THE 
 
 HOUSEHOLD ANGEL IN DISGUISE 
 
 MRS. MADELINE LESLIE. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HURST & COMPANY, 
 
 PUBLISHERS.
 
 Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 
 
 A . E . <* A K E R , 
 1.4 the Clerk's Office of the District w>urt for the District of Massachusetts
 
 Stjjfs Volume 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 REV. LEONARD WOODS, D. D. 
 
 OF ANDOVKR. MASS., 
 
 MY LAMENTED FATHER, IN TESTIMONY 
 
 OF MY GRATITUDE FOR III3 INVALUABLE INSTRUCTION AND EXAMPLE 
 
 WHICH DEEPLY IMPRESSED MY YOUTHFUL MIND WITH TUB 
 
 MANNER IN WHICH PIETY MULTIPLIES AND SWEETENS 
 
 THE JOYS OF DOMESTIC LIFB. 
 
 2OG1925
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL IN DISGUISE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Let me live amongst high thoughts and smiles, 
 As beautiful as love ; with grasping hands, 
 And a heart that flutters with diviner life 
 When e'er my step is heard." Proctor. 
 
 ON a slight eminence, in front of which lay a smooth 
 lawn, uninterrupted except by rows of aged elms that met 
 over the avenue in a loving embrace, stood a large stone 
 mansion. Directly opposite the front entrance, and 
 about three rods distant, was a spacious gateway with 
 immense stone posts, and an arch over it from which 
 hung a ponderous lamp. Advancing up the avenue, be- 
 fore named, about two thirds of the distance to the 
 house, were carriage drives turning to the right and left, 
 and winding around to the rear of the building. The 
 house itself was an irregular structure, with here awing, 
 and there a luthern, or a bow window ; but altogether 
 it formed a pleasing scene, and was not without some 
 claims even to artistic beauty. 
 
 The owner of this mansion was Mr. Hugh Stanley, 
 who had accompanied his father from the North of 
 England to the United States when a lad of t^n years 
 of age. Mr. Stanley the elder, purchased a large tract 
 
 V 5
 
 (j THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 'of land in Queenstown on the banks of the Hadson, 
 where he erected this noble dwelling, which at his death 
 fell into Ihe possession of his son and only heir. From 
 a large and beautiful grove of Linden trees in the rear 
 of the house, the estate had early been called Linden- 
 wood. By its elevation, it commanded an extensive 
 view of the surrounding country ; and by its rare natu- 
 ral scenery and numerous embellishments, delighted the 
 eye of the many travellers along that majestic river. 
 
 Mr. Hugh Stanley was educated for the bar, but had 
 never practised law except as a justice of the peace, and 
 in cases of minor importance in his own neighborhood. 
 Being of a reserved and quiet temperament, and pos- 
 sessed of a handsome fortune, he had heretofore occupied 
 himself with the care of his estate. His family consist- 
 ed of three daughters, Gertrude, Emma and Edith ; and 
 one son, a feeble child nine years of age. There was 
 also a young girl named Alice, a foster-sister of Edith, 
 who spent most of her time at the Hall ; her widowed 
 mother living at the end of the park. 
 
 An addition had lately been made to the family in the 
 persons of Stephen Forsyth, Esquire, and his ward, 
 Clarence Sydney. Mrs. Stanley had been deceased 
 about five years, during which time her husband had 
 been unfortunate in some of his moneyed transactions, 
 so that when Uncle Stephen returned from India with 
 numerous bags of gold, Mr. Stanley's daughters were 
 very earnest that he should fulfil a promise, he had made 
 to their mother more than sixteen years before, that he 
 would some day come home rich as a Jew, and settle 
 with them for life.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 7 
 
 Mr. Forsyth landed in New York. In answer to a 
 .fetter informing his nephew of his return, he had re- 
 ceived an urgent invitation to hasten at once to Linden- 
 wood, lie wrote, in reply : " I am prematurely old, and 
 people call me odd, or eccentric is. I believe, their word. 
 Unless your daughters are sweet tempered, like their 
 sainted mother, I do n't think they would find my society 
 agreeable, for I have lived so long among Hindoos, I 
 scarce know how to behave among civilized people. 
 Then I have a ward who will live with me while he 
 finishes his studies in preparation for the bar. So weigh 
 the subject well, and let me know whether you are will- 
 ing to devote yourselves to the whims of a petulant old 
 man. 
 
 " UNCLE STEPHEN. 
 
 " P. S. How could I forget to tell you that I am con- 
 fined to the use of a speaking-trumpet, and that I keeo 
 two monkeys. 
 
 " If, after knowing the above, you should conclude to 
 continue your invitation, I shall start at once for Linden 
 wood, for there are no words in the English language 
 strong enough to express my disgust of this city, which 
 is a perfect Babel ; and the cold bends me almost 
 double." 
 
 After many discussions in the family, Mr. Stanley 
 commissioned his daughter Gertrude, a young lady of 
 eighteen, to write to her uncle to "come;" and in ten 
 days after the receipt of the letter, he arrived, bag and 
 baggage, ward and monkeys, at Lindenwood Hall. 
 
 I do not intend any disparagement to Mr." Clarence
 
 8 THE HOUSEHOLD 
 
 Sydney by placing his name in such close proximity to 
 the animals of a lower order, for he was considered by 
 the family a great acquisition, affording as he did a 
 pleasing contrast with the grotesque appearance of 
 Uncle Stephen. 
 
 The young ladies had been easily persuaded by theh 
 fathei that the old gentleman, in his letter, had only 
 wished to try them by representing himself in as unfa 
 vorable a light as possible ; but when they saw him 
 descending from the carriage, assisted by his ward and 
 the coachman, it was with difficulty that they could 
 suppress a scream of horror, that such a man was hence- 
 forth to be an inmate of their home. 
 
 Uncle Stephen was naturally small of stature, but now 
 he was so bent down and shrivelled with the cold, that 
 it was difficult to tell how he would look if he stood 
 upright. He was so bundled up that but little could be 
 seen of his face, except a huge pair of goggles. HP 
 made no reply to the offers of assistance from Mr. Stan- 
 ley or from his nieces, when he had ascended the steps, 
 but pushed them aside, motioning to his ward to lead 
 him to the parlor, where he saw a fire blazing on tho 
 hearth. When he was seated in the large arm-chair, he 
 pointed to Gertrude to place a cricket under his feet; 
 then, in a low, gram voice, asked Clarence for his trum- 
 pet, who took from one of his outer pockets a large 
 horn, with a long coil attached to it, surmounted by an 
 ivory mouth-piece. The Vaf man immediately placed 
 the tube against his eai passing the other end to hia 
 nephew, who stood by looking on with amazement. 
 But he instantly put it to his mouth, and said in a loud
 
 'N DISGUISE. 
 
 voice, " We are happy to see you back again in youi 
 native country." 
 
 " Glad of it," replied Uncle Stephen, gruffly, " though 
 you appeared rather 'glum ; and the girls there look at 
 their old uncle as if they took me for an ogre." 
 
 Speaking through the tube, their father assured him 
 that they had been very impatient for his arrival. 
 
 "Well, perhaps so," said he, looking from one to* 
 another as they stood near ; " but they don't altogether 
 make up to me for the loss of Emma, their mother. 
 She'd have had her arms about my neck before I had 
 time to step my foot upon the ground ; but it's no mat- 
 ter," he continued, as if speaking to himself, while he 
 removed the goggles sufficiently to wipe away a tear 
 which had gathered at the mention of the deceased. 
 
 a This, I suppose, is Mr. Sydney," resumed the host, 
 endeavoring to give a more lively turn to the conversa- 
 tion. " He is so much altered that I should not recog- 
 nize him." 
 
 "'Tan't any body else." 
 
 Mr. Stanley cordially shook hands with his guest, and 
 introduced him to the different members of the family, 
 when the conversation became more general. In the 
 midst of it, Alice came in from the nursery accompanied 
 by Louis, of whom she went in search, after witnessing 
 with much curiosity the appearance of the Uncle, of 
 whom she had heard f?o much. " He loved aunty, 
 dearly," she whispered, as they advanced through the 
 hall, " and I want him to see that we love him for her 
 sake." But when Louis saw the odd figure, almost 
 buried in shawls and outer garments, h<> sinned lm-k ;
 
 10 THE HOU3F.HOLD ANGEL 
 
 but she whispered again, and he permitted her to lead 
 him up to his uncle's chair, where he said, timidly, as he 
 held out his small, white hand, " I am glad you have 
 come, because Alice says you knew my mother and 
 'oved her." 
 
 Uncle Stephen eagerly caught the little hand, and 
 kissed it ; but laying it quickly down, as if ashamed of 
 betraying so much emotion, he passed him the tube, in- 
 quiring, as he put it to his ear, " What did you say ? " 
 
 With a deep blush overspreading his pale countenance,, 
 the boy tried to speak, but was unable to articulate. 
 
 Taking the trumpet from him and giving it to Alice,. 
 he asked, " Who is he, and who are you, and what does 
 he want ? " 
 
 Though her lip quivered, the child replied, " He is 
 Louis, and I am Alice Carey. He says he loves you, 
 and he 's glad you 've come." 
 
 With a softened voice and manner, Uncle Stephen 
 replied, " And are you glad, too ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I am always glad when Louis is." 
 
 " Honest well, I like that. Do you live here?' 
 
 I live here part of the time. My mother lives in the 
 rotlage at the end of the park." 
 
 " What is her name ? " 
 
 " Susan Carey, sir." 
 
 " Was her name Susan Brown, and did she live at 
 the Hall once, as nurse to Mrs. Stanley ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, you may tell her she's got the best 'behaved, 
 and most civil little girl I've seen since I arrived in 
 America."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 1) 
 
 The child blushed, courtesied, and taking Louis by the 
 hand retired to a seat in the window. All this time, Mr. 
 Forsyth had sat with his outer garments on, just as he 
 entered; but now he motionfed to Clarence to remove 
 one of his coats. When he took off his hat lie retained 
 not only his wig, but velvet cap with a long tassel falling 
 over his shoulder, which added not a little to his gro 
 tesque appearance. 
 
 Clarence Sydney deserves more than the passing 
 notice we have given him. He was tall, of a noble 
 figure, and uncommonly erect. His face was serious, 
 even sad, when in repose; but there was a vein of mirth 
 in his composition, as was seen from an arch twinkle of 
 the eye, and a rogueish curl of the lip, on witnessing the 
 astonishment of the family at the appearance and con- 
 duct of his guardian. His eyes were large, and of a 
 deep blue. His hair was chestnut, and was pushed back 
 from his forehead, disclosing a broad, noble brow. His 
 nose was decidedly large ; but his mouth was small and 
 finely formed, giving evidence not only of great sweet- 
 ness of temper, but of firmness and resolution. Of the 
 relation in which he stood to Mr. Forsyth, we shall 
 speak hereafter. 
 
 Mr. Stanley, after directing the servants where to 
 place the baggage, called Mr. Sydney from the room to 
 consult about future arrangements. " Emma," said Ger- 
 trude, when he had retired, " what an old barbarian 
 Uncle Stephen is. If it were not for the young man, I 
 would persuade father to ship him, and his disgusting 
 monkeys back to India, in very short notice."
 
 \2 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 " But," said Edith, eagerly, " if he went, he'd carry his 
 money with him." 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed Alice, " how can you speak so, 
 when he says he loved your mother so dearly ? I'm 
 sure I shall always love him." 
 
 " I should like to know, Miss Alice," retorted Edith 
 angrily, who asked your opinion? I'd have you to 
 remember that you are only a servant." 
 
 " Hush, Edith," whispered Emma, looking at the old 
 gentleman, who was gazing abstractedly into the fire, 
 " don't speak so loud." 
 
 " No fear of him," said Gertrude ; " he is deaf as an 
 adder, and it is fortunate for us that he is so." 
 
 A few weeks later, when the family had become some- 
 what accustomed to the whims and caprices of Uncle 
 
 Stephen, Mr. Stanley started for N , from which 
 
 place he was to bring home a lady to preside over his 
 establishment, in place of the wife he had so tenderly 
 loved.
 
 CHAPTER 11." 
 
 " Beauty and worm in her alike contend, 
 
 To charm the fancy, and to fix the mind ; 
 In her, my wife, my mistress, and my friend, 
 
 I taste the joys of sense and reason joined." Hammond 
 
 MARION THURSTON was the daughter of a clergyman, 
 by whose sudden death she had been left an orphan, and 
 destitute of any near relatives. She was alone, and her 
 heart yearned for the sympathy and love ft> which she 
 had been accustomed in the society and affection of her 
 beloved parent. He had filled to her the places of father, 
 mother and friend. He had been her teacher as well as 
 companion ; had watched with fond nride her expanding 
 intellect ; had directed her studies and her reading; and 
 as she had grown older, consulted her in all his plans for 
 the welfare of his parish, and associated her with himself 
 in his visits to the poor and afflicted. 
 
 Marion had a face, which, though not handsome in 
 the strictest sense of the word, yet awakened feelings of 
 interest in the most casual observer. There was a purity 
 in the low, broad brow, from which her soft hair was 
 simply parted ; a clear, truthful expression in her deep 
 blue eye ; and when animated, such a sunlight spreading 
 over her whole countenance, that one turned instinctively 
 to look again. Brought up in intimate nssoc-iation with 
 a gentleman of truly refined tastes, and if a high order 
 of intellect ; shielded as far as possible from all p< T- 
 2 13
 
 14 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 nicious influences, she was now, at twenty-five, a youns, 
 lady gifted with rare endowments of mind and person, 
 and with a heart peculiarly susceptible to kindness and 
 love. She had received offers of marriage, but had never 
 been sufficiently interested in those who sought her hand 
 to wave'r for a moment in the determination she had 
 formed not to leave her father. Such was her character 
 at his death, which was the occasion of her first heart- 
 sorrow. Her mother died before her remembrance, and 
 from that time her life had flowed oil in uninterrupted 
 peace and quietness. But the loss of her only surviving 
 parent crushed her, and for a long time she was not able 
 to leave her bed. After the expiration of several months, 
 she was urged by dear friends to shut up the cottage, 
 and spend the summer with them. This she at length 
 consented to do, though it cost her a dreadful struggle to 
 leave, even for so short a time, the home rendered sacred 
 by the memory of her beloved parent. It was in the 
 family of her dearest friends, Mr. and Mrs. Churchill, 
 that she met Mr. Stanley, who visited them on his way 
 to the East. He was much pleased with her appearance, 
 though her countenance was rather pensive, and her 
 inannei in the presence of a stranger very retiring. He 
 continued his journey, but, wherever he went, a pair of 
 deej) blue eyes seemed ever appealing to him for kind- 
 ness and sympathy. He cut short his stay in B , 
 
 and returned to N , where he obtained rooms at th(5 
 
 public house, but spent most of his time in the family 
 of Mr. Churchill. He gradually won the confidence of 
 MVrion, encouraged her to talk of her father, and at
 
 IX DISGUISE. 15 
 
 length offered to fill the place in her heart rendered deso- 
 late by that father's sudden death. 
 
 Miss Thurston was at first startled at his abrupt pro- 
 posal, as she had never thought of him in the character 
 of a lover, and especially as he wished to take her with 
 him on his return to Liudenwood. But her friends were 
 enthusiastic in his praise; and Marion at length yielded 
 herself to the delight of being once more the dearest 
 object of affection to a true manly heart, though she 
 positively declined accompanying him to Linden wood 
 until he had made his intentions known to his family. 
 She urged him to consent that their marriage should be 
 postponed until the next summer ; but to this he would 
 by no means agree, and at length the twentieth of No- 
 vember was decided upon for the celebration of the 
 nuptials. 
 
 When Mr. Stanley communicated to his family his 
 .ruuded marriage, he met with no sympathy from his 
 daughters, who were very unwilling to give up the free- 
 dom they had so long enjoyed of acting out the impulses 
 of their own free will. Louis, however, was charmed 
 #itti tne description of his new mother; and many were 
 the conversations he held with Aliee upon tm* interesting 
 theme. But Edith more than either of her sisters openly 
 "\pressed her displeasure, and her determination, what- 
 ever Gertrude and Emma might do, to show Miss 
 Thurston that her inclinations and pleasures were not 
 to be restrained. 
 
 On one occasion, when she was unusually earnest in 
 asserting her own rights in opposition to those of a mere 
 stranger. Alice ventured to exuostulate with her, asking,
 
 16 THF. HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " Why should yon suppose she will wish to tyrannize 
 over you 1 " 
 
 Even Louis undertook her defence, and, with a Hush 
 upon his sickly countenance, said, " You ought not to 
 talk so, Edith, when you've never seen her. I think she 
 will be very kind ; and I mean to love her with all my 
 might." Exhausted by. his emotion, he put his hand 
 feebly into that of Alice, when, looking up, he beheld his 
 father standing behind him. 
 
 Mr. Stanley drew a chair near the group, and sat 
 down, taking Louis upon his knee. For a moment he 
 pressed the artless boy to his heart, when he turned to 
 Edith, who, with a heightened color, stood before him 
 with a seeming determination, now that .he had heard 
 her passionate words, to brave it out, and said, gravely, 
 " I shall give you no opportunity, my daughter, to make 
 your new mother unhappy by your undutiful conduct. 
 You will leave for school, and continue there until you 
 can command your temper, and can learn to treat her 
 with the respect and courtesy which are her due." 
 
 Edith's only reply was an ugly pout. 
 
 " Leave the room ! " commanded her father, sternly. 
 
 When she had gone, Louis whispered, " You wouldn't 
 send AJice away from me, father 1 " 
 
 " No, my dear, Alice shall not leave you. She is a 
 good child. I wish Edith were more like her ; " and 
 Mr. Stanley sighed as he thought how much more like 
 his departed Emma was the tearful girl who stood clasp- 
 ing the hand of his little son, than either of his own 
 children. " Alice," he resumed, after a short pause, " if I 
 am not very much mistaken, you will have cause to
 
 IN DlSGl'IRR. 1? 
 
 blesd the day Miss Thurston comes to dwel under this 
 roof." 
 
 " She loves her now ! " exclaimed Louis, eagerly. " She 
 told me how she looked, and ho\v good she was ; and she 
 says she i^ so glad, because she knows you will be hap- 
 pier." 
 
 Mr. Stanley cast a look of wonder upon the child, who 
 stood with downcast eyes, as she said, timidly, " I heard 
 you tell mother, sir ; and she said the girls ought to be 
 very thankful to have such a lady for a parent." 
 
 In the meantime Edith joined her sisters, and gave 
 them an exaggerated account of her grievances, sobbing 
 out, " Father never treated me so cruelly before. I hate 
 Miss Thurston more than ever, for she is the whole cause 
 of ir. I have a great mind to say I never will come 
 home from school!" Gertrude and Emma joined the 
 passionate girl in lamenting that the artful creature had 
 gained such an influence over their usually kind and 
 indulgent father ; and when they met him at dinner, they 
 only answered his kind inquiries in monosyllables. 
 
 The conduct of his daughters caused Mr. Stanley no 
 little solicitude. With the exception of Edith, they had 
 been uniformly dutiful and respectful toward him, though 
 he became every day more sensible that they needed a 
 mother's watchfulness and care. He felt, now, that he 
 had unintentionally deceived Miss Thurston in describ- 
 ing them as loving, affectionate girls, who would take 
 delight in rendering her happy. He began to -doubt 
 whether it would be right to expose her to such tiials as 
 he foresaw that she, with her too sensitive nature, would 
 be called upon to suffer. Edith's character had always 
 2*
 
 18 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL, 
 
 been an enigma to her parents. They could not discern 
 a single trait like her sister's. Though the younger, yet 
 by her proud, imperious will, she had, even before the 
 death of her mother, exercised control over her elder sis- 
 tors, especially over Gertrude, who was naturally indo- 
 lent, and would yield rather than defend her rights. Per- 
 haps there was no one in the family who could influence 
 Edith, and calm her passionate bursts of temper, so 
 quickly as Alice. Though very unobtrusive and unpre- 
 tending, yet she was bold in her defence of right, espec- 
 ially when Louis was assailed. Mrs. Stanley had hoped 
 much from the influence of this lovely child, and had 
 obtained a promise from her husband, on her death bed, 
 that she should remain in the family, and be educated 
 with her own children. 
 
 In the course of the week following Mr. Stanley's con- 
 versation with Edith, he completed his arrangements for 
 
 her and Emma to go to the boarding-school, in T , 
 
 from which Gertrude had graduated the previous sum- 
 mer. He was only persuaded to postpone it anothei 
 quarter, after heafing of the arrival of Uncle Stephen, 
 and their strong desire to see him before they left home, 
 Impelled by this curiosity, they gave their father a pledge 
 of good conduct, and were to leave a short time after th^ 
 introduction of their new mother to Lindenwood Hall. 
 
 This was the situation of the family when Mr. Stanley 
 
 started for N . Often during his journey he asked 
 
 himself, " Can I make her happy? Can I return hei 
 warm and tender affection, as breathed through every 
 line of her letters ? Is it a fair return of such love, to 
 offer her a heart whose first, best affections, are buried
 
 IN DISGUISE. Jb 
 
 .with my Emma ? Am I not too mature, too reserved, i 
 be a companion for one so artless and impulsive in her 
 temperament ? " But these momentary thoughts were 
 entirely dissipated as he approached the place of his des- 
 tination, and looked forward with delight to meeting 
 again his dear Marion. 
 
 At the pressing invitation of her friends, Miss Thura 
 
 ton had consented to remain in N , and to have the 
 
 wedding take place at their house. By her desire Mr. 
 Churchill rented the cottage, where she had lived so 
 happily with her lamented father, to the new clergyman 
 who had come to take his place. By the kindness of the 
 same friend the rest of her property had been converted 
 into money, and placed at interest. She had dwelt upon 
 the image and character of her betrothed until he had 
 become her ideal of all that was true, noble, and good. 
 With eyes streaming with tears of joy and gratitude, she 
 thanked her Father in heaven for providing her a friend 
 and companion to take the place of the one she had 
 lost. This was Marion's first love, and she poured out 
 freely her best and warmest affections, the whole wealth 
 of her generous heart. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Churchill witnessed her devotion to him, 
 and, though much pleased at her prospects, yet they 
 warned her that there might be many circumstances con- 
 nected with the relation of step-molher which would be 
 wounding to her feelings. But Marion answered, " With 
 a husband's love I can endure anything. And I mean lo 
 show them," she added, her eye brighienini. r , and hei 
 whole countenance glowing with ihe generous resolve 
 f that I love them for his sake, and that I hope to win
 
 20 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 their respect and affection. I feel sure that I shall sue* 
 ceed." 
 
 Her friends said no more, believing that the heart must 
 be indeed cold which responds not to such a sentiment. 
 
 Now Marion Stanley was to test the character and 
 feelings of her new friends, and certain misgivings, aris- 
 ing from remarks of her husband as they drew near Lin- 
 denwood, made her breast heave, and her eyes fill with 
 tears. They had been talking of Edith, and her father 
 had expressed his determination to keep her at school 
 until she could overcome her passionate temper, and her 
 unreasonable prejudices. 
 
 " How, then, can I win her confidence ? " asked Mrs. 
 Stanley, smiling through her tears. " I wish she were to 
 be at home, certainly for a time." 
 
 But her husband shook his head, and began to talk of 
 his gentle Louis, whose arms were open to receive her. 
 Nor did he fail to speak of Alice, who. was as dear to 
 him as his own children. With slight embarrassment 
 ne continued : " Her mother was brought up in the 
 family with my deceased Emma, and, from our marriage 
 to her own, lived with her as companion and nurse. 
 Edith is only a few days older than Alice, and my Em- 
 ma's health was then so feeble, that Susan, her mother, 
 took our little one and kept her until she was nearly two 
 yeais old. I think Edith retains some of the affection she 
 then exhibited for her foster sister, though she often makes 
 remarks which bring a tear to the eye of the sensitive 
 child. When first separated from her companion she 
 screamed so violently that her mother feared she would
 
 IX DISGUISE. 23 
 
 have convulsions. And thus it came to be the habit foi 
 Alice to live almost entirely at the Hall. I tried to pre- 
 vail upon Mrs. Carey to live with us ; but she prefers to 
 be alone at the cottage, except when she is needed for 
 Louis, who is as dear to her as her own child. Since 
 the decease of Mrs. Stanley she has been subject to fits 
 of despondence ; and at such times, even the presence 
 of her child adds to her melancholy ; but generally she is 
 cheerful and very efficient. 
 
 Mr. Stanley related to his wife his conversation with 
 Alice and Louis in regard to her, and the young bride 
 was comforted with the thought that she could influence 
 these dear children for good ; and, perhaps through them, 
 win her way to the hearts of the others. She asked 
 many questions concerning the uncle, of whose arrival 
 she had been at once informed, and was quite amused 
 at the graphic account her husband gave her of the old 
 gentleman and his oddities. 
 
 For a number of weeks Uncle Stephen had confined 
 himself almost entirely to his own suite of apartments, 
 where, in the company of his ward, he passed his time ; 
 though, whether in reading, writing, amusing himself 
 with the tricks of Sally and Polio, or v/hatever way. 
 could not be ascertained, as no one ventured, uncalled, 
 into the presence of the deaf nabob, as he was styled by 
 the servants. But on the day of the expected arrival of 
 Mr. Stanley and his bride, he appeared at dinner, ar- 
 rayed in a new suit, consisting of a gayly embroidered 
 smoking cap over his wig (though smoking was the old 
 gentleman's abhorrence), with the long gilt tassel falling 
 as usual over his shoulders ; and with slippers, em- 
 bossed with gold bullion.
 
 Z2 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 When he entered the dining-hall, Gertrude and hei 
 sisters were at no loss to account for the perfect roar of 
 laughter which they had heard from his room, at several 
 different times during the forenoon, and which, indeed, 
 was no unusual sound from that quarter. Their illj- 
 concealed mirth did not by any means escape his notice. 
 Indeed, his eyes, though shaded by the huge goggles, 
 allowed nothing to pass without attention. The young 
 ladies often remarked, that if his hearing were as perfect 
 as his sight, they would not be able to - live in the house 
 with him ; but on this occasion the only perceptible 
 result of their rude conduct was an incessant demand, 
 on his part, for attention. He was continually mum- 
 bling to himself, only now and then a sentence being 
 spoken intelligibly : " In my dotage when I left India ;" 
 " Heathen Hindoos more civib'zed than some Christians ; 
 but 'twa'n't always so." 
 
 After dinner, Clarence Sydney having learned that 
 Uncle Stephen would remain in the parlor until the ex- 
 pected arrival of Mr. Stanley with his lady, went out for 
 a walk to the village. 
 
 After his departure, Gertrude and her sisters, unre- 
 strained by his presence, began to discuss various items 
 of family matters. " I wonder," commenced Emma, 
 \vhat Uncle Stephen thinks of our new relative ? " 
 
 " The great Mogul has condescended to give no 
 opinion upon the subject," repb'ed Edith. 
 
 " I suppose," remarked Gertrude, " that he is waiting 
 nntil he has seen her before he gives his opinion. She 
 must feel flattered at her new connection. How ridicu- 
 lously he looks, decked out like a peacock. I saw Clar-
 
 I\ DISGUISE. 
 
 ence had as much as he could do to retain his dignity. 
 I noticed that he never once glanced at his guardian all 
 the time \ve sat at the table." 
 
 An expressive cough from the subject of their remarks, 
 startled the eager group into an awkward silence, durinr 
 which Alice, who had occupied her favorite seat in the 
 window with Louis, advanced to the old gentleman, and 
 quietly placed a cricket under his feet. He started as if 
 from sleep, and something like a smile flitted for a mo- 
 ment across his features. 
 
 " How the old fellow frightened me," said Edith, in a 
 low voice, and drawing a long breath. 
 
 "Nonsense, child!" exclaimed Gertrude, shrugging 
 her shoulders as she left the room. " He was snoring." 
 
 " How Clarence can be so devoted to him is a mys- 
 tery to me," said Emma, as she and Edith joined their 
 sister. 
 
 " On the verge of evening a cheerful fire was blazing 
 on the hearth, throwing out its fitful gleams of light to 
 the farthest end of the apartment. It was truly a pious- 
 ant scene to look upon. Ally and Louis were sitting in 
 graceful attitudes upon the rug near a large globe, which 
 they had drawn up to the light ; while Clarence, who 
 appeared inspired wilh animation by the rapt attention 
 nf hi 5 hearers, was pointing out places of interest which 
 he had visited. Uncle Stephen had so far lost his pres- 
 ence of mind as to push back the goggles from hi,*; 
 eyes, and disclosed a pair of brilliant orbs, whose mild, 
 loving glances were resting upon the group before him. 
 
 "And did you live there too?" inquired Louis of 
 Clarence, pointing to the southern part of Hmdoostan,
 
 24 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 while the heat and reflection from the fire gave an almost 
 unearthly beauty to his usually pale countenance. 
 
 " Yes, my little cousin, I lived there with Uncle Ste- 
 phen, amidst Ihe elephants and tigers you were reading 
 about this morning." 
 
 " What a pity Uncle Stephen can't hear," murmured 
 Alice, looking tenderly in his face. " I always feel as if 
 I wanted to tell him what we're talking about." 
 
 " He wouldn't always be edified by the conversation^' 
 responded Clarence, with an arch smile. 
 
 " No," said Alice, blushing painfully, " but when, a& 
 now, he'd like to hear it." 
 
 Tell him so, then." 
 
 Uncle Stephen moved uneasily in his chair, as the 
 child put the trumpet to her mouth ; but he placed the 
 tube to his ear, and said, kindly, " I know, little girl, 
 you've been talking about the old man. I've seen the 
 pitying glances you cast up here." 
 
 " I told Clar Mr. Sydney," said the child, hesi- 
 tating, " that I wanted you to hear too, because we're 
 having such a beautiful time." 
 
 " Ahem ! ahem ! " said the old gentleman, clearing his 
 throat; "so you can't enjoy yourself unless I enjoy it 
 too ? Did anybody ever tell you, Alice," he said, ab- 
 ruptly, after she had returned to her seat on the rug, 
 "that you were like Mrs. Stanley ? " 
 
 Alice shook her head as she replied, " Xo, sir." 
 
 " Got no eyes then," grumbled he, in his old tone. 
 
 " My little cousin Ally," said Clarence, laying his hand 
 on her arm, " do you wish to please me ? " 
 
 O, yes, sir ! "
 
 IN 
 
 " Well, then, never call me Mr. Sydney again, but 
 Clarence, or Cousin Clarence, if you will." 
 
 " But Gertrude told me " she checked herself. 
 
 " No matter what anybody told you, will you re- 
 member ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Just as Louis had put out his hand to thank his cousin 
 for the kindness extended to his dearest friend, the door 
 of the parlor opened, and Mr. Stanley appeared, leading 
 in his lady. For just one instant, all remained motion- 
 less, the quick glance of the young wife taking in the 
 whole pleasing tableau, when Louis eagerly sprang 
 forward into his father's arms. Alice would have fol- 
 lowed, her glowing cheeks and beaming eyes betraying 
 her interest ; but she hesitated, when a look from Clar- 
 ence decided her, and she advanced cordially and grace- 
 fully to Mrs. Stanley, and gave her her hand. Marion 
 quickly drew the lovely child to her heart, and whispered, 
 " Thank you, my dear.'' 
 
 " If you are endeavoring to gain the affection of this 
 young man, you are taking the surest means to do so," 
 said Mr. Stanley, introducing Louis to his new mother. 
 
 The boy put his arms lovingly about her neck, irre- 
 sistibly attracted by the tenderness which beamed from 
 her eye ; and he kissed her tenderly. Then, taking her 
 hand, he led her toward the fire, saying, " Here's Uncle 
 Stephen, mamma. Alice and I love him dearly; but 
 he's very deaf, and he can't hear unless you speak 
 through the trumpet." 
 
 Uncle Stephen took no notice of his nephew's earnest 
 signs for attention, but appeared wholly absorbed in the 
 3
 
 2ti THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 vigorous use of his bandanna, and Mr. Stanley intro 
 duced to him his wife. 
 
 Marion caught the glance of kind interest with which 
 Uncle Stephen regarded her, entirely forgetful that, his 
 goggles were lying useless upon the top of his head, and 
 without ceremony she took the old gentleman's hand. 
 She was agreeably surprised at the warmth with which 
 it was returned, and from that time knew, however 
 Uncle Stephen might appear, there was a warm heart 
 beating beneath all the seeming coldness of his manner. 
 
 " Where are the girls ? " asked Mr. Stanley of Alice. 
 
 " I will call them, sir," she replied : " we did not hear 
 the carriage drive up ; and they do not know you have 
 arrived." They immediately made their appearance, 
 and greeted their father with affection, and their mothei 
 at least with politeness. Mr. Stanley spoke in a low 
 tone to Alice, when she went toward the stranger, say- 
 ing, " Will you please come with me to your room ? " 
 
 The lady immediately arose, and Louis put his hand 
 in hers, asking, " May I go too ? " 
 
 The evening passed pleasantly away. Even Uncle 
 Stephen, as he turned to watch the countenance of. one 
 and another, seemed unconscious of the lateness of the 
 hour. But the young bride felt sad as the family sepa- 
 rated without having first thanked God for the favors of 
 the day ; and she repressed a sigh as she asked herseli, 
 " Have I como into a prayerless family ? "
 
 CHAPTER 111. 
 
 " Perfumes, the more they're chafd the more they render 
 Their pleasant scents ; and so affliction 
 Expresseth virtue fully, whether true 
 Or else adulterate." J. Webster. 
 
 Two weeks passed away, during which time Mrs. 
 Stanley had so endeared herself to Ally and Louis, that 
 they were never so happy as when sitting by her side, 
 and listening to her pleasant instructions. The prepara- 
 tions were completed for Emma's and Edith's departure : 
 
 and they were to leave for T the next morning. The 
 
 kind interest her new mother had manifested for her, 
 touched Emma's heart, and she would have thrown away 
 her reserve, and treated her with affection, had it not been 
 for the influence of her younger sister, who found some 
 thing to ridicule or sneer at in every action, though she 
 took good care not to do so in the presence of her fal her. 
 She ascribed her mother's kindness to the worst motive? 
 while Gertrude, though ceremoniously polite, took no 
 pains to conceal the fact that she considered Mrs. Stan- 
 ley as an intruder. The word mother had never passed 
 her lips, and she had made a solemn promise not to call 
 Mrs. Stanley by that sacred name. 
 
 Poor Marion ! It needed all the attention of her hus- 
 band, all the confiding love of the younger children, all 
 the sympathy expressed in the countenance of Uncle 
 Stephen, to enable her to endure this chilling indifference 
 
 27
 
 28 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 on the part of those whom she longed to be able to regard 
 as her own children. She had always been so beloved by 
 her friends, had lived in such an atmosphere of peaceful 
 affection, that she was often obliged to retire to her rooir 
 to give vent, in tears, to her grief and disappointment. 
 
 Little did her husband imagine the constant annoy 
 ances to which she was subjected, for in his presence 
 Gertrude, and even Edith, restrained any outward mani- 
 festation of the feeling of dislike which increased with 
 every fresh indulgence of unkindness toward their gentle, 
 unassuming mother. Indeed, he inwardly congratulated 
 himself that his daughters conducted themselves toward 
 her much better than he had dared to expect ; but they 
 had seen her quietly submit to insulting language, and 
 they began to feel contempt for her as a tame character. 
 They never dreamed of the severe conflict which w r as go- 
 ing on in her soul. They could not understand, or appre- 
 ciate, the agony of spirit \vith which, night and morning, 
 she plead with her God, and her father's God, for wisdom 
 so to conduct herself as to win all the dear members of 
 this beloved family to her Saviour. Sometimes, indeed, 
 she was tried beyond endurance ; and, though a sudden 
 flashing of her eye, which was daily growing more seri- 
 ous in its expression, and a flush upon her cheek, might 
 have convinced her daughters that she felt, keenly felt, 
 their unkindness ; yet she would quickly retire to her 
 closet, and there give way to a passionate burst of grief. 
 
 " Oh ! why, why will they be so cruel, so unjust, to 
 me ? Why will they persist in ascribing all my words 
 of love, all my interest in them, to the worst of motives ! " 
 This question she often asked, while tears were stream-
 
 29 
 
 ing down her cheeks. " How can my husband be so 
 blind as not to see this? He has spoken of my depres- 
 sion of spirits, and feared I was disappointed either ii. 
 him or in my home. I assured him truly this was not 
 the ease ; but oh ! I could not speak of the cruel. unlacU 
 like taunts I constantly received from his children, when 
 not restrained by his presence, or that of Mr. Sydney. 
 No, I will not make him unhappy. I will try first to con- 
 quer myself, for oh ! how hard my heart must be, when T 
 find it so difficult to love them ; and then to conquer 
 them by kindness." 
 
 During the evening previous to the departure of Emma 
 and Edith, Mrs Stanley went to her room for the pur- 
 pose of writing a note to them, begging their acceptance 
 of some bracelets which she had ordered for them, of 
 beautiful and chaste workmanship. A stone of rare value 
 was set in each, and underneath it the initials of their 
 names. To E. S., from their mother. Mr. Sydney had 
 returned from New York that evening, and had just 
 given them to her. On advancing toward her dressing 
 table, she perceived it had been removed, while all the 
 contents of the drawers were thrown carelessly upon the 
 bed. She stood for one moment in amazement. Tim 
 was but a fresh instance of the annoyances to which sh< 
 had every day been exposed, and she doubted whethei 
 she ought not to resist such treatment ; but she shrank 
 from the thought of a contest with Edith, who, she 
 doubted not, was the principal in this offence. Already 
 she had seen in her such a disposition to tyrannize over all 
 around her, she was sure the proud girl would not yield 
 to her authority without a struggle. After a few moments 
 3*
 
 30 THE HOrSr.IIOLD AMGF.f, 
 
 *?!< knocked al Gertrude's dorr, and was instantly admit' 
 led. Indeed, she seemed to be expected by the young 
 ladies, who were making themselves very merry upon 
 some subject of which they had been conversing. Edith 
 was standing in front of the missing table, the top of 
 which was strown with combs, brushes, and hair-pins, 
 while she had unbound her hair, and was deliberately 
 proceeding to dress it for the evening, having just heard 
 of the arrival of Mr. Sydney. 
 
 " I think you have appropriated my dressing-table," 
 said the young mother in a voice which slightly trembled, 
 notwithstanding all her efforts to appear perfectly calm. 
 " I found my laces and other articles in rather a confused 
 state." 
 
 No one answered. 
 
 " I hardly expected young ladies would have treated 
 one so much of a stranger with so little courtesy, she 
 continued, brushing away a tear which filled her eye. 
 
 " Yon needn't look so woe-begone at Gertrude," re- 
 plied Edith, with a coarse laugh. " She wanted the 
 table, but she never would have had the spunk to take it, 
 so I t*ook it for her ; not doubting your willingness to 
 oblige," she added, with a low courtesy of mock respect 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was so indignant at the tone and manner 
 of this rude speech, that it was with difficulty she re- 
 si rained herself from a sharp reply. She turned instantly 
 to leave the room, but had not shut the door, when she 
 heard Edith exclaim, in a triumphant tone, " There ! 
 didn't I tell you so ! She's a mean, craven-spirited 
 woman ! * She dared not speak a word in her own de- 
 fence ! I'd like to have anybody try that game on me
 
 IN DISGUISE. i 
 
 I'd siorm and rave till I raised the roof, before Pd submit 
 to it." 
 
 " I never was so thoroughly mortified in my life," said 
 Emma. " If she had staid one moment more, I should 
 have told her so." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley retired to her own room ; but it was 
 some time before she could compose herself to the task 
 before her. Again and again did she throw herself upon 
 her knees, in prayer for strength to endure all the trials 
 which her heavenly Father thought needful for her. 
 When she arose, the memory of the past the quiet - 
 and happy life she had led with her sainted father stood 
 out in such bold contrast with the insulting abuse the 
 petty annoyances which, by their constant recurrence so 
 embittered her present life, that she could only weep 
 afresh. She felt herself alone, and unprotected ; and 
 for the first time hard thoughts of her husband began to 
 arise in her heart. She felt that she had been deceived. 
 Not for worlds would she have left her pleasant home, to 
 live a life of such wretchedness as she now saw before 
 her. Then the questions again arose, whether she ought 
 to submit to it ; whether it were not a sin toward those, 
 who, however they might regard her, stood in the tender 
 relation of children. She wrung her hands in agony. 
 " Oh ! what can I do ? I am altogether unfit for such 
 a responsibility. Naturally timid and wanting in de- 
 cision, with my whole heart, I shrink from these trials." 
 
 But Marion Sianlcy was not alone. The good Spirit 
 whispered, " 1 am wiih llicc. As thy day is, so shall thy 
 strength be." She again bowed her head, not in prayer, 
 but in praiso. Yes, AJan.ui was comforted. An Al-
 
 32 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 might) arm was underneath her, and though clouda 
 overcast her sky, yet she was* enabled by faith to look 
 forward to the time when these precursors of storm 
 should pass away, and the sun shine forth unclouded in 
 his brightness. A glorious future rose to her vision, in, 
 which she saw husband and children bowed with her 
 around the family altar, blessing God for her presence, 
 who had led them to happiness and peace. The thought 
 of Ally and Louis, also, came to cheer her, and she 
 realized that she had still many mercies. Her husband 
 no longer appeared unsympathizing, and she rejoiced 
 that his heart was spared the pang he would feel if ac- 
 quainted with the conduct of his daughters. She re- 
 membered, too, the respectful manner of Mr. Sydney, 
 who had from the first treated her with the affection of 
 a brother ; and also the appreciating glances of kindness 
 and sympathy from Uncle Stephen. She laid these 
 things up in her heart, as preventives to the recurrence 
 of the overwhelming despondence she had heretofore ex- 
 perienced ; and seated herself at her desk to write to 
 her daughters. The two small cases, containing the 
 valuable gifts, lay before her. She opened one, and 
 taking out the bracelet, touched a spring and disclosed 
 to view a miniature of herself, exquisitely painted on 
 ivory. Though very minute, yet the features were per- 
 fect, and the expression, which met her own, was full of 
 earnest affection. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was an artist, though the knowledge of 
 her skill was as yet a profound secret in her family. She 
 had copied these from her miniature executed by a skil- 
 ful artist. She again compared them, and was more
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 than ever satisfied of her success. She replaced the toy. 
 and with a heart full of the best wishes for her daugh- 
 ters, from which every hard thought had flown, she com- 
 menced the following epistle : 
 
 " My dearly beloved daughters, 
 
 " When you unpack your trunks, you will each find 
 a small casket, of the contents of which I beg your ac- 
 ceptance. From a casual remark I heard from you, 
 Emma, about your choice of trinkets, I hope these will 
 not be unacceptable. The thought that you will some- 
 times, when wearing them, think of me as one who 
 would gladly sacrifice her own comfort fo'r your good ; 
 who entered your pleasant home with a heart fully re- 
 solved to do you good, and to love you as my own daugh- 
 ters, will fully and richly repay me for procuring them. 
 
 " By touching a small spring under the first letter ot 
 your name, you will see that I have taken the liberty to 
 give you a miniature of myself. When you look at it, 
 remember that your mother will never forget you ; but 
 that morning and evening her prayers will ascend to 
 Heaven in your behalf. 
 
 " MARION T. STANLEY." 
 
 Having sealed the letter, she gave it with the caskets 
 to Mrs. Carey, requesting her to pack them into the 
 trunks unknown to the young ladies. The good woman 
 promised compliance, though she said gravely, with a 
 shake of the head, " I'm afraid they don't deserve such 
 kindness at your hands." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley then joined her husband and the family
 
 34 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 in the parlor, with a countenance so full of peace and 
 tranquillity that some of them at least looked upon her 
 with amazement ; and, when she replied to a casual 
 remark of Emma's, her tone was so full of motherly 
 tenderness that the eyes of the young lady were suffused 
 with tears. At the close of the evening, when her sisters 
 left the room, she remained behind, and, putting her 
 arms for one moment about her mother, kissed her good 
 night. 
 
 O, what a thrill of joy and gratitude that affectionate 
 embrace sent through the loving heart of the young 
 parent! What an earnest did she consider it of her 
 success in the great work she had undertaken ! 
 
 There was one present who rejoiced with her in this 
 token of childlike affection. Quick as thought, Uncle 
 Stephen pushed his goggles to the top of his head, that 
 he might see more distinctly ; and when she turned to 
 leave the room, with his usual expressive cough he 
 called " Emma ! " in a tone so different from any she 
 had ever heard from him, that she could scarce believe 
 the sound came from his lips ; but, on her approaching, 
 he said, with emotion, " God bless you, child ! you may 
 yet be worthy of the name of your sainted mother. 
 There, go ! " he added, impatiently, seeing her stand 
 gazing at him in wonder; "what are you stopping for?" 
 
 With an impulsive motion, the young girl caught 
 Uncle Stephen's hand, pressed it to her lips, and darted 
 from the room. She did not wait to see the effect of 
 her action. 
 
 " What an old fool I am," grumbled Ui c)e Stephen, 
 fumbling impatiently for his handkerchief. " One would
 
 IN DISGUISE. 35 
 
 think I hud never been kissed before. But I should like 
 to know who there is to feel for her, if I don't ; " and, 
 with this apology, he allowed his tears to flow unre- 
 strained until he had overcome his sudden emotion. 
 
 When Mrs. Stanley at length advanced to bid hiri; 
 good night, having taken care to keep out of his sight, 
 he muttered, " Bad girls, very ; what's to become of 
 them ? " 
 
 " O, no ! " she exclaimed, eagerly putting the trumpet 
 to her mouth. " Emma has a warm heart. She will 
 make a fine character yet." 
 
 " Humph ! Edith, too, perhaps ? " 
 
 A shade passed over the animated countenance of the 
 lady as she answered, slowly, " Edith is high-tempered ; 
 but she is still young, and, with proper training, may yet 
 do well. She has a great deal of energy." 
 
 " Charity covers a multitude of sins," muttered the old 
 gentleman in a low tone. Then, speaking aloud, " Alice 
 is worth the whole troop. She's honest well, good 
 night, ma'am." 
 
 She held out her hand, which he at first appeared not 
 to notice, when he suddenly turned again, saying, " Do 
 you know how to pray ? " 
 
 Marion's cheek flushed as she bowed assent 
 
 " Pray, then ; pray for them all. They need it."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 u Tho' losses and crosses 
 
 Be lessons right severe, 
 There's wit there, ye'll get there 
 Ye'll find nae other where." Burns, 
 
 UNCLE STEPHEN and Maria Forsyth vere tlic only 
 children of their parents. Their father died before Ste- 
 phen's remembrance, leaving them to be t^e comfort and 
 support of their widowed mother. Maria was five years 
 older than her brother, and dearly did he love his sister, 
 whose whole affections were lavished upon her afflicted 
 parent and the little pet of the household. Eight years 
 after the death of their father, these orphan children were 
 called to follow the remains of their mother to the house 
 appointed for all living. And now Stephen would have 
 been disconsolate indeed, had it not been for his oejoved 
 sister, who watched over him with almost a mother's 
 solicitude and tenderness. To her teachings, warning 
 and entreaVi he was indebted, under the care of his 
 
 / ' * 
 
 heavenly Father, for preservation from many of the follies 
 and vices of youth. Her finger pointed to the paths of 
 virtue and holiness as the only paths of peace. Her 
 prayers ever ascended to God that the good Spirit might 
 incline him to walk in them. 
 
 At the age of twenty, he left the shores of his native 
 land for a lucrative situation in India. His sister had 
 been married for several years, and had two children 
 
 S6
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGKL IN DISGUISE. 37 
 
 Emma, who afterwards became Mrs. Stanley, and Ste- 
 phen, named for himself. It was a dreadful affliction lor 
 her to part with her brother, for he had no expectation 
 of returning for many years, until he had made a fortune 
 sufficiently large to secure his independence. The strong- 
 est hope of his sister for his speedy return centred upon 
 the tearful girl who clung so convulsively to him at part- 
 ing, begging him in heart-rending terms not to leave her. 
 
 " Keep up good courage, Isabel," said the young man, 
 as he tried to force back the tears he considered it un- 
 manly to shed. " I shall soon make a fortune, and then 
 we will have a beautiful home, and I will never leave 
 you. 5 ' 
 
 Alas, alas, for human calculations ! Before SAX years, 
 he had heard first of the death of his sister and of her 
 only son, and then of the marriage of his Isabel. The 
 latter event threw him into a state of such gloom and 
 despondence that he lost more than half of the fortune 
 he had accumulated ; and, after living on a year or two 
 in melancholy amounting almost to insanity, he returned 
 to his native country, hardly thirty years old, but bent 
 and wrinkled like an old man. His whole character had 
 undergone a change. From being light of heart, trust- 
 ing and hopeful, he was morose, distrustful, and despair- 
 ing. About six months after his return, he was called 
 to the bedside of the one whom he believed had violated 
 her solemn vows to him, but who was now a widow and 
 dying. She revealed to him a plot of villany by which 
 she had been led to believe him married in India, and 
 that, shocked by his want of fidelity, and hopeless of the 
 future, she had given her hand to Mr. Sydney, a man 
 4
 
 38 THF HOUSEHOLD ANGKL 
 
 whom she soon found had deceived her, not only with 
 regard to her beloved friend, but as to his own character. 
 He had taken delight in her distress, when he boasted to 
 her of the forged account of Mr. Forsyth's marriage, 
 which he had caused to be inserted in the papers. She 
 confessed her sin in having married a man whom she did 
 not love, and, with panting breath, begged his forgiveness 
 for the injury she had done him. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the nature of Mr. 
 Forsyth's feelings as he sat by the couch of the dying 
 woman, and heard her confession, interrupted as it was 
 by groans and tears as she witnessed the agitation of 
 the bowed man sitting before her, and learned from it 
 that his grief had even surpassed her own. 
 
 " Isabel, my own Isabel ! " he exclaimed, his voice 
 choking with emotion, " you must not die. We may 
 yet be happy. God forgive me for having doubted you ; 
 nay, for having distrusted his goodness. O, my Isabel, 
 live for me," he continued, grasping her pale, emaciated 
 hand tightly in his own. " I cannot give you up." 
 
 The dying woman lay gasping for breath, almost terri- 
 fied at the wildness of his manner. At length she spoke 
 feebly. " It is too late ; I am even now dying. But 
 you can grant me one favor ; then I can lay my body 
 in the grave in peace." ' 
 
 Overpowered with grief, Mr. Forsyth could oi.ly bow 
 his assent. 
 
 " Take, then, my boy, my only child. I give him to 
 you. He will be the heir to considerable property. I 
 wish you to be his guardian, his father. Clarence, my 
 child, come here ' "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 39 
 
 The boy advanced from the farther end of the apart- 
 ment, where, unobserved, he had witnessed all that had 
 passed. His countenance bore the marks of violent agi- 
 tation, but with a maturity beyond his years he restrained 
 his feelings, and put his hand into his mother's. " Thip, 
 Stephen," she faltered, " has been my daily prayer, that 
 God would spare my life until I could tell you how 
 truly, faithfully I have loved you, and give into your care 
 my best earthly treasure. Will you take- him ? " 
 
 Mr. Forsyth opened his arms, and, at a motion from 
 his mother, Clarence advanced, and was clasped tightly 
 to the heart of her early friend. u Isabel," said he, after 
 a pause of intense emotion to both of them ; " Clarence 
 is henceforth my own son. Why will you not give me a 
 legal right to the name ? " 
 
 Isabel started. 
 
 " Why not give me the bliss of calling you mine, for 
 the brief remainder of your life. Even now God has 
 power to send health through your enfeebled frame. Oh, 
 God ! " he added, throwing himself upon his knees, " J 
 will bless thee all my days ! " 
 
 A beautiful smile of affection played about the mouth 
 of Mrs. Sydney, as she put her hand in his. 
 
 " You will ! you do consent ! " he exclaimed, joyfully , 
 " you will yet be my own bride, my wife ! " and he 
 warmly pressed the cold hand to his lips, while his frame 
 shook with struggling emotion. 
 
 " Yes, Stephen, if my life is spared until morning, I 
 will be your wife. I will not try to conceal from you that 
 it will give me a pleasure I never looked for in this world
 
 40 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Ther. Jlarence will be your own your own." She 
 repeated the words faintly, as if falling asleep. 
 
 " Isabel ! Isabel ! " he almost shouted, as she sank back 
 fainting ; " You will not leave me thus." He pulled the 
 bell violently, when the nurse entered from an adjoining 
 chamber. Mrs. Sydney's countenance so nearly resem- 
 bled death^that Mr. Forsyth rushed wildly from the room, 
 utterly unable to restrain his grief. 
 
 By the application, however, of powerful stimulants, 
 she soon revived, and looked anxiously around. A shiver 
 seized her, and she put her hand to her head aa if fearful 
 she had been dreaming. 
 
 " He has gone below," said the kind nur*p, observing 
 her look of distress. " I will call him." 
 
 Clarence, who had been weeping bitterly, advanced to 
 the bed-side, while she hastened to the parlor, where she 
 found the afflicted man leaning on the table, with his face 
 buried in his hands. He started up as she entered, and 
 gazed at her with horror, as if he shrank from the tidings 
 he feared she had come to impart. u Mrs. Sydney has re- 
 vived," she said, " and seems anxious to see you." 
 
 He started forward, when she detained him. " It is 
 necessary to be more calm. It would not do for you to 
 see her thus. Can you command your feelings ? " 
 
 " I can, I will, I must be calm ; " he answered, impa 
 tient at the momentary delay. 
 
 During the night the pulse became more feeble. Tho 
 last sands of life were ebbing fast away ; but her mind 
 remained clear, and the dying woman besought her friend 
 to look to the Saviour, in whom she trusted for support 
 under this trial. Again and again she thanked her heav
 
 IN DISGUISE. 41 
 
 enly Father for his gracious answer to her prayer, and for 
 providing a protector for her orphan child. 
 
 She repeatedly assured him that he had ever occupied 
 the first place in her earthly affections, and expressed her 
 gratitude for his forgiveness and renewed affection. To- 
 ward morning in feeble accents she once more commit- 
 ted Clarence to his care, exhorting him to bring up her 
 child " in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." She 
 then told her son to remember his mother's dying words, 
 u Fear God and keep his commandments, obey and love 
 Mr. Forsyth as your father," and, pointing upward, she 
 whispered, "meet me there." Her eyelids closed, 
 while a heavenly smile of hope and trust rested upon her 
 features. When the morning sun arose, his earliest rays 
 fell upon the lovely countenance of Mrs. Sydney, pale 
 and motionless in death. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe the almost frantic grief 
 of the afflicted lover, who felt as if bereaved of all that 
 rendered life desirable ; but will pass over a period of five 
 years. During this time Mr. Forsyth remained in his 
 native country, settling the affairs of Mrs. Sydney, and 
 occupying himself in the care and education of her son. 
 At the time of his mother's decease, Clarence was nearly 
 three years old. Though at that period far from prepos- 
 sessing in his personal appearance, his guardian found 
 him possessed of an extremely affectionate heart, and of 
 a warm and impulsive nature. When he came undei 
 the care of Mr. Forsyth, (or Uncle Stephen, as he had 
 been taught to call him), he had evidently known but little 
 restraint, and was self-willed and violent in his temper, 
 when excited. But his passion soon passed away, and 
 4
 
 42 THE HOUSE! OLD ANGEL 
 
 was succeeded by a perfect torrent of self-reproach, in 
 which he humbly begged forgiveness. -Under the judic- 
 ious management of Uncle Stephen, who never for a 
 moment forgot, in his care of the boy, his mother's dying 
 words, " bring him up in the fear of the Lord," Clarene* 1 
 became all that the fondest parent could wish. 
 
 At the expiration of that time, having become restless 
 at so long a period of inactivity, Uncle Stephen con- 
 cluded once more to go to India, and did so, taking Clar- 
 ence with him, having remained in the family of his 
 niece, Mrs. Stanley, for the last six mouths of his stay in 
 the country. In that period he transferred all the devoted 
 affection he had felt for his sister, to her child ; and when 
 he left her, his grief nearly equalled that he had experi- 
 enced in leaving his dear Maria. She exhibited a tender 
 affection f.ir Clarence, and begged her uncle to leave the 
 boy under her care ; while she listened with pleased in- 
 terest to her uncle, when he prophesied that his ward 
 would some day become a distinguished man, and claim 
 a relation with the little miss who was now clapping her 
 hands in ecstasy at the sight of the high house he had 
 made with her blocks. 
 
 At that time Gertrude was only two years old, so that 
 ghe remembered nothing of the brilliant future prophe- 
 sied for her. But Clarence was a tall, mature boy of 
 eight, and while he seemed only intent upon amusing his 
 little companion, he heard and remembered all that was 
 eaid. In the years which had intervened, he had often 
 called to mind the little, fairy-like figure enticing him to 
 play, and rewarding him with a s\\eet kiss from her coral 
 lips, until she was associated in his mind with all that
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 was lovable and lovely. After his return io America. 
 six years before Uncle Stephen, he often longed to visit 
 Lindenwood Hall, and renew his acquaintance with his 
 young companion, of whom he could never think, except 
 a? a bright, laughing child. But his time had passed so 
 rapidly in college, and at the law school, that he had 
 never done so. When Uncle Stephen announced his 
 intention to return, and spend the remainder of his days 
 in his native land, and added, that if it was agreeable to 
 the family of his nephew, it was his wish to live with 
 them ; it is not strange that the opportunity thus afforded 
 of seeing once more one who had been a part of his daily 
 as well as nightly dreams, should quicken the blood in 
 his veins. 
 
 After the letter of his guardian to Mr. Stanley, he 
 waited impatiently for the answer ; and when it came, 
 written by Gertrude, he evinced so much pleasure that 
 Uncle Stephen looked upon him with astonishment. 
 
 " Don't you remember, sir," said the young man, archly, 
 " you assigned this young lady to me 1 " 
 
 " Humph ! " exclaimed Uncle Stephen, at the same 
 time chuckling to himself; " so, young man, that's the 
 way the land lies. Well, we shall see ; we shall see. 1 
 Though he would by no means have acknowledged it, 
 yet the interest displayed by Clarence was very pleasing 
 to his guardian. But he determined to test well her 
 character before he trusted her with the happiness of one 
 so dear to him as his adopted son. Of some of the meas- 
 ures he adopted to attain that end we will speak more 
 hereafter. To tell the truth, the thought that his residence 
 his ward in the family of his nephew, might result
 
 44 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 in the fulfilment of the old prophecy, had been nc slight 
 inducement to him to make such an arrangement. So 
 far it had proved satisfactory. 
 
 From their first introduction Gertrude had been mu< h 
 pleased with Mr. Sydney, and in his presence appeared 
 all that was amiable. We have seen he was much pre- 
 possessed in her favor, so that there appeared every prob- 
 ability that he would soon be deeply in love. Whatever 
 Uncle Stephen thought of her, he kept his opinion, as 
 yet, strictly to himself.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 v The seeds of first instructions are dropped into the deepest furrows. 
 
 Tupper. 
 
 IT was now mid winter. After the departure of Em- 
 ma and Edith, the family spent more of their time in 
 the large sunny parlor. The Hall was warmed through- 
 out by a furnace ; but in this apartment there was 
 always a cheerful fire blazing on the marble hearth. On 
 one side, close in the corner, stood the easy-chair which 
 had been assigned to Uncle Stephen. Here he read, 
 wrote or slept, just as he felt inclined. Here, too, after 
 dinner, he submitted to the tricks of his favorite ani- 
 mals, allowing them to take liberties which he would 
 have highly resented from any human being. 
 
 In the recess, formed by the bow-window, could be 
 seen at almost any hour of the day, Louis with his 
 young companion. The window was large, and alford- 
 ed ample room for the small table which stood partially 
 in front of the low divan occupying the space. Heavy 
 curtains fell in rich folds from the arch above, which 
 were usually looped aside to admit the cheerful rays of 
 the sun ; but by allowing them to fall to the floor, the 
 young people could be entirely secluded from observa- 
 tion. A table stood in the middle of the room near 
 which Mr. Stanley usually sat, when not in his study. 
 Here also his wife occupied herself with her reading 
 or sewing. 
 
 45
 
 46 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 The greater part of every day Clarence remained in 
 his own apartment, busy in his studies ; but whenever 
 he appeared below, his presence was hailed with joy not 
 only by the children, but by the older members of the 
 family. During his leisure hours Gertrude was as usual 
 in the parlor, engaged with her drawing or embroidery. 
 
 Though Alice was within a few days of the age of 
 Edith, yet both in person and manner she appeared 
 several years younger, and could hardly have b^en sup- 
 posed to be much older than Louis. Her form was 
 slight, and her motions as graceful as those of a young 
 fawn. Her hair was dark auburn, and being Darted 
 smoothly on her brow, hung in rich curls upon her neck 
 and shoulders. Her complexion was of transparent 
 whiteness, the blue veins being distinctly visible, while 
 the changing color was ever mantling her cheek. Her 
 eyes, when she was quiet, were hazel, and had a soft, 
 dreamy expression, though when she was animated, they 
 kindled an 1 dazzled by their dark brilliancy. But the 
 greatest charm in the face of Alice was her earnest 
 truthfulness, the calm purity of expression. And her 
 countenance was a true index of her character; for though 
 a simple, artless child of thirteen years, she was striving 
 after holiness. Every morning, in her room, which opened 
 out of the nursery occupied by Louis, she asked her 
 Father in Heaven to guide all her thoughts, words and 
 actions through the day, and to keep her from all evil. 
 When tempted to indulge in unkind feelings, she remem- 
 bered that an omniscient Eye was watching over her, 
 and she looked up for strength to overcome. She was 
 mturally quick to feel when wronged, and sometimes
 
 IN DISGUISE 
 
 her eye flashed, and bitter words of retaliation rose to 
 her. lips, but she suppressed them, and in one moment her 
 passion subsided, and she was able to speak calmly and 
 peaceably. Her companions often wondered at her self- 
 control, not realizing the source to which she looked fo 
 strength. Louis considered her the impersonation of al. 
 goodness, and her word as sacred. Noi was he alone 
 in this. If, as was often the case, any difficulty aws*- 
 between the sisters, she was often referred to by one o> 
 another, and her statement was received with perfco' 
 confidence. 
 
 Mr. Stanley had kept his promise to his first wife, and 
 so far Alice had received equal advantages with his own 
 children. She had regularly attended the Academy in 
 the village with Emma and Edith. In their absence 
 Louis was so dependent upon his little friend for com- 
 pany, that his father was puzzled to know what to do 
 with her. Mrs. Stanley proposed laying out a simple 
 course of study for them through the winter, to be pur- 
 sued under her instruction ; but her husband objected 
 entirely to the confinement this would cause her, and she 
 yielded to his argument that lessons in order to be of 
 use, ought to be regular. As her time was not at hr' 
 own command, this -regularity could not be obtained 
 She. then proposed that Gertrude should attend to them, 
 but when asked by her father to undertake the task, she 
 at once declined, saying she had neither talent nor in- 
 clination for school-keeping. But at length arrange- 
 ments were made which proved in the highest degree 
 satisfactory to both parents and scholars. 
 
 Happening to be sitting in the parlor one day
 
 45 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Uncle Stephen and Mrs. Stanley, Clarence, who sat react- 
 ing the daily paper, while the old gentleman was talcing 
 his siesta in his chair, had his attention arrested by a 
 monotonous sound from behind the curtain. His earnest 
 look of inquiry as he started from his paper, and leaned 
 forward to listen, brought a smile to the mouth of Ma- 
 rion, who said in a low voice, " It is Ally reciting her 
 ni story lesson to Louis. The child is very fond of study." 
 She advanced to the window, arid putting aside the heavy 
 folds, peeped cautiously into the recess, then motioned 
 Clarence to her side. 
 
 Sitting near each other on the divan, the children were 
 so intently occupied they did not perceive the observers. 
 Alice was repeating a page of history, which she did 
 with such purity of language, and such an entire appre- 
 ciation of the subject, that Clarence was delighted. Her 
 companion sat with his eyes intent on the page, his thin 
 fingers following line after line, as she went on with the 
 recitation. But his face was flushed with excitement, 
 and his brow was knit as if weary with the close at- 
 tention. 
 
 Mr. Sydney returned to his seat, and continued for a 
 tong time to gaze abstractedly into the fire. At length 
 fee asked, " Has she no other teacher ? " 
 
 Mrs. Stanley shook her head, and then related to him 
 ?er own wish with regard to them, to which her husband 
 objected. 
 
 " Would not Gertrude ? '' he asked. 
 
 " She did not feel inclined," was the serious reply. 
 
 " Well, then, for want of a better, I w T ill offer my 
 services."
 
 IN DISGUSR. 4.* 
 
 4 Are you in earnest?" inquired Mrs. Stanley, with ? t 
 bright smile. 
 
 " Entirely so, and am eager to enter upon my task." 
 
 "You are very kind," she replied, earnestly. "My 
 husband, as well as myself, will be under great obliga- 
 tions to you." 
 
 " I fancy," he responded, laughing, " that the obligation 
 will be on my side. It will be a pleasant recreation for 
 me. Suppose I commence at once, as the history 
 lesson appears to be finished. I should like to be 
 installed into office before Mr. Stanley returns from 
 the village." 
 
 " Alice," called Marion, "Alice. ! " 
 
 The curtain was put aside, and the child approached. 
 " How should you like a tutor, Ally ? " asked the lady, 
 taking her hand. 
 
 " I don't know, ma'am," she replied, returning the 
 smile. 
 
 " Mr. Sydney has kindly proposed to be your tutor ; 
 so, if you like the plan, he will commence at once." 
 
 Ally clapped her hands. " Mine me did you say 
 me, Mrs. Stanley?" 
 
 " Yes, I said you, my own little friend, Alice Carey," 
 answered Mrs. Stanley, kissing tenderly the animated 
 face, as she gazed so earnestly into her own. 
 
 Alice turned around to Clarence, as if to thank him. 
 but her joy was too gieat, and merely saying, " O, I 
 must tell Louis," she bounded to his side. 
 
 But the young man needed no words. The look of 
 delight which sparkled in every feature told plainly enough 
 how she regarded the proposition. In one moment she 
 5
 
 50 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 returned, and, advancing to the side of her new teachei 
 said, " Will you please to let Louis recite too ? " 
 
 " Yes, Louis too," he answered, for one instant detaiu- 
 ing her to gaze into her bright face. He had nevci 
 before thought her so beautiful, and it was a pleasant 
 sight to look upon. 
 
 Louis was exceedingly pleased with the idea of going 
 to school to Clarence, and sat quietly by while Ally ran 
 for her books to show him how far she had advanced. 
 He proposed to her to take a rapid review of her studies, 
 that he might better judge what course she ought to 
 pursue. He then took Louis on his knee, and asked 
 what he wished to study. 
 
 " I suppose I must go on with geography and arith- 
 metic," the child answered, with a sigh ; " but it makes 
 my head ache to study much, and I don't think anybody 
 but Ally could make me understand the sums." 
 
 " What study do you like best ? " 
 
 ".O, I like to hear Ally read the Bible stories, and then 
 she asks me questions, just as if it was geography or 
 spelling. I can answer all those questions." 
 
 Clarence glanced quickly at the young mother, as the 
 boy. having answered the inquiry, lay back against nis- 
 breast. " Well, Louis," he resumed, trying not. to betray 
 his emotion, " if Ally will let me join her class, you and 
 I will study the stories in the Bible." 
 
 Louis started from the kind arm thrown around him, 
 and looked eagerly in Clarence's face ; but, finding thai 
 he was serious, lay back again with a calm expression 
 of happiness upon every feature. 
 
 While this conversation was going on, Uncle Stephen
 
 IN DISGUISE. 51 
 
 awoke, and was gazing from one to another to ascertain, 
 if possible, the subject which so much interested them 
 As soon as Alice perceived it, she sprang to his side. 
 44 O, Uncle Stephen ! " she exclaimed through the tube, 
 " Clarence is going to be my teacher. I'm so happy ! " 
 
 " Ahem ' happy, are you ? Well, were you ever other- 
 wise ? tell me that," he added, catching her hand as she 
 wa? dancing away. 
 
 What, sir ? " 
 
 44 Are you ever unhappy ? " 
 
 Alice oast down her eyes, while a rosy blush spread 
 over her cheek ; but as Uncle Stephen was intent upon 
 hearing her reply, she reluctantly placed the ivory to her 
 mouth, and, in a low voice, answered, " Yes, sir." 
 
 " * Yes, sir,' " he repeated ; " and I should like to know 
 what cause you have to be unhappy." 
 
 The child cast a hurried glance of embarrassment 
 around the room, and then added, " Please, Uncle Ste- 
 phen, I had rather not tell now." 
 
 " But I wish to know now. You needn't fear to speak 
 before your friends." 
 
 She looked beseechingly at Clarence, who arose and 
 went to the farther end of the apartment, but not beyond 
 the sound of her voice. He was evidently anxious to 
 hear what she would say. 
 
 " Well, Ally," urged the old gentleman, impatiently. 
 
 Though the tears trembled in her eyes, she answered, 
 " 1 can't help being sorry when I have done wrong." 
 
 This reply, so different from what had been expected, 
 caused a momentary silence in the room. 
 
 44 And pray, then," continued the interrogator, " why
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 * 
 
 don't you leave off? Precious little need you have of 
 grief," he murmured. 
 
 "I do try to," was the almost inarticulate response, 
 while a tear trickled down her cheek ; " but I often get 
 angry, or feel wrong in here," and she laid her hand upon 
 her heart. 
 
 " And what do you do then ? " 
 
 " I ask God to take away my naughty feelings, and to 
 forgive me for the sake of Jesus Christ." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " Then I feel happier." 
 
 " How often do you feel angry ? every day ? " 
 
 " O, no ! not every day, not as often as I used to." 
 
 Why is that ? " 
 
 " I think God helps me to keep my resolutions." 
 
 " Alice," inquired Uncle Stephen, wiping his eyes, 
 " who taught you to pray ? " 
 
 " My mother, sir, and my father, before he died." 
 
 " When you pray again,, ask God to bless Uncle Ste- 
 phen," and the old gentleman, whose fountain of tears 
 seemed ever full, no longer able to repress his emotion, 
 wept without restraint. 
 
 Mrs, Stanley was much affected at the child, who had 
 unconsciously let her friends into the secret of her hope 
 and trust in her Maker, and revealed the struggles she 
 had with her own sinful nature, and her entire confidence 
 in her Saviour to wash away her guilt. She had no 
 opportunity of ascertaining the effect this had upon 
 Clarence, for he had walked into the recess, and was 
 complelely hidden from her view. Alice immediately 
 left the room, and was joined by Louis, who returned,
 
 IN- DISGUISE. 
 
 however, in a few moments, and whispered to Clarence, 
 asking him if he would please tell Uncle Stephen it 
 made Ally cry to ask her so many questions. 
 " Is she crying now ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I can't get. her to speak, she sobs so much." 
 " Tell your mother, and ask her to go to Alice." 
 It had, indeed, been painfully embarrassing to the child 
 to be obliged, as it were, to proclaim the inward conflicts 
 which had only before been known to her God. But 
 from this time the dear child found great comfort and 
 support in the sympathy of Mrs. Stanley. A holy tie 
 bound their hearts together. 
 
 The next day lessons were commenced in earnest, and 
 Alice applied herself diligently, determined to show her 
 teacher how much she prized his kindness. 
 
 Mr. Stanley was delighted with any plan whereby 
 the child could be kept with Louis without injury to 
 herself. 
 
 After dinner, Clarence asked Alice to come to his 
 study wdth her books, and Louis to accompany her, and 
 bring his marbles. 
 
 The boy looked in amazement. " Shall I need them 
 in the school ? " 
 
 " I'll have a game with you at recess," replied Clar- 
 ence, laughing. ',' Will you be my scholar too ? " he 
 whispered to Gertrude. 
 
 The young lady smiled, and her father looked much 
 pleased, as he always did ui any attention to his daugh- 
 ter from Clarence. " In what branch ? " she asked. 
 " In anything you please. ' 
 In drawing ? " 
 
 0*
 
 54 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " 1 fear I should make but a poor teacher of drawing 
 I am but a fourth-rate artist." 
 ' And I am but a beginner." 
 
 " I shall be but too happy to be of use ; " and so say- 
 ing he followed the children, where he was equally aston- 
 ished and delighted at the progress Alice had made, and 
 her great thirst for knowledge. He questioned her closely 
 to be sure that she fully understood the subjects of her 
 studies, and came to the conclusion that his first pupil 
 was possessed of a mind of uncommon force and clear- 
 ness. " Now, Louis," he said gayly, after he had given 
 Ally her lesson for the next day, let us have a game. 
 How many marbles have you ? " 
 " A whole bag full." 
 
 " Well, don't be partial ; divide them into three parts." 
 Alice put out her hand to assist him, but was re- 
 strained by a glance from her teacher, who said, pleas- 
 antly, " Be fair now, Louis, and give me as many as you 
 do Alice." 
 
 " I'll divide them equally." 
 
 These three parts proving too many for the game 
 Ularence wished to play, Louis divided them into four, 
 six, eight, twenty, multiplying and dividing until he 
 began to think his teacher was very difficult to please. 
 At length Clarence appeared satisfied, and the game 
 commenced, when the teacher became the pupil, and 
 begged Louis to impart some of his skill. The three 
 were laughing very heartily, when Uncle Stephen ap- 
 peared at the door. 
 
 " Hoity, toity ! fine school this," he muttered, as< 
 he stepped cautiously over the ring into the room.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 55 
 
 " Pretty work for a young lawyer. Who's scholar now, 
 pray ? " 
 
 " We have had a good game," said Clarence, rising 
 from his humble position on the floor. " Come, Alice, 
 now it's your turn to be teacher." 
 
 " She don't know anything about it," exclaimed Louis, 
 eagerly ; " but if you want her to hear you just as she 
 does me, 1 know she will, because she says she likes you 
 
 the best of any ." 
 
 Alice put her hand across his mouth, so that he could 
 say no more. Clarence gently took her hand, saying, 
 " Will you take me into your Bible-class, Ally ? " 
 " I don't know what you mean, sir." 
 " Louis says you hear him recite, after telling the 
 stories, and I think you could also instruct me." 
 
 His manner was very serious, and the poor child did 
 not know what to say. She looked so much embar- 
 rassed that he continued : " Perhaps we will postpone 
 our Bible lesson until Sabbath afternoon," and she left 
 the room. 
 
 " Rather think," said Uncle Stephen, when they were 
 alone, " you'll get as much as you'll give." 
 
 "I feel that i shall be well repaid," replied Clarence; 
 u she has a very bright mind.' ' 
 
 " And a very pure heart," added his companion. 
 " Strange, how often she reminds me of my sister." 
 
 "What kind of a woman is her mother? I can't 
 make much of her. She came to thank me for the in- 
 terest I took in her child ; but she did it in such a strange 
 way, that I could hardly understand her."
 
 56 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGKL 
 
 " She was formerly a very good woman. 1 have 
 hardly scon her since we have beerrhere." 
 
 " Mrs. Stanley told me she thought her partially in- 
 sane. She was very anxious for Edith to go away, say- 
 ing she ought to be under restraint, as she never was a( 
 home ; and now she. is constantly fretting that Alice 
 didn't go too. She told Mrs. Stanley yesterday, that the 
 first wife promised that Alice sli.ou.ld have as good an 
 education as her own daughters. However, she seemed 
 grateful that I would teach her. Poor Alice ! Her fate 
 will be a hard one if she should be deprived of her 
 friends. She has been educated like a lady, is refined 
 and cultivated in her tastes, and therefore but ill-pre- 
 pared to struggle with the world. 
 
 " Ahem ! we'll see to that," said Uncle Stephen, em- 
 phatically. 
 
 Weeks flew rapidly by. Alice pursued her studies 
 with great ardor, while Louis took lessons in arithmetic, 
 geography, and grammar, never complaining of weari- 
 ness, but thinking all the time that he was only enjoying 
 some new game. Gertrude had commenced her lessons 
 in drawing, but found no interest in them unbss Mr. 
 Clarence Sydney were sitting by her side ; and, in truth, 
 he appeared nothing loth to do so. He patiently taught 
 her the same lessons day after day, instructing her 1o 
 shade a little heavier here, and a little lighter there. 
 He praised her success, and where he pointed out a fault, 
 he did it so tenderly, that she was almost inclined to 
 commit the error again. On the whole, Clarence had 
 never passed so happy a winter, and he loved to bring 
 the blushes to the cheeks of Gertrude by telling her so.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 51 
 
 Mrs. Stanley alone looked pale and weary. Her coun- 
 tenance had gradually assumed a seriousness of ex- 
 pression, very foreign to the cheerfulness she exhibited 
 when she first came to Lindenwood. Mr. Stanley no- 
 ticed it, and it annoyed him. He supposed it to result 
 from disappointment in her connection with himself. This 
 rendered him somewhat reserved in his manner toward 
 her, and caused her to retire more within herself. She 
 usually now passed the morning in her own room, and 
 only joined the family when they were all together. 
 
 Uncle Stephen, more than any other person, appeared 
 to notice the change in Mrs. Stanley, and conversed with 
 her more than with the rest of the family. 
 
 One day when Clarence had been seated near Ger- 
 trude, talking with her in a low voice for some time, she 
 looked up and perceived the eye of her mother fixed upon 
 them with a sad, grave expression. Soon after, the young 
 man arose and left the room. Gertrude was very angry, 
 and began to talk to her mother in a reproachful manner, 
 saying, " I have seen you try to influence Mr. Sydney 
 against me, and take every means to prevent our being 
 together. When we are, you watch us with Argus eyes, 
 as if you begrudged us the pleasure." 
 
 " You are angry, Gertrude," responded Mrs. Stanley, 
 * or you would not talk so. I have never indulged such 
 
 feeling for a moment. On the contrary, I have been 
 pleased with his attention to you. But what would he, 
 what would your father say, to hear you address me in 
 such a manner ? ' ; 
 
 " Father, indeed ! " exclaimed Gertrude, scornfully. " I 
 fancy father has enough to do to bear his own trials! '
 
 58 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " To what trials do you refer ? " asked her mother, net 
 face growing very pale. 
 
 " The trial of finding out that he has married a mere 
 nobody ! " retorted she, angrily. The moment she had 
 spoken, the young girl keenly regretted her hasty words, 
 and would gladly have recalled them ; for she was really 
 frightened at the result. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley tried to speak, but was unable, and fell 
 back faint and trembling in her chair. 
 
 Uncle Stephen started from his seat, exclaiming an- 
 grily, " Begone, girl ! What have you been doing to 
 your mother ? Begone, I say ! " He rang the bell furi- 
 ously. Mrs. Carey happened to be in the house, and 
 when she heard what had occurred, came directly with 
 sal-volatile and stimulants, by means of which the un- 
 happy lady soon recovered her consciousness, and was 
 assisted to her chamber ; and the old gentleman retired 
 to his room in great excitement, muttering as he went, 
 " What fools we make of ourselves. I'll have my eyes 
 open, if I can't hear. Yes, and I'll make good use of 
 them after this. Begone, sir!" he said, to one of the 
 monkeys that had escaped from his confinement, " I've 
 no time for fooling." 
 
 Clarence thought his guardian must be more than 
 commonly absorbed in business, when he stopped from 
 his walk across the room, and encountered the expression 
 of the angry man. " I wanted to talk with you," he 
 began, " upon a subject intimately connected 
 
 " Can't attend to it, sir," interrupted Uncle Stephen. 
 u Other business on hand." He jerked a chair from the 
 vail, and threw himself into it, where he sat muttering
 
 IN DISGUISE. 59 
 
 unintelligibly for ten minutes. Though his companion 
 listened eagerly, he could get no clue to the cause of this 
 sudden anger. He left him reading quietly in the parlor, 
 and now he was more excited than he ever remembered 
 to have seen him. At length Uncle Stephen said, in a 
 subdued voice, " Call Alice ; I want Alice." 
 
 " Cannot I do what you wish ? " asked Clarence, ie- 
 spectfully. 
 
 " I feel angry, and 1 want her to come and pray for 
 me." 
 
 " Dear Uncle Stephen," replied the young man, bow- 
 ing reverently before him ; " you taught me to pray. 
 Can't you pray now ? " 
 
 Uncle Stephen made an effort to control himself, and, 
 covering his face with his hands, sat thus for a time in 
 silence. At length he motioned his ward to sit by him, 
 and asked, " Did you want my advice on any important 
 subject ? 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Clarence, though somewhat embar- 
 rassed. 
 
 " Well, wait until to-morrow. I'll talk with you then. 
 One piece of advice you need, and I'll give it now : 
 " Keep //our eyes open ! " 
 
 The following day the young man again introduced 
 the subject, and wished Uncle Stephen's approbation of 
 his choice of a companion, telling him he loved Gertrude, 
 and believed her possessed of all the qualifications he 
 could ask to make him happy. 
 
 " What qualities do you consider necessary, young 
 man ? " asked Uncle Stephen, rather gruffly. 
 
 " Why, she is well educated, of a good rnind, has an
 
 f>0 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 amiable disposition, and well, she is very handsome 
 and very lovely." 
 
 " Handsome is that handsome does," muttered Uncle 
 Stephen, in an under tone ; then, speaking aloud, he con- 
 tinued, " Well, if she is all that, I'll settle a cool hundred 
 thousand upon her the day you're married !" and, tho 
 goggles being off, disclosed his eyes twinkling with sup- 
 pressed mirth. 
 
 Clarence arose, stood before his guardian, and began 
 warmly to express his gratitude ; but Uncle Stephen cut 
 him short. " You've got first to prove to me that she has 
 these qualifications." 
 
 " That will not be difficult, I think. You are an excel- 
 lent judge of character. How long will it take to prove 
 this to you ? " 
 
 " Three years," replied the old gentleman, decidedly. 
 
 " Three years ! " repeated Clarence, with dismay de- 
 picted on every feature. 
 
 " Not a day less. You know nothing at. all of her 
 character. Try her, prove her well. If she comes out 
 scathless from the trial, I'll give her to you, with my 
 blessing." 
 
 It required many arguments, however, to persuade 
 Clarence that he was not perfectly acquainted with the 
 character of the one he loved. But at length he con- 
 sented to say nothing of his affection to the object of it, 
 but to do as his uncle wished, and watch her closely, 
 fully assured that he should find her in reality all that she 
 was in appearance, and believing, when he did so, that 
 he should be spared so long a term of probation. 
 
 Uncle Stephen was perfectly satisfied, and gave Clar-
 
 IN DISGUISE. 61 
 
 ence his hand, saying, " That is enough. I can depend 
 upon your honor. It has been the favorite wish of my 
 life, since I adopted you, to unite you with one of my 
 nieces." 
 
 " Surely," interrupted his ward, " there can be no com- 
 parison between Gertrude and her sisters." 
 
 " I acknowledge Emma is not so prepossessing in her 
 appearance ; but she may have a good heart, and Edith 
 is " 
 
 " A very shrew. Deliver me from the taming of her."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " None but an author knows an author's cares, 
 Or fa.ncy's fondness for the child she bears." 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 MRS. STANLEY did not leave her room for several days , 
 but Alice and her mother were unwearied in their atten- 
 tions. Mr. Stanley really loved his wife, and he went 
 often to her room to sit by her, as she lay weary and 
 faint upon her couch ; but every time he did so, his pres- 
 ence seemed to add greatly to her distress, and caused 
 her tears to flow more freely. He knew not what to 
 think. If Edith had been at home, he would have sup- 
 posed she had wounded her mother's feelings. It could 
 be nothing connected with his children, for only the day 
 before she was taken sick, she had shown him, with ap- 
 parent pleasure, a letter from Emma, with whom she 
 kept up a regular correspondence ; and in it the young 
 girl expressed much affection for her mother. Alice and 
 Louis were, as she had often told him, a real comfort to 
 nrr. He would as soon suspect himself of intentionally 
 wounding the feelings of his wife, as of believing Ger- 
 trude capable of it ; for, in her father's presence, she was 
 invariably polite to her mother. As day after day passed 
 without abating the distress of his wife, he at length 
 became seriously alarmed, and retired -to his study to 
 consider what he had better do. He walked back and 
 forth, reviewing his married life. First he called to mind 
 
 62
 
 THE HOL'SKHOLD ANGEL IN DISGUISE. 63 
 
 the years he had lived with his Emma his first love ; 
 then his meeting with Marion. How lovely she had 
 appeared to him. He could distinctly see her as she 
 looked when he went to bring her to Lindenwood. Hou 
 bright and happy her face ; how warm and impulsive he r 
 manner ! But all was now changed. Some great sorrow 
 appeared to have fallen upon her, and he became con- 
 vinced it was connected with himself. Could he have 
 misunderstood her character ? Had he not been too 
 much absorbed in his cares, and too little attentive to 
 her, who had left beloved friends and delightful society ! 
 Ah ! he little realized how cold and reserved he appeared 
 to Marion, who had lived in the closest companionship 
 and confidence of her father, had been accustomed to 
 receive his morning and evening caresses, to share with 
 him every joy and sorrow which filled her heart, or that 
 this coldness, for which Gertrude had so unfeelingly ac- 
 counted, was breaking her heart. 
 
 Having in vain sought, by himself, a sufficient cause 
 for the sadness and depression of his wife, he determined 
 to seek her once more, and endeavor to regain her confi- 
 dence. He w r ondered he had not before done this, and 
 immediately ascended to her chamber. As he silently 
 entered, he saw her sitting in an easy-chair, the back of 
 which was toward the door. He had taken but one step 
 into the room, when his attention was arrested by her 
 violent sobs. He advanced toward her ; but her words 
 left him powerless. She was holding a miniature, which 
 he could see was richly set, to her lips ; then her tears 
 rained upon it as she exclaimed, in heart-broken accents, 
 " Oh ! what shall I what can I, do ? Oh ! that my aear
 
 64 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 father were alive to advise me ! " Then, again and again 
 kissing the miniature, she sobbed out, " And I loved hire 
 so dearly " when, starting as if she heard a sound, she 
 thrust the precious treasure into her bosom. 
 
 He had heard enough. The mystery was revealed 
 Marion loved another. He returned silently to his study 
 where he sat for a time with his face buried in his hands. 
 He, too, asked himself again and again, " What can 1 
 do ? " There was but one pers6n in the family who 
 could answer, and that one was Alice. Young as she 
 was, she had watched, with sympathizing tears, the sor- 
 row of the gentle wife, who had been so true a friend to 
 her. She had heard the cruel taunts of Gertrude^ and 
 seen their withering effect. She had observed the slight 
 misunderstandings between the husband and wife, 
 through the influence of the same person. She knew, 
 too, how tenderly, how truly Marion loved him, and how 
 wounding to her feelings had been many occurrences 
 unnoticed by others. But Alice could say nothing ; she 
 could only, by her winning gentleness, her ardent affec- 
 tion, soothe the grief which she could not remove. 
 
 When Mr. Stanley was called to tea, his anger had 
 entirely subsided. His love and pity for his wife deter- 
 mined him to try, at least, to make her happy, even 
 though she loved another. 
 
 T\vo days later, Marion appeared below. Though 
 extremely pale, yet there was a light in her eye, and a 
 look of firm resolve, which had not shone there for many 
 weeks. The family gazed upon her with wonder. From 
 this time she gradually gained her strength ; and, though 
 never gay, she went resolutely on in the performance of
 
 N DISGUISE. 65 
 
 her duties. With the exception of Gtrtrude, none of 
 them knew the cause of her illness ; nor did she under- 
 stand the secret motive which now enabled her, though 
 born) down with sorrow, to go boldly on. 
 
 But they were not all destined to remain in ignorance. 
 Marion needed a confidant, and she chose Uncle Stephen. 
 She chose wisely. 
 
 One day after dinner, when the old gentleman had 
 enjoyed a lively game with Polio and Sally, the mon- 
 keys, and had ordered them back to their confinement, 
 no one else being present, Mrs. Stanley begged him to 
 allow her to go to his room, as she had something she 
 wished to ask him. He arose at once, and accompanied 
 her to his parlor above stairs, when he unceremoniously 
 dismissed Clarence and his pupils to the room below. 
 
 Taking a low seat, Mrs. Stanley drew it near him, 
 where she could conveniently converse through the tube, 
 and unfolded her plan for the future. She confessed 
 that she had felt a weight upon her spirits ; " but," she 
 added, " I am resolved to show my husband I am not 
 the senseless creature I am told he deems me. God has 
 given me powers, and I will use them. I have already 
 laid out a plan of a work which I intend to write ; but, 
 constituted as I am, it is necessary for me to have a 
 friend to whom I can confide my plan, talk about it, 
 read my manuscript as I write, and ask for revision. 
 Will you be that friend ? Will you, for the time, takrc 
 the place of the father I have lost ? " 
 
 Uncle Stephen wiped his eyes, used his handkerchief 
 with great energy, and then said, " I will, and may God 
 bless you in your noble resolve." From this hour the 
 6*
 
 66 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 young wife found a true friend in Uncle Stephen. Man) 
 a time, when weary and faint in well-doing, did she seek 
 his room, and never failed to receive the encouragement 
 and sympathy which she needed. Her literary labors 
 were of benefit to her, by allowing her no time to brood 
 over her own trials, for Gertrude, though more cautions 
 than before, yet often, by her unkindness, brought tears 
 to her mother's eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was often at a loss to understand her 
 husband. She frequently looked up to meet his eye 
 fixed upon her with sadness, and sometimes as if he 
 read her very soul ; and at such times she was conscious 
 of appearing much embarrassed. 
 
 She had an object, and was determined to win back 
 the love she supposed she had lost. 
 
 Early in the spring, the whole family were startled by 
 Uncle Stephen, who, after receiving his daily packet of 
 letters, opened one containing intelligence which greatly 
 excited him. He sprang from his chair, threw down his 
 speaking trumpet, overset everything which stood in his 
 way to the door, then ran up stairs, calling, " Clarence! 
 Clarence ! " 
 
 It was not more than fifteen minutes before Clarence 
 came down, equipped for a trip to New York, saying, 
 '* Uncle Stephen intended to go, but he has at lengih 
 allowed me to take his place." He merely stopped to 
 say good bye, and a few whispered words to Gertrude, 
 before he hastened away in order to reach the boat. 
 
 Nothing could be ascertained from Uncle Stephen as 
 to the cause of Clarence's sudden departure, or the time 
 when he might be expected to return. Gertrude, in her
 
 IN DISGUISE. 6? 
 
 anxiety, even condescended to employ her mother to 
 obtain for her the desired information, but in vain. Tlie 
 old gentleman was restless and excitable until the third 
 
 O 
 
 day after his ward's departure, when a letter was received 
 from him which appeared greatly to relieve his anxiety, 
 though he said not a word of its contents. After this, a 
 letter came from Clarence every day for more than two 
 weeks, until one morning Uncle Stephen announced to 
 Mrs. Stanley that Clarence would soon return, if it 
 would be convenient for them to receive a young man 
 with him. Assured that it would, he then told her that 
 the first letter he received was from a physician in New 
 York, containing intelligence of the dangerous illness of 
 a young man whom he had known in India. He had 
 now recovered sufficiently to be removed, and Clarence, 
 impatient to return, had asked permission to bring him 
 to Linden wood. 
 
 Mr. Stanley answered the letter, urging them to come 
 at once. He also asked Clarence to take the care of his 
 daughters, who were to return from school, directing him 
 where they would meet him. In three days after this, 
 the party arrived, consisting of Emma, Edith, Mr. Syd- 
 ney, and Mr. Huntington, who was still an invalid. 
 Uncle Stephen received the latter with the-affection of a 
 parent. 
 
 The young girls could hardly express their pleasure at 
 being once more at. home. Emma was really warm in 
 her embrace of her mother ; and Edith, who had grown 
 to be taller than her sister, appeared much improved. 
 Her father and mother gazed at her in surprise. She no 
 longer seemed a child. Her hair, which she had formerly
 
 I)'- 1 THE HOUSEHOLD 
 
 worn braided in her neck, was now twisted into a ki ot. 
 and fastened with a comb, making her appear like a 
 young lady of seventeen. While at school, she had 
 been much praised for her beauty; and, indeed, her lu.xu- 
 riant hair and brilliant color gave her some claims to be 
 considered handsome. She kissed Alice as she would 
 have petted a child, saying, " I do believe you will never 
 outgrow that baby look." 
 
 Marion smiled, and hoped not. Louis was delighted 
 to see his sisters, and, while Alfred Huntington remained, 
 the time passed pleasantly. 
 
 Alice went on with her lessons ; and her teacher, 
 willing to ascertain whether she had advanced as far as 
 Edith, playfully proposed to examine the latter in the 
 branches she had pursued at school. There was no 
 shade of diffidence in the character of Edith, and she 
 willingly consented that either he or his friend should do 
 so. Young Huntington had from the first looked with 
 an admiring eye upon Edith, so free, open and frank she 
 appeared. He compared her with others whom he had 
 met, and thought her very superior to them. Clarence 
 found she had pursued a great variety of studies, and 
 that she had a skilful way of covering her deficiencies 
 by asking questions connected with the subject. To an 
 interested observer like Mr. Huntington, this appeared 
 to show a great desire for knowledge ; and he did not 
 hesitate to express his admiration in looks, if not in 
 words. But upon Mr. Sydney the impression was dif- 
 ferent. He perceived at once that some faculties of hei 
 mind were very mature, that she had a smattering of 
 many subjects, but in force and thoroughness could not
 
 IN DISGUISE. 69 
 
 be compared with Alice. Edith was far in advance of 
 his pupil in her knowledge of the world, and in the 
 variety of her accomplishments ; yet Alice had incom- 
 parably the advantage in the ease of her manners, and 
 in the winning grace and modesty of her expression. 
 Mr. Huntington regarded her as a lovely child, but as 
 yet he had found no opportunity of comparing their 
 dispositions. 
 
 In the meantime, Mrs. Stanley progressed rapidly with 
 her tale. She lived in it, and wove into it many scenes 
 in her own life ; and so full was it of thrilling pathos, 
 so entirely did she identify herself with the characters of 
 her story, that many pages were blotted with her sympa- 
 thizing tears, while, as she read, Uncle Stephen laughed 
 and wept. So interested did he become in this tale that 
 he could allow her to write but a few pages before she 
 read to him. His approbation stimulated her efforts, 
 and rendered her more hopeful of success. 
 
 After remaining at home a month, Emma and her 
 sister returned to school. During this visit, Mrs. Stanley 
 took great delight in the society of Emma, and parted 
 from her with regret. This dear child confessed that 
 upon her first receiving the affectionate note of he? 
 mother, which accompanied the valuable bracelet, she 
 was overcome with shame and mortification at her un 
 kindness, and that she then determined to become ai 
 affectionate and dutiful daughter. While at home, she 
 listened with unaffected delight to nurse Carey's account 
 of the goodness of her mother. " I am sure," said the 
 nurse, as she was in Emma's room preparing her dresses 
 for her return, " I never can be grateful enough for the
 
 70 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 kindness she has shown Alice, who loves her more hail 
 any other person living, unless it be Louis." 
 
 " Not more than she does her own mother," urged 
 Emma, laughing. 
 
 Putting her apron to her eyes, Mrs. Carey answered, 
 M You know she would have felt differently if I'd brought 
 her up. She takes naturally to the family where she'a 
 always been treated like a jhild. If your own mother, 
 who was so fond of her, had lived, she couldn't have 
 been more kindly cared for." 
 
 Emma asked her mother if there was an engagement 
 between Clarence and Gertrude, adding, " She will tell 
 me nothing, but it's easy to see that she loves him." 
 
 " I think," replied Marion, " there is an understanding 
 between them, though there may not be any positive 
 engagement"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 * This is some token from a newer friend " Shakspeare. 
 
 As the warm weather came on, Lewis failed in strength 
 His lessons were discontinued, and he was encouraged 
 to be out in the open air. His father purchased a small 
 pony for his exclusive use ; but the boy could hardly be 
 persuaded to ride, because Alice could not accompany 
 him. 
 
 It was a mild, pleasant morning in the latter part of 
 May. The physician on the previous day had expressed 
 his wish for Louis to be on horseback as much as possi- 
 ble; and Mrs. Stanley was trying to persuade him to 
 overcome his languor, rise from the sofa, and go out into 
 the clear air. 
 
 " If Alice could go too," he began as usual, when 
 with a perfect shout of delight, the person named came 
 bounding into the room. She was breathless with her 
 haste and joy, and catching the hand of the sick boy, 
 pulled him quickly to the window. There stood the 
 Shetland pony, and by its side a beautiful white horse, 
 saddled and bridled, pawing and stamping with impa- 
 tience at the delay. 
 
 Louis gazed at the horse, and Alice gazed at Louis 
 when, with a spring from the floor, she exclaimed, "that's 
 niine, dear, dear Louis! Now, won't we have a fine 
 lime? Oh! how very glad I am!" 
 
 71
 
 72 THE HOUSEHOLD ANOFL 
 
 " But where did it come from ? '' asked Mrs. Stanley, 
 who, with the whole grorp, had approached the front 
 window. 
 
 " A h'kely story ! " exclp.imed Gertrude, scornfully. 
 K What makes you think it is yours?" she added, 
 mickly changing her tone, as she saw the eyes of Clar- 
 ence fixed upon her in astonishment. 
 
 " Because a m?n brou^Uc it, and the letter said so," 
 epiied Alice, her wh^le countenance beaming with ani- 
 mation. 
 
 " What's all this about ? " inquired Uncle Stephen, 
 'coking at Clarence for an explanation. 
 
 The young man smiled as he pointed to Alice, who 
 eagerly took the trumpet and said, joyfully, " Oh, Uncle 
 Stephen ! somebody has given me a beautiful white 
 horse ! and we can't find out who it is." 
 
 " Humph ! what can you do with a horse, I should 
 ike to know ? You never were on a horse in your life." 
 
 " Oh yes, sir ! " replied Alice, in her enthusiasm speak- 
 ing very loud, " I have rode on Louis's pony." 
 
 " But Clarence led you," suggested the boy. 
 
 " Well, now I can learn to ride myself, and you'll like 
 to ride a great deal, now you'll have me for company ; " 
 and she joyfully kissed his pale brow again and again. 
 
 When they turned from the. window, they saw Mr. 
 Stanley behind them with an open letter in his hand, 
 from which he had taken a bank-bill. He had a most 
 mysterious air, and waited, without speaking, until Ger- 
 trude said, " Is it so, papa ? is the horse sent to Alice?" 
 
 " Yes ; Alice has strong friends somewhere, certainly 
 wealthy ones. A man came this morning, leading this
 
 IN DISGIMSF. /O 
 
 beautiful animal, and having asked for me, gave me a 
 sealed" envelope, directed to my care ; I opened it, and 
 found another addressed to Miss Alice Carey, Linden- 
 wood Hall. This I called her to open, when, just glamv- 
 ing at its contents, she thrust it into my hand and sprang 
 away, saying, " Oh, I must tell Louis ! " 
 
 " Shall I read your letter for you ? " he asked, turning 
 :o the child. 
 
 " Yes, sir, please do." 
 
 " Here it is : 'A token of respect and affection to 
 Alice Carey, from an obliged friend. Ask Mrs. Stanley 
 to purchase a suitable riding-dress with the enclosed.'" 
 Here Mr. Stanley gave his wife the bill, which was upon 
 i New York bank for fifty dollars. 
 
 Uncle Stephen had returned to his chair, and was very 
 deliberately opening the last evening paper. Alice took 
 her letter, and advanced to show it to him. " Look here, 
 Uncle Stephen ! " she began, holding out the letter. 
 
 " I'm too busy, now, child," he answered, shaking his 
 head ; and though very much disappointed that he did 
 not, appear to share her joy, she turned away from him. 
 Her clear, dark eyes shone brightly, the rosy tint had 
 deepened on her cheeks, while her small mouth was 
 wreathed in smiles. Mrs. Stanley glanced at Clarenc^, 
 who stood gazing at the little figure, and saw that he, 
 too, appreciated her loveliness. Gertrude saw the glance, 
 and, for the first time, a feeling of dislike toward Alice 
 sprang up in her heart. Knowing she could take no 
 surer way of annoying the donor, whom she was sure 
 was Uncle Stephen, she advanced toward him, and 
 taking the trumpet said, in a voice loud enough to call 
 
 7
 
 74 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 the attention of all present : " Alice ought to be very 
 thankful for your valuable gift. Perhaps, as she grows 
 older she may appreciate the kindness which has singled 
 her out as the receiver of your bounty." 
 
 Uncle Stephen was very angry ; at least his height- 
 ened color, and the impatient stamp of his foot made 
 him appear so. He started to his feet, and giving the 
 cricket before him a violent push, exclaimed, " Who said 
 I had bestowed any bounty upon her, or any one else ? " 
 
 Gertrude was about to make an angry reply ; but she 
 saw Clarence, whom she thought had left the room, 
 standing by Alice in the door-way, and she turned 
 haughtily to the window. 
 
 " Could it be Uncle Stephen," thought Alice, " who 
 gave it to me?" She started forward, then checked 
 herself, and finally followed her teacher to the door, 
 where Louis was impatiently calling her to come and 
 try her new pony. 
 
 Gertrude retired to her own room ; but the sight from 
 her windows did not by any means diminish the anger 
 she felt toward Alice. 
 
 Clarence mounted the horse, rode him gently around 
 the yard, trotted and cantered him, and finding him to 
 be perfectly gentle, placed Alice upon his back. Louis 
 followed, laughing gayly at her fear, for the horse, though 
 not a large one, was so much higher than the Shetland 
 pony, that she trembled excessively. Clarence, however, 
 encouraged her, walked by her side back and forth, until 
 she became used to the height. He then asked if she 
 would venture to have the animal trot, saying he would 
 still hold the rein.
 
 IN DISGU1SL. 75 
 
 Though very pale, Alice said, " Yes ; " and after a few 
 moments, thought she could go alone. He showed her 
 how to hold the rein, made her sit erect, bearing upon 
 the stirrup, and then let her go, following closely behind 
 her. She rode down to the gate and then stopped, but 
 her kind teacher soon came up and taught her to turn 
 about, when she trotted briskly up to the door. She then 
 begged Clarence to sit upon the step while she rode 
 alone, and this time she and Louis trotted side by side 
 down the gravelled road, turned, and trotted up to the 
 door, when the young gentleman told her she had done 
 bravely, and Mrs. Stanley from the window nodded her 
 approval. 
 
 " I wish Uncle Stephen could see me," said the happy 
 girl, and looking up to his window she saw him, laugh- 
 ing heartily at her success. 
 
 The more she thought of it, the more was Alice con- 
 vinced that Uncle Stephen was the donor ; but she waa 
 sorely puzzled in what way to express her thanks with- 
 out giving offence. At length, after revolving the subject 
 until a very late hour at night, she resolved upon a method 
 by which she. might do so. She was in the habit of 
 writing two compositions every week ; sometimes it was 
 an abstract of her lesson, sometimes a simple tale, and 
 often a Bible character. Her next, she resolved, should 
 be a letter addressed " To my unknown benefactor." 
 This she did in a neatly-written note of two pages, and, 
 having shown it to Mrs. Stanley, and received her kind 
 approval, she carried it to the parlor, and, watching her 
 opportunity when she found Uncle Stephen ulonr, she 
 told him she had a letter which she wished to show him,
 
 76 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 before she gave it to her teacher for a theme. The old 
 gentleman pushed back his glasses, and took the envel 
 ope, little thinking it was addressed to him-elf. He 
 ojK'iH-d it. commenced reading, then gave a start of sui 
 piise; Lut, seeing Alice standing anxiously before him, 
 he read it through with no other comment than by fre- 
 quently wiping his eyes. He then carefully folded it, and 
 returned it to her, saying, '' Good child, good child" in 
 such a tone of tenderness, that she knew her humble 
 thanks had been accepted. When she presented the com- 
 position to her teacher, he did not, as was usually the 
 case, return it to her with corrections ; and, when she 
 asked for it, told her he had forwarded it according to the 
 address. 
 
 During the weeks following, the children, as they were 
 called in the family, improved the fine weather until 
 Alice became quite an accomplished equestrian, Clar- 
 ence often obtaining another horse, and accompanying 
 them to the village. But while this exercise was of great 
 service to the young girl, Louis appeared more and more 
 exhausted, until at length even his physician became con- 
 vinced he could not endure the fatigue. Dr. Jenks then 
 recommended a change of air, and Mrs. Stanley pro- 
 posed starting with him and Alice on a journey to N . 
 
 Her husband accompanied her, and after waiting a few 
 days, and finding the change likely to prove beneficial, he 
 returned home, leaving her to prolong her visit while the 
 poor boy continued better. It was his first journey, and 
 Louis was not soon weary of talking with Alice, about 
 places of interest they had passed. He gained rapidly 
 in strength, and was able to ride almost every day. His
 
 IN DISGIISK. 77 
 
 mother went with him to C , her native place, visited 
 
 the house where he was born, pointed out to him and 
 his companion me study where her father wrote his ser- 
 mons, received the calls of his people, and heard her re- 
 citations. She showed them the garden, and arbor, with 
 its clustering vines trained by her own hand. Nor did 
 she fail to visit with them the graves of her father and 
 mother. , 
 
 Seated on a low mound, Mrs. Stanley called to mind 
 the early teachings of her beloved father, the only parent 
 she had known, and repeated them to her attentive listen- 
 ers. She reminded them of the home, the Saviour has pro- 
 vided for all those who humbly believe on him, who love 
 him, and try to do his will. Pointing to the grave before 
 her, she told them how she had longed to lie down there 
 by his side. " But," she added, " that desire was a mur- 
 mur against the kind hand that had for so many years 
 given me a teacher, guide, and friend. Long ago I 
 learned to thank Him that my prayer was not answered. 
 I have now many dear ones for whom I desire to live and 
 labor ; " and she drew the children nearer to her side. " 1 
 want you, my dear Alice," she continued, " to remember 
 that God sends no more trials than he sees to be needful 
 for us, and no more than he will give us strength to en- 
 dure, if we call upon him. Sometimes he takes away 
 our friends, sometimes deprives vis of the affections we 
 most nighly prize, lest we should make idols of them, 
 and forget him, the author of all our blessings. Let us 
 trust him, feeling sure that he doeth all things well ; and 
 let us prepare for that mansion above the skies, where
 
 78 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 there will be no more sorrow, no more tears, but when 
 all will be free from sin." 
 
 " Mother," said Louis, gazing for one moment into hei 
 iace, and then letting his eye rest upon the graves " I 
 shall go there very soon. I often dream about it." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley pressed the dear child to her heart, am! 
 felt that it would indeed be a trial to part witli him, while 
 Alice caught his hand, her eyes filling with tears. " Don't, 
 Louis, don't say so ! You know I couldn't do without 
 you ; and you are a great deal better." 
 
 " Yes," replied Louis, " I'm better ; but it wont iast 
 long. I lie awake at night, and think about it ; and 
 sometimes I'm glad, because then I shall never do wrong 
 any more. And now it's so hard not to feel impatient 
 when my head aches ; but," and he drew a long sigh, 
 " sometimes I feel afraid to die and lie in the cold 
 grave." 
 
 " My own dear Louis ! " exclaimed his mother, while 
 her tears fell thick and fast, " you will not lie there. You 
 will be with God, with your Saviour, with your dear 
 mother. It is only this poor feeble body which will be 
 put in the grave to rest until the morning of the resur- 
 rection." 
 
 " Alice reads to me about heaven., ' replied the boy> 
 raising his eyes to the clear azure sky above them, " j 
 love to hear about it." 
 
 " Oh, Louis ! " exclaimed the weeping girl, " I never 
 knew why you wanted me to read those chapters in the 
 Revelation so many times. Y 7 ou didn't tell me you were 
 going there so soon." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was received with great joy by her old
 
 IN DISGUISE. 79 
 
 friends, and she passed nearly two weeks among them, 
 going from house to house with her children. On the 
 
 evening before she returned to N , she once more bent 
 
 her steps to the quiet cemetery, and there alone, on her 
 knees, at the side of her dear father's grave, she implored 
 wisdom to guide her in all her efforts to do good. She 
 prayed that her faith and patience might never fail, but 
 that all her afflictions might be so improved, as to become 
 blessings to her soul. She besought her heavenly Father 
 to grant unto her the unspeakable satisfaction of seeing 
 her dear husband a child of God, and all the children 
 following the example of their brother, and looking for- 
 ward to an inheritance in the skies. 
 
 Louis seemed so much benefited by the journey, and 
 his constant exercise in the open air, that Mrs. Stanley 
 postponed, from time to time, her intended departure. It 
 was the last week in August when she wrote her hus- 
 band that she should return in a few days. She had not 
 yet sent the letter to the office, when she was summoned 
 to the parlor by her kind friend, Mrs. Churchill, and there 
 found Louis tightly clasped in the arms of Mr. Sydney. 
 He had been absent from Lindenwood for six weeks, 
 1 ravelling with Uncle Stephen. 
 
 " And where is the good man, now ? " asked Marion, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " He is at the public house, but a few rods distant." 
 " That is, indeed, good news ! Will he return directly 
 home, from here ? " 
 
 " He says he cannot decide until he has seen you." 
 Mrs. Stanley started. " 1 will go to him at once. I 
 have a letter written to my husband, informing him of
 
 80 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 my intention to leave here in a few days. Perhaps it will 
 not be necessary to send it." 
 
 " Is Alice well ? " asked Clarence, when she had re- 
 turned to the room, equipped for the walk. 
 
 " Perfectly so, here she comes, up the yard." 
 The young man started toward the window. Alice 
 had thrown off her sun-bonnet as she came through the 
 gate, and was singing gayly, when her attention was at- 
 tracted by a sound in the street. Wiih her neck and 
 an ns bare, her small head bent slightly forward as she 
 listened, her lips parted, disclosing two beautiful rows of 
 pe.irly teeth, Alice stood for one moment unconscious of 
 the eyes gazing upon her with pride and affection. But 
 turning to enter the house she saw Clarence, stopped sud- 
 denly for one earnest glance, to assure herself it were 
 really he, then, with a light bound, sprang forward into 
 the room, her eyes sparkling, and her whole countenance 
 lighted with joy. 
 
 " Clarence ! Oh, Clarence ! " she exclaimed with de- 
 light, as he grasped both her hands and imprinted a kiss 
 upon her willing lips, " I'm so happy to see you." 
 
 The young man said nothing in words, but the com- 
 placency with which he regarded his enthusiastic pnpi 
 told his pleasure at the meeting. 
 
 " Uncle Stephen is at the Hotel," remarked Mrs. Stan- 
 ley to the child. " You and "Louis may go with me to 
 see him. As I should like to have some private conver- 
 sation with him," she continued, turning to Mr. Sydney, 
 " I will entrust you to the care of the young people for 
 half an hour." 
 
 " 1 am well convinced there is some plo* going on,"
 
 IN DISGUISE. 81 
 
 said Clarence, archly. " Uncle Stephen is very myste- 
 rious about business he must arrange with you." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley glanced toward the children, and he said 
 no more. 
 
 The old gentleman was extremely pleased to meet his 
 friends ; though he expressed great displeasure at his 
 ward for being gone so long, saying, " I suppose you 
 thought I had no feeling. Now this little girl, I dare 
 say, is just as glad to see me, as she is to see you 
 hey, Alice ? " 
 
 Thus suddenly addressed, the child replied, archly : 
 " Dear Uncle Stephen, you know I love Clarence because 
 he's your ward, and because you love him." 
 
 The whole company burst into a merry laugh at her 
 answer. 
 
 " Complimentary to you, Clarence," resumed Uncle 
 Stephen ; " so you don't like him at all on his own ac- 
 count?" 
 
 " I know, sir,'' she answered, with a heightened color, 
 as she caught a glimpse of the young man's earnest face, 
 " that you would not love him as you do, unless he were 
 very good." 
 
 " What have you been doing to the child ? " he asked 
 of Marion, " giving her lessons in flattery ? This air 
 don't agree with her; must get her home." But while he 
 said this, he held fast her little hands, and gazed lovingly 
 into her face. 
 
 When Clarence had taken the children for a walk, 
 Marion drew a chair near him, and imparted her success. 
 She had finished her tale, and prepared it for the press. 
 
 " That being the case," he replied, " I shall proceed at
 
 S2 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 once to New York, and make arrangements for its pub 
 Jcation. Will you leave the business with me ?" 
 
 "Certainly, certainly, I am entirely ignorant ho\v 
 such things are managed." 
 
 " I have an acquaintance with a publisher, who wiii. ! 
 think, be glad to take it upon my recommendation.'" Kc 
 didn't consider it necessary to say to her. that he would 
 furnish the requisite funds. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley then presented her kind friend with a 
 small case, containing the miniatures of herself and the 
 children ; and he had not done admiring it when they 
 returned. 
 
 Mrs. Churchill cordially invited Mr. Forsyth, and his 
 ward, to spend the night at her house ; but the old gen- 
 tleman preferred remaining at the hotel, as they were to 
 start for New York early the next morning. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley parted from her friends with regret, after 
 receiving from them a promise of a speedy return of her 
 long visit ; and arrived at home greatly improved in 
 strength and spirits. The children were delighted to be 
 again at home, and resume their wonted occupations. 
 They visited the stables to see Felix and Dobbin, the 
 names they had given to their favorite animals, and found 
 them in good condition, having by order of Mr. Stanley 
 been exercised every day. 
 
 When Uncle Stephen returned, he informed Marion 
 that he had been able to make satisfactory arrangements 
 in regard to the publication of her tale, which would 
 soon be issued from the press. 
 
 As the time approached for the work to appear, the 
 author began to tremble for its success ; and, though
 
 IN DISGUISE. 8-J 
 
 it was entirely anonymous, she almost wished she had 
 never undertaken it. These fears, however, she was 
 obliged to keep to herself, for Uncle Stephen was indig- 
 nant at the first doubt she expressed, and took it as a 
 reflection upon his power of judging, when she said, 
 timidly, " The public will not receive my little work as 
 kindiy as you have done." 
 
 The next few weeks passed rapidly away. Mr. Stan- 
 ley was in unusual spirits at the return of his wife, and 
 the apparent improvement in Louis. Gertrude was oc- 
 cupied with Clarence, who gave himself up to the 
 pleasure he experienced in her society, though as yet he 
 had kept his promise to his guardian, and had not dis- 
 closed to her his love. He had, indeed, experienced a 
 sudden pang, when lie observed any appearance of 
 asperity in her temper ; but love is proverbially blind, so 
 that many events prejudicial to her passed before his 
 eyes without his notice, or if he observed them, he was 
 ever ready to invent excuses for what appeared unlovely 
 in her conduct. 
 
 Gertrude loved Clarence as much as with her cold, 
 proud temperament she was capable of loving. But she 
 was vexed at his delay to ask her hand, and ascribed it 
 to the influence of her step-mother. She was also dis- 
 trustful of Alice, and determined that the child should 
 be made to feel that she was too familiar, and that she 
 must learn to keep her appropriate place. She begged 
 her father to send the child to school, as Louis was -o 
 much Ix-ttcr; but when hi- mentioned the proposition in 
 the presence of Clarence, the young man would by no 
 means consent to give up his pupil; and said, with
 
 84 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 warmth : " It will be quite time for her to attend school 
 and learn accomplishments, when I leave here ; that is, 
 if you are satisfied with her progress." 
 
 So Alice went on, quietly laying the foundation for a 
 thorough education ; though her instructor sighed, as he 
 thought of what might be her future destiny. And 
 Louis, who was always present, at her recitations, and 
 who of late had listened very attentively, became fond 
 of study, and progressed rapidly.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " To meditate, to plan, resolve, perform, 
 Which in itself is good, as surely brings 
 Reward of good, no matter what be done." 
 
 Pollock. 
 
 ABOLT the middle of October, the family at Linden 
 wood Hall were seated at their evening repast. Uncle 
 Stephen, having finished his meal, requested Alice to 
 pass him the New York Journal of Commerce. He was 
 an inveterate reader of newspapers ; and, after reading 
 to himself several columns of shipping, and matters 
 connected with trade, he came upon the following notice, 
 which he read aloud : " Works in Press. A Simple 
 Tale of Home Life, published by S. D. & Co. This 
 work, from an anonymous author, is now before the 
 public. With an unostentatious title, it makes its way 
 to the heart, stirring our very souls to purer, higher, and 
 nobler purposes. It is full of pathos and simple beauty , 
 and the style is chaste and clear. We prophesy for it a 
 wide circulation." 
 
 " Then follows a score or more of similar notices of 
 the same book," continued Uncle Stephen, as if he were 
 about to pass on to something else. 
 
 " What, is the title? " inquired Gertrude, eagerly. 
 
 Clarence looked over Uticle Stephen's shoulder, and 
 repeated it. 
 
 " Will you send for it, father? I should like to read it' 
 8 w
 
 56 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " Yes, my daughter, though probably we should be 
 able to obtain it from the bookstore in the village." 
 
 During the reading of the notice, Mrs. Stanley grew 
 very pale, but the family were so intently listening that 
 they did not notice her agitation. 
 
 The next morning, Gertrude borrowed Felix from 
 Alice, and, accepting Clarence as an escort, was just 
 starting for the village, when a bundle was brought to 
 Uncle Stephen. He untied the wrapper, disclosing a 
 pile of books elegantly bound. 
 
 "Pshaw!" said he, impatiently, as he saw several 
 pairs of eyes earnestly watching him. He took up a 
 letter lying at the top of the bundle, and, having hastily 
 read it, muttered, " A pretty piece of imposition, truly ! 
 Send me a dozen books to give away for Christmas 
 presents ! Wonder what will be done next ? Turn au- 
 thor myself, most likely." Then, taking one volume from 
 the pile, " there, Gertrude," he said, " no need of going 
 to the bookstore, unless you want to take these and sell 
 them there. Here are a dozen copies of the very book 
 you were in search of." 
 
 Gertrude advanced eagerly, and took it from his hand 
 
 " Well," he resumed, " suppose can't send 'em back, 
 so you may keep that one, if you'll promise to read it, 
 and profit by it." 
 
 " Thank you," she replied, gayly, " I'll certainly prom- 
 ise to do the first." 
 
 He then placed a volume in the trembling hands of 
 Mrs. Stanley, and also of Alice, and of Louis, who were 
 present. 
 
 With a flushed face, the authoress retired from the
 
 IN DISGUISE. H7 
 
 room, while Clarence proposed to "Gertrude a ride in 
 another direction. 
 
 In the evening, when the family drew around the fire, 
 Mr. Stanley proposed reading aloud, while the ladies 
 employed themselves with their needles. This proposi- 
 tion was joyfully received ; and Uncle Stephen, finding 
 he could hear distinctly when his nephew held the tube 
 a short distance from his mouth, raised the horn to his 
 ear, and sat back in his chair with an appearance of 
 perfect content. Alice nestled herself close to Mrs. 
 Stanley, who had turned a little from the light, while 
 Louis, who begged to be allowed to sit up an hour, and 
 hear the new book, laid his head in his mother's lap. 
 Before her father had read many pages, Gertrude dropped 
 her work, and, leaning her head upon her hand, gave 
 herself up to the enjoyment of listening. As the work 
 progressed, no one was more interested than Uncle Ste- 
 phen, who clapped his hands, then, as if fearful of losing 
 a word, he caught up his tube, and as suddenly shed 
 tears. And, indeed, Mr. Stanley, who was a fine reader, 
 was often obliged to stop and clear his throat. At 
 length they came to the death of the heroine, whose 
 touching story had come home to every heart, who was 
 represented as a young bride yearning for the affection 
 of her husband. He had mistaken her character, and 
 found, when too late to atone for his neglect, her diary, 
 where she had poured out freely all her sorrows. Here 
 Mr. Stanley was unable to proceed, and passed the book 
 to Clarence, while Uncle Stephen \vepr aloud, wholly 
 unmindful that the. trumpet had for some time been 
 lying unused upon the table. Mrs. Stanley also wept,
 
 88 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 but hers were tears of joy and gratitude. Her agitation 
 attracted the attention of her husband, who, ascribing ii 
 to a wrong cause, made many noble resolutions sug- 
 gested by the subject of the tale. 
 
 At a late hour the book was reluctantly laid aside, to 
 be finished the following evening, when Uncle Stephen 
 said, " I forgive the old fellow for sending me the books. 
 If it ends well, I'll order a dozen or two more." 
 
 It was with great difficulty that Gertrude restrained 
 herself from reading in advance ; but Clarence put his 
 hands over her book, telling her it was not fair. Through 
 that day, nothing else was talked of. 
 
 " Marion ! " exclaimed her husband, " I have not yet 
 heard your opinion. Are you not interested ? " 
 
 " The characters are dear to me as personal friends," 
 she replied, while her lips quivered from suppressed emo- 
 tion. 
 
 There was something inexplicable in her manner, and, 
 addressing her with unwonted tenderness, he said, " My 
 dear wife, you take it too much to heart." 
 
 Early in the evening the family assembled, eager for 
 the reading to begin. Clarence suggested that Uncle 
 Stephen should take a copy of the work, and read to 
 himself, which he willingly agreed to do, and Mr. Stan- 
 ley commenced. 
 
 As the story progressed, the hero, rendered desolate bj 
 the death of his wife, gave himself up to bitter remorse, 
 and then, through the instrumentality of the earnest 
 prayers in his behalf, which he found interspersed through 
 the pages of her private journal, became a humble, con- 
 sistent Christian. There were no unheard of escapes
 
 IN DISGUISE. 89 
 
 nothing, indeed, different from the every-day expeiien 
 of many families ; but through the boqk there was a 
 high moral standard, an earnest appeal to one's better 
 feelings, together with a thrilling beauty of language, 
 which, coming as it evidently did from a heart acquainted 
 with sorrow, could not fail to reach the heart of its read- 
 ers. 
 
 Mr. Stanley choked and coughed, as he tried vainly to 
 suppress his agitation. At length, as on the previous 
 evening, he passed the book to Clarence, who only shook 
 his head. Then, turning to Marion, he asked, " Will you 
 read ? " 
 
 She took the volume, and though at first her voice 
 trembled, her emotion was ascribed to her interest in the 
 tale, and she soon became wholly absorbed in the read- 
 ing. Alice, who was seated on a low chair at her side, 
 leaned forward with parted lips, while the tears were 
 streaming unconsciously down her cheeks. To her it 
 was all a reality. 
 
 It was nearly midnight when Mrs. Stanley concluded ; 
 but no one had thought of the hour. All sat as if spell- 
 bound, until she closed the book, when her hearers drew 
 a long sigh of relief from their over-excited feelings. 
 
 " Excuse me," said she, looking at the time-piece. 
 " Indeed, 1 was not aware it was so late." 
 
 " We could not rest," responded Clarence, " until it 
 was finished." 
 
 " We must find out the author! " exclaimed Gertrude, 
 with enthusiasm. " I know I should love her." 
 
 " I think," remarked her father, with great tenderness, 
 u you would find she had learned from her own grief, 
 8*
 
 DO THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 how to move the hearts of others. The book is above 
 praise. I am willing to confess that I owe to it many 
 now resolutions ; many desires after the peace experi- 
 enced by that desolate husband, as described in the clos- 
 ing chapter. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley left the room hurriedly, to conceal the tears 
 of gratitude which were welling up from the deepest 
 fountains of her heart. 
 
 For a number of days the characters described in the 
 new book were the all-engrossing themes of conversa- 
 tion. Favorite chapters were read again and again, and 
 each time some new beauty was discovered. Gertrude 
 was exceedingly anxious to ascertain the name of the 
 author, who, she said, " must be a lady of the keenest 
 susceptibilities, as well as the most refined taste, for there 
 is not a low expression in the whole book." 
 
 Nor was Gertrude the only one who was curious to 
 know the writer of this popular tale, the most flattering 
 notices of which were daily coming from the press. Mrs. 
 Stanley saw one day an extract from a New York paper, 
 which pained her exceedingly. It was as follows : " The 
 question has repeatedly been asked, who is the author of 
 ' A Simple Tale of Home Life.' She is, as we under- 
 stand upon good authority, a lady residing not a hundred 
 miles from this city, who lives a very sad life with a 
 cruel, tyrannical husband. The story is said to be a his- 
 tory of her own trials, embellished with some fiction." 
 
 Marion took the paper to her own room, and tore it to 
 pieces, wondering who could have thought of such an 
 explanation. But the next day the mistake was rectified, 
 and the author w x as said to be a young lady residing at
 
 IN DISGUISE. 91 
 
 the south, name unknown. After reading the latter, 
 the author breathed more freely. 
 
 Uncle Stephen conducted himself in a most mysteri- 
 ous manner. He had ordered bundle after bundle of 
 (hem from the publisher, and sent them to his friends in 
 every direction. Louis watched him one day, as he sat 
 reading selections from the " Simple tale," while he 
 chuckled to himself, as if very merry at his own thoughts. 
 " Alice," he whispered, " I shouldn't wonder if Uncle 
 Stephen wrote that book." 
 
 " No, he didn't," she replied, decidedly. 
 
 " Well, he can say it all by heart. He has read noth- 
 ing else since it came out, except the notices in the 
 papers." 
 
 And indeed Uncle Stephen might well be interested 
 in Marion's complete success. " I prophesied it from the 
 first," he repeated to her again and again. He had been 
 the only one in her confidence ; had heard it as soon as 
 written ; nay, had talked over and over the plan with 
 her, and she had realized much assistance from his hints. 
 Now, he thought, was the time for her to make herself 
 known. But she said, " Not quite yet." She shrank 
 from the denouement, even in her own family. 
 
 In less than two months the publisher wrote to Uncle 
 Stephen that the first edition was exhausted, and that he 
 had many orders for the book yet unanswered. He waa 
 ready to make his first payment of one thousand dollars, 
 and he should immediately put to press a second edition 
 of ten thousand copies. 
 
 When asked what she would have done with the
 
 )2 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL, 
 
 money, Mrs. Stanley answered, " Please direct them to 
 deposit it in a New York bank, subject to your order." 
 
 But, what shall I do with it ? " 
 
 " I wish to use it here," she answered, laughing. 
 
 " I wont promise to keep your secret much longer," 
 he said to her one day, when they were alone. " 1 
 wouldn't, on any account, fail of being present when the 
 family discover the author." 
 
 " I shall tell my husband," said Mrs. Stanley ; " but 
 you shall have the pleasure of revealing the secret to the 
 others, though I am far from wishing it known, except to 
 the immediate members of our own family." 
 
 It was a joyful, merry Christmas, that year at Linden- 
 wood. The trees, bushes, and ground, as far as the eye 
 could see, were covered with pure, white snow. Emma 
 and her sister had returned for the holidays, and with 
 them also, by especial invitation, Alfred Huntington. So 
 that, with the family already at home, they made quite a 
 large and pleasant circle. 
 
 Louis, whose health had not been so firm for years, 
 ran from room to room, washing his friends a " merry 
 Christmas." The choice of suitable gifts had been a 
 grave question of discussion between him and Alice, 
 especially as on the previous week, each received, from 
 an unknown friend, five dollars to be appropriated in that 
 way. But at length they took Mrs. Stanley into their 
 confidence, and she at once relieved them. Alice had, 
 during the summer and fall, employed her leisure in 
 working a pair of slippers for Uncle Stephen, as a small 
 token of her gratitude for his kindness. She also wished 
 to make something for her teacher ; but had been unable
 
 IN UlSGUISE 93 
 
 to decide upon any article, until her kind friend suggested 
 a purse. 
 
 After breakfast there was a general distribution of 
 gifts, followed by joyful exclamations of delight ; none, 
 however, were received with more pleasure than that of 
 Alice to Uncle Stephen, who immediately threw off his 
 richly-braided India slippers, substituting hers in their 
 place. Mr. Stanley threw over the neck of his wife a 
 heavy gold chain, from which was suspended a valua- 
 ble watch. In return, she gave him a quaint old- 
 fashioned ring, of great worth, begging him to wear it 
 for her sake. Clarence and Gertrude exchanged books, 
 while Ally and Louis were perfectly delighted by a 
 present, from his father, of a bright-yellow Canary bird, 
 in a handsome cage. 
 
 When the confusion arising from the pleasant scene 
 nad somewhat subsided, Marion took her husband by the 
 hand, and led him to the small room she had used for a 
 study. Inviting him to be seated, she presented him 
 with an envelope containing bills to the amount of one 
 thousand dollars. He took them out one, two, three, 
 four, and so on, until he had counted ten one-hundred 
 dollar-bills. He looked at his wife in surprise, but she 
 only blushed and laughed. 
 
 "- What do you intend to do with all this ? " he asked. 
 
 " It is your Christmas present." 
 
 " From whom ? " 
 
 " From your wife, if you will accept it." 
 
 " But where did you get it?" and for one instant a 
 pang shot through his heart, as he thought of the origi- 
 nal of Ui" miniature she prized so highly. But she sal
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 fh< 're, loo .ting in his face with her calm, truthful eyes 
 - - and he spurned the idea as unworthy of her. 
 
 " Will you forgive me, if I tell you all ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," he replied, unconsciously laying 
 'lie notes upon the .table, and growing pale about the 
 mouth. He evidently shrank from the disclosure. 
 
 " You are ill," said Marion, kindly, though with a 
 b-iiade of sadness passing across her features, as she 
 saw the contraction of her husband's brow, and little 
 dreamed the cause. " Some other time will do as well." 
 
 " No ! no ! " he replied, " I am quite well. It has been 
 already too long delayed." 
 
 " You know it then, and are displeased," and Ma- 
 rion brushed away a tear, that her surprise should have 
 resulted so differently from what she had anticipated. 
 
 " Go on, Marion, I know nothing. At least, nothing 
 definitely, I only had my suspicions." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the young wife, laying her head on his 
 shoulder, and weeping bitterly, " I had hoped so much 
 from this, I did not imagine that' you would be dis- 
 pleased, or I would never have undertake^! it." 
 
 " Undertaken what, my dear wife ? 1 do not under- 
 stand you," and he put his arm about her. 
 
 " To write the book," she answered, sobbing. 
 
 " What book, Marion ? " he asked, starting to his feet. 
 
 " Why, the one Uncle Stephen gave you." 
 
 For a full minute Mr. Stanley stood gazing at his 
 wife, as if he could hardly believe his senses. Then he 
 caught her in his arms, and held her tightly to his breast 
 " My own Marion ! " he whispered, " can you forgive me, 
 who have so misjudged you ? "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 9-3 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed the loving wife, if you will only 
 love me, I shall be so happy." 
 
 At that moment, a servant knocked at the door, and 
 requested her mistress to go below. There was to be a 
 great dinner at the Hall, to which Mr. Badger, their good 
 rector, and his family, together with other friends from 
 the village, had been invited. Mrs. Carey had the super- 
 vision of the whole, and had sent for Mrs. Stanley to 
 advise. Alice could set the tables, and adorn them with 
 flowers, but she wished for her mistress's approbation of 
 the general arrangements. Mrs. Stanley accompanied 
 the servant to the pantry, though keenly disappointed at 
 the interruption. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Stanley replaced the bills in the 
 envelope, returned them to Marion's desk, and com- 
 menced a vigorous walk across the room, as he impa- 
 tiently awaited her return. He was filled with remorse 
 that he had given her pain, and caused her to utter an 
 exclamation expressing a fear that she did not possess 
 his love. " If she had remained," he soliloquized, " I 
 would have asked her to have explained all could it 
 not have been her father's picture ? " he exclaimed, stop- 
 ping short in his walk. " But then, why should she 
 conceal it ? Yet, I am sure she is innocent of wrong." 
 Then his niind reverted to her late disclosure, and he 
 thought, of her with pride, as the author of a book which 
 had found such great favor with the public. " How 
 coulc she have accomplished it without his knowledge?" 
 Then he became convinced that Uncle Stephen had been 
 in her confidence. l>nt what would his daughters say .' 
 Would she be willing they should know it? Or was
 
 96 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 she determined to remain the unknown author ? " Pride 
 at the thought of the rare talents of his wife, and regret 
 that he had not better appreciated her, by turns swelled 
 his breast, until at length he became tired of waiting, 
 and determined to seek her below. But neither in the 
 parlor nor dining-room could he find her, and he reluc- 
 tantly joined the family. 
 
 Mrs, Stanley was by this time deep in the mysteries 
 of the kitchen. Different kinds of soup, game, and other 
 meats, by turns, engaged her attention. There was, in- 
 deed, much to be done, and she saw no way but for 
 her to spend the forenoon in its accomplishment. She 
 ran for one moment to her room to put on a large apron, 
 hoping to find her husband still there ; but he had just 
 gone below, and she returned to her work. 
 
 Alice flew about here and there, beating eggs, grating 
 lemon and nutmeg, while Louis was busily engaged in 
 picking raisins and sultannas. When the puddings 
 were prepared for the oven, Alice ran gayly to the 
 dining-room, and Mrs. Stanley having unlocked the 
 side-board, proceeded to take from thence plate and 
 gjuss. Ever and anon shouts of laughter came from 
 the parlor, in which the young girl most heartily joined, 
 though without knowing the cause. She had carried all 
 the dishes to the table, and was singing gayly, as she 
 placed them in order, when Clarence, attracted by her 
 full, melodious voice, came to find her. 
 
 " I have been wondering for the last five minutes," he 
 said, as he stood in the door-way, " who could have im- 
 ported that nightingale. Really, Alice, you are a famous
 
 IN DISGUISE. 97 
 
 singer. What are your other accomplishments, which 
 you have kept concealed ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " she replied, archly, " setting tables, and mak- 
 ing bouquets." 
 
 " Where is Mrs. Stanley ? " 
 
 " She has returned to the kitchen. She has been 
 taking out the plate." 
 
 " Cannot her daughters assist her ? " 
 
 Alice laughed merrily. " They don't know anything 
 about cooking." 
 
 " Well," said he, " If you will accept my assistance, I 
 will help you make the bouquets." 
 
 The young girl looked inquiringly at him for a mo- 
 ment, but finding he was in earnest, said she should be 
 nappy to accept his proffered help, but disliked to keep 
 him from the company. 
 
 Having laid the plates, knives and forks in order, 
 and put a snow-white napkin, in the form of a fan, into 
 the goblets, Alice hastened to the cellar, and brought 
 from thence a large basket of flowers, which had been 
 placed there to keep them fresh. These she carried into 
 a small ante-room, leading from the dining-hall, and hav- 
 ing put up the leaf of a large table, poured the flowers 
 carefully upon it. She then went for vases and cham- 
 pagne-glasses, and having made all her arrangements, 
 invited Clarence to take a seat. 
 " What shall I do ? " he asked. 
 
 u You may pick out all the small flowers with long 
 stems. Those I shall put in the glasses ; the short onea 
 you may place here to be tied into bouquets." 
 
 For nearly an hour Clarence worked busily as she 
 9
 
 98 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 had directed, stopping occasionally to watch the tastt 
 with which his young companion assorted colors, and 
 the despatch with which she formed the flowers into 
 cones, tying the stems of the roses and camellias upon 
 short pieces of wire. She was using up her last flowers, 
 when they heard a sound of suppressed mirth, and, 
 turning quickly, saw Emma and Edith standing at the 
 door. 
 
 The girls laughed merrily as they entered, and Emma 
 said, good-humoredly, " I would gladly have assisted 
 you, Alice, though I doubt whether I could have been 
 so successful." 
 
 " There has been great inquiry about you in the par- 
 lor," said Edith. " One young lady has been exceed- 
 ingly anxious concerning your welfare." 
 
 Young Sydney started up in haste, and. taking two 
 of the vases from the table, followed Alice to the dining- 
 room, and then returned to the parlor. Soon after, Mrs. 
 Stanley, having finished her preparations, and dressed 
 for dinner, entered in season to receive her guests. 
 
 Gertrude cast a reproachful glance upon her lover, and 
 a haughty one upon her mother, supposing her to be the 
 cause of his absence. Bat he made no explanation ; 
 and, as Mr. Badger, the aged clergyman, and his family, 
 were soon announced, the conversation became general. 
 
 Mr. Stanley took an opportunity, however, to speak in 
 a low voice to his wife, saying, " My love, where have 
 you hid yourself ? I looked in vain for you to return to 
 the chamber." 
 
 Marion had only time to give him a glance of affec- 
 tion-, before she was? addressed by one of the company.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 99 
 
 When the more substantial viands had been disposed 
 of, and the dessert brought in, Mrs. Warren, one of the. 
 company, remarked that the flowers were exceedingly 
 fresh, supposing they had been brought from the city. 
 
 With a smile, Mrs. Stanley replied, " I have a fairy 
 who arranges mv flowers for me," and, looking around 
 
 gf 
 
 the table, for the first time noticed that Alice was not 
 present. " Where has the child vanished ? " she asked, 
 quickly. 
 
 " She did not corne to dinner, mamma," replied Emma 
 
 " Go to her room, Sarah," said Mrs. Stanley, address- 
 ing a servant, " and tell her I cannot excuse her." From 
 the expression on Gertrude's face, she feared the child 
 had been purposely kept away. 
 
 Sarah soon returned, and whispered to her mistress 
 that Alice was weeping bitterly. 
 
 A shade passed over the bright countenance of the 
 hostess, but she said no more. She noticed, however, 
 that Gertrude was talking in an excited manner to a 
 gentleman opposite, and that Uncle Stephen, who was 
 the first to miss his little favorite, and to suspect some- 
 thing wrong, scarcely moved his eyes from her face. 
 
 The very first moment Mrs. Stanley was at liberty, 
 she hastened to Alice, but found Louis had preceded 
 her. The poor child had wept herself sick, and was 
 leaning her aching head upon her arms, which were 
 lying on a table. It was a long time before her kind 
 friend could obtain any satisfactory account of the cause 
 of her grief. She at length told her, however unpleasant 
 it might be to complain of another, it was plainly her 
 duty to confide it to her.
 
 JOO THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " 1 know," said the child, with an affecting appearance 
 of humility, " I know that I ought not to feel so badly 
 I do forget that I have no right to be treated like the 
 others, for I am only a " 
 
 " Alice ! " said Mrs. Stanley, with decision, " tell rne 
 instantly what has happened. You are as dear to me 
 as any of my children." 
 
 The young girl tried to suppress her sobs, as she said, 
 " After I had finished arranging the table, I came to my 
 room to prepare for dinner. I had just curled my hair, 
 and mother had been up to assist me to dress, when 
 Gertrude came in, and told me that my conduct had 
 been so improper that I could not go to the table ; that 
 the whole family were ashamed of rne for forcing myself 
 upon them as if I were a daughter, or any thing but a 
 servant." 
 
 " What had you been doing that she considered so 
 improper ? " 
 
 " I think it was that Clarence helped make the bou- 
 quets ; but I did not ask him to do so. I told him he 
 had better return to the parlor." 
 
 " Yes, I understand," said Mrs. Stanley, sighing heav- 
 ily. " Now. Alice, I am sure you have no wish to 
 render me unhappy." 
 
 " No, indeed, ma'am." 
 
 " Then bathe your eyes, go down and eat your dinner. 
 Your mother is at the table now. Then I will come up 
 and dress you, for I must have my little girl look hei 
 best to-night." 
 
 " I had rather not go into the parlor," murmure< 
 Alice. " I could not keep from crying."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 101 
 
 " You will at least try, when it will please me," and 
 she led the child to the sink, and stood by her until she 
 had bathed her eyes and head. She then accompanied 
 her to the dining-room, and said to the nurse, " I want 
 you to see that my little fairy has a good dinner." 
 
 Mrs, Carey's appearance puzzled Mrs. Stanley. She 
 averted her face, and seemed determined not to answer. 
 Tier conduct only made her mistress the more deter- 
 mined upon a plan she had long thought of, and which 
 will be mentioned in another chapter. 
 
 It was nearly an hour before Mrs. Stanley could find 
 an opportunity to leave her guests. When she did, she 
 found Alice intently occupied in reading, having for the 
 time forgotten all her trials. The kind lady had taken 
 great pleasure in preparing a suitable wardrobe for her 
 young friend, it being her husband's wish that there 
 should be no difference in the appearance of the children. 
 
 She now went to her own drawer, and, taking from it 
 a yard of wide blond lace, basted it for a berthe into the 
 dress, which was crimson merino, and which was highly 
 becoming to her fair complexion. Her hair, which curled 
 naturally, afforded a sufficient covering to her white and 
 .plump neck. Mrs. Stanley was delighted with the ap- 
 pearance of her protege, as she stood unconscious of 
 her beauty, her eyes cast down with winning grace. 
 
 When they entered the parlor, Alice accompanied her 
 friend around the room, giving to each her hand as they 
 expressed their pleasure at seeing her. There was noth- 
 ing like forwardness at any time in Alice; nothing that 
 could appear like a wisli to put herself in the way of 
 others. Neither was she bashful ; but on this occasion 
 9'
 
 1 02 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 there .vas a Slight diffidence, arising from the reflections 
 called up by Gertrude's unkindness, which deepened the 
 color in her cheeks, and added greatly to her beauty. 
 The young people pressed forward to speak with her, 
 and to interest her in some games they were planning 
 for the evening. But during the whole afternoon she 
 kept her place at Mrs. Stanley's side, with Uncle Stephen 
 near her. 
 
 At length Clarence approached, and, in a grave tone, 
 asked her if she were doing penance, that she sat so 
 quietly while her companions in the recess were in such 
 a frolic. 
 
 " She is not doing penance for her own sins," replied 
 Marion, quickly, seeing Alice was distressed. 
 
 " Nor for mine, I hope," exclaimed Clarence, his brow 
 contracting with a sudden thought. He did not wait for 
 an answer, but, drawing a chair near the group, entered 
 warmly into conversation with Mrs. Jenks, wife of the 
 family physician. They talked of India, and Clarence 
 persuaded his guardian to give the ladies an account of 
 one of the feasts of the natives. Before he had finished, 
 Mr. Stanley and Mr. Badger joined them ; and, when 
 they were called to tea, Alice thought she had never 
 passed a more pleasant hour than the last.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 * Alas ! I am but a woman, fond and weak, 
 Without even power my proud, pure love to speafe ; 
 But, oh ! by all I fail in, love not me 
 For what I am, but what I wish to be." Mrs. Osg-jod. 
 
 TUB Christmas holidays were certainly not wanting in 
 excitement to one, at least, of the family at Lindenwood 
 Hall. Having gained the ready permission of her hus- 
 band, Mrs. Stanley proposed to Mrs. Carey to adopt 
 Alice, and educate her as she would her own child. 
 
 The mother's only response to this proposal vvas a 
 sudden burst of tears. 
 
 " I have property of my own," continued the lady, 
 and I have no claims upon me. If I should be taken 
 away, I do not with her, with sensibilities and tastes 
 highly refined and cultivated, to be left to the cold charity 
 of the world. If you will give her to me, I promise at 
 once to make suitable provision for her, and henceforth 
 to treat her as a child, though I can hardly love her more 
 than I do at present. You will probably see as much of 
 her as you do now, for I shall certainly do nothing to 
 diminish her affection for you." 
 
 " Well, then, take her," answered Mrs. Carey, abruptly, 
 " and may she prove a comfort and a blessing 1o you ; " 
 and she turned suddenly away, and hastened to an inner 
 -oom, leaving her friend in doubt whether her strong 
 emotions were to be ascribed to her excess of gratitude, 
 
 103
 
 104 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 or to her great affection for the child. If the latter, shi 1 
 certainly had a strange maniier of exhibiting it. Her sin 
 gular conduct had sometimes led Mrs. Stanley to think 
 her even prejudiced against Alice. But, thankful for the 
 permission to take her, she left Mrs. Carey's cottage and 
 walked slowly home, wondering what Alice would say 
 io the change in her relation to the family. 
 
 She had scarcely entered the park, when a merry shout 
 of laughter reached her, and she soon saw the young girl 
 drawing Louis, who, loosing his hold, had fallen off 
 the sled, with which Alice was running away at full 
 speed, unconscious that she had lost her charge. Mrs. 
 Stanley joined in the laugh at Louis's expense, and left 
 them, requesting Alice, on returning to the Hall, to come 
 to her room. 
 
 An hour later they joined her, when she beckoned the 
 rosy girl to a seat at her side, while Louis took his favor- 
 ite place on an ottoman at her feet. 
 
 " I am glad you came, too, my son," she said, pushing 
 back his soft hair from his white forehead, " because I 
 have some good news for you." 
 
 " And for me, too ? " asked Alice, gayly. 
 
 " Perhaps so," she replied, smiling pleasantly. " Louis," 
 she added, " how should you like a sister about your own 
 age?" 
 
 The boy started to his feet, and gazed earnestly at her 
 for a moment, and then said, in a plaintive tone, " I 
 should rather not have one, if Alice must go away. No- 
 body else will love me as she does." 
 
 " Well, then," said his mother, " you shall have her for 
 your sister. What say you to this, Ally ; will you be my 
 little daughter ? "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 105 
 
 The poor child arched her eyebrows, and looKed at 
 Mrs. Stanley in astonishment 
 
 " She will ! she will ! " shouted Louis, joyfully. " I 
 know she will ! " 
 
 " I should \'"'p dearly to have you for my mother," said 
 the child, " and Louis always has been like a brother 
 but I don't understand how it can be." 
 Mrs. Stanley then told her that she and her husband 
 had long wished to adopt her, and that her mother had 
 consented. 
 
 " And will she come, too?" inquired the child, eagerly 
 
 " I said nothing to her about it, and I presume she will 
 prefer to live at the cottage, as she has done ; but we 
 shall always welcome her here for your sake, my love." 
 
 Alice was very thoughtful for a moment, and then 
 asked, " Would it be exactly right for me to leave my 
 mother? Sometimes she likes to have me there; and if 
 she should be sick " 
 
 " You can do everything, in such a case, as if you had 
 never left her. 1 should be the last one to keep you from 
 her." 
 
 " And she is willing?" asked the child, her countenance 
 growing very bright. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, then, I shall be very happy to be your little 
 girl," and she threw her arms about Mrs. Stanley's neck, 
 to beg for a seal to their new contract. Louis pressed 
 up for his share, and the good lady laughed as she de- 
 clared there would soon be nothing left of her. 
 
 " Save a piece for me," said a manly voice, close at 
 hand, and the merry group started to see Mt. Stanley
 
 106 THE HOr.MCIlOLD ANGEL 
 
 behind them. When he had heartily joined in the laugh 
 his sudden appearance called forth, his wife introduced 
 her new daughter, who looked very lovely as she .stood 
 before him with downcast eyes. 
 
 " Remember, you are mine, too," he said, tenderly, as 
 he drew her to him, and kissed her brow. 
 
 Louis could not sufficiently thank his parents for so 
 dear a sister, and said earnestly, " I had rather have Alice 
 for my own, than a whole bag full of Uncle Stephen's 
 money, about which Edith talks so mur-h." 
 
 " Well, she is your own, now," replied his father, 
 though rather sadly, as he thought of the mercenary 
 spirit his daughter displayed ; " but go now to play. I 
 want to see your mother." 
 
 When they had gone, Marion resumed her sewing, 
 while her husband took a seat near her ; but seemed 
 somewhat embarrassed. The truth was, he had watched 
 her very closely for a few days, and had become fully 
 assured that she could explain the circumstances con- 
 nected with the miniature, to his entire satisfaction. He 
 had come now to her room, to ask her to confide all her 
 trials to him ; but he found her looking so happy in the 
 loving embrace of her children, and, indeed, he though! 
 her unusually so since Christmas eve, that he did no!' 
 like to allude to so disagreeable a subject. 
 
 Marion glanced up from her work, and smiled pleas- 
 antly, though she wondered a little that he did not speak. 
 
 " My dear wife," he said at length, " I have one ques- 
 tion to ask you, and I am sure you will answer it, if you 
 can properly do so. You know I am a very plain man,
 
 IN DISGUISE. 107 
 
 perhaps rather too reserved in ray expressions of aftec- 
 tion ; but I hope you have never doubted my true love 
 for you." 
 
 The young wife dropped her work, and hid her face 
 on her husband's shoulder. Her heart beat wildly; bur 
 she suppressed every outward demonstration of her feel- 
 ings and said, with as much calmness as she could as- 
 sume, " Is that the question ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is a very important one to me, my love, but 
 not the one to which I then referred ; " and he drew her 
 nearer to him. 
 
 " 1 cannot think of any subject upon which I should 
 be unable to be perfectly frank with you," sha resumed, 
 with some surprise. 
 
 " It referred to a miniature I once saw in your hands, 
 and which you thrust out of sight," continued he, speak- 
 ing quickly, and not without some difficulty. 
 
 The light beamed from her eyes, as she drew a locket 
 from the pocket in her boddice, and held it up to him ; 
 " was it this ? " she asked, eagerly. 
 
 He recognized the setting at once, and the deepest 
 mortification took possession of his breast, as he saw it 
 was a flattered likeness of himself. His eyes seemed to 
 fastened upon it, as he held it attached by a chain io her 
 neck. 
 
 " I hope you are not displeased?" asked Marion, not 
 understanding his grave looks. " I painted it from mem- 
 ory, before we were married ; and it was only a foolish 
 nride, which I much regret, if it has given you pain, 
 which prevented me from showing it to you." 
 
 " 1 regret only, my true-hearted wife," said Mr. Stanley
 
 108 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 with moistened eyes, though he seldom shed a tear, 
 "that I have never known your real worth, and that 1 
 should, even for a moment, have been distrustful of 
 you." 
 
 A long conversation ensued, in which all former cold- 
 ness was explained, though Marion passed very lightly over 
 her own trials. She wondered now, how she could ever 
 have called them so ; though she frankly acknowledged 
 what had led her to undertake the task of writing a book. 
 u Now," she added, " that I am sure of the confidence 
 and love of my husband, I have done with publishers 
 forever." When the supper-bell called them below, she 
 said, archly, as she replaced the precious miniature, " I 
 will give you anything but this, in my possession. This 
 is my dearest treasure. When you are grave, I have 
 only to come up here, and gaze at your smiling face." 
 
 " It is very much flattered," he said, pleasantly. 
 
 She shook her head and whispered, as they went 
 through the hall, " It looks just as you did then, and 
 just as you do now." 
 
 " I will endeavor never to drive you to your locket for 
 a smile," he ad~ded, impressively. 
 
 Their countenances expressed so much happiness, that 
 the whole family gazed earnestly at them as they en- 
 tered. "What a fine-looking pair!" whispered Mr. 
 Huntii gton to Edith, who laughed merrily. 
 
 " Ah'36 came to my room to tell me some news," re- 
 marked Uncle Stephen, when they were seated at the 
 table; "I rejoiced with her in having found such a 
 mother, and now I rejoice with you in having found 
 guch a child." This was a great speech for the old
 
 IN DISGUISE. 109 
 
 gentleman, and a more flattering one than he was often 
 known to make. But his oddities were fast disappear- 
 ing, and this evening the family were destined to witness 
 the abrupt termination of one of his strange whims. 
 
 As he was at quite a distance from her, Marion could 
 only bow her thanks, as she proceeded to pour the tea ; 
 but the other members of the family warmly discussed 
 the subject. Clarence noticed, with pain, that neither 
 Gertrude nor Edith expressed pleasure at the new rela- 
 tion of Alice to them. 
 
 When the rest had retired from the table, Uncle Ste- 
 phen detained Mrs. Stanley, and asked her to allow him 
 to communicate to the family the fact of her being the 
 unknown authoress. He added, " I have a secret of my 
 own to reveal, which will not a little astonish them, and 
 I may as well tell yours at the same time." 
 
 " Have you, too, become an author ? " asked she, 
 quickly putting the trumpet to her mouth. 
 
 Uncle Stephen leaned forward, and whispered four 
 short words in her ear. There are few shorter in the 
 language ; but Marion started back in astonishment, and 
 gazed at him, wondering if she had heard him aright. 
 
 " You, certainly, are in no danger,'* said the old gen- 
 tleman, clapping his hands, and laughing aloud, "what- 
 ever some of your daughters may be. Mum is the word," 
 he added, as he followed her to the parlor. 
 
 The evening proved stormy, and the family drew up 
 before the fire, and sat down to enjoy a pleasant chat. 
 After conversing for half an hour upon the general topics 
 of the day, Mr. Sydney said : " I wish we had another 
 
 10
 
 110 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 book for this evening's reading, as good as ' The Tale 
 of Home Life.' " 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Stephen! "interrupted Emma, " I have not 
 thought since I came home to thank you for my beau- 
 tiful present." 
 
 " Nor I," added Edith, getting up, in order to speak. 
 
 " I wrote my thanks at once," said Mr. Huntington to 
 Edith. " The way that book sold, at the stores in New 
 Haven, was a caution, as the students say ; but there 
 was great enthusiasm to know the author. Have you 
 ever heard the work ascribed to Mrs. L ? " 
 
 " No," answered Edith ; " but I think it likely it may 
 be hers." 
 
 " What does she say ? " asked the old gentleman, lean- 
 ing forward in his chair. 
 
 Emma repeated her sister's remark. 
 
 " No, it is n't!" exclaimed he, starting up from his seat, 
 and looking very triumphantly around, as if he were 
 about to claim the authorship himself. 
 
 Mr. Stanley gaxed proudly at his wife, who bent over 
 her work; but the rest exhibited unmitigated astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Ask him if he knows who is the author," enjoined 
 Gcrtmde, impatiently. 
 
 " Your mother does," he replied. 
 
 " Then," said Clarence, " I hope, Mrs. Stanley, you will 
 arge her to use the talent God has given her for writing, 
 and give us another work speedily." 
 
 " I should think," resumed Gertrude, in a low voice, 
 " she might have gratified our curiosity by telling us 
 before this."
 
 IN DlSGriSK. 1 1 1 
 
 Mr. Stanley took no notice of this speech if he heard 
 it; but, as his wife seemed painfully embarrassed, h.. 
 remarked, " I heard the authoress say that she only 
 wrote for a specific purpose, and, having accomplished 
 that, she was satisfied to lay down her pen. This, how- 
 ever, I agree with you, Clarence, she ought not to do." 
 
 " Then you know her, too, father," said Louis, after 
 looking earnestly in his father's face. 
 
 " I declare," exclaimed Edith, " I do believe, after all, 
 it was Uncle Stephen himself. Just see how mysterious 
 he looks." And certainly he did appear rather suspicious. 
 He clapped his hands, and shouted, " It's the best joke 1 
 ever heard. Can none of you guess ? " 
 
 " I can," replied Alice, walking up to him, and taking 
 the trumpet. " I can, if I may." 
 
 " Out with it, then," said the old gentleman, unable 
 longer to contain himself. 
 
 " I think," continued Alice, pausing a moment, and 
 looking at Mrs. Stanley to see if she disapproved, " my 
 new mamma wrote it." 
 
 " That's it! " shouted 4he old man, catching her in his 
 arms. 
 
 The whole family, with the exception of Marion, v<> 
 to their feet with astonishment. "Yes," responded M: 
 Stanley, taking the hand of his wife, who would have 
 been glad to escape from the room, " I am proud to 
 recognize, in the writer of that exquisitely touching tale, 
 my own dear wife, who wrote it in order to prove to her 
 husband what he well knew before, that she was worth} 
 of his love. It has been as great a surprise to me as I 
 s % e it is to you; but I have been almost equally asion-
 
 112 THE HOUStHOLD ANGEL 
 
 ished to-day to find that writing is not her only accom- 
 plishment " 
 
 " Oh, don't ! not now ! " urged Marion, imploringly. 
 
 " Yes, let us have it," said Uncle Stephen. " We'll 
 dedicate the evening to surprises ; and she may weave 
 another tale about them." 
 
 " I find," resumed the happy husband, " that my wife 
 is not only an authoress, but an artist, and paints minia- 
 tures with equal skill and secrecy." 
 
 " And I find," exclaimed Uncle Stephen, throwing his 
 speaking trumpet across the room, " that I can hear as 
 well as ever I could," and he fell back into his chair, and 
 laughed so heartily that his nephew really feared he 
 would have a convulsion. " It's as good as a comedy," 
 he shouted, when he could speak. " This surprise is 
 worth all the trouble I've had with the old serpent" 
 (alluding to his coiled trumpet). " It has served me a 
 good turn," he said, recovering himself, "an. \ I may a3 
 well keep it for the good it has done." 
 
 It is impossible to describe the emotions e tperienced 
 by the different members of the family. L deed, one 
 surprise had so quickly succeeded another, tha{ they had 
 not yet recovered from the first. Mrs. Stanle} . her hus- 
 band and two younger children, felt only delight that 
 Uncle Stephen was so suddenly relieved from his infirm* 
 ity. Emma's thoughts recurred to various expvessi<>i 3 
 she had used, which mortified her extremely; and Mr. 
 Huntington's mind, to several tender speeches made in 
 his presence to Edith, under the false impression that he 
 could not hear. But to Gertrude and Edith the an- 
 nouncement was anything but pleasant. To the eldest,
 
 IN DISGUISK. 1 l>i 
 
 particularly, the fact was specially annoying, as she 
 thought of her free conversations with her sister con- 
 cerning Clarence and himself, and the disposal of his 
 property conversations which she had no doubt he had 
 repeated to his ward. 
 
 But Uncle Stephen soon relieved their embarrassment, 
 stating his reasons, which within a few weeks he had 
 begun to think were very foolish, for pretending to be 
 deaf. " My principal motive in it," he added, " was to 
 learn the characters of those with whom I wished to 
 pass the remainder of my days. My object, I must con- 
 fess, has been achieved, and the ordeal to which I have 
 subjected you has proved highly honorable, far more so 
 than I dared to hope. If in any case it has been other- 
 wise, and I have heard myself denounced as ' a great 
 Mogul,'" he added, laughing merrily, " I have no doubt 
 I well deserved the title ; and in every case I have kept 
 the knowledge thus acquired sacredly to myself." 
 
 At thes'e words, Gertrude began to breathe more 
 freely ; and the family burst into a hearty laugh, as 
 Louis, from the force of habit, walked up to his uncle, 
 and asked, earnestly, " And were you playing blind, too, 
 with the goggles ? I think your eyes are very bright." 
 
 " Yes, Louis, I must confess to the goggles too. I 
 frightened you well at first ; but you soon grew to love 
 your old, blind, deaf uncle, and I hope you wont stop 
 now, when you know I can see and hear as well as you 
 can." 
 
 When they separated for the night, Gertrude and her 
 sisters each gave their mother a kiss, as they expressed 
 their great, pleasure in recognizing her as an authoress 
 10*
 
 1J4 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 
 
 and an artist. It is but just to the first to say that in 
 her embrace there was more of real cordiality than she 
 had ever shown ; for she felt not only pride at her 
 mother's talents, but something of tenderness tcfward 
 one who, as she had often repeated of the unknovui 
 author, must be possessed of the keenest susceptibilities. 
 After she retired, and the subjects of the evening had 
 been earnestly discussed with her sister, she lay awake 
 many hours, keenly regretting the course she had pursued 
 toward her mother. She now realized that she had 
 wofully misjudged her ; and, after a tedious effort to 
 so^ve many things which she never had been able to 
 understand, and wondering how Mrs. Stanley could 
 have treated her and her sisters so kindly when they had 
 so underrated her, light began to dawn upon her mind, 
 and she acknowledged the power and the beauty of 
 religion, as exemplified in her mother's daily life. 
 
 Marion too passed a sleepless night. The events of 
 the afternoon, as well as of the evening, had been ex- 
 citing to her in the highest degree. The restoration of 
 Uncle Stephen to his hearing had been so sudden and 
 unexpected that she could hardly reali/e how he would 
 appear without his invariable accompaniment, The car- 
 trumpet. She could not refrain from laughing to herself 
 at the strange whim which had prompted such a course, 
 though she acknowledged the shrewdness of the strata- 
 gem. She recalled numerous instances in which he 
 must have found it difficult, with his impulsive feeling*, 
 to maintain silence. But, more than everything else. 
 the cordial embrace of Gertrude, and the whispered 
 words, " Father may well be proud of you," were sug-
 
 IN DISGUISE. 115 
 
 gestive of so many thoughts that she tried in vain to 
 sleep. Next to the respect and love of her husband, she 
 had earnestly craved the affection of his daughters. 
 Emma was already dutiful and childlike. Gertrude, 
 though considered amiable, had always treated her with 
 great reserve. Now she shed tears of joy at the thought 
 that this icy coldness was passing away, and that her 
 daughter would return her love. All former unkindness 
 was for the time forgotten, and Marion looked fowvard 
 with bright anticipations to a happy future. Witl re- 
 spect to Edith, her mother well knew that nothing but 
 divine grace could change so lofty a spirit, and cause 
 her willingly to bow to authority ; but she did not feel 
 wholly discouraged even with regard to her. She deter- 
 mined to go on cheerfully in the path of duty, thankful 
 that she could pray for her children, and that God could 
 turn their hearts to himself and to her. She doubted 
 whether she should ever again be subjected to the 
 annoyances which, on her first coming into the family, 
 had been so wounding to her feelings. And she was 
 right. 
 
 The next morning, her midnight prayer seemed to 
 have been answered. When she entered the breakfast 
 room, Gertrude alone was there, who came directly to 
 her, though not without a heightened color, and, like 
 Alice, gave her a morning kiss, saying, with an attempt 
 at cheerfulness, " Good morning, mother. I came down 
 early in the hope of getting my share in your embrace." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley's eyes were, humid as she replied, ten- 
 'Jerly, " Good morning, my dear child." 
 
 At the breakfast table much merriment was caused by
 
 L16 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Uncle Stephen. From the force of habit, Mr. Stanley 
 passed him his plate without speaking, and then requested 
 Emma, who sat by his side, to ask him if he would be 
 helped to anything more. Each time the old gentleman 
 burst into a merry laugh, as he said, " So, you're deter- 
 mined the old man shall be deaf, whether or no." He 
 told them he had had some difficulty to bring Clarence 
 into the plan, and that he himself had often been obliged 
 to leave the room hastily, for fear .of exposing himself. 
 
 During the forenoon he went to the parlor for the 
 morning papers, and found Alice tfiere with her books. 
 He sat down to read, but noticed that every time he 
 glanced at her, her eyes were fixed upon him with a 
 sad, inquiring expression. At length he became so nerv- 
 ous under her earnest gaze, that he asked, " What is the 
 matter, child ? What makes you look at me so ? " 
 
 Alice blushed, and began studying vigorously. 
 
 " Why don't you answer me ? " he asked, rather impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " I didn't know what I was doing, sir,' she answered, 
 timidly ; and she took her book and was hastening from 
 the room. 
 
 " Alice ! " he called, authoritatively, " come here? '' 
 
 She instantly obeyed, though he saw it was with re- 
 luctance. 
 
 " Were you thinking about me, child ? " 
 
 Her lip quivered, and for one moment she hesitated ; 
 but, seeing that he was determined to wait for her reply, 
 she faltered out, " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And pray what have I done that you should be gaz- 
 ing at me with tears in your eyes ? Come, now, tell mo 
 all j " and he affectionately took her hand.
 
 IX DISGUISE. 1J7 
 
 " I was only wondering," replied the child, in an al- 
 most inarticulate voice, " whether it were wrong to make 
 us all think you couldn't hear, when you could." 
 
 " And you feared your old friend had been deceiving, 
 hey ? 
 
 Alice burst into tears, but soon recovered herself, and 
 answered, " I was afraid so. I didn't think it was quite 
 right. But you know better than I do, sir ? " 
 
 " No, I don't know half as \vell ! " he exclaimed, pull- 
 ing, with a jerk, his handkerchief from his pocket. 
 " There, don't cry any more for an old sinner like me." 
 
 For the first time in her life the young girl put her 
 arms around Uncle Stephen's neck, and tried to soothe 
 him ; for, indeed, the idea that his conduct had caused this 
 truth-loving child to weep for his sins, sent a keen pang 
 through his heart. " 'Twas all wrong, child, all wrong 
 from the first ; I see it was," he sobbed out, " and you 
 must ask God to forgive me. You're a good girl to tell 
 me so. It's the way my sister used to do, and you're 
 just like her, so don't, you feel badly any more ; but if 
 you ever see me doing anything you think wrong, come 
 and tell me. Will you promise to do so ? " 
 
 She bowed her assent, and ran from the room. 
 
 " There," said he to himself, " I don't believe there's 
 another creature living who would mourn over my sins 
 as she did ; but it was hard for her to tell me of them. 
 I'd give all I'm worth if she was mine." From this time 
 Mr. Forsyth seemed to associate the thought of Alice 
 with his deceased sister, and regarded her almost with 
 veneration. 
 
 On New Year's day the family at Lindenwood en-
 
 118 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 joyed a fine game of blind-man's buff. The tables and 
 chairs had been removed from the dining-hall, and the 
 whole circle, with the exception of the millionaire ana 
 his nephew, were actively engaged in the game. These 
 gentlemen had drawn their chairs into the most retired 
 corner, beyond the sideboard, and made themselves merry 
 with watching the evolutions which the young people 
 made, in order to escape detection. Uncle Stephen en- 
 tered most heartily into the sport, shouting by turns, 
 " There, you've caught her ! " " Hold on ! " " Now she's 
 gone ! " " There, you have her again ! " " Who is she ? " 
 " Gertrude ? no ! I'll be blinded myself next time ; with 
 my goggles on, I could do better than that ! " and his 
 merry laugh rang through the room. 
 
 But their sport was suddenly suspended by a loud 
 scream in the entry, where the whole company rushed, 
 and found the cry proceeded from Louis, who, in coming 
 from the kitchen with an apple, had encountered one of 
 the monkeys. The animal tried to snatch the fruit from 
 his hand, and, in consequence of defending himself, 
 caught his finger and bit him severely. Poor LomVcried 
 and sobbed with pain, lung after the cross anima' had 
 been carried back to his confinement. 
 
 Uncle Stephen was very wrathy, and catching his cane 
 from the rack, in the hall, went quickly to the shed to 
 give the offending creature a cudgelling. Polio was evi- 
 dently expecting punishment, and had slunk away into 
 the farther corner of the cage. 
 
 " Come out here, sir ! " shouted the enraged man, 
 stamping his foot. But the creature only nestled closer 
 in the corner. He put in his cane and struck Polio a
 
 IN DISGUISE. 119 
 
 blow, when lie felt some one gently pulling his coat, and 
 a sweet voice asked, " Did he know any better, sir ? " 
 
 He dropped the stick, and replied, in an excited voice, 
 " Yes, he did know better, and he shall be punished." 
 
 Alice looked distressed. 
 
 Well, what shall I do with him ? " 
 
 " Do you love them very much ? " she asked, smiling, 
 as he stood before her, his velvet cap turned awry, so that 
 the tassel hung down by his cheek. 
 
 " No," said he, " not very much." 
 
 "I don't like monkeys at all !" exclaimed the child, 
 wilh a strong expression of disgust ; " I think they're very 
 trouolesome." 
 
 
 
 " Well, shall I get Thomas, the groom, to kill them ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " answered Alice, in unaffected horror. 
 
 " What, then ? You may decide." 
 
 " May I ? Oh, thank you ! Robert Perry would like 
 them so much, and his father promised to buy him one." 
 
 " Well, Robert Perry shall have them in welcome." 
 
 " Thank you," she repeated. " How glad the servants 
 will be to get rid of them." And, indeed, there was 
 great rejoicing at the hall, when, the next day, Polio and 
 Sally appeared chained together, and were led away lu 
 the village, by the groom. No less rejoiced was Ma.-ti i 
 Robert at the reception of what he considered a mosi 
 valuable commencement of his long-desired menagerie, 
 and at being informed that the cage in which they were 
 kept would immediately follow. 
 
 Alice stood at the \\indow with Uncle Stephen, when 
 Thomas led them down the avenue. " I should like to 
 know," he said, " what I am to do now for sport."
 
 120 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 " You may take me," answered the child, laughing 
 heartily at the half-regretful look he cast at his old favor- 
 ites. " They don't love you half so well as I do." 
 
 He turned to catch her in his arms ; but she playfully 
 eluded his grasp, and for the next ten minutes there was 
 a merry game, the like of which Polio and Sally in thcii 
 palmiest days, never enjoyed. Uncle Stephen was satis- 
 fied with the exchange of playmates.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Let them die, 
 
 Let them die now, thy children ! so thy heart 
 Shall wear their beautiful image all undimm'd, 
 Within it to the last." Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 IT was a clear frosty morning in March. The night 
 had been tempestuous, and the snow, which had fallen 
 the whole of the p'eceding day, was blown into deep 
 drifts, leaving spots of ground entirely bare. 
 
 The inmates of Lindenwood Hall had scarce left it 
 for more than a week ; but they had received a daily vis- 
 itor. No matter how cold, wet, or stormy, morning and 
 evening the light vehicle of Dr. Jenks, the family physi- 
 cian, was seen driving up the avenue, to the front en- 
 trance. 
 
 On the morning in question, Gertrude stood at the par- 
 lor window, hearkening impatiently for the sound of the 
 sleigh-bells. Her eyes were red and swollen with weep- 
 ing, and ever and anon she took her handkerchief from 
 her pocket, to wipe away the falling tears. " He cannot 
 get here," she murmured, as she gazed down the street 
 and saw ho ? completely it was blocked up with snow; 
 and, turning from the window, she ascended the stairs. 
 
 In a large, square chamber, at the back of the house, 
 the family were assembled ; for Louis lay pale and pant- 
 ing upon the bed. Yes, Louis was dying 
 
 He had for ien days suffered 1'rom an attack of con- 
 gestion of the lungs; and no skill had sufficed for his 
 11 121
 
 122 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 cure. The most tender mother could not have been more 
 watchful over an only and dearly beloved son, than was 
 Mrs. Stanley over this dear child of her adoption. For a 
 week she had not left his couch, and now, exhausted and 
 faint, she sat on the side of the bed, holding his head 
 upon her breast. Alice knelt before him. On the oppo- 
 site side of the bed stood the afflicted father. Not a tear 
 relieved his bursting heart. He stood gazing intently on 
 his only son, his ashy countenance resembling death, in 
 the calm rigidity of its suffering features. As he stood 
 there his soul cried out, in agony, '' Spare, Lord ! spare 
 me this stroke ! " How he longed for the arrn of strength 
 which supported his wife in this hour of trial ; nay, which 
 was safely carrying his beloved Louis across the deep 
 waters of Jordan. 
 
 Near the window, at the foot of the bed, sat Uncle 
 Stephen, and by him Clarence, who was saying some- 
 thing in a low, earnest tone. When Gertrude entered, 
 he advanced to her with great tenderness, took her hand,, 
 and led her to the seat he had occupied. Beyond Alice 
 sat Mrs. Carey, her face entirely concealed by her hand- 
 kerchief, with which she was vainly trying to stifle her 
 sobs. 
 
 xAt length the dying boy aroused from the stupor in 
 which he had been lying for more than an hour, and from 
 which they feared he would never awake, languidly 
 opened his eyes, gazed for a moment upward, and, turn- 
 ing his head slightly, recognized his father. Alice sprang 
 to her feet, and wet his lips with wine and water, when 
 feebly murmured " Papa." 
 His father bent over him, when he lisped, in a broken
 
 IN DISGUISE. * 
 
 voice, " I want yon io hold my head, and let all the rest 
 go out." 
 
 Trembling in every limb, Mr. Stanley did as his son 
 requested, and took the place of his wife to support his 
 dying boy. At a signal from her, the family retired 
 quietly from the room. 
 
 " Dear Papa," said the child, " please lay my head back 
 so I can see your face." When this was done, the slight 
 motion had so distressed him that he breathed with great 
 difficulty. With what hopeless sorrow did the poor 
 father witness the agony of this darling boy, and feel 
 that he could do nothing for his relief. After a short 
 pause Louis raised his eyes, and said in broken accents 
 " Papa, I'm going to God, and I'm not afraid, for Jesus 
 has pardoned my sins. But before I go I want you to 
 promise to meet me there." 
 
 Mr. Stanley bent forward in uncontrollable grief, and 
 tried to speak ; but his voice was thick and husky, and 
 the words indistinct. 
 
 The dying child gazed earnestly in his face, and con- 
 tinued, " Mother, and Alice, and Uncle Stephen, will go 
 because they love the Saviour! but oh, father ! I shall 
 want you and my sisters there ! " 
 
 The father groaned in agony. 
 
 " Jesus loves you, papa. He wants you to go. I have 
 prayed for you, and mamma prays every day that you 
 may become a Christian. I don't think you know how 
 much she loves you, and wants you to become good.'' 
 After another pause to rest, he added, u I have askec/ 
 mamma to give you my miniature, which she painted 
 and I want you to look at it, and think how much yo\v
 
 124 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGKL 
 
 little Louis wanted you to become good, and prepare fi; 
 go to Heaven. Will you, papa ? " 
 
 Mr. Stanley bowed ; he dared not trust himself tc 
 speak. 
 
 " You have been very, very kind to me, papa, and so 
 l;as my dear mamma ; and I want you to love her very 
 much. I have seen her kiss your picture a great many 
 times, and heard her pray, ' Oh, God, bless my dear hus- 
 band ! ' but she didn't know I saw her." 
 
 Again Mr. Stanley groaned, as he cried out, " Oh, 
 God, forgive me ! " 
 
 " And I iv ant my dear Alice to " his 
 voice faltered, and his head sank back more heavily on 
 his father's arm. Mr. Stanley hastily called " Marion ! " 
 apprehensive of his immediate death. 
 
 The young mother was instantly at his side. His eyes 
 were fixed ; one low sob, and the soul of little Louis 
 took its flight to its heavenly home. 
 
 Awe-struck and motionless at the presence of the dread 
 visitor, the family stood by the bed until the kind phy- 
 sician, who had silently entered, gently leaned forward 
 to close the eyes. Then, the awful reality burst upon 
 them, and amid weeping and lamentation, the bereaved 
 circle retired from the chamber of death. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley accompanied her husband to his study 
 where, for a time, he walked the floor in comfortless sor- 
 row. At length, she prays that the sorrowful event may 
 become a great and lasting blessing to her husband and 
 remaining children. After a moment he comes forward 
 and, kneeling by her side, ejaculates, " Pray for me ! " 
 
 Marion continued her supplications. She plead earn-
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 126 
 
 estly for her husband, wrestling like Jacob : " I will not 
 let thee go, except thou bless me." She seemed borne 
 on wings of faith and love to the mercy-seat, and there 
 boldly entered into the presence of the Eternal. Her 
 Saviour was interceding jn her behalf, and she received 
 an assurance that her prayer was heard. 
 
 The subject of her intercession was lost in wonder at 
 her fervency and importunity. " Is she then so earnest 
 in imploring a blessing upon me ? " he asked himself, 
 " and shall I not strive to attain the same grace which 
 supported my dear Emma, and my only son, in their 
 dying hour ? " The arrow of conviction penetrated his 
 heart. Who shall say it was not in answer to the 
 prayers of his wife and son? He bowed his head in 
 agony for his own guiltiness. The language of his heart 
 was, " God be merciful to me a sinner." 
 
 Marion arose, and silently left the room ; but he knew 
 it not. One thought alone occupied his mind : " Is there 
 mercy for me ? Can a holy God pardon guilt like mine? " 
 For a long time he despaired of mercy. 
 
 The day passed, and also the night ; but he still re- 
 mained locked in his study. When the servants knocked, 
 he made no reply. His wife gently called him by name, 
 but received no answer. Yet she heard his step as he 
 walked back and forth through the room, and retired to 
 her own chamber. Fatigued and exhausted as she was, 
 by incessant watching, yet she could not retire, but alter- 
 nately read portions of Scripture, and poured out her 
 heart before God. At a late hour she again descended 
 the stairs, passed noiselessly through the hall, and listened 
 at the study door. 
 
 11*
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANG1 L 
 
 What caused her heart to leap for joy, and sent thn 
 bright flush of heaven-inspired hope over her counte- 
 nance, as she raised her tearful eyes to Heaven ? Ah 
 her prayer is answered. For the first time, she hears the 
 voice of her beloved husband addressing his Maker, 
 Pressing her hands to her heart, she returns to her room, 
 and throwing herself upon a couch, gives vent to her joy 
 and gratitude until, at length, she falls asleep. 
 
 But with the first ray of light the devoted wife arises 
 from her couch, and again approaches her husband's 
 door. Hearing no sound, she knocks gently, saying, 
 " It is Marion." She hears him approach and unlock 
 the door; one moment more, and she is in his arms. 
 Happy pair, now truly united, by the enduring tie of 
 Christian love ; henceforth sharing, truly, each other's 
 hopes, and sympathizing in each other's fears ! 
 
 Mr. Stanley has not yet spoken of the heavenly peace 
 which has taken the place of his midnight despair. But 
 she reads it in the holy calmness which rests upon his 
 brow, in the gratitude and love which beam from every 
 feature. He is, indeed, a new man ; born of God, an 
 heir of glory. Thy faith, gentle Marion, hath inheriied 
 the promise, and saved thy husband. While thou didst 
 sleep, he was left like a lone voyager upon the sea of 
 time ; his bark wrecked, and his companions lost. He 
 cried aloud, attempting to save himself by the stray 
 waifs drifting in the current. Even these scon failed 
 him. He found there w r as no hope, and gave himself up 
 , to the rude tide, to be carried whithersoever it drifted. 
 Suddenly, he heard a voice of mercy, saying, " Look 
 unto me, and be saved." He raised his eyes to Heaven,
 
 IN DISGUISE. T-27 
 
 and from his inmost soul the cry went forth " Flelp, 
 Lord, or I perish." A strong arm was outstretched for 
 his relief. Eagerly he seized the offered help. He was 
 saved ! 
 
 On the evening of the same day, Mr. Stanley sent for 
 his family to his study, which had been to him as the 
 gate of heaven. Here for the first time he met them 
 since they stood side by side in the chamber of death. 
 
 All were present but Clarence, who had gone to T 
 
 for Emma and her sister. Gertrude was pale and sad, 
 and wept afresh at sight of her father. Alice nestled 
 close to her mother, and hid her swollen face upon her 
 shoulder. Uncle Stephen sat with his eyes shaded by 
 his hand, vainly trying to repress his sobs, while Mrs. 
 Carey, Sarah, and the other servants, occupied places 
 about the apartment, wondering why they had been 
 called together. At length, Mr. Stanley, in a voice 
 which was at first so tremulous as scarcely to be audible, 
 imparted to them the hope that out of his son's natural 
 death, God had brought unto him eternal life. " I have 
 found," he added, " the compassionate love of my Sa- 
 viour to be more than sufficient to compensate me foi 
 the loss of dear children and friends." 
 
 "Thank God! oh, thank God!" ejaculated Uncle 
 Stephen. 
 
 After a few moments, Mr. Stanley continued, " I have 
 called you all together to tell you that henceforth, by 
 grace assisting me, T hope to live a different life, and to 
 set before my family an example more worthy of imita- 
 tion. I have prided myself in being a moral and an 
 honorable man, and so perhaps I have been in the eyes
 
 1^ THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 of the world; but God has been pleased to open my 
 eyes to a sense of my vilene-ss, and I have found that 
 mere morality will not, cannot sustain one at the bed 
 of death." He then read* a short passage from Scrip- 
 ture, and called upon the family to kneel for prayer 
 Marion could hardly realize the happy change. Her 
 heart was ready to burst, and her eyes ran down with 
 tears. 
 
 The grief of the sisters when they arrived at Linden- 
 wood, rendered desolate by the loss of their dear brother, 
 showed itself in a manner characteristic of them. Emma 
 stood over the beloved form shrouded and coffined for 
 the sepulchre, and gazed tearfully upon the countenance 
 so lovely in death, while Edith, after one hurried glance 
 at the cold and lifeless body, rent the air with her 
 shrieks. Her convulsive sobs and doleful lament did 
 not, however, touch the heart of her father like the silent 
 sorrow of Emma ; and he hoped that this great affliction 
 might result in good to her soul. 
 
 The grief of Alice at the loss of her beloved compan- 
 ion at length convinced her kind friends that, however 
 paiuful the separation, it would be better to send her to 
 school with her sisters. Strange as it may appear, Mrs. 
 Stanley, and even her husband, felt more reluctant to 
 part with her than with one of their own children. In 
 the mind of the latter she was so intimately associated 
 with his deceased Louis, that he considered her almost 
 sacred. For so many years had they been seen con- 
 stantly together, that the bereaved father, as he saw her 
 approach, often detected himself in listening for the low 
 voice or the light footstep of his dear boy. But she
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 never foigot. Not once since he had passed from hei 
 sight had a smile been seen upon her lips. In the 
 presence of the family she seldom wept ; but she had 
 often been found alone in the bay window, the heavy 
 curtains shielding her from view, weeping as if her young 
 heart would break. She had carefully treasured up 
 every scrap of writing or drawing with which her dear 
 Louis had amused himself, and begged a box of her 
 mother for their preservation. When it was proposed to 
 her to accompany her sisters to school, she shrank from 
 the thought of going among strangers, and begged to be 
 allowed to remain at home. But one day, after a long 
 conversation with Clarence, she expressed her willingness 
 to do what her friends thought best. 
 
 At the same time, Uncle Stephen sought a private 
 interview with his nephew, during which he said it was 
 his wish to give Alice a thorough education, for which 
 purpose he would put money into his hands, and that he 
 would be glad if Mrs. Stanley would provide her a suit- 
 able wardrobe at his expense. His nephew decidedly 
 refused this kind offer. " She is as dear to me as an 
 own child," he added, earnestly, " and I promised my 
 lamented Emma I would educate her as such." 
 
 Uncle Stephen was not at all pleased that his little 
 protdgd should be taken out of his hands, and used many 
 arguments to persuade his nephew to consent. But Mr. 
 Stanley was firm. At length, however, he was induced 
 by the evident disappointment of his uncle to take the 
 money which had been designed to pay her expenses at 
 school, and to put it at interest for her use ; and with 
 this the benevolent old gentleman was obliged to con-
 
 130 THE HOUSEHOLD ANUEL 
 
 tent himself, saying, " I shall add to it the same sum 
 every year ; but I know you have too much good sense 
 to let the child or any one else suspect me in this mat- 
 ter." 
 
 In the month of June, the sisters, accompanied by 
 Alice, returned to school. Mr. Stanley, in private, urged 
 his daughters to treat her in every respect like an own 
 sister. This Emma's own heart prompted her to do, 
 but, from the haughty toss of Edith's head, her mother 
 had many fears in regard to the happiness of her adopted 
 child. 
 
 There were two in the family who rejoiced that the 
 young girl would go to school. These were Gertrude 
 and Mrs. Carey. The latter had been unwell ever since 
 the death of Louis, and her illness had brought on an 
 attack of her temporary insanity. At such times, the 
 sight of her child always aggravated her disorder, and 
 Mrs. Stanley had now procured a faithful woman to 
 remain with her as companion and nurse. This woman 
 was a widow from the village, in destitute circumstances, 
 who was very grateful for the home thus afforded for 
 herself and child. 
 
 Poor Alice had been very much troubled about her 
 mother ; but, as she had seen her afflicted in this man- 
 ner at times from her earliest childhood, the severity of 
 the trial was somewhat diminished. 
 
 Gertrude could ill conceal her pleasure at the depart- 
 ure of one whom she conceived occupied far more than 
 her share of the time and attention of Clarence. But 
 her pleasure was shortly changed to keen disappointment 
 and chagrin, when she found the reason of the child's
 
 IN DISGUISE. 131 
 
 willingness to go, and heard from Clarence that he 
 advised her to such a course in consequence of his 
 intending to be in Philadelphia for a year or two, and 
 therefore unable to teach her longer. 
 
 For a few days after this announcement, Gertrude 
 appeared so sad, her eyes, usually brilliant, were so 
 heavy, that the young man was constantly in danger 
 of breaking his promise to his guardian, and of beseech- 
 ing the pledge of her hand before he left. He even went 
 so far as to request to be released from it, but in this he 
 was entirely unsuccessful. Uncle Stephen would give 
 no reason, but said, promptly, " If she is what you deem 
 her, she will wait your return." 
 
 But the very day after this conversation, and while 
 the disappointed lover feared his guardian had forgotten 
 his own youthful feelings, he was forced by the change 
 in the young lady's manner to own that the delay might 
 in the end be promotive of his own happiness. Uncon- 
 sciously, his address had been more tender since her 
 evident sorrow at his intended departure. On the morn- 
 ing in question, he seated himself by her side, and at- 
 tempted to engage her in conversation. She listened 
 coldly, only replying by monosyllables, until at length, 
 in answer to some question, she turned haughtily toward 
 him, fixing her eyes full upon his, as she asked, coldly, 
 " What did you remark, sir ? " 
 
 Had an iceberg fallen upon him, he could not have 
 been more chilled. He could scarcely believe his senses. 
 He started from his seat, and, approaching the window, 
 stood for a long time gazing out upon the lawn. No 
 one but, her inether noticed ihr triumphant smile which
 
 K THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 curled her lip as she dropped her work to gaze at him 
 Daring Ihe day, he avoided her as sedulously as she did 
 him ; but after tea, when the diminished circle drew 
 around the centre-table, he took a seat near her, and 
 appeared determined to treat her with his usual atten- 
 tion. In truth, he had convinced himself her apparent 
 coldness had only been the result of his own imagina- 
 tion. He tried to devis*e some plan to draw her to a dis- 
 tance from the rest of the family, and offered to give 
 her one more lesson in drawing before he eft, when she 
 replied, " I have already wasted quite too much of your 
 time and my own, upon an accomplishment for which I 
 have no taste." 
 
 The entrance of company put an end to any farther 
 conversation ; and when Clarence saw her whom but 
 that very morning he had believed possessed of every 
 charm, arouse from her gloom and become the life of the 
 circle, evidently delighting in the thought that she had 
 inflicted pain upon him, he grew colder and more distant 
 than ever. She paid the most marked attention to a 
 gentleman who had called with a friend, at the same time 
 casting glances of triumph at her disconsolate lover, who 
 soon plead his early departure as an excuse for leaving 
 the room. 
 
 Uncle Stephen followed him, but his presence afforded 
 his ward but poor comfort, for never since the death of 
 Louis had he appeared so gay. He rubbed his hands, 
 and chuckled to himself merrily, as he saw Clarence 
 with knitted brows walking impatiently back and forth 
 through the room ; and at length could not forbear say-
 
 IN DISGUISE. 133 
 
 ing, " It's a hard thing to get one's eyes open ; but when 
 they are " 
 
 " Yes, when they are ! " interrupted Clarence, bitterly 
 * it i* not so easy to shut them again "
 
 CHAPTER XT. 
 
 " For true charity, 
 Though ne'er so secret, finds a just reward " Slay, 
 
 IN a room in one of the college buildings in New 
 Haven, a young man might be seen sitting in a large 
 rocking chair, with his feet on the table before him. He 
 had just returned from dinner, and on his way had taken 
 a letter from the post office. Now, having placed him- 
 self in what he considered a comfortable position, he pro- 
 ceeded to tear it open. From the deep flush which suf- 
 fused his cheek, as well as the smile playing about his 
 mouth, one might reasonably infer that the intelligence 
 was agreeable. When he had finished it, he opened a 
 smaller envelope it had contained, and disclosed a roll of 
 bank bills. " Generous friend ! " he exclaimed, aloud, 
 " how can I ever repay his kindness ? He says, by never 
 alluding to it. How little he realizes the difficulty of 
 keeping silent, when the heart is overflowing with grati- 
 tude." He counted the money, saw that there was more 
 than sufficient to pay all his college bills, then crossed the 
 room and locked it in his trunk ; after which he again 
 seated himself, with the open letter in his hand. It was 
 as follows : 
 
 " DEAR ALFRED : Your letter was duly received, and 
 perused with great pleasure. As you have at length 
 made up your mind to study for the ministry, I will con- 
 
 134
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL IN DISGUISE. 135 
 
 fess to you that nothing you could have told me regard- 
 ing yourself, would have given me equal pleasure. For 
 years I have hoped that you would choose the profession 
 to which your father devoted you in your infancy ; but I 
 have never, as you well know, expressed my hopes upon 
 this subject, fearing they might have undue weight. If, 
 however, as I hope and pray, you enter upon your studies 
 for the sacred work, from a desire to be wholly engaged 
 in your Master's service, and have not chosen it merely 
 as an honorable profession, though your trials may be 
 great, yet such, also, will be your reward. 
 
 u I have recently received letters from India, which I 
 will show you, if you feel a desire to comply with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Stanley's invitation, and spend the coming 
 vacation with us. As ever, your friend, 
 
 STEPHEN FORSYTH." 
 
 While Alfred Huntington reclines in his chair, with_his 
 eyes fixed dreamingly upon the name of his kind bene- 
 factor, let us go back twenty years, and learn the com- 
 mencement of their acquaintance. 
 
 During the fourth year of Uncle Stephen's residence 
 in India, and before he heard the sad intelligence which 
 blighted his hopes of happiness for this life, he was one 
 day introduced to Mr. Huntington, as a young Amer- 
 ican who was on the point of returning to his native 
 country, and who would be glad to take letters, or any- 
 thing he might wish to send. Mr. Forsyth gazed at him 
 in surprise, such was the sadness, amounting to mel- 
 ancholy, depicted on his fine, manly countenance, and
 
 136 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 remarked, " You hardly look as I should on the eve of 
 my departure for home." 
 
 " This is my home, my chosen field of labor," replied 
 the young missionary, " and it is the greatest trial I eve/ 
 experienced, to be obliged to leave it." 
 
 In the course of the conversation which followed, Mr. 
 Huntington related to his interested listener some of the 
 circumstances of his early history, when he \vas early 
 an orphan ; but, by the kindness of a charitable lady, 
 he had been educated for the ministry. The desire of his 
 life was answered when he was sent to India as a mis- 
 sionary, the bishop, who had always been a kind friend to 
 him, having interested himself particularly in his welfare. 
 He was married, and had had three children, one of 
 whom had died within a few hours of its birth. On his 
 arrival in Calcutta, he proceeded at once to his station, 
 about fifty miles from that place ; and he believed his 
 labors had not been entirely unsuccessful. Schools had 
 been established ; his wife, whose heart was wholly in 
 her work, had drawn around her about twenty females, 
 mothers of the children under their care, and was teach- 
 ing them the arts of civilization, at the same time that 
 she endeavored to instil the principles of the gospel into 
 their benighted minds. A small church had been gath- 
 ered, consisting of seven male and three female members. 
 " And now," said Mr. Huntington, with great emotion, 
 " we must abandon our little charge, our schools must be 
 given up ; now, when we have spent years in acquiring 
 the language, and when we have become so hopeful of 
 good to these poor ignorant natives, we must leave om 
 feeble church to be torn to pieces."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 137 
 
 ' But \vliy ? " asked Mr. Forsyth, eagerly. 
 
 " For want of means, my dear sir. A year age 1 was 
 notified that the usual sum had not been raised, and that 
 the society, though with great reluctance, had been 
 obliged to cut down the salaries of all their missionaries. 
 Now they have written that they can no longer support, 
 this station that they are obliged to give up all the" 
 new stations, and confine their operations to the larger 
 fields." 
 
 For a long time Mr. Forsyth sat with his head resting 
 on his hand. His companion, overcome with emotion, 
 walked with hasty strides through the apartment, occa- 
 sionally casting a glance of wonder at the man before 
 him, until at length he turned to leave the room. This 
 aroused Mr. Forsyth, and he started forward, saying, " I 
 will see you to-morrow," and abruptly took his depart- 
 ure. Summoning his servants, he was carried in a pal- 
 anquin to the house of a friend a few miles distant, from 
 whom he obtained satisfactory information concerning 
 the labors of Mr. Huntington, corroborative of what he 
 had already heard. The next day he called at the house 
 of the American merchant, who had invited the family 
 of "the missionary to remain with him until they sailed. 
 There he entered into conversation with the devoted 
 wife, who wept as she thought of leaving the children 
 she had so earnestly taught, and as she realized the dan- 
 ger of their forgetting all her instructions. Here he soon 
 learned that the whole expense of carrying on the small 
 mission was scarcely a quarter of his own income. His 
 only remaining doubt, namely, of his ability, was thus 
 removed. He crossed the room and caught his astonished 
 12*
 
 138 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 companion by the hand, when he suddenly blushed, stam- 
 mered, and became painfully confused. 
 
 " I shall ever be grateful to you for your sympathy," 
 said Mr. Huntington, kindly. 
 
 " Poh ! poh ! " exclaimed Mr. Forsyth, " I don't mean 
 to give you up. Go back to your work. I will see that 
 you receive regular supplies at least for one year." 
 
 In her eagerness to hear aright, Mrs. Huntington sprang 
 from her seat, wholly unmindful of the little boy clinging 
 to her dress, and advanced to the side of her husband. 
 With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, she ex- 
 claimed, " Oh. sir ! did you really mean that we may 
 stay in India, and labor for our poor Hindoos ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I said so ! " replied the young merchant, 
 while a sympathizing tear stood in his eye, and " here's 
 something that will convince you so. There, there, 
 enough has been said," as Mr. Huntington warmly pressed 
 his hand, and uttered a fervent " God bless and reward 
 you, sir ! I have no words to tell you how happy you 
 have made us." His wife caught Mr. Forsyth's bronzed 
 hand, and pressed it to her lips, saying, " In the name of 
 our ignorant, depraved people, we do, we must thank 
 you." She was interrupted by an impatient gesture, and 
 Uncle Stephen trying to leave the room ; but her hus- 
 band stepped forward to detain him. With his face per- 
 fectly radiant with happiness, he said, " We will not 
 offend you by expressing our gratitude for your bounty 
 to the heathen ; we will only ask your prayers to accom- 
 pany our efforts." 
 
 " 1 see you have mistaken me ; I am not a professing 
 Christian ; " and a deep shade passed over his face, " but
 
 IN DISGUISE. 139 
 
 I have a mother up there," said he, pointing to heaven, 
 u and a praying sister in America ; " and, before his com- 
 panions could say another word, he hastily left the house. 
 
 After his abrupt departure, the missionary and his wife 
 sat for some minutes in profound silence. They found 
 it difficult to realize the sudden change in their prospects, 
 and had it not been for the envelope which he held in his 
 hand, Mr. Huntington might have feared it was all a 
 dream. Upon opening the note he found it contained a 
 draft to the amount of two hundred dollars, and a prom- 
 ise of the same sum quarterly. This was three hundred 
 dollars in advance of the salary they had heretofore 
 received, and the visions of enlarged schools, with books 
 and apparatus, so overcame them that they gratefully 
 sank upon their knees, to give God the praise. 
 
 " Man's extremity is God's opportunity," said Mr. 
 Huntington to his wife, when they became more com- 
 posed. " This morning we expected to be obliged to 
 leave our little flock, and we feared lest the years of labor 
 among them would soon be forgotten ; but our great 
 Shepherd has watched over us, and provided for us. At 
 the very moment when our need was greatest, he has put 
 it into the heart of this good young man to come for- 
 ward to our relief." 
 
 
 
 > But little, even then, did they realize what a friend had 
 been raised up for them. They returned to their station, 
 where they were received with tumultuous joy, and glad- 
 dened the hearts of their pupils by collecting them again 
 into the school, enlarged their operations, and entered 
 with new zeal upon their work, feeling that God was 
 with them; "and they were prospered in the work of 
 their hands."
 
 140 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Two years after this, Mr. Forsyth returned to his na- 
 tive country ; but, before leaving India, he made ample 
 provision for Mr. Huntington, toward whose enterprise 
 he felt an increasing interest During the six years he 
 remained in America, he earned on a constant corres- 
 pondence with the mission ; and after his great afflictions 
 had been sanctified to his soul, he became more than 
 ever alive to the importance of such a work. On his re- 
 turn to India, though his means were less, he sent another 
 laborer into the field, as an assistant to Mr. Huntington, 
 depriving himself of some luxuries in living he had here- 
 tofore considered indispensable. During his residence of 
 sixteen years, he visited the station at stated intervals, 
 and every time he did so he blessed God for having put 
 it into his heart to do this great work. The school which, 
 on his first introduction to Mr. Huntington, was on the 
 point of being broken up, was now flourishing under the 
 efficient care of Mr. Potter, the assistant missionary, 
 whose wife also taught the girls. This seminary had 
 sent out twenty native Christian teachers, well educated 
 and fitted for their work. 
 
 Alfred, the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Huntington, 
 who had been spared to them, accompanied Clarence to 
 America qn his return a few years before his guardian, 
 who had offered to educate him. Mr. and Mrs. Hunting- 
 ton had learned to look upon their benefactor as a dear 
 Christian brother ; and when, in addition to his years of 
 kindness, he made this offer, their knowledge, of him led 
 them to suppress any acknowledgment but such as their 
 tearful eyes and beaming countenances afforded. They 
 gave up their only child to him, with perfect confidence
 
 IN DISGUISE. ill 
 
 in his protection and care. It had been their greatest 
 trial that their child could not receive a suitable educa- 
 tion, and now this was removed, they devoted themselves 
 with new diligence to the work in which they were PIJ- 
 gaged.
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 " I've sometimes grieved 
 
 That one so formed in mind and eharrns to grace 
 The brightest scenes in life, should have her seat 
 In the shadow of a cloud ; and yet 'tis weakness. 
 The angels watch the good and innocent, 
 And where they gaze, it must be glorious." 
 
 A LARGE party was again gathered in Lin den wood 
 
 Hall, making the house ring as of old, with merry voices. 
 Two years have passed since we last gathered with them 
 around the social hearth. To Mr. and Mrs. Stanley time 
 has brought no visible marks of advancing age ; but with 
 Emma, Edith, and Alice, the change has been great. 
 Edith is by far the tallest of the three, and, at the first 
 glance would by many be prone unced to be the hand- 
 somest But neither in the style of her beauty, nor in 
 her manner, did she at all resemble her sister Gertrude, 
 being a brilliant brunette, with luxuriant black hair dis- 
 posed very gracefully around her head, large black eyes, 
 and red, pouting lips, while her imposing and self-eon fi- 
 dent air, joined with a playful sarcasm in her conversa- 
 tion, had, among her school-mates, gained her the reputa- 
 tion of a genius and a wit. She had learned to curb 
 her temper, and now appeared a warm-hearted, impulsive 
 girl. To Mr. Huntington she seemed the most beautiful 
 and talented young lady he had ever met. 
 
 But Emma, who was two years older should have 
 
 142
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. I4b 
 
 been described first, yet she had so long learned tc 
 icau upon her younger sister, that she almost forgot 
 that Edith was her inferior in years. She had regular 
 features, light-blue eyes, and a very sweet moulh. Her 
 complexion was very pale, and rather sallow ; but she 
 was easy and graceful in her manners, and a very lov- 
 able young lady. At school one had been admired, the 
 other loved, by their companions. 
 
 Alice Carey is much more difficult to describe. There 
 was a perfect fascination about her ; and yet, one could 
 hardly tell in what it consisted. She was slightly below 
 the medium height. Her form was well-proportioned, 
 and full of symmetry and beauty. Her hair, which had 
 changed to a rich chestnut-brown, she still wore in curls, 
 which afforded a partial covering to the slender neck set 
 so gracefully upon her shoulders. Her broad, low fore- 
 head, her nicely-arched eyebrows, her clear, truth-telling 
 eyes, her rose-bud mouth, and her ever-varying com- 
 plexion, soft as that of an infant, impressed alike the 
 most casual, and the most critical, observer. But none 
 of these, nor all of them combined, constituted the charm 
 in the face of Alice. Perhaps it was her perfect uncon- 
 sciousness of her beauty, perhaps it was the intellect 
 which beamed from her eye. Her mother thought it was 
 the holy expression, which pervaded and animated every 
 feature. Alice was very happy. She had left school 
 wiih the highest honors, and was rejoiced to he again in 
 her dear home, and among her kind friends. She could 
 hardly restrain her joy. Sometimes, it bursts out in a 
 merry warble, inciting Fanny, her Canary bird, to stilJ 
 greater efforts ; then, it exhibits itself, in a desire to per-
 
 144 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 form some kind art of love to those around her. Nov.', 
 she places a foot-si ool for Uncle Stephen, whose eye fol- 
 lows her as she Hits here and there about the room ; next. 
 runs to set a chair for Mr. Stanley, then picks up a spool 
 for her mother, who rewards her with a fond kiss, and, 
 finally, springs to the window to shade the sun from the 
 eyes of Gertrude or Edith, or cheerfully performs some er- 
 rand to their room. And all this she does with such childlike 
 grace and activity that it is a delight to gaze upon her. 
 
 " Dear Uncle Stephen," said she, one day, when the 
 family were assembled in the parlor after dinner ; " How 
 glad I am that you have done wearing that velvet cap and 
 wig. Do you know," she whispered, " that you look 
 very handsome now that you have taken off those horri- 
 ble old goggles ? what did you ever put them on for ? " 
 she asked, looking archly in his face. 
 
 " Nonsense, child ! " he replied, catching her hand as 
 she was darting away ; " to prevent my seeing too much. 
 Some people are jn danger by seeing too little ; but I 
 was troubled with too much light. In order to be at all 
 comfortable, I was obliged to shade my eyes." 
 
 Alice laughed heartily at the curious expression which 
 passed over his face. 
 
 " There, take that, you little puss," exclaimed Uncle 
 Stephen, giving her a hearty kiss," and look out how you 
 come round here, catechising me, or 1 may have to get 
 out my speaking-trumpet again." 
 
 The young girl blushed deeply, as she saw the eyes 
 of the whole family directed to them ; but she replied, 
 gayly: " Please don't ; I'll try to be a good girl;" and 
 she withdrew to the other end of the room.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 145 
 
 " 1 should like to know," muttered the old gentleman 
 ro himself, ; ' when you ever were anything else." 
 
 I have as yet said nothing of Gertrude or of Clarence, 
 who had returned to Queenstown, and taken' an office in 
 the village ; though aft the earnest request of the family, 
 he retained his old room at the Hall, and took breakfast 
 and tea with them. As yet he had not much practice, 
 and generally spent a part of every afternoon with the 
 pleasant circle. He treated Gertrude with marked po- 
 liteness ; but she missed his former looks of love, and 
 felt that she was not now regarded by him as in former 
 years. She determined, however, to win him back ; for 
 though she had received several offers of marriage, her 
 affection for him had led her promptly to decline them. 
 Now that he was in a position to be married, and to 
 be permanently with them, she was fully assured of 
 success. 
 
 In the visits he had made to Lindenwood, during his 
 stay in Philadelphia, he had never been able to forget 
 her conduct on the evening before his departure. In all 
 his thoughts of her when absent, one image alone pre- 
 sented itself, and that was, of her as she turned coldly 
 and haughtily to him, saying : " I have wasted quite too 
 much of your time, and of my own, upon an occupation 
 for which I have no taste ; " and this, from one whom lie 
 had always considered lovely in her truthfulness, and 
 amiable in her character. 
 
 The weather had now become settled, and the young 
 people enjoyed many fine excursions, both walking and 
 on horseback. Clarence had purchased a fine horse for 
 the saddle, as he usually rode back and forth to the 
 
 ia
 
 146 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 village. Thru Alice, who had become a thorough eques- 
 trian, still retained her beautiful Felix, and Mr. Hunting- 
 ton had broken in a spirited animal, kept for the carnage. 
 For his daughters, Mr. Stanley procured saddle-horse* 
 from the stable. 
 
 During their first expedition, Alice accompanied them 
 She was arrayed in a riding-dress of dark-green cloth, 
 fitting neatly to her form, and displaying to advantage- 
 her fine bust and taper waist; and a jockey of green 
 velvet, with two plumes of the same color tipped with 
 black. As she stood on the steps of the portico, holding 
 the skirts of her riding-dress in one hand, she looked per- 
 fectly bewitching. At least, so thought Uncle Stephen. 
 She had been beseeching him to accompany her as her 
 especial knight, and while he laughed at her odd fancy, 
 and shook his head, he wondered where the eyes of the 
 young men could be, that they did not seek her as a com- 
 panion. She looked so lovingly at him, that he felt he 
 could refuse her nothing, and said, " Well, ivell, child, 
 some other lime, I'll see about it, if your heart is set upon 
 me for a companion, but not to-day." 
 
 " But, Uncle Stephen," she replied, with a comical ex- 
 pression of mock gravity, " I have no beau." 
 
 " Beau, indeed ! and what does such a child as yen are. 
 want of a beau ? Let me see, there are four lassies, and 
 two laddies. Here, Clarence, take care of this yivmg 
 miss, who is bewailing her want of a beau." 
 
 Clarence, who unobserved, had heard the whole con- 
 versation, started forward, saying in a low voice: "1 
 shall be most happy to resume my care of my fornief
 
 IN DISGUISE. 147 
 
 " Poor Alice ! " her smiles vanished in a moment , 
 the color mounted even to her brow, as she feared he 
 ivould think her soliciting his attention ; but she said, 
 quickly, " Oh, Uncle Stephen, how could you ! " and 
 turned abruptly away. 
 
 Clarence bit his lip with chagrin. He had never been 
 able to resume his former intimacy with her, since she 
 returned from school. During the ride she galloped in 
 advance of the party ; and if he attempted to follow, 
 made an excuse to ride back to the side of Emma. 
 
 Mr. Huntington kept close to Edith, who certainly 
 never appeared to better advantage than when on horse- 
 back. She sat like a queen, and evidently was aware of 
 it ; for she took unusual pains to torment her lover with 
 her assumed indifference. 
 
 Several times, when Clarence left Gertrude and rode 
 round by Alice, she appeared so really distressed that he 
 left her, determined to lose no time in ascertaining the 
 reason of her loss of confidence in him. Free, frank., 
 and open in her conduct to all, yet toward her formet 
 teacher she exhibited a shyness, and a disposition to 
 avoid his society, totally unlike her former childish affec- 
 tion. If she were singing gayly when he entered the 
 room, her voice suddenly ceased. If he took a seat near 
 her, she soon found an excuse to vacate her place. At 
 length, this change in her appearance became so marked 
 that the young lawyer was exceedingly pained by it 
 So much so, that often while seated in his office, with 
 his eyes fixed upon his papers, his thoughts, instead ol 
 bearing upon the case .in hand, were wandering to 
 Lindonwood, and there trying to solve a problem which
 
 148 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 was daily becoming more difficult, and also more intei 
 esting to him. One day, when alone with Mrs. Stanley 
 tie took an opportunity to converse with her about hei 
 adopted child. He commenced by asking : " Do not you 
 think Alice mucn changed ? " 
 
 " Yes," she responded, earnestly, " I think she grows 
 more lovely every day." 
 
 " But," continued Clarence, hesitating, " she is not as 
 artless and affectionate as formerly." 
 
 " You surprise me," exclaimed Mrs. Stanley. " She is 
 open as the day, and has the warmest heart I ever knew. 
 See what an influence she has acquired over Uncle Ste- 
 phen. He can never see any one else when she is 
 present." 
 
 " Oh," said Clarence, laughing ; " she is indebted to 
 the speaking-trumpet for that. Yes, I believe he con- 
 siders her a paragon of goodness." 
 
 After this conversation, however, Mrs. Stanley watched 
 her daughter, and became convinced that, for some cause, 
 she avoided receiving any attention from the young 
 man. 
 
 Two days after their first ride, it was proposed to visit 
 a beautiful glen about two miles distant. They were to 
 start early, taking a lunch with them, and pass several 
 hours at the place. When the arrangements were com- 
 pleted, Alice turned quietly to Gertrude, and offered her 
 the use of Felix. 
 
 " But what will you do ? " asked Gertrude, her coun- 
 tenance brightening with pleasure. 
 
 " I am not going," was the quiet response. 
 
 u Why ? why ? " asked many voices.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 149 
 
 " I cannot stay to give all my reasons," she answered, 
 laughing, and blushing, as she met a pair of blue eyes 
 fixed half-reproachfully upon her ; " but hereafter I will 
 try to persuade Uncle Stephen to ride with me, at an- 
 other time, so that you can have him for your excur- 
 sions." 
 
 " Thank you ! thank you ! " exclaimed Gertrude, as 
 Alice was leaving the room. 
 
 " With her own hands the young girl put up cold 
 chicken, sliced ham, with sandwiches and tarts ; then 
 ran to her room to procure her jockey for Gertrude, who 
 preferred it to her own ; then stood upon the steps, with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, to see them start, wishing them a 
 happy day, and a safe return. 
 
 Uncle Stephen was not at all satisfied that his favorite 
 should remain at home ; but she archly told him, she 
 would compel him to say differently before the day 
 closed. She read to him. sang for his especial benefit all 
 his favorite songs, until he was obliged to resort to his 
 handkerchief to wipe the moisture from his eyes. She 
 talked to him of her school companions, and her studies, 
 and, indeed, she had never appeared half so cheerful and 
 happy. 
 
 After dinner, she mesmerized him by combing his thin, 
 gray hair ; then, when he lay back in his easy-clmir, his 
 nasal organs giving sure evidence of the soundness of 
 his slumber, and not till then did she retire to her own 
 room. When there, her over-excited feelings found vent 
 in tears, for she had denied herself the -pleasure of join- 
 ing the party, from a stern sense of duty, and she felt 
 keenly the disappointment. Poor child! her heart wag
 
 150 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 all in a tumult, and for a time she could only weep ; but 
 at length her tears, though bitter, brought relief, and she 
 began to look calmly at her own situation. For Alice 
 loved ; yes, with her whole heart she loved her teacher. 
 But the conviction which had so lately been forcing itself 
 upon her mind, brought no pleasure, but the keenest 
 mortification and self-reproach. She laid her head upon 
 her arms, and almost unconsciously her thoughts went 
 back to his arrival at Queenstown. She was but a child 
 then ; but oh, how kind he had been to her, and to Louis. 
 Her tears flowed afresh as she thought of her dear little 
 companion, to whom she could have confided all her 
 grief; but now she must keep it locked up in her own 
 breast. Then how unwearied had he been in instructing 
 her, how interested in all her welfare. While at school 
 her great desire was, though unacknowledged even to 
 herself, to convince him that his pupil had honored his 
 instructions. How earnestly she had counted the weeks, 
 then the days, Refore her return home, because her 
 mother had written that Clarence was to be there. 
 But oh, how changed to sorrow and chagrin were all her 
 bright anticipations ! 
 
 A day or two after her return, she heard Gertrude and 
 Edith in earnest conversation about Clarence. " I ha \re 
 every reason," said Gertrude, " to know that he loves me ; 
 indeed, he has often told me so ; but he does not wish it 
 known at present, especially to Uncle Stephen ; so be 
 very careful not to betray us." 
 
 " Oh, I'll remember," answered Edith ; " but 1 advise 
 you to keep Alice out of his way, until you're positively 
 engaged. I wouldn't allow Alfred to give such glances
 
 IN DISGUISE. !")! 
 
 to another, as I have seen Clarence bestow upon 
 Alice." 
 
 " Nonsense, Edith ! He considers her as a child ; and 
 you know she always puts herself forward ; but I do 
 wonder what there is about her he considers so won- 
 derful." 
 
 She could hear no more. Pressing her hands tightly 
 upon her heart, she quietly left the room, and retired to 
 the little closet, where she had formerly slept. There she 
 sat, for hours, almost stupefied. It was then she first be- 
 came aware of the nature of her affection for her teacher ; 
 else, why should she be so pained at. hearing that he 
 had already declared his love for Gertrude. When it 
 commenced she knew not ; but she was crushed beneath 
 a sense of shame and mortification that she, the daugh- 
 ter of a nursery woman, should have bestowed her love, 
 unsought, upon any one; but above all, upon a man she 
 considered superior to all she had seen. Yes, in that 
 dark hour, she tore off the mask, and looked at herself 
 without disguise. What if, for the sake of his deceased 
 wife, Mr. Stanley had treated her like -a daughter ! 
 What if Louis had loved her like a sister ! What if 
 her dear Mrs. Stanley had been more than a mother to 
 her, and Uncle Stephen her kind benefactor! She was 
 no less the child of poverty and dependence. How 
 dared she then to harbor such feelings for one moment ? 
 She bowed her head upon her hands, and prayed for 
 strength to overcome; and strength was given her. 
 She went out from that humble closet with firm resolves, 
 with noble purposes, with full determination to root out 
 every lingering feeling of affection for the one srie had
 
 I'JZ THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 so long and so unconsciously loved. But this resolution 
 was not so easy to carry into effect. Ev-ery time she 
 beheld him, she saw more in his character to esteem 
 and respect, and not many days passed before she fouiu] 
 her only safety was in avoiding his presence.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " It was sufficient that his wants were known ; 
 True charity makes others' wants its own." 
 
 Dauborne. 
 
 LINDENWOOD was about a mile from the village of 
 Qucenstown, and for nearly half that distance there 
 were no houses except those belonging to servants from 
 the tTall. The town contained between three and four 
 thousand inhabitants, who were divided into four reli- 
 gious denominations the Episcopal, (to which Mr. 
 Stanley's family belonged,) the Orthodox, the Methodist, 
 and the Universalist. An academy was located there, 
 which, during the summer season, was quite full, as the 
 public schools were in session but half the year. It was 
 this academy the young ladies from Lindenwood had 
 
 attended until they went to T to give a finish to 
 
 their education. 
 
 Queenstown was considered a very desirable place for 
 a residence, not only on account of the beauty of its 
 location, the facilities afforded by the boat and cars for 
 reaching the neighboring city, and the quiet, peaceable 
 character it had acquired, but also from the number of 
 educated, refined families who had chosen it as their 
 home. Here it was that young Sydney had taken an 
 office as attorney, and here it was the scenes of the 
 pre.-rnt chapter transpired. 
 
 For several days the weather had been stormy, so that 
 
 153
 
 154 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 the party of young people at Lindenwood had been 
 confined within doors, but on Tuesday morning the sun 
 rose in cloudless splendor, flinging his bright rays on 
 every side. After breakfast an excursion was planned 
 for the afternoon, when Clarence could join them. They 
 were merrily discussing it, and anticipating its pleasures, 
 when the door opened, and Alice entered, equipped for a 
 ride. 
 
 " So soon ready ? " exclaimed Uncle Stephen, and he 
 let his paper fall to the floor as he started in haste to 
 meet her. 
 
 " Why, Alice, where are you going ? " inquired half a 
 dozen voices ; but she only smiled and shook her head, 
 while the old gentleman hurried from the room to pre- 
 pare to accompany her. Her neatly fitting boddice dis- 
 played to great advantage her beautifully rounded form, 
 and as she stood, gracefully holding up her long skirt, 
 exposed to view the toe of a tiny gaiter matching in 
 color her dress. The surprise she had given them, and 
 the interest awakened as to the cause of her early start, 
 had lent a deeper tint to her fair complexion, while the 
 dimples were playing about her mouth as she tried to 
 evade their inquiries. 
 
 The young attorney gazed earnestly upon her, and 
 thought his eyes had never rested upon a lovelier object ; 
 but he suddenly caught a glimpse of Gertrude, who 
 stood behind him, and her countenance was so full of 
 bitterness that poor Alice started from her in terror. 
 
 At that moment Uncle Stephen entered, grumbling, 
 " I'm making a fool of myself. I've not mounted a 
 horse for twenty years. There'll be amusement enough
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 for the whole town, to see the old codger escorting a 
 fair lady through the main streets. I dare say she'll 
 make me parade myself everywhere." 
 
 He stopped short on seeing that Alice did not, as 
 usual, make any reply to his bantering, and was rea.lv 
 distressed, as they stood waiting at the door for the 
 horses, to see that she silently wiped a tear from her eye. 
 " There, child," he commenced, " I'll take it all back, old 
 barbarian as I am," when Clarence, who was standing 
 by his side, whispered, " Take no notice now. It is 
 nothing you have said," when his thoughts turned in 
 another direction, and he replied, " If you've worried 
 her, I'L -- " 
 
 There is no knowing what he would have said, for 
 Alice sprang down the steps, and, before Clarence could 
 reach her, placed her foot in the outstretched hand of 
 the hostler, and sprang lightly to her seat. The young 
 man, much annoyed, turned to his uncle, who was 
 really making a great effort in order to oblige his little 
 friend. Three times the animal was led to the block, 
 and the awkward attempt of the rider caused him to 
 shy off, so that it was necessary to turn him, and lead 
 him up again. " I shall give it up next time," he ex- 
 claimed, petulantly, and you may take my place, boy." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " said Alice, earnestly. The instant she 
 had spoken, the color mounted to her very brow, and, as 
 she met the expression of sad reproach in Clarence, she 
 added, quickly, " I will dismount; I will give no one the 
 trouble to accompany me ; I do not care to go now." 
 
 But this time Uncle Stephen had been successful, and 
 they started off, when Clarence reluctantly returned to
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 the parlor, and said that he might be prevented from 
 coining home in season to join them, but he hoped his 
 absence would not prevent their going, as Mr. Hunting 
 ton was with them. Before he arrived at his office, lie 
 made a determination to seek an explanation from Alice 
 herself of her evident avoidance of him. He began to 
 suspect that she was not treated with kindness by every 
 member of the family. 
 
 In the meantime, the subject of his thoughts was 
 trying to forget that anything unpleasant had occurred. 
 and to render herself as agreeable as possible to her kind 
 benefactor, who had taken so much pains to give her 
 pleasure. After a cheerful conversation, as they rode 
 slowly on, she told him she thought it was quite time 
 she was doing something for her own support. " If I 
 have kind friends," she continued, " that is no reason 
 why I should be a burden to them." 
 
 " Humph ! " replied Uncle Stephen, " all stuff and 
 nonsense"! Pray, what can you do ? Teach an acad- 
 emy, hey ? " 
 
 Alice was too much accustomed to his manner to feel 
 at all discouraged by his remark ; so* she pleasantly re- 
 plied, "I can do some things better than anybody in 
 the world, yourself being judge." 
 
 What, pray ? " 
 
 " Why, combing your hair, for instance, or reading 
 you to sleep." 
 
 Her .companion stopped his horse in his eagerness to 
 reply. " Well, child, I have a plan, so set your heart at 
 rest. I'll employ you to wait upon me, and humor all 
 my whims, which you have done for years without pay.
 
 I\ DISGUISE. l')7 
 
 Now, I'll pay you well, so that you'll have no desire to 
 run around seeking other service." 
 
 Whatever Alice thought of this proposal, she had no 
 4 .ime to reply, for just then her attention was called to a 
 child apparently about three or four years of age. who 
 was running along on the sidewalk, crying bitterly. The 
 equestrians stopped then; horses, and inquired the cause 
 of her sorrow. At first the child was frightened, and 
 did not answer ; but Alice said, tenderly, " Little girl, 
 can't you tell me what is the matter with you ? " 
 
 " My ma is sick," at length she sobbed out. 
 
 " What is your name, my dear? " 
 
 " Lizzie Gates." 
 
 " And where does your mother live ? " 
 
 " There," pointing to a small house a few rods distant 
 
 " Well, run on, and I will go with you, and see what 
 I can do for her. Will you stop for me ? " she added, 
 turning to Uncle Stephen, " or will you ride on, and call 
 for me when you return ? " 
 
 ' k Never mind me, child. I'll wait here, but I don't dare 
 lo get off, for fear I never could mount again." 
 
 When the young girl entered the humble abode, she 
 saw a woman sitting in a low chair, with a babe across 
 her lap, while her head was resting on her arms, that lay 
 upon the table. Lizzie pulled her mother's dress to call 
 her attention, but she only moaned in reply, until the 
 child said, " Ma, see the lady." The poor woman raised 
 her head, and displayed a countenance pale as death, 
 except her eyes, which were swollen and red with weeping. 
 
 ' Your little girl told me you were ill," said Alice, 
 advancing toward her. " Can I assist you ? " 
 14
 
 158 THE HOUSEHOLD AXGKL 
 
 Mrs. Gates burst into tears. " No, no ! " she sobbed 
 -.ut; " nothing can do me any good." 
 
 The tone was so despairing and heart-broken that the 
 young girl was deeply moved. She sat down on a low 
 stool near her, and, taking Lizzie upon her lap, said, 
 kindly, " You must try to feel comforted for the sake of 
 1 liis dear little girl ; and what will the baby do if you 
 give way to your grief?" She had touched the right 
 chord a mother's love. Perhaps it was the only one 
 which would at this time have vibrated to the touch. 
 The tears of the poor woman still flowed, but she be- 
 came more composed, and soon was able to relate, 
 though with much shame, the cause of her trouble. Her 
 husband, who was a blacksmith, had a profitable busi- 
 ness, and had supported his family well, until the owner 
 of the public house, with a company of others, built a 
 bowling saloon. He was enticed there to see them play; 
 then he himself played, until he spent every evening in 
 gambling. At length he gave up business entirely, and 
 passed his time lounging about the hotel. He had 
 plenty of money, but she did not know how he obtained 
 it. The night before, there had been a robbery com- 
 mitted in the village, and, as soon as it was light, her 
 husband was apprehended, and placed in confinement to 
 await his trial. " But he never did that," she added, 
 vehemently; " he never would commit such a crime, to 
 bring disgrace on himself and me. But the others will 
 try to prove it upon him, and he'll be carried to prison ; 
 and then what will become of us ? " and she pressed 
 her babe convulsively to her breast. 
 
 " When is he to be tried ? " asked Alice.
 
 IN DISC UISL. 159 
 
 " They said they were taking him to a magistrate at 
 once." 
 
 " You say the robbery was last night; was your hus- 
 band at home through the night ? " 
 
 The poor woman cast down her eyes in great confu- 
 sion, as she faltered out, " He came home about mid- 
 night." 
 
 After a short pause, Alice arose to go, saying, " Mr. 
 Stanley, with whom I live, is a magistrate, and he may 
 be the one who will try him. At any rate, I think I can 
 promise, if his case is not already decided, that he will 
 have jusiice done him in his trial. I have a dear friend, 
 who is a lawyer, and I will ask him to examine the case. 
 If your husband is innocent, he shall be befriended." 
 
 Mrs. Gates leaned forward with parted lips, eager to 
 catch every word of her young comforter. It would 
 have been a beautiful scene for a painter. There was 
 the poor young wife, with her babes clinging to her side, 
 eagerly gazing into the bright face of the young lady, 
 who in cheerful tones was endeavoring to inspire her 
 with hope and trust for the future. " I will see you 
 again to-morrow," she added, going towards the door. 
 In the meantime, have you sufficient for yourself and 
 children ? " 
 
 "Oh, ye.s, miss! quite enough; and who knows but 
 Justin will be cleared, and return to his work, and then 
 how happy we shall be ! " She caught up her babe to 
 hide her tears of joy at the thought. 
 
 "My iiood woman," said Alice, meekly, "you must 
 pray that Clod \\ill bring good out of this trial. He is 
 able to convert this affliction into a great blessing. It
 
 160 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 may be the means of showing your husband the clanger 
 of evil companions, so that he will shun them in future.' 
 
 " Oh, miss ! you talk so much like my dear mother ! 
 She taught me to pray ; but, since I was married, I 
 have had so much to take up my time, I have forgotten 
 all about, her instructions. After Justin was carried off, 
 I did try to ask God to let his innocence be known ; but 
 I gave it up. I couldn't expect he'd hear me when I've 
 been so forgetful of my duty to him." 
 
 Alice sprang forward, and caught her hand, saying, 
 " Do not give up praying. Ask him to forgive all your 
 sins for Christ's sake, and to make your husband a good 
 Christian. Will you do this ? " 
 
 The breast of the woman heaved convulsively, and 
 she bowed her head in token of assent as the young girl 
 paused. 
 
 " Good bye, then ; I hope to bring you good news to- 
 morrow. Good bye, Lizzie ; I will come again soon." 
 
 As she started quickly toward the door, all at once 
 she remembered that Uncle Stephen was waiting for 
 her ; but, when she stepped into the entry, to her sur- 
 prise she saw him sitting upon a low stair, and exhib- 
 iting traces of deep emotion. Making a quick sign for 
 her to keep silent, he thrust a well-filled purse into her 
 hand, at the same time pointing to the room she had left. 
 But Alice shook her head as she whispered, " Another 
 time," and they went out quietly together. Approaching 
 the fence where she had tied her horse, Alice was won- 
 dering how she should contrive a step for Uncle Stephen, 
 when a laboring man came by, and offered his assist ance, 
 with which the old gentleman was once more safely
 
 IN DISGUISE. 161 
 
 seated upon his horse. But Alice secretly determined 
 the next time she invited him to accompany her, to take 
 some conveyance which would not subject him to such 
 inconvenience. She would have preferred returning im- 
 mediately home in order to consult Mr. Stanley about 
 the trial ; but, as her companion did not propose it, with 
 the self-denial which had become a part of her nature, 
 she rode on for nearly a mile. On their return they saw 
 Clarence coming out of a book store, and, forgetting 
 everything else in her joy at meeting him thus early, she 
 eagerly beckoned him to her side. " Oh, Clarence ! " she 
 exclaimed, joyfully ; " I'm so glad to see you. We have 
 found a poor woman in great distress, and I promised 
 her that you would interest yourself for her." She then 
 proceeded to give a brief account of Mrs. Gates and her 
 family, to which there was no want of pleased attention 
 on the part of the lawyer. He promised to go directly 
 and see the woman, and learn if there were any facts to 
 throw light on the case. 
 
 " I knew you would ! " exclaimed Alice, with a glowing 
 countenance. 
 
 Almost unconsciously Clarence stood watching them 
 until they were out of sight, when he turned and walked 
 quickly to Mrs. Gates's. Her tone and manner had car- 
 ried him back to the time when she used to run to him 
 with a story of distress, as if she felt sure he would re 
 lieve them if it was in his power. The words, " I knew 
 you would," so frankly uttered, rang in his ears, caused a 
 bright smile to play around his mouth, and rendered his 
 step more elastic. He determined to do all he could foi 
 14*
 
 162 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 the release of the man, if, as she supposed, he had been 
 made the tool of his more depraved companions. 
 
 It is unnecessary to narrate his interview with Mrs. 
 Gates, or the one with her husband that followed. In 
 the latter he became convinced of the innocence of Mr 
 Gates in the robbery, though the young man confessed, 
 with shame, the wicked course of idleness and sin he 
 had pursued for a few months. Suffice it to say, that 
 when he returned at a late hour for tea, he carried Alice 
 the report of Gates's release, and the conviction of two 
 of his associates. She listened with tears as he recounted 
 the joy of the young wife at the restoration of her hus- 
 band, which Clarence assured her she ascribed entirely to 
 the influence of the kind lady who called to see her. He 
 did not, however, repeat what Mrs. Gates had said of her 
 visitor, whom she considered an angel sent from heaven 
 to comfort her in her distress ; nor how a simple question 
 she had asked concerning the relation existing between 
 himself and her, had caused his heart to beat with sunny 
 hope. He was too happy in her returned confidence to 
 think of the past ; and until the arrival of the party of 
 equestrians, an hour or two later, he gave himself up to 
 the enjoyment of the present hour. Alice had never ap- 
 peared more cheerful ; her clear eyes shone with a pure 
 light, and a beaming smile played around her small 
 mouth. 
 
 Uncle Stephen gayly described his own awkwardness in 
 dismounting at Mrs. Gates's door, and the merry laugh 
 he had occasioned a group of boys who were playing 
 near. " In trulh," he added, Alice was gone so long, I 
 Was afraid some evil had befallen her, esepcially as she
 
 IX DISGUISE 163 
 
 had just been imparting to me her wild scheme of setting 
 up for herself." 
 
 Alice tried to cover his mouth, but he continued, " No, 
 ohild, you deserve to be punished for your naughty 
 thoughts. She wants to be more independent, and be 
 able to act according to her own fancies ; but I soon put 
 a stop to her rebellion, and I've taken her into my ser- 
 vice. She is to do just as I tell her, and I'm to well, 
 no matter what I'm to do ; so look out and not inter- 
 fere with her," glancing toward u'larence, who appeared 
 half amused and half annoyed. " I wont have her wor- 
 ried. But seriously, child, what could put such thoughts 
 into your head ? Aren't you happy here ? What do you 
 think I should do without somebody to scold, or to bring 
 me to reason when I'm out of humor ? " 
 
 For a moment the poor girl appeared much embar- 
 rassed ; but then, thinking that the present might be the 
 most favorable time for mentioning her plan, she said, 
 endeavoring to speak calmly, " It is not a new thought 
 with me. Indeed, I can hardly remember when it first 
 occurred to me ; but by your kindness, my dear friends, 
 I have received a thorough education, and can therefore 
 not only relieve myself from being dependent upon your 
 bounty, but hope I may prove myself useful in some 
 humble situation. If my presence were necessary to my 
 poor mother, I should feel it my duty to remain with her; 
 but as it is not, I have long thought I ought to make 
 some use of the education furnished me by your kind- 
 ness." 
 
 For one moment no one spoke. Astonishment at the 
 words of the young girl kept them silent. They had
 
 164 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 been so much in the habit of considering her as a child 
 that at was difficult to realize that she had ever indulged 
 a thought of acting for herself. Clarence started forward 
 eagerly, but Mrs. Stanley drew the child of her adoption 
 closer to her heart, while her husband, who was much 
 affected, said. " Alice, when your little companion, Louis, 
 was dying, 1 promised him that I would be a father to 
 you, and give you a home ; you would not wish me to vio- 
 late that pledge." 
 
 His manner was so solemn that she could only reply 
 by her tears, as she caught his hand and pressed it to he) 
 lips. 
 
 Uncle Stephen arose and walked hastily from the 
 room, when Mr. Stanley continued, " My dear child, let 
 me hear no more of this. Your mother," glancing at his 
 wife, " cannot spare you. There is only one condition," 
 he added, pleasantly, " in which I shall give my consent 
 to your leaving us, and that is when a husband claims 
 you." 
 
 Poor girl! a conscious fear suffused her cheeks and 
 brow with a burning blush, as she replied in a low voice, 
 " That time will never come." 
 
 The sound of the returning party put a sudden termi- 
 nation to the conversation ; but not before Clarence had 
 taken her hand, saying, " Dear Alice, remember wher- 
 ever you go, and whatever you do, you have one firm 
 friend." 
 
 " Thank you," she replied, without raising her eyes ; 
 " I love to think it is so." 
 
 The tall and queenly Edith entered first, having, in the 
 company of her admirer, passed a delightful afternoon
 
 IN DISGUISE. 165 
 
 Her sisters soon followed, with Mr. Huntington. Ger- 
 trude was weary and out of spirits, and exceedingly 
 annoyed to find Clarence at home with Alice. During 
 the half hour which followed, she was so ill-humored, and 
 spoke so sharply to the young girl, who had run to assist 
 in bringing the supper upon the table, that even her 
 father noticed it, and when Alice had left the room, said 
 reprovingly, " My daughter, I cannot allow you to speak 
 so unkindly to your sister." 
 
 " What sister ? " asked Gertrude, opening, to their ful 
 lest extent, her large eyes. 
 
 " Alice ; and I wish to have her treated, in every re- 
 spect, as if she were really such." 
 
 An expression of scorn distorted her beautiful features, 
 as she replied, " I thought my father had too much pride 
 to adopt the child of a servant. However, it is nothing 
 to me " 
 
 " I think," suggested Edith, proudly drawing herself 
 up, " it ought not to be expected of us to treat her 
 as we do each other. I'm sure I wish her well, only if I 
 were in her situation, I would prefer to live independ- 
 ently, even in the capacity of cook or chambermaid." 
 
 It was well for the haughty girls that Uncle Stephen 
 was not present, else they might have received a sharp 
 reproof from him. 
 
 The bitter words of Gertrude had caused the scales to 
 fall from the eyes of youngs Sydney, who wondered how 
 he could ever have been so blinded ; and emotions of 
 gratitude sprang up in his breast that he had not bound 
 himself to her forever. When Alice came to the door 
 and gayly informed them supper was ready, he hastily
 
 166 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 [eft the room in search of his guardian, and found him 
 vigorously walking back and forth, through the suite of 
 rooms occupied by them. After sitting for a few mo- 
 ments with his head resting on his hand, and finding hia 
 companion took no notice of him, Mr. Sydney arose, and 
 passing the hand of his kind friend through his arm, 
 joined him in his walk. 
 
 " I believe the child does it on purpose to torment me," 
 soliloquized the old gentleman. " Wish I were twenty 
 years younger, I'd give her a home in good earnest, and 
 a husband, too ! " 
 
 " Who are you complaining of? " asked Clarence. 
 
 " Why, of Alice, and all of you. I don't see where 
 your eyes are. So stupid of you not to see what's for 
 your own good." 
 
 " I am glad to assure you," replied the young man, 
 archly, though it must be confessed with a heightened 
 color, " that at length we view one subject alike ; " and 
 he uttered a few words in the ear of his guardian, which 
 operated like magic. He caught Clarence by the shoul- 
 ders, and, holding him at arms' length, gazed earnestly 
 in his face. Then assured that he had heard correctly, 
 he started suddenly forward, and bestowed his approba- 
 tion in the shape of a hearty kiss, after which he sat 
 down and began to laugh and cry at the same moment. 
 " I declare," he sobbed, wiping his eyes, " it makes me 
 young again. There, go and bring her here ; I want to 
 give the child my blessing." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " exclaimed the young man ; u I have never 
 given her any intimation of the state of my affections. I 
 wish I were as certain of obtaining her consent as I was
 
 IN DISGUISE. 107 
 
 of obtaining yours." He then spoke of the reserve which 
 she had of late manifested toward him, and the difficulty 
 he found in speaking with her, except in the presence of 
 Ihe family. 
 
 " Now hear me ! " exclaimed Uncle Stephen, bringing 
 his fist with great emphasis down upon his knee. " It's 
 all the work of that artful Gertrude. Oh ! 1 see it all. 
 There is no end of her hints about dependants thrusting 
 themselves forward, and all that sort of thing. No won- 
 der they make her shy. Well, manage it your own way ; 
 but mind, now, if she wont have you, she's got. to take 
 me, that's settled. I wont be bothered with the little 
 iade's fancies about going off to be a governess." 
 
 Entirely unconscious that subjects so nearly relating 
 to herself were discussed within a few feet of her own 
 room, Alice retired early. Her thoughts were all in 
 confusion, and she longed to be alone, to commune with 
 her own heart. The question of her leaving Lindenwood 
 was settled, and she was troubled and vexed at herself 
 for being pleased that duty called her to stay ; for she 
 could but acknowledge that it would be ungrateful and 
 wrong for her to insist upon a line of action which her 
 friends disapproved friends whose care and affection 
 entitled them to the greatest confidence. " And yet," she 
 repeated to herself, " if they knew all, they would be the 
 very ones to advise my removal; but as it is, [ must 
 struggle alone." 
 
 Her thoughts gradually grew more indistinct, and she 
 fell asleep. In her dreams she again visited the young 
 wife, accompanied her to the prison to see her husband, 
 when to her intense surprise she found the prisoner waa
 
 L68 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 Clarence. His deep blue eyes seemed to gaze earnestly 
 into hers, as he implored her to procure his release ; and 
 when she promised to do this, his ardent expressions of 
 gnititude as he clasped tightly her hand, caused hei 
 heart to beat wildly.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " It is more blessed to give than to receive." Christ. 
 
 THE day following the events of the preceding chap- 
 ter. Mr. Huntington was to return to college. 
 
 Soon after Clarence had left, for his office in the village, 
 A-lice knocked at the door of Uncle Stephen's parlor, to 
 see whether he were ready to accompany her to the house 
 of Mrs. Gates. She started back on seeing that he was 
 not alone. The old gentleman put his purse Jnto her 
 hand, as he said, " I cannot go with you this morning. I 
 entrust this to you. Do not fail to call upon me for 
 more, if you need it. Now is the time to make a strong 
 impression upon the man. If needful, he must be set 
 up in business, and encouraged to return to good habits." 
 
 " Good bye, Mr. Huntington," said Alice, presenting 
 her hand. " I suppose you will leave before I return." 
 
 " Good bye, Miss Alice," he replied. " I wish you 
 much success with your proteges." 
 
 She had intended proposing to ride in the carriage, as 
 she knew that would be more pleasing to him ; but now 
 (hat she was going alone, she preferred riding Felix, so 
 she rang the bell for the servant to bring round the horse, 
 gayly bade Mrs. Stanley good morning, and soon was on 
 her way to the village. Upon knocking at the door she 
 was rather surprised to find no sign of life about the 
 premises, and stepped hack to see if she had not mis- 
 
 15 169
 
 L70 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 taken the house. No, there was the very stair where 
 Uncle Stephen had sat. She knocked again, and louder 
 rhan before ; and soon Mrs. Gates made her appearance, 
 with her babe in her arms. An expression of great 
 pleasure brightened her countenance, but this was quickly 
 succeeded by tears. " Justin is very sick," she whis- 
 pered, " very sick, ma'am. He don't know me or the 
 children. The Doctor says it's the nervous fever, pro- 
 duced by the excitement of yesterday. Oh! it would 
 make your heart ache to hear him talk. He has con- 
 fessed all his sins over and over again; and when he 
 came home, he told me he meant to be a different 
 man from what he has ever been. When I repeated 
 what you said, he did not answer for some time, and 
 then he sighed and said, ' Maria, if I'd lived as my 
 mother taught me, this would never have happened. 
 We both resolved, last night, to try to be good, and to 
 teach our children as we were taught, out of the Bible. 
 But now he may never get well,'" and the poor woman 
 put her apron to her face to hide the tears which were 
 streaming down her cheeks. 
 
 Alice quietly took the child from her arms, as she 
 asked, " Have you no one to assist you in taking cart 
 of him?" 
 
 Mrs. Gates shook her head. 
 
 " Do you know of any one who would come if she 
 were well paid ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes! a woman who took care of me when I was 
 Rick." 
 
 " Where does she live ? "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 17J 
 
 ' Only a short distance in the next street. Lix/ie had 
 been to her house yesterday, when you met her." 
 
 " Well, if Lizzie will show me the way f will get her 
 if possible, to come here at once." 
 
 " I'm sure I can't see why you're so kind to me ; but 
 I'm very grateful, though it an't my way to say so much 
 about it as some do." 
 
 " No thanks, my good woman, are due to me ; I have 
 a kind friend who delights to be of service to the needy, 
 and it is by his wish that I attend to your wants. But 
 where is Lizzie ? " 
 
 Mrs. Gates went to the back door and led in the child, 
 who was playing in the yard. Having been, washed and 
 attired in a clean apron, the little girl walked by the side 
 of the horse, as the long dress of Alice unfitted her 
 for walking in the street. She found the nurse to be a 
 motherly appearing woman, rather more than fifty years 
 of age. She soon made known her errand, and was 
 pleased to find her willing to go without delay. Alice 
 then inquired whether they had a good physician, and 
 having ascertained that it was her old friend, Dr. Jenks, 
 she immediately determined to call upon him. She 
 therefore paid Mrs. Green a week's wages, together with 
 a sum of money for the immediate necessities of the 
 family, and leaving Lizzie to return home with ihe nui>e, 
 jumped into her saddle, and rode to the house of Dr 
 Jenks. She was fortunate in finding him, for he drove 
 up in his narrow buggy just as she approached. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Alice," said he, gayly, " is it 
 I, you want ? Any body sick at the Hall ? Easy enough 
 to see you're not to be rny patient to-day. Conue,jucnp
 
 172 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 off', and give me a kiss from those red lips. What, re- 
 fuse me ? Why, child, I was the first friend you evei 
 had." 
 
 In the meantime Alice dismounted, and followed the 
 kind-hearted man into the sitting-room. He was a 
 valued friend, as well as physician of Mr. Stanley's 
 family. Alice, he had always associated with his little 
 pet, Louis, and loved her for his sake as well as for her 
 own. After shaking hands with Mrs. Jenks, the young 
 girl at once made known her errand, and requested the 
 Doctor to continue his attendance upon Mr. Gates, 
 archly holding up her purse to intimate that she was the 
 one to whom he was to look for his pay. 
 
 " Well, that's cool, I must say, to offer me a bribe if 
 I'll give up my own patients. Where did you get so 
 much money, that you are throwing it away in that 
 style ? " 
 
 " It's Uncle Stephen's," replied Alice, laughing. 
 
 " Won't you tell Uncle Stephen to attend to his own 
 business, and I'll mind mine. Mr. Gates is my patient, 
 and I shan't give him up to please any person ; " and the 
 kind man had a merry twinkle in his eye that told every- 
 body that he had a large and warm heart beating under- 
 neath his elaborately frilled shirt. " Seriously, child," he 
 continued, " I can't afford to give up Justin Gates, and 
 such as he ; they are the most valuable part of my prac- 
 tice ; I couldn't, in conscience, ask God's blessing upon 
 me if I turned a deaf ear to the calls of the poor. ] 
 consider my practice among them my best invest- 
 ments. My Master will repay me a thousand-fold 
 when I get up there," he added, with a devotional glance
 
 IN DISGUISE. 173 
 
 toward heaven. " So you see, child, how the matte) 
 stands.'' 
 
 I'll do my best for the poor man, though I must con- 
 fess he is in some danger ; and as for anything else you 
 or Uncle Stephen can do for the comfort of the family, I 
 shall say amen to it." 
 
 " I have procured him a nurse," answered Alice, who 
 had been much affected by what he had said. " Mrs. 
 Green will remain there as long as she is needed." 
 
 " Ah ! that's right ; the best thing you could do. She's 
 a model of a nurse ; " and he rose to go. 
 
 Alice went across the room, put her arms around his 
 neck, and kissed his furrowed cheek. 
 
 Did you see that, mother?" he asked, turning to his 
 wife. " Fine times these," and he heartily returned her 
 embrace, saying to her, " I've rode you on my knee more 
 times than I can count, and told you over and over 
 again, ' This is the house that Jack built.' You 
 wouldn't give me a kiss for the asking ; but as soon as 
 I stopped, you must needs come and volunteer. Well, 
 that's just as mother used to do. It's natural to young 
 girls." 
 
 " I couldn't help it," replied Alice, looking much 
 amused. " I believe I gave it to you for your kindness 
 to Justin Gates ;" and bidding Mrs. Jenks a kind good 
 morning, she was soon on her way home. 
 
 Upon her arrival, she found the family in some excite- 
 ment on account of Edilh's refusal to accept the hand 
 of Mr. Huntington. Uncle Stephen had that morning 
 given a reluctant consent to his suit. Her father was 
 much pleased, hoping that his influence would do much 
 15'
 
 174 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 to soften the character of the haughty girl ; but to the 
 astonishment of all, when he made a formal offer of hia 
 hand, she had decidedly refused him, though she con- 
 fessed that she liked him better than any other person. 
 His profession was the insuperable objection in her mind, 
 as she had determined never to be a clergyman's wife. 
 
 This was a keen disappointment to the young candi- 
 date for holy orders, and for one moment the thought 
 was cherished, " it is not too late for me to change my 
 profession;" but he cast it aside as unworthy of him. 
 He had never made any secret of his pleasure in her 
 society, and as she had not discouraged his attentions, 
 he hoped his suit would terminate favorably. When 
 he returned to the family, pale and sad, to bid them 
 adieu, Mr. Stanley drew from him the fact that he had 
 been rejected. He \vas very much displeased with his 
 daughter, as he knew she had given the young man 
 reason to believe she loved him. But Mr. Hnntington 
 would allow no blame to rest upon her, and with a sad 
 weight at. his heart bade them adieu. 
 
 Uncle Stephen greatly approved the course Alice had 
 pursued with regard to the sick man ; and asked her if 
 she wanted more money to carry her plans into effect. 
 In answer to which question, she held up the purse which 
 was still well filled. 
 
 The next day, and for several days in succession, Alice 
 rode to the village to call upon her protegds. Mr. Gates 
 still continued very sick, and the kind-hearted physician 
 began to look very grave. Mrs. Gates seemed every day 
 more dejected. One week the nurse had remained wiih 
 ner patient, and Alice paid her another week's wages, and
 
 IN DISGriSK. 175 
 
 at the same time providing for the wants of the family 
 One morning, however, when on her way to the village, 
 she met Dr. Jenks. He stopped his horse. " Good news 
 for you x . I've just left the bedside of Justin Gates, and 
 he was conscious. I think the crisis has passed, and 
 that he is in a fair way to recover. It's hardly fair, 1 
 know, for me to tell the news, since Maria is watching 
 so earnestly for you, in order to tell it herself." 
 
 " I am indeed pleased to hear it," said Alice, and she 
 hastened on. 
 
 It was indeed so. A great change had taken place. 
 For the first time, Alice went into the small bedroom to 
 see the invalid. She stopped but a moment, for fear the 
 excitement of seeing a stranger would injure him, in his 
 weak state. When she left him, the grateful wife fol- 
 lowed her into the small sitting-room, and, having care- 
 fully closed the door, expressed her wish that Miss Carey 
 would remain for a few moments. 
 
 " I will do so with pleasure," replied the young lady, 
 though she \vondered a little at the serious tone in which 
 the request was uttered. She drew a chair near the one 
 where Mrs. Gates had seated herself, and said, kindly, 
 " You have much to be thankful for, my good woman 
 Dr. Jenks told me he thought your husband won I.; 
 recover." 
 
 " Oh, I have, I have! " she exclaimed, raising her tear- 
 fnl eyes to the face of her companion, " not only for that, 
 but for the blessings of a whole life. I have never real- 
 ized who it was provided for all my wants, and supplied 
 me with so many comforts. Now I seem to be just 
 awaking out of sleep. I remember all my sins. Oh
 
 176 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 how could 1 have been so forgetful of the instructions ol 
 r ny deceased mother ! " Her feelings entirely overcame 
 her, and she sobbed for some time without restraint. 
 
 Alice took her hand, and tried to soothe her. " Re- 
 member," she said, "that if you are truly penitent, God 
 is able and willing to forgive you all your sins." 
 
 " But you don't know, you can't imagine, how very 
 wicked I have been. Not that I have ever committed 
 any open crime, but I have violated the sabbath. I have 
 forgotten God. Weeks and months have passed without 
 my ever remembering there was One who kept me alive, 
 giving me food and raiment. I have not been inside of 
 a church for three years ; and now I can trace the com- 
 mencement of all my troubles to that very time. Justin 
 used always to be in his seat morning and afternoon ; 
 but I persuaded him to ride and walk with me, or make 
 a social visit, as we had to work so hard through the 
 week." Suppressing a sob, she continued : " Ever since 
 the first day you called, and asked me if I prayed, I have 
 had a dreadful weight upon rne. Even when he was 
 released, and your kind friend brought him home, though 
 I was rejoiced to see him, yet I could not throw off my 
 burden. And now this morning, when the doctor told 
 me he was better, I didn't feel as I once should. Night 
 after night, when the nurse was sleeping in her chair by 
 the side of my husband's bed, I have crept away from 
 my little ones, and come down here to read in the Bible 
 but every word I read only made me feel worse, and 
 many times I have thought 'twas no use to try to be 
 better ; but the next night I'd think I'd try once more. 
 Miss Carey," she resumed, after a momentary pause of
 
 IN DISGUISF,. 177 
 
 great emotion, lowering her voice, and speaking in a 
 hoarse whisper, while she gazed upon her companion as 
 if upon her answer hung the power of life and death, 
 " Miss Carey, I'm afraid God has given me np." Her 
 eyes were now tearless; but there was in them an ex- 
 pression of unuttered woe, such as Alice had never seen. 
 
 For one moment she paused to wish that Mrs. Stan- 
 ley or Clarence were there to speak words of comfort to 
 the anxious inquirer after truth, and then, with a silent 
 uplifting of her heart to God for wisdom to direct her 
 what to say, she commenced : " It is the adversary who 
 puts such thoughts into your mind, to keep you from 
 your Saviour, who has invited you to come to him that 
 you might have eternal life. If it were as you imagine, 
 that you have been left to yourself, you would not be 
 troubled with fears. The sins you have committed would 
 not stare you in the face. No : it is the Holy Spirit 
 striving with you, to bring you to repentance, to make 
 you mourn over the follies of your past life." 
 
 " I do indeed, I do repent of them with all rny heart; 
 but it makes me feel worse when I think that, in spite 
 of all I've done, He has been so good to me. Oh, J 
 haven't deserved such goodness! When Justin was 
 carried off, I had awful thoughts, and asked my.-rif, 
 ' What have I done that such a dreadful affliction should 
 be sent upon me?' When I remember God knew my 
 wicked thoughts, I am humbled to the dust." 
 
 " It was for just such sinners as you are that Christ 
 died. If you had never sinned, you would not need a 
 Saviour. Your husband did not need or wish for 9 
 physician as long as he was well ; but you feel thar. you
 
 178 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 have offended God, violated his holy law*, and that you 
 must be lost unless you are pardoned. Jesus has offered 
 to be your ransom, and, if you put your trust in him, he 
 will save you." 
 
 With a quick start, Mrs. Gates heaved a deep sigh, a* 
 if she could hardly realize so wonderful a plan of salva- 
 tion. With a countenance in which hope and fear were 
 striving for ascendency, she gazed at her companion, 
 then closed her eyes, and said, solemnly, " Oh God, for 
 Christ's sake, save my guilty soul ! " 
 
 Never has that plea been urged in vain. Never has a 
 repentant sinner humbly called upon God, plead the 
 merits and sacrifice of his Son, and failed to receive an 
 answer of peace. 
 
 For a short time Alice paused. She did not wish to 
 interrupt the work the Holy Spirit was carrying on in 
 the soul of the penitent woman before her. Then she 
 silently lifted up her heart to ask God to sanctify the 
 trials and afflictions of the present hour to her salvation. 
 Mrs. Gates instantly imitated her example, and the 
 young girl poured out her full heart in prayer to her 
 heavenly Father. Before she left, Alice indulged a strong 
 hope that the interview had not been in vain. Instead of 
 despairing sorrow stamped upon every feature, there \vai> 
 now upon the countenance of the good woman an 
 expression of earnest and holy trust. She exhibited 
 marks of strong feeling as Alice took her leave, and said, 
 with deep emotion, " Oh, Miss Carry! don't forget to 
 pray for my poor Justin, that God would bring him to 
 repentance."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Oh, there is need that on men's hearts should fall 
 A spirit that can sympathize with all." Carey. 
 
 WHEN Alice returned home, instead of joining the 
 family in the parlor, she retired to her own room, and 
 passed the remainder of the forenoon in giving thanks 
 to God for making her the feeble instrument of good to 
 one soul. During these hours of meditation, she saw a 
 great field of usefulness opening before her. She need 
 not. go to a distance to be useful to her fellow-creatures. 
 She determined to seek one among the inhabitants of 
 her native village. Where she found temporal distress, 
 she knew that the hand of her kind benefactor was ever 
 open to supply her with the means to relieve it. She 
 was so much engrossed with this subject that she had 
 no time to think of herself; and, when she went below 
 to join the family at dinner, peace and hope irradiated 
 every feature. But here she was destined to new trials. 
 Gertrude, who was every day more convinced that Clar- 
 ence had become wholly indifferent to her, unworthily 
 ascribed the change to the arts of Alice to win his favor. 
 The demon of jealousy had taken possession of her soul, 
 and at times almost maddened her. In Edith she found 
 a willing listener to all the abuse she wished to heap 
 upon the innocent object of her displeasure. When she 
 heard of Alice's proposition to leave Lindemvood, and 
 
 179
 
 180 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 become a teacher, her heart bounded with joy ; but, when 
 made aware that her father and mother firmly opposed 
 the plan, and insisted that she should remain with them, 
 she hated them for not falling in with her views, or fail- 
 ing to see that they were thwarting her interests. She 
 thought she loved Clarence ; but now. as she confessed 
 to Edith, she could almost wish him dead rather than to 
 see him become the husband of Alice, who, by the kind- 
 ness of her father, had been raised from abject poverty 
 She watched the poor girl with Argus eyes, and was 
 ready to ascribe the worst motive to every action. It 
 was fortunate for the young girl that she did not suspect 
 half the unkindness that was cherished toward her. For 
 years Emma had been a loving, confiding friend, one 
 who sympathized in all her trials, and was ready to ward 
 off, as much as in her power, the poisoned shafts aimed 
 at her heart. When Alice appeared at dinner, Gertrude, 
 who could neither appreciate nor understand the source 
 of her calm happiness, ascribed her cheerfulness to othef 
 causes, and even suspected Clarence had confessed hia 
 affection. This suspicion was confirmed by a remark 
 the young girl made in answer to Mrs. Stanley, who 
 frankly said, " I think, my love, from your countenance, 
 you must have found your patient convalescent ; you 
 appear very happy." 
 
 " Yes, mamma," replied Alice, in a low voice, intended 
 only for the ear of her mother, as she sat by her side, 
 " and my heart is at rest." 
 
 It was plain also that Mrs. Stanley attached a different 
 meaning to her words from the one she intended to 
 convey, for she gazed earnestly at her for a moment,
 
 IN DISGCISK. 182 
 
 and then fell into a reverie so profound as to be making 
 continual blunders during the remainder of the repast. 
 
 When her father left the room after dinner, Gertrude 
 could no longer restrain her ill humor, and said, aloud, 
 " I wonder, mother, that you allow Alice to be riding !o 
 the village every day. If she has not delicacy enough 
 to perceive the impropriety, I should think you would 
 use your influence or authority to restrain her." 
 
 Uncle Stephen grew very red, a sure sign he was wax- 
 ing wrathy, but for once he kept silent. 
 
 " I cannot understand," replied the lady, " how she 
 violates any rule of propriety, or of delicacy, by riding 
 to the village to visit a sick person." 
 
 " Not when every one knows she goes there for the 
 sake of seeing Clarence!-" was the angry retort. " Re- 
 marks are already- made upon it." 
 
 Alice started to her feet with indignation stamped 
 upon every feature, and was about to deny any such 
 motive, but, at a glance from her mother, again seated 
 herself, though her heart palpitated so as to shake her 
 whole frame. 
 
 " Gertrude," said Mrs. Stanley, with emotion, " such 
 remarks do far more injury to you than to her. You, as 
 well as each of us, know that Alice is the last one who 
 would be guilty of an attempt to draw undue attention 
 to herself. I could wish that all my daughters might 
 imitate her example in that respect, I will not allow 
 her to degrade herself so far as to deny the charge." So 
 saying, she turned to leave the room, desiring Alice to 
 follow her. 
 
 For a long time after they were alone, the poor child 
 16
 
 182 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL, 
 
 could only hide her blushing face in her mother's lap, aa 
 she occupied a stool at her feet. At length she sobbed 
 out, " It is cruel, cruel, in her to make such a charge. 
 Indeed, I have never seen him, except on the morning 
 when I rode with Uncle Stephen, and then only for a 
 moment, and that, too, in the street." 
 
 " I knew it, my love," replied Mrs Stanley, soothingly 
 " It is foolish to weep, and yet I know such insinuations 
 are hard to bear. But which, Alice, would you choose 
 to be in your situation, and endure such a trial as she 
 has inflicted upon your sensitive heart, or be in hers, and 
 inflict it ? " 
 
 " Oh, mamma, I never could say such unkind things 
 to her. I had tenfold rather be the one to endure." 
 
 "Yes, dear, she is to be pitied; but she has this excuse. 
 She has been disappointed in her dearest wishes and 
 hopes, and she feels it keenly." 
 
 " In what has she been disappointed ? " 
 
 " In the affection she hoped to gain from Clarence. It 
 cannot be new to you." 
 
 " But she said," eagerly replied Alice, " that he had 
 told her he loved her, but that Uncle Stephen was not 
 to know it for the present." 
 
 Poor Alice became painfully confused, and covered 
 her face with her hands. "I have done very, very wrong 
 to tell you this, for I overheard it," she added, as a shade 
 of keen disappointment passed over her mother's face, 
 and the thought of what she had heard in the same 
 connection caused her cheeks to burn like fire. A dread 
 tul struggle took place in her breast a desire to unbur- 
 den her heart, even by confessing her folly in giving her
 
 IX DISGUISE 183 
 
 affections unsought ; and opposed to this, the bitter mor- 
 tification it would cause her to do so. Shame at length 
 prevailed, and she said to herself, " I shall conquer, I ivill 
 conquer, myself! " 
 
 At length Mrs. Stanley asked, quietly, " Can you not 
 tell me why you were so happy at dinner ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," she answered, her countenance brightening, 
 " I intended to tell you. But first will you tell me if 
 you ever thought me guilty of of what Gertrude 
 said ? " 
 
 " Guilty ? No, my child ! not in the slightest degree. 
 I never shall see you doing wrong, without telling you 
 of it." 
 
 Alice then related to her mother the events of the 
 morning. Mrs. Stanley's sympathizing countenance bore 
 ample testimony to her interest for the penitent woman. 
 
 In the meantime Gertrude sat at her sewing in the 
 vain endeavor to appear indifferent to what had occurred. 
 She was vexed that her charges had not at least satisfied 
 her curiosity, whether Alice did meet Clarence in the vil- 
 lage. She was mortified that she had been led by her 
 jea.ousy to make the insinuation in so public a manner, 
 and she was puzzled beyond measure by the appearance 
 of Uncle Stephen, who sat chuckling to himself as if he- 
 had very merry thoughts, while, for a queer, quizzical ex- 
 pression upon his countenance she in vain endeavored to 
 account, except upon the supposition that he knew, and 
 was satisfied with the state of his ward's affections. He 
 said not a word by which she could gain a clew to his 
 thoughts ; but sat twirling his heavy watch chain, as was 
 his habit when in good humor.
 
 184 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 When Mrs. Stanley and Alice were .summoned io tea, 
 not a trace of unkindness appeared upon the counte- 
 nance of the latter. In her small closet, where she had 
 so often sought and obtained strength to overcome hei 
 inward adversaries, she had gained a victory over ever) 
 unkind feeling. She had even earnestly besought a bless- 
 ing upon the one who had endeavored to injure her. The 
 answer had come in peace to her own soul. 
 
 After tea, Uncle Stephen called her to his side, and 
 engaged her in conversation ; and when, at a distance 
 from the family group who gathered about the centre- 
 table, she gave him a brief account of her morning visit 
 to the poor family, and in her interest for them forgot all 
 which had annoyed her. 
 
 The next day was the Sabbath, and though Alice was 
 very anxious to hear from "her prote'ge's, she concluded 
 not to visit them. After service in the afternoon, as she 
 and Emma were walking from church, they met Dr. 
 Jenks. He stopped his horse, and told her Mr. Gates 
 continued to improve, and he added, " His wife is so 
 happy that she must needs tell everybody about it." The 
 eyes of the good man were moistened as he said this, 
 and not liking to have his emotion observed, he snd'lenly 
 nodded his adieu, and drove on. 
 
 At an early hour on the following day, Alice walked 
 to the village, taking with her one or two devotional 
 books, and also a small basket of delicacies, from Mrs. 
 Stanley, to the invalid. 
 
 " I almost envy you," said Emma, as she gayly bid her 
 good morning. 
 
 " Then why not accompany me ? "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 185 
 
 " Not this morning," replied Emma. 
 
 Alice found Nurse Green in the small entry of Mrs. 
 Gates's house, in earnest discussion with a poorly-dressed 
 woman, who was weeping bitterly. The sight of grief 
 always affected the heart of Alice, and she stopped to 
 inquire the cause of this sorrow. 
 
 " Her sister," replied the nurse, " is the wife of one of 
 the men who were sentenced to prison a few weeks since. 
 She carne to see if I would go there for a few days when 
 I'm through here. The poor creature has almost cried 
 herself to death, though everybody thinks she is well rid 
 of him. He used to beat and abuse her shamefully, be- 
 cause she wouldn't uphold him in his wicked conduct." 
 
 " Where does she live ? " inquired Alice. 
 
 " A few doors beyond me, on the opposite side of the 
 street, in a small, brown house." 
 
 " Do you live with her ? " inquired the young lady, 
 addressing the woman. 
 
 " No, ma'am, I have a family of my own ; but I feel 
 so much for my poor sister that I am willing to pay 
 Nurse Green if she will go there. I've been back and 
 forth to take care of her for nearly a fortnight ; but I 
 have a baby, and I'd rather pay her than go as I have 
 done." 
 
 " I will cull and see her, before I go home. Perhaps 
 we can make some arrangement with Mrs. Green." 
 
 After the woman had gone, Alice made more particu- 
 lar inquiries about her circumstances, and found her case 
 really more necessitous than the one in which she was 
 BO much interested. 
 
 y T was just wishing." said the good nurse, " that the 
 Hi'
 
 186 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Lord would direct some kind friend to her door, as he did 
 you to this. Maria Gates speaks of it every day." 
 
 " I suppose you are aware," responded Alice, " that I 
 only distribute the bounty of a rich friend, who does not 
 let his right hand know what his left hand does." 
 
 " La ! " said Mrs. Green, smoothing down her apron, 
 " I guess 'tisn't much of a secret who it comes from. 
 I've known of his charities these four years, though he 
 does take mighty queer ways to bestow them. The pres- 
 ent way is the best, I'm thinking ; but I'll speak to 
 Maria." 
 
 When she opened the door into the bed-room, Alice 
 saw the invalid bolstered up in bed, while his wife sat by 
 his side, reading to him from an old, leather-covered 
 Bible. The babe lay asleep at the foot of the bed. She 
 came forward joyfully to meet the young lady, and 
 grasped her warmly by the hand. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Carey ! " she exclaimed, " my burden is 
 gone. All is peace here," putting her hand to her heart. 
 " I have longed for you to come, that you might talk 
 with Justin." 
 
 Alice made a sign for her to be silent, as the sick man 
 could hear every word, fearing lest in her zeal she should 
 defeat her own object. They immediately passed to the 
 bedside of Mr. Gates, who at first appeared very much 
 embarrassed ; but, as Alice sat down by him, and at- 
 tempted to turn his mind from himself to other topics, 
 he became at length more free, and expressed his grati- 
 tude for her attention to his family. " Maria would have 
 had a tough time of it," he added, " if it hadn't been for 
 the help you've been to her."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 187 
 
 " Do you enjoy reading ? " she asked ; " I noticed your 
 wife was reading to you when I came in." 
 
 " Middling," he answered, frankly. " To tell the truth 
 I a'n't much of a reader, myself; but I like to hear her, 
 she enters into it so. It seems to come right home." 
 
 " I have brought a little book which perhaps may 
 please you. It is one which has greatly interested me." 
 
 "If it wouldn't bother you too much I should like to 
 hear it. I find it's dull music to lie in bed, and it's what 
 I rflivn't been used to. I never was hauled up in my life 
 before." 
 
 " You have, indeed, much to be grateful for. Have you 
 ever thought to whom you was indebted for health ? " 
 
 " Why, no ; can't say I ever thought much about it. 
 Suppose it's owing to my having such a firm constitu- 
 tion." 
 
 " But who gave you such a firm constitution ? " 
 
 " Well, 1 can't say. I allus supposed 'twas born with 
 me." 
 
 Alice was sorely puzzled. She did not feel at all sure 
 whether this ignorance were real, or only feigned in order 
 to get rid of religious conversation. She had never seen 
 much of the world, nor of the different phases of human 
 character, and was at a loss to judge how it we uld be 
 best to proceed with him, for her heart was fully set on 
 his conversion. She determined, however, not to press 
 the subject upon him at present, but to gain his confi- 
 dence, that she might converse with him in future with 
 more hope of doing him good. Therefore, saying to Mrs. 
 Gates that she would watch by the babe if she wished 
 to be engaged with her family, she opened her book and
 
 188 THE HOUSEHOLD AN'GEL 
 
 commenced reading. Mrs. Gates soon resumed her seat, 
 after seeing that Lizzie was safe in the little yard, and 
 with her sewing in her hand, was prepared to listen to 
 her young friend. 
 
 The book was a short and simple narrative of a father 
 converted by the death of his child. As she read on 
 through some of the more touching scenes, she could see 
 that her hearers were much affected. Mr. Gates was 
 obliged repeatedly to wipe his eyes with his shirt sleeve, 
 and when she stopped, fearing he might be wearied,he 
 eagerly asked her to go on. But when she had finished, 
 and his wife asked him if he "had not enjoyed it, he re- 
 plied, " If it had been livelier 'twould have suited me bet- 
 ter." 
 
 Yet his benefactress determined not to yield to dis- 
 couragement. She felt sure this indifference was partly 
 assumed, to conceal his real feelings ; and she trusted in 
 the Spirit of God for the result. With her own hands 
 she took the jellies and other articles from the basket, 
 retaining only a couple of oranges for her next call, and 
 then putting a small book of prayers into the hands of 
 Mrs. Gates, she bade them good morning ; but had pro- 
 ceeded no farther than the entry, when to her great con- 
 fusion she found Clarence standing there. He had 
 knocked repeatedly at the outer door, and, failing of be- 
 ing heard, had advanced to the inner. The. conversation 
 of the preceding day darted through the mind of the poor 
 girl, causing her the most painful embarrassment ; but, 
 with an effort to speak calmly, she told him she would 
 speak to Mrs. Gates, and was hastening to do so, when 
 he said, gravely, " Alice, have I offended you by coming 
 here ? ''
 
 IN DISGUISE. 189 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " she replied, eagerly, " only " she hes- 
 itated and then stopped. It was impossible to explain. 
 
 He seemed grieved that she did not reply more frankly, 
 and the consciousness of this, and of not- being able to 
 do so, greatly increased her confusion. Oh, how earnestly 
 she wished that Emma had accompanied her, or that she 
 had gone one moment sooner! 
 
 At length, after an awkward silence, she turned to go 
 into the room, and he made no farther objection to her 
 doing so. Mrs. Gates recognized him at once, so that 
 Alice waited only a moment, and, with a slight bow, 
 left the room. Now that it was too late, she keenly re- 
 gretted her haste, since her evident avoidance of him had 
 given him pain, especially as he would be at a loss to 
 understand her reason for doing so. But her thoughts 
 were soon directed into another channel as she ap- 
 proached the low-roofed cottage, to which she had been 
 directed.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " It is not well, 
 
 Here in this land of Christian liberty, 
 That honest worth or hopeless want should dwell 
 Unaided by our care and sympathy." Carey. 
 
 AFTER knocking repeatedly at the outer door, she 
 gently pushed it open and proceeded to the inner, where 
 her application for admittance was immediately an- 
 swered by a faint voice bidding her enter. Upon a low 
 bed in the corner of the room lay a woman apparently 
 about thirty years of age, whose pale, emaciated coun- 
 tenance called forth her warmest sympathies. A young 
 child lay nestled close to its mother, in the sweet sleep 
 of childhood, while everything in and about the room, 
 though denoting great poverty, yet betokened the strict- 
 est regard for neatness. 
 
 " This," thought Alice, " is the work of her kind 
 sister." But she was mistaken. 
 
 At a lo\v call from his mother, a noble-looking boy 
 made his appearance from a room in the rear. He camt 
 forward when he saw the visitor, and passed her a chair 
 with a freedom from restraint and awkwardness very 
 unusual for a boy of his age. 
 
 " My mother is very sick this morning," he said, ad- 
 dressing Alice, " and has not been able to rise ; but she 
 will be glad to see you." He then advanced to the bed 
 
 190
 
 IN DISGUISE. 191 
 
 and gently relieving her from the child, he raised the pil- 
 lows, and tenderly assisted her to turn to the side where 
 Alice was sitting. 
 
 , " You are very kind to call," said the poor woman, 
 making an effort to keep back her tears ; "my sister U>ld 
 me you would do so." 
 
 " I am sorry to find you so ill, replied Alice, " and 
 regret that I did not sooner hear of your sickness." 
 
 The woman, whose name was Hay den, suddenly drevv 
 up the bed-clothes to cover her face, and there was a 
 sound of violent sobbing. 
 
 " My mother has not been able to talk much," said the 
 boy, apologetically, while he gazed with the utmost 
 tenderness at the bed, where the motion of the clothes 
 plainly showed the difficulty she found in suppressing 
 her feelings. 
 
 " And who takes care of her ? " 
 
 " I do," said the boy, drawing himself up " My aunl 
 has been here often, and watched with mother at night 
 until she herself was taken sick. She has a large family 
 of her own, and the additional care was too much for her." 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " Dexter, ma'am, Dexter Hayden." 
 
 " Well, Dexter, you and I must do the business then. 
 Has your mother had any breakfast ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am, I baked some potatoes for Minnie 
 and myself; and aunt Lucy brought mother a nice bowl 
 of gruel. If she would only be willing for me to stay 
 at home from school, I could do all that she requires ; 
 but it frets her to have me absent from my class for a 
 single recitation."
 
 192 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Alice gazed at the boy with astonishment, as he stood 
 oefore her, answering her questions with modesty, but 
 perfect self-possession. But eleven summers had passed 
 over his head, and yet there was a maturity and manli- 
 ness about him which she had never witnessed in one so 
 young. Thick clustering locks curled up from his high 
 brow. His clear, gray eyes, his mouth of mingled sweet- 
 ness and firmness, together with his strong self-reliance, 
 convinced her he had already made resolves to free his 
 beloved mother from poverty and disgrace. " That boy 
 will distinguish himself," was her instinctive feeling as 
 she listened to him. She would have had more reason 
 to think so, could she have known of his standing in his 
 class, and that the teacher of the Academy, prompted 
 not only by motives of charity, but by a desire to retain 
 a scholar who was a model of propriety as an example to 
 the school, had cheerfully given him his tuition ; that his 
 good conduct, and willingness to oblige his companions, 
 had caused him to be so much beloved and respected by 
 them that never, in his presence, had the most distant 
 allusion been made to the disgrace of his father. 
 
 But this had been a dreadful blow to the poor boy. 
 For the sake of his mother, whom it had crushed to the 
 earth, he had striven to be cheerful. Yet there were 
 times when a sense of shame and disgrace overpowered 
 him ; and he was obliged to hide himself, in the low 
 attic, over his mother's room, until he could obtain a 
 victory over himself, and again be in a condition to 
 appear cheerful before her. 
 
 Alice knew nothing of all this until a much later 
 period ; the longer she saw and conversed with him, the
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 more she became interested in him ; and she determined 
 to recommend him to Uncle Stephen as a noble bene- 
 ficiary. She had ascertained before she left Mrs. Gates, 
 that they could dispense with the services of Nurse 
 Green in a very few days, if Justin gained in strength 
 as fast as he had done. Mrs. Gates, indeed, offered to 
 release her at once, but she had not thought it best to 
 run the risk of a relapse for want of proper care. She 
 therefore asked Dexter if he knew of any one he could 
 obtain for a short period. But he did not, and there was 
 no way but for him to go on as well as he could until 
 Mrs. Green was able to come. Alice secretly resolved to 
 provide the necessary food, and to be there herself much 
 of the time. 
 
 Little Minnie now awoke, and pulling the bed-clothes 
 from her mother's face, began to kiss away her tears, 
 lisping : " Mamma not cry, Minnie will be dood." 
 
 Her caresses did more than anything else toward 
 restoring the afflicted mother to composure ; and Alice 
 was much affected to see her press the child convulsively 
 to her heart. It was indeed a beautiful face, peeping so 
 brightly from under her long flaxen curls, while she raised 
 her tiny fingers to brush away the tears that lay upon 
 her mother's cheek. 
 
 Dexter was evidently very proud of his sister, and 
 anxious to exhibit her to their visitor. He went tc the 
 side of the bed. and holding out his arms, said : " Come, 
 Minnie, and speak to the lady." 
 
 The child sprang t< ward him, and hid her laughing 
 face in his neck. 
 
 Alice took an orange from the basket, and held it up 
 17
 
 194 
 
 TIIK HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 as an inducement to Minnie to come to her. ttut for a 
 ,ong time the little Miss was very shy. She reached out 
 to take the proffered fruit, and then clung tightly to her 
 brother's neck if Alice offered to take her from him. 
 The young lady was pleased to see that Mrs. Hay den's 
 eyes rested upon the scene before her with an appearan< 
 of interest, forgetting for the moment her own. hrarl- 
 sorrow ; and she trusted that time would moderate her 
 grief, and restore her at least to partial cheerfulness. As 
 it was near noon, she put a sum of money into the 
 hand of Dexter, and requested him to buy some bread, 
 a lump of butter, a pound of tea, and seven pounds of 
 sugar. 
 
 The boy proudly put back the money, as if he could 
 not accept charity ; but after a single glance at his 
 mother, with a heightened color, he took it, as Alice 
 said with a smile, " I have been walking since breakfast, 
 and begin to feel very hungry ; if you will allow me I 
 will dine with you to-day." 
 
 With a bright smile of gratitude, the boy took down 
 his cap from a hook and darted away. 
 
 He was gone but a few moments before he returned 
 with the parcels. When Alice, who, some time before 
 this had laid aside her bonnet and shawl, arose, and 
 putting Minnie in a chair by the bedside, accompanied 
 Dexter into a small, back room, or shed, where a cooking 
 stove had been set. Here, as in the front apartment, 
 everything was scrupulously neat and clean. A small 
 pile of brush lay in the box by the stove, the preparation 
 of which had occupied Dexter on her entrance. He told 
 her he would soon have a fire under the tea-kettle; and
 
 IN DISGUISE. 193 
 
 the young girl, whose object in following him, had been 
 to ascertain their most pressing wants, returned to the 
 room she had left. Minnie had crept upon the bed by 
 her mother, but soon left her place at the invitation of 
 Alice to come and help her get dinner. A leaf of the 
 large table was turned up, and the child tried to pull 
 open the drawer, to show that the cloth and knives were 
 in there. Then she drew her new friend to the cupboard, 
 saying " Minnie's cup there, Minnie wants to drink with 
 new cup." 
 
 " If mamma pleases," replied Alice ; and the child ran 
 to the bed to gain permission. Then the cups, plates 
 and spoons were taken down, and laid in order upon the 
 table. Minnie was almost wild with delight, at being 
 allowed to assist in carrying them across the room. When 
 the bread had been neatly cut in slices, and the butter laid 
 upon a plate, the child could not contain her joy. She 
 pulled the dress of Alice to have her stoop down, put her 
 small, plump arms around her neck, lisping out, " Min- 
 nie loves you, Minnie do." Until then, Alice had never 
 known that she was especially fond of children ; but the 
 frank avowal of the sweet little girl touched a chord in 
 her heart which never after ceased to vibrate. She 
 warmly returned the embrace, as .she said, " I love Minnie 
 very dearly." 
 
 Dexter soon came in with the tea, but said, hesi- 
 tatingly, " there is no milk." 
 
 " Ah, I quite forgot the milk," replied the young 
 housekeeper, and she laughed merrily as she requested 
 him to buy a quart as soon as possible, as she intended
 
 196 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 to make his mother a slice of toast, and Minnie was 
 looking forward to a treat from her new cup. 
 
 Mrs. Hayden, from the bed, uttered a low remon- 
 strance about the toast, but Alice cheerfully assured her 
 that she should take great pleasure in making it for her. 
 After a short time the dinner was announced. Mrs. Hay- 
 den was raised to an upright position, all the pillows 
 in the house being brought into requisition ; a towel was 
 laid before her in place of a napkin, and her toast and 
 tea relished so well that she acknowledged, in a far more 
 cheerful voice than she had' yet spoken, that she was 
 almost strong enough to sit up. 
 
 When they arose from the table, the little girl clapped 
 her hands, exclaiming, " Minnie had dood dinner, Minnie 
 want you to come next time." 
 
 After assisting Dexter to carry the dishes to a table in 
 the back room, where he preferred to wash them by him- 
 self, Alice reluctantly prepared to take leave. It \yas 
 very easy for her to see that her visit had done the in- 
 valid much good, and she feared when she left, the af- 
 flicted woman would relapse into her former despondence. 
 
 Her presence had, indeed, operated like a charm. Her 
 bright eyes, smiling face, and cheerful voice had inspired 
 the heart-broken mother with a new feeling of courage 
 to look into the future. She saw, too, that her young 
 friend was interested in her little Minnie, and appreciated 
 the excellences of her noble boy ; and the mother's heart 
 swelled with emotions of pride as she gazed upon them. 
 
 After putting into Minnie's hand a piece of silver to 
 buy some milk for her supper, Alice left, promising to 
 return on the morrow. During her solitary walk home,
 
 IN DISGUISE. 197 
 
 her thoughts took a very unusual turn. " Oh," she said 
 almost audibly, ' : I wish I were rich ! How much happi- 
 ness there is in doing good! I never passed a more 
 pleasant morning." 
 
 There was an air about the family which assured her 
 that they had seen better days. The manner and lan- 
 guage of Dexter proved that he had not always been 
 oppressed with poverty. But the father had proved him- 
 self a villain. How could he so forget his tender wife 
 and beautiful children? What a trial his neglect and abuse 
 must have been to her gentle heart ! Had she religion ? 
 One only thing had occurred which led her to think so. 
 When they sat down to dinner, Minnie reverently folded 
 her hands, and closed her eyes, thus evincing a habit of 
 acknowledging God. Dexter colored slightly, and glanced 
 at Alice, who immediately repeated a form of prayer for 
 a blessing on the food. The children had evidently been 
 rightly instructed. 
 
 Occupied with her meditations, she soon found herself 
 at home, and ran to seek Uncle Stephen to give him an 
 act onnt of her expenditures, and to consult him with 
 reference to her new proteges. In the hall she met Mrs. 
 Stanley, who pleasantly chid her for her long absence, 
 saying, " We had difficulty in restraining Uncle Stephen 
 from starting in search of you. He really was alarmed 
 that you did not return to dinner, and said he wouldn't 
 consent again to your going among thieves and robbers; 
 there was no knowing what harm would come to you." 
 
 Alice laughed gayly, and invited her mother to accom- 
 pany her to her benefactors room, and hear an account 
 of her morning adventures. " I saw Clarence," she 
 
 17'
 
 198 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 whimpered, as they went up the stairs. " and after what 
 passed yesterday, I was so much embarrassed I fear I 
 did not treat him very politely." 
 
 " I am sorry," replied her mother, " for he knew nothing 
 of the conversation, and the remarks were really not 
 worth noticing." 
 
 The old gentleman was so much interested in her ac- 
 count of Dexter and Minnie, that he replenished her 
 purse, and told her if, on inquiry, the boy proved to be 
 what she supposed, he would be responsible for the 
 means to educate him. 
 
 Alice was so delighted that, in her joy, she clapped 
 her arms about his neck, and gave him a hearty kiss, just 
 as she used to do when a little girl. 
 
 " There, child," he said, archly, " don't waste your 
 kisses on an old man like me. There are younger ones, 
 who would be glad enough of them." 
 
 " I shall give my kisses to whom I choose," answered 
 Alice, with a pretty pout on her lip ; and " I choose to 
 give them to you, and Dr. Jenks. I like old men the 
 best." But her strict regard for truth compelled her, 
 though reluctantly, to qualify her assertion, and she 
 added, " that is of course " when a merry peal of 
 laughter from Uncle Stephen and her mother entirely 
 disconcerted her. 
 
 " Why, child, it's no disgrace to tell the truth. Don't 
 look so very rosy." 
 
 " Where do you buy your wood, Mr. Stanley ? " 
 asked Alice, an hour or two later, when they were alone 
 in the parlor. 
 
 " That is rather a strange question from you, he an-
 
 IN DISGUISE. 199 
 
 evvered, pleasantly ; " but I will tell you, on condition 
 that you confess what you intend to do with it." 
 
 " Uncle Stephen has become interested in a poor 
 family ; that is, / have, and told him about them. He 
 wishes me to provide everything for their comfort. I 
 saw this morning they had only a small quantity of 
 brush for fuel, and I don't know where to go to buy 
 any." 
 
 " I procure mine in the village. At this season, if you 
 go early enough, you will almost always find men in the 
 square with wood, both oak and pine." 
 
 " I suppose oak is better." 
 
 " Not exclusively ; I should advise you to get dry 
 pine, for a part, to kindle with. Clarence will select it 
 for you, and direct the man where to carry it." 
 
 " Will you please ask him to do so ? It is to be carried 
 into Cedar street, to the house of Mrs. Hayden, wife of 
 the man who was put in prison lately. I will write the 
 name on a slip of paper." 
 
 u Are you sure they are deserving ? I fear you will be 
 liable to be imposed upon." 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ! " exclaimed Alice, warmiy ; " I know 
 these are deserving people." 
 
 Mr. Stanley smiled as he glanced at the enthusiastic 
 creature before him, and said, " I have no reason to 
 doubt it ; but you had better ask Clarence to go in and 
 see them himself, and inquire about them." 
 
 " I should like to have him inquire, but I hardly think 
 it would do to have him call at present. The woman is 
 con lined to the bed, and beside her, there are only two 
 children in the family." As she went on describing them,
 
 200 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 and grew warm with the subject, the gentleman started 
 as he gazed, there was something in her whole ap- 
 pearance that reminded him so strongly of his deceased 
 wife. 
 
 " Well," he said, turning away with a sigh, as he 
 thought of the wide difference between her and Edith, 
 u I will attend to it ; " and Alice felt that she was re- 
 lieved from her greatest care. She could go to the store, 
 and order flour and other articles ; but she had been 
 puzzled how to obtain the wood. 
 
 In the course of the evening, while the family were 
 sitting around the table, Mr. Stanley came in from his 
 study and said to Clarence : " Lest I should forget it in 
 the morning, here is a small item of business for you. 
 Though it is rather out of your line, I advised Alice to 
 put it into your hands.'' He read from the memoran- 
 lum he had made : " Purchase load of wood, half oak 
 r maple, and half pine, and send it according to the 
 direction," passing him the paper on which she had 
 written the name. 
 
 Clarence took it, gravely, without even glancing at her, 
 and said, " I will send it in the morning." He put the 
 direction in his pocket-book, and resumed his reading. 
 
 His manner, so different from his usual cordiality, ar- 
 rested even the notice of Mr. Stanley ; but supposing 
 him to be engrossed with his book, he merely added, " I 
 feared it might be forgotten in the morning, and the pro- 
 te'ge's of Alice be in distress for the want of it." 
 
 Clarence merely bowed. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was much distressed, and feared that 
 Alice, in her desire to avoid Clarence, had seriously
 
 201 
 
 offended him, while Uncle Stephen removed the glasses 
 which had taken the place formerly monopolized by the 
 goggles, wiped and replaced them to see more clearly 
 what had come over his ward. But the object of his 
 solicitude seemed wholly intent upon the page before 
 him, until Edith, who sat next him, laughingly asked, 
 " How long, Clarence, are you going to read upon (hat 
 one page ? You have not turned over a leaf for the last 
 ten minutes ; the author must be very profound." 
 
 Not even this sally brought a smile to the face of the 
 young man. He appeared somewhat annoyed, but did 
 not attempt a reply. In a few moments he closed the 
 book, and asked Emma to give him some music. 
 
 She complied at once ; played and sung several pieces 
 as he called for them. At length he named one requiring 
 another voice, and she requested him to take it ; but he 
 bent down and said, in a low voice, " Call Alice." Em- 
 ma turned upon the music stool to do so, but Alice had 
 left the room. In answer to her inquiry where the young 
 girl had disappeared, her mother answered, " She left the 
 room soon after you went to the piano." 
 
 " I will run and ask her," said Emma, " to sing this 
 tune with me." 
 
 " I think she has retired," responded her mother; "You 
 had better ask Gertrude." 
 
 But Gertrude haughtily refused, and the music was dis- 
 pensed with ; and soon Clarence, and his guardian, left 
 the room. 
 
 " My daughter, why did'n't you oblige your sister?" 
 asked Mrs. Stanley, kindly. 
 
 " If I were in her place, 1 wouldn't play second fiddle
 
 202 THE HOUSEHOLD 
 
 to a dependant like Alice," interrupted Edith, before 
 Gertrude had time to reply. 
 
 " How many times must I remind you that she is not 
 a dependant. Have not your father and I adopted her 
 for our own ? As our child, she has as much claim 
 upon courtesy and kindness as yourself. Uncle Stephen 
 would gladly adopt her, but your father would not con- 
 sent ; not only from a regard to a promise he made your 
 mother, but also from the esteem he has of her lovely 
 character. 
 
 " It don't require glasses to see what she is after," ex- 
 claimed Edith, passionately, " fawning around Uncle 
 Stephen, in the style she does. She expects he will 
 make her his heir." 
 
 " I should not be at all surprised if he were to do so," 
 responded Mrs. Stanley, with much dignity. He has a 
 right to do as he pleases with his money, and there is no 
 one he loves as he does Alice. But you know, Edith, 
 that she has never thought of his doing so." 
 
 " Sister Edith," exclaimed Emma, with feeling, " I 
 don't see how you and Gertrude can treat Alice so un- 
 kindly. I'm sure I wish every day 1 were only half as 
 good as she is." 
 
 " Gertrude and I have never aspired to be models," 
 responded Edith, with warmth ; and here the conversa- 
 tion dropped.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Half of the ills we hoard within our hearts, 
 Are ills because we hoard them." Proctor. 
 
 WE must pass over a period of several weeks, during 
 which Alice divided her attention between the families 
 of Mr. Gates and Mrs. Hayden. She usually went first 
 to read for an hour to the former, who had become so 
 much interested that he manifested great impatience if 
 she were a few minutes behind her usual time. But she 
 could not be satisfied that any permanent result followed 
 from her reading. If she attempted to converse with 
 him upon his own accountability to God, or on his du- 
 ties to his family, he at once turned off to other subjects. 
 She had of late chosen devotional reading, and closed 
 every interview by a selection from the book of Common 
 Prayer ; and now that he was well enough to resume his 
 work, she could do nothing more for his salvation, except 
 to commend his soul to God, in private. His wife still 
 continued hopeful of his conversion. The change in her 
 was very marked, and exhibited itself in her softened 
 manners, as well as in the principles by which she ji- 
 deavored to regulate her life. 
 
 By the charity of Uncle Stephen, the shop in which 
 lie formerly worked had been refitted for his use ; and as 
 he exhibited no disposition to resume his idle habits, but 
 on the contrary often said he shuddered when he thought, 
 how he had stood on the brink of ruin, there was every 
 
 203
 
 204 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 reason to hope that he would become a reformed man, 
 and be able to support his family in comfort. 
 
 We will now accompany Alice to the neatly-furnished 
 home of Mrs. Hayden, where Nurse Green is fully estab- 
 Hshed. Minnie is watching at the window, and when 
 she hears the well-known step, shouts joyfully, " Mamma, 
 mamma, dat lady come." 
 
 After a kind word to each, the visitor devotes herself 
 for a full half hour to a lively play with her little friend, 
 who, by her artlessness and attractions, has woven her- 
 self closely around the young lady's heart. The liveliness 
 of the game she finds the best medicine for the afflicted 
 mother, by drawing her thoughts for a time from herself. 
 She thinks she has never seen a lovelier object than Min- 
 nie this morning presents. Her flaxen ringlets have re- 
 ceived additional care, in anticipation of a ride she is to 
 take with her kind benefactress. 
 
 Alice has expressed herself so enthusiastically in be- 
 half of her children, as she playfully calls Dexter and 
 Minnie, that the family at Lindenwood are quite impa- 
 tient for a sight of them ; and, as this is Wednesday, 
 when Dexter has the afternoon, she has promised to carry 
 them there. The carriage will come for her at twelve 
 o'clock, so that she is only waiting for school to be done, 
 in :>rder to put on the little gypsy hat she has provided 
 for Minnie, and be ready to start. 
 
 While she is waiting I will say a few words about the 
 mother, Nurse Green, and Dr. Jenks. Mrs. Hayden is 
 much stronger than when we first introduced her to the 
 reader, and is able to sit in her chair, and occupy herself 
 with light sewing, a great part of the day. But she has
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 a bad cough, and in the afternoon a bright, hectic (lush 
 beautifies her cheeks, giving her a most brilliant appear- 
 ance. Her nights are restless, and her sleep nnrefresh- 
 ing, so that Nurse Green has insisted Minnie should 
 share her brother's bed, that she might be near to attend 
 to the wants of her patient. Alice has been able to 
 make an arrangement with the good woman, which is 
 very satisfactory to all parties. She has persuaded her 
 to give up her own tenement, and to remain permanently 
 with Mrs. Hayden, until her husband's term of one year's 
 imprisonment has expired. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley and a number of other ladies who have 
 become acquainted with the case, supply them with sew- 
 ing, so that they need not feel that they are supported by 
 charity. It was at first somewhat difficult to restrain 
 Uncle Stephen, who would have had the nurse devote 
 her entire time to the invalid ; but his young almoner 
 assured him she should find others with an equal claim 
 upon him, and she knew that it would be far better for 
 fhem to maintain their independence. 
 
 When she found Mrs. Hayden was likely to be a con- 
 firmed invalid, she went frankly to her old friend, Dr. 
 Jenks, and, after telling him in what a situation she had 
 found the family, asked if he were in need of any more 
 gratuitous practice. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " replied the doctor, smiling at the arch 
 way she put the question. " At the present time I am 
 much in need of patients. Ever since your old friend 
 Justin Gates gave me the slip, I have had nothing of that 
 kind to do. Indeed," he added, with mock gravity, " thr^e 
 18
 
 206 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 are sad times for a physician ; there is an alarming de 
 gree of health prevalent through the town." 
 
 " But, Doctor," said Alice, " it is but fair to inform you 
 that she will be likely to need medical advice for a long 
 time. Not often, perhaps not for several weeks together ; 
 but she needs a physician who will give her general 
 directions as to diet and exercise." 
 
 Just so. Well, Til call. Where does she live ? " 
 
 Alice described the place, and gave him a brief account 
 of the children. 
 
 He started upon his feet, and exclaimed, " Mind you, 
 if I live I'll make a doctor of that boy ! I've had my 
 eye on him for some time. He puzzled old Deacon Dane 
 at the examination of the academy. Yes, I remember 
 him. He's a noble fellow." 
 
 And now the carriage has come. Minnie is dressed, 
 and they are only waiting for Dexter to return from 
 school before they drive to Lindenwood. Alice notices 
 an expression of anxiety upon the mother's countenance, 
 and says, I will bring them back safely." 
 
 " I hope they will behave well," was the response. 
 While she speaks, the outer door opens, and Dexter en- 
 ters, with his satchel of books. He quickly places them 
 in the small cupboard, and runs to make a slight change 
 in his dress. He is absent but a moment, before he re- 
 turns, kisses his mother, whose eye rests upon him with 
 fond affection ; then, taking Minnie in his arms, puts 
 her into the carriage, and they drive rapidly away from 
 the door. Nurse Green shades her eyes from the sun. 
 and watches them as far as she can see. 
 
 Alice met with no disappointment in the opinion ex
 
 IN DISGl'ISK. 207 
 
 pressed by her friends with regard to her little favorites. 
 Minnie had never appeared so lovely as when hiding her 
 face under the deep berthe worn by her friend, or nestling 
 close to her side, while the curls of chestnut brown, 
 united with those of light golden, presented a pleasing 
 contrast. 
 
 Uncle Stephen was almost in an ecstasy, when, after 
 refusing to leave Alice for any of the family, Minnie act- 
 ually put out her arms to him. He took out his watch 
 and held it to her ear; he gave her all the peppermints 
 and cloves he could find in his pockets, and finally told 
 Alice to give him a gold eagle, from the drawer, which 
 happened to have a hole pierced in it. This he attached 
 by a chain to her neck, and told her to keep it to remem- 
 ber him by. 
 
 " Her fortune is made," said a clear bass voice behind 
 lirn, and looking quickly around, they saw that Clarence 
 unobserved, had joined the group. He seemed very 
 much amused, and as he took the hand of Dexter, and 
 inquired for his mother, his voice was more cheerful than 
 for many days. Bat as soon as the little miss saw that 
 a stranger was added to the company, she sprang to the 
 floor, and almost with one bound jumped into Alice's 
 embrace, clasping her tightly around the neck. The 
 cheeks of each of them were so rosy, their eyes so bright, 
 and their countenances so radiant with happiness, that 
 for one moment all stood motionless, gazing at the beau- 
 tiful tableau before them. 
 
 " Alice ! " exclaimed Emma, archly, " 1 don't believe 
 but you've been practising attitudes with Minnie, and 
 that \vas why you wouldn't bring her here earlier."
 
 208 
 
 THE .HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Before she could reply, the child, as if she fully intend- 
 ed to heighten the color of her kind friend, put up her 
 sweet lips for a kiss, saying with enthusiasm. " Minnie 
 love her ; Minnie do love her, and Dexter love her, too." 
 
 At that moment Mrs. Stanley met Clarence's eye, and 
 it said, as plainly as eyes can speak, " and Clarence love 
 her, too." 
 
 " Minnie, go to the lady," rejoined Alice, wishing to 
 turn the attention from herself, and at the same time 
 holding her toward Emma, who had been longing to 
 have the child in her arms ; " I will find the pretty doll 
 for her, I promised." She was glad to be alone to still 
 the tumultuous throbbing of her heart. " He has for- 
 given me ! " she exclaimed, aloud, when locked in her 
 own room. " His coldness and reserve has passed away, 
 and he does, yes, he does love me ! Oh, I am too, too 
 happy ! What delight, to be loved by such a pure, noble- 
 hearted man ! " She pressed her hands upon her heart, 
 as if she would thus keep it from bursting with excess 
 of joy. But soon, too soon, came other thoughts. " What 
 if I have mistaken him ? What if it were only Minnie 
 he gazed at so fondly, and I took it to myself?" She 
 sighed heavily. " Yes, it must be so. Gertrude says he 
 has often declared his affection for her, and he would not 
 deceive. No, it is I who have deceived myself, and when 
 I thought my affection for him was almost conquered." 
 She sank upon a chair, and covered her face with her 
 hands. For a time her heart was torn with conflicting 
 emotions, as she reflected, " Gertrude can never make 
 him happy. Why can I not try to gain his love ? I have 
 often doubted of late whether he really did love her. Oh,
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 I would not value any sacrifice as too great to enable me 
 to contribute to hi* happiness ! " 
 
 But she was too much in the habit, of governing her- 
 self by the rule of right, to cherish such sentiments, and 
 she sprang upon her feet with bitter self-reproach, that 
 such thoughts had ever found their way into her mind. 
 Making great effort to resume her cheerfulness, she took 
 from the drawer a doll she had rejuvenated for Minnie, 
 and carried it below. 
 
 Mr. Stanley and Uncle Stephen were much interested 
 in Dexter. The former sat by his side, and in a manner 
 very social for a man of his reserved habits, drew the lad 
 into conversation upon his studies. When he had satis- 
 fied himself that the boy had uncommon powers of mind, 
 he asked, " Do you wish for an education ? " 
 
 He colored deeply, and cast down his eyes, as he 
 thought of the change in his circumstances ; but, with 
 difficulty repressing his emotion, he replied, " I always 
 used to wish I could be a doctor, but now I suppose I 
 shall go to a trade." 
 
 " No, you sha'n't! " exclaimed Uncle Stephen, kicking 
 his footstool half way across the room, " that is, if you 
 still prefer doctoring." 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir ! I prefer that to everything." 
 
 " But what makes you think you should like to be cut- 
 ting off people's limbs, and pulling their teeth ? Or per- 
 haps you imagine you would have nothing to do but to 
 ride about, make pleasant calls, and leave your jalap and 
 picra for somebody else to mix." 
 
 The boy laughed heartily, as did all present, at the 
 grotesque faces of the old gentleman, as he tried to rep 
 .18*
 
 210 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 resent the duties of a physician in the most unfavorable 
 point of view ; but he answered earnestly, though very 
 respectfully, " I know, sir, doctors do not live an easy 
 life. They are often obliged to be out at night, am! 
 to do much that is disagreeable ; but when 1 was a very 
 small boy I can remember that I used to envy Dr. Jenkn. 
 as the greatest man in the world. He appeared to me r.o 
 know everything; and I have seen, since I have grown 
 older, that he does a great deal of good. Then every- 
 body is so glad to see a doctor. Mother is better for two 
 or three days after every visit he makes." 
 
 " Well, my boy,". responded Uncle Stephen, his bright 
 eyes twinkling with pleasure, " you have given some good 
 reasons for your choice of a profession. I suppose while 
 we live in this wicked world, we shall always be obliged 
 to have doctors ; so set your heart at rest, a doctor you 
 shall be." 
 
 Dexter did not, by any means, appreciate the good in- 
 tentions of the gentleman; but he thanked him for his 
 kind interest, and then the conversation turned to other 
 subjects. 
 
 At an early hour Alice gave Minnie a nice bowl of 
 bread and milk, and having received from Mrs. Stanley 
 a basket containing cake and tarts, for the invalid, she 
 returned with the children to their home. Gertrude, who 
 had an errand at the village, accompanied her. She was 
 left first, and directed the driver to call for her on his re- 
 turn, so that Alice had only time to delight Mrs. Hayden 
 by her account of the good conduct of Minnie, and to 
 assure her that both she and Dexter had made some 
 warm friends, before she was obliged to hurry away.
 
 'N DISGUISE. 21 I 
 
 Just as they reached home, Gertrude said, in a low 
 voice, " Alice, I ought to tell you that Clarence sees 
 through your designs, and despises you for them. You 
 well know that father has fixed his heart upon a union 
 between Clarence afid one of his daughters, and it is 
 very ungrateful for you to set yourself up in the way you 
 do to attract his attention. When father raised you from 
 poverty, and by his kindness made you all that you are, 
 I wonder you do not see the impropriety of your conduct 
 in wholly disregarding his wishes." 
 
 The profound astonishment of Alice kept her silent. 
 Indeed, her lips seemed incapable of uttering a word ; 
 and as they had now reached home, and the coachman 
 was letting down the steps, there was no farther oppor- 
 tunity to do so. Clarence, who had been sitting near 
 the window, perceived the carriage drive up the avenue, 
 and hastened to the door to assist them to alight. He 
 almost started back, as Alice, who was next the door, 
 mechanically put her hand in his, as she descended the 
 steps. Her face and lips were perfectly colorless, while 
 her small mouth was closely shut, as if she were in great 
 pain. 
 
 " You arc ill, Alice ! " he exclaimed, with great tender- 
 ness ; but she turned almost rudely from him, though she 
 was obliged to catch hold of the door to save herself from 
 falling. For an instant he gazed sadly after her, and then 
 turned to give his arm to Gertrude, who received him 
 very graciously, and whispered a few words in his car. 
 Whatever was their import, they only made him more 
 grave, and by the time Alice returned to the parlor, which 
 she did not for an hour or more, he had assumed an ap-
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 pearance of sternness entirely foreign to his character. 
 She had only reentered the parlor at the request of her 
 mother, and did not even glance at the young man, until 
 Edith touched her on the arm, whispering, "Just see 
 Clarence! He looks like a cannibal, and as if he were 
 meditating an attack upon our whole party, for the sake 
 of a good meal." 
 
 Alice merely glanced at him, and then bent her eyes 
 upon the page before her. That glance, however, sufficed 
 to show her that he was not only displeased, but suffer- 
 ing. Her heart beat quickly, and it was with great diffi- 
 culty she forced herself to keep her seat, and appea) cairn.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue, 
 Where patience, honor, sweet humanity, 
 Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish." 
 
 Thompson. 
 
 A WEEK after the visit of Dexter and Minnie at Lin- 
 denvvood, Alice was on her way to the village, when she 
 met a young man whom she had formerly known, but 
 whom she had not seen for many years. This was no 
 other than a son of Dr. Jenks, who had lately returned 
 from sea. He was extremely cordial in his manner of 
 meeting her, and declared, " By all that's sacred, if I'd 
 even suspected how handsome you'd grown, I couldn't 
 have rested until I had called to see you." 
 
 The young lady was very much annoyed by his fa- 
 miliarity, and did not hesitate to reprove him for what 
 she, in her conscientiousness, considered as almost an 
 oath. 
 
 " Oh, I see you are just the same old sixpence," he 
 added, gazing passionately in her face. " You've given 
 
 me many a scolding, but, by There ! I was going 
 
 to offend again. You see I'm provoked that I've lost so 
 much time in calling upon you. I never dreamed you'd 
 be such a beauty ; but I'll call very soon." 
 
 " I don't think that it would be convenient," answered 
 Alice, gravely. "I live entirely at the Hall, now. In- 
 deed, Mrs. Stanley has adopted me for her child, though 
 
 213
 
 214 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 my own mother still lives ; " and she walked very fast s 
 that she might the sooner be free from his company. 
 Finding it impossible to rid herself of him, she covered 
 her face with her veil, and, with her head bent down, 
 hurried on. But her trials were not yet over, for, upon 
 turning the corner leading into the street where Mrs. 
 Hayden lived, she almost ran into the arms of Clarence. 
 
 Each started back with apologies ; but Clarence's lip 
 curled with contempt when he saw who was her com- 
 panion. Even when she reached her destination, she 
 feared he would not leave her, as he insisted upon wait- 
 ing to accompany her home. But she told him she 
 could not tell when she should return, and, when she did, 
 she preferred going alone ; and, finding he could gain no 
 favor from her, he determined to wait another oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 Poor Alice ! she had scarcely entered the house, and 
 taken a seat, before she burst into a passionate fit of 
 weeping. Her long pent-up emotions broke forth with 
 violence, and for a time entirely overwhelmed her. Mrs. 
 Hayden and Minnie looked on in wonder, and shed 
 many sympathizing tears, while Nurse Green untied the 
 strings of her bonnet, took oft' her shawl, saying, in a 
 soothing tone, "There, dear, don't cry so. What can it 
 be ? Is anybody dead ? " 
 
 The poor girl could make no reply, but sobbed as if 
 her heart would break. 
 
 At first Minnie was frightened, but now she pushed a 
 chair close by Alice, climbed up into it, and clasped her 
 neck, lisping, " Don't cry, please don't cry ; Minnie do 
 "ove her two whole barrels full." Then she took nei
 
 IN DISGI'ISK. 
 
 apron, and tried to wipe away the tears, which wt-ro 
 pouring like rain down the cheeks of li-er dear friend. 
 
 The affection of the sweet child had the effect to draw 
 her thoughts from her own trials. She dried her eyes, 
 and expressed her regret that she should have troubled 
 them with her grief. " I believe/' she added, with a 
 faint attempt to smile, "that I am growing nervous wilh 
 not having enough to do. I must get you, Mrs. Green, 
 to tell me of some families where they need assistance." 
 
 If Clarence could have seen the expression of patient 
 endurance, as it then showed itself upon her counte- 
 nance, he might have suspected that all was not quite as 
 he had been led to believe." 
 
 " I hope," answered the good nurse, " that you will 
 continue to feel so, for there is no telling what a comfort 
 your bright face and cheerful voice carry into a sick 
 room, to say nothing of all else you do. La, now! 
 she continued, growing warm with the subject, which 
 was a favorite one, " I've seen many people come in to 
 visit an invalid with such a gloomy face, they were 
 enough to frighten one to death. Now to my mind 
 that's all wrong. Sick persons are usually nervous, and 
 a good deal out of sorts, and it does them no manner ol 
 good to tell over all their aches and pains. Why, I've 
 known folks that meant well, only they didn't under- 
 stand human nater, talk by the hour together of the 
 ino.st horrid sicknesses and nccidents, telling of some- 
 body who had the same complaint, and died wilh it, and 
 getting the patient all worked up inio a fever. I believe, 
 if people would be cheerful, and talk about pleasing 
 things, as you do, 'twould be a sight, better."
 
 216 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " i am afraid," replied Alice, " that my visit this morn- 
 ing has not cheered your patient," 
 
 "There, don't now!" said the warm-hearted nurse, 
 wiping a tear from her eye at the sadness with which 
 the young lady spoke; "don't go to thinking' I alluded 
 to you in what I said, for I never thought of such a 
 thing." 
 
 " Have you received a letter ? " inquired Alice, seeing 
 an open envelope lying in Mrs. Hayden's lap. 
 
 " Yes, I received it yesterday," was the reply. " Dex- 
 ter brought it from the office on his way from school. 
 He was so much excited about it, he wanted to carry it 
 to Lindenwood, and show it to you ; but. I persuaded 
 him to wait until you came. Perhaps you would prefer 
 to read it at another time," she added, taking the letter 
 into her hand. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I will read it now." She had not proceeded 
 many lines before she was convinced who was the writer, 
 though no name was attached. It was written in a 
 hand evidently feigned, and was as follows : 
 
 " To Mrs. Hayden : 
 
 Dear Madam, Hearing a short time since that your 
 son Dexter had a great desire to acquire an education, 
 and that, he was possessed of a good mind, capable, if 
 rightly improved, of becoming a useful man, and having 
 in my hands a fund for the education of worthy youth, 
 I propose to devote such a part of it, as may be neces- 
 sary, to his thorough education. Enclosed, find bills to 
 the amount of fifty dollars, for one quarter's expenses. 
 You will receive an envelope from the post-office, con-
 
 IN DISGUISE. 217 
 
 taining the same amount, and directed to yourself, every 
 three months, as long as your son remains deserving. 
 
 Yours, sincerely." 
 
 While Alice was reading, her companions watched 
 her closely, to see if her looks confirmed their suspicions 
 as to the writer. When she had finished, she only said, 
 " I am glad Dexter has found so true and generous a 
 friend." 
 
 " La, miss ! " exclaimed Nurse Green, who was by no 
 means without her own share of curiosity, " 'tis by no 
 means likely but what you've read it before." 
 
 " Indeed," answered Alice, " I knew nothing of it until 
 now." 
 
 "And ha'n't, no ideas on the subject?" inquired the 
 good woman, archly. 
 
 " Oh, nurse, don't tease Miss Alice," interrupted Mrs. 
 Hayden, before she had time to reply. " It is very plain 
 to me, whoever this kind friend may be, he wishes to 
 remain unknown to us ; and I would be the last one to 
 try to find him out. Only I thought, as I lay awake in 
 the night, 'twould be a relief if I could let him know 
 what a burden he's lifted off my heart with regard to 
 my boy. For years I have tried to keep up and make 
 the best of everything for his sake. I suppose I may be 
 called partial and blind to his faults; but he has been 
 everything to me. When pressed to the earth with 
 sorrow, that child has talked with me, and pointed me 
 to God, who could bring good out of evil. I have often 
 ceased weeping; to gaze at him in wonder that such 
 words could come from the mouth of a child ; and now, 
 19
 
 218 THE HOUSEHOLD AN'GEL 
 
 when I am gradually wasting away, and remember that 
 he and Minnie will soon have no mother to watch over 
 them, God only knows what a relief it is to me to feel 
 thai he has put it into the heart of some kind friend to 
 feei an interest for him, and provide so nobly for his 
 wants." 
 
 Alice had never before heard Mrs. Hayden make any 
 allusion to her own declining health, and was much 
 affected by the calmness with which the invalid was 
 enabled to look forward to a change of woilds. 
 
 " For their sake," resumed the mother, " I have prayed 
 to be spared yet a little longer ; for though, in one sense, 
 I can do nothing for them, and, indeed, am only a care, 
 yet I hope to impress upon the mind of my little Minnie, 
 as well as her brother, the love of truth the desire to 
 do right, let- what will corne, and then to leave the event 
 with God. Night after night I spend in prayer for tnem, 
 and for " She checked herself, and then continued: 
 " Sometimes I feel perfectly willing to give them up, 
 and am confident that God will watch over them, and 
 preserve them from sin, and bring them safely home to 
 heaven. But then, again, Satan puts doubts into my 
 mind, and I remember that they will probably be liable 
 to great and peculiar temptations. J lose my hold on 
 God's promises, and am overwhelmed with distress. 
 When that letter came, I viewed it as a sign of my 
 heavenly Father's favor, sent to convince me that he 
 could take care of my children ; and I was enabled to 
 give them up into his hands. After that he granted me 
 delightful views of himself. His love 'for sinners, his 
 desire that the most abandoned should turn to him and
 
 IN DISGUISE 219 
 
 live, appeared plainer to me than ever before and I was 
 enabled, with earnest faith in his promises, to plead not 
 only for them, but for one nearly allied to them." 
 
 It was very unusual for Mrs. Hayden to speak of her- 
 self ; indeed, there was a sensitiveness, and a shrinking 
 from all subjects connected with her own peculiar trials, 
 which had always restrained her young friend from 
 making the most distant allusion to them. But the 
 generous offer contained in the letter opened her heart, 
 and caused this burst of feeling. Alice hid her face 
 behind Minnie, \vhom she held in her arms, to hide the 
 emotion she could not suppress, and soon after rose to 
 take her leave.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Forbear sharp speeches to her. She's a lady 
 So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes. 
 And strokes death to her." Shakspeare. 
 
 MAURICE JENKS was the only son of the good doctor, 
 and the only child with the exception of a daughter, 
 who was married, and lived in the West. 
 
 When a child, Alice was acquainted with him. They 
 attended school together, and many times had he drawn 
 her home upon his sled, or seated her upon the back of 
 it while he coasted down hill. In this way, he had 
 become acquainted with Louis, who was not abl# to 
 attend school, but who extended a cordial welcome to 
 the boy who was so kind to his beloved friend, and who 
 also brought him whistles and other toys of his own 
 manufacture. 
 
 Maurice was a frank, open-hearted boy, and on ac- 
 count of his generous, obliging temper, as well as for his 
 father's sake, he was a general favorite. From his ear- 
 liest childhood he evinced a passion for the sea, and, 
 when not more than eight years old, would spend hours 
 in the manufacture of a miniature vessel, and in reading 
 with absorbing interest any book connected with his 
 favorite subject. 
 
 About the time Emma and Edith first left home for 
 school in F , and when he was in his fifteenth year 
 
 he announced to his parents that he was going to New 
 220
 
 TIIF. HOUSEHOLD ANGEL IN DISGUISE. 22\ 
 
 York to become a sailor. They were very decided in 
 refusing their consent; bat, as they had always been 
 excessively indulgent, and had heretofore allowed him to 
 do pretty much as he chose, he did not for a moment 
 give up his plan on that account, but, taking advantage 
 one night of his father's absence, he absconded from 
 home with only a small bundle of clothes under his arm. 
 and two dollars of money in his pocket. Before hi? 
 flight was discovered, he was far on his way, and, on 
 reaching New York, found a vessel on the point of sail- 
 ing for the East Indies, and the captain very willing to 
 take a smart, active lad, as he appeared to be. 
 
 For a few hours he considered himself fortunate in 
 escaping so easily from home, and entering upon the 
 pursuit which had for years been the subject of his 
 thoughts by day and his dreams by night. But, when 
 the vessel was fairly out at sea, and the swell of the 
 billows began to have their usual effect, he crept aft, 
 away from the rough tars, who only laughed at his dis- 
 tress, and there, hiding behind a coil of rope, he laid 
 himself down, and almost wished to die. 
 
 Poor boy! Now, for the first time, he began to real- 
 i/e the change in his situation, and to see his folly and 
 ingratitude in having left his parents and his home. 
 Oh, how he longed for one word of forgiveness from 
 them! how he yearned for his mother to put her hand 
 on his aching head! The bitter thought of the pain 
 and anxiety he had caused them, and which they must 
 endure for years, entirely overwhelmed him with remorse, 
 and he covered his face with his hands, and cried aloud. 
 For the next two days, he was so seasick and homesick 
 19*
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 that ':e could not stand ; and, had it not been for the 
 kindness of one of the sailors, he would have suffered 
 severely. 
 
 This honest fellow took compassion on him, and ear- 
 ned him below, conveyed his food to the hammock 
 where he lay, talked cheerfully with him, and adminis- 
 tered to his necessities with the tenderness of a brother, 
 until he was able to be about the ship. 
 
 For a long time after it was ascertained that Maurice 
 had sailed for India, Mrs. Jenks was inconsolable. The 
 doctor had followed the runaway to New York, and 
 there found that a boy answering exactly to the descrip- 
 tion of his son had taken a berth on board a ship ready 
 for sea. 
 
 The mother and father severely reproached themselves 
 for not having given their consent ; and then he might 
 have been well fitted out for his long voyage. Now she 
 was sure he would take cold, be sick, and die. 
 
 But when, at the end of a year and a half, he came 
 bounding into the kitchen, and put his arms about his 
 mother's neck, kissing her again and again as he begged 
 her to forgive him for leaving home, she only stopped for 
 one long gaze, to be sure that the tall, bronzed youth 
 taking such liberties with her was her own lost son, 
 before she caught him 'in her arms, wholly unmindful of 
 Die prints of flour and paste she was leaving on his new 
 sailor round-about. Nor until an hour after, when she 
 was seated with him in the small south parlor, where we 
 first introduced her to the reader, did she remember that 
 her oven must have grown cold, and that her bread and 
 pies were still upon the table.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 223 
 
 Toward nooi>, when the doctor returned home, Mau- 
 rice showed that he was still the same mirth-loving boy 
 as of old; for no sooner did he hear his father's buggy 
 come driving into the yard than he caught his cap, and 
 darled behind the door; and, though his mother was 
 fearful it would be too sudden for his doating father, yet 
 she could not reprove her son when he had just returned 
 home. 
 
 So the good doctor had an equal surprise with his 
 wife ; for, when he had seated himself, and taken a paper 
 from his hat to read until dinner was ready, a voice from 
 behind him whispered, " Father ! " 
 
 He started from his chair, gazed around him, and, 
 seeing no one, said, quickly, " Mother, did you hear 
 that ? If our boy was at home, I should say that was 
 his voice." 
 
 " Father, dear father ! " said the voice again. 
 
 The now excited father sprang to the closet, threw 
 back the door, and his son leaped into his arms. 
 
 Finding that he was in no way weary of the life he 
 had chosen, and that he had brought letters of good con- 
 duct from his captain, his parents wisely concluded to 
 allow him to follow his inclination, and make another 
 voyage. During this visit, he went to Lindenwood, and 
 carried his father's little patient a beautiful model of a 
 schooner he Ir.id made on board ship. Since that time 
 tley hud never seen him, but Alice had heard with sor- 
 row that of late he had so conducted himself as to be a 
 great grief to his worthy parents ; w and, when she met 
 him so unexpectedly in the street, his manner was so 
 familiar, and even rude, that she determined to avoid
 
 224 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 him in future, though, for the sake of his good father 
 she would have been glad to treat him kindly. 
 
 Maurice had now grown to the size of a man. His 
 visit to tropical climates had bronzed his cheeks, but 
 his exercise on board ship had made his frame supple 
 and elastic, and altogether he was in appearance a noble 
 specimen of an American sailor. 
 
 His mother wept at home as she thought that all his 
 noble qualities should be shadowed by the vices which 
 are, alas ! too common among the sons of Neptune. But 
 his father believed there was a God in heaven, who 
 would answer his earnest prayers for the salvation of his 
 child. Morning and evening he was borne in the arms 
 of faith to the family altar, and often, in his solitary 
 midnight rides, the distance was shortened by the fervor 
 of the good father's appeals in behalf of his erring son. 
 
 Alice had seldom been so oppressed with sadness as 
 when she left the cottage of Mrs. Hayden, and started 
 for home. Though the sun was now high in the heavens, 
 and was shining in full splendor, yet to her everything 
 appeared dark and gloomy. She was not superstitious ; 
 yet she had a sense of coming ill which she could not 
 throw off. In addition to her secret trial of struggling 
 against her affection for Clarence, and the unkindness 
 of Edith and Gertrude, she had for some time been 
 anxious about her mother, whose insanity seemed taking 
 a new turn. At times she appeared wholly weaned 
 from her child, and had even forbidden the title of 
 mother. " You belong to them now who adopted you," 
 she would urge ; " and why do you come here troubling 
 me ? " But if, in obedience to her command, Alice
 
 IN DISGUISE. 225 
 
 refrained from visiting her, she was extremely jealous, 
 and thought it hard her only child couldn't remain with 
 hfr mother. 
 
 Alice often determined to leave the Hall, and devote 
 herself exclusively to the poor lunatic ; but to this plan 
 neither she, nor the young girl's friends, would consent, 
 as the presence of her child, for any length of time, inva- 
 riably made her worse. 
 
 Mrs. Carey had always been considered harmless, and 
 wandered about wherever she pleased. Of late she had 
 come to the Hall much oftener than usual. She would 
 walk noiselessly through the spacious rooms, glancing 
 into every apartment, until she found her child, and as- 
 certained how she was employed, when she generally 
 withdrew quietly, and returned home. Only a few days 
 before this, she came in, and found Alice reading in the 
 bow-window, and, unperceived by all but Edith, who was 
 near the door, was gliding away, when the haughty girl 
 exclaimed, " I wish father would have that woman shut 
 up ! It's enough to frighten one to death to see her 
 ghastly face come up before you so unexpectedly. 1 de- 
 clare, Alice, if I were you, I believe I should die of mor- 
 tification ! " 
 
 Alice stood up, her eyes flashing with indignation at 
 this unfeeling attack, and was about to speak sharply, 
 when the weird woman suddenly returned, and with a 
 commanding gesture motioned her to be seated. She 
 then advanced toward Edith, with a wildness in her eye 
 which really frightened all present, and standing full be 
 fore her, hissed through her teeth, " Beware, the hour of 
 retribution is at hand ! "
 
 226 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 The rich bloom upon Edith's countenance faded in- 
 stantly as these prophetic words met her ear ; but, with 
 a contemptuous, " Pshaw, none of your croaking here," 
 she turned to the window, and the poor, insane creature^ 
 left the apartment. 
 
 As the mind of Alice recurred to this and other late 
 scenes, it was with great difficulty she overcame the feel- 
 ings of utter despondence which threatened to sink her ; 
 indeed, she already perceived the unfavorable effect upon 
 her health of her inward conflict. Yet no member of the 
 family suspected how severely she suffered. Mrs. Stan- 
 ley, indeed, noticed that at times she was pale and care- 
 worn, and feared there was a misunderstanding between 
 her and Clarence ; but as her adopted child made an ef- 
 fort to be cheerful in her presence, she was far from being 
 aware of the true state of her health and spirits. 
 
 On reaching home the poor girl felt so ill, that she 
 went at once to her own room, and, locking the door, 
 threw herself upon her bed. As she had met no one, the 
 family did not know she had returned, and, excepting the 
 ringing of the bell, there was no summons for her to din- 
 ner. It was, therefore, late in the afternoon when she 
 awoke from a heavy sleep, or rather when she was awakr 
 ened by the loud slamming of the door below, and a 
 heavy footstep coming up the stairs. As she heard him 
 kick along the chcJrs in his room, she recogni/ed the 
 sound as coming from Uncle Stephen, and wondered 
 what had occurred to irritate him. But she soon ceased 
 to think of him, as her throbbing temples warned her to 
 fall back upon her pillow. After lying awhile, with her 
 hands pressed tightly to her brow, she arose and bathed
 
 IN DISGUISE. 227 
 
 it freely with cold water. She then prepared to go be- 
 low, as she suddenly remembered that she had seen none 
 of the family since her return from the village. Passing 
 through the hall, she heard her mother's voice in the 
 kitchen, and went in there to see her. Mrs. Carey evinced 
 unusual anxiety for her child, and prevailed upon her to 
 wait until she could make her a cup of sage tea. Emma 
 soon came in, and expressed much surprise at finding she 
 had returned. After Alice had taken the tea, she returned 
 with Emma to the parlor, where the family were assem- 
 bled, waiting to be called to supper. She took a seat 
 near Mrs. Stanley, wondering as she did so at the cause 
 of their unusual constraint and silence ; but merely say- 
 ing, " I have taken a long nap, and did not hear the din- 
 ner bell." 
 
 " I thought you still absent, my dear," answered the 
 lady, with a slight gravity in her manner. " I think I 
 must break up this habit of yours, of running away 
 every day. You are getting to be quite too dissipated," 
 and she glanced, with an expression of sadness, at hei 
 child. 
 
 " Oh. please don't, mamma ! " urged Alice. " It would 
 really make me wretched to be deprived of going to see 
 my poor families ; and I'm sure it can do me no harm." 
 
 " Come here, child ! " called Uncle Stephen, in a tone 
 so different from the one in which he had heretofore ad- 
 dressed her, that the color rushed to her face, and made 
 her head throb painfully ; but she instantly obeyed, ad- 
 vanced, and stood before him, while all present were im- 
 patiently waiting for what would follow. Trying to con-
 
 228 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 trol his feelings, the excited man asked, sharply, " Whal 
 do you mean, child, by such shameful conduct ? " 
 
 Her quick start and glance of surprise around the 
 room, affected him, and he continued, in a softened voice, 
 " Oh, Alice ! how could you break my heart ? how coiiid 
 you deceive me so cruelly ? " and he began to sob. 
 
 " How have I offended ? " asked the bewildered girl, 
 starting toward him ; but he waved her off. 
 
 " How ? Oh, that's worse than all the rest ! Come, 
 child, it isn't too late now. Confess all, and I'll forgive 
 you, and do my part to make it all right with your 
 friends." 
 
 Alice put her hand to her head. The excitement al- 
 most deprived her of sight. 
 
 " Come, speak ! " urged Uncle Stephen, impatiently. 
 
 She shook her head ; there was a ringing sound in her 
 ears. 
 
 " No ? Well, inen, I must speak for you. You've 
 deceived us all. You've made a cloak of your piety, to 
 carry on a disgraceful flirtation with that young scape- 
 grace, Jenks. And I wouldn't believe it. I scorned the 
 idea, as unworthy of you, until Clarence assured me 
 'twas too true ; that he met you in his company, and that 
 your evident confusion convinced him it was even as we 
 had heard." 
 
 Alice stood as if petrified, until he spoke of Clarence, 
 when, with a suppressed moan, she fell senseless to the 
 floor. 
 
 Instantly all was confusion. Clarence started forward 
 to raise her; but, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, 
 Mr. Stanley haughtily motioned him back, and requested
 
 IN DISGUISE. 229 
 
 all but her mother to leave the room. He then gently 
 lifted her from the floor, and laid her upon the sofa, when 
 they used every effort to restore her to consciousness. 
 But for a long time the poor girl lay in a deep swoon,* 
 until, becoming alarmed, Mr. Stanley rang {he bell to 
 order a servant to go for the doctor. Just as he hurriedly 
 entered, Mrs. Stanley perceived a slight motion of the 
 breast, and soon the innocent sufferer slowly opened her 
 eyes, and gazed wonderingly about her. 
 
 The lady presented the salts, as her husband whispered 
 to her, " Clarence is unreasonably prejudiced. He spoke 
 too bitterly." 
 
 " Not for one instant have J believed this story," she 
 replied, earnestly, though in the same low tone. " She 
 will be able to explain all; but I can hardly forgive Clar- 
 ence." 
 
 " What has happened, Mamma ? " feebly asked Alice, 
 making an effort to raise herself from the pillow. 
 
 " You fainted, my dear. Rest quietly awhile, and I will 
 tell you all. I must go now, and prepare you a cordial." 
 
 ' No, Mamma, I have had a very bad headache to-day, 
 and would prefer not taking anything; but have you been 
 to tea? Don't let me detain you ; I am quite relieved." 
 
 " Well, my dear, 1 shall be gone but a few moments, 
 and Emma will remain with you." 
 
 There was very little eaten at supper that night. Uncle 
 Stephen was out of humor with everybody, but particu- 
 larly with himself. " After all," le muttered, "if they're 
 all against her, and even Clarence has joined in the ill 
 treatment, 1 here's the more reason for me to stand by her, 
 poor thing. She's been abused, that's my opinion." 
 20
 
 230 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 No one replied, but the countenance of his ward 
 showed that he was far from insensible. 
 
 Immediately after family prayer, during which Alice 
 tav upon the sofa, with her face concealed by her hand- 
 kerchief, Emma noticed that Edith motioned to Ger- 
 trude to accompany her up stairs, and she followed them, 
 intending to go to her own room, when she overheard the 
 following. " We've got ourselves into a pretty scrape. 
 I'm sorry 1 ever had anything to do with it, and now I've 
 a great mind to tell mother that the poor thing is entirely 
 innocent." 
 
 " If you do," replied Gertrude, angrily, " I'll never for- 
 give you." 
 
 As soon as she found an opportunity, Emma whis- 
 pered to her mother a request to see her as soon as she 
 could leave the room unnoticed. Alice lay as if asleep, 
 and Mrs. Stanley arose and followed her daughter. The 
 motion of shutting the door caused the poor girl to open 
 her eyes, and Clarence, observing it, advanced hastily to 
 her side. But the remembrance of his cruel insinuations 
 was too fresh in her mind to enable her to speak calmly 
 and she turned quickly away. He stood for one moment, 
 hesitating whether to address her, and then withdrew 
 from her side, when, thinking herself alone, with a burst 
 of feeling she exclaimed, " Cruel Clarence ! And even 
 my kind friend, Uncle Stephen, has turned against me. 
 Oh, my heavenly Father, comfort my poor heart, and 
 give me strength to bear every trial thou seest fit to send. 
 And oh, forgive those who are trying to injure me ! " 
 
 The young man could endure it no longer; suppos- 
 ing she referred to himself, he silently left the room,
 
 IN DISGUISE. 231 
 
 caught his hat from the rack, and wandered away at a 
 rapid speed. 
 
 Uncle Stephen was in his own room, where, with no 
 other light but the mild rays of the moon, he sat indulg- 
 ing IT the most bitter self-reproach. His ill humor had 
 entirely subsided, and he could only regret his late con- 
 duct toward one, he so dearly loved. Deep in his heart 
 there was a hard feeling toward Clarence, for leading 
 nun to such a course. At length a low tap at the door 
 arrer ted his attention, and, in answer to his sad " come 
 in," Mrs. Stanley entered, and seated herself at his side. 
 " I~f 3ar," she said, with some hesitation at commencing 
 the conversation, " that we have censured Alice without 
 rea? an." 
 
 " I know it ! " he exclaimed, quickly, " and hate my- 
 self for it. 'Twas all the effect of my horrid temper." 
 
 " Not all" answered the lady. She then repeated to 
 him what she had heard from Emma. " I would not 
 allow Alice," she continued, to explain to-night, as she 
 wished to do. I saw she w r as not able to endure the ex- 
 citement ; but I am convinced there is no truth in Edith's 
 story of her love for the young man. No doubt she will 
 explain the occasion of her being with him, to our satis- 
 faction. 
 
 " Humph," muttered the old gentleman, abstractedly ; 
 " wish I'd never left off my speaking trumpet." 
 
 Astonished at his calmness, when she expected an ex- 
 plosion of indignation, Mrs. Stanley left him, and soon 
 assisted Alice to bed. 
 
 It was not until a late hour that Clarence returned to 
 the hall ; but Mrs. Stanley was waiting for him, as she
 
 232 THH HOUSKHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 wished to repeat to him what she hajd done to his guard- 
 ian. " Whatever may be your feelings, with regard to the 
 poor girl," she added, with some bitterness, "justice to 
 her demands that you should know there has been an 
 endeavor to ruin her character. Her persecutors, far more 
 than she, are objects of pity, for I firmly believe that she 
 will come from this trial with a character that will shine 
 brighter than ever." 
 
 If she could have known the tumult of feeling occa- 
 sioned in the heart of her companion by this statement, 
 and the difficulty with which he found voice to respond 
 with the* simple word " amen," she would have left him 
 with far different feelings ; when he, thankful that the 
 dimly lighted hall enabled him to conceal his emotions, 
 hastily sought his own room. His guardian still occu- 
 pied a chair by the window, and, not receiving an answer 
 to his good night, he shut himself up in his bed-room, 
 for the first time within his remembrance with the seri- 
 ous displeasure of his kind benefactor resting upon him.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Better confide, and be deceiv'd 
 
 A thousand times by treacherous foes, 
 
 Than once accuse the innocent, 
 
 Or let suspicion mar reposeT Mrs. Osgood. 
 
 POOR Uncle Stephen! His thoughts, during that long 
 night, did not serve to render him more cheerful. As he 
 called to mind the earnest, piety of Alice from a little 
 child, and thought of the artlessness and purity which 
 had developed more and more every year, he found it 
 difficult to frame any excuse f6r his hasty accusation. 
 " I have borne with Gertrude and Edith," he soliloquized, 
 " and formerly with Emma, when I have heard them talk 
 unkindly to one another, and disrespectfully of their 
 mother ; but at the very first fault of Alice, if, indeed, it 
 were a fault, I burst out upon her in the presence of the 
 whole family, and I could not blame her if she never for- 
 gave me ; 'twould be no more than I richly deserve. 
 And after all, if she did love Maurice Jenks, he may nol 
 be the vile character they have represented, or she may 
 not be aware of it. Yes, I may as well confess it, my 
 anger was all caused by disappointment in finding my 
 plan defeated of marrying her to Clarence. Just as if 
 she had not a right to marry whom she chose ; and she 
 shall marry him if he proves himself worthy ; and I'll 
 set them up for life;" and the good man swallowed a 
 20* 233
 
 234 TilF. HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 great sob, and \vipcd his eyes, as he sacrificed his darling 
 project of her union with his ward. " Clarence/' he con- 
 tinued, " has proved himself false, and he may get along 
 as he can. If he didn't love her more than that, he isn't 
 worthy of her." 
 
 In the meantime the young man. who was one of the 
 subjects of his soliloquy, lay in a very unenviable frame 
 of mind, despising himself quite as heartily as his guar- 
 dian did, and feeling intense mortification that he had 
 been so easily led to belieVe deceit and wrong to exist in 
 one whom he had pretended to love. At times, he heard 
 the sound of Uncle Stephen's voice, though he could not 
 distinguish the words, which certainly would not have 
 had a tendency to soothe him. Not for one moment did 
 he lose the sense of his sorrow in sleep ; and it was not 
 until near dawn that he heard the old gentleman go into 
 his bedroom, and shut the door. 
 
 The next morning, when the family assembled for 
 breakfast, neither Uncle Stephen nor Alice made their 
 appearance ; but when the rest were about to separate, 
 after prayers, Mrs. Stanley said : " I am desired by my 
 adopted child to request you to suspend your judgment 
 of her until evening. She feels that a grave charge ha? 
 been made against her moral character; and that, too. 
 by those whom she has regarded as among her best 
 friends. Though it will be a great effort ; yet, this eve- 
 ning she wishes to explain some circumstance?, hoping 
 by that means to retain the good opinion of those she 
 values so highly." 
 
 Poor Clarence ! Every word thrust like a dagger to 
 his heart. But merely bowing his assent to the ex-
 
 IN" DISGUISE. 
 
 pressed wish, he left the house. It seemed to him as if 
 he must be under the influence of a dreadful dream, 
 the idea appeared so impossible that he should be placed 
 in sncn a relation to one in whose heart he had so earn- 
 estly hoped to awaken affection for himself. He knew 
 that it would be useless for him to attempt business, and, 
 therefore, instead of going to the office, he took a circuit- 
 ous route, which brought him again to the Hall, where 
 he succeeded in gaining an entrance to the parlor unseen 
 by any one ; and taking a book from the table, withdrew 
 into the bow-window. Here, after screening himself 
 from observation, he determined to remain until dinner, 
 as he knew at this season of the year the family usually 
 occupied their own rooms during the early part of the 
 day. 
 
 For the same reason Alice, an hour later, sought the 
 darkened parlor ; and languidly throwing herself upon 
 the sofa, sought to compose her mind for the task she 
 had undertaken. She was still far from well. The con- 
 tinued excitement of the previous day had operated upon 
 a frame already reduced, and she dreaded her self-imposed 
 explanations. 
 
 In the meantime, Gertrude and Edith were contriving 
 some way to prevent Alice from this open refutation of 
 Ihe charges against her. There was much recrimination 
 between them ; Edith charging her sister with being the 
 one to plan this injury to the poor girl, while she angrily 
 retorted, " You were ready enough to follow my sug- 
 gestions;" but both agreed that, as they had gone so 
 far, they must go farther, and 'in some way prevent the 
 discovery of their falsehood and persecution. At length,
 
 236 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 it was decided that Gertrude should see, and try to quiet 
 Alice, by offering to explain all that was necessary for 
 her, to the family. For this purpose she sought her in 
 her chamber, then listened intently at Uncle Stephen's 
 door, but hearing no conversation there, she feared the 
 object of her search had gone, as usual, to the village. 
 On opening the parlor door, however, she discovered her 
 lying, apparently asleep. She carefully closed the door, 
 and advancing to the sofa, inquired, " Are you ill, Alice ? 
 I will get you something to take." 
 
 The young girl opened her eyes at the unusual kind- 
 ness of the tone, and answered, " No, not ill." 
 
 Though her words were brief, there was a depth of 
 sadness in them which pierced even the heart of Ger- 
 trude. 
 
 For an instant she stood irresolute, devoutly regretting 
 the part she had taken, but now she must go on, or be 
 herself ruined, not only with Clarence, but with Uncle 
 Stephen. Then the old spirit of jealousy came up, and 
 she asked herself, " Shall Alice, the child of poverty, suc- 
 ceed in gaining the affections of one I love ? " and she 
 hesitated no longer. 
 
 " I am very sorry," she said, as the young girl lay with 
 her face averted, " for what occurred last evening. I 
 could not have believed Uncle Stephen would have 
 talked to you in the manner he did." 
 
 Alice sighed heavily, but made no reply. 
 
 " He would not have done so," continued she, relent- 
 lessly, " but for Clarence, who came home very much ex- 
 cited at the idea that you were associating with so worth- 
 less a fellow as Maurice Jenks. He thought it was a
 
 IN DISGUISE. 23 1 " 
 
 disgrace to all of us, particularly to yourself, for whom 
 your friends had done so much. Just think of what you 
 would have been if it were not for the kindness of our 
 family. Really, I have wondered, as I told you once 
 before, whether you had no pride about you. Why, if 
 1 were in your place I would no sooner marry a man so 
 much above me as Clarence is, than I would cut off my 
 two hands. I should feel as if ah 1 the world would say, 
 M Why couldn't he marry one in his own station, instead 
 of throwing himself away." 
 
 " Don't, oh, please don't ! " plead Alice, putting her 
 hands to her throbbing head. 
 
 But Gertrude had not yet done. " And that is not 
 the worst; Clarence loves me. Formerly he respected 
 you ; but the efforts you have made to attract his atten- 
 tion have disgusted him, so that he says he can hardly 
 look upon you with any degree of complacence ; and 
 he says, too, that, even if otherwise, he should never for 
 i moment think of marrying the daughter of an insane 
 \yoman." 
 
 " Oh, stop, stop ! '' cried Alice, as she raised herself to 
 a sitting posture, and pressed her hands convulsively to 
 her side. 
 
 Gertrude thought she had now nearly reached a point 
 whore her companion would gladly accept her offer to 
 procure for her a better state of feeling in the family ; 
 and she resumed : " I know there is no truth in what 
 Clarence supposes to be your intimacy with Maurice. 1 
 don't think you would stoop to that." 
 
 Alice started to her feet. Her eyes kindled almost 
 into a flame, and her whole countenance absolutely
 
 238 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 glowing with indignation, " Have you done?" she 
 asked, in bitter scorn. Do you intend to drive me mad 
 with your horrible insinuations ? Do you suppose I 
 have not known who it was that was making an at- 
 tempt to blast my character in the eyes of those 1 most 
 dearly love ? Yes, I have known, and every day I have 
 prayed that God would open your eyes to a sense of 
 your injustice, and that He would enable me to forgive 
 you. And you will not succeed. I deny all your foul 
 charges. I scorn your hints of my immorality ; " and 
 she drew herself up to her full height, as if she were 
 ready to assert her innocence before the world. " As for 
 Uncle Stephen, I know him so well, that I believe by 
 this time he bitterly repents his momentary injustice, to 
 which he was unwillingly led by the suggestions of 
 others." 
 
 " Why not express your opinion of Clarence ? " asked 
 her companion, tauntingly, and trying to conceal the 
 effect of Alice's manner upon herself. 
 
 " I am willing to do so," she replied, proudly ; " I be- 
 lieve that my character has been misrepresented to him ; 
 for what purpose, you perhaps can best judge ; and see- 
 ing me yesterday walking with Maurice, seemed for the 
 time to confirm some slanderous reports though, how 
 our names could have been connected, I cannot easily 
 conceive, as yesterday was the first time I had seen him 
 for years. I also believe that when I tell them this, and 
 ask the ground of their suspicions, for I intend to be de- 
 terred by no false delicacy from thoroughly investigating 
 the whole matter, that all my friends, and he among the 
 rest, will restore then- confidence to me, and I shall once
 
 IN msGrisK. 239 
 
 more be happy. 1 believe him to be all that is true, 
 noble, and generous, and I sincerely wish him all the 
 happiness he so richly deserves. But I do not believe he 
 ever spoke of me in the way you mention. I deny 
 wholly ever giving him reason to suppose that I was 
 seeking his affection. I would die before I would be 
 guilty of so unmaidenly an act; and / know he does 
 not cherish such an opinion of me, if I am, as you so 
 tauntingly remind me, the child of an insane mother, 
 supported by the charity of your parents. Neither do I 
 believe that he loves you, for you are wholly unlike. He 
 is a man of truth, of honor and unbending integrity; 
 you, have been guilty of the meanest falsehoods, and 
 restrained by no principles of honor or justice from a 
 series of persecutions toward a poor girl, who has never 
 offended you, but whom you fancied in the way of your 
 own wishes. 
 
 " Did you never hear that even a worm would turn 
 upon those who would crash it to the earth ? Did you 
 never think that there was a God in the heavens, who 
 sees all that we do, and who will avenge the wrongs 
 done to his children ? I fully believe that he will help 
 me to prove my own innocence ; for, as I stand here in 
 his presence, and realize that he is acquainted not only 
 with my actions, but with the secret purposes of rny 
 heart, I again repeat that I am not guilty of the charges 
 you have from time to time brought against me.'' 
 
 Alice still stood proudly erect, her chest expanding as 
 she uttered the last sentence, with her eyes raised, and 
 her whole countenance beaming with a holy trust and 
 confidence in her heavenly Father. But the excitement
 
 240 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 had carried her beyond her strength ; and, when she 
 ceased, she had only time to gain her seat before she 
 sank upon the pillow in a state of perfect exhaustion. 
 
 It would be in vain to try to describe the indigna- 
 tion, grief, and self-condemnation which struggled for 
 mastery in the breast of Clarence, as he stood, with 
 parted lips and clasped hands, behind the heavy curtains. 
 Bitterly he reproached himself for his conduct toward 
 the gentle girl, who had now so nobly defended his char- 
 acter, and ascribed to him traits he was deeply conscious 
 of not possessing. Sometimes he started forward, una- 
 ble longer to restrain himself from rushing into her pres- 
 ence, avowing his love, and claiming the right to protect 
 her ; but the very fervor and disinterestedness of his 
 affection restrained him, as he knew it would keenly 
 mortify her, and wound her delicacy, if she were made 
 aware of his being present. Still more difficult was it 
 to restrain himself, when, upon hearing a step in the 
 entry, Gertrude hastily retreated. He gently parted the 
 curtain, and saw her pale and trembling, and he dared 
 not expose her to the additional excitement if he should 
 suddenly appear. But he determined to see her without 
 delay, and to make a formal demand of her hand from 
 Mr. Stanley, her guardian. He did not feel at all sure 
 that she would accept him. The events of the last few 
 weeks had not increased the favorable prospect of a 
 happy termination of his suit; but, with a full resolution 
 to end his suspense as soon as possible, he was obliged 
 to content himself for the present, for Alice, after lying 
 so quietly for a few moments that he hoped she was 
 asleep, silently arose, and left the room. He dared not
 
 IN DISGUISE. 211 
 
 venture to catch a glimpse of her face, but he saw that 
 she walked feebly, and with her hand still holding her 
 side. 
 
 He lost not a moment in leaving his position, and, 
 avoiding the front of the house, went to the stable, sad- 
 dled his horse, and rode to the village. 
 
 It was well he had gone so soon, for Mrs. Stanley, 
 immediately after, entered the parlor in search of Alice, 
 advancing at once to the recess ; here she picked up 
 the book Clarence had let fall. Having failed to find 
 her below, she returned to her chamber, and found Alice 
 seated on a low stool, wearily resting her head upon the 
 cushioned chair. 
 
 " I am waiting for you, mamma," she said, looking up, 
 with a sad attempt to smile. 
 
 " And I have been in search of my daughter,*' replied 
 Mrs. Stanley, as she seated herself, and took the head of 
 Alice in her lap, caressingly putting back the curls from 
 her brow, and laying her cool hand upon the burning 
 temples. 
 
 " Come, my little Ally," she said, cheerfully, " what do 
 
 you say to a journey with me to N ? From there 
 
 we will go to my native place, just where we went with 
 dear little Louis." 
 
 "Oh, mamma!" murmured Alice, mournfully, while 
 hot tears forced their -way down her cheeks, " I would 
 like lo lie down by his side. My heart is sad and weary. 
 It seems a great while since I was a child ; bul oh, how 
 happy I was then ! I am tired of struggling wilh my self, 
 and trying to do right. I fear that even this ton-noon 1 
 have done wrong, and exhibited an unforgiving temper: 
 
 21
 
 242 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 but I was tried beyond my strength- and only this morn- 
 ing 1 enjoyed such a delightful season of communion 
 with my heavenly Father, and felt so i-'afe to leave 
 myself in his hands! I was willing to forgive every one 
 who had tried to injure me." 
 
 A low knock interrupted them, and Emma entered. 
 At a motion from her mother, she came and kneeled 
 down by her weeping sister, putting her arms tenderly 
 about her neck. Alice gently responded to her embrace, 
 and then continued: "I don't know but I am doing 
 wrong; but I cannot help envying Mrs. Hayden, who is 
 wasting away. She looks forward with a certain hope 
 of being received into the presence of God. I have 
 often thought of late that I should soon be called to die, 
 and the idea has not been unpleasant." 
 
 " My dear Alice," exclaimed her mother, " don't talk 
 so ; I fear it is wrong. I used to indulge the same wish 
 after my dear father was taken from me. I thought my 
 happiness had fled forever; and I longed to lie quietly 
 by his side rather than struggle with my poor, desolate 
 heart. I found out afterwards that I had been indulging 
 an unsubmissive spirit, and was rebelling against the 
 afflictions God, in his wisdom, saw to be needed by me. 
 I do not wonder, my love, that the world looks darkly to 
 you now; but, be assured, the clouds wi/1 |>ass away, 
 and I shall yet see you as cheerful and light of heart as 
 when you returned from school. t)o you remember how 
 gay you were then ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, mamma, but " 
 
 "No buts, miss," interrupted her mother, cheerfully,, 
 " there are no buts in this case. All will come out right
 
 IN DISGUISE. 243 
 
 depend upon it. One heavy cloud has already blown 
 over. Uncle Stephen is a stauncher friend than ever. 
 Suppose you go now and tell him you forgive him." 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 " In his own room, where he has shut himself up as a 
 prisoner. He has not left it since you fainted last even- 
 ing. Clarence said at breakfast that he did not go to 
 bed until morning." 
 
 Alice started up, saying, " I am sorry I did not know 
 it before. I will go now, if he will admit me." ,' She 
 turned to leave the room, but suddenly stopped, and, 
 grasping the hand of Mrs. Stanley, asked, in a voice 
 trembling with emotion, " Do you think I shall ever be 
 insane ? " 
 
 " Why, my child, what could have put such a question 
 into your mind ? " 
 
 " Ger Gertrude " she hesitated, and then added, 
 " rny mother was." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley shuddered at the horrible cruelty of such 
 a suggestion, and said, " There is no more danger of it 
 than in my case or Emma's." 
 
 After the poor girl had left the room, she told Emma 
 of her determination to put a stop to such a system of 
 persecution, blaming herself severely that it had not been 
 done earlier.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Oh, what a tangled web we weave, 
 When first we practise to deceive ! " Scott. 
 
 ALICE knocked several times at Uncle Stephen's door 
 before she received any reply. At length he asked, 
 Who is it ? " 
 
 " It is a little girl, who wants to see you." 
 
 " Well, then, come in." 
 
 She entered, and went up to him as she used to do 
 when a child, and seated herself upon his knee. 
 
 He made no motion, either to invite or prevent her. 
 
 She put her arms in a childlike manner around his 
 neck, and laid her head upon his shoulder, as she asked, 
 softly, " Don't you love your little girl ? I can't think 
 what I shall do if you don't love me." 
 
 With a deep sob from his swelling heart, the old man 
 strained her to his breast as if he would never let her 
 leave him. " Love you ? yes," he exclaimed, when he 
 could speak. " This is the first happy minute I've had 
 since I blurted out upon you yesterday. But will you 
 love me ? is the question I want to hear answered. Can 
 you forgive me, my child ? " 
 
 " I forgave you long ago ; I knew you would be sorry." 
 
 " Well, then, I'm all right. I feel as if my sister, who 
 has been dead and buried these twenty years, had come 
 back to me. And now, child, ask anything in the world 
 
 244
 
 T1IE HOrSKIIOLD ANGE1, IN DISGU1SK. 24-J 
 
 that it Is in my power to grant, and you shall have it, 
 even to the half of my kingdom." 
 
 " I don't want anything,'' she replied, laying her head 
 on his shoulder to hide the sadness that was beginning 
 again to steal over her, " but to have all my friends love 
 me as they used to do when I was a little girl. Oh ! " 
 she added, with a burst of feeling, " how I do long for 
 Louis ! " 
 
 " Well, I can't bring Louis back, and I wouldn't if I 
 could, for this world is a hard place to live in, and the 
 faster we get ourselves ready to go out of it the better, 
 I'm thinking. But what is it about this Maurice ? Is 
 he a good, trusty fellow ? If you say he is, I'll contrive 
 to bring it about so that you shall be married to him, 
 though I don't know but 'twill break my heart." 
 
 " You have been deceived, Uncle Stephen. Maurice 
 Jenks is nothing to me. Yesterday was the first time I 
 have seen him for years, and though the meeting was 
 far from pleasant to me, yet I can't understand why so 
 much should be made of it." 
 
 " Not love him !" and the excited old gentleman pushed 
 her off that he might look her in the face, " and no idea 
 of marrying him ! Why, Edifh said the reason you 
 went to Mrs. Hayden's so much was to meet him there, 
 and Gertrude told Clarence, a week ago, that you had 
 loved him from a child, when you went to school to- 
 gether." 
 
 i don't know what led her to think so; but of this I 
 am sure, that worlds would not tempt me to marry a 
 man of his character; and he has never given rne the 
 least reason to suppose that IK- wished me to do so." 
 21'
 
 246 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 The good man was so much agitated, he hardly knew 
 how to contain his feelings. He kissed Alice again and 
 again, thanked her repeatedly for the relief she had af- 
 forded him, and then commenced a vigorous walk across 
 the room, rubbing his hands and exclaiming: " What an 
 old fool I've V-- 1: :naking of myself; I might have known 
 you wouldn't go and spoil all my nice plans. There, 
 child, run away, quick ; I may say something I ought 
 not." 
 
 At dinner Mr. Stanley, noticing Alice's pale cheeks 
 and want of appetite, recommended her to ride. As he 
 left the room he turned back, and with unusual tender- 
 ness patted her cheek, saying : " Let me see some roses 
 blooming here, at tea." 
 
 How little he thought that he and Alice Carey should 
 never meet again ! 
 
 Though scarcely able to endure the fatigue, Alice con- 
 cluded to have Felix saddled, and to pay Mrs. Hayden a 
 visit. She was sensible of a general lassitude creeping 
 over her whole system, and it was with quite an effort 
 that she equipped herself in her riding-dress, and started 
 for the village. But in a few moments the clear air, and 
 .the exercise of riding, exhilarated her spirits, and when 
 nearly half way to her destination she met Dr. Jenks, she 
 began to look a little like herself. 
 
 " Good day, Miss Alice," he cried, stopping his horse , 
 " I am glad to see you, though you look as if a dose of 
 physic wouldn't do you any harm. I have found you 
 another patient, a young girl, about your own age. She's 
 been in my hands a few days ; but 1 think in her case 
 you can do better than I can."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 247 
 
 After learning where she was to be found, Alice said . 
 M I will try to call upon her to-morrow. I have not been 
 quite well for a few days, and hardly think I should do 
 her much good if I went to-day." 
 
 " No immediate hurry," replied the Doctor. " She's a 
 genuine case, though ; and such an one as will interest 
 you quite as much as either of your protege's." 
 
 An hour later, the family at Lindenwood were thrown 
 into the utmost consternation by seeing Felix, without 
 his rider, come dashing at full speed up the avenue, his 
 saddle partly turned, and he trembling in every limb, as 
 if from sudden fright. Uncle Stephen, who happened to 
 be looking from the window, was almost beside himself, 
 and greatly increased the confusion by his vain endeavors 
 to learn something of the equestrian. Mr. Stanley could 
 not readily be found, and his wife instantly despatched a 
 boy, on horseback, to the village, to ascertain whether any 
 accident had befallen Alice ; and if so, to go at once for 
 the Doctor. Emma started off in the same direction on 
 foot, while the coachman was ordered to harness the 
 horse into the carryall, and follow her immediately, to 
 bring Alice home. Uncle Stephen walked hurriedly up 
 and down the avenue ; Mrs. Stanley in vain imploring 
 him to be calm, and suggesting that it might not prove 
 to be as bad as they feared. Gertrude and Edith clung 
 together, in their affright, pale and trembling at their own 
 thoughts. 
 
 At length, the carriage is seen returning at full speed. 
 Their hearts beat wildly with hope. Alice is in it, and 
 uninjured. But no! Emma is bitterly weeping. She 
 cannot speak as they pass, but silently motions them
 
 248 THE HOUSEHOLD AXGF.L 
 
 to return. They hastily follow the carriage to the 
 house. 
 
 " Where is she ? " asked Mrs. Stanley, tremulously. 
 " Why did you not bring her home ? " 
 
 With a fresh burst of tears, Emma pointed to d wagon 
 just come in sight, and which was slowly entering tin- 
 large gate at the foot of the avenue. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley stood almost paralyzed, and then caught 
 hold of the door for support. She tried to speak, but 
 her tongue refused to perform its office. With a loud 
 cry of agony, Uncle Stephen rushed by them, and locked 
 himself in his own room. 
 
 Yes, there upon a bed thrown upon the bottom of a 
 wagon, from which the seat had been hastily taken out, 
 lay the senseless form of poor Alice Carey. Her head 
 was supported in the lap of a young woman, who was 
 weeping, while men and boys walked solemnly at their 
 side. 
 
 Before Mrs. Stanley could recall her scattered senses, 
 Dr. Jenks drove hastily up, and finding nothing had been 
 prepared, requested that a bed should be made ready as 
 speedily as possible, that he might see to what extent his 
 patient had been injured. 
 
 When the wagon stopped at the dooi, the Doctor, with 
 the assistance of two men, conveyed the insensible girl 
 to her room, and laid her gently upon the bed. A low 
 iiioan escaped her lips ; but she did not appear to be 
 conscious. Mrs. Stanley bent over her poor child, and 
 commenced a vigorous chafing of her hands, wln-n the 
 Doctor beckoned her from the room, motioning Emma 
 to take her mother's place.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 249 
 
 " Where is your husband ? " he asked, forcing himself 
 to be calm. 
 
 " We have not I i en able to find him. He went out 
 to walk after dinner." 
 
 " Well, madanij it is my painful duty to inform you 
 that this is a serious case. I fear some internal injury, 
 and I wish to send to the village for another physician 
 to assist me in the examination. I shall also need other 
 help." 
 
 " I shall not leave my child," faltered Mrs. Stanley, 
 trying to repress the tears which blinded her. 
 
 " Can you be calm ? Everything depends upon 
 that." 
 
 " I can," she replied, more firmly. " It is the sudden- 
 ness of the blow which has stunned me." 
 
 " Well, I shall need bandages and plenty of warm 
 water. I see her arm is broken. God grant there may 
 be nothing worse. Don't make too much effort to restore 
 her to consciousness, as she will be likely to suffer excru- 
 ciating pain under the examination. I will send a man 
 in my buggy for Dr. Mason. He is a better surgeon 
 than I am, young as he is, and the sooner he is here the 
 belter." 
 
 It seemed, however, to the waiting group around the 
 bed, a long, long time, before the young surgeon arrived. 
 brinrin<T \\ith him a formidable box of instruments. 
 
 O O * 
 
 which, from the exaggerated account he received, lie 
 thought might be necessary. 
 
 Dr. Jen'ks called him to the farther part, of the room, 
 and in a lo\v voice said a few words, when they returned 
 to the bed.
 
 250 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " Miss Emma," said the doctor, " yon had better leave 
 the room ; you can't bear it." 
 
 Emma shook her head, and tried to speak, but the 
 words " try me " were the only ones which she could 
 articulate. 
 
 " Well, then, hold her hand firmly ; and Mrs. Stanley, 
 if you must stay, though I had rather have somebody 
 else, come around this side and unfasten her dress." 
 
 Though excessively pale, she obeyed. The kind doc- 
 tor gently raised her, and soon the fair neck and shoulder 
 was exposed to view. 
 
 " This arm is broken in two places," said Dr. Mason. 
 " Have you the splinters ? " 
 
 A shriek of distress from the poor girl, as they moved 
 it, showed that she was not now insensible. 
 
 " Dear, darling Alice, be calm, do be calm ! " whispered 
 Emma, forcing back the unbidden tears which had been 
 coursing down her cheeks. " It will soon be over." But 
 shriek after shriek filled the air, as they set the bone, un- 
 til she again fainted from excess of agony. 
 
 " There, I'm glad she's gone ! " exclaimed Dr. Jenks, as 
 he held the arm in place, while the young surgeon, with 
 great skill, applied the bandages. When this was done, 
 they proceeded, under the influence of a powerful ano- 
 dyne, to a farther examination, which resulted more fa- 
 vorably than they had dared to hope. The poor sufferer 
 lay in a heavy slumber, when a loud noise in the Hall 
 arrested their attention. Above all sounds, the voice 
 of Mrs. Carey was distinctly heard, calling out, in fren- 
 zied tones, " I will go to her ! I wont be kept from my 
 child ! and you, Mr. Stanley, must follow me ! "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 251 
 
 " Don't let that crazy woman in here ! " exclaimed the 
 doctor. 
 
 " I hear my husband's voice, and he will prevent her," 
 said Mrs. Stanley. Suddenly there was a sound of great 
 running, the door burst open, and the poor mother rushed 
 in and threw herself on her knees by the side of the bed. 
 Dr. Jenks approached gently to lead her out ; but she 
 stood up before him, and, pointing with her long, thin 
 finger, to Alice, said solemnly, " God sent me here, and 
 here I shall stay until I have done what he bids me." 
 
 "How long will it take ?" asked Dr. Mason, impa- 
 tiently, as he kept his fingers on the pulse of his patient. 
 He knew nothing of the relation existing between them, 
 and wondered that the crazy woman should be allowed 
 to remain in the room for a moment. 
 
 " Mr. Stanley, come near ! " she cried, " for to you I 
 must make my confession ! " There was in her eye an 
 expression of calmness, which, notwithstanding her 
 strange manner, awed them into silence, and she went 
 on. " I am glad to see you weep, Mr. Stanley. You 
 may well gaze at the poor child, and shed tears at her 
 distress, for she is your own ! " 
 
 With a sudden start he sprang to the bedside ; but she 
 waived him away, and continued, in a firm voice, though 
 ,husky with emotion, " Hear, hear, all of you, while God 
 gives me strength to speak. That child was given me 
 to nurse. I kept her, and put my own daughter, Edith, 
 in her place. I didn't at first intend to have it remain so, 
 but I was pleased to see that my child was caressed, and 
 by and bye it was too late for me to take her back. But 
 I have known for a long time that this day would surely
 
 252 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 come that these words would be forced from my lips. 
 I have heard it in the sighing breeze, in the gurgling of 
 yonder brook, and in the howling of the angry wind 
 The robins in the branches, and even the frogs in the 
 meadow, have never ceased to remind me that this day 
 was hastening on. But of late, strange voices have whis- 
 pered to me in the night-watches, ' Guilty woman, your 
 sin will soon be discovered.' I have often tried to con- 
 fess to you, but 'I was restrained. < Not yet, not yet,' 
 was ever the cry, and 1 could not resist the inward 
 voice." 
 
 When she ceased, all present, stood speechless, until 
 Dr. Jenks asked, " What proof have you of the truth of 
 this story ? " though her declaration had flashed instant 
 conviction upon their minds. 
 
 " Proof! " she cried, with a flashing eye, " her father 
 needs no proof! He knows, now, why the sight of that 
 child always reminded him of the mother who bore her. 
 He understands why that mother loved her so tenderly. 
 Her heart was drawn out toward her own offspring. He 
 knows why she and Louis loved each other so dearly. 
 If you want more proof, ask Uncle Stephen," glancing 
 toward him. " He will tell you he always knew it. He 
 has said a hundred times, ' That child reminds me of my 
 sister.' But, if all that will not satisfy you, in what one. 
 thing is she like me ? Look at her, beautiful even in her 
 death-like slumber. Then her heart is pure, while Edith 
 
 Dr. Jenks," she continued, after a moment, catching 
 
 hold of his arm, " do you remember when this child wag 
 born ? " 
 
 The doctor nodded assent, wondering what was to 
 follow.
 
 IN DISGUISE. * 25vt 
 
 " Had she any mark, by which to distinguish her ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied, either she or Emma had a large 
 brown spot, like a bean, upon her back, just below the 
 shoulder-blade." 
 
 " I have often noticed it when I have dressed her," 
 gasped Mrs. Stanley, while her husband rushed from the 
 room, and locked himself in his chamber. 
 
 All this passed much more quickly than it can be re- 
 lated, and now Mrs. Carey, no longer the mother of 
 Alice, was easily persuaded to return home, while the 
 physicians, after congratulating the parents upon the un- 
 expected discovery, retired to consult and to appoint the 
 time for a still more thorough investigation of her case 
 on the morrow. 
 
 The lovely young girl still lay under the influence of 
 the anodyne, which had been administered when she first 
 began to recover her consciousness. Dr. Jenks ordered 
 another powder when she awoke, and promised to call in 
 again late in the evening, and make arrangements for the 
 night. " I shall bring Nurse Green with me," he added, 
 as he was leaving the room ; but Mrs. Stanley was firm 
 in refusing to leave her child. With what a loving tone 
 she now repeated the blessed words, " my child." 
 
 When the good man went down stairs, Mr. Stanley 
 came out of his study, and beckoned him within. " Will 
 she live ? " he asked, forcing himself to speak with some 
 degree of calmness. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I hope so," replied the doctor, cheerfully. 
 " We have yet found no other injury except a broken 
 arm, and, under the skilful treatment of Dr. Mason, that 
 \vill be as strong as ever in a couple of months." 
 22
 
 254 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " May God grant it," said the father, impressively 
 u Have you heard how the accident happened ? " 
 
 " Nothing beyond the story of the boy who came for 
 me, that the horse took fright and threw her. She 
 was found in the street turning from the one where Mrs. 
 Hayden lives, and probably had just left there. I must 
 call and tell them how she is, or I shall have trouble. 
 Indeed," added the good man, smiling, as he turned to 
 take his leave, " I shall be very popular for a few days, 
 and shall be besieged with inquiries concerning the 
 health of your daughter. She is a great favorite in the 
 village." 
 
 Mr. Stanley warmly pressed his hand, but did not re- 
 ply. His heart was too full for utterance. 
 
 In the meantime how did Edith bear the sudden 
 change which had come over her prospects? No one 
 knew. She and Gertrude had been among the crowd 
 assembled in the entry, and at the very first intimation 
 of the fact from her mother, she flew to her own room, 
 and locked her door, and when Gertrude knocked repeat- 
 edly, she received no answer. She instinctively knew 
 it was true. Poor girl ! it will be a hard lesson for her 
 to learn. Let us leave her and turn to a room nearly 
 opposite that in which the father and mother are hang- 
 ing over their new-found child, and discover what are 
 Uncle Stephen's thoughts with reference to this new re- 
 lation. 
 
 When, in an agony of grief, he shut himself up in his 
 bedroom, he feared the life of Alice was extinct ; but, 
 after remaining alone until he could endure the suspense 
 no longer, he opened his door, and learned from one of
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 he servants that she still lived. He stood in the hall 
 ,vhen Mrs. Carey, noticing his presence, referred to him 
 as proof that he had long recognized the relation. Then, 
 unable to bear the tumult of joy caused by so happy a 
 discovery, he caught his hat ancl rushed out to find Clar- 
 ence, that he might impart the blessed news to him. But 
 he had hardly proceeded through the park, when he saw, 
 in the distance, a horse dashing toward him, and in the 
 rider of which he soon recognized his ward. 
 
 Restless and unable to fix his attention upon his busi- 
 ness, after the exciting scenes of the morning, at an early 
 hour Clarence went to the stable for his horse, that he 
 might return to Lindenwood. He walked on with quick 
 and elastic step, for, notwithstanding all which had oc- 
 curred, his heart was lighter than for many weeks. He 
 could now trace the cause of Alice's reserve in the cruel 
 remarks to which she had been subjected, a specimen of 
 which he had heard in the morning ; and in her noble 
 vindication of him, he loved to think he had discovered 
 some sparks of affection, which it would be his delight- 
 ful privilege to fan into a flame. He determined at once 
 to see her guardian, and, by the avowal of his affection, 
 preclude the necessity of the explanation which he fore- 
 saw would be so trying to her sensitive nature. His eye 
 grew bright, and his whole countenance beamed with 
 pleasant anticipations as he hurried on, until his atten- 
 tion was arrested by seeing groups of men, women, and 
 boys standing together, and heard the words " dreadful! 
 wnat a shocking accident !" Pausing for one moment 
 to listen, the name " Miss Carey " caught his ear, when, 
 with a countenance blanched with sudden fear, he
 
 256 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 stepped quickly forward, and asked, " What has oc- 
 curred ? " 
 
 A boy replied, " Why, hav'n't you heard ? Miss Alice 
 Carey, the young lady who rides every day on horseback, 
 and who is <<o good to tfce poor, has been thrown from 
 her horse, and killed ! " 
 
 " Killed ? " repeated Clarence, reeling against the man 
 who stood next him. 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed a boy, pressing up through the 
 crowd which . had begun to gather, " I was there when 
 they took her out of the wagon, and I heard her groan 
 awfully. She isn't killed, but she's horridly hurt." 
 
 Though rendered almost blind by sudden faintness and 
 dizziness, Clarence waited to hear no more. He sprang 
 upon his horse, and, after urging him to his utmost speed, 
 slackened not his pace until he met his guardian coming 
 in search of him. The old gentleman was evidently con- 
 tending with mixed emotions of sorrow and joy, and, as 
 his ward sprang from the saddle to his side, caught his 
 hand, and said, " Clarence, Alice Carey is no more ; but 
 I have found a niece I shall love even better than I did 
 her." 
 
 " The shock has turned his brain," thought the young 
 man. " Come, dear Uncle," he said, tenderly, " let me 
 lead you to the house." " Alice ! where is Alice ? " he 
 gasped out, as Emma ran out to meet him. 
 
 " Oh, Clarence ! rejoice with us. Alice, dear, sweet 
 Alice is ours now. She is my own dear sister." 
 
 Scarcely hearing or heeding this remark, he repeated, 
 " Where is she ? Will she live ? " 
 
 " The doctors cannot tell until to-morrow, but they
 
 IN DISGUISE. ZO/ 
 
 hope now there is no more serious injury than ner broken 
 arm." 
 
 The young lawyer breathed more freely, and, tying hi? 
 horse at the post, he accompanied Emma to the parlor, 
 where he heard from her a full account of what had oc- 
 curred. 
 
 Not once did he interrupt her, but his compressed lips, 
 from which every trace of color had vanished, and the 
 eagerness with which he caught her words, proved to his 
 companion his sympathy with the poor sufferer. 
 
 " Won't it be delightful to have such a sister 1 " asked 
 Emma, anxious to turn from the gloomy side of the pic- 
 ture. " I never knew until now how much, how very 
 much, I loved her." 
 
 " If she lives," he faltered, his voice tremulous with 
 suppressed emotion. At that moment her father entered, 
 and Uncle Stephen stepped eagerly forward, and caught 
 him by the hand. 
 
 " Thank you," responded Mr. Stanley, " for your love 
 to my beloved child. I cannot see how I could have 
 been so blind. Every feature resembles my deceased 
 Emma ; but no more than her lovely character. You 
 and her mother have better appreciated her worth. This 
 will form a new tie between us. Clarence," called he, 
 turning toward him, as he leaned against the mantel- 
 piece, concealing his face with his hat, " I wish you 
 would go over and see what has become of Mrs. Carey. 
 Some one ought to stay with her and watch her closely. 
 Stay," he added, as he noticed his pale, haggard expres- 
 sion, " you are not well." A sudden thought flashed 
 through his mind. " Don't think I blame you for what 
 22*
 
 258 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 occurred last evening. That will all come out light, auu 
 my Alice is not one to lay up anything against her 
 Mends." 
 
 These words, though kindly spoken, afforded him but 
 poor consolation. He bowed his thanks, however, and 
 wont out to Mrs. Carey's small cottage. But he only 
 saw the woman who took care of her, who informed him 
 that she came home from the hall trembling and excited, 
 but in full possession of her reason. That she appeared 
 very glad that she had relieved herself of the dreadful 
 burden that had oppressed her for so many years ; but 
 that she dreaded to meet Edith, as she knew her child 
 would bitterly reproach her. " I promised her," added 
 the woman, " that if she would retire, no one should dis- 
 turb her." 
 
 4 At the mention of Edith, Clarence started. He had 
 been so wholly engrossed in his anxiety for Alice, that 
 the change in the situation of her foster-sister had not 
 once occurred to him. " How would her proud and 
 haughty spirit bear so sudden a reverse of fortune ? " H 
 was a fruitful subject of thought, and one which occupied 
 the people of the village for a long time. But at present 
 his whole soul was racked with anxiety for the poor girl 
 who still lay insensible. He had not yet asked himself 
 what would be the effect upon his suit for her hand, of 
 ler being raised to the station of daughter to Mr. Stan- 
 ey ; he could only think of her as Emma had vividly 
 epresented her when suffering so keenly from the setting 
 of her arm. 
 
 He walked slowly back and forth through the yard, 
 until summoned by a servant to tea. Though the hearta
 
 IN DISGUISE. 2*59 
 
 of all the group gathered around the board were centred 
 upon one dear member, yet it was a silent meal. Indeed, 
 the assembling there was little more than a form, and 
 then there were three absent. The mother, with h>? 
 child, and Edith, who still refused admittance to alJ
 
 CHAPTER XX11 
 
 " Happy arc those, 
 
 That knowing in their births they are subject to 
 Uncertain change, are still prepar'd and arm'd 
 For either fortune; a rare principle, 
 And with much labor learned in wisdom's school." 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 WHAT a change in a few short hours! They could 
 hardly realize it ; and when Mr. Stanley's swelling heart 
 found utterance in prayer for her who had brought back 
 from the grave the image of her deceased mother for 
 her who had been so wonderfully preserved from death, 
 the whole family wept aloud. 
 
 During the evening, to which Clarence had looked for- 
 ward with such joyous anticipations, as he and his 
 guardian were sitting silently in the parlor, Emma came 
 to the door and beckoned him to join her. " Do you re- 
 member my own mother ? " she inquired, softly. 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " Father thought so, and he wants you to come and 
 Jook at oui poor Alice. She is not yet conscious," she 
 added, as he instinctively started back. 
 
 Though his heart grew faint with an undefined feeling 
 of terror, he silently followed her. 
 
 Her father was leaning over the pallid face of his child, 
 and bathing her temples with aromatic vinegar. For 
 years he had been unused to the sick room ; but this was 
 
 260
 
 IN DISGUISE. 261 
 
 an office he would resign to no other. He looked up, as 
 the young man entered, and beckoned him to his side. 
 There she lay, the object of his purest, deepest affections, 
 pale and motionless as marble, save only now and then 
 a slight contraction of the brow, as if she were suffering. 
 He gazed and gazed, as if his whole soul were concen- 
 trated in that one absorbing, fixed look. Her curls, moist- 
 ened by the vinegar, w%re pushed back, revealing fully 
 the broad brow, which generally was partly concealed ; 
 the blue veins were distinctly marked under the transpa- 
 rent skin, while the dark, curling eyelashes, as they lay 
 upon her cheek, were all that relieved the marble white- 
 ness. 
 
 Mr. Stanley pointed to the small mouth, and whis- 
 pered, " Blind, blind, indeed I've been ! How like her 
 mother ! 
 
 If the young man heard, he made no reply, and Em- 
 ma was obliged to touch his arm repeatedly before she 
 could make him understand it was time for him to leave 
 the room. What reflections upon the past, what resolu- 
 tions for the future, were crowded into those brief mo- 
 ments, God only knew. But Clarence, in after years, 
 acknowledged that life and death never before appeared 
 to him in their true relation to each other; that whi'e 
 gazing upon her fair face, and remembering the early 
 piety by which she had dedicated herself to the service 
 of her Maker, the consistent, useful life she had led, and 
 the certainty, in the event of her death, of her going to 
 her Saviour, he realized that, 
 
 " It is not all of life to live, 
 Nor all of death to die."
 
 262 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 When Emma opened the door into the entry, she 
 found Uncle Stephen there, waiting to ascertain whether 
 there was any favorable change. Mrs. Stanley silently 
 advanced, and led him to the bed. 
 
 But the sight he there beheld was more than he could 
 endure. With only one glance at the long frame in 
 which lay the broken arm, and at the pale face, which 
 seemed like a visitor from the spirit-world, he covered his 
 eyes and hurried from the room. 
 
 After the first shock, w T hen he feared she had been 
 killed by her fall, he had been so overjoyed at being able 
 to explain to himself why his heart had been so forcibly 
 drawn toward the lovely child ; and to solve the question 
 so many times repeated, " Why does she so often remind 
 me of my sister," that he had thought letis of the danger 
 which still threatened her life. But now it was greatly 
 magnified, and he could find no comfort except upon his 
 knees. Oh, how many times, that night, he thanked God 
 that this had not happened before she had assured him 
 of her forgiveness ! How clearly her sweet voice rang 
 in his ear, " Don't you love your little girl ? " 
 
 At nine o'clock the Doctor came again, and was 
 pleased to see that there was then no appearance of 
 tever, and ordered her lips to be wet with cordial every 
 fifteen minutes. Unless the pain was very severe, the 
 anodyne was to be discontinued. He prescribed the 
 most perfect quiet, and left them with lightened hearts to 
 prepare for the duties of the night. 
 
 What a comfort is a good physician ! How earnestly 
 do we listen for his footstep, and welcome his approach! 
 How closely we watch his features to discern hh
 
 IN DISGUISE. 263 
 
 opinion of his patient, before he can have time to express 
 it in words ! How grateful do we feel for the hope \vith 
 which he brightens the future, or for the sympathy which 
 soothes our most fearful anticipations of sorrow! 
 
 After the good Doctor left, Mr. Stanley retired for a 
 few moments to his study, to be alone with his God, ami 
 to pour out his soul in prayer for his child. He had just 
 arisen, when he heard a low knock at his door. He 
 started quickly, fearing it was a message for him to re- 
 turn to Alice, when Gertrude entered. In a voice almost 
 inarticulate, she signified her desire to detain him. But 
 when he tenderly led her to the sofa, and took a seat by 
 her side, he waited in vain for her to speak, so violenl 
 were her sobs. 
 
 At length, making a great effort, she commanded hei 
 voice, and confessed to her father her cruelty to Alice, 
 and the bitter remorse it now caused her : " No words 
 can describe," she exclaimed, with great excitement, 
 " what I have suffered since I saw her lying motionless 
 in the wagon which brought her home." 
 
 Gertrude did not spare herself, but went on to speak 
 of cruel taunts about her birth, of hints' of her depend- 
 ance, and all the long catalogue of her offences, just as 
 conscience was holding them up to her view ; but of 
 which her father had been wholly ignorant. He was 
 obliged to put a violent constraint upon his feelings to 
 allow her to proceed. 
 
 " And Edith ? " lie asked when she stopped. 
 Gertrude acknowledged that Edith had joined her in this 
 unkind treatment ; but that she herself had been far 
 more to blame. " And this is not ah 1 ," she continued,
 
 264 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 covering her face from her father's searching glance, 
 " Clarence loves Alice ; and I have tried to alienate his 
 affections from her ; I have" but here she was entirely 
 overcome, as her mind reverted to the scenes which had 
 occurred that very morning, though it seemed as if the 
 events of weeks had intervened. 
 
 Mr. Stanley perceived that the grief of his daughter 
 was genuine, her repentance sincere, and he forbore 
 reproof. After a few moments of earnest conversation, 
 he again knelt in prayer ; and this time he was not alone ; 
 his subdued and tearful daughter knelt beside him, and 
 never before had she so earnestly joined in petitions for 
 pardon and peace. Before she left the room, she gave 
 the best proof of the sincerity of her sorrow for what 
 had passed, by requesting her father to communicate to 
 Clarence as much of her confession as he thought best ; 
 and her father, though deeply afflicted at the disclosures 
 she had made, held her to his heart in a more tender em- 
 brace than for many years. 
 
 For a short time after she left the study, he walked in 
 a slow measured pace across the floor, pondering what 
 had passed, especially what she had said of Clarence and 
 his affection for Alice. He had never suspected this ; and, 
 even now, he shook his head as his thoughts recurred 
 to many events which had taken place within a few 
 weeks. He had long ago settled it in his own mind, 
 that Gertrude and Clarence were attached, and the 
 thought of their union had always been pleasant. His 
 wife being fully aware of this, had never mentioned the 
 change she had perceived in the affections 01 the young 
 lawyer.
 
 IN DISGUFSF-. 
 
 Th^n came the thought of Edith. He could not but 
 acknowledge that the late discovery was a blessed one to 
 him. The character of Edith, haughty and self-willea, 
 he had never fully understood. No one of his children 
 had ever caused him half the anxiety, while toward hi? 
 beautiful, loving, pure-minded Alice his heart had always 
 warmed in a most fatherly manner. How vividly he re 
 called the earnest, beseeching tones of his wife, as she 
 lay raised in bed, only a few hours before she breatheu 
 her last. There were Gertrude, Emma, and Edith, and 
 there, too, sitting upon the lap of Nurse Carey, the little 
 Alice. When the dying woman had spoken a few words 
 to each of the former, she raised her eyes to him, and 
 said: "My dear husband, I want you to promise me 
 that this little one" feebly taking the hand of the 
 weeping child " shall remain here, and be educated 
 with ours, to be treated as if she were our own." How 
 well he now remembered the overpowering emotion of 
 the Nurse, as he solemnly promised compliance with her 
 \vi>hes ; an emotion which, at the time, all had attributed 
 to sorrow at the loss of her kind mistress, who had been 
 to her and hers so true a friend. He now perceived in 
 her wish, the overruling hand of a kind Providence, that 
 his child might be placed in circumstances fitting her for 
 the denouement which had taken place. 
 
 Siill, while his heart was overflowing with tenderness 
 toward his long lost child, and yearning over her in her 
 weakness, with irrepressible love, he also felt a strong 
 alleciion toward the mature and beautiful girl, who had 
 /or so many years called him lather. Not one thought 
 ot the grea< sin of the mother hardened his heart toward 
 
 83
 
 266 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 the child. No, he was impelled by a knowledge of hei 
 character to strong emotions of pity at the sufferings he 
 knew she would undergo, before she could bring her 
 proud spirit to bow submissively to the condition she had 
 so much despised. 
 
 Educated, as she had been, in refined society, accus- 
 tomed to consult only her own pleasure, while she domi- 
 neered over every member of the household, he was well 
 aware that, when he offered her a home, there would be 
 a dreadful struggle in her mind, before she could bring 
 herself to assume the place of a dependant on his bounty. 
 He longed to see her, and try to calm the deep waves of 
 trouble which threatened to overwhelm her ; but so far, 
 she had absolutely refused to admit any one to her apart- 
 ment, and had maintained a profound silence, when her 
 mother went to her, and begged her to take some food. 
 
 Alice remained so quiet for several hours that her 
 father and mother, who occupied arm-chairs by the side 
 of her bed, were able to get some sleep. But toward 
 morning, when Clarence, hoping from the profound still- 
 ness in the room, that the patient was at least not suffer- 
 ing, had just retired to his bed and fallen into a heavy 
 sleep, was awakened by a dreadful shriek, followed by a 
 quick running to and' fro through the hall. He sprang 
 up, threw on his dressing-gown, and returned to the 
 place he had occupied most of the night, near the door 
 of his own room. In one moment Emma came running 
 by, and seeing him dressed, said, quickly, " Oh, Clarence, 
 do run and call James, and send him for the Doctor! 
 Alice is a great deal worse." 
 
 He went in a moment, and running to the stable, took
 
 IN DISGUISE. 261 
 
 out his own horse, sprang into the saddle, and gave him- 
 self no time to think, until he was returning with the good 
 Doctor by his side. For once the old buggy rattled along 
 as fast as he could wish, and before the anxious paients 
 could have supposed it possible, Dr. Jenks entered the 
 room. 
 
 At one glance, he saw the danger. Alice had just 
 come out of a convulsion fit, in which she had disar- 
 ranged the, bandages and splinters holding the bone in 
 place ; and now, though conscious, lay pale and trem- 
 bling with the pain. The physician had no sooner ap- 
 proached the bed than, without speaking, he returned to 
 the entry and said, in a low voice, to Clarence, " We 
 must have Dr. Mason here, without any delay. Stay," 
 he added, as the young man had already begun to de- 
 dccnd the stairs, " take my buggy, and don't fear for the 
 old horse. I want him quickly." 
 
 For many miles around, Dr. Jenks was famous for his 
 skill. He was prompt, energetic, and always cheerful. 
 It was a very unusual thing for him to weep over his 
 patients ; but when he approached the bed, and saw by 
 her faint smile that Alice recognized and welcomed him, 
 he turned quickly away, while a sound very much like a 
 suppressed sob, came from the window near which he 
 stood. But that was over in a minute, and he made in- 
 quiries how she had passed the night. 
 
 " We must prevent the return of the convulsions," he 
 said, in a low tone, "they're ugly things where a bone is 
 out of place." He did not think it necessary at that 
 time to distress the father's heart by saying that he 
 feared, also, they were the result of some greater injury.
 
 268 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 He therefore administered a soothing powder, tenderly 
 unloosed the bandages, hoping by that time Dr. Mason 
 would arrive. Nor was he disappointed, for hearing a 
 quick step up the stairs, the young surgeon hastily en- 
 tered the room. 
 
 " There, dear," said the old Doctor, soothingly, " Jet 
 your father hold your arm. It will hurt badly for a 
 minute ; but 'twill soon be over. Here, Mrs. Stanley, 
 this side, if you please. Now, Dr. Mason, we're all 
 ready." 
 
 The bone slipped back again with a grating sound, 
 and the poor girl quickly gasped for breath. 
 
 Though the physicians agreed that it must have been 
 more painful than the first setting, as it had begun to 
 swell badly ; yet she bore it without a groan. Emma 
 sprang for the cordial, and moistened her lips. 
 
 " There now," said the good old man, "that was hand- 
 somely done ; but, child, don't ever try to restrain your- 
 self so again; let the screams come, they're nature, 
 and wont hurt any body ; not half as much as it will 
 you to hold the teeth so tightly as you did." 
 
 By this time the surgeon had nicely supported the arm 
 in a frame, and the gentle sufferer rejoiced their hearts 
 by whispering that she was greatly relieved. Quite a 
 circle had gathered around her bed, and Clarence, almost 
 unconsciously, had joined them. Alice was now per- 
 fectly conscious. She looked, feebly, from one to an- 
 other ; at length, her eye met his, and that one glance 
 conveyed to her a world of bliss. It was too much of 
 happiness for her feeble frame. She closed her eyes and 
 for a moment appeared to have fainted.
 
 IN DISGUISE. i2G9 
 
 Dr. Jenks, who was closely watching her, noticed the 
 effect of the glance without understanding the cause. 
 " Bear away there, young man," he said, in a low voice 
 "the sight of your haggard, cadaverous face is enough 
 to frighten well persons, let alone the sick." 
 
 All turned to Clarence, whose appearance did indeed 
 justify the doctor's description. His eyes were sunken, 
 and there was a dreadful pallor about his mouth. He 
 left the room ; and the physician followed him, saying, 
 " Here, young man, let's try your pulse." 
 
 " No," said Clarence, withdrawing his arm ; " it's only 
 the loss of sleep. I have had none for forty-eight hours." 
 
 " Why, then, in the name of common sense, don't 
 you go to bed ? It's lucky the loss of a few hours' sleep 
 don't affect me so." 
 
 The whirling, dizzy feeling in his head warned Clar- 
 ence that he had better take this advice ; and, throwing 
 himself upon his couch, he slept until near noon, when 
 Uncle Stephen gayly informed him, that, under the influ- 
 ence of morphine, a thorough examination had taken 
 place, and the physicians were agreed in the opinion that 
 she had sustained no internal injury. The good old man, 
 to whom tears were the most natural expression both of 
 his joy and sorrow, sobbed as he concluded : " It's 'most 
 too good news for an old sinner like me." While his 
 ward was dressing, he stepped to and fro around the 
 room, passing him his cravat and slippers, or stooping to 
 pick up the brush which had fallen to the floor. If his 
 heart had not been occupied, Clarence could hardly have 
 suppressed a smile at this unusual attention. But Unclt; 
 23*
 
 270 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Stephen was happy, and needed to do something out of 
 the common course to express his joy. 
 
 When the lawyer finished his toilet, and went below, 
 he found all was indeed changed ; though the family am 1 
 servants spoke in subdued tones, yet the deep sadness 
 was gone. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley almost smiled as thej' 
 met him, while Emma appeared as if she could hardly 
 contain her joy. She gave her hand twice to Clarence 
 without being aware of it, as she whispered, " I'm so 
 happy that it's over, and we know the worst, dear, dear 
 Alice ! " 
 
 While they were talking, Gertrude came to the door, 
 and then silently retreated upon perceiving who were 
 present. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Emma, " you can't tell how sorry 
 sister is. She has confessed everything to father ; and 
 he says, though it was a great shock to him, to know 
 that she had indulged such feelings, yet he hopes much 
 from this affliction. She told him how she had deceived 
 you," she added, lowering her voice. " She took all the 
 blame, and said she had influenced Edith. Poor Edith ! " 
 she continued, changing her tone, " mamma fears she'll 
 starve herself to death, and papa will insist upon going 
 in to talk with her." 
 
 How Dr. Jenks contrived to satisfy his other patients, 
 I cannot tell ; but, for a few days, his visits at Linden- 
 wood were neither few nor short ; and his cheerful voice 
 and ready joke operated like a charm upon all. 
 
 Alice loved him better than eve- and she frankly told 
 him so; upon which occasion the good man helped him- 
 to a kiss upon her pale cheek, and told over, to the
 
 IN' DISC VISE. 271 
 
 amusement of the whole company, the story of her 
 refusing him a kiss when he asked for one, and then 
 coming to him of her own accord, when she found he 
 did not mean to insist. " Oh ! " said he, " if I'd had the 
 experience when I was young that 1 have now, ther* 
 would have been some cracking." 
 
 The only bad result of his frequent visits was a feeling 
 of jealousy which was growing up in Uncle Stephen's 
 heart toward the physician, though, if any one had 
 accused him of it, he would have scorned the idea that 
 Alice would love the jolly old man as well as she did 
 him. 
 
 But the young girl esteemed her physician for some- 
 thing more than his cheerful, happy temperament, or 
 even for his skill. A more enduring tie united them. 
 He had long recognized in the young disciple a desire to 
 follow the example of the same Master whom he was 
 trying to serve. Never, in the course of his long practice, 
 had he turned a deaf ear to the call of the poor. He 
 recognized, in all the suffering children of distress and 
 poverty, a claim to his time and attention, as creatures 
 endowed with souls to be fitted for happiness; and he 
 literally obeyed the inspired precept, " Do good unto all 
 as ye have opportunity, especially unto such as are of 
 the household of faith." 
 
 And his young patient was comforted by the words 
 of peace he breathed in her ear as he tenderly bent over 
 her. " There, dear," he said at one time, when she was 
 Buffering severely, "think of what your heavenly Father 
 says, ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose souJ 
 is stayed on thee. Lift up your heart to him, child."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 44 The heart is, like the sky, a part of heaven, 
 
 But changes, night and day, too, like the sky ; 
 Now o'er it clouds and thunder must be driven, 
 
 And darkness and destruction, as on high; 
 But when it hath been scorch'd, and pien'd, and riven, 
 
 Its storms expire in water-drops ; the eye 
 Pours forth at last the heart's blood turned to tears." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 THE numerous calls from the village to make inquiries 
 for Miss Alice Stanley proved the truth of the doctor's 
 statement in regard to the estimation in which she was 
 held. Not only carriage after carriage, containing friends 
 anxious to ascertain exactly her situation, drove up the 
 avenue to the Hall, but twice a day, morning and even- 
 ing, Dexter Hayden presented himself at the door, and 
 in a respectful manner, said, " Will you please to tell me 
 particularly how Miss Alice is ? " and when the reply, 
 " She still continues comfortable," had been given him, 
 the fervent. "Thank you!" showed that his heart had 
 been in the question. 
 
 Mr. Gates, too, often left his welding and hammering 
 at an early hour, and, having donned his Sunday suit, 
 (for he now attended church on the Sabbath,) proceeded 
 to Linden wood, and begged to hear from Miss Alice, 
 saying, " My wife or J should take it as a great favor if 
 we could be allowed to be of some service to her." 
 
 272
 
 TIIK HOI .SF.HOLD ANGEL IN DISGViSK. 
 
 On the* third day after the sad accident, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Stanley were surprised, as they went up from dinner, to 
 see Nurse Carey-sitting by the side of their patient as 
 composedly as if she had always retained that plane. 
 There was a quiet smile around her mouth, and a look 
 of calm content in her eye which Marion had never 
 before seen. Unobserved by Alice, she cast an imploring 
 glance upon the father, who saw the wisdom of allowing 
 her to remain. 
 
 The young girl was yet unacquainted with the change 
 which had come over her prospects. The names " Fa- 
 ther" and " Mother" had become so familiar to her that 
 she did not notice how spontaneously the response, " My 
 child," flowed from that father's lips. She did, indeed, 
 think he exhibited toward her a father's tenderness; and 
 the artless, earnest tone in which she uttered her thanks 
 rendered it at times almost impossible for hiri to refrain 
 from telling her she was his own. 
 
 The appearance of her mother she would naturally 
 expect, and, indeed, her skill at nursing rendered her a 
 real treasure. With the divulging of the secret which 
 had preyed upon her conscience for so many years, she 
 had thrown away all the reserve and gloom which, even 
 during her seasons of returning reason, had shrouded 
 her like a thick veil; and now, being assured by Mr. 
 Stanley of his entire forgiveness, she acknowledged that 
 if she could conquer the fear of her daughter, whom she 
 had not seen since their relation had been made known 
 to her, she should be the happiest person living. 
 
 In free conversation with Mrs. Stanley, she confessed 
 the reason for her strange conduct toward Alice, which
 
 274 TIIK HOUSEHOLD ANGKI. 
 
 had heretofore appeared so unaccountable. Knowing 
 herself to be unfit to influence a pure, artless girl like 
 the one whom she claimed for her child, she had endeav- 
 ored, especially since the interest manifested in her by 
 that lady, to wean Alice's affections from herself, thai 
 sne might learn to live wholly at the Hall, and thus be 
 prepared for the time when the present discovery shoulc 
 take place. 
 
 But it is high time that we turn from this pleasanter 
 scene to a room at the other corner of the house, far, 
 far pleasanter and brighter, even amidst constant suffer- 
 ing, than that one within whose walls was raging a 
 mighty war. I have heretofore said that Edith refused 
 to admit any one to her apartment. Whether it were 
 the voice of him whom she had so long known as father, 
 or the lowest servant in the establishment, for all had 
 attempted it, the success was the same. On the second 
 day a small portion of the food which had been left at 
 her door had disappeared ; and during the second night 
 Mrs. Stanley from her window had seen a tall form pass 
 and repass. with hasty and uncertain steps, up and down 
 thti avenue before the house. But on the morning of 
 the third day no one had seen Edith face to face. What 
 course she intended or wished to pursue no one could 
 even imagine. Mr. Stanley determined to wait no longer. 
 Retiring to his study, he wrote her a long, kind letter, 
 such as a Christian father would write to an afflicte i 
 child. In it he expressed a fond affection for her, an 1 
 entreated her to return to the family, who all longed f >r 
 an opportunity to prove to her that she was welcome to 
 the place she had held. He told her that he had fully
 
 IN DISGUISE. 6ti) 
 
 and freely forgiven her mother, and that he now trans- 
 ferred the promise he made to his dying wife in behalf 
 of Alice, to herself. He closed by expressing the hope 
 that he might receive an answer in person, arid then 
 subjoined these words : 
 
 " I take pleasure, dear Edith, in signing myself, as of 
 old, Your very affectionate father, 
 
 HUGH STANLEY." 
 
 Wishing that the letter should suggest all the feelings 
 of his heart, he showed it to his wife, who read it with 
 tearful eyes, and rewarded him with a smile of perfect 
 approbation, as she said, " The heart must be indeed 
 hard which responds not to such an appeal." It was 
 then sent to her room by a servant, who was ordered, if 
 she did not reply, to push the letter under the door, and 
 to tell Edith she had been directed to wait for an answer. 
 The latter course she pursued, after knocking repeatedly, 
 and, on returning half an hour later, found a sealed 
 note addressed to Mr. Hugh Stanley, Esq. It was as 
 follows : 
 
 " Mr. Stanley, I have read your note, and suppose 1 
 ought to say I thank you for it; but you never loved me, 
 and I cannot say that I have ever given you reason t<> 
 do so. Still, I thank you that, by giving rne a good 
 education, yon have placed it in my power to gain my 
 bread independently of any one. I have not yet decided 
 what I shall do. When I have, you .-hall be the firs* 
 one informed of it, from the interest yon say you tidie w
 
 276 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 my welfare. Till that time, I only ask that 1 may have 
 the use of the room I now occupy, undisturbed. 
 
 "As for the woman who claims to have given, me 
 birth, her conduct has been such that / cannot forgive 
 her, if you do ; and, as I will never consent to take her 
 name, and the one to which I have been accustomed has 
 been rudely taken from me, I am at present nameless, 
 except EDITH." 
 
 Mr. Stanley had impatiently awaited the answer to 
 his kind epistle ; and, when his wife, who had taken it 
 from the servant, hastened to put it into his hand, he 
 opened it eagerly, hoping, though she had not complied 
 with his request to come to him, yet that she had re- 
 sponded to his sentiments with childlike affection. But, 
 when he had read and re-read the cold, bitter reply, he 
 sighed as he placed it, without a word, in the hand of 
 his wife. 
 
 Marion's eyes rilled with tears as she perused its 
 contents. " Poor, poor Edith ! " she exclaimed. " She 
 is her own greatest enemy. How differently our dear 
 Alice would have replied ! " 
 
 " Edith is differently constituted," said her husband, 
 in an apologizing tone. " I have no doubt she is driv'en 
 almost to madness by her conflict between pride and 
 conscience, while Alice is not only by nature gentle and 
 yielding, but has a never-failing principle of right within 
 her own breast, by which, however trying and difficult, 
 she endeavors to regulate her conduct." 
 
 Long and earnestly did they discuss the subject, and 
 fervently did they imp] ore wisdom for themselves, and
 
 IN DISGUISE. 277 
 
 for the poor, wayward girl who was thus throwing away 
 her hopes and happiness. They prayed that God would 
 humble her proud, rebellious spirit, and enable her to 
 submit to the dispensations of his will. 
 
 " Poor, poor Edith ! " Mrs. Stanley might well exclaim. 
 Yet, when she repeated the words, she had but a faint 
 conception of the horrible thoughts of God, of the mur- 
 muring at his will, of the hatred she indulged against 
 the whole family, and especially against the one whom 
 she had so often taunted with her low birth, all of which 
 made the meat and drink of the almost insane Edith. 
 
 When she first saw the senseless form of Alice borne 
 to her chamber, her natural sympathies were warmly 
 enlisted. , She shuddered at the thought that Alice might 
 die, die with her words of taunting unforgiven, and 
 she clung to Gertrude in her affright ; but the moment 
 her mother's confession met her ear, it struck conviction 
 of its truthfulness to her heart. She waited for no 
 proof; she needed none. She had often asked herself 
 the question, " Why am I so unlike my sisters, in 
 everything unlike them ? " She rushed to her own apart- 
 ment, which of late she had occupied alone, and shut 
 herself in. 
 
 For several hours she was stunned, or rather para- 
 lyzed, by the shock. When the horrible shrieks of Alice 
 rang through the house, filling every other heart with u 
 shuddering compassion for the poor sufferer, she only 
 laughed a bitter laugh, as she thought, how cheaply Alice 
 had purchased her future prospects, and how willingly 
 fhe would suffer anything which could be inflicted to be 
 restored to the position she had held only a few hours 
 24
 
 278 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL, 
 
 before. Though of all the family, to Ediih hal always 
 been ascribed more of pride of rank and station than 
 any other member ; yet she thought she had never 
 rightly prized them until now, when they were forever 
 snatched from her grasp. She knew, she felt sure, that 
 her father and mother, nay, that every one in the family, 
 would rejoice at the change. How she hated them, as 
 she thought of it. She was well aware that she had oc- 
 casioned her parents great anxiety ; that, though younger 
 than her sisters, she had exerted an unfavorable influ- 
 ence upon them, and that over the servants she had tyr- - 
 annized. How different with Alice ? Always beloved, 
 now how would she be caressed. Then came Uncle Ste- 
 phen, with his overweening fondness for his -favorite. 
 She felt, yes, it was so, she hated him worse than all. 
 No, there was one, and that one the mother who bore 
 her, whom she never would see, never forgive. Call her 
 MOTHER, the insane hag ! Her blood chilled as she re- 
 verted to the prophetic words so lately heard from hei 
 lips, " Beware, the hour of retribution is at hand ! " Call 
 her mother ! No ! Sooner would she allow her tongue 
 to be cut from her mouth. 
 
 Not one tear moistened her blood-shot eyes ; not yet 
 came one thought to soften her obdurate, stubborn heart. 
 All was wild chaos and confusion. When she heard the 
 step of her mother come out of the sick room, and her 
 voice softly pleading, " Edith, rny dear child, admit your 
 mother," she only laughed her to scorn. " No," was ber 
 proud thought, " she shall never see me suffer. Low 
 as I have fallen, I will never stoop to that ; " and she 
 shut her heart firmly to every tender emotion. Wholly
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 engrossed as she was in her own condition, she yet 
 seemed almost snpernaturally alive to every sound. Xoi 
 a step or whisper in the hall through that long, long 
 night, escaped her, a night followed by days of suffering 
 to which, in after years, she looked back with the wonde; 
 that God did not wholly forsake her, and leave her to do 
 that which more than once suggested itself to her mind. 
 lake her own life. 
 
 When the gray morning dawned, the day which 
 brought such cheering words of hope to the tender parents 
 with regard to their sweet child, it brought no blessings to 
 her heart. All, all was dark ; all was rebellious. " What 
 have I done ? " she exclaimed, " to bring such a fate 
 upon myself! Cruel, unjust fate, I will never submit to 
 it ! " She walked, and walked, and wrung her hands, 
 untii, overcome with the thoughts which forced them- 
 selves into her mind, she threw herself upon the bed, cry- 
 ing, " Oh, why was I born ? " 
 
 But such a state of mind could not last forever. So 
 far she had justified herself, while all others had been 
 guilty of the greatest injustice to her. When conscience 
 whispered, its gentle voice had been instantly hushed : 
 now it thundered that it would Be heard, and Edith, m: 
 longer proudly erect, with haughty mien and flashing 
 eye, bows her head lower and lower upon her breast, as 
 it holds the mirror of truth before her, and conviires 
 her of her sin. The view is too appalling, and she cries 
 aloud, " I will not hear! I will not see! " but it will no 
 longer restrain its warning voice. 
 
 " With whom, vain girl ! " it cries, " are you contend-
 
 280 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " With the one who calls me her child with this 
 family with my destiny." 
 
 What is destiny ? " 
 
 " That which is to be." 
 
 " But have those you name power over your destiny ?" 
 
 No, I defy them.'' 
 
 Who, then, does control it ? " 
 
 God." 
 
 " It is, then, your Maker with whom you are jontend- 
 ing. Horrible impiety ! I wonder he does not consume 
 you with the breath of his mouth." 
 
 " But it is hard, it is cruel, that all my high hopes, all 
 my ardent expectations of happiness, should in one brief 
 moment be dashed to the ground." 
 
 " Dare you accuse God of injustice ? Look again. 
 You were born of ignoble parents. Your mother longed 
 to place you in a situation far above her own, where her 
 pride could be gratified by seeing one who was bone of 
 her bone, caressed and cherished as their own by the 
 scions of a noble house. To do this she defrauded them 
 of what they prized more than gold or landed estates, 
 and reduced their cherished one to her own low condi 
 tion. For wise purposes God allowed this to be. You 
 were placed in circumstances of ease and comfort. She 
 whose right they were, was a dependant upon their 
 bounty. You were cherished, educated, and, but for your 
 imperious temper, might have been dearly loved. Mow 
 did you receive these privileges ? As your right not only, 
 but as giving you power to taunt and triumph over those 
 who enjoyed them not, while she whose position in life 
 you had usurped, received your taunts in the spirit of 
 meekness, and earnesly prayed for her persecutor."
 
 IN DISGUISE 281 
 
 u No more, no more ! 1 cannot bear it ! " 
 
 " Then how have you obeyed the divine comrr. and, 
 * Honor thy father and thy mother ' ? You have openly 
 disregarded it. You have set your will in defiance of 
 those placed over you; have opposed their indulgence 
 with ingratitude, their kindness with hatred, and now 
 you complain that they treat you with gross injustice." 
 
 " Perhaps they have not been as much to blame as I 
 at first imagined ; but certainly it was a cruel kindness 
 to allow me to cherish hopes and expectations of future 
 happiness, and then dash them to the ground." 
 
 " Rebellious girl, forbear ! How dare you utter such 
 words against your Maker, who may at any moment call 
 you to your last account ? It is only by his infinite for- 
 bearance you have lived and breathed. Has not the pot- 
 ter power over the clay to make one vessel unto honor 
 and another unto dishonor ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the poor girl, in an agony of remorse, " I 
 see it all ! Yes, I see my sins ; they rise like a moun- 
 tain before me ; " and for the first time tears gushed forth 
 to her relief. For hours she wept, while the remembrance 
 of the indulgence of her parents, the slighted affection of 
 her sisters, whom she had so often wounded by unkind- 
 ness ; her scornful treatment of her foster-sister, and last, 
 but not least, the course; she had pursued with Mr. Hunt- 
 ington, wl.om she had never ceased to love, caused her 
 to sink lower and lower in her own estimation. Had the 
 kind letter of Mr. Stanley reached her then, the answer 
 would have been different. She was softened and sub- 
 dued, and now thoroughly exhausted, she threw herself 
 upon her bed, and slept until day. 
 24*
 
 282 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 After partaking very sparingly from the tempting re- 
 past left at the doer, Edith stood gazing abstractedly 
 from the window, which commanded a view of the side 
 entrance. She sighed deeply as she saw one of the ser- 
 vants at work in the garden, and others passing and re- 
 passing from the kitchen to a wood-shed in the rear. " 1 
 have no right here ; these things are nothing to me ! " she 
 exclaimed, while the unbidden tears trickled down her 
 cheeks, from which the brilliant color had entirely disap- 
 peared. 
 
 At that moment she saw a figure leave the cottage at 
 the gate, and approachjthe Hall. At the sight of her, 
 Edith drew up her form to its full height, her nostrils 
 dilated, and, with an exclamation of bitter reproach, she 
 turned hastily away. " Fool, why could she not let it 
 remain so ! It would have made r.o essential difference 
 
 with Alice, while with me /' Jnst at this time it 
 
 was when she received the lei/ jr ^om Mr. Stanley, offer- 
 ing her the place of an adopt/ ,d raiJcl. Her first thought 
 was to accept it, and be grateful for his kindness. But 
 the mention of the fact that he had forgiven her mother, 
 turned her gratitude to bitterness, and under the influ- 
 ence of this feeling she Ijad written her reply. Yet it was 
 no sooner beyond her reach than she would have given 
 anything to recall it. She again perused the letter, and 
 while he was grieving over her cold note, she was in an 
 agony of remorse, caused by his fatherly one. 
 
 Thus day after day passed on with quick alternations 
 in her heart of stubbornness and compliance. Every 
 step which drew near her door caused her heart to beat 
 more quickly ; and, as they passed without speaking, she
 
 IN DISGUISE. 283 
 
 cried out, " they have forgotten me ! they love me not ! " 
 and her tears burst forth afresh. But when Mrs. Stanley 
 begged for admittance, with a sudden feeling of pride, 
 for which she could not herself account, she coldly re- 
 fused. 
 
 It was now nearly a week since the accident happened 
 which had caused such unforeseen results. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Stanley became seriously alarmed, lest this continued 
 confinement might affect the reason of the poor girl. 
 They had long ago consulted their kind physician in ref- 
 erence to the course they should pursue, and he was fully 
 of the opinion that any attempt to use force would only 
 aggravate the case. But they could not be persuaded to 
 delay much longer some more decided measures. Once, 
 only, had they heard her voice, and then it was so hoarse 
 and unnatural that it could hardly be recognized. This 
 was on the occasion of Mrs. Stanley calling for admit- 
 tance in earnest tones of entreaty. She felt that if she 
 could only talk with Edith face to face, that she could 
 prevail upon her to throw away all her pride, and all her 
 reserve, and to return to her place as a daughter in the 
 family; but, after waiting so long for a reply that she 
 was on the point of turning away, a sound in the closed 
 room recalled her, " If you wish to render me still more 
 wretched than I am, it is in your power to do so by try- 
 ing to intrude upon my grief." 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered before Edith wou 1 
 have given worlds to recall them. She sat down on the 
 bed, and buried her face in the pillow, while she sobbed 
 and sobbed until she could do so no 'onger. She be- 
 came really alarmed about herself, and fearful of losing
 
 284 " THE HOUSEHOLD OfGEL 
 
 hei reason, perhaps her life, and conscience had al- 
 ready taught her that she was not prepared to die. " I 
 must get away from this place ! " she exclaimed, ' and 
 the sooner the better ! " The thought of applying to her 
 
 old teacher, at T , for a situation as under-teache*. 
 
 flashed through her mind. She started to her feet. " I 
 will do it. Yes, that is my best plan. Why have I not 
 thought of it before ? " 
 
 Want of energy and decision was not one of Edith's 
 faults, and in an hour her whole plan of operations was 
 arranged. A few clothes, packed in a small carpet-bag, 
 and, with the exception of her riding dress and bonnet, 
 she was ready for a start whenever a favorable time 
 should arrive. The latter articles were in Gertrude's 
 room, and she only waited until the family were at tea, 
 before she glided across the entry, and, unperceived by 
 any one, conveyed them to her room. Now that she had 
 formed a plan, she was more composed than she had 
 been for a week. The night was calm and clear. The 
 moon would rise by eleven, and before the morning 
 dawned she intended to be far on her way. 
 
 That night, just as Mrs. Stanley was falling asleep, she 
 was aroused by hearing a muffled sound of a horse pass- 
 ing down the fr,ont avenue. Her first thought was that 
 Dr. Jenks had been going past the house, and seeing 
 lights, had called to inquire for his patient ; but a second 
 thought convinced her that he would not come at so late 
 an hour, after leaving her comfortable in the afternoon. 
 She sprang up and looked from the window ; but, though 
 she could now distinctly hear the sound of a horse going 
 at full speed, yet the foliage of the trees was too thick
 
 IN DISGUISE. 385 
 
 for her to perceive either the animal or his rider. Think- 
 ing it not best to awaken her husband, she returned to 
 her bed, and soon fell asleep. 
 
 The mystery was solved in the morning, for, as Mr. 
 Stanley was going into the breakfast-room, the coachman 
 entered, with a perturbed manner, and informed him that 
 upon going to the stable he found Felix standing outside 
 the door, neighing for admittance. " Miss Alice's saddle 
 was on him," continued the man, " and the little whip 
 was carefully tied by the tassel to the pummel." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley then related what she had heard in the 
 night, and the name " Edith," from Gertrude, suggested 
 who the rider must have been. Emma flew to her room, 
 and instantly returned with an open note, which she had 
 found in the vacant chamber. It was without direction, 
 but she placed it in her father's hands. It was simply 
 announcing her determination to leave Lindenwood, and 
 hereafter to provide for herself; and closed with saying 
 that when she reached her destination she would let them 
 know where she was. 
 
 With the simple words " Deluded girl ! " he read it 
 aloud to the assembled family, who were all much af- 
 fected at her sudden departure.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " Oh, what passions then, 
 What melting sentiments of kindly care, 
 On the new parents seize." Thomson. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT had now elapsed since Alice Carey had 
 become Alice Stanley, and Dr. Jenks assured them there 
 was no reason for delaying longer to inform her of the 
 fact, especially as she often expressed wonder that Edith 
 had not been in to see her. Gertrude had sought an 
 opportunity, when alone with her sister, to beg her for- 
 giveness for all the unkindness she had srown, to which 
 Alice promptly replied, " All is forgotten, dear Gertrude, 
 save the unwearied tenderness you have exhibited since 
 I was sick." From that time the elder sister constituted 
 herself head nurse, and never was Alice more pleased 
 than with the affectionate care with which her beloved 
 sister now administered to her wants. 
 
 " You will spoil me with kindness, dear Gertrude," 
 she said, one day, as the latter, after having moistened 
 her hair, was rolling the long ringlets around her fingers, 
 (; I wonder how long it will be before I can make my 
 own toilet ? " 
 
 " As far as I am concerned," replied her sister, " I hope 
 not for a long time, for I was never more happy than at 
 present." 
 
 The young patient made no reply, though her heart 
 was swelling with emotion. She lay wilh her eyes fixed 
 
 286
 
 Till; 110 1 SKHOLD ANGEL IN DISGUISE. 287 
 
 upon the beautiful countenance so near her own. There 
 was a soft and pleasant light in the eye, and dimples 
 playing about the mouth, while the scornful expression 
 which had almost become habitual had wholly vanished 
 " You are very happy," she said, at length. 
 
 " And you, Miss Curious, have been speculating upon 
 the cause, I suppose, all the time you have been gazing 
 so earnestly into my face. What discoveries have you 
 made? See, I have nearly finished the curls on this 
 side ; you must be quick." 
 
 The heart of Alice beat wildly. She longed to ask 
 one question, but, as it was upon a subject never men- 
 tioned by Gertrude, she feared to offend. The young 
 lady certainly had greatly changed. From being petu- 
 lant and averse to any kind of labor, she was evidently 
 striving to become amiable and energetic. Often at 
 night, while she lay quietly sleeping upon a couch drawn 
 to the bedside of her sister, Alice, rendered wakeful by 
 her position, had wondered what could be the cause. 
 She hesitated a moment, until, encouraged by a smile, 
 she said, "Dear Gertrude, have you learned to love the 
 Saviour ? " 
 
 The question was wholly unexpected ; and, with a 
 burst of feeling, Gertrude dropped the brush, and hid 
 her face in the pillow. Her sobs were so violent that 
 the invalid became alarmed, and, putting her hand upon 
 her sister's, continued, with the utmost tenderness, ; ' For- 
 give me ; J did not mean to offend." 
 
 In reply, Gertrude warmly pressed the little hand, 
 and soon was sufficiently composed to s;iy, " You have 
 not offended me ; but indeed, dear sister, I have tried
 
 288 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 to imitate your lovely example. I need you to teach 
 me." 
 
 Alice was not the only one to notice the change in 
 the young lady. Since the first sight of her sister on 
 the day of the dreadful accident, she had seen herself in 
 a new light. The proud, unyielding disposition mani- 
 fested by Edith, exhibiting so strong a contrast to the 
 meek piety of Alice, made her shudder at the remem- 
 brance of the anger and jealousy she had indulged, and 
 she had become earnest in her desire to reform. She 
 had lived too long in a Christian family not to be aware 
 that she needed something beyond her own strength to 
 enable her to carry out her resolutions of amendment; 
 and she had begun to pray for help to subdue her irrita- 
 bility and indolence, and for assistance to cultivate the 
 graces of meekness and courtesy. The question of 
 Alice opened her heart, and, after she become more 
 composed, was followed by a delightful conversation, 
 the influence of which upon their mutual affection was 
 never forgotten by either. 
 
 On the afternoon of the day in question, the kind 
 physician had promised her parents to come up and 
 communicate to Alice the surprising discovery that she 
 was not only the adopted, but the real, daughter of 
 Mr. Stanley an event to which the whole household 
 were looking forward with great interest. Uncle Stephen 
 had been playfully forbidden by Gertrude to enter the 
 gick room through the morning, lest the mysterious air 
 which he in vain tried to conceal should arrest the atten- 
 tion of the invalid. It was for this occasion that Ger- 
 trude had been making so elaborate a display of ringlets ,
 
 IN DISGUISE. 289 
 
 and now her mother and Emma were called to assist in" 
 arraying her in the snow-white wrapper which had been 
 prepared for her. A narrow frill was basted into the 
 neck, and her elder sister took out her own brooch, and 
 fastened the dress in front. 
 
 " Now, if that old frame were out of the way," ex- 
 rlaimed Emma, " all would do well. Every thing else 
 is ready." 
 
 " Are you expecting company ? " asked Alice, gayly. 
 
 Emma, fearing she had betrayed herself, was hasten- 
 ing to turn the subject, when the voice of her father, 
 talking with a man in the lower hall, arrested her 
 attention. 
 
 " I'm sartain it's the place," said the stranger, in a 
 loud voice, 'cause it says, plain enough, ' Care of Hugh 
 Stanley, Esq., Lindenwood, Queenstown, for Miss Alice.' 
 There ! you can read it for yourself." 
 
 " Yes," responded Mr. Stanley, musingly ; " but I 
 can't imagine what it is, or who it came from." 
 
 " It came direct from New York," continued the man, 
 " and, if you'll say where you want it carried, I'll take 
 it there while my men are here. It's considerable large, 
 though 'taint so dreadful heavy." 
 
 Gertrude and Emma, who, during the above conver- 
 sation, had been standing at the head of the stairs, now 
 ran clown, and Uncle Stephen followed them. 
 
 Emma borrowed her father's knife, and began to cut 
 the cords which se\ved the matting, wondering what the 
 awkwardly shaped thing could be. She had no sooner 
 pulled it away far enough to discover that, whatever it 
 was, the article was covered with a beautiful shade of 
 25
 
 290 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 blue velvet, than she earnestly begged to hav/3 it carried 
 to Alice's room, that she might have the pleasure of see- 
 ing her curious present. 
 
 " Let alone the women for finding out secrets," said 
 the man, looking admiringly at the animated counte- 
 nance of Emma. " They beat us men-folks out and out." 
 
 As Mr. Stanley willingly consented, the men lifted 
 the piece of furniture, and soon deposited it safely out- 
 side the door of Alice's room. The excitement had 
 brought a flush to the cheeks of the invalid ; and, as the 
 honest Yankee caught a glimpse of her bright counte- 
 nance shaded by the chestnut curls, he started back, and 
 wiped his eyes. 
 
 " I tell you what," said he, bluntly, " if you keep 
 angels like that, no wonder she has things corrie to her;" 
 and, turning quickly, he followed his men, saying he 
 was paid by the gentleman who delivered the article to 
 his care. 
 
 They all then went to work with right good will to 
 cut open the matting, and in a short time disclosed to 
 view a large chair for an invalid, which could be ex- 
 tended at pleasure into a couch, the part serving for a 
 cricket being lowered or raised at pleasure. In addition, 
 a slight mahogany frame had been added for a broken 
 arm, showing that this part, at least, had been ordered 
 expressly for her benefit. 
 
 No one was more delighted than Uncle Stepnen, who 
 walked around and around it, tipping up the back to an 
 erect posture, then lowering it to an almost horizontal 
 position. " I saw one," he said, " nearly resembling, it 
 in India. It belonged to a British officer."
 
 IN niscuisE. 291 
 
 Mr. Stanley smiled as he remarked, " Then it is to 
 you Alice is indebted for her expensive gift ; but 1 
 will leave her to express her thanks, which I see she is 
 longing to do." 
 
 " Me ! thanks to me ! " exclaimed Uncle Stephen. " 1 
 assure you I know nothing at all about it. I had no 
 idea one could be procured in this country ; " and he 
 stepped briskly about the room, as if he were delighted 
 that this time they were in fault. 
 
 "Who can it be ?"' asked Alice, thoughtfully. "1 
 don't know anybody else who would be so extravagant, 
 just for me ; " but, catching a glance of intelligence 
 passing between Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, she checked her- 
 self. A sudden suspicion of who might be the donor 
 caused her to grow very warm about the heart. 
 
 " Whoever sent it here," replied Gertrude, " I propose 
 that Alice take immediate possession." 
 
 " Oh, may I ? " cried the young girl, joyfully ; " that 
 would be delightful, for I am so tired of this one 
 position ! " 
 
 " T don't know that we ought to remove you without 
 the consent of your doctor," replied her father ; but the 
 entreaties of mother and sisters prevailed, and the pa- 
 tient was, withput delay, lifted from the bed, her father 
 carefully steadying her broken arm, and placing it in the 
 new frame. 
 
 "Admirably contrived! and how very convenient!" 
 were echoed and reechoed, as Alice, though a little trern 
 ulous from the exertion, lay back smiling in her new 
 chair. 
 
 " Oh, I shall so love this seat ! " sne said, enthusias-
 
 292 1HE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 tically, " and I'm very grateful to whoever planned it foi 
 me.'' 
 
 A shout of mirth, from Emma, caused the whole party 
 to turn quickly ; and there, at the door, making his way 
 over the matting, which had been thrown into the entry, 
 stood Clarence, looking on with a most complacent, smile. 
 He bit his lip, to keep from laughing, when he saw he had 
 arrested their attention ; but came forward, as they 
 eagerly called him to see Alice sitting up. He duly ad- 
 mired the chair, as Uncle Stephen pointed out its con- 
 veniences ; but seemed most intent upon the downcast 
 eyes of the occupant. 
 
 After her first glance at him, the patient was satisfied 
 that it was to his kindness she was indebted for this 
 pleasure ; but confused, and trembling from the con- 
 viction, she could not utter a word. 
 
 " Who could have sent it ? " inquired Emma, looking 
 archly at Clarence, " Alice is so anxious to know, that 
 she may express her thanks." 
 
 " It is, indeed, very mysterious," replied the attorney, 
 averting his eyes, and appearing to be wholly occupied 
 with an iron screw, which confined the frame, for the 
 arm, to the main body of the chair. 
 
 " Oh, Clarence !" whispered the laughing girl, " if you 
 ever expect to keep your secrets, you must cover your 
 mouth, or keep down the corners. They are looking 
 very suspicious." 
 
 Now Clarence's mouth had, from a child, been a 
 serious annoyance to him ; he being fully aware of his 
 infirmity; and now he .shook his head at the mischievous 
 girl as he went on with the examination of the screw.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 29'J 
 
 * 
 
 " Is anything the matter there ?" asked Uncle Stephen, 
 impatiently walking around, to see what was occupying 
 the attention of his ward. 
 
 14 No, sir,'' was the reply ; " I wanted to see if it was 
 strong." But as he spoke, he drew out from the side a 
 thin piece of mahogany, which was to be used as a 
 table ; and now every one' declared it was perfect. 
 
 In the meantime, Gertrude was bravely struggling 
 with herself to keep down the rising emotions of envy 
 and jealousy, caused by the belief that Clarence had 
 thus proved his deep affection for her sister. Her former 
 anger was for one moment aroused, but her prayers had 
 not been in vain ; and soon the spirit of her Saviour de- 
 scended upon her, calming her agitated breast to peace ; 
 and when the family, fearing lest the invalid should be- 
 come too weary, turned, with many congratulations, to 
 leave the room, none were more sincerely uttered than 
 Gertrude's. 
 
 Leaving Emma with her sister, she retired for one 
 moment to her own chamber, where she uttered a devout 
 thanksgiving to Him, who had helped her to conquer 
 herself. Then, with a few tears of regret, as she thought 
 of the noble heart she had lost, she bathed her eyes, and 
 returned cheerfully to her sister's room. 
 
 Brave girl, God will reward thee ! 
 
 About, four o'clock the Doctor's old horse came driving 
 up to the door, and soon his cheerful voice was heard on 
 ihe stairs.. He had never appeared in a more jovial 
 mood. 
 
 " Whew! whew! what has happened? Great liberty 
 has been taken \viih rny palieni.'' But alter he had 
 
 25*
 
 294 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 * 
 
 carefully examined the bandages, to see that no narm had 
 been done, and felt her pulse, which had been calmed by 
 a refreshing nap in her new chair, the sympathizing 
 friend was loud in his praises of the contrivance. 
 
 ' Well, pet," said he, tapping her cheek, " to whom arr. 
 I indebted for this favor to my patient ? I'll make my 
 best bow to him." 
 
 A tell-tale blush overspread her face, as she faltered, " 1 
 don't know, sir." But Alice was truthful, and could not 
 even thus indirectly say that which was false. She raised 
 her eyes, met those of Clarence fixed calmly upon her, 
 and with the words, " I have not been told," burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " Hey-day! " exclaimed the Doctor, "growing nervous!" 
 and he shook his head with a disappointed air, as he 
 again placed his fingers on her wrist, and found there had 
 been a sudden quickening of the pulse ; " 1 must give 
 you a dose of your favorite syrup." But she soon suc- 
 ceeded in calming herself, though she took good care to 
 avoid glancing in the direction of Clarence. 
 
 Mr. Stanley called the Doctor for a walk in the garden, 
 and half an hour later, when they returned, she had so 
 fully recovered her spirits, that he determined upon re- 
 vealing to her the secret which was becoming so burden 
 some to the family : " Sit down here," he called out 
 " and be quiet; I want to tell you a story about one of 
 my patients ; " and the good man made a great effort to 
 appear wholly unmoved. Mr. Stanley quietly .drew near, 
 and seated himself by his child, while the others disposed 
 themselves about the room ; Uncle Stephen cautiously
 
 IN DISGUISE. 295 
 
 placing himself behind her chair, where he could use his 
 handkerchief freely and unobserved. 
 
 Dr. Jenks was not a man to stop for a preface, and he 
 commenced : " Once, upon a time, there were two little 
 
 girls, whose names were , well, no matter what 
 
 their names were; but they were foster-sisters, just as 
 you, Alice, and Edith are. They lived together in a 
 beautiful home, and the parents loved the little fatherless 
 child just as well as the other, for aught I ever saw. 
 For some reasons which were satisfactory to his own 
 mind, the gentleman who was the father of one of them, 
 determined that they should be educated together ; and 
 so it went on, the little things growing up though 
 never were two children more unlike in words or 
 actions. The mother died, but there came a new mother, 
 who did her duty faithfully to both of them ; but while 
 she did this, she took the little dependant to her heart 
 with a warmth of affection which grew stronger and 
 stronger every year. There were a good many others, 
 too, who loved her ; they couldn't help it. I loved her 
 myself," and the good old man made a great effort tc 
 suppress a sob, which was welling up from his sympa- 
 thizing heart. 
 
 " Well," he continued, " I can't say so much for the 
 other one ; I never knew so much of her ; but to make 
 a long story short, when the children had come on 
 pretty well in their teens, it so happened that one of 
 them, the little one, was thrown from a horse, and u 
 pretty serious matter it proved to be, for then it came 
 out, that the children had been changed when they were 
 babies, and the mother of the haughty girl, who had
 
 296 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGFI 
 
 always supposed herself to be a child of the family, lei 
 it all out. She had been rather crazy for some years, 
 but in this case she proved herself rational, and so you 
 see " 
 
 At the mention of the insane mother, Alice started 
 forward, and, with suspended breath, listened for what 
 was to follow; when, noticing her excitement, the Doctor 
 paused she sank back, and gasped, " What! " 
 
 He was rather startled, and placed his fingers on her 
 wrist, saying: " I'm sorry, dear, you don't like my story." 
 
 The poor girl cast a quick, beseeching glance around 
 the room, and perceiving the eager look of interest with 
 which every one was regarding her, whispered with her 
 white lips, " What were their names ? " 
 
 " Can't guess, hey ? Well, then, if I must tell you, 
 one was Edith, and the" 
 
 But she waited for no more. With a quick motion 
 she clasped her father's extended hand, and pressed it to 
 her lips, and in a tone which went to every heart, ex- 
 claimed : " Oh, father ! my own father ! " 
 
 Mother and sisters sprang up wept and rejoiced 
 over her. Nor were Uncle Stephen or Clarence at all 
 behind the others in their expression of joy ; though the 
 former manifested it in his own peculiar way, and sob- 
 bed to his heart's content ; while the good Doctor, in hit 
 delight, gave each of the family a hearty shake of the 
 hand. 
 
 Somehow, in the confusion, Alice found her hand 
 made prisoner, and, on looking around, she saw it was 
 by her Uncle's ward, who seemed to be trying to get an 
 opportunity to speak to her.
 
 fN DISGUISE. 297 
 
 But Dr. Jenks thought, his patient had had quite enough 
 of excitement for one day, and hurried the family out of 
 the room, though Alice begged them to stay. When 
 they were gone, however, she felt that it was desirable 
 that she should be quiet for a time, such a torrent of 
 emotions were crowding through her mind. The great 
 happiness in store for her, and the sorrow she felt for 
 poor Edith, about whom, as yet, she had heard nothing, 
 but for whom she feared everything. Oh what joy, in 
 the thought that she had a father ! one, to whom she 
 could look for guidance and protection ! Then, a feel- 
 ing of regret that Louis had not lived, to know what 
 would have given him so much pleasure. These feel- 
 ings were quickly followed by wonder at the motives of 
 Mrs. Carey (no longer her mother), to such a crime; and 
 why, after- perpetrating it, and keeping it a secret so 
 many years, she had now divulged it. But beyond all 
 these pleasurable and painful emotions, nay, that which 
 modified all others, was the delightful conviction that 
 she had won the love of him, whom from childhood she 
 had regarded as the model of a Christian gentleman 
 Every day brought fresh conviction of the depth am 1 
 fervency of his affection, and though he had never ut- 
 tered it in words, yet, she read it in every^action, and 
 she was satisfied. The dix/iness in her head, which had 
 never left her since the sad night when, for the first time 
 in her life, she had fainted, warned her of the necessity 
 of composing herself, and making a great effort to turn 
 her thoughts front every exciting subject, she tried Uncle 
 Stephen's remedy, and repeated hymn after hymn, that 
 she had learned in childhood.
 
 298 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 For an hour she lay so quietly that Gertrude, \vlio alone 
 remained with her, thought she was sleeping ; but at 
 length she opened her eyes, and when she perceived who 
 was with her, exclaimed, with a bright smile : " Oh, my 
 sister ! I would willingly suffer all I have lost in these 
 long years, for the joy of the past hour. I can see that, 
 for me, there was a wise Providence in placing me just 
 where I was, that I might be kept from temptations to 
 pride and arrogance ; but you can never realize the de- 
 light which thrills through my whole being as I repeat 
 to myself, again and again, the endearing names, father, 
 mother, sisters, and brother" 
 
 " Brother!" repeated Gertrude, earnestly, while a sud- 
 den ray of hope flashed from her eye, as she thought her 
 sister referred to Clarence. 
 
 Alice instinctively understood her, and faltered, 
 " Yes, he is still my brother, though his body* has for 
 many years been resting in the grave. Dear, dear Louis, 
 how delighted you would have been ! " 
 
 On the following Sabbath, the family assembled for 
 prayer in the room of the invalid ; and to her it proved a 
 delightful season. 
 
 The sad fate of Edith had affected her deeply, tuough 
 the tidings of the poor girl's departure had been commu- 
 nicated to*her by her father, in the most cautious manner. 
 With Mrs. Carey, too, Alice had wept, whi e she granted 
 her full forgiveness for the past.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " A pure heart, 
 
 That burns to ashes, yet conceals its pain, 
 For fear it mar its hopeless source of love, 
 Is not to be despised, or lightly held." Baker 
 
 THE weather was now delightful ; and Alice, who 
 had been in the habit of daily out-door exercise, pant- 
 ed for the fresh air. She began to long for her ml'-.-, 
 and was earnest to resume her visits to her proteges. 
 Long before this, she had learned from Dr. Jenks, that 
 the young girl he mentioned to her, as a suitable ob- 
 ject for her charity, had been removed to his own house, 
 and Emma had visited her there. 
 
 One morning, the weary girl sat listening to the song 
 of her Canary, when she suddenly started forward, ex- 
 claiming, " Oh, I feel as if I should fly ! I must do 
 something, I'm so tired of sitting here." 
 
 Emma, who was seated near the window with her 
 sewing, said, archly, " I'll see if Clarence is in. I notice 
 that his presence has a very soothing effect upon your 
 nerves ; or will you have another of your fragrant nssa- 
 fcetida pills?" 
 
 The face of Alice expressed, for a moment, the most 
 perfect disgust at the last-named remedy. T< tho 
 former, she would deign no reply. 
 
 " I wont have my patient annoyed," remarked Ger 
 trade, pleasantly. 
 
 269
 
 300 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 A sudden thought seemed to dart through Emma's 
 fertile brain. She sprang up, and, throwing her arms 
 around her mother's neck, whispered something in her 
 ear. Mrs. Stanley smilingly nodded, and the laughing girl 
 ran from the room. 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! " exclaimed Alice, in distress, " she 
 wouldn't," she faltered, " she wouldn't do what she 
 said ! " 
 
 " No, my dear, she is the last one to compromise your 
 delicacy. She has forgotten the remark before now." 
 
 The ladies returned to their sewing, and Alice read 
 aloud to them. 
 
 It was rather more than an hour after Emma had so 
 unceremoniously taken leave, when they heard a carriage 
 drive into the yard. Suppressed voices were soon heard 
 in the hall. Alice leaned forward, as far as her arm 
 would allow, to listen, when the runaway, with a bright 
 face, ushered Mrs. Hayden, Minnie, and Nurse Green, 
 into the room. 
 
 " That was a happy thought of yours," remarked Ger- 
 trude, after they were all seated. " Alice looks ten per 
 cent, better, already." 
 
 And, in truth, the visitors appeared to enjoy it as much 
 as she did. Mrs. Hayden had suffered from anxiety for 
 her kind benefactress, and was relieved by seeing how 
 fast she had gained, while the garrulous nurse was so full 
 of her good wishes and congratulations, that all were 
 cheered by them. 
 
 " I heard the whole," she resumed, " from that ere 
 young Mr. Sydney ; and a likelier man I'd never ask to 
 Bee, even to match you, Mi^ Alice."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 301 
 
 The young girl blushed painfully, as she interrupted 
 her, " You are mistaken, Nurse ; there is nothing of that 
 kind between us." 
 
 But, with a knowing wink at Mrs. Stanley, she went 
 on, " You can't blind me ; I'm used to such things, going 
 round, as I do, in families ; and young men, and girls, 
 too, very often makes me a confidant like, and asks my 
 advice, seeing I've had a good deal of experience. Now, 
 it's my opinion, that much as Mr. Sydney thinks of Min- 
 nie, there, he wouldn't be coming day after day to the 
 house to see her, if 'twant for the pleasure of hearing me 
 talk about you." 
 
 " Oh," said Alice, " he never told me he'd been. I hope 
 you wont say anything." 
 
 " Never fear me," replied the old lady ; " I sha'n't say 
 any hurt of you ; you may depend on that." 
 
 " But, indeed, Nurse, I had rather you wouldn't even 
 mention my name ; " and Alice looked really annoyed. 
 
 " Bless your heart, dear ! only think what a comfort 
 you'd deprive me of, as well as the young man. Why, 
 you're the very light of his eyes. I have laughed many 
 a time to see him stand whirling his hat, after he'd said 
 he must go, for sartain, while I'd tell all you did and 
 said when you were here." 
 
 Alice laughed, in spite of herself, at the comic, know- 
 ing winks, of the good nurse ; but immediately sought 
 to direct the attention to Minnie. After the child's first 
 delight at seeing her friend, Emma had taken her for a 
 call upon Uncle Stephen, and just now returned wit.h 
 him into the room. 
 
 Ills presence would have been sufficient to enforce 
 26
 
 302 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 silence, as far as Nurse Green was concerned. She made 
 him a most formal courtesy, in reply to the introduction, 
 and, looking over her glasses, her eyes followed him 
 about the room with a curious mixture of fear and ven- 
 eration. 
 
 He sat down by Mrs. Hayden, and talked very kindly 
 with her about her son, when Emma told him they had 
 left word with a neighbor that he was to come to dinner 
 at the hall. 
 
 On the whole, it was a most delightful day to Alice, 
 as well as to her visitors, though she trembled not a lit- 
 tle, when, in the afternoon, Clarence joined them, and 
 Nurse Green showed herself eager to convince the com- 
 pany on what good terms she was with the young attor- 
 ney. When he brought in a beautiful bouquet from the 
 garden, and sent it to Alice by Minnie, Nurse's eyes said 
 as plainly as words could speak, " I told you so ; let me 
 alone for guessing such things out." And Clarence cer- 
 tainly didn't make much secret of his attachment. 
 
 When Emma had gone to accompany them home, 
 only one thing had occurred which gave Alice uneasi- 
 ness, and that "was a tear which had dropped from Ger- 
 trude's eyes upon her hand. It was when Clarence was 
 present, just after he had sent her the flowers, and was 
 standing in a most hard-hearted manner, feasting his eyea 
 upon the rosy hue which mantled her cheeks. Gertrude 
 had suddenly approached, as if to put back a curl which 
 hung over and shaded her face ; but, as Alice feared, ir- 
 reality to hide her own emotion, by turning her back 
 to those present. 
 
 That pearly drop haunted the poor girl, and it needed
 
 IN DI.-GUISK. 
 
 all the cheering influence of a letter Emrna brought from 
 the office, from Edith, to dissipate the sadness it caused 
 her. The letter from Edith was a great comfort to her 
 kind friends, who had been impatiently awaiting some 
 intelligence from her. She was at T - , with her old 
 teacher, and had already taken charge of the youngest 
 class of girls. The letter was very brief, but contained 
 none of that bitterness which had so much pained her in 
 her former one. 
 
 The next day Mr. Stanley sent her a large trunk con- 
 taining her clothes, together with a generous sum of 
 money for her present need. He also wrote to Mrs. M., 
 the principal, to whose especial care and attention he 
 committed her. 
 
 It was now five weeks since Alice had broken her arm, 
 and she was able to be down stairs. The most trying 
 part of her confinement was now to come, and that was 
 in the daily exercise she was required to give the con- 
 tracted muscles. She was nervous, too, and easily moved 
 to tears, and looked forward with dread, from one day to 
 another, of the excruciating pain, which any one who 
 has broken a limb can well comprehend. She was not 
 the only one who suffered, for there was not a niembei 
 of the household, but would willingly have endured it 
 for her. But Dr. Jenks was inexorable, and told her she 
 would thank him for it bye and bye, and so would they 
 all, though they now made such wry faces at him. 
 
 It was to the influence of this suffering that her friends 
 ascribed the unusual depression of spirits which had 
 corne over their beloved Alice ; but they were mistaken. 
 She had an inward struggle, of which they knew nothing.
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 But the truth was this, her affection Tor Clarence had 
 quickened her perceptions with regard to the feelings 
 which Gertrude entertained for him. During her sick- 
 ness she had had frequent opportunities of watching the 
 conflict the brave girl was carrying on with herself, and 
 her own experience taught her how severe it must be. 
 At the same time, her love and respect for her sister had 
 greatly increased. Through the day she firmly put away 
 all forebodings of coming ill, avoiding the subjects con- 
 stantly recurring to her mind as a duty she owed herself, 
 in respect to the recovery of her health. But her nights 
 had again become wakeful, while doubts whether she 
 had a right to be happy in the love of Clarence at the 
 expense of her sister's sufferings, and fears of alienation 
 from the affections of that sister, by turns occupied her 
 mind. Her intercourse with the young man, from his 
 first coming among them, was carefully reviewed, and 
 she was obliged to acknowledge that he had given Ger- 
 trude reason to suppose he loved her. Certainly his con- 
 duct and attentions had been such as to call out her 
 affection for him. Not knowing all that had passed be- 
 tween them, or the disdainful manner in which Gertrude 
 had formerly at times treated him, and by which she had 
 forfeited his respect, Alice began to doubt whether his 
 course had been perfectly honorable, and whether she 
 should be justified in accepting his suit. She could not 
 be unconscious that he loved her, and that ever since she 
 left her room, he had sought an opportunity to tell her so ; 
 but, while she was so undecided, she avoided being alone 
 with him. Sometimes she thought she would unburden 
 her heart to her mother ; but then she remembered that
 
 IN DISCriSE. 
 
 she had no right to divulge that with regard to her sistei 
 which she was making such an effort to keep locked in 
 her own breast. 
 
 So it went on, day after day, Alice growing more and 
 more excitable and nervous. Gertrude was her unwearied 
 nurse and comforter. Poor Gertrude ! when Alice ap- 
 peared happy in the affections of. Clarence, how many 
 times in a day had she been obliged to retire to her 
 closet, and, with strong crying and tears, beseech her 
 heavenly Father for comfort and support in this her hour 
 of trial ; but now in her sorrow, though little understand- 
 ing the cause, nothing could exceed the tenderness she 
 manifested toward her gentle patient; and Alice clung 
 to her as if her only comfort were in her presence. 
 
 One night Gertrude, who now occupied the same bed 
 with Alice, was awakened by hearing her sob aloud. 
 
 She kept quiet a moment, hoping it was only her im- 
 agination, when the poor girl whispered, " Oh, what can 
 1, what must I, do ? " and she sobbed louder than before. 
 
 With her arms encircling her sister, Gertrude begged 
 her to confide her sorrows to her ear ; and Alice, entirely 
 overcome by her own grief, told her all her heart. It was 
 fortunate that she could not see the tears which fell thickly 
 from Gertrude's eyes, and that the heroic girl so disinter- 
 estedly stifled her sobs, lest they should add to her dis- 
 tress. But in that midnight hour the hearts of these >is- 
 ters were laid bare to one another ; and such a relief did 
 it prove to one, at least, that she fell into a more tranquil 
 and refreshing sleep than she had enjoyed ( br a long 
 time. 
 
 26*
 
 30(5 THE HOUSEHOLD iNGEL 
 
 When the morning dawned, Gertrude sile.itly arose 
 from her bed, and, after making a hasty toilet, retired to 
 her small closet for prayer and praise. 
 
 Yes, for thanksgiving ; for, though ashy pale, yet there 
 was a holy light beaming from her eye, and her counte- 
 nance bore the impress of high and noble purposes. Ow- 
 ing that long, never-to-be-forgotten night, she had care- 
 fully examined her own heart, and questioned her own 
 strength to carry out the purposes she formed while lis- 
 tening to the artless tale of her sister's sufferings. Severe 
 had been the struggle ; but so much the greater was the 
 victory. Divine grace had developed new principles 
 within her, which she herself had been unconscious of 
 possessing; and through the discipline which her heav- 
 enly Father in wisdom had sent, her Christian character 
 had matured in an uncommon degree. 
 
 Softly leaving her chamber, to avoid awaking the 
 sleeper, Gertrude sought the parlor, intending to detain 
 Clarence when he came down for his morning walk. 
 But, to her surprise, the parlor was occupied by Uncle 
 Stephen, who certainly seemed to have got out of bed 
 wrong, so vigorously did he kick about the crickets, as Vu 1 
 promenaded the spacious room. Gertrude stood quietly at 
 the door for a moment, wondering what could have hap- 
 pened to disturb his feelings to such a degree, when he 
 grumbled, " It's always so. Nothing ever goes right in 
 this house. The whole family are bent on crossing my 
 wishes." 
 
 Gertrude could hardly suppress a smile as she listened, 
 which, however, she was careful to conceal from him, as 
 a dangerous exhibition of levity under existing circum-
 
 IN LISGUISK 307 
 
 stances. At length she said, ; ' What is tht> t^oub't now, 
 Uncle Stephen ? " 
 
 " Trouble enough," he burst out, almost angrily, ''when 
 the ones I've loved more than all others, and wan^ec* te 
 make happy, go to cutting up such Didos, and wont 
 take a word of advice from one who's forgotten more 
 than they'll ever know." 
 
 " But who has refused your advice ? " 
 
 " Every body that I've offered it to. I don't go 
 round imposing my advice upon every one ; but, when I 
 do condescend to offer it, I expect to have it taken ; " 
 and a determined push of Alice's great chair, which had 
 been brought to the parlor, showed that he meant what 
 he said. 
 
 Gertrude, seeing it was in vain to ask for an explana- 
 tion, was turning to leave the room, when the excited 
 man, unwilling to lose the only one upon whom he 
 could vent his anger, said, " Did you know Clarence was 
 going to leave Lindenwood in a few hours ? " 
 
 " No," exclaimed Gertrude, with a sudden blanching 
 of her face and lips, which was not unobserved by the 
 other. 
 
 " Well, you know it now. He is on his knees at his 
 trunks, packing as if his life depended on his speed." 
 
 " What is he going to leave for ? " faltered the poor 
 girl. 
 
 " For stuff and nonsense, I say. Because he can't 
 endure hie unhappiness any longer, he says. So there 
 you have it, and you may make the most of it, you can. 
 I wont be a fool, and keep his secrei, if he is such ;> fool 
 as to have one;" and Uncle Stephen sat down with
 
 308 THE HOUSLHOLD ANGEL 
 
 great vehemence, as if he were meditating a heady fit 
 of crying. 
 
 But Gertrude's resolution was taken in a moment 
 " Uncle Stephen," said she, in a firm, full voice, in which 
 every trace of irresolution had gone, " Clarence mustn't 
 go. He must be stopped," 
 
 u How are you going to do it, though ? " he asked, 
 eagerly, gazing earnestly at the young girl. " I've tried 
 all my power over him." 
 
 " Well," she. replied, after thinking a moment, " if you 
 fdll go up and ask Clarence to come to me, I think I 
 can convince him that it would be contrary to his own 
 interest and pleasure to leave ; and that you will find it 
 hard to induce him to do so, after what I shall tell him, 
 I have no doubt," she added, with a sad smile. 
 
 Uncle Stephen sprang from his chair, looked her full 
 in the face for one instant, then, without speaking, rap- 
 idly ascended the stairs ; and before the poor girl could 
 at all collect her thoughts, and arrange what she intended 
 to say, Clarence stood before her. 
 
 " Uncle Stephen says you wish to see me at once 
 upon important business," said he, respectfully taking 
 her hand, struck with the expression of intense suffering 
 upon her countenance. 
 
 She. gently withdrew her hand, and pointed to the 
 sofa, where he seated himself near her. 
 
 An hour later, Alice, pale and languid, but with a 
 lighter heart than for many weeks, descended the stairs. 
 She had in vain waited for her unwearied attendant to 
 assist her in dressing, which she was as yet unable to do 
 alone, and at last had called upon Emma. W mdering
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 what could have induced Gertrude to leave her bed at 
 so early an hour, she walked slowly through the hall, 
 and opened the parlor door. The sight within took 
 away her power of motion. Clarence and Gertrude 
 had started to go to breakfast, and were standing near 
 the entrance. At the moment she saw them, he had 
 raised the hand of his companion to his lips, and said, 
 ill an impassioned voice, " Dearest Gertrude, you have 
 rendered me the happiest of mortals." 
 
 With a faint sickness at her heart, Alice turned slowly 
 away, and tried to retrace her steps to her chamber, but 
 was obliged to lean against the wall for support, Clar- 
 ence started forward to save her from falling ; but she 
 waved him off, until Gertrude whispered something in 
 her ear, and assisted her to the sofa. When she looked 
 around, her sister had slipped from the room. In a low 
 voice, Gertrude begged her mother, who was standing 
 at the urn, to delay breakfast for a few' moments, then 
 ran to her room, where h^r overwrought feelings found 
 relief in a burst of tears. " It is done," she said, aloud ; 
 " humiliating as it was, it is done ; and he does not 
 despise me. He said I had ensured his eternal respect 
 as well as gratitude. Now I must keep my heart with 
 double diligence." 
 
 When, in half an hour, she descended to breakfast, in 
 answer to the long-delayed summons, the whole family 
 were surprised to see Uncle Stephen approach Gertrude, 
 and give her a warm kiss as a token of his unqualified 
 approbation of her conduct; snd the> Astonishment W:M 
 not decreased to sec that she J/UL her aiirs about tbr -ikl 
 man's neck, and as cordially rtMi.-Mt-l hi.< embrace.
 
 310 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 "When Clarence, in answer to Gertrude's summons 
 went below, the impetuous man paced back and forth 
 through his suite of rooms, waiting for him to return to 
 his packing, until he concluded to wait no longer. He 
 therefore descended to the parlor, where he learned from 
 Clarence tnat Gertrude had explained everything to his 
 satisfaction, and had taken from him all desire to leave 
 Lindenwood. 
 
 Though contrary to the good order of the family, Mrs. 
 Stanley made no objection to Clarence's proposal to 
 take the small waiter containing Alice's breakfast from 
 the servant, and carry it to her himself, as she still lay 
 upon the sofa in the parlor. 
 
 " You would do well to add a slice of toast and a cup 
 of coffee for yourself, Clarence," said Emma, laughing 
 mischievously, " since you have put a spoonful of sugar 
 in your egg cup, and salt in your coffee I don't wonder 
 it doesn't relish as well as usual." 
 
 The successful suitor was too happy to take offence, 
 and all joined in a laugh at his expense, during which 
 he retreated quickly from the room. No one seemed in 
 better spirits than Uncle Stephen, who, in a whisper, 
 begged Gertrude to forgive him for treating her so rudely' 
 when she met him in the parlor, then added that he had 
 fallen in love with her himself. 
 
 No one could better appreciate the noble conduct of 
 Gertrude than the good old man ; and, when he had 
 heard from his ward all that she had do. le, he took no 
 pains to conceal the affection and respect her conduct 
 had excited. 
 
 Mr. Stanley was not very much surprised, when, early
 
 IN DISGUISE. 311 
 
 in the forenoon, Clarence knocked at his study door, anc? 
 formally besought the hand of his daughter. He, how- 
 ever, gave his cordial consent, if he could win the love 
 of the young girl. 
 
 " I shall do my best to follow up the advantage I have 
 gained in her affections," replied Clarence, bowing over 
 Mr. Stanley's hand, to conceal the flush of pleasure 
 which lighted up his features ; " and I hope you and her 
 mother will not refuse my wishes for a speedy union." 
 
 " I can assure you," replied Mr. Stanley, " it will cost 
 me something of a struggle to give up so soon the dear 
 child so lately restored to me ; but, as you have done far 
 more toward forming her character than I have, I sup- 
 pose I must in this instance yield my wishes to yours. 
 But there will be time enough hereafter to settle all those 
 matters." 
 
 It is wonderful what a powerful restorative is a heart 
 at rest. Alice gained daily, and Dr. Jenks was loud in 
 his praises of her fortitude, when he performed the pain- 
 ful operation of moving her arm. He even declared 
 that Clarence, who sat by her side, would do well to 
 take a lesson from her, as his groans were far louder 
 than hers. 
 
 Clarence frankly replied that, if the operation were 
 upon his own arm, they might listen in vain for groan- 
 ing ; but, when it was one he loved dearer than himself 
 who was the sufferer, he might well be excused. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed (he merry doctor; "that's 
 the way the wind blows," tapping the cheek of Alice, 
 whose color rivalled in hue the richest rose. " Well, I 
 can't say but I've had my suspicions. Tears all gone
 
 312 THK HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 now? ley, Alice ? Well," he continued, " I've had in) 
 turn, and young folks must have theirs. Wife and I are 
 spectators to a pretty serious love scene at home, and 1 
 half blame myself for it too." 
 
 " Do tell us about it ! " interrupted Emma. 
 
 " Well," he added, " it is no secret, I suppose. Man- 
 rice has fallen in love with the young girl I carried home 
 for wife to nurse. YoTi saw her, Emma. She didn't 
 need medicine; she only wanted nursing; and how 
 could I be expected to know that Maurice would take 
 such a liking to her ? However, he's really in love this 
 time, and no shamming either ; and in this case he's 
 acted well about it. I saw something had come over 
 the boy; for, instead of being out lounging round in 
 search of nrschief, as he's been too apt to do of late 
 years, he'd sit quietly in the house, and hold yarn for 
 Arny to wind, or read aloud to her and his mother. I 
 guess wife hadn't heard so much reading for many a 
 day. Then he was always ready to do a chore for his 
 mother, till she got alarmed about him, and told me 
 privately, with tears in her eyes, that she was afraid he 
 wouldn't live long, he'd grown to be so dutiful, she'd 
 read of such cases, or else he'd become a Christian. 
 The latter would indeed rejoice our hearts. All 1his 
 while, he'd been so respectful in his manner of treating 
 Amy, that I never thought he was taking that way to 
 make love to her; and one day I talked with him, and 
 asked him if he didn't feel well, and the poor fellow 
 confessed the whole. He'd loved Amy ever since she 
 came to the house; but he never thought of asking her 
 to marry him ; he said he knew he wasn't worthy the
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 love of a pure, virtuous girl. And the; long and short ot 
 it is," continued he* wiping his eyes, " that I hadn't the 
 heart to refuse ray consent, for 1 thought 'twas a good 
 sign, his choosing such a one ; and so I told him there 
 vva'nt a girl, high nor low> I'd rather he'd marry, only 
 he'd got to earn a good character first, for it never should 
 be said of me that I'd encourage my son to ruin the 
 happiness of a girl I'd taken upon me to protect. 
 There! " said he, " I forgot you were not as much inter- 
 ested in my story as I am." 
 
 But his hearers would not consent to be deprived of . 
 the end of the story. " I want to hear how it came out," 
 exclaimed Emma, with an arch smile. 
 
 " I must say," continued lie, " that so far she's had 
 great influence over Maurice, and I hope much from it, 
 though 'twas the farthest thing from my mind when 1 
 carried the poor friendless thing home. But she's a 
 good Christian girl ; and her being Scotch is no objection 
 to me, while to wife it makes all the difference in the 
 world, as she's descended from the Scotch, and she takes 
 to the young stranger wonderfully on tjiat account. 
 I've suspected for a day or two that he's told her some- 
 thing of his feelings; there seems to be a good under- 
 standing between them ; and, if he has, he's told her all. 
 Maurice an't a boy, wild as he has been, to conceal his 
 pranks from a girl he intends to make his wife. By the 
 way, Alice, he is very much ashamed of the familiar 
 manner in which he treated you the afternoon he met 
 you in the street." 
 
 The confusion of the poor girl, as she thought of all 
 the suffering he had caused her, was misunderstood by 
 21
 
 314 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 her friend, and he rose with much ejjiotion, as he said, 
 " Tell me, child, did he offer you any insult ? I under- 
 stood him he was only foolishly complimenting you, and 
 that he persisted in it even when he knew it was annoy- 
 ing. I thought I could depend upon his word," and the 
 father's voice assumed a tone of deep sadness, as he 
 feared his son had deceived him. 
 
 Alice eagerly assured him that Maurice had repre- 
 sented the meeting correctly, and that no one rejoiced in 
 his good conduct more than she did. " He was so kind 
 .to my dear little brother," she added, " that I shall always 
 feel an interest for him." 
 
 Clarence cast down his eyes as she frankly expressed 
 the cause of her interest, and was glad Gertrude was not 
 in the room to be humiliated by the avowal, now that she 
 BO sincerely repented her intention to misrepresent it. 
 
 The shade passed from the brow of the good father, 
 and saying, " My patients will think something has car- 
 tied me off, and they'll all send for Dr. Mason, if I don't 
 hurry," he took a hasty leave.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " Ah me ! 
 
 The world is full of meetings such as this 
 A thrill, a voiceless challenge and reply 
 And sudden partings after ! " Willis. 
 
 IT is qu..te time to introduce the reader to Amy Camp- 
 bell, who had now become so interesting a member of 
 Dr. Jenks's family. The good doctor was one day sum- 
 moned, in great haste, to a patient, and was riding in 
 full speed, when a woman came to the door of a small 
 house, and beckoned him to stop. Learning there was 
 nothing which required immediate attention, he promised 
 to call upon his return. This he did, and found a young 
 girl lying upon the bed. When he entered, she \vas 
 asleep, and, though pale and emaciated, much impressed 
 him with her appearance. Suddenly she started, and in 
 impassioned tones poured forth a long string of " lingo," 
 as the doctor called it, during which he stood by, fearing 
 she'd get her tongue so tightly twisted 'twould never be 
 unloosed. 
 
 The good woman who had taken compassion upon 
 her, said she talked a great deal in her sleep, and always 
 in her native tongue, which was Scotch. She soon 
 awoke, was introduced to the doctor, and gave him her 
 simple history. She was born and brought up in the 
 north of Scotland. Tier father died six months before, 
 
 .315
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 when her uncle came forward and took possession of the 
 estate, having never been pleased with his brother's mar- 
 riage ; so that she and her mother were left destitute, and 
 concluded to seek their fortune in America. With the 
 *mall avails resulting from the sale of such of their furni- 
 ture as their Uncle left them, they intended to hire a few 
 rooms, where they could be together, and support them- 
 selves by fine needle-work and embroidery, which, hereto- 
 fore, they had only performed as an amusement. On the 
 passage to America her mother died of ship-fever, and 
 was buried in the sea but too days before they landed 
 in New York. Amy herself was sick of the same dis- 
 ease, and, when the ship arrived in port, was obliged to 
 be carried to a boarding-house, where she staid until the 
 landlady informed her that her money was all spent, and 
 she must leave. Indeed, the poor girl was glad to do so, 
 for she had not received the kindest treatment. One of 
 her fellow-boarders, however, taking compassion upon 
 the friendless child, advised her to leave the city, and go 
 out in the country in search of a place. She had even 
 interested herself to make up a purse for Amy, and 
 placed her in the cars for A . But, wholly unac- 
 quainted with the country*and its customs, she found 
 herself late one evening wandering along the high road to 
 Queenstown, the small bundle on her arm containing all 
 her store of worldly treasure. Sick and faint she ventured 
 to knock at the door of one or two houses, and timidly 
 ask leave to stay all night, which request was decidedly 
 refused, until, utterly discouraged, the desolate orphan 
 seated herself upon the step of Widow Morse's door, 
 and began to cry. The kind-hearted woman soon dis
 
 IN DISGUISE. 317 
 
 covered her, brought hei into the house, put her to bed, 
 and took care of her. After waiting a few days, and 
 finding that Amy did not recover as fast as she wished, 
 she determined to call in her own physician. After a few 
 visits the doctor became so much interested in her, that 
 he proposed to his wife to take her home, thinking it 
 would be a kindness to both her and the child, as Mrs. 
 Jenks was always very lonely when Maurice was at sea. 
 They supposed he would have gone before this time ; but 
 the vessel in which he last sailed as second mate was 
 under repairs, and he had been delayed week after week. 
 When Alice was able to ride, one of her earliest visits 
 was to Amy Campbell. Nor when she had seen her was 
 she at all surprised that Dr. Jenks, and his wife, as well 
 as their son, had become so warmly attached to her. If 
 one word were used to express the impression she con- 
 veyed to a stranger, it would be purity. Her calm, serene 
 eyes, and pure, white brow, from which her hair was 
 simply parted, and gathered into a braid around her clas- 
 sic head, all betokened a soul at peace. She could not 
 be called handsome, though those who loved her best 
 thought her so. Her skin was very fair, as is generally 
 the case with hair which approaches to red ; her nose 
 was, perhaps, a little too aspiring, but her mouth, though 
 rather wide, was beautifully formed, and displayed a row 
 of teeth of pearly whiteness, which many a dentist might 
 envy for a model. When she spoke, there was just 
 enough of the rich brogue to make hor conversation irre- 
 sistibly charming, while about her whole appearance 
 there was a modesty and dignity which proved that she 
 had been accustomed to good society. Indeed, the few 
 27*
 
 318 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 articles of clothing which she had saved from the wreck 
 of her fortune, showed that she had not always been a 
 dependant. Maurice regarded her with a feeling amount- 
 ing to veneration, and was conscious of an increase of 
 self-respect, that he had been able to win the love of such 
 a being. 
 
 On first meeting Alice he was much embarrassed, as he 
 thought of their last interview ; but, by referring to his 
 affection for Louis, and her own gratitude for his father's 
 services during her late sickness, she soon put him en- 
 tirely at his ease. After some general conversation, they 
 arose to leave, Maurice having promised Emma to bring 
 Amy to Lindenwood before he sailed. They took theii 
 departure, having been much pleased with their call. 
 
 In the meantime Uncle Stephen had received a letter 
 from Mr. Huntinglon, in which he informed him, that 
 having heard of Edith's " misfortune," he had written 
 her, and renewed his proposals of marriage. She, how- 
 ever, though confessing for him a strong affection, firmly 
 declined accepting them. 
 
 Mr. Stanley's family kept up a brisk correspondence 
 with Edith ; or rather they wrote frequently ; she, occa- 
 sionally. When informed by her mother of the betrothal 
 of Alice and Clarence, she wrote a severe critique upon 
 his proceedings. I will quote from her letter : 
 
 " In what you state concerning Clarence and Alice, I 
 cannot say it is wholly unexpected. But as long as she 
 was Alice Carey, he could not be expected to marry her, 
 however much he might love her. I have thought of his 
 conduct as compared with that of his friend, who, when 
 he heard that, from being, as he supposed, the daughter
 
 IN DISGUISE. 319 
 
 of Mr. Stanley, of Lindenwood, 1 was reduced to the 
 situation of child to an insane dependant, lost, no time 
 in urging upon me that affection which I had heretofore 
 so proudly refused. I do not hesitate to say, that such 
 is my respect and admiration of him for the course he 
 pursued, that I should have accepted his proposals, and 
 endeavored to render myself worthy of a place in his 
 noble heart, had it not been for my solemn determination 
 to subject no man I love to the disgrace which has fallen 
 upon me." 
 
 1 cannot give a better idea of the perfect trust Alice 
 reposed in her lover, and the mutual confidence existing 
 between them, than to state that when she had read the 
 letter of Edith, she put it into his hand, with a smile, 
 saying, " Poor girl ! how little she understands our afftc- 
 tion for each other." 
 
 Whatever Clarence thought of the insinuations it con 
 tained, he took no pains to vindicate himself; but Uncle 
 Stephen, whose agitation at Edith's confession of affec- 
 tion for Mr. Huntington, he had been entirely unable 
 to account for, told Alice his ward had asked and ob- 
 tained his consent long before her relation to the family 
 was known. 
 
 " Before that," continued Uncle Stephen, waxing very 
 wrathy, " 1 had concluded, if he didn't marry you, that 1 
 should do it myself." 
 
 This determination created such a roar of laughter that 
 his good humor was entirely restored. Alice put. her 
 arms around his neck, saying, " Dear Uncle Stephen, 
 I'm so glad you didn't ask me, for I shouldn't have dared 
 to say no. The chairs would all have been kicked to
 
 320 THE HOUSEH LD ANGEL 
 
 pieces, and 1 can't say what else would have happened 
 to the furniture, and she gave an arch lock at Clarence. 
 
 " Go along, Puss ! " exclaimed the old man, trying to 
 disengage her arms, " you're growing impudent.'' 
 
 But Alice wouldn't go ; the idea was too amusing, 
 and she laughed and laughed until he was absolutely 
 obliged, he said, to take her in his lap to keep her quiet. 
 
 It was now the first of October, and Alice was to be 
 married at Christmas, her father having given Ins con- 
 sent, on the condition that she should remain at home 
 for a few years. Indeed, it would have been quite a 
 breaking up of the family to have Alice leave, for with 
 her would go also Clarence and Uncle Stephen. Ger- 
 trude had been earnestly invited to accompany a sick 
 friend to the south, for the winter, and she had at length 
 consented to do so. Alice was very unwilling to part 
 with her sister ; but Gertrude whispered, " It is better 
 that I should be away," and Alice urged her no more. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Stanley were intending to journey, and, 
 as they wished to take Emma with them, they hurried 
 their preparations, that they might return before it would 
 be time for him to accompany Gertrude to New York, to 
 meet her friend. 
 
 The few weeks the sisters passed together, were ren- 
 dered delightful by the sincere affection now existing be- 
 tween them. Every evening Clarence read aloud, and 
 both he and Alice avoided, when in her presence, any 
 reference to the deep love which filled their hearts, lest 
 they should pain the one to whom they were so much 
 indebted. 
 
 When about a hundred miles from home, Emma left
 
 IN DISGUISE. &il 
 
 her parents, to see a school-mate, who had long urged 
 her friend to visit her. She was to travel across the 
 country for about fifteen miles in a stage-coach, when 
 her friend would meet her with a carriage, and take her 
 home. Emma had never before journeyed in this way, 
 and for a short time she was much amused by watching 
 the company into which she was thrown. This consisted 
 of an old lady, with a considerable amount of small bag- 
 gage, which reminded Emma of the anecdote she had 
 heard of Hannah Adams, with her " little box, great box, 
 bandbox, and bundle." Certainly the old lady's baggage 
 equalled that of the well-known lady in number, if not in 
 dimensions. She had an umbrella, which was carefully 
 cased in green silk, the bag made wide enough to hold 
 also a parasol. Then she had a large carpet-bag, which re- 
 quired constant care to keep it upright ; as the good lady 
 took pains to inform her fellow-travellers it contained 
 " three bottles of currant wine I'm carrying to my darter." 
 In addition to these articles, she had twisted carefully on 
 her arm the strings of two smaller bags, saying, with an 
 expressive nod to Emma, as she jerked them, " So as not 
 to lose them, you know." But her greatest care seemed 
 to be a cap-box, which, having nothing to hold by, was 
 continually slipping from her lap, until her young com- 
 panion, taking pity upon her distress, kindly offered to 
 relieve her of this part of her burden. The old lady was 
 so much pleased with this attention, that she confiden- 
 tially informed her that it contained, in addition " to the 
 caps I generally wear on great occasions, a bran new one 
 which I bought just before I left home, as my darter is 
 exposed to a sight o' company."
 
 322 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Sitting opposite Emma were two girls near her own 
 age, dressed in the height of fashion, who at first regarded 
 the elderly lady with illy-concealed contempt ; but. at 
 .ength, wearied with the monotony of the ride, they 
 turned toward her, after a few moments of whispering 
 during which Emma plainly distinguished the word 
 fun." 
 
 Occupying the same seat with our young traveller, 
 but separated from her by a boy apparently of a dozen 
 summers, was a gentleman, of whom, as she sat by his 
 side, she had as yet seen nothing, except the color of his 
 pantaloons, which, from a casual glance, she perceived 
 were of the finest broadcloth. The back seat was occu- 
 pied by a child, and two coarse looking men. 
 
 The girls soon made their purpose apparent to all but 
 the object of their especial attention. Totally unsuspic- 
 ious of their cruel design, and supposing from their dress 
 that they were ladies, the aged woman greatly facilitated 
 their wishes, and threw herself completely into their 
 power. They soon drew from her her name, which was 
 Fowler ; where she lived, that she had been a widow 
 eight years, that she was left with two children, Ralph 
 and Julia, and enough property to carry her in comfort 
 to the end of her life. Under the pretence of great inter- 
 est in her welfare, they continued to ask her many insult- 
 ing questions, until Emma, whose countenance had ex- 
 pressed her strong indignation, could bear it no longer, 
 and was just about to speak, when the bag containing 
 the wine fell to the floor. The old lady caught it up in 
 terror, fearing the bottles were broken. One of the young 
 g/rls, "trying to conceal her mirth, proposed that she
 
 IN DISGUISE. 323 
 
 should treat the company, saying, " I am very fond of 
 currant wine, and I dare say your darter would never miss 
 it." 
 
 " Yes," called out one of the men from the back seat, 
 ' I second that motion." 
 
 The good woman glanced from one to another, as if 
 bewildered, to find herself made an object of ridicule, 
 while Emma, with an indignant glance at the offenders, 
 said in a kind, but firm voice, " Madam, would it not be 
 well for you to change places with me. I think I can 
 ensure you my seat free from insult." Emma afterwards 
 remembered that the gentleman in the corner rose up as 
 if about to speak, but, upon hearing her, instantly re- 
 sumed his seat. 
 
 It was really pitiable to witness the disappointment of 
 the honest old lady, when she found the girls had been 
 questioning her for their own amusement. 
 
 When Emma had accomplished her purpose, and they 
 were seated so that they could converse conveniently, 
 Mrs. Fowler said to her companion, " It's really affecting 
 to see two girls as nicely dressed as they are, know noth- 
 ing more of good manners. For my part I'm astonished 
 that their folks didn't teach them better, or else keep 
 them shut up at home, where they could do no harm." 
 As she thought of her free communications to them, es- 
 pecially the account of her husband's sickness and death, 
 about which they had pretended such sympathy, the kind 
 lady could not help weeping. 
 
 Her companion at first tried to divert her attention to 
 the beautiful view from the coach window, but, finding 
 she had really taken the matter to heart, she said, "Deal
 
 324 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 madam, believe me, their conduct cannot injure you. It 
 irf really beneath your notice." Then, having prevailed 
 upon her to allow the bag containing the wine to be 
 placed between herself and the boy, where it could stand 
 firmly, she gradually drew her into a conversation upon 
 general topics, which, after a time, proved of interest to 
 all present. If the intention of the rude girls to exhibit 
 her for the sake of ridiculing her peculiarities had been 
 apparent, the desire of Emma to represent her in the 
 most favorable light, was not less so. By bringing for- 
 ward themes which were familiar, Emma soon discov- 
 ered a fund of good sense in her aged companion, soft- 
 ened by many years of experience, which were a real 
 treat to her. She found, too, that Mrs. Fowler was a 
 humble, trusting child of God, and this was a new tie 
 between them. 
 
 When they drew near the place where the young lady 
 was to meet her friend, it was with real regret that she 
 thought of the parting, and she frankly expressed her feel- 
 ing, which was warmly reciprocated by her companion, 
 who, with old-fashioned hospitality, urged her to come to 
 P and make her a long visit. 
 
 When Emma reached her destination, in turning to 
 look for her bag which she had placed at her feet, she 
 caught a glimpse of the gentleman who had occupied 
 the corner seat, but whose presence even she had forgot' 
 ten, so absorbed had she been by her interest in her fel- 
 low traveller. In that one glance she perceived that he 
 had a fine, intellectual cast of countenance, with a pierc- 
 ing black eye, above which rose a perfectly magnificent
 
 IN DISGUISE. 325 
 
 forehead. He had changed his seat, that he might the 
 more readily listen to their animated conversation. 
 
 The moment the coach stopped, he sprang from it, and 
 politely assisted her to descend the steps, saying, as she 
 waited for her trunk, " It would greatly add to the obli- 
 gation I am under, if you would give me a name by 
 which my mother and myself can recur to a ride so fruit- 
 ful of interest to both of us." 
 
 Though much embarrassed by the respectful admira- 
 tion expressed by the gentleman, Emma could not refuse 
 so reasonable a request, and, hastily passing him her 
 card, and bowing a final adieu to the old lady, who was 
 leaning from the coach window, she hastened to meet 
 her friend, who had been eagerly calling her from a car- 
 riage standing near. 
 
 The sight of a beautiful phaeton, with a noble span of 
 prancing horses, rather induced the supposition in her 
 younger companions that they had been mistaken in the 
 station they had, in fancy, allotted her in the social scale 
 From her simple, though elegant travelling dress, so dit' 
 ferent from their rich, changeable silks, and her modest, 
 unassuming deportment, they had set her down as a 
 teacher, or certainly one in moderate circumstances, es- 
 pecially as she had taken such pains to interest herself in 
 the welfare of a garrulous old lady. They were quite as 
 much surprised as she had been, at the discovery of the. 
 relation existing between her and the distinguished look- 
 ing gentleman who was seated in the opposite corner, 
 and their checks burned with shame as they remembered 
 what fun they had made of her little Ralph, asking 
 whether he went barefoot they had heard that was con- 
 28
 
 826 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 sidered more healthy. They would willingly have given 
 up on ; night at the theatre, could they but glance at the 
 name upon the small card, which the gentleman had 
 placed so carefully in his pocket-book, when the phaston 
 containing the giver was no longer in sight. But they 
 were obliged to cover their confusion as well as they could 
 by a show of indifference, until the coach again stopped 
 at an elegant mansion, and a really beautiful lady came 
 smilingly to the door, with a lovely child in her arms, to 
 welcome her mother and brother. 
 
 It was evidently with some difficulty that the old .ady 
 refrained from some parting remark to the girls who had 
 so rudely insulted her ; but contenting herself with a 
 look of triumph as she saw them glance with astonish- 
 ment at her destination, she carefully gathered up her 
 various articles of baggage, and left them to their reflec- 
 tions, Mr. Fowler bowing with great dignity as the coach 
 drove away.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 H On you, most loved, with anxious fear I wait, 
 And from your judgment must expect my fate." 
 
 Addison, 
 
 AFTER a delightful week with her friend, Emma took 
 the returning coach for home, and it must be confessed, 
 as she passed slowly over the dusty road, her thoughts 
 often recurred to the travelling companions, from whom 
 she had so recently parted, with interest. The intellect- 
 ual countenance of Mr. Ralph Fowler (she well remem- 
 bered the name), was firmly daguerreotyped upon her 
 memory, while recollections of the quaint expressions of 
 the warm-hearted old lady, often brought a smile to hei 
 lips. But she had never been able to account satisfactor- 
 ily to herself for the fact that he had not come forward 
 to the relief of his mother, as he would naturally be ex- 
 pected to do. 
 
 But all her queries, and all her remembrances, were lor 
 the time forgotten, when she reached home, and found 
 Gertrude on the point of starting for New York with 
 her father, who had arrived with her mother a few days 
 earlier. Then came preparations for the wedding of Alice, 
 which occupied all her time, and all her thoughts ; for,' 
 though the young bride was very simple in her tastes, yet 
 Uncle Stephen determined that the bridal trosseau should 
 be worthy of her; and he had put into Mrs. Stanley'* 
 hands a generous sum for the purpose. With Ihe con- 
 
 327
 
 328 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 sent and approbation of her mother, he also determined 
 to refurnish for his child, as he now called Alice, two of 
 the suite of rooms he and Clarence had occupied. These 
 consisted of a spacious apartment, over the large parlor, 
 ivhich they had used as a private sitting-room. Out of 
 this were two bed-rooms which opened into a side-hall, 
 or into the front hall through the large room. He also 
 wished to throw out a bow-window corresponding to the 
 one in the room below, which had always been such a 
 favorite resort with Alice, and which would not only add 
 to the beauty of the house, but would give a fine view 
 of the town from the window. 
 
 There was a vast deal of mystery in all this to Alice, 
 who had been required to promise that she would Got 
 venture within the limits of Uncle Stephen's premises. 
 When asked her preference with regard to furniture, she 
 laughingly replied that, as he was to live with them, she 
 had but one wish to express concerning it, which was 
 that it might be strong. But seeing that he looked grave 
 and mortified, she instantly begged him to forgive her, 
 eaying : " I do believe so much kindness, and so much 
 happiness are not good for me. I am really growing to 
 be wanting, in respect, to my dearest Uncle." 
 
 "My child," replied the old gentleman, softly, " You 
 shall never have occasion to complain of me in that way 
 again ; " and he kept his word. 
 
 In the midst of the bustle of preparation, Alice found 
 time every few days for a ride on Felix to the village, 
 though it required much pleading on her part before 
 either Clarence or her parents would consent that she 
 should resume her favorite exercise, which had proved so
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 neaiiy fatal. But she longed to visit her protege's, who 
 had considerably increased in number, and at length she 
 gained their relu3tant consent. Mrs. Hayden's cough 
 caused her much anxiety, and when she consulted the 
 Doctor about her, he only shook his head. Minnie was 
 growing every day more interesting, and the accounts 
 from Dexter's teacher as to his progress were very flatter- 
 ing. Now, however, the Preceptor who had kept the 
 Academy for many years, and who had taken such a 
 pleasure in aiding his young pupil, was making arrange- 
 ments to pass the winter in Charleston, S. C., on account 
 of a bronchial difficulty; and Alice feared his successor 
 would not feel a corresponding interest in him. She 
 had procured a number of elementary books for Minnie, 
 and at every successive visit the child was anxious to ex- 
 hibit her progress. Dexter also took unwearied pains 
 with her pronunciation, which was uncommonly distinct 
 for so young a child. 
 
 As Maurice had now sailed for the East Indies, Alice 
 must also call occasionally to cheer Amy in his absence ; 
 and this, in addition to three families in which slit" dis- 
 tributed the bounty of Uncle Stephen, fully occupied her 
 time. One evening, however, near the middle of No- 
 vember, she consented to accompany the family from 
 Lindenwood to an opening lecture before the Lyceum, 
 which course had commenced under the most Mattering 
 auspices. Her father, mother, Emma and Clarence were 
 of the party, and though they arrived early, the spacious 
 new hali was filled to over/lowing. It was with some 
 difficulty that they obtained scats more than two-thirds 
 back from the rostrum. When the lecturer arose, Kiiima, 
 28*
 
 0-')0 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 who was seated next her sister, gave a sudJen start, 
 while a bright flush of pleasure spread all over her coun- 
 tenance. She recognized Mr. Ralph Fowler, her travel- 
 ling companion, and when he, with a quick glance around 
 the large audience, let his keen eye rest for one brief mo- 
 ment upon her, Alice was entirely at a loss to conceive 
 the cause of her sister's sudden confusion. On her re- 
 turn home, Emma had, indeed, recounted her adventure 
 with the old lady, but a secret interest, unacknowledged 
 even to herself, had prevented any reference to the son. 
 
 But soon the speaker was lost in his subject, and 
 proved himself to be gifted with no common mind or or- 
 dinary acquirements. At the close of the lecture, and 
 when all were loud in their praises of the performance. 
 Mr. Fowler was eagerly sought by the principal gentle- 
 men of the town, that they might express to him their 
 high gratification in his manner of treating his sub- 
 ject. He listened politely, but all the time had his eye 
 upon a group who had been detained in their passage 
 out. 
 
 Emma turned for one parting glance ; their eyes met, 
 and he instantly excused himself from the gentlemen 
 near him, as he wished to speak with an acquaintance 
 who was leaving the hall. 
 
 The young girl received him cordially, though with 
 considerable confusion ; introduced him to her family, 
 and then inquired for his mother. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, " I had like to have forgotten a mes- 
 sage she sent you," and leaning forward he spoke a few 
 words in a low tone. The teacher of the Academy then 
 approached and informed Mr. Stanley, with whom he
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 331 
 
 was well acquainted, that he hoped to be so happy as tc 
 secure Mr. Fowler's services in the school during his 
 absence. 
 
 After a polite invitation to the lecturer to call upon 
 them, Mr. Stanley and his family took their departure, 
 eager to ascertain from Emma the commencement of 
 her acquaintance with the distinguished stranger. 
 
 So cordially did Mr. Fowler answer his invitation to 
 Lindenwood that the next day, and the next, and every 
 day, for a week, he might be found sitting in the large 
 parlor, entirely unmindful of the vigorous hammering 
 that was going on over his head. Emma often com- 
 plained, with a heightened color, that it was very incon- 
 venient to have so constant a visitor, when there was so 
 much to be done ; but if he were a few moments later 
 than usual, her frequent journeys to the bow window, 
 from whence she could see some distance up the street, 
 or the sudden beating of her heart when she heard his 
 well-known step in the hall, convinced her friends that 
 she was willing to be subjected to the inconvenience, 
 for the sake of the pleasure she received in his society. 
 
 Nor was she alone in this feeling, for he had rendered 
 himself a favorite with every member of the family. 
 His large fund of information, as well as his extensive 
 knowledge of human nature, convinced Mr. Stanley 
 that he would not always be teacher in a private acad- 
 emy ; but, when he hinted his surprise that Mr. Fowler 
 should content himself with such a situation, the abrupt 
 termination of the subject showed plainly that it waa 
 one upon which he did not wish to speak. 
 
 ii his sole business in Queenstown had been to pros-
 
 332 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 ecute his acquaintance at Lindenwood, he cou d not 
 have been more constant in his visits. When, at the 
 close of the first week, the time for his labors in the 
 academy arrived, he suddenly discovered that premature 
 engagements would not allow him to assume that re- 
 sponsibility, and gave place to another, whom he recom- 
 mended as well qualified for the office. And when, a 
 few days later, he sought an interview with Mr. Stanley, 
 and asked permission to address his daughter Emma, 
 the proposition was not wholly unexpected ; but he 
 replied that their acquaintance had been short, and, as 
 yet, they knew little of each other. 
 
 Mr. Fowler professed himself to be perfectly satisfied, 
 but said that, of course, he could not expect Mr. Stanley 
 to be so, and gave him references to a dozen literary 
 gentlemen, to whom he could refer. On receiving the 
 most satisfactory information from two of these gentle- 
 men, the father no longer hesitated to give his consent 
 to the ardent lover ; and when, at the wedding of Alice, 
 Emma stood up with Mr. Fowler, it was as his be- 
 trothed. 
 
 The event of the marriage of Mr. Clarence Sydney 
 with the daughter of Squire Stanley was one of no little 
 interest in the village of Queenstown ; and when, in 
 compliance with the cards of invitation, a large company 
 assembled at Lindenwood, the brilliant illumination, the 
 beauty of the bride, the pride of the groom as he entered 
 with his fair lady leaning upon his arm, the profusion of 
 orange-flowers, the richness of the cake, the fondness of 
 her father and mother, the pleased emotion of Uncle 
 Stephen, were the universal themes of conversation.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney had only the day before her marriage 
 hern introduced to her bridal apartments, and she found 
 ii difficult to realize the change wrought in so short a 
 time. It was truly a fairy scene as Alice first viewed it, 
 with its decorations so brilliantly brought to view by the 
 lights from the large chandelier, with its diamond-shaped 
 pendants. 
 
 Within the arch formed by the bow-window, from 
 which hung rich damask curtains, giving a roseate hue 
 to all around, stood a small, carved chair before a table 
 of exquisite workmanship. This table contained the 
 most elaborate materials for sewing, writing, and draw- 
 tug ; and in a partly open drawer was a letter written to 
 herself, addressed " To my little almoner." 
 
 Alice well knew by whom that letter was written. 
 
 On many accounts, Mr. Stanley was disappointed 
 that Edith had not accepted the earnest invitation to be 
 present at the wedding of Alice. He had hoped much 
 from her visit at such a time to break down her pride 
 and unwillingness to accept a home from those who 
 were so eager to offer her one. There was another 
 reason why he had anxiously expected her. This was 
 the fact that her mother, who had left her home, for the 
 first time for many years, soon after Alice had been 
 made acquainted with her deception, had lately returned 
 in an enfeebled state of health ; and he was extremely 
 anxious that a reconciliation should take place between 
 them. But Edith only wrote in reply that the school 
 was still in session, and her time was not now her own. 
 
 A few weeks after the wedding, Alice Sydney had 
 joined her mother and sister in the parlor, when the
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 servant who had been sent to the office for lei ers re 
 turned with a goodly budget of news. Emma blush 
 ingly held out her hand for her "share, when her father., 
 who that moment entered, passed her a thick envelop*, 
 containing, as Alice playfully remarked, a brotherly note 
 to each of the family, and also a copy of the last New 
 York Journal of Commerce, directed by the same hand. 
 This she hastily tore open, and, seeing nothing of special 
 interest to her, gave it to her father to read, while she 
 retired to her own room for the uninterrupted enjoyment 
 of her precious epistle. She had not more than half 
 perused its closely written pages before Alice ran to call 
 her, exclaiming, " Emma, father wants you to come 
 down." 
 
 Thrusting her letter into her pocket, Emma obeyed, 
 and found the whole family very merry over a small 
 paragraph in the Journal, which, though marked with a 
 pencil, she had overlooked. It was as follows : " We 
 understand that the next lecture before the Historical 
 Society will be delivered on Thursday evening, by Prof. 
 Ralph Fowler, who has, within a year, been appointed 
 
 to the Professorship of Languages in College, and 
 
 is one of the most popular lecturers of the day. A rich 
 literary feast may be expected." 
 
 " Really," said Mr. Stanley, smiling, as he witnessed 
 the bright glow which overspread Emma's face, " my 
 daughters are getting up in the world. Here, without 
 knowing it, we have been entertaining the distinguished 
 Prof. Fowler, who is one of the best linguists in the 
 country. I had it at my tongue's end, two or three 
 times, to ask if he were a relative. Prof. B. and Dr. S
 
 IN DISGl 1SE. Ui 
 
 must have thought me either an ignoramus, or w.ry 
 much behind ihe times, to inquire the character of such 
 a man ; " and a slight shade of annoyance mingled with 
 his laugh, as he went to his study to bring forth the 
 letters from those gentlemen for a second reading. 
 
 Jn the mean time, it would be difficult to describe the 
 fond pride which this announcement caused in the heart 
 of the gentle, loving girl, as, at the same time, she 
 remembered " He is mine ; yes, he is all my own. Not- 
 withstanding his elevated position, he sought me in 
 preference to all others ; " and she hastened to her room 
 with quickened pulse, to finish reading her letter. Near 
 the close, or rather crossing the writing near the top, and 
 filling up every inch of the blank space, were a few 
 lines explanatory of the information contained in the 
 Journal. It ran thus : " And now, dearest, will you for- 
 give me for my little deception, or rather that I did not 
 tell you the whole truth. Had your father asked me 
 how I expected to support my wife, I should have told 
 him ; or, if you had seemed curious to know where you 
 were to live, or with whom associate, most certainly I 
 should have informed you. But your entire trust in me 
 was so charming, and your respected father's confidoiu-f 
 so flattering, that, while I knew I was not deceiving hir 
 or you, I was pleased with the thought that time would 
 discover to you my situation and prospects, though it 
 never can, my true-hearted Emma, the depth and fer- 
 vency of my affection. 
 
 " But I would say that, in rny opinion, unlimited con- 
 fidence is the only safeguard between husband and wile-. 
 S^ot this, then, be our last and only secret; henceioi IA
 
 336 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 my heart, with ali it- thoughts and wishes, its joys atci 
 sorrows, shall he laid open to you ; and I trust by the 
 constancy of my lov- to prove myself not unworthy the 
 same confidence on } our part, I suppose, long ere this. 
 you have ' guessed,' and rightly too, that my only in- 
 ducement in going to lecture in Queenstown was to 
 prosecute my acquaintance with you ; my only business 
 there, after farther knowledge of your character, to obtain 
 the promise of your hand. And now, my own dear 
 Emma, inclosed you will find a note to your father, 
 begging him to place no impediment in the way of our 
 immediate union. Do not hesitate to grant my request. 
 There is no reasonable ground of delay. There is a fine 
 house connected with my professorship, all ready and 
 waiting for its mistress. My mother (only second to 
 one I could name in her admiration of you) and sister 
 are longing to bid you welcome by the dear names of 
 daughter and sister. Let me, then, rejoice their hearts 
 by telling them that in the course of a month (I take 
 great credit to myself for allowing so much time to be 
 necessary for bridal preparations) they must be ready to 
 accompany me to Lindenwood." 
 
 Oh, those were blissful tears which dropped so thickly 
 Upon the closely written page, and they welled up from 
 a heart full of gratitude to her heavenly Father for giving 
 her so dear a friend, and appointing her lot <n so pleasant 
 a place ! 
 
 After sitting in a dreamy attitude for neany an hour, 
 vainly trying to fix her thoughts upon any one subject 
 in the letter, and as often finding them settling Hack to 
 the one blessed conviction of his love, she took f . u note
 
 IN DISGUISE. 337 
 
 in her hand directed to her father. It was unsealed, but 
 ,?he had not a thought of perusing it. What would her 
 father say to bo so suddenly called to give her up ? "A 
 month!" she thought; "oh, I can't, I caw'*/" and, in 
 the tumult of feeling caused by this thought, she lost all 
 courage to present the note to her father, and stole gently 
 down the stairs to find an opportunity to leave it on his 
 study-table. She was fortunate in finding his door 
 open ; and, placing the letter in a conspicuous position, 
 she hastily withdrew. 
 
 When, that night, her father was engaged in family 
 prayer, Emma well knew that he had read the earnest 
 request of her lover, and that he dreaded the coming 
 separation. His emotion choked him as he referred to 
 the breaking up of the home ties which bound them 
 together, and he prayed that, though parents and chil- 
 dren might be separated for a time in this world, they 
 might so live as to be united eternally in the world of 
 spirits. 
 
 Already much softened by the thought, Emma sobbed 
 aloud ; and when, after prayer, her father requested her 
 to accompany him to his study, she was for a few 
 moments wholly overcome by his unusual tenderness. 
 He waited for her to become more composed, when he 
 gently took her hand, as he said, " I suppose you know 
 the subject of this letter." 
 
 She bowed her assent. 
 
 What shall I tell him ? " 
 
 After a vain attempt to speak, Emma shook her head 
 
 " May I decide for you ? " 
 
 " I will gladly leave it to you." 
 29
 
 338 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " Well, then, I shall tell him I cannot give up my child 
 so suddenly. I must have time to accustom myself to 
 the thought. Not that that will render it any the le.ss 
 painful; but, on many accounts, it would be better to 
 have more time. I have always disapproved of ha^ty 
 marriages. It is now the middle of winter Gertrude will 
 be home in April. Shall I say the first day of May ? " 
 
 Emma cast down her eyes as she whispered, " If you 
 think best." 
 
 " I suppose," continued Mr. Stanley, pleasantly, " I 
 shall be considered very hard-hearted to refuse so earnest 
 an appeal ; but I shall invite him to pass his long vaca- 
 tion with us, and we will try to help him bear the disap 
 pointment as well as we can." 
 
 " Thank you, dear father," replied Emma, as he ten- 
 derly kissed her, and allowed her to withdraw, when she 
 retired to her mother's room, and, with many blushes, 
 told her what had passed. 
 
 As Alice returned one afternoon from a sleigh-ride 
 with her husband, she found Uncle Stephen in his room, 
 and in tears. Without waiting to take off her bonnet, 
 she went instantly to him, and sat on a low stool at his? 
 feet. 
 
 " Wont you let me share your grief? " she asked, look- 
 ing up lovingly in his face. 
 
 " They are not tears of sorrow, my child," he answered, 
 putting a letter into her hand. 
 
 It was from Alfred Huntington, and informed his kind 
 benefactor that, after many struggles and conflicts with 
 himself, he had determined to go out to India, directly 
 after his graduation from the theological school, which
 
 IN DISGUISE. 339 
 
 would be in less than a year, and devote his life to the 
 service of his Saviour, in laboring for the conversion of 
 the heathen. " My object in writing you at this time, is 
 to ask your advice whether I shall offer myself to the 
 Board of Missions, or join my father in the mission sup- 
 ported by you. Of course it would be my desire to do 
 the latter ; but I know nothing of the expense necessary, 
 and am unwilling to tax your generosity farther. There 
 is one subject, too, which troubles me, if I take the first 
 course, and apply to the Board. That is with reference 
 to my going alone, which, I have been informed, they 
 object to, or that they much prefer their missionaries shall 
 be married men. There is only one woman I have ever 
 loved, and as I cannot marry her, I must go alone. This 
 is another reason why it would be desirable that I should 
 go into my father's family." 
 
 Alice read the letter with great interest, and put it 
 back into his hand without speaking. 
 
 " It's what I've been praying for ever since he was a 
 boy," sobbed Uncle Stephen, wholly overcome, " and to 
 see how God answers all my poor prayers, makes me feel 
 more insignificant than ever. About poor Edith," he con- 
 tinued, when he was more composed, " I'm afraid the boy 
 will have to give her up, though sometimes I think God 
 has mercies in store for her, and has ordered all this to 
 humble her proud heart." 
 
 !> ' dele Stephen ! How often he repeated, for the 
 nr.v. days, that lie had nothing more to ask for, and 
 the influence of that communication seemed to open his 
 heart to the wants of the needy more than ever. Though 
 by his connection with the family a very handsome sum
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 was added to' its yearly income, certainly quite as much 
 as his nephew would accept ; yet his own expenses were 
 not a tithe to the interest from his large fortune. He 
 often said to Alice, who was his only confidant, " Draw 
 freely, child ; the more is taken out, the fuller the bank 
 is." And so, indeed, it seemed to be. No one could do 
 him a greater favor than to place in his way a deserving 
 object of charity. He had been in the habit for years, 
 beside the entire support of his own mission among the 
 Hindoos, of sending large sums to the benevolent societies 
 of the day ; but his own chosen way was to seek out 
 destitute objects, and administer to their relief. If they 
 were worthy, that was sufficient ; if unworthy, he would 
 plead " So much the more reason they should be helped 
 to do well." No suffering child of Adam was ever re- 
 fused sympathy by him. But if he found that he had 
 been imposed upon, or that any person whom he had be- 
 friended made his money subservient to their own vices, 
 he was terribly wrathy, and could not be appeased until 
 a more worthy object was placed in his way.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " Who born so poor, 
 Of intellect so mean, as not to know 
 What seemed the best ; and knowing, not to do * 
 As not to know what God and conscience bade, 
 And what they bade not able to obey ? " Pollock. 
 
 DURING the week following the events related in the 
 last chapter, the family at Lindenwood were startled at 
 midnight by a loud knocking at the outer door. Mr. 
 Stanley soon answered the summons, and found a coun- 
 tryman standing upon the steps, with a cart-whip in hia 
 hand, the butt end of which had so quickly aroused the 
 sleeping household. 
 
 " Is Mr. Stanley at home ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, I am he." 
 
 " Well, there's a young gal at our house that's aa 
 crazy as a loon. We couldn't find out all day yesterday 
 who she was, nor where she came from ; but my woman, 
 by dint o' coaxing and threatening, persuaded her to go 
 to bed ; and then she looked in her pockets and found all 
 her things were marked ' Edith Stanley.' In her pocket- 
 book, which I have brought along," passing it to Mr. 
 Stanley, " I found her direction, and the doctor I called 
 to her last night, thinking she'd run away in a crazy fit 
 sent me for you." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley and Emma had arisen from bed, hastily 
 
 29* 341
 
 342 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 thrown on their wrappers, and were standing at the head 
 of the stairs. Mr. Stanley was just going to speak, when 
 his wife interrupted him, " Let us go at once." 
 
 " Yes," he replied, promptly ; " but I must '.inquire 
 where it is." 
 
 " How soon can you be ready ? " asked the man. 
 
 " In half an hour." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll wait and go with you. You mightn't 
 find the place in the dark." 
 
 Without waiting for further questions, Mr. Stanley, 
 after inviting the countryman into the house, proceeded 
 at once to call the coachman, while his wife, and Emma, 
 who begged to accompany her mother, hastily prepared 
 for their midnight excursion. In little more than half an 
 hour they were on their way, the man who had come for 
 them riding by the side of the carriage, Mrs. Stanley 
 having left with Alice the charge of preparing Nurse 
 Carey for the intelligence, as they intended, if possible, 
 to bring Edith back with them on the following day. 
 The distance to Planesville was but ten miles ; but they 
 were obliged to travel so slowly in the dark, and the lat- 
 ter part of the way, for nearly two miles, over a new and 
 by-road, that it was four o'clock before they heard the 
 guide who was just in advance of them, say, " This is 
 the house. You go right in and I '11 put up your horses 
 Wife'll be expectin' of you." 
 
 Longing, yet dreading to know the situation of the 
 poor girl, Mr. Stanley hastily assisted his wife and daugh- 
 ter from the carriage ; but just as Emma reached the 
 ground a dreadful shriek of distress from the small house 
 before them, caused their hearts to sink with sudden ter-
 
 IN DISGUISE. ". l.'J 
 
 ror. .Mrs. Stanley darted forward. There was a bright 
 light in the lower room, and they could see at a glance 
 what was going on within. The figure of some person 
 lay extended upon the bed, and a man was standing In-- 
 fore her, his form concealing her face, trying to hoKi 
 do\vn her arms. A young woman, holding an infant, 
 her countenance expressive of the utmost alarm, stood 
 back from them. Upon the approach of .Mrs. Stanley, 
 who entered first and announced herself, the poor woman 
 burst into tears. 
 
 The physician soon recounted the state in which he 
 had found his patient, and the measures he had adopted. 
 He said she was suffering from a sudden and violent fit 
 of insanity, produced, perhaps, in part by the high fever 
 under which she was laboring. He then asked if there 
 was anything which could have tended to such a state. 
 
 Mr. Stanley drew him into the neat kitchen, and gave 
 him a brief account of her history, and also communica- 
 ted the fact of her mother having been partially insane 
 for many years, owing to her remorse of conscience, but 
 that, since the confession of her guilt, she had appeared 
 perfectly rational. 
 
 Doctor Putnam listened with interest, and then said, 
 " It may be the agitation of mind which has occasioned 
 this; but I feared congestion of the brain." 
 
 The question of her being carried to Lindenwood 
 was then discussed, the doctor inferring from her violence 
 that it would not be safe, but that she ought to be car- 
 ried to an asylum for the insane. To this proposition, 
 however, Mr. Stanley would not for one moment hearken, 
 a* least not until they had tried other means for hei
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGKL 
 
 restoration; and, as there were no accommodation a 
 where they were, it was determined to return home with 
 her as soon as it was light. 
 
 In the meantime, Mrs. Stanley, having laid aside 
 her bonnet, had calmly approached the sufferer, and, 
 taking a cloth wet with cool water, bathed her burning 
 brow. The poor girl was still unconscious, or rather 
 wandering ; but the soft voice and gentle hand of her 
 mother seemed to soothe her, for she became more quiet, 
 and soon fell asleep, for the first time through the night. 
 Beckoning the 'woman into the small entry, Emma 
 asked, in a whisper, how she came there, and received 
 the following account. 
 
 " Yesterday morning," said the woman, " though it 
 seems like a week, I had just dressed my baby, and was 
 getting her to sleep, so that 1 could do up my morning 
 chores, when I heard a low knock at the door. I called 
 out, softly, ' Come in,' for baby was just dropping off, 
 and she," pointing toward the room, " came right in. 
 She seemed to have an idea that somebody was after 
 her; and, when Joshua, that's my husband, who went 
 after you, happened to go by the window, she t^ave a 
 dreadful scream, and hid behind the door. 1 was scared 
 enough ; but I didn't dare to let her know it, for fear 
 she'd hurt the baby, and so I told her she was safe, 
 and asked who she was afraid of. She grew calmer 
 after a while, and asked me for something to eat. I got 
 her a bowl of milk and some bread ; but she never 
 tasted the bread. The bowl she raised to her mouth, 
 and, when she put it down, she'd drained every drop. 
 Twas the fever burning then, the doctor says. After
 
 IN DISGUISE. 3A5 
 
 that, she begun to tell that she was trying to find some- 
 body I couldn't rightly make out who he was, or where 
 he lived, but his first name was Alfred ; and she's kept 
 screaming ' Alfred ! ' 'most all night. Whoever he is, 
 the poor thing loves him; and she's asked him a hun- 
 dred times to forgive her, and said, ' I love you now, 
 and always loved you, and that's the reason I wont ruin 
 you.' 
 
 " After a while, she let it out that she had walked al. 
 night, and asked if she might lie down on my bed. I 
 put on clean sheets, with my baby sleeping on my arm, 
 for 1 was afraid to lay it down a minute, the poor crea- 
 ture's eyes glared so wild. As soon as she fell asleep, I 
 went out to the barn, and called in Joshua, and told him 
 I was afraid to stay with her. if he is my man, I imv:t 
 say he's the most willingest fellow to do anything I ever 
 saw. He come right in, and, excepting a little while 
 when he went out to feed the cattle and milk, he didn't 
 leave the house until he started for you, and then the 
 doctor was here. When she woke up, it was nearly 
 noon, and then she was raving like a mad creature ; and 
 Jo.shua had as much as he could do to hold her hands, 
 and keep her from injuring herself. I was just getting 
 ready to go after the doctor, and carry my baby with me, 
 though its more'n a mile, when one of our neighbors 
 rode along in his cart. He was going right by the 
 doctor's, and he said he'd stop there. I wouldn't have 
 staid alone with her for nothing. The doctor had gone 
 oil' three mile from home, and never got here till dusk, 
 and all that time she'd talked just as fast as she could 
 talk. She'd call out, ' Father! mother!' and then burst
 
 346 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 out a crying, Baying she hadn't got any father or mother, 
 or any body else to love her. It made my blood run 
 cold to hear her then, for she'd kind of curse herself and 
 her mother, when she'd just said she hadn't got one, and 
 she almost cursed her Maker. But in a few minutes 
 that would all be over, and she'd be keeping a school. 
 When Dr. Putnam come, he said we must get her into 
 bed. She'd got on her clothes just as she come in, only 
 her bonnet ; and so Joshua took the baby into the 
 kitchen, while the doctor helped me put my best night- 
 gown on her, not a very nice one, but 'twas clean ; and 
 a hard task we had of it to get her to bed. When I 
 took her clothes to hang them up, I happened to think 
 perhaps she'd got something in her pocket that would 
 tell who she was ; and so she had. Dr. Putnam said 
 he'd stay here while Joshua went for you." 
 
 "And have you held your babe all night?" asked 
 Emma, looking at the pale countenance of the kind 
 woman. 
 
 " Oh, yes, miss ! There wa'n't any place handy for me 
 to lie down, and then I couldn't be spared." 
 
 All this time Emma and her companion had sat to- 
 gether on the low steps leading to the attic; but at a 
 slight noise in the room, they both started up and entered. 
 Edith muttered incoherently, and the Doctor shook his 
 head as he placed his fingers gently on her pulse. " If she 
 is to be carried away from here, it must be done at once," 
 he said. 
 
 But for an hour she was so violent that they found it 
 would be impossible to carry her in the small carriage in 
 which they had come. Mr. Stanley therefore ooncluded
 
 IN DISGUISE. 347 
 
 to go withoul delay to Lindenwood with Emma, and 
 return with the large carriage, and a driver, so that he 
 could be entirely at liberty to attend to her. When he 
 mentioned his plan to the Doctor, he suggested an im- 
 provement, which was, that Joshua Goodwin should 
 drive his daughter to Queenstown, while he remained 
 with his wife, as he should be obliged to leave and visit 
 his other patients. 
 
 This was decided upon, and by noon Joshua came 
 back with the double carriage into which Emma had 
 put a bed and pillows. The Doctor, who had returned, 
 gave her a powerful anodyne, and then assisted Mr. Stan- 
 ley to place her in the carriage. 
 
 Having most liberally rewarded their good host and 
 hostess for the disinterested kindness they had shown 
 to the poor lunatic, Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, with their 
 unconscious charge, drove slowly away from the door ; 
 but finding she soon fell asleep, Mr. Stanley called to 
 the coachman and told him, when they were off the by- 
 road, to drive with full speed, and in this way they 
 leached home in the middle of the afternoon. 
 
 Doctor Jenks, whom Alice had summoned, was at 
 hand, to assist in carrying Edith to her room, from which 
 it seemed to him very doubtful whether she would live 
 to come out. For three days she lay in a stupor, never 
 but once having any return of her violence, and that was 
 the night after her arrival. Mrs. Stanley, Emma, and 
 Alice were unwearied in their attentions to the uncon- 
 scious sufferer, who, pallid and ghastly, looked very dif- 
 ferent from the blooming, brilliant Edith of former days 
 As she lay there, so nearly resembling death, her kind
 
 348 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 friends offered incessant prayer that she might be re- 
 stored to her reason, if it was God's will she should 
 never recover. On the fourth day she seemed to arouse 
 from her long sleep, and was able to take a few tea- 
 spoonfuls of gruel. Her attendants could not be quite 
 sure whether she knew -them. When she awoke from 
 eleep, she talked very fast and incoherently for a few 
 moments, but gradually grew more quiet, and lay, foi -an 
 hour at a time, with her eyes closed, only opening them 
 when she was addressed by name. 
 
 One day she was much more delirious than usual. 
 She had had no rest through the night, and the soothing 
 powders failed to produce their usual effect. She kept 
 calling upon Alfred in the most piteous manner, exclaim- 
 ing : " If you do leave me, I shall be all alone. No one 
 but you left ; Oh, Alfred ! " 
 
 " Alfred will never, never leave you," said a hoarse 
 voice close by her side, and to the astonishment of all 
 present, Alfred Huntington stood before them. He had 
 come unexpectedly to the Hall to pass a few days, but 
 had not heard of Edith's sickness, until he entered the 
 house. 
 
 Mrs. Stanlej feared the effect of the excitement if she 
 should recognize her lover, for such his manner stilJ 
 proved him to be. But though for an instant the young 
 girl seemed to hold her breath, as if listening eagerly, 
 she soon resumed her rapid talk. 
 
 Alfred advanced to the bed, and, in a low whisper, re- 
 peated the assurance of his love, and that he would 
 never leave her. He held her hand in his, whiie he 
 eagerly gazed at her, to see if she recognized him ; but
 
 IN DtSWUISE. 349 
 
 though he was rewarded by no answering glance, yet his 
 very presence seemed to soothe her. Gently as a mother 
 deals with a fretful babe, diJ the young man smooth her 
 ruffled brow, all the while whispering words of endear- 
 ment, until she fell into a quiet sleep. 
 
 When good Dr. Jenks noiselessly entered the room, he 
 found his patient had passed into other hands. Alfred 
 still sat with one hand upon her forehead, the other 
 tightly grasped in hers, while the tears were flowing un- 
 heeded down his manly cheeks. Alice pointed to 
 the bed, at the same time motioning him to be quiet. 
 After this, nothing could exceed the tenderness of the 
 new nurse. From his hand, Edith never refused to take 
 medicine, however nauseous it might be ; his loving voice 
 seemed to dispel her gloom, his hand to allay her distress, 
 and though she never addressed him or appeared really 
 conscious of his presence ; yet if he were absent from 
 the room, she was restless and uneasy. The idea that 
 he was necessary to her comfort caused a thrill of rap- 
 ture in the heart of the young man, and his prayers be- 
 came more earnest in her behalf. 
 
 Dr. Jenks began to be seriously alarmed that she did 
 not rally, and told Mrs. Stanley unless there was soon a 
 change for the better, she must die. Indeed, he fean-d 
 he were already sinking. This announcement caused 
 her friends deep sorrow; all but Alfred felt that she 
 would soon leave them ; but as their hopes sank, his 
 revived. He now became the comforter. With an eye 
 midimmed by a tear, with a countenance pale but calm, 
 he told them God had a great work for Edith to do, that 
 this was his chosen way to fit her for it, that he was a 
 30
 
 350 TTJ?; HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 God vVno loved to be inquired of by his children, and he 
 bogged them not to cease their supplications in her 
 behalf. 
 
 Edith had now lain for I'.oars unconscious of all 
 around her. Save the constant wetting of her lips 
 with brandy and water, no nourishment had been taken. 
 The family gathered around her bed, and knelt for prayer ; 
 but in vain did Mr. Stanley try to raise his voice. The 
 idea of Edith passing, as he thought, from time to eter- 
 nity, wholly overcame him. 
 
 After a moment's delay, the voice of Alfred was heard. 
 Ho seemed already assured of a blessing. He entered 
 at once into the holy of holies, and carried his hearers 
 with him into the immediate presence of God. His soul 
 was filled with assurance of God's readiness to save her 
 for whom Christ had shed his precious blood, and in her 
 behalf he consecrated her future life to the service of her 
 Saviour. 
 
 The tardy moments roll away, as all stand gazing 
 upon one who lies as if already in the embrace of death. 
 Weeping and sobbing are heard on every side ; but 
 Alfred is closely watching the feeble breath ; a short gasp 
 does not escape his attention. He again wets her lips, 
 then places his fingers upon her wrist. He notices a 
 slight change. With a motion to the group to suppress 
 their sobs, he leans forward to listen to her breathing. 
 He looks anxiously up, as he hears a carriage, hoping it 
 is the Doctor. 
 
 He is not disappointed ; the kind physician softly en- 
 ters. " Is she gone"? " he whispers. 
 
 As Mrs. Stanley shakes her head, he passes silently tc
 
 IN DISGUISE. 35l 
 
 the side of her bed; he places his hand on her brow 
 starts back and gazes around, wipes his glasses, and re- 
 places them. His countenance changes as he marks her 
 pulse ; a smile, yes, a smile lights up his features. Al- 
 fred understands it, and unable longer to contsrin the 
 feelings of hope and joy which fill his soul, abruptly 
 retires. He seeks his chamber to pour. out his heart in 
 praise to God, tears of gratitude stream down his cheek?, 
 and he renews his self-consecration to his Saviour. He 
 returns to the sick-room, where he finds Dr. Jenks has 
 forced through the closed teeth a most powerful astrin- 
 gent. His manner has already conveyed hope. All art; 
 silent. He has motioned them to be seated back from 
 the bed, and sits down himself to await the result. 
 
 Alfred approaches, softly places a chair by her side, ami 
 tries to quell the tumult of joy which is swelling his 
 heart almost to bursting. He gently lifts the pale, 
 emaciated hand from the counterpane, and presses it 
 to his lips. Oh, how gladly would he impart some of 
 his own warm life-blood to quicken her pulsations! A 
 gentle perspiration has covered her brow, and the 
 Doctor calling Mrs. Stanley from the room, tells her the 
 crisis has past, and he now hopes his patient will recover. 
 
 *' Oh ! " said Marion, bursting into tears, " it is in an- 
 swer to Alfred's fervent prayer." 
 
 And \\ho shall say that it was not so, that He, with 
 whom are ihe issues of life and death, did not grant hei 
 restoration in answer to his importunate supplications? 
 For more than an hour Edith lay in a sweet, refreshing 
 slumber. All had left, the room, with the exception of 
 Mrs. Stanley and Alfred. Days of anxiety, and 'ji^'ib
 
 352 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 of watching seemed powerless to fatigue him. He now 
 sat looking for the first return to consciousness, in the. 
 hope that she would recognize him. Marion was kneel- 
 ing by her side, her face concealed in the bed-clothes. At 
 length the sufferer feebly moves, and heaves a deep sigh. 
 Alfred, applies the sponge to her lips, and she slowly un- 
 closes her eyes, which rest upon Mrs. Stanley. It is as 
 they hoped, she recognizes her, and whispers, " Mother." 
 
 Choking back her tears, the thankful friend kisses the 
 pale brow, and tries to articulate, " My own dear 
 laughter." 
 
 Again the feeble lips move tremulously, she bends 
 forward to catch the words, " Forgive poor Edith." 
 
 Marion repeatedly assures her that all, all is forgiven ; 
 aD forgotten, save the blessed thought that she is re 
 stored to them. 
 
 A faint smile flickers for one moment around her 
 mouth, and she again falls asleep. With eager impa- 
 tience Alfred watches her. He longs once more to hear 
 her voice, and to have her speak his name. Nor does he 
 wait in vain. She again opens her eyes, and fixes them 
 full upon him. For one instant she gazes, as if fearing 
 *he is still dreaming, then softly whispers, " It is my 
 Alfred." 
 
 " Yes, my darling Edith," he cries, unable longer to 
 contain himself, " God has given you back to me from 
 the dead. You are mine now, all mine, love." 
 
 A beautiful smile of trust lit up the pale countenance 
 of the invalid, and from this time she slowly gained 
 strength. There was no more coldness, no reserve, her 
 proud neart was humbled, and the penitent sat meekly
 
 IN DISGUISE. 353 
 
 at the feet of her Saviour. As sjie had opportunity, she 
 asked pardon of Mr. Stanley, for all the trouble she had 
 < aused him from a child, and begged his consent still to 
 call him father. 
 
 Toward Alice and Uncle Stephen she confessed her- 
 self to have indulged wicked thoughts and unkind feel- 
 ings, which she earnestly implored them to forgive. 
 
 The good old man, who could hardly realize so great 
 a change in her character, was wholly overcome, and re- 
 tired to his room to weep aloud. 
 
 But the greatest mark of a thorough change was in 
 the anxiety she expressed for her own mother, who was 
 failing rapidly. The family had deemed it advisable not 
 to tell Mrs. Carey how very sick her child had been ; but 
 now Edith begged to be allowed to see her, at least once, 
 before she died ; and one day, after consulting the Doc- 
 tor, Mrs. Carey was brought to the Hall, when Alfred 
 gently took her in his arms, and laid her on the bed by 
 her sick child. All present were struck with the likeness 
 between them, as they lay in a close embrace. Nurse 
 Carey had perfectly recovered her reason. Her eye, 
 which, from its wildness, had given an unearthly look to 
 hoi whole countenance, was now tearful, but calm, and 
 Edith, with her rich tresses confined under a cap, her 
 bright color gone, her eye and lip no longer scornful, 
 both in feature and expression resembled those of her 
 mother. All retired during that first interview between 
 them as mother and child, and which would probably 
 be their last. 
 
 It was not until the sound of violent weeping in the 
 room warned her that too much excitement might be fa 
 
 30*
 
 354 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 ial to them both, that Mrs. Stanley hastily entered 
 Edith's solemn words arrested her attention, " Dear 
 mother, look at me ; think of what I was, the very chief 
 of sinners. Even you, sinful as you have been, can 
 never imagine half my guilt. But God has had mercy 
 upon me ; Jesus has power to wash out guilt, even such 
 as mine, and will save you. Oh, don't delay ! Say to 
 him, ' Dear Lord, here I am, a poor sinner ; but I trust 
 in thy power to save.' For my sake, dear mother, do 
 not delay. Oh, if you could only know the sweet peace 
 which filled my soul when I threw away all my rebellious 
 pride, and opened my heart to his love ! The fountain 
 is inexhaustible. God is ready and willing to save you, 
 too. Dear mother, father is in heaven, and, vile and sin- 
 ful as I have been, I hope to enter there. Will you refuse 
 to meet us in that world ? " Here the poor girl's feel- 
 ings entirely exhausted her, and, with her mother's hand 
 pressed tightly in hers, she sank back upon the pillows. 
 
 The poor mother wept and sobbed without restraint, 
 and Mrs. Stanley, without having been seen by them, 
 stepped back and called Alfred to remove her to the 
 nursery. Mrs: Carey was never carried home, but died 
 the next day, with a trembling hope that God had for- 
 given her sins. Her last words were to Alfred, who had 
 spent hours at her bedside, " Tell my child I feel myself 
 to be a great sinner ; but I trust my Saviour has forgiven 
 me." 
 
 The death of Mrs. Carey affected Alice deeply, as well 
 as all the household, who, now that she was gone, re- 
 mambered only her untiring devotion to them in sickness, 
 her 'ove for her late mistress, and her strong affection foi
 
 IN DISGUISE. 355 
 
 J.ociis. Alfred was called upon by Edith to repeat again 
 and again ail that she had said, and the tears which the\ 
 together dropped to her memory, were a new tie between 
 them. 
 
 When Edith was able to sit up in the large easy-chair 
 which Alice had sent from her own room for the invalid, 
 no one would have recognized in the meek and humble 
 Christian, whose eye beamed so tenderly upon her mother 
 and sisters, the once proud and lofty spirit, who expected 
 all to bow before her. To her family she had never look?d 
 so lovely in the proudest days of her brilliant beauty. 
 Love toward her Saviour shone in her countenance, and 
 animated all her actions. Even the servants felt and ac- 
 knowledged the change. To every one she had confessed 
 her pride and rebellion, and to every one she had recom- 
 mended her Saviour, who would surely forgive them, if 
 sins like hers could be pardoned. 
 
 Alfred's term had now commenced, and he announced 
 his intention of leaving the next day. Choosing an oppor- 
 tunity when Edith was alone, he sat down near her. No 
 formal engagement existed between them. Since the fivst 
 : nipassioned words when she recovered her conscious- 
 ness, he had never told his love. But he was aware she 
 knew his heart, and that, after his Maker, she occupied 
 the first place in his affections. He held her unresisting 
 hand in his, as he said, " Edith, it is hard for me to leave 
 you. I shall look back to the past vacation as the hap- 
 piest period of my life." 
 
 " Yes," said Edith, tremulously, " we shall never forget 
 it" 
 
 " God has been very gracious to ns," continued the
 
 356 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 young man, trying to repress his emotion, " and we will 
 not hesitate to devote our lives to his service." 
 
 " No," was the firm, but whispered response. 
 
 " It will be a hard lot for you, my love, to have your 
 home and friends, for a life among the heathen." Tie 
 stopped, and leaned eagerly forward to catch the words 
 which were trembling upon her lips. 
 
 With one long, earnest gaze into his eye, Edith said, 
 gently, " Where thou goest I will go .... and there will 
 I be buried." Even she, with her warm, impulsive na- 
 ture, was not prepared for the burst of feeling displayed, 
 as she repeated the sacred words. He covered his face, 
 and sobbed convulsively. 
 
 " Alfred, my dearest friend," she said, rising and stand- 
 ing by his side ; " do not weep, or let me weep with you. 
 Henceforth your griefs and joys are mine." 
 
 " They are blissful tears, dearest," he replied, straining 
 her to his breast, " and such as angels might envy. Oh, 
 my Edith ! my heart swells with love to God as I re- 
 member how graciously he has answered my prayers in 
 your behalf. How short-sighted we mortals are. When 
 I heard of the change which had come over your pros- 
 pects, I mourned, and wept bitter tears. 1 little knew 
 this was his chosen way to fit you for the great work 
 before you. Dear Edith, let us never forget his goodness, 
 let us never cease to trust him." 
 
 The next morning, before he left, Alfred informed his 
 kind benefactor that one objection to bis offering himseli 
 to the Board of Missions was obviated, for he did not 
 intend to go to India without a wife. 
 
 Uncle Stephen rejoiced with him in his happiness, but
 
 IX DISGUISE. 35? 
 
 said that was an additional reason why he should join 1he 
 mission under his care. " I am growing old, my boy," 
 said he, wiping the ever ready tear from his eye, " and il 
 gives rne great joy to send your father, who has labored 
 so faithfully for years, a young coadjutor, to share his 
 labors and cares. Edith will be a good daughter to 
 them." 
 
 He then communicated to Alfred the fact that in his 
 will he had made provision for the mission, arid that 
 he wished them to enlarge operations, especially in the 
 school for native taachers. " Tell Edith," he contin- 
 ued, " that there is a fund from which you can draw to 
 provide her a suitable outfit, and may God's blessing go 
 with you to the end of life." The good old man turned 
 hastily away, and locked himself up in his own room. 
 
 It occasioned no surprise to the family group assembled 
 in Edith's chamber for morning prayer, when Mr. Hunt- 
 ington announced his and Edith's intention of going to 
 spend their lives in India, though there were many tears 
 shed at the thought of the long separation. 
 
 Edith alone was calm. With a holy light in her eye, 
 and an elevation of soul expressed in every feature of her 
 pale countenance, she pointed upward as she said, " We 
 
 shall meet there." 
 
 ****** 
 
 Spring had come again with its swelling buds, its tiny 
 violets, peeping up from their winter bed, its balmy air, 
 and refreshing showers ; but its delightful breezes brought 
 no strength to Mrs. Hayden, who was rapidly approach- 
 ing the end of life. 
 
 For a few weeks Alice had spent a part of every day
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGHL 
 
 in company with her sick friend. Dear little Minnie, in 
 happy unconsciousness that her beloved mother was fast 
 passing away from her sight, seemed never so gay. She 
 found bright dandelions, and pleased herself vastly with 
 twining them in her mother's hair. " Mamma look 
 pretty ! Mamma do look pretty ! " she exclaimed, danc- 
 ing up and down in her joy. 
 
 Though Mrs. Hayden perfectly realized her situation, 
 yet to her there was nothing of gloom in the idea of 
 death. It only seemed to her the " road which man must 
 pass to God." 
 
 With Dexter she talked earnestly with regard to his 
 future coarse, and that of his sister. She told them if 
 Nurse Green was obliged to leave, God would provide 
 them a home. His promise to be a father to the father- 
 less would never fail. She also spoke long and tenderly 
 of his father, and left many messages for him. 
 
 Though well aware that she could not long survive, 
 yet Alice was much shocked, early one bright morning 
 about the middle of April, to receive the intelligence 
 that the sufferer had gone to her rest. But upon Dex- 
 ter it came like a thunderbolt, and struck him to the 
 earth. He had listened calmly when his mother talked 
 with him, controlling his feelings that he might not 
 excite her ; but his heart whispered, " she will not yet 
 leave you," and he listened to the voice, and hopec 
 against hope. 
 
 Alice and her husband consulted earnestly what should 
 be done with the children, and hoped to take Minnie for 
 their own ; but when she mentioned to Dexter her moth- 
 er's wish to have them leave the cottage, for the present,
 
 IN DISGUISE. 359 
 
 and come to Lindenwood, lie was so distressed that she 
 urged it no farther, but contented herself with providing 
 for them, while her husband made arrangements for the 
 funeral.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 "Hark! to the hurried question of Despair: 
 ' Where is my wife ? ' an echo answers, ' where ? ' " 
 
 Byron. 
 
 NEAR the close of a calm, pleasant afternoon in spring, 
 when all nature was bursting into life and loveliness, a 
 man jumped from the cars at a station about three miles 
 below Queenstown. He was rather above the usual 
 size, of athletic frame, and an open, good-humored cast 
 of countenance. He walked quickly along the side of 
 the road leading directly to the next town, and there was 
 a lightness and elasticity in his step, a freedom in his air 
 and manner, which showed plainly that he was glad to 
 escape the confinement of a long day's ride in the cars 
 for the free air and the exercise of his limbs ; and also 
 that he looked forward with pleasure to the end of the 
 journey. But, if observed more critically, as one would 
 hardly be able to do while he walked at so rapid a pace, 
 an occasional contraction of the brow could be discov- 
 ed, and a close shutting of the lips, which indicated some 
 solicitude or anxiety, mingled with his earnest anticipa- 
 tions of pleasure. 
 
 This feeling, however, he tried to shake off', and began 
 whistling a merry tune ; but as that did not seem quite 
 in accordance with his feelings, he commenced talking to 
 himself. " Let me see," he soliloquized, looking at the 
 
 860
 
 THE liOI'SElIOLD -VNGEL IN DISGUISE. 36.1 
 
 sun to ascertain the length of time before dark, " it will 
 take me about half an hour to get there at the rate I'm 
 going now ; " and he slackened his pace, though reluct- 
 antly. " I should rather wait until there would be no 
 danger of being recognized. I want to go right home 
 and see my family. 1 wonder if wife expects me," and, 
 Unconsciously, he again quickened his steps. " I suppose 
 Dexter has grown a good deal in a year, and so, too, has 
 Minnie/' The man smiled, as the vision of a pair of 
 aughing blue eyes, peeping out from a shower of sunny 
 curls danced before him. 
 
 " She'll be shy at first, and no wonder," he added, 
 rather sadly ; " but I'll soon make friends with her. She's 
 too young to take my well, any trouble long to heart. 
 But wife, oh, dear ! I do wish 1 could get such fancies 
 out of my head. I suppose it's just because she took on 
 so dreadfully when I was carried off; and I never can 
 get that last look of hers out of my mind. It seemed to 
 say. ' Oh, Timothy ! I've borne and borne with your 
 abuse, and loved you through it all ; but now you've 
 killed me.' Pshaw! I never can think of it without cry- 
 ing;'' and he dashed away a tear, and almost started 
 into a run to rid himself of the unpleasant remembrance. 
 "'Taint likely but what she's got over it long ago, and 
 when I've seen her and convinced her that I mean to make 
 a man yet, and that she shall be as well off as ever she 
 was, and that Dexter shall have an education, I'll venture 
 this new suit of clothes against those parti-colored things 
 I've had to wear a year, that she'll be as bright as a but- 
 ton. She was nlways a forgiving creature. Sometimes, 
 I've thought if she'd been huffy or cross, I shouldn't have 
 
 31
 
 362 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 dared to carry on so. But 'tisn't no use to think of thai 
 now. Let bygones be bygones. I'll show Queen.stou 11 
 people that I mean to make somebody yet, notwith- 
 standing .Let's see now. 'Twas in September 1 
 
 had that letter from wife. I've always wondered how 
 she happened to write just that one, no more, no less , 
 and I've always thought 'twas such a queer one too. 
 Not a syllable of grumbling or complaint in it, nor say- 
 ing that I'd brought disgrace on the family; no, nothing 
 of that sort. I suppose she thought I'd had leisure 
 enough when I was locked up in my cell nights to think 
 o' that. Ha'n't I, though?" he exclaimed, impatiently 
 shaking his shoulders, as if he'd have no more such 
 thoughts. " It always seemed as if she thought she was 
 making a will. Well, I suppose 'twa'n't very amusing 
 or cheering work for one brought up as she'd been to sit 
 down and write to a husband who was in the state 
 prison ; and, if any body had hinted such an idea to me 
 the day I was married, I'd ha well, I can't say what I 
 wouldn't have done. Heigh ho ! 'tis strange how one 
 thing led on to another." 
 
 Then again referring to the letter, " She told all about 
 Dexter, and what a noble boy he was, and how every 
 day, and every hour in the day, his looks reminded her 
 of me, and how well he got on in his schooling. He'll 
 make a man yet, that boy will. Then Minnie too ! Oh, 
 how she did set Minnie out, with her funny ways ! She 
 always was a cunning little thing ; and then she prays 
 for her papa, and asks God to bring dear papa back. 
 'Tis astonishing how much comfort sorrje people do take 
 in praying Now, though I know it's all humbug, y^ 1
 
 IN DISGUISE. ob'3 
 
 hall let wife go on just as she's a mind to. If site 
 wants to think there's a God, and to teach the children 
 to pray, and to go to meeting, I shall let her. There's 
 no harm in it, if it gives them pleasure. I shouldn't 
 wonder if 1 myself went to meeting sometimes with 
 them. It'* kind o' respectable to see a family going 
 along together, wife and I, and Dexter leading Minnie ; 
 hut I know better than to believe such things." 
 
 His soliloquy was brought to a sudden termination 
 by seeing that he had reached the outskirts of the town, 
 and the sun was still half an hour high. He stopped 
 short, and hesitated. There was an almost irresistible 
 impulse to proceed to the end of his journey, opposed 
 by a reluctance to go through the streets until it were 
 too late for him to be recognized by any of his old 
 acquaintances ; but his anxiety to be at home prevailed, 
 and he accelerated his speed to make up for his mo- 
 mentary delay. His face \vas somewhat flushed from 
 his exercise ; and now his breast began to heave with 
 emotion, as he thought, " In a few moments more, I 
 shall have my dear wife and children in my arms. 1 
 was a fool ever to doubt she'd forgive me. 1 know she 
 will when she sees me ;" and he folded his arms upon 
 his bosom, as if they already encircled the loved ones. 
 He hurries on ; every object now is familiar. There is 
 Moses Pond, going for his father's cows. The boy's 
 merry whistle rather jars upon his excited feelings, and 
 he turns to the other side of the road, where Widow 
 Morse is picking up chips by the wood-pile to get her 
 tea. The old lady looks up as he passes, gazes at him 
 through the wide frill of her cap, then starts to her feet,
 
 #64 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 letting fall tier apronful of splinters, and almost screams 
 out, " Goodness me ! as true as I'm alive, there's Timo 
 thy Hayden come home from prison. Oh, dear! oh, 
 dear ! " and, forgetting her errand to the wood-pi'e, she 
 hurries into the house to communicate the intelligence. 
 
 " That's a pretty way to welcome a feller, I must 
 say;" and Mr. Hayden, much annoyed at the curiosity 
 with which he saw he should be regarded, still hastened 
 his steps. He is now but about three quarters of a mile 
 from home. The road is straight for nearly the whole 
 distance. On the right, he perceives Linden wood Hall, 
 then, farther on, the spires of the churches. He tries to 
 distinguish the low-roofed house where he is going ; but 
 no, he cannot see it yet ; the higher buildings conceal it. 
 But, at the distance of a few hundred rods, he espies a 
 carriage standing before a gate, with a number of persons 
 about it. 
 
 " There's a funeral, I guess," he said, carelessly, fixing 
 his eyes upon the spot " Yes, that's the hearse, and 
 two carriages behind it. I wonder who's dead. I reckon 
 it's nobody that I know." He could now see over the 
 stone wall into the graveyard, and unconsciously walked 
 \ little slower to witness what was going on. 
 
 Just as he was opposite, the sexton with three other 
 men were lowering the coffin into the damp grave. There 
 tvas an air of deep solemnity about the whole company 
 (for many had joined the procession on foot) which filled 
 his mind with awe. He felt he was in the presence of 
 death ; and, without knowing it, the traveller approached, 
 and leaned upon the top of the stone wall. A young 
 }ady was standing near the open grave, supported by a
 
 IN DISGUISE. 365 
 
 tail, fine-looking man. She was weeping bitterly ; but, 
 as she took her handkerchief from her face for one last 
 look into the final resting-place of the departed, he 
 noticed that she was a stranger to him, but surpassingly 
 beautiful. Back of them, or rather at the side, stood 
 quite a family of mourners, though none of them were 
 dressed in black. 
 
 An old gentleman with glasses was leaning for support 
 upon the arrn of a man, perhaps his son. His face was 
 turned in the opposite direction. Just at that moment, 
 when the traveller had taken a step forward to proceed 
 on his way. the tall gentleman who was with the lady 
 iifted a child in his arms, and he.ld her over, so that she 
 could look into the grave. She gazed an instant, and 
 then turned her face away, and clung weeping to his 
 neck. 
 
 What can it be which has so suddenly palsied the 
 limbs of the traveller, which were but a moment before 
 .so full of life and activity ? What makes the blood so- 
 quickly recede from his heart, blanching his face with 
 sudden terror ? He staggers and reels against the cold 
 stones for support. His whole sense seems to be con- 
 centrated in his desire to see. The lifeless body is left 
 with its kindred dust; the procession begins to move 
 away ; the sexton stands with his shovel in his hand, 
 only waiting for them to pass before he begins his solemn 
 work of giving earth to earth, and dust to dust. He 
 sees it all at a glance. Now they approach the gate. 
 Entirely forgetful of his wish to be nn noticed, he presses 
 on. He must see for himself. He trios to recall \\i 
 31'
 
 3b6 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 scattered senses, and to clear his eyes from the blui 
 which has gathered over them. 
 
 First in the procession walks a boy, tall and manly 
 leading the child whose countenance so alarmed him. 
 The boy's face is entirely hidden, and he tries to think 
 him too large to be the one he had for an instant feared 
 but he is in deep affliction, and proves himself so utterly 
 incapable of taking care of the child that the lady 
 behind takes her from him, while her companion tenderly 
 grasps him by the hand. 
 
 " It cannot be," exclaimed the man, in a husky voice, 
 for the first time drawing a long breath. " How fright- 
 ened I was ! No, that -would be too cruel. I'll hurry 
 on." But still he lingered. He would like to see who 
 was going to get into the carriage. Ah ! now he's 
 entirely relieved. He recognizes Squire Stanley and the 
 old India uncle who lives with him. He wonders which 
 of the family it is, and why none but the children are 
 dressed in mourning, though they all look sad enough. 
 They are coming through the gate. He stands back to 
 let them pass. Suddenly the little girl springs from her 
 companion, and clings to the boy. " Oh, brother Dex- 
 ter !" she cries, "don't* flon't leave poor sick mamma 
 here J " 
 
 The boy strains her to his breast, and sobs aloud ; the 
 gentleman gently separates them, and lifts them into the 
 carriage ; the young lady steps in, and he follows. Mr. 
 Stanley and his family occupy the other carriage. The 
 coachmen shut the doors, and drive away ; the hearse, 
 with it.? bony horse, is still tied to the gate, waiting for 
 the oexiton ; the procession moves out and passes on
 
 IN DISGl'ISK. o!>7 
 
 out still the man stands as if turned to. stone An 
 arrow has pierced his heart, and sent by whom ? Ah ! 
 in that moment of indescribable agony, when sorrow 
 and remorse qui< kly .succeed each other, and struggle for 
 mastery in his breast, he doubts no longer. He knc'.es 
 there is a God in heaven. 
 
 The sound of the earth rattling upon the coffin can be 
 distinctly heard ; he grasps the post by the side of the 
 gate, and gazes wilh terror at the man who is so indiffer- 
 ently covering from his sight the wife of his bosom. The 
 moments pass on, the grave is filled, the green sods_ re- 
 placed, and, with a few blows of the shovel to press them 
 firmly to the earth, the sexton gathers up the ropes, and, 
 with a look behind to see that nothing is left, walks away. 
 
 The poor, broken-hearted man, whose high hopes are 
 so suddenly crushed, creeps back a few paces, and sits 
 down close to the wall. The sexton, without noticing 
 the intruder, carefully closes the gate, puts the ropes in a 
 box in front of the hearse, takes the shovel between his 
 knees, gathers up his reins, and rattles away at a rapid 
 pace. 
 
 Lower and lower sinks the head of the bowed man. 
 deeper and deeper are his heavy sighs ; hia bosom heavs 
 convulsively, his eyeballs glare and burn ; but no refresh- 
 ing tears come to moisten them, no soothing relied ion 
 tends to calm his woe. No, all is black, impenetrable 
 darkness. When the sound of the hearse wheels has 
 entirely ceased, when it. hns gone altogether from sight, 
 the poor man, whose step so lately was vigorous with 
 life, crawls as if the weight of years had suddenly fallen 
 upon him, on toward the gate. With trembling hands
 
 368 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEI, 
 
 he lifts the latch, mechanically closes it after him, and he 
 is alone with the dead. With unsteady steps he wends 
 his way on, on until he reaches the mound where lir 
 buried all his hopes of happiness. Yes, he forgets even. 
 the existence of his high-spirited boy, and his winning 
 ittle Minnie. He only knows that his own dear wife 
 lies buried deep, deep in the ground, where he never 
 more shall see her, never more hear her voice say, " I for- 
 give you." She from whom for a long, weary year, he 
 has been separated, but with whose love all his future had 
 been inseparably blended. 
 
 And now it's all over, and, with a low, despairing cry, 
 " Oh God, ifs too late ! '' he throws himself upon her 
 grave. 
 
 After a few moments, with a loud shout he starts to 
 his feet. He will not give her up. It. may be that she 
 still lives. An indescribable yearning for one more look 
 at her fair countenance, an irrepressible longing to hold 
 her in one more embrace, even in death, almost maddens 
 him. With his hands he begins to tear away the heart- 
 less clods which hide her from his view ; but, with a sud- 
 den thought of her as he saw her with that last beseech- 
 ing, imploring look, " I've loved you ; but you've killed 
 me," he fell senseless to the ground. 
 
 The next morning, when Moses Pond went with his 
 cows to pasture, he was startled to see the figure of a 
 man, whose hat had rolled to a short distance, lying ex- 
 tended upon the grave. He knew very well who was 
 buried there, and with a light bound he jumped over the 
 wall, without waiting to go around by the gate, and cau 
 tiously approached the spot. As he drew nearer, he sud
 
 IN DISGU1SK. 
 
 denly started, leaped the wall again, and fled for home. 
 He had recognized the husband of the deceased, and 
 supposed him dead. In a very short time he conducted 
 his father and neighbors to the place, and hailing a mar- 
 ket-man going to the village, they prevailed upon him to 
 assist in getting the insensible man into his long wagon> 
 and to carry him to his desolate dwelling. Home it was 
 not, for she who had made it such was in her grave.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 "Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise." 
 
 David. 
 
 UPON leaving the cemetery the night previous, Minnie 
 sobbed so violently, and plead so touch! ugly, to be car- 
 ried back " to stay with dear mamma," that Alice Syd- 
 ney wished to take the children to Lindcnwood for the 
 night; but Dexter respectfully but firmly declined. The 
 poor boy had wept until the fountain of his grief was 
 exhausted, and his head ached so violently that he felt 
 wholly unequal to the effort which would be necessary if 
 he accepted her kind invitation. He desired to be alone, 
 and think of his mother's last words. He had been left 
 sole protector of his sister, and he wished to form some 
 plans for her and himself. The good nurse, who had 
 been so unwearied in her care of his sick mother, would 
 now, he supposed, be obliged to leave, and there was no 
 time for him to lose in useless repining. During the long 
 year which had passed since the dreadful blow had fallen 
 upon them, from which his mother had never recovered, 
 not one word of intelligence had been received from his 
 father. In the free conversations he had held with his 
 mother near the close of her life, she Ivul expressed doubt 
 whether he still lived ; and, even if he did, whether he 
 would return to his family. She thought he might be 
 prevented, by shame, from coming back to his native vil- 
 lage What, then, could he do with the sweet child ? 
 
 870
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANUKL IN DISGUISE. O?l 
 
 All seemed dark and drear beiore him. But soon his 
 hopes revived. His confidence returned. " Mother often 
 repeated to us God's promise to be a father to the father- 
 less, and I will trust him." 
 
 A multitude of such thoughts passed through hia 
 mind, as they drove toward the house which had been 
 their home, and where the kind nurse awaited them. 
 Alice had been talking in a cheerful voice to Minnie, and 
 had succeeded in diverting her grief. 
 
 Happy childhood ! The waves of sorrow break and 
 dash over thee, but the receding billow flows gently back 
 to the sea, and thou art soon shouting as entirely forget- 
 ful of thy grief, as the next wave which comes leaping, 
 foaming, sparkling and breaking upon the shore ! 
 
 Dexter ga/ed upon his little sister as Mr. Sydney lifted 
 her from the carriage, and asked himself, " Can 1 ever 
 again be happy ? Can I ever forget ? " Though but 
 twelve years of age, yet in maturity of character he was 
 much older. For a long time he had been the confidant 
 and comforter of his mother. He often wondered at the 
 conduct, of hi.s companions, who were irritated and an- 
 noyed at what appeared to him the veriest trifles; but 
 was forced to the conclusion that they had never known 
 real trouble. 
 
 On entering the room, rendered desolate by the re- 
 moval of the sacred remains cf his beloved mother, Dex- 
 ter was so much overcome with grief, that he was obliged 
 to follow the oft-repeated advice of Nurse (Jreen, and 
 betake himself to bed. She soon carried him a cup of 
 warm tea, and, fatigued by over-waiching and excite- 
 ment, he fell into the sound sleep of childhood, little
 
 372 1HE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 dreaming who was sleeping an unconscious vigil at his 
 mother's grave. Minnie snugly nestled herself to his 
 side, and thus the sweet children lay. 
 
 The next mornin'g Dexter was suddenly awakened by 
 the heavy, rattling sound of a wagon, which stopped di- 
 rectly in front of the cottage. He started quickly out of 
 bed, for a moment forgetting his dreadful loss.-, and sur- 
 prised that he had so overslept. But soon the uread real- 
 ity burst upon him, and, putting his hand to his head, he 
 was just about to resume his place by the side of his sis- 
 ter, that he might weep with her, when a loud knock was 
 heard at the door. 
 
 Nurse had risen an hour earlier, and was no',y in the 
 small shed, preparing their morning repast. She nastened 
 to see who this unseasonable visitor could be. It was 
 Farmer Pond, flurried and anxious, and behind hi?-" a long 
 cart, the high sides of which prevented her from seeing 
 what it contained. 
 
 " Good morning, Nurse Green," said Mr. Pond. 
 
 " Good morning," was the reply. " Anybody sick at 
 your house ? " 
 
 " Why no, not exactly ; but I've got somebody in this 
 'ere wagon needs attention. I found him lying on the 
 newly-made grave of his wife. How the poor fellow 
 came there I can't imagine. I didn't know he was out 
 of prison ; but he seems now entirely unconscious. He 
 hasn't moved a hair since we put him into the wagon." 
 
 The good woman stood so amazed at the announce- 
 ment, that she had not yet spoken ; but when he added, 
 " We better get him into bed as soon as we can, and 
 have the doctor to him," she was all ready to do her part.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 373 
 
 fhe market-man descended from his box, and, with the 
 lelp of the farmer, they gently lifted poor Hayden from 
 the wagon, and laid him into bed, when Mr. Pond started 
 off in haste for the doctor.* 
 
 The intelligence, which quickly spread through the 
 village, was conveyed to Lindenwood by the boy who 
 carried the morning papers. Clarence offered to accom- 
 pany his wife at once to the cottage, and to offer any 
 assistance which might be necessary. When they ar- 
 rived, they witnessed an affecting scene. Dr. Jenks, who 
 had promptly answered the summons, was taking blood 
 from the arm of his unconscious patient, while Dexter 
 knelt on the bed, applying the strongest stimulants. Min- 
 nie was seated in her little chair, looking from one to 
 another in speechless wonder. Nurse Green held the 
 bowl in one hand to receive the blood, while with the 
 other she held the bandages for the doctor to swathe the 
 arm. The sister of Mrs. Hayden, who was there with 
 her babe in her arms, stood back from the bed, and gazed 
 with a tearful interest at the group. She had cherished 
 very hard feelings toward her brother-in-law for bringing 
 Buch trouble upon his family, and breaking the loving 
 heart of his wife ; but her resentment had all passed 
 away since she had seen him lying there in the image of 
 death, and had heard the affecting circumstance of his 
 being found extended upon the grave of his deceased 
 wife. 
 
 When Minnie saw her kind friend enter the room, she 
 sprang forward to meet her ; and, without speaking, 
 pointed her little finger toward the bed Alice sa* 
 32
 
 374 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 quietly down, and took the child upon her lap, while 
 Clarence stood beside her. 
 
 A low groan came from the bedside, followed by a 
 quick gasp from the sufferer. ' 
 
 " There," said the Doctor, " he s come to. Give me 
 the bandages, nurse, I don't want to debilitate him. He 
 was pretty near gons." 
 
 Clarence advanced, and taking the cold hand, vigor- 
 ously chafed it, and in the course of half an hour, with 
 the help of camphor and water, which they succeeded in 
 forcing down his throat, the man revived to a full sense 
 of his situation, and of his dreadful loss. He took no 
 notice of his children, though Alice had persuaded Minnie 
 to put her hand on papa's head. With a shudder he 
 motioned her away, as if the sight were too intimately 
 connected with the memory of her mother for his present 
 endurance. His grief was too deep for tears, and his ex- 
 pression of unuttered agony appealed to every heart 
 The presence of strangers seemed to annoy him. Clar- 
 ence and Alice, therefore, reluctantly departed, afte> 
 making arrangements with Nurse Green to do every 
 thing for the comfort of the invalid. 
 
 Recommending a bowl of warm gruel for the poo* 
 man, the Doctor also hurried away to make a tardy call 
 upon his other patients. Nurse Green went quietly to 
 her work in the shed, hoping Mr. Hayden would fall 
 asleep. But he was no sooner alone than he arose 
 feebly, and sat upon the side of his bed, his eyes cast 
 down to the floor ; then he slowly raised them, and took 
 a full survey of everything which the room contained. 
 After two or three efforts, he succeeded in walking across
 
 IN DISGUISE. 37? 
 
 the room to a rocking-chair, in which he sat, when Min- 
 nie, directed by her brother, who from the inner room had 
 anxiously watched his father's motions, advanced shyly 
 toward him, turning her head a little on one side, and 
 glancing up through her curls in a most winning man- 
 ner. She could not understand the shade of anguish 
 which passed over his face, and was about to dart back 
 to her brother, when the poor desolate father beckoned 
 her toward him. 
 
 " Dear papa, dear papa" she repeated softly, putting 
 her little hand in his. 
 
 The father's heart was touched, and he caught the 
 child to his breast with a violence which frightened her. 
 Dexter came forward and soothed her, saying: " Minnie 
 loves poor papa, Minnie's glad papa's come home ;" and 
 the loving spirit of the child was moved by the loud 
 sobs which were bursting from his agonized heart She 
 took her tiny apron, and wiped away the tears which 
 were flowing like a river down his pale cheek. 
 
 Blessed tears, wh#t a relief to his pent up grief! Even 
 Dexter, who had been frightened at his silent woe, under- 
 stood this. Minnie's apron was soon saturated, and 
 Dexter passed him a large handkerchief from the drawer. 
 And now father and son wept together, as the latter 
 related the circumstances of his mother's sickness and 
 deaths her last words of blessing upon them, and love 
 for him. " Until the day she died," he repeated. " she 
 never ceased to speak of you, and to impress it upon 
 our minds to be obedient to all your wishes, because she 
 knew if you ever returned, you would need the soothing 
 influence of sympathy and affection."
 
 376 THK HOUSEHOLD ANGKL 
 
 Though every word was a dagger to the heart of I'm 
 bereaved husband, yet he bid his son go on : " Tell me 
 all," he sobbed out, " every word ; don't spare me ;" a IK) 
 Dexter did tell him all her patience through her !ono 
 sickness; her desire to live for the sake of her child! MI 
 but her entire submission to her heavenly Father's will 
 " ' He will provide,' was her daily remark as she drew 
 nearer her end." He narrated, also, something of the 
 kindness of friends who had been raised up for them, the 
 unfailing goodness of young Mrs. Sydney, and what a 
 comfort she had been to them in their poverty and griel 
 " As mother received from you neither letter nor mes- 
 sage, she feared your close confinement had killed you , 
 but beside these parting words, she wrote you a long 
 letter which she put into rny hands in case you should 
 return. ' Tell him,' she said, when she gave it to me, 
 * that I love him as well as ever, and that God has com- 
 forted my dying bed with the blessed assurance that 1 
 shall meet him in Heaven.' " 
 
 " Give it to me," gasped the poor, man, putting out liia 
 hand. But Dexter replied : " Dear father, it would be 
 better to delay it until another time. I have still much 
 to tell you, and Nurse Green has brought your gruel. 
 Neither you nor 1 have had any breakfast." 
 
 Minnie slipped from her father's lap and climbed into 
 the chair. It was really affecting to see how humbly 
 Mr. Hayden deferred his own wishes to those of his son. 
 In that hour of sorrow, Dexter established an influence 
 over his father which was never lost. To please Minnie 
 he took a seat at the table, though she little knew what 
 a pang it cost him ; but his life was now to be made uo
 
 IN DISGUISE. 377 
 
 of sorrow. The child reverently folded hei small hands 
 and shut her eyes, then quickly opened then to see if he 
 were pleased at her good conduct. To her astonishment 
 the big tears were rolling down his cheeks. Her sympa- 
 thies were instantly excited : " Papa, pray ; make you 
 feel better; when Minnie cry, mamma say, ' Minnie pray,' 
 make me well." 
 
 But the father only shook his head, and looked im- 
 ploringly at his son. 
 
 Dexter waited no longer. In a solemn voice he im- 
 plored a blessing upon the meat, in a few touching words 
 thanking God that, though their beloved mother was taken 
 away, he had restored to them their dear father, from 
 whom they had so long been separated. Oh, that simple, 
 earnest prayer ! How long it lived in the father's 
 memory ! It was the word spoken in season, which pierced 
 even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit ; and be- 
 came, under the influence of the Holy Ghost, mighty to the 
 salvation of his soul. God had heard the fervent, im- 
 portunate prayers of his wife, and He was waiting to be 
 gracious. 
 
 Mr. Hayden made a great effort to calm his feelings. 
 He ruined the bowl to his lips and tried to swallow ; but 
 his emotions choked him, and he abruptly left the table, 
 and retired to the inner room. 
 
 Dexier was much perplexed to know whether he ought 
 (o follow him, but. a look from Nurse Green decided him 
 to reir.ain where he was. Directly after breakfast the 
 children had been wont to kneel by the bedside of their 
 mother; but now that she \vns gone, what were they to 
 do? It was her dying request to Dexter, f ha* ae
 
 378 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 continue these family devotions with his sister. He 
 therefore seated Minnie by his side, and taking the Bible 
 and Prayer-book, in a broken voice, commenced reading- 
 When he concluded, violent sobs from the inner room 
 arrested his attention. The door had been opened, and 
 the poor penitent was upon his knees, while the fervent cry 
 of the publican, " God be merciful to me a sinner," was 
 upon his lips. Such a cry never goes forth in vain ! 
 
 Two days later, Mr. Hayden having received from his 
 son the letter of his dying wife, retired to his chamber, 
 where, with trembling hands he broke the seal, opened 
 and read, as follows : 
 
 " My very dear husband, 
 
 " Though I know not whether you are in the land 
 of the living, yet I feel constrained to write you this 
 farewell, so that, if you should ever return to your family, 
 you may know how fully and freely I have forgiven all 
 the past, and with what an assurance of hope I look 
 forward to spending an eternity with you in Heaven. 
 Yes, God has heard my prayers in your behalf, and has 
 granted me an answer of peace. All my nights of 
 wrestling for you are over ; all my inward groaning, lest 
 the separation which has been so afflictive, should be 
 eternal. I am soon going home, and there, in God's 
 own good time, I hope to meet you. 
 
 " Later. Every day I grow weaker, and I rejoice that 
 my sojourn is almost ended. I shall soon be with my 
 Saviour, where I shall be free from sin and sorrow. My 
 heavenly Father has taken from death its only remaining 
 terror, the thought of leaving my children. But why
 
 IN DISGUISE. ->79 
 
 should I fear? He i? a covenant keeping God, and will 
 provide for them. He has raised them up friends, and J 
 vi u cheerfully leave Ihem in his paternal care. 
 
 Sabbath morning. The film of death has aheady be- 
 gun to gather over my eyes. My pen trembles in my 
 hand, but a few lines will assure you that the Saviour is 
 my support. His presence will lighten the dark valley. 
 His right arm will uphold me amidst the swellings of 
 Jordan. I shall soon be safe in my heavenly home. 
 Bear in mind that your Maria loved you to the end, and 
 that my last earthly thought will be a prayer for blessings 
 on your head. 
 
 " Let every ." 
 
 The last sentence was interrupted by a violent fit of 
 coughing, and was never finished. 
 
 In the meantime the family at Lindenwood (for all 
 of them had become interested in Alice's protege's), were 
 planning what was best to be done for the reformed man. 
 The wish of the young wife, Mrs. Sydney, to take charge 
 of Minnie, seemed no longer feasible, since it would bo 
 cruel to separate the children from their afflicted father 
 Fncle Stephen renewed his proposal to his young al 
 moner to draw upon him tfl any extent she might deem 
 necessary to set up the man in some permanent business. 
 It was easily ascertained, through Mr. Gates, that he 
 had formerly been a master-mason, and at the time he was 
 married, considered one of the best workmen in the town. 
 The man who had taken his place, was induced, by the 
 representation of Clarence, to offer him work, upon the 
 condition, if his reformation were permanent, of shoitly
 
 380 THE HOUSKHOLD AXGEL. 
 
 taking him into partnership; an arrangement equal!) 
 beneficial to both. 
 
 His kind friends did not wish to hurry him. They 
 preferred to give him time to recruit his strength, and 1o 
 improve by the affliction which had visited him. But 
 when Clarence, at the request of his wife, called to in- 
 form him of the arrangements which had been made, he 
 found he had removed a burden which weighed heavily 
 upon Mr. Hayden's mind. The poor man, with his 
 humiliating views of himself, felt that he could never 
 venture to solicit employment from those acquainted 
 with his former character, and had even meditated a re 
 inoval to a town where he was not known. This he knew 
 would be a sad trial for Dexter, as he would be obliged 
 to leave the Academy where he was so successfully prose- 
 cuting his studies. He acknowledged the kindness, with 
 a fervor which showed the relief it had afforded him, es- 
 pecially when Mrs. Green was requested to remain for 
 the present, and take care of the family.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " Not for this span of life alone, 
 
 Which as a blast doth fly, 
 And, like the transient flower of grass, 
 
 Just blossom, droop, and die ; 
 But for a being without end, 
 
 This vow of love we take. 
 Grant us, O God ! one home at last, 
 
 For our Redeemer's sake." Mrs. Sigourney. 
 
 IT was now the third week in April. Mr. Stanley 
 had gone to New York to meet Gertrude, and prepara- 
 tions were going on briskly for Emma's wedding. Every 
 mail brought a long epistle from Prof. Fowler, consulting 
 his betrothed with reference to arrangements about the 
 house, and on other subjects. During the winter and 
 spring, she had also received many kind letters and mes- 
 sages from the quaint old lady, her ci-devant travelling 
 companion, and also from her daughter Julia. I will 
 quote from one of the former. 
 
 :< Although I have not for many years been used to 
 writing letters, except to my children, yet my son assures 
 me that you will not take it amiss if I tell you how 
 pleased I was when he informed me you had consented 
 to be his wife. I can't quite understand how it all came 
 about so soon ; and, when I asked my son, he only 
 smiled, and said he hardly knew himself. Now, tbough 
 
 381
 
 OgO THR HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 he is one of the best of children, yet I must say he i* 
 c.ear Fowler in regard to talking. His father was jusi 
 so before him, while the Perkinses (my ancestor.) wer 
 famous for being social and free. I often tell my darter 
 Julia (the one, you know, I was carrying the cnrra, 
 wine to) that I don't feel altogether at ease with } 
 brother, especially since he's got to be a professor; and 
 [ hope you'll accept this as the best apology I can o 
 for not introducing you to him the day we rode together. 
 I was astonished, I must confess, when he told me 
 had never even mentioned the subject to you; and, tc 
 tell the truth, that is why I was more willing to writ 
 a stranger, that you might not think I was ignorant , 
 what belonged to good manners. 
 
 "Hoping that you will take what I have written i 
 good part, I will close by saying that, as soon as 1 
 m y son was going to be married, I hired a woman, 
 Phebe Davson by name, into the house, to make hm 
 up a set of linen and a set of cotton shirts, toget 
 with all other necessary articles for his wardrobe. 
 Tn great haste, your very true friend, 
 
 HANNAH P. FOVVLKR. 
 
 P S In reading my 'letter over this morning, I see 
 1 have forgotten to tell you that you'll be right welcome 
 to the family, and to none of them more so than fa 
 as I tell my son I am the best acquainted with you 
 any of them. I also forgot to tell you that I have con 
 menced on a dozen pairs of lambswool stockings 
 
 Yours, 
 
 H. P. FOWLER."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 383 
 
 The wedding was to take place on the morning of the 
 first day of May, when the bridal party would attend 
 the newly married pair about one hundred milus on their 
 way toward the Falls of Niagara. On their return, a 
 party of friends were invited to meet them at the Hall, 
 when they immediately proceeded to B . 
 
 The .arrival of Gertrude in fine spirits, and looking 
 more beautiful than ever, caused quite a jubilee in the 
 family. The meeting between Gertrude and Edith was 
 truly affecting, such a change had taken place in each 
 of them since they last met. It was not, however, until 
 on retiring to rest, they knelt side by side, and offered 
 their earnest prayers for protection, pardon, and peace, 
 that either realized the beauty which religion had im- 
 parted to the character of the other. 
 
 The day following Gertrude's return, when the whole 
 family were assembled in the parlor, a servant entered 
 with a card, which she presented to Gertrude, \vho, with 
 a very rosy hue upon her bright countenance, passed it 
 to her father. Mr. Stanley smiled as he ordered the 
 servant to show the gentleman into the room. 
 
 Alice glanced at her husband, but he was evidently at 
 a loss to conceive the cause of the mysterious smiles of 
 her parents or the blushes of her sister. They had not 
 long to wait, however, for Mr. Stanley stepped toward 
 the door, and cordially welcomed Mr. Henderson, from 
 Baltimore. Gertrude also advanced a few steps, and, if 
 her words did not express as much as her father's, the 
 gentleman appeared fully satisfied with his reception. 
 Mr. Stanley then turned to introduce his wife, when, to 
 the astonishment of all present, with a surden start ho
 
 384 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 sprang forward, and grasped both her hands, while 
 u Charles ! " " Marion ! " and Can it be possible ? " 
 were all that for a time could be heard, as the two ear- 
 nestly gazed at each other. But soon, remembering that 
 her friend had not yet been introduced to all the family, 
 Mrs. Stanley led him first to Uncle Stephen, and then 
 to each of the others, saying, " This is my dear friend, 
 of whom you have so often heard me speak, the 
 Charles, Alice, about whom I have related so many 
 pleasing reminiscences." 
 
 All formality was now ended by this recognition ; and 
 Mr. Henderson, or Charley, as his early friend Marion 
 called him, was received at once as a member of the 
 family. 
 
 She drew him shortly into the large window, where 
 he was very earnest in telling her some piece of good 
 news, to which she listened with pleased attention, until 
 he said, " How very singular, Marion, that, instead of a 
 name by which I once aspired to call you, my highest 
 ambition now is to dignify you with the title of mamma!" 
 
 The merry peal of laughter which burst from both of 
 them called forth an answering echo in the room ; and 
 Gertrude, obeying a summons from her mother, advanced 
 to inquire the cause. 
 
 Mr. Henderson arose and gave her a seat, while lie 
 drew a chair near, as he said, " Now, Gertrude, I may as 
 well confess that I have not told you all my wild pranks. 
 I suppose Marion would be hinting that you were not 
 my first love ; so I'll tell you all. When I was a boy of 
 
 fourteen, I lived in C , and was the nearest neighbor 
 
 of Marion Thurston. I had no sisters, and she had no
 
 IN DISGUISE 385 
 
 brothers ; so it was natural that she should call upon me 
 for any of the kind offices, such as are usually rendered 
 by brothers, and it was nothing more than natural that 
 I should love to render them." A merry glance at Ger- 
 trude's downcast eyes and heightened color warned the 
 young man he was treading on dangerous ground, and 
 he leaned forward and whispered a few impassioned 
 words in her ear. 
 
 " Go on," was her only reply. 
 
 " Well, Marion was at that time, in my eyes at least, 
 a very pretty, modest little girl, very unlike the other 
 misses of my acquaintance. When my father died," he 
 added, with a saddened voice, " (my mother died when 
 T was an infant,) there was no one who could soothe 
 me like Marion ; and I was rendered happier than I ever 
 expected to be again by an arrangement her father made 
 to take me into his family, that I might pursue my 
 studies under his care. My little companion did every- 
 thing to make me forget my sorrow, and Mr. Thurston 
 acted toward me the part of a tender father. One day 
 Marion and I were sitting together in a small vine-cov- 
 ered arbor at the foot of the garden, when T told her 
 that I loved her better than a sister, and asked her, when 
 we grew up, to be my wife." 
 
 Poor Gertrude ! she could not help it. She drew 
 away the small hand he had made prisoner. It was 
 hard to think he had loved another. 
 
 Mr. Henderson, with rather a grave expression, hurried 
 
 to the conclusion of his story. " But Marion told me 
 
 we were too young to think upon such subjects ; that 
 
 she loved me very dearly as a sister ; but that I should 
 
 33
 
 386 THE HOUSEHOLD AXGEJ, 
 
 soon go away to become a merchant, and then I should 
 be glad that we had not been so foolish as to engage 
 ourselves to each other, for I might see some one I 
 should like much better. Marion always was wise 
 beyond her years; and in this case she certainly mani- 
 fested great wisdom. That scene in the arbor was 
 twenty years ago ; and from that time until I saw you, 
 dearest," he said, respectfully taking her hand, and low- 
 ering his voice, " I have never seen a lady of whom ] 
 should wish to ask such a question." 
 
 He spoke so sadly, as if he feared he had offended 
 her, and yet so earnestly, that Gertrude rewarded his 
 frankness with a bright glance of affection. 
 
 "There!" said he, starting up, " I feel happier than 
 ever. I have confessed all my sins in that line, and re- 
 ceived absolution. I'll look out and behave well for the 
 future." 
 
 " I wouldn't like to be responsible for you," said 
 Marion, laughing ; " you are just the same Charley as 
 of old. But, if Gertrude is willing to try, I can be 
 surety for you that you will keep nothing concealed from 
 her. You never could keep a secret, Charley." 
 
 Mr. Stanley now approached, and said, " I think it is 
 high time for me to come forward, and hear what is so 
 secret." 
 
 " It was so joyful and unexpected a meeting with my 
 old friend," answered Mr. Henderson, " that I begin to 
 think I've acted very foolishly in carrying her back to old 
 times, about which she seems to have forgotten/' 
 
 During the few days which intervened before (he 
 redding, Charley, as the whole family soon learned to
 
 IN DISGUISE. 38 / 
 
 call him, made himself so useful, that Emma said she 
 did not see how they had ever done without him. 
 
 Mr. Stanley had communicated to the family the fact 
 of his conditional engagement to Gertrude, while they 
 were at the South, but to which she could not fully con- 
 sent without the knowledge and approbation of her 
 parents. Now, however, the engagement was ratified by 
 their approval. 
 
 Mr. Henderson had spent the past winter in Aiken, a 
 celebrated resort for invalids, having gone there to accom- 
 pany a son of his partner, where he met Gertrude, who, 
 with her friend, was boarding at the same hotel. Their 
 acquaintance soon ripened into friendship, and friendship 
 into love ; and, when she left for the north, he accom- 
 panied the party with which she travelled as far as New 
 York, and there obtained permission from her father to 
 follow them to Lindenwood. 
 
 The day before Emma was to leave, Doctor Jenks 
 called to bid her farewell. He seemed in fine spirits, and 
 told her he was looking forward to a wedding in the fall, 
 when Maurice returned. Seeing her look of astonish- 
 ment, he continued, " I have received a letter from Capt 
 Bruce, in which he tells me that the conduct of my son 
 has been so exemplary, that he has promoted him to be 
 first mate. And in a letter Maurice wrote to Amy, he 
 claims her promise that when he is thus advanced, she 
 will become Mrs. .lenks, junior. Poor Amy little thought 
 he would claim her so soon ; but I tell her a promise is a 
 promise, and ir wont do for her to be setting him an ex- 
 ample of violating his word. 'Twould be hard for wife 
 and I to give her up, she worked so naturally right into
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 the place of a daughter. Wife was saying yesterday she 
 never had had her caps done up so neatly, and she thinks 
 it is all because Amy is Scotch." 
 
 In the evening, when Professor Fowler arrived with 
 his sister, Mrs. Julia Norton, Mr. Henderson looked upon 
 him with envy, as being on the eve of his marriage. lie 
 oven went to Mr. Stanley to beg that his nuptials might 
 be celebrated at the same time. Mr. Stanley shook his 
 head, but sent him to his daughter, who decidedly refused 
 to be spirited oft' in such a hurry, and told him he de- 
 served to wait a year for thinking of such a thing. 
 
 "If you'll forgive me this once," he began with 
 mock gravity ; but Gertrude interrupted him, though she 
 could not refrain from laughing. " Stop, stop ! " said 
 ?he, " I'm tired out of your confessions and promises. 
 You've done nothing for the last week but to offend, and 
 make resolutions of amendment. When will you ever 
 seriously set about improving 1 " 
 
 " Just as soon, dear Gertrude," he answered, his coun- 
 tenance becoming serious, " as you will take me under 
 your training. But really, love, tell me if I have pained 
 you by my levity 1 I have so very light a heart, I may 
 have erred." 
 
 Gertrude was obliged to turn away to conceal a tear 
 which was glistening in her eye. The frankness and 
 good temper of her friend was a cordial to her heart, for 
 she knew him to be possessed of a deep, warm under- 
 current of principle and affection. Perceiving that he 
 spoke seriously, she said, in a low voice, which she vainly 
 endeavored to render calm, " I think, then, I must com- 
 mence my discipline very soon, or you will be beyond my 
 influence."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 389 
 
 May-day dawned clear and bright. The inmates of 
 Lindemvood Hall rose early, to be in preparation for the 
 good' clergyman, who was to arrive at nine. Emma 
 expressed much disappointment that Mrs. Fowler had 
 been detained at home by a sudden attack of sickness ; 
 but a large basket carefully packed in straw came from 
 her, directed to Emma. On opening it the preceding eve- 
 ning, the young bride found an old-fashioned silver tea 
 set, of quaint device, which she said she had always re- 
 served for her son, and which she requested Emma to 
 use on ordinary occasions. The reason of the latter re- 
 quest was evident, when Prof. Fowler conveyed to her 
 room a magnificent service of plate, more modern in 
 style, though no more really valuable. " Please accept 
 this from your new sister Julia," whispered Mrs. Norton. 
 
 At nine the bridal party entered the parlor, equipped 
 for their journey. The family, with Rev. Mr. Badger, 
 Dr. Jenks, and a few intimate friends, awaited them. 
 Without taking their seats, they stood before the clergy- 
 man, when Professor Fowler took from his finger the 
 mystic ring, which was so soon to unite them for life. 
 
 Just as the ceremony was about to commence, the 
 bridegroom, noticing that the young girl leaning on his 
 arm trembled excessively, could not refrain from saying, 
 in a voice intended only for her ear, " Dearest, it shall be 
 (he aim of my life to render you so happy that you will 
 never regret this moment." 
 
 If his mother had only heard him, she might have 
 thought, " Well, after all, there may be something of the 
 Perkins about him ; that's so like me." 
 
 The wedding was over, the bride'.'; cake had been 
 33*
 
 390 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 passed, and the party were waiting for the carriage t*, 
 convey them to the depot. Uncle Stephen, who had sud- 
 denly disappeared immediately after the ceremony, was 
 seen beckoning the bride from the room. She hastened 
 to join him, when he put into her hand a folded piper, 
 saying, as he hastily turned away, " Just for your name, 
 you know." 
 
 " Dear, kind Uncle Stephen ! " said the warm-hearted 
 girl, glancing at its contents, and thrusting it into her 
 pocket, " is it only for my name that you have always 
 been so very kind to me, and tried to help me to be a 
 good girl ? Don't you love me a very little for myself, 
 too ? " and she clasped her arms closely around his neck. 
 
 " There, child ! " he answered, Kissing her heartily, 
 while the tears began to stream down his cheeks. " I'm 
 an old fool to cry when I'm so happy. You're a good 
 girl, Emma, and I myself shouldn't have objected to tak- 
 ing you for a wife." 
 
 This was the greatest compliment Uncle Stephen ever 
 paid, and the bride could not help smiling through her 
 tears. " I love you a great deal better as Uncle Ste- 
 phen," she said, laughing, and again kissing her good-bye. 
 
 When they were seated in the cars, Emma placed the 
 folded paper in the hands of her husband. 
 
 He started. " Why, Emma, you didn't tell me you were 
 an heiress ! " 
 
 " Am I ?" she asked, smiling ; " I didn't know it my- 
 self." 
 
 " Yes," he answered, reading from the paper, " you 
 have funds in two banks in New York, amounting to the 
 very pretty sum of fifteen thousand dollars."
 
 IN DISGUISE. 391 
 
 " I'm glad I didn't know it before," she said, archly. 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because " but the explanation was interrupted by 
 the conductor, who was patiently standing at the side of 
 the young husband, and who, finding his presence unno- 
 ticed, touched his shoulder, saying, " Tickets, if you 
 please." 
 
 Alice leaned over the seat, and whispered, " Clarence 
 says Prof. Fowler had better resign the tickets and bag- 
 gage to his care, until we leave you." 
 
 On the return of Gertrude and Alice with their party, 
 Mr. Henderson plead earnestly with his friend Marion to 
 intercede for him, that his marriage need not be delayed 
 beyond the first of June. He had in vain urged Gertrude 
 to consent to this. She had been absent several months, 
 and wished to remain at home until fall, especially as 
 Edith might leave the country at that time. 
 
 A very strong friendship had grown up between Ger- 
 trude and Edith. Notwithstanding both of them were 
 actuated by new principles and motives, entirely unlike 
 those which formerly governed their conduct, yet their 
 natural traits were unchanged. Gertrude was lively and 
 rather indolent, when nothing of special interest called 
 for her attention. To be sure she did not indulge herself 
 in this habit, as formerly ; but this was what she consid- 
 ered her infirmity. Edith, on the contrary, was firm, 
 self-relying, and energetic. These traits marked, also, 
 her religious character. She entered with her whole heart 
 into whatever she undertook. She might not always 
 choose the best, or wisest means, in the performance ol 
 an action ; but her zeal was untiring. In earlier life
 
 392 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 Edith, though several years younger, acquired a tcat 
 influence over Gertrude, and it was plainly to be seen 
 that she still leaned upon her. Happy was it for Ger- 
 trude that Lhe influence now was ever for good. 
 
 Would you do this ? " or " Shall I do that ? " were 
 questions which Gertrude had always been in the habit 
 ol asking. Now Edith endeavored to assist her to fix 
 principles by which to govern her conduct. " ' Is it 
 right?' is the question, dear sister, and the only question." 
 She would hardly admit there were any questions of 
 expediency which would not come under some settled 
 rule. 
 
 About a week after Emma had finally left them, as 
 Gertrude and Edith were sitting in the bright moonlight, 
 talking of the past, present, and future, " Do you know, 
 sister," asked the former, " that I think you are just the 
 one for a missionary ? " 
 
 Edith's countenance changed so suddenly that it could 
 not escape the notice of her sister ; but neither of them 
 spoke for a time. 
 
 At length Edith said, tremulously, " You would not 
 say that, if you knew my heart. Oh, it makes me shud- 
 der when I remember what a proud, rebellious heart 
 mine has been ! Sometimes," she added, her voice sink- 
 ing to a lower key, and expressing deep feeling, " some- 
 times I am tempted to fear that I cannot be forgiven ; 
 that my sins have been too aggravated. But that is only 
 when I forget the heavy price which has been paid for 
 my ransom. Far oftener my feelings are expressed by 
 the words which are ever running through my mind : 
 
 ' ' Love I much, I'm much forgiven, 
 I'm a miracle of grace.' "
 
 IN DISGt'ISE. 
 
 Gertrude grasped her sister's hand as she was speak- 
 ing, and was deeply moved by her earnest words. 
 
 After a long pause, during which they sat gazing at 
 the bright moon shining in cloudless splendor, Gertende 
 asked, " Do you never feel sad at the thought of lea\iii" 
 all you love, and going so far away to live and die among 
 the heathen ? " 
 
 Edith smiled sadly as she replied, " You have asked in 
 a few words a question it would take me a long time to 
 answer. In the first place, though I leave you, dear Ger- 
 trude, and never, until within the last few weeks, have 
 known how dearly I loved you, yet I take my dearest 
 friends with me. Without one of them at least, my 
 heart would indeed sink, go where I would." 
 
 " One of them ? Why, Edith, I didn't know any one 
 was to accompany you but Alfred." 
 
 " You forget in whose service we go," was the whis- 
 pered response, " and he says, ' I will never leave you nor 
 forsake you.' " Then she added, aloud, " When I see 
 you and Charley together, or Alice and Clarence, and 
 think how many other ties you have to distract your af- 
 fections, it often brings to mind the fact that soon Alfred 
 and T shall be all the world to each other. I mean as far 
 as society and social enjoyment is concerned. I almost 
 tremble to think his happiness will be so dependent upon 
 me, for my temper is so easily aroused. Dear Gertrude ! " 
 she exclaimed, with a burst of feeling, "you will not for- 
 get to pray forme. Think, too," she added, after a pause, 
 " vhat blessings I have. What a friend Alfred ha? 
 proved himself to be; and then think what a glorious 
 work to be engaged in! To carry the news of a ciuci-
 
 394 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 fied Saviour to the poor, deluded heathen. Perhaps you 
 cannot realize it ; but I think it would be the greatest 
 trial of my life not, to go and labor for their salvation , 
 at the same time I fully appreciate the sacrifice it will-be 
 to part from so many dear and tried friends. A father, 
 mother, and sisters, who have borne with my obstinacy, 
 my petulance, my self-will, and have loved me, notwith- 
 standing all my faults. 1 am surprised, too, at Uncle Ste- 
 phen, whon he knows me so well, that he should deem me 
 worthy to go out under his patronage, and as a compan- 
 ion for one whom he has loved and treated like a son ; 
 but Alfred told me, when I urged my character as an ob- 
 jection, that he had expressed himself as well satisfied 
 with the choice. 
 
 Many conversations like the above took place during 
 the summer, not only with Edith, but with every mem- 
 ber of the family, for Edith had become very frank, with 
 all her friends. Especially did she enjoy a quiet talk with 
 Uncle Stephen about the manners and customs of the peo- 
 ple among whom she was so soon to dwell. He informed 
 her of the present state of the mission, read to her letters 
 from Mr. and Mrs. Huntington, and then expressed more 
 fully his wishes with regard to the schools, and the print- 
 ing press, which he had lately sent out. At length one 
 day when she was looking over and referring to a letter 
 Uncle Stephen had read her, she came to a few words 
 which he informed her were in Hindoostanee, when the 
 thought suddenly occurred to her, " Why couldn't I be 
 learning the language ? " Her face flushed wHh pleasure 
 at the thought, and she eagerly inquired, " Have you any 
 elementary books in the language ? "
 
 IN DISGUISE. 395 
 
 " No," he replied, though he added, after a moment, " I 
 think Clarence has." 
 
 " And will you assist me if 1 try to be getting an in- 
 sight into it ? And will you keep my secret ? " were 
 her rapid questions. 
 
 Without answering, Uncle Stephen walked quickly 
 into the adjoining room, where Clarence kept his private 
 library, his law books being at his office, and soon re- 
 turned with a small book, answering to an English 
 primer, and also a dictionary. " Clarence would gladly 
 teach you," he said. 
 
 But no, Edith preferred him for a teacher, and a teacher 
 he gladly consented to be. Ever since his return to Amer- 
 ica she had heard both Uncle Stephen and Clarence use 
 expressions in Hindoostanee, and when Alfred first came 
 to the Hall, he had taught her several phrases, with which 
 she had delighted her school companions on her return to 
 
 F , so that the sound of the language was not wholly 
 
 unfamiliar to her ear. She took a lesson in the sound of 
 the letters that very day, and lay awake nearly half the 
 night, trying to recall the meaning of certain words 
 which were running through her mind. When at last 
 she fell asleep, the curiously-formed letters were dancing 
 before her excited vision, while half-clad Hindoos seemed 
 screaming meaningless words in her ears. 
 
 It is doubtful .whether Uncle Stephen or his pupil 
 bettor enjoyed the hour passed in spelling, writing, or 
 ^peaking the strange tongue. The old gentleman was 
 proud of his own skill as a teacher, and he was still more 
 proiul of Edi ih's success, which was indeed remarkable. 
 He looked forward with intense delight to the time when
 
 396 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 her secret snould be discovered, and many were the plans 
 made and rejected for bringing it to light when the proper 
 moment should arrive. iJtiring the summer Gertrude and 
 Edith found full occupation for their needles, in the pre- 
 parations for the double ceremony which was to take 
 place some time in the fall, and in these engagements 
 they found efficient assistance from their mother and 
 Alice, though the latter spent much time in the village, 
 in her visits among the poor. She had long before- given 
 up her equestrian habits, and Clarence had purchased 
 a light carriage, in which she could drive Felix, who was 
 perfectly tractable. Minnie Hay den had commenced 
 attending an infant school, and might be seen at recess 
 keeping tight hold of the hand of her little friend, Lizzy 
 Gates, T)ex*r leading them to and from school.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIJ. 
 
 " I venerate the man whose heart is warm, 
 
 Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life 
 
 Coincident, exhibit lucid proof 
 
 That he is honest in the sacred cause." Cowper. 
 
 IN the month of August Alfred arrived from New 
 Haven, having completed his theological course. Edith 
 had long wished to visit Planesville, to render in per- 
 son her thanks to the kind woman who had befriended 
 her on a former occasion ; and Alfred accompanied her 
 there. Miss Edith Carey, with her brilliant complexion, 
 her large eyes, beaming with a mellowed light, her luxu- 
 riant black hair, twisted like a coronal around her brow, 
 appeared wholly unlike the insane wanderer whose pale, 
 haggard face, whose wildly gleaming eyes, and dishevelled 
 locks had so frightened the country-woman, by her sud- 
 den appearance. When Mr. Huntington, after numerous 
 inquiries for the retired place, drove into the yard, Edilh, 
 who remembered nothing of the persons she had come 
 to visit, saw a neatly dressed female standing before a 
 churn in the open shed, while, seated on a braided mat, 
 near her, was an infant, playing with a basket of clothes- 
 pins. 
 
 At the imminent danger of leaving her butter, which 
 had just begun " to come," to turn back to cream, the 
 
 o4 397
 
 398 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 farmer's wife left her churning, and advanced to the dooi 
 to welcome her visitors. She rather hesitated, as shfc 
 saw they were strangers, but supposing they might wish 
 to purchase butter or cream, she stood, while they de- 
 scended from the carriage, modestly awaiting them. 
 Edith cordially advanced, and presented her hand, say- 
 ing, as she did so : " Is this Mrs. Goodwin ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am,'' she replied, dropping a courtesy. 
 
 " I see you do not remember me," continued Edith, 
 smiling, though rather sadly ; " and yet I have visited 
 you and passed, at least, one night under your roof, 
 which, if I have been rightly informed, deprived you of 
 your rest, so that you were obliged to hold your infant 
 in your arms until morning." 
 
 " Can it be possible ? " inquired Mrs. Goodwin, having 
 surveyed, from head to foot, the tall, elegantly dressed 
 lady before her. " No," she added, as if speaking to her- 
 self, " the sick girl was very unlike this one." 
 
 " But I am the very one of whom you took such kind 
 care, and if you will allow us to walk in, I will soon 
 convince you of it." 
 
 With many blushes and apologies for her impoliteness 
 in allowing them to stand at the door, Mrs. Goodwin invi- 
 ted them into her neat, cool apartment, which, as formerly, 
 answered the double purpose of sitting and sleeping 
 rooms. Hastily shaking up the feathers in a small, red- 
 covered cushion, which graced the wooden rocking-chair, 
 and pushing it toward Edith, the hostess begged her 
 vi^itOAs to make themselves at home, and she would call 
 Joshua to put up the horse. 
 
 The room, from having been shut np since sunrise,
 
 IN Dtsnrrs!;. 399 
 
 was deliciously rool, the thick paper shades keeping 
 out almost every ray of light. Edith seated herself, and 
 laid aside her bonnet, much. pleased with the situation in 
 which she found herself, sheltered so completely from the 
 scorching rays of the sun. It was some time before her 
 eyes became enough accustomed to the darkness to see 
 what the room contained. In one corner stood a low 
 bedstead, made up very round and high, showing plainly 
 there was no stint of feathers in its manufacture. This 
 was covered with a gayly-colored patchwork quilt, upon 
 which much taste had been expended in the arrangement 
 of the figures. By its side stood a chest, of drawers, the 
 top neatly covered with a snow-white napkin, while a 
 family Bible, eased in brown cambric, lay upon it. Just 
 above the Bible hung a small mirror, ornamented with 
 green feathery asparagus, with its bright-red berries, a 
 pitcher filled with the same, also stood in the chimney- 
 corner. A table, upon which lay a few select and well- 
 preserved books, together with half a dozen chairs com- 
 pleted the survey. Nothing could have better proved 
 the change in Edith to be radical, than to mark the ex- 
 pression of her countenance as her eye rested, first upon 
 one article, then upon another, in the simple apartment. 
 Formerly she would have regarded the whole with su- 
 preme contempt, or as so far beneath her as to be un- 
 worthy to excite any other feeling than profound indif- 
 ference ; but now, in the Bible, so neatly covered, and 
 reveren'ly placed, she read the characters of her host and 
 hostess, as lovers of the sacred truths it contained, as 
 fellow-travellers, looking forward with herself to tho same
 
 400 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 blessed home in the skies, and she felt bound to them by 
 the strongest lies of Christian affection. 
 
 At the sound of a man's voice speaking to the norse, 
 as he drove to the well-stored barn, Mr. Huntington had 
 stepped out to say that it would not be worth the while- 
 to unharness, as their stay would be very short, But the 
 hospitable host, would not consent to such an arrange- 
 ment. His wife had told him, in a word, who had come, 
 and he \vas proud to show them that they were welcome. 
 He now entered, in company with Alfred, to be intro- 
 duced to the lady, and was immediately followed by his 
 wife, who, after summoning a boy from the garden to 
 finish the churning, had hastily arranged her own toilet, 
 by re-smoothing her hair, and tying on a clean, white 
 apron, and now came in to add her earnest invitation to 
 that of her husband, that their visitors would remain 
 through the day, and ride home in the cool of the even- 
 ing. Both Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin were so earnest in 
 their desire to entertain the young lady toward whom 
 they felt such an interest, that neither she nor her friend 
 could well refuse, and Edith consented, on the condition 
 that their hostess would not allow their coming to in- 
 terrupt her duties. 
 
 " La sakes!'' exclaimed Joshua, " wife don't have sut n 
 a sight o' company that she can't afford to give up one 
 day to entertaining of 'em, and I a'n't at all driv with 
 work now; 'twill be a treat to both on us." 
 
 The boy at this moment put in his head at the door, 
 apparently to make the announcement : " Miss Good- 
 win, your butter's come as hard as shot," but, 
 , to take a survey of the new arrival ; and Edith
 
 IN DISGUISE. 401 
 
 begged leave to accompany her to the shed, where they 
 had seen her at work. This shed was attached to the 
 house, opening from the kitchen, and had large doors on 
 cither side, so that there was a fine draught of air through 
 it. Mrs. Goodwin brought out the rocking-chair, and 
 placed it in the most comfortable situation, while Mr. 
 Huntington followed his host to the door, where they 
 were shell ered from the sun, and sat down upon the 
 steps. 
 
 " This is the coolest place, Edith, I've found to-day," 
 he said, looking back into the room ; " I ought not to 
 complain of the heat," he added, addressing the fanner 
 by his side, "for I was born under a hotter sun than you 
 ever saw." 
 
 " Du tell, now ; where was it ? " asked his companion, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " In , about fifty miles north of Calcutta, in the 
 
 East Indies." 
 
 " Sakes alive ! " exclaimed Joshua, with awe, while 
 his wife dropped back into the butter-milk the ball of 
 butter which she had been dexterously working with two 
 vooden spoons. 
 
 " Yes," continued Alfred, "my father is a missionary, 
 laboring among the Hindoos, and Miss Carey and I are 
 hoping soon to join them, and spend our lives in trying 
 to biing them to a knowledge of Christ." 
 
 " Then you're missionaries ! " exclaimed Joshua and 
 his wife, in a breath, and looking earnestly from one to 
 another. 
 
 " Yes," said Edith, softly, " \ve hope to be. Chough I 
 know I am not worthy." This remark was added from 
 34*
 
 402 
 
 Tin: HOUSEHOLD 
 
 observing the intense surprise manifes ed in the an- 
 nouncement, and entirely mistaking the cause. Slit 
 knew both Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin had seen her under 
 the most unfavorable circumstances, and well know- 
 ing that they could not be aware of the entire 
 renovation of her character, she thought, they would 
 naturally consider her very unfit for the station to which 
 she aspired. 
 
 But nothing could have been further from the truth, 
 and, indeed, as Mrs. Goodwin took her apron, and wiped 
 her eyes with the back of her hand, she would have been 
 puzzled to explain her own feelings, so fluttered was she 
 at the unexpected pleasure and honor of seeing real 
 missionaries, of speaking with them and of even enter- 
 taining them under her humble roof. She had heard a great 
 deal about missions and missionaries, from the pulpit ; 
 and her mother, who lived in a neighboring town, occa- 
 sionally sent her papers containing missionary intelli- 
 gence. She and her husband always laid by a small 
 sum, from their earnings, to be sent to the heathen ; but 
 the idea of ever knowing a missionary, of hearing from 
 his own lips, about the great work in which he was en- 
 gaged, was so much above and beyond her expectations, 
 that she found it difficult to realize her own good for- 
 tune. Then there came welling up a feeling of pride as 
 ehe thought of the interest she should create by relating 
 to her mother, friends, and neighbor?, and even to her 
 good minister, the honor which had been conferred upon 
 her. All these thoughts rushed so quickly through her 
 mind that she was not aware how earnestly she ga/ed at 
 one, and then another, utterly unmindful of the task be- 
 'ore her
 
 IN DISGUISE. 403 
 
 Poor Joshua sat awkwardly twirling his thumbs, and 
 looking very much confused. If he had been told that 
 the gentleman sitting on the stone step by his side, was 
 the rich Squire Barstow, from New Yorkyof whom he had 
 heard so much, or the famous lawyer, C , from Boston, 
 he would not have felt embarrassed, for he was an inde- 
 pendent, true-hearted American farmer, owing no man 
 anything, and rejoicing in his liberty to think and act for 
 himself. But to have talked so freely with a missionary. 
 to be sitting there, on the back stoop, with a man who 
 was going to leave all his friends and home, to take his 
 life in his hands and go forth to dwell among heathen, 
 the ignorant, deluded heathen, amidst all the discomforts 
 of a barbarous state, to look forward cheerfully to it, for 
 the sake of his divine Master this, in his opinion, so 
 elevated and ennobled his guest, and rendered the em- 
 ployment in which he had heretofore prided himself 
 BO humble, from the contrast, that, for a time, he had 
 not a word to say. At length, he sighed heavily, as 
 he exclaimed: "Wife, 1 guess this ere gentleman and 
 lady better go in to their room, while I go out and water 
 the horse agin; I didn't gin him much, he was so warm." 
 
 " It isn't necessary, yet," responded Mr. Iluntington, 
 laying his hand gently on the man's arm, as he was 
 rising from his seat; "and you certainly wouldn't wish 
 to exclude us from the enjoyment of this fine breeze j 
 Edith," he added, addressing her gayly, to give him time 
 to recover himself, " this will be a good opportunity for 
 you to learn to make butter. All we shall have will be 
 of our own making. At any rate, from what I can re-
 
 404 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 member of the ^ant of neatness among the natives, 1 
 should hardly relish butter worked by them." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the boy coining, 
 from the barn with the fat baby asleep in his arms. He 
 had been dismissed there to amuse her with the chick- 
 ens until her mother could be at liberty to attend to her. 
 The faimer took her with a tenderness and skill which 
 proved him to be not wholly unused to such business, 
 and laid her upon the bed ; then, having watered the 
 horse, he returned to his seat to listen with great interest 
 to the conversation which was going on in the shed. 
 
 Mrs. Goodwin had now recovered the use of her 
 tongue ; and, while she rapidly advanced to the comple- 
 tion of her business, she asked innumerable questions 
 relative to Alfred's early days and their future life, think- 
 ing that, as she had such an opportunity to hear about 
 that which so much interested her, 'twould be extremely 
 foolish to waste it. Having motioned the boy, who 
 stood by her side, to carry thje wooden tray of golden- 
 colored balls to the cellar, she brought from a closet two 
 glasses of rich milk for her guests, which Alfred declared 
 was a fit treat for a queen. She moved about noise- 
 lessly, putting away dishes, and preparing for dinner, 
 her absorbing interest in the subject discussed rendering 
 her wholly forgetful of the awkwardness of doing so in 
 the presence of strangers ; and, before any of them were 
 aware, the table in the kitchen was spread with a neatly 
 fringed cloth from her best drawer, and covered with * 
 most tempting repast. Though the dishes happened to 
 be common delft ware, and set on without regard to the 
 latest style, of which she was wholly ignorant, yet the
 
 ix DisurisE. 40-") 
 
 young missionaries did their hostess's cookery ample 
 justice. There was white bread and brown bread of the 
 finest quality, a generous cake of butter stamped in the 
 form of a large oak-leaf, a dish of preserved strawber- 
 ries, fresh currants, custard and dried apple pies, cheese 
 both common and sage, with a plentiful supply of milk 
 for drink. 
 
 Edith as well as Alfred were hearty in their praise ; 
 the latter much delighted the good woman by saying, 
 " We shall often think of your hospitable board and cor- 
 dial welcome when we are thousands of miles distant." 
 
 After dinner Edith asked Alfred to repeat a few 
 phrases, that their kind friends might hear the sound of 
 his native tongue. He laughed, as he complied, to see 
 the open-mouthed astonishment with which they listened. 
 The boy, who was now eating his dinner, dropped his 
 knife and fork to hear. 
 
 " Can you understand such lingo ? " asked Joshua ol 
 Edith. " It don't seem as if it can mean anything." 
 
 She replied by repeating very rapidly, as if by rote, a 
 sentence he had taught her during his first visit to the 
 Hall. It was now her turn to laugh, as Alfred started in 
 surprise. " You didn't think I had so retentive a mem- 
 ory, I suppose," she added, archly. " Don't you remem- 
 ber when you taught me that ? Translate it for them." 
 " It is one petition of the Lord's Prayer," returned 
 Alfred, and he repeated the whole, in Tamul. " I well 
 remember the pleasure my father and mother experienced 
 when the small class of boys and girls in the mission 
 school repeated that prayer through in unison, and
 
 406 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 seemed to understand its import. Mother said it repaid 
 her for all the trials they had passed through." 
 
 The baby now awoke, and called loudly for attention. 
 Mrs. Goodwin went to her, and, after half an hour, 
 returned with the young miss dressed out in her best, to 
 see the company. She was not at all afraid, and went 
 willingly to Edith. 
 
 " What is her name ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am ashamed to tell you," replied her mother, " lhat 
 she has none but Baby. We keep putting it off, and 
 she's nine months old without our having fixed upon 
 one." 
 
 " I'll give her a name," said Alfred, coming toward 
 them " Edith Huntington. You couldn't have a pret- 
 tier," he added, smiling, as he saw the burning blush 
 which covered Edith's face. 
 
 " We'll do it ! " they both exclaimed ; " that is," hesi- 
 tated the mother, looking at Edith, " if it's agreeable to 
 her." 
 
 The young lady replied by imprinting a fervent kiss 
 upon its brow ; and so the important matter, which had 
 caused such earnest discussion in the long winter even- 
 ings was settled, and the little cherub was Baby no 
 longer, but Miss Edith Huntington Goodwin. 
 
 " I must have a kiss, Miss Edith, for giving you so 
 good a name," and Alfred bent down to the child. 
 ' When I get to India, I shall be sure to send you some 
 bangles, that you may never forget you were named for 
 a missionary." 
 
 " How would you like to go and live among the hea- 
 then, and teach them to be good ? " inquired Edith of
 
 I 
 
 IN DISGUISE. 40" 
 
 the boy, \vlio stood near them, eagerly listening to a!) 
 (hat passed. 
 
 The lad held down his head, and began making fig- 
 ares on the floor with his bare toes. But, long years after, 
 (hat question sounded in his ears; and, though he di : 
 flot become a missionary, yet his heart was warmly en- 
 gaged in the work, and he was ever ready to bestow his 
 mite in the good cause. 
 
 About four o'clock, Edith, having taken an affectionate 
 (eavc of her little namesake, started with Alfred for 
 home, Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin following them to the 
 gate, and with moistened eyes bade them farewell. They 
 never forgot that visit ; and the words of the young 
 missionary at parting, " Though you may not be called 
 to go into foreign lands to labor for the salvation of the 
 heathen, yet there will always be work for Christians at 
 home, while there are souls to be won to Christ," sank 
 deep into their hearts.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 '* Oh, married love ! each heart shall own, 
 
 Where two congenial souls unite, 
 Thy golden chains inlaid with down, 
 
 Thy lamp with heaven's own splendor bright." 
 
 Lanr/hotne. 
 
 " Thou art the nurse of virtue. In thine arms 
 She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, 
 Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again." 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 THE months of August and September passed rapidly 
 away. The letters of Mr. Henderson were more and 
 more urgent -for Gertrude to appoint the day of their 
 marriage, which had been from time to time postponed 
 on account of the uncertainty of Alfred's movements ; 
 and one evening, when the family were at tea, he sud- 
 denly joined them, saying that he did not intend to leave 
 without a bride. After tea. he requested an interview 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, where he plead his cause so 
 earnestly, that, as the arrangements of Alfred were un- 
 certain, so that the time of the marriage conld.not be 
 fixed, and as there really was no good reason why the 
 ardent lover should have his patience longer tested, the 
 parents gave their consent that the wedding should take 
 place the following week. 
 
 " I'll leave it with you," said Marion, " to prevail with 
 her. I rather fear her consent to such hasty movements 
 
 408
 
 THE HOUSEIJOi ANGF.i, IN DISGUISE. 409 
 
 will be more difficult to obtain ; " and so the discom 
 fited lover thought, when, at the end of half an hour of 
 eloquent arguing, which he insisted would have carried 
 any jury in the land, he had made no advance in hid 
 suit. Gertrude only laughed at him, and said it made 
 her catch her breath to think of the bustle that would be 
 necessary. 
 
 Mr. Henderson felt aggrieved, and, giving her a sad, 
 reproaching glance, he left the room, and retired at once 
 to his chamber. Marion met him on the stairs, but he 
 passed her in silence, and she went to her daughter to 
 obtain an explanation. 
 
 When the young girl went up, at a late hour, to her 
 own room, she heard a step in her lover's chamber, and 
 paused a moment to listen. He was walking back and 
 forth across the floor, and the poor girl acknowledged to 
 herself that she had decided too hastily. Her mother 
 had been conversing with her upon the subject, and, 
 though pained at the thought of parting with her, yet 
 advised her to consent to his wishes, and be married 
 before his return. 
 
 The next morning, when Mr. Henderson, grave and 
 sad, appeared below, Gertrude, who was anxiously await- 
 ing him, put a tiny note into his hand. He needed but 
 a single look at her downcast eyes and rosy cheeks but 
 one quick glance at the delicate penmanship, to drive 
 away all his gloom, and he was Charley again. 
 
 When Gertrude consented to his wishes, she did it 
 svith a good grace ; and her lover whispered again and 
 again in her ear, " In everything else, dear Gerty, you 
 shall have your own way." 
 35
 
 410 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 At her special request, the wedding was to be private ; 
 but she devoted two entire days of the short time left 
 her, to farewell calls upon her friends. 
 
 The day after Gertrude's departure, Dr. Jenks called 
 to invite the family to a wedding at his house. Maurice 
 had arrived a few days before, and was to sail in a fort- 
 night or three weeks for Liverpool. The old gentleman 
 was in high spirits, as well as in great haste, but begged 
 all the family to honor the young people by being 
 present. This they readily promised. The good clergy- 
 man, Mr. Badger, was certainly reaping a golden harvest. 
 He appeared at the doctor's, and looked around in smil- 
 ing complaisance upon the party assembled. Soon Mau- 
 rice entered with Amy ; and all were impressed with hei 
 loveliness as she gave her hand trustingly into the keep- 
 ing of her husband. The young sailor uttered the re- 
 sponses with a fervor which called forth many smiles, 
 and, as soon as the ceremony was through, imprinted a 
 kiss upon her lips. Then followed the congratulations, 
 the cake, and the partings, during which both the bride 
 and groom came in for their full share of praise. Mau- 
 rice promised to accompany his wife to Lindenwood 
 before he sailed. He had brought home the highest 
 recommendations from his captain, who was 'exceedingly 
 anxious to retain him in the ship he commanded. The 
 vessel was now going out to Liverpool for a short voy- 
 age ; and he confidently expected to be at home again 
 by March. 
 
 Uncle Stephen presented Gertrude, his niece, with the 
 same sum which he had given to Emma, saying, " I 
 didn't meaii you should lose anything by it, when you
 
 IN DISGUISE. 411 
 
 acted so nobly by Alice. The old gentleman was no\v 
 meditating whether it would be better for Alfred to take 
 advantage of a merchant vessel about to sail for Cal- 
 cutta, or to wait until spring, that he might have the ben- 
 efit of a course of medical lectures in Philadelphia. The 
 latter was at length decided upon, and Edith was left at 
 Lindenwood for the winter. She applied herself with 
 great diligence to her studies, and really surprised her 
 teacher by the aptness she displayed for the acquisition 
 of the language. From talking with one who had lived 
 so long in India, her pronunciation was remarkably per- 
 fect. 
 
 When Maurice called with Amy, he informed his 
 friends that his ship was not to sail for another week, 
 which he considered uncommonly good fortune. When 
 he arose to take leave, he approached Edith, and said, 
 with some emotion, " Though I suppose 1 may stand a 
 better chance of seeing you than some others, as I fre- 
 quently make voyages to Calcutta ; yet we may never 
 meet again. I wish you great prosperity, wherever you 
 may go." 
 
 The unbidden tears gushed to Edith's eyes at this un- 
 expected benediction, and, giving him her hand, she said, 
 " Life is always uncertain. I may never be permitted 
 to reach a foreign shore. You may never return to your 
 native land ; but let us strive to live in such a manner 
 that we shall not fail to reach our heavenly home." 
 
 How many times, in after years, were these words re- 
 called to mind ! 
 
 The young sailor bowed over Edith's hand to conceal
 
 412 ri!K HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 a tear, uttered a fervent " Thank you, Edith ; " thei. 
 
 turned to leave the room. 
 
 ****** 
 
 It was mid winter. The thermometer outside the 
 door stood four degrees below zero, and the appearance 
 of passers by hurrying at full speed, with buffalo robes 
 carefully tucked around them, while the panting horses 
 emitted at every breath a full puff of steam, bore evi- 
 dence to the biting, frosty atmosphere. But in doors at 
 Lindenwood, the air was warm and balmy as June. A 
 powerful furnace in fhe cellar sent its genial warmth 
 through every part of the house, and, in addition to this, 
 a large wood fire blazed cheerfully upon the hearth in the 
 parlor. But it is not the parlor to which we would intro- 
 duce you this morning. In the spacious room above it, 
 the heavy damask curtains are draped from the bay win- 
 dow, to exclude the least particle of air ; but in the win- 
 dow facing the south, a full flood of light from the sun 
 is pouring in. Drawn up before the cheerful fire is the 
 large easy chair, mentioned on a former occasion, and in 
 it is seated its former occupant, pale and languid, it is 
 true, but with eyes as bright, and mouth as sweetly 
 wreathed in smiles as of old. Uncle Stephen and Clar- 
 ence are standing near, looking first at her and then at a 
 tiny roll of flannel lying across the lap of her mother, 
 who is seated in a low rocking-chair, close to the fire. 
 Alice often gazes at the same small object with a shade 
 of anxiety crossing her brow, until an old lady, who seems 
 very much at home, and whom we speedily recognize as 
 Nurse Green, says, " La, Miss Alice ! don't go to worry- 
 ing about the baby. It's only the snuffles he's got, ar<J
 
 IN ntSGUISE. 41 U 
 
 they wont hurt him while lie can eat and sleep like a 
 young Trojan, as he does now." 
 
 " I hope it won't last long," said Alice, in reply, " it 
 seems to make him uneasy." 
 
 A low tap is heard at the door, and Edith enters, ask- 
 ing, " May I come ? " 
 
 She advances toward the young mother, and kisses her 
 pale cheek, at the same time expressing her joy to see her 
 once more in her old seat. 
 
 This morning is a great occasion with all the family, 
 for Alice has arisen from her bed for the first time, though 
 the little boy lying asleep in the lap of his young grand- 
 mother is nearly seven weeks old. She has been very 
 feeble for two or three months, and there was a time 
 when the kind, sympathizing physician turned abruptly 
 away from the inquiries of the agonized husband and the 
 anxious father, or only answered with a moistened eye, 
 " How can I be expected to tell what will be the result ? 
 I \\ish you wouldn't ask questions. No one but God 
 can answer." 
 
 For the last ten days the invalid had rallied, and the 
 doctor had resumed his usual warmth and frankness 
 of manner. Alice exhibited a sweetness of temper and 
 patience in suffering, which endeared her, if possible, 
 more than ever to her family. In two things only was 
 she very decided. One was, to nurse her babe herself 
 the other, that the new comer should bear the name of 
 Stephen Forsyth. " I am decided, dear Uncle, on that 
 point," she said, as the good old man with a noble spirit of 
 sell-sacrifice, begged her to call it by some more modern 
 iiame. " I shall love the little fellow just as well," he 
 35*
 
 414 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGKL 
 
 urged, " if you call him anything else, and shall always 
 remember that you thought of me first.' 1 
 
 Alice pressed the old man's hand to her pale lips, as 
 she added, " His name is Stephen. I only wish it could 
 be Uncle Stephen, and I shall love it better than all the 
 fine names to be found in the dictionary." 
 
 " Well, child," said the gratified uncle, smiling through 
 his tears, " you always did have your own way with 
 me." 
 
 But we will return to the pleasant group before the 
 fire, who are now joined by the doctor and Mr. Stanley. 
 After examining the pulse of his patient. Dr. Jenks said, 
 gaily, " As free from fever as I am. Now we'll soon 
 build you up. Squire Sydney, did you send to New 
 York for some of that bitter stuff 1 mentioned ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Clarence, " I succeeded in getting some 
 of the very best." 
 
 " Well, send for a bottle. Nurse, you have water and 
 sugar here, I see." 
 
 Clarence rang the bell, and a servant soon brought a 
 
 O ' O 
 
 bottle from which the doctor poured a few teaspoon fuls 
 into a goblet, put in bountifully of sugar and filled the 
 glass with water. He stirred and sipped, putting in a lit- 
 tlo more from the bottle, and a little more sugar, until he 
 had fixed it just to his liking. " There, Mrs. Alice ! " he 
 exclaimed, holding it to her lips, " drink every drop of it." 
 
 " It is very disagreeable to me," said Alice, laughing 
 as the doctor stood watching her. 
 
 " Can't help it; down with it, or I'm thinking Master 
 Stephen will have to go hungry." 
 
 " Is it good for him ? " inquired the young mother 
 eagerly.
 
 IN DISGUISE. 415 
 
 " Good for him ? yes. It'll make him grow as fat as a 
 porpoise. 'Twill make him sleep, too, and be good- 
 natured. 
 
 Alice put the glass resolutely to her lips, and drained 
 it. 
 
 " Bravo ! " laughed the good man ; " touched the right 
 chord," he added, in a loud whisper, to Clarence. " There, 
 Nurse, you saw how I mixed it. She must take that 
 whole bottle full in three days at farthest. Give her a 
 glass three or four times a day. Perhaps she'd like a 
 cracker with it. She'll be calling for it herself by to- 
 morrow." 
 
 He was about turning to leave the room, when Alice 
 called, " Doctor, you havn't looked at the baby." 
 
 "'Well, he's no great sight. What should I look at 
 him for." 
 
 " He don't breathe well." 
 
 The doctor bent over the small specimen of humanity 
 and put his ear down to listen. " He's well enough," he 
 replied, rising. " Just get Nurse to rub a little sweet oil 
 on liis nose," and bowed himself out of the room. 
 
 It was very certain that whoever else neglected the bab) 
 (though there was not much danger of that at present), 
 Uncle Stephen would not. Twenty times in an hour he 
 turned aside the blanket with which its small face was 
 nearly concealed, and listened, to be sure that it still 
 breathed. In reading his papers he turned them with 
 great care, lest the rustling should disturb its slumber, and 
 walked about as noiselessly as possible. 
 
 " I do believe Tneie Stephen thinks Iliat baby is his 
 own '" exclaimed Edith, one day after li;ivin watched
 
 416 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 him playing to the child, and witnessed his joy, when, ir 
 return to the terms of endearment lavished upon him, the 
 little fellow cooed a reply. 
 
 c; I should like to know," answered the old gentleman, 
 \vith some indignation, " whose child you think it is, if it 
 is not mine ? " 
 
 Both Edith and .Slice laughed heartily, at which the 
 baby cooed again. 
 
 " I had thought," said the former, " that it belonged to 
 AJice and Clarence ; but " 
 
 " Clarence has nothing whatever to do with the child," 
 continued he, in a loud tone. " What does he, a boy, 
 know about the care of children ? I'll venture he never 
 had it in his arms in his life." 
 
 And this was true. The young father's heart was 
 full to overflowing with gratitude for the sweet gift from 
 heaven. He never entered the room, or left it, without a 
 peep at its tiny features ; but he had been exceedingly 
 solicitous concerning the health of his beloved wife, and, 
 when he was at home, devoted himself almost wholly to 
 her comfort. Never having even seen so young a child, 
 the idea of trusting himself to take so precious a treas- 
 ure; into his arms, had never once entered his mind. 
 
 When Stephen Forsyth, Jr., was two months old, an 
 immense box arrived from New York to his address. 
 When the little fellow was informed of it, he told a very 
 long story, which his mother perfectly understood to 
 mean that he wished to know its contents without delay. 
 The desire was instantly complied with, and forthwith 
 there came from the huge box a tiny bathing-tub, a cn,- 
 cLe, or rather a crib upon rockers, with delicately wrought
 
 IN DISGUISE. 417 
 
 muslin curtains looped above it, then a basket of toys, of 
 the most approved style. The only article among them 
 which excited the notice of the young gentleman, was a 
 gutta percha ring, which, when placed in his hands, he 
 grasped tightly, and thrust it at once into his mouth. 
 " Certainly," as Uncle Stephen said, " It's my boy." 
 
 In February Alfred Huntington came on to accompany 
 Edith to Baltimore, where she had been earnestly invited 
 to visit Gertrude, and on her return she had promised to 
 pass a few weeks with Emma. 
 
 Alfred was reluctant to be away from his studies, and 
 tarried only one day. In the evening, when all the fam- 
 ily were gathered in the parlor, Uncle Stephen turned to 
 Alfred, and asked him, in Tamul, " Do you think Edith 
 can ever acquire the native language ? " In reply he 
 commenced, " It is said to be extremely difficult ; but she 
 is very persevering, and " 
 
 " Take care ! " she exclaimed in the same language, " 1 
 hear." Alfred and Clarence started in surprise. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " she continued, archly. " What 
 have I done that you should gaze at me so ? " 
 
 " Done ! " repeated Alfred, " I believe you are a witch. 
 Where did you learn Tamul so well ? " 
 
 She pointed to Uncle Stephen, who rubbed his hands 
 and laughed aloud. " She's outwitted you this time. 
 She can read and write as well as you can." 
 
 " Hardly that," she responded, " but I can read simple 
 sentences." 
 
 " But just now you spoke like a native." 
 
 " Ye^, I have been practising those sentences for BU 
 months."
 
 418 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL. 
 
 " And didn't tell me," said Alfred, with a reproachfu 
 look. 
 
 " Never mind," replied Edith, tenderly, " I promise you 
 you'll hear enough bye and bye. 1 shall be obliged to 
 tell you, or keep my secrets entirely to myself." 
 
 The whole family were amazed at the progress she had 
 made, though she persisted in attributing all her success 
 to Uncle Stephen, and he, scarcely able to contain his 
 joy, walked back and forth, saying, " Yes, I've found out 
 at last what I am good for. I must apply for a professor- 
 ship of foreign languages." In this case the old gentleman 
 did not refuse to receive the praise which was his due.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Oh, weep not ! thy loved one is sweetly sleeping 
 
 Beneath the blue ocean's crested wave, 
 Where low surging billows are ever singing 
 
 Their requiem round his pearly grave. 
 Loving thoughts of thce often swelled his fond heart 
 
 As homeward he plough'd the green sea foam, 
 Till called by his Saviour and God to depart, 
 
 To the land of the blest the penitent's home. 
 
 IT was a clear, bright morning in March. The weather 
 had been bleak and windy, but now the sun was shining 
 in full splendor, as if to make amends for the length of 
 time during which he had hidden his face. In the sunny 
 kitchen of Dr. Jenks, there was evidently some great oc- 
 casion at hand. The large table was set out in the mid- 
 dle of the floor the place it had hitherto occupied only 
 during the preparations for thanksgiving. 
 
 Before it stood Mrs. Jenks, attired in a wide checked 
 apron, her sleeves rolled up, and her tongue' keeping time 
 with the rolling-pin, with which she was dexterously 
 transforming the flaky paste into coverings for the long 
 row of pies before her. Her haste, however, did not pre- 
 vent the old lady from giving an occasional glance up the 
 street, which she could see for some distance. " Let me 
 think," she soliloquized, sticking the end of her knife into 
 the paste, and pausing a moment, " there's six mince and 
 four apple, that makes ten, to be covered. Yes, 
 
 419
 
 4*20 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 there's enough ; " and she hastened again with her work. 
 " Amy, dear, wont you just open the door of the oven a 
 minute ? I'm afraid it's getting too hot. What time did 
 your father think Maurice would be here ?" 
 
 " Not before noon," replied the young wife, after com- 
 plying with the request. " I'm on my last shirt, and they 
 look beautifully too," she exclaimed, holding one up for 
 her mother to admire. 
 
 " They would do any body credit, child ; but I'll ven- 
 ture 'twont be eleven o'clock before he'll be here. Now, 
 don't you go to being frightened, if he jumps out from 
 behind the door any minute," and she cast an anxious 
 glance at the young wife. " You know he's mighty fond 
 of surprises, and don't realize how dangerous they are at 
 rimes." 
 
 " Do you think he will be pleased ? " asked Amy, in a 
 subdued voice. 
 
 " Pleased, child, he'll be tickled almost out of his wits. 
 There, I've got that cover too small," and she glanced for 
 the hundredth time at the clock. 
 
 Amy seemed no less excited, though her manner of ex- 
 hibiting it was different. Her joy was too intense for 
 many words. She spread the six new shirts, she had 
 made for her husband during his absence, on the small 
 clothes-horse, placed it in the sitting-room, out of the 
 way, and then assisted to put the pies into the oven. 
 
 " Now, Amy," said the mother, " if you'll beat the 
 eggs, I'll stir up a Washington pie, and fill it with 
 that, strawberry jam, he's so fond of." Just at this mo- 
 ment a shadow fell upon the floor, which sent the blood 
 wildly through Amy's heart, and made her mother
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 scream: "Now that's too bad, Doctor; I do say!" as 
 she saw i\ was only lier husband peeping in at the door. 
 
 " Not come, hey ? " said the Doctor, trying to speak 
 cheerfully. " Well, I told you he couldn't get here till 
 twelve. The vessel only arrived in New York yester- 
 day ; and he couldn't be spared at once. He wont spend 
 much idle time on the road, you may depend." Thia 
 was the second time the father, impatient to welcome 
 his boy, had hurried home to see if the young seaman 
 had arrived. " And so I gave you a start, child," he 
 said, approaching and kissing Amy. " Now, you just 
 keep yourself cool, or I'll get wife to make you a dose 
 of valerian tea," and he hastened away to his patients 
 again. 
 
 An hour later and the fragrant pies stood arranged 
 upon the table ; the crust baked to a delicious brown ; 
 the Washington pie was cooling before it could be filled 
 with .sweetmeats ; the sponge for cakes was rising upon 
 the hearth, and Mrs. Jenks stood looking around her with 
 feelings of laudable pride that her efforts had been so 
 successful. " It will soon be time to put in the meat," 
 she said aloud, walking to the closet where Amy had 
 prepared a pan of vegetables. There were peeled tur- 
 nips, a nicely washed cabbage, beets and potatoes. " I 
 sha'n't calculate," she added, "to have dinner much be- 
 fore two ; but I'll put the beets into the pot, and then 
 change my cap." 
 
 In the meantime her son's wife had been employed in 
 sweeping and dusting ; her own room receiving especial 
 cure, and a pair of newly embroidered slippers being 
 Dlaced in a conspicuous position. She opened one 
 
 36.
 
 42'2 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 drawer after another to see if all were ready, and almost 
 hoped to find something more to do for the dear one 
 who was momentarily expected. But no, the delightful 
 task, which had occupied her so many weeks, was ended. 
 Not a button to sew on, not a string to fasten, and 
 so Amy unpinned her hair, and let the long golden 
 tresses fall over her shoulders. " How proud Maurice is 
 of my hair," and she gazed at it, fondly, as a thing he 
 had loved. After arranging it in his favorite style, she 
 proceeded to array herself in a brown merino dress, and 
 with a neat collar, fastened by a brooch, and a black silk 
 apron, her simple toilet was completed. 
 
 For a few moments she sat down and gave herself up 
 to the enjoyment of her own thoughts. She rapidly re- 
 viewed her acquaintance with Maurice. He had been 
 uniformly respectful and kind in his treatment of her, 
 but oh r from the time when he first told her his love, how 
 freely had he poured out his affection. He had been the 
 most devoted of lovers, the very kindest of husbands, and 
 the young wife pressed her hands to her bosom as she 
 raised her heart in prayer for help to be at all times a 
 loving, faithful wife. Poor Amy! 
 
 Suddenly, hearing a step in the room below, she start- 
 ed up, and ran quickly down the stairs. She entered the 
 sitting-room, and cast a hurried glance around ; but no 
 one was there. She heard the voice of her father in the 
 kitchen, and concluded the step must have been his. 
 
 "Well, Amy," he said, pleasantly, though he himself 
 was not a little disappointed at the non-arrival of his son, 
 "What do you say to riding down to farmer Pond's with 
 me ? I want somebody to talk with, and he'll be sure to
 
 iN DISGUISE. 423 
 
 be here when we come back. But as long as you and 
 mother sit watching, you know tha old adage, ' A 
 watched pot ' " 
 
 <; Oh, father," she replied earnestly, raising her aerene, 
 truthful eyes to his face, " I couldn't be away." 
 
 "Mother/' exclaimed the Doctor, turning from her with 
 a sigh, which he would have found it very difficult to ac- 
 count for ; " can't you give me something to eat? I .'ost 
 my appetite this morning." 
 
 Mrs. Jenks brought from the pantry a large mince 
 turn-over, and hastily pouring out some cold coffee, 
 placed it before him, " There, eat quick," said she, " I 
 want to clear up, and not have dirty dishes standing 
 round when company is expected." 
 
 " Company, hey ! " he exclaimed, laughing. " I won- 
 der if I should go away two or three months, whether I 
 should be company ? Well, I must be going along." 
 But still he lingered and looked at the clock, whose 
 tardy hands seemed reluctantly to approach the expected 
 hour. At length, it strikes. Now, he can't go until the 
 train comes in. The front door bell rings : " Oh, dear ! " 
 says Mrs. Jenks, " my hands are all flour." Amy's eyes 
 plead, " I had rather not go ; " and so the Doctor went, 
 and let in a woman who wanted a tooth pulled. Amy's 
 heart beat now faster than ever. " In a few moments he 
 will be here." 
 
 Again the bell rings. " I'll venture that's Maurice," 
 exclaimed the mother, " ringing the. bell to surprise us ;" 
 and she calls to the Doctor, who leaves his patient and 
 admits the clergyman. 
 
 ' I wonder what on earth he's come her* for, at this
 
 424 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 hour, ' she whispered to Arny, after listening long enough 
 to hear the voice of the good rector : and for the first 
 time in her life, the hospitable woman failed to give her 
 minister, a cordial reception. " I shouldn't wonder one 
 grain," she added, to her daughter, l ' if the saucy fellow 
 had gone round the back way, and was hiding up stairs 
 now ; 'twould be just like hiui ; " and the two started 
 off on their survey. Room after room was searched ; 
 Amy expecting every moment to have her husband 
 ppring from some corner, and clasp her in his strong 
 arms. 
 
 " Come out here, if you're hid, Maurice," exclaimed 
 the mother, with some indignation, as she had, so far, 
 been balked in her search. But even while she was 
 speaking, the voice of Dr. Jenks was heard at the stairs. 
 * Mother ! Amy ! come down." 
 
 The words were spoken hoarsely, wholly unlike his 
 usually kind and cheerful voice ; but he was instantly 
 obeyed. He stood at the foot of the stairs, with his 
 arms outstretched. Amy flew down. " Where is he, 
 father ? " 
 
 " Gone, Amy ; gone, child." 
 
 "What do you mean, Doctor?" almost shrieked Mrs. 
 Jenks, catching hold of her husband's arm, and shaking 
 it, as if to rouse him to his consciousness. 
 
 " Mother," he ialtered, staggering back, " your boy lies 
 at the bottom of the sea." With one wild shriek, the 
 poor young widow fell senseless to the floor. 
 
 Perhaps it was well for the stricken parents that their 
 attention was, for a time, diverted from their own grief 
 oy the alarming situation of their daughter, who soon
 
 IN DISGUISE. 425 
 
 grew dangerously ill. One fainting fit succeeded an- 
 other. The expression of utter woe upon her pallid 
 countenance causing those who watched over her to feel 
 that it was almost cruel to try to restore her to con- 
 sciousness. Before night another physician was in at- 
 tendance, and his skill was eminently necessary, for Dr. 
 Jenks could hardly be roused to speak. Early in the 
 evening he retired to bed; and when, shortly after, his 
 wife left the bedside of poor Amy to attend to his wants, 
 she found him in a fit. The shock had been too sudden 
 for the doating father, and for a time he sank under it. 
 
 Dr. Mason was still in the house, where he purposed 
 remaining through the night, and immediately ap- 
 plied the most powerful remedies, which after a few 
 hours were successful in restoring him to consciousness, 
 though not to his speech. His mouth was slightly drawn 
 down, and the whole of his left side paralyzed. In all 
 her experience, Mrs. Jenks had never passed such a night. 
 Her husband lying in a fit-from which he might never 
 recover ; her child, Amy, now doubly dear, perhaps 
 dying ; and all this, while a dreadful weight of sorrow 
 was resting upon her, and crushing her to the earth. 
 
 Mr. Badger, the kind rector, who had for so many 
 years labored side by side with Dr. Jenks, sat with 
 him during the entire night. Toward morning he called 
 Mrs. Jenks from the room, and placed in her hands a 
 letter from Captain Bruce directed to himself, containing 
 the particulars of the dreadful event, which had caused 
 such sudden changes in their once happy home. It was 
 as follows : 
 
 36'
 
 4 -u THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 " Rev. Mr. Badger : 
 
 "Respected Sir, It is my painful duty to inform 
 you that Maurice Jeaks, one of your congregation, who 
 has for some time past been mate on board the ' William 
 Bartlett' is no more. On the night of the 16th of 
 March, a violent gale arose, during which our vessel was 
 in great danger. In the midst of the dreadful scene^ 
 Maurice was perfectly calm and self-possessed ; and, 
 after one of the sailors had in vain attempted to climb 
 the mast to let down a sail, he sprang quickly up to the. 
 top, performed the task, and was about descending when 
 a violent lurch of the vessel, for which he was unpre- 
 pared, caused him to lose his hold, and he was precipi- 
 tated into the sea. The fearful cry, ' A man overboard! ' 
 rang out on the night air. The vessel was immediately 
 put about, and ropes thrown in every direction. Indeed, 
 when it was discovered who was the missing man, it 
 was with extreme difficulty that I could restrain the 
 sympathizing sailors from throwing themselves into the 
 water to rescue him. But the sea was rolling moun- 
 tain waves, and the absolute impossibility of a man 
 living for a moment in it, made me sternly order them 
 back to their duty, though my heart was bleeding at the 
 loss I had sustained, at the death of him who was one 
 of the best mates in the world, and whom I had learned 
 to value as a personal friend. 
 
 " I have taken the liberty to address my letter to you, 
 sir, from the kind interest our lamented friend has often 
 assured me you have taken in his welfare, and from the 
 belief that no one could more cautiously or tenderly 
 announce the sad tidings to the afflicted parents and the
 
 I.N DISGUISE. {_>/ 
 
 bereaved widow. 1 will thank you, sir, if you \\ ; 
 such time as you may deem proper, present to them my 
 most earnest sympathies in their unspeakable loss. This 
 I shall do in person at the first moment I can leave my 
 vessel. % Unless I can do so in a very few days, I shall 
 send the effects belonging to my lamented friend, by 
 boat, to Queenstown. 
 
 " With sentiments of high respect, I am, sir, your truly 
 sympathizing friend, 
 
 ANSUGL G. BRUCE." 
 
 At the dreadful announcement, Amy fell into a swoon 
 which so nearly resembled death that the kind neighbors 
 and friends who watched over her scarcely allowed 
 themselves to hope that she would survive until morning. 
 How gladly would they have seen tears streaming down 
 her cheeks ! But no ; except that she breathed, there 
 was no sign of life, and medicines which, under other 
 circumstances, Dr. Mason would have used, might prove 
 fatal. 
 
 On the third day after the sad intelligence reached 
 Queenstown, Captain Bruce arrived. He was deeply 
 moved as he heard from Mr. Badger an account of the 
 family. The rector accompanied him to the dwelling, 
 which was so truly a house of mourning, and nad the 
 pleasure to witness the soothing influence of the cap- 
 Tain's presence after the first gush of fee/ing had sub- 
 sided. Mrs. Jenks could not, however, be contented 
 unk'Sii her poor husband could also hear the melancholy 
 detail from the lips of their kind and sympathizing 
 friend. Dr. Mason was consulted, and at length con-
 
 428 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 sented to it. The good woman knew her husband io 
 be a Christian, and that, as such he would bow sub 
 missively to the stroke with which their heavenly Fat lief 
 had visited them. 
 
 She was also well aware that evidence the captain 
 was able to give with regard to the good conduct of 
 Maurice would be the best restorative. And so it' really 
 proved. As the warm-hearted seaman sat by his side, 
 and related many touching incidents which had occurred 
 during their last voyage, together ~vith the increasing 
 fondness the young man had exhibited for reading the 
 Scriptures, tears of gratitude rolled down the furrowed 
 cheek of the stricken father, while he feebly articulated 
 the words, " Lord Jesus, receive the thanks of a poor, 
 broken-hearted father for thy mercy to his child." 
 
 " I am not a professor of religion," continued Captain 
 Bruce, brushing away a falling tear ; " but I have often 
 wished I could feel as your son did. When the weather 
 was calm, I have seen him gather a little company of 
 sailors around him, and sit down in a retired part of the 
 vessel, where for hours he read to them from the Bible 
 or religious tracts, the honest tars listening with open 
 mouths, as if for their lives. I had the curiosity to 
 question one of them to see if they really learned any 
 thing, or if it were merely their affection for the young 
 mate which induced such fixed attention. His answer J 
 shall never forget. 
 
 " ' Jack,' said I, ' when Master Jenks is reading, can 
 you get at the meaning? ' 
 
 " ' Indeed I do,' was the reply ; 'and a blessed meaning 
 there is when it tells a poor fellow who all his life long
 
 IN DISGUISE. 429 
 
 has carried a terrible load, just how he may lay it down, 
 and get clean rid of it.' 
 
 " ' Well, how is that ? ' I asked. 
 
 " ' That's just what he was telling us last Sunday. 
 The Saviour died to take our sins. That is the load I 
 told of. When Christ suffered so much, and at last was 
 nailed to the cross by the bloody Jews, all to get leave 
 to take away our burdens, it appears to me disgracefully 
 small business, not to let him have the pleasure of Joing 
 it. I, for one, wont cheat him nor myself any longer ; 
 ind so my mind's made up.' 
 
 " Then that was the sermon I heard him preach,' 
 said I, at the close. 
 
 " ' Yes, cap'n,' he repJed, that's the substance. In 
 coorse I can't be expected to gin it off as he did.' '' 
 
 Many more incidents were related, exhibiting the 
 influence the young mate exerted on board the vessel. 
 These proved a precious balm to the wounded hearts of 
 his parents. For themselves they felt comforted ; but 
 poor Arny ! For a few hours she had revived to a 
 knowledge that a calamity had befallen her. That she 
 connected it in some way with her husband, was evi- 
 dent from the fact that, whenever addressed, she slowly 
 unclosed her eyes, and feebly whispered his-name. Some- 
 times it was, " Dear Maurice, how long a time you have 
 been gone ! " and then, with an expression of fear, " Oh, 
 Maurice, don't leave me again ! " 
 
 Dr. Mason, after consulting Mrs. Jenks. proposed to 
 Captain Bruce to visit his patient in the hope of arous- 
 ing hei ; and this the kind-hearted man was earnest to 
 do. Indeed, he had hoped to see one so intimately
 
 430 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 connected with his deceased friend, and who had exerted 
 so salutary an influence upon him, for Maurice had often 
 attributed the change in his religious feelings as, under 
 God, owing to her consistent example and earnest piety. 
 The anxious physician conducted him to her room, where 
 *he lay pale and motionless. She so nearly resembled 
 death, that, with a sudden start, he bent over her to 
 listen if she breathed. Becoming aware that some one 
 was near her, poor Amy quickly opened her eyes, and, 
 was near her, poor Amy quickly opened her eyes, and, 
 with an appealing expression, \yhich brought many tears 
 from the sympathizing man, whispered, " Maurice ! 
 Has my Maurice corne ? " Putting his handkerchief to 
 his eyes, Captain Bruce hurried from the room ; and he 
 afterwards remarked that he had rather meet the stifFest 
 gale off Cape Horn than such a look of intense woe as 
 accompanied her whispered question. 
 
 From this time, however, she slowly gained strength. 
 until she was able to sit up most of the day ; but her 
 mind was wandering, and her language often wild and 
 incoheient. Sometimes the sight of any article of cloth- 
 ing which had belonged to her husband produced violent 
 agitation, and she would tremble excessively ; but no 
 tears relieved her until a little Maurice came to fill the 
 place in her heart rendered desolate by the loss she had 
 sustained. In the warm and earnest love which welled 
 up within her breast at the sight of the little stranger, 
 she learned to thank God that he had allowed her even 
 the memory of her dear Maurice, and also for the sweet 
 babe as a precious token of his love. She devoted her- 
 self to the training of her child ; and when, in after 
 years, the estates which had been so unrighteously taken
 
 IN DISGUISE. 431 
 
 from his mother were restored to him, and he accompa 
 nied her to Scotland, and took a high station in society, 
 he aimed so to live that he might honor his beloved 
 father, and spend an eternity with him in heaven. 
 
 The good doctor partially recovered the use of hia 
 paralyzed limbs, and rode about as of old among hia 
 patients. He sat for hours talking to those who had 
 known and loved his son, repeating over and over again 
 the anecdotes related by Captain Bruce, and showing a 
 small pocket Bible that Maurice had always carried 
 about him, with such passages underscored as he thought 
 would be adapted to interest and profit the crew. But 
 if, at any time, his patients applied to him for medicine, 
 he invariably sent them to Dr. Mason, having lost all 
 confidence in his own skill. 
 
 The kindness he had shown to the poor and destitute 
 proved eminently, in his case, like bread cast upon the 
 water, which he found after many days. Scarcely a day 
 passed without some token, slight it might be, but no 
 less grateful to him, of the affectionate remembrance in 
 which he was held by his former patients and the whole 
 community, and also of their warm sympathies wilh his 
 family in their bereavement. Mrs. Jenks even com- 
 plained that she should lose her skill in cooking, so little 
 occasion did she find to practise her favorite art. 
 
 Among the numerous houses where the old gentleman 
 was at all times a welcome visitor, there were no two 
 places in which he so delighted as Linden wood and the 
 vine-covered residence of his aged pastor, whose kind- 
 ness during his season of deepest trial neither he nor his 
 family ever forgot.
 
 432 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGKL. 
 
 At Lindenwood, the old gentleman always found his 
 vay up to the nursery, being the same room where his 
 little favorite Louis had breathed out his soul to God, 
 and which was now newly furnished for the use of 
 Master Stephen. The young mother feared that her 
 uncle, being unused to children, might become wearied 
 with his noise, and be under the necessity of abandon- 
 ing the pleasant room he occupied with them. But she 
 was wholly mistaken. Day after day he sat in the nur- 
 sery amusing himself with his little namesake, who soon 
 learned to call after him, if he left the room ; and almoai 
 daily Dr. Jenks might be seen there with him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 % 
 
 " There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father. 
 tt mother, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's ; but he shall receive an 
 iundrod fold now in this time, and, in the world to come, life everlasting." 
 
 Our Saviour. 
 
 THE visit of Edith to Mrs. Henderson was protracted 
 far beyond her expectation. After consulting some gen- 
 tlemen who had been for many years connected with the 
 cause of missions, and finding them agreed in the opin- 
 ion that every missionary ought to know something of 
 medicine more than the hearing of a few lectures, Mr. 
 Huntington determined to prolong his stay in Philadel- 
 phia until spring, and then go to Boston and pursue the 
 study there for a few months, with a reference to visiting 
 the hospitals ; so that it was not until the latter part of 
 May that Edith returned with him to the north, and 
 made her long-promised visit to Emma. She was re- 
 ceived with the greatest cordiality, not only by her sister 
 and Professor Fowler, but by his mother, who was visit- 
 ing them. The old lady said she wanted to take right 
 home to her heart all who loved her darter Emma, whom 
 she could never sufficiently praise. " Her son," she said, 
 " was entirely altered for the better, and now much re- 
 sembled the Perkinses," and that " she felt as much at 
 ease with him as she did with his lovely wife." 
 
 The first week in July Mr. and Mrs. Stanley arrived, 
 and after a pleasant visit, with their daughter, Mrs. Fow 
 
 37 433
 
 -134 TITE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 ler, Edith relumed with them to Lindenwood. In all 
 her visiting Ker heart had- been in her studies, and her 
 desire to prepare herself for usefulness among the people, 
 with whom she had chosen to dwell, had daily and hourly 
 increased. She astonished even Uncle Stephen, who had 
 an exalted idea of her capabilities, by the 'progress shu 
 had made. She told him she had never realized how 
 good and patient a teacher he had been, until obliged to 
 depend upon herself. 
 
 September was the month now fixed upon for sailing, 
 and every day brought new duties and cares, in the way 
 of preparation for the important voyage. One morning, 
 toward the latter part of August, a ooramittee of ladies 
 from the village called at the Hall, with a box about 
 three feet square, which had been presented to the young 
 missionary by her friends, as a token of their interest in 
 the cause to which she had devoted her life. A letter 
 accompanied it, requesting that she would not open the 
 box until her arrival at her own station. 
 
 The ladies also expressed an earnest wish that Edith 
 and Mr. Huntington should attend the Missionary Soci- 
 ety in the village before their departure, which they would 
 appoint at any time to suit the convenience of the mis- 
 sionaries. 
 
 Edith promised compliance, and accepted their invita- 
 tion -the following week, where she met more than a hun- 
 dred ladies and gentlemen who hud assembled to bid 
 them farewell. The kind ladies led Edith into a back 
 room, where, neatly folded, and ready for use, was a 
 generous supply of shirts, flannels, and hose, for Mr 
 Huntington, rr ade and presented him by the ladies of
 
 IN DISGUISE. 430 
 
 the society. Edith was much affei.ted by their kindness, 
 but said she must call her friend to speak for himself, 
 which he did with great feeling, until there was- not a 
 dry eye among them. 
 
 J* was the wish of Uncle Stephen that Alfred should 
 be set apart for his work in the church under the care of 
 their esteemed pastor, Mr. Badger, and gn at was the 
 pleasure manifested when the fact became known. It 
 was truly a memorable occasion for Queenstown, and 
 such as had never occurred there before. In the rnidst 
 of all her cares, Edith did not forget her humble friends 
 at the farm, and, with the permission of Mrs. Stanley, 
 invited Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin to come to the exercises, 
 and to bring with them her little namesake. 
 
 The eventful morning at length arrived. Alfred and 
 Edith met by appointment at an early hour, to ask to- 
 gether the blessing of their heavenly Father, upon a day 
 fraught with so much interest to them. They were to 
 be married in church at nine o'clock. After this the pub- 
 lic services of the occasion were to commence. When 
 the family, together with a large number of friends, met at 
 the breakfast-table, none were so calm and cheerful as the 
 ones, who, for Christ's sake, were in two days to leave 
 friends, country, and home. Uncle Stephen, whose pale 
 countenance showed that he had passed a sleepless night, 
 wept aloud, and when the young clergyman, whom he 
 had educated in the very hope that this blessed event 
 might come to pass, led him to the parlor, and tried to 
 sooihe his agitated feelings, the good old man sobbed 
 our. " Oh, what am I, that C-Jod should have thus an- 
 swered my prayers, and made me the unworthy instru-
 
 430 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 ment of sending a missionary to the poor heathen ! 1\ 
 humbles me to the dust to think how little faith 1 have 
 had that he would order this event, so that I should live 
 to see this day." 
 
 It was not until that long-to-be-remembered interview 
 that Alfred became aware how earnestly his kind bene- 
 factor had wrestled in prayer for him, that his heart 
 might be turned to this great work ; nor with what 
 solicitude he had watched his course, and how at one 
 time, when the young student wished to study law, he 
 had again sought the throne of grace, and with tears 
 had plead that, if it was the will of God to deprive him 
 of the glorious privilege of fitting him for the work of a 
 missionary, another might be raised up ; nor how se- 
 verely his faith had been tried by the ardent affection 
 Alfred had exhibited for Edith, who at that time was 
 very un suited to be the wife of a missionary. Now," 
 added Uncle Stephen, with a fresh burst of tears, " during 
 the long night I lay and thought of all the way the Lord 
 had led you and your chosen companion, to fit you for 
 your great work. I, in my feebleness, thought money 
 could do it ; but he saw more grace was needed. He 
 sent you trials, and I trust they have been sanctified. 
 But I can never sufficiently thank him for the favor 
 shown to me, a poor, sinful creature." 
 
 At eight o'clock, the church was crowded to over- 
 flowing, so eager were all for admittance ; and, had it 
 not been that special seats had been reserved for Mr 
 Stanley's family, they would hardly have been able to 
 gain admittance. Notwithstanding the aisles and even 
 the large porch were crowded, the ticking of the clock
 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 in (he orchestra could be distinctly heard, as Mr. Badger 
 addressed the bridal pair, and the solemn responses were 
 uttered which united them for life. When they knelt 
 before their pastor to receive his blessing, weeping and 
 Bobbing were heard on every side. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Huntington returned to their seats, and, 
 after a short pause, a young clergyman arose and read 
 the prater. The bishop, who had for years been a warm 
 friend to the cause of missions, and a zealous promoter 
 of the missionary spirit in his diocese, preached the 
 sermon, and set apart the young missionary to his work. 
 The services were in the highest degree solemn and 
 impressive ; and when, at the close of them, the friends 
 of Edith crowded around to bid them farewell, there 
 were not a few who considered their condition as one to 
 be envied, rather than deplored, as they had heretofore 
 thought. 
 
 In the afternoon, Emma, who, with her husband, was 
 at home, came to the nursery, where Edith had retired 
 for a few moments to sit with Alice, and informed her 
 that Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin were awaiting her. She 
 started at once to go to them, but at length concluded 
 to send for them to join her, as they would not feel easy 
 in so large a company as were gathered in the parlor. 
 Little Edith could now walk about, and was really an 
 engaging child. Stephen Sydney, after some coaxing, 
 left Uncle Stephen to get upon the floor, and show the 
 little girl his toys. 
 
 " That's a fine fellow," said the old gentleman, nod- 
 ding his head with pride at his namesake's generosity; 
 "that's my noble boy," as the child took cue thi'ig after 
 37'
 
 438 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL 
 
 another from his basket, and placed them in the lap ol 
 the little girl, all the while prattling to himself, while she 
 gazed first at him, and then at the wonderful sight 
 before her, but could not venture to speak a word. 
 
 Edith found her good friends had come over early in 
 the morning, and attended the services in the church, but 
 had hesitated to intrude themselves at a time when they 
 knew there were many who had more claim upon her 
 attention. She sent to the parlor for her husband, when 
 both Joshua and his wife were much affected at parting 
 from them. When Edith took the little girl in her arms 
 to kiss her and bid her adieu, she threw over her neck a 
 chain of gold, attached to which was a locket containing 
 a small miniature of herself, painted by her mother, with 
 her own hair and that of her husband inserted in the 
 back. 
 
 How many times, in the course of the next year, the 
 event was related to admiring friends, by both Mrs. 
 Goodwin and her husband, and the locket exhibited, it 
 would be difficult to say. 
 
 The next morning, Mr. and M/s. Huntington, accom- 
 panied by Uncle Stephen, Rev. Mr. Badger, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Stanley, Gertrude, Emma, and Alice, with their 
 husbands, started for New York, from which port they 
 were to sail the following day. The baggage having oeen 
 safely seen on board ship, the whole party accompanied 
 Edith to the vessel, to take a view of her accommoda- 
 tions. And here the knowledge of Uncle Stephen was 
 invaluable ; for, though Edith declared the arrangements 
 to be complete, yet he perceived quite a number of arti- 
 cles which he pronounced absolutely necessary, and
 
 r\ DISGUISK. 
 
 ordered them to be bought forthwith. They ther. re- 
 turned to the hotel, to pass together one more evening 
 before they should be separated forever in this world. 
 
 Correspondence was planned, advice given, and many 
 sentiments of undying affection exchanged, when the 
 evening was closed with prayer by their aged pastor. 
 
 "When they were about to retire, all were impressed 
 with the holy calmness which had settled upon the brow 
 of the young missionary. Her whole soul seemed to be 
 elevated by the greatness of the work which she had 
 undertaken. Could this be the Edith whom we first 
 introduced to the reader? Yes, the very same, but with 
 a heart purified by affliction, sanctified by divine grace, 
 and elevated by close communion with her heavenly 
 Father. 
 
 The vessel was advertised to sail at ten o'clock. At 
 nine the family from Lindenwood (including little Ste- 
 phen and his "ayah," as the old man persisted in calling 
 her) went on board. The few articles which they brought 
 with tl.era from the hotel are soon in the allotted places. 
 The books which Edith and her husband wish to use on 
 the voyage are taken from a trunk below, and placed in 
 a locker in their cabin. Jars of pickled limes and other 
 articles are ranged in rows, and confined to keep them 
 in place. Then they return to the deck, where Uncle 
 Stephen has a short, earnest consultation with the cap- 
 tain, and Alice sees him put something which very much 
 resembles a bank-bill inio the good captain's hand, who 
 decidedly refuses to keep it until something more is said 
 by Uncle Stephen. All is now ready. The sailors stand 
 at their post. Suddenly they doff their caps, and stand
 
 440 THE HOUSEHOLD ANGK1,. 
 
 reverently, while the white-haired minister commits his 
 beloved charge to the care of Him who holds the waters 
 in his hand. The prayer is ended. The sailors are only 
 waiting the command of their captain to begin their 
 hearty song of " Ho, heave ho ! " The parting kiss is 
 given, the last whispered word of love or counsel ; and. 
 amidst smiles of hope on the part of the dear ones who 
 will soon be far away, and tears of sorrow from those 
 who are to lose them, the final separation takes place. 
 The party of friends descend to the wharf, where they 
 try to suppress their grief, that they may not lose one 
 look of the two who stand clasping each other by the 
 hand, and leaning over the side of the railing. 
 
 And now the honest ters begin their work. The 
 gallant ship is loosed from the wharf; and, amidst a 
 hundred cheers from the shore and the vessels lying at 
 the wharf, which are heartily reechoed, the noble bark 
 glides on her w r ay. 
 
 With bursting hearts, the weeping friends incline for- 
 ward for one more look. Yes, that is Edith. She wave* 
 her handkerchief, and points heavenward ! 
 
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 standard pieces for the use of sckyol celebrations, evening parties, children's 
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 BURDETT'S BOOK OF COMiC PARO- 
 DIES. Being close mutations, in 
 form anil style uf metre and lau- 
 gua:e, of many ol the most popular 
 pieces by Misleading p^ets of Ameri- 
 ca and England. Among the pieces 
 parodied in this book are Betsy 
 and I have busted up," ' Schlosser's 
 Kide," '-Der Mule shtood on der 
 steamboat deck," " Dascher on der 
 Rhine," " Der good-iookin' fihnow," 
 and numerous others, all of a high- 
 ly amusing character. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S JUVENILE SPEAKER 
 AND READER. -Prepared expressly 
 and carefully for the use of young 
 children. Containing- a lartre num- 
 ber of pieces, some cunning and 
 simple enough to please infants, 
 while all are sure to delight and im- 
 prove children of every age. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S IRISH DIALECT RE- 
 CITER. Containing a collection of 
 the most popular Irish stones, po- 
 etical and prose recitations, humor- 
 ous letters, Irish witticisms, and 
 funny recitals in the Irish dialect. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S PARLOR RECITER. - 
 A collection of new and standard 
 pieces written in prose and poetry, 
 and suitable for recitation i:\ pri 
 vate parties and the drawing-room 
 at home. 
 
 BRO. ANDERSON'S BURLESQUE ORA- 
 TIONS. Ethiopian sermons and 
 humorous lectures. There are 
 enough of darky dialogues, ni.irger 
 lectures, and funny-men's fancies in 
 this book to start a dozen compa- 
 nies of minstrel shows. Many of the 
 pieces are original^and ail first- 
 class. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S COLUMBIAN RECITER. 
 A collection of patriotic and sonl- 
 stirrmg recitations, many of which 
 are by American authors, and all 
 desirable for general celebration, 
 platform and stump-speeches. This 
 selection contains original composi- 
 tions that have appeared hereto- 
 fore ia no other works. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S TRAGIC RECITER. - 
 Containing the very best pieces 
 ever written, expressive of Love, 
 Hate, Fear, Revenge, Jealousy, and 
 the other most melting, stirring, and 
 startling passions of the human 
 heart. 
 
 THE ELLEN TERRY LADIES' RECITER. 
 Containing choice pieces, elegant 
 verses, sublime speeches, apt selec- 
 tions, splendid lines, and grand reci- 
 tations. A proper book to put in the 
 hands of school-girls, sweethearts, 
 wives, and daughters. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S COMIC RECITER.- 
 F.'lled with the liveliest, jolliest, 
 la, lighter-provoking stories, lectures, 
 and other humorous pieces. Fitted 
 to keep an audience in a roar, and 
 to drive away dull care. Suitable 
 for recitation in public halls and 
 private parties. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S COLLEGE RECITER- 
 Containing admirable selections 
 from English and American writers, 
 arranged for the use of high schools 
 and colleges. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S TRAGIC AND COMIC 
 DIALOGUES. Including many of the 
 most alVectMig. amusing, and spir- 
 ited dialogues ever written. Afford- 
 ing opportunities for the display of 
 every quality of action, voice, and 
 delivery. Suitable for schools, 
 academies, anniversaries, and par- 
 lor presentation. 
 
 HAWTHORNE'S BOOK OF READY-MADE 
 ' SPEECHES. On all subjects that 
 can occur, whether on serious, sen- 
 timental, or humorous occasions, 
 including speeches and replies at 
 dinners, receptions, festivals, politi- 
 cal meetings, military reviews, fire- 
 men'sgatberings. and, indeed, when- 
 ever and wherever any party, large 
 or small, is gathered, to dine, to 
 mourn, to congratulate, or to re- 
 joice. Appended to which are forms 
 of different kinds of resolutions, 
 etc., with a great number of senti- 
 ments and toasts. 
 
 Price 23 Cents Per Copy. 
 
 THESE BOOKS CAN BE OBTAINED FROM YOUR BOOKSELLER. 
 
 1 UBL1SHED BY 
 
 HURST & COMPANY, 134 and 136 Grand Street, New York,
 
 - * lljm