THE MAID OF MAIDEN LANEA Sequel to "The Bow of Orange Ribbon. "A Love Story

BY AMELIA E. BARRAuthor of "The Bow of Orange Ribbon, " "Friend Olivia, " etc. 

1900

CONTENTS

I. THE HOME OF CORNELIA MORANII. THIS IS THE WAY OF LOVEIII. HYDE AND ARENTAIV. THROWING THINGS INTO CONFUSIONV. TURNING OVER A NEW LEAFVI. AUNT ANGELICAVII. ARENTA'S MARRIAGEVIII. TWO PROPOSALSIX. MISDIRECTED LETTERSX. LIFE TIED IN A KNOTXI. WE HAVE DONE WITH TEARS AND TREASONSXII. A HEART THAT WAITSXIII. THE NEW DAYS COMEXIV. HUSH! LOVE IS HERE!

CHAPTER I

THE HOME OF CORNELIA MORAN

Never, in all its history, was the proud and opulent city of New Yorkmore glad and gay than in the bright spring days of Seventeen-Hundred-and-Ninety-One. It had put out of sight every trace of British rule andoccupancy, all its homes had been restored and re-furnished, and itssacred places re-consecrated and adorned. Like a young giant ready torun a race, it stood on tiptoe, eager for adventure and discovery--sending ships to the ends of the world, and round the world, on messagesof commerce and friendship, and encouraging with applause and rewardsthat wonderful spirit of scientific invention, which was the Epic of theyouthful nation. The skies of Italy were not bluer than the skies aboveit; the sunshine of Arcadia not brighter or more genial. It was a cityof beautiful, and even splendid, homes; and all the length and breadthof its streets were shaded by trees, in whose green shadows dwelt andwalked some of the greatest men of the century. 

These gracious days of Seventeen-Hundred-and-Ninety-One were also theearly days of the French Revolution, and fugitives from the Frenchcourt--princes and nobles, statesmen and generals, sufficient for a newIliad, loitered about the pleasant places of Broadway and Wall Street, Broad Street, and Maiden Lane. They were received with courtesy, andeven with hospitality, although America at that date almost universallysympathized with the French Republicans, whom they believed to be thepioneers of political freedom on the aged side of the Atlantic. Themerchants on Exchange, the Legislators in their Council Chambers, theworking men on the wharves and streets, the loveliest women in theirhomes, and walks, and drives, alike wore the red cockade. TheMarseillaise was sung with The Star Spangled Banner; and the notoriousCarmagnole could be heard every hour of the day--on stated days, officially, at the Belvedere Club. Love for France, hatred for England, was the spirit of the age; it effected the trend of commerce, itdominated politics, it was the keynote of conversation wherever men andwomen congregated. 

Yet the most pronounced public feeling always carries with it a note ofdissent, and it was just at this day that dissenting opinion began tomake itself heard. The horrors of Avignon, and of Paris, the brutalitywith which the royal family had been treated, and the abolition of allreligious ties and duties, had many and bitter opponents. The clergygenerally declared that "men had better be without liberty, than withoutGod, " and a prominent judge had ventured to say publicly that"Revolution was a dangerous chief justice. "

In these days of wonderful hopes and fears there was, in Maiden Lane, avery handsome residence--an old house even in the days of Washington, for Peter Van Clyffe had built it early in the century as a bridalpresent to his daughter when she married Philip Moran, a lawyer who grewto eminence among colonial judges. The great linden trees which shadedthe garden had been planted by Van Clyffe; so also had the high hedgesof cut boxwood, and the wonderful sweet briar, which covered the porchand framed all the windows filling the open rooms in summer time withthe airs of Paradise. On all these lovely things the old Dutchman hadstamped his memory, so that, even to the third generation, he wasremembered with an affection, that every springtime renewed. 

One afternoon in April, 1791, two men were standing talking opposite tothe entrance gates of this pleasant place. They were Captain Joris VanHeemskirk, a member of the Congress then sitting in Federal Hall, BroadStreet, and Jacobus Van Ariens, a wealthy citizen, and a deacon in theDutch Church. Van Heemskirk had helped to free his own country and wasnow eager to force the centuries and abolish all monarchies. Consequently, he believed in France; the tragedies she had been enactingin the holy name of Liberty, though they had saddened, had, hitherto, not discouraged him. He only pitied the more men who were trying to workout their social salvation, without faith in either God or man. But thenews received that morning had almost killed his hopes for the spread ofrepublican ideas in Europe, "Van Ariens, " he said warmly, "this treatment of King Louis and hisfamily is hardly to be believed. It is too much, and too far. If KingGeorge had been our prisoner we should have behaved towards him withhumanity. After this, no one can foresee what may happen in France. "

"That is the truth, my friend, " answered Van Ariens. "The good Dominethinks that any one who can do so might also understand the Revelations. The French have gone mad. They are tigers, sir, and I care not whethertigers walk on four feet or on two. WE won our freedom withoutmassacres. "

"WE had Washington and Franklin, and other good and wise leaders whofeared God and loved men. "

"So I said to the Count de Moustier but one hour ago. But I did notspeak to him of the Almighty, because he is an atheist. Yet if we wereprudent and merciful it was because we are religious. When men areirreligious, the Lord forsakes them; and if bloodshed and bankruptcyfollow it is not to be wondered at. "

"That is true, Van Ariens; and it is also the policy of England to letFrance destroy herself. " "Well, then, if France likes the policy ofEngland, it is her own affair. But I am angry at France; she has stabbedLiberty in Europe for one thousand years. A French Republic! Bah! Franceis yet fit for nothing but a despotism. I wish the Assembly had morecontrol--"

"The Assembly!" cried Van Heemskirk scornfully. "I wish that Catherineof Russia were now Queen of France in the place of that poor MarieAntoinette. Catherine would make Frenchmen write a different page inhistory. As to Paris, I think, then, the devil never sowed a millioncrimes in more fruitful ground. "

"Look now, Captain, I am but a tanner and currier, as you know, but Ihave had experiences; and I do not believe in the future of a people whoare without a God and without a religion. "

"Well, so it is, Van Ariens. I will now be silent, and wait for theecho; but I fear that God has not yet said 'Let there be peace. ' I sawyou last night at Mr. Hamilton's with your son and daughter. You made anoble entrance. "

"Well, then, the truth is the truth. My Arenta is worth looking at; andas for Rem, he was not made in a day. There are generations of Zealandsailors behind him; and, to be sure, you may see the ocean in his greyeyes and fresh open face. God is good, who gives us boys and girls tosit so near our hearts. "

"And such a fair, free city for a home!" said Van Heemskirk as he lookedup and down the sunshiny street. New York is not perfect, but we loveher. Right or wrong, we love her; just as we love our mother, and ourlittle children. "

"That, also, is what the Domine says, " answered Van Ariens; "and yet, helikes not that New York favours the French so much. When Liberty has noGod, and no Sabbath day, and no heaven, and no hell, the Domine is notin favour of Liberty. He is uneasy for the country, and for his church;and if he could take his whole flock to heaven at once, that wouldplease him most of all. "

"He is a good man. With you, last night, was a little maid--a greatbeauty I thought her--but I knew her not. Is she then a stranger?"

"A stranger! Come, come! The little one is a very child of New York. Sheis the daughter of Dr. Moran--Dr. John, as we all call him. "

"Well, look now, I thought in her face there was something that went tomy heart and memory. "

"And, as you know, that is his house across the street from us, and itwas his father's house, and his grandfather's house; and before that, the Morans lived in Winckle Street; and before that, in the Lady'sValley; so, then, when Van Clyffe built this house for them, they onlycame back to their first home. Yes, it is so. The Morans have seen thebirth of this city. Who, then, can be less of a stranger in it than thelittle beauty, Cornelia?"

"As you say, Van Ariens. "

"And yet, in one way, she is a stranger. Such a little one she was, whenthe coming of the English sent the family apart and away. To the armywent the Doctor, and there he stayed, till the war was over. Mrs. Morantook her child, and went to her father's home in Philadelphia. Whenthose redcoats went away forever from New York, the Morans came backhere, but the little girl they left in the school at Bethlehem, wherethose good Moravian Sisters have made her so sweet as themselves; sopure! so honest-hearted! so clever! It was only last month she came backto New York, and few people have seen her; and yet this is the truth--she is the sweetest maid in Maiden Lane; though up this side, and downthat side, are some beauties--the daughters of Peter Sylvester; and ofJacob Beckley; and of Claes Vandolsom. Oh, yes! and many others. I speaknot of my Arenta. But look now! It is the little maid herself, that iscoming down the street. "

"And it is my grandson who is at her side. The rascal! He ought now tobe reading his law books in Mr. Hamilton's office. But what will you?The race of young men with old heads on their shoulders is not yet born--a God's mercy it is not!"

"We also have been young, Van Heemskirk. "

"I forget not, my friend. My Joris sees not me, and I will not see him. "Then the two old men were silent, but their eyes were fixed on the youthand maiden, who were slowly advancing towards them; the sun's westeringrays making a kind of glory for them to walk in. 

She might have stepped out of the folded leaves of a rosebud, so lovelywas her face, framed in its dark curls, and shaded by a gypsy bonnet ofstraw tied under her chin with primrose-coloured ribbons. Her dress wasof some soft, green material; and she carried in her hand a bunch ofdaffodils. She was small, but exquisitely formed, and she walked withfearlessness and distinction Yet there was around her an angelicgravity, and that indefinable air of solitude, which she had broughtfrom innocent studies and long seclusion from the tumult and follies oflife. 

Of all this charming womanhood the young man at her side was profoundlyconscious. He was the gallant gentleman of his day, hardly touching thetips of her fingers, but quite ready to fall on his knees before her. Atall, sunbrowned, military-looking young man, as handsome as a Greekgod, with eyes of heroic form; lustrous, and richly fringed; and abeautiful mouth, at once sensitive and seductive. He was also veryfinely dressed, in the best and highest mode; and he wore his sword asif it were a part of himself. It was no more in his way than if it werehis right arm. Indeed, all his movements were full of confidence andease; and yet it was the vivacity, vitality, and ready response of hisface that was most attractive. 

His wonderful eyes were bent upon the maid at his side; he saw no otherearthly thing. With a respectful eagerness, full of admiration, hetalked to her; and she answered his words--whatever they were--with asmile that might have moved mountains. They passed the two old menwithout any consciousness of their presence, and Van Heemskirk smiled, and then sighed, and then said softly--

"So much youth, and beauty, and happiness! It is a benediction to haveseen it! I shall not reprove Joris at this time. But now I must go backto Federal Hall; the question of the Capital makes me very anxious. Every man of standing must feel so. "

"And I must go to my tan pits, for it is the eye of the master thatmakes the good servant. You will vote for New York, Van Heemskirk?--thatis a question I need not to ask?"

"Where else should the capital of our nation be? I think thatPhiladelphia has great presumptions to propose herself against NewYork:--this beautiful city between the two rivers, with the AtlanticOcean at her feet!"

"You say what is true, Van Heemskirk. God has made New York the capital, and the capital she will be; and no man can prevent it. It was onlyyesterday that Senator Greyson from Virginia told me that the SouthernStates are against Philadelphia. She is very troublesome to the SouthernStates, day by day dogging them with her schemes for emancipation. It isthe way to make us unfriends. "

"I think this, Van Ariens: Philadelphia may win the vote at this time;she has the numbers, and she has 'persuasions'; but look you! NEW YORKHAS THE SHIPS AND THE COMMERCE, AND THE SEA WILL CROWN HER! 'The harvestof the rivers is her revenue; and she is the mart of nations. ' That iswhat Domine Kunz said in the House this morning, and you may find thewords in the prophecy of Isaiah, the twenty-third chapter. "

During this conversation they had forgotten all else, and when theireyes turned to the Moran house the vision of youth and beauty haddissolved. Van Heemskirk's grandson, Lieutenant Hyde, was hasteningtowards Broadway; and the lovely Cornelia Moran was sauntering up thegarden of her home, stooping occasionally to examine the pearl-powderedauriculas or to twine around its support some vine, straggling out ofits proper place. 

Then Van Ariens hurried down to his tanning pits in the swamp; and VanHeemskirk went thoughtfully to Broad Street; walking slowly, with hisleft arm laid across his back, and his broad, calm countenance beamingwith that triumph which he foresaw for the city he loved. When hereached Federal Hall, he stood a minute in the doorway; and withinspired eyes looked at the splendid, moving picture; then he walkedproudly toward the Hall of Representatives, saying to himself, withsilent exultation as he went:

"The Seat of Government! Let who will, have it; New York is the CrowningCity. Her merchants shall be princes, her traffickers the honourable ofthe earth; the harvest of her rivers shall be her royal revenue, and themarts of all nations shall be in her streets. "

CHAPTER II

THIS IS THE WAY OF LOVE

Cornelia lingered in the garden, because she had suddenly, and as yetunconsciously, entered into that tender mystery, so common and sosovereign, which we call Love. In Hyde's presence she had been suffusedwith a bewildering, profound emotion, which had fallen on her as thegentle showers fall, to make the flowers of spring. A shy happiness, atrembling delightful feeling never known before, filled her heart. Thishandsome youth, whom she had only seen twice, and in the most formalmanner, affected her as no other mortal had ever done. She was a littleafraid; something, she knew not what, of mystery and danger and delight, was between them; and she did not feel that she could speak of it. Itseemed, indeed, as if she would need a special language to do so. 

"I have met him but twice, " she thought; "and it is as if I had a new, strange, exquisite life. Ought I tell my mother? But how can I? I haveno words to explain--I do not understand--I thought it would break myheart to leave the good Sisters and my studies, and the days so calm andholy; and now--I do not even wish to go back. Sister Langaard told me itwould be so if I let the world come into my soul--Alas! if I should begrowing wicked!"

The thought made her start; she hastened her steps towards the largeentrance door, and as she approached it a negro in a fine livery of blueand white threw the door wide open for her. Answering his bow with akind word, she turned quickly out of the hall, into a parlour full ofsunshine. A lady sat there hemstitching a damask napkin; a lady ofdainty plainness, with a face full of graven experiences and mellowedcharacter. Purity was the first, and the last, impression she gave. Andwhen her eyes were dropped this idea was emphasized by their beautifullids; for nowhere is the flesh so divine as in the eyelids. And AvaMoran's eyelids were full of holy secrets; they gave the impression of aspiritual background which was not seen, but which could be felt. AsCornelia entered she looked up with a smile, and said, as she slightlyraised her work, "it is the last of the dozen, Cornelia. "

"You make me ashamed of my idleness, mother. Have I been a long timeaway?"

"Longer than was unnecessary, I think. "

"I went to Embree's for the linen thread, and he had just opened someEnglish gauzes and lute-strings. Mrs. Willets was choosing a piece for anew gown, for she is to dine with the President next week, and she wasso polite as to ask my opinion about the goods. Afterwards, I walked toWall Street with her; and coming back I met, on Broadway, LieutenantHyde--and he gave me these flowers--they came from Prince's nurserygardens--and, then, he walked home with me. Was it wrong? I mean was itpolite--I mean the proper thing to permit? I knew not how to preventit. "

"How often have you met Lieutenant Hyde?"

"I met him for the first time last night. He was at the Sylvesters', andI danced three times with him. "

"That was too often. "

"He talked with father, and father did not oppose my dancing. "

"Your father thinks of nothing, now, but the Capital question. I daresay, after he had asked Lieutenant Hyde how he felt on that subject henever thought of the young man again. And pray what did Lieutenant Hydesay to you this afternoon?"

"He gave me the flowers, and he told me about a beautiful opera, ofwhich I have never before heard. It is called Figaro. He says, inEurope, nothing is played, or sung, or whistled, but--Figaro; thatnobody goes to any opera but--Figaro; and that I do not know the mostcharming music in the world if I do not know--Figaro. He askedpermission to bring me some of the airs to-night, and I said somecivilities. I think they meant 'Yes. ' Did I do wrong, mother?"

"I will say 'no, ' my dear; as you have given the invitation. But toprevent an appearance of too exclusive intimacy, write to Arenta, andask her and Rem to take tea with us. Balthazar will carry the note atonce. "

"Mother, Arenta has bought a blue lute string. Shall I not also have anew gown? The gauzes are very sweet and genteel, and I think Mrs. Jaywill not forget to ask me to her dance next week. Mr. Jefferson is sureto be there, and I wish to walk a minuet with him. "

"Your father does not approve of Mr. Jefferson. He has not spoken to himsince his return from France. He goes too far--IN HIS WORDS. "

"But all the ladies of distinction are proud to be seen in his company;and pray what is there against him?"

"Only his politics, Cornelia. I think New York has gone mad on thatsubject. Madame Barens will not speak to her son, because he is aFederalist; and Madame Lefferts will not speak to HER son, because he isNOT a Federalist. Mr. Jefferson, also, is thought to favour Philadelphiafor the capital; and your father is as hot on this subject as he was onthe Constitution. My dear, you will find that society is torn in two bypolitics. "

"But women have nothing to do with politics. "

"They have everything to do with politics. They always have had. You arenot now in a Moravian school, Cornelia; and Bethlehem is not New York. The two places look at life from different standpoints. "

"Then, as I am to live in New York, why was I sent to Bethlehem?"

"You were sent to Bethlehem to learn how to live in New York, --or in anyother place. Where have you seen Mr. Jefferson?"

"I saw him this afternoon, in Cedar Street. He wore his red coat andbreeches; and it was then I formed the audacious intention of dancingwith him. I told Mrs. Willets of it; and she said, 'Mr. Jeffersoncarried the Declaration on his shoulders, and would not dare to bow;'and then with such a queer little laugh she asked me 'if his redbreeches did not make me think of the guillotine?' I do not think Mrs. Willets likes Mr. Jefferson very much; but, all the same, I wish todance once with him. I think it will be something to talk about when Iam an old woman. "

"My dear one, that is so far off. Go now, and write to Arenta. Young Mr. Hyde and Figaro will doubtless bring her here. "

"I hope so; for Arenta has an agreeableness that fits every occasion. "She had been folding up, with deliberate neatness, the strings of herbonnet, as she talked, and she rose with these words and went out of theparlour; but she went slowly, with a kind of hesitation, as if somethinghad been left unsaid. 

About six o'clock Arenta Van Ariens made a personal response to herfriend's message. She was all excitement and expectation. "What adelightful surprise!" she cried. "To-day has been a day to be praised. It has ticked itself away to wonders and astonishments. Who do you thinkcalled on me this afternoon?"

"Tell me plainly, Arenta. I never could guess for an answer. "

"No less a person than Madame Kippon. Gertrude Kippon is going to bemarried! She is going to marry a French count! And madame is besideherself with the great alliance. "

"I heard my father say that Madame Kippon had 'the French disease' in adangerous form. "

"Indeed, that is certain. She has put the Sabbath day out of hercalendar; and her daughter's marriage is to be a legal one only. Iwonder what good Dr. Kunz will say to that! As for me, I lost allpatience with madame's rigmarole of philosophies--for I am not inclinedto philosophy--and indeed I had some difficulty to keep my temper; youknow that it is occasionally quite unmanageable. "

Cornelia smiled understandingly, and answered with a smile, "I hope, however, that you did not put her to death, Arenta. "

"I have, at least, buried her, as far as I am concerned. And my fathersays I am not to go to the marriage; that I am not even to drink a cupof tea with her again. If my father had been at home--or even Rem--shewould not have left our house with all her colours flying; but I amgood-natured, I have no tongue worth speaking of. "

"Come, come, Arenta! I shall be indeed astonished if you did not say oneor two provoking words. "

"I said only three, Cornelia. When madame finally declared--'she reallymust go home, ' I did answer, as sweetly as possible, 'Thank you, madame!' That was something I could say with becoming politeness. "

Cornelia was tying the scarlet ribbon which held back her flowing hair, but she turned and looked at Arenta, and asked, "Did madame boast anyafterwards?"

"No; she went away very modestly, and I was not sorry to see the angrysurprise on her face. Gertrude Kippon a countess! Only imagine it! Well, then, I have no doubt the Frenchman will make of Gertrude--whatever canbe made of her. "

"Our drawing-rooms, and even our streets, are full of titles, " saidCornelia; "I think it is a distinction to be plain master and mistress. "

"That is the truth; even this handsome dandy, Joris Hyde, is alieutenant. "

"He was in the field two years. He told me so this afternoon. I daresay, he has earned his title, even if he is a lieutenant. "

"Don't be so highty-tighty, Cornelia. I have no objections to militarytitles. They mean something; for they at least imply, that a man iswilling to fight if his country will find him a quarrel to fight in. Infact, I rather lean to official titles of every kind. "

"I have not thought of them at all. "

"But I have. They affect me like the feathers in a cock's tail; ofcourse the bird would be as good without them, but fancy him!" andArenta laughed mirthfully at her supposition. "As for women, " shecontinued, "lady, or countess, or Marquise, what an air it gives! Itfinishes a woman like a lace ruff round her neck. Every woman ought tohave a title--I mean every woman of respectability. I have a fancy to bea marquise, and Aunt Jacobus says I look Frenchy enough. I have heardthat there is a title in the Hyde family. I must ask Aunt Jacobus. Sheknows everything about everybody. Lieutenant Hyde! I do wonder what heis coming for!"

The words dropped slowly, one by one, from her lips; and with a kind offateful import; but neither of the girls divined the significance of theinquiry. Both were too intent on those last little touches to thetoilet, which make its effectiveness, to take into considerationreflections without form; and probably, at that time, without personalintention. 

Then Arenta, having arranged her ringlets, tied her sash, and hersandals, began to talk of her own affairs; for she was a young lady whofound it impossible to be sufficient for herself. There had been troublewith the slaves in the Van Ariens' household, and she told Corneliaevery particular. Also, she had VERY NEAR had an offer of marriage fromGeorge Van Berckel; and she went into explanations about her diplomaciesin avoiding it. 

"Poor George!" she sighed, and then, looking up, was a trifle dismayedat the expression upon Cornelia's face. For Cornelia was as reticent, asArenta was garrulous; and the girls were incomprehensible to each otherin their deepest natures, though, superficially, they were much on thesame plane, and really thought themselves to be distinctly sympatheticfriends. 

"Why do you look so strangely at me, Cornelia?" asked Arenta. "Am I notproperly dressed?"

"You are perfectly dressed, Arenta. Women as fair as you are, knowinstinctively how to dress. " And then Arenta stood up before the mirrorand put her hand upon Cornelia's shoulder, and they both looked at thereflection in it. 

A very pretty reflection it was!--a slender girl with a round, fairface, and a long, white throat, and sloping shoulders. Her pale brownhair fell in ripples and curls around her until they touched a robe ofheavenly blue, and half hid a singular necklace of large pearls:--pearlstaken from some Spanish ship and strung in old Zierikzee, and worn forcenturies by the maids and dames of the house of Van Ariens. 

"It is the necklace!" said Cornelia after a pause, "It is the pearlnecklace, which gives you such an air of mystery and romance, andchanges you from an everyday maiden into an old-time princess. "

"No doubt, it is the necklace, " answered Arenta. "It is my AuntAngelica's, but she permits me to wear it. When she was young, shecalled every pearl after one of her lovers; and she had a lover forevery pearl. She was near to forty years old when she married; and shehad many lovers, even then. "

"It would have been better if she had married before she was near toforty years old--that is, if she had taken a good husband. "

"Perhaps that; but good husbands come not on every day in the week. Ihave three beads named already--one for George Van Berckel--one for FredDe Lancey--and one for Willie Nichols. What do you think of that?"

"I think, if you copy your Aunt Angelica, you will not marry any of yourlovers till you are forty years old. Come, let us go downstairs. "

She spoke a little peremptorily--indeed, she was in the habit, quiteunconsciously of using this tone with her companion, consequently it wasnot noticed by her. And it was further remarkable, that the girls didnot walk down the broad stairs together, but Cornelia went first, andArenta followed her. There was no intention or consideration in thisprocedure; it was the natural expression of underlying qualities, as yetnot realized. 

Cornelia's self-contained, independent nature was further revealed bythe erect dignity of her carriage down the centre of the stairway, onehand slightly lifting her silk robe, the other laid against thedaffodils at her breast. Her face was happy and serene, her steps light, and without hesitation or hurry. Arenta was a little behind her friend. She stepped idly and irresolutely, with one hand slipping along thebaluster, and the other restlessly busy with her curls, her ribbons, thelace that partially hid her bosom, and the pearls that made a moonlightradiance on her snowy throat. At the foot of the staircase Cornelia hadto wait for her, and they went into the parlour together. 

Doctor Moran, Rem Van Ariens, and Lieutenant Hyde were present. Thegirls had a momentary glance at the latter ere he assumed the manner hethought suitable for youth and beauty. He was talking seriously to theDoctor and playing with an ivory paper knife as he did so, but whateverremark he was making he cut it in two, and stood up, pleased andexpectant, to receive Beauty so fresh and so conspicuous. 

He was handsomely dressed in a dark-blue velvet coat, silver-laced, along white satin vest and black satin breeches. His hair was thrownbackwards and tied with the customary black ribbon, and his linen andlaces were of the finest quality. He met Cornelia as he might have met aprincess; and he flashed into Arenta's eyes a glance of admiration whichturned her senses upside down, and made her feel, for a moment or two, as if she could hardly breathe. 

Upon Arenta's brother he had not produced a pleasant impression. Withoutintention, he had treated young Van Ariens with that negative politenesswhich dashes a sensitive man and makes him resentfully conscious that hehas been rendered incapable of doing himself justice. And Rem couldneither define the sense of humiliation he felt, nor yet ruffle thecourteous urbanity of Hyde; though he tried in various ways to introducesome conversation which would afford him the pleasure of contradiction. Equally he failed to consider that his barely veiled antagonismcompelled from the Doctor, and even from Cornelia and Arenta, attentionshe might not otherwise have received. The Doctor was indeed much annoyedthat Rem did not better respect the position of guest; while Mrs. Moranwas keenly sensitive to the false note in the evening's harmony, andanxious to atone for it by many little extra courtesies. So Hyde easilybecame the hero of the hour; he was permitted to teach the girls thecharming old-world step of the Pas de Quatre, and afterwards to singwith them merry airs from Figaro, and sentimental airs from Lodoiska, and to make Rem's heart burn with anger at the expression he threw intothe famous ballad "My Heart and Lute" which the trio sang twice overwith great feeling. 

Fortunately, some of Doctor Moran's neighbours called early in theevening. Then whist parties were formed; and while the tables were beingarranged Cornelia found an opportunity to reason with Rem. "I nevercould have believed you would behave so unlike yourself, " she said; andRem answered bluntly--"That Englishman has insulted me ever since hecame into the room. "

"He is not an Englishman, " said Cornelia. 

"His father is an Englishman, and the man himself was born in England. The way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me, is insulting. "

"I have seen nothing but courtesy to you, Rem. "

"You have not the key to his impertinences. To-morrow, I will tell yousomething about Lieutenant Hyde. "

"I shall not permit you to talk evil of him. I have no wish to hear illreports about my acquaintances, Their behaviour is their own affair; atany rate, it is not mine. Be good-tempered, Rem; you are to be mypartner, and we must win in every game. "

But though Cornelia was all sweetness and graciousness; though Remplayed well, and Lieutenant Hyde played badly; though Rem had thesatisfaction of watching Hyde depart in his chair, while he stood with aconfident friendship by Cornelia's side, he was not satisfied. There wasan air of weariness and constraint in the room, and the little stir ofdeparting visitors did not hide it. Doctor Moran had been at an unusualsocial tension; he was tired, and not pleased at Rem for keeping him onthe watch. Cornelia was silent. Rem then approached his sister and said, "it is time to go home. " Arenta looked at her friend; she expected to beasked to remain, and she was offended when Cornelia did not give her theinvitation. 

On the contrary, Cornelia went with her for her cloak and bonnet, andsaid not a word as they trod the long stairway but "Oh dear! How warmthe evening is!"

"I expected you would ask me to stay with you, Cornelia. " Arenta wastying her bonnet strings as she made this remark, and her fingerstrembled, and her voice was full of hurt feeling. 

"Rem behaved so badly, Arenta. "

"I think that is not so. Did I also behave badly?"

"You were charming every moment of the evening; but Rem was on the pointof quarrelling with Lieutenant Hyde. You must have seen it. In myfather's house, this was not proper. "

"I never saw Rem behave badly in my life. Suppose he does quarrel withthat dandy Englishman, Rem would not get the worst of it. I have no fearfor my brother Rem! No, indeed!"

"Bulk does not stand for much in a sword game. "

"Do you mean they might fight a duel?"

"I think it is best for you to go home with Rem. Otherwise, he might, inhis present temper, find himself near Becker's; and if a man isquarrelsome he may always get principals and seconds there. You havetold me this yourself. In the morning Rem will, I hope, be reasonable. "

"I thought you and I would talk things over to-night. I like to talkover a new pleasure. "

"Dear Arenta, we shall have so much more time, to-morrow. Come to-morrow. "

But Arenta was not pleased. She left her friend with an air of repressedinjury, and afterwards made little remarks about Cornelia to herbrother, which exactly fitted his sense of wounded pride. Indeed, theystood a few minutes in the Van Ariens' parlour to exchange theiropinions still further--

"I think Cornelia was jealous of me, Rem. That, in plain Dutch, is whatit all means. Does she imagine that I desire the attentions of a man whois neither an American nor a Dutchman? I do not. I speak the truthalways, for I love the truth. "

"Cornelia does desire them; I think that--and it makes me wretched. "

"Oh, indeed, it is plain to see that she has fallen in love with thatblack-eyed man of many songs and dances. Well, then, we must admit thathe danced to perfection. One may dislike the creature, and yet tell thetruth. "

"Do you truly believe that Cornelia is in love with him?"

"Rem, there are things a woman observes. Cornelia is changed to-night. She did not wish me to stay and talk about this man Hyde--she preferredthinking about him--such reveries are suspicious. I have felt thesymptom. But, however, I may be wrong. Perhaps Cornelia was angry atHyde, and anxious about you--Do you think that?"

Rem would not admit any such explanation; and, indeed, Arenta only madesuch suppositions to render more poignant those entirely contrary. 

"Ever since she was a little girl, twelve, eleven years old, I haveloved her, " said Rem; "and she knows it. "

"She knows it; that is so. When I was at Bethlehem, I read her all yourletters; and many a time you spoke in them of her as your 'little wife. 'To be sure, it was a joke; but she understood that you, at least, putyour heart in it. Girls do not need to have such things explained. Come, come, we must go to our rooms; for that is our father I hear movingabout. In a few minutes he will be angry, and then--"

She did not finish the sentence; there was no necessity; Rem knew whatunpleasantness the threat implied, and he slipped off his shoes andstole quietly upstairs. Arenta was not disinclined to a few words if herfather wished them; so she did not hurry, though the great Flemish clockon the stair-landing chimed eleven as she entered her room. It was anextraordinarily late hour, but she only smiled, as she struck her prettyfore-fingers together in time with it. She was not disposed to curtailthe day; it was her method, always, to take the full flavour of everyevent that was not disagreeable. 

"And, after all, " she mused, "the evening was a possibility. It was adoor on the latch--I may push it open and go in--who can tell? I saw howamazed he was at my beauty when I first entered the parlour--and he isbut a man--and a young man who likes his own way--so much is evident. "She was meanwhile unclasping her pearl necklace, and at this point sheheld it in her hands taking the fourth bead between her fingers, andsmiled speculatively. 

Then she heard her brother moving about the floor of the room above her, and a shadow darkened her face. She had strong family affections, andshe was angry that Rem should be troubled by any man or woman, living:

"I have always thought Cornelia a very saint, " she muttered; "but Loveis the great revealer. I wonder if she is in love--to tell the truth, she was past finding out. I cannot say that I saw the least sign of it--and between me and myself, Rem was unreasonable; however, I am notpleased that Rem felt himself to be badly used. "

It was to this touch of resentment in her drifting thoughts that sheperformed her last duties. She did not hurry them. "Very soon there willbe the noise of chairmen and carriages to disturb me, " she thought; "andI may as well think a little, and put my things away. "

So she folded each dainty blue morocco slipper in its separate piece offine paper, and straightened out her ribbons, and wrapped her pale bluerobe in its holland covering, and put every comb and pin in its properplace, all the time treading as softly as a mouse. And by and by thestreet was dark and still, and her room in the most perfect order. Thesethings gave her the comfort of a good conscience; and she said herprayers, and fell calmly asleep, to the flattering thought, "I would notmuch wonder if, at this moment, Lieutenant Hyde is thinking about me. "

In reality, Lieutenant Hyde was at that moment in the Belvedere Club, singing the Marseillaise, and listening to a very inflammatory speechfrom the French Minister. But a couple of hours later, Arenta's "wonder"would have touched the truth. He was then alone, and very ill satisfied;for, after some restless reflections, he said impatiently--

"I have again made a fool of myself. I have now all kinds of unpleasantfeelings; and when I left that good Doctor's house I was well satisfied. His daughter is an angel. I praise myself for finding that out. She mademe believe in all goodness; yes, even in patriotism! I, that have seenit sold a dozen times! Oh, how divinely shy and proud she is! I couldnot get her one step beyond the first civilities; even my eyes failed meto-night--her calm glances killed their fire--and she barely touched myhand, though I offered it with a respectful ardour, she must haveunderstood:"--then he looked admiringly at the long, white hand andthoroughbred wrist which lay idly on the velvet cushion of his armchair;an exquisite ruffle of lace just touched it, and his eyes wandered fromthe ruffle to the velvet and silver embroidery of his coat; and thedelicate laced lawn of his cravat. 

"I have the reputation of beauty, " he continued; "and I am perfectlydressed, and yet--yet--this little Beauty seemed unconscious of myadvantages. But I cannot accept failure in this case. The girl isunparagoned. I am in love with her; sincerely in love. She fills mythoughts, and has done so, ever since I first saw her. It is a puredelight to think of her. "

Then he rose, threw off his velvet and lace, and designedly let histhoughts turn to Arenta. "She is pretty beyond all prettiness, " he saidsoftly as he moved about, "She dances well, talks from hand to mouth, and she gave me one sweet glance; and I think if she has gone so far--she might go further. " At this reflection he smiled again, and lifting adecanter slowly poured into a goblet some amber-coloured sherry; saying--

"I dare not yet drink to the unapproachable Cornelia; but I may at leastpour the wine to the blue-eyed goddess, with the pearl necklace, and thegolden hair;" and as he lifted the glass, a memory from some pastmirthful hour came into his remembrance; and he began to hum a strain ofthe song it brought to his mind--

 "Let the toast pass, Drink to the lass I'll warrant, she'll prove an excuse for the glass. "

It was remarkable that he did not take Arenta's brother into hisspeculations at all, and yet Rem Van Ariens was at that very hourchafing restlessly and sleeplessly under insults he conceived himself tohave received, in such fashion and under such circumstances as madereprisal impossible. In reality, however, Van Ariens had not beenintentionally wounded by Hyde. The situation was the natural result ofincipient jealousy and sensitive pride on Rem's part; and of that calmindifference and complaisance on Hyde's part, which appeared tacitly toassert its own superiority and expect its recognition as a matter ofcourse. Indeed, at their introduction, Rem had affected Hyde ratherpleasantly; and when the young Dutch gentleman's opposition becameevident, Hyde had simply ignored it. For as yet the thought of Rem as arival had not entered his mind. 

But this is the way of Love; its filmiest threads easily spin themselvesfurther; and a man once entangled is bound by that unseen chain whichlinks the soul to its destiny. 

CHAPTER III

HYDE AND ARENTA

Seldom is Love ushered into any life with any pomp of circumstance orceremony; there is no overture to our opera, no prologue to our play, and the most momentous meetings occur as if by mere accident. A frienddelayed Cornelia a while on the street; and turning, she met Hyde faceto face; a moment more, or less, and the meeting had not been. Ah, butsome Power had set that moment for their meeting, and the delay had beenintended, and the consequences foreseen!

In a dim kind of way Hyde realized this fact as he sat the next day withan open book before him. He was not reading it; he was thinking ofCornelia--of her pure, fresh beauty; and of that adorable air ofreserve, which enhanced, even while it veiled her charms. "For her loveI could resign all adventures and prison myself in a law book, " he said, "I could forget all other beauties; in a word, I could marry, and livein the country. Oh how exquisite she is! I lose my speech when I thinkof her!"

Then he closed his book with impatience, and went to Prince's and boughta little rush basket filled with sweet violets. Into their midst heslipped his visiting card, and saw the boy on his way with the flowersto Cornelia ere he was satisfied they would reach her quickly enough. This finished, he began to consider what he should do with his day. Study was impossible; and he could think of nothing that was possible. "It is the most miserable thing, " he muttered, "to be in love, unlessyou can go to the adored one, every hour, and tell her so, "--thenturning aimlessly into Pearl Street, he saw Cornelia. 

She was dressed only in a little morning gown of Indian chintz, but insuch simple toilet had still more distinctively that air of youthfulmodesty which he had found so charmingly tantalizing. He hasted to herside. He blessed his good angel for sending him such an enchantingsurprise. He said the most extravagant things, in the most truthfulmanner, as he watched the blushes of pleasure come and go on her lovelyface, and saw by glimpses, under the veiling eyelids, that tender lightthat never was on sea or land, but only on a woman's face when her soulis awakening to Love. 

Cornelia was going to the "Universal Store" of Gerardus Duyckinck, andHyde begged to go with her. He said he was used to shopping; that healways went with his mother, and with Lady Christina Griffin, and Mrs. White, and many others; that he had good taste, and could tell the valueof laces, and knew how to choose a piece of silk, or match the crewelsfor her embroidery; and, indeed, pleaded his case so merrily, that therewas no refusing his offer. And how it happened lovers can tell, butafter the shopping was finished they found themselves walking towardsthe Battery with the fresh sea wind, and the bright sunshine and the joyof each other's presence all around them. 

"Such a miraculous piece of happiness!" the young fellow ejaculated; andhis joy was so evident that Cornelia could not bear to spoil it with anyreluctances, or with half-way graciousness. She fell into his joyousmood, and as star to star vibrates light, so his soul touched her soul, through some finer element than ordinary life is conscious of. Adelightsome gladness was between them, and their words had such heartgaiety, that they seemed to dance as they spoke; while the wind blowingCornelia's curls, and scarf, and drapery, was like a merry playfellow. 

Now Love has always something in it of the sea; and the murmur of thetide against the pier, the hoarse voices of the sailor men, the scent ofthe salt water, and all the occult unrecognized, but keenly felt life ofthe ocean, were ministers to their love, and forever and ever blended inthe heart and memory of the youth and maid who had set their early dreamof each other to its potent witchery. Time went swiftly, and suddenlyCornelia remembered that she was subject to hours and minutes, A littlefear came into her heart, and closed it, and she said, with a troubledair, "My mother will be anxious. I had forgotten. I must go home. " Sothey turned northward again, and Cornelia was silent, and the ardour ofher lover was a little chilled; but yet never before had Cornelia heardsimple conversation which seemed so eloquent, and so full of meanings--only, now and then, a few brief words; but oh! what long, long thoughts, they carried with them!

At the gates of her home they stood a moment, and there Hyde touched herhand, and said, "I have never, in all my life, been so happy. It hasbeen a walk beyond hope, and beyond expression!" And she lifted herface, and the smile on her lips and the light in her eyes answered him. Then the great white door shut her from his sight, and he walked rapidlyaway, saying to his impetuous steps--

"An enchanting creature! An adorable girl! I have given her my heart;and lost, is lost; and gone, is gone forever. That I am sure of. But, bySt. George! every man has his fate, and I rejoice that mine is so sweetand fair! so sweet! so sweet! so fair!"

Cornelia trembled as she opened the parlour door, she feared to lookinto her mother's face, but it was as serene as usual, and she met herdaughter's glance with one of infinite affection and some littleexpectancy. This was a critical moment, and Cornelia hesitated slightly. Some little false sprite put a ready excuse into her heart, but shebanished it at once, and with the courage of one who fears lest they arenot truthful enough, she said with a blunt directness which put allsubterfuge out of the question--

"Mother, I have been a long time, but I met Lieutenant Hyde, and wewalked down to the Battery; and I think I have stayed beyond the hour Iought to have stayed--but the weather was so delightful. "

"The weather is very delightful, and Lieutenant Hyde is very polite. Didhe speak of the violets he sent you?"

"I suppose he forgot them. Ah, there they are! How beautiful! Howfragrant! I will give them to you, mother. "

"They are your own, my dear. I would not give them away. "

Then Cornelia lifted them, and shyly buried her face in their beauty andsweetness; and afterwards took the card in her hand and read "LieutenantGeorge Hyde. " "But, mother, " she said, "Arenta called him Joris. "

"Joris is George, my dear. "

"Certainly, I had forgotten. Joris is the Dutch, George is the Englishform. I think I like George better. "

"As you have neither right nor occasion to call him by either name, itis of no consequence Take away your flowers and put them in water--theyoung man is very extravagant, I think. Do you know that it is quitenoon, and your father will be home in a little while?"

And there was such kind intent, such a divining sympathy in the simplewords, that Cornelia's heart grew warm with pleasure; and she felt thather mother understood, and did not much blame her. At the same time shewas glad to escape all questioning, and with the violets pressed to herheart, and her shining eyes dropped to them, she went with some haste toher room. There she kissed the flowers, one by one, as she put them inthe refreshing water; and then, forgetting all else, sat down andpermitted herself to enter the delicious land of Reverie. She let thethought of Hyde repossess her; and present again and again to herimagination his form, his face, his voice, and those long caressinglooks she had seen and felt, without seeming to be aware of them. 

A short time after Cornelia came home, Doctor Moran returned from hisprofessional visits. As he entered the room, his wife looked at him witha curious interest. In the first place, the tenor of her thoughts ledher to this observation. She wished to assure herself again that the manfor whom she had given up everything previously dear to her was worthyof such sacrifice. A momentary glance satisfied her. Nature had left theimpress of her nobility on his finely-formed forehead; nothing but truthand kindness looked from his candid eyes; and his manner, if a littledogmatic, had also an unmistakable air of that distinction which comesfrom long and honourable ancestry and a recognized position. He had alsothis morning an air of unusual solemnity, and on entering the room, hedrew his wife close to his heart and kissed her affectionately, a tokenof love he was not apt to give without thought, or under everycircumstance. 

"You are a little earlier to day, " she said. "I am glad of it. "

"I have had a morning full of feeling. There is no familiarity withDeath, however often you meet him. "

"And you have met Death this morning, I see that, John?"

"As soon as I went out, I heard of the death of Franklin. We have trulybeen expecting the news, but who can prepare for the final 'He is gone. 'Congress will wear mourning for two months, I hear, and all goodcitizens who can possibly do so will follow their example. The flags areat half-mast, and there is sorrow everywhere. "

"And yet, John, why?" asked Mrs. Moran. "Franklin has quite finished hiswork; and has also seen the fruit of all his labours. Not many men areso happy. I, for one, shall rejoice with him, and not weep for him. "

"You are right, Ava. I must now tell you that Elder Semple died thismorning. He has been long sick, but the end came suddenly at last. "

"The dear old man! He has been sick and sorrowful, ever since his wifedied. Were any of his sons present?"

"None of them. The two eldest have been long away. Neil was obliged toleave New York when the Act forbidding Tory lawyers to practice waspassed. But he was not quite alone, his old friend Joris Van Heemskirkwas with him to the last moment. The love of these old men for eachother was a very beautiful thing. "

"He was once rich. Did he lose everything in the war?"

"Very near all. His home was saved by Van Heemskirk, and he had a littlemoney 'enough to die wi'' he said one day to me; and then he continued, 'there's compensations, Doctor, in having naething to leave. My ladswill find no bone to quarrel over. ' I met a messenger coming for me thismorning, and when I went to his bedside, he said, with a pleasant smile, 'I'll be awa' in an hour or twa now, Doctor; and then I'll hae no mairworrying anent rebellion and democrats; I'll be under the dominion o'the King o' kings and His throned Powers and Principalities; and aftera' this weary voting, and confiscations, and guillotining, it will bePeace--Peace--Peace:'--and with that word on his lips, the 'flitting' ashe called it was accomplished. "

"There is nothing to mourn in such a death, John. "

"Indeed, no. It was just as he said 'a flitting. ' And it was strangethat, standing watching what he so fitly called the 'flitting, ' Ithought of some lines I have not consciously remembered for many years. They reflect only the old Greek spirit, with its calm acceptance ofdeath and its untroubled resignation, but they seemed to me veryapplicable to the elder's departure:

 Not otherwise to the hall of Hades dim He fares, than if some summer eventide A Message, not unlooked for, came to him; Bidding him rise up presently, and ride Some few hours' journey, to a friendly home. "

"There is nothing to fear in such a death. "

"Nothing at all. Last week when Cornelia and I passed his house, he wasleaning on the garden gate, and he spoke pleasantly to her and told hershe was a 'bonnie lassie. ' Where is Cornelia?"

"In her room. John, she went to Duyckinck's this morning for me, andGeorge Hyde met her again, and they took a walk together on the Battery. It was near the noon hour when she returned. "

"She told you about it?"

"Oh yes, and without inquiry. "

"Very good. I must look after that young fellow. " But he said the wordswithout much care, and Mrs. Moran was not satisfied. 

"Then you do not disapprove the meeting, John?" she asked. 

"Yes, I do. I disapprove of any young man meeting my daughter every timeshe goes out. Cornelia is too young for lovers, and it is not desirablethat she should have attentions from young men who have no intentions. Ido not want her to be what is called a belle. Certainly not. "

"But the young men do not think her too young to be loved. I can seethat Rem Van Ariens is very fond of her. "

"Rem is a very fine young man. If Cornelia was old enough to marry, Ishould make no objections to Rem. He has some money. He promises to be agood lawyer. I like the family. It is as pure Dutch as any in thecountry. There is no objection to Rem Van Ariens. "

"And George Hyde?"

"Has too many objectionable qualities to be worth considering. "

"Such as?"

"Well, Ava, I will only name one, and one for which he is notresponsible; but yet it would be insuperable, as far as I am concerned. His father is an Englishman of the most pronounced type, and this youngman is quite like him. I want no Englishman in my family. "

"My family are of English descent. "

"Thoroughly Americanized. They are longer in this country than theWashingtons. "

"There have been many Dutch marriages among the Morans. "

"That is a different thing. The Dutch, as a race, have every desirablequality. The English are natural despots. Rem was quite right lastnight. I saw and felt, as much as he did, the quiet but sovereignarrogance of young Hyde. His calm assumption of superiority was inreality insufferable. The young man's faults are racial; they are in theblood. Cornelia shall not have anything to do with him. Why do you speakof such disagreeable things, Ava?"

"It is well to look forward, John. "

"No. It is time enough to meet annoyances when they arrive. But this isone not even to be thought of--to tell the last truth, Ava, I dislikehis father, General Hyde, very much indeed. "

"Why?"

"I cannot tell you 'why. ' Yes, I will be honest and acknowledge that healways gives me a sense of hostility. He arrogates himself too much. When I was in the army, a good many were angry at General Washington, for making so close a friend of him--but Washington has much of the sameexclusive air. I hope it is no treason to say that much, for a good dealof dignity is permissible, even peremptory, when a man fills greatpositions. As for the Hydes, father and son, I would prefer to hear nomore about them. When the youth was my guest, I was civil to him; butArenta. You know that I have never seen her. "

"That is the truth. I had forgotten. Well, then, I went to her with thenews; and she rubbed her chin, and called to her man Govert, to get abow of crape and put it on the front door. 'It is moral, and proper, andrespectable, Arenta, ' she said, 'and I advise you to do the same. ' Butthen she laughed and added, 'Shall I tell you, niece, what I think ofthe great men I have met? They are disagreeable, conceited creatures;and ought, all of them, to have died before they were born; and for mypart, I am satisfied not to have had the fate to marry one of them. Asfor Benjamin Franklin, ' she continued, 'he was a particularly great man, and I am particularly grateful that I never saw him but once. I formedmy opinion of him then; for I only need to see a person once, to form anopinion--and he is dead! Well, then, every one dies at their own time. '"

"My father says Congress goes into mourning for him. "

"Does it?" asked Arenta, with indifference. "Aunt was beginning to tellme something about him when he was in France, but I just put a stop totalk like that, and said, 'Now, aunt, for a little of my own affairs. 'So I told her about George Berckel, and asked her if she thought I mightmarry George; and she answered, 'If you are tired of easy days, Arenta, go, and take a husband, ' After a while I spoke to her about LieutenantHyde, and she said, 'she had seen the little cockrel strutting aboutPearl Street. '"

"That was not a proper thing to say. Lieutenant Hyde carries himself inthe most distinguished manner. "

"Well, then, that is exactly so; but Aunt Angelica has her own way ofsaying things. She intended nothing unkind or disrespectful. She told methat she had frequently danced with his father when she was a girl and abeauty; and she added with a laugh, 'I can assure you, Arenta, that inthose days he was no saint; although he is now, I hear, the very pink ofpropriety. '"

"Is not that as it should be, Arenta? We ought surely to grow better aswe grow older. "

"That is not to be denied, Cornelia. Now I can tell you something worthhearing about General Hyde. "

"If it is anything wrong, or unkind, I will not listen to it, Arenta. Have you forgotten that the good Sisters always forbid us to listen toan evil report?"

"Then one must shut one's ears if one lives in New York. But, indeed, itis nothing wrong--only something romantic and delightful, and quite asgood as a story book. Shall I tell you?"

"As you wish. "

"As you wish. "

"Then I would like to hear it. "

"Listen! When Madame Hyde was Katherine Van Heemskirk, and younger thanyou are, she had two lovers; one, Captain Dick Hyde, and the other ayoung man called Neil Semple; and they fought a duel about her, andnearly cut each other to pieces. "

"Arenta!"

"Oh, it is the truth! It is the very truth, I assure you! And while Hydestill lay between life and death, Miss Van Heemskirk married him; and assoon as he was able, he carried her off at midnight to England; andthere they lived in a fine old house until the war. Then they came backto New York, and Hyde went into the Continental army and did greatthings, I suppose, for as we all knew, he was made a general. You shouldhave heard Aunt Angelica tell the story. She remembered the wholeaffair. It was a delightful story to listen to, as we drank ourchocolate. And will you please only try to imagine it of Mrs. GeneralHyde! A woman so lofty! So calm! So afar off from every impropriety thatyou always feel it impossible in her presence to commit the least bit ofinnocent folly. Will you imagine her as Katherine Van Heemskirk in ashort, quilted petticoat, with her hair hanging in two braids down herback, running away at midnight with General Hyde!"

"He was her husband. She committed no fault. "

"I was thinking of the quilted petticoat, and the two braids; for whonow dresses so extravagantly and so magnificently as Madame Hyde? Shehas an Indian shawl that cost two hundred pounds. Aunt Angelica saysJohn Embree told her 'THAT much at the very least'--and as for theGeneral! is there any man in New York so proud, and so full of dignity--and morality? He is in St. Paul's Chapel every Sunday, and when you seehim there, how could you imagine that he had fought half-a-dozen duels, for half-a-dozen beauties?"

"Half-a-dozen duels! Oh, Arenta!"

"About that number--more or less--before and after the Van Heemskirkincident. Look at him next Sunday, and then try and believe that he wasthe topmost leader in all the fashionable follies, until he went to thewar. People say it is General Washington--"

"General Washington?"

"That has changed him so much. They have been a great deal together, andI do believe the proprieties are catching. If evil is to be taken in badcompany, why not good in the presence of all that is moral andrespectable? At any rate, who is now more proper than General Hyde?Indeed, as Aunt Angelica says, we must all pay our respects to theHydes, if we desire our own caps to set straight. Cornelia, shall I tellyou why you are working so close to the window this afternoon?"

"You are going to say something I would rather not hear, Arenta. "

"Truth is wholesome, if not agreeable; and the truth is, you expectLieutenant Hyde to pass. But he will not do so. I saw him booted andspurred, on a swift horse, going up the river road. He was bound forHyde Manor, I am sure. Now, Cornelia, you need not move your frame; forno one will disturb you, and I wish to tell you some of my affairs. "

"About your lovers?"

"Yes. I have met a certain French marquis, who is attached to the Countde Moustier's embassy. I met him at intervals all last winter, and to-day, I have a love letter from him--a real love letter--and he desiresto ask my father for my hand. I shall now have something to say toMadame Kippon. "

"But you would not marry a Frenchman? That is an impossible thought, Arenta. "

"No more so than an Englishman. In fact, Englishmen are not to bethought of at all; while Frenchmen are the fashion. Just consider thedrawing-rooms of our great American ladies; they are full of Frenchnobles. "

"But they are exiles, for the most part very poor, and devoted to theidea of monarchy. "

"Ah, but my Frenchman is different. He is rich, he is in the confidenceof the present French government, and he adores republican principles. Indeed he wore at Lady Griffin's, last week, his red cap of Liberty, andlooked quite distinguished in it. "

"I am astonished that Lady Griffin permitted such a spectacle. I am sureit was a vulgar thing to do. Only the san-culottes, make such exhibitionof their private feelings. "

"I think it was a very brave thing to do--and Lady Griffin, with herEnglish prejudices and aristocratic notions, had to tolerate it. He isvery tall and dark, and he was dressed in scarlet, with a long blacksatin vest; and you may believe that the scarlet cap on his blackcurling hair was very imposing. "

"Imposing! How could it possibly be that? It is only associated withmobs, and mob law--and guillotining. "

"I shall not contradict you--though I could do so easily. I will say, then, that it was very picturesque. He asked me to dance a minuet withhim, and when I did not refuse he was beside himself with pleasure andgratitude. And after I had opened the way, several of the best ladies inthe town followed. After all, it was a matter of political opinion; andit is against our American ideas to send any man to Jersey for hispolitics. Mr. Jefferson was in red also. "

"I wish to dance with Mr. Jefferson, but I now think of waiting till hegets a new suit. "

"I am sure that no one ever made a finer figure in a dance than I, in mywhite satin and pearls, and the Marquis Athanase de Tounnerre in hisscarlet dress and Liberty cap. Every one regarded us. He tells me, to-day, that the emotion I raised in his soul that hour has not beenstilled for a moment. "

"Have you thought of your father? He would never consent to such amarriage--and what will Rem say?"

"My father will storm, and speak words he should not speak; but I am notafraid of words. Rem is more to be dreaded. He will not talk his angeraway. Yes, I should be afraid of Rem. "

"But you have not really decided to accept the Marquis Tounnerre?"

"No. I have not quite decided. I like to stand between Yes and No. Ilike to be entreated to marry, and then again, to be entreated NOT tomarry. I like to hesitate between the French and the Dutch. I am not inthe least sure on which side I shall finally range myself. "

"Then do not decide in a hurry. "

"Have I not told you I like to waver, and vacillate, and oscillate, andmake scruples? These are things a woman can do, both with privilege andinclination. I think myself to be very clever in such ways. "

"I would not care, nor dare, to venture--"

"You are a very baby yet. I am two years older than you. But indeed youare progressing with some rapidity. What about George Hyde?"

"You said he had gone out of town. "

"And I am glad of it. He will not now be insinuating himself withviolets, and compelling you to take walks with him on the Battery. Oh, Cornelia! you see I am not to be put out of your confidence. Why did younot tell me?"

"You have given me no opportunity; and, as you know all, why should Isay any more about it?"

"Cornelia, my dear companion, I fear you are inclined to concealment andto reticence, qualities a young girl should not cultivate--I am nowspeaking for dear Sister Maria Beroth--and I hope you will carefullyconsider the advantages you will derive from cultivating a more opendisposition. "

"You are making a mockery of the good Sisters; and I do not wish to hearyou commit such a great fault. Indeed, I would be pleased to return totheir peaceful care again. "

"And wear the little linen cap and collar, and all the othersimplicities? Cornelia! Cornelia! You are as fond as I am of Frenchfashions and fripperies. Let us be honest, if we die for it. And you mayas well tell me all your little coquetries with George Hyde; for I shallbe sure to find them out. Now I am going home; for I must look after thetea-table. But you will not be sorry, for it will leave you free tothink of--"

"Please, Arenta!"

"Very well. I will have 'considerations. ' Good-bye!"

Then the door closed, and Cornelia was left alone. But the atmosphere ofthe room was charged with Arenta's unrest, and a feeling ofdisappointment was added to it. She suddenly realized that her lover'sabsence from the city left a great vacancy. What were all the thousandsin its streets, if he was not there? She might now indeed remove herframe from the window; if Hyde was an impossibility, there was no oneelse she wished to see pass. And her heart told her the report was atrue one; she did not doubt for a moment Arenta's supposition, that hehad gone to Hyde Manor. But the thought made her lonely. Something, sheknew not what, had altered her life. She had a new strange happiness, new hopes, new fears and new wishes; but they were not an unmixeddelight; for she was also aware of a vague trouble, a want that nothingin her usual duties satisfied:--in a word, she had crossed the thresholdof womanhood and was no longer a girl, "Singing alone in the morning of life, In the happy morning of life, and May. "

CHAPTER IV

THROWING THINGS INTO CONFUSION

Prudence declares that whenever a person is in that disagreeablesituation which compels him to ask "what shall I do?" that the wisestanswer is, "nothing. " But such answer did not satisfy George Hyde. Hewas too young, too sure of his own good fortune, too restless andimpulsive, to accept Prudence as a councillor. He might have considered, that, hitherto, affairs had happened precisely as he wished them; andthat it would be good policy to trust to his future opportunities. Buthe was so much in earnest, so honestly in love, that he felt his doubtsand anxieties could only be relieved by action. Sympathy, at least, hemust have; and he knew no man, to whom he would willingly talk ofCornelia. The little jests and innuendoes sure to follow his confidencewould be intolerable if associated with a creature so pure and soingenuous. 

"I will go to my mother!" he thought. And this resolution satisfied himso well, that he carried it out at once. But it was after dark when hereached the tall stone portals of Hyde Manor House. The ride, however, had given him back his best self. For when we leave society and comeinto the presence of Nature, we become children again; and the fictionsof thought and action assumed among men drop off like a garment. Thebeauty of the pale green hills, and the flowing river, and the buddingtrees, and the melody of birds singing as if they never would grow old, were all but charming accessories and horizons to his constant picturesof Cornelia. It was she who gave life and beauty to all he saw; for as arule, if men notice nature at all, it is ever through some paintedwindow of their own souls. Few indeed are those who hear--

"The Ancient Word, That walked among the silent trees. "

Yet Hyde was keenly conscious of some mystical sympathy between himselfand the lovely scenes through which he passed--conscious still more ofit when the sun had set and the moon rose--dim and inscrutable--over thelonely way, and filled the narrow glen which was at the entrance to theManor House full of brooding power. 

The great building loomed up dark and silent; there was but one lightvisible. It was in his mother's usual sitting-room, and as soon as hesaw it, he began to whistle. She heard him afar off, and was at the doorto give him a welcome. 

"Joris, my dear one, we were talking of you!" she cried, as he leapedfrom the saddle to her arms. "So glad are we! Come in quickly! Such agood surprise! It is our hearts' wish granted! Well, are you? Quitewell? Now, then, I am happy. Happy as can be! Look now, Richard!" shecalled, as she flung the door open, and entered with the handsome, smiling youth at her side. 

In his way the father was just as much pleased. He pushed some papers hehad been busy with impatiently aside, and stood up with outstretchedhand to meet his son. 

"Kate, my dear heart, " he cried, "let us have something to eat. The boywill be hungry as a hunter after his ride. And George, what brings youhome? We were just telling each other--your mother and I--that you werein the height of the city's follies. "

"Indeed, sir, there will be few follies for some days. Mr. Franklin isdead, and the city goes into mourning. "

"'Tis a fate that all must meet, " said the General; "but death andFranklin would look each other in the face as friends--He had a work todo, he did it well, and it is finished. That is all. What other news doyou bring?"

"It is said that Mirabeau is arrested somewhere, for something. I didnot hear the particulars. "

"Probably, for the very least of his crimes. Marat hates him; and Maratrepresents the fury of the Revolution. The monster wished to erect eighthundred gibbets, and hang Mirabeau first. "

"And the deputies are returning to the Provinces, drunk with their ownimportance. They have abolished titles, and coats of arms, and liveries;and published a list of the names the nobles are to assume--as if peopledid not know their own names. Mr. Hamilton says 'Revolution in Francehas gone raving mad, and converted twenty-four millions of people intosavages. '"

"I hate the French!" said the General passionately. "It is a naturalinstinct with me, just as tame animals are born with an antipathy towild beasts. If I thought I had one drop of French blood in me, I wouldlet it out with a dagger. "

George winced a little. He remembered that the Morans were of Frenchextraction; and he answered--

"After all, father, we must judge people individually. Mere race is notmuch. "

"George Hyde! What are you saying? RACE is everything. It is thestrongest and deepest of all human feelings. Nothing conquers itsprejudices. "

"Except love. I have heard, father, that Love never asks 'of what raceart thou?' or even 'whose son, or daughter, art thou?'"

"You have heard many foolish things, George; that is one of them. Menand women marry out of their own nationality, AT THEIR PERIL. I took mylife in my hand for your mother's love. "

"She was worthy of the peril. "

"God knows it. "

At this moment Mrs. Hyde entered the room, her fair face alight withlove. A servant carrying a tray full of good things to eat, followedher; and it was delightful to watch her eager happiness as she arrangedmeats, and sweetmeats, in tempting order for the hungry young man. Hethoroughly enjoyed this provision for his comfort; and as he ate, hetalked to his father of those things interesting to him, answering allquestions with that complaisant positiveness of youth which decideseverything at once, and without reservation. No one understood thisbetter than General Hyde, but it pleased him to draw out his son'sopinions; and it also pleased him to watch the pride of the fond mother, who evidently considered her boy a paragon of youthful judgment. 

"And pray, " he asked, "what can you tell me about the seat ofgovernment? Will New York be chosen?"

"I am sure it will be Philadelphia; and, indeed, I care not. It would, however, amuse you to hear some of the opinions on the matter; for everyone hangs his judgment on the peg of his own little interests orlikings. Young De Witt says New York wants no government departments;that she is far too busy a city, to endure government idlers hangingaround her best streets. Doctor Rush says the government is making ourcity a sink of political vice. Mr. Wolcott says honesty is the fashionin New York. Some of the clergy think Wall Street as wicked as the mostfashionable streets in Tyre and Sodom; and the street-singers--thanks toMr. Freneau--have each, and all, their little audiences on the subject. As I came up Broadway, a man was shouting a rhyme advising thePhiladelphians to 'get ready their dishcloths and brooms, and beginscouring their knockers, and scrubbing their rooms. ' Perhaps the mostsensible thing on the subject came from one of the New England senators. He thought the seat of government ought to be 'in some wilderness, wherethere would be no social attractions, where members could go and attendstrictly to business. ' Upon my word, sir, the opinions are endless innumber and variety; but, in truth, Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Morris arearranging the matter. This is without doubt. There is to be some sort ofcompromise with the Southern senators, who are promised the capital onthe Potomac, finally, if they no longer oppose the assumption of theState debts. I hear that Mr. Jefferson has been brought to agree to thisunderstanding. And Mr. Morris doubtless thinks, if the governmentoffices are once opened in Philadelphia, they will remain there. "

"And Joris, the ladies? What say they on the subject?" asked Mrs. Hyde. 

"Indeed, mother, some of them are lamenting, and some looking forward tothe change. All are talking of the social deposition of the beautifulMrs. Bingham. 'She will have to abate herself a little before Mrs. Washington, ' I heard one lady say; while others declare, that herassociation with our Republican Court will be harmonious andadvantageous; especially, as she is beloved in the home of thePresident. "

"OUR REPUBLICAN COURT! The definition is absurd!" said General Hyde, with both scorn and temper. "A court pre-supposes both royalty andnobility!"

"We have both of them intrinsically, father. "

"In faith, George! you will find, that intrinsic qualities have nosocial value. What people require is their external evidence. "

"And their external evidence would be extremely offensive here, sir. Formy part, I think, the sneaking hankering after titles and ceremonies, among our wealthy men and women is a very great weakness. Every oneknows that nothing would please fussy Mr. Adams better than to be aduke, or even a lord--and he is by no means alone in such desires. "

"They may be yet realized. "

"They will not, sir--not, at least, while Thomas Jefferson lives. He isthe bulldog of Democracy, and he would be at the throat of any suchpretences as soon as they were suggested. "

"Very well, George! I have no objections. "

"I knew, sir, that you were a thorough Democrat. "

"Do not go too far, George. I love Democracy; but I hate Democrats! NowI am sleepy, and as Mr. Jefferson is on the watch, I may go to sleepcomfortably. I will talk to you more on these subjects in the morning. Good-night!" He put his hand on his son's shoulder, and looked with aproud confidence into the bright face, lifted to the touch. 

Then George was alone with his mother; but she was full of littlehousehold affairs; and he could not bring into them a subject so close, and so sacred to his heart. He listened a little wearily to her plans, and was glad when she recollected the late hour and hurried him away tohis chamber--a large, lofty room in the front of the house, on which shehad realized all the ideas that her great love, and her really exquisitetaste suggested. He entered it with a sense of delight, and readilysurrendered himself to its dreamy air of sleep and rest. "I will speakto my mother in the morning, " he thought. "To-night, her mind is full ofother things. "

But in the morning Mrs. Hyde was still more interested in "otherthings. " She had an architect with her, her servants were to order, herhouse to look after; and George readily felt that his hour was certainlynot in the early morning. He had slept a little late, and his mother didnot approve of sleep beyond the normal hour. He saw that he had delayedhousehold matters, and made an environment not quite harmonious. So heate his breakfast rapidly, and went out to the new stables. He expectedto find the General there, and he was not disappointed. He had, however, finished his inspection of the horses, and he proposed a walk to theupper end of the Glen, where a great pond was being dug for Mrs. Hyde'sswans, and other aquatic birds. 

There was much to interest them as they walked: men were busy draining, and building stone walls; ploughing and sowing, and digging, andplanting. Yet, in the midst of all this busy life, George detected inhis father's manner an air of melancholy. He looked into his son's facewith affection, and pointed out to him with an apparent interest, theimprovements in progress, but George knew--though he could not haveexplained why he knew--that his father's heart was not really in thesethings. Presently he asked, "How goes it with your law books, George?"

"Faith, sir, I must confess, very indifferently. I have no senses thatway; and 'tis only your desire that keeps my books open. I would farrather read my Plutarch, or write with my sword. "

"Let me tell you, soberly, that it is a matter of personal interest toyou. There is now no question of the law as a profession, for since yourcousin's death your prospects have entirely changed. But consider, George, that not only this estate, but also the estate of yourGrandfather Van Heemskirk must eventually come to you. Much of both hasbeen bought from confiscated properties, and it is not improbable thatclaimants may arise who will cause you trouble. How necessary, then, that you should know something of the laws affecting land and propertyin this country. "

"My grandfather is in trouble. I forgot to tell you last night, that hisfriend, Elder Semple, is dead. "

"Dead!"

"Yes, sir. "

For a few minutes General Hyde remained silent; then he said with muchfeeling, "Peace to the old Tory! He was once very kind to me and to myfamily. Ah, George, I have again defrauded myself of a satisfaction! Fora long time I have intended to go and see him--it is now too late! But Iwill return to the city with you and pay him the last respect possible. Who told you this news?"

"I was walking on Broadway with young McAllister, and Doctor Moranstopped us and sent word to Elder McAllister of the death of his friend. I think, indeed, they were relatives, "

"Was Doctor Moran his physician?"

"Yes, sir. A very good physician, I believe; I know, that he is a verycourteous and entertaining gentleman. "

"And pray, George, how do you come by such an opinion?"

"I had the honour of spending an evening at Doctor Moran's house thisweek; and if you will believe me, sir, he has a daughter that shamesevery other beauty. Such bewildering loveliness! Such entrancingfreshness and purity I never saw before!"

"In love again, George. Faith, you make me ashamed of my own youth! Butthis enchanting creature cannot make of her father--anything but what heis. "

"This time I am desperately, and really, in love. "

"So you were with Mollie Trefuses, with Sarah Talbot, with Eliza Capel, with Matilda Howard--and a galaxy of minor beauties. "

"But it has come to this--I wish to marry Miss Moran; and I never wishedto marry any other woman. "

"You have forgotten--And by Heaven! you must forget Miss Moran. She isnot to be thought of as a wife--for one moment. "

"Sir, you are not so unjust as to make such a statement without givingme a reason for it. "

"Giving you a reason! My reason ought to have sprung up voluntary inyour own heart. It is an incredible thing if you are not alreadyfamiliar with it. "

"Simply, sir, I profess my ignorance. "

"Look around you. Look east, and west, and north, and south, --all theserich lands were bought with your Uncle William's money. He made himselfpoor, to make me rich; because, having brought me up as his heir, hethought his marriage late in life had in a manner defrauded me. You knowthat the death of his two sons has again made me the heir to the Hydeearldom; and that after me, the succession is yours. Tell me now whatchild is left to your uncle?"

"Only his daughter Annie, a girl of fourteen or fifteen years. "

"What will become of her when her father dies?"

"Sir, how can I divine her future?"

"It is your duty to divine her future. Her father has no gold to leaveher--he gave it to me--and the land he cannot leave her; yet she has anatural right, beyond either mine or yours. "

"I give her my right, cheerfully. "

"You cannot give it to her--unless you outlaw yourself from your nativecountry--strip yourself of your citizenship--declare yourself unworthyto be a son of the land that gave you birth. Even if you perpetratedsuch a civil crime, you would render no service to Annie. Your rightwould simply lapse to the son of Herbert Hyde--the young man you met atOxford--"

"Surely, sir, we need not talk of that fellow. I have already told youwhat a very sycophant he is. He licks the dust before any man of wealthor authority; his tongue hangs down to his shoe-buckles. "

"Well then, sir, what is your duty to Annie Hyde?"

"I do not conceive myself to have any special duty to Annie Hyde. "

"Upon my honour, you are then perversely stupid! But it is impossiblethat you do not realize what justice, honour, gratitude and generositydemand from you! When your uncle wrote me that pitiful letter whichinformed me of the death of his last son, my first thought was that hisdaughter must be assured her right in the succession. There is one wayto compass this. You know what that way is. --Why do you not speak?"

"Because, sir, if I confess your evident opinion to be just, I bindmyself to carry it out, because of its justice. "

"Is it not just?"

"It might be just to Annie and very unjust to me. "

"No, sir. Justice is a thing absolute; it is not altered bycircumstances, especially for a circumstance so trivial as a young man'sidle fancy. "

"'Tis no idle fancy. I love Cornelia Moran. "

"You have already loved a score of beauties--and forgotten them. "

"I have admired, and forgot. If I had loved, I should not haveforgotten. Now, I love. "

"Then, sir, be a man, a noble man, and put your personal gratificationbelow justice, honour, and gratitude. This is the first real trial ofyour life, George, are you going to play the coward in it?"

"If you could only see Miss Moran!"

"I should find it difficult to be civil to her. George, I put before youa duty that no gentleman can by any possibility evade. "

"If this arrangement is so important, why was I not told of it, erethis?"

"It is scarcely a year since your Cousin Harry's death. Annie is notfifteen years old. I did not wish to force matters. I intended you to goto England next year, and I hoped that a marriage might come without myadvice or my interference. It seemed to me that Annie's position woulditself open your heart to her. "

"I have no heart to give her. "

"Then you must at least give her your hand. I myself proposed thisarrangement, and your uncle's pleasure and gratitude were of the mosttouching kind. Further, if you will have the very truth, then know, thatunder no circumstances, will I sanction a marriage with Doctor Moran'sdaughter. "

"You cannot possibly object to her, sir. She is perfection itself. "

"I object to her in-toto. I detest Doctor Moran, personally. I know notwhy, nor care wherefore. I detest him still more sincerely as a man ofFrench extraction. I was brought very much in contact with him for threeyears, and if we had not been in camp, and under arms, I would havechallenged him a score of times. He is the most offensive of men. Hebrought his race prejudices continually to the front. When Lafayette waswounded, with some of his bragging company, nothing would do but DoctorMoran must go with them to the hospital at Bethlehem; yes, and staythere, until the precious marquis was out of danger. I'll swear that hewould not have done this for Washington--he would have blustered aboutthe poor fellows lying sick in camp. Moran talks about being anAmerican, and the Frenchman crops out at every corner. But HE is neitherhere, nor there, in our affairs; what I wish you to remember is, thatrank has its duties as well as its privileges; and you would be apoltroon to accept one and ignore the other. What are you going to do?"

"I know not. I must think--"

"I am ashamed of you! In the name of all that is honourable, what isthere to think about? Have you told this Miss Moran that you love her?"

"Not in precise words. I have only seen her three or four times. "

"Then, sir, you have only YOURSELF to think about. Have I a son with solittle proper feeling that he needs to think a moment when the case isbetween honour and himself? George, it is high time that you set out totravel. In the neighbourhood of your mother, and your grandparents, andyour flatterers in the city, you never get beyond the atmosphere of yourown whims and fancies. This conversation has come sooner than I wished;but after it, there is nothing worth talking about. "

"Sir, you are more cruel and unreasonable than I could believepossible. "

"The railings of a losing lover are not worth answering. Give your angersway, and when you are reasonable again, tell me. A man mad in love hassome title to my pity. "

"And, sir, if you were any other man but my father, I would say'Confound your pity!' I am not sensible of deserving it, except as theresult of your own unreasonable demands on me--Our conversation isextremely unpleasant, and I desire to put an end to it. Permit me toreturn to the house. "

"With all my heart. But let me advise you to say nothing to your mother, at present, on this subject:" then with an air of dejection he added--"What is past, must go; and whatever is to come is very sure to happen. "

"Sir, nothing past, present, or future, can change me. I shall obey thewishes of my heart, and be true to its love. "

"Let me tell you, George, that Love is now grown wise. He followsFortune. "

"Good-morning, sir. "

"Let it be so. I will see you to-morrow in town. Ten to one, you will bemore reasonable then. "

He stood in the centre of the roadway watching his son's angry carriage. The poise of his head, and his rapid, uneven steps, were symptoms theanxious father understood very well. "He is in a naked temper, withouteven civil disguise, " he muttered; "and I hope his own company willsatisfy him until the first fever is past. Do I not know that to be inlove is to be possessed? It is in the head--the heart--the blood--it isindeed an uncontrollable fever! I hope, first and foremost, that he willkeep away from his mother in his present unreason. "

His mother was, however, George's first desire. He did not believe shewould sanction his sacrifice to Annie Hyde. Justice, honour, gratitude!these were fine names of his father's invention to adorn a ceremonywhich would celebrate his life-long misery, and he rebelled against suchan immolation of his youth and happiness. When he reached the house, hefound that his mother had gone to the pond to feed her swans; and hedecided to ride a little out of his way in order to see her there. Presently he came to a spot where tall, shadowing pines surrounded alarge sheet of water, dipping their lowest branches into it. Mrs. Hydestood among them, and the white, stately birds were crowding to her veryfeet. He reined in his horse to watch her, and though accustomed to herbeauty, he marvelled again at it. Like a sylvan goddess she stood, divinely tall, and divinely fair; her whole presence suffused with aheavenly serenity and happiness! Upon the soft earth the hoofs of hishorse had not been audible, but when he came within her sight, it waswonderful to watch the transformation on her countenance. A great love, a great joy, swept away like a gust of wind, the peace on its surface;and a glowing, loving intelligence made her instantly restless. Shecalled him with sweet imperiousness, "George! Joris! Joris! My dearone!" and he answered her with the one word ever near, and ever dear, toa woman's heart--"MOTHER!"

"I thought you were with your father. Where have you left him?"

"In the wilderness. There is need for me to go to the city. My fatherwill tell you WHY. I come only to see you--to kiss you--"

"Joris, I see that you are angry. Well then, my dear one, what is it?What has your father been saying to you?"

"He will tell you. "

"SO! Whatever it is, your part I shall take. Right or wrong, your part Ishall take. "

"There is nothing wrong, dear mother. "

"Money, is it?"

"It is not money. My father is generous to me. "

"Then, some woman it is?"

"Kiss me, mother. After all, there is no woman like unto you. "

She drew close to him, and he stooped his handsome face to hers, andkissed her many times. Her smile comforted him, for it was full ofconfidence, as she said--

"Trouble not yourself, Joris. At the last, your father sees through myeyes. Must you go? Well then, the Best of Beings go with you!"

"When are you coming to town, mother?"

"Next week. There is a dinner party at the President's, and your fatherwill not be absent--nor I--nor you?"

"If I am invited, I shall go, just that I may see you enter the room. Let me tell you, that sight always fills my heart with a tumultuouspride and love. "

"A great flatterer are you, Joris!" but she lifted her face again, andGeorge kissed it, and then rode rapidly away. 

He hardly drew rein until he reached his grandfather's house, a handsomeDutch residence, built of yellow brick, and standing in a garden thatwas, at this season, a glory of tulips and daffodils, hyacinths andnarcissus--the splendid colouring of the beds being wonderfullyincreased by their borderings of clipped box. An air of sunshiny peacewas over the place, and as the upper-half of the side-door stood open hetied his horse and went in. The ticking of the tall house-clock was theonly sound he heard at first, but as he stood irresolute, a sweet, thinvoice in an adjoining room began to sing a hymn. 

"Grandmother! Grandmother!! Grandmother!!!" he called, and before thelast appeal was echoed the old lady appeared. She came forward rapidly, her knitting in her hand. She was singularly bright and alert, with rosycheeks, and snow-white hair under a snow-white cap of clear-starchedlace. A snow-white kerchief of lawn was crossed over her breast, and therest of her dress was so perfectly Dutch that she might have stepped outof one of Tenier's pictures. 

"Oh, my Joris!" she cried, "Joris! Joris! I am so happy to see thee. Butwhat, then, is the matter? Thy eyes are full of trouble. "

"I will tell you, grandmother. " And he sat down by her side and wentover the conversation he had had with his father. She never interruptedhim, but he knew by the rapid clicking of her knitting needles that shewas moved far beyond her usual quietude. When he ceased speaking, sheanswered--

"To sell thee, Joris, is a great shame, and for nothing to sell thee isstill worse. This is what I think: Let half of the income from theearldom go to the poor young lady, but THYSELF into the bargain, isbeyond all reason. And if with Cornelia Moran thou art in love, a goodthing it is;--so I say. "

"Do you know Cornelia, grandmother?"

"Well, then, I have seen her; more than once. A great beauty I thinkher; and Doctor John has Money--plenty of money--and a very good familyare the Morans. I remember his father--a very fine gentleman. "

"But my father hates Doctor Moran. "

"Very wicked is he to hate any one. Why, then?"

"He gave me only one reason--that his family is French. "

"SO! Thy mother was Dutch. Every one cannot be English--a God's mercythey cannot! Now, then, thy grandfather is coming; thy trouble tell tohim. Good advice he will give thee. "

Senator Van Heemskirk however went first into his garden and gatheringgreat handfuls of white narcissus and golden daffodils, he called aslave woman and bade her carry them to the Semple house, and lay themin, and around, his friend's coffin. One white lily he kept in his handas he came towards his wife and grandson, with eyes fixed on its beauty. 

"Lysbet, " he said, --but he clasped George's hand as he spoke--"MyLysbet, if in the Dead Valley of this earth grow such heavenly flowersas this, we will not fear the grave. It is only to sleep on the breastthat gives us the lily and the rose, and the wheat, and the corn. Oh, how sweet is this flower! It has the scent of Paradise. "

He laid it gently down while he put off his fine broadcloth coat andlace ruffles and assumed the long vest and silk skull cap, which was hishome dress; then he put it in a buttonhole of his vest, and seemed tojoy himself in its delicate fragrance. With these preliminaries neitherJoris nor Lysbet interfered; but when he had lit his long pipe andseated himself comfortably in his chair, Lysbet said--

"Where hast thou been all this afternoon?"

"I have been sealing up my friend's desk and drawers until his sonsarrive. Very happy he looks. He is now ONE OF THOSE THAT KNOW. "

"Well, then, after the long strife, 'He Rests. '"

"Men have written it. What know they about it? Rest would not be heavento my friend Alexander Semple. To work, to be up and doing His Will, that would be his delight. "

"I wonder, Joris, if in the next life we shall know each other?"

"My Lysbet, in this life do we know each other?"

"I think not. Here has come our dear Joris full of trouble to thee, forhis father has said such things as I could not have believed. Joris, tell thy grandfather what they are. "

And this time George, being very sure of hearty sympathy, told his talewith great feeling--perhaps even with a little anger. His grandfatherlistened patiently to the youth's impatience, but he did not answerexactly to his expectations. 

"My Joris, " he said, "so hard it is to accept what goes against ourwishes. If Cornelia Moran you had not met, would your father's desiresbe so impossible to you? Noble and generous would they not seem--"

"But I have seen Cornelia, and I love her. "

"Two or three times you have seen her. How can you be sure that you loveher?"

"In the first hour I was sure. "

"Of nothing are we quite sure. In too great a hurry are you. Miss Moranmay not love you. She may refuse ever to love you. Her mind you have notasked. Beside this, in his family her father may not wish you. A veryproud man is Doctor John. "

"Grandfather, I may be an earl some day. "

"An English earl. Doctor John may not endure to think of his only childliving in that far-off country. I, myself, know how this thought canwork a father to madness. And, again, your Cousin Annie may not wish tomarry you. "

"Faith, sir, I had not thought of myself as so very disagreeable. "

"No. Vain and self-confident is a young man. See, then, how many thingsmay work this way, that way, and if wise you are you will be quiet andwait for events. One thing, move not in your anger; it is like puttingto sea in a tempest. Now I shall just say a word or two on the otherside. If your father is so set in his mind about the Hydes, let him dothe justice to them he wishes to do; but it is not right that he shouldmake YOU do it for him. "

"He says that only I can give Annie justice. "

"But that is not good sense. When the present Earl dies, and she is leftan orphan, who shall prevent your father from adopting her as his owndaughter, and leaving her a daughter's portion of the estate? In suchcase, she would be in exactly the same position as if her brother hadlived and become earl. Is not that so?"

"My dear, dear grandfather, you carry wisdom with you! Now I shall havethe pleasure to propose to my father that he do his own justice! O wise, wise grandfather! You have made me happy to a degree!"

"Very well, but say not that _I_ gave you such counsel. When your fatherspeaks to me, as he is certain to do, then I will say such and suchwords to him; but my words in your mouth will be a great offence; andvery justly so, for it is hard to carry words, and carry nothing else. Your dear mother--how is she?"

"Well and happy. She builds, and she plants, and the days are too shortfor her. But my father is not so happy. I can see that he is wearied ofeverything. "

"Not here, is his heart. It is in England. And no longer has he greathopes to keep him young. If of Liberty I now speak to him, he has asmile so hopeless that both sad and angry it makes me. No faith has heleft in any man, except Washington; and I think, also, he isdisappointed that Washington was not crowned King George the First. "

"I can assure you, sir, that others share his disappointment. Mr. Adamswould not object to be Duke of New York, and even little Burr would likea lordship. "

"I have heard; my ears are not dull, nor my eyes blind. But too much outof the world lives your father; men who do so grow unfit to live in theworld. He dreams dreams impossible to us--impossible to France--and thenhe says 'Liberty is a dream. ' Well, well, Life also is a dream--when weawake--"

Then he ceased speaking, and there was silence until Lysbet VanHeemskirk said, softly, "When we awake, WE SHALL BE SATISFIED. "

Van Heernskirk smiled at his wife's cheerful assurance, and continued, "It is true, Lysbet, what you say; and even here, in our dreaming, whatsatisfaction! As for me, I expect not too much. The old order and thenew order fight yet for the victory; and what passes now will be worthtalking about fifty years hence. "

"It is said, grandfather, that the Dutch church is anti-Federal to aman. "

"Not true are such sayings. The church will be very like old VanSteenwyck, who boasts of his impartiality, and who votes for theFederals once, and for the anti-Federals once, and the third time doesnot vote at all. If taken was the vote of the Church, it would be sixfor the Federals and half-a-dozen for the anti-Federals. "

"Mr. Burr--"

"Of Mr. Burr I will not talk. I like not his little dirty politics. "

"He is very clever. "

"Well, then, you have to praise him for being clever; for being honestyou cannot praise him. "

"'Tis a monstrous pity that Right can only be on one side; yet sometimesRight and Mr. Burr may happen to be on the same side. "

"The right way is too straight for Aaron Burr. If into it he wanders'tis for a wrong reason. "

"My dear grandfather, how your words bite!"

"I wish not to say biting things; but Aaron Burr stands for thosepoliticians who turn patriotism into shopkeeping and their own interest--men who care far more for WHO governs us than for HOW we are governed. And what will be the end of such ways? I will tell you. We shall have aDemocracy that will be the reign of those who know the least and talkthe loudest. "

At this point in the conversation Van Heemskirk was called to the doorabout some business matter and George was left alone with hisgrandmother. She was setting the tea-table, and her hands were full ofchina; but she put the cups quickly down, and going to George's side, said--

"Cornelia Moran spends this evening with her friend Arenta Van Ariens. Well then, would thou like an excuse to call on Arenta?"

"Oh, grandmother! Do you indeed know Arenta? Can you send me there?"

"Since she was one month old I have known Arenta. This morning, she camehere to borrow for her Aunt Jacobus my ivory winders. Now then, I didnot wish to lend Angelica Jacobus my winders; and I said to Arenta that'by and by I would look for them. ' Not far are they to seek; and for thypleasure I will get them, and thou canst take them this evening toArenta. "

"O you dear, dear grandmother!" and he stood up, and lifted her rosyface between his hands and kissed her. 

"I am so fond of thee, " she continued. "I love thee so much; and thypleasure is my pleasure; and I see no harm--no harm at all--in thy lovefor the beautiful Cornelia. I think, with thee, she is a girl worth anyman's heart; and if thou canst win her, I, for one, will be joyful withthee. Perhaps, though, I am a selfish old woman--it is so easy to beselfish. "

"Let me tell you, grandmother, you know not how to be selfish. "

"Let me tell thee, Joris, I was thinking of myself, as well as of thee. For while thy grandfather talked of Aaron Burr, this thought came intomy mind--if to Annie Hyde my Joris is married, he will live in England, and I shall see him no more in this world. But if to Cornelia Moran heis married, when his father goes to England, then here he will stay; hewill live at Hyde Manor, and I shall go to see him, and he will callhere to see me;--and then, many good days came into my thoughts. Yes, yes, in every kind thing, in every good thing, somewhere there is hid alittle bit of our own will and way. Always, if I look with straighteyes, I can find it. " "Get me the winders, grandmother; for now you havegiven me a reason to hurry. "

"But why so quickly must you go?"

"Look at me! It will take me two hours to dress. I have had no dinner--Iwant to think--you understand, grandmother?"

Then she went into the best parlour, and opening one of the shutters letin sufficient light to find in the drawer of a little Chinese cabinetsome ivory winders of very curious design and workmanship. She foldedthem in soft tissue paper and handed them to her grandson with apleasant nod; and the young man slipped them into his waistcoat pocket, and then went hurriedly away. 

He had spoken of his dinner, but though somewhat hungry, he made but alight meal. His dress seemed to him the most vitally important thing ofthe hour; and no girl choosing her first ball gown could have felt moreanxious and critical on the subject. His call was to be considered anaccidental one; and he could not therefore dress as splendidly as if itwere a ceremonious or expected visit. After much hesitation, he selecteda coat and breeches of black velvet, a pearl-coloured vest, and cravatand ruffles of fine English bone lace. Yet when his toilet wascompleted, he was dissatisfied. He felt sure more splendid apparel setoff his dark beauty to greater advantage; and yet he was equally surethat more splendid apparel would not--on this occasion--be as suitable. 

Doubting and hoping, he reached the Van Ariens' house soon after seveno'clock. It was not quite dark, and Jacob Van Ariens stood on the stoop, smoking his pipe and talking to a man who had the appearance of aworkman; and who was, in fact, the foreman of his business quarters inthe Swamp. 

"Good-evening, sir, " said George with smiling politeness. "Is Miss VanAriens within?"

"Within? Yes. But company she has tonight, " said the watchful father, ashe stood suspicious and immovable in the entrance. 

It did not seem to George as if it would be an easy thing to pass such aporter at the door, but he continued, "I have come with a message to Miss Van Ariens. "

"A very fine messenger!" answered Van Ariens, slightly smiling. 

"A fine lady deserves a fine messenger. But, sir, if you will do myerrand for me, I am content. 'Tis from Madame Van Heemskirk--"

"SO then? That is good. "

"I am George Hyde, her grandson, you know. "

"Well then, I did not know. 'Tis near dark, and I see not as well asonce I did. "

"I have brought from Madame Van Heemskirk some ivory winders for MadameJacobus. "

"Come in, come in, and tell my Arenta the message thyself. I knownothing of such things. Come in, I did not think of thee as my friendVan Heemskirk's grandson. Welcome art thou!" and Van Ariens himselfopened the parlour door, saying, "Arenta, here is George Hyde. A messagehe brings for thy Aunt Angelica. "

And while these words were being uttered, George delighted his eyes withthe vision of Cornelia, who sat at a small table with some needlework inher hand. Arenta's tatting was over her foot, and she had to remove itin order to rise and meet Hyde. Rem sat idly fingering a pack of playingcards and talking to Cornelia. This situation George took in at aglance; though his sense of sight was quite satisfied when it rested onthe lovely girl who dropped her needle as he entered, for he saw thebright flush which overspread her face and throat, and the light ofpleasure which so filled her eyes that they seemed to make her wholeface luminous. 

In a few moments, Arenta's pretty enthusiasms and welcomes dissipatedall constraint, and Hyde placed his chair among the happy group and felleasily into his most charming mood. Even Rem could not resist theatmosphere of gaiety and real enjoyment that soon pervaded the room. They sang, they played, they had a game at whist, and everything thathappened was in some subtle, secret way, a vehicle for Hyde's love toexpress itself. Yet it was to Arenta he appeared to be most attentive;and Rem was good-naturedly inclined to permit his sister to beappropriated, if only he was first in the service of Cornelia. 

But though Hyde's attentions were so little obvious, Cornelia wassatisfied. It would have been a poor lover who could not have said undersuch circumstances "I love you" a hundred times over; and George Hydewas not a poor lover. He had naturally the ardent confidence and daringwhich delight women, and he had not passed several seasons in thehighest London society without learning all those sweet, occult ways ofmaking known admiration, which the presence of others renders bothnecessary and possible. 

About half-past nine, a negro woman came with Cornelia's cloak and hood. George took them from Arenta's hand and folded the warm circular roundCornelia's slight figure; and then watched her tie her pretty pink hood, managing amid the pleasant stir of leave-taking to whisper some wordsthat sang all night like sweetest music in her heart. It was Rem, however, that gave her his arm and escorted her to her own door; andwith this rightful privilege to his guest young Hyde was far toogentlemanly and just to interfere. However, even in this moment ofseeming secondary consideration, he heard a few words which gave him adelightful assurance of coming satisfaction. For as the two girls stoodin the hall, Arenta said--

"You will come over in the morning, Cornelia?"

"I cannot, " answered Cornelia. "After breakfast, I have to go toRichmond Hill with a message from my mother to Mrs. Adams; and thoughfather will drive me there I shall most likely have to walk home. But Iwill come to you in the afternoon. "

"Very well. Then in the morning I will go to Aunt Angelica's with thewinders. I shall then have some news to tell you in the afternoon--thatis, if the town makes us any. "

And George, hearing these words, could hardly control his delight. Forhe was one of Mrs. Adams' favourites, and so much at home in her housethat he could visit her at any hour of the day without a ceremoniousinvitation. And it immediately struck him that his mother had oftendesired to know how Mrs. Adams fed her swans, and also that she hadwished for some seeds from her laburnum trees. These things would make avalid excuse for an early call, as Mrs. Adams might naturally suppose hewas on his way to Hyde Manor. 

He took a merry leave of Arenta, and with his mind full of this plan, went directly to his rooms. The Belvedere Club was this night, impossible to him. After the angelic Cornelia, he could not take intohis consciousness the hideous Marat, and the savage orgies of the FrenchRevolution. Such a thought transference would be an impossibleprofanation. Indeed, he could consider no other thing, but themiraculous fact, that Cornelia was going to Mrs. Adams'; and that it wasquite within his power to meet her there. 

"'Tis my destiny! 'Tis my happy destiny to love her!" he said softly tohimself. "Such an adorable girl! Such a ravishing beauty is notelsewhere on this earth!" And he was not conscious of any exaggerationin such language. Nor was there. He was young, he was rich, he had nobusiness to consider, no sorrow to sober him, no care of any kind tomingle with the rapturous thoughts which his transported imagination andhis captivated heart blended with the image of Cornelia. 

"I shall tell Mrs. Adams how far gone in love I am, " he continued. "Sheis herself set on that clever little husband of hers; and 'tis said, theirs was a love match, beyond all speculation. I shall say to her, 'Help me, madame, to an opportunity'; and I think she will not refuse. As for my father, I heard him this morning with as much patience as anyChristian could do; but I am resolved to marry Cornelia. I will not giveher up; not for an earldom! not for a dukedom! not for the crown ofEngland!"

And to these thoughts he flung off, with a kind of passion, his coat andvest. The action was but the affirmation of his resolve, amaterialization of his will. To have used an oath in connection withCornelia would have offended him; but this passionate action assertedwith equal emphasis his unalterable resolve. A tender, gallant, courageous spirit possessed him. He was carried away by the feelings itinspired: and nobly so, for alas for that man who professes to be inlove and is not carried away by his feelings; in such case, he has nofeelings worth speaking of!

Joris Hyde allowed the sweet emotions Cornelia had inspired to have, andto hold, and to occupy his whole being. His heart burned within him;memories of Cornelia closed his eyes, and then filled them with adorablevisions of her pure, fresh loveliness; his pulses bounded; his blood ranwarm and free as the ethereal ichor of the gods. Sleep was a thousandleagues away; he was so vivid, that the room felt hot; and he flung openthe casement and sat in a beatitude of blissful hopes and imaginations. 

And after midnight, when dreams fall, the moon came up over Nassau andCedar Streets and threw poetic glamours over the antique churches, andgrassy graveyards, and the pretty houses, covered with vines and buddingrosebushes; and this soft shadow of light calmed and charmed him. In it, he could believe all his dreams possible. He leaned forward and watchedthe silvery disc, struggling in soft, white clouds; parting them, aswith hands, when they formed in baffling, airy masses in her way. Andthe heavenly traveller was not silent; she had a language he understood;for as he watched the sweet, strong miracle, he said softly to himself--

"It is a sign to me! It is a sign! So will I put away every bafflinghindrance between Cornelia and myself. Barriers will only be as thosevaporous clouds. I shall part them with my strong resolves--I shall--Ishall--I--" and he fell asleep with this sense of victory thrilling hiswhole being. Then the moon rose higher, and soon came in broad whitebars through the window and lay on his young, handsome, smiling face, with the same sweet radiance that in the days of the gods glorified thebeautiful shepherd, sleeping on the Ephesian plains. 

CHAPTER V

TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF

When Hyde awakened, he was in that borderland between dreams and daywhich we call dawn. And as the ear is the last sense to go to sleep, andthe first sense to throw off its lethargy, the voices of men calling"Milk Ho!" and the shrill childish cries of "Sweep Ho!" were the firstintruders into that pleasant condition between sleeping and waking, sohard for any of us to leave without a sigh of regret. These sounds werequickly supplemented by the roll of the heavy carts which purveyed theonly water suitable for drinking and culinary purposes; and by thesounds of wood-sawing and wood-chopping before the doors of the adjacenthouses--sounds quickly blending themselves with the shuffling feet ofthe slaves cleaning the doorsteps and sidewalks, and chattering, singing, quarrelling the while with their neighbours, or with otherearly ministers to the city's domestic wants. 

These noises had never before made any impression on him. "I am morealive than ever I was in my life, " he said; and he laughed gayly, andwent to the window. "It is a lovely day; and that is so much in myfavour, " he added, "for if it were raining, Cornelia would not leave thehouse. " Then a big man, with a voice like a bull of Bashan, went downthe opposite side of the street, shouting as he went--"Milk Ho!" andHyde considered him. He had a heavy wooden yoke across his shoulders;and large tin pails, full of milk, hanging from it. 

"How English we are!" he exclaimed, with a touch of irony. "We have notthrown off the yoke, by any means--at Mr. Adams', for instance, I couldbelieve myself in England. How exclusive is the pompous little Minister!What respect for office! What adoration for landed gentry! Whatsupercilious tolerance for tradesmen! Oh, indeed, it confounds me! Butwhy should I trouble myself? I, who have the most adorable mistress inthe world to think about! What are the kings, presidents, ministers, knaves of the world to me? Let Destiny shuffle them back and forth. I amindifferent to whichever is trumps. "

Then he fell into a reverie about his proposed visit to Mrs. Adams. Lastnight it had appeared to him an easy and natural thing to do. He was notso sure of his position this morning. Mr. Adams might be present; he waspunctilious in the extreme, and a call without an invitation at thatearly hour might be considered an impertinence--especially if he had noopportunity to enlighten Mrs. Adams about his love for Miss Moran, andso ask her assistance. Then he began to doubt whether his mother was onsufficient terms of intimacy to warrant his speaking about the swans andlaburnum seeds--in short, the visit that had seemed so natural andproper when he first conceived it, assumed, on reflection, an aspect ofdifficulty and almost of impropriety. 

But there are times when laissez-aller carries all before it, and Hydewas in just such a mood. "I'll run the chance, " he said. "I'll risk it. I'll let things take their course. " Then he began to dress, and as doubtof any kind is best ended by action, he gathered confidence as he didso. Fortunately, there was no hesitation this morning in his mind abouthis dress. He was going to ride to Richmond Hill, and he was quitesatisfied with his riding suit. He knew that it was the next thing to abecoming uniform. He knew that he looked well in it; and he rememberedwith complaisance that it was old enough to be individual; and newenough to be handsome and striking. 

And, after all, when a man is in love, to be reasonable is often to becowardly. But Hyde was no coward; so then, it was not long ere he putall fears and doubts behind him and set his musings to the assertion: "Isaid to my heart, last night, that I would meet Cornelia at RichmondHill this morning. I will not go back on my word. Such fluctuability isonly fit for failure. "

When he was dressed he went to his hotel and breakfasted there; for the"cup of coffee" he had intended to ask of Mrs. Adams appeared, now, alittle presumptuous. In the enthusiasm of the previous night, withCornelia's smiles warming his imagination and her words thrilling hisheart, everything had seemed possible and natural; but last night andthis morning were different epochs. Last night, he had been better, stronger than himself; this morning, he felt all the limitations ofsocial conveniences and tyrannies. Early as it was, there were manymembers and senators present--eating, drinking coffee, and talking ofFranklin, or of the question of the Senate sitting with closed doors, orof some other of the great little subjects then agitating society. Hydetook no notice of any of these disputes until a man--evidently anEnglishman--called Franklin "a beggar-on-horseback-Yankee. " Then he putdown his knife and fork, and looked steadily at the speaker, saying withthe utmost coolness and firmness--

"You are mistaken, sir. The beggar-on-horseback is generally supposed toride to the devil. Franklin rode to the highest posts of politicalhonour and to the esteem and affection of worthy men in all thecivilized world. "

"I understand, I understand, sir, " was the reply. "The infatuation of anation for some particular genius or leader is very like that of a manfor an ugly woman. When they do get their eyes opened, they wonder whatbewitched them. "

"Sir, what is unreasonable is irrefutable. " With these words he rose, pushed aside his chair with a little temper, and, turning, met Jeffersonface to face. The great man smiled, and put his hand affectionately onHyde's shoulder. He had evidently heard the conversation, for when hehad made the usual greetings, he added--

"You spoke well, my young friend. Now, I will give you a piece ofadvice--when any one abuses a great man in your presence, ask them whatkind of people, THEY admire. You will certainly be consoled. " With thesewords he took Hyde's chair; and Hyde, casting his eyes a moment on thistall, loose-limbed man, whose cold blue eyes and red hair emphasized thestern anger of his whole appearance, was well disposed to leave thescurrilous Englishman to his power of reproof. Besides, the badge ofmourning which Jefferson wore had reminded him of his own neglect. Probably, it was the want of this badge that had made the strangerbelieve he was speaking to one who would sympathize with his views. 

So he went at once to his tailor's and procured the necessary band ofcrape for his arm. But these events took time, and though he rode hardafterwards, it was quite half-past nine when he drew rein at the door ofRichmond Hill. A slave in a fine livery was lounging there; and he gavehim his card. In a few moments the man returned with an invitation todismount and come into the breakfast-room. Thus far, he had sufferedhimself to be carried forward by the impulse of his heart; and he stillput firmly down any wonder as to what he should say or do. 

He was shown into a bright little parlour with open windows. A table, elegantly and plentifully spread, occupied the centre of the room; andsitting at it were the Vice-President and Mrs. Adams; and also theironly daughter, the beautiful, but not very intellectual, Mrs. Smith. Itwas easy to see that the meal was really over, and that the trio hadbeen simply lingering over the table because of some interestingdiscussion; and it was quite as easy to understand that his entrance hadput an end to the conversation. Mrs. Adams met him with genuine, thoughformal, kindness; Mrs. Smith with courtesy; and the Vice-President rose, bowed handsomely, hoped he was well, and then after a minute'sreflection said--

"We were talking about the official title proper for General Washington. What do you think, Lieutenant? Or have you heard General Hyde expressany opinion on the subject?"

"Sir, I do not presume to understand the ceremonials of government. Myfather is of the opinion, that 'The President of the United States' hasa Roman and republican simplicity, and that any addition to it would bederogatory and childish. "

"My dear young man, the eyes of the world are upon us. To give a titleto our leaders and rulers belongs to history. In the Roman republicgreat conquerors assumed even distinctive titles, as well as nationalones. "

"Then our Washington is superior to them. Let us be grateful that he hasnot yet called himself--Americanus. I like Doctor Kunz's idea ofWashington best, but I see not how it could be put into a civil title. "

"Doctor Kunz! Doctor Kunz! Oh yes, of the Dutch congregation. Pray whatis it?"

"'And there came up a lion out of Judah. ' My grandfather is an elder inthat church, and he said the verse and the sermon on it lifted thepeople to their feet. "

"That might do very well for one side of a state seal; but it is aproper prefix we need. I don't think we can say 'Your Majesty thePresident. '"

"I should think not, " replied Mrs. Adams with an air of decision. 

"Chief Justice McKean thinks 'His Serene Highness the President of theUnited States' is very suitable. Roger Sherman is of the opinion thatneither 'His Highness' nor 'His Excellency' are novel and dignifiedenough; and General Muhlenberg says Washington himself is in favour of'High Mightiness, ' the title used by the Stadtholder of Holland. "

"That would please the Dutch-Americans, " said Mrs. Adams--" if a titleat all is necessary, which I confess I cannot understand. Is it to be'High Mightiness' then?" she asked with a little laugh. 

"I think not. Muhlenberg, however, has seriously offended the Presidentby making a joke of the proposition; and I must say, it was ill-timed ofMuhlenberg, and not what I should have expected of him. "

"But what was the joke?"

"Something to the effect that if the office was certain to be held bymen as large as Washington, the title of 'High Mightiness' would not beamiss; but that if a little man--say like Aaron Burr--should be elected, the title would be a ridiculous one. The fact is, Muhlenberg is againstany title whatever but that of 'President of the United States. '"

"And how will you vote, John?"

"In favour of a title. Certainly, I shall. Your Majesty is a very goodprefix. It would draw the attention of England, and show her that wewere not afraid to assume 'the majesty' of our conquest. "

"And if you wish to please France, " continued Mrs. Adams--"which seemsthe thing in fashion--you might have the prefix 'Citizen. ' 'CitizenWashington' is not bad. "

"It is execrable, Mrs. Adams; and I am ashamed that you should make it, even as a pleasantry. "

"Indeed, my friend, there is no foretelling what may be. The Frenchfever is rising every day. I even may be compelled to drop the offensive'Mistress' and call myself Citoyenne Adams. And, after all, I do believethat the President regards his citizenship far above his office. Whatsay you, Lieutenant?"

"I think, madame, that fifty, one hundred, one thousand years after thisday, it will be of little importance what prefix is put before the nameof the President. He will be simply GEORGE WASHINGTON in every heart andon every page. "

"That is true, " said Mrs. Adams. "Fame uses no prefixes. It is Pompey, Julius Caesar, Pericles, Alfred, Hampden, Oliver Cromwell. Or it is asuffix like Alexander the Great; or Richard Coeur-de-Lion. I have noobjection to Washington the Great, or Washington Coeur-de-Lion. "

"Washington will do for love and for fame, " continued Hyde. "The nextgeneration may say MR. Madison, or MR. Monroe, or MR. Jay; but they willwant neither prefix nor suffix to Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, --and, if you permit me, sir--Adams. "

The Vice-president was much pleased. He said "Pooh! Pooh!" and stood upand stepped loftily across the hearth-rug, but the subtle complimentwent warm to his heart, and the real worth of the man's nature camestraight to the front, as he looked, under its influence, the honest, positive, honourable gentleman that every great occasion found him tobe. 

"Well, well, " he answered; "heartily, and from our souls, we must do ourbest, and then trust to Truth and Time, our name and our memory. But Imust now go to town--our affairs give us no holidays. " And theninstantly the room was in a fuss and a flurry. No Englishman could havemade a more bustling exit; and, indeed, even in his physical aspect, John Adams was a perfect picture of the traditional John Bull. Hisnatural temperament carried out this likeness: high-mettled as a game-cock during the Revolutionary war, he was, in politics, passionate, dogmatic and unconciliating, and in social life ceremonious and showy asany Englishman could be. 

After he had gone, Mrs. Adams proposed a walk in the lovely garden; andHyde hoped then to obtain a few words with her. But Mrs. Smithaccompanied them, and introduced immediately a grievance she hadevidently been previously discussing. With a provoking petulance shetold and re-told some slight which Sir John Temple had offered Mr. Smith: adding always "Lady Temple is very civil to me; but I cannot, andI will not, exchange visits with any lady who does not pay my William anequal civility. " Enlarging and enlarging on this text, Hyde found noopportunity to get a word in on his own affairs; and then, suddenly, asthey turned into the main avenue, Doctor Moran and Cornelia appeared. 

Quite as suddenly, Mrs. Adams divined the motive of Hyde's early visit;she opened her eyes wide, and looked at him with a comprehension soclear and real that Hyde was compelled to answer, and acknowledge hersuspicion by a look and movement quite as unequivocal. Yet thisinstantaneous understanding contained neither promise nor sympathy; andhe could not tell whether he had gained a friend or simply made aconfession. 

Doctor Moran was evidently both astonished and annoyed. He stepped outof his carriage and joined Mrs. Adams but kept Cornelia by his side, sothat Hyde was compelled to escort Mrs. Smith. And Cornelia, beyond avery civil "Good-morning, sir, " gave him no sign. He could watch herslight, virginal figure, and the bend of her head in answering Mrs. Adams gave him transient glimpses of her fair face; but there was nomessage in all its changes for him. In fact, in spite of Mrs. Smith'slittle rill of social complaining, he felt quite "out" of the innercircle of the company's interests, and he was also deeply mortified atCornelia's apparent indifference. 

When the party reached the steps before the house door, though Mrs. Adams certainly invited him to remain, he had come to the conclusionthat he was just the one person NOT wanted at that time; yet as he hadplenty of self-command he completely hid beneath a gay and charmingmanner the chagrin and disappointment that were really tormenting him. For one moment he caught Cornelia's eyes, but his glance was too rapidand inquisitive. She was embarrassed, and a little frightened by it; andwith a deep blush turned towards Mrs. Smith and said something trivialabout the weather and the fine view. He could not understand thisattitude. Feelings of tenderness, anger, mortification, --feelings strongand threefold crowded his beating heart and vivid brain. He longed toset his restless thoughts to rapid movement--to gallop--to ejaculate--todo any foolish thing that would relieve his sense of vexation anddefeat. But until he was out of sight and hearing he rode slowly, withthe easy air of a man who was only sensitive to the beauty of hissurroundings, and thoroughly enjoying them. 

He kept this pace till quite outside the precincts of Richmond Hill, then he struck his horse with a passion that astonished the animal andthe next moment shamed himself. He stooped instantly and apologized tothe quivering creature; and was as instantly forgiven. Then he began totalk to himself in those elliptical, unfinished sentences, which theinner man understands, and so thoroughly finishes--" If I were notmorally sure--It is as plain as can be--How in the name of wonder?--I'llsay so much for myself--I am sorry that I went there--A couple ofuninteresting women--This for you, sir!--Whistled myself up this morningon a fool's errand--No more! no more to save my life!--Grant mepatience--Mrs. Smith giving herself a parcel of airs--Oh, adorableCornelia!"

Such reflections, blended with pet names and apologies to his horse, brought him in sight of the Van Heemskirk house, and he instantly felthow good his grandmother's sympathy would be. He saw her at the door, leaning over the upper-half and watching his approach. 

"I knew it was thee!" she cried; "always, the clatter of thy horse'shoofs says plainly to me, 'Grand-moth-er! grand-moth-er! grand-moth-er!'Now, then, what is the matter with thee? Disappointed, wert thou lastnight?"

"No--but this morning I have been badly used; and I am angry at it. "Then he told her all the circumstances of his visit to Richmond Hill, and she listened patiently, as was her way with all complainers. 

"In too great haste art thou, " were her first words. "No worse I thinkof Cornelia, because a little she draws back. To want, and to have thywant, that has been the way with thee all thy life long. Even thy swordand the battlefield were not denied thee; but a woman's love!--that isto be won. Little wouldst thou value it, lightly wouldst thou hold it, if it were thine for the wishing. Thy mother has taught thee to expecttoo much. "

"And my grandmother?"

"That is so. A very foolish old woman is thy grandmother. Too much sheloves thee, or she had not sent thee to Arenta's last night with herbest ivory winders. "

"Oh, Arenta is a very darling! Had she been present this morning, shehad taken the starch out of all our fine talk and fine manners. Weshould have chattered like the swallows about pleasant homely things;and left title-making to graver fools. "

"If, now, thou had fallen in love with Arenta, it had been a goodthing. "

"If I had not seen Cornelia, I might have adored Arenta--but, then, Arenta has already a lover. "

"So? And pray who is it?"

"Of all men in the world, the gay, handsome Frenchman, AthanaseTounnerre, a member of the French embassy. How a girl so plainly Dutchcan endure the creature confounds me. "

"Stop a little. The grandmother of Arenta was French. Very well Iremember her--a girl all alive, from head to foot; never still. Thygrandfather used to say, 'In her veins is quick-silver, not blood, ' And, too soon, she wore away her life; Arenta's mother was but a baby, whenshe died. "

"Ah! So it is! We are the past, as well as the present. As for myself--"

"Thou art thy father over again; only sweeter, and better--that is theDutch in thee--the happy, easy-going Dutch--if only thou wert not solazy. "

"That is the English in me--the self-indulgent, masterful English. Sothen, Arenta, being partly French, back to the French she goes. 'Tispassing strange. "

"Of this, art thou sure?"

"I have listened to the man. Every one has. He wears Arenta's name onhis sleeve. He drinks her health in all companies. He will talk to anystranger he meets, for an hour at a time, about his 'fair Arenta. ' I canbut wonder at the fellow. It is inconceivable to me; for though I ampassionately taken with Cornelia Moran, I hide her close in my heart. Ishould want to strike any man who breathed her name. Yet it is said ofAthanase de Tounnerre that he paid a visit to every one he knew, inorder to tell them of his felicity. "

"And her father? To such a marriage what will he say?"

Hyde stretched out his legs and struck them lightly with his ridingwhip. Then, with a smile, he answered, "He will be proud enough in hisheart. Arenta would certainly leave him soon, and the Dutch are verysensible to the charm of a title. His daughter, the Marquise deTounnerre, will be a very great woman in his eyes. "

"That is the truth. I was glad for thy mother to be a lady, and go toCourt, and see the Queen. Yes, indeed! in my heart I was proud of it'Twas about that very thing poor Janet Semple and I became unfriends. "

"Indeed, it is the common failing; and at present, there is no one likethe French. I will except the President, and Mr. Adams, and Mr. Hamilton, and say the rest of us are French mad. "

"Thy grandfather, and thy grandmother too, thou may except. And as forthy father, with a great hatred he names them. "

"My father is English; and the English and French are natural andsalutary enemies. I once heard Lord Exmouth say that France was toEngland all that Carthage was to Rome--the natural outlet for the temperof a people so quarrelsome that they would fight each other if they hadnot the French to fight. "

"Listen! That is thy father's gallop. Far off, I know it. So early inthe morning, what is he coming for?"

"He had an intention to go to Mr. Semple's funeral. "

"That is good. Thy grandfather is already gone--" and she looked sopointedly down at her black petticoat and bodice, that Hyde answered--

"Yes; I see that you are in mourning. Is it for Mr. Franklin, or for Mr. Semple?"

"Franklin was far off; by my fireside Alexander Semple often sat; and atmy table often he ate. Good friends were we once--good friends are wenow; for all but Love, Death buries. "

At this moment General Hyde entered the room. Hurry and excitement werein his face, though they were well controlled. He gave his hand toMadame Van Heemskirk, saying--

"Good-morning, mother! You look well, as you always do:"--then turningto his son and regarding the young man's easy, smiling indifference, hesaid with some temper, "What the devil, George, are you doing here, soearly in the day? I have been through the town seeking you--everywhere--even at that abominable Club, where Frenchmen and vagabonds of all kindscongregate. "

"I was at the Vice-President's, sir, " answered George, with a comicalassumption of the Vice-President's manner. 

"You were WHERE?"

"At Richmond Hill. I made an early call on Mrs. Adams. "

Then General Hyde laughed heartily. "You swaggering dandy!" he replied. "Did you take a bet at the Belvedere to intrude on His Loftiness? Andhave you a guinea or two on supping a cup of coffee with him? Upon myhonour, you must now be nearly at the end of your follies. Mother, whereis the Colonel?"

"He has gone to Elder Semple's house. You know--"

"I know well. For a long time I have purposed to call on the oldgentleman, and what I have neglected I am now justly denied. I meant, atleast, to pay him the last respect; but even that is to-day impossible. For I must leave for England this afternoon at five o'clock, and I havemore to do than I can well accomplish. "

George leaped to his feet at these words. Nothing could have been moreunexpected; but that is the way with Destiny, her movements are everunforeseen and inevitable. "Sir, " he cried, "what has happened?"

"Your uncle is dying--perhaps dead. I received a letter this morningurging me to take the first packet. The North Star sails this afternoon, and I do not wish to miss her, for she flies English colours, and theyare the only ones the Barbary pirates pretend to respect. Now, George, you must come with me to Mr. Hamilton's office; we have much business toarrange there; then, while I pay a farewell visit to the President, youcan purchase for me the things I shall require for the voyage. "

So far his manner had been peremptory and decided, but, suddenly, asweet and marvellous change occurred. He went close to Madame VanHeemskirk, and taking both her hands, said in a voice full of thosetones that captivate women's hearts--

"Mother! mother! I bid you a loving, grateful farewell! You have everbeen to me good, and gentle, and wise--the very best of mothers. Godbless you!" Then he kissed her with a solemn tenderness, and Lysbetunderstood that he believed their parting to be a final one. She satdown, weeping, and Hyde with an authoritative motion of the head, commanding his son's attendance, went hastily out. It was then eleveno'clock, and there was business that kept both men hurrying here andthere until almost the last hour. It had been agreed that they were tomeet at the City Hotel at four o'clock; and soon after that hour GeneralHyde joined his son. He looked weary and sad, and began immediately tocharge George concerning his mother. 

"We parted with kisses and smiles this morning, " he said; "and I am gladof it; if I went back, we should both weep; and a wet parting is not alucky one. I leave her in your charge, George; and when I send her wordto come to England, look well to her comfort. And be sure to come withher. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. "

"On no account--even if she wishes it--permit her to come alone. Promiseme. "

"I promise you, sir. What is there that I would not do for my mother?What is there I would not do to please you, sir?"

"Let me tell you, George, such words are very sweet to me. As toyourself, I do not fear for you. It is above, and below reason, that youshould do anything to shame your kindred, living or dead--the livingindeed, you might reconcile; the dead are implacable; and theirvengeance is to be feared. "

"I fear not the dead, and I love the living. The honour of Hyde is safein my keeping. If you have any advice to give me, sir, pray speakplainly. "

"With all my soul. I ask you, then, to play with some moderation. I askyou to avoid any entanglement with women. I ask you to withdrawyourself, as soon as possible, from those blusterers for French liberty--or rather French license, robbery, and assassination--I tell you thereis going to be a fierce national fracas on the subject. Stand by thePresident, and every word he says. Every word is sure to be wise andright. "

"Father, I learnt the word 'Liberty' from your lips. I drew my swordunder your command for 'Liberty. ' I know not how to discard an idea thathas grown into my nature as the veining grows into the wood. "

"Liberty! Yes; cherish it with your life-blood. But France has pollutedthe name and outraged the idea. Neither you nor I can wish to be sweptinto the common sewers, being by birth, nobles and aristocrats. EarlStanhope, who was heart and soul with the French Revolution while it wasa movement for liberty, has just scratched his name with his own handfrom the revolutionary Club. And Burke, who was once its mostenthusiastic defender, has now written a pamphlet which has given it, inEngland, a fatal blow. This news came in my letters to-day. " Then takingout his watch, he rose, saying, "Come, it is time to go to the ship--MYDEAR GEORGE!"

George could not speak. He clasped his father's hand, and then walked byhis side to Coffee House Slip, where the North Star was lying. There wasno time to spare, and the General was glad of it; for oh, these lastmoments! Youth may prolong them, but age has lost youth's rebound, andwillingly escapes their disintegrating emotion. Before either realizedthe fact, the General had crossed the narrow plank; it was quicklywithdrawn; the anchor was lifted to the chanty of "Homeward bound boys, "and the North Star, with wind and tide in her favour, was facing thegreat separating ocean. 

George turned from the ship in a maze. He felt as if his life had beencut sharply asunder; at any rate, its continuity was broken, and whatother changes this change might bring it was impossible to foresee. Inany extremity, however, there is generally some duty to do; and thedoing of that duty is the first right step onward. Without reasoning onthe matter, George followed this plan. He had a letter to deliver to hismother; it was right that it should be delivered as soon as possible;and indeed he felt as if her voice and presence would be the best of allcomfort at that hour; so late as it was, he rode out to Hyde Manor. Hismother, with a lighted candle in her hand, opened the door for him. 

"I thought it was thy father, Joris, " she said; "but what? Is thereanything wrong? Why art thou alone?"

"There is nothing wrong, dear mother. Come, I will tell you what hashappened. "

Then she locked the door carefully, and followed her son into the smallparlour, where she had been sitting. He gave her his father's letter, and assumed for her sake, the air of one who has brought good tidings. She silently read, and folded it; and George said, "It was the mostfortunate thing, the North Star being ready for sea. Father could hardlyhave had a better boat; and they started with wind and tide in theirfavour. We shall hear in a few weeks from him. Are you not pleased, mother?"

"It is too late, Joris;--twenty years too late. And I wish not to go toEngland. Very unhappy was I in that cold, grey country. Very happy am Ihere. "

"But you must have expected this change?"

"Not until your cousin died was there any thought of such a thing. Andlong before that, we had built and begun to love dearly this home. Iwish, then, it had been God's will that your cousin had not died. "

"My father--"

"Ah, Joris, your father has always longed in his heart for England. Likea weaning babe that never could be weaned was he. In many ways, he haslately shown me that he felt himself to be a future English earl. Andthou too? Wilt thou become an Englishman? Then this fair home I havemade for thee will forget thy voice and thy footstep. Woe is me! I haveplanted and planned, for whom I know not. "

"You have planned and planted for your Joris. I swear to you that I likeEngland as little as you do. I despise the tomfoolery of courts andceremonies. I count an earl no better than any other honourablegentleman. I desire most of all to marry the woman I love, and live herein the home that reminds me of you wherever I turn. I want your likenesson the great stairway, and in all the rooms; so that those who may neversee your face may love you; and say, 'How good she looks! How beautifulshe is!'"

"So true art thou! So loving! So dear to me! Even in England I can behappy if I think of thee Here--filling these big rooms with goodcompany; riding, shooting, over thine own land, fishing in thy ownwaters, telling thy boys and girls how dear grandmother had this ponddug--this hedge planted--these woods filled with game--these streams setwith willows--these summerhouses built for pleasure. Oh, I have thoughtever as I worked, I shall leave my memory here--and here--and hereagain--for never, Joris, never, dear Joris, while thou art in thisworld, must thou forget me!"

"Never! Never, oh never, dear, dear mother!"

And that night they said no more. Both felt there would be plenty oftime in the future to consider whatever changes it might have in storefor them. 

CHAPTER VI

AUNT ANGELICA

The first changes referred especially to Hyde's life, and were notaltogether approved by him. His pretence of reading law had to beabandoned, for he had promised to remain at home with his mother, and itwould not therefore be possible for him to dawdle about Pearl Street andMaiden Lane watching for Cornelia. But he had that happy and fortunatetemper that trusts to events; and also, he soon began to realize that ifcircumstances alter cases, they also alter feelings. 

For, looking upon Hyde Manor as the future home of himself and his wife--and that wife, happily, Cornelia--he found it very easy to take analmost eager interest in all that concerned its welfare and beauty. "Howgood! How unselfish he is!" thought his mother. "Never before has hebeen so ready to listen and so willing to please me. " But, really, thework soon became delightful to him. The passion for land and for itsimprovement--the ruling passion of an Englishman--was not absent inGeorge; it was only latent, and the idea of home, of his own personalhome, developed it with amazing rapidity. He was soon able to makeexcellent suggestions to his mother; for her ideas, beautiful enough inthe cultivation of flat surfaces, did not embody the granderpossibilities of the higher lands near the river. But George saw everyadvantage, and with great ability directed his little gang of labourersamong the rocks and woody crags of the yet unplanted wilderness. 

In spite of their anxiety about the General, in spite of George'slonging to see Cornelia, these early summer days, with their glory ofsunshine and shade and their miracles of growth, were very happy days;though madame reached her happiness by putting the future quite out ofher thoughts, and George reached his by anticipating the future as thefruition of the present. Never since his early boyhood had madame andher son been so near and so dear to each other; for her brother-in-law'sprobable death and her husband's dangerous journeying released her fromsocial engagements, and permitted her to spend her time in theemployments and the companionship she loved best of all. 

George, while accepting for himself the same partial seclusion, had morefreedom. He rode into town three or four times every week; got the newsof the clubs and the streets; loitered about Maiden Lane and theshopping district; and when disappointed and vexed at events went to hisGrandmother Van Heemskirk for sympathy. For, as yet, he hesitated aboutnaming Cornelia to his mother. He was sure she was aware of his passion, and her reticence on the subject made him fear she was going to advocatethe fulfilment of his father's promise. And he had such a singulardelicacy about the girl he loved that he could not endure the thought ofbandying her name about in an angry discussion. Added to this fine sensewas an adoring love for his mother. She was in anxiety enough, and wouldbe, until she heard of her husband's safety; why, then, should he addhis anxiety to hers?

Yet he was not happy about Cornelia. Since that unfortunate morning atRichmond Hill they had never met. If she saw him go up or down MaidenLane, she made no sign. Several times Arenta's face at her parlourwindow had given him a passing hope; but Arenta's own love affairs werejust then at a very interesting point; and, besides, she regarded theyoung Lieutenant's admiration for her friend as only one of his manytransient enthusiasms. 

"If there was anything real in it, " she reflected, "Cornelia would havetalked about him; and that she has never done. " Then she began toremember, with pride, the very sensible behaviour of her own lover. "MyAthanase, " she reflected, "did not give me an hour's rest until we wereengaged. He insisted on talking to father about our marriage settlementsand our future--in fact, he made of love a thing possible and practical. A lover like Joris Hyde is not, I think, very fortunate. "

She did not understand that the quality of love in its finest revelationdesires, after its first sweet inception, a little period of withdrawal--it wonders at its strange happiness--broods over it--is fearful ofdisturbing emotions so exquisite--prefers the certainty of its delicioussuspense to a more definite understanding, and finds a keen strangedelight in its own poignant anxieties and hopes. These are the birthpangs of an immortal love--of a love that knows within itself, that itis born for Eternity, and need not to hurry the three-score-and-tenyears of time to a consummation. 

Of such noble lineage was the love of Cornelia for Joris Hyde. Hisgracious, beautiful youth, seemed a part of her own youth; his ardent, tender glances had filled her heart with a sweet trouble that she didnot understand. It was the most natural thing in the world that sheshould wish to be apart; that she should desire to brood over feelingsso strangely happy; and that in this very brooding they should grow tothe perfect stature of a luminous and unquenchable affection. 

Joris was moved by a sentiment of the same kind, though in a lesserdegree. The masculine desire to obtain, and the delightful consciousnessthat he possessed, at least, the tremendous advantage of asking for thelove he craved, roused him from the sweet torpor to which delicious, dreamy love had inclined him. 

"I have thought of Cornelia long enough, " he said one delightful summermorning; "with all my soul I now long to see her. And it is not animpossible thing I desire. In short, there is some way to compass it. "Then a sudden, invincible persuasion of success came to him; he believedin his own good fortune; he had a conviction that the very starsconnived with a true lover to work his will. And under this enthusiasmhe galloped into town, took his horse to a stable, and then walkedtowards Maiden Lane. 

In a few moments he saw Arenta Van Ariens. She was in a mist of blue andwhite, with flowing curls, and fluttering ribbons; and a general air ofhappiness. He placed himself directly in her path, and doffed his beaverto the ground as she approached. 

"Well, then, " she cried, with an affected air of astonishment, "whowould have thought of seeing you? Your retirement is the talk of thetown. "

"And pray what does the town say?"

"Some part of it says you have lost your fortune at cards; another partsays you have lost your heart and got no compensation for it. 'Tisstrange to see the folly of young people of this age, " she added, with alittle pretended sigh of superior wisdom. 

"As if you, also, had not lost your heart!" exclaimed Hyde. 

"No, sir! I have exchanged mine for its full value. Where are yougoing?"

"With you. "

"In a word, no. For I am going to Aunt Angelica's. "

"Upon my honour, it is to your Aunt Angelica's I desire to go most ofall!"

"Now I understand. You have found out that Cornelia Moran is goingthere. Are you still harping on that string? And Cornelia never said oneword to me. I do not approve of such deceit. In my love affairs I havealways been open as the day. "

"I assure you that I did NOT know Miss Moran was going there. I had nota thought of Madame Jacobus until we met. To tell the very truth, I cameinto town to look for you. "

"For me? And why, pray?"

"I want to see Miss Moran. If I cannot see her, then I want to hearabout her. I thought you, of all people, could tell me the most and thebest. I assured myself that you had infinite good temper. Now, pray donot disappoint me. "

"Listen! We meet this afternoon at my aunt's, to discuss the dresses andceremonies proper for a very fine wedding. "

"For your own wedding, in fact--Is not that so?"

"Well, then?"

"Well, then, who knows more on that subject than Joris Hyde? Was I not, last year, at Lady Betty Somer's splendid nuptials; and at FannyPaget's, and the Countess of Carlisle's? Indeed, I maintain that in sucha discussion _I_ am an absolute necessity. And I wish to know MadameJacobus. I have long wished to know her. Upon my honour, I think her tobe one of the most interesting women in New York!"

"I will advise you a little. Save your compliments until you can saythem to my aunt. I never carry a word to any one. "

"Then take me with you, and I will repeat them to her face. "

"So? Well, then, here we are, at her very door. I know not what she willsay--you must make your own excuses, sir. "

As she was speaking, they ascended the white steps leading to a veryhandsome brick house on the west side of Broadway. It had wide ironpiazzas and a fine shady garden at the back, sloping down to the riverbank; and had altogether, on the outside, the very similitude of awealthy and fashionable residence. The door was opened by a very darkman, who was not a negro, and who was dressed in a splendid andoutlandish manner--a scarlet turban above his straight black hair, andgold-hooped earrings, and a long coat or tunic, heavily embroidered instrange devices. 

"He was an Algerine pirate, " whispered Arenta. "My Uncle Jacob broughthim here--and my aunt trusts him--I would not, not for a moment. "

As soon as the front door closed, Joris perceived that he was in anunusual house. The scents and odours of strange countries floated aboutit. The hall contained many tall jars, full of pungent gums and roots;and upon its walls the weapons of savage nations were crossed in idleand harmless fashion. They went slowly up the highly polished stairwayinto a large, low parlour, facing the vivid, everyday business drama ofBroadway; but the room itself was like an Arabian Night's dream, for theEastern atmosphere was supplemented by divans and sofas covered withrare cashmere shawls, and rugs of Turkestan, and with cushions of allkinds of oriental splendour. Strange tables of wonderful mosaic workheld ivory carvings of priceless worth; and porcelain from unknownlands. Gods and goddesses from the yellow Gehenna of China and theutterable idolatry of India, looked out with brute cruelty, orsempiternal smiles from every odd corner; or gazed with a fascinatingprescience from the high chimney-piece upon all who entered. 

The effect upon Hyde was instantaneous and uncanny. His Saxon-Dutchnature was in instant revolt against influences so foreign andunnatural. Arenta was unconsciously in sympathy with him; for she saidwith a shrug of her pretty shoulders, as she looked around, "I havealways bad dreams after a visit to this room. Do these things have alife of their own? Look at the creature on that corner shelf! What aserene disdain is in his smile! He seems to gaze into the very depths ofyour soul. I see that there is a curtain to his shrine; and I shall takeleave to draw it. " With these words she went to the scornful divinity, and shut his offending eyes behind the folds of his gold-embroideredcurtain. 

Hyde watched her flitting about the strange room, and thought of alittle brown wren among the poisonous, vivid splendours of tropicalswamp flowers. So out of place the pretty, thoughtless Dutch girl lookedamong the spoils of far India, and Central America, and of Arabian andAfrican worship and workmanship. But when the door opened, and MadameJacobus, with soft, gliding footsteps entered, Hyde understood how trulythe soul, if given the wherewithal, builds the habitation it likes best. Once possessed of marvellous beauty, and yet extraordinarilyinteresting, she seemed the very genius of the room and its strange, suggestive belongings. She was unusually tall, and her figure had keptits undulating, stately grace. Her hair, dazzlingly white, was piledhigh above her ample brow, held in place with jewelled combs andglittering pins. Her face had lost its fine oval and youthful freshness, but who of any feeling or intelligence would not have far preferred theworn countenance, expressing in a thousand sensitive shades and emotionsthe story of her life and love? And if every other beauty had failed, Angelica's eyes would have atoned for the loss. They were large, softly-black, slow-moving, or again, in a moment, flashing with the fire thatlay hidden in the dark pit of the iris. 

It was said that her slaves adored her, and that no man who came withinher influence had been able to resist her power--no man, perhaps, butCaptain Jacobus; and he had not resisted, he had been content toexercise over her a power greater than her own. He had made her hiswife; he had lavished on her for ten years the spoils of the fourquarters of the world; and his worship of her had only been equalled byher passionate attachment to him. Ten years of love, and then partingand silence--unbroken silence. Yet she still insisted that he was alive, and would certainly come back to her. With this faith in her heart, shehad refused to put on any symbol of loss or mourning. She kept his finehouse open, his room ready, and herself constantly adorned for his home-coming. Society, which insists on uniformity, did not approve of thisunreasonable hope. It expected her to adopt the garments of widowhoodfor a time, and then make a match in accordance with the great fortuneCaptain Jacobus had left her. But Angelica Jacobus was a law untoherself; and society was compelled to take her with those apologizingshrugs it gives to whatever is original and individual. 

She came in with a smile of welcome. She was always pleased that herfine home should be seen by those strange to it; and perhaps wasparticularly pleased that General Hyde's son should be her visitor. Andas Joris was determined to win her favour, there was an almostinstantaneous birth of good-will. 

"Let me kiss your hand, madame, " said the handsome young fellow, liftingthe jewelled fingers in his own. "I have heard that my father had oncethat honour. Do not put me below him;" and with the words he touchedwith his warm lips the long white fingers. 

Her laugh rang merrily through the dim room, and she answered--"You areDick Hyde's own son--nothing else. I see that"--and she drew the youngman towards the light and looked with a steady pleasure into his smilingface as she asked--

"What brought you here this morning, sir?"

"Madame, I have heard my father speak of you; I have seen you; can youwonder that I desired to know you? This morning I met Miss Van Ariens, and when she said she was coming here, I found myself unable to resistthe temptation of coming with her. "

"Let me tell you something, aunt. I think Lieutenant Hyde can be ofgreat service to us. He took part in several noble English weddings lastyear, and he offers his advice in our consultation to-day. "

"But where is Cornelia? I thought she would come with you. "

"She will be here in a few minutes. I saw her half-an-hour ago. "

"What a beautiful girl she has become!" said madame. 

"She is an angel, " said Hyde. 

Angelica laughed. "The man who calls a woman an angel has never had anysisters, " she answered; "but, however, she has beauty enough to setyoung hearts ablaze. I like the girl, and I wonder not that others dothe same. "

Even as she spoke Cornelia entered. There was a little flush and hurryon her face; but oh, how innocent and joyous it was! Quick-glancing, sweetly smiling, she entered the musky, scented parlour, and in herwhite robe and white hat stood like a lily in its light and gloom. Andwhen she turned to Hyde an ineffable charm and beauty illumed hercountenance. "How glad I am to see you!" she said, and the very ring ofgladness was in her voice. "And how strange that we should meet here!"

"That is so, " replied Madame Jacobus. "One can never see where thesecond little bird comes from. "

"Am I late, madame? Surely your clock is wrong. "

"My clock is never wrong, Cornelia, A Dutch clock will always go justabout so. Come, now, sit down, and let us talk of such follies asweddings and wedding gowns. "

In this conversation Hyde triumphantly redeemed his promise ofassistance. He could describe with a delightful accuracy--or inaccuracy--the lovely toilets and pretty accessories of the high English weddingfeasts of the previous year. And in some subtle way he threw into thesedescriptions such a glamour of romance, such backgrounds of old castlesand chiming bells, of noble dames glittering with gems, and villagemaids scattering roses, of martial heroes, and rejoicing lovers, allmoving in an atmosphere of song and sunshine, that the little party satlistening, entranced, with sympathetic eyes drinking in his wonderfuldescriptions. 

Madame Jacobus was the first to interrupt these pretty reminiscences. "All this is very fine, " she said, "but the most of it is no good forus. The satin and the lace and even the gems, we can have; the music canbe somehow managed, and we shall not make a bad show as to love andbeauty. But castles and lords and military pomp, and old cathedrals hungwith battle flags-- Such things are not to be had here, and, in plaintruth, they are not necessary for the wedding of a simple maid like ourArenta. "

"You forget, then, that my Athanase is of almost royal descent, " saidArenta. "A very old family are the Tounnerres--older, indeed, than theroyal Capets. "

"No one is to-day so poor as to envy the royal Capets; and as for anancient family, Captain Jacobus used to speak of his forefathers as 'theold fellows whom the flood could not wash away. ' Jacobus always put hisideas in such clear, forcible words. What I want to know is this--whereis the ceremony to be performed?"

"The civil ceremony is to be at the French Embassy, " answered Arentawith some pride. 

"Is that all there is to it?"

"Aunt! How could you imagine that I should be satisfied with a civilceremony? My father also insists upon a religious ceremony; and myAthanase told him he was willing to marry me in every church in America. I am not Gertrude Kippon! No, indeed! I insist on everything being donein a moral and respectable manner. My father spoke of Doctor Kunz forthe religious part. "

"I like not Doctor Kunz, " answered madame. "Bishop Provoost and theEpiscopal service is the proper thing. Doctor Kunz will be sure to saysome sharp words--his tongue is full of them--he stands too stiff--hedoes not use his hands gracefully--his walk and carriage is notdignified--and he looks at you through spectacles--and I, for one, donot like to be looked at through spectacles. We must decide for theEpiscopal church. "

"And the little trip after it, " continued Arenta. "Lieutenant Hyde saysthat, in England, it is now the proper thing. "

"But in America it is not the proper thing. It is a rude unmannerly wayto run off with a bride. We are not red Indians, nor is the Marquiscarrying you by force from some hostile tribe. The nuptial trip is abarbarism. I am now weary. Lieutenant, take Miss Moran and show her mygarden. I tell you, it is worth walking through; and when you have seenthe flowers, Arenta and I will give you a cup of tea. "

Arenta would gladly have gone into the garden also, but her auntdetained her. "Can you not see, " she asked, "that those two are in lovewith each other? Give love its hour. They do not want your company. "

"And for that very reason I wish to go with them. My brother is in lovewith Cornelia, and I am for Rem, and not for a stranger--also, my fatherand Cornelia's father are both for Rem; and, besides, Doctor Moran hatesthe Hydes. He will not let Cornelia marry the man. "

"HE WILL NOT LET! When did Doctor John become omnipotent? Love laughsat fathers, as well as at locksmiths. And if Doctor John is againstyoung Hyde, then I shall the more cheerfully be for him--a pleasant, handsome youth as ever I saw, is he; and Doctor John--well, he isneither pleasant nor handsome. "

"Aunt Angelica! I am astonished at you! Every one will contradict whatyou say. "

"For that reason, I will maintain it. It is not my way to shout with themultitude. "

With some hesitation, yet quite carried away by Hyde's personal longingand impulse, Cornelia went into the garden with her lover. It was agreen, shady place, full of great maple-trees and flowering vines andshrubs, and patches of green grass. All kinds of sweet old-fashionedflowers grew there, mingling their scent with the strawberries' perfumeand the woody odours of the ripening cherries. They were alone in thislovely place; the high privet hedges hid them from the outside world, and the babble and rumble of Broadway came to them only as the murmur ofnoise in a dream. Speechless with joy, Hyde clasped Cornelia's slenderfingers, and they went together down the few broad low steps which ledthem into the green shadows of the trees. How soft was the grassy turf!How exquisite the westering sunlight, sifting through the maple leaves!They looked into each other's eyes and smiled, but were too happy tospeak. For they had suddenly come into that land, which is east of thesun, and west of the moon; that land not laid down on any chart, butwhich we feel to be our rightful heritage. 

Slowly, as they stepped, they came at length to a little summerhouse. Itwas covered with a thick jessamin vine; and the mysterious, languorousperfume of its starlike flowers filled the narrow resting-place with thevery atmosphere of love. They sat down there, and in a few moments theseal was broken and Hyde's heart found out all the sweetest words thatlove could speak. Cornelia trembled; she blushed, she smiled, shesuffered herself to be drawn close to his side; and, at last, in somesweet, untranslatable way, she gave him the assurance of her love. Thenthey found in delicious silence the eloquence that words wereincompetent to translate; time was forgotten, and on earth there wasonce more an interlude of heavenly harmony in which two souls became oneand Paradise was regained. 

Arenta's voice, petulant and not pleasant, broke the charm. With a sighthey rose, dropped each other's hand, and went out of their heaven onearth to meet her. 

"Tea is waiting, " she said, "and Rem is waiting, and my aunt is tired, and you two have forgotten that the clock moves. " Then they laughed, andlaughter is always fatal to feeling; the magical land of love wassuddenly far away, and there was the sound of china, and the heavy tonesof Rem's voice--dissatisfied, if not angry--and Arenta's lighter fret;and they stood once more among fetishes and forms so foreign, fabulousand fantastical, that it was difficult to pass from the land of love, and all its pure delights, into their atmosphere. 

It would have been harder but for Madame Jacobus. She understood; andshe sympathized; and there was a kindly element in her nature whichdisposed her to side with the lovers. Her smile, --quick and short as aflash of the eyes--revealed to Hyde her intention of favour, and withoutone spoken word, these two knew themselves to be of the same mind. And, in parting, she held his hand while she talked, saying at last the verywords he longed to hear--

"We shall expect you again on Thursday, Lieutenant. Everything is yetundecided, and the work you have begun, it is right that you shouldfinish. "

He answered only, "Thank you, madame!" but he accompanied the words witha look which asked so much, and confessed so much, that madame feltherself to be a silent confidante and a not unwilling accomplice. Andwhen she had closed the door on her guests, she acknowledged it. "Butthen, " she whispered, "I always did dearly love a lover; and thispromises to be a love affair that will need my help--plenty of goodhonest hatred for it to combat--and wealth and rank and all sorts ofconflicting conditions to get the better of--Well, then, my help isready. In plain truth, I don't like such perfection as Doctor John; andmy nephew Rem is not interesting. He is sulky, and Hyde is good-tempered, just like his father, too; and there never was a morefascinating man than Dick Hyde. HE-HO! I remember!--I remember!--and yetI dare say Dick has forgotten my very name--this is a marriage that willexactly suit me--I don't care who is against it!" Then she said softlyto herself--

"REM went to Cornelia as they were about to leave, and he reminded herthat, by her permission, he had come to walk home with her. 

"CORNELIA turned to Hyde, excused herself, and, cool and silent, tookher place by Rem's side. 

"HYDE accepted the position with a smile, and a gracious bow, and thenjoined Arenta. 

"ARENTA was far less agreeable than she ought to have been; for both sheand her brother had a kind of divination. They knew, in spite ofappearances, that Rem had not got the best of Joris Hyde. I am quick inmy observations, and I know this is so. Well then, it is a veryinteresting affair as it stands--and it is like to grow far moreinteresting. I am not opposed to that. I shall enjoy it. Hyde andCornelia ought to marry--and they have my good wishes. "

As for Hyde, no thought that could mar the sweetness and joy of thisfortunate hour came into his mind. Neither Rem's evident hatred, norArenta's disapproval, nor yet Cornelia's silence, troubled him. He hadwithin his heart a talisman that made everything propitious. And he wasso joyous that the people whom he passed on the street caught happinessfrom him. Men and women alike turned to look after the youth, for theyfelt the virtue of his passing presence, and wondered what it mightmean. Even the necessary parting from Cornelia was only a phase of thiswonderful gladness; for Love never fails of his token, and, thoughArenta's sharp eyes could not discover it, Hyde received the silentmessage that was meant for him, and for him only. That one thought madehis heart bound and falter with its exquisite delight--for him only--forhim only, was that swift but certain assurance; that instantaneousbright flash of love that held in it all heaven and earth, and left him, as he told himself again and again, the happiest man in all the world. 

He was hardly responsible for his actions at this hour; for when a swiftgallop brought him to the Van Heemskirk house, he quite unconsciouslystruck the door some rapid, forceful blows, with his riding whip. Hisgrandfather opened it with an angry face. 

"I thought it was thee, " he said. "Now, then, in such lordly fashion, whom didst thou summon? dog or slave, was it?"

"Oh, grandfather, I intended no harm. Did I strike so hard? Upon myword, I meant it not. "

At this moment Madame Van Heemskirk came quickly forward. She turned aface of disapproval on her husband, and asked sharply, "Why dost thoucomplain?"

"I like not my house-door struck so rudely, Lysbet. No man in allAmerica, but Joris Hyde, would dare to do it. "

At these words Joris flung himself from his horse and clasped hisgrandfather's hand. "I did wrong, " he said warmly; "but I am besidemyself with happiness; and I thought of nothing but telling you. Myheart was in such a hurry that my hands forgot how to behavethemselves. "

"So happy as that, art thou? Good! Come in, and tell us what hashappened to thee. "

But Lysbet divined the joy in her grandson's face; and she said softlyas he seated himself at the open window where his grandfather's chairwas placed--

"It is Cornelia?"

"Yes, it is Cornelia. She loves me! The most charming girl the sun evershone upon loves me. It is incredible! It is amazing! I cannot believein my good fortune. Will you assure me it is possible? I want to hearsome one say so--and who is there but my grandfather and you? I do notlike to tell my mother, just yet. What do you say?"

"I say that thou hast chosen a good girl for a wife. God bless thee, "answered Lysbet with great emotion. 

Van Heemskirk smiled, but was silent; and Hyde stooped forward, gentlymoved his long pipe away from his lips, and said, "Grandfather, speak, You know Cornelia Moran?"

"I have seen her. With thee I saw her--walking with thee--dancing withthee. A great beauty I thought her. Thy grandmother says she is good. Well, then, the love of a good, beautiful girl, is something to be gladover. Not twice in a lifetime comes such great fortune. But make up thymind to expect much opposition. Doctor John and thy father were everunfriends. Thy father has other plans for thee; Cornelia's father hasdoubtless other plans for her. Few men can stand against Doctor John; hehas the word, and the way, to carry all before him. I know not how thelittle Cornelia can dare to disobey him. "

"She has said 'yes' to me; and, before heaven and earth, she will standby it. "

"Say that much. And of thyself, art thou sure?"

"Why art thou throwing cold water on such sweet hopes?" said Lysbet toher husband. 

"Because, when love flames beyond duty and honour and all expediences, Lysbet, some one a little cold water ought to throw. And THOU will notdo it. No! Rather, would thou add fuel to the flame. "

"I know not what you mean, sir, " said Hyde, vaguely troubled by hisgrandfather's words. 

"I think thou knowest well what I mean. Thy father has told thee thatthy duty and thy honour are pledged to Annie Hyde. "

"I never pledged! Never!"

"But, as in thy baptism thy father made vows for thee, so also for thymarriage he made promises. Noble birth has responsibility, as well asprivilege. For thyself alone it is not permitted thee to live, from boththe past and the future there are demands on thee. "

"Grandfather, this living for the future is the curse of the Englishland-owners. They enjoy not the present, for they are busy taking careof the years they will never see. Their sons are in their way; it istheir grandsons and their great-grandsons that interest them. Why shouldmy father plan for my marriage? He may be Earl Hyde for twenty years--and I hope he will. For twenty years Cornelia and I can be happy here inAmerica; and twenty years is a great opportunity. Everything can happenin twenty years. Of one thing I am sure--I will marry Cornelia Moran, even if I run away with her to the ends of the earth. "

"'Run away with her. ' To be sure! That is in the blood;" and the old manlooked sternly back to the days when Hyde's father ran away with his ownlittle daughter. 

With some anger Lysbet answered his thoughts. "What art thou talkingabout? What art thou thinking of? Many good men have run away with theirwives. This almighty Doctor John ran away with his wife. Did not AvaWilling leave her father's house and her friends and her faith for him?And did not the Quakers read her out of their Meeting for her marriage?--and I blame them not. Doctor John was no match for Ava Willing. More, too, if thou must look back; remember one May night, when thou and I satby the Collect in the moonlight, and thou gave me this ring. What didthou say to me that night?"

"'Tis years ago, Lysbet, and If I have forgotten--"

"Forgotten! Well, then, men do forget; but they may be thankful that Godhas so made women that they do NOT forget. The words thou said thatnight have been singing in my heart for fifty years; and yet, if thoumust be told, some of those words were about RUNNING AWAY WITH THEE;--for, at the first, my father liked thee not. "

"Lysbet! My sweet Lysbet! I have not forgotten. For thy dear sake I willstand by Joris, though in doing so I am sure I shall make someunfriends. "

"Good, my husband. I take leave to say that thou art doing right. "

"Well, then, " said Hyde, "if my grandmother stand by me, and you also, sir; and also Madame Jacobus--"

"Madame Jacobus!" cried Lysbet. 

"Yes, indeed!" answered Hyde. "'Tis to her understanding and kindness Iowe my opportunity; and she gave me, also, one look which I cannotpretend to misunderstand--a look of clear sympathy--a look that promisedhelp. "

"She is a clever woman, " said Van Heemskirk. "If Joris has her good willit is not to be thrown away. "

"I like her not, " said Lysbet. "With my grandson, with my affairs, whyshould she meddle? Pray, now, what took thee, Joris, to her house? It isfull of idolatries and graven images. Doctor Kunz once wrote to her aletter about them. He said she ought to remember the Second Commandment. And she wrote to him a letter, and told him to trouble himself with hisown business. Much anger and shame there might have been out of this, but Angelica Jacobus is rich, and she is generous to the church, and tothe poor; and Doctor Kunz said to the elders, 'Let her alone, for thereis a savour of righteousness in her;' and when she heard of that, shewas pleased with the Doctor, and sent him one hundred dollars for theIndian Mission. But, Joris, she is no good to thee. I hear many queerstories of her. "

"Downright lies, all of them, " replied Hyde. Then he rose, saying, "Imust ride onward. My mother will not sleep until she sees me. "

"It is nearly dark, " said Van Heemskirk, "and to-night thou art in theclouds. The land and the water will be alike to thee. Rest until themorning. "

"I fear not the dark. I know the road by night or by day. "

"Yet, even so, mind what I tell thee--if thou ride in the dark, be notwiser than thy beast. "

Then they walked with him to the door, and watched him leap to hissaddle and ride into the twilight trembling over the misty meadows, trickling with dews. And a great melancholy fell over them, and theycould not resume the conversation. Joris re-lit his pipe, and Lysbetwent softly and thoughtfully about her household duties. It was one ofthose hours in which Life distills for us her vague melancholy wine; andJoris and Lysbet drank deeply of it. 

The moon was in its third day, and the silent crescent has no calmer andsweeter time; yet Joris it inclined to a sad presentiment. "In my heartthere is a fear, Lysbet, " he said softly. "I think our boy has gone aroad he will dearly rue. I foresee disputing, and wounded hearts, andlives made barren by many disappointed hopes. "

"Nothing of the kind, " answered Lysbet cheerfully. "Our little Joris isso happy to-night, why wilt thou think evil for him? To think evil is tobring evil. Out of foolishness or perchance such a great love has notcome. No, indeed! That it comes from heaven I am sure; and to heaven Iwill leave its good fortune. "

"Pleasant are thy hopes, Lysbet; but, too often, vain and foolish. "

"Thy reasoning, is it any wiser? No. Often I have found it wrong. Onething the years have said to me, it is this--'Lysbet put not thyjudgment in the place of Providence. If thou trust Providence, thou hastthe easy heart of a child of God; if thou trust to thine own judgment, thou hast the troubled heart of an anxious woman. '"

CHAPTER VII

ARENTA'S MARRIAGE

For a few weeks, Hyde's belief that the very stars would connive with atrue lover seemed a reliable one. Madame Jacobus, attracted at theirfirst meeting to the youth, soon gave him an astonishing affection. Andyet this warm love of an old woman for youth and beauty was a verynatural one--a late development of the maternal instinct leading hereven to what seemed an abnormal preference. For she put aside hernephew's claims with hardly a thought, and pleased herself day by day inso managing and arranging events that Hyde and Cornelia met, as a matterof course. Arenta was not, however, deceived; she understood everymaneuvre, but the success of her own affairs depended very much on heraunt's cooperation and generosity, and so she could not afford, at thistime, to interfere for her brother. 

"But I shall alter things a little as soon as I am married, " she toldherself. "I will take care of that. At this time I must see, and hear, and say nothing. I must act politely--for I am always polite--andAthanase also is in favour of politeness--but I take leave to say thatJoris Hyde shall not carry so much sail when a few weeks are gone by. Sohappy he looks! So pleased with himself! So sure of all he says anddoes! I am angry at him all the time. Well, then, it will be asatisfaction to abate a little the confidence of this cock-sure youngman. "

Arenta's feelings were in kind and measure shared by several otherpeople; Doctor Moran held them in a far bitterer mood; but he, also, --environed by circumstances he could neither alter nor command, --wascompelled to satisfy his disapproval with promises of a future change. For the wedding of Arenta Van Ariens had assumed a great socialimportance. Arenta herself had talked about the affair until all classeswere on the tiptoe of expectation. The wealthy Dutch families, theexclusive American set, the home and foreign diplomatic circles, werealike looking forward to the splendid ceremony, and to the greatbreakfast at Peter Van Ariens' house, and to the ball which MadameJacobus was to give in the evening. None of the younger people had everbeen in madame's fantastic ballroom, and they were eager for this entryinto her wonderful house. For their mothers--seeing things through themists of Time--had, innocently enough, exaggerated the marvels of theChinese lanterns, the feather flowers and gorgeously plumed birds, thecases of tropical butterflies and beetles, and the fascination of thepagan deities, until they were ready to listen to any tale about MadameJacobus and to swallow it like cream. 

So Doctor Moran, being physician and family friend to most of theinvited guests, had to listen to such reminiscences and anticipationswherever he went. He knew that he could not talk against the greatpublic current, and that in the excited state of social feeling it wouldbe a kind of treason even to hint disapproval of Arenta, or of any ofher friends or doings. But he suffered. He was questioned by some, hewas enlightened by others; his opinion was asked about dresses andceremonies, he was constantly congratulated on his daughter's prominenceas bridesmaid, and he was sent for professionally, that he might betalked to socially. Yet if he ventured to hint dissatisfaction, or toexpress himself by a scornful "Pooh! Pooh!" he was answered by looks ofsuch astonishment, of such quick-springing womanly suspicions, that hecould not doubt the kind of conversation which followed his exit:

"Do you think Doctor Moran VERY clever?"

"Most people think so. "

"He is so unsympathetic. Doctor Moore knows everything Madame Jacobus isgoing to have, and to do. I think doctors ought to be chatty. It is sogood for their patients to be cheered up a little. "

Doctor Moran divined perfectly this taste for gossip and MEDICINALsympathy combined, and to administer it was, to him, more nauseous thanhis own bitterest drugs. So in these days he was not a cheerful man tolive with, and Cornelia's beauty and radiant happiness affected him verymuch as Hyde's pronounced satisfaction affected Arenta. One morning, ashe was returning home after a round of disagreeable visits, he sawCornelia and Hyde coming up Broadway together. They were sauntering sideby side in all the lazy happiness of perfect love; and as he looked atthem the sorrow of an immense disillusion filled him to the lips. He hadbelieved himself, as yet, to be the first and the dearest in his child'slove; but in that moment his eyes were opened, and he felt as if he hadbeen suddenly thrust out from it and the door closed upon him. 

He did the wisest thing possible: he went home to his wife. She heardhim ride with clattering haste into the stone court, and soon afterenter the house from the back, banging every door after him. She knewthen that something had angered him--that he was in that temper whichmakes a woman cry, but which a man can only relieve by noisy or emphaticmovement of some kind. A resolute look came into her face and she saidto herself, "John has always had his own way--and my way also; butCornelia's way--the child must surely have something to say about that. "

"Where is Cornelia, Ava?" He asked the question with a quick glanceround the room, as if he expected to find her present. 

"Cornelia is not at home to-day. "

"Is she ever at home now?"

"You know that Arenta's wedding--"

"Arenta's wedding! I am tired to death of it: I have heard nothing thismorning but Arenta's wedding. Why the deuce! should my house be turnedupside down and inside out for Arenta's wedding? Women have been marriedbefore Arenta Van Ariens, and women will be married after her. What isall this fuss about?"

"You know--"

"Bless my soul! of course I know. I know one thing at least, that I havejust met Cornelia and that young fop George Hyde coming up the streettogether, as if they two alone were in the world. They never saw me, they could see nothing but themselves. "

"Men and women have done such a thing before, John, and they will do itagain. Cornelia is a beautiful girl; it is natural that she should havea lover. "

"It is very unnatural that she should choose for her lover the son of myworst enemy. "

"I am sure you wrong General Hyde. When was he your enemy? How could hebe your enemy?"

"When was he my enemy? Ever since the first hour we met. Often he triedto injure me with General Washington; often he accused me of showingpartiality to certain officers in the army; only last year he preventedmy election to the Senate by using all his influence in favour of JorisVan Heemskirk. If he has not done me more injury and more injustice, 'tis because he has not had the opportunity. And you want me to giveCornelia to his son! Yes, you do, Ava! I see it on your face. Youstretch my patience too far. Can I not see--"

"Can an angry man ever see? No, he cannot. You feed your own suspicions, John. You might just as well link Cornelia's name with Rem Van Ariens aswith Joris Hyde. She is continually in Rem's company. He is devoted toher. She cannot possibly misunderstand his looks and words, she mustperceive that he is her ardent lover. You might have seen them the lastthree evenings sitting together at that table preparing the invitationsfor the wedding breakfast and ball; arranging the cards and favours. --Sohappy! So pleasantly familiar! So confidential! I think Rem Van Arienshas as much of Cornelia's liking as George Hyde; and perhaps neither ofthem have enough of it to win her hand. All lovers do not grow tohusbands. "

"Thank God, they do not! But what you say about Rem is only cobwebstuff. She is too friendly, too pleasantly familiar, I would like to seeher more shy and silent with him. Every one has already given mydaughter to Hyde, and, say what you will, common fame is seldom toblame. "

"Dinner is waiting, John, and whether you eat it or not Destiny will gostraight to her mark. Love is destiny; and the heart is its own fate. There are those to whom we are spiritually related, and the tie iskinder than flesh and blood. Can you, or I, count such kindred? No; butsouls see each other at a glance. Did I not know thee, John, the verymoment that we met?"

She spoke softly, with a voice sweeter than music, and her husband wastouched and calmed. He took the hand she stretched out to him and kissedit, and she added--

"Let us be patient. Love has reasons that reason does not understand;and if Cornelia is Hyde's by predestination, as well as by choice, vainly we shall worry and fret; all our opposition will come to nothing. Give Cornelia this interval, and tithe it not; in a few days Arenta willhave gone away; and as for Hyde, any hour may summon him to join hisfather in England; and this summons, as it will include his mother, hecan neither evade nor put off. Then Rem will have his opportunity. "

"To be patient--to wait--to say nothing--it is to give opportunity toomuch scope. I must tell that young fellow a little of my mind--"

"You must not make yourself a town's talk, John. Just now New York isall for lovers. If you interfere between Hyde and Cornelia while it isin this temper, every one will cry out, 'Oh, the pity of it!' and youwill be bayed into doing some mad thing or other. Do I not know you, dear one?"

"God's precious!" and he took her in his arms, saying, "the man wholearns nothing from his wife will never learn anything from anybody. Come, then, and we will eat our meal. I had forgotten Rem, and as yousay, Hyde may have to go to England to-morrow; putting-off has broken upmany an ill marriage. "

"Time and absence against any love affair that is not destiny! And if itbe destiny, there is only submission, nothing else. But life has a'maybe' in everything dear; a maybe that is just as likely to please usas not. "

Then Doctor John looked up with a smile. "You are right, Ava, " he saidcheerfully. "I will take the maybe. Maybes have a deal to do with life. When you come to think of it, there is not a victory of any kind gained, nor a good deed done except on a maybe. So maybe all I fear may passlike a summer cloud. Yet, take my word for it, there is, I think, nomaybe in Rem's chances with Cornelia. "

"We shall see. I think there is. "

Certainly Rem was of this opinion. The past few weeks had been veryfavourable to him. In them he had been continually associated withCornelia, and her manner towards him had been so frankly kind andfamiliar, so confidential and sympathetic, that he could not help butcontrast it with their previous intercourse, when she had appeared towithdraw herself from all his approaches and to forbid by her retiringmanner even the courtesies to which his long acquaintance with herentitled him. 

If he had known more of women he would not have given himself any hopeon this change of attitude. It simply meant that Cornelia had arrived atthat certainty with regard to her own affections which permitted her amore general latitude. She knew that she loved Hyde, and she knew thatHyde loved her. They had a most complete confidence in each other; andshe was not afraid, either for his sake or her own, to give to Rem thatfriendship which the circumstances warranted. That this friendship couldever grow to love on her part was an impossible thing; and if shethought of Rem's feelings, it was to suppose that he must understandthis position as well as she did herself. 

Rem, however, was quite aware of his rival, and with the bluntdirectness of his nature watched with jealous dislike, and often withrude impatience, the familiar intercourse which his aunt's partialitypermitted Hyde. He was, indeed, often so rude that a less sweet-tempered, a less just youth than George Hyde would have pointedlyresented many offences that he passed by with that "noble not caring"which is often the truest courage. 

Still the situation was one of great tension, and it required not onlythe wise forbearance of Hyde and Cornelia, but the domineeringselfishness of Arenta and the suave clever diplomacies of Madame Jacobusto preserve at times the merely decent conventionalities of polite life. To keep the peace until the wedding was over--that was all that Rempromised himself; THEN! He often gave voice to this last word, though hehad no distinct idea as to what measures he included in those fourletters. 

He told himself, however, that it would be well for George Hyde to be inEngland, and that if he were there, the General might be trusted to lookafter the marriage of his son. For he knew that an English noble wouldbe of necessity bound by his caste and his connections, and that Hydewould have to face obligations he would not be able to shirk. "Then, then, his opportunity to win Cornelia would come!" And it was at thispoint the hopeful "maybe" entered into Rem's desires and anticipations. 

But wrath covered carries fate. Every one was in some measure consciousof this danger and glad when the wedding day approached. Even Arenta hadgrown a little weary of the prolonged excitement she had provoked, foreverything had gone so well with her that she had taken the public verymuch into her confidence. There had been frequent little notices in theGazette and Journal of the approaching day--of the wedding presents, thewedding favours, the wedding guests, and the wedding garments. And, asif to add the last touch of glory to the event, just a week beforeArenta's nuptials a French armed frigate came to New York bearingdespatches for the Count de Moustier; and the Marquis de Tounnerre wasselected to bear back to France the Minister's Message. So the marriagewas put forward a few days for this end, and Arenta in the mostunexpected way obtained the bridal journey which she desired; and alsowith it the advantage of entering France in a semi-public and statelymanner. 

"I am the luckiest girl in the world, " she said to Cornelia and herbrother when this point had been decided. They were tying up "dream-cake" for the wedding guests in madame's queer, uncanny drawing-room asshe spoke, and the words were yet on her lips when madame entered with asandal wood box in her hands. 

"Rem, " she said, "go with Cornelia into the dining-room a few minutes. Ihave something to say to Arenta that concerns no one else. "

As soon as they were alone madame opened the box and upon a white velvetcushion lay the string of oriental pearls which Arenta on certainoccasions had been permitted to wear. Arenta's eyes flashed withdelight. She had longed for them to complete her wedding costume, buthaving a very strong hope that her aunt would offer her this favour, shehad resolved to wait for her generosity until the last hour. Now she wasgoing; to receive the reward of her prudent patience, and she said toherself, "How good it is to be discreet!" With an intense desire andinterest she looked at the beautiful beads, but madame's face wastroubled and sombre, and she said almost reluctantly--

"Arenta, I am going to make you an offer. This necklace will be yourswhen I die, at any rate; but I think there is in your heart a wish tohave it now. Is this so?"

"Aunt, I should like--oh, indeed I long to wear the beads at mymarriage. I shall only be half-dressed without them. "

"You shall wear the necklace. And as you are going to what is left ofthe French Court, I will give it to you now, if the gift will be to yourmind. "

"There is nothing that could be more to my mind, dear aunt. I wouldrather have the necklace, than twice its money's worth. Thank you, aunt. You always know what is in a young girl's heart. "

"First, listen to what I say. No woman of our family has escapedcalamity of some kind, if they owned these beads. My mother lost herhusband the year she received them. My Aunt Hildegarde lost her fortuneas soon as they were hers. As for myself, on the very day they becamemine your Uncle Jacobus sailed away, and he has never come back. Are younot afraid of such fatality?"

"No, I am not. Things just happen that way. What power can a few beadshave over human life or happiness? To say so, to think so, isfoolishness. "

"I know not. Yet I have heard that both pearls and opals have the powerto attract to themselves the ill fortune of their wearers. If theyhappen to be maiden pearls or gems that would be good; but would youwish to inherit the evil fortune of all the women who have possessedbefore you?"

"Poor pearls! It is they who are the unfortunates. "

"Yes, but a time comes when they have taken all of misfortune they cantake; then the pearls grow black and die, really die. Yes, indeed! Ihave seen dead pearls. And if the necklace were of opals, when that timecame for them the gems would lose their fire and colour, grow ashy grey, fall apart and become dust, nothing but dust. "

"Do you believe such tales, aunt? I do not. And your pearls are yet aswhite as moonlight. I do not fear them. Give them to me, aunt. I snap myfingers at such fables. "

"Give them to you, I will not, Arenta; but you may take them from thebox with your own hands. "

"I am delighted to take them. I have always longed for them. "

"Perhaps then they longed for you, for what is another's yearns for itsowner. "

Then madame left the room and Arenta lifted the box and carried itnearer to the light. And a little shiver crept through her heart and sheclosed the lid quickly and said irritably--

"It is my aunt's words. She is always speaking dark and doubtful things. However, the pearls are mine at last!" and she carried them with herdownstairs, throwing back her head as if they were round her whitethroat and--as was her way--spreading herself as she went. 

All fine weddings are much alike. It was only in such accidentals ascostume that Arenta's differed from the fine weddings of to-day. Therewas the same crush of gayly attired women, of men in full dress, ormilitary dress, or distinguished by diplomatic insignia:--the same lowflutter of silk, and stir of whispered words, and suppressed excitement--the same eager crowd along the streets and around the church to watchthe advent of the bride and bridegroom. All of the guests had seen themvery often before, yet they too looked at the dazzling girl in white asif they expected an entirely different person. The murmur of pleasure, the indefinable stir of human emotion, the solemn mystical words at thealtar that were making two one, the triumphant peal of music when theyceased, and the quick crescendo of rising congratulation--all thesethings were present then, as now. And then, as now, all these thingsfailed to conceal from sensitive minds that odour of human sacrifice, not to be disguised with the scent of bridal flowers--that immolation ofyouth and beauty and charming girlhood upon the altar of an unknown andan untried love. 

New York was not then too busy making money to take an interest in sucha wedding, and Arenta's drive through its pleasant streets was a kind ofpublic invitation. For Jacob Van Ariens was one of a guild of wealthymerchants, and they were at their shop doors to express their sympathyby lifted hats and smiling faces; while the women looked from everywindow, and the little children followed, their treble voices heraldingand acclaiming the beautiful bride. Then came the breakfast and thehealth-drinking and the speech-making and the rather sadder drive to thewharf at which lay La Belle France. And even Arenta was by this timeweary of the excitement, so that it was almost with a sense of reliefshe stepped across the little carpeted gangway to her deck. Then theanchor was lifted, the cable loosened, and with every sail set La BelleFrance went dancing down the river on the tide-top to the open sea. 

Van Ariens and his son Rem turned silently away. A great and evidentdepression had suddenly taken the place of their assumed satisfaction. "I am going to the Swamp office, " said Rem after a few moments' silence, "there is something to be done there. "

"That is well, " answered Peter. "To my Cousin Deborah I will give somecharges about the silver, and then I will follow you. "

Both men were glad to be alone. They had outworn emotion and knewinstinctively that some common duty was the best restorer. The samefeeling affected, in one way or another, all the watchers of thisdestiny. Women whose household work was belated, whose children werestrayed, who had used up their nervous strength in waiting and feeling, were now cross and inclined to belittle the affair and to be angry atArenta and themselves for their lost day. And men, young and old, allwent back to their ledgers and counters and manufacturing with a senseof lassitude and dejection. 

Peter had nearly reached his own house when he met Doctor Moran. Thedoctor was more irritable than depressed. He looked at his friend andsaid sharply, "You have a fever, Van Ariens. Go to bed and sleep. "

"To work I will go. That is the best thing to do. My house has nocomfort in it. Like a milliner's or a mercer's store it has been formany weeks. Well, then, my Cousin Deborah is at work there, and in alittle while--a little while--" He suddenly stopped and looked at thedoctor with brimming eyes. In that moment he understood that no puttingto rights could ever make his home the same. His little saucy, selfish, but dearly loved Arenta would come there no more; and he found not oneword that could express the tide of sorrow rising in his heart. DoctorJohn understood. He remained quiet, silent, clasping Van Ariens' handuntil the desolate father with a great effort blurted out--

"She is gone!--and smiling, also, she went. "

"It is the curse of Adam, " answered Doctor Moran bitterly--"to bring updaughters, to love them, to toil and save and deny ourselves for them, and then to see some strange man, of whom we have no certain knowledge, carry them off captive to his destiny and his desires. 'Tis a thanklessportion to be a father--a bitter pleasure. "

"Well, then, to be a mother is worse. "

"Who can tell that? Women take for compensations things that do notdeceive a father. And, also, they have one grand promise to help thembear loss and disappointment--the assurance of the Holy Scripture thatthey shall have salvation through child-bearing. And I, who have seen somuch of family love and life, can tell you that this promise is all manya mother has for her travail and sorrowful love. "

"It is enough. Pray God that we miss not of that reward some share, " andwith a motion of adieu he turned into his house. Very thoughtfully theDoctor went on to William Street where he had a patient, --a young girlof about Arenta's age--very ill. A woman opened the door--a womanweeping bitterly. 

"She is gone, Doctor. "

"At what hour?"

"The clock was striking three--she went smiling. "

Then he bowed his head and turned away. 

There was nothing more that he could do; but he remembered that Arentahad stepped on board the La Belle France as the clock struck three, andthat she also had gone smiling to her unknown destiny. 

"Two emigrants, " he thought, "pilgrims of Love and Death, and both wentsmiling!" An unwonted tenderness came into his heart; he thought of thebright, lovely bride clinging so trustfully to her husband's arm, and hevoiced this gentle feeling to his wife in very sincere wishes for thesafety and happiness of the little emigrant for Love. He had a singularreluctance to name her--he knew not why--with the other little maid whoalso had left smiling at three o'clock, an emigrant for whom Death hadopened eternal vistas of delight. 

"I do not know, " said Mrs. Moran, "how Van Ariens could suffer hisdaughter to go to a country full of turmoil and bloodshed. "

"He was very unhappy to do so, Ava. But when things have gone a certainlength they have fatality. The Marquis had promised to become eventuallya citizen of this Republic, and Van Ariens had no idea in sanctioningthe marriage that his daughter would leave New York. It was evensupposed the Marquis would remain here in the Count de Moustier's place, and the sudden turn of events which sent de Tounnerre to France was asevere blow to Van Ariens. But what could he do?"

"He might have delayed the marriage until the return of de Tounnerre. "

"Ah, Ava! you are counting without consideration. He could not havedetained Arenta against her will, and if he had, a miserable life wouldhave been before both of them--domestic discomfort, public queries andsuspicions, questions, doubts, offending sympathies--all the griefs andvexations that are sure to follow a Fate that is crossed. He did thebest thing possible when he let the wilful girl go as pleasantly as hecould. Arenta needs a wide horizon. "

"Is she in any danger from the state of affairs in Paris?"

"Mr. Jefferson says in no danger whatever. Our Minister is living therein safety. Arenta will have his friendship and protection; and herhusband has many friends in the most powerful party. She will have abrilliant visit and be very happy. "

"How can she be very happy with the guillotine daily enacting suchmurders?"

"She need not be present at such murders. And Mr. Jefferson may beright, and we outsiders may make too much of circumstances that France, and France alone, can properly estimate. He says that the God that madeiron wished not slaves to exist, and thinks there is a profound andeternal justice in this desolation and retribution of aristocrats whohave committed unmentionable oppressions. I know not; good and evil areso interwoven in life that every good, traced up far enough, is found toinvolve evil. This is the great mystery of life. However, Ava, I am agreat believer in sequences; there are few events that break offabsolutely. In Arenta's life there will be sequences; let us hope thatthey will be happy ones. Where is Cornelia?"

"I know not. She is asleep. The ball to-night is to be fairy-land andlove-land, an Arabian night's dream and a midsummer night's dream all inone. I told her to rest, for she was weary and nervous withexpectation. "

"I dare say. But what is the good of being young if it is not to expectmiracles?"

"George Hyde calls for her at eight o'clock. I shall let her sleep untilseven, give her some refreshment, and then assist her to dress. "

"George Hyde! So you still believe in trusting the cat with the cream?"

"I still believe in Cornelia. Come, now, and drink a cup of tea. To-morrow the Van Ariens' excitement will be over, and we shall have rest. "

"I think not. The town is now ready to move to Philadelphia. I hear thatMrs. Adams is preparing to leave Richmond Hill. Washington has alreadygone, and Congress is to meet in December. Even the Quakers areintending all sorts of social festivities. "

"But this will not concern us. "

"It may. If George Hyde does not go very soon to England, we shall go toPhiladelphia. I wish to rid myself and Cornelia of his airs and gracesand wearisome good temper, his singing and reciting and tringham-trangham poetry. This story has been long enough; we will turn over andend it. "

"It will be a great trial to Cornelia. "

"It may, or it may not--there is Rem--Rem is your own suggestion. However, we have all to sing the hymn of Renunciation at some time; itis well to sing it in youth. "

Mrs. Moran did not answer. When answering was likely to provoke anger, she kept silence and talked the matter over with herself. A very wiseplan. For where shall we find a friend so intimate, so discreet, soconciliating as self? Who can speak to us so well?--without obscurity, without words, without passion. Yes, indeed: "I will talk to myself" isa very significant phrase. 

CHAPTER VIII

TWO PROPOSALS

The ruling idea of any mind assumes the foreground of thought; and afterArenta's marriage the dominant desire of George Hyde was to have hisbetrothal to Cornelia recognized and assured. He was in haste to lighthis own nuptial torch, and afraid every day of that summons to Englandwhich would delay the event. Hitherto, both had been satisfied with thedelicious certainty of their own hearts. To bring Love to discussion andcatechism, to talk of Love in connection with house and money matters, to put him into bonds, however light those bonds might be, was indeed asafe and prudent thing for their future happiness; but, so far, thepresent with its sweet freedom and uncertainty had been more charming totheir imagination. Suddenly, however, Hyde felt the danger and stress ofthis uncertainty and the fear of losing what he appeared to hold solightly. 

"I may have to go away with mother at any time--I may be detained byevents I cannot help--and I have not bound Cornelia to me by anypersonal recognized tie--and Rem Van Ariens will be ever near her. Oh, indeed, this state of affairs will never do! I will write to Corneliathis very moment and tell her I must see her father this evening. Icannot possibly delay it longer. I have been a fool--a careless, happyfool--too long. There is not now a day to lose. I have already wastedmore time than was reasonable over the love affairs of other people; nowI must look after my own. Safe bind, safe find; I will bind Cornelia tome before I leave her, then I have a good right to find her safe when Ireturn to claim her. "

While such thoughts were passing through his mind he had risen hastilyfrom the chair in which he had been musing. He opened his secretary andsitting resolutely down, began a letter to Doctor Moran. He poured outhis heart and desires, and then he read what he had written. It wouldnot do at all. It was a love letter and not a business letter. He wroteanother, and then another. The first was too long, it left nothing inthe inkstand; the last was not to be thought of. When he had finishedreading them over, he was in a passion with himself. 

"A fool in your teeth twice over, Joris Hyde!" he cried, "yes, sir, three times, and far too good for you! Since you cannot write a decentbusiness letter, write, then, to the adorable Cornelia; the words willbe at your finger ends for that letter, and will slip from your pen asif they were dancing:

"MY SWEET CORNELIA:

"I have not seen you for two days, and 'tis a miracle that I haveendured it. I can tell you, beloved, that I am much concerned about ouraffairs, and now that I have begun to talk wisely I may talk a littlemore without wearying you. You know that I may have to go to Englandsoon, and go I will not until I have asked your father what favour hewill show us. On the street, he gets out of my way as if I had theplague. Tell me at what hour I may call and see him in his house. I willthen ask him point blank for your hand, and he is so candid that I shallhave in a word Yes or No on the matter. Do not keep me waiting longerthan seven this very night. I have a fever of anxiety, and I shall notgrow better, but worse, until I settle our engagement. Oh, my peerlessCornelia, pearl and flower of womanhood, I speak your speech, I thinkyour thought; you are the noblest thing in my life, and to remember youis to remember the hours when I was the very best and the very happiest. Your image has become part of me, your memory is a perfume which makessweet my heart. I wish this moment to give you thousands and thousandsof kisses. Bid me come to you soon, very soon, sooner than seven, ifpossible, for your love is my life. Send your answer to my city lodging. I shall follow this letter and be impatiently waiting for it. Oh, Cornelia, am I not ever and entirely yours?

"GEORGE HYDE. "

It was not more than eight o'clock in the morning when he wrote thisletter, and as soon as possible he despatched a swift messenger with itto Cornelia. He hoped that she would receive it soon after the Doctorhad left his home for his usual round of professional visits; then shemight possibly write to him at once, and if so, he would get the lettervery soon after he reached the city. 

Probably Madame Hyde divined something of the importance and tenor of amissive sent in such a hurry of anxious love, so early in the day, butshe showed neither annoyance nor curiosity regarding it. In the firstplace, she knew that opposition would only strengthen whatever resolveher son had made; in the second place, she was conscious of a singularrestlessness of her own spirit. She was apprehending change, and shecould think of no change but that call to leave her home and her nativeland which she so much dreaded. If this event happened, then the affairsof Joris would assume an entirely different aspect. He would be obligedto leave everything which now interested him, and he could not livewithout interests; very well, then, he would be compelled to accept suchas a new Fate thrown into his new life. She had a great faith incircumstances. She knew that in the long run every one wrote beneaththat potent word, "Your obedient servant. " Circumstances would eitherpositively deny all her son's hopes, or they would so powerfully aidthem that opposition would be useless; and she mentally bowed herself toan influence so powerful and perhaps so favourable. 

"Joris, my dear one, " she said, as they rose from the breakfast table;"Joris, I think there is a letter from your father. To the city you mustgo as soon as you can, for I have had a restless night, full of feelingit has been. "

"You should not go to bed to feel, mother. Night is the time for sleep. "

"And for dreams, and for many good things to come, that come not in theday. Yes, indeed, the nighttime of the body is the daytime of the soul. "

Then Joris smiled and kissing her, said, "I am going at once. If thereis a letter I will send a quick rider with it. "

"But come thyself. "

"That I cannot. " "But why, then?"

"To-morrow, I will tell you. "

"That is well. Into thy mother's heart drop all thy joys and sorrows. Thine are mine. " And she kissed him, and he went away glad and hopefuland full of tender love for the mother who understood him sosympathetically. He stood up in his stirrups to wave her a last adieu, and then he said to himself, "How fortunate I am about women! Could Ihave a sweeter, lovelier mistress? No! Mother? No! Grandmother? No!Friend? No! Cornelia, mother, grandmother, Madame Jacobus, all of themjust what I love and need, sweet souls between me and the angels. "

It happened--but doubtless happened because so ordered--that the veryhour in which Joris left Hyde Manor, Peter Van Ariens received a letterthat made him very anxious. He left his office and went to see his son. "Rem, " he said, "there is now an opportunity for thee. Here has come aletter from Boston, and some one must go there; and that too in a greathurry. The house of Blume and Otis is likely to fail, and in it we havesome great interests. A lawyer we must have to look after them; gothyself, and it shall be well for both of us. "

"I am ready to go--that is, I can be ready in one or two days. "

"There are not one or two days to spare. Gerard will take care of thywork here. To-day is the best time of all. "

"I cannot go with a happy mind to-day. I will tell you, father. I thinknow my case with Cornelia will bear putting to the question. As youknow, it has been step with step between Joris Hyde and myself in thataffair, and if I go away now without securing the ground I have gained, what can hinder Hyde from taking advantage over me? He too must go soon, but he will try and secure his position before he leaves. To do the samething is my only way. I wish, then, the time to give myself thissecurity. "

"That is fair. A man is not a man till he has won a wife. Cornelia Moranis much to my mind. Tell her my home is thine, and she will be amistress dearly loved and honoured. And if a thing is to be done, thereis no time like the hour that has not struck. Go and see her now. Shewas in the garden gathering asters when I left home this morning. "

"I will write to her. I will tell her what is in my heart--though sheknows it well--and ask her for her love and her hand. If she is kind tomy offer she will tell me to come and see her to-night, then I can go toBoston with a free heart and look after your money and your business. "

"If things be this way, thou art reasonable. A good wife must not belost for the peril of some gold sovereigns. At once write to the maid;such letters are best done at the first thought, some prudences or somefears may come with the second thoughts. "

"I have no fear but Joris Hyde. That Englishman I hate. His calmconfidence, his smiling insolent air is intolerable. "

"It is the English way. But Cornelia is American--as thou art. "

"She thinks much of that, but yet--"

"Be not afraid. The brave either find, or make, a way to success. Whatis in a girl's heart no man can tell, if she be cold and shy that shouldnot cause thee to doubt. When water is ice, who would suspect what greatheat is stored away in it? Write thy letter at once. Put thy heart intothy pen. Not always prudent is this way, but once in a man's life it iswisdom. "

"My pen is too small for my heart. "

"My opinion is that thou hast wavered too long. It is a greatfoolishness to let the cherry knock against the lips too often or toolong. A pretty pastime, perhaps, to will, and not will, to dare, and notdare; but at last the knock comes that drops the cherry--it may be intosome other mouth. "

"I fear no one but that rascal, Joris Hyde. "

"A rascal he is not, because the same woman he loves as thyself. Suchwords weaken any cause. No wrong have I seen or known of LieutenantHyde. "

"I will call him a rascal, and I will give him no other title, thoughhis father leave him an earl. "

"Now, then, I shall go. I like not ill words. Write thy letter, but putout of thy mind all bad thoughts first. A love letter from a bitterheart is not lucky. And of all thy wit thou wilt have great need if to awoman thou write. "

"Oh, they are intolerable, aching joys! A man who dares to love a woman, or dares to believe in her, dares to be mad. "

"Come, come! No evil must thou speak of good women, I swear that I wasnever out of it yet, when I judged men as they judged women. The art ofloving a woman is the art of trusting her--yes, though the heavens fall. Now, then, haste with thy letter. Thou may have 'Yes' to it ere thousleep to-night. "

"And I may have 'No. '"

"To be sure, if thou think 'no. ' But, even so, if thou lose the weddingring, the hand is still left; another ring may be found. "

"'No, ' would be a deathblow to me. "

"It will not. While a man has meat and drink love will not starve him;with world's business and world's pleasure an unkind love he makes shiftto forget. Bring to me word of thy good fortune this night, and in themorning there is the Boston business. Longer it can hardly wait. "

But the letter to Cornelia which Hyde found to slip off his pen likedancing was a much more difficult matter to Rem. He wrote and destroyed, and wrote again and destroyed, and this so often that he finallyresolved to go to Maiden Lane for his inspiration. "I may see Corneliain the garden, or at the window, and when I see what I desire, surely Ishall have the wit to ask for it. "

So he thought, and with the thought he locked his desk and went towardshis home in Maiden Lane. He met George Hyde sauntering up the streetlooking unhappy and restless, and he suspected at once that he had beenwalking past Doctor Moran's house in the hope of seeing Cornelia and hadbeen disappointed. The thought delighted him. He was willing to beardisappointment himself, if by doing so some of Hyde's smiling confidencewas changed to that unhappy uneasiness which he detected in his rival'sface and manner. The young men bowed to each other but did not speak. Insome occult way they divined a more positive antagonism than they hadever before been conscious of. 

"I cannot go out of the house, " thought Rem, "without meeting that fop. He is in at one door, and out at another; this way, that way, up street, and down street--the devil take the fellow!"

"What a mere sullen creature that Rem Van Ariens is!" thought Hyde, "andwith all the good temper in the world I affirm it. I wonder what he ison the street for at this hour! Shall I watch him? No, that would bevile work. I will let him alone; he may as well play the ill-naturedfool on the street as in the house--better, indeed, for some one mayhave a title to tell him so. But I may assure myself of one thing, whenI met him he was building castles in the future, for he was lookingstraight before him; and if he had been thinking of the past, he wouldhave been looking down. I should not wonder if it was Cornelia thatfilled his dreams. Faith, we have blockheads of all ages; but on thatroad he will never overtake his thought"--then with a movement ofimpatience he added, "Why should I let him into my mind?--for he is the least welcome of allintruders. --Good gracious! how long the minutes are! It is plain to methat Cornelia is not at home, and my letter may not even have touchedher hands yet. How shall I endure another hour?--perhaps many hours. Where can she have gone? Not unlikely to Madame Jacobus. Why did I notthink of this before? For who can help me to bear suspense better thanmadame? I will go to her at once. "

He hastened his steps and soon arrived at the well-known residence ofhis friend. He was amazed as soon as the door was opened to findpreparations of the most evident kind for some change. The corded trunkin the hall, the displaced furniture, all things he saw were full of thesad hurry of parting. "What is the matter?" he asked in a voice of fear. 

"I am going away for a time, Joris, my good friend, " answered madame, coming out of a shrouded and darkened parlour as she spoke. She had onher cloak and bonnet, and before Joris could ask her another question acoach drove to the door. "I think it is a piece of good fortune, " shecontinued, "to see you before I go. "

"But where are you going?"

"To Charleston. "

"But why?"

"I am going because my sister Sabrina is sick--dying; and there is noone so near to her as I am. "

"I knew not you had a sister. "

"She is the sister of my husband. So, then, she is twice my sister. WhenJacobus comes home he will thank me for going to his dear Sabrina. Butwhat brings you here so early? Yesterday I asked for you, and I was toldthat you were waiting on your good mother. "

"My mother felt sure there was a letter from father, and I came at onceto get it for her. "

"Was there one?"

"There was none. "

"It will come in good time. Now, I must go. I have not one moment tolose. Good-bye, dear Joris!"

"For how long, my friend?"

"I know not. Sabrina is incurably ill. I shall stay with her till shedeparts. " She said these words as they went down the steps together, andwith eyes full of tears he placed her carefully in the coach and thenturned sorrowfully to his own rooms. He could not speak of his ownaffairs at such a moment, and he realized that there was nothing for himto do but wait as patiently as possible for Cornelia's answer. 

In the meantime Rem was writing his proposal. He was not assisted in theeffort by any sight of his mistress. It was evident Cornelia was not inher home, and he looked in vain for any shadow of the sweet face that hewas certain would have made his words come easily. Finally, after manytrials, he desisted with the following, though it was the leastaffective of any form he had written:

To MISS MORAN, Honoured and Beloved Friend:

Twenty times this day I have tried to write a letter worthy to come intoyour hands and worthy to tell you how beyond all words I love you, Butwhat can I say more than that I love you? This you know. It has been nosecret to you since ever you were a little girl. Many years I havesought your love, --pardon me if now I ask you to tell me I have notsought in vain. To-morrow I must leave New York, and I may be away forsome time. Pray, then, give me some hope to-night to take with me. Saybut one word to make me the proudest and happiest lover in the world. Give me the permission to come and show to your father that I am able tomaintain you in every comfort that is your right; and all my life long Iwill prove to you the devotion that attests my undying affection andgratitude. I am sick with longing for the promise of your love. May Ipresume to hope so great a blessing? O dearest Cornelia, I am, as youknow well, your humble servant, REMBRANDT VAN ARIENS. 

When he had finished this letter, he folded and sealed it, and walked tothe window with it in his hand. Then he saw Cornelia returning home fromsome shopping or social errand, and hastily calling a servant, orderedhim to deliver the letter at once to Miss Moran. And as Cornelialingered a little among the aster beds, the man put it into her ownhands. She bowed and smiled as she accepted it, but Rem, watching withhis heart in his eyes, could see that it awakened no special interest. She kept it unopened as she wandered among the purple and pink, and goldand white flowers, until Mrs. Moran came to the door to hurry hermovements; then she followed her mother hastily into the house, "Do youknow how late it is, Cornelia? Dinner is nearly ready. There is a letteron your dressing table that came by Lieutenant Hyde's servant two orthree hours ago. "

"And Tobias has just brought me a letter from Rem--at least thedirection is in Rem's handwriting. "

"Some farewell dance I suppose, before our dancers go to gayPhiladelphia. "

"I dare say it is. " She made the supposition as she went up the stairs, and did not for a moment anticipate any more important information. Asshe entered her room an imposing looking letter met her eyes--a letterwritten upon the finest paper, squarely folded, and closed with a largeseal of scarlet wax carrying the Hyde arms. Poor Rem's message lostinstantly whatever interest it possessed; she let it fall from her hand, and lifting Hyde's, opened it with that marvellous womanly impetuositywhich love teaches. Then all the sweet intimate ardour and passionatedisquietude of her lover took possession of her. In a moment she feltall that he felt; all the ecstasy and tumult of a great affection notsure. For this letter was the "little more" in Hyde's love, and, oh, howmuch it was!

She pondered it until she was called to dinner. There was then no timeto read Rem's letter, but she broke the seal and glanced at its tenor, and an expression of pity and annoyance came into her eyes. Hastily shelocked both letters away in a drawer of her desk, and as she did so, smilingly said to herself, "I wonder if papers are sensitive! Shut closetogether in one little drawer will they like it? I hope they will liepeaceably and not quarrel. "

Doctor Moran was not at home, nor was he expected until sundown, somother and daughter enjoyed together the confidence which Hyde's letterinduced. Mrs. Moran thought the young man was right, and promised, to acertain extent, to favour his proposal. "However, Cornelia, " she added, "unless your father is perfectly agreeable and satisfied, I would notadvise you to make any engagement. Clandestine engagements come to griefin some way or other, and if your marriage with Joris Hyde isprearranged by THOSE who know what is best for your good, then, my dear, it is as sure to take place as the sun is sure to rise to-morrow. It isonly waiting for the appointed hour, and you may as well wait in a happyhome as in one you make wretched by the fret and complaining which asecret in any life is certain to produce. "

Now, it is not often that a girl has to answer in one hour two suchepistles as those received by Cornelia. Yet perhaps such an event occursmore frequently than is suspected, for Love--like other things--has itscritical moment; and when that moment arrives it finds a voice as surelyas the flower ready to bloom opens its petals. And if there be twolovers equally sincere, both are likely to feel at the same moment thesame impetus to revelation. Besides which, Fate of any kind seeks theunusual and the unexpected; it desires to startle, and to force eventsby surprises. 

The answering of these letters was naturally Cornelia's first afternoonthought. It troubled her to remember that Joris had already been waitingsome hours for a reply, for she had no hesitation as to what that replyshould be. To write to Joris was a delightful thing, an unusualpleasure, and she sat down, smiling, to pen the lines which she thoughtwould bring her much happiness, but which were doomed to bring her agreat sorrow. 

MY JORIS! My dear Friend:

'Tis scarce an hour since I received your letter, but I have read itover four times. And whatever you desire, that also is my desire; and Iam deceived as much as you, if you think I do not love you as much as Iam loved by you. You know my heart, and from you I shall never hide it;and I think if I were asleep, I should tell you how much I love you;for, indeed, I often dream that I do so. Come, then, this very night assoon as you think convenient. If my father is in a suitable temper itwill be well to speak plainly to him, and I am sure that my mother willsay in our favour all that is wise. 

Our love, with no recognition but our own, has been so strangely sweetthat I could be content never to alter that condition; and yet I fear nobond, and am ready to put it all to the trial. For if our love is notsuch as will uphold an engagement, it will sink of itself; and if it istrue as we believe it to be, then it may last eternally. What more is tosay I will keep for your ear, for you are enough in my heart to know allmy thoughts, and to know better than I can tell you how dearly, howconstantly, how entirely I love you. 

Yours forever, CORNELIA. 

Without a pause, without an erasure this letter had transcribed itselffrom Cornelia's heart to the small gilt-edged note paper; but she foundit a much more difficult thing to answer the request of Rem Van Ariens. She was angry at him for putting her in such a dilemma. She thought thatshe had made plain as possible to him the fact that she was pleased tobe a companion, a friend, a sister, if he so desired, but that lovebetween them was not to be thought of. She had told Arenta this manytimes, and she had done so because she was certain Arenta would makethis position clear to her brother. And under ordinary circumstancesArenta would have been frank and free enough with Rem, but while her ownmarriage was such an important question she was not inclined toembarrass or shadow its arrangements by suggesting things to Rem likelyto cause disagreements when she wished all to be harmonious andcheerful. So Arenta had encouraged, rather than dashed, Rem's hopes, forshe did not doubt that Cornelia would finally undo very thoroughly whatshe had done. 

"A little love experience will be a good thing for Rem, " she said toherself--"it will make a man of him; and I do hope he has more self-respect and courage than to die of her denial. "

It is easy, then, to understand how Cornelia, relying on Arenta'susually ready advice and confidences, was sure that Rem had accepted thefriendship that was all in her power to give him, and that this beliefgave to their intercourse a frank and kindly intimacy that it would nototherwise have obtained. This state of things was desirable andcomfortable for Arenta, and Cornelia also had found a great satisfactionin a friendship which she trusted had fully recognized and accepted itslimitations. Now, all these pleasant moderate emotions were stirred intouncomfortable agitation by Rem's unlooked-for and unreasonable request. She was hurt and agitated and withal a little sorry for Rem, and she wasalso in a hurry, for the letter for Joris was waiting, as she wished tosend both by the same messenger. Finally she wrote the following words, not noticing at the time, but remembering afterwards, what a singularsoul reluctance she experienced; how some uncertain presentiment, vagueand dark and drear, stifled her thoughts and tried to make herunderstand, or at least pause. But alas! the doom that walks side byside with us, never warns; it seems rather to stand sarcastic at ourignorance, and to watch speculatively the cloud of trouble coming--coming on purpose because we foolishly or carelessly call it to us. 

MY DEAR AND HONOURED FRIEND:

Your letter has given me very great sorrow. You must have known for manyweeks, even months, that marriage between us was impossible. It hasalways been so, it always will be so. Why could you not be content? Wehave been so happy! So happy! and now you will end all. But Fortune, though often cruel, cannot call back times that are past, and I shallnever forget our friendship. I grieve at your going away; I pray thatyour absence may bring you some consolation. Do not, I beg you, attemptto call on my father. Without explanations, I tell you very sincerely, such a call will cause me great trouble; for you know well a girl musttrust somewhat to others' judgment in her disposal. It gives me morepain than I can say to write in this mood, but necessity permits me nokinder words. I want you to be sure that the wrench, the "No" here isabsolute. My dear friend, pity rather than blame me; and I will be sounselfish as to hope you may not think so kindly of me as to be cruel toyourself. Please to consider your letter as never written, it is thegreatest kindness you can do me; and, above all, I beg you will not takemy father into your confidence. With a sad sense of the pain my wordsmust cause you, I remain for all time your faithful friend and obedientservant, CORNELIA MORAN. 

Then she rang for a lighted candle, and while waiting for its arrivalneatly folded her letters. Her white wax and seal were at hand, and shedelayed the servant until she had closed and addressed them. 

"You will take Lieutenant Hyde's letter first, " she said; "and make nodelay about it, for it is very important. Mr. Van Ariens' note you candeliver as you return. "

As soon as this business was quite out of her hands, she sank with ahappy sigh into a large comfortable chair; let her arms drop gently, andclosed her eyes to think over what she had done. She was quitesatisfied. She was sure that no length of reflection could have made herdecide differently. She had Hyde's letter in her bosom, and she pressedher hand against it, and vowed to her heart that he was worthy of herlove, and that he only should have it. As for Rem, she had a decidedfeeling of annoyance, almost of fear, as he entered her mind. She wasangry that he had chosen that day to urge his unwelcome suit, and thusthrust his personality into Hyde's special hour. 

"He always makes himself unwelcome, " she thought, "he ever has the wayto come when he was least wanted; but Joris! Oh there is nothing I wouldalter in him, even at the cost of a wish! JORIS! JORIS!" and she let thedear name sweeten her lips, while the light of love brightened andlengthened her eyes, and spread over her lovely face a blushing glow. 

After a while she rose up and adorned herself for her lover's visit. Andwhen she entered the parlor Mrs. Moran looked at her with a littlewonder. For she had put on with her loveliest gown a kind of bewilderingprettiness. There was no cloud in her eyes, only a glow of soft darkfire. Her soul was in her face, it spoke in her bright glances, hersweet smiles, and her light step; it softened her speech to music, itmade her altogether so delightful that her mother thought "Fortune mustgive her all she wishes, she is so charming. "

The tea tray was brought in at five o'clock, but Doctor Moran had notreturned, and there was in both women's hearts a little sense ofdisappointment. Mrs. Moran was wondering at his unusual delay, Corneliafeared he would be too weary and perhaps, too much interested in othermatters to permit her lover to speak. "But even so, " she thought, "Joriscan come again. To-night is not the only opportunity. "

It was nearly seven o'clock when the doctor came, and Cornelia was sureher lover would not be much behind that hour; but tea time was ever agood time to her father, he was always amiable and gracious with a cupin his hand, and the hour after it when his pipe kept him company, washis best hour. She told her heart that things had fallen out better thanif she had planned them so; and she was so thoughtful for the wearyman's comfort, so attentive and so amusing, that he found it easy torespond to the happy atmosphere surrounding him. He had a score ofpleasant things to tell about the fashionable exodus to Philadelphia, about the handsome dresses that had been shown him, and the funnyhousehold dilemmas that had been told him. And he was much pleasedbecause Harry De Lancey had been a great part of the day with him, andwas very eloquent indeed about the young man's good sense and gooddisposition, and the unnecessary, and almost cruel, confiscation ofproperty his family had suffered, for their Tory principles. 

And in the midst of the De Lancey lamentation, seven o'clock struck andCornelia began to listen for the shutting of the garden gate, and thesound of Hyde's step upon the flagged walk. It did not come as soon asshe hoped it would, and the minutes went slowly on until eight struck. Then the doctor was glooming and nodding, and waking up and saying aword or two, and relapsing again into semi-unconsciousness. She feltthat the favourable hour had passed, and now the minutes went far tooquickly. Why did he net come? With her work in her hand-making laboriousstitches by a drawn thread--she sat listening with all her being. Thestreet itself was strangely silent, no one passed, and the fitful talkat the fireside seemed full of fatality; she could feel the influence, though she did not inquire of her heart what it was, of what it mightsignify. 

Half-past eight! She looked up and caught her mother's eyes, and thetrouble and question in them, and the needle going through the finemuslin, seemed to go through her heart. At nine the watching becameunbearable. She said softly "I must go to bed. I am tired;" but she putaway with her usual neatness her work, and her spools of thread, herthimble and her scissors. Her movement in the room roused the doctorthoroughly. He stood up, stretched his arms outward and upward, and said"he believed he had been sleeping, and must ask their pardon for hisindifference. " And then he walked to the window and looking out added"It is a lovely night but the moon looks like storm. Oh!"--and he turnedquickly with the exclamation--"I forgot to tell you that I heard astrange report to-day, nothing less than that General Hyde returned onthe Mary Pell this morning, bringing with him a child. "

"A child!" said Mrs. Moran. 

"A girl, then, a little mite of a creature. Mrs. Davy told me theCaptain carried her in his arms to the carriage which took them to HydeManor. "

"And how should Mrs. Davy know?"

"The Davys live next door to the Pells, and the servants of one housecarried the news to the other house. She said the General sent to hisson's lodging to see if he was in town, but he was not. It was then onlyeight o'clock in the morning. "

"How unlikely such a story is! Do you believe it?"

"Ask to-morrow. As for me, I neither know nor care. That is the report. Who can tell what the Hydes will do?"

Then Cornelia said a hasty "good-night" and went to her room. She wassick at heart; she trembled, something in her life had lost its foot-hold, and a sudden bewildering terror--she knew not how to explain--tookpossession of her. For once she forgot her habitual order and neatness;her pretty dress was thrown heedlessly across a chair, and she fell uponher knees weeping, and yet she could not pray. 

Still the very posture and the sweet sense of help and strength itimplied, brought her the power to take into consideration suchunexpected news, and such unexplained neglect on her lover's part, "General Hyde has returned; that much I feel certain of, " she thought, "and Joris must have left Hyde Manor about the time his father reachedNew York. Joris would take the river road, being the shortest, hisfather would take the highway as the best for the carriage. Consequently, they passed each other and did not know it. Then Joris hasbeen sent for, and it was right and natural that he should go--but oh, he might have written!--ten words would have been enough--It was righthe should go--but he might have written!--he might have written!"--andshe buried her face in her pillow and wept bitterly. Alas! Alas! Lovewounds as cruelly when he fails, as when he strikes; and even whenCornelia had outworn thought and feeling, and fallen into a sorrowfulsleep, she was conscious of this failure, and her soul sighed all nightlong "He might have written!"

CHAPTER IX

MISDIRECTED LETTERS

The night so unhappy to Cornelia was very much more unhappy to Hyde. Hehad sent his letter to her before eleven in the morning, and if Fortunewere kind to him, he expected an answer soon after leaving MadameJacobus. Her departure from New York depressed him very much. She hadbeen the good genius of his love, but he told himself that it had now"grown to perfection, and could, he hoped, stand in its own strength. "Restlessly he watched the hours away, now blaming, now excusing, anondreaming of his coming bliss, then fidgeting and fearing disappointmentfrom being too forward in its demanding. When noon passed, and oneo'clock struck, he rang for some refreshment; for he guessed veryaccurately the reason of delay. 

"Cornelia has been visiting or shopping, " he thought; "and if it werevisiting, no one would part with her until the last moment; so then ifshe get home by dinner-time it is as much as I can expect. I may as welleat, and then wait in what patience I can, another hour or two--yes, itwill be two hours. I will give her two hours--for she will be obliged toserve others before me. Well, well, patience is my penance. "

But in truth he expected the letter to be in advance of three o'clock. "Twenty words will answer me, " he thought; "yes, ten words; and she willfind or make the time to write them;" and between this hope and thecertainty of three o'clock, he worried the minutes away until threestruck. Then there was a knock at his door and he went hastily to answerit. Balthazar stood there with the longed-for letter in his hand. Hefelt first of all that he must be quite alone with it. So he turned thekey and then stood a moment to examine the outside. A letter fromCornelia! It was a joy to see his own name written by her hand. Hekissed the superscription, and kissed the white seal, and sank into hischair with a sigh of delight to read it. 

In a few moments a change beyond all expression came over his face--perplexity, anger, despair cruelly assailed him. It was evident thatsome irreparable thing had ruined all his hopes. He was for some momentsdumb. He felt what he could not express, for a great calamity had openeda chamber of feeling, which required new words to explain it. Thistrance of grief was followed by passionate imprecations and reproaches, wearing themselves away to an utter amazement and incredulity. He hadflung the letter to the floor, but he lifted it again and went over thecruel words, forcing himself to read them slowly and aloud. Every periodwas like a fresh sentence of death. 

"'YOUR LETTER HAS GIVEN ME VERY GREAT SORROW;' let me die if that is notwhat she says; 'VERY GREAT SORROW. YOU MUST HAVE KNOWN FOR WEEKS, EVENMONTHS, THAT MARRIAGE BETWEEN US WAS IMPOSSIBLE;' am I perfectly in mysenses? 'IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN AND ALWAYS WILL BE;' why, 'tis heart treasonof the worst kind! Can I bear it? Can I bear it? Can I bear it? OhCornelia! Cornelia! 'WE HAVE BEEN SO HAPPY. ' Oh it is piteous, sad. Soyoung, so fair, so false! and she 'GRIEVES AT MY GOING AWAY, ' and bidsme on 'NO ACCOUNT CALL ON HER FATHER'--and takes pains to tell me the'NO IS ABSOLUTE'--and I am not to 'BLAME HER. ' Oh this is the vilesttreachery! She might as well have played the coquette in speech aswriting. It is Rem Van Ariens who is at the bottom of it. May the deviltake the fellow! I shall need some heavenly power to keep my hands offhim. This is a grief beyond all griefs--I believed she loved me soentirely. Fool! a thousand times fool! Have I not found all women of apiece? Did not Molly Trefuses throw me over for a duke? and Sarah Talbottell me my love was only calf-love and had to be weaned? and Eliza Capelregret that I was too young to guide a wife, and so marry a cabinetminister old enough for her grandfather? Women are all just so, not acherry stone to choose between them--I will never wonder again atanything a woman does--Was ever a lover so betrayed? Oh Cornelia! yourink should have frozen in your pen, ere you wrote such words to me. "

Thus his passionate grief and anger tortured him until midnight. Then hehad a high fever and a distracting headache, and, the physical tormentbeing the most insistent and distressing, he gave way before it. Withsuch agonizing tears as spring from despairing wounded love he threwhimself upon his bed, and his craving, suffering heart at length foundrest in sleep from the terrible egotism of its sorrow. 

Never for one instant did he imagine this sorrow to be a mistaken andquite unnecessary one. Indeed it was almost impossible for him toconceive of a series of events, which though apparently accidental, hada fatality more pronounced than anything that could have been arranged. Not taking Rem Van Ariens seriously into his consideration, and notfearing his rival in any way, it was beyond all his suspicions that Remshould write to Cornelia in the same hour, and for the same purpose ashimself. He had no knowledge of Rem's intention to go to Boston, andcould not therefore imagine Cornelia "grieving" at any journey but hisown impending one to England. And that she should be forced bycircumstances to answer both Rem and himself in the same hour, and inthe very stress and hurry of her great love and anxiety should misdirectthe letters, were likelihoods outside his consciousness. 

It was far otherwise with Rem. The moment he opened the letter broughthim by Cornelia's messenger, in that very moment he knew that it was NOThis letter. He understood at once the position, and perceived that heheld in his hand an instrument, which if affairs went as he desired, waslikely to make trouble he could perchance turn to his own advantage. Thefate that had favoured him so far would doubtless go further--if he letit alone. These thoughts sprang at once into his reflection, but werebarely entertained before nobler ones displaced them. As a Christiangentleman he knew what he ought to do without cavil and without delay, and he rose to follow the benignant justice of his conscience. Into thisobedience, however, there entered an hesitation of a second of time, andthat infinitesimal period was sufficient for his evil genius. 

"Why will you meddle?" it asked. "This is a very dubious matter, andcommon prudence suggests a little consideration. It will be far wiser tolet Hyde take the first step. If the letter he has received is soworded, that he knows it is your letter, it is his place to make thetransfer--and he will be sure to do it. Why should you continue thechase? let the favoured one look after his own affairs--being a lawyer, you may well tell yourself, that it is not your interest to move thequestion. "

And he hesitated and then sat down, and as there is wickedness even inhesitating about a wicked act, Rem easily drifted from the negative tothe positive of the crime contemplated. 

"I had better keep it, " he mused, "and see what will come of thekeeping. All things are fair in love and war"--a stupid and slanderousassertion, as far as love is concerned, for love that is noble and true, will not justify anything which Christian ethics do not justify. 

He suffered in this decision, suffered in his own way quite as much asHyde did. Cornelia had been his dream from his youth up, and Hyde hadbeen his aversion from the moment he first saw him. The words were notto seek with which he expressed himself, and they were such words as donot bear repeating. But of all revelations, the revelation of grief isthe plainest. He saw clearly in that hour that Cornelia had never lovedhim, that his hopes had always been vain, and he experienced all thebitterness of being slighted and humbled for an enemy. 

After a little while he remembered that Hyde might possibly do the thingwhich he had resolved not to do. Involuntarily he did Hyde this justice, and he said to himself, "if there is anything in the letter intended forme, which determines its ownership, Hyde will bring it. He willunderstand that I have the answer to his proposal, and demand it fromme--and whether I shall feel in a mood to give it to him, will depend onthe manner in which the demand is made. If he is in one of his lordlyways he will get no satisfaction from me. I am not apt to give myself, nor anything I have, away; in fact it will be best not to see him--if heholds a letter of mine he may keep it. I know its tenor and I am noteager to know the very words in which my lady says 'No. ' HO! HO! HO!" helaughed, "I will go to the Swamp; my scented rival in his perfumedclothing, will hardly wish the smell of the tanning pits to come betweenhim and his gentility. "

The thought of Hyde's probable visit and this way of escaping it madehim laugh again; but it was a laughter that had that something terriblein it which makes the laughter of the insane and drunken and cruel, worse than the bitterest lamentation. He felt a sudden haste to escapehimself, and seizing his hat walked rapidly to his father's office. Peter looked up as he entered, and the question in his eyes hardlyneeded the simple interrogatary--

"Well then?"

"It is 'No. ' I shall go to Boston early in the morning. I wish to goover the business with Blume and Otis, and to possess myself of allparticulars. "

"I have just heard that General Hyde came back this morning. He is nowthe Right Honourable the Earl of Hyde, and his son is, as you know, LordGeorge Hyde. Has this made a difference?"

"It has not. Let us count up what is owing to us. After all there is acertain good in gold. "

"That is the truth. I am an old man and I have seen what altitudes thewant of gold can abase, and what impossible things it makes possible. Inany adversity gold can find friends. "

"I shall count every half-penny after Blume and Otis. "

"Be not too strict--too far east is west. You may lose all by demandingall. "

Then the two men spent several hours in going over their accounts, andduring this time no one called on Rem and he received no message. Whenhe returned home he found affairs just as he had left them. "So fargood, " he thought, "I will let sleeping dogs lie. Why should I set thembaying about my affairs? I will not do it"--and with this determinationin his heart he fell asleep. 

But Rem's sleep was the sleep of pure matter; his soul never knew theexpansion and enlightenment and discipline of the oracles that speak indarkness. The winged dreams had no message or comfort for him, and hetook no counsel from his pillow. His sleep was the sleep of tired fleshand blood, and heavy as lead. But the waking from such sleep--if thereis trouble to meet--is like being awakened with a blow. He leaped to hisfeet, and the thought of his loss and the shame of it, and the horror ofthe dishonourable thing he had done, assailed him with a brutal forceand swiftness. He was stunned by the suddenness and the inexorablecharacter of his trouble. And he told himself it was "best to run awayfrom what he could not fight. " He had no fear of Hyde's interference soearly in the morning, and once in Boston all attacks would lose much oftheir hostile virulence, by the mere influence of distance. He knewthese were cowardly thoughts, but when a man knows he is in the wrong, he does not challenge his thoughts, he excuses them. And as soon as hewas well on the road to Boston, he even began to assume that Hyde, fullof the glory of his new position, would doubtless be well disposed tolet all old affairs drop quietly "and if so, " he mused, "Cornelia willnot be so dainty, and I may get 'Yes' where I got 'No. '"

He was of course arguing from altogether wrong premises, for Hyde atthat hour was unconscious of his new dignity, and if he had been awareof it, would have been indifferent to its small honour. He had spent amiserable night, and a sense of almost intolerable desertion and injuryawoke with him. His soul had been in desolate places, wandering inimmense woods, vaguely apprehended as stretches of time before thislife. He had called the lost Cornelia through all their loneliness, andanswers faint as the faintest echo, had come back to that sense ofspiritual hearing attuned in other worlds than this. But sad as suchexperience was, the sole effort had strengthened him. He was indeed inbetter case mentally than physically. 

"I must get into the fresh air, " he said. "I am faint and weak. I musthave movement. I must see my mother. I will tell her everything. " Thenhe went to his mirror, and looked with a grim smile at its reflection. "I have the face of a lover kicked out of doors, " he continuedscornfully. He took but small pains with his toilet, and calling forsome breakfast sat down to eat it. Then for the first time in his life, he was conscious of that soul sickness which turns from all physicalcomfort; and of that singular obstruction in the throat which is theheart's sob, and which would not suffer him to swallow. 

"I am most wretched, " he said mournfully; "and no trouble comes alone. Of all the days in all the years, why should Madame Jacobus have to takeherself out of town yesterday? It is almost incredible, and she could, and would have helped me. She would have sent for Cornelia. I might havepleaded my cause face to face with her. " Then angrily--" Faith! can Iyet care for a girl so cruel and so false? I am not to be pitied if Ido. I will go to my dear mother. Mother-love is always sure, and alwaysyoung. Whatever befalls, it keeps constant truth. I will go to mymother. "

He rode rapidly through the city and spoke to no one, but when hereached his Grandfather Van Heemskirk's house, he saw him leaning overthe half-door smoking his pipe. He drew rein then, and the old gentlemancame to his side:

"Why art thou here?" he asked. "Is thy father, or Lady Annie sick?"

"I know nothing new. There was no letter yesterday. "

"Yesterday! Surely thou must know that they are now at home? Yesterday, very early in the morning, they landed. "

"My father at home!"

"That is the truth. Where wert thou, not to know this?"

"I came to town yesterday morning. I had a great trouble. I was sick andkept my room. "

"And sick thou art now, I can see that, " said Madame Van Heemskirkcoming forward--"What is the matter with thee, my Joris?"

"Cornelia has refused me. I know not how it is, that no woman will loveme. Am I so very disagreeable?"

"Thou art as handsome and as charming as can be; and it is not Corneliathat has said 'no' to thee, it is her father. Now he will be sorry, forthy uncle is dead and thy father is Earl Hyde, and thou thyself art alord. "

"I care not for such things. I am a poor lord, if Cornelia be not mylady. " "I wonder they sent not after thee!"

"They would be expecting me every hour. If there had been a letter Ishould have gone directly back with it, but it was beyond all surmising, that my father should return. Grandfather, will you see Doctor Moran forme? You can speak a word that will prevail. "

"I will not, my Joris. If thy father were not here, that would bedifferent. He is the right man to move in the matter. Ever thou art intoo much of a hurry. Think now of thy life as a book of uncut leaves, and do not turn a page till thou hast read it to the very last word. "

"_I_ will see Cornelia for thee, " said Madame Van Heernskirk. "_I_ willask the girl what she means. Very often she passes here, sometimes shecomes in. I will say to her--why did thou throw my grandson's love awaylike an old shoe? Art thou not ashamed to be so light of love, for Iknow well thou said to my Joris, thou loved him. And she will tell methe truth. Yes, indeed, if into my house she comes, out of it she goesnot, until I have the why, and the wherefore. "

"Do not be unkind to her, grandmother--perhaps it is not her fault--ifshe had only said a few sorrowful words--Let me show you her letter. "

"No, " said Van Heernskirk. " One thing at a time, Joris. Now it is thetime to go and welcome thy father and thy cousin--too long has been thedelay already. "

"Then good-bye! Grandmother, you will speak or me?" And she smiled andnodded, and stood on her tiptoe while Joris stooped and kissed her--"Fret not thyself at all. I will see Cornelia and speak for thee. " Andthen he kissed her again and rode away. 

Very near the great entrance gates of Hyde Manor he met his father andmother walking. Madame, the Right Honourable the Countess of Hyde, waspointing out the many improvements she had made; and the Earl lookedpleased and happy. George threw himself off his horse with a lovingimpetuosity, and his mother questioned him about his manner of spendingthe previous day. "How could thou help knowing thy father had landed?"she asked. " Was not the whole city talking of the circumstance?"

"I was not in the city, mother. I went to the post office and from thereto Madame Jacobus. She was just leaving for Charleston, and I went withher to the boat. "

"What an incredible thing! Madame Jacobus leaving New York! For what?For why?"

"She has gone to nurse her sister-in-law, who is dying. That is of allthings the most likely--for she has a great heart. "

"You say that--I know not. "

"It is the truth itself. Afterwards I had my lunch and then came on afever and a distracting headache, and I was compelled to keep my room;and so heard nothing at all until my grandfather told me the good newsthis morning. "

"Madame Kippon was on the dock and saw thy father and cousin land. Thenews would be a hot coal in her mouth till she told it, and I am amazedshe did not call at thy lodging. Now go forward; when thy father and Ihave been round the land, we will come to thee. Thy cousin Annie ishere. "

"That confounds me. I could hardly believe it true. "

"She is frail, and her physicians thought the sea voyage might give herthe vitality she needs. It was at least a chance, and she was determinedto take it. Then thy father put all his own desires behind him, and camewith her. We will talk more in a little while. I see thy dress isuntidy, and I dare say thou art hungry. Go, eat and dress, by that timewe shall be home. "

But though his mother gave him a final charge "to make haste, " he wentslowly. The thought of Cornelia had returned to his memory with a sweet, strong insistence that carried all before it. He wondered what she wasdoing--how she was dressed--what she was thinking--what she was feeling---He wondered if she was suffering--if she thought he was suffering--ifshe was sorry for him--He made himself as wretched as possible, andthen some voice of comfort anteceding all reasoning, told him to be ofgood cheer; for if Cornelia had ever loved him, she must love himstill; and if she had only been amusing herself with his devotion, thenwhat folly to break his heart for a girl who had no heart worth talkingabout. 

Poor Cornelia! She was at that moment the most unhappy woman in NewYork. She had excused the "ten words" he might have written yesterday. She had found in the unexpected return of his father and cousin reasonsufficient for his neglect; but it was now past ten o'clock of anotherday, and there was yet no word from him. Perhaps then he was coming. Shesat at her tambour frame listening till all her senses and emotionsseemed to have fled to her ear. And the ear has memory, it watches foran accustomed sound, it will not suffer us to forget the voice, the stepof those we love. Many footsteps passed, but none stopped at the gate;none came up the garden path, and no one lifted the knocker. The houseitself was painfully still; there was no sound but the faint noise madeby Mrs. Moran as she put down her Dobbin or her scissors. The tensionbecame distressing. She longed for her father--for a caller--for any oneto break this unbearable pause in life. 

Yet she could not give up hope. A score of excuses came into her mind;she was sure he would come in the afternoon. He MUST come. She read andreread his letter. She dressed herself with delightful care and sat downto watch for him. He came not. He sent no word, no token, and as hourafter hour slipped away, she was compelled to drop her needle. 

"Mother, " she said, "I am not well. I must go upstairs. " She had beenholding despair at bay so many hours she could bear it no longer. Forshe was so young, and this was the first time she had been yoke-fellowwith sorrow. She was amazed at her own suffering. It seemed soimpossible. It had come upon her so swiftly, so suddenly, and as yet shewas not able to seek any comfort or sympathy from God or man. For to doso, was to admit the impossibility of things yet turning out right; andthis conclusion she would not admit; she was angry at a word or a lookthat suggested such a termination. 

The next morning she called Balthazar to her and closely questioned him. It had struck her in the night, that the slave might have lost theletter, and be afraid to confess the accident. But Balthazar's mannerand frank speech was beyond suspicion. He told her exactly what clothingLieutenant Hyde was wearing, how he looked, what words he said, and thenwith a little hesitation took a silver crown piece from his pocket andadded "he gave it to me. When he took the letter in his hand he lookeddown at it and laughed like he was very happy; and he gave me the moneyfor bringing it to him; that is the truth, sure, Miss Cornelia. "

She could not doubt it. There was then nothing to be done but wait inpatience for the explanation she was certain would yet come. But on withwhat leaden motion the hours went by! For a few days she made a pretenceof her usual employments, but at the end of a week her embroidery framestood uncovered, her books were unopened her music silent, and shedeclared herself unable to take her customary walk. Her mother watchedher with unspeakable sympathy, but Cornelia's grief was dumb; it made noaudible moan, and preserved an attitude which repelled all discussion. As yet she would not acknowledge a doubt of her lover's faith; hisconduct was certainly a mystery, but she told her heart with apassionate iteration that it would positively be cleared up. 

Now and then the Doctor, or a visitor, made a remark which might havebroken this implicit trust, and probably did facilitate that end; for itwas evident from them, that Hyde was in health, and that he was takinghis share in the usual routine of daily life:--thus, one day Mrs. Wileywhile making a call said--

"I met the new Countess and the Lady Annie Hyde, and I can tell you thenew Countess is very much of a Countess. As for the Lady Annie, " sheadded, "she was wrapped to her nose in furs, and you could see nothingof her but two large black eyes, that even at a distance made you feelsad and uncomfortable. However Lord George Hyde appeared to be very muchher servant. "

"There has been talk of a marriage between them, " answered Mrs. Moran, for she was anxious to put her daughter out of all question. "I shouldthink it would be a very proper marriage. "

"Oh, indeed, 'proper marriages' seldom come off. Love marriages are thefashion at present. "

"Are they not the most proper of all?"

"On the contrary, is there anything more indiscreet? Of a thousandcouples who marry for love, hardly one will convince us that the thingcan be done, and not repented of afterwards. "

"I think you are mistaken, " said Mrs. Moran coldly. " Love should alwaysseek its match, and that is love--or nothing. "

"Oh indeed! It is you are mistaken, " continued Mrs. Wiley. " As the timesgo, Cupid has grown to cupidity, and seeks his match in money orstation, or such things. "

"Money, or station, or such things find their match in money, orstation, or such things. --They are not love. "

"Well then the three may go together in this case. But the girl has anuncanny, unworldlike face. Captain Wiley says he has seen mermaids withthe same long look in their eyes. Do you know that Rem Van Ariens hasgone to Boston?"

"We have heard so;"--and then the Doctor entered, and after the usualformalities said, "I have just met Earl Hyde and his Countess paradingthemselves in the fine carriage he brought with him, 'Tis a thousandpities the President did not wait in New York to see the sight. "

"Was Lady Annie with them?" asked Mrs. Wiley, "we were just talkingabout her. "

"Yes, but one forgets that she is there--or anywhere. She seems as ifshe were an accident. "

"And the young lord?"

"The young lord affects the democratic. "

Such conversations were not uncommon, and Mrs. Moran could not with anyprudence put a sudden stop to them. They kept Cornelia full of wonderingirritation, and gradually drove the doubt into her soul--the doubt ofher lover's sincerity which was the one thing she could not fightagainst. It loosened all the props of life; she ceased to struggle andto hope. The world went on, but Cornelia's heart stood still; and at theend of the third week things came to this--her father looked at herkeenly one morning and sent her instantly to bed. At the last thebreakdown had come in a night, but it had found all ready for it. 

"She has typhoid, or I am much mistaken, " he said to the anxious mother. "Why have you said nothing to me? How has it come about? I have heard nocomplaining. To have let things go thus far without help is dreadful--itis almost murder. "

"John! John! What could I do? She could not bear me to ask after herhealth. She said always that she was not sick. She would not hear of myspeaking to you. I thought it was only sorrow and heart-ache. "

"Only sorrow and heart-ache. Is not that enough to call typhoid or anyother death? What is the trouble? Oh I need not ask, I know it is thatyoung Hyde. I feel it. I saw this trouble coming; now let me know thewhole truth. "

He listened to it with angry amazement. He said he ought to have beentold at the time--he threw aside all excuses--for being a man how couldhe understand why women put off, and hope, and suffer? He was sure therascal ought to have been brought to explanation the very first day:--and then he broke down and wept his wife's tears, and echoed all herpiteous moan for her daughter's wronged love and breaking heart. 

"What is left us now, is to try and save her dear life, " said themiserable father. " Suffering we cannot spare her. She must pass alonethrough the Valley of the Shadow; but it may be she will lose thissorrow in its dreadful paths. I have known this to happen often; forTHERE the soul has to strip itself of all encumbrances, and fight forlife, and life only. "

This was the battle waged in Doctor Moran's house for many awful weeks. The girl lay at Death's door, and her father and mother watched everybreath she drew. One day, while she was in extremity, the Doctor wenthimself to the apothecary's for medicine. This medicine was his lasthope and he desired to prepare it himself. As be came out of the storewith it in his hand, Hyde looked at him with a steady imploration. Hehad evidently been waiting his exit. 

"Sir!" he said, "I have heard a report that I cannot, I dare notbelieve. "

"Believe the worst--and stand aside, sir. I have neither patience norwords for you. "

"I beseech you, sir--"

"Touch me not! Out of my sight! Broadway is not wide enough for us two, unless you take the other side. "

"Your daughter? Oh sir, have some pity!"

"My daughter is dying. "

"Then sir, let me tell you, that your behaviour has been so brutal toher, and to me, that the Almighty shows both kindness and intelligencein taking her away:"--and with these words uttered in a blazing passionof indignation and pity, the young lord crossed to the other side of thestreet, leaving the Doctor confounded by his words and manner. 

"There is something strange here, " he said to himself; "the fellow maybe as bad as bad can be, but he neither looked nor spoke as if he hadwronged Cornelia. If she lives I must get to the bottom of this affair. I should not wonder if it is the work of Dick Hyde--earl or general--asdetestable a man as ever crossed my path. "

With this admission and wonder, the thought of Hyde passed from hismind; for at that hour the issue he had to consider was one of life ordeath. And although it was beyond all hope or expectation, Cornelia cameback to life; came back very slowly, but yet with a solemn calm and acertain air of conscious dignity, as of one victorious over death andthe grave. But she was perilously delicate, and the Doctor began toconsider the dangers of her convalescence. 

"Ava, " he said one evening when Cornelia had been downstairs awhile--"itwill not do for the child to run the risk of meeting that man. I see himon the street frequently. The apothecary says he comes to his store toask after her recovery nearly every day. He has not given her up, I amsure of that. He spoke to me once about her, and was outrageouslyimpudent. There is something strange in the affair, but how can I movein it?"

"It is impossible. Can you quarrel with a man because he has deceivedCornelia? How cruel that would be to the child! You must bear and I mustbear. Anything must be borne, rather than set the town wondering andtalking. "

"It is a terrible position. I see not how I can endure it. "

"Put Cornelia before everything. "

"The best plan is to remove Cornelia out of danger. Why not take her tovisit your brother Joseph? He has long desired you to do so. "

"Go to Philadelphia NOW! Joseph tells me Congress is in session, and thecity gone mad over its new dignity. Nothing but balls and dinners arethought of; even the Quakers are to be seen in the finest modes andmaterials at entertainments; and Cornelia will hardly escape the feverof fashion and social gaiety. She has many acquaintances there. "

"I do not wish her to escape it. A change of human beings is asnecessary as a change of air, or diet. She has had too much of GeorgeHyde, and Madame Jacobus, and Rem Van Ariens. "

"I hear that Rem is greatly taken with Boston, and thinks of opening anoffice there. "

"Very prudent of Rem. What chance has he in New York with Hamilton andBurr, to carry off all the big prey? Make your arrangements as soon aspossible to leave New York. "

"You are sure that you are right in choosing Philadelphia?"

"Yes--while Hyde is in New York. Write to your brother to-day; and assoon as Cornelia is a little stronger, I will go with you toPhiladelphia. "

"And stay with us?"

"That is not to be expected. I have too much to do here, "

CHAPTER X

LIFE TIED IN A KNOT

One morning soon after the New Year, Hyde was returning to the ManorHouse from New York. It was a day to oppress thought, and tighten theheart, and kill all hope and energy. There was a monotonous rain and asky like that of a past age--solemn and leaden--and the mud of the roadswas unspeakable. He was compelled to ride slowly and to feel in its fullforce, as it were, the hostility of Nature. As he reached his home therain ceased, and a thick mist, with noiseless entrance, pervaded all theenvironment; but no life, or sound of life, broke the melancholy senseof his utter desolation. 

He took the road by the lake because it was the nearest road to thestables, where he wished to alight; but the sight of the livid water, and of the herons standing motionless under the huge cedars by itsfrozen edges, brought to speech and expression that stifled grief, whichNature this morning had intensified, not relieved. 

"Those unearthly birds!" he said petulantly, "they look as if they hadescaped the deluge by some mistake. Oh if I could forget! If I couldonly forget! And now she has gone! She has gone! I shall never see heragain! "Grief feels it a kind of luxury to repeat some supreme cry ofmisery, and this lamentation for his lost love had this poignantsatisfaction. He felt New York to be empty and void and dreary, and theManor House with its physical cheer and comfort, and its store ofaffection, could not lift the stone from his heart. 

In spite of the chilling mist the Earl had gone to see a neighbour aboutsome land and local affairs, and his mother--oblivious of the coronet ofa countess--was helping her housekeeper to make out the list of allhousehold property at the beginning of the year 1792. She seemed alittle annoyed at his intrusion, and recommended to him a change ofapparel. Then he smiled at his forlorn, draggled condition, and went tohis room. 

Now it is a fact that in extreme dejection something good to eat, andsomething nice to wear, will often restore the inner man to his normalcomplacency; and when Hyde's valet had seen to his master's refreshmentin every possible way, Hyde was at least reconciled to the idea ofliving a little longer. The mud-stained garments had disappeared, and ashe walked up and down the luxurious room, brightened by the blazing oaklogs, he caught reflections of his handsome person in the mirror, and hebegan to be comforted. For it is not in normal youth to disdain thesmaller joys of life; and Hyde was thinking as his servant dressed himin satin and velvet, that at least there was Annie. Annie was alwaysglad to see him, and he had a great respect for Annie's opinions. Indeedduring the past few weeks they had been brought into dailycompanionship, they had become very good friends. So then the absence ofthe Earl and the preoccupation of his mother was not beyond comfort, ifAnnie was able to receive him. In spite of his grief for Cornelia'sremoval from New York, he was not insensible to the pleasure of Annie'sapproval. He liked to show himself to her when he knew he could appearto advantage; and there was nothing more in this desire, than thathealthy wish for approbation that is natural to self-respecting youth. 

He heard her singing as he approached the drawing-room, and he openedthe door noiselessly and went in. If she was conscious of his entranceshe made no sign of it, and Hyde did not seem to expect it. He glancedat her as he might have glanced at a priest by the altar, and wentsoftly to the fireside and sat down. At this moment she had a solemn, saintly beauty; her small pale face was luminous with spiritual joy, hereyes glowing with rapture, and her hands moving among the ivory keys ofthe piano made enchanting melody to her inspired longing

 Jerusalem the golden, With milk and honey blest, Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice oppressed. O one, O only mansion, O paradise of joy! Where tears are ever banished And smiles have no alloy. O sweet and blessed country! Shall I ever see thy face? O sweet and blessed country! Shall I ever win thy grace?

and as these eager impassioned words rose heavenward, it seemed to Hydethat her innocent, longing soul was half-way out of her frail littlebody. He did not in any way disturb her. She ceased when the hymn wasfinished and sat still a few moments, realizing, as far as she could, the glory which doth not yet appear. As her eyes dropped, the lightfaded from her face; she smiled at Hyde, a smile that seemed to lightall the space between them. Then he stood up and she came towards him. No wonder that strangers spoke of her as a child; she had the size andface and figure of a child, and her look of extreme youth was muchaccentuated by the simple black gown she wore, and by her carriage, forshe leaned slightly forward as she walked, her feet appearing to take nohold upon the floor; a movement springing INTERIORLY from the souleagerness which dominated her. Hyde placed her in a chair before thefire, and then drew his own chair to her side. 

"Cousin, " she said, "I am most glad to see you. Everybody has some workto do to-day. "

"And you, Annie?"

"In this world I have no work to do, " she answered. "My soul is here fora purchase; when I have made it I shall go home again. " And Hyde lookedat her with such curious interest that she added--"I am buyingPatience. "

"O indeed, that is a commodity not in the market. "

"I assure you it is. I buy it daily. Once I used to wonder what for Ihad come to earth. I had no strength, no beauty, nothing at all to buyEarth's good things with. Three years ago I found out that I had come tobuy for my soul, the grace of Patience. Do you remember what animperious, restless, hard-to-please, hard-to-serve girl I was? Now it isdifferent. If people do not come on the instant I call them, I rock mysoul to rest, and say to it 'anon, anon, be quiet, soul. ' If I suffermuch pain--and that is very often--I say Soul, it is His Will, you mustnot cry out against it. If I do not get my own way, I say, Soul, His Wayis best; and thus, day by day, I am buying Patience. "

"But it is not possible this can content you. You must have some otherhope and desire, Annie?"

"Perhaps I once had--and to-day is a good time to speak of it to you, because now it troubles me no longer. You know what my father desired, and what your father promised, for us both?"

"Yes. Did you desire it, Annie?"

"I do not desire it now. You were ever against it?"

"Oh Annie!--"

"It makes no matter, George. I shall never marry you. "

"Do you dislike me so much?"

"I am very fond of you. You are of my race and my kindred, and I loveevery soul of the Hydes that has ever tarried on this earth. "

"Well then?"

"I shall marry no one. I will show you the better way. Few can walk init, but Doctor Roslyn says, he thinks it may be my part--my happy part--to do so:" and as she spoke she took from the little pocket at herside a small copy of the gospels, and it opened of its own account atthe twentieth chapter of St. Luke. "See!" she said, "and read it foryourself, George--"

"The children of this world marry and are given in marriage. But theywhich shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and theresurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage. 

"Neither can they die any more; for they are equal unto the angels, andare the children of God, being the children of the resurrection. "[Footnote: St. Luke, chap. Xx. 34-36. ]

"To die no more! To be like unto the angels! To be the children of God!This is the end and aim of my desires, to be among 'the children ofGod!'"

"Dear Annie, I cannot understand this. "

"Not yet. It is not your time. My soul, I think, is ages older thanyours. It takes ages of schooling to get into that class that may leaveEarth forever, and be as the angels. Even now I know, I am sure that youare fretting and miserable for the love of some woman. For whose love, George? Tell me. "

Then Hyde plunged with headlong precipitancy into the story of his lovefor Cornelia, and of the inexplicably cruel way in which it had beenbrought to a close. "And yesterday, " he continued with a sob in hisvoice--"yesterday I heard that her father had taken her to Philadelphia. I shall see her no more. He will marry her to Rem Van Arenas, or to oneof her Quaker cousins, and the taste is taken out of my life, and I amonly a walking misery. "

"I do not believe it is Cornelia's fault. "

"Here is her letter. Read it. " Then Annie look the letter and afterreading it said, "If she be all you say, I will vow she wrote this inher sleep. I should like to see her. Why do you think wrong of her? Whatis love without faith in the one you love? Do you know first and finallywhat true love is? It is THINKING kindly and nobly. For if we GIVE allwe have, and DO all we can do, and yet THINK unkindly, it profits usnothing. Doctor Roslyn told me so. You remember him?"

"Your teacher?"

"My teacher, my friend, my father after the spirit. He told me that ourthoughts moulded our fate, because thought and life are one. So then, ifyou really love Cornelia, you must think good of her, and then good willcome. "

"If thought and life are one, Annie, if doing good, and giving good, arenothing to thinking good, and we are to be judged by our quality ofthinking, there will be a greater score against all of us, than we canimagine. I, for one, should not like to be brought face to face withwhat I think, and have thought about people; it would be an accountingbeyond my power to settle. "

"There is no accounting. If all the priests in Christendom tell you so, believe them not. Do you think God keeps a score against you? Do youthink the future is some torture chamber, or condemned cell? Oh, how youwrong God!"

"But we are taught, Annie, that the future must correct the past. "

"True, but the future, like the present, is a school--only a school. And the Great Master is so compassionate, so ready to help, so ready toenlighten, so sure to make out of our foolishness some wise thing. If welearn the lesson we came here to learn, He will say to us 'Well done'--and then we shall go higher. "

"If we do not learn it?"

"Ah then, we are turned back to try it over again! I should not like tobe turned back--would you ?"

"But He will punish us for failure. "

"Our earthly fathers are often impatient with us; His compassions failnot. Oh this good God!" she cried in an ecstasy--"Oh that I knew whereI might find Him! Oh that I could come into His presence!" and her eyesdilated, and were full of an incomparable joy, as if they were gazingupon some glorious vision, and glad with the gladness of the angels. 

Hyde looked at her with an intense interest. He wondered if this angeliclittle creature had ever known the frailties and temptations of mortallife, and she answered his thought as if he had spoken it aloud. 

"Yes, cousin, I have known all temptations, and come through alltribulations. My soul has wandered and lost its way, and been broughtback many and many a time, and bought every grace with much suffering. But God is always present to help, while quest followed quest, andlesson followed lesson, and goal succeeded goal; ever leaving some evilbehind, and carrying forward some of those gains which are eternal. "

"If Adam had not fallen!" sighed George, "things might have been sodifferent. "

"But the angels fell before Adam, " she answered. "I wonder if Adam knewabout the fallen angels? Did he know about death before he saw Abeldead? He was all day in the garden of Eden after eating of the fruit ofsin and death, and yet he did not put out his hand to take of the Treeof Life. Did he know that he was already immortal? Was he--and are we--fallen angels, working our way back to our first estate through manytrials and much suffering? Doctor Roslyn talked to me of these thingstill I thought I felt wings stirring within me. Wings! Wings! Wings tofly away and be at rest. Wings! they have been the dream of every raceand every age. Are they a memory of our past greatness, for they hauntus, and draw us on and on, and higher and higher?--but why do you lookso troubled and reluctant?"

Before Hyde could answer, the Earl came into the room and the young manwas glad to see his father. A conversation so unusual, so suggestive andcleaving made him unhappy. It took him up the high places that indeedgave him a startling outlook of life, but he was not comfortable at suchaltitude. He rose with something of this strange air about him, and theEarl understood what the trend of the conversation had been. For Anniehad talked much to him on such subjects, and he had been sensibly movedand impressed by the wisdom which the little maid had learned from hervenerable teacher. He lifted her head in passing, and kissed her browwith that reverent affection we feel for those who bring out what isnoblest and best in our character, and who lead us higher than our dailywalk. 

"My dear George, " he said, "I am delighted to see you. I was afraid youwould stay in the city this dreadful weather. Is there any news?"

"A great deal, sir. I have brought you English and French papers. "

"I will read them at my leisure. Give me the English news first. What isit in substance?"

"The conquest of Mysore and Madras. Seringapatam has fallen; and Tippoohas ceded to England one half his dominions and three millions ofpounds. The French have not now a foothold left in India, and 'CitizenTippoo' can no longer help the agents of the French Republic. Faith, sir! Cornwallis has given England in the east, a compensation for whatshe lost in the west. "

"To make nations of free men, is the destiny of our race, " replied theEarl. 

"Perhaps so; for it seems the new colony planted at Sydney Cove, Australia, is doing wonderfully; and that would mean an English empirein the south. "

"Yet, I have just read a proclamation of the French Assembly, calling onthe people of France 'TO ANNIHILATE AT ONCE, the white, clay-footedcolossus of English power and diplomacy. ' Anything else?"

"Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke are quarrelling as usual, and Mr. Pitt is makingthe excesses of France the excuse for keeping back reform in England. Itis the old story. I did not care to read it. The French papers telltheir side of it. They call Burke a madman, and Pitt a monster, and theMoniteur accuses them of having misrepresented the great French nation, and says, 'they will soon be laid prostrate before the statue ofLiberty, from which they shall only rise to mount the scaffold, etc. , etc. '"

"What bombastic nonsense!"

"Minister Morris is in the midst of horrors unmentionable. The otherforeign ministers have left France, and the French government isdeserted by all the world; yet Mr. Morris remains at his post, though hewas lately arrested in the street, and his house searched by armed men. "

"But this is an insult to the American nation! Why does he endure it? Heought to return home. "

"Because he will not abandon his duty in the hour of peril anddifficulty. Neither has the President given him permission to do so. Howcould he desert American citizens unlawfully imprisoned, Americanvessels unlawfully seized by French privateers, and American captainsdetained in French ports on all kinds of pretences. I think MinisterMorris is precisely where he should be, saving the lives of Americancitizens; many of whom are trembling to-day in the shadow of theguillotine. "

"It is to be hoped that Jefferson is now convinced of the execrablenature of these brutal revolutionists. "

"I can assure you, sir, he is not. He still excuses all theirabominations and says Minister Morris is a high-flying monarchy man, andnot to be taken without great allowance. I hear that Madame Kippon'sdaughter, whom Mr. Morris rescued at the last hour, has arrived in NewYork; and yesterday I met Mr. Van Ariens, who is exceedingly anxiousconcerning his daughter, the Marquise de Tounnerre. " "Is she in danger?I thought her husband was a leader in the new National Assembly. "

"He is among the Girondists. They are giving themselves airs and makingfine speeches at present--but--"

"But what?"

"Their day will be short. "

"What of the king?"

"The royal family are all prisoners in the Temple Tower. I do not dareto read the particulars; but not a single protest against theirbarbarity is made. Frenchmen who silently saw the Abbaye, the Force, andthe Carmes turned into human shambles three months ago, now hold theirpeace while murders no less horrible are being slowly done in theTemple. "

"They are inconceivable monsters. Poor little Arenta! What will she do?"

"I am not very uneasy for her; she has wit enough to save her life ifput to such extremes; her father is much to be pitied; and it isincredible, though true, that the great majority of our people are stillsinging the MARSEILLAISE, though every letter of it is washed in bloodand tears. "

"I am troubled about that pretty little Marquise. "

"She is clever and full of resource. I have had only one letter from hersince her marriage, and it was written to the word 'glories!' Sheseemed to be living in a blaze of triumph and very happy. But change isthe order of the day in France. "

"Say of the hour, and you are nearer the truth. "

"If Arenta is in trouble she will cry out, and call for help on everyhand. I never knew her to make a mistake where her own interests wereconcerned. I told her father yesterday that it would be very difficultto corner Arenta, and comforted him beyond my hope. "

During this conversation Annie was in a reverie which it in no waytouched. She had the faculty of shutting her ears to sounds she did notwish to take into her consciousness, and the French Revolution did notexist for her. She was thinking all the time of her Cousin George, andof the singular abruptness with which his love life had been cut short;and it was this train of thought which led her--when the murmur ofvoices ceased for a moment--to say impulsively:

"Uncle, it is my desire to go to Philadelphia, " The Earl looked at herwith incredulity. "What nonsense, Annie!" he exclaimed. "The thing isimpossible. "

"Why impossible?"

"For you, I mean. You would be very ill before the journey was half-finished. The roads, as George will tell you, are nearly impassable; andthe weather after this fog may be intensely cold. For you a journey toPhiladelphia would be an arduous undertaking, and one without anyreasonable motive. "

"Oh, indeed! Do you call George Washington an unreasonable motive? Iwish to see him. Imagine me within one hundred miles of this supremehero, and turning back to England without kissing his hand. I should belaughed at--I should deserve to be laughed at. "

"Yes, if the journey were an easier one. "

"To be sure, the roads and the cold will be trials; but then my uncle, you can give them to me, as God gives trials to His Beloved. He breaksthem up into small portions, and puts a night's sleep between theportions. Can you not also do this?"

"You little Methodist!" answered the Earl, with a tender gleam in hiseyes. "I see that I shall have to give you your own way. Will you gowith us, George?"

"It will be a relief. New York is in the dumps. Little Burr havingbeaten the Schuyler faction, thinks himself omnipotent; and this quarrelbetween Mr. Jay and Governor Clinton keeps every one else on the edge ofill-humour. All the dancing part of the town are gone to Philadelphia; Ihave scarcely a partner left; and there is no conversation now in NewYork that is not political. Burr, Schuyler, Jay, Clinton! even theclergy have gone horse and foot into these disputes. "

"Burr has a kind of cleverness; one must admit that. "

"He is under the curse of knowing everything. "

"Nevertheless his opinions will not alter the axis of the earth. It ishowever a dangerous thing to live in a community where politics are thestaple of talk, quarrels spring full armed from a word in such anatmosphere. "

"I have accommodated my politics, sir, to my own satisfaction; and Imake shift to answer people according to their idols. I vow, I am soweary of the words 'honour and honesty' that they beat a tattoo on mybrain. "

"When you are as old as I am, George, you will understand that thesewords are the coin, with which men buy office. The corruption ofcourtiers is a general article of faith, but the impudence of patriotsgoing to market with their honesty, beats courtly corruption to nothing. However, let us go to Philadelphia and see the play. That is what Anniedesires. "

"I desire to see Washington. I wish to see the greatest of Americans. "

"Let me tell you, Annie, " said the Earl, "that there never was a man inAmerica less American in character and habits, than Washington. "

"For all that, " interrupted George, "there will never come a man afterhim, that will be able to rob Washington of the first place in thehearts of the American nation. "

"Nor at this day can we judge him as he deserves, " added the Earl;" forhe is cramped and hustled by the crowd of nobodies around him. "

"I shall look at him, and I shall know him, " said Annie. "George tellsme that he is good and handsome to look at. "

"On horseback, " continued the Earl, "there is none like him; he is theideally perfect cavalier--graceful, dignified, commanding. Indeed sosuperb a man comes not twice in a generation. At Monmouth, where Icommanded a division, I remember him flying along the lines, cheeringthe men and restoring by his tremendous enthusiasm the fortunes of thefight to our standard. The grandest of men! You are right, Annie, itwould be a stupidity to go back to England without seeing him. "

This was the initial conversation which after some opposition, and alittle temper from madame the Countess, resulted in the Hyde familyvisiting Philadelphia. It was a great trial to the Countess to leave herown well ordered, comfortable home for apartments in an hotel; and shewas never done asserting it to be a great imprudence, as far as Anniewas concerned. But the girl was immovable, and as she was supported byher uncle and cousin, the Countess was compelled to acquiesce. Butreally she was so ready to find her pleasure in the pleasure of thoseshe loved, that this acquiescence was not an unmitigated trial. Shesuspected the motive for her son's eager desire for Philadelphia, and asshe had abandoned without much regret the hope of his marriage withAnnie Hyde, she was far from being disinclined to Cornelia. She hadaccustomed herself to the idea of Cornelia as mistress of the beautifulhome she had made. She was an American, and madame loved her country andwished her daughter-in-law to be of American lineage. She was aware thatsome trouble had come between the lovers, and she trusted that thisvisit might be the ground of a reconciliation. Without question, orplan, or even strong desire, she felt the wisdom of makingopportunities, and then leaving the improvement of them tocircumstances. 

So about the beginning of February the Hydes were settled inPhiladelphia more comfortably than could have been expected. A handsomehouse, handsomely furnished, had been found; and madame had brought withher the servants necessary to care for it, and for the family's comfort. And she was glad, when the weariness of the journey was over, to see hownaturally and pleasantly her husband and son took their places in thegay world around them. She watched the latter constantly, being sure shewould be able to read on his face, and by his manner and temper, whetheraffairs relating to Cornelia were favourable. 

In a week she had come to the conclusion that he was disappointed; whichindeed was very much the case. He could hear nothing of Cornelia. He hadnever once got a glimpse of her lovely countenance, and no scrutiny hadrevealed to him the place of her abode. Every house inhabited by aperson of the name of Willing, had been the object of his observation;but no form that by any possibility could be mistaken for hers, hadpassed in or out of their doors. He became ashamed of hauntingparticular streets, and fancied the ladies of certain houses watchedhim; and that the maids and menservants chattered and speculated abouthis motives. 

Every day when he went out Annie gave him an assuring smile, every daywhen he returned, she opened her eyes on him with the question in themshe did not care to formulate; and every day she received in an answeran almost imperceptible negative shake of the head, that slight as itwas, said despairingly, "I have not seen her. "

A month passed in this unfruitful searching misery, and Hyde was almosthopeless. The journey appeared to be altogether a failure; and he saidto Annie, "I am to be blamed for my selfishness in permitting you tocome here. I see that you have tired yourself to death for nothing atall. "

She gave her head a resolute little shake and answered, "Wait and see. Something is coming. You have no patience. "

"I assure you, Annie, I ought to have. I have been buying it every daysince we came to this detestable place. "

"The place is not to blame. Do you know that I am going to Mrs. Washington's reception to-morrow evening? I shall see the President. Hemay even speak to me; for my uncle says he appears there, only as aprivate gentleman. Cousin, you are to be my cavalier if it please you;and my uncle and aunt will attend us. "

"I am devotedly at your service, Annie; and I will at least point out toyou some of the dazzling beauties of our court--the splendid Mrs. Bingham, the Miss Allens, and Miss Chews, and the brilliant SallyMcKean. "

"And the lovely Cornelia Moran?"

"She will not be there. "

"My aunt says I must wear a white gown, and I shah do you all thejustice it is in my power to do. "

"I am always proud of you, Annie. There is no one like you. "

"Do not say that, George!" The few words were almost a cry; and sheclosed her eyes, and clasped her small hands tightly. 

"What have I said, Annie?"

"Nothing--nothing--only do not flatter me. "

"It is the very truth. "

"Let it pass?--it is nothing. " She was silent afterwards, like a personin pain; all her childlike gaiety gone; and Hyde having a full share ofa man's stupidity about matters of pure feeling, did not for one momentsuspect why his praise should give her pain. He thought her objectionmust come from some religious scruple. 

The next evening however he had every reason to feel proud of hiscousin. She was really an exquisite little creature; angels would havegiven her all she wished, she was so charming. The touch of phantasy andflame in her nature illumined her face, and no one could look at herwithout feeling that a fervent and transparent soul gazed from eyes, solambent with soft spiritual fire. This impression was enhanced by herchildlike gown of white crape over soft white silk; it suggested hersweet fretless life, and also something unknown and unseen in her verysimplicity. 

Hyde, who was dressed in the very finest mode, was proud to take her onhis arm; and the Earl watched them with a fond and faithful hope thatall would soon fall out as he desired it. He could not indeed imagine aman remaining unimpressed by a beauty so captivating to the highestsenses. "It will be as we wish, " he said to his Countess as they watchedthem entering the waiting coach; and she answered with that smile ofadmission, which has always its reserved opinion. 

Mrs. Washington's parlours were crowded when they entered them, but thesplendid throng gave the highest expression of their approval possible, by that involuntary silence which indicates a pleased astonishment. TheEarl at once presented his niece to Mrs. Washington, and afterwards tothe President, who as a guest of Mrs. Washington was walking about therooms talking to the ladies present. Resplendent in purple and whitesatin and the finest of laces, the august man captivated Lady Annie atthe first glance. She curtsied with inimitable grace, and would havekissed the hand he held out to her, had he permitted the homage. For afew minutes he remained in conversation with the party, then he wentforward, and Hyde turning with his beautiful charge, met Cornelia faceto face. 

They looked at each other as two disembodied souls might meet and lookafter death--reproaching, questioning, entreating, longing. Hyde flushedand paled, and could not for his very life make the slightest effort atrecognition or speech. Not a word would come. He knew not what word tosay. Cornelia who had seen his entry was more prepared. She gave him onelong look of tender reproach as she passed, but she made no movement ofrecognition. If she had said one syllable--if she had paused one moment--if she had shown in any way the least desire for a renewal of theiracquaintance, Hyde was sure his heart would have instantly responded. Asit was, they had met and parted in a moment, and every circumstance hadbeen against him. For it was the most natural thing in life, that heshould, after his cousin's interview with Washington, stoop to her wordswith delight and interest; and it was equally natural for Cornelia toput the construction on his attentions which every one else did. Thenbeing angry at her apparent indifference, he made these attentions stillmore prominent; and Cornelia heard on every hand the confirmation of herown suspicions: "They are to be married at Easter. What a delightfullittle creature!"

"They have loved each other all their lives. "

"The Earl is delighted with the marriage. "

"He is the most devoted of lovers. "

And there was not a word of dissent from this opinion until pretty SallyMcKean said, "A fig for your prophecies! George Hyde has loved andgalloped away a score of times. I would not pay any more attention tohis proposals and promises, than I would pay to the wind that blowswhere it listeth; here to-day, and somewhere else to-morrow. "

To all these speculations Cornelia forced herself to listen with a calmunalterable; and Hyde and Annie watched her from a distance. "So that isthe marvellous beauty!" said Annie. 

"Is she not marvellously beautiful?" asked Hyde. 

"Yes. I will say that much. But why did she look at you with so much ofreproach? What have you done to her?"

"That is it. What have I done? Or left undone?"

"Who is the gentleman with her?"

"I know not. She has many relatives here; wealthy Quakers, and some ofthem doubtless of the new order, who do not disdain the frivolity offine clothing. "

"Indeed, I assure you the Quakers were ever nice in their taste forsilks and velvets and laces. The man is handsome enough even to be herescort. And to judge by appearances he is her devoted servant. Will youregard them, cousin?"

"I do. Alas, I see nothing else! She is more lovely then ever. "

"She is wonderfully dressed. That gown of pale blue and silver wouldmake any woman look like an angel?-but indeed she is lovely beyondcomparison. There are none like her in this room. It will be a thousandpities if you lose her. "

"I shall be inconsolable. "

"You may have another opportunity even tonight. I see that my aunt isapproaching with a young lady, if you do not wish to make a newacquaintance, go and try to meet Cornelia again. "

"Thank you, Annie. You can tell me what I have missed afterwards. "

He wandered through the parlours speaking to one and another but ever onthe watch for Cornelia. He saw her no more that night. She had withdrawnas soon as possible after meeting Hyde, and he was so miserablydisappointed, so angry at the unpropitious circumstances which haddominated their casual meeting, that he hardly spoke to anyone as theyreturned home; and was indeed so little interested in other affairsthat he forgot until the next day to ask Annie whose acquaintance he hadrather palpably refused. 

"You cannot guess who it was, " said Annie in answer to his query;" so Iwill make a favour of telling you. Do you remember the Rev. Mr. Darner, rector of Downhill Market?"

"Very well. He preached very tiresome sermons. "

"The young lady was his daughter Mary. "

"'Tis a miracle! What is Mary Darner doing in America?"

"She is on a visit to her cousin, who is married to the Governor ofMassachusetts. He is here on some state matter, and as Miss Damer alsowished to see Washington, he brought her with him. "

"Mary Damer! We went nutting together one autumn. She came often to HydeCourt when I was a lad. "

"And she promises to come often to see me when I return to England. Iwonder what we have been brought together for. There must be a reasonfor a meeting so unlikely--Can it be Cornelia?"

"'Tis the most improbable of suppositions. I do not suppose she ever sawCornelia. "

"She had not even heard of her--and yet my mind will connect them. "

"You have no reason to do so; and it is beyond all likelihood. I amsorry I went away from Mary. "

"She took no notice of your desertion. "

"That is, as maybe. I was a mere lad when I saw her last. Is shepassable?"

"She is extremely handsome. My aunt heard that she is to marry a Bostongentleman of good promise and estate. I dare say it is true. "

It was so true that even while they were speaking of the matter Mary waswriting these words to her betrothed :" Yesterday I met the Hydes. Youknow my father has the living of Downhill Market from them, and I had aconstraint on me to be agreeable. The young Lord got out of my way. Didhe imagine I had designs on him? I look for a better man. What fatebrought us together in Philadelphia, I know not. I may see a great dealof them in the coming summer, and then I may find out. At present I willdismiss the Hydes. I have met pleasanter company. "

Annie dismissed the subject with the same sort of impatience. It seemedto no one a matter of any importance, and even Annie that day had noneof the penetrative insight which belongs to

 "that finer atmosphere, Where footfalls of appointed things, Reverberant of days to be, Are heard in forecast echoings, Like wave beats from a viewless sea. "

As for Hyde, he was shaken, confused, lifted off his feet, as it were;but after another day had passed, he had come to one steady resolution--HE WOULD SPEAL TO CORNELIA WHEN NEXT HE MET HER, NO MATTER WHERE IT WAS, OR WHO WAS WITH HER. And that passionate stress of spirit which inducedthis resolve, led him also to go out and seek for this opportunity. 

For nearly a week he kept this conscious, constant watch. Its insistingsorrowful longing was like a cry from Love's watch towers, but it didnot reach the beloved one; or else she did not answer it. One brightmorning he resolved to walk through the great dry goods stores--Whiteside's, Guest's, and the famous Mrs. Holland's, where the beautiesof the "gay Quakers" bought their choicest fabrics in foreign chintzes, lawns, and Indian muslins. All along Front, Arch, and Walnut Streets, the pavements were lumbered with boxes and bales of fine imported goods, and he was getting impatient of the bustle and pushing, when he sawAnthony Clymer approaching him. The young man was driving a new and veryspirited team, and as he with some difficulty held them, he called toHyde to come and drive with him. Hyde was just in the weary mood thatwelcomed change, and he leaped to his friend's side, and felt a suddenexhilaration in the rapid motion of the buoyant, active animals. Afteran hour's driving they came to a famous hostelry, and Clymer said, "Letus give ourselves lunch, and the horses bait and a rest, then we willmake them show their mettle home again. "

The proposal met with a hearty response, and the young men had aluxurious meal and more good wine than they ought to have taken. ButHyde had at last found some one who could talk of Cornelia; rave of herface and figure, and vow she was the topmost beauty in Philadelphia. Helistened, and finally asked where she dwelt, and learned that she wasstaying with Mr. Theodore Willing, a wealthy gentleman of the strictestQuaker principles, but whose son was one of the "feeble men or wetQuakers" who wore powder and ruffles and dressed like a person offashion. 

"He dangles around the bewitching Miss Moran, and gives no other man achance, " said Clymer spitefully. "It is the talk from east to west, and'tis said, he is so enamoured of the beauty, that he will have her, ifhe buy her. "

"Do you talk in your sleep? Or do you tell your dreams for truth?" askedHyde angrily. "'Tis not to be believed that a girl so lovely can bebought by mere pounds sterling. A woman's heart lies not so near herhand--God's mercy for it! or any fool might seize it. "

"What are you raging at? She is not your mistress. "

"Let us talk of horses--or politics--or the last play--or anything butwomen. They breed quarrels, if you do but name them. "

"Content. I will tell you a good story about Tom Herring, "

The story was evidently a good one, for Hyde laughed at the recital witha noisy merriment very unusual to him. The champ and gallop of thehorses, and Clymer's vociferous enjoyment of his own wit, blended withit; and for a moment or two Hyde was under a physical exhilaration asintoxicating as the foam of the champagne they had been drinking. In theheight of this meretricious gaiety, a carriage, driving at a ratherrapid rate turned into the road; and Cornelia suddenly raised her eyesto the festive young men, and then dropped them with an abrupt, evenangry expression. 

Hyde became silent and speechless, and Clymer was quickly infected bythe very force and potency of his companion's agitation and distressedsurprise. He heard him mutter, "Oh this is intolerable!" and then, itwas, as if a cold sense of dislike had sprung up between them. --Bothwere glad to escape the other's company, and Hyde fled to the privacy ofhis own room, that he might hide there the almost unbearable chagrin andmisery this unfortunate meeting had caused him. 

"Where shall I run to avoid myself?" he cried as he paced the floor inan agony of shame. "She will never respect me again. She ought not. I amthe most wretched of lovers. Such a tom-fool to betray me as AnthonyClymer! A man like a piece of glass, that I have seen through a dozentimes!" Then he threw himself into a chair and covered his face with hishands, and wept tears full of anger and shameful distress. 

For some days sorrow, and confusion, and distraction bound his senses;he refused all company, would neither eat, nor sleep, nor talk, and helooked as white and wan as a spectre. A stupid weight, a dismal sullenstillness succeeded the storm of shame and grief; and he felt himself tobe the most forlorn of human beings. If it had been only possible toundo things done! he would have bought the privilege with years. Atlength, however, the first misery of that wretched meeting passed away, and then he resolved to forget. 

"It is all past!" he said despairingly. "She is lost to me forever! Hermemory breaks my heart! I will not remember any longer! I will forfeitall to forgetfulness. Alas, alas, Cornelia! Though you would not believeme, it was the perfectest love that I gave you!"

Cornelia's sorrow, though quite as profound, was different in character. Her sex and various other considerations taught her more restraint; butshe also felt the situation to be altogether unendurable, and after afew moments of bitterly eloquent silence, she said--

"Mother, let us go home. I can bear this place no longer. Let us go hometo-morrow. Twice this past week I have been made to suffer more than youcan imagine. The man is apparently worthless--but I love him. "

"You say 'apparently' Cornelia?"

"Oh, how can I tell? There may be excuses--compulsions--I do not knowwhat. I am only sure of one thing, that I love and suffer. "

For despite all reason, despite even the evidence of her own eyes, Cornelia kept a reserve. And in that pitiful last meeting, there hadbeen a flash from Hyde's eyes, that said to her--she knew not what ofunconquerable love and wrong and sorrow--a flash swifter than lightningand equally potential. It had stirred into tumult and revolt all theplatitudes with which she had tried to quiet her restless heart; madeher doubtful, pitiful and uncertain of all things, even while herlover's reckless gaiety seemed to confirm her worst suspicions. And shefelt unable to face constantly this distressing dubious questioning, sothat it was with almost irritable entreaty she said, "Let us go home, mother. "

"I have desired to do so for two weeks, Cornelia, " answered Mrs. Moran. "I think our visit has already been too long. "

"My Cousin Silas has now begun to make love to me; and his mother andsisters like it no better than I do. I hate this town with its rampant, affected fashion and frivolities! It is all a pretence! The people arenaturally saints, and they are absurd and detestable, scheming to makethe most of both worlds--going to meeting and quoting texts--and thenplaying that they are men and women of fashion. Mother, let us go homeat once. Lucinda can pack our trunks to-day, and we will leave in themorning. "

"Can we go without an escort?"

"Oh yes, we can. Lucinda will wait on us--she too is longing for NewYork--and who can drive us more carefully than Cato? And my dear mother, if Silas wants to escort us, do not permit him. Please be very positive. I am at the end of my patience. I am like to cry out! I am so unhappy, mother!"

"My dear, we will go home to-morrow. We can make the journey in shortstages. Do not break down now, Cornelia. It is only a little longer. "

"I shall not break down--if we go home. " And as the struggle to resistsorrow proves the capacity to resist it, Cornelia kept her promise. Asthey reached New York her cheerfulness increased, and when they turnedinto Maiden Lane, she clapped her hands for very joy. And oh, howdelightful was the pleasant sunny street, the familiar houses, the briskwind blowing, the alert cheerful looking men and women that greeted eachother in passing with lively words, and bright smiles! O how delightfulthe fresh brown garden, in which the crocuses were just beginning topeep, the bright looking home, the dear father running with gladsurprise to greet them, the handsome, pleasant rooms, the refreshingtea, the thousand small nameless joys that belong to the little darlingword "HOME. "

She ran upstairs to her own dear room, laid her head on her pillow, satdown in her favourite chair, opened her desk, let in all the sunshineshe could, and then fell with holy gratitude on her knees and thankedGod for her sweet home, and for the full cup of mercies He had given herto drink in it. 

When she went downstairs the mail had just come in, and the Doctor satbefore a desk covered with newspapers and letters. "Cornelia, " he criedin a voice full of interest, "here is a letter for you--a long letter. It is from Paris. "

"It is from Arenta!" she exclaimed, as she examined the large sheetsclosed with a great splash of red wax, bearing the de Tounnerre crest. It had indeed come from Paris, the city of dreadful slaughter, yetCornelia opened it with a smiling excitement, as she said again:--

"It is from Arenta!"

CHAPTER XI

WE HAVE DONE WITH TEARS AND TREASONS

"Here is a letter from Arenta!" repeated the Doctor to his wife, who wasjust entering the room, "Come, Ava, and listen to what she has to say. Ihave no doubt it will be interesting. " Then Cornelia read aloud thefollowing words:

MY DEAR FRIEND CORNELIA:

If to-day I could walk down Maiden Lane, if to-day I could see you andtalk to you, I should imagine myself in heaven. For as to this city, Ithink that in hell the name of "Paris" must have spread itself far andwide. Indeed I often wonder if I am yet on the earth, or if I have goneaway in my sleep to the country of the devil and his angels. Even as Iam writing to you, my pen is shaking with terror, for I hear the tumbrelcome jolting along, and I know that it is loaded with innocent men andwomen who are going to the guillotine; and I know also that it isaccompanied by a mob of dreadful creatures--mostly women--for I hearthem singing--no, screaming--in a kind of rage, "Ca ira les aristocrates a la lanterne!"

Do you remember our learning in those happy days at Bethlehem of theslaughter of Christians by Nero? Very well; right here in the Paris ofMarat and Robespierre, you may hear constantly the same brutal cry thatfilled the Rome of the Caesars--"DEATH TO THE CHRISTIANS!" Famine, anarchy, murder, are everywhere; and I live from moment to moment, trembling if a step comes near me. For Athanase is imprudence itself. His opinions will be the death of him. He will not desert theGirondists, though Mr. Morris tells him their doom is certain. Marat isagainst them, and the Jacobins--who are deliriously wicked--are againstthem, and the mob of the Faubourgs is against them; and this mob isalways of one mind, always on the spot, and always hungry and ready foranarchy and blood. Besides which, they are already accused of havingsold themselves to Mr. Pitt. Very often I have heard my dear fathertalking of universal suffrage as the bulwark of liberty; well then, wehave now, and here, an universal suffrage that is neither a fraud nor afiction; and as Athanase says, "it is expressing itself every minute, inthe crimes of the Holy Guillotine. "

And yet Paris makes a pretence of being gay and of enjoying itself. Wego to the theatre and the opera, and we dance, as it were, red, wet-shodto the hideous strains of the Carmagnole. It is indeed a dance of death. The other night we were at a reception given by Madame Talma to thevictorious General Dumouriez. All the Brissot party were there. Yourfather will remember Brissot de Warville very well. He was greatlypetted by Mrs. Jay and the aristocracy of New York and Philadelphia. Jefferson made a friend of him, and even Washington talked with himabout his book on our country. Then he passed himself off as a noble, but he is really the son of an innkeeper. I had so often heard of him, that I regarded with interest his pale face and grave, melancholymanner. He was accompanied by Camille Desmoulins, and by Danton; thelatter a man almost terrible in his ugliness. David, the painter ofSocrates, was there; he had his hair frizzed, and was dressedsplendidly; and with him was Chenier, more tragic looking than any ofhis plays. The salons were filled with flowers and beautiful women;among them the majestic Madame Vestris, and the lovely MademoiselleCandeille, who was singing a song when there arose a suddenindescribable noise, growing louder and louder, and then the cry ofMARAT! MARAT! and the "Friend of the People" entered. Now I shall sparea few minutes to tell you, that no one has made frightful enough hislarge bony face, his thin lips and his livid complexion. He wore an oldcarmagnole, a dirty handkerchief twisted about his neck, leatherbreeches, shoes without stockings, and a piece of red cotton round hishead, from which there hung a few locks of greasy hair. A nervoustwitching keeps him constantly moving, and he has the leprosy:--this iswell known. He walked straight to Dumouriez, who said disdainfully, "Ah!are you the man they call Marat?" Marat immediately demanded from him anaccount of military measures he had taken. They had some sharpconversation which I did not hear, and Marat finally went away utteringthe most insulting threats, and leaving every one in a state of mortalterror. The next day the newsboys were shouting "the discovery of agreat plot by Marat, the Friend of the People! Great meeting ofAristocrats at Talmas, etc. "

This is the kind of pleasure we have; as to religion, there is no longerany religion. Everywhere the Almighty is spoken of as the "soi-disantGod. " The monarchy is abolished, and yet so ignorant are the leaders ofthe people, that when Brissot mentioned the word Republic in Petion'shouse, Robespierre said with a grin, "Republic! Republic! what's arepublic?" Spying, and fear, and death penetrate into the most privatehouses; above all, fear, constant fear of every one with whom you comein contact. This feeling is so universal, that some one has conjugatedit thus--I am afraid--Thou art afraid--He is afraid--We are afraid--You are afraid--They are afraid--For as death has been officiallydeclared "an endless sleep" any crime is possible; the mob have no fearof hell, and as for the guillotine, it is their opera and theirperpetual comedy. Very soon these things must bring on France thechastisement of the Lord; and I shall not be sorry for it. 

I have told you the truth about our condition, because I have just had aletter from my father, and he talks of leaving his business in ClausBergen's care, and coming here to look after me. You must convince him, that he could do me no good whatever, and that he might do me much harm. He is outspoken as a Zealander, and what is in his head and his heart, would come to his lips; also, if it should come to flight, he wouldembarrass me very much. Tell him not to fear; Arenta says, not to fear. I may indeed have to take a seat in "the terrible armchair" [Footnote:The chair in which the accused sat before the Revolutionary Tribunal andfrom which they usually went to the guillotine. ] but I shall not go tothe guillotine; I know that. While Minister Morris is here I have afriend that can do all that can be done. I have had a few letters fromRem, but they do not satisfy me. He is in love, AND NOT WITH YOU. Willyou please inform me what that means? Say to Aunt Angelica that I amastonished at her silence; and ask our good Domine to pray that I maysoon return to a country where God reigns. Never again do I wish tospend one minute in a place where there is no God; for whatever they maycall that place, its real name is hell. Write me a long letter and tellme all the news of New York, and with my respectful remembrance to yourdear father and mother, I am always your loving friend, ARENTA, MARQUISEDE TOUNNERRE. 

"Poor Arenta!" said the Doctor when Cornelia had finished the wretchedepistle. "She is however showing the mettle of the race from which shesprang. The spirit of the men who fought Alva is in her, and I think shewill be a match for Marat, if it comes to that. Suppose you go and seeVan Ariens, and give him all the comfort you can. Are you too weary?"

"I should like to see him, I am not tired now. Home is such a gooddoctor. "

"I think you will find him in his house. He comes from his office veryearly these days. "

Cornelia crossed the street and was going to knock at the door, when VanAriens hastily opened it. His broad face shone with pleasure, and whenCornelia told him her errand, he was in a hurry of loving anxiety tohear what his child had written. 

"I understand, " he said, when he had heard the letter. "She isfrightened, the poor little one! but she will smile and say 'it isnothing. ' That is her way. However, I yet think I must go to her. "

"Do not, " urged Cornelia. "France is now at war with Holland, and youwould be recognized as a Dutchman. "

"That is so. My tongue would tell tales on me; and to go--even toheaven--by the guillotine, is not what a good man would wish. Noindeed!"

"And you may see by Arenta's letter, that she does not fear theguillotine. Come over to-night and talk to my father and mother, and Iwill tell you what I saw in Philadelphia. "

"Well then, I will come. "

"Is Madame Jacobus back in New York yet?"

"She is in London. "

"But why in London?"

"That, I know not. Two reasons I can suppose, but which is right, or ifeither be right, that is beyond my certainty. "

"Is her sister-in-law dead?"

"She is dead. Her husband was an Englishman; perhaps then it is aboutsome property in England she has gone. If it is not that, of nothingelse can I think but Captain Jacobus. But my sister Angelica had evertwo ways--nothing at all she would say about her money or her business;but constantly, to every one, she would talk of her husband. I thinkthen it is money or property that has taken her to England. For if ithad been Jacobus, to the whole town she would have told it. " Then hetook both Cornelia's hands in his, and looking at her earnestly said--

"Poor Rem! Impossible is it?"

"Quite impossible, sir, " she answered. 

"When he got thy letter refusing his love and offer, he went to Boston. I think he will not come back to me. I am very sorry, " he said simply, and he let her hands drop. 

"I am sorry also--for your sake. I hear however that Rem is doing wellin Boston. "

"Better than his hopes. Very good fortune has come to him. "

"And you, sir?"

"I am not doing much at present--but Smith and Warren do less. In anhour or two to your house I will come. There is plenty to talk about. "

The next day Cornelia walked down Broadway to Madame Jacobus' house. Itwas closed and desolate looking, and she sighed as she compared its oldbright spotless comfort, with its present empty forlornness. The changetypified the change in her heart and love, but ere she could entertainthe thought, her eyes fell upon the trees in the garden, full of thepale crinkled leaves of spring, and she saw the early flowers breakingthrough the dark earth, and the early shrubs bursting into white andgolden blooms. In some way they had a message for her; and she went homewith hope budding in her heart. Soon after Mrs. Moran heard her singingat her work, "The far east glows, The morning wind blows fresh and free; Should not the hour that wakes the rose Awaken thee? No longer sleep-- Oh listen now! I wait and weep, But where art thou?"

From one to another song she went, simple melodies all of them, delightful little warblings of love, which except for their gladness andloyalty, had nothing in them to charm. 

She was a deserted maiden. Her lover had palpably and with extremecruelty deceived her; but she had grieved, and forgiven. And love bringsits reward, even if unrequited. Those who love, and have loved, are thebetter for the revelation; for love for love's sake enriches and blessesthe lover to the very end of life. She did not forget, for love haseverlasting remembrance; and she did not wish to forget, for a greataffection is a great happiness, and the whole soul can find shelter init. 

Neither were her days monotonous or unhappy. All the real pleasures oflife lie in narrow compass; and she found herself very often a littlehurried for want of time. She had not, it is true, the resources of thewoman of to-day--no literary, musical, social, or sporting clubs existedfor Cornelia; but she had duties and devices that made every momentpleasant or profitable. Many hours daily were given to fine needlework--calm quiet hours full of thought as well as work; she had her music topractice, new books and papers to read, calls to make, mantua makers andmilliners to interview, dinners and dances and tea-parties to attend, shopping to look after, delicate bits of darning and mending to exerciseher skill on, creams and pasties and cakes to prepare, visitors towelcome and entertain, and many other duties which sprang up--as extrasdo--unexpectedly, and yet which opened the door for very pleasantsurprises and events. 

Besides which, there was her father. After her return from school shehad always driven with him to some extent; but his claim on her now wasoften a little exacting. He said the fresh spring winds were good forher, and that she stayed in the house too much, and there was no evadingthe dictum that came with both parental and medical authority. Perhapsthis demand upon her time would not have been made if the Hydes had beenin New York; but Doctor Moran by frequent inquiries satisfied himselfthat they were yet in Philadelphia; and for his daughter's satisfactionhe frequently said as they drove up Maiden Lane, "We will take theGreenwich Road, there is no fear of our meeting any one we do not wishto see. " She understood the allusion, and was satisfied to escapemeetings that promised her nothing but pain. 

In the month of May there occurred one of those wet spells which are soirritating "growing weather" of course, but very tiresome to those whofelt the joy of spring escaping them. Week after week it was too damp, or the winds were too sharp, or the roads too heavy for quick driving, and thus the month of all months went out of the calendar with few redletter days to brighten it. Then June came in royally, and Cornelia wasglad of the sunshine and the breeze and the rapid canter; and for a weekor two she was much out with her father. But he was now ever on thewatch, and she judged from the circumstance that the Hydes were back inNew York. Besides which, he did not any longer give her the assurance ofnot meeting any one they did not wish to see. 

One exquisite day as they went up Maiden Lane the Doctor said--" Myfriend General Hewitt sails for England to-day, and we will go and wishhim a good voyage. " So to the pier they went, and the Doctor left hiscarriage, and taking Cornelia on his arm walked down to where theEnglish packet was lying. They were a little too late to go on board, for the shoremen were taking away the gang-plank, and the sailorspreparing to lift the anchor; but the General stood leaning over theside of the vessel, and exchanged some last words with his friend. 

 [Illustration: "SHE WAVED HIM AN ADIEU"]

While Cornelia listened, she became suddenly conscious of the powerfulmagnetism of some human eye, and obeying its irresistible attraction shesaw George Hyde steadily regarding her. He stood by the side of hisfather, as handsome as on that May morning when he had first looked loveinto her heart. She was enthralled again by his glance, and never forone moment thought of resisting the appeal it made to her. With aconscious tenderness she waved him an adieu whose spirit he could notbut feel. In the same moment he lifted his hat and stood bareheadedlooking at her with a pathetic inquiry, which made her inwardly cry out, "Oh, what does he mean?" The packet was moving--the wind filled theblowing sails--the hoarse crying of the sailormen blended with the"good-byes" of the passengers--and the Earl, aware of the sad andsilent parting within his sight--moved away as Cornelia again waved amute farewell to her lost lover. Then the Doctor touched her--

"Why do you do that?" he asked angrily. 

"Because I must do it, father; I cannot help it. I desire to do it. "

"I am in a hurry; let us go home. "

Filling her eyes with the beauty of the splendid looking youth stillstanding bareheaded watching her, seeing even such trivial things as hislong cloak thrown backward over his shoulder, his white hand holding hislifted hat, and the wind-tossed curls of his handsome head, she turnedaway with a sigh. The Doctor drove rapidly to Maiden Lane and did not onthe way speak a word; and Cornelia was glad of it. That image of herlover standing on the moving ship watching her with his heart in hiseyes, filled her whole consciousness. Never would it be possible for herto forget it, or to put any other image in its place. She thanked hergood angel for giving her such a comforting memory; it seemed as if thesting had been taken out of her sorrow. Henceforward she was resolved tolove without a doubt. She would believe in Joris, no matter what she hadseen, or what she had heard. There were places in life to which alas!truth could not come; and this might be one of them. Though all theworld blamed her lover, she would excuse him. Her heart might ache, hereyes might weep, but in that aching heart and in those weeping eyes, hissplendid image would live in that radiant dimness which makes the unseenface, often more real than the present one. 

Doctor Moran divined something of this resolute temper, and it made himsilent. He felt that his daughter had come to a place where she had putreason firmly aside, and given her whole assent to the assurances of herintuition. He had no arguments for an antagonism of this kind. Whatcould he say to a soul that presaged a something, and then believed it?His instinctive sagacity told him that silence was now the part ofwisdom. But though he took her silently home he was conscious of a greatrelief. His watch was over. 

Now a woman's intuition is like a leopard's spring, it seizes the truth--if it seize it at all--at the first bound; and it was by thisunaccountable mental agility Cornelia had arrived at the conviction ofher lover's fidelity. At any rate, she felt confident, that ifcircumstances had compelled him to be false to her, the wrong had beensincerely mourned; and she was able to forgive the offence that wasblotted out with tears. She reflected also, that now he was so far away, it would be possible for her to call upon Madame Van Heemskirk, and alsoupon Madame Jacobus as soon as she returned; but if Hyde had remained inNew York, these houses would necessarily be closed to her, for he was aconstant visitor at both. 

She resolved therefore to call upon Madame Van Heemskirk the followingweek. She expected the old lady might treat her a little formally, perhaps even with some coldness, but she thought it worth while to testher kindness. Joris had once told her that his grandfather andgrandmother both approved their love, and they must know of hisdesertion, and also of the reason for it. Yet there was in her heartsuch a reluctance to take any step that had the appearance of seekingher lost lover, that she put off this visit day after day, finding inthe weather or in some household duty always a fair excuse for doing so, until one morning the Doctor said at breakfast:

"Councillor De Vrees died yesterday, and there is to be a great funeral. Every Dutchman in town will be there, and many others beside, He hasleft an immense fortune. "

"Who told you this?" asked Mrs. Moran. 

"I met Van Heemskirk and his wife going there. Madame De Vrees is theirdaughter. Now you will see great changes take place. "

"What do you mean, John?"

"Madame De Vrees has long wanted to build a mansion equal to theirwealth, but the Councillor would never leave the house he built at theirmarriage. Madame will now build, and her children take their placesamong the great ones of the city. De Vrees was an oddity; very fewpeople will be sorry to lose him. He had no good quality but money, andhe was the most unhappy of men about its future disposal. I neverunderstood until I knew him, how wretched a thing it is to be merelyrich. "

This conversation again put off Cornelia's visit, and she virtuallyabandoned the idea. Then one morning Mrs. Moran said, "Cornelia, I wishyou to go to William Irvin's for some hosiery and Kendal cottons. It isa new store down the Lane at number ninety, and I hear his cloths arestrangely cheap. Go and examine them for me. "

"Very well, mother. I will also look in at Fisher's;" and it was atFisher's that she saw Madame Van Heemskirk. She was talking to Mr. HenryFisher as they advanced from the back of the store, and Cornelia hadtime to observe that madame was in deep mourning, and that she had grownolder looking since she had last seen her. As they came forward madameraised her eyes and saw Cornelia, and then hastily leaving the merchant, she approached her. 

"Good-morning, madame, " said Cornelia, with a cheerful smile. 

"Good-morning, miss. Step aside once with me. A few words I have to sayto you;" and as she spoke she drew Cornelia a little apart from thecrowd at the counter, and looking at her sternly, said--

"One question only--why then did you treat my grandson so badly? Ashameful thing it is to be a flirt. "

"I am not a flirt, madame. And I did not treat your grandson badly. No, indeed!"

"Yes, indeed! He told me so himself. "

"He told you so?"

"He told me so. Surely he did. "

"That I treated him badly?"

"Pray then what else? You let a young man love you--you let him tell youso--you tell him 'yes, I love you' and then when he says marry me, yousay, 'no. ' Such ways I call bad, very bad! Not worthy of my Joris areyou, and so then, I am glad you said 'no. '"

"I do not understand you. "

"Neither did you understand my Joris--a great mistake he made--and hedid not understand you; and I do not understand such ways of the girlsof this day. They are shameless, and I am ashamed for you. "

"Madame, you are very rude. "

"And very false are you. "

"I am not false. "

"My Joris told me so. Truth itself is Joris. He would not lie. He wouldnot deceive. "

"If your grandson told you I had deceived him, and refused to marryhim, --let it be so. I have no wish to contradict your grandson. "

"That you cannot do. I am ashamed--"

"Madame, I wish you good morning;" and with these words Cornelia leftthe store. Her cheeks were burning; the old lady's angry voice was inher ears, she felt the eyes of every one in the store upon her, and shewas indignant and mortified at a meeting so inopportune. Her heart hadalso received a new stab; and she had not at the moment any philosophyto meet it. Joris had evidently told his grandmother exactly what theold lady affirmed. She had not a doubt of that, but why? Why had he liedabout her? Was there no other way out of his entanglement with her? Shewalked home in a hurry, and as soon as possible shut herself in her roomto consider this fresh wrong and injustice. 

She could arrive at only one conclusion--Annie's most unexpectedappearance had happened immediately after his proposal to herself. Hewas pressed for time, his grandparents would be especially likely toembarrass him concerning her claims, and of course the quickest andsurest way to prevent questioning on the matter, was to tell them thatshe had refused him. That fact would close their mouths in sympathy forhis disappointment, and there would be no further circumstances to clearup. It was the only explanation of madame's attitude that was possible, and she was compelled to accept it, much as it humiliated her. And thenafter it had been accepted and sorrowed over, there came back to herthose deeper assurances, those soul assertions, which she could noteither examine or define, but which she felt compelled to receive--Heloves me! I feel it! It is not his fault! I must not think wrong of him. 

There was still Madame Jacobus to hope for. She was so shrewd and sokindly, that Cornelia felt certain of her sympathy and wise advice. Butmonth after month passed away and madame's house remained empty andforlorn-looking. Now and then there came short fateful letters fromArenta, and Van Ariens--utterly miserable--visited them frequently thathe might be comforted with their assurances of his child's ability tomanage the very worst circumstances in which she could be placed. 

And so the long summer days passed and the winter approached again; butbefore that time Cornelia had at least attained to the wisest of all thevirtues--that calm, hushed contentment, which is only another name forhappiness--that contentment which accepts the fact that there is a chainof causes linked to effects by an invincible necessity; and thatwhatever is, could not have wisely been but so. And if this wasfatalism, it was at least a brighter thing than the languid pessimism, which would have led her life among quicksands, to end it in wreck. 

One day at the close of October she put down her needlework with alittle impatience. "I am tired of sewing, mother, " she said, "and I willwalk down to the Battery and get a breath of the sea. I shall not staylong. "

On her way to the Battery she was thinking of Hyde, and of theirfrequent walks together there; and for once she passed the house ofMadame Jacobus without a glance at its long-closed windows. It wasgrowing dark as she returned, and ere she quite reached it she was awareof a glow of fire light and candle light from the windows. She quickenedher steps, and saw a servant well known to her standing at the open doordirecting two men who were carrying in trunks and packages. Sheimmediately accosted him. 

"Has madame returned at last, Ameer?" she asked joyfully. 

"Madame has returned home, " he answered. "She is weary--she is notalone--she will not receive to-night. "

"Surely not. I did not think of such a thing. Tell her only that I amglad, and will call as soon as she can see me. "

The man's manner--usually so friendly--was shy and peculiar, andCornelia felt saddened and disappointed. "And yet why?" she askedherself. "Madame has but reached home--I did not wish to intrude uponher--Ameer need not have thought so--however I am glad she is backagain"--and she walked rapidly home to the thoughts which thisunexpected arrival induced. They were hopeful thoughts, leaning--howevershe directed them--towards her absent lover. She felt sure madame wouldsee clearly to the very bottom of what she could not understand. Shewent into her mother's presence full of renewed expectations, and mether smile with one of unusual brightness. 

"Madame Jacobus is at home, " said Mrs. Moran, before Cornelia couldspeak. "She sent for your father just after you left the house, and Isuppose that he is still there. "

"Is she sick?"

"I do not know. I fear so, for the visit is a long one. "

It continued so much longer that the two ladies took their tea alone, nor could they talk of any other subject than madame, and her mostunexpected call for Doctor Moran's services. " It was always the DutchDoctor Gansvoort she had before, " said Mrs. Moran; "and she was everready to scoff at all others, as pretenders. --I do wonder what keepsyour father so long?"

It was near ten o'clock when Doctor Moran returned, and his face wassombre and thoughtful--the face of a man who had been listening forhours to grave matters, and who had not been able to throw off theirphysical reflection. 

"Have you had tea, John?" asked Mrs. Moran. 

"No. Give me a good strong cup, Ava. I am tired with listening andfeeling. "

She poured it out quickly, and after he had taken the refreshing drink, Cornelia asked--

"Is madame very ill?"

"She is wonderfully well. It is her husband. "

"Captain Jacobus?"

"Who else? She has brought him home, and I doubt if she has donewisely. "

"What has happened, John? Surely you will tell us!"

"There is nothing to conceal. I have heard the whole story--a verypitiful story--but yet like enough to end well, Madame told me that theday after her sister-in-law's burial, James Lauder, a Scotchman who hadoften sailed with Captain Jacobus, came down to Charleston to see her. He had sought her in New York, and been directed by her lawyer toCharleston. He declared that having had occasion to go to Guy's Hospitalin London to visit a sick comrade, he saw there Captain Jacobus. Hewould not admit any doubt of his identity, but said the Captain hadforgotten his name, and everything in connection with his past life; andwas hanging about the premises by favour of the physicians, holdingtheir horses, and doing various little services for them. "

"Oh how well I can imagine madame's hurry and distress, " said Cornelia. 

"She hardly knew how to reach London quickly enough. She said thoughtwould have been too slow for her. But Lauder's tale proved to be true. Her first action was to take possession of the demented man, andsurround him with every comfort. He appeared quite indifferent to hercare, and she obtained no shadow of recognition from him. She thenbrought to his case all the medical skill money could procure, and inthe consultation which followed, the physicians decided to perform theoperation of trepanning. "

"But why? Had he been injured, John?"

"Very badly. The hospital books showed that he had been brought there bytwo sailors, who said he had been struck in a gale by a falling mast. The wound healed, but left him mentally a wreck. The physicians decidedthat the brain was suffering from pressure, and that trepanning wouldrelieve, if it did not cure. "

"Then why was it not done at first?"

"Whose interest was it to inquire? No money was left with the injuredman. The sailors who took him to the hospital gave false names, andaddress, and he received only such treatment as a pauper patient waslikely to receive. But he made friends, and was supported about theplace. Imagine now what a trial was before madame! It was a difficultmatter to perform the operation, for the patient could not be made tounderstand its necessity; and he was very hard to manage. Then pictureto yourselves, the terrible strain of nursing which followed; thoughmadame says it was soon brightened and lightened by her husband'srecognition of her. After that event all weariness was rest, andsuffering ease; and as soon as he was able to travel both weredetermined to return at once to their own home. He is yet however a sickman, and may never quite recover a slight paralysis of the lower limbs. "

"Does he remember how he was hurt?"

"He declares his men mutinied, because instead of returning to NewYork, he had taken on a cargo for the East India Company; and that theblow was given him either by his first, or second mate. He thinks theysailed his ship out of the Thames, for her papers were all made out, andshe was ready to drop down the river with the next tide. He vows he willget well and find his ship and the rascals that stole her; and I shouldnot wonder if he does. He has will enough for anything. Madame desiresto see you, Cornelia. Can you go there with me in the morning?"

"I shall be glad to go. Madame is like no one else. "

"She is not like herself at present. I think you may be a littledisappointed in her. She has but one thought, one care, one end and aimin life--her husband. "

The Doctor had judged correctly. Cornelia was disappointed from thefirst moment. She was taken to the dim uncanny drawing-room by Ameer, and left among its ill-omened gods, and odd treasure-trove for nearlyhalf an hour before madame came to her. The rudely graven faces, somarvellously instinct with life, made her miserable; she fancied athousand mockeries and scorns in them; and no thought of Hyde, orArenta, or of the happy hours spent in that ill-boding room, could charmaway its sinister influence. 

When madame at length came to her, she appeared like the very genius ofthe place. The experiences of the past year had left traces which noafter experience would be able to obliterate. She looked ten yearsolder. Her wonderful dark eyes, glowing with a soft tender fire aloneremained untouched by the withering hand of anxious love. They were asvital as ever they had been, and when Cornelia said so, she answered, "That is because my soul dwells in them, and my soul is always young. Ihave had a year, Cornelia, to crumble the body to dust; but my soul madelight of it for love's sake. Did your father tell you how much CaptainJacobus had suffered?"

"Yes, madame. "

But in spite of this assurance, madame went over the whole story indetail, and Cornelia could not help but remember that Mr. Van Ariens hadsaid "about her husband she will talk constantly, and to the wholetown. " For however far the conversation diverged for a moment, madamealways brought it sharply back to the one subject that interested her. Even Arenta's peculiarly dangerous position could not detain herthoughts and interest for many minutes. 

"I am sorry for Arenta, " she said; "no greater hell can there be, thanto live in constant fear. But she has the gift of a clever tongue, andevery one has not the like talent; and also if a woman with the decencyof her sex may be a scholar, Arenta has learning enough to compass thefools who might injure her. "

"Marat and Robespierre are both against her husband, and she may sharehis fate. "

"Marat and Robespierre!" she cried. "Both of the creatures have adevil. I wish them to go to the guillotine together, and I would burythem together with their faces downwards. Let them pass out of yourmemory. Poor Jacobus was in a worse case than Arenta. Till I be key-colddead, I shall never forget my first sight of him in that dreadful place--"and then she described again her overwhelming emotions when sheperceived he was alike apathetic to his pauper condition, and to herlove and presence. There never came a moment during the whole visit whenit was possible to speak of Hyde. Madame seemed to have quite forgottenher liking for the handsome youth; it had been swallowed up in heradoring affection for her restored husband. 

Cornelia would not force the memory upon her. Some day she mightremember; but for a little while madame had more than enough of freshmaterial for her conversation. Every one who had known Captain Jacobusor herself, called with congratulations for their happy return; and whenCornelia made a nearly daily visit with her father, madame had thesecalls to talk over with her. 

One morning, however, the long-looked-for topic was introduced. "I had avisit from Madame Van Heemskirk yesterday afternoon, " she said; "and thedear old Senator came with her to see Captain Jacobus. While theytalked, madame told me that you had refused that handsome young fellow, her grandson. What could you mean by such a stupidity, Miss Moran?"

Her voice had just that tone of indifference, mingled with sarcasticdisapproval, that hurt and offended Cornelia. She felt that it was notworth while to explain herself, for madame had evidently accepted theoffended grandmother's opinion; and the memory of the young Lord waslively enough to make her sympathize with his supposed wrong. 

"I never considered you to be a flirt, " she continued, "and I amastonished. If, now, it had been Arenta, I could have understood it. Itold Madame Van Heemskirk that I had not the least doubt Doctor Morandictated the refusal. "

"Oh, indeed, " answered Cornelia, with a good deal of spirit and someanger, "you shall not blame my father. He knew nothing whatever of LordHyde's offer, until I had been subjected to such insult and wrong asdrove me to the grave's mouth. Only the mercy of God, and my father'sskill, brought me back to life. "

"Yes, I think your father to be wonderfully skilful. He has done Jacobusa great deal of good, and he now gives him hope of a perfect recovery. Doctor Moran is a fine physician; Jacobus says so. "

Cornelia remained silent. If madame did not feel interest sufficient inher affairs to ask for the particulars of one so nearly fatal to her, she determined not to force the subject on her. Then Jacobus rang hisbell, and madame flew to his room to see whether his want had receivedproper attention. Cornelia sat still a few moments, her heart swelling, her eyes filling with the sense of that injustice, harder to bear thanany other form of wrong. She was going away, when madame returned toher, and something in her eyes went to the heart of the older woman. Sheturned her back, with a kind but peremptory word, and taking her hand, said--

"I have been thoughtless, Cornelia, selfish, I dare say; but I do notwish to be so. Tell me, my dear, what has happened. Did you quarrel withGeorge Hyde? And pray what was it about?"

"We never had one word of any kind, but words of affection. He wrote andasked me if he could come and see my father about our marriage, on acertain night. I answered his letter with all the love that was in myheart for him, and told him to come and see my father that very night. He never came. He never sent me the least explanation. He never wrote tome, or spoke to me again. "

"Oh, but this is a different story! His grandmother told me that yourefused him. "

"That is not the truth. Lady Annie Hyde came most unexpectedly that veryday, and I suppose the easiest way to stop all inquiries about MissMoran, was to say 'she refused me. '"

"And after Lady Annie's arrival, what happened?"

"I was absolutely deserted. That is the truth. I may as well admit it. Perhaps you think it impossible for a young man so good-natured tobehave in a manner so cruel and dishonourable; but I assure you it isthe truth. "

"My dear, I have lived to see it almost impossible to think worse ofpeople than they are; and if you can bear to hear more on this subject, I will tell it to you myself. "

"I can always bear the truth. If I have lost my heart, I have not lostmy head; nor will I surrender to useless grief the happiness which I canyet make for others, and for myself. "

"If what you have told me be so--and I believe it is--then I say LordGeorge Hyde is an intolerable scoundrel. "

"I would rather not hear him spoken of in that way. "

"I ask your pardon, but I must give myself a little Christian liberty ofrailing. The man is false clean through. He was evidently engaged toLady Annie when he first sought your love, and therefore as soon as shecame here, he deserted you. I will tell you plainly that I saw him lastsummer very frequently, and he was always with her--always listeningwith ears and heart to what she said--always watching her with all hissoul in his eyes--ever on the lookout to see that not a breath of windruffled her soft wraps, or blew too strongly on her little white face. "

"That was his way, madame. I have seen him devoting himself to you inthe same manner; yes, and to Madame Griffin, and Miss White, and a scoreof other ladies--old and young. You know how good-natured he was. Whendid you hear him say a wrong word of any one? even of Rem Van Ariens whowas often intolerably rude. "

"Very well! I would rather have a man 'intolerably rude' like my nephewRem, than one like Lord Hyde who speaks well of everybody. Upon my word, I think that is the worst kind of slander!"

"I think not. "

"It is; for it takes away the reputation of good men, by making all menalike. But this, that, or the other, I saw Lord Hyde in devotedattendance on Lady Annie. Give him up totally. He is in his kingdom whenhe has a pretty woman to make a fool of. As for marriage, these youngmen who have the world, or the better part of it, they marry whereCupidity, not Cupid leads them. Give him up entirely. "

"I have done so, " answered Cornelia. And then she felt a sudden anger atherself, so much so, that as she walked home, she kept assuring herheart with an almost passionate insistence, "I have not given him up! Iwill not give him up! I believe in him yet. "

Madame's advice might be wise, but there are counsels of perfection thatcannot be followed; because they are utterly at variance with thatintuitive knowledge, which the soul has of old; and which it will notsurrender; and whose wisdom it is interiorly sure of. And after thisconfidence Cornelia did not go so often to madame's. Something jarredbetween them. We know that a single drop taken from a glass of waterchanges the water level swift as thought, and the same law is certain inall human relations. Madame was not quite the same; something had beentaken away; the level of their friendship was changed; and when DoctorMoran could not but perceive this fact, he said--

"Go less frequently to madame's, Cornelia. You do not enjoy your visits;dissolve a friendship that begins to be incomplete. It is the bestplan. "

CHAPTER XII

A HEART THAT WAITS

Late summer on the Norfolk Broads! And where on earth can the lover ofboats find a more charming resort? How alluring are the mysteriousentrances to these Broads! where a boat seems to make an insane diveinto a hopeless cul de sac of a ditch, and then suddenly emerges on awide expanse of water, teeming with pike and bream and eels; and fringedwith a border of plashy ground, full of reeds and willows and floweringflags; and alive with water fowl. 

Now close to the Manor of Hyde, the country home of Earl Hyde inNorfolk, there was one of these delightful Broads--flat as a billiardtable, and hidden by the tall reeds which bordered it. But Annie Hydelying at the open window of her room in the Manor House could see itssilvery waters, and the black-sailed wherry floating on them, and theyoung man sitting at the prow fishing, and idling, among the lilies andlanguors of these hot summer days. Her hands were folded, her lipsmoved, she was asking of some intelligence among the angels, grace andfavour for one who was dearer to her than her own life or happiness. 

An aged man sat silently by her, a man of noble beauty, whose soul wasin every part of his body, expressive and impressive--a fiery particlenot always at its window, but when there, infecting and going throughobservers, whether they would or not. He was dressed altogether inblack, and had fine small hands, a thin austere face and clean sensitivelips which seemed to say, "He hath made us kings and priests"--a man ofcelestial race, valuing things at their eternal, not at their temporalworth. 

There had been silence for some time between them, and he did not appeardisposed to break it; but Annie longed for him to do so, because she hada mystical appetite for sacred things, and was never so happy and somuch at rest as when he was talking to her of them. For she loved God, and had been led to the love of God by a kind of thirst for God. 

"Dear father, " she said finally, "I have been thinking of the pastyears, in which you have taught me so much. "

"It is better to look forward, Annie, " he answered. "The traveller toEternity must not continually turn back to count his steps; for if Godbe leading him, no matter how dangerous or lonely the road, 'He willpluck thy feet out of the net. '"

"Even in the valley of death?"

"'BE NOT AFRAID! NOTHING OF THEE WILL DIE!"' Take these sweetcompassionate words of Jesus, as He wept by the dying bed of Joseph, Hisfather, into thy heart. Blessed are the homesick, Annie! for they shallget home. "

"All my life I have loved God, and His love has been over me. "

"Date not God's love from thy nativity; look far, far back of it--to theeverlasting love. "

"After death, I SHALL KNOW. "

"Death!" he repeated, "Death that deceitful word. What is it? A dream, that wakes us at the end of the night. This is the great saying that menforget--Death is Life!"

"Yet life ceases. "

"It does not, Annie. Death, is like the setting of the sun. The sunnever sets; life never ceases. Certain phenomena occur which deceive us, because human vision is so feeble--we think the sun sets, and it neverceases shining; we think our friends die, and they never cease living. "

As he spoke these words Mary Damer entered, and she laid her hand on hisshoulder and said, "My dear Doctor Roslyn, after death what then? we arenot all good--what then?"

He looked at her wistfully and answered, "I will give you one thought, Mary, to ponder--the blessedness of heaven, is it not an eternity olderthan the misery of hell? Let your soul fearlessly follow where this factleads it; for there is no limit to God's mercy. Do you think it is Hisway to worry a wandering sheep eternally? Jesus Christ thought better ofHis father. He told us that the Great Shepherd of souls followed suchsheep into the wilderness, and brought them home in His arms, or on Hisshoulder, and then called on the angels of heaven to rejoice becausethey were found. Find out what that parable means, Mary. He whose nameis 'Love' can teach you. "

Then he rose and went away, and Mary sat down in his place, and Anniegradually came back to the material plane of everyday life and duty. Indeed Mary brought this element in a very decided form with her; forshe had a letter in her hand from an old lover, and she was much excitedby its advent, and eager to discuss the particulars with Annie. 

"It is from Captain Seabright, who is now in Pondicherry, " sheexplained. "He loves me, Annie. He loved me long ago, and went to Indiato make money; now he says he has enough and to spare; and he asks me ifI have forgotten. "

"There is Mr. Van Ariens to consider. You have promised to marry him, Mary. It is not hard to find the right way on this road, I think. "

"Of course. I would scorn to do a dishonourable or unhandsome thing. Butis it not very strange Willie Seabright should write to me at this time?How contradictory life is! I had also a letter from Mr. Van Ariens bythe same mail, and I shall answer them both this evening. " Then shelaughed a little, and added, "I must take care and not make the mistakean American girl made, under much the same circumstances. "

"What was it?" inquired Annie languidly. 

"She misdirected her letters and thus sent 'No' to the man whom of allothers, she wished to marry. "

As Mary spoke a soft brightness seemed to pervade Annie's brain cells, and she could hardly restrain the exclamation of sudden enlightenmentthat rose to her lips. She raised herself slightly, and in so doing, hereyes fell upon the tall figure of Hyde standing clearly out in theintense, white sunshine of the Broads; and perhaps her soul may havewhispered to his soul, for he turned his face to the house, and liftedthe little red fishing cap from his head. The action stimulated to theutmost Annie's intuitive powers. 

"Mary, " she said, "what a strange incident! Did you know the girl?"

"I saw her once in Philadelphia. Mr. Van Ariens told me about her. Sheis the friend of his sister the Marquise de Tounnerre. "

"How did Mr. Van Ariens know of such an event?"

"I suppose the Marquise told him of it. "

"I am interested. Is she pretty? Who, and what is her father? Did shelose her lover through the mistake?"

"You are more interested in this American girl, than in me. I think youmight ask a little concerning my love affair with Captain Seabright. "

"I always ask you about Mr. Van Ariens. A girl cannot have two lovers, "

"But if one is gone away?"

"Then he has gone away; and that is the end of him. He must not troublethe one who has come to stay, eh, Mary?"

"You are right, Annie. But one's first lover has always a charm abovereason; and Willie Seabright was once very dear to me. "

"I am sorry for that unfortunate American girl. "

"So am I. She is a great beauty. Her name is Cornelia Moran; and herfather is a famous physician in New York. "

"And this beauty had two lovers?"

"Yes; an Englishman of noble birth; and an American. They both lovedher, and she loved the Englishman. They must have both asked her hand onthe same day, and she must have answered both letters in the same hour;and the letter she intended for the man she loved, went to the man shedid not love. Presumably, the man she loved got the refusal she intendedfor the other, for he never sought her society again; and Mr. Van Arienstold me she nearly died in consequence. I know not as to this part ofthe story; when I saw her in Philadelphia, she had no more of fragilitythan gave delicacy to all her charms. "

"And what became of the two lovers, Mary?"

"The Englishman went back to England; and the American found anothergirl more kind to him. "

"I wonder what made Mr. Van Ariens tell you this story?"

"He talked much of his sister, and this young lady was her chief friendand confidante. "

"When did it happen?"

"A few days after his sister's marriage. "

"Then the Marquise could not know of it; and so she could not have toldher brother. However in the world could he have found out the mistake?Do you think the girl herself found it out?"

"That is inconceivable, " answered Mary. "She would have written to herlover and explained the affair. "

"Certainly. It is a very singular incident. I want to think it over--how--did--Mr. Van Ariens--find--it--out, I wonder!"

"Perhaps the rejected lover confided in him. "

"But why did not the rejected lover send the letter he received--andwhich he must have known he had no right to retain--to Miss Moran, or tothe Englishman for whom it was intended? A man who could keep a letterlike that, must have some envious sneaking devil in his body. A bad man, Mary, a bad man--the air must be unclean in any room he comes into. "

"Why Annie! How angry you are. Let us drop the subject. I really do wantto tell you something about Willie Seabright. "

"What did Mr. Van Ariens say about the matter? What did he think? Whydid he tell you?"

"We were talking of the Marquise. The story came up quite naturally. Ithink Mr. Van Ariens felt very sorry for Miss Moran. Of course he did. Will you listen to Captain Seabright's letter? I had no idea it couldaffect me so much. "

"But you loved him once?"

"Very dearly. "

"Well then, Mary, I think no one has a double in love or friendship. Ifthe loved one dies, or goes away, his place remains empty forever. Wehave lost feelings that he, and he only, could call up. "

At this point in the conversation Hyde entered, brown and wind-blown, the scent of the sedgy water and the flowery woods about him. 

"Your servant, ladies, " he said gayly, "I have bream enough for a dozenfamilies, Mary; and I have sent a string to the rectory. "

"Poor little fish!" answered Annie. "They could not cry out, or pleadwith you, or beg for their lives, and because they were dumb and openednot their mouths, they were wounded and strangled to death. "

"Don't say such things, Annie. How can I enjoy my sport if you do?"

"I don't think you ought to enjoy sport which is murder. You have yourwherry to sail, is not that sport enough? I have heard you say nothingthat floats on fresh water, can beat a Norfolk wherry. "

"I vow it is the truth. With her fine lines and strong sails she can liecloser to the wind than any other craft. She is safe, and fast, andhandy to manage. Three feet of water will do her, though she be sixtytons burden; and I will sail her where nothing but a row boat can followme. "

"Is not that sport enough?"

"I must have something to get. I would have brought you armfuls offlowers, but you do not like me to cut them. "

"I like my flowers alive, George. You must be dull indeed if you make nodifference between the scent of growing flowers, and cut ones. TomorrowMary is going to Ranforth, you must go with her, and you may bring mesome peaches from the Hall, if you please to do so. "

Then Hyde and Mary had a game of battledore, and she watched themtossing the gayly painted corks, until amid their light laughter andmerry talk she fell asleep. And when she awakened it was sunset, andthere was no one in her room but her maid. She had slept long, but inspite of its refreshment, she had a sense of something uneasy. Then sherecalled the story Mary Damer had told her, and because she comprehendedthe truth, she was instantly at rest. The whole secret was clear asdaylight to her. She knew now every turn of an event so full of sorrow. She was positive Rem Van Ariens was himself the thief of her cousin'slove and happiness, and the bringer of grief--almost of death--toCornelia. All the facts she did not have, but facts are little;intuition is everything. She said to herself, "I shall not be long here, and before I go away, I must put right love's wrong. "

She considered then what she ought to do, and gradually the plan thatpleased her best, grew distinctly just, and even-handed in her mind. Shewould write to Cornelia. Her word would be indisputable. Then she woulddismiss the subject from her conversations with Mary, until Cornelia'sanswer arrived; nor until that time would she say a word of hersuspicions to Hyde. In pursuance of these resolutions the followingletter to Cornelia left Hyde Manor for New York the next mail:

To Miss CORNELIA MORAN:

Because you are very dear to one of my dear kindred, and because I feelthat you are worthy of his great love, I also love you. Will you trustme now? There has been a sad mistake. I believe I can put it right. Youmust recollect the day on which George Hyde wrote asking you to fix anhour when he could call on Doctor Moran about your marriage. Did anyother lover ask you on that day to marry him? Was that other lover Mr. Van Ariens? Did you write to both about the same time? If so, youmisdirected your letters; and the one intended for Lord Hyde went to Mr. Van Ariens; and the one intended for Mr. Van Ariens, went to Lord Hyde. Now you will understand many things. I found out this mistake throughthe young lady Mr. Van Ariens is intending to marry. Can you send to me, for Lord Hyde, a copy of the letter you intended for him. When I receiveit, you may content your heart. I may never see you again, but I wouldlike you to remember me by this act of loving kindness; and I wish youall the joy in your love, that I could wish myself. The shadows willsoon flee away, and when your wedding bells ring, I shall know; andrejoice with you, and with my dear cousin. Delay not to answer this, whyshould you delay your happiness? I send you as love gifts my thoughts, desires, prayers, all that is best in me, al! that I give to one high inmy esteem, and whom I wish to place high in my affection, This to yourhand and heart, with all sincerity, ANNIE HYDE. 

When she had signed her name she was full of content, her face wastransfigured with the joy she foresaw for others, and she thought not ofher own gain, though it was great--even the riches of that divine self-culture, that comes only through self-sacrifice. She calculated herletter would reach Cornelia about the end of September, and she thoughthow pleasantly the hope it brought, would brighten her life. And withoutpermitting Hyde to suspect any change in his love affair, she very oftenled the conversation to Cornelia, and to the circumstances of her life. Hyde was always willing to talk on this subject, and thus she learned somuch about Arenta, and Madame Jacobus, and Rem Van Ariens, that thepeople became her familiars. Arenta particularly interested her, and shespoke and thought continually of the gay little Dutch girl among thehuman tigers of Paris. And the thought of her ended ever in a silentprayer for her safety. "I must ask some strong angel to go and helpher, " she said to Hyde, "a city full of blood, must be a city full ofevil spirits, and she will need the wings of angels round her--like apavilion--so when she comes into my mind I say 'angels of deliverance goto her. ' And I think she must be in a great strait now, or I should notfeel so constrained to pray for her. "

"And you believe such prayer avails for deliverance, Annie?"

"I am sure it avails. When we invoke earnestly and sincerely the help ofany higher and stronger intelligence than ourselves, the angels are withus. They come when the heart calls them; for they are appointed to beministers unto those who shall inherit eternal life. " And Hyde listenedsilently, yet the words fell into his deepest consciousness, and aftermany years brought him strength and consolation when he needed it. Thusit is, that a good woman is a priestess standing by the altar of theheart, thus it is, that the very noblest education any man ever gets iswhat some woman--mother, wife, sister, friend--gives him. 

Certainly the letter sent to Cornelia sped on its way all the morerapidly and joyfully for the good wishes and unselfish prayersaccompanying it. The very ship might have known it was the bearer ofgood tidings; for if there had been one of the mighty angels whosecharge is on the great deep at the helm of the Good Intent she could nothave gone more swiftly and surely to her haven. One morning, nearly aweek in advance of Annie's calculation, the wonderful letter was putinto Cornelia's hand. She was passing through the hall on her way to herroom, when Balthazar brought in the mail, and she took the little whitemessenger without any feeling but one of curiosity concerning it. Thehandwriting was strange, it was an English letter, what could it mean?

Let any one who has loved and been parted from the beloved by somemisunderstanding, try to realize what it meant to Cornelia. She read itthrough in an indescribable hurry and emotion, and then in the mostnatural and womanly way, began to cry. No one could have loved her theless for that sincere overflow of emotions she could not separate ordefine, and which indeed she never tried to understand. It was only onewonderful thought she could entertain--IT WAS NOT THE FAULT OF JORIS. This was the assurance that turned her joyful tears into gladder smiles, and that made her step light as a bird on the wing, as she ran down thestairs to find her mother; for her happiness was not perfect till sheshared it with the heart that had borne her sorrow, and carried hergrief through many weary months, with her. 

Oh, how glad were these two women! They were almost too glad to speak. Sitting still was impossible to Cornelia, but as she stepped swiftly to-and-fro across the parlour floor, she stopped frequently at her mother'schair and kissed her. She kissed Annie's letter just as frequently. Itwas such a gracious, noble letter. It was such a delight to know thatfriendship so unselfish was waiting for her. It was altogether such amarvellous thing that had come to her, that she could not behave as asuperior woman ought to have done. But then she was not a superiorwoman, she was only lovable and loving, and therefore restless andinconsequent. 

In the first hours of her recovered gladness she did not even rememberRem's great fault, nor yet her own carelessness. These things were onlyaccidentals, not worthy to be taken into account while the great sweethope that had come to her, flooded like a springtide every nook andcorner of her heart. In such a mood how easy it was to answer Annie'sletter. She recollected every word she had written to Hyde that fatefulday, and she wrote them again with a tenfold joy. She told Annie everyparticular, and she forgot to say a word of reproach concerning thedishonourable retention of her letter by Rem. " It is altogether my ownfault, " she confessed. 

Even when this letter was on its way to Annie she was under suchexcitement that her whole body appeared to think and to feel; herbeautiful hair had an unusual freedom, as if some happy wind blew itinto exquisite unrestraint; her eyes shone like stars; her garmentsfluttered; her steps were like dancing; and every now and then, a bar ortwo of love music warbled in her throat. And oh with what joy the motherwatched the return of happiness to her dear child! With her own milk shehad fed her. In her own bosom she had carried and tended her. Night andday for nearly twenty years, like a bird, she had feverishly, prayfully, tenderly hovered over her; so there was great joy in the Doctor's homeand though he would say little, his heart grew lighter in his wife's anddaughter's cheerfulness; for the women in any house make the moral andmental atmosphere of that house just as decidedly, as the sunshine orrain affect the natural atmosphere outside of it. 

Now it is very noticeable that when unusual events begin to happen inany life, there is a succession of such events, and not unfrequentlythey arrive in similar ways. At any rate about ten days after thereceipt of Annie's letter, Cornelia was almost equally amazed by thereceipt of another letter. It came one day about noon, and a slave ofVan Ariens brought it--a piece of paper twisted carelessly butcontaining these few pregnant words:

Cornelia, dear, come to me. Bring me something to wear. I have justarrived, saved by the skin of my teeth, and I have not a decent garmentof any kind to put on. ARENTA. 

A thunderbolt from a clear sky could hardly have caused such surprise, but Cornelia did not wait to talk about the wonder. She loaded a maidwith clothing of every description, and ran across the street to herfriend. Arerita saw her coming, and met her with a cry of joy, and asVan Ariens was sick and trembling with the sight of his daughter, andthe tale of her sufferings, Cornelia persuaded him to go to sleep, andleave Arenta to her care. Poor Arenta, she was ill with the privationsshe had suffered, she was half-starved, and nearly without clothing, butshe did not complain much until she had been fed, and bathed, and"dressed" as she said "like a New York woman ought to be. "

"You know what trunks and trunks full of beautiful things I took awaywith me, Cornelia, " she complained; "Well I have not a rag left. I havenothing left at all. "

"Your husband, Arenta?"

"He was guillotined. "

"Oh, my dear Arenta!"

"Guillotined. I told him to be quiet. I begged him to go over to Marat, but no! his nobility obliged him to stand by his order and his king. Sofor them, he died. Poor Athanase! He expected me to follow him, but Icould not make up my mind to the knife. Oh how terrible it was!" Thenshe began to sob bitterly, and Cornelia let her talk of her sufferingsuntil she fell into a sleep--a sleep easy to see, still haunted by thefuries and terrors through which she had passed. 

For a week Cornelia remained with her friend, and Madame Jacobus joinedthem as often as possible, and gradually the half-distraught womanrecovered something of her natural spirits and resolution. In this weekshe talked out all her frightful experiences in the great prison of LaForce, and was completely overwhelmed at their remembrance. But thetrouble which has been removed, soon grows far off; and Arenta quicklytook her place in her home, and resumed her old life. Of course withmany differences. She could not be the same Arenta, she had outlivedmany of her illusions. She took but little interest for a while in thelife around her; her thoughts and conversation were still in Paris, andthis was evident from the fact, that during the whole week of Cornelia'sstay with her, she never once named Cornelia's love, or life, orprospects. Rem she did talk about, but chiefly because he was going tomarry an English girl, an intention she angrily deplored. 

"I am sure, " she said, "Rem might have learned a lesson from my sadfortune. What does he want to marry a foreigner for? He ought to haveprevented me from doing so, instead of following my foolish example. "

"No one could have prevented you, Arenta. You would not listen even toyour father. "

"Oh indeed, it was my fate. We must all submit to fate. Why did yourefuse Rem?"

"He was not my fate, Arenta. "

"Well then, neither is George Hyde your fate. Aunt Jacobus has told mesome things about him. She says he is to marry his cousin. You ought tomarry Rem. "

As she said these words Van Ariens, accompanied by Joris Van Heemskirkentered the room, and Cornelia was glad to escape. She knew that Arentawould again relate all her experiences, and she disliked to mingle themwith her renewed dreams of love and her lover. 

"She will talk and talk, " said Cornelia to her mother, "and then therewill be tea and chocolate and more talk, and I have heard all I wish tohear about that dreadful city, and the demons who walk in blood. "

"Arenta has made a great sensation, Cornelia, " answered Mrs. Moran. "Shehas received half the town. Gertrude Kippon stole quietly home and hashardly been seen, or heard tell of. "

"But mother, Arenta has far more genius than Gertrude. She has made ofher misfortunes a great drama, and wherever you go, it is of theMarquise de Tounnerre people are talking. Senator Van Heemskirk came inwith her father as I left. "

"I hope he treated you more civilly than madame did. "

"He was delightful. I courtesied to him, and he lifted my hand andkissed it, and said, 'I grew lovelier every day, ' and I kissed hischeek and said, 'I wished always to be lovely in his sight. ' Then I camehome, because I would not, just yet, speak of George to him. "

"Arenta would hardly have given you any opportunity. I wonder at whathour she will release Joris Van Heemskirk!"

"It will be later than it ought to be. "

Indeed it was so late that Madame Van Heemskirk had locked up her housefor the night, and was troubled at her husband's delay--even a littlecross:

"An old man like you, Joris, " she said in a tone of vexation--" sittingtill nine o'clock with the last runaway from Paris; a cold you havealready, and all for a girl that threw her senses behind her, to marry aFrenchman. "

"Much she has suffered, Lysbet. "

"Much she ought to suffer. And I believe not in Arenta Van Ariens'suffering. In some way, by hook or crook, by word or deed, she would outof any trouble work her way. "

"I will sit a little by the fire, Lysbet. Sit down by me. My mind isfull of her story. "

"That is it. And sleep you will not, and tomorrow sick you will be; andanxious and tired I shall be; and who for? The Marquise de Tounnerre!Well then, Joris, in thy old age it is late for thee to bow down to theMarquise de Tounnerre!"

"To God Almighty only I bow down, Lysbet, and as for titles what care ofthem has Jons Van Heemskirk? Think you, when God calls me He will say'Councillor' or 'Senator'? No, He will say 'Jons Van Heemskirk!' and Ishall answer to that name. But you know well, Lysbet, this bloody trialof liberty in Paris touches all the world beside. "

"Forgive me, Joris! A shame it is to be cross with thee, nor am I crosseven with that poor Arenta. A child, a very child she is. "

"But bitter fears and suffering she has come through. Her husband wasguillotined last May, and from her home she was taken--no time to writeto a friend--no time to save anything she had, except a string ofpearls, which round her waist for many weeks, she had worn. From prisonto prison she was sent, until at last she was ordered before theRevolutionary Tribunal. From that tribunal to the guillotine is only astep, and she would surely have taken it but for--"

"Minister Morris?"

"No. Twenty miles outside the city, Minister Morris now lives; and notime was there to send him word of her strait. Hungry and sick upon thefloor of her prison she was sitting, when her name was called, for beadafter bead of her pearl necklace had gone to her jailor, only for alittle black bread and a cup of milk twice a day; and this morning fortwenty-four hours she had been without food or milk. "

[Illustration: "ARENTA BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL"]

"The poor little one! What did she do?"

"This is what she did, and blame her I will not. When in that terribleiron armchair before those bloody judges, she says she forgot then to beafraid. She looked at Fouquier-Tinville the public prosecutor, and atthe fifteen jurymen, and flinched not. She had no dress to help herbeauty, but she declares she never felt more beautiful, and well I canbelieve it. They asked her name, and my Lysbet, think of this child'sanswer! 'I am called Arenta JEFFERSON de Tounnerre, ' she said; and atthe name of 'Jefferson' there were exclamations, and one of the jurymenrose to his feet and asked excitedly, 'What is it you mean? Jefferson!The great Jefferson! The great Thomas Jefferson! The great American wholoves France and Liberty?' 'It is the same, ' she answered, and then shesat silent, asking no favour, so wise was she, and Fouquier-Tinvillelooked at the President and said--'among my friends I count this greatAmerican!' and a juryman added, 'when I was very poor and hungry he fedand helped me, ' and he bowed to Arenta as he spoke. And after thatFouquier-Tinville asked who would certify to her claim, and she answeredboldly, 'Minister Morris. ' When questioned further she answered, 'Iadore Liberty, I believe in France, I married a Frenchman, for ThomasJefferson told me I was coming to a great nation and might trust bothits government and its generosity. ' They asked her then if she had beenused kindly in prison, and she told them her jailor had been to her veryunkind, and that he had taken from her the pearl necklace which was herwedding gift, and if you can believe Arenta, they were all extremelypolite to her, and gave her at once the papers which permitted her toleave France. The next day a little money she got from Minister Morris, but a very hard passage she had home. And listen now, her jailor wasguillotined before she left, and she declares it was the necklace--veryunfortunate beads they were, and Madame Jacobus said when she heard oftheir fate, 'let them go! With blood and death they came, it is fit theyshould go as they came!' Arenta thinks as soon as Fouquier-Tinvilleheard of them, he doomed the man, for she saw in his eyes that he meantto have them for himself. Well, then, she is also sure that they willtake Fouquier-Tinville to the guillotine. "

"After all, it was a lie she told, Joris. "

"That is so, but I think her life was worth a few words. And ThomasJefferson says she was ten thousand times welcome to the protection hisname gave her. I thank my God I have never had such temptation. I willsay one thing though, Lysbet, that if coming home some night, a thiefshould say to me 'your money I must have' and if in my pocket I had somefalse money, as well as true money, the false money I would give thethief and think no shame to do it. Overly righteous we must not be, Lysbet. "

"I am astonished also. I thought Arenta would cry out and that only. "

"What a man or a woman will do and suffer, and how they will do andsuffer, no one knows till comes some great occasion. When the water isice, who could believe that it would boil, unless they had seen icebecome boiling water? All the human heart wants, is the chance. "

"As men and women have in Paris to live, I wonder me, that they can wishto live at all! Welcome to them must be death. "

"So wrong are you, Lysbet. Trouble and hardship make us love life. Azest they give to it. It is when we have too much money, too much goodfood and wine, too much pleasure of all kinds, that we grow melancholyand sad, and say all is vanity and vexation. You may see that it isalways so, if you look in the Holy Scriptures. It was not from the Jewsin exile and captivity, but from the Jews of Solomon's glory came theonly dissatisfied, hopeless words in the Bible. Yes, indeed! it is thesouls that have too much, who cry out vanity, vanity, all is vanity! Formyself, I like not the petty prudencies of Solomon. There is betterreading in Isaiah, and in the Psalms, and in the blessed Gospels. "

"To-morrow, Joris, I will go and see Arenta. She is fair, and she knowsit; witty, and she knows it; of good courage, and she knows it; thefashion, and she knows it; and when she speaks, she speaks oracles thatone must believe, even though one does not understand them. To AureliaVan Zandt she said, my heart will ache forever for my beloved Athanase, and Aurelia says, that her old lover Willie Nicholls is at her feetsitting all the day long--yet for all these things, she is a brave womanand I will go and see her. "

"Willie Nicholls is a good young man, and he is rich also; but of him Isaw nothing at all. Cornelia Moran was there and no flower of Paradiseis so sweet, so fair!"

"A very proud girl! I am glad she said 'no' to my Joris. "

"Come, my Lysbet, we will now pray and sleep. There is so much NOT tosay. "

CHAPTER XIII

THE NEW DAYS COME

One afternoon in the late autumn Annie was sitting watching Hyde playingwith his dog, a big mastiff of noble birth and character. The creaturesat erect with his head leaning against Hyde, and Hyde's arm was thrownaround his neck as he talked to him of their adventures on the Broadthat day. Annie's small face, though delicate and fragile looking wasfull of peace, and her eyes, soft, deep and heavenly, held thoughts thatlinked her with heaven. 

Outside there was in the air that November feeling which chills like thepassing breath of death, the deserted garden looked sad and closed-in, and everywhere there was a sense of the languishing end of the year, ofthe fading and dropping of all living things. But in the house Annie andHyde and the dog sat within the circle of warmth and light made by theblazing ash logs, and in that circle there was at least an atmosphere ofsweet content. Suddenly George looked up and his eyes caught those ofAnnie watching him. "What have you been reading, Annie?" he asked, as hestooped forward and took a thin volume from her lap. "Why!" he cried, "'tis Paul and Virginia. Do you indeed read love stories?"

"Yes. The mystery of a love affair pleases every one; and I think weshall not tire of love stories till we tire of the mystery of spring, orof primroses and daffodils. Every one I know takes their tale of love tobe quite a new tale. "

"Love has been cruel to me. It has made a cloud on my life that willhelp to cover me in my grave. "

"You still love Cornelia?"

"I cannot cure myself of a passion so hopeless. However, as I see no endto my unhappiness, I try to submit to what I cannot avoid. What is theuse of longing for that which I have no hope to get?"

"My uncle grows anxious for you to marry. He would be glad to see thesuccession of Hyde assured. "

"Oh, indeed, I have no mind to take a wife. I hear every day that someof my acquaintance have married, I hear of none that have done worse. "

"You believe nothing of what you say. My uncle was much pleased withSarah Capel. What did you think of the beauty?"

"Cornelia has made all other women so indifferent to me, that if Icannot marry her, my father may dispose of me as he chooses. "

"Cannot you forget Cornelia?"

"It is impossible. Every day I resolve to think of her no more, and thenI continue thinking; and every day I am more and more in love with her. Her very name moves me beyond words. "

"There is no name, George, however sweet and dear, however lovinglyspoken, whose echo does not at last grow faint. "

"Cornelia will echo in my heart as long as my heart beats. "

Then they were silent, and Hyde drew his dog closer and watched theblaze among some lighter branches, which a servant had just brought in. At his entrance he had also given Annie a letter, which she was eagerlyreading. Hyde had no speculation about it; and even when he found Annieregarding him with her whole soul in her face, he failed to understand, as he always had done, the noble love which had been so long and sofaithfully his--a love holding itself above endearments; self-repressed, self-sacrificing, kept down in the inmost heart-chamber a dignifiedprisoner behind very real bars. Yet he was conscious that the letter wasof more than usual interest, and when the servant had closed the doorbehind him, he asked, "Whom is your letter from, Annie? It seems toplease you very much. "

She leaned forward to him with the paper in her little trembling hand, and said, "It is from Cornelia. "

"My God!" he ejaculated; and the words were fraught with such feeling, as could have found no other vehicle of expression. 

"She has sent you, dear George, a copy of the letter you ought to havereceived more than two years ago. Read it. "

His eyes ran rapidly over the sweet words, his face flamed, his handstrembled, he cried out impetuously--

"But what does it mean? Am I quite in my senses? How has this letterbeen delayed? Why do I get only a copy ?"

"Because Mr. Van Ariens has the original. "

"It is all incredible. What do you mean, Annie? Do not keep me in suchtorturing suspense. "

"It means that Mr. Van Ariens asked Cornelia to marry him on the sameday that you wrote to her about your marriage. She answered both lettersin the same hour, and misdirected them. "

"GOD'S DEATH! How can I punish so mean a scoundrel? I will have myletter from him, if I follow him round the world for it. "

"You have your letter now. I asked Cornelia to write it again for you;and you see she has done it gladly. "

"Angel of goodness! But I will have my first letter. "

"It has been in that man's keeping for more than two years. I would nottouch it. 'Twould infect a gentleman, and make of him a rascal just asbase. "

"He shall write me then an apology in his own blood. I will make him doit, at the point of my sword. "

"If I were you, I would scorn to wet my sword in blood so base. "

"Remember, Annie, what this darling girl suffered. For his treachery shenearly died. I speak not of my own wrong--it is as nothing to hers. "

"However, she might have been more careful. "

"Annie, she was in the happy hurry of love. Your calm soul knows notwhat a confusing thing that is--she made a mistake, and that sneakingvillain turned her mistake into a crime. By a God's mercy, it is foundout--but how? Annie! Annie, how much I owe you! What can I say? What canI do?"

"Be reasonable. Mary Damer really found it out. His guilty restlessconscience forced him to tell her the story, though to be sure he putthe wrong on people he did not name. But I knew so much of the mysteryof your love sorrow, as to put the two stories together, and find themfit. Then I wrote to Cornelia. "

"How long ago?"

"About two months. "

"Why then did you not give me hope ere this?"

"I would not give you hope, till hope was certain. Two years is a longtime in a girl's life. It was a possible thing for Cornelia to haveforgotten--to have changed. "

"Impossible! Quite impossible! She could not forget. She could notchange. Why did you not tell me? I should have known her heart by mineown. "

"I wished to be sure, " repeated Annie, a little sadly. 

"Forgive me, dear Annie. But this news throws me into an unspeakablecondition. You see that I must leave for America at once. "

"No. I do not see that, George. "

"But if you consider--"

"I have been considering for two months. Let me decide for you now, foryou are not able to do so wisely. Write at once to Cornelia, that isyour duty as well as your pleasure. But before you go to her, there arethings indispensable to be done. Will you ask Doctor Moran for hischild, and not be able to show him that you can care for her as shedeserves to be cared for? Lawyers will not be hurried, there will beconsultations, and engrossings, and signings, and love--in your case--will have to wait upon law. "

"'Tis hard for love, and harder perhaps for anger to wait. For I am in apassion of wrath at Van Ariens. I long to be near him. Oh what sufferinghis envy and hatred have caused others!"

"And himself also. Be sure of that, or he had not tried to find someease in a kind of confession. Doctor Roslyn will tell you that it is aneternal law, that wherever sin is, sorrow will answer it. "

"The man is hateful to me. "

"He has done a thing that makes him hateful; but perhaps for all that, he has been so miserable about it, as to have the pity of theUncondemning One. I hear your father coming. I am sure you will have hissympathy in all things. "

She left the room as the Earl entered it. He was in unusually highspirits. Some political news had delighted him, and without noticing hisson's excitement he said--

"The Commons have taken things in their own hands, George. I said theywould. They listen to the King and the Lords very respectfully, and thenobey themselves. Most of the men in the Lower House are unfit to enterit. "

"Well, sir, the Lords as a rule send them there--you have sent three ofthem yourself--and unfit men in public places, suppose prior unfitnessin those who have the places to dispose of. But the government is notinteresting. I have something else, father, to think about. "

"Indeed, I think the government is extremely interesting. It is verylike three horses arranged in tandem fashion--first, you know, the King, a little out of the reach of the whip; then the Lords follow the King, and the Commons are in the shafts, a more ignoble position, but yet--aswe see to-day, possessing a special power of upsetting the coach. "

"Father, I have very important news from America. Will you listen toit?"

"Yes, if you will tell it to me straight, and not blunder about yourmeaning. " "Sir, I have just discovered that a letter sent to me morethan two years ago, has been knowingly and purposely detained from me. "

"By whom?"

"A man into whose hands it fell by misdirection. "

"Did the letter contain means of identifying it, as belonging to you?"

"Ample means. "

"Then the man is outside your recognition. You might as well go to theBridewell, and seek a second among its riff-raff of scoundrels. Tell meshortly whom it concerns. "

"Miss Moran. "

"Oh indeed! Are we to have that subject opened again?"

His face darkened, and George, with an impetuosity that permitted nointerruption, told the whole story. As he proceeded the Earl becameinterested, then sympathetic. He looked with moist eyes at the youth sodear to him, and saw that his heart was filled with the energy andtenderness of his love. His handsome face, his piercingly bright eyes, his courteous, but obstinately masterful manner, his almost boyishpassion of anger and impatience, his tall, serious figure, erect, as ifready for opposition; even that sentiment of deadly steel, of beingimpatient to toss his sheath from his sword, pleased very much the elderman; and won both his respect and his admiration. He felt that his sonhad rights all his own, and that he must cheerfully and generously allowthem. 

"George, " he answered, "you have won my approval. You have shown me thatyou can suffer and be faithful, and the girl able to inspire such anaffection, must be worthy of it. What do you wish to do?"

"I am going to America by the next packet. "

"Sit down, then we can talk without feeling that every word is a lastword, and full of hurry and therefore of unreason. You desire to seeMiss Moran without delay, that is very natural. "

"Yes, sir. I am impatient also to get my letter. "

"I think that of no importance. "

"What would you have done in my case, and at my age, father?"

"Something extremely foolish. I should have killed the man, or beenkilled by him. I hope that you have more sense. Society does not nowcompel you to answer insult with murder. The noble not caring of thespirit, is beyond the mere passion of the animal. What does Annie say?"

"Annie is an angel. I walk far below her--and I hate the man who has sowronged--Cornelia. I think, sir, you must also hate him. "

"I hate nobody. God send, that I may be treated the same. George, youhave flashed your sword only in a noble quarrel, will you now stain itwith the blood of a man below your anger or consideration? You have hadyour follies, and I have smiled at them; knowing well, that a man whohas no follies in his youth, will have in his maturity no power. But nowyou have come of age, not only in years but in suffering cheerfullyendured and well outlived; so I may talk to you as a man, and notcommand you as a father. "

"What do you wish me to do, sir?"

"I advise you to write to Miss Moran at once. Tell her you are moreanxious now to redeem your promise, than ever you were before. Say toher that I already look upon her as a dear daughter, and am takingimmediate steps to settle upon you the American Manor, and also such NewYork property as will provide for the maintenance of your family in thestate becoming your order and your expectations. Tell her that mylawyers will go to this business to-morrow, and that as soon as thedeeds are in your hand, you will come and ask for the interview withDoctor Moran, so long and cruelly delayed. "

"My dear father! How wise and kind you are!"

"It is my desire to be so, George. You cannot, after this unfortunatedelay, go to Doctor Moran without the proofs of your ability to takecare of his daughter's future. "

"How soon can this business be accomplished?"

"In about three weeks, I should think. But wait your full time, and donot go without the credentials of your position. This three or fourweeks is necessary to bring to perfection the waiting of two years. "

"I will take your advice, sir. I thank you for your generosity. "

"All that I have is yours, George. And you can write to this dear girlevery day in the interim. Go now and tell her what I say. I had otherdreams for you as you know--they are over now--I have awakened. "

"Dear Annie!" ejaculated George. 

"Dear Annie!" replied the Earl with a sigh. "She is one of the daughtersof God, I am not worthy to call her mine; but I have sat at her feet, and learned how to love, and how to forgive, and how to beardisappointment. I will tell you, that when Colonel Saye insulted me lastyear, and I felt for my sword and would have sent him a letter on itspoint--Annie stepped before him. 'Forget, and go on, dear uncle, ' shesaid; and I did so with a proud, sore heart at first, but quitecheerfully in a week or two; and at the last Hunt dinner he came to mewith open hand, and we ate and drank together, and are now firm friends. Yet, but for Annie, one of us might be dead; and the other flying likeCain exiled and miserable. Think of these things, George. The good ofbeing a son, is to be able to profit from your father's mistakes. "

They parted with a handclasp that went to both hearts, and as Hydepassed his mother's loom, he went in, and told her all that happened tohim, She listened with a smile and a heartache. She knew now that thetime had come to say "farewell" to the boy who had made her life fortwenty-seven years. "He must marry like the rest of the world, and goaway from her, " and only mothers know what supreme self-sacrifice apleasant acquiescence in this event implies. But she bravely put downall the clamouring selfishness of her long sweet care and affection, andsaid cheerfully--

"Very much to my liking is Cornelia Moran, She is world-like and heaven-like, and her good heart and sweet nature every one knows. A loving wifeand a noble mother she will make, and if I must lose thee, my Joris, there is no girl in America that I like better to have thee. "

"Never will you lose me, mother. "

"Ah then! that is what all sons say. The common lot, I look for nothingbetter. But see now! I give thee up cheerfully. If God please, I shallsee thy sons and daughters; and thy father has been anxious about theHydes. He would not have a stranger here--nor would I. Our hope is inthee and thy sweet wife, and very glad am I that thy wife is to beCornelia Moran. "

And even after Joris had left her she smiled, though the tears droppeddown upon her work. She thought of the presents she would send herdaughter, and she told herself that Cornelia was an American, and thatshe had made for her, with her own hands and brain, a lovely homewherein HER memory must always dwell. Indeed she let her thoughts go farforward to see, and to listen to the happy boys and girls who might runand shout gleefully through the fair large rooms, and the sweet shadygardens her skill and taste had ordered and planted. Thus her generositymade her a partaker of her children's happiness, and whoever partakes ofa pleasure has his share of it, and comes into contact--not only withthe happiness--but with the other partakers of that happiness--a divinekind of interest for generous deeds, which we may all appropriate. 

Nothing is more contagious than joy, and Hyde was now a living joythrough all the house. His voice had caught a new tone, his feet a morebuoyant step, he carried himself like a man expectant of some gloriousheritage. So eager, so ardent, so ready to be happy, he inspired everyone with his buoyant gladness of heart. He could at least talk toCornelia with his pen every day, yes, every hour if he desired; and ifit had been possible to transfer in a letter his own light-heartedness, the words he wrote would have shone upon the paper. 

The next morning Mary Damer called. She knew that a letter from Corneliawas possible, and she knew also that it would really be as fateful toherself, as to Hyde. If, as she suspected, it was Rem Van Ariens who haddetained the misdirected letter, there was only one conceivable resultas regarded herself. She, an upright, honourable English girl, lovingtruth with all her heart, and despising whatever was underhand anddisloyal, had but one course to take--she must break off her engagementwith a man so far below her standard of simple morality. She could nottrust his honour, and what security has love in a heart without honour?

So she looked anxiously at Annie as she entered, and Annie would notkeep her in suspense. "There was a letter from Miss Moran last night, "she said. "She loves George yet. She re-wrote the unfortunate letter, and this time it found its owner. I think he has it next his heart atthis very moment. "

"I am glad of that, Annie. But who has the first letter?"

"I think you know, Mary. "

"You mean Mr. Van Ariens?"

"Yes. "

"Then there is no more to be said. I shall write to him as soon aspossible. "

"I am sorry--"

"No, no! Be content, Annie. The right must always come right. Neitheryou nor I could desire any other end, even to our own love story. "

"But you must suffer. "

"Not much. None of us weep if we lose what is of no value. And I havenoticed that the happiness of any one is always conditioned by theunhappiness of some one else. Love usually builds his home out of thewrecks of other homes. Your cousin and Cornelia will be happy, but thereare others that must suffer, that they may be so. I will go now, Annie, because until I have written to Mr. Van Ariens, I shall not feel free. And also, I do not wish him to come here, and in his last letter hespoke of such an intention. "

So the two letters--that of Hyde to Cornelia, and that of Mary Darner toVan Ariens, left England for America in the same packet; and though MaryDarner undoubtedly had some suffering and disappointment to conquer, thefight was all within her. To her friends at the Manor she was just thesame bright, courageous girl; ready for every emergency, and equallyready to make the most of every pleasure. 

And the tone of the Manor House was now set to a key of the highest joyand expectation. Hyde unconsciously struck the note, for he was happilybusy from morning to night about affairs relating either to hismarriage, or to his future as the head of a great household. All his oldexigent, extravagant liking for rich clothing returned to him. He hadconstant visits from his London tailor, a dapper little artist, whobrought with him a profusion of rich cloth, silk and satin, and whofirmly believed that the tailor made the man. There were also endlessinterviews with the family lawyer, endless readings of law papers, andendless consultations about rights and successions, which Hyde was gladand grateful to leave very much to his father's wisdom and generosity. 

At the beginning of this happy period, Hyde had been sure that thebusiness of his preparations would be arranged in three weeks; a monthhad appeared to be a quite unreasonable and impossible delay; but themonth passed, and it was nearly the middle of November when all thingswere ready for his voyage. His mother would then have urged apostponement until spring, but she knew that George would brook nofurther delay; and she was wise enough to accept the inevitablecheerfully. And thus by letting her will lead her, in the very roadnecessity drove her, she preserved not only her liberty, but her desire. 

Some of these last days were occupied in selecting from her jewelspresents for Cornelia, with webs of gold and silver tissues, andSpitalfields silks so rich and heavy, that no mortal woman might hope tooutwear them. To these Annie added from her own store of lace, many veryvaluable pieces; and the happy bridegroom was proud to see that love wasgoing to send him away, with both arms full for the beloved. 

The best gift however came last, and it was from the Earl. It was notgold or land, though he gave generously of both these; but one whichHyde felt made his way straight before him, and which he knew must havecost his father much self-abnegation. It was the following letter to Dr. John Moran. 

MY DEAR SIR:

It seems then, that our dear children love each other so well, that itis beyond our right, even as parents, to forbid their marriage. I askfrom you, for my son, who is a humble and ardent suitor for Miss Moran'shand, all the favour his sincere devotion to her deserves, We have bothbeen young, we have both loved, accept then his affection as someatonement for any grievance or injustice you remember against myself. Had we known each other better, we should doubtless have loved eachother better; but now that marriage will make us kin, I offer you myhand, with all it implies of regret for the past, and of respect for thefuture. Your servant to command, RICHARD HYDE. 

"It is the greatest proof of my love I can give you, George, " said theEarl, when the letter had been read; "and it is Annie you must thank forit. She dropped the thought into my heart, and if the thought hassilently grown to these written words, it is because she had put manyother good thoughts there, and that these helped this one to come toperfection. "

"Have you noticed, father, how small and fragile-looking she is? Can shereally be slowly dying?"

"No, she is not dying; she is only going a little further away--a littlefurther away, every hour. Some hour she will be called, and she willanswer, and we shall see her no more--HERE. But I do not call thatdying, and if it be dying, Annie will go as calmly and simply, as if shewere fulfilling some religious rite or duty. She loves God, and she willgo to Him. "

The next morning Hyde left his father's home forever. It was impossiblethat such a parting should be happy. No hopes, no dreams of future joy, could make him forget the wealth of love he was leaving. Nor did he wishto forget. And woe to the man or woman who would buy composure andcontentment by forgetting!--by really forfeiting a portion of theirexistence--by being a suicide of their own moral nature. 

The day was a black winter day, with a monotonous rain and a dark skytroubled by a ghostly wind. Inside the house the silence fell on theheart like a weight. The Earl and Countess watched their son's carriageturn from the door, and then looked silently into each other's face. TheEarl's lips were firmly set, and his eyes full of tears; the Countesswas weeping bitterly. He went with her to her room, and with all his oldcharm and tenderness comforted her for her great loss. 

At that moment Annie was forgotten, yet no one was suffering more thanshe was. Hyde had knelt by her sofa, and taken her in his arms, andcovered her face with tears and kisses, and she had not been able tooppose a parting so heart-breaking and so final. The last tears she wasever to shed dropped from her closed eyes, as she listened to hisdeparting steps; and the roll of the carriage carrying him away forever, seemed to roll over her shrinking heart. She cried out feebly--a pitifullittle shrill cry, that she hushed with a sob still more full ofanguish. Then she began to cast over her suffering soul the balm ofprayer, and prostrate with closed eyes, and hands feebly hanging down, Doctor Roslyn found her. He did not need to ask a question, he had longknown the brave self-sacrifice that was consecrating the child-heartsuffering so sharply that day; and he said only--

"We are made perfect through suffering, Annie. "

"I know, dear father. "

"And you have found before this, that the sorrow well borne is full ofstrange joys--joys, whose long lasting perfumes, show that they weregrown in heaven and not on earth. "

"This is the last sorrow that can come to me, father. "

"And my dear Annie, you would have been a loser without it. Every griefhas its meaning, and the web of life could not be better woven, if onlylove touched it. "

"I have been praying, father. "

"Nay, but God Himself prayed in you, while your soul waited in deepresignation. God gave you both the resignation and the answer. "

"My heart failed me at the last--then I prayed as well as I could. "

"And then, visited by the NOT YOURSELF in you, your head was lifted up. Do not be frightened at what you want. Strive for it little by little. All that is bitter in outward things, or in interior things, all thatbefalls you in the course of a day, is YOUR DAILY BREAD if you will takeit from His hand. "

Then she was silent and quite still, and he sat and watched the graduallifting of the spirit's cloud--watched, until the pallor of her facegrew luminous with the inner light, and her wide open eyes saw, as in avision, things, invisible to mortal sight; but open to the spirit onthat dazzling line where mortal and immortal verge. 

And as he went home, stepping slowly through the misty world, he himselfhardly knew whether he was in the body or out of it. He felt not thedripping rain, he was not conscious of the encompassing earthly vapours, he had passed within the veil and was worshipping

 "In dazzling temples opened straight to Him, Where One who had greatlightnings for His crown Was suddenly made present; vast and dim Throughcrowded pinions of the Cherubim. "

And his feet stumbled not, nor was he aware of anything around, untilthe Earl met him at the park gates and touching him said reverently--

"Father, you are close to the highway. Have you seen Annie?"

"I have just left her. "

"She is further from us than ever. "

"Richard Hyde, " he answered, " she is on her way to God, and she canrest nothing short of that. "

CHAPTER XIV

"HUSH! LOVE IS HERE!"

On the morning that Hyde sailed for America, Cornelia received theletter he had written her on the discovery of Rem's dishonourableconduct. So much love, so much joy, sent to her in the secret foldingsof a sheet of paper! In a hurry of delight and expectation she openedit, and her beaming eyes ran all over the joyful words it brought her--sweet fluttering pages, that his breath had moved, and his face beenaware of. How he would have rejoiced to see her pressing them to herbosom, at some word of fonder memory or desire. 

There was much in this letter which it was necessary her father andmother should hear--the Earl's message to them--Hyde's own propositionfor an immediate marriage, and various necessities referring to thisevent. But she was proud and happy to read words of such noble, straightforward affection; and the Doctor was especially pleased by thedeference expressed for his wishes. When he left the house that day hekissed his daughter with pride and tenderness, and said to Mrs. Moran--

"Ava, there will be much to get, and much to do in a short time, butmoney manages all things Do not spare where it is necessary. " And thenwhat important and interesting consultations followed! what lists oflovely garments became imperative, which an hour before had not beendreamed of! what discussions as to mantua makers and milliners! as toguests and ceremonies! as to all the details of a life unknown, butinvested by love and youth, with a delightfully overwhelming importance. 

Cornelia was so happy that her ordinary dress of grey camelot did notexpress her; she felt constrained to add to it some bows of brightscarlet ribbon, and then she looked round about her room, and wentthrough her drawers, to find something else to be a visible witness tothe light heart singing within her. And she came across some coral combsthat Madame Jacobus had given her, and felt their vivid colouring in theshining masses of her dark hair, to be one of the right ways of sayingto herself, and all she loved, "See how happy I am!"

In the afternoon, when the shopping for the day had been accomplished, she went to Captain Jacobus, to play with him the game of backgammonwhich had become an almost daily duty, and to which the Captain attacheda great importance. Indeed, for many weeks it had been the event ofevery day to him; and if he was no longer dependent on it, he wasgrateful enough to acknowledge all the good it had done him. "I owe yourdaughter as much as I owe you, sir, " he would say to Doctor Moran, "andI owe both of you a bigger debt than I can clear myself of. "

This afternoon he looked at his visitor with a wondering speculation. There was something in her face, and manner, and voice, he had neverbefore seen or heard, and madame--who watched every expression of herhusband--was easily led to the same observation. She observed Corneliaclosely, and her gay laugh especially revealed some change. It was likethe burst of bird song in early spring, and she followed the happy girlto the front door, and called her back when she had gone down the steps, and said, as she looked earnestly in her face--

"You have heard from Joris Hyde? I know you have!" and Cornelia noddedher head, and blushed, and smiled, and ran away from further question. 

When she reached home she found Madame Van Heemskirk sitting with hermother, and the sweet old lady rose to meet her, and said beforeCornelia could utter a word:

"Come to me, Cornelia. This morning a letter we have had from my Joris, and sorry am I that I did thee so much wrong. "

"Madame, I have long ago forgotten it; and there was a mistake allround, " answered Cornelia, cheerfully. 

"That is so--and thy mistake first of all. Hurry is misfortune; even tobe happy, it is not wise to hurry. Listen now! Joris has written to hisgrandfather, and also to me, and very busy he will keep us both. Hisgrandfather is to look after the stables and the horses, and to buy morehorses, and to hire serving men of all kinds. And a long letter also Ihave had from my daughter Katherine, and she tells me to make her dutyto thee my duty. That is my pleasure also, and I have been talking withthy mother about the house. Now I shall go there, and a very pleasanthome I shall make it. Many things Joris will bring with him--two newcarriages and much fine furniture--and I know not what else beside. "

Then Cornelia kissed madame, and afterwards removed her bonnet; andmadame looked at her smiling. The vivid coral in her dark hair, themodest grey dress with its knots of colour, and above all the lovelyface alight with love and hope, delighted her. 

"Very pretty art thou, very pretty indeed!" she said, impulsively; andthen she added, "Many other girls are very pretty also, but my Jorisloves thee, and I am glad that it is thee, and very welcome art thou tome, and very proud is my husband of thee. And now I must go, becausethere is much to do, and little time to do it in. "

For nearly a week Cornelia was too busy to take Arenta into herconsideration. She did not care to tell her about Rem's cruel anddishonourable conduct, and she was afraid the shrewd little Marquisewould divine some change, and get the secret out of her. Indeed, Arentawas not long in suspecting something unusual in the Doctor's household--the number of parcels and of work people astonished her; and she was nota little offended at Madame Van Heemskirk spending a whole afternoon sonear to her, and "never even, " as she said to her father, "turning herhead this way. " For Arenta had drunk a rather long draught of popularinterest, and she could not bear to believe it was declining. Was shenot the American heroine of 1793? It was almost a want of patriotism inMadame Van Heemskirk to neglect her. 

After a week had elapsed Cornelia went over one morning to see herfriend. But by this time Arenta knew everything. Her brother Rem hadbeen with her and confessed all to his sister. It had not been apleasant meeting by any means. She heard the story with indignation, butcontrived to feel that somehow Rem was not so much to blame as Cornelia, and other people. 

"You are right served, " she said to her brother, "for meddling withforeigners, and especially for mixing your love affairs up with anEnglish girl. Proud, haughty creatures all of them! And you are a veryfool to tell any woman such a--crime. Yes, it is a crime. I won't sayless. That girl over the way nearly died, and you would have let herdie. It was a shame. I don't love Cornelia--but it was a shame. "

"The letter was addressed to me, Arenta. "

"Fiddlesticks! You knew it was not yours. You knew it was Hyde's. Whereis it now?"

She asked the question in her usual dominant way, and Rem did not feelable to resist it. He looked for a moment at the angry woman, and wassubdued by her air of authority. He opened his pocketbook and from areceptacle in it, took the fateful letter. She seized and read it, andthen without a word, or a moment's hesitation threw it into the fire. 

Rem blustered and fumed, and she stood smiling defiantly at him. "Youare like all criminals, " she said; "you must keep something to accuseyourself with. I love you too well to permit you to carry that bit ofpaper about you. It has worked you harm enough. What are you going todo? Is Miss Darner's refusal quite final?"

"Quite. It was even scornful. "

"Plenty of nice girls in Boston. "

"I cannot go back to Boston. "

"Why then?"

"Because Mary's cousin has told the whole affair. "

"Nonsense!"

"She has. I know it. Men, whom I had been friendly with, got out of myway; women excused themselves at their homes, and did not see me on thestreets. I have no doubt all Boston is talking of the affair. "

"Then come back to New York. New Yorkers attend strictly to their ownlove affairs. Father will stand by you; and I will. "

"Father will not. He called me a scoundrel, when I told him last night, and advised me to go to the frontier. Joris Van Heemskirk will not talk, but madame will chatter for him, and I could not bear to meet DoctorMoran. As for Captain Jacobus, he would invent new words and oaths toabuse me with, and Aunt Angelica would, of course, say amen to all hesays;--and there are others. "

"Yes, there is Lord Hyde. "

"Curse him! But I intended to give him his letter--now you have burntit. "

"You intended nothing of the kind, Rem. Go away as soon as you can. Idon't want to know where you go just yet. New York is impossible, andBoston is impossible. Father says go to the frontier, I say go South. What you have done, you have done; and it cannot be undone; so don'tcarry it about with you. And I would let women alone--they are beyondyou--go in for politics. "

That day Rem lingered with his sister, seeing no one else; and in theevening shadows he slipped quietly away. He was very wretched, for hereally loved Mary Damer, and his disappointment was bitterly keen andhumiliating. Besides which, he felt that his business efforts for twoyears were forfeited, and that he had the world to begin over again. Without a friend to wish him a Godspeed the wretched man went on boardthe Southern packet, and in her dim lonely cabin sat silent anddespondent, while she fought her way through swaying curtains of rain tothe open sea. Its great complaining came up through the darkness to him, and seemed to be the very voice of the miserable circumstances, that hadseparated and estranged his life from all he loved and desired. 

This sudden destruction of all her hopes for her brother distressedArenta. Her own marriage had been a most unfortunate one, but itsmisfortunes had the importance of national tragedy. She had even pluckedhonour to herself from the bloody tumbril and guillotine. But Rem'smatrimonial failure had not one redeeming quality; it was altogether ashameful and well-deserved retribution. And she had boasted to herfriends not a little of the great marriage her brother was soon to make, and even spoken of Miss Damer, as if a sisterly affection alreadyexisted between them. She could anticipate very well the smiles andshrugs, the exclamations and condolences she might have to encounter, and she was not pleased with her brother for putting her in a positionlikely to make her disagreeable to people. 

But the heart of her anger was Cornelia--" but for that girl, " Rem wouldhave married Mary Damer, and his home in Boston might have been full ofopportunities for her, as well as a desirable change when she wearied ofNew York. Altogether it was a hard thing for her, as well as a dreadfulsorrow for Rem; and she could not think of Cornelia without anger, "Justfor her, " she kept saying as she dressed herself with an elaboratesimplicity, "Just for her! Very much she intruded herself into myaffairs; my marriage was her opportunity with Lord Hyde, and now all shecan do is to break up poor Rem's marriage. "

When Cornelia entered the Van Ariens parlour Arenta was already there. She was dressed in a gown of the blackest and softest bombazine andcrape. It had a distinguishing want of all ornament, but it was for thatreason singularly effective against her delicate complexion and palegolden hair. She looked offended, and hardly spoke to her old friend, but Cornelia was prepared for some exhibition of anger. She had not beento see Arenta for a whole week, and she did not doubt she had been wellaware of something unusual in progress. But that Rem had accused himselfdid not occur to her; therefore she was hardly prepared for thepassionate accusations with which Arenta assailed her. 

"I think, " she said, "you have behaved disgracefully to poor Rem! Youwould not have him yourself, and yet you prevent another girl--whom heloves far better than ever he loved you--from marrying him. He has goneaway 'out of the world, ' he says, and indeed I should not wonder if hekills himself. It is most certain you have done all you can to drive himto it, "

"Arenta! I have no idea what you mean. I have not seen Rem, nor writtento Rem, for more than two years. "

"Very likely, but you have written about him. You wrote to Miss Darner, and told her Rem purposely kept a letter, which you had sent to LordHyde, "

"I did not write to Miss Damer. I do not know the lady. But Rem DID keepa letter that belonged to Lord Hyde. "

Then anger gave falsehood the bit and she answered, "Rem did NOT keepany letter that belonged to Lord Hyde. Prove that he did so, before youaccuse him. You cannot. "

"I unfortunately directed Lord Hyde's letter to Rem, and Rem's letter toLord Hyde. Rem knew that he had Lord Hyde's letter, and he should havetaken it at once to him. "

"Lord Hyde had Rem's letter; he ought to have taken it at once to Rem. "

"There was not a word in Rem's letter to identify it as belonging tohim. "

"Then you ought to be ashamed to write love letters that would do forany man that received them. A poor hand you must be, to blunder over twolove letters. I have had eight, and ten, at once to answer, and I neverfailed to distinguish each; and while rivers run into the sea I nevershall misdirect my love letters. I do not believe Rem ever got yourletter, and I will not believe it, either now or ever. I dare be bound, Balthazar lost it on the way. Prove to me he did not. "

"Oh, indeed! I think you know better. "

"Very clever is Lord Hyde to excuse himself by throwing the blame onpoor Rein. Very mean indeed to accuse him to the girl he was going tomarry. To be sure, any one with an ounce of common sense to guide them, must see through the whole affair. "

"Arenta, I have the most firm conviction of Rem's guilt, and thegreatest concern for his disappointment. I assure you I have. "

"Kindly reserve your concern, Miss Moran, till Rem Van Ariens asks forit. As for his guilt, there is no guilt in question. Even supposing thatRem did keep Lord Hyde's letter, what then? All things are fair in loveand war, Willie Nicholls told me last night, he would keep a hundredletters, if he thought he could win me by doing so. Any man of sensewould. "

"All I blame Rem for is--"

"All I blame Rem for is, that he asked you to marry him. So much forthat! I hope if he meddles with women again, he will seek an all-roundcommon-sense Dutch girl, who will know how to direct her letters--orelse be content with one lover. "

"Arenta, I shall go now. I have given you an opportunity to be rude andunkind. You cannot expect me to do that again. "

She watched Cornelia across the street, and then turned to the mirror, and wound her ringlets over her fingers. "I don't care, " she muttered. "It was her fault to begin with. She tempted Rem, and he fell. Menalways fall when women tempt them; it is their nature to. I am going tostand by Rem, right or wrong, and I only wish I could tell Mary Damerwhat I think of her. She has another lover, of course she has--or shewould not have talked about her 'honour' to Rem. "

To such thoughts she was raging, when Peter Van Ariens came home todinner, and she could not restrain them. He listened for a minute ortwo, and then struck the table no gentle blow?

"In my house, Arenta, " he said, "I will have no such words. What youthink, you think; but such thoughts must be shut close in your mind. Inkeeping that letter, I say Rem behaved like a scoundrel; he was cruel, and he was a coward. Because he is my son I will not excuse him. Noindeed! For that very reason, the more angry am I at such a deed. Nowthen, he shall acknowledge to George Hyde and Cornelia Moran the wronghe did them, ere in my home and my heart, he rights himself. "

"Is Cornelia going to be married?"

"That is what I hear. "

"To Lord Hyde?"

"That also, is what I hear. "

"Well, as I am in mourning, I cannot go to the wedding; so then I amdelighted to have told her a little of my mind. "

"It is a great marriage for the Doctor's daughter; a countess she willbe. "

"And a marquise I am. And will you please say, if either countess ormarquise is better than mistress or madame? Thank all the powers thatbe! I have learned the value of a title, and I shall change marquise formistress, as soon as I can do so. "

"If always you had thought thus, a great deal of sorrow we had both beenspared. "

"Well, then, a girl cannot get her share of wisdom, till she comes toit. After all, I am now sorry I have quarrelled with Cornelia. In NewYork and Philadelphia she will be a great woman. "

"To take offence is a great folly, and to give offence is a great folly--I know not which is the greater, Arenta. "

"Oh, indeed, father, " she answered, "if I am hurt and angry, I shalltake the liberty to say so. Anger that is hidden cannot be gratified;and if people use me badly, it is my way to tell them I am aware of it. One may be obliged to eat brown bread, but I, for one, will say it isbrown bread, and not white. "

"Your own way you will take, until into some great trouble you stumble. "

"And then my own way I shall take, until out of it I stumble. "

"I have told Rem what he must do. Like a man he must say, 'I did wrong, and I am sorry for it, ' and so well I think of those he has wronged, asto be sure they will answer, 'It is forgiven. '"

"And forgotten. "

"That is different. To forgive freely, is what we owe to our enemy; toforget not, is what we owe to ourselves. "

"But if Rem's fault is forgiven, and not forgotten, what good will it dohim? I have seen that every one forgives much in themselves that theyfind unpardonable in other people. "

"In so far, Arenta, we are all at fault. "

"I think it is cruel, father, to ask Rem to speak truth to his owninjury. Even the law is kinder than you, it asks no man to accusehimself. "

"Right wrongs no man. Till others move in this matter, you be quiet. Ifyou talk, evil words you will say; and mind this, Arenta, the evil thatcomes out of your lips, into your own bosom will fall. All my life Ihave seen this. "

But Arenta could not be quiet. She would sow thorns, though she had towalk unshod; and her father's advice moved her no more than a breathmoves a mountain. In the same afternoon she saw Madame Jacobus going toDoctor Moran's, and the hour she remained there, was full of misery toher impetuous self-adoring heart. She was sure they were talking of Remand herself; and as she had all their conversation to imagine, she cameto conclusions in accord with her suspicions. 

But she met her aunt at the door and brought her eagerly into theparlour. She had had no visitors that day, and was bored and restlessand longing for conversation. "I saw you go to the Doctor's an hour ago, aunt, " she said. "I hope the Captain is well. "

"Jacobus is quite well, thank God and Doctor Moran--and Cornelia. I havebeen looking at some of her wedding gowns. A girl so happy, and whodeserves to be so happy, I never saw. What a darling she is!"

"It is now the fashion to rave about her. I suppose they found timeenough to abuse poor Rem. And you could listen to them! I would not havedone so! No! not if listening had meant salvation for the whole Moranfamily. "

"You are a remarkably foolish young woman. They never named Rem. Peopleso happy, do not remember the bringer of sorrow. He has been shut out--in the darkness and cold. But I heard from Madame Van Heemskirk whyCornelia and that delightful young man were not married two years ago. Iam ashamed of Rem. I can never forgive him. He is a disgrace to thefamily. And that is why I came here to-day. I wish you to make Remunderstand that he must not come near his Uncle Jacobus. When Jacobus isangry, he will call heaven and earth and hell to help him speak hismind, and I have nearly cured him of a habit which is so distressing tome, and such a great wrong to his own soul. The very sight of Rem wouldbreak every barrier down, and let a flood of words loose, that wouldmake him suffer afterwards. I will not have Jacobus led into suchtemptation. I have not heard an oath from him for six months. "

"I suppose you would never forgive Jacobus, if you did hear one?"

"That is another matter. I hope I have a heart to forgive whateverJacobus does, or says--he is my husband. "

"It is then less wicked to blaspheme Almighty God, than to keep one ofLord Hyde's love letters. One fault may be forgiven, the other isunpardonable. Dear me! how religiously ignorant I am. As for my uncleswearing--and the passions that thus express themselves--everybody knowsthat anything that distantly resembles good temper, will suit CaptainJacobus. "

"You look extremely handsome when you are scornful, Arenta; but it isnot worthwhile wasting your charms on me. I am doing what I can to helpJacobus to keep his tongue clean, and I will not have Rem lead him intotemptation. As for Rem, he is guilty of a great wrong; and he must nowdo what his father told him to do--work day and night, as men work, whena bridge is broken down. The ruin must be got out of the way, and thebridge rebuilt, then it will be possible to open some pleasant andprofitable traffic with human beings again--not to speak of heaven. "

"You are right--not to speak of heaven, I think heaven would be morecharitable. Rem will not trouble Captain Jacobus. For my part I think aman that cannot bear temptation is very poorly reformed. If my unclecould see Rem, and yet keep his big and little oaths under bonds, Ishould believe in his clean tongue. "

"Arenta, you are tormenting yourself with anger and ill-will, and aboveall with jealousy. In this way you are going to miss a deal of pleasure. I advise you not to quarrel with Cornelia. She will be a great resource. I myself am looking forward to the delightful change Jacobus may have atHyde Manor. It will make a new life for him, and also for me. Thisafternoon something is vexing you. I shall take no offence. You willregret your bad temper to-morrow. "

To-morrow Arenta did regret; but people do not always say they aresorry, when they feel so. She sat in the shadow of her window curtainsand watched the almost constant stream of visitors, and messengers, andtradespeople at Doctor Moran's house; and she longed to have her handsamong the lovely things, and to give her opinion about the delightfulevents sure to make the next few weeks full of interest and pleasure. And after she had received a letter from Rem, she resolved to humbleherself that she might be exalted. 

"Rem is already fortunate, and I can't help him by fighting his battle. Forgetfulness, is the word. For this wrong can have no victory, and tobe forgotten, is the only hope for it. Beside, Cornelia had her fullshare in my happiness, and I will not let myself be defrauded of myshare in her happiness--not for a few words--no! certainly not. "

This reflection a few times reiterated resulted in the following note--

MY DEAR CORNELIA:I want to say so much, that I cannot say anything but--forgive me. I amshaken to pieces by my dreadful sufferings, and sometimes, I do not knowwhat I say, even to those I love. Blame my sad fortune for my bad words, and tell me you long to forgive me, as I long to be forgiven. Your ARENTA. 

"That will be sufficient, " she reflected; "and after all, Cornelia is asweet girl. I am her first and dearest friend, and I am determined tokeep my place. It has made me very angry to see those Van Dien girls, and those Sherman girls, running in and out of the Moran house as ifthey owned Cornelia. Well then, if I have had to eat humble pie, I havehad my say, and that takes the bitter taste out of my mouth--and asensible woman must look to her future. I dare warrant, Cornelia is nowanswering my letter. I dare warrant, she will forgive me very sweetly. "

She spent half-an-hour in such reflections, and then Cornelia enteredwith a smiling face. She would not permit Arenta to say another word ofregret; she stifled all her self-reproaches in an embrace, and she tookher back with her to her own home. And no further repentance embarrassedArenta. She put her ready wit, and her clever hands to a score ofbelated things; and snubbed and contradicted the Van Dien and Shermangirls into a respectful obedience to her earlier friendship, and widerexperience. Everything that she directed, or took charge of, went withan unmistakable vigour to completion; and even Madame Van Heemskirk wasdelighted with her ability, and grateful for her assistance. 

"The poor Arenta!" she said to Mrs. Moran; "very helpful she is to us, and for her brother's fault she is not to blame. Wrong it would be tovisit it on her. "

And Arenta not only felt this gracious justice for herself, she lookedmuch further forward, for she said to her father, "It is really forRem's sake I am so obliging. By and by people will say 'there is notruth in that letter story. The Marquise is the friend of Lady Hyde;they are like clasped hands, and that could not be so, if Rem Van Arienshad done such a dreadful thing. It is all nonsense. ' And if I hear aword about it, I shall know how to smile, and lift my shoulders, andkill suspicion with contempt. Yes, for Rem's sake, I have done the bestthing. "

So happily the time went on, that it appeared wonderful when Christmaswas close at hand. Every preparation was then complete. The Manor Housewas a very picture of splendid comfort and day by day Cornelia'sexquisite wardrobe came nearer to perfection. It was a very joy to gointo the Moran house. The mother, with a happy light upon her face, wentto-and-fro with that habitual sweet serenity, which kept the temperatureof expectant pleasure at a degree not too exhausting for continuance. The doctor was so satisfied with affairs, that he was often heard timinghis firm, strong steps to snatches of long forgotten military songs; andCornelia, knowing her lover was every day coming nearer and nearer, wasjust as happy as a girl loving and well beloved, ought to be. Sorrow wasall behind her, and a great joy was coming to meet her. Until mortallove should become immortal, she could hope for no sweeter interlude inlife. 

Her beauty had increased wonderfully; hope had more than renewed heryouth, and confident love had given to her face and form, a splendour ofcolour and expression, that captivated everybody; though why, or how, they never asked--she charmed, because she charmed. She was the love, the honey, the milk of sweetest human nature. 

One day the little bevy of feminine councillors looked at their work, and pronounced all beautiful, and all finished; and then there was alull in the busy household, and then every one was conscious of being alittle weary; and every one also felt, that it would be well to letheart, and brain, and fingers, and feet rest. In a few days there wouldlikely be another English letter, and they could then form some idea asto when Lord Hyde would arrive. The last letter received from him hadbeen written in London, and the ship in which he was to sail, was takingon her cargo, while he impatiently waited at his hotel for notice of herbeing ready to lift her anchor. The doctor thought it highly probableHyde would follow this letter in a week, or perhaps less. 

During this restful interval, Doctor and Mrs. Moran drove out oneafternoon to Hyde Manor House. A message from Madame Van Heemskirk askedthis favour from them; she wished naturally that they should see howexquisitely beautiful and comfortable was the home, which her Joris hadtrusted her to prepare for his bride. But she did not wish Cornelia tosee it, until the bride-groom himself took her across its threshold. "Anold woman's fancy it is, " she said to Mrs. Moran; "but no harm is therein it, and not much do I like women who bustle about their houses, andhave no fancies at all. "

"Nor I, " answered Mrs. Moran with a merry little laugh. "Do you know, that I told John to buy my wedding ring too wide, because I often heardmy mother say that a tight wedding ring was unlucky. " Then both womensmiled, and began delightedly to look over together the stores of finelinen and damask, which the mother of Joris had laid up for her son'suse. 

It was a charming visit, and the sweet pause in the vivid life of thepast few weeks, was equally charming to Cornelia. She rested in her roomtill the short daylight ended; then she went to the parlour and drank acup of tea, and closed the curtains, and sat down by the hearth to waitfor her father and mother. It was likely they would be a little late, but the moon was full and the sleighing perfect, and then she was surethey would have so much to tell her, when they did reach home. 

So still was the house, so still was the little street, that she easilywent to the land of reverie, and lost herself there. She thought overagain all her life with her lover; recalled his sweet spirit, his loyalaffection, his handsome face, and enchanting manner. "Heaven has made meso fortunate, " she thought, "and now my fortune has arrived at mywishes. Even his delay is sweet. I desire to think of him, until allother thoughts are forgotten! Oh, what lover could be loved as I lovehim!"

Then with a soft but quick movement the door flew open, she lifted hereyes, to fill them with love's very image and vesture; and with a cry ofjoy flew to meet the bliss so long afar, but now so near. "O lovely andbeloved! O my love!" Hyde cried, and then there was a twofold silence;the very ecstasy that no mortal words can utter. The sacred hour forwhich all their lives had longed, was at last dropt down to them fromheaven. Between their kisses they spoke of things remembered, and ofthings to be, leaning to each other in visible sweetness, while

"Love breathed in sighs and silences Through two blent souls, one rapturous undersong. "