again. 
 
 " But now for the hero of my heart," Nellie 
 read. Oh, how he had hoped to be that hero ! 
 How many hours he had worked on the hope of 
 gaining an education that should enable him to 
 give her such a home as she had been used to ! 
 If she only had verified the signs which had been 
 evident in days agone, and which this letter was 
 fast bringing him to believe were purely evan- 
 escent. Alas for youthful delusions ! Alas for 
 vanished hopes ! 
 
 When she reached the words, " You never 
 could guess," she paused. Her heart rose and 
 fell with such force she was sure Leon could 
 hear its thumpings. Oh, the exultation with 
 which she should be able to say she was free from 
 Clyde. 
 
 " Go on ; " Leon could not wait for her to gain 
 her breath. His face was assuming a drawn ex- 
 pression, as though the words she was reading 
 were causing a severe mental strain. Affairs 
 were taking a sad turn for him. 
 
 " Sir Albany Armadale," Nellie was read- 
 ing. 
 
 A queer little smile crossed his face. " Then,
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH. 247 
 
 like so many other American girls, she has been 
 won by a title." 
 
 " Clyde Delamere ; " and Nellie paused. 
 
 Leon rose to his feet and faced squarely about. 
 " The grand rascal. Pardon me, Nellie, but I 
 cannot help it." 
 
 " Never mind, Leon, just listen to the manner 
 in which the friendship was renewed.'' Then 
 she read on to the close. When she had finished, 
 she dropped her hands in her lap, and looked pity- 
 ingly up into Leon's face, while the great tear- 
 drops rose to the surface and rolled down her 
 cheeks. . She was giving him what she would scorn 
 from Ralph ; and in return Leon was gazing into 
 her face, a mixed expression upon his own. Could 
 she mean she was glad of the release which this 
 letter had foretold for her? It must be, for no 
 expression of pain crossed her features, only one 
 of anxious pity for him alone. 
 
 " What does it mean, Nellie ? " was Leon's 
 question, as soon as he felt he could trust himself 
 to speak. 
 
 " Leon, you know all I know ; only I have not 
 heard from Clyde in a long time, and this explains 
 it to me. I had realized long ago that it was a 
 fancy on my part ; and I am sure now it was as
 
 248 STOKM-SWEPT. 
 
 far as he was concerned. What is my duty, 
 Leon ? " 
 
 " You are sure you do not care for him now ? " 
 
 " As sure as I am that I am here. When I 
 read that letter I felt as I am sure a bird does 
 when its cage door is opened, and the bird is set 
 free." 
 
 " Olga appears to care a good deal for him, 
 from the tone of the letter. If he truly loves her, 
 may she be happy, and may he be more true to 
 her than he has been to you. Nellie, you 
 know as well as I I speak to you as to a 
 sister that letter shatters my life-hopes. God 
 help me to live through the rest of the dreary 
 way." 
 
 " Leon, I felt deeply for you when I first read 
 that letter. I knew how much it meant for you 
 as well as for me. How I shall live through the 
 gossip which will follow the knowledge of Clyde's 
 desertion, I do not know ; but this one favor I ask, 
 Leon. Do not tell Ralph. I could never stand 
 his pity. Sooner or later, the news will come to 
 the village, but what we know let us keep between 
 ourselves. It concerns us more than any one else, 
 and I am glad it is we alone who have the secret 
 in our keeping."
 
 HOPE CRUSHED TO DEA Ttt. 249 
 
 " I will do as you desire, Nellie. I will shield 
 your heart as I wish my own shielded." 
 
 " Is it a bargain ?" 
 
 " It is ! Not a soul shall know, not even my 
 mother." 
 
 Silently they walked back to the brookside as 
 the first bell for the young peoples' meeting rang 
 out through the hallowed evening stillness 
 
 "Shall you go, Leon?" 
 
 " Yes, Nellie, for help ; " and she understood 
 his meaning. \ 
 
 She stood at the brookside as Leon lifted his 
 hat and started off across the meadow. How 
 strange that the blasting of one life so often means 
 another's happiness ! 
 
 " No star goes down but shines in other skies. 
 The rose of sunset folds its glory up 
 To burst again from out the heart of dawn ; 
 And love is never lost, though hearts run waste, 
 And sorrow makes the chastened heart a seer. 
 The deepest dark reveals the starriest hope, 
 And Faith can trust her heaven behind the veil."
 
 250 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 UNVEILED BY THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 
 
 " And the stars in the skies, with their great wild eyes. 
 Peered out from the Northern Lights." 
 
 ATI E ! " The effort was followed by a 
 hollow echoing cough, and the poor 
 consumptive's wasted body sank 
 back upon the bank of white pillows. 
 In a few weeks such a change had come over Mrs. 
 Sharon that one would never have recognized, in 
 that wasted shrunken form, the erect and wiry 
 woman whom we first met in the cottage now 
 occupied by the Deans. Quick consumption was 
 fast carrying her beyond that bourne from whence 
 no traveller was ever known to return. Mrs. 
 Sharon and Katie were still at Mrs. Catlin's. 
 Katie, in spite of her useless feet, was one who 
 could not be spared ; so well had she adapted her- 
 self to her position. Mrs. Sharon's sickness had 
 progressed so rapidly, that Mrs. Catlin had not the 
 heart to send her to the hospital ; so Katie was
 
 UNVEILED BY THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 
 
 allowed to care for her mother as best she could. 
 In response to the feeble call, Katie came at 
 once, and her mother's hand lay in hers till she 
 could again speak. 
 
 Then in a husky voice she said, " Katie, what 
 time is it ? " 
 
 " Just half-past nine, mother. I have but a 
 little more mending to do and shall soon go to 
 bed. What can I do to make you more com- 
 fortable ? " 
 
 " Listen to me, Katie, and watch out of that 
 window. Do you see those flashes of light dart- 
 ing through the sky? There is an awful fire 
 somewhere, and I believe it is the world coming 
 to an end." 
 
 " I have been watching the appearance of the 
 sky and it grows more strange every rroment." 
 
 " Katie, I want to tell you something." 
 
 " What is it, mother?" 
 
 " About the children. What is that great shaft 
 of light that spreads over the sky? I must make 
 haste." 
 
 Mrs. Sharon was seized with another coughing 
 spell. Katie was quite alarmed by its severity. 
 When it was over, Mrs. Sharon said, " Do not 
 interrupt me in what I have to say. May I have
 
 252 S TORM-S WEP T. 
 
 breath left for me to tell you all. I told you a 
 falsehood once, Katie. I thought it would be 
 for our good ; but I have never lived an hour 
 since without torture of mind. Mr. Dean never 
 came for the children ; I sent them away." A 
 deep moan escaped from Katie's lips, as she 
 dropped her head upon her hands. Her heart 
 seemed to stop beating. 
 
 " I was gold-greedy, Katie ; I could not bear to 
 see those jewels and the valuables go out of the 
 house. I was a fiend for a time, Katie. I took 
 the things you rescued from the fire. I hid them. 
 I hired Matt to take the children away, and send 
 them adrift. Lost children are usually picked up 
 by the police, you know, and are either put in the 
 asylum, or find good homes. I do not know 
 where or how far he took them. I tell you I 
 was a fiend, oh ! that I was ever so wicked. I 
 know you are mourning away your heart's blood, 
 b".t I must tell you, for the judgment day is com- 
 ing. It is a relief for me to unburden my soul to 
 you, Katie. I know you will hate and despise 
 me, but the burden grows lighter. I told Matt 
 never to show his face again. It was my doings, 
 Katie. I sent him away. Yes, for a few paltry 
 jewels, and a little gold, I sold my soul. Oh, I
 
 UNVEILED BY THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 253 
 
 have suffered. Remorse has eaten deeply into 
 my vitals. I know I shall not live long, so I 
 wanted you to know but I did not want to be on 
 earth when the last trumpet sounded. Katie, 
 child, can you forgive me ? God knows I would 
 undo it all if I could. Take the money and travel 
 the world over till you find Matt. He was going 
 for a three years' voyage. If you can find him 
 after all these years perhaps you can hunt up the 
 children. Mr. Dean would not care if you spent 
 every cent to find them. Oh, it was a wicked 
 thing to do ; and may God have mercy on my 
 soul. .The valuables are in the false bottom of 
 your wheeling-chair. The papers are in the chintz- 
 covered foot-stool. The money is in the bank. 
 Between the tick and the hair of the mattress, 
 one end of it has been ripped and sewed up again, 
 is my bank-book. I have put the money in the 
 bank a little at a time. Be quick, Katie ;" an at- 
 tack of coughing was coming on ; " bring a pen so 
 I can sign the book and you can get the money." 
 Katie hastily found the place where the book 
 had been inserted. She placed the pen in the 
 shrunken fingers, but they could not close to hold 
 it. Katie held her hand, and guided the pen, 
 but the signature was not intelligible. The cough-
 
 254 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ing fit came on, and for some moments Katie 
 waited not knowing whether she were sane or 
 otherwise. After a time Mrs. Sharon whispered : 
 " Come listen ! see, the light grows brighter ! 
 It flashes clear across the sky! Katie, you have 
 me to blame for your poor feet. I gave you 
 medicine to keep you in bed till Matt came. 
 You were badly burned, and I had a good excuse. 
 I thought he would never come ; but he did at last. 
 Do you remember that April morning when you 
 walked out into the kitchen, and I came in and 
 found you there? Matt had been to tell me he 
 had taken the children away, and was back for his 
 money. I didn't ask him where they were. He 
 didn't tell me. I gave him the money, and have 
 never seen him since. Now I have told you all. 
 I would give worlds to bring back the children. 
 Forgive," then up from the depths sprang the 
 crimson life-tide. Then with the strange weird 
 flashing of the northern lights on that peaceful 
 summer night, Mrs. Sharon's spirit passed over 
 the boundary into the unknown country. 
 
 School closed with the end of the month. The 
 girls had made up a purse out of the remnants of 
 their pin-money and had presented it to Katie ;
 
 UNVEILED BY THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 255 
 
 but the poor girl was sick both in heart and mind. 
 The girls thought it was all grief for her mother, 
 but the deepest grief of all was for the two little 
 angels set adrift in some heartless and unfriendly 
 city. The children were only babies then, who 
 could just lisp their pet names. Were they alive 
 after all these years ; or were they under the green 
 daisy-strewn sod, where Katie wished she might 
 soon be? 
 
 How vividly she could recall those dainty little 
 beings, Angie, light-haired, blue-eyed, dimpled 
 and angelic ; Evelyn, dark-orbed, and with unruly 
 curling, brown locks ! " She will have purple- 
 black hair some day like her mother's," Aunt 
 Eunice used to say. 
 
 Katie found herself speaking the last sentence 
 aloud, and in the next breath she said, " I never 
 saw any one with such purple-black hair as Mrs. 
 Dean's, excepting some one, I cannot think 
 who, unless it was Nellie Argyle." 
 
 At this time, even as Katie thought of her, 
 Nellie's own self was in the parlor talking with 
 Mrs. Catlin, and begging of her to allow Katie to 
 go to Primrose Bank for a rest and a change. 
 
 " We will make it just as pleasant as we can 
 for her, Mrs. Catlin."
 
 256 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 The latter smiled. " I do not doubt it, Nellie; 
 and someway I am inclined to think it is just what 
 she needs, an entire change ; for she has been 
 perfectly devoted to her mother, and, at the same 
 time, has not at all neglected her other work. I 
 will speak with her about it." 
 
 The upshot of the affair was that when Deacon 
 Argyle went to the train to meet Nellie, he found 
 Katie Sharon also, accompanied by her rolling- 
 chair and foot-stool. 
 
 " Why, she wouldn't look natural without 
 them, father, said Nellie as the deacon took 
 them in, bag and baggage. And that night when 
 the whippoorwill called, and the night-dew fell, 
 Mrs. Argyle welcomed to her home another 
 motherless girl.
 
 NELLIE'S NE W IDEA. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 NELLIE'S NEW IDEA. 
 
 : I stand and wait, while all around me lies 
 Work that, to me, seems fitted for my hand." 
 
 HE months were passing, and Nellie's 
 new idea had not been put into effect. 
 One early fall evening she sat with the 
 rest of the family around the table in 
 the cosy sitting-room. Nellie had seemed a little 
 restless all day. Each one was busy that night 
 with their own particular bit of pick-up work. 
 Mother Argyle was knitting, Nellie was crochet- 
 ing, while Katie was occupied with her favorite 
 mending. Deacon Argyle was reading the Weekly 
 Sentinel. Nellie stopped her work, and sat gaz- 
 ing abstractedly at the lamp. Suddenly she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Now you are all here together, I have some- 
 thing to say to you."
 
 258 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Every eye was turned toward her. What could 
 be coming now? 
 
 " I am getting out of my teens, and it is time I 
 was settling down to some sort of a life-work." 
 
 " Work ? " growled the deacon, he always 
 growled when anything did not set just right. 
 " Hain't you work enough here, I'd like to know ? " 
 
 " Well, father, I have an ambition." 
 
 " It's a bad thing for girls to have ambitions git 
 into their heads." 
 
 " Whether you would like to have me carry it 
 out, is another question ; but I shall be greatly 
 disappointed if I cannot do this one thing." 
 
 " What is it, daughter ? " 
 
 " I want to go to the hospital and learn to be 
 a nurse." 
 
 " Thunderation ! " that was the deacon's nearest 
 approach to swearing. 
 
 " We couldn't live without you," said Katie. 
 
 " How long have you had this in your mind, 
 dear?" Mother Argyle questioned. 
 
 " For the past six months. My heart is set on 
 going in this fall ; and I do hope you will let me 
 do it." 
 
 " Whatever you do, you'll do well," said the 
 deacon, cooling down a little.
 
 NELLIES NE W IDEA. 
 
 2,59 
 
 " I hope so, father. If I go, it will be with 
 the determination of doing my whole duty. I 
 shall not go for the sake of the money, but be- 
 cause I feel it is a great field for usefulness." 
 
 " So it is, my daughter, and a noble work, 
 too ; but I thought you had other plans for the 
 future." 
 
 " I did have, but very happily for me they were 
 frustrated as this card which I / will show you 
 tells." 
 
 She laid on the table before them a heavy 
 white envelope on which was the coat-of-arms 
 of a baron, the same which had been closely ex- 
 amined by the deacon and his wife as they sat 
 there one evening over two years ago. Father 
 Argyle cleared his throat as he said, " Open it, 
 mother." It was unsealed, and on being opened 
 proved to be an announcement card. It excited 
 considerable comment from the deacon and his 
 wife. 
 
 " Wall, he is a genuine scalawag. I was most 
 afeared of him ; but I thought you sot so much 
 store by him I couldn't bear to see you disap- 
 pointed." 
 
 " Why, Nellie, you seem to take it very coolly, 
 child,"
 
 260 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " So I do, mother, and perhaps you will be 
 glad to know that I am happy to be thus re- 
 leased. The only thing that irritates me is, 
 Clyde Delamere, or rather, the Baron of Arma- 
 dale, did not even consider it necessary to inform 
 me that he wished to break the engagement ; and 
 poor Olga is utterly ignorant, as far as I know, of 
 his having been engaged to me." 
 
 " Wall, he is a dragon for sartin, to treat any 
 gal like that ; and if I had him here I'd teach 
 him, that I would," and the deacon stormed up 
 and down the kitchen. There wasn't room for 
 him to let off steam in the sitting-room ; and 
 when Father Argyle was riled he was riled. 
 
 " Never mind, father, I wouldn't marry a title, 
 any way ; I am too purely American for that ; 
 and it is a long time since I ceased to care for 
 him. I only hope Olga and he truly love each 
 other; but he is such a smooth-tongued gentle- 
 man one is apt to mistake admiration for love, 
 as in my case ; but the gloss has worn off as far 
 as I am concerned. Now about my project ? " 
 
 " Nellie," said the deacon, pausing in the door- 
 way his arms akimbo, " you can do anything you 
 are a-mind to. I give you a good long credit 
 mark for bein' sensible in this matter, and I be-
 
 NELLIE'S NE W IDEA . 261 
 
 lieve you've got some pretty good material in 
 you, such as '11 carry you through seein' legs an' 
 arms sawed off, and eyes gouged out, and all the 
 rest of the et-ceteras." 
 
 " Now, father, I hardly know how to take you." 
 
 " Wall, I mean just what I say. A girl that 
 can give up a lover like that, after all the fuss he 
 made over you, and vice versa, has got consider- 
 able grit in her; and I'll help you to carry out 
 your plan if it takes the last dollar." 
 
 " Oh, but it won't, father, I've saved nearly 
 enough to carry me through. Of course, it is 
 not a common occupation ; but I feel as though 
 as a nurse I could do a greater amount of good 
 than in any other way." 
 
 " Yes, dear," and Mother Argyle's voice was 
 tremulous in the extreme. She tried to command 
 it but could not ; and the tears rolled down the 
 furrowed cheeks, while Nellie brushed them away, 
 begging of her not to feel badly. But the 
 mother-heart was full, and she had to have her 
 cry out. It was something very unusual to see 
 Mother Argyle in tears, but it was the thoughts 
 of this child leaving the home which had sheltered 
 her for so many years. 
 
 " I shall come back, mother."
 
 262 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 11 Yes, child, but when you have once gone, 
 and have learned your trade, or whatever you 
 call it, then you will have to go where duty calls 
 you always ; and what of the poor old father and 
 mother, childless, when they need you so much 
 in these later years ? " 
 
 " But, mother, you and father will always have 
 the first claim on me." Katie's heart, too, was 
 full ; too full for utterance. If she had looked 
 up the tears would have rained down. 
 
 Nellie prepared herself for the examination, 
 and was admitted to the hospital. Was it not a 
 strange coincidence that about this time Ralph 
 Strong was chosen out of a class of sixty aspiring 
 applicants, and placed in the office of house-sur- 
 geon at the hospital where Nellie was enrolled as 
 nurse. Call it happening if you will. To my 
 mind nothing happens. It is all in the plan of 
 an overruling Power. And it is that same Provi- 
 dence which makes one's gain another's loss ; the 
 increased happiness of one, to mean bitter pain 
 for some one else ; and so it certainly was in this 
 case. 
 
 Olga was gone beyond the reach of Leon 
 Thorpe, but his whole heart had gone out to her, 
 and it could never return to be given to any one
 
 NELLIE'S NEW IDEA. 263 
 
 else. He realized the blight which had fallen 
 upon his young life, "and manfully strove to hide 
 it. Ke busied himself with his books ; he studied 
 early and late ; he strove in all ways which sug- 
 gested themselves to a pure and upright nature 
 to subdue this clamorous love which was slowly 
 absorbing his life. He seldom heard anything 
 regarding Olga now. Nellie was busy with her 
 training, but occasionally found time to write him 
 a few lines, though she seldom mentioned Olga, 
 except once to say, " I had a letter from Olga the 
 other day, she is travelling in Italy now " ; and 
 again, " Olga is on her way to her Highland castle, 
 she says in her last hurriedly written letter." No 
 more tidings as to whether she was happy, nor 
 in fact any particulars whatsoever. 
 
 So the days and weeks and months monoto- 
 nously sped on at Westbridge. But across the 
 water time was telling. While Nellie kept up her 
 daily routine, or alone with the sick and dying 
 paced to and fro in her ward through the long 
 watches of the night, our gay, light-hearted 
 Olga was as surely learning her lessons in training 
 for a service which lay only a little farther along 
 on her heretofore flower-strewn pathway. While 
 Nellie daily felt how great was the field opening
 
 264 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 before her, how quickly she must work to get in 
 all that was possible in a day with very few spare 
 moments in it ; Olga's life was narrowing down 
 to a focus which must be arrived at ere she could 
 look beyond even one little hour.
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 265 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 
 
 " They say they love us, perhaps they do, 
 
 In a masculine way, as they love their wine ; 
 But the soul of a woman needs something more, 
 Or it suffers at times, like mine." 
 
 HE heather was in full bloom and was 
 purpling the downs, when Sir Albany 
 took home his American bride. It was 
 not long before she had won her way 
 into the hearts of all in the neighborhood, and 
 many an old heart " greeted sair for the bonnie 
 lassie brought far from home and friends, and set 
 high up on the crags in the gloomy old castle." 
 Olga did not mind it for a time, as long as Clyde 
 was so very attentive ; but as months passed on, 
 his ardent love cooled, and many a time when he 
 returned from hunting trips were the wee wife's 
 eyes bathed in tears. He poohed at her; called 
 her a crybaby ; and gave sundry other appella- 
 tions which appeared very hateful indeed to the
 
 266 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 poor child who was only home-sick, and hungry 
 for a little mothering. With so much time on 
 her hands Olga turned to her painting, and as the 
 months went by she conceived an odd fancy. 
 
 At the time of her marriage a strange truth had 
 come to light, one which she had often imagined, 
 but had been led to believe was not true. Dr. 
 and Mrs. Mitchell had, until that time, seen fit to 
 keep it a secret that Olga was an adopted daugh- 
 ter ; and the newly-gained knowledge had kept 
 her brain in a constant whirl and tumult of query. 
 Since that-knowledge the face which she had 
 laughingly asserted to Nellie haunted her, had 
 done so in very truth, for some way she associ- 
 ated it with her earliest years. The fancy grew 
 into a fixed purpose, and procuring a small can- 
 vas, she set about the task of transferring to it 
 the face which hung over her whether she were 
 awake or sleeping. She had never told Clyde of 
 this fancy of hers, for it was to her a sacred 
 thought, one never breathed to either father or 
 mother, who, now that she was married, left her 
 alone in her new home ; while they, after a few 
 weeks' stay with her, went on in their search of 
 pleasure, freed from the care of a child which was 
 not their own. Left alone so much, she devoted
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 267 
 
 her spare time to this self-imposed task ; although 
 moments and hours of needed rest were also spent 
 upon the finest and daintiest of nedlework. 
 
 One morning, as they sat at breakfast, Sir Al- 
 bany looked at the wee wife, and for the first time 
 noticed how pinched and pale she was looking. 
 His heart gave a strange little twinge of remorse 
 as he thought of how much he had neglected her 
 of late, for the shooting had been fine, and the 
 birds quite gamey. He would try and spend a 
 little more time with her that very afternoon. As 
 he left the breakfast room he gave her cheeks a 
 little pinch, as he lifted her face to his for a good- 
 bye kiss, remarking, " I am afraid you are em- 
 broidering too much, little girl ; you must not 
 work quite so hard. I shall be home a little 
 earlier to-day, so don't get too tired out." She 
 rewarded him with one of her old smiles, and with 
 a light heart went about her labor of love. 
 
 Tiring of sewing, after a little, she put the 
 dainty work aside and went to the little room in 
 an out of the way turret of the old castle, a cosy 
 little nook which she had chosen as a studio. 
 Clyde paid very little attention to such work 
 nowadays. He was too much wrapped up in the 
 shooting. He did not even know she was paint-
 
 268 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ing. Most likely, under existing circumstances, 
 he would have forbidden it entirely ; but as he 
 did not know, the wee wife worked on. She was 
 fast gaining the expression she had striven so hard 
 to obtain. The kindly dark eyes were gazing at 
 her from the wet canvas. She was sitting with 
 her brush in her hand, her mind away back in 
 bygone years, trying so hard to connect that face 
 with something of the past, but without avail. 
 She had not quite come back to the present when 
 her dreaming was disturbed. Sir Albany was 
 speaking. He stood in the doorway, his blanched 
 face in strong contrast with the darkness of the 
 passage. 
 
 " Indeed, my lady, and who might this lover 
 be?" He had asked no questions, and his words 
 were an accusation. The demon Jealousy had 
 seized him, and the old dragon blood was aroused. 
 She did not move, for his words chilled her to the 
 heart. He made a move toward the picture, say- 
 ing, " Speak, woman, before I destroy the proof 
 of your perfidy. By the bones of the dragon, but 
 you must do well to paint such a speaking face 
 from memory." His words were full of irony, 
 while his dark eyes almost flashed fire. 
 
 Olga had never seen this side of his nature, but
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 269 
 
 it cut her to the quick. She arose and stood be- 
 fore him in all her womanly dignity. Her face 
 was blanched, but not with fear ; the deer was at 
 bay. 
 
 " Clyde Delamere," and her voice was low and 
 intense, "dare to destroy that picture, dare to 
 even mar it, and by the quivering little life which 
 will some day own you its father, I charge you, 
 Dragon of Armadale, you will rue it. You dare 
 to make insinuations! Look at your own life 
 and see who has cause for jealousy. As for that 
 face, it is one that has haunted me, haunts me yet ; 
 who it is I do not know, only this, that wherever 
 I turn I see that face, and paint it I will, though 
 all the demon dragons of Armadale swoop down 
 on this ill-fated castle. You have feigned to love 
 me, but love is not in your nature. You are a 
 fascinator; a fiend, dragon-like seeking whom you 
 may devour. I am at your mercy, I say it, at the 
 mercy of my husband ; and shame upon you that 
 you dare to insult me, I, your wife, and the 
 mother of your unborn child. I pray that no 
 calamity overtake you before you beg forgive- 
 ness for having judged me with such terrible 
 injustice." 
 
 She raised her hand to her head, reeled back-
 
 270 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 ward, and sank insensible at the feet of the con- 
 science-stricken man. 
 
 "God forgive me! I have killed her !" His 
 anger was gone, he knew she had spoken only the 
 truth. 
 
 If she would only speak, just to say she for- 
 gave him ; but there she lay white and cold, with 
 the blood settling in the hollows of her face. He 
 took her in his arms and staggered under the 
 heavy burden till he laid her on a couch in her 
 own apartment. Then he rang for Jean, and left 
 the room as soon as the woman came. She 
 bathed the white face and rubbed the stiffened 
 limbs, all the while talking in her own motherly 
 way. " My puir wee bairn. I thocht he wad be 
 the deith o' her ane o' these days. My puir wee 
 girl, she could na stand it ; she war that nearvous. 
 She war too muckle tried, my wee girl was. It is 
 he that has killed her ; wae tae him, wae, wae ! " 
 and so old Jean mourned as she chafed the cold 
 hands and bathed the marble-like brow. After a 
 time the eyelids quivered, and a convulsive move- 
 ment showed that life was not extinct. In an- 
 other hour she had regained partial consciousness, 
 but the strain had been too much for the poor 
 little mother-elect. Before the dawn of the mor-
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 271 
 
 row's sun a new life had sprung into being, and 
 Olga for the first time had experienced the pangs 
 of motherhood. For days and weeks her life 
 hung on a thread, as did also the little life sum- 
 moned before its time ; but God is merciful, and 
 in his goodness spared them both. Old Jean had 
 a very tender spot in her heart for both of them ; 
 and she did everything'she could think of to bring 
 a little color to the too pale cheeks. 
 
 But through all these anxious days where was 
 Sir Albany? His conscience was a very uncom- 
 fortable thing to possess about this time. He 
 was sure Olga would hate him if she were alive, 
 and she 'must be, or he would have heard if any- 
 thing dreadful had happened. And if she were 
 to hate him what was the use of going back, so he 
 might as well go away and stay. So he travelled 
 on while weeks grew into months. He went as 
 far as Florence, and there went over the ground 
 he and Olga had gone over in their days of love- 
 making ; and every step he took made him hate 
 himself more and more. What a brute he had 
 been, all too undeserving of such a treasure as he 
 now realized his wife to be. Oh, why had he 
 allowed the dragon Jealousy to gain possession 
 pf him !
 
 272 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 He went on to Venice where they had spent 
 some days during their first newly-wedded hap- 
 piness. Oh, if those days would only come back 
 again, how differently he would do ! He hailed a 
 gondolier one evening, and was soon gliding over 
 the moonlit waves, he reclining alone among the 
 luxurious cushions. If Olgawere only there, and 
 had forgiven him ; but better still, if the harsh 
 words had never been said ! The music came 
 softly, sweetly out to him while the countless gay 
 lights from cornices and roofs, and even from the 
 water's edge, were reflected in silver and gold in 
 the ripples of the lagoon. High up along the 
 balconies he could see the flaming torches flicker- 
 ing, while all around the lagoon were the white 
 faces and dark forms of the people looking down 
 on the beautiful scene. In the distance he saw 
 the shimmering multi-colored waters ; and heard 
 the gurgling murmur of the fountains. How dif- 
 ferently it had sounded when Olga was there ; now 
 he could take no pleasure in it. At a sign from Sir 
 Albany, the stoical gondolier dexterously swung 
 his gondola to the water's edge, and Clyde was 
 soon in his hotel getting ready to start for home. 
 He could stand it no longer. All the old passion 
 had been aroused by this hasty visit to a place
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 273 
 
 so closely associated with Olga. He would go 
 back to her, and beg the forgiveness she alone 
 could grant. 
 
 When once headed for home, it seemed that 
 the creeping railway trains would never get to 
 Calais. Over the channel, and up through the 
 rugged Scotch country, the journey took days 
 which seemed interminable ; and after all, if she 
 were still alive, how would she receive him ? He 
 had been gone so many months, there had been 
 time for a good deal to happen. Poor Olga! 
 her period of convalescence was lengthy and 
 tedious. All alone in the old castle, with no com- 
 panion save Jean and the wee baby, how slowly the 
 time dragged on ! Olga still remained weak and 
 weary, nothing that was done seeming to be of 
 any avail. She wrote to her mother at length, 
 and after a time she came. She sat in Olga's 
 room one evening, soon after her arrival, engaged 
 in conversation. 
 
 " You say you have never heard from him?" 
 
 " No, not one word ! I have no more idea than 
 you where he is. If I stay here I shall go crazy. 
 I must get away somewhere ; but where can I go 
 with this little lamb?" 
 
 " You might leave her with Jean and go with us 
 18
 
 274 
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 for a time. It will never do for you to drag her 
 around with you ; and you will never get well in 
 this gloomy place." 
 
 " Oh, mother, I cannot, cannot leave my baby. 
 Dear little life, if she should die I should never 
 forgive myself." 
 
 " But, Olga, you must not look at it in that 
 way. If you do not go you will never get well, I 
 am afraid ; so which is the better way to do ? 
 You surely would rather leave her with Jean 
 for a few months, than to have to leave her 
 entirely." 
 
 "You are right, mother; I will think of it, but 
 it seems very hard, but Jean will be good to her. 
 I know ; I could not leave her in better hands." 
 
 So it was arranged that the little Alma, a? 
 Olga had named her, should be cared for by old 
 Jean. The night before their departure had come, 
 and Olga alone with the child in her room, rocked 
 and crooned over her. There was no light there 
 excepting that thrown by the flickering of the 
 burning logs in the chimney-place. 
 
 " My dear little treasure bird ; " and she held 
 the wee form close to her breast, her lips touch- 
 ing the soft little ringlets which clustered about 
 the sweet baby face. " My own little love, is
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 
 
 2 7S 
 
 it wicked for me to leave you ? How mamma 
 loves to cuddle you close in her arms, and to feel 
 your baby fingers, and hear your soft cooing, 
 and watch your wondering eyes studying her 
 face ! I wonder if I were my mother's own child, 
 if she would ask me to part with you ? It is 
 like stopping the beating of my heart to even 
 think of letting you go. We may be gone six 
 months, may be more, and what a big girl you 
 will be then ! Oh, my little Alma, perhaps you 
 will never see me again!" Her frame shook as 
 she sobbed over the little one, who looked up into 
 her face -and smiled. Then she calmed herself 
 and went on. " Yes, my little daughter, perhaps 
 I shall leave this world of trouble, leave my pre- 
 cious one to grow up to battle with the temp- 
 tations and troubles of life, but I leave you in 
 the care of my heavenly Father, and he will never 
 forsake you. I have not done as much for him 
 as I ought. I have been gay and frivolous ; but 
 it was my nature. If I am spared, I will try and 
 6(9 more for him who has blessed me with such a 
 treasure to keep for him. Yes, little one, ' when 
 thy father and mother forsake thee, then the 
 Lord shall take thee up.' And, darling, if I 
 never see you again, if I reach first that beau-
 
 276 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 tiful home called heaven, God permitting, mother 
 will come back to this world of trouble to be a 
 watchful guardian ever at your side ; helping 
 you in time of sorrow, shielding you from every 
 harm. Oh, if you were only a little older ! 
 Your father may come back some day, some- 
 time. If he only knew that when your little form 
 first lay in my arms, all the old love came back, all 
 the unkind words were forgiven, all the dark past 
 was forgotten in that new found bliss. But he 
 cannot know, he cannot know." And then the 
 little one was laid in her bed the last time that 
 mother should lull her to sleep, while the babe 
 was such a helpless wee one. 
 
 When the morning came, there was a sad, sad 
 parting between mother and child ; but the grand- 
 mere's stronger will prevailed, and old Jean was- 
 left behind with the little Alma, while Olga and 
 her mother went in search of health and strength 
 among the mountains of Switzerland. Months 
 had gone by, when there came a letter from Jean 
 that sent terror to the heart of the young mother, 
 and sore were her upbraidings of self. 
 
 " MY DEAR MISTRESS : 
 
 " I kenna what to do. The Maister is come
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 277 
 
 agen, and tells me that I maun tak the wee one 
 and gae 'long wi' him to America. I am sair tried, 
 but wha' can I do agen the faither of the bairn ? 
 I wad hae ye come richt awa' hame, for \ve maun 
 be on oor way by anither week. 
 
 " JEAN MACDUFF." 
 
 Olga was prostrated by the news. They had 
 never thought of such a thing as that happening. 
 All they could do was to take the next train for 
 home. If Jean had only telegraphed ; but she 
 probably had not thought of such a thing. Where 
 could he be going with the child ? If he took old 
 Jean with him she would keep them informed ; 
 but supposing Sir Albany took it into his head 
 to employ another nurse? How Olga prayed 
 that she might get back to Armadale before the 
 departure for America ! As fast as the slow trains 
 would cany them, they travelled back to the cot- 
 tage where Alma had been left. They arrived 
 at the station and drove at once to Jean's 
 home. 
 
 Olga burst into the room, and there in a low 
 chair sat the faithful old servant crooning a soft 
 lullaby over the beautiful little girl, who slept 
 with her plump white arms twined about the old
 
 278 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 woman's neck. Olga sank on the floor before 
 them, and burying her face in the child's lap, 
 sobbed out her joy. The baby slowly opened her 
 eyes, and looked wonderingly at Olga, then up 
 into old Jean's face. 
 
 " Don't you know your mother, darling? This 
 is mother come back to you, precious one. How- 
 foolish I was ever to leave you ! " But the little 
 one clung all the closer to Jean, and looked over 
 her shoulder at this strange woman who was 
 making such an ado over her. 
 
 Then Olga cried tears of true grief ; for she 
 really expected the child would remember her, 
 but it did not. After a little coaxing with her 
 watch and gold beads, she persuaded the child to 
 come to her, then, with the babe safely in her 
 arms, she ventured to ask, " Where is Sir Al- 
 bany ? " 
 
 " Aweel, Mistress, we were to tak' the steamer 
 the day, but the Lord prevented it. May the 
 gude God and the kirk forgive me if I prayed an 
 evil prayer, but I thocht it a sair shame to be 
 after whiskin' the wee bairn out o' its ain countree 
 athout a sight o' its mither's face for so long a 
 time ; and sae I said, Dear Lord, forgive me for 
 askin', but if it be not agen thy will, prevent the
 
 A CHAPTER O:' INCIDENTS. 279 
 
 Maister fra takin' the bairn before its mither 
 comes, e'en if thou hast to lay him low." 
 
 Then she leaned forward and said in a hushed 
 voice, " He answered that prayer last nicht. 
 The Maister was comin' fra the town, and was 
 rjallopin' up the rocky way to the castle, when 
 in some way or ither the horse threw him and 
 brak' his leg. And Donald heard the horse come 
 tearin' hame athout the Maister, and it was then 
 he sat out to luik for him and found him lyin' 
 there groanin'. They took him to the castle and 
 got the doctor and he set the bone and bandaged 
 him up weel and said he was gude for sax weeks 
 on that bed. But ne'er you mind, bairn, the gude 
 Lord's hand struck him doon, or we wad hae 
 been out on the deep, and you left here greetin' 
 sair." Olga sat still and white as she listened 
 to old Jean. It was months since she had seen 
 her husband ; they had then parted in anger; and 
 when he came back and found her gone he de- 
 cided at once to take the baby away. But had 
 she not left it with Jean ? How she blamed 
 herself for that ! In truth she had blamed her- 
 self for months ; but her mother had kept her 
 from thinking she was doing aught so very 
 wrong. Now she was back again, how she longed
 
 280 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 for all the intervening days to be lived over again, 
 that she might spend them with her baby, and 
 watch the budding blossom open ! Poor Sir Al- 
 bany ! Her wifely heart had long ago forgiven 
 his cruel words, but pride kept her from wishing 
 to seek him, for was not his the greater fault? 
 Now he was ill, and all alone in the old castle ; 
 with its dark halls and walls with musty hangings, 
 for it had been closed all this long while. Mrs. 
 Mitchell had found comfortable quarters at the 
 Armadale Inn ; and now the coach of that estab- 
 lishment stood at the door ready to convey Olga 
 thither. 
 
 " Come, Jean, with me." Olga carried the 
 child herself. She could not bear to allow it to 
 leave her arms. The trio entered the carriage, 
 and Olga said, "To the castle." The driver 
 turned in that direction, and slowly the lumbering 
 coach rolled up the rocky road. Jean pointed 
 out the spot where Sir Albany w r as thrown, and 
 then in a few moments they were at the castle 
 gate. 
 
 It was with mingled emotions that she entered 
 the doorway. The old love said, " Your place 
 is here ; " but pride answered, " Go back to the 
 inn. He left you, and it is his place to seek you."
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 281 
 
 Then love responded, " He left you here and 
 expected to find you here ; " so between love 
 and pride poor Olga was in sore distress. She 
 had come with a heart full of a fear that the child 
 would be gone ; but Providence had aided her. 
 She would go to her rooms and think over what 
 was the best thing to do. With a heart full of 
 strange emotions she entered her own apart- 
 ments. They were just as she had left them, 
 cleanly and well ventilated. She would just take 
 a glance at Sir Albany before she ventured to 
 enter the room, and carry out the resolution that 
 was fast forming in her mind. She stepped to 
 the heavy curtained doorway and noiselessly slid 
 the door open. There he lay at length, quiet and 
 ghastly, his head bandaged about with white, and 
 his face almost as colorless as the bandages. 
 
 What a contrast to the handsome and faultlessly 
 attired Clyde Delamere of old ! A great pity 
 swelled her heart, and then like a clutch at her 
 throat came the thought that on that day he had 
 fully intended to be on his way to America with 
 her baby. Yes, he had meant to take little Alma, 
 and leave her behind, with the broad Atlantic 
 rolling between them. Then the thought came, 
 ' What if he should die ? " and the old love
 
 282 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 tugged unmercifully at her heart-strings. He 
 moved and moaned. She drew back still further 
 into the friendly shadow of the curtains. She 
 would not have him see her for worlds just now. 
 Old Donald watched near him, and the instant a 
 move was made he was at the sick man's side. 
 
 " Donald ! " it was a weak voice which spoke, 
 weak and husky, and one hand groped about as 
 if feeling to know if any one were near. The 
 faithful old man signified his presence. 
 
 " Service, my lord." 
 
 "Who is here?" 
 
 " No one." 
 
 " I thought it was my wife. I felt her breath 
 upon my hand. I could swear to it." 
 
 At that instant Olga would have rushed to 
 his side but prudence forbade. 
 
 " Do not excite yourself, my lord. We can 
 send for her if you wish." Now she should learn 
 whether he would be pleased to see her. She 
 listened breathlessly. So much depended on 
 what he should say, but oh, perverseness of fate, 
 or contrariness of human nature. He was making 
 reply : 
 
 " I don't know that I care to see her, particu- 
 larly."
 
 A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS. 283 
 
 It had cooled his ardor to come home and find 
 her gone. 
 
 " Dinna fash yourself, sir. How soon could you 
 stand seein' her?" 
 
 " I tell you I don't want to see her. If it 
 hadn't been for this confounded accident she 
 wouldn't have stood much chance of seeing me 
 very soon." 
 
 "Tut, tut, sir; I've told you over and over it 
 was her mither that persuaded her to leave the 
 bairn." 
 
 " That's all right. I can take care of it when I 
 get over this." 
 
 Those words capped the climax. Instead of 
 being humbled by the calamity which had be- 
 fallen him, the perverse side of his nature had 
 been aroused. If he was in that spirit, though he 
 was ill, he did not care to see her ; and it were 
 better that she should go and let him seek her if 
 he so desired. She turned sadly back to her 
 room, little thinking that, as a sick one often 
 will, the wretched man had said precisely what 
 he did not mean ; it being only a bit of bravado 
 to bluff old Donald. If he had but known that 
 she heard ! 
 
 With a sinking heart, the poor little wife re-
 
 284 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 gretfully picked up a few of her most treasured 
 belongings. When all was in readiness for her 
 departure she stepped back to the doorway and 
 took a last glance at Clyde. He was not seriously 
 ill, though his wound would require time for 
 healing; he was still angry with her, and did not 
 wish to see her, and last and most important of 
 all, he still thought of taking away the baby. 
 Then sadly, with a great load in her breast, and a 
 feeling as though iron hands were clutching her 
 heart, she turned away from the room and made 
 haste to get back to the inn. She could not 
 trust even Jean with the child now, for she did 
 not know what might come to pass. Mrs. Mitchell 
 advised her to take the next steamer for Amer- 
 ica ; and in a very short time she was on her way, 
 her mind in a state of great excitement. Her 
 only thought was to get the child to a hiding- 
 place of safety; and what more restful harbor 
 could she go to than Primrose Bank ?
 
 KA TIE INTER VIE WS A UNT EUNICE. 285 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 KATIE INTERVIEWS AUNT EUNICE. 
 
 1 Oh, breaking heart that will not break ; 
 Oh pale, pale face, so sweet and meek ; 
 What wantest thou ? Whom dost thou seek ?" 
 
 HE apple trees spread delightfully cool 
 shadows over the front grass and down 
 the sloping green grade to the dusty 
 road. Up by the house, where the 
 gnarled old trees spread their broad limbs, was 
 hung a hammock, and there one pleasant afternoon 
 Katie Sharon lay enjoying a siesta. Mrs. Argyle 
 had helped her into the comfortable seat,' and had 
 left her with a book. 
 
 " You haven't been like yourself the last few 
 weeks, and you must get out of doors more ; " had 
 been Mrs. Argyle's parting solicitous remark. 
 
 How Katie wanted to ask Mrs. Argyle's ad- 
 vice, but it was such a hard matter to explain ; 
 there were the dead as well as the living involved, 
 and the more she thought of it, the more she
 
 286 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 felt as though she was the most to blame for 
 having taken the children to her home instead 
 of to Mrs. Van Alstyne's. But what better 
 could she have done with her heavy burden, and 
 smarting burns, and anxiety and fright blended 
 together? The more she thought of it, the 
 harder it seemed to find a way out ; and then no 
 one knew what changes might have taken place, 
 so many years had gone by. As Katie lay there 
 dozing and thinking, she heard a step coming up 
 the walk, but her position was so comfortable, 
 and she was so nearly asleep, that she could not 
 bear to move and drive away the delightful sensa- 
 tion of perfect rest which was stealing over her. 
 
 After a time a carriage passing rapidly aroused 
 her, and she awoke with the thoughts of the 
 children, and the unperformed duty which ever 
 stared her in the face. Then, as she had done 
 hundreds of times before, she breathed a prayer 
 that the way might be opened to lead her in the 
 right direction very soon. As she fell to thinking 
 again of her present surroundings, she caught the 
 sound of a voice from one of the sitting room 
 windows. It was strangely familiar. Then it 
 came again. She wondered where she had heard 
 it before. The voice approached the door. The
 
 KA TIE INTER VIE WS A UNT E UN ICE. 287 
 
 owner evidently was about to depart. As Mrs. 
 Argyle threw open the blind door, she said, 
 " Drop in often, Miss Stiles, we shall be glad to 
 have you for a neighbor." 
 
 Katie swung around to an erect sitting pos- 
 ture, in order to view the figure coming down 
 the path. A choking sensation came into Katie's 
 throat, and she felt a sudden pain in the region 
 of her heart. "Aunt Eunice ?" The voice qua- 
 vered a little, and then came a flood of tears. 
 Her opportunity had arrived, but where had Miss 
 Stiles come from ? She was the last person on 
 earth she had expected to see at that moment. 
 
 How like many of us, was Katie. We pray 
 earnestly for some desired object, and when our 
 prayer is answered, we are as much astonished as 
 though we had never asked. Ah, how lax is our 
 faith ! The lady in turn was startled by being 
 thus addressed, for it was years since any person 
 other than Mr. or Mrs. Dean had called her by 
 that name. 
 
 " Was it you who called me, miss ? " as she 
 approached the sobbing form. 
 
 The girl held up her tear-stained face and said, 
 " Do you not know me ? I beg pardon for not 
 rising, but I cannot walk."
 
 288 STORM-SWZPT. 
 
 Eunice Stiles looked anxiously into the scarred 
 face, and shook her head. " No, you have the 
 advantage of me, my dear ; but what can I do 
 for you? Mrs. Argyle told me there was a young 
 lady making her home here, but when she came 
 to call you, you were asleep and she thought she 
 would not disturb you." 
 
 " Don't you remember Katie Sharon?" 
 
 "Why, certainly I do, but " 
 
 " I am Katie Sharon." 
 
 " That is impossible, for Katie was lost with 
 the children years ago." 
 
 "Aunt Eunice, as God is my Judge, I am that 
 Katie ; and these scars on my face are the result 
 of that fire. Alarm number sixty-three for 
 months rang in my ears, sleeping or waking. 
 And the children God knows I saved them with 
 the jewels at the risk of my own life." 
 
 " Then where are they now ? " 
 
 Aunt Eunice had risen by this time and ex- 
 citedly seized Katie by the shoulder. 
 
 "That I cannot tell you, but if I had not 
 stopped to save them, I should not have had 
 these scars, neither should I have spent months 
 on a bed of pain." 
 
 " You speak in riddles. You say you saved the
 
 KA TIE INTER VIE WS A UNT E UNICE. 289 
 
 children and some valuables, yet have never let 
 it be known. You must unfathom these mysteries, 
 for you make yourself liable for a very grave 
 offence, Mr. Dean would say." 
 
 " Where can I find him ? " 
 
 " We expect him home to-night." 
 
 " Then to-night I will see Mr. Dean if he will 
 call here, for I am in no condition to go to him. 
 Had it not been for my crippled condition I 
 should have searched for him as soon as I knew, 
 but the work was done too well." 
 
 " As soon as you knew what ? " 
 
 " Did I not tell you ? It is only a very short 
 time since I found the children had not been 
 restored to their parents." 
 
 Aunt Eunice groaned aloud. " Girl, that 
 mother nearly died over the loss of those children. 
 Her mind has never been entirely right since 
 then ; and their father grew gray on that terrible 
 night. We have only lately come to Westbridge 
 to see what a change of this sort will do. We 
 have been to the shore, and to the mountains, 
 North, South, East and West ; but all is of no 
 avail. Why, I so wonder, have you never let 
 people know you were alive ? " 
 
 " Miss Stiles, bring Mr. Dean to me; I would 
 19
 
 290 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 crawl to them on my hands and knees if I could, 
 and tell them both the unbroken story. It has 
 almost killed me since I have known all ; but I did 
 not know which way to turn, so many years have 
 gone by." 
 
 " I will bring Reginald Dean with me if he 
 comes home to-night, or my name is not Eunice 
 Stiles ; " and she walked hastily down the path 
 to the road. Katie was completely unnerved. 
 She felt as though her heart would burst, and 
 insensibility kindly came to her relief. When 
 the dew fell Mrs. Argyle went to help her into the 
 house, and found an inanimate form. Then con- 
 sternation and dread filled the house at Primrose 
 Bank.
 
 MR. DEAN HEARS KATIE'S STORY. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MR. DEAN HEARS KATIE'S STORY. 
 
 " Though much is taken, much abides ; and tho' 
 We have not now that strength which in old days 
 Moved earth and heaven ; that which we are, we are ; 
 
 * * # * # * 
 
 To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." 
 
 UNT EUNICE hurried down the path 
 and along the dusty road to ward home. 
 She forgot to hold up her skirts as she 
 walked through the grass, and over the 
 hard-trodden path at the roadside where the little 
 white daisies grew thickly in the sand, and the 
 wee rust-colored butterflies alighted and dodged 
 and fluttered by the score. What a strange 
 tumult raged in her breast ; mingled hope, fear, 
 scorn, and a dreadful feeling of mystery hanging 
 over all. A telegraph messenger met her with a 
 fateful yellow envelope. She tore it open and 
 read, " Will be home to-morrow. R. Dean." 
 
 She must wait another whole day in suspense, 
 and the girl who called herself Katie Sharon
 
 292 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 would be iii suspense too. She could not have 
 it so. Then, to the boy, " Take your pencil and 
 write on the back of that telegram, for my hand 
 is too shaky to-day, ' Come as quickly as possible. 
 News of Katie Sharon ; ' and see that it goes at 
 once." The boy did as directed and the message 
 was soon speeding over the wires. When the 
 midnight express came in, Reginald Dean was on 
 board. Pale with excitement, cold with anxiety, 
 he hurried home. Aunt Eunice was up and wait- 
 ing for him, and in a few moments told him 
 what she could. The hours until daybreak 
 seemed interminable, but the cold gray blue of 
 dawn softened under the roseate shafts of light, 
 the morning star grew dim, and the mists in the 
 valley rolled away. 
 
 As soon as practicable after day was ushered in, 
 they bent their steps toward Deacon Argyle's. 
 Mrs. Argyle was surprised to see them and still 
 more so to hear them ask for Miss Sharon. Then 
 the clouds on her face grew darker. " Poor 
 Katie is very sick. She has been in a raging 
 fever ever since she came out of the stupor in 
 which I found her yesterday afternoon. You re- 
 member, Miss Stiles, when you were here she 
 was asleep. Shortly after you left for home I
 
 MR. >AN HEARS KATIE'S STORY. 293 
 
 went to help her into the house and found her 
 on the ground insensible. In her delirium she 
 calls for Mr. Dean, and talks wildly about the 
 children, and alarm number sixty-three. We are 
 at a loss to understand the cause of it." 
 
 " Have you had the doctor ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, he is afraid of brain fever, and 
 says the cause is probably some trouble unknown 
 to us, over which she has been brooding." 
 
 They had entered the house and already were 
 in Katie's room. She tossed uneasily and mur- 
 mured, " Oh, how have I time to save all. The 
 smoke chokes me so." Then she turned again 
 and groped blindly about. Mr. Dean looked 
 eagerly into the scarred face, then turning to Mrs. 
 Argyle, said, " That girl must be brought back 
 to reason at any expense. I believe she holds 
 the key to a terrible fatality which occurred in 
 my family some years ago. We have searched 
 for this woman for years, but had given up all 
 hope of ever seeing her again. We believed her 
 to be dead. You can do us no greater favor 
 than by doing for her all in your power, Mrs. 
 Argyle." 
 
 "I should do that anyway, Mr. Dean. Katie 
 was very much attached to my daughter at
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 school ; and for her sake, as well as Katie's, she 
 will receive the best of care." 
 
 " Would you object to having a trained nurse 
 for her ? " 
 
 " Not in the least. My daughter is now in 
 training at the hospital." 
 
 " I will consult with Doctor Strong and see 
 about sending for her." 
 
 Then he sadly turned away, but one hope still 
 remained. He should be able to learn a little 
 of the fate of the children ; he should know 
 where they were buried, probably, if nothing 
 more. Nellie was sent for and all her skill was 
 put in force conjointly with the doctor's to gain 
 victory over the fever which was raging so fiercely 
 in that weary body. As much anxiety was ex- 
 perienced at Mr. Dean's as at Primrose Bank. 
 Messengers frequently passed back and forth 
 between the houses. One day Mr. Dean went to 
 the door in answer to a ring. It was Nellie who 
 had brought the message, while out for her daily 
 airing. Mr. Dean started as he beheld her face. 
 Where had he seen her before ? She delivered 
 her message and was gone while he was collect- 
 ing his scattered senses. He stepped back into 
 the sitting-room to speak with Aunt Eunice.
 
 MR. DEAN HEARS KATIE'S STORY. 
 
 2 95 
 
 " Did you see that lady ? " 
 
 " Yes, it was Mrs. Argyle's daughter, the nurse. 
 Isn't she a beautiful girl ? " 
 
 " Is she their own daughter ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, for all I know. I'll ask Hester 
 when I see her, and now come to think of it, 
 Hester did say she was adopted." 
 
 " Doesn't she make you think of Ethel in her 
 younger days ? " 
 
 " The resemblance is certainly very striking." 
 
 With careful nursing, and judicious treatment, 
 a day came when the fever subsided, and the 
 poor racked body began to mend ; though it 
 was weeks before she was strong enough to 
 stand an interview with Mr. Dean. Then gently 
 and quietly he sat and listened as she told him 
 the whole story, she living again through those 
 hours, from the moment when she noticed the 
 first smell of smoke, her search for fire, the burst- 
 ing of flames through the beautiful polished 
 floors, her removal of the children to her own 
 home only a few blocks away, and the safe de- 
 posit there of the jewels and box of valuables 
 which always stood in the little escritoire. Over 
 and over again she paused to give vent to the 
 tears which, in her weak condition, lay very near
 
 296 STOKM-SIVEPT. 
 
 the surface. Then she told him of the hiding- 
 place, told him how she had sat for years in that 
 chair, her poor feet resting on that footstool, 
 never dreaming but that her mother had told her 
 the truth ; resting secure in the thought that the 
 children had been restored to their parents while 
 she lay on her couch unconscious for weeks, and 
 still resting in that belief through the years that 
 followed until that memorable night when, under 
 the weird flashing of the northern lights, her 
 mother had made the confession which still re- 
 mained so much of a mystery. 
 
 Then she watched Mr. Dean as he searched 
 for the treasures. She had never had the heart 
 to do so herself. He brought them to light 
 much as one would open along-closed casket to 
 look upon the face of the long-ago dead. There 
 were the papers and jewels, proof positive that 
 this woman was the genuine Katie. Then she 
 produced the bank books, with the interest due 
 on them since a short time before her mother's 
 death. Mr. Dean sat back in his chair, passing 
 his hand over his white forehead, and through 
 the white locks of hair. This was a case such as 
 he had never before heard of ; and to him it 
 seemed that the first thing to do was to search
 
 MR. DEAN HEARS KATIE'S STORY. 297 
 
 through all the orphan asylum records in the 
 country. Then Katie said, " Oh, if I could only 
 hear from Matt ! " 
 
 Mr. Dean jumped from his chair as a great 
 light dawned upon him. " Is Matthew Sharon 
 your brother? " 
 
 " Yes, but I have not seen or heard from him 
 since I was at your house ; excepting as I have 
 told you." 
 
 Katie had inadvertently called him " my 
 brother," all through the narrative. Mr. Dean 
 left the room without another word. He walked 
 out of the house as though treading on air ; on 
 and on- he went straight toward home and out 
 into the barn and garden to find Matt. When he 
 stood before him his first question was, " Matt, 
 have you a sister?" Mr. Dean's face was 
 strangely white and his voice strangely hol- 
 low. 
 
 Matt slowly shook his head, " Not that I re- 
 member, Mr. Dean." " Think again, Matt. Try 
 very hard to remember your sister Katie." Matt 
 put his hand to his head, and racked his brain, 
 but the old memory could not be aroused. 
 
 " Do you remember the children ? " 
 
 Matt started as though an electric shock had
 
 298 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 passed through him ; his face lighted up, he 
 was about to speak. " Yes, I remember," then 
 his face clouded over, the vision on memory's 
 walls had vanished, and the past was as blank as 
 before. 
 
 " My head," said Matt, " Oh, it won't let me 
 think. There was something, but it has all 
 gone, all gone ! " and he turned to his work 
 again. 
 
 " The cruel fates are against me ; " and Re- 
 ginald Dean turned away. A carriage-load of 
 young people was coming down the road. What 
 caused them to start a song as they approached 
 Rose Cliff, and why was the song which floated 
 to Reginald Dean's ears the sweetly sad refrain 
 of " Home, Sweet Home?" He turned back to 
 Matt. The song had awakened memories by the 
 score. This mystery must be unfathomed, he 
 must probe still deeper. " Come, Matt, with me." 
 Matt obeyed. " Go, man, to your room, shave, 
 put on your best clothes and make yourself look 
 as young as possible. Report to me as soon as 
 you are ready. I will await you in the study." 
 
 Matt wondered what was in the air. Some- 
 thing unusual, surely. Mr. Dean impatiently 
 walked the floor, the moments seeming hours.
 
 MR. DEAlf HEARS KA TIE"S STOR Y. 299 
 
 They both reached the deacon's before Mr. Dean 
 had thought of the danger which such a step 
 might cause to Katie. He first saw Mrs. Argyle 
 and Nellie, briefly stating his hope that Matt was 
 Katie's brother. He would try and break the 
 knowledge of his presence as gently as possible. 
 Mrs. Argyle and Nellie had all sorts of surmises 
 as to Mr. Dean's visits and interviews, but had 
 refrained from asking any questions. This was 
 to them a partial solution*, but what could it have 
 to do with this past trouble of Mr. Dean's? 
 Perhaps they should learn in time. At any rate 
 they would keep quiet about it; for, as Mrs. 
 Argyle said, " A still tongue makes a wise head." 
 Mr. Dean was a lawyer, and law was queer busi- 
 ness, and it was no more strange that he should 
 find a clue to a case among their friends than 
 among other people ; though of course it was a 
 little exciting, after all. But he kept his own 
 counsel. 
 
 Katie had never spoken of her brother, and 
 no one ever thought of Matt, as any one but 
 Matt. He was known by that name to all the 
 villagers, and it is doubtful if half a dozen people 
 knew he had a surname. 
 
 Mr. Dean entered Katie's room quietly and
 
 306 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 alone. She sat just where he had left her, a 
 short time before. She seemed surprised to see 
 him return so quickly, and her eyes sought his 
 face as though she would read there the reason 
 for this interview. He seated himself beside 
 her and, in a calm soothing tone, addressed her. 
 " Katie, I once knew a man who was a sailor. 
 His name was Matthew Sharon. He was hurt 
 on his last voyage by a falling spar, and the blow 
 on his head impaired his-memory. It is possible 
 that he is your brother. Could you bear it to see 
 him soon? He is at present in my employ, and 
 I could bring him here to see you in a few mo- 
 ments, in fact, now, if you so desire." 
 
 '' Bring him to me." 
 
 Then Mr. Dean opened the door and admitted 
 Matt. They studied each other's faces closely. 
 "It is I, Matt. Don't you know sister Katie? 
 Am I so scarred, then, that you do not know 
 me ? " She looked pleadingly into the man's face. 
 He did not appear to recognize her. 
 
 " Oh, Matt, it is you, I know. What did you 
 do with the children ? " 
 
 Again that light in his face. " Oh, yes, I 
 remember ; " and then that vacant, distressed 
 look, and the hand passed over his brow. Then,
 
 MR. DEAN HEARS KA TIE'S STOR Y. 301 
 
 " It's no use, I can't think ; " and he looked 
 helplessly at Mr. Dean. 
 
 " Katie, are you' sure this is your brother? " 
 
 " It is my brother Matt, but what can we do? 
 He cannot tell us anything ; " and poor Katie 
 wept bitter tears. 
 
 " Perhaps he will be able to in time. It may 
 come to him. Don't cry, child, I am sure you 
 have done what you could." 
 
 And this from Mr. Dean. How kindly he was 
 dealing with her, and she had so dreaded an in- 
 terview with him. But Mr. Dean would not be 
 thwarted in this manner. He had had cases be- 
 fore this, where apparently impregnable barriers 
 had arisen before him, and he had hewn them 
 down ; and in this case he would not be non- 
 plussed. Though a mystery of mysteries, it must 
 be solved. Far into the night Reginald Dean sat 
 and thought, racking his brain. The next day 
 passed in like manner, walking the floor, sitting 
 with his head in his hands, or with his eyes closed 
 as he sat thinking ; thinking, always thinking on 
 this question of vital importance, and not a word 
 of it breathed indoors for fear Mrs. Dean might hear. 
 
 The next afternoon as Aunt Eunice and Mrs. 
 Dean sat out in the summer-house, enjoying as
 
 302 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 much as they could of the beautiful summer sun- 
 shine falling in flecks through the lattice and be- 
 tween the sprays of trumpet-creeper that twined 
 and climbed about the sides and roof of the cosy 
 little place, she picked up one of the latest maga- 
 zines and then cut the leaves with her scissors. 
 Reginald had been so busy he had neglected to 
 perform this little act in which he always took so 
 much pleasure. As her glance rested on the 
 page, she read, " Some Late Wonderful Medical 
 Achievements." She read on. Then she glanced 
 over the top of her book at Mrs. Dean, who was 
 sleeping and resting comfortably. 
 
 Aunt Eunice arose slowly and walked softly 
 toward the house, the book at her side and her 
 finger between the pages. She stepped to the 
 study door and rapped. 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 She entered, opened the book before Mr. Dean 
 and placed her finger on the title of the article 
 she had been reading ; then went back to her 
 charge in the summer-house. Reginald read the 
 article through, arose, put on his hat, and with 
 the book in his hand, turned toward Dr. Strong's, 
 saying to himself as he did so, " Trust a woman 
 for common sense."
 
 THE MYSTER Y UNKA VEL LE D. 3 03 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 
 
 ' In the high wet grass went the path to hide, 
 And the low wet leaves hung over ; 
 But I could not pass upon either side, 
 For I found myself, when I vainly tried, 
 In the arms of my steadfast lover ; 
 And he held me there, and he raised my head, 
 While he closed the path before me ; 
 And he looked down into my eyes and said, 
 How the leaves bent down from the boughs o'erhead, 
 To listen to what my lover said ! 
 Oh, the leaves hanging lowly o'er me ! " 
 
 LOWLY the moon rose behind the leafy 
 branches of the maples and birches, 
 casting its shimmering gleams over the 
 dew-laden grass. The scent of mign- 
 onette, honeysuckle, and other summer blos- 
 soms, blended with the odor of new-mown hay, 
 lifted one on wings of air over and above the 
 things of earth, plain commonplaces of every-day 
 life. Down the broad avenue, under those low 
 branching trees, before them the rising moon,
 
 304 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 around them the scent of summer flowers all the 
 more subtle in the uncertain glow of evening, 
 moved two forms slowly and thoughtfully. It 
 had been a day of anxiety, a day on whose mo- 
 ments hung weal or woe ; hope or despair, for 
 several people. 
 
 Arm in arm, keeping step to the chirping of the 
 crickets and the katydids, now under the shadow, 
 and again in the full gleam of the moonlight 
 slanting from a halo of brown-tinted clouds, a 
 bright and beautiful portal widening and widen- 
 ing until earth-dwellers seemed to stand upon the 
 threshold of the moon world. Such a calm and 
 stillness pervaded the atmosphere that one's heart 
 seemed almost to cease beating; such a holy 
 sense of rest, as of one being lifted heavenward, 
 and the passing of the day, had led these two 
 into this state of hallowed expectancy. They 
 were both waiting for something about to happen, 
 and that sense of nearness which steals over one 
 at such moments seemed pervading the air, caus- 
 ing one to wish that those moments might be 
 lengthened into hours ; for back of all the hope 
 was a half dread that the something whispered of 
 by the night breezes, might not be just what one 
 most hoped for after all. They had reached Rose
 
 THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 305 
 
 Cliff, this pair who had been walking silently in 
 the moonlight. As they approached the porch, 
 Doctor Ralph said, " I hear Mrs. Delamere has 
 arrived with her little girl." It seemed as though 
 Nellie's heart ceased beating for the moment, 
 then she said, in as calm a voice as she could com- 
 mand, " Yes, she will make us quite a visit, I 
 hope." 
 
 " Nellie, why did you not tell ~me ? " 
 
 Ralph raised her face toward his own, and the 
 moonlight shone full upon it now, as he held one 
 hand over each blushing cheek and rosy ear. 
 
 She did. not speak, but the full lips quivered, 
 and the gray eyes had in them a suspicious 
 sparkle. 
 
 " Dear heart, I may speak now, may I not ; now 
 that I know there is no barrier ? " 
 
 Not a word yet passed those quivering lips. 
 
 " Why must I plead ? Nellie, God knows I 
 love you ; knows I have loved you for years. Has 
 not your own heart told you the same long ago ? " 
 
 He had released the face when the shining 
 tears one by one rolled down on to his hands ; 
 and passing his arm about her drew her to him, 
 and raising one throbbing little hand to his lips 
 held it there. 
 
 20
 
 306 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Did she imagine that one hot tear fell upon it ? 
 She did not draw it away. She was content, aye, 
 content to rest there in his arms without saying 
 one word or answering one of the pleading ques- 
 tions which he was asking her. Then, loosening 
 his hold on the little hand, he again turned the 
 curly head resting on his shoulder so that he could 
 look into her face. " Nellie, I must have an an- 
 swer. You lead me to hope. Tell me, darling, 
 will you be my love, my life ? " He placed his lips 
 upon hers, and in the responding kiss received his 
 answer. Then both doctor and nurse came back 
 to earth. 
 
 " My time must certainly be up, Ralph ; and 
 Aunt Eunice will be expecting me on duty." 
 
 He took out his watch. "Oh, you have ten 
 minutes more, don't go yet. Matt is resting 
 confortably, I know, and this happiness has been 
 too long deferred for me to let you go so soon." 
 
 The ten minutes passed quickly, and Nellie, 
 with a very rosy face, tore herself from his em- 
 brace and went back to her post of duty. By 
 the time she had smoothed out her hair, and 
 donned her uniform, sober, sedate Doctor Ralph 
 was entering the sick room. The patient was 
 doing nicely; fully as well as could be expected.
 
 THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 307 
 
 If the operation which had been performed that 
 day were only successful, how happy it would 
 make Mr. Dean ! How Nellie wondered what 
 mystery it was which was wrapped up in that 
 poor dented brain which the doctors had that 
 day tried to help back to its normal condition. 
 Mrs. Dean had been invited over to Mrs. Cooper's 
 for a few days. Hester's quick outspoken manner, 
 with its hearty impulsiveness, had won Mrs. 
 Dean for a friend ; and she was perfectly satisfied 
 to go there for a few days, just for a change, she 
 said ; and so the operation had been performed 
 at Mr. Dean's, and with Nellie and Aunt Eunice 
 for nurses, and two doctors to regularly attend 
 the case, they hoped for the best. 
 
 How Nellie did long to fly home sometimes, to 
 spend the day with Olga and the little Alma; but 
 it was duty first, and an hour now and then was 
 all she could spend at home. Alma was a very 
 forward child and had learned to walk quite early. 
 Scotch oatmeal had helped make a sturdy little 
 body for her, and the air at Primrose Bank pre- 
 cisely agreed with her. Grandma Argyle, as she 
 called herself to the baby, had made Alma a large 
 rag doll with wonderful hair composed of a piece 
 of black astrachan. Its face was of pink surah
 
 308 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 silk, while old kid gloves covered the arms and 
 formed hip-leggins, for the wonderful McGinty, 
 which Alma insisted upon calling the baby. 
 Deacon Argyle laughed till he shook off his 
 glasses to see the child cut up her pranks with 
 the doll. She was so old-fashioned, they all said. 
 
 Now it happened that Doctor Strong had a dog 
 whose name was Bruno; and, unfortunately, Bruno 
 had a weakness for dolls. More than one child 
 in the village mourned the loss of a doll which 
 Bruno had taken a fancy to, and carried off. 
 
 It was a few days after the operation. Nellie 
 was on duty in the sick room at Mr. Dean's ; and 
 Aunt Eunice was taking a comfortable nap, in 
 her own room. At Primrose Bank everything 
 was as quiet and restful as possible on this late 
 summer afternoon. Olga was busy with her 
 painting in the little sewing alcove which opened 
 off from the sitting-room where Alma was playing 
 with McGinty. Olga became very much engrossed 
 with her work. She was putting the finishing 
 touches to the portrait on which she was at woik 
 when she last saw Clyde. She was living over 
 those unhappy moments as she worked ; and her 
 mind was across the ocean. Baby Alma took 
 advantage of the quiet. She walked out onto the
 
 THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 309 
 
 west door-stone and sat there for a time. Then 
 she ventured down to the gate. Old Doctor 
 Strong was on horseback riding leisurely along 
 some distance up the road. Bruno came dashing 
 down the street ahead of him. Alma had depo- 
 sited McGinty at the base of one of the maple 
 trees that stood just outside the gate at the foot 
 of the primrose slope ; and the child was busy 
 picking the blue asters which grew along the 
 edge of the sidewalk. Bruno saw his opportunity, 
 and, seizing the doll, was off down the street and 
 over the meadow with McGinty's red dress show- 
 ing at every spring he made. Alma travelled 
 after him as fast as her little feet could carry her. 
 Bruno ran through the brook which crossed the 
 road. Would the child take to the bridge, or 
 attempt to cross as the dog had done ? The little 
 one saw no danger, and was soon trying to ford 
 the brook ; but the water was deep, her little 
 foot slipped, and she fell face down in the pool. 
 The Doctor had not yet turned the bend in the 
 road, for he was so deep in a brown study that 
 he had seen nothing of what was passing ; but a 
 rescuer was at hand. Crossing the meadow was 
 a woman, and she saw the little one fall. Her feet 
 seemed to turn to wings, for she was at the brook-
 
 3 1 o STOA'Uf-S WEPT. 
 
 side almost as soon as the child fell. As the 
 doctor came in sight he saw the woman emerge 
 from the brook with the child in her arms. What 
 was his surprise to behold Mrs. Dean. Before 
 he could speak she held up one cautioning finger. 
 " Sh ! It is my little Angie." 
 
 " Whom ? " said the doctor in astonishment. 
 
 " Why, my little Angie, who was lost long ago." 
 
 The doctor knew she was to be humored, so he 
 said, " Indeed, I am very glad you have found 
 her. How did it happen ? " 
 
 " I think the dog took her doll and she 
 followed him through the brook. He passed by 
 me dripping, with the doll in his mouth." 
 
 The child was crying now, and calling "Mamma." 
 
 " I am mamma, Angie, don't you know 
 mamma? " 
 
 But the child said, " I want my own mamma 
 at Grandma Argyle's." 
 
 With a little coaxing, the doctor persuaded 
 Mrs. Dean to walk back to Mrs. Argyle's, where 
 they had only just missed the child, and were 
 about to search for her. Olga was coming down 
 the path as they reached the gate. She held out 
 her arms to take the child, but the doctor's quick 
 glance caught her eye.
 
 THE MYSTER Y UNRA FELLED. 3 1 1 
 
 " Mrs. Dean, this is Mrs. Delamere. Let us go 
 in for a few moments. Perhaps they can let us 
 have some dry garments for the child." Mrs. 
 Dean entered the house, but would not let the 
 little one be taken from her. 
 
 " Please excuse me, Mrs. Delamere ; but this is 
 my little girl whom I lost some time ago. I have 
 been looking for her for years, and just found 
 her in the brook where she had fallen. My own 
 little Angie." 
 
 Mrs. Dean seemed perfectly sane in her actions. 
 She looked from Olga to the doctor, and again 
 to Mrs. Argyle, with such a contented, peaceful 
 expression, that it seemed wicked to dispel the 
 illusion. 
 
 " Make Mrs. Dean as comfortable as you can, 
 please. She went into the brook after the baby, 
 and her feet must be soaking wet. I will ride 
 around Mrs. Cooper's way, and get her to stay 
 with Matt while I send Nellie over ; and after a 
 little we'll try and get Mrs. Dean home." 
 
 As the doctor turned about, his eyes fell on 
 the picture which stood on the easel in the 
 alcove. He started, and looked wonderingly 
 from Olga to Mrs. Argyle. 
 
 " Pardon me, but whose work is that ? "
 
 312 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Oh, it is a face which has always impressed 
 me, and I concluded to put it on canvas, and 
 see if I could get rid of it. Is it not a striking 
 face?" 
 
 " It certainly is. I had heard you were an 
 artist, and now I believe it. Well, I must hurry 
 on or some one will be very much alarmed," and 
 off he cantered, saying to himself as he rode 
 along, " Can it be possible ? yet truth is some- 
 times stranger than fiction." 
 
 He paused at Mrs. Cooper's a moment on the 
 way, and said, " Don't worry about your charge, 
 Mrs. Cooper. She is safe at Mrs. Argyle's." 
 
 "Do you mean Mrs. Dean? She is taking a 
 nap." 
 
 " Well, not if I am in my right mind, for she 
 just picked Mrs. Delamere's little girl out of the 
 brook as I came along : and I have only a few 
 moments ago left her at the deacon's." 
 
 Hester held up both hands and gasped, " For 
 the land sakes ! " 
 
 Doctor Strong left her wondering and rode on 
 to Mr. Dean's. He hitched his horse at the gate, 
 and walked unbidden into the house. He gave 
 one rap at the study-door and entered the room. 
 Mr. Dean was there. The doctor sat down and
 
 THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 313 
 
 waited a moment in silence. It was not his 
 custom to come in so quietly. 
 
 " What is the matter, Doctor? " 
 
 " I don't know whether anything is the matter 
 or not." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Your wife thinks she has found her little 
 Angie." 
 
 Mr. Dean started to his feet. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I mean just this. Mrs. Dean, not half an 
 hour ago, fished Mrs. Delamere's little girl out of 
 the brook, and insists that the child is hers. She 
 won't even let the mother take it, and the child 
 after the first fright was over, seems contented to 
 let her cuddle her. There is a picture at Mrs. 
 Argyle's I want you to see, too. Get your car- 
 riage and drive over. Mrs. Cooper, for all I 
 know, is standing at the post-office door, wonder- 
 ing how Mrs. Dean got away without her know- 
 ing it." 
 
 " That is very strange ; Ethel always looks 
 closely at all the children she meets, but never 
 has taken one in her arms before." 
 
 "Well, I don't know anything about your 
 trouble, whatever it is that you are trying to get
 
 314 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 at the bottom of, but your wife certainly thinks 
 that child is her own ; and she looks and acts per- 
 fectly sane. It would do your heart good to see 
 her mother the child." 
 
 " Who is this Mrs. Delamere ? " 
 t " She was Olga Mitchell, the daughter of a 
 minister who was here for several years. She 
 and Nellie Argyle were boon companions." 
 
 " Is Nellie Argyle the own child of the deacon 
 and his wife ? " 
 
 " No, she was adopted some eighteen years ago 
 or more, I should say." 
 
 " Where was she gotten ? " 
 
 " From the Faith Orphan Asylum in N 
 H ." 
 
 " Guess we'd better take Aunt Eunice along 
 with us. She can coax Ethel when no one else 
 can." 
 
 Mrs. Dean looked up with a happy smile when 
 her husband entered the room. 
 
 " Oh, Rex, I have found Angie and I am so 
 happy. You may give her one kiss, but don't 
 take her from me. I cannot bear it yet." 
 
 He stood looking at the child. The great 
 tears rolled down his face, and he did not try to 
 hide them.
 
 THE MYS TER Y UNRA VELLED. 3 1 5 
 
 " Thank God, the mystery will soon be solved. 
 If I did not realize that years had passed, I too 
 should say, ' It is my little Angie.' " 
 
 ''Yes, papa." 
 
 There was a hush like that of death. Mr. Dean 
 looked around the room. "Who spoke? or did 
 I imagine I heard a voice ? " 
 
 The speaker was revealed in the confused and 
 blushing face of Mrs. Delamere. 
 
 " Pardon me, Mr. Dean, but I do not know 
 what impelled me to speak. I could not help it, 
 for your assertion seemed directed to me. I 
 never saw you before, but is not this very much 
 like you." 
 
 Olga brought the portrait within view of all in 
 the room. At that moment some one came along 
 the garden path. It was Nellie, who had cut 
 across through the meadow, and now in through 
 the open window floated the words she was 
 singing, 
 
 " Mid pleasures and palaces though I may roam, 
 Be it ever so humble there's no place like home." 
 
 In another moment she stood in the doorway. 
 What was the meaning of this congregation of 
 people ? She looked wonderingly from one to
 
 316 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the other. Then her eyes rested on the portrait, 
 and again sought Mr. Dean's face. 
 
 "Whose picture is it, Nellie?" 
 
 " Why, Mr. Dean's, of course ; only his hair is 
 gray, and you have painted it brown." 
 
 " We were all thinking there was a striking 
 resemblance." 
 
 " Mr. Dean turned to Olga. 
 
 " Who was your father ? " 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 "I understood you were Dr. Mitchell's daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 " So did I until I was married ; and then they 
 told me that in 18 they adopted me from the 
 Faith Orphan Asylum in N H ." 
 
 Deacon Argyle stepped to the secretary and 
 opened a small drawer. He drew therefrom an 
 old red wallet, and, unrolling it, took out a piece 
 of yellow paper and handed it to Mr. Dean. His 
 hands shook as though with the palsy. 
 
 " She has never known it, Mr. Dean ; but I 
 shall have to make a clean breast of it now. If 
 you've lost one daughter I guess you've lost two ; 
 for our Nellie is own sister to Olga accordin* to 
 this." 
 
 Through eager eyes Mr. Dean read the adoption
 
 THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 
 
 3 1 7 
 
 , rtnd \n it was the statement that the older 
 s>f the two .children who had been found on the 
 asylum steps an such a day, had been adopted by 
 Robert A. Mitchell, but he wished the girls never 
 to know they weie related ; and that was Deacon 
 Argyle's secret, gua/ded even from his wife. 
 
 " We are sisters, theii, as Marie said ; " the girls 
 spoke in one breath. 
 
 Mrs. Argyle had been gone from the room for 
 a moment. She returned with a small parcel, 
 and, unrolling it, laid on the table before them 
 several tiny garments. Aunt Eunice came for- 
 ward and undertook to examine them, but the 
 tears made her eyeglasses so misty that yhe could 
 hardly see. She picked up the little shirt and 
 handed it to Nellie. 
 
 " If I made it, there is a small E. D. in white 
 silk on the point under the shoulder button." 
 Nellie turned the point over and walked around 
 the room showing the letters to every one there 
 
 " That stands for Evelyn Dean, and you arc 
 she." 
 
 Nellie's breast rose and fell as the great sob\ 
 strove for mastery ; and then the two girls 
 wrapped in each other's arms, wept out their joy. 
 
 " Now we have two mothers and two fathers,
 
 318 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 are \ve not rich ? " And they both bent over 
 Mrs. Dean, kissing now her happy face, and again 
 that of little Alma. 
 
 "You shall be Angie after this, my darling," 
 said Olga; " for you are the angel who brought us 
 our own mother and father." 
 
 ." Then Nellie went back to Mrs. Argyle. 
 
 "I shall not love you any less, mother." 
 
 "Oh, but you will be leaving us." 
 
 Then, blushing and whispering, Nellie said, " I 
 should have to leave you soon anyway, for Ralph 
 wants me so much ; " and Mrs. Argyle's kiss was 
 a benediction itself, then her answer, " I am more 
 than satisfied." 
 
 But time waits for no one, and the night was 
 drawing on. Mrs. Dean would stay with the baby 
 and Olga ; while Nellie went back to her post, 
 not only as nurse, but as daughter of the house. 
 Heaven had been more kind to her after all. As 
 the days passed Matt grew stronger, and one day 
 was able to walk down to the study to see Mr. 
 Dean. 
 
 " I have come to tell you I can remember about 
 those children now. I took them to the Faith 
 
 Orphan Asylum in N H on the th of 
 
 April, 1 8 ,"
 
 THE MYS TEK Y UNRA FELL ED. 3 1 9 
 
 " You are right, Matt, and the children are all 
 right, too. Katie is as happy as a lark ; and Doc- 
 tor Strong is going to see if he can do as much 
 for Katie's feet as he has for your brain. Now, 
 don't worry yourself at all about anything, but 
 try and get well as fast as you can." 
 
 And Mr. Dean would not let him talk about it 
 at ali. He did send to the hospital for another 
 nurse, for he insisted that Nellie was all tired out 
 and needed rest ; though she assured him she 
 was not at all tired, but the doctor seconded Mr. 
 Dean's motion, and she had to obey.
 
 3 20 
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ALL THINGS COMES TO HIM WHO PATIENT 
 
 WAITS. 
 
 " But the speed was high, and the danger nigh ; 
 And Death was waiting to build his pyre." 
 
 ONALD, if you do not bring the baby 
 to me to-day I shall undertake to go 
 and get her myself. Understand, I 
 shall put up with this nonsense no 
 longer. It will do me good to see her, I know. 
 I am consumed with ennui, and must have some 
 diversion." The speaker leaned back in his easy 
 chair and puffed away at a cigar. One leg was still 
 bandaged with splints, and it was a vain threat 
 that he would go down the rocky road to Don- 
 ald's cottage after the child. 
 
 "Aweel, my laird, you cannot see the bairn." 
 " Cannot see the child ? Upon my word that 
 js cool ! "
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 321 
 
 " I speak the truth, my lord." 
 
 Sir Albany sat as near bolt upright as he could. 
 " What do you mean, man ? You have kept 
 putting off bringing Alma to me because the doc- 
 tor said I must not be disturbed or worried in the 
 least, and now you have the audacity to tell me 
 to my face that I cannot see the child ; Ha ! but 
 that is too much." 
 
 " I may as weel tell it ye, Sir Albany. The 
 mither cam' an' took awa' the bairn while ye 
 were nearer dead than alive." 
 
 " Took the child ! Away, do you mean ? " 
 
 " Aye, sir, took it away to America. There, 
 I've gone and made a fool of myself, tellin' ye; " 
 and Donald reached Sir Albany in time to keep 
 him from falling from his chair. He had tried to 
 arise and had sunken in a faint, whether from 
 alarm or pain, Donald did not know. 
 
 After a time Clyde regained consciousness, and 
 his rage was unbounded when he learned the 
 child was in reality gone beyond his call. 
 
 " Well, you have played a pretty trick on me ; 
 I wouldn't have had it happen for every paltry 
 dollar in this old rookery. Taken my child, and 
 gone to America ! By Heaven, but I'll have her 
 yet ! "
 
 3 22 
 
 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 " Your wife cam' to see you while you were 
 ill." 
 
 " She did ? And why did she not see me ?" 
 
 " I dinna ken. She was in this house, aye, in 
 the next room, and I think she heard you say you 
 didn't want to see her ; so she went away." 
 
 " She was quite right to do so; but she had 
 no business to take the child." 
 
 " Tut, tut, sir ! it was as muckle her bairn as 
 yours." 
 
 " I say she had no right to take it, and have it 
 I will or die in the attempt." 
 
 The old dragon-blood was again thoroughly 
 aroused, and this was the man who could be 
 angelic at times, but when anything crossed his 
 path the angel's wings changed into dragon's 
 talons. He was moved by impulses, now as 
 ever, even as we have seen him, over and over 
 again, serving the first command of the sovereign 
 Self, who alone reigned supreme in his nature. 
 
 When he rode in a gondola over the shim- 
 mering waves of the Venetian lagoons; when he 
 thought of her whom he had taken to love and 
 to cherish until death should part them ; the 
 the angel sleeper awakened, bade him hasten 
 back to right the wrong he had done to that
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS, 323 
 
 trusting wife ; but when again, on his return, he 
 found her gone, then the angel folded its wings, 
 and the dark Dragon of Armadale spread its 
 pinions over him, and ruled the creature tossed 
 by the passions of love and hate, those two 
 eternal foes. His very restlessness kept him an 
 invalid longer than he would otherwise have been : 
 but time, the healer, still performed his duty, and 
 once again Sir Albany rode down the mountain- 
 side, and away from the castle of Armadale. As 
 he passed under the portcullis he said to Donald, 
 " I shall come back with my baby Alma, depend 
 upon it, man ; or else you will never again have to 
 draw the bridge for Sir Albany, Baron of Arma- 
 dale." 
 
 Then, like the wind, he rode down the steep 
 pathway. Old Donald turned back to his good 
 wife Jean who stood in the shadow behind him 
 and said, " Aweel, lass, if he goes at that pace 
 from here to America, we have in truth seen the 
 last of him ; " and she answered as she bent her 
 head and clasped her hands, 
 
 " An' the Lord will it, may he never take the 
 bairn fra its mither ! " 
 
 And Donald answered, " Amen ! " 
 
 It was but a few days after when a message
 
 324 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 came to Primrose Bank. Olga received it, and 
 when she read it both she and the cablegram 
 fell to the floor. Mrs. Argyle heard the sound 
 and came running to learn the cause. The yellow 
 paper told the story, " Sir Albany is on his way 
 to take the child. Donald MacDuff." 
 
 Then Mrs. Argyle's common sense stood her in 
 good stead. She dispatched a messenger for Leon 
 Thorpe, and, when he came, she showed him the 
 cablegram. 
 
 " Can you think of what ought to be done ? " 
 
 " He is on his way here." 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 Leon looked at his watch. " The last train 
 leaves at 6 : 52 and it is after five now. I shall 
 have time to consult with no one. I can do 
 nothing but shadow him and see that he does not 
 abduct the child. Keep close watch of the baby, 
 and for Heaven's sake impart your courage to 
 Olga." 
 
 They clasped hands. " I wish you God-speed ; " 
 and the 6: 52 carried Leon Thorpe on his mis- 
 sion. 
 
 It was he who stood on the dock as the great 
 steamships were unburdened of their human 
 freight. Should he know Clyde Delamere after
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 325 
 
 this lapse of years ? And who should question 
 whether that face were not indelibly stamped on 
 his mind ; the face of the man who had blighted 
 his life. Leon Thorpe missed not a steamer. 
 Patiently he stood until the last wave of the sea 
 of upturned faces had surged over the docks. 
 There were no other steamers due for two days, 
 and still the object of his search had not been 
 discovered. He might take a run home, and see 
 how Olga was. Dear heart, what a pity she 
 should be so troubled ! It was a wild night, this 
 one on which Leon Thorpe turned his steps home- 
 ward. He could not have stayed in the city for 
 any possible reason. He was seized with a wild 
 and burning desire to go home, to go to Mrs. 
 Argyle's and assure himself that Olga and Alma 
 were safe and well. So he went. How the storm 
 beat, and how the wind howled and shrieked, as 
 the train sped over the almost submerged tracks ; 
 then again out over slippery trestles, where it 
 seemed that the storm-fiend would wrench the 
 heavy train from the track ; rattling, shrieking, 
 moaning, oh, what sounds went through the 
 ears of the passengers, as though all the fiends of 
 the air were engaged in their wild orgies. 
 
 Still on sped the train. Whether the wires
 
 326 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 were down nobody knew, only this. Leon 
 stepped to the door to see if he could tell about 
 where they were, for the time seemed intermi- 
 nable since they had made a stop at a station. As 
 he stood on the platform, and through the inky 
 blackness saw the distant gleaming of city lights, 
 he felt a lurch, quick as thought looked back into 
 the car and Merciful Heavens ! it was being 
 telescoped by the tender. Then Leon knew no 
 more. 
 
 One morning when he awoke, it was to find 
 himself being tenderly watched over by a uni- 
 formed nurse. He had to stop and think things 
 over a little, but the last thing he remembered 
 was seeing the tender crashing through the car 
 directly toward him. He attempted to raise his 
 right arm t'o hide the sight. It was not there to 
 raise. Then he said to the nurse, " Did I lose 
 it in the accident? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Am I hurt very much otherwise ? " 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 "Oh, but I should have been home to-day! 
 Poor little Olga." 
 
 " Were you in company with some one? " 
 
 "No!"
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 
 
 327 
 
 " Have you friends you would like to have 
 know you are here?" 
 
 " Does no one know, then ? " 
 
 " You have been here nearly a week. There 
 was nothing on your clothing to tell your name 
 or address." 
 
 " I don't know whether it is best to tell them or 
 not." 
 
 "You are getting along very nicely no-v. 
 Suppose you give me your name, and then it will 
 be time for the medicine again." 
 
 Leon did so, and was soon sleeping under t!.e 
 influence of the narcotic. A nurse came wulki: g 
 down the aisle between the beds. 
 
 " Nellie Argyle ! " 
 
 "Yes, I am back on duty today, and am sen' 
 to relieve you.'" 
 
 " Here is a poor fellow who has just rer 
 consciousness enough to give his name. I. 
 a victim of the wreck. He comes from i. 
 same place you do, Westbridge, and his nan;. 
 is Leon Thorpe." 
 
 Nellie caught at the iron foot-rail of the bed. 
 
 "Why, I thought he was in the city. No < !i 
 at home knows it." 
 
 "For the very reason the man was amo..
 
 328 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 the seriously injured, and has just been allowed 
 to come out from under the influence. He has 
 lost an arm." 
 
 " Poor Leon ! " And Nellie took her place 
 beside the sleeper. 
 
 She studied the record, and looked to see that 
 everything was as it should be. Then she made 
 the round of the ward in charge. One sleeper 
 was much injured. The record showed a very 
 high temperature, and the head was bandaged, 
 while a bag of ice lay over the feverish brain. 
 
 " This poor fellow," said the nurse who was 
 just leaving Nellie in charge, " I haven't much 
 hopes of. He was hurt internally. His fever 
 runs quite high, you see. We don't know what to 
 do about him." 
 
 " What is his name ? " 
 
 " Nobody knows anything about him only that 
 he had a very odd ring on his finger." 
 
 Such a lump rose in Nellie's throat she could 
 not speak for an instant. Then she choked it 
 back. " Where is it, the ring, I mean ? " 
 
 " At the office." 
 
 " Will you stay here a moment, please ?" 
 
 And, without waiting for an answer, Nellie 
 was off in a second. She returned in a very
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 329 
 
 short space of time. " I could hardly believe 
 my eyes, but I know now it is true. This is Sir 
 Albany, Baron of Armadale. His wife is visit- 
 ing at our house, and he was coming there this 
 month." 
 
 " Isn't it strange you should find two here 
 whom you know ?" 
 
 " Yes, I described the ring exactly, and there 
 isn't a doubt but that this is my friend." 
 
 " He speaks of Olga in his delirium, but seems 
 to think he has some one near him by the 
 name of Alma, but he cannot quite reach 
 her." 
 
 " Alma is his little girl ; and Olga is his wife. 
 They have telegraphed for her already." 
 
 " If she don't come soon, she won't find him 
 alive. He has been like this ever since he 
 came." 
 
 Then Nellie was left with her patients. 
 
 How much stranger than fiction is real life ! 
 Here before her lay the man to whom she had 
 once plighted her troth ; yet not one fibre of her 
 being vibrated to the word love. How she pitied 
 him, no one could know ; she would have done 
 anything to make his suffering less ; anything to 
 bring him back to health and happiness ; for she
 
 330 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 felt but that for misunderstandings he and Olga 
 should have been happy now ; but had it not been 
 for those same misunderstandings she herself 
 might not yet have known the joys of kinship ; 
 might not yet have found that sister whom she 
 had known in spirit but not in name. 
 
 Ah, well ! messages are transported by light- 
 ning, and people travel by steam ; so it did not 
 take many hours for Olga to be on her way, and 
 she would take the baby with her ; for, if Clyde 
 was dying, it was no more than right that he 
 should see the child. What misgivings, and ifs, 
 and might-be's crowded into her already worried 
 brain, none but God knew ; and when she reached 
 the hospital and looked upon those unconscious 
 features, she would have given her own life if it 
 could have been the means of saving the father of 
 her child. There, by that sick bed, she forgot 
 all the unkindness, all the hasty words, forgot 
 even that this very journey was to rob her of the 
 little Alma ; and kneeling by that bedside, she 
 prayed that if the Lord saw fit to save him, he 
 might take her, or even the little Alma if only 
 Clyde might be spared. And as she knelt there 
 his dark eyes opened with the light of con- 
 sciousness in them, and Olga's tears rained fast
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 331 
 
 upon the cold hand. He looked at Nellie who 
 stood beside him in her nurse's garb. Then his 
 eyes wandered to Olga still kneeling, and then 
 to the little Alma, who was held in the other 
 nurse's arms. 
 
 " Let him kiss the baby good-bye and then take 
 her away." 
 
 When she was gone he turned his gaze upon 
 Nellie. His lips moved but no sound came. She 
 bent her head to listen. He was whispering, 
 " Forgive me if I spoiled your life. I was not 
 good enough for you." 
 
 " I forgave you long ago, for a greater hap- 
 piness came to me." 
 
 " I am glad for that. Tell Olga," she stepped 
 aside and Olga's ear was bent low to catch the 
 whisper, " I was wrong ; I have my punish- 
 ment." 
 
 " Don't, Clyde, you break my heart ; I would 
 die for you if I could. I will give my life's 
 blood for you now if it will save you." 
 
 " No, Olga, it is too late, too late ! It grows 
 mi'ty, I cannot see you. Leon Thorpe loves 
 yon. Let him care for you. He will be more 
 kind to you than I have been, for I was cursed 
 cursed by the Dragon of Armadale ! "
 
 332 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 We draw the curtain over the struggle. None 
 who heard it, will ever forget the wail of anguish 
 that rang through the room, as the whisper rose 
 to a wild despairing cry. It roused the other 
 sleeper, and Nellie led Olga away from the scene 
 of trial ; past the white beds of the ward till she 
 came to Leon's couch. 
 
 " Clyde gave you to Leon. See, he lives !" 
 
 And the sleeper awakened, rested his eyes on 
 Olga, and dreamed again. 
 
 Olga was under the doctor's care then for a 
 time. Her nerves had been at such a high tension 
 they gave out entirely, but she was where she re- 
 ceived the best of care ; and when Leon Thorpe 
 was well enough to go home, Nellie went too with 
 Olga. 
 
 Life passed very uneventfully at Westbridge 
 for nearly a year. Ralph was getting quite impa- 
 tient, and the day for the wedding was finally 
 set. 
 
 An evening came in early September, when 
 Ralph and Nellie went to the church to practice, 
 previous to the ceremony. Olga sat at the organ 
 playing softly the wedding march. Ralph stood 
 by the chancel rail, while Nellie, leaning on Leon's 
 arm, walked slowly up the aisle. She looked up
 
 ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 333 
 
 into his face and playfully said, " I'll play 
 you are my father just for to-night, but I 
 have two fathers, and what I most need is a 
 brother." 
 
 And after that she wondered what made him 
 tremble so. The practicing was over, and Ralph 
 and Nellie, oblivious to all others, walked down 
 the old church aisle arm in arm. A ray of sun- 
 light stole in through the western window and 
 made a halo round her head. 
 
 Olga had finished the wedding march, but her 
 fingers still clung to the keys. Then sweeping 
 over them softly and full of pathetic melody, 
 came the opening bars of Home, Sweet Home ! 
 She sang and played the air through. What 
 melody rilled the solemn old church as the slant- 
 ing sunbeams glinted over the polished pews. 
 She thought she was alone, and she sang as 
 never before, clear through to the last line of 
 that soul-thrilling home song. Out from behind 
 the curtain which hid the player from his view 
 came Leon Thorpe, his empty sleeve fastened 
 into his coat-pocket. Seating himself beside her, 
 he took her hands from the keys, and imprisoned 
 both in his only one. 
 
 " Olga, I have waited for you all my life.
 
 334 STORM-SWEPT. 
 
 Will you make for me a home such as you have 
 been singing about ?" 
 
 " 1 will gladly help you make the home, Leon ; 
 but I can give you more than friendship. I 
 thought my love was buried." 
 
 " I shall be satisfied." 
 
 THE END.
 
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