OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF 
 
 'WfrM^ 
 
 University of California Berkeley 
 
Now ready, a New and Cheaper Edition, 
 
 EARNESTNESS: 
 
 A TALE. 
 By CHAKLES B. TAYLER, M.A., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "KECORD3 OP A GOOD MAN'S LIFE," " MARGARET, OR THB PEARL," &C. 
 
 Fcap. 8uo., cloth, gilt, 3s. Qd. 
 " Mr. Tayler, an old and zealous labourer in the cause of truth, has added to the obligations 
 
 already imposed upon the public, by the issue of this beautiful little work The story is an 
 
 exceedingly interesting one ; and, apart from the infinitely higher claims of the volume, would 
 rivet attention by the amiable characters which it exhibits, and the touching simplicity with 
 which these characters are made to act and speak." Standard. 
 
 Also, by the same Author* a New and Cheaper Edition of 
 
 THANKFULNESS : 
 
 A NARRATIVE, 
 
 COMPRISING PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF THE REV. ALLEN TEMPLE. 
 
 Fcap. 8vo., cloth, gilt, 2s. 6d. 
 
 " ' In everything give thanks.' This vital duty of sincere Christianity is beautifully enforced 
 
 by Mr. Tayler in the delightful volume before us The great charm of the work is its 
 
 unforced piety." John Bull. 
 
 " Though a story of real life, it is written in the spirit of ' The Pilgrim's Progress.' " 
 Britannia. 
 
 " We heartily recommend this interesting narrative to our readers. The truths it enforces 
 are as important as the manner in which they are inculcated is pleasant." Christian Lady's 
 Magazine 
 
 " The Diary refers to the past century ; and the visits to the old Catholic mansion, with its 
 hiding-places, may be justly cited as an example of pictorial power." Athenceum. 
 
 " This little volume now before us is one that calls forth our warmest approbation. From 
 its pages the young may learn in what spirit to receive the good gifts of their Creator, how to 
 value them, and how to improve them : the more advanced Christian will be enabled to refresh 
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 by the numerous able and eloquent persuasions to gratitude which he will meet with interspersed 
 throughout this work." Morning Chronicle. 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, SON, & CO., 47, Ludgate Hill. 
 
, n 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 OF 
 
MABEL VAUGHAK 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF THE " LAMPLIGHTER." 
 
 EDITED, BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE AUTHOR, 
 
 BY MRS. GASKELL, 
 
 AUTHOR OP " MARY BARTON." 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, SON, AND CO., 47 LUDGATE HILL, 
 1857. 
 
 Eight of Translation Reserved. 
 
LONDON : PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IF it were not an Irish way of expressing myself, I should 
 call prefaces, in general, the author's supplement to his 
 work ; either explaining his reasons for writing it, or 
 giving some additional matter which could not be in 
 cluded, or else was forgotten in the book itself. 
 
 Now as I am not the author of the following story, I 
 cannot give her reasons for writing it, nor add to what 
 she has already said ; nor can I even give my opinion of 
 it, as by so doing, I should have to reveal much of the 
 plot in order to justify praise, or explain criticism. 
 
 Such alterations as might be required to render certain 
 expressions clear to English readers, the authoress has 
 permitted me to make in the body of the work ; some 
 foot-notes I have appended explanatory of what were 
 
 >0 17 72 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 formerly to me mysterious customs and phrases ; and, 
 here and there, I have been tempted to make additions, 
 always with the kindly-granted permission of the au 
 thoress. 
 
 In conclusion, I may say a few words on the pleasant 
 intercourse that we English are having with our American 
 relations, in the interchange of novels, which seems to be 
 going on pretty constantly between the two countries. 
 Our cousinly connexion with the Americans dates from 
 ccmmon ancestors, of whom we are both proud. To a 
 certain period, every great name which England boasts, is 
 a direct subject of pride to the American ; since the time 
 when the race diverged into two different channels, we 
 catch a reflex lustre from each other's great men. When 
 we are 1 stirred to our inmost depths by some passage or 
 other in "Uncle Tom," we say from our full hearts, "And 
 I also am of the same race as this woman." When we 
 hear of noble deeds, or generous actions ; when Lady 
 Franklin is helped in her woeful, faithful search by sym 
 pathising Americans ; when the " Resolute" is brought 
 home to our shores by the gallant American sailors ; -we 
 hail the brave old Anglo-Saxon blood, and understand 
 how they came to do it, as we instinctively comprehend a 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 brother's motives for his actions, though he should speak 
 never a word. 
 
 It is Anglo-Saxon descent which makes us both so un 
 demonstrative ; or perhaps I should rather say, so ready 
 to express our little dissatisfactions with each other, while 
 the deeper feelings (such as our love and confidence in each 
 other,) are unspoken. Though we do not talk much about 
 these feelings, we value every tie between us that can 
 strengthen them ; and not least among these come the 
 links of a common literature. I may be thought too like the 
 Tanner in the old fable, who recommended leather as the 
 best means of defence for a besieged city, but I am inclined 
 to rank the exchange of novels between England and 
 America as of more value, as conducive to a pleasant 
 acquaintanceship with each other, than the exchange of 
 works of a far higher intrinsic value. Through the means 
 of works of fiction, we obtain glimpses into American home- 
 life ; of their modes of thought, their traditional observances, 
 and their social temptations, quite beyond and apart from 
 the observations of travellers, who, after all, only see the 
 family in the street, or on the festival- days, not in the 
 quiet domestic circle, into which the stranger is rarely 
 admitted. 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 These American novels unconsciously reveal all the 
 little household secrets ; we see the meals as they are put 
 upon the table, we learn the dresses which those who sit 
 down to them wear (and what a temptress ' Fashion ' 
 seems to be in certain cities to all manner of vulgar 
 extravagance !) ; we hear their kindly family discourse, 
 we enter into their home struggles, and we rejoice when 
 they gain the victory. Now all this knowledge of what 
 the Americans really are is good for us, as tending to 
 strengthen our power of understanding them, and conse 
 quently to increase our sympathy with them. Let us 
 trust that they learn something of the same truth from 
 reading the fictions written on this side the Atlantic ; the 
 truth that, however different may be national manifes 
 tations of the fact, still, below accents, manners, dress, 
 and language, we have 
 
 ' All of us one human heart.' 
 
 E. C. G. 
 
MABEL VATJGHAK 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Fear is the virtue of slaves ; but the heart that loveth is willing ; 
 Perfect was, before God, and perfect is Love, and Love only. 
 
 LONGFELLOW'S Tegner. 
 
 ON a pleasant midsummer's afternoon, a middle-aged lady, 
 with a mild and thoughtful face, sat alone in her quiet parlour, 
 busily engaged in sewing. It was a country home in which 
 she dwelt, and her low window opened directly into a green 
 and sloping orchard, now fragrant with new-mown hay, the 
 sweet breath of which was borne in on every passing breeze. 
 She was a woman of many cares and but little leisure ; and 
 for more than an hour had not lifted her eyes from her work, 
 when suddenly attracted by the merry voices of children, she 
 arrested herself in the act of setting a stitch, and, with her 
 needle still poised between finger and thumb, leaned her elbow 
 on the window-sill, and for several minutes gazed earnestly and 
 attentively upon a little group collected beneath an opposite 
 tree. They were too far off for their words to be distinguish 
 able, but happiness shone in their faces, mirth rang in their 
 careless shout, and joy danced in all their motions. Whether 
 chasing the light butterfly, pelting each other with tufts of 
 hay, or, in the very exuberance of their spirits, scampering 
 without purpose or rest in the sunshine, they were in every 
 view pictures of infant glee, cheering and happy sights to a 
 mother's heart. Though now and then smiling on their sport, 
 however, the gentle-faced lady at the window was watching 
 
 B 
 
2 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 them with a more thoughtful and observant gaze than the 
 occasion seemed to warrant, for she saw amid their play what 
 a less careful eye might have failed to discern, and from it she 
 drew a moral. 
 
 Three among this little group were her own children ; but 
 while they shared her notice, and from time to time excited 
 her sympathy in their innocent enjoyment, it was not by them 
 that her thoughts were at this time peculiarly engrossed. 
 
 There was among them a fourth, who, although not hers by 
 the tie of nature, might almost be said to have become so by 
 adoption, since she had now been three years under her roof, 
 with the prospect of continuing there for an indefinite period ; 
 and it was on this little girl, who stood to her in the relation 
 of a pupil, that the teacher's thoughtful attention was fixed. 
 
 She was between eleven and twelve years of age, arid the 
 eldest of the little band ; a bright, rosy-cheeked, animated 
 child, of a lively, adventurous spirit, the invariable leader in 
 every youthful pastime. But on the present occasion she 
 seemed only partially to share in the sport, for after every 
 outburst of glee in which she indulged, far outdoing her com 
 panions in extravagant merriment, and inciting them to new 
 hilarity, she would hastily resume her seat at the foot of an old 
 apple-tree, snatch a well-worn book from the grass where she 
 had thrown it, and appear for a time wholly engrossed in 
 study. Her fits of diligence, however, were but short-lived. 
 At the first temptation held out by her companions, she would 
 a^ain fling aside the volume, spring to her feet, and bound with 
 them to the farthest corner of the orchard ; from which excur 
 sion she would return, heated, weary, and out of breath. Now 
 a mischievous urchin had stolen her bonnet, and dared her to 
 its recovery ; and now a pet-rabbit had just rushed past, and 
 she must follow with the others in full pursuit. It was in vain 
 that after each fresh interruption she applied herself anew to 
 her lesson, and placing her fingers to her ears, strove to shut 
 out the bewildering voices of her playmates. The effort, after 
 all, was but a mock endeavour, for her heart was anywhere but 
 in her book ; and, at length, an unseen hand having snatched 
 the much-abused grammar from her lap and thrown it over the 
 boundary-wall, the unwilling student felt a sense of relief at 
 its disappearance, and was the first to raise the shout of approval 
 that succeeded. 
 
 Just at this moment a bell sounded, and with a glance of 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. O 
 
 surprise and alarm in the direction of the house, the girl has 
 tened to recover the book and proceed to her recitation, for 
 which this was the signal. 
 
 She came into the presence of her instructress with a flushed 
 face, arid, in place of her recent smiles, a half-mortified, half- 
 vexed expression. 
 
 The teacher took the book from her pupil's hand without 
 comment, and commenced hearing the lesson, which, as may 
 well be supposed, proved a failure in the very onset. 
 
 The child stood in silence for a few moments, and then said, 
 while tears of impatience rushed into her eyes, ' I can't learri 
 this lesson, Mrs. Herbert, it is too hard.' 
 
 ' You have not tried, Mabel,' said Mrs. Herbert, mildly. 
 
 ' Yes I have,' answered Mabel ; ' I have tried just as hard 
 as I could, and I can't learn it. I wish I need n't study Latin.' 
 
 4 Were you studying, my dear, when you lay for ten minutes 
 hid in the hay, while the children tried in vain to find you, or 
 when you stood on the highest bough of a cherry-tree and 
 strained your eyes with looking into a robin's nest?' * 
 
 Mabel gave a quick glance out of the window from whence 
 she had thus been observed, then looked up into the friendly 
 face of Mrs. Herbert, arid seeing there a smile, which invited 
 confidence and disarmed her of timidity, exclaimed, with 
 natural and childlike frankness, ' How could I study any 
 better, when they were all having such a good time.' 
 
 ( Ah ! that is the true secret of the matter,' said Mrs. Her 
 bert, drawing Mabel towards her and wiping the moisture 
 from the child's heated brow. ' I have been watching you 
 for this half hour, and knew very well how it would be with 
 the lesson. Do you remember what I told you about it this 
 morning ?' 
 
 * You said it was hard, the hardest thing in the book/ 
 
 ' Not exactly, my dear ; I told you, to be sure, that it was 
 more difficult than any task you had yet attempted ; but, at the 
 same time, I assured you that with a little patience you could 
 quickly learn it, and that this verb once mastered, all the rest 
 would seem comparatively easy. I did not promise, however, 
 
 * ' A good time.' Anglice, enjoying themselves very much. I was 
 puzzled at first when my kind American friends would inquire, when I 
 returned from any excursion, ' if I had had a good time ?' Remembering 
 how strange this now familiar expression appeared to me once, I am 
 induced to give this note. 
 
4 MABEL VAUGIIAN. 
 
 that you would find the orchard a good place to study in, or 
 that the noise of the children would help you to fix your 
 thoughts on your book. You should have gone to your own 
 room, shut the door, and made up your mind to apply yourself 
 diligently for an hour at least. Will you do so now ?' 
 
 Mabel hesitated, gave a longing look at her recent play 
 ground, and then cast down her eyes, which were fast filling 
 with tears. 
 
 After waiting in vain for a reply, Mrs. Herbert passed her 
 arm round the waist of her pupil, fixed her mild eyes upon 
 her face with a look which compelled attention, and gently but 
 forcibly made use of such arguments as were most likely to 
 excite her ambition and prompt her to the necessary effort. 
 The girl was possessed of excellent capacity , but had riot yet 
 formed habits of application, and needed powerful motives to 
 stimulate her to exertion. These Mrs. Herbert was able to 
 supply, and soon had the satisfaction of witnessing the effect 
 produced by her words, for Mabel gradually withdrew from 
 her side, straightened her figure with a determined air, and 
 exclaimed, with energy, ' I suppose I can learn it, and I 
 will. 1 
 
 'And remember,' said Mrs. Herbert, as she bestowed a 
 glance of affectionate interest and approval upon her hastily 
 retreating pupil ' remember for your encouragement what I 
 told you yesterday, that the more perfectly you learn this one 
 lesson, the easier will every future task become.' 
 
 It was the verb amare to love of the first regular con 
 jugation, and a formidable task did it appear in Mabel's eyes. 
 
 She was, however, possessed of an excellent memory, and 
 every requisite for successful study, and bringing, as she now 
 did, her whole heart to the labour, she was able in less than 
 the allotted time to overcome all its difficulties. 
 
 Before the hour had expired, she presented herself once 
 niore, grammar in hand, and her face bright with smiles, to 
 beg that Mrs. Herbert would hear her recite, assuring her 
 that she knew every word perfectly, and had twice repeated 
 the synopsis to herself without looking on the book. It was 
 true, and the young student went triumphantly through the 
 lesson. 
 
 ' And see/ exclaimed she, as, after receiving the praise her 
 efforts had merited, she took the grammar from her teacher's 
 hand, * it is just as you said ! I have been looking at the verb 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAN. 5 
 
 that comes next, and it is so much like this that it will not be 
 hard at all,' and Mabel eagerly pointed out the tokens of 
 similarity. 
 
 Mrs. Herbert, smiling- at the little girl's earnestness, sug 
 gested still further marks of resemblance, congratulated 
 Mabel upon the advantage she had gained, and then, laying 
 her hand upon the child's shoulder, said, impressively, ' And 
 so it is with life, my dear Mabel. The great lesson of love 
 once learned, learned patiently, truly, and with the whole 
 heart, not carelessly scanned, or foolishly toyed with, but 
 diligently received into the soul, and planted there for ever 
 this lesson will relieve all life's trials and illumine all its 
 mysteries. But, believe me, my child, it is seldom learned 
 amid life's sunshine and its joy. Its teachings come to us in 
 the silent chambers of thought, when noise is shut out, and 
 the voice of mirth for a time is stilled, and eager pleasure 
 gives place to patient duty. While chasing the butterflies of 
 folly, or wasting the summer hours in play, we cannot take 
 life's great lesson to heart; but, planted perhaps in sorrow, 
 and nourished perhaps in tears, it will one day blossom in joy 
 and peace. House yourself to this last lesson, Mabel, bring 
 to it your soul's best powers, pursue it with the energy which 
 has been victorious to-day, and I shall have no fear for your 
 future.' 
 
 Mabel did not quite understand at the time the full force 
 of these spontaneous words, which, prompted by earnest feel 
 ing, took rather the form of soliloquy, than an address suited 
 to the child's years. But they were not lost upon her. Like 
 seeds of future promise, they were planted in her young heart ; 
 memory kept them warm, and at last, matured by time, they 
 brought forth fruits unto righteousness. 
 
 And once again. "When Mabel had reached her eighteenth 
 year, and the summons had at length been received, which 
 was to call the pupil from the teacher who, during more than 
 half of the young girl's existence, had been to her less an 
 instructress than a parent, words of a similar import were 
 the last warning and the last charge which fell from the 
 revered lips of age and experience upon the listening ear of 
 youth. 
 
 ' Learn above all things, my clear girl,' said Mrs. Herbert, 
 as they sat together the evening before Mabel's departure, 
 * to beware of self-love, and cultivate to the utmost degree a 
 
6 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 universal charity. It is the best advice I can give you for 
 your safety, and the surest for your happiness/ 
 
 ' Do you think me so selfish then ?' exclaimed Mabel, half 
 grieved at the implication conveyed in her teacher's words. 
 * Oh, there are so many whom I love better than myself!' 
 
 1 1 accuse you of no unamiable quality, my dear Mabel, 
 and your generosity has always been proverbial among us ; 
 but, when I charge you to cultivate love for others, even to 
 the forgetfulness of self, you must not misunderstand my 
 meaning. It is because it is so easy and natural to you, my 
 dear child, to love all and everybody, that I wish to warn 
 you of a time, when instead of being your happiness, and so 
 demanding of you no sacrifice, it may become your trial and 
 your misery ; and it is then that I bid you love on as woman 
 can and must. O, Mabel, there is nothing so insidious as 
 self-love, nothing so noble and so womanly as that divine love 
 which finds its happiness in duty !' 
 
 Mrs. Herbert's voice trembled with emotion as she spoke, 
 and had anything been wanting to impress her words upon 
 Mabel's heart, that want would have been supplied when she 
 looked in the face of her revered friend, and felt that the 
 lesson she was now so earnestly imparting, was one taught her 
 by experience and proved by faithful practice. 
 
 Amid the pain of parting with old friends, and the joys and 
 hopes attendant upon her entrance into a new home, this 
 lesson, and that equally impressive one of her early childhood 
 which it had served to call up, were both for a time effaced 
 from Mabel's recollection. But they were not lost. There 
 are lessons which penetrate our hearts like Heaven-sent whis 
 perings, lessons, simply spoken, scarce heeded when uttered, 
 but proving by their deep arid lasting influence that they have 
 their source in the eternal fountain of truth. 
 
 And so it was with these simple teachings of a faithful, 
 true-hearted woman. It was not the power with which they 
 were spoken, it was not eloquence nor a passion-stirring voice, 
 nor was it the effect of time or circumstance, that stamped 
 them so indelibly on Mabel's heart ; but nevertheless they 
 struck upon a chord within, which thrilled at the word, and 
 vibrating through many years, reminded her again and again 
 of the heavenly lesson which her soul needed for its purifica 
 tion. 
 
 It was long before the page fully unfolded itself on which 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 7 
 
 that lesson of love was written, and only by years of patient 
 striving were its difficulties overcome ; but often amid the 
 struggle did memory whisper in Mabel's ear the encouraging 
 assurance, that this task once learned, the rest of life's path 
 would be made easy. 
 
 And is it not so ? Is not woman's mission truly a mission 
 of love? And can she fail to fulfil all its duties nobly, arid 
 find all its trials lightened and relieved when she has once 
 taken to heart that, lesson, once fortified herself with that 
 spirit so beautifully exemplified in Him whose life on earth 
 was a glorious manifestation of love made perfect ? 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A lovely being scarcely formed or moulded, 
 A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 MABEL VAUGHAN was the daughter of a New York merchant, 
 a man of remarkable business capacity, undoubted integrity, 
 and reputed wealth ; one who, although of highly-respectable 
 parentage, good education, and fair advantages for a start in 
 life, had nevertheless been in a great degree the framer of 
 his own fortunes, having passed through all the phases 
 incident to the accumulation of a large property. 
 
 While thus sacrificing his youth, however, and with it all 
 his best and noblest powers, to the pursuit of wealth, he found 
 no opportunity for the forming of domestic ties, and it was 
 not until he was fast verging upon middle life that he even 
 meditated matrimony. He had by this time gained that point 
 in the social scale, when he was marked as a rising man of 
 wide commercial influence ; and this distinction, together with 
 his gentlemanly bearing, found him favour in the eyes of a 
 beautiful and fashionable woman, whose fair face had capti 
 vated his fancy, and whose family connection was such as to 
 gratify his ambition. 
 
 There was between them no similarity of taste or habit, 
 however, and the union which succeeded their short acquaint 
 ance, was productive of but little happiness to either party. 
 Mr. Vaughan had hoped to find at his own fireside that quiet 
 and relaxation from care, of which he had experienced the 
 want ; and failing in this, he sought amid the speculation r and 
 excitement of business to forget the disappointment he had 
 experienced in his home, while his wife, after pursuing for a 
 time those gaieties which her husband refused to share, became 
 the victim, first, of complaining self-indulgence, and finally of 
 positive ill health. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Fatal as this utter want of sympathy proved to the welfare 
 of the ill-assorted pair, its consequences were still more in 
 jurious to their children, especially to the eldest, a daughter, 
 who from infancy to womanhood was exposed to all its unfor 
 tunate influences. At the birth of this little girl, Mr. 
 Vaughan's interests and affections were again turned from 
 his counting-house, to centre in the home where he once more 
 began to meditate upon those fireside and domestic joys which 
 had always figured in his dreams of married life. But his 
 wife did not share these fond aspirations ; and the child prov 
 ing an insufficient object to win her from a course of dissipated 
 gaiety, was soon abandoned to the care of strangers, save as 
 the father strove at intervals, by fond and injudicious in 
 dulgence, to atone for a mother's neglect. During six succeed 
 ing years, this daughter continued the sole occupant of the 
 nursery, and the sole victim of her parent's mismanagement. 
 At the end of that time a boy, and, a few years after, another 
 girl were added to the household. Louise, however, the 
 eldest, was by this time promoted to the companionship of 
 her mother, who now, become a restless and nervous invalid, 
 sought to divert her mind with the pretty and graceful child, 
 whose education and accomplishments she resolved herself to 
 superintend. And the result of such superintendence was 
 this. Louise, at sixteen was a fine dancer, a tolerably skilful 
 musician, and a complete mistress of all the arts of coquetry. 
 Nature had given her a pretty face and symmetry of form, 
 and early practice had taught her to turn both to good 
 account. Despite her youth, too, she had, by sedulous cultiva 
 tion, acquired many so-called fascinations of manner, which 
 acted powerfully upon those who shut their eyes to her 
 extreme affectation ; and her utter want of mental and moral 
 discipline was atoned for, in the eyes of her mother's circle of 
 friends, by a natural quickness of intellect, and a proverbial 
 amiability of disposition. 
 
 These latter qualities, however, so far as she in reality 
 possessed them, were given her at birth. They could not be 
 numbered among her acquirements, for unfortunately her 
 heart, mind, and soul had been quite overlooked in her 
 education. 
 
 Such being the consequence of the mother's supervision, it 
 could scarcely be a matter of regret that Harry and Mabel 
 were, for the most part, shut out from her presence and her 
 
10 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 care. Harry was so noisy, and his little sister had adopted so 
 many of his rude ways, that both were unfit for her sacred 
 precincts, even if she had considered them of a suitable age 
 to profit by her instruction ; and as it was, she condemned them 
 wholly to the care of a newly-hired nurse. 
 
 Fortunately this nurse, though ignorant, \vas faithful ; 
 though severe, impartial ; and though unimaginative, true. 
 She could rarely give satisfactory replies to the questions sug 
 gested by their innocent curiosity, but at the same time she 
 taught them no evil. Her management was often such as to 
 thwart their favourite schemes, but she never punished them 
 unjustly, or complained of them without reason ; and if her 
 dull and uncultivated intellect failed to furnish diversion for 
 theirs, she at least practised upon them no deception, and 
 entertained them with no gossip. 
 
 Thus, while their young natures failed to ripen as rapidly as 
 they might have done under other tutelage, arid their faculties 
 found little scope for development or growth, they were spared 
 many of the evil influences which had early corrupted the 
 mind of the less-fortunate Louise ; and if their young souls 
 were checked in their infant expansion, they at least were not 
 poisoned in the bud. 
 
 Before Harry had reached his ninth year his impatient spirit 
 burst the bounds of nursery restraint, and obtaining from his 
 indulgent father permission to attend school, he was sent from 
 home to form boyish connections and friendships, leaving his 
 little sister deprived of her cherished playmate, her only com 
 panion in thraldom. 
 
 Then followed a dreary season, long remembered by poor 
 Mabel, when, during many tedious months, she kept on with 
 her lonesome plays, having no variety in her monotonous life, 
 save a daily walk with her nurse, a short visit from her often 
 abstracted father, or a summons to the parlour, from which she 
 was sure to be banished on occasion of the slightest childish 
 offence. 
 
 And then came the release ! Alas, that a mother's death 
 should have imparted new life to her child! But so it was, 
 though none but angel eyes perhaps traced out the workings of 
 that infinite love which recalled the unfaithful, earthly parent, 
 that a heavenly Father's hand might furnish a better guardian 
 ship for his child. The well-dressed groups who assembled to 
 pay the last honours to her who had once been the ornament 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 11 
 
 of their circle, and who bestowed upon her awe-struck and 
 sable-clad daughter the epithets ' Poor Mabel !' 4 Poor little 
 motherless one!' this short-sighted group would have started, 
 perhaps, at the lesson and shrunk from the warning, had the 
 voice of truth whispered in their ears that the holiest trust 
 committed to the parent is sometimes recalled, in mercy to the 
 child. 
 
 Mabel was eight years old when her mother died, and being 
 the only one of the children who was under the paternal roof 
 at the time, she became the more immediate object of her 
 widowed father's thoughts. Louise had recently been sent to 
 a fashionable boarding-school ; Harry still continued at his 
 academy ; but Mabel must be provided for. Both the calls 
 of business and his own choice combined to render Mr. 
 Vaughan desirous of leaving the country and closing his house 
 for an indefinite period; but in this case some arrangement 
 must be made which would furnish a suitable home for his 
 little girl. 
 
 As she sat on his knee one evening, about a week after his 
 wife's death, and his thoughts, sobered by that solemn event, 
 and concentrated more ardently than was their wont upon his 
 children's future welfare, were especially bent upon the pro 
 motion of Mabel's happiness and improvement, there darted 
 into his mind one of those Heaven-directed ideas, whose happy 
 and far-reaching results seem to prove the divinity of their 
 source. 
 
 He had, within the past month, received a letter informing 
 hirn of the death of an old friend, one who had been a play 
 mate of his boyhood, and for whom he had ever continued to 
 feel a warm and consistent regard. This regard had recently 
 been attested by the loan of a sum of money, trifling in the 
 eyes of the wealthy merchant, but of infinite importance to his 
 friend, who with an increasing family, and pursuing a poorly- 
 paid literary career, had become sadly embarrassed for the 
 want of this small amount. 
 
 He died, however, before an opportunity had ever arrived 
 for defraying the debt ; and Mr. Vaughan's recent letter from 
 his widow was written less with the view of informing him of 
 her loss, than to acquaint him with her inability to meet his 
 just demands, and to request his indulgence for the present. 
 This was readily accorded, and with a sigh of regret for his 
 friend, Mr. Vaughan dismissed the subject from, his mind. 
 
12 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Now, however as lie gazed in the face of his little daughter, 
 reflected upon the disappointment he could not but feel in 
 Louise, and resolved that a wholly different course should be 
 pursued with Mabel's education, he conceived a sudden desire 
 to place her under the sole charge of Mrs. Herbert, the widow 
 of his friend, confide to her the trust of which he felt con 
 scious he was scarcely more worthy than his wife had been, 
 and delegate to her the entire authority which had thus far 
 been neglected and abused. 
 
 Mrs. Herbert was poor ; she had three children to support 
 by her own exertions, and was eager and anxious to employ 
 herself profitably. The proposal, therefore, which Mr.Vaughan 
 made without delay, accompanying it with the most generous 
 pecuniary offers, was as promptly accepted ; and thus it hap 
 pened that Mabel became, as we have seen, one of Mrs. Her 
 bert's household. 
 
 We may not pause to trace the benefits which resulted from 
 this event to the widow and her family. The child's coming, 
 indeed, was the signal and forerunner of many blessings : it 
 roused Mrs. Herbert to hope and to exertion ; it laid the 
 foundation for what became in time a well-established and 
 prosperous school ; and long after, when she had acquired in 
 dependence for herself, and beheld with joy the prosperity of 
 her children, she failed not to look back to Mabel's entrance 
 into her household as the date of all her after success. Often 
 are mercies thus combined, and far-reaching are the schemes 
 of Providence ; but it is with their influence upon Mabel alone 
 that we now have anything to do. 
 
 She remained ten years under Mrs. Herbert's care, often 
 passing her vacations in that home which was to her the 
 happiest she had ever known, and never, during this long 
 period, revisiting her native city, save on the occasion of her 
 sister's marriage with a wealthy banker, which took place 
 when Mabel was still a mere child. Mr. Vaughan's house 
 was at that time leased to strangers, and the wedding ceremo 
 nies were held under the hospitable roof of a Mrs. Vannecker, 
 a distant relative of the late Mrs. Vaughan, who had been 
 proud to usher Louise into society, and now boasted that she 
 had made the match. 
 
 Here the family were assembled .to participate in the prepa 
 rations and festivities attendant upon the event, all of which 
 were entered into with eager zest by Mabel, and remembered 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 13 
 
 by her afterwards rather as a brilliant dream than an actual 
 reality. 
 
 With this exception she never left her school, save for a 
 yearly visit to her grandmother^ whose residence was within a 
 day's journey from Mrs. Herbert's ; and these visits were of 
 longer or shorter continuance, according to the old lady's state 
 of health, or the convenience of Mabel's aunt, Miss Sabiah 
 Vauglian, who continued to live with her mother, and had 
 charge of the housekeeping. From these absences, however, 
 which from one cause or another were usually of limited dura 
 tion, she invariably returned with joy to her kind teacher and 
 beloved playmates, by whom she was sure to have been sadly 
 missed, and was always warmly welcomed back, for Mabel 
 was the life of the household. 
 
 And here, amid healthful influences, and under the judicious 
 training of one of the best of women, she rapidly developed 
 those powers and capacities which had in her early childhood 
 found little scope for their expansion. 
 
 Mrs. Herbert was a religious woman, and she spared no 
 pains to impart to Mabel the knowledge and love of virtue. 
 She had sound judgment and a highly-cultivated intellect, and 
 patiently sought to guide and strengthen the mind of her pupil, 
 and store it with lasting treasures. She was possessed, too, of 
 those social qualities which give a charm to home, and render 
 a fireside comfortable and happy ; and the youthful group 
 around her were encouraged by her example to the cultivation 
 of every endearing and feminine grace. 
 
 Nor was she less a practical than an accomplished woman. 
 She understood every branch of housekeeping, every art in 
 needlework, and had acquired, through years of rigid practice, 
 economy, prudence and skill, in all of which branches her 
 pupils reaped, in a greater or less degree, the benefit of her 
 experience. 
 
 Thus, during ten years passed in a plain but well-ordered 
 New England homestead, where the highest mental discipline 
 was combined with instruction in the simplest female duties, 
 Mabel acquired strength of principle, soundness of knowledge, 
 cheerfulness of disposition, and useful and industrious habits. 
 Meantime, her physical development had kept pace with her 
 mental and moral growth ; pure air, healthful exercise, and 
 wholesome diet, strengthening and hardening her frame, while 
 with every succeeding year she grew in beauty and grace, 
 until Mrs. Herbert gazed at length with inward pride and de- 
 
14 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 light upon the fair blossom that her own hand had reared, and 
 which had ripened beneatli her very eye. 
 
 When Mabel, at eight years of age, was first ploced under 
 Mrs. Herbert's charge, she was a shy, unformed child, rude in 
 her manners and speech, and wholly unused to any kind of 
 application. At eighteen she was not only beautiful in per 
 son, cultivated in mind, and amiable and affectionate in dispo 
 sition, but to her rich personal and mental gifts she added a 
 winning frankness and cordiality of manner, which, springing 
 as they did from a warm and sincere heart, combined with her 
 other attractions to render her the favourite as well as the pride 
 of her companions. 
 
 But Mrs. Herbert was not infallible, nor Mabel faultless. 
 True, the former had laboured diligently for the improvement 
 of one who, next to her own children, was the principal object 
 of her endeavours and prayers, and had met undoubtedly with 
 a proportionate degree of success. But there were faults in 
 Mabel's character which time and diligence had not yet 
 uprooted ; faults of whose full extent Mrs. Herbert was 
 scarcely aware, and which were fostered by circumstances be 
 yond her control. Mabel's very popularity among her school 
 mates exposed her to danger ; and amid the varying characters 
 with which she came in familiar contact, she could not wholly 
 escape pernicious influences, especially during the latter years 
 of her school life, when the number of Mrs. Herbert's pupils 
 had greatly increased. 
 
 These faults, however, were not vital. They were such only 
 as are common to most girls of her age ; and we need not pause 
 to dwell upon them, for in due season they will present them 
 selves to notice as we follow her in her after career. 
 
 Conscious as Mrs. Herbert was of a faithful discharge of 
 duty, and well rewarded as her efforts had for the most part 
 been, she had too much good sense, too much knowledge of the 
 waywardness of the human heart, to believe for a moment that 
 Mabel was henceforth secure from temptation, or proof against 
 its assaults. And, therefore, as she read the few hasty lines 
 from Mr. Vaughan, which summoned his daughter to the super 
 intendence of his house, and the enjoyment of city gaieties, she 
 trembled at the thought that thenceforward Mabel must mark 
 out her own path, unsustained by the guiding hand and almost 
 maternal love which had thus far fostered and protected her. 
 
 It needed, indeed, no prophetic eye to foresee the peculiar 
 exposures and dangers which awaited Mabel's future. Already 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 15 
 
 had Mrs. Herbert observed the pride with which the fond 
 father, in his occasional visits, gazed upon his daughter's daily- 
 increasing charms, and already had she more than once been 
 compelled to remonstrate against the lavish and profuse indul 
 gence with which he proposed to gratify her girlish whims. 
 She knew, too, the gay and thoughtless circles in which 
 Mrs. Vaughan had moved, in which Louise now shone triumph 
 ant, and in which Mabel would be sure to be admired, flat 
 tered, and caressed 
 
 And because she knew all this, and because she rightly 
 conjectured that in this new sphere no pains would be spared 
 to gratify Mabel's vanity, encourage her ambition, foster her 
 pride, and administer to her self-love, did she tremble for her 
 purity of heart and disinterestedness of purpose. 
 
 She feared that in time of trial, when pleasure stood on one 
 side and duty opposed to it on the other, Mabel's unaided 
 strength would fail in the bitter contest. She feared lest 
 selfishness, worldliness, and pride, would triumph at last over 
 the barriers of Christian truth and virtue, which she had 
 sought to rear in the young girl's heart. And so, since 
 henceforward she could protect her only with her prayers, she 
 gave her for a watchword and a shield that simple precept, 
 so gentle in its workings, yet so mighty in its power, that 
 potent spell which disarms every spirit of evil, and is woman's 
 surest weapon, both of warfare and defence, for she sent her 
 forth to the conflict with the armour of Christian love. 
 
 And Mrs. Herbert and Mabel never met again. Not that 
 either was speedily called from a career of earthly usefulness ; 
 but their paths henceforth lay apart. Often would Mabel 
 gladly have turned to this well-tried confidante and friend for 
 counsel, sympathy, and advice. But it might not be. Other 
 interests soon became bound up in her own interests in which 
 Mrs. Herbert might not share ; and only partially, and at 
 long intervals, could she, even by letter, impart to this friend 
 of her childhood and youth the secret cares and anxieties 
 which burdened her woman's heart. 
 
 But there was a spiritual bond between them still, a bond 
 which strengthened with time, and was tempered in adversity, 
 for in her last warning charge, her last earnest lesson, Mrs. 
 Herbert had imparted to Mabel the great truth that woman 
 needs to learn. It slumbered awhile, then awoke in power ; 
 at first as a still, small voice, and anon as a flaming sword, it 
 led her on to victory. 
 
CHAPTER II . 
 
 Buoyant, cheerful, happy, bright, 
 I see thee, with a quiet grace, 
 * Make sunlight in a shady place.' 
 
 W. STORY. 
 
 MABEL'S emotions on bidding farewell to the home of her 
 girlhood were of a mingled character, pain alternating with 
 pleasure, according as memory dwelt upon past joys, or antici 
 pation pictured forth a brilliant future. Had she foreseen the 
 length of time that would elapse ere she would again set foot 
 in a spot endeared to her by a thousand associations, and had 
 imagination hinted to her the changes which that time would 
 effect, both in herself and in those she left behind, the fond 
 whisperings of hope would have been silenced, and sorrow 
 and regret would alone have filled her heart. -But she had a 
 happy, buoyant nature ; and in planning schemes for many a 
 summer excursion which should restore her to the old home 
 stead,' and many a winter vacation which should bring Mrs. 
 Herbert and her children to share the hospitalities of her 
 father's roof, she forgot the possibility of the separation's 
 being otherwise than temporary. 
 
 The moment of parting was indeed a trying- one to her 
 affectionate nature, and long after the intervening hills had 
 shut even the village spire from her sight, her thoughts 
 lingered with the beloved teacher and companions, whom she 
 still seemed to see grouped together on the doorstep, where 
 they had assembled to bid her a sad and tender farewell. 
 But, although her travelling companions gave one day only 
 to a trip which is usually performed in two, it afforded her 
 ample time to rally from her grief; and long before the 
 journey drew to its termination her busy fancy had taken 
 another direction, arid gone forth to rehearse the joys 
 attendant upon her welcome home. 
 
 She pictured to herself the reception she should probably 
 meet from her father, whom she had not seen for months. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 17 
 
 Mabel had but little knowledge of him who stood to her in 
 this tender relation, save from his occasional visits and peri 
 odical letters ; and the former had often been suspended for 
 years, owing to his absence from the country. He was, there 
 fore, pictured to her mind as the tall, gray-haired gentleman, 
 whom, some dozen times during her school life, she had been 
 hastily summoned to Mrs. Herbert's parlour to see ; each of 
 which occasions was associated in her recollections with a 
 holiday, a rich gift, and a drive to the railroad station, some 
 six miles distant, to which she always accompanied him on 
 his departure. 
 
 That he was the most indulgent of men she had not a 
 doubt, since she could remember no instance in which he 
 had ever denied her requests, or refused to gratify her whims. 
 Of his liberality, her gold watch, her jewelled rings, her 
 well-stocked wardrobe, and ample allowance, had long since 
 furnished evidence ; nor, though he seldom gave expression 
 to his feelings, could she be unconscious of the love and pride 
 with which he watched the development of her intellect 
 and her beauty, and triumphed in every added accomplish 
 ment and grace. Her intercourse with him, however, had 
 been wanting in that familiarity which leads to confidence ; 
 and, being wholly unacquainted with his habits of life .and 
 mode of thought, her spirits always received a slight check, 
 and her freedom a slight restraint, in his presence. His 
 letters had been even less indicative of character than his 
 visits ; for, although kind, they were brief and somewhat 
 formal, and, on the whole, he inspired in Mabel more of the 
 respect and gratitude due to a thoughtful guardian, than the 
 trusting love which is wont to subsist between a father and 
 child. 
 
 She felt conscious, however, that this restraint was un 
 natural, and as the time had now come when she was to make 
 her father's house her permanent abode, busy fancy suggested 
 that the warmth with which he would welcome her to his 
 heart arid home would at once break down every barrier of 
 reserve. 
 
 Of her sister Louise, now Mrs. Leroy, she had still less 
 knowledge. She had seen her but twice since her marriage, 
 and on each occasion for a few hours only. Once she had re 
 ceived a hasty note, informing her that a party, including the 
 Leroys, were travelling in the vicinity of her school and would 
 
18 MABEL VAUGIIAN-. 
 
 dine the following day at a neighbouring town, where they 
 begged that she would come and meet them. It was about a 
 year after Louise's marriage ; and Mabel, then a child, obtained 
 Mrs. Herbert's consent to the plan, and returned in ecstacies 
 with the whole party, especially her beautiful sister. Nor 
 was this impression weakened when, a few years later, Louise 
 accompanied her father on one of his periodical visits, and 
 came, richly clad, to pass a day at Mrs. Herbert's ; a day 
 which served to heighten the young school -girl's enthusiasm 
 with regard to the surpassing charms of her sister an enthu 
 siasm which was kept alive, inasmuch as it was, to a great 
 degree, shared by all her young companions. She looked for 
 ward, therefore, to daily companionship with one so lovely, 
 accomplished, and fascinating,. as scarcely less an honour than 
 a happiness. 
 
 Nor in her visions of a joyous welcome did Mabel fail to 
 isive a prominent place to her little nephews, two beautiful 
 boys, whom she had never yet. seen ; and, naturally warm of 
 heart, extravagantly fond of children, and eminently qualified 
 to excite affection on their part, it was no slight addition to her 
 looked-for happiness that fancy pictured these little ones 
 bounding to embrace an aunt whom they had doubtless already 
 been taught to love. 
 
 But, although father, sister, and nephews all figured in the 
 vision which Mabel mentally formed of her future home, riot 
 one of them stood in the foreground of her imagination for 
 memory furnished no link which associated them Avith the 
 home of her infancy. Bright and joyous as her anticipations 
 were of what these relatives might become to her in the future, 
 there were no sweet, childish recollections connected with 
 them, to awaken the tender thoughts which cling around a 
 parent's hearth. They were all, in truth, more or less 
 strangers to her, and her conjectures concerning them, how 
 ever pleasing, were necessarily vague and indistinct. 
 
 But there was one member of her family whose very name 
 was suggestive to Mabel's heart of happiness, kindred, and 
 home. There was one whose relation to herself was natural 
 and true ; who, from the cradle upwards, had shared her in 
 terests, her sorrows, and her joys ; who had been the playmate 
 of her infancy, and the confidant, and companion of her girl 
 hood. Her dutiful affection for her father, and her admiring 
 love for her sister, were of comparatively recent growth, but 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 19 
 
 memory could recall no time when she had not dearly loved 
 her brother. With him was connected every association of 
 that early age when, shut out from the sympathy of the rest of 
 the household, they were all in all to each other. Her 
 mother's neglect and her sister's indifference were either un 
 noticed at the time or had long since been forgotten by Mabel ; 
 so, too, had the brilliant and richly-furnished rooms from 
 which she had often been banished in disgrace ; but there still 
 rose, fresh and clear to her recollection, the nursery where she 
 and Harry played, the little hopes which they had mutually 
 shared, and the little disappointments over which they had 
 wept together. Nor were these tender memories all that had 
 hallowed their affection ; for, while time, separation, and ab 
 sence, had built barriers between the other members of the 
 family, Harry and Mabel had been in the habit of yearly in 
 tercourse, often passing many weeks in the enjoyment of each 
 other's society. Not only did they usually meet on occasion 
 of the annual visit to old Mrs. Vaughan, but nearly all 
 Harry's school vacations were passed at Mrs. Herbert's, or at 
 a boarding-house in the neighbourhood, so that the happy 
 home which Mabel had found with her kind instructress came 
 to be considered scarcely less a home by Harry, who volun 
 tarily went there for the holidays. 
 
 A longer separation than usual intervened during two years 
 which the latter passed at West Point ; but this was atoned for 
 by the happiness with which Mabel welcomed the young cadet 
 on occasion of his short leave of absence, and the mingled pride 
 and delight with which she listened to her schoolmar.es' whis 
 pered encomiums of her soldier-brother. 
 
 And when, a few months later, he engaged in a boyish 
 frolic, and was suddenly dismissed from the Military Academy, 
 whose strict rules he had infringed, Mabel readily accepted his 
 apologies, allowed herself to be convinced that he was the 
 most injured of mortals, and loved him all the more for the 
 injustice he had suffered. 
 
 . Mr. Vaughan then sent him abroad to spend two years at a 
 German University ; since which time he had been permitted 
 to make the tour of Europe a tour which the son had pro 
 tracted beyond the original intentions of the father, but from 
 which he had now unexpectedly returned. 
 
 This long absence from Mabel, however, had only served to 
 unite him more closely to her in interest and in heart. Their 
 
 c2 
 
20 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 correspondence had been constant. It was, moreover, full, 
 free, and unrestrained, being- not only a faithful communica 
 tion of facts and events, a familiar interchange of thoughts 
 and ideas, but an affectionate outpouring of mutual love. 
 
 There was no corner of the old world which Harry's foot 
 had trod to which Mabel had not in spirit followed him : no 
 city, river, or mountain which was not enshrined in her 
 memory as the spot which had furnished Harry with some gay 
 adventure, some historic musing, or some vision of glory ; and 
 there was no partner in his winter studies or summer wander 
 ings who did not henceforth stand high in her regard, because 
 he was her brother's friend. 
 
 Thus, from childhood upwards they had been united in each 
 other's love, and every year had but served to strengthen the 
 bonds of mutual dependence and mutual trust. Isolated as 
 both had been from any other strong family tie, the repose, 
 the sympathy, the confiding love, which are the most hallowed 
 influences of home, had been more fully perfected in their 
 relation to each other ; and ready as Mabel was to acknow 
 ledge the claims of the rest of her family, her heart assured 
 her, as she drew near her father's house, that it was Harry's 
 presence there which alone entitled it, in her estimation, to 
 the name of home. 
 
 The first intimation she had received of her brother's return 
 from his foreign tour, was contained in the recent letter from 
 her father, which had summoned her to meet Harry in New 
 York, and preside over the festivities attendant upon the re 
 union of the long scattered family. 
 
 * I cannot arrange matters,' wrote he, l so as to join you at 
 any point on your journey ; you will be rejoiced, however, to 
 hear that not only Louise, the children, and myself will be in 
 New York to welcome you, but your brother Harry is on board 
 the steamer which was yesterday reported at Halifax, and he 
 will arrive here by to-morrow at the latest.' 
 
 It was a dismal autumn afternoon when Mabel reached the 
 city. She had travelled in company with a party of Mr. 
 Vaughan's friends, of whose proffered attendance he had 
 gladly availed himself; and, unfortunately for her hopes of a 
 cordial greeting, she arrived one day sooner than had been 
 anticipated. A less gay and joyous spirit than hers would 
 perhaps have received a sudden check, at the air of soberness 
 and gloom which the paternal mansion wore on her first 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 21 
 
 entrance, at the utter silence which pervaded the hall and 
 parlours, and the stately formality with which she was received 
 by the grave arid elderly footman. At first, indeed, she looked 
 round in some anxiety, lest she had mistaken the house, espe 
 cially, as the tall, stiff figure of a lady dressed in black was just 
 disappearing, at the head of the staircase, with the air of one 
 who is hastily retreating from the sight of visitors. Mabel 
 knew of no such person in the family, and in order to quiet 
 her doubts turned to the footman, and exclaimed inquiringly, 
 ' This is Mr. Vaughan's, my father's ?' 
 
 4 Certainly, Miss,' replied the man, ' but you were not ex 
 pected until to-morrow/ 
 
 A pretty waiting-maid now advanced from the end of the 
 hall, to offer her services to her new mistress, and at the same 
 moment, the tall, stiff lady, who had been leaning over the 
 bannisters to listen, began slowly and cautiously to descend the 
 stairs. Mabel looked up, and, to her astonishment, perceived 
 her aunt, Miss Sabiah Vaughan, the last person in the world 
 whom she had expected to see. Rejoiced, however, at recog 
 nising a familiar face, she sprung to meet her, embracing her 
 with more than her usual warm-heartedness, and exclaiming 
 as she did so ' Aunt Sabiah ! How glad I am to see you !' 
 
 Miss Vaughan partially returned the salutation, although 
 awkwardly, and with evident effort, for she was unaccustomed 
 to such hearty demonstrations of feeling, and putting up her 
 hands, she began nervously to smooth down her collar, which 
 Mabel, in her joy, had slightly disarranged. But although her 
 manner was thus constrained, her face betrayed symptoms of 
 satisfaction which were easily detected by Mabel, who was 
 accustomed to every variation of which her aunt's features 
 were capable. Her nervous agitation, too, Mabel knew to be 
 only the effect of pleasurable excitement, and holding her affec 
 tionately by the hand, the young girl accompanied her up 
 stairs, the pretty waiting-maid preceding them, and throwing 
 open the doors of the chamber and dressing-room which Mr. 
 Vaughan intended for his daughter's use. 
 
 4 But where are all the rest? where is Harry?' inquired 
 Mabel, eagerly, when she had drawn her aunt into the room, 
 and with some difficulty persuaded her to be seated. 
 
 ' Why you were not expected until to-morrow, child,' replied 
 Miss Vaughan, ' and Harry has gone up the river with a party 
 of young fellows, and will not be back until late.' 
 
22 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 * He is come then ? he is safe and well ?' 
 
 * Yes, indeed ; and altered so I hardly knew him.' 
 
 * Oh, how I long to see him !' exclaimed Mabel ; and then 
 followed questions and replies concerning the different mem 
 bers of the family. There was no one at home, however, nor 
 any prospect of an arrival until Mr. Vaughan should return, 
 at six, the usual dinner hour. So, with some difficulty com 
 posing her excited feelings, Mabel resolved to occupy the 
 intervening time in making those changes in her dress which 
 the dust and smoke of travelling had rendered necessary, 
 stipulating that her aunt should remain where she was, and 
 gratify her curiosity on many points, concerning which she was 
 far from being satisfied. 
 
 She could not conceal her astonishment at finding Miss 
 Vaughan apparently domesticated in her father's house, no 
 mention having been made of her in his recent letter. It 
 seemed that Miss Sabiah had reached New York, only the 
 previous day, and had spent the entire morning, unpacking her 
 trunks in an upper chamber, which, being in the most retired 
 part of the house, she had chosen for herself in preference to 
 the room which had first been allotted to her. Since the death 
 of old Mrs. Vanghan, which took place about a year pre 
 vious, Sabiah had boarded in her native village, and had now 
 come by special invitation from her brother to pass the winter 
 in his family. She appeared deeply hurt on learning Mabel's 
 utter ignorance of the plan, having- supposed that it would be 
 communicated to her niece as a fact of some importance. The 
 poor lady had experienced her share of neglect in this world, 
 but was none the less sensitive on that account. She looked 
 discontented, too, and ill at ease ; and so far from contributing 
 to the cheerfulness of the house, and giving it a home-like 
 aspect, her presence seemed to reflect a far more sombre 
 shadow upon the room than those which were cast by the now 
 gradually deepening twilight. Mabel's quick eye and ready 
 sympathies saw and understood her aunt's state of mind at a 
 glance ; but although disappointed herself at her father's and 
 brother's absence, and the chilly nature of her reception, her 
 buoyant nature was far from indulging useless regrets, or 
 dismal forebodings. Her spirits, on the contrary, rose with 
 the necessity of exerting herself to please and cheer one whom 
 she was really delighted to find an inmate of the household, 
 and she hastened to complete her toilet, and divert her aunt's 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 23 
 
 thoughts by a proposition that she would accompany her on a 
 tour through the house, which the young 1 girl was eager to 
 inspect. All was new to Mabel. Mr. Vaughan's residence 
 had recently been subjected to a thorough course of repair 
 and enlargement. Old rooms had been converted into others 
 of far different size and construction, and even the well-re 
 membered nursery, to which Mabel had fancied that instinct 
 would guide her at once, had given place to an octagon apart 
 ment, lit from the ceiling, and evidently intended for a picture 
 cabinet. Miss Sabiah, who was even more unaccustomed than 
 Mabel to the display of luxury and elegance which met them 
 at every turn, and who was overawed and oppressed by the 
 magnificence of her brother's house and furniture, felt a sense 
 of relief as she observed the easy and careless step with which 
 her niece trod the velvet carpets, and the confident and uncon 
 cerned air with which, as they passed through different rooms, 
 she threw open the blinds, raised the curtains, and altered the 
 position of light articles of furniture and adornment. Dark 
 ness, silence, and gloom, seemed to flee before her, and the 
 shadow upon Miss Sabiah's feelings being proportionately dis 
 pelled, she at length gave vent to her sentiments in the sudden 
 exclamation ' Well, Mabel, I am glad you have come to 
 make some of these improvements. Everything is beautiful, 
 to be sure, but it has looked very dull to me, and I believe 
 my brother finds it so too, for he lives entirely in the library, 
 below stairs, and he told me yesterday, that he had not sat in 
 the drawing-room since it was furnished. As for Harry, he 
 has scarcely been at home since I came. Your father asked 
 him at breakfast how he liked the house. I was shocked at 
 the answer he made, and yet I could not wonder much.' 
 
 6 What did he say ?' questioned Mable. 
 
 4 Why, that it seemed to him pretty much like any other 
 old tomb ; and your father laughed and said " Oh, well, when 
 Mabel comes she will manage to brighten it up a little." ' 
 
 And Mr. Vaughah prophesied truly. Already had his 
 daughter's fresh young spirit begun to exert its magic influ 
 ence. Already had the rooms assumed the air of cheerful 
 ness, which youth and taste know so well how to impart. 
 Already had the halls and parlours resounded more than once 
 with her free and joyous peals of laughter. And, stranger 
 still, Miss Sabiah's rigid and indifferent expression had begun 
 to . soften into an occasional smile, while her dull eye had 
 
24 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 caught something of the animation which danced and sparkled 
 in that of her niece. Even the servants, as they heard her 
 merry voice while she passed from room to room, seemed to 
 catch the inspiration of her presence. The neat waiting-maid 
 might be seen tripping through the chambers with a freer 
 step, and a lighter heart, and even the grave footman, as he 
 took the plate from the side-board and spread the table for 
 dinner, found himself humming a tune which he had not 
 heard since he was a boy, 
 
 Truly there is no sunshine so refreshing as that which 
 beams from a happy youthful heart. 
 
 * Now for your favourite song, aunt Sabiah,' exclaimed 
 Mabel, as she threw open the grand pianoforte and seated 
 herself before it : i no one praises my singing as you do.' 
 And the young girl commenced playing a simple air which she 
 had found, many years before, in an old music-book at her 
 grandmother's, and often sung, to the accompaniment of a 
 cracked and worn-out instrument, for her aunt's especial 
 benefit. To sing was as natural to Mabel as to laugh, nor 
 was it any wonderful proof of thoughtful love that she should 
 select the song which would be sure to please her listener 
 best. The appeal to Miss Sabiah's feelings, however, was 
 irresistible ; and as a moment before, her niece's playful 
 sallies had called a smile to her sunken cheek, so now, at this 
 simple proof of loving remembrance, a solitary tear started to 
 her eye and was wiped away unseen. What wonder-working 
 power there must have been in the girl, who could thus 
 summon both smiles and tears from out the withered and 
 wasted heart which had long seemed callous to any strong 
 emotion ! 
 
 Mabel, however, quite unconscious of the effect of her 
 music, had sung but a few lines, when she started from her 
 seat, exclaiming, * I hear my father's voice !' and in an instant 
 more she had bounded down the staircase to meet him. He 
 was not in the hall, but the familiar tones proceeded from the 
 library, the door of which stood open. An eager word of 
 greeting escaped Mabel's lips at the threshold of the room ; 
 but her step was suddenly arrested by the presence of a 
 stranger, who stood near the door, while her father, with his 
 back towards her, was engaged in unlocking a secretary at the 
 opposite end of the library. Mr. Vaughan turned, however, 
 at the sound of her voice, and throwing on the table a large 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 25 
 
 roll of papers which he had just taken from the shelf of his 
 cabinet, he came towards her with an air of surprise, lifting 
 his spectacles from his nose as if to make sure that the glasses 
 were not deceiving him, and exclaiming, as he stretched out a 
 welcome hand, ' Mabel ! my daughter ! is it possible ! Why, 
 where did you come from ?' 
 
 Mabel answered only by a glad smile ; for, before she 
 could proceed to make any explanation of her unlooked-for 
 arrival, she caught the sudden glance of embarrassment which 
 (the first surprise being past) overspread the countenance of 
 her reserved parent, at the consciousness of the stranger's pre 
 sence. Mabel, too, shared this sensation of awkwardness, for 
 her father did not introduce the individual, who appeared to 
 be a business-agent, as he had by this time unfolded the 
 papers and spread upon the table a number of maps and 
 charts, which he was diligently studying. 
 
 1 You are busy,' said Mabel, in an undertone. * I will go 
 back to my aunt.' 
 
 Her father hesitated, glanced towards his visitor, but still 
 retained her hand in Ids. 
 
 At the same moment, the stranger, who was handling the 
 charts in a hurried manner, and seemed to be in haste, made 
 an abrupt inquiry as to the extent and value of certain landed 
 property, and as Mr. Vaughan turned to reply, Mabel slipped 
 quietly out of the room. 
 
 Miss Sabiah had but just determined to follow her niece 
 down stairs when she met her returning. 
 
 'Father is busy now,' said Mabel, in explanation, 'let us 
 go back and finish the song.' 
 
 The song was finished, and several others had been succes 
 sively sung, when Mabel, who had paused between each to 
 listen for the stranger's departure, at length announced that 
 he had gone, and now at her persuasion her aunt accompanied 
 her to the library. She was once more, however, doomed to 
 disappointment, and to the mortification of feeling herself an 
 intruder. The papers were still spread on the table ; and on 
 entering, Mabel thought her ears must have deceived her, for 
 Mr. Vaughan was still attentively engaged in examining 
 them, with the aid of another person, whose head was bent 
 down so as to conceal his face, and \vhom, at a first glance, 
 Mabel concluded to be the man whom she heard a few 
 moments before bidding her father good night. 
 
26 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 It proved, however, to be her brother-in-law, Mr. Leroy, 
 who had come in unheard, and who rose on her entrance and 
 greeted her cordially, although with an absent air; so ab 
 stracted was he that he did not observe Miss Sabiah, until 
 Mr. Vaughan had twice introduced her as his sister, and even 
 then he failed to notice the icy stiffness with which she 
 returned his forced and indifferent bow. His manner was 
 restless and uneasy ; and after a few words of inquiry as to 
 Mabel's health and journey, he was evidently anxious to 
 resume the subject in which he and Mr. Vaughan appeared to 
 be mutually interested. 
 
 The latter interfered, however, greatly to the relief of 
 Mabel, who was beginning to look with an almost jealous eye 
 upon these important charts, which seemed so many barriers 
 between herself and her father, so many rival claims to his 
 notice and interest. * Not now, Leroy,' said he, in a decided 
 tone, thrusting the papers aside and removing his spectacles. 
 * Mabel has but just come I have scarcely seen her. I shall 
 be at leisure to-morrow, and we can then come to a decision ; 
 but about those Eastern stocks ' and then followed a few 
 hasty words in a low tone, to which Mr. Leroy assented by a 
 quick but earnest nodding of the head, after which he im 
 mediately took his hat to depart. Mabel asked after her 
 sister. * I think it probable she is under the hair-dresser's 
 hands,' was the reply. i I believe she is going to Mrs. D.'s 
 ball to-night.' Mabel expressed a hope that she would come 
 to see her the next day, if not too much fatigued, and Mr. 
 Leroy, having declined an invitation to dinner, took his 
 leave. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan gathered up the scattered papers, placed 
 them in the secretary, closed and locked the door, and, as lie 
 put the key in his pocket, his face assumed a relieved and 
 satisfied expression, which seemed to say that for the present 
 he had done with business and was free to enjoy the society of 
 his sister and child. lie was not naturally a talkative man, 
 and Mabel had never been in his company without experiencing 
 a consciousness of his inability to maintain an animated con 
 versation. He was one of that large class of individuals 
 xvhose characters unbend most fully under their own roof, 
 and who never appear to such advantage as in the privacy of 
 their domestic circle. He had also many inquiries to make 
 concerning Mabel's journey, her travelling companions, and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 27 
 
 the hour of her arrival ; and, as he drew a chair to the fire, 
 bestowing upon her at the same time a pleased and affectionate 
 glance, she felt emboldened to address him with something of 
 the ease and familiarity of a privileged child. She also by 
 degrees beguiled her aunt into the conversation which was fast 
 assuming a lively tone, and before long, the little group so 
 suddenly brought together, presented the air of a home-circle 
 engaged in familiar fireside intercourse. 
 
 There was no mistaking the proud satisfaction with which 
 Mr. Vaughan presided at his dinner-table that day, realizing 
 at once the comforts, the freedom, and the retirement of home, 
 from which he had so long been debarred, and which his in 
 creasing age now rendered more than ever desirable. The 
 quiet dignity and precision which were his striking charac 
 teristics could not wholly hide the pleasurable emotions with 
 which he once more felt himself a family man. Beneath the 
 veil of strict courtesy towards Miss Sabiah might be detected 
 no small degree of brotherly kindness ; and although his voice 
 dwelt with evident pleasure upon the words ' my daughter,' 
 his mild eye, as it turned upon Mabel, bespoke a deeper well- 
 spring of fatherly love than any words which his lips knew how 
 to utter. 
 
 Nor was the gleam of pleasure any less evident which over 
 spread Miss Sabiah's features when Mabel insisted upon her 
 occupying the seat of honour opposite her father, which the 
 elder lady, with an awkward show of humility, was disposed to 
 resign, but which Mabel disclaimed the possibility of filling, 
 assuring her aunt that she alone was entitled to preside there. 
 Whatever might have been Mr. Vaughan's preference in the 
 matter he was too well-bred to interfere ; and the deference 
 with which Mabel thus yielded to her aunt's superior claims 
 gratified her sensitive and watchful pride, arid was a soothing 
 balm to feelings which had been roughly chafed by her past 
 experience. 
 
 Harry's absence was the only drawback to the happiness of 
 the party. ' Do not sit up for him, Mabel,' said Mr. Vaughan, 
 as, dinner concluded, he prepared to leave the house. * Nor 
 for me either,' continued he ; ' I have an appointment at nine 
 o'clock, and shall not be in until late. You must be fatigued 
 with your journey, and you will find enough to do to-morrow. 
 Louise will want to take you on a grand shopping expedition, 
 and Harry, I have no doubt, has his head full of plans.' 
 
28 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Once more left to themselves, Mabel and Miss Sabiah 
 returned to the cheerful and well-lit library ; and soon the 
 former, taking- a low seat near her aunt, begged to hear some 
 account of her solitary journey to town, the particulars of 
 which she had not yet learned. 
 
 Miss Sabiah, pleased and gratified at having so ready an 
 audience to several little misadventures of the previous day, 
 proceeded to relate them at length, and found in Mabel an 
 attentive listener. 
 
 In less time than Miss Sabiah occupied in narrating her 
 travels we will take a glance at the history of her life. 
 
 The life of an old maid ! A desert, a blank, an unwritten 
 page to the careless, the thoughtless, the unobservant mind. 
 But to the initiated eye, which faithfully scans its past, its 
 present, and its future experience, may it not prove a world 
 of strong affections, conflicting duties, anxious cares, and 
 busy memories, whose only register is hidden in one human 
 heart? 
 
 Sabiah Vaughan was the youngest of three children, having 
 besides her brother a sister who was a few years her senior. 
 Their father was a man of good standing in his own town, a 
 respectable country trader, and, during the latter years of his 
 life, president of the village bank. Their mother was a notable 
 housewife, somewhat imperious in her temper and ambitious 
 in her views. This ambition centred principally upon her 
 children's success in life, and was proportionately gratified 
 when her son became a successful merchant, and her eldest 
 daughter married a man of property and went to reside in a 
 neighbouring town. Sabiah was still young and could afford 
 to wait awhile ; or, as her mother used occasionally to say to 
 her neighbours, ' Now that John is doing so well, and 
 Margaret is settled so much to my mind, 1 feel quite easy 
 about my family. I am not particular about Sabiah's 
 marrying at all, or, if she does, there is plenty of time yet 
 for her to look about and make as good a match as her sister 
 has done.' 
 
 But, unfortunately, a barrier had already arisen to Sabiah's 
 ever making what her mother considered a good match. 
 During those years when Mrs. Vaughan's mind had been 
 chiefly occupied with the welfare of her other childen, Sabiah's 
 affections had become fixed upon one whose poverty was his 
 only un worthiness. But he was a good scholar, and although 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 29 
 
 his father was a farmer in narrow circumstances, the son as 
 pired to one day studying for the ministry ; and in looking 
 forward to becoming a clergyman's wife, Sabiah never dreamed 
 of insulting the dignity of her family. So, when the simple- 
 hearted girl made a confidante of her mother, she was as much 
 astonished as grieved at the torrent of reproach which her 
 communication called forth. She was reminded of her brother's 
 wealth, her sister's high position, and asked if she were willing 
 to bring disgrace upon her father's house by connecting her 
 self with beggars. She was reluctantly compelled to admit 
 that it would be years before her lover and herself could rea 
 sonably hope to marry, and was at length commanded by both 
 her parents to break at once an engagement to which they 
 would never give their consent. 
 
 Sabiah was a gentle-spirited girl. She had been taught 
 from her childhood to yield strict obedience to parental 
 government. She dared not listen to those secret whisperings 
 which termed it, in this instance, parental tyranny, and after 
 a few months of what was, by the united voice of the family, 
 termed obstinate persistence in folly, she at length reluctantly 
 consented to abide by their decision. 
 
 That her heart, however, was not unfaithful, the sorrow of 
 years bore witness. 
 
 Her lover left their village soon after his mortifying dismis 
 sion, studied for the ministry, and eventually married another. 
 Sabiah remained in her father's house, patiently fulfilling a 
 daughter's duties and struggling with a life-long regret. 
 
 Nor did the filial obedience and filial respect which had 
 prompted this greatest of sacrifices, diminish or falter during 
 many years of severe privation and trial. So long as her 
 father lived, her devotion to him was most exemplary ; a de 
 votion which was painfully tested during the months of dis 
 tressing illness which preceded his death, when Sabiah's face 
 grew pale, and her figure wasted with constant care and 
 watching. 
 
 His affairs in the meantime suffered some disorder, and at 
 his death the widow and her daughter were quite cut off from 
 their usual means of subsistence, their only property consisting 
 in the house and a few acres of unproductive land. ' They 
 will be very well off, however,' said the neighbours. ' John 
 will settle something upon his mother, and Margaret is rich.' 
 And when, in the course of years, Sabiah's health became 
 
30 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 feeble and her hair turned gray, and the village gossips re 
 marked that her temper was getting sadly soured, they said 
 one to another, ' Now, what can Sabiah Vanghan have to vex 
 or wear upon her, with such a comfortable home and such a 
 quiet life as she leads ? If she had a husband that was hard to 
 please, and children that Avere sick and fretful, and a great 
 dairy like mine to attend to, I could conceive of her being 
 irritable now and then, and looking old and careworn, but 
 really there is no excuse for her with nothing in the world to 
 trouble her.' 
 
 Was it nothing, then, that for ten long years Sabiah's mo 
 notonous existence had been varied only by the petty and 
 vexatious cares and economies which dependence and a narrow 
 income entail ? Was it nothing, that during all that time she 
 had experienced constant trials of spirit in consequence of her 
 mother's arbitrary temper, which, since her husband's death, 
 was deprived of its only check ? Was it nothing, that all her 
 dutiful efforts and habitual sacrifices called forth no praise, 
 while for every omission or neglect she was reproved as if she 
 had still been a child? Was it nothing that, while the osten 
 tatious gifts of her wealthy brother and purse-proud sister 
 called forth grateful acknowledgments quite disproportioned 
 to their value, her life-long services were received with cold 
 ness and indifference, and that, while the wealth and position 
 of these more favoured relatives were a constant theme for the 
 old lady's self-congratulation the prospects of Sabiah were 
 seldom referred to saving for the sake of contrast ? 
 
 If with simple faith arid childish trust the solitary heart 
 could have found repose in Him who suffereth not these things 
 in vain, such outward trials might not have had power to mar 
 her inward peace ; but as, while she yielded submission to her 
 earthly parents, she had been debarred from that great solace 
 and sweetener of existence which is found in human love, so, 
 while she made no outward rebellion to the lot apportioned to 
 her by a heavenly Father, she failed to recognize in it the 
 hand of love divine. 
 
 Was it strange, then, that her heart grew cold ? Or who 
 can wonder that, with affections chilled, and sympathies 
 blunted, she became at last irritable, distrustful, and reserved ? 
 She had drank from a bitter cup, and the gall had penetrated 
 into her heart. 
 
 That heart was not wholly callous, however. Its sensibili- 
 
MABEL VAUCHAN. 31 
 
 ties were not wholly destroyed. There was one little oasis in 
 the desert, one little spring of life and hope amid the wilder 
 ness. It was the only one, but its source lay deep, and its 
 power might be made sufficient to fertilize the whole ; for 
 there was one being in the world in whose welfare Sabiah still 
 felt a tender and affectionate interest. And that was Mabel. 
 
 Strangely enough, this affection for her brother's child was 
 closely associated with that deep parental respect and rever 
 ence which formed so strong a trait in Sabiah's character, and 
 which years of injustice had not power to efface. For it was 
 the fact that the child was named for her grandmother 
 Vaughan, which first gave her a claim to Sabiah's love. It 
 seemed to ally her more closely to their side of the house, and 
 distinguish her from her mother's fashionable connections, for 
 whom Sabiah felt a mingled awe and dislike. Moreover, the 
 circumstances of her childhood and school life kept her en 
 tirely aloof from family ties and prejudices, thus giving to her 
 maiden aunt a tolerable chance to win some share of the little 
 girl's affections. 
 
 Nor was this strong predisposition in Mabel's favour in 
 any degree lessened during those periodical visits to her 
 grandmother, to which we have already alluded. She was 
 then thrown wholly upon the care of her aunt, and was in a 
 great degree dependent upon her companionship, especially 
 during these later years in which Harry had ceased to accom 
 pany his sister. And Sabiah welcomed the care, which was 
 her only labour of love throughout the year, and rejoiced in 
 the companionship which cheered and enlivened her otherwise 
 dull and monotonous life, while with every succeeding summer 
 her heart became more and more closely linked to the 
 child. 
 
 Nor did Mabel fail to appreciate this kindness/and recipro 
 cate this love. It was true she often wearied of her visits, 
 and was impatient to return to her schoolmates, for Mrs. 
 Vaughan's house furnished but little diversion for youth. 
 But Sabiah, nevertheless, had the satisfaction of seeing that 
 she had found a place in the heart of her niece ; and this 
 happy conviction was confirmed by the fact, that as Mabel 
 grew into womanhood, she seemed to find not only content 
 ment, but pleasure in her society, and gave still further 
 evidence of her gratitude and affection by many a word, letter, 
 and token of remembrance. How those words sank into 
 
32 MABEL VAUGHAX 
 
 Sabiah's heart, how those letters were read and re-read, and 
 with what fondness those gifts were treasured up, Mabel little 
 knew. As little did she guess that a deep love for herself 
 was the one green spot in a withered heart ; that it rested 
 with her to let that heart remain a wilderness, or bid it 
 blossom like the rose. 
 
 How lightly the responsibility rests upon her now ; and yet 
 she is unconsciously fulfilling it in part, while she sits with 
 upturned and attentive face, lending a ready ear to a story of 
 misadventure and alarm, her beautiful and expressive features, 
 as seen in the flickering fire-light, proclaiming her warm 
 hearted sympathy in the tale ! 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The world before her smiles its changeful gaze 
 She hath not proved as yet ; her path seems gay 
 
 With flowers and sunshine, and the voice of praise 
 Is still the joyous herald of her way. 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 Two or three hours passed away. Miss Sabiah's recent 
 experience had been fully detailed, more remote reminiscences 
 had in turn been called up and dwelt upon, and now the elder 
 lady began to exhibit manifest signs of weariness. Mabel, 
 although somewhat fatigued, would not allow herself to think 
 of sleep until she had seen Harry ; but, compassionating her 
 aunt, whom she suspected of one or two naps already, she pro 
 posed that they should ring the bell, inquire if the gas was lit 
 above stairs, and then seek their rooms. She mentally 
 resolved to return to the library and wait Harry's arrival, as 
 soon as she had accompanied her aunt to her chamber and 
 ascertained that her wants were all supplied ; but she said 
 nothing of this intention, and after receiving Sabiah's assent 
 to the first proposition, she rose to summon a servant. At the 
 same moment the door-bell sounded, and Mabel, who was 
 listening intently for her brother's footsteps, heard a merry 
 peal of laughter, and several lively female voices. In an 
 instant more, a party of ladies, in gay cloaks and full evening 
 toilet, were unceremoniously ushered into. the room, to the 
 astonishment of Mabel and the discomfiture of her aunt, 
 whose fit of drowsiness was at once dispelled by this unex 
 pected, and, to her, unwelcome arrival. 
 
 Mabel's first glance at their visitors betrayed only surprise 
 and bewilderment, but her face became radiant with pleasure 
 as she recognized Mrs. Leroy, who was foremost in the group, 
 and who, smiling at the confusion their entrance had occa 
 sioned, greeted her young sister with a manner which was at 
 
 D 
 
34 :,IADI:L YAUGHAN. 
 
 once affectionate and marked by perfect grace. She then 
 turned towards her aunt, who maintained a stiff position in 
 front of the sofa, and touched the tips of her fingers with an 
 easy and careless air, at the same time bestowing on her dress 
 and figure a somewhat contemptuous scrutiny. 
 
 Meanwhile, her companions claimed Mabel's attention. 
 The one, a middle-aged lady, dressed in a brocade of butterfly 
 hues, and wearing white ostrich feathers in her hair, waited 
 for no introduction, declaring that forms might be dispensed 
 with in her case, as she loved her already for her dear mother's 
 sake, and for the sake of Louise, who was her most intimate 
 friend. She then presented her daughter, a sylph in tarleton, 
 who pressed Mabel's hand with a warmth which seemed an 
 earnest of the friendship that her mother hoped before long to 
 see existing between them. 
 
 Mabel was both pleased and flattered. She believed them 
 to have left the ball-room at an early hour, in order to bestow 
 on her this unceremonious and cordial welcome, and she met 
 their advances with a proportionate degree of animation and 
 interest. 
 
 At this moment, while they were still standing near the 
 doorway, the bustle which attended their entrance not having 
 wholly subsided, the bell rang again, and this time Mabel 
 distinctly heard Harry's step in the hall. As the familiar 
 sound of his voice at the same instant met her ear, politeness 
 gave way to sudden and joyful excitement, and breaking from 
 her guests without explanation or apology, she ran hastily out 
 of the room. 
 
 They stared at one another in mutual astonishment ; but 
 their conjectures concerning her behaviour were short lived, 
 for before Louise could follow, to learn the cause of her 
 sister's agitation, Mabel returned, leaning on the arm of her 
 tall and handsome brother, who, unconscious of the presence 
 of visitors, playfully drew her into the strongest light the 
 room afforded, and after scanning her features with evident 
 satisfaction, and many an explanation of surprise and pleasure, 
 sealed his approbation with several hearty kisses. 
 
 Mrs. Varmecker, the elder of Mrs. Leroy's companions, now 
 betrayed her presence by a loud and boisterous laugh, accom 
 panied by a slight giggle from her daughter, while Louise ex 
 claimed, in a tone which conveyed astonishment, if not reproof, 
 i Well, Harry, you are very demonstrative !' 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 35 
 
 Harry, nothing disturbed, however, by the presence of wit 
 nesses, paid his respects to the ladies with perfect unconcern, 
 still holding his blushing sister by the hand. Mrs. Vannecker 
 commenced some bantering comments upon his brotherly en 
 thusiasm, while Mabel addressed herself to the difficult task of 
 entertaining Miss Victoria, The latter, however, had neither 
 eyes nor ears for any one but Harry, and the conversation soon 
 became general. 
 
 If Mabel could have had her choice, she would have pre 
 ferred a more private opportunity for this long-desired meeting 
 with her brother, but now she thought nothing could be more 
 agreeable than the pleasant little confusion of friendly voices 
 which his coming had only served to increase, nothing could 
 be more exciting than the discussion of plans which imme 
 diately ensued, nothing more gratifying to her self-love than 
 the fact that all these plans had more or less reference to her 
 enjoyment and advantage. 
 
 And happy herself, she did not even notice (naughty girl) 
 that her aunt Sabiah had retreated to a distance from the com 
 pany, and sat with her back nearly turned towards them, 
 moodily gazing into the fire, and apparently ill at ease ; she 
 did not even pause to consider whether Louise might not, like 
 herself, have forgotten to introduce her to the strangers in 
 the party, and thus, as it were, excluded her from the conver 
 sation. 
 
 Harry, while he expressed many regrets that neither his 
 father nor himself had been at the boat-landing to meet Mabel, 
 seemed greatly satisfied with the result of his afternoon's expe 
 dition, declaring that it had 'been the means of his securing 
 such a pair of horses as could not be matched in the city. 
 
 * Father gave me unlimited authority to make the purchase,' 
 said he, ' and I was determined that Mabel's first drive should 
 be with her own horses, and that there should not be a finer 
 pair to be seen in Broadway.' 
 
 ' Her first drive must be on a round of shopping/ exclaimed 
 Louise. ' I, too, have father's authority for making purchases 
 of equal or even greater importance. If you will postpone 
 your excursion until the next day,' continued she, laughing, 
 
 * I will see that Mabel has a bonnet suitable to the occasion. 
 But, Harry, are you not going to the ball ?' 
 
 Before he could reply, Mrs. Vannecker began to expostulate 
 warmly against his remaining at home, and Miss Vannecker 
 
 D 2 
 
36 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 added in a persuasive tone ' Oh, I am sure your sister will 
 excuse you it is to be such a splendid affair, and she has been 
 travelling all day, and must be too much fatigued to enjoy 
 even your society any later/ 
 
 It was with some difficulty that Mabel could be brought to 
 realize that they were going to the ball at this hour of the 
 night, instead of returning as she had supposed, and as in her 
 ignorance of city times and seasons she had thus betrayed her 
 own more simple habits, this fact furnished a new argument 
 for Miss Vannecker, who now insisted that it would be but 
 common charity on Harry's part to bid Mabel good-night and 
 follow them to the ball. 
 
 Mabel accompanied her sister and her new friends to the 
 hall-door, to listen to Louise's plans for the morrow, and re 
 ceive their gay parting words, and while Harry waited upon 
 them to the carriage, she returned to the library, exclaiming, 
 4 O, aunt, isn't my sister beautiful ?' 
 
 ( She looks very well,' said Miss Sabiah tartly, ' but I wish 
 she wasn't so conscious of it herself. It was ridiculous to see 
 her and that Miss what-do-you-call-her looking at themselves 
 in the glass every two minutes, while they were here ;' and 
 Miss Sabiah rose from her chair with a jerk, which seemed to 
 say ' well ! now they're gone, I suppose we can go to bed !' 
 
 ' How good they were,' said Mabel, in a half soliloquy, as she 
 followed her aunt up stairs, to come here and see us for a few 
 minutes, when they were on their way to a ball.' 
 
 ' The very reason they came,' responded Miss Sabiah in the 
 same sharp tone in which she had previously spoken; and a 
 moment after, as if carrying out 'the same train of thought, she 
 continued, ' I hate to see folks make such a display ! it don't 
 impose upon me though.' 
 
 Mabel could not find it in her heart to impute the visit to 
 other than the most disinterested and amiable motives, and 
 remembering now, for the first time, that her aunt had kept 
 aloof, and seemed an alien to their gay circle, the suspicion 
 crossed her mind that a sense of neglect prompted the severity 
 of her remarks. 
 
 Anxious to atone for this, she accompanied her to her room, 
 explained the working of the window-shades, and the manage 
 ment of the gas (both of which were mysteries to Sabiah), and 
 proposed several plans to be carried out on the morrow, for 
 the promotion of her comfort and convenience. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 37 
 
 Miss Sabiah seemed gratified with these little attentions. 
 The hard expression of her face softened somewhat, and the 
 tone of her voice, as she said good-night, was sufficient evi 
 dence that whatever might be the cause of her dissatisfaction, 
 she attached no blame to the conduct of her favourite niece. 
 
 As Mabel descended the staircase which led from her aunt's 
 chamber, she observed a bright light streaming from a room 
 adjoining the parlour, the door of which, although locked in 
 the earlier part of the evening, now stood ajar ; at the same 
 moment, she heard Harry's voice calling to her from within. 
 
 To her surprise, she found him stretched in an indolent atti 
 tude upon a sofa, attired in dressing-gown and slippers, and 
 evidently with no intention of going to the ball. The interest 
 with which he had listened to Miss Vannecker's entreaties, and 
 the apparent assent which his manner implied, had deceived 
 her as to his real intentions. 
 
 ' What ! go to a ball the first evening of your arrival,' ex 
 claimed he, in reply to her looks and words of astonishment, 
 * and that, too, when I have not seen you these four years ! 
 You must think I care a great deal for balls, or very little for 
 my sister ;' and as he spoke, he drew her affectionately to a 
 seat beside him. ' You are not tired,' continued he, * at least 
 you do not look so.' 
 
 She did not indeed. Not only was her face radiant with 
 pleasure at this proof of her brother's unchanged affection, but 
 every object around her served to summon up such emotions 
 of delighted surprise, as quite put to flight every thought of 
 weariness. The little room, which she had now entered for 
 the first time, seemed to the young school-girl a perfect vision 
 of enchantment. The costly furnished parlours, the well-filled 
 library, the wide staircases, and lofty halls, had pleased her 
 by their magnificence, and impressed her with new convictions 
 of her father's wealth. But there was something in this little 
 apartment, which appealed to that higher sense, and that more 
 refined taste which were by no means wanting in Mabel, in 
 spite of her light and thoughtless gaiety. The draperied walls 
 and windows gave to the room that air of seclusion and repose 
 which had been wanting to the rest of the house, while a 
 flower-stand of delicate wire-work was covered with choice 
 plants in full bloom, imparting to the atmosphere the freshness 
 and fragrance of a garden. The pictures were few, but their 
 subjects appealed to Mabel's heart, and she felt rather than 
 
38 MABEL YAUGHAN. 
 
 recognized, the power of a master's band. There was no glare 
 of mirror?, no rich display of gilding to dazzle the eve. but 
 there were vases of classic form, tables exquisitely inlaid, a 
 rich buhl writing desk, a miniature book-case of well-chosen 
 books, and a few statuettes, while the silvery light which 
 streamed from an alabaster lamp of curious workmanship, 
 gave to the whole a softened and subdued effect. 
 
 Harry watched his sister with evident satisfaction, while she 
 made an eager survey of each beautiful object, her eye kindling 
 with pleasure, and many an expression of enthusiastic delight 
 escaping from her lips." * O, Harry, 1 exclaimed she, at 
 6 how beautiful your room is !' 
 
 ' Mine!' replied Harry. You surely do not think all this 
 lady-like trumpery belongs to me. A seat in the corner of the 
 sofa I mean sometimes to claim, but everything else here is at 
 your own disposal.' 
 
 This was too much for Mabel's composure. She had left 
 her brother's side to examine more minutely the attractive 
 decorations of the room, but as he proclaimed her the mistress 
 of them all. she hastily stole behind him, where he could not 
 see the fast-gathering tears called up by gratified feeling, and 
 bending her head over his shoulder, she strove, by earnest 
 words and caresses, to manifest her appreciation of his kindness, 
 for she rightly conjectured that this little treasure-cabinet 
 contained the gleanings of Harry's foreign tour. 
 
 ' You are too lavish of your thanks, my dear/ said Harry 
 in a lively tone, after Mabel bad again and again enlarged 
 upon his generosity, taste, and forethought. ' It cost "me no 
 self-denial to spend my father's money, of which I always had 
 such a liberal supply, and I assure you, I had very little to do 
 with the selection of these fancy articles, except if be a few of 
 the books. All you have to thank me for. is the fact that the 
 Terpsichore did not arrive here minus the tips of her finser*. 
 and that Apollo was saved a broken nose. It cost me a world 
 of pains to get those things properly packed, and passed 
 through the custom-houses in safety. I would not have done 
 it for anybody but you. May. but since you are pleased. I feel 
 very well paid for the trouble. Can you speak German?* 
 continued he. rising and walking towards the book-case. 
 
 Xo.' answered Mabel, ' but 1 read it a little.' 
 
 4 You must study it with me,' said Harry ; ' you will soon 
 like it as well as I do ; we will read these together/ added he, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 39 
 
 placing 1 his hand upon the works of some of the best German 
 authors, ' and I will teach you to enjoy Schiller and Klop- 
 stock.' 
 
 ' So you will take me for a pupil !' exclaimed Mabel. c Oh, 
 that will be delightful ; and this shall be our school-room.' 
 
 Harry had taken a richly bound volume from the shelf, and 
 was now glancing at it with the eager and almost fond interest 
 of one who cherishes a keen appreciation of an author; for 
 Harry's intellectual tastes had of late developed rapidly. As 
 he closed the book and replaced it, he said 
 
 * The only difficulty in the way of your studious plans, is 
 that Louise and the Yannecker set will have the advantage 
 of me, and engross all your time. Louise is a complete 
 woman of fashion just what you will be in a week,' added 
 he, playfully. 
 
 Mabel eagerly and almost indignantly repelled the sugges 
 tion. A woman of fashion she should never be not if he 
 meant by tiiat a mere worldling. She should enjoy society, of 
 course, as she supposed Louise did ; but that need not interfere 
 with her reading, studying, and faithfully keeping up an 
 extensive correspondence with her school-friends. 
 
 Harry smiled good naturedly, but with an incredulous look, 
 and an admiring glance at her beautiful face and figure a 
 glance that seemed to say ' the world will claim you, whether 
 you will or not.' 
 
 But there was no replying to a smile, however expressive it 
 might be, and Mabel, not appearing to observe its meaning, 
 turned to the Terpsichore, which stood in a little alcove, and, 
 after expatiating upon the shame it would have been if such 
 an exquisite thing had been injured in its removal, she inquired 
 to whom she was indebted for its selection. 
 
 ' You tell me that you did not consult your own taste ; do 
 you mean that these gems were recommended to you by the 
 artists themselves ?' 
 
 i No, indeed ; but I had the benefit of counsel more reliable 
 than my own, or the artists' either. Dudley was with me in 
 Florence, and in most of the studios I visited abroad. His 
 taste is perfect ; more than that, May, he seemed to flatter 
 himself that he thoroughly understood yours. It was really 
 ridiculous, the way in which he insisted upon my bringing 
 that musical genius home ; he declared we had seen nothing 
 in all our travels so suited to your refined and youthful taste ; 
 
40 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 and the Iris, too nothing would do but I should secure that 
 gossamer belle, at any rate. He confidently assured me that 
 they would be of priceless value, in your eyes. I long to have 
 you see Dudley, Mabel ; he is a splendid fellow.' 
 
 Mabel turned away to examine the picture, and, at the same 
 time, to hide a blush at what she felt to be no ordinary com 
 pliment from a man like Lincoln Dudley. 
 
 Although some years her brother's senior, Dudley had 
 been his companion, not only during a few months spent in 
 Paris, when Harry first went abroad, but also, more recently, 
 on a most interesting pedestrian excursion through Switzer 
 land, Germany, and some parts of Italy. Thus, for years, 
 his praises had been familiar to her, through Harry's letters ; 
 'and, from this source, too, she had become inspired with the 
 greatest respect for his uncommon talents, and a most romantic 
 interest in his somewhat eccentric character. She was well 
 aware that her weekly correspondence with her brother had 
 brought her to Dudley's knowledge, and, in some degree, to 
 his acquaintance ; still she felt not a little flattered at his hav 
 ing thus studied her character, and divined her tastes, among 
 which, enthusiasm for art was inherent, though, as yet, but 
 little cultivated. 
 
 1 When does Mr. Dudley return ?' asked she, with apparent 
 carelessness. 
 
 ' In a few weeks. We should have come together, but he 
 was unexpectedly detained in Paris. You will be unlike 
 most ladies, if you do not admire Dudley ; he is, generally 
 speaking, very popular. I wonder what he will think of 
 those horses I bought to-day ?' 
 
 ' Is he a judge of horse-flesh ?' asked Mabel, in some surprise. 
 
 1 No more than he is of everything. I doubt whether he 
 understands a single point about a horse ; still he could tell 
 at a glance whether a gentleman's equipage was complete, 
 and I would trust to his judgment in a purchase of any sort.' 
 
 Here Harry's panegyric of his friend was interrupted by his 
 father's return home. He glanced at his watch, discovered the 
 lateness of the hour, and, blaming himself for keeping Mabel 
 up so late, went away in spite of her assurance that she was 
 not the least fatigued. A few moments after, Mr. Yaughan, 
 hearing her voice, and seeing a light in the room, looked in 
 to reprimand her for not being asleep, and bade her a kindly 
 good-night ; after which, she was left to her own thoughts. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 41 
 
 Exciting thoughts they were ; and such as, it may well be 
 imagined, robbed Mabel of sleep during many an hour of that 
 first night spent under her father's roof. 
 
 What indulgence, what love, what pride were evinced in 
 the demeanour of each member of her family towards her ! 
 What plans had they already formed for her happiness ! 
 With what bounty had every want been foreseen, and pro 
 vided for ! Now the thought of her father's affectionate 
 liberality was uppermost in her mind ; then came the recol 
 lection of her manly brother, his warm-hearted welcome, and 
 the promise of future happy days in his society ; and this, in 
 its turn, was dispelled by the vision of her graceful sister, 
 who seemed a fitting type of that select and elegant circle 
 into which Mabel was soon to be introduced, and in which 
 she already foresaw the future triumphs that awaited her. 
 
 But there were some things which she did not think of, 
 the very things which Mrs. Herbert had feared she would 
 forget, and had laboured to impress upon her memory. She 
 did not think of her kind teacher's last injunction, last warn 
 ing, and last lesson. She quite forgot the duty which every 
 blessing entails, the obligation which is bound up in eveiy 
 privilege, and while her cup was running over, she forgot to 
 ask whose hand had filled it. Not that her heart was cold, 
 or that generous emotions were lost in selfish satisfaction. 
 The tenderest love shone in her affectionate smile, gratitude 
 sparkled in the quick-starting tear, and the unquestioning trust 
 with which her young heart reposed in each new assurance of 
 affection, proved the depth of her faithful, confiding nature. 
 
 But, alas ! her love is not for Him who has meted out her 
 lot so graciously ; her moist eye is not uplifted in thankful 
 ness to the Source whence all these blessings flow ; her 
 ardent trust is not in Him, without whom all confidence is 
 vain. Not yet has Mabel learned the sacredness of her 
 mission ; not yet has she realized its duties, or its pangs. 
 For the present it is her business to be happy, and her joy to 
 be beloved. 
 
 Well for her, if, when pleasure's altars are shattered, 
 when selWove awakens from its dream, and life be no longer 
 a pastime, her spirit can bow in meek submission, and the 
 inner tern pie of the heart be consecrated to the service of Him 
 whose love can impart to a life of toil and trial a foretaste of 
 the joys of Heaven ! 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 So forth she sallied, blithe and gay, 
 And met dame Fashion by the way ; 
 And many a kind and friendly greeting 
 
 Passed on their meeting : 
 Nor let the fact your wonder move, 
 Fashion and she are hand and glove. 
 
 MRS. BARBAULD. 
 
 MRS. LEHOY'S home was on the second floor of a fashionable 
 hotel. The cares of housekeeping were so irksome to Louise, 
 and so ill-fulfilled, that her husband at length acceded to her 
 often-repeated entreaty that she might be promoted to the in 
 dependence and luxury of hotel-life ; and she had now been 
 for two successive winters the occupant of an elegant suite of 
 rooms, in close proximity to the apartments of her friend, 
 Mrs. Vannecker, whose example had stimulated the fickle 
 Louise, and encouraged her inherent love of change. 
 
 Mr. Leroy, who at first opposed this arrangement, had now 
 become its warmest advocate ; for, while his natural indolence 
 had prevented his exercising any efficient check upon his 
 wife's domestic mismanagement, he had been the chief sufferer 
 from the anarchy and confusion which pervaded his establish 
 ment ; and he found under the present system, if not an in 
 crease of actual happiness, a release from many petty annoy 
 ances, and a marked lessening of his yearly expenditure. 
 And whatever accustomed comforts his new home failed to 
 supply, were amply compensated for at his club, of which he 
 was a constant frequenter. 
 
 Louise found here, as she had elsewhere, continual sources 
 of discontent, and was often restless and dissatisfied ; especially 
 did she murmur at the peculiar misfortune and hardship which 
 restricted her in her present mode of life from many social 
 privileges to which she had been accustomed in her own 
 house, and it was, therefore, with proportionate joy that she 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 43 
 
 received the first intimation of her father's intentions and 
 plans. 
 
 The reception of guests under his roof would be less one 
 rous and far more agreeable than furnishing entertainments of 
 her own. Mabel, being but a school-girl, must be properly 
 introduced into society, and who could be so capable as herself 
 of superintending the festivities attendant upon her entrance 
 into city life? What, indeed, was to prevent the rooms of her 
 wealthy parent from becoming the scene of all those fashion- 
 ble and social gatherings, over which Louise felt herself well 
 fitted to preside ? 
 
 Certainly not any opposition on her father's part, for Mr. 
 Vaughan, while he dreaded to see Mabel become a mere fine 
 lady, or Harry an idle fop, was, nevertheless, too easy tem 
 pered and yielding to oppose any schemes which would tend 
 to his children's gratification and happiness, and, in matters of 
 expense, it was neither his nature nor habit to place restric 
 tions upon the extravagance of his family, certainly not any 
 want of energy on the part of Mrs. Leroy, whose capacities 
 were never so thoroughly called out as on an occasion like the 
 present, when she was actuated by the threefold motive of 
 establishing her young relative in the gay world, promoting 
 her own enjoyment, and strengthening her influence in her 
 father's house. 
 
 Nor was she destined to disappointment. It was the uni 
 versal voice among the leaders of fashion, that nothing could 
 be in better taste than Mr. Vaughan's house and equipage, 
 nothing more successful than the grand reception, held in 
 honour of Mabel and gracefully conducted by Louise, nothing 
 more certain than the fact, that the former would rank as the 
 unrivalled belle of the season, and the latter continue one of 
 its choicest ornaments. 
 
 Thus, borne on the tide of happy fortunes, and launched 
 into gay life under the most flattering auspices, our young 
 school-girl achieved, almost without conscious effort, the 
 position to which nature and circumstances seemed to destine 
 her. 
 
 * Let me see !' exclaimed Harry, one morning, looking up 
 from a daily journal and glancing mischievously at Mabel, ' it 
 is a week to-day since your arrival in this great city, yes, 
 just a week,' added he, ' and my prediction fulfilled already !' 
 
 'What prediction?' asked Miss Sabiah, lifting her eyes 
 
44 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 from an intricate piece of knitting-work and fixing them some 
 what anxiously upon Harry, who, lounging over a late break 
 fast, was, at the same time, carelessly scanning the morning 
 paper. 
 
 * A piece of shrewd foresight on my part, aunt, which in 
 formed me, that seven days and seven nights only would be 
 required for the transformation of a chrysalis into a butterfly.' 
 
 Aunt Sabiah, to whom Harry's vague and ironical replies 
 were often unintelligible, moved no further inquiry, but looked 
 down at her work, with the vexed and injured expression of 
 one who has failed to obtain a satisfactory answer. 
 
 Mabel, who better understood the allusion, continued to 
 occupy herself with feeding Harry's great dog, holding high 
 above the head of her huge playfellow the dainty bits ahe had 
 taken from the table, and obstinately refusing to meet the eye 
 of her brother, which she knew to be fixed upon her. 
 
 ' Two wedding receptions, and an evening concert, on 
 Tuesday,' reckoned Harry, counting with his fingers ; ' fashion 
 able promenade, opera, and ball, on Wednesday.' 
 
 t Let me disentangle that worsted for you, aunt,' exclaimed 
 Mabel, still feigning inattention, and taking a low seat near 
 Miss Vaughan. 
 
 4 Three magnificent parties on Thursday,' continued Harry, 
 4 and the grand ball of the season on Friday ! Well clone, 
 Mabel ! well done ! I said one week would make a fine lady 
 of you ; what a pity I did n't take a bet on it !' 
 
 ' I deny the charge,' said Mabel, warmly ; * it isn't true, is 
 it, Tartar ?' and she patted the head of the dog ; ' fine ladies 
 don't play with great dogs, nor understand the mysteries of 
 knitting- work either,' and, as she spoke, she drew the needles 
 from the entangled worsted, unravelled a piece of the work, 
 and began patiently to take up the stitches. 
 
 ' Ah ! but I have the proof,' said Harry, triumphantly, rising 
 from the table ; i here we have it in black and white, and what 
 the newspaper says must be true,' and he laid before her the 
 paragraph in question. 
 
 It was a description of last night's brilliant ball, and among 
 the noted beauties of the evening, Mabel's name stood first. 
 As she read the flattering description of her own personal and 
 mental charms, an indignant flush overspread her face.* ' An 
 
 * This reference to a paragraph in a newspaper, which " gives a 
 flattering description of the personal and mental charms " of a'young 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 45 
 
 impertinent paragraph like that proves nothing 1 !' exclaimed 
 she, with spirit. 
 
 ' It merely affixes a seal to the fact/ rejoined Harry, ' that 
 our school-girl of a week ago has ripened into the woman of 
 fashion,' and he pointed to the heading of the article, ' Our 
 Fashionable World.' 
 
 4 Then you meant Mabel,' said Miss Sabiah, sharply, ' when 
 you talked about the chrysalis and the butterfly. A mighty 
 civil speech, I must say. You may think it a compliment to 
 call her a butterfly now, but I've never seen the time yet when 
 she deserved the name of a chrysalis, an ugly chrysalis. For 
 my part I liked her quite as well last week as this. I expect 
 you will spoil her among you/ muttered she in an under tone. 
 
 ' Why, Aunt Sabiah/ said Harry, with animation, and in a 
 voice whose irony was lost upon Miss Sabiah, ' you don't mean 
 so ! Do you really pretend to say that you were as fond and 
 as proud of Mabel, when she was fresh from Mrs. Herbert's, 
 as now that she has the dress, the polish, and the homage of a 
 city ? She was a very good girl, and one of the family, and 
 of course, we felt a regard for her. But just think what she 
 is now. The belle of the metropolis, the queen of fashion, 
 with dozens of brainless coxcombs at her beck and call, and 
 hundreds of intimate friends, who live upon her smiles ! Think 
 what a transformation, what a victory !' 
 
 ' Don't be so absurd, Harry/ interrupted Mabel, amused 
 herself, but dreading- lest her aunt should take her brother in 
 earnest, or worse still, be offended at his playful sarcasms ; 
 ' we butterflies, for you are one no less than myself, will fold 
 our wings for awhile ; this promises to be my first rainy day 
 in New York, and we will have a charming sociable time at 
 home, to make amends for a week's gaiety.' 
 
 k A rainy day !' cried Harry, walking to the window, and 
 looking anxiously at the clouds ; ' no, I hope not, our Jersey 
 excursion is to come off this afternoon, and fine weather is in 
 dispensable ! but, Mabel, how does it happen that you are 
 disengaged ? where is the arch-enemy ?' 
 
 ' How should I know what you mean, Harry ? What strange 
 titles you do bestow on people !' 
 
 ' No more than is deserved in this instance. Who is the 
 chief enemy of our domestic peace, the ringleader in all these 
 
 lady, marks a considerable difference between the nature of American 
 aud English compliments. 
 
46 MABEL VAUGIIAN. 
 
 fashionable plots, despoiling us of your society, and inflicting 
 upon us her own at will ? If you can't guess who I mean, my 
 aunt can. She is no more friendly to the Vannecker influence 
 than I am.' 
 
 1 O, Harry,' said Mabel, laughing, i how ungrateful, when 
 Mrs. Vannecker and Victoria both admire you so much!' 
 Harry shrugged his shoulders. ' You are safe for to-day,' 
 continued Mabel ; l Mrs. Vannecker and Louise are going to 
 make visits, at some distance out of town ; happily I am oif 
 duty. What a pity you are engaged on that excursion party ; 
 we might have commenced studying our German !' 
 
 * Hear her !' exclaimed Harry, with mock gravity, ' the 
 devoted and ardent student, only debarred from indulging her 
 intellectual tastes by the unavoidable absence of her tutor !' 
 
 * Indeed, Harry!' replied Mabel, ' I assure you I have 
 looked at those books again and again, with longing eyes ; but 
 I can't find a moment's time for anything but what Mrs. Van 
 necker calls the claims of society.' 
 
 4 Oh, hang Mrs. Vannecker !' retorted Harry, warmly. 
 
 ' And her accomplices, too ?' questioned Mabel, archly. 
 
 ' No, spare the innocent,' said Harry, yawning ; ' give our 
 soft-headed Louise the privileges of youth, and a chance under 
 another leader ; by the way, what a languishing little piece of 
 nonsense ' then, meeting Mabel's astonished and reproachful 
 glance, he hesitated, laughed, and interrupted himself with, 
 ' Oh, she's our sister, isn't she? mum's the word.' 
 
 The quick and emphatic nodding of Miss Sabiah's head 
 manifested her approval of Harry's half-uttered sentiments, 
 and it was with something like animation that she said, in a 
 partial soliloquy, ' So, at last, we are going to have a quiet 
 day !' 
 
 i Yes,' responded Mabel. c It will be a fine chance for mo 
 to read those old letters of Grandmamma Vaughan's, and to pin 
 up the bows for your new cap. We'll have luncheon up stairs, 
 aunt, and not come down until dinner-time. 
 
 Miss Sabiah's face lighted up with unmistakable satisfaction 
 at this proposition, but became proportionably overshadowed 
 with disappointment when, a moment after, the impulsive 
 Mabel exclaimed to her brother, ' Harry, I have a great mind ' 
 
 ' Well,' replied he, stepping into the hall and returning with 
 his overcoat on his arm, ' we know you have a great mind, 
 what does it suggest ?' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAK 47 
 
 c That I should walk down town with you as far as 
 
 Hotel.' 
 
 Harry lifted his eyebrows expressively, saying, e But I 
 thought my lady Finery had driven six miles out of town. 3 
 
 ( I know it,' said Mabel ; i but I want so much to see the 
 children, and they would be at home this morning.' 
 
 ; Very well,' said Harry, ' I am going directly past the 
 hotel, and shall be charmed with your company ; but it may 
 rain ; why not take the carriage ?' 
 
 ( Louise has our carriage.' 
 
 1 Our carriage !' exclaimed he, in a half-provoked tone ; 
 4 there's a plot for you ! what has become of her own ?' 
 
 1 One of Mr. Leroy's horses is lame, and he has sent them 
 both into the country for the winter.' 
 
 Harry whistled expressively, and Mabel, with unfeigned 
 alacrity, declared a preference for walking ; she was not at all 
 afraid of the rain was accustomed to brave all sorts of weather, 
 and did not choose to become a hot-house plant. 
 
 6 I hope you'll be paid for your trouble,' said Miss Sabiah, 
 in a tone of characterestic tartness ; ' it '11 be some time before 
 I put myself in the way of those children again.' 
 
 4 How so, aunt?' questioned Harry in a tone of lively in 
 terest. Harry took a mischievous pleasure in encouraging 
 Sabiah's occasional outbursts of antipathy and pique. 
 
 Mabel, who was just leaving the room to prepare for her 
 walk, did not hear her aunt's reply, but on returning, equipped 
 for the excursion, she found Harry convulsed with half-sup 
 pressed laughter, and was greeted with the exclamation on his 
 part, 
 
 ' Ah, Mabel, you are prepared for an encounter with wild 
 beasts, I hope; according to good authority you are going to 
 face a monkey and a bear this morning : both are dangerous, 
 but one is open and frequent in his mischievous attacks, while 
 the other sucks his claws and meditates deeper injury ; that is 
 a fair state of the case, as proved by melancholy experience ;' 
 and again Harry laughed immoderately. 
 
 Miss Sabiah's face wore the half-vexed, half-puzzled expres 
 sion which was invariably called up by Harry's raillery, and 
 Mabel, who was always a little apprehensive when he thus 
 ventured to sharpen his wit on the flat surface of her aunt's 
 obtuseness, hurried him away, playfully remarking, that thus 
 warned, she should certainly be on her guard. 
 
48 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 Miss Sabiah gathered up her work, and, with the customary 
 cloud on her countenance, was proceeding- up stairs to the 
 retirement of her own room, when Mabel paused at the hall- 
 door to assure her that she should soon return, and while in 
 Broadway would avail herself of the opportunity to purchase 
 a few yards of ribbon, which would be required for the cap she 
 proposed to trim. 
 
 Miss Sabiah looked gratified at Mabel's thoughtfulness. arid 
 the latter good-naturedly waited, while her aunt counted out 
 from an old-fashioned purse, the precise sum required for the 
 purchase, and gave the most minute instructions concerning 
 the quantity and quality of the article, Harry, meantime, 
 impatiently shaking the door-lock with his hand. 
 
 1 So, you have not seen these wonderful boys yet ?' said 
 Harry to Mabel, as they walked down the street. 
 
 Mabel recounted several disappointments she had experi 
 enced, with regard to seeing her little nephews, and declared 
 herself quite excited with curiosity and interest concerning 
 them. 
 
 1 They must have made a riotous invasion into Aunt Sabiali's 
 room yesterday,' said Harry, again giving way to merriment, 
 as he recalled Miss Vaughan's description of the scene. ' She's 
 down on them this morning. She's too hard upon that little 
 Murray, though ; he's a splendid fellow the other, to be sure, 
 has rather a hang-dog look.' 
 
 Some passing object here diverted Harry's attention, and, 
 amid various subjects of conversation and interest, the youthful 
 couple ceased to speak or even think of their young relatives. 
 
 Indeed, Mabel's girlish spirits were so elated by the keen 
 morning air, and the lively sallies of Harry, that in the plea 
 sure of the walk she half forgot its object, and was fairly taken 
 by surprise when she found herself at the entrance of the hotel, 
 and her companion pausing to bid her good-morning. Exer 
 cise had imparted a more than wonted glow to her cheeks, and 
 her face wore its most beaming expression, as, standing for a 
 moment with her hand in Harry's, she gaily urged him to re 
 turn home in season to make one of their family circle in the 
 evening. He readily promised to do so, and as she disappeared 
 within the doorway, the affectionate glance which followed her 
 for an instant, bespoke a marked degree of brotherly tender 
 ness and pride. 
 
 * Have you turned astronomer, Vaughan ?' asked a well- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 49 
 
 known voice, close at his side, ' you appear to be watching the 
 disappearance of a star of the first magnitude.' 
 
 ' Dudley, my dear fellow !' was Harry's quick and ea^er 
 exclamation., and in the cordial greeting which followed, the 
 latter paid no heed to his friend's first inquiry. Having satis 
 fied Harry's astonishment with regard to his sudden arrival, 
 Dudley again glanced in the direction in which Mabel had 
 disappeared, and asked, with evident interest, ( Who is yonder 
 brilliant constellation ?' 
 
 ' A new arrival, almost a stranger in the city,' answered 
 Harry, with feigned indifference ; * you will soon see her, I 
 have no doubt, moving in her orbit/ 
 
 1 Not I,' responded Dudley, carelessly ; ' I start for Wash 
 ington this afternoon, and there is no knowing when I shall 
 return.' 
 
 Harry felt disappointed, for he was really impatient to in 
 troduce his friend to Mabel. 
 
 4 1 have half-an-hour to spare,' said Dudley, looking at his 
 watch, ' and a hundred things to say to you, Vaughan,' and 
 putting his arm within Harry's, he accompanied him down 
 Broadway. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Oh, -when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd ! 
 She was a vixen when she went to school, 
 And though she be but little, she is fierce. 
 
 SHAKSFEARE. 
 
 As Mabel, after parting with Harry, ascended the wide 
 staircase leading in the direction of her sister's rooms, she 
 heard a loud noise, as if some one were striking the floor above 
 with a heavy stick. In a moment more a little figure appeared 
 in sight, riding upon a stout cane. He was galloping, in imita 
 tion of the motions of a horse, and at every step the cane 
 rattled upon the floor behind him. At the same time he was 
 shouting to the imaginary steed in a voice that at least bespoke 
 healthy lungs. He was a beautiful child, with long curls of 
 fair hair hanging upon his shoulders, and his dress, though 
 disordered, arid somewhat slovenly, was gay and fanciful in 
 the extreme. That he was wholly unmanageable, was evident 
 from the fact that he paid no attention to the voice of a young, 
 tired-looking girl, who was following and vainly calling upon 
 him to stop. Just as Mabel reached the top of the staircase, 
 the girl overtook the child, and attempted, with a restraining 
 arm, to check him in his course. At this moment, and when 
 the long passage-way was ringing with the sudden and violent 
 cries of the now angry and excited boy, a door opened from a 
 neighbouring room, and a gentleman exclaimed, in a severe 
 tone, ' Really, if you cannot keep that child still, I must com 
 plain to the landlord, my wife is very ill, and that boy has 
 been troubling us all the morning.' The poor girl looked in 
 despair, especially as the little horseman had, in the mean 
 time, escaped from her grasp, and was continuing his sport, 
 regardless of the impatient voice and threatening manner in 
 which the gentleman now called to him in the words ' Stop, 
 sir!' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN, 51 
 
 In the meantime, Mabel, half-smiling at the scene, kept on 
 her way towards her sister's apartments, which were in an 
 opposite direction, and passing- the spacious parlour and bed 
 room, paused at the door of a chamber beyond, which she 
 knew to be used as a nursery. She knocked slightly, but 
 perceiving at the same moment that the door was ajar, opened 
 it and went in. Directly opposite to her, seated at a high 
 table, and with his feet dangling from his chair, was one of 
 the young gentlemen whom she had come to seek. He could 
 not have been more than eight years of age, but as he sat 
 with his forehead resting on both hands, and his eyes fixed 
 upon a book, there was in his stooping attitude, and the grave, 
 fixed expression of his face, something which it was painful 
 and unnatural to witness in so young a child. There was 
 but little life or animation in his features ; his complexion 
 was dark and sallow, and his thin fingers were thrust through 
 his long hair in such a manner that it fell over them, in dis 
 tinct and heavy locks, shadowing and nearly concealing his 
 otherwise high and open brow. He did not move or change 
 his position as Mabel entered, but glancing at her from 
 beneath his hand, with a wholly indifferent air, said, abruptly, 
 * Mother's gcine out ;' and then kept on with his reading. 
 
 Before Mabel had time to reply, she was roughly thrust 
 aside by the same little urchin whom she had seen in the entry, 
 and who now rushed by her into the room, still riding on the 
 stick, with which he made the circuit of the apartment two or 
 three times, drawing in his chin, and opening and shutting his 
 mouth, as if in the act of champing a bit. At length, as he 
 drew near the table of the young student, who had not hitherto 
 bestowed on him the least notice, he commenced a series of 
 caracoles, and then, bobbing his head, as if irritated by the 
 pressure of a tight rein, contrived to hit the book, which had 
 been propped in an upright position on the table, and succeeded 
 in throwing it on the floor. His brother, for both were in 
 truth Mrs. Leroy's children, received this bit of pleasantry 
 with a glow of sullen anger, and stretching forth his foot from 
 beneath the table, bestowed a sudden kick on the unruly author 
 of the mischief. Mabel, still standing near the door, was an 
 attentive witness of the whole proceeding. Alick, the bestower 
 of the reprimand, perfectly aware that he was observed, cast 
 upon her a half-mortified, half-defiant look, which seemed to 
 say, f You saw ! I don't care if you did ;' and then stooping 
 
 E2 
 
52 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 down, he picked up his book and replaced it in precisely the 
 same position which it had occupied before. 
 
 He appeared, meanwhile, quite indifferent to the cries of the 
 younger child, who, although in reality but little hurt by his 
 brother's blow, had thrown himself upon the floor, and was 
 screaming and sobbing with all his might. 
 
 Shocked at Alick's rudenesss, and repelled by the sullen ex 
 pression of his face, Mabel's sympathies were now wholly with 
 the younger boy, who, in spite of his wilful and riotous be 
 haviour, seemed the more amiable of the two. She took him, 
 therefore, upon her knee, soothed his cries, and, with the view 
 of relieving the astonishment of the children's attendant, who 
 looked at her with surprise, made haste to announce her re 
 lationship. As she said, ' I am your Aunt Mabel,' Alick 
 looked up quickly from his book, gave her an earnest and 
 searching glance, and then looked down as before. Murray, 
 however, the other, appeared careless and unconcerned on 
 this point ; but submitted to her caresses, allowed himself to be 
 comforted, and upon being permitted to search her pockets for 
 the confectionary which which she informed him was to be 
 found there, quite forgot his past injuries, and became sun 
 shiny and good-humoured. 
 
 Mabel could not win from him, however, any recognition 
 of her claims upon his love. He received her attentions and 
 favours as part of the homage due to a petted child, but shook 
 his head \vhen she asked him if he did not remember the many 
 kisses Aunt Mabel had sent him in her letters to mamma, and 
 the pretty toys which came in a box at Christmas. Convinced 
 by his manner, that her name awakened no emotion of inte 
 rest in the boy, and failing to perceive the expression of eager 
 scrutiny with which Alick had for an instant regarded her, she 
 felt a momentary pang of disappointment, in the thought that 
 the children she had been so impatient to see, looked upon her 
 as a stranger. But her loving nature would not permit her to 
 be easily repulsed, and she resolved that, since if rested wholly 
 with herself to awaken the affection of her little nephews, no 
 pains should be wanting on her part. So she exerted herself 
 most sedulously for the entertainment of the younger boy, at 
 the same time endeavouring to excite the attention of his silent 
 brother. During the half hour that Murray sat upon her 
 knee, the increasing interest with which he gazed into the face 
 of his beautiful young relative, and the eagerness with which 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 53 
 
 lie listened to her playful and lively words, were sufficient evi 
 dence of the success which seldom failed to attend her efforts 
 to engage the ear and win the heart of childhood. She more 
 than once turned from him to address a remark to Alick, but 
 he either gave her no reply, or answered in such a sulky tone, 
 that she was at length deterred from any attempt to become 
 better acquainted with him. 
 
 In the meantime, there was still another in the room who, 
 although unnoticed herself, watched Mabel with no small 
 degree of admiration and curiosity. This was the young girl 
 who had the charge of the children, and whose weary-looking 
 face had excited Mabel's compassion as she came up the 
 stairs. Hers was indeed a hard task, a task which, under 
 the most favourable circumstances, might have worn upon 
 the strength and spirits of so young a girl, and which was 
 rendered doubly difficult, by reason of her having in Mrs. 
 Leroy's employ several parties to please, any one of which 
 it was impossible to satisfy. Moreover, she had been deli 
 cately brought up, and her present employment was new and 
 irksome to her. 
 
 To have the restless Murray quiet and amused for one half 
 hour, to be spared the necessity of furnishing diversion for 
 him, and to be permitted to sit by and listen to the pleasant 
 words and lively sallies which were no less entertaining to 
 herself than to her little charge, was a pleasure the more 
 keenly appreciated because so rarely enjoyed ; and Mabel 
 little knew with what a smile of satisfaction she was watched 
 by another pair of eyes, beside those which beamed brightly 
 upon her from the face of the child. At length a sudden gust 
 of wind, and heavy rain-drops pattering against the window, 
 gave Mabel the first intimation that the storm which was 
 threatening when she left home, had now commenced with 
 great severity. Imprisoned as she thus was, in the hotel, and 
 fearful lest her aunt would be anxious at her continued 
 absence, she was revolving in her mind the possibility of send 
 ing a messenger to her father's house, when she recognised in 
 the neighbouring passage-way the voice of Mrs. Leroy, and 
 the loud laugh of Mrs. Vannecker. At once conjecturing that 
 the storm had hastened their return, she hurried to meet her 
 sister, in hopes that she might be in season to detain the car 
 riage. But she was too late ; the coachman had already driven 
 off. Louise gaily reproached her, however, for desiring to run. 
 
54 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 away the moment she had reached home. ' To whom, pray, 
 was your visit intended?' asked she. 
 
 * To the children,' replied Mabel. ' I have seen them at 
 last.' 
 
 f And how do you like them ? Isn't rny precious Murray 
 a darling little pet? and as for Alick I hope he was in his 
 usual good-humour ?' 
 
 Her tone was sincere when she spoke of Murray, but she 
 turned to Mrs. Vannecker with a short laugh as she uttered 
 the latter clause, and both the laugh and the tone of her voice 
 betrayed that the remark was made in irony. 
 
 Mabel understood the insinuation ; and, while she wondered 
 that her sister could speak lightly on so grave a matter as the 
 bad temper of her own child, she said to herself, ' I have 
 seen him then in his usual mood ; what a very disagreeable 
 boy he must be !' 
 
 They now bade Mrs. Vannecker good-morning, and Louise 
 led the way to her own apartments, Mabel following her, at 
 the same time requesting that some one might be sent to sum 
 mon the carriage, as, on her aunt's account, she felt the im 
 portance of returning home at once. 
 
 But she found it impossible to resist the pressing and grace 
 ful manner in which Louise insisted that she should stay, at 
 least until after lunch, assuring her that it was the height of 
 folly to make herself such a slave to the whims and fears of 
 the old lady, who, she plainly saw, was disposed to play the 
 tyrant ; and Mabel, too easily yielding to her sister's persua 
 sions, consented to remain. As they entered the drawing-room, 
 Murray came bounding to meet his mother, who took him in 
 her arms, lavished upon him many an endearing and flattering 
 epithet, and throwing herself upon the sofa, in an affected 
 and languishing attitude, permitted the indulged child to 
 trample at will upon her rich dress, and play with the artificial 
 roses that adorned her bonnet. 
 
 As Mabel looked at them, she thought she had never seen 
 a more interesting picture of maternal loveliness and child 
 like beauty; but the scene thus presented was as short-lived as 
 the effect was striking ; for Louise's vanity, both on her own 
 account, and that of her child, being quire satisfied by this 
 little display of tenderness, she could not long restrain the 
 impatience and irritability which rendered such companionship 
 irksome, and after a few moments, the rash and wilful hand 
 
MABEL VAUGHAtf. 55 
 
 of the boy having assailed the delicate lace of her collar, she 
 thrust it hastily aside, and abruptly lifted him from the sofa 
 to the floor. As she did so, he succeeded in snatching- a rich 
 ermine mantle from her shoulders, and retreated to the other 
 end of the room, dragging- the delicate white fur behind him 
 on the carpet. 
 
 Louise, who was expatiating to Mabel upon the attractions 
 of a dramatic performance to take place that evening at the 
 house of one of the leaders of fashion, seemed at first quite 
 unconscious of this feat on the part of the child ; but in a 
 moment more she rose suddenly from her seat, and still con 
 tinuing in an earnest strain of conversation with Mabel, took 
 a few steps towards Murray, who was roughly playing with 
 his prize, and snatching one end of the mantle, which lay 
 stretched upon the carpet, endeavoured to wrest it from his 
 grasp. Her manner was resolute, but the boy was nothing 
 daunted. He clung to his new toy, and by a sudden effort, 
 extricating it from his mother's hands, gathered it in his arms, 
 and escaped to the opposite corner, casting over his shoulder 
 a triumphant glance at his baffled parent. So far from 
 following up the pursuit, however, or uttering a word of re 
 primand, she appeared rather to glory in the rebellious spirit 
 of the child ; her only comment upon the failure of her 
 attempt consisting in a smile of amusement at the success 
 with which he had asserted his independence of control. 
 Nor did the risk of injury to the mantle further engage her 
 thoughts, but, passively yielding to the little conqueror, she 
 resumed her seat, and continued the scarcely interrupted 
 strain of her discourse upon the music, dresses, and decora 
 tions of the evening's entertainment. 
 
 Mabel, while engaging with animation upon the subject of 
 pleasures which had for her all the zest of novelty, scarcely 
 gave a thought to this little contest between parent and child, 
 save as she considered it a proof of that sweet softness, and 
 amiability of character, which forbade Louise to exercise se 
 verity, or exact obedience. As she sat, however, in full view 
 of the child, who was now mounted upon a chair, acting in his 
 favourite capacity of an imaginary horseman, with the long 
 ends of the mantle serving as a bridle, she more than once 
 had her fears excited for the safety both of the boy, and the 
 ermine. A slight start on her part caused Louise, at one 
 time, to turn her head in that direction, but, dreading a 
 
56 MAr.KL YAUGIIAN. 
 
 stormy altercation with the little rebel, she closed her eyes to 
 the possibility of the mischief that might ensue, and, with a 
 languid smile, permitted him to continue his sport. At 
 length, a sudden jerk on Murray's part, and the mantle, 
 which towards the end was narrow and slender, became rent, 
 and gave way, precipitating the child to the floor, the frag 
 ment of the torn fur still grasped tightly in his hand. 
 
 Mabel sprung to his assistance ; for, although his fall was 
 not heavy, or from a great height, he uttered a succession of 
 piercing shrieks, and she feared he might be seriously hurt. 
 Louise started at the same moment, but Mabel had lifted the 
 boy to his feet before his mother reached the spot. The eager 
 question of the former, i Are you hurt, darling ?' was scarcely 
 answered, and he still continued sobbing, when Louise caught 
 sight of the torn fur, which she angrily snatched from his 
 hand. Alas ! now, for that softness of manner of which many 
 beside Mabel had often experienced the charrn ! It vanished 
 in an instant. The subdued voice of Louise was changed to 
 loud tones of reproach ; words of sudden anger took the place 
 of her usual languid accents, and the little hand, so perfect in 
 contour, so graceful in gesture, now gave added force to her 
 words, as she inflicted with it a sudden blow upon Murray's 
 offending palm. But the refractory urchin was no unresisting 
 victim of her displeasure ; he boldly maintained his defence, 
 and Mabel became the witness of a violent and noisy struggle, 
 which ended in Mrs. Leroy's forcibly expelling the child from 
 the room, amid a succession of kicks, screams, and threats, 
 which would, probably, have alarmed the household, had not 
 such outbursts been a matter of almost daily occurrence. 
 Grieved and shocked at the scene, Mabel expected to see her 
 sister still more painfully affected by so unnatural a conflict. 
 But, on the contrary, Louise tnrned to her with a smile, and 
 on observing her half-embarrassed, half-distressed expression, 
 laughed outright. 
 
 4 1 am afraid he is hurt,' suggested Mabel, * he cried so loud 
 when he first fell.' 
 
 ( Oh, no,' answered Louise, in a careless tone, ' he always 
 cries so ;' and she proceeded to the examination of her mantle, 
 fitting the piece in her hand into the place from which it was 
 torn, and saying ' What a shame ! I wonder if I can get it 
 mended at Lefarge's ?' 
 
 So intent was she in considering the best mode of repairing- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 57 
 
 the damage, that for several minutes she took no notice of 
 Mabel, who gradually recovered from her surprise at the 
 contradictions in her sister's temper, especially as she found 
 that this little outbreak of maternal indignation exercised no 
 lasting check upon the merriment of the child, whom she 
 soon heard in the neighbouring nursery, engaged in happy 
 play. 
 
 Two or three hours had elapsed, the season of lunch was 
 long passed, and Mabel's conscience beginning once more to 
 reproach her for this continued stay, she had persuaded Louise 
 to send for the carriage. It had not yet arrived, and she was 
 somewhat impatiently awaiting it, when a loud cry was raised 
 in the nursery, and a moment after, Murray came screaming 
 into the room, evidently in some new distress, and, quite 
 forgetful of past difficulties, running to his mother for 
 sympathy. She opened her arms to receive him, begged to 
 know what was the matter with her sweet pet, and witJi many 
 tender and exaggerated expressions of solicitude, promised 
 that whoever had harmed him should be punished. 
 
 Alick had harmed him, had pushed and kicked him, and 
 both he and Lydia had called him ugly names. 
 
 f I called him no ugly names,' exclaimed the tired-looking 
 young nurse, appearing at the door, her face, at first pale, be 
 coming quite red as she observed the presence of Mabel. 
 
 * Be quiet !' said Mrs. Leroy, in an imperative voice to the 
 girl ; and going to the open door of the nursery, she demanded 
 of Alick, in a severe tone, what new injury he had been doing 
 his brother, adding, in the same breath, ' I know you are 
 always rude to him.' 
 
 4 Pie's rude to me,' was the boy's surly reply. 
 
 His mother, unsparing of words and threats, continued to 
 reprove him, but he made no further apology, receiving her 
 rebukes with indifference, not to say inattention, and deigning 
 no answers to her inquiries into his behaviour. He found an 
 advocate, however, in Lydia, who commenced at once, 'Alick 
 was not to blame, Mrs. Leroy, ' 
 
 ' You need not tell me that, Lydia,' replied her mistress ; 
 ' I know who is always to blame in these quarrels.' 
 
 ' He called me names,' muttered Murray, ' he did. He said 
 I was a beggar !' 
 
 ' I didn't !' retorted Alick, speaking bluntly, and between 
 his teeth. 
 
58 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 ' No, ma'am,' exclaimed Lydia, earnestly. ' I was telling 
 them what a good little sister I had at home ; Alick said he 
 should like to see her, ma'am, and I promised to take him 
 there, if you had no objections. It was Murray himself who 
 spoke of beggars. I'm sure Rosy is no beggar, and if my 
 mother isn't rich, she is very respectable/ 
 
 ' I said I didn't want to go and see any beggar girls, and no 
 I don't !' said Murray, 4 and then Alick said I wasn't any 
 better than a beggar myself. I am, ain't I, mother ?' 
 
 ' Certainly, my dear. Alick you are a bad boy to talk so 
 to your brother, and, Lydia, don't let me hear any more of 
 this. Of course, you are not to take either of the boys to any 
 low places. The children you are used to may be good chil 
 dren, and they may not, but, at all events, they are not fit 
 company for my children.' 
 
 ' Indeed, Mrs. Leroy,' exclaimed Lydia, her face becoming 
 suffused with the deepest crimson, her eye flashing angrily, 
 but the trembling of her lip at the same time, giving evidence 
 of an emotion deeper than wounded pride, 'indeed, ma'am, 
 I only wish you could see such children as I am used to ; 
 there's some among 'em that might teach a lesson even to a 
 lady.' 
 
 If there was incivility in this remark from a young girl to 
 her mistress, it was almost lost sight of by Mabel, who was 
 struck by the deep earnestness and feeling with which it was 
 spoken. Not so with Louise. She viewed the girl's words 
 merely as an outbreak of impertinence, and passed judgment 
 upon them accordingly. It would have been well for her 
 dignity, if she could have so far commanded >her temper as to 
 speak Lydia's dismissal with calmness. But this was not the 
 case. In the violent and abusive language with which she 
 assailed her for forgetfulness of place, and neglect of the 
 respect due to her superiors, she more than forfeited her own 
 position as a lady ; nor could Mabel feel otherwise than shocked 
 at the harshness with which she assured the poor girl that she 
 had forfeited her month's wages, at the same time forbidding 
 her to leave her service until a new nurse was provided. 
 
 It was some consolation to perceive that these fits of temper 
 were as transient as they were severe. As Louise closed 
 the nursery door upon Lydia, she seemed to exhaust her dis 
 pleasure in the words, ' There, I have done with her ; now 
 I shall have the trouble of finding another nurse for those 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 59 
 
 children, little plagues;' and the next moment she ad 
 dressed some light remark to Mabel on the subject of her 
 dress for the approaching evening, adding, ' I will go this 
 minute and borrow Mrs. Vannecker's ear-rings, to try if coral 
 is becoming to me !' 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Not every flower that blossoms 
 
 Diffuses sweets around ; 
 Not every scene hope gilds with light 
 
 Will fair be found. 
 
 MRS. S. J. HALE. 
 
 ENGROSSED with this new scheme for the indulgence of her 
 vanity, Louise hastened at once to her friend's apartment, and 
 lingered there so long, that before her return the carriage 
 came for Mabel, who could not find her scarf, and supposing 
 that she must have left it in the nursery was compelled to go 
 there and seek it. As she opened the door unheard, and stood 
 unperceived in the room, a sight met her eyes which excited 
 both her sympathy and her interest. Poor Lydia, overcome 
 with grief, had thrown herself upon the narrow bed usually 
 occupied by one of the children, and so vehement were the 
 sobs she uttered, that they shook her whole frame convulsively. 
 Her eyes were fixed and vacant, and there was an hysterical 
 gasping in her throat, which frightened Mabel, lest the girl 
 might be choking with an emotion which she evidently could 
 not control. Alick was standing beside her, his face no 
 longer apathetic and indifferent, but expressive both of sorrow 
 and indignation. He seemed to be making an endeavour to 
 soothe her, and as Mabel entered the room she heard him 
 say, ' I shouldn't care for her, Lydia, she's a cross old 
 thing.' At first Murray was nowhere to be seen ; but on 
 taking a nearer view, Mabel perceived the little fellow, who, 
 really affectionate in his disposition and truly grieved at his 
 own share in causing Lydia's distress, had crept upon the bed, 
 and was nestled close beside her, with one arm round her neck. 
 At the sound of Mabel's voice speaking kindly to her, Lydia 
 gave a sudden start, and the presence of a stranger seeming 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 61 
 
 to act as a powerful motive for self-control, she succeeded in 
 somewhat mastering her agitation. Mabel took a glass of 
 water from the table and sprinkled a little of it on her face, 
 as she had seen Mrs. Herbert do on a similar occasion. The 
 shock acted as a, restorative, and after a few more gasps the 
 excited girl found relief in natural and fast-flowing tears. 
 
 Mabel, although a stranger to such emergencies, spoke a 
 few words of comfort to her, which drew forth in return an 
 expression of poor Lydia's overcharged feelings. 4 Indeed, 
 miss,' she sobbed forth, * I meant no harm, but I felt so bad 
 at what she said about the children, you wouldn't wonder if 
 you knew ' here her words were lost in tears, but she soon 
 recovered herself, and added, ' So now I've lost my place, 
 and I don't know what I shall do/ 
 
 4 I'll ask mother to keep you,' said Murray, in a soothing 
 tone. 
 
 Lydia smiled upon the wayward child, but said nothing. 
 Alick, in the meantime, stood a little in the background, 
 gazirig in the face of Mabel, who looked concerned for the 
 girl, but uncertain what part to take in the matter herself. 
 As, after a few moments' pause, she turned to leave the room, 
 she was arrested by Alick, who exclaimed, as if in further 
 explanation of Lydia's conduct, ' She can't get her money 
 now, and it's too bad ; she wanted it for her mother and Rosy. 
 Mother said she wouldn't pay her, and she won't, she's just 
 so cross.' 
 
 Mabel's countenance evinced how much she was shocked 
 by the boy's urifilial language, but he did not perceive this ; 
 his eyes were following the hand with which she now sought 
 her "purse. Poor Lydia, in the meantime, was the picture of 
 mortification and distress. Words of bitter disappointment on 
 her part, had betrayed to the observing Alick the secret of 
 her family's necessity, but despite her dependent situation, 
 she had a sensitive pride which shrank from Mabel's becoming 
 a partner to this knowledge. 
 
 Mabel, scarcely less disconcerted, for she was a novice in 
 such circumstances, inquired the amount due her for the ser 
 vices which were now at an end. 
 
 * Six dollars,' said Lydia, in a faltering voice ; c but, O 
 miss, it's no matter.' 
 
 The sum was in her hand before she had finished speaking. 
 ' Never mind,' said Mabel, soothingly, and putting aside the 
 
62 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 hand which offered to return the money ; ' keep it do, and 
 I will arrange the matter with Mrs. Leroy some other 
 time/ 
 
 Then, anxious to escape the half-audible thanks of Lydia, 
 she hastily left the room, followed by the wondering-, admiring 
 gaze of Alick. Murray manifesting his satisfaction in an 
 equally characteristic manner, by attempting to turn a somer 
 set on the bed. 
 
 A quick blush of surprise and embarrassment overspread 
 her face, as, on re-entering the drawing-room, she discovered 
 Louise standing near the half-open door of the nursery, where 
 she must have plainly overheard all that had passed within. 
 She was trying the effect of the coral ear-rings at an opposite 
 mirror, and did not even turn her head, on Mabel's sudden 
 entrance. Had the latter been detected in a mean, instead of 
 a generous action, she could scarcely have been more discon 
 certed than she now felt, at the consciousness of having plaved 
 what her sister might consider an officious and censorious part 
 in a matter with which she had no immediate concern. There 
 was an awkward silence between them, interrupted at length 
 by Louise, who, after impatiently jerking one of the ear-rings, 
 and finally entangling it in her hair, exclaimed in an imperious 
 arid ruffled tone of voice, 'Do, Mabel, see what is the matter 
 with this ; I can't do anything with it !' 
 
 Mabel hastened to extricate and clasp the refractory orna 
 ment, and then stood by the side of the irritable little beauty, 
 who, after surveying herself for a moment with no slight 
 degree of satisfaction, exclaimed, i How pretty they are ! I 
 wish they were mine ! If I had money to throw away,' con 
 tinued she, in a meaning tone, ( as some people have, I would 
 buy a pair this very day.' 
 
 ' Yes, they are quite pretty and becoming/ said Mabel, with 
 an absent air. She understood her sister's allusion, and fear 
 ing she had given deep offence, was meditating an excuse for 
 her own presumption on the score of poor Lydia's necessities. 
 
 4 1 hope,' added Louise, tartly, and with a short, con 
 temptuous laugh, ' that you do not mean to charge me \\iih 
 all that wastefulness you have been guilty of in the next 
 room ; your purse must be longer than mine if you can afford 
 to pay people for putting on airs and getting up scenes.' 
 . Mabel, astonished at her sister's meanness and indifference 
 to distress, was at a loss for a reply to this unexpected out- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 63 
 
 burst ; but Louise, having- thus given vent to her vexation, 
 and at the same time disowned a debt which she never in 
 tended to discharge, seemed to be immediately restored to 
 good humour, and dismissing the subject with the same ease 
 with which a child forgets its little annoyance at the sight of 
 a new toy, she entered with flippant and eager gaiety upon 
 the subject of the evening's'entertainment. 
 
 Mabel could not so easily free herself from the agitation 
 and embarrassment to which her sister's words and her own 
 awkward situation had given rise ; but, relieved to find the 
 affair amicably settled, although at the expense both of her 
 purse and her feelings, she lent a ready ear to all the theatri 
 cal details which Mrs. Leroy had gleaned from Mrs. Van- 
 necker, and from Victoria, who was to take part in the per 
 formance. It would be a charming occasion, but it was on 
 Mabel's account, chiefly, that Mrs. Leroy professed to con 
 gratulate herself at the opportunity ; it would be something 
 so new to her, and so interesting. Harry, too, would be de 
 lighted to escort them. 
 
 Mabel hesitated. She was strongly tempted by her sister's 
 glowing description of the exciting scene they should witness, 
 the lovely little theatre, its decorations, etc. ; but at the mention 
 of Harry's name, she remembered the understanding between 
 herself and her brother, that they were to have a quiet even 
 ing at home. She mentioned this circumstance to Louise as a 
 motive for relinquishing the project, and once more the good- 
 humoured smile vanished from the face of the latter, who, 
 resuming, as it were, her previous right to be angry with 
 Mabel, turned coldly away, saying in an offended tone, ' Very 
 well, I shall stay at home then, of course ; I have no wish 
 to go alone.' 
 
 Mabel's countenance betrayed signs of indecision at sight 
 of Louise's disappointment and displeasure. She had already 
 given offence once this morning ; she could not bear to be 
 thought censorious or disobliging; but what would Harry 
 think of the proposal ? , 
 
 Reflections of this and a similar nature were interrupted by 
 a fretful expostulation from Louise, who, comprehending her 
 chief cause of hesitation, exclaimed, ' It is nonsense to think of 
 staying at home on Harry's account, for I will venture to say, 
 he is full of the idea himself before this time. Several of his 
 friends are among the dramatis personce ; he will hear of the 
 
64 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 performance in the course of the day, and be quite enthusiastic 
 on the subject. 
 
 This last suggestion had the effect of overruling Mabel's 
 scruples, and just as she was on the point of departure she 
 yielded a reluctant promise to send the carriage to the hotel, 
 and be herself in readiness at an appointed hour, for which 
 obliging concession she was rewarded by a radiant smile, and 
 affectionate pressure of the hand, from the conciliated and 
 satisfied Louise. 
 
 But though Louise was satisfied, the case was far otherwise 
 with Mabel ; and the shadow which, during the homeward 
 drive, clouded her usually happy features, had its rise in many 
 contending, contradictory, but alike painful emotions. 
 
 A young girl of eighteen, of a happy temperament, impulsive 
 character, and warm affections, is not likely to prove a strict or 
 severe judge of those faults and foibles which are concealed or 
 atoned for by a pleasing and fascinating exterior ; but Mabel, 
 with all the romance, sensibility, and ardent imagination of 
 girlhood, had a deep and steady love of justice, an unsophisti 
 cated sense of right, and an honest contempt for meanness and 
 duplicity. She could not be blind or indifferent to those unex 
 pected traits in her sister's character, which the events of the 
 morning had brought to light, and in proportion as fancy had 
 hitherto invested Louise with mental and moral loveliness, did 
 she shrink from the reality disclosed on a nearer view. The 
 emotions awakened in Mabel's mind, however, were somewhat 
 indistinct and undefined, and she did not even attempt to ana 
 lyze them. She felt, but did not reason, and the rambling 
 nature of her reflections resulted only in a general sense of 
 dissatisfaction and disappointment. 
 
 The succession of vague doubts, regrets, and apprehensions, 
 which chased each other through her mind, was suddenly put 
 to flight as the carriage stopped at her father's door, and a 
 more immediate and pressing cause of anxiety forced itself 
 upon her recollection. 'What will Aunt Sabiah say to my 
 long absence ?' was her mental inquiry as she entered the 
 house. The hall" clock struck four as she passed up the stair 
 case. ' So late !' was her inward exclamation ; ' is it, possible ?' 
 And then came the still more startling remembrance, that 
 she had returned without the promised bit of ribbon. Truly, 
 thought she, this is one of the days when everything goes 
 wrong. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 65 
 
 Everything had certainly gone wrong thus far. Miss Sabiah 
 had passed a lonely, cheerless day, and was proportionately 
 depressed. With martyr-like spirit she had declined taking 
 luncheon, a meal of no slight importance to one of her country 
 habits, and it was with difficulty that she could be persuaded 
 that it was not yet too late for a biscuit and a cup of chocolate, 
 which Mabel brought with her own hands from the dining- 
 room ; she declared that Mabel's forgetfulriess to purchase the 
 ribbon was of no consequence, O, no, not the least : what 
 consequence could it be whether she wore a new cap or an old 
 one? 
 
 From this hopeless state of despondency it would have been 
 in vain for any one but Mabel to attempt to arouse her ; but 
 in the partial eyes of the aunt the favourite niece was never 
 the chief delinquent ; and after inveighing at intervals against 
 Louise's growing influence over her sister, and declaring her 
 self quite resigned to the loss of Mabel's future society, Miss 
 Sabiah allowed herself to be cheered and comforted by listen 
 ing to the contents of a bundle of old letters, which Mabel read 
 aloud until dark, manifesting a degree of girlish interest in the 
 musty heap of ancestral details which truly warmed the heart 
 of her maiden aunt. 
 
 Both then and afterwards, Mabel carefully avoided all refer 
 ence to her visit at the hotel, unwilling to excite her aunt's 
 prejudices by relating the stormy occurrences of the morning, 
 and Miss Sabiah, on her part, scorned to make any inquiries 
 concerning Louise and her mode of life, subjects on which she 
 professed perfect indifference. 
 
 But the perplexities and annoyances of this unfortunate day 
 were not yet at an end. At dinner, Mabel waited in vain in 
 the hope that Harry, who had returned home from his excur 
 sion-party, fatigued, but in high spirits, would broach the sub 
 ject of the theatricals ; he remained provokingly silent on the 
 subject, however, and when, after dinner, he called for his 
 slippers, and proposed going for his flute to accompany her 
 on the piano, she was reluctantly compelled to confess the 
 promise she had made to Louise, explaining at the same time 
 her own reluctance to accede to the proposal, until over-per 
 suaded by her sister's confident assurance that he would be 
 delighted to accompany them. 
 
 She hardly knew whether to be hurt or amused at the rail 
 lery which her communication called forth. 'And so you 
 
66 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 really believed that humbug !' exclaimed Harry. ' Here 
 have I been, these last two days, employing all the arts of a 
 blackleg to keep clear of those jackanapes, who were trying to 
 entice me into that nonsensical farce. Why, I have hardly 
 dared show myself in any of their haunts, and have been half 
 afraid of my own shadowiest it should take the form of a stage 
 manager ; and you, innocent lamb that you are, would lead me 
 into the very thick of the fight. Why, they would condemn 
 me, without mercy, to the part of Julius Caesar, or, worse still, 
 that of Vic Vannecker's lover ; upon my word, my dear, they 
 are a perfect set of harpies/ 
 
 Miss Sabiah now began to expostulate against Mabel's life 
 being sacrificed to late hours and bad weather, and Mr. 
 Vaughan, taking alarm at these intimations, looked up from his 
 newspaper to remark, that it was a very wet evening, and 
 that he hoped she did not think of going out. 
 
 The discussion, however, was interrupted by the arrival of 
 Mrs. Leroy, whose wilful obstinacy was proof against all 
 opposition. Mabel would now gladly have retracted her 
 promise, but Louise exacted its fulfilment, arid the most that 
 could be peaceably effected was a compromise, by which it 
 was agreed that they should return home early. At Mabel's 
 earnest entreaty, seconded by that of her father, Harry was 
 persuaded to accompany them, with the express understand 
 ing that he was at liberty to make his escape, if there was 
 any attempt made to enlist him for future service among the 
 theatrical corps. At the carriage door, however, they were 
 greeted by the voices of Mrs. Vannecker and her daughter, 
 who were comfortably ensconced on the back seat. 
 
 A low exclamation of impatience escaped from Harry. 
 ' I'm off/ whispered he to Mabel ; then added aloud, ' there 
 are enough of you to take care of each other, I see good 
 night/ 
 
 If Mabel felt vexed at this inauspicious commencement of 
 the evening, this feeling was scarcely allayed by the events 
 that succeeded. The much-vaunted performance proved to 
 be merely a rehearsal ; the parts were ill-learned, the stage 
 ill-lighted, the actors out of humour. Louise betook herself 
 behind the scenes, and mingled in the petty contentions of the 
 rival aspirants ; while Mrs. Vannecker wearied Mabel's ears 
 with an excited recital of Victoria's wrongs, and her success 
 ful retaliation upon the offenders. Long before Miss Van- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 67 
 
 necker and Louise could be persuaded to depart, which was 
 not until near midnight, Mabel had, despite her good nature, 
 arrived at the uneasy conclusion that her sister and friends 
 were making 1 her the tool of their own love of pleasure ; and 
 ceasing to feel any interest in the histrionic disputes and 
 failures, her thoughts became occupied with compassion for 
 her aunt and Harry, who were awaiting her at home, and 
 sympathy for her weary coachman and restless horses, ex 
 posed to a wintry rain, and, like herself, the victims of 
 imposition. 
 
 But the vexations of the evening did not end here. A 
 more provoking disappointment was yet to come. 
 
 It was half revealed in the triumphant expression of 
 countenance which met her on her return home, and Mabel 
 felt a deeper sense of regret than she would have been willing 
 to acknowledge, when she learned that during nearly the 
 whole of her absence, Harry and Miss Sabiah had been in 
 the enjoyment of Lincoln Dudley's society, listening to his 
 rich strains of anecdote, poetry, and learning, borne, as her 
 imagination suggested, into those regions of thought and 
 fancy, to which such a mind as his could not fail to lead the 
 way. She even fancied there was something malicious in the 
 relish with which Harry quoted some of his friend's best 
 sayings, something positively taunting in the assurance of 
 her usually unimpressible aunt, that she would not probably 
 have any opportunity during the winter to make the ac 
 quaintance of this uncommonly agreeable man, for that he 
 had missed the cars by accident that afternoon, had devoted 
 his only evening to them, and would leave for Philadelphia in 
 the Sunday morning train. 
 
 So ended a day of vexations ; and Mabel's weekly calendar 
 of pleasure, excitement, and gratified pride, closed with a 
 confused but certain sense of weariness, regret, and dis 
 appointment. 
 
 How impossible it is to please everybody, thought she, as, 
 in the retirement of her own room, she reviewed the events 
 of the day, dwelling with peculiar bitterness upon that climax 
 of misfortune, the loss of Dudley's visit. 
 
 And having thus come to the conclusion that it was im 
 possible to please everybody, she composed herself to sleep 
 with the half-formed resolve, that henceforth she would 
 attempt only to please herself. 
 
 p 2 
 
68 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Happily, neither this dangerous resolve, nor the painful 
 emotions which had given it birth, were destined to survive 
 a night's repose, and the Sabbath sun shone on no more 
 radiant face than Mabel's, and enkindled in no youthful 
 breast more generous impulses. 
 
 A deeper cloud may one day settle on her pathway, and 
 involve her bright spirit in a keener conflict. Well for her, 
 then, if the powers of darkness flee away at the dawn of 
 light, while faith whispers to her burdened heart that earth 
 has no night of trouble and despair from which the Sun of 
 Righteousness may not at length arise with healing in his 
 wings. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How wondrous are God's secret ways ! 
 
 The chastening furnace of affliction 
 Taught this young maiden's heart to praise 
 
 Her Lord in streams of benediction ! 
 Sorrow, and poverty, and pain, 
 
 Might hide from sight the blessing streaming 
 From Heaven on her fair head ; but plain 
 
 Unto the eye of faith 'twas gleaming. 
 
 E. L. Night Watches. 
 
 LEAVING Mabel to the soothing influence of youthful slumber, 
 let us follow one of equal years, but of far different fortunes, 
 who, at a somewhat earlier hour in the evening-, might be 
 seen, alone, unprotected, and on foot, hastening down a neigh 
 bouring street. 
 
 The duties of the day fulfilled, the children sunk in sleep, 
 and her mistress' evening toilette completed, the weary Lydia 
 sought Mrs. Vannecker's apartments, and having persuaded 
 that lady's good-natured maid to take her place in Mrs. 
 Leroy's nursery, threw on \ a well-worn bonnet and shawl, 
 and promising to return in an hour, passed down a back stair 
 case and left the hotel at a quick pace. 
 
 The night was dark, and the walking bad, being in some 
 places wet, and in others slippery with the half-congealed rain. 
 Lydia was thinly shod, and had not walked many rods before 
 her feet were thoroughly soaked, and her whole frame shiver 
 ing with the cold. She felt timid, too, at being alone in the 
 streets at so late an hour, and as she ventured into the nar 
 rower and darker lanes of the city, cast more and more 
 anxious glances around her. Once, in her haste, she slipped, 
 and would have fallen, but a rude, though kindly hand, was 
 suddenly stretched forth for her safety, and before she could 
 see whence came the friendly aid which had abruptly restored 
 
70 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 her to her feet, her beggarly-looking benefactor had passed 
 on. Still more alarmed at the attention which this little 
 circumstance attracted, and disturbed at the quick, and as the 
 over-excited girl imagined, the curious glances bestowed upon 
 her by one or two passers-by, she now commenced running, 
 and had proceeded some paces without looking to the right 
 or left, when, as she gained a street corner, a hand was 
 suddenly laid upon her shoulder. She gave a quick and 
 nervous start, but, re-assured by the sound of a familiar laugh, 
 checked herself in her rapid progress, and exclaimed, quite 
 out of breath, but in a tone of evident relief, ' Why, Jack, is 
 that you ? How you frightened me ?' 
 
 ' "What are you afraid of?' asked the other, in a rough, but 
 boyish tone. 
 
 'Afraid of everything,' said Lydia. C I am not used to 
 being out in the night, and you ought not to be either ; who 
 is that with you ?' added she, in an undertone, as she caught 
 sight of a figure lingering near them. 
 
 Jack hesitated, and then replied, somewhat reluctantly, 
 1 Bob Martin.' 
 
 e Oh, Jack !' was the only response the girl made, but the 
 tone of her voice conveyed reproof. 
 
 Her brother, for such was the relation between the two, 
 looked down, marked a little circle on the snow with his foot, 
 and was silent. 
 
 ' Come,' said Lydia, * I am going home, and I am in a 
 hurry. I have only an hour to stay. Come with me, Jack/ 
 
 The boy made a reluctant movement to accompany her, at 
 the same time whistling significantly to his companion, a 
 youth much taller than himself, and who, with an independent 
 and swaggering air, had sauntered down the street in the 
 direction the brother and sister were pursuing. 
 
 ' Hush !' whispered Lydia ; ' don't call that boy, I don't 
 want him.' 
 
 i Well, come along, then,' said Jack, roughly, and he moved 
 in the direction of home. They had not proceeded far, how 
 ever, before they overtook Bob Martin, who was purposely 
 loitering under the shadow of a building, and as they passed 
 him, Jack spoke under his breath, but loud enough to be dis 
 tinctly heard by Lydia, ' You wait here, Bob, I'll be back 
 in a jiffy.' 
 
 The two walked on for a few moments in silence, then 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 71 
 
 Lydia exclaimed, with considerable irritation of manner, ( I 
 wonder what mother would say, Jack, if she knew you were 
 out with Bob Martin at this time of night !' 
 
 i Mother doesn't know anything about him,' replied the 
 boy, ( nor you either. Bob's a real good fellow !' 
 
 ' Why, Jack,' cried Lydia, 4 how can you say so ? You 
 know he is the most idle, profane boy in the neighbourhood ; 
 I should think you had had warning enough to keep out of 
 his way.' 
 
 * I don't care,' said Jack, ' he is a real good-hearted fellow, 
 anyhow.' 
 
 ' I should think you would be ashamed of yourself, Jack,' 
 said Lydia, vehemently, ( to be standing up for such a fellow 
 as he is!' 
 
 ' Didn't he stand up for me, I should like to know ?' 
 retorted Jack, angrily. 
 
 A glance of scorn shot from Lydia's eyes, as she replied in 
 a contemptuous tone of voice, ' Well, if I were in your place, 
 I wouldn't say much about that.' 
 
 'Why not?' asked Jack, turning almost fiercely upon 
 her. 
 
 ' Because,' answered she, with temper, i if you like to talk 
 about it, I don't.' 
 
 1 Poh !' exclaimed Jack, attempting a braggart tone, in 
 spite of the evident mortification which overspread his face at 
 his sister's words. 
 
 A long silence ensued, broken only by an occasional whistle 
 from the boy, who walked at Lydia's side with a shuffling gait 
 and a forced air of unconcern. At length the latter asked, 
 with some abruptness, ' How is Rosy ?' 
 
 The question seemed to have a magical effect upon the boy. 
 He ceased whistling, and the careless, blustering tone in 
 which he had previously spoken, became subdued and tre 
 mulous as he replied, ' She ain't any better ; I don't believe, 
 Lyddy, she will ever be/ 
 
 Lydia did not answer, and they reached their destination 
 without another word being spoken. Jack, having accompa 
 nied her to the door, now drew back, as if he had no thought 
 of entering, and she, seeing the movement, paused and looked 
 in his face with eager scrutiny, while she said, * You don't 
 mean to go back to him to-night?' 
 
 1 But I do, though,' was the defiant reply. 
 
72 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 Lydia expostulated with injudicious warmth, and a short 
 and somewhat sharp dialogue between the two, resulted 
 finally in the irritation of both parties, and a resolve in the 
 mind of the self-willed boy to enjoy the society of his friend 
 whenever he pleased, in spite^of his sister's well-meant but 
 unavailing interference. 
 
 The truth of the case was this. The Hope family, of 
 which Lydia and Jack were members, had, a few weeks before, 
 been subjected to agitation and alarm by the sudden tidings 
 that the latter, with a party of rude companions, had been 
 engaged in a street brawl, and was shut up in the watch-house 
 for the night, with the prospect of being next day committed 
 to gaol. From this situation he had only been rescued upon 
 the payment of a heavy fine, which consumed the hard- 
 earned savings of his mother, and compelled his hitherto 
 indulged sister to seek the service she now fulfilled at Mrs. 
 Leroy's. 
 
 The poor widow, already nearly weighed down by misfor 
 tune, bowed her head in silence at this new stroke, uttered few 
 complaints, greeted her son on his return home with few re 
 proaches, save those which were conveyed in every line of her 
 despairing countenance, and pursued her daily labour with a 
 slow step and apathetic air, which spoke of a weary, care-worn 
 frame, and a heart grown old and seared amid anxiety and 
 trouble. 
 
 But Lydia had not yet reached that degree of hopeless sub 
 mission, nor had she learned in the school of hardship and dis 
 appointment that meek forbearance which has its source in 
 Christian faith. Moreover, her spirit could not easily brook 
 the mortification and distress which Jack's misconduct had 
 entailed upon them all, and she assumed more than an elder 
 sister's privilege in the harsh rebukes which she bestowed 
 upon the offender, and the bitter scorn which she heaped 
 upon his idle and profligate companions, especially Bob 
 Martin, a recent and most unprofitable associate. 
 
 Jack could not deny the fact that Bob had led him into 
 difficulty, but he still insisted, with grateful warmth, on the 
 debt he owed him for the ability and shrewdness with which he 
 had conducted their mutual defence, obtaining their liberation 
 after a single night's imprisonment at the police station. 
 
 To every accusation brought against his new friend by the 
 incensed Lydia, he was ready, as we have seen, with the 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 73 
 
 prompt rejoinder, ' He's a good-hearted fellow, any way, and 
 stood up for me when all the rest were only thinking how they 
 should get clear of the scrape themselves.' 
 
 Thus, this mortifying adventure served, on the whole, to 
 confirm rather than weaken the influence which the experienced 
 offender had gained over his young and unsophisticated com 
 panion, who, long since emancipated from his mother's control, 
 and still less disposed to submit to Lydia's dictation, now ap 
 peared to acknowledge no authority save that of the city magis 
 trates, of which his recent experience still held him in awe. 
 
 But, although blind to the silent woe painted on his mother's 
 features, deaf to the unsparing rebukes of the injured Lydia, 
 arid steeled against the ill-opinion of the neighbourhood, there 
 was one gentle influence against which the boy's rebellious 
 spirit was not proof. There was one eye which followed him, 
 even when absent from its presence one voice which never 
 spoke to his ear unheard one little hand whose restraining 
 pressure had power to check him in his headlong career. 
 Gently and noiselessly had the spell been cast around him ; but 
 the boy's rude nature softened, and his heart bowed down with 
 something like holy awe, when he listened to the sweet, loving 
 words, or gazed upon the little withered form of his invalid 
 sister, Rosy. 
 
 She alone had received him after his disgrace, in that spirit 
 which at once whispers to the contrite heart of sorrow, forgive 
 ness, love, and hope. She had extended her little trembling- 
 hand, and while the tear started to her large blue eye, had 
 pressed it to her fevered cheek, and murmured, in broken 
 accents, 'You will not stay away from Rosy another night?' 
 and he had laid his head on her pillow and wept, though no 
 one but Rosy knew it. 
 
 There was a chord in his heart, the secret spring of which 
 this sick little sufferer alone had power to touch. Often, amid 
 noisy and contentious scenes, did this one tender and plaintive 
 note break in upon the discord ; and thus it happened that, on 
 the evening in question, when Lydia, in the tumult of excited 
 feeling, was about to lay an impetuous hand upon the latch of 
 her mother's door, she was checked by a sudden and hasty 
 caution from Jack, who, immediately after a storm of angry 
 invective, exclaimed, in a more gentle tone, t Hush ! Lyd 
 don't make a noise like enough Rosy's asleep she was when 
 I came away.' 
 
74 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 This door, the upper part of which consisted of glass, and 
 thus answered the purpose also of a window, led directly into 
 a low, dimly-lighted, and ill-furnished shop ; and notwith 
 standing Lydia's precautions, a little bell attached to the 
 entrance tinkled loudly as she entered. She paused a moment* 
 until the sound should have died away, and was then advanc 
 ing into an inner room, when she was met by her mother, 
 whose quick ear had caught the ever-welcome sound of the 
 bell, and who was eagerly hastening to wait upon the supposed 
 customer. 
 
 f Why, Lyddy , is that you ?' she exclaimed, her sober face re 
 lieved by a sickly smile, as the parent prevailed over the shop 
 keeper, and her disappointed hopes of a purchaser for her goods 
 gave place to maternal satisfaction at the sight of her child. 
 
 Then, bestowing on her a more careful glance, she added, 
 in an anxious tone, the smile at the same time dying away 
 from her pale face, ' What is the matter, child ? How wet 
 you are! here, come into the back room I've got a fire in 
 the stove;' and she stepped into a small apartment behind the 
 shop, Lydia following her with a languid step and quivering 
 lip. It was a mere box of a place, uncarpeted, scantily 
 furnished, and with a close, unwholesome atmosphere. The 
 flames which were crackling in the stove had evidently been 
 but recently kindled, for the mixture contained in a large 
 kettle, placed directly over them, had not commenced boiling, 
 and the air in the room was chilly. Lydia threw her bonnet 
 on a table, seated herself in a chair beside it, and fixed her 
 eyes moodily in the direction of the stove.' Her mother 
 stirred the mixture. Neither of them spoke. At length a 
 long sigh from Lydia broke the silence. ' Do tell me what 
 has happened,' said Mrs. Hope ; l something has gone wrong, 
 and I may as well know first as last ;' and as she spoke she 
 stretched out her hand and gently closed the door which led 
 into a little sleeping-room beyond. Then, as Lydia still 
 continued silent, she added, i have you left your place?' 
 
 ' Not yet,' exclaimed Lydia, the self-control which had 
 been but ill-maintained before, now giving way entirely, and 
 her voice half-choked with sobs ; l nothing so dreadful is the 
 matter, and I wish I hadn't come here to-night ; I don't see 
 what I did for, only only ' and here she covered her face 
 with her hands, and fell to weeping so bitterly that she found 
 it impossible to utter another word. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 75 
 
 The poor mother looked distressed, and continued her opera 
 tions at the stove with a vacant air, her eye resting on her 
 child. A somewhat commonplace and practical character, and 
 constant familiarity with trouble, forbade any more marked 
 demonstration of anxiety. Pier sympathy was none the less 
 keen, however, and from time to time she uttered interjectional 
 phrases, designed to call forth an explanation of this new sor 
 row, and subdue its effects. 
 
 Not until the girl had indulged in a short but hearty fit of 
 weeping, did she pay any regard to the ; Come, Lyddy ! now 
 don't, Lyddy !' with which her mother from time to time ad 
 dressed her. At length, however, she lifted up her head, 
 shook it with a determined air, wiped the tears from her stained 
 face, and drawing near the stove, took off her shoes and placed 
 her wet feet upon the hearth. Encouraged by these favour 
 able symptoms, Mrs. Hope seated herself in an opposite chair, 
 and soon had the satisfaction of hearing from the now loosened 
 and voluble tongue of Lydia an explanation of her agitated 
 state of mind. Greatly relieved was she, also, to become as 
 sured that this unusual agitation had sprung from causes far 
 less serious than her imagination had pictured. 
 
 Still the poor woman could not listen unmoved to a detailed 
 account of the injustice and abuse which her child had suffered, 
 nor could she fail to share the suspicion and dread which had 
 been excited in Lydia's mind 'by Jack's recent display of ob 
 stinacy and self-will, a full report of which was unhesitatingly 
 poured into her ear. 
 
 Had Lydia been a heroine, had she even been a girl of 
 spirit, she would not have fled to her mother with this long 
 list of troubles. She would either have stayed away from the 
 abode of poverty and sickness, or would have come hither with 
 a cheerful countenance. She would have drawn a veil over 
 her own grievances, and pondered deeply upon Jack's disposi 
 tion for bad company, before she had saddened her mother's 
 heart, and perhaps caused her a sleepless night, by expatiating 
 upon his violence and folly. 
 
 But Lydia was no heroine ; she was only a tired, irritated 
 servant girl, whose fortunes and spirits were both under a 
 cloud ; and so she came as hundreds of us have done in our 
 turn to pour all her grievances into a mother's ear, and lay 
 her weight of sorrows on a heart already sufficiently burdened 
 with its own. 
 
76" MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 * Well,' said Mrs. Hope, with a deep groan, ' if you can't 
 stay at your place you must come home that's all. We 
 can't be much worse off than we have been ; and as to Jack, 
 why if he will go to ruin, he will, and it's no use to worry 
 about it.' 
 
 Such philosophy was not very consoling ; still Lydia's load 
 of care seemed lighter, now that her mother had taken up the 
 burden ; and recalling the one bright feature in her day's ex 
 perience, she proceeded to relate the incident of Mabel's inter 
 ference, at the same time drawing from her pocket the price of 
 her painful services, advanced to her from such an unexpected 
 quarter. But, greatly to her surprise and grief, her mother 
 refused to receive the money. ' You will find plenty of use 
 for it yourself, before you get another place,' said the poor 
 widow, who inwardly shrunk from appropriating the wages of 
 Lydia's daily slavery. ' You haven't a decent pair of shoes 
 to your feet,' added she. glancing at the worn and almost use 
 less slippers now drying on the stove. 
 
 * Oh, take it, mother, do take it !' exclaimed the mortified 
 and repentant Lydia, at once perceiving the effect of her own 
 selfish murmurings. 
 
 1 Hark !' said Mrs. Hope, softly, without seeming to notice 
 her extended hand. They both listened. A low sound was 
 distinctly audible through the closed door of the bed-room. 
 Mrs. Hope made a motion to rise, and at the same instant the 
 shop-bell was heard to ring. Lydia started forward, saying, 
 eagerly, ' I will see if Rosy wants anything, mother, while you 
 mind the shop.' 
 
 Let us follow Lydia into the bed-room. There is a taper 
 dimly burning there, an indulgence always craved by the sick 
 child, who, propped up by pillows, is reclining on the bed. It 
 would be difficult to guess her age; for though her little 
 wasted limbs and tiny hands would seem those of a young 
 child, there is no youthful glow in the pale and sunken face 
 resting on the pillow. Her hair is light, and has a golden 
 tinge; her transparent forehead is marked with deep blue 
 veins ; there is a dark circle beneath her eyes ; her features 
 are narrow and contracted ; her thin lips pressed close together 
 as if sealed in that position by long and persevering efforts to 
 repress every indication of the pain which has, nevertheless, 
 set its seal on each line of her expressive face. There is no 
 beauty, no loveliness, no childish promise in that pinched and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 77 
 
 narrow countenance, on which disease has stamped itself for 
 years. Only in the deep blue eyes, which like brilliant jewels 
 seem starting from their withered settings, can one read aught 
 of hope ; nor is it any earthly hope with which the soul seems 
 ever looking forth from those bright windows, on on through 
 the mists of time, to some happy, though unknown land, where 
 the patient little sufferer may hope to rest. 
 
 Lydia opened the door so noiselessly, that the sound was 
 unheard by her sister, who had awaked from sleep with the 
 moan which had been heard in the next room, but who now 
 commenced singing, if that could be termed singing which con 
 sisted merely of a low, warbling sound, a few soft syllables, 
 chanted again and again to a tune of her own composing. 
 Her eyes were fixed on the opposite wall, and she did not 
 observe Lydia's entrance, until the latter stood close beside 
 her. She then turned her head slightly, unclasped her thin 
 hands, and laid one of them on the hand of her sister, saying 
 softly, ' Lyddy !' 
 
 Lydia sat down on the side of the bed. Who would have 
 believed, to see the pretty, well-grown young woman, and the 
 puny, sickly child, that there was a difference of but five years 
 in their ages ! but so it was, for Rosy's little withered form 
 had already numbered thirteen summers. 
 
 1 Have you been very ill to-day, Rose ?' asked Lydia in a 
 low voice. 
 
 i Lyddy,' said the child, < I've had to sing all the time 
 when I have been awake.' 
 
 Lydia sighed, for Rose had told her in confidence, just 
 before she left home, that she never sang except when in 
 great pain. 
 
 ' 0, poor Rosy !' she exclaimed, in a tone of deep com 
 passion. 
 
 ' No, not poor,' said Rose, thoughtfully, ' not poor ;' and 
 fixing her eyes upon the opposite wall with that earnest gaze 
 which seemed to look far off into the future, she added 
 ' little pilgrim and I have kept each other company all day, 
 the path is dark, Lyddy, but God's blessed angels keep watch 
 above the clouds, and the way grows brighter at the end, you 
 know.' 
 
 As Rosy spoke, Lydia's eyes unconsciously sought the 
 object to which the child's attention seemed riveted, as if 
 striving to discern in it the source of that rapt and serene joy, 
 
78 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 which now lent a momentary glow to her sister's sunken fea 
 tures. The feeble light of the taper shone directly upon a 
 small, but exquisite engraving, which, neatly, and even richly 
 framed, was strangely incongruous with the meagre furniture 
 and time-stained walls of the apartment, being the only object 
 of taste or luxury which the room afforded. A portion of the 
 picture was in shadow, but the figure of a youthful traveller 
 was discernible in the foreground, above whose head rolled 
 many a dark and threatening cloud, while the path beneath 
 his feet was obscure and narrow. He trod with an assured 
 step, however, and an eye uplifted to the spot where, in the 
 clearer firmament, three cherub heads might be distinctly seen, 
 looking forth from above the silvery summits of those very 
 clouds, which at their base were so dark and fearful. 
 
 It was no new appeal which this little fellow-pilgrim made 
 to the sympathizing heart of Rosy, no fresh lesson of encou 
 ragement and hope which she drew from the sight of the 
 angel-guard, set above life's dreary pathway. For many a 
 year, the picture had accompanied her from one room to 
 another, hanging always opposite her bed, during the long 
 weeks of illness that had often confined her to her pillow. But 
 its eloquence was not exhausted yet. Every day, on the 
 contrary, her spirit drank deeper of its heavenly lesson, and 
 became more and more convinced of the reality of its blessed 
 promises ; while to her lonely hours of pain, it acted as a 
 soothing balm, none the less effectual from the frequency of 
 its application. 
 
 A moment's glance at the familiar picture was sufficient for 
 Lydia, whose mind was not open to the language of art, more 
 especially to those things which are spiritually discerned. 
 None could be blind to its sacred truths, however, as they were 
 seen reflected in the holy patience, the religious calm, which 
 overspread the pale face of Rosy ; and a deep and humble 
 sense of contrition stole into the heart of Lydia, as she com 
 pared her own fretful murmurings with the saint-like submis 
 sion of the child. l O, Rose !' cried she, her self-reproach 
 bursting forth with a sudden vehemence which startled the 
 invalid girl, l you make me quite ashamed of myself in 
 deed you do ! I wish I were^ half as good as you are. My 
 troubles are nothing to yours, and yet I make myself and 
 everybody else miserable j while you you make the best of 
 everything.' 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAN. 79 
 
 Eose looked anxiously into her sister's face, and answered 
 soothingly * O, Lyddy ! no wonder you get discouraged, you 
 have so much to do, and so many to please, while I only 
 have to be patient with myself. I have thought about you all 
 the week, and have wished Oh, how I have wished I could 
 see you once in a while, and know how you were getting 
 along, and whether the boys were very naughty, and if you 
 had to sit up late every night for Mrs. Leroy. You are all 
 tired out, ain't you, Lyddy ?' continued she, observing the 
 languid and despairing attitude into which the weary girl had 
 thrown herself. ' Here, lie down by me a few minutes and 
 rest !' Rose threw her arm over her sister, and as the latter 
 laid down beside her, she went on in a soft and soothing voice 
 ' tell me all about them, Lyddy, dear.' 
 4 What shall I tell?' asked Lydia. 
 ' Oh, everything ; whatever troubles you most.' 
 But that Lydia could not do. The petty vexations of the 
 week had sunk into "insignificance in view of Rose's patient 
 endurance, nor could she relate to the sick child the deeper 
 wound she had suffered on her account, with all its unhappy 
 consequences. 
 
 4 I will tell you,' said she, after a moment's hesitation, ; of 
 some one I have seen to-day, who is as beautiful as 
 ' As Mrs. Leroy ?' inquired Rose, interrupting her. 
 4 Oh, yes, indeed,' answered Lydia, in a tone which seemed 
 to disdain the comparison. 
 
 f But you thought her so pretty at first !' 
 c Did I ? Well, I don't now ; but never mind. Miss 
 Mabel doesn't look one bit like her, though she is her sister ;' 
 and warming with the subject, Lydia lifted her head from the 
 pillow, and leaning on her -elbow, with her eyes fixed upon 
 Rosy, entered upon a glowing panegyric of her new and kind 
 young friend. 
 
 Rose seemed to catch her enthusiasm as she proceeded, and 
 at length exclaimed with eager interest, as Lydia paused in 
 her animated description, < Tell me more ; what did she say to 
 Alick? did he like her ?' 
 
 Lydia, once embarked on the subject, gave a faithful narra 
 tive of Mabel's visit, with the exception of those particulars 
 which related to her own difficulty with Mrs. Leroy, and con 
 sequent dismission. 
 
 4 Fresh, bright, and beautiful ! and just from the country !' 
 
80 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 said Rose meditatively, ' Oh, how I should like to see 
 her!' 
 
 Lydia sighed as she thought how improbable it was that this 
 wish would ever be gratified. 
 
 ' You will see her again ?' said Rose in an inquiring tone. 
 
 ' Perhaps so/ 
 
 ' And you will remember everything she says, and does, so 
 as to tell me?' 
 
 1 1 will try.' 
 
 ' Just from the country !' again soliloquized Rose. * How I 
 should like to see some one from the country/ Poor Rose had 
 never in her life been beyond the city streets, and the country, 
 to her imagination, was an earthly Paradise. 
 
 ' Rose/ said Lydia, in a hopeful tone of voice, * you must 
 get better, so that next summer you and I can go up to the 
 old farm/ 
 
 Rose shook her head, and then as if a thought had suddenly 
 occurred to her mind, said in a quiet whisper, ' Lyddy, where's 
 Jack?' 
 
 4 Gone off with Bob Martin,' replied Lydia, some returning 
 bitterness mingling with her tone of voice, ' and I may as well 
 go back alone,' continued she, making a movement to rise 
 from her place by Rose's side, ' for like enough he won't be 
 home till morning/ 
 
 ' Yes he will,' said Rose, confidently ; c he will come to give 
 me my drops at ten ; he has never forgotten it since you went 
 away. Is it near that time now ?' 
 
 ' It can't be far from it,' said Lydia. ' I will go and get 
 my bonnet, and see if my shoes are dry/ 
 
 At this moment Jack's voice was heard in the shop, and just 
 as a church clock near by struck the hour of ten, he entered 
 Rose's room on tiptoe, holding in his hand a cup and phial. 
 Lydia had not yet left the room, but sat behind the bed, quite 
 out of sight, and Bob Martin himself could scarcely have been 
 more astonished than she was at the sight which now met her 
 eyes. 
 
 Could this be Jack, the noisy and oftentimes profane boy, 
 who now stood near the light, carefully measuring out and 
 counting the drops ? Could it be his rough hand which was 
 tenderly passed beneath his sister's neck, while he gently 
 rested her head on his shoulder, and placed the medicine to 
 her lips ? Above all, could it be his rude accents which were 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 81 
 
 no\v softened to the affectionate inquiry, ' Do you feel any 
 better, Rosy ?' 
 
 Yes, it was Jack ; there could be no doubt of that, for as 
 Lydia followed him into the kitchen, after his labours as a 
 nurse were completed, he betrayed his ordinary self by the 
 abrupt and harsh manner in which he addressed her with, 
 6 Well, Lyd ! you here yet ?' 
 
 ' Of course I am,' said Lydia, half provoked, half grieved, 
 at his surly manner towards her ; * did you suppose I had gone 
 back alone ?' 
 
 ' Jack !' called Rose from the next room. " 
 
 He was instantly by her side. 
 
 * You'll go home with Lyddy ?' 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 * And then come back to me?' 
 
 6 ,T es -' 
 
 4 That's a good boy.' 
 
 * Good night, Rose,' said Lydia, stooping over her bed to 
 kiss her, while Jack went to look for his cap. ' I can't tell 
 when I shall see you again ; give this to mother when I am 
 gone. Good night, darling ;' and she left in Rose's hands the 
 bank-bills which her poor mother had declined receiving. 
 
 It was a very dreary walk back to the hotel still raining, 
 and very wet under foot. Jack and Lydia proceeded rapidly 
 and in silence, the former somewhat in advance, while the latter 
 tried to pick her way, so as to avoid the puddles in the side 
 walk. Both were thoughtful ; both perhaps a little mortified, 
 at their recent ill-humour; at all events neither felt disposed 
 for conversation, and a hasty good-night from Lydia, and a, 
 sulky response from her brother, were all that passed between 
 them. 
 
 Perhaps the walk, with the meditations to which it gave 
 rise, left an impression upon Lydia's mind, for her sleep that 
 night was haunted by the vision of a dark and dreary road on 
 which she and Jack were travelling ; sometimes Mabel seemed 
 to be with them, leading her little nephews by the hand ; arid 
 always the path was hard, and the sky overshadowed with 
 clouds. But they went on, it seemed to her, in safety, and 
 the way grew brighter as they went, while on every cloud an 
 angel rode triumphant, and every angel wore the face of 
 Rosy. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 And oft though wisdom -wake, suspicion sleeps 
 At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
 Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
 Where no ill seems. 
 
 MILTON. 
 
 SEVERAL weeks passed away, during which Mabel continued 
 to enjoy an almost uninterrupted round of gaiety. A city 
 belle, however, should, notwithstanding the precautions of 
 modern luxury, be possessed of a constitution insensible to 
 every injurious influence ; and Mabel, despite her usual high 
 health, was not proof against the combined effects of excite 
 ment, exposure, and fatigue. A sudden cold, accompanied 
 by feverish symptoms, compelled her, at length, to forego all 
 society, save that which her home afforded ; and now for the 
 first time, perhaps, did she learn to estimate the full extent of 
 that solicitude of which she was the cherished object. Her 
 father's affectionate anxiety, her aunt's assiduous and patient 
 nursing, and Harry's brotherly attention and devoted ness, far 
 outweighed the gratification derived from the numerous bou 
 quets and notes of condolence which covered her dressing- 
 room table ; and during a few days of positive illness, and a 
 week of convalescence, she had an ample opportunity of ap 
 preciating the value of those domestic blessings and privileges, 
 which had hitherto been obscured by the more brilliant plea 
 sures of fashion and the world. 
 
 This temporary and forced seclusion from society occurred, 
 too, at the time when Mabel was first beginning to be conscious 
 of the monotony which existed in those gay circles, which to 
 Louise constituted the world. A certain fondness for admira 
 tion, and a natural gratification at the large share of it which 
 her position and charms excited, had served for a time to 
 blind her to the insipidity of the sources from whence it was 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 83 
 
 bestowed ; and the attractions of dress, excitement, and dis 
 play, enlisted her interest so long as they continued to be 
 novelties. But she had too much freshness of feeling to find 
 any lasting pleasure in the same unvaried round of engage 
 ments, especially as her intellect occasionally rebelled at the 
 endless repetition of ball-room nonsense which constituted the 
 conversation of Mrs. Leroy's set. 
 
 The power of habit is strong, however, and she probably 
 would not have had the force of will to break through the 
 charmed ring of fashion, had not necessity laid its iron hand 
 upon her. Her cheerful and loving disposition now found the 
 means of both receiving and conferring pleasure in her home, 
 and her conscience more than once reproached her for previous 
 neglect of the spot, to which her presence, even as an invalid, 
 evidently had the power to impart sunshine. 
 
 Aunt Sabiah was like a new being, now that she had the 
 happiness of Mabel's society, and the occupation of officiating 
 as a nurse. Mr. Vaughan went later to his office in the morn 
 ing, and passed his evenings with his family in the library, 
 where the numerous charts, which usually engrossed his mind, 
 were never once unrolled. As for Harry, he seemed suddenly 
 relieved from his wonted press of convivial engagements, and 
 found time to read aloud to his aunt and Mabel, translate 
 German songs for the latter, and entertain himself and torment 
 Sabiah by rallying her upon the subject of the ill-shaped stock 
 ings which constituted her favourite knitting work, and which, 
 although displaced in the parlour by some more elegant employ 
 ment, were gladly resumed in the retirement of an invalid's 
 room. Their distorted calves and shrivelled ankles afforded 
 Harry's fancy continual play, as to the sort of animal for whose 
 use they might be intended ; and although he never called 
 forth any other than the invariable retort, that ' it was a poor 
 leg that wouldn't shape its own stocking/ he seemed quite 
 contented to have the war of wits all to himself. So happy 
 was he, apparently, under this new order of things, that he 
 seldom left the house for any great length of time, except 
 when warned away by the arrival of Mrs. Leroy, who made 
 a daily visit of bustle and inquiry, and the rustling of whose 
 flounces was usually the signal for her brother to walk off, 
 whistling an opera air. 
 
 Louise was half provoked at the contentment with which 
 Mabel submitted to a week's imprisonment j more especially 
 
84 MAIJEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 as she felt herself in some degree called upon to enliven her 
 seclusion now and then with her presence, a species of self- 
 sacrifice which she found intolerably irksome. She always 
 contrived, however, to make some plausible apology for the 
 shortness of her visits, and came and went with such grace 
 ful ease, and so many affectionate inquiries and compli 
 mentary messages, that Mabel was very naturally gratified 
 by her attentions, and far from disposed to question her 
 sincerity. 
 
 But the very circumstance which repelled Mrs. Leroy, 
 opened a new source of happiness to her children, who now, 
 for the first time, began to enjoy the privileges of a grand 
 father's house. Mabel sent for them occasionally during her 
 short illness ; and though Harry thought it a bore to have 
 Alick poring over a book in the corner of the room, or staring 
 moodily out of the window, and Aunt Sabiah was sure that 
 Murray's noise would throw Mabel into a fever-fit, these visits 
 served, on the whole, to establish natural relations between 
 the boys and the different members of the family, and to sow 
 the seeds of that future influence which each was destined to 
 exercise upon all the rest. How far this experience of 
 domestic joys, with the reflections and sentiments to which it 
 gave rise, might have served to divert Mabel's mind from the 
 enjoyments of gay life, and dispose her to serious and lasting- 
 considerations of her own responsibilities and powers, it is 
 impossible to determine ; for by the time she was restored to 
 health, and consequently to society, a new weight was added 
 to the scale of influence heretofore possessed by the outward 
 world, and a new sentiment engrossed both her intellect and 
 heart, to the exclusion of all rival claims. 
 
 Lincoln Dudley returned unexpectedly to the city, and 
 Mabel met him under circumstances calculated to encourage 
 and increase the romantic interest she had long cherished for 
 her brother's friend. 
 
 A birth-night ball was given by one of her young friends, 
 who, not content with urging Mabel's attendance, both by 
 note and message, came herself to protest against the disap 
 pointment of being refused. Mabel had not been exposed to 
 the evening air since her illness, and the invitation was only 
 accepted with the proviso, on the part of her father, that she 
 should not dance. Louise declared that, under such condi 
 tions, it would be better to stay at home ; but Mabel, with 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 85 
 
 her usual amiability, was glad to gratify her friend on such 
 easy terms. 
 
 She was surrounded by a gay group of flatterers, when she 
 first caught sight of a gentleman, who, leaning against a 
 mantel-piece with an easy and self-possessed air, appeared to 
 be leisurely scanning the assembly. Perhaps there was a 
 magnetic power in those dark, dreamy eyes, for, at the moment 
 when Mabel glanced at the spot where he stood, they were 
 fixed upon her with a glance of scrutiny as well as admiration. 
 When she next observed him, however, he was conversing 
 in an animated manner with a sprightly lady, who evidently 
 found great pleasure in his conversation. 
 
 Had his previous criticism of Mabel been less marked, he 
 could scarcely have failed to engage her attention, he was so 
 very unlike any one she had ever met before. His personal 
 appearance was striking, for, although scarcely of the medium 
 height, his figure was well-formed and graceful, while his 
 attitude and manners denoted an independence, and a freedom 
 from conventional restraint, which distinguished him amid the 
 company as one who could venture to dispense with the minor 
 rules of etiquette. Nevertheless, he was courtly in his 
 demeanour, especially towards ladies, and had evidently the 
 power of making himself generally agreeable for, as Mabel 
 continued her observations, she could not fail to remark the 
 eager reception which his civilities met with from persons of 
 various ages and tastes. 
 
 He soon disappeared amid the crowd, however, and the 
 thoughts of the city belle were once more engrossed by the 
 little throng of admirers who were congratulating themselves 
 upon her reappearance in society, and who remained true to 
 their allegiance, in spite of the music and dancing in an 
 adjoining saloon. 
 
 It was with some surprise, therefore, that she felt the light 
 touch of a fan upon her shoulder, and turning, found Mrs. 
 Leroy beside her, accompanied by the stranger, who had 
 evidently sought Louise for the purpose of obtaining an intro 
 duction to her sister. 
 
 Either Louise, in her haste to return to the dance, failed to 
 pronounce his name in an audible tone, or a little confusion 
 on Mabel's part prevented her catching the sound distinctly ; 
 at all events, she remained quite in ignorance of the fact that 
 she was making the acquaintance of Dudley. 
 
86 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 The self-possessed serenity of his manners, however, quickly 
 restored her wonted composure ; and she knew not how it was, 
 that before many minutes she found herself engaged in a con 
 versation wholly free from the restraint usually consequent 
 upon an abrupt and hasty introduction. Neither did she 
 attempt to account for the fact that, one after another, even the 
 boldest among 1 her attendant beaux retreated to the ball-room 
 or elsewhere, leaving Dudley in full possession of the field. 
 
 She only knew that she was listening to one, who, in beauty 
 of language, originality of thought, and play of fancy, was, in 
 comparison with those who had just left her side, like a being 
 of a different order in nature ; and, flattered at finding herself 
 the object of attraction to a superior mind, and inspired, per 
 haps, by the glance of Dudley's eloquent eyes, she felt con 
 scious of mental aspirations which her intercourse with "society 
 had never before awakened. Finding that she did not dance, 
 Dudley obtained a seat for her, and leaning against an 
 opposite window-frame in his wonted easy and half-indolent 
 attitude, continued to exert his own brilliant powers of con 
 versation, at the same time emboldening her, by his apparently 
 careless address, to do justice to that native grace and force of 
 intellect with which she was amply endowed. 
 
 Not until Mr. Leroy, who chanced to be present on this 
 occasion, came to inform her that the carriage was waiting, 
 and Louise also in readiness to depart, did she realize the 
 length of time in which she had been so agreeably entertained ; 
 and, although the acquaintance of an evening only, she could 
 not conceal from herself the satisfaction she felt at Dudley's 
 parting assurance that he hoped to have the pleasure of soon 
 seeing her again. 
 
 Harry, contrary to expectation, had not made his appear 
 ance ; detained, as it proved, by some friends whom he met 
 at his club ; and it was not until the next day at dinner that 
 Mabel had any opportunity to speak to him concerning the 
 occurrences of the evening. Her communications then were 
 somewhat involuntary, and only drawn from her by pointed 
 questions on his part. He compelled her at length, however, 
 to acknowledge the new acquaintance she had formed, and 
 even drew her on to give a somewhat minute description of 
 the individual. After amusing himself with her conjectures 
 concerning him, and especially her suspicion that he must be 
 a poet, because he had dark eyes, was guilty of long hair, and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 87 
 
 some little eccentricities of dress, and was, moreover, very 
 agreeable, he astonished her with the abrupt remark, ' In a 
 word, you have seen Lincoln Dudley, and the satisfaction 
 seems to be mutual/ 
 
 A glow of delighted surprise overspread Mabel's face at the 
 first part of Harry's announcement, while a quickly succeed 
 ing blush betrayed her sensibility to Dudley's good opinion. 
 Aunt Sabiah at once became interested to learn Mabel's 
 opinion of one who had impressed her most favourably. Mr. 
 Vaughan had some curiosity concerning Harry's friend, and 
 Harry himself was disposed to ply Mabel with further 
 questions. 
 
 But Mabel perseveringly evaded all inquiries, and at length 
 contrived to change the topic of conversation. It continued 
 none the less the subject of her thoughts, however. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no flattery to which a young girl is so 
 susceptible, as that of finding herself an object of interest to a 
 man some years her senior, possessed of a superior mind, and, 
 moreover, one of the most popular and influential members of 
 the society in which she moves. More especially is this the 
 case, when natural refinement of thought and feeling have 
 fitted her for the enjoyment of more elevated and intellectual 
 pleasures than those which are ordinarily furnished in the 
 world of fashion. Even Louise, and the frivolous set with 
 which she had entire sympathy, felt the honour which Mr. 
 Dudley's attentions were capable of conferring, and diligently 
 strove to attain them ; for his social standing was as confirmed 
 as his abilities were acknowledged. How much more highly, 
 then, might Mabel be expected to appreciate the man, who 
 satisfied at once the demands of the most select circles, and 
 inspired that involuntary respect which youth is ever ready to 
 offer at the shrine of genius. 
 
 Dudley's genius, indeed, was of a most universal character. 
 Educated mostly abroad, passing rapidly from one school of 
 knowledge to another, viewing European society in all its 
 phases, and profiting by opportunities which are open to but 
 few, he had become cosmopolitan in his habits, artistic in his 
 tastes, completely versed in the knowledge of society, and 
 everywhere fitted to shine. Those who knew him best de 
 clared him qualified for success in whatever profession he 
 might adopt ; but, although now nearly thirty years of age, 
 his choice was yet undetermined. 
 
88 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Thus, at the time of his introduction to Mabel, he was still 
 a gentleman of leisure, enjoying a moderate income, which 
 was sufficient for the wants of one who, though fastidious and 
 luxurious in his mode of life, was not disposed to reckless ex 
 travagance, and whose weight and influence in society were, 
 strange to say, wholly independent of wealth. 
 
 We shall soon see the effect which this uncommon influence 
 had power to produce upon the young and enthusiastic Mabel. 
 
 Her acquaintance with him ripened rapidly. His intimacy 
 with Harry, and the certainty of a cordial reception at Mr. 
 Vaughan's house, would alone have favoured this. But, al 
 though he frequently made one of their family circle at dinner, 
 and was received at all hours with the familiarity of a privi 
 leged guest, these were not the only occasions which afforded 
 him the opportunity of exciting Mabel's interest, and winning 
 her confidence. She met him everywhere in society ; and his 
 singular powers of fascination were never more successfully 
 exercised than when, amid the distractions of a crowded as 
 sembly, he would now and then seek her side, and, for a longer 
 or shorter time, as the case might be, enchain her thoughts, 
 enkindle her imagination, or excite her merriment, by drawing 
 upon his seemingly inexhaustible stores of information, poetry, 
 wit, and satire. He never danced ; and from the period of 
 Mabel's introduction to him her love of this amusement be 
 came less engrossing. Not that he sought to win her from 
 gayer pleasures by the charm of his conversation, or strove to 
 monopolize any considerable portion of her time. On the 
 contrary, he had too much delicacy and tact to make his atten 
 tions conspicuous; and his preference and admiration were 
 only to be inferred from the eagerness and self-gratulation 
 with which he availed himself of those accidental opportunities 
 which chance or good fortune might throw in his way. 
 
 But, while Mabel's general popularity continued undimi- 
 nished, and she was still the ornament and life of the ball-room, 
 her face was never animated by a more brilliant glow than 
 when, owing to a pause in the music, or a casual movement 
 among the company, she found herself released from her re 
 cent partner in the dance, and brought within the magic in 
 fluence which Dudley's musical voice and eloquent eye had 
 power to exercise upon her imaginative spirit. 
 
 All the other events of the evening might well serve to 
 minister to her vanity and self-love, but these little episodes 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 89 
 
 had a deeper significance, and produced a more subtle and 
 lasting effect upon her heart and life. 
 
 A new ambition, as well as a new sentiment, had been sud 
 denly awakened ; and the young girl, who a month before 
 could scarcely credit the triumph which had placed her beyond 
 the rivalry of fashionable competitors, now felt a deeper thrill 
 of gratified pride as she became conscious of those more en 
 nobling gifts, which caused her to be appreciated by a man of 
 rare cultivation and fastidious taste. 
 
 A fresh impulse was thus given to mental powers which 
 had hitherto lain dormant ; and although the routine of her 
 daily life underwent little change, a close observer might detect 
 many an indication of the new direction which had been given 
 to her motives and aims, and the unwonted interest which was 
 imparted to every scene in which Dudley played a part. 
 
 And while the charm which his presence exercised in the 
 gayer circles effectually vanquished the hesitation with which 
 she resumed her round of fashionable engagements, the ascend 
 ency of his empire over her thoughts was no less perceptible 
 in her moments of retirement and meditation. The topics on 
 which he had awakened her interest became the subject of 
 after thought ; the books from which he had quoted, frequently 
 lay open upon her dressing-table, and the little apartment so 
 choicely furnished by Harry was frequently resorted to for the 
 more careful study of those works of art which possessed the 
 merit of having been selected by Dudley. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, who had been over-anxious on account of his 
 daughter's health, felt too deep a satisfaction in her entire 
 restoration to complain of his deserted fire-side, and patiently 
 betook himself to the usual resource afforded by his papers and 
 charts. Harry, at first gratified by his friend's evident admi 
 ration of his sister, began at length to weary of the subordinate 
 part which he filled in relation to them both, and occasionally, 
 in the domestic circle as well as the public assembly, would 
 quietly absent himself from their society, without being much 
 missed by either party. Miss Sabiah, whose prejudices \ver 
 all in Dudley's favour, forbore to utter any reproaches at the 
 thoughtless and unintentional neglect which sometimes fell to 
 her lot, and fostered her niece's growing preference by the 
 unqualified praise which she bestowed upon its object. 
 
 What wonder, then, that Mabel, unquestioned, unchecked, 
 and unwarned, lent herself without fear or doubt to the emo- 
 
90 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 tion of the hour? What wonder if he, whom all the world 
 admired as the scholar, the poet, and the wit, became in her 
 eyes the noble, the generous, the true, and the disinterested 
 man which he should have been, but which, alas I lie was 
 not? 
 
 With all his varied acquisitions, his knowledge, taste, cul 
 ture, and refinement, with all his appreciation of the beautiful, 
 both in art and nature, and all the seeming fairness of a repu 
 tation which knew no stain, there yet lurked within the well- 
 springs of his being a secret but fatal poison, dwarfing all his 
 higher purposes, and blighting all his nobler hopes. 
 
 Free from all outward forms of vice, he had, nevertheless, 
 no true love of virtue ; bowing at the shrine of female loveli 
 ness, he had no high faith in woman ; and scorning the world 
 in which he lived, he had no power to rise above it. 
 
 Early distrust of all things good had palsied the noblest 
 gifts of nature ; and the life which might have been a blessing 
 to mankind had thus far proved a failure. 
 
 And shall Mabel's trusting heart be exposed to this chilling 
 influence ? Shall the young mind, yearning for truth and 
 knowledge, share the sophistries of a perverted intellect ? Shall 
 the soul open to great and lasting impressions find all its 
 generous aspirations quenched in the cold reasoning of a false 
 experience ? 
 
 Ambition, self-love, pride of heart, a deceived imagination, 
 and a host of worldly allies, will urge her on in the dangerous 
 path which her feet seem doomed to tread. But one shall 
 meet them by the way, a childlike form, clad in holy faith, 
 who shall oppose them with the gentle might of an humble 
 heart, a pure life, and a whispered prayer. Unequal seems 
 the contest, but it is God who giveth the victory. 
 
CHAPTER 
 
 A thousand pretty ways we'll find 
 
 To mock old Winter's starving reign ; 
 
 We'll dress his withered cheeks in flowers, 
 
 And on his smooth bald head 
 
 Fantastic garlands bind. MRS. BARBAULD. 
 
 ABOUT a fortnight after the period of Dudley's return to the 
 city, the patience of Miss Vaughan and the good nature of the 
 whole family were put to a somewhat severe test, by an instance 
 of Mabel's generous but inconsiderate hospitality. 
 
 Some children, at the same hotel where Mrs. Leroy resided, 
 were seized with a prevailing epidemic, and Mabel, hearing 
 her sister complain of a circumstance which threatened the 
 health of the boys, cordially urged their coming to their grand 
 father's, to remain until the danger of infection should have 
 passed. The little fellows were delighted to exchange the 
 restrictions of the nursery for the freedom they enjoyed in 
 Mr. Vaughan's spacious house, and their mother was only too 
 eager to take advantage of a proposal which freed her from a 
 most unwelcome responsibility. They came at once, there 
 fore, accompanied by Lydia Hope, who, in spite of her abrupt 
 dismissal, still continued in Mrs. Leroy 's service. Louise's 
 temper being always subservient to her selfish convenience, 
 Murray's pleadings had scarcely been needed to induce her to 
 retain in her employment a girl of such unquestioned capability 
 as Lydia ; and although it was only by the exercise of great 
 self-control, that the latter could receive her mistress's con 
 cession in a becoming spirit of gratitude and humility, she felt 
 amply repaid for the effort, in the opportunity now afforded 
 her of spending some weeks in the home of her youthful bene 
 factress. 
 
 This invasion of the domestic peace was, at first, endured 
 with a very good grace by the whole household ; but Murray's 
 
92 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 riotous behaviour, and Alick's dogged obstinacy, soon gave 
 rise to difficulty and disturbance. Mr. Vaughan escaped the 
 annoyance by shutting- himself up in his library, arid Harry, 
 after amusing himself awhile by sharing the boys' noisy sports, 
 exciting their spirits, and often involving them in quarrelsome 
 disputes, would hurry oiit of the house, leaving others to reap 
 the fruits of the mischief which he had sown. Miss Sabiaii 
 and the much-tormented servants, were the chief sufferers from 
 the introduction of these unruly and rebellious inmates; for 
 Mabel, when not engrossed with other objects, seldom failed to 
 find pleasure in the companionship of her young guests. It 
 was true, she was often called upon to quiet the disputes and 
 reconcile the disagreements which were continually arising, 
 but she had a happy, careless way of settling every vexed 
 question, to the satisfaction of all parties ; and by the mingling 
 of kindness and authority, she contrived to exercise a certain 
 degree of government over her little nephews. 
 
 This restraining influence was due, in part, to the respect 
 which her consistent truthfulness inspired in children who had 
 Mtherto been subjected to a system of artifice and bribery, and 
 still more to the cordial interest with which she occasionally 
 entered into their plans, and participated in their enjoyments ; 
 for, pre-occupied as her mind might be, nothing could dispel 
 her earnest love of childhood, and her sympathy in its pleasures. 
 
 Thus, a long-talked-of sleigh-ride, to which the boys had 
 been looking forward from the commencement of the winter, 
 was anticipated with scarcely less zest by Mabel ; and the 
 snow-storm, which was its precursor, was hailed by her, as well 
 as by the children, with unfeigned satisfaction. 
 
 It commenced falling at dusk, arid the next morning the 
 entire city was decked in a rich garb of white, untrodden snow, 
 which certainly presented a tempting prospect to pleasure- 
 seekers of all ages. Before noon, Broadway and the pricipal 
 avenues were thronged with sleighs of every shape and hue, 
 which, with their joyous occupants, and eager, prancing- horses, 
 gave to the scene the aspect of a Carnival ; while among the 
 many rich and gorgeous equipages, none was to be seen more 
 graceful in its style, or more complete in its appointments, 
 than that which contained the happy, blooming Mabel and her 
 triumphant and excited little companions. 
 
 They glided rapidly up and down the principal thorough 
 fares, threading a swift course among the crowd of huge, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 93 
 
 open omnibuses, gay with decorations and laden with passen 
 gers ; fashionable turn-outs, with liveried servants, and rich 
 draperies of fur ; miniature boats, drawn by fast horses, and 
 driven by fast young men ; in a word, vehicles of all descrip 
 tions, and every grade of pretension, thus suddenly introduced 
 upon the scene of action, and rivalling one another in beauty, 
 grotesqueness, display, or speed. 
 
 * See !' cried Murray, springing to his feet in the enthu 
 siasm of his joy, * there's mamma, with Miss Vannecker, in 
 Mr. Earle's new sleigh. Drive faster, Donald !' shouted he 
 to the coachman, i drive faster, and see if we can't beat those 
 gray horses a-head !' and as they dashed gaily past Mrs. 
 Leroy's party, and, one after another, distanced all competitors, 
 Mabel was obliged to grasp the arm of the excited child, lest, 
 in the exuberance of his spirits, he should lose his balance 
 and be thrown from the sleigh. 
 
 ( Look, Aunt Mabel,' exclaimed the equally observing, but 
 more composed Alick, ' look at that beautiful little white 
 sea-shell that seems to be cutting through foam ; the wolf's 
 robe, the horse, and even the harness, as white as the snow 
 itself. Oh, that is the handsomest of all! Mr. Dudley is 
 driving, and he sees us, I am sure he does, he is trying to 
 overtake us.' 
 
 ' But he can't !' cried Murray, whose attention was at 
 tracted by this new rival ; i I'll bet he can't beat our bays, 
 won't you, Aunt Mabel ?' 
 
 ' He will, though/ said Alick, who was carefully measuring 
 the chances. 
 
 Mabel's heightened colour and kindling eye betokened the 
 interest with which she watched the race, but she was far 
 from sharing Murray's disappointment when the snow-white 
 steed gradually gained upon them ; and if she experienced 
 any mortification at the consciousness of approaching defeat, 
 there certainly was no evidence of it in the brilliant smiles 
 with which she welcomed Dudley, as the little equipage finally 
 came alongside. 
 
 The latter, on his part, seemed indisposed to make any show 
 of success ; but, satisfied with having thus achieved a parallel 
 position, continued, in spite of obstacles, to maintain it for 
 some minutes ; a species of compromise which, flattering and 
 agreeable as it might be to Mabel, was far otherwise to her 
 impetuous little nephew, who, still anxious to achieve a 
 
94 JIABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 victory, persisted in exclaiming to the coachman, * Go on, 
 Donald ! whip 'em up ! ; 
 
 The man, however, who read a contradictory order in the 
 expression of his mistress' countenance, as she responded to 
 Dudley's congratulation upon the pleasures of the day, forbore 
 pressing his horses to the top of their speed a fact of which 
 Murray soon became conscious. ' See here, Al !' exclaimed 
 he, after an interval which he had occupied in clumsily mould 
 ing a snow-ball, for which a huge drift furnished the material, 
 6 I'll make 'em go !' Then, watching an opportunity when 
 Mabel was most deeply engrossed with some object to which 
 Dudley had directed her attention, he raised himself upon the 
 front seat, and flung his missile at the head of one of the 
 horses. His aim proved as accurate as its effect was instan 
 taneous. The spirited and startled animal gave one wild 
 leap, then dashed suddenly forward ; and the panic being thus 
 communicated to its mate, the pair were, in an instant more, 
 rushing madly down the wide avenue, clearing for themselves 
 a passage through the quickly-parting throng of vehicles, but 
 utterly beyond the control or guidance of the coachman. 
 
 Meanwhile, in another part of the city, and under circum 
 stances of a wholly different character, a pair of watchful, 
 thoughtful eyes were busily engaged in scanning the various 
 individuals and scenes which came within the scope of the ob 
 server's vision. It was a limited prospect, of no very inviting 
 nature ; but, such as it was, little Rose Hope had found in it 
 material for thought and study during many a long year. The 
 dingy shop, which constituted her mother's principal support, 
 was situated in a narrow street, and the floor of the sunken 
 building was considerably below the level of the side walk. 
 Thus, the cheerful sun, which rose behind the house, and set 
 behind that on the opposite side of the street, never found its 
 way into the close, cellar-like apartment where the Widow 
 Hope sold needles, tape, and various other articles of trifling 
 value, including candy of her own manufacture. 
 
 There were two windows to this room, both fronting the 
 street. One contained samples of the widow's scanty stock in 
 trade, arranged and re-arranged many times a year, for the 
 purpose of producing a more marked effect upon her patrons, 
 but seldom diminished by an active custom, or increased by 
 dint of surplus capital. A few cards of buttons, discoloured 
 by exposure, or soiled by time; a few clay pipes, in an earthen 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 95 
 
 mug, which had long been deficient in a handle ; with here 
 and there a paper of pins, a skein of coarse thread, or a last 
 year's almanac, sufficed to give the public an intimation of 
 what might be found within. 
 
 Besides these articles of positive significance, there were 
 some little attempts at ornament, which should not be omitted, 
 as they constituted the more marked tokens of Mrs. Hope's 
 establishment. These were two clumsy wooden figures the 
 one representing a parrot, gorgeous in green and yellow paint, 
 which, in aristocratic and proud disdain of its unworthy sur 
 roundings, seemed to challenge the passer-by to remove it to 
 a more congenial sphere ; the other, a laughing, portly, old 
 sailor, who, with his hands on his sides, and his feet in the 
 position for commencing a hornpipe, appeared resolved to be 
 jolly in spite of circumstances. 
 
 But the parrot had maintained its dignity, and the sailor his 
 light-hearted ness, for years, without this commendable perse 
 verance having won a purchaser for either. 
 
 These decorations were hung out as symbols for the public 
 generally ; but for the immediate neighbourhood, the opposite 
 and ungarnished window had a deeper and far more impressive 
 meaning ; for here might invariably be seen the little arm 
 chair of the invalid child, whose emaciated face was as fami 
 liar as the day to every individual who frequented the narrow 
 street. 
 
 Few were so indifferent, so thoughtless, or so hurried, as to 
 pass the widow's shop, without bestowing a kindly glance upon 
 one who was the object of universal love and compassion. 
 Little children, on their way to school, paused a moment to 
 look smilingly up at the well-known window, assured of an 
 answering smile in return ; old women pressed their faces 
 against the glass and spoke a word of inquiry or kindness ; 
 and hard-faced men assumed a softened air while they ex 
 changed some friendly signal with Rosy. Or if, as was some 
 times the case, the arm-chair was vacant for a day, many an 
 eye missed the little invalid from her accustomed place, and 
 peering anxiously into the room beyond, wondered how it 
 fared with the child. 
 
 Thus, a good understanding had come to subsist between 
 Rose and the humble neighbourhood in which she lived ; and 
 who shall measure the priceless value of that chain of tender, 
 though often unspoken friendships, which the force of human 
 
96 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 sympathy had wrought from out of the hard material of busy 
 life? 
 
 More numerous than usual were the tokens of pleasure and 
 congratulation which greeted her on the morning after the 
 snow-storm. For some days past she had been absent from 
 the window, confined to her lied in the little room behind 
 the shop ; but this bright morning found her better, and her 
 reappearance was observed and hailed with general satisfac 
 tion. 
 
 The men who were removing the snow from the sidewalks, 
 paused now and then, and leaning on their shovels looked up, 
 as if to bespeak her approbation of their work ; the women 
 who came out with their pitchers to meet the noisy milk-boy, 
 nodded a kindly good-morning, as they caught sight of her 
 welcome countenance; and the milk-boy himself, despite his 
 somewhat surly countenance, forbore the customary harsh cry 
 as he paused at the shop door, and patiently awaited the 
 widow's coming, whistling in the meantime a popular air, and 
 glancing good-naturedly up at Rosy, as he thrashed his arms to 
 and fro to keep himself warm. 
 
 These and many other familiar greetings were responded to 
 by Rose, with her usual touching smile ; but now and then 
 some simple incident served to call up a deeper glow of ani 
 mation or pleasure. Such was the appearance of a little deaf 
 and dumb child, who was in the habit of daily presenting him 
 self at her window, tapping on the glass to attract attention, 
 then making various gesticulations of delight when Rose 
 feigned a sudden surprise at seeing him, and whose happiness 
 on this morning, reached its climax upon his being summoned 
 within to receive a bit of crisp, brown candy, which she 
 had begged for him from her mother. The little fellow 
 was one of Rose's most devoted friends ; and, among those 
 with whom she had never exchanged a word, he had but 
 one rival to her partiality. This was a tall and rosy-faced 
 youth, the driver of a heavy team, which, punctual to a 
 moment, might be regularly seen emerging from beneath an 
 opposite arch- way. 
 
 On the present occasion the passage was so much impeded 
 by snow as to create some doubt, in Rosy's mind, whether the 
 young teamster might not be deterred from venturing forth to 
 his daily duties. But no ; just as the clock struck eight, the 
 spirited leader appeared in sight, flinging the snow like powder 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 97 
 
 from his hoofs,* and tossing his wavy mane as if in defiance of 
 obstacles. The sun, which never shone on Rosy's side of the 
 street, was reflected in glittering rays from the brazen knobs 
 that ornamented the head-piece and bridle of the noble animal, 
 and which, thickly set and polished to the last degree, dangled 
 and glistened like a dandy's watch-chain. Not a whit less 
 proud were the step and bearing of the shaft-horse, a n't com 
 panion and a perfect match to the tall and well-shaped leader ; 
 and both, in truth, formed a striking contrast to the broken- 
 down and half-starved hacks which performed most of the 
 draught labour of the city. Rose had watched and hailed 
 their approach for so many successive days and months, that 
 she had come to feel a sort of ownership in the handsome 
 pair ; a sentiment which acted, perhaps, as a bond of sym 
 pathy between her and their smart young driver, who took 
 no small pride in their fine forms, glossy coats, and perfect 
 training. There was something healthy and cheery about the 
 whole establishment, and especially in the ruddy face of the 
 teamster, who, standing upright and firm, issued punctually 
 from beneath the archway, a fit type of honest labour coming 
 forth to its daily toil. 
 
 The horses always made their exit with a slow and stately 
 pace, but the moment they gained the street the lad would 
 crack his long cart-whip, with a sound which made the neigh 
 bourhood ring, but which was a token of his coming intended 
 for Rosy's ear, if one might judge by his cheerful smile and 
 wave of the hand in the direction of her window, while the 
 horses, which seldom suffered from the application of the lash, 
 pricked up their ears as if at the sound of music, and broke into 
 a brisk and voluntary trot. 
 
 To Rosy, who had no opportunity of seeing the costly equi 
 pages which were thronging the great avenues of the city, and 
 the courteous salutations which were being exchanged in the 
 world of fashion, there was nothing more imposing than the 
 bearing of these working steeds, nothing more truly kind and 
 courtly than the demeanour of her assured friend, the healthy 
 and robust teamster. 
 
 The passage of this and many similar vehicles, however, of 
 
 * With many a wanton stroke 
 
 Her feet disperse the powdery snow, 
 Which rises up like smoke. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 H 
 
98 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 clumsy construction, and moving on wheels in defiance of the 
 snow, soon had the effect of marring- the purity and roughening 
 the surface of the streets in this, the business quarter of the 
 city, and the view became gradually less fair to the eye than 
 even on ordinary occasions. The day was wearing towards 
 noon, and Rosy's eyes, dazzled by the snow and weary from 
 past sleeplessness, were closed in momentary slumber, when 
 she was startled by a rushing noise, accompanied by the sound 
 of bells in rapid motion, and a sudden cry of alarm. In a 
 moment more a pair of unmanageable horses might be seen 
 rushing furiously down the street, dragging after them a light 
 but richly ornamented sleigh, gay with showy trappings and 
 the rich dresses of its occupants. It was in vain that the 
 skilful coachman endeavoured to guide the frightened animals, 
 which bounded forward in uncontrolled terror, threatening the 
 destruction of the whole party. As they approached the 
 widow's shop their driver made a final effort to check their 
 progress, by turning them suddenly under the opposite arch 
 way, but the attempt was ineffectual; they bounded aside, 
 bringing one of the runners of the sleigh upon a heap of 
 bricks which lay just beyond the sidewalk, deceitfully covered 
 with snow, and the vehicle was at once overturned. Fortu 
 nately, however, for its inmates, they were all, with the ex 
 ception of the coachman, who still clung to his reins, thrown 
 upon a soft snow-bank in front of the shop door, and thus 
 escaped wholly uninjured. 
 
 A young lady, who was no other than Mabel, was upon her 
 feet in an instant, and without pausing to shake the snow from 
 her garments, she hastened to the assistance of Murray, who, 
 half buried in snow, was screaming lustily, but making no 
 effort to rise. Alick, however, who had, from the first 
 moment of alarm, shown a manly degree of courage and com 
 posure, had already dashed the snow from his own clothes and 
 bounded off to recover Mabel's muff, which was tossed to 
 some little distance, and the ostrich feather, which had escaped 
 from Murray's hat, and was borne by a gust of wind rapidly 
 down the street. 
 
 ' Why, what a splendid fall we have had, and how beauti 
 fully we came down in the snow, didn't we, Murray ?' ex 
 claimed Mabel, speaking in a gay tone for the encouragement 
 of her little nephew, and at the same time lifting him from his 
 soft resting-place to the side-walk ; then, as he still continued 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 99 
 
 to cry so loudly as to attract the attention of a crowd of 
 people who were rapidly collecting- around the scene of the 
 accident, she hastily lifted the latch of the widow Hope's door, 
 hesitating- whether or not to seek shelter within. At the 
 same moment she caught sight of Rosy, looking- eagerly from 
 the window and beckoning, as if inviting- them to enter. This 
 hospitable indication decided her ; arid leading Murray by 
 the hand, and calling to Alick to follow, she stepped quickly 
 into the shop too quickly, indeed, for, in her haste, she 
 failed to perceive the little step downward from the side-walk, 
 and would have fallen but for the support afforded by the 
 door-latch, while Murray, startled by the loud ringing of the 
 shop-bell, and stumbling at the unexpected descent, was thrown 
 head-foremost upon the floor. This inauspicious entrance 
 alarmed the widow Hope, whose slow movements now brought 
 her upon the scene, where her offers of assistance proved very 
 acceptable. The little party, indeed, in spite of their recent 
 deliverance from danger, were in a somewhat deplorable con 
 dition. Murray was, in reality, slightly bruised by his second 
 fall, and although he could scarcely cry any louder than he had 
 done before, he made as much tumult as possible, and required 
 all Mabel's attention. It was almost unconsciously, therefore, 
 that the latter was relieved of her cloak, now dripping with the 
 fast-melting snow, and it was not until the child was some 
 what quieted, that she even thought of attempting to remove 
 her delicate gloves, which, thoroughly soaked, were clinging 
 obstinately to her half-frozen fingers. Her bonnet, also, was 
 so crushed as to be almost shapeless ; Murray had lost a shoe ; 
 and Alick, although he made no complaint, had grazed his 
 knee against the pavement, which he had struck in falling. 
 
 These causes of discomfiture, trifling as they were, created 
 no little excitement in the contracted limits which the shop 
 afforded ; and for some minutes a general confusion prevailed, 
 of which Rose was a silent spectator, her infirmities disabling 
 her from being of any service. A chair was at length pro 
 cured from the back room for Mabel, who, disencumbered of 
 bonnet and cloak, soon made herself quite at home, with 
 Murray sitting on her knee, and now gradually becoming 
 soothed and quiet. Alick declined a low seat which was 
 offered him, and, stationing himself directly opposite Rose, 
 stood gazing at her with unmistakeable wonder and curiosity. 
 
 Mabel's only anxiety now was for the safety of the coach- 
 
 H 2 
 
100 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 man, who soon, however, appeared at the door unharmed, but 
 presenting a rueful countenance, as he informed her that his 
 master's sleigh lay an utter wreck upon the side- walk. 
 
 t No matter, Donald,' answered Mabel, promptly, < since we 
 are all safe.' 
 
 4 But what shall be done, Miss Mabel ?' inquired the man ; 
 ' how will you get home ?' 
 
 * What has become of the horses?' asked Mabel, with diffi 
 culty restraining a smile at the man's utterly disconcerted 
 countenance. 
 
 * They are just at the end of the street, Miss, at a poor 
 kind of a livery-stable, but there isn't a sleigh to be had 
 hereabouts none, sartain, that would be fit for you and the 
 young gentlemen. I'm afeard Mr. Harry will be a good deal 
 disappointed, Miss, when he sees what a smash-up we've had 
 down yonder. 5 
 
 ' Oh, never mind that !' said Mabel, good-naturedly ; c you 
 did the best you could, Donald. Mr. Harry will be only too 
 glad to see us home in safety.' And having learned that the 
 horses were uninjured, and quite sobered from their recent 
 fright, she suggested that Donald should lead them back to 
 their stable, inform the family of what had occurred, and return 
 with the carriage for herself and the boys. 
 
 The man hesitated expressed a fear that it would take a 
 long time to accomplish this, especially as wheels would not 
 run well on the snow ; and at the same time looked around 
 the dark shop, as if he considered it a very unworthy place of 
 refuge for his young mistress ; but Mabel, understanding the 
 look, declared herself quite content to remain in her present 
 quarters during whatever time might be required : ' That is,' 
 continued she, turning with true courtesy to Mrs. Hope, ' if 
 our good friend will give us permission to stay so long.' 
 
 The pale, rigid features of the widow assumed an expression 
 that might be pronounced sincere, if not positively cordial, as, 
 in answer to this appeal, she expressed in a few words her 
 desire to accommodate, and make them as comfortable as 
 possible in so poor a place. 
 
 Thus assured, Mabel dismissed the man, calling to him, 
 however, just as he was leaving the shop, and adding, ' Donald, 
 tell Lydia that I should like to have her come in the carriage ; 
 and ask her to bring a pair of shoes for Murray, and my cloth 
 cloak.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 101 
 
 f Mother,' exclaimed Rose, drawing a deep breath the 
 moment the door was closed, and speaking as if giving vent to 
 suppressed feeling, l Mother, it is her ! it's Miss Mabel !' 
 
 Mabel turned and looked at the sick child in utter astonish 
 ment at this unexpected recognition. 
 
 * Aunty/ said Alick, approaching Mabel's side and speaking 
 in a whisper, * I shouldn't wonder if that girl was Rose 
 Lydia's sister Rose/ 
 
 4 What makes you think so ?' asked Mabel, speaking aloud 
 and glancing at Rose as she spoke. 
 
 * I know it is/ answered Alick, confirming the remark 
 by a confident nodding of his head; 'she's just so little, 
 and ill, and good, and sits all day in an arm-chair with a 
 pillow in it.' 
 
 Mabel rose and moved her seat nearer to that of Rose, at 
 the same time displacing Murray from her knee. ' Alick 
 thinks/ said she, laying her hand on the arm of Rose's chair, 
 6 that this is little Rose Hope ; and I begin to think so, too/ 
 added she, observing the ray of pleasure which overspread 
 Rosy's face at her words. 
 
 The fact certainly needed no other confirmation than that 
 expressed in the little invalid's countenance, as she discovered 
 the recognition to be mutual. ' Only think/ exclaimed she 
 to her mother, who was incredulously surveying her visitors, 
 * of my seeing Miss Mabel ! What will Lyddy say ? O, 
 mother ! what will she say when she comes in the carriage !' 
 
 Mabel, amused and gratified at the child's enthusiasm, 
 hastened to express her own sense of the good fortune which 
 had brought her to the shop of Lydia's mother, and won that 
 mother's heart by the friendly interest with which she spoke 
 of her daughter's capability and faithfulness. 
 
 Meantime Alick, contrary to his usual custom with strangers, 
 entered into eager conversation with Rose, betraying, in a 
 rapid series of questions, a knowledge of the sick child's tastes, 
 habits, and character, which, together with his unwonted 
 sociability, astonished Mabel, who was unaware of the interest 
 which Lydia's description of her sister had awakened in the 
 mind of the thoughtful boy. 
 
 * Is that your slate ?' asked he, glancing at one which lay 
 on the wide window-sill, and whose well-worn frame and 
 scanty bit of pencil attested the frequency of its use ; ' and is 
 this what has been sold to-day?' he added, pointing to a neat 
 
102 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 list of figures in one corner. Then, having received an 
 affirmative reply to both inquiries, he continued, ' That's 
 your big Bible it's a real old one, isn't it ? But here's 
 a cunning little book,' and he eagerly seized her 'Daily 
 Pood,' which was seldom absent from her side, and opening 
 at the first page commenced reading, but seemed disappointed 
 in its contents, as he quickly threw it aside and looked about 
 him for other objects of interest. 
 
 'Don't trouble the little girl, Alick,' interposed Mabel, 
 who was struck with Rose's pallor and evident feebleness ; 
 4 you must remember she is ill and will not like to be tired 
 with questions.' 
 
 4 O, no, no ! he will not tire me,' said Rose, disclaiming 
 such a possibility with an earnestness which seemed to beseech 
 Mabel not to repress his curiosity. 
 
 Alick's eye now fell upon a rough wooden box, upon which 
 he pounced with an eagerness that denoted a knowledge of its 
 contents. ' These are the jack-straws, ar'n't they ?' said he, 
 looking inquiringly in Rose's face, as he vainly tried to 
 remove the cover. 
 
 Rose assured him that he was right, and taking the box 
 from his hand, she slid aside its ingenious fastening, and 
 emptied the neat little articles upon the window-sill for his 
 easier inspection. 
 
 Alick had jack-straws of his own, but they did not compare 
 with Rosy's in variety, number, or neatness of finish. ' Here's 
 the bow !' exclaimed he, as if he recognised a familiar object, 
 ' it's finished, and it's a beauty ! But where is the arrow ? 
 hasn't Jack made the arrow yet ?' 
 
 ' Yes, he made one last evening,' answered Rose ; e but it 
 was too slender, arid it got broken ; I guess he'll make another 
 to-night.' 
 
 Murray's attention was by this time attracted. He had 
 hitherto stood at a distance, out of humour and disdainful, but 
 he now came forward a few steps, and leaning on Mabel's 
 knee, stood on tiptoe and peered over Alick's shoulder at the 
 toys. Rose perceived the motion, and, gently drawing aside, 
 made room for him between herself and the window. Alick 
 was disposed to keep him at a distance and engross the enjoy 
 ment of the jack-straws, but yielded at once to Rose's gentle 
 remonstrance, ' Let Murray see, too, Alick.' 
 
( 103 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 No mortal doth know 
 
 What he can bestow, 
 What light, strength, and comfort, do after him go; 
 
 Lo ! onward I move, 
 
 And, but Christ above, 
 None guesses how wondrous the journey will prove. 
 
 GAMBOLD. 
 
 A BRISK conversation, consisting for the most part of ques 
 tions and answers, was now maintained between the three chil 
 dren ; Rose every now and then stealing- a glance at Mabel, 
 who was observing the little trio with evident interest. Mrs. 
 Hope had returned to some employment in the kitchen, which 
 had been interrupted by the arrival of her visitors, and Mabel 
 sat quietly watching the progress of this singular intercourse 
 between the children, responding to Rose's occasional glances 
 by a smile of approval and encouragement. She would gladly 
 have taken part in the conversation and expressed in some 
 way her sympathy with Rosy's misfortunes, but she found her 
 self disconcerted at the first attempt, being utterly at a loss 
 how to treat a child whose serious gravity inspired a respect 
 scarcely warranted by her years, and the patient contentment 
 of whose countenance forbade the pity which her infirmities 
 would otherwise have awakened. So she left it to the boys to 
 draw out the singular characteristics of their novel acquaint 
 ance, an office for which they proved themselves amply com 
 petent. 
 
 Rose explained to them the use of various articles of which 
 the jack-straws furnished models, interesting the boys by the 
 clearness of her descriptions, and astonishing Mabel by the 
 intelligence they displayed. Things which could never, by 
 any possibility, have come within the sick child's observation 
 gardening utensils, carpenters' and joiners' tools, and even com- 
 
104 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 plicated pieces of machinery, were explained and their pur 
 poses illustrated, with a force and accuracy which fascinated 
 the attention of Alick, and even imparted information to Mabel, 
 while Murray stood leaning on Rose's knee in a listening 1 atti 
 tude, his eyes fixed reverently on the face of their youthful 
 entertainer, who sat winding" his long glossy curls around her 
 thin and wasted ringers. 
 
 It was certainly an incongruous group thus assembled in the 
 widow's shop. The sons of wealth, in gay attire and radiant 
 with health and vitality, drinking in knowledge at the feet of 
 one who, reared in poverty, wasted by disease, and isolated 
 from the world, formed a no less striking contrast to her youth 
 ful listeners, from the superiority of her mental powers. 
 
 Perhaps Mabel felt conscious of the mortifying deficiencies 
 in her sister's children, for she asked herself, for the first time, 
 how it happened that the boys had never been sent to school, 
 and had been suffered to remain in such deplorable ignorance. 
 
 That they were not destitute of intellect, however, was evi 
 dent from the interest which they both manifested in Rosy's 
 engaging conversation ; and the subjects to which the jack-straws 
 had given rise, might have engrossed the whole period of their 
 stay, had not their attention been at length attracted by another 
 object. 
 
 A sudden movement caused Alick to hit his head against a 
 sharp corner, and looking up he espied Rosy's engraving, 
 which, removed from the little bed-room, hnng against the 
 window-frame. He immediately claimed acquaintance with 
 it. ' Your picture !' cried he, < the picture of little Pilgrim 
 and the angels ! Let me see it do ! Lydia has told me 
 about that ;' and he stretched forth his hand to snatch it from 
 the nail where it hung. It was beyond his reach, however, 
 and Mabel, after asking Rose's consent, assisted him in taking 
 it down, and placing it in an upright position on the window- 
 sill. 
 
 As she did so she observed the chaste richness of its oval 
 frame ; and when she resumed her seat, and for the first time 
 saw the picture in a good light, she was struck with the ex 
 quisite finish of the engraving, and the simple beauty of the 
 subject. 
 
 * Where did you get it?' asked Alick, who, like Mabel, 
 perceived at once how inconsistent it seemed to be with its 
 surroundings. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 105 
 
 c It was brought to the hospital while I was there trying to 
 be cured. It belonged to a young gentleman ; and a lady, who 
 was one of the directresses, brought it there for me to see. 
 She left it. for a week hanging at the foot of my bed, and then 
 it was that the doctor said I never could be cured, and might 
 as well come home again. I had got very fond of the picture, 
 it told me stories and kept me company, and so, because I 
 loved it, and because I never could be cured, the gentleman 
 (I think it was the lady's son) sent word for me to keep it 
 always/ 
 
 'Wasn't he good?' exclaimed Alick, with feeling, at the 
 same time looking anxiously into the face of Rose, from whose 
 eyes, as she recalled the past, one or two tears had escaped 
 and were slowly trickling down her cheeks. 
 
 ' What tells a story ?' asked Murray, pulling at Rose's 
 sleeve l Can the picture speak ?' 
 
 4 It speaks to me,' answered Rose, smiling sweetly through 
 her tears. ' I can't tell you all it says, but some of the stories 
 are very plain to be seen, don't you think so ?' 
 
 ' I don't,' answered Murray, with a dissatisfied air, while 
 Alick carefully examined the picture. 
 
 1 Why, you see,' said Rose, ' that is little Pilgrim going a 
 journey, and those three angels go with him.' Here Rose 
 paused, and looked inquiringly and diffidently into the face of 
 Mabel, as if seeking encouragement to continue the story. 
 Mabel answered by rising so as to obtain a better view, while 
 she herself listened attentively to Rose's description of her 
 picture. 
 
 Rose went on. ' That is Hope,' said she, pointing to a 
 cherub figure peering above the clouds, with its hand out 
 stretched, and its eye fixed upon a light spot in the distance, 
 which seemed intended to represent the glow of a brilliant 
 sunset. 
 
 ' And what does he say ?' asked Murray. 
 
 ' Oh, he says, " Keep up a good heart, little Pilgrim." ' 
 
 * And what is that one's name ?' inquired Alick, pointing 
 to another on the right, whose head was thrown back, while 
 both eye and hand were turned heavenward in an attitude of 
 rapt devotion. 
 
 That is Faith/ replied Rose, ' and he says, "Trust in God." ' 
 
 c But that is the prettiest,' said Murray, eagerly, placing 
 his finger on the central figure, whose eyes were downward 
 
106 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 bent, and whose hand was pointing earthward, while the coun 
 tenance was illumined with the benignant smile of a pure 
 benevolence. 
 
 * Yes, that is the prettiest,' said Rose, ' arid the best ; that 
 is Charity, or Love, for it goes by both names.' 
 
 ' We'll call it Love, then,' said Alick, won't we ?' 
 
 * Yes/ said Rose, ' that is Love/ 
 
 ' Arid what does Love say to Pilgrim ?' continued Alick. 
 
 * Oh, a great many things,' answered Rose. ' It tells him 
 to lend a helping hand to everybody he meets on the way, 
 and do all the good he can, and be patient, and gentle, and 
 kind.' 
 
 ' And is he ? Does he do it ?' 
 Yes, indeed.' 
 
 * How do you know ?' 
 
 ' Can't you see ?' asked Rose ; ' it is all told in the picture.' 
 
 The boys looked intently so did Mabel but neither de 
 tected the proofs which seemed so evident to Rosy. Mabel 
 kept silent, but the boys confessed their ignorance. 
 
 ' Don't you see,' said Rose, after a pause, * all the flowers 
 that have sprung up behind him as he goes ? the path is dark, 
 and overhung with brushwood, so that he cannot see a step 
 before him on the road ; but look where his feet have worn 
 that little track, and you will see all along beside it the 
 flowers that he has strewn there. Some have taken root and 
 grown up tall ; there is a rose that has nearly climbed to the 
 top of that high tree. How sweet it will smell to the next 
 traveller that comes along that way ! Those are his virtues,' 
 added Rose, after another pause, during which her listeners 
 stood carefully scanning the objects she had pointed out ; ' it 
 was Charity that went with him and helped him strew the 
 flowers, don't you see he has a basket in his hand ? that con 
 tains the roots and seeds, and Charity shows him the best 
 places to plant them in, and how to make them grow.' 
 
 ' He's got a cane/ said Murray ' what does he carry a 
 cane for ?' 
 
 Rose looked up at Mabel and smiled. ' That is the staff of 
 faith/ said she ; * he leans on it when he is tired.' 
 
 ' Where is he going ?' asked Alick. ' Is it a long journey ?' 
 
 * Not very long ; some people find it very short. He is 
 going to that city in the distance ; don't you see it with the 
 light shining on its walls and towers ? That is the eternal 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 107 
 
 city, Alick the city of our God,' added she, solemnly, lay 
 ing her thin hand on Alick's arm ; ' we are all travelling on 
 the same road as Pilgrim, and we must try to strew flowers 
 behind us as we go.' 
 
 Children are always much impressed with anything in the 
 nature of an allegory. They wholly understand the actual 
 story, while they often catch a dim conception of its hidden 
 meaning. Murray was only capable of comprehending the 
 former, but Alick caught an idea faint indeed, but still im 
 pressive in its character of the lesson which Rose's story had 
 partially revealed to his untaught soul ; and Mabel, who, in 
 spite of good principles and high aspirations, was a child in 
 religious experience, felt awed by the simple teachings of 
 virtue, and subdued by the sublime power of truth. Thus 
 Rose herself had unconsciously planted seed by the wayside ; 
 and who shall tell when and how such seed may spring up 
 into everlasting life ? 
 
 There was a silence in the little company for a short time 
 after Rose had finished ; then Murray yawned, as children 
 will yawn when they have been agreeably entertained and 
 find the entertainment suddenly withdrawn. ' How soon are 
 we going home ?' asked he of Mabel. ' I'm hungry.' 
 
 f Hush !' said Mabel softly, unwilling to make further claim 
 upon the widow's hospitality by the expression of any new 
 wants ; ' we shall go soon ; it is time for Donald to be here 
 now;' then bethinking herself of the best mode of repaying 
 those attentions which she had already received, she proposed 
 to make some purchases from the widow's stock. It was diffi 
 cult to make a selection of articles in any degree appropriate 
 to her station in life, Mrs. Hope's goods being intended for the 
 accommodation of her own humble neighbourhood. With the 
 children's assistance, however, she contrived to expend, in 
 trifling purchases, all the money she had in her purse ; and 
 Murray had just received into his arms the gorgeous, but 
 long-neglected parrot, when the shop door was suddenly 
 thrown open, and Lydia entered with a flushed and excited 
 countenance. 
 
 She was laden with shawls and wrappers, which, in addition 
 to the articles sent for by Mabel, had been despatched by her 
 anxious aunt, and was so breathless with haste and astonish 
 ment that Mabel strove in vain to obtain from her an intelli 
 gent reply to her inquiries, what had become of the coach- 
 
108 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 man and horses, arid why she herself had come thither on 
 foot. 
 
 The half-laughing, half-crying girl, overjoyed at the safety 
 of Mabel and the children, and excited to the last degree by 
 the circumstance of their having taken refuge in her mother's 
 shop, could only embrace Rose and the boys by turns, uttering, 
 meanwhile, interjectional phrases, expressive of her own and 
 Miss Sabiah's fears, and the prompt action of Mr. Dudley, 
 whose name was strangely mingled with her exclamations. 
 
 Finding it impossible to calm her, Mabel hastily opened 
 the shop door, to satisfy herself whether or not the carriage 
 was in sight, and as she did so, encountered Dudley at the very 
 threshold. She blushed with pleased surprise, not having in 
 the least understood Lydia's broken communication, and the 
 colour deepened in her cheeks when he seized her hand with 
 an eagerness that betrayed his anxiety on her account, an 
 anxiety which evidently had not been wholly quieted by 
 Donald's assurance of her safety. His fears were wholly 
 allayed, however, at the sight of her smiles, and she now 
 learned that the carriage awaited them at some little distance, 
 Mr. Dudley having judged it imprudent to venture on wheels 
 into the narrow, crowded street, encumbered as it was with 
 snow. 
 
 He also informed her, in few words, that he had pursued 
 her sleigh as long as he could keep the frantic horses in sight, 
 and then, not being able to recover their track, had, after a 
 fruitless search, hastened to Mr. Vaughan's house, hoping 
 that, though the frightened animals were beyond the coach 
 man's control, instinct would guide them thither. He arrived 
 but a few moments in advance of Donald, and having learned 
 from him the welcome tidings of her safety, resolved still 
 further to assure himself of it by accompanying him on his 
 return to the spot where she had found shelter. 
 
 1 What a wretched place you have been obliged to wait in !' 
 exclaimed he, looking down into the low, dark shop, and 
 seeming to shrink from its close atmosphere. 
 
 6 We have been hospitably, and even agreeably, entertained 
 here,' answered Mabel ; ' the boys and I have made the 
 acquaintance of a sick child, who proves to be the sister of 
 their nurse ; she is an interesting little creature, do come in 
 and see her, Mr. Dudley.' 
 
 ' The room seems to be pretty well stocked already, in pro- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 109 
 
 portion to its dimensions,' answered Dudley, smiling', ( espe 
 cially as you pronounce it to be a sick-room ; and in view of 
 the latter fact, Miss Mabel, I feel bound in conscience to 
 hurry you away from this miserable place. I have made my 
 self responsible to Miss Vaughan for your safe return, and a 
 heated, distempered air may sometimes prove as fatal as a pair 
 of runaway horses.' 
 
 Mabel made haste to repel this suggestion, assuring Dudley 
 that the child's illness was chronic, and not of a contagious 
 character, and that the room, though naturally close, from its 
 low, damp situation, was otherwise comfortable, and in all 
 respects neat. 
 
 He smiled complacently at the warmth with which she de 
 fended her place of refuge from unjust aspersions, and, as if to 
 satisfy her that he had no fears on his own account, stepped 
 within the door, and still holding it ajar awaited her pleasure. 
 
 As there was no motive for further delay, the little party 
 were not long in making ready to depart ; especially as Mabel 
 had previously resumed her cloak and bonnet, now restored 
 by Mrs. Hope's care to their original appearance, and Lydia 
 had recovered her composure and partially equipped the boys 
 for their return home. Mabel was much touched at the deep 
 feeling evinced by Rose, as she spoke her simple farewell, 
 expressing in a few words how happy the visit had made her, 
 and pressing Mabel's hand to her lips with mingled respect 
 and fervour. ' I will come again, Rose,' said Mabel, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 She would gladly have said more, being anxious to testify 
 in some way the tender sympathy she felt for the little invalid. 
 But Dudley stood looking on ; he would mentally accuse her 
 of affectation or parade ; so she contented herself with the 
 promise to repeat her visit, and with a lightly-spoken good 
 bye, took her friend's offered arm to accompany him to the 
 carriage, leaving the boys to follow with Lydia. 
 
 1 The fresh air is really delightful,' exclaimed she, as the 
 clear, wintry breeze, tempered by the warmth of a noon-day 
 sun, fanned her cheek, which was slightly feverish with the 
 excitement of the morning. 
 
 1 If I may be allowed to advise, and you will pardon 
 whatever there may be of selfishness in the suggestion,' said 
 her companion, ; I should declare a walk home preferable 
 to a drive, under existing circumstances.' 
 
110 ^lABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 The sight of the carriage, which they had now reached, 
 served to enforce Dudley's opinion. The wheels were so 
 clogged with snow that it was evident they could move but 
 slowly, and in a lumbering manner, through the streets, and 
 as Alick also expressed a preference for walking, it was 
 decided that Murray and Lydia should proceed in the carriage, 
 and the other continue up Broadway on foot. 
 
 Although the hour passed in the widow's humble dwelling 
 had been replete with interest, the sudden change from the 
 confined atmosphere and narrow limits of the shop to the 
 bracing air, active exercise, and brilliant spectacle afforded by 
 the crowded street, had a corresponding effect upon the spirits 
 of Alick and Mabel. The former, whose movements were 
 usually slow and languid, trod with a light step, as if rejoic 
 ing in an unwonted share of liberty, which he was, in truth, 
 experiencing, since it was rarely that he went out on foot, 
 except for a short and monotonous walk with Lydia. Avail 
 ing himself of the license afforded on the present occasion, he 
 would now and then pause to survey at his leisure whatever 
 object attracted his attention, and then bounding forward, 
 overtake his somewhat careless protectors, who, engrossed 
 with each other, left him at liberty to do as he pleased ; a 
 freedom of which, however, he took no undue advantage. 
 Mabel, meanwhile, flattered by Dudley's marked interest in 
 her safety, and rejoicing in the exuberance of youthful spirits, 
 excited the increased admiration of her companion by the 
 variety of her conversation and her natural and eager enjoy 
 ment of the gay, wintry scene. It was, in truth, the simple 
 and unperverted freshness of this child of nature which had 
 captivated the experienced man of the world. The inborn 
 dignity, grace, and animated sweetness of manner, which had 
 fitted her to take at once a distinguished place in society, 
 might have existed independently of that child-like enthu 
 siasm which was, perhaps, the most interesting feature of her 
 character : but this latter trait had at once been discerned by 
 Dudley, and, cautious as he was of yielding to impressions, 
 its charm had completely fascinated him. So true it is, that 
 a mutual attraction often exists between contrasts. 
 
 The prevailing character of the incidents in which their 
 walk invited them to participate, was that of mirth and 
 laughter ; but an opportunity soon occurred for the further 
 and more complete development of Mabel's ready and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. Ill 
 
 universal sympathies. At just that point in Broadway where 
 the crowd was most dense, and their movements the most 
 hurried, our party suddenly encountered a little boy, ragged, 
 dirty, and bending beneath the weight of an old basket filled 
 with half-burnt coals. The little urchin was directly in the 
 path of the throng of foot passengers, who were hurrying up 
 and down the side-walk, and in endeavouring to avoid a col 
 lision, he stumbled and fell upon one knee, striking his 
 burden heavily upon the pavement. The time-worn and 
 shattered basket had hardly held together before, and now, as 
 he lifted it to resume his progress, it gave way entirely, and 
 its whole contents were scattered in the deep snow which 
 bordered the side- walk. Some of the passers-by laughed, some 
 looked compassionately over their shoulders, and one or t\vo 
 paused for an instant, out of curiosity, to see whether the boy 
 would attempt to repair the misfortune. 
 
 * Oh ! poor little fellow !' exclaimed Mabel, who reached 
 the spot at the moment of the accident, and whose compassion 
 was at once excited by the expression of blank dismay which 
 overspread his childish face at the sight of his lost and wasted 
 property. 
 
 The boy, hearing a kindly voice, and seeing the shadow of 
 some person who evinced a pitying interest by coming to a full 
 stop, looked up from the wreck on which his gaze had been 
 hitherto fixed, and met the glance of Mabel's eye with such a 
 look of appeal, as went straight to her heart. It was an inno 
 cent countenance, and a sad one, and told a story of want and 
 disappointment somewhere. 
 
 6 It's a pity !' said Mabel, glancing from the face of the boy 
 to the spilt coal and useless basket ; and, as the mournful eyes, 
 now fast filling with tears, still spoke a touching entreaty, a 
 moisture gathered in her own, and her hand, as usual, sought 
 her pocket. 
 
 Alick, who had been lingering behind, now came up, and, 
 with childhood's quick instinct, reading the whole story, ex 
 claimed eagerly and confidently, ' Oh, Aunt Mabel, do give 
 him some money P 
 
 But alas, the purse was empty ; the money had all been 
 spent at the widow's shop ! The consciousness of this did not 
 flash upon Mabel, until she had drawn the little silver reticule 
 from her pocket, and exposed her destitution ; then, blushing 
 with mortification and disappointment, at having encouraged 
 
112 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 the child's hopes, to dash them the next instant, she turned to 
 Dudley, supposing that the act had awakened his observation, 
 and would induce him to supply her deficiencies by a prompt 
 contribution on his part. But the case seemed not to have 
 touched his sympathies, at least not in such a way as to con 
 duce to the boy's benefit. He stood at the distance of a step 
 or two, quietly surveying the scene with an interested and 
 amused air, and, although manifesting no impatience, seemed 
 to be viewing Mabel's proceedings as those of a capricious 
 child indulging a wayward impulse. 
 
 Mabel could not be sure whether he perceived her em 
 barrassment ; but it being very evident that he felt no dispo 
 sition to charity, she was reluctantly compelled to restore her 
 purse to her pocket, and leave the child to bear his misfortune 
 as he best might, with no other encouragement than that con 
 veyed in a kind word. ' My money is all gone/ said she ; 
 ' I am sorry, perhaps some other lady will give you a six 
 pence/ 
 
 She spoke confusedly, and with evident regret, which in 
 creased to actual pain, as the little fellow replied, with sad 
 simplicity, ' It's very hard to find a lady that'll give me a 
 sixpence/ 
 
 Grieved as she felt for the little fellow, there was nothing 
 more to be said or done, and the next moment she was con 
 tinuing her walk, exchanging salutations with gay friends, and 
 listening to Dudley's conversation. 
 
 Alick stayed behind a moment, to scan the boy's face with 
 his ever-curious eyes, and solace his disappointment, if possible, 
 by saying, ' She has spent all her money, I have not got any 
 either it's too bad/ 
 
 'Your compassion is awake I see, Miss Vaughan, like every 
 other amiable emotion,' said Dudley, as they proceeded up the 
 street. ' You are new to scenes like that yonder, but you 
 will soon, I fear, become accustomed to them, if you go out 
 frequently in New York, especially on foot/ 
 
 * Oh, I have seen a great many miserable objects already,' 
 said Mabel ; ' enough to make my heart ache ; but that little 
 fellow interested me particularly, he had such a plaintive look ;' 
 and Mabel sighed, as her thoughts again recurred to the un 
 spoken appeal which had moved her so forcibly. 
 
 ' That boy had rather a beautiful countenance,' said Dudley ; 
 ' he reminded me of a most exquisite group I saw in Florence 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 113 
 
 last winter, Picciotti's Beggars. I wish you could see that 
 piece of statuary, Miss Vaughan I am sure you would appre 
 ciate it; it is his masterpiece a wonderful work of art! I 
 was struck immediately with that boy's resemblance to the 
 younger of the two beggars/ 
 
 4 He was not a beggar !' exclaimed Alick, who had joined 
 them unobserved, and caught Dudley's last word only. * He 
 didn't ask for anything !' 
 
 1 There are various kinds of begging,' responded Dudley, 
 replying to Alick's remark, though not looking at him, or ap 
 pearing to observe from what quarter the suggestion had pro 
 ceed, for he seldom took much notice of children. i That is 
 the most specious, certainly, which addresses itself to the eye 
 and not the ear. That stroke was capitally executed, how 
 ever/ added he, laughing good-humouredly ; ' it would have 
 done credit to one of the junior members of the Ravel troupe. 
 It is astonishing how quickly those little practitioners become 
 adepts in their art.' 
 
 1 Why, you surely do not think ' exclaimed Mabel, in sur 
 prise 
 
 * That that was an accident done on purpose ?' said Dudley, 
 in continuation of her query, and smiling at her genuine asto 
 nishment ; * perhaps so perhaps not ;' and he shrugged his 
 shoulders expressively. ' At all events/ continued he, as if 
 hesitating to pronounce decisively in the present instance, t we 
 will not be severe upon him, since your judgment is evidently 
 in his favour, Miss Vaughan ; but these artifices to excite 
 sympathy are, no doubt, very common. Modern institutions 
 are partially responsible for it ; they cry out against street 
 begging, and street cunning rises up iri its stead. Ah, they 
 manage these things much better abroad ! a few bajocchi will 
 disperse an Italian rabble, and there is the end of it but here, 
 society is to be reorganized, poverty put down, and I don't 
 know what not. Very well ; I am willing to give philan 
 thropists a fair chance for my part but if they will put re 
 strictions on our benevolence, the poor must take the conse 
 quences, I suppose, if they starve.' 
 
 And having thus involved what had previously seemed a 
 simple appeal to charity, into a complicated case of political 
 economy, Dudley gracefully and easily waived any further con 
 sideration of the difficult question, by resuming his analysis of 
 the merits of Picciotti's Beggars, and leading Mabel's thoughts 
 
 I 
 
114 MABEL VAUGHAK 
 
 into the wide field of beauty and of art. Here he was 
 completely at home ; and, with his wonderful gift at descrip 
 tion, and his unrivalled and varied powers of entertainment, 
 he completely enchained her attention for the remainder of 
 the walk. 
 
 That evening, however, as she stood in front of a brilliant 
 fire which was burning in the dining-room, and heard the 
 cold wind whistle round the corner of the house, she thought 
 again, of the little boy and the spilt coals. He might be an 
 impostor, the very prince of rogues, but, despite her reason, 
 instinct and good heart whispered otherwise, and, do what she 
 would to restrain them, painful visions rose before her of 
 dreary garrets, where half-starved children and despairing 
 mothers crouched beneath scanty coverings, and cried and 
 shivered with the cold. 
 
 Mabel's experience and knowledge would not warrant her 
 in deciding the comparative claims of beggars and philan 
 thropists ; but one thing at least was certain, misused as her 
 bounty might have been by the boy, its bestowal would have 
 left a blessing with the giver. As it was, she could only 
 sigh for the poverty which was beyond her reach, and soothe 
 her regret with the newly-awakened idea, that a too liberal 
 distribution of money was dangerous, and might defeat the 
 best interests of society. Not that she could persuade herself 
 that it would have done harm in the present case, for she felt 
 an honest conviction of the truthfulness of her first impressions. 
 Who shall say, however, that her heart warmed as teadily 
 towards the next child of misfortune that came in her path ? 
 or that the spirit of distrust once awakened in her hitherto 
 unsuspecting bosom could be easily laid to rest ? Eosy was 
 right in saying, that we need in life's pathway an angel 
 guide, to teach us where to plant the flowers of charity. 
 Alas for earth's youthful pilgrims, when a cold and worldly 
 calculation banishes the gentle spirit of human love and 
 sympathy ! More fatal still, when the sister spirits of faith 
 and hope give place to gloomy doubts and discouraging 
 suspicions. 
 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "Who scoffs these sympathies, 
 Makes mock of the divinity within ; 
 Nor feels he gently through his breathing soul 
 
 The universal spirit. R. H. DANA. 
 
 AMONG the engagements of the following week, there was 
 one of a somewhat different character from the gay assemblies 
 which constituted the chief social enjoyment of Mabel's circle. 
 This was a party given on occasion of some family anniversary, 
 by a lady of high position, whose wealth, accomplishments, 
 and superior cultivation, gave her an undisputed pre-eminence 
 in the eyes both of people of consequence and of those who 
 considered themselves [such. 
 
 Even Mr. Vaughan was induced to accept an invitation to 
 a house where he would be sure to meet many guests of his 
 own age, and no small number of persons distinguished in the 
 literary and political world. Louise was not willing to lose 
 the honour of being present at an entertainment where the 
 company would undeniably be the most select the city afforded. 
 Harry, while he voted these old Knickerbocker affairs pretty 
 slow concerns, declared it an object to see things done in good 
 style for once and away ; and Mabel, for all these reasons 
 combined, and perhaps, also, from the knowledge that the. 
 hostess was a near connection of Dudley's, looked forward to 
 the evening with unusual interest. 
 
 Miss Sabiah was seldom included in the numerous invitations 
 received by her brother's family, not from any intentional 
 slight, but because she had systematically avoided becoming 
 generally known as an inmate of the household, and had 
 nervously shrunk from being found in the drawing-room on 
 reception days. She would never have dreamed, however, of 
 mingling in society ; and was satisfied, for her part, with the 
 simple enjoyment derived from the sight of her favourite 
 
 i2 
 
116 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Mabel, richly attired, and appearing, on each newoccasion, more 
 beautiful in the eyes of her aunt. Therefore on the evening 
 in question, she experienced no small satisfaction from the 
 survey of a superb dress, worn for the first time by Mabel, and 
 her elation reached its height as she observed the ill-concealed 
 envy which it awakened in Louise, who entered the dressing- 
 room just as her sister's toilette was completed. It was no 
 wonder that the partizan spirit of the aunt was gratified, for 
 Mabel certainly outshone herself. 
 
 She wore a white-flounced silk, each flounce being bordered 
 with a pattern of delicately-wrought green leaves and half- 
 blown roses, and the graceful garland of flowers on her hair 
 was in perfect harmony with the Parisian fabric. The waist 
 fitted closely to the throat, where a collar of point-lace was 
 fastened with a brilliant spray of diamonds ; and sleeves of the 
 same delicate material as the collar lightly draped her well- 
 rounded arms. 
 
 Louise, whose little, fairy-like form never looked so well as 
 in the light and gossamer fabrics in which she floated or 
 whirled through the dance, felt a sharp pang of jealousy, as 
 she noted the almost regal figure of her sister, set off to advan 
 tage by the closely-fitting and heavy material which would 
 have severely tested a less exquisite shape than Mabel's. 
 
 i I hate to go to these half-and-half parties,' said she, in a 
 sharp and irritable tone, as she drew out the folds of her 
 velvet dress to give it a more graceful flow, and straitening 
 her figure at the mirror, tried to believe herself just the right 
 height, and Mabel a little too tall. ' One has to dress up as 
 if afraid of the rheumatism, and no wonder, for if ever people 
 do take cold, it is from standing round in corners, as we shall 
 do to-night. It will be shockingly stupid. I've half a mind 
 not to go ;' and although she could not resolve to stay away 
 from an entertainment which anybody else thought worth 
 attending, Louise contrived by her ill-humour to make herself 
 and every one about her so uncomfortable, that her friends 
 were glad at last to arrive at their destination, and to see her 
 established in one of the corners she had spoken of, where, 
 with Victoria. Vannecker, and a little knot of companions, she 
 amused herself with making comments upon the company. 
 
 The assembly was not large, and there was no music, but, 
 as Harry had foreseen, everything was conducted in good taste, 
 and spacious^ and superb as were the house and furniture, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 117 
 
 nothing gave evidence of unusual ornament, or an attempt at 
 display. 
 
 Some of the company had evidently been their hostess' 
 guests at dinner, and coffee was passed round promiscuously at 
 quite a late hour. 
 
 This circumstance, and the fact that the size and number 
 of the rooms thrown open afforded opportunity for the dis 
 persion of the visitors into little knots, gave the whole assem 
 blage the air of a somewhat overgrown tea-party. A feu- 
 elderly gentlemen, grouped together on the hearth-rug, and 
 occasionally sipping their coffee, were holding a political dis 
 cussion ; and a similar association of literary friends were 
 laughing heartily at a series of amusing anecdotes related by 
 one of their number. A travelled lady and a boyish artist 
 were examining a book of etchings together ; and a group of 
 youths and girls, scarcely beyond childhood, had taken pos 
 session of the music-room, and while one played the piano, the 
 rest were having a merry dance. 
 
 These, and various other social scenes, were indicative of 
 the different ages, tastes, and characters which were blended 
 in the company ; and although nonsense, scandal, and ill- 
 natured criticism were not without their representatives, they 
 instinctively felt themselves out of their sphere, and kept in 
 the background ; while the assembly, as a whole, was emi 
 nently distinguished for harmony, elegance, good breeding, 
 and refinement. 
 
 Mabel felt, from the first moment of her entrance, the total 
 dissimilarity between this and most of the fashionable parties 
 which she frequented ; but, unlike Louise, at once recognised 
 its superiority. Nor, although the youthful circle which 
 claimed her as its ornament could assemble here but a small 
 number of its members, did she find herself by any means 
 destitute of acquaintances. 
 
 Dudley's partiality had not only awakened her ambition for 
 cultivated s.ociety, but had, to some degree, gratified this pre 
 ference, and already, through his introduction, had she been, 
 brought into occasional intercourse with persons of distinction, 
 taste, and learning. 
 
 Politicians, artists, noted travellers, titled foreigners, and 
 literary lions, in every department, were included in Lincoln, 
 Dudley's extensive circle of friends ; and more than one indi 
 vidual of some distinction among the present company, now 
 
118 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 seized the opportunity to revive and strengthen his know 
 ledge of the beautiful girl, whose naturalness of manner, fresh 
 ness of feeling, and exuberance of thought and fancy, had 
 increased the admiration inspired by her personal charms. 
 
 But, although this species of homage was an undoubted 
 triumph, there was no evidence of gratified pride in the de 
 meanour of Mabel, whose sparkling eye and intelligent smile 
 denoted an eager interest and an animated pleasure in the 
 conversation of a select group, of which she was the central 
 attraction. Conscious, as she could not fail to be, of her power 
 of pleasing, she nevertheless employed it without affectation 
 or artifice ; and in whatever estimation her success might be 
 held, no one could fail to acknowledge that it was fairly won. 
 
 Unwilling as Dudley was to yield allegiance to any single 
 object, and often as he absented himself from her neighbour 
 hood, to pay his addresses elsewhere, an irresistible attraction 
 drew him back, and a short interval only would elapse before 
 his clear tones would mingle again in the conversation of the 
 little group, to which his racy and eloquent, or occasionally 
 abrupt and ironical, contributions invariably imparted addi 
 tional zest ; nor did the consciousness of his vicinity fail to 
 give an added glow to Mabel's features, and a renewed lustre 
 to her eye. 
 
 * Do you see that magnificent girl yonder ?' said an elderly 
 painter of repute to one whom he knew to be a lover of his 
 art. ( I will paint her picture before the winter is over. I 
 promise you I shall accomplish the point, and obtain a sitting. 
 How superb she would be as Corinne crowned in the temple !' 
 
 * There is talent there/ exclaimed a first-rate lawyer, sig 
 nificantly glancing at Mabel, with whom he had been convers 
 ing. t She has beat me in an argument, just now, good- 
 naturedly, and without pedantry, too, and before I knew what 
 she was at.' 
 
 * I would not trust myself against her before a jury, inde 
 pendently of argument,' replied the gentleman to whom the 
 remark was addressed. 
 
 ( Your sister is a young lady to be proud of,' said a some 
 what taciturn old bachelor, who, standing near Louise, had 
 been silently observing Mabel. ' I see she is amiable as well 
 as agreeable, and dispenses her smiles with equal favour upon 
 all.' 
 
 ' Rather too much so, I should think/ said Louise, with a 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 119 
 
 short laugh, ' judging from some of her friends. Pray who 
 is that Father Noah whom she seems to find so interesting ?' 
 
 i That thin gentleman in the long-bodied coat ? I forget his 
 name, a clergyman, I believe.' 
 
 Louise now turned to Miss Vannecker, and exclaimed, in a 
 low and half-confidential tone : ' It is very ridiculous for 
 Mabel to stand there, directly in the centre of the room, and 
 talk to everybody that chooses to be introduced to her. She'll 
 make some most absurd acquaintances!' 
 
 A little later in the evening, when Mabel was listening, in 
 a reverential manner, to the conversation of the interesting 
 clergyman, Louise and Miss Vannecker paused as they were 
 crossing the room, and the former remarked abruptly to her 
 sister : ' You have chosen a conspicuous place for holding 
 your court, this evening, my dear ; the newspapers to-morrow 
 will describe the assembly-room, and say the centre ornament 
 was a flower-piece of exquisite form, consisting of successive 
 tiers of rose-wreaths, surmounted with a garland ?' 
 
 Besides,' added Miss Vannecker, as if taking it for granted 
 that Louise's remark was designed to be censorious, * it is very 
 unbecoming to stand directly beneath the gas-light.' And 
 having thus rebuked her vanity, they passed on. 
 
 Mabel blushed and looked somewhat disconcerted, but, in 
 nocent of any intention at display, maintained a dignified com 
 posure, and, covering her vexation with a smile, confirmed the 
 good opinion already formed of her by her new friend. 
 
 Dudley chanced to be standing near, and overheard the 
 rude speeches of Louise and her companion. Always cour 
 teous himself, he could not endure rudeness in others, especially 
 when its motive was as palpable as in the present instance ; 
 for his knowledge of Louise's character at once suggested to 
 his discerning mind the jealousy by which she was actuated. 
 
 Anxious, therefore, to free Mabel from the slight embarrass 
 ment which he detected in spite of her assumed serenity, he 
 availed himself of the first opportunity to invite her to visit 
 the conservatory, which contained a choice collection of plants. 
 Mabel, relieved by the proposal, the thoughtful delicacy of 
 which she fully appreciated, gladly accepted his offered arm 
 for the purpose. 
 
 Dudley was just enough of a botanist and florist to make his 
 observations upon flowers attractive and charming ; he forbore 
 the use of scientific terms, called them all by their simple and 
 
120 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 expressive names, and, without sentimentality, understood and 
 expatiated on the poetic and touching language which they 
 were capable of conveying. 
 
 There might be minds to which these gifts of nature ap 
 pealed with deeper significance, but few who could more grace 
 fully express the gratification afforded by them to a refined 
 sense of the beautiful. 
 
 While admiring, however, his knowledge of every species 
 of plant, including the rarest exotics, and sympathizing in 
 most of his preferences, Mabel was astonished at his indiffer 
 ence to many of her favourites, especially among the common 
 wild flowers of our fields and woods. She could not resist 
 paying the tribute of affection to these wayside friends, and in 
 answer to his inquiry which of all the summer blossoms she 
 preferred, she answered frankly, ' If you ask me which I love 
 the best, I must confess, though you will wonder to hear me 
 say so, the dandelion the friendly, yellow dandelion/ 
 
 Dudley smiled incredulously. 
 
 * I truly mean so,' said Mabel, earnestly ; ' it comes so- 
 early and stays so long. It is earth's golden star of promise, 
 speaking of warmth, and sunshine, and summer. It has such 
 sweet associations, too. Why, did you never,' exclaimed she, 
 forgetting for the moment that she was addressing the polished 
 man of the world, ' did you never sit on the grass and make 
 long chains of the hollow steins, and sigh to think how frail 
 they were ?' 
 
 * Never,' replied Dudley, with decision. 
 
 ' Nor tear them to shreds with idle fingers, and float them 
 in the brook to watch how they would curl ? Nor pluck the 
 downy seed-vessels, on your way from school, and blow on 
 them three times to see if your mother wanted you ?' 
 
 ' Never,' replied Dudley, again, in a tone which intimated 
 that his childish reminiscences included no such follies. 
 
 ' Then you cannot imagine,' said Mabel, her enthusiasm a 
 little damped by his manner, ' how many happy hours I asso 
 ciate with their common, familiar faces !' 
 
 ' I suppose not ; but I nevertheless love flowers for the sake 
 of association,' said Dudley; and, stooping down, he picked 
 up a sprig of mignionette, which she had held in her hand a 
 moment before and then thrown negligently away. 
 
 Mabel blushed as she observed the action, and if at the same 
 moment she did not feel absolutely ashamed of her love for 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 121 
 
 dandelions, she was ready to confess it a childish folly, for 
 which she had no right to expect the sympathy of grown 
 people. 
 
 In the criticism of works of art Dudley was even more 
 skilled than in the analysis of the floral kingdom ; and he next 
 directed Mabel's attention to a number of paintings "and statues- 
 which adorned the spacious hall adjoining the conservatory. 
 Under his tutelage Mabel had already acquired some little 
 skill in judging of an artist's merit, and almost fancied that 
 she could distinguish between the works of rival schools. She 
 was still so unsophisticated, however, as always to bestow her 
 first thoughts on the subject, rather than the execution of a 
 piece ; and her attention was at once attracted by an ancient- 
 looking picture, representing an angel-messenger bearing to 
 heaven the tidings of a sinner's repentance. The seraphic 
 beauty of the countenance, the joy, love, and holy triumph 
 which it depicted, inspired in Mabel an emotion of religious 
 awe. She gazed at it a moment in silence, then turned from 
 it to her companion, with a look which bespoke her admira 
 tion. 
 
 ' Miserable thing!' observed he, without appearing to notice 
 the sentiment it had awakened in Mabel. ' I never can see it 
 without smiling at the absurd discussion it has caused. You 
 must know that my honoured cousin ' he here lowered his 
 voice expressively, and looked over his shoulder to see if any 
 of the family were within hearing ( has the vanity, or the 
 credulity, to believe that picture a work of one of the old 
 masters. No one, with the slightest knowledge of paintings, 
 could cherish such a supposition for a moment. It is un 
 questionably a counterfeit, or at most a mere copy/ 
 
 Whether copy or counterfeit it had its value, as was evi 
 dent from the emotion it had awakened in Mabel ; but she 
 had no further opportunity to examine it. The seraph face 
 having been pronounced the guilty medium of a deception, 
 she was hurried away from it by Dudley, who assured her that 
 it was a daub a mere imposture, not worth a moment's- 
 study. 
 
 So, also, in passing judgment on the statues. Two figures 
 of Mercy and Truth absorbed Mabel's notice, and were, in 
 many respects, the finest in the collection : but Dudley could 
 see nothing in the former but a most remarkable distortion in 
 the little finger ; and the latter, unless his eye was more in- 
 
122 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 correct than usual, betrayed a slight disproportion in the size 
 of the throat. 
 
 No one could dispute, however, the accuracy with which 
 he pointed out the exquisite finish observable in the painting 
 of a Dutch kitchen, the work of a celebrated artist, or the 
 justice with which he commented upon the remarkable light 
 ness of limb pourtrayed in a favourite bronze Mercury. For 
 the true enjoyment of art, Dudley evidently considered it 
 necessary to comprehend it in detail. He had no conception 
 of the highest power which it is capable of exercising, restrict 
 ing its influence, as he did, to the enlightened and aristocratic 
 few, and wholly ignoring its agency in ennobling and elevating 
 the masses. 
 
 The conversation naturally passed from art to artists ; and 
 as Dudley had an intimate acquaintance with many persons 
 of tiiis profession, he was able to impart much curious and 
 interesting information concerning the labours and struggles, 
 the triumphs and failures of genius. 
 
 They now occupied a position where the company, most of 
 whom were promenading the hall, passed successively under 
 their review ; and, forsaking abstract topics, he proceeded to 
 entertain her for some time with his comments upon various 
 individuals their peculiar characteristics, family histories, or 
 public services. 
 
 She listened with interested and often amused attention, but 
 at length her eye wandered to the farther end of the hall; and 
 Dudley, observing the direction of her earnest gaze, perceived 
 at once the object that had attracted her notice. An elderly 
 lady, accompanied by a stout and stately military gentleman, 
 had entered the hall at its farther extremity, and was slowly 
 approaching the spot where they stood. She was considerably 
 above the ordinary height of woman, with an erect and im 
 posing figure, while her manner and bearing at once com 
 manded respect by their composed and serene dignity. There 
 was nothing forbidding, however, in her mild and benignant 
 face, shaded and softened by the snowy flutings of her widow's 
 cap, and her features were such as must in youth have rendered 
 her pre-eminently beautiful. Nor had time had power to dis 
 possess her of personal charms, although she had numbered 
 nearly threescore years and ten. Her skin was still fair, her 
 eye bright, and her silver hair, which was smoothly parted on 
 her forehead, escaped from her cap in the form of a few soft 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 123 
 
 and shining curls, which hung over either cheek. Her step, 
 too, was firm almost elastic and her hand rested lightly on 
 the arm of the portly officer. 
 
 Mabel's eye followed her with curiosity not unmixed with 
 respectful admiration, as moving leisurely up the hall she ac 
 knowledged the courtesies of numerous friends, and at length 
 approached the spot which Dudley had chosen as a favourable 
 point of observation. 
 
 ( Here comes the salt of the earth, Miss Vaughan,' said he, 
 in a tone of irony ; f she is leaning on an arm, too, of the 
 highest respectability.' 
 
 4 They are a noble-looking couple,' said Mabel, with warmth, 
 at the same time turning to him with an inquiring eye, as if 
 she would gladly hear more concerning them. 
 
 ' That woman,' continued Dudley, ' is generalissimo of the 
 forces of modern innovation the chief of a battalion of ama- 
 zonian philanthropists who carry all before them ; she will 
 drag us before a court-martial,' exclaimed he, feigning a 
 sudden alarm as she drew near. i How shall we escape? 
 We shall be caught, tried, convicted, and sentenced in less 
 than five minutes.' 
 
 6 She seems to carry only peaceable weapons,' said Mabel, 
 with a smile ; ' and allowing it were otherwise, what have we 
 done to expose ourselves to an attack ?' 
 
 * We are fair subjects for it,' replied Dudley ; ' yourself 
 especially. Do you not see that she is on the recruiting 
 service ?' 
 
 The venerable lady of whom Dudley ventured to speak so 
 lightly had just encountered some young girls, who were cross 
 ing the hall, and as she stood for a moment conversing with 
 the more sprightly of the two, her hand rested tenderly on 
 the head of the other, a slight, fair-haired creature, who looked 
 up at her aged friend with a countenance full of affectionate 
 respect. 
 
 It had seemed to Mabel, as she saw the evident affection the 
 old lady inspired, that nothing would delight her more than 
 to be honoured with her friendship ; and although Dudley's 
 manner somewhat damped her enthusiasm, she could not 
 resist \vatching every motion of one whose appearance seemed 
 to rebuke ridicule. 
 
 ' You see,' continued he, ( Madam Percival is supreme 
 among her subalterns. Her energies are unparalleled, and 
 
124 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 her valour invariably places her in the front rank of every 
 quixotic enterprise. She carries a current coin of golden 
 opinions, and her credit is unlimited. It is astonishing what 
 capital can be made now-a-days out of the sufferings of the 
 poorer classes.' 
 
 Mabel still continued silent, revolving her companion's 
 words, and waiting to hear more. 
 
 * She wears the same uniform as ever, I see/ said Dudley, 
 after a pause ' black satin and Brussels lace, and has the 
 same military escort ; the gentleman with her is her step-son, 
 General Percival, of the regular army. They have appeared 
 together on parade for these twenty years. It tells vastly 
 well for family concord and unanimity under trying relations ; 
 I have heard, however, that there was great difficulty in 
 settling the family estate.' 
 
 Dudley lowered his voice, as he concluded, for the subject 
 of his remarks was now within a few steps of them, and, as if 
 in confirmation of his fears, had fixed her eye upon him intel 
 ligently. 
 
 ' Shall you venture to meet the charge, and be victimized ?* 
 asked Dudley, in an undertone, and at the same time looking 
 about him, as if for a place of refuge. 
 
 ' I have no fears/ answered Mabel, ' I am not the object of 
 her notice.' 
 
 1 You will allow me, then/ said he, with ready tact, ' to 
 hand you some refreshment ;' and he darted off in pursuit of 
 a servant, who was passing with a tray of ices, thus avoiding 
 the necessity of the apparently dreaded recognition- 
 There was such a mingling of humour and satire through 
 out this conversation, that Mabel could not possibly determine 
 whether a single word of it was spoken in earnest ; nor was 
 she convinced that Dudley's anxiety to avoid the lady was 
 otherwise than feigned. Still his words and conduct were not 
 without effect, and her generous, confiding disposition was 
 tinged with unpleasant conjectures. So impressed was she, 
 indeed, with a suspicion of the old lady's eccentricities, that 
 when the latter paused directly in front of her, she was fully 
 prepared to be addressed, without the ceremony of an intro 
 duction, and was consequently somewhat disconcerted when 
 a person seated behind her, and whom she was unconsciously 
 obscuring, laid a hand upon her arm and said, in a gentle 
 voice, ' I think that lady is looking for me : will you please 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 125 
 
 move a little to the right ?' Mabel instantly stepped aside, 
 and as she did so, brushed against a pair of crutches, which, 
 falling to the floor, revealed the helplessness of the object of 
 her seeming incivility. 
 
 As she stooped and restored the crutches to their owner, at 
 the same time apologizing for her unintentional rudeness, the 
 sincere grace of her manner called forth an approving smile 
 from Madam Percival, who, however, took no further notice 
 of her, but entered into conversation with the interesting lame 
 lady, and before Dudley returned with the iced sherbet, accom 
 panied her and General Percival into another room. 
 
 Later in the evening Mabel accepted, with her usual good 
 nature, an invitation to join the youthful dancers, who had 
 taken possession of the music-room and wanted one more 
 to complete their set. Young as she was, they were nearly 
 all her juniors, privileged to be present on this occasion, 
 which partook of the character of a family jubilee, and 
 her boyish partner scarcely equalled her in height. She 
 entered with ready glee, however, into their juvenile gaiety, 
 and won the hearts of the youthful company by her sympathy 
 in their enjoyment. It was an old-fashioned country dance, 
 and Mabel, after faithfully fulfilling her part, reached the 
 bottom laughing and out of breath. 
 
 'Your dance is going off gloriously, grandmamma!' exclaimed 
 her partner, stepping gaily within the open door of an adjoin 
 ing room, and addressing Madam Percival, who, while watch 
 ing the progress of the dance with evident pleasure and 
 interest, was conversing in an animated manner with the gen 
 tleman in the long-bodied coat, whom Louise had denominated 
 Father Noah. She smiled and nodded pleasantly in acknow 
 ledgment of the boy's congratulations ; and Mabel observed 
 that each successive couple, as they came down the dance, 
 exchanged with her similar tokens of satisfaction. 
 
 * This performance was undertaken for grandmother's bene 
 fit,' said Mabel's partner to her, by way of explanation. It 
 was danced at our hostess's wedding twenty-five years ago. 
 My mother was bridesmaid on the occasion, and grandmother 
 proposed the dance to-night, for the sake of old times.' As 
 the boy named his mother he glanced affectionately towards 
 the lady who was presiding at the piano, and Mabel, for the 
 first time, observed that the owner of the crutches had been 
 furnishing the youthful party with music. 
 
126 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 What a charming bond of sympathy subsists among these 
 people, thought she ; and that remarkable old lady is evidently 
 the connecting link. Can there be hypocrisy beneath such a 
 countenance as hers ? Mr. Dudley must have been joking. 
 
 This latter conviction was still further strengthened in the 
 cloak room, where she had an opportunity of witnessing the 
 affectionate care which Madam Percival bestowed on her lame 
 friend, declining for herself the attentions to which her years 
 entitled her, and anxious only for the comfort of the invalid. 
 ' Offer your arm to your mother, my dear/ said she to her 
 grandson, who came to the head of the stairs to escort them 
 to their carriage ; and General Fercival not being in sight, 
 the venerable lady herself followed, unattended. 
 
 * She is a noble woman ! I am sure of it,' thought Mabel, 
 4 but what could Mr. Dudley have meant?' 
 
 The ingenious tribute of praise, and the intruding inquiry 
 which followed it, were alike indicative of Mabel's impressible 
 character. In the former her heart spoke out, in the latter 
 might be detected the haunting influence of an enkindled 
 doubt. Alas, what a shadow may be flung over the fairest 
 things by a single whisper from the brooding demon of dis- 
 trustf! 
 
 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 And who art thou that, in the littleness 
 
 Of thine own selfish purpose, would'st set bounds 
 
 To the free current of all noble thought 
 
 And generous action, bidding its bright waves 
 
 Be stay'd, and flow no further ? 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 IT was not strange that Mabel was susceptible to the subtle 
 influence of Dudley's insinuations, for she possessed a quick 
 and active mind, ever open to the teachings of those whose 
 knowledge and experience might entitle them to be the guides 
 of youth. It was, indeed, one of her sweetest, gentlest, and 
 most womanly qualities, which made her thus open to convic 
 tion ; and great, therefore, was the responsibility incurred by 
 any who presumed to check the genuine impulses of her 
 nature. Not that Mabel was alike destitute of character and 
 principle, ready, like the pliant wax, to be moulded by every 
 fluctuating circumstance. On the contrary she had a high 
 sense of duty, a stern reverence for virtue, and a noble desire 
 to excel, while certain fixed principles of right served as the 
 outposts to guard the citadel of her conscience. 
 
 But duty does not always assert itself with a force which 
 may not be evaded ; the standards of virtue and excellence 
 are capable of variation ; and the citadel which would repel 
 an open attack, may, insidiously, be undermined. Thus, 
 although Mabel's temper might occasionally be irritated, and 
 her good nature put to the proof by Louise's flagrant and open 
 violations of truth and justice, her character stood in far less 
 danger from this source, than from the plausible, specious, and 
 yet pernicious opinions and principles which Dudley intimated, 
 rather than openly avowed. 
 
 The day succeeding the evening above described, was that 
 on which Mabel held a weekly reception for guests, when, as 
 
128 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 usual, she was assisted by Louise, who seldom failed to be 
 present, to share the honours and responsibilities which might 
 accrue.* There had been an unusual number of guests, but 
 all had left save Dudley. Mr. Vaughan, contrary to his 
 usual custom, was to give a dinner-party that evening, and 
 Dudley, who was to make one of the guests, had come early, 
 bringing with him some very rare and valuable prints. These 
 consisted of accurate and beautiful representations of foreign 
 costumes, and Dudley, Mrs. Leroy, and Mabel, were examining 
 them with interest, for the purpose of selecting characters for 
 an approaching fancy ball, when there was a sudden ring of 
 the door bell. 
 
 It was too late to expect morning visitors, and too early for 
 the arrival of the strangers who were to constitute the dinner 
 party. 
 
 'Who can that be at this hour?' said Mabel, and with 
 girlish curiosity she stepped within the shadow of a bay 
 window, and looked out into the street. ' There is no carriage 
 here/ said she ; ' it must be father or Harry.' 
 
 As she turned from the window, however, she observed 
 Mrs. Leroy carelessly twirling a card round her forefinger, 
 and at the same time giving a hasty message to the footman 
 from whom she had received it. 
 
 As the man withdrew into the hall, Louise flung the card 
 upon the table, exclaiming, * Was there ever anything so 
 ridiculous ? Father Noah will be coming here next !' and she 
 glanced reproachfully at Mabel. 
 
 The latter, slightly colouring, took up the card and read, 
 f Mrs. Abraham Percival.' 
 
 A ray of manifest pleasure shone on her face, as she ejacu 
 lated, in a low voice, and a manner full of expectation, ' Oh ! 
 that beautiful old lady !' 
 
 Louise, with a scornful expression, resumed the study of the 
 plates, while Mabel, apprehensive of some rudeness on her 
 
 * They have adopted in New York the wise and agreeable custom 
 that prevails in Paris, where ladies remain at home for a certain time 
 on a stated day in every week, to receive their friends who may wish 
 to call, thus rendering morning visits something better than the bore or 
 the farce they too often are in England ; a bore when the time needed 
 for other purposes is occupied unexpectedly in making talk for a 
 caller, who on her part has nothing particular to say ; and a farce, when 
 intercourse, which, under some circumstances, might be a very agree 
 able relaxation, becomes a mere exchange of cards. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 129 
 
 sister's part, walked towards the door to receive her guest, her 
 countenance evincing some surprise and embarrassment at the 
 unexpected visit. 
 
 After waiting a moment, however, she heard the hall door 
 close, and the footman retreat into the back passage. A new 
 light seemed to break in upon her at these significant indica 
 tions, and she turned upon Louise with the sudden inquiry, 
 ' Can she have gone ?' 
 
 ' I suppose so,' replied Louise, feigning astonishment at the 
 question ; * you surely would not have had her admitted ! 
 Though there is no knowing what you might do,' added she, 
 with a contemptuous laugh, ' you seem to have such a fancy 
 for antiquities.' 
 
 ' I have,' said Mabel, decidedly ; ' did she ask for me ?' 
 
 ' She certainly did,' answered Louise, assuming a somewhat 
 defiant manner, as she observed the colour mount into Mabel's 
 cheek, 4 and I did you good service, and saved you from a most 
 intolerable bore, by sending- word that Miss Vaughan was not 
 at home for which, I think, you might at least thank me.' 
 
 ' Louise !' exclaimed Mabel, expressing in the simple enun 
 ciation of her sister's name all the amazement, regret, and 
 mortification which were roused by this cool declaration for 
 there was not even the conventional excuse for the falsehood, 
 it being Mabel's reception day. 
 
 Louise, who, however much she might be in fault, was 
 always ready with a retort, met Mabel's indignant expression 
 of censure with the retaliating and cutting observation, * Do 
 not be so angry, my dear, Mr. Dudley will think you are a 
 vixen. When Father Noah comes,' added she, in a mockingly 
 soothing tone, * you shall give your own orders, and have his 
 society all to yourself, for I trust I shall not be present to share- 
 the honour,' and with her usual light laugh and tripping air,, 
 the little lady stepped to the open piano and commenced play 
 ing a lively tune, accompanying it with the words, l Oh, no, I 
 shall not be there !' 
 
 The righteous indignation which had overspread Mabel's 
 face, and given rise to her sister's accusation of anger, now 
 yielded to an expression of grieved and wounded feeling, and 
 a tear glistened in her eye, as she said, with a mildness that 
 was truly dignified, * I am not angry, Louise, but I am sorry 
 on every account;' and then, embarrassed at the consciousness 
 that Dudley's eye was upon her, she hastily walked to the bay 
 
130 MADEL VAUGI1AN. 
 
 window, and, half hid beneath the sliadovv of its heavy curtains, 
 watched the retreating figure of Madam Percival, who in 
 serene unconsciousness of irreverent treatment, was moving 
 leisurely down the street. 
 
 Mabel still stood engaged in painful meditation, when she 
 was slightly startled by Dudley's voice close beside her, saying, 
 in a low and sympathetic tone, ' I am sorry, too/ 
 
 * Sorry for what ?' asked Mabel, confusedly. 
 
 4 That you should have been so disturbed. It was very 
 unfair, certainly, there can be no question who ought to be 
 mistress here.' 
 
 1 Oh, it was not that,' said Mabel, quickly ; ' I beg you not 
 to think me so childish ;' and her eye again followed Madame 
 Percival, ' but she is so much older than I, and she came 
 on foot, too, besides,' added she, with simplicity, ' I am at 
 home.' 
 
 ' Very true,' said Dudley ; and then ensued a momentary 
 pause ; for to condemn Louise was scarcely to satisfy Mabel, 
 and it seemed impossible to give the matter an agreeable turn. 
 
 Dudley found means, however, to place it in a new light. 
 ' A most unchivalrous mode of escape, without doubt,' said he 
 meditatively ; ' an artifice such as you would have scorned to 
 employ, Miss Mabel; but, while questioning the means, I 
 cannot help congratulating you on the deliverance.' 
 
 ' Do you count it as a fortunate escape ?' asked Mabel, 
 looking at him with some surprise. ' The visit seems to me a^ 
 most unmerited, as it was unexpected, honour.' 
 
 ' Unexpected to you,' said Dudley, with a meaning smile, 
 and his peculiar and expressive shrug of the shoulders, ' but I 
 felt assured you would be too valuable a recruit to be over 
 looked. I have trembled for you ever since I observed that 
 you had attracted the attention of the gentleman whom Mrs. 
 Leroy styles Father Noah. He is a minister at large, which 
 means a recruiting sergeant. He has, no doubt, reported you 
 to the commander-in-chief, who would scarcely overlook 
 the auxiliary forces you would be able to bring into the 
 field.' 
 
 'I!' 
 
 1 Yes, certainly ; have you not time, influence, and money, 
 all at command ?' 
 
 Mabel's countenance fell, and a shadow passed over her face. 
 * It was not myself, then,* thought she, ' who was capable of 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 131 
 
 inspiring interest, but my father's position, and the length of 
 his purse.' 
 
 1 Yes, certainly,' continued Dudley, in a self-gratulatory 
 tone ; ' my mind is relieved, I assure you, from many distress 
 ing visions which that lady's card conjured up. I had already 
 imagined you in the sober grey uniform of a professor in some 
 foundling educational institute, rapping the heads of unruly 
 members with the knuckles of one hand, and holding up the 
 forefinger of the other, in a monitory manner, while you cried, 
 "Attention!"' 
 
 Mabel smiled. 
 
 ' Or, attired in a long apron of factory cotton, and armed 
 with a huge pair of shears, officiating as assistant directress in 
 a scientific cutting-and-basting academy, for the elevation of 
 indigent needle-women ; or, with a pen behind your ear, and 
 a huge account-book under your arm, your brow wrinkled with 
 the responsible duties of treasurer to the corporation for en 
 couraging the emigration of foreign paupers.' 
 
 Mabel laughed outright at the ludicrous, and, in point of 
 taste, repulsive picture thus represented. 
 
 ' Come !' exclaimed Louise, rising from the piano, i why 
 don't we go on selecting our characters? I have almost made 
 up my mind to be comedy, if you will only be tragedy, 
 Mabel/ 
 
 ' 1 have been suggesting tragic characters to your sister,' 
 said Dudley, with readiness, ' but I do not think any of them 
 exactly meet her approbation. Some fifty years hence,' added 
 he, in a side voice, to Mabel, ' will surely be time enough to 
 hide your smiles behind the black hood of a sister of charity. 
 In the mean time, let us seek something more attractive.' 
 
 And in the indulgence of idle fancies that succeeded, the 
 venerable Christian matron and her noble schemes of useful 
 ness passed from Mabel's mind ; or, if remembered, the former 
 was henceforward dimly characterized as one who had desired 
 to divert Mr. Vaughan's wealth to her own quixotic enter 
 prises, and decoy his daughter into sacrificing her youth to 
 painful, and, at best, unprofitable labours. 
 
 It was not until nearly a month after Madam Percival's 
 visit, that Mabel bethought herself of the necessity of acknow 
 ledging the civility ; and this she did by merely leaving a 
 card at her address. 
 
 Such is the power of ridicule and wounded self-love. 
 
 K2 
 
132 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 At the commencement of dinner, Louise's want of truth and 
 decorum found another opportunity for display, and here, also, 
 Dudley acted as mediator. Miss Sabiah was being handed in 
 to dinner by a grave, elderly gentleman, who naturally looked 
 upon her as the hostess, when Louise, accompanied by a more 
 youthful escort, brushed past them and took the lead, saying- 
 over her shoulder, as she did so, ' By your leave, aunt ; father 
 desires me to preside to-day ;' and the next moment found her 
 seated at the head of her father's table, gracefully and unblush- 
 ingly filling the post always heretofore occupied by Miss 
 Sabiah. 
 
 It would have been amusing, if it had been one whit less 
 provoking, to witness the audacious effrontery of this usurpa 
 tion. It was lost upon most of the company, who were 
 strangers in the city ; but Mabel, who overheard this second 
 barefaced falsehood, and stood aghast at the presumption of 
 her sister, could scarcely contain her agitation and annoyance; 
 while Harry's eye flashed angrily from the opposite end of the 
 table, and Mr. Vaughan's mild countenance betrayed signs of 
 discomfiture. 
 
 As for Miss Sabiah, her nervous distress was such as must 
 have attracted the notice of any one in her neighbourhood, had 
 not Dudley, who chanced to sit next to her, covered her con 
 fusion, by engaging her for a few minutes in a conversation of 
 which he bore the whole burden himself, thus giving her time 
 to rally her usual stiff and formal self-possession. 
 
 This high-bred facility in playing the part of a gentleman, 
 which always imparted to Dudley an extremely obliging air, 
 was never more appreciated by Mabel than in this instance ; 
 for her indignation at the conduct of Louise was only equalled 
 by grief at her aunt's wounded feelings. She could not thank 
 him in words, but her grateful smile sufficiently indicated her 
 sense of his considerate kindness. His seat was between hers 
 and her aunt's, and as he turned from the latter and met 
 Mabel's approving glance he remarked in a low voice, ' ML-s 
 Vaughan's nerves are sensitive/ 
 
 * Very,' said Mabel, glancing anxiously at Miss Sabiah, who 
 was now attempting monosyllabic replies to her next neighbour 
 on the other side. 
 
 * We are all creatures of habit/ remarked Dudley, ' and I 
 notice that elderly ladies love the little dignities of office. If 
 called upon to resign them, they ought at least to have the 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 133 
 
 satisfaction of seeing the heir apparent installed in their 
 place.' 
 
 His countenance plainly expressed it as his opinion that of 
 the two Msters, Mabel was best entitled to the place at the 
 head of her father's table, and he even expressed himself 
 more plainly in the words, ' Miss Vaughan is, I presume, a 
 visitor merely, and scarcely endowed with the qualifications 
 for playing the part of a hostess, but Miss Mabel is un 
 questionably the presiding genius here, and we naturally look 
 to see her enthroned in the chair of state/ 
 
 1 He is right,' thought Mabel ; and for the first time she 
 realized her aunt's awkwardness and ignorance of society, felt 
 her own competence to shine in the position Miss Vaughan 
 had hitherto occupied, and half regretted the generous, and, as 
 it now seemed, inconsiderate impulse which had prompted her, 
 on her first return home, unhesitatingly to resign it. 
 
 Who shall venture to say how far self-love mingled in this 
 regret, and how much of her natural reverence for old associ 
 ations and superior years was extinguished in the cold calcu 
 lations of expediency ! 
 
 But this was not the only, nor the most vital form in which 
 her sentiments of veneration were this day destined to be as 
 sailed. Mabel had a sincere love of her native country, a 
 strong faith in its republican institutions, and its heaven- 
 designed destiny among nations, and when the conversation of 
 some talented members of the company took a political turn, 
 her interest and attention were at once awakened. 
 
 More than one political party were ably represented, but 
 the discussion was conducted in an amicable though earnest 
 spirit, and all were united in the depth of their patriotic zeal 
 for the honour and welfare of their country, and a deep con 
 viction of the influence she was destined to exercise in the es 
 tablishment of liberal principles throughout the world. 
 
 Mabel's face glowed, and her eyes sparkled, as she listened 
 to the hopeful and stirring: prophecy of one, who, having sur 
 vived several administrations, watched the working of our 
 governmental system, and exulted in the growth of truth and 
 justice in the national heart, ventured to predict, that the day 
 would come at last, when, purged from the stain of entailed 
 abuses, she would become a perfect model for future re 
 publics. 
 
 * You are a politician, I see. Miss Yaughan,' said Dudley, 
 
134 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 who had watched her with an interest equal to that with which 
 she had watched the speaker. 
 
 ' I !' exclaimed Mabel, turning suddenly towards him and 
 blushing-, as she always did at the consciousness of her be 
 trayed enthusiasm, ' Oh, no !' 
 
 ' A female patriot, then ?' 
 
 'Hardly that,' replied Mabel. 'I am afraid I have not 
 the heroism of a patriot, but I do hope that prophesied day of 
 glory will come at last, and that I shall live to see it.' 
 
 * I hope,' said Dudley, with a tone that was calculated to 
 chill the ardour of her feelings, * that you will not, on the 
 other hand, see this much-boasted confederacy sink as low in 
 the scale of nations as my fears predict. The elements of 
 disorganization and failure are already at work ; it is astonish 
 ing to see the blind confidence with which these self-styled 
 statesmen endeavour to uphold, with high-sounding words, 
 the crumbling edifice of national prosperity ;' and, turning to 
 the individual whose eloquence had inspired Mabel with a 
 kindred zeal, he begged a solution of some of those difficult 
 and intricate problems in the future career of the republic 
 which distract the common mind and tax the best abilities of 
 the wisest. 
 
 The question called forth a response, which, in its turn, 
 gave rise to a short but spirited debate, conducted ably on 
 both sides, but with especial skill on the part of Dudley, 
 whose opponent was no match for him in clearness of argu 
 ment and subtle force of reasoning ; and not Mabel alone, but 
 older and wiser heads than hers, were compelled to acknow 
 ledge the justness of his apprehensions, and almost felt the 
 social fabric totter beneath them as he enlarged upon the 
 imminent peril which threatened it. 
 
 It was neither his taste nor his policy, however, to push 
 the controversy beyond the interchange of a few prominent 
 ideas and suggestions, and he gracefully and ingeniously 
 waived the continuance of a subject ill-suited to the time and 
 place, even suffering his antagonist to enjoy the benefit of the 
 last word, which was to the effect, that] no one could foresee 
 how these things would terminate, that Mr. Dudley's queries 
 were, doubtless, unanswerable but, as he had said before, he 
 had confidence in the nation at large, and the over-ruling 
 Providence which had thus far sustained it. 
 
 'The gentleman has an astonishing confidence in the ele- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 135 
 
 ments of which this community is composed,' said Dudley to 
 Mabel, when conversation around the table had again become 
 general ; ' he seems to place great reliance too on the Divine 
 partiality. Does he think the American Republic superior in 
 intelligence to those of classic Greece and Rome ? or that the 
 former is destined to perennial growth, while the latter were 
 doomed to decay ?' 
 
 The inquiry was specious, and acted powerfully upon 
 Mabel's mind, for there was no one to suggest the reply 
 that in the Christianity of the nation lay the true safety of its 
 children and the hope of its future glory. 
 
 It was not strange that Dudley should cherish dark and 
 gloomy doubts of a triumph whose germ he totally overlooked. 
 Alas, how much he overlooked in this world, so rich to him in 
 its arts, its sciences, its wealth, its knowledge, and its pride ! 
 How poor are all these treasures in comparison with that pearl 
 of price, which he, in his self-reliance, scornfully disdains, and, 
 scorning it himself, hesitates not to despoil another of that child 
 like simplicity and trust, which invest earth with a halo of 
 heavenly brightness, and constitute the choicest gem in her 
 womanly crown ! 
 
 And what shall he give her in return ? 
 
 He may ransack the stores of learning, exhaust the mines of 
 knowledge, or drain to their utmost depths the resources of 
 fancy, wit, and imagination- but he can never give her back 
 the holy joy that springs from the love of common things, the 
 cherishing of natural sentiment, the faith in human virtue and 
 the providence of God. 
 
 The time is coming when she will need them all. Ah ! 
 what shall atone for their fatal loss, when her heart crieth out 
 in its bitter agony and no answering voice replieth ? 
 
( 136 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Oh ! but ill, 
 
 When with rich hopes o'erfraught, the young high heart 
 Bears its first blow ! it knows not yet the part 
 "Which life will teach to suffer and be still. 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 A FEW weeks more pass away. The gay world is as gay as 
 ever. Music, laughter, dancing, fashion, and display, still gild 
 the surface of that phase of humanity which hides its throbbing 
 heart behind the veil of conventional usages, or crushes down 
 its aching sorrows beneath the weight of an assumed gaiety. 
 A little while ago and Mabel was one among the crowd who 
 wore no such veil, and bent beneath no such weight. Her 
 motions were free, her smiles genuine, and her heart light. 
 But the case is altered now; the immunity exists no longer; 
 and Mabel is changed. It is not that the world has with 
 drawn its favour, though its admiration is, perchance, somewhat 
 tainted with envy. It is not that her health is undermined, 
 though the roses have paled a little in her cheeks ; nor is it 
 the effect of satiety, for the new element, which a superior 
 mind has had power to infuse into her daily life, has lost 
 nothing of its charm. Yet the once buoyant, happy, careless 
 Mabel is suddenly and strangely changed. 
 
 The dull-eyed world notes it not; even affection is blinded 
 to the fact, and scarcely does her own heart acknowledge its 
 painful but unutterable burden. 
 
 Still its influence penetrates every spring of action, and 
 modifies every thought ; for, hid as it might be from others, 
 and struggled with as it might be by herself, Mabel, the 
 hitherto light-hearted Mabel, has something on her mind. 
 
 Whatever it may be, it is something of a saddening nature ; 
 for the spirits which were wont to be spontaneous are now 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 137 
 
 forced and titful ; it is something alarming, if one may judge 
 from the nervous starts and occasional tremblings which are 
 significant of anxiety and dread ; it is something secret, for 
 she tells no one, maintains an assumed composure herself, and 
 scans the faces of others with eager scrutiny. 
 
 Her altered habits, moreover, betray a corresponding change 
 in her feelings, motives, and designs. She no longer approaches 
 the break fast -room carolling a gay song, or trips with a light 
 step to her aunt's door, and bids her a lighter good morning, 
 but pauses within her own room,* listens for the footsteps of 
 the rest of the household assembling for the morning meal, 
 and when she makes her own appearance, glances around the 
 table with a troubled air and an inquiring eye. And when she 
 returns at night from those gay scenes, into which she plunges 
 with more eagerness than ever, she seems quite forgetful of 
 the rest which youthful weariness is wont to crave, and, dis 
 missing her maid, paces her room with unequal steps, looks 
 out of her window at the night, or, noiselessly turning the 
 door-lock, moves through the house like a ghost, listening at 
 cracks and peeping through key-holes ; then, startled by some 
 slight noise, retreats hastily within her own room, perhaps 
 brushes away a tear, and retires for the night with a lamp 
 still burning. 
 
 In society, also, many and frequent are the indications which, 
 though unmarked by others, betray to one observant eye, at 
 least, the secret fear which is ever present to her thoughts. 
 The quick flush upon the countenance, the rapid and excited 
 conversations upon subjects of trifling interest, the nervous 
 start on being suddenly addressed, and an occasional absence 
 of mind all bear witness to the fact, which it is now the chief 
 anxiety of her life to conceal. 
 
 Yes, even her pathway, sunny as it seemed, stretches across 
 those dreary wastes which humanity is doomed to tread. She, 
 like the rest, has taken up her burden, and must bear it as best 
 she may. It came upon her suddenly. A premonitory shadow, 
 indeed an undefined dread had once or twice taken posses 
 sion of her mind ; but the blow aimed by cruel hands finally 
 struck home without preface or warning. 
 
 It happened thus. She was sitting for her portrait to the 
 very artist who had been so earnest to obtain the opportunity, 
 and who, with Dudley's recommendation in his favour, met 
 Mr. Vaughan's ready encouragement. 
 
138 MABEL VAUGHAX, 
 
 It was the morning 1 after the fancy ball, already alluded to 
 as in course of preparation. The festivities having been pro 
 longed until a late hour, it was with some reluctance that 
 Mabel made the effort to keep her appointment with the 
 artist ; but his time was valuable, and she was unwilling to 
 disappoint him. Miss Sabiah usually accompanied her on 
 these occasions, but as the venerable years and character of 
 the portrait painter rendered her presence superfluous, 
 and the coachman had taken his horses to be shod that 
 morning, Mabel proceeded alone and on foot to the studio, 
 requesting her aunt to send the carriage to meet her at an 
 appointed hour. 
 
 Mr. Geraldi, whose conversational gifts rivalled those of 
 the pencil, and who seldom failed to relieve the monotony of 
 these sittings by his agreeable discourse, had this morning 
 enlarged with more than ordinary enthusiasm upon topics con 
 nected with his profession, and either accidentally or with 
 conscious tact, had, by a warm eulogium -upon his friend 
 Dudley's knowledge and taste, called up in Mabel's face that 
 expression of animation and interest which he was most 
 anxious to transfer to his canvas. He had reached a critical 
 point in his labours, and his countenance consequently mani 
 fested no little annoyance when the outer door of his studio 
 was unceremoniously thrown open, and a party of fashionable 
 young ladies entered, having come thither, out of idle curiosity, 
 to inspect some portraits which were on exhibition. 
 
 A wide screen, which stretched the whole length of the 
 apartment, concealed Mr. Geraldi and Mabel from the ob 
 servation of the visitors, but their loud voices and extravagant 
 mirth were scarcely less embarrassing to the artist than their 
 actual presence would have been ; more especially as, however 
 he might profess to despise the criticism of the uninitiated, he 
 could not be wholly insensible to the unqualified comments 
 which they bestowed upon his works. 
 
 4 Do see,' cried one, l that is Mrs. Leonard !' ' Looks 
 about as much like her as it does like me,' cried a second. 'I 
 hope she has paid him well for making a beauty of her,' again 
 exclaimed the first speaker ; while a third, exposing to view 
 an unfinished portrait which was turned towards the wall, pro 
 nounced it a genuine likeness of Miss Oldbelle, minus her 
 rouge and hair-dye. 
 
 Mr. Geraldi smiled. Mabel blushed, recognising as she did 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 139 
 
 the voices of some of her friends, and anxiously anticipating 
 some more cutting- sarcasm. 
 
 Well might she tremble, but not for the artist ; the poison 
 ous shafts of these idle tongues were destined to take a nearer, 
 closer aim, and pierce her own heart. 
 
 ' Where's Mabel Vaughan ?' cried Victoria Vannecker. 
 ( Gerakli is painting her ; that's the only picture I care about 
 seeing.' 
 
 ' You feel a sisterly interest, Vic !' exclaimed another voice. 
 ' No wonder !' And then followed many foolish and coarse 
 jokes, implying the near relationship likely to exist between 
 Miss Vannecker and the Vaughan family. 
 
 Mabel's lips, as she listened, curled with a slight expres 
 sion of scorn at these unwelcome and preposterous projects of 
 alliance. 
 
 ' I will do the Hammerlys the credit of saying,' cried the 
 eldest and loudest-spoken of Victoria's companions, 'that there 
 has been nothing this winter that has gone off half as well as 
 that, ball last night. The whole thing was managed splen 
 didly, and that last dance was so exciting it almost takes me 
 off my feet to think of it !' and she concluded by humming a 
 few notes of the most popular waltz of the season. 
 
 * They say there was no end to the champagne that was 
 drunk,' said Victoria. 
 
 'I should think so,' said another and somewhat gentler 
 voice. ' Did you see Mr. Van Rosberg and that young Creole 
 that wore a Spanish dress ? I was afraid they would really get 
 to fighting. I am sure they were both excited with wine.' 
 
 ' Oh, that is nothing,' cried the loud-voiced lady. ' I know, 
 from good authority, that two or three of our set didn't go 
 home till daylight, and then not without help. Your Knight 
 of Malta, Vic, had his share of the champagne, if anybody 
 had.' 
 
 Miss Vannecker laughed. 
 
 4 What were you doing in the supper-room just before the 
 last dance ? drinking healths ?' 
 
 ' Oh, Robin Hood gave the funniest toast,' said Victoria ; 
 ' I wish I could remember it ; it was something about a horn ; 
 and Little John that was Fred Earle, you know he re 
 sponded ; and my Maltese knight made a little bit of a speech 
 all to ourselves, you know, up in that corner of the room ; 
 but oh, it was so funny ! Fan and I laughed so ! I declare, 
 
140 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Fan Fan Broadhead, the fairy queen was so diverted that 
 she forgot to take care of her gauze wings, and that great 
 stout Mrs. Makeway brushed against her and crushed one of 
 them, so that it looked ridiculous. Fan was dreadfully pro 
 voked ! It served her right, though, for she never would 
 have dreamed of taking that part if she had not known that I 
 thought of it for myself. How mad she was when the Malta 
 knight said something about its proving that she was a false 
 fairy. That was just as we went off to dance,' added Victoria, 
 with an affected and self-satisfied air, 'and I don't know how 
 she managed to repair the mischief.' 
 
 'Your devoted knight was very light, both of head and 
 heels, at that time in the evening,' said her friend. ' What 
 with my partner and yours, Vic, the dance had a right to be 
 lively. They do say, though,' and here she lowered her voice 
 sufficiently to impart added meaning to her words * the Ham- 
 merlys and some others who have a right to know, do say that 
 it is not the first time that the Knight of Malta has needed the 
 services of his father's footman. But, la ! they say so of 
 half the young men !' 
 
 ' To be sure,' said Victoria, as the party, who had long 
 ceased their inspection of the pictures, prepared to take leave, 
 and the door closed behind them with these words from the 
 frivolous lips of one of their number 
 
 ' Pooh ! What is champagne made for if not to drink ?' 
 
 Mr. Geraldi, who with his head bent over his palette had 
 been mixing a few colours, while he impatiently awaited the 
 departure of the talkative group of visitors, now looked up at 
 Mabel, with the view of resuming his labours at the easel, but 
 could scarcely believe that he saw before him the same face 
 which he had been studying a few moments before. The 
 mobile features had become rigid, the lips compressed, the 
 complexion almost colourless; while the expression of animated 
 intelligence, which he had been so anxious to retain, had 
 wholly vanished, giving place to that vacant and absent air 
 which often takes possession of the countenance when the 
 mind is engaged in painful introspection. 
 
 Thought was almost suspended in Mabel, but memory and 
 imagination had called up in vivid colours a long array of 
 Jiving facts, upon which her mental gaze was riveted. She 
 had experienced strange doubts and questionings before. It 
 was all explained now. The coldness between Dudley and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 141 
 
 < 
 
 Harry the latter' s exaggerated attentions to Miss Vannecker 
 his avoidance of herself her solitary return home the 
 previous night and the unusual noise upon the stairs which 
 had disturbed her slumbers at daybreak these idle tattlers 
 had accounted for it all for Harry was the Knight of 
 Malta. 
 
 Not until the loud banging of the street door, and the sudden 
 silence which succeeded, recalled her to herself, did she realize 
 the necessity for self-control. As she looked up and found 
 Mr. Geraldi's eyes fixed upon her, a sudden flush overspread 
 her cheeks and brow, and she rose quickly from her chair, as 
 if deprecating any further analysis of her face, and, possibly, of 
 her emotions. 
 
 ( You are fatigued, my dear young lady. I have kept you 
 too long!' said the kind old artist, who had heard but a por 
 tion of the conversation that had just transpired in his studio, 
 and who had recognised nothing in it which could have power 
 to agitate her. 
 
 1 Yes,' said Mabel, in a broken voice, and scarcely knowing 
 what she said, ' I will go now;' and rising, she mechanically 
 resumed her cloak and bonnet, and walked to the door, forget 
 ting, until she had nearly left the room, her customary saluta 
 tion and farewell, which were at length performed with but 
 little of her wonted grace. 
 
 She had gained the sidewalk before she even thought of the 
 carriage, but then perceiving that it had not arrived, she 
 walked slowly up the street, and turning, walked back for a 
 little distance, and this she did, again and again, unconscious 
 of observation, and thankful only to be in the fresh air and 
 alone. 
 
 4 Miss Mabel !' called Donald, as she was unconsciously 
 passing the carriage, which had at length reached the artist's 
 door. He was obliged to follow his young mistress and repeat 
 the call, before he could arrest her attention. 
 
 6 0, Donald ! is that you ?' she exclaimed, in sudden sur 
 prise ; and then, without any explanation of her singular 
 preoccupation, she turned, hastened to the carriage, and 
 springing in, threw herself upon the back seat with evident 
 relief, and told him to drive on. 
 
 t Where ?' asked he, and receiving no answer, repeated the 
 question. 
 
 ' Home,' cried she, at length, in answer to his inquiries, and 
 
142 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 for the first time astonishing him by the irritability of her tone 
 of voice. 
 
 Fortunately it was a quiet street, and there was no one 
 but Donald to feel or express any astonishment at her move- 
 merits. 
 
 They had gone but a few steps, when she suddenly pulled 
 the check-string. t Drive to Mrs. Leroy's,' exclaimed she, a 
 little imperatively, as if the man had wilfully misunderstood 
 her first direction. 
 
 Poor girl ! she scarcely knew what she said or did. Louise 
 was at home, and Mabel found her attired in a rich dressing- 
 gown, and lying- on a sofa, too much fatigued with the dissipa 
 tion of the previous evening to attempt any exertion. 
 
 Not till she was seated opposite to her sister, and a pause 
 succeeded the usual interchange of civilities, did Mabel ask 
 herself for what purpose she had come. Certainly not to 
 betray to Mrs. Leroy the subject which was uppermost in her 
 thoughts. Perhaps, though she could not herself be sure, it 
 was to learn whether Louise was yet conscious of the fatal 
 secret, which w r as no secret ; and if so, to discover the nature 
 of her sentiments in relation to the melancholy fact. 
 
 ' Been at Geraldi's ever since ten o'clock ?' was the excla 
 mation with which Mrs. Leroy broke the momentary silence. 
 4 0, Mabel,' continued she, languidly, and settling herself 
 more comfortably on her pillows, ' how strong you are ; why, 
 I hardly felt able to go to the breakfast-table, after the fatigue 
 of last night.' 
 
 ' You danced more than I did,' said Mabel with an absent 
 tone, and the half-timid, half-searching glance at her sister, 
 which she had worn from her first entrance. 
 
 * Yes, very true,' responded Louise, with the flattered air 
 of a youthful belle, l somehow I never can get excused. How- 
 do you manage, Mabel? However,' continued she, without 
 waiting for a reply, * you are not so passionately fond of it as 
 I am ; I was brought up to it. I danced the cracovienne 
 with castanets, when I was only four years old, for the 
 entertainment of mamma's visitors. There was a Count in 
 the room one evening, I can't think of his name, but I 
 remember perfectly what he said to me about my dancing.' 
 
 Once launched upon this topic, Louise did not pause 
 until she had detailed, for Mabel's benefit, the successive 
 tributes of flattery which had poisoned the ear, first of the 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAN. 143 
 
 child, and then of the woman, up to the present period ; and 
 Mabel, to whom these petty parades of vanity were nothing 
 new, breathed more freely as she listened. She could never be 
 thinking of herself, and of such trifles, if she knew what I 
 know, thought Mabel ; and she felt a sense of relief in the 
 idea that there was one of the family, at least, who was 
 ignorant of Harry's disgrace. 
 
 At length, after Louise had roamed from one frivolous 
 topic to another, for the space of half an hour, failing amid 
 her own volubility to take note of Mabel's unusual silence and 
 constraint, the latter rose to go. 
 
 ' Do hand me that Cologne, Mabel,' said her sister; and re 
 ceiving the bottle from Mabel's hand, she poured some of its 
 contents on her handkerchief, and applied it to her forehead. 
 4 1 believe I have got a headache to-day,' drawled she, ' I feel 
 very dull and stupid, at any rate ; I suppose it's the cham 
 pagne I drank last night. Close the shutters, will you, Mabel ? 
 if Lydia will only keep those children out, I may get a nap. 
 Was Harry up to breakfast this morning?' added she, 
 laughing. 
 
 Mabel's hand trembled, as, with her back to Louise, she 
 attempted to close the shutters, and her voice betrayed no 
 slight agitation, as she answered, ; Why ?' 
 
 4 Oh, nothing,' replied Louise, ' only I fancy he returned 
 rather late, and had a pretty heavy dose to sleep off.' 
 
 Mabel made no answer, except by rattling the latch of the 
 shutter, which she tried in vain to fasten. 
 
 ' It was two o'clock when we came away/ continued Louise, 
 4 and Mr. Leroy says that some of the young men in the hotel 
 did not come home until three or four hours later. I will 
 venture {o say, Harry was one of the last to leave, for nobody 
 seemed to enjoy it more than he did. I never saw him in 
 such spirits in his life thanks to the supper, I think, rather 
 than Vic Yannecker's wit, though Vic would not thank me 
 for saying so,' added she, in a somewhat indifferent tone. 
 
 Mabel turned slowly round, lifted her long lashes, and fixed 
 her eyes full and wonderingly upon her sister's face. Louise 
 met this glance of deep concern and reproach with her usual 
 light and scornful laugh. 
 
 ' Don't look so shocked,' exclaimed she at length, a little 
 irritated by Mabel's silence, which was far more expressive 
 than any words of which she could have made use ; ' you are 
 
144 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 just like Mr. Leroy. He talks about Harry's having got into 
 a bad set, and all that nonsense. I am sure his acquaintances 
 are the first young men about town. For my part, I like to 
 see gentlemen have a little life and spirit about them ; I can't 
 bear these spoonies who are always measuring their conduct ; 
 afraid of losing caste among the saints ; they don't turn out 
 a bit better in the end. But, la, Mabel, how solemn you 
 look,' added Louise, almost angrily. ' You'd make an an 
 chorite of Harry, I dare say, and advise me to become a nun, 
 and go out into the wilderness, next month, with Mr. Leroy, 
 as he proposed I should do this morning. My motto is, to en 
 joy as much as one can, and take life easy.' And once more 
 composing herself upon her couch, she commenced putting he? 
 motto into practice by closing her eyes for a nap. 
 
 Mabel was not slow to avail herself of the hint which this 
 action afforded, and now hastening from the house, gave the 
 coachman the unhesitating order to drive home. 
 
 In that one long, silent look which she had fastened upon 
 her sister's face, she had pierced, as it were, to the depths of 
 that shallow and worldly nature, she had measured the wide 
 difference between her own vehement heart-throbs, and the 
 feeble pulsations of feeling in Louise, and had learned the sad 
 truth, that in the deep experiences of life she must seek in 
 vain, in this direction, for a sister's counsel and sympathy. 
 
 To whom, then, shall she look for comfort in this hour of 
 bitterness ? Not to her father, who, she trusts, may long be 
 left in ignorance of his son's misconduct ; not to her aunt, who 
 would inveigh against it with a severity of which Mabel could 
 not bear to think ; and of higher and heavenly aid, though she 
 was far from denying its power, she had not yet learned to 
 avail herself. So, for the first time in her life, as she sought 
 her solitary room, she felt herself truly alone, alone with an 
 aching sorrow. 
 
 With what crushing force did it weigh down and paralyze 
 her heart ! The world might excuse the folly at which it 
 laughed so lightly, the frivolous might defend, and the weak 
 applaud, but Mabel could only tremble and weep. 
 
 She looked not to the end, she measured not the fearful 
 consequences that might ensue in the future ; her feelings had 
 received too severe a shock to admit of any other consciousness 
 than that of a deep and irreparable calamity. 
 
 Harry, her noble brother, a laughing stock and a by-word ! 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 145 
 
 his manly figure and handsome face a mark for the finger of 
 scorn, his intellectual nature lowered to the level of a brute ! 
 It was too much ; and the necessity for self-control being 
 past, she threw herself on her bed, and gave way to a paroxysm 
 of grief. 
 
 Who shall tell the agony of the mental conflict that she 
 experienced ? It is sufficient that she rose from that suffering 
 crisis a new and altered being. The iron hand was upon her 
 which moulds the child into the woman, and she went her way, 
 shrinking beneath its cruel touch. Henceforth, her inner and 
 outer world were no longer in harmony. The drama of her 
 life was double, and she had two parts to play. 
 
 
( 146 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Oh, that men should put an enemy in 
 
 Their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we 
 
 Should with joy, pleasure, revel and applause, 
 
 Transform ourselves to beasts. SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 THERE is a species of brutish self-indulgence which takes 
 possession of the poor, the hard-working, and the untaught 
 nature. It revels in the low, degrading, and underground 
 haunts of vice. It walks both by night and day, striding before 
 the eyes of men in all its unglossed deformity, telling of starva 
 tion and rags, of wayside gutters and unmarked graves. It 
 excites the disgust of the refined worldling, and the efforts of 
 the brave philanthropist. 
 
 There is another, and a like species of consuming demon, 
 which treads the high places of the earth, its ugliness clothed 
 in the garments of pride, and its depravity hid beneath the veil 
 of luxury. Wealth ministers to its grasping influence, and 
 oftentimes, youthful beauty and woman's smile foster the 
 devouring flame. Not until its fell work is well-nigh done 
 does the world take note of the destruction which lies in its 
 path ; but the record of its fearful march is written on many 
 a bowed head and broken heart, while secret tears and mid 
 night watchings, and the unuttered groans of disappointed 
 hope, sap the very life-springs of a mourning household. 
 
 The friend of humanity spares no effort to baffle the brutish 
 wayside enemy which drags the once honest and industrious 
 labourer down to idleness, poverty, and ruin. Shall no voice, 
 then, be lifted up to warn, threaten, and perchance to save, 
 the victim of that far more insidious and equally ruinous foe, 
 which walks hand in hand with pleasure, is sanctioned by 
 fashion and encouraged by wealth, but which leaves behind it, 
 when its easy victory is won, a blighted intellect, a shattered 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 147 
 
 frame, and all the conscious degradation of an abused and 
 fallen nature ? 
 
 Oh, that the silent and secret agony which has wrung so 
 many an innocent heart could find for itself an utterance ! 
 that the voiceless and anguished groan of the repentant spirit 
 could give vent to its warning cry ! Then might the youth 
 just launched on a career of dissipation, vice, and folly, be 
 startled betimes by the fearful knell of disappointed hope, 
 which rings out from the shoals and quicksands that are 
 scattered amid the sea of pleasure. 
 
 But, alas ! the ill-fated victim who learns his first lessons in 
 self-indulgence within the charmed ring of fashionable convi 
 viality, and plunges thence into the deeper haunts of iniquity 
 and vice, comes not back to shake the skeleton ringer at those 
 who yet linger on the threshold. Lost to self-respect, and 
 banished from the courts which lured him on to ruin, he sinks 
 into disgraceful oblivion, while the hearts that his misconduct 
 have broken, betray him not with a cry. 
 
 It was no sudden bound which had brought Harry to the 
 verge of this dark gulf. Freedom from parental restraint, 
 unlimited supplies of money, and a naturally gay and adven 
 turous disposition, had early exposed him to the temptations 
 which beset boyhood and youth. The love of mischief that 
 resulted in his banishment from West Point, had been succeeded 
 by a course of foolish extravagance, which was, however, in 
 some degree checked by the simple mode of life that prevailed 
 in the German university which he next attended, and the 
 interest in literary and scientific pursuits which was there 
 awakened. The two following years of travel served to make 
 him well acquainted with men and manners ; and amid the 
 various trials and tests to which the youth was subjected, it 
 must be acknowledged that he sometimes overleaped the 
 bounds of prudence and sobriety. Fortunately the excitement 
 of journeying, and the generous aspirations which it awakened, 
 furnished a vent to Ihe ardour and impetuosity of his disposi 
 tion, and tempered [the exposures which threatened him on 
 every hand ; still his character became gradually marked by a 
 certain recklessness and self-indulgence which boded ill for the 
 future. 
 
 But it was not until his return to his native city that he 
 gave himself up to a life of pleasure, and relinquished nobler 
 pursuits for the petty gratifications of the day and hour. 
 
148 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Idleness, however, the difficulty in choosing a profession, and 
 the satiety of his present mode of life, all combined to under 
 mine his strength of manly purpose ; while his convivial traits 
 and command of money caused his society to be appreciated, 
 and his presence sought by those who were alike skilled in 
 administering flattery and in contaminating the heart. 
 
 The point where a man loses his self-respect usually pre 
 cedes that in which he loses the respect of others. 
 
 Mabel became conscious that a barrier had arisen between 
 herself and her brother, before she suspected its cause. 
 
 Perhaps, had she been less engaged with a new sentiment, 
 she would have felt more keenly the gradual withdrawal of 
 Harry's confidence, and would have probed more deeply the 
 secret of his seemingly diminished affection ; at least, she 
 would have asked herself why it was that their pleasures, 
 interests, and tastes, which had hitherto lain in the same 
 direction, had ceased to be in harmony. 
 
 As it was, the conviction that Harry was in some degree 
 supplanted in her own heart, forbade her to question too closely 
 any want of devotion on his part ; and if she occasionally felt 
 wounded at his reposing less trust in her than formerly, she 
 doubted her right to complain of a reserve which she knew to 
 be in some degree mutual. 
 
 But if the consciousness of his own unworthiness caused 
 Harry to dread his sister's scrutiny, the barrier between them 
 was doubled now that she had come to share this knowledge. 
 He no longer had occasion to avoid the eye which nervously 
 shrank from encountering his, or dread any expression of 
 those suspicions on her part which, though they were ever on 
 the alert, she sought only to hide from his observation. And 
 yet, while Mabel had no anxiety so great as to conceal from 
 him her participation in his fatal secret, her very anxiety 
 betrayed her ; and he became instinctively conscious that his 
 innocent sister was suffering for his misdeeds. 
 
 The consequence was, a painful and daily increasing 
 estrangement ; not the estrangement which springs from harsh 
 looks, angry words, and mutual accusations ; there were none 
 of these. Scarcely less bitter to Mabel's heart, however, were 
 the averted or stealthy glance, the unexplained absence, the 
 constrained silence, or the ill-timed hilarity, which proclaimed 
 a mind ill at ease. 
 
 How far Mr. Vaughan and his sister shared her solicitude, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 149 
 
 it was difficult to determine. The former, in spite of his daily 
 increasing abstraction of mind, now and then cast on his son a 
 look of deep concern and scrutiny ; and the puzzled air with 
 which Sabiah was wont to regard her nephew, occasionally 
 gave place to a sharp glance of reproof, as she observed his 
 growing indifference to the happiness and convenience of the 
 whole household. No further utterance, however, was given 
 to their thoughts, nor was there as yet any positive evidence 
 that the indications of misconduct in Harry had not wholly 
 escaped their observation. Still, it could not be denied that 
 an air of constraint had gradually crept over the family, while 
 whatever might be the apparent subject of interest, an under 
 current of feeling evidently pervaded their little circle. 
 
 To shun the society of her aunt and father became at length 
 scarcely less an object with Mabel, than to avoid encountering 
 the eye of Harry. She never paused to ask herself whether 
 it was wise or right to shrink from meeting, face to face, the 
 calamity which she saw no way to avert ; but blindly following 
 the instinct of nature, she sought to flee from the harrowing 
 dread which, nevertheless, pursued her like a shadow. 
 
 Thus she now rushed more recklessly than ever into that 
 life of excitement and fashion which, in reality, had lost for 
 her the charm that it once possessed, seeking in the gay and 
 heartless whirl of society to drown the bitter fears and fore 
 bodings which pressed painfully upon her in her home. 
 
 It must be confessed, too, that her first agony of regret at 
 Harry's disgrace had been succeeded by a less disinterested 
 emotion, as she thought of the mortification it would entail 
 upon herself; and, shrinking from the companionship of her 
 brother, she almost unconsciously gave the preference to 
 those scenes of gaiety from which he would be sure to absent 
 himself. 
 
 The time had been when Mabel would have repelled every 
 pleasure or honour which Harry might not share, and would 
 have scorned to possess any interest distinct and separate from 
 his. The school-girl of six months ago would boldly have 
 declared, that in the face of all the world she and her brother 
 would fall or rise together. But the Mabel of to-day, be it 
 remembered, was not the simple-hearted pupil of Mrs. Her 
 bert. She had recently been trained in another school, and 
 had unconsciously imbibed other maxims. It was not the 
 influence of fashionable life ; for that, though it might engross 
 
150 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 her time with frivolous pursuits, had failed to corrupt the 
 generous emotions of her heart. It was the deeper, subtler 
 influence of one who, knowing no disinterested sentiments, and 
 believing the rest of the world as false and hollow as himself, 
 had insidiously contaminated her innocent and affectionate 
 nature with that refined species of selfishness which shrinks 
 from contact with the rough edges of this world's experience, 
 and wards off with shrinking dread the realizing sense of 
 aught that might interfere with its luxurious repose. 
 
 Thus striving, as she did, to free herself from the conse 
 quences of Harry's misconduct, the gulf between the brother 
 and sister was widening day by day ; arid Mabel, if not aiding 
 in the downfall of the misguided youth, was lending no hand 
 to rescue him from ruin. 
 
 Nor did she escape the mortification which she was so 
 anxious to evade. Frequently did her cheek blanch, and the 
 light word tremble on her lip, as she suddenly became con 
 scious of Harry's unexpected presence on an occasion when 
 she had least apprehended his approach. Sometimes he 
 would enter the assembly-room at a late hour, his face flushed 
 with wine, and his voice elevated a pitch above its usual 
 tone ; sometimes she would meet him on her drives, careering 
 through one of the avenues in an open gig, drawn by a steed 
 noted on the race-course ; and more than once he had attracted 
 attention to her opera-box, by the boisterous conversation 
 and merriment with which he had disturbed the rest of the 
 audience. 
 
 In the eyes of some of Mabel's fashionable companions 
 these might be evidences of spirit ; but to her credit be it 
 said her good sense, no less than her sensitive affection, 
 were keenly alive to the disgrace and censure which they 
 merited. 
 
 Such experiences, and the apprehension of them, were suffi 
 cient to cloud her joyousness. But this was not all. Other 
 evils soon followed in their train. Mabel's excitable, and ap 
 parently inconsistent demeanour, exposed her to misconstruc 
 tion, and that, too, in a quarter where she was most anxious 
 that her conduct should be favourably interpreted. In the 
 early stages of her acquaintance with Dudley, when he merely 
 sought a mental stimulus in the satisfaction of awakening her 
 genius and developing her intellectual nature, he had felt no 
 disposition to put a check upon her lighter enjoyments, and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAtf. 151 
 
 had been coolly indifferent to competition. But, in proportion 
 as he realized the power he had gained over her mind and 
 heart, did he become jealous of any interference, real or 
 imaginary. He made no open profession of that deeper 
 interest with which she had inspired him an interest which 
 had awakened in his sophisticated soul something like a 
 genuine emotion. He even refused to acknowledge to himself 
 the force of the feelings by which he was actuated. Their 
 manifestation, however, took precisely the form which might 
 have been anticipated from one of his distrustful character ; 
 and often did Mabel find herself controlled by a jealous tyranny 
 which she could not understand, or grieved by a displeasure 
 for which she could not account. It was easy, however, to 
 submit to a tyranny which usually took the form of watchful 
 devotion, arid to allay a displeasure which was seldom more 
 than momentary ; and until the period when Mabel's mind 
 became harassed by contending emotions, no serious cause of 
 alienation had arisen between herself and Dudley. 
 
 But experience now proved that, although there was no one 
 who could so effectually win her from the painful thoughts by 
 which she was oppressed, Dudley was not her most efficient 
 aid in moments of sudden agitation. Her only refuge, then, 
 was in assumed gaiety ; and it often happened that there was 
 an individual in her vicinity who possessed at once the ability 
 and the will to second her efforts at animation, and afford her 
 the most easy and obvious means of concealing and overcoming 
 her mortification and chagrin. This was a young man of lively 
 temperament, unfailing spirits, and proverbial good nature, 
 who was ever ready to join in a playful war of words, laugh at 
 a pleasant joke, or take the lead in those popular and fashion 
 able dances in which he excelled. These available qualities 
 were always at Mabel's disposal, for Mr. Marston was one of 
 a numerous throng who perseveringly sought to render them 
 selves acceptable to the belle of the season. 
 
 Anxious only to maintain her composure, at any cost, 
 Mabel did not realize the undue encouragement she was 
 bestowing on her highly flattered admirer, or the severity with 
 which Dudley inwardly commented upon her coquetry and 
 frivolity. 
 
 One evening, however, when, being more than usually 
 oppressed by anxiety, she had sought to divert her feelings 
 and ward off the observation of others, by accepting Mr. 
 
152 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 Marston's invitation to join in a rapid and giddy dance, she 
 was startled, on coming to a pause, by perceiving Dudley 
 standing directly opposite to her, with an expression of unmis 
 takable scorn upon his features, Avhile Harry was at the same 
 moment rendering himself conspicuous, by bestowing upon 
 Miss Vannecker, in an audible tone, a series of absurd com 
 pliments, which he would never have uttered in his sober 
 senses. 
 
 Half fainting from a conflict of painful emotions, she sank 
 upon a chair, and her agitation reached its height when Dud 
 ley crossed the room, and addressed her in the sarcastic tone 
 which he so well knew how to assume: 'Miss Vaughan/ 
 said he, ' I am glad to see you in such spirits to-night ; the 
 recollection of your animated enjoyment of this scene will 
 cheer me during my absence from the city.' And with a 
 frigid bow he left the room. 
 
 He despises me, thought Mabel, for my frivolity and seem 
 ing indifference to what every one must perceive. But, too 
 proud to bend beneath the weight of his displeasure, she 
 returned his salutation with haughty coldness, and accepted 
 Mr. Marston's invitation to take another turn in the 
 dance. 
 
 Bitter, almost heart-breaking, were Mabel's reflections that 
 night. For the first time, she began to doubt the wisdom, the 
 propriety even, of the course she had thought proper to adopt, 
 in order to veil her actual sufferings from the eye of the 
 world. Even Dudley, thought she, believes me heartless ; 
 for attributing to him a worthier motive than that by which 
 he was really actuated, she never doubted that it was his 
 warm friendship for Harry which caused him to be shocked at 
 her levity ; nor dreamed that it was an overwrought and 
 involuntary jealousy on his own account, which prompted his 
 sarcastic comment upon her apparent enjoyment of Mr. 
 Marston's society. 
 
 And thus mistaking, as she did, the cause of his disappro 
 bation, nothing could exceed her regret at having given 
 offence to the friend who, valued as he had long been, was 
 never so deeply prized as in this her time of painful and 
 humiliating sorrow. His desertion of her at this crisis seemed 
 more than she could bear. 
 
 Disappointed in her brother, blamed and forsaken by him 
 whose voice had hitherto been a charm against utter despoil- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 153 
 
 dency, and dreading the watchful eyes of her father and aunt, 
 she dared not fathom her own unhappiness; but, continuing 
 her customary round of engagements, performed her part with 
 automaton accuracy, masking her face in smiles, and crushing 
 down the emotions to which she dared not give way. 
 
 
 
( 154 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Humble Love, 
 
 And not proud Science, keeps the door of Heaven ; 
 Love finds admission where proud Science fails. 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 DURING the fortnight that Dudley continued absent from the 
 city, which was also the limit of his estrangement from Mabel, 
 the only companionship from which she obtained any relief 
 was that of her sister's children. Her efforts to win the 
 affections of the boys had not been without success ; and each 
 in his way gave evidence of a strength of attachment to their 
 young aunt, which she, in her turn, reciprocated with all the 
 warmth of a loving heart. The shout of joy with which 
 Murray hailed her presence, was only equalled by the glow of 
 unspoken pleasure which overspread the face of Alick, and 
 their mutual admiration of their Aunt Mabel was the one point 
 on which they never disagreed. Murray's restlessness sub 
 sided into happy, childish enjoyment, when he was permitted 
 to climb her knee at the twilight hour, and prattle to her of 
 the events of the day ; and nothing made him so supremely 
 happy, as to fall asleep at night with his hand locked fast 
 in hers. Often, while he was visiting at his grandfather's, 
 had Mabel loitered from the fashionable dinner party to listen 
 to the little nothings which he was so eager to impart ; and 
 more than once her rich evening dress had swept the carpet 
 while she knelt beside his couch and soothed his infant 
 slumbers. Both nature and habit had made Alick independent 
 of caresses ; but the gratified look with which he glanced up 
 from his book the first time she questioned him upon the subject 
 of his reading, had taught her the way to his heart, and the 
 boy never again had reason to complain that no one was 
 interested in his pleasure and improvement. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 155 
 
 She had her reward. Childish love is a refreshing balm to 
 the soul ; and nothing so quieted her restless spirit as to feel 
 around her the pressure of Murray's little arms, and observe 
 the sturdy manliness with which Alick, on all occasions, ap 
 pointed himself her attendant and champion. 
 
 She had nothing to dread, moreover, in her intercourse with 
 the children. They would neither suspect her uneasiness, nor 
 seek to pry into its source ; and experiencing a sense of security 
 in their presence, Mabel availed herself of their society on 
 every possible occasion. 
 
 One Sunday they accompanied her home from church after 
 the morning service, and, the early dinner being concluded, 
 followed her, with their pockets full of nuts, into the little 
 apartment adjoining the drawing-room, which she could never 
 enter now without feelings of inexpressible sadness. The boys 
 seated themselves in the window, and commenced eating their 
 nuts, while Mabel wandered listlessly about the room, reading, 
 in its abundant decorations, the evidences of Harry's affection, 
 and wondering where he might be spending the sabbath, for 
 she had not seen him since morning. 
 
 She paused in front of her richly inlaid writing-desk, and, 
 lifting the lid, took up a little heap of letters recently received 
 from her former teacher and schoolmates. They were in reply 
 to some she had written a few weeks ago in all the extravagance 
 of youthful spirits, and their tone grated strangely on her 
 present feelings. The dear girls congratulated and envied her, 
 and her beloved friend, Mrs. Herbert, believing her to be 
 happy, wrote only a brief message of affection, sympathizing 
 in the pleasures of her lot, and gently cautioning her not to 
 be too confident of their continuance. Alas ! the caution came 
 too late. 
 
 She closed the desk, and taking a book, threw herself upon 
 the sofa and tried to read ; but her mind wandered from the 
 page, and, after indulging a long fit of gloomy meditation, she 
 rose and walked to the window, where the children were 
 watching the numerous passers by. The day, though cold, 
 was clear and bright, and the family groups that moved 
 through the street formed a pleasant picture. 
 
 * Should you like to take a walk ?' asked she, moved by a 
 sudden impulse to run away from her thoughts. 
 
 The proposition was hailed with acclamations of delight. 
 The boys ran for their coats and hats, while Mabel prepared 
 
156 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 for the excursion with an air of indifference strangely at vari 
 ance with her once elastic movements. They had proceeded 
 some distance down one of the avenues, without any special 
 destination in view, when Alick suddenly exclaimed, * O 
 Aunt Mabel, why can't we go and see Rosy?' 
 
 * We can/ said Mabel, * if it will not be too long a walk for 
 Murray.' 
 
 Murray protested against the possibility of his being fatigued, 
 and they at once took the direction toward Mrs. Hope's humble 
 dwelling. The quarter in which she lived was poor, but 
 respectable and orderly, and they reached the house without 
 adventure, though not without attracting the attention of the 
 neighbourhood, who seldom had an opportunity to witness the 
 dress and bearing of the wealthier classes. They found the 
 windows of the little shop closed, with wooden shutters ; and 
 the j.door, too, was fastened ; so that Mabel's repeated knocks 
 were unanswered. Disappointed at having come so far to no 
 purpose, and fearful that some misfortune had befallen the 
 family, she looked about her to find, if possible, some other 
 mode of entrance and, at length, proceeding to the end of 
 the building, discovered a low, dark alley, which appeared to 
 lead to the rear of the dilapidated tenement. 
 
 She felt some hesitation in entering this unexplored passage 
 way, but it was no part of her character to be turned from a 
 worthy purpose by the indulgence of idle fears ; and bidding 
 the children follow her closely, she penetrated to the extremity 
 of the alley, and found herself in a narrow yard, enclosed by 
 mouldy walls of brick, encumbered with rubbish, but extend 
 ing, as she had conjectured, across the rear of the entire 
 building*. Several doors opened upon this common court 
 yard, and she was at a loss to distinguish that of Mrs. Hope, 
 when the widow herself emerged from one of them with a pail 
 in her hand, and was proceeding in the direction of the pump 
 that stood against the wall ; but seeing and recognising Mabel, 
 she gave a quick start of surprise, and, setting down her pail, 
 came to meet her, with an air of mingled pleasure and em 
 barrassment. 
 
 The latter feeling partially subsided, as Mabel made haste 
 to apologize for her seemingly clandestine entrance, and in 
 quired with cordial interest concerning Mrs. Hope's welfare, 
 and that of Rose. 
 
 < Rose is pretty well just now, for her,' said the widow, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 157 
 
 ' She'll be right glad to see you, Miss Yaughan. She's got 
 her little Sunday-school in the back room this afternoon, and 
 I suppose it was their singing that drowned your knock ; 
 they've got considerable voice, little tots as they are. They 
 are most through now ; walk in, Miss Vaughan, it's a sort of 
 a pretty sight. You won't disturb them,' added she, observing 
 that Mabel hesitated and, stepping within the woodshed at 
 the rear of her own contracted tenement, she threw open the 
 door of the kitchen, and motioned to Mabel to advance as far 
 as the threshold. 
 
 She did so without attracting observation, and, holding up 
 her finger, she enforced silence upon the boys, who also pressed 
 forward and peeped in. 
 
 Rose was seated in her little arm-chair in the centre of the 
 room, and around her were grouped some half dozen children, 
 none of whom could have been more than seven or eight years 
 of age. Their eyes were fixed upon Rose's face, while she 
 repeated, slowly and distinctly, the last verse of the hymn 
 they were singing. It ran thus : 
 
 Bright in that happy land 
 
 Beams every eye ; 
 Fed by the Father's hand, 
 
 Love cannot die ; 
 Oh ! we shall happy be, 
 When, from sin and sorrow free, " 
 Lord, we shall reign with thee, 
 
 Blest, blest, for aye. 
 
 As Rose spoke the last word, the children commenced sing 
 ing. It was sweet and touching to hear their childish voices 
 uniting in the simple melody which Rose had taught them. 
 But it was sweeter and more touching still to see them, when 
 the hymn was finished, assume a kneeling posture, and repeat 
 after her the words of the little closing prayer with which 
 they were accustomed to separate. 
 
 The tears started to Mabel's eyes, and with instinctive 
 deference to the solemnity of the service, she retreated at its 
 conclusion, and, drawing Alick and Murray back into the 
 outer shed, closed the door noiselessly, that the little company 
 might not be conscious of intrusion. 
 
 'They're mostly German children,' said Mrs. Hope to 
 Mabel, in explanation ; 'this is a German neighbourhood, 
 rather; they can't get much education in the schools for want 
 
158 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 of knowing the language. Rosy first taught them English, 
 and then how to read and say their prayers ; singing comes 
 natural to 'em. That makes fifteen she's taught, and some of 
 'em are bigger than she is, poor child. It ain't much,' added 
 the mother, with a meditative air, 'but then it's better than 
 nothing, to be sure ; and it makes Rose happy.' 
 
 6 Better than nothing !' exclaimed Mabel, earnestly, ' yes, 
 indeed, it is everything.' 
 
 And Mabel felt what she said. In that moment of excited 
 feelings, the wealth, the learning, and the pride of this world 
 sank into nothingness, in comparison with the pure and child 
 like faith which takes hold on eternal life. 
 
 Alick and Murray were no less impressed than Mabel, as 
 was evident from their awe-struck silence and inquiring faces ; 
 there was no opportunity, however, for any further .expression 
 of interest, for a confused murmur within the room was fol 
 lowed by the sudden exit of the little band of children, who, 
 after casting curious and lingering glances at Mabel and her 
 nephews, dispersed in different directions while Mrs. Hope 
 ushered the freshly arrived visitors into her neat though 
 humble kitchen. 
 
 Rose, somewhat exhausted with her labours, had thrown 
 herself back in her chair, but she revived at sight of Mabel, 
 and exclaimed with fervour, ' O dear Miss Mabel, how glad 
 I am to see you !' 
 
 It was with something like reverence that Mabel seated her 
 self beside Rose on a low stool, from which one of the children 
 had just risen, and taking her little shrunken hand, pressed 
 it with affectionate fervour. 
 
 ' I am glad to see you looking so well, Rose,' said she, gazing 
 into the child's face with a warm expression of interest. ' She 
 really has a colour in her cheeks,' observed she to Mrs. Hope, 
 who stood watching Rose's countenance with mingled pleasure 
 and anxiety. 
 
 ( Yes,' replied the widow, with some hesitation, ' I'm afraid 
 it ain't quite natural, though ; she's apt to be feverish about 
 this time of day.' 
 
 * You are tired, Rose, with teaching your little class,' said 
 Mabel. l It is too much for your strength, I think.' 
 
 * Oh, no !' exclaimed Rose, eagerly. ' It is very easy teach 
 ing them I love to.' And then, as if anxious to turn the 
 conversation from herself, she addressed numerous inquiries to 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 159 
 
 Alick and Murray, both of whom had pressed close to her 
 side, asking them concerning Lydia, their mamma, and the 
 mode in which they had come thither. Now and then she 
 turned her smiling countenance upon Mabel, with deep and 
 admiring affection, her glance in some degree expressing the 
 two-fold happiness which she experienced in the presence of 
 one in whom her own loving nature recognised a kindred 
 spirit, while the appreciation of the beautiful, which was in 
 herent in the little invalid, found in this new friend the perfect 
 and only illustration of its ideal. 
 
 It was with mingled emotions that Mabel perceived the 
 influence she exercised. As she met the admiring glance of 
 Rose, a glow of self-satisfaction overspread her face, such as 
 all the flatteries of the ball-room could not call up. But this 
 sentiment of gratified vanity was chastened and subdued by 
 an unwonted sense of un worthiness, which forced itself upon 
 her as she compared her own aimless life with the self-devotion 
 of the invalid child. 
 
 This latter sentiment asserted itself still more strongly 
 before the conclusion of the visit. 
 
 The little company were met together on more free and 
 familiar terms than on the occasion of their first becoming 
 acquainted. Mabel's easy cordiality disarmed all embarrass 
 ment and reserve, and even the awkward constraint of the 
 widow Hope was not proof against the considerate kindness 
 of her manner. Thus the conversation became brisk and 
 general, the contrast in social position was well-nigh forgotten, 
 and the previous good understanding of the parties was ripen 
 ing into the confidence of friendship. 
 
 Something of Mrs. Hope's family history was elicited, some 
 reminiscences of her better days were called up, and her hopes 
 and fears for the future welfare of herself and family touched 
 upon. Rose's week-day employments, and her Sabbath labours 
 and pleasures, were enumerated and discussed, and Jack was 
 for the first time brought to Mabel's knowledge, through the 
 frequent mention which was made of him. 
 
 Into all this Mabel entered with ready interest, while a 
 corresponding sympathy was expressed in return, in the coun 
 tenances of both Rose and Mrs. Hope, when allusion was 
 incidentally made to the circumstance of her having been 
 motherless from her childhood. 
 
 Alick, meanwhile, was content to listen to the conversation, 
 
ICO MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 but Murray, not satisfied with playing the part of a silent 
 spectator, began to look about him for amusement; and, 
 espying on the table an exceedingly ragged and shabby-look 
 ing book, he tossed it on the floor, and commenced kicking it 
 contemptuously from one end of the kitchen to the other. 
 Observing ; Rose's eye wander towards him, Mabel turned, 
 saw the nature of his occupation, and starting forward, checked 
 his play and rescued the volume, at the same time saying, 
 good-naturedly, * Murray, don't kick the poor old book. I'm 
 afraid you have no respect for age, my dear.' 
 
 Rose smiled. * It has done good service,' said she. ' Per 
 haps I like it better for that/ 
 
 Mabel opened it ; it was an ancient copy of ' Pilgrim's Pro 
 gress.' As she turned over the leaves she directed Alick's 
 attention to the fact, that it was a copy of the same work she 
 had bought for him, at his own request, a few weeks 
 before, when he chanced to be with her in a bookstore 
 and took a fancy to the richly-bound and beautifully illus 
 trated book. 
 
 4 Mine ain't like that/ said he, with rude disdain ; ' mine is 
 handsome that is a real ugly old thing.' 
 
 As he finished speaking, his quick eye detected the mortifi 
 cation which Rose's face evinced at his unflattering compari 
 son ; and, regretting his thoughtlessness, he at once endeavoured 
 to atone for it, by exclaiming 
 
 4 Rose ought to have one like mine, Aunt Mabel.' 
 
 * She shall have one, 7 said Mabel, unhesitatingly. ' I will 
 bring you one like Alick's with pleasure, Rose, if you would 
 like it.' 
 
 Rose smiled pensively, but with evident satisfaction. 
 
 Alick's face glowed with delight as, without giving Rose 
 time to reply, he proceeded to expatiate to her upon the rich 
 binding, gilt-edged leaves, and illuminated margins of the 
 volume she was to possess. 
 
 ' Shan't you like it, Rose ?' said he, w r hen he had finished 
 the description. 
 
 6 Will it cost much?' asked Rose, thoughtfully. 
 
 ' Oh, yes !' said Alick, confidently. 
 
 ' As much,' said Rose, looking at Mabel, and at the same 
 time taking up a well-worn Testament which lay beside her, 
 and a few stray leaves from a primer, ' As much as two new 
 ones like these would cost ?' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 161 
 
 * As much as half a dozen like each of those,' replied 
 Mabel, a little astonished at the question. 
 
 ' Oh!' exclaimed Rose, with deep-drawn breath, 'I should 
 rather have them.' Then, the excitement of her tone sub 
 siding-, she added, with slight hesitation, ' But perhaps I ought 
 not to be the one to choose.' 
 
 4 Yes, you ought,' replied Mabel, while Alick looked 
 greatly disappointed. ' You shall have whichever you please, 
 or both.' 
 
 * Oh, yes, both !' said Alick, with a relieved and brightened 
 expression of countenance, 
 
 4 No, not both,' said Rose, with unmistakable decision. Her 
 practical mind, trained in the school of necessity, had seen no 
 impropriety in suggesting the change, but her deeply sensitive 
 nature recoiled from voluntarily placing herself under a double 
 obligation. 
 
 4 You shall have your own way, Rose,' said Mabel, who 
 had been watching her face with intense interest, 
 
 ' Then I should like the Testament and primers, best,' said 
 Rose. ' These are all we have had to read and study in, 
 Sunday afternoons, and they are almost worn out. The 
 little children can't read mother's Bible, because the long fl"s 
 puzzle them so ; how glad they will be to have each a Testa 
 ment of their own and how good you are, Miss Mabel.' 
 
 'I good !' exclaimed Mabel, with the deepest sense of hu 
 mility she had ever known ; ' it is nothing for me to furnish 
 them with the books, but how much they owe to you, Rosy ?' 
 And rising 1 from her low seat, and drawing her fur mantle 
 around her, as if about to depart, she stooped down and im 
 printed a kiss upon Rose's forehead, the action at the same 
 time serving to hide the emotion which had been excited by 
 the child's unhesitating generosity. 
 
 ' Is there nothing else I can bring you ?' asked she. ' Can 
 not you think of something that you could relish something 
 that would relieve you when you felt feverish at night ?' 
 
 ' Oranges !' shouted Murray, from a corner of the room, 
 where he had seated himself astride of one of the low stools. 
 Murray had but one pleasant association with fevers and sick 
 rooms, and that was oranges. Everybody smiled, and Mabel 
 availed herself of the suggestion. 
 
 i I will bring her some oranges, certainly,' said she, glancing 
 at Mrs. Hope, ' if you think they would be wholesome for her.' 
 
 M 
 
162 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 ' I dare say they might be refreshing 1 / said Mrs. Hope ; 
 'she usually has a sad feverish time towards morning. I tell 
 her it would not be so if she'd go to bed early, and not have 
 any excitement in the evenings ; but she sits up, playing jack- 
 straws and so on, and sometimes after she's in bed Jack props 
 her up with one thing and another, and there she stays work 
 ing out puzzles, and models, and I don't know what they 
 call 'em, until her poor back aches and she can't go to sleep/ 
 
 Rose looked uneasily at her mother as she entered this 
 complaint, and Mabel glanced inquiringly at Rose, surprised 
 at a charge which seemed to intimate a want of prudence and 
 docility in the youthful invalid. 
 
 ' You should not do that, Rose/ said she, as with both her 
 soft hands she smoothed the light hair from the child's trans 
 parent temples. ' Do you like games and puzzles so much ?' 
 
 6 Jack does/ said Rose, in a soft, meaning whisper, meant 
 only for Mabel's ear. 
 
 The words penetrated to the heart of the listener. There 
 was a depth of sisterly love, and a power of self-sacrifice ex 
 pressed in that simple utterance, which were irresistibly 
 touching in one whose feebleness might seem to excuse her 
 from all responsibility. 
 
 Mabel felt the full force of the example, which was to her, 
 at once, a lesson and a reproach. For a moment she stood 
 gazing at Rose, as if striving to read in her face the secret of 
 that divine strength which was victorious over the infirmities 
 of the flesh ; then, at a loss for words, and afraid perhaps of 
 betraying how deeply she was moved, she made haste to bid 
 her farewell ; and the boys having also taken leave of the 
 little invalid, they all followed Mrs. Hope into the shop, from 
 whence, having unbarred the front door, she ushered them 
 into the street. Before taking her leave, Mabel begged that 
 she might be kept informed through Lydia of Rose's state of 
 health, and be applied to without reserve if there was any way 
 in which she could minister to her comfort. 
 
 The day was fast drawing to a close, and, after accompanying 
 her little nephews to the hotel, Mabel proceeded with haste 
 towards her own home. 
 
 What a change had two short hours effected in her air, her 
 countenance, and her thoughts ! She had gone forth excited, 
 restless, and unhappy, and thus, also, she returned ; but how 
 chastened, subdued, and changed were all these emotions ! 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 1G3 
 
 Then she was excited by vehement regrets, restless with vain 
 longings, and unhappy from disappointed hopes. Now, her 
 spirit was disturbed, but it was by a new revelation of things 
 hitherto unseen ; she was eager and uneasy, but it was with a 
 vague longing to rise above her former self; she was dissatis 
 fied, but it was the discontent whose fruit is repentance unto 
 life eternal. 
 
 How soft, how gentle was the voice which had thus uncon 
 sciously roused a sleeping conscience ! It. was no startling 
 warning, no stern alarum, which had awed and bewildered the 
 trembling soul. It was but the soft breathing of a loving 
 heart, giving utterance to the gentlest tones ; but a still small 
 voice within responded to the whisper, and thenceforth could 
 not be silenced. She might resist it, she did resist it, for 
 earthly temptations are strong, and heavenly impulses brief 
 and evanescent. But it came again, an unwelcome intruder 
 on her gayer hours, a patient supplicant pleading with her in 
 her solitude. Like an angel sitting at the gate, warding off 
 all hostile influences and ever waiting to be heard, it silently, 
 secretly gathered strength for the hour when the heart should 
 be aroused by its trumpet-call, when the conflict should be 
 ended and the victory won. 
 
( 104 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 But deeper signs 
 Than the radiant blush of beauty, 
 
 The maiden finds, 
 Whenever his name is heard ; 
 
 The young heart thrills, 
 Forgetting herself her duty 
 
 Her dark eye fills, 
 And her pulse with hope is stirred. 
 
 MRS. OSGOOD. 
 
 WHILE under the influence of her visit to Rosy, and while 
 actuated by the gentle charities it had awakened, Mabel made 
 more than one effort to recover her former influence with 
 Harry, and regain his confidence. 
 
 She met with partial success. He seemed, at once, touched 
 and pained by the revival of those little sisterly attentions, 
 which had of late been carelessly performed, or wholly omit 
 ted. Occasionally, he manifested something of his old pleasure 
 in her society ; but in other instances, hurried away, as if her 
 presence were an unwelcome restraint. He avoided the slightest 
 reference to his late irregularities of conduct, but at the same 
 time hesitated not to express a deep disgust and weariness with 
 what he termed New York life. 
 
 Sisterly sympathy and perseverance on Mabel's part, might, 
 in time, have done much toward restoring the confidential rela 
 tions which had been wont to subsist between them ; but it 
 must be confessed, she soon met with a signal discouragement 
 to her efforts. 
 
 She had returned home at a late hour one evening, had 
 learned from the footman that Harry had not come in, and 
 feeling herself oppressed with more than usual anxiety, had 
 determined to await his arrival before retiring to rest. Youth, 
 however, craves its season of refreshment, and weariness gra 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 165 
 
 dually overpowering her senses, she threw herself upon a couch 
 in her own room and fell asleep. 
 
 She was awakened some hours later by the shufflingTof feet 
 outside her chamber door, accompanied by a confused and 
 noisy altercation. Starting up, her nerves trembling and her 
 whole frame agitated with a sudden dread, she distinctly recog 
 nised the voice of her father's footman, uttering vain and fruit 
 less expostulations, while Harry, in rough and abusive lan 
 guage, heaped upon him the most unsparing invectives and 
 threats. At the same instant a neighbouring door was suddenly 
 thrown open, and a third, and equally well-known voice min 
 gled in the debate, addressing Harry in stern, though suppressed 
 tones of command. A moment more, and there was the tread 
 of several feet upon the staircase leading to the next floor ; a 
 muttered resistance was evident on Harry's part, which gra 
 dually became lost in the distance, and then all was silent. 
 
 For several minutes Mabel stood, pale and breathless, with 
 her ear pressed close to the key-hole, but hearing no sound, at 
 length ventured to open her door and look out. She started 
 back, however, as if pierced by an arrow ; for, though she 
 gave but one glance without, it had revealed to her the figure 
 of her father descending the staircase, wrapped in his dressing- 
 gown, and shading with his hand the lamp which he carried, 
 while its light, falling full upon his face, proclaimed that he 
 knew the worst. 
 
 Mabel had long anticipated this or a similar scene ; still, 
 as her eye met the woe-struck countenance of her parent, pity 
 for Harry and mortification for herself gave place to a deep 
 and indignant resentment against the youth who could thus 
 bring down his father's grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. 
 She did not weep, she threw herself into no despairing attitude, 
 but slowly paced up and down the room, her soft hazel eye 
 glowing with an unwonted excitement, her delicately arched 
 lip curved with something not unlike scorn. It was long be 
 fore she could calm the tumult of her feelings, and when she 
 did so, there remained a dull, heavy, and despairing conscious 
 ness of misfortune, such as she had never felt before. The 
 family calamity had reached its crisis ; it was no longer a 
 secret, stinging anxiety, hid in her own bosom ; it was a me 
 lancholy but acknowledged fact. 
 
 With this thought, however, painful as it was, there yet 
 mingled a sense of relief. She had hoped that her father 
 
166 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 might long be spared this blow, but, since it had come, it 
 rested with him to ward off, if possible, future strokes. Some 
 decisive means might yet be adopted for reclaiming the mis 
 guided youth, and if so, the afflicted parent would not fail 
 to take the necessary steps. Whether or not these bolder 
 measures required the aid of her gentle influence, she did not 
 pause to consider ; but too easily discouraged in her own 
 feeble endeavours, and too readily excusing herself from 
 further participation in efforts for the reformation of her 
 prodigal brother, she gladly cast off her share of the burden. 
 Thus, with a heavier heart, but a lightened sense of personal 
 responsibility, she finally sought her couch. 
 
 It was at this crisis that Dudley returned to the city. A 
 fortnight's sojourn in the climate of Canada, to which place 
 anxiety concerning some property had suddenly called him, 
 had effectually cooled his petty jealousy, and he now strove 
 sedulously to obliterate the recollection of it from Mabel's 
 mind. It was no difficult task. In the quick beating of her 
 heart at his presence, she forgot all past estrangement, while 
 the light in her eye, and the glow on her cheek, proved that 
 no painful remembrance was suffered to interfere with her 
 pleasure at his return. 
 
 It was now the month of March. The winter gaieties of the 
 city had subsided, and the fashionable world were already 
 beginning to look forward, with eager anticipation, to the 
 approaching summer campaign. In this comparative lull 
 between the dissipations of the metropolis and the watering- 
 place, Dudley found the opportunity to engross more ex 
 clusively than ever the mind and heart of Mabel. The 
 brilliant, scenes of fashion no longer claimed their queen ; the 
 accomplished opera troupe had sailed for Havana ; Mabel's 
 circle of admirers had, for the most part, either boldly urged 
 their unsuccessful suits, or timidly withdrawn their hopeless 
 claims to her favour ; the weather was unfavourable for the 
 popular drive or promenade ; and now, if ever, was the time 
 when intellectual amusements, refined tastes, and artistic 
 pursuits, might easily claim their empire. 
 
 Scarcely a day passed without affording Mabel the pleasure 
 of Dudley's society. A new book, a rare flower, the announce 
 ment of an exhibition of choice paintings, the discovery of 
 some interesting fact in the scientific world, any of these 
 were sufficient excuse for a visit ; or, if these failed, such were 
 
MABEL V A UGH AN. 167 
 
 his address and tact, that he well knew how to ren'der himself 
 essential in any scheme of pleasure or entertainment which 
 met her approbation. In Dudley's society, within the magic 
 sound of his low, persuasive voice, and under the fascinating 
 influence of his dark, dreamy eyes, Mabel had no leisure for 
 any other contemplations or thoughts than those which his 
 presence awakened ; while, in searching with him after the 
 beautiful in poetry, nature, and art, she was unconscious that 
 life afforded the opportunity for higher or nobler pursuits. 
 
 Fatal as this ascendancy was to her truest and purest aspi 
 rations, it may well be believed that it did not tend to en 
 courage those schemes of sisterly benevolence and charity 
 which she might otherwise have cherished ; for Dudley was 
 not the man, under any circumstances, to risk his own un 
 stained reputation by the attempt to countenance and uphold a 
 falling friend. Mabel was not long in becoming conscious of 
 the gradual decay of his intimacy with Harry, and thus both 
 his example and influence tended to discourage her efforts and 
 hopes in her brother's behalf; while his dominion over her 
 thoughts was such as to soothe the mortification she suffered 
 at the misconduct of the unhappy youth, and allay her fears 
 for his possible fate. 
 
 Whatever might be his motive, or even if he had no 
 serious motive at all, Dudley spared no pains to establish an 
 exclusive empire over Mabel's heart and life, and voluntarily 
 submitting to his guidance, she yielded herself to his wishes 
 and tastes, allowed herself to be swayed by his opinions, and 
 blindly adopted his maxims. 
 
 Thus he was satisfied, and she was happy. 
 
 At least she believed herself happy. It was a strange, 
 fitful, capricious mingling of emotions, unworthy of that name 
 which expresses what is rarely found on earth, the essence of 
 all joy. It was a happiness purchased at the price of much 
 imagined, much hoped for, much forgotten. It was but the 
 fluttering of a young heart which had not yet found a resting- 
 place. Alas ! like the dove let loose from the ark. it would 
 long seek repose in vain. 
 
 Such as this so-called happiness was, it was subject to many 
 interruptions. Like all selfish natures, Dudley was ungenerous 
 even in his affections. He demanded more than he gave. He 
 scrupulously avoided any other declaration of his sentiments 
 toward her than that which his whole manner conveyed ; but 
 
168 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 still, assuming- rights to which he had established no claim, he 
 hesitated not to exercise his influence over her habits of 
 thought and life, and even presumed to criticise, and occasion 
 ally, as we have seen, take umbrage at her conduct. 
 
 It was true, he possessed a grace and tact which knew how 
 to veil what was in reality officious, beneath an air of flattering 
 assiduity, and his eccentricities furnished an excuse for what 
 would have been overbearing in another ; still, Mabel's spirit 
 could not easily brook the inequalities of his manner toward 
 her, and she occasionally met his sudden coldness and constraint 
 with a haughtiness equal to his own air of petrified reserve. 
 
 Then followed intervals of unacknowledged but evident 
 alienation, when Mabel, suddenly thrown upon her own re 
 sources, experienced a reaction which made her past elation of 
 spirit seem a delusion and a mockery. 
 
 During these intervals, all the elements of unhappiness in 
 her home presented themselves with redoubled force. 
 
 Her aunt's complaints and inuendoes, which had formerly 
 been limited to the unamiable deportment of Mrs. Leroy, and 
 the impositions she continually practised upon her circle of 
 relatives, had now found a new and inexhaustible subject, 
 in that still greater cause of apprehension and distress, whicJl 
 Mabel had so dreaded to have come to her knowledge, but 
 with which she had inevitably become acquainted. Louise 
 had acquired more boldness than ever in her schemes of de 
 ception and self-indulgence ; while Mabel's temper was inces 
 santly tried by her sister's heartless indifference to her pleasure 
 and convenience. A certain fixed rigidity of expression served 
 to cover and conceal the emotions and purposes of Mr. 
 Vaughan's mind, but there was a stoop in his hitherto erect 
 figure, and a hollowness in his pale cheeks, which stamped him 
 as an old man, worn with care. And Harry ! Ah ! poor 
 Harry ! Where and what was he ? Mabel dared not ask or 
 think. But the eye that could no longer look fearlessly into 
 that of his fellow-man ; the hand that hesitated ere it grasped 
 the hand of him who had once been a friend : the face from 
 which youth and beauty were rapidly passing away ; all these 
 were silent witnesses to a sad arid sorrowful tale. 
 
 But, not only did these intervals of solitary reflection bring 
 up in long array the trials of Mabel's lot; they brought with 
 them, also, another remembrance, which was banished from 
 her gayer and happier hours, the remembrance of one who, 
 
MABEL VATJGHAX. 169 
 
 amid privation, hardship, and pain, had learned life's holiest 
 lesson, and finding in her little sphere a humble path of duty, 
 trod it with the heroism of a martyr, and the patience of a 
 saint. She could not be blind to this living example, nor deaf 
 to the secret monitor it had awakened in her heart. False 
 theories and selfish reasonings might shake her faith in ab 
 stract principles, but no sophistry could refute or obscure the 
 sacred truth which emanated from the life of Rosy. 
 
 The thought of this pious little pilgrim, and her daily walk 
 with God, could not fail to awaken in a nature so candid and 
 impressible as Mabel's, many a pang of self-questioning and 
 self-reproach ; but with these salutary stings of conscience 
 there came other and no less beneficent influences, which 
 were at once welcome and sweet. 
 
 The heart that w r as wounded and grieved by unkindness, 
 misconstruction, and reserve, found repose and refreshment in 
 the thought of one, whose spirit, bathed in divine love, scat 
 tered abroad the heavenly dew of a true and tender sympathy ; 
 while hopes that were rudely crushed under a weight of trial, 
 were renewed and sanctified by the blessed assurance that 
 there is a rest, even on earth, which remaineth for the people 
 of God. 
 
 Mabel's spirits were invariably calmed and soothed by a 
 visit to Rosy ; her mind at once subdued and strengthened. 
 She felt something of the patience wich springs from submis 
 sion ; some ray of the hope that comes by faith. She went 
 her way, if not fortified with a holy purpose, at least imbued 
 with a humble desire to imitate, while self was for the time 
 forgotten in a strong and living desire to do something for 
 the welfare and happiness of others. 
 
 These disinterested and generous aspirations were often dis 
 couraged by difficulties, or palsied by indifference, before an 
 opportunity presented itself for proving their existence ; but 
 occasionally their influence might be detected in the generous 
 earnestness with which she sought to carry out some benevo 
 lent or praiseworthy purpose. 
 
 She was driving one day through a street not very distant 
 from Mrs. Hope's residence, when her attention was attracted 
 by some uncommonly fine fruit, displayed in the window of a 
 grocer's shop. She had observed, on a recent visit to Rosy, 
 that the stock of oranges with which she had of late kept her 
 constantly provided, was nearly exhausted, and it occurred to 
 
170 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 her that she would take advantage of being in the neighbour 
 hood to renew the supply. She hastily pulled the check 
 string, and Donald, in obedience to her orders, drew up his 
 horses in front of the shop, his somewhat scornful countenance 
 expressing the surprise he felt that his young mistress should 
 have occasion to enter so insignificant a grocery establishment. 
 Mabel, however, much more independent than her fastidious 
 coachman, quite unconscious, indeed, of derogating from her 
 dignity, alighted without hesitation, and entering, commenced 
 making her purchases. 
 
 While the youth who waited on her was engaged in weigh 
 ing some grapes, her attention was attracted to a couple of 
 boys who were lounging outside the counter. 
 
 i I say. Jack/ said the taller of the two, 'if you'll wheel 
 that 'ere load o' shells down to Tattam's, at the river side, I'll 
 treat to seats in the pit at the Bowery, to-night ? Come, old 
 fellow, what do you say to that? Tom Ratlin plays "The 
 Devil among the Scullions " that'll be sport. Tom Ratlin's 
 the boy for me ! Come, say done to that.' 
 
 ( I won't touch none o' your old oyster shells,' answered 
 the boy who was thus addressed, a short, stout, freckled, and 
 thick-lipped urchin, whose great prominent teeth gave a 
 peculiar expression to his face, but who had, nevertheless, a 
 frank, honest, and, on the whole, prepossessing countenance. 
 
 ( You won't ?' answered the first speaker * more fool you. 
 It pays enough sight better than sellin' your mother's 'lasses 
 candy ;' and he glanced contemptuously at a tray loaded with 
 that article, suspended by a leather strap around the neck of 
 his companion. 
 
 The latter, evidently mortified and touched by this allusion 
 to his occupation, which he had in truth somewhat outgrown, 
 turned very fed in the face, and with mingled shame and 
 anger retorted, ' Candy sellin' is better business, any how, than 
 workin' for folks that promise big and don't pay at all. 
 Better settle old scores 'fore you talk o' runnin' up new ones.' 
 
 ' I don't owe yer nothin/ replied the first speaker angrily. 
 
 ' Don't yer ?' exclaimed Jack. l What did ever I get, I 
 want to know, for luggin' them two kegs of oysters from your 
 old man's cellar down to the Jersey ferry? jSace kind o' 
 business, wasn't it? to see you jump on board the boat with 
 your kegs, and go off a leavin' me in the lurch. I ain't for 
 got it, I tell yer.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 171 
 
 The larger boy laughed boisterously at this reminiscence, 
 seeming to think it a capital joke. ( Why, what could I 
 do ?' exclaimed he ' couldn't keep the boat a wait'n 
 hadn't no chance to bribe the capt'n ; had to be off in a 
 jiffy. But, look here Jack,' continued he persuasively, 'you 
 wheel the shells down to Tattam's, and I'll pay up honour 
 bright !' 
 
 1 What, pay for both jobs this and t' other one too ?' 
 
 ' I guess so. I'll see.' said the tall boy evasively. 
 
 i Ko, none o' yer guessin', Bob, we'll have a clear bar 
 gain this time.' 
 
 ' Well, well,' said Bob, 'you shall have a chance at her 
 theatre, any way/ 
 
 ' And the cock-tail, too?' 
 
 ' 'T wa'n't a cock-tail I promised,' said Bob. 
 
 * 'T was a cock-tail, 't wa'n't nothin' else,' retorted Jack, 
 with spirit. 
 
 ' Oh, Jack ! you're goin' it like a fine feller,' exclaimed 
 Bob, slapping him on the shoulder ; ' Tom Ratlin and acock- 
 tail. Weil, you shall have both on 'em if you'll go right 
 away. I'll have the shells round here in the wink o' your 
 eye. I left the wheelbarrow just round the corner ; you hold 
 on till I fetch it,' and with these words Bob shot off through 
 a side door, to complete his bargain. 
 
 * What does he mean ? what is he going to give that 
 boy?' asked Mabel, of the youth who was tying up the 
 purchases. 
 
 The lad looked up, met her earnest, inquiring eye, and 
 stooping down to bite off a piece of twine, endeavoured to 
 hide a smile which was creeping over his face. 
 
 Mabel, observing his hesitation, repeated her question, and 
 the youth looking up again, and seeing the immovable gravity 
 of her features, composed his o\vn, while he said, in answer to 
 the second query 
 
 ' Mean by what, ma'am ? a cock-tail ?' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 1 Something to drink.' replied the young man ; and unable 
 now to conceal how much he was amused at Mabel's curiosity, 
 he laughed outright, at the same time collecting his parcels 
 with the view of taking them to the carriage. 
 
 i I thought so I was afraid so,' said Mabel, her features 
 still grave and reproachful; ' it is a shame!' Then, as the 
 
172 MABEL YAUGIIAN. 
 
 shopman's clerk passed out with the packages, she hesitated, 
 and finally walked directly up to Jack, who was casting a 
 side-long 1 glance at her, as if he suspected himself to be te 
 subject of remark. 
 
 ' Don't you take it/ said she, kindly and impressively, at 
 the same time giving more force to her words by laying a 
 gentle, restraining hand on Jack's arm. 
 
 Jack Jack Hope, for he it was, though Mabel had no sus 
 picion of the fact looked up, met her mild, reproving glance, 
 cast an eye at the same time at her rich garments, striking air, 
 and noble figure, and then looking down with a half-defiant, 
 half-mortified expression, stood kicking one foot against the 
 counter. 
 
 i What shall I give you not to take it ?' asked Mabel, after 
 a pause. 
 
 Once more Jack's eye met hers, but drooped the next in 
 stant beneath the compassionate and imploring expression with 
 which she gazed into his face. 
 
 There was another instant of silence, for Jack made no 
 reply to her question. 
 
 Mabel now drew a gold dollar from her purse, and laid it 
 on the counter. Jack glanced at it with an eager longing 
 that could not be mistaken, but this time he did not venture 
 to look up at Mabel. 
 
 ' Do you want that ?' said she. 
 
 4 1 want it bad,' said the boy, ' but but ' 
 
 'But what?' 
 
 Jack hesitated, then said, bringing out his words with a jerk, 
 as if they were forced from him, * I don't like to be bought off 
 it's mean.' 
 
 Mabel was struck with the boy's rude sense of honour ; she 
 looked puzzled for a moment, then said, ' Isn't there some one 
 at home you could spend it for ? haven't you a mother or a 
 sister ? it would not be mean if you bought something for 
 them.' 
 
 Unconsciously she had struck the master-chord. Jack 
 looked searchingly up in her face, forgetting his former awe 
 in the deeper curiosity to discover how she had pierced his 
 secret thoughts. 
 
 Mabel saw her advantage, and acted upon it. 
 
 ' Do not take what that wicked boy promised you,' said she, 
 ' and don't go to the theatre either ; keep out of such bad com- 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 173 
 
 pany, or you will be ruined ; here, you shall have the dollar, 
 and welcome, only don't put it to a bad use; perhaps you can 
 think of something to buy with it that will please them all at 
 home, and make them proud and happy/ 
 
 i I do want it for somethin' particklar.' said the boy ; ' it 
 a'n't nothin' bad, as true as the world it a'n't.' 
 
 ' Well, then,' said Mabel, ' take it ; I believe you, for you 
 look as if you were speaking- the truth ; here, put it in your 
 pocket.' 
 
 ' What shall I tell Bob ?' said the boy. in audible soliloquy. 
 
 'Oh, don't tell him anything ; run oft" before he comes 
 back ; that's the best way.' 
 
 Jack smiled at the earnestness of his beautiful Mentor, and 
 lifted his tray of candy, which he had lain down in anticipa 
 tion of entering Bob's service. 
 
 In her eagerness to see him depart, Mabel stretched out 
 her delicately gloved hand and assisted him in fitting the 
 leather strap to his shoulder. 
 
 4 There, now run,' said she. smiling with pleasure at her 
 own success. ' Good bye ! remember !' and Jack trudged off, 
 looked back once or twice to watch her as she entered her 
 carriage, and then took to his heels, according to her recom 
 mendation. 
 
 About half an hour afterwards, as Mabel was sitting in the 
 widow Hope's shop, talking with Rose, while Donald was 
 pacing his horses up and down at some little distance from the 
 house, the shop-door was violently flung open, the bell which 
 was attached to it rung unmercifully, and Jack rushed hastily 
 in, holding up his dollar and exclaiming, ' Hurrah, Rose ! no 
 matter now where I got it, but here is just money enough to 
 pay for ' he had reached this point in his exclamation, when 
 he suddenly caught sight of Mabel, who had been hitherto 
 concealed by the door behind which she sat. He stopped 
 short, staggered back in his astonishment, turned very red in 
 the face, and without pausing for question or apology, clapped 
 both fists to his mouth, and darted out as abruptly as he had 
 entered. 
 
 Rose, sadly mortified at this unmannerly entrance and exit, 
 endeavoured to excuse him to Mabel by remarking, ' That is 
 Jack he isn't much used to company.' 
 
 But Mabel, whose mind was wholly occupied with the coin 
 cidence which had thus proved the candy-boy to be identical 
 
174 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 with Rose's brother, did not seem to hear her, and Rose, fear 
 ing- from her silence that she was displeased, suggested, in 
 further extenuation of Jack's behaviour, * He is not always so 
 rude, Miss Mabel/ 
 
 4 Rude ! Oh, no !* answered Mabel, promptly, recovering 
 from her momentary abstraction, and observing Rosy's trou 
 bled expression ; ' he did not mean to be rude ; he was sur 
 prised, that was all. I feel very much interested in Jack, 
 Rose. He seems to be a good-hearted boy.' 
 
 Rose looked inexpressibly gratified. * He is he is, Miss 
 Mabel/ exclaimed she, earnestly ; and thus encouraged to 
 speak on the subject, she did not pause until she had exhausted 
 the catalogue of his good qualities. 
 
 Mingled with her praises, however, it was not difficult to 
 detect a secret anxiety and doubt lest these very good qualities 
 should become corrupted by the evil influences to which his 
 street traffic inevitably exposed him, and with the clue fur 
 nished her by the occurrences of the morning, Mabel under 
 stood better than ever before the self-devotion and perseverance 
 with which his little invalid sister strove to keep him as much 
 as possible at her side. 
 
 This little incident failed not to leave a strong impression 
 on Mabel's mind. It had afforded her the happiness of per 
 forming a benevolent action ; it had created a new bond of 
 sympathy , bet ween herself and Rose; above all, it had re 
 vealed to her a fresh proof of the beauty and power of that 
 holy love which no selfish doubts can chill or blight, but 
 which, living on through suffering, change, decay, and death, 
 beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, and 
 endureth all things. 
 
175 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 And some we trusted with a fond believing, 
 
 Have turned and stung us to the bosom's core 
 
 And life hath seemed but as a vain deceiving, 
 From which we turn aside heart-sick and sore. 
 
 MRS. M. T. W. CHANDLER. 
 
 THE early spring months had passed away, the silent process 
 of nature had nearly reached its full development, and summer 
 was close at hand. The city parks were carpeted with a bright 
 green sod, and the elm trees waved over them the opening buds 
 and tassels of verdure, which were daily forming a thicker and 
 thicker canopy of shade. Birds sang in the branches, and now 
 and then perched on the eaves or open windows of the tall city 
 houses, while the soft breezes, the warmth of the mid-day sun, 
 the sound of children's voices, and the glow of animal life and 
 spirit which pervaded the streets and thoroughfares, gave 
 evidence of the renewing and revivifying power with which 
 summer and sunshine penetrate even to the heart of the great 
 metropolis. 
 
 It was a lovely morning, towards the close of the month of 
 May, when Mabel, with a miniature watering-pot in her hand, 
 stood listlessly gazing i'rom out her dressing-room window into 
 a beautiful open square directly opposite. She had been 
 engaged in watering a few plants, Harry's thoughtful gift 
 many months before ; but her mind had wandered from her 
 occupation, and though her eye was fixed upon the sunny green 
 sward of the little park, the dreamy smile upon her counte 
 nance proclaimed her to be roaming far away in the pleasant 
 I fields of imagination. Home still had its cares ; the present 
 its bitterness ; the future its anxiety ; but these had no part 
 in her present reverie, for, giving the reins to a charmed 
 fancy, and, for the time, banishing every painful thought, she 
 
176 MA DEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 was dwelling with fond and eager anticipation upon that ever- 
 fruitful prospect of enjoyment, a young girl's first journey. 
 
 Even before she left school, when all the pleasures of 
 freedom were yet untasted, there had been no theme more 
 exciting to her youthful enthusiasm than the confident hope 
 of one day visiting the romantic Falls of Trenton, the gigantic 
 cataract of Niagara, and the St. Lawrence, with its Thousand 
 Isles national elements of beauty and grandeur, with which 
 she rightly deemed it desirable to become acquainted, 
 before indulging still more glowing anticipations of foreign 
 travel. 
 
 These were but vague yearnings, however, in comparison 
 with the alluring visions which had recently been awakened 
 in her youthful and ardent nature, by one who, himself 
 familiar with the beauties of American scenery, possessed the 
 power to kindle her imagination and excite her feelings by 
 his animated description of the scenes of his boyish homage. 
 
 And if the eloquent tongue of Dudley had power to clothe 
 these grand and picturesque regions with a new halo of beauty 
 and romance, it may well be believed that Mabel's heart was 
 stirred with no common glow of delighted anticipation, at the 
 added hope she was now indulging, of visiting these favoured 
 spots in his companionship, being initiated by him into the 
 peculiar charms which pertain to each, and being suffered to 
 believe that the sight of her fresh enjoyment would awaken in 
 him a pleasure equal, if not superior, to that he had once 
 experienced in his o\vn. 
 
 Early in the spring, when Mabel's friends were discussing 
 their plans for the season, she had frequently mentioned her 
 expectation of spending the month of June in travelling. As 
 the time drew near, however, and Mr. Vaughan declared his 
 engagements to be such as to forbid all thought of the journey, 
 she freely expressed, amid her own little circle, the disappoint 
 ment which she felt at the project's being thus unexpectedly 
 abandoned. 
 
 f Why cannot we make an excursion party to the Falls ?' 
 exclaimed Dudley, one evening when, a small party being as 
 sembled in Mrs. Leroy's drawing-room, the subject was acci 
 dentally introduced. 
 
 4 Mrs. Leroy, Mrs. Broad head, do you like the idea ? 
 Come, Mr. Earle ; you just confessed yourself at a loss how to 
 get rid of next month,' and turning to various others, who 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 177 
 
 chanced to be present, he found some ingenious method of 
 recommending 1 his proposition to each. 
 
 The challenge, though playfully made, met with general ac 
 ceptance, and Dudley had the satisfaction of seeing his appa 
 rently careless suggestion acted upon at once. Most of the 
 company consisted of this world's idlers. the acknowledged 
 drones of society, who were restricted by no claims of business 
 or of duty, and the plan and route which Dudley proceeded 
 to sketch were unanimously adopted. 
 
 Mr. Leroy had left New York early in May, to attend to- 
 some important transactions at the West, and Louise was at 
 liberty to follow her own inclinations ; while Mabel, never 
 doubting the consent of her indulgent father, lent a ready ear 
 to a scheme which she believed to, be designed for her especial 
 benefit. 
 
 Thus a plan was concerted 3 which, gaining in popularity 
 from day to day, soon became the engrossing topic of interest 
 and conversation between Mabel and her friends; and while 
 all found in it a welcome source of pleasure, Mabel's heart 
 thrilled with a dreamy ecstacy of delight, as she listened to the 
 low-spoken words of hope and expectation which Dudley 
 breathed into her ear, as he talked of the promised journey, or 
 as she pondered in secret on the vague, half-uttered terms in 
 which he confessed his happiness to be in this, as in all things, 
 dependent on her own. 
 
 None of the party were willing to leave New York until- 
 after a fashionable and long-talked-of wedding reception, which 
 was to take place at a country seat a few miles from the city, 
 and, in anticipation of which, the fashionable world had been 
 content to linger in town to a later period than usual. 
 
 This festive occasion was now close at hand, and, as Mabel 
 stood at the window and counted up the days which must 
 elapse before the commencement of her little tour, her pleasant 
 reflections were interrupted by the thought, that she had not 
 yet found an opportunity to broach the matter to her father. 
 So confident was she, however, that the independence she had 
 hitherto enjoyed would not be interfered with in this particular^ 
 that she was dismissing the subject from her mind, with the 
 simple conclusion, I must not forget to mention it to him to 
 morrow, when her meditations were still further disturbed by 
 the unusual sound of his footsteps within her room, and looking 
 up, she found him close beside her with an open letter in his hand. 
 
 N 
 
178 MA DEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 He replied at once to the inquiring expression of her face, 
 saying, ' I have news from your Aunt Margaret, my dear.' 
 
 Mabel started, and a look of sudden alarm passed over her 
 face, for her Aunt Sabiah had left them a week before, in com 
 pliance with an invitation to pass the summer with her recently 
 widowed sister, and Mabel feared some accident had befallen 
 her. ' Is anything the matter ?' asked she quickly. ' Aunt 
 Sabiah' 
 
 ' Your aunts are both well,' interrupted her father ; e this 
 letter is in reply to a message I sent by your Aunt Sabiah last 
 week ; it comes very opportunely, it is very kind, very hos 
 pitable in your Aunt Margaret ; it gratifies me exceedingly,' 
 and he handed the letter for her perusal. 
 
 Mabel's face was expressive of mingled emotions as she read, 
 but puzzled surprise predominated ; and as she finished, she 
 looked up with the abrupt remark, ' About Harry"? I do not 
 understand it, father.' 
 
 1 Harry goes to L. next week,' said Mr. Vaughan, speaking 
 decidedly, with compressed lips, and in a tone which deprecated 
 curiosity or inquiry. ' He is to study law with my old friend, 
 Judge Paradox, and will begin immediately.' 
 
 Mabel was about to express astonishment at this sudden 
 choice of a profession, and question her father more closely ; 
 but observing the expression of his countenance, she checked 
 herself, satisfied rather to await such explanation as he might 
 think proper to give. 
 
 He gave none, however, but, as if deeming the announce 
 ment of his intentions with regard to Harry sufficient, went 
 on to say, in quick, disjointed sentences, and much as if 
 soliloquizing, l Your aunt not only proposes to receive Harry 
 until his rooms are in readiness, but gives you, I think, a very 
 cordial invitation to accompany him. I am very glad of this, 
 I wish you to know your aunt, I have not seen her 
 myself for these five years, it will be pleasant for you to be 
 with Harry, and the plan will in every way be a great relief 
 to me. I have just heard from Mr. Leroy, and find that my 
 affairs will compel me to join him at the West, immediately ; 
 so I shall close the house, and come to L. to meet you when 
 I return, which I hope will be before many weeks. I dread 
 the journey very much, but it cannot be postponed any longer.' 
 Mabel's countenance fell, as she listened to this programme 
 of her father's intentions and wishes j even the sight of his 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 179 
 
 haggard and anxious face failed to win her from the contem 
 plation of her own disappointment. She stood silent and 
 thoughtful, looked out of the window, bit her lip, and made 
 no reply. 
 
 Mr, Vaughan, who was slowly pacing the room, glanced 
 up at length, as if awaiting some response to his own expres 
 sions of satisfaction, and then said, watching her face mean 
 while, and speaking in the tone of considerate kindness with 
 which he always addressed her ' I hope you like the plan, 
 my daughter ; your Aunt Margaret is a stranger, to be sure, 
 but Sabiah is there, you know.' Already he had detected 
 her repugnance to the arrangement, and was solicitous to 
 place it in the best possible light. 
 
 i Yes,' said Mabel, hesitating, ' but I was in hopes' 
 
 Her voice faltered as she spoke, but her father reassured 
 her, drawing near, standing with his hands clasped behind 
 him, and patiently awaiting what she had to say, while he 
 aided her with the inquiry 4 What did you hope, my dear ? 
 had you any other plan at heart ?' 
 
 Thus encouraged, she acknowledged the scheme of pleasure 
 which she found it so hard to forego, explained the route, 
 enumerated the party, and, while she forbore to urge the 
 point, made no secret of her preference. 
 
 ' Louise is going ?' asked Mr. Vaughan, as he thoughtfully 
 resumed his walk up and down the room. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' And Harry ?' added he, with hesitation, ' did he expect to 
 make one of the party ?' 
 
 ' No,' answered Mabel, with a thrill of pain which was like 
 the sting of conscience, for she well knew that no one had 
 requested Harry's company on the excursion. 
 
 6 And you are very anxious to go ?' 
 
 * I was,' said Mabel, hesitatingly ; * Yes.' And with 
 nervous agitation she stood picking the withered leaves from 
 a geranium, while she awaited her father's decision. 
 
 Her cause was in safe hands, Mr. Vaughan had no 
 courage to disappoint her ; he could far better bear to be dis 
 appointed himself. So, after a short pause, he said, ' Very 
 well, you shall do as you please, my dear ; only I hope in 
 the course of the summer you will find time to make your 
 Aunt Margaret a short visit, at least. Suppose you answer 
 the letter, and tell her you will come in July or August.' 
 
 x 2 
 
180 M.M1EL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 Mabel promised to do so, and the matter being- settled, 
 Mr. Vaughan, who had no time to waste, hurried away to his 
 office. 
 
 Mabel stood and looked after him as he crossed the little' 
 park her kind, indulgent father, who could refuse her 
 nothing. How she thanked and blessed him ! Her aged and 
 care-worn father, with a stooping gait and a shadow on his 
 brow, was the deeper whisper of her conscience. Did she- 
 deserve from him a blessing in return ? 
 
 Her pathway, it is true, is free. He has left her at liberty 
 to go when and where she will ; his restraining hand places 
 no clog upon her footsteps, his love has broken down every 
 barrier to her looked-for happiness every barrier save one. 
 What that barrier was, let time reveal ! meanwhile there was 
 ever a dull, heavy impatient knocking at her heart, an 
 intruding thought, a stern and solemn appeal, striving to 
 make itself heard. Shall she give the strange, unwelcome 
 guest admittance ? 
 
 The question was answered by the sudden entrance of 
 Louise, who was full of excitement in view of the approaching 
 wedding and pleasure-party, and whose voluble tongue soon 
 put to flight every serious thought which had taken possession 
 of her sister's mind. She was criticising and commenting 
 upon various rich articles of dress which formed a part of 
 Mabel's spring wardrobe, when a figure of ample "proportions 
 presented itself within the door of the dressing-room, and a 
 loud voice exclaimed, i Ah, here you are ! Cecilia admitted 
 me, and I ventured to come up stairs without waiting to be 
 invited. Oh, Mabel, what a sweet bonnet ! fresh from Paris, 
 I'll bet a trifle ! And this is your travelling suit a shade 
 darker than Vic's, but beautifully trimmed, isn't it Lu ?' 
 And the stout Mrs. Vannecker, exhausted and breathless, 
 sank panting upon the sofa. 
 
 ' Throw off your mantle, and take a seat at this open 
 window,' said Mabel, observing the flushed and heated con 
 dition of her visitor. 
 
 'No, no, thank you, let me sit here,' replied the lady, 
 taking a fan which Mabel offered, and fanning herself vigo 
 rously. Oh, these are lovely !' observed she, examining 
 some rich flounced silks which, just received from the dress 
 maker's, hung over the arm of the couch. * That shade of 
 green is very trying, though, and the pink is rather pale. I 
 
MABEL VAUGHAK 181 
 
 dare say it will light up well, though. Vanity of vanities!' 
 she continued, in a theatrical manner, uttering at the same 
 time something between a sigh and an endeavour to catch her 
 breath ; ' What would Mr. Lincoln Dudley say, with his con 
 tempt for finery, if he should see all this exhibition of the fine 
 arts, as he calls it?' 
 
 Mabel looked up quickly, as Mrs. Vannecker thus quoted 
 her friend, but the tongue of the loquacious lady did not need 
 even the encouragement of a look. 
 
 4 1 declare, girls,' exclaimed she, { I say to you as I said to 
 Vic, this morning, I almost wish Mr. Dudley wasn't going 
 with us on our journey. I can't say I think him much of an 
 addition to the party, he has become such a stoic cynic, I 
 mean,' added she, after a pause, during which she discovered 
 her mistaken use of terms. 
 
 Mabel turned away and smiled not at the mistake, but at 
 Mrs. Vannecker's desire to exclude Mr. Dudley from a party 
 of his own arranging, into which she had intruded herself and 
 her daughter, uninvited. 
 
 ' Is he a cynic ?' said Louise, absently. ' Mabel, what did 
 De Trou make you pay for those flowers ?' 
 
 ' To be sure he is,' said Mrs. Vannecker, replying to the 
 first question. ' I don't know any better name for him. You 
 heard how he abused everybody and everything that night 
 at your house ; and last evening I met him at the Earles', and 
 such a setting-down as he gave the New Yorkers ! so many 
 jackanapes among the young men so many fine women 
 spoiled by fashion ! 1 assure you, I felt myself called upon 
 to act as their champion, and trust I was tolerably successful. 
 I talked him down, at all events that was one comfort.' 
 
 ' It must have required a large stock of words, I should 
 think, Mrs. Vannecker, to defend so poor a cause,' said Mabel, 
 betraying in her manner, no less than her remark, a disposition 
 to justify Dudley's severity. 
 
 ' A poor cause !' exclaimed Mrs. Vannecker. ' So you side 
 with my lord Dudley, do you, Mabel, and condemn society in 
 the same wholesale manner? Well, I have understood you 
 were a pupil of his.' 
 
 ' I do not speak of society generally,' resumed Mabel, ' but 
 an intellectual man, like Mr. Dudley, cannot be expected to 
 have much sympathy with silly women and coxcombs.' 
 
 ' And how many of us, do you suppose, he excludes from 
 
182 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 that list ? Not me, though I came under the privileged head 
 of " Present company," nor you, my dear/ added .she, with a 
 coarse laugh, ' though you are so ready to ratify his opinions. 
 You had your share of the lash, as well as the rest of us ; 
 however, don't look so crest-fallen,' added she, seeing Mabel 
 suddenly change colour and look down ; ( one must pay some 
 penalty for being the most popular belle of the season ; and if 
 nobody finds fault with you but a crusty old bachelor, like Mr. 
 Dudley, you mustn't complain, even if the world does give him 
 the credit of being a genius and all that.' 
 
 1 Old !' remarked Louise, ivho, engaged in trying on Mabel's 
 new bonnet only caught a word, now and then, of a conversa 
 tion to which she felt wholly indifferent. ' I don't call Mr. 
 Dudley old; he can't be much over thirty.' 
 
 ' I don't know his age,' answered Mrs. Vannecker, tartly. 
 ' I only know he has outlived his good humour. Why, when 
 Mr. Earle said something about Theodore Marston's beauty 
 and accomplishments, and the splendid establishment in which 
 he would install the lady of his choice,' and she gave a 
 meaning glance at Mabel, ' Mr. Dudley snarled as if some 
 body had stepped on his toes. I declare, if it had riot always 
 been said that he never bowed at any shrine, and was 
 not a marrying man, I should certainly think he had been 
 refused years ago by some reigning star, and had not yet reco 
 vered from the mortification. I suppose he comes under the 
 head of " poor and proud," and that accounts for his being 
 such a fault-finder.' 
 
 'Why, I thought Mr. Dudley liked society,' said Louise; 
 i we always meet him everywhere.' 
 
 ' To be sure,' said Mrs. Vannecker, ' and what is he there 
 for? To play the agreeable in company, and abuse people 
 behind their backs. Now, that is what I call being a down 
 right hypocrite. For instance : we all know how much he 
 has patronized Mabel this winter all because he thought it a 
 feather in his cap to be in the van of her admirers and now, 
 I will just tell what he said about her, if it's only to convince 
 the child that I didn't waste -words, as she calls it, without 
 provocation.' 
 
 Mabel stooped down and appeared to be busily searching 
 for some missing article in her bureau drawer, while Mrs. 
 Vannecker continued 
 
 ' You must know we were talking, as everybody is now, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 183 
 
 about Fan Broadhead's marriage with the colonel, and Mrs. 
 Earle remarked that she thought it a capital match.' 
 
 4 " Capital !" said Mr. Dudley, echoing Mrs. Earle's words. 
 "A most thorough-going, complete, and satisfactory con 
 formity with the usages of society. Beauty, youth, and all 
 the modern accomplishments set off against a town-house, a 
 country-house, a cottage at Newport, and a carriage for every 
 season of the year. Capital, upon my word!" 
 
 ' You can't imagine,' said Mrs. Vannecker, ' how bitter and 
 sarcastic his tone was ; and Mr. Earle, who is Fan's cousin, 
 you know, could not help noticing it.' 
 
 i " So, Mr. Dudley," said he, " you don't think there is much 
 sentiment in the matter." 
 
 '"Sentiment, pshaw!" said Mr. Dudley, "what has a 
 fashionable girl to do with sentiment ? The heart is the last 
 thing to be consulted when a New York belle marries." 
 
 ' "Why," said I, "there's Mabel Vaughan and Mr. Mar- 
 ston "' 
 
 ' Mrs. Vannecker !' exclaimed Mabel, looking- up with 
 crimson face and flashing eyes, ' how could you couple my 
 name ' 
 
 ' It was only by way of argument, my dear,' responded 
 Mrs. Vannecker. 
 
 ' Yes, but connected as you are,' faltered Mabel, 'it would 
 be thought ' 
 
 ' Nothing would be thought, but what is true, I suspect, or 
 will be one of these days ; if not, you can contradict the reports 
 that are circulating, my dear ; but let me go on with my story, 
 and you shall judge what Lincoln Dudley's opinion of you is. 
 
 '"There's Mabel Vaughan and Mr. Marston," said I, 
 " they are both young, and handsome, and accomplished ; do 
 you mean to say that is a match where there is no romance, 
 no affection between the parties ?" 
 
 * " I do," said he, looking at me as if I had insulted him. 
 " Miss Vaughan has too much sense to bestow her affections 
 on such a paltry bit of frippery." 
 
 ' " And yet, you believe she will bestow her hand on him?" 
 said I. 
 
 "' I do not pretend to question it," said he, in his decided 
 way. " Why should she not ? All fashionable girls are alike ; 
 they live for the world, marry to please the world, and 
 would die sooner^ than defy the world's opinion. Love in a 
 
184 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 cottage is no longer to be thought of. I will venture to say 
 that I do not know a woman in New York capable of sacri 
 ficing the love of display to any higher sentiment ; and Miss 
 Vaughan is the last who could be expected to prove an excep 
 tion to the rule. She has passed through all the phases of a 
 fashionable career, except the phase matrimonial, she will 
 scarcely stop short of the blissful climax." 
 
 4 There, that was a long speech, but I treasured up every 
 word of it, Mabel, for I was determined to tell you. I assure 
 you I was quite indignant at hearing him talk as if girls now- 
 a-days hadn't any feeling. I gave him a pretty sharp piece of 
 my mind, too, and I dare say he felt it, though he never made 
 me a bit of an answer, but bowed all round the room, in his 
 provokingly graceful manner, and went off as unconcerned as 
 you please. What do you think now, Mabel, of the justice 
 of Mr. Dudley's criticisms?' 
 
 Wounded feeling, pride, and indignation were all depicted 
 in Mabel's countenance. ' I think, Mrs. Vannecker,' said 
 she, evading a direct reply, ' that it is very unpleasant to be 
 made the subject of a drawing-room discussion, and in future 
 I must beg 
 
 1 0, my dear,'" interrupted Mrs. Vannecker, in a conciliating 
 tone, ' it was not an occasion of any consequence, there were 
 only half-a-dozen persons present, and I only mentioned you 
 and Mr. Marston as an instance of a young couple who were 
 every way suited to each other.' 
 
 'But it was a very mistaken instance,' persisted Mabel. ' I 
 have no interest whatever in Mr. Marston, and wish it to be 
 so understood.' 
 
 1 Oh dear ! what a fuss about nothing !' exclaimed Louise. 
 ' You know, May, if you are not engaged to Theodore Mar 
 ston, very likely you will be one of these days, there is not 
 such another match in the city.' 
 
 ' Why, Louise, I don't know what you mean/ exclaimed 
 Mabel, tears of vexation starting to her eyes. 
 
 Louise only replied by glancing, with an incredulous smile, 
 at Mrs. Vannecker, at the same time humming a popular air, 
 and practising before the mirror a few steps of a new and 
 difficult dance. ( It is growing very warm,' drawled she, in a 
 languishing manner ; ' I must go before it is any hotter. 
 You'll call for me in good time on Thursday morning, May. 
 I wonder if Fanny Broadhead will make a handsome bride.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 185 
 
 f Wait a moment, Lu,' said Mrs. Vannecker, snatching up 
 her parasol and scarf, and looking about her for her gloves. 
 * Vic will wonder what has become of me. So you don't 
 mean to have your engagement with Mr. Marston come out yet, 
 pet ?' said she, tapping Mabel lightly under the chin, as the 
 latter stooped to pick up one of the fallen gloves. 
 
 'No never!' said Mabel, with a vehemence unusual to 
 her. 
 
 ' Oh, don't say that,' replied Mrs. Vannecker, coaxingly, as 
 she squeezed through the doorway. ' Ask Harry to come in, 
 dear, and talk the journey over with us. Vic has twenty 
 questions to put to him/ 
 
 * Harry is not going on the journey/ said Mabel, quickly. 
 
 * Not going !' ejaculated Mrs. Vannecker, in a tone of un 
 mistakable chagrin. 'Do you really mean so? Why, you 
 astonish me. I took it for granted he was going so did Vic. 
 How came we to be so mistaken ?' 
 
 Mabel did not reply ; and the dismayed lady, after re 
 peated expressions of self-condolence, left the room, with the 
 words, ' I am disappointed, Harry not going What will Vic 
 say?' 
 
( 186 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 O changing child and woman, 
 Thou hadst not second sight! 
 Or bending down thy forehead white, 
 
 The human to the human, 
 The idol shadow would have made 
 Its light to vanish like a shade. 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 MABEL returned to her dressing-room, threw herself into a 
 seat at the open window, and, with her hands dropped listlessly 
 on her lap, and her eyes gazing vacantly into a piece of blue 
 sky opposite, became lost in thought. 
 
 ' So, Dudley thinks me a complete fashionist, a mere world 
 ling,' was her inward meditation. 'Who has had such an 
 opportunity of knowing me as he has? To whom have I con 
 fided my thoughts, hopes, and aspirations, so freely as to him ? 
 and, can he have thus misunderstood me? Can he really be 
 lieve me the cold, calculating, mercenary creature, whom he 
 professes to despise? How unjust ! how cruel! Is it my 
 fault that I move in a circle of fashion ? Is it anything but the 
 accident of my lot that placed me here? Are my views, mo 
 tions, actions, all to be measured by the standard of my frivo 
 lous acquaintances ? I did not choose them, they were chosen 
 for me, and I only play my part in the sphere assigned by na 
 ture. These fine clothes,' thought she, as, rising impatiently 
 from her seat, her eyes fell on the rich silks and laces which 
 were profusely scattered around, ' do I want them ? do I care 
 for them? Are they not the mere accompaniments of my 
 present position. This face and figure which the world calls 
 beautiful,' and she paused before the mirror, ' do I covet 
 beauty, save as it may make me attractive in his eyes? He 
 must know he does know that all else may frown and I care 
 not, so he only smiles. He talks of sacrifice, and yet believes 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 187 
 
 that I would crush my heart down rather than give up the 
 prospect of a brilliant establishment. Ah, which would be 
 the greater sacrifice ? He does not know the power of a 
 woman's love. I knew he despised others, but I never 
 dreamed that he had no faith in me.' 
 
 Ah ! that was a bitter pang indeed, that he should place 
 her thus on a level with the vain crowds, at whom she had so 
 often heard him sneer. Poor child ! She had trusted, with all 
 the warmth of her generous affections, in one who knew not 
 what it was to trust. The poisoned arrows, with which she had 
 thoughtlessly played, had rebounded and pierced her to the 
 heart. No wonder that she smarted at the sudden wound. 
 
 But her generous confidence was not weary yet, and the first 
 struggle with injured feeling being past, she was ready, with a 
 true woman's inventive charity, both to palliate the offence, 
 and excuse and pardon the offender. 
 
 'Mrs. Vannecker dislikes Mr. Dudley,' thought she, 'and 
 has no doubt given her own colouring to his words ;. things 
 sound so differently when repeated ; besides, she says he is 
 poor, I never thought of that. He cannot be poor, and his 
 talents would be priceless in any profession ; but in comparison 
 with Mr. Marstori's, his present means, perhaps, are limited/ 
 And Mabel's heart softened as she reflected on the bitterness 
 which a sensitive man might feel, as he contrasted his narrow 
 estate with the princely fortune of his rival. ' I have been 
 careless and imprudent, too,' thought she; 'no wonder he is 
 vexed, when strangers even are deceived.' And here Mabel 
 called to mind the frequent instances, unexplained till now, 
 when Mr. Dudley had turned coldly away at Mr. Marston's 
 approach, or, with harsh and cutting sarcasm, had commented 
 on the frivolous tastes and manners of the amiable and harm 
 less young man. 
 
 ' I must be more careful in future/ thought she. s For my 
 own sake, and the sake of what people think, I shall be cir 
 cumspect, and he shall never again have cause to feel vexed 
 with me on this point. 
 
 ' And so he believed me dazzled by the prospect of a bril 
 liant fortune ; and is that so very strange ? it has blinded 
 many a better girl than I. Real self; what I really care for ; 
 How can he tell that I like simple things and hate display ? 
 He has only seen me in a crowd of flatterers ; and in grand 
 rooms. Can he picture me as I was in my country home at 
 
188 :\1A1',EL VAUGIIAN. 
 
 Mrs. Herbert's? or imagine with wliatjoy I should shake off 
 the fetters and chains of this artificial life, and devote myself 
 to the sweet and welcome tasks which constitute the comfort 
 of a domestic fireside ? I have been unjust to myself and to 
 him ; I have appeared before him only in a false character, 
 and yet I expect him to believe me true. Henceforward he 
 shall know me as I am.' 
 
 Thus, by a process of reasoning-, in which the heart, and not 
 the head, furnished arguments, Mabel had finally arrived at a 
 conclusion which left her, as she believed, still mistress of her 
 own destiny. She had but to exercise the frankness, simplicity, 
 and truth, which were her own native characteristics, and, with 
 the knowledge she had obtained of Dudley's sensitive distrust, 
 she should have no difficulty in removing it. 
 
 More precious than ever now seemed the opportunity afforded 
 by the approaching journey ! We have seen with what fond 
 and romantic anticipations she had already looked forward to 
 the escape from city thraldom, to the enjoyment of a few weeks' 
 commune with nature, and with one whom she deemed nature's 
 fit interpreter, but now this long-talked-of excursion had sud 
 denly assumed a new significance, a vital interest ; it had be 
 come, as it were, the crisis of her life. 
 
 4 No need of all this finery,' thought she, as she hastily 
 folded and put out of sight the offending articles of dress, the 
 nervous trembling of her busy fingers keeping time to the im 
 patient fluttering of the young heart yearning for an occasion 
 to prove the genuineness of its devotion. ' There is no need 
 of much dress while I am travelling, that is one comfort ; I 
 can forget all the forms of a town life, and for a while, at least, 
 I can act myself, and be happy in the way I love best.' 
 
 And how were these sentiments responded to by the man 
 for whose sake this devoted young heart would have deemed 
 nothing a sacrifice ? Was this ready self-consecration met 
 with corresponding zeal ? 
 
 Alas! Mrs. Vannecker manoeuvring, gossiping, worldly 
 woman though she was had spoken some homely truths. 
 The cold, calculating, selfish Dudley well deserved the name 
 of hypocrite, for who is a greater hypocrite than he who 
 stamps another as a coward, while he himself is ready to play 
 the poltroon ? He had dared to question Mabel's disinterested 
 ness and capability of self-sacrifice ; could his own soul have 
 denied the truth, that he himself was guilty of the very weak- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 189 
 
 ness he contemned in another ? Mrs. Vannecker had pro 
 claimed his want of confidence in the woman he professed to 
 love, but this was but half the truth ; for truer, sadder, more 
 fatal still he had no confidence in himself, the idol whom he 
 loved supremely. 
 
 Thus, while seeing more plainly than Mabel did the ob 
 stacles to their union, unlike her he felt no generous ardour to 
 overleap them at a bound. It was true her habits were expen 
 sive, but so too were his, and confirmed by long indulgence. 
 The whole of his moderate income was but just sufficient for 
 his selfish wants; was there, then, anything to spare? He 
 knew very well that, only by a strenuous and manly exercise 
 of his talents and gifts, only by entering heart and hand into 
 the contest with fortune, could he achieve such a position of 
 usefulness and honour as would bring with it the pecuniary 
 independence which he lacked. And for this he had neither 
 the energy, the will, nor, above all, the faith ; faith in his own 
 powers of persevering endeavour, faith in noble purpose, and 
 in the providence which is sure to reward well-directed effort 
 with success. 
 
 What ! forego his wayward journeyings, desultory studies, 
 and artistic pursuits, and, plunging into the vortex of busy 
 life, task all his powers to win for himself a place among 
 earnest men ! His self-indulgent sensitiveness recoiled from 
 the idea. Abandon the refined circles of conventional society,, 
 forego the privilege of intellectual opportunity, and relinquish 
 the luxurious ease of a bachelor's establishment, for the seclu 
 sion, the privations,* and the every-day responsibilities of do 
 mestic life ! His aristocratic and fastidious nature spurned 
 the thought. 
 
 ' A few weeks more within reach of pretty Mabel's smiles ! y 
 was his reflection, as whiling away the warm hours of the 
 day, stretched on a couch in an apartment at his club, he 
 lazily watched the blue curling smoke of his cigar 'A 
 journey to the Falls with her pretty enthusiastic girl that she 
 is,' he sighed, for he would have loved Mabel had there 
 been room in his heart for so disinterested an emotion. 
 1 Well ah, well ! each season brings with it its pleasures- 
 and its claims. A trip to the Sandwich Islands next, per 
 haps, they say the climate is unsurpassed.' 
 
 Had there been an electric communication between his 
 heart and Mabel's, her airy castles of bliss would have fallen 
 
190 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 as beneath the lightning blast ; but there was no such "mag 
 netic link, and she went dreaming on. 
 
 She was still occupied with her own glowing and painfully 
 exciting meditations, when her solitude w r as suddenly broken 
 in upon by one, who of late seldom intruded within her 
 precincts. 
 
 It was Harry. He came in, heated with exercise, and 
 there was something of the ease and freedom of his old manner 
 in the unconcerned air with which he stretched himself on his 
 sister's comfortable sofa, and wiped the moisture from his 
 brow. 
 
 4 It is very warm,' said Mabel. 
 
 * Confoundedly hot/ replied Harry, taking up the fan Mrs. 
 Vannecker had been using. * I never knew such weather in 
 May before. I believe you've got the coolest place in the 
 house, though/ 
 
 There was a pause ; the subject of the weather exhausted, 
 this brother and sister, once so confiding, were at a loss for 
 anything to say. 
 
 After a few moments, however, Harry broke at once the 
 silence and constraint with the abrupt remark, ' So we are to 
 have a new character in the family.' Mabel coloured and 
 experienced a nervous tremor ; she feared the remark had 
 some reference to herself. She was reassured on this point, 
 however, as Harry continued in a tone of half-playful, half-in 
 dignant irony, ( Yes, nothing less than a lawyer, a rusty, 
 fusty lawyer. It is all cut and dried, without the slightest 
 reference to the principal party concerned ; old Judge 
 Paradox's office in L. is, I am told, the mint in which I am 
 to be coined into a legal instrument ;' and Harry laughed a 
 bitter laugh. 
 
 Mabel made no reply to this communication ; she felt 
 reluctant to acknowledge to Harry that she had already 
 learned the tidings from her father. 
 
 Harry, evidently engaged in some mental process, uttered 
 at intervals an exclamation of angry scorn, then at length 
 gave further vent to his feelings in the sudden outbreak ; 
 ' A pretty piece of business ! a ridiculous farce ! to undertake 
 to treat a man as if he were still a boy ! Though a boy, 
 even, if he had any spirit, would object, I think, to being dis 
 posed of in this way !' 
 
 Mabel now understood that Mr. Yaughan's arrangements 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 191 
 
 had been made without Harry's knowledge, or the slightest 
 reference to his wishes, and her quick mind saw at once the 
 probable consequences of this injudicious step, She knew 
 how vain it was to endeavour thus to control the youth, who 
 never, from his infancy, had submitted to restraint. 
 
 As if to give plausibility to the scheme, however, she 
 remarked, ' But, Harry, you always preferred that profes 
 sion ; I always supposed you would decide upon it.' 
 
 ' What if I did,' said Harry, sharply. ' Is this the season 
 of the year to commence a dry study ; and is the atmosphere 
 of L. likely to awaken a man's ambition ? No, my father is 
 much mistaken if he thinks I shall put myself under the 
 government of an antediluvian judge, or be tied to the apron- 
 strings of two old women. You can take up your residence 
 with the aunties if you choose, and sit between them all day, 
 learning the art of stocking-knitting ; but as for me, I can 
 assure you, my imagination takes a higher flight.' And as he 
 finished speaking, he compressed his lips, and threw his head 
 back on the sofa cushions with an air of resolution not to be 
 mistaken. 
 
 ' But, Harry/ exclaimed Mabel, ' think how you will dis 
 appoint father. I have no doubt his arrangements with his 
 old friend are all completed.' Her conscience smote her as 
 she spoke. Was it for her to remind her brother of his duty ? 
 Had she not also been included in her father's plans, and had 
 she not in like manner proved refractory ? 
 
 ' Look well to your diplomacy, then,' said Harry. ' I 
 shall charge you with a commission to his old friend, and 
 trust to you to execute it faithfully. Tell him that the air of 
 his neighbourhood does not suit my constitution, that I feel 
 myself called upon to try a different climate, that I have a 
 great repugnance to being buried in L. You start next week, 
 I suppose, on your enviable visit?' 
 
 'Mine?' asked Mabel, with evident embarrassment. 
 ' What, my visit to my aunt Margaret?' 
 
 ' Certainly ; have you not yet been informed of your agree 
 able destiny ?' 
 
 ' Yes no,' said Mabel with hesitation ; ' at least, I 
 mean " 
 
 ' You don't mean to back out, I hope,' said Harry, drawing 
 down the corners of his mouth, and speaking in a tone of mock 
 reproof. 
 
192 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 With mortification and difficulty, Mabel faltered out the 
 words, ' Why it happened so, that I was thinking of another 
 journey just at this time, and I concluded that that ' 
 
 ' That the air of L. would not suit you/ said Harry, with 
 emphasis, and a meaning laugh ; and here he precisely echoed 
 her tones of a moment before, ' think how you will disappoint 
 my father.' 
 
 * Oh, but it does not matter so much where I go/ said 
 Mabel, anxious to excuse herself. 
 
 Harry would listen to no such excuse, however. Her self- 
 indulgence and opposition to their father had, for the present, 
 placed her precisely upon his own level. He rallied her upon 
 her hypocritical attempt to awaken his filial sentiments, con 
 gratulated her upon her escape from parental thraldom, and 
 on the strength of the kindred tie established by their mutual 
 rebellion, so far resumed his brotherly right to her confidence 
 as to inquire into the nature of the trip she had in view, and 
 the expected companions of the journey. 
 
 Mabel sketched the plan of the tour, and enumerated the 
 party, closing with the name of Lincoln Dudley. 
 
 At the last utterance, Harry's only comment was an audible 
 * pshaw !' which Mabel well understood ; for she had become 
 instinctively conscious that the friendship once existing between 
 her brother and Dudley had given place to something less than 
 indifference. 
 
 Harry had risen from his recumbent posture on the sofa, 
 and stood apparently surveying a picture which hung on the 
 wall, but there was a bitterness in his expression that could 
 scarcely have been called up by the subject represented on the 
 canvas. 
 
 ' If you don't go to L./ said Mabel, diffidently, and with 
 painful hesitation, * you had better go with us.' 
 
 ' I !' exclaimed Harry, turning upon her almost fiercely 
 4 not I. I certainly should start for L. at once, if joining that 
 party were the only alternative ;' and, with these words, he 
 abruptly turned on his heel and left the room. 
 
 Once more alone, Mabel would gladly have resumed her 
 castle building but in vain ; flattering visions might dazzle 
 and bewilder her, but she no longer dared unhesitatingly 
 pursue them. There was a something which held her back. 
 Never had the simple voice of duty asserted itself with such 
 force as now. It seemed to whisper in stern and solemn tones, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 193 
 
 ' Child of earth, beware ! thy pathway here divides; thou art 
 free to turn either to the right hand or the left, but thou 
 canst not act for thyself alone. Perhaps thy choice may 
 involve thine aged father's peace, and determine the ruin 
 or reformation of thy brother. Mark then and choose aright.' 
 It haunted her until nightfall. It robbed her of her earlier 
 hours of sleep, it mingled in her later dreams, it greeted her at 
 the morning light and still she refused to listen. 
 
( 194 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 They who have rarest joy, know joy's true measure ; 
 
 They who most suffer/value suffering's pause ; 
 They who but seldom taste the simplest pleasure, 
 
 Kneel oftenest to the Giver and the Cause. 
 
 MRS. NORTON. 
 
 SUMMER, gentle, balmy summer, had found its way even to 
 the dreary part of the city in which Rosy lived. It came not 
 in bright streams of sunshine, breezes heavily laden with 
 sweets, or the music of gaily-singing birds. The close, dark 
 rows of buildings obscured the light, barred out the prospect, 
 and interrupted the refreshing gales, while the harsh and 
 unharmonious noises of the street alone fell on the listening 
 ear. Still Rosy, patiently sitting at her open casement, with 
 a soul alive to its opportunities and a heart grateful to their 
 source, saw more of nature's handiwork, and read in it more of 
 God, than many a dull-eyed, thoughtless traveller who, per 
 mitted to rove amid earth's fairest scenes, shuts his eye 
 to their beauty and grandeur, and closes his ear to their sacred 
 influence. 
 
 The little tufts of grass which had sprung up at the corners 
 of the opposite archway, had been watched in their growth by 
 Rosy, ever since the first green blade obtruded between the 
 uneven pavement and the foundation stones of the wall. The 
 morning sun, for an hour or more, shone on them with its 
 cheering beams, the afternoon shower refreshed them with its 
 gentle moisture, and day by day the sick child gleaned from 
 this her humble garden-plot fresh proofs of the love of Him 
 who watcheth over all. Within the narrow range of her 
 vision, early vegetables and summer fruits were disposed in 
 tempting array, each rivalling the other in its perfection and 
 richness ; and every successive luxury of the season, as it 
 appeared in its turn, awakened in Rosy's heart, loving and 
 grateful thoughts of Him who is the universal and bountiful 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 195 
 
 Provider. The noble team-horses, whose morning exit from 
 the archway she hailed with a daily smile of welcome, seldom 
 now returned at noon or nightfall without a branch of oak, 
 willow, or birch, waving above their heads, while the glow of 
 contentment and self-satisfaction which shone in the young 
 teamster's face, no less than the sprig of lilac which occasionally 
 adorned his hat, proved that he had been engaged in more 
 cheering labours, and among more exhilarating scenes, than 
 those which the city afforded. 
 
 The little tufts of grass were all that poor Rosy knew of 
 green fields and verdant waysides ; the early vegetables and 
 fruits which she saw, but seldom tasted, furnished her sole 
 experience of summer's wealth and bounty ; and the branches 
 which waved over the heads of the heated and weary team- 
 horses, alone afforded proof of the sweet and refreshing repose 
 which might be found beneath the greenwood shade. 
 
 But it was something to know, that somewhere beyond the 
 city lay the country, as beyond this world the Heaven of her 
 hopes; and imagination could sun itself in the joys of the one. 
 as the yearning soul could long and pant for the glory, the 
 peace, and the final rest of the other. 
 
 As she watched the grass grow beneath the archway, in the 
 sweet dreams of fancy she strayed among verdant fields and 
 sat down by rippling streams ; as she surveyed the tempting 
 display in the green-grocer's shop, she tasted, by means of 
 some inward sense, rich fruits whose names she scarcely knew ; 
 as the gentle breeze waved the green boughs above the horses' 
 heads, she seemed to hear the soft sighing of the summer wind 
 as it swept through the arches of a boundless forest. And 
 when, to crown her satisfaction, the ruddy, laughing teamster 
 gaily lifted his hat, removed the lilac branch from its crown, 
 and flung the cluster of purple flowers into the lap of the 
 pleased, astonished child, Ceres herself, with all her treasures, 
 was not more richly laden. 
 
 But summer, among its precious gifts, has brought no glow 
 of health to the cheek, no renewal of strength to the limbs of 
 the wasted girl. The close confinement of the long winter 
 had left her more enfeebled than ever ; the rough winds of the 
 early spring had rudely pierced to the seat of her fragile life ; 
 and now, the sudden heat which has succeeded serves only to 
 enervate still further her sunken and perishing frame. Cheer- 
 j serenely, hopefully as ever, the calm blue eyes are 
 
 o2 
 
196 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 searching 1 with their earnest steadfast gaze, into the things . 
 which are not, but are soon to be ; looking- into the depths of 
 that future, no longer distant, but seemingly close at hand. 
 Like the pilgrim who, after long wanderings, arrives at last 
 without the walls of the promised city, and is anxious only for 
 the morning light which shall admit him within its gates, so 
 she, standing at Heaven's portal, seems only to await the dawn 
 which shall usher her in. 
 
 The widow Hope moves about her little domain with the 
 same measured, dragging step as ever, presides at her narrow 
 counter, and displays her humble wares with the same me 
 chanical, half-vacant air, and betrays in her demeanour a rigid, 
 unaltered apathy of grief and disappointment. Now and 
 then, however, her dull eye is fixed upon her child with 
 a deep, searching glance of maternal anxiety and dread, 
 and as she turns away and engages in some household task, 
 a deep drawn sigh, or half-uttered groan, gives evidence 
 that the poor heart's capacity for suffering is not exhausted 
 yet. 
 
 Nor is the remembrance of past happiness effaced beyond 
 recall. The softness of the summer air, the sight of Rosy's 
 lilac branch, the well-known perfume of its flowers, all serve 
 to awaken within her the recollection of days gone by. She 
 lifts, the broken-handled mug which contains the fragrant 
 blossoms, and, as she inhales their familiar breath, a vision 
 rises before her of her childhood's home, the green and 
 sloping meadow which stretched before the door, the old stone 
 step, worn smooth by childish feet, the lilac bushes which 
 graced it on either side, and the robins which yearly built 
 their nests and sang there. She hears her brothers and sisters 
 at their play, her mother's step within the house, her father's 
 voice outside, and the voice of Rosy's father whispering in her 
 ear. It might be sad to muse on joys for ever flown, but, if 
 so, it was a pleasing sadness, for again and again she bends 
 her careworn head over the rustic nosegay, reads in it a 
 record of her girlhood, and turns away to muse upon the 
 page. 
 
 ' O Rose !' exclaimed she, as her thoughts, after straying 
 awhile amid the past, led her back to the stern reality of the 
 present, ' O Rose ! how I wish you could go up to the old 
 farm, if it were only for a week ; your uncle Jonas would be 
 glad to have you come, I know, and the very sight of the 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 197 
 
 place would do you good !' And as the poor mother reflected 
 on the impossibility of carrying this wish into effect, she drew 
 the deepest sigh that had escaped her yet. 
 
 Rose sighed, too a soft, low, scarcely audible sigh. If 
 the poor child had a selfish wish on earth, it was to visit the 
 old farm. 
 
 The same bright morning which bore witness to the widow's 
 heart-sick despondency, and the hopelessness of Rose's earthly 
 longings, found the fashionable world of New York elated and 
 eager in the prospect of a festive occasion, which promised. to 
 be as brilliant and successful as it was exciting and novel. It 
 was the day of Fanny Broadhead's marriage with the Colonel, 
 and after the nuptial ceremony at Grace church, the bridal 
 party were to proceed to the bridegroom's country residence, a 
 few miles up the Hudson, where a grand reception of guests 
 was to be held in the open air ; the beautiful grounds belong 
 ing to the estate having been decorated and prepared in a 
 style rarely attempted in our fickle and un propitious climate. 
 Everything, therefore, depended on the weather ; and if sun 
 shine and gentle breezes could have been propitiated or bribed, 
 a more perfect day could not have cheered the hearts of the 
 numerous aspirants after pleasure. Hair-dressers and ladies'- 
 maids were called into requisition at day-break; spring- 
 bonnets, whose exquisite array of buds and flowers had been 
 carefully secreted until now, bloomed out of their various 
 band-boxes ; the flounces of rich silks rustled and rattled as 
 if asserting their rival merits ; and white-gloved coachmen, 
 mounted on the boxes of freshly-varnished carriages, surveyed 
 their own stately equipages with pride, and bestowed dis 
 paraging glances on those of their masters' neighbours. 
 
 Arid now, one after another, these showy equipages, decked 
 like their occupants in all the panoply of pride, rolled in 
 various directions from street to street, and finally swept up 
 the wide avenue leading from the city, bearing with them the 
 beauty, the wealth, and the fashion of the metropolis. 
 
 4 Mabel, what in the world can have become of Donald ?' 
 exclaimed Mrs. Leroy, in an agony of impatience ; a state of 
 mind which was not improved by a sudden rent in her delicate 
 glove, the consequence of an angry twitch on the part of the 
 irritated lady. 
 
 ' I cannot imagine/ replied Mabel, outwardly more calm 
 than her sister, but betraying scarcely less annoyance, as she 
 
198 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 glanced at a clock on the mantel-piece, and then looked 
 anxiously down the street. 
 
 ' We shall be too late/ said Louise, in a reproachful tone ; 
 ' everybody has driven by. I wish I had gone by myself. 
 Donald is always behind the time.' 
 
 Mabel made no reply, but continued gazing from the 
 window, not a little chafed at the selfishness of her sister's 
 complaints. 
 
 This unforeseen delay and disappointment were the result of 
 a discovery made by Mabel's coachman, as she alighted at the 
 hotel where she had, according to agreement, called for Mrs. 
 Leroy. One of the wheels of the new barouche, a recent birth 
 day gift from her father, was imperfectly adjusted, and Donald 
 declared it impossible to take the anticipated drive until the 
 difficulty was remedied. He was suffered to depart, therefore, 
 for this purpose, upon the assurance that he should be absent 
 half an hour only, at the most. 
 
 The time was long past, however, and still he did not 
 return. Mrs. Leroy's childish and fretful impatience in 
 creased every moment ; and Mabel, in addition to her own 
 share of vexation, found herself the victim of Louise's uncon 
 trollable ill temper and unsparing invective. She should not 
 have suffered Donald out of her sight for a moment on such an 
 important occasion, faithless creature that he was. Or, at 
 least, why did she not tell him to bring the close carriage 
 instead of the barouche ? he could have made the exchange in 
 half the time that he had kept them waiting it would have 
 been better to go in that stifled thing than not to go at all. It 
 was no more than fair that Mabel should abide by her own 
 poor management, but it was hard- yes, she must say it was 
 a little too hard that she also should be the sufferer by such 
 folly. And angrily calling to Lydia to bring her a fresh pair 
 of gloves, and harshly repulsing Murray, who accidentally 
 trod on one end of her lace mantilla, she threw herself into a 
 seat in a despairing attitude, and pouted and sulked for some 
 minutes like a spoiled child. 
 
 ' Hark !' exclaimed she at length. ( Is n't that Mr. Earle's 
 voice ? Yes, it certainly is ; he was to call here for young 
 Van Rosberg, and Van Rosberg is gone. He was invited to 
 act as groomsman, and went early with the bridal party.' And 
 the next moment her light figure disappeared through the door 
 which opened into the hall, and Mabel lost her final words, 
 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 199 
 
 which were to the effect that there would probably then be a 
 vacant seat in Mr. Earle's carriage. ' How fortunate if it 
 were so !' 
 
 A moment after, a waiter appeared at the drawing-room 
 door, to say that Mrs. Leroy had gone to Riverside with Mrs. 
 JEarle, and hoped Miss Vaughan would be in time to overtake 
 them on the road. 
 
 Characteristic as this manoeuvre was in Mrs. Leroy, Mabel's 
 feelings were deeply hurt at the selfishness and unsisterly 
 effrontery which it evinced. * I cannot go now, at any 
 rate,' thought she. ' Louise knew very well that I should 
 give it up altogether if she deserted me in this way.' And no 
 longer anxious for the arrival of the carriage, she deliberately 
 removed her bonnet and sat down to meditate on her disap 
 pointment. 
 
 Unconsciously to herself, she had looked forward to this fes 
 tivity with an interest never before awakened by any similar 
 occasion. Not because the bride and bridegroom were at the 
 height of fashion ; not because all the world would be present 
 to do them honour ; nor because it would be for her a new 
 opportunity to achieve conquests and triumphs : such motives 
 and reflections had given no glow to her anticipations, and 
 now added no sting to her disappointment. The simple 
 thought of her heart had been, i Dudley is the bridegroom's 
 nephew ; Dudley will be there. I shall read my triumph in 
 his presence, and achieve in his approving smile the only 
 conquest that I crave.' 
 
 Perhaps, too, though she knew it not, her secret soul looked 
 to him to exorcise with his eye, his voice, his smile, the spirits 
 of disquiet and self-questioning which had for the last few days 
 warred constantly with her peace ; perhaps she trusted to his 
 magnetic influence to hush the voice of warning, make a treaty 
 with her conscience, and reconcile her to herself. 
 
 How aggravating, then, the loss of this opportunity, the only 
 one she could possibly expect before starting on her journey, 
 it being Dudley's well-known purpose to accompany the bridal 
 party to Albany, where other festivities awaited them, and join 
 the excursionists on their arrival at that city, which was to be 
 the first point on their route. 
 
 Whatever hopes she might have based on this long-anti 
 cipated occasion, she now found them suddenly annihilated, and 
 herself oppressed with a painful sense of loneliness, injustice, 
 
200 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 and injury. She would have given vent to her feelings in a 
 burst of tears, but for the presence of her sister's children, 
 who, while they acted as a restraint upon her, evinced at the 
 same time a child-like sympathy in her disappointment, which 
 touched and soothed her sensitive nature. 
 
 * Has mother gone without you, auntie ?' exclaimed Alick ; 
 ' that's very shabby !' while Murray, climbing into a chair, 
 stretched his head out of the window and made, every instant, 
 eager but, as it proved, false reports of the arrival of the 
 carriage. 
 
 c Never mind, Murray, I shan't go now,' said Mabel, after 
 nearly an hour had elapsed ; * it is too late.' 
 
 Oh, here it is, really,' shouted Murray ; < I see Donald 
 driving like anything! Oh, what a splendid barouche!' and 
 Alick, convinced that this time his brother's announcement 
 was to be relied upon, ran to the window and confirmed the 
 joyful fact, by joining in Murray's panegyric upon the gay and 
 beautiful equipage. 
 
 ' Are n't you going after all ?' inquired he, in a disappointed 
 tone, observing that Mabel was standing behind him, gazing 
 moodily and vacantly into the street, and making no move 
 ment to resume her bonnet. 
 ' No, Alick.' 
 
 The boy hung down his head, as if a veto had been put upon 
 some favourite scheme of his own, but Murray, conceiving a 
 new idea, cried out, eagerly, * Then, auntie, take me to ride. 
 Oh, do, take me a little way in the new barouche/ 
 
 ' Very well,' said Mabel, indifferently ; * ask Lydia for 
 your hat get yours, too, Alick,' and pleased at the delight 
 exhibited by Murray, she tried to assume a gay tone, as she 
 said, ' We will go and have a good time by ourselves.' 
 
 Alick's face brightened, as Mabel seemed thus to promise 
 herself a compensation for being excluded from the wedding 
 festival, and by the time they gained the carriage, the boys, at 
 least, were both in high spirits. 
 
 Donald, comprehending at once the consequences of his long 
 delay, had a tedious story to relate in reference to its cause ; 
 but Mabel, scarcely hearing his explanation, and caring little 
 for the trivial details which had resulted, as she deemed, so 
 disastrously, accepted his apology in silence, and bade him 
 drive on, purposely choosing a direction opposite to that lead 
 ing to Riverside. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 201 
 
 They had proceeded but a little distance down Broadway, 
 however, when, seized with a new idea, she suddenly altered 
 her purpose, and requested the coachman to turn and drive 
 home. Alick looked at her inquiringly; Murray began to 
 whimper ; but her smile re-assured them. ' Only for a moment, 
 darling,' said she, in a soothing tone, to Murray ; * I shall not 
 get out of the carriage, I wish to speak to Cecilia. Ring the 
 bell, Donald,' said she, as they stopped before her father's 
 door ; and as the footman appeared and ran down the steps to 
 take her orders, she exclaimed, to the astonishment of her 
 hearers, ( Ask Cecilia to bring my warm Scotch shawl and a 
 pillow two pillows, Robert,' continued she, as he turned to 
 fulfil her directions. 
 
 The smiling Cecilia soon appeared with the articles, which 
 were deposited in the carriage. 
 
 ' Are we going to be away all night ?' asked Murray, in 
 some alarm, while Alick's face contained a volume of ques 
 tions. 
 
 But Mabel only smiled in reply. 
 
 ' Turn here,' said she at length, to Donald, as they reached 
 the entrance of a narrow street. 
 
 ' Oh ! I know, I know !' shouted the usually quiet Alick, 
 as he observed that they were taking the direction leading to 
 the widow Hope's, * you are going to take Rosy out to drive/ 
 
 Mabel nodded in assent. 
 
 Murray sprang up and down on the carriage seat, and 
 clapped his hands in an extasy of delight. 
 
 Alick scanned his aunt's face pensively, admiringly. Mabel 
 almost forgot her recent and bitter disappointment, in the 
 thought of the pleasure she was about to impart. 
 
 But who shall paint the rapture of surprise, excitement, and 
 delight, which reigned in the widow's home, when the pranc 
 ing horses were reined in before the door, when the object 
 of their coming was announced, and the thoughtful prepara 
 tions for the invalid's comfort placed the incredible fact beyond 
 a doubt. Tears streamed down the cheeks of the happy, 
 grateful child, and the undemonstrative mother so far forgot 
 her wonted reserve as to lay her hand on Mabel's shoulder 
 and exclaim, ' Bless your heart, she was just longing to have 
 a peep at the country ! Why, it will be like taking her to 
 paradise !' 
 
 A few moments more, and Rose, supported by pillows, and 
 
202 MA DEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 with Mabel's shawl across her lap, was rolling- down Broad 
 way, in the easy, luxurious carriage, her thin, pale face, and 
 slight, attenuated figure, forming 1 a striking contrast to the 
 rich beauty and graceful proportions of Mabel, who was lean 
 ing- forward, re-arranging the cushions at her feet, and gently 
 inquiring whether the motion of the carriage fatigued her. 
 Hose's eyes wandered up and down the street, taking- in at a 
 glance a thousand interesting objects, while Alick and Murray, 
 as they watched her from the opposite seat, directed her 
 attention now to one thing and now to another, betraying in 
 their animated faces how deeply they enjoyed and participated 
 in her pleasure. 
 
 But city sights and sounds were comparatively familiar to 
 Rosy, and although the drive was enlarging her knowledge 
 and experience, nothing as yet had served to arouse emotions 
 altogether unprecedented and novel. As they approached 
 the Battery, however, and through the arches of its lofty elms 
 she caught sight of the deep-blue waters of the bay, the white 
 sails glistening in the sun, and the green islands beyond, her 
 large eyes dilated, her little form seemed to expand and elevate 
 itself, her breast heaved, she clasped her thin transparent 
 hands, and uttered a long-drawn exclamation of wonder, 
 reverence, and awe. Mabel and the boys gazed in silent 
 satisfaction at the rapt and excited child, as, lost in the con 
 templation of this panorama of ocean, earth, and sky, she 
 manifested in her face and gestures an extasy of delight such 
 as words would have been powerless to express. 
 
 With parted lips and straining eyes she continued to gaze, 
 as if every other sense was absorbed in that of sight, and not 
 until some overshadowing buildings shut out the bewildering 
 prospect, did she relapse into her wonted composure. As the 
 carriage paused a moment at the ferry, while awaiting the 
 boat which should transport it to the opposite shore, the child 
 slowly turned her head, met Mabel's sympathetic glance, drew 
 a long breath, and, with a smile of holy joy, sought the hand 
 of her friend and pressed it with grateful fervour. Still she 
 spoke not a word, as if fearful to break the spell that was upon 
 her, but with patient though trembling expectation, waited 
 until the revelation of beauty and enchantment should again 
 burst upon her sight. 
 
 A moment more and they were launched upon the trans 
 parent waters of the bay, where, with nothing to interrupt the 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 203 
 
 vision or disturb the harmony of the scene, the eye might rove 
 at will in all directions, and sweep to the very verge of the 
 distant horizon. With her head bent forward, the light breeze 
 stirring the hair on her blue-veined temples, and her cheek 
 tinged with the faint flush which pleasure and excitement had 
 called up, the invalid girl seemed ushered into a new creation 
 and animated by a new Hfe. As if some earth-born mortal 
 had strayed beyond its native sphere, and stood with bound 
 ing pulse on the threshold of a higher existence, so this 
 suffering child, emerging from the darkness, seclusion, and 
 obscurity in which her Hfe had hitherto been shrouded, 
 seemed to rejoice, expand, and glow, as if in the presence of 
 Deity. 
 
 Nor were her emotions unshared by her companions. 
 Mabel's heart beat high with unselfish joy, as she beheld the 
 light which sparkled in Rose's eye, and the rapture which 
 shone in her beaming features ; while Alick forgot his wonted 
 interest in the shipping of the harbour, to follow her earnest 
 gaze as it peered now into the azure depths of sky, then 
 watched the motion of the rolling waves, and finally rested 
 with serene repose on the luxurious verdure of the shore. 
 Even Murray now and then threw himself on the carriage 
 floor at her feet, looked up, and reading her pleasure in her 
 face, exclaimed, ' Rosy likes it, don't you, Rosy ?' to which 
 Rose responded with a smile so expressive that the little 
 questioner comprehended its meaning and was satisfied. 
 
 Nor were these the only friends destined to sympathize in 
 her enjoyment this day. Scarcely had tiiey gained the streets 
 of New York's sister city, when a familiar rumble greeted 
 Rose's ear, and coming towards them from the opposite direc 
 tion, she saw the well-known cart-horses which she had that 
 morning hailed as they came through the archway. Never 
 had the brazen knobs of the harness glittered as now in the 
 afternoon sunlight, never had the cart seemed of so deep a 
 blue, never had the young teamster's face worn so astonished 
 an expression, so joyous and cheering a glow, as that with 
 which he now saw and recognized his little invalid neighbour. 
 With one glance of his quick eye, he took in the whole esta 
 blishment, the spirited horses, their showy accoutrements, the 
 beautiful carriage, its pleasure-bound occupants, and Rose 
 pre-eminent in their midst. It was too much for his equanimity. 
 As he passed, he laughed, cracked his long whip, took off his 
 
204 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 hat, swung it round his head three times, and then gracefully 
 kissed his hand to her in token of congratulation. 
 
 This gay and exultant salutation exerted a corresponding 
 effect upon the spirits of the little party. The boys became 
 quite excited in view of it ; and Rose, to whose satisfaction 
 this little incident had imparted additional zest, leaned out of 
 the carriage and waved her hand in triumphal glee. 
 
 ' He knows you ! he is looking back after you ! he is glad 
 you are taking a ride!' cried the voices of Alick and Murray, 
 while Mabel herself could not resist turning round for another 
 glimpse of the honest face, which evinced such an evident par 
 ticipation in Rose's joy. 
 
 Truly this was a great day for Rose the one gala day of 
 her life. Not only nature, but the heart of man, seemed to 
 rejoice and sympathize in the occasion. Even Donald, that 
 proud, handsome Donald, who presided on the box, manifested 
 a certain tenderness for her infirmities, drove gently over the 
 pavement, and avoided every rough spot in the road, as if to 
 spare her any unnecessary jolting or fatigue. 
 
 And now they gradually left the city behind them, and 
 struck out into the open country. Green fields and smiling 
 gardens met them at every turn ; sweeping elms overarched 
 the roads and refreshed them with their shade ; birds flitted 
 among the branches, and flowering shrubs rejoiced the senses 
 with their perfume. Here and there, at intervals, might be 
 seen the neat Dutch farm-houses, each of which seemed in 
 turn, to Rose, the counterpart of her mother's early home, 
 while, occasionally, as they gained some slight elevation, there 
 burst upon them in one comprehensive view the wide range of 
 rolling meadows, green orchards, and sunny slopes, which 
 mark the scenery of Long Island ; while in the distance the 
 eye might discern, at intervals, the blue waters of the sea. 
 
 At sight of the rural homesteads, the cattle peacefully graz 
 ing, or reposing in the shade, and innumerable other objects 
 with which frequent descriptions had rendered Rose partially 
 familiar, her enthusiastic and artless delight would find vent 
 in words ; and Mabel's heart was deeply touched as the child 
 recounted, in simple phrase, the oft-repeated tale of her mo 
 ther's happy life at the old farm, the revisiting of which 
 blessed spot had ever constituted the day-dream of her city- 
 bred children. 
 ' You must go there, Rose !' exclaimed Mabel, eagerly, as 
 
MABEL VAUGH AN. 205 
 
 she observed the child's intense and ill-concealed longing ; 
 ' you must go there with your mother one of these days, and 
 see the good old place.' 
 
 Rose only replied, however, by shaking her head with an air 
 of sad and pensive resignation, and Mabel forbore to urge the 
 point, for they had now gained the height of a hill up which 
 the horses had long been toiling, and were greeted by one of 
 those lovely and extensive views, the sight of which effectually 
 sealed Rose's lips, while a hush of holy awe crept over the 
 little face, the working of which, nevertheless, revealed unut 
 terable tilings. Who shall tell how much she discerned which 
 is shut from the eye of sense, how much she heard which is 
 whispered only to the ear of the spirit ? 
 
 The happiness of Alick and Murray was only secondary on 
 this occasion to that of Rose. Like her, they were privileged 
 beyond their wont, and evinced their satisfaction, the one in 
 the eagerness of his observations and questions, and the other 
 in the laughter, shouts, and unchecked glee of childhood. 
 Now and then, at some shady point in the road, or some plea 
 sant opening in the prospect, the horses were drawn up for a 
 few moments, and the boys were suffered to alight to challenge 
 each other to a run, or to pluck the wild flowers by the road 
 side, with which they playfully showered their indulgent aunt 
 and her happy little companion. 
 
 Occasionally Mabel's thoughts would wander to the gay 
 scene at Riverside ; a slight pang of envy would pierce her 
 heart as she mused upon the happy throng assembled there, 
 and she would anxiously ask herself, * Am I missed amid the 
 crowd ?' But a look at Rose's enraptured face, or the shouts 
 of the joyous boys, were sufficient to chase away every obtrud 
 ing regret, and satisfy her with the reflection, ' They surely 
 could not spare me here.' 
 
 But time is a tyrant, and though Mabel had left her watch 
 at home, the slowly-descending sun began to give notice of the 
 day's decline. In spite of innumerable pauses and delays, 
 they had more than half completed the circuit appointed for 
 their afternoon's excursion, and were already homeward bound. 
 Alick and Murray were somewhat weary with unusual ex 
 ercise, and a quiet, placid sense of enjoyment had crept over 
 the little party to the exclusion of conversation and merriment. 
 The road, following the undulations of the bay, now and then 
 swept close to the shore, on whose pebbly margin the light 
 
206 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 waves broke with a soft and pleasant murmur, and all nature 
 wore that air of repose which marks the close of a summer's 
 day. Reclining on her cushions, with her head gently resting 
 on Mabel's shoulder, Rose lay watching the light, airy clouds, 
 which, gradually forming into masses of greater volume and 
 richer colouring, hung suspended above the western horizon. 
 So soft and soothing was the scene, so still and motionless the 
 figure of the child, who was revolving in new wonder the 
 miracle of creation, that Mabel believed and hoped she had 
 fallen asleep, and forbore to disturb her by a word. As a 
 sudden turn in the road, however, brought them in full view 
 of the city, Rose raised her head, and, like one abruptly 
 awakened from a pleasant dream, gazed long and fixedly at the 
 huge assemblage of buildings, amid which her young life had 
 hitherto been imprisoned. 
 
 Mabel divined her thoughts. ' New York is but a poor 
 place compared with the country, is it, Rosy ?' asked she. 
 
 Rose smiled and shook her head. 
 
 * I have thought of a fine plan for you/ continued Mabel, 
 ' and one that I am sure you will like. You and your mother, 
 Rose, must go up to the old farm and stay until you get strong 
 and well. There you can see plenty of woods, and fields, and 
 wild flowers, and watch the sun set every night. It is not a 
 long journey,' added she, with animation, her interest in the 
 scheme increasing as she observed the ray of pleasure and 
 hope which had overspread Rose's face at the suggestion, ' it 
 will only take one day. I will see that it is no expense to 
 you, and Jack will stay at home and take care of the house 
 and shop. We will talk it over with your mother this very 
 evening.' 
 
 The glow of delight which had been called up in Rose's 
 countenance, as Mabel first named this welcome proposal, gave 
 place to an expression of pain and anxiety as she pronounced 
 the concluding portion of the plan. Tears started into her 
 eyes, and she made haste to lay her hand on Mabel's arm, and 
 check the glowing anticipations she was indulging of her little 
 friend's happiness and possible restoration to health, in the 
 broken words, * Dear Miss Mabel ! you are very good, but 
 don't mention it to mother, please don't ; I can't go, 
 indeed I can't !' 
 
 ' But why not, Rose? you feel strong enough for the 
 journey? you will go if your mother consents?' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 207 
 
 4 Yes, no, please don't ask her, indeed I had far rather 
 stay in New York.' 
 
 Mabel looked puzzled and disappointed ; she could not 
 understand the child's eagerness to deny herself so great a 
 pleasure. 
 
 1 Miss Mabel/ added Rose, after a little hesitation, seeing 
 that Mabel still awaited an explanation, ' you wouldn't think 
 anybody needed me here, a poor sick girl that has been a care 
 and a trouble all my life, but I could not be happy to go away 
 and leave my dear Jack. Miss Mabel, he is a rough boy, 
 perhaps, but lie is never rough to me. Lyddy says he has 
 learned wicked words, but he uses good words to me ; they 
 tell me he loves bad company, but I know that he loves his 
 little Rose. He has sat up all night to bathe my aching head, 
 he has carried me in his arms all day. He would miss me 
 from my little room ; the bad boys would whistle round the 
 corner, and there would be no little voice to say, " Oh, Jack ! 
 stay with Rosy !" ' 
 
 Innocent, artless Rose ! Little did she think that every 
 word of her simple apology pierced like an arrow to the heart 
 of Mabel ; little did she comprehend the sudden sting of con 
 science which caused the quick blush to flood the face, the 
 eyes to droop, and the hand to be nervously withdrawn from 
 her fond and affectionate grasp. She thought she had offended 
 her friend, and continued, in urgent tones, ' Indeed indeed, 
 I am very thankful, and you are too good ; I do not deserve 
 it; but you are not vexed with me?' And laying her hand 
 on Mabel's arm, and fixing her large eyes full and searchingly 
 upon her, she added, in a touching, pleading tone, ' O, dear 
 Miss Mabel, have you a brother, arid do you love him as I 
 love Jack ?' 
 
 The look, the question, seemed empowered with authority 
 to probe Mabel's very heart. Shrinking from their scrutiny, 
 she sought to evade the one and respond to the other by 
 hiding her face in the folds of Rosy's shawl, as she drew her 
 to her in a close embrace ; and Rose believed herself under 
 stood, and was satisfied. 
 
 And now they have bid farewell to the blue waters of the 
 bay, the verdant islands, the sky still glowing with the linger 
 ing rays of crimson light, and once more are dashing through 
 the city thoroughfares, crowded with vehicles and ringing 
 with bewildering sounds. Many an eye follows them with 
 
208 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 loving and grateful interest, as they sweep down the narrow 
 street, where, at her humble door, the widow Hope watches 
 for the return of her child. All the neighbourhood has missed 
 her, has learned her whereabouts, and is sympathizing in her 
 joy. The mother greets her with an eager smile ; the old 
 woman over the way hobbles to the door, doubting her very 
 eyes, and adjusting her spectacles, to be sure that she sees 
 aright ; the little deaf and dumb boy stands braced against 
 the side of the house, transfixed in mute astonishment; and, as 
 the restive horses, panting for their stable, require the restrain 
 ing hand of Donald, the brisk young teamster makes his 
 appearance from beneath the archway, hastens to the carriage, 
 lifts Rose gently in his arms, bears her into the house, and 
 places her in her arm-chair. She looks up, smiles at Mabel 
 and the boys, receives answering smiles in return, and the 
 carriage whirls rapidly away. 
 
 Many a noble steed has that day returned to the city heated, 
 dusty, and jaded ; but how many of their gay and fashionable 
 owners have been engaged in a like labour of love ? Certain 
 it is that, in after years, and amid other scenes, memory could 
 recall no festive occasion in the annals of the New York belle 
 so blessed in its simple pleasures, so hallowed in its lasting 
 results, as that which constituted to little Rose Hope the one 
 bright spot on this side heaven. 
 
( 209 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 She hath put on 
 
 Courage, and faith, and generous constancy, 
 Ev'n as a breastplate. 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 4 WELL, I believe I have told you all that is of any conse 
 quence, all that is worth telling. It was a fine affair ! I would 
 not but have been there for the world.' Thus exclaimed the 
 unabashed Louise, who, adopting her usual tactics, and ignor 
 ing any unsisterly conduct on her own part, had, with many 
 affected airs and a more than ordinary toss of the head, detailed 
 for Mabel's benefit such particulars of the wedding reception 
 as seemed to her most noteworthy. As these consisted chiefly 
 of the compliments paid to herself on the occasion, the atten 
 tion she had received from various quarters, the admiration 
 and envy her new mantilla had excited, and the striking contrast 
 between the awkward arrangement of Fanny Broadhead's veil 
 and the taste displayed on the event of her own bridal, it may 
 well be supposed that Mabel's interest in the subject was soon 
 exhausted, especially as Louise declared that she had a thousand 
 messages of regret from her sister's numerous friends, but 
 could not remember a word of them, or say exactly who in 
 quired for her, and who did not. c But, mercy ! I did not 
 come here to talk about the wedding,' exclaimed Louise. 
 ' Tired as I am, and with so much to think about, only conceive 
 of my being plagued to death as usual by that provoking Lydia ! 
 To think of her declaring now, at this last minute, that she had 
 never had any idea of staying in my service after last month 
 was out, and that she supposed 1 had got some one else to go 
 with me on the journey !' 
 
 ' Hadn't she given you any notice ?' asked Mabel, in sur 
 prise. 
 
 * Oh, yes j she says she has told me several times that she 
 
210 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 could not go so far away, and I dare say she has, but I never 
 believed her ; servants are always threatening 1 in that sort of 
 way, just to show their consequence. She says her sister is 
 failing- very fast ; her mother needs her, and so on/ 
 
 ' It is very true/ replied Mabel gravely. ' Rose cannot live 
 long ; I do not wonder Lydia does not like to leave her.' 
 
 4 Rose !' exclaimed Louise, sneeringly. ' You speak her 
 name with as much familiarity as if she were an intimate ac 
 quaintance ! I heard about you taking her out to drive yes 
 terday ; my children are full of it. I can't conceive of your 
 doing anything so ridiculous.' 
 
 Mabel made no reply ; she had learned by experience that 
 it was vain to argue with Louise. 
 
 4 That child,' added the latter, in a provoked tone, as if 
 Rose had intentionally done her a serious injury, ' has been 
 dying ever since Lydia lived with me ; if she is really going 
 to die now, Lydia can't keep her alive ; and what difference 
 does it make whether she's here, or in some other part of the 
 country ?' 
 
 Mabel looked deeply shocked at her sister's heartlessness, and 
 answered, ' A very great difference I should think, Louise.' 
 
 The temper of Mrs. Leroy, however, becoming more excited, 
 as she saw how little her sister sympathized in her view of the 
 matter now burst forth with redoubled vehemency ; she did 
 not believe in the child's illness ; it was all counterfeited ; 
 Lydia was the most ungrateful of mortals, and Mabel was silly 
 enough to be the dupe of this miserable family's impositions. 
 She could not conceive of her being so indifferent to the wel 
 fare of the boys of whom she professed to be so fond ; poor 
 children, they were accustomed to Lydia ; how would they like 
 being away from home, and travelling too, under the care of 
 a perfect stranger ? 
 
 This appeal was irresistible to Mabel, and, with prompt 
 generosity, she exclaimed, without a moment's hesitation, 'Take 
 Cecilia, Louise. I can spare her. I can do without any maid ; 
 she is a good girl, and is used to the boys.' 
 
 Mrs. Leroy walked to the window, to hide her satisfaction 
 at this proposition. It was the point at which all her diplo 
 macy had been directed, for, however Cecilia might supply 
 Lydia's place to the children, her skill as lady's-maid and hair 
 dresser was such that her services had long been coveted by 
 the mother. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 211 
 
 Unwilling, however, to acknowledge her obligation to her 
 sister, she continued to make an excessive show of annoy 
 ance ; declared Cecilia to be wanting in every quality requisite 
 in one who was to fill Lydia's place, and finally ended by say 
 ing, in a condescending tone, that if the latter persisted in 
 leaving, and she could not do better, which it was not very 
 probable she could at this late hour, she would try and be 
 satisfied with Cecilia, and should be glad at all events to have 
 her come to the hotel for a while, and assist in packing her 
 trunks. 
 
 The consequence was, that in less than an hour after Mrs. 
 Leroy reached home, a messenger was despatched for Cecilia, 
 requesting that she should come to the hotel without delay, and 
 Mabel thus unceremoniously deprived of her skilful attendant, 
 was left to complete those personal preparations for travelling 
 which had unexpectedly devolved upon her. 
 
 It was night, and she was alone in her quiet room. Her 
 mind was troubled ; and inwardly congratulating herself on 
 the absence of her maid, whose presence would have been a 
 restraint, she was, with alternate listlessness and feverish energy, 
 engaged in packing for the morrow's journey. Various 
 articles of her wardrobe were spread out upon the bed. She 
 folded a rich dress with care, as .if to place it in the trunk, 
 then, forgetful of her purpose, laid it away on the closet shelf. 
 Now she hastily opened and shut her drawers and caskets, them 
 withdrew to the window, and leaning her head on her hand 
 looked out into the moonlight. The tempter, though absent 
 from her side, was present to her thoughts ; but ever as her 
 heart dwelt fondly on his last persuasive words, there came 
 between her and his treacherous image, the form of her better 
 angel, the sick and saintly Rose, whose mild, searching eyes 
 seemed to follow her with a reproachful glance, whose little 
 hand seemed lifted in timid yet fervent appeal, and whose low, 
 childlike voice was continually whispering in her ear the simple 
 words, ' Miss Mabel, have you a brother, and do you love him 
 as I love Jack ? 
 
 Her heart told her that she had not loved him thus, and she 
 felt humbled at the contrast between her own shrinking, doubt 
 ful spirit, and the child's unhesitating generosity. She pressed 
 her throbbing head against the cool glass, and while she medi 
 tated on the pleasures of the morrow, strove to shut out every 
 thought that preyed upon her peace. But conscience was 
 
212 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 aroused and would not be thus easily silenced, and the neces 
 sary preparation for the journey was forgotten, while her 
 heart struggled with contending emotions. 
 
 Just then quick steps were heard in the street below, and, 
 as they drew nearer, voices also were distinguishable. Mabel 
 held her breath to listen, for she recognized the familiar tones 
 of Harry, who paused at the street door, and seemed to be 
 bidding adieu to one of his companions. 
 
 ' Family all going out of town ! House going to be shut 
 up. Ah !' exclaimed the voice of a strange individual, in reply 
 to a remark from Harry, the words of which had escaped her 
 ear. * And you, Vaughan, what is to become of you ? Where 
 are you bound for the summer ? Come, I'll play your cicerone/ 
 continued the person, in a coarse and yet insinuating tone, 
 4 I'll back you up for any place you'll name.' 
 
 t You may well say that,' replied Harry, in a tone of bitter 
 irony ; ' I'm going to the devil, as you very well know, but 
 I'll warrant you'll keep me company ;' and the unhappy 
 youth accompanied this desperate acknowledgment with a hol 
 low and joyless laugh, which was loudly and boisterously 
 echoed by his companion, who, as Harry abruptly entered the 
 house, proceeded down the street. 
 
 Bitter as were Harry's words of despairing self-abandon 
 ment, his mocking laugh was more bitter still. It thrilled 
 through every fibre of Mabel's frame. It seemed to ring out 
 the knell of hope, arid fix a seal to his impending doom. And 
 yet it was so indescribably sad, so heart-rending in its mourn 
 ful significance, it told such a story of vain struggles, useless 
 regrets, and final desperation. It was like the cry of a fallen 
 spirit, which sneeringly derides itself. 
 
 All the tender compassion of Mabel's nature was aroused 
 ' My poor brother ! my poor Harry !' was her mental excla 
 mation, 'is there no good angel to save him yet?' 
 
 She listened to his heavy and measured steps, as, after part 
 ing with his evil associate, he came slowly up the staircase ; 
 he paused a moment at her door ; she thought lie meant to 
 enter, and bid her farewell, for he knew she was to depart 
 early on the morrow ; but no he passed on and ascended 
 the next flight to his own chamber, which he entered, and 
 closed the door. 
 
 ' I cannot leave him thus,' thought Mabel, as she pictured 
 him to herself, alone, ruined, uncared for ; and, yielding to a 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 213 
 
 I 
 
 sudden and tender impulse, she resolved to seek him, speak an 
 affectionate word, and assure him of her love. 
 
 She feared to knock at his door, lest she should be repulsed, 
 or dismissed with a hasty good-bye ; so, gently opening it, she 
 presented herself unexpectedly before him. He was pacing 
 restlessly up and down the room, seemed almost angry at 
 being intruded upon, as if he suspected that she had come to 
 pry into his secret thoughts, and turning upon her with an 
 abrupt, imperative air, appeared to demand the object of her 
 errand. 
 
 1 Harry,' said she, her lip trembling with the effort to 
 speak in a natural tone of voice, ' I could not bear to go away 
 without bidding you good-bye ;' she passed her arm, coax- 
 ingly through his as she spoke, and accompanied him for a 
 few steps in his walk up and down the room. 
 
 With his face now obstinately turned from her, he answered 
 only in the brief words, ' Are you going early in the morn 
 ing?' 
 
 ' Yes, and I was afraid you would not be up in time to see 
 me off; but you will write to me, won't you, Harry?' 
 
 * I shan't know where you are,' he replied curtly. 
 
 * I will write and tell you where to direct.' 
 Still he did not promise. 
 
 4 1 shall have no one else to write to me ; father will be 
 away, and I have always depended on you, Harry,' added she, 
 in a tone calculated to impress him with the value she should 
 place upon his letters. 
 
 6 Poh !' exclaimed he, with a slight nervous jerk, which 
 was sufficient to induce her to let go his arm, ' I shall have 
 nothing worth telling, you'll have plenty of better enter 
 tainment.' 
 
 1 Where shall you be ?' she asked timidly. 
 
 4 1 ? I dont know, I'm sure. I have not made up my 
 mind.' 
 
 She found it hard to press the subject further, he was so 
 short in his answers. She walked to the window and looked 
 out, then strayed to the bureau and occupied herself in examin 
 ing the trinkets which lay upon it, hoping Harry would broach 
 some topic of mutual interest, but he remained perseveringly 
 silent. She would gladly have drawn near, thrown her arms 
 round his neck, and entreated his confidence, his renewed 
 affection at parting, but he gave her no encouragement. ' It 
 
214 MABEL V AUGEAN. 
 
 is late, I suppose,' said she at length, seeing that he appeared 
 surprised, if not impatient, at her lingering. ' So good-bye, 
 Harry/ and approaching him, she laid her'hand on his shoul 
 der. 
 
 He started as if her touch pained him. She looked in his 
 face earnestly, imploringly ; his features twitched, and there 
 was a nervous embarrassment in his manner as, studiously 
 avoiding her eye, he stooped down, returned her parting kiss, 
 and responded to her good-bye. 
 
 With hurried and tremulous step Mabel hastened back to 
 her room, threw herself on a low seat opposite the empty 
 trunk, and burst into tears. She had sought her brother with 
 a view to appeasing her overcharged feelings, and defraying a 
 debt to her conscience, but neither purpose had been effected 
 by the brief and unsatisfactory interview. 
 
 She had found him in a desperate mood, she had read in 
 his face the mental torture under which he writhed, she 
 had failed to break down the barrier between her own heart 
 and his, and with little more than a mechanical farewell she 
 had turned her back upon his misery. 
 
 Should she leave him thus, abandoned by his sister as well 
 as by his better self? 
 
 The deep and almost hysterical sobs which escaped her, 
 proved that the struggle of contending feelings had now 
 reached its height, and for some minutes she wept as children 
 weep, without any effort at self-control. As this storm of 
 grief subsided, and she sat for a while maintaining an inward 
 war, but apparently gazing into vacancy, she stretched forth 
 her hand with an absent air, and raised the inner lid of her 
 trunk. As she did so, she caught sight of a little package 
 lying in a. corner, directed to herself, in the familiar hand 
 writing of Mrs. Herbert. It had been placed there when 
 she left school, and, by Cecilia's carelessness, had remained 
 undiscovered until now. Almost believing it to be a message 
 of counsel and advice from that friend who had always come 
 to her aid in moments when she was at a loss for guidance, 
 she hastily tore off the wrapper, and found it to contain a 
 little pocket Bible. Touched by this proof of affection, and 
 by the nature of the gift, she opened the book, with reverence, 
 at the first epistle of St. John, where a slip of paper was 
 inserted, and her eye at once fell on the words, carefully 
 marked, as if to attract her attention : ' My little children, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 215 
 
 let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and 
 in truth.' 
 
 Awed by the solemn charge, which she realized to be armed 
 with divine authority, Mabel bowed her head upon the lid 
 of her trunk, and, with the volume clasped in her hands, sunk 
 upon her knees. 
 
 Now rose before her that long forgotten scene in her child 
 hood, when first Mrs. Herbert had striven to impress upon 
 her this great lesson. How vividly still did memory recall 
 that last evening of her school life, when her faithful teacher 
 had bid her beware of that insidious foe, whose existence in 
 her heart she had so proudly denied, that demon of self-love, 
 which undermines the holiest affections and enslaves the cor 
 rupted soul. 
 
 She could no longer deceive herself; with all her enlarged 
 opportunities, with all her self-confidence and pride, with all 
 her boasted love for Harry, she felt that she had been weighed 
 in the balance and found wanting, that she had been out 
 done in generosity by a feeble, invalid child, that she had 
 not loved like Rosy. 
 
 Contrite, humbled, eager to be enlightened in the path of 
 duty, she lifted her bowed head and again opened the inspired 
 book ; but this time her eyes fell on the words, ' For if our 
 hearts condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth 
 all things.' 
 
 As if suddenly, and for the first time in her life, made con 
 scious of the invisible presence of Him to whom all hearts 
 are open, all desires known, she now ceased to wrestle with 
 herself, and looking up for the help she so earnestly craved, 
 she poured out her soul in prayer. The form, the attitude, 
 the words of devotion, if not habitual, were at least not new 
 to one who had been a member of a religious household, and 
 shared the benefits of religious instruction. But never be 
 fore had she come, in all the submission of a child, to lay 
 before God's throne the sincere offering of a humble, contrite 
 heart; never before had she approached in that spirit of 
 self-consecration which cries out, ' Thy will, not mine, be 
 done.' 
 
 And with prayer came strength. She rose from her knees 
 armed with a Christian resolution, and fortified with a Chris 
 tian hope ; the resolution to meet evil face to face ; the hope 
 to triumph at length over sin. It was not her own sin only 
 
216 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 that she was thus to combat ; for in that hour of high com 
 muning' she had dedicated herself to a sacred cause, and 
 charged herself with a solemn trust. Not in word and tongue 
 only, but in deed and in truth, would she prove a sister's 
 devotion, and labour for a brother's welfare. With her 
 watchword, duty, and her banner, love, she would place her 
 self boldly at Harry's side, and, with the blessing of God, 
 prove herself the good angel who would save him yet. 
 
 It was with no blind zeal, no inconsiderate impulse, that 
 she had thus set herself to the fulfilment of her heaven- 
 appointed mission. She had thoroughly measured and fully 
 understood the sacrifice it would involve. She knew that, in 
 consecrating herself to duty and to God, she must dethrone 
 her young heart's earthly idol ; that the selfish love must yield 
 to the purely disinterested, the human to the divine. Had it 
 been otherwise, she would not so long have been deaf to the 
 call which summoned her to her Master's service. 
 
 Beguiled by a persuasive intellect, enthralled by the power 
 of genius, and a willing captive in the chains which flattery 
 so well knows how to forge, she had wandered awhile through 
 the flowery fields of pleasure, had reached the pinnacle of her 
 ambition, had sunned herself in dreams of future bliss; but 
 there came a time when the simple words of an infant tongue 
 had aroused the voice of a sleeping conscience, arid, led by the 
 hand of a little child, she had at length been brought back to 
 the feet of that faithful monitor of her youth, by the memory 
 of whose warning counsels and by the aid of whose blessed 
 gift she would henceforth pursue in patience the path which 
 leadeth unto life ; ambitious only to accomplish the work 
 which was given her to do, and cheered by the hopes which 
 are full of immortality. 
 
 In this hour of exaltation, this season of the spirit's vic 
 tory, the task did not seem hard. Already was the self- 
 imposed duty lightened by that sweetener of life's heaviest 
 toils which relieves the labourer of half his burthen ; for, in 
 the moment when, denying self, she assumed with holy forti 
 tude the sacred guardianship of her brother, back to her heart, 
 in a full, strong tide, came all the depth and tenderness of that 
 sisterly love which had only been subdued and crushed by the 
 force of a rival passion. Thus, not only would she devote her 
 self to Harry's cause because duty pointed in that direction, 
 but because, in view of every touching memory of their child- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN, 217 
 
 hood, every sweet record of their maturer years, her heart 
 forbade her to desert him. 
 
 As she now moved through the room, preparing to put her 
 purpose into execution, her countenance was marked by the 
 serene composure of one animated by a high resolve and in 
 spired by a holy mission. Her manner was no longer indica 
 tive of hesitation or uncertainty ; and the hands which an hour 
 ago had trembled with nervous indecision, performed what 
 they had to do quickly and well. 
 
 She wrote a hasty note to Louise, explaining her change of 
 plan, but giving no other reason for abandoning the journey 
 than the simple truth that, at the last moment, she had be 
 come convinced that her presence was needed at home. She 
 begged her sister to write to her frequently, sent her love to 
 the boys, hoped Cecilia would faithfully supply Lydia's place, 
 and that Louise would in the enjoyment of other society have 
 little occasion to regret her absence ; which latter hope, we 
 will remark in passing, she might reasonably indulge, since 
 Mrs. Leroy was, when in general society, extremely indif 
 ferent to family ties. 
 
 It was nearly midnight when Cecilia returned from the 
 hotel, weary, and with her own preparations for the journey 
 still incomplete. She was amazed at the sight of Mabel's 
 trunk, which was still empty, while every article of her 
 scattered wardrobe was restored to its customary place. 
 
 4 1 am not going, Cecilia/ said Mabel, calmly, in answer to 
 her look of astonishment. ' Take this note to my sister in the 
 morning, when you meet her at the boat. Robert will see to 
 your luggage ; remember, and take good care of the boys/ 
 And she dismissed her with a psirting charge to retire as soon 
 as possible, as she would be obliged to rise early. 
 
 Not until she had thus confirmed by act the heroic resolu 
 tion of her mind, did she realize the exhaustion consequent 
 upon agitation and excitement ; but now, with a welcome 
 sense of relief from tormenting doubts, and a humble reliance 
 upon the power to which she had looked for strength, she 
 gladly sought the rest which tired nature craves, and fell into 
 a sweet and dreamless sleep, such as for many a week had 
 deserted her pillow. 
 
( 218 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 In her deep, melancholy eye, 
 Life's brilliant hues no longer lie ; 
 And love itself, its sweetest light, 
 Has left behind a starless night. 
 A night? Ah, no I 'T is early dawn 
 The long, dark, hopeless hours are gone ; 
 And Faith, the day-spring from on high, 
 Is beaming through her heavenward eye. 
 
 MRS. S. C. E. MAYO. 
 
 IF the exaltation of soul under which a high resolve is usually 
 formed could be maintained during the period required for its 
 fulfilment, the battle would be fought and the victory achieved 
 almost without an effort. But who has not experienced the 
 reaction, weakness, and self-distrust which are the natural 
 consequence of an unwonted strain upon the physical and 
 mental powers ? Then, indeed, do we learn how little we can 
 depend upon our own feeble efforts, unless sustained and 
 strengthened by help and guidance from on high. 
 
 So it was with Mabel, when she awoke the morning after 
 her supposed self-conquest, oppressed with a painful sense of 
 lassitude and despondency, which made it an effort to rise and 
 dress, and a still greater effort to look back upon the past with 
 composure, and forward into the future with cheerfulness. 
 She fully realized the unexpected truth, that not by one 
 spasmodic effort can the soul achieve the sublime heights of 
 self-denying virtue, but only by continual and persevering 
 struggles, and a patient resting upon Him whose promise is 
 steadfast, * I will never leave you nor forsake you.' 
 
 Fortunately, her little Bible was close at hand, with its 
 blessed words of encouragement and peace ; and after resort 
 ing to its pages for counsel, and commending herself to 
 Heaven in prayer, she felt in some degree prepared to meet 
 the events of the day. In the hall leading to the dining-room 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 219 
 
 she met Robert, who reported the departure of the pleasure- 
 party, all, according- to his account, in high spirits except 
 Alick and Murray, both of whom were crying with disap 
 pointment at her absence. 
 
 Mabel felt a rising in the throat, and a painful sinking of 
 the spirits, as she thought of the dear children's grief and the 
 still greater void which would be felt in the company by one 
 who would join them at noon, would look for her amid the 
 party, and, astonished at her absence, perhaps misconstruing 
 its cause, would vainly seek from Louise a satisfactory solution 
 of the mystery. Her drooping courage revived, however, at 
 the unmistakable satisfaction which succeeded her father's 
 first glance of surprise, as she entered the dining-room and 
 approached the table where he was seated at breakfast. He 
 had seen Robert return with the carriage, and supposed her 
 already on her way to Albany ; but listened with evident 
 pleasure to her assurance that she had resolved, since she 
 parted from him the previous day, to abandon the scheme 
 altogether. 
 
 Attributing this change in her plans to some trifling disa 
 greement with Louise, or dissatisfaction with the proposed 
 arrangements, he forbore questioning her as to the cause of 
 her apparently fickle conduct, but quite contented with the 
 result, expressed himself with more than his ordinary decision 
 in the words, ' I am glad of it, my dear, very glad. I have 
 not approved, from the first, of your travelling with so large a 
 party. Now, I trust, there is nothing to interfere with your 
 visit to your aunt Margaret.' So much was he gratified, in 
 deed, that as he rose to leave the room, having finished his 
 early breakfast, he laid his hand upon her head in an affection 
 ate and paternal manner, which, considering his usual unde 
 monstrative and reserved character, might almost be termed a 
 caress, and at least signified a marked degree of approval. 
 
 Light as was the touch, it drew tears from Mabel's eyes, 
 and left its impress on her heart for many a long day after 
 wards. It seemed to reward her sacrifice with a father's 
 blessing. 
 
 Harry's views and feelings, as he entered a moment after, 
 were not so easy to determine. 
 
 ' You see I have not gone,' said Mabel, with an attempt at 
 playfulness, as he made his appearance in the doorway and 
 stopped short at sight of her. 
 
220 MABEL VAUGHAN". 
 
 * So I perceive,' said he, advancing into the room and seat 
 ing himself at the table with a languid air. 
 
 ' We women have such a blessed privilege of changing our 
 minds, you know,' added she, in the same tone. 
 
 ' Yes, I should think so ; you seem to have veered about 
 with as much ease as a weather-cock. It is not many hours 
 ago that I saw you plumed and winged for flight.' 
 
 ' My plumes drooped, and my wings refused to soar, when 
 it came to the trial.' 
 
 ' Aren't you well?' asked he quickly, at the same time 
 looking her anxiously and inquiringly in the face. 
 
 ' Oh, yes, quite well ; but I settled that I would stay at 
 home, and make tea and coffee for my father and you. Taste 
 and see if that is sweet enough,' continued she, as she handed 
 him a cup of steaming Mocha which she had been preparing. 
 
 He received the cup with an unsteady hand, rattled the 
 spoon nervously, added several lumps of sugar in an absent 
 way, then ladled them out carefully into his saucer, helped 
 himself to a piece of steak, ate voraciously for a minute or 
 two, and, finally, laying down his knife and fork, pushed back 
 his chair, and seized the newspaper, which had fallen on the 
 floor beside him. 
 
 Mabel could not be sure whether he were suspicious or not 
 that her journey had been abandoned on his account ; but she 
 was pained at the evident annoyance which her presence and 
 attentions occasioned him. So manifest was his desire to 
 escape her observations, that she strayed to the window, 
 busied herself in feeding a canary whose cage was suspended 
 there, and when Harry suddenly and impatiently started up 
 and left the room, forbore to question or follow him. She 
 knew very well that the recovery of her influence over her 
 brother must be the work of time and patience, and that he 
 would not endure to be either watched or catechised. 
 
 So this day proved no exception to the ordinary rule, and, 
 as usual, he strolled from home soon after breakfast, without 
 giving her any hint of his destination, or the probable time of 
 his return. 
 
 It was hard to see him walk away so indifferent to her 
 newly-roused affection, her anxiety, her prayers in his behalf, 
 and to be left alone to reflect on the seeming uselessness of the 
 sacrifice she had made. Had this sacrifice involved some 
 active labour, some constant employment for head and hands, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 221 
 
 it would have been comparatively easy to one of Mabel's 
 energetic temperament. But passive endurance, patient 
 waiting, hoping against hope heroic virtues as they are 
 offer little stimulus to resolution, and require the severest 
 exercise of self-denying fortitude. 
 
 Thus it was not strange that her spirits flagged as she 
 wandered listlessly from room to room ; that her thoughts 
 strayed to the pleasure-bound company of whom she had 
 hoped to make one ; and that, as the remembrance of a still 
 dearer hope agitated her heart, she could not resist the 
 obtruding regret, or check the rising tear. 
 
 But Mabel by nature was neither weak nor desponding; 
 uncertainty and doubt had, it is true, in some degree para 
 lyzed her powers, and, while halting between two opinions, 
 her irresolute conduct had betrayed the indecision of her 
 mind. 
 
 The path of right made plain, however, and conscientiously 
 adopted, there was a firmness, stability, and self-respect in her 
 character which, with the aid of Christian principle, gave 
 promise that, cost her what it might, she would pursue it 
 faithfully to the end. ' I have made my choice,' thought she, 
 as, starting up from an indolent and meditative posture, she 
 seemed at the same time to shake off the morbid and dis 
 couraging fancies which were gradually settling down upon 
 her mind. ' If Dudley loves me truly, he can trust me ; if 
 not but I will not suppose that possible he knows how 
 much I depended on the journey ; he will believe that no 
 slight cause has detained me here ; he will return, and assure 
 himself of the truth. In the meantime, I will not waste my 
 energies in useless repining/ 
 
 So, resorting to the well-remembered remedy always recom 
 mended by Mrs. Herbert in cases of home-sickness and other 
 mental maladies, she at once sought employment, and com 
 menced, reluctantly, the task of answering numerous letters 
 from her school-mates. She made every effort to write in a 
 cheerful strain, and her young friends saw nothing in her com 
 munications to indicate the circumstances under which they 
 were written ; but as Mrs. Herbert, who was permitted to 
 peruse them, observed that her once glowing descriptions of 
 city life were wholly superseded by tender and touching remi 
 niscences of her school days, she inwardly suspected that the 
 former had already palled upon her taste, and that she yearned 
 
222 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 once more for the simple joys of her childhood and her country 
 home. 
 
 Mabel made more than one attempt to thank this long- tried 
 friend for her recently-discovered and precious gift, to express 
 some sense of the earnest gratitude she felt for all her love 
 and counsel, and rejoice her heart with the assurance that the 
 lessons so faithfully imparted to her in youth were destined to 
 be the guide of her womanhood; but each time she shrunk 
 from the difficulties involved in such an attempt, and at length 
 laid down her pen in despair of succeeding to her own satis 
 faction. She dared not boast of resolutions not yet confirmed 
 by practice ; she feared to betray the secret of her disquiet 
 and unhappiness ; nor could she compromise Harry by reply 
 ing truthfully to the many inquiries concerning him, which 
 Mrs. Herbert's affectionate interest in his welfare had sug 
 gested. So the difficult duty was for the present abandoned 
 altogether. 
 
 At two o'clock Mr. Vaughan came home to an early 
 dinner, as had been his custom since the weather became 
 warm. Harry did not make his appearance, however ; and 
 Mabel, as she sat opposite her father at table, was struck with 
 his extremely anxious and haggard countenance. He was 
 more than usually taciturn, only rousing himself from his 
 abstraction once during the meal, and then to remark, rather 
 abruptly, ( You are all alone, my dear it is very dull for 
 you ; I hope we shall break up here before many days/ 
 
 Mabel declared herself ready to go or remain, as he thought 
 best, and no more was said on the subject ; but after a hurried 
 repast, he rose to repair to his office. 
 
 The weather was tempting, there was no prospect of Harry's 
 return for some hours, and Mabel proposed to accompany her 
 father a part of the way. 
 
 He assented to the proposition in an absent manner, and 
 paced the hall impatiently until she appeared ready for the 
 walk. So silent and self-engrossed was he, that Mabel walked 
 beside him through several streets, without his addressing a 
 syllable to her, nor could she fail to observe with pain an in 
 creased stoop in his figure, and tremulousness in his gait. She 
 left him at the corner of the street leading to the widow Hope's 
 dwelling; and as she proceeded thither to inquire after Rose, 
 her sadness at these symptoms of old age and debility in her 
 recently strong and vigorous parent, was mingled with a fresh 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 223 
 
 glow of self-gratulation that she had not suffered herself to act 
 in direct opposition to his wishes. 
 
 Rosy was overjoyed at seeing- her, and Lydia, who stood 
 behind the counter waiting upon a customer, was so excited 
 with pleasure, that she could scarcely command sufficient arith 
 metic to make the simple calculations which her office involved. 
 None of the family had seen her since Rosy's never-to-be-for 
 gotten drive ; and of all the kindnesses she had rendered them, 
 none had ever called forth so warm an expression of gratitude. 
 
 1 She's been brighter and better ever since,' exclaimed the 
 mother, with tears in her eyes, ' and so happy !' 
 
 ' Miss Mabel,' cried the excited Lydia, ' it was splendid ; 
 how came you to think of it ? it has half-cured her ! and those 
 dear boys, they were as pleased as if they'd never had a drive 
 before, and all on Rosy's account, too, look at her, Miss 
 Mabel, see how she has brightened up.' 
 
 She did, indeed, seem changed ; there was an expression on 
 the little face such as Mabel had never seen there before : it 
 seemed to tell of some inward rapture, some foretaste of coming 
 glory. 
 
 ' Miss Mabel,' said Rose, in her little quiet voice, when her 
 mother had walked away, and Lydia had returned to the 
 counter, ' it isn't that I am any better, but it has given me 
 such beautiful thoughts all day, and such beautiful dreams all 
 night. I know I shan't be here long, but I am not afraid to 
 go. Oh, Miss Mabel, if God's earth is so glorious, what must 
 his Heaven be!' * 
 
 ' Earth is but a sad place, after all, Rosy,' said Mabel, with 
 a sigh. 
 
 The child's ear, tuned to that plaintive minor chord which 
 reveals the suffering of the heart, recognized as by intuition 
 the mood of Mabel's mind, and turning upon her a face full of 
 tender anxiety, she said, ' Do you call it sad ? are you a weary 
 pilgrim, too ? and is your path ever dark ? I thought it was 
 always as bright as sunshine.' 
 
 ' Oh, Rosy,' said Mabel, glancing up at the engraving from 
 which, as usual, Rose's figure was drawn, ' I cannot see my 
 way at all, there is such a thick cloud over head.' 
 
 She had not calculated upon the effect of this acknowledg- 
 
 * " Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, 
 when thou affordest bad men such music on earth?" Complete Angler. 
 
224 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 ment, which she would have shrunk from making to one less 
 simple-hearted and innocent than Rose. It seemed to esta 
 blish at once the only bond of sympathy ever wanting between 
 herself and the suffering child, who seized her hand, pressed it 
 to her thin lips, and exclaimed, fervently, ' God will show the 
 way, Miss Mabel : He will lighten your path, as He has light 
 ened mine.' 
 
 The child's solemn and prophetic assurance of heavenly 
 guidance, both awed and touched the sonl that yearned for 
 encouragement and strength. Mabel could not answer, except 
 by the tears which started to her eyes. Rose went on. 
 
 ' There used to be long days and nights, Miss Mabel, when 
 I lay on my little bed in great pain, worrying to think how 
 much trouble I gave, how poor we were, and, more than all, 
 about Jack, and what would become of him. I could not see 
 God always then. I could not understand how so many 
 sorrows could be sent in love. I tried to be patient. I tried 
 to be hopeful and believing ; but I could not understand. I 
 see it all now, though,' she added, a glow overspreading and 
 irradiating her pale face, while the eyes that had lost their 
 strained appearance seemed calmly to contemplate a near and 
 visible joy. ' The pain is all gone. I am not anxious now, 
 not even about Jack ; the picture promised truly, the end 
 has almost come, and the light I see is that which streams 
 from the Paradise of God/ 
 
 She looked, indeed, like one already half translated, as, 
 borne on the wings of faith, she saw all her past sufferings 
 merged in the fulness of joy. 
 
 Such a clear discerning of God's providence in one who had 
 groped her way through a sea of suffering, was like a light 
 shining in a dark place. The cloud seemed lifted from Mabel's 
 future, as she listened to the child's grateful tribute to the love 
 which had crowned her days. 
 
 ' Dear Rose, dear child !' said she, ' it does me good to see 
 you so happy. You certainly have a heaven in your heart, 
 I must try and learn some of your secrets.' 
 
 The child smiled at the last word, then, with mingled sweet 
 ness and gravity, whispered, drawing Mabel down so that her 
 mouth came close to her ear, ' God will send his blessed angels 
 to teach you all my secrets, and I will pray to Him every 
 night to take away your cloud.' 
 
 From this time, the relations hitherto subsisting between 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 225 
 
 Mabel and Rose seemed totally reversed. Until now, the for 
 mer had acted the part of the elder, stronger, wiser friend, but 
 in this, and in all their future interviews, the strength, the 
 wisdom and the riper years, which had constituted her supe 
 riority, instinctively gave place to that experience in heavenly 
 truth, that knowledge of things divine, in which Rose was the 
 thoroughly-gifted teacher, and she but the humble disciple. It 
 is true there was no outward and visible token of their altered 
 position. Beauty, wealth, and a high place in the social scale, 
 all combined to render Mabel, as she had ever been, the object 
 of the sick girl's respectful admiration : and the infirmities of 
 Rose, more than ever, claimed the tenderest compassion in re 
 turn : but a shadow had fallen on the path of the one, while 
 the other had reached the point where all shadows flee away ; 
 and the maiden who had but just begun to meet the battle of 
 life, gladly caught up the sacred weapons with which the child 
 had achieved her victory. 
 
 Thus, almost daily, she found herself drawn to that little 
 sanctuary of holy hopes, devout meditations, and serene joy, 
 where not she alone, but many a troubled heart besides, 
 learned a true and lasting lesson from the unconscious glow of 
 piety which illumined the face of the wasted and now dying 
 girl. 
 
 Almost to the last, she occupied her little flag-bottomed 
 arm-chair, in the window of her mother's shop, reluctant to 
 give up her daily and loving intercourse with the numerous 
 friends who looked to see her there ; and so much was Mabel 
 with her during the last fortnight of her life, that her face, too, 
 became familiar to the neighbourhood, which seemed animated 
 by a grateful affection for Rosy's beautiful friend. 
 
 They knew how unsparing she had been in attentions and 
 gifts to the little invalid ; they had measured with their eyes 
 many a parcel of books, fruit, and wholesome food, which they 
 had seen carried into the widow's dwelling, and they had re 
 joiced in Rosy's joy on the eventful day of the drive. 
 
 But they did not know the precious blessings she had carried 
 away ; they could not measure the refreshing nourishment her 
 soul had imbibed from this fountain of childish wisdom ; they 
 could not rejoice in the holy and penitent emotions there 
 awakened emotions such as make joy in heaven. 
 
 Only in after years did Mabel herself fully realize the 
 source whence most of her holy aspirations were drawn ; only 
 
 Q 
 
226 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 when she had proved the fallacy of more presumptuous 
 teachers, and learned that the sublimest truths are often those 
 which God has hid from the wise and prudent, and has re 
 vealed unto babes! 
 
 On the day of the conversation with Rose, some portion of 
 which has been related in detail, she left the widow Hope's 
 shop to return home, with a heart wonderfully cheered and 
 lightened of its burthen. It was nearly dark, when, as she 
 crossed the little park in the direction leading to her father's 
 house, she overtook Harry. He had entered the square from 
 a different street, and seeing her hastening towards him, stopped 
 and waited for her. 
 
 1 You have been walking fa^t,' said he, as she came up. 
 
 ' Yes,' she answered, a little out of breath, ' I saw it was 
 getting dark.' 
 
 He did not ask where she had been, but walked beside her 
 in silence, and when they reached the house, accompanied her 
 up the steps and rang the bell. 
 
 As Robert appeared, however, and opened the door, he 
 turned to walk away. 
 
 * Oh, don't go, Harry !' exclaimed she, adding with womanly 
 tact, ' I shall be all alone.' She knew how much more 
 readily in his present mood he would confer than receive a 
 favour. t My father has not come in, has he?' asked she, 
 turning quickly to Robert. 
 
 6 No, Miss.' 
 
 ' Oh, do stay then, Harry, and take tea with me.' 
 
 1 Tea,' muttered he, as he reluctantly followed her into the 
 hall, * who wants tea such a warm evening?' 
 
 4 Aunt Sabiah says one is always cooler after tea in summer/ 
 replied she, playfully, leading the way as she spoke to her 
 little treasure apartment. 
 
 f Because the sun has gone down,' replied he, with a smile, 
 almost with a laugh. 
 
 Far as it was from being a genuine, hearty laugh, Mabel 
 hailed it as of good omen, and flinging her bonnet upon the 
 table, and throwing open the blinds of a wide window extend 
 ing to the floor, she at once gave admittance to the breeze, and 
 imparted an attractive air to the little apartment. Harry drew 
 an arm-chair to the window, threw himself into it, and looked 
 out. Mabel sat down on the window-sill, resting her feet on a 
 little balcony outside. The moon presently began to shine on 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 227 
 
 the little park, and the trees to cast long shadows. It was a 
 pleasant scene, presented by this June evening, even in the 
 city. It reminded Mabel of similar evenings at her grand 
 mother's, or Mrs. Herbert's, when she and Harry had sat 
 together for hours on the door-step in the moonlight. She 
 ventured some reference to those bygone days, and Harry, 
 falling in with her train of thought, listened without impatience 
 to her reminiscences, and even called up incidents in their 
 childhood which had quite escaped her recollection. 
 
 Tremblingly rejoicing in the success which was attending 
 her efforts, Mabel spared no pains to render the occasion 
 agreeable. She ordered tea to be brought to them instead of 
 descending to the dining-room, and bade Robert light the 
 alabaster lamp, which threw a scarcely less soft and pleasant 
 glow of light through the room than that which prevailed 
 outside. 
 
 Now and then Harry rose and paced the room nervously, as 
 if on the point of leaving her; then, seeming to think she 
 would be lonely possibly alarmed for there was an unusual 
 noise of voices in the street below, he sat down again, and so 
 the evening passed away. Mabel could not but suspect that 
 he had stayed with her reluctantly, but it was no slight triumph 
 that he had remained on any terms, and it was an inexpressible 
 satisfaction to bid him good-night, and see him ascend to his 
 own room, like the Harry of former times. 
 
 Taught by this instance of success, she afterwards made 
 frequent appeals to his kind and brotherly feeling, and occa 
 sionally with a similar result. She needed exercise would 
 he take a walk with her? she longed for the country air 
 would he not drive her out? selfish pleas, which she might 
 reasonably urge, for her life was one of unusual restraint and 
 monotony. She chose for her constant occupation a seat in 
 her little room, where Harry was almost sure to find her 
 whenever he felt the disposition, and it soon became evident 
 that his desire to avoid her society was somewhat abated, as 
 lie often lounged in for a few moments at a time, either after 
 breakfast, or when he chanced to return home to dinner. But 
 though he no longer seemed to look upon her as one seeking 
 occasion to watch and censure him, and though now and then 
 she succeeded in engrossing a short interval of his time, these 
 grounds of hope were slight and infrequent, while her dis 
 couragements were continual and pressing. Day by day his 
 
 Q2 
 
228 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 countenance grew more unnatural, his step more unsteady, 
 while his expression of nervous distress and uneasiness had 
 become fixed and habitual. Midnight and the early morning 
 hours often found Mabel at her solitary window, awaiting 
 his return ; and the disappointment of his failing to come at 
 all was less bitter than the coarse jokes, angry oaths, or wild, 
 wandering glances, which at times betrayed his sad condition. 
 
 Her father, too, was evidently preyed upon by more than 
 one harassing anxiety. Those fatal charts over which he had 
 pored all winter, engrossed his time whenever he chanced to 
 be at home, and, frequently, when he left the house, he rolled 
 them up and took them under his arm, while Mabel watched 
 him as he came and went every time with a deeper shadow on 
 his brow. 
 
 And there was still another for whom she watched and 
 waited, who came not at all ; another footstep whose fancied 
 echo now and then caused her a sudden start ; another form 
 which haunted her by day and stole into her dreams at night ; 
 but step and form were alike imaginary. Had there been a 
 letter, or a message simply, it might have afforded some solace 
 to her aching heart had Louise even written, and incidentally 
 alluded to the companions of her journey ; but no, all was 
 blank silence, and Mabel was forced to the conclusion he 
 does not trust, perhaps he never loved. 
 
 All her faith, indeed, was needed to sustain her drooping 
 spirits in the many lonely hours to which she was condemned. 
 As she wandered through the solitary rooms of her father's 
 spacious house, she sometimes longed for the idle rattle of 
 Louise, the merry voices of the boys, or even the light foot 
 and busy tongue of Cecilia, to break the dreary silence and 
 monotony. 
 
 But in these seasons of sad and solitary reflection, deprived 
 of all human sympathy, Mabel began to experience how sweet 
 it is to draw near to the ever-present Friend, who has bid His 
 children cast all their cares upon Him, for He careth for them ; 
 she learned to realize in these bitter hours of life, that there 
 is one eye that never sleepeth, one ear that is ever open to 
 the suppliant's cry ; and often, rising above her sorrows and 
 forgetting her solitude, she was ready to exclaim, ' I am not 
 alone, because the Father is with me.' 
 
( 229 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 No studied words of sympathy 
 
 Were coldly whispered round ; 
 The silence of the humble throng 
 
 Told more than measured sound. 
 And children touched the cold, white brow, 
 
 And then in awe stood by, 
 Their new-learnt lesson thinking o'er, 
 
 Of angels in the sky. A. M. F. ANNAN. 
 
 THE month of June had nearly half expired. Mr. Vaughan 
 still delayed his journey to the West, and gave Mabel no new 
 intimation of his wish that she should start for L. Perhaps he 
 still hoped that Harry, who had listened in moody silence to 
 the declaration of his wishes in respect to his profession, and 
 had thus far shown no disposition to carry them into effect, 
 would at length manifest some symptoms of compliance and 
 accompany her. He forbore to urge the point, however, and 
 in spite of the increasing heat, no departure from the city was 
 alluded to, until one evening, when all three having been 
 present at dinner, Mr. Vaughan rose at its conclusion and 
 gravely announced to Harry ids wish to speak with him in the 
 library, to which room he himself immediately repaired. 
 Harry lingered a few moments at the table, then rising with 
 the air of a detected culprit, followed his father, closed the 
 door behind him, and the two were closeted together for 
 nearly an hour. 
 
 This period was one to Mabel of painful suspense ; the for 
 mality of the interview left her little doubt of its importance, 
 and she could easily conjecture the nature of the subjects likely 
 to be brought up. Deeply agitated, trembling so that she 
 could scarcely stand, and straining her ears to catch the 
 slightest sound, she remained in the spot where they had left 
 her, until she heard the library door open and saw Harry 
 leave the house, followed soon after by Mr. Vaughan, who, 
 
230 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 walking slowly, with his hands behind him, looked like one 
 upon whom trouble has fallen with a sudden weight, which he 
 is calculating the chances and possibilities of relieving. 
 
 She learned, afterwards, that her father and brother had 
 been engaged in settling the preliminaries of the latter's 
 leaving New York for L. ; and that these preliminaries con 
 sisted of a confession on Harry's part of a heavy debt (a debt 
 of honour, so called, contracted at the gaming-table), which 
 effectually prevented his leaving the city, and of an agree 
 ment, w'.th difficulty entered into by his already-embarrassed 
 parent, to meet the demand and free him from the mortifying 
 shackles, upon condition of his conforming strictly to his 
 views, and at once commencing the study of law with Judge 
 Paradox. She learned, too, to her surprise, that this was the 
 first interview Mr. Vaughan had ever had with Harry on the 
 subject of his misconduct, and that even now, he received his 
 confession and dismissed him without any other reprimand 
 than that which the dullest eye might detect in his counte 
 nance ; this course being simply characteristic of his extreme 
 reserve, even with his family, and want of force in regulating 
 the conduct of his household. It was only after a consider 
 able lapse of time, however, that Mabel became aware of these 
 facts, and at present she was left to all the pain of uncertainty 
 and apprehension. 
 
 This was somewhat allayed by the circumstance that her 
 father and Harry both returned home at an earlier hour than 
 usual, and by her observing that, though excessively con 
 strained in each other's society, they seemed individually to 
 be relieved, and in a slight degree cheered ; the one that he 
 bad made a confession which it was no longer possible to 
 escape, and the other from a conviction that, bad as the case 
 was, he now knew the worst. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan took an early opportunity of informing his 
 daughter that it was his desire that she should leave for L., 
 the following week, with Harry, and the latter indirectly 
 confirmed the tidings of his intended departure, by some acci 
 dental reference to the journey. Mabel also learned that her 
 father's long-postponed trip to the West would take place 
 immediately upon his having dismissed the servants, and 
 closed the house, measures which he had resolved to adopt, as 
 he should be absent for an indefinite period. 
 
 She had now plenty of employment. For the first time she 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 231 
 
 realized the necessity of looking over her father's wardrobe, 
 and providing for his comfort, during the many weeks of his 
 absence ; and this, with similar cares for herself and Harry, 
 promised ample occupation, and caused her to rejoice in that 
 womanly skill and capability which made her independent of 
 Cecilia, who had usually officiated with her needle in this 
 department. 
 
 She was busily engaged the next morning, going from room 
 to room, collecting various articles which were in need of some 
 slight repair, when she received a summons to the hall door, 
 where a little girl stood waiting to deliver a message from. 
 Mrs. Hope. Rose was very low, had been anxious to see 
 her ; would she try and come at once ? 
 
 Had Mabel had more experience in cases of slow decline 
 she would not have been astonished at this summons, for, to 
 those who understood Rose's symptoms, it was only a matter 
 of surprise that she had lingered so long ; but Mabel had not 
 realised, until now, how surely and speedily death must follow 
 the decay, whose progress she had marked step by step, and a 
 chill and shudder crept over her frame as she hastily prepared 
 to follow the little messenger, who had run back as swiftly as 
 she came. Although the day was oppressively hot, she would 
 not wait for the carriage, but walking a short distance, and 
 then availing herself of a Broadway omnibus, she soon reached 
 her destination. 
 
 An air of unusual quiet and sadness seemed to pervade the 
 little street; the neighbours looked after Mabel as she passed, 
 wondering whether she, like them, knew of the fearful change 
 which a few hours had made ; the children had ceased their 
 play, and two of the elder ones sat weeping on the door-step 
 of the closed shop. Mabel approached the little alley which 
 communicated with the rear of the building, and at its 
 entrance encountered Rosy's sturdy friend, the youthful 
 teamster, who was brushing his rough sleeve across his eyes, 
 and did not see her until she paused to let him pass. As he 
 looked up, recognised her, and read an anxious inquiry in her 
 face, he said, in a low, tremulous voice, ' She's going ; they 
 tell me she can't last the day out.' Then pressing his lips 
 firmly together, as strong men do when their feelings threaten 
 to get the mastery of them, he rushed by her, crossed the 
 street, and darted down the archway. 
 
 In the humble courtyard, women were engaged at their 
 
232 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 wash-tubs, or in hanging out clothes, and as she stooped in 
 passing beneath the wet linen more than one eye followed her 
 with mournful interest, while now arid then a childish face 
 glanced up with a pitiful, imploring look, as if hoping she 
 had come endued with some magic power to make Rosy well 
 again. Just as she reached the widow's door, she stopped 
 short, believing that the angel of death had preceded her, 
 for outside the shed, stretched across a little wood-pile, lay a 
 forlorn figure, convulsed with sobs, which she at once recog 
 nised as that of Jack. The poor boy had evidently thrown 
 himself there in an agony of grief, and in the self-abandon 
 ment of a first heart-breaking sorrow was utterly unconscious 
 of everything around. His head rested on his arms, and his 
 hands clutched at the wood, as if he were wrestling with 
 outward obstacles to ease his inward woe, the depth of which 
 might in some degree be measured by the spasmodic heaving 
 of his chest, and an hysterical choking in his throat. 
 
 Overwhelmed with pity for the boy, to whom she could not 
 venture to speak, and suspecting that a similar scene prevailed 
 in doors, Mabel was hesitating whether she should not depart 
 without intruding into the house of mourning, when the 
 widow, who had caught sight of her figure through the 
 window, came out to meet her. Mabel took her hand and 
 glanced from her face, which was perfectly calm, to that of 
 the agitated Jack. 
 
 6 Poor fellow !' said Mrs. Hope, compassionately, ' he takes 
 it hard, and no wonder. She's been talking to him,' added 
 she, in a whisper, ' and so beautifully, he won't forget it to 
 his dying day. She's asleep now, as quiet as a lamb ; it's a 
 chance whether she ever wakes, but if she should. Miss 
 Mabel, I thought she'd like to rest her eyes on your face 
 again ; she asked for you once or twice in the night ; so if 
 you'll come in ' 
 
 Mabel followed without speaking, for she could not speak, 
 into the little room. Rosy was indeed sleeping sweetly, 
 her little hands clasped on her breast, her golden hair thrown 
 back upon the pillow, and a smile upon her face, which 
 seemed to tell of heavenly dreams. An hour passed on and 
 still she slept ; the room was so quiet, that each breath of the 
 little sleeper might be counted ; there was no noise outside, 
 for love had set its faithful guard around the house, and every 
 footfall in the neighbourhood was softened, every loud voice 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 233 
 
 hushed. By-and-by a flushed, swollen, and tear-stained face 
 appeared in the doorway, and Jack, in his stocking-feet, came 
 slowly, cautiously in, and sat down among the watchers. 
 There was another pause, and at length softly, and without 
 warning, the blue eyes once more unclosed, with one more 
 fond, loving glance, they rested in turn on each of the 
 assembled group, not eye to eye, but soul to soul, they 
 seemed to stand, taking their last farewell of her who, in a 
 moment more, would be a disembodied spirit. The breath 
 grew shorter, the blue orbs closed, they listened, there was 
 no breath at all, and then the glory came and settled on the 
 little face. 
 
 As if the parting spirit, which had left its radiance on the 
 mortal clay, still hovered above their heads, they all for a 
 while stood motionless and awed ; then as a consciousness of 
 the dread reality rushed upon them, Jack darted from the 
 room with a loud cry of anguish, Lydia buried her head in 
 her mother's lap, and Mabel, drawing her veil over her face, 
 glided noiselessly away. 
 
 The little form which had taken birth within the close 
 atmosphere of the city, and pined and perished in the narrow 
 limits of a dark and gloomy street, was not destined to sleep 
 its last sleep within those crowded and imprisoning walls. 
 They buried her on a quiet hill-side, where the grass and 
 wild flowers might grow on the little grave, where summer 
 insects and soaring birds might chirp and sing above it, and 
 where the murmur of running water fell upon the ear. 
 
 * Will they give her a place among the city poor ?' asked the 
 milk-boy of the ruddy teamster, nodding his head significantly 
 in the direction of the vacant window. 
 
 Owen Dowst, for that was the teamster's name, feared 
 so, but it seemed to him a pity. 
 
 He but echoed the thought of the boisterous milk-boy, who 
 had a heart as big and tender as his voice was deep and 
 sonorous. ' There's a little Dutch burying-ground in the 
 corner of my father's milk-farm,' said the boy ; ' it slopes down 
 to the East River, and is out o' use now. There's no crowd 
 ing there, room enough, arid a plenty for many a child like 
 that ; tell 'em so ; and look here, Owen, if the idea suits the 
 widder, drive out with your team to-night, and I'll be there 
 myself with a spade.' 
 
 And so it was that no hired hands dug the little grave. 
 
234 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 ( The blessed Lord spared our Jemmy to us, it's now six 
 months ago, wife,' said a pale-faced undertaker, whose work 
 shop was not far off, * and there's the box I worked away at, 
 that long week, while you watched to see him die. I could'nt 
 ever sell it, no how. I've cried over it many a time, and 
 often thought, when I've laid eyes on't since, that it seemed 
 like a keepsake, to remind me o' the mercy o' the Lord. But 
 I've been a thinkin' to part with it. If 't wouldn't be no 
 offence to anybody, I'd like to see the little golden-haired gal, 
 that had such a pretty smile for everybody, laid in the cradle 
 I made for my boy. It's the best o' stuff', and I driv every 
 nail myself. S'posen you go round to-night and speak on't 
 to the poor woman. Speak kind o' gentle, wife ; poor soul, 
 her child is gone.' 
 
 A messenger was despatched in due season by Mabel, to 
 make every possible offer of assistance, but all that love could 
 dictate had been done already; the humble neighbours had 
 vied with each other in their efforts to comfort the family and 
 honour the memory of the angel child. 
 
 The funeral was appointed for the day preceding that on 
 which Mabel was to leave New York, and she was in attend 
 ance at an early hour. The house was quiet and in perfect 
 order ; she entered at the shop door, but the bell was muffled 
 and gave forth no sound. The kitchen into which she passed 
 was vacant, save that the child, clad in her snow white robes, 
 seemingly lay sleeping there. The little hands were peace 
 fully folded on the breast, the serene smile still rested on the 
 face, and beauty was stamped upon the features from which 
 pain had for ever fled. Death had not only glorified the soul, 
 but had transfigured the mortal part. 
 
 ( She is not here, she is risen,' said a low, solemn voice, 
 close at Mabel's side. 
 
 She looked up, unconscious that any one had entered the 
 room, where she stood absorbed in contemplation. It was the 
 tall and venerable man, known to us as Father Noah. Mabel 
 recognised him at once, though she could not recall his name, 
 He seemed regardless, however, of ceremony, in resuming his 
 acquaintance with her, and continued 
 
 * You have known this child, for she was a child in years,' he 
 added, as if feeling that in some sense the term was misapplied. 
 
 Mabel bowed in assent, her tearful face speaking plainly of 
 the affection she had felt for her. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 235 
 
 * She was a wonderful child,' he exclaimed, meditatively, 
 ' wonderful ! She has accomplished a beautiful work in this 
 neighbourhood, it puts to shame many of my profession. 
 Death has no power over such as she, except to release them 
 from pain. I am glad you knew her,' he said, after a pause. 
 
 Perhaps Mabel's expression as he spoke, revealed some 
 surprise at the personal interest implied in his remark, for he 
 said again, * Yes, I am very glad you knew her. I have 
 no doubt it has been a benefit to her, I am sure it has been 
 to you.' 
 
 * She, she has been my better angel !' exclaimed Mabel, 
 fervently, 'she is still.' 
 
 ' Her life has been a lesson to us all,' said the good clergy 
 man. ' I pray God,' he continued, laying his hand solemnly 
 on Mabel's head, ( that He will perfect and finish the good 
 work which, through one of His little children, He has begun 
 in you.' So saying, he went to meet Mrs. Hope in the small 
 inner room, and Mabel turned away to recover her self- 
 command. 
 
 As she stood resting her hand on the mantel-piece above 
 the kitchen stove, she caught sight of an open daguerreotype 
 case, which, on a nearer inspection, she discovered to contain 
 a likeness of Hosy. It had been taken at some happy moment 
 when the gentle smile was on her face, and the little arm 
 chair, her simple dress, and all the features of her ordinary 
 life, were faithfully impressed by the magic instrument. 
 Mabel was wondering that she had never seen it before, and 
 was blessing God in her heart for that beneficent invention in 
 which rich and poor may almost be said to share alike, when 
 Jack appeared at her side, and attempted to speak. Except 
 at Rosy's death-bed, Mabel had never seen him since the day 
 they met in the grocer's shop, and the latter scene rose full 
 before her as she turned and met his eager face. Impressed 
 by her glance, and half choked with his own grief, the boy 
 made one or two vain attempts to articulate. Then, pointing 
 at the likeness of his sister, he gasped out, in broken phrase, 
 the words, I I paid for it with that dollar,' and over 
 come by his emotion, he clapped his rough hands to his face, 
 and disappeared through the doorway. 
 
 The little neighbourhood now began to assemble, and 
 Mabel, retreating to a corner, was touched to see them enter. 
 There was no formality, no ceremony in receiving them, or 
 
236 MABEL VAUGHAtf. 
 
 awarding them their place ; they came in crowds, but there 
 was no confusion ; the small house' could not contain half of 
 them, and they entered in turn to gaze once more at the fea 
 tures of the neighbourhood's child, and those for whom there 
 was no room patiently waited without. All ages were repre 
 sented. Old women were there, leaning on their staffs, and 
 children were borne in their fathers' arms to take one more 
 look at Rosy. The girls of her little class were there, wear 
 ing no badge of mourning, but each, with instinctive and 
 grateful prompting, bearing under her arm a new Testa 
 ment, the pledge of Rose's love. 
 
 The service at length commenced. It was performed by 
 the clergyman already alluded to, and was simple, solemn, 
 beautiful, interrupted only by the sobs which rung through 
 the house. It concluded with a hymn a voluntary and 
 touching tribute, the sweet lifting up of childish voices, the 
 simple offering of loving hearts. There was a pause, arid 
 then the crowd began to file away, lingering about the door 
 until the little form should be borne through their midst. 
 There had been no concerted arrangements with regard to 
 bearers, and a slight hesitation ensued in consequence, when 
 a tall youth stepped forward, closed the casket, lifted it 
 gently in his strong arms, and bore it slowly arid tenderly 
 through the parting crowd. The widow and her children 
 followed Owen Dowst as he thus cleared for them a passage 
 through the friendly throng, took their place in the humble 
 vehicle which awaited them, and in a moment more moved on. 
 With one consent the assembled neighbourhood formed in 
 long and regular procession, and treading the causeway with 
 slow and solemn pace, kept the carriage in sight for the dis 
 tance of a mile or two and then reluctantly and sadly 
 dispersed. 
 
 Mabel found herself alone in the deserted house. She had 
 left her carriage at some 1 little distance, feeling that its rich 
 trappings would be a mockery in this place of humble, sacred 
 sorrow. She looked round the little shop as if bidding it a 
 long farewell, then stepped upon the footpath. An old woman 
 stood there leaning upon her staff a very old woman, too 
 infirm to follow the mourning procession the same old 
 woman who lived in the opposite house and had been accus 
 tomed to watch Rosy from the window. 
 
 4 We shan't ever see her there no more,' said she to Mabel, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 237 
 
 pointing with her crutch to the little empty arm-chair, * but,' 
 and she looked up to the sky above, ' Heaven don't seem so 
 far off to an old body like me, now that I know she's sittin' at 
 some bright winder up there, watchin' to see me comin' in/ 
 
 * Drive out on the Bloomingdale road, Donald,' said Mabel, 
 when she reached the carriage. ' You will overtake the child's 
 funeral ; follow, but keep at a distance/ 
 
 They did so ; and as the humble train moved into the un 
 pretending cemetery, Mabel alighted and joined the mourners, 
 who were grouped around the grave. They saw the child 
 laid in her quiet resting-place, they waited and listened with 
 sad hearts, while Owen and the milk-boy, who had reached the 
 spot before them, gently heaped the earth upon her grave, and 
 then they went away. Mabel lingered somewhat behind the 
 rest, feeling, as the earth closed over the remains of her young 
 friend, scarcely less bereaved than the broken-hearted group 
 who had looked their last upon the darling of their hearts. 
 'Dear Rosy,' thought she, as seating herself on the grass of 
 the sloping hill-side, she strewed the mound with the flowers 
 which she had brought for the purpose, < " He maketh thee 
 to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth thee beside the 
 still waters ;" thine earthly pilgimage was hard, but its end is 
 peace, joy, and everlasting life/ 
 
 
( 238 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Her love is firme, her care continual], 
 
 So oft as he, through his own foolish pride 
 
 Or weaknes, is to sinful bands made thrall. 
 
 SPENSER. 
 
 'Mr daughter Margaret takes after me/ was a favourite 
 exclamation of the old kdy Vaughan. 'She has more 
 shrewdness in her little finger than Sabiah has in her whole 
 body.' 
 
 This was very true ; for Mrs., now the widow, Ridgway, 
 was pre-eminent for nearly all the qualities which were con 
 spicuous in her mother, and in which Sabiah was totally 
 deficient. Thus she was proud, ambitious, calculating, and 
 selfish. Money was in her eyes the chief good ; and the social 
 standing and distinction which it helped to purchase were among 
 the most precious consequences of its possession. Keen and 
 far-seeing in her observation of men and tilings, she rarely 
 failed to gain her point, and no one was ever known to win the 
 advantage of her in an argument or a bargain. She prided 
 herself upon being a good manager, and upon conducting her 
 household on the most thorough economical and saving prin 
 ciples. The neighbourhood always gave her the credit, also, 
 of managing her husband, a patient, plodding man, who set an 
 exalted estimate upon her capacity, and practically acknow 
 ledged her as his better half. 
 
 Hospitality was a virtue to which she had no claim ; for, 
 unless prompted by some ulterior motive, she was seldom 
 known to throw open her doors for the entertainment of guests. 
 After the death of Mr. Ridgway, indeed, her utter solitude 
 might seem sufficient to render her sister's society desirable ; 
 but this was by no means the prominent cause of her extending 
 an invitation to Sabiah. In the first place, her brother John 
 had set her the example, and she would not be outdone by him 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 239 
 
 in patronizing their destitute relative : and secondly, her saga 
 cious mind saw various ways and means by which Sabiah might 
 be made a useful auxiliary in her household. It was pride and 
 policy, therefore, rather than natural affection, which induced 
 her to offer her sister a home. 
 
 Nor was the apparent cordiality with which she begged a 
 visit from her nephew and niece due to any more disinterested 
 motives. Though Mrs. Ridgway would never have acknow 
 ledged the fact, she did not feel quite satisfied with her social 
 position in L ; and as the town of L. was to her the 
 world, the attainment of this desirable position was her highest 
 earthly ambition. It was true, her husband had long been the 
 moneyed man of the place, and so had his father before him. 
 There was scarcely a family of standing in the neighbourhood 
 which had not, in some remote generation, or in the person of 
 some one of its members, been brought into close business 
 relations, or even under personal obligations, to the elder or 
 younger Ridgway ; and the widow of the latter could boast an 
 acquaintance with every onward and retrograde step of their 
 affairs, every intermarriage they had made, every inch of their 
 pedigree. 
 
 This intimate knowledge of the aristocracy of L. how 
 ever, had never ripened into that actual intimacy with them 
 which Mrs. Margaret Ridgway coveted. The member of 
 Congress for the district had been in the habit of talking freely 
 with Mr. Ridgway on the church steps; the handsome 
 daughters of Judge Paradox bowed politely to his widow, 
 when they met her in the street or the shops ; and all subscrip 
 tion papers and charity petitions were promptly handed to her 
 door. 
 
 Still there was an easy, every-day intercourse prevailing in 
 this choice circle, which existed quite independently of the 
 loud-spoken, bustling, and not over-refined woman of wealth, 
 who eagerly sought admittance within its pale ; and it was 
 with the view of breaking down this nicely-defined line of 
 separation, that she now proposed to add to her own claims 
 those of her nephew and niece. 
 
 Though her sphere of action and observation had been 
 limited, Mrs. Ridgway understood the world and was not 
 deceived in her calculations. Mr. John Vaughan was known 
 by repute in this his native county. New York was not so 
 far distant but that reports of his wealth, standing, and fashion- 
 
240 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 able alliance had reached the ears of those who remembered 
 him in his boyhood, and the busy tongue of Mrs. Ridgway 
 was not needed to circulate the beauty of his daughter or the 
 accomplishments of his foreign-bred son. 
 
 Thus, when the aunt, presuming upon the attraction of her 
 expected visitors, ventured to stop the carriage of the member 
 of Congress, converse somewhat more familiarly than usual 
 with his wife, and close with ( I expect my nephew and niece 
 next week your young people must call,' a girlish face oil 
 the front seat looked very bright and animated, and the lady 
 herself replied without hesitation, ' They will do so, certainly; 
 what clay did you say you expected them ?' 
 
 And when, too, she joined Mrs. Paradox, coming down 
 the church aisle, and remarked somewhat abruptly, * So my 
 nephew is to study law with your husband, I hear!' the stately 
 Mrs. Paradox pressed Mrs. Ridgway' s hand \vith rather more 
 warmth than usual, saying, ' Yes, a very agreeable addition to 
 our circle,' and thinking, ' a capital chance for one of my 
 handsome daughters.' 
 
 Thus the arrival of the judge's student, and his sister, the 
 New York belle, imparted no little excitement to the place. 
 Mabel's first appearance with Mrs. Ridgway at church, was 
 the realization of a long-delayed hope, and it was with pro 
 portionate disappointment that many an eye looked in vain 
 for her brother, who, in spite of his aunt's offended looks and 
 protestations, lay stretched on a sofa at home. It was well, 
 perhaps, that he stayed away on this occasion, for the presence 
 of Mabel alone proved sufficient to turn the heads of all the 
 young girls in the congregation. Her height, her dress, her 
 complexion, were duly studied, and more than one little piece 
 of vanity spent the whole of the sermon-time mentally endea 
 vouring to cut the pattern of a graceful fall of lace, which 
 gave Miss Vaughan's straw bonnet such a genteel air. 
 
 In the course of the week everybody called, and various 
 festivities, purposely postponed until now, began to be talked 
 of and prepared for. The young strangers, meanwhile, were 
 the universal subjects of notice and conversation. Mabel's 
 manners, beauty, and becoming attire, furnished no small 
 source of novelty and interest, but the innovations and surprises 
 which Harry introduced were of a still more startling and 
 original nature in the eyes of the quiet townspeople. His 
 English gig was of a style never before seen in L., his 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 241 
 
 long-tailed grey ponies were not to be surpassed in the country ; 
 but these wonders were eclipsed by the arrival of his famous 
 trotting mare, Mad Sallie, which he had ordered to be sent 
 after him, and which, with its fancy blanket and braided tail, 
 was talked of and canvassed for ten miles round. 
 
 Thus the town of L., so far from proving a place of sum 
 mer retirement and repose, had been suddenly thrown into 
 a ferment, and Mabel and Harry found themselves in the very 
 centre of a whirl and excitement of their own creating. 
 
 6 AYhy need I go down, Aunt Sabiah ?' Mabel would say, 
 when morning visitors were announced. ' They do not come 
 to see me, and it is so pleasant to be quiet and at leisure in the 
 country/ 
 
 * Oh, don't call it country, dear,' Sabiah would reply, in a 
 deprecating voice ; i she won't like it, besides, you must go 
 down. Why, they have called on purpose to see you, she'll 
 be dreadfully put out ' she, with Sabiah, always meaning her 
 sister Margaret. 
 
 In a moment more the bustling, flurried, impatient Mrs. 
 Ridgway would put her head inside the door, exclaiming, 
 ' Make haste, Mabel. O child, I wish you had on your lilac 
 dress ! It's the So and So's ; do hurry down, they're such 
 pleasant people, been so attentive to me since Mr. Ridgway 
 died,' and Mabel, dressing her face in the smile which 
 masked a heavy heart, would go down and do her best to 
 give satisfaction. 
 
 As for Harry, he soon found his level in this new sphere. 
 There is a freemasonry among fast young men, and, go where 
 they will, they speedily find ^their compeers, and are recognised 
 in their turn. Change of scene, and relief from the embarrass 
 ments he had woven around himself in New York, for a 
 time checked him in his self-indulgent course, and Mabel 
 began to hope that her never-ceasing care and influence, the 
 restraints of her aunt's house, and interest in the study of his 
 profession, would prove efficient and salutary safeguards, and 
 finally restore him to himself. It happened unfortunately, 
 however, that a neighbouring university had just released its 
 students for a summer vacation, and among the idle young 
 men thus thrown upon the community, Harry found more 
 congenial minds than those which were entombed within the 
 walls of Judge Paradox's office. The dashing young man 
 about town, whose fast horses were the admiration of the 
 
 B 
 
242 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 neighbourhood, and whose attractive manners and generous 
 habits won him. universal popularity, could not resist the 
 temptation to forsake the musty study of the law, and engage 
 in those excursions, drives, sporting and fishing parties, which 
 would have been harmless, but for the loss of time they in 
 volved, and the imprudence, folly, and extravagance to which 
 they eventually led. 
 
 Whatever good resolutions he might have formed, whatever 
 efforts at self-control he might have made, it soon became evi 
 dent that the former had become undermined by temptation, 
 and the latter had proved insufficient to resist it. With aching 
 heart, Mabel saw her short-lived hopes extinguished, and 
 trembled more than ever for the consequences of her brother's 
 reckless and wild career. She had but two rules for her own 
 conduct regarding him, there were but two agents which 
 she employed for his salvation, and these were love and prayer. 
 Not by word or look did she censure or blame him. She well 
 knew that judgment belongeth unto God, and can only be 
 rashly assumed by any, least of all by a sister. But she un 
 derstood in all its force the right which that sweet relationship 
 implies, and, counselled by her tender affection alone, she 
 patiently strove to be true to its faithful dictates. 
 
 Not less gentle, beneficent, and self-sacrificing, were these 
 loving counsels, from the fact that they had their source in the 
 secret depths of a humble and contrite, as well as deceived, 
 forsaken, and disappointed heart. Though forbearing to re 
 proach her brother, bitterly did Mabel now reproach herself 
 for the many wasted and misspent hours which had robbed her 
 of his society and confidence, arid given her in return only 
 blighted hopes, wasted affections, and a grieved and wounded 
 spirit. Shrink from it as she might, disown, as she long did, 
 the cruel thought, the conviction gradually forced itself upon 
 her, that her heart had been perseveringly sought to be lightly 
 discarded, that it had garnered up its treasures in one who 
 prized not the gift, and that the friendship which to her had 
 seemed the crowning circumstance of life, had been to hirn 
 but a winter's pastime. 
 
 Had this conjecture still admitted of a doubt, that doubt 
 would have been effectually removed by a letter received 
 from Mrs. Leroy about a fortnight after Mabel's arrival 
 inL. 
 
 It was dated from Trenton, where the party, after spending 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 243 
 
 four weeks in travelling", had agreed to pass a few days before 
 finally separating. After giving a general account of the 
 journey, Louise added, ' It has not been so very pleasant after 
 all, there has been so much disagreement about our route, 
 and as to who were entitled to the best rooms in the hotels. 
 Fanny Broadhead seemed to think the world was made for her. 
 Mrs. Vannecker manoeuvred, as she always does, to get the 
 best of everything, and I stood up for my rights now and then, 
 for I had no idea of being trampled on by anybody. Fanny 
 and the Colonel quarrel so, it's perfectly scandalous ; and Mrs. 
 Earle has given a great deal of trouble too ; she has been 
 ill ever since we left Niagara ; and my boys have plagued me 
 to death, Cecilia can't manage them at all. Nobody has 
 seemed to enjoy it much but Mr. Dudley and a Mrs. Wolfe, 
 the English widow who was at Fan's wedding, and joined her 
 and the Colonel on the trip. She is young, and pretty, and sen 
 timental, talks poetry and so on, and Mr. Dudley is per 
 fectly devoted to her. They take moonlight walks, and sit on 
 the rocks and compose sonnets. It is a regular flirtation. 
 Mr. Earle calls her Mr. Dudley's last. I can't see what he 
 finds to fancy in her ; she makes herself very disagreeable to 
 everybody else. I shall go from here to Newport, and advise 
 you to join me there. If you have been at Aunt Ridgway's a 
 fortnight, you must need change of air and scene. I made 
 her a visit once when I was a little girl, and I never shall 
 forget it. I haven't heard from Mr. Leroy for a month. I 
 suppose there are letters for me in New York. Tell Harry 
 he had better come to Newport, and bring his horses.' 
 
 Mabel had read and re-read this letter some half-dozen 
 times, had thought and wept over its contents, and it still lay 
 open on her lap, when her solitude was broken in upon by the 
 entrance of her aunt Sabiah. It was one of her trials now 
 that she seldom had an hour which she could enjoy without 
 interruption. Sabiah was rarely the intruder, however, it 
 being usually the bustling Mrs. liidgway who robbed her of 
 all peace and quiet. She tried to look a welcome, therefore, 
 as her aunt came cautiously in, glanced around, and then, 
 carefully shut the door behind her. 
 
 ' I think, if I were you, I would go to the party to-night, 
 Mabel/ said she, in a subdued voice, as if she believed some 
 one were listening at the key-hole ; < she's got her heart so 
 set upon it.' 
 
244 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 ' Oh, don't ask me to do that, aunt,' replied Mabel, a little 
 impatiently, rising abruptly from her seat, and thrusting- her 
 letter into her pocket. ' I can't go I do not want to go I'm 
 out of spirits. Everybody is at times,' added she, as Sabiah 
 glanced from the letter to her face. 
 
 * Well, I dare say you've got a letter from Louise ; no 
 wonder it has put you out of sorts it would me. But you'd 
 forget it, if you would go to the party, and see all the young 
 people, and have a good time. She didn't like what you said 
 yesterday about not going.' 
 
 6 It can't make any difference to her,' said Mabel. ' She 
 thinks I enjoy these things, but I do not in the least, aunt. I 
 can't bear to see so many people. She does not go to such 
 places herself, and I had rather stay at home with her and 
 you.' 
 
 ' Well, but you see, my dear, this isn't a common occasion. 
 Mrs. Bloodgood, who gives this party, is wife to the member 
 of Congress from this district. They're a very fine family 
 one of the oldest families anywhere round. I used to hear of 
 them, and of all their fine doings, when I lived at home. She 
 never knew them much before you came, and she counts on 
 your going, and making a fine show, and all that. 'Twould 
 be a pity to put her out ; you don't know how set she is about 
 a thing when she has made up her mind to it.' Sabiah spoke 
 rapidly, urging her sister's cause as if it had been her own, 
 and betraying at the same time her dread of that displeasure 
 of which she had early learned to stand in awe. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances, Mabel would have felt 
 bound to comply with the wishes of either of her aunts, 
 even at some sacrifice to herself; but her present state of 
 mind rendered the thought of appearing among a crowd of 
 strangers harrowing in the extreme, and she endeavoured to 
 parry Sabiah's arguments with the words, * But I should not 
 make a " fine show." I couldn't do any credit to myself or 
 Aunt Margaret either ; I do not feel well I am sad, unhappy, 
 miserable.' 
 
 She spoke the last words almost at random ; but Sabiah, 
 putting a very natural interpretation upon them, replied in a 
 half-sympathizing, half-expostulatory tone, * Well, child, I 
 suppose you are a part of the time, at least, It's not strange 
 you should be. No doubt, you are worrying about Harry, 
 and thinking he has come here to run the same rig he did in 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 245 
 
 New York. Bat, dear-a-me, you can't help the matter, and 
 it's no use thinking anything ab :mt it. He won't go to the 
 party, you may depend, so it isn't worth while to be troubled 
 about that. It is a beautiful ric e out to Mr. BJoodgood's 
 place, and a beautiful place when j( >u get there. Mrs. Paradox 
 just sent round to invite you to go in her carriage, and you 
 can send back word that you will, ana so it will be all settled, 
 and you'll have a nice time, and Margaret will be suited, 
 and ' 
 
 Sabiah's enumeration of the happy results of Mabel's com 
 pliance was here interrupted by the loud voice of Mrs. Ridg- 
 way, calling to her about some household matter, and she 
 was compelled to hurry away, Mabel saying to her as she 
 went away, ' I cannot go, Aunt Sabiah indeed, I cannot. I 
 wish you would tell Aunt Margaret so.' 
 
 Quite a new turn was given to the affair, however, when, at 
 dinner, Harry unexpectedly declared his intention of accepting 
 the invitation. 
 
 * That's right, Harry !' cried his Aunt Margaret, who, 
 having heard him express his contempt for parties of this 
 description, had scarcely expected he would be prevailed upon 
 to attend. * You won't be the loser by improving your 
 acquaintance with the Bloodgoods, I'll venture to say ; there's 
 nobody in this part of the country entertains as they do.' 
 
 6 It is a pleasant drive out there, at any rate,' said Harry, 
 with a somewhat indifferent air. ' Everybody seems to be 
 going. I was introduced to young Bloodgood at the Lake 
 House, this morning, where I went fishing, and he's a very 
 fine fellow. He urged my coming to his father's this evening, 
 and I told him I would. It seems there's a young man in 
 town I've forgotten his name some one that has visited 
 here in college vacations, and is very popular in the neigh 
 bourhood ; this affair is got up on his account. He's been 
 somewhere at the other end of the world, and is to start again 
 to-morrow just here to have a peep at his friends, and then 
 be off.' 
 
 4 Who can it be?' exclaimed Mrs. Bidgway. ' Can't you 
 remember his name, Harry ? Did you say he was a relation 
 of the family?' 
 
 But Harry could tell nothing more ; and, the curiosity and 
 speculative wonder of his aunt being excited to the utmost, 
 she now rehearsed the Bloodgood pedigree in all its branches, 
 
246 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 enumerating the ages of all the male members, and endea 
 vouring to fix upon the identical individual whom the family 
 were so eager to honour. The fortune and merits of some 
 half-dozen having been fully discussed, and each in turn pro 
 nounced the undoubted oSject of so much attention, she at 
 length arrived at the satisfactory conclusion that, if it was not 
 one of these, it must be somebody else at all events, some 
 body of wealth, family, and distinction. * There, Miss Mabel, 
 think what you will lose !' said she, sharply, turning upon 
 Mabel, whose interest she had evidently been striving to 
 awaken all the while. 
 
 Mabel, who, lost in a reverie, had been conscious of nothing 
 beyond Harry's announcement of his intentions, looked up with 
 an absent air, and when he immediately added. ' Why, you 
 mean to go, don't you. May?' she faltered out, 'Yes, if you 
 will take me with you.' 
 
 ' Ah, ah !' exclaimed her aunt, in a manner at once taunt 
 ing and self-gratulatory, ' So you cannot resist this handsome 
 young stranger ! I thought that was all that was wanting 
 some distinguished guest for whom it was worth while to put 
 on your best smiles/ 
 
 With only a dim conception of her aunt's meaning, but 
 willing that her change of purpose should be attributed 
 to anything rather than the real motive, Mabel allowed 
 the remark to pass unchallenged, and even submitted 
 patiently to a succession of similar petty sarcasms, which 
 were coarse rather than ill-natured, for Mrs. Ridgway was 
 too well satisfied with the triumph she had achieved to be 
 intentionally severe. She little suspected, meanwhile, the 
 far greater triumph Mabel had gained over her own feelings 
 in thus consenting to accompany Harry, for whom she 
 dreaded some less-desirable companionship if she should 
 indulge her own wishes by remaining at home. 
 
 ' Now, wear something handsome,' was the eager and 
 almost imperative remark with which poor Mabel was assailed 
 a few hours later, when, seated alone in her room, with 
 Louise's letter once more in her hand, she had for the moment 
 forgotten the cruel ordeal in store for her that evening. 
 * Come, let me look at your dresses ;' and, without ceremony, 
 her pertinacious aunt lifted the lid of a travelling-box which 
 contained the richer articles of her wardrobe, and one after 
 another spread them out for inspection. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 247 
 
 As might have been expected, she at once made choice of 
 the gayest and richest ball-dress among them all, and Mabel 
 could have cried with vexation at the persevering energy with 
 which she insisted upon her niece's appearing in a costume as 
 ill-suited to the occasion as to her painfully depressed state of 
 mind. A compromise was at length effected, by which an 
 exquisite flounced muslin was substituted for the gay silken 
 fabric ; and although the delicate texture of the former, and 
 its choice trimming and embroidery, rendered it unsuitable in 
 Mabel's eyes for a six miles' drive, she was thankful to have 
 in some degree overruled her aunt's bad taste, and to be 
 allowed to indulge the hope that, clothed in spotless white, 
 she should, at least, fail to be conspicuous. 
 
 It was a proud moment for Mrs. Ridgway when Harry's 
 little phaeton drove to the door; when her handsome niece 
 came down stairs, attired in the newest fashion though she 
 did wish she had put on a gayer sash when Harry appeared 
 with such beautiful little shirt-frills as she had no idea young 
 gentlemen wore now-a-days ; when she accompanied them 
 down to the gate, to tuck in Mabel's dress and spread a shawl 
 across her lap ; when Judge Paradox passed by at the moment 
 and bowed ; when the neighbours ran to the window to see the 
 young New Yorkers start ; and when, finally, the intractable 
 mare, after many vain attempts to get away, dashed furiously 
 down the street Sabiah in the meantime standing in the 
 doorway, vexing her poor heart lest Mad Sallie should break 
 Mabel's neck, and she never forgive herself for having 
 persuaded the dear child to run such an awful risk. 
 
( 248 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The ear inclined to every voice of grief, 
 
 The hand that oped spontaneous to relief, 
 
 The heart, whose impulse stay'd not for the mind 
 
 To freeze to doubt what charity en join' d, 
 
 But sprang to man's warm instinct for mankind. 
 
 NEW TIMOX. 
 
 * HAVE you seen her, Uncle Bayard ? tell me, have you ?' 
 eagerly exclaimed the animated sixteen-year-old girl, who was 
 seated in the carriage of the member of Congress on the day 
 when Mrs. Ridgway proclaimed the expected arrival of her 
 guests. This earnest remark was addressed to a tall young 
 man, with a broad forehead, and singularly frank and noble 
 countenance, whom the little fairy had joined, on the evening 
 of the party at Mrs. Bloodgood's house, and playfully caught 
 by the arm while she put the important question. 
 
 6 Seen who ?' asked the gentleman, with a smile which 
 betrayed that he knew very well whom she meant. c Seen 
 who ?' repeated the girl with a mocking air. ' Oh, now, 
 Uncle Bayard, you needn't pretend ; I saw you watching 
 her for as much as five minutes ; so tell me, what do you think 
 of her ?' 
 
 6 "What ought I to think of her ? Come, teach me my lesson 
 again, puss/ said the young man, evading a direct reply. 
 
 4 Ah ! you needn't ask me,' said the pretty little girl, 
 looking archly up into his face. i You have been studying 
 at the fountain-head; I saw you in the looking-glass, and 
 you never took your .eyes off her for five nay, for ten 
 minutes.' 
 
 ' And what was the result ? Did you see my thoughts 
 reflected in the mirror too ?' 
 
 ' Yes pretty clearly ; you thought her the most beautiful, 
 elegant, magnificent creature that ever you beheld in your 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 249 
 
 life ; if you didn't, I'll never forgive you. Now tell me,' 
 continued she coaxingly, ' isn't shejsplendid ? 
 
 ' Yes, Bessie, and so is an iceberg.' 
 
 < Oh, what a cruel, wicked, unjust comparison !' exclaimed 
 the enthusiastic Bessie, resentfully flinging away the hand 
 which, in her earnestness, she had a moment before affection 
 ately clasped. s You would not say so if you knew her. She 
 is as pleasant and charming as she is beautiful.' 
 
 i I wouldn't know her on any account,' persisted the pro 
 voking Bayard. 
 
 ' Now, why not?' challenged Bessie, throwing back her 
 head with a defiant air. 
 
 * I should be afraid of a chill,' and he feigned a slight 
 shudder, as if he suddenly felt a current of cold air. 
 
 ' It is enough to give one a chill to hear you talk/ retorted 
 beauty's champion, with spirit. * You don't deserve to get 
 acquainted with her, and I almost hope you won't have a 
 chance. I won't introduce you.' 
 
 4 A charitable resolution,' responded her youthful uncle. 
 4 1 cannot conceive of a greater danger than being brought into 
 collision with that brilliant ' 
 
 6 Stop ! stop ! don't you speak that word again,' cried Bessie, 
 trying to reach his lips with her little hand. 
 
 The tall young man threw back his head, to escape this 
 check upon his freedom of speech, and laughingly continued 
 * I am ready to admire her to your heart's content, Bessie, 
 only at a distance, mind.* 
 
 ' Fie, uncle, what a coward I' 
 
 i True enough, little Bess, I plead guilty to the charge,' 
 said Bayard, assuming a more serious tone than that in which 
 the dialogue had hitherto been conducted. l A man living as 
 I do, where life is plain, simple, and robbed of all convention 
 alities, learns to love, esteem, and reverence, to the last degree, 
 a warm-hearted, true, devoted woman, one who can quite 
 forget herself in the glow of her zeal for another, as a little 
 friend of mine has done to-night ; but, Bessie, if I read her 
 face aright, this Miss Yaughan of yours is cold, proud, and 
 self-confident. I confess I am afraid of such a woman.' 
 
 ' O uncle ! her smile is bewitching and her manners are full 
 of warmth,' exclaimed Bessie. 
 
 1 But the smile seems to come by rule, and her manners are 
 too studied to be attractive. All the graces in the world will 
 
250 ?,IAP.EL VAUGILYX. 
 
 not compensate for the want of natural cheerfulness and 
 simple* He here checked himself abruptly, as Bessie put up 
 her finger in a warning manner. This time she was evidently 
 in earnest, and a slight rustling movement in the immediate 
 vicinity of the speaker likewise recommended a caution, which 
 had, however, come too late to save the embarrassment which 
 ensued. 
 
 The conversation had taken place in Mrs. Bloodgood's 
 library, which chanced to be vacated at the moment by the 
 crowd of visitors which thronged the hall and parlours, and 
 the parties engaged in it had been quite oblivious of the fact, 
 that ; standing as they did close to the open folding doors which 
 led thence into one of the drawing-rooms, every word of their 
 animated dispute could be distinctly heard by any person 
 standing on the other side of the partition. Weary with the 
 unsuccessful effort to rally her wounded and agitated spirits, 
 Mabel had a moment before sought refuge in a recess formed 
 by a projecting mantel-piece and the partition wall of the 
 library, and, while ostensibly endeavouring to make the ac 
 quaintance of a child permitted to sit up beyond its usual bed 
 time, she \vas striving to collect and refresh her scattered 
 senses, and already exhausted powers. It may well be be 
 lieved that she was but little aided in the effort by the above 
 dialogue, every word of which reached her ears, though until 
 her name was spoken at its close, she had no suspicion to 
 whom it referred. Like a hunted deer, which in seeking a 
 place of rest only finds itself the subject of new and painful 
 embarrassments, she started, and without looking in the 
 direction of the voices, crossed with a quick step to the other 
 extremity of the well-filled room, thus putting a little throng 
 of people between herself and the unwary speakers. She had 
 recognized Bessie's lively tones, but those of her uncle were 
 unfamiliar ; and having gained the shelter of the crowd, the 
 impulse was irresistible to look back and discover who it 
 might be who had judged her with so much severity. She 
 had crossed the room in such a direction that she would have 
 been enabled to do this, had Bayard retained his former 
 position, but a like impulse had led him to step within the 
 archway of the folding-doors ; and as she timidly lifted 
 her face, suffused as it was with a deep and burning blush, 
 she met the 'clear, blue, honest eye of the young man fixed 
 full upon her, and her own dropped again instinctively, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 251 
 
 while her agitation visibly increased as she thus encountered 
 Ids gaze and felt that her quick movement was understood and 
 appreciated. 
 
 Had his good heart experienced anything but pain and 
 regret at his censorious words having been thus overheard, the 
 latter emotions would have been at once excited by the patient, 
 deprecating, reproachful glance of the misjudged and sensitive 
 girl. There was no proud contempt, no haughty defiance in 
 the gentle drooping of the head, the painful blush which over 
 spread her cheeks and brow on thus hearing herself condemned 
 for emotions the very reverse of tho<e by which she was in 
 reality actuated ; there was no shade of anger in the coun 
 tenance whicli expressed hurt and wounded, but not bitter or 
 resentful, feelings. 
 
 6 Uncle Bayard,' exclaimed Bessie, as soon as she could 
 recover from her consternation, ' she has heard every word !' 
 
 ' She must have done so,' said Bayard, in a tone which indi 
 cated his regret. 
 
 The good-natured Bessie forbore to reproach him, though 
 feeling scarcely less grieved than Mabel herself. She ex 
 perienced a partial triumph, however, when the young man, 
 after following with his eyes the object of his remarks, and 
 watching the quick blood mount to her temples, turned to his 
 little niece and said, ' Bessie, she has convinced me, where you 
 have failed. I yield the point, and stand convicted ; she is not 
 an iceberg.' 
 
 It was the concession of a candid, truth-loving mind, but 
 Mabel, unfortunately, could not have the benefit of it, and 
 was left, as many have been under like circumstances, to the 
 stinging consciousness that a burdened, humiliated, anxious 
 heart, while seeking- to hide its oppressive secrets from the un- 
 sympathising eye of the world, too frequently lays itself open 
 to misconstruction and undeserved reproach. But it was some 
 consolation to believe, that, except in one unguarded moment, 
 she had successfully feigned a composure which she did not 
 feel, and this thought once more restoring her to apparent 
 calmness, she continued to measure out her words and smiles, 
 which Bayard, with no little discrimination, had discovered to 
 be artificial and forced. It was a relief, however, when music 
 was proposed, and all save the performers were permitted to 
 relapse into silence. 
 
 There were several fine voices among the company, and 
 
252 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 some popular glees being called for, Mabel readily consented 
 to preside at the piano, and furnish the accompaniment, a 
 difficult accomplishment for one who does not take part in the 
 singing ; but, although diffident in respect to her vocal powers, 
 she had an exquisite ear for music, and this had always at 
 school been her disinterested province. 
 
 Satisfied with an office which, to one so familiar with it, 
 involved little more than a mechanical effort, and soothed and 
 cheered by the sound of Harry's fine bass voice, which she 
 rejoiced to hear, lending depth to the song, she played a long 
 time without consciousness of fatigue, and finally received, 
 with much of her natural sweetness and grace, the thanks of 
 the group who were assembled around the piano. She still 
 occupied the music-stool, and was engaged in conversation 
 with the senior Mr. Bloodgood, who stood beside her, when 
 she suddenly became conscious that some one was waiting to 
 take her place at the instrument, and looking quickly up, she 
 recognized the individual, who, a little while ago, had made 
 her the subject of his criticism. 
 
 Perhaps, as she promptly vacated the place and withdrew 
 outside the circle, he was reminded of the dread he had ex 
 pressed of her vicinity. If so, however, it must have been his 
 'conscience rather than her manner which so reminded him, for 
 she returned his gentlemanly acknowledgment of her rising 
 with a graceful courtesy, and there was nothing marked or 
 rude in her quietly retreating to a distance. 
 
 As the instrument was so situated that the performer faced 
 the company, and she dreaded the embarrassment of again 
 meeting his eye, she purposely strolled through the back 
 parlour into the library, leaning on the arm of her obliging 
 host, who was soon after summoned away by a servant. Thus 
 left alone among strangers, she could not resist listening with 
 pleasure to the slow, impressive, and beautiful symphony 
 which proceeded from the piano, and was inwardly comment 
 ing on the taste and skill of the performer, when he suddenly 
 commenced singing; and, as a lull among the company 
 immediately succeeded, the rich, mellow notes of his voice fell 
 upon her ear, the effect seemingly unmarred by distance. 
 
 Never before had Mabel heard such music. It was true her 
 enjoyment of the art had been limited, but a far wider expe 
 rience might well have failed to awaken such impressions as 
 thosa which were inspired by the strains of this gifted singer. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 253 
 
 His voice, of great natural breadth and sweetness, possessed, 
 also, the advantage of the highest cultivation, and these qua 
 lities were enhanced and their effect heightened in no slight 
 degree by the purity of his enunciation and the expressive 
 power and pathos which he imparted to the words. It was 
 eloquence married unto harmony. He now sang, by request, 
 a glorious air from Rossini's ' Stabat Mater,' and the effect of 
 the sublime music was evident in the hush which prevailed 
 throughout the rooms, and the strained and eager attention of 
 those even who were not ordinarily susceptible to emotion from 
 a similar source. Though the clear, full notes penetrated 
 through all the lower apartments of the house, Mabel found 
 herself instinctively drawn to the direction whence they pro 
 ceeded, as if to make sure that they did not have their source 
 in some] illusion of the senses, and, half forgetting, wholly 
 disregarding her previous desire to avoid the presence of the 
 young stranger, she noiselessly, but unhesitatingly glided 
 through the hall and stationed herself among a little throng 
 of listeners, in the doorway opposite the piano. She had not 
 dared to scan his face attentively before ; now she could not 
 resist doing so, nor could she fail to acknowledge that it was a 
 countenance worthy of the inspired song a countenance in 
 which gentleness and force were most harmoniously blended. 
 He might have been five-and-twenty years of age, though the 
 freshness and fairness of his complexion gave him a more 
 youthful appearance. He wore no beard, and his light, wavy 
 hair was tossed back in some careless fashion, revealing a 
 finely-developed and intellectual brow ; his full, blue eye was 
 calm, clear, and truthful, and all his features were indicative 
 of resolution and energy. His unusual heighth and breadth 
 of figure, his well-expanded chest, and firm, erect position, 
 were all significant, moreover, of physical power and endur 
 ance : in short, his whole appearance might be pronounced 
 typical of those ancient northern races, noted both for beauty 
 and hardihood. In proof of this, Mabel was forcibly reminded 
 by his striking exterior, of a picture she had once seen repre 
 senting some youthful Norsemen of the times of Hengist and 
 Horsa, to one figure] in which group she detected in him a 
 marked resemblance. 
 
 It added not a little to the effect produced by his music that 
 he sang with no apparent effort, and seemed quite unconscious 
 of the impression produced upon his audience, while his 
 
254 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 countenance showed how deeply he felt the power of the 
 solemn words he had been uttering 1 ; and when he at length 
 finished and rose from his seat amid the breathless silence of 
 the assembly, there was not the slightest evidence of triumph 
 in his manner ; but receiving without affectation the plaudits 
 of those in his neighbourhood, and declining to reseat himself 
 at the instrument, he entered, with respectful earnestness, 
 into conversation with Mrs. Bloodgood's father. The latter, 
 an extremely elderly gentleman, appeared to be questioning 
 him. with interest, and listening with attention to his animated 
 replies ; while the youngest child of the household, who had 
 leaned against him, looking up in his face while he sang, 
 continued in the same trusting attitude, and suffered him to 
 toss her silken curls with his hand ; his relation to both being 
 significant of his rare and beautiful character; for noble firm 
 ness of heart and will was in him so united with gentle and 
 cheerful benignity, that he was one whom old men might re 
 verence, and little children love. 
 
 Though Mabel might be excused for terming the neighbour 
 hood of L. a country district, in comparison with New York, 
 Mrs. Ridgway was right in asserting that no one could enter 
 tain company more elegantly than their Member of Congress ; 
 and she might also have added, with truth, that no city could 
 furnish a choicer collection of guests than would be sure "to 
 assemble at his house. All the most cultivated families for 
 ten miles around were represented; men of political note were 
 present from a still greater distance ; and pretty girls and gay 
 young collegians made the time pass merrily while no pains 
 were spared on the part of the host to render the occasion a 
 memorable one. The beautifully-decorated supper-room had 
 been thrown open from the commencement of the evening ; 
 and from the moment supper was announced until the company 
 left the house, it was more or less frequented. During the 
 latter portion of the time, however, it was almost exclusively 
 occupied by gentlemen, who, after devoting themselves assidu 
 ously to the ladies in the first instance, returned thither to 
 partake of the second course of hot oysters, and drink each 
 other's health with more freedom than they had ventured upon 
 in the presence of their mothers, daughters, and wives. It was 
 with trembling heart that, towards the close of the evening, 
 Mabel lingered near the door of this room, vainly hoping to 
 attract Harry's attention, and, under the plea of a long 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 255 
 
 drive, persuade him to return home. lie stood directly 
 opposite to her, but the supper-table was between them, and 
 in the increasing hilarity which prevailed she found it impos 
 sible to catch his eye, while every moment of delay rendered 
 it more doubtful whether he would regard a sister's summons. 
 Several of her acquaintances passed and repassed, and more 
 than one invited her to return to the drawing -room ; but she 
 persisted in declining, remarking that she found it cooler in 
 the hall. Now and then a loud peal of laughter rang through 
 her ears like a sudden pain, while the rapid uncorking of 
 fresh bottles of wine caused a nervous shudder to agitate her 
 whole frame. In the midst of a circle of thoughtless young 
 men stood Harry, no, not Harry, but the strange, unnatural 
 being that Harry became, when no longer master of himself. 
 The light joke was passing from lip to lip, and each had his 
 foaming glass raised awaiting the coming toast, when Bayard, 
 approaching with a quick step from the drawing-room, passed 
 Mabel without observing her, and stepping to the table took 
 from it a tumbler and a pitcher, which proved to be empty. 
 
 'Ah, Lewis!' exclaimed he, to a man-servant v\ho stood 
 near, and whom he evidently knew, ( there is no water here ; 
 I want a glass of water for Miss Bessie." 
 
 The servant took the pitcher to replenish it, and, during 
 the instant of delay which ensued, the young man stood gazing 
 at the convivial group opposite to him, with a serious, con 
 templative face, which had in it, however, less of contempt 
 than anxiety and commiseration. As the servant presently 
 handed him the glass of water, and he started to leave the 
 room, he was followed by two or three of the noisiest of the 
 young men, who, passing through the doorway at the same 
 moment as himself, were heard to say to one another, ' Fred 
 has bet with that young New York chap, as to which 
 will drink the most champagne, and Bloodgood is to stand 
 umpire. Fred has beat already ; New York is making a fool 
 of himself. I am going to hand my mother into her carriage 
 and then come back and see the sport.' At the same moment 
 the voice of Harry within the room boisterously exclaimed, 
 4 Look here, waiter ! bring in some more wine.' 
 
 In the hurry and excitement of their movements, one of the 
 reckless youths who passed through the door at the same 
 moment with t Bayard, roughly jostled the arm of the latter, 
 causing a large proportion of the water which he carried to 
 
256 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 be suddenly spilled on the dress and arm of Mabel, who 
 stood, as we have said, just within the hall. He turned 
 quickly to apologize for the accident ; but the words died on 
 his lips as he recognized her, and observed the expression of 
 her countenance, realizing as he did, at the same moment, the 
 painfulness of her situation. Her face was deathly pale, her 
 colourless lips were tightly compressed, and her hand nervously 
 clasped the railing of a hat-stand which was within her reach ; 
 while the intense suffering which was written on her features, 
 the earnest, pleading, and half-bewildered look with which she 
 met the eye, now fixed upon her, were such as to excite the 
 tenderest compassion in her behalf. 
 
 Unconscious as was this silent appeal on the part of the un 
 happy girl, Bayard was not the man to be insensible to it ; 
 and though she could not have explained the reason, she took 
 encouragement from his answering glance, although he passed 
 on without a word, without even an apology for spattering 
 her hand and arm with cold water ; a circumstance for 
 which she could almost have thanked him, since she felt as if 
 it had saved her from fainting. 
 
 A moment after, and the brave youth, who feared neither 
 censure nor ridicule in the cause of truth and humanity, had 
 passed through the parlour, disposed of his glass of water, and 
 returning through a side entrance, stood beside his friend 
 Bloodgood, in the spacious china closet, adjoining the supper- 
 room, where the latter had been superintending the unpacking 
 of a new supply of wine, and now held a bottle which he was 
 preparing to uncork. 
 
 ' Charlie !' exclaimed he, laying his hand on the shoulder 
 of his friend. 
 
 Young Bloodgood turned, coloured, and became confused, 
 as he met the calm, reproachful eye of Bayard, and answered 
 with some embarrassment 
 
 * Ah ! Bayard, you here ? You'll find a glass ' 
 
 ' No, no, Charlie,' continued Bayard, * you know that, is 
 not what I am here for. * Come,' added he, coaxingly, ' you 
 have proved your hospitality enough to-night ; let Lewis 
 keep this out of ^sight ; it is the greatest kindness you can do 
 those fellows.' 
 
 * Poh, nonsense ! Bayard,' replied the other ; ' we are 
 bound to entertain our guests ' 
 
 * But not to shame and ruin them. This plot to dis- 
 
.MABEL VAUGHAN. 257 
 
 grace a stranger here to-night is scandalous and ought not to 
 go on.' 
 
 ' It's a plot of his own contriving,' answered Bloodgood, 
 laughing. ' If a man will make a buffoon of himself, he 
 is the best judge of his own conduct and the only sufferer by 
 it/ 
 
 ' Oh, no, Charlie, you are mistaken,' responded Bayard, 
 earnestly. ' The greatest sufferer is that noble-looking, beau- 
 ful, unhappy girl, who stands in the doorway with a heart 
 bleeding for her poor brother. I will not see her proud head 
 brought low by his glaring folly and misconduct ; I will not 
 look on and not lend a word and a hand to save her from 
 mortification and him from scorn.' 
 
 A shout of merriment from the next room, and an impatient 
 cry of ' What has become of Bloodgood ?' now caused the 
 well-intentioned, but somewhat irresolute youth to endeavour 
 to parry his friend's arguments, and break away from him 
 altogether, with the lightly-uttered words, ' Ah, ah, Bayard ! 
 the girl has made a conquest of you, I see, and expects you to 
 run a tilt on her light-headed brother's account ; but you 
 cannot expect to make such a Don Quixote of me a man is 
 not responsible for his guests.' 
 
 6 Bloodgood,' exclaimed Bayard, in a tone which had 
 changed from simple earnestness to that of a just and 
 righteous indignation, ' I think a man is, to a great de 
 gree, responsible for his guests and to them. It is folly for 
 you to talk of any personal interest I can feel in either Miss 
 Vaughan or her brother ; I, who have never spoken a word 
 to either, and to-morrow leave this part of the country for as 
 many years, perhaps, as have passed since I was last an 
 inmate of your father's house. But one is a woman, and as 
 such has a claim on your tenderness, and the other is a fellow- 
 man, and is thus entitled to your sympathy. Charlie/ added 
 he, in a tone at once affectionate and firm, ' we have known 
 each other from boys, have passed our college life and vaca 
 tions in each other's company, and I have hoped most earn 
 estly to welcome you one day to my distant home ; but you 
 and I cannot clasp hands in friendship to-night, or meet as 
 friends in years to come, if you compel me to believe that 
 you can be indifferent to a fellow being's reputation and his 
 sister's peace.' 
 
 The young man thus addressed hung down his head for a 
 
 s 
 
258 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 moment, fumbled with the corkscrew, which he held in his 
 hand, then threw it on the closet shelf, and, with a candour 
 which did him infinite credit, caught the hand of Bayard and 
 shook it with hearty warmth, exclaiming, * Bayard, I cannot 
 afford to lose your friendship ; it has been the greatest bless 
 ing of my life ; this is not the first time you have saved me 
 from folly, if from nothing worse,' and energetically kicking 
 the champagne basket underneath the shelf, he locked his arm 
 in that of his friend, and they entered the supper-room 
 together, when Charlie, following Bayard's example, employed 
 himself with ready tact in dispersing the group awaiting him 
 around the supper-table. 
 
 ' No, no, Fred,' said he, shaking his head emphatically, 
 4 Vaughan has drunk enough, it is too bad. Boone, I be 
 lieve your sisters are wishing to say good-night to my mother. 
 Lander, will you come into the library and see the picture I 
 have had taken of my dog ?' 
 
 Bayard, in the meantime, after intimating to such as would 
 be likely to heed the suggestion, that the young ladies in the 
 drawing-room were wondering what had become of the gentle 
 men, obtained through Blood good an introduction to Harry, 
 and gradually contriving to withdraw him from his now scat 
 tering circle of associates, led the way to a little room where 
 coffee was served. As the maniac, or the wild beast, may 
 frequently be calmed and subdued by the power of a fixed eye 
 and a resolute will, so the unfortunate young man, dispossessed 
 at once of reason and self-government, yielded himself, with 
 out resistance, to the guidance and control of one who, by 
 a union of persuasion, tact, and unyielding purpose, contrived 
 to gain an immediate and complete mastery over his bewildered 
 and excited mind. With wandering eye and unsteady hand 
 he lifted to his lips the cup of coffee, which Bayard hoped 
 might in some degree serve as a restorative; and then, with a 
 strange mingling of submission and free-will, suffered the latter 
 to lock his arm within his, and conduct him through a low, 
 open casement, leading to the piazza which ran around the 
 house. Once only, as they left the lighted room behind them, 
 and stepped out into the cool night air, Harry manifested some 
 slight uneasiness, and a disposition to breakaway from his new 
 acquaintance ; but either the animated conversation, the firm 
 grasp, or the determined eye of Bayard, restrained him from, 
 this purpose ; for it was abandoned as suddenly as formed, and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAtf. 259 
 
 he made no further opposition to the effectual ascendancy of 
 superior physical and mental force. 
 
 From the moment when Bayard thus came to the rescue, 
 until that when he left the house with his self-assumed charge, 
 he was followed by the anxious gaze of the agitated and 
 trembling Mabel. She watched his face, his motions, under 
 stood his generous intentions at a glance, read the secret of 
 his power, witnessed his success, and at length, with a heart 
 relieved from an inexpressible weight, comforted herself with 
 the assurance, that, come what might, both she and her brother 
 were under safe and certain guardianship. 
 
 It was comparatively easy now to rally her self-possession, 
 to converse with the friends, who almost at the same moment 
 claimed her attention ; to accompany them to the drawing- 
 room, and once more resume her part in that social scene, 
 which to all but her seemed replete with gaiety and pleasure. 
 From the window near which she stood she could distinguish 
 two tall figures walking slowly up and down at a distance 
 beneath the trees. As if they had been the sentinels stationed 
 without some post of danger, she felt herself animated with 
 new confidence and hope, as at regular intervals they passed 
 and repassed within her sight. So long as they continued 
 thus to pace the grounds, Harry was saved from further ex 
 posure, arid herself from embarrassment and shame. This 
 knowledge afforded security for the present moment, and 
 beyond that she dared not think. 
 
 It was growing late, however. Some persons who lived at 
 a distance had left already, and there was a murmur among 
 the company, such as usually precedes departure. The figures 
 of the young men were no longer discernible in the dim moon 
 light, and Mabel began once more to experience a painful 
 uncertainty and dread, which reached its height, when, on 
 looking up, she saw Bayard standing just within the room, 
 unaccompanied by Harry, and apparently looking about him 
 in search of some one. Suddenly he caught her eye, and 
 instantly crossing the room, approached, and spoke in a voice 
 inaudible to any one but herself. 
 
 ' Miss Vaughan,' said he, as if certain of being understood, 
 ' your brother is engaged in giving some orders about his 
 horse ; if you will allow me the honour, I shall be happy to 
 accompany you to our hostess, and afterwards see you to your 
 carriage.* 
 
 s 2 
 
260 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 Unhesitatingly, and without a word, she took his offered 
 arm ; in some mechanical manner, she scarcely knew how, 
 said farewell to Mrs. Bloodgood, and with a hurried step ran 
 up stairs for her cloak. He awaited her in the hall on her 
 return, but so hasty had been her preparations for the drive, 
 that when they reached the door-step the carriage was not 
 brought up. By this time she shook and trembled violently ; 
 the night air was damp and chilly ; and Bayard, perceiving 
 her agitation to be such that she could scarcely stand, proposed 
 her re-entering the house for a few moments. 
 
 She shook her head to express her unwillingness to return, 
 but did not speak , and he, seeing that she trembled more and 
 more, unfolded a heavy shawl which she had brought down 
 stairs over her arm, and wrapped it around her. As he did 
 so, one or two hot tears fell upon his hand, while a shiver ran 
 through her whole frame, which was not the effect of cold. 
 Unwilling to leave her, and yet anxious concerning Harry 
 fearful, too, that others of the company would pour out upon 
 the door-steps, he begged her to take his arm again, and pro 
 posed that they should walk a short distance in the direction 
 of the stable, to learn the cause of the delay. 
 
 With the simple confidence of a child she did as he re 
 quested, and just at the rear of the house they encountered 
 Harry, who, engaged in an idle dispute with a groom on the 
 subject of his mare's harness, seemed quite unconscious that his 
 sister was awaiting his movements. Mad Sallie, meanwhile, 
 irritated and unmanageable beyond her wont, was starting from 
 side to side, and now and them plunging furiously forward. 
 
 Bayard's presence and prompt interference soon restored 
 harmony, however. Both Harry and the groom were ready 
 to submit their difference to him, and even Mad Sallie was 
 soothed into quietness by his voice and hand, as he spoke 
 gently to her and stroked her mane while he critically exa 
 mined every point of the harness. * Do not be afraid,' said 
 he in a low voice, as he handed Mabel into the light vehicle ; 
 ' I am confident you will reach town in safety.' He drew 
 back as he ceased speaking, for Harry, who was already 
 seated in the carriage, had taken up the reins and now incau 
 tiously snapped his whip. Mad Sallie started, reared, plunged 
 forward, then backed for a pace or two, and finally dashed off 
 at full speed. The groom held up his lantern once more to 
 see that all was right, and as the carriage swept rapidly round 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN, 261 
 
 the corner of the house, the glare fell full on the face of 
 Mabel, who had lifted her hitherto bowed head, and turned 
 to bestow a parting glance on her own and her brother's 
 benefactor. 
 
 How much of grief and how much of gratitude may be 
 revealed in a single look ! Had Bayard's humane and ge 
 nerous deed involved a tenfold effort, and demanded a tenfold 
 sacrifice, his noble heart would have asked no higher reward 
 than the glow of deep, fervent, and grateful feeling which 
 flashed out from that pale, tearful, sorrow-struck face, turned 
 towards him for an instant, and then borne away into the 
 darkness. 
 
 ' Only by bearing each other's burdens can we read the 
 secrets of each other's hearts,' thought he, as he stood listening 
 until the carriage had passed in safety through the gateway at 
 the end of the avenue. ' How strangely did I misjudge and 
 wrong that suffering girl !' 
 
 His mental recantation was interrupted by the blunt voice 
 of the Irish groom. c Go it, yer young rascal.' exclaimed 
 the man, i and the blessed angel beside ye be the savin' o' yer 
 bones.' 
 
 * Bring up my horse as quick as you can, Patrick,' said 
 Bayard, turning abruptly to the fellow, who was starting in 
 the direction of the stable. 
 
 ' Sure, Misther Bayard, ye'll not be afther goin' to L. to 
 night ?' 
 
 ' Yes, I have concluded to sleep at the hotel there ; and, 
 Patrick, I shall be much obliged to you if you will bring my 
 luggage over in the morning in season for the early train. I 
 will speak to Mr. Charles about it,' and so saying he hastened 
 into the house. 
 
 Mabel's first sensations as she drove down the avenue and 
 gained the open road, were those only of indescribable relief 
 and deliverance from dreaded danger. But though her bro 
 ther was rescued from further disgrace, no trifling peril of a 
 far different nature awaited them both. She could not dis 
 guise from herself the fact that Harry was incapable of ma 
 naging his spirited steed, or of distinguishing the road, the 
 intricacy of which she well remembered. The night was 
 dark ; there was more than one bridge to be crossed, while, at 
 a certain point, their way wound along the verge of a preci 
 pitous bank, and was protected only by a slender railing. 
 
262 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Fortunately, for the first mile or two the road was wide and 
 unencumbered, so that the rapid pace at which they started 
 was maintained for a while without disaster of any kind. 
 Then Harry, who had been boisterous and talkative, relapsed 
 into silence, slackened his reins, and suffered the mare to fall 
 into a walk. They proceeded at this rate for some little dis 
 tance, and were just approaching a point where the road 
 branched, when Harry's head sank upon Mabel's shoulder, 
 and she perceived that he had fallen asleep. Tremblingly she 
 caught the reins as they dropped from his powerless hands, and 
 suffering him to retain his recumbent posture, assumed for the 
 first time, and under the most painful circumstances, the 
 responsible office that had thus devolved upon her. 
 
 At this crisis she heard the welcome sound of horses' hoofs, 
 and although in the darkness she could distinguish nothing 
 with certainty, she soon became convinced that for her all 
 danger was past. A horseman soon overtook them, and then 
 slackening the pace at which he rode, silently performed for 
 the remainder of the drive the combined duties of protector, 
 guide, and friend. At every fork in the road he led the way, 
 and Mad Sallie instinctively followed. At every point of dan 
 ger he kept perseveringly at the animal's side, and more than 
 once Mabel was conscious that he led her by the rein. Now 
 in advance and now in the rear, sometimes quite obscured in 
 the darkness, and again dimly discerned as he loitered on the 
 brow of a hill, but always near enough for the sound of his 
 horse's feet to be distinctly audible, he might have been deemed 
 an accidental traveller on the road, but for the watchful and 
 efficient care which he exercised over his voluntarily assumed 
 charge. It was a strange situation for a young and delicately- 
 reared girl ; supporting with one arm the sleeping form of 
 him who should have been her natural protector, grasping with 
 her white-gloved and trembling hand the reins which ordinarily 
 she would not have dared to touch, and dependent in the dark 
 ness of midnight and the solitude of the lonely road, upon the 
 guardianship of a stranger. Such was the confidence, however, 
 with which Bayard had inspired her, that from the moment 
 when she instinctively realized the presence of one whom in 
 the obscurity she could not otherwise recognise, she experienced 
 an undoubted sense of security, and felt the force of his pro 
 phetic assurance, that there was no cause for fear. Not until 
 they gained the partially lit streets of the town did he fail to 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 263 
 
 $aH 
 
 keep within her hearing. As they rattled over the pavements 
 of the principal thoroughfare, however, the sound of his horse's 
 feet in the rear gradually became more and more indistinct ; 
 and Mabel, as she now realized her position more fully by the 
 light of the street lamps, and attempted to rouse her sleeping 
 brother, was almost tempted to believe that she herself had 
 been under the influence of a strange, wild dream, and that 
 their fancied outrider was merely an hallucination of the senses. 
 It was no easy task to arouse Harry's slumbering faculties, 
 and even after they had reached their aunt's door in safetv, 
 Mabel hesitated and feared to alight, lest he should prove 
 incapable of guiding Mad Sallie to her stable at some distance 
 down the street. 
 
 Trusting partly to the creature's instinct, and encouraged by 
 some signs of renewed vivacity and intelligence in Harry, who 
 stretched himself energetically, declared it was a deuced bore 
 to ride so far at night, and pettishly shook the reins which he 
 had snatched from her hand, she stepped, unassisted and at 
 some risk, upon the footpath, and stood watching him as he 
 continued on his way. At this moment her doubts, if such 
 actually existed, concerning the reality of their midnight 
 escort were at once dispersed, for as she lingered anxiously in 
 the gate-way, looking down the street, he rode suddenly past 
 her, and disappeared in the direction Harry had taken. Nor 
 was his identity with Bayard any less evident, when, a half- 
 hour later, she cautiously opened the door of her aunt's house 
 to admit her recreant brother, and, as he staggered in, the 
 light shone full on the retreating figure of one who, from first 
 to last, had proved himself a friend. 
 
 It mattered not to Mabel that he had misunderstood and 
 falsely interpreted her character. On the contrary, it but 
 added to the heroism of his conduct, that it admitted of no 
 selfish construction, that it was as disinterested as it was manly 
 and humane. He had freely expressed, in her hearing, his 
 unflattering opinion of herself, and of Harry he might almost 
 believe the worst, and yet to both he had acted a Christian 
 part. Mabel was not ungrateful for^his kindness to the beauty 
 and the belle, the general admiration of whom he did not pro 
 fess to share, but it was not for this that she most fervently 
 thanked and blessed him. It was for the benefit conferred on 
 Harry, and, through him, on her. It was because he alone of 
 
264 MABEL VAUGBAN. 
 
 all the world had lent a willing and a helping hand to \\er 
 sinking, sunken brother. 
 
 We rejoice and triumph when the world bestows its homage 
 and its smiles upon our great, our noble, and our virtuous be 
 loved ; but the deeper fountains of the heart are stirred when 
 a hand is stretched out in sympathy and in aid to our poor, our 
 fallen, and our sinful ones. We feel that the honour paid to 
 worth is a sentiment which ennobles humanity ; but the voice 
 that whispers of hope to the fallen is more than half divine. 
 Thus, the emotion which Bayard had awakened in Mabel was 
 that of reverent gratitude, and was treasured in after years as 
 a sacred memory. They had met, as it were, on one of the 
 cross roads of life ; she dimly comprehended that on the mor 
 row he was to depart into some unknown but distant exile ; she 
 had parted from him without a word of acknowledgment or 
 of thanks. Still she felt that for his service to virtue and hu 
 manity he would never go unrewarded, and on bended knee, 
 in the silence of the night, she prayed that the God of Heaven 
 might be with him in his wanderings, arid that He might mi 
 nister to him in his hour of need, who has said of the simplest 
 deed of charity, * Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
 least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.' 
 
( 265 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 
 
 Something was there, that, through the lingering night, 
 Outwatches patiently the taper's light ; 
 Something that faints not through the day's distress, 
 That fears not toil, that knows not weariness. 
 
 MRS. HEMAXS. 
 
 MRS. RIDGWAY was very indignant the next morning, when, 
 in reply to her pointed questions, Mabel assured her that she 
 had not been introduced to the distinguished guest of Mrs. 
 Bloodgood, whom she supposed, however, to be a Mr. Bayard, 
 such an individual having been present. So much was the 
 ambitious aunt piqued at this neglect, that she effectually re 
 strained her curiosity, and forbore making any inquiries of her 
 neighbours concerning the stranger, lest she should be com 
 pelled to acknowledge that her niece had not made his acquaint 
 ance ; and thus, much to Mabel's relief, he was not again 
 referred to in her presence. 
 
 But the vexation which this circumstance occasioned to Mrs. 
 Ridgway was slight in comparison with the resentment she felt 
 against her nephew, when, in the course of the day, she heard 
 from Hannah, her cook, who had it from Mrs. Paradox's 
 parlour girl, who had it from Mr. Bloodgood's man, Pal rick, 
 that ' the young New York chap, who was a-stayin' at the 
 widder Ridgway's, had been pretty considerable sprung the 
 previous night, and must have got back to town by a miracle, 
 with his dragon of a baste.' 
 
 So long as Harry maintained the position of a gentleman, and 
 was courted throughout the vicinity as a foreign-bred youth, 
 of wealth, accomplishments, and spirit, Mrs. Ridgway, prudent 
 as she was in her own affairs, cared not how thoughtlessly lie 
 idled away his time, or how recklessly he squandered his 
 father's money. The moment, however, that he overstepped 
 
266 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 the outermost limits of that decorum which society enjoins, her 
 worldly-wise sagacity took alarm ; and now that she heard 
 his name lightly used even by servants, she began to appre 
 hend that instead of an honour, he would prove a cause of dis 
 credit and disgrace to her house. She was not one to be 
 restrained by motives of delicacy from expressing, in Mabel's 
 hearing-, her contempt and disgust at what she termed this 
 scandalous exposure ; nor did she hesitate to acquaint Harry, 
 by the broadest hints and inuendoes, with her knowledge of the 
 shameful events of the evening, which she declared to be 
 common talk, and against which she inveighed as reflecting 
 not only upon the delinquent, but upon all who had the mis 
 fortune to be connected with him. 
 
 Whatever indifference Harry might feel or feign to these 
 home thrusts and sarcasms, with which he was constantly as 
 sailed, they were the cause of the most poignant suffering to 
 Mabel, and the more so as she plainly saw that although 
 apparently listened to by Harry in dogged unconcern, they 
 co-operated with other circumstances in irritating and driving 
 him to desperation. 
 
 Conscious that he had disgraced himself in the estimation of 
 the respectable portion of the community, feeling it little less 
 than an insult to the venerable Judge Paradox to present him 
 self in the office, where he was but a nominal student, and 
 driven from his aunt's house by her worse than useless invec 
 tives, he now gave himself wholly up to a life of excitement, 
 and sought only those associates among whom he was sure to 
 find a ready welcome. Thus, he was sometimes absent for 
 days together; the time of his return was always uncertain; 
 and although his departure was invariably the signal for Mrs. 
 Ridgway to denounce his idle and reckless habits, the un 
 gracious reception which she gave him after every absence, 
 was little calculated to render his excursions from home less 
 frequent or protracted. 
 
 The rooms which he had expected to occupy were in a new 
 building, not yet completed. The work might, perhaps, have 
 been hastened, but neither he nor his aunt cared to press the 
 point, for it was now generally conceded that Harry's residence 
 in L. was not destined to be permanent. Nothing, how 
 ever, had been heard from Mr. Vaughan with reference to the 
 probable time of his return, and, although the presence of his 
 children in Mrs. Ridg\vay's house was fast becoming burden- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 267 
 
 some, there seemed no other alternative than for them to re 
 main there for the present. 
 
 * Do go t bed, child ! Dear me, you'll make yourself quite 
 ill !' Aunt Sabiah would anxiously exclaim, when, creeping 
 cautiously into Mabel's room at the midnight hour, she would 
 find the faithful sister watching at the window for her brother's 
 return. 
 
 But Mabel would gently shake her head in reply to her 
 aunt's expostulations, and say, ' Oh no, aunt ; I am not tired. 
 I could not sleep.' 
 
 ' There isn't one chance in ten that he'll come home to-night,' 
 Sabiah would, perhaps, rejoin. ' You're getting pale and miser 
 able, and what's the use, after all ?' 
 
 ' 1 feel anxious,' was sure to be the answer. ' He'll come 
 soon, I think,' and with a few persuasive words, Sabiah would 
 be coaxed back to bed, and Mabel would persist in her lonely 
 vigils. 
 
 It was a principle with Mrs. Ridgway that her doors should 
 be locked at ten o'clock precisely, a rule which had been 
 occasionally infringed during the few weeks succeeding the 
 arrival of her young visitors, but which had been rigidly en 
 forced from the time of her becoming acquainted with Harry's 
 irregularities. Thus, it was only by the most unwearied watch 
 fulness that Mabel could ensure her brother's ready admittance ; 
 and who shall tell how often the wanderer was beguiled back 
 by the certainty that, come at what hour he might, whether 
 of the night or day, the same gentle voice which had lamented 
 his departure, would greet him at his return, and the same 
 sweet face which had anxiously watched him as he went, would 
 welcome him with a smile, mournful, perhaps, but always 
 kind ? 
 
 All the fatigues and dissipations of the previous winter had 
 not so weighed upon Mabel's frame and exhausted her strength, 
 as did these prolonged and midnight vigils, when, with strain 
 ing eye and ear, she thus waited and hoped and prayed. But 
 though the colour was each day fading from her cheek, and 
 her step had lost its elasticity, she gained, in these lonely com- 
 munings with God and her own heart, a power which is born 
 of endurance, and a strength which comes only through suffer 
 ing. With the world and its bewildering sounds shut out, and 
 the page of duty open before her, she was patiently learning 
 that great lesson of life which is the key to all the rest ; and 
 
268 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 in humble forgetful ness of self, and serene reliance on heavenly 
 aid, she was gradually divining that precious secret which had 
 rendered Rosy's little life a blessed ministry. 
 
 Her willingness both to do and to suffer was soon put to the 
 very test of which she had long had a foreshadowing and 
 presentiment. She was sitting one moonlight night at her 
 accustomed window, which commanded a view of the street, 
 and, with her tired head resting on her hand, was listening for 
 the familiar sounds which betokened Harry's return, when she 
 was startled by a vehicle, which was none of his, approaching 
 her aunt's door, and the strange, hurried voices, significant 
 motions, and words of caution and alarm which succeeded, 
 served at once to confirm the cruel conviction which had al 
 ready flashed upon her. The scene was precisely such as Her 
 imagination had long since conjured up. Mad Sallie had but 
 executed the destructive work which might well have been 
 anticipated from a refractory beast driven by a drunken man, 
 and Harry was brought home insensible, perhaps already 
 bereft of life. 
 
 ' Don't be scared ; I guess he'll come to,' said a rough but 
 kindly voice, as Mabel met, at the door, the benevolent farmer 
 and his sturdy sons, who were bearing in their heavy burden. 
 
 ' Oh, he is dead !' exclaimed she, in a hollow whisper, as 
 she fixed her eyes with a rigid stare upon her brother's ghastly 
 countenance. 
 
 ' No, no, not a bit of it ; don't you believe any such thing/ 
 said the countryman, as having laid the helpless form of the 
 young man on the hall sofa, he took a silk handkerchief from 
 his hat and wiped his heated brow. Then, seeing that Mabel 
 stood like one turned to stone, watching his face as if to read 
 in it her brother's fate, he went on to state in earnest terms his 
 belief that the young fellow was only stunned ; that he had 
 spoken since they lifted him from the ground ; that he appeared 
 to have no broken bones ; that he had been on a bit of spree 
 and was pretty well corned ; no offence to the young woman 
 he hoped she wasn't a near relation of the poor dog whose 
 horse, devil of a beast as it was, seemed to have the most 
 sense of the two ; i never you mind,' added he, in a truly 
 fatherly tone, patting with his rough hand the head of MabeJ, 
 who now leaned over Harry's prostrate form, listening to his 
 feeble but regular breathing * he's got a lesson that's better'n 
 preachin', p'r'aps 't'll be the savin' on him, soul and body.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 269 
 
 1 Bring him up stairs,' ejaculated Mabel, in a low, implor 
 ing voice ; her subdued tones proving, even at this exciting 
 moment, the force of that habit of watchful stillness with 
 which, night after night, she had evaded her aunt Ridgway's 
 hearing. 
 
 The precaution was unnecessary now, however. The house 
 was by this time fully aroused, and poor Harry's bearers were 
 met on the staircase by its bustling and voluble mistress, who, 
 but for the old farmer's obstinate resistance, would have com 
 pelled them to pause then and there, and acquaint her with 
 every circumstance of the accident, before they were suffered 
 to proceed with their burden. The bustle and confusion which 
 ensued, were such as usually attend similar events in a house 
 hold, save that in this instance they were aggravated by the 
 irritation and annoyance which succeeded Mrs. Ridgway's first 
 outburst of astonishment and alarm. Her earliest impulse 
 was, as we have said, to possess herself of every particular ; 
 her next, to rid the house of strangers ; and her last thought 
 seeme'd to be of the poor sufferer, over whom Mabel hung, in 
 an agony of suspense, while Sabiah wrung her hands, groane>., 
 and anxiously asked herself * How will sister Margaret put 
 up with this new trouble ?' Mabel, though the most afflicted, 
 was the only one of the household who had the presence of 
 mind to send for a physician or attempt to apply restoratives ; 
 and her simple efforts, unavailing as they were, served to calm 
 her mind and render her capable of affording that assistance 
 which the medical man required on his arrival. While Sabiah 
 gave up to the despair which had taken possession of her, and 
 while Mrs. Ridgway examined her parlour carpet to discover 
 whether it had been stepped on by dirty feet, and looked into 
 the kitchen cupboards to make sure that no stragglers had taken 
 advantage of the confusion to conceal themselves there, Mabel 
 held the lamp for the doctor, furnished him with bandages and 
 other necessary articles, replied to all his questions, and re 
 ceived at last the comforting assurance that, except some 
 severe bruises and a slight cut on the back of the head, there 
 was no perceptible injury, and that nothing serious need be 
 apprehended, unless fever supervened. 
 
 * Cannot you do something to restore him to consciousness T 
 she anxiously asked. 
 
 The doctor shook his head. * I cannot judge/ said he, 
 ' how much his present condition is to be attributed to the ac- 
 
270 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 cident, and how much to previous excitement of the brain. 
 I can tell better to-morrow/ 
 
 Morning, however, brought no change for the better, and 
 before night the fever, which had been the chief cause of ap 
 prehension, set in. Now followed days and weeks of continued 
 nursing, anxiety, and suspense, during which Mabel was the 
 constant and unwearied attendant at the bedside of her brother. 
 As the stupor, in which he had lain for some hours, gave place 
 to feverish excitement, he manifested, in no measured terms, 
 his preference for his sister's presence and care ; barely toler 
 ating his aunt Sabiah, and with fierce imprecations and threats 
 driving Mrs. Ridgway from the room whenever she ventured 
 to set her foot within the door. From Mabel's hand only 
 would he receive the cooling draught, and to her alone was he 
 gentle and submissive. 
 
 The wild words of delirium would die upon his lips as his 
 eye met her loving glance, and his excited gestures would 
 often give place to quiet and repose when he felt the pres 
 sure of her soft hand on his burning temples. Sometimes, as 
 she sat patiently by his side through the long watches of the 
 night, he would reveal to her in measured whispers the confes 
 sion of his past folly, extravagance, and dissipation ; gazing 
 into her face meanwhile with a holy awe, as if he believed her 
 some angel messenger sent thither to gather up the burden 
 some secrets which lay upon his conscience. A less excited 
 imagination, indeed, might almost have mistaken her for an 
 apparition, as, clothed in a long white wrapper, and becoming 
 each day more pale and worn, she moved noiselessly about the 
 darkened chamber, anticipating the sufferer's slightest want, 
 and patiently soothing his restlessness. 
 
 Her aunt Margaret, exasperated by the abuse with which 
 Harry assailed her, washed her hands, as she said, of all 
 responsibility in regard to him, and both by her own indignant 
 and unaccommodating spirit, and by the strict orders which 
 she gave her servants, contrived to double Mabel's cares and 
 anxieties, and impress upon her a most painful sense of the 
 difficulties which sickness made in a household. Poor Sabiah, 
 divided between love for Mabel and dread of her sister's anger, 
 hovered stealthily in the vicinity of Harry's room, haunted the 
 staircase and passages, and patiently strove to relieve her 
 niece's weariness ; but in her perturbed state of feeling, she 
 effected but little in Mabel's favour, and brought down on her 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 271 
 
 own head a torrent of reproaches from Mrs. Ridgway, who, 
 having no other hearer, took every opportunity of expressing 
 to Sabiah a piece of her mind, and declaring that she had no 
 idea of being imposed upon by her relations. 
 
 But, although Mabel's task was at once solitary and trying, 
 it had its alleviations. It was far better to see Harry lying 
 there in his helplessness, than to picture him amid scenes of 
 folly and vice ; and in the gentle ministries of affection her 
 own bruised and wounded spirit found a healing balm, while 
 in the hearts of both, a silent influence was at work which 
 hallowed those lonely hours, and made that quiet chamber the 
 nursery of blessed and immortal fruits. 
 
 It was about three weeks after the accident, and at the dim 
 hour of twilight, when Mabel, believing her brother to have 
 fallen asleep, threw herself on her knees beside him, arid 
 remained awhile lost in meditation and prayer. It had been 
 to her a day of no ordinary suspense. The doctor pronounced 
 his patient to be nearly free from fever, declared that the 
 crisis was past, and gave her encouragement that he would 
 soon be well. This assurance had, however, failed to satisfy 
 her. It was true that Harry now slept quietly, breathed with 
 ease, and took submissively the nourishment that was offered 
 him. Still she felt that there was something about him 
 unnatural and strange. Since he ceased his incoherent 
 ravings, he had not been heard to utter a syllable; and 
 although she was conscious that he watched her continually, 
 he made no reply to her gentle inquiries, and, when she 
 approached him, turned away his head, closed his eyes, and 
 remained in one position for hours. Could his intellect have 
 become dimmed ? did he cherish bitter thoughts toward her ? 
 or what was the cloud which had thus settled upon him ? 
 
 Exhausted by harrowing doubts and fears, she had rested a 
 long time with her face shrouded in the bed-clothes, and 
 her soul laid bare to the all-seeing Father, when a hand 
 was gently laid upon her head, and a faint, broken voice, 
 murmured, 'Mabel.' She looked hastily up, and met the 
 earnest, tearful gaze of Harry, fixed full and eagerly upon her. 
 The tender glance, and penitent tones of the chastened spirit 
 were not to be mistaken ; he stretched out both his feeble 
 arms, and, with a cry of joy, she fell upon his bosom, and 
 they wept together. As in the days of their innocent child 
 hood, when nestled on one pillow, they had mourned over 
 
272 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 their little griefs, and soothed each other's little sorrows, so 
 now, with cheek pressed to cheek, every shadow of past 
 estrangement was washed away in a soft rain of tears, while 
 many a cherished hope for the future dawned amid that 
 refreshing dew of sympathy. Not a word was spoken, not an 
 explanatory phrase was breathed by either ; nor were they 
 needed. In that moment of the heart's recognition, that out 
 pouring of mutual confidence and restored affection, Mabel 
 felt herself repaid for every trial, every sacrifice, every suffer 
 ing. She had watched, and waited, and hoped, and prayed. 
 In spite of weariness, alienation, disgrace, and sin, led by 
 patience, fortitude, and holy love, she had sought and found 
 her brother. 
 
( 273 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 From the sun's might, away may the calm planet rove ? 
 How easy, then, for man to wander from God's love ! 
 Yet from each circle's point to the centre lies a track ; 
 And there's a way to God from furthest error back. 
 
 KUCKERT. 
 
 ' HARRY, I promised to give you these as soon as you were 
 well enough. Perhaps you will feel able to look them over 
 to-day,' said Mabel, and she put a little bundle of papers into 
 her brother's hand and hastily left the room. 
 
 The young man, pale and thin from the effects of his recent 
 illness, but so far recovered as to be seated in an arm-chair at 
 a table from which he had been breakfasting, unfolded the 
 papers one by one, examined their contents, and, with an air 
 of mingled thoughtfulness and shame, spread them out before 
 him. They were bills of various amounts, including many 
 contracted under circumstances of which he had no recollec 
 tion, and nearly all of a nature calculated to make a sober man 
 blush at his own folly and extravagance : long accounts at a 
 neighbouring hotel for dinners and suppers, shared by un 
 worthy and ungrateful associates ; petty debts contracted at 
 most of the places of resort and entertainment for a dozen miles 
 around; heavy charges at stable-keepers' and blacksmiths' ; and 
 an alarming balance in favour of an unprincipled horse-jockey 
 with whom he had had frequent dealings. During the hour 
 that Mabel purposely continued absent from the room, Harry 
 sat studying these written records of his own disgrace, anxiously 
 calculating the extent of his creditors' demands, and revolving 
 with still deeper bitterness the far heavier account which lay 
 upon his conscience. 
 
 When she at length returned, he was systematically filing 
 the bills and noting the sum of each on a slip of paper. 
 ' Mabel/ said he, looking up as she entered, * will you write a 
 
 T 
 
274 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 note for me to young Bloodgood ? My hand is not quite 
 steady yet, and I want to ask him to call and see me this 
 evening, if convenient.' 
 
 Mabel did as she was requested, and Charlie responded to 
 the summons by presenting himself at an early hour. Harry, 
 who had not yet been below stairs, received him in his own 
 room ; and so earnest and prolonged was the conversation 
 between them, that Mabel, as she sat in the adjoining 1 cham 
 ber, became fearful that her brother would be over-fatigued, 
 and listened impatiently for the visitor's departure. ' Good 
 bye, Vaughan,' he was at length heard to say, as he left the 
 room and lingered a moment in the passage-way. * I will see 
 you again in a day or two. There will be no trouble in dis 
 posing of the greys. I know of one or two persons who 
 would take them and the phaeton oft' your hands at any mo 
 ment. Mad Sallie will bring a better price perhaps in the 
 city, but don't give yourself any uneasiness about the business 
 : I'll attend to it with pleasure. I am glad to find you so 
 much better.' 
 
 Later in the evening, when Mabel was sitting beside her 
 brother, arid there had been a short silence between them, 
 Harry exclaimed, in a tone of deep and mournful feeling, 
 * Mabel, do you believe in such a thing as repentance ?' 
 
 ' O, Harry,' she promptly replied, ' what hope would there 
 be for any of us if we were cut oft' from that blessed refuge ?' 
 
 ' But I do not mean any common sorrow for a common 
 fault ; do you believe in a repentance broad and deep enough 
 to cover such a record of folly as that ?' and he pointed to 
 the roll of bills ' or to wipe out such a sense of shame and 
 sin as is written here ?' and he placed his hand upon his heart. 
 
 i Do not doubt it for a moment, dear Harry,' replied Mabel, 
 in a tone of affectionate encouragement. ' If you but hate 
 your sins, they have lost their power over you ; you will no 
 longer feel the temptation. Yet, dearest Harry, do not trust 
 to your own strength; your present feelings may not last, 
 and your good resolutions may fail, if you rely upon yourself 
 alone.' 
 
 4 Oh, the sting of memory !' exclaimed Harry, with bitter 
 ness ; ' the burning sting of remorse ! Can that ever be rooted 
 out?' 
 
 ' It may become the spur to a higher virtue than we ever 
 dreamed of before. Harry !' she continued, her voice half 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 275 
 
 choked with sobs, and her face hid upon his shoulder, ' I 
 know, for I have felt it. Nothing has ever so fortified me 
 against my own weak and selfish indulgence as the remorse 
 and penitence with which I now look back upon a wasted, 
 misspent, and dissipated winter.' 
 
 i You !' responded Harry, fondly caressing her, for she was 
 striving in vain to repress her tears ; * dear child I What do 
 you know of misspent and dissipated time ? You shame me 
 more than ever when you try to lighten my load by pretending 
 to share it.' 
 
 ' It is no pretence, Harry. I can never forgive myself for 
 being so faithless to a plain and simple duty. We had such 
 a beautiful home, and might all have been so happy together ! 
 I might have done so much to make it pleasant for you and 
 my father and aunt ! But your prophecy of me was true 
 I was the first to yield to temptation, and to become the slave 
 of my own vanity and self-love. Yes, it is in vain to deny it 
 I was not the daughter and sister that I should have been.' 
 
 * You have been a faithful sister to me, Mabel,' said Harry. 
 ' If you had a fault in the world, it was because your nature 
 was so open to impressions that, like your poor brother, you 
 were easily led captive ; but you women have a deeper insight 
 than we into the depths of human character, and so you can 
 stop short where we must fall, unless some gentle hand fol 
 lows and upholds us.' What a confiding look he gave her 
 while he spoke the last words proving by it how fully he 
 realized that she was the staff on which he leaned. 
 
 She made no reply, and he went* on. * There was a time 
 when I thought that the plausible, treacherous Dudley he 
 who had brought me to the verge of ruin, and there left me to 
 stand or fall as I best might was striving with all his powers 
 to establish an influence over you. I thought you cherished 
 his opinions, and trusted to his false professions, and would 
 sacrifice every other friend for one of the most insinuating of 
 men. I knew my interference would fail to open your eyes ; 
 I had been the one to introduce him to you, and had been 
 perpetually praising him. He had once called me the *' self- 
 willed, ruined dog ;" how could I tell but that you thought so 
 too ? You took all your opinions from Dudley ; how did I 
 know but what he had prejudiced you against me ? he the 
 pure and spotless Dudley. But instinct taught you, I believe, 
 to repel the hypocrite, and something better than instinct bids 
 
 T 2 
 
276 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 you cling to the poor dog, who is at least sincere when he tells 
 you how much he loves you.' 
 
 Mabel clung to him the closer, but was silent. 
 
 ' Yes/ continued he, with forced and bitter composure, ' I 
 have no right to blame any one but myself for my fall ; but if 
 there is one man more than another who is in any degree 
 responsible for it, it is Lincoln Dudley. It was he whose 
 elegant taste for play first led me to the gaming-table ; he 
 taught me to seek excitement in wine ; his professed idleness 
 robbed me of all impulse to exertion ; and his sceptical prin 
 ciples made me question the very existence of virtue. He 
 would leave the gaming-house with moderate winnings, while 
 I had staked and lost everything ; he would coolly drain the 
 bottle, one glass from which had set my hot blood boiling ; 
 and when at last, in some unguarded moment, I had betrayed 
 my weakness, he was the first to point at me the finger of 
 scorn, and drive me to desperation by his contemptuous 
 neglect. I deserved contempt, but not from him. Nor was 
 it the least of my torments that, while turning his back upon 
 me, he dared offer his unworthy homage to the person I loved 
 best in the world. Thank Heaven, Mabel, you had the 
 discernment and the strength of mind which are needed to 
 understand and cope with such a man.' 
 
 ' O Harry/ exclaimed Mabel, making an effort to speak, 
 only as she felt herself called upon to disclaim this tribute 
 of praise, ' I am not the strong-minded girl you think me. I 
 did not question his sincerity. I believed him everything that 
 was noble and true. I \rould 'gladly believe him so still, but 
 I cannot.' 
 
 The tone of her voice betrayed her ; it told of misplaced 
 affection, disappointed trust, and weariness of spirit. Harry 
 put his arm around her, drew her face close to his, and 
 whispered, ' You gave him up for my sake ?' 
 
 4 1 could not find it in my heart to leave you alone, Harry/ 
 was her simple answer. 
 
 * Bless your loving heart, Mabel,' responded he, kissing her 
 tenderly ; ' Dudley and I are alike unworthy of it.' 
 
 This conversation, serving as it did to throw new light upon 
 the cold and artificial character of Dudley, had at the same 
 time the effect of sensibly weakening the hold which he still 
 had upon Mabel's interest and imagination. Conscious as she 
 was of his duplicity towards herself, she was still more deeply 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 277 
 
 shocked as she contemplated the faithlessness of his once 
 boasted friendship for Harry, and she henceforth began to 
 realize that in freeing herself from the influence of this selfish 
 and worldly-wise man, she had secured her own no less than 
 her brother's welfare. 
 
 It was one morning towards the end of August when Harry, 
 who had now wholly recovered, entered his aunt Ridgway's 
 sitting-room with a New York paper in his hand, and glancing 
 over the items of intelligence, read them aloud for the benefit 
 of his aunt Sabiah and Mabel, who were seated there. 
 
 ' Regatta next week at Cape May Disastrous fire in 
 Canal-street Splendid fancy ball at Newport, the beauti 
 ful Mrs. Leroy of New York one of the belles of the even 
 ing.' 
 
 i More shame for her,' muttered Sabiah, in an under tone. 
 i Where's her husband, I wonder?' 
 
 * Shocking railroad accident,' continued Harry, disregarding 
 the interruption ; ' nineteen persons killed and wounded.' 
 
 ' Oh, dear, how common those things are becoming !' said 
 Mabel. * Where was it, Harry ?' 
 
 ' Good heavens !' exclaimed the latter, making no reply to 
 the question, and turning suddenly pale. 
 
 i What is the matter ?' cried Mabel in alarm. l Did the 
 accident happen at the West ? Father ' 
 
 ' Father is safe,' said Harry, at once relieving her fears, 
 ' but Mr. Leroy " 
 
 ( Is killed ?' gasped Mabel, with a countenance full of dread, 
 while Sabiah laid down her work and stared at Harry with 
 strained and horror-stricken features. 
 
 Harry answered by covering his face with one hand and 
 passing Mabel the paper, with his thumb on the following 
 paragraph : 
 
 * We regret to learn that our esteemed fellow-citizen, 
 Alexander Leroy, Esq., was among the victims of this fatal 
 catastrophe. Mr. John Vaughan, a well-known and highly- 
 respected merchant of our city, was also a passenger on board 
 the train, and, at the moment of the accident, occupied the 
 same seat with his son-in-law, Mr. Leroy ; but the former 
 providentially escaped with only a few bruises, while the latter 
 was instantly killed.' 
 
 Mabel ran her eye hastily over this account, and, as she 
 read the partial confirmation of her fear, uttered a low cry, 
 
278 ..MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 and handed the paper to her Aunt Sabiah. Not a word was 
 spoken for some minutes, all seemed struck dumb by the 
 sudden and awful nature of the shock, and solemn thoughts 
 chased each other through the minds of each. 
 
 Thanksgiving for her father's deliverance was mingled in 
 Mabel's mind with horror and grief at the sudden death of 
 Mr. Leroy ; and in spite of her sister's cold-hearted frivolity, 
 she shuddered as she thought of the heavy blow which awaited, 
 if it had not already reached, her. Perhaps Harry experienced 
 the same train of thought, for he at length broke the silence 
 by the abrupt inquiry, ' Mabel, where is Louise ?' 
 
 ' I do not know,' replied Mabel ; ' I wish I did, so that I 
 might go to her.' 
 
 * She is not at Newport, then ?' 
 
 ' No. She was to give up her rooms the day after the 
 ball, and either visit the Earles at West Point, or go to Cape 
 May with Mrs. Vannecker, it was quite undecided when 
 she wrote last.' 
 
 * You will stay here then, I suppose, until you hear from 
 her,' said he ; ' but I think I had better go immediately to 
 father.' 
 
 ' Yes, do, Harry,' replied Mabel, eagerly ; ' he may be 
 more hurt than we suppose; at all events, he will need you. 
 Oh, how I wish we could learn the particulars, and be sure of 
 his safety.' 
 
 Mrs. Ridgway at this moment entered the room, and seeing 
 the unusual agitation which was written in every countenance, 
 exclaimed, with her wonted abruptness, ' Well, what's to do 
 here ? Sabiah, what's given you such a long face ?' 
 
 Sabiah gravely communicated the intelligence to her. 
 
 1 Upon my word,' cried she, c brother John has had a nar 
 row escape. And so that gad-about of a Louise is left a 
 widow, is she? Well, I dare say she has not found it out 
 herself yet. The blow that reaches her has got to strike her 
 on the wing/ 
 
 No one, not even Sabiah, felt disposed at this moment to 
 echo Mrs. Ridgway's remark, while the roughness of her 
 words and manner grated painfully upon Mabel's overcharged 
 feelings, and she hastened to her own room to give vent to 
 the emotions which she could no longer control. 
 An hour or two afterwards she was joined by Harry. He 
 had made some inquiries concerning the route which it would 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 279 
 
 be advisable for him to take, in order to reach the distant 
 scene of the accident in the shortest possible time, and had 
 decided that it would be best to start that evening 1 . Mabel 
 could not but perceive, even at this agitating season, that he 
 seemed inspired with new energy, by the sudden necessity for 
 exerting himself in another's behalf; nor could she help 
 hoping, that in the breaking up of evil associations, and the 
 escape from the scene of his recent mortification, he would 
 gain new strength for carrying out his earnest and manly pur 
 pose of reformation. 
 
 By the judicious management of young Bloodgood in the 
 sale of Harry's horses and their expensive equipment, a suffi 
 cient sum had been raised to defray his numerous debts. 
 There was but little remaining, however, and he was obliged 
 to beg assistance from Mabel's purse, to furnish him with funds 
 for the journey. Proud of the promptness with which he had 
 rendered justice to his creditors, and feeling this expedition to 
 be one in which they had a common interest, Mabel would 
 gladly have transferred to him every cent of her ample supply 
 of pocket-money. But he would receive only what his actual 
 expenses demanded, forcing back the rest into her hand, and 
 saying, l You forget how much you may need it yourself/ 
 
 It had been agreed that Mabel should write to Louise at 
 both the points where a letter might possibly reach her, and 
 that, until she had some certain knowledge of her sister's 
 plans, she should remain at L., to which place Harry's letters 
 should be directed, whenever he had anything to communi 
 cate. 
 
 Two days after her brother's departure, Mabel's suspense 
 was to some degree relieved by a few hasty lines from her 
 father, dated from a Western post-town, and simply confirming 
 the fact of Mr. Leroy's death, and his own safety. 
 
 The next mail also brought tidings from Louise. Mrs. 
 Vannecker wrote from Cape May, stating that Mrs. Leroy had 
 accompanied her thither the preceding week, and had learned 
 the terrible news the day after her arrival. 
 
 * She bears the stroke with more composure than I had ex 
 pected,' added Mrs. Vannecker. * At times she is excited and 
 hysterical, but for the most part she is tolerably cheerful, and 
 allows herself to be comforted and consoled by the attention 
 and sympathy which she receives from every one in the hotel. 
 Alick seems to feel his father's death, but Murray, poor child, 
 
280 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 is too young, I suppose, to realize the loss. Louise is now 
 asleep on a couch in my room. When she awakes, she will 
 add a postscript in reply to your sweet, affectionate letter, 
 which was received last evening.' 
 
 Mrs. Leroy's postscript consisted of a strange medley of 
 self-compassionating and congratulatory phrases : the former, 
 that she had experienced such a cruel shock to her nerves, 
 and lost such a kind, indulgent husband ; the latter, that she 
 had foreseen this or some similar catastrophe, and had wisely 
 refused to accompany Mr. Leroy into that shocking Western 
 wilderness. The only really coherent passage was that in 
 which she deprecated the idea of her sister's coming to Cape 
 May, where the house was so crowded, on account of the ap 
 proaching regatta, that it would be impossible to obtain any 
 accommodation. She expected to return to New York in the 
 course of a week or two ; should be glad to have Mabel meet 
 her there, and would write again to let ;her know when she 
 should leave the sea-side. 
 
 The next ten days were weary ones to Mabel. She seemed 
 to be oppressed by a fever of the spirits, and to be weighed 
 down by some haunting fear. She found it impossible to rally 
 her cheerfulness, notwithstanding Mrs. Ridgway's declaration 
 that it was nonsense to pretend she was so much overcome by 
 the death of Mr. Leroy, who could have been little more than 
 a stranger to her. The violence of the shock she had received, 
 a not unreasonable anxiety concerning her father, and a painful 
 sense of the impropriety of her sister's situation at a public 
 watering-place, all acting as they did on a system weakened 
 by protracted labours in a sick-room, might well account for 
 this seemingly unnatural depression. But so heavy was the 
 cloud which hung over her mind during this interval, that 
 Mabel was afterwards tempted to believe it a foreshadowing 
 of the calamities about to ensue. 
 
 A letter, at length, arrived from Harry, and with it an 
 awkward, square-shaped epistle, directed in a strange, unsteady 
 nand, and post-marked New York. In her eagerness to learn 
 the contents of the former, Mabel threw the latter aside, 
 while she perused her brother's communication. It ran as 
 follows : 
 
 4 DEAREST MAY : After three days and nights of constant 
 travelling, I arrived at the miserable town from which my 
 father wrote to you, and found him wretchedly accommodated 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 281 
 
 in a mere barn of a place, every tolerable room in the tavern, 
 and every spare corner in the few private houses, having been 
 appropriated to those of the passengers who were more seri 
 ously injured. My father's escape seems almost miraculous, 
 as he was in the front car, which rolled over twice as it fell 
 down the embankment. He has suffered considerably from a 
 bruise on his back, and a sprain in the ankle, which made him 
 quite helpless for a few days. He has, also, had an uncom 
 fortable sensation of dizziness in the head, but that is merely 
 the natural effect of the jar, and has already begun to subside. 
 Do not be anxious about him, for I flatter myself I make a 
 capital doctor, nurse, cook, and housekeeper, all of which 
 offices have devolved upon me. 
 
 * As soon as he could be moved without pain, we came to 
 the farm-house, situated on my father's property, where he 
 and Mr. Leroy have had a temporary residence this summer. 
 It may truly be termed a lodge in the vast wilderness, for 
 though situated on a street of imposing breadth, in the heart 
 of an extensive township, the place is literally a city in pro 
 spective, a few straggling houses constituting the village, 
 while a wide, rolling prairie stretches from the rear of our 
 habitation to the verge of the horizon. The situation, how 
 ever, is at once grand and picturesque ; for on the western 
 side we overlook a beautiful, winding river, whose well- 
 wooded banks form a refreshing belt of shade, and in the 
 grove, which is but a short walk from the house, we have 
 buried poor Leroy. You would be amused with our house 
 keeping. The man who has had charge of the place is un 
 married, and we keep a complete bachelor's hall. The house, 
 however, is convenient, and has been tolerably well fitted up 
 during the summer campaign, so that, although we are not 
 luxuriously accommodated, we are very comfortable ; as much 
 so, at least, as men can be independent of woman's genius 
 and aid. I tell you this because we shall probably remain 
 some time in our present quarters, and you will be desirous 
 to know how we are situated. 
 
 ' Father's affairs, which were somewhat involved, are ren 
 dered more so by Mr. Leroy's sudden death. I find I can be 
 of essential service, especially as an amanuensis, and shall not 
 think of leaving him until his business is settled. He seems 
 to take it for granted that you will continue in L. for the 
 present, and that Louise will remain at the sea-side, or go to 
 
282 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 some quiet boarding-place in the country. If we should be 
 detained here into the winter, however, which I have little 
 doubt will be the case, he will probably suggest some other 
 plan. At present he is too weak, and too much harassed by 
 perplexities, to decide upon anything more than a.,temporary 
 arrangement. I cannot bear to think, dear May, of your 
 being subjected any longer to Aunt Bidgway's overbearing 
 temper and restrictions. I can almost believe you would be 
 happier here, where, at least, one is independent. This is 
 indeed a glorious country. I feel a larger life stirring within 
 me, when I breathe the free air of these noble woods and 
 prairies. It inspires me with new energy, and gives me 
 strength to believe that with God's help I may yet live to 
 some worthy purpose, and that my darling sister may never 
 again have cause to weep at the disgrace of her brother, 
 
 ' HARRY/ 
 
 It is doubtful how long Mabel might have sat pondering 
 the contents of Harry's letter, and especially its final clause, 
 had not her aunt Ridgway, as she crossed the room, observed 
 the other document lying in her niece's lap, and exclaimed, 
 ' What a queer looking letter ! Missent twice,' added she, 
 as she took it up and surveyed it with those keen eyes which 
 had never yet required spectacles. t Strange that anybody 
 who could write at all shouldn't know how to spell the name 
 of this town.' 
 
 Mabel's curiosity beinj? thus re-awakened, she tore open the 
 letter. It was from Lydia Hope, and dated a week back. 
 
 4 DEAR Miss MABEL,' wrote Lydia, ' I'm afraid you don't 
 know that Mrs. Leroy is very sick at the hotel here in New 
 York. I hated to frighten you, and didn't know how to tell 
 you of it without ; but mother says you ought to know, for it 
 wouldn't be like you not to come right away. When she first 
 took sick, Cecilia sent for us, and we've been here ever since. 
 Cecilia has gone back to Cape May to wait on another lady. 
 Mother does the best she can, and I try to be of some use. 
 The folks in the hotel are very good, and the doctor comes 
 ever so often ; but he can't seem to help her, and she's getting 
 very bad. Oh, Miss Mabel, we wish you were here, and we 
 hope you will start as soon as you get this. 
 
 4 Very dutifully and respectfully yours, 
 
 ' LYDIA HOPE." 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 283 
 
 With a trembling- heart, but maintaining, nevertheless, that 
 self-command and energy with which a strong mind braces 
 itself to meet every emergency, Mabel at once prepared to 
 obey this trying summons. There was no time to be lost, for 
 she might already be too late to render any assistance to poor 
 Louise ; and her resolution to depart immediately, was equally 
 unshaken by her aunt Margaret's inveighing against the soli 
 tary journey, as being the height of impropriety, and her 
 aunt Sabiah's tearfully remonstrating against the exposure to 
 a disease which she felt sure was something contagious. By 
 starting a little before daybreak the next morning 1 , she could 
 reach New York at night-fall ; and whatever dread she might 
 at another time have felt at the thought of travelling unpro 
 tected and alone, the still greater dread of delay banished 
 every minor consideration. 
 
 Mrs. Ridgway, who, if she agreed with Sabiah on no other 
 point, shared all her prejudices against Louise, and felt for her 
 neither affection nor sympathy, took more than one opportunity 
 of protesting that this hot-headed proceeding on Mabel's part 
 was entered on with her entire disapprobation, and that she 
 never again would undertake the responsibility of having 
 young people in her house. As this expression of her 
 resolution was still further enforced by the energetic orders 
 which she that evening gave her servants, in Mabel's hearing, 
 to take up the carpets the next day, and otherwise prepare to 
 renovate the rooms which had been occupied by herself and 
 Harry, Mabel plainly understood that she had nothing further 
 to expect from her aunt's hospitality ; and when, therefore, she 
 drove from the door, in the dim morning light, it was with 
 the full consciousness that she was bidding the town of L. a 
 final adieu. 
 
( 284 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The songs of joy are funeral cries become, 
 And luxury's board is covered with a pall ; 
 
 The chamber of the banquet is a tomb ; 
 Death, the pale autocrat, he rules o'er all. 
 
 DEBZHAVIN. 
 
 IT was between eight and nine o'clock in the evening 1 , and an 
 unusual bustle prevailed in the lower hall and offices of a 
 much-frequented New York hotel. It was the principal 
 season for Southern and Western travel ; the British mail 
 steamer had come to her dock that morning ; the coaches were 
 just driving up from the Eastern railroad, and porters, 
 waiters, and other officials were clattering over the pavement 
 and jostling each other in the passages. A boy about nine 
 years of age was leaning heavily over the bannisters of the 
 wide staircase, his listless attitude and gloomy countenance 
 betokening his indifference to the exciting scene which was 
 transpiring below, while a younger and gayer little fellow, 
 mounted on the clerk's desk, was smoking a cigaretto, and 
 declaiming, in a droll, bombastic style, for the entertainment 
 and applause of a crowd of idlers, who now and then inter 
 rupted him with cheers and peals of laughter. 
 
 6 Hallo ! hold on ! give us some more, young America/ 
 shouted several voices, as the little orator, flinging away the 
 cigaretto with which he had been bribed, made a sudden effort 
 to spring from the arms of the individual who supported him 
 on his elevated platform. 
 
 ' Let me go, let me go/ cried the boy, struggling lustily to 
 escape ; ' my Aunt Mabel has come, 1 see my auntie ; let me 
 go, I say.' 
 
 ' Don't keep the boy from his auntie,' exclaimed one or two 
 of the spectators, at the same time turning to give a broad stare 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 285: 
 
 at Mabel, who had been observed by Murray the moment she 
 entered the hotel, but whose face was hid as she now stooped 
 to embrace the eager child. The light laugh and the meaning 
 whisper which succeeded, gave place to respectful silence, how 
 ever, as Mabel glanced around with grave and dignified wonder, 
 and then, with the boy still clinging to her neck, hastened up 
 the staircase. 
 
 Alick did not advance to meet her as she approached ; he 
 even tried to hide his face ; but when she took his forehead 
 between her hands and tenderly kissed him, questioning him, 
 meanwhile, with her earnest look, he uttered a smothered cry, 
 and, grasping her by the dress, followed, sobbing. 
 
 ' Take me to my mamma, Aunt Mabel/ cried Murray, ve 
 hemently ; * they won't let me see my pretty mamma.' Not 
 daring to breathe to the children the question which trembled 
 on her lips, Mabel hurried on in the direction of the rooms her 
 sister had been wont to occupy, and, as she turned a corner, 
 encountered Lydia Hope, who, hearing Murray's voice, had 
 hastened to meet and quiet him. In the dim light, she did not 
 recognise Mabel, until the latter caught her by the hand and 
 said, in a low, unnatural voice, 'Lydia, how is Mrs. Leroy? 
 is she living ?' 
 
 * O Miss Mabel, is that you ?' cried Lydia ; ' you have 
 come at last.' 
 
 'Is she living?' asked Mabel, repeating her inquiry, as she 
 observed that Lydia evaded a direct reply. 
 
 ' Yes, she is ; I can just say that,' replied Lydia, with hesi 
 tation ; ' but oh, he mustn't go in,' added she, interrupting 
 herself, in a distressed voice, as Murray attempted to rush 
 past. 
 
 6 Stop, Murray ; stop, darling/ exclaimed Mabel, intercept 
 ing and staying him in his progress. ' I will go and see 
 if you can come in, and will come back by-and-by and 
 tell you. Alick will try to amuse you, and so will Lydia. 
 Stay with them, Lydia, and coax them for a few minutes, 
 if you can,' she added, in an under tone. ' I will go in by 
 myself.' 
 
 How the paltry distinctions and petty vanities of life disap 
 pear before that mighty leveller which overleaps the bulwarks 
 of custom, and tramples into the dust the boasted elements of 
 beauty, power, and pride! Disease, which spares neither 
 prince nor beggar, now reigned triumphant in that apartment, 
 
286 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 where, a little while ago, fashion and luxury had held un 
 disputed sway. The spacious mirrors were shrouded, lest 
 they should reflect too vividly the harrowing- scene within. 
 The appliances of dress and ornament had given place to the 
 stern necessities of illness, and the rich draperies that shaded 
 the windows and couch had been removed for the freer 
 admission of air. All these were signs of the desolation and 
 fear which cometh like a whirlwind ; but what were these to 
 that deeper seal which was set on the face of her against whom 
 the fiat had gone forth ! Though believing that she had 
 armed herself against the worst, Mabel felt all her powers 
 paralyzed with horror, as, entering the chamber, unwarned and 
 unannounced, she beheld the face and form of her who, but a 
 few weeks before, had graced the dance and been the ornament 
 of the ball-room. Her beautiful wavy hair was cut short to 
 the temples, the once laughing eye was sunken, fixed, and 
 glassy, a deep red spot burned on each hollow cheek, while a 
 dark line around the mouth gave added ghastliness to the 
 countenance. The little hand, no longer graceful and be 
 witching in its gestures, now nervously clutched the counter 
 pane ; the breath was short and interrupted, and a vehement, 
 and, at times, incoherent muttering, betrayed the disordered 
 mind. The grave physician, stationed at the bedside, with 
 his fingers on the feeble pulse, shook his head discouragingly, 
 as the widow Hope applied to the dry lips of the patient a 
 spoonful of liquid, which she had no longer the power to 
 swallow. 
 
 Heart-rending as was this picture, its painful effect was still 
 further enhanced by the nature of the wild words which burst 
 at intervals from the poor sufferer, who retained, even in this 
 awful moment, the perfect power of speech. * What ! give 
 up my beautiful rooms !' exclaimed she, in a strained and 
 hollow tone, * and go out into that dreadful prairie ! No, no, 
 I say ; I will not bury myself in the country ! Do you hear 
 me, Mr. Leroy ?' then, again, after a few low rnutterings, 
 her wandering thoughts seemed to take a different turn, and 
 she cried out as if disputing a contested point : ' They shall 
 not take my jewels no, nor my plate I Diamonds are not 
 property ; they cannot be seized to pay his debts !' and then, 
 exhausted by this outburst, her clenched hands dropped power 
 less and her lips suddenly closed. 
 
 With form bent forward, and eyes dilated with sudden fear 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 287 
 
 and dread, Mabel stood for a moment unobserved, just within 
 the doorway, taking in at a glance the whole agonizing scene ; 
 then a sudden faintness seized her, a film overspread her sight, 
 her heart seemed to cease its beating, and she sank upon the 
 floor. 
 
 They carried her into the next room, where she was speedily 
 restored to consciousness, and having drunk a cup of tea (for 
 she had fasted since morning), she was enabled to overcome 
 her temporary weakness, and assume a composure which, with 
 heroic effort, she succeeded in maintaining to the end. 
 
 1 You have arrived at a distressing hour, Miss Vaughan/ 
 said the physician ; * is there no one whom you would like to 
 send for, to be with you to-night ?' 
 
 Mabel thought a moment, then shook her head. Among 
 her wide circle of acquaintances there were none whose pre 
 sence could sustain her at such a moment ; and, looking grate 
 fully at Mrs. Hope and Lydia, she answered ' No one ; I 
 have no better friends than these.' 
 
 It was a terrible night. A violent thunder-storm came on, 
 and seemed to shake the house to its foundations ; the inmates 
 of the hotel were excited and noisy ; a number of arrivals arid 
 departures served to increase the tumult ; and few, if any, who 
 shared that public shelter, enjoyed an hour's repose. 
 
 And while the lightning flash and the reverberating roar 
 caused many a heart to tremble, while the wind rattled the 
 window-panes and whistled through the chimneys, while doors 
 banged loudly and hurried footsteps tramped across the marble 
 floors, and voices shouted from the halls below, and bells rang 
 in angry rivalry from every quarter of the building, and hea 
 ven and earth seemed alike contentious, a fiercer conflict still 
 went on within those narrow walls where an imprisoned soul 
 sought to burst its tenement of clay ; and amid the noise, the 
 hurry, the discord, and the strife, the flattered favourite of 
 fashion and the world encountered the merciless foe; did 
 battle with the keen destroyer ; experienced the last dread 
 struggle and the mortal agony. 
 
 1 If I can be of any use to you, I beg you will command my 
 services, Miss Vaughan,' said the gentlemanly, but somewhat 
 formal physician, who had spent the night at the hotel, but 
 whose professional attendance being no longer required was 
 about to take leave. 
 
 * You will send the person of whom you spoke ?' 
 
288 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 ' Yes. I have already despatched a messenger for him ; he 
 is usually employed on these occasions, and will see that every 
 thing is properly arranged/ 
 
 ( Thank you ; that is all the assistance I require/ said 
 Mabel, and the medical man bowed and left her. 
 
 She went and lay down on the foot of the children's bed, 
 not to sleep, but to be still and watch the peaceful slumber to 
 which she herself had soothed them. She was there when 
 they awoke, and when, amid their morning caresses, they 
 questioned her concerning their mother, she gently told them 
 the truth. 
 
 * Mamma is dead, and so is papa/ said Murray, * and so is 
 Rosy. But auntie, you wrote us in a letter that Rosy had 
 gone to a beautiful world, and so, then, has mamma ! And 
 I shall go too, one of these days/ added he, with a sort of 
 triumph. ' Oh, won't they be glad when they see me 
 coming !' 
 
 Alick did not speak, he only wept ; not because he had 
 more reason than Murray to love his parents but because 
 his heart was more deeply sensitive, and his mind mature 
 beyond his years. He could not be comforted, nor would he 
 give any reply to]Murray's often repeated inquiry why he 
 cried. 
 
 Mabel was soon obliged to leave them, being summoned to 
 meet the individual whom the doctor had sent to her assist 
 ance. She listened calmly and patiently while, taking the 
 matter into his own hands, he informed her that he needed no 
 directions ; he understood the circumstances perfectly, and he 
 knew what the occasion demanded ; what would be expected 
 from Mrs. Leroy's position in society , and should see that 
 the whole ceremony was conducted with taste and elegance. 
 It was a sad thing, he added, that Mr. Leroy should have 
 been taken off so suddenly, and left his affairs insolvent too 
 Mabel here gave a slight start of surprise ; she need not fear, 
 however, that he should regard this circumstance in his ar 
 rangements, for he had faith to believe, in spite of reports to 
 the contrary, that her respected father was not so deeply 
 involved but that he would retrieve himself, and be happy to 
 meet every demand. 
 
 4 The only wishes I have in this matter,' said Mabel, with 
 difficulty concealing the alarm and embarrassment excited by 
 these inuendoes, ( are that my sister's funeral should be con- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 289 
 
 ducted as simply as possible, and should take place from my 
 father's house.' 
 
 She was answered by a look of utter astonishment, and the 
 abrupt words, ' Is it possible, Miss Vaughan, that you are 
 ignorant of the sale which took place last week ; your father's 
 estate was put up at auction, and knocked off at considerably 
 less than its value, I should judge.' 
 
 ' Sold ! Are you sure ?' asked Mabel. < I speak of the 
 family residence in town.' 
 
 ' Certainly ; I am not likely to be mistaken,' replied the 
 man, whose authority in all matters connected with the good 
 or ill fortune of his patrons was seldom called in question, 
 -and who ,.felt, therefore, a little piqued at the implied doubt. 
 * It all went under the hammer; house and contents. I 
 heard there were some orders sent in, in regard to pictures and 
 other ornamental articles, but they came too late, and nothing 
 could be reclaimed. It is very unfortunate, to be sure,' con 
 tinued he, in a tone of compassion, but studying her face 
 meanwhile with'vulgar curiosity ; ' these little knick-knackeries 
 that one naturally sets store by, are the very things that give 
 a certain style to an establishment, and our rich upstarts 
 that snap at such a wholesale chance would not part with one 
 of them no, not if they had come down from your great- 
 great-grandfather/ 
 
 He would have declaimed still further on the subject ; but 
 Mabel, shocked at the unexpected revelations thus |made 
 through a stranger, unwilling to accept condolence from such a 
 quarter, and only anxious to terminate the conversation, inter 
 rupted him before he had time to proceed. ' I have been in 
 the country,' said she, with an air of reserve, c and had not 
 become aware of these particulars ; they are of no consequence 
 at present. If the house has been disposed of, as you say, the 
 funeral will, of course, take place from here ;' and, leaving to 
 him the furtherance of all other arrangements, she hastened 
 from the apartment. 
 
 In the hall, she met a porter with a trunk upon his shoulder, 
 and the next instant encountered a gentleman, who was just 
 vacating a neighbouring room, and who, coming hurriedly out 
 with a cloak over his arm, had nearly run against her in the 
 passage. He stepped politely aside to let her pass, and com 
 menced a graceful apology, but checked himself with ill-dis 
 guised embarrassment ; and for once, the courtly and accom- 
 
 u 
 
290 MADKL VAUUIIAX. 
 
 plished Dudley (for he it was), stood humbled and awed in the 
 presence of the young and unsophisticated girl. Not that 
 Mabel, in this moment of mutual recognition, made any as 
 sumption of arrogance or disdain, or that indifference had 
 already succeeded to her first romantic preference ; but sorrow 
 has a dignity all its own, and great calamities calmly met, and 
 solemn duties bravely done, set a seal upon the countenance 
 which may well make the selfish and the worldly tremble. 
 Thus, while she returned his awkward salutation with forced 
 but serene composure, and the blood, which rushed wildly to 
 her heart, never tinged the marble pallor of her cheek, the self- 
 convicted man of the world shrank from her glance as if it had 
 power to penetrate to the depths of his cowardly soul, and felt 
 himself abased by the consciousness that he was detected in 
 the very act of wilfully forsaking, in her hour of need, one 
 whom he had once professed to love ; for Dudley had arrived 
 the previous night, had learned, in common with the rest of 
 the household, the sad events of the last few hours, and was 
 seeking, by an abrupt flight, to excuse himself from any call 
 upon his sympathy or aid. So heartless were the calculations 
 and so contemptible the devices of this self-seeking, time 
 serving man, who, never knowing a genuine emotion himself, 
 was as incompetent as he was reluctant to enter into another's 
 woes. 
 
 It was in vain, therefore, that he strove to rally his self- 
 possession. Mabel had the superiority and she maintained it ; 
 and when, after a bow of feigned solemnity in deference to 
 her bereavement, and a gesture of imperative haste as an 
 apology for his brevity, he kept on his way with a downcast 
 eye, which had ventured to meet hers for an instant only, she 
 looked after him less in anger, less in pride, and less in 
 wounded affection, than with the generous compassion which 
 virtue must ever feel for meanness and duplicity. 
 
 f Poor, dear child !' exclaimed the widow Hope, who met 
 her at the door of the children's bed-room, where she had once 
 more sought a safe place of refuge, ' you look dead beat, and 
 no wonder, poor lamb ! How Rosy would have felt to see you 
 in such a strait as this!' and the widow wiped her eyes. 
 A Come, lie down again, and 'let me fetch you some breakfast., 
 Lyddy has taken the children down to get some, and I told her 
 to keep them out of the way for a while, so that you might 
 manage to get a nap.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 291 
 
 Utterly exhausted in heart and mind, Mabel had not the 
 strength to resist the persuasions of her kind friend ; so she ate 
 without appetite a few morsels of food, and permitted herself 
 to be coaxed into putting on a dressing-gown and lying down 
 in a darkened room. How long she thus lay quiet and un 
 disturbed she scarcely knew, for although slumber never once 
 visited her senses, thought was sharpened to such intensity as 
 to forbid her taking note of time ; and so unconscious was she, 
 of all that was passing around, that she gave a start of surprise 
 when, after the lapse of some hours, she opened her eyes and 
 saw the good Mrs. Hope, who, believing her to be asleep, was 
 patiently watching beside her. That these hours of quiet 
 meditation had not, however, been fruitless in resolve, was at 
 once made evident by the conversation which ensued between 
 the careworn but heroic girl and her humble but faithful 
 counsellor and friend. 
 
 i Mrs. Hope,' said Mabel, speaking with calm decision, but 
 at the same time looking fixedly in the face of the widow, as 
 if to judge of the effect of her announcement, ' I intend to 
 take the boys and go out West to my father.' 
 
 * You don't really mean it, Miss Mabel !' said the widow in 
 a deprecating tone, but looking less surprised than had been 
 anticipated by her hearer. 
 
 ' I have been thinking it over,' continued Mabel, ' and have 
 come to the conclusion it is the best thing I can do.' 
 
 ' "Well, Lyddy said perhaps you'd be for going out there, 7 
 remarked the widow ; ' but, dear-a-me, it seems such a long 
 way off.' 
 
 ' Yes, it is a long journey,' said Mabel, rising from the 
 bed as she spoke, with a countenance and manner which were 
 suggestive of the fresh energy inspired by the greatness of the 
 enterprise ; ' but I am not afraid, Mrs. Hope. Alick and Mur 
 ray will be brave little travellers, and I have learned already 
 that in this country a lady can always depend on the public 
 for kindness and protection.' 
 
 ' Dear me, what would your papa say,' asked Mrs. Hope, 
 6 if he knew you had such an idea in your head ?' 
 
 1 He does not, of course, know how I am situated,' said 
 Mabel, ' and I cannot be sure what he would think best ; so I 
 am obliged to judge for myself. We have no longer a home 
 in New York; I cannot take the children to my aunt 
 Ridgway's, even if I felt at liberty to go back there myself; I 
 
 u 2 
 
292 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 cannot stay here or anywhere else in the city ; besides,' con 
 tinued she, as if bringing forward the strongest point in her 
 argument, ' my father needs me I am sure of it. He is still 
 suffering from the accident, and has nobody but my brother to 
 nurse him ; they both need my help, and I must go/ 
 
 * Go where, mother?' asked Lydia in a whisper; 'out 
 "West?' 
 
 She had come in unperceived, and Mabel could not but 
 observe the earnestness of her inquiry. 
 
 Mrs. Hope nodded in assent. Lydia looked significantly 
 at her mother, whispered again, and then turned away and 
 busied herself at the other end of the room. Mrs. Hope 
 hesitated, and Mabel, perceiving that she wished to make 
 some suggestion but was waiting for encouragement, said, with 
 a faint attempt at a smile. ' What is it, Mrs. Hope ? tell me.' 
 
 ' Why, we were thinking,' said the widow,-* 1 that is, we 
 were talking it over this morning and if we felt sure you 
 would not take it amiss Lyddy has a friend I mean we 
 have a. friend, who is going out West, the day after to-mor 
 row/ 
 
 1 Well, Lydia,' said Mabel, 'and what of this friend?' 
 
 Lydia did not look round nor answer ; the tips of her ears 
 were very red, and she pretended to be exceedingly busy-^- 
 so her mother saved her the necessity of replying. ' Why, he 
 is a very clever fellow,' said the latter, ' and knows his place. 
 Yes, Owen is too proud to be presuming, and he knows all 
 about the railroads and steamboats, and you might be sure 
 he'd do his best to be of service and take care of your baggage, 
 and so on/ 
 
 Mabel now understood that these thoughtful friends had 
 foreseen the probability of her undertaking this long and 
 trying journey, and were anxious to provide her with a trusty 
 attendant and escort. So far from being offended at the pro 
 position, she thanked them cordially for their considerate 
 kindness, and reserving any decision in the matter, expressed 
 a wish to see the young man, who, she was told, would be 
 at the hotel that evening. Accordingly, when Owen Dowst 
 presented himself, and Mabel recognised in him the ruddy 
 teamster who had been Rose's friend, she at once decided in 
 her own mind to accept his protection, which was offered 
 with a respectful civility accompanied by manly independence. 
 
 It seemed that Owen had relinquished his former business, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 293 
 
 having- been induced to part with his noble horses by the 
 liberal offer of a gentleman who coveted this superb stud for 
 his family carriage, and that he was now about to seek his for 
 tune in what was then termed the Far West. As the point to 
 which he was bound was within one day's journey of Mr. 
 Vaughan's estate, and as he intended to accomplish the dis 
 tance, in the shortest possible time by travelling day and night, 
 his purpose and route were found to correspond wholly with 
 Mabel's ; and it was agreed that, on the following day but 
 one, she and the children should proceed to Albany, and 
 thence on their westward trip, under the guardianship of their 
 honest, though unpretending escort. 
 
 i Well, now that it's all settled, and it seems probable you'll 
 get there safe,' said Mrs. Hope, in a confidential tone to 
 Mabel, when she was alone with her that night, ' I must 
 say, I think it's the very best thing you could do, and I'm 
 glad you made up your mind to it. You don't seem to have 
 many relations anywhere 'round, and we're only humble 
 folks, and I for one couldn't bear you should stay here and 
 be slighted.' 
 
 4 How do you mean, Mrs. Hope ?' said Mabel ; 4 the people 
 in the house are civil, I believe/ 
 
 ' Well, yes, after a fashion ; only, you see, they've got it 
 all 'round about the "smash-up," as they call it, among the 
 high-feelin' folks. Not that anybody's any reason to say 
 that of you, Miss Mabel ; but your poor sister there it was 
 a pretty hard rub for her. She heard sort o' rumours down to 
 the sea-shore, and she hurried up, Cecilia said, to find out if 
 it was true, and look after the things she'd left here that she 
 thought were her own by right, and they weren't very ready 
 to let her have the rooms ; and the servants, they'd got their 
 mouths full of it, and kind of flung it at her and it seemed 
 as if everything came together. Laws me ! 'twas that more'n 
 the heat or anything else that took her down.' 
 
 Mabel shuddered as she thought of the trial that must have 
 been so bitter to her vain and worldly sister, and wept as she 
 meditated on its fearful consequences. She had no fear of 
 disrespect herself, but she could well imagine the nature of 
 the retaliation which had been visited on Mrs. Leroy, whose 
 supercilious manners, barely tolerated in her days of prosperity, 
 would have been sure to excite ridicule and contempt for her 
 in her fallen fortunes. 
 
294 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 Alas for the honour which has health alone for its founda 
 tion, and the hope which is dependent on frail mortality ! 
 With one blast of misfortune, the former is changed to 
 ignominy and insult, and the latter gives place to desperation, 
 decay, and death. 
 
 In spite of Mabel's directions to the contrary, there was 
 yet one more scene of worldly show, in which the remains of 
 the once brilliant Mrs. Leroy were destined to form a part. 
 Simplicity was not in the code of that professed fashionist, 
 who had charge of the funeral arrangements ; and they were 
 therefore conducted with all that pomp and parade which he 
 deemed essential to his own dignity, if not that of their more 
 immediate object. Due notice had been given of the time and 
 place of the solemnities; but, except by Mabel, the children, 
 Mrs. Hope, and Lydia, whose feelings were sincerely affected, 
 and a few of the residents and servants of the hotel, who came 
 out of curiosity, the services were unattended. The clergy 
 man, at whose church Mrs. Leroy had now and then occupied 
 a richly-furnished pew, was absent from the city, and tho 
 ceremony was performed by a stranger. Still, except that 
 Mabel wore no mourning, which she had neither the time nor 
 the means to procure, there was no omission of any of the 
 customary symbols of grief, and everything was conducted on 
 a scale of profuse magnificence. The carriages, nearly all of 
 which were empty, filed oft' one by one, a melancholy 
 pageant a seeming mockery of her whose whole life had been a 
 pageant and, in an expensive tomb, in the heart of the noisy 
 city, the strange officials, each wearing a solemn badge, laid 
 the form of her who was destined to be speedily unmissed and 
 forgotten in the very scene of her boasted triumphs. 
 
 It was the dim hour of twilight, and Mabel, who had a few 
 hours before returned from paying the last tribute of respect 
 and affection to her sister, was seated with Murray on her 
 knee, and one arm round the waist of the other orphan boy. 
 A note had just been handed to her, written on rose-coloured 
 paper, and expressing in high-flown terms the regret of Mrs. 
 Vannecker that she could not come to her aid. ' Cecilia re 
 turned to the Cape yesterday/ wrote she, ' to engage herself 
 as waiting-maid to a Southern lady, and brought me news of 
 dear Louise's distressing illness. It is truly shocking. My 
 heart yearns to be with her and to comfort you, if you have 
 arrived, as was expected ; but the regatta is to take place to- 
 
VAUGHAN. 295 
 
 morrow, and Vic has so set her heart upon it, that we cannot 
 leave until it is over. I shall then hope to see you, my dar 
 ling 1 , and to find that our dear Louise's illness is taking a 
 favourable turn. Of course you employ Gregory ; there is 
 nobody like him.' 
 
 Mabel was placing the note in her pocket, with a long sigh, 
 when there was an abrupt knock at the door. An unfamiliar 
 name was spoken by the servant, and a visitor was unceremo 
 niously ushered into the room. She started up violently- 
 agitated, as if the venerable form before her had been that of 
 a spectre ; for, as she recognised the aged man known to us 
 as Father Noah, there flashed across her the remembrance 
 that Louise had once prophesied this visit, and that, in the 
 same breath, she had lightly and confidently sung the equally- 
 prophetic words, ' But, oh, I shall not be there !' 
 
 Where was she? We -may not question the mercy of an 
 infinite Providence ; but the thrill which shot through Mabel's 
 heart at the moment, proved the strength of her conviction, 
 that her poor sister had. not, while on earth, earned a title to a 
 heavenly birthright. 
 
 The good clergyman saw her agitation ; but in no degree 
 attributing it to his own presence, took her hand gently and 
 sat down beside her. ' If Mrs. Hope tells me truly, my dear 
 young lady,' said he, l you are realizing the truth, which has 
 passed into a proverb, that misfortunes seldom come singly.' 
 
 ' I am,' said Mabel, solemnly. 
 
 ( Can I help you?' he asked, in a simple, fatherly tone. 
 
 ' Your kindness helps me/ sobbed Mabel, ' and I would 
 gladly have a place in your prayers.' 
 
 ' Shall I pray with you ?' he added. 
 
 Mabel sank upon her knees, and the children instinctively 
 followed her example, while the old man asked a blessing on 
 them. 
 
 It was no common prayer that followed. It betrayed a 
 perfect knowledge of the sorrows and the wants of the little 
 u;roup ; and as it commended them to the mercy of Heaven, 
 and besought for her, who was to be the guide of youth, the 
 strength which cometh from God only, Mabel felt herself 
 sanctified for the work that was given her to do, and ready to 
 go out into the wilderness, with a brave heart, at tne com 
 mandment of the Lord. 
 
 She rose up, therefore, composed and strengthened ; and, as 
 
296 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 the venerable man sat down, drew the children to his knee, 
 and expressed the simple interest which he had long cherished 
 in Mabel's welfare, she felt her heart opened towards him, and 
 talked freely of her coming experience and its possible duties 
 and trials. He gave her much wise counsel, expressed for her 
 much tender sympathy, and did not forget to impress upon 
 the children, and especially upon Alick, who was listening to 
 him with respectful attention, the obligation which rested upon 
 them to behave, as he said, like little men, and be to her a 
 comfort rather than a care. 
 
 Thus, in the hour of her spirit's need, when those who had 
 walked with her in high places shrank from the gentle minis 
 tries which affliction craves, this faithful servant of the poor 
 had learned the story of Mabel's grief from the lips of her 
 humble friends, and had come to soothe her with his sympathy 
 and fortify her with his prayers ; while, actuated by a like 
 spirit of Christian love, the family whom Louise had injured, 
 and the venerable man whom she had despised, had vied 
 with each other in offices of love to herself and her orphan 
 children. 
 
 1 Your visit has done me good, sir,' said Mabel, taking both 
 his hands, as he rose to go ; 'I thank you for it with all my 
 heart, it has made me strong.' 
 
 4 May the .Lord strengthen and bless you !' said he, fervently,, 
 in reply ; and may the peace of God, which passeth all un 
 derstanding, dwell in your heart for evermore !' 
 
( 297 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 In the dark winter of affliction's hour, 
 When summer friends and pleasures haste away, 
 And the wrecked heart perceives how frail each power 
 It made a refuge, and believed a stay ; 
 When man, all wild and weak is seen to be 
 There's none like Thee, Lord ! there's none like Thee I 
 
 Miss JEWSBURV. 
 
 THE morning of departure came. The landlord of the hotel 
 had been summoned, and on Mabel's expressing her regret 
 that her funds were only sufh'cient for her present wants, 
 had cordially assured her of his perfect readiness to wait Mr. 
 Vaughan's convenience for the settlement of his accounts, 
 and had himself accompanied her to the steamboat. . Mrs. 
 Hope was there with shawls over her arm, and parcels in her 
 hand ; Jack was there with a huge basket of cakes and candy ? 
 provided by his thoughtful mother ; Lydia was there, her 
 eyes red with crying, and her hands busy in giving the finish 
 ing touch to Murray's curls ; and Owen Dowst was at the 
 further end of the wharf attending to the baggage. 
 
 At length they took their places, Mabel and the boys in the 
 centre of the deck, where they were protected by aw ample 
 awning, and Owen modestly choosing a seat at the stern of 
 the boat, where, without intrusion, he could keep the little 
 party in sight. The bell rang and they moved off; Jack 
 waved his cap, Mrs. Hope cried out c Good-bye,' and Lydia 
 timidly threw a kiss, not at Mabel, however, or the boys, 
 but in response to one from the stern of the vessel, where 
 Owen stood, leaning over the railing, and looking back with 
 a tear in his honest eye. 
 
 The first day's journey passed without any important inci 
 dent. The weather, which had promised to be fair, soon 
 became dull, and at length a pouring rain drove the passen 
 gers to the cabin, where, for many successive hours, they were 
 
298 3IABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 crowded together, deprived of fresh air, and with no prospect 
 of being 1 able to venture again on deck. 
 
 Here all Mabel's powers were called into action for the 
 diversion and entertainment of Murray, whose restlessness 
 could ill brook the restraint to which he was subjected in the 
 ladies' saloon, and who continually threatened to stray beyond 
 its limits. Fortunately, however, Owen, who had stationed 
 himself in the vicinity of the door, contrived to decoy him to 
 a place on his knee, and amused and entertained him there 
 until the bell sounded for dinner. While watching the good- 
 natured youth, as he cut an apple into a fanciful shape, or 
 whittled a figure from a bit of wood, the child was completely 
 happy, and Mabel was freed from all anxiety concerning him. 
 
 These ingenious and friendly devices, however, though not 
 lost upon Alick, had no power to win him from his position 
 beside Mabel, where, with the basket of provisions at his 
 feet, and his arm passed through the handle of the. carpet 
 bag. he sat upright and firm as a sentinel at his post. 
 Whether Father Noah's exhortation, to " behave like a little 
 man," still influenced him, or whether he felt a proud and 
 instinctive consciousness of being in some degree his aunt's 
 protector. I do not know ; but from some motive he restrained 
 every sign of weariness, and never once during the day uttered 
 a single complaint. 
 
 They dined and supped on board the boat, the thoughtful 
 Owen having secured seats, and recommended them to the 
 care of one of the waiters, whom he chanced to know, and with 
 whom he afterwards took his own repast at the second table. 
 
 But although the gentle motion of the boat, the comparative 
 privacy of the ladies' cabin, and the respectful devotion of her 
 attendant, contrived to render this first day's experience satis 
 factory to Mabel, and ^soothing to her anxieties, the interval 
 between the arrival of the party in Albany, and their depar 
 ture in the night-train for Buffalo, was replete with tho^e 
 incidents which constitute the trials of the traveller, arid 
 render journeying an uncertain and hazardous experiment. 
 The boat was late at the wharf: there was some delay and 
 difficulty in the distribution of baggage ; noise and confusion 
 prevailed in every direction ; and before Owen could collect 
 his own boxes and Mabel's trunks, the carriages, loaded with 
 passengers for the cars, had all driven ofK Among the 
 coaches that remained, all had one or more occupants bound 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 299 
 
 in a different direction, and none of the drivers would agree 
 to reach the station in time for the Western train. Mabel's 
 countenance betrayed her agitation and alarm, Alick looked 
 piteously from one rough face to another, and Murray, dimly 
 comprehending that something was the matter, as usual 
 began to cry, 
 
 4 Look here I say,' cried Owen, catching a burley, round- 
 faced fellow by the button, and glancing significantly towards 
 Mabel, ' don't disappoint that lady now, it's too bad, her 
 folks were hurt, one on 'em killed by that bad accident last 
 week, she's a goin' out 'there to her father, don't you be the 
 means of her losin' the train/ 
 
 What a revulsion of feeling such an appeal will oftentimes 
 produce. ' No, really !' said the man. l Now that's a case. 
 Hullo, Sam,' haul those trunks up here, will yer? Give a 
 hand, boy, her father ' (in his turn, nodding at Mabel) 
 ' was killed on the cars last week. Look here, you,' speaking 
 to a gaily-dressed fop inside, who seeing his valise uncere 
 moniously thrown on to the footpath, was already preparing 
 to alight ; ' this gentleman' (waving his hand towards Sam) 
 ' will take you up to the hotel ; I'm bound to get these tother 
 folks down to the Buffalo railway ; in with you, my boy/ 
 and he lifted Alick, basket, carpet bag and all, into the 
 carriage ; Mabel and Murray followed ; Owen sprung up out 
 side, and they were off. 
 
 There are few tilings more trying to the patience, and more 
 exciting to the nerves, than driving through the crowded 
 streets of a city, fearful lest every moment's delay should pre 
 vent the departure on which one's hopes hang. During the 
 ten minutes that they were hurrying and rattling over the 
 pavements, Mabel endeavoured in vain to quiet her disturbed 
 feelings, and strove, with equal want of success, to soothe the 
 weeping Murray, while Alick silently watched his aunt's 
 countenance, as if it were the dial-plate of destiny. They 
 were barely in time after all ; there was just enough for the 
 luggage to be thrown hastily on board, and the last bell was 
 sounding ' o as Owen entered a carriage, with Murray in his 
 arms, followed by Mabel and Alick, almost breathless with 
 the haste they had made, and bearing between them the 
 basket and travelling bag, which Alick could not carry alone, 
 but which the sturdy boy was unwilling to relinquish. 
 
 This little incident served at once to excite Mabel's anxi- 
 
300 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 eties for the future, and to impress her with a sense of her 
 dependence on Owen. She felt sick at heart, as imagination 
 conjured up the possible disasters and delays which might 
 ensue before the termination of the journey, and, as the dark 
 ness of the night came on, and a thick gloom settled over 
 every object, an undefined dread took possession of her ; and 
 when Murray exclaimed, with convulsive sobbing, 6 Auntie, 
 Murray is tired, Murray can't ride all night,' she was 
 tempted to fold the child to her bosom, and weep with him 
 over their multiplied misfortunes. 
 
 $%Her weakness was rebuked, however, by the confiding tone 
 in which Alick responded to his brother's complaint, * I ain't 
 tired, Murray,' said he, 'I wouldn't mind going anywhere 
 with Aunt Mabel.' 
 
 ' I would,' said Murray. ' I want to go home.' 
 
 4 Let me take him a little while, Miss Vaughan,' said 
 Owen, who had observed his fretfulness ; ' I see he's getting 
 rather uneasy. "Will you come and sit by me, Murray ?' 
 
 The child hesitated, too thoroughly weary to have any pre 
 ference. 
 
 c I'll coax the little fellow off to sleep,' said Owen, lifting 
 him in his strong arms, and bearing him to his own seat ar 
 the further end of the carriage, where, wrapped in a heavy pilot- 
 cloth coat, and with his head resting on Owen's shoulder, ho 
 soon fell into a quiet slumber. Two or three hours passed 
 away. Alick, despite his efforts to the contrary, had fallen 
 asleep, though still sitting as upright as a grenadier, and 
 Mabel had once or twice forgotten her anxieties, and enjoyed 
 a few moments' repose, when a bright lig'lit shone in their 
 faces, and suddenly awaking, they discovered that the train 
 was stopping at a place of some importance, if one might 
 judge by the bustle which pervaded the platform in front of 
 the station. Murray, also, awakened by the noise and lights, 
 ran to his aunt, rubbing his eyes, and petitioning for some 
 thing to eat. 
 
 4 Milk, too, auntie I must have some milk,' he cried, as 
 she proceeded to open the luncheon-basket. 
 
 'No, Murray, I have no milk for you,' was the reply; ' a 
 cake will do without milk, won't it?' 
 
 4 1 can get him a glass of milk, or some water, at least, Miss 
 Vaughan,' said Owen, who was about to leave the car, and 
 paused to offer his services. * The train stops here five 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 301 
 
 minutes plenty of time, Miss. I'll hand it in at the win 
 dow.' 
 
 'Take my purse, Owen,' said Mabel, 'and pay for it, if 
 you please.' 
 
 The milk was brought to the window in a jug. Owen 
 had a tumbler in his hand, and all were by turns refreshed 
 with the sweet new milk. There was still a moment or two of 
 delay at the station ample time for the young man to re 
 turn, pay for the milk, and take his place in the cars. Still, 
 the bell rang, and the train proceeded on its way without his 
 having made his appearance. Mabel looked back with some 
 anxiety, but supposing that he had entered a carriage further 
 back than their own and would soon make his way to them, 
 she did not feel any positive alarm, and was therefore wholly 
 taken by surprise when a few moments after, the guard, as he 
 passed with his lantern in hand, held it up to her face and said 
 inquiringly. ' Wasn't that young fellow in the pilot-cloth coat 
 with you, ma'am ?' 
 
 6 Yes/ answered Mabel. ' Why ?' 
 
 * He got left behind at the last station,' said the man coolly. 
 
 * Got left behind !' exclaimed Mabel, repeating his words in 
 astonishment and fright, while Alick groaned aloud and 
 Murray set up a shrill and prolonged cry. 
 
 i Yes, they took some of his boxes out there by mistake, so 
 the baggage-master says, and he caught sight of 'em and 
 sprung off the platform just as we were starting.' 
 
 4 Couldn't you stop for him?' asked Mabel, in a tone of 
 mingled appeal and reproach. 
 
 fr Couldn't no how,' said the man, though speaking in a tone 
 of regret. ' We're behind our time now. If there's any 
 mistake it ain't our fault ; he couldn't have had his things 
 marked right in Albany. He'll come on to-morrow, I reckon.' 
 
 4 To-morrow,' thought Mabel, ' but where shall we be by 
 that time ?' And at the same instant the remembrance flashed 
 upon her that he was in possession of her purse, containing 
 all the money she had in the world. 
 
 ' What shall I do ?' was the involuntary exclamation which 
 burst from her lips as, trembling with agitation, she started 
 up impulsively, then in a despairing manner sank back into 
 her seat. 
 
 Can't we go on without him, auntie ?' asked Alick anx 
 iously, while Murray continued to cry, loudly threatening, 
 
302 MAliEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 amid his sobs, to ' beat that old guard and make him go back 
 for Owen/ 
 
 1 Oh, I don't know, Alick, what we shall do,' said Mabel, 
 the self-command which she had hitherto maintained in the 
 presence of the children forsaking her at this unforeseen crisis. 
 
 The interest and compassion of the other passengers were 
 evidently awakened. Many outstretched forms were suddenly 
 raised from a recumbent position, and many sleepy eyes turned 
 in the direction of the little group of travellers, while a mur 
 mur of inquiry and response ran through the car. The guard, 
 however, had passed hastily out with his lantern, and 
 as the feeble and expiring light from an ill-trimmed lamp 
 above afforded little satisfaction to curiosity, most of the weary 
 company soon subsided into their former dreamy state of 
 unconsciousness. 
 
 4 God will take care of us, auntie,' said Alick, in a comfort 
 ing tone ; l that old minister said so, and I believe him.' 
 
 4 So do I,' answered Mabel, drawing both the children as 
 closely to her as possible, and feejing, for the second time, 
 rebuked by Alick's child-like faith first in her, and now in a 
 higher power. 
 
 At the same instant, a voice proceeding from the seat 
 directly behind them, addressed Mabel in a tone of gentle but 
 earnest inquiry. * I have been asleep, my dear ; but, if I 
 understand rightly, your servant was left behind at Utica.' 
 
 ' Not my servant, except by choice,' answered Mabel, her 
 face as she turned being brought close to that of the person 
 who was leaning forward to speak to her, but whose features 
 v/ere undistinguishable in the dim light. 
 
 ' Oh, I was mistaken, then/ said the lady, apologetically. 
 * I only judged from appearances, when you came into the car 
 riage at dusk/ 
 
 ' Yes, it is not strange,' said Mabel ; l I don't wonder at it, 
 he was so kind to the boys and so civil to me. He was a 
 good friend, and we depended upon him, and now, now ' 
 
 Her voice choked ; she could not go on. 
 
 The old lady for the stranger was advanced in years 
 quietly rose, came forward, and taking the seat beside Mabel 
 from which Alick had risen in the moment of excitement, said 
 kindly, ' And do you need a friend now, my dear ?' 
 
 Mabel could not answer except by putting her hand into 
 that of the old lady, who Dressed it te^derlv. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 303 
 
 6 Are these your little brothers?' said she, drawing- Alick 
 toward her, and gently soothing Murray with the words, 
 ' Poor boy ! there, don't cry !' 
 
 'She's our auntie,' said Alick, proudly. 
 
 ' And where's mamma ?' 
 
 ' She's gone to another world,' answered Murray, promptly. 
 
 6 She died last Saturday,' whispered Aiick. 
 
 Their new friend uttered an exclamation of pity, and, grieved 
 at the result of her natural inquiry, forbore all further ques 
 tioning. 
 
 4 Poor little fellows ! you must both be tired,' said she. 
 * Come, I will put you to bed.' And rising, she beckoned to 
 a woman just behind them, and with her assistance proceeded 
 to carry her purpose into execution. l Don't stir ; we will 
 make them very comfortable,' she added, as Mabel proposed 
 to assist her. And taking advantage of some vacant seats 
 opposite, she spread upon them her own and the woman's sur 
 plus supply of shawls, and in a few moments the exhausted 
 children were disposed of for the rest of the night. 
 
 ' My child, you have, seen trouble, I fear,' said the benevo 
 lent lady, as, resuming her seat by Mabel, she passed one arm 
 round the young girl's waist, and drew her head upon her 
 shoulder. 
 
 Mabel had in some degree steeled herself [against the hard 
 ships and trials which she might encounter, but this unexpected 
 kindness wholly overpowered her ; the floodgates of her soul 
 were opened, and her tears poured forth like rain. Her judi 
 cious comforter did not attempt to restrain her. She well 
 knew the relief it sometimes is to weep, and without interrupt 
 ing her by a word, suffered her feelings to have vent. 
 
 ' Lie still, dear,' said she, as Mabel, having at length become 
 more composed, made a movement to sit upright. 
 
 ' You are very good ; but I shall tire and distress you.' 
 [ ' Do not disturb yourself on my account,' was the reply. 
 ' 1 only require a few hours' sleep, and I have had that already. 
 I want to see you take some rest.' 
 
 ' Oh, I cannot sleep/ said Mabel ; ' I am too unhappy/ 
 
 4 Perhaps I can help you,' said the old lady. ' There are 
 two sides to trouble, let us try and look at the bright side.' 
 
 4 1 never gave way so before,' said Mabel ; k and I know I 
 ought not now, but this seemed too much.' 
 
 '"Was this young man so essential to you, then, that you 
 cannot get on without him ?' 
 
304 MAIJEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 * He was very considerate and kind,' said Mabel. ' I shall 
 miss him and so will the boys ; but that is not the worst, he 
 has got all my money. I gave him my purse to pay for some 
 milk for the children just before he left the train,' 
 
 i Well, that is bad,' said the old lady, ' but not beyond 
 remedy. How far are you expecting- to travel ?' 
 
 Mabel named the town and county in the eastern part of 
 Illinois, which were her destination. 
 
 1 And you were to take the steamer at Buffalo ?' 
 
 * Yes, to-morrow night.' 
 
 ' There is no boat until the night following,' said tlie old 
 lady, confidently. ' I have made particular inquiries, as I am 
 to pursue the same route myself. So you see Owen will have 
 time to join you, and, meanwhile, you shall be under my care ; 
 and afterwards, too,' added she, ' if you can feel confidence in 
 an old lady who is a stranger to you, but who has seen much 
 of the world, and is an experienced traveller.' 
 
 Mabel thanked her heartily in her own name and the 
 children's. 
 
 ' Do not thank me,' said her kind friend, ' the benefit will 
 be mutual. I am fond of young people, and glad to be of use 
 in the world. If my three score years and ten can afford you 
 comfort and protection, then I have not grown old "in vain.' 
 
 * Oh, I cannot tell you the relief it will be, if you will only 
 let me keep within sight of you/ exclaimed Mabel, eagerly. 
 Then as she recalled the lady's previous allusion to her being 
 a stranger, she added, with simple candour, at the same time 
 lifting her head, and speaking with great earnestness, ' But 
 you are very good, ma'am, to feel confidence in me. It must 
 seem strange to you that I should be travelling so far, with the 
 charge of these children, and dependent myself upon a young 
 man who is not of my own station in life.' 
 
 ' Yes, a little singular, perhaps,' answered the lady, * but 
 no more so than many things which admit of easy explanation ; 
 or, even if I were still left to wonder at the circumstance, it 
 would not deter me from offering my aid to one who seems to 
 need it.' 
 
 ' May I tell you how it happened ?' asked Mabel. 
 
 * Certainly, my child, if you wish to do so. Tell me any 
 thing that you feel willing to confide to one old enough to be a 
 safe, but not too old to be a sympathizing friend.' 
 
 Thus encouraged, Mabel suffered her head to drop once 
 more nnon the shoulder of the tall and strongly-framed, though 
 
3,1 ABEL VAUGHAX. 305 
 
 venerable lady, and in the darkness of the night, and amid the 
 hush which prevailed among the sleepers who were stretched 
 around, she poured into her willing ear, in a low and broken 
 voice, the story of her recent family bereavements, and the 
 sufferings, responsibilities, and perplexities, which had ensued. 
 Her bitterest griefs and anxieties were such, indeed, as can be 
 breathed only in the ear of Heaven ; but the partial revelation 
 which she made was enough and more than enough to excite 
 all the tender compassion of her aged friend, as was evident 
 from the gentle expressions of condolence which escaped her, 
 and the affectionate solicitude with which she drew a cloak 
 round the weary girl, and now and then pressed her closer to 
 her side. So sweet, indeed, was this welcome assurance of 
 protection and sympathy, that, at length, the tale being ended r 
 and her aching heart, in some measure, relieved of its burden, 
 Mabel sank into a soft and refreshing sleep. 
 
 It was daylight when she awoke. The sun was streaming 
 through the carriage ; most of the passengers were sitting bolt 
 upright in their seats, their firm attitudes seeming to defy any 
 one who should accuse them of having slept a wink on the 
 journey ; and the whole scene was so different from that which 
 had prevailed a few hours before, that Mabel could riot for a 
 moment realize where she was, or whether the events of the 
 previous night had not all been a dream. There could be 
 nothing imaginary, however, in the friendly shoulder on which 
 her head was comfortably pillowed, nor could anything be 
 more kind and cordial than the smile which reassured her, as 
 starting up, she suddenly exclaimed, ' Why, how long I have 
 lain here ! How I must have tired you !' 
 
 ' No, you have not tired me in the least. I am rejoiced 
 that you have slept so long. How do you feel this morning, 
 my dear ?' 
 
 But Mabel did not seem to heed the kind inquiry. Her 
 eyes \vere fixed earnestly on the face of her new friend, while 
 a glow of pleasure radiated her features. There could be no 
 mistaking that benevolent countenance, that dignified form, 
 those silver curls peeping from the snowy fluting of the widow's 
 cap, above all, that cheering and animating smile ; and, snatch 
 ing the hand of the good lady, Mabel pressed it to her lips, 
 exclaiming, ' You are not a stranger after all ! I have seen 
 you before. You are Mrs. Abraham Percival !' 
 
 6 Do you know me, then ?* was the reply. { That is pleasant. 
 
 x 
 
306 31 ABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 I have been studying your face, my dear, and thought it 
 seemed familiar, but you must help my memory a little. I 
 cannot recall the name.' 
 
 ( Mabel Vaughan ; but perhaps you have never heard the 
 whole name.' 
 
 Madam Percival shook her head. c No,' said she, after a 
 moment's thought, * never ; but I once knew a Miss Vaughan, 
 perhaps a relation of yours. She must be somewhat advanced 
 in age if she is still living, which I presume to be the case, as I 
 exchanged cards with her in New York last winter, though we 
 had not the pleasure of meeting. We used to call her Sabiah, 
 in her younger days.' 
 
 c My aunt,' faltered Mabel a new light dawning upon her 
 in reference to the memorable visit, which had, as it proved, 
 been so wholly misinterpreted. 
 
 ' Ah ! then you are a daughter of her brother John. You 
 see,' added she, with her winning smile, ( we old-fashioned 
 folks never forget relationships ; however, I lived in your 
 father's native town some years ; I was an assistant teacher in 
 the village academy, and your aunt was one of my pupils.' 
 
 ' Was she, indeed ?' said Mabel, with interest. 4 Dear Aunt 
 Sabiah, how she would like to see you !' 
 
 ' I was in hopes to revive our acquaintance last winter,' 
 said Madam Percival. * I have always continued to feel an 
 interest in your aunt, and as I happened to learn her address 
 in New York, through one of her village friends, I took an 
 early opportunity to call ; but I think it probable she has 
 nearly or wholly forgotten me, or perhaps would only recog 
 nise me by my maiden name.' 
 
 * She never knew of your visit/ said Mabel, with a blush 
 of mortification, ( she never had a chance of knowing. I had 
 the vanity to take it to myself, and I was the Miss Vaughan 
 who left a card at your door. Oh, how sorry I am !' 
 
 A shade of disappointment passed over Madam Percival's 
 countenance also, for a moment, then she exclaimed quickly, 
 as if anxious to relieve Mabel's evident regret, 'It was 
 very natural, however. Your aunt probably lived a retired 
 life.' 
 
 1 Yes, very,' said Mabel ; ' but she would have been so glad 
 to see you.' 
 
 * Ah, well !' said Madam Percival, ' do not lament it too 
 seriously, my child. Time has made great changes with us 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX 307 
 
 both, and the meeting- might not have been wholly pleasur 
 able. But tell me, my dear, where it is that I have seen your 
 face before.' 
 
 Mabel named the occasion. 
 
 ' Yes, indeed, I remember now,' said Madam Percival, 
 with evident pleasure in the recollection. * You were my 
 grandson's partner in the country dance. Ah ! that was a 
 pleasant evening. We all enjoyed it much.' 
 
 This reference to her own enjoyment, and that of her 
 friends, led Mabel to speak in grateful terms of one of their 
 number, the good clergyman, to whom she \vas so much in 
 debted. Madam Percival was deeply interested by the young- 
 girl's narrative of his deeds of Christian charity, and by the 
 time it was concluded, the boys awoke, eager to make an 
 attack upon the luncheon. Madam Percival left room for 
 the children beside their aunt, by herself returning to the 
 seat next the female attendant, who was the companion of her 
 journey, and for some hours the ordinary events of travelling 
 succeeded. 
 
 ' We shall soon be in Buffalo, my dear,' said Madam 
 Percival at length, leaning forward and laying her hand on 
 Mabel's shoulder, to attract her attention. 
 
 Mabel, thus suddenly roused from a sad and painful reverie, 
 into which she had fallen, . a train of thought suggested no 
 doubt by the disclosures and coincidences of the morning, 
 started, turned, and said, in an abstracted manner, * Yes, and 
 what shall we do then ?' 
 
 ' Whatever you like, my poor, tried child ; you need rest 
 and refreshment for body and mind. I was thinking where 
 we could best find it.' 
 
 i Wherever you please,' said Mabel. ' I shall be only too 
 contented and thankful to stay with you.' 
 
 ' Have you ever been to Niagara ?' 
 
 ' Never, ma'am,' answered Mabel, with a slight tremulous- 
 ness in her voice, at the mention of a spot she had once so 
 yearned to visit, but which was now associated with many a 
 bitter memory. 
 
 ' We shall have twenty- four hours to spare before the steam 
 boat leaves,' said Madam Percival. ' I have consulted my 
 little friend here' (and she tapped with her spectacles the rail- 
 road~guide which she held in her hand), ' and find that we can, 
 if we ciioose, proceed directly to Niagara, and remain there 
 
 x 2 
 
308 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 until within a few hours of the boat's sailing-. It will be an 
 uncomfortable night in the city. I am well known at the 
 Cataract House, and we shall be sure of every outward com 
 fort, to say nothing- of the inexpressible pleasure of having a 
 glimpse at the Falls. Do you like the plan ?' 
 
 ' I don't know,' said Mabel, hesitating. ' I would rather 
 you should decide.' 
 
 * You can scarcely be expected to have any preference under 
 the circumstances, my dear/ said Madam Percival, laying her 
 hand anxiously on Mabel's flushed cheek, ' but I am convinced 
 there could be no better prescription for you than the one I 
 recommend. The boys require rest and fresh cool air to 
 invigorate them after the journey, but you need something 
 more ; it is a tired heart and brain which sends this feverish 
 blood to your cheek, rather than any physical fatigue, though 
 you have had your share of that. You are my guests for the 
 present, my adopted children I would say, and so I feel 
 myself at liberty to study your wants, and endeavour to supply 
 them. Besides,' added she, with a persuasiv-e smile and tone, 
 which made it almost appear that she was begging, instead of 
 conferring a favour, ' we old folks, who pride ourselves on our 
 experience, love to try our favourite remedies ; so, if you 
 leave the decision to me, we will try whether Niagara air, 
 notwithstanding the additional fatigue of going on to the 
 Falls, will not revive you more than staying quietly in the 
 city.' 
 
 Understanding at once the disinterestedness of this scheme, 
 which was evidently arranged to turn the channel of her 
 thoughts from the sorrows on which they had been dwelling, 
 Mabel hastened to deprecate the idea of her aged friend's 
 incurring any unnecessary fatigue on her account; but 
 Madam Percival assured her that she never suffered from the 
 effects of travelling, and that in the present case the necessity 
 for one day's delay rendered the temptation to visit the Falls 
 irresistible, apart from the satisfaction it would be to introduce 
 her young friends to one of the grandest wonders of nature, in 
 which, as Americans, they had all a common birthright. 
 
 So the excursion was determined on ; and night found them 
 established in a comfortable hotel, where, within hearing of 
 the roar of the mighty cataract, they all experienced the 
 welcome rest which weary travellers crave. 
 
( 309 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 My. soul were dark 
 
 But for the golden light and rainbow hue 
 That, sweeping heaven with their triumphal arc, 
 
 Break on the view. 
 
 Enough to feel 
 
 That God indeed is good ! enough to know 
 Without the gloomy clouds he could reveal 
 
 No beauteous bow. 
 
 WILLIAM CROSSWELL. 
 
 AT an early hour, the next morning, a pleasant voice was 
 heard outside Mabel's door, saying, softly, i Are you awake, 
 my dear?' and was answered by Mabel's presenting herself, 
 already dressed and equipped for going out. 
 
 ' You are on the alert, I see,' said Madam Percival, who 
 also wore her bonnet and shawl, as if prepared for a walk. ' I 
 thought I heard your step in the room, or I would not have 
 disturbed you. How have you slept?' 
 
 ' Very soundly until daylight ; but then I awoke, and, 
 hearing the noise of the Falls, could not resist going out to see 
 them before breakfast.' 
 
 ' Ah, you are a girl after my own heart/ said Madam 
 Percival, drawing Mabel's arm through hers. ' I have left 
 word with my woman, Mrs. Patten, to go in and attend to the 
 children's wants, whenever they awake, so you need feel no 
 anxiety about them ;' and the old and the young lady left the 
 hotel together. 
 
 * This is the direction leading to the bridge over the rapids,' 
 said Madam Percival, when they had gained a side street. ' I 
 see an old acquaintance of mine that Indian woman, just 
 opening her little store of wares across there she knows 
 me ;' and Madam Percival bowed in kindly recognition to the 
 dusky squaw, whose face was full of eagerness. ' I must go 
 
310 3IABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 and speak to her. Do not wait for me ; I will overtake you.' 
 Thus speaking-, Madam Percival crossed the road leading to 
 the bridge, ana Mabel proceeded alone. 
 
 How tumultuous and how mingled was the rushing tide of 
 thought which assailed her during that short, lonely walk ! 
 The time, the place, the solitude how suggestive were they 
 all ! How many of her childhood's hopes, her girlish antici 
 pations had centred in Niagara ! How fondly had she 
 looked forward to this fulfilment of her early dreams ! How 
 little had she foreseen the cruel chain of circumstances which 
 had brought her to the spot at last, disappointed, forsaken, and 
 bereaved. A moment more, and, in the stillness of the morn 
 ing, for the sun had not yet risen, she found herself alone on 
 the bridge, beneath which flowed the angry torrent. Panting 
 from exercise, breathless with her own agitating reflections, 
 and dumb with astonishment and awe, she stood, with parted 
 lips, gazing up at that gigantic slope, down which, in wild 
 and frantic speed, the waters were hastening to their fearful 
 plunge. Whence came they and whither did they go 
 those marl, triumphant waves scorning all opposition, beat 
 ing down all obstacles, like the very messengers of doom ! An 
 instinctive dread took possession of Mabel's mind, as, gazing 
 long and fixedly at these witnesses to G od's power and majesty, 
 she saw in them types of those recent events, which, bearing- 
 down like a mighty flood and overwhelming her beneath a 
 torrent of trouble, had left her to struggle helplessly with 
 the current. ' All thy waves and thy billows have gone over 
 me, great God !' she exclaimed aloud, at length withdrawing 
 her gaze from a scene whose sublime and solemn grandeur 
 was, to the excited girl, almost lost in a nervous sense of terror. 
 
 Then, as the roar still continued sounding in her ears, an 
 irresistible impulse seized her to hasten on and witness the end, 
 which, at present, she could image to herself only as a dire 
 catastrophe ; and, as if fearful that, by a moment's delay, she 
 should lose something of the awful spectacle which she half 
 longed, half dreaded to behold, she began to run, and, 
 without pausing to take breath, continued at the same rapid 
 pace until she suddenly gained an elevated point, where, at a 
 glance, she could discern the two rival divisions of the far- 
 famed cataract. She gazed for an instant only at the dark 
 and angry waters, on which the sun, now just below the verge 
 of the horizon, had not yet shed his beams, and which, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 311 
 
 plunging clown the fearful vortex, seemed to her bewildered 
 senses to utter only a message of stern and angry wrath ; then 
 throwing herself on the ground, wich her face hid against a 
 huge overhanging rock, she burst into a fit of passionate and 
 uncontrollable weeping. Pier excited feelings having thus 
 found vent, however, and her strained nerves being relieved 
 by this free and natural outburst, she soon became more 
 calm, and at length lay quite still, listening, without terror, 
 to the roar of the waters, when, suddenly, she heard, close 
 beside her, in measured and familiar accents, the solemn 
 words, ' And I heard, as it were, the voice of a great 
 multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice 
 of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia ; for the Lord God 
 omnipotent reigneth.' 
 
 There was a pause ; then a long-drawn sigh escaped Mabel, 
 and attracted the attention of Madam Percival, who had not 
 until then perceived her. 
 
 ' What ! are you here before me, and in rny favourite spot, 
 my child ?' exclaimed she ; then seeing the despairing attitude 
 arid covered face of Mabel, and at once conjecturing that, in the 
 weak state of her nervous system, she had been overcome by 
 the scene, she sat down beside her and said, in a self-reproving 
 tone, ' Ah ! I should not have let you come here alone.' 
 
 ' It frightens me,' said Mabel, with a shudder. ' I should 
 not have minded the fall so much, but those dreadful rapids !' 
 and again a slight shudder passed over her frame. ' It seemed 
 as if everything were pouring down at once just as just as ' 
 
 ' Just as trouble comes upon us poor mortals, you would 
 say, my dear.' 
 
 ' Yes, I could not help thinking of myself.' 
 
 ' I have often had the same thought,' said Madam Percival, 
 soothingly ; ' but I have also found here a lesson of faitli and 
 hope, which has fortified me in the hour of trouble, and which 
 I trusted you would have learned here, too. Often are we 
 borne through the rushing waves of anxiety, suspense, and 
 pain, arid plunged at last down the gulf of a mighty sorrow ; 
 but let us not be faithless or despairing. He who has meted 
 out the bounds of the earth has said to human suffering, as to 
 the mighty torrent, " Thus far shalt thou go and no further ;" 
 and even^amid the shock of a great calamity, we know that 
 the raging torrent of affliction is spanned by the rainbow of 
 His love. Look up, my dear, look up/ 
 
312 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 Mabel lifted her head quickly, as her attention was thus 
 earnestly claimed, and above the watery abyss, which a few 
 moments before had been so dark and fearful, a glorious rain 
 bow danced and quivered in the beams of the newly-risen sun; 
 and, as the glittering spray caught and reflected the light in 
 new forms of radiance, another and another brilliant arch 
 stretched its graceful curve across the foaming flood. 
 
 A smile of joy flashed out from Mabel's face, effecting in it 
 a transformation scarcely less striking than that which had so 
 suddenly been wrought in the face of nature ; she clasped her 
 hands, and stood for some moments in perfect silence. 
 
 Madam Percival watched the play of her features with 
 affectionate interest ; and, as the anxious and troubled expres 
 sion of her countenance was gradually superseded by the glow 
 of a heavenly peace, she said in a low and fervent tone, 
 ' Ah ! my child, it is only when the light of the Sun of Right 
 eousness comes to illumine our darkened hearts, that we can 
 comprehend the love of Him who is continually confirming 
 his ancient promise " It shall come to pass when I bring a 
 -cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud." * 
 
 i I have realized it many times,' said Mabel, eagerly ; i I 
 realize it now.' 
 
 ' It is shining in your face, my love,' said Madam Percival. 
 ' Come, let us go back to the hotel, and cheer with it the little 
 orphan hearts which must look to you henceforward to be the 
 sunshine of their lives.' 
 
 4 You were in too much agitation this morning,' said 
 Madam Percival, ' to take much interest in a scene that was 
 present to my mind as we looked upon the rapids, but I 
 think I must tell it you now. I said that I had often been at 
 the Falls ; it must be nine or ten years since what I am going 
 to tell you about happened during one of my visits. You 
 noticed the small rocks that come up to the surface in the 
 current just above the rapids. Of course they form obstacles 
 to the drift-wood and rubbish that is constantly being borne 
 down the stream ; and this accumulation of stray substances 
 has in time formed some of these rocks into islands. There is 
 one of the largest just in the middle of the rushing waters 
 where the impetuous torrent is fullest and widest, not half a 
 mile from the Falls. It is covered with brushwood, and even 
 some trees of a tolerable growth. I was walking on the 
 shore one day, and came to the road just opposite to this 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 313 
 
 island. There I saw a hundred or so of people collected ; 
 now still and breathless, now moved about as by some common 
 sympathy. What could be the matter? I walked hastily up ; 
 and then, looking by sympathy to the point on which all eyes 
 seemed fixed, I saw two men on this island two Irishmen, 
 as they told me, who, ignorant of the force of the rapids, had 
 undertaken to cross the river in a boat, going to their day's 
 work, as I think they said, at a point too near the Falls for 
 any one but a stranger to attempt. Their boat had long 
 since been whirled away over the Falls. They were saved as 
 by a miracle ; they had been carried by the force of the 
 stream, dashing against this piece of resistance this little 
 island, not two hundred yards off, and had sprung out on the 
 safe ground, as it were, by instinct ; but it seemed but like 
 exchanging one kind of death for another. They were safe 
 from the Falls ; but no human being had ever set foot on that 
 island, surrounded by the whirling floods; it seemed beyond 
 the power of man to reach it how much the more to escape 
 from it ! Any one who attempted it would be carried down a 
 short t\vo minutes' agony of swift relentless torrent, and then 
 God pity the state of that creature dashed down the Falls ! 
 The thought of that ghastly sweep of waters made the little 
 crowd silent and motionless, even while looking on at the 
 passionate gestures (no doubt accompanied by many words 
 and cries, that were utterly lost in the roar of many waters) 
 of the two men, who, now kneeling now standing up and 
 tossing their arms aloft in the air now down again on their 
 pleading knees, their heads buried in their hands, as if trying 
 to drown the perpetual rush of the resounding torrent, and to 
 speak their last earthly words to God with clear and steady 
 minds. Oh, my God! what could we helpless men do for 
 these, our brothers ? Through the crowd came a cry ; it 
 cleft our murmured whispered words like a sharp flaming 
 sword ; it was the wife of one of the doomed men. 
 
 ' " Are you blind, lame, stocks and stones?', she said, as she 
 would have waded deep into the tossing waters if two or three 
 strong men had not held her by main force. 6 (l He has seven 
 children, the youngest a sucking babe. Hearken to him !" 
 For she heard him, or thought she heard him. " For the love 
 of God !" he cries ' for the love of the blessed Virgin, send 
 3ielp. Patrick ! Patrick !" she screeched, as if he could 
 hear "are ye thinking- on the blessed Lady of many sorrows 
 
314 MABEL y A ix ; 11 AX. 
 
 in the little church of Droughadmore at home ? Oh !" said 
 she, dropping- her voice, u that we had never left our home, 
 and the oul' parents, who blessed us when we left, and are 
 thinking- on us now, little dreaming what a death lies hefore 
 us ; for if he dies, I will die, and God help the orphans I" 
 
 'Suddenly a man came up, stripped to his trousers. I 
 believe he had been in the crowd before, only I had not 
 noticed him. He was a fine, stalwart young- fellow, with a 
 rope tied round his waist, and the end of the coil in the hands 
 of another man. Two or three were following him, evidently 
 dissuading him from undertaking such a tremendous risk, as 1 
 saw in his flaming eye and compressed lip he himself believed 
 it to be. They were speaking low and earnestly. I only 
 caught one piece of his answer. " Take care of my old 
 mother, boys ; but that I know you will. Yon man out there 
 has wife and children. I have none." Then he came up to 
 the passionate, woful woman, and told her that, by God's 
 help, he would strive to save her husband, and bade her bless 
 him before he went. She looked him steadily in the face for 
 a moment, as if reading his soul, and then lifted up her arms 
 and blessed him. " God be with thee in thy going out and in 
 thy coming in ; in the deep waters, as on the dry land ; in the 
 struggle of thy life, as in the deeper struggle of thy death ! 
 God be with thee evermore. His will be done !" 
 
 1 And as if the reference to God had calmed the tumult of 
 her despair, or it might be from pure physical exhaustion, she 
 sat down mutely and meekly, cowered down by the side of the 
 terrible stream, and buried her head in her gown-tail, which 
 she had worn like many of her countrywomen in lieu of a 
 cloak or shawl. 
 
 * The young man, and he who held the end of the coil of 
 rope, began to ascend the course of the torrent. We lest 
 sight of them for a time. We held our breaths. The only 
 sound that broke the dread silence that coexisted with the 
 rush and crash of the torrent were the low, muttered prayers 
 of the poor Irishwoman, as we heard her telling her beads. 
 At length some one cried out, " There he is !" and sure 
 enough, high up at the bend of the river, we saw a little black 
 scallop shell of a boat, steered or sculled (I don't know which 
 you call it) by one man ; it was whirled and tossed and 
 thrown hither and thither by the white foaming rapids, not 
 yet where he was at their full force, but gathering fury 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 315 
 
 every yard that he neared the island, still two or three 
 hundred yards away. All the steersman's energy and power 
 seemed reserved for the one action of tacking from rock to 
 rock, so that at each obstacle he could take breath, and 
 re-arrange the boat. He was drifted swiftly from rock to 
 rock. At times we feared his strength would not suffice to 
 guide his little boat to the next point of land among the 
 seething waters, and that we should see him borne past us 
 like lightning, carried hopelessly to the Falls by the tre 
 mendous rapid. At times we lost him behind the scrubby 
 brushwood that grew here and there on an islet larger than the 
 others ; but at length the last passage was made ; he was 
 there on the island. We saw him rousing and comforting the 
 men, who by this time had sunk into the weakness and the 
 stupor of despair. He cheered them up, he patted their 
 backs ; he pointed to us, or rather to the poor shrouded wife, 
 still praying with hidden eyes. Then at last we watched 
 him cut down some tree branches, and lay them in the bottom 
 of the boat we could not imagine why and then there was 
 some arrangement of the rope he had taken with him. I 
 hardly know how for by this time the poor wife had gone 
 down to the ground with a heavy fall and a long sobbing 
 groan in a dead faint, from which no efforts of mine could 
 rouse her nothing, in short, but her husband, as saved and 
 rescued by that brave young man he stood by her, and took 
 her in his arms, and cheered her and comforted her by the 
 sound of that voice she thought never to hear more.' 
 
 4 And the young man what became of the young man ?' 
 asked Mabel. 
 
 ' Why,' (and Madam Percival's eyes were wet with tears, 
 although her mouth was smiling,) ' we did not know how 
 to make enough of him some of us blessed him, and some of 
 us shook him by the hand, he, all the time, trying to get rid 
 of us, and making light of his daring, and at last escaping from 
 us, under pretence of needing to change his clothes, which 
 were indeed wet through with the spray, and the dashing 
 waters. When he was out of sight the oldest man amongst 
 the crowd took off his hat, and just thanked God in as few 
 and simple words as you can well imagine ; and then held the 
 hat to us all, without another word of explanation. We 
 knew what it was for ; for while the young man had been 
 gone up the wooded shore, before he had embarked upon the 
 
316 MABEL YAUGIIAX. 
 
 roaring waters, we could not have spoken a word then it 
 had been bruited that he was a poor working 1 lad, who main 
 tained his old mother by daily labour, and we longed to 
 make his life a bit easier to him henceforth. So one put in 
 a watch as pledge for something more, and many put in 
 dollars, and some few put in cents, (with tears that they had 
 no more to give,) and altogether there were from three to 
 four hundred dollars either paid or promised, by the time he 
 came out of the kind of public-house into which he had gone 
 to change his clothes. Those who were on the watch for him 
 brought him to us again, unwilling and sheep-faced, though 
 he [did not know why we wanted him. Then the old man 
 (who would fain have made a speech only words failed him) 
 shoved the hat into his hands, and burst into tears. 
 
 4 The young fellow looked at the money looked round at 
 us all- and then quietly placed the hat on the ground. 
 
 1 " Thank you all, kindly,' said he, " but I can't take it." 
 He gave no reason ; only replied over and over again in the 
 same words. " Thank you kindly, but I can't take it." We 
 could do nothing at the moment ; but it was suggested, (and 
 the idea was followed out,) that the house in which his mother 
 lived, and the rent of which he had to pay, should be bought, 
 -and given to the old woman, before he knew anything 
 about it. 
 
 * Meanwhile he said in a simple and straightforward 
 manner enough, u I cut a few stems, and brandies down from 
 yon place. I thought as rio man had ever been there before to 
 my knowledge no one might happen to go there again ; and 
 they might be kind of curiosities in the way of walking-sticks. 
 I reckon to make six or seven of 'em, and I hope they will 
 not be thought too high priced at half a dollar each." 
 
 ' You may be sure there was a rush for them ; and many a 
 one cried, " Let them be put up to auction." But no ! the first 
 bidders had them ; and no begging or entreaty could make 
 .him take more than half a dollar for each.' 
 
 4 Is it not grand? is it not encouraging and ennobling?' 
 said Madam Percival, when, some hours later, they sat together 
 on the flat surface of Table Rock, watching the gigantic waters 
 of the Horse Shoe Fall. ' In the course of a long life, I have . 
 visited this spot many times, and I have invariably gone away 
 refreshed and strengthened, as if I had been listening to the 
 voice of a sacred oracle. Especially when the chastening of 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 317 
 
 God's providence was heavy upon me, have I been cheered 
 by this glorious proclamation of the truth, that His power 
 goes hand in hand with His love.' 
 
 * I cannot thank you enough for bringing me here/ said 
 Mabel ; ' it is a remembrance for a life-time.' 
 
 ' I confess,' said the old lady, t my first thought was merely 
 to divert your mind from dwelling too much on your recent 
 trials. I did not realize how fully you were open to impres 
 sions from nature. Now I cannot be too thankful that I 
 thought of bringing you here, where you might feel as it 
 were God's presence in the midst of all this tumult of 
 troubled waters. Remember that His Holy Spirit is equally 
 present when our own souls are restless and disturbed ; and 
 when we seem borne onward to despair by the rapid force of 
 circumstances. Remember in those days that come to all, 
 and are even now present with you, where to look for help. 
 Mistaken as I believe that poor Irishwoman's creed to have 
 been, there was something worthy of our imitation in the way 
 in which, in her keen anxiety, she isolated herself from all 
 contemplation of her worldly cares, and shut herself up as it 
 were with God. Besides, my child, you have a noble mission 
 before you.' 
 
 ' You mean the care of the children,' said Mabel, observing 
 that Madam Percival's eye was fixed upon the boys, who were 
 playing at a little distance. 
 
 ' Yes, the training of these young minds and hearts is 
 an office of true dignity and greatness, and one in which you 
 have all my sympathy. I, too, have educated boys, and my 
 work is not yet finished. If I read those little fellows' charac 
 ters aright, your responsibility is as great as your influence is 
 unbounded. That eldest child loves you with a devotion which 
 I have rarely seen equalled in one of his years. It is through 
 that love that he must learn to cherish those universal sym 
 pathies, in which I suspect him to be deficient ; and that happy, 
 affectionate, beautiful, spoiled little Murray yonder, who is at 
 this moment attracting the attention of strangers, will develop 
 impulses and propensities of so wide a range, that all the ardour 
 of his nature must be early taught to concentrate itself on 
 what is right. Remember, my dear, that your counsels may 
 rule in many generations of hearts.' 
 
 A shade of earnest thought and holy resolution was stamped 
 on Mabel's attentive face, as, with her eyes intently fixed on 
 
318 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 the children, she listened to the solemn charge of her experi 
 enced and venerable friend. It would have been difficult to 
 pronounce which was the nobler countenance of the two ; that 
 of the benevolent and Christian matron who thus uttered the 
 words of warning and of wisdom, or that of the enthusiastic 
 and truth-loving- girl, into whose heart they sunk with a deep 
 and lasting "power. Madam Percival gazed into the earnest 
 face of Mabel, and her heart warmed anew towards her, as 
 she read in every expressive feature a hopeful prophecy for 
 the future, a prophecy which after vears saw gloriously ful 
 filled. 
 
 We pass over the departure from Niagara, after a visit 
 which, though brief, was memorable to at least two of the 
 little company, between whom there had, then and there, been 
 sealed the compact of a friendship, rendered the more sacred 
 by the wide difference in their years. All were refreshed 
 and strengthened for continuing the journey ; and the joy of 
 the children, and the relief and satisfaction of Mabel, were 
 complete, when, at the steamboat-wharf in Buffalo, they met 
 Owen, who, poor fellow, had suffered the most intense anxiety 
 on their account, and who at once became a sharer in their 
 gratitude to Madam Percival, as was evident from his clumsy 
 but honest expression of thanks, and still more from his un 
 wearied and deferential services to her during the remainder 
 of the journey. ' Upon my word, Ma'am,' said he, ' when I 
 found they were off, and nobody to see to 'em, I was e'en 
 a'most crazen ; and when, to crown the whole, I found Miss 
 Vaughan's purse in my pocket, I believe I went clean mad. 
 Why, I'd a fired one of the engines, and come off on my own 
 hook, but 'twas no use ; I just had to cool down and learn 
 patience by waitin'. But I see, and bless the Lord for it too, 
 the young lady wa'n't without a protector, nor never will be 
 in this world, I've a notion, sartin not if she has her deserts; 
 and I make bold to thank you for your goodness on my own 
 account, Ma'am, and for the relief it is to my conscience;' and 
 taking off his hat and bowing, as he had been wont to bow to 
 Rosy, he drew back a step and added, ' Owen Dowst's your 
 servant for life, Ma'am.' Madam Percival was one who 
 could appreciate the simplicity and worth of Mabel's humble 
 escort ; and before their travels together were at an end, he 
 had learned to look upon this lady, as almost every one did 
 who came under her influence, as a reliable friend. She 
 

 MABEL VAUGHAX. 319 
 
 talked intelligently with him of farms, stock, and crops ; gave 
 him much valuable information regarding Western life, and 
 when he finally ventured to consult her with reference to the 
 investment of his little property, she entered into his schemes 
 with as ready an interest as if she had been a professed land- 
 agent and he a wealthy speculator. 
 
 Thus all went on happily and harmoniously, and Mabel, 
 with Madam Percival for her counsellor and friend, Owen as 
 the devoted attendant of herself and the children, and with 
 Mrs. Patten, who shared all the interests of her beloved 
 mistress, to minister to her wants, and relieve her of little 
 cares, almost sighed as she thought how soon she must part 
 from these valued and tried friends of her adversity. 
 
 The last night of their sojourn in each other's company was 
 passed on board a canal-boat. The children had gone to 
 sleep in the cabin ; Mrs. Patten was watching beside them ; 
 Owen, at the stern of the boat, was giving voluntary aid in 
 the stowing of some freight, and Madam Percival and Mabel 
 were seated on deck, holding the last of those pleasant and 
 valuable conversations which they had enjoyed together. 
 
 ' I am glad you like this Western country,' said Madam 
 Percival, ' and that you do not feel discouraged by its yet 
 rough arid undeveloped character. It is a great field, and one 
 in which comparatively little has yet been accomplished. You 
 will find much that is strange, uncouth, and utterly at variance 
 with all your preconceived ideas ; but to a noble mind there is 
 a satisfaction in overcoming difficulties, and every effort is 
 sure to find its reward in a land which makes such a rich 
 return for the labour bestowed on it.' 
 
 * It excites all my enthusiasm/ said Mabel. i I have felt, 
 a hundred times on our journey, as if I would gladly stop 
 short at any given point, and remain a year or more, to watch 
 the progress, which could almost be seen in passing, and of 
 which I hear such wonderful accounts on every side.' 
 
 ' Say, rather,' said Madam Percival, ' to take part in that 
 progress. Do not consider yourself excluded by your age or 
 sex from exerting an active influence on the growth and true 
 civilization of any spot in which you are either temporarily or 
 permanently a resident. In a country whose physical deve 
 lopment is so unexampled as this, too much effort cannot be 
 made to insure a proportionate advance in moral and spiritual 
 growth. It may be that your influence and example must be 
 
320 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 confined to a narrow circle ; but do not forget that, however 
 restricted may be your sphere, it is woman's peculiar privilege 
 and province to exert herself so as to sanctify the ruder labours 
 of life, and to shed abroad a nobler ambition than that of 
 building cities in the wilderness, and subduing the elements 
 to human will. Above all, my dear, do not consider your 
 life in the West a period of exile ; this is but a part of 
 our mother country, destined, in time perhaps, to become in 
 its influence, what it already is in its locality the centre and 
 heart of the republic.' 
 
 ' I am already accustoming myself,' said Mabel, to look 
 upon it as my future home, for such it may eventually be 
 come.' 
 
 ' Make it a home, my dear,' said Madam Percival, t for 
 yourself and your family; at least, while you remain in it, 
 give it your affection and your best efforts, it is the only 
 way to render it a happy residence or a useful one. I have 
 homes in several parts of our country, and it would be hard 
 for me to say which I love best. It is now fifteen years since 
 I accompanied my husband into this, which was then quite 
 unsettled, region. He was one of the pioneers of civiliza 
 tion ; and the affection which I then conceived for this 
 western valley has continued in full force ever since. It has 
 been with great satisfaction that I have made successive 
 pilgrimages hither, and now that I have perhaps come to 
 finish my days in this land of promise, I do not feel willing 
 to consider it the home of my adoption, but simply my native 
 soil.' 
 
 ' If you were only to be near me,' said Mabel. ' it would be 
 such a comfort ; your counsel would be so precious.' 
 
 ' Forty miles is not counted a very great distance in this 
 part of the world, my dear ; and that, as nearly as I can judge, 
 is the distance between your father's estate and that of my 
 son. My hand, owing to x>ne of the infirmities of age, has 
 recently been disabled from writing, but I shall find a way, 
 one of these days, to communicate with my young friends, and 
 shall always be rejoiced to hear from you in return. But, 
 good night ; I will not keep you up any longer to listen to an 
 old woman's preaching.' 
 
 Before morning they had reached the bustling western city 
 where their united route terminated. Mabel and the children 
 took passage in the clumsy carriage in which they were to 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 321 
 
 commence their last day's journey ; Owen set out for another 
 part of the country ; and Madam Percival, having seen her 
 adopted charges on their way, proceeded to the house of a 
 friend, where she was to await her son's arrival in the city. 
 
 It was a cold, rainy, and uncomfortable evening, when with 
 the horses weary and steaming, and the children exhausted 
 with cold and fatigue, Mabel, almost hopeless of ever reaching 
 their destination, which had seemed all day to recede as they 
 advanced, at length heard from the driver the joyful words, 
 ' That ere's Mr. Vaughan's house where you see the light 
 over yonder.' 
 
 * Don't cry ; we are almost there, Murray !' she exclaimed, 
 encouragingly, to the poor weeping child, who, sadly feeling 
 the want of Madam Percival's shawls and Owen's pilot-cloth 
 coat, was shivering with the cold, from which all Mabel's care 
 could ill protect him, and who, hungry, dissatisfied, and out of 
 humour, had complained and cried bitterly for the last half 
 hour. l Look over there, beyond the river, that is grand 
 papa's house ; you will soon see him and uncle Harry.' 
 
 4 1 don't want to see them! I hate this place! I won't 
 stay here !' sobbed Murray. 
 
 'It will be better than riding all night, though, Murray, 
 won't it?' said Alick, in the same patient, philosophical tone 
 which the little man had maintained from the commencement 
 of the journey. 
 
 ' Ye'll have to get out here and step up a piece,' said the 
 driver, halting within a few rods of the house. ' My road 
 turns off here to the post-office, and these horses is dead beat, 
 that's a fact.' 
 
 Mabel needed no second bidding ; she was only too glad to 
 trust to her own feet, to which eagerness lent wings, and in 
 an instant more, with Murray in her arms and Alick close 
 beside her, she hastened in the direction of the light, opened 
 the unlocked door of the house, and entered. She found her 
 self in a dark passage, and was groping for the inner door, 
 when it was suddenly thrown open ; and, with a cry of joy, 
 she set Murray on the floor, and flung her arms around the 
 neck of her astonished brother. 
 
 Had it been the ghost of Mabel, instead of Mabel herself, it 
 could have created no greater surprise and consternation. Mr. 
 Vaughan, who was sitting in an arm-chair by the fire, turned 
 his head as Harry uttered her name, and seeing his daughter 
 
322 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 before him, became pale, tried twice to rise from his seat, then 
 sank back as if seized by sudden giddiness, while a look of 
 deep distress passed over his haggard features. 
 
 * Mabel here !' was his exclamation. 
 
 She had thrown herself on the floor beside him, and with 
 both arms resting on his knee, was looking earnestly in his 
 face before he had finished speaking the words. ' Yes, father, 
 Mabel and the boys.' 
 
 'Alick! Murray! What does it all mean?' cried the old 
 man, greatly agitated ' their mother ?' 
 
 There was a pause a long, long pause no one spoke. 
 Alick hung down his head. Murray crept to the fire and 
 kept on sobbing. 
 
 'Their mother, Mabel?' said Mr. Vaughan again, in a 
 tone of anxious inquiry. 
 
 * They have no mother in this world but me, father/ 
 answered Mabel, in a hollow whisper. 
 
 The head of the afflicted parent dropped upon his bosom. 
 Harry came up, untied Mabel's bonnet, smoothed her hair 
 with his hands, kissed her hastily, and walked to the other end 
 of the room to hide his agitation. She rose and stood looking 
 into the fire. 
 
 f Is she dead ? How did it happen ? When did she die ? 
 Where ?' asked Mr. Yaughan, at last, in a choked voice. 
 
 Mabel gave a simple outline of the facts. Mr. Vaughan 
 held fast to the sides of his chair, as if needing support, and 
 presently Harry came back, and watching Mabel's counte 
 nance, listened also to the story. Now and then one or the 
 other asked some anxious question, and at length, amid sighs, 
 sobs, and secret shudderings, the sad tale was fully told, 
 There was a second long silence, broken only by Murray's 
 cries, and then succeeded other questionings and other cares ; 
 the weary young travellers ; their long, hard journey ; the 
 trying experiences of Mabel ; the exposures and deprivations 
 of the poor children ; their present necessities and wants ; all 
 in turn demanded consideration, and were in turn discussed. 
 Murray's loud complaints of cold and hunger were promptly 
 responded to by Harry, who piled on more wood and went to 
 consult the larder, and, through his good housekeeping and 
 Mabel's ingenuity, arrangements were soon made by which 
 the newly-arrived party could be comfortably accommodated 
 for the night. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 323 
 
 ' How happened you to think of coming here, Mabel ?' 
 asked Mr. Vaughan, when, supper being concluded and the 
 children gone to bed, she had quietly seated herself beside 
 him, with the satisfied, contented air of one who having suf 
 fered much has found a place of repose at last. 
 
 ' I did not know what else to do, father,' was her simple 
 answer. 
 
 The same distressed look returned to his face which had 
 marked it on the first announcement of her arrival ; he moved 
 uneasily in his chair, glanced at the bare, plastered walls and 
 meagre furniture of their only parlour, and then, gazing at her 
 with mingled pride and pity, ejaculated mournfully, ' It is 
 not a fit place for you, my child. I would have spared you 
 this.' 
 
 Mabel, grieved at perceiving how deeply he felt the trial of 
 seeing his beloved daughter reduced to 5-uch humble fortunes, 
 made haste to assure him of her perfect satisfaction and joy in 
 sharing his "Western abode. He interrupted her, however, 
 shook his head in a troubled, discontented manner, and 
 glanced once more around the room, saying, i Ah, well ! it 
 may do for awhile, perhaps a week or so, until I get my 
 affairs settled.' 
 
 It seemed, indeed, as if his paternal grief at the death of 
 Louise was secondary to this one absorbing regret ; and as if, 
 in contemplating the trials and mortifications to which his 
 favourite child had been suddenly reduced, he had forgotten 
 every other cause of sorrow ; for, when at last he took his 
 candle to retire for the night, he laid his hand on Mabel's 
 head, and said in a consolatory tone, ' Never mind, my 
 daughter ! It is only for a time, while Harry practises a 
 little shooting, and I settle up my affairs, and then we will all 
 go home again.' 
 
 ' I am afraid my father is sorry I came, Harry/ said Mabel, 
 as the brother and sister were also about to separate. 
 
 ' No, no, indeed,' replied Harry ; ' only he feels, as any 
 body must, that this way of living is so different from any 
 thing that you have been accustomed to this bivouac in the 
 wilderness this hunting-lodge in the prairie for that is all 
 it is fit for.' 
 
 ' If he only cares on my account if you are sure of that, 
 Harry, I am content,' said Mabel. ' He shall see how happy 
 I can be here.' 
 
 T 2 
 
324 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 ' Dear Mabel,' said Harry, looking at her tenderly, * how 
 much you have suffered how much you have been through 
 since we parted !' 
 
 4 We will not think of it now,' said she, smiling through 
 her tears. *I am with my father and you, Harry. I have 
 nothing more to ask.' 
 
( 325 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 But never, in her varied sphere 
 Is woman to the soul more dear 
 Than when the homely task she plies, 
 With cheerful duty in her eyes ; 
 And, every lowly path well trod, 
 Looks meekly upward to her God. 
 
 CAROLINE GILMAN. 
 
 AT the time of which we write, the States which form the 
 eastern and western boundaries of the Mississippi were the 
 chief theatre of emigration; although many a bold trapper 
 and backwoodsman began to feel the atmosphere oppressive 
 with the breath of numbers, and to yearn for still deeper 
 solitudes. 
 
 The tract of land which, about a year before, had recom 
 mended itself to Mr. Leroy as a favourable object of specula 
 tion, and had subsequently become the joint property of himself 
 and his father-in-law, was a wide and level belt of alternate 
 woodland and prairie, which, stretching for many miles along 
 the shore of a considerable river, afforded an obvious and prac 
 ticable route for a newly-projected railroad. It was with the 
 view of monopolizing the locality, and profiting by the 
 enormous rise in value which was anticipated, that the original 
 purchase had been determined on ; and, as the scheme gained 
 new favour in the eyes of the eager speculators, and the sub 
 ject became more engrossing, larger and larger investments 
 were made, until, at length, all other considerations were ex 
 cluded, and their landed interests became to both gentlemen a 
 subject of vital importance. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, for the realization of their hopes, 
 the River Valley Railroad, with all the expectations which 
 were centred in it, still continued a mere project of the brain. 
 True, it was thought of, talked of, and planned, but as yet the 
 
 f 
 
326 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 fulfilment of the enterprise was postponed ; some believed that 
 the cities which it was destined to connect were not of suffi 
 cient importance to warrant the undertaking, and all were 
 agreed to wait until the time was more fully ripe for action ; 
 all, save the disappointed land-owners, whose fortunes and 
 patience could ill brook this unforeseen and fatal delay. 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Leroy's affairs began to suffer embarrass 
 ment; a large portion of his capital was embarked in an ad 
 venture which yielded him no returns ; he was obliged to 
 look to Mr. Vaughan for assistance, and by degrees nearly 
 all his share of the Western property was transferred to his 
 father-in-law, in consideration of heavy sums advanced for his 
 relief. Nor could Mr. Vaughan long sustain the double bur 
 den of his own and Mr. Leroy's responsibilities. His re 
 sources became gradually crippled, and a train of pecuniary 
 disasters succeeded, which, together with Harry's debts, in 
 volved him in financial difficulties to an alarming extent. It 
 was at this crisis that he hastened to the scene where all his 
 hopes for the future were centered, firm in the belief that his 
 presence and influence would give new vigour to the enter 
 prise which was destined to restore and redouble his fortune, 
 and resolved, at all hazards and at every sacrifice, to pursue the 
 object of his anticipations. Thus, when Mr. Leroy's sudden 
 death, his declared insolvency, and the fresh embarrass 
 ments which ensued, rendered a large amount of capital neces 
 sary for redeeming his remaining share of the property and 
 confirming Mr. Vaughan's shattered credit, the latter did not 
 hesitate to adopt the only expedient left him, and to part with his 
 residence in New York rather than relinquish his great 
 financial scheme, or admit any new partner to his plans and 
 prospects. And when, finally, having by this desperate 
 remedy secured himself from interference, he relaxed his 
 zealous efforts, and, worn with labour, anxiety, and the shock 
 of disaster, sought for awhile the repose and seclusion of his 
 Western farm-house, it was merely with the view of recruit 
 ing his exhausted energies and preparing for a further contest 
 with difficulties and opposition. 
 
 That his residence there would be otherwise than tempo 
 rary, that Mabel would ever dream of joining him, and 
 sharing his deprivations, still less that his grandchildren 
 would be brought thither for protection and shelter, had never 
 once entered the old man's busy and overtasked brain ; and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 327 
 
 yet, by a train of circumstances, at once natural and strange, 
 the remnant of his diminished family were united under the 
 humble roof, where they seemed likely to live for an inde 
 finite period. 
 
 Mabel Vaughan was not the first among the women of this 
 land who have suddenly waked from a dream of luxury 
 to the homely realities of Western life. Many are the 
 daughters, mothers, and wives, who, born and reared amid 
 wealth and fashion, have gone out into the wilderness with hearts 
 brave enough to meet adversity, and strong enough to con 
 quer it ; proving by their self-denying fortitude, that there is 
 no sphere of life so exalted that it may not be made the school 
 of the humblest virtues, and none so lowly, that it may not 
 become the scene of the purest and most lasting triumphs. 
 Nor is it too much to affirm, that, while manly enterprise and 
 vigour have been put forth with unparalleled energy, the 
 success which has redeemed the waste land, and made the 
 wilderness glad, is no less due to the cheerful sacrifices, the 
 patient toil, and the sympathy of woman. 
 
 The sphere into which Mabel was thus suddenly intro 
 duced, was one which gave scope to every faculty, and taxed 
 her powers to the utmost. There was not only much to do, 
 but much that was to be undone and recommenced, for 
 Harry's boasted housekeeping presented a singular medley of 
 successes and failures, and, in the eyes of a capable woman, a 
 gradual but thorough reformation was essential to domestic 
 comfort. The establishing of order in the household was, 
 however, but a small part of her task. There was an aged 
 father to cheer, a brother to whom her sympathy and compa 
 nionship were the only safeguard, and two orphan boys to be 
 cared for, governed, and educated. The contemplation of the 
 toils and trials which these duties must necessarily involve, 
 might well cause the heart to shrink with dismay, and the 
 hands to refuse their unwonted office. But Mabel did not 
 pause to contemplate them, and here lay her chief security 
 from dejection or apathy. She was strong in youth and 
 health ; with spirits which had retained their elasticity in 
 spite of severe discipline, and a heart so imbued with earnest 
 faith and Christian self-devotion that, in the cause of those 
 she loved, no effort could be hopeless, and no labour burden 
 some. Thus she counted not up her toils ; she did not brood 
 upon her difficulties, but setting herself with cheerful alacrity 
 
328 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 to the work which lay nearest at hand, she performed it with 
 ready zeal, and one by one, unconsciously to herself, the 
 various offices which she filled assumed their due order and 
 significance, and her daily life became a beautiful and a 
 sacred mission. 
 
 ' Doesn't the tea-kettle boil yet, Harry ?' exclaimed she, 
 in a lively tone, as she joined her brother in the kitchen the 
 morning- after her arrival, and found him engaged in his 
 bachelor task of preparing breakfast. 
 
 ' Alick,' she cried to her little nephew, who was cowering 
 over the fire, ' do you see that great heap of pine chips out by 
 the wood pile ? suppose you run out and get some ; let 
 Murray go with you, and carry the basket, that's a good boy ; 
 run Murray, and get warm. Oh, Harry !' and she lifted a 
 cover, ' how beautifully you have broiled that chicken ! you 
 are equal to any French cook, but you have forgotten the 
 coffee !' and she glanced at the empty coffee-pot. 
 
 '.Just like me,' said Harry, good-humoureclly ; <a fair 
 specimen of my ability. I have nearly let the fire out, 
 too/ 
 
 ' Never mind, here comes Alick with his chips ; how many 
 times I have helped Mrs. Herbert to make the tea-kettle boil 
 on a Sunday evening, when Bridget was away !' 
 
 A few moments more, and the important omission on 
 Harry's part was amply atoned for ; the coffee was foaming 
 and bubbling merrily. Mabel had placed the white bread, 
 and sweet, fresh butter, upon the table a few new-laid eggs 
 had been brought in from the nests, by Alick, and every 
 thing gave promise of a sumptuous meal. 
 
 1 Here comes Murray ; what has he got ?' shouted Alick, as 
 the little fellow entered, rosy and eager with excitement, and 
 hugging to his breast a small, fur-clad animal. 
 
 ' A 'possum/ answered the child, ' a live 'possum ! James 
 the farmer gave it to me.' 
 
 Alick pressed forward to see this novel pet, Harry laughed, 
 and Mabel exclaimed, t Why, Murray, what would the New 
 York boys say, if they knew you had an opossum ? You must 
 get James to make a house for it to live in. Go and take 
 hold of grandfather's hand, Alick,' whispered she, ' arid ask 
 him to vralk in to breakfast.' 
 
 1 Boots on the top of the flour-barrel, and powder and shot 
 on the same shelf with the sugar-bowl !' was Mabel's inward 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 320 
 
 comment, as, an hour or two later, she made a careful inspec 
 tion of some of the closets. ' That will never do ! What is 
 there in that cupboard under the stairs, Alick ?' she inquired 
 aloud of her active and willing little assistant. 
 
 * Nothing.' 
 
 t Then that is just the place for boots and shoes ; it must 
 have been made for the purpose. The sporting materials- 
 must stay here, I suppose, until Uncle Harry can find a better 
 place for them. But this nice China tea-set must be taught 
 to keep better company ; how came it among all this crockery 
 and earthenware, I wonder !' 
 
 These and similar marks of carelessness could be corrected 
 directly ; but it was a less easy task to remedy the numerous 
 inconsistencies which the house and furniture everywhere 
 exhibited. 
 
 The plain wooden dwelling, though in many respects con 
 venient, was utterly destitute of ornament, and, in its interior 
 finish, was rough and homely in the extreme. It was one of 
 those cheap structures, which, in the order of progress, rank 
 next to the log house, and which, built solely for purposes of 
 practical utility, offer nothing attractive to the eye, and barely 
 insure the comfort of their occupants. It had been furnished 
 with the simple necessaries of life by the former owner of the 
 land on which it stood, and came thus into the possession of 
 Mr. Vaughan, having been included in the original purchase 
 of the estate. 
 
 Immediately upon Mr. Leroy's arrival in the West, however, 
 when this place became his head-quarters, he had endeavoured 
 to make it a comfortable summer residence for himself and 
 his father-in-law, by sending thither from the nearest city 
 those articles of luxurious living, in which it was most obviously 
 deficient ; and these being purchased for temporary use, and 
 with little care and discretion, constituted, together with the 
 rude specimens of furniture which had been found there, an 
 incongruous mass of household utensils and appliances, which, 
 thrown together in utter disregard of convenience or good taste, 
 imparted to the rooms a most unsettled and desolate appear 
 ance. 
 
 But the same quick eye and hand which, a year before, had 
 been so prompt in relieving the dull uniformity of a superb 
 town house, knew how to reduce this disorder to harmony and 
 arrangement; and, although Harry still persisted in play- 
 
330 MABEL VAUGI1AX. 
 
 fully styling it a bivouac and an encampment, their dwell 
 ing soon assumed, under Mabel's superintendence, all the 
 essential characteristics of a home. It was true no one could 
 be blind to the fact, that the rich and gaily-coloured carpet of 
 their only parlour contrasted painfully with the bare, plastered 
 walls and smoke-stained ceiling ; that the heavy brass andirons 
 were but little in keeping with the rough, ill-painted chimney- 
 piece and wide brick hearth ; that the stuffed arm-chairs and 
 sofa, which were among the imported articles, were strangely 
 at variance with an old pine table and wooden clock, which 
 were as indispensable as they were ugly; and that silver forks 
 and damask napkins only served to make the rude cutlery and 
 clumsy tin coffee-pot more conspicuous features in the break 
 fast service. 
 
 Woman, however, has an art unknown to man, by which 
 due prominence may be given to the attractive side of the 
 domestic picture, while the reverse is atoned for or kept wholly 
 out of sight ; and Mr. Vaughan and Harry were not the first 
 who have felt the power of a cleanly swept hearth, a neat 
 table-cover, a well-ordered meal, a tasteful work-basket, and a 
 box of mignionette in the window, a freshly white-washed 
 ceiling, without being able to define the cause of their un 
 wonted sense of comfort. 
 
 Upon the unpacking of Mabel's trunk, a treasure had come 
 to light, which had awakened in her many a touching remi 
 niscence and emotion, and which excited Alick to tears and 
 Murray to an ecstacy of delight. It was Rosy's picture of the 
 Jittle Pilgrim, packed in a snug corner by Mrs. Hope, and 
 marked on the back in Lydia's hand-writing, with Rosy's dying 
 message, ' Give this to my dear Miss Mabel.' They hung it 
 on that side of the plastered wall to which Mr. Vaughan's eyes 
 were often turned in his half-absent fits of dejection, where it 
 stood out from the cold white surface, as much alone and as 
 highly prized as in Rosy's humble room, and silently pro 
 claimed those blessed truths of which Rosy's voice and life had 
 furnished the interpretation. 
 
 It had been obvious, from the first moment of Mabel's 
 arrival, that nothing would so mortify and distress her father 
 as to see her reduced to the performance of menial offices ; 
 and this feeling, which his whole manner conveyed, was 
 expressed almost immediately in the decisive words, * Harry, 
 we must look out at once for servants. James has done very 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 331 
 
 well for us, with what assistance he has been able to obtain in 
 the neighbourhood ; but the case is quite different now. 
 Even if Mabel should only be here for a week or two, we 
 must have female servants, if there are any such to be 
 obtained, and make her as comfortable as possible.' 
 
 The saving clause in Mr. Vaughan's remark was well intro 
 duced, for the difficulty of securing female assistance in a new 
 country is proverbial ; and, though Harry fully coincided 
 with his father's views, and was indefatigable in his efforts, 
 he met with only partial success, and that not until he was 
 nearly discouraged. At length, however, a young and inex 
 perienced girl, daughter of a recent settler in the vicinity, 
 consented to enter Mabel's service, and through the latter' s 
 perseverance in training both herself and her hand-maiden, 
 some degree of system was introduced into the kitchen depart 
 ment, and there was at least the show of a waiting woman in 
 the establishment. 
 
 Of the trials, disappointments, and difficulties, which a 
 young housekeeper endures during her novitiate, most women 
 know something by experience, and most men by hearsay ; 
 while all will agree, that no small credit Mas due to the girl 
 who bore her trials cheerfully, laughed over her disappoint 
 ments, patiently contended with difficulties, and maintained, 
 meanwhile, a happy contentment of spirit, which spread sun 
 shine through the house, and even forbade her anxious parent 
 to consider her an object of compassion. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Vaughan was frequently absent from 
 home, on those excursions which had reference to his scheme 
 of future wealth and aggrandizement, and, on his return, his 
 mind was generally too much abstracted to admit of his 
 making any observation upon his family circumstances, beyond 
 that of the general health and welfare of the household. He 
 accepted the arrangements which were made for his comfort, 
 without seeming to trace them to their source, and sometimes 
 came and went without communicating a single fact connected 
 with his journeyings, or making a single inquiry concerning 
 the events which had transpired in his absence. The roll of 
 charts, descriptive of his landed property, was usually spread 
 out before him, upon the table, and when not actually engaged 
 in consulting it, he would restlessly pace the room ; while, 
 more than once, Mabel was startled by hearing his step in the 
 night time, and, on hastily coming down stairs, discovered him 
 
332 MABEL VAUGIIAN. 
 
 in his night-cap and dressing-gown, poring over the engross 
 ing maps, tracing out the course of the river, or the boundary- 
 line of his estates. ' Go back to bed, my child,' he would say, 
 looking up from his labours, but not removing his finger from 
 the place which it marked ; ' I am sorry I disturbed you ; I 
 only wished to satisfy my mind upon a certain point.' 
 
 4 1 thought you might be ill,' Mabel would perhaps remark ; 
 and he in his turn would answer, a little impatiently, ' 111? 
 Oh, no, I am perfectly well,- perfectly/ 
 
 The autumn, however, was fast changing into winter, and 
 the subject of a return to New York was as wholly dropped as 
 if such a thing had never been contemplated. Time did not 
 appear to hang heavily upon Harry's hands; he was out 
 almost constantly with his dog and gun, and his health and 
 figure were becoming robust under the influence of this active 
 life. Nor did Mabel's high hopes suffer any diminution, nor 
 her fears become in any degree excited, on his account, 
 although his frequent arid prolonged shooting excursions 
 brought him into contact, not only with the reckless hunter 
 and backwoodsman, but also with many a gay sporting-party 
 from Canada and the Western cities, who were, at this season, 
 finding recreation in the hunting-grounds of the West. He 
 invariably returned home laden with game, which was no 
 trifling feature in their larder ; and, by his thoughtfulness for 
 Mabel's comfort, by his anxiety to lighten her cares in pro 
 viding for the wants of the family, and by the exercise of a 
 discretion and good judgment which had never before charac 
 terized him, he gave evidence of his growth in manly purpose 
 and true generosity of heart. 
 
 Mabel's social deprivations might seem one of the most 
 striking trials of her lot. But although her father and 
 brother were much from home, and the neighbourhood offered 
 few advantages, she found more than enough in her present 
 situation to compensate for all she had lost by the exchange of 
 a crowded city for a life on the open prairie. 
 
 The children were her constant companions. Alick could 
 not long be contented out of her sight, and the chivalrous 
 devotion which had marked his demeanour on their journey 
 suffered no diminution at its termination. He was her inva 
 riable attendant and fellow labourer, and under her sunny in 
 fluence the best traits of his character were rapidly develop 
 ing ; while Murray, in the keen enjoyment of simple pleasures, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 333 
 
 was overcoming the false tastes and unreasonable temper 
 which were due to flattery, and the injurious influences that 
 hotel life is sure to exert upon a child. 
 
 But there was still another source from which Mabel 
 derived sweet and welcome companionship, learning, in the 
 exercise of a warm and tender friendship, how much more 
 precious is the intercourse with one true and congenial mind, 
 than with hundreds of those chance acquaintances who are 
 thoughtlessly termed friends. 
 
 She was standing one day at the front window of her 
 parlour, watching the boys who were at play outside, when 
 her attention was attracted by a little, shaggy, white pony, 
 approaching the house at a quick canter. As the village had 
 been laid out with reference to that immense growth which it 
 had not yet attained, and a wide open common intervened 
 between Mr. Vaughan's residence and the opposite street, the 
 figure of the rider, who, regardless of the beaten track, pur 
 sued a direct course over the rolling prairie ground, was 
 strongly denned on the open space and against the clear blue 
 sky, and was watched by Mabel with intense interest and 
 curiosity. It was a young, slight, and delicate-looking girl, 
 who, dressed in a light grey habit, with a straw hat, bound 
 and tied with green ribbon, and her fair hair floating on the 
 breeze, presented a novel and picturesque appearance. She 
 rode with careless ease and grace, and seemed to guide and 
 control her little steed by a species of magic, for as she drew 
 near the house she suddenly threw the reins on its neck, 
 checked it with a word, and springing lightly from its back, 
 apparently bestowed no further thought upon the animal, 
 which followed her for a few paces, then tossed its head, 
 snuffed the air, and bounded to a little distance, where it 
 stopped and quietly commenced grazing. 
 
 Gathering her skirts lightly in her hand, they were not so 
 long as to interfere materially with her walking, she came 
 tripping up to the door, but did not appear to be in haste, 
 for seeing the children, she paused in evident surprise, stooped 
 down and stroked the head of Harry's dog, with which they 
 were playing, and asked them a few questions, to which, how 
 ever, she failed to obtain satisfactory answers. Mabel was 
 just considering whether she should go to meet this unexpected 
 visitor, when, without the ceremony of a knock, the door was 
 opened, and she entered unannounced, with several letters and 
 
334 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 papers in her hand, which she was about to lay upon the table 
 and retire ; but seeing Mabel, she paused, blushed slightly, 
 then with the simple confidence of one who has never known 
 cause for more than momentary embarrassment, advanced and 
 cordially extended her hand. ' It is Miss Vaughan/ ex 
 claimed she, with unaffected astonishment and pleasure. ' But 
 I did not know you had come. I had no idea you thought of 
 coming. I am very glad to see you.' 
 
 Mabel shook the young girl's hand warmly, for her appear 
 ance was very prepossessing ; she could not, however, disguise 
 the curiosity she felt concerning her, and the little horse 
 woman ingenuously responded to it in the words ' I am 
 Helen Gracie, the clergyman's daughter, the village letter- 
 carrier, my father's curate, and your father's earliest acquaint 
 ance in the place, and medical adviser, too, I may say, if you 
 will not think me proud.' 
 
 Many more were the titles to honour and to love which 
 Helen might with equal truth, though not with equal 
 modesty, have claimed ; for this fair flower of the wilderness, 
 this lily of the prairie, as she was rightly termed, was known 
 and beloved for a circuit of twenty miles around, and the 
 various offices she filled were as numerous as they were bene 
 ficent. 
 
 It was enough for Mabel, however, that she recognised in 
 her the gentle nurse who had ministered to her father's wants, 
 and earnestly pressing the little hand which had applied the 
 healing balsam and prepared the wholesome nourishment for 
 her wounded and invalid parent, she proceeded to thank her 
 in no measured terms for the friendly and neighbourly part 
 she had played. She had heard her father speak frequently 
 of Miss Grade's attentions, and Harry, too, had referred to 
 her by name ; but having pictured to herself some ancient and 
 withered crone, laden with a huge bag of herbs, and prating 
 of her skill, she could not sufficiently express her pleasure at 
 this agreeable surprise. 
 
 Helen, however, disclaimed all praise ; she had merely 
 recommended an application for Mr. Vaughan's sprain, which 
 had fortunately proved effectual, and the dear old gentleman's 
 kindness had made it a pleasure to ride over and inquire after 
 his health. She then apologized for her present intrusion, by 
 saying that she had frequently been in the habit, during the 
 summer, of calling and leaving the letters, on her way from 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 335 
 
 the post-office to a neighbouring settlement which she visited 
 almost daily, and as Mr. Vaughan and Mr. Leroy were seldom 
 at home, she usually came in and left them on the table. 
 Mabel, charmed with her fresh and lady-like simplicity,, 
 begged that she would always thus dispense with ceremony ; 
 and, Helen having been persuaded to take a seat, the two- 
 girls were soon chatting together with a freedom which gave 
 the promise of speedy intimacy, and mutual happiness in each 
 other's society. 
 
 There was no question which Mabel could ask concerning 
 the country, or the neighbourhood, to which Helen could not 
 give a prompt and intelligent answer, and no advice or 
 counsel which she required in her present circumstances, which 
 her new friend was not competent to bestow ; for Helen had 
 been born in the West, and the greater part of her young life 
 had been passed in this very locality, to which her father, a 
 devoted minister of the gospel, had brought his only child in 
 her infancy, and where, unbiassed by worldly prejudice, he 
 had reared and educated her according to his own ideas of 
 female loveliness and duty. 
 
 ' You have been a housekeeper ten years !* exclaimed 
 Mabel, as Helen laughingly declared that her experience 
 dated back to that remote period. Then, reviewing with a 
 smile the sweet, infantile features which seemed to mock the 
 assertion, she added, * No one would believe you such a 
 veteran in the service ; but I shall take you at your word, 
 and rely on your advice in all domestic matters, as well as in 
 doctoring, and all the graver sciences. If you please, before 
 you go,' for Helen was about to depart, ' will you step into 
 the kitchen, and tell me if Melissa's bread is risen enough to 
 put into the pans ?' 
 
 And Helen accepted the invitation with the same playful 
 air with which it was given, and the bread was all the better 
 for her suggestions/ 
 
 She then spoke her farewell, and the pony, obedient to its 
 mistress' call, came trotting up with the playful and waggish 
 capers of a little dog. ' Will you take a ride, sir ?' said Helen 
 to Murray, who stood attentively watching the animal's mo 
 tions. 
 
 The courageous boy answered readily in the affirmative, 
 and in an instant the lively girl had lifted him into the saddle, 
 and was laughing merrily at his delight, as she led the docile 
 
336 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 pony round in a wide circle; then helping him to alight, she 
 sprang into his place, waved her hand gaily to Mabel, who 
 .stood watching them in the doorway, and cantererd oft' over 
 the prairie in an opposite direction to that from which she had 
 come. 
 
 A moment after Harry crossed the bridge, and emerging 
 from the thicket which bordered the river, joined Mabel on 
 the doorstep, while the figure of Helen was still in sight, 
 though gradually lessening in the distance. 
 
 ' I do believe,' exclaimed he, * you have had a visit from 
 that little desert sprite. This is the third time I have come 
 up just in season to see her beat a retreat, and never yet have 
 I had a glimpse of her face, though my father speaks of her 
 so familiarly that she cannot be utterly a myth.' 
 
 6 Harry,' said Mabel, with enthusiasm, ' she is the dearest 
 little creature in the world/ 
 
 * I have had a suspicion of the fact,' replied Harry, ' but 
 that is all. I invariably catch sight of her riding off as she 
 is now, with her curls floating behind her, and almost think 
 she sees me coming and makes her escape on the instant.' 
 
 ' She lives in the cottage yonder ; you can see the smoke 
 from the chimney,' said Mabel. ' We are the best of friends 
 already, and I have promised to return her visit soon ; you 
 must go with me/ 
 
 Harry did so, not unwillingly ; and as time passed on and 
 the intimacy between the families continued to ripen, Mabel's 
 declaration and his suspicions regarding their new friend 
 seemed destined to become confirmed. 
 
( 337 ) 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ' 
 
 Labour is good for man, bracing up his energies to conquest, 
 And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself useless. 
 
 M. F. TUPPER. 
 
 THE short, frosty days of winter were gradually giving way 
 to the bright influences of spring, though as yet there was little 
 indication in the bare, brown prairie, the leafless trees, or the 
 chilly atmosphere, of any other reign than that of the wintry 
 tyrant. The sun, however, rode higher in the firmament and 
 continued longer above the horizon, and the light snows which 
 fell now and then during the night, could not resist the power 
 which his rays had acquired at noon. It was that season when 
 good housewives improve the long days for the accomplishment 
 of wJiatthey term their spring work ; and Mabel, in virtue of 
 her thriftiness, devoted all the time she could spare from her 
 other vocations, to the diligent plying of her needle, a species 
 of industry which the family wants imperatively demanded. 
 
 She was sitting at the window towards the close of an after 
 noon in the early part of April, busily occupied at her sewing, 
 and Harry, at the opposite side of the room, was engaged with 
 a book. Mr. Vaughan was absent on one of his frequent 
 excursions ; the boys, wrapped in their warm great coats, had 
 gone with James the farmer to enjoy his skill in calling- 
 together the cows, which had strayed to a distance, and the 
 house was quiet and undisturbed. Occasionally Harry laid 
 down his book and yawned, then rose, gazed first from one 
 window and then another, and finally resuming his seat, with 
 his elbow resting on the half-closed volume, watched Mabel 
 attentively and thoughtfully, as, unconscious of observation, 
 she stitched away on the garment, which she was anxious to 
 finish that evening. Neither of them had spoken for a half 
 
338 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 hour or more, when Harry suddenly startled his sister with 
 the abrupt remark, l Mabel, I am tired of this kind of life ; I 
 am going to work/ 
 
 She lifted her earnest, brown eyes for an instant to his face, 
 with a half-incredulous, half-inquiring look, then dropped 
 them again and kept on sewing. 
 
 ' It does very well/ continued he, * to call our farm-house 
 here a bivouac, an encampment, and a hunting-lodge. It 
 sounds temporary, and seems encouraging, and answers for a 
 jest ; but it is no jesting matter, this Western life to which 
 we have become reduced it is a sober reality.' 
 
 Mabel made no reply ; she only looked more steadily at her 
 work. He studied her face for a moment, but could not read 
 its expression, the features were so fixed. ; All we can do 
 now is to make the best of it,' said he, as he rose once more 
 and walked up and down the room. Then pausing opposite to 
 her he exclaimed, in a tone at once emphatic and full of deep 
 and tender feeling, ' Mabel, this is all a humbug this great 
 scheme of father's. The poor old gentleman is labouring 
 under a delusion/ 
 
 Her head dropped lower and lower on her bosom, a great 
 tear fell on her work and glittered like a dewdrop, 
 another blinded her eye ; still she feigned to be busy as ever 
 \vith her work; 
 
 1 He is wasting his life away chasing after a shadow. Pid 
 you know it?' asked Harry, in a tone of gentle, anxious 
 inquiry. 
 
 She answered only by an affirmative nod. She had known 
 it so long ; she had read it so many times in the old man's 
 face ; she had felt it so to her heart's core, and treasured it 
 there so religiously, as a fatal secret, that now to hear it spoken 
 out, and to find herself assenting to the truth, seemed almost 
 like a sacrilege, or the betrayal of a trust. 
 
 c And you knew that the rest of the property was lost ; that 
 everything had been sacrificed to this hopeless speculation ; 
 that the New York house and all its contents went under the 
 hammer long ago ; and that this was our only home ?' 
 
 Harry put these questions in quick succession, as each 
 received the same silent but expressive reply with which 
 Mabel had responded to his first query ; then added, gazing 
 into her face meanwhile with wonder and admiration, ' So 
 you have never been blinded for a moment to the true state 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN, 339 
 
 of things ? You have never been deceived by all the pro 
 phecies of better days ? You have realized from the beginning 
 that we were a ruined family, and yet you have seemed as 
 cheerful as if we were at the top of fortune's ladder, and 
 have laboured as steadily as if you had the most brilliant ends 
 in view ! I never would have believed it of any woman. 
 Mabel, you are an angel !' 
 
 6 No, I am not. an angel,' said she, looking up with a half 
 smile ; t nor are we a ruined family. I have learned to appre 
 ciate a home if it is ever so humble ; and if it were not for 
 his disappointment, of which I cannot bear to think, we 
 might be very happy yet. You, and the boys, and I, will all 
 acknowledge that this winter has been much better spent than 
 the last.' 
 
 ' Yes, in the highest and best sense, we have all improved,' 
 said Harry ; ' and we know who we have to thank for it. 
 You and I have been but idle dogs,' continued he, patting the 
 head of his favourite setter, ' but we have at least done no 
 harm for the last six months, and one of us has not found the 
 time wholly wasted, since it has sown the seeds of some good 
 resolutions. Yes, Mabel, your industry and patience have 
 been at once a reproach and an incentive to me. I am 
 determined to be no longer a drone in the hive I am going 
 to work.' 
 
 There was a manly earnestness in Harry's tone which made 
 it impossible to doubt his sincerity, and Mabel, both by voice 
 and countenance, expressed an eager interest and pleasure in 
 his declaration, which encouraged him to explain himself still 
 further. 
 
 It seemed that the young man's time during the winter 
 months had not been wholly devoted to hunting, though it was 
 on an excursion of this nature that the impulse became awa 
 kened which eventually led to important results. He had gone 
 to a greater distance than usual from home, and in company 
 with some young English officers from beyond the Canadian 
 frontier, had been on the track of a deer which had recently 
 been seen in the neighbourhood, and, in the engrossing interest 
 of hunting, had become separated from his companions just at 
 the close of the short winter's day. In the darkness which 
 immediately ensued, he was for some hours lost in the forest ; 
 but at length, guided by the friendly light of a log hut, he 
 succeeded in reaching a place of shelter, which he recognised 
 
 z 2 
 
340 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 as the cabin of an Indian half-breed who had once before been 
 his host on a similar occasion. 
 
 But he was not now, as before, the only guest. A rival 
 huntsman had preceded him, and, outside the door, lay the car 
 cass of the deer, slain by this successful follower of the chase. 
 It proved, however, to be neither of Harry's previous compa 
 nions who had thus borne away the honours, but an accidental 
 competitor for the prize, who, travelling in the neighbourhood, 
 was indebted to his quick eye and ready rifle for a success 
 which he could scarcely be said to have sought. The stranger 
 was a young man, not many years Harry's senior, and in the 
 close proximity to which the new Dodgers were subjected in 
 their narrow quarters, an acquaintance naturally ensued, which 
 the next day's journey, passed in each other's society, was also 
 destined to confirm. 
 
 The manners and bearing of the expert hunter had at once 
 proclaimed him to be a gentleman, and his knowledge and culti 
 vation proved him to be one of no ordinary attainments ; for, 
 while his whole conversation was marked by elevation of sen 
 timent and refinement of taste, his information ranged over a 
 wide field of topics, and he seemed equally at home on a ques 
 tion of foreign policy, or the details of Western farming. Of 
 the latter he had, considering his youth, enjoyed a large experi 
 enceenjoyment being most truly the term for expressing the 
 enthusiastic and hearty interest which he felt in the growth 
 and development of the resources afforded by the extensive 
 plantation lands of which he was the proprietor. These lands 
 were not very far distant from one portion of Mr. Vaughan's 
 estate ; and as Harry listened to the young stranger's animated 
 account of his own successful experiments in agriculture, and 
 the almost fabulous crops which the rich soil was capable of 
 yielding, his attention was, for the first time, directed to the 
 uncommon facilities he himself possessed for embarking in 
 similar pursuits. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan's Western property, although purchased solely 
 with reference to one absorbing scheme, included large tracts 
 of arable land, which, at present lying waste, might be easily 
 brought under cultivation. Industry and perseverance alone 
 were wanting to compel them to yield their tribute. The 
 broad acres which had disappointed the eager speculator might 
 yet reward the patient husbandman ; and while the father only 
 dreamed of golden harvests, the son might sow and reap them. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 341 
 
 The ambition thus awakened was not destined to die out for 
 want of encouragement. The accident which had introduced 
 Harry to the owner of a model farm, had also secured to him 
 a wise counsellor and a judicious friend ; a man who had the 
 force and energy of character which are calculated to command 
 influence, and the disinterested and lofty aims which insure its 
 being exercised in a right direction. Moreover, he seemed to 
 have Harry's welfare particularly at heart, and spared no pains 
 to establish his manly purposes, and aid him in their accom 
 plishment. He invited him to visit his estate, pointed out the 
 evidences of remarkable success and occasional failure which 
 constituted his own experience, and accompanied him on a sur 
 vey of that part of his father's land which was best adapted 
 to agricultural purposes. 
 
 Thus, at the opening of spring, Harry's plans were ripe, 
 and he himself ready and eager for action. The simple struc 
 ture which was for the present to constitute his dwelling was 
 already in process of erection, and he had only delayed com 
 municating these facts to Mabel because he dreaded to dis 
 close those other truths which were involved in his decision, 
 and which, he feared, would prove crushing to her hopes. 
 
 He had not counted on that womanly instinct which could 
 not be deceived in reference to their broken fortunes, nor 
 measured the strength of that woman's heart which rose 
 superior to the shock. Nor had he anticipated, therefore, the 
 exultant and joyful emotions which the revelation of his own 
 projects awakened in his warm-hearted and sympathizing 
 sister. Not only was the thought of honest labour, in the 
 tilling of the generous soil, attractive to her newly-developed 
 tastes, but, in devoting himself with such ardour to the work, 
 Harry had set the seal, as it were, to his hoped-for reformation. 
 If there was one thing she had dreaded for him more than 
 another, it was idleness, the ' mother of mischief,' as the true 
 old proverb has it. That temptation was now at an end ; and, 
 looking through trie long vista of coining years, Mabel seemed, 
 with prophetic vision, to behold her stripling brother, over 
 whose idleness and folly she had often wept bitter tears, de- 
 velopinginto the athletic, honoured, redeemed, and useful citizen. 
 
 ' We shall miss you sadly, Harry,' said she, when the story 
 of his plans and expectations was fully told ; i but oh, how 
 happy you will be ! and what a fund of interest we shall have 
 in your new farm and its prospects !' 
 
342 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 ( You will not be ashamed of me then, when I come home 
 on my Sunday visits ?' 
 
 1 Ashamed ? I shall be so proud of you Harry ! I only 
 wish you were to be with us constantly ; and I do not quite 
 understand now why you thought it best to beg-in operations 
 on such a distant part of the property.' 
 
 * For many reasons/ answered Harry. i First and fore 
 most) the advantages of transportation are infinitely better 
 there. For more than two miles the land borders on the canal, 
 and there is a large and growing city some twenty miles dis 
 tant, which will furnish a permanent market for grain. Then, 
 although you and I appreciate the dignity of labour, and feel 
 its necessity, it is quite the reverse with my father, who still 
 clings to his charts, and sees a fortune marked out on them. 
 It would be a daily torture to him to watch the upturning of 
 this land, for any purpose so humble as that to which I pro 
 pose to convert it. Besides, I am not sure but what influences 
 me more than anything else is the fact that my friend Per- 
 cival's farm will be within half a day's ride of my own. By 
 the way, Mabel,' added he, observing an eager lighting up of 
 her countenance, ' Did I not tell you before that my excel 
 lent neighbour is the son of your charming old lady and 
 she is a fine old lady, to be sure. I saw her for the first 
 time last week. She inquired particularly after you and the 
 children, and sent her love, which I should think you would 
 be proud to have.' 
 
 ' I am, indeed,' exclaimed Mabel with delight, 'and proud 
 that you should have her son for a friend ; he must be a noble 
 man, educated by such a mother. Why did you not tell me 
 this before? It wholly alters the case. What a pleasant coin 
 cidence ! and how fortunate you are, Harry ! You will have 
 constant enjoyment in the society of that family. I almost 
 envy you the privilege of living near our dear Madam Per- 
 cival.' 
 
 Harry laughed at her enthusiasm, but, at the same time, 
 acknowledged how fully he shared it. ' Although I have 
 learned by experience,' said he, ' to be cautious in forming- 
 friendships, or boasting of them, I do believe that Percival's 
 example, what he does as well as what he says, will do more 
 than anything else to save me from becoming disheartened 
 arid desponding, especially as I shall not always have you at 
 hand, May. Do you know I keep constantly thinking that I 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 343 
 
 have seen his handsome face somewhere before. I cannot 
 help thinking I must have met him when I was travelling in 
 Europe. I told him so the other day, when he spoke of 
 having been abroad, but he only answered " Possibly." ' 
 
 As the season was now nearly at hand when Harry's pre 
 sence would be constantly required at his farm, and many of 
 his arrangements were still incomplete, his communication to 
 Mabel was but the precursor to his bidding her farewell, and 
 a few weeks later saw him established in his bachelor's cot 
 tage, at about thirty miles distance, which, with the exception 
 of an occasional visit to his family, thenceforward constituted 
 his permanent residence. His father, incredulous of his per 
 severance, and indifferent to such trivial schemes, assented 
 readily to the proposition which his son made, in due form, for 
 the use of the land, but manifested neither interest nor confi 
 dence in the result. Mabel, on the other hand, strong in hope, 
 and relying on Harry's diligence and skill, encouraged him 
 with her strong faith, and strengthened him with cheerful 
 words ; and Harry, remembering and believing in the promises, 
 sowed his seed in the morning, and in the evening withheld 
 not his hand ; and the early and the latter rain watered and 
 refreshed his furrows, and finally, when the autumn came, the 
 earth brought forth her increase. 
 
( 344 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 To nurse the sickness, to assuage'the care, 
 To charm the sigh into the happier prayer ; 
 Forestall the unuttered wish with ready guess ; 
 Wise in the exquisite tact of tenderness. 
 
 NEW TIMON. 
 
 A LETTER from Mabel to Mrs. Herbert, written ajpout a 
 year and a half subsequent to her arrival in the West, fur 
 nishes, in her own words, the best index to her mode of life, 
 and the successive changes which had, within that period, 
 transpired in the household. It ran as follows : 
 
 < DEAR MRS. HERBERT : Your kind New Year's letter, 
 with all the pleasant reminiscences, affectionate messages, and 
 loving inquiries from yourself and the dear girls, was a most 
 welcome proof of the tender interest with which you have 
 followed me to my new home, and claims a speedy reply ; 
 though before I have answered half your questions, I am 
 afraid you will be tired of my Western experiences. We have 
 now passed two winters in our new home, and begin to feel 
 ourselves old settlers ; the more so, as no less than thirty fami 
 lies have established themselves in the village since our arrival. 
 As we are a little on the outskirts of the town, however, we 
 have no near neighbour, except Mr. Gracie, the clergyman, 
 who lives across the opposite bit of prairie, and who, with his 
 daughter, are our most intimate and esteemed friends. I have 
 frequently spoken of Helen in my letters, so her name and many 
 points of her disposition and character are no doubt familiar to 
 you. But you cannot imagine the treasure she has been to 
 me, ever since the first moment of our acquaintance. Next 
 to yourself, there is no one to whom I am so much indebted 
 for the ease and pleasure with which I have been enabled to 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 345 
 
 adapt myself to our new circumstances. Though she has a 
 great deal to do, she manages all her employments so well 
 that she never seems overburdened with work, but always 
 cheerful and bright, even when all sorts of misfortunes (such 
 as beset us poor housekeepers in the Far West) have happened 
 to her : she only makes some merry joke about them, and 
 turns invariably to the bright side of everything. The 
 children of the rough backwoodsmen, who are among her 
 father's parishioners, hear the sound of her horse's feet, and 
 run to meet her the moment she is in sight, sure of some 
 trifling gift, a story, or a ride on the pony, which seems to be 
 common property. If she goes with her basket of medicines 
 to visit the sick, at a distance, she comes back so laden with 
 flowers, you would think she had been a Maying ; and an old 
 Canadian Indian woman, to whom she daily reads a chapter 
 in her French Bible, declares her voice more musical than 
 running water. I have never seen my father so abstracted 
 with the cares of business that he has not a pleasant word 
 for his fairy nurse, as he calls her, and no bribe is so 
 effectual with the boys, or inducement rather (for I, like 
 you, scorn the use of bribes), as the promise of an evening 
 visit to Helen, As for Harry but never mind about Harry 
 sisters are so suspicious, you know ? where their brothers are 
 concerned. 
 
 ' I wish you could see Harry, Mrs. Herbert ; you would 
 never recognise in him the youthful dandy who wore such 
 exquisite straw-coloured kid gloves, and boasted such a fault 
 less necktie. Not that he has grf>\vn slovenly quite the 
 reverse but, except under his curls, where his forehead is as 
 white as ever, his complexion is completely embrowned by the 
 sun ; his figure has become broad and firmly knit, and he lifts 
 me in his arms as if I was only a feather's weight ; while the 
 lassitude of manner which was always apparent in him, has 
 given place to the quick, earnest movements of a man with 
 determined motives in life and an honourable aim. Then, too, 
 he is so happy, and brings such animation into the house 
 whenever he returns home for a day or two, and I am so proud 
 of him ! Dear Mrs. Herbert, you must come out here some 
 time or other, and see what a worthy member of society you 
 have helped, by your influence, to rear. My boys, too, I con 
 sider in some degree objects of your training, for they are 
 daily practising the same round of lessons 'in which, I now 
 
346 M.M'.Kh Y.U'CIIAX. 
 
 tliank yon most sincerely for having 1 me thoroughly drilled. 
 I am their only teacher, except that Alick studies Greek for 
 an hour every day with Mr. (Iraeie, and their improvement 
 is regular and encouraging 1 . Murray is backward and rather 
 dull at his books, though a very clever boy at his play. He 
 is a good reader, but has not yet learned to spell correctly ; 
 and he experiences all the distaste I once had for the Latin 
 Grammar, which he is just beginning ; he has lately made 
 great progress in his Arithmetic, which I attribute entirely 
 to his uncle Harry's having told him, on his last visit to us, 
 that he must devote himself especially to Mathematics, if he 
 ever wished to become an engineer, a vocation on which he 
 has set his heart. I hope I shall be equally fortunate in sug 
 gesting an impulse which shall influence him in other pursuits. 
 With Alick I am obliged to adopt quite another course; the 
 only fear being, that he will injure himself by his devotion to 
 books. He devours all the reading matter which comes in 
 his way, and his greediness for knowledge is insatiable. I am 
 obliged to invent out-of-door employments for him, and entice 
 him into the open air by every possible means, lest his health 
 should suffer from too close application. He is a remarkable 
 child, and the responsibility of his moral and mental training 
 would alarm me, if I were not blessed with the aid of our 
 good Mr. Gracie, who is as judicious and kind in his dis 
 position as he is wonderful in his attainments. >\V do. indeed, 
 enjoy a rare privilege in having such a man for our friend 
 and pastor. His little church is a fountain of good works, 
 and his life, as well as his preaching, is a beautiful illustration 
 of the Christian doctrine. Besides Hebrew, (Jreek, and Latin, 
 in which he is a proficient, lie is an excellent French and 
 German scholar, and is so versed in the natural sciences that 
 he is able to impart a lively interest to all our simple pursuits 
 and pleasures. You will naturally wonder that the talents of 
 this gifted man should be restricted to so narrow a sphere; but 
 it gives added power and beauty to his self-sacrificing labours, 
 that he left a flourishing church at the Kushvard, and came 
 hither in a truly missionary spirit. He is the only man in the 
 neighbourhood who is my father's equal in years, and each 
 seems to find pleasure and benefit in the other's society. 
 
 'Of my housekeeping I have already furnished you, in past 
 letters, with many of the details. I never can be thankful 
 enough for those lessons in domestic economy which I learned 
 
M \!-,i:i, v uYJiiAN*. 347 
 
 under your roof, and which, although uncalled for during one 
 short winter in New York, have been invaluable ever since. 
 T do not believe that people generally realize how much girls 
 acquire from observation, and how much of their future skill 
 in every branch of household matters is due to this sort of 
 unconscious training. 
 
 1 Do you remember how perseveringly Em and I used to 
 watch all your operations in the kitchen on baking days, art 
 fully suggesting the propriety of your testing the heat of the 
 oven with a taster, of whose merits, when well baked, we 
 expected to be the 1 judges? I was reminded of it, and had 
 reason to thank you for your patience with us, when, on occa 
 sion of my making my first Thanksgiving pies, Helen Gracie 
 came over to assist me. and declared she knew I must be an 
 expert in the business, from the manner in which I held the 
 rolling-pin, buttered the paste, &c., in all which proceedings 
 1 was only the creature of imitation. I still retain ]Melissa 
 in my service, thanks to the attractions of James the farmer,. 
 who seems very slow to comprehend the partiality with which 
 he is regarded by my handmaiden. James is not what our 
 neighbours would call a forehanded man, and is blind to his 
 own interests in more ways than one. He is at liberty to 
 cultivate as much of my father's land as he pleases, at the 
 halves, and yet he is so wanting in energy that. I cannot per 
 ceive the slightest extent in the boundaries of his wheat and 
 corn fields, or in the number of his flocks and herds, which 
 can be maintained so easily in this excellent grazing country. 
 
 * You refer to my lack of books, periodicals, &c., but in this- 
 resppct I enjoy a rare advantage. Harry resides at only ten, 
 miles distance from a beautiful estate, called the Lake Farm, 
 owned by a gentleman of taste and cultivation, with whose 
 venerable mother I have had the privilege of claiming a warm 
 friendship. From them I receive regularly everything' that is 
 iieu and valuable in English literature; and have also derived 
 great encouragement in the study of German, which Helen 
 and I are learning together, and for which I contrive to 
 reserve a little time every day, in spite of my numerous employ 
 ments ; for I have learned the truth of what you used to tell 
 us, dear Mrs. Herbert, that the more we have to do, the more 
 time we find to do it in. 
 
 * 1 wish T could close this long letter by giving you favour 
 able accounts of my father's health, in which you always express 
 
348 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 so kind an interest. You would think him greatly changed ; 
 his hair is snowy white, his figure attenuated and bent, and he 
 suffers from a slight lameness, consequent upon his injuries at 
 the time of the railroad disaster. If, however, he could be per 
 suaded to relinquish the cares and anxieties of business, which 
 I trust may soon be the case, we might still hope to see him 
 enjoy tranquillity and length of days ; and for this happy ter 
 mination of his arduous life, I never cease to pray. With the 
 wannest love to Susan, Emily, and Charlie, and any of the 
 girls who were my fellow pupils, 
 
 1 Ever truly and affectionately yours, 
 
 1 MABEL VAUGHAN.' 
 
 About this time Mabel received a communication through 
 the post-office, which proved the occasion of much thought, 
 and eventually of decisive action. Upon first perusing it, her 
 countenance expressed a just and '"generous indignation, and 
 this continued to be the prevailing tone of her feelings during 
 the remainder of the day. The quiet evening hours afforded, 
 however, an opportunity for meditation, and for holding counsel 
 with her father, who assented to her suggestions with his usual 
 air of indifference to all things connected with their present 
 mode of life, and the next morning gave evidence of the con 
 clusion to which she had arrived ; for, after carefully inspect 
 ing the size and furniture of their best spare room, taking 
 an inventory, as it were, of its contents, and of the various 
 comforts which that and the house generally afforded, she 
 seated herself at her little table, and wrote the following 
 letter :- 
 
 1 DEAR AUNT SABIAH : ' thus she wroie ' I have been 
 wandering about the house for the last half hour, asking my 
 self whether the cottage-roofed chamber above can be made 
 warm in winter, and cool in snmmer, whether the stairs are 
 not too steep for any but young feet to climb, whether our 
 parlour is not too small for comfort, and the view from its 
 windows too strange and dreary to ever wear the look of home ; 
 and I have concluded, in spite of all disadvantages, that, with 
 love on our side, and the earnest wish to make you happy, you 
 would be far more comfortable here, than in my Aunt Ridg- 
 way's large fine house. I never dared to say this before. 
 I never ventured to breathe the hope I have long had at 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 349 
 
 heart, for I knew your love of old associations, and your 
 dislike of change. But your last letter has made me bold. 
 I cannot bear the thought that you are subjected to such 
 trials, such hardships, and such absolute indignities, as I 
 plainly perceive you have lately been made to suffer, when 
 here you would be independent, appreciated, and beloved. It 
 is true we have not, as we once had, luxuries to offer, but we 
 have all the necessaries and most of the comforts of life, and 
 these, too, in abundance ; for our Western lands are so lavish 
 in their produce, that hospitality with us almost ceases to be a 
 virtue. Then, too, although my father, as you well know, has 
 sacrificed every thing but this Western property for the pay 
 ment of his debts, and is unwilling to dispose of any portion of 
 the estate at present, Harry is gradually bringing a large part 
 of it under cultivation, and, if his success continues, the rent 
 which he insists upon paying, will not only furnish us with 
 every needed supply, but enable us to lay by something for 
 the children's education. So, even if your poor hands are dis 
 abled with the rheumatism, you need not fear that your pre 
 sence here will be the burden which you say it is to my Aunt 
 Margaret. On the contrary, we shall hail your coming with 
 delight, and shall rejoice to contribute in every way to your 
 happiness. I have consulted my father, who quite agrees with 
 me in my view of the matter, and will, I am sure, be rejoiced to 
 welcome you. The boys are improving very much as they 
 grow older, and now that they have such an ample play-ground, 
 you will not suffer at all from their noise. Our village shop 
 keeper goes to the Eastward every spring for the purchase of 
 goods, and will be a most excellent escort on the journey. You 
 see I am quite taking it for granted you will come, but it is 
 because I feel so truly, dear aunt, that your rightful and 
 natural place is at our hearth-stone, as well as in our hearts ; 
 and because I know you so well that I venture to believe you 
 will not disappoint the earnest wishes and hopes of 
 
 4 Your own dear, loving 
 
 4 MABEL.' 
 
 This cordial invitation, as Mabel had justly anticipated, 
 resulted in the arrival of Aunt Sabiah, who, so far from refus 
 ing the summons, accepted it with joyful gratitude ; and one 
 evening in the month of May, the parlour door was suddenly 
 thrown open, and Murray rushed in, waving a stick in his 
 
350 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 hand, and exclaiming, 'She's come! I've seen her! I saw 
 her old black bonnet, just getting- out of the stage.' 
 
 ' Run, then, and help bring her parcels up to the house,' 
 cried Mabel. ' See, Alick has got the start of you already,' 
 and, without waiting for bonnet or shawl, she herself hastened 
 to meet her aunt, who, left by the inexorable stage-driver, 
 according to his custom, at the turn of the road, was looking 
 about her with a bewildered air. A moment more, and Sabiah 
 was toiling up the gentle slope which led to the house, leaning 
 on the arm of her joyfully excited niece, whose circle of loved 
 ones was now complete, while Alick and Murray, whose shout 
 of welcome had been followed by eager offers of assistance, 
 were stumbling along as they best might, laden with the tra 
 veller's smaller articles of baggage. 
 
 ' Bless my heart, do look at those boys !' cried Sabiah, as Mur 
 ray rushed past with a band-box on his head (upside down, as 
 an examination of its contents afterwards proved), and Alick 
 might be heard breathing hard, as he followed behind, tugging 
 at a small, old-fashioned trunk. ' Now ain't they grown con 
 siderate and strong ? Dear, ah me ! they don't look like the 
 same children ; and how civil spoken they are, too ! And so 
 I've got here at last, have I ?' continued she, as she entered 
 the family sitting-room, and weary with her long journey, sank 
 into the nearest chair, exhausted, and not a little agitated. 
 * "Well, it's a long road, but it has come to a blessed end ;' and 
 after fumbling in vain with a trembling hand at her shawl pin 
 and bonnet strings, she submitted, as she never had sub 
 mitted in her life before, while Mabel, kneeling on the floor 
 beside her, gently removed her various wrappings, and suc 
 ceeded in discovering her cap amid the chaos which Murray 
 had created in the band-box. 
 
 Nor was it merely the fatigue of travelling, and the agita 
 tion of arrival, which had reduced Sabiah to helplessness and 
 dependence. Two years' residence with Mrs. liidgway had 
 accomplished what her mother's injustice and fretfulness, and 
 years of loneliness and neglect had failed to do ; and with a 
 spirit and health utterly broken, and a self-reliant will 
 entirely subdued by her sister's hard and overbearing treat 
 ment, the crushed, enfeebled, and prematurely aged woman 
 had thankfully sought the repose and shelter of her brother's 
 humble home, and Mabel's unquestioned affection. 
 
 And how welcome were they to the aching heart which, 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 351 
 
 amid the abodes of wealth, had sighed for some quiet, unpre 
 tending spot, where, without the oppressive sense of intrusion 
 or restraint, she might spend the remainder of her days in a 
 round of simple usefulness, and in an atmosphere of love. 
 Mabel would scarcely have apologized in her letter for the 
 plain furniture, the clumsy staircase, the low-roofed rooms, 
 the solitude of the place, could she have foreseen the sense of 
 peace and security which their very simplicity imparted to 
 her aunt, awakening at once the thought, ' Here I can feel at 
 home !' Nor would she for a moment have doubted her own 
 unaided power to make the new inmate happy, could she have 
 realized the ever-increasing satisfaction with which the deso 
 late heart would treasure up for days and years her first im 
 pulsive outbreak, as she threw her arms around the tottering 
 figure, exclaiming, ' Dear aunt, we have got you back at last ; 
 we shall never let you go again !' 
 
 * Well, really now, Mabel,' said Sabiah, as she seated 
 herself after tea at a window, arid drawing a huge ball of 
 yarn from her pocket, commenced setting up a stocking, * I 
 don't see such a great difference, after all, between this 
 country and what I've been u*ed to at the East. That 
 great field, prairie, or whatever you call it, is pretty much 
 like our meadows at home, only it isn't fenced off; and rivers 
 are rivers anywhere, and always will run down hill, and trees 
 are trees, and sky's sky, and as to the people, you say they're 
 most all ]S"ew England settlers ; so I don't see that there's any 
 thing heathenish about the place after all.' 
 
 ' Heathenish !' exclaimed Mabel, who had been replacing 
 the tea-cups in the closet, putting the room in order, and 
 arranging everything pleasantly for the evening, but who now 
 came and stood looking over her aunt's shoulder, < who calls 
 this noble country heathenish ?' 
 
 * Oh, your Aunt Margaret calls it by that name, and plenty 
 that are worse.' 
 
 * I was going to say I should be very angry/ said 
 Mabel, laughing; 'but I am so much more angry with her 
 on your account, aunt, that her abuse of the country merely, 
 would come very low on the list ; so we must let it pass, I 
 suppose. But these boundless woods, and lakes, and prairies, 
 are well able to defend themselves; they excite one's 
 activity and energy, too, by their richness and munificence. 
 I am sure I never look upon them without feeling 
 
352 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 strengthened for everything that is good, and great, and 
 generous.' 
 
 ' La, dear,' said Aunt Sabiah, * you never needed to look 
 out of doors to learn that; you always had it in you. Haven't 
 you given up everything for other folks? Didn't Louise 
 impose upon you as long as she lived ? And aren't you the 
 making of Harry ? And don't these healthy, good-behaved 
 boys speak for themselves ? And I well, I can't speak I 
 can only just thank the Lord inwardly for my share of the 
 blessing, and pray that you may get your reward one of these 
 days that's all.' 
 
 ' Reward, aunt !' said Mabel fervently, * I have done little 
 enough, and have wasted many a good opportunity that will 
 never come again, but what reward can I ask that I have 
 not got already ? I never was so happy in all my life before. 
 I am so proud of Harry, and the boys and I love each 
 other so dearly, and I have got my good auntie back (o knit 
 stockings for us all, and but here comes my father,' and her 
 playful tone changed to one of deep sadness ; ' I cannot boast 
 that I have kept him well and strong; poor dear old papa 
 see how changed he is.' 
 
 i Can that be my brother John ? Well, he is altered, I 
 declare, but it isn't your fault, child ; he has grown old, 
 to be sure, though,' and Mabel and her aunt watched him 
 with mournful interest, as, alighting from a shabby waggon, 
 he fastened his jaded horse to a post, with the air of one not 
 yet familiarized to the necessity of performing such offices for 
 himself, and then walked feebly in the direction of the house. 
 He seemed really glad to see Sabiah ; there was something 
 touching, too, in his reception of her, as if misfortunes had 
 replaced him in the position from which she had never 
 arisen, and so united them more closely in interest and in heart. 
 He felt instinctively that she would not perceive or suffer from 
 the deficiencies in his present establishment, and there was 
 something soothing in the sight of her, and in the thought 
 that she would relieve Mabel's solitude, and perhaps share the 
 labours to which he could not be blind, let him strive as he 
 would not to see them ; and so, whatever her fears might have 
 been in regard to the welcome she should receive from, her 
 brother, they were relieved at once by his manner, and 
 Sabiah felt herself fully installed in the household. 
 
 And now succeeded days, months, and even year.*, of almost 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 353 
 
 uninterrupted calm. Mabel's life, like most human lives, had 
 presented a period of rapid incident, startling vicissitudes, 
 sudden bereavement, and great and increasing responsibilities. 
 But to her, as to most persons who have experienced such a 
 crisis, there had come a season of quiet and monotonous days, 
 each so like, the other that it seemed impossible to imagine 
 that life ever had been or ever would be different to what it 
 was at present. Harry still continued at his farm, gradually 
 widening the limits of his rich grain lands, planting young 
 orchards, building store-houses and barns, and reaping the 
 fruits of his manly toil in the high health, cheerful spirits, and 
 sturdy independence, which are the sure rewards of honest 
 and well-directed labour. From this source, too, his father's 
 family derived their chief means of support ; for though Mr. 
 Vaughan had scorned to receive his son's yearly appropriation 
 in the form of rent, and seemed with strange pertinacity to 
 ignore the wants of his household, he could not shut his eyes 
 to the fact that all the family supplies were forwarded by- 
 Harry, nor could he be insensible to the comforts which were 
 purchased with the surplus cash, paid regularly into Mabel's 
 hands, and by her expended for the common good. 
 
 The old man persisted, however, in considering these mere 
 temporary expedients, and still continued to dream by night 
 and day of the prospective fortune which he and his children 
 were yet to realize, forgetting, in his sad infatuation, that on 
 a swifter and a surer road than th at for the success of which 
 he planned and schemed, his only adversary, relentless Time, 
 was steadily bearing him downward to the grave. 
 
 Meanwhile, Sabiah's bruised and wounded spirit revived 
 under the soothing influence of affection ; her stiff and angular 
 traits, both of thought and action, became softened by Mabel's 
 persuasive and winning grace, and gently and unconsciously 
 she slid into that household niche for which nature had seemed 
 to destine her. The light and irresponsible, though somewhat 
 monotonous duties which she voluntarily assumed, became her 
 pastime and her pride ; the respectful attention with which she 
 was invariably treated laid to rest every suspicion that she 
 might be deemed an intruder; and the confidence with which 
 she was received into family discussions and counsels, made 
 her interests one with those of her young relatives. 
 
 Her dread of strangers seemed as great as ever, for Mabel 
 could not but observe that the first allusion to Helen Gracie, 
 
 2 A 
 
354 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 as a neighbour and friend, caused her aunt to start and shrink 
 with seeming annoyance and alarm, exclaiming at the same 
 time, * Who is she ? I never heard of her before.' And 
 when Mabel replied, l A dear little friend of ours, daughter 
 of our minister,' Sabiah turned away rather shortly, as if (at 
 least, so Mabel interpreted the movement,) ministers and 
 their daughters were among the inevitable trials of earth. 
 It was surprising, therefore, what a cordial and tender friend 
 ship eventually sprang up between the faded spinster and this- 
 sweet fragile flower of the prairie. At first Sabiah only 
 watched her with an observant, critical eye ; then, after a few 
 interviews, spoke to her with a more than common interest,, 
 and Mabel smiled to see how frequently she would lay her 
 hand on the fair girl's head with a degree of tenderness which 
 she was not wont to manifest. Finally, no one could tell how 
 or why it became an established custom and a well-con 
 firmed understanding, that the seat next to Aunt Sabiah, 
 whether at the table or the fire-side, was sacred to Helen 
 whenever she chose to occupy it ; and it was a-n equally 
 acknowledged fact, that no one, not even Mabel herself, held 
 a more certain place in her shrunken and exclusive heart than 
 the minister's lovely and loving child. 
 
 With the minister himself, however, Sabiah never seemed 
 disposed to cultivate any acquaintance. Perhaps his conver 
 sation was too elevated to please her taste ; for he was such a 
 philosopher, scholar, and naturalist, that he frequently soared 
 into the regions of scholastic lore, and it might be that such 
 * high talk,' as Sabiah used in old times to stigmatize conver 
 sation of this class, wearied her; for she never engaged with 
 Mr. Gracie in conversation upon any topic, often left the 
 parlour when he was seen approaching, and sometimes, when 
 every one else thought him uncommonly interesting, she 
 would quietly slip out of the room and go to bed. 
 
 These very circumstances, however, were a manifestation of 
 that independence which, in her present simple arid unartificial 
 life, Sabiah now enjoyed, and in all things it was easy to per 
 ceive that at last the solitary woman had found the sanctuary 
 which her spirit craved, and was an honoured, respected 
 member of a happy home. 
 
 And in this home Mabel continued to be, as she had been 
 from the beginning the presiding genius. She walked, talked, 
 studied, and played with the boys, encouraging them by her 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 355 
 
 example, inciting them by her earnestness, cheering them by 
 her mirth, and governing them by her love. 
 
 And if she sometimes felt half impatient with the tedious 
 and self-imposed tasks which their education involved, and 
 sighed with weariness as she bent her head over the difficult 
 translation or intricate problem which she must herself master 
 before she could play the part of instructress to her nephews, 
 she was more than recompensed for the effort when she noticed 
 the respect which they involuntarily paid to her superior 
 knowledge. Nor was the advantage which she thus acquired 
 confined to a single occasion. It served to confirm her general 
 influence, and strengthen her power to guide and direct their 
 minds ; for no boy is less susceptible to the loving sway of 
 woman because his intellect, as well as his heart, pays her homage. 
 
 "With her own and Harry's friends at Lake Farm she was 
 in constant correspondence ; and though, as yet, there had been 
 no opportunity for an often-projected exchange of visits, she 
 was daily brought into close proximity with their minds and 
 thoughts. Madam Percival seemed ever to have her happi 
 ness and improvement at heart. Books, pamphlets, and news 
 papers were forwarded to her almost weekly, and during a 
 period of more than a year, which was passed by the good lady 
 herself in New York, there was no deficiency in the supply. 
 While thus receiving continual proof of the thoughtful ness of 
 her brother's friend, she was also, by the selection of authors, 
 the marked passages, and the notes pencilled in a manly hand, 
 brought into familiar intercourse with the vigorous, cultivated, 
 and original intellect, the generous, expansive, and philanthropic 
 heart of Percival. Nor was it by these means only that she 
 learned to set an exalted estimate upon the character of this 
 noble-spirited, enterprising, and truly gifted man. The voice 
 of public opinion, as likewise Harry's confirming testimony, 
 soon marked him as one destined to do honour to his country 
 and the world. Though his flourishing estate, which he had 
 himself redeemed from the wilderness, was the place dearest 
 to his affections, it was not here alone, or principally, that his 
 duties centred, for he had been trained to the profession of the 
 law ; and while all his leisure time was devoted to agricultural 
 pursuits, the large and rapidly increasing city, at some ten 
 miles' distance, was the scene of his legal labours. Here 
 it was- his exalted province, and one which he strove to prove 
 worthy of man's highest powers, not to foster differences, but 
 
 2 A 2 
 
356 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 to allay them ; not to embitter the heart, but to reconcile 
 human disagreements and rights ; at once seeking to promote 
 peace on earth and good will to men, and redeeming' one of 
 the noblest professions from the discredit which has been 
 heaped upon it by false, designing, and self-seeking men, 
 unworthy to style themselves servants of the law. Nor 
 holding, as he did, to the highest standard of truth and right, 
 and bringing to the cause the most shining abilities, could 
 his talents Jong continue obscure, or his name unknown. 
 He was acknowledged far and wide as the man whom the 
 people trusted, and though he had perseveringly declined all 
 public office, his personal influence and sway were widely felt 
 and exercised. 
 
 Had Mabel known no other interest in him than that which 
 one earnest, truth-loving mind cherishes for another of the 
 same scope and order, her enthusiasm would have been 
 readily enkindled by the reports which reached her of his 
 honourable and well-earned fame. As it was, she read his 
 arguments with as intense a zeal as if the cause had been her 
 own ; studied his character through the various means which 
 were open to her ; sympathized with his principles, and, un 
 consciously to herself, made him the model by which she 
 strove to mould her nephews to the stature of honest and 
 upright men. 
 
 Thus, dwelling in a neighbourhood which presented but 
 few of the refinements of life, associating constantly with boys 
 just ripening into manhood, engaging with them in some of 
 the sterner studies usually confined to their sex, and cultivat 
 ing an intimate acquaintance with a mind accustomed to 
 grapple with subjects of vital interest to society and the 
 State, it might have been feared that Mabel's manners would 
 lose something of their delicacy ; that the sweet and feminine 
 graces, which constitute woman's highest charm, would give 
 place to bustling activity, or misplaced enthusiasm, and that 
 her tone of thought, if not her mode of expression, would 
 become masculine and harsh. 
 
 But could Mabel have been so utterly false to her truer self, 
 to that loving and humble spirit, by the aid of which all her 
 victories had hitherto been won, there was an influence ever 
 at work to keep alive the tenderest emotions of her heart, and 
 call into action all those gentle sympathies which soften, 
 chasten, and subdue the soul. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 357 
 
 For there was one shadow ever darkening on the hearth 
 stone, and reflecting itself in the heart and on the coun 
 tenance of the young girl, who watched over her aged, care 
 worn, disappointed father, as if she had been the fostering 
 parent, and he a feeble child. And, as a mother's heart 
 grows purer, stronger, holier, amid her anxieties, cares, and 
 fears for her suffering infant, the soul of Mabel became more 
 and more imbued with sweet, womanly tenderness, as she 
 learned a new lesson of sacred love at the altar of filial 
 duty. 
 
 Thus, as time passed on, and every succeeding year ripened 
 and enlarged her mind, and her genial and sunny temper shed 
 light arid gladness on her earthly sphere, there was ever one 
 sad and plaintive strain mingling in the harmony of her life, 
 one subject of faith, and hope, and prayer, which kept her 
 heart turned heavenward. 
 
 
( 358 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The heart's affection secret thing ! 
 Is like the cleft rock's ceaseless spring, 
 Which free and independent flows 
 Of summer rains or winter snows. 
 The fox-glove from its side may fall, 
 
 The heath-bloom fade, or moss flower white ; 
 But still its runlet, bright though small, 
 
 Will issue sweetly to the light. 
 
 JOANNA BAILLIE. 
 
 OF Mabel Vaughan, the brilliant ball-room beauty, we have 
 given no detailed description ; merely hinting at the peculiar 
 charms which characterized her, and leaving it to the reader's 
 fancy to fill out the picture, since beauty is the same all the 
 world over, subject only to differences of taste. Mabel 
 Vaughan at twenty-five, however, merits a less brief intro 
 duction; for time, without robbing her of youthful bloom, has 
 developed in her traits which are less universally recognized, 
 which are felt rather than acknowledged, and which are but 
 the outward sign and expression of an inward truth. The 
 face, doubtless, is the same. The complexion has lost nothing 
 of its fairness ; the full brown eye glows with as soft a light ; 
 the smile which plays around the mouth is as spontaneous and 
 attractive ; and the chestnut hair, on which Cecilia had been 
 proud to lavish all her skill, is as rich and glossy as ever, 
 though far less elaborately arranged. But the face is the 
 mirror of the soul, and as such it unconsciously reveals the 
 emotions that are passing within, and borrows from the 
 chastened heart a serene and holy radiance, which illuminates 
 every feature, like a halo on the brow of a saint. Thus, the 
 light which now beams from her eye is not excited by gra 
 tified vanity, nor by flattering tongues, but by the quick fire 
 of earnest purpose and of ardent truth ; the smile upon her 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 359 
 
 countenance springs not from the mere effervescence of girlish 
 spirits, but from unfailing cheerfulness and sympathy with 
 others' joy ; the serene peace which surrounds her like a mantle 
 lias not its source in the promise of pleasure or luxurious ease, 
 but in calm, confiding trust, and in the reflection of each day's 
 duty done. 
 
 It is a balmy summer's evening, and, with her head resting 
 on her hand, she sits on the door-step of her father's house, 
 looking out upon the wide prairie, on which the moonlight falls 
 in an unbroken sheet of silver light, giving to the long grass, 
 as it waves to and fro in the gentle breeze, a strange likeness 
 to the rolling swell of ocean. The prospect is vast, grand, and 
 unbroken ; the hour is a quiet one, and Mabel is lost in medi 
 tation not in a meditation proportioned to the sublimity of 
 the scene, though she now and then gazes into the dim dis 
 tance with reverential awe, but in simple, loving thoughts con 
 cerning her home and its various members wondering where 
 the boys can be, for they went fishing early in the afternoon, 
 and whether her father may not be spending the evening with 
 Mr. Gracie, and if it is not probable that her aunt, in the 
 inner room, has fallen asleep in her chair, and what can have 
 become of Harry, who is at home for a day, but has been out 
 of sight for some hours. The latter subject of self-inquiry is 
 presently set at rest, as, looking in the direction of the grove 
 by the river-bank, she sees him approaching, and some one 
 with him. ' Yes no yes, to be sure, it is Helen.' But she 
 does not wonder at that. They are walking slowly and talk 
 ing confidentially, too ; but neither does she wonder at that. 
 She does wonder, however, as, on drawing near the house, 
 Harry leaves his companion and goes off to speak with farmer 
 James, while Helen, seeing her on the door-step, springs 
 towards her, throws her arms around her neck, hides her 
 cheek against hers, and sobs like a child. 
 
 ' Why Helen, dear Helen !' cries Mabel, in alarm, ' what is 
 the matter? Have you and Harry had a quarrel?' 
 
 4 No. Oh, no, \ve never had a quarrel in our lives/ ex 
 claims Helen. ' Dear Mabel, how I love you ! I never knew 
 until now how much reason I had to love you !' 
 
 < What, for Harry's sake?' 
 
 < Yes, and for mine, and for everybody's that loves him, and 
 is proud of him. He has been telling me,' said she, lowering 
 her voice to the softest whisper, 'what he never told me before 
 
360 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 how he struggled and fell, and never could have risen again 
 but for you ; how you followed him and prayed for him, and 
 loved him, and saved him.' 
 
 Helen's tones were broken as she uttered these few words. 
 Mabel tried to speak, but her voice also failed her, and, for a 
 few moments, the two girls mingled their tears. 
 
 Helen was the first to recover herself. ' Think how noble 
 he has been, Mabel !' exclaimed she. ' He never asked me to 
 be his wife before. I do not believe he would have now if 
 if' 
 
 ' I know/ exclaimed Mabel, with a soothing tenderness of 
 tone ; ' dear child, I know.' 
 
 * Papa spoke in his hearing, this afternoon, of leaving me 
 all alone in the world,' said Helen, < and I could not bear to 
 hear him talk so ; and Harry could not bear it ; and so it 
 gave him courage to say to me to-night what he never dared 
 say before. Oh, the coward, to think I would not trust him !' 
 
 'Poor fellow! he has undergone a long probation,' said 
 Mabel. 
 
 ' Five whole years,' said Helen. ' Think of it ! It has 
 been so different for me ; I knew all the time that he loved 
 me, and I had so much to do for my father and the people, and 
 we have all been so happy together, hearing from Harry, and 
 enjoying his little visits, and the time has seemed so short ; 
 and I never looked forward to the future but he, living all 
 alone, serving out an apprenticeship to his conscience, with 
 nobody to cheer him, and all the while dwelling on the past, 
 and doubtful for the future O, Mabel, he has proved himself 
 a hero !' 
 
 ' You do not love him any the less then, Helen, for his con 
 fessions ?' 
 
 'No, indeed! but 'far, far better: he has gained a victory 
 over himself, and is greater in my eyes than " he that taketh 
 a city." ' 
 
 * Pie has his reward,' said Mabel ; * he will be able to boast 
 of the best little wife in the world, and I of the dearest of sis 
 ters,' and she kissed her affectionately. 
 
 ' We ought to love one another, all of us,' said Helen, with 
 deep feeling, as she returned Mabel's embrace, ' and the more 
 so, because we do not know how soon it may be God's will to 
 part us. Oh, how our best blessings and bitterest sorrows are 
 mingled together in this world ! My dear, clear papa ! I must 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 361 
 
 go home to him now.' And as Harry made his appearance 
 round the corner of the house, she bade Mabel good night, 
 joined him, and putting her arm confidingly in his, walked 
 away in the direction of the parsonage. 
 
 Mabel was still sitting on the steps when Harry returned, 
 although he had been gone an hour, for he stayed to receive 
 an old man's blessing and the free gift of his only child. It 
 was now his turn to claim her loving sympathy. ' Mabel,' 
 said he, as he took a seat beside her, and put his arm around 
 her waist, ' have I done wrong?' 
 
 'Wrong in waiting so long, Harry, and enduring so much 
 unnecessary suspense ?' 
 
 4 No, in claiming Helen at last. What right have I to such 
 a blessing ?' 
 
 i The right of a man who has proved himself worthy of it.' 
 
 4 But ought I thus to take advantage of Helen's guileless 
 simple-hearted nature ? Would a less unworldly woman con 
 fide in me as she does, knowing all ?' 
 
 * A less unworldly woman could not appreciate your self- 
 conquest, Harry ; it is only the humble Christian heart which 
 can sympathise with human weakness, and rightly estimate 
 human victories. I should not think Helen worthy of you 
 if she undervalued the firm and noble effort by which you 
 have overcome evil with good. It is because she knows how 
 to prize the hero of such a hard-fought battle, that I feel sure 
 she can be trusted with the future happiness of my brother.' 
 
 6 There are few who have such encouragements for effort, 
 and such motives for perseverance as I have had,' said Harry. 
 1 Helen's love may be my reward, but it is yours, Mabel, 
 which has saved me. God bless you for it ! There would be 
 more such victories among men, if there were more such sisters 
 as mine in the world.' 
 
 The failure in the health of the village pastor, and the pro 
 phetic warning of his approaching death, which had brought 
 about the mutual acknowledgment of a five years' attachment 
 between his daughter and Harry, were followed by still more 
 alarming signs of physical prostration, and it became very evi 
 dent that this faithful servant of God must soon be called from 
 the sphere of his earthly usefulness. He had for many weeks 
 ceased to officiate in his church and though his interest 
 in the people of his affections was undiminished, his labours 
 among them were at an end, and his duties were about to be 
 
362 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 assumed by another. This immediate choice of a successor 
 had been made at Mr. Grade's urgent request, as it was his 
 wish, before his departure, to see one fitted for the sacred 
 office installed in his place; and although now reduced to 
 excessive feebleness, he listened with eager attention as, from 
 Sabbath to Sabbath, he was cheered with accounts of the 
 success with which the new labourer wrought in the vineyard 
 of his planting. 
 
 ' I have left papa alone,' said Helen, one Sunday afternoon 
 at midsummer, as she presented herself at Mr. Vaughan's 
 door, 'but he insisted upon it; he is so anxious I should 
 hear the end of Mr. Mackay's sermon. Come, Mabel ! Alick, 
 you are going too, I hope ; your memories are better than 
 mine, and papa will depend upon a full report of the sermon.' 
 
 Mabel and both the boys at once rose to accompany her ; 
 Mr. Vaughan took his hat and cane, and, in an absent way, 
 offered Helen his arm he was such a gentleman still in spite 
 of cares and years ; but Sabiah, contrary to custom, for 
 she was usually a regular attendant at church, expressed 
 no wish to go, even resisted a little persuasion, and was left at 
 home alone. 
 
 She sat listening until the last sound of the church bell had 
 died away t into silence, then rose, went to the door, and 
 watched until the last straggler had entered the church, 
 which was just within sight; and finally, when all was still, 
 calm, and peaceful, put on her black bonnet, took her old- 
 fashioned parasol, and prepared for a walk. First, however, 
 she crept quietly into the milk cellar, lifted from under a 
 cover a little cottage cheese, which her own hands had made 
 the day before, and covering it with a snowy napkin, carried 
 it carefully in her hand. To whom could she be going ? and 
 for whom could the choice and delicate preparation be in 
 tended ? 
 
 It was one of those rare summer days when all nature 
 seems wrapt in the luxury of repose. There was scarcely a 
 breath stirring in the air, the wild flowers scarcely bent on 
 their slender stalks, the grass could not be seen to wave. The 
 birds in the thicket by the river had forgotten to sing ; even 
 the hum of the insects under foot seemed an almost uncon 
 scious murmur. All around was quiet and beautiful, wrapt 
 in the holy hush of a summer Sabbath ; why, then, was there 
 such a restless beating, such an impatient flutter, in the heart 
 
MABEL V AUGEAN". 363 
 
 of the lonely woman, who, with an unequal step was pursuing 
 the narrow path across the village green ? Perhaps she was 
 thinking of such Sabbath days, long, long ago, of such 
 pleasant strolls across a village green, when she was not 
 alone; perhaps, as she carefully handled the plate which held 
 the little cheese, she was reminded of some loved friend who 
 had been wont, in times long past, to esteem this work of her 
 hands a luxury ; or perhaps she was recalling the words with 
 which beloved lips had been heard to praise her skill. What 
 ever might be the thought, it was one so all-engrossing, that 
 she heeded not the heat of the burning sun beating down 
 upon her head, and was unaware of the trembling of her aged 
 limbs, until at length she stood hesitating in the shade of a 
 blooming locust tree in front of the minister's dwelling. 
 
 The open door led directly into the principal room of the 
 house, a cheerful, pleasant apartment, at once the study of the 
 father, the sitting-room of his child, and the favourite resort 
 of the young and old of his parish. 
 
 Now, for the first time, however, Sabiah stood upon its 
 threshold, and looking in, beheld the form of the feeble inva 
 lid, wrapped in a calico dressing-gown, and seated in an arm 
 chair, his head carefully propped up by pillows. His back 
 was towards her, his eye fixed upon the window opposite 
 which he sat, and his thoughts soaring into those blue heavens, 
 at which he gazed through a net-work of woodbine and fra 
 grant roses now in full bloom. Beside him lay a number 
 of holy books, and a volume of sacred hymns was open on 
 his knee. 
 
 Sabiah knew not how long she had stood silently within the 
 room, when the rustling of her dress, the reflection of her 
 shadow, the sigh which escaped her, or, possibly, only the 
 instinctive consciousness of human presence, caused the in 
 valid to turn his head slowly round, and their eyes met. A 
 look of sweet benignity overspread the pale face ; he held out 
 his thin, transparent hand ; she laid her burden gently on the 
 table, and, coming forward, took the offered hand in her own 
 withered palm, murmuring, ' Reuben !' 
 
 ' Sabiah !' said the aged man with a glance of touching 
 tenderness, l this is kind.' 
 
 Not another word was spoken, but he lifted the pile of 
 books from the chair close beside him, and Sabiah, compre 
 hending the action, sat down, with her hand still locked in his. 
 
364 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 4 1 have been thinking all day,' said he, at last breaking the 
 expressive silence, ' of a Sabbath like this, many years ago, 
 when we both were young. Do you remember that July 
 afternoon when you wore the bonnet trimmed with blue, and 
 we sat together in the choir, and the last tune sung was 
 " Arlington ?" We walked home, I know, through the 
 meadows, and sat down under the walnut-tree, and spoke but 
 little, and yet were very happy ; we loved one another then. 
 Sabiah.' 
 
 ' We did, Reuben.' 
 
 i It seemed good in the sight of God that our earthly paths 
 should lie widely apart ; it has seemed good to Him, also, that 
 we who rejoiced in each other's affection in the morning of 
 our days, should clasp hands once more in friendship at life's 
 solemn close. How precious the thought, that there shall 
 dawn for us both a brighter morning, when those who have 
 truly loved one another shall be once more united where there 
 are no more partings.' 
 
 ' Life is a hard journey, Reuben,' said Sabiah ; then added 
 with a half-complaining sigh, i I trust it leads to rest.' 
 
 ' It is hard, my dear friend,' said the good clergyman, 
 bestowing on her a look of half-anxious, half-pitying interest, 
 * but the soul's true rest may yet begin below. Our painful 
 discipline is lost upon us, unless it teaches meek submission to 
 God's will ; but a patient confidence in His love is rest, and 
 joy, and peace to the burdened soul.' 
 
 * You have found that rest, Reuben ?' 
 
 1 1 have, Sabiah, but only through the struggle of a bitter 
 and early disappointment ; without the trial we can have no 
 victory, nor without the cross, the crown. Once found, how 
 ever, it is a consolation for every sorrow.' 
 
 * I will seek it/ said Sabiah. 
 
 * Do so !' exclaimed the old man ; ' and I pray God,' he 
 added fervently, ' that His peace may descend upon you like 
 the heavenly dew/ 
 
 There was another long pause, like the first ; then Sabiah 
 made a movement to rise. 
 
 'Must you go?' said the sick man, quietly. 'It is very 
 sweet and pleasant to feel that you are here beside me. I 
 even forget to speak, my mind is so busy with the past.' 
 
 Sabiah, even more hesitating and irresolute than usual, sank 
 back into her seat. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 365 
 
 ' Time has laid his hand on both our heads, Sabiah,' said 
 the old man, ' but the heart is true to its tender memories. I 
 have loved and lost a good and faithful wife since our youth 
 ful days ; but now, in the evening of my life, the thought of 
 her has been strangely mingled with the memory of an earlier 
 love. A few days, and I shall depart and be no more seen ; 
 but true affection is not a thing of time. God bless you, 
 Sabiah ! You were very kind to come.' 
 
 1 1 am very glad I came, Reuben,' said Sabiah ; * I felt I 
 must see you once more.' 
 
 ' Farewell, dear friend,' said he, for she had again risen to 
 go, ' we shall meet again beyond yonder blue vault of heaven.' 
 He pressed her withered hand to his thin, sunken lips, they 
 exchanged one more farewell and she passed slowly out of 
 the house. 
 
 Turning in his arm-chair, he watched her retreating figure 
 as she re-crossed the green, then looked upward, and breathed 
 a silent prayer. She entered the door of her home, wiped 
 the tears from her dim eyes, and sat down in her accustomed seat. 
 The romance of her life was over, but not so its mighty 
 influence. Thenceforth her heart, already softened towards 
 humanity, was subdued towards God, and from the solitary 
 rock in the desert there gushed forth a fountain of calm, reli 
 gious joy. 
 
 All around her felt it, but none knew the source of this 
 well-spring of heavenly peace, for the ancient lovers passed 
 away, and no one shared their secret. 
 
 Not until Helen came to bring back the plate and napkin, 
 was Sabiah reminded of the cottage cheese which without a 
 word of explanation, she had left on the pastor's table. 
 
 1 Papa enjoyed your cheese so much, Aunt Sabiah,' said the 
 unconscious girl ; 4 it is the only thing he has relished for a 
 week past.' 
 
 Mabel lifted her large, brown eyes inquiringly to her aunt, 
 but Sabiah made no reply, and the circumstance was forgotten, 
 save that the thought passed through the mind of Mabel, ' How 
 illness excites one's sympathy ! even Aunt Sabiah, it seems, 
 has done her part in ministering to dear Mr. Gracie, whom 
 she always used to avoid in his healthier days.' 
 
 A few weeks more, and the good pastor was laid in the 
 village churchyard ; and, shortly after, a weeping-willow was 
 planted above his grave ; but it was never suspected whose 
 trembling hands had placed it there. 
 
366 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Ay, years had passed, 
 Severing our paths, brave friend, and thus we meet at last ! 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 ONE bright morning in September, a few months after the 
 events related in the last chapter, a waggon stood at Mr. 
 Vaughan's door, waiting for a youthful party who were about 
 to start on a short pleasure excursion. The first shock of 
 bereavement being past, the orphan Helen had not refused to 
 admit Harry's claim to constitute himself henceforth her pro 
 tector by the holiest ties ; and about a week previously she 
 had exchanged the sympathy and hospitality of Mr. Vaughan's 
 roof for a permanent and honoured place in the home and 
 heart of Harry. The neat dwelling-house which the prosper 
 ous youn^ farmer had recently built, and furnished with taste 
 ful simplicity for the reception of his bride, had never yet 
 been seen by any of his own family, and it was, therefore, with 
 no ordinary interest and excitement, that Mabel, Alick, and 
 Murray had projected a visit to the newly-wedded pair. 
 
 The weather being lovely, but the road in some places 
 heavy and rough, a light, open waggon had been procured, as 
 the most desirable vehicle for a thirty miles drive, and old 
 Sorrel, a strongly-built animal belonging to Mr. Vaughan, 
 was expected to perform the labour of the journey. Murray, 
 a handsome, animated boy of thirteen, stood outside the door, 
 cracking his long whip-lash and his dry jokes, while Alick, 
 two years older, and nearly grown to man's stature, was 
 patiently stowing away numerous packages under the seats 
 and on the floor of the waggon. 
 
 'Aunt Mabel, are you thinking of establishing an express 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 367 
 
 line,' cried Murray, ' you seem to be testing the capacity of 
 this waggon to the utmost.' 
 
 Mabel laughed. ' Those are articles of Helen's property, 
 left in my care,' said she ; ' handle that gently, Alick, it is her 
 mother's picture. Oh, there is the luncheon basket! we 
 must riot forget that !' 
 
 * No, nor old Sorrel's dinner,' cried Murray, snatching up a 
 little bag of oats which lay on the ground. 
 
 ' Here is the box of papers and books,' exclaimed Sabiah, 
 anxiously, as she stood looking on from the doorway ; ' you 
 are leaving no room for that, and it is the most important of 
 all.' 
 
 ' That is true/ responded Mabel ; * Helen would be disap 
 pointed enough, if her father's letters and sermons were left 
 behind. What shall we do with that box, Alick ?' 
 
 Poor Alick glanced at it with a blank expression of counte 
 nance ; but he was not one easily to be discouraged, and lift 
 ing it to the back of the waggon, he tried it one way, then 
 turned it round and tried it the other way, but the vacant 
 space would not accommodate it. 
 
 4 It's no use, Al !' exclaimed Murray ; ( you'll have to take 
 out the back seat ; it is the only way.' 
 Alick hesitated. 
 
 1 Never mind,' cried Murray, who, when Alick's patient ex-; 
 pedients failed, was always good-naturedly ready to accommo 
 date even at a personal sacrifice ; * out with the old bench ! 
 now, you and Aunt Mabel sit in front and I'll ride on the box 
 the favourite seat always for sporting characters.' And, 
 suiting the action to the word he vigorously exerted himself in 
 the proposed arrangement, threw a buffalo robe over the rough 
 packing-case, and sprung upon it, with his back to the horse 
 and his feet dangling behind. ' It's pretty much like an Eng 
 lish dog-cart, after all, isn't it grandfather ?' continued he, as 
 the spare form of old Mr. Vaughan appeared on the door-step, 
 ' only a thousand times more jolly !' 
 
 The old gentleman, whose face had worn a most mournful 
 gravity, at what appeared to him the degrading dilemma to 
 which the party were reduced, could not resist a faint smile, 
 as he seldom could when challenged to it by this merry- 
 andrew of the family ; and, descending one step more, he 
 handed Mabel to her seat. 
 
 Alick gathered up the reins. ' Now give him the road, Al !' 
 
368 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 cried Murray, flinging back his head and speaking over his 
 shoulder. * I saw that the old fellow had four quarts extra 
 last night, and this morning, too hurrah !' and, as they left 
 the village behind them, and passed through the adjacent farms, 
 he waved his hand to the sturdy husbandmen, whom they met 
 by the wayside, with a mingled joyousness and civility, which 
 drew smiles from many an honest face. 
 
 For some miles their road led directly along the bank of the 
 river, which was glowing brightly in the morning sunshine ; 
 then, branching to the left, it stretched across the rolling 
 prairie and through the rich corn-fields, now ripening for the 
 harvest ; after that, a heavy oak thicket refreshed them with 
 its shade. Towards noon, they again halted by the river bank, 
 when the boys released the horse from the waggon, removed 
 his bridle, and placed before him his provender. Mabel, 
 meanwhile, converted the packing-case to a new use, by 
 spreading a napkin over it, and making it answer the purpose 
 of a table, from which she and her nephews enjoyed an excel 
 lent luncheon. 
 
 Then, after refreshing themselves and old Sorrel with a 
 draught of cool water from the river, they proceeded on their 
 way. It still wanted some hours of sunset when they came 
 within sight of Harry's new residence, which Alick and 
 Murray recognized eren more readily than Mabel, as occa 
 sional visits to their uncle, in times past, had made them 
 familiar with the situation and out-buildings, while she had 
 been there once only, and that some three years before. 
 
 "VVe pass over the cordial greeting which they received on 
 their arrival, the delight they expressed at the evidences of 
 comfort and taste which met them on every hand, and the 
 cheerful evening which they passed around the fireside, when, 
 as the night proved chilly, a bright blaze was kindled, and the 
 young couple had, literally, their first house-warming. It 
 would be equally in vain to attempt to follow them through 
 the succeeding day, when the boys accompanied Harry for 
 miles about his farm, took an inventory of his promised crops, 
 examined his fat cattle, and drove a pair of newly-broken 
 colts ; while Mabel, besides bestowing her time and praise 
 upon all these objects, had a thousand and one subjects of 
 in-door interest to which Helen was eager to call her atten 
 tion. 
 
 * You ought to stay with us a week, a month, a year, Mabel, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 369 
 
 before we should be satisfied,' exclaimed Harry, on the second 
 evening of their visit, as he drew her to a seat beside him. 
 * But, since you must go home to-morrow, there is one thing 
 which reconciles me to it : my friend Percival is to speak in 
 your town-hall to-morrow night, on some of the great political 
 subjects that are being agitated at present, and I ventured to 
 extend the family hospitalities to him. I felt sure you would 
 be glad to give him a welcome.' 
 
 * Glad ! we shall be delighted,' exclaimed Mabel ; ( I shall, 
 and so will my father, I have no doubt. Boys, do you hear 
 that ? Mr. Percival is to give us a political address to-morrow 
 night. I say "us" Harry,' added she, with an arch smile. 
 ' I hope ladies are not excluded.' 
 
 6 No, indeed ; you must go by all means, May. I would 
 not have you lose such an opportunity on any account. He is 
 the most eloquent man I ever heard speak, and he is bringing 
 his whole power into the field, for his heart is in the work he 
 has undertaken. If my father should not feel able to attend 
 the lecture, you must be host, Alick. Judging from your 
 face, you won't dislike your office, my boy.' 
 
 Alick's countenance was indeed full of enthusiasm at the 
 prospect of seeing and hearing this gifted stranger, and Mur 
 ray's scarcely less so ; for while the elder lad aspired eagerly 
 to an intercourse with a man famed for high moral and intel 
 lectual attainments, the mind of the younger was equally well 
 stored with facts illustrative of his taste for manly exercises, 
 and his skill in all those physical exploits which captivate the 
 fancy of a spirited boy. 
 
 ' It was a mere accident which prevented you from seeing 
 Percival, Mabel, when you were here three years ago,' said 
 Harry, ' and often since then, he has wanted to accompany me 
 on a visit to my father's, but I could not leave home at the 
 time agreed upon. Now, however, he is sure to be there, for 
 he never fails to keep an appointment ; and, lest the duties of 
 hostess should devolve after all upon poor Aunt Sabiah, Helen 
 and I will speed the parting guests with an early breakfast to 
 morrow ; eh, Helen ?' 
 
 Helen consented to this disinterested act of hospitality on 
 condition of a long visit from Mabel a few weeks later, and 
 a partial promise to that effect having been obtained, the hour 
 for departure was fixed upon, and shortly after sunrise the 
 travellers were on their homeward road. 
 
 2 B 
 
370 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 Old Sorrel, however, did not, like the rest of the party, ap 
 preciate the importance of the occasion, and had no sympathy 
 with their desire to make a quick passage. The creature did 
 not even seem, like most animals of his class, to comprehend 
 the fact that his face was turned towards home ; for Sorrel's 
 earlier and happier days had been pass-ed among a drove of 
 wild horses which enjoyed all the freedom of the open prairie ; 
 and, although now for many years reduced to servitude, he had 
 imbibed few of the instincts of civilized life, and his temper 
 was surly and pertinacious in the extreme. He had rewarded 
 Murray's care by travelling with unusual promptness, on the 
 upward trip, but no coaxing could induce him to repeat the 
 experiment, and at mid-day the travellers had not yet reached 
 their previous halting-place, which marked somewhat less than 
 half the journey. It was, therefore, towards the middle of the 
 afternoon when they at length found themselves at a point 
 where the road, leaving the river bank, took a direct line across 
 a prairie some six miles in extent. For the last half hour, 
 their winding course had led them through a belt of rich wood 
 land, under whose refreshing shade, they had paused to rest 
 their horse, and Mabel, meantime, removing her bonnet for 
 the freer enjoyment of the breeze, while Murray crept down 
 the river bank and made a collection of brilliant wild flowers, 
 which, as they continued their drive, he busied himself, on 
 his box behind, in wreathing into a tasteful garland. i Come, 
 old Sorrel,' cried he, standing upright on the now empty box, 
 and, as he spoke, placing the wreath, with an air of playful 
 homage, on the uncovered head of Mabel, ' here's a glorious 
 race-course for you. Try now and do some credit to your 
 mistress, while I crown her queen of the prairie.' 
 
 He had scarcely uttered these words, accompanied as they 
 were by a quick snapping of the whip on Alick's part, when 
 a sudden jerk and wrenching of the vehicle threw him from 
 his elevated position, prostrate to the ground, and a scene 
 ensued which wholly altered the face of affairs, leaving old Sorrel 
 master of the race-course indeed, arid Mabel an enthroned, 
 but utterly helpless queen. 
 
 The road, where it left the thicket, diverged into two tra 
 velled routes across the prairie, which, though pursuing the 
 same general direction, were wholly distinct from one another, 
 and Alick had purposely avoided that which they had chosen 
 on their previous trip, on account of a wide gully that inter- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 371 
 
 sected it, and which recent rains had transformed into a slough 
 of deep, black mud. This same gully stretched across the 
 opposite road, but a bridge of logs had been thrown over it 
 for the convenience of travellers. Unfortunately, however, 
 the rain which had made the one almost impracticable, had 
 rendered the other positively dangerous, by displacing one of 
 the logs, and leaving a most insidious flaw in the rough and 
 hastily-constructed bridge. With a stumble and a plunge, 
 old Sorrel had escaped falling into this trap for the unwary, 
 but the impetus given to the animal's speed both by Alick's 
 stroke of the whip, and the disaster which immediately fol 
 lowed, proved fatal to the safety of the vehicle. 
 
 In a single moment of time, before the travellers had dis 
 covered their danger, the front wheels of the waggon were 
 precipitated into the hollow between the logs, the shafts were 
 instantaneously broken into shivers, and the frightened horse 
 had succeeded in clearing himself from the traces, and bounded 
 off' to a distance. 
 
 No one was injured, for Alick and Mabel had maintained 
 their seats in spite of the shock, and Murray was unharmed by 
 las sudden fall ; but their situation was ludicrous and provok 
 ing in the extreme. Before them lay the wide expanse of 
 prairie, on which not a single object was discernible save the 
 figure of their raw-boned steed, who, prancing and throwing 
 up his heels in the distance, seemed to be taunting them with 
 their misfortune, and triumphing in the sense of freedom. 
 Behind them was the little thicket from which they had just 
 emerged, and they well knew that there was not a human 
 habitation within a distance of several miles in either direction. 
 But desperate as the case might seem in a practical point of 
 view, its comic effect was irresistible ; and, after exchanging 
 with each other a single glance of dismay, they all three 
 broke into a simultaneous fit of laughter. Alick and Mabel 
 presently controlled their sense of the ridiculous so far as to 
 begin to wonder what was to become of them, but Murray, as 
 he stood first glancing at the pair who occupied in regal state 
 the seat of the broken waggon, and then at the horse who was 
 at a safe distance from them, shook with a merriment so hearty 
 and contagious, that it was impossible to take counsel in 
 reference to their difficulties. 
 
 At this crisis a sound was heard proceeding from the adja 
 cent thicket, which had the effect of making them all suddenly 
 
 2 B 2 
 
372 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 silent ; it was the voice of a man, singing out loud, in the 
 gladness of his heart. 
 
 All strained their ears to catch the welcome notes, and as 
 they came nearer and nearer, Mabel's face flushed with excite 
 ment and expectation. She had heard the voice, the words, 
 the glorious harmony but once before, and yet, though years 
 had passed over her since, and she could hardly believe that 
 it was possible that she would meet the singer of that grand 
 Latin hymn on the wild prairie ; yet in spite of reason she 
 looked for the coming figure with a strange certainty as to 
 his identity. 
 
 A moment more, and a man on horseback emerged from 
 the wood, and as he caught sight of his unexpected audience, 
 he ceased singing and came forward, looking about him as if 
 trying to make them out. He was a young and powerfully- 
 built man, dressed in a simple hunting-suit; and the rifle 
 which was slung over his shoulder, and the string of prairie- 
 fowl suspended from his horse's neck, showed that he had 
 been shooting successfully in the vicinity. He was a traveller, 
 moreover, as might be conjectured from the saddle-bags and 
 heavy surveyor's blanket strapped to his saddle, and travelling 
 quite at his leisure, too, if one might judge from the pace at 
 which he rode. Nor was it strange that the natural burst of 
 song died upon his lips, and his face indicated inquiry and 
 surprise at the novel and picturesque scene which presented 
 itself before him. Two youths, one a boy, the other a mere 
 stripling, stood beside the broken vehicle (for Alick had by 
 this time alighted), and alone in her elevated position, in the 
 midst of an unbroken prairie, sat a young and beautiful 
 woman, unconsciously crowned with the brilliant wreath 
 which Murray had placed on her head at the moment of the 
 accident, while, at some distance, the sorrel steed, with a 
 portion of his harness sweeping the ground, was triumphantly 
 curvetting in forgetfulness of his years. The ludicrous nature 
 of the occasion would have provoked the most stoical nature 
 to a smile, and such was the effect of a first glance at the little 
 group, upon the face of the new-comer. As he drew nearer, 
 however, and surveyed the party more attentively, other and 
 less easily defined emotions were depicted on the young man's 
 countenance, and Mabel's face was suffused with the deep and 
 conscious blush of the mutual recognition. For they were, 
 and yet they were not, strangers. They had met before, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 373 
 
 and then, as now, he had come to her rescue, though in a 
 far different cause. It was six years and more since, in 
 Mr. Bloodgood's dwelling, on the night of Harry's disgrace, 
 she had first beheld that manly form and those noble features ; 
 and now, after this lapse of time, and under the most opposite 
 circumstances, they had met again in the solitude of a Western 
 prairie. 
 
 The embarrassment which ensued, however, was but mo 
 mentary, for Bayard was a man of action ; and before a second 
 glance could be exchanged between them, he had read with his 
 quick eye the exact condition of affairs, and, without drawing 
 near enough to ask or obtain a syllable of explanation, he had 
 darted off in pursuit of the runaway steed. The task which 
 he had thus promptly undertaken was no easy one ; to an un 
 practised rider it would have been next to impossible, for time 
 and habit have no power to efface from the once wild horse of 
 the prairie the recollection of his ancient freedom, and the 
 sudden recovery of it seemed at once to have restored old Sorrel 
 to his juvenile strength and fleetness. 
 
 But Sorrel, even in his best days, had never been a match 
 for the superior animal on which Bayard was mounted ; and 
 this fact, combined with a degree of dexterity which the young 
 man had acquired from experience, gave him an advantage 
 over the runaway and enabled him soon to catch the old 
 horse. Mabel and the boys looked on with intense and e'ager 
 interest, while, now describing a rapid circle, and now darting 
 in an unforeseen direction, the accomplished horseman, partly 
 by speed and partly by skilful manoeuvre, gained the advan 
 tage of the deserter, and, after a few moments' hot pursuit, 
 grasped him by the bridle and came bounding over the prairie 
 with his unwilling captive. Mabel, who had stood upright 
 in the waggon during the excitement of the chase, now gave 
 her hand to Alick and sprang to the ground, just in time to 
 greet with a smile of acknowledgment and thanks the victor in 
 the animated chase, who rode up, laughing himself at the 
 nature and success of his exploit ; and springing lightly from 
 the saddle, put the bridle of old Sorrel into the hand of the 
 admiring Murray, and, with one arm passed through that of 
 his own horse, lifted his hat and bowed respectfully and grace 
 fully to Mabel, saying ' You have met with a serious accident 
 and delay, Miss Vaughan, but I hope you are none of you hurt.' 
 
 ' None at all, thank you,' replied Mabel ; while the boys 
 
374 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 looked their astonishment at hearing 1 her name so confidently 
 spoken by the stranger. ' You have had the greatest trouble 
 in catching our runaway steed ; but think we were very for 
 tunate in having a friend at hand/ 
 
 She spoke the simple word friend with an accent which 
 expressed how deeply and gratefully she felt its force ; perhaps 
 he understood that it had reference to the past as well as the 
 present, for he replied in a tone equally impressive in its sin 
 cerity, ' Nothing can make me happier than to be of service to 
 you;' and then, as Murray eagerly commenced relating the 
 circumstances of the accident, he proceeded to an examination 
 of the disabled vehicle, which, with the boys' assistance, he 
 easily raised from the hollow into which it had sunk. 
 
 Its shattered condition, however, proved to be such as to 
 wholly unfit it for use, and the possibility of removing it across 
 the prairie was even doubtful. Some of the principal bolts had 
 given way, and the springs were also broken ; but Alick volun 
 teered to supply the place of the former by strong wooden pegs, 
 while Bayard placing his saddle-bags and blanket on the floor 
 of the wagon, employed the straps by which they had been 
 fastened in binding up the splintered shafts ; after which, old 
 Sorrel was once more harnessed to the wreck, and it was found 
 that by carefully leading the horse over the level road, the 
 decrepit equipage could be safely transported. 
 
 6 1 have patched it up as well as I can, but it is still very 
 frail, Miss Vaughan, and what with its unsafe condition and 
 the broken springs, I think it will be impossible to get into the 
 waggon again,' said Bayard, approaching Mabel, who stood a 
 little apart ; ' but if you will do me the honour to make use of 
 my horse, we can render the saddle comfortable for you with 
 the help of this blanket ;' and, as he spoke, he unfolded the 
 rich and ample mantle of deep blue cloth and commenced lay 
 ing it in heavy masses over the back of the animal, which 
 stood arching its glossy neck, as if it, as well as its master, 
 were proud of the proposed honour. 
 
 Mabel earnestly deprecated the arrangement ; begged that 
 he would not suffer them to interfere further with his journey, 
 and insisted that she could walk, in company with her nephews ; 
 but Bayard having assured himself that her refusal did not 
 proceed from any fear of his high-spirited horse, answered all 
 her objections with the simple assurance that he was not in 
 haste ; that a walk of ten miles, which was the distance to the 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX 375 
 
 village, their common destination, was a trifle to one of his 
 pedestrian habits: and the boys having united their persuasions 
 to his, she blushingly and gratefully suffered herself to be 
 assisted to the saddle. 
 
 i Have you seen my bonnet, Alick ?' said she, as they were 
 about to start. He handed it to her from the waggon, and as 
 she prepared to put it on she became, for the first time, 
 conscious that the garland, which she had noticed when 
 Murray commenced weaving it in the wood, rested on her 
 brow. 
 
 ' Murray, you rogue !' exclaimed she accusingly, as she 
 snatched it from her head, and flung it with such precision 
 that it rested on the crown of his hat. 
 
 All burst into an involuntary laugh, in which Mabel could 
 not resist joining, though glad to hide beneath her bonnet the 
 face which became crimson as she reflected on the singular and 
 ludicrous inconsistency which Bayard must have detected be 
 tween her crowned head and the awkward dilemma in which 
 he had discovered their party. She little knew that she had 
 never, in all her life, looked so radiantly lovely as when he 
 first caught sight of her, with the drooping scarlet blossoms 
 contrasting with the pure whiteness of her noble brow, and 
 mingling with the smooth folds of chestnut hair, to which the 
 sun imparted that golden tinge at once so rare and so 
 beautiful. 
 
 There is nothing which more effectually relieves embarrass 
 ment than the presence of children ; and whatever constraint 
 might have been occasioned by the peculiar reminiscences 
 subsisting between Bayard and Mabel was at once subdued 
 by the merriment of the two lads, who, excited by their recent 
 adventure, were unusually loquacious and animated. For 
 Alick, though looking up with enthusiastic admiration at the 
 stranger, whose attention to Mabel was alone sufficient to 
 insure his grateful regard, shook off, to a great degree, the 
 modest reserve which characterized him, and won, in his turn, 
 the friendly interest of the young man, who never undervalued 
 the ingenuous and original, though immature, intellect of boy 
 hood. 
 
 Thus, with Bayard and Alick walking on either side of the 
 horse which Mabel rode, and Murray a little in the rear, per 
 forming the self-appointed office of leading old Sorrel, and 
 interlarding the others' conversation with his drollery, they 
 
376 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 proceeded at the moderate, though regular pace suited to good 
 walkers, with a ten miles' journey in prospect. 
 
 'At \vhat hour is this caravan expected to arrive at its 
 destination,' cried Murray, when they had gone about a mile. 
 
 Mabel looked at her watch. ' It is now five o'clock,' said 
 she ; and added in a tone of regret, ' I had no idea it was so 
 late." 
 
 * I thought of Uncle Harry/ said Alick, * at the moment 
 of the crash. I believe, when he hears of this delay and dis 
 appointment, he will complain of the broken bridge more bit 
 terly than any of us.' 
 
 * More haste, worse speed,' said Murray. ' It was that 
 last cut of the whip, Al, which settled the business so tho 
 roughly for us.' 
 
 ' The boys were urging our old horse to go faster just when 
 we broke down at the moment of the accident/ said Mabel to 
 Bayard, by way of explaining this little dialogue. ' We 
 already felt ourselves rather late, being anxious to reach 
 home in good time this afternoon on account of a lecture that 
 is to be delivered in our village this evening, which we are all 
 anxious to attend.' 
 
 ' I think you will yet have an opportunity of doing so/ 
 said Bayard, glancing at his own watch ; i it is now five. A 
 lecture at this season would not begin before eight, or half 
 past seven at the earliest. We ought, certainly, to be able to 
 accomplish the remaining distance in two hours and a half/ 
 
 * But auntie is expected to play the part of hostess to the 
 orator/ said Murray. 4 If we meet with any further delay, I 
 fear she will strike spurs to your horse and leave us/ 
 
 Mabel smiled. ' Your grandfather will be quite ready to 
 give a welcome to Mr. Percival, Murray/ said she. * I fear 
 I can plead only selfish motives for being in haste. This 
 gentleman is a stranger to us/ added she, turning to 
 Bayard, 4 but one for whom we have reason to feel the most 
 grateful esteem, and we anticipate the highest pleasure from 
 his oratory.' 
 
 6 We shall do but little credit to our physical training if we 
 are so late as to deprive you of the opportunity of hearing 
 him/ said Bayard. 'I have less fear of that than of your 
 being disappointed in the orator, whose abilities you, perhaps, 
 estimate too highly.' 
 
 1 1 think not/ said Mabel confidently. ' If we are in time, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 377 
 
 and we have not caused you too much fatigue, I hope you 
 will share our enjoyment by being present at the address.' 
 
 Bayard bowed, and a moment after gave a new turn to the 
 conversation. 
 
 It was nearly sunset when the party reached the extremity 
 of the prairie ; the road then followed the river bank, and as 
 day was merging into night, and their path was, at intervals, 
 overshadowed by foliage, the figures of the little group were 
 gradually obscured in the twilight gloom, and their brisk and 
 lively discourse, now and then relapsed into thoughtful silence. 
 The church bell was ringing out clear and loud, when, at 
 length, shortly after dark, they entered the outskirts of the 
 now populous and thriving village. 
 
 4 That bell must be for the lecture, said Alick ; l it is a 
 new acquisition to the church,' continued he, addressing Bay 
 ard, ; arid the sexton loves to make it heard on all occasions,' 
 and the little party simultaneously quickened their pace. 
 
 * Here we are at last,' cried Murray, as they came in sight 
 of the familiar homestead. ' Aunt Sabiah has put a light in 
 the window. I'm sure she is watching anxiously for our ar 
 rival. 1 
 
 Murray was right ; Aunt Sabiah was not only watching, 
 but listening, and his merry voice and laugh brought her 
 directly to the door. 
 
 i Will you not come in, Sir, and take some refreshment 
 with us ?' said Mabel to Bayard, as he assisted her from his 
 horse. 
 
 He thanked her, but politely declined, he had an appoint 
 ment, and was expected elsewhere. 
 
 ' I am greatly indebted to you,' said Mabel, with feeling, 
 at the same time frankly offering him her hand. ' I do not 
 know how to express my sense of your repeated kindness.' 
 
 t Do not speak of it,' said he, receiving her hand with the 
 same unaffected cordiality with which it was offered ; ' it is I 
 who am under a lasting obligation. You have made my 
 journey across the prairie a delightful and a memorable 
 one.' 
 
 Alick, meanwhile, was industriously restoring the saddle 
 bags, and blanket to their original places. ' Keep those, if 
 you please,' said Bayard, as the youth was also about to sus 
 pend the fruits of his shooting excursion around the horse's 
 neck ; i if the poor fowls can be made serviceable for you 
 
378 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 grandfather's table, my conscience will acquit me of mere 
 wanton destructiveness ;' and, having shaken hands with 
 Alick and Murray, and glanced up at the house, where 
 Mabel now stood in the doorway, gaily relating their adven 
 tures to her aunt, he mounted his horse and rode off at full 
 speed. 
 
 ' My father has gone to the lecture already,' said Mabel 
 to the boys, when, having delivered their dilapidated equi 
 page into the charge of James, they came bounding into the 
 house ; ' but see, Aunt Sabiah has a tempting supper prepared 
 for us.' 
 
 * Let us make haste and eat it, then,' cried Murray, throw 
 ing down his cap. ' I am as hungry as a bear.' 
 
 ' Aren't you tired, auntie?' inquired Alick. 
 
 1 Not at all/ was the answer. ' I have had a charming 
 ride.' 
 
 1 You'll all feel the better for your supper, I should think/ 
 said Aunt Sabiah, as she poured out tea for them. ' I 
 never did see anything like you, though, you, every one of 
 you, look as fresh as roses. I believe you could travel from 
 Dan to Beersheba and never feel tired.' 
 
 ' It would depend considerably upon the kind of company 
 we had on the way, wouldn't it, Aunt Mabel ?' said Mur 
 ray, somewhat mischievously. 
 
 Mabel coloured slightly, but with an unhesitating and in 
 telligent smile assented to Murray's remark. 
 
 1 Auntie,' said Alick, ' that gentleman knew you ; he called 
 you by name once or twice. Plow do you suppose that hap 
 pened ? Did you ever see him before ?' 
 
 4 Yes, I met him in company once, Alick, some years ago, 
 when I was staying at Aunt Ridgway's, in L.' 
 
 ' Well, now, if that isn't a coincidence!' exclaimed Sabiah. 
 4 But added she, with a sigh scarcely warranted by the occa 
 sion, ' this is a strange world we live in ; people are brought 
 together one way and another, who never expected to meet 
 again this side of the grave.' 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Men of thought ! be up and stirring 
 
 Night and day ; 
 Sow the seed, withdraw the curtain, 
 
 Clear the way ! 
 Men of action, aid and cheer them, 
 
 As ye may ! 
 There's a midnight blackness changing 
 
 Into grey ; 
 Men of thought and action, 
 
 Clear the way ! 
 
 THE village in which Mr. Vaughan's homestead was situated 
 was fortunate in having been started (to use a familiar ex 
 pression) by a number of intelligent and enterprising men, 
 who had, through their praiseworthy exertions, given the 
 place an established character and a prominence among the 
 thriving towns of the country. Besides churches of three 
 different denominations, it now boasted a neat school-house, 
 an extensive flour- mill, and a handsome block of stores, the 
 upper story of which constituted a convenient and capacious 
 town-hall, which was first made use of for the purpose of 
 public speaking on the night of Percival's address. This 
 latter circumstance, together with the wide-spread popularity 
 of the young orator, caused the occasion to be one of uni 
 versal interest, and at an early hour the spacious room was 
 thronged by an eager and attentive audience. A stout and 
 honest trader, a supervisor of the town, occupied a seat on the 
 platform at the left of that intended for the speaker ; and in 
 a similar place of honour on the right sat Mr. Vaughan, who, 
 as the oldest citizen, the largest land-owner, and, above all, 
 the perfect type of a grave, respectable gentleman, invariably 
 received from his fellow-townsmen similar voluntary marks of 
 distinction and deference. 
 
380 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 The hour appointed for the address was just at hand. No 
 orator had yet made his appearance, and a murmur of disap 
 pointment and inquiry was beginning to circulate through the 
 crowd, when the tall and commanding form of Percival issued 
 from its midst. With a perfectly calm, unruffled air he 
 ascended the platform, shook hands with Mr. Vaughan and 
 the supervisor, and looking round upon his audience with a 
 smile of approbation, sat down and exchanged a few words 
 with the gentlemen on either side of him. Then, observing 
 that the hand of the clock pointed exactly the time agreed 
 upon, he signified by a gesture his readiness to commence, and 
 the sturdy trader, in fulfilment of his functions, rose and intro 
 duced him to the audience, who having in the meantime scanned 
 his countenance and proportions, and, as American citizens 
 are wont to do, established their individual opinions of his 
 merits, greeted him with a unanimous and unqualified round of 
 applause. 
 
 It was at this moment that Mabel and her nephews, some 
 what heated and out of breath from their hasty meal and rapid 
 walk, entered the gallery, which, although the entire assembly 
 was freely interspersed with women, had been especially 
 reserved for ladies. 
 
 4 There's Miss Vaughan and her boys/ said a cousin of 
 Melissa, wife to the innkeeper, addressing herself to two young 
 girls whom Mabel was in the habit of instructing in the Sabbath 
 School. * Move up, Elizy. Can't you make a little room, 
 Euphemy ? I want to ofier her this seat here in front. La, 
 now ! don't she look splendid ? If the speaker could only 
 catch sight of her, wouldn't he be inspired ?' And standing up 
 and gesticulating violently to Alick, she contrived to let him 
 understand that his aunt could be accommodated beside her, to 
 which place Mabel was with some difficulty piloted ; and after 
 thanking the obliging landlady and expressing a hope that she 
 should riot incommode any one, she seated herself, and as the 
 din of applause subsided, her eye for the first time sought the 
 platform. 
 
 Had the young man indeed depended on Mabel for his inspi 
 ration, he could scarcely have bestowed on her a more earnest 
 look than that which met her gaze, as at this moment he lifted 
 his face and fixed his full blue eye upon her. As she encoun 
 tered that expressive glance, her face, neck, and brow were 
 suffused with crimson ; and when next it was turned upon his 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 381 
 
 audience, she listened with straining ear and breath suspended* 
 as if the fate of nations hung upon his first word. 
 
 < Aunt Mabel !' exclaimed Murray, in an eager, excited 
 whisper, at the same time leaning forward from a seat behind 
 her and striving to attract her attention, * It is yes it is 
 our hunter our prairie friend our fellow-traveller !' 
 
 4 Hush !' cried Alick, in an earnest, dissuasive tone ; his 
 quicker sensibilities revealing to him at a glance the emotions 
 which were depicted in Mabel's countenance ; ' There is no 
 need to tell her that ; she sees she knows.' 
 
 There was indeed no mistaking the identity of the two 
 individuals, for except that the wide-awake hat was laid aside 
 and the hunting-suit exchanged for one of plain black cloth, 
 the Percival who stood before them now was the Bayard who 
 bidden them farewell less than half an hour ago. 
 
 The silence that succeeded the first burst of enthusiastic 
 welcome which had greeted the speaker was so intense and 
 profound that even the warning words of Alick sank to the 
 faintest whisper, lest they might disturb the motionless expect 
 ancy which prevailed through the assembly, as Percival, in a 
 clear and melodious voice, opened his address by a simple 
 statement of the causes and motives for his presenting himself 
 before them. 
 
 His calm but earnest manner, his language, at once plain, 
 forcible, and marked by perfect truth, and, perhaps, more than 
 all, his commanding presence, and an eye which seemed to 
 address its appeal to each individual heart, had the effect of at 
 once concentrating and riveting the attention of an audience 
 composed, for the most part, of plain and unpretending, but 
 intelligent and self-respecting men. Accustomed to the noisy 
 rant and bombastic parade of professed caucus oratory, and 
 manfully steeled against the wily sophistry and noisy partizan- 
 ship of the greedy aspirants after popular favour, they were all 
 the more ready to give a willing and impartial hearing to one 
 who, unshackled by the excitement of political ambition, made 
 no appeal to their prejudices or their passions, but addressed 
 himself, and recommended his cause, to that sound reason and 
 enlightened conscience on which they prided themselves as free 
 men and worthy citizens. Thus, as he stated his argument in 
 plain, unvarnished terms, many a corroborating and assenting 
 nod, on the part of the audience, proclaimed their conviction of 
 its truth. As he announced the conclusion to which he himself 
 
382 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 had been led, a murmur of approbation seemed to intimate that 
 each mind acknowledged him as its fit interpreter; and when, 
 finally, with that pathos and eloquence which have their source 
 in the deep emotions of a true and noble nature, he sought to 
 rouse them, and bid them listen to the solemn call of duty, the 
 heart of the multitude throbbed responsively, like the heart of 
 one man. 
 
 No studied oratory, no hollow declamation, could thus have 
 fired with generous warmth that rude, but candid and earnest 
 assemblage. The secret of the speaker's power lay in his 
 sincerity ; in the fact that the cause which he came to 
 proclaim had stirred and roused his own spirit like a trumpet- 
 call. He had hitherto voted at the polls, and expressed his 
 political views, as a simple, conscientious discharge of manly 
 duty ; but, busy at home, and seeking nothing from abroad, 
 he had wisely forborne to put himself forward as a gladiator 
 in party strife. The case, however, was changed now. A 
 great issue had arisen, and a great crisis was at hand an issue 
 between injustice and oppression on one side, and the law of 
 right and humanity on the other. The crisis involved a 
 country's prosperity and a nation's honour. Therefore a true 
 man (and such was Bayard Percival) could not remain a 
 silent and inactive spectator, in a scene where he was nobly 
 fitted to bear a part. He knew his power and felt his 
 responsibility. His power was that of an honest man ; his 
 responsibility, that of a Christian. Had it been otherwise, 
 he might have spoken to closed ears, and failed to convince a 
 single heart. But a character as free from wild fanaticism 
 on the one hand, as from cold conservatism on the other, 
 had given him the people's confidence ; while the purity of his 
 motives and aims inspired him with a wisdom and a power 
 which caused his words to be received as little less than 
 oracles. 
 
 1 Had one come among you/ exclaimed he, ' who, possessed 
 of the spirit of misrule, prompted by one-sided and misdi 
 rected zeal, or excited by a blind enthusiasm, should bid you 
 set at defiance every claim but that which he came to advo 
 cate, and rush into indiscriminate warfare with the enemy 
 against whom all his passions were inflamed, I would simply 
 charge you to beware, lest, while seeking by desperate and 
 unsanctified means to promote the welfare of one brotherhood 
 of men, you trampled under foot the rights, the property, and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 383 
 
 the lives of another, which should be to you equally dear and 
 sacred. 
 
 1 But, on the other hand, I would with equal fervour bid 
 you beware of that sluggishness of the soul, that fatal indiffer 
 ence to truth and humanity, to which our very prosperity 
 renders us prone, and would charge you as freemen, as citizens, 
 and as Christians, to maintain inviolate the principles which 
 you profess, and stand ever as sentinels on the watch-tower 
 reared for the protection of civil liberty, and the promotion of 
 individual freedom. We may riot at once extirpate the 
 poison which has distilled itself into some portion of our body 
 politic ; but we can at least guard the members which are 
 free from its subtle influence, and preserve pure and unsullied 
 those fresh fountains of strength which are at length destined 
 to infuse new health and vigour throughout the length and 
 breadth of the Republic.' 
 
 Then, changing his tone from that of earnest appeal to one 
 of simple, descriptive power, he directed the thoughts and 
 attention of his audience to that beautiful sister soil, then be 
 ginning to be the subject of national legislation, and painted, 
 with all the warmth of the enthusiastic traveller, and all the 
 simplicity and force of the practical husbandman, the beauty, 
 the wealth, and the resources of that favoured land. His 
 countenance and words bore the impress of perfect truth, 'as, 
 in an unvarnished narrative of facts, he described the richness 
 of her virgin soil, and the nature and extent of the productions 
 it was capable of yielding. His eye glowed with the anima 
 tion of the sportsman, and the inspiration of the poetic soul, as 
 lie dwelt on the grandeur of those primeval forests in which he 
 had hunted, and roamed, and meditated ; jiis broad chest 
 seemed to expand and his form to rear itself to an increased 
 height, as he expatiated on the generations of noble men and 
 women which such a land was capable of inspiring to high 
 thoughts and generous deeds. And when, finally, having 
 stirred the hearts of the assembly by his faithful representation 
 of what this fair domain might, at no distant period, become, 
 he commended her to their brotherly love, all were not. only 
 ready, but eager to extend the right hand of fellowship to 
 their young and promising neighbour. 
 
 But there was another and darker side to the picture, and 
 this he now hastened to set before them in all its sad defor 
 mity and gloom. He employed no fanatical abuse or tirade 
 
384 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 for the furtherance of his purpose, but with calm, prophetic 
 warning, pointed to the blight already hovering in the air, the 
 cloud already darkening in the distance and threatening to 
 overshadow and destroy the fair harvest of men's hopes. ' To 
 what,' asked he, * are you indebted for your own unexampled 
 prosperity ? is it not to the equality of human rights, the 
 dignity which attends free and honest labour, the universal 
 education of your children and the spread of Gospel truth ? 
 And shall any or all of these be denied to our sister territory ? 
 I charge you, as those who have a voice in this great decision, 
 to answer the solemn question shall that fatal institution be 
 suffered to settle down upon the land, which dooms one race 
 to slavery and dishonour and another to stagnation and decay ? 
 Shall that rich soil become the ground of the task-master, 
 those noble woods the retreat of the fugitive ? Shall progress 
 be checked, and the voice of truth be silenced, and man's 
 better nature crushed? Forbid it, Heaven! Forbid it, ye 
 who by word, by look, by honest vote, may command one 
 breath of influence and bear a freeman's part in averting so 
 fearful a catastrophe ! Let it not be said that the poison has 
 penetrated to the seat of life, and that here, in the heart of 
 our free and enlightened State, there are traitors to the cause 
 of truth. Let us at least, a united and determined band, 
 present our closed ranks against the inroads of perfidious 
 counsels, and let the district which we serve be foremost iu 
 proclaiming that Nebraska shall be free.' 
 
 At this period in Percival's address, the audience, who had 
 more than once expressed their enthusiasm by unqualified 
 applause, rose simultaneously from their seats, and amid the 
 waving of hands, hats and handkerchiefs, caught up and 
 echoed by common consent his closing words * Nebraska 
 shall be free !' 
 
 Great as was the clamour, however, it subsided almost 
 instantly, as looking around him with unmoved countenance 
 lie continued in a calm, earnest tone. i I have not come 
 hither, my friends, so much to excite, as to convince you not 
 merely to rouse your generous patriotism, but to urge upon 
 you now, and in view of similar contingencies, that fair, firm 
 and consistent action by which alone you can lend your aid to 
 the security and extension of the cause of freedom. It is 
 because a crisis has arisen, to which the nation at large seems 
 strangely indifferent, and because such occasions must, from 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN". 385 
 
 time to time, occur so long as we are a people divided upon 
 one great topic, that I have endeavoured to awaken you to 
 the importance of the event ; for while I may speak and you 
 may honour me by a hearing, responsibility and action belong 
 to us all alike. As good men and true, let us see to it then 
 that in our hearts and in our homes, in the every-day walks of 
 life and at the polls, we cherish and maintain those high and 
 sacred principles which policy, reason, and an enlightened 
 Christianity, alike approve.' Then, with the solemnity and 
 fervour of one whose daily walk with God kept him ever 
 mindful of the Sacred Presence, he commended the assembly 
 to the guidance and direction of Him in whose hands all men 
 are but as instruments and the address was ended. 
 
 From the commencement of the lecture to the moment 
 when applause was at its height, the impulsive and excitable 
 disposition of Murray had exhibited itself in the animation of 
 his countenance, the eagerness of his gestures, and the vehe 
 mence of his cheers; Alick, in the meantime, remaining 
 thoughtful, quiet, and attentive, manifesting to those around 
 him no other sign of emotion than that conveyed by the 
 intense earnestness with which his eye was fixed upon the 
 speaker. The most ardent sensibilities, however, are seldom 
 those which appear on the surface, and the soul of the elder 
 boy was none the less stirred, that it found no outward 
 expression save in a single movement, which appealed to but 
 one person present, and that perhaps the only one in the 
 throng capable of appreciating his delicately-organized and 
 susceptible nature. At that crisis in the feelings of the 
 assembly when with one accord they rose and joined in 
 common acclamation, the youth might have been observed to 
 leave his seat, a little in the rear of Mabel, and darting down 
 the aisle which divided the gallery, ensconce himself on the 
 lowest step directly beside his young aunt, who turned, met 
 the earnest look which he fixed upon her face, responded to it 
 with an answering smile, clasped his extended hand, and the 
 boy, feeling himself to be understood by the only being whose 
 sympathy and approbation he craved, was satisfied and 
 content ; nor did he once again change his position or remove 
 his eye from that of Percival until the close of the oration. 
 
 "We may not probe the reflections which coursed through 
 the mind of the boy, far less can we follow all the windings of 
 that train of thought and emotion which partially revealed 
 
 2 c 
 
386 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 itself in the face of Mabel, as she, too, watched the expression 
 of Percival's countenance, and drank in the inspiration of his 
 words. For the first half-hour succeeding her entrance, she 
 \vas wholly engrossed by the tumultuous and agitating thoughts 
 which attended her recognition of the speaker. Already, 
 though known to her only by the report of his manly virtues, 
 she had imaged him to herself as the impersonation of all that 
 was truly noble, disinterested, and heroic ; and now, in addi 
 tion to every other claim which he possessed to her esteem, 
 respect, and gratitude, he had suddenly proved to be identical 
 with the man who, years before, in the hour of her bitter 
 agony and humiliation, had won for himself a lasting place 
 in her memory and her prayers, and who once more, on this 
 very day, had by his kindly efforts in her behalf, confirmed 
 her sense of deep and personal obligation. No wonder, then, 
 that from the moment when the harmonious tones of his 
 voice fell upon her ear, confirming, as it were, the evidence 
 of her other senses, she was for awhile unconscious of the 
 subject of his discourse, and realized only his individual 
 presence. 
 
 She could not long, however, continue indifferent to the 
 topic which evidently, for the time, engrossed all the powers 
 of his master mind, and reacted proportionately upon his 
 audience. Her kindling eye and cheek soon gave evidence of 
 the intelligence with which she grasped the ideas, and the 
 fulness with which she shared the enthusiasm of the speaker; 
 the tear which now and then trembled on her eyelid, was 
 sjgnificant of the sensibility awakened by the pathos which 
 marked some portions of his appeal, and when, finally, the 
 Christian orator commended them all to the keeping of their 
 common Father, her face was expressive of the fervent aspira 
 tions of the uplifted soul. 
 
 The heart that has been stirred to its utmost depths by the 
 power of an eloquent and truthful tongue, shrinks almost with 
 a sense of pain from those common-place questionings and 
 rejoinders which disturb an elevated train of thought, arid 
 grate harshly upon the refined taste. Thus, the impulse which 
 led the shy and reserved Alick to exclaim in a whisper to 
 Mabel, as soon as the address drew to a termination, * Let us 
 try and get out before the crowd, auntie,' met with a corre 
 sponding prompting on her part; but finding that the susrges- 
 tion could not be, carried into effect without indecorous haste, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 387 
 
 and the possibility of giving offence, she made the best of her 
 situation, suffered herself to be carried along with the rest of 
 the throng, and responded good-naturedly to the various com 
 ments arid criticisms upon the orator and the oration which 
 saluted her on every side. Murray, meanwhile, acting as 
 their pilot, made himself, as he never failed to do, universally 
 popular by his boyish gallantry to the farmers' wives, his 
 rattling and jocose conversation with sturdy and rough-looking 
 men, and his droll and mischievous pranks with little children, 
 and boys of his own age, preserving, at the same time, a spice 
 of aristocratic dignity which characterised him, and so mar 
 shalling his aunt and brother through the thickest of the 
 press, that to their astonishment they found themselves among 
 the earliest to leave the building. 
 
 * Isn't he a splendid fellow, Aunt Mabel ?' exclaimed 
 Murray, as they hastened in the direction of home. * Didn't 
 you feel proud of him ? I did. "Wasn't it grand to think our 
 prairie friend turned out, after all, to be the orator of the 
 evening ?' 
 
 ' Yes, very,' replied Mabel, in an absent way ; but Murray, 
 too much excited to need further encouragement, rattled on 
 for some time in a, similar strain, and closed by saying in a 
 tone of confidence, ' Al liked it, I know, because he didn't say 
 a word ; he never does when he's pleased ; but,' added the 
 boy, who had now learned to love and appreciate his brother, 
 ' he'll prove it to us one of these days, I expect, in a way that 
 speaks louder than words.' 
 
 ' Alick will not forget it very soon, shall you, Alick?' said 
 Mabel. 
 
 ' Nobody who heard it will ever forget it,' said Alick. 
 
 * Aunt Mabel/ cried Murray, ' did you see how interested 
 grandfather was ?' 
 
 ' Yes, Murray, he looked ten years younger than usual 
 to-night.' 
 
 * And he will bring Mr. Percival home with him, won't 
 he? I saw him shaking hands with him after the lecture.' 
 
 Mabel had no doubt of it, as their uncle Harry had assured 
 her that his friend brought a note of introduction to her 
 father. 
 
 ' Well here we are,' cried Murray, as he threw open the 
 house door. * Aunt Sabiah talks about coincidences. We 
 have got one to tell her how that will make her open her eyes. 
 
 2 c 2 
 
338 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 'My sister, Miss Vaughan my daughter my grand 
 sons,' said Mr. Vaughan, with ceremonious gravity, as about 
 half-an-hour later he ushered Percival into the parlour and 
 introduced him to his family. 
 
 Miss Sabiah made her usual stiff courtesy'; but the young 
 people, to the no small astonishment of Mr. Vaughan, came 
 forward, almost before the words had left his lips, and shook 
 hands with their guest, not with the air of those who are 
 making a new acquaintance, but with the prompt cordiality 
 with which one welcomes a familiar friend ; while the smiles 
 which were interchanged, and the mutual congratulations and 
 good understanding which succeeded, proved them to have 
 previous knowledge of one another. 
 
 ' You perceive, Sir, that I am not a stranger to your family,* 
 said Percival. ' I had the pleasure of travelling in company 
 with them, this afternoon.' 
 
 1 And we,' said Mabel, ' in our anxiety to do honour to our 
 expected guest, suffered him to walk nearly a dozen miles over 
 the prairie. We could not have taken advantage of your 
 kindness with a quiet conscience, if we had known the effort 
 you would be called upon to make this evening.' 
 
 ' I assure you, that neither walking nor public speaking is 
 an effort to me,' said Percival. ' I have accustomed myself, 
 in the superintendence of my farm, to go over twice as much 
 ground as I have done to-day, and, perhaps, the same cause 
 has insured me healthy lungs. I only hope that you and my 
 voung friends here feel as little tired as I do.' 
 
 They all disclaimed any weariness from their journey ; and 
 then, to relieve Mr. Vaughan's perplexity, Percival gave an 
 outline of their little adventure, treating the matter lightly, 
 however, and claiming no merit for the essential aid he had 
 rendered. 
 
 As it appeared, upon inquiry, that he had had no oppor 
 tunity for refreshment of any sort since he halted at a village 
 tavern, a little before mid-day, Mabel hastened from the room, 
 ' on hospitable thought intent/ and while Mr. Percival engaged 
 her father upon the subject of agriculture, and especially 
 Harry's successful farming, in which the old gentleman had 
 never before appeared to take the slightest interest, she assisted 
 Melissa in spreading a table and preparing an inviting repast. 
 All were soon gathered round the neat and plentiful board, at 
 which Mabel presided with as much grace and dignity as if she 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 389 
 
 had held the seat of honour in her father's New York mansion, 
 with Robert, the well-trained footman, standing behind her 
 chair. Aunt Sabiah, who had long since resigned all respon 
 sible offices, occupied a seat at her niece's right hand, and, as 
 she only joined the rest for sociability's sake, kept on with her 
 knitting that favourite employment which she now no longer 
 pursued from habit merely, since Alick, Murray, and even 
 Harry, despite his former raillery, had long since found a way 
 to give shape to the warm stockings, for which they were 
 indebted to her industry. Mr. Vaughan, contrary to his usual 
 habits, sipped a cup of chocolate, while Percival and the 
 boys (boys are always hungry) did justice to the cold ham, 
 bread, arid tarts. The appetites of all were fully satisfied, 
 however, and still they lingered at the table. Mr. Vaughan, 
 ordinarily silent arid reserved, was roused to animation and 
 interest, as he conversed with Percival on the gfeat events of 
 the day. Sabiah forgot her shyness, and the drowsiness which 
 usually overtook her at intervals was effectually dispersed, as 
 their young guest illustrated the subjects under discussion by 
 many a sparkling anecdote or striking incident. The boys 
 were encouraged to contribute their share to the social inter 
 change of thought ; and Mabel's opinions and feelings were 
 deferred to with that consideration which high minded men are 
 ever ready to pay to intelligent women. Thus midnight found 
 them still enjoying each other's society, and it was not until 
 the loud-striking clock reminded them of the hour, that, with 
 mutual expressions of surprise at its being so late, the little 
 party separated for the night. 
 
 ' Good morning, auntie,' cried Murray, as, the next day- 
 soon after sunrise, he called to her from outside the pantry, 
 adjoining the kitchen, where she was busy in making some 
 preparation for breakfast ; and as he spoke, the affectionate, 
 thoughtless boy flung open the blinds and disclosed the figure 
 of Mabel standing just within the open window, moulding 
 some biscuit with the cover of the dredging-box which she 
 held in her hand. 
 
 His salutation was responded to with heartiness and good 
 humour, nor did the young housewife blush, or seem in the 
 least disconcerted, upon perceiving their guest, who, dressed 
 in his hunting suit, and with rifle on his shoulder, was 
 leaving the hou>e with the boys, and who, like them, paused to 
 inquire after her health and speak of the beauty of the morning. 
 
390 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 And why should she blush ? On the contrary, she had 
 reason to be proud of the picture which the sunshine revealed, 
 as it streamed through the apartment. The spotless shelves, 
 with their glittering rows of pans, the almost polished floor, 
 the exquisite order and neatness of all the domestic para 
 phernalia, were only equalled by the good taste and harmony 
 observable in the person of the fair mistress of the establish 
 ment, who, attired in a simple lilac print (none the less 
 becoming to her faultless figure because her own hands had 
 made it), with a snowy collar, and smooth, glossy hair, stood 
 radiant with the beauty of the girl, and serene with the chas 
 tened benignity of womanhood. 
 
 ' We have heard some wild ducks in the direction of the 
 river,' said Percival, ' and are going to have a shot at them.' 
 
 * I shall come home with a proof of my skill ; see if J don't, 
 Aunt Mabel !" cried Murray, running forward and gaily toss 
 ing his cap in the air. 
 
 Percival and Alick followed, laughing at Murray's con 
 fidence and zeal. Mabel wished them success, and stood 
 looking after them a moment, her rosy-tipped fingers, slightly 
 besprinkled with flour, resting meanwhile on the moulding- 
 board ; then closing the blinds, without, however, shutting out 
 from the mind's eye the image of that manly form and open 
 countenance which carried with them a cheerful and magical 
 influence, she quietly resumed her occupation. After de 
 livering the pan of biscuit to Melissa's charge, and leaving to 
 her, also, the cooking of Bayard's prairie fowl, in the serving 
 of which she was an adept, Mabel joined her aunt in the 
 parlour, and had not yet laid down the Bible, from which she 
 had, by Sabiah's request, been reading a chapter aloud, when 
 the sportsmen returned from their excursion to the river 
 side. 
 
 4 Ah, you have been fortunate, Murray !' said she, as she 
 observed a pair of silver-breasted ducks, which the latter had 
 thrown down upon the grass. 
 
 * Yes,' said the boy, in a slightly-disappointed tone, ' but 
 Alick shot them.' 
 
 * Murray spoke just before he fired,' said Percival, ' and 
 startled them, so that they rose ; then Alick fired the other 
 barrel, and shot them on the wing.' 
 
 Mabel looked meaningly at Murray and laughed. 
 
 'I know,' said Murray,- good-naturedly. ' I thought of it 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 391 
 
 myself; it is just as yon always say, auntie, I do the boasting 
 and Al carries away the prize/ 
 
 6 Must you leave us so early'?' said Mr. Vaughan, in a tone 
 of positive regret, as immediately after breakfast Bayard's 
 horse was brought to the door. 
 
 ' I fear I must, sir,' replied Percival, turning away from 
 Rosy's picture, at which he had been gazing attentively ; ' a 
 similar duty to that which brought me here last night must 
 carry me to-day to a distance of some forty miles ; but I hope 
 at some future time to have the privilege of enjoying and 
 returning your hospitality.' 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, seeming for the first time to realize that his 
 present home could be rendered attractive, pressed upon 
 Bayard his desire to welcome him there as often as might be, 
 and still further astonished his family by declaring that he was 
 soon going to see Harry, and would take the same opportunity 
 of paying Mr. Percival a visit. 
 
 Mabel was standing on the door-step when Bayard came to 
 bid her farewell. He had shaken hands with Sabiah in the 
 inner room. Mr. Vaughan and the boys had walked down to 
 the roadside, where James was attaching the saddlebags to the 
 saddle. For the first time, therefore, she saw him apart from 
 the rest of the household. She gave him a few last messages 
 for his mother; then, as he lingered, evidently loth to depart, 
 she said in a hesitating, tremulous voice, ' It is now more than 
 six years, Mr. Percival, since you did me a kindness which 
 few would have attempted, and which few could have done. 
 I have never thanked you I never can but I trust you 
 believe that I can never forget it.' 
 
 1 Miss Vaughan,' said he, ' I did only what common hu 
 manity demanded of one who had the soul of a man ; it has 
 been left for you to teach me the higher and holier lesson of 
 what may be accomplished by a woman. Your brother makes 
 no secret, with his friends, at least, of the priceless blessings 
 which he owes to a sister's love.' 
 
 ' Harry has an appreciating disposition/ said Mabel, ' and 
 his good heart makes him grateful for the affection and kind 
 ness which he always feels to be beyond his merits. The 
 events of that night, which are so fixed in my memory, have 
 happily passed from his, but of your consistent friendship in 
 later years he can never say enough.' 
 
 i It is a friendship which is invaluable to me/ said Per- 
 
392 MABEL VAHGHAX. 
 
 cival. ' Harry is a noble fellow, worthy of the sister who has 
 made him what he is. I am most proud and happy to have 
 met you again, Miss Vaughan. He paused, seemed anxious 
 to add something more hesitated; and then, with an em 
 barrassment foreign to his usual manner, bade her an abrupt 
 farewell. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan and the boys, after seeing him ride off, walked 
 slowly back to the house, and the ordinary events of their 
 daily life succeeded. But, although Percival had been their 
 guest for one night only, his presence and influence had left 
 no ordinary impression upon every individual of the family, 
 and it was long before any of them could cease to be conscious 
 of the void which his departure had created in their circle. 
 
( 393 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Bread of our souls whereon we feed ; 
 
 True manna from on high ! 
 Our guide and chart ! wherein we read 
 
 Of realms beyond the sky. 
 
 BERNARD BARTON. 
 
 EVER since the period of Mr. Grade's sickness and death, 
 the mind of Mr. Vaughan had seemed in some degree weaned 
 from the one haunting and harrowing subject to which its 
 energies had for the last ten years been directed; and the 
 River Valley Railroad, with all the expectations involved in 
 it, though not abandoned by him, had ceased to absorb his 
 thoughts. The saddening and solemnizing event which had 
 deprived him of a valued friend, could not fail to remind him 
 of the mortality which sets bounds to all earthly schemes. 
 The presence of the bereaved orphan in his household had 
 excited in him a truly paternal sympathy ; and finally, her 
 marriage with his son, in which he took a deeper satisfaction 
 than was suffered to appear, had imparted to his present ex 
 perience a genuine and touching interest, which had for a time 
 dispelled the eager and calculating spirit by which he had 
 hitherto been actuated. 
 
 Thus he was, as we have seen on the occasion of Percival's 
 visit, more than usually alive to topics relating to the public 
 welfare, and not only took upon himself readily the duties of 
 a host, but manifested in the young man's society a pleasure 
 and animation truly astonishing to those who knew him only 
 as the abstracted, self-absorbed, and disappointed man. 
 
 Scarcely had this agreeable episode in his ordinary life 
 terminated, however, when the old man once more became a 
 prey .to the all-engrossing object of his fond aspirations, and 
 the mind which had partially recovered its equanimity, was 
 plunged into the mad vortex of bewildering and exciting emo 
 tions. 
 
394 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 That effervescent and speculative portion of the community, 
 which is ever anxious to push the car of progress to an alarm 
 ing rate of speed, and on whom Mr. Vaughan had throughout 
 based all his reliance, began once more to turn their eyes to 
 that comprehensive scheme of public improvement, which in 
 cluded the realization of his hopes ; and the torch thus kindled 
 proved all*sufficient to fire his slumbering energies with a 
 new and lively enthusiasm. Communications were received 
 and despatched by every mail ; Mabel and the boys being em 
 ployed as amanuenses by the enfeebled man, whose trembling 
 hand could no longer keep pace with his excited ideas. Mes 
 sengers arrived from various directions, engineers and survey 
 ors made their appearance in the vicinity, and routes, bounda 
 ries and grades, stocks, contracts, and government appropria 
 tions were the engrossing subjects of thought, conversation, 
 arid correspondence. Once more the roll of charts, recently 
 fallen into comparative disuse, was brought forward, examined, 
 and allotted a conspicuous place on the table of the little par 
 lour, now become the scene of eager consultation ; and once 
 more old Sorrell was called into requisition for those journey- 
 ings which Mr. Vaughan, despite his years, undertook as rea 
 dily as in former times, usually accompanied, however, by one 
 of his grandsons, both of whom shared Mabel's anxious sense 
 of responsibility concerning him. 
 
 But this period of suspense and agitation proved as short 
 lived as it was sudden and engrossing. Difficulties presented 
 themselves on every hand, public appropriations were refused, 
 private resources failed to be forthcoming, discouragement 
 succeeded discouragement, and finally, after a fortnight of 
 vain discussion, the originators of the movement, having ex 
 hausted their fruitless zeal, dropped off one by one, and the 
 early pilot on this voyage of adventure found himself, as he 
 had so often done before, standing solitary and deserted amid 
 the wreck of his fallen hopes. 
 
 It was too much for him ; and on the day when, forsaken by 
 his allies, he beheld the downfall of the last stronghold on 
 which his expectations had been founded, he turned his steps 
 homeward, and, with a despairing countenance, trembling gait, 
 and hoary head sunk upon his breast, declined all nourish 
 ment, and sought his bed, from which he seemed destined 
 never to rise again. 
 
 was it mental despondency alone which had thus re- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 395 
 
 duced him. In his eager pursuit of the fortune which he felt 
 to be at length almost within his grasp, he had spared himself 
 neither privation, exposure, nor fatigue, frequently continuing 
 abroad until a late hour, unprotected from the heavy night- 
 dews, eating his meals with but little appetite or regularity, 
 and deprived, by excitement, of all natural and refreshing 
 rest. These circumstances, acting upon a constitution already 
 enfeebled by anxiety and years, could have but one result ; 
 and when, at last, the suspense was ended, and the blow of 
 final disappointment struck home, it was disease no less than 
 despair, which prostrated the aged man, and alarmed his family 
 at once for his reason and his life. 
 
 He asked no questions, expressed no wants, and made no 
 complaints; his only sign of intelligence being conveyed in the 
 mournful inquiry with which he scanned the faces about him, 
 as if seeking to discover whether his family-shared his anguish 
 at the bursting of fortune's bubble ; and it was not until symp 
 toms of pneumonia made their appearance, that the village 
 physician was summoned and his condition rightly understood. 
 
 All ordinary avocations were now abandoned, and the whole 
 household united in attentions and devotion to one whom 
 Mabel's example, no less than their own feelings, had taught 
 them to regard with that tenderness which is usually paid 
 exclusively to infancy. His comfortable bed-room opened 
 directly into their only parlour ; but the perfect quiet which 
 reigned there was never disturbed by this circumstance, for 
 even Murray shared the general solicitude, and softened his 
 voice instinctively the moment he entered the house. Mabel, 
 whose capabilities as a nurse had been well proved already, 
 was ever at the post of duty, reinforced and aided, however, 
 by Alick, who, patient, gentle, and capable as a woman, placed 
 himself at his grandfather's bedside and waited on him with an 
 assiduity which was touching in a boy of his years. Thus 
 nursed with the most faithful devotion, and preserved from 
 every agitating sight and sound, it soon became evident that 
 while Mr. Vaughan's outward man was wrestling with deep- 
 seated disease, and his life hung, as it were, upon a thread, 
 his mind was gradually resuming more than its wonted calm 
 ness, and his face was marked with serenity and repose. His 
 eye, which at times had been penetrating in its stare, or blank 
 with vacuity, now wore a mild, benignant expression as it was 
 turned upon his daughter, sister, and grandchildren ; and as he 
 
396 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 watched their movements about his room, his countenance 
 indicated pleasure and satisfaction at the peace, harmony, and 
 good order which pervaded the apartment. 
 
 As his disease approached the stage when the physician 
 confessed apprehensions for the life of his patient, Murray was 
 despatched to communicate the tidings to Harry and Helen, 
 who hastened to him without delay; but, on their arrival, the 
 crisis had already passed, the patient had rallied, and there 
 was now a prospect of his speedy recovery. 
 
 * I thought I never should see you again, my boy,' said the 
 feeble invalid, as he stretched out his wasted hand and clasped 
 that of his son in cordial and tender greeting. 1 1 have been 
 very ill.' 
 
 The strong man was subdued in Harry, as he beheld the 
 wasted form of his father, and marked the unusual depth and 
 pathos of his tones. He could not trust himself to speak, but 
 sat down at the head of the bed, a little out of sight. 
 
 * I have had another disappointment, Harry,' said the old 
 man, in a low expressive tone, at the same time turning his 
 head a little that he might see his son's face. ' Did you know 
 that?' 
 
 * Yes, father,' said Harry ; < I know all about it, and I hope 
 it is the last you will ever have on the subject. It is not worth 
 a regret, except for the illness it has caused you. No advan 
 tage we could have from that quarter could make us half so 
 happy as we shall be now, when we see you well again.' 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, who had turned his eyes in another direc 
 tion, once more fixed them on his son, as if to judge of his 
 sincerity; then apparently satisfied, he inquired for Helen, 
 who at once came forward, saying, * Here I am, Sir, only 
 waiting my turn !' 
 
 He smiled affectionately upon her, thanked her for coming 
 so far to see a sick old man, made her sit down on the side of 
 his bed, and would have tired himself with questioning her 
 concerning her new home, but the doctor fortunately came in 
 at the moment and saved him from the consequences of too 
 much fatigue. 
 
 * Leave the door open, Mabel,' said he, when his daughter, 
 who, later in the evening came to bring him a cup of tea, 
 was about to close the door opening into the parlour. * Do 
 not be afraid of disturbing me ; I like to hear you talk. 
 Inquire of Harry about his farm, and his crops, and tell him 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 397 
 
 about Mr. Percival's visit to us, and his address to the 
 people.' 
 
 Wondering, scarcely daring to trust the evidence of her 
 senses, Mabel did as she was requested, asking herself, mean 
 while, what could have awakened in her hitherto self-absorbed 
 and indifferent parent, such a thoughtful interest in his chil 
 dren's conversation and pursuits. She half suspected that it 
 had its source in feverish excitement, and that he would ex 
 perience, in consequence, a wakeful night, possibly a relapse. 
 But, on the contrary, the soft murmur of pleasant voices 
 seemed to have a soothing influence upon the invalid, for his 
 sleep was more than usually refreshing, and, so far from his 
 suffering a relapse, two days after, when Harry and Helen 
 left to return home, he was decidedly convalescent. 
 
 One evening, while he was still confined to his bed, Mabel, 
 who had been sitting beside him for an hour or more, rose, 
 listened a moment to his regular breathing, then, believing 
 him to be asleep, went cautiously out into the parlour, and, 
 in her anxiety to close the latch gently, unintentionally left 
 the door ajar. It was the season of the brilliant harvest 
 moon, whose rays were streaming across the floor, and Sabiah, 
 who always loved a moonlight night, was enjoying it at her 
 favourite window. Weary with the labours of the day, and 
 suffering also from a headache, which was unusual to her, 
 Mabel approached with a languid step, and, sitting down on 
 a lo\v footstool, leaned against her aunt's knees. They had 
 remained thus in silence for some time, when Sabiah almost 
 startled her niece by the abruptness and warmth with which 
 she exclaimed, ' Mabel, I am afraid you will be an old maid !' 
 
 The low, merry laugh which succeeded Mabel's first asto 
 nishment at her aunt's earnestness, seemed to signify how little 
 she dreaded the doom of which Sabiah had such a fearful fore 
 boding. 
 
 ' Ay, you may laugh now,' said Sabiah, 'but it will be a 
 different thing when you come to be an old woman and have 
 nobody to love you, or take care of you. You think you 
 can't do enough for these boys, and Harry, and your father, 
 and me, and you never stop to ask what is going to become of 
 yourself. It's well enough, now, while you can have the 
 comfort of feeling that we couldn't do without you, but what 
 if you should find yourself at last all alone in the world, with 
 nobody to care whether you lived or died ?' 
 
398 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 ' Has it been so with you, aunt ?' asked Mabel. 
 
 1 No, child !' answered Sabiah, with feeling-, at the same 
 time smoothing Mabel's hair tenderly with her hand. * I 
 thank God for the mercy with which He is leading 1 me on the 
 downhill of life. But don't trust to my experience. You 
 won't find another Mabel in the world.' 
 
 ' I shall always find somebody to love,' said Mabel ; ' some 
 body to whom I can be of use.' 
 
 < Yes, I am sure of that,' said Sabiah. You'll find such, 
 if anybody can ; but if there was one thing more than 
 another that I have prayed might come to pass, it was that I 
 might live to see you a happy wife. But, oh ! there's dis 
 appointments everywhere. When you were in New York I 
 used always to be afraid some scrapegrace would be hanging 
 round after your father's money. There was Mr. Dudley 
 to be sure, I always liked him, and thought something would 
 come of his following you up so sharp, but you couldn't seem 
 to agree about it between yourselves.' 
 
 Mabel smiled thoughtfully, as she remembered the indis 
 criminate zeal with which her aunt had always espoused 
 Dudley's interests. There was no other emotion awakened in 
 her heart, however, at the mention of Ids name. The events 
 connected with this early preference, viewed as they were 
 through the glass of a memory laden with anxieties and care, 
 seemed to be rather a part of her child-life, than a bitter and 
 realized fact in her womanhood. 
 
 ' And now, out, here,' continued Sabiah, 'well, they used 
 to say, when I was girl, if you are meant to be married, you 
 will be, and you may as well sit in the chimney-corner and 
 wait ; but, la, one might wait here to all eternity and never see 
 anybody that was iood enough for you. Ah, that's the rub, 
 after all, to find anybody that's good enough for you, Mabel !' 
 
 ' I never saw but one person that was good enough for her/ 
 said Alick, who had come in unperceived. 
 
 * And who was that pray ?' asked Sabiah. 
 Mr. Percival.' 
 
 * Well,' said Sabiah, * I know you boys think there never 
 was anything that could hold a candle to him. And he is a 
 handsome fellow, and very entertaining ; but he isn't thinking 
 about a wife. His head is full of politics. Besides, I always 
 have a dread of your political characters they make the 
 most miserable husbands.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 399 
 
 ' Aunt Mabel,' said Alick, whose thoughtful mind often 
 led him from the special topic of conversation into the wider 
 field of philosophy, t do you think a man is any more likely to 
 forget simple, every-day duties, because he is engaged in a 
 great work, and has a great object in view ?' 
 
 ' I think it depends altogether upon his motives, Alick,' 
 replied Mabel. * If he is influenced merely by selfishness 
 arid ambition, he would probably pursue his prize at the ex 
 pense of every other claim, whether small or great; but I do 
 not believe that a man who is actuated by pure Christian 
 benevolence is any less faithful to simple duties, because he is 
 also striving to benefit humanity in a larger sphere of useful 
 ness. You know, Alick, that the steam-hammer that rivets 
 and welds together great masses of solid iron, can also crack 
 a nutshell, without injuring the kernel by its delicate touch. 
 Do but strive for the right kind of power, and then never 
 fear, but that it can be applied to small things as well as 
 large.' 
 
 ' Nobody can doubt that Mr. Percival is disinterested,' said 
 Alick ; ' he proved it when he was not much older than I am. 
 Did you know, auntie, that he inherited a handsome property 
 from an uncle of his mother's when he was only eighteen 
 years old, and that, as soon as he became of age, he insisted 
 upon dividing it with his half-sister, a widow, who has several 
 children and is lame ? He took this Western property for his 
 share, at a very high valuation, and gave up all the rest, 
 except a portion which was secured to his mother for her life 
 time. General Percival objected very much to the arrange 
 ment, because he feared his brother would regret it when he 
 grew older. But so far from that, a few years ago, when the 
 General was ill, and on half-pay, Bayard assisted him very 
 much in the education of his family, and even had his daughter, 
 Bessie, thoroughly taught music.' 
 
 < Who told you this, Alick ? Not Mr. Percival ?' said 
 Mabel, at the same time pondering in her mind Dudley's 
 insinuations concerning the difficulty which had existed in the 
 family with regard to settling the estate. 
 
 c Oh, no ! Uncle Harry heard of it from a gentleman whose 
 father was one of the trustees of the property. But I know 
 that it cost Mr. Percival a sacrifice ; because I mentioned to 
 him the other morning that I had a great desire to go into one 
 of the territories and settle, when I got older, and. he re- 
 
400 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 marked, that when he was of my age he had a strong pre 
 ference for living in New York, but that he was very glad he 
 decided as he did.' 
 
 * Auntie,' said Murray, who had come in while Alick was 
 speaking, ' I wonder why grandfather cares so much about 
 making a great fortune. Uncle Harry says that Al and I 
 ought to be very thankful we have got our own living to earn, 
 for that money came very near being the ruin of him, and 
 that Mr. Percival, although he would have been a fine man 
 anywhere, would never have been the man he is if he had not 
 been obliged to exert himself.' 
 
 1 Wealth is a great power and, consequently, a great re 
 sponsibility,' said Mabel. ' I hope, if you ever possess it, you 
 will have first learned how to make it truly valuable.' 
 
 A conversation now ensued with reference to the boys' 
 future choice of professions, in which they might hope for use 
 fulness and success; a not unfrequent subject of discussion, but 
 which was, on this occasion, terminated by Mabel's remarking, 
 ' It is getting late, boys ; Aunt Sabiah looks tired, and we shall 
 have ample time to consider the comparative merits of the dif 
 ferent professions before either of you are obliged to come to 
 a decision. In the mean time, we will remember that the most 
 honourable calling for each of us, is that which we are best 
 capable of fulfilling. Murray, please ask Melissa for a light. 
 Shall we read now, Aunt Sabiah ?' and rising from her low 
 seat, Mabel took the Bible and Prayer-book from the table, 
 and when Murray came back with the lamp, read, according 
 to their evening custom, a portion of Scripture and a simple 
 prayer, such as she and the boys had become familiar with 
 from long use of their little service-book. Aunt Sabiah, who 
 had formerly held herself aloof from this act of social worship, 
 now joined in it with humble fervour ; while as the sound of 
 their united voices penetrated to the ears of one, who, through 
 the open door of the adjoining room, had overheard every 
 syllable that fell from their lips during the evening, another 
 aged heart was touched, and another voice responded in an 
 earnest A.men. 
 
 * Good night, my daughter,' said Mr. Vaughan, as Mabel 
 was leaving his room, after moving about with a light step to 
 see that everything was arranged for his comfort, shading the 
 lamp with her hand, lest its rays might wake the supposed 
 sleeper. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 401 
 
 ( Are you awake, father?' asked she, with some sur 
 prise. 
 
 * Yes, my child, wide awake ; more so than for many a long 
 year. My eyes are opened at last, Mabel, to the truths to 
 which they have long too long been closed; come and kiss 
 me before you go to bed.' And as she stooped over him to 
 fulfil the unusual request, he added, ' You are a good girl, my 
 dear a great blessing to your old father.' 
 
 The next evening, when one of the boys went to seek the 
 Bible in its customary place, it could not be found. Mabel 
 rose to assist in the search, and at length discovered it on the 
 little table beside her father's bed, with his spectacles between 
 its covers. Occasionally, afterwards, it was missing, and was 
 found in the same place ; and once Mabel observed the old 
 man attentively reading it. He laid it down, upon perceiving 
 her, however, and no remark was made on either side. 
 
 At length his strength, which was only restored by slow de 
 grees, became so far established that he was able to leave his 
 room, and once more take his place at the parlour fireside. 
 One day, when he had been thus seated for some hours, gazing 
 into the fire, communing with his own thoughts and ap 
 parently unconscious of everything around him, he suddenly 
 lifted his head and exclaimed to his daughter, who was the 
 only person present, ' Mabel, bring me my charts.' 
 
 With trembling reluctance she obeyed him ; though as she 
 placed the roll in his hand she still retained a slight hold upon 
 it, longing to intercede and beg him to refrain from harassing 
 his mind with the dreaded subject, but restrained by filial 
 deference from thus interfering. His manner, however, was 
 decisive, and she relinquished the papers, still maintaining her 
 place beside him, and awaiting his movements. To her asto 
 nishment, he deliberately unrolled the outside chart, and with 
 out hesitation tore it down the middle, and committed the 
 fragments to the flames ; then removing the next, he dealt 
 with it in like manner, and so on, successively, until the whole 
 were consumed. 
 
 Great as had been Mabel's horror of this deceitful schedule 
 of future fortune, she could not resist a sudden shudder and 
 sensation of alarm, as she thus witnessed the annihilation of 
 the time-worn papers, which she had learned to regard with a 
 species of awe. She was reassured, however, by the calm, 
 self-satisfied smile with which her father looked up at her, 
 
 2 D 
 
402 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 when the work of destruction was accomplished. More com 
 pletely still was she conscious of the sanity of his purpose, 
 when, laying his hand upon the Bible, which rested on the 
 table beside him, he said, solemnly, ' Henceforward, Mabel, 
 this is my only chart ; and the only road which shall engross 
 my thoughts, is that which leadeth to eternal rest. I have 
 striven too long after the things which perish, forgetful of 
 those which endure unto everlasting life. I have coveted for 
 my children the wealth which would have been to them but a 
 snare, while they, without my aid, have sought and found the 
 pearl of great price. Yes, Mabel, I have been strangely blind 
 to the welfare of my family ; but God has done for me and 
 mine more and better than I could ask or think.' 
 
 * We are very happy, father,' said Mabel, * far more so than 
 when the world envied our good fortune.' 
 
 i I see it, my child ; I understand it now/ said the old man, 
 with a serene smile. ( The Lord has dealt bountifully with 
 me ; He has given me the true riches, and made my children 
 a crown of glory to my aged head. Henceforth rny prayer 
 shall be, " Show me thy ways, Lord, teach me thy paths!" 
 
( 403 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly 
 
 What He hath given ; 
 They live on earth, in thought and deed, as truly 
 
 As in His Heaven. 
 
 J. G. WHITTIER. 
 
 As soon as Harry could be released from the cares attend 
 ing the harvesting 1 of his crops, he came again to his father's, 
 partly to share his sister's joy in the old gentleman's restoration 
 to health and peace of mind, and still more to persuade Mabel, 
 if possible, to return home with him. Both he and Helen had, 
 on their former visit, observed her unusual paleness, varied 
 only by a feverish flush which seemed to denote an exhausted 
 state of the system ; and they had only awaited Mr. Vaughan's 
 complete recovery, to insist upon her coming to them for re 
 creation and change of scene. 
 
 Mabel, who felt no other symptoms of illness than an un 
 usual lassitude and occasional headache, would have resisted 
 Harry's pleadings ; but her father, realizing how severely her 
 strength had recently been taxed, warmly seconded the pro 
 position, and even intimated the probability that, if they found 
 themselves equal to the jaunt, he and Sabiah would join her at 
 the farm, in the course of a few weeks. 
 
 It was pleasant to see the joyousness which mantled Harry's 
 face at. this voluntary suggestion on the part of Mr. Vaughan. 
 ' Come up early next month,' exclaimed he (it was now Octo 
 ber), ' and stay with us until after Thanksgiving ! All of you, 
 I mean,' added he, glancing at Sabiah, and from her to the 
 boys ; l that is a day which allows of no exceptions ; and Helen 
 and I shall be rejoiced to make it an occasion for welcoming 
 you all at once.' 
 
 ' We have everything to be thankful for, my son,' said Mr. 
 Vaughan, surveying the little group collected around him, with 
 
 2 D 2 
 
404 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 a pride far deeper than that of former days ; ' we will meet 
 together as you propose, and praise God in our hearts for his 
 wonderful goodness to us.' 
 
 It being thus arranged that the rest of the household were 
 to follow in a few weeks, Harry hurried Mabel with her pre 
 parations, and the next day she accompanied him to the abode 
 of plenty and contentment, where his happy young wife was 
 impatiently awaiting their arrival. 
 
 ' Now remember, Mabel,' said Helen, when the former was 
 at length installed in the room which Harry in building the 
 house had denominated Mabel's, * you are to do nothing while 
 you are here, but ride, and walk, and talk, and waste time, if 
 you choose to term it so, in every possible way. You have 
 had more than your share of cares and duties for the last five 
 years, and lately have been quite worn out with them ; so now 
 you are to consider that no one has the slightest claim upon 
 you. You are to keep your hands folded in this fashion' (and 
 she playfully placed them in a most indolent attitude), l and are 
 to make it the chief business of your life to be idle.' 
 
 Mabel declared, with a languid air, which was more felt 
 than feigned, that she should have no difficulty in obeying 
 these rules, for if the weather continued as at present, she 
 could spend whole days satisfactorily in gazing out of the 
 window. 
 
 This unusual lassitude, and low, feverish tendency, which 
 had been observed in her before she left home, became more 
 marked, now that she was freed from all necessity for exer 
 tion ; and Harry, no less than Helen, sought to dissipate the 
 effects of too much anxiety and confinement, by insisting that 
 she should spare herself all fatigue, arid keep as much as pos 
 sible in the open air. Thus, every day, upon some pretext or 
 other, her brother persuaded her to accompany him in his 
 drives about the farm, usually leaving her in some shaded spot, 
 while he went to oversee his labourers ; when she, partly oc 
 cupied with a book, and partly engaged in the observation of 
 nature, enjoyed the healthy recreation, and quiet sense of 
 repose, of which she stood greatly in need. 
 
 One morning, when they were returning from one of these 
 excursions, they perceived a neat little pleasure-carriage stand 
 ing before the door, which Harry recognised as belonging to 
 Percival ; and, at the same moment, Mabel saw through the 
 window the unmistakable form of his venerable mother who, 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 405 
 
 at the announcement of Mabel's approach, had risen from her 
 seat, and with a smiling countenance was awaiting the arrival 
 of her young friend. 
 
 The old lady's figure was firm arid erect as ever ; her eye 
 had lost nothing of its brightness ; and her countenance, though 
 more strongly marked with the lines of age, still wore its mild 
 and winning benignity of expression. Nor had time had 
 power to diminish the tender interest which she cherished for 
 Mabel, as was evident from the heartiness with which she 
 advanced to meet the eager and excited girl, and fold her in a 
 warm embrace, saying, ' Ah, my dear child, I see you then at 
 last. I began to think this was a pleasure which was to be 
 for ever denied me !'. 
 
 Mabel could not find words to express the joy she felt at the 
 unexpected meeting ; but Madam Percival, who read her 
 countenance aright, and saw that she was well nigh over 
 powered by the train of moving associations which it called 
 up, responded to her broken ejaculations of surprise and 
 delight, by pressing her once more to her side, saying, 
 'These reunions are blessed things, my dear! and here 
 is my patient Bessie, too, waiting to claim 4 you as an old 
 friend.' 
 
 Mabel, who had not had a thought for any one but Madam 
 Percival, now followed the direction of the old lady's eyes, 
 and her face lighted up with fresh satisfaction as she beheld 
 Bayard's favourite niece and her own devoted champion, 
 scarcely altered in appearance since she had seen her last, and 
 with her enthusiasm for Mabel undiminished, as was evident 
 from the beaming face with which she watched her move 
 ments, and now, as she saw herself recognised, came forward 
 with outstretched hand. 
 
 1 And do you know my sister ? have you made the acquaint 
 ance of Mrs. Vaughan?' asked Mabel, as, having exchanged 
 cordial salutations with Bessie, she glanced towards Helen, 
 who was a deeply interested and smiling spectator of the 
 scene. 
 
 ' Yes, my dear,' said Madam Percival, f I have been im 
 patient for some time past to make Mrs. Vaughan's acquaint 
 ance,, and must acknowledge that she was the sole object of 
 our visit to-day ; we had no idea of the double pleasure that 
 was in store for us.' 
 
 Numerous questions and responses now succeeded. Madam 
 
406 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 Percival had earnest inquiries to make concerning every 
 member of Mr. Vaughan's family, especially the boys, to an 
 account of whose growth and progress she was lending a most 
 attentive ear, while Helen and Bessie were busily chatting 
 together, when the entrance of Harry, who had been detained 
 by one of his neighbours, served to give a more general tone 
 to the conversation. 
 
 Madam Percival still kept Mabel close beside her, however, 
 and at length remarked, with some little anxiety in her tone, 
 4 They tell me, my dear, that you are riot well that you have 
 had too much care of late ; so, though [ should not judge it 
 from your face (Mabel's face was a little flushed by the excite 
 ment of the interview), I wish to make it a plea for begging 
 you away from Mrs. Vaughan for a few days ; that is if you 
 will trust yourself to an old friend's care, as readily as yon 
 once did when she was a stranger. Come,' added she, laying 
 her hand earnestly on Mabel's shoulder, by way of enforcing 
 the request * will you indulge me so far as to go home with 
 us to-day? we will restore you on Sunday when we meet 
 your brother at church.' 
 
 Mabel thanked her most warmly, professed unbounded con 
 fidence in that kindness and care of which she had formerly 
 experienced the benefit, but at the same time hesitated, and 
 gave a somewhat evasive reply to the invitation, saying that 
 she considered herself under Helen's orders, and doubted her 
 consent. 
 
 * Oh, please do as grandmamma proposes/ exclaimed Bessie, 
 while Madam Percival turned to Helen to urge her claims ; 
 6 we shall be so delighted to have you with us ! uncle Bayard 
 is absent attending court all the time, and we miss him so 
 much !' 
 
 Perhaps Bessie, who still cherished a painful recollection of 
 her uncle's severe and unjust criticism of Mabel, might have 
 suspected that he was an object of her avoidance and dislike, 
 and so artfully added this last clause by way of assuring 
 her that she would not be subjected to his society ; if so, her 
 suspicions were probably confirmed by the fact that when 
 Madam Percival triumphantly announced Helen's consent to 
 grant the required leave of absence, Mabel no longer mani 
 fested any want of alacrity in accepting the invitation, and 
 expressed without reserve the pleasure she should have in 
 accompanying them. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 407 
 
 ' But, there is a condition !' exclaimed Harry. < My dear 
 madam you will not overlook the proviso in the case. I have 
 already had your horses led to the stable, and Mrs. Vaughan 
 depends upon your company to dinner.' 
 
 ' I intended to return immediately,' said Madam Percival, 
 ' and left word to that effect at home ; but as Mrs. Vaughan 
 assures me that an early dinner is no inconvenience in her 
 household, and my young friend here may need a little time to 
 prepare for a three days' absence, I think, Bessie, we will 
 astonish Mrs. Patten by playing truant to-day/ 
 
 And the venerable lady, who knew how to accommodate 
 herself with ready grace to all circumstances in life, allowed 
 Mabel to assist in the removal of her bonnet and shawl, and 
 during the space of a couple of hours, which was the limit of 
 her visit, entered with cordial zeal into the interests of the 
 youthful group by whom she was surrounded, and by the 
 charm of her manners and conversation imparted both ease 
 and spirit to the social occasion, without once derogating in 
 the least from the dignity which became her years. 
 
 As dinner was served with great punctuality, and Madam 
 Percival was anxious to reach home before sundown, no further 
 delay was suffered to interfere with her departure, and at an 
 early hour in the afternoon the party set off; Mabel and the old 
 lady on the back seat of the light pleasure-carriage, and Bessie 
 stationed in front, beside a serious-looking youth who officiated 
 as coachman to the establishment. 
 
 It was one of those lovely days belonging to the somewhat 
 disputed period of the Indian summer, which, whether it occurs 
 earlier or later, is marked by characteristics peculiar to the 
 American autumn. The atmosphere was suffused with that 
 peculiar haziness which, without obscuring the sun, subdues 
 and mellows its rays, and imparts a singular brilliancy to the 
 rich and variegated foliage. The sky, unspotted by a cloud, 
 was of the clearest and brightest blue, while the outline of the 
 distant horizon was rendered shadowy and indistinct by the 
 light curtain of mist which enveloped all nature ; and as the 
 eye at intervals roamed across the boundless waves of the 
 rolling prairie, the great hay-ricks discerned through the 
 distance and fog might almost be mistaken for islands in mid 
 ocean or ships with outspread sails. For the last half of the 
 way, the road leading i to Lake Farm stretched through 
 Percival's own land, now winding like a thread amid corn and 
 
408 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 wheat fields of nearly a mile in extent, where the golden 
 grain was peeping from the husk and inviting the sickle of 
 the husbandman, and now leading the traveller beneath the 
 refreshing shade of grand primeval forests, which an English 
 nobleman might covet. Sometimes the sound of the horses' 
 feet would startle a squirrel or a rabbit, and send it darting- 
 across their path ; or a partridge would rise with a whirring 
 sound from the tall waving grain ; or, as the travellers entered 
 the cool thicket, birds of various note would greet them with 
 a concert of song. 
 
 Nor was this harmony of sight and sound marred by any 
 sense of effort or constraint on the part of Mabel and her com 
 panions, who discoursed with unaffected ease, or maintained, 
 at pleasure, that silence which is sometimes so satisfactory 
 among those who are confident of each other's sympathetic 
 enjoyment. As they drew within half a mile of their destina 
 tion, the road led through a little grove of maples and oaks, 
 gorgeous with brilliantly-dyed leaves, a portion of which had 
 already fallen and bestrewed the ground ; and, for the rest of 
 the distance, Mabel was conscious that they were gradually 
 ascending to a higher point of land. She was not prepared, 
 however, for the scene which awaited her, when at length, 
 emerging from the wood, she saw the house directly before 
 her, and took in at a glance the expansive view which the 
 little eminence commanded. The simple but tasteful structure 
 was built of the pale yellow stone peculiar to the region, 
 forming a soft and beautiful contrast to the heavy verdure of 
 a few old pines and hemlocks which stood in its immediate 
 vicinity. It was long and low, being only a story and a half 
 in height, but covering a wide extent of ground, having wings 
 on either side, and including: all the principal rooms on the 
 lower floor ; while across the front ran a light verandah, 
 festooned with the graceful American woodbine, now crimson 
 with the tints of autumn. As far as the eye could reach in 
 every direction, save one, it was met by an open expanse of 
 prairie, grain land, and forest, with here and there a little 
 collection of farm-houses and a village church ; but fair and 
 extensive as was this view of the rich and open country, the 
 involuntary exclamation of delight which burst from Mabel's 
 lips, as she looked forth upon the prospect, was chiefly 
 due to the emotion of joyful surprise with which she beheld, 
 stretching far out to the eastern horizon, dancing and 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 409 
 
 sparkling in the sunlight, the clear, blue waters of Lake 
 Michigan. 
 
 * It is beautiful !' said Madam Percival, in response to 
 Mabel's half-expressed ecstasy of pleasure ; while Bessie turned 
 her back upon the prospect to read its reflection in Mabel's 
 eyes. ' Familiar as I am with the scene/ continued the old 
 lady, ' I never drive np this slope without a fresh sense of the 
 greatness and beauty of that vast inland ocean, in which the 
 giant nature of the West mirrors its face ; and I am always 
 ready to congratulate my son anew on the patience with which 
 he occupied a most primitive dwelling, until he had acquired 
 the means to build a house to his own taste, and on the spot 
 of his choice. It looks uncommonly pleasant this afternoon. 
 Home is home, after a twenty miles' trip, especially when Mrs. 
 Patten stands at the door to give one welcome.' 
 
 The faithful serving-woman was already on the verandah to 
 meet her mistress, whose unusual excursion and lengthened 
 absence had occasioned her some anxiety. ' You will not 
 think I have been gone too long, Patten,' said Madam Perci 
 val, ' when you see whom I have brought back with me ;' 
 and, as Mabel leaned forward, bowed, and was recognised, the 
 good woman confirmed her mistress' remark, by holding up 
 both hands and exclaiming, ' Bless my eyes ! it's Miss Vaughan, 
 for all the world ; and the nicest young lady that ever I see, 
 asking your pardon, Miss Bessie,' she added in a low voice, 
 4 for you never was so tried, and there's no knowing what 
 folks is till they 're tried. And, how's them children, Miss ?' 
 she continued, when Mabel had alighted, and cordially shaken 
 her by the hand. < Almost men now, I dare say ?' 
 
 i Yes, almost, Mrs. Patten ; and I was afraid I had got 
 beyond your knowledge too.' 
 
 ' You ? dear me, no, you look just as much like a pictur 
 as ever, only a little pale like ; but I dare say you're tired, and 
 my mistress too, so do walk in walk in and get rested.' 
 And the good soul led the way to the sitting-room, where a fire 
 was already kindled, in anticipation of a cool evening. And 
 for one half hour she was unwearied in her efforts to render 
 them all, as she said, ' right comfortable.' 
 
 And right comfortable it seemed to Mabel, as the twilight 
 hours came on and found them grouped round the wide hearth ; 
 Madam Percival, as she sat upright in her easy-chair, relating 
 
410 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 to the girls on either side of her those most delightful of all 
 narratives, the experiences of bygone days ; while the flicker 
 ing flames cast a subdued, but cheerful light round the room, 
 and were reflected in the polished furniture and the old family 
 tea-urn under the antiquated sideboard. 
 
 The rough, new, and undeveloped character of almost every 
 thing pertaining to Western life furnishing a wide field for the 
 energy and activity both of body and mind, may nerve arid 
 strengthen the powers for the performance of many a trying 
 task ; but to one wearied from the overtasking of these powers, 
 and yearning for the rest which even the youthful spirit occa 
 sionally craves, there is something unspeakably refreshing in 
 such ancient and time-honoured tokens as everywhere per 
 vaded the establishment over which Madam Percival presided 
 with that venerable dignity characteristic of the past. To 
 Mabel especially, who had been taxed with a responsibility 
 disproportioned to her years, and had wellnigh sunk beneath 
 the burden of recent labours, there was sweet and welcome repose 
 in being thus sheltered under the wing of her aged friend's 
 tender and protecting care; and even the heavily-carved chairs 
 and tables, the Turkey carpet, the antique fire-set, and the 
 quaint, old family plate, which were here preserved as ances 
 tral heirlooms, all bore their part in giving to the place the 
 secluded and familiar air of a cherished home. Thus, the 
 first evening of her visit proved one of unmixed satisfaction, 
 and the night that followed, brought with it sweet and dream 
 less rest. 
 
 ' Do you feel equal to a short walk, my dear?' said Madam 
 Percival, as she joined her young friends on the verandah the 
 next morning, and addressed herself to Mabel, who, under 
 Bessie's instruction, was becoming acquainted with every 
 feature in the wide landscape. 
 
 Mabel promptly replied in the affirmative. 
 
 * Then,' said Madam Percival, ' I should be happy to have 
 you both go with me to the house of my son's agent. It is 
 only about half a mile distant ; you can see the smoke from 
 the chimney yonder; the path leads directly through the 
 maple-grove, which will furnish us with a gay carpet and 
 awning, and the good man's wife will give us all a hearty 
 welcome, I am sure.' 
 
 Bessie, no less than Mabel, expressed her pleasure at the 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 411 
 
 proposition, and, while the latter went to her room to prepare 
 for the walk, the former ran for her own and her grand 
 mother's bonnets. 
 
 ' Now, my dear/ said Madam Percival, as she took Mabel's 
 offered arm, bearing no weight upon it, however, for she was 
 at present the stronger of the two, ' I must tell you some 
 thing of the individual whom we hope to see this morning.' 
 She then proceeded with an interesting narrative of their trusty 
 farm-agent's experiences, dated from the young man's arrival 
 in the West, and continued up to the present period. He had 
 brought a small sum of money with him, but his first invest 
 ment had been disastrous, the situation of his land proving 
 unhealthy, and his crops suffering from blight ; while, to crown 
 his misfortunes, the title to his estate became a matter of dis 
 pute, and he suddenly found himself involved in legal diffi 
 culties. It was at this crisis, that he was first brought to the 
 notice of Mr. Percival, to whom he applied for professional 
 assistance ; and Bayard's favourable impressions of the man 
 being confirmed by a slight knowledge which his mother had 
 previously gained of his character and worth, a proposition 
 was made and accepted, which proved equally advantageous 
 to both parties ; the young lawyer, who was now oppressed 
 with business, gaining a valuable and reliable agent, and the 
 disappointed, but manly and energetic farmer, obtaining a 
 sure and gradually-increasing competence.' 
 ' And how ended the lawsuit?' asked Mabel. 
 ' It resulted in favour of my son's client,' replied 
 Madam Percival, ' and he still holds possession of his estate, 
 which, in spite of its disadvantages, has nearly doubled in 
 value.' 
 
 ' And this is the farm-house !' said Mabel, as they now 
 came in sight of a comfortable two-story dwelling, surrounded 
 by spacious and substantial barns and granaries. ' How neat 
 and thrifty everything looks !' 
 
 ' That is due in no small degree to our farmer's wife/ said 
 Madam Percival; 'she is one of the most good-humoured, 
 capable, and industrious women in the neighbourhood, and 
 very attractive too, as you will think when you see her pretty, 
 round face. That row of glittering pans and, pails hanging 
 outside the house will give you an idea of the extent of her 
 dairy, and it was some of her sweet butter which you praised 
 at breakfast. We may go in without knocking,' she con- 
 
412 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 tinued, as they approached, 'our good housewife is always 
 ready for company/ 
 
 Thus invited, Mabel entered at the door which stood hos 
 pitably open, and passed on to a sitting-room on the right. 
 It was furnished in the simple style of a farmer's family ; was 
 in perfect order, and unoccupied ; there seemed nothing to 
 startle and astonish a visitor, and yet Mabel stopped short, 
 and stood gazing at the opposite window, like one lost in a 
 dream. What was there in a little rush-bottomed arm-chair, 
 a wooden footstool, an old leather-covered Bible, and an open 
 daguerreotype case, which could have power to transfix her 
 in silent wonder, and send the tears coursing down her cheek ? 
 what but the power of association, that deep, magnetic 
 thrill with which we gaze on the simplest memorials of one 
 who has passed from earth, but still lives enshrined amid love's 
 sacred memories? what but the holy awe which fills the soul 
 as imagination calls up, in vivid array, the form, the counte 
 nance, the voice, of one whose mortal has put on immortality ? 
 
 Yes, there was no mistaking these mute witnesses, which 
 had seemed a part of Rosy's little life ; and for an instant 
 Mabel stood transfixed opposite the vacant arm-chair, tearful, 
 bewildered, and unconscious of the surprise she herself excited 
 in Madam Percival and Bessie by her singular demeanour. 
 The next moment, a door opened from the kitchen, and an 
 elderly woman, with an infant in her arms, entered, and was 
 advancing with a respectful air to speak to Madam Percival, 
 but, seeing Mabel, she stopped short, uttered an exclamation 
 of joy, and forgetting her customary awe of her more stately 
 visitor, forgetting everything but the engrossing interest of 
 the moment, she placed the child, without apology, in Bessie's 
 arms, and exclaiming, in a broken voice, ' Dear Miss Mabel ! 
 my own darling child's best friend !' she ran towards the 
 latter, threw her arms impulsively around her, then sat down 
 in Rosy's chair, covered her face with her hands, and wept. 
 
 Mabel, who at the sound of her voice had recognised the 
 mother of Rose, and had cordially returned her greeting, now 
 turned to Madam Percival to ask an explanation from one 
 who, on her part, wore a countenance full of astonishment and 
 inquiry, when Lydia, who had been summoned by a loud cry 
 from the baby, made her appearance on the scene, smoothing 
 down her apron, and buttoning the sleeves which had been 
 turned up to her elbows. If Madam Percival and Bessie 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 413 
 
 were already astonished spectators, it may well be believed 
 that their amazement now reached its height, as Lydia, the 
 same excitable creature as ever, gave a sudden start, threw 
 herself on her knees beside Mabel, caught her hand, kissed it 
 repeatedly, laughed, cried, then laughed again, and, snatching 
 her infant from Bessie, placed it in Mabel's arms, saying, 
 * See my baby ! isn't she a beauty ?' and finally burst into 
 tears once more, as she whispered, ' Her name is Rose.' 
 
 ' Excuse us, ma'am ! excuse us, Miss Bessie !' said she, 
 as, with an attempt to recover her self-possession, she came 
 forward to pay her respects to Madam Percival arid her grand 
 daughter, ' but Miss Yaughan has been such an angel of good 
 ness to us, and our dear little Rose loved her so much.' 
 
 The excuse was not needed, however, as was evident from 
 the cordial sympathy which shone in Madam Percival's face, 
 as she gleaned from the mutual expressions of interest which 
 were exchanged between Mabel and these humble friends, the 
 nature of the tie which bound them so strongly to one another ; 
 and the good-hearted Bessie had only waited to be relieved 
 from the care of the child, to turn her face towards the window 
 and wipe away a tear. 
 
 4 1 have been telling you, my dear, as we came through the 
 wood/ said Madam Percival to Mabel, who was caressing the 
 infant, ' the experience of a mutual friend of ours, but I little 
 suspected that I was omitting the most interesting feature of 
 the tale ; here he is, however, to speak for himself. Good 
 morning, Mr. Dowst ! You are the only person wanting to 
 make this scene complete.' 
 
 The astonishment of Mabel, the blushing bashfulness of 
 Lydia, the contented smile of her mother, the crowing ap 
 plause on the part of the baby, and the sympathetic satisfaction 
 of Madam Percival and Bessie, indeed reached their climax, 
 as the sturdy form of the honest Owen now appeared in the 
 doorway, his eyes bright with pleasure, and his face glowing 
 with earnestness. ' Miss Vaughan !' exclaimed he, taking off 
 his hat, and coming forward with both his strong, hard hands 
 extended, ' this is a day to be thankful for, and a sight to make 
 a humble man proud.' 
 
 ' You speak the truth, Mr. Dowst,' said Mabel. ' Such a 
 home, and wife, and child, and good name, as you can call 
 yours, are indeed something to be proud of; and I am proud, 
 1 assure you, to claim you as an old friend.' 
 
414 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 * Ah, Miss/ said Owen, with his own genial smile, ' I've 
 many blessings, as you say, but it's the crowning one of all 
 that brings you under our roof. Where is my little woman ?' 
 continued he, searching round the room with his eyes for 
 Lydia, who stood behind him with a modest, blushing face. 
 ' She's been looking forward to this day ever since she first 
 set foot on a prairie, though one would think, to see her now, 
 that she was ashamed of being an honest man's wife.' 
 
 * She is ashamed of having kept her secret from me so long,' 
 said Mabel. * What will the boys say when they learn that 
 Lydia is Mrs. Owen Dowst ?' " 
 
 ' Well, 'twas all along of her love for you, Miss Mabel,' 
 said Owen, apologetically. ( " Owen," says she, " don't you 
 hint to Mr. Harry Vaughan, or any of 'em, who you've got 
 for a wife -just wait till Miss Mabel comes into these parts, 
 and sees for herself." ' 
 
 ' A true woman,' interposed Madam Percival. * I can 
 understand it, Mrs. Dowst, for, old as I am, I have been count 
 ing ever since Miss Vaughan arrived on her surprise at finding 
 your husband settled among us, little suspecting that there was 
 a still greater pleasure in store for her.' 
 
 ' And how is Jack ?' asked Mabel, when, composure being 
 at length restored, she found herself seated next to Mrs. Hope, 
 who had by this time claimed her sacred prerogative the 
 charge of Rosy's namesake. 
 
 1 Bless your heart, dear, for remembering my boy !' said the 
 mother, with animation. ' Lyddy is a good child, and never 
 shows any of her little tempers now-a-days, and Owen has been 
 a faithful 'friend to me and mine, first for Rosy's sake, and 
 then for the love that grew out of that ; but I sometimes 
 think it's Jack, after all, that's to be the joy of my old age. 
 There never was a mother had a better, son, Miss Mabel. 
 He's foreman of some works not far from here, where they 
 manufacture farming machines ; he always was an ingenious 
 fellow, and what with Rosy helping him with his plans and 
 figures, and so on, he got an extra good idea of mechanics, 
 and now it stands him in good stead. He makes a handsome 
 living Jack does and is frugal, too, though he's got an 
 open hand and heart/ 
 
 ' Oh, I am very glad !' said Mabel. ' I always liked Jack ; 
 I thought he would live to be a comfort to you, Mrs. Hope.' 
 
 1 How could he help it ?' asked the widow, in a low, earnest 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 415 
 
 voice. 'As long as Rosy lived, didn't he have his sister to 
 keep him in the right way ? and ever since she died, hasn't he 
 had an angel ? Jack was a silent boy, always ; and he's a 
 silent sort of a man. He don't tell his mind as some folk 
 do ; but if you could see him when he sits down in her chair, 
 or reads in her Eible, or calls this baby by her name, you'd 
 think as I do, that though it's a voice for the heart only, Rosy, 
 like the holy man in Scripture, " being dead, yet speaketh." ' 
 
 ' She does indeed speak to us all,' said Mabel. ' Though 
 her life was short and full of suffering, it is a beautiful thought 
 how many have been made better for the dear child's having 
 lived, and loved, and died. I, as well as Jack, have often felt, 
 Mrs. Hope, that the memory of Rose's virtues was like a con 
 tinual message of good cheer from a glorified saint.' 
 
 ' She was a precious lamb !' said the mother, sobbing. * The 
 Lord has her in His holy keeping. I only hope we'll all find 
 our way one of these days into that same fold/ 
 
 ' Such heartfelt gratitude and affection as have been mani 
 fested towards you to-day, my dear,' said Madam Percival to 
 Mabel, when they were once more returning homeward 
 through the grove, ' are a sweet compensation for the hours 
 stolen from gayer pleasures and devoted to works of charity 
 and love.' 
 
 ' The sincere regard of these good friends is of priceless 
 value to me,' answered Mabel ; ' but it is a voluntary offering, 
 not a compensation. The hours were few indeed, which, 
 during my IMew York life, were devoted to anything but 
 selfish pleasures. This family is the only one to whom 1 ren 
 dered the slightest service, and in this instance I was always the 
 principal gainer. I can feel nothing but mortification when I 
 reflect how wholly I neglected my opportunities of usefulness.' 
 
 ' You do yourself an injustice,' said Madam Percival. ' I 
 have not yet to learn the particulars of your kindness to Mrs. 
 Hope and her sick child. They have been related to me with 
 all a mother's enthusiasm, though I never until now knew the 
 name of Rosy's benefactor. I was peculiarly interested in the 
 account, for I, too, had some tender recollections of Rose, 
 having seen her frequently, when many years ago she was 
 under medical treatment at a public institution in New York ; 
 and I could in some degree estimate the love she cherished for 
 you, my dear, when I learned that she bequeathed you, as a 
 dying legacy, a little engraving, originally presented to her by 
 
416 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 my son, and always prized (so her mother tells me) as zealously 
 as when her intense admiration for it first appealed to Bayard's 
 generosity. Have you the picture yet ?' 
 
 * I have,* said Mabel. ' It hangs in our parlour at home ;' 
 and as she spoke she called to mind the interest, even amount 
 ing to curiosity, with which Percival, on his recent visit, had 
 appeared to examine both engraving and frame, no doubt 
 identifying them as having once been his property. 
 
 1 Its subject is one,' said Madam Percival, ' which appealed 
 strongly to the child's heart, and which she fully exemplified 
 in her life. She has long since gained the rest of the Eternal 
 City ; but her works yet follow her, and the road which her 
 feet have trodden is fragrant with her virtues, encouraging the 
 succession of pilgrims who follow in her pathway, to exclaim, 
 with consecrated purpose and will, " In the name of our God, 
 will we set up our banners !" ' 
 
( 417 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Their home is home ; their chosen lot 
 
 A private place and private name, 
 But, if the world's want calls, they'll not 
 
 Refuse the indignities of fame. 
 
 THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 THE Sabbath which was to terminate Mabel's visit at Lake 
 Farm dawned clear and beautiful. Since the day succeeding 
 her arrival the weather had been cold and cloudy, and the 
 pleasures of the household had beep mostly of an indoor cha 
 racter. Once more, however, that soft, fragrant breath which 
 seems to linger lovingly in the recesses of nature, had asserted 
 its power over the early frosts ; and the cloudless sky, the deep- 
 blue lake, and the gorgeously-tinted forests were radiant with 
 the last smile of summer. It still wanted a few moments to 
 the breakfast hour, and Mabel, with the bed-room window 
 thrown open, stood enjoying the beauty of the landscape, and 
 refreshing her spirit with the meditations to which it gave rise, 
 when a few soft, long-drawn notes of music fell upon her ear, 
 so harmonious and so perfectly in unison with the scene arid 
 the hour, that they might almost be mistaken for the sighing 
 of the breeze through the old hemlock in front of her window. 
 Even when gradually swelling in sound and volume they filled 
 the air with sacred melody, there was something so soothing, 
 so grand, and so inspiring in the strain, that she scarcely cared 
 to question herself concerning its source, but stood enraptured 
 and engrossed, all other senses absorbed in that of hearing. It 
 was evidently the music of an organ, played with no ordinary 
 power and skill : Mabel had observed such an instrument in 
 the library. Although Bessie had assured her that she could 
 play only simple airs upon it, and the tribute of praise which 
 now rang through the house was a difficult and sublime com- 
 
 2 E 
 
418 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 position "of one of the old masters, she forgot the seeming 
 inconsistency, and, until the piece was finished, and the glorious 
 symphony died away into silence, she indulged no thought save 
 the soaring aspirations to which it could not fail to give rise. 
 As the continued and almost oppressive stillness which suc 
 ceeded at length convinced her, however, that there was to be 
 no repetition of the harmony, she started from her attitude of 
 fixed attention, actuated by the sudden thought, ' Could Bessie 
 have deceived both herself and me in respect to her powers, 
 or is she the subject of a sudden inspiration ?' And hastily 
 throwing a mantle over her head, she stepped from her low 
 window upon the wide verandah, and proceeded around the 
 front of the house in the direction of the library, smiling to 
 herself and saying, ' She will be self-convicted, when I detect 
 her with her fingers on the keys !' 
 
 The library, which was also the usual breakfast-room of the 
 family, was situated in one of the wings at the extremity of 
 the building; arid it being Mabel's purpose to surprise her 
 friend by unexpectedly making her appearance at the window, 
 she was stealing softly round an angle of the verandah, when 
 she suddenly stopped short, and blushed with embarrassment 
 as she encountered, face to face, the true author of the music, 
 the young master of the house, who, having in a characteristic 
 manner given notice of his return home, had sallied forth upon 
 the piazza to enjoy the beauty of the morning. 
 
 Their meeting upon the lonely prairie a few weeks before 
 was scarcely more unexpected to either party ; but, as the 
 good sense of Mabel and the active benevolence of Percival 
 had dispelled the awkwardness on that occasion, so, now, the 
 simple candour of the one, and the utter freedom from self- 
 consciousness on the part of the other, quickly restored their 
 mutual equanimity, which had for a moment been disturbed. 
 
 6 1 was hastening to thank Bessie for my share of enjoyment 
 in that beautiful symphony,' said Mabel, after exchanging a 
 cordial greeting with Percival, who could not, if he would, have 
 disguised his pleasure at meeting her. ' If I had not believed 
 you to be nearly a dozen miles away, I should have known, 
 without a doubt, to whom we were indebted for the music.' 
 
 6 1 did not get released from my duties until a very late 
 hour last evening,' said Percival : ' but I then felt an irresist 
 ible attraction towards home, which I cannot now consider 
 anything less than a presentiment.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 41 9 
 
 1 Have you been well since I saw you last?' added he, 
 glancing inquiringly at her face, which, the glow of sudden 
 surprise having subsided, certainly presented a marked contrast 
 to the hue of health which it had worn on the day of their 
 prairie excursion. 
 
 ' Not quite,' replied she, smiling ; ' but I don't like to think 
 about it, I am so little accustomed to play the part of an 
 invalid.' 
 
 ' I fear it is too cold for you on this side of the house,' said 
 Bayard, who observed that the breeze had blown the scarf 
 from her head and left it unprotected; and, with a respectful 
 gallantry most becoming to a man of his commanding presence, 
 he offered his arm, to accompany her to that part of the veran 
 dah which was warmed by the morning sun. As she had no- 
 longer any object in proceeding to the library, she accepted 
 the proposition and the offered arm, and, Madam Percival not 
 having left her room, and there being as yet no summons to 
 breakfast, they continued to walk slowly up and down for a 
 few minutes, while Bayard inquired with interest concerning 
 the various members of Mr. Vaughan's family, and expressed 
 his sincere regret at the old gentleman's illness, which he 
 rightly conjectured to be in no slight degree connected with 
 the evident change in Mabel. 
 
 ' Upon my word !' exclaimed the lively Bessie, whom they 
 had already passed once or twice without observing, as she 
 stood in the doorway, but who now interrupted both their pro 
 gress and their conversation by her raillery, ' You seem to be 
 a man of parts, Uncle Bayard ; you enter the house like a 
 midnight robber, rouse us out of our beds at daylight with an 
 extravaganza furiosa, and now, lo and behold ! I find you pre 
 scribing a new regimen to our invalid, whom grandmamma 
 does not allow to take the air before breakfast.' 
 
 ' Indeed !' said Bayard, appearing to notice the last clause 
 only in Bessie's threefold reproof, ' Then I should have invited 
 you into the library, where we have a bright fire.' 
 
 1 By no means,' said Mabel, smiling, but at the same time 
 withdrawing her hand from his arm and stepping inside the 
 doorway. * No one could suffer from breathing such an 
 atmosphere as this ; Bessie is a would-be tyrant, that is all.' 
 
 ' She is a little scold,' said Bayard, at the same time sealing 
 with a kiss the lips which were preparing to utter a further 
 torrent of abuse. * I never anticipate any more flattering 
 
 2 E 2 
 
420 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 greeting from her than that I have just received. For whom 
 do you reserve all your fine speeches, Bessie ?' 
 
 'For people whom it is no flattery to praise,' said she, 
 breaking away from him, and putting her arm within that of 
 Mabel, in a defiant manner, which seemed to imply that they 
 two constituted a coalition against him ; i Miss Vaughan 
 never heard me say anything but good of her.' 
 
 The words might have escaped Bessie accidentally ; but 
 Bayard evidently felt them, for he bit his lip and seemed 
 slightly confused by the reminiscence which they awakened, 
 while Mabel lifted her eyes for an instant to his face, and 
 then turning away made some abrupt remark upon the extent 
 of the prospect. 
 
 It was a relief as well as a satisfaction, therefore, to at 
 least two of the party, when, a moment after, a slow, mea 
 sured, but touchingly tender voice was heard to say, ' Good 
 morning, my son !' and, at the same time, a soft and still 
 beautifully-formed hand was laid upon the broad white 
 forehead of Percival, who recognizing his mother's accent and 
 touch, turned quickly, and with a glad countenance to receive 
 her welcome. 
 
 It was a striking picture whicli was thus presented by the 
 stately matron, and her tall, manly, Saxon-featured son, whose 
 manner towards her was a beautiful mingling of respect, con 
 fidence, and almost boyish affection. Mabel had seen them 
 both in many and varied relations ; but never had either more 
 fully commanded her admiration and interest, than at this 
 moment, when the young man stood encircling his mother's 
 waist with his strong arm, while she looked fondly up into his 
 clear blue eye, in which she seemed to read the fulfilment of 
 all a parent's hopes. 
 
 * You must have travelled late, Bayard,' said she. ' I sat 
 at my bed-room window watching for you until twelve o'clock, 
 which was more than an hour after the rest of the family 
 retired.' 
 
 * I did not leave the town until midnight,' replied Bayard, 
 4 and it was between two and three when I arrived here ; 
 but I am astonished at your expecting me ; I sent you no 
 message.' 
 
 ( True ; but I knew you could not resist having a peep at 
 your garden while this fine weather lasted, to say nothing of 
 the other attractions of home. Besides, as we wish, we are 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 421 
 
 apt to believe ; and I felt sure you would be disappointed if 
 you wholly missed the pleasure of our young- friend's visit,' 
 and she laid her hand expressively on Mabel's shoulder. 
 4 You had but a cheerless arrival last night,' continued she, 
 addressing Bayard ; ' I hope you wakened Mrs. Patten, and 
 were made comfortable.' 
 
 i My only endeavour was not to disturb any one,' said Bay 
 ard. l The long window in the library was unfastened, and I 
 found matches and candles in my room. I wanted nothing 
 more.' 
 
 ' Always thoughtful, my son !' said his mother, with a 
 smile of approval; 'come, shall we go to breakfast?' And 
 taking Mabel's hand in hers, she accompanied her across the 
 hall, making amends for having in the parent half-forgotten 
 the hostess, by the affectionate solicitude with which she now 
 questioned her concerning her health. 
 
 i Uncle Bayard,' whispered Bessie, as she followed with her 
 uncle, * I thought there was a certain style of beauty which 
 you only admired at a safe distance. I am afraid you have 
 had a chill this morning/ 
 
 * Hush, hush, Bessie,' said Bayard ; * I humbly crave a 
 truce. Your memory is as provoking as your tongue.' 
 
 As there is nothing which leaves such a void in the family 
 circle as the departure of its head, so there is no transforma 
 tion so effectual and complete as that which is created by his 
 sudden and unexpected return. Especially is this the case 
 when he comes as Bayard did, in all that joyousness of spirit 
 which marks a true love of home, and brings with him, for 
 its entertainment and benefit, the choicest and best of all the 
 influences and experiences which have attended him in his 
 absence. Thus, every member of the household at Lake Farm, 
 felt a conscious exhilaration of spirits in the mere presence of 
 its young master. Even the servants seemed inspired with 
 fresh energy for the performance of every duty ; and the old 
 family cat, who was exclusive in her preferences, deliberately 
 forsook her place on the hearth-rug, and ensconced herself 
 under his chair. Add to this the ready zeal with which he 
 took upon himself every office, both small and great, which 
 affection or hospitality demanded, and no one could be 
 insensible to the fact that a wide sphere of action abroad does 
 not necessarily unfit a man for the amenities of domestic life. 
 
 Towards Mabel, his manner was at once marked bv sincere 
 
422 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 respect and cordial friendliness; nor although conscious that 
 Bessie was watching him with an eye full of mischief, did he 
 fail in any of those thoughtful attentions which become a gen 
 tleman and a host ; for, however he might feel annoyed by his 
 niece's raillery, he was not one to be deterred by self-conscious 
 shyness or awkward embarrassment from that chivalrous devo 
 tion to which Mabel was entitled as his mother's guest, inde 
 pendently of her personal claims as a young and beautiful 
 woman. 
 
 ' This is what my mother terms my garden, Miss Vaughan,' 
 said he, as, breakfast being ended, he rose and walked to the 
 window, where, with folded arms, he stood looking out for a 
 few moments on the almost interminable corn-fields which lay 
 stretched before him, with all their golden treasures bursting 
 from the stalk or waving heavily in the breeze. 
 
 ' A noble field of labour,' said Mabel, who sat where she 
 too could command the prospect. ' I confess I am almost 
 awed by the extent of your harvest and its promised rewards.' 
 
 i And yet, my dear/ said Madam Percival, ' if you did but 
 realize it, you have been labouring for the last six years in a 
 far wider field, and a richer soil, where, if my son. is not mis 
 taken, the fruit is already ripe unto the harvest : I mean the 
 hearts and minds of those two boys of yours,' added she, ob 
 serving Mabel's puzzled and inquiring look. ' Bayard tells me 
 that he has never seen lads more full of early promise.' 
 
 Mabel coloured with mingled modesty and pride at this 
 praise of her own faithfulness and its results : and Bayard, 
 turning round, hastened to confirm his mother's remark, congra 
 tulating her on the hopes which might reasonably be indulged 
 in reference to her nephews, with whom he had evidently been 
 most favourably impressed. 
 
 ' Bayard's animated description of our young friends,' said 
 Madam Percival, * interested and gratified me beyond mea 
 sure. It is evident, my dear, that the lads still exhibit the same 
 marked individuality of character which distinguished them as 
 children ; but that, while the good in each has continued to gain 
 strength, both have overcome the evil tendencies which were 
 so apparent six years ago as to make me tremble for them and 
 for you. As I look back to the day when we sat on the rocks 
 at Niagara, and contemplated the solemn nature of your re 
 sponsibility, I am disposed to feel no slight triumph in your 
 success.' 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 423 
 
 f If you have succeeded in the management of such rude 
 creatures as boys are, Miss Vaughan,' said Bessie, ' I think 
 you ought to write out a theory of education, for the benefit of 
 society.' 
 
 ' I !' said Mabel, with simplicity ; * indeed I have had no 
 rules, no theory ; I sometimes think that the boys have taught 
 me far more than I have them.' 
 
 ' Her theory may be laid down in one word,' said Madam 
 Percival ' she lias loved her little nephews : love is an inspired 
 teacher, Bessie, and one that may be trusted in every emer 
 gency. It has been Miss Vaughan's counsellor from the be 
 ginning. I am quite impatient,' said she, turning to Mabel, l for 
 the day when you shall introduce these young gentlemen to 
 me once more. But, my dear girls,' she continued, glancing at 
 her watch, ' if we are going to church this morning, it is time 
 we were making our preparations. Bayard, have you given 
 any directions about the horses ?' 
 
 Bayard started, apologised for his forgetfulness, for he had 
 been for the last few moments apparently lost in thought, and 
 hastily left the room. His mother proceeded to express her 
 regret at the prospect of so soon parting with Mabel, and at 
 the same time suggested the possibility of obtaining a longer 
 leave of absence from Helen ; but Mabel gratefully, though 
 firmly, declined prolonging her visit, at the same time express 
 ing the pleasure it had afforded her, and the three ladies then 
 separated until it should be time to leave for church. 
 
 1 Does not Miss Vaughan intend to return with us, Bessie ?* 
 asked Bayard, in a low tone, as he saw Mabel's small travelling 
 box brought from her room to be placed in the carriage. 
 
 ( No, of course not,' answered Bessie, feigning great asto 
 nishment at the inquiry ;' she would not have conue at all, if I 
 had not taken care to let her know that you were not at home/ 
 
 Though uttered in a mocking tone, this reply effectually 
 disconcerted Bayard; the expostulations which had risen to 
 his lips, at the signs of their guest's departure, were instan 
 taneously checked ; he stood by in constrained silence, while 
 iiis mother made one more attempt to change Mabel's 
 resolution, and even assisted in the convenient arranging of 
 iier luggage without expressing a syllable of surprise or regret. 
 This conduct was so foreign to his usual hospitality, that his 
 mother could not fail to observe it, and Bessie, whose heart 
 was as tender as her tongue was tantalizing:, felt a pang of 
 
424 MABEL VAUGIIAN. 
 
 self-reproach, as she observed how completely her revengeful 
 shaft had struck home. 
 
 This constraint was but momentary, however, and the drive 
 which succeeded was one of exquisite pleasure to all parties ; 
 the softness of the air and the quiet beauty of the scene serv 
 ing to compose their minds to that calm, religious meditation, 
 which was suited to the occasion and the hour ; while for con 
 versation, Madam Percival, who occupied the back seat with 
 Mabel, gave her an account of the growth and prospects of the 
 little church, which was situated midway between Bayard's 
 estate and that of her brother. 
 
 Helen and Harry had arrived in advance, and were on the 
 steps to welcome them and to reclaim Mabel, whom Harry 
 declared that it was no slight generosity in them to have relin 
 quished for so long a period. As the church was situated at 
 the junction of four different roads, in a part of the country 
 where the farms were large and the population scattered, there 
 was but one service during the day, and that proportionately 
 prolonged. The simplicity with which it was conducted, how 
 ever, the earnestness of the preacher and the attention of the 
 audience, made the occasion both profitable and interesting 1 , and 
 effectually beguiled Mabel of all sense of weariness. Within 
 sight of her, in a neighbouring pew, were her humble friends, 
 the Hopes, clothed in their Sunday attire, and decked in the 
 smiles which bespeak cheerfulness and content. Pre-eminent 
 among them was Jack, now Mr. John Hope, one of the pillars 
 of the church and the township ; his tall figure, modified 
 features, and shining suit of broadcloth, rendering it difficult to 
 identify him with the shabby urchin of former days. Madam 
 Percival's pew was a little in the rear of Harry's, and Mabel, 
 who had followed her brother and Helen into church while the 
 old lady and Bessie were still lingering in the porch, had for a 
 time lost sight of her friends. Their vicinity was soon made 
 evident, however, when the congregation joined in the opening 
 hymn ; for never had the rich voice of Bayard, which had 
 power to enchain select audiences, and make the wild prairie 
 ring with its full, clear song, sounded so melodious in Mabel's 
 ear as now, that it was consecrated to a sacred service and led 
 the voices of the multitude in a united chorus of praise. 
 
 The numerous vehicles which surrounded the church during 
 the service, had at its conclusion nearly all driven off, crowded 
 with occupants, while our little group of friends still loitered to 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 425 
 
 bid one another farewell, and petition for a future^interchange 
 of visits. Mabel's box had been transferred to Harry's rocka- 
 way, which, together with Mr. Percival's carriage, stood before 
 the door, and the horses being restless, the ladies made haste to 
 exchange their last words. 
 
 4 Bessie forewarned me, Miss Vaughan,' said Pereival, while 
 handing Mabel down the steps, ' that it was hopeless tourpre a 
 continuance of your visit to my mother ; but as Harry and Mrs. 
 Vaughan gave me the freedom of their house, I hope I may soon 
 have the pleasure of seeing you again, in my character of a 
 friend and neighbour/ 
 
 Mabel frankly replied, that nothing would give her greater 
 pleasure. Harry, who overheard the remark, endorsed it by 
 grasping Bayard's hand, and exclaiming with generous warm 
 heartedness, ' Let us see you as often as possible, my dear 
 fellow I have no patience with that law term which has en 
 grossed so much of your time of late ;' and Helen's sweet smile 
 was premonitory of future welcomes on the part of one 
 who had none of the jealousy of her husband's friends which 
 is some times attributed to young wives. A moment more 
 and both carriages were off on different roads, which 
 stretched across a plain so level and so uninterrupted that at 
 the distance of nearly two miles Mabel could clearly dis 
 tinguish a handkerchief which Bessie was waving in her hand 
 as a farewell signal. 
 
 But Mabel had yet to learn what it was to be a friend and 
 neighbour in the sense in which Bayard understood those terms. 
 Though for six years a resident of the West, which is truly a 
 country of gigantic distances, she had never believed it possible 
 that ten miles of space could be so practically annihilated, as 
 Avas instanced during the few following weeks, when, if Bayard's 
 and Harry's estates had been but a stone's throw apart, they 
 could not have been more strictly pronounced within the limits 
 of good neighbourhood. It was not that Bayard's promised 
 visits were regular or prolonged, or that the attractions of the 
 house were suffered to interfere with the young man's ordinary 
 occupations. On the contrary, his landed estate had never 
 required more active superintendence than at present ; when 
 the harvesting was yet to be completed, and those marks of 
 negligence which had escaped even the careful Owen's obser 
 vation were to be rectified, under the discriminating eye of the 
 master ; while, in addition to his cares at Lake Farm the busi- 
 
42G MABEL VAUGI1AX. 
 
 nes of his profession in the neighbouring city frequently called 
 him thither. 
 
 But, although his agricultural and legal labours were per 
 formed with promptness and efficiency, and his mental and 
 physical powers 'were taxed to a degree which would have 
 exhausted an ordinary man, he still found time and opportunity 
 for that social enjoyment which constituted his highest recrea 
 tion ; deeming a ten miles' ride, whatever might have been his 
 previous fatigue, a light penalty to pay for half an hour's inter 
 course with congenial minds. It was true, he came arid went 
 at such odd, uncertain seasons astonishing the household 
 equally by his arrival and departure that such surprises be 
 came familiar, and they scarcely realized the number and fre 
 quency of his visits ; still, as they looked back through the 
 weekly calendar, they could not but be reminded that there 
 was scarcely a day, some portion of which had not been glad 
 dened by his cheerful voice and smile. Whatever might be 
 the object which called him from home, he was sure to take 
 them in his way ; and even when summoned to the city, which 
 was in the opposite direction, he more than once contrived to 
 make a circuit which brought him to Harry's door; thus proving 
 the truth of the old proverb, that ' the longest way round is the 
 shortest way home.' If Mabel went out to ride, as she fre- 
 qnemly did on Helen's white pony, still a cherished favourite 
 of its mistress, she was not unlikely to come back attended by 
 their gallant neighbour ; and on one occasion when she had 
 accompanied Harry into the woods and been left by him in a 
 shady retreat while he explored a more distant part of the 
 forest, she was unexpectedly joined by Percival, who seated 
 himself upon the pine-strewn ground at her feet, caught up the 
 book from which she had been reading, and conversed with her 
 for nearly an hour upon literary themes, with the air of a man 
 never more utterly at leisure to play the agreeable; then 
 mounting his horse, which had been fastened to a tree, rode off 
 to meet a distant appointment, at the almost fearful rate of speed 
 rendered unavoidable by his voluntary delay. 
 
 With Madam Percival and Bessie, Mabel's intercourse was 
 necessarily much restricted by the intervening distance, which 
 they could not ignore as Bayard did ; and except on one or 
 two occasions, when Bessie drove over with her uncle and 
 passed an evening, and once when Mabel accompanied Helen 
 to return Madam Percival's visit, there was. for a fortnight or 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 427 
 
 more, no personal communication between the ladies of the two 
 households. It was scarcely possible to realize any barrier of 
 separation, however, so long 1 as Bayard continued the medium 
 of their reciprocal friendship; and, although he often made his 
 appearance under circumstances seemingly fortuitous, Mabel 
 could not but consider him as in some sort the representative 
 of her aged friend, and even attributed to her partiality many 
 of those evidences of kindness and attention for which she was 
 in reality indebted to him alone. 
 
 It seemed, indeed, an understanding- in the household, that 
 Bayard's visits, and his evident enjoyment in them, should be 
 a subject of no surprise, and should be attributed to no par 
 tial or ulterior motive. 
 
 If Harry observed their frequency, and questioned himself in 
 reference to their object, he never betrayed his thoughts, even 
 to his wife, merely remarking, with an air of self-congratula 
 tion, ' It is so gratifying to be able to return some of Percival's 
 hospitalities, and make him happy in our home !' 
 
 If Helen, through the power of an exquisite tenderness, 
 saw more than met the eye, and suspected far more than she 
 saw that same tenderness forbade her, by word or look, to 
 ruffle even the surface of Mabel's feelings ; and remembering 
 how, through long years, her own unspoken attachment to 
 Harry had received a sister's silent sympathy, she reverenced 
 the heart's sacred secrets, and guarded them as if they had 
 been her own. 
 
 And if Harry and Helen generously refrained from disturb 
 ing the quiet current of her thoughts, by so much as an embar 
 rassing suggestion or whispered inuendo, Mabel was still less 
 disposed to interpret in her own favour, those daily visits and 
 civilities, which, however gratifying they might prove, she 
 deemed a valued privilege of the common household. 
 
 The time had been, when vanity and self-love would have 
 lent a more flattering construction to anything so marked as 
 Bayaid's evident partiality for the society which her brother's 
 house afforded. But the bitter experience of Mabel's early 
 womanhood, and the chastening influences of succeeding 
 years, had effectually guarded her against the indulgence of 
 vain and delusive imaginations ; and it was no part of her 
 present character, to assume for herself any distinction, or 
 claim for herself any especial title to regard, 
 
 Thus, while every circumstance of their daily intercourse 
 
428 MABEL VAUGHAX. 
 
 served to increase her esteem for Percival, and exhibit his 
 personal and social traits in a new and attractive light, she 
 never even dreamed of establishing any exclusive ascendency 
 over a heart which seemed to be world-wide in its benevolent 
 sympathies. He might enter with animated and eager interest 
 into her favourite studies and pursuits ; but was not this charac 
 teristic of him in whatever society he might be thrown ? He 
 might omit no opportunity of rendering her a service, but was 
 not his simplicity of manner so tempered Avith chivalrous 
 gallantry that he would have done the same for the humblest 
 of the sex ? He might express no slight anxiety concerning 
 her health ; but could he do less in the case of one who was at 
 once his friend's sister, and his mother's friend ? It must be 
 confessed, too, that although leaving it wholly to Bessie to 
 avenge her cause, Mabel could not quite forget the unfavour 
 able nature of Bayard's early impressions concerning her. 
 And if now and then she experienced a conscious sense of 
 elation, at some involuntary tribute of praise from the truth 
 ful lips which were guiltless of flattery, the emotion was 
 instantly checked by the thought, ' it is but an endeavour 
 to atone for past censure, a confession wrung from him by a 
 sense of justice.* 
 
 But while Mabel indulged no ideal visions of conquest or 
 of power, and was as innocent as a child of any attempt at 
 influence or display, the friendship, which was the natural 
 growth of gratitude and respect, became daily more and 
 more an element of her being ; and, in an atmosphere free 
 from every restraint, it was enjoyed without check or hin 
 drance. 
 
 Thus, it was with unaffected pleasure that she greeted Per 
 cival, with undisguised regret that she saw him depart ; and 
 with confident, though serene anticipation, that she looked 
 forward to his speedy return ; deriving calm enjoyment, 
 meantime, in the society of Harry. and Helen, entering cor 
 dially into all their interests and schemes, and never attempt 
 ing to analyze the sources of that perfect contentment and 
 repose, both of body and mind, which were gradually restoring- 
 her to her wonted health. 
 
 One evening, Harry, who had been to the neighbouring 
 city, returned home at so late an hour that Mabel had already 
 retired, and did not see him until the following morning, 
 when they met at breakfast. ' I have news for you, May/ 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 429 
 
 said he, as she entered and took her seat at the table. His 
 face was glowing 1 with animation, and Mabel, observing it, 
 eagerly inquired into the nature of the tidings. 
 
 ' Nothing less/ replied he, 6 than the promise of an exciting 
 election. 1 found every body in the city engrossed with one 
 topic, which was the nomination of a candidate for the 
 vacancy that has lately been created in Congress by the 
 sudden death of our representative. I never witnessed a 
 more exciting scene than prevailed in the convention yester 
 day ; not as usual, on account of party conflicts and political 
 disputes, but because the whole assembly were so enthusiastic 
 in their opinions and their choice. There seemed to be but 
 one heart, one voice, one mind among them, and the una 
 nimous vote was welcomed by an almost deafening round of 
 cheers. I only wished the nominee could have been present 
 to hear the applause which accompanied the proclamation of 
 his name.' 
 
 ' I hope he is a worthy subject of their enthusiasm,' said 
 Mabel. 
 
 * You can judge for yourself,' replied Harry. ' He is no 
 other than our friend Percival !' 
 
 It would have been difficult to discover, amid the crowded 
 meeting of the day before, a more deeply interested and de 
 lighted countenance than that which Mabel turned upon her 
 brother at this unexpected announcement. There was a 
 dancing light in her eye, and a smile of proud satisfaction 
 in her face, which fully expressed her sympathy with the 
 vote of the people ; while her astonishment found expression 
 in the words: 'Is it possible, Harry? But I had no idea 
 that Mr. Percival thought of entering political life, or that 
 he had any taste for it.' 
 
 i I believe both his thoughts and his tastes to be wholly 
 averse to it,' said Harry, ' and I am by no means sure he will 
 accept the nomination.' 
 
 4 That would seem a pity,' remarked Helen ; ' he would be 
 such an honour to the State.' 
 
 1 True,' said Harry ; ' there is not a man in the common 
 wealth who would carry anything like his strength and 
 ability into the counsels of the country. But, if he relinquishes 
 his present mode of life to enter upon a political career, 
 I am confident that it will be at a great personal sacrifice. I 
 was one of a delegation who waited upon him last evening, 
 
430 MABEL VAUdllAX. 
 
 to inform him of his nomination. We found Mm quietly 
 reading law in his office, and I assure you he looked positively 
 pained when he learned the object for which he was sought. 
 " Mr. Smith," said he to the gentleman who was the spokes 
 man of our committee, " I was never more completely sur 
 prised, and, I may almost say, troubled, than I am by your 
 communication. I am very much flattered at being thought 
 worthy to fill this vacancy in Congress, but a political office 
 of any kind is a thing which I have never desired, and certainly 
 have never sought." 
 
 '"We all know that, Mr. Percival," said Mr. Smith, 
 " and that is the very reason why we shall be satisfied with 
 nobody else. ' Give us a man,' our honest back-country 
 people say, * in whom we can have confidence ; one who 
 would scorn to buy our votes, and who will never sell his 
 own conscience or the nation's rights for any political or 
 party bribe. Give us a man of whom we can say, He 
 will support the weak, and maintain the right, and be just 
 towards all ! We are united as to measures, but we are no 
 less so in respect to him who is to maintain them, and we want 
 our man/ " 
 
 ' I saw that Percival was moved. He passed his hand 
 across that broad forehead of his, and then rose and walked 
 up and down his office. Mr. Smith and some of the other 
 gentlemen continued to urge their point in the same strain ; 
 alluded to the critical state of the times, arid the anxiety of 
 every thoughtful mind to see the district represented by one 
 who had the confidence of the people, and was so universally 
 popular that he might remain long in the chair of office and 
 be a permanent pillar of the public welfare. 
 
 ' Percival listened rsepectfully and courteously to everything 
 they had to say; thanked them, and promised that he would 
 inform them of his decision to-day.' 
 
 ' And you think his reply will be in the affirmative ?' asked 
 Helen, while Mabel wore an earnest, thoughtful expression of 
 countenance, but said nothing. 
 
 4 He gave us no encouragement,' said Harry ; ' and I 
 confess I am at a loss with reference to his probable decision. 
 There can be no question that great issues are at hand in our 
 national counsels, and that, in no generation more than 'the 
 present, have such men as Percival been needed at the seat of 
 government. At no other time, and in no other way, can his 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 431 
 
 eloquence, wisdom, moderation, and fearless disinterestedness, 
 be made so available for his country's good. Still, when I 
 remember his passionate love for the free life of the West ; 
 the enthusiasm with which he has sketched out future improve 
 ments ; the adventurous spirit with which he undertakes 
 distant exploring expeditions ; the zest with which he engages 
 in a sportsman's pursuits ; and the independence with which 
 he has ever held himself aloof from the clash of party strife 
 nnd political conflict : I must acknowledge' (and Harry shook 
 his head doubtfully) ' that it is hard to picture our friend 
 setting out for Washington, to be cooped up for the greater 
 part of the year within the contracted limits of a dull city, 
 and condemned to the toilsome routine and hotly-contested 
 controversies of a member's duty, upon which, if he engages 
 in them at all, he will enter with all the faithfulness and 
 ardour of' his nature. I confess that, viewing it in this light, 
 I shall not wonder if he shrinks from the sacrifice ; shall you, 
 my dear ?' and he glanced at Helen, inquiringly. 
 
 ' I scarcely know,' said Helen, as she at this moment looked 
 up, while a smile overspread her face which was not intended 
 for her husband. * I will not venture an opinion until I have 
 heard him speak for himself.' 
 
 * And you, May ?' said Harry, who, not following the direc 
 tion of Helen's eye, failed to comprehend her arch and mean 
 ing smile, ' you know the whole story, and I see by your 
 face that your mind is made up, whether Percival's is by this 
 time or not. Will he stay or go ?' 
 
 'If I know him in the least,' said Mabel, with a firm and 
 unhesitating air, ' he will go at any sacrifice/ 
 
 At this instant Harry caught the expression of Helen's face, 
 and turned abruptly round in his chair. Mabel also looked 
 up, and directly behind her, in the doorway, stood Percival, 
 his face flashed with exercise, his riding boots bespattered with 
 mud, his fine hair tossed back from his forehead, which was 
 resting on his hand, as he stood leaning against the door 
 frame, and his eyes, now that she had turned her face, fixed 
 full and expressively upon Mabel. 
 
 4 My dear friend !' exclaimed Harry, springing from his 
 seat, and grasping Bayard's hand, ' you are very welcome ! 
 You have come to breakfast, 1 hope !' 
 
 1 No, not to breakfast, Harry,' said Bayard, glancing apolo 
 getically at his spattered boots, and slightly resisting Harry's 
 
432 MAUKL VAU(.1IAN. 
 
 hospitable endeavour to draw him to a place at the table. * I 
 scarcely know for what I came, since I have only a moment 
 to spare. Advice, sympathy, encouragement, I believe, were 
 what I felt the want of; I have obtained them all, though 
 somewhat clandestinely, I fear, and now I must be on my way 
 again. Harry, have you the address of the gentleman who 
 was the chairman of your committee yesterday ? I forgot to 
 take it, and 1 must write to him when I reach home. Yes, 
 thank you, Mrs. Vaughan,' continued he, in reply to a propo 
 sition from Helen that he should at least take a cup of hot 
 coffee. ' I will with pleasure, if you will let me have it stand 
 ing ;' and while Harry went to look for the address, and 
 Helen ran to a cupboard in the next room for a cup and 
 saucer, he approached Mabel, who, in her confusion, had 
 forgotten even to bid him good morning, and said, at the same 
 time taking her hand : ' I trust you are not displeased, Miss 
 Mabel, at my overhearing your remark ; if I had one doubt 
 Jeft in regard to my duty, you have laid it at rest ; and believe 
 me, I will endeavour not to disappoint your kind confidence, 
 for which I am the more deeply grateful, that it is far beyond 
 my deserts.' 
 
 ' I should not have spoken with such decision if I had 
 known by whom I was overheard,' said Mabel, with a smile, 
 which, though embarrassed, denoted anything but displeasure ; 
 ' still, I am not disposed to retract/ 
 
 ' You have no need in this case,' said Percival, ' for I will 
 prove your words true; though since my decision has your 
 approval, the sacrifice will be comparatively light.' 
 
 There was neither occasion nor opportunity for any further 
 remark, for Harry had by this time returned with the address, 
 and Helen, also, brought the coffee, which Percival swallowed 
 hastily, then bade them all farewell, and in a moment more 
 was off on his homeward road. 
 
 * Mabel,' exclaimed Harry, laughing heartily as he sat 
 down to finish his breakfast, i I think the convention should 
 assemble once more, and tender you public thanks for the spur 
 you have given to their future representative. I suppose,' 
 added he, 4 we have seen the last of our candidate for some 
 four weeks to come ; he will be so much occupied in view of 
 the approaching election.' And Harry, for the first time, 
 cast a mischievous glance at his wife, which the dear, kind- 
 hearted Helen pretended not to see, and took care not to return. 
 
MABEL VAUGHAX. 433 
 
 But whether this prophecy of Harry's was made with play 
 ful irony, or in all seriousness, its falsehood was not long in 
 being- proved ; for while he canvassed the county, arid brought 
 home daily reports of Percival's universal popularity and un 
 doubted triumph, and Mabel indulged prophetic visions of his 
 future eminence and usefulness in a public career, the young 
 man himself, after writing his letter of acceptance, appeared 
 to give himself no further thought in the matter; but leaving 
 the fortunes of his election in the hands of his constituents, 
 devoted himself with increasing assiduity to those other plea 
 sures and cares which had their source and centre, not in the 
 field of political agitation, but in the domestic circle of his 
 friends. And as day after day found him still faithful at his 
 post of allegiance, Harry and Helen were tempted to whisper 
 to one another, under the strictest pledge of secresy, their 
 mutual and growing suspicion that, though indifferent to pub- 
 ]ic favour, he was the ambitious and self-appointed candidate 
 for higher honours than the people had power to bestow ; and 
 that he had almost forgotten his popular election while bend 
 ing all his powers to win for himself the pre-eminence in one 
 priceless heart. 
 
 
 2 P 
 
( 434 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 I from the influence of thy looks receive 
 Access in every virtue, in thy sight 
 More >vise, more watchful, stronger, if need were 
 t Of outward strength. 
 
 MILTON. 
 
 IP there is one season more than another which, in its moving 
 associations, appeals to the American heart, and finds there a 
 sure response, it is that of the annual Thanksgiving. Origi 
 nally a New England festival, almost the only one established 
 by our pilgrim ancestors, and therefore, perhaps, the more 
 highly honoured, it has now become a welcome and hallowed 
 institution in every part of our wide-spread land, where ISfew 
 England's sons and daughters have found a home. Sacred to 
 family and social ties, gathering the scattered members of the 
 flock into one fold, awakening the liveliest emotions of grati 
 tude, and touching the heart's secret springs, it is to the young 
 a period of unmingled pleasure and excitement, to those in 
 middle life a time of zealous and disinterested effort to pro 
 mote the common enjoyment, and to the old, a season of so 
 lemn musings, touching memories, and immortal hopes. 
 
 Jt had been the cherished wish of Harry and Helen, as well 
 as the expectation of the whole family, that this anniversary, 
 now close at hand, should be celebrated at the house of the 
 young couple, and their friends at Lake Farm had been cor 
 dially invited to join them there. But when Madam Per- 
 cival learned that old Mr. Vaughan, his sister, and grand 
 sons, intended to prolong their visit during the whole of 
 Thanksgiving week, she lost no time in presenting an urgent 
 request, that on the actual day of the festival she might be 
 permitted to welcome their united family circle under her son's 
 roof. 
 
MAI3KL VAUGHAX 
 
 ' It is the only way, my dear sir,' said she, in a note which 
 Bessie wrote to the elder Mr. Vaughan at her dictation, 'in 
 which I can be enabled to participate in the pleasure of the 
 occasion, as a recent attack of rheumatism forbids my travel 
 ling at this season ; nor would I suggest such an exposure to 
 jourself after your recent severe illness, but I am assured 
 that you do not fear to brave even winter weather, if spared 
 from breathing the evening air; and, as our accommodations 
 are ample, we should insist upon your all spending the night 
 at Lake Farm. It is long since I have been privileged to col 
 lect a pleasant circle-about me on this most interesting of occa 
 sions; but by the memory which you, as well as myself, cannot 
 fail to entertain of many happy Thanksgivings in our New 
 Kngland homes, let me beseech you to make my cause good in 
 your children's estimation, and gratify both my son and myself 
 by your company on Thursday.' 
 
 Harry and Helen, upon the receipt of this note, were dis 
 posed to resist such an invasion of their claims. Sabiah de 
 murred greatly at the thought of accepting an invitation, which 
 was none the less formidable to the timid, retiring woman, 
 from Madam Percival's being dimly remembered as the 
 sympathising friend of her girlhood. ]\ label seemed a little 
 embarrassed at the idea of this change in the family plans ; and 
 the boys' faces were full of eager expectancy and doubt. 
 Mr. Vaughan, however, at once put an end to all hesitation, 
 by exclaiming with cheerful gallantry, 4 We cannot possibly 
 refuse, Harry ; do not say a word, my dear Helen, the ex 
 cellent lady must not be disappointed ;' and the honoured 
 head of the house, having thus promptly expressed himself in 
 Madam Percival's favour, all acquiesced in his decision, arid 
 an affirmative reply was despatched to the general invitation. 
 
 As if to facilitate the views of all parties, and give added 
 spirit to the events of the day, a light snow fell during the 
 previous night and hardened to a smooth, crisp surface, mak 
 ing admirable sleighing. According to an agreement entered 
 into in anticipation of a snow-storm, Bayard drove over in the 
 morning, in a covered vehicle which had been put on runners 
 the previous winter for his mother's convenience, and returned 
 with Sabiah, Mr. Vaughan, and Helen, while Mabel, now 
 restored to her usual health, accompanied Harry and the boys 
 in an open sleigh ; and all were borne rapidily over the level 
 prairie, to the cheerful sound of bells. A warm house and 
 
436 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 a warm reception awaited them on their arrival ; dinner suc 
 ceeded, with its social joys and abundant good cheer; other 
 entertainments, for young and old, presented themselves in 
 due course, and the hours wore pleasantly on. 
 
 It was now twilight of the festive day, and a happy and 
 animated group were assembled in the parlour at Lake Farm, 
 which, partially illumined by the long lines of light that 
 streaked the western sky, and still further cheered by the huge 
 wood fire which shed abroad its fantastic and fitful glare, 
 presented a rare picture of cheerfulness and comfort. In a 
 large arm-chair on the right, sat Mr. Yaughan, his hoary hair 
 and attenuated figure still marking him as one who had not. 
 been left untouched by time and disease, but his face, glowing 
 with a peaceful and even joyous serenity, which proclaimed that 
 newness of life, into which the old man had been born again. 
 Near him might be seen the venerable mistress of the house 
 hold, with her .soft white hands folded on her lap, the snowy 
 folds of her muslin neckerchief, and the flutings of her widow's 
 cap, contrasting with her dress of rich black satin, and her 
 whole attire adding, as far as anything foreign to herself could 
 add, to the dignity and grace of her noble person. Sabiah, 
 too, had found her niche in a corner of the opposite sofa, had 
 recovered from the awe with w r hich Madam Percival had at 
 first inspired her, and learning to recognize in her the beloved 
 Miss Bayard of her school-days, had settled herself into a 
 composed attitude, and now formed one of the aged trio, who 
 were watching the more youthful members of the company 
 and participating in their enjoyment. 
 
 They were all in high spirits, having just returned from an 
 expedition to the farm-house of Owen Dowst, where they had 
 been since dinner, according to invtiation, to attend the bap 
 tism of the little Rose, purposely appointed for this day, that 
 the occasion might be honoured by their presence. 
 
 The pleasing incidents attendant on the ceremony, the brisk 
 walk over the frozen and glistening snow, and their animated 
 satisfaction in each other's society, had given a fine glow to 
 their faces, and loosened their voluble tongues. Helen, always 
 keenly sensitive to cold, and rejoicing-in the bright blaze which 
 greeted them on their return, had seated herself on a low foot 
 stool between Aunt Sabiah's corner of the sofa and the wide 
 hearth-stone, and with her hand locked affectionately in that of 
 her old friend, was the very picture of sweet and gentle content. 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 437 
 
 In front of the sofa stood Mabel, her beautiful face lit up with 
 the fire-light, while she entertained her aunt with a spirited 
 account of the afternoon's proceedings; Alick on one side, as 
 sisting her to deliver with faithfulness a torrent of respectful 
 messages, of which Lydia had made her the bearer ; and Mur 
 ray, leaning over the arm of the sofa, and now and then aiding 
 the interest of the narrative by his graphic and witty allu 
 sions. 
 
 And while Sabiah listened attentively, and uttered many an 
 ejaculation of astonishment at Lydia's good fortune, Bessie, on 
 her part, was exciting the gratified smiles of Mr. Vaughan 
 and Madam Percival, as she recounted with that spice of play 
 ful exaggeration for which every one knew how to make allow 
 ance, the simple honours, which, in connection with the chris 
 tening, had been paid to Mabel, Bayard, and the boys, quite 
 to the exclusion, as she declared, of Mr. and Mrs. Harry 
 Vaughan and herself. 
 
 Harry and Percival, in the meantime, were stationed outside 
 the rest of the group, in the recess of a window, the latter 
 divided between his close observance of Mabel's varying ex 
 pression and his attempt to explain to Harry the principles of 
 a new reaping machine, just invented by Mr. John Hope, and 
 for which the ingenious young man was about to take out a 
 patent. 
 
 At this moment horses' hoofs were heard crackling the crisp 
 snow beneath their hoofs, as they came up the avenue ; and in 
 an instant more a figure on horseback shot rapidly past the 
 window. * It is John, my man/ said Harry, with no little 
 earnestness in his voice and manner. ' I sent him to the city 
 this morning ; he has probably just returned.' And thus speak 
 ing, he went, hastily from the room to meet his messenger, 
 leaving Bayard at liberty to consult his inclinations, and, if he 
 pleased, join the little group collected round the sofa. He did 
 not do so, however, but remained immovable in the recess of 
 the window, while, had the room afforded a stronger light, a 
 slight flush of anticipation and excitement might have been 
 seen to mount to his temples ; for although the rest of the 
 company had either failed to observe Harry's messenger, or 
 were unconscious of the tidings which he brought, Bayard him 
 self was well aware that the next moment would be to him 
 one of political defeat or triumph. 
 
 Ko one present was ignorant of the fact that the previous 
 
438 MAIJEL YAUGHAX. 
 
 day had witnessed the casting 1 of the electoral vote, in which 
 Bayard had so deep an interest. But it had not been thought 
 possible that the result could yet be determined ; and although 
 all hearts beat with expectancy, silence had. by common con 
 sent, been maintained on the subject, and it had been suffered 
 to interfere as little as possible with the Thanksgiving- fes 
 tivities. 
 
 The committee, of wl.iich Harry was a member, had. how 
 ever adopted such energetic measures for obtaining- the retui ns, 
 that, in spite of the snow-storm and the obstacle it proved to 
 their efforts, the exact result of the election had been pro 
 claimed in the city less than two hours before, and Harry's 
 messenger, who Avas on the spot for the purpose, had been at 
 once despatched by the chairman, to announce the intelligence 
 to the successful candidate. The eagerness which shone on 
 the man's face, no less than the abruptness of Harry's manner 
 and words, had at once betrayed to Bayard the nature of his 
 errand ; and, whatever emotions this knowledge excited, they 
 were still in full force, when Harry, who had apparently 
 scarcely had time to receive his despatch from the hand of 
 the man, rushed back into the room, and waving the docu 
 ment triumphantly above his head, came forward, with all the 
 warm-heartedness of friendship, and grasped Percival by the 
 hand, exclaiming, * Let me be the first to congratulate you, 
 my dear fellow, on this glorious victory !' and then glancing 
 at the official communication before him, he read aloud the 
 statement of Bayard's election by an overwhelming majority. 
 
 The tide of feeling which had agitated the hearts of the 
 little company, in view of the approaching crisis, and which 
 had swelled to a fuller flood in proportion as it had been 
 forcibly suppressed all day, now burst forth without restraint ; 
 and ^Bayard was at once surrounded by eager, excited faces, 
 and greeted on every side by a chorus of congratulations. 
 Nor, though seemingly less excited than the rest, was he the 
 man to be insensible or indifferent to these evidences of sym 
 pathy and affection. The popular demonstrations, the eager 
 acclamations of the tumultuous crowd, could have no po wet- 
 to move him, as did these simple tokens of social friendship 
 and family love ; and he responded to each Avith cordial and 
 unaffected satisfaction, while, as he felt the soft pressure of 
 Itis mother's hand, a tear started to his eye, which did no dis 
 credit to his manhood. 
 
I\IABEL VAUGIIAX. 44il 
 
 But there was one satisfaction, and that the greatest, which 
 was wanting to him in this his hour of triumph ; one voice, 
 and that the one most powerful to stir his soul, which alone 
 was silent; one form, which, while all the rest pressed eagerly 
 forward, still lingered in the back-ground. Yes, strangely 
 enough, while every one else was emboldened or inspired lo 
 some characteristic expression of delight, Mabel, hitherto 
 zealous in her friendly partizanship, seemed to be suddenly 
 struck dumb. Once, indeed, as Bayard's unsatisfied eye wan 
 dered round the little circle, it met hers, fixed full upon him, 
 with an eloquent, answering glance ; but her heart drooped 
 as she encountered his earnest gaze, and the next moment the 
 whole face was hidden from him, as she hastily withdrew into 
 the shadow afforded by her brother's tall figure. 
 
 Both the silence and the quick retreat were involuntary., 
 however ; and if this apparent coolness and reserve were pain 
 ful to Percival they were no less so to Mabel herself. For 
 a few moments, indeed, she had stood, intently watching the 
 countenance of the young man, as he received the congratu 
 lations of the rest, quite forgetful that some similar demonstra 
 tion might be expected on her own part ; nor was it until 
 she encountered his searching glance that the consciousix ss 
 flashed upon her, that she had as yet. given no expression to her 
 sympathy in the universal joy. She would then gladly have 
 repaired the omission ; but the very intensity of her emotions 
 checked and forbade their utterance. There was a quick 
 beating of the heart, which she found it impossible to subdue ; 
 and her instinctive retreat, beyond the outermost edge of the 
 little circle, was but the natural impulse of a sensitive mind, 
 which shrank from betraying its own unseasonable and vex 
 atious embarrassment. 
 
 Here, secure from observation, she strove to recover her 
 composure ; nervously watching a favourable opportunity for 
 addressing the hero of the occasion, and vainly endeavouring 
 to frame her thoughts into suitable words. But while she thus 
 waited and delayed, a new turn was given to affairs, Bayard 
 was suddenly summoned from the room and the opportunity 
 was lost. 
 
 A delegation of citizens had just arrived, having come hither 
 to rejoice over their victory, and shake hands with the popular 
 young representative. The confusion of tongues which had 
 prevailed in the drawing-room was now superseded by the 
 
440 JIAllKL VAU(J1IAX. 
 
 loud shuffling of feet on the verandah, the violent ring-in % O f 
 the door-bell, and the tumultuous and eager voices of the 
 throng, who, met by Bayard at the threshold, eagerly tendered 
 their congratulations and received his acknowledgments in 
 return. The sudden withdrawal of both Harry and Percival, 
 consequent on this arrival, and the sound of laughter and 
 -conversation proceeding from the dining-room, on the opposite 
 -^side of the hall, into which the new comers had been 
 ^ushered, had the effect of composing the little family circle 
 into a thoughtful, listening attitude; and one after another 
 they resumed their seats, and a comparative quiet reigned 
 -throughout the room. 
 
 In a retired corner, a little apart from the rest, Mabel 
 mused with her own thoughts, and gave ear to the occasional 
 dialogues which took place around her, seriously vexed, mean 
 while, at her own inability to assume a natural and uncon 
 strained air, and wondering whether, in the general excitement, 
 her own individual deportment had been observed and com 
 mented on. 
 
 No observation could be more critical or severe, however, 
 Jthan that which she exercised over herself. * What is the 
 ^meaning of this, Mabel Vaughan ?' was her inward interroga 
 tory. ' Who can be more pleased than you with the result of 
 this election? You have scarcely thought of anything else for 
 two or three weeks past ; it has been the object and end in 
 -''j'hich all your hopes have been centred ; you have been 
 longing for this end, for this day, all through the struggle! 
 You certainly are very, very glad of his success ! Why can I 
 mot tell him so, then, quietly and simply, which is all that 
 the occasion demands, and which would be sure to be under 
 stood?' 
 
 Why not? Indeed, she could not answer the question satis 
 factorily even to herself. She would have given worlds, had 
 they been at her disposal, rather than that Bayard should 
 suffer a defeat. Still, the announcement was so sudden it 
 involved so much ! Perhaps she realized more than others the 
 responsibility that rested upon the young man the bias that 
 was to be given to his whole future life. Perhaps she took into 
 the account, that it was an event not merely of private, but of 
 national interest. Why, otherwise, should she have experienced 
 that quick beating of the heart which effectually forbade 
 her utterance? Yes, she was glad, very glad, that was a 
 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 441 
 
 question which did not admit of a doubt. But she could 
 not speak so lightly as the rest did on a matter of such grave 
 concern she could not so readily subdue the emotions which 
 an event of such serious moment was calculated to excite. 
 
 The voice of Mr. Vaughan was now heard amid the general 
 silence, gravely remarking to Madam Percival : ' These 
 political constituents have snatched our young friend from 
 us at an interesting crisis; but after all it is only an illustra 
 tion of the general truth, that private friendship must yield to 
 the call of public duty ; nor must we complain of our personal 
 loss, since it introduces your son upon an arena where he is 
 .sure to play a worthy part. I congratulate you, Madam, with 
 all my heart, upon the honours which he has achieved to 
 night.' 
 
 ' I have never coveted any higher honour for my son,' said 
 Madam Percival, in reply, ' than that which belongs to every 
 man who faithfully does his duty. I thank you most sincerely, 
 my dear sir, for your friendly sympathy. But new responsi 
 bilities are a new test of character and ability; and, as a 
 parent, I almost shrink from congratulation until such time as 
 Bayard shall have proved that this is indeed a true occasion 
 for it.' 
 
 1 The past, liowever, is, to a great degree, prophetic of the 
 future,' replied Mr. Vaughan ; ' and you will not forbid 
 me to wish you joy, that there is in the young man himself 
 such good foundation for a people's confidence and a parent's 
 hopes.' 
 
 ' I will not deny, sir,' said Madam Percival, with a placid 
 smile, while her eye glistened with a maternal pride which 
 could not be wholly concealed, * that now, as always, I find 
 in this my highest satisfaction; and, to do Bayard justice, 
 I believe that his aims are pure, and his strength of will 
 indomitable. I pray God that he may be found as wise as I 
 know him to be brave and true.' 
 
 * Who can doubt his fitness for every emergency ?' thought 
 Mabel, as, while she watched Madam Percival's face, she felt 
 her own heart swell with a pride none the less deep, and far 
 more ardent than that which now sent a sudden glow to the 
 aged woman's cheek. * Has he not nobly fulfilled every trust 
 reposed in him as counsellor, brother, son, and friend ? The 
 mother may modestly disclaim the laurels which yet await his 
 brow ; but what honour is there in the nation's gift which we 
 
442 MABEL VAUGI1AX. 
 
 f 
 
 may not hope one day to see him wear ? How thankful we 
 should be, and how rejoiced we are, that the public have 
 claimed him as their representative, and have destined him to 
 an elevated and conspicuous career.' 
 
 This thankfulness, this joy, however, were not of the same 
 serene and placid character as Madam Percival's. Perhaps 
 they were none the less generous, none the less sincere, that 
 another, and in some degree rival emotion, now and then 
 asserted itself, and was only kept down by the vehemence and 
 resolution \vith which Mabel strove to convince herself that 
 the occasion was one of perfect and unqualified satisfaction. 
 This honourable and public service might imperatively 
 summon its votary from the domestic circle, it might engross 
 his time, to the exclusion of all minor claims. She did not 
 need her father's suggestion, to remind her that private 
 pleasures may sometimes clash with public duties ; for the 
 thought had Hashed upou her in the very moment of Bayard's 
 victory. But what then? Was there one among his friends 
 so cowardly as to shrink from the sacrifice ? "Was there one 
 so selfish as willingly to detain him a moment from his post V 
 one so mean as to estimate personal loss against the public 
 gain ? Reason proudly answered in the negative ; but a pang 
 shot through her heart at the question ; a sigh was the only 
 audible answer; and while joy sat on her countenance, her 
 spirits waged an inward war. 
 
 i I have been in the dining-room, where the gentlemen are !' 
 exclaimed Murray, approaching the spot wheie she sat, and 
 speaking in a tone of exultation. ' There are as many as 
 fifteen or twenty, standing round the fire, talking with Mr. 
 Percival and Uncle Harry. They are all so triumphant and 
 delighted about the election! it's capital fun to stand by and 
 listen. Come. Al, come in and hear them !' and he hurried 
 his brother away. 
 
 * How gratifying the presence of these friends must be to 
 Mr. Percival !' thought Mabel, as through the open door, by 
 which the boys left the room, she heard the indistinct murmur 
 of voices, and pictured to. herself the animated scene. i How 
 great must be the zeal which prompted them to a ten mile*' 
 ride on this wintry night! What staunch and true supporters 
 they will be to him in the future ! How closely their interests 
 will be allied to his ! How mutually confidential will be 
 the relations existing between them ! What a pleasant 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 443 
 
 excitement , their arrival adds to the other events of the 
 evening 1 .' 
 
 Such were Mabel's sentiments ; the only sentiments at least, 
 which she acknowledged, or of which she was distinctly con 
 scious. Why then that undefined sadness which crept over 
 her, as she mentally contrasted the partially-deserted drawing- 
 room with the well-filled apartment at the other end of 
 the house, where Percival gave reception to his political guests ? 
 Why that distinct remembrance which darted into her mind, 
 of her Aunt Sabiah's late denunciation of men engaged in 
 public life, and her assertion of its proverbial effect in weaken 
 ing- social sympathies and ties ? Why the restless tapping- of 
 her foot on the carpet as she impatiently awaited the de 
 parture of the district committee, and the sense of weariness 
 and discontent with which she thought ' How long they 
 stay!' then secretly glanced at her watch, adding, as she 
 did so, ' only eight o'clock ! I thought it had been nine.' 
 
 These latter shades of feeling were, however, but an under 
 current, and were outwardly veiled by her usual calm and 
 cheerful demeanour, to which she had been* restored almost 
 immediately upon Bayard's [leaving the room ; nor, whatever 
 might be the source of her secret uneasiness, could it be attri 
 buted to any conscious yearning for the society of those ab 
 sent ; for when, at length, the gentlemen from the city took 
 their departure, and Bayard and Harry hastened back to the 
 drawing-room, she seemed disconcerted rather than gratified 
 by their presence, and lost no time in ensconcing herself be 
 hind the tea-table, in one corner of the apartment. Here, she 
 begged from Madam Percival the privilege of making tea for 
 the company, an office which she performed in silence and 
 with methodical precision ; nor did she leave her place of 
 retreat until Percival was seated at the piano in the adjoining 
 library, and nearly all the rest had resorted thither for the 
 enjoyment of some music. 
 
 So closely do national and familiar airs interweave them 
 selves with associations of the past, that on the anniversary of 
 Thanksgiving scarcely any one could fail to express some pre 
 ference or ask for some favourite tune. Thus Bayard was 
 detained long at his post, and Bessie, whose catalogue of songs 
 was as exhaustiess as her good nature, maintained her place 
 beside him, turning over the leaves of the music-book and 
 accompanying him with power and spirit, while Harry, as 
 
444 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 occasion offered, aided them with his deep bass voice. Helen, 
 to whom the day had been fraught with many a tender memory, 
 waited patiently until the rest were satisfied, and then iri^a 
 tremulous tone begged that Percival would open the organ and 
 play upon it one or two sacred anthems which her father had 
 dearly loved a request which Bayard with his usual prompt 
 courtesy immediately complied with. 
 
 Mabel, meanwhile, still anxious to remain unnoticed. '.had 
 entered the room with a noiseless step and seated herself in an 
 ample bay-window at the extremity of the apartment ; in which 
 sheltered nook, partially screened by some heavy old-fashioned 
 draperies, she might enjoy the music undisturbed. Her attitude 
 was scarcely that of a gratified listener, however, as she sat 
 gazing 1 fixedly out on the smooth shining surface of snow, and 
 now and then pressing her aching head against the cool glass. 
 Once or twice, indeed, she might have been seen to start, as if 
 the chorus of a joyous glee grated harshly on her feelings ; 
 but with these exceptions she seemed scarcely conscious of the 
 protracted concert save as it afforded her a welcome opportu 
 nity of undisturbed thought and repose. 
 
 At length there was a pause in the music, and Mabel, 
 although insensible to the ordinary conversation which had 
 been going on around her, distinctly heard Harry remark to 
 his friend, ' We shall miss you sadly, Percival, this winter. 
 I suppose you will be obliged to leave for Washington next 
 month.' 
 
 ' I cannot tell perhaps not until January,' replied Bay 
 ard in an under tone, then added emphatically and with 
 compressed lips, * perhaps immediately.' 
 
 The last word only reached Mabel's attentive ear. It struck 
 cold upon her heart. Involuntarily she repeated it to herself. 
 It seemed to give form and shape to those vague and undefined 
 emotions which she could not comprehend and would fain have 
 crushed. * Immediately ! ' Mas the thought which forced it 
 self upon her 'the fiat has gone forth, and he must obey the 
 call without hesitation and without delay. He must turn his 
 back upon the home which he loves and the friends to whom 
 he is so justly dear. They will no longer hear his cheerful 
 voice as he enters the house unexpectedly at dusk, nor listen 
 to his horse's feet as he retreats in the distance, nor count upon 
 his aid when in difficulty or need, nor enjoy his books, nor 
 have the benefit of his advice. Even his horse and dog will 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 445 
 
 miss him ; his departure will spread a cloud over the landscape, 
 only to be dispersed by his return. 
 
 i It is true he goes on a noble errand ; he will serve the 
 cause of humanity and the best interests of his country ; he 
 will give her his time, his efforts, his affections ; he will meet 
 with a just reward ; he will be honest, beloved, and happy ; 
 but we ' 
 
 Alas, she could deceive herself no longer I Exultant, proud, 
 and thankful she might endeavour to be in this his hour of 
 triumph; but she could not be blind to the fact, that the 
 shadow which his departure would fling around was reflected 
 most deeply on her own heart ; that others might regret the 
 absence of a friend, but that for her, the sun of her life would 
 be set. 
 
 As thus painfully self-engrossed she peered tremblingly into 
 that night of the spirit, whicli was threatening to overtake her, 
 she failed to observe that the library had become nearly 
 deserted of its occupants, who one by one had received their 
 meed of satisfaction from the music and had returned to the 
 drawing-room. The organ still gave forth the soft, long-drawn 
 strains of beautiful symphony, and the pathetic minor tones, 
 keeping pace with her train of thought, were listened to almost 
 unconsciously. Not until they were suddenly brought to a 
 close, therefore, and a solemn silence succeeded, did she become 
 aware that Helen, who, overcome by the music, had been the 
 last to leave the room, had inadvertently closed the door be 
 hind her ; that the candles attached to the organ were extin 
 guished, and she and the organist were the sole inmates of the 
 quiet library, now lit only by the pale light of the moon, 
 which was streaming through the window by which she sat. 
 Her first impulse was to steal noiselessly away ; her next, to 
 wait in her place of partial concealment until Percival, who 
 was closing the organ lid, should have preceded her, but 
 both schemes were rendered equally abortive, for, so far from 
 leaving the room after shutting up the instrument, Bayard 
 folded his arms and with a deliberate air walked straight to the 
 window to look out into the night. She started at his 
 approach, and with a fluttered air was hurrying past him in 
 silence, but though scarcely less disconcerted than herself at his 
 discovery (for he believed her to have spent the entire evening 
 in the drawing-room), he arrested her with (he words, ' Do 
 not go,' at the same time standing aside to let her pass. 
 
44G MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 She stopped checked not so much by his words as by the 
 tone of his voice. 
 
 . * I did not mean to intrude upon you,' 'said he, as she stood 
 hesitating and irresolute, * but since I am here, indulge me for 
 a moment.' 
 
 Pie would have taken her hand to detain her, but she would 
 not trust it to him, conscious that it trembled ; and without 
 appearing to notice the movement on his part, she voluntarily 
 resumed her place in the window. 
 
 ' You are the only one of my friends who has not congratu 
 lated me to-night,' said he, as he seated himself beside her. 
 * I was half disposed at first to reproach you with indifference, 
 but on second thoughts I thank you rather for sparing me such 
 a mockery.' 
 
 She repeated his last word in a questioning* tone, at 
 the same time looking up at him for an explanation of its 
 meaning. 
 
 4 Yes, it is a strong term,' continued he, with a vehemence 
 of manner unusual to him ; * but congratulations from your lips 
 would have seemed to me scarcely less than a mockery to-nii>-ht. 
 Others might be blind to the truth, and their well-meant words 
 might be both acceptable and sincere, but I would fain flatter 
 myself that you understand me better, that you do me the jus 
 tice to believe that the events which outwardly wear a flatter 
 ing air, have caused me nothing but pain that no sentence of 
 exile or banishment could be more bitter than this unwelcome 
 summons, which calls me away from everything that is dearest 
 to me on earth.' 
 
 There was a tremulous depth in his voice as he thus spoke, 
 such as Mabel had never heard in it before. It almost star 
 tled her, She felt his eye fixed piercingly upon her ; but, 
 without daring now to look up and meet it, she faltered out, 
 ' Harry said it would cost you a sacrifice.' 
 
 * Harry ! What does he know of it ? What does any one 
 know ?' exclaimed Bayard, with an impetuous, almost an im 
 patient gesture. ' Who but myself can measure the pang it 
 costs me? I do not look for sympathy! J am stung with 
 congratulations ! But you,' arid his voice changed to one 
 of almost feminine tenderness and appeal, * you, who by 
 your holy confidence in my sense of right strengthened me 
 for this task, you will not at least refuse to wish me God 
 speed ?' 
 
MABEL VAUGIIAX. 447 
 
 < I? Oh, no !' replied Mabel ; and then added, hesitatingly, 
 arid scarcely knowing what she said, * I I wish you every 
 thing that iai good.' 
 
 ' And you will shrive me before I go ?' 
 
 She answered only by looking Timidly, anxiously up at him ; 
 then her glance wandered quickly round the room, as if she 
 meditated making her escape. 
 
 4 Yes, let this be my confessional,' said Bayard his words 
 following fast upon one another, as if he understood her inten 
 tion and would not be frustrated in his own purpose. ' I may 
 not depart with a light heart, but I would at least carry away 
 with me an easy conscience. I would disburden it of a weight 
 which has laid on it ever since the evening we first met, when, 
 in the blindness of a false and hasty judgment, I spoke, and 
 you overheard the unworthy words, which were repented of as 
 soon as uttered. Can you, will you forgive me for the blind 
 ness, the presumption, the folly for which I have never for 
 given myself? Can you deem it a sufficient atonement for 
 rny fault, that your first reproachful glance convicted me at 
 once of injustice and libel; that it has haunted my memory 
 ever since ; and that I cannot be at peace, as long as its 
 bhadow is upon my heart.' 
 
 ' And is that all ?' said Mabel, breathing more freely, while 
 a pensive smile overspread her face, as memory, which had 
 failed to treasure up the wrongs of that eventful evening, led 
 her back to the contemplation of the never-to-be-forgotten 
 benefits which Bayard had generously rendered her in her hour 
 of need. 
 
 * No, it is not all,' exclaimed he, with a returning vehemence 
 and fervour, which he strugled with, vainly endeavouring to 
 be calm. 'You overheard me, when I rashly undertook to 
 interpret the character which I had neither the wisdom nor 
 the charity to read aright. I beseech you, then, to listen to 
 have patience with me to believe me, when 1 tell you, that 
 the lesson of goodness, beauty, and truth which you have 
 been teaching me ever since, is such as to make me ready to 
 hide my face and exclaim, "So, this is your cold, artificial, 
 worldly woman ! Never trust yourself again. Bayard Per- 
 cival." ' 
 
 * Mr. Percival,' said Mabel, her calmness partially restored, 
 as she saw how much Bayard was moved, 'you wrong youi- 
 self and me, when you waste so much regret on words 
 
448 MABEL VAUGIIAX. 
 
 spoken at random, and forgiven, I assure you, as promptly as 
 they were truly atoned for. If my mind often recurs to the 
 evening of which you speak, it is not to dwell on my own 
 wounded vanity, but on a kindness which touched me to the 
 heart. Do not ever think of the occasion again, unless you 
 should some day be tempted to doubt that I know what it is to 
 be grateful.' 
 
 Her voice shook and quivered as she uttered the last syl 
 lable ; and, once more impelled to take refuge in night, she 
 sprang from her seat and would have darted from the room. 
 But Bayard was on the watch. Something in her manner had 
 led him to anticipate the movement, and, starting up, he caught 
 her by the hand. 
 
 ' Stay, Mabel stay,' 'cried he, in a voice of deep emotion, 
 you must not you shall not go. I have made but half 
 my confession yet. Hear me for a moment only, and then, 
 if you bid me, I will depart and you shall never see me 
 more.' 
 
 She stopped short mute, transfixed, and statue-like. Even 
 the hand, which had shaken with a nervous tremour, ceased 
 to flutter, as he held it in his firm grasp. There was something 
 awful and impressive in the agitation of this strong man, usually 
 so calm and self-possessed ; and Mabel's heart almost ceased 
 to beat as she observed how his chest heaved, and his lips 
 refused to give utterance to the thoughts which were work 
 ing within. But when they came at last, those words of pathos 
 and of power, they seemed to sweep through all the chambers 
 of her soul, penetrating to the very seat of her life, and telling 
 of a love as mighty and strong as the heart that had conceived 
 it was elevated and noble. With all the simplicity and ardour 
 of youth, with all the eloquence and force of mature manhood, 
 did he plead his cause, pouring into her ear the story of a deep 
 and true affection, which had implanted itself in the fibres of 
 his nature more than six years before, and had silently and 
 secretly taken root in the generous soil, to expand and blossom 
 at last in the sunshine of her presence and her smiles. 
 
 * I have loved my Western home-with a boyish enthusiasm,' 
 exclaimed he, at length, as having poured forth the tale of his 
 hopes and fears, he scanned her colourless features, and in their 
 marble-like pallor and rigidity could not as yet read his answer. 
 ' I have rejoiced in the freedom and independence of my un 
 shackled life; I have shrunk from everything that had a ten- 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 449 
 
 dency to win me from my favourite pursuits. Still I could 
 have broken away at the call of duty ; I could have looked 
 even exile cheerfully in the face, and dared fortune to do her 
 worst, glorifying in my native strength. But it is so no 
 longer. My resolutions are weaker than any child's ; my 
 courage fails me in the most critical moment of my life. I 
 dare not say but that I should have evaded the present call, 
 had not your generous confidence urged me on. But now 
 there is no drawing back. I must break up the habits and 
 associations which have come to possess a nameless charm ; 
 I must bid farewell to the spots round which your image will 
 for ever cling. Duty bids me depart ; and you, too, echo her 
 voice. O Mabel!' His tone was low, sweet, and full of 
 touching earnestness, as he made this final appeal * O Mabel ! 
 must I go alone ?' 
 
 The heart which had seemed to stand still, while Bayard 
 unfolded, with passionate fervour, the indwelling secret of his 
 strong love, vibrated with sudden motion as his impetuous 
 words thus gave place to low, half-whispered entreaty ; the 
 blood which had seemed to ebb away in a cold, stagnant 
 stream, rushed back in a warm, living current, and the long- 
 suppressed, subdued, and hidden emotion of Mabel's soul was 
 stirred into sudden life. It was no blind sentiment, no tran 
 sient preference, which thus lay treasured in the inmost re 
 cesses of her being ; it was a holy and pure affection, born of 
 gratitude, nursed by time, strengthened by respect, and per 
 fected by that union of habit, principle, thought, and feeling, 
 which moulds two hearts into one. It lay deep, and she had 
 concealed it well ; so well, that until now she herself had sus 
 pected but half its power. The time had come, however, 
 when it could be repressed no longer. She felt it in the trem 
 bling agitation which vibrated through her whole frame, until 
 she tottered where she stood : she betrayed it in the hot, rush 
 ing tide which suffused her neck, her cheek, her brow, with 
 crimson, and tingled to her fingers' ends. She could not speak, 
 but she laid the hand that was free on the hand which Bayard 
 still firmly held ; he clasped them both in his, and was answered. 
 The nervous agitation which caused her to tremble like an 
 aspen leaf, was subdued and tranquillized as she felt herself 
 folded in his strong embrace ; and the heart which had been 
 schooled by experience, purified by suffering, and ennobled by 
 
450 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 patient endurance, realized that it had found at last its true, 
 its perfect earthly rest. 
 
 ###### 
 
 And what did they all say when Mabel's engagement was 
 announced ? for engagements must come out, and everybody 
 must say something. 
 
 It did not come out until the next day, for Bayard returned 
 to the drawing-room at length without his promised bride, who 
 was lost to the family for the remainder of the evening. Mur 
 ray went to look for her, being anxious that she should witness 
 a brilliant aurora which was visible in the north, but returned 
 to say, that he feared Aunt Mabel had a headache, as she did 
 not open her room door, but begged him to excuse her to 
 Madam Percival and the rest of the company. 
 
 When she awoke, however, the following morning, she found 
 her venerable hostess sitting by her bedside. * Good morning, 
 my dear child, my dear daughter !' said she, leaning over 
 her, smoothing the hair back from her forehead, and kissing her 
 tenderly. Bayard has told me all, it is as I have fondly 
 wished, I could ask no better comfort for my old age. 
 My son will be very happy, and you excuse a mother's par 
 tiality, but you will have a husband worthy of you.' 
 
 Mabel sprang up and threw her arms round her dear, re 
 spected friend. ' Oh, the blessing,' exclaimed she, with tear 
 ful eyes, * of knowing, for the first time within my recollec 
 tion, what it is to claim a mother's love !' 
 
 * Your union with Bayard, my dear,' said the old lady, * will 
 but set a seal to the compact which my heart made with you 
 long ago. You are mine by adoption no less than by his 
 choice ; it is sweet to me to feel that my affections went out 
 instinctively to meet the daughter soon to become mine by a 
 most holy tie ;' and once more pressing Mabel to her bosom, 
 she hastened from the room, to recover the composure which 
 this interview had sensibly disturbed. 
 
 ' Come with me,' said Mabel to Bayard, who had been 
 pacing up and down the hall, just outside her door, and was, 
 consequently, the first person whom she met when she left her 
 room. * Come with me to my father.' 
 
 The old gentleman was an early riser, and, as Mabel had 
 anticipated, was up, and sitting alone in front of the library fire. 
 He laid down his spectacles and book as his daughter and their 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 451 
 
 youthful host entered the room together, and gazed at them 
 with no little surprise, for they had the earnest look of persons 
 with a positive object in view. Mabel went behind his chair 
 and whispered in his ear. He looked round at her, half in 
 credulously, then bestowed an earnest, inquiring glance on 
 Percival. ' You will be to her the friend that she deserves?' 
 said he at length. 
 
 1 1 will, sir, with God's help,' answered the young man 
 solemnly. 
 
 i Take her then,' said the father, rising from his chair, and 
 laying a hand on the head of each. ' This is unexpected to 
 me, but not unwelcome. If, having been a good daughter is 
 any security that she will be a good wife,' continued he, ad 
 dressing Bayard, ' you will never repent your choice. God 
 bless you both !' 
 
 ' Two elections in one day, you lucky fellow !' exclaimed 
 Harry, who came in at the moment, and understood at a 
 glance how matters stood. ' I give you joy ! and I hope it will 
 not be considered in any degree disparaging to the district 
 which you represent, if I remark, that I consider the last vic 
 tory you have achieved greater than the first, and a more wor 
 thy subject of rejoicing, not only for your sake, but for that of 
 my dear sister, and of every one who has her happiness at heart.' 
 Though Harry addressed himself to Bayard, his look of affec 
 tion was fixed on Mabel, whom he drew towards him as he 
 finished speaking, and clasped in a brotherly embrace. 
 
 4 1 hope you will both be as happy as we are, Mabel dear,' 
 whispered Helen, who had followed her husband into the room; 
 ' I can offer you no warmer wish.' 
 
 Bessie now made her appearance in a state of great excite 
 ment. She had learned the news from her grandmother, and 
 her delight, which was, no doubt, extreme, was almost lost in 
 the excess of her astonishment. ' I never was so cheated in 
 my life,' exclaimed she. * I am provoked, beyond all patience, 
 to think what a game you have been playing almost before my 
 face and eyes, and I as blind as a bat to the whole thing ! 
 Why isn't anybody else astonished, I want to know?' and 
 she gazed inquiringly from one face to another. 1 1 thought 
 you disliked my uncle, Miss Vaughan,' said she in an expos- 
 tulatory tone. ' I thought you had an old grudge against him. 
 And so you, Uncle Bayard, propose uniting yourself to an 
 iceberg, after all ?' Bayard smiled. Bessie saw that her cut- 
 
452 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 ting- allusion failed to exercise its accustomed effect. ' Mabel 
 has forgiven me/ said Percival. * Your tongue, my little 
 Bessie, has lost its power to wound.' 
 
 There was a marked contrast in the manner with which the 
 boys received the announcement. Murray shouted with joy, 
 and civilly asked Madam Percival's leave to give three cheers. 
 Alick scanned Percival's face with as keen and anxious a 
 scrutiny as if he would have pierced to his very soul, kissed 
 Mabel impulsively, rushed from the room and (he was sixteen 
 years old, and a tall boy for his age, but, nevertheless, it must 
 be confessed) he wept. 
 
 * Well now,' said Sabiah, whom Mabel sought, and informed 
 privately of the event, ' you don't mean so ! Upon my word 
 it's so sudden I don't know what to think ! Why, you never 
 saw him more than half-a-dozen times in your life, did you, 
 Mabel?' 
 
 Mabel confessed the frequency with which they had met 
 during her visit at Harry's. 
 
 6 My word ! Then all the time other folks have been 
 electioneering, and so on, he's spent his time in wooing. 
 Well, he's a fine young man ; I never had anything in the 
 world against him, except his being so mixed up with politics ; 
 and if he has neglected his public interests, as they say, after 
 this fashion, to play the agreeable to his lady-love, I'm think 
 ing his wife will never be second-best whatever may turn up ; 
 so I think the heart you've won, you're pretty sure to keep 
 against all odds !' 
 
 And Sabiah was right ; for with Bayard Percival to love 
 once was to love for ever. 
 
( 453 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 I have seen one, whose eloquence commanding 
 Roused the rich echoes of the human breast, 
 
 The blandishments of wealth and ease withstanding, 
 That hope might reach the suffering and oppressed. 
 
 And by his side there moved a form of beauty, 
 Strewing sweet flowers along his path of life, 
 
 And looking up with meek and love-lent duty ; 
 I called her angel, but he called her, wife, 
 
 ANON. 
 
 IT was near the close of a December day. Mr. Vaughan 
 and his family had been now for some weeks re-established in 
 their home, and Mabel, who, amid manifold cares and occupa- 
 pations had secured one half-hour of leisure, had seated herself 
 for the last time at her little desk, in front of the familiar win 
 dow which commanded a view of the wide -spreading prairie. 
 The light busy foot of Helen was astir in the house, and the 
 voice of Melissa might be heard now and then in the adjoin 
 ing kitchen, in the elated arid authoritative tone of one who 
 magnified her office. The boys were passing to and from the 
 barn, taking a final look at their favourites among the flocks 
 and herds, and giving their parting charges to farmer James. 
 Everything gave token of some great event near at hana, 
 some thorough breaking up of old ties, some grand migration 
 among the household. The little sitting-room, however, was 
 quiet and peaceful ; business and preparation might prevail 
 outside, but neither were permitted to intrude into this domestic 
 sanctuary, where Mr. Vaughan and his sister sat in their ac 
 customed arm-chairs, before the fire, while the old house-dog 
 was asleep on the rug. For a moment or two Mabel retained 
 a thoughtful attitude, with her head resting on her hand, her 
 eyes now straying over the wide wintry landscape without, 
 now fixed with tender interest upon the picture of serene repose 
 
454 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 within the room ; then taking up a pen, she bent over her 
 desk and wrote- the following letter: 
 
 * DEAR MRS. HERBERT : When I look back to the days 
 of my childhood, there ever arises before me the image of one 
 dear friend, whose tender love and devoted care made it a 
 blessed and happy portion of my life. When I consider the 
 years which hare since intervened, I cannot fail to be reminded, 
 that at every step I have been counselled, strengthened, and 
 cheered, by the advice, the warnings, and the lessons of this 
 same dear friend ; and now that I am about to enter upon a new 
 sphere of duty, I feel an instinctive yearning to still claim a 
 place in her good wishes, her aifection, and her prayers. 
 You have cherished the child, encouraged the woman let rne 
 bespeak your loving sympathy for the wife. It does not be 
 come me to say much of him to whom, to-morrow, I expect to 
 stand in this new and near relation. Some day I trust, you 
 will see and know Mr. Percival, and be enabled to judge for 
 yourself. But if genuine simplicity and true manliness of 
 heart and life entitle a man to honour, I may well be proud of 
 the station which lie holds, both independently, and in the 
 world's opinion ; and if strength of Christian principle is the 
 surest foundation for confidence and trust, I may well believe 
 that the sentiments which he now professes are sincere, and 
 will be lasting. I trust I have not said too much ; but indeed, 
 dear Mrs. Herbert, my only fear is that I am not worthy to be 
 the object of his choice ; and it is that I may become so, that 
 I chiefly beg an interest in your prayers. Bayard (for you 
 will wish to know him by his Christian name also) is the son 
 of Counsellor Percival, as he was usually called, a lawyer, for 
 merly of high standing in New York, but now for some years 
 dead. His widow is still living, vigorous and active, although 
 nearly seventy-six years of age. She, too, is well known in 
 New York and elsewhere, for the active part she has taken in 
 every philanthropic and benevolent scheme ; nor does she, 
 even at her present advanced period of life, feel herself excused 
 from exertion, or unfitted for active duty. You will realize 
 this, when I tell you that she has recently taken a house in 
 Cambridge, with the view of furnishing a home for two of her 
 grandsons, now students at Harvard, and that she has invited 
 Alick and Murray also to become members of her family. 
 No proposition could have been more opportune, so far as the 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 455 
 
 boys are concerned ; for Alick hopes to be prepared for ad 
 mission to the University at the commencement of the next 
 collegiate year, and Murray could nowhere pursue, to such 
 advantage, the mathematical studies which are to fit him for 
 his chosen profession that of an engineer. At first, we all 
 opposed the plan, fearing Madam Percival was assuming too 
 much care ; but she overpersuaded my father and Harry, con 
 vinced me that she anticipated only pleasure from the charge, 
 and finally carried her point. 
 
 * I could have wept, as on my last visit to Lake Farm, Mr. 
 Percival's residence, she half playfully, half solemnly, resigned 
 to me all her responsibilities there, at the same time assuring 
 me that nothing but her unwillingness to leave Bayard alone, 
 prevented her from carrying into operation, nearly a year be 
 fore, this cherished plan for the benefit of her grandsons. My 
 capacity for filling her honoured place at Lake Farm is not at 
 present to be put to the test, as Mr. Percival has recently been 
 elected member of Congress from this district, and we are to 
 set out for Washington im mediately after the marriage cere 
 mony. My dear father will accompany us. I could not endure 
 the thought of being separated from him ; and he, on his part, 
 seems to find pleasure in the prospect of a winter at the seat 
 of government, where I hope that the milder climate will 
 strengthen his constitution, and that the interest which he al 
 ready begins to feel in the debates will employ his mind 
 agreeably. You will be glad to hear that he has quite relin 
 quished all business and pecuniary cares, and is in the enjoy 
 ment of a contentment and serenity which it is delightful to 
 witness. Aunt Sabiah is to spend the winter with Harry and 
 Helen ; but next summer will, I trust, restore her to me ; for 
 I shall never relinquish my claim to this beloved member of 
 our family. It is a fortunate circumstance for us, that, after 
 half a dozen years of persevering effort, Melissa has at last 
 succeeded in bringing farmer James to the point. They were 
 married, with no little parade and ceremony, during our ab 
 sence at Thanksgiving time, and will probably continue to 
 occupy the house and the adjacent land for as many years as 
 they see fit. 
 
 ' To-morrow, therefore, will be an eventful day to us all 
 a day when, not I alone, but all the rest of the household 
 will be called upon to bid farewell to that Western home, 
 which, humble as it is, has become to us a dear and honoured 
 
456 MABEL VAUGHAN. 
 
 spot, and will be cherished in years to come, as the blessed 
 haven of rest, which afforded us a safe and welcome shelter 
 from the storm of adversity and trial. Blessings on its bare 
 white walls, its plain black hearth, its low-roofed rooms ! they 
 have taught us that happiness is independent of ornament ; 
 that contentment brings joy to the humblest fireside ; and that 
 love knows no limits and often expands the widest in the nar 
 rowest space. We may go the world over, and view with 
 admiration its monuments of grandeur and pride ; but our 
 grateful hearts can never forget what we owe to our prairie 
 home. 
 
 4 I take great pleasure in the thought, that, in the approach 
 ing spring or summer, the claims of love and duty will pro 
 bably call us to JN T ew England. I shall then hope to see you 
 once more, my dear and honoured friend. Meanwhile, believe 
 me now, as ever, your tenderly attached, 
 
 MABEL VAUGHAN.' 
 
 In that hour of sweet anticipation and happy imagining, 
 fancy might well robe the future in its fairest colourings ; but 
 the hope expressed in the latter clause of Mabel's letter, was 
 nevertheless, destined to disappointment. Not many weeks 
 after the receipt of these welcome tidings from her beloved 
 pupil, Mrs. Herbert met the great summons which awaits all 
 the living, and when Mabel, at length, visited the home of her 
 childhood, it was but to weep over the grave of this early 
 friend. 
 
 Not less vain, too, was her fond trust, that change of climate 
 and scene might tend to strengthen and prolong the life of her 
 venerable parent. Mr. Vaughan's health was too much en 
 feebled to admit of anything more than a temporary improve 
 ment, and although he rallied during the winter, and evidently 
 reaped both pleasure and benefit from his residence in Wash 
 ington, spring found him wasting under a slow disease, and 
 when summer came he was like a shock of corn fully ripe. 
 Serenely, quietly, peacefully, however, his long life drew to a 
 close; and in his daughter's beautiful Western home, sur 
 rounded by those whom he loved, soothed by their tender 
 offices, and sustained and cheered by a calm and heavenly hope, 
 he gently passed away. 
 
 ******** 
 
 1 Harry,' said Percival, one evening when the two friends 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 457 
 
 were sitting on the verandah at Lake Farm, * I think I have 
 heard you say that you formerly knew Lincoln Dudley ?' 
 
 ' Yes ; I knew him well,' replied Harry ; ' what of 
 him?' 
 
 ( I saw to-day, in looking over the passenger list, that he 
 had sailed for Liverpool in the Canada. Poor fellow! he is 
 still restlessly striving, I suppose, to get away from that worst 
 enemy himself.' 
 
 ' As if it were possible/ responded Harry, ' to break loose 
 at last from the object of nearly forty years' assiduous devotion ! 
 Or, if he could succeed, what a void the world would necessarily 
 present to the man who never had a hope, or an aim, which 
 had not ultimate reference to his own benefit !' 
 
 ' I have seldom known a more complete instance of perverted 
 and wasted powers than may be witnessed in Dudley,' said Per- 
 cival. ' Johnson, an old chum of his, gave Mabel and myself, 
 last winter, a truly pitiable account of his condition. It seems 
 he has become a most wretched dyspeptic ; weighs his food 
 with scrupulous exactness, limits himself in respect to exercise 
 and fresh air, and analyzes his physical symptoms with morbid 
 accuracy. His once brilliant intellect is thought to be seriously 
 impaired, and there is every prospect of his becoming a com 
 plete hypochondriac.' 
 
 ' Indeed !' exclaimed Harry ; ' what a melancholy picture ! 
 What an object of compassion he has become ; and what a 
 warning !' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Percival, ' there could be no more striking 
 proof of the fact, that refinement, self-culture, and polished 
 address, are worse than useless, unless accompanied by earnest 
 faith, manly purpose, and generosity of heart. Dudley was, 
 at one time, my father's ward, and an occasional inmate of his 
 house. I well remember the admiration which his talents and 
 accomplishments excited in me as a boy ; and I have often 
 heard my mother regret the selfishness and vanity which had 
 been early encouraged in him, and which were so fostered in 
 succeeding years as effectually to steel him against her own 
 and my father's counsels. He is an example of a class, un 
 fortunately too common in the world, who, presenting a fair 
 exterior, nevertheless make shipwreck of their own fortunes, 
 and exert an influence upon others as disastrous and fatal as it 
 is fascinating and insidious.' 
 
458 MABEL VAtJGHAN. 
 
 'How he would once have ridiculed such a specimen of 
 humanity as he now presents !' said Harry, musingly. 
 
 1 Yes,' said Bayard; 'but "where fools may laugh, wise 
 men can only weep." ' 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 As if to prove the fallacy of earthly longings, and manifest 
 the mysterious workings of God's providence, in less than a 
 year after Mr Vaughan's death, the long-talked-of road to 
 which the old man's thoughts had in vain turned, as the iron- 
 bound link between his past and his present fortunes, the path 
 way to better days, the only hope for his own and his children's 
 future ceased to be the vision of soaring imaginations, and 
 became a solid reality. The schemes and plans which had 
 wearied the brain of the hoary man, and the failure of which 
 had well-nigh broken his heart, were at length brought to a 
 successful fulfilment, without the aid of his mediation, and 
 the waste lands of the wilderness became, in time, a noble patri 
 mony to Harry, the young Leroys, and Mabel. Not, however, 
 until Harry's good resolution, his firm self-control, his patient 
 industry, had been tested by years of privation and labour ; 
 not until Alick and Murray, one in classical pursuits, and the 
 other in more practical studies, had won their meed of praise, 
 nobly resisting the temptations of youth, and labouring with 
 the ardour inspired by necessity and self-dependence ; not 
 until Mabel, amid the cares which she assumed as a wife, and 
 the responsibilities attendant upon a new scene of action, had 
 proved herself worthy of a man whose aims were as exalted as 
 his life was useful ; and not until her noble husband had found, 
 amid competence yet frugality, a happiness to which money 
 could bring no increase, and had earned among his fellow-men 
 a high and honourable position to which wealth could add no 
 dignity. 
 
 To follow Mabel in her after career would be to anticipate 
 the future. Her lot is but that of humanity ; and time, while 
 it serves to ripen and perfect her joys, must bring with it 
 changes, anxieties, and sorrows. It may lead her through 
 pleasant and flowery paths ; it may call her to mount the hill 
 of difficulty, and drink the bitter waters of affliction ; but may 
 we not have faith to believe, that every circumstance and 
 every change will serve to minister to her final peace, and 
 that earth's short pilgrimage will prove the pathway to an 
 
MABEL VAUGHAN. 459 
 
 eternal rest ? Yes, to her, as to all who early learn life's 
 holiest lesson, pleasure is henceforth sanctified, anxiety re- 
 | lieved, and pain and disappointment robbed of their bitterest 
 1 sting ; while alike, amid the sunshine and the storm, the puri- 
 ; fied heart sees God, sees Him not only as the Almighty Judge, 
 but as the Infinite Father, the source whence all those sweet 
 affections flow which illumine, and strengthen, and redeem the 
 world : and seeing Him, believes that all the varied dispensa 
 tions of His providence are alike good, since all flow from 
 the hands of One who afflicts but in mercy, who wounds but 
 to heal, and who, amid all life's varied discipline, is ever 
 proving to the eye of Faith that His banner over us is Love. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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