Rubina ...
page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]RUBINA. NEW YORK: IAM-REGORY, 46, WALKER -. - - Fl2S G GREORY, 6, W LRERSTREET. IiM DCCC LYIV. page: [View Page ] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, , BY JAMES G. GREGORY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New. York. C. A. ALxVOD, BTBRBOTYER AND PaINTE& I DEDICATE this book to my sister. In memory of a love be- yond the parental, a friendliness beyond friendship, brightening . the darkness of our mutual lives, and exalting joy into the holier lustre of happiness. page: [View Page ] CHAPTER L IT was still raining. I stood by the window, gating idly out on the darkening landscape. This was the extreme oft dreariness. No charm shone for me in the heavens, where stretched one vast robe of low hanging cloud; still less charm lay in the battered, dingy piles, called by courtesy dwellings, opposite. The street was narrow. The wet, slip- pery pavement was destitute of passengers. A tiny pool of water had collected in a hollow of the outside window-sill, which, with the usual fertility of infant imaginations, I was converting into a boundless sea, picturing thereon tiny, fan- ciful craft of marvellous shapes, and bearing extravagant names-how or whence suggested I know not. Borne out on such airy pinions of fancy, the present-sharp, hateful, with its humble surroundings and its sad prospective -vanished in content.. Insensibly, this fancy broadened, deepened. Earth contained it no longer. Now, it was a fairy bark, careering on aerial seas, with mortal life drop. ped far in the distance; then, all life receded, and color alone steeped my senses in gorgeous bewilderment. Swift courser, ever changing, is Fancy. What wondrous regions I visited; what crude shapes flitted through my brain, fretting--it with vain attempts at analysis! What bright impossibilities dawn- ed on me realities. page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] g RUBINA. These, though not unusual, were my happiest moments; a rest when weary, a solace after punishment, a genial playmate in hours of loneliness. . Mine was no happy childhood. I state this fact, without regret or reproqaches, from my present stand-point. It is easily sighted. Looking back to that childish drama of wild, half-suppressed wonderings at more mature actors; having vague perceptions of truths they sought to smother from their own consciousness; revelling in interdicted puzzles over the seeming uselessness of Life, and the dread certainty of Death, I shrink back appalled at the intensity of the thoughts which I dared not express. My mother repeatedly assured me, in language severe, and with uplifted finger, that ingratitude for the blessing of existence was sure to be visited with Divine displeasure; that " the hope set before us in the Gospel" was all one ought to desire ; and that if we succeeded in glorifying Christ-no matter whether we were saved or lost at last-we should be supremely happy: a confusion of ideas, a conflict of theory and practice, I did not pretend to understand, but which left an unpleasant doubt to torture me. Constitutions differ. It is essentially right that all should not be happy. Pleasure cultivates some human soils, but Pain is by far the more efficient agent. Heaven teaches us this fact, and into some lives pours all its rains. It is as though the dry, baked soil needed frequent drenchings to soften it to fertilizing influences-a continual inundation of sorrows, defeats, losses, and great, crushing disappointments, to plough the unproductive stubble and prepare the furrows for the heavenly seed. The earthly pilgrimage is made, with grief for a haunting fellow-passenger; and the couch of thorns exchanged only for the oblivious one of the grave. A pre- sentiment that such was to be my needed discipline hovered RUBINA. 9 around my thoughts that night-cheating the pictures held there of half their brightness. + Then they suddenly doffed control, and swept far and wide over'my backward horizon. I remembered a home far different from this, where every appointment was elegant. I recalled the lofty rooms, the vivid lines in the soft carpets, the furniture-too sacred for my baby fingers- to touch-and the handsome woman ruling over it. This latter picture I approach in awe. Pride speaks from the polished brow. Will compresses the richly-tinted lips. Energetic perseverance glows in the large gray eyes: when angry they expand and brighten, as though the vindic- tive flame, lurking and warming the depths below, could no longer brook delay; and they send forth sparks of warning to keep away, as far away as may be. In vain, as I scan these features, do I seek for a sign; some tender ray--a pitiful ca- ress-to show me unsealed the door to her heart The cool reserve of her manner is impenetrable. Conventional re. straints warp diffidence into dignity ofttimes. So I am will- ing to believe that fond emotions existed there, if destined to remain in their cave, unvisited, unseen. I used at times to long-as passionately as an infantile nature can long-- to be lifted on that silken lap, to be pressed to the velvet bosom, and thus quiet the insatiable craving for my mother's love; but I never dared claim the privilege. When she was in trouble I divined it, and would sometimes totter up to her, in childish fashion essaying consolation. She never wept in those days. When sad, a mortal paleness overspread her face, and deep lines seamed the brow. I knew these tokens well. Often I stood quietly by her chair saying' nothing, doing nothing, yet quivering over with sympathy; with an intense desire to allay the pang. Sometimes I gently stroked her hands; or leaned imy face against her shoulder. Then page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 R. UBNA. she would look sharply around, and order me away in a cold, implacable tone; not unfrequently accompanying the man. date with a push, the sooner to enforce obedience. If I fell, she looked. on grimly, deigning no help to replace me in a walking posture. If I cried, either in pain or anger, one whispered utterance, "Hush!" compelled its instant cessation. For this reason, of her unsympathetic indifference, I loved my father better. I have been told often enough since, that he was not as good as I supposed him; but I remember many a kindly kiss and comforting word which, an hungered as I went daily for a little affection, sank deep in my heart, sow- ing the seeds of immortal love for him, which beyond this life, if fate denies it here, will yield him a plentiful harvest. I smiled incredulously when my mother spoke of his wicked- ness. For me, these early wayside shrines, crowned with forget-me-nots of an otherwise too dreary infancy, stood out in freshened bloom, and -memory at them knelt lovingly. Children are keen observers. The incidents of early years surpass those of later life in vividness. Waking suddenly,- who ever notes the transition --from semi-idiotic infancy to intelligent childhood; from immature dreams floating con- fusedly over the camera; the mental plate, freshy polished by the great artist Nature, slides therein, receiving on its pure, yielding surface the first presenting object.- Not all the washings of after years can wholly efface the sharp outlines. I caught and fixed indelibly the spectacle of two dissimilar natures, indissolubly bound in one daily life-to each, in dif- ferent ways, uncongenial. Their marriage was like an iron- fetter, and it chafed severely. It might have been a flowery wreath but for the scorpion lurking in pride, to annul every suggestion of compliance; to infuse poison when there should have been healthful peace. Love tokes his flight when the RUBINA. " stern reign of pitiless Duty begins. Their- differences were not often wordy, but they seemed to surround themselves when together with innumerable points of steely obstinacy, which, coming in -contact; invariably clashed. I do not think such conflicts left them ashamed, or even repentant; but to' mie it seemed as though the air was freely strewn with nettles, multiplying their noxious products with' fearful: rapidity. "When I speak I mean it, Cornelius," my mother would say, in her most decisive tone. And thenher brow would be suddenly seamed with wrinkles. It always brought the retort, "I expect to be obeyed, Caroline. It is your place to submit," with irritation and flashing eye, as the door slammed behind his hasty exit. Leaving this dreary waste of dissension, there slowly rises the vision of a dismembered home; of a forsaken woman, who, bowed to the very dust, yet disdains all sympathy, reso. lutely casts off humility, and, cut adrift from the sheltering har- bor of home dand a husband's protection, the roaring cataracts of public gossip, scandal, and sneers to stem; unfeeling questions to evade; a mighty sorrow to be concealed; a helpless child to be supported; and the wrecks of a handsome fortune to be laboriously gathered in,--mere stranded spars of illusive' hope, looking substantial enough in the distance, but melt- ing in the avaricious clutch of attorneys' bony fingers, like an- avalanche under summer skies and showers,--yet lifts a bold front to the storm, and resolves to weather it cheerily. The panorama of grief shifts rapidly. There seems a spe- cies of freemasonry behind the scenes; a banded brotherhood, each dragging after him a fellow-sorrow. My mother never told me the cause of my father's sudden departure. Whether debt and the consequent disgrace -debts to such an extent that no prospect opened of future page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 UBinmA. repayment-or crime, and the fear of punishment; or weari- ness of domestic bickerings, impelled his flight, I am left to indge. The desertion was complete. Hle never returned; neither did he send back any message of farewell; or leave a clue, whereby he might be traced. Three months after, my little sister was born to an heritage of sorrowful poverty. I have a sickening sense of frequent movings; of seeing the grand old furniture sold piecemeal to supply some press- ing need. All this changed my mother. The imperious dame, whose will was law in her own estimation, vanished. In her stead rose a pale, Saddened woman, toiling the live- long day to gain a decent sustenance; whose health gradually sank under the weight of these privations; and whose un- availing penitence caused bitter, wakeful nights, plentifully bedewed with remorseful tears. Her restlessness frequently awoke me; I dared not speak or move in answer to her murmurs; but her sighs and constant refrain, "Oh, Cornelius, Cornelius!" cut me to the heart. This was only at night. With the morrow's light, her calmness dawned anew. Such a nature as my mother possessed could quaff unflinchingly the gall and wormwood in her cup--but no curious eyes must look on- when she drained it. Had she known of my sympathy she would have scornfully repelled it. A low sound broke the spell, conjured in silence and gloom; routed contemplation of the ideal, and sternly thrust before me the actual. This then was the scene I beheld as I turned reluctantly from the window. XA low-ceiled room in the attic of a third-rate boarding-house. It was very dingily furnished with scant remnants of former days' belongings. A smouldering fire in the small box stove. A cradle with a sweet rosy incumbent-this last item the darkness did not reveal, but I knew the fact well before--and a low cot RUBINA. 13 whereon, pale and wasted, writhing uneasily on the bunchy, uncomfortable straw, lay my mother. It was her voice which roused me. I sought a moment for matches, lit the low night-lamp, which gave out but a flickering gleam, fed with too scanty a measure of oil. I added a stick to the dying embers, regardless of the prudent sigh with which she half -raised her head to watch me; kneeling. on the uncarpeted floor, I fanned it into flane with my breath, and watched it slowly kindle. "Well," I reflected, " things might be worse. Thousands have no fire. I pity them. This is my weakness. I like to see the flames leaping and crackling their fierce tongues over their victim; dancing such grotesque shadows on the gloomy walls; and giving out such a cheerful roar of delight : but alas.! we have but a few sticks left, and after the box is broken and burned, I see no prospect of more fuel. You are too extravagant," I added aloud to the fire; '" make all the noise you like, but you should really consume more slowly." "What in the world are you talking about, child?" in- quired my mother, -in amazement. i I laughed "Giving sensible advice to the stove, little old boxie here." I got up and gave the rusty damper an affec- tionate kick. ' Don't! you make my head ache," said my mother, sharp- ly, " you are so heedless." "I know it," I humbly responded, feeling deeply repentant: I had not meant to make a noise to add to her suffering. ' Then why don't you stop it?" she asked, querulously. "I really believe sometimes that you want to kill me; when you haven't any mother, perhaps you'll think of these things." At this dreadful idea I came near sobbing. "Oh!"I Vw page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " RUBINA. ejaculated, convulsively; then a great bunch rose in my throat, precluding the possibility of getting out any more words. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her; how anxious I was to make her better; and how -surely I should die if she did' --for I really thought so then-but I could not utter a syl- lable. AMy mother probably took my silence for sullenness, for she said no more. A long time after, I approached and bent over her pillow. "Do you want any thing . Can I do any thing for you, mother?" "I only want to feel better. I suppose you can't give me that, child," she moaned wearily. "Mother! I wish I could." "Well," she said, fretfully, after a short pause, "don't stand here looking at me; don't you know any thing?" I started bacl-cut to the heart: she presently resumed: "i should think your aunt would come, if she's coming at all." "So should I, mother." "Don't repeat my words so, Ruby; it isn't the way to do," she -said, irritated at my response. "I suppose you can't make yourself useful for once, and tell me how long it is since I wrote that letter a." "Oh I yes I can, mother; it was a week ago last Monday; it went in that afternoon's mail; so the postmaster said." I was glad to think I could render her this unimportant service: I looked eagerly at her for some signal of approba- tion. She gave none, however; on the contrary, she seemed vexed that she had forgotten the period ; she never relished ' being reminded-even in an unconscious way-of any infir- mity; and would have been much better pleased had I failed to remember the time, and left her therefore to recall it, and to exaggerate its length; but this I did not then know; RUIBA. --15 so I again timidly petitioned to be allowed to do some. thing. "Dear me! it seems to me if you really wanted to, you'd find some way quick enough," was her cold reply. "I do want to; but you won't tell me what," I said, des- perately. t"Yes, I suppose I'm an awful creature ; but you won't have occasion to find fault much longer." I was silent from self- upbraiding. "You see how your poor mother is failing," she went on, in a softened tone. " Memory is almost gone; Time indeed stands still with me; the hours seem days; the days seem weeks: I should have said it was a month ago that I wrote." "Then you would have said wrong, mother," I remarked, with delightful simplicity. i "I dare say you think so," she rejoined. ., I was puzzled at this remark. ( I make no doubt but that my aunt will come when she gets the letter," I ventured again. "Don't you, indeed .? "No," was my answer. "Your reasons for such remarkable credulity?" "' Why, isn't she your own sister, mother "I asked in surprise. She rolled her head to and fro on the pillow, eying me suspiciously. "You've got a deal to learn, Ruby; you don't know human nature as well as I. They're all alike, kith or kin and strangers; all selfish; when they have any axe to grind they're ready enough to be of service." "I suppose so," I said, doubtfully, " but do they grind axes .? My mother laughed ironically, and resumed, talking appa- rently to herself. "Now there's Hannah; I wrote to her page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 ERUBINA. first, and she never has answered it--much less come herself -I don't suppose she would take the trouble to come to my funeral; nor Rhoda either ; they are precisely alike. Well, if it wasn't for the children-- " During my whole life my mother had never talked to me so freely.. I liked the change and sought to prolong it; though nothing more seemed needful to be said on that sub- . ct. 6"Shall we go home with her, if she does come: that is, when you are stronger?" "Pshaw!" she ejaculated, impatiently. "There's little danger of her asking us, so don't go to putting nonsense into your head. When I get stronger-if I ever do--I shall find you a place somewhere: so think of that instead." I. did think of it.- In my ignoranbe I wondered if it might not mean a scaool. But that idea, common sense at once rejected.. "The place," clearly, must be some servant's work. Instead of feeling thankful for such provision, I could have wept at the bare suggestion. Some contrite thought moved my mother: she looked down on me sadly, and her voice lost its fretfulness. "Poor little girl! you haven't had a pleasant time lately, have you? I don't mean to be cross: but I cannot help it. I believe I should do better if I could live my life over again. I began wrong, you see, and it's so hard to change now: but I cannot go back if I would. No! that can never be, child." She raised herself-beat up the pillows slowly-seemed to be considering something,-and her face wore an half- ashamed expression;--then she sank back and said, deter- minedly, "I wonder if I am so near; get-the Bible, Ruby, and read that beautiful Psalm-you know it-about the valley of the shadow of death." I found and read it. "Am I not in the shadows? Oh I RUBINA. 17 most merciful One!" she murmured, turning wearily to the wall, " will thy staff support me? Oh! the waters are so cold and dark, and ny faith is but meagre." "Mother! what are you saying?"I waited a moment for her answer: then she was so still that I concluded she slept. In sheer want of something to do I began to rock the cradle. Hours elapsed thus. The fire-light faded to gray ashes: for fear of rousing my mother I had not renewed it. The lamp blinked ghostly at last, and slowly expired. Then the clock in the hall below solemnly swung out the hour of midnight. CHAPTER II. ALTHOUGH only ten years old, I watched nightly with my mother; catching a few hours' sleep towards morning, as I sat in my low chair, or on the floor by the cradle. It seemed natural and right that it should be thus. Mrs. Potter--our landlady--was a sharp, practical, though not unkindly woman; who looked in daily to inquire mechanically after the invalid. She never sacrificed her own interests in this solicitude. Knowing that we were unable to pay for a doctor's services, she carefully refrained from suggesting the need of one; for that would have appeared, in her eyes, a tacit admission of her own responsibility for the sums expended. Provided we scraped together the rent for our poor garret, she was satis- fied, and never troubled herself to inquire whether, ir this endeavor, daily food was sacrificed. She was tolerably civil- spoken, too, for a well-to-do landlady; and if she addressed my mother as "poor dear," and carried her bottle of pity page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 RUBINA. rather too offensively uncorked for one of my mother's tem- perament to like, I always set it down to her kindness of heart; my mother, to her ignorance. 'Vhat did I not suffer in those days-those lonely watch- ings? Some say, children soon outgrow sorrow. I know better. In those solitary vigils, with naught to break the dreadful silence; with those still spectral lineaments, starting white from the surrounding gloom; with a vague conscious- ness of some huge, impending evil, crouching by my side; not to be frightened away, nor cowed by resolute facings- I experienced pain-sharp and enduring as any a woman can suffer. They yet haunt me, with their nameless grip of ter- ror-at times a keen realization of an invisible peopled world enveloping me, and a shuddering dread lest the sable folds part, and my straining-yet unwilling--eyes catch a glimpse of its shadowy inmates. This evening, in the midst of the driving rain, was borne to my ears the faint rumble of wheels over the stony pave- ment. They drew iearer; they stopped. A moment after, the door-bell violently rang. The noise woke Annah, who began to cry. My mother also roused to a listening attitude: "Who can be coming so late?" she muttered. "Ruby, can't you still that child's noise ." she said, peevishy. It's worse than bedlam. Hush!" she added, as I lifted her from the cradle and commenced a pilgrimage around the room to soothe her. Hearingfootsteps in the hall below, I softly opened the door, stepped out on the narrow landing, and peered down the carpetless stairway. As I peeped through the rickety railings, I beheld a tall woman--very masculine in her proportions-toiling slowly up. She paused midway-- at every step she had exclaimed, somewhat in this fashion: "Goodness gracious me!" "Lord a massy!" "For all this RUBINA. 19 world!" "I never see the beat on't!"--"I believe this ere's a bee-line right straight to the garret," she said meditatively. "It needs an injine to run up and down these stairs: I should think it'd wear a body all out, a doin' their work up here, 'specially as there's no man to help along with the chores: Joel said I'd git tuckered out," she muttered, " a c6min' on sech an unsartin errant too; but sakes alive; ef I stand this, I'm good for the next pull, I guess ;" and she recommenced her journey. I felt too crushed in spirit to laugh; besides, I could only think she had lost her way-and I debated within myself the propriety of setting her right. She .gained the topmost step. "Let me see," she muttered musingly: she nodded her head slowly. I drew aside into the shadow and watched her curiously. "I calculate I've come up four pair o' stairs; I must have missed my reckonin', for Car'line never could a bin brought to this pinch, never! sech a proud sper- ited creetur' as she was too." No wonder her ascent was so laborious. She had dragged up with her an enormous wil- low basket, with leaves in its top tied down with green qual- ity; and a respectably sized antique valise, bulging with articles. These she set decisively down, while she lifted a corner of her blue bombazine dress, disclosing a gr4y quilted petticoat; from a pocket in it, she drew forth a stout pair of steel-bowed spectacles: very deliberately she polished the oval glasses, and adjusted them on her crooked nose--of course, I noted the details afterwards: her motions I could observe distinctly from my corner-at last she spied me out in it. "Here, you young one, walk up here, like a chicken to a dough-dish, and tell me ef Mrs. Brooks lives here!" she sharply ordered. I advanced. -"Are you my Aunt Rhoda, from Northfield f" was the answer she got. page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 RUBINA. "Sartain, sure; p'raps you'll have the. charity to help me up with my kit, and show me to your marm-I take it you b'long to Car'line,"-with a look of inquiry. I hastened forward, and stooped to lift the basket. "Oh," she inter- rupted, " you've got a young 'un, have you? Wall, I guess I can manage these 'ere then: you haint told me what your names be." I gave the desired information, and threw open the door to our room. "Them pesky cars hendered me so; I thought I never should git here," she said, briskly groping forward. "Massy! you're all in pitch darkness," she added, peering in. ( Yes! I'll have a light in a minute," I said. "You take the baby, aunt, and I'll run down for a candle.; our lamp went out ever so long ago." Down I went to Mrs. Potter's room, and--made fearfully bold by the emergency--borrowed a candle. She detained and questioned me about our visitor; then apparently satisfied in her own mind that she would not be a loser by an act of this nature, she handed me another. I lit one, and hastened back. My aunt scanned me closely as I received back Annah in my arms. "You ain't so skeery 'bout the dark, as our gals be; you wouldn't git them to set one minnit without a light, I promise you: wall, I s'pose ye have to make a vartue of n'cessity, don't you!" "A what, aunt?" "Oh! you haint a dreadful sight o'candles to burn, I'll be bound"-glancing around the cheerless room. "No, only these." "Humph! and them you got on my a'count. Wall, stick them up somewhere, and tell me how old this brat is." "' Fifteen months, aunt." "Don't aunt me, yit; how d'ye know I am your aunt V' she growled, removing her things. '. ' 6 ' - RUBINA. - 21 "You told me so," said I, simply, feeling very much dis- posed to heartily hate my new-found relative. "A likely idee. Where's your clothes-press?" " We havn't any," I returned shortly. "Wall, any cupboard will do; anywhere to dump these duds." X "You'll have to leave them on the chair," I said, dryly. Her look of dismayswas amusing to witness, but she arranged it silently on the seat. First, the valise; her heavy -blanket shawl went over it like a pall; a dove-colored shirred silk bonnet went on that; a pair of cinnamon-colored cotton gloves followed; then when a pair of serviceable yarn stockings were removed-I assisting in this process, taking firm hold of the heel and toe while, in her expressive words, she " yanked it off"--and her thick, leathern brogans care-, fully retied in "a double-bow knot," she stepped forth a very respectable looking farmer's wife. I had never set eyes on one before, but I knew her directly. She carried the very smell of the dairy about her; the milky, cheesy smell that the long subsequent ride could not efface. She now moved with brisk tread to the bed; I out by the door lis- tened curiously for their greeting. It was characteristic enough. "Wall, Cat'line, how are you? pickin up any yet?" in- quired my aunt. "I don't know, I didn't much expect you'd take the trouble to come," answered my mother feebly, as their two hands clasped, one browned with exposure, and hardened like flint with years of toil; the other, a fairy-like member, transparent as glass; wasted with sickness; colorless as the hue of death; the veins starting out like huge blue cords from its wasted fulness. '. page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] ;LZi . JU liN. . "You didn't, hey! Wall, you know I allers was a fool, Car'line, so when I got the word, I says to Joel, 'I s'pose shes rather spleeny 'bout it, but mabbe I'd better go down and see her,' and law! Joel he put right in too, and I didn't git no rest till I started." "I wrote long ago to Hannah and she never answered it," said my mother-humbly, for her. , Her sister smiled, and coughed. "She and I are two per- sons, I s'pose you know ; ef ou don't, you oughter. She allers was a selfish crittur, never cared a straw for nobody, nor nothin', 'cept her own old lazy sides. I ain't no ways sur. prised to hear any thing of her in that line," she finished stoutly. "' Oh, dear!" sighed my mother. "Be yQU put to it for breath much .?" inquired her sister. "Oh, no." A long pause succeeded. I hushed Annah to sleep, walking up and down the narrow room. My aunt suddenly turned on me: "Do you mean to tell me you set up all night, hey i" "No," I faltered, feeling guiltily conscious of telling a lie. "Wall, it's pretty nigh it, at any rate," she retorted. "She is all the nurse I have," answered my mother for me. " Humph!" she snorted disdainfully;- " a pretty nuss she is. I'll be bound she don't know tea from tansy." My mother laughed. 1"You're odd as ever, Rhoda." aIt's no laughing matter, let me tell you, Carbine: you'd a picked up long ago ef you'd been seen to a leetle. Here, child, you didn't tell me ef you knew how to make penny- r'yal tea, or saffern either. I mostly prefer saffern myself:." "No, ma'am," I answered, feeling still more guilty for my ignorafice of these mighty regenerators. "Wall, what's a miss worth without that knowledge, I trBINA. 23 should like to know?" she cried triumphantly. "I see it's well I brought my tools with nie. It's clear I should a gone a-beggin to find any here. Ive got oceans in that satchel yender; jest fetch it here, Ruby, and I'll show you in a twinklin' more 'arbs than you ever dreamed of. There! that's catnip-called so cause cats allers run for it when they're fitty-it's grand for stomach sickness; and that's thorougllh- wort, or bone-set, beats all the doctor's stuff in creation for cleansing out the system,%specially if one's humory. I'm dredful choice of it; 't don't grow very abundant in our parts, and ther's lots of it used. I alters git Polly Kitchum, who lives in the Notch,.to gather it for me; she's a master hand at it. Why, I wouldn't be without it for no consideration. I keep a bowl on't standing, the whole during time, on the butt'ry shelf, and jest take a swaller evry time I go by. This is spearmint, Ruby, and this is sage, good for one of 'them are pesky headaches such as the Lee fam'ly allers was troubled with, and allers uwil be I s'pose, for they're constitutional." (I wondered if she meant the "Lee family" or the "pesky headaches.") "What's in this bundle, aunt? it smells dreadfully." "Oh, that's jest what I've bin huntin' for: its yarrer !- grows everywhere; but it's proper good for 'most every thing. Sure cure, Itell 'em, when ev'rything else gives out. Iguess," she added musingly, "I'd better steep up a little, and give her a cup, and see ef 'twon't start her up a trifle. What doc- tor do you have, Ruby .5" "Not any, aunt: mother says she has no faith in them, and she thinks it a needless expense." 'Jest so I think," she returned, with satisfaction. "I don't b'lieve nothin' in none on 'em: now this ere'll fetch her along quicker'n a cart-load of their messes." page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 2TTBITA. 24 She untied the small roll of pungent weed. -Verily,' thought I, " if it tastes as bad as it smells, nothing willinduce mother to touch it., She is so particular. mother to t0U a t, I T'l- alwish'd acome My aunt resumed, with vivacity: I aly wish Id a come ...yj all , r....ed .th.;^ , h t skin and afore: I'd no idee she's so run down, nothin' but sin and bones, is she Wall, what can't be cured must be endured, mus'n't it I spet the letter got kinder overlooked down 't the office; then agin I didn't thik there's any hurry; but Joel says, ' Now, Rhody, don't put it off. Go down your- self and see how the land lays.' She glanced at the bed regretfully; " seems to me she's dreadful drowsy; does she have sech spells often ." "She sleeps most of the time," I answered. "( Wall, we must fetch her out o' that, short order; now you start up the fire, and git me a basin, and y Oh," said my mother, rousing suddenly, don t want ay tea, RhodaPut Ruby to bed. I wa0t tot wihyu ", Couldn't you force a leetle down now,. it and sweeten it?" persisted Aunt Rhoaa. "No, indeed!I feel better already: your coming has done me good." I approached the bed to say good-night. She turned her gaze on my face, where it rested long and earnestly. nvol- untarily I stooped. , Bend lower" she whispered. I dd so. She raised her lips feebly to mine; she stretched forth her .and to pat my heek fondly. Unusual the cares un - usual the words crowning it,--"My dear little daughter, usul the woris rowning", ed halfashamed of the -brief goodght Then she seemed half ashamed f the fond sentence, for when I would have lingeredlonger, she mored uneasily and said impatiently, "There, there, good- :.ghA sml"lum ber-oom" opened out of the one my mothe A small"lumber-room RUBINAA. 25. occupied, in which Mrs. PPotter kindly allowed my poor bed to stand. Its legitimate tenants--the rats-were a terror to me, inasmuch as their constant noises sometimes suggested the possibility of their taking position in my domain. For this reason it was rarely occupied. Now I went to it, forget- ful of my fears, in a maze of wonder at my mother's new outhreak of tenderness. How the words thrilled me; I repeated them to myself while undressing; sweet and smooth as honey they floweed, and they looked to me as but the harbingers of a plentiful future harvest. "Not in vain," thought I, " has been my quiet devotion, my unceasing care, during these weary months. It has unlocked the seal, which pent in too narrow a channel the clear, gushing waters." I was meditating in this dreamy fashion when my aunt came- in and placed Annah in my arms. She left a kind word also "Don't fret, child: I'll 'tend to matters and things now: go right straight to sleep." This good advice I suppose I followed after a time. J heard the sound of low talking through the thin, plaste less partition, but gradually it faded into indistinct mui- murs; then it sank into whispers as my ear closed to all sound, .and, with my arms twined closely around the baby form, the fresh, velvety lips pressed to my chepk, I slum- bered. * * * I awoke '-with a start-towards dawn from disturbing dreams of a driving, pitiless storm. Hail; - sleet, and clouds of snow beating my defenceless head, as, shorn of bonnet or cloak, with feet sorely benumbed by the intense cold, alone and unutterably weary,.I wandered in an-aimless search over an unknown wilderness. Wide barren wastes surrounded me. The wind moaned and shrieked among the dry, leafless trees. It rose, sobbing with the suppressed 2 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 BRUBINA* fury of the coming gale. Storm-spirits hurled by me, shriek ing. Invisible forces lifted me in their arms, and, helpless and frightened, I was borne upward. Anon, the vast void called space, claimed me for its sole inhabitant. Sound was no more. The power of speech was denied me. For the vision was only endless night. My limbs-shrunken with terror-essayed motion in vain. For crimes uncommitted- or at least unknown-my soul was doomed to eternal soli- tude. Not so. Motion-suddenly asserted-seized me. I was falling through the drear vacuity; whirling, as I plunged downward, with the speed of the revolutions of the planets; faster and faster as I neared the earth, which loomed in sight--measureless, boundless. Its dark surface arrested my flight; I awaited in terror the inevitable concussion. Was I awake, or dreaming? I was in my own little cot; Annah was still in my arms. The silence of night wrapped the room-its silence, but not its- gloom. No lamp or can- dle was burning,avet a tender radiance shone mild and clear. By my bedside sat iny mother, her gaze meeting mine smi- lingly. In former nights I had often waked to find her restlessly pacing the sleepless hours away; so this vision neither startled nor alarmed me, and I silently surveyed her. It was-the same, yet how transformed the image! She looked not wan and wasted, as I remembered her a few hours since, but well and happy. Happiness, full to overflowing, could alone have generated that smile, wreathing her lip,-tender, self-reproachful,-with which she watched me, while my tongue trembled for utterance. "Mother," I whispered softly, "how came you here? Does Aunt Rhoda know?" Still mute and smiling,-the vision (if such it was) rose. How, or whence, she vanished, I know' not. I had never JJ . * * ' B RUBNtA. 27 once taken mesfromh The doorhd otopened; As I lay, awed a little and wondering, a deep-tonedvice broke the solemn stillness. It was my aunt's voice in th * outer room, reverent]^ m7 aunts voice " the outer room, reverently uttering these words of holy resigna. tion-"The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away; blessed a, I be the name of the Lord." Then, after a pause, "Car'line ii wan s the youngiest of us all, and she's gone the fust. It'strou- ble'sdone it." t It'strou- Y No, answered another voice; Irecognized it as Mrs. Potter's. , It's the will of an overruling Providence. That's clear enough to my mind. Hertime had come;and we ought to be submissive. Perhaps she's been took from the evil to come. Aly aunt gave a heavy groan. Presently Mrs. Potter resumed: , Your sister was a proper nice woman but she's better off now." proper "Yes," assented my aunt. Not confident of having yet struck the right vein of consolatio n, M rs. Potter continued It's no use repining at our afflictions; it won't bring her back; besides its flying right square in the face of Scrip- ture. BIe you a professor, ma'am ." i- I hope so," responded my aunt, quickly, "I wouldn't give much for myself, ef I wasn't. My earthly course is niore'n half run, and 'twould be a burnin' shame and dis- grace, not to have my lamp trimmed and burning. I hope- I'don't b 'long to the foolish virgins; and there's no tellin' how soon the bridegroom'1 1 call for me." i is, to be sure, we've all got to come to it," regretfully stighed the landlady. "W can"t realize it, though, till it strikes home ; you kn ow that, Mrs. Martin, as well as I do. T here's a beautiful hymn somewhere-I don't know but it's in the Moravian collection ; and I don't know a s 'tis-but it's page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 RUBINA.- about, ' We'll lay our armor down.' I always feel kinder con- soled to let what will, happen, when I hear it sung in church, but the trouble is, it don't last long. It must be a great com- fort, Mrs. Martin, to reflect that your sister was a member." "Yes ;" absently responded my aunt; and a decent pause followed. Then the landlady said briskly, "Well, well, Mrs. Martin, 'twon't alter nothing to wait any longer. What shall it be? Mering, or muslin?" "I ra'ly don't know," said my aunt, thoughtfully. "I suppose I may as well tell you," said Mrs. Potter, feel. ing her way to a bargain, "that I've got plenty of book- muslin in the house; and as good book-muslin, too, as any one could wish to be laid out in. I keep it a purpose for such occasions. Them who keep a boarding-house, ma'am, don't never know when these things won't happen. This is a dy- ing world, you know," she snivelled pathetically. "Yes, that's true," interrupted my aunt. She was too sharp not to understand the woman thoroughly. "Well, now, Mrs. Maitin," sinking her voice impressive- ly, "I feel free to tell you, that I've had my shroud made, and packed away, ntgh upon ten years. When I go a journey I always take it along, for fear of accidents, you know. My mother did so before me; she pinned every thing up togeth- er in the sheet, and when her time did come, all I bad to do was to go and put my hand right on to 'em-; 'twas all ready; I could a got them in the dark." "You don't say?" observed my aunt, coolly. "Yes; -and there was my grand'ther too! Now what do ;: you think he did? the strangest thing! He went and got his grave-stones, and his wife's too; had them marked-all but the date, you know-got the foot-stones, and had the initials put on*" RUBINA. 29 i' "Mercy!" said Aunt Rhoda, " where did he keep 'em " "Oh! under the bed for a long spell; but he found that they was getting too dusty there, so he carried 'ern off to the graveyard, and set 'em up. He had picked out the place long before, where he wanted to lie, and he said he was determined to suit himself about the stones; he didn't want his heirs to quarrel over his bones. Poor man ;"--she sighed-" he didn't live long after it. Some kinder thought it was tempting Providence; getting ready so, to die; but law, f never dfd T don; ^g T ready so , to died but law, I never did. r don't think the Lonrll take us any sooner for being prudent. I don't believe in forerunners of death, either; do you, Mrs. Martin?" "No," said my aunt, solemnly. "The Bible says: ' For he cometh like a thief in the night ; I believe that." I "Wpll , 4"*'"enignt, I believe that." "Well, now," responded Mrs. Potter, , , 'll just run down and get that muslin; you can see if 'twill do, you know, and if it will, why, we can go right to work upon it; there's no need of callin, any oie else in, as I know of." I caught the sound of an openingdoor; then of feet de- scending the stairs. Soon reappearing, there ensued a gentle bustle. I am ashamed to record of my aunt, that she ob- jected to the price of the y aunt, "" she ob- ted to the pre of the muslin so strenuously, that an al- telation seemed pending; but she was finally overruled by the landlady s decisive arguments. I knew instinctively the meaning of these preparations. I had never in my life looked on death, but now, through every nerve of m y soul quivered the unresisted conviction: You are orphaned, and desolate . Oh0 ' Rea der, if you have ever lain tlus-in a darkened - chamb er---dar, i ndeed to you r eyes and heart-- wit h a loved form lying near to your w arm clasp , cold and speechless.; with the hum of voices over the work of robing that form ;* ' . .. page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 .UBINA. for the tomb, sounding fearfully distinct, and almost palsying sorrow, in spasms of indignation at their heartlessness; every rustle of the snowy robe sending over you chilly terrors; every clip of the scissors cutting your heart-strings, then in- deed I pity you: still warmer glows my pity if, to the suffi- cient bitterness of the present, Retrospection adds a sting. If memory pushes up from her charnel-house many oppor- tunities, by you slighted, of adding one comfort, diminish- ing one pang; if she continually tortures your ear, by sound- ing through it the sad refrain: Repentance now is of no avail; you can do these sw eet offices no longer; naught can benefit the dead. I was devoutly thankful when, at last, the voices ceased; when the broadening dawn imperatively told me to rise, and quit my room, even though it brought me face to face with this strange visitant; even though it added the torture of the funeral-another strangeness-and the succeeding long, sleepless night. CHAPTER III. SEVERAL days elapsed, filled to the brim with loneliness It is so hard to grow accustomed to miss the object of ouI daily love and care; so hard to stifle longing with vain re flections. What a desert Life looks to us henceforth I 1 vain we pierce the blanlkness for some oasis of precion hope,.to guide and comfort us. The scales of ignorant sell ishness lie too thickly on our eyes, for us to see that thler is a pathway; and that God sends other travellers besid ourselves, over the same sunless journey. I B . RUBINA. 31 I roused myself at last from the contemplation of my own desolation, to soothe Annah's grief.- She did not cry,' but she fretted constantly. This stimulated my womanly digni- ty; it throve wonderfiully. It seems unnatural, and ludi- crous now; to recall my efforts to assume maternal functions; then, it thrilled me with an earnestness, effectually preclu- ding mirth fi'om its beholders. Those quiet days to me were busy ones to my aunt. With the efficient promptness which characterized all her movements, she packed, and repacked, articles destined for moving; the few pieces of furniture were sent to certain auction-rooms in the vicinity, and thus disposed of; the landlady's bill ostentatiously called for, and settled; and a shabby suit of mourning hastily improvised for me,-" for the neighbors'll watch, as sharp's a brier"-my aunt ob- served in answer to Mrs. Potter's remark, that 1" she thought it a useless expense." The contents of the little brown hair trunk, thickly studded on its cover with my mother's ini- tials in brass nails, were thoroughly overhauled. It held a number of my father's clothes, which my aunt unceremoni- ously bundled together, averring, ("They'll do for carpetrags; they ain't fit for nothing else." She muttered also, sotto voce, "I'd like to strip up the wearer on 'em too; heartless, good-for-nothing wretch. I'd never a b'lieved it of Corny Brooks." Twilight was slowly deepening into a bright moonlit eve as we neared Northfield. The heavy stage lumbered up to the tavern. Several acquaintances were lounging on the outside " stoop," who came up cordially to shake her offered hand. She seemed glad to get home again; glancing at their faces, then around at the dusty street and the well- known dwellings lining it, with unmistakable satisfaction, page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 3-2 RUBINA. The worthy farmers seemed fully aware of the nature of my aunt's late journey, and by- a few curious glances they guessed the result. (It's astonishing what a shrewd faculty this sC guessing" becomes among the villagers. With its inquisi- torial edge-keen as a hatchet-it hews for its owners a way right into your household affairs; it adjudges your social, religious, political standing; inventories your wardrobe-as well as any mental, moral, or personal defects you possess, and naturally desire to keep secret. What one knows, all soon discover, and by the use-vigorously plied-of the same legitimate means.) One of these neighbors, whom my aunt called ' Uncle Jesse," offered to " harness up," and take us 1" down t'the Hook." Aunt Rhoda opposed, at first, a faint show of polite resistance. " 'Ta'nt no trouble at all," he returned, " my horse is hitched right under Deacon Brown's shed yender." "I can walk well enough yit," began Aunt Rhoda, tartly, when Uncle Jesse decisively interrupted her: ' Now, Mrs. Martin, I 'spose 'taint nothin' for you to foot it a mile or two arter ridin' all day; but this leetle chick can't stan' it no how. Can you, sissy? What's your name, leetle one?" He finished by kindly stroking my head. "Ruby, Sir," I answered, timidly. "Speak up, child; and don't be 'fraid of your shadder," sharply interposed my aunt. Uncle Jesse gave her a queer look; then responded to my answer, "Ruby, hey? a proper pretty one 'tis, too; and you're as nice a leetle gal as ever trod shoe-leather." "I can tell you one thing, Mr. Warner; you'd better not go to -puttin' notions into her head," retorted Aunt Rhoda, nodding at him most mysteriously. - . RUBINA. . 3 J"Tut, tut! praise don't never hurt nobody; I wish there was more of it in the world. Now you wait a bit, and I'll jerk up the old mare. I hav'nt used her much latterly, and she feels her oats, I tell you," and off Uncle Jesse trotted. We stood in the tavern porch during this brief colloquy, and there we waited until the mare appeared, reined in with i jthe utmost care by Uncle Jesse, whose sonorous. ' whoa's," and "there stiddy, stiddy now," woke expressive nods and 'winks from the other farmers. Indeed, I saw no signs of friskiness; on the contrary, she indulged her fat, nut-brown, sides in a very moderate trot, and meekly dropped her head on stopping. "This is a dredful likely child, Mrs. Martin," remarked another neighbor, lifting Annah " to heft her," " a two-year old, I reckon ." "No; only fifteen months," corrected my aunt. "You don't say; well, I never ;" and the whole group nodded emphatically at; Annah-I suppose for a sign of approbation. Uncle Jesse now gathered up the lines in his great brown hands, and turned the horse's head. "We'se a talkin 'bout you this blessed mornin'," said he, "and says sister Siny, says she, ' I guess the reason why' Mrs. Martin stays so, is that's she's goin' to nuss up Car'line and bring her hum with her; she's a good hand at it.' 'Yis,' says sister Crete, 'but there's no tellin': ifishe's foreordained to git well she will ; and if she's foreordained to die, why she will, and all Rhody Martin's nussin' won't alter nothin' -and it seems it's so." He paused, with a soothing cluck to the 'horse, which I tried in vain to interpret. "Where's Miss Charity now?" asked my aunt. "Oh, teachin', as usual: she's commenced a s'lect school 2* page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 RUBINA. now, down to Scrabbletown; don't see her only once a fort- nit. How does she take it i"-meaning me-his voice sank to a confidential whisper. "That's mor'n I kin make out jest yit," she answered. "I 'xpected to have a dredful fuss when she found it out'n the mornin', but she didn't take on none, nor nothin'g and I'm 'fraid she didn't feel it as she oughter.". ".Ye can't allers tell when folks sense it," he returned. "Some shows it one way, some anuther. Did Car'line go hard?" was his next inquiry, glancing at me cautiously. "No; she jest dropped off as easy as a baby goin' to sleep. I thought she was struck with death jest. as soon as I set eyes on her; I wa'n't 'xpecting to find her so low. She talked a consid'rable spell arter I got there, but she kep' breathin' shorter and shorter, and 'fore I rightly knew it she was gone." "Wall, that's somethin' to think on, ain't it?" said Mr. Warner, thoughtfully patting his knee. "Why, here we be, all safe and sound, and there's 'Mandy a sparkin' it in the front door: wall, wall, young folks will be young folks, you know, Mrs. Martin." Uncle Jesse brought us up in fine style before a low-roofed building, cozy, comfortable looking, and rather more tasteful than is wont for a farm-house. A piazza stretched along its southern side, over the framework of which clusters of wood- bine saucily swung their dark, glossy sprays, and delicate vines of ' morning glory' just showed here and there their shrivelled pink and blue bells. A large "yard" enveloped the mansion-thickly studded with dandelion and white clover blossoms. In front rose-bushes were planted, just bursting into bloom. A bed of pinks, none-so-prettys, four- o'-clocks, and star-of-Bethlehems occupied a conspicuous comer; patches of sweet-clover and southern-wood planted . RUBINA. 35 their fragrant feet at consistently short distances; an enor- mous snow-ball bush drooped by the well-curb. Lilac-trees also crowned each window front. From the narrow picket- crate which swung heavily open-owing to a huge stone, depending from a stout rope inside-a walk of uneven flags led to the green-painted open door. Two figures rose some- what hastily, the gentleman slyly removing a supporting arm from the waist-neither trim nor slender-of his 4om- panion. "Amandv,"called my aunt," come and take the baby;" and having dropped this burden into her outstretched arms, she promptly offered each a hand. The gentleman shook it as if unacquainted with the friendly ceremony, and his color rose painfully under Uncle Jesse's good-natured smile. "How are all your folks?" asked Aunt Rhoda. "As well as common," he responded, indifferently; he seemed intently occupied in kicking a caterpillar off the flag- stone. "Wall," said my aunt, wearily, " sech a tug as I've had, this last week. I declare, hum's hum, ef it's ever so humly, ain't it, Iry W But that unsympathetic gentleman had turned away after Amanda; my aunt gave me a meaning nod. "Hun'm," coughed our escort, regaining his seat with effort, I s'pect it's all signed, sealed, and delivered; ain't it Mrs. Martin?" While she exchanged last words with him, I turned to look after the lovers-neither of whom had spo- ken, or in any way noticed me. An ungainly pair, they looked to me. Ira, lank, lean, light-haired, and freckled. Amanda, fat, with hair of a redder tin ge, and eyes to match, just dashed with blue. She swung the disengaged arm by her side; she kicked her dress up behind in walking, in a page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] RUBINA. fashion nervous to beholders. No amiable look crossed her brow when she received into her arms the unwelcome addi- tion to the household. I felt the slight; I saw the look; and, child as I was, I resented it. My aunt interrupted my observations. "This way," she said, adding confidentially, as we went along, "Iry's a clever man, and'll be well off one. of these days. He's prudent as any one need ask for. He's steppin' up to 'Mandy, you see." Turning a corner of the house, we came suddenly upon the milking-yard. My aunt let down the bars, and we went in. Milking was not yet over. Aunt Rhoda went around, and patted the sleek heads of her favorites-a gentle twain, 'Bessy' and ' Mooley,' re- ceived her attentions with intelligent delight; lowing, and rubbing their sides lovingly against her extended hand. "They know me, the creeturs do, 'cause I'm their milker," she explained, as I stared around. My whole life had been pent up amid brick walls; my wonder at all I saw, if unex- pressed, was unbounded. "Well, Mark," as a fine lad came bounding from the barn to meet us. "Well, mother," he echoed, laughing. "Pshaw, Mark, don't make a fool of me," said his mother, as he sud- denly stooped and kissed her, with a mixture of merriment and earnestness that provoked me into a laugh. "So, ho! you've got fun in you, sis, it seems; how dare you laugh at me, you city manikin? I could make a dozen of you in size, Miss Betsy." "My name is not Betsy," I said, indignantly. He threw up his hands in affected horror. "Perverse, sacrilegious vretch! deny your Christian name I should think you'd be afraid a judgment would follow. Betsy's a good name, and a beautiful one. It belonged to your ancestors. Take, eat it, and be thankful." RUBINA. 37 "I don't like it," I faltered; believing him in earnest. "I don't see how you can help yourself,"-and he grave- ly watched my working features. "It's wicked to repudiate it, though by paying a good, round sum, we might get the Committee on changes, to alter it ;-ever heard of the Com- mittee?" I was silent from indignation. "Oh! don't tease the child," broke in his mother, sharply. ' You'll get her a cryin' in a minnit. What do you allers want to be a pickin' on some one for? I should think you might be in better busi- ness. Don't mind him,s"-she added, to me. "There's your Cousin Demis, down by the gate," pointing in the direction indicated. It appears the little romp, herself, saw us. A race was the consequence; a race destined to be luckless. She shook her thick fringe of hair over her eyes, and started one of the peaceable cows, at the outset; and on they came, the domes- tic cavalry and infantry together. "Halloa! Deie, I'll bet on the cow," shouted Mark to her. "And I'll bet on the gal," answered a voice from the barn-door. In her headlong course, not noticing, or heeding the fact that a figure was crossing the yard to the dairv, she brought up against that worthy, with an emphasis which precipitated' both to the ground, and sent the white foam flying high in the air. The empty pails flew away on the trampled grass; the cow lumbered on. "Hurrah!" cried Mark, "I've won the bet; for here comes the cow. Father, you've lost." A hearty laugh answered him. Mv good aunt looked on dismayed. "Did you ever?" she ejaculated. "Demis Martin, ain't you ashamed of yvour self? Ef you ain't, I am, for you." The culprit came slowly page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 RUBINA. up. "What a plight vou're in; just look at your pant'- lettes; you may bile' 'em, and bile 'em, and that's all the good 'twill do ; only turn 'em black. Grass stains never will come out o' bleached cloth." Demis looked heartily mortified, but she received her scolding meekly. "I declare for't there never was a woman so tried afore," despairingly added her mother. "Never mind," broke in Mark, laughing, 'practice makes perfect, you know. Lift your trotters a little higher next time, my dear, and say ginger and saleratus, over vigorously, and who knows but you may win, yet? Our little Betsy has bet heavily on your running," he added, soberly. I gave him an astonished glance. "Now, Mark, stop that," said his mother, severely. "Speak the truth if you can. You'd better go to work, ef you haint nothin' else on hand. Demis, come and shake hands with your cousin." "How do you do, Cousin Betsy?" she said, somewhat em- barrassed, and she offered-to kiss me, but I pushed her awayv roughly. Mark was full of suppressed fun., "My name is not Betsy," I cried, anglrily. "I won't stay here if you call me so." "I thought Mark called you so," she pacifically returned, with an indignant glance at her brother. "How could you? Marcus Martin." "It is Rubina," I returned, chokingly. "Mother called me Ruby--" "Don't be angry with me," said Demis, plaintively. "I never do any thing right; I'm always in hot water, mother says." She took my hand, and under her auspices, I en- tered the kitchen. We met Deborah, the " help," on the threshold, thoroughly drenched. She said not a word, but. darted sullenly severe glances at us, abashing me. somewhat, RUIBINA. 39 but which Demis relished hugely. "My sakes alive," she whispered, '" ain't old Deb mad though? I spilt two pails of milk, as clean as a whistle." Sitting down on the doorsill, she burst into convulsive laughter. I could not join in it, and she presently looked up in my face, "How tired you do look," she said kindly. You're as pale as a ghost. Now sit right down there, by the window, and let me take off your things." This she did. She placed a stool under my feet; she treated me, in short, like an invalid. Going off for the baby, she returned, tossing it merrily; then placing it in my lap, off she flitted to the pantry for milk with which to feed her. "I'll have supper ready in no time," she added to Debby, who muttered angrily, "You'd better, ef you know when you're well off."' I surveyed the kitchen--a long, low room, fashioned after the manner of country kitchens of those days. Great iron hooks fastened securely in the plaster above, supported parallel poles, on which hung fieshy-ironed garments of all shapes and sizes; a goodly array, telling-better than mere words-of the family numbers. Around the rooms on convenient nails, branches of asparagus hung; not for or- nament merely--though that too was considered-but as de- coy resting-places for troublesome flies, who were supposed to be not indifferent to these delicate green couches. Indeed, they buzzed furiously around the feathery sprays, and settled finally in little black colonies for a night's repose, Two per- pendicular wooden slabs, fastened at top and bottom with cross-pieces, thickly notched adown their sides, stood back to back with the fireplace. A few strings of quartered apples--the relics of winter stores-rested in these notches. A stove in front performed the drying process. No musty carpet covered the floor; that shone resplendent in a fresh page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 7 RUBIEA. coat of yellow paint. Such chairs I never before saw: tall, carved " fiddle-backed"-with seats of narrow strips of listing, thickly braided, forming a couch soft and yielding. On. the white-washed wall, in a narrow black-painted frame, hung the serene face of Thomas Jefferson. As companion picture to this, appeared a truthful vision of "The Prodigal Son returned to his Father." I could scarcely take my eyes from it. I thought this illustration of the beautiful parable most wonderful-the very seedy young man, in ragged broadcloth, long-tailed coat, of the true Continental type, with his bundle (containing, doubtless, a change of linen) tied up in a red kerchief, slung over his shoulder like a peddler's pack, rushing furiously toward his home in the dis-- tance-a substantial two-story house, with green blinds, through which peep the " invited guests," bidden before- hand to celebrate his return. His poor, old father,. with -long, white locks streaming in the wind, hastens with out- stretched arms to embrace him. His two sisters are also starting from the door, dressed becomingly in yellow frocks, with pink sashes. I fancied I could almost smell the "fatted calf" roasting away in the back kitchen. Then I fell to wondering why the artist had omitted the mother from this family reunion; unless, indeed, his undutiful conduct had long agto brought down her gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. , I ventured to mention this to my Cousin Demis. She stopped her work a moment-pondered, then merrily answered, that " she was probably washing the dishes, and did not know of his arrival." I liked the kitchen. Every one of its clean, homely details met my full childish appro- bation. Neither did a peep into " the buttery" diminish it. I caught glimpses of mingled rows of dark blue crockery, pies, and cakes, which Demis was swiftly transferring to . RUBINA. 41 the large square table. She spun to and fro like a top, with a cheery, buoyant motion, altogether new to me. Her clum- sily-made calico dress, could not disguise her graceful form. Where did she get that oval face, with its rich dark color? the crimson cheeks and the perfect mouth ; the jetty hair, and eyes large, soft, and mournfull? Where the pliant swiftness of motion; the slender shape; small feet and hands, which her sister lacked? Not from her mother, certainly. Occasion- ally she came to my side to playfully chuck Annah under the chin, or to give her a toss and a kiss. These meteoric flights were soon checked by her mother's voice issuing from an inner room with, "Flax right round now, Demis Martin, and see how- quick you can git the vittals on the table. The men-folks'll be in afore long." The invisible monitress now appeared; having prudently doffed her best array, and assumed in its stead a huge-flow- ered calico frock, and blue-checked apron-the latter gar- ment made in an odd fashion, with a high waist, and broad shoulder-straps. She came out rolling up her sleeves to her elbows, preparatory to an onset among the treasures of the dairy. Thither she briskly posted; and I heard her sharp, coarse voice shortly after, greeting the "men-folks" as she skimmed the milk, and set the curd for the morning's cheeses, and related her late adventures in " the city." A man now came in, whom Demis led up to me and introduced as her father. Uncle Joel was a tall, portly figurc--slightly obese-with a fresh, good-natured face, and la!ge, dark, dreamy eyes-the counterparts of) Demis's. He stooped a little with much labor, but he had not the usual shuffling gait of country people. I liked him at the first glance; so kindly beamed his eye as he took my hand, a hearty welcome quivering on his full, red lips. He did not page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 RUBINA. utter it. There was no need. "Actions speak louder than words." He lifted us both on his knee, and passed his rough hand very fondly over the baby's silky curls. Very musical the words which followed sounded to me, in his soft, silvery tones. "She's as pretty as a pictur'," he said, smi- ling at her; at which the little one cooed, and threw up her chubby hands to clutch his dark, curling hair. "I shouldn't blame her a bit for cryin', so many new faces 'bout; but she don't seem to have an idee on't, does she? I hope you will like to stay here, my dear," he added, kissing us both, and setting us down rather hastily, as Aunt Rhoda entered the room. Demis announced supper. Deborah placed the chairs, and marshalled the family to their places. She deserves a word of mention. She was fat,--not fair, and certainly not less than forty. (I ventured one day, long after, to ask her age, and was punished for my impudent silliness: she turned on me, snappishy retorting, "Most a hundered; and you're a sassy minx!") She had lived at my uncle's since Mark was born-seventeen years ago-and was, consequently, very much attached to all. She always offered advice on doubtful questions, and not unfrequently decided mooted cases. She was considered by them, and also considered herself, quite one of the family. This evening she appropriated the baby to her own lap, telling me " she was used to bringin' on 'em up, and I warn't;" pointing to the stalwart group surround- ing the table for illustration of this assertion. Little Natty, a blue-eyed, curly-haired rogue of four years, claimed most of her devotion; but they were evidently all the pride of her heart, and if you taxed her with partial fondness for one, she indignantly denied it. On all their short-comings she looked with lenient eyes, and treated them with alternations of parental authority and humble deference, curious to wit- ness; allowing none to blame or find fault with them-save herself-without sturdy vindication, often angry defence. She often exercised this unbestowed privilege, and rated them roundly, pouring out on some trivial fault the whole contents of her vial of wrath. They usually took this good- naturedly, as a piece of no unseemly interference. Then, after she had thus given her opinions an indignant airing, she always made haste to palliate their severity, by some especial act of kindness, which amply atoned for " hurting their feelings." No wonder they all liked her. She was an affectionate creature; and would cheerfully have laid down her own life, if, thereby, theirs could have been saved from any peril. She surveyed her infant charge this evening with a broad smile. "I don't see, for the life of me, what makes all the babies take to me so, such a humly, ugly old crittur; Dwight, if you're through, jest let me hev your cheer." Dwight was a sulky-looking boy of seven, rarely speaking, save when directly addressed, and even then replying by an affirmative nod, or negative shake of the head. He was always sending suspicious glances around the board to'detect a whisper or sneer levelled at him; if, peradventure, he saw a smile on a lip, he imagined himself the cause, sullenly re- pelling proof to the contrary. That first night he never looked at me. He rose at Deborah's request, somewhat re- sentfully; and swung away silently.. It was days before he ventured to be civil. But dear little Nat. I still see how he curled his tiny,' brown, bare feet into his chair, his eyes sparkling with fun; how his soft, brown curls flew, when abruptly released firom the coarse, ragged straw hat binding them down. His-chair was close to mine, and after a shy peep at my face-which I page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] AA44 RUBINA. as shyly returned-he seemed to feel that lie risked nothing by the venture, and cunningly slid one fat, warm palm into my own. After tea was over, the large family scattered in different directions. Amanda stole to the "keeping-room," with a basin of soap and water, and arranged her yellow tresses. She wearied herself out in endeavors to coax i" water-curls" around her thin temples. I was amused at her contortions of mouth and forehead during this operation. She certainly possessed one virtue-Patience; for the difficulties in her way were considerable. One lock was too large for her pur- pose; she divided it. It was now too thin; she added a few hairs, with frequent dippings -in the basin of water to render it ,more pliable. Then she soaped it, and rolled the stiff, dingy tress over one freckled forefinger, adroitly plas- tering it against the spot desired. It would not stay, but came tumbling down in a series of fantastic twists. -Again she twined it into one solid ring, and spatted it vehemently into place; and again it leapt back exultant. Mark saun- tered in, and watched her, with a roguish twinkle in his hazel eyes. "Oh! cut it off a few inches; it's too long," he sug- gested. She caught at this idea, eagerly. Clip-the tress fell to the floor. Alas! it was now stiffer, harsher-than before. "Humbu g! There's no curl in your hair, Amanda. That's the reason it won't go off," was Demis's ironical ex- clamation. "Let's'see you try, Miss?" scornfully retorted her sister. "To be sure." Demis let down her heavy tresses, dipped a lock in the water, rolled it up carelessly, and it fell in a graceful ringlet. MAark pulled it admiringly. Amanda gave a defiant sniff. "There's nothing like trying," encouragingly persisted RUBINA. Mark; " don't give up vet, the world was not made in a day, you know." "I know you're a hateful, disagreeable, ugly wretch," Amanda irefully retorted. "I've discovered the reason of her perseverance," imper- turbably resumed the family tease, "Ira adores curls, and especially likes " spit-curls; I heard him say so t'other day, -fact." Amanda turned suspiciously red at this announcement. "What in thunder are you blushing so confoundedly for?" he blurted out, looking innocent wonder. "Have I said any thing, girls, to call out all that madder tint? I wonder if that's what took Ira's heart by storm-? Such a lovely shade of red! just the color in the carpet here!--curls and blushes! Whew!" He finished with a long, low whistle. "You're the most provokin'est feller I ever see," angrily interrupted Amanda, catching up the basin and hastily dart- ing into the entry, just as her brother was resuming. "Poh! there's no fun in joking her; she flies all to pieces;" and Master Mark seated himself by the open win- dow, on the edge of the table, dropping his long legs outside. a Demie, you are better game-; you keep your temper. I don't know yet as to Betsy there; she is fiery, I rather think ; her eyes have a hard look to them, as if they might turn if you pushed them in their sockets. Come here and let me test it."' I declined soberly. He gave me a curious smile, and mockingly shook at me his fist. "Well, Demie, I must content myself with teazin'g you." She gave his flaxen tresses a vigorous pull: "Ah! what a sad contrast to mine." He twined his. arm fondly around her, "I vow you're a regular gypsy lassie, Demie; eyes page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " RUBINA. black as night, and tawny skin; my nut-brown maiden, I wish Dame Nature had bestowed like favors upon me. A man"- he erected himself proudly--" has no business with a milk-and-water face. Amanda and you should have looked alike, it's the natural duty of sisters; but you are so perverse, you know." "And so are you, Mark, or you would not persist in hanging your great feet there, after mother has repeatedly ordered you not to." "I believe she has expressed her mind on that point," he replied coolly. "And you'll sup sorrer ef you don't attend to what she says, now I tell ye," remarked Debby, putting her good- natured face into the room. "IHe is only making ready to go to singing-school when Olive comes along," said Demis archly, " and here she comes down the hill. Why, Mark, who is blushing now ." He laughed, sprang to the ground, and went off singing. From a side window I watched how deferentially he turned toward her, as her little head nodded emphasis to his wag- gish prattle. I thought she looked fair and sweet enough to turn any sober lover's head, much more the heart of my wild Cousin Mark. Her laugh rang out like a silver chime. Her form was that of a fairy. "He thinks all the world of her, and she of him," oracularly pronounced Demis, peeping over my shoulder at the happy pair, " and oh! there's. Ira coming for Amanda, and I don't believe she's ready." She darted away to summon her sister. Looking back now to that first night among new-found relatives, I can see that in those few hours there was revealed much of their real character. My impressions were subse- quently confirmed. Ten I only was conscious of being UBINA. 47 translated into an entirely new sphere. The deadly grip of home-sickness clutched me. I swallowed the starting tears, anAd tried--oh! so resolutely-to think of it as an old thing with me; as if these were faces, forms, I had long, long known. In vain. Busy life-eager, bustling, happy-filled those hearts around me. The placid content of minds, yet free from scourging cre and sorrow, cast its sheltering mantle over that peaceful roof. Having experienced both care and sorrow, I alone felt the scantiness of its covering. Though a welcome, genial and true, shone on every counte- nance for the strangers-ah, yes! that was the trouble-I felt as " a stranger in a strange land." * * * It appeared, a little later, that I was to share my two cousins' room. In a lowly '-linter" chamber, two beds occupied opposite cor- ners. Demis proffered her active services in bestowing the baby in one; she accomplished this most skilfully without awaking her.. We had a vigorous resistance from Deborah, who wanted her for a bedfellow. She insisted that she would keep me awake, but she herself was used to it. She's croupy too, I guiess, and ef she's to be took with a fit in the night 'what would you do?" I turned a deaf ear to her suggestions, and Demis laughed her bodings to scorn. Really, in spite of the s loping walls and low ceiling, the chamber looked not unpleasant. Perhaps Demises presence brightened it into comfort. She was a perfect ray of sun- shine. She unbraided my long hair, talking cheerily enough to dispel a host of intruding tyrants of home-sickness a My heart warmed to my bright, gay cousin, but I felt too dis- pirited to answer in the same vein, and I listened to her prattle in silence. It was no consolation either to reflect on the bitter, unwelcome truth, that I had really no home to sicken and long for I leftno one behind me to await my page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] -48 RUBINA. return, to comfort the present parting with thoughts of a future meeting. My brief past was a chapter forever closed Only a solitary grave in Greenwood beckoned my wandering fancy; but my thoughts returned to that grave as to a home, for it held the form, not yet dust, dearest to me; to cling passionately to the damp mould; to bestow upon it abun- dantly the fruition of tears ; to keep faithful watch over the humble headstone-shining out in the clear moonlight, so lonely and sad among the myriad stately monuments--to me the only dead among so many sleepers. What a great chasm had rent itself into my life in one short week? I vaguely wondered if I should always be so wretched, so miserable, as I felt now? Yes, I was sure of it. The answer came distinct, ready. It seemed as ifit must be morning before Amanda came up, but in answer to my inquiry she said peevishy, that it was only eleven o'clock. She dropped off to sleep as those do who have no cause to be wakeful; who see only brightness in prospect, and plenty of leisure in broad day- light in which to dream of it; when it is so much your own that you feel no haunting fear lest it elude your grasp or burst--an unsubstantial bubble-shrivelling in its destruction your -dearest hopes, purposes. Demnis sat up in bed a while, humming in a low, pure tone, a fragment of some old hymn. Then she pensively chanted quaint "Barbara Allen;" the dreary repetition at the end of each verse, echoed itself into a mournful, slumberous weight upon my ear. - At last she ceased altogether, and to all appearance slumbered. Sleep for me, was out of the question. My tired eyelids drooped mechanically, but, ere a moment closed, a nervousstart relifted them. I raised my head finally from the pillow, and examined the room. Very little was there in it, to repay my interest. A bureau and an old-fashioned chest of drawers, in dark wood, elab- orately carved. A chest painted red, and on its front an immense green flourish--some vine-or merely an artistic finish, I could not determine which. A coarse print, labelled "The Playful. Pets," hung on the unpapered, unwhitewashed wall. I looked long at it in the moonlight. It showed me a girl with very crimson cheeks, and unnatural curls, uplift- ing her pinafore swarming- with kittens. Then my eyes fell on the counterpane, also a picture, or rather a succession of uniform pictures, stamped on a light brown ground: of cur- tain calico. Blue lambs reclined under lighter blue foliage; a brook purled along over intensely magnified pebbles. There sat a fond shepherd and shepherdess, hand in hand, while a dog guarded the listless flocks. The sun, very low in the horizon, shone with'wonderful rays of white. I thought it a remarkable production. I lifted it, and looked at the one beneath. This ground was scarlet, with trees, and animals, and-yes; it was the garden of Eden, and there was Adam and Eve, fearlessly twining serpents around their arms, while a lion crouched beside them. When I looked up from my survey, I almost shrieked in terror; a white-robed figure stood close at my side. - "Hush," it whispered, " don't be firightened, Cousin Ru- by. You didn't hear me, you were so absorbed in that quilt, and no wonder. Debby says it's over a hundred years old. It was my grandmother's." I said nothing, "Now, my child," resumed my cousin, "why don't you go to sleep? It's very injurious keeping awake all night! Are you warm?"I should have laughed at any other time, at her comical assumption of maternal solicitude; -now I only looked wistfully up to her face, as she bent over me-a look which somehow made her beautiful dark eyes fill with tears. 3 - - ' page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 60 RUBINA. She murmured something unintelligible; she, crept by my side; she wound her arms tightly around me, kissing again and again my- cold lips, chafing in her warm palms my own icy ones. Her loving sympathy charmed away my grief. It opened, with noiseless key, the hitherto pent-up floodgates of affection. The barren channels, unused so long, flowed free and full at last. No scanty measure filled it. A freshet threatened to overwhelm it. The rushing tide met an in- coming one, as fervent: united, they formed a deep of love-- measureless, soundless. From that night we were to each other more than sisters. CHAPTER IV. OuT into the Future rolled Time's chariot wheels. Days sad, solitary, busy, happy; according to our changeful mood, wove themselves into uneventful weeks; these, in their turn, craving fellowship, made haste to join themselves unto months as monotonous. A year slipped from the calendar ere we were aware. The sudden change-from a vast, roar- ing whirlpool of Life; a very Babylon of sound; a ceaseless ebb and flow of humanity's tide; when, though not one of the outside throng yet in its very midst; gathering moment- ly an unobservant consciousness of its myriad busy forces, to a Sabbath-like quietude, a perpetual, holy calm-as though I had left a world's day, and entered upon its night of rest-- bred a brief feeling of lonely dissatisfaction, which Hshortly exchanged for pleasurable content. :- ." Northfield Farms" was an obscure, uninteresting town, deserving no especial mention. There are many such towns , RUBINA. 51 scattered at intervals along the fertile valley's slope-for it is fertile, green, and charming-many of them dignified by names quaint and romantic; many also are the sweet, sig nificant designations-of natives of the forest; thus simply perpetuating, among the hardy sons of our grim Puritan sires, these solitary vestiges of a poetry and a language long since passed away. It was, as its name indicates, a collec- tion of farms extending over a wide area. The village prop- er, was "The Centre;" yet radiating from this were groups of lesser colonies of more recent planting, distinguished-as is commonly the case in New England--by various charac- teristic sobriquets. "The Farms" contained accordingly, my uncle's, and a few neighboring estates. To the west, loomed ," The Facto- ries." Here, a swift, rushing mountain stream, dignified with the name of "The River," added its quota to aid hu- man subsistence, by turning the wheels of numerous mills along its banks. This was the thriving part of the popula- tion. Here were millsofnearly every description. Woollen, cotton, and grist mills; mills for maing warps, batting; calico print-works, and a paper-mill, of every degree of outward show, from the rickety tenement of decaying, paint- less wood-quaking fearfully with the constant jar of its ma- chinery; waking ominous shakes of the sagacious farmers' heads, and long speeches in the village Lyceum, regarding its durability, and the safety of its operatives-to the firmly planted structure of brick, and massive erections of quarry marble, There were besides, , East Northfield," and scores of minor designations, originating in odd seasons of mirthfulness. "The Hook," "Scrabble Row," and "Thunder," among these, enjoyed a proportionate degree of uncertain celebrity. page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 RUBINA. Prosaic enough, these colonies were, in detail. Old fash- ioned 'simplicity marked them for its own. The same som- bre characteristics also tinged the inhabitants with a kind of antediluvian aspect in manner and dress. It was as though the sturdy independence of the surrounding scenery threw around them its quiet reflection. Born, suckled, reared in the cold, dark shadow of these grim, rocky ledges of un- disputed antiquity; the grand old mountains fostered cor- responding elements in their characters; and hardy endurance, stubborn tenacity of will, immovable purpose, stalked forth with resolute front at every turn in these secluded hamlets. I liked well the uncompromising hills, gloomily frowning from the dread depths of their rock-ribbed precipices. I liked the pastoral beauty of the vale below. Fields of wav- ing grain-dancing lullabies to passing breezes-encircled it. Fertile meadow uplands-green, soft, and daisy-starred- dotted with kine, lowing mournfully as sunset chimes its vesper- bells; .frisky with untamed colts, proudly unconscious that hal- ter and bridle-rein await them---upheaved in gentle billows of verdure, toward the distant mountains. In the haze of even- ing, these latter take on shapes mystical and dreamy. Its kindly robe screens all startling deformities. Dreamily leaning against the heavens, its own azure hue envelops them; their summits seem to pierce triumphantly its vaulted dome, and sharp, rough outlines melt into mist and space. I liked to watch the gradual paling of the vivid sunset fires;, crimson, scarlet, gold, nestling for a night's repose in the arms of pale purple and unromantic gray; and the moon, as she cautiously lifted her bright edges above the eastern mountain-tops, then-suddenly growing confident- boldly displayed her whole, laughing visage, and serenely ventured on her midnight march. I should say "we," for Mark or Demis always shared my RUBINA. 53 o rambles. At this hour we two marched homeward-specu- lating, as we trudged along, on our probable reception. We usually got a cool one. My aunt neither liked or approved of our excursions. She thought it a grievous waste of -time and strength; an unprofitable investment, returned to us in the shape of damaged clothing, and souls unfitted for prac- tical work. In our large household was always a dreary abundance of this commodity; house-work that never was- never could be finished; a monotonous daily round of duties-comprised in none so .fully, as in a New England farmer's family; for on none, save Pilgrim soil, are so fully inculcated the stern necessities of labor, that will admit of no repose. Every thing must be finished " straight to the mark." There must never occur a lapse of self-indulgent revery; reading is not tolerated, save on Sundays, when the equally strict religious belief renders work a crime, and eschews all literature which can possibly be regarded as secular. So the days, months, and years roll on; cooking, cleansing, ironing, mending, mark and stamp each, until distaste and disgust are their invariable accompaniments. Progressive development of mind is a myth; freedom of thought and action wilts lifeless as, sternly dominant, rises the spectre, saying, "This must be done; that must be attended to at' once; clothes must be made, rents repaired." Besides, my aunt held to the, thrifty notion that it was best to keep ahead of- actual wants, and store in chest and cupboard garments for future need. Boys reared in such a home often grow to receive wo- man's constant ministrations'as their constitutional right; they laugh and look amazed should you suggest otherwise. They amass manhood's full stature-strong, ruddy, vigor- ous-having worked faithfully for their sires until, "of age," a desire of independence seizes them-they nur page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 - UBINA. ture the wish for a home of their own e If attained-do. you think it a modest place, fully cultivated, proudly paid for, and joyfully taken possession of by the twain? (Of course a wife is necessary for a share of the labor.) Noth- ing less than a hundred acres will suffice; on which dreary patches of waste lafid are to be improved, and not an acre paid -for in money. This is the meaning of the unceasing toil--the discharge of the homestead debt. Haply if either live to see it accomplished. Ere that time arrives, youth-, the season of improvement.-has flown; age chills the facul- ties; they are ripe for the tomb,. Aunt Rhoda was styled by the neighbors "a dreadful am- bitious woman," and many prophecies floated to her ears that she would "break down some day, and hev to give up." Still robust and vigorous, she indignantly scouted the idea, and bustled from garret to cellar on mysterious errands, whose results were fruitless. She inherited (from the "Purdys; her mother's folks," she would say, proudly) a bone and muscle bred abhorrence of any thing in any shape approaching laziness. Lounging about the room with no specific object, was pronounced "so shiftless." Trifles, run- ning counter to her busy mood, violently irritated her. She went about the morning offices as though a treat were in store-cooking homely cakes and bread with a relishing zeal, which would have flavored the most intricate culinary mysteries. Then, her step had such a way of saying, "Get out of the way; I am coming;" firm, unswerving, with a rollicking motion of the hips, and a shuffle of her "'calf- skin ties," decidedly unpoetical, and destitute of grace. Woe to grimalkin, or puppy, who inadvertently got in her way at such times. If a "shoo" sufficed not to clear the track-whiz! they went flying across the room, in obedi- RUBINA. 55 ence to a touch of her vigorous heel-tap. Equally luckless the wight who preferred a request, or communicated a piece of news. The request was certain of denial: the intelli- gence turned sour, and was spitefully thrown back into his ears, with a few caustic remarks about tale-bearing and gossip. The whole household respected her moods. Her children feared, rather than loved her; and I also, -in time, learned to choose the appropriate seasons for approaching her; watch- ing anxiously that stolid countenance, as a mariner studies- the changeful skies for winds propitious; for clouds, dark, restless, sullen--swift and sure portents of storms. She was a zealous worshipper at the old Baptist "meetin'-house." Rain, hail, or snow never wooed her to a warm fireside,. on the occasion of the weekly services. Duty was the god she worshipped : she awarded it the guest-chamber in her heart. Love, charity, and their caressing graces were silently shown an obscure corner. Her very glance was a terror -to evil- doers; with eager edge it searched the countenance, detect- ing each sign of guilt, and instinctively repelling propitiatory confidence. Let me do her strict justice. Though her virtues were of a harsher tint than was altogether pleasing, yet they 'were virtues, all the same. She was impartial in her treatment, on the whole, though chance occasions in- dicated a preference for her eldest son and daughter. Hers was a nature which could not be softened into grace and beauty by childish caresses-r-by material prosperity. The first she instinctively scorned and repelled; the latter only made the angular lines more rigid, with suspicions of a speedily approaching downfall. Debby, in private, declared her " dreadful conceity, and allers a borrowin' sorrer;" but she regarded her with awe, nevertheless, and zealously endeavored-to please her. , page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 KJRUBINA, She punished me, if in her opinion I deserved it, exactly as she did her own brood; and such punishments, once re- solved on, could never be averted or delayed one hour by penitent entreaties. She wielded the rod, inexorable as fate; stern and awful her countenance looked. She would have made a step-mother after the prevailing opinion of such second-hand dames. Strictly, justice would have been ad- ministered; rigidly, order would have been maintained; and turbulent riot and anarchy would have fled affrighted and appalled at the sound of her advancing footsteps. CHAPTER V. - FROM one of these rambles we came home late-as usual. In our absence the kitchen had received a new occupant. A middle-aged lady-strange to me-sat by the three-legged light-stand, busily sewing. She impressed me, though in what way I could not tell, for her appearance was not extra- ordinary. She wore a black and white calico dress, -a long, narrow, black alpaca apron, trimmed with gimp, decorated with ample three-cornered pockets; from these she drew strips of gayly-figured chintz which she sewed together. She was evidently in mourning. The sight of black garments always distressed me: to brush them with my hand gave me a creep- ing sensation, something akin to placing a finger on a cold, dead face ; suggesting to my mind their near kinship to the shroud and the pall. Such symbols of woe then I shunned. But this image attracted, instead of repelling. Her pale yellow hair was pushed back from her forehead; around it was wound-several times-a long strip of narrow black vel- t 4J ' -RUBINA. 57 1: vet, tied in a bow on one side. It was a pleasant, pale face, wrinkled a little; age, or care, had tracked a few footmarks on it, but they could not have been called disfiguring. The eyes were large, full,--in color a kindly blue. The brow rose above them high and prominent-; a self-asserting brow; causality and memory unusually developed. A phrenologist would say at once that it was a strong, steady, reflective brow; a logical, patient thinker; persistent in argument, unyielding in debate. So much for her brief photograph. 'She looked up pleasantly as the door opened, transferred her work to her left hand, and held out her right, which Demis caught and shook heartily. "Why, Miss Charity, when did you come?" said she in surprise. "Ef you'd a staid to hum, you'd a seen," very grimly in- terposed her mother, looking with great disfavor at Demis, and hastily scanning her circumference to discover probable rents. Demis-noting this-saucily swung herself in front of her mother, confident, for once, in being able to endure the scrutiny. "You have come to begin school, I reckon?" was her cool address to the stranger. "Yes! I hope you are glad," said Miss Charity; "you have had a long play-spell; all play and no work makes Jack a mere 'toy, you know." There was a quaint tremble in Miss Charity's voice, as if -from emotion or weakness, which made one's voice soften sympathetically. I have observed it since in none but very aged people. Demis made a grimace. "I dont know about the glad; I suppose I must grin and bear it though." "Demis Martin!" severely said her mother, eying her as if she had broken the whole string of the ten commandment 3* page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 RUBINA. beads. Demis pursued placidly, shrinking away a little from her mother, "Did you have a good school in Scrabbletown?" "Pretty fair; there were some hard cases to manage, but, on the whole, nothing to speak of. Children will be chil- dren, you know," she added apologetically, turning to my aunt. That worthy compressed her thin lips still more decidedly. She gave back one brisk nod, as if to say, "I know all about the class, Miss Charity, more than you can ever tell me," and her flying knitting-needles kept time to her sharp, restless glances. Ah!" exclaimed Demis, pouncing upon the "school- marm's" work, "you are making more hussys. Those are for the last day, Ruby; perhaps you'll get one if you behave yourself; those pink and green ones are the prettiest." She chattered volubly. Miss Charity laughed softly. "Do you really give them away?"I ventured to ask, shyly turning them over for inspection ; cunning little pockets filled one side; some were finished, rolled neatly, and tied with bits of narrow satin ribbon. "To my best little girls," she answered primly; "they are very handy to keep thread and needles in. I dare say you will get one," she finished, with prophetic kindness. I was far from feeling sure of it; they looked like miracu- lous achievements; my eyes gleamed with covetousness, I am sure. To pass it off, I inquired, "And what do you give to the boys?" "Oh!" interrupted Demis, kindling, "you should see. The prettiest little butterflies, and birds of all sizes, robin redbreasts, and blue jays, and oh!--lots of things. You paint as well as Mark does, Miss Charity," she finished eagerly, intending a compliment. Aunt Rhoda's face gathered an additional frown, but she RUBINA. 59 restrained herself. Deborah, who sat in one corner darning hose, her knees tightly placed together and an iron candle- stick planted thereon, which threatened every instant to topple over, and which she steadied with frequent nervous jerks and much dripping of tallow, looked up hastily at , Demis, took off her glasses, rubbed them with the toe of a stocking, replaced them on her short thick nose, and-pur- sued her work.- Poor )Demis looked bewildered; she seemed to have struck the wrong chord all around, for the school- mistress turned her face to the wall and wiped away fast dropping tears. Obeying a natural impulse, Demis went up and put her arm timidly around her neck, "I am sorry," she began softly. "Wall, then, set down! do. You heave round so," returned- her mother, shortly. Demis dropped into the nearest chair as if she had been shot. As if it had not taken thorough enough effect, her mother added another ball: "You're so heedless; allers hurtin' somebody's feelin's, and doin' what you hadn't oughter do. I wonder ef I ever shall break you of't." If Demis was quelled before-now she looked positively blue. She dared not speak. "No, no. It-was not what she said," the schoolmistress's voice quivered out, in eager deprecation. "I was only think-* ing that sister Submit used to paint them- for me, and now I must do it alone." "Yis! poor Summit is gone;" dolefully sighed my aunt, "but we shouldn't wish her back ag'in in this troublous world: jest think how she suffered: besides, you've others left." She knit on more vigorously for giving birth to this element of consolation. "I know it," was the meek answer. "I do not repine, and we know that it is well with her. But her place in the page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 BRUBINA. old homestead is empty, and whenever I think of her dresses hanging just as she left them, and her Bible with her favorite passages marked, and the vacant seat at the table, and know that she is gone forever, that we never, never shall-" She gathered up her work hurriedly, and left the room. '"I do wish, Demis, that you could -learn to act like other folks; seems to me you're old enough, ef you're ever goin' to be," commenced Aunt Rhoda, coldly. I stooped to Deborah. "Where is NMark?" "Up-stairs I 'spose." She whispered, "L Don't say nothin' 'bout his paintin' business afore Mrs.. Martin. She's terrible sot ag'inst it, you see. If you do there'll be war in the wigwam. Massy to me! how she does let in 'pon poor Demis!" "Yis," Aunt Rhoda was saying, in a loud, hard tone, "I've about gin up malcin' any thing on you. I do my best, but I can't beat nothin' inter you. You're gitten too old to whip all the time, and you oughter be 'shamed to be spoke to so much. It seems strange to me. Inever was so. I'm sure I don't know who you take after, and for my part-"I lost the rest as I stole softly from the room. In Mark's room I found Annah, gravely watching him as he stooped low over some--writing, I thought. He started up hastily and drew a newspaper over it. Then, to cover his embarrassment, he lifted Annah to his knee and teased her unmercifully, until Demis coming in a half-hour later plucked her from her uneasy elevation, and indignantly remonstrated. "Demie, how you do assume control over my actions; but I'll say nothing more now; you look as if you had been receiving a lecture." "What are you doing up here?" she returned, evasively. When questioned, Mark rarely refused a true answer. He RUBINA. l61 drew out the hidden drawing, surveying it with a heavy look of dissatisfaction. "Tell me what ails it! I tried to sketch the glories of the new-born day-: Greybaul lifting its proud dome to the western skies; and the lustrous clouds, which rock over, but dare not stoop to cradle it. -It baffles me, after all my efforts. It is so weak, so characterless, beside the grand original. I should make a better copy than this, else none at all." He swept the paper impatiently away. "The truth is, I want masters," he added, dejectedly. "Give it up, Mark!" pleaded his sister, with a quick, anxious glance at his bright, earnest face. 1"You may as well, first as last; for mother says it's all humbug. You'll never amount to any thing untilyou do." He laughed bitterly. "I do not see the matter with her eyes." "She just now said that you would never make a living," said Demis; " she told me to tell you her words." "Ah! the dollars and cents are paramount to all else. A living," he echoed, commencing angrily to pace the room. "Art is too glorious for such mean calculations. I would not debase it to such a level if I could." He returned a defiant stare to Demis's mournful gaze. She thought him, his chivalrous assertion, his thoughtlessness for the morrow's wants. sure to come--mere visionary babbling. He re- sumed-"And it cannot be bought and sold. It is- a coy mistress, hard to please, rewarding constant exertion with- at the best-very uncertain favors: yet the mere touch of her hand, the merest smile from her eyes, how delightful! As if-;-he went on rapidly -painting God's immortal limn- ings of earth, sea, and sky; reproducing, though in the humblest form, shadows, on which the eye may linger with pleasure and profit, be not immeasurably superior to the page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 RUBINA. paltry monotony of doling out snuff and tobacco to the meddlesome old maids of the village, -even if one starve in the former, and wax vulgarly fat in worldly store in the latter, employment. What is your opinion, Madame Rubina?"- he faced me so suddenly, and with such a martial air, that I laughed. -"Speak!" he peremptorily ordered. "No driv- elling, half-way thoughts either. Shall I be a 'storekeeper' and dutifully go into partnership with Ira Pierce, as my father wishes? a Baptist elder (a pretty one I should make) shouting out close-communion doctrine and infant damnation, together with a thorough cold bath as the price of admission to the fellowship of saints, according to my respected mother's programme? or a poor devil of an artist-minus every earthly possession, save the shadowy hope of one day achieving that which will bring them all to my feet-the alluring prospect of Fame, to which my own headstrong in- clination incessantly points the wavy "He did not pause for my answer, but went on impetuously : ' Gods, what a fool's business this life is! what are our inclinations given us for, if we must never use them? What good does our own will do us if we are forever to hammer and mould it to fit others' wills? Why isn't my thought to be obeyed, my purpose to be consulted, as well as those of one whom by a chance I call-my father-mother8" "Our inclinations are for us-to use. If I were you I should paint;" came my prompt answer, as he paused breathless. "Good; here's a monitress after my own heart. Faith, such sensible advice should be scrupulously followed." His brow relaxed its form; his eye beamed on me a kindlier look than it had ever yet worn. "Because it's your own advice to yourself. If I had said, RUBINA. 63 Mark, you are an ignorant dreamer, or shallow reasoner, you would have thrust me in anger from the room." I had much better have said nothing just then; he was tot ex- cited to reason as to motives. It was impossible to convince him that a truthful, if friendly, opinion had swayed me. He turned his back to me, and was silent-but not for long. "Is that why you give me such counsel? because it suits with mine? Truly, my wrath is formidable." "I do not fear it, or you, or any one living," I retorted, nettled at his injustice. He did not heed me: though sunny- tempered usually, at times he could be most cruel; his mother's strong temper now came uppermost; his laughing eye gave a gleam-cold as ice, rigid as stone. "Away with such an opinion; away with your puny yellow face; what are you to me? or I to you? Let us each work out our own salvation." He snapped his fingers in my face most insolently. Demis interposed in season to prevent a quarrel. "Bahl you are too enthusiastic by half. Ruby talks just so about Fame, and all that rubbish; for my part I don't believe in it. If there is any such thing, rest assured that it will never come to the Martin family. Come, Ruby; quick, quick; or we shall never get out of the room alive," she cried, opening the door hastily, as Mark came slowly toward her, his eyes like flint, and his face pale with anger. She re- opened to thrust her head inside, with a provoking laugh, and say, ' Good-night, dear! don't lose your senses before morn- ing, and fancy yourself one of the old masters; it will be such a hideous disappointment when you wake to the reality." A pang of sorrow shot through me, as we closed the latch on him, and that more mighty self, his earnest dreams: born but to die, is written on the best of them. t . . page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] - 64 RUBINA. CHAPTER VI. Miss CHARITY ruled her pupils with absolute sway. She taught thoroughly. In the crowded school-room sounded a perpetual hum of voices. She especially affected the young; exercising over them an almost maternal care.. In one corner was spread a few blankets, with pillows, for the use of the juveniles when too tired or sleepy to remain quiet. They were promptly transferred to this couch, at the first symp- toms of restlessness; and there always was a row of heads on the pillows-limbs diverging therefrom, necessitating a frequent- application of Miss Warner's method, of kicking them gently into order. Around them ranged the noisy classes: " bounding the States," or repeating, in powerful sing-song concert, that immortal stumbling-block to young minds-" the multiplication table;" keeping perfect time to the rising and falling of Miss Charity's willow wand, which not unfrequently swerved from its legitimate direction, to course slyly toward some dodging delinquent from duty. Her mode of instruction was peculiarly unique; consisting mainly of useful lessons from a book of her own arranging, though "Colborne" and good old "Peter Parley" were also her stanch allies. The road to learning is not essentially an easy one to travel. Still less delightful the unthankful task of turning back from the hard-won heights, to cheer on the laggard; to infuse life into the inane-the almost hope- less dolt. Miss Charity was an able general. She pro- claimed war against sloth. She opposed a pale, firm resist- ance to the lowly wayside flowers, blossoming here and there over the stony path. She tolerated no turning aside RUBINA. :65 from the plain duty of the school-room. This was--in her expressive phrase--" storing your minds with useful ]nowl- edge." Accordingly, the rosy-cheeked apples, which little Bessie Cole brought in her blue gingham pocket, thinking to munch slyly while conning her lesson, were, after one tantalizing bite, promptly singled out by the preceptress's keen eye, and transferred to the interior of the red desk. Up would fly the cover, a moment later, to admit a round handful of chestnuts, the abstraction of Eleil Pierce's pocket, while she looked with dismay at the pile of dismantled shells already littering the clean, white floor. Oh! the treasures that inexorable cover revealed to peep- ing eyes, when momently uplifted! Jew's-harps lying, twang- less, beside peaceable fish-hooks, destined never to be baited; huge balls, compiled from strips of rubber over-shoes, and yarn from ravelled stockings; bunches of stout twine, which often returned to their former masters in a shape not wholly agreeable; drops of reddish spruce-gum, from the tiny mouth-piece, which Demis had to stand and deliver, to the unmanageable one belonging to stout Robert Jones; popped corn; bits of slate-pencils; smooth, white pebbles; frag- ments of chalk; gay-ringed allies, given up with pathetic sobs. lIt was rather mysterious, what became of the fruit and nuts. Day after day, month after month, the uneatable articles remained under cover, with constantly increasing additions, while their ripe, juicy neighbors disappeared from the fold in the ratio of the fresh arrivals. Miss Warner's crowning glory was the annual examina- tion, when-the parents of her charges being present-she displayed to their astonished vision such an orderly array of jackets and pinafores as seldom dawned on Northfield; when, prompt to an intelligent nod or wink, up rose, npise- page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " RUBINA. lessly, the appropriate class, volubly reciting their lesson. Admiring whispers greeted "The History of the Bible," successfully recited; closing with a "Hymn," repeated in concert, and the "Ten Commandments." Then, "The Sea- sons," in like manner; "The Senses," and "Punctuation." What trembling lips commenced the long list of "Abbrevia- tions?"--learned with many flutterings of heart-lest, after all our anxious labor, the memory hold insecure tenure of the property committed to its care, and that woful happen- ing "to miss" occur. Each countenance involuntarily brightened when success safely bridged this doubt, and the murmuring plaudits of the spectators swept away all mis- givings for the grand, poetical close. Poor Phebe's mishap with the blackberries was pathetically related by Demis: to my lot fell the soothing answer. Another propounded "The Golden Rule." One luckless wight-after a bewilder- ing obeisance-with outstretched hand and frightened eyes, was safely through ten verses of "Who made the Stars?" when his star of memory suddenly set, and confusion over- whelmed the young orator. The most notorious truant in town dutifully recited, "Early to School without Delay ;" and little Johnny Tucker glibly brought up the rear with-- "See me--I am a little boy, who goes to infant school; and though I am but four years old, I'll prove I am no fool." I heartily hope that he is proving it now, out in the world's school of manhood, unless the great seal of silence has been pressed on his lips, closing forever his earthly tuition. Then, the presents were speedily distributed; the aforesaid "house- wives" to the girls, the butterflies and birds to the boys. The silver medal, with the blue ribbon, which throughout the year had paid nightly pilgrimages to each pupil's home- the reward for approved conduct during the day, was now RUBINA. 67 suspended around the neck of Avis Pierce, a gift for good behavior. She was reserved and melancholy in tempera- ment, so she bore her honors, without betraying a single flutter of pride. Indeed, she looked as if she would unhesi- tatingly barter them-together with her naturally fine talents-for a meagre portion of the other's gay assurance. r I have known her to combat with her overpowering bashful- ness until her eyes glowed with a fierce light, wholly un- natural. She hated herself-and you for noticing it. At times, she seemed to loathe everything human, and, finally, grinding her teeth, she would mutter: "If I could only get away from it, and I will some day. I'll live alone." Then, the reaction, with tears silently falling for hours. When questioned she answered coldly. Nothing but real interest -pressed anxiously-would move the stream of sluggish confidence; then, with averted head, she would mutter, as if wholly ashamed of the weakness which led her to-confide, and of the paltry nature of the confession : ( I am so miser- able; I wish I was dead." Yet, her mind was of the finest order; she easily mastered the hardest tasks, far outstripping her brother and sister in all mental races. To outward, dull perceptions, no ingredient seemed lacking to render existence palatable. What was the power which so cruelly dwarfed the social faculties, while it hurried on with headlong zeal the intellectual? It was not selfishness craving satisfaction- vanity beseeching admiration. A ray of genuine pleasure crossed her wan face when asked to bestow a favor-only to be chased too quickly away by some hidden, chilling sus- picion. It was not the absorbed, student thirst, despairing of being quenched in repletion, which so distressed her, and rendered life a burden of evil: she prized not her easily won honors. Some morbid tendency in her grand intellect page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 6f8 E iRUBINA. needed to be firmly--speedily uprooted, that utter waste be not spread over it. But whose the loving, tender, cautious hand to do it? How speak, and to whom, of a fear so vague? of a tendency apparently so groundless? It was Miss Warner's custom to invite. one of the older girls to pass a week at her own home when school closed. I was not especially pleased at being this time selected. A week's separation from Demis and Annah seemed endless. To increase this disinclination, Mark solemnly hinted of in- describable gnomes, haunting the great house, making hide- ous noises at dead of night, and suddenly retreating to secret hiding cells, at all investigating attempts: of horrid bats, flapping slimy wings on the walls of the sleeping-room, even profaning the old carved headboards. "I have never seen them, and I have spent more than one week there," interrupted Demis. "We may as well bid her farewell, with weeping hair and disordered eyes," he pursued, reflectively: "I have serious doubts-a presentiment, as Deb would say-about this visit. Strange, the old maids never ask boys to go-no timidity to scare away researches, &c." "Boys are a very valiant race, I know," said Demis, with quiet sarcasm. "I am no hand at story-telling ." "I hope not, indeed," he ejaculated, seriously; " bear in mind their awful portion." - But I will recall one incident for Ruby's edification," she proceeded, not noticing his interruption. Mark com- menced whistling as she related the story. "You have set out your brother well as a coward, Demie, and made a good story for yourself into the bargain," he soberly began, when just at this critical juncture A manda burst into thbe room, RUBINA 69 "This is a pretty how d'ye do ;" she said, snappishy- "Here I've spent the whole of this blessed morning, slaving myself to death, and what do you think I've got to show for it .'" "Oh! oceans and seas of sweet cake, frosted and unfrost- ed, plain and mixed, plums and no plums, and so forth, and so on, ad inmnitum," answered Mark, speedily rallying from the effects of the narrative. "I oughter have enough to be decent, and did have this noon, but if you'll believe me, I can't find hide nor hair of but jest two kinds, and one of them is gingerbread. I baked five, as true as my name is 'Mandy Jane Martin," she angrily spouted. "Pray add, which you are hoping to exchange for 'Man- dy Jane Pierce," laughed Mark. "You're poking fun at me; you always do if I say a word." "Not for worlds, my lovely sister. I was simply stating a self-evident truth. Now, if you will relax that frown a trifle--it's angle is too acute for your style of beauty--oh! don't go,-I'll tell you about your cookery. I suspect it's having two appreciative listeners, as the minister says, on Sugar-loaf hill. I saw Natty go off with suspiciously full pockets, and Dwight shortly-after followed." '"I never!?' she retorted. "I declare 'taint possible to hide any thing in this house, so's they can't find -it. I put that cake in the big tin milk-pail, and set it under the north- room bed, and smoothed the valance down ag'in. I knew they'd hunt, 'cause they see me a picking over raisins; but it beats the Dutch how they find every thing." . "You should be thankful that they left any," subjoined the consoling brother. "I wish they hadn't, for then I could have excused it to page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 RUBINA. the girls; now, they won't believe I had any more, and they'll go away, and call me stingy. I know 'em of old. It's too late to make any more. -I expect 'em every min- nit." She banged the door, and went of muttering. Demis laughed indulgently. Mark carelessly thrust his hands in his pockets, whistling Yankee Doodle. Uncle Joe, who was smoking out of the window, slowly drew in his head, closed the sash, knocked the ashes from his pipe, and while his dark eyes beamed with fun, whispered to me slyly (It's jest as I used to do. Strange- now, how they all take arter me in mischief!" Deborah was suspected of aiding and abetting these dep- redations; she could deny them nothing: she covered their delinquencies with a pall of excuses, never lifted save by their severe mother, for the bestowal of merited reproof or chastisement. Deborah called them " babies yet," incapa- ble of knowing better. Why is it that the youngest nurs- lings in the family flock, are, in our eyes, never grown up? Even if gray hairs streak the dark glossy locks, and shy wrin- kles loiter curiously round the once smooth brow, still, our memory, fondly dating backward, transmutes them to our visions as " mere young things ;" their caprices to be pardoned, their whims indulged. In reality, these were no delicate scions of the parental tree; they needed no hothouse cher- ishing. Wholesome restraint, when away from their moth- er's eye, was shaken off, like a threadbare garment. No room was sacred from their reckless rummaging, except one the " parlor bedroom," in which lingered traditions of ghosts and corpses, there " laid out," which they dared not brave even by daylight, and in which repugnance even the older ones shared. Natty ledthese searches for plunder, sharing the proceeds A,. * RUBINA. 71 with his soberer brother. He purloined Mark's sketches, to present to some favorite playmate.; or to paste, as a figure- head, on a kite. He tumbled his sister's drawers, in search of a knot of ribbon, and boxes for angle-worms. He ab- stracted Amanda's love-letters, thereby producing great mental fluttering, and innumerable bribes of lumps of sugar to restore the precious papers. He invaded my scanty possessions. He dressed himself in Deborah's ample, blue checked robes,-filling out the loose proportions with bol- sters and pillows,-at pleasure. Once, he even donned his mother's best cap, bombazine apron, and spectacles, and ap- peared to her horrified gaze, in' the dairy. He sometimes wrought his courage up to the pitch-of personating ghostly inhabitants, by the disguising aid of sheets and a floury face; and paid nocturnal visits, only to be quickly scared away by a view of his own apparition in the mirror. - Innumerable the pranks with which he electrified the house; his adven- turous spirit seemed ever on the alert to discover the germ of some new, promising frolic. How we loved and caressed' him! How his merry spirit brought sunshine to chase away shadows, disposed to linger. Dear little Nathaniel! You tormented me sorely 'at times; many an alien pang you. plunged, keen and glittering, in my side. Yet it never lin- gered long; no malice corroded it; no genuine unkindness turned its sharp edge rusty. It was only the glitter of fun's bright weapon; the unconquerable spirit of mischief's tran- sient- sting. page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 RUBINA. CHAPTER VII. MSS CHARITY was not sent for from home that night. At the breakfast-table she descried " the grays " leisurely trot- ting down the long hill, sloping before and beyond the farm- house, only to ascend in a steeper elevation. Over the sum- mit of this second hill, arises the neat, white homestead of Farmer Pierce. Miss Charity finished hastily, and started up: "There's Brother Jesse'; he never likes to wait." She darted up-stairs with the agility of fifteen years. I prepared to follow, in more leisurely fashion. "Bless me," said Demis, " you don't look much-as if you was going a pleasuring, my child,"--she still assumed the maternal prerogative. Deborah here took me aside. -'Now don't look so down in the mouth about it. They mean well by you, and think it an honor; they'll feel dred- ful curus ef you come any high strikes on 'em." I inter- rupted her by an indignant exclamation, but she raised her hand authoritatively. "Mabbe 'twill be a leetle lonesome at the fust start; they're a strange set of 'em; but a week's soon over. 'Time and Tide wait for no man;' that's trueas gospil preachin', Ruby. It used to be set for my copy, as long ago's I went to school to old David Butterfield, and it struck me so, I ain't never forgot it. Now, go and put on your roas'-meats, for he's hitched his hosses, and's comin' in. He sets his life by them critturs," she added aside to Aunt Rhoda, as his heavy tramp resounded on the piazza. "Uncle Jesse entered shivering, and greeted us with his own heartiness of 'manner. He advanced, and spread his RUIBINA. 73 great brown palms before the hot kitchen stove. "Wall, this ere's putty tough weather for spring, Square," said he. "Yis, we may look out for any kind in March; she's a proper skittish month," responded Uncle Joel, " she come in like a lamb, and she'll go out like a lion, most likely. I never knew that are to fail." "'A roarin' lion,'" added Mr. Warner, with a humorous twinkle in his keen gray eye, "' seekin' whatsomever it may devour,' which, in my 'pinion, means hands and noses; them's what suffers most in this keen wind. I tell you it cuts like a razor." He clapped his broad hands to his glowing cheeks to obliterate the stinging remembrance. "How's your health, Mrs. Martin, now-a-days? poorly, as usual, I suppose?" he added, with a chuckle. Uncle Jesse Warner always grew facetious with favorable surroundings. - "Yis, I hold out consid'rable well. Ef I didn't, I don't know what would become of us all: most likely we'd all go to the poor-house afore the year's out," she answered, dart- ing a severe glance at her good-natured spouse. "Poh! Rhody, we ha'int come to that pass yit, I calculate. Law! she thinks"-turning to his guest-"that nobody don't do nothin' in this house but jest herself. She's a dredful smart woman though, I admit," he added, as she tied on her long, woollen apron, and departed to see- after her cheeses. "She gin'rally keeps up fust-rate sperrits, but she's a leetle down in the mouth lately-you see, we did'nt sell off our cheeses last fall; don't bring but four cent a pound in mar- ket, and so I held on to 'em; wall, it sort o' frets her, I see. Then, too, 'bout Mark-" "Why, what about him?" asked his listener, anxiously. "Wall, I don't want it to go no further; but seein's it's you, I don't care ef I tell," he answered, reaching down his 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 174 RUBINA. pipe, and pressing its cavity full of tobacco. "Have a smoke?"-he offered it to Mr. Warner. "No," said the latter; 4 I smoked jest afore I left hum. I do that allers, to settle my breakfast." "Wall,"' resumed Uncle Joel, slowly puffing great blue clouds out into the room, and placidly eyeing me as I stood, hooded band - awled, by the window: "you see she's sot her heart on our oldest boy's bein' a gospil preacher ever since he was-oh, so high! I've heerd her lot on it to beat all.' She took a notion that he was called of the Spirit, and, like Samuel of old, born a child of God. I could'nt never see s he was a bit different from the rest, that come along arter him; maybe he was fuller of his jokes, but that ain't no great recommend; for a preacher. Wall, this is neither here nor there ;'the gist of the business is this, Jesse. The lad is crazyto be a painter: he's got some idee 'bout bein' a big man; maklin' us all proud on him; and I don't know what." ' Do tell now," 'said Mr. Warner, aghast. "Law! I guess the lad is a leetle out of his head; I don't think painters amount to much. There's Seth Gibbs now, down to 'Thun- der,' he's one on 'em, and he don't know much more'n enough to go in when it rains." "Oh," hastily interrupted Uncle Joel, "I don't mean that kind o' paintin'; any body can daub over fences and housen, I s'pose " I broke in grandly, with a proud toss of my head: "He means to be an artist; to' paint beautiful landscapes, and portraits; and I quite approve the plan." "You do, eh!" said Mr. Warner, laughing. "Another rebellious sperrit in your house, Square. Sister Roby says you'll hev your hands full one of these days, a tryin' to bring 'em all under." RUBINA. 7 Wall!" said Uncle Joel, simply, "I dun know as I want to; they're well 'nough; though Rho dy does say sometimes that 't seems to her as ef Satan's broke loose." "'Spose we hear our ambitious little woman's plans for herself," said Mr. Jesse, quietly. I laughed. "Oh, I mean to be a teacher like your sister, but I shall not always teach, of course.' "Of course not;" he echoed. "How can we expect it I Children now-a-days begin life when we leave off. Eh, Mr. Martin?" "Yis, Jesse; you see she's as bad as Mark. They've all got great idees; and the Lord only knows where they'll bring up. Amanda's the only one who sides with her mother. As for me I'd jest as lief the lad would settle down, near hum, in some likely trade. I don't want none on 'em to slave as I've done all my days; and I ain't no more fore- handed than I was thirty years ago." "But you keep out o' debt, and that's somethin'; that's 'bout all I manage to do," returned Mr. Jesse, cheerily. "I dun know 'bout, that, neighbor. B'tween you and me and the whippin' post, I'm 'fraid I shan't make a raise of the int'rest money this year; and that are mor'gage looks like a mountain. Sometimes I think I may as well give up. beat fust as last, for I shall never be able to lift it. off, high and dry, in all this world." "Pshaw," said Mr. Jesse, " your boys'll help you." "Wall, it'll come 'pon me so by spells, though I don't never mean to let these things move me, as-Rhody does. It puts her all out o' kilter. I tell her 'taint no sort o' use bor- rowin' trouble; it comes fast 'nough of itself; but law! ef 'taint one thing she's worrvin' 'bout, it's 'tother. I tell her it's a long lane that never turns." page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] MO RUBINA. "That's true as the Book of Numbers, Square-what on airth can keep Sister Charity so? I must git hum to do the chores." "How are the girls?" interrupted his sister 'entering, fully equipped, with boxes and bundles. "Wall, 'bout so, so; Sister Crete's ruther down at the heel; had one of her poor spells last night He broke off to tuck the worn buffalo robes carefully around us. "It seems kinder curus, Ruby, that 'twas mo you fust got 'quainted with here. Lordy! how sorry I did feel for them two leetle gals that night, comin' 'mong entire strangers. Wall, wall, that's all gone by. Now look there," he Continued, pointing to the great Warner mansion, rising bold and bare of enveloping trees, out of the keen, frosty landscape. We turned to the right, and we lost the view. "You'll see 'em all on the look-out, when we git nigh 'nough. That's their way. They look me out o' sight when I start off anywhere; ef 'taint mor'n to go down to the village arter a pound of resins, or an ounce of salarostus, for sister Siny to cook with, and when I git back; there they be still."' Miss Charity smiled. "You know the reason, I hope, brother," she said, with a fond upward glance at his homely, heartsome visage, seamed and scarred, by the destructive forces of wind, toil, and care, which latter plant the deepest furrows. She proceeded softly, "You know you are all the one we've got; so it behooves us to make the most of vou, and guard carefully our human treasure, lest, inadvertently, some covetous wretch see, long for, and, in a twinkling, whisk it away. Now, if we had more of the same staunch article, you might never have occasion to complain of receiv- ing too much attention from a pack of spinster sisters." He looked bewildered. '"She's actilly a laughin' at me, RU BINA. 7% Ruby--me, the lord of the manor, as that Inglish feller down 't'the factories 'says so often 'bout his old stun mill I'll have to take her in hand, won't I F" he continued thought- fully, the smile fading from his purple lips. "It's a pack that melts through into single Injun file fast enough. There's many a true word spoken in jeest, sister Charity, and I don't b'jieve in handlin' such things very often; but I must say I'm glad there ain't no more oh us, to go, one by one, down to the old fam'ly buryin' ground. There's enough now, to keep our hearts a breakin' slowly for more years to come than I like to look forrard to. Verily, it's a world of vanity, and vexation of sperrit; we only git red of one burden, afore an- other bundle, jeest as heavy, is piled onto our shoulders. I tell you we can't shirk sorrer." "True!" answered his sister; sadly. "In Adam all die; how then can our household band hope to escape it? Con- sumption eats at our vitals, and poisons our life-springs. I suppose there is no cure for it; but we know for surety that 'in Christ all shall be made alive,5 and our scattered family reunite on the farther shore of Jordan. There's where we must found our anchor, brother Jesse; the cold stream itself would wash it, and us with it, speedily away; perhaps its rushing torrent bear us onward to dreadful regions." She drew a little, hopeless sigh, which said plainly:!"It is a hard, bitter, forced resignation, springing from necessity, not born of content. Under its stern decree, present separation we must submit to. Let us therefore summon what remains to us of Christian fortitude." "Wall, I know it, but somehow it don't seem to go to the spot," resumed her brother, who was seldom long silent. "I'm nothin' but a selfish creetur, arter all's said and done. I laid awake the live-long night a hearin' sister Crete's dry, page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 Rl BINA hackin' cough; she was dreadful distressed for breath, by spells, and made a sound in breathin' like raspin' files. Wall, I -couldn't git it out o' my head; it went through and through, like one o' Satan's devices we read about, and oughter to forgit, but can't, somehow, for the life of us; and when I got up this morning and -see how 'twas a wear- in' on her out, I was clean discouraged; I felt as though we's the most afflicted family in all Northfield town. I tell you I swallowed a purty big lump o' rebellion afore I did my breakfast.' Arterwards I found that other folks hev their :trials and tribulations, too, even ef they don't come in the same shape as our'n." "'What changed your mind, brother Jesse?" asked his sister, a little curiously. 'Oh, a triflin' sarcumstance; nothin' to speak of," he re- joined, evasively. "But I discover, the longer I live, that truer words wa'n't never spoken than these: 'Ev'ry heart knoweth its owni bitterness.' What makes one forlorn soul weak and sore, another wouldn't mind a straw, and vicey * versey. I tell you, we are measured and fitted for trouble, jest as Silas Peckham, down to the holler, measures me for a new go-to-meetin' suit, once ev'ry five year; and what don't b'long to us by right, is clipped off, ev'ry inch on't, jest as he trims his superfine broadcloth; he don't give me any more than my statur needs, you know. Wall! my- opinion is the Lord won't nuther," 'he concluded, earnestly. - ;s Yes," said his sister, with solemn slowness, if. but death : comes to all hearts alike, as the most terrible, most dread- ' ed of evils. Poverty, obscurity, ignominy, crime even, are counted as naught before this merciless scourge. There is a hope that we may rise above and beyond the reach of the others, after a time; this pursuer there is no escaping.. RUBW 3A. 79 On mountain-tops, in the green valley, in city and connM try, beneath the waves of ocean, he seeks and finds his prey." "Wall," broke in Uncle Jesse, warmly, "I don know 'bout some o' that doctrine. I've seen some folks, now," he pur- sued, reflectively, " proper good neighbors, church members too, and all that, who I don't 'spect would come under that harness. They don't seem to think losin' their connection tho greatest evil; bear up under it amazin' easy and calm like; mabbe it's the-resurrection hope that spurs up their sperrits so soon-; afore they're cold in the ground, as you may say." "At any rate, we are not to be their judges, brother Jesse," returned Miss Charity, half rebukingly. "Here we are at the turn," she added, after a pause. "Now, if you do not start up the grays, the girls will get tired of watching for their bonnie brother." The brother complied. The grays pricked up their ears, mended their pace, and, rounding the corner, cantered into the great yard, in flourishing .style. I stole a peep at the windows. I counted four heads peering curiously out, ere they darted into an obscure background. Only one ven- tured to the threshold. She greeted Miss Charity most af- fectionately, at the same time offering to take her bundles. "Come, little Miss Brook," said my kind host, gayly, as I sat staring stupidly at them, " you're too venturesome a little woman to want to set here all day, 'm sure, so give a jump ; there you be; feel a little cramped, don't you, a settin' so long." I laughed at his good-natured raillery. "Here, sis- ter Siny," he sang out to his sister, who was looking after -her sister's boxes, "I s'pose you've seen this ere young wo- man at meetin' lots o' times, so there's no need o' makin' you acquainted. To tell the truth," he muttered to himself as page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] o KVRUBINA. he unhitched the horses, "I never was no hand at them sort o' things. Siny, now, 's a master-hand at it." Miss Sinai gave. a cheerful little chuckle. "I see, Ruby, that we must manage without an introduction." She looked alout thirty: plump, fresh, wholesome, red- cheeked, with mild brown eyes, and hair to match--rather scanty, it is true-done up in a twist behind, crowned with a high-topped shell comb; dimples played fitful games around her mouth, and ripe red lips offered such attractions that I involuntarily put up mine for a kiss. She was busy, and did not see the action; her brother did, and laughed heartily. She turned quickly; I renewed the pantomime, and, stoop- ing, she drew me close to her bosom, bestowing not one, but a dozen kisses." "That's allers the way. They allers want a kiss from sister Siny, every chick and child in ' the Centre.' I kinder hanker for one myself," said Uncle Jesse, fondly. "Do you indeed? Stoop then!" she gayly cried, and as he complied, they gravely exchanged a salute. She turned to me merrily. "Don't tell any one, Ruby, what a pair of old fools we are. You see how childish he is getting, and as he is all the one I have to spoil, I suppose I must humor his whims once in a while." More good-natured retorts between the two; then she took my cold hand in her warm, soft palm, and led me into the sitting-room--from which, as we entered, we heard feet scudding hastily. Only " the schoolmarm" was sitting quietly by the fire; alternately removing her wrappings of sacks and- shawls, and warming her hands by the genial flame. "Now," said Miss Sinai, carrying off my bonnet and shawl, "my dear Ruby, you are my visitor remember, and I want you to make yourself at home. Go wherever you like; RUBINA. 81' we don't keep locked doors. here, and you will find the latch- string out before every one." How blithe and merry she was. I scouted the idea of her 'being an " old maid." No! that she Wvas not, and never could be. How pleasantly her voice echoed through the corners of the great room: it was low and sweet; free from the nasal accent and strong pronunciation of her brother's speech, or the prim decisiveness of Miss Charity's. She was too buxom to be mistaken for a sylph. Dark " merrimac, warranted to wash," cannot be considered as proper robes for a romantic heroine. Romantic! she would have scorn- fully repelled the insinuation, as something of which to be ashamed. Daily, toilful care is a poor nourisher of senti- ment; the weak plant sickens and dies in such rugged soil. Luxurious ease is its best foster-mother. So, though Miss Sinai read "Thaddeus of Warsaw" by stealth, in her room, at night, and wandered through the fascinating pages of "Alonzo and Melissa," and conned-half awe-struck-the direr horrors of "The Children of the Abbey," she came out in the morning as fresh and blithesome as fbefore; as ready to put her plump shoulders to the wheel of work, and send it rolling merrily around the old domain. It was merely a peep at the fabulous world of the novelist, vouchsafed to the weary work-day spirit, to lighten a little the dull pressure of the material.' She always closed this indulgence with an elastic shake of the head, and the ejaculation, "Stuff and nonsense, every bit." * I liked to watch her as she flitted from room to room, a sub- stantial, self-denying, handsome household fairy; her sleeves rolled to her shoulders, displaying such arms, round, white, and plump, with- soft curves- at the elbows, tapering slowly to the small, dimpled wrists, and losing their identity in the 4* a page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 . RUBINA. perfect hands--marvels of symmetry, small and fair. No mawkish rings tarnished their soft outlines. Miss Sinai re- pudiated jewelry. Her delicate ears had never undergone the torturing puncture with darning-needle and black silk-- perseveringly wielded by a fanatical grandmother. - Indeed, the wearer of long, third-rate pendents she denounced as "factory-fied," and treated to a species of unspoken, good- humored disdain. Neither did a flaming circlet of red, green, or blue stones, in a rim of shining metal, proclaim its individuality from its appropriate throne: she laughed down ', breast-pins." Neat little silk-fringed cravats, tied grace- fully around her slender throat, were her sole adornment. We grew at once confidential. She had the rare faculty of removing from a guest's mind the uneasy strangeness of a first visit. Directly, she had invested me with a charming sense of home-finding. I seemed always to have known her: already I began to look forward with regret to the week's close. She attracted, she magnetized me; and I -followed her as she flew, in and out, about her work. "Where are your sisters?"I asked, in the course of the morning. She was stooping over the fireplace, preparing dinner; either the heat or my abrupt question sent a vivid glow to her face. "Well," she whispered, after a pause, "you see, they like company to come as well as I do, but they are so bashful that it takes them a little while to wear it off." "That's why they ran away as you opened the door this morning?" She nodded. "I saw them at the windows. They need not be afraid of me," I resumed-philosophically adding, "I'm nothing but a little girl yet, Aunt Rhoda says." "Oh, they'll be sociable enough after they see you once; all but sister Crete; she is no great talker at any time." RUBINA. 83 "She is the sick one? I have heard of her." "Yes!" she answered, sadly. "-She has got the consump- tion. We shall all have it some day." "tt You won't," I pronounced decisively. "You haven't got narrow shoulders; Deborah says that is a symptom." She shook her head dissentingly. "That's all stuff, Ruby. It's an hereditary disease. I have never heard of but one cure for it, and that is equal to none; nothing would induce one of us to try it." "Does Miss Charity know of it? She said there was no cure for consumption." "Yes, she knows, but probably did not count this a rem- edy, though I have heard marvellous stories about its success; but, of course, they are all moonshine: I don't believe them." "What is it 1"I asked, curiously. She looked at me a little doubtfully, before answering. "It's to open the grave, after a certain time has elapsed-- I forget how long,-to take the heart from the body, and burn it." "Oh! Miss Sinai," I exclaimed, in horror. "Hush!" she whispered, " don't speak so loud. Charity may hear us. Their theory is, you know, that some material tie, or a sort of invisible cord, binds the hearts of a family together, which can only be severed in this manner. They say the one who dies, draws the next after her, to the grave, by this means; and by rendering her powerlessi the others live the longer." "Why, it's worse than to be a cannibal," I exclaimed, vehemently, " do you think there is any thing in it!" "No, indeed; it's too heathenish a code. I had rather die to-morrow than know of its being practised." Dinner was now served. After several summonses, the shy page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 RUBINA. sisters entered the room, in a body. Miss Lucretia, who was emaciated, wasted to the consistency of a shadow, coughed constantly. Miss Roby, a tall, gaunt woman, who reminded 'me involuntarily of the " gnomes," at which Mark hinted, she looked so surly; her harsh, iron-gray hair, frizzled, un- combed, and unconfined around her hard, wrinkled face, lending it additional sternness. She wore a dark calico gown, of an immense flowered pattern ; a round cape of the same, trimmed with deep, full ruffles, was pinned around her shoulders; the gored skirt, destitute of gathers, save a hand's- breadth behind, clung curveless to her long, lank figure, and, terminating several inches above her leather shoes, left bare a pair of ankles not remarkable -for beauty, either of shape or size. Miss Zilpha, who was likewise old, gray, and thin. She wore spectacles, to conceal her bleared eyes and their in- flamed lids. She wore a string of huge gold beads round her red, pimply throat, for the supposed benefit-cure was out of the question-of a scrofulous swelling under her chin. She helped herself profusely to snuff, after seating herself at the table, despite a prohibiting sign from Miss Sinai, who played the part-of hostess. Then she drew from her pocket a small square of blue calico, and smoothed it over her knees for a napkin. "I like snuff, and I ain't noways 'shamed to let big bugs know it," she muttered, crossly. Miss Sinai looked dismayed at Miss Charity; they both sighed, and said nothing. Uncle Jesse did not say grace; they all thought it ; an interval of profound silence followed, at which I marvelled inwardly. They called it " consider- ing." It was a custom borrowed from the "Shakers," of which strange fraternity their mother had been a member. Escaping, while yet young, from their tyrannical control, and RUBINA. 85 marrying a sober farmer, she became, in form, ones of the "world's people;" but a few old habits she still retained, training her children to their observance. A more diverse family group I have never since seen; in face, form, speech, dress, and manner, none akin. And, as in outward traits, their thoughts and opinions partook no less strongly of this robe of individuality. They could never be reasonedinto accepting each other's views of a subject under family discussion, though their strong family affection one to another, usually yielded a knotty point, accompanied with a knowing nod, which said clearly, "I could say a deal more if I chose; but if it gives you any comfort to have your own way, take it! Idon't care." Not but that the debate sometimes grew hot; especially between. Miss Roby and Miss Zilpha. Not unfrequently a pungent sarcasm peppered the opposite ranks, and produced temporary confusion and dismay among the ruffled cap-borders, causing the defeated logical belligerents to beat a hasty retreat from the field. These sparring tilts occurred only at their reunion at meals; at all other times they were marvellously agreed; or per- haps they were too busy to waste time in empty argu- ment. This dinner was my initiation into their ways; though Miss Sinai, by gay prattle, and constant attention to their wants, and beseeching glances to Miss Charity-who amply seconded her efforts-strove to ward off all topics which might induce controversy. Her eye sought Uncle Jesse's constantly; but his blunt, kindly orbs were unconscious of any feminine meaning. He unwittingly opened the Lyceum, while distributing to each a generous plateful of 6" parsnip stew," served on a mammoth round pewter platter, and emitting an appetizing fragrance.- "Wall, gals, I was down page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 BRUBINA. to old Deacon Nortrop's, this forenoon. He's going to kill a beef critter to-morrow," he serenely observed. "I s'pose you'spoke for a quarter, as usual, Jesse; but we don't want any on't. I'll be bound it's as tough as old Golding, and that was mor'n anybody could make way with," put in Miss Roby, in a gruff, dictatorial tone. She was the possessor of the gruffest voice ever bestowed on woman. Nature is a capricious dame. She fashioned Sinai in a freak of melting tenderness; over the white firm flesh she breathed life's rose-color. She whispered the vocal organs to life, and they woke grateful responses of soft, bell-like melody. Proud grace swayed each careless movement. To her sister had been awarded a more grudging legacy-: she was moulded like a grenadier. The frisky dame looked at her offspring with disenchanted eyes; some utterance she must have certainly: she was not to be a pet and plaything: she was formed for action. A rumbling sub-base fell to her share. And here was Nature's whim, transversed: Sinai, the anx- ious helper; Roby-the week I saw her-an idle grumbler. "How do you know we don't want any?" jerked out Miss Crete-alternating each word with a spasmodic cough. '"I know, and that's enough;" chimed in Miss Zilpha, looking hard at me through her green glasses. She was conceited enough to imagine herself the family oracle. "If we ever git out of any thing in the house, come to me. I'll tell you, brother -Jesse," she finished, with a complacent smirk of her thin, faded lips. ' You need't take the trouble," he answered, dryly. "' You have more pressin' matters to see'to; openin' and shuttin' that are snuff-box, that's got George the Third's humly old pictur painted on the led." RUBINA. 87 "He's a real pritty man," she affirmed stoutly, " and why. shouldn't I have his pictur on't?" "'Cause you oughter be a better Dimocrat than all that comes to," he said-firmly. "All the Warners, ever sence the battle of Bunker Hill-where Grand'ther Seth fell by a British bullet-hev hated the very thought of a redout worse'n pizon." -( Law! you git things all mixed up endways," she retorted with scorn. "He wa'n't shot at Bunker Hill, and a Whig isn't a Britisher." He went on, not heeding the interruption. "And I re- member when our father died, he called me to his bedside and charged me over and over again never to be a turnout; ' Stick to the good old Dimocracy, Jesse;' them's his very words; I haint forgot 'em, and never will. I've allers bin a Dimocrat, and I mean to live and die one." "Do! for pity's sake," again shot out Miss Zilpha. Un- heeding her, he still pursued: "I remember 'fore father died, he sent for old Cap'n Nortrop to come up'n see him; wull, he come post-haste. I wasn't in the room : I heerd him say to the Cap'n, ' I want you to be one o' my pall-bearers, and take charge o' my funeral: you're the only one o' my old cronies as haint goner over to the Whigs. "I mean to die as I've lived-a good Baptist and Dimocrat, and I hope you'll do the same, Cap'n.' Wall, I wan't nothin' but a shaver, then, but I thought Cap'n Nortrop looked kinder conscience smit, when they shook hands on't-and he did begin to say some- thin' 'bout who he voted for last town-meetin' day, but father didn't seem to care to hear it. ' Look here, Cap'n,' says he, 'I don't keer who you vote for, ef you're only a Dimocrat'--" "Wall, I've heerd all that rigmarole afore," interposed Miss Zilpha, quietly. page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 RUBINA. "Oh," coughed Crete, " it's merely a change of subject"-- cough-" feels kinder cheap, maybe"-cough-" 'bout buyin' the Deacon's beef"--cough. "Sister Siny's cook this week, I believe, girls;" re- sponded their brother, good-naturedly; "I'll leave the ques- tion to her now." "Well, brother Jesse, I guess we don't need any," she said, a little hesitatingly. "No more do I; and I wa'n't a goin' to git any," he said, very gravely. "You're the most desateful creetur that ever drew the breath of life then, Jesse Warner. What did you say you spoke for a quarter for.?" chimed in again Miss Zilpha's sharp voice. "I didn't! 'Twas Roby insinuated it: she's a proper sus- picious critter; prides herself on bein' beforehand, tellin' what a body means, and it gin'rally turns out like this: she, don't hit nowheres within gunshot of the mark." "What's the mark, then, in this ere case?" slowly put in the thunder tones;!"I, for one, will be dredful obleeged to ye for postin' on us up." "Wall, now" he resumed-spreading his yellow bandanna on his knees, and deliberately carving a semi-circle of mince pie, "I was on the p'int of sayin' somethin' proper agreeable to you wimmin folks, ef you'd only let me go on as I b'gin. You see, arter I took a look at the Deacon's stock-likely red heifer that of his'n, too-I jeest went in to chat a minute with Aunt Patty--" "I'll warrent ye," broke in Miss Roby, sarcastically. "WTell, brother Jesse, how did you find them "' quietly interposed Miss Charity, in time to prevent another wordy tournament. RUXBINA, - 89 "Smart as usual. Mis' Nortrop was a flyin' round like a hen with her head cut off; beats all how she does hold out; bears her age wonderful, I think. Dolly was tyin' a com- forter. She's all hoarsed up with quinsy; she says she hes to hev jest sech a spell ev'ry winter season. Sara Ann was rockin', as usual. They sent an invite for as many on ye as could, to come to a tea-drinkin' there this arternoon. Aunt Patty stid 'twas to meet the new minister: he'd come- though I haint had a squint at him yit, for that matter." "What'd you tell her?" asked feminine curiosity. "Why, I told her you'd do as you'd a mind to, I s'posed, but I'd do' the arrand," he answered unconcernedly. He rose. "You might have told them, while you's about it, I shouldn't come," -growled Roby, decidedly. "When you catch me there ag'in, you'll catch a weasel asleep." ( I wouldn't be hired to go!" coughed Miss Crete, " to see all the ministers in creation." ("No! you're not able to go," said her brother, affection- ately, " but some o' the rest might, I think; for the looks on't ef nothin' more: though Dolly said she misdoubted ef any on ye would." "Law! did she?" said Miss Zilpha. "Then Ill go, jest to spite her. I 'spose she hopes we won't come: haint got vittals 'nough maybe for a large party. Sister Charity, you'll go too, won't you?"' "That I will," she gayly answered, " after the work is out of the way. I must not leave Sinai to do it all." Not being allowed to share in this work, I stood quietly by and watched their manner of doing it. Deborah often declared that "they were an odd set;"I thought so too, as Miss Roby--filling a pail with warm water, and producing from a closet a bowl of soft soap and a scrubbing-cloth- page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 RBBIN, A slowly let herself down on the floor to wash it. She carefully polished one board its entire length. Her kneeling pil- grimage finished, she with difficulty rose, handed the cloth to her sister Zilplha-waiting for it-who also assumed the devotional posture, and in like manner finished another board. - So they alternately labored, while Sinai and Charity washed, wiped, and put away the blue-edged dishes. These latter talked in an under-tone quite undistinguishable. Miss Lucretia loitered a while by the fire, then went off, coughing violently, to take her after-dinner nap. "Why don't you go visiting "I ventured to inquire of Miss Roby, as she rose from polishing the fifth board. She shyly averted her head ere she answered: - "'Cause, I don't maybe like, over'n above board, some folks' sweet-cake-made out of mutton taller, or ham-grease. I can't go fried meat-fat, or pot-drippings, even if 'tis cleansed. I ain't over fond nuther of eatin' up other folks's leavins of plum sauce; and mor'n all that, I don't want to freeze to death: do you blame me " she demanded gruffly, suddenly turning to face me. "Do they do all that at Deacon Northrop's 8"I asked, curiously. She nodded her head mysteriously. "I shouldn't won- der; and that ain't half. The fact is, they're tight as the bark to a tree. It beats all," she said, reflectively; " they're well-to-do in the world, and ain't obleeged to scrimp so; but as true as I'm a livin' woman, I've known Aunt Patty Nor- trop stop little boys, goin' to the store for a stick of candy; and persuade 'em- to buy a stem of currants instead, and she'd pocket their copper as cool as could be-you know, Ruby, you can make children do most any thing, if you only set out. I've known of her keepin' their hired men on salt RUBINA. 91 pork the blessed summer long-till they got mad and. quit; and Sara Ann's jest as bad as the old folks. She used to carry ' love apples' to school and sell 'em to the other gals- done it oceans of times--for a cent apiece. You can find any quantity of 'em growing wild in the Nortrop woods." "What's bred in the bone, &c., you know, sister,' put in Miss Zilpha, handing her the soap and cloth. "You are a little too hard on them, girls," said Miss Sinai, gently; "We should have charity, you know the Bible says." "Wall, we've got her, Pm sure," laughed Miss Roby, face-. tiously. "I don't see what more you want." "And," pursued Miss Sinai, with a deprecating glance, "we don't make ourselves; we are not born alike: they can- not help it." "Don't talk to me now!" she grimly retorted, "I know they can help it; and I know, too, that the Bible says that 'Faith without works is of no avail.'" "Speakin' of charity," said Miss Zilpha, laughing, and pausing in her labor to dispose leisurely of a huge pinch of snuff, " puts me in mind of the time old Mis' Pettibone went round gitten a new meetin' cloak for Elder Clark. 'Twant no enviable job, but she bad tol'rable good success among the members, till she got to -the Deacon's, about the last place. Some give a quarter, and some fifty cents; the store- keeper's wife give in the trimTnins, and sister Roby and I was goin' to make it all off for our part-wall, she told Mis' Nor-- trop-her arrand. Dolly never opened her head; but Aunt Patty took the paper, and read the names on't, all over, and handed it back without sayin' a word. Mis' Pettibone told me 'bout it herself-s o if it's a lie you have it as cheap as H said she never did feel so streaked afore in all her life; page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 RnUBINA. Specially when Aunt Patty put on a mournful look, and said, kinder solemn, 'Charity b'gins to hum.' " "What did Mrs. Pettibone say to that?"I asked, greatly interested. "She said 'Yis, and gin'rally ends there ;' and she got up and took her boots off quick. She laughed as though she'd split, when she told me, but she said she felt dreadful put out in the time on't." "Wall, at any rate, they might treat folks civil," said Miss Roby. "I remember visitin' there once; 'twas when Sara Ann was a leetle girl-she's jest about your age, Siny, though she don't call herself but twenty-five; church member, too. I guess she skips that part in her Bible that treats 'bout Annias and Sophiry, I'd sent word we was a comin', the day before, me and Delia-'twas when she's alive-and as Dolly Nortrop was jest our age, and a great case to carry on, we lotted on a real sociable set down. Wall, when we got there, ef you'll b'lieve me, there wan't a sign of no fire in the fireplace, and the room was as cold as a barn. 'Fore we got our things off, Dolly come a runnin' in with a shovelful of coals, and Mis' Nortrop she brought a stick or two of green wood and put on top. ' Law!' says she, 'we thought maybe you'd give up comin'; it's so late ('twan't two o'clock.) Dolly let the fire git down; however, the room ain't got cold none, I guess (good reason why, 'twas as cold as cold could be afore), and it'll soon blaze up agin.' Wall, there we sot, the whole blessed afternoon, in a shiver, a waitin' for the pesky fire to blaze up, and, instid, it grew colder and colder, and: the room got as blue as a whetstun. You see, the wood was hemlock boughs, and so full o' water it only smoked and steamed round the edges: it didn't make a mite of no head- way towards burnin', and 'twouldn't nuther ef we'd sot there RUIBINA. 93 till doomsday. I didn't care none for myself, for I felt so full of Cain, I could hardly keep a straight face on; but poor Delia felt it, I tell you: she whispered -to me once that she felt all over goose pimples; and the smoke set her coughin' terrible. There wan't but one rockin'-chair in the room, and that Delia took: she never thought, nor I nuther, but what it's the way to do. I see Sara Ann a standin' round-oh! quite a spell-and lookin' hard at us, but I 'sposed 'twas be- cause she hadn't no manners. Byme-by she went off, and putty soon her mother come in, and told Delia ' that rockin'- chair was Sara Ann's, and nobody sot in't but jest herself;' and so sister Delia had to histe out of it, and the leetle five- year-old brat took it as brazen as could be. I whispered to sister Delia that 'twas part of the play. You needn't look so at me, Charity; I ain't a goin' to say one word 'bout the supper. Dolly come in jest afore the clock struck five, with the shovel, sayin', 'the kitchen fire'd gone out, while we's a visitin'; it kinder slipped her mind,' and so she up and& carried off what few coals was still fizzlin' and sputterin' under the green wood, and I was glad on't, for I opened the winder on a crack, and let out some the smoke. After sup- per, Aunt Patty said, ' she guessed 'twouldn't be worth while to make another fire in the keepin' room, as we shouldn't stay long enough to pay for the trouble, and she felt ruther oneasy allers to go off to bed and leave a great roarin' fire' all shet up.' Wall, that was the wust on't; 'cause I'd told brother Jesse not to come for us 'fore seven or eight o'clock, as we thought, while we's about it, we wouldn't be formal. He didn't come till nine, and I declare my hands got so numb 'fore that time struck, I couldn't hold my knittin' needles; they fairly turned purple. I rubbed 'em kinder sly under my apron; then I made an arrand out to the kitchen, page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] ?4 RUBINA. to git a drink of water, and tried to warm 'em a trifle by the stove. Wall, would you b'lieve it? that was out. too. I hope Mis' Nortrop didn't keep awake that night, for fear the house'd catch afire. I'm sure she might a slept as tranquil as the babe unborn, for- when we come away, there wan't a sign of no fire in the hull house, 'cept the flame of one leetle scraggly, dipped, taller candle; and the wick of that didn't look strong enough to stan' alone, kep' loppin' to one side, and Aunt Patty had to give it a poke once in a while with the pint o' her scissors to make it know its place. They had an ile lamp on the mantel-tree, but 'twan't lit. Wall, Rubiny, the long and short of the matter is, that I made up my mind then that I didn't like to go visitin'. Poor Delia was laid up with rheumatiz the hull spring after. I thought then, and I do now, that 'twas a settin' half a day and night in that are cold room brought it on: she run down all that summer and-we buried her afore snow fell." Her voice sounded a little tremulous as she concluded. We had been left alone at the close of this recital. Miss Sinai had disappeared noiselessly. Miss Charity softly fol- lowed. Miss Zilpha peered curiously into the closet, after their departure, at the neat piles of dishes; dipped one skinny fore-finger under the creamy surface of a pan of milk; tasted it, and, apparently satisfied of its sweetness, helped herself to a pinch of her favorite comfort, and took herself off. It was torturing to watch her walk. It was like a screw; hither and thither she swayed-like a slender forest-tree driven by the wind. I felt relieved when she gained the entry door, and it had closed upon her receding figure. As for Miss Roby, it was like the hush after a tempest, the lull that fol- lowed. Her work was likewise finished; the kitchen floor made neat, and shining like glass. She turned, and shuffled AUBINA. 95 heavily away. For the remainder of the day she was invisi- ble in the sitting-room, being domiciled in Miss Crete's com- fortable quarters across the hall. CHAPTER VIII. IN less than an hour Miss Charity appeared, carefully at- tired in her best company frock-a lustreless black silk- with wrist and neck decorations of narrow lawn raffles; at the junction under the chin, appropriately finished by a tiny knot of pale purple ribbon. These tasteful bits of ribbon, and her velvet head-band, roused the scornful ire cf the grim Puritan dames in the vicinity, who looked upon all outward adorning, in one past the giddy period of youth, and also a "church member," as but sinful vanities of the world, and hardness of the spiritual life. However, as her sisters liked them, she paid no heed to others' frequently expressed disap- proval. She looked and moved a lady; though a rather prim one. Drawing a chair to the fire, she quietly seated herself to wait for her sister. Miss Zilpha's mode of entering a room was altogether pe- culiar. First, the door noiselessly turned on its hinges-a treacherous click of the latch alone sounding a warning of her coming. Then a sharp nose was thrust through the cre- vice, -cautiously followed by the glittering- green spectacles, taking a hasty survey. Then the long angular waist was in- serted, and finally the whole figure wedged itself through the narrow space. A startled look rested upon her face at attain- ing her object so boldly. Her long, lean figure was arrayed in faded blue camlet; the scantiness of the skirt compensated page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] RUBINA. for by the ample fulness of the sleeves. On one arm swung a huge, cinnamon-colored, silk work-beg, with her knitting- needles protruding through its mouth. A century ago it had figured at similar gatherings, depending from her grandam's sturdy muscles, as she donned her huge "caleche," and mounted the cream-colored pacer, old Bess. Miss Zilpha was proud of its history, and cherished it as a priceless heir- loom. "That ere," she said-pointing to it with her withered finger, "could tell heaps of cur'ous stories eft could only speak. I'd give a crossed sixpence to hear some on 'em, wouldn't you now, sister Charity 'bout when the church called a council, to turn poor old Elder Thatcher away; the Lord only knows what for: grandmarm didn't, though she tried hard enough to find out the real reason: the deacons, for once, was close-mouthed enough. Some said 'twas for his carryings on with Phila Hurd, settin' up, and walkin' out with her afore his first wife died, and you know mother said he married her jest as soon as she did breathe her last fare- well-afore she was cold in her grave as you may say-" "Come, sister !" interposed Miss Charity, serenely, "the horse is waiting for us; biother Jesse will be getting im- patient." "I must take my own time, sister. I can't be hurried," she responded, loftily. Perched on her forefinger, like a nondescript bird pluming itself for sudden flight, sat her muslin, lace-bordered cap. She deposited it carefully on the table, shook out her hem- stitched kerchief-which smelled strongly of dried rose- leaves--and enveloped in its creases the antiquated coiffure; tying the four corners in a firm " weaver's knot." " There," she said, complacently, donning shawl and bonnet, "I guess ft ' . that won't ontie: I hate a 'granny's knot' above ground, it's always a slippin' out., Wall, sister Siny,"--stepping before her--" you hain't said whether I'll do or not. 1 thought, seein's the new minister's to be there, I'd put on my best bib and tucker." Miss Sinai smiled. "You will do admirably," she cried, gayly. "Be sure and bring Ruby and I a favorable account of the new minister, to pay us for staying at home." "Certain !" responded Miss Zilpha, opening the pantry door, at which both of her sisters laughed. "My spice boxes 'are nearly empty," called Sinai after her. "Enough here for me to-day," she innocently answered, opening the little oval Shaker boxes, and abstracting sticks of cinnamon, pendules of cloves, grains of allspice, and stems of dried caraway: these she placidly dropped into the work- bag's capacious hollow. It's easy to see why Zilpha likes that enormous bag !" re- marked Miss Sinai, mischievously. "Sister Charity carries her work in her pocket, but then it don't have to hold spices too. -I wonder it don't kill you, sister!" she continued; " you are always eating something." "I feel a sort of goneness," returned her sister, "most ways afore meal-times. I 'spect I've got the heart-burn. Old Doctor Lovejoy told me a mite of caraway seed was good for that are complaint: and the cap sheaf is that I kinder hanker for something to gnaw away on." After a pinch of snuff, she declared herself " all in a flutter-budget to be off." From a side-window I watched them, down the long white road, past its sweeping curve, and out of sight; their green veils fluttering, and their heads occasionally turning to note the objects they passed by. A high wind sweeping over the cold, March landscape; page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 RUBINA. the cheerless contour of its skeleton trees; the monotonous dearth of life and sound without, made the large cheerful sitting-room within, with its glowing, crackling fire, and Miss Sinai's sweet face, the very embodiment of comfort. "I wonder what we had better do "she said musingly, as I looked vaguely around. "What do you like best, Ruby?" I glanced at my well-stuffed carpet bag in the corner. "Aunt Rhoda insisted on putting up my work; she said I must knit to the heel. I hate knitting stents! don't you Miss Sinai?"I cried vehemently. She laughed at my rueful glances. "I believe I used to dislike it; but I got over that a long time ago. Suppose you unlock your satchel and let me see your work!" I obeyed rather reluctantly. She scanned it carefully, and again sent forth a low, musical chuckle. "Sooth to say, you are no great knitter, Ruby; that's a fact." She smoothed it over her knee with one plump, dimpled hand. "Why, I don't believe you narrow at all-and the seam is very bro- ken--and--mercy on me! do see the droppd stitches; they are making tracks for home as fast as ever they can." I suppose I looked guiltily foolish under her raillery, for she suddenly stopped, and added, "I'll tell you what we will do, Ruby! You ravel the stocking-its only a moment's work-and I will knit it over for you." I joyfully complied. She mended the fire, adding seasoned twigs to the huge smouldering back-log, which speedily pro- voked Carting tongues of flame, up the wide chimney. This e, she opened the old-fashioned butternut writing-desk, and turned over its meagre hoard of books. Selecting "Food for Reflection" for her own perusal, she lingered thoughtfully over the rest-so long that-my imperfect crea- tion being returned to its embryo shape-I tossed the white RBtBINA. 99 ball on the table, and returned to the window. The wind was lulling. A homeless ray of sunshine illumed, for an instant, the' dark edges of swift-sailing cloudy. "What are you looking at?" said a voice presently, behind me. "Is that a graveyard, Miss Sinai?"I pointed to a group of white objects, looking like marble shafts. "Yes, Ruby! It is our family burial-place." "Oh! I did not know you had one." I counted six stones: "How much trouble you have seen!"I said, pityingly. "I was but a baby when sister Artemisia died: neither do I vividly remember my father's death. Sister Roby says that brother Jesse is his very image." "But the rest?"I said, heedlessly. "The rest," she echoed, sadly, "I have mourned as well as the others. My mother lies there; and my three sisters, whom I loved dearly-Delia, who petted me. more than the others; she was my protector, too, if I got into mischief, or trouble; my nurse when I was sick, and I cried myself into a fever when she died. Sarah faded next-our beautiful snow-wreath, and the house grew very lonely; it hasn't got out of the corners yet," she said, with tearful pathos, " and only a few months ago, we laid sister Submit by her side." "Don't it make you afraid," I at length ventured, "to see those graves every time you look from the window?" "My dear Ruby!" she said hastily, putting her hand fondly upon my shoulder, "Afraid! of what? No!" she softly continued, without waiting for my answer. "3There they lie; poor, harmless dust of our dead divinities; and we, whom they loved, and left sorrowing, keep faithful guard over them. There is something, to my mind, cold and com- fortless, in burying the dear departed away from our sight, page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 RUBINA. in a common cemetery. Where they have roamed on earth, there should they likewise sleep,. and awake at the sound of the last trumpet-at home. There, where the old home violets and daisies blossom, and clover and wild-brier scent the air. Why should we banish them to the silence of alien graves, and weeds, and nettles? You should see their resting- place in summer, Ruby! It's the sunniest spot on the whole farm. A little brook winds through the meadow: the orchard lies beyond, where robins trill the mornings into noons. You can see the grain wave green and yellow in the field below, where crows caw loudly. Then, when the sun dips behind the mountains the whip-poor-will sounds its vespers, and fire-flies light their torches. We, too. from this window, watch how tenderly the moon and stars bathe it in holy light: perhaps we also think, how soon we shall take our places beside them; but we are not afraid, Ruby." ' "You do not wear mourning, Miss Sinai?"I next inter- rogated. "-No! that is a gloomy custom. It will not bring them back, and it only saddens the living. I have too often seen it the ostentatious garb of hypocrites; mourning in their robes, but rejoicing in their hearts. And you know," .she added, smilingly, " we are part Shakers; they do not believe' in it. Still, we all do as we-please about it: each suits her own feelings. Sister Charity likes to wear it, and does; we do not aobject, or ridicule it." I was preparing another storm of questions, but she play- fully drew me away to the secretary, saying, "Now you have ruminated long enough; see here! which will you have?" She reached down the volumes,- reading aloud their titles, "' Young's Night Thoughts'--too gloomy, I suspect!"I RUBINA. -101 nodded. Shereplaced it. "'Doddridge!' No. 'Plipim's Progress,' then?8" I shook my head. "I know it by heart," I cried. "How would you fancy 'Dick's' works, then?" and she gravely handed me a ponderous tome for inspection. "It looks incomprehensible," I managed to say, after a doubtful survey, "I am in despair then, Ruby! No; here is one I have not seen in an age" (she had artfully concealed it to the last): and she fished from a dusty corner a mutilated, ink- besmeared, dog-eared copy of "Robinson Crusoe." I grasped the coverless volume eagerly. Aunt Rhoda allowed no such fascinating tales in her house: all such lite- rature became contraband if discovered, and was speedily con- signed to the flames. Mark managed to elude his lynx-eyed mother's sense of moral duty; and I once caught a glimpse in Deborah's drawer, of part of "Charlotte Temple." Miss Sinai knitted rapidly as she read, bestowing no- atten- tion upon her work, yet fashioning a well-shaped stocking, without dropping a stitch. At intervals she raised her eyes to turn the leaves of her book, and to flash into my corner a. sunny smile of pleased content. The short afternoon waned. "Five!" was solemnly knelled by the clock ere she stirred. "You like that book, Ruby?" she inquired. "I should think so, Miss Sinai! It's charming! I should like to live just so, and you should be my ' Friday."' She laughed. "Strange, Ruby, -but I don't feel much flattered. He was a savage, you know, and the proposal implies that you consider me eligible for one also." "Oh! no, indeed. I prefer you as you are. We should be a little more civilized, of course; have more to eat; and keep out of the reach of cannibals." page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102- R UBINA. ' "I like to watch you, as you read," she said, smiling, "I've had that pleasure this half hour.: You have such a way of smacking your lips at a relishing passage-just as brother Jesse does at any dish which especially suits his palate. He is an epicure: I suspect you may be a mental one." I shook my head dubiously. - "I never read any thing," I said. "That's a dreadful state of things," she responded, with mock seriousness. "I never had but one book, Miss Sinai, guess what that was." "'Gulliver's Travels,' maybe, or ' Arabian Nights.' No? What then?"' "' The Young Woman's Guide."' She laughed at my rueful air. "I shall never read it, Miss Sinai: I've tried more than once. Aunt Rhody says it's my duty to read it through: but I don't remember a word, when I try." She turned to -the window to conceal her merriment. "Poor child!" she said presently. "I may possibly hear some one speculating about your literary tastes, and come to the rescue with a word of advice, provided you tell me, you know." "Oh no, that is improbable, Miss Sinai. 'The Young Woman's Guide' will go to my descendants alone." "Stranger things than that I spoke of, happen now-a-days," she merrily returned, whisking out the tea-table. "Crete' ain't so well," said Miss RobyT, gruffly, at tea, "dreadful plagued for breathin'. I guess I better steep up some 'izop for her. She's uncommon put to it for breath, to- night. I b'lieve, and allers shall, that she's more phthisicky than any thin' else." -RUBINA. 103 "It's these cold winds that affect her so. I do hope we shall have settled weather soon," said Sinai, anxiously. Wall, we won't!' ain't no prospect on't. It'll be dread- ful tryin' all the spring, 'specially when the trees are leavin' out," said Miss Roby, gloomily. "And there is no hyssop," pursued Sinai. "You will have to take chamomile." Uncle Jesse brought his sisters home from the Deacon'a, in due season. Miss Roby questioned them closely as to "What they had for tea?" "How many kinds of cake ." "Black tea or green?" "Sage cheese or dried beef?" Whether the table appointments were scant as usual, or decent enough for hospitality?" Finally, '"Who was there? what they wore? and what work they carried " Sinai colored a little during this catechism, but main- tained profound silence. Her intuitive refinement of char- acter, controlled by powerful Christian benevolence, ren- dered these gossipy details extremely distasteful. She absolutely writhed in her chair when names were spoken, and Miss Zilpha's sharp voice weighed them in her bal- ances, on each pronouncing judgment. "Do unto others, &c.," was the broad platform on which Sinai planted all her motives of thought and action: self-sacrifice was the predominant element surrounding her daily life. She would not have relished a neighbor's discussion of her household: she relished still less her sisters' method of overhauling their neighbors; but an expression of this feeling would have wounded these sisters-all her elders in age-so she compressed her lips in resolute silence. She. looked up only when the minister came upon the stage; was turned around, familiarly discussed, and sent off with flying colors. Miss Zilpha pronounced him, "A page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 RUBINA. pritty man, and not a bit proud; I thought him real hum- spun, didn't you, Charity?"' . "Sister Charity's as mum as a dormouse!" growled Roby. "Oh!" broke in Miss Charity, "I'm sure Zilpha's sufficient for the talking. Your aunt, Ruby, invited him to take up his quarters with her for a few weeks; as he will not move his family here yet." "I shouldn't a bit wonder, now," interrupted Miss Zilpha, "If this tea drinkin' was planned for that very purpose; to save the Deacon's folks from bein' obleeged to have him there. He's got to stay somewhere, you know, and they're curious creeturs 'bout some things. Mis' Martin couldn't do no less than ask him hum with her, the way 'twas brought up. What do you think, sister Charity?" "I think,'" she answered dryly, "that we, have sufficiently discussed our friends and neighbors for one sitting; so-I move an adjournment." Seconded, and carried debateless; an unconsidered point of domestic order faced suddenly the dispersing cabinet- my bestowal for the night. The sisters occupied apartments wherever their taste dictated: not in contiguity to each other, as more social instincts might suggest. / The great, roomy mansion admitted of entire exclusiveness, of which they availed themselves. The house-would no doubt have quartered a regiment. Perliaps it had opened its warm, wide heart, in hospitable eagerness- :to afford secret shelter to sorely-pressed Revolutionary heroes. Its doors may have swung on reluctant hinges for bands of Tories, and King George's soldiers; the lofty chambers re-echoing their brazen orgies, with quivering shame. Uncle Jesse had legions of stories concerning "good old colony times," stowed away in his memory; which he was not loath to bring out for lengthy f 105 RUBINA. 10 airihgs, to appreciative listeners. In this fond pride he was back to the sad,.yet glorious annals of that long, gory, desperate struggle; a heart to heart, almost a friend to friend strife, between the powerful, vengeful lioness, and her tad- dened offspring-that thrust not inquisitive fingers at the roots of our own forefathers'-sunken graves, to delve amid its decaying lore; to clear away the weedy forgetfulness, which might over-run beyond pruning, and shroud in shame- ful obscurity, the patriotism and divine self-sacrifice of our own soldierly grandsires; to polish to a still brighter lustre the frail, corroding glimmer of human fame-human glory A shadow of these thoughts flitted through my mind. I shuddered at the idea of sleeping alone in the strange rooms, out of which opened numberless cupboards, presses, and doors communicating-by narrow passages-with other rooms, their counterparts. Not portentous tiings in them- selves, in cheerful daylight; but trifles, light as these, often bespeak insurmountable terror to a timid spirit, thoroughly educated in superstitious lore, and ever on the alert to prove or disprove its own stupid imaginings. I was to be spared such trial. Each spinster claimed me for her bedfellow. It was in vain that Miss Sinai, in answer to my appealing glance-insisted on the traditionary right of a hostess th apportion guests their quarters, and with her usual meek submission to her sisters' whims, she allowed herself to be silenced. Miss Roby declared that, "I should try each of their rooms in turn." In order that fairness might characterize her proceedings, she stooped to the wood-box, selecting therefrom four splinters. These she arranged in her two bony palms, and requested her sisters "to draw." "Mine page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] -106 RUBINA. is the longest!" she exclaimed, triumphantly; and, gruffly facing me, she seized a candle, and my satchel, and marched me off forthwith. CHAPTER IX. UP a broad, steep, winding staircase plodded Miss Roby's heavy footsteps--echoed by my fainter tread. Her pegged boots emitted a painful squeak, as she trod the oaken boards of the dim, shadowy corridors. A rush of cold air smote our candle, nearly extinguishing its flickering glimmer: then it rushed at a headlong pace past us; enveloping us thereby, and dissipating, in chattering teeth and icy shiverings, all sense of the glowing warmth and light of the family room below. Though I shunned, with curling lip, the idea of being afraid, my poltroon heart tacitly acknowledged the- fact, by sending out a hand to clutch cautiously my grim guide's robe; and not for worlds would I have ventured a curious glance over either shoulder. I carefully abstained from pull- ing Miss Roby's gown lest she suddenly turn, and overwhelm me with derision. This was no easy matter, as her gait was a shuffling lurch sideways; sometimes hitting a-shoulder against the white-washed wall, and compelling me to adopt the same style of motion. Once,: her foot stumbled at a door, which-as if in answer to a preconcerted signal-flew open wide. It brought Miss Roby to a halt. "This was poor sister Sary's room," she remarked--plunging the flar- ing, wick into' the repellant darkness. "And there ain't a thing been touched in it-so to speak, sence she died. See here!" she added, entering and going straight to a closet- RUBINA. 107 door, which she opened. It seemed the abode of dusty dampness; a vague, mouldy smell-that sometimes attaches itself to chests of long-packed clothing-exhumed therefrom. In it hung dresses, bonnets, and mantles-one, a scarlet cloak of broadcloth, with deep capes, in whose heavy folds those merciless ravagers, 'the moths,' had gnawed huge modes of entering. A goodly pile of counterpanes and quilts occupied one corner; wreathed over, with a spider's fairy-like tracery. -Her shoes were also there, with creases crossing the morocco tops, as if just removed from the tired feet-now rapturously treading the golden pavements of the Eternal City. In the outer room was the bed; made up round and high with feathers, after the fashion of New Eng- land housekeepers: the soft pillows, in their long, narrow cases, having-above their hem-her initials worked in blue worsted "cross-stitch" - The narrow-framed mirror-one- half a picture of a two-storied, prim country house, flanked by wings, and surrounded by a yellow fence; out of which seemed to rise-(a closer inspection led to the surmise that they took root in the garden behind) flourishing poplars, of unnatural blue-green foliage. Below this quaint little mirror was its accompaniment-still to be found in rural districts -a comb-case of red and black broadcloth, suspended from a nail, with the yellow warped comb faintly streaking its mouth. The light-stand underneath the mirror, containing a work-basket and its implements; a little basket of tiny 3hells, and yellowish white " lucky bones ;' a Hymn-Book and a Bible. These mute surroundings lingered still at the maiden's shrine: the, pilgrim frequenter, with penitential tears, had been rapt heavenward, to kneel at a higher wor- ship. This room seemed the real grave of the vanished human presence; sadder, more solitary, more sacred by far ! page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] '108 RUBINA. than the grassy, snow-covered heap in yonder' meadow. Tlhat seemed an empty symbol, erected to satisfy man's love for a tangible form: this, the real cemetery. Nay! it seemed--the longer we lingered-as if the life that formerly inhabited it- still clung earthward; still trod the faded car- pet, and looked into our eyes, or floated in space, around- and above our heads; in some mysterious guise, impalpable to our gross eyes of clay, but making her presence visible to our finer inward consciousness; just as Music, floating down to -us from the same-unseen, immortal heights-itself no less a breath of the same divinity-condescends to draw nigh unto our earthly embodiment; to claim kinship with flesh, bone, muscle, and thrill our dormant spiritual fibres with its vague, mesmeric pulsations. I could not repress a shudder-which was partly of men- tal origin-at the icy dampness of the room, most tomb-like. I even -thought I could detect a lingering smell of the var- nisheod coffin-borne from it so long ago-and I wondered at the matter-of-fact complacency of Miss Roby's countenance. She evidently was unawed by ghostly imaginings, as she settled several chairs anew, and pulled the awry bed-spread into place. I was inexpressibly relieved when she mo- tioned me out, closed the door, and again took up the line of march toward her own quarters. These were at the farther end of the last narrow passage. It was her whimsical fancy to room here, where not a genial whiff of sound of the life below stairs, or her sisters' distant chambers could smite her ears. If there be a charm in isolation, Miss Roby found and enjoyed it. In these upper rooms she ruled alone; no recluse in his cell more given over to welcome solitude. Her solitary window looked on the garden-now a white waste- and, afar off, the continuous gray, mountaitn chain, from RUBINA. 109 which Greybaul towered-king among peers; undisputed : / prophet, among his followers. ^ Miss Roby paused at the door, drew a key from her pocket, and solemnly unlocked it. She pushed me in before her, and I imagined how a convicted, sentenced culprit might feel, traversing, in company with his jailer, dim prison-wards; ushered, in reluctant state, to his dreary cell. However, my turnkey followed me in, and closed the door with a heavy bang: the draught of air it created extinguished our candle, and as she again turned the key in the lock we were left in utter darkness. "This is a pretty how-d'ye-do," she muttered, audibly; "nary a lucifer-match in the room, I'll be bound! though, for that matter, Lucifer himself is allers round, seekin' who he may devour, body and branch. Do you know that, Rubiny 2" raising her voice to a sepulchral treble, as she searched-groping heavily around-for wherewith to kindle a light; evidently with the result she had predicted, for she unlocked the door, and saying: '( You stay here, and I'll git it lit in a minnit," shuffled heavily away. I trembled like a leaf; for-in spite of my secret shame at the thought-I was an arrant coward. Her last remark conjured up the idea of his Satanic majesty. "She may be right," whispered my craven heart. ' He may, even now, be marking you for his prey. What if he should seize me? I am no doubt a ', fit subject!"In despair at this horrible suggestion, I tim- orously crouched on the floor, and fell-in a happy fit of faith-to saying my prayers with vigor. I think I never re- hearsed the familiar prattle with more energetic demonstra- tions, or in a louder tone. Such earnestness would season many torpid prayer-meetings, with a savor of warmth very convincing and melting to the cold snows of congealing sin- page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] 'll0 . RUBINA. ners' hearts, which never--by such suns--have chance to thaw. I dared not put out a hand, lest I inadvertently clutch what I most dreaded; 'perhaps," thoughtI, " the very cloven feet themselves, or the snaky appendage, always honoring artistic representations of the destroyer of Eve, in the Sunday-school books, which frighten credulous children into early piety, precocious experiences, and early graves." Cold chills ran over me. I felt my hair rise on end; that strange phenomena which so often thrills us: often, while roaming heedlessly some green, sunny meadow, or in a crowded street, or by the quiet home hearth-fire- which Deborah explained by saying that we were on the identical spot where, in the future, should rest our graves. "Am I to be buried here? She has been gone long enough to light forty candles. You're a fool!"I added, to my beat- ing heart, which was thumping away like a sledge-hammer. To quiet it, I began a good old Psalm, and had half finished it, when the heavy tread again resounded, and a welcome gleam of day shone on my night. A malicious smile distorted Miss Roby'A wide mouth, as she comprehended my terrors. I verily believe she rejoiced there- in, and would have relished exceedingly another trip down- stairs, could she have summoned to her aid an eligible excuse. "Why, child alive! you're as white as a sheet," she said, putting down the candle. "You didn't see nothin' now, did you, to scare you so?" she whispered, curiously regarding me. "I tell you!" she added, grimly shutting her teeth, "I got a rale lectur' from sister Siny, for leavin' you up here in the dark. Jest's though any thing'd tech you here sooner'n down in her room!" she said, with scornful emphasis. "Idon't know how 'tis; but somehow or uther she's took to you mightily; and for that matter, she's oncommon 'fraid of the dark, herself." RUBINA. 1" "Is she ." I asked, immensely relieved. "Yis, Rubiny Ann! she is-ef that's any comfort; and I s'pose 'tis, for misery likes company, you know. I knowed you was scart awful; or you wouldn't strike up old'Dun- dee' in that are way." She paused and shook with laughter. "Are you glad of it?"I asked, indignantly. I believe you blew out the light on purpose to try me." "Law! no, child, I didn't; no such thing." She chuckled still to herself. "I was only a thinkin' how folks allers goes to singin' when they're scart; as if that'd help 'em any! When sister Siny was a leetle gal, she'd strike up 'On the road to Zion,' jest as soon as she opened the sullar-door, to go arter potatoes or apples.' I've sent her down many a time, jest to hear her; and laughed ready to split, all the time. There's Benjamin Field, too, that lives jest above here: he's courtin' Sary Jane Wells, over on ' Stafford's Hill,' and he goes hum; Sunday nights, a-screechin' as loud as he can yell-a reg'lar Injun whoop; he hain't no voice, nor never had; or else he whistles, and one noise's bad as t'other. Great foot he is, to let ev'ry body know how late he comes hum ' I lay here and laugh all to myself, knowin' he's as 'fraid as death-ef tain't moonlight-and he thinks nobody don't know it. "Now," she resumed, more gruffly than ever, "I should like nothin' better than to see a spook, if there be any: I reckon we'd come to an understandin' proper quick, and I'll resk but what I'd git the upper hand of 'em, in less than no time, if we did have a tussel." Miss Roby's sleeping apartment was a museum of old- maidish hoards-dusty, useless lingerings from the Past's remembrances, which she piled into corners, chests, and cupboards; shoved under the high tent-bedstead-itself a cherished relic; and littered the tops of bureau and chairs. page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 RUBINA. There the high chair stood, in which all the Warner babies had been tied, and drawn to the family board, from time immemorial. By its side the heavy wooden cradle; its ponderous cliff shelving off to the high, straight sides, yet wearing a very spectral look; as though your eye-by too long gazing-might start to life its half-forgotten rock. Old stools were there, worm-eaten, hacked, and rickety, yet dear to Miss Roby's ancient heart, from the spell of some cherished reminiscence. Chairs, with patchwork cushions of red and black camlet-frayed and faded, but which told their own eloquent stories: a-mother's and sisters' forms rocked to andfro in them long ago; a mother's and sisters' fingers- long since food for worms-had fashioned their diamond and octagon forms, and pressed them into service. There were wooden boxes of all sizes, full of odds and ends which no- body else wanted, but which 'Miss Roby prized; yellow, warped ivory combs, broken brushes, an empty box of black- ing, with the label, "British Lustre," smeared and torn, shrivelled ears of "pop-corn," rolls of gay calicoes "for piecing," small wooden bowls of- Shaker manufacture, bits of shattered looking-glasses, dilapidated school-books, and num- berless round tin boxes. From one of these latte r she whipped off the cover. It was nearly filled with pins, bright, straight and new, mixed with old, corroded, crooked monsters, and a sprinkling of black, tiny weapons. She plucked a few from her dress and added them to the stock, sententiously observing: "I never go by a pin, Rubiny Ann, without pickin' on it up; it's a sign ye'll never be rich if ye do. See! what a lot of 'em I git by this means. I hain't bought a pin in, I don't know when. I find- plenty, out doors and in; other folks's droppin's. And that ain't all, nuther. Now look there! 'Waste not, want not,' ye know. RUBINA. 118 For my part I believe in bein' prudent, and layin' up 'g'inst time o' need comes along." She removed another cover. I can allers find here the very identical button-I want for brother Jesse's pants, cut, or wes'cut." In truth, it, was a miscellaneous assemblage of brown, white, brass buttons, and covered moulds-all ripped from discarded clothing; very many with the threads of former service persistently clinging to their eyes--a taunting reminder in their present igno- minious state of dependence. "B'tween you and me, Rubiny Ann, the girls laugh at my savin' and prudence; but they're mighty glad to come to me for some on 'em, once in a while. There's jest the very thing now, for brother Jesse's galluses; I'll take that out while I think on't." Though certainly not an alluring companion, Miss Roby was, in her odd way, both social and kind. Observing me shiver, as I drew around me the ample quilts, she reached to the bed-post for her red flannel petticoat, to spread over me. I slyly pushed it back. "You're a dainty piece, Rubiny Ann, as ever the Lord let live," she growled under her teeth. ' My name is not Ann," I returned stoutly. "Yis 'tis, too; or oughter be," she insisted. "Wan't you named after your grand-marmt Lee, I'd like to know?" 'Yes! but my mother did not call me Ann," I returned. "Half a name ain't no name a' tall," she persisted, maliciously. "Her name was Rubiny Ann, so of course your'n is too." I disdained a reply; and in the long silence that ensued I was lapsing off to sleep most comfortably, when her- stentorian murmur again aroused me: "Be you sleepy, Rubiny Ann?" page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 RUBINA. "No!"I answered bravely, opening wide my eyes, and peering around the room to keep awake. As they became accustomed to the gloom, the objects they discerned looked strange and ghostly. Miss Roby's dresses hung around on pegs. As I looked at them intently, they seemed to move, swaying back and forth like living things. Her old black hood, from its lofty perch, nodded, and beckoned me to a like elevation. Her striped shawl fluttered proud defiance, and shook a tattered corner at me threateningly. Even the high infant's chair attempted a grand chassez with the cradle; and the cushioned rocking-chairs quivered omi- nously. These objects were not agreeable, I again closed my eyelids. "What a mum leetle piece you be!" remarked Miss Roby. "You don't like me, I guess, for I heerd you chatterin' like a magpie this afternoon, to sister Siny," I did not even offer a polite disclaimer. She appeared to resent my silence. "You take after your mother, Rubiny Ann; she wan't no great talker." "She never -ran when she heard company coming,? was my mental ejaculation. Miss Roby resumed-determined to unseal my lips-- "Your father, now, was a proper sociable body; he'd keep the hull room in a roar for hours upon a stretch----" "You knew him, then, Miss Roby," I eagerly interrupted. What's to hender my knowin' on him, I wonder 8 He lived round here nigh 'pon three dr four year-married here, you know." ("What sort of a man was he, Miss Roby? I mean, as he appeared to you." "Humph!" she growled, "a putty chap 'nough, if he'd RUBINA. 11 5 bin a likely one--which he wasn't. I s'pose you know that ere as well's the rest of us: he run away and left you, 'cause he and your mother didn't draw well together; served him right too," she whispered, savagely. "Yes," I responded, not quite understanding her allusion. "Strange! now,'" she went on after a pause, (' the rest all seem to overlook what's gone before; but somehow, for the life of me, I can't. Scriptur' doctrine does very well to plaster over old sores, with some; but with me they're dreadful apt to break out, arter a spell, as bad as ever. That are place where it speaks 'bout turnin' t'other cheek, if your enemy hits you a cuff on one, and lettin' him have the same chance ag'in, allers riled me consid'rable. I feel like givin' on 'em back, as good as they send, don't you now, Rubiny Ann?" - Yes!"I cried; laughing in spite of myself. ' "You'll laugh out the other corner of your mouth one of these days," she said solemnly. "I used to tell sister Sary that are, and it come true, too, arter a time. She was the liveliest of us all, and she'd laugh me right square in the face, when I tried to sober her down-dear heart! she grew sober 'nough finally, and then, Rubiny-see what strange creeturs we be-I'd a gi'n a new dime to a seen the old smiles come back ag'in." i' Tell me about her, Miss Roby, I'm not sleepy." "Nor I nuther. 'Wall, child, if-I do, you mustn't breathe a lisp on't to a soul down stairs. They wouldn't like it if they knew it, and I s'pose it- ain't much use rakin'-up old scores to live 'em over ag'in." "I never will tell," I solemnly repeated. "See't you don't; if you know when you're well off," she growled; then, after a moment's reflection, she resumed: t,* page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 RUBINA. "'You see, when your father come here, to set up shop down ' t'the Centre', he was a young man, fresh from college, nice lookin' too, and clever as the- day is long; and t'warn't a thousand year 'fore all our young gals was arter him all sorts; they all sot their best lookin' caps for him. He was 'cute 'nough to sense it too, and he jest jined in the fun. He driv all the other young fellers off the field, and he went with who he pleased-fust with one, then with t'other. Bam'bye he took to waitin' on sister Sary sort o' reg'lar, hum from singin' schools and junketts; and then he asked her for her com- pany, and ev'ry Sunday night arter that he set up with her. I allers thought she didn't set no great store by him at fast; she wanted to bother the other girls who all stood ready to snap him up at a mouthful. But he had a takin' way, and, arter a spell, she fairly sot her life by him: wouldn't hear no- body speak one word ag'inst him, in any shape whatever. She give Seth Field up here (Ben's father) the mitten on his a'count. You see he'd been shyin' round quite a spell-and he was as likely a lad as ever trod shoe-leather. He fairly worshipped the ground she trod on, and no wonder nuther, for sister Sary, in them days, wus -as handsome as a pictur; looked more like Siny than any the rest on us. She wus ruther rude, and rattle-headed sometimes, and brimful of mischief, but true as steel to any one she took a notion to. Wall, things run along so; and ev'ry body looked at it as a settled thing, and begun to joke-us 'bout the weddin'. Seth drew in his horns too, and to spite her, went off and married Lociny Sweet, down ' t'the Holler'; put his own eyes out, a tryin' to put out other people's. She's led him a dog's life on't all his days; makes him toe the mark, I tell you. He has to stay to hum and tend the baby, while she goes off to sowin' s'ciety, or t' the ' Female weekly mission meetin' for RUBINA. 117 heathen.' He has to git up and cook the breakfast 'fore he calls her; does the washing and churnin', and helps do chores gin'rally, when he aint nothin' else to see to. Its broke him down turrible. Wall, as I was sayin', we b'gun to git things together for sister, 'ginst the time she'd want 'em ; we'd keep askin' her when that was? She never made much of any an- swer, and we all thought 'twas cur'ous how bashful she'd be- come; but brother Jesse never would have her teased a mite, --You 'sleep, Rubiny Ann?" "No, indeed!"I cried, starting up. "I am listening. What came next, Miss Roby?" ( A weddin', child; but not sister's," she answered drear- ily. "' What'll you say, child, if I tell you that in all this time he'd courted her (over two years) he'd never'said one word'bout that "After a pause she resumed. "One beau- tiful spring mornin', Jesse come in from the barn, and beck- oned -me out in't the cheese-room: 'twas eighteen years ago come next May, but it don't seem half so long. He looked dreadful cut up 'bout something, and he hem'd and hawed ever so long, 'fore he finally got it out: 'Roby, Cornelus Brooks wus married last night, down to. Square Lee's, to Car'line. What d'you think of that?' Them's his very words. I never was so took aback in all my life. ' It can't be; brother Jesse,' I said, ' for he was here last Sunday night: he and Sary never had n6 fallin' out, I know.' ' I can't help that,' he answered. ' It's so, for Mr. Pierce jest went away from here; he come up to tell me: he said we ought to know of it. They've gone off t'the city, and I hope they'll stay there one spell. I'm a church member, sister, in good and regular standin'; I don't want to have hard feelin's to one of God's creeturs; but I do feel tempted to do somethin' awful. to that are man. I'm glad--for his page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 RUBINA. sake-he aint here.' I s'pose, mabby, I looked as if I would do somethin', for he said right off-- we'll leave him in God's hands, sister Roby. His sin will find him out yit'-and I tell ye it has, Rubiny." O "What did you do f"I asked eagerly. "Do! what could I do 8. Brother Jesse told- me, I must tell the rest, and have it over with; and he jest turned and went off t'the barn again, 'fore I could open my head. I can't b'gin to say how long I stood there. Jesse went to threshin' the barn floor with the -flail, as hard as he could. I knew he was a tryin' to work bff the chokin' feelin'. I'm 'fraid if he'd got sight o' that are man jest then, he'd a flayed him alive. Wall,. child, pretty soon Sary herself come out to see what kept me so long. We'd jest tore up for house- cleanin', and wus all in commotion. She looked like a June pink as she come out a singin' like a bobolink, though the tune was mournful like; I can hear it yit--"Miss Roby at- tempted to sing it: 'Twas down in the lowlan's, where Mary Ann did wander I Twas down in the lowlan's, where Mary Ann did roam I She belonged to this nation, she's lost her dear relation, Cries the poor fisherman's little gal, whose friends are dead and gone.' "Wall, it struck me kinder sad and sudden, and I bust out a cryin'. She stopped and looked scart. ' Why sister, what has happened?' says she, kinder thick. I never saw you cry before.'" "Well, Miss Roby ." I questioned, for she stopped and sighed several times. "Yis, child! I jest put my arms round her and said; 'Thank the Lord, you haint lost all your friends. I'm thankful on the whole that you've got red of the desateful RUBINA. 119 scamp.' Wall, she looked puzzleder than ever: she didn't see no drift at all, and- I jest had to speak right out plain. I'd a thousand deal ruther cut my little finger off, child. She didn't take it as I expected. She didn't faint awavy, nor scream, nor cry, nor nothin'. She jest turned white as- a ghost, never made no sound, only turned away from me, and went off t'the haymow, and there she stayed the whole blessed forenoon alone-none on us dared go anigh her; but she come into dinner jest as usual, and she worked like a slave the whole arternoon. We never said no more 'bout it 'fore her, nor she nuther to us. "The neighbors pryed and peeked round consid'rable. Some folks tried to make a great handle out of it; they said lots of things, but there wan't a word of truth in none of 'em; no livin' soul ever knowed jest how matters stood: she bore up so bravely, I wanted to break off with the whole Lee tribe; they'd used her so pizon mean'; but she wouldn't hear a word 'bout it, and so we jest came and went as before." "She died?"I ventured to ask. "Yis! Eighteen years ago," said Miss Roby, " she went' like all the rest. She wanted to go, and we couldn't ask her to stay in this troublesome world. She kep' sayin' over and over to herself, hours afore she dropped away,' Iwhere the weary are at rest.' It's on her tombstun; Jesse would have it on." "You must all hate me," I said soberly, after the excite- ment of hearing a story had vanished; and I reflected on the sorrow my father's conduct had brought to that peaceful roof. "Massy, no, child; what be you a thinkin' of? I never see brother Jesse so fond of ary child as he is of you. These things all happened ages ago, you know; and they'd be dreadful put out if they knew I'd told you." page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] RUBINA. * Still, the unwelcome thought hovered over me like a bird of ill omen; it brooded in the pauses of Miss Roby's stream of talk, poured now into inattentive ears; then, flapping its black wings, it scudded noiselessly out of the locked door, along the dark corridors, until it came to a room--opened wide. Was it my fatality to forever see that deserted room, with closed and open eyelids? thought I mournfully. It was no fancy, after all, which pade me feel her vanished presence. She was there: she herself opened the door for us to enter. Does she ordain me to do penance for a father's sin? Is the robe of retribution now enveloping his head, to extend its sable skirts over all these weary distances of time, space, and repentance, to reach my unparticipating knowledge? Yes! it was but implicitly vindicating the immutability of its own law. Iassented to its justice. My excited fancy was quick to pursue, to picture awaiting scenes in the future; How strange! thought I, that Miss Roby does not suspect this. Miss Roby would not easily have been led to entertain this idea; she would have scouted its wild impracticability; re- lentlessly pursued the gloomy fugitive, and finally laughed it down, as the essence of all that is ridiculous. In her sensible fancy floated no airy specks of doom, ripening to an impas- sable border land of morbid imaginings. Fact kept the cur- rent clear. The material was in her nature, too ponderous for these subtile threads of the spiritual to leave any definite trace of their workings. Sooth to say, her mere aspect, and one utterance in her stentorian tones, were enough to fright- en peacefully disposed nocturnal visitants back to their un- quiet rest. I could imagine her elevating that wide-frilled nightcap in grim composure, to scan closely the shadowy mystery; resting her chin in one hard palm, as she then se- renely opened a conversation with the spectral dame from Paradise. And the manner of this discourse, in which she would endeavor to " get the upper hand" of ghostly-ogic-- unawed, a little excited, but not in the least frightened-it all rushed over me so vividly that I laughed. This unlucky giggle started her bolt upright. "I don't, for the life of me, see nothin' to laugh at. It's what'll overtake all on us some day," she gruffly observed, evidently inferring my mirth was occasioned by her stories. I made no response, and she presently recommenced; flood- ing me with all manner of by-gone recollections. "Wall, now," she remarked, settling herself comfortably among the pillows,." I ain't no'b'liever at all in signs and wonders, and never thought much about them things, till ar- ter Phebe Besely was took down with canker-rash, though I'd allers heerd, from a child up, as many stories as'd stretch from Dan to Beersheba, 'bout this very thing. Poor Phebe was dreadful sick. They had a council of doctors for her, from all parts. Old Doctor Ray was here, from Chispa, to see her; but t'wan't no go. They all give her up, sooner or later, all but Doctor Lovejoy; he stuck to her till he see there warn't a grain o' hope she'd ever pick up agin, then he told 'em too. They wanted he should keep a tryin'; so he'd jest give her a leetle somethin' to ease her along.* She was fevery, and out of her head most of the time, ravin' crazy, as you may say. Her poor mother was most distracted. -Wall, child, she was struck with death four days afore she died; didn't sense no- body nor nothin'; eyes sot in her head, and her under-jaw had to be propped up to keep her mouth shet. I don't know but she'd a been in that condition yit, if I hadn't happened to run in there. -What to do they didn't know. You see they couldn't do nothin' for her, and 'twas awful to set and see her in sech a plight. Sister Zilpha'd been in that morn- page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 RUBINA. in, and she told me how she was. It was my week td do housework, but I told her ef she's a mind to wash up the supper-dishes I'd go in and watch, as I hadn't been over the door-sill in most a fortnit; so I did. It was a bitter cold night. I never see nobody change so as Mis' Besely had; she looked proper old, and as thin as a shad-most worn out a watchi4. She catched holt o' my hand the minute I sot foot in the entry, and says she, 'Roby, do see if there can't nothin' be done for that poor child in there,' and she bust out a cryin'. I went in, and Phebe lay there stupid like, and mournin' jest like a dove when she's pickin' one of her little ones to pieces. - I've often heerd 'em in the raft- ers, where they've nests, and it's the mournfullest sound in creation; 'twould most make a stun weep to hear 'em. "I stood there ever so long. All to once I happened to think. Says I: 'What sort of a bed is this ere, Miss Besely?' 'Why,' says she, 'don't you know a feather-bed, Roby, when you see it afore your face'n eyes P' "' What kind of feathers, I mean,' says I, goose feathers or hen's feathers 8' "'-Hen's feathers,' said she, looking kinder down'n the mouth. You see, Rubiny, they wan't very well-to-do in the world, and had to put up with sech .as they could git-' that's the reason she can't die,' said I to myself; 'it must come off short order;' and it did come off, and she jest dropped away as easy as a lamb. In less than an, hour I was sowin' on her shroud. -I won't have a hen's feather bed in the house, Ru- biny;" she presently added, "they're so soggy-like; it's 'nough to beat one all out to stir em' up ev'ry day. I tried that once, when I took care of Aunt Chloe, and I got tuck- ered out purty soon."7 I :expected to hear Aunt Chioe's'.history, and as that RUBINAl 123 would' doubtless suggest others, I anticipated an utterly sleepless night, but, fortunately, Miss Roby had talked herself into a :sleepy mood, and, pausing a little too long after this last sentence, some slumbrous weight obscured these memo- ries, and, clipping the tangled thread of narrative, left grate- ful silence. What a kindly magic lurks in sunshine's potent ray! Though I slept uneasily, and woke early-a fitful start, from direful dreams; though I hastily covered my poor silly head with the heavy bed-clothes, hushing my respiration, to listen anxiously for sound from above, denoting--I knew not what dreadful apparition--yet, with night's sombreness fled like- wise the tormenting host. A coward's evanescent courage returned with the first stray gleam of dawn, peeping at me from under the white cotton curtain's edge; its broadening smile routed aught of a timorous nature, and scattered it beyond recall. I dared lift --my flushed face from its burial in the smothering pillows. I -counted Miss Roby's antique garniture on their lofty pegs. I surveyed curiously the wondrous wall-paper, of wreathed bunches of scarlet-leaved poppies, alternating in rows, with strutting peacocks, elate- mortal like-with an empty-headed estimate of their own shallow importance and social magnitude. From the ceiling they likewise lifted their heads, and spread their gorgeous tails, the'poppies blooming most naturally on the same soil- less heights. Miss Roby suddenly stirred; awoke. "Bless me!" she ejaculated, rubbing open her eyes, and viewing me- rather surprisedly. "Do tell, if your peepers are open a'ready! I guess I kinder overslep' myself this mornin',? she added apologetically. She rose with alacrity. "I most forgot to ask you if you dreamt anything?" she said pres- ently; "-cause, you know what you dream in a strange page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 RUBINXA. room 'll surely come to pass-least-ways the dream-book says so." - - "I hope not!"I exclaimed, shuddering; " do you believe in. dreams, Miss Roby?" She paused in the act of inserting a leg in 'a blue woollen stocking, and eyed me curiously. "T'want pleasant then, I take it!" she slowly answered. "Dreams allers go by con- traries; if you dream of a funeral, it's a sure sign of a weddin'; and you can most gin'rally tell right off whose t'will be. There's Ira Purse now 's been steppin' up to your cousin 'Maudy long enough for't to end in one. I like to dream too o' clear water, it's a good sign; muddy water 's a sure sign o' trouble, and a white horse bodes death; but law!" she hurriedly added, as if ashamed to know even any thing of this mystic lore, "I never laid up nothin' long I dreamed of; no dependence to be put on 'em, you know." "Then you don't believe in them," I pertinaciously said. "Wall, no! I don know as I do," she answered doubtfully, and resuming her toilette, "though folks do have proper cur'ous notions in 'em sometimes; and it beats all, how real they be. Now there's a house I go to-in a dream-ev'ry little while. I never saw-one a bit like it anywheres else; but I've got so's I know ev'ry door and winder, and the rooms look as nat'ral as life." "Do you see any people in them?"I inquired. "Wall, now, that's the strangest part of the hull," she answered quickly, " sometimes it's as still and lonesome as a tomb; furnitur all piled up ready for movin', and not a soul to be seen. Then agin, there's a queer couple there- old country folks I should think. I never see no other faces but them two. The woman don't wear a dress like our'n; it's short, and a frill round the waist (and that is blue stuff) 125 ERUBINA 2 with a peaked bodice, and it's despit low in the neck: I wanted to take holt, and give it a yank where it onghter go, at first-the good-for-nothin' trollop-but I got used to it arter a few times-'specially as I found out she's a married woman. She's cumeely 'nough, too, Rubiny; but there's an -evil look on her face, and she watches her man proper close. lie is dark complected, with snappin' black eyes, and the whitest teeth I ever see; long and sharp, as I can make out when he smiles-I should'nt wonder now, Rubiny con tinued Miss Roby, leaning forward, and whispering impres- sively, " if he'd been a man-eater once." "Oh no! Miss Roby," said I, a trifle shocked. "That can't be, you know." "Wall," she said-her imaginative faculties at once sub- siding into their ordinary calm-"'tant real, you know, only seems so." She picked up her leathern shoe, turned it over, and zealously blew out the dust. ("Miss Roby," I said eagerly, "I went there last night. I know it's the very same house; the woman looked as you say, but--" "But what, child?" she said, smiling incredulously. I felt myself turn pale. "Oh 1 you won't believe it," I cried, "t but let me tell you what I saw there." ' Sartain," assented Miss Roby., i I saw that-woman walk the house from top to bottom, over and over again, and finally go to the open kitchen door and stand a long, long time gazing down the dusty road. I, too, went, and peeped over her shoulder, but she did not see me. At first I saw nothing; but, away off, I heard the faint rumble of W heels. They came in sight presently-a white horse drawing a red lumber wagon, in which sat a man, driving. He was singing, too, as he drew -up across .the page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 iEUBIA. road, in front of the barn door-a song in a strange tongue; I could not make out the words, but the voice was sweet and powerful. He sprang out, and began unharnessing the 'horse. As he turned his back full upon us, I heard a sound behind me, -vhich made me suddenly turn. There stood that same woman-her eyes ablaze with fury--holding in one hand a pistol, which was smoking and snapping, as if it longed to go off. I thought she was going to kill me, and started back, almost dead with fright. She never noticed me at all. She stood a moment ini the door; I heard her mutter something as she raised the weapon at the man opposite, and fired-not once, but a hundred, times. It seemed as if she would never stop. Even after she had flung it down-as if it burned her hand-it kept on firing. Then she -hastily picked it up, ran to the well, and dropped it in; but it never ceased firing, and it gurgled, as if a human being was drowning." "Did you see anything else?" queried Miss Roby, with a knowing nod. " Yes! the man staggered to the open door, and leaned against the .post. The woman came up to him quietly, with a satisfied look on her face, as though she had at last accom- plished a long-waited-for deed. He spoke to her mildly. She fiercely shook her head. I did not understand the words, but I could feel what they were sayirfg. He told her she would gain nothing; she would yet swing for it. She replied that she would first cut her own throat; and, walk- ing coolly away to the stove, she stirred a kettle of porridge. The man turned white as death. ' I ran and brought from a little bedroom its bed; I spread it on the kitchen floor. I got some pillows. The woman never saw me; she still stirred the porridge; but the man smiled into my face most 127 BUBeNA L gratef u lly. He laid himself d own ; covere him h a sheet." ,t What then i" aske d M iss R oby, eagerly. , Oh! then I awoke, cold, uncomfortable, and very'muc h frightened," I :answered. ,' Wall, child," said Miss Roby, solemnly,7' rye seenthat are, all acted o% jest so. I couldn't a described it better myself ; and I've seen more too. Yo u wok e too ay; b ut," she added, after a thoughtful pause, it's clear on my reckonin' how you should see it too ; I never tell no one m y dre ams. rm'fraid, child; we none on us knows too m uch bout this ere life of ourn. It's a prope r strange thing, a the best on't," she said, as we descended the winding stairs, apd entered the kitchen. CHAPTER X. Mss SINAI was busy with breakfast. The coffee steamed fragrantly from the quaint Britannia Urn, surrounded by a olony of pink and white cups and saucers; in each shallow cup rested a tiny silver spoon-the handle so slender, the bowl so diminutive, that it might well have been an heir- loom from ancestral fairies. .The maidenly initials on each shiel-liketp were, with nearly a century's use, almost ob- hidie-like top were, d ornameutead literated; a few faint whirls of tracery remained, ornamented along their lines with numberless dots, in which "M. S. werealmost lost sight of. These, my hostess signified with were almost . -o of one Mary Sinai gentle pride, were the, former property of one Mary Sinai Wade, her greatgrandmother, for wh part, h-- named. page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 RUBINA. The pewter platter this morning supported luscious slices of smoked ham, with eggs surrounding its. marge; and a "Johnny cake" was nearing the perfection of brownness on a shingle before the fire. Uncle Jesse entered) with a pail of sap from the maple grove, to use in our coffee, in lieu of sugar. He gave me a pleasant nod and smile, then stopped short. "Seems to me you look ruther pimpin' this mornin'," he said kindly; " guess you didn't sleep the best kind, did you, Miss Brooks?" "Miss Brooks, indeed!" chimed in Miss Sinai, quickly; "and that puts me in mind, Ruby, that you are just to call me Sinai in future. I am missed enough by other people." ("I can't afford to miss her; I think too much -of her," laughed her brother;) "unless," interrupted she, "you choose to adopt the sisterly prefix, like the rest of us. I mean to be your sister, Ruby." I could only pass my arm round her neck in a close ca- ress at this proof of kindness to a stranger, an orphan and- Miss Roby's story would unwelcomely thrust its visage be- fore me. Sinai stooped to inspect my face. "Oh! I know. what the matter is." She darted a questioning look at her sister Roby, who innocently returned the glance. "I see it plainly. I was afraid she'd talk the. child to death . Sister Roby never knows when to stop when she's once on a story- telling track." This she whispered to her brother, and he good-naturedly retorted: "Wall, you know 'twont answer to put out sister Roby, and she can steal a nap this fore- noon to make it up." The day sped delightfully. I visited the woods, where the sap was slowly gathering for the sugar-making. From massive trunks of maples, hoary with age, and' garnished with many a-scar, down slender wooden channels, the sweet RON . 129129 liquid dropp ed musically into witing pa ils, bow ls, pan s of t in, and from these wa s emptied into a huge caldron , whih smoked and steamed over a blaing fre of 'fragrant pine nots. anle esse supeam rintended it. It's comm ened to rn putty bravely , I tell you , Rub y, for this time o' ,year h e observed in the pauses of his labor . " Th is ere thaw is jest the right thin g to help it along: freeze nights and thaw days is what we want." , "Shall you m ake m uch"I queried innocently. H e struck the seamed tunk of the nearest tree with his horny palm. ',Can't tell, you see. All depends on this ere. I shouldn't wonder ef we did," he said, w ith a knowing twin- kle in his keen e es. "One year we ftched bot e hun- dered weight; that's putty fair for a small grove." "Isn't that nearly done ." I pointed to the boiling mass. lie I aughed. "I guess you dhanker arter some ont. Wall, when it's ready to sugar off I'll call you, and how ye how to eat it; don't one in fifty know hoall of He kept his word, some hours later. Rolling a ball o snow, he dipped it in the cooling sugar, and placed it before e, . tThere, Ruby, that's ood for sore mouthhe sad, ,Thea ta s olt gow, as {hough artlessly, watching me; tae rig you meant it. , chamed exile of pooe Towards sunet I retUrnea resore Crusoe. I vented a ludicrous sigh as whi ch Sa the voluhe to its musty nook in the desk, at bit herlip, torepres sa smile. I watched her, as she worked, bit her lip, to as flew in andoutof in the bright fire-light.. The shining rods ew in and out of the smooth, firm texture---clking faintly against each other sort of tune to the monotonus owofo ardedies. Insensibly, drowsiness assailed me, but I indignantly warded it ff, e 6* page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 - uBJWA. ing my dignity in some degree imperilled if I should be caught napping before my wide-awake seniors--that tena- cious dignity of a dozen years, which tries, so ludicrously to beholders, to suppress the ways of childhood and to ape the ways of womanhood. I opened my eyes unnaturally pwide, and rubbed them vigorously with the back of my hand, as I thought, quite unobserved. Another childish delusion. At the third repetition of this involuntary pantomime, Miss Sinai surprised the unwary sentinel. I was vanquished in my 6owa citadel. Almost, without knowing how or whither, I found myself tucked warmly into Miss Zilpha's high bed in a cosy room) on the first floor. Sinai bent over and kiss- ed me. "It's too bad," she said warmly, " going from pil- lar to post, in this fashion. I wanted you, but sister said it was her turn; but after to-night--" and she nodded her head smilingly. i"I shall charge her not to waken you," she added, as she drew a shawl around her shoulders, seated herself by my side, and softly knitted away, gazing at me meanwhile with good-humored fondness. My memory thus confusedly sketched her, ere it closed its portfolio for a dreamy ramble. I did not like Miss Zilpha. Her sisters'-- Sinai and Charity-pleasant attributes only rendered more conspicuous her lack thereof, amounting even to deformity, Even Miss Roby, gruff, uncouth, plain, and shy, was. thor- oughly kind-hearted. Not willingly would she have wronged a fly of its inheritance. Her character had a ma- licious aspect sometimes, but subsequent actions always proved it to have been only surface deep. She scorned hypocrisy; she never feigned a friendship she could not feel. Miss Zilpha was both plain and shy, with an unseason- able addition of selfishness, showing its face constantly in little things; conceit of her own mighty self, and -intense RUBBIN. 131 love for fault-finding and slander; she had other points scarcely more precious, but these shone in a prominent light. . Miss Roby revelled in gossip of former days ; but she never deliberately sat down to devise evil prophecies regard- ing her neighbors, to dart groundless insinuations into the fairest lives. Miss Zilpha frequently smote thus, with mew ciless zeal, merely because her nature was too warped to view the sunniest aspect of sayings and occurrences. She had a hard, stony look in her inflamed eyes, which her spec- tacles transformed into a species of sly cunning, not a whit more agreeable. This evening she entered her room, cau- tiously, I suppose, for I did not hear her. Why, then, did she approach the flame of the light she carried- so close to my face, that its warmth, mingled with her fetid breath, smote me into wakefulness 8 If that was her intention, she- accomplished it admirably. However, I purposely kept my lids closed, and as she turned from her survey I peeped from them covertly. She trod on tiptoe across the room, in a short, quick manner, making thrice the noise of her usual footfall. She opened her closet door, and gave a searching glance round its narrow interior, then under the valanced bed. Her maidenly nerves thus reassured, she opened the door into the hall, and peered cautiously down its dark space; afterwards closing, and placing -a chair-back against it -ai truly formidable barrier. I thought she never would have done with her nocturnal preparations, useless as they were; and she crowned them all by hanging a shoe on each tall bedpost, as a surety for pleasant dreams. No! she had not yet finished. She knelt at the bed's foot, for a short silent prayer. Trifles touch us in earlyy years sooner than a imiracle in lathr. The heart ossifies its emotions with growing knowl- page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 182 - IUBINA. edge and experience. That -mute, humble posture of the gray old woman woke in me a momentary thrill of pity for her infirmities, and of respect for the piety which it seems her breast harbored, as well as others, more worldly favored. This transient solemnity was completely dissipated by her subsequent action. "Prayers first, snuff afterwards,I ir- reverently muttered, as I watched the pungent incense, in mammoth pinches, rise to and disappear devoutly within its fore-ordained receptacle. She enjoyed it with relishing sighs, after which she shoved the box under her pillow, placed a clove in her mouth, mounted cautiously the creak- ing couch, and, in a few moments, was sound asleep. I lay, dreamily pondering many things; curious vestiges of impossibilities, which will flit vagrantly through imma- ture brains, and depart as speedily to make room for their successors. As I gazed at the suspended shoes on the bed- posts, to my astonishment, their owner calmly arose, tied them on, seized the unlit candle, and--displacing the guard- ing chair--opened the door. "Where are you going "I cried in dismay. She gave no heed, nor even appeared to hear me. I spoke once more; but she was now out of both sight and hearing. "Very likely she. has forgotten some- thing she will need in the morning, and has gone to seek it," I reasoned; but I thought it extremely odd that she did not light the candle. Noiselessly as she went, she re- turned, after a short absence, empty-handed of aught save the iron candlestick. This she deposited on exactly the same spot it stood before; she hung the shoes again in their former position, and crept into bed. If she slumbered, it was in the strangest form of this refreshing unconsciousness. A shimmer of starlight stole through the uncurtained win- dows;--a weak solution indeed-just sufficient to dispel utter RUBINA. 1883 gloom, and enable me to define certain objects. It showed me Miss Zilpha's face; always colorless, it now looked -of the hue of death, yellow and ghastly. Her eyes were opened wide, but she respired regularly. Presently she threw her ' hands up over her head, with an uneasy motion, and they remained close locked together. Her parted lips emitted a moan, as of a sufferer in some deadly peril. She straight- ened her limbs,- and- they remained so; the muscles tense and rigid. Always repulsive, she now looked doubly abhor- rent. I summoned enough courage, however, to endeavor to waken her, which seemed at first an impossible task. I shook her with all my strength, but it barely sufficed to turn her on one side, only, afterwards, to roll back like a log. This I thrice repeated; then I drew down her hands. They were cold as ice, and almost as hard. I vigorously con- quered my loathing, and -chafed them until my own fingers ached; she did not arouse, and she moaned still louder. I remember feeling a vague fear that she might be dying. I had heard and read of people being stricken as suddenly, and with this fear came also a thought of my own responsi- bility. I endeavored to pluck up a little needful spirit, to summon help, ere it prove too late. "Perhaps it already is," I whispered nervously, as I sprang to the floor, and made a desperate grasp at the candle. Then, either the coldness of the painted, carpetless floor, or my own cow- ardice, struck such a chill upon my unusual courage, that it all exhaled, and-still holding aloft the iron candlestick, as a trophy of my hardihood--I sprang again amid -the sheets. "Miss Zilpha," I cried bitterly, repeating and prolonging it, which she did not heed, and I had no hope of its reaching other ears; so many rooms intervening. Alas! I lacked the simple fortitude to slip hastily across those .rooms, and sum- % page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 184 RUBIrA. mon her brother, whose room was adjoining the invalid's; so I fell to shaking more energetically than before; one more vigorous roll than the others sent her beyond my con- trol, and over she tumbled to the hard, cold floor. I was both relieved and frightened at this unexpected result; frightened at first, but relieved when I saw her move feebly, then hastily rise, and rub her eyes in bewilderment. I drew a long breath,; "Oh! I am so glad," I cried, as she stared, first at the bed, then at the floor. "Massy to me! how'd I come here t" she asked, pres- ently resuming her rightful quarters. "I pushed you out," I replied. "You did, hey?" she said severely. "And what for, pray tell? It's mor'n half to own it; that's a fact." "Dear me! Miss Zilpha," I said hastily, " you acted so strangely. I thought you were dying. I spoke to you, then I shook you, and I suppose I pushed a trifle too hard." "Oh!' She seemed relieved. "I s'pse I had the night- mare. .It takes me powerful hard sometimes; seems so I's bound hand and foot, and couldn't stir for the -life of me sometimes I look up and see a lot of wild critturs all ready to spring at me, and I can't git out the way, nor holler, nor nothin'; and sometimes it's a crazy man on the tight run arter me, with a hatchet; and sometimes I'm .a goin' like a perfect harrycane; sometimes it's one consate and some- times a'nuther." "But you moaned, as if you were sick," I said. She looked surprised. "Did I? I didn't know's I made no sound. I'm glad- you woke me out of't, child, though I 'spect I'll be black and blue to pay for that are jounce. Sister Delia used to tell me, too," she went on, "that I walked in my sleep, but I allers thought RUBINA. that t'was some o' her gammon. I never remember cuttin' up any sech capers," she added confidentially. I told her of her walk thisnight. She laughed incredu- lously. "I guess you made that are up out o'whole cloth," she ironically retorted. , We'll see, now, if everything ain't jest's- I left it, to-morrow mornin'; and'twonldn't be, you know, if I did as you say." She spoke positively, and Ihad no desire to contradict. 44 This tellin' fibs is a dreadful bad practie," she resumed, severely, "leads to the gallers in the end. Strange, now, how some folks'll put up with seeh things I'veseen themthat thought 'twas all good milk por- ridge; but if I had children, 'd whip it out of em if there was a possibility I could." I kInew she was alluding to me, and I felt indignant at her base suspicions. I abhorred and dreaded a falsehood more than the whole catalogue of other sins. There is something so mnean, so abject, in the countenance of a liar; it singles him out at once from the rest of manlknd, and proclaims him decent only in solitude; fit for no other office than to serve as a world's opprobrious foothall; and were their pal- try bodies as elastic as their consciences, they would outlast, in this menial capacity, scores of generations. "Be you a Christian '." resumed my judge, , 'cause I t hink it's high time you was a thinkin' on sech matters, and ' layin' up treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth cor- rupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal.' That are's a mighty solemn question, child!" I felt a little sulky, and would not answer. She went on: i Now, I used to have sister Siny sleep with me when she was a little gal I used to be pestered in the das'bout sleepin', and I'd wake up Siny, and larn her the beautifulest hymns. She'd rouse right up, too, the minute I wanted her hym s Ehdrose T,, page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 BRUBINA. to, and say 'em all over as nice as ever you see. I remember one went like this-'twas mother's favorite." She struck up in a doleful key the following: "'There is a flower, a holy one; it blossoms in my path, It needs no dew or daily sun; nor falling showers it lath; It blooms as brightly in the storm, as on a cloudless day; It rears on high its humble form, when others fade away; When others fade away, when others fa-ade a-way.' "Know what that is, Ruby? Wall, listen now; the next varse'll tell you "'That plant is Faith; its holy leaves, reviving odors shed Upon the lonely place of grief, er mansions of thee-dead; God is its sun, its livin' light; an happy hour he lends, When silently in sorrer's night, religion's dew de-cends, Religion's de-ew de-cends; reli-gi-on's dew de-cends.' "Sister Siny was the -best behaved little gal ever you see; you don't come across no sech now-a-days. When Iwas young, children didn't know more'n everybody else; they're sassy 'nough now, goodness knows. Myr mother used to tell me I children must be seen and not heard!' and I was fool 'nough to believe it. I used to take Siny out with me, -when I went neighborin'; I'd put her in a chair, and tell her she mustn't stir. Law! she'd no more think o' gettin' up than as though she wan't made. She's a dreadfil cunnin' lit- tle thing. I remember once, I had to go over to the pond for a pail o' water-our cistern was dry-there wan't no one in the house, as it happened, but just us two, and I couldn't be bothered with her a taggin' along; she wan't but four year old; so I set her up in the high chair, and told her to fold her hands; now, says I, do you set there till I come back; if you don't, I'll cut ye in two. Wall, I asked if she'd RUBINA. 137 minded me, when I come back? 'Oh,' says she, as pert as ye please, 'some one knocked, and I jumped down and opened the door. It was lame Joyce, the peddler, and he took me up and kissed me, and set me up in my chair; and gave me this little tin cup!' "Annah' would have been dancing around the room," I said. "Most likely," she assented. "She's a good-natured little thing, when you've done set all, but a reg'lar fly-away; she wants holdin' in. Sister Siny was one of a thousand though. Let me see," she mused, " what was't I was goin' to say? it's slipt my mind intirely. Oh!" catching a clue, "I was goin'to tell you how we'd wake up in the night and count over names; did you ever do it?" "I don't know what you mean, Miss Zilpha." Wall, say we take Maria now for one," she explained- "you must think over all you know in town-by. that name, . and I'll keep count. There's Maria Reeve's one," pro- nounced Miss Zilpha, " and Maria Lovejoy's two"-'and so on, until she had sifted the village pretty thoroughly of those bearing that interesting cognomen. Then she suggested the Amandas, and afterwards the Albinas and Elizabeths-in- eluding the abbreviation Betsy-and Charlottes; also a timid census-taking of happily unconscious Davids, Thom- ases and Israels. Miss Zilpha's old heart leaped again to the tune of early recollections. Her repulsive frigidity thawed more and more. She vouchsafed towards me a more condescending familiarity, relating for my edification num- berless anecdotes of her sisters. I have an indistinct remem- brance, too, of feeling her arm inserting itself under my heavy head, to draw me in closer proximity to herself-an act of fondness I was too sleepy to repel, and which I was page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 RUBINA. glad of afterwards, if it gave her but a transitory pleasure. In my dreams our late intellectual exercise still pursued me. A panorama of -familiar faces glided past me; the entire vil- lage population loomed out in. solid phalanx; blithe lads and merry lasses, the blind, the sickly, the old and young, bear- ing huge placards of painted names, which I was serenely counting. CHAPTER XI. Ox our homeward drive, Uncle Jesse drew from his pocket a little package, neatly folded in brown paper: "This ere's for a gal called Ruby Brooks. You take keer of't, and when you light on that chick, jest toss it over to her." "A book!"I cried delightedly, feeling its shape through the wrappings; "how good of you, Uncle Jesse---!" "Don't know nothin' you're sayin'l'*' he interrupted; "I ain't noways 'countable for that are. Sister Siny slipped it into imy overcut pocket, jest's we come out of the porch, and whispered to me what to do with't. Now, don't go to thankin' on her, when you come acrost her; she won't like it. Here! you may's well take this in with you too, 'n divide it all r6und the board," and the good soul piled in my arms a huge cake of maple sugar. ' Oh! come in, Uncle Jesse." "I guess not!" lhe answered doubtfully. "T'aint egg- zactly friendly, I know, to sneak away agin so, but I see the domine in there, through the winder, and I ain't in jest the trim to scrape a 'quaintance with him; not that I mean to be proud," he added quickly, " but I may's well be trottin' RUBINA. 139 back. The gals feel ruther peaked to stay alone long; so many stragglers round about, you know, and Sister Zilpha allers was a spleeny piece. Good-bye!" he repeated kindly. "Come 'n see us agin afore a thousand year-Hallo there! leetle frolicsome," he suddenly shouted, as Annah came bounding down the-walk, with shouts of transport, Demis following, in but a trifle more sedate fashion, and Mark bring- ' ing up the rear. "You think you're hull-footed now, I 'spose," he said good-naturedly to the merry trio. - "Law! of she ain't dancing too. Wall, hum's hum arter all said and done; and dance away young creeturs; frolic to your heart's content, 'cause you're seein' you're happiest days now, and you don't know it." He checked a sigh, which action struck us in a fresh mirthful vein, and again we laughed. "Bless me! Uncle Jesse, I like to stay anywhere else bet- ter than at home. Then I can do a little bit as I like. Now, its 'Demis Dorothy Martin' (I hate middle names, don't you?) -I should think you'd be ashamed of yourself- most a young woman grown.' Law me! what's the use .'" continued Demis, peering into Uncle Jesse's puzzled and amused face, then-very unexpectedly to us-cutting an en- tirely orginal "pigeon wing" right in the face of the win- dow.. Two pair of horrified eyes gleamed from it, as I took a hasty survey. The sash lifted a little. "Come inter the house this minute, ef you can't behave yourself," screamed her mother's shrill tones, and she shut it with a bang. The wheels slowly craunched around, making deep ruts in the spongy soil. "I should like to bury my perplexed cranium in your garret, Mr. Warner, for-well, say a week or two," said Mark, rather gloomily. He commenced whistling to the impatient grays. "That's a nice bit of horse-flesh," he page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O RUBINA. . f - added, more cheerfully. Uncle Jesse, in turn, eyed him sharply. "I guess you'd be sick o' your bargain in less'n half that time, my lad," he put forth slowly; "them quarters was gin over t'the rats and- rubbish--to say nothin' of spooks and spiders; great black fellers's big's my fist-'fore even you come along. Now, my boy," he mused audibly, "what's to pay, I wonder? traces broke, eh? out o' joint a peg? don't hitch, mabbe, with strangers. I've heered mother tell the gals, oceans of times, that ' too many cooks spile the broth;' I guess there's a good deal in't too," he added, in the lowest of cautious voices, with sundry covert winks, for Mark's enlightenment. I threw Mark an astonished glance. A moment since he had been merry as a lark. ' I could not comprehend the sudden change to the extreme of soberness. Mr. Warner leaned his fat elbows on his fat knees, and seemed lost in thought, as he leisurely tapped the end of his riding-whip against his yellow teeth. He evidently ex- pected some answer to his -numerous surmises. Mark smiled in the dear old man's kind face; gave a comical twist of his mouth, and said--nothing. "Wall, wall!" observed Mr. Warner, carefully gathering up the reins, and turning in his seat to give a scrutinizing look at an approaching team, " that must be the deacon's pacer," he soliloquized softly, "by the way it siddle's along; I'll have to jog on, 'cause he can't turn out here. I was goin' to say," he addeid earnestly to Mark, " that the old home- stead's allers to hum. Come up any time. You can lodge in any room you take a notion to, and, furthermore, I'll give you as much maple-sweet as you can lay your jaws to." He drove off, softly humming the first bar of "Old Hun- dred." Mark slowly strolled up the opposite hill. RUBINA. 141 "Dear me!" whispered Demis, with a comical little sigh, as we stepped on the broad piazza. "Such a time as we've had, Ruby . I wish the new elder, that they made such a fuss over, was in Bungay.- Mark called him a lunk-head last night to mother, and she was so mad." She pinched my. arm to enjoin silence, as I was about to answer, for the door opened, and her mother's face looked out, fairly purple with suppressed wrath. She darted me a scornful- look. "Why don't you come in the house?" she asked sharply, " instid of hangin' out round it, like a sneak. Nobody won't harm you, I guess not, if you don't give 'em occasion," she fin- ished, sarcastically. Certainly this was not the greeting I had been picturing to myself, the livelong day. More than passive' kindness I never looked for, at any time, from my undemonstrative relative but this thrust was so unkind and uncalled for; I was so grieved and astonished, that I passed her by without answering. I looked back instinctively, to see her reach out her bony fingers at Demis, who lingered behind; she caught her by the arm and shook her roughly. "Let me catch you a cuttin' up sech didoes agin, if you dare," she fiercely whispered. ." Do you hear?". "Yes, marm," meekly answered Demis. "Wall, do you mean to mind your P's and Q's-that's what I want to know?" asked her incensed parent, treating her gratuitously to another impres- sive shake. Demis again dutifully responded, repressing a cry of fear and pain. "Right b'fore my face and eyes, and the new minister too. I'm mortified to death. You ought to have a guard- een put over ye," added her mother,*sternly-gradually re- laxing her hold, then finally suffering her to enter. Demis threw her apron over her head, and darted up stairs, sobbing bitterly. Annah patted softly away after her, page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 RUBINA. In the atmosphere of the kitchen some elements seemed strangely displaced; though, as far as housewifeiy went, all was perfection. Every separate article in it shone, from the effects of the usual Saturday's scrubbing. Uncle Joel sat by the stove, an unusual thoughtfulness on his rotund face. He eyed the coals awhile, ere looking up at me, as I went and stood by his chair; then he patted my head kind. ly, and an expression of real pleasure caressed his face; his eyes sought mine wistfully, but he said nothing. I followed Deborah into the pantry. "There's war in the wigwam," she muttered, with a cautious glance. She tried hard to muster a smile, but it was not at home, and made but a brief tarry--brief, indeed, for the most scrupu- lously genteel of such callers.- Used to her moods, I detected a scowl on her forehead, betokening displeasure; her thick lips, too, gathered in an ominous pucker. She was brimful to the muzzle of explosive matter, and waiting only an ignit- ing word for a commotion, such as frequently swept across her pathway, to ensue. Meanwhile the unconscious divine rocked- to and fro in "the keeping-room" alone, while the preparations for supper, under the sullen Deborah's care, were slowly progressing. The door was ajar. Through the narrow crack I stole peeps at the latest Northfield novelty, until my aunt's re-entrance to the kitchen warned me away. I bethought me then of the sugar, and produced it; at sight of which, the constraint visibly lessened its rigor, and -Uncle Jesse's donation received hearty encomiums, both on its su- perior quality and its generous size. It seems that the min- ister had an appreciative taste for the sweets of life, done up in this convenient shape; for, unasked, he came out to see it, at which Deborah sniffed irefully. She looked uncon- cernedly over his head, when he approached her with a -s - I RJUBINA. - 143 question. When, after a time, she lowered her optics to bear duly on his, and condescended sufficiently to reply, her answer was so indifferent, disrespectful, and widely short of the mark, that it evidently galled the parson to the quick. He retreated hastily from the table. Deborah had an incurable habit, when offended, of show- i ing her wrath in this and similar ways: in roundabout but pertinent questions, propounded with apparent innocence, but owning a malicious originator; in often totally omitting to answer a civil question--though, if you casually re- marked upon her growing deafness, she would retort, hotly, that " she could hear as well as she ever could, thank. hea- ven!"Often she would covertly uncover -the cause of her anger, by insinuating speeches, directed to any inanimate object in the room, but cutting keenly the one for whom they were launched. This unlucky evening the arrows flew thickly-guardedly, it is true, and abruptly ceasing whenever Aunt Rhoda-of whom she stood a little in awe--entered, or came within hearing distance. As it was Saturday evening, all work was suspended after tea-the family Bible brought into prominent service, while the members alternately read a selected portion of its im- mortal history-usually the familiar story of Samuel or Jo- seph, or, perchance, the exploits and death of the strong man among the scoffing Philistines. On Saturday evenings we were expected to retire early. -Going to my room this night, after these exercises, I found Demis musing dreamily by the open window. I commenced to rally her on her taste for solitude. She answered me abstractedly. "And you got specially mentioned in prayers too," I went on, gravely. To my surprise, she burst into tears, impetuouslywaving page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] I- 44 RUBINBA. me back when I approached to console her. She gasped, and sobbed hysterically. "I hate the weasen-faced, red- haired little puppet above ground," she cried vehement. ly. - "He has no business to burn up Mark's pictures, as he does." Seeing my puzzled look, she hastened to explain, between her sobs, how the minister incited her mother to destroy Mark's sketches--calling them " temptations of the evil one"-as the only way to turn his inclinations to the ministry. She described the scene which followed, with a burst of indignation, and frequent ejaculations of hatred to the instigator. "And what did Mark say?"I asked. "Not a'word. He has got beyond talking, I think. He put away his brushes and pencils, and locked them up." "Where is Amanda? I hardly missed her, she isolated herself so completely from the family." "She went up to see Olive this afternoon. 'She hasn't any feeling. She sides right in, against Mark; says 'it's good enough for him; he must be sick, to care so for his daubs, useless things as they are."' She closed her lips- with scornful emphasis. CHAPTER XII. THE Rev. Silas Fuller was a dapper little man, spry as a youthful cricket, and seldom as long quiet. He squinted horribly, therefore wore spectacles--gold-bowed ones- which produced a profound impression upon his congrega- tion, and helped decidedly toward -their conversion. His gait was rather peculiar-midway between a walk and a RUBINA., 145 trot, as though he was perpetually trying to keep even pace with some invisible longer-striding companion. That he ever stumbled into the pastoral office was the great mistake of his life. Such are not the men whom Nature selects, as rightful generals over armies of pilgrim souls. -She does not so maltreat her offspring, by sending them, as teacher, a narrow mind, a hopeless bigot, a pretentious dunce. But here he was, in all his self-styled glory; his dapper head fitting to his dapper body, by a slender isthmus of neck, which revolved, like an inquisitive weather-vane, for a per- petual survey. We have seen such men before; the type is not uncommon; and their outward seeming is, to a certain extent, a sure index of their mind. The brisk little white- washer, who comes, on sunshiny days, during the troublous reign of the annual spring-cleaning freshet, with his brushes and bucket of lime, belongs to this fraternity. How he flies around the barrel of slacking lime, peeping needlessly into the hissing, steaming mass! How nimbly he mounts his stool! How deprecatingly he absorbs praises from the gratified, smiling mistress, as the smeared smoky surface leisurely grows into .one of purest white.! How anxiously he sucks his nether lip, when perverse drops fall from the uplifted brush, and spatter the bare, scoured floor! If fa- miliar with the regions, how briskly he trots away for a towel, wherewith to remove the spots, as footsteps approach the door! How admirably he flatters fretful housewives and dodges the impending fault-finding! And for all these virtuous qualities, he remains to the last only "a clever lit- tle man enough." And the dapper clerk. How spotless in attire! how un- fledged in looks and knowledge! what commercial verbosi-. ty! what an enormous seal ring--not to speak lightly of 7 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 RUBI NA. carbuncle studs and the massive watch-guard; what salaried arguments melt into persuasive smirks, and smooth the path- way of free trade! Then there is the dapper doctor, in the first stages of incipient manhood-where he always remains; with school erudition swelling dangerously in his plastic mind. How pompous his strut! how scrupulously he embellishes the most ordinary chit-chat with staggering medical expletives! He lugs about him, as companions to these-unswerving in their fond allegiance-marvellous reminiscences of " what I' did in college! among the Fresh', you know," how *adroitly "I fooled the prex, an old fogy, you- know." They are -where he lingers long-familiar as "household words." "M. D." wreathes itself indisputably round his pretty whale- bone stick, which swings luxuriantly to and fro from his kid- gloved fingers, with a hop, skip, and a jump, and an occa- sional dexterous summersault. Then, in fits of thoughtful abstraction as he walks the streets, it knocks its head medi- tatively on his teeth, or curls up comfortably under his arm, like the unwelcome umbrella, which one is compelled to carry on an April day, when, though the sun smiles, it cannot hide the treacherous thunder heads in the west; in fact, it assumes fifty different quirls and modifications, but a profes- sional cane it remains for all that. One would think it mes- merized, in a manner, as, apparently of its own accord, in its masters most absorbed moments, you may still see it keep- ing up its gymnastic feats-leaping franticly in mid-air, sway. iug softly by his side, or peacefully keeping time to the brisk pit-pat of his little shining boots. Witness the thrust of this M. D.'s fingers through his locks--which exhale an odor stronger than agreeable, of whipped lard, scented with ber- gamot--ere approaching a patient's bedside; and the un- RUBINA 147 varying smirk on his downy lip, as he counts the wrist's pul- sations, or desires him to thrust out his tongue; and the lofty erection of the medical brain, as he hands the nurse a powder,'with the usual solemn injunction, t' It'must be taken precisely at the moment, sleeping or waking, or I'll not be re- sponsible for the consequences." This is the physician whose fraternal sympathy for the sufferings 'of the whole human race you can pack away conveniently in a filbert-shell, with ample room for a counterpart. He grins delightedly at the accession of a new patient; and, if the disease is contagious, " thinks there is no need to exclude from the'sick-room" the other members of the family. "Be careful, and there's not the slightest danger (but that you'll take it), he subjoins mentally. He is never puzzled at any unusual developments of the disease; consequently he rejects, with a touch of in- sulted dignity, all anxious suggestions of "counsel." He gloats over surgical operations as a legitimate field for ex- periment, and stands ready to amputate all, your limbs, or your head either, at but a hint from hlis precocious instinct, "for fear mortification'll set in." And at the crisis of your earthly fate, when your life quivers eager, yet reluctant, be- twixt two worlds, and a rude sound may decide the delicately poised scale, he walks cooly to the window, and taps airily on its sash, or enjoys, with keen relish, a lunch in the chim- ney corner. The physique of the dapper minister is not one whit more alluring; and the same extraordinary assurance supplies but poorly the constitutional deficit of mental ballast; the same arrogant egotism lifts him to a preponderance of power, wit, and learning in his own eyes, as, with rolling eyes, affected speech, and agonizing gestures, he paints yawning pits at the pulpit's foot, with pious incantations, filling them to the brim page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 RUBINA. with the summarily selected, writhing, never-to-be reprieved or pardoned black sheep of 'God's immortal fold. Then, by a mysterious twist of saintly logic, he transports the compla- cent "believers"--the paying portion of his congregation tacitly included-himself at their head, into the New Jerusa- lem, claiming them, of course, for " gems in the crown of his rejoicing." A comfortable enough doctrine for the blessed white sheep, if they can forego all human feelings of pity for their unhappy brothers and sisters below. Is heavenly pity more- merciless than earthly? and will not sore disappoint- ments await some of us at the judgment-seat? How w-ill our pettiness quail and. shrink appalled into involuntary self- condemnation, as the record of nobler deeds, purer lives, than ours by far-unknown to us on earth-lift those we rigor- ously sentence, condemn, here, above us there, in an inacces- sible niche of reward. A quiet little text in holy writ tells us that " the first shall be last; and the last first." However, it is not of the Rev. Silas Fuller in the pulpit, who comes under noticcenow, but when he doffed his ludi- crous attempts at ministerial dignity, with his glib sermon recitation, aind descended from his vainglorious stilts to mingle familiarly with his plain farmer laymen. Deborah, after one week's trial of his company, lost her patience, and never afterward recovered it. She scornfully dubbed him "Miss Nancy"-a cognomen she spread far and wide among her clique of acquaintance, when, in the dusk of evening, she threw her checked shawl over her gray head, and went "neighboring." She declared roundly, one morning, that "he needn't think to come it on her in that shape; she knew when she's imposed upon, as well's the next one, and she wan't goin' to put up with't much longer, nether." "Why, not put up with our minister?" inquired Demis. RUBINA. - 149 c" No, indeed!" she snapped out; " he's the nearest nothin' ever I see, if he does hail from Boston; he treats folks pizon mean, I think, and if this's the way he's goin' to carry on, I for one'll quit. - I never was used to no sech doin's," she pursued hotly, a flush mounting to her gray cheek. "He marches right into my room mornin's, without leave or license, and opens the winder, jest's soon as I come down stairs; no. matter how cold 'tis, or if it's rainin' pitchforks. When I go up to make my bed, I'm sure to find it open. I put a fork over the latch one day, and stole out'f the clothes-press door; didn't make a mite of no difference; he found that are out, and I found my winder open jest the same. I declare for't I won't stan' it! Pll settle his hash for him !" she screamed shrilly. "He wants the house well ventilated," put in Mark, archly; his eyes twinkling with fun. " To tell the truth, I caught him at his tricks, with the girls' window,.this morn- ing, and I ordered him out in such a tone that I think he'll stay out one while. I told him, moreover, that hospitality_ had bounds, even for a minister." " Why, Mark !" exclaimed Demis, delightedly. "I declare, my boy ! I'll make you a batch of Injun pan- cakes for that are, and a spongecake too, for ye to whet your bill upon," said Deborah, with the broadest of smiles. She chuckled softly to herself at intervals; and when she spoke again, it was in a greatly mollified tone. ' It's cur'ous~ now, to see the way he manages; ift didn't put me so des- p'rate out o' sorts, I should laugh ready to split. He allers gits up 'arly, and he'll be down here 'bout as soon as I be, a hangin' round to see me git breakfast, and a puttin' in his oar ev'ry time Mrs. Martin tells me anythin' to do. Then, ag'in,-he seems to think he knows mor'n ev'rybody else- page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 - RUBINA. jest as if I hadn't cooked all my life, ever since I's knee high to a toad. He says the coffee hadn't oughter bile up but jest three times; it's spiled if't does; and he'll twitch it off on't the h'arth, if I aint lookin'. I have to watch the crittur as close! Wall, when he does so, I'll put it back ag'in; and -you never see nothin' to beat it--he'll set as oneasy on his cheer; and the fust time my back's turned, off he whopps it ag'in. Now, if that's Christian, I don't want nothin' to do with it." ' I saw him directing you how to-cook fish, yesterday," remarked Mark, mischievously, thus starting her on a fresh track. Debby flushed up again. "Yes! he stuck to't that it must be cooked jest so many minutes, whether or no, and he tuk out his watch to keep count. I told him I allers let it bile till 'twas done, minutes or no minutes, and, furthermore, that I guessed I knew 'nough yit to tell when 'twas done, without none o' his watches. Wall, he was real muley, and insisted his was the right way to have it healthy; so, for once, I thought I'd humor him." Debby tossed her head scornfully. "He told me when to turn it over, and I turned it over; and he told me when to take it out, and I took it out. What'd I gain by it, I want to know? Come dinner-time, Mrs. Mar- tin scolded terrible 'bout the raw fish; wondered how'n the name of common sense I come to be so heedless, and all that; and when I told her 'twas'cooked 'cordin' to orders, she shortly told me to cook it over ag'in. Wall, I took off a piece for Elder Fuller 'fore I put it back int' the spider, for, says I to your mother, ' he likes it so, it's so powerful healthy.' Now, if you'll b'lieve me, he didn't- eat a morsel on't it. I see which way the wind Sblew. Says I, '.Elder, you don't fall to much; what's the matter with it You RUIBBINA. 151 don't seem to be very fishy this meal; don't be 'fraid on't; it's clean." "Yes!" interrupted Demis, mimicking his mincing tones. "My good friend, a half minute longer would have brought it to perfection." "It's all minutes with him," added Debby, with a sigh. "I wish he'd clear out and leave the sapworks, for my part.' I believe the good soul regarded him, sometimes, in the light of a trial, sent to inculcate patience. There was a good deal of reason for her complaints; he fairly persecuted her with eternal suggestions, infesting cupboard, buttery, and dairy, at all hours, with the pertinacity of a hound. There was no domestic office-even to the trimming of a lamp- which he could not show one to perform .in a better way; and though Aunt Rhoda was, as Debby quaintly phrased it, "all clear quill with the Parson," I sometimes thought she heartily wished the end of his tarry would come. One .Monday morning he hovered zealously around the wash-tub, where Debby was busily rubbing. He :peeped into the pounding-barrel, and observed: "Clothes only need pounding five minutes; it answers the same purpose as a longer time, .and does not wear them as much. That you must. perceive, my friend; though-you must allow me to say-I never met a female, before you, so bigoted to old ways, so extremely difficult to convince of rational changes." "Don't call me your friend," retorted Debby, calmly. "I'm pesky 'fraid I aint, and I'll 'low you to say any thin' that weighs on your mind. Speak right out in covenant meetin', I say, if you've got any thin' special, 'cause, you know, Elder, that bym'bye comes my turn." "I cannot help feeling a human interest in the labors of page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 RUBINA. women, and endeavoring, as far as possible, to alleviate them," he philanthropically remarked:. "I know the views which some of my clerical brethren entertain; but I don't consider it at all derogatory to my dignity to help my wife." "The wimmin's much obleeged to ye, I'm sure; but they hope you won't put yourself out the way none to 'leviate them," answered Debby, demurely proceeding with her work; " though, I must say, I'm proper glad on't, if you do take holt to give your wife a lift; she's a weakly body, I've heerd tell." "Now, Miss Deborah," he pursued, briskly, " let me con- vince you of the superiority of my plan; you pound, if you please, and I'll keep count, five minutes, and we will see if the clothes are not quite as clean as when -you pound an half hour, wasting your strength needlessly." "T Nay! you pound, and I IIl keep count; I'll rest me a bit," proposed Debby, hastily slapping her suds-covered hands on the washboard, with such unction that the foam flew in the Elder's face; she wiped them on her woollen apron, and reached out for the watch.- The abashed divine colored a little, but reluctantly handed it over, and grasped the pounder. Mark cautiously opened the keeping-room door, and peeped out, brimful of laughter, at this reversion of proceed- inga . "What if mother should come in now and spoil the fun? she always does," whispered Demis, as Annah tottered up to the perspiring church functionary, and asked him, inno. cently, " if Debby mustn't pray for him if he worked for her.: 'He pounded vigorously. "Mir good friend, I think it RUBINA. 153 must be five minutes," he said at last, pausing to wipe his streaming forehead. "Oh, massy, no!" answered she, looking down at the watch, "it lacks some time on't yit. You go too hard," she added, you'll tucker yourself all out, at this rate." "Never fear," he replied, resuming his labor. Debby turned round with an expressive gesture, signifying "she'd got him there; and there she meant to keep him one spell." "By Jove! that's the richest thing I've seen," ejaculated Mark, taking extraordinary attitudes to retain his laughter. He also began a series of eloquent gesticulations to Demis for paper and pencil, wherewith to sketch the. scene, when the door opened, and Aunt Rhoda entered. She stopped short before the tableau, glancing suspiciously at Deborah, who bore the scrutiny with apparent unconcern. "What's all this?" asked aunt, sharply. \ "Dear me, sus," said Debby cosily, "he's a showin' me how to wash. That's all. Nothin' to make a fuss about, is there?" "Oh i" returned her mistress, unconcernedly, as she passed P on. "Now, my friend, please tell me the time!" again de- manded the little washerman. He looked around inquir- ingly, showing ls a face of the color of a beet, and deluged with perspiration. "Wall," replied Debby, " it's near 'nough to five minutes, I guess; but do you s'pose them are pounded enough? Hadn't we better make sure on't?" "Oh! I'll warrant those," he rejoined glibly; and he ran to the towel and dried his hands. Debbyj restored his watch. He colored to the temples as he glanced at it; then turned as page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 RUBINA. white. "You've deceived me," he angrily cried ; "I have pounded fifteen minutes!" "Wall," rather sharply retorted Debby, '"I wan't goin' to hang out dirty clothes for you, nor no man livin'. I guess they hain't took no hurt by a' few extra rubs. That's 'bout the time'l allers give 'em, though I must' say I never meas- ured it afore." "Ah! you are more difficult to manage than my wife," he returned. "She is willing to hear to reason." "I pity her!" said Debby, shaking her head, "I do, in- deed, from the bottom of my soul. She's a dreadful afflicted creetur, I b'gin to think." "How so, madam?" he inquired, waxing wroth. "In what- respect, pray?" and he endeavored to look at her steinly. But Debby had suddenly grown deaf. She resumed her in- terrupted rubbing, without even looking up to catch the withering fire-fly gleam from the insulted parson's small, yel- lowish-blue eyes. "I think you'd a made a heap better hand-to a hired out for housework than you be for preachin', though I don't want hide nor hair on ye for either," she muttered, as he picked up his hat and cane, and went out to air his vexation. "I declare, children, I made somethin' out on't arter all," she presently said, putting her frowsy head in the keeping- room. "I ain't his 'good friiend'. no longer, I'm 'madam,' and-don't say nothin'-I'll fetch him to his porridge afore I've done with him." But though this uncivil warfare was persistently waged, -with extremely short intervals of peace, by these unequally matched combatants; though domestic quiet was attacked, routed, and sent flying almost daily-affording ample amuse- ment to at least three of the household-yet the inasculine RUBINA. * j; citadel showed no signs of surrender. The solitary garrison never arrived at that point of submissive obedience so hope- fully anticipated by his feminine enemy. He was never forced by penitential hunger toward the "bowl of porridge" in waiting store for him; for, to her chagrin, defeated on ione field, he invariably returned to fight loyally onL another. Humiliated by his ancient foe he often was; but, to do the little man justice, he seldom bore malice longer than one entire day, and he seemed utterly unconscious that his interfering habits were at all unusual, impertinent, or offensive to pre- siding domestic geniuses; that they were derogatory to min- isterial dignity, or irritating to dominant New England inde- pendence of spirit. Deborah was in error from the beginning, in spreading abroad, among the members of his flock, grossly indignant bulletins of his odd doings. Her listeners were amused, edified, and curious to absorb her recitals, but'ex- tremely cautious -about supplanting her in her position. They suppressed all invitations to sojourn with them longer than to assist at an ordinary afternoon tea-drinking; and as it is no part of a hospitable host or hostess to hint of an unwel- come prolongation of a visiting term, and as he seemed well content with his quarters, he remained'-Deborah's tormentor. Uncle Joel was a conscientious church member, and so full of charity towards every one, that he tried to be lenient to all shortcomings of those both in and out of the sacred en- closure; but it is doubtful if he ever perceived the elder's failings. An odd mixture of the simple and reverential prer- vaded his whole nature. He was often obtuse to that which deeply touched others; to the most ludicrous of human manifestations; and to the plainest of logical perceptions he remained mute and inattentive. But in recompense for this deficiency, if such it was, he had dreamy apprehensions of . page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] RUBINA. feelings and thoughts immeasurably exalting. When these outlines-dim at best to the wisest and purest-were reveal- ed to him, his soul shook off its petrifying slumbers, and stood out, ardently worshipping. Then, and then only, he was strong enough to breast the waves of scornful defiance, and ridicule of his intuition. He was a good man and a sin- cere Christian, though doctrine puzzled his simple brain sorely, and election and foreordination were logs over which he stumbled, and for that reason usually avoided in his spir- itual travels. He peered curiously sometimes at his new spiritual guide, as if vaguely seeking to discover by his coun- tenance the perplexing source of an ever haunting deficiency. He looked distressed at Deborah's abrupt parrying of the elder's thrusts at her cherished country ways, and sighed at her unhesitating retorts when criticised by the elder in his cold, wiry tones, but he never once ventured to check her. However, there comes an end to all things. In accord- ance with this universally conceded law, there came a close to this visit. May flowers were blooming in forest hollows, when the much-vaunted patient wife came among us, bring- ing all necessary equipments for housekeeping. It was a blessed day for Debby; and her eyes fairly sparkled when he bade her a civil farewell. She dropped a courtesy, and handed him from the pantry a good-sized bundle of pies, neatly wrapped in towels of her own spinning, weaving, and bleaching, for a parting gift, with'the curt observation: "Wall, Elder, forgive and forgit's the motter in this ere world, and I don't lay up nothing 'g'inst nobody. I hope ye'll find them pies eatable; though I didn't make 'em 'zactly as you said I oughter ;" and she then discreetly withdrew. Strange promptings of the affections, prejudices, and an- tipathies lead and rule us unaccountably. Several days later, when the minister's daughter-sweet, -rosy, merry Kitty--came to see us, Debby conceived a violent fancy for her; and as peculiar a friendship dawned between the two, a~ existed hatred between herself and Kittys sire. CHAPTER XIII. THREE years weave many changes. Light and shadow trail along their web and woof. In this short period, not a human heart, pulsating with life, but which erects and de- molishes a hope, a fear; not one, fully awakened, but which smiles with newly born blessedness, or pales and quivers in. the throes of mortal agony. Their imperceptible develop- ment transforms crude childhood into serene, conscious youth. Youth ripens into the mellow flush of early manhood. Age gathers an added wrinkle; and a village history a few more chronicles. But, after all, old landmarks along life's high- way seem not materially displaced or obscured. Miss Char- ity's rule in the schoolroom is temporarily abandoned. She is suffering from a cough-" slight," she calls it; she thinks "she caught cold the day, of the funeral'-which was chilly and rainy-and an edict has gone forth from Miss Roby, that !there's no two ways about it; she's got to stay to hum a spell and doctor it up." In the great warm mansion there is another silent corner; another soul has reluctantly exchanged incompleteness for fruition and tearfully groped heavenward; another grave swells the group in the green meadow ceme- tery. Miss Lucretia sleeps the dead's dreamless slumber. The final rupture of the golden bowl occurred but a few weeks since. A lengthened scene of suffering fell to her lot, but the silver cord is loosed at last, and in its wake follows divine. page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 168 RUBINSA peace.: The day after the burial, I strolled with Demis and Eitty to her grave. It was summer; but no sods cov- ered it. All around lurked luxuriant, green, uniformity. The waving grass almost concealed the shape of the surrounding mounds rendering this new corner more sadly revolting. This high round mass of yellow gravel, belched from depths un- der blooming verdure by the stolid sexton's spade, with por- tions of its surface crumbling off, and rolling down to hide in the weeds at its feet! In looking at a new-made grave there seems no reliable evidence of immortality. Faith strug- gles to believe, and tries assiduously to render into consoling practice, her doctrines; but the bare cold earth, speaking so eloquently of the silence of desolation, blankly refutes them all. We gaze; instead, into the hopeless vault of our dear buried love. Itstares at us so unanswerably. We are dumb before its mute logic. But when noiseless battalions of un- seen forces have crowned it with affinity to nature; when seed-times'and harvests have bloomed, and waned over it, and constant vigils of our-common mother have bathed it in resignation, then our scattered senses reunite and rend the veil, and we catch a bright view of the immortal life beyond. And hope grows anew, that in the hush of recent sorrow lay cold and torpid. Then we begin to realize that we have but planted the seed in that green flower-crowned mound, or rather the useless husk of the seed, germinating in death; its flowers smiling for us beyond the stars. :'Now Faith's prophetic eye springs upward, into invisible but not unfamiliar realms.' Demis and I 4ave been drafted into household duties, and may consider our schooldays ended. I am sorry; and so is she. We are just beginning to love study; to appreciate its importance; but we cannot help ourselves.. Her mother is generalissimo of the household forces, and she says sharply, RUBIiN:i 159 that, ' when. one can read, write, and cypher to the Rule o' Three in 'Rethmetic, with 'nough Jography to bound the States, and Parsei', so's not to make no mistakes in talking; that's eddication a plenty in her opinion: it's all she had, and what answered for her'll answer for other folks." Besides this fiat, the committee issued another at the annual "school meetin'," and Uncle Joel came home from it with the an- nouncement, that, being over fifteen, we could " draw no more public money." "Whose notion is that, I wonder i?" cried Debby, who was vigorously rocking' Annah in 'a kitchen chair, and pensively humming, "Hi, Biddy Martin." "Lawyer Prince first started the idea, I b'lieve ;they're goin' to hire a man teacher, too, for the winter," he placidly returned. The committee came down soon after, to engage Mark, but he unhesitatingly declined; whereat his mother looked much displeased, and his father as much bewildered. "Why not make a ventur' at it, my boy?" inquired Uncle Joel, raising his head after a long-survey of the glowing fire. "I think it'll be a good sight easier than helpin' me haul out lumber this winter, and I'm sure your larnin' need'nt stand in the way." ' Wall, all I have to say is, I think it's high time you was settling on somethin' or other; you don't earn the salt to your porridge," put in his mother, a good deal nettled at his prompt refusal, " and sixteen dollars a month don't grow on every bush, let me tell you!" "I dont b'lieve I should like teachin'," saidis father, slowly. "Stuff!" cried Aunt Rhody; "Joel Martin, you don't know what you're talkin' about, you haint never tried it.'" She put down her knitting and steadily regarded him, un- til she appeared to consider him sufficiently awed to page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] !tfV RUBINA. keep silence, after which she resumed her work and argu- ment. Mark interrupted her. "I tried it a week for Ned Pea. body. He was down with the mumps,- and I'll not try it again."' "Do tell!" exclaimed Deborah, in a pitying tone. "I wonder if lie tried a mustard poultice; though some do say that slipp'ry elem is better l" CHAPTER XIV. IT was Monday morning. All in our little household were astir long ere the stars waned, clear and cold, from the west- erm horizon. "Wall," said Deborah, pushing back from the breakfast-table, and putting her chair plump against the wall with an energetic snap, that made the listing quiver, "I s'pose that are washin's got to be did, so the sooner I tackle it the better," , "Yis," assented Aunt Rhoda, "and Demis you put over the fat-kittle, and then go up chamber and help 'Mandy sweep up. You know the teacher's cornin' to board to-night-- there's oceans to do. Flax right round now, and see how ,smart you can be, if you've a mind to. Now Ruby, you may mix up some doughnuts, and when the fat's hot I'll fry 'em." She closed, and sealed these rapid orders with one of her characteristic "hemsr" which, lest you may not translate aright, I may say, meant instant obedience. No lingering of a moment; no foolish chat on the stairway; scattering rem- nants ofjest and laughter, which pleasurably season the scene of labor. When we worked in Aunt Rhoda's presence, all must be grim determination. Much talking provoked her ire. RUBINA. 161 She affirmed that "it made us heedless, and she wanted us to b'gin to appear like folks." If she surprised us in a merry mood, she instantly assumed a shocked visage, dolefully in- quiring " if we knew which end we stood on 2" u' Mother!" said Demis some hours later, as, her sweeping finished, she stood by the door with a basket of damp clothes in her arms to be hung on the line outside, " seems to me Amanda's mighty chipper lately; shouldn't wonder if we had a wedding here before long. High time, I think. I won't wait seven years for a Laban." No one replied. Her mother raised a'flushed face from the hissing kettle, in which were slowly browning great puffy twists of lightness, emitting a strong odor of cinnamon. She stood fork in hand, turning them rapidly over, that both sides might take on exactly the same hue. Occasionally she favored me with critical glances and sharp irritated expostulations, as I vigorously rolled out the soft dough, conscientiously trying to imitate precisely her own method of doing up the long spirals into just the right shape. It was a hopeless task. She found fault assiduously, from time to time throwing out hints 1" that no one in that house tried to please her, and, for her part, she'd long ago gi'n up expectin' it." "I do my best," I at last said desperately. "Wall, your best is very poor, indeed, Ruby," she se- verely retorted. "There! turn it over this way; then give it a twist, so-fashion; and then it don't fly apart in the ket- tle." She motioned with her fork these directions; her face cleared a little as she watched me. "They come tp beauti- ful, if you did make 'em," she added by way of encourage- ment. (I'm most afraid you put full short'nin' enough in 'em," "Ruby can cook as well as the next one if she's let alone," page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 RUBIN. interposed Debby. "Nobody can't do nothin' when watched like a lynx. It flustrates me all sorts." "Wall, Deborah, you just attend to your work,' conde- scendingly said Aunt Rhoda. "Nobody asked you to speak. I spose I can do as I see fit in my own house; when I can't I'll let you take the reins o' government." Debby dared not contradict this assertion; she bent her head in silence, commencing a vigorous rubbing. But this state could not continue; being thus put down did not suit her, as she phrased it; 1" she wan't goin' to be browheat by nobody livin' ;" her face grew every moment more sullenly angry. "Deary me!" she presently said, pausing in her labor, "my wrist's gittin' lamer and lamer every day I draw the breath of life. I can't work so much longer. It's as much as I can do now to wring these great heavy sheets; and sech washes as we have, to be sure! No need on't nuther; havin' so many things jest to make work." No answer. So she presently resumed, with a preliminary sigh: "I was a countin' the pieces over last week to Miss Purse; she said she didn't see how I stood it; she shouldn't think I'd hold out as well as I do." "I'll be hanged if theirs ain't jest as large," asserted Aunt Rhoda; " there's eight of 'em in the family, besides the hired man." "No they ain't," said Debby, positively; " an' they sleep in flannel sheets; that saves a sight, for you know you can't wash 'em, they full up so." - "Wall!" crustily observed her mistress, "you needn't take the trouble to go roun' to the neighbors complainin' how hard you work. Nobody obleeges ye to do it, I'm sure. If you can't, you needn't, only don't be everlastin'ly twittin' 'bout it. I'm sick and tired o' hearin' it, for my part." Deborah at this retort dissolved in tears. When she spoke. RUBINA. 163 it was in a voice decidedly husky, with a pathetic whimper. ' Wall, I'd never a thought it, Mrs. Martin, turnin' me away arter livin' with you over twenty year, and' bringin' up the children for you. I'm jest as fond of 'em as if they's my own. And why shouldn't I be, I'd like to know? never slept a wink all that season they had the measles and cankler rash. Ah! you'll never git any one to slave as I have for 'em all my days. I've allers been an underlin'; but I can go, I s'pose. I know plenty that'll be glad to have me. I'll finish the work first, and mop up, so's you won't, none on you, have that to do. It looks as if it wanted to ride out-this room does. I'P resk but what I can git places enough." As during my residence in Northfield, I had heard this threat almost weekly, when any thing went; wrong with the domestic harness, I felt quite tranquil as to the result. As the short afternoon waned, the mental skies cleared encouragingly, and when evening set in dark and bleak without, the domestic horizon shone mild and clear. With Dwight and Natty, came also home to tea, the schoolmaster. A blazing fire in the keeping-room roared and sparkled in welcome. This room had been made especially neat and inviting, by much sweeping of the gay striped carpet; prolonged anxious searching after truant atoms of dust, which, instead of flying-orderly after their fellows out of the open windows, rebelliously nestled on the rounds of the stiff-backed, cane-seated chairs, on the broad top of the massive mahogany bureau,; and in the recesses of the oval carved mirror-frame. The gilt eagle on the pointed top of this mirror, the brass rings in said bureau, were freshy polish- ed, and glittered in the cheerful fire-light like burnished gold. As they were my own han'diwork, causing me nearly the aft ternoon's labor, I surveyed them with a degree of pardonable pride. The coming of "the teacher" to board, is, in a page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 RUBINA. New England family, considered quite an accession to the social circle; and Demis, as she busily plied the brush over the already shining surface of the fireplace, and gave the glittering balls on the andirons a few. lingering touches, rattled volubly on the interesting theme.. Her mother appeared to think that the talk exceeded the labor, for she suddenly opened the door from the kitchen, put her head inside, gave a critical survey, and asked rather shortly, "What all the rumpus was about?" She did not look par- ticularly charmed or satisfied with the vague answer she got; so she peremptorily ordered Demis off to the " spare room," to /^straighten it up."' "Be sure you put quilts enough on the bed," was the parting injunction. "Stay!" as a chance thought crossed her mind. "Demis, what spread's on that are bed?" "I believe it's the one I pieced when a little girl," said Demis. "Wall, wall, if that's on, you may take it off, short order; I remember the quiltin' aint nothin' extra on that; you would have a quiltin' bee, and do it all yourselves, and, massy to me! some of them stitches are long enough. to hang a person. I felt as though I should fly, when I come to look at it." Demis looked disdainful. "I wonder if you think, Mother, that the schoolmaster will inspect the quilting of all the spreads on his bed? It's as good as he usually gets, I'll be bound!" she finished hotly. "Wall!" her mother calmly retorted, "'twould be dan- gerous sort o', to put it under; he might get caught in some o' them ere stitches; and as for havin't outside, there's no more to be said 'bout that; so get right square along."' "You look in that chist in the north chamber; and I guess you'll find one that's decent," she called after Demis, who had started on a gallop up the stairs, "sech a headstrong piece," she muttered crossly; "I do wish I could make her UBINA. 165 do as I want to have her; she's enough to try the patience of Job. But, then, as the minister says, we must all have our crosses, and take 'em up and bear 'em ;" and she sighed complacently. My face flushed, my voice quivered, as I asked her "if she considered Demis a cross ." she eyed me in astonishment. "W hat's come over you, all of a sudden?" she asked sharply. :.You look mad enough to snap my head off. What's the reason, I wonder, you two gals never can bear to hear the least word said ag'in one 'nuther? 'Twon't alters last, I'm 'fraid. You'll fly off the handle one o' these days. I never knew't to fail when folks are so thick." "Why don't you answer my question, Aunt?" "W all," she said peevishy, inclining her head to listen, "hear that screeching now," ( I heard an uncommonly sweet voice warbling an old-fashioned ditty, above our heads,) " it's nothing but hootin' and tootin' from mornin' to night, and for my part, I'm sick and tired o' hearin' on't."' She turned fretfully away, adding piously, " but it's all in this life, and that's one comfort." She looked in again presently to inform me that my work would " answer well 'nough," and she de- tailed me forthwith for duty in the kitchen. Here much re- mained to be finished: the straggling odds and ends of the day's labor to be concentrated to one focus and briskly dis- patched. - Then ensued a great deal of running from the table to the pantry. The yellow shelves of the latter place suffered a sweeping robbery; an incongruous regiment of edibles were marched in Indian file upon the waiting board. Then there was the necessary descent into the chill damp cellar; minus a candle-my aunt never tolerated one in those regions, for fear of fire-I dreaded encountering the ominous darkness, and when possible, always shirked this duty on some equally) unwilling shoulders. Many a goblin form lurked for me in a page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 RUBINA. post rising gray in the gloom; or in a newer barrel than the rest: often my cowering terror played me the most fanciful tricks; and darting frantically towards the locality of .the sweetmeats, I would seize the first bowl which my hand en- countered, and retreat-with expectant glances over either shoulder--to the stairway. When company was expected Deb- by was not trusted with setting the table. Her intentions were excellent; her efforts untiring; but in her cranium the phrenological bump of order was totally wanting; no amount of quiet instruction and example, or multitudinous hints-to most persons a sufficient, because mortifying reminder, would inculcate carefulness. She always left the butter-knife trail- ing awry on the white cloth; the cups and saucers sprawling awkwardly in all directions. Debby had finished her " mop- ping up " ere sundown; but, instead of the threatened depar- ture, she had changed her dripping garments for a new blue calico gown, and dry leathern boots. She had smoothed her thin gray locks-amply wetted with cold weak tea; which hair invigorator always stood at hand, in a cracked blue tea- cup, replenished every morning-and then 'ensconced herself by the roaring kitchen stove. .She looked the embodiment of homely peace and comfort. Taking Annah upon her lap, and gently trotting her to the cheery whistle of the steaming tea-kettle, she offered to tell her a story about-" when I lived down East." "Wall, when I lived down' 't'the nine Pardners'-You see, Anny, there was nine brothers and they was all in bus'ness together, so the place was named arter them." This explanation, as well as the story that succeeded, and the ensuing " voyage to Savoy," had been told to An- nah's wondering ears, scores of times before; but she never wearied of hearing them, and, provided )ebby ran always in the same tracks, was satisfied and delighted. If she attempt- RUBINA. 167 ed changes in the narratives, the little auditor speedily set her right. 'Debby's stories were lengthy, usually inducing a drowsy languor, which she roused and dissipated by the query, "I wonder now if Anny wants a song!"Then a voice rose over the kitchen bustle-strangely pathetic, as it quiv- ered through the sad minor of the love-songs of her' early girlhood. . , A sapless forest tree slowly wrenched from the soil; turn- ing and twisting with every rush of the wind, groaning heavily with every angrier sweep of the blast, and for many days chanting thus its own forlorn dirge, is a sad sound to hear. Scarcely less ominous did Debby's singing seem; the grace and pliant sweetness gone from her voice, oozing out of its every spiritual pore, along with its twin sister Youth. Age stopping the wheels with the rust of the body's infirmities; turning music into cackle. In weird tone arose the unredressed plaints of dying swains (which Debby prefaced with ' it's said to be a true story,") happy if the object of their affections but visited their slumbers, and smoothed their passage tomb- ward; and the fortunes of luckless navigators who--like the * illustrious Genoese-scoured the seas unweariedly; but, un- like him, in quest of faithless fair ones. "He sail-ed east, he sail-ed west, He sail-ed to a foreign shore, Where he was taken and put in prison Where he could, neither see nor hear." Deborah's store of these quaint ballads was inexhaustible. She revelled in the marvellous; and these sole relies of a time long since vanished into the " sere and yellow leaf," still lung her old withered heart to a renewal of those lost days of - youth, warming its paling ashes with a flash of the old fire, not the less comforting, that it was only a transient glimmer. Her page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 RUBINA. , stories were largely dosed with the strong flavor of the supernatural. Mysterious sights and sounds- which hap- pened " away down East," when she dwelt in that enchant- ed land. She was called "a witch" by some, because she frequently predicted impending evils, and they; not unfre- quently verified her prophecy. She possessed a natural shrewd- ness which she turned to good account. "She could see through a millstone as well as the next one; specially if there's a hole in it," she was fond of observing, though she liked to be looked upon as one possessing the key to hidden knowledge. Accordingly, she impressively told fortunes, when it so suited her mood; either in deciphering the lines, which a perplexing Fate causes to be written on the palm, or by the more popular method of sifting the shadowy future from the little pile of tea-grounds remaining in the cup. She said " she was born with a veil over her face,"--and I once heard her stoutly maintain to a doubting neighbor that ' it was a green veil ;" and could tell, by any one's countenance, when any thing was going to happen to them. She saw "sperrits," too, and was a devout believer in omens-some of which her own eyes had seen, and many more of second- hand origin: of shadowy coffins gliding over the ceiling, ob- stinately transfixing themselves over the person whose doom was thus sealed; of luminous hands waving mysteriously; and of foreshadowing signs in the atmosphere, as well as the no less truthful nature of dreams, of which she was always the -eager positive interpreter. She ceased her song with the summons to supper, and devoted the rest of the evening to a persistent scrutiny of the schoolmaster. "What a puttin' through!t for nothing!" she muttered as she slowly let her- self down -into her chair. Uncle Joel good-naturedly started the conversation into, RIUBINA. 169 as he supposed, congenial channels. As for the new preceptor, for a time he sat stiff and silent in his chair, thus unconsciously- repelling our persistent scrutiny. Thwarted in fathoming the spirit animating the frame, I had a malicious pleasure in sing- ling out each personal defect; in watching the unraceful mo- tions of the tall thin figure. I slyly gave Demisa reassuring nod; evidently we need stand in no awe of so quiet, so bashful a man., Yet, though slight his form, it somehow gave me the idea of strength; though low his brow, and retreating, oneq in- sensibly associated it with intellectual attainments.-albeit fol- lowed by a smile at the folly. Not pleasant thatface; but-stur- , dily strong. --The mouth compressed its lines into cautious selfishness; yet its Smiles were most genial, as subsequent in- terviews revealed, in spite of the cold, hard eyes; they. shone, too, but with no tender brightness. Their glitteringaze relentlessly impelled one to do his bidding, instead:of win- ning ready, cheerful acquiescence. Yet, though they:brood- ed in a sea of repulsion, at times they strangely attracted- by what charmed attribute I never could define. ': In these rare seasons a vague impression of manifold heavy sorrows bravely borne--the parents of glorious aspirations,-of a heart, sympathetic, generous, true, eager to succor the help. less, to warm and cheer with the true elixir of encourage- ment the despairing and the faltering, suddenly becloudedi my previous estimate of his character, and in'duced ad ap- parent -accession of friendliness to my manner.- It was far- longer before Demis dropped her reserve in addressing, him.: It was evident this eveningi from his replies- to Uncle Joei's good-humored questionings, that his sway -over the- rPugh vil- lage boys, would be no arbitrary government of the detested. ferule, or the still more tortuous raw-hide, He -denounced it as infamous, just calculated. to breed-insurrection ; and, his- $ page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 RUBINA. eyes gleamed resolutely, as he said that " he had come to put to flight such lingering traces of barbarism in Northfield. Not that I am the pioneer in this good work, or expect to be man- ufactured into a martyr if I fail. In several of the States, the system of instruction has manifestly taken a higher grade than formerly, and the pupils are appealed to like rational beings, not flogged into a dumb, surly show of obedience." . "I don't know," said Uncle Joel, increduously shaking his head; "I wonder how a 'body can tame em 'n any other way? There's some plaguy hard critturs in our deestrict, and it don't- do a mite o' good to turn 'em out, 'cause they can draw public money, and they will; go hum maybe, and git sent back post haste next mornin'. If I'se in your place, Mr. Hume, I'd lay in a whaler or two, and then you can use it or not, -as you're a mind to, only, in case the reasonin' process didn't go down the way ye expected, 'twill be mighty handy to have a stronger dose of physic handy." "I'll try my method first, and then I will remember your advice, Mr. Martin. Will force is sometimes stronger than muscle, you know," said Mr. Hume. "Wall, I hope you won't have no trouble; but the fact of the business is, the school's got a bad name. You see they kinder -run over wimmen folks, and once they git the upper hand they're dreadful loth to let go. Them big boys of Ste- phens's are making their brags, how they'll cast you out of the winder in short metre, if you don't carry your carcass to suit 'em. I heerd 'em in the office to-day, and there's plenty o' scallywags round just mean enough to hoorrah 'em on, only to see the fun. They'd like to see a college chap took down a peg or two." - Mr. Hume smiled, and nodded. "I shall make it my especial duty to oil their consciences a little; the wheels are ^ . - RUBINA. 171 rusty; don't work smoothly, but a good engineer soon sets that all right. They must be converted." "Lordy!" ejaculated Debby, rising precipitately, and leav- ing the room. Uncle Joel looked contemplative. "Wall," he said slowly, "when I was a shaver I used to get tanned awfully sometimes. Mother used to say that her boys was all full'of the old Nick, but Joel was the cap sheaf; and grandmarm used to pray over me, time and time agin: she'd whine out that I was on the right road to ruin, and nothin' but a mericle would ever stop me; and I'd come to the gallers, and all that, till I got to feelin', arter she begun, as if I raly was a slidin' along a greased track, right down to the bottomless pit, and couldn't stop for the life of me. I allers thought the old woman was ruther disappointed arter I sobered down all of a sudden '. "Now, Joel Martin," broke in Aunt Rhoda, " don't you b'gin to tell over afore these boys how you used to carry sail; they'll be tryin' the same pranks, and, goodness knows, they're bad enough now." "Wall," persisted her phlegmatic husband, "I must say, I don't believe so much in sparing the rod and spilin' the child, as some folks not a thousand miles off I've heerd -the school- marms say, sometimes, they'd rather take a whippin' them- selves than to see Joe Martin come into the school-house; wouldn't think it now, would ye?" he added, laughing.. "'Taint all been rooted out of ye yit, I guess," remarked his wife. '"The scriptures warn us to watch- and pray, and to strive without ceasing; and if you don't do it, I'm bound to do it for you." With this affectionate harangue she rose from the table, with the serene, self-satisfied air of one who has dropped a word in due season, on particularly stony ground, and has so much less to answer for at the Judgment-seat. page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 RUBINAus. ,Demis, show Mr. Hume into the settin'-room; and Mark, you fetch up some apples. I want to pare up them windfalls, and have 'em a dryin'." Thus speedily, pious Mary vanished, to make room for her active, worldly-minded sister. Those two weeks passed swiftly. The lengthening even- ings flew on wings of random, cheerful chat, seasoned with the usual familyflabor. We formed a ring in the large kitch- en, its centre occupied by baskets of early apples. Tin pans comfortably crowned each sitter's knee, which slowly exchanged their bounteous measure, for one of curling rings, and dissected cores. Mark, perched Turkwise on the table, solemnly strung together the separated quarters. And --how or when I do not remember--we became pupils of Mr. Hume; ardent, if ignorant, seekers after knowledge. He came nightly, after he had left us for another boarding- place, and we spent long hours in the good work of improve- ment. With Mark's entrance, study usually vanished, and a series' of. romps attempted-soon and surely checked by AuIt Rhoda's decisive voice issuing from the kitchen: "Come, come, now, none of that ere; you're enough to-craze a nation!" It is not to be supposed that we escaped village gossip. One evening--it was a raw, blustering one in early January-- we hurried our tea, as usuW, to go to our room for some trifling addition to our usual dress of homespun woollen. These additions were merely a knot of ribbon at the throat, and the hair freshy braided; they were Soon completed.- We returned again to the kitchen. In the entry, leading from the stairway, we stopped involuntarily on hearing our names mentioned.: It was Amanda's voice, in no amiable tone, repeating malicious assertions. "It's so," he concluded, "positively, for Ira says so, and I guess he wouldn't lie about it."- -RUBINA. 173 "Of course not," echoed Debby, somewhat ironically. "But, to tell the truth, I've heard the same thing, oh! oceans o' times. It's got to be an old :story with me. Law! suz, I never laid it up to bring hum, for you know, Miss Martin, it's an old sayin', that a ' crow that'll fetch a bone'll carry one.' Well, if it's a lie, you may have it as -cheap as I, but they do say that Mr. Hume is a sparkin' one of our gals. They won't b'lieve nothin'bout the lesson business; say'that it's only a kiver for courtin', and want to know if both on 'em are in the room the whole during time." "Wall, what do you tell 'em,?" inquired Uncle Joel. "I won't tell 'em nothin'," she answered shortly, ' only to find out by their wits, if they've got any; and to guess, and come ag'in. It's none of their business; and I, for one, don't take sass from nobody, not even if 'twas Queen Victory herself. Old Miss Prince's as high as nine 'bout it.!Says -it's takin' his attention from the scho6ol;-;and that the deestrict might jist as well throw the money in the fire as to waste it that way. She says, too, that he don't keep his hours, and there'll be a fuss made afore long, if the don't haul in his horns: and I don't know what all. I can't b'gin to tell all she said." "Why, I'd no idee on't," said Uncle Joel, dismayed. "The other day," pursued Debby, and we heard her set down her teacup with a spiteful rattle, "I was a goin' by there, and it seems ishe got a squint at me, for she up and thumped on the winder for me to come in. I made b'lieve I didn't hear her and kept right square along, but rap, rap, went her old thimble ag'in in the winder pane, so I give up the p'int, and went in. Wall, they appeared dreadful pleased to: see me. I haint been there in an age before-not sence that scrape in the house 'bout the peaches, you know, page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 RBINA. Mr. Martin and the way they rattled on 'bout one thing and 'nuther was a caution. Mind you, they didn't come right out and out, but I could see what they's drivin' at. Arter a spell, Malissy says something 'bout it, and seemed awful put out, 'cause I would'nt let on that I knew what she meant. "aw!' spoke up her mother, 'you musn't b'lieve all you hear. If you do, you'll have your hands full. I don't not mor'n half, and not then, unless I know it's so.' 'Nor I 'nuther,' snapped out Malis, as short as pie-crust,' but I heard this myself-I'se in the store, and one of the men asked him who he thought was the best-looking girl in the place, and it didn't 'pear to take him long to consider, for he spoke right up and said, ' iss Martin.' 'Wall, he p'rhaps meant Mandy,' said Mrs. Prince. '.No, he didn't, nuther,' said she. 'I guess he don't think sandy hair and freckles over and above beautiful. B'sides, she's spoke for already, I spose!'" "The old vixen!" muttered Amanda, wrathfully. "I sot still and heard it all, and never opened my head, for I thought, now I was in the scrape, I might as well be killed for an old sheep as a lamb, you know." "'Fore I'd change places with her as to looks!" scornfully observed Amanda. "Wall, wall," said Debby, calmly, "I never should a spoke out only you begun on the gals, and I can't, nor shan't, set by and hear 'em 'bused. You know, I don't fellowship Meliss Prince any mor'n you do: she's cut out for an old'maid, if there ever was one. She'll be one, too, unless I miss my guess, for she tries so hard to catch a man; now, mark my words!" "I shouldn't wonder if she'd set her cap for the school- master," thoughtfully remarked Uncle Joel. . BU-BINA. 175 "Wall, Mr. Martin, I guess you needn't guess ag'in; you've hit the nail on the head," chuckled Debby. "We will stop this," I exclaimed indignantly. I was vexed to feel my cheeks burning painfully but, turning to see how Demis was affected, I was a little consoled at finding her face likewise flaming. In her case it heightened, instead of detracting from, her dark beauty. Without one miserable pang of envy; with naught save one solitary, irrepressible sigh for my own plainness, I stood several moments-my hand on the latch-silently regarding her. My bonnie, brave New England girl! My royal gypsy queen she was far too simple to notice my gaze, or to guess its meaning. No vanity sillily compressed into a smirk the full red lips.; none showed its detracting light in her soft dark eyes. She turned towards the door, smiling mischievously. "Never mind! we won't care what malicious spinsters say. As Elder Fuller is so fond of saying-Let us rise above all such grovelling considerations, and march on-to our lessons, to victory, or failure-and oh! there's the schoolmaster's knock." CHAPTER XV. APPARENTLY these rumors did not trouble Mr. Hume, for he continued his visits. It is more than probable that he was in ignorance of their existence. I think, had he been thus enlightened, our lessons would have ceased abruptly. Never have I seen a man so shorn of independence. The world's opinion ruled him; was his guiding star. It may have been a necessity to thus defer-in his secret thought; his fortune was still in embryo shape; perhaps he needed the world's page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 76- RUBINA.- lever of approval to develop it to maturity. I know not. I only know that he, sedulously deferred to all, of every grade; that he sought--sometimes by covert flattery--their good opinion. Shrewdnesg usually accompanies this quality, but he- again' was a marked deficiency-reluctant as I was to i admit and cherish the truth, constantly, in numberless little I ways$,crowded home upon my perceptions. He was a good student; but his attainments he owed not to natural abilities; rather ,to eager, patient, persevering effort. And withall his reserve-difficult, indeed, to penetrate; with your con- sciousness of his faults, and they were numerous, you steadily grew to trust, to admire, to like the man. What the charm was I could not tell. Ungraceful the manner, it was as surely magnetic. - This reserve, too often mistaken for dif- fidence, Would not succumb to other influences, but it slowly unwound thb most persistent coil of the same attribute in another.. bie eas never confidential; of his antecedents we knew -athing;,, of .his purposes, little. Yet he thawed, seemingly without desire, the frostiness of other minds' seclu- sion : he grew acquainted-by your own act-with every fam- ily secret, with all your extravagant hopes and ambitions. And what did he do with these seemingly unsought confidences? He thrust them coolly aside ;- he treated them with silent indifference, or with that inexplicable stony gleam--it mav have been triumph --in his eyes. He liked to impart knowl- edge. We progressed rapidly. Sometimes Olive joined our circle. - The study hours were short when she came; and though Aunt Rhoda persisted in opening the door, occa- sionally to-as she phrased it-" put a quietus on us," and took poor Uncle Joel up in the most vehement manner when he good-naturedly suggested that " she better leave the young folks alone ; they wouldn't take no hurt, he guessed ;" she RB7BINAS 177. was always counterbalanced by Debby, who, imitating to the life her mistress's manner-would slyllylook inside to whisper gleefully, "Go on with your bird's egging I I'll bear you out in't. If I was nimbler I'd jine in too," and then suddenly vanish, with a wholesome grinning face, lest she, too, incur a sharp reproof.,- But joys decrease, as well as pains. February closed the winter term of school. Our evening lessons closed also. Mr. Hume made a round of brief farewell visits, and rejoined- his class in college. The days slowly lengthened. March, hoary and jubilant with tempestuous winds, cutting the flesh of the luckless traveller, like tiny weapons of steel; searching the ivery bones and marrow with relentless fury; its occasional treach- erous calms but the shrinking prelude to wilder bursts of pas- sion, shrieked itself hoarse at last, and passed with lamblike calmness from the year's calendar. April, too, has fled- sweet month of alternating smiles and tears; in ages past, and ages to come, the victim of an excess of admiration; putting on the glory, like an every-day garment, of poets' rhymes, and decked in the doubtful splendor of sentimental school-girl essays. What need to praise thee, when the violet and daffodil push'their fresh faces from their snowy beds to greet thy coming! When, out of the love they bear thee, delicate forest blossoms struggle manfully to the sun- light-mute, fragrant flatterers! A busy housewife thou art, excelling all the seasons! There is so much rubbish to be cleared away; the frozen soil loosed from bondage; roots to be warmed into life by clear, unclouded suns; seemingly dead forces to take on their resurrection, and blossom abund- antly. Nature's allies throng fast and furious, to prepare for the summer's campaign. 8* - page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 RUBINA. May coquettishy wafts us a breath now and then from the tropics. Pinks sleepily open their white eyes, hidden among their grassy spears. Honeysuckle bells quiver, tremulous with fragrance on their slender necks. The lilac flings abroad its sweetness, and sends up a colony of shoots around its base. The air is vocal with feathered emigrants, wooed and won back from southern skies; content, it would seem, to exchange orange groves for maples and elms, as they flutter noisily back to their old nests and by their cheerful twitter tell us, ' there is no place like home; no land like that of the Puritans; no air like that of freedom." A languid charm pervades and softens the clear sunlight, and disposes to indolence. Even the toilfiil farm horses share this mood, standing meekly in harness for hours, in apparent contemplation. And when. the carts are at last filled-with sand from the highway, with stones from the field, or decaying sodden leaves from the orchard-and the word is given them to jog onward, they do not pretend to muster a trot, but walk lazily alongside of their lazier masters. Here, too, the ever-recurring gray firmament of colder months changes to a steadfast arch of cloudless blue- Nature's perfect morning wrapper, worn unsullied, unwrin- kled throughout an entire day; or a more lovely, because less monotonous picture, snowy glaciers of clouds looming portentously in the southwest; then, forgetful of their threatening errand, as the glorious sea :spreads out before them, come rapidly onward, so gently ploughing their feathery keels through the billowless sea, that their motion is scarcely perceptible, and, like a flock of homesick pigeons, they halt with reluctant misgivings midway on their airy passage. And yet another, when dense, white continents, joined to others as vast by narrow stretches of isthmus, discover them- iUBINA. 179 selves to the upturned eye-opening, as we watch them to show us peeps at blue lakes, over' which anon a fragment flits-a cloudy pebble which does not sink, but rests on the surface, a veritable island. Silvery barges scud across the heavens, full-freighted with shadowy Cleopatras. Ay, fa- miliar faces beckon and smile to us also; and the longer we gaze the more confused we grow, and scarce can tell whether the blue or white ble uppermost, or whether our- selves or the clouds are stationary. However, May, to the thrifty housewife, is more suggestive of the annual scrubbing of the domicile; of sundry winter garments to be packed away, and lighter gear replaced in wardrobes. To the farmer's wife it is more suggestive of the coming toils of the dairy, the hot, sweltering, haying time, than of natural beauties. These latter are taken for granted; enjoyed with that dull perception which cannot conceive of any thing occurring to check or prevent their annual reap- pearance; they are there for all time to be gazed at in the interstices of ardent labor; but the daily round of this same toil must be looked after. With the. advent of summer I emerged from the chrysalis state and fluttered confidently forth, a village " schoolmarm." This important post was obtained for me chiefly through Uncle Jesse's kind representations. Then followed the in- dispensable official visit from a solemn-looking constellation, -one sun, and three lesser lights content to bask in the splen dor of his beams. The sun was the minister, of course, and the satellites were the lawyer, deacon, and "town field- driver." My heart fluttered tremulously on being summoned to this august presence. I remember, such was the stress of my anxiety, pausing a moment, my hand on the- latch, to offer up a brief prayer for a happy result, and to summon - S page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] - 180 BRUBINA. to my aid an air of unconcern. I felt no addition of faith after the petition ; neither assrgnce after the struggle for it. As I entered, -the field-driver accosted me: ' Take a settin' on the longe, won't ye, Miss Brooks tf Ye needn't be afeared of me, Icause I can move along and make all the room you want." He vented his mirth in a -facetious chuckle. My cheeks burned at his insolence, powerless as I was to J resent itf. --What more natural in such an emergency than to hide the flaming offenders. I turned to the window, just as Demis came tripping by, her apron filled with radishes fresh from the garden for tea. A quick sign-with one hand asked me if they-were there? I nodded. She threw it up in pre- tended astonishment, and mischievously held up a scarlet radish to indicate the similitude. Then she clinched her "'tiny' fist, and shook it expressively, just as Elder Fuller's little figure crossed to my side and peeped curiously ver my shoulder. I chose a seat, and "Brother -Storts" opened the exercises, with a request to the "Prudential Committee" to settle the terms of hire. The minister retorted, that " as Brother Storts himself was that committee, doubtless he would proceed at once with that duty." He was answered by an inquisitive nod in my direction and this query: "Wat do you think's about the fair thing in the matter o' wages " and he doubled his tongue together, thrusting it between his great yellow teeth. I considered, which pause was only for looks; I had pon. dered this idea previously, long and well. Speculating with commendable hopefulness on the probable amount of my earnings, my estimate, I thought, extremely moderate. Mr. Storts dissentingly shook his head. "So, so!" he gravely pronounced, glancing meditatively at the carpet, then quickly up at my face." "It's too much for the fust onset!" He RUBINA. 181 glanced appealingly at the elder. -The divine, wiry,- dry, rustling as usual, came to his aid and eyed me severely. "I believe, Miss Brooks," he coldly observed, "' this, is, as our brother well and truly observes, your first essay at instilling the precious seed of knowledge into the youth- ful mind."' I reluctantly assented. "We feel the awful responsibility resting upon us, individually and collectively,.in this. great matter of education." Looking me full in the face to impress me with its momentous consequences, he slowly added, "We are not in the habit of engaging inexperienced instructors. No! One who aspires to this proud title should possess experience, age, dignity, and wisdom. x Have you these prime virtues, Miss Brooks?"I grew a little indignant at this, and found my tongue: "Pray tell me how one can have experience except they teach 2 and as for age--" "Excuse me," he interrupted, " you have yet to hear me out." He proceeded as though I had not spoken. :"Yet, at the instance of our mutual esteemed fellow-citizen, Mr. Warner, who recommends you warmly, we, after due de- liberation, and frequent implorings for Divine assistance, in this, as in all other weighty matters of the law, have cofclud- !* ed to- award you a fair trial. If you succeed, you open the way to a station of future incalculable usefulness; if you fail -" he left this blank to be filled by all" the ills and calami- ties my imagination could devise. "You will, therefore, per- ceive that a reduction of your exorbitant demands is an im- perative necessity, until you have proved yourself competent for a station which is our country's proudest boast." The little man had probably learned this wonderful flight of elo- quence, for, after its delivery, he relapsed into profound silence. His subordinates wisely remained mute. My re- sponse came more meekly. "That's the ticket," approvingly page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] remarked Brother Storts-I felt any way but. fraternal- J "we've ciphered it over, and I reckon 'bout a dollar and twenty-five, for sech a business, 's the fair thing." "It ought to be sufficieAttsatisfaction to work for the love of it. That is reward enough to any right-minded person," placidly observed Elder Fuller. H/e put on his spectacles, and peered at me over them--by this means preparing to put his mental laboratory into working order. Then followed his grand -wave of the hand, whereby he thus waived all prior claim-by reason of superior talent and office; and the reinstal- lation by his humble luminaries, who " couldn't think o' sech a thing, raly," and the final arrangement, whereby each in turn should invest themselves in inquisitorial robes, and sound the shallow depths of my acquirements. Deacon Marabee came last; and he had decidedly tough work to summon his arithmetical forces. After a protracted hemming for need- ful words, he said desperately: "Miss Brooks, what's 'Reth- metic 2-I'm gun to b'gin at the b'ginnin', and go straight through," he explained sotto voce tohis fellow-laborers. "Did you arnser that question, Miss Brooks i" his glance returning to my face. I replied in the affirmative. " Wall, say it over, X if you please, I'm a little hard o' hearin'." I repeated it ac- cordingly. , Yes!" assented he, with a meditative air, resting his lean elbows on his shrunken legs, as he stooped forward and plunged his long fingers through his grizzly locks. c; It's the art o' numb'ring though, rayther than the science of num- bers, and it's a wonderful art too; learns us to cipher and - keep a'counts. It's the usefullest of all time-serving arts, take it all-round. Grammar, I never could see the use of, nor the sense on't, and though the art of jography is all well enough, it can't hold a candle to figgers. You notice, mv young friend, I call it a time-serving art. Can you tell me what I mean ., i*' RUBINA. 10, Seeing from his manner he expected me not to know, I hastily proclaimed my ignorance. -He nodded his satisfaction. '"It's a servant of time, Miss Brooks, therefore I call it time-serving. It's of the earth, earthy. What a thought it is, a grand and wonderful thought, I may say, that in another-world we shall need no sech arts and sciences. No studyin', or teachin', or nothin'; no committee ^ men to look after the int'rists of the young, no nothin' at all, but praisin' and givin' glory to the Lamb who was slain from the foundation of the world; only castin' our golden harps be- fore the great ' White Throne,' and jinin' the colony of the saints; the hundered and forty and four thousand, who are the redeemed." How much longer the worthy man would have pursued this exalted strain it is impossible to say. It was evident i that he had lost all sense of present duty, in this rapt comrn- muning with the waiting glories of immortality. He doubt- less fancied himself flanking his long pew in Sunday-school, filled with attentive Bible scholars. Elder Fuller recalled him, very shortly, to sublunary things. "Deacon Marabee! You'll hardly' get through' the book to-night at this rate." The deacon started bolt upright. "I b'lieve I kinder lost myself," said he. '-' I'm famed for - it, specially when I git to dwellin' on the wonders in store - for .them that love and fear the Lord. mWall, Elder, if you think it ain't best to put any more questions to the subject, I'm willin' to express myself satisfied with things as they be." ' : "Glory, Hallelujah," shouted Demis, bursting into the room immediately the last had vanished from the ' yard.' I never saw any thing like it in all my born days. Here they've stayed, and stayed three blessed hours, and I wanted to go ," . x ' page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] strawherrying. I declare, it is too bad," and she energetically gesticulated to such an extent toward the retreating figures, that the spying orbs of her mother caught and transfixed her; she told her to i" stop that in short order; she wonder- ed if she wasn't afeard to show sech disrespect to aged Chris- tians. She should expect a judgment to foiller. The Lord , didn't tolerate irreverence to his followers,"-concluding by an urgent recommendation to read the Bible story of the bears, who destroyed the boys for insulting the aged prophet. Demis laughed. "What now, Miss Sauce-box?" angrily interrogated her mother. "Oh, nothing! I have my misgivings on some of those stories you are always quoting." "Yis,-I dare say, and I have mine on some others," re- joined Aunt Rhoda, nodding her cap-border ironically; " one is, that you'll never come to no good end, Demis Martin, and I the sooner you know it, the better." CHAPTER XVI. MONDAY morning found me fully equipped for my new station; with the approved rudiments of learning done up in blue covers, and packed away in my satchel. I had a deal of gratuitous advice from Mark, and sympathy from Demis, with promises of sundry visits, and fervent hopes from Deborah, that "I shouldn't git starved out, for," she observed, "you know them fact'ry bugs ain't much of any hand at cookin'; they do as well's they know how, I s'pose; poor creeturs, they ain't to blame for what they don't know ; we none of us be. Now!" she decisively added, "I've UB1INA& 185 :: putup some -doughnuts and cookies for you, to whet your bill on when you git hungry, though youi must make a show of eatin' when you go to the table, else they'll be as high as nine 'bout it. -Them kind o' folks are so dreadful 'fraid of bein' slighted, you know; allers on the watch to see if some- body a leetle better off don't look down on 'em. I know 'em of old. Now, I don't expect you'll have much but-griddle-cakes anrd brown sugar; the butter 'll be frowey, too, see if 'taints But if you're cunnin' 'bout it, you can manage so's not to swaller one morsel. I remember Lovicy Lovejoy's tellin' 'bout goin' to sowin' s'ciety at one of them housen-Miss Hicock's, I b'lieve 'twas. At any rate she was a church member, and she'd tended up putty regular to the others, and asked 'em to meet with her. What to do they didn't know. They put it off and put it off as long as they could; fust one would speak for it, a little grain ahead, you see, Ruby, and then another, till they couldn't put it off no longer, and they finally 'pinted a day for't. I see Lovice that day. She felt - like death 'bout goin'; they're so pisen nasty at Hicock's. She laughed, and said she expected to eat her peck o' dirt afore she died, but she leetle ruther pick out the kind, and' she'd a good deal rutherer not eat it with her eyes wide open. Wall, only three of the s'ciety went. They all had 'corn- pany corme' that day. Kinder unexpected, you know. 'Twas in the spring o' the year, and some was all torn up a cleanin'. Mrs. Martin was among them kind; so tuckered out that she didn't feel able to fide up there. I must say I never knew her to stay to hum, on that a'count, afore or sence. Wall, what to do they didn't know; but they finally fell to and sewed till dark, and then was invited out to tea as crank as* ever 'you see. Lovice is a sly crittur. I never should a thought o' comin' the game she did; more likely than not I X . . ...: page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 RTBINA. should have been tuk with a powerful headache, or a sour stomach, or somethin' o' that kind; but, no! She was well enough, and started up as spry as a last year's cricket, as if she was so hungry she couldn't wait, and dreadful 'fraid she shouldn't git t'the supper-table afore the rest.- She's told me sence it did her a heap o' good to look round and see the others a worryin' down the vittals. They couldn't -do no otherwise, you know. Miss Purse said she thought she could take a stiff lobelia 'metic when she got home, and so she put in and eat. Wall, what'd Lovicy do, but take a piece of ev'ry thing that was passed round; four kinds of cake, and three biscuits, great, yeller, sour-milk things, as big as your fist, and a whoppin' piece o' mince-pie in t'the bargain, and when supper was through there want a scrap of nothin' under the sun left on her plate'; she finished it as clean as the Shakers could ask for. Walkin' hum that night the ladies was a speakin' 'bout it, hopin' they shouldn't have to go there ag'in right away, and so forth, and so on. cDear me!' says Lovicy, ' How could you eat so? For my part I couldn't, swaller one morsel, and I'm as faint as I can be. The fust rush I make when I git hum'll be for the butt'ry.' "'Do hear her!' says the others. 'She eat like'a pig. She better talk of folks bein' nasty. She seemed to relish every thing pritty well, I thought.' "'Me A' says Lovice. 'I didn't eat nothin'; see here, if you don't b'lieve me,' and she pulled her hankucher out of her pocket, stuffed jest as full as it could hold of crumbles of ev'ry thin' she'd took at table. 4 "'Oh, oh! why didn't-you tell us, so's we could a done so too,' said Miss Purse. "Cause I didrn't want to git caught, as some o' us would a been if I'd told you. Y0ou see you eat and I kept talking 187 RTTIBINA. 1 all the while,so they mistrusted nothin.' You can try it if you git brought to sech a pinch," concluded Deborah, with a sage nod. The whole family turned out to see me off. Uncle Joel, from the meadow below the piazza, waved .his yellow bandanna. Mark held the horses' heads while Mr. Warner clumsily mounted to my side.. Deborah-stood at the end of the piazza, polishing her forehead with one corner of her checked apron, and smiling at me encouragingly; while -Demis assiduously endeavored to hush Annah's cries; perched upon the gate-post, she clamorously entreated to be taken. Even Aunt Rhoda paused a moment from breaking up the curd, and, looking through the open dairy door, nod- ded almost pleasantly as we drove away. There is such an exulting sense of importance in the first home-leaving, when the fruition of a cherished purpose shines surely and steadily ahead. My dignity developed wonderfully while riding slowly towards that little grove-hidden -school- house, the target for all the eyes in the village. They were levelled at me along the street; they twinkled from doors, and peeped cautiously around lifted edges of green-paper cur- tains, as I then thought, enviously. A condescending al- moner is pity; abundant, uncostly alms I bestowed upon those unconscious recipients. "Dear me, sus!" sighed Uncle Jesse, as .we neared the place. "Sister Charity was a sayin' this very mornin' that it seemed so strange to think that one of her old scholars was steppin' inter her shoes. It shows there's no stannin' still. We're gittin' older and older ev'ry day. Sister Charity's putty poorly.: she don't pick up very fast," he added, reflectively. "See, Ruby, ain't there a swarm, now?" We had stopped in' the midst of a noisy throng of lads page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] Ooo RUEBINA. and lasses: the former suddenly beginning tree ascensions with brown, bare feet; the latter, bright with pink ruffled aprons, and green gingham sun-bonnets, whose strings they were industriously chewing. I determined to organize my kingdom precisely after the manner of Miss Charity's old regime; so I placed a piece of paper on the corner of a spelling-book, and, leisurely tapping it with a pencil, walked up the rows of faces for a timid census-taking. It was de- cidedly a work of time and patience. One youngster gave answer that. he was "old Joe Brown's boy;" and, upon further questioning, replied, "Dad calls me' skesicks,' and mam calls me puddin'-head; yer can take yer choice." The boys all laughed, and the misses giggled. I inquired his age. "Manm says rse born in the year one, and I ruther guess she knows," was the curt reply. Again the boys laughed. As I steadily pursued my task, I now and then caught wondrous pantomimes on all sides, liberally greeted with appreciative mirthful sounds. Then the girls, one at a time, darted at mewith wistful looks and eager beseechings for'a pin, until I wondered if they thought me a pin- cushion, and, looking narrowly into their quarters, found sundry shawls turning rapidly into infant forms, and under- going a vigorous care. They tore leaves from spelling- books to plait into fans, and curled dandelion stems into long ear-rings. The days wore away drearily, seamed with little golden morn- ing gleams in the shape of fresh, queer little bunches of violets and daisies; of striped grass, southern-wood, and sweet peas, laid sweet and cool upon my desk. Debby's anticipations of the meagre fare to which I should be subjected were realized. Often no roof would admit me, when my sole resource was Uncle Jesse's,where a hospitable welcome was sure to await me. RUBINA. :89 The summer waned slowly. July passed in intense heat. Its sultry burnings breathed upon me almost intolerable languor. I grew to loathe my long walks at morn and even over the scorched sandy roads. My pupils, too, caught the contagion of restless indifference to study. Away off, on the hill-sides, were patches of forest. Viewed through the narrow panes of my school-room windows, they looked tantalizingly suggestive of coolness; the cattle sleeping under the scatter- ing trees seemed, indeed, enviable. Utterly exhausted, one sunny afternoon, I fell asleep- my head resting on my wooden desk-when a sudden, uproar startled me. A new scholar was the cause-a tall, red-haired, lusty lad; with small gray eyes, rebelliously twinkling around the room, and returning to meet my sleepy gaze. He volun- tarily informed me that- his name was. Andrew Jackson, and saucily inquired if he should " set on the floor?" I pointed to a seat. He shuffled along the floor toward it, and this banished my drowsiness. I was alert and vigilant to detect mutinous acts, but all went smoothly until the close of school. Then, as the last class arose, the big boy remained in his seat, surly, inattentive. To my mild inquiries, he returned dogged answers. "You will at once take your place," I confidently re- marked. "Not ef I knows myself, I guess," was the serene reply. The class eyed me curiously; a few smaller pupils set up a titter. As I stood, meditating what course to pursue, survey- ing him with some disgust, pride urging me to conquer him- he favored the assembled class with a knowing wink, and dropped this remarkable observation: "Some apples are green when ripe, Miss-Brooks. I'm one o'them sort, ye see ;" then, after a pause: "I ain't none afeard of my granny," at the after* ai page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 RROBINA. same time rising, and slowly turning pivot-like on one heel, a hand grasping his other ancle. His insolent coolness exasperated me. I felt suddenly, through all my veins, the strength of a tiger. Once fairly in my grasp, it seemed as if I could crush him like an egg-shell. A thought seized me. I advanced cautiously, and slyly putting out my foot, as he continued his careless swinging - anon, leering at the silent class, he tripped and fell headlong to the floor. Having once got the advantage, I retained it; calling one of the larger boys to my aid, we bound him securely. His rage, his mad struggles, were, for a time, furious. Oaths rang out loud and fierce, accompanied by sullen threats and promises, with eyes of flame, of future repayment. Then, as no one replied, or noticed him, he ceased to struggle. Shame trod closely on the retiring heels of Ire- shame at the unprovoked contest. The sullen quiet of sub- mission succeeded to the tumult. I sought and transfixed-his eyes with a steady gaze. They quailed. Sarcasm is the discipline for this nature, thought I. His prestige is gone among his former subjects: I must make the victory complete. In cool, measured accents I addressed him. I spared no sting which I thought could wound and humble. As Iceased, the class signified approbation by one universal murmur, with pleased looks at each other, and expressive head-noddings. I caught a few observations, in an undertone, such as-"I'm glad, for one ;" "( He allers was a plaguey bully;" "I reckon it's the furst day in the year that he's been took down such a peg." "-Shall he stay on the floor?"I now ventured to ask. "Yes!"' Yes!" "Yis, marm," came the responses-some of them from sturdy, full-fledged rogues, who merited an al- most equal-treatment. But youth always takes the side against RUBINA. 191 the physically weak and helpless, the mentally inferior, or the conquered. They are fast allies just as long as admiring fear carries a compelling might, and no longer. Andrew, by this time, was as submissive as a lamb. All bravado had vanished; he was actually crying. My eye steadily seeking his, compelled him to ask my pardon for his insults, then, of the scholars, which he did humbly. I released his bonds, and allowed him to rise, and the lesson passe'd as orderly as usual. This incident- so trivial in itself-was an era of hope for the future good behavior of the whole school; and, as for Andrew Jackson, his respectful deference was marked; his devotion was unbounded. He usually remained after school, to walk home with me, and one evening we thus encountered Mr. Warner. "Wall, who'd a thought it?" he exclaimed, with a wonder- ing look at my satchel, which Andrew carried. I took it from him, and turned back with Uncle Jesse. "Thought what?"I asked. "Why, I heerd that are Jackson feller a makin' his brags t'other day, that he wan't goin' to be ruled by a woman, a milk-and-water face too. I say, what'd you do to him, Ruby 8 it's took the starch all out," he added. I merely laughed. "The biggest,- meanest, young rascal that ever trod shoe- leather; wants to be sent t'the house o' correction the wust way," he said with emphasis. "There never was one of his kith and kin fit for nothin' under the sun but to sarve as a scare-crow; won't work, do your best. Work an' they had a fallin' out once and never got over it, I Aspect. wI was in hopes this one'd keep away from you. You'll get 'nough of him 'fore the term's out." "You see," he resumed, meditatively, "they're so conceity. Can't tell 'erm nothin'. They know it all beforehand. Now page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] ' 192 RIBiNA. I think that conceit's like chickweed; it takes an amazin' sight o' pullin' up and hoein'; you've got to be etarnally at it, and -then you never know whether you've got red of it for good or not." Midsummer passed. Broad fields of yellow grain fell in serried ranks at the wide sweep of the reaper's cradle--for- midable-looking, but powerless, opposers. Over hill and dale floated musically autumnal signals. The flail merrily re- sounded. Apples began' to drop from the trees with a mellow sound, suggestive of ripeness. Squirrels ran nimbly along the zigzag lines of rails that fenced in orchards from the highway. November wreathed in mist and haze the too vivid landscape. The nights grew cooler, and-left crisp dew on the still green foliage. December, though not yet come, blew upon us from afar his frosty breath. Those days released me from bondage. The august Committee again visited me on the last day of my service. The children came decked in holiday attire, with brilliant nosegays of asters, ostentatiously presented, and full of eager anticipation respecting parting presents. Elder Fuller made a speech, impressive and original. "He was astonished, and, he must say, confounded, at the wonder- ful progress of all the pupils in their several branches of knowl- edge. It showed great perseverance-and unflagging industry on the part of the pupils, and great efficiency on the part of the teacher." Here he showered the praise until I felt amused and then indignant. "Education was a great and a glorious thing; indeed, he might say, the only thing worthy to engage the attention of the young.'" He elevated above his head a dictionary. "Here, my young friends, is the lever which moves the universe. -This is the keystone to all knowledge; the foundation of all the arts and sciences. Show me a RUBINA. 193 Plato, a Cicero, a Newton, a Washington, and I will show you a zealous, earnest student of this book. Master it thoroughly, and you will see the channels of wisdom and learning open to admit you, and overflowing with living waters. It is a golden link in the vast chain of books, which binds our land round and round, and through and through." The children cast reverent looks at the battered volume, and wondering ones at each other, as the minister's voice sank impressively to its lowest key, while he solemnly added, *' Let us pray." CHAPTER XVII. IT appeared that, with the advent of winter, Demis's pro- phecy was destined to find literal fulfilment. She informed me immediately upon my arrival, that Natty had domiciled his chubby form under the "great room" sofa the preceding Sunday evening, for the express purpose of " finding out all about it." "Such a fright as he gave us!" said she. ' We didn't miss him till nine o'clock, and then what an ado, to be' sure. Debby was half distracted, running around the house, and shouting with all her might. FinallyT Amanda heard the commotion and looked out to inquire the cause, and after a moment we discovered him, curled up fast asleep. Such a shaking as mother gave him. I know she -would have whipped him, if father had been away. I don't know why, but she never did whip one of us before him," "And when does it come off.?"I asked. "Natty said about Christmas time, and Ruby," she whispered, "Mr. Hume will be back in time for it. He is coming to teach again this winter." 9 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 9LY4 .RtUBIBAL "Does that make any difference?"I inquired half jea. lously. " Of course not, my: darling. You do take one's words up so. Only, the more the merrier, you know." Dear Demis! She was opJen as the day. Her frank, guileless nature saw no reason to conceal the pleasure with which she looked forward to the schoolmaster's return. I, too, felt a strange sweetness surging through my heart, but I strangled it at its birth; if cruel to myself, yet a kind mother toward an illegitimate offspring. For why should I - nourish the shy stranger, and feed it daily with promises of a golden future, only, when it should have grown to man. hood's strength and sternness, to be crushed to atoms in its fierce endeavors to be free from unwarranted thraldom?- only to gather thorns at life's meridian, when, in its blessed morning, I had sown foolish trust; the sting of secret shame following closely the slightest departure from the solid track of Reason's footsteps. Not many days after, upon going into the keeping-room, I perceived a change. The cherry -table with its blue and orange woollen cover had disappeared. The dimity cur- tains were twisted away from the windows. Chairs were huddled into the centre of the room, upholding four long wooden frames, fastened together by pegs in their corners, on which was spread the surface of a gay " album quilt." As I silently regarded it, the owner thereof appeared, her form dilating with pride, and pointed out the most precious squares. "There's pieces of all the girl's dresses," said she. "I shall take lots of real solid comfort lookin' at 'em. They wrote their names in the centre, you see, and give 'em to me to: set together. It's the fashion here, when a girl gits married." BUBIN 195.' , Then you have made up your mind to be married," I said, prudently averting my gaze to the autographs before me. "Yis I don't niind tellin' you. Demis is such a hector, I never can tell her any secrets; she'll laugh:you right in the face. It's .comin' off Thanksgi in', an' father says, that, bein' the first to go, I shall have a real rouser of a weddin'." "Why didn't your friends here have one write their names?" I asked, pointing to the straggling hieroglyphics; running up hill," and " down hill," and into corners; some bravely starting near the centre of a block, with bold capitals; but, getting cramped for finishing space, dwindling -gradually' to letters of fairy-like minuteness; others, dwarfed at the start- ing point, but swelling to a fatness truly aldermanic, as they ran along the white centre; some with extravagant twists and quirls, as if just at that juncture the authors thereof had been suddenly seized with colic, and unable to prevent the letters from assuming sympathetic contortions. She gave me a surprised look. "I like it a thousand deal Letter as it is," she said. "Its jest as they write. I guess none on 'em ever saw the inside of a writin' school, though; none but the Purse girls. Look there! You can't ask for harn'somer writin' than that of Olive's name, I'm sure," and she bent a searching glance around the frame. I Rubiny," she continued, " don't want to draw you inter harness, as soon's you step foot in the house, but-" she hesitated so long, that I looked up in surprise; she was not often chary of asking favors. "Oh! only to make a silver cake for me. I want a nice tea; the girls always tell what's on the table, when they git home. Have you seen my settin' out?" she abruptly inquired. "Come on, and I'll show it t' you. I s'pose the girls'll have to have a squint at it too." She proceeded on up the stairs into the "east chamber," page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 RUBINA. and opening a capacious chest, proudly lifted out for my inspec. tion, piles on piles of the whitest imaginable linen, the labori. ous accumulations of years, fragrant of sweet cloves, spices, and dried rose-leaves, with her name in fulD marked in colored cross-stitch upon each. She appeared to take immensecsatis. faction in my looks of pleased surprise, and replaced them with lingering fondness, pausing to settle and smooth their strong, glossy folds. Then, she opened a closet door, and pointed to the shelves, laden with blankets and quilts. There were "rose counterpanes," in blue and white, and red and white. There were blankets, in coarse check, fine check, and plain; and thick-padded "comfortables," tied with great knots of blue yarn; and quilts, in "basket" pattern, with handles, and without handles, to suit the most fastidious taste; in large stars, and small stars, stars with four points, and seven points, and with rings in their centres, and one,. "Lone Star of Texas." There were "chains," and "wild goose chases," and rose-buds, and one of a zigzag pattern, called " herring- bone." And one huge sunflower pattern, looking, as Debby declared, "as nat'ral as life:" and also a "butterfly"-- emerald green and "turkey red,'i insects of a shape unknown to Audubon, skimming over a field of pure white, fenced in by a yellow binding. And lo!"the Mississippi Valley" was there; and a grand old "Irish cross," and "a circle round the moon," besides other suggestive titles, too numerous to specify; and the first, on which she tried her undeveloped powers. "Who'd ever a thought I'd a made such a piece o' work on't as that is 2" she said, surveying it scornfully; "it'll do though for the hired man's bed, if we ever have one," and she tossed it to the topmost shelf. There were white spreads, with heavy tasselled fringes, and RUBINA. 197 netted fringes, and thick knitted " edging;" piles of dimity "valances," and pillow-cases, and "ticks') -for straw and feathers. In short, all that a reasonable girl could desire. To please Amanda, I gave the articles a lengthy survey. "It's tol'rable, I think," she complacently observed. "About as good as most girls git. Mother'd feel streaked enough if it wan't; and I hain't asked no odds of nobody. I made 'em all myself." "That's the reason you keep your room so much, I sup- pose." "Certain! mother wouldn't have all these traps roun' down-stairs. I've taken sights of comfort up here, mor'n I shall ever see again, I'm afraid*" And she gave a senti- mental sigh. t' Mother's goin' to make me a carpet, and then I shall be whole-footed." The quilters assembled early. "Fust and foremost," growled Debby, as Miss Harriet Ann Carr, arrived. She may be truthfully described as a maiden, tall, tanned, and skinny, of doubtful age, poor memory, and decided leanings toward the state of matrimony. By the persevering saving of "milk money" she had attained to gold spectacles, becom- ing "near sighted with waning youth ;"-a fact she freely lamented, averring it to be "a great pity that young folks couldn't git along without glasses; it makes 'em look so old- grannyfied, you know," always ending piously with, A' Wall, what can't be cured, must be endured." She was fond, too, of smelling of any one's open snuff-box, remarking the while, "Mother laughs to beat all; but, I do really, and always did like the smell of black snuff, with a bean in it; jest a whiff ye know." Mellissa Prince was there, with her insinuating glances, and perpetual " they says," iand envious construc- tions of innocent remarks, accompanied by her sister "Frances page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 RUBINA. August," bold, rude, and disagreeable, given to constant head-tossings and giggles. Olive, with her pale oval face, and deep hazel eyes, reflecting earnest truth, set them all right occasionally in their wanderings. Amanda, silent as usual, went from side to side, assisting to roll, and marking minute diamonds with a card dipped in a saucer of starch, highly colored with indigo. Toward sunset, Deborah came in to inspect the quilting As she peered curiously over the noisy girls' shoulders, she was eagerly importuned to tell their fortunes. A shadow crossed her face, as she looked around the group. "Law's sakes, gals,t' she said, "I've told 'em to you dozens o' times, and married you off, and that's all the good it does; you won't foller 'em, so what's the use?"- "No!" interrupted Kitty, " you never told mine." "'Cause I think you're clear quill, you know, and can git along without it, fur'zi know." "Nonsense'!"cried Miss Kitty, " and you won't tell Ruby's." "Well," said Debby, slowly, "I've never had the heart to tell Rubiny her'n; for the fust night she come here, goin' on seven year ago, I say in her countenance a long life of trouble; I hain't seen nothin' yit to make me alter my mind. -See here!" she eagerly clutched my hand, and spread open the palm, "Did any on ye ever see sech lines as them before? so deep! hundreds of 'em, crossin' and crossin' each other; the line of life is long and deep I! she'll live to be old! then, see where others cross it. I tell you, gals, when you see that--which you won't very often--it says, as plain as plain can be, trouble and worriment and care. I can't tell ye nowtin' pleasant," she shortly said, flinging away my hand, as though it stung her. "I see, by yer looks, ye don't b'lieve nothin' in't, but that don't make no differ- RUBINA 199 ence. -Tain't Faith as makes ourfortins. come tre. Ye never can be prepared for it nuther. It takes ye onexpected; when ye think ye've got clear o'one p'int, it'll come in anuther. I see it as plain as day. You'll make friends, maybe, but you won't keep 'em; 'twon't be your fault though. It is to be. Some'll die. Them you love. best, o' course; that's allers the way. Some'll desert you, and it'll seem to you for jest nothing at all You'll be as poor as Job's turkey all the days of your life; live alone, and sorrowful, and, like's not, die in the poor-house. There's more, too, and worse; want to hear it?" she asked, suddenly. "No! that is sufficient, I think," said Kitty. "You're gloomy as the grave, Debby. Ruby, though, don't look as if she put much faith in your prediction. That's one com- fort. Now beware, in telling mine, how you make it up out of whole cloth. It must be true as the Gospel, and not half as tedious; and if you forget the marrying part, I'll never for- give you. I'm bound not to be an old maid." The little hoiden shook her fists at the seer, and hummed lightly, "Oh, Canaan, 'tis my -happy land." "Do you think I make fortins, Miss Kitty ." said Debby, scornfully " If you do, you're much mistaken. I only reads what's writ for me in the book o' Fate.' When I tell 'em, in 'arnest, they allers come true. Them flyaways," she added, contemptuously, "Io talk nonsense to; there's nothin' re - markable in their futur'. They'll, some on 'em, git married, most likely, and have nine or ten young ones apiece, mostly boys and gals, and they'll die when .their time comes, and that's good enough for anybody, I think." "Well," said Kitty, laughing, " I always knew that I was remarkable, but strangely enough no one at home will agree with me in that opinion. Much obliged to you, Deborah." "' i page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] Debby stooped quickly, and lifted the black sparkling eyes upward. "Poor child!" she said, fondly; "who could have the heart to give you one sad, painful moment?" and she turned to leave us, but Kitty caught her by the hand:. , I demand to know it, whatever it is," she cried, with crimson cheeks and startled eyes. We suspended work, and watched the pair. "I wish to heaven I had not come in here this afternoon," said Debby, solemnly. ":But I'll tell, if tell I must. In less than a month, Kitty Fuller--now mark my words--somethin, awfulll happen to you. You'll be stark livin' alone too. I see a brook, as plain as plain can be. It's red too; red as blood. Oh! dear, how glad I'd be to help you, but it's strong and sudden, and nobody nigh to see it. I can't tell you more; but be- careful; do be careful." With these words she vanished into the kitchen. A silence fell on us all. Kitty turned white as death, and whispered brokenly, "Oh, girls, what does she mean? Am I to be murdered f' "A pretty idea," indignantly interposed Demis, as the noisy tongues caught up and reproduced this supposition with commiserating glances at the victim. ".Kitty hasn't the shadow of an enemy in the world. I'm astonished at Debby. She feels gloomy and has vented her spleen in the usual way with her. I never believe her. She maykeep her fortunes to herself for all I care. To-morrow she would tell you one quite different, if he felt so inclined," and she looked angrily at the whispering girls. Thus encouraged, Kitty shook off the unusual feeling of sadness, and became once more her own bright, gay self. For all Demiss disbelief' "began Olive to me, in a whisper, then mused absently. ' "Do you credit it ." I asked. RUBINA. 201 "Oh! I was thinking of something which she prophesied once, stranger still than this, and it did happen just as she said. It's very strange ---" again she mused. An uncomfortable feeling crept overl me, making the merry voices seem strangely discordant. Happy unconcern lit each face. The released tongues flew wildly. Olive, alone, kept me silent, thoughtful company. "Laws, gals!" said Aunt Rhoda, "after tea, fold up the quilt and put it away; ,there'll be somethin' else to tend to, I 'spose." The '^something else" arrived soon after, mustering by twos and threes. We--suddenly grown sedate--overheard their agitated whispers ere entering. "You go in first." "No! you--you're the oldest," &c. It takes a long time to thaw the ice of New England reserve, in these secluded districts. It is as hard as that wreathing the surrounding mountain summits; but when spring forces surge within-as they do surely, though tardily-lo! the crust cracks and quivers, and through the fissures you catch a gleam of the social fires smouldering there. So these rustic swains ventured cautiously, with prolonged, embarrassed pauses, toward the genial conversational fire, rattling and sparkling merrily among the girls; then they began to get their courage up, and to hitch/ their chairs a little in that direction, and to change their locality, and to walk about with less and less restraint. From this stage there was but one desparate leap to the rollicking fun and clatter of later hours. " Plays" followed in eager succession. "Judg- ments" were performed with a celerity unsurpassed in criminal annals. Jokes mingled freely, whetted to an edge so keen, that the dullest could not fail of perceiving and ap- plying the point. Through it all drifted down to us Debby's mournful tone, wailing through an old song: page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 RUBINA/ "When last I saw my Love to' the church she did go, -Bridegroom and bridesmaids they made a fine show, And I followed after with my heart full of woe For to see how my Love she was-guarded.' How distinct and sad the words came to us, by the rest unnoticed. And when she came to -the last verse her voice rose, as if with prescient fear, and swept outward in a wilder echo, midway between a dirge and a shriek: "'I'll dig me a grave both long, wide, and deep, I'll cover it over with roses so sweet, And I'll lay me down in'it, to take my long sleep, For Love's been the cause of my ruin. For Love's been the cause of my ruin." But it ceased at last, and as the old clock slowly chimed the midnight hour they began to grow quiet, and to speak of leaving. As they waited for the teams to drive up, sun- dry whisperings 'floated dreamily round the dimly lighted room, from couples blissfully hand-locked, standing in cor- ners and window recesses. I stood alone by the fireplace, filled with painful reflections, when near me I caught Mark's voice prudently lowered for Olive's ear. There was a fond, * eager question, and a timid, tender response; and then he added a little louder, and I fancied regretfully: "I have made up my mind, but no one knows how hard the struggle has been to give up " "Who?" queried Olive, archly. He finished. "The hope of being something very, very different. I feel no special calling for the Church. I have a dim notion at times that it is perjury." "You will love it beyond everything, when you fairly begin your career," she answered, with enthusiasm. TRUBMNXA. 203 i"You would make the better minister," he responded. "For you love the office, and I, do not However, the past is buried. I burned my brushes the other day. Let what will come, I never will touch paint or pencil again. A grand bon- fire they made. I hope mother will be satisfied. I am;"' and he bent a fond look downward. I went up to them: "I heard you, Mark!"I thought it best to say simply. " The devil you did " he replied, hotly. "And what business have you to be around listening " His brow cleared directly. "Oh!, well, it's no secret," he-added, as if recollecting. "This little maiden has promised to be a minister's wife some day; poor taste inher, I must confess, but I won't grumble." His old, gay manner assumed sway again. I gave him a look full of pity. I would not com- prehend such an ignoble withdrawal of buoyant, glorious aspirations to the level of the common-place; it looked to my eyes but dust for gold, no matter if the dust were real, and the gold very far away in the future, and very uncertain. Hope affords more and better nutriment for a longing soul, than present possession of something undesired, crowned by bitter discontent. However, I merely said: "You have been a long time in deciding." "Well, I am but a vacillating dog, after all," he said, sighp ing. "I suppose I shall be what I shall be, however," he added slowly. "That is incomprehensible; or does it signify a theological mystery?"He did not hear or heed me. " Olive," he pursued thoughtfully, "I am not eloquent; I never can be. You will blush, with deserved mortification, at my wretched failures in that line." page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 RUBIA. As I turned away I heard her solemn response, low, sweet, and trustful: "Dear Mark, power cometh with grace from on high. I am not afraid, neither need you fear." CHAPTER Xv1n11. ONLY two weeks remained-to Thanksgiving, weeks of un- ceasing activity. A silk dress arrived from Chispa, in a brown paper wrapper, duly directed, with the proper shop flourishes, to "Miss Amanda M. Martin." This was an event in the household; and the delicate lavender and white bro- cade when unfolded and hung over a chair-back, fully justified our extravagant phrases of admiration. Debby was of the opinion that "'Mandy would look like a June pink in her roas -meats; though," she added, with a view to utility "she never can step foot out-doors in that are gown in all this world; never! Seems to me it's a dreadful foolish busi- ness. If it'd 'a been black now, it'd 'a been worth somethin' quite a spell." "She can color it after the wedding isover," demurely observed Mark; and Debby instantly acquiesced, with an after rueful suggestion that "'t'won't never be so shiny acer it." Animated conferences were held as to the style of making. Demis insisted on a surplice bodice with elaborate puffings of lace. Aunt Rhoda stoutly maintained her point, the "mellcn waist, producing the argument that "her'n was made up so, when she stepped off," meaning her sister Han- nah's. I being a novice held no opinions,--a fact all novices would do well to note. The final result of these discussions RUBINA. 205 was the sending to town the bride-elect, to put herself and belongings into the hands of the experienced. Violent snow-storms heralded the approach of Thanks- giving. Huge drifts, firmly crusted over, lay on vale and hill, and in the moonlit evenings rang far and near the merry shouts of the coasters. ,The pond, too, wore a glittering sur- face, but was pronounced as yet unsafe for the skeaers. Days of melancholy, yet cheerful waste, when the sky was one vast white plain, and the earth another; when the rug- ged mountains wore a white veil, and the hill-sides lay swathed in a winding-sheet, and the vales were raised to a level with higher land by means of this kindly material; when every tree and shrub did its slender part toward wear- ing the wedding raiment; when even the birds who linger with us change their brown plumage for white, and only the matter-of-fact things of man's creation, upright brown and red sides of barns, sheds, houses, hold out a sturdy belief in their own better hue. But Nature does all she can for such obstinates, dropping a snowy ridge on eaves and chimney-tops, and along the fences, to keep them in countenance with her -far and wide-pure surroundings. Dwight and Nathaniel spent their evenings coasting, and Demis and. I frequently accompanied them. Many an ex- hilarating race we had down the long hills. .We were the ungrateful recipients of sundry tumbles and bruises, as, de- spite skilful guidance, our steel-shod sled would frequently veer like a worn-out weather-vane, and send us whirling down the frozen surface. Uncle Joel looked up from his paper rather thoughtfully one evening, upon our entrance to the kitchen--"Boys, where do you go to slide?" said he. "Why, down by the Alum Rocks," answered Demis, quickly. page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 1UBINA. "Wall, I mistrusted so," said' her father. i I don't want to spile your sport, but I wish you'd jest go some'ers else; there's oceans of hills all round us, so you can't go fur out o' the way." After a pause-"I'm 'mazed you should go there, Dwight. Natty don't know no better. Don't you know what a dangerous place 'tis? .Rocks right below you hundreds and hundreds of feet, and at the bottom a pool of water, I don't know how deep; guess 'taint never been sounded. Wall! to stan' down there and look up, it's as perpendicular as that are stove-pipe, and no mistake. When I was a youngster," he resumed, with a' retrospective glance at the ceiling, "I remember well 'bout the Alum Rocks; 'twas there little Sammy Miller was drownded-went off like shot while slidin, and when they got him out-poor little feller! I never see anybody so hack'd and hew'd. I stood roun' r while they searched. You remember it, don't you, Rhody" " "Yis, indeed?!" said she; '"'twas an awful Providence; and his father was killed in the fullen' mill, right away after; got ketched in the belt, and couldn't stop; went over and over the big wheel. Poor Widder Miller's had a pretty hard time on't, take it all round; allers been as poor as Job's turkey, and allers will be. I remember it well, Joel, 'cause Elder Lee preached a powerful affectin' discourse. Le'me see! I haint forgot the text, I guess: 'The ways of the Lord are wonderful, and past finding out.' I shan't forget-it to my dyin' day. Though, comin' hum from meetin', Miss Purse said that 'twan't a primin' to the one he preached when her grand'ther died, down in Chicopee Valley. He was brought here, you know, Joel. Everybody said 'twas foolish to send so far for a minister, and -then come right back with the corpse, but 'twas his request, and them things should allers be attended two." RUBINRL 20T , Wall, wall," said Uncle Joel, uneasily. "Mind you don't go anywheres near that place agin. I shan't take a mite o' comfort ef you do." "I must say," remarked Aunt Rhoda, the nextS-morning, coming into the keeping-room, where Demis and I sat pla- cidly sewing carpet-rags-long strips of gay colors, and winding, as fast as we joined the ends, into a huge ball-- "that are copperas sets beautiful; 'twon't fade nuther, I guess, an' it don't crock much, do you think it does, Debby I I s'pose you know," she went on, "that there's lots to be done this week, and we may as well go 'bout it fust as last. After prayer-meeting last night, I run up hum' to Sary Purse'es, and she giv' me her rule for plum-cake. She says she allers has good luck, but the best people miss it some- times. Mine used to be fust-rate, but I don't know what; somehow, latterly it don't work right. It ought to be good, for there's enough good things in't. Deborah says Ive lost my knack, and sometimes I think so too. Now, one of you try, and see how you'll make out. I thought that mabbee I could prevail on Lovicy Lovejoy to come down -an' stay a spell, and chore it; she's famous for wedding-cake, so I up and run up there too. I was sorry afterwards; it's sech a stretch to Biscuit Hill; for I had my labor for my pains. She'd gone over to Cyrus'es, in Little Falls, and nobody knew when she'd be back." "It's curus how that woman does gad," put inDebby. "I should think in some o' her traviis she'd pick up a man; but she don't seem to, does she ." "Perhaps she don't want one," observed Demis. '; Humph?' and Debby significantly nodded her head. ,' Never mind!" said I, impatiently, " we can make it, I should hope. How many kinds are there to be, Aunt?" page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] Mu8 RUBINA. She meditated a moment,'resting the rolling-pin on the table, and her arm on that. ." Le'me see; there's plum-cake and sponge-cake, an' pound-cake's three, and cup-cake's four, and Washington-cake's five, and there's a new kind that the Purse'es was tellin' 'bout. Olive see some on't down to the Mills'es at the Harbor. It's baked in round tins, and put on top one 'nuther, with jell' spread between. We'll try it, I guess, and that's six. That's enough, a great plenty; with cookies and ginger-snaps, and a few sech like, in the way of small ammunition." -"'I guess," said Demis, archly, as we got fairly at work proading loaf-sugar and seeding raisins, "your thoughts were more on r more on receipts than hymns, mother, at meetin' last night, according to your tell." "I guess you don't know every thing, Demis Martin," re- joined 'her mother, quickly. "It wan't a Sabba'-day, so there's no killin' crime in neighborin' a little after meetin's out." She took up an egg, and tapped it gently with an iron spoon. "How many does that resate say ought! to go in here, Ruby?" she thoughtfully inquired, as she -vigorously whipped the broken yolks into yellow foam. She re-commenced: ," We had an oncommon interesting season last night. I never see sech a subdued look, as you may say, on all the faces. I don't know how 'twas, but all seemed to feel as if the Spirit was strivin' in our midst, and a callin' on sinners to give up their stubborn hearts. Elder Fuller spoke very affectin'; he said he, thought he saw signs of a revival of the faith. Deacon Sweet, too, made a very feelin' prayer. He said he was willin', for his part, to give up all arthly idols that might hender the work of Grace; and he besought- the Lord to come and show forth his salvation. I tell you, there wan't scurs'ly a dry eye in the room. I couldn't help RUBINAL 209 thinkin' that p'rhaps he was the ordained instrument to bring- . about what he prayed for; for, as soon as he finished, some riz for prayers, and a good many more looked as ef they wanted to, but dursn't. And then the Elder, he got up and prayed that pride might be utterly consumed, and all carnal- desires, and a heart of flesh given 'em for their hearts of stun." "Of course!" impatiently pronounced Demis. "That's what they always say. But who rose?" "Le'me see," she reflected. "There was Avis Purse, was the first one who got up; she's the only one who ain't a professor in the Purse family, and I tell you her mother's eyes glistened, when she stood up on the Lord's side. Then Ki Cramer got up, and arter a spell Lorany Sweet, and then Natty, and then-" "What! our -little Natty?' cried Demis, in amazement. "To be sure," placidly returned Aunt Rhoda. "He's old enough. I felt like gettin' right down on my knees, to give praises.. I wish Dwight had been there. I s'pose its Useless askin' you two to go," she said sadly; "Ye will not come unto me, that ye might have life;" "a Don't talk to me /" said Debby, briskly filling patty-pans, "nobody won't make me believe, if they stand over me with a drawn sword, that Lorany Sweet 'll ever git religion. I don't care if she is a deacon's darter. I mean the rale gini- : wine article. There's a sight o' professors now days; but I : don't come across no practicers. I 'spose there be some, Dnly I don't happen to light on 'em." Here she paused to taste the mixture she was putting into the oven, and to observe doubtfully, "Massy! Ruby, I'm fraid you hain't got pearlash enough in this ere. Seems to - ne it don't taste jest right; but I don't know, I'm only a 1 page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 RUBIA. passenger." She gave it a submissive look, and shoved it into the oven. "Wall," she resumed, " arter she came a flyin' int' the sanctu- ary, that ere Sabba'-day, a rigged out in the manner she was, and so brazen-faced about it, too ; I jest made up my mind that all hands might as well save their breath to cool their por- -ridge with, as to try to convert her. You never heardI o' that, did you, Ruby? Why, you see 'twas in the dead o' winter, and bitter cold. It seems some one dared her to do it, so she. up and said, she jest as lieves as not. She marched in after Elder Lee had got through the heads of his discourse, and begun on the application; right down the broad aisle she streaked it, straight to the deacon's pew. The strangest looking mortal ever you sot eyes on. She had on a pink calico gown, low neck and short sleeves, and sech a scrawny neck, my stars! and a black bombazette apurn on; she didn't wear no shawl, only a black lace veil throwed over her ears to keep 'em from freezin'. I never seq in all my born days, anybody so beat as her father was, when he looked up and found that apparition waitin' to be let int' the pew, lookin' jest as innocent as if she's in the nicest plight in the world. He looked mad enough, too. I bet she catched it when she got home; but law! what'd she care for that. I guess she'll have to haul In her horns if she actilly gits, int' the church. She ought to have a guardeen put over her." "I remember it as plain as day," added Aunt Rhoda, "she got an awful cold, jest worried through it, and that's all. I'm glad Grace has laid hold of her at last.". "Humph! Grace has got a powerful tough customer," muttered Debby. "There's no tellin', but she may be a bright and shinin light yit. The wind bloweth where it listeth, and ye heareth RUBINA. 2" the sound thereof; but where it bloweth, or whither it cometh, who can tell? solemnly said Aunt Rhoda. "Well, Miss,"--rather curtly-" what are you so smilin' about? I hope you ain't laughin' at Scriptur." "No! mother, I was only thinking of the prayer-meeting for young converts at Chloe Scott's. Olive told me all about it. I don't know how Loraina came to be there; but she. knelt and prayed with the rest; she prayed for every thing, and everybody, and finally wound up by wishing they might all have a foretaste of perdition, and Chloe Scott a double por. tion, and she went on in the same strain until Mrs. Scott came in, and sent her home." "The massy on us!" cried Deborah, with uplifted' eye- brows. "I should say as much." "I wonder she wan't struck dead," rejoined Aunt Rhoda. "Chloe says, she never can forgive her in all this world, never!" pursued Demis; " she can't bear the sight of her." "Wall, she oughter," said her mother, decisively. "It ain't showin' a Christian sperrit; forgive till seventy times seven, the good book says. But Lorany's a different creetur now." "I hope she'll stay so a spell; long 'nough for us to see how she looks," rejoined Debby, carelessly. "Lordy! gals, how this cake has riz up. It'll do for 'em to whet away upon,. I guess." Thus the week passed, filled with work from morning to evening-void of incident, save the fulfilment of Debby's sad prophecy. All Northfield was startled to hear of poor Kitty's premature end. It cast deep gloom over the village- saddening the approaching festivities. On hearing the tidings, I threw on my shawl and ran up the road, to see if it could be true. I met Olive Pierce coming down'to tell us. 4 page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 RUBINA. "Yes!" said she, "it is true., I was down there yester- day. She was in high spirits as usual, and said that she was coming here this afternoon for a visit; she should ride Bessy, and give Annah a ride before she went home. I presume she started with this intent, for they found her down by the red bridge dead; her pony standing quite still, whisking his tail, and looking down on her, as though wondering why she did not get up and mount him." "*Have you seen her parents, Olive?" "Yes! I went there as soon as I could, to see if I could be of use, but the house was full and all in confusion. I could only get into the entry, so I came away. I saw her mother, through the open sitting-room door. She appeared very wild. Two or three ladies were grouped around her. The Elder, they say, is very calm." "It is a terrible shock to us all, Olive. Poor Kitty! So full of life, and health, and hope. To think she should be snatched from it all so suddenly. Come in." We had neared the gate. "No, not to-night," she answered, " as I've seen you." However, she seemed in no hurry to turn back, .and we stood leaning over the low pickets, pursuing the sad theme, until our voices grew husky and silent. My hand rested on the fence; she gathered it tightly in her warm palms. "How cold it is! It is like death itself," she said, starting. "Do you feel so chilly?" "Not in the least. It is constitutional, I think. They are always-cold." She gently chafed it, until it glowed under her magnetic touch. Her voice sank to a caressing murmur: "My dear, you know what Mark said the other night 2" "Yes! He intimated that " She interrupted. 't But somehow I don't feel its truth. RUBINA. 213 I cannot tell you why. I see no reason to doubt, but some- thing will surely happen. There may, you know. It will be so very, very long before "Nonsense!"I said stoutly. "Don't"let us have any more- presentiments of evil. It's natural-your gloom to- night. I, too, feel it, but no sibylline foreshadowings. A night's rest, Olive, will effectually strangle them." "Then you don't credit your evil stars:" she looked searchingly in my face. ' You don't look as if you did. I don't think I ever saw you sad but once; that first night you came here. You had a woe-begone face then; thin, pinched, and sallow, with great dreamy eyes. When next I saw you, it did not look the same face at all." , Demis wrought the change, if any there were, by giving her rich, generous heart in exchange for my dwarfed, sickly one." "And you have no sadness now?" she interrupted. "Indeed, I hope not. If trouble must fold her sable wings in my domain, the quickest and surest riddance is to smile her out of the open door, and bid her a genial ' God speed.' I don't want her. She is a guest as unwelcome as a superannuated, imbecile cousin of the fortieth remove, and poor at that, quartering herself uninvited in the house of a rich relative. Is the comparative tension too tightly strained? I think not. I am rich--not, perhaps, as the people about us estimate riches, in house, and lands,. and safe bank-stock; my indigence there might gratify the bitterest enemy I am ever like to have. But that does not trouble my sleep at night, I assure you. In youth and its wealth of vigorous hope; in bodily-and, I hope, mental-health; in un- daunted energy and perseverance, I count my fortunes."' Olive smiled. ("Yes," she said. "Your wealth in that page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 RUBIN A. species of property is undoubted and reproductive. I never knew a more hopeful character. If it could go on forever thus!" she added, dreamily, as if to herself;- "forever plan- ning and anticipating. What will she do when youth has departed, and health flown on the wings of exertion . Hope will never beguile them back for another trial. And old age comes slowly but surely. Independence and fame are ha- bitually shy of approach." "I will earn them long ere that time arrive," I confidently answered. "When they turn to mock my eager pursuit, and flutter from my'grasping fingers, I will again give chase. Olive, you bird of evil omen, I will overtake the fickle dame and bring her to terms right speedily. The slough of de- spondency shall never furnish me with more than a night's lodging." She was silent. "You little know," I pursued; "how much I think of the future. I am an orphan, with a child to rear and educate. I must do it. I will, do it. How, when, and where, is still a mystery for that friendly future to solve. If I could leave Northfield! I can work my way to the light, slowly, slowly; or if my father would come back and help to make the task'easy. Alone! that is a trial, Olive, you know little of." Despite her sweetness, a look of scorn crossed her face as I mentioned my father, but she quickly suppressed it. "That is true," she answered, sadly, " but every heart must fight its own battles, and weep for its own sorrows; my lot is neither so bright or peaceful as you think. Hush!" as I was going to reply. Looking up, I beheld Mark standing in the path. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead--thus tacitly sending me in. UBIJNB- 215 CHAPTER XIX. THE auspicious morn rose bright and clear. Great golden banks of cloud scudded across the eastern skies, paling to clear white before a flood of brilliant sunshine. ," Bless me!" ejaculated Demis, sleepily rubbing open her eyes, "there's a wedding on the docket." ," There's a wedding on the docket," echoed Annah, imi- tating her exact manner. Children mould their standard of excellencies in character by one or two persons. They are not alchemists, to single out from individuals solitary traits of goodness. It is rather complete attraction or repulsion. Win fully their childish fancy, and forever after you may walk in its innocent, devotion*' there is no speech so perfect as yours, nor manners more elegant, nor learning to surpass your scanty attainments. Thus Annah doted on her cousin, scru- pulously following every action, repeating, parrot-like, her quaint expressions, until one day Demis awoke to the fact and set a guard upon her lips, while it made her love the child more dearly. Breakfast was soon dispatched. A fire kindled in the dark, solemn, " great room." Debby said that " the bewfut needed a turn or two with the wax," so she polished it until it shone like a mirror. Thrown open, it ostentatiously re- vealed glittering white china, overrun with gilt sprigs, and a silver teapot-my aunt's wedding portion, and never used. Bunches of "Live for Ever" and "Bitter Sweet" glowed on the high wooden mantel, in diminutive glass mugs-the latter adorned with a painted wreath, and the injunction, "Remember Me." There were also a pair of vases, declat. page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216. RUBINA. ing themselves "A Present to Maria," and "For Demis," in blue lettering; a peach. of colored china, and a companion orange, which Debby threatened to "take Annah in hand" for touching; a whale's tooth sufficiently ugly, and an alum basket containing cards: artistic affairs they were, of wreaths and scrolls, testifying to the legitimacy of "Friendship's Offering," and signed by the donor's name. On either end of the mantel towered in polished pride a veritable silver candlestick. The ponderous table supported the family Bible and the "Life of Adoniram Judson," rather ludicrously flanked by sundry diminutive profiles of the Martin family, cut in black silk, and pasted on white paper; looking, for any thing the impartial observer could discover, like an ego- tistical repetition of one set of features; and a pair of white rabbits, composed of soft, firrv flannel, with brown straws for whiskers, and twinkling black beads for eyes. Heavy freights of uncles, aunts, and buxom cousins, "on the Martin side," arrived-all especially invited to the late Thanksgiving dinner. As evening closed in over the glitter- ing road, rang fast and faster the tramp of hoofs. The house was full when the minister arrived. The dense crowd opened right and left with sympathetic reverence, and up- turned faces involuntarily saddened at sight of the broad mourning band on his hat, and at thought of the lonely, bereaved mother at home, weeping out her holiday. Words are inadequate to picture the serene content of Aunt Rhoda's face, as she bustled from room to room, performing with anxious care the part of an attentive hostess,-or Uncle Joel's jolly complacency-which nothing could fret; his jokes-followed by scores from other gray-haired sires-not witty always, but certainly harmless, and hailed with raptur- ous bursts of mnerriment,--nor of the abundant table with its RUBINA. 217 row of the six kinds of cake-each a snowy pyramid-and the " small ammunition" doing duty at corners. Space will not permit me to chronicle the favorable criticisms from thrifty matrons; each was declared superior to its prede- cessor, and " the best they ever see :" nor the sly allusions of young men and maidens, as they wrapped bits of the bride's loaf into tiny parcels to " dream on:" nor the momentous hush, as the whisper thrilled through the throng, " they are coming:" nor the solemn prayer that rose, and the simple ceremony, diluted with sobs from tender-hearted damsels; and the longer following prayer, in which the young couple were dosed with the usual quota of desperately good coun- sel: nor of the riotous fun of the succeeding hours. The last sleigh of " old folks" sounded its departure. Uncle Joel and his weary wife retired after seeing Annah, who resisted sturdily, dragged away to bed by Debby. "Now!" said Eliel Prince, "now's the time. Mrs. Martin said we might stay till midnight, and it'll soon be here." "Well!" remarked Eben Skinner, "I fetched it along with me; but I left it in the cutter. I kinder misdoubted, if, arter all, 'twould do to bring it in. I can git it in a jiffy, if you say the word." "I don't know," said Mark, rather doubtfully. "Mother's opposed to dancing. She will send you all home. I give you fair warning." "I guess I know that," retorted Eliel, with a chuckle. "However, a few good old country dances won't kill any- body. I'll risk it." "This room is on the other side of the house from mother's," observed Demis, encouragingly. "I'll close the doors between, and if you play low, Eben, and can omit that horrid squealing at the beginning, she won't hear it." 10 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 ' RUBINA. "Certain," assented Eben, "I tuned it all up as slick as a mitten, 'fore I left home; so form for Money Musk; if you please, gen'lemen and ladies, or ladies and gen'lemen, which- ever way you'll have it. I'll call off." "Low! call low!" cautioned Demis. I did not dance; but I found ample amusement in watch- ing the rest. How they flew to the muffled tones of the little violin, and Eben's shrill whisper, commanding them to 'swing once and ahalf round ;" "forward in lines," and "ladies chains." We got a fright once, and the dancers stopped, as the door quaked suddenly; but it was only Deborah, who happened to like music as well as any of us, and, after the first ejaculation, sat quietly down, holding her delighted peace. ', A ieetle trifle lower, Eben," she said coaxingly; "I heard it way up-stairs. It's so shrill, I should think the dead in their graves might hear it, much less Mis'. Martin, who's got pesky sharp ears. She'll settle your hash for you, if she does hear it." - Now for the Twin Sisters," called the master of ceremo- nies as they paused, flushed and breathless. "Balance all! Down the middle, and up the outside," shouted Eben, *who was getting excited. Demis looked hard at him: "Wall, we'll rest a bit," said he, wiping his streaming forehead. "Gi! how, warm 'tis. I s'pope though, there's no such thing as opening one o' them doors," and he took up his bow with surprising resignation; " so take your places for Op'ry Reel," he sang out in seamanlike style; when round went the mad gambols more furiously than before. Bravo!" whispered Mark-also a spectator--" if mother cannot hear this she must be gxowing deaf. She would spin it off pretty quick if she did--" Do se do," chimed in Eben, "Down the outside," he 219 whistled, "Back to back! all primenade! seat your par- desers." r"And form for the Tempest," added Eliel, breathlessly. "Quick, boys! I have a dismal foreboding, strengthened by a sound which smites my unwilling ears. We'll finish this *though," he cried, triumphantly. "There's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip," muttered Debby. * It was indeed a tempest; seemingly inextricable convolu- tions, revolving themselves lear at last, intermixed with im- promptu "pigeon wings" from the masculine row, and the unruly violin piping shrill defiance to prudential motives, as round spun the whole troop until- Suddenly Eben drop- ped his bow as if it had been red-hot, for the door was flung quickly open; filling that space stood Aunt Rhoda, with irate brow, and flashing eyes, and-tpeeping over her shoulder- her more amiable husband; his face sober with amazement. "What's all this 2" she sharply asked. "The Tempest," meekly replied Eben, scratching his head in bewilderment. " The tempest!" she echoed scornfully. "I should think so. A pretty how-d'ye-do this is. I never thought 'twould come to this in my own house. Never! Dancing! And most on you professors, too!"She turned with a sudden movement upon Mark. :' rm astonished at you, Sir. A blessed example this is; and 'fore I'll submit to be put upon so, and by a ---" "Now, now, -Rhody," interrupted her husband, anxiously, for mother and son stood steadily confronting each other. Her face absolutely glared with passion; his--calm and white- as full of the look of a long-hunted beast, fairly turned at bay. It was the first time I had seen resolution stamping itself on those mirthfill, gently-defined features. I * page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] -220 RUBINAD liked the change. A moment they stood thus in perfect silence, his eyes riveted to hers, waiting only for her lipssto finish the sentence. They quivered; parted to speak; closed again-compressed with strong resolve. Uncle Joel forced as laugh. "Pshaw! Now, mother, don't be hard on the young folks. I haint forgot the day I'd a' walked four miles and over for a chance o' shakin' my heel. I ruther dance than eat when I'se hungry; that was 'fore this rheumacy-took hold o' me -so. It's a good joke, though, stealin' the march on us old folks, arter sendin' on us off to bed," and he laughed this time heartily. "A good joke, indeed," she exclaimed, hotly. "I don't see what there is to laugh at, Mr. Martin; and during a revi- val too. It's the wiles of the devil, more likely. At any rate, it's a joke that's played out; so pack up your traps Mister Ebin Skinner, and march. Quick! I don't stir from here one foot till you do." In spite of this abrupt termination of festivities, all seemed to consider the past pleasure worth the present price, and as they drove from the door I heard them laughing heartily at their abrupt dismissal. CHAPTER XX. ' THE week following was too quiet. It begat almost intol- erable ennui. Ira and Amanda commenced housekeeping. The transient excitement this step occasioned-the packing and moving successfully disposed of one entire day--exhaled with the last departure, and we relapsed into irksome soli. 24 PITBINA. 221 tude. Debby, Demis, and myself filled the afternoon hours with listless sewing, while Aunt Rhoda made neighborly visits, and attended meetings. One day we sat thus as usual. From the eastern window a wintry prospect spread far and wide. Twilight was prematurely descending. The leaden sky gave promise of approaching storms. "I declare," said Demis, abruptly, "I never would have supposed that we would miss Amanda so much." "I knew we should' miss her," replied Debby, in a satisfied tone. Yes," I said, " especially after so many weeks of sport. Our sliding is over. Your mother has discovered, Demis, that ' young wimmen grown did'nt slide -in her day.' How- ever," I added, after a pause, " if we play, Amanda's carpet will never be finished." "I think it'll be a han'some one," observed Debby. "Just you look now at this ere stripe," holding up a huge ball of shreds, all colors and textures, sewed indiscriminately to- gether. "This stripe's called hit or miss, and it's well named too. It sets off the orange and red powerful." There was another dispirited silence, which Debby broke by say- ing: "I think it's downright gloomy latterly, and 'taint all because there's been so much junketing, as you gals seem to think. I tell you somethin's goin' to happen." "I wonder what?" said Demis, tartly. "You are always harping on that theme, Debby-' Something to happen!'. I'm sure I wish there would. I wish the schoolmaster would come, if nothing more." "And what more could there be "' inquired Debby, mali- ciously. "You'll miss it one o' these days, lottin on that are man so, let me tell you.' "I don't care one straw about him," said-'Demis, hotly. page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] "You do, and you know it. Ruby knows it, too, if she's got any gift at all." "It's December, and time 'for the school to open," I hastened to observe. "Wall, set your mind to rest; he'll haul in next week; I heard the deacon say so yesterday. What good'1l it all do ye, gals? You know enough already," said Debby, with scorn. Demis laughed. "I should want to die at once if I thought so,'" said she wistfully, " should you not, Ruby 8? "I don't think so now, Demis.. I cling to life. It will take a great sin, or suffering, to bring me to that desire. And then I believe I should prefer joining the Sisters of Charity, to contribute my mite toward assuaging human sorrow. God bless the holy sisters! They deserve the meed of saintship hereafter. Their ranks are never too full; their hearts never shut and double-barred against the erring. Their hands are not too delicate to minister to the victim of a loathsome dis- ease, nor too white to wipe away the bloody stain from the criminal. . When good orthodox Christian dwellings refuse to receive the outcast, and the pampered expounder of Christ's words on earth puts on a severely rebuking face, and frowns at her in holy horror, then she turns to the unostentatious cell of human sympathy in Popish bosoms, and is never denied admittance." "But they end by converting the heretic," observed De- mis, triumphantly. "'Pears to me, if I was one o' them critturs Ruby's been speakin' of," interrupted Debby, "I should be amazin' -glad ; to get converted over to their ways.. Ev'ry body'd oughter jine 'em right off; there's no two ways 'bout it. I hope-they d(nt have hard work to git 'em over. Sech folks never'll git very fore-handedhere, but they lend to the Lord. Eldir i ' ' - Fuller, now, talks a great deal 'bout proselitin', and sech trumpery. I don't b'lieve the Catholics do it any mor'n the Baptists and Methodists and Bluelights; and if I was goin' to be put through the proselytin' business a'tallI'd bet I'd go where I could git some benefit from'it. Talk to me 'bout " She paused, looking incensed at Demis's ring- ing laugh, and subsided into a reproachful silence. "Go on, Debby," said Demis, wickedly. "Oh you can poke fun at me if you've a mind to, I'm nothin' but. a passenger," said Debby, meekly. "Nonsense!"I cried, "You'r6'the conductor of this train." "No," she said, still in a meek fashion, which never re. mained long. "I remember, Demis, going once with my mother to visit a hospital. I recall every detail of the well-ordered building. There were vast airy rooms, hung around with Romish pic- tures, and liberally supplied with plaster images of the cruci- fixion. The patients' cells were models of neatness. Sister Agatha showed us around. She had a sweet fair face, which even her ugly flapping bonnet could not spoil. I fell in love with her directly. She laughed so pleasantly when I told her ' I should like to come there if I ever should be sick.' "I thought nuns were shy and gloomy," said Demis. "Sister Agatha talked very freely. There was a cabinet of articles for sale in the refectory-crosses, Madonnas, rosaries -the proceeds to go toward defraying the expenses of the institution. She wished to give me a little crucifix, but my mother motioned it back. She gave me a lecture upon for- wardness, when I got home, saying it was wicked to worship those things." "Hark "' cried Debby, suddenly, as there came a rap on the outside door. ' . , page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 RKULsfA 'That's a welcome sound!" cried Demis, springing up hastily, fand sweeping her lapful of woollen bits into- the basket. "I'm glad company is coming at last. I began to - think that our friends had all deserted us. Well!' was all she said, as she came slowly back, and resumed her seat. *"Who was it, Demis? A peddler?" "I wish it might have been," she retorted. "I havn't seen one in an age. No one was there." "I certainly heard a knock," I rejoined, as positively. "I thought so too,' said she, "but it seems we were both mistaken." Rap, rap, rap, distinct, positive, leaving no room for doubt. I flew to the door ere the last vibration, fully expecting to catch our mischievous visitor, but started back in amaze, for no one stood there. W "Well! why don't you ask them in?" cried Debby, iron- ically. "It's one of the boy's tricks," I remarked, coolly returning; "and they doubtless are hidden in full view of the door, laughing at our surprised faces. It's an old joke; let them have it to themselves." They did have it. Apparently, they resolved to be not easily disheartened. On the front door, on the kitchen door, and, when we were not looking up, on the windows. The vibrations of one hardly ceased ere its fellow sounded. "Those foolish youths are giving themselves needless trouble," said Demis, at last, looking up, and dropping her work wearily, "I'm tired of hearing it." She cast an an- noyed glance at- the door. "Them ain't the boys' doin's," solemnly responded Debby, I ve heerd em Afpre now, when no livin' soul was by, and I knowed they'd come-ag'in. And they have." *** X RUBA. 22 "Of course," retorted Demis, scornfully. "They will come until they get sick of it, or until mother comes home from covenant meeting. I'll warrant they'll stop then." "Maybe, and maybe not,"- stoutly maintained the seeress. "One might as well talk to a stun as to try to tell you any- thin', Demis. I tell you-you may b'lieve it or not, as you've" a mind to--I've heerd them noises off and on for ever so long. Furthermore, I tell you that 'taint nothin' new to me to hear 'em; but they never come-no, never! but what some one died soon after. I know what 'tis. It's a warnin' call. Now," she pursued, as if relieved at having spoken her mind, '"I think it's downright wicked, and a temptin' of Providenoe, to make light o' sech matters"--we were smiling --" mabby you'll think on what I'm tellin' ye, one of these days, if anythin' should happen." It would be strange, indeed, if nothing ever happened," I said. , "You know, Debby, that Elder Fuller says it's a deceitful and a dying world." "He don't know nothin' 'bout it," she retorted, with scorn, "' but, we'll drop -the subject, for there comes Mis' Martin, hum from meetin'; and if she is a clever woman, I must say she's dreadful sot against some things. I declare, it's time to git supper too; after five o'clock, as true as preachin'!" and muttering something about " seein' to startin' up that are fire," she trotted off to the kitchen. "Mother, were there any new converts 8?" asked Demis. "No,'" she replied; " no new ones. Some told their ex- periences, and some on 'em was quite lengthy, but desp'rate interistin'. Hesekiah Cramer said he was struck with con- viction when he wa'n't mor'n twelve year old. It's a sign we never ought to give up laborin' for sinners, and I've hopes of you yit, girls. He said he was down sullar one day, sortin 10* page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] o: -U RUBINA. over apples ; 'twas jest after a revival meetin', and all to once -a, t somethin' come across him like a flash of lightnin'. 'Twas that are passage of Scriptur, where it speaks of sep'ratin' the sheep from the goats. Said he to himself-' that's jest what I'm doin'. I'm puttin' the sound apples car'fully in a barrel *by themselves, to keep; but the old rotten ones I throw helter-skelter in a heap, and carry 'em off anywhere to git red of 'em. They are good for nothin'. Why shouldn't -Jesus do as he please with his own, and where shall I be when he sorts his apples Many the windfalls, I spect, or worser yit, the rotten ones, that have been, or might have been good for suthin'.' Wal, he said it overcome him so that he sot right down to think; and he made up his mind that he wan't on the right track to salvation, an' he up and made a string o' good resolutions; but, after a spell, they sort o' died away, and then come another call. Like Jacob of old, he fought sorely, and wrestled long with the sperrit for the vic- 'try-and he did overcome it. Then-he said-he was a backslider. He had stuck to the faith through all, but he didn't enjoy savin' grace as he used to, and now he'd had a third call. He broke down, right there, and for the life o' him, couldn't say anuther word. I declare 'twas a solemn scene. I didn't know afore, that he was engaged to have Kitty, but they say he had been keepin' company with her a year, and over. Nathaniel's evidences, too, was satisfact'ry. I'm 'fraid Dwight's gittin' hardened; he didn't appear af- fected none while his brother was talkin'." "Aunt," I broke in quickly, " were the boys there until you came away?" "Sure. I'd like to catch one on 'em leavn 'fore meetin's out. I'd show 'em how to ride on a fullin-mill, I warrant ye." -"And Mark, too?" queried, Demis incredulously. JLM U JLj1 d. "Why, yis. Seems to me you're uncommon cur'us. Mark spoke quite a spell, and made as good a prayer as you'll often hear. He come right out afore 'em all, and said he'd dedi- cated his life to the cause, to be a gospil minister. Arter meetin' Mis' Purse asked him hum to tea. I guess," she added, bridling her long neck, and untying her cap-strings, "I guess theythink he's good enough now. An elder, you see, ain't to be sneezed at, and-they'd be loth to own it- but they allus did seem to think Olive a leetle better'n com- mon folks." I slipped away to the kitchen to assist in preparing tea. Debby was in the "buttery," with a huge loaf of bread in her arms. She took up the carving knife, and, pressing the loaf firmly against her. bodice, began hewing off thick slices,- nodding her head at every vigorous lurch of the knife, as if to assist it in working its passage. "Wall, child," she ob- served, "this ere's a strange world we live in, ain't it? There's a dreadful sight a goin' on all the while. W- e make a great fuss about our goin's out and comin's in, and after all-come to sum it up-what does it amount to? Nothin' under the sun, but jest bein' horned, bein' afflicted, and then dyin' jest when you git reconciled to livin' a spell longer. We don't have our say-'bout nothin', from begin- nin' to end: no mor'n they do at school." "Who knows but it is only a school, Debby?"I ventured to say, " preparing us for that which is in reality--Life. It's a severe school sometimes. It's hard to learn the lessons it imposes; and harder still to give up our friends when, their tasks finished, they graduate to a higher class than ours. These material ties are so firm. Our selfishness would fain keep them forever in its lower grade." Wall, it's human natur' to set by our kindred, Ruby. page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] Them that don't are brutes. No! not that either, for brutes are fond o' their kind; they're worse than heathen. To be , sure,I 'spose our-loss is their gain, and we can see'em ag'in, some time. I don't know though, 'bout this resurrection business. I don't swaller it all. It's a putty slim prospect o' seein' them to my mind, to be obleeged to wait 'till the judgment-seat, and by that time mabbe-they'll git over hankerin' to pee us, and'll for- git all about us, that sech folks ever existed. That ain't weekid, is it? Then, too, I can't see what we're goin' to do with these old concerns when we git 'em up there. Why, ain't wejes 's well off without 'em if we only think so? I, for one, when I git red on't, wouldn't pick out my humnly old picter, and ask to git back to it ag'in for all etarnity. It's bad enough to tote it round in time." Here she broke off abruptly, to hold up before me the loaf, which revealed a huge. hollow in its * centre; and to put on a very mournful countenance, as she observed, in a low tone, "That's a grave, Ruby! I never knew that sign to fail!" "Nonsense, Debby!" I shook my head incredulously. ' But we've all got to come to it," she sadly pursued. "For my part, I think it's the best way to think on sech things, so's it don't come too sudden like. Now, child, that's what I was a goin' to- tell you this afternoon, but Demis won't never hear no word 'bout it. It's all true as the Book of Genesis; what I told you them raps was. Here! you set the tea a steepin',.while I run down sullar for some plum-sass." She soon reappeared, panting and muttering crossly: "Them stairs are the unmercifullest stairs I ever did see; I don't b'lieve Jacob's ladder could be much steeper; if so, I wonder the angils didn't git all tuckered out a runnin' up and down 'em. Wall!" she continued, setting the plate on the table, and running her finger around the edge to wipe away a few purple drops, making ready for a leap to the cloth. "I wan't to tell you somethin' that happened when, I was a gal. You musn't breath a word of it to no livin' soul, for I'don' know but they'd put me in prison. I was knowin' to't in the time on't. I. guess I couldn't a been mor'n fourteen year old, at the outside, when I went out by the day to spin or work, jest as they wanted, and one week I went up t'the holler, to Lawren Carr's. I staid eight weeks, though I didn't dream o' sech a thing when I went; but you see, Abram, his son, was took down with summer complaint, and it settled into -a slow fever, and his folks prevailed on me to stay and do chores and see to things, so's Miss Carr could wait on him. Wall, he was expectin' to a been married that very fall to Prudy Perry; as likely a gal as ever trod shoe leather, and han'some too's a pictur'. She come up when he was the sickest to see him, and watch with him, 'cause- he was out of his head most the time, and he'd keep callin' for her the wust way. Wall, after a tedious spell, he begun to pick up some-rd told 'em all along the fever'd have to have its run-so's he was quite chipper, and put in t'the chicken broth as if he was possessed. They want very comf'rt'bly on't for things, but they contrived to make a live on't. Come in t'the butt'ry,while I cut some cheese," said Debby, pausing, to height- en my interest in her story. Hfollowed her in. -She closed the door ere proceeding,inta mysterious tone: "One night, Prudy -thought she'd go to bed, as he was so smart. There was two beds in the room, Prudy slept in one and I in t'other. I was mighty tired. I'd been helpin' Miss Carr 'bout the washin', and I wan't used to, it, and I s'pose I dropped right asleep, for Prudy woke me up. I must have slept as sound as a log, for I remember I was dreamin' of gittmin my day's work done, and goin' off to meetin' in a blue bonnet and ';r "^( page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] yaller gown, tied round the waist with red ribbin, and feellin', you may depend upon it, as if I'se the biggest duck in the puddle. 'Debby, Debby 1' says Prudy, 'what you up for?' 'I ain't up, nor been up nuther,' says I, a leetle out o' sorts, and tryin' to keep on with my dream 'bout my Sunday fixin's. I jest got underway ag'in, and was puttin' on my white knit mitts, and shovin' up my new parasol, when Prudy at me ag'in. ' Debby, Debby 1 do keep in bed. I can't sleep a wink, for youv'e been up, off and on, the hull livelong night. I guess your'e a sleep-walker, if there ever was on'. I tried to catch hold o' ye, to pull you into bed, when you came nigh me, but it's so dark I couldn't see you. It's dangerous to haze round so; you might hit somethin', and knock your brains out.' I couldn't make the crittur b'lieve I hadn't stirred out one foot, 'till I lay still and listened and heered the pounds too. They'd come to my bed, then round the foot to Prudy's, and then they'd kinder die-away, and then they'd come back ag'in. We didn't know what to make of't. I couldn't sleep no mom and we didn't dare to git up and strike a light, so we jest lay with our heads kivered up till mornin. I tell you we was glad enough to see daylight, and we popped our heads out. Wall, Ruby, the doors was all shot, and the winders down, jest as we left 'em; but on the floor-t'was a sanded floor --all round the room was the strangest tracks ever you see; nothin' mortal about them, and that ain't all nuther. Abram grew wuss and wuss ev'ry. day, and went into quick consumption, and he finally up and died the very day he was to a been married to Prudy Perry. 'Twas all explained then, you see, 'bout them tracks. I never told a livin' soul but you. I shouldn't now, oniy I want you to think on't and not make light o' sech things. I don' know as any- thing'll happen; and if I did, I wouldn't tell anybody," and Debby shut her lips persistently. "( What became of poor Prudy?"I asked. "Wall, now, between you and me'and the whippii'-post, it was ruther queer about that," she replied, looking reflect- ively at the plate of cheese before her. "You see, Simeon Cole lost his sweetheart 'bout this time. He seemed to feel dreadfully; wore a weed on his hat, and all that. Prudy, too, put on half mournin' for Abram, and seemed to take a realizin' sense o' her loss. Wall, Sophi Paddleford spoke up one day, and said she thought they ought to make a match; and would you b'lieve it? they happened to meet there one evenin' and he went hum with her-mis'ry likes company, you know-and that very Sunday night he called-there's plenty of folks ready to watch for sech things, you know, Ruby-- and the long and the short of it was, that he courted and married her in less'n a year. It seems as if'twas to be, don't it? It made a good deal o' talk in the time on't."' She paused suddenly, "Hear that teakittle now; mournful- like, but not loud. I don't like to hear it sing so, Ruby. It's a sure sign we shallhear of a death somewhere. I never knew it to fail.. It goes all through me. I know you don't b'lieve nothin' in signs, but I do, and so'll you some day, when you've heard and seen as much as I have." "Why, Debby, you speak as if that was certain." "Wall, so 'tis. You've got the look in your eye; kind o' filmy, you see. You wait, and see if t don't speak truth, It'll come suddin. It allers does. But 'twill come." "And so will my aunt, if we don't make haste," I re- torted, as the door-latch clicked ominously. "Here she is now," and Deborah closed her mouth, and drew in her features into an innocent expression, as if to thereby protest page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] her utter guiltlessness of ever alluding to these contraband subjects. The good soul was firmly wedded to her belief in the supernatural. Those mystic tendencies she inherited, in part, from a sight-seeing mother; and, fondled in the lap of a credulous neighborhood, ever alert to credit the marvellous that which rightfully belongs to the simple, they-had grown with her growth, and strengthened with her strength, until they inextricably wove their subtile fidres through the web and woof of every mental tissue; to eradicate one, the whole structure must be demolished; and it is questionable whether, out of such helpless ruins, enough sound material would have remained for re-erection. At all events, as she apparently derived much comfort from the harmless superstitions, and for the most part, nourished them in secret, none sought to deprive -her of them. Before my uncle and aunt, however, she was compelled to hold her peace. They considered her visions, omens, and prophecies as controverting Scripture, which inspired testi- mony, expressly declares that, "He cometh like a thief in the night ; and offering an inducement to Providence for a judg- ment to follow in the wake of her irreverence. In these later years, with our developing faculty of classificationi she would be immediately labelled a " clairvoyant," enthusiast- ically bottled in a sensational sphere, and corked with flarming programmes, paragraphs, and advertisements. What a differ- ence a few years make! Deborah, owing to the extreme simplicity of the times she lived in, was 'only a fortune. teller on the sly; and an absurdly credulous believer in crude dreams and omens. CHAPTER XXL SUNDAY came and went like others, full of holy calm.- The baptism and reception into the Church's maternal care of the six young converts stamped it with memorable inter- est, as the first-fruits-of a hoped-for revival. Natty was the first to descend to the icy bath; his fresh young face flushed with holy enthusiasm, and the light of a deep, peaceful joy in his dark eyes. At this junction Annah set up a furious lament, and we were compelled to withdraw, despite Aunt lhoda's frowns. This relative of ours believed devoutly in infant conversions, and had hoped the scene might have been the means: of bringing the child into the fold. Her piety was never pas- sive. She greedily devoured indigestible memoirs of re- markable infantile converts, who, sickening mysteriously, and making rather lengthy exhortations to surrounding impeni- tent friends-had been rapt from their little weeping worlds to an heavenly inheritance. She adored stories of nice little Sunday-school girls, by their touching prattle con- verting a dram-drinking parent from his evil ways; and she judged Annah of an age sufficient to define her position in the moral and religious universe. I scouted this idea; hence frequent clashes. In her creed, infants, only a few hours old, were ruthlessly dispatched to endless torture for being too bodily weak to live. "As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all' be made alive,"' she was fond of quoting. "Christ has imperatively ordained this ordinance. H e descended into Jordan;' and page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 234 RUBINA. ' we cannot get to him by any other way. 'For ye are con- demned already.' " Oh! finite limiting of infinite grace.- Poor weak human- ity daring thus resolutely to define--Divinity; to pronounce upon the utmost verge to which "Our Father's" cord of compassionate loving-kindness extends: to scan the reced- ing circle of the mrercifill remembrance of our frailties. From the chaos of perplexed reasoning, in which such a stern, piti- less dogma hurls the intellect, rises in light serene the com- forting assurance: "For His wavs are not as our ways; neither Hig thoughts like our thoughts." Aunt Rhoda came home from church this day with a more uncompromising front than ever; and as she divested her head of its green caleche, she thus delivered herself.: "I de- clare for't, it completely spiled my meeting for me! To think, that a child, most a woman grown, shouldn't even be decent! I overheard Mis' Prince whisper to Nancy Carr, that' for her part she thought 'twas heathenish; livin' in sech a Christian community, and settin' under the very droppin's of the sanc- tu'ry;' and Nancy said back, that ' she hoped she shouldn't abuse her privileges; but, then, we didn't none on us know what we might be brought to do.' I know what Annah's comin' to," pursued she, decisively. "She's going to meetin', raini' or shine. She's old enough to give her heart to the Saviour. I don't b'lieve she can repeat the very first answer in the Catechism." I stoutly defended her knowledge in this respect. She persisted in doubting. "Bother!" cried Demis. "Let us talk of Nancy Carr. I know what she never will come to." "Well, what?" asked her mother rigidly. "Matrimony," and she soberly vanished. Annah was summoned, very much frightened at the prospect of a lecture. sumndopo falcue RIJB TA -235 "What is the chief end of man " slowly and solemnly inquired her aunt, peering at her over her spectacle tops. She stood bewildered, apparently endeavoring to sum mon the reply from her treacherous memory. Aunt Rhoda gave me an exultant glance, and solemnly repeated it. All at once the child's face brightened. "Keep what you've got, get what you can; hold up your head, and look like a man," fell glibly from her lips. Her aunt dropped the primer in horror, and blushed with indignation. "Did you ever?" she inquired of Uncle Joel, who bent his head suspiciously low over his book, and re- mained mute. "Sech wickedness," she went on, "sech irreverence is awful. Then,'this is the way you learn the Catechism; them sacred words, printed by servants of the Most High. I don't wonder, poor child, you don't know nothin'!" she said pityingly. I interrupted her. "D o you think i taught the child that i' ," Where'd she pick it up then ." "It don't know, aunt." "I don't blieve you," she said, hotly. Annah began to cry. "Cousin Demis told it; it's pretty too!" ceasing her tears, to defend her favorite. She knows ever so many more!" and she flashed at her aunt a defiant glane, which made the good lady hop uneasily in her chair, and clutch her fingers, as if she longed-yet was not quite sure of the propriety of finishing off the day's exercises by a matter of so secular a nature as a whipping. "Wall, wall," muttered Uncle Joel, "never mind! What's the odds, Rhody? Makin' such a fuss about nothin'!" "Indeed! I don't call it ' nothin', Mr. Martin!" she said, angrily. "It's Gospel truth.-" page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] "Wall, wall; the child don't know no better! She thinks Demis is law and gospel. Lectur' Demis, if anybody." "Suppose you take her in hand, Mr. Martin. It'll be new business for you. You let them run right over you, and never say boo." "Oh no, I don't, Rhody," he rejoined, meekly. At Well! if you know best," she sarcastically observed. "You can go, Annah. I won't ask no more. I don't want to git sech another start." She folded her spectacles into their case and rocked herself, complacently. It appeared, also, that she meditated; for she presently observed: "I'm sure we ought to feel thankful, Joel, that the Lord has inclined three of our children unto his ways i As for Demis, that child allers was different from the rest--dreadful hard to manage. I'm 'fraid it'll take a mighty solemn providence to turn her heart to the testimony. I declare I tremble all over, like a leaf, when I think what's in store for her!" "I don' know," replied Uncle Joel, thoughtfully. '"I don't find no fault with none on 'em, I guess, on a long hull, De- mis'll come out with the rest,-and Ruby and Annah too," he added, with a kind glance at me. Aunt Rhoda, with an incredulous sniff, wheeled around to the light-stand, and opened the great family Bible, with a jerk. Slowly turning over its leaves, with one long forefinger, she paused finally, and buried her eyes amid its comforting pages. The next day brought the schoolmaster. He came down directly to see us, and announced his intention of remaining to tea. Uncle Joel's hearty hand-clasp and resonant ", How are you?" sufficiently testified to his pleasure at the reunion, and my aunt's rigidity visibly decreased with every moment of his stay. Strong, manly, and cheery he looked, one worthy to win confidence, and incapable of betraying it. The hard glimmer in his eyes, which formerly I had thought so repelling, I now sought for in vain. The sneer-too often wreathing the thin bloodless lips--had broadened to a smile, more genial. He looked one placed, by some sudden turt of Fate, on better terms with his own nature than in former days, and con- sequently in more improved relations to all mankind. Then his laugh rang out more freely, devoid of clogging affectation in its tone, and that I was not alone in feeling the change, witness Debby's greeting as she entered. 1"Law! Mr. Hume," accepting his offered hand, and holding it like a little toy, "i'm well as common. How be you? And proper glad to see you. Your paw don't look much like mine," she added, relinquishing possession; " mine's brown as a berry, and hard as flint. It's seen work, and a good deal of it too." He made some pleasant observations.. "That's all right," remarked Uncle Joel; "but a leetle work wouldn't hurt you: make you tough. Work'll never put nobody out o' jint, I guess.", "I practise, daily, in the gymnasium," said Mr. Hume. "What's that to the pint?" demanded Debby. "Don't 'mount to nothin', does it?" For answer, he seized the heavy iron mortar, kept standing in the corner for pounding salt, and held it aloft, with-one hand, triumphantly. Uncle Joel, good naturedly, chuckled, "Didn't see nothin' wonderful in- that-thought anybody might," essayed to make the trial a success, and signally failed. "It is a purty considerable heft," he admitted; and was going to try again, when his wife serenely observed: "Law, now, Joel, I would'nt be drawn inter no fool's play, if I'se you. (C You're too old for sech doin's." He dropped the weight, Iooking as if a damper had been put upon his rising cheerfulness, page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 RUBINA. "I wonder where the boys be?" said Debby, anxiously, some time later in the day. "I met Dwight going to mill, at three o'clock," said Mark, "and Natty was sliding with Cyrus Wright. Very likely he has gone home with him." "He hadn't oughter be out after dark. He aint very rugged latterly," she remarked. "I guess 'twont. hurt him none," observed Aunt Rhoda, placidly. At which lack of maternal solicitude, Debby mut- tered under her breath, "I'm glad I'se got more feelin' than some folks, if they be mothers." Twilight deepened into dusky evening. At six, Dwight entered alone, staggering under a huge bag of meal. He threw a look of surprise around the table, and sank wearily into a chair. ", Why, where's Natty? I thought he would come and help me draw this home. I told him to. It's mortal heavy." "That's what I should like to know; and I'll find out," cried Debby, starting up hastily; upsetting her teacup, which rolled with a crash to the floor. She threw a shawl over her shoulders, and, lighting'the lantern, went out. Uncle Joel seized his hat and followed her. We heard the gate click after them, and the craunch of the crisp snow under their feet, and then there was silence. A strange suspense settled over us; Demis and Annah began to cry, until hushed by Aunt Rhoda's sharp voice: "' I'd act like fools an' done with it: jest as if somethin' was the -matter. Deborah allers was ravin' distracted if one on 'em was out a minute after, dark. I don't want no racket, for my part." 'They stopped speedily. "Perhaps he is in one of the neighbor's," observed Mr.' Hume, hopefully. "He may have gone to Mr. Pierce's, or home with this Cyrus, whom Mark saw with him." RUBINA. 239 "Of course! But, to satisfy you, rll go after him," said Mark, leaping to the door. I, too, strolled out, when I could no longer bear the silence, and Demis followed, clinging to me closely. ' . "We will walk up to the village," I said. Our search was fruitless. We approached every door in hope, but turned away saddened and disheartened. Nearly all had that day seen him, but that was the extent of the information gleaned. At the last house we encountered Mr. Wright, likewise out on a mission of inquiry. We looked at each -other in dis- may. "I don't know what to make of it," said he. "The lad was never from home after dark before. He has been gone since'morning; but we did not feel alarmed." "Oh! my poor brother! my poor little brother!" shouted Demis, franticly wringing her hands. I tried to speak hopefully. "But he may have gone home with Eleil." She shook her head. " e never would have gone by the house without telling us; besides, he had his sled to put up first." "Well," I said, desperately. "There is but one place more; the Alum Rocks. It's possible they may be still sliding, though your father prohibited that place." "We will go," she said huskily. "Come, Mr. Wright. I can't go-home yet." It was at least a mile to the Alum Rocks. I thought it extrembly unlikely that he had ventured there in defi- ance of his father's command. But action, however misap- plied, was better than quiescence,.so we pushed on bravely, keeping a kind of running pace with Mr. Wright's heavy strides. Not a word penetrated the wintry silence. It was intensely cold. Our rapid motion served to keen us some- page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 RUBINA. what warm; but vapor froze upon our mouths and nostrils, and the -stinging blast cut keenly into our exposed faces. Demis suddenly stopped. *'Ruby, I believe I have frozen -my hands. They are numb," said she. "Swing 'em J swing 'em!" shouted'Mr. Wright, pushing forward. "So!" he added, violently swinging his own arms by way of example. "That will keep the blood a circula- ting." I bethought me of a pair of mittens in my pocket. I had dropped them there in the morning, and utterly forgotten them' since. Now, I inwardly blessed the chance, and I drew them on Demis's chilled fingers, in spite of her feeble re- monstrance. "We are almost there," she shivered. "Let us push on." "Good God!" ejaculated Mr. Wright in horror. "What a place for sliding. God forbid that they should have gone down there," he muttered to himself, approaching and peer- ing cautiously over the edge of the precipice. "I see no signs of 'em," he added aloud. "We must come back the way we came." "There they are " cried Demis joyfully, as far up the snowy slope, we descried two dark objects moving. "No!"I said. "It cannot be, for one has a lantern. Why, it's your father and Deborah! It seems they came directly here." "Oh dear! I can't go fast enough," she cried, despair- ingly, "Come, come," and she fairly flew up the long hill. The figures had disappeared, but, looking carefully around, we caught the lantern's glimmer among the leafless forest trees, down in the darkness below. "Now, girls, you must stay here," said Mr. Wright, sooth- RUBINA. 241 ingly. "It's too slippery and steep for you to. venture by yourselves down there, and I can't stop to help you. I'll call, if we find any thing." "Any thing!'? I shuddered at the ghastly forebodings implied by this word. He, did not wait for an answer,- but picked his way swiftly down the dangerous ledge. "I can, see his footsteps. Come," whispered Demis, and we followed him mechanically. We reached the- bottom. Uncle Joel turned. The two meya looked at each other gloomily. "My God help us!" burst from Uncle Joel's lips; extending one hand, which Mr. Wright grasped firmly; with the other he pointed to, a huge break in the icy pool. "Well, Martin," said Mr. Wright, brokenly, " do you think they made that hole .?" "I don' know neighbor. The ice isn't so very thick, and comin' from way up yonder2d be a powerful blow." "Yes," returned the other, drearily. "I wish we'd a had our wits about us, enough to a fetched ropes and hooks along," said Debby, coming up. "I may as well go after some, and I'll send some men to search the pool." "There is no trace anywhere round to tell us," said. Mr. Wright, holding aloft the lantern to peer, fruitlessly beyond him. "I suppose the sleds have gone under the ice." "Stay," cried Demis ;- "I see something out there." "Why, so there is. Give me the lantern andI'll get it.' I said eagerly "Oh no!' returned the men simultaneously. The ice won't hold Lou up, and you can't see the air-holes in it." But I was already swinging down the rocks.. I advanced cautiously-searching by the dim flicker of the lantern for treacherous cracks. I reached the article I sought, lying- pn / .. " page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 BUBINA. the jagged edge of the icy rupture, as if a last agonized token; ithrown upward for the help-which never came. It was simply a little striped mitten. - :There was dead silence when I handed it to Uncle Joel. Hie softly pressed it between his palms, as if to assure himself of its tangibility, turned white, and silently handed it to his neighbor, who likewise pressed and passed it to Debby. 'Well," she said sadly, caressing softly the un- conscious token from a watery grave. "That ever I should live to' see this day! I s'pose this is evidence enough; Mr. Martin ;I knit it myself," she broke into dreary bewailings. "And my poor lad left nothing," said Mr. Wright chok- ingly. "Demis snatched the mitten, hugging it convulsively, kissing and talking to it as though it were a living thing. "Oh -dear, dear, dear," she murmured,. "What shall we do?" "Do?" I echoed, forcing back the coming sobs. "Get them out, of course. I am going after help. Will you come with me?"She assented, like a broken-hearted child; placing the cold little hand in mine to be led away from the sad scene. In spite of the unremitting exertions of the neighbors, three days elapsed ere the bodies were recovered. During this period the saddest of silences--that of agonized anticipa- tion--reiged throughout the house. Few came near us, and we walked the rooms, solitary, voluntary prisoners, listening to Deborah's- heart-broken chanting of the dead boy's early years. There was also an old eastern death-song, which sei wailed continually. I should make one, exception. Aunt Rhoda kept on her calm, even round of duties much as usual. :She prepared the meals regularly--which no one ate, BUJBINA - 243 and she rose as early as ever. -Amanda came home; but never very efficient, save when controlled by selfish desires, her dismal- reproaches at every. one presenlltere quite unendur- able, and at Mark's request, her husband came down one day and removed 'her to her own home. "' When the bodies were brought down the hill, stark and stiff, their pale hands firmly gras ping their sleds by the- rin- ners, crowds came out of their dwellings, and following after, filled the house. -:Out of these, who came chiefly to observe countenances, and watch' curiously how each took it, and then, repairing to Mr. Wright's, there'repeat the analyza- tion, there were some sympathetic friends, full of genuine, hearty kindness. "In the midst of life we are in death," said Elder Fuller solemnly that evening, after the busy hands had departed. "It ought to be -a comfort, my friends, to reflect that he was prepared to go. I see the hand of an all-wise Provi- dence in this dispensation., It's another lesson .to the young." . ' Yis," shudderingly observed my aunt. "What if it had been Dwight? 'He isn't fit to die, and stand before the judg- , ment-seat of God& t My uncle rose here, and abruptly left the room;. I softly follbwd him into the keeping-room. - There he was, sobbing ase if hh heart -would break. Readerl did you ever see a strong mah weep.? One not easily moved? A woman's tears flow 'easily, and; are 'as easily quelled.' A rivulet'-of gust'y patssions, which clears all dust from its channel ;. fin- ishing the sacrament with: a few gasping sobs, aid eavig behit/nd refreshing sweetness?-the pebbly bottoml white and elearin.;thbe returning sunshine. Man's passion is -the turbid torrent; swollen to overflowing -by, unusual rains,-i- Aid, page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 1 244 RUBINA. vastating freshet, as it slowly subsides, leaving scathing deso- lation in its track. Dumb terror seized me, as I helplessly gazed on the convulsive shivers of his broad shoulders; t0he passionate throes heaving his breast, and the- intermittent sobs. He lifted his head at last, with a piteous glance. - Oh! I can't set and hear sech stuff as that," he murmur- ed. "It makes no difference which is taken. I can't spare none on 'em. Come here, children;" we were all weeping unrestrainedly, kneeling at his knee; -he passed his strong arms round us, and gathered us all to his great loving heart. "Oh, father," whispered Demis, affrighted, "don't, don't take on so. It hurts me." "Child, I can't help it," he sobbed. I'm an old man, well stricken in years and infirmities, but I never cried afore. I didn't know as I could; and now I've got a goin', I can't stop. 'Pears so I'd got to cry for all that ever happened afore. If he had a been sick and died, I should thought it God's will, and been submissive, but sech a death is awful!" "Have you seen him?" softly inquired Olive, who had en- tered unheard. He shook his head. "I can't bear to!" '"Come, all of you," she said, persuasively, " and see how sweetly he slumbers," and as we rose to follow her, he came also. "O Death, so full of terror! Why canst thou not lift the hideous veil from thy features, and show poor, weak -human- ity the Divine splendor which lurks beneath?" murmured Olive, reverently uncovering the still, waxen features. "Yes!" said Mr. Hume, coming forth from a window .re- cess. "For now we see, as in a glass darkly; but then, face to face. Think, my friends, what a glorious vision now greets his eyes; face to face with immortality, and life, and light divine." Uncle Joel wiped his eyes, gazed awhile in silence, and withdrew somewhat comforted, -RUBINA. 245 The sting of death is sin," said Olive.- "That is all one need fear; and what is our life? It is but a vapor soon ex- haled; but a shadow which fleeth away. Oh! girls, we should make the most of'this transient season," she con- cluded earnestly. "You think this the only probationary state;"I ventured, "but who can tell, but that in the region beyond may exist repentance and pardon of sin." "This is no place to discuss such a doctrine," she answer- ed coldly. "You will do well to read your Bible more." She refolded the damp cloth over the white face beneath us, and left the room. "Wall!" mused Deborah, swaying herself to and fro onher seat, " it ain't a mite of no use to try, if the sperrit don't move you. If you're foreordained to be saved, you will be; and if not, you won't be, 'cordin' to some folks tell. Maybe your time ain't come yit, Ruby," she added, consolingly. "I don't want to be one of the elect if all my friends are not," said poor little Demis, mournfully. "I couldn't be happy in heaven, if those I love were not there," she added., "You will lose these natural feelings then, in the superior love that shall kindle in your heart toward the Author and Preserver of all-the Righteous Judge. So God is glorified, you will be willing that all else shall be lost. You will be willing to be damned, yourself," said Mr. Hume, gravely. Demis looked doubtful; she shook her head slowly. "No," muttered Debby, giving him a strange look. "Come to the pinch, and he wouldn't himself. It's easy enough to talk! I'm sick of sech figerin' roun'. common sense, among the whole ke-boodle of 'em."' Here Olive opened the door. "Elder Fuller wishes you page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 - RLT-BULN - all to come into the kitchen for family prayers. I cannot get Dwight down; he is up in his room in thedark, and he won't:listen to a word. Mr. Martin won't go either. Some one must, for the looks of it."- "Wall!" muttered Debby, wrathfully, "it won't be me. Catch me stirring a peg to hear that ere man hold forth, an' you'll catch a weasel asleep." Mr. Hume opened the door, and signed to me to follow. After prayers, we returned to the parlor. "Who is to watch!" asked Mr. Hume. "I am," returned Debby, lifting her head. "It's the last thing I can do for him. You can all stay up, if you've a mind." ' Is the funeral to'-morrow then?" inquired he. "I s'pose so," rejoined Debby, sadly. "It's too soon, I think; but I heard the Elder tell Mis' Martin, that they'd better both be buried to-morrow, as 'twas Sunday, and 'twould make the day impressive. That man ain't got no feelin's," she said curtly. "' All he thinks 'bout is makin' a figger among folks, and Mis' Martin and he's as near alike as two peas. She's 'mazin' calm; takes it just as he did poor little Kitty's death-I don't know how folks can do it, for my part." A pause followed. She resumed. "Some- how, I'can't feel to kneel when he's prayin'. I don't feller- ship him a'tall. His prayers don't reach the spot. I don't b'lieve they ever do git higher'n the chimbly's. I'd a, heap ruther git'n a corner som'ers and say, "Lord be marciful to a poor creetur' like me! Oh, Ruby!" she broke forth-- "WhaUd I tell you? I felt it in my bones, that something was goin' to happen; but I never thought of the baby's dyin'. Poor little boy!" She covered her head with her apron, and moaned dismally. ' Mr. Hume looked distressed. He went up to her, and o RUBSA. 247 kneeling noiselessly, pulled the apron gently down. "Be ye comforted, my poor friend," he whispered. "Ye have done for him all that ye could. Let us pray together," and then, with a voice almost inaudible from emotion, arose the school- master's first public prayer. Debby-liffed her straining eyes at its conclusion. "Oh dear, Mr. Hume," she said, - I'm 'bleeged to ye, I'm sure; but there's no peace for the wicked, is there?" and ere he could rise from his knees, she placed her hard, heavy hand upon his head, and solemnly blessed him. CHAPTER XXTT. THE winter passed slowly. Heavy shadows settled down upon the dwelling, creating a mental listlessness, which no activity of body could dissipate. Uncle Joel sat entire days by the kitchen fire, resting his head thoughtfully on hisi broad palm, listening to the singing teakettle, and gazing absently at the maker's name, in raised letters on the stove- hearth. Then he would rise suddenly, put. on his hat, and walk slowly in the direction of the village. We- knew his destination. We knew that he stood for hours in the wan- ing daylight by a snowy mound in a distant corner; but no one remarked, in words-upon his going out, or coming back. Finally his visits ceased; for, standing so much in the snow, brought back his old enemy the rheumatism-al- ways ready to assail him. At first, it treated him to a few irritating twinges; then, finding the citadel sufficiently weak- ened, it boldly assumed an inflaTmmatory character, and stretch- ed him helplessly upon a couch of intense suffering. What time Aunt Rhoda-placid as ever--could spare from nurs- page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] - W K afa - UlBIUNA. ; ing him, was given to the Church. A wide-spread revival followed the recent "calamitous visitations of Providence." Meetings for prayer were held five nights out of the seven, at the Baptist and. Methodist Churches, alternately. For, the latter sect--not to be outdone by their neighbors --had also spiritually awakened; 'and oh! fact most worthy of notice-constitutional animosities of belief; jealous bicker- ings, for once were merged in a hand-to-hand clasp of Chris- tian brotherhood. Each minister came to labor with our slumbering consciences. Demis listened in proud indifference, especially to Mr. Love, the Methodist pastor. Indeed, I found him personally repulsive. He was a tall, coarse man; bitter in his hates, which were easily excited, and relentlessly vindictive. He often sorely belied his amiable patronymic, for he never forgave what he deemed an insult. All angry threats he Scrupulously fulfilled to the letter. He carried his partisan zeal to excess. He also deemed it derogatory to Christian dignity to descend so far as to win souls to Christ. The pathetic was out of his line. - He revelled in the denun- ciatory. He commanded your attendance at church, and, once within the sacred inclosure, fastened his keen eye on you like a basilisk. If by any chance you were betrayed into a smile during his sermon, he endeavored to make you bitterly repent it-and vow never again to place yourself under his tutelage. At such times he would pause abruptly, and, pointing at you his prodigious hand, solemnly rebuke you for irreverence. You were happy, indeed, if you escaped hearing your name loudly called before the whole congrega- tion; their entire battery of eyes was quite sufficient punish- ment.' He was slovenly in costume; invariably appearing in public with disordered hair and filthy linen, soiled hands with black-rimmed finger-nails. Deborah called him "'A mortal IU JUNA. : nasty crittur ;" but he described himself as "being not worldly minded"-bringing up the fishermen of Galilee as illustrious precedents. I suspect he would have failed of proof that they eschewed decent cleanliness, even in the pursuit of their calling. . A disgusting scent of bad tobacco, both chewed and smoked, polluted his presence; as a consequence, the shining stove-hearth bore sad witness to his visits. When a fit of religious converse seized him, he drew a chair to your side, staring full in your face with impudent bravado, and resenting as a deadly insult your instinctive shrinking away from him and his teachings. One could scarcely be blamed for vanishing into the nearest hiding-place, at the unwelcome sight of his loosely built, shuf- fling figure, filing through the little gate leading to the kitchen. Elder Fuller also awakened one uhhappy day to a conscious- ness of his criminal neglect of needful pastoral duties, and, forthwith inaugurated an energetic round of visits. On these dreaded occasions all work was suspended, and a semi-circle of prayer formed, in which Debby-though strongly pressed -would never be initiated. She glowered through the open pantry .door at her old enemy, until-his duty finished-he departed. "The husbandman soweth his seed in sorrow and care, but he reapeth a glorious harvest," was his accustomed finish to these spiritual programmes; or, for a variation, "Paul may plant and Apollos water, but it is God alone who giveth the increase." He gave this last word a relishing smack in conclusion, as if, in some mysterious way, tasting its prolific flavor. He stopped sinners in the street.' He waylaid laborers going to their work, to warn them of the wrath to come. In roaring caldrons of factories he plunged his fiery zeal, and over the machinery's continuous hum, rose resonant "* page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] ,UJ V. "t -f ' . ,' ' his terrific exhortations to the pale-faced operatives. ; He palsieA their reason, with graphic limnings :of a speedily approaching judgment. He -overwhelmed their tired souls and bodies with dramatic gesticulations of the wrath of an offended Judge. He pointed to the ceaselessly revolving shafts; thus intimating their bodily danger, and then sud- denly hurled before them the fearful question, "Where would your souls be thena" Not one word was dropped into grieving souls, of God's infinitude:of mercy and love: no hope held out of future repentance, when drawn by universal laws, each and all should some day find a home in the bosom of the Father. "Now! Now!" -he greedily cried, '"Now is the accepted time; now,is the day of salvation. It is the last call of the Spirit. Hearken to its merciful cry, or remain forever given over by His grace." People laughed at first-; then grew- serious. Their com- bined labors kindled the slumbrous embers of religious excite- ment into a glowing flame. Of course, I attended the meetings. In accordance with earnest entreaties, I rose for prayers. I visited the "anxious seat," in turn with my seeking sisters. I' successively tried all the special localities pointed out as means for obtaining grace. The genial shower descended on the thirsty pools in my neighbor's hearts; filled and refreshed them. 'Mine, it left dusty and barren as before. Deceive, I would not; so when the nightly question came, :"Do you feel a change of heart.?" as usual, my answer was a negative shake of my despondent head. "At least, you feel yourself to be a lost sinner, deserving especial condemnation?"I did not, and I said so. Then my heartlessness and ingratitude were commented upon, and publicly held up to the gaze of the scornful. I was used -for a warning to other awakened sin- ners, lest they, too, protract the period of delay, and likewise UIlNA. tzX be, given over by the, Deity. I was pronounced ,a fit vessel for Divine wrath, and awarded ia place with outcast'swine; their unsavory husks, and putrefying morsels, freely doled out as my only- inherited sustenance. - It was too unpalatable fare. I sickened and fled from it and its administrators in heartfelt disgust. :"Wall," said Aunt Rhoda, one evening, tying on her- black silk hood, as usual, ",Ruby; it's high time we're a startin.,' I made some excuse for not leaving Demis alone. "She needn't be alone," she .retorted with a cutting glance. "I'd be glad to have her go in my room. But there's no use in askin'- her, and I shan't let you throw away this chance of salvation."' She looked at me as if that settled. the matter; no more words need be. wasted. All I had to do was to meekly rise, open the press door, take down my own black hood and shawl, and follow her. Demis eyed me askance, to sees if I would yield the point so tamely. My re- ply came resolutely: "I have done. I grow more obdurately indifferent the longer I go. Then, their falling to the floor, -struck with ' the power,' is more disagreeable than all else.' Those are the Methodists," she said. "Yes. But they are all under the same influence." "Very well. Suit yourself, and you'll suit me," she re- torted curtly. She opened the door quickly and shut herself out. Demis eyed me archly. ,' So you're a sinner, still, Ruby. I'm glad of it, I like you better as you are. I used to go; and many a time rve plung- ed a darning-needle into the flesh of those lying like logs on the floor. They started quick enough, I assure you.' * - Our lessons suffered slow decapitation. First one branch, then another, was relentlessly chipped away-ostensibly, from want of time; really, from sheer disinclination for study. In this * Hi .* page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] AlCA U U Jb5. A., cowardly-abandonment Demis led the van. She said ' she w'as too tired ;" and when the schoolmaster brought out the books, drawing up a chair beside her, she- would draw back a little, take up a volume, listlessly, and, after trying in vain to give her attention to its contents, lean her head thought- fully on -the back of her chair, and sigh wearily. I often stole from the room, leaving them alone thus for hours, and they, never seemed to miss me. Neither did my well-meant ab- sence appear to do Demis any good; for, on coming back to 'it, she would still be gazing thoughtfully into the air, while the schoolmaster would have opened and become absorbed in any chance volume.- One day, when this pantomime had been successfully repeated, Mr. Hume threw down his book, and turned to me laughingly. "What is the matter with me, Miss Ruby?'"I was so astonished that I did not answer. "Because," he went on, " your cousin is evidently afraid of 'me. I must have seriously changed." "No," she stammered, awkwardly. "She treated me, a year ago, like a human being. I havn't forgotten the apple wreath--"He started up and went to her; for she had burst into violent sobbings. He took her hand. She did not answer his concerned inquiry, and he -looked down on her aghast, but presently rallied. "What a tiny hand," he cried, cheerfully. "I believe, Miss Ruby, that it belongs to the fairies. She evidently got it by mis- take." He pretended to whisper this wondrous intelligence. She hastily withdrew it to cover her face. ';Ah! she thinks a poor mortal not good enough to touch it," he cried, with mock fervor. "I wonder if the other' one is similar! Oh yes, I see it now! It's the other's mate, and therefore not for me," he added, meaningly. She ceased sobbing instantly. A flash of cold pride swept over her - face with lightning fury. He had turned to me, and did not see the token, as he still pursued--in a bantering tone---"I must, then, have recourse to one of earthly lineage "--and seizing mine--"I believe firmly in electric affinities. Now ,when my electricities are too redundant, I seek to dispose of a few in this manner. You perceive " I lost the rest in watching Demis. Her eyes flashed scornfully, and she threw us a jealous glance-a reproachful one it was to me. I forced a careless laugh. "Oh! pray go on, Mr. Hume. You are rapidly verging toward the transcen- dental. ' Redundant affinities'--Demis, you may have my share." He went on, unheeding. "Now this is something tangible," surveying my long fingers, tolerably well-shaped; not des- tined for show at all; run in the right mould for trills and quavers, and scales on the piano-forte, which fairies are never expected to perform. - Are they, Queen Demis?" She smiled, mockingly, the jealous fire still slumbering in her dark eyes, and humored his bantering mood. "Oh yes, child of earth; but it is too exquisite for mortal ears! Thy grossness cannot catch the soundless vibrations of the melo- dies from my ancestral home. Its speech thou canst not di- vine, oh, fragment of mortality!" He retorted pleadingly, "Oh! Queen of the beneficent fair- ies, torture not our expectant ears by such words of discourage- ment! Rather salute them with a gracious sample of that rav- ishing music. Thy servant is unworthy, but will be grate- ful." The "beneficent queen " remained sulky and mute. "Do you, sing?" he said suddenly. "No! I went to singing-school a few times, and z6alously did my sweetest sounds on do-re-mi-I thought myself'pro- * ; page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] - grssing famouslyi . .Then imagine myr horro one :evening, when. our worthy chorister suddenly brought down his fiddle- bow on the black-board with a rap that made us-.allstart ner- vously--', Stop.!" he thundered. "I want to find where those horrid sounds come from ;" and he coolly proceeded to try the voices, separately, on the blissful rise and fall of the eight notes. In serene ignorance I essayed my turn at ascending the musical ladder. I didn't return the way I went, and there my voice remains to .this day, perched -on the topmost round of high -'do.? I have never had courage to bring it down by myself, and I suspect, long ere this, the poor outcast has perished of starvation, cold, or affright." '(;But what was the matter with it?" cried Mr. Hume, smiling. "' Miss -you,-what's your name?' asked the crusty old chorister. 'Brooks,' I repeated, demurely. 'Well, Miss Brooks, you'll never learn music. You have about as much voice as -a tree-toad ;' and he turned away, laughing as he resumed his fiddle-bow, at once restored to good. hu- mboi. Such discipline was not to be repeated. I manag- ed to sitthe evening out, tranquilly, in spite of sundry mali- cious winks and: sneers from my melodious neighbors; but it was a cruel disenchantment I never again ventured." ; "I cannot help thinking," said the schoolmaster, thought- fully . " that it is but an instance of'what we must look for constantly in this life; and it is far better that our ignorant illusions should be torn to tatters, than to carry them around constantly, and so, never at liberty to seek for the real. I call it a kind hand that robs me of mine, and though it may be meant in malice, I will bless it, nevertheless. You are, certainly, divested of one delusio n,and at liberty to turn ' your devotions elsewhere. Miss Demis,"!-pretending to. MLV J' VLJLA - .J, consult an imaginary. document--" you are next on the list for musical experiences," . "She has none of that nature," I interrupted; , she, sings like a lark.". , . "Ruby," she began, deprecatingly. lMr. Hume interposed with fresh entreaties. After a little hesitation, she complied. The schoolmaster looked enchanted, as she finished, trem- ulously. "I never heard a sweeter voice, Miss Demis." Oh! magic of praise! Demis's languor vanished; her dark eyes brightened with pleasure. She drew herself up in stately pride, and her voice took a fuller, richer, ca- dence, as it broke into another old ballad. She rendered it with touching .pathos. She felt it to the quick, with sym- pathetic intuition, every word of that passionate song.: The plaintive air brought tears to both of her listeners' eyes. Hers were earnest-and clear, with a strange, absent expres- sion, as though she-in, to us, invisible realms-saw with vivid, spiritual ken, that despairing, unhappy lover. This time, the schoolmaster was silent. I suggested another, and yet another. Wrapped in the soothing atmosphere of such music, the hours sped too quickly. The singer had, apparently, forgotten her audience. She roamed from song to song, as fancy dictated-like a but- terfly choosing his flowery couch; as a bee daintily gather- ing honied juices. Now, she gave us a verse in sad minor; then, suddenly changed it to a lively Tyrolese air;- then, grave, Puritan- hymns, which her dead grandfather had taught her when a little child.-floated out into, being, with stirring martial neighbors: then we failed to recognize the words. She was improvising both words and air, as she leaned her head on her hand, and gazed dreamily out -of the window. Sad, unearthly warblings of magical beautyt page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] Did she catch the refrain of the angels, -that she looked with such intensified gaze into space, pouring forth the plaint of a bruised heart, that, bending slowly, but surely, with its weight of care and sorrow, gets courage to lift itself at last above all hopeless loves of earth; courage to tread the airy heights heavenward. Sweeter it grew, and more ethereal. It shook us off, and dropped us far beneath, as we essayed to grope after. Far, far in the distance it sounded. No earthly element, now, could hinder its exultant flight, as, reft of detaining chords, the once caged earthng beat against the very gates of Paradise; knocked, and demanded admit- tance. It was perhaps strange, but'in those few brief moments I :e: had a feeling as if Demis was actually dead; -her body rigid in her chair. As if I had been watching the immortal spirit's flight, instead of her voice. As the last bird-like whisper died in silence, I rose and went to her. She- started into her usual self immediately, "I never heard such singing before," said Mr. Hume, softly. "I could listen to it forever; and I could quarrel with Ruby for dissolving the spell." I sighed, and looked at Demis anxiously. "That voice," he resumed, admiringly, " would make your fortune." ' "I am glad you like it," she said simply. "Like! I adore music," he cried with enthusiasm. "But I could never learn its'rules. I cannot wait for them; the slow plodding things. I want to give them wings, and mount upward-as you did just now, my sister." She winced a little. "I disdain preliminaries," he added laugh- ingly, "so you see I was not 'cut out' by good mother Nature for an artist. But you are, Miss Demis." t RUBlNA. 257 "Does she often sing like this?" he inquired, turning to me. "Yes. And not exactly ,like this either; but our little room ig made vocal, almost nightly. In the still, solemn midnight, I wake with a start to find her dreamily gazing out of the window, and softly sighing to the clear moonlight --not loud enough to waken the household-these unutter- able melodies." "Why do you not write them down for the piano?" eagerly inquired the matter-of-fact schoolmaster. "I never saw a piano," she answered calmly, "but I have imagined one. These sounds I never try to remember. They come and go of their own will. Sometimes, I have a feeling, that I am repeating them after some one; who, I cannot tell. Sometimes they surge up so stormily in my heart that I cannot sleep, and then I find no rest until I give them vent." Inexplicable mysteries surround us; mould us to their will. "What becomes of these, our mental offspring, born amid throes of reluctant compulsion, and vague; silent throbs for sympathy? In darkness, in weariness, in misapprehen- sion; in cruel unkindness, and bitter, scathing neglect; in winter's frosts, and amid the tropical glow of summer, struggling equally with frantic haste for t-heir birthright: compelling us, earthly parents, to do their imperious bidding, and give them expression. For, every word, and every sound, is but the birth of. an idea; and the human swarms infesting this globe are the willing or reluctant progenitors. What state receives them as they float away from our lips? What higher life crowns them with permanence, before so inert, so powerless? Or, do they retain an immortal spark of gratitude for their birth, and constantly haunt our vicinity, invisible to our dull perceptions? Ah! Heaven and hell s , page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] -258 -Rv u -. are nsotsther only: mysteries whichl out disembodiedl souls shal :encounter, if, .in the, state, beyond, our rightful expiation for- sin shll .be ,to religiously .trace, to its very-- core and mimute rami'fications, the effects of our spoken words and deeds. - After -this,;Dmis frequently sang for..the. schoolmaster. "essons were tacitly abandoned, with few and far between days of repentant resurrection. He cleared the books all away:one --evening, bringing down, instead, an armful of lighter literature. . , , Though not a devourer of novels," he remarked, while arranging -them .on the table, "there is nothing, to my mind, that relaxes overstrained mental tension like a- good story. Of course, I don't allude to those of an exciting nature. Something: calm, sedately humorous, with a keen tinge of irony flashing here and there, provoking mirth, like this good old' Vicar of Wakefield' for instance. 'We will read it again: it is always new. Now, my pupils," he resumed, glancing around, " you have had a plea for novel reading, -I suppose you should rightfully have one against it. ,Though I cannot tell a tale of its effects--' drawn from sad experience'--I should think there would be nothing more effective than a severe bodily task to counteract the evil of too much romance reading--especially if your imagination appropriates the woes of the' heroine; endeavoring to put all it reads into practice. Fill the hands with something necessary to be done for a human bein once ear/estly engaged in doing it, it is astonishing how qm -'4h leful imps flee, leaving the storied brain once more fresh and clear. None of your wearing away either. A spring for the v hat; a violent wrench of the, door-latch-not even a civil good-morning- and you are well quit of them. But we are not arrived at that point, yet, and we will have alternate reading-unless, R1EBINA. 259 indeed, you are tired of your preceptor, and his dictatorial ways, and court solitude, or have some important sam- plers to- embroider--senseless work! allow me to say. The letters in the alphabet are' so much prettier; but I don't -see any,'? and he looked with a relieved airi around'-the room* . . ,-Moses being tricked out for the fair, especially .pleased Demis. Her humorous fancy caught the scene immediately, and wove round it fertile flashes of merriment; though she had read it before. I was not, therefore, surprised when, a few days later, a. small engraving, representing his return with his bargain of spectacles, appeared mysteriously upon the, table, addressed to Demis. She was delighted. She carried the picture to her room at night; for aught I know, she slept with it under her;usually sleepless pillow. At all events, she did not sing that night, but lay quiet and motion- . less till morning. One trifle also more. She forgot -that the wrapper was the coarsest of brown paper, and, in' a tem- porary aberration of consciousness, folded it carefully, and thoughtfully placed it away in her drawer. And in the sue- ; ceeding days her cheeks grew bright again, and her light step flitted round the house as freely as ever. And hope, which never-utterly dies from out the human heart, until that heart itself lies cold and coffined, sprang once more into newer, fuller, fresher life than ever. And a thousand green, dewy possibilities flung out a gorgeous foliage, under which she blissfully sat, and wove them all into fond, fervent realities. * Z / page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 RUBINA. CHAPTER XXIIIL / THE genial spring-time chased away the frosts of winter. Mr. Hume still lingered in Northfield. His school was end- ed. The short college vacation had- also flown on the wings of this strange delay. Indeed, the ensuing summer term had just commenced; yet, here he was, recklessly squandering the precious hours in a round of visits among his pupils, and in long readings to us at home, with no ap- parent thought for other duties. If I wearied myself in conjecturing causes, that imperturbable countenance instantly negatived them. No impatience corrugated that smooth forehead into thoughtful frowns; no ahxiety-real or sup- -Dressed-wreathed one trace around the smiling mouth. It seemed only the undisguised aversion of an indolent nature towards speedily assuming a new harness of labor. To Demis, his presence brought new life. In the days which he passed away from her, she visibly languished; wearily complaining of the murky dampness of the atmos- phere, and the hours of uninterrupted monotony; but with his return, her health and spirits again flowed back to their former even channels. This change was so apparent, that it seemed almost impossible but that her father and mother-s serene obtuseness must be quickened thereby into vigilant life and action. Debby, only, looked thoughtfully conscious. She muttered strange sentences, while going about-her work; casting the schoolmaster sharp glances -of dissatisfaction. When they were alone in the keeping-room, she frequently contrived the most improbable errands as an excuse for en. tering, until warned to keep away by Demis's inquiring look. BUBIN A. 261 "I don know nothin 'bout sech truck," I overheard her mutter after one of these voluntary expulsions. "Seems to me now, ef I'se in her shoes I'd gin him a dish of arb tea, and tell him to start his pegs for hum, short order; but I doni know. Mabbe I should up and do jest so myself; gals be fools 'bout some things. I haint so much of'n opinion o' him as I have had. Don't seem good milk porridge to me; but mrabbe 'tis; I'm only a passenger." Toward Demis, the schoolmaster's manner daily assumed a more caressing tenderness. His thoughtful care for her health and comfort was assiduous, though unobtrusive. His face wore a perpetual smile in her presence; if it ever sad- dened with self-reproach, it must have been only in solitude. But, if he drew daily nearer her heart, in closer communion, I as surely retreated-waved back by the influence more powerful than mine; the will--to mine-antagonistic. His love for her was less pure than mine; I felt, I knew it, and I resisted sturdily. 'Inch by inch I was fought from the occupancy of those pleasant pastures, mine, I thought, by virtue of long years of inhabitancy, until, in the outmost verge, one more vigorous thrust placed me beyond the pale, and bolts and bars closing after prevented any forcible re-entrance. And I! Oh! in those leaden April days, I grew to hate them both. Already, saddened by neglect, and sneering indifference, jealousy prompted another, sting, and it plunged deep in the festering wound--quveritg there, as only the barb can quiver that sucks the life-blood of your dearest; best. Do you think, however, that I thrust up the gory spectacle as a feast for their eyes? as a lure for needed pitv? I felt no -such pusillanimous emotion. I longed for no such remnants of charity. Had pity been mingled in the fare I received, the' cup-overflowing-would have been page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] dashed back in their faces, regardless of consequences. I suffered-for it is the bitteirness of death for a woman 'to be so, cruelly: misunderstood-and neither read me rightly. To0:Demis my-heart steeled, because I saw that, in spite of her jealous injustice toward me, in spite of our unhappy estrangement, happiness for her woke. to a new, a diviner experience, and vividly flushed heir future. Alas! mine-rose up before my shrinking eyes, blank and barren as a desert -isle; and it is an added -drop to misery to turn thus. from inward desolation, and, gazing, out on broad, fair plains, reflect that they lie forever beyond' our reach. Yet not an useless drop; for the eye, sharpened by suffering, pierces below the veil of surface forms and professions, beholding -as clearly as the material eye the pebbly bottom ofa brook--the real soil, bearing the guiding motive. -Elliot Hume,; then, I beheld, as .a cold, careless experi- menter. At the first revelation,-scornand indignation froze love and regret to silence. I could now watch their apparent devotion; their obliviousness of my presenece. I could specu- late upori the reason for his often, involuntary repulse of her too evident preference for his society. I could smile inwardly at hersigns :of distress, and at the reappearance of the moth around the flame--his coldness, never lingered.', "Be it so, if you- both will it," thought I, "I can bear my own ap- portionment. The end will surely, come, iand,.Elliot Hume, itmust bring you but'a bitter triumph..- I would walk through seas of.. pain, fiery tongues- consume me, ere I! stoop from my safe, -sure foundations, to give you one helping word.?,:; -. ; Demis ,writhed at his rgings against: women ;his tn- 'founded, sweeping accusations ;but she dared-or coutd-not set -her- love side, to .array herself in arms against' him. They stirred, my, very soul into wrathful. disclaime-rs'-fedi 4'- RUBDTA N A,;2 perhaps, by a desire to avenge my, own' insult in this species of retaliation,. I, did not feel. the .philanthropic outhreaks I utteted, No generous pity stirred my heart for! these- unknown-so pitifully, mutely, pleading for the worlds siym, pathy: wo-man .rarely - feels such sisterly pity, until '.she has been'scathed' by the same fiery: ordeal. If;she, in her-ean- thinking ignorance, arraigns such at her bar, an& jidges without even a- low' call. for evidence, what wonder? when man-strong'and able to wrest approval from the frowning world for any deed, however unnaturally noble and helpfull- scorns, still more intensely. Words rolled from Ell'iot Hume's lips, saturnated in fierce opprobrium.' His gesture, his glance, spake even more. Oh merciless, indeed;' the heart throbbing within that breast, and too common a type of manhood. - What matter indeed, for individual sufferers, so the great -wWhole of the world's virtuous standard be maintained : Such atoms had better be crushed by the coming car of Juggernaut, to afford freer space for purer garments.' The -world recks not of such unsavory Obitr- aries. A letter came one day for my aunt; a rare advent in the family, and: therefore scrutinized with curious glances. "Wall,'? at length suggested Uncle Joel, "it- strikes me that the easiest way to find out 'bout it:is to open it." So the red wafer, bearing on its moistened surface the legible im- press of a thimble, was carefully cut out, and preserved; the missive unfolded and perused. ; . ' It's: from Hannah," observed Aunt Rhodes - sayin?'-lie'll be down 'in June, to stay a spell. -. I guess you'll have to give up te-achin', Ruby; -there'll be oceans' tqdo- if they come." Deborah gave a scornful sniff. : ' i ' * ' , q:If Ise them, I'd stay to hum,'- observed she; '.'haint , * * page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 RUKBINA. seen hide nor hair of'em for goin' on ten year; nor writ nuther, latterly. Jes' remember they've got connection out'n the country. Wonder what started 'em up so, all of a sudden 2 can anybody tell me ." Dwight could. He remembered--with importance-that, "the papers were full' about the cholery. I 'spose they're 'fraid o' catchin' it." "Hum, hum," Deborah nodded her head meditatively. "If that's what they're aimin' at, I wish they'd stay where they be; nobody wants to wait on 'em, as I knows on. I know one that don't." And she looked extremely ireful. "At any rate," said her mistress decisively, " we shan't let on but what we're glad to see 'em ; so least said, soonest mended 'bout that ere." I had never seen these relatives. One letter-extremely brief-came soon after my mother's death, filled with expres- sions tf sorrow that "Car'line couldn't have lived longer," and closing by saying that in five years she should "claim us, for as long a stay. She always meant to do her duty," &c., &c. This one she failed to do, either through after pruden- tial motives, or from utter forgetfulness of her impromptu promise, I knew not which and little cared, -as I dreaded going among strangers, and my mother had never spoken very affectionately of this relative. Demis strengthened this repugnance by relating the incidents of a visit to her aunt when quite a little- girl. I had no desire to repeat them. This intelligence, together with the. annual cleaning, prosecuted with unwonted ardor in anticipation of Aunt Hannah's prying eyes,-put Mr. Hume to flight. He laugh- ingly declared himself "turned away from home to make room. for strangers;" though promising--if nothing hap- RUBINLA. 265; pened of a calamitous nature to prevent it--to " run-downl and see us in August, during the long vacation.'" After packing his luggage, he came down with a book in either hand for "his sisters to look at when they were in danger of forgetting their brother." I took mine mechanically, with a few cold words of acknowledgment, wondering if it was- after all-a purely brotherly feeling he entertained forDemis, as he stooped to shake her hand and to smile back her glee- ful thanks. Her wistful eye seemed still to detain him. The simple farewell formula had been spoken; hand-shakings successfully accomplished. Why then did he still linger? I thought that he wished a few words alone with my cousin, and taking the pitcher, I went to the well to fill it; it was the -readiest excuse for gratifying their evident wish. As I opened the door I caught their lowered voices;' his-tremu- lous with agitation, sweet, earnest, tenderly. asking, "Do you. doubt my faith! Remember, I have your promise." Her happy laugh answered him. I had hardly reached the well- when he joined me. "How did you fathom my desire to see you alone " -he asked, with a confident laugh. I stared in surprise. "I did not," was my cold answer. "Well," he began, hesitatingly; "I do wish to speak of something, yet hardly know where to begin." "I know it already," I broke in quickly; looking, as H said it, deep down in the well, that I might not meet hislaorok of embarrassment.' When I looked up--amazed at his long; silence-he was scanning my face, searchingly. i- "Then you do know my communication. Have you the gift of second sight?" he asked. . - ^ - t:: "Why how can I help it?"I said, irritated athoi'gfocx4 -ed explain so very palpable a fact. "It is asplain as day;!: ;Yot wish me to take good care of your--your teasure4 tYiAM 12 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] tau to :clmu it," I subjoined, quite in the approved romantic Byfe, at which he laughed. "It is not in my line, Mr. Hlume. iI have no influence there now; you have driven me "Buat I deny tjht I havedriven you from any place. That would be, indeed, ungallant." His irony angered and per- plexed me. :'While I meditated a fitting response, he resumed, witk a light laugh, still more galling: "Then it is a treasure, Miss Ruby " - ::' "Don't you consider it such I asked, indignantly. s:Undoubtedly," was the cool response. 4," You don't deserve it," I cried, angrily-feeling the im- potency of the retort. --Nof I dare say. Will you condescend to explain its nature- Is it gold, or silver, or land? I it invested in un- salable flesh) or, worse than all, is it buried treasure?" "Not the latter yet," I said seriously. L It rests, however, with you." "Romantic, decidedly," he laughed. "Whose life hangs on the uncertain thread of-my going or coming? Yours P" His tone was too sneering to be longer borne. Heaven forbid!"I cried hotly. "When I throw my life away for a man's selfish thought, it will be for one I think worthy of the sacrifice." tHe frowned; then answered, with startling impudence: ;-Ietmay doh't seelwhy you should be piqued, Ruby, at my efforts to amuse a sick girl." ;-J:! jlom the imputation, Mr. Hume. What is it to me, il, any way PI I had lost all patience withthe man. "Oh!" lth htI, B"forprompt- aid to deal his egregious vanity a delat-iokah? et, the more I helplessly entreated, the more "te 'V it wo*recdeded from stramig thought; and mPBIA W 2 there he stood, self-poised on his cumbersome :coaciit, serenely smiling down on me. ; You and I will understand each other- better some'day, Miss Ruby," was his hopeful prophecy. ' Ah I I fancied I had attained to sufficient knowledge of that theme, now," was my curt, pointed answer,. . : His placidity was at last troubled. The current of truth did not mix well with the oily waters of conceit. His. startled eye caught mine, then shrank from its. steady gaze. "This isnot the reception I expected for my communication, Miss Ruby," he faltered. - " I presume not I Is it your first disappointment, sir l" Very crustily I said this. I relished exceedingly; this bri-ef opportunity -of paying off old scores--only it was too brief. "I wonder now," he went on, "if you really .feel this. I thought you liked me a little. A little, Ruby-----?- ," He paused, eagerly. I was silent. He resumed, smoothly:: "What I am to your cousin, need make no difference to you-; you are separated in my regard as far as the poles." "There is no need of asserting this,. sir. The fact- is patent to all. I have no desire to dispute it, or to will it. otherwise. Now that you have at last successfully .accom- plished your mission-self-imposed, sir;-6-he never acceded to it-perhaps you will say good-by in a decently civil toneri and allow me to go in. You see," glaueing at the window, "that Demis is watching u^s What will she thin :of your conduct " - .... - "It is nothing to her," he said gruffly.-. , You seem dfe termiued not to understand me. I have waited so;long for --othing, it seems,:' ' . ... -,- . H "t It,seems: so, truly, Mr. Hume" -..... ;- ' The fault is, undoubtedly-my 'own:i": ' ; ... page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268, RUBIA. , Very possibly, Mr. Hume." "Mister, Mister!" he echoed, angrily. "Why cannot you call me Elliot, as Demis does! Will it blister your mouth to be friendly 2 Even- a prude may stoop thus far." I passed over the scornful close, and answered his first question. "For that very reason, sir. I have regard for her rights; but it seems you have none." He made a movement of sur- prise. I went on. "Elliot Hume, I heard you tell my con- sin that you loved her. Your every glance, word, tone, has long repeated the assertion." I expected him to look confused, to falter, as I hurled on him this home-truth, with a steady gaze. But I was mis- taken. He grew bland, gentle, even tender; the waiting sneer melted into a smile. I saw his motive clearly.. It was to wrench jealousy from its supposed stronghold. For what purpose, I knew not. I was fortified. "And if you did, it was only to appease the pang of part- ing. If it gives her peace, what matter? And a transient peace is better than none at all. I pity, and seek thereby to soothe her. It is but little, at the best. You know, in your inmost heart, that you alone possess my every thought; that all other affection is but chaff to fill an idle hour; the pure grain waves and ripens there for you. Be noble, be gener- ous, then, Ruby, in this knowledge of your power. Grudge not the paltry civilities of a few fleeting hours; the soothing cares bestowed on another. Trust me; trust me utterly. I swear you shall never repent it!" I know not which emotion predominated, as he serenely uttered this; aversion to his sophistry, or disgust at his hy- pocrisy. And at the close-made eloquent by lip, and eye, and gesture--at the appeal to my generous tolerance thereof, au gnr RTUBTNA. 269 my contempt for the mean, weak soul before me made me grind my teeth in rage. I eyed him scornfully-mute with passion. Words eddied up to my lips, and died in the strug- gle for expression. t"No wonder Eve fell,-" thought I. "The serpent is always fair. His flattery is sweet as honey; his promises threaded with light." Sinuous his form, as he leaned gracefully over the curb. Magnetic his eye; its gaze formed for charming. Yes, the analogy was striking. I half expected to hear the quick, sharp rattle, or the dreamy charm lulling the senses to sleep, ere the fangs sent forth venom. But the venom had been sent prematurely. And the insult was too apparent. Pride, will, gave no signs of succumbing. Defiant, I met his gaze, and answered it. His eyes lowered, baffled; their eager scrutiny changed to doubt. His mouth contracted into a sneer-one not a stranger. It did not move me. Ire had been aroused ere the charm was complete. It was not to be easily lulled into forgetfulness. I turned to go. I will stay no longer," I said, coldly.' "And so -good-day and good-by, Mr. Hume; and if con- sistent ,with your past and future intentions, I sincerely hope that your journey may be a peaceful one." "It will be," he said, as he extended his hand: mine -met it half-way. He looked so sorrowful, that an apology rose to my lips-quickly suppressed. I only said to him, "We need have 'no differences that I know of, Mr. Hume: I can freely forgive your mistaken notions." Well! he was gone; and I was scarcely glad. Life, after all, is too sweet and brief for bickering. I had longed- for his departure, as the advent of deep peace. Instead, came the silence of desolation. Then selfishness for the moment stood aside, as pride sternly accused it of grieving for a phantom; page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 2t0- UB SrLA that m which it could never have part or parcel. Enforced Comfort is but sorry comfort after all. I thought-of Demis with forgiving pity. I longed to bind up the broken heart, sorrowing for a needful: absence. But then the past crowded up into full vision, overflowing with hateful incidents, bristling with countless stings. I was no worm'to: kiss the'foot that crushed me; that handed me as, my portion, premeditated' contempt. Clear as the water into which I gazed, came the sequel to my mind; I was in no mood for listening to it under the sound of those Tetreat- ing foof steps, knelling away into the distance with- such fear- fil, certain precision. There are some things incapable of analysis. Sweet and bitter in our daily cup will mingle so persistently. I leaned over the well-curb and- burst into bitter tears, regardless now of prying eyes, or voices of scornful, compassionate inquiry. Yet I was not in the least sorrowful. They were merely tears ' of bitteir indignation. So spake Reason promptly, when I questioned her. So I repeatedly assured myself, as I leisurely X' returned to the house. CHAPTER XXIV. IT is June; fervid and glowing with flowery sweetness. Sunset gilds the western skies; scarlet and golden sheets cover its broad surface, and tinge the mountaintops with beads of fire; The blue of mid-heaven grows deeper, darker; dove-ilie clouds;sail airily over it. A few stars faintly open their twinkling lids, as if to sleepily watch this grand approach of a world's profound slumber. One, more adventurous than. the rest, and glowing like an eye of flame, already dips eau- RlFBU A. - 2I'- tiously over Greybaul's summit, and sinksslowly into its gor- geous bed. - - I sit in the farm-house looking at this calm loveliness off a dying day, whose hectic flush -is gradually paling.. Deborah, with a pail and dipper in either hand, stoops over the garden beds, sprinkling with cool moisture the drooping plantse'. On the upland beyond, stalks the burly form of Uncle Joel, sur- veying, with true farmer-like satisfaction, his promising acres. He leans occasionally on his trusty staff, not disdainful of this- friendly supporter of age and weakness. Aunt Rhoda placdly knits by the open window. The roll of "blue mixed" per- ceptibly lessens with every round of the busy fingers, and ia its stead grows the long-seamed sock for masculine :wear, "Milkin' over," she can afford a clean aprona cap, and-an interval of repose. The family Bible lies in her lap-opened- at St. Paul's Epistles; and as the words of the benignant Apostle fasten her attention, her lips move ina pleasant mur- mur. Demis comes down from her chamber;:, arrayed ia white muslin dotted with tiny pink sprigs, looking quite too ethereal for the approved model for a country lassie; the texture scarcely whiter than her cheeks, from which the plump contour-and brilliant hue have departed, with sleep; less nights and aching days. "Anny, Anny,' calls Debby from, the garden, ".come in now ;. that's aJlady; and be fixed up a speck. I declare for't you look like a fright I! Nobody wouldn't guess who 'twas, if they'd ever seen you afore, and knowed you could look like folks. Do see that are child's face i" she indignantly added .pushing Annah before her into the house. "I want you all to take a realizin' sense on't. Red's a piney./! What can possess her to race round in that are medder -o, in sech hot weather, Is mor'n I can tell. For my part, if I hadn't nothin' e page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] 272 RUBINA. else to see to, I'd git'n the shade an? try to keep cool." She lifted a corner of her dark blue apron and polished off her ' forehead'; then diverged downward, passing lightly over her cheeks, and vigorously wiped her mouth. Aunt Rhoda looked up from her book: "There'll be music 'nough if Har'ner's gal is sech a tomboy as that one. It would keep two men in hard work to do nothin' but jest keep track on 'em." Debby dropped her apron. "No fear o' that," she retorted. "I'll warrant ye, she's a proper well-behaved gal; sober as a deacon. She bain't no medder to run in, you know. After all, 'taint natural to see an old head on young shoulders: I ruther see a romp, of the, two. I hear wheels, as true as fate. Thev're comin'!' What a Bristo' load!" and she peered out curiously. Debby was right. "Har'ner's gal" was very "proper ;:' exceedingly womanly in speech and manner, very fashionably attired, with dainty feet encased in silk-clocked stockings, and red morocco shoes. A broad-brimmed leghorn flat, with a wreath of Vale pink roses, crowned her yellow curls. One arm awkwardly. managed an enormous doll-manufactured from white cotton, with very wide open eyes and the broadest of snub noses--its figure gayly bedizened in crumpled blue tarletan. The other hand extended a tiny parasol, opened to display its full-frilled border or to ward off the baleful effects of the rising moon. The little creature came swinging into the house, imitating to perfection her mother's gait, and, frigidly responding to her aunt's offered salute--as an unpleasant matter of necessity-demurely slipped into a seat. My aunt Lucas was a portly lady; florid and. freckled, with the lightest of brown hair, the thickest of thick lips- purely Anglo-Saxon-and very faint and far away gray eyes: RUBINA. 273 merely a glimmer, and void of expression. There was an air of would-be condescension in all she said and did, intended for a mark of exclusiveness, and to betoken her intimacy with gentle breeding. It was too ludicrous to be offensive, as also was her perpetual reference to her "genteel neighbors"- with each name, a prefix of their rank, wealth, and notice of her own worthy self. She was possessed, also, of the impe. rious manners of her sisters, and seemed vastly gratified to issue orders by the score; to see people fly in all directions' to execute them. Her husband must have suited her to ai charm. He did her bidding with a meekness truly Mosaical. She evidently was the orbit round which he revolved, no unwilling satellite. Being of fragile dimensions, it was only natural to plant himself under the shadow of her wing, look up, and be .protected, in return for his- devotion. Conse- quently, when she told him, in the fewest possible words, to "go and look after our baggage," he obediently turned and patted away. "Law!.*Har'ner, Joel'll fetch it in, bam-bye," said Aunt Rhoda, assiduously volunteering to untie a troublesome knot. "Well! Mr. Lucas is used to it. He knows right where to take hold. I tell him when he's out of business for him- self he must, expect to make himself useful to home. Are these Car'line's girls 8" she inquired, when fairly divested of her many wraps. "Why, I had an idea they were small," she said, in sur- prise, attentively scanning us. "Well, three or four years does make a difference, 'specially at a certain age. I tell Milly sometimes, she grows so fast I shall have to put a stun on her head"--at which harmless threat Miss Milly simpered, and looked lovingly down on her doll-"there's no use a pulling out tacks. I'd rather make than mend, any day." 12*. page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] 274 RUBINA.- f It's. seven year and over sence they come here," cor- rected her sister. X "Whys it can't be possible!" was the -answer. She ap- pealed to me; ;but I confirmed the statement. , "Well, time does slip: away faster thai we're aware of, don't it-! I tell Mr. Lutcas every-year grows. shorter and shorter; I dont. know what they'll get to be finally. It used to seem an age from one Christmas to another, and from one Independence Day to another ;:now it don't seem no time at all. I meant to have visited .you before, Rhoda," she added,- apologetically, "but Mr. Lucas's business is so confining, I don't like to go without him; none Of the first ladies do. But you might have visited me, I should have thought." Her sister might have retorted, with perfect truthfulness, that she never was asked, but she observed a prudent silence. "We've moved sence you was there," resumed Aunt Hannah; " we found the house getting quite too small for comfort." Yis, 'twas ruther contracted, I thought," politely acceded Aunt Rhoda. - . Her sister looked displeased.- "I don't know as it was so very small," she said, tossing her head.. "The size is no sign of gentility. Many of our first people live in smaller ones than that, let me tell you; and it's in an exellent neigh- borhood. AllthePetersesandMcCloudslive right round there. I don't know where you'd find grander folks, I don't." ' "Oh ' hastily interpolated her sister, ' I didn't. speak on that account. It looked well, but 'twas wood,qou know, and I was afeard 'twould catch afire quicker'n the rest. I noticed them was all brick or -stun, with blinds on 'em too." "Well, yes; that was one reason we moved. We never had blinds put on; 'twan't wuth while, as we didn't expect to live there.' RUBsNB. j2t While thesisters thus exchanged confidences, Millicent had, been displaying her graces for Annah's wondering eyes. Her stately parent's glance suddenly fell upon- her, and thus re- minded of a neglected propriety, she requested her to "go and shake hands." Very nimbly was this done, very coolly also, and she returned to her seat. Annah was essentially of a social disposition, and, after surveying with a puzzled ex- pression the unpromising field, she drew near her cous'i and tried to be friendly, opening the meeting with an in- quiry as to her age. "Seven," was the curt reply. "So am I. Can you fish " cried Annah. "No! it's dirty work, ma says." "Yes, but who cares? Dw'ght makes the cutest fish-poles outofwillow. I can catch heaps of shiners, but the-trout are shy." Miss Milly looked uninterested as Annah continued,- and scornfully declined an invitation to " go to-morrow." ' Then Annah tried school, and elicited some pithy answers. Evidently the little maid intended to waste no words upon her good-natured inquiries. "My pa's rich," said the dainty maiden, drawing her slight form up proudly, and looking hard at her discomfited cousin, who presently rallied to ffirm stoutly: "So is Uncle Joel." S "But he is a farmer," replied Miss Milly. "Well, what is your father!" inquired Annah. "He's a-a-well, he makes money," she said, triumphantly. "That must be nice," assented Annah. "I'm afraid Uncle Joel don't. I never saw him do it." "Pa goes away in the morning without a cent, and comes' home with a big roll; oh! as big as my fist"-holding nup a small enough affair. "'Our house is beau'ful. I thought ftnolO was poor; the furniture is," she said, disdainfully. - : page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] RUBINA. Then the little heiress asked, " Who made your dress ? It's as old-fashioned as the hills !" "Cousin Demis made it. It's pretty too; and Demis is beautiful."' "Yes," observed Milly, with admirable coolness, "she is prettier than your sister. Ruby is a real homely old poke. I wouldn't own her," and she giggled mischievously. Annah frowned and left her. That night she declared her belief that they should not agree at all. "Law !" said Debby, " don't you know what she's up to She's only showing off her great gifts, that's all. I guess 'pon a pinch, you can get on your high-heeled shoes as well as she. An' she'll haul in her horns 'fore she's many months older." Aunt Lucas seemed to think that her country relatives had no susceptibility of fatigue. She embodied in her ample pro: portions a compound of indolence and selfish exaction which soon grew oppressive. She managed to loll aimlessly around a portion of the domains nearly every fine day, coming in after- wards with the declaration: " I'm tired to death;" and, throw- ing herself on the lounge for a nap, she made no scruple of handing me a fan, with the request to " keep the flies off, as they most eat me up." She ordered things sent up to her room, as though a corps of well-trained servants were held in kitchen reserve for her especial use. She evidently thought our muscles-strung with iron, for she left huge piles of soiled 'linen, drifting into corners of her room, to be by us cleansed and ironed for future use. She left her bed unmade and room unswept; if these offices were not performed for her at-in her estimation-a reasonably early hour, she assumed an injured look, very hard to be borne by such hospitable persons as Uncle Joel and his wife. She thoughtlessly kept meals waiting her pleasure, regard- less of the fact that, in a farmer's household, a greater neces- sity for punctuality exists than in a luxurious city home; regularly, just at the critical point of serving the dinner hot, after the chairs were placed and the host standing impatient, she would be missing; regularly some one would be sent in search, only to find her comfortably disposed for sleep. "I require a great deal," she'was accustomed to observe, sleepily lifting her night-capped head. " Is it possible? How early you dine in the country! Well, I will try to come in a few minutes." This meant an hour or so. 'For several days we politely waited, and in accordance with a hint from her husband, that the practice was a usual one, and that her dinner sent up was a pleasure to her-I volunteered to do the same;. but finding- it likely to become au established ordinance, Aunt Rhoda rebelled, and one day coolly served the meal as usual. She made her appearance only to. find a cold repast, which she disdainfully pushed aside, declaring a preference for "a plain diet of cream toast, poached eggs, and tea." She mor- tally offended Debby by calling her one day "a servant," and wondering how we allowed her a place at the family table. "To think," muttered Debby, angrily, "how she was brought up: she used to scrub it as hard's ever Mis' Martin does. She allers lived on a farm. I've been by the old Lee place many's the time, up here in 'The Notch !' She used to know how to make butter and cheese, and to spin flax and tow, and all that are, if she has forgot it all now. Didn't dress very fine nuther, in them days; wore linsey-woolsey gowns and check aprons, and went barefoot allers in hot weather. Oh! I reckon I can tell her a few. I declare for't I won't page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 RUBINA. put up with sech abom'nible airs.- If 'twan't for John Lucas-he's a likely man--I'd pack her off; bag an' bag- gage. I know what I will do. I'll clear out. Servant!" quoth she, passionately. "I ain't a servant; never was one, an' what's more -to the pint never will be, for Har'ner Lucas, She'd better go down South, if she wants slaves at her heels continually. She'd make a good hanch to maul 'em 'round, only I'd pity the poor critturs from the bottom of my heart." Having thus vented her opinions, with no interruption, she grew calmer, and finally quite condescending ' i can't, for the life o' me, see what's got into the woman," she said, con- temptuously. "Car'line, now, didn't-seem to feel no bigger arter she put up at the city, and ryve heard tell as how York was a good sight bigger'n where Har'ner lives." "Folks is diff'rent, I s'pose," said Uncle Joel, who came in during her harangue. "Don't you mind nothin' she says, Deborah! It's all in -a lifetime, you know!" "Well now, Mr.- Martin, if 'twan't for Demis there, I would go 'way an' stay A spell, to make my word good, you know; as true as I live, I would.' But that are child is dreadful poorly; don't know as none the rest on you see it, but I'll tell you one thing, and that is, that onless somethin's done, and mighty quick, too, she won't stay here long." Poor Uncle Joel gave a start, put on his spectacles and went into the keeping-room. He came out in a few minutes, just as Aunt Rhoda came bustling in from her cheeses. "Come now, Joel; them cheeses have got to be turned, short, order. They're gittin's mildewy as the mischief, and the orter has all gin out; I squeezed the last out the pot yisteiday. Now don't forgit to-night to git some more,- law! Mr. Martin, have you seen a ghost? You're as white 's a sheet." He prudently closed the door before replying. RUBINA. 279 "Why, Rhody, why on airth have'nt you spoke 'bout it 'afore . She is changed." (Seeming to forget that she had not spoken of it now.) "'Spoke 'bout the orter? I did," she retorted sharply, "Iast night; but you an' John Lucas was so took up with them city papers, I -s'pose it went in to - onie ear and out at t'other." - . "No, no," he whispered. "Speak lower, mother; do. I 'ain't deaf. I tell you it's our Demis, I meant. She looks as thin's a rail, an' dreadful weakly. I guess I'll step up to Dr. Torry's, an' ask him to call in, and see what ails her- leastways, git a strength'nin' mixture." "I guess you'll do no such thing, Joel Martin," said Aunt Rhoda, quickly. "You'll make her think she is sick, and then there'll be a nice fuss. B'tween you an' Deborah you'd conjur' up an 'arthquake, I do believe. I can tell I guess, as well as the next one, when -anybody's sick and needs the doctor. I'll steep up some motherwort, and she must go to takin' that along; it'll give her an appetite, and she'll soon pick up ag'in. She never did flesh up much in the summer season." - She never lost any afore though," muttered Debb)y from the closet, "but none so blind as them that won't see." Uncle Joel went off to turn the cheeses, feeling hopefully disposed towards the genial virtues of the basin of " mother- wort," which his wife put at once on the stove to steep. page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 RUBInA. ' CHAPTER XXV. THE scorching midsummer passed. Deborah was dis- abled for any service. One morning, descending the stairs ere dawn to go about the washing, she missed one step and was violently precipitated to the floor. The concussion of such a body-Debby was far from being a fairy in size- as well as her unearthly groans, brought the whole family to the spot, with dim notions of robbers and murderers- a frightened, though not a very valiant army. When as- sisted to rise, amidwsounds of suppressed laughter at her horror-stricken face, they quickly ceased, for one leg was discovered to be broken. ("Wall," said she, amid her sobs, after it had been properly set by .the doctor, and herself fairly placed in bed; " it's an old sayin'g much haste makes waste.' You see, I thought, as we'd got sech a powerful wash to-day, I'd jess git up still, afore daylight and tackle it. One hour in the mornin's wuth two at night, I think; but I guess I missed it. 'Twas so dark I couldn't see my hand afore me, I went by the sense o' feelin' till I fell myself'--he concluded, laughingly. This misfortune added seriously to our cares. The tor- tured limb swelled painfully, the severed bone being, badly splintered; and it required almost constant bathing, formwhich we could illy spare time from pressing household duties. Poor Debby writhed mentally, at her inability to perform the slight- est service. "I feel as if I should never grumble ag'in at havin' so much to do, if I only git round ag'in," she would say repeatedly, and end with a heavy sigh. Then, begging piteously for -RTBINA. 281 something to do, she would bribe Annah to bring her the bowl of potatoes to peel. It was worse than useless. She worried herself into a fever, and for days raved in delirium. I ventured one day to ask Aunt Hannah, who kept aloof from the sick-room, for some trifling attendance there. She threw down her novel, impatiently rose and followed me in. As I carefully bared the limb, and pointed to the basin of tepid water, such an ugly grimace crossed her face as I hope never again to witness. She picked up the sponge with one finger and thumb, as if she feared in its cells lurked the direst contamination. "It isn't a very pleasant job, Miss, is it?" she said, with intense disgust. I immediately signed her to leave-too indignant to speak. She never forgave me, deeming the request an insult. "Poor dear!" moaned Deborah; I I shall wear you all out. I ain't fit to live. Let me alone; this old leg'll do well enough. You was a goin' to help Demis, wan't you? She needs it." , " I don't care, father," said Aunt Rhoda, thoughtfully, the next morning at breakfast, " if you do step into Dr. Torry's as you go to 'the Intervale,' and ask Cornely ef she's a mind to come down'n stay a spell, and chore it a little. It'll be a great godsend if she will, tell her; and I'll make it all even. You see," she added apologetically to her sister, "Demis ain't stout. She fainted clear away this mornin' while breakin' up the curd. She can't stan' what she used to. Debby says I've overworked her; but I don' know; I never meant to. I allers said I'd bring up my girls to work, and 1 have." " Well, Ruby looks pretty. tough," was her sister's some- what heartless answer, accompanied by a direct gaze at page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 "- RUBINA. myself. "bemis looke delicut, to be sure; but you can't always. tell by the looks of a toad how far it can jump, you lknow." "' For the Lord's sake," groled Debby from the bedroom, "deliver me from sech a crittur as that! - Ruby's flesh and blood, Har'ner Lucus, which is mor'n I can say of you." Cornelia Torry was well pleased to come while the " city -folks" were staying. It was a rare chance to find out about the fashions and inspect their clothing to " see if t'was felled or only overcast." She revelled in reminiscences of others' shortcomings in this line. "But there's Mis' Deacon Sweet. She was fetched up in a city-to be sure 'twan't a city then, but 'tis now, so it's all the same in Dutch-says she don't care how. things are made, so they only look well on and hold together. Now, I allers look at-the wrong side; if that's all right, the rest'll do." She was fond of calling Deborah and herself " old cronies; 'bout the same age, and I 'spose one didn't git married 'cause the other didn't. Misery likes company, you know"-with a cheerful laugh--" not that I'm the wust off of anybody, by any means; and I must say I've never seen the man'yit I'd have, no' never! have you Deborah?" "Well," said Debby slowly, "I used to think so; but I tell you it's mighty nice to have a hum -and some one to-take care o'you when you're flat on your back and can't lift a finger. Talkin' and doin's two different things. I might a' had one, though, as well as anybody, if I hadn't been a fool." "Wh y, Debby," I said, a little hurt, "' haven't you got any one to take care of you now 2" "Oh yis, child! I don't mean that, but you know jest how 'tis. A hum o'my own. Nobody can't do as, they've a R3u B-N 283- mint to in any other; you can't in a sister's-houseeven. - H tell you, if I'se to live my life over ag'in, I'd do different in some things, I promise you. I don't want anybody to be an old maid, 'cause I be. I wouldf't be ag'in; and I needn't a been now, if I hadn't been a mind to; but law! -I never would have any thing to say 't'the young men; I wouldn't go t nowheres when they asked me to, and that ain't the way to manage." "Well, to be -sure! I never heard the beat!" said Miss Cornelia, in amazement. . I'm thankful I've got a contented heart " * "I am, too, if you have," responded Debby, dryly. "Speakin' o' chances," observed Miss Cornelia, rather nettled at finding -herself thus set aside, "I guess there ain't no Jack but what has his Jill. If I'se a mind to, I guess I could show chances with anybody." Debby smiled loftily. '"Wall, Cornely, you mustn't lay up nothin' I say," she said, in a conciliatory tone. "I'm's as spleny as all natur', and 't does seem to me sometimes as if I should fly off the, handle." The summer passed thus. October greeted us,-a hale and hearty sire. The cholera having scourged the city and taken its mysterious departure, our guests also vanished homeward, leaving a faint invitation for a return of the long visit. Uncle John timidly took me aside one day, and cor- dially urged my spending --the winter there, saying Annah should go to school with Milly. If she would stay through the entire course, so much the better. This came from his heart and touched me deeply. I accepted it for future thought-snugly bestowing it away in secret, that, when: oc- casion required, it might come forth for use. - owever, he started quickly away, as his imperious spouse appeared-at page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] RUB-INA. the door to order him off on some duty-;-assuming an in- conscious air, which led me to the truthful conclusion that this momentous offer was made solely on his own authority, and unknown to his conjugal mistress. He was probably doubtful if it would meet her approbation. Poor innocent, generous little man! I was doubtful, also, and though his dilemma excited a smile, I liked him too well not to be con- tent and glad to humor his scruples and preserve silence. Debby recovered sufficiently to be wheeled to the table. "I declare for't this feels like old times, to -git my hands in dish-water ag'in," she said, with' hearty satisfaction. "I tell you, Ruby, it's dreadful hard work layin' in bed, day in and day out, and others a waitin' on you. I hope I shall get so's I can stand on my pegs afore long; its onhandy, settin' and workin', you know." "I miss Mis' Lucas mightily," observed Miss Cornelia, who had come down for another week's stay-she resented tne idea of " working 6ut." She " only liked to obleege a neighbor, you know; 'cause ev'ry one had ups and downs in their life, and wanted favors. She was willin' to lend a helpin' hand, for her part, for she could'nt tell but she'd want the same in return. ' Live and let live,' her motter was. If folks'd act more on this ere principal, they'wouldn't come out o' the little end o' the horn, as much as they now do !" " It's agood miss, I think," replied Debby, curtly, at-which Miss Cornelia indulgently winked to me to say nothing-I had made no motion to speak-and condescendingly changed the subject. Mark came home this month for a week's visit. He was shocked at the alteration in his sister, and, in much agitation, demanded of me the cause. I endeavored to explain calmly, 4 R RUUA 285 but he abruptly silenced me, with " I'm going. for a doctor. It's strange my mother don't perceive the necessity of doing something. It's not like you either," and he eyed me re- proachfully. Good old Doctor Torry came, looked serenely down on his patient, felt the pulsations in her tiny wrist, and seemed a little in doubt. "Pult regular, breathin' good, no fever;" he audibly meditated. "Feel any pain ?" "No, sir," said Demis. "H'm, hum; have night-sweats any, or cold chills, or fever flushes ?" "No, sir," again said Demis, smiling. Doctor Torry smiled, too, and looked at her quite patroniz- ingly. "Guess don't much ail you, does there ain't playin' pos- sum, are you, to scare these good folks into fits ? Some little gals do it, and seem to think itrare fun." "No, indeed," said Demis, laughing. "That puts the pink into your cheeks a little, I see. How's her appetite ?" he asked, turning to her mother. " Not much to speak of," she placidly said. "Can't tempt it none." "Ah! just so Well, she won't crave any thing right away. I should recommend now," he resumed, slapping his knees thoughtfully, "a good stiff cup of yarrow tea; a little man- drake would be beneficial too, which I will leave you." He opened his saddle-bags, fumbled awhile, and held up a tiny vial to the light, full of a dark liquid. "And this you will take a'teaspoonful of every hour; shake the bottle well be. fore using. I will read up your case, and call again," he said, preparing to leave. I made the tea; she refused it, declar- ing it bitter and needless. page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 28e si w mReu BIN A. 'It's bitter and wholesome," I urged, approaching the cup to her lips. . , Perhaps so; :but not for heart-ache," she said pitifully. "Ruby, will he' read up' that name for my disease, I wonder?' , Dear Demis, don't talk so." I bit my lips, to keep in the tears. "You have no heart-ache. That is pure ndusense."' "Yes! That is what they call it, and they laugh at peo- ple for having it. I could tell no one but you this, Ruby. You are my best friend after all. I know it now. Don't let them sneer at me." , "Oh, Demis," I sobbed, "I was to blame then, more " "There, there, stop crying, dear; you hurt me ;" and the little hand came patronizingly down on mine, as in the old long ago. "Shake it off,. Demis," I urged; "you are so strong. It is only the weak who should sink under it. You have so many to live for who love you" "Yes," she answered sadly. "And I am dying for one who does not care for me one thought. I have been so deceived. It's my fate, I suppose, as Debby would say." "Not at all," I said. "Mine was the fate centring all life's dreary possibilities. I was to experience 'bitter dis- appointments, and lonely-perhaps sinful-hours. She never predicted such a future for you-'her bright darling,' she calls you;' and Mark ' his Gipsy Queen.'" She shook her head. "Better die young, than live old, soured, peevish, and rebellions. -Don't look so sad, Ruby. I want to die. I've had hours, when, if I could have got it, I should have poisoned myself,' to escape dragging out that one weary day. To look forward to years of such. days I Ob -it's dreadful,"' she added, shuddering, "this trying so hard not to think; not to regret; not to: feel." \ . ' RUBINA. 287 I turned away to hide my tears. I, poor worm, had so misjudged her. 'I don't care now, Ruby.- . Come back! You must hear me. It's, such a ,relief to talk it all over. I've walked the house for hours and hours, and gone to the gar- ret when I heard you coming? and down in the cellar in the cold, damp darkness I have lain, till I felt turned to stone. And I couldn't die. I couldn't even take a common cold. I've felt the spiders crawling over me, and earthworms, so horribly slimy and cold, and I lay still and let them crawl, to get used to the grave-worms, you know, Ruby Don't turn your face away; I like to look at it now, but I've almost hated the sight of it this past year. It seemed, some days, as if I must kill you when you put your arms around my neck or kissed me. Once, I carried the carving-knife to bed with me, and got up in the night, and stood over you with it-just to see how it would seem. I believe in my heart I was a murderer; for I got wild at last, brandishing it over your head, and I almost touched your throat with. the sharp edge. You slept through it all, little dreaming how wicked your dearest friend was. I confess I wanted to try it on you; but you smiled in your sleep, and drew Annah's head to your bosom, and that broke the spell. I was terri- bly frightened-to find how near I had been to an awful deed. I tossed the knife out of the window, lest I should be again tempted. Ruby, the devil put it into my heart; he was with me that night; he is with me continually, and I shall go to him I'm fearful, for I am so wicked." ' , Hush,- hush!"I whispered. "You are getting excited. You dreamed all this you mean, my darling. Stay; I re- member Dwight's bringing in the knife one- morning, and -wondering how it came there in the nasturtium-bed." *8 page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 288 RUBINA. - "You perceive then it wasn't a dream," she said quickly. "No; I have such wild, selfish thoughts. I used to pray, when a little girl, to God to let me die before my friends. It seemed to me I could never see one of them buried. Well, Ruby; it's awful, but I have felt lately, as if I could re- joice to see every one in th1? house in a coffin at the same time; and I have thought how nice it would be to have a dance at the great funeral. I don't want to have such thoughts, Ruby; I try not to let them in. I commence thinking reso- lutely of something else, and before I know it, there it is again; I am imagining it all over. Then I say over and over, aloud, ' no, I don't mean it; as true as I live and breathe,' -just as we used to, Ruby, when little girls; but the wild things come into my head again. I wanted to tell you all this, that- you may not think me better than I really am; and that you may forgive me for all my thoughts towards you, and for brandishing that knife over you. Can you for- give-me, Ruby, for that?" she asked, wistfully. "Yes! readily. That was nothing. You were not quite yourself. But why have you kept all this so long?, You are not afraid of me, are you?" '"Oh no! but I was so miserable, and you were not. How could you understand me? You cannot, Ruby, unless you ever feel as I have, which God forbid! I know how the poor lost wretches feel, flinging themselves over, bridges into dark, cool waters below. Any thing quiet and cool they seek, as I sought the cellar. I used to fear it, mortally, but it seemed my home, my place of .refuge at that dreadful time. Of course, I couldn't tell you this now, Ruby, if I any longer felt so. I do not; that is all passed away. Don't cry for me. I don't for myself any more. I feel beyond tears or any earthly longing. Nothing now could RUBINA. b tempt me to live for long years, and endure this all over again-for I 'should, when health, and strength, and ambi- tious dreams of the future came back." She wearily closed her eyes as if going to sleep, but soon opened them to say: "Augustis long since past; the' long vacation' is over. How easily some forget their promises." "He may have other engagements," I endeavored to say cheerfully. "You remember, he had received ah urgent invitation to go West with a party of college friends." She shook her head. "Can it be that he reads my secret, Ruby " her face crimsoned. "He does; and he will never come again.- Oh! I have seen-" "Nothing worth telling," I interrupted. "Now, don't be unreasonable. He is not worthy to-untie your-shoe. Here; drink this, and go -to sleep." "Why, how hot you look, my sister," she said, with a touch of her old gayety; and she pushed aside my hair, and patted my flushed cheek, as I stooped over her. "I like this, Demis. Go on. It sounds like your old self-or your young self, which you will. It reminds me of the evening I came here. I thought you the happiest being in the world. You are dearer now than -all!" "All?" she murmured, incredulously. "I am generous enough not to invade the sanctum filled by another." "My darling, no one fills it save yourself,"--rshe bright- ened--" be convinced and go to sleep; 'you have said enough for once. Besides, this tea is cooling; this famous dish of yarrow, which, it is to be hoped, will give you strength, and -spite of Dr. Torry's prediction--' a craving appetite.' "No," she said, with. a determined start. "The tea can wait, while we talk further of this matter*." 13 y page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 RUBINA. "To-morrow!"I pleaded. "There are no to-morrows in heaven, Ruby, and no re- serves; there should be none on earth. I used to have the queerest notions in my childish brain," she resumed, after a long pause; "I often wondered if I was not an adopted child-no wonder you laugh; I do now, when I think of it -I remember, full well, sitting hours in my little room, rea- soning myself into that conviction.. I believe I usually put forth for plaintiff the shrewd plea, that, if I was in reality her daughter, my mother would show forth more love for me. I ardently longed for it, and I have shed many bitter tears after witnessing how my playmates were caressed in their homes. Debby, to be sure, was always affectionate, but, like my mother, the boys were her especial gets. Dear Mark was such a teaze; but I know in his heart he liked me. Yet, that was not sufficient. I wanted some one to tell me so. My father would have been more demonstrative; it is his nature. But whenever he drew me to his side, or on his ,knee, and kissed me, my mother was always sure to start suddenly in sight, and say something sharply sarcastic-' she didn't like to see old folks make fools of themselves,' or something to the same effect-and he would put me down as if he had been shot. I believe he is afraid of her; she has such sudden ways. She never kissed me in her life. I never saw her kiss the others: consequently, the defendant's view of the case, including the customary maternal care of clothing and nursing in sickness, I always ignored, and ren- dered the same unlawful verdict. Even now, I have my doubts if she would have rendered those cares for love-set aside custom." "What a silly idea, dear Demis!"I said, smiling at hox fervor. RUBINA. 291 - "After you came," she .resumed, gravely, "all was so dif- ferent. It seemed as though Providence sent you in answer to my wants; a blessed gift. - What was your sorrow became to me, by some mysterious transmutation, my greatest joy; and when you sobbed through those long hours, that first night, my utmost efforts would not summon sadness. I felt only a thrill of satisfaction that you were even more misera- ble than myself, so that-I might win your heart by feeding it with comfort. You didn't draw back when I threw my arms around your neck; you didn't say coolly, ' There, that will- do: yout muss my collar,' when I pulled down your head to kiss you-as Amanda usually did. You returned the caress with interest." W Well, that was because it was pleasant," I interrupted, laughinig. "I never cared to kiss your sister. To please myself, I will give you one-two-yes, a dozen, and leave you. You won't let me say a word." "That's a pity-you are such a talker ;" she spoke quite gayly. "Go, if you will, but I want first to tell you-I may never have another chance-that perhaps there is an unsus- pected design in all afflictions; that one may be taken to make room for another's happiness, and then they in their turn, removed for the same cause: that your mother--don't think me irreverent or unfeeling-died to make my happi- ness, and I may-- I put my hand over her mouth. "Don't say it, Demis. It is a terrible thought. If you go thus far, whose happiness am I preventing, 'and when shall a I be taken from earth, for no other purpose than that anoth- er sinful soul may wax fat in the fulness of a brief joy, and then give room to its heir? No! we are not mere puppets of an unseen intelligence, I feel sure. We have our mission; we move in our appointed course,-Divinity thus reproduced." ** " ' ^ page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 RUBINA. "Ruby, it is a grand idea to me: this making death- usually so repulsive-a sacrificial offering. I would far ra- ther die that an object might be attained, the which my living rendered impossible, than to go out like the exhausted wick of a candle, simply because there is no further supply of vi- tality. At least, if one's life is shorn of good deeds, its close makes some amends, if it bequeath to one soul the priceless legacy of happiness." "What an admirable martyr you would make, Demis!"I said. She did not return my smile. She gazed at me earn- estly, and resumed, unheeding it: "But Ruby, it is hard for the living to view the great change in its beneficent aspect. The mystery of that future is shrouded with dread. We gaze aghast at the spectacle of the beautiful spirit seeking to be delivered from the thral- dom of the body. Human love is always proven stronger --in its hour of trial-for the decaying case, than for the fleeing, imperishable portion. -It appeals so vividly to every sense-the pale, lifeless lump, oh! so familiar-and it is hard to believe that all which once constituted it our own is not there still, though dormant from the reaction of physical pain." + She was silent now, and seemed dreaming, while a trium- phant smile 'wreathed her lips. I noiselessly left her. CHAPTER XXVI. THE Doctor came again. He announced, with solemn sat- isfaction, as the result of his researches, that "Demis had the consumption." RUBINA. 293 "But she don't cough none," remonstrated her mother. "Can't help that. Some never do," he responded, sen. tentiously; "but for all that, they die of consumption." He immediately commenced an application of pills, pow- ders, and plasters, after the good old rule. His unresisting patient must also be " cupped," and suffer leeches to be fas- tened-to her white throat, and- blisters to be raised, until she summoned courage to decline further torture. Dr. Torry, offended and at fault, left her. "I shall send Doctor Luther to see her," said Mark, the morning of his departure. He had lingered a month to see if his sister rallied under her vigorous treatment. "I don't testify personally to his skill, but all Chispa sounds his praises." "Dear me," said Demis, with a dismayed face, "I have had enough." "Of blue pills and powders," cut in Debby, quickly. "I should think so. She's had -a calomel sore mouth ever sence that fust dose. I knew how 'twould be in the time on't. Dr. Torry's a proper clever man, but he don't know ev'ry thing, no mor'n I do;" and she rocked, indignantly. "I never could abide merc'ry; it stays forever in the system, jest where you put it: nothin' less'n Gabriel's trump'll ever start it a peg. It'll have to come then, if weexpect to take these poor old bodies ip t'the New Jerusalem-though what on earth we want 'em there for, is mor'n I know. I know one thing, if I's to take my pick, after I'd once got fairly out of it, I'd bet I wouldn't be sech a fool as to take my own ag'in." "Dr. Luther is called all sorts of names," said Mark. "Debby can find out all about him when he comes ;"' he laughed; " she has a genius for putting people through the catechism." \ page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 RUB1NA. He came the third day from Mark's departure. He did not impress us very favorably, for he entered the house with. out the usual ceremony of a rap, inquiring abruptly for his patient. He looked coarse and ignorant; vulgarly presump- tuous in manner, and inelegantly careless in attire. He was perseveringly obtuse to all repellent movements on his pa- tient's part, and drew his chair to hers, looking in her face with decidedly non-professional disrespect and indelicacy. Demis intuitively shrank from him, yet she could not avoid a smile at his round, ruddy face--not unlike a full moon-- encased in an atmosphere of short red curls. - His little black eyes roved restlessly around the room; up at. the ceiling, then seeking the faces present, as he talked. He looked as if he might be bound upon some treasonable errand, or a burglar in disguise, seeking out the vulnerable points for a midnight attack; alternately throwing Demis bayoneted glances as she sat before him, as though he were thus prob- ing her disease by means of their lance-like efficacy. He deigned to ask her no questions: they would have been a vir- tual admission of the fact that his medical knowledge was not quite omniscient. Then he cleared his throat and gave us the result of -his analysis: "I see, Missis, that you have the induration of the circus lation of the wholaecorporeal system. 'The liver is the seat of life. It lies to the right, and projects to the-left. It is out of its orbit, and must be restored. Hem! The several vest- ments which encase each several offices of all that constitute the human -frame are highly inflammatory ; they must be sub- dued. Hem! Fever is certain; your rapid pult tells that story. Hem! The blood mounts to the brain, causing red cheeks; that's hectic. Fits sometimes ensue; I see 'em in prospect. Hem! You must stop drinking coffee and tea, RUBINA. 295 and eating pork. Tea contracts the nerves, and coffee thick- ens the blood : I know you eat pork, because your face shines. Hem!" ("So does yours," I subjoined, mentally.) "You musn't sleep with your ,winder open; night air's very injurus. Yes, Missis, I see your system is in a very complicated state of internal disarrangement; more so than usual, although one constitution differeth from another, as one star differeth from another in glory. The prophet never said a truer thing than this-' all flesh is grass.' So it is, Missis; so it is: but we can cure the grass, Missis, and make it grow again, Hem!" He chuckled at his own conceit. How long this florid style would have prevailed, it is -quite impossible to say; for Debby, in misguided curiosity--no longer to be restrained- interrupted him with- "Wall, now, Mister Luther, do tell us what you're drivin' at. What be you? I never heard no sech talk afore: it's part scriptur and part somethin' else--a new-fashioned doc- trine, ain't it? I heerd John Lucas a talkin' one day-ever hear of him? He lives in Shiler, and's a broker by trade. He married Mis' Martin's sister; they've been out here this season-'bout there bein' a new kind o' medicine comin' into vogue; nothin' under the sun but leetle teeny pills o' sugar, as big's a pin-head. Dr. Torry makes his'n out o' brown bread crumbs, and they're as diffikilt to swaller as bullets, but't does seem kinder curus to take nothin' but sugar in- stid. A'spect though it's mostly for children, but when su- gar's high, seems to me6 bread'd do as well. He says they cure folks astonishin'; make 'em sweat like the mischief. I forgit what he called 'em, but be you one o' them sort?" "I am a dissectionist, Missis. I tell just by looking in folks's faces, whether any thing ails them. I learned it by page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] RUBINA. seeing the different expressions on dead people's faces. You can't hide an ailment from me. I see. it in a twinkling, Missis. Hem!" "Law! Then you've got second-sight. Born with a veil over your face, most likely; and sees strange things, now don't you a" she queried eagerly. His face clouded. "No, Missis. I don't have nothing to do with the devil nor his works. I'm a plain man, Missis; and if I do say it as shouldn't say it, an honest one too. Hem!" He now produced, from a bundle, tied up in a red silk handkerchief, all manner of pulverized herbs, and strange- scented drugs, which went through the usual professional for- mula of smelling, tasting, and pinching. Then he called for a quart bottle; with molasses, gin, sulphur, cream of tartar; with which, formidably arranged in a row on the table before him, he proceeded leisurely to compound an infallible cure for the above-named frightful combinations of disorders: his keen bead-like eyes keeping up their intermittent survey around the'ceiling, and occasionally darting aside to watch the effect on our faces of his mysterious proceedings. Over some of the drugs he lingered doubtfully-shaking his tawny curls as if fearful of consequences, should they leap into the quart bottle; but stealthily gathering our impressions by a quick glance, he invariably dropped them in. Finally, it was filled to the brim, corked and handed to Demis, who looked at it rather ruefully. "Have I got to take all that?" she asked, demurely, holding it up to the light. "Certain, Missis; and more too when that's gone. We must make an outlet for the system*: such a case as yours ain't cured by one dose, nor for nothin' To be well shaken before taken, Missis. Eight teaspoonfuls, mornin', RUBINA. noon, and night. When this is gone I shall compound more. That induration must be cured, Missis; must be cured. Hem! Hem!" ' Demis laughed as he departed; his little black eyes giving a farewell roll around the room, with his accompanying, Good-day, good-day, Missis. Hem!" This visit of the. learned man of science-the pride and oracle of Chispa-had, at least, one beneficial result: it afford- ed food for mirth, and in laughing at the recollection of his oddities, Demis temporarily got the better of that frightful "induration," which, after all the renovating virtues in the huge black bottle had been exhausted, refilled, and again emptied, obstinately lingered unseared. CHAPTER XXVII. RAP, rap, rap on the doors of the kitchen. Demis started suddenly into an upright posture, but quickly sank back again, on hearing a strong nasal voice answer the opening. During the past month a bed had been brought down into the keeping-room; for she grew quite too weak to 'climb the stairs to our little room. There were days when she scarcely left it; and others, when the flattering side of the disease came uppermost. She seemed so strong then, so well and cheery, that her father's face brightened into renewed hope, and we all looked upon her speedy recovery as certain. I opened the door softly, and peeped out. "It's a ped- dler," I said, leaving it a trifle ajar. Deborah was preparing pies for the oven, sitting at the table, with Annah standing ready to help her to articles be- yond her reach. "I kinder guess now, I've happened along 13* page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 RUBINA. in the nick o' time," he observed, depositing his hat and bundle on the floor; deliberately crossing his short fat legs, and keeping up a quick rocking motion of the elevated foot. "Now I've got an article-here, that the old Harry himself can't beat, if he tries till doomsday. It's jes' what you want precisely. I sell 'em in ev'ry single house I come to-and double ones too, for that matter; it makes no odds if they've got one or a dozen a'ready; they allers buy one o' me. I'm so pop'lar, you know"-with a succession of winks to Annah, who looked much astonished thereat---" and, I take it, this is : a leetle super extry to any thing of the kind that's ever been round before." "Humph! What is it?" asked Debby, curtly. "Can't you guess now, marm? Give you three, and out. You won't? well then I 'spose- I'll have to tell you. It' a patent pie-crimper, and a leetle the cutest thing you ever did see. I sold Mrs. Pierce up here, on Sampson's Hill there, one for herself and each of her gals 'gainst they step off-as they're sure to do. Likely young wimmen they be! If I'se richer, I ain't sure but I'd take one on'em myself at a ventur'--some takes one; some two (these crimpers I mean, martm), jest's they feel 'bout it. Don't want to urgenothin'. Have one for fifteen cents-two for twenty-five; so, you see, it's a sight cheaper to take two, after all." "I don't want any," said Debby, grimly. "But ev'rybody takes one," he stoutly maintained, "and some takes more. Now it's nothin' to me, I don't make 'em ; I git 'em down to York, and don't have a plaguev sight o' profit. Wait till you see one operate, marm. I, carry a block round with me, 'bout the size of a pie, you know--only not quite so temptin',"--he interrupted himself to indulge in a hearty chuckle, and a few more winks to Annah,--" to RUBINA. 299 show folks how it works." He whipped out of his bundle a round piece of wood and a small rolle' "There! you rest the pie so fashion, on this hand; then, with the other, take the crimper and go half way round, so fashion.; then turn the pie, and go the other half. Don't no juice run outthen. Can't if it's ever so much disposed to, to say nothin' of looks. I don't wonder there's so many cross women bakin' days!"- Debby turned on the chair and gave him a withering look, which he did'nt heed, but- rocked his foot and proceeded coolly, "have to stand pinchin' the crust down so long with their thumb and forefinger, it's 'nough to make 'em tired and cross. Now, with this little concern, you can do it in no time, and save your temper int' the bargain. Jes' try one on them pies!" he entreated. "Only try it once, and you wouldn't do without it on no consideration. Come! that's fair, ain't it I wouldn't offer it to ev'ry body. You'll need it too for your little gal, 'gainst she goes to housekeepin'. Pretty little thing she is too; looks jes' like her mother! Your'n, ain't she?" "No," answered Debby, wrathfully. "I ain't come to that yit, I hope. I never expect to, nuther." "Never mind, marm. Plenty o' time yit," said the un- daunted peddler, facetiously, rubbing his knee. "Come to think on't, you do look too young to own sech a strappin' gal as that. How old might you be, sis Q. he inquired patronizingly. Deborah gave her a look not to answer; accordingly Annah observed silence and shoved her the all-spice box, with officious zeal. "Now! I want to know if you print 'em that way?5" in. quired the peddler, rising and going to the table. "With an old back-comb! I never!" , ' page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] RUBINA. "It's a ,clean one, if it is an old one," said Annah, in- dignantly. "Certain, sis. But a few coppers ain't much to pay out for a nice one; real patent too. I'll warrent'em or refund the money. I ain't in the cheating line: mean to do the fair thing by my customers. One'il last a lifetime, but it's better to take two, in case one gets lost or stolen. Then a large fam'ly takes a good many pies, you know." "Yes, I know that; I don't want to hear no more talk about it," sputtered Debby. "Wall, don't want to urge nothin', but I think you miss it; to-morrow'll be too late. I expect to sell 'em all out before then. I've got over seventy here"-slapping his bundle. "' Had a cool hundred to start with; go like lightning, you see. Some takes one or two, jes' as they can afford; 'taint much, any way, for a convenience." Demis laughed. Just then he turned his face, and com- menced to pack his bundle. '( Why, it's Andrew Jackson," I cried, in surprise. "Mercy! how do you know?" said she, with a start. "Oh I not the General, Demis. Only one of my pupils. T must speak to him." -' Oh, I'm well as common, Miss Brooks," he said, in answer to my greeting; "though I've had a pritty tough cold 'long back; feel yit 'bout half and half, or betwixt hay and grass -as the farmers say. Glad to see you, Miss Brooks. Been meanin' to give you a call this long while." "And how long have you been a peddler, Andrew?" "Oh, all summer, off and on. Most sold out though. Yis, I've got the cutest invention, Miss Brooks; a powerful labor- saver," and he volubly repeated the preceding round of Aguments in favor of buying. "Can't git marm there to take RUJBINA. 301 one even on trial. Don't you want one, Miss Brooks? It'll keep, you know; won't eat nor drink nothin, nor take up much room. Cheap as dirt too.: I don't make no profit on 'em scursely. Now tJhis is all talk and no cider. I'm bound to trade; always do, you know." "I'd kick it out of the house," said Debby, hotly. "Just so," said Andrew, coolly. "Don't want to urge nothin'. You know your own feelin's best, I 'spose, but I really think you miss it; never'll have such another chance, see if ye do. Sell 'em ev'rywhere I go." He slung his bundle over his shoulder, and departed, still chanting the merits of his neglected wares. "Thank my stars! He's gone at last," said Debby, angrily. "Impudent young rascal as ever I see! If he don't come to the gallers some day, it'll be 'cause the rope ain't long enough to hang him. One o' your scholars, hey! A pretty lot they must have been, if that's a specimen." CHAPTER XXVIII. FAST and faster fell the first snow-flakes. The mountains were wreathed in haze; only their broad bases visible, crowned with firs, pines, hemlocks, and hosts of skeleton elms and beeches. Here and there a fluttering leaf-withered and sapless as a forlorn human heart-rustled wearily by the window to rejoin its fellows. Heaps of these lay crushed and sodden in their annual graves; their bright hues faded with long, lonesome autumnal drenchings. Demis lay mute for hours-often for days-comparatively painless; her thoughts apparently wandering in some fondly remembered page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] RUBINA. past, of which she never spoke. Then a holy calm would settle on her face, and I knew that she was meditating of coming mysteries. At, such hours her motler often en- deavored to draw her into conversation upon solemn themes, but the effort was always futile. The antagonism between the two natures could not be thus easily dispelled by con- fidence. Aunt Rhoda's voice never failed, indeed, to rouse her, but she answered her questionings at random, and sighed with relief when she left the room. Her father sat for hours on the bed's foot, watching her every motion with serious, misgiving eyes. He anticipated every want, and talked confidently of her recovery when wintel should have melted into spring; but it-was evident that fear mingled largely in the hopeful compound, daily mixed by him and held for her pale lips to swallow. None however seemed to think that she was really treading the very verge of the sunless path we all must enter upon sooner or later, either willing or reluctant voyagers, but Deborah. She shook her head ominously when she heard Uncle Joel's cheering prophecies, muttered unintelligible forebodings, or set up a dismal strain of some ancient hymn-her usual resource when her emotions overpowered words. One day, after hours of silence, broken only by the coming in and going out, of the household, she roused herself to say: "Did I not prophesy rightly? I knew he would not come!" "Do you wish to see him, Demis? He is easily sent for, you know." A radiant smile answered. me. "No! That is all past. I have thought, sometimes, that I must see him once more; but I do not desire it now: I wonder I ever did. I shall look down upon him from Heaven, as calmly as upon a stranger-only, there will be no strangers there: all will be RUBINA. 303 ' ' to me as brothers and sisters, welded to my heart with a spark of the Divine love. Ruby, I have also wondered at the smallness of earthly love. It is all full of self-with occasional pure sparkles in it perhaps, but still gross and calculating. Divine love is purity itself. Judas's gold can- not buy it. The tempter cannot seduce it. Humanity, in its worst form, cannot weary out its long-suffering patience. It is incorrupt and incorruptible. I have felt, sometimes, a brief taste of it. I believe I now love the whole world; at least I desire to; only ignorance will so crowd us into re- taliation. Ruby, Hused to be a passionate girl. I have hated intensely. I am sorry for it; do you think it will be remembered against me?" "I have been thinking of Heaven," she said presently. "Oh, Ruby, I have such glorious glimpses of what was once so dark to me. I see the dividing shores between Time and Eternity, and they are not gloomy. My precious sister, it is our blindness that makes them gloomy to us; but we shall slip that off like a garment, as we draw near and nearer. Time fades to a mere speck in the distance. I often fancy that I have left it forever behind, till I open my eyes and see your dear familiar faces still around me." "My darling, you are talking too much," I said softly. 'No! I do not talk enough. I cannot talk to the minis- ters, and I rarely see you alone. I love best to think, but God gave us our faith to tell to men; not to keep it unused and palsied. Oh! Ruby, I see revealed other mysteries, but a seal is on my lips; I cannot tell you. Oh! it is not a silent country. It is not music which I hear; it is not harps or angelic praises. It is far, far more wonderful, more glorious, more satisfying. It is Divine Harmony." She closed her eyes in a sort of blissful trance, and clasped her page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] 8304 RUBINA. wasted palms together; she neither spoke nor moved for several minutes. Annah looked in at the door, but I mo- tioned her away in silence. Presently she said, slowly: "You think your vision good, Ruby.- Imagine it in- finitely increasing. Conceive each faculty expanding with never-ending power. Conceive all earthly annoyances, and irritating hindrances, forever abandoned with this frail, ignorant body. Conceive the temporary reign of matter ended, and the immortal reign of mind begun. Then, can you imagine Heaven? No. Do you remember the evening when Natty was brought home? and our talk, that sad, watchful night F ." "'I remember many things which were said, dear Demis. We spoke of the future life." "Yes! Mark thought it a permanent location of the blessed abode of the saints above, and a dread abyss of woe below. He thought one abode ringing with hallelujahs of praise; the other, reeking with fearful curses and endless wailings of the lost. Ruby, every heart that overcomes, and purges itself of a great temptation, a great sin, is a saint-if un- canonized by doctors of divinity upon earth. Notwithstand- ing their limited number of 'The Elect,' I believe there will more saints than sinners stand before the 'judgment-seat.' How can we judge of every soul, every life; encumbered, as we are, with a still greater proportion of fleshy lusts and vain-glorious conceit? , The schoolmaster thought that heaven was not a country rather one state of mind which made heaven and hell; ye* he, too, believed repentance, pardon, impossible beyond the tomb. Reward, certain for the good; and punishment, never remitted, toward the wicked." "Yes, Demis ;"I interrupted. "I remember your startling RUIBINA. 305 them by observing, 'the Bible tells us that heaven is where God is; and it also says, that God is everywhere, even in the depths of hell. Then, of course, that must be a blissful state, call it by what name you will.' I recall, perfectly, their amazement, and Mark's saying quickly, ' Where can she nhave got such doctrine?' The schoolmaster said, thonught- fully: ' I have some old pamphlets of Parker's works ; Miss Demis, have you been dipping into them? They are in my room, I believe."' "Yes," assented Demis. "But, Ruby, I had not read his books; I never knew of their existence. That remark came uppermost in my mind, and I made it. It seemed to me the only reasonable conclusion." "Poor Mark was frightened," I went on. " 'Are you a dis- ciple of Theodore Parker?' he asked of the schoolmaster. 'No,' said Mr. Hume. Bu' t I like to read his works. I do not believe his reasoning. He so glorifies and ennobles nature. There is no God in nature. It is so futile, so earthly, that it falls apart with picking; a will o' th' wisp, it leads the unwary into miry bondage-a bondage un- chastened by Divine sovereignty.'" "I remember, I thought it very fine talk then," laughed Demis; "and Olive's question pertinent: 'Why do you read them, then?'" "Well, Demis, his answer was a good one. 'To profit by their false philosophy. I expect some day--God willing-- to be a minister. I must know what arguments to refute, or my preaching will fall to the ground.' I remember that Mark rather solemnly rose and offered his hand to the schoolmaster, saying, '"We are then brothers in Christ Josas our Lord ;' and how heartily Mr. Hume grasped it, respond. ing earnestly, 'I am glad indeed to hear it.9"' a* - page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 806 . 'wUBINA. "I see," Said Demis, smiling, "that you have a good memory; but," she- added, doubtfully, "' Mark will never be a successful minister; he has no taste or talent for the office," --she hesitated,-" nor Mr. Hume either." "Mark should be an artist, Demis. What a pity he burned his things!" X"No, I think his passion is for the sea," she returned de- cisively. "He took to drawing as the next thing to that; but, if you ever noticed, nearly all his sketches were of the sea-purely imaginary of course, yet showing whither his thought tended. He ran away when a little boy, 'to go to Boston,' he said, when father followed and brought him back." "Why you never told me of that before," I said, in surprise. "No; I thought it best not; and, in fact, I had nearly forgotten it. I have a faint recollection of the whole scene. Mother was opposed to any mention of it, but Amanda would maliciously speak of it when Mark teazed her too much. Mother has a delusive idea, that the word sailor is synonymous with every thing wicked: profanity, drunk- enness, Sabbath-breaking, and so on, through the list of stereotyped vices." ( Stereotyped vices, Demis?" "Yes. For there are vices just as bad as these, which no one ever thinks of accounting as such, because they affect less strongly our' physical well-being. To a sensitive soul, they are infinitely worse. Well, Ruby, there is no such thing as persuading mother out of a prejudice, and she labored so zealously to wean Mark's thoughts from a seafaring life, that of course she succeeded; she always does. But he did not forget. Yes," she laughed softly, "Mr. Lee asked him, *- RRUBINA. 307 a year or two after, what book he should give him for com- mitting so perfectly to memory the Gospel of St. Luke? Mark forgot that he should nominate one of a pious character, and promptly put forward, 'Captain Marryatt's Tales of Ship- wrecks, if you please, sir,' much to the good Elder's horror. However, he wisely said nothing, but forwarded next day . by Bessy, ' Doddridge's Saint's Rest,' that exceedingly good book, which everybody respects- and values, but nobody likes to read. I used to think if I ever had a library, I should have -for respectability's sake-to put it on one of the shelves; but I shrank in despair fromn the thought of its perusal." "But your mother is equally opposed to his painting." "Yes; she wants her own way. She is determined that he shall be a minister, so one he will have to be. That is the reason of her bitterness toward art. Olive now--- " - Why there she 'is, coming through the gate," I cried, springing up. "Bless her sweet face. It seems an age since we have seen it." I met her at-the door. "- "How is she?" nodding her head in the direction of the keeping-room. I thought her un- usually pale and anxious. "Gradually passing away. Don't start, or look shocked, when you see how she has changed. It annoys her exces- sively. And where have you kept yourself, Olive, during all these weary weeks?" "Oh!" she said, painfully, " do you not know? I thought you would have heard." "I have heard nothing. I have been nowhere to gather information." Well, we are hoping that it is only a temporary ailment, that will soon yield to careful treatment and absence from i .i . page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 8s08 RUBINA. exciting causes. "It is Avis," she whispered huskily; ' her reason is gone completely. She is quite gentle most of the time, but at times she raves fearfully." She removed her bonnet and shawl. "I can stay until evening," she said sadly. -( She is quite herself to-day." I was shocked. "Is it hereditary in your family, Olive?" "Indeed no," she answered quickly; " we are at a loss to account for it in any other way than these late revival meetings. She is naturally shy, and deeply imaginative. She was one of the first who were convicted, and her anxiety to get relief was intense. We all prayed with her, and for her; we held special prayer-circles on her account, but still she was tormented by her overpowering sinfulness, and could not feel that she was pardoned. She saw others received into the Church, and. it made her more earnest in her en- deavors. I have frequently heard her up all night, reading aloud from the Bible; walking her room and making such pleading prayers. - Ruby, it was enough to move a heart of stone. She fairly wrestled for the blessing, but still it was of no avail. The ministers encouraged these unnatural strivings, and all we could say was thrown to the winds. Mother tried to convince her that she was accepted, but she said that she knew better. She looked for the sudden peace to fall on her bruised heart,-the great blissful calm of which other converts tell,--and she would have nothing else. Elder Fuller exhorted her to strive until she obtained it, or she would be condemned forever. It haunted her; and oil, Ruby! she at times thinks she is damned, wten her oaths and-revilings are terrible to hear. When in a quiet mood, she abhors' all mention or sight of Elder Fuller. If he passes the window, -it makes her rave immediately; she thinks him coming to conduct her to torment, and we have RUBINA. 309 been obliged to request him to stay away. We locked up the Bibles from her--for she will read constantly, and dwell upon the denunciatory passages, as particularly applicable to her own case. It was of no use, however. She ran off one day to Mr Wright's, and told them that we were such heathen that we had not a Bible in the house; begging so piteously for one, that they had not the heart to deny her. She keeps it hidden from us at night." "It is all because of those exciting meetings," I cried, in. dignantly; "I wonder there are not more made insane by them. Itas shameful; it's abominable; it's--- "Hush! oh, hush!" she entreated, wringing her hands and crying softly. "It's hard enough to bear, Ruby, but I don't feel as you do about it. It's the will of Providence, doubtless, for some wise purpose. ' Whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth,' you know. I need this trial, doubtless; yea, I welcome it gladly, for it sets to rest all my doubts; I know by this scourging, that I am received into the heaven- ly fold." "Well," I said, nowise convinced, " don't mention it to Demis; she is too weak to bear the shock. Oh, Olive! you should hear her triumphant creed. You should see how calmly she is treading eternity's marge. Not one anxious thought to distress her: not one sweep of the wind of empty doctrine can overturn the firm, sure foundations of her dying faith." "Don't the ministers come to talk with her?" she in- quired, anxiously. "Oh, dear! Yes. Every week; and I -am weary of their trite exhortations and meaningless prayers. Excuse me, Olive,-but when they roam so over the old monotonous round, seeming never to know how or when to conduct a I ** ' . ' * .- page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 310 RUBINA. prudent retreat, I always feel a reckless desire to clip the. tangled thread somewhere, anywhere, so it but bring the reliefof silence. Now, put on your company face, for here we are at the door, and that sorrowful visage tells its own story." Demis greeted her friend warmly. She grew cheerful, animated, and 'all at once, declared her intention of " sitting up." I remonstrated; she had not risen for a week; but she showed me a flash of her old wilful ways, and peremp- torily told me 'she -knew best.". So we soon had her snugly ensconced in a soft, warm rocking-chair by the window. "Now, this is nice!" she cried, delightedly. "You two are my world, and thisjs our haven of refuge. The sky looks wintry and sullen. The wind moans drearily; but what matter 8 Inside, all is peacefully secure. Why, it's a step toward the perfect realization of our day-dreams, Ruby," she said gayly. "Ah! those were too extravagant to last." ".And what might they have been?" laughed Olive. "Oh, the- sweetest ones," I interrupted. "Demis, be quiet, pray! You are beside yourself." "No, you mean I am beside Olive," she laughed, gesticu- lating absurdly. "We were to have a nice little nest to ourselves-Demis, Annah, and Hon the whole, my pet, we will admit Olive, I think?" "Of course," said Demis. "Thank you," rejoined Olive, demurely. "A compli- ment from your exclusiveness, certainly; but I will first hear where this miniature Eden is to be located. I reserve my acceptance." "A lodge in some vast wilderness," sung Demis, saucily. RUBINA.- 3" l Nonsense! Fancy three rooms, neither large aot small in some populous city," I began. "Of course. It's a stretch of the imagination; but I can do it," said Olive. "One, containing a bureau, a wardrobe, two cots, and a rocking-chair; a pretty wall-paper, and a print of the 'Holy Family."' Olive laughed provokingly. "Another, contains more chairs; a sofa, an open piano, a round table; thickly strewn with books, magazines, and papers; a well-filled work-basket also stands on it, never lessening, as it ought, the size of its piled up contents. Pare harmon i- ously tinted landscapes hang on the white walls"--Demis stoutly petitioned for i gorgeously gilded wall-paper; but I for once was invulnerable--" a tiny clock ticks on the mantel, a pretty lamp sheds over the scene a mellow radiance." "Is it occupied?" inquired Olive, with interest. "]By all means. A dark-eyed lassie with rosy cheeks bends,by the pleasant fire-light copying musical score ;, hum- ming softly to herself the magical notes which the ready hand transfixes on the paper. Anon, she shakes her head merrily and'breaks into a louder warble. Shall I whisper to you of triumphal nights, when, flushed with victory over effort, and her love for art, the sweet intoxicating applause of listening thousands rigging in her ears-" "There, that will do," broke in Demis, with a wistful- laugh. "I didn't know that your fancy was so unmercifully vivid." "Very-well, then. Another girl, with disordered attire, and an ink-spot on each finger-pale, .haggard, and woe- be-gone--wrinkles her brow convulsively with fruitless effort to embody-the embryo thoughts in her brain. She frowns horribly, having a capacity therefor, and casts appealing page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 312 RUBINA. glances at the fair, lovely landscapes; they smile back on her a calm. disdain, and seem to nestle more lovingly to- gether, in their serener intelligence. The sweet voice war- bles still; the tiny clock ticks still louder. -Then the paper impatiently rustles: 'I cannot do it,' she cries; ' do what I can, the clothed thought in no respect resembles its naked progenitor. It is a weak, miserable, conventional worldling. My book will be a failure.' 'No, indeed, sitter!'-a young girl starts from the piano, whence wonderful ;vibrations have been floating out on the confined atmosphere; and, ap- proaching, drops a kiss on the tired brow;-' there's no such thing as fail to a determined spirit. I have heard you say'that, glster, a score of times.' 'Ah, yes! but I may be mistaken,' says the other, wearily ' It is a rugged path to tread, when not even the anticipation of success waits for one at the end. I abjure literature, and go straightway to shirt-making.' At yourperil! Put down your work awhile and listen,' and she darts, like a humming-bird, back to her stool; the tiny hands sweep a flood of harmony from the snowy keys. 'Ah! Von Weber is divine!' she murmurs passionately; 'is there any thing like it ' Demis, come and add emphasis to my paltry rendering, with your wonderful voice. " "When' am I to come into the seenie " inquired Olive, rather ruefully. "Ma belle, you are general superintendent and comp- troller of the customs of this fairy household," I returned. "Do you mean-the housemaid?" she exclaimed, in mock indignation. "Am I to stay in the kitchen?" "Ah! we forget the kitchen; for we boast one-a mimic affair, but containing, within itself, all essentials for comfort. A little table, spread with the snowiest of damask, the lightest Aw RUBIIN. 313 of rolls, the most golden-hued butter-with the usual oak- leaf stamp; pure, transparent honey, oozing from its perfect cells; young hyson, steaming fragrantly from the silver urn, also waits to greet us. Then the long evenings, gliding. away into yesterdays, on a pleasurable stream of reading, talking, planning, hoping, singing: very little work-the days are for that. Do you like my picture, Olive .' "Yes," observed Demis, dreamily; closing her eyes to imagine it all the more perfectly. "We have passed many wakeful nights in building such unsubstantial domiciles. A piano? I wish I indeed had one," she murmured wistfully. "I never saw one, but it seems as if I could play. I know I could breathe it all out; all, which, pent up here, threatens to strangle me." She smote her breast softly, then, as if suddenly remembering, opened her eyes with a start. "I feel absolutely strong to-day, girls. I should like to sing a little, if you will choose what you would like to lear." 4"Oh," I said quickly, " the first ballad you ever sang to me, 'Barbara Allen.' She laughed softly. "I caught it from Deborah. It is one of her old songs." She sang it with tremulous sweet- ness. At the first strain, Debby. opened the door, came in softly; and as the sad refrain floated away, the tears rolled down her withered cheeks; she wiped them away with a corner of her apron. "I know it's foolish, but I can't help it," she said at last, as Demis feebly 1 nghed at her. "It's as true as the grave; that story is. I hleard all about it in the time on't; long 'atore 'twas set to music." "Dear me!" whispered Demis, in dismay, glancing out of the window. "Here is Elder Love coming again It's worse than the inquisition!" " page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] RUINA. ^ "I knew somebody'd come," said Debby; "for I put two chair-backs together, and dropped my dishcloth, in't the bargain. I never knew 'em to fail." "He shall not see you if you say so, Demis," I said, with something of a martial air, I suppose,. for they all laughed. " I don't want to see him, but I will," said Demis, sweetly. "My mother would be displeased, if I made even a show of objection, and he would never forgive it. Besides, it will soon be over." I could not divine if she referred to the visit, or to her own stay upon earth. "Good-day, young wimmen !" was Elder Love's solemn greeting, as he entered the roomi followed by Aunt Rhoda, and deposited-his ungainly bulk on the side of the bed, close to Demis's chair. He ignored our presence further, and immediately opened a conversation with her. "Has the Lord been graciously pleased to incline your heart unto his testimonies yet, my young friend ?" A silence followed. "Do you feel the need of his merciful interces- sion by this time? or, is your heart utterly given over to the lying and deceitful vanities of the world A" No answer: I was mentally speculating, whether it would not be well enough, if he had an appreciative sense of these vanities, in-the shape of clean wristbands-his own were unwhole- somely dirty-and I resolved to give him a hint to this effect, if he continued his persecutions to an unwarrantable length. "What do you consider vanities, Mr. Love ?" asked Demis, placidly. Now, he liked to be called Elder; and this plain title by no means suited him. Hee looked angry, and ire- fully retorted: "Irreverence does not become the young; it is unseemly." * Demis looked astonished, but forbore to ask him his 1k RUBISTA. 315 meaning, and after a moment's pause, he proceeded to define vanity. "It springeth from an unregenerate heart, my friend. All carnal wishes and desires for the pleasures of this poor world-singing, dancing, and all manner of like sinful amusements; they are full of abomination in the sight of the Lord." . "Is singing wicked ?" I asked, demurely. "Not singing praises to Him with psalms, and hymns, and sperritual songs, young woman; but from frivolous songs turn thou away. They are a deceitful snare; one of the pits of the Evil One." "I like them," I said, mischievously, "although I cannot sing them; the more's the pity." HE& turned on me a wrath- ful glance. " Better be thankful, young woman, that you have escaped one temptation," he said, severely. He thus continued prod- igally sowing good counsel, but in his estimation it was wheat dropped in stony places; not one wayside flower of promise to decorate his spiritual hatband, when he should exultantly appear before his King. All around ran rills of living water, but in our blindness we saw them not; in our ignorant obstinacy we would not sip when offered. We rebuffed the generous donor, and spilled recklessly the priceless drops. We spurned the glad tidings of free grace, and slaked our burning thirst with the briny vintage of death-quaffed with unbelievers. He saw only one road to Paradise; the way he trod. "Come with me, or-you will be lost," he cried; "those other paths are flowery, and look.pleasant: but deadly miasma lurks beneath the shade, and they lead to a great gulf called Ruin ;"--never heeding the fact that all these diverse paths of our human pilgrimage must be submerged in the intervening river of Death; and that, perchance, all page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 316 RUBINA. sects, and creeds, and dogmas, will be stripped by the rush- ing torrent of their earthly significance, their carefully deck- ed apparel of words, and our souls enter the pearly gates be- yond, naked in the beautiful simplicity of the religion of Jesus. Let me do him- justice. He was sincere in his appeals. He labored faithfully, in his convictions of duty. His skirts were cleared from the blood of the perishing; for wherever he was-in. season and out of season--he broached to them this subject. It was uppermost in his thoughts, but alas! pervaded not his life, after the true Christ-like pattern. He might have preached effectual sermons, simply in living daily the -life of the saints; in wearing around his -self-righteous- ness the mantle of charitable oblivion to others' defects; the abundant vestments of Christ-like forgiveness. He remained until over the blue-gray sky slowly dawned a starless night, and never once was he silent. He reminded Demis that she was dying, and asked her if she was not ap- palled at the prospect beyond. With a radiant smile, she answered " no." o "What blind levity!" exclaimed the zealot. "How can you face' your God?" She turned towards him as if she would speak, but remained silent. His cold eyes lighted with a vengeful gleam. "Go! then," he exclaimed, "and find out, when too late, that there exists both a heaven and a hell." He rose and shook himself. What insane fury prompted- him to advance close, close to her side, and shout, with uplifted hand, as if venting a malediction: "Before the Most High I swear I am clear of your blood. I have done my duty. Be it upon thine own head. " Then, without even a farewell look, he seized his hat and departed. As his slouched hat vanished through the doorway, I turned to look at Demis: she had -fainted. RUBIJBtA. 317 'C It's a burnin' shame and disgrace," said Deborah, as we laid her in bed, and applied restoratives to her white lips; "a keepin' this sick child up three mortal hours a listfnin' to sech truck as that. If he darkens the door ag'in, I'll give him a piece o' my mind that he'll remember one spell; that's what I will. I ain't afraid o' the whole boodle on 'em. Got his high-heeled shoes on. Humph! He ought to have a guardeen put over him."' She dropped into a chair and fold- ed up her knitting. with an angry jerk that made the needles fly out, and the ravelling stitches form a closer acquaintance. "There now!" she said spitefully, surveying it in some dis- may, " see that, don't ye? That's all b'cause he come here and got me so riled up. It'll take the whole blessed evenin' to pick 'em up; and my sight ain't so good as 'twas once, nuther. I hain't nopatience with none on 'em," she exclaim- ed, wrathfully. Either the unusual mental excitement of the aftprnoon's talk, or the prolonged physical exertion of keeping up, proved too much for our dear invalid. A ghastly pallor succeeded the hectic glow, and she lay completely ex- hausted. But nature might revive. Uncle Joel's distressed look and anxious inquiries were not to be borne; at tea I sent them all away, and remained alone with her. Tears rose involuntarily, as I surveyed the change a few hours had wrought. As if she read my thought,-she opened her deep, dark eyes, and looked at me, pityingly. "Dear Ruby," she faintly whispered, "4 don't weep for me. He does not 'share my belief, but that is of no consequence; I shall meet him in heaven yet. what will make his happiness there, may not make mine; but we shall all be gathered into the same fold, close to the Infinite -heart. One pattern of the robe of righteousness will not fit every soul, but all shall be equally page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 1 -L RUBIN'A. clothed and satisfied." Olive here came in to say good-night. Her bonnet tied, she was slowly fitting on her gloves, as she stood by the bedside. Demis motioned her to stoop. "Don't go," she whispered faintly, her eye brightening into a con- tented smile as Olive removedier bonnet. Then she lay mo- tionless, except her eyes, which roved wistfully from Olive's face to mipe, and one small hand nervously clutching the bed- clothes. Then they turned lingeringly to every object in the room, as if seeking to faithfully impress their familiar out- lines on her failing memory .... Through the open door to the kitchen came the familiar household sounds: the rustle of the newspaper and the jingle of the snuffer- tray, as Uncle Joel drew but the little light-stand, and settled comfortably for the evening's reading; the brisk patter of Aunt Rhoda's feet--never hushed by sympathy with suffer- ing-bustling around the room, intent on her usual cares of "setting to rights " the disturbed elements of housewifery for the night; Dwight's heavy tread, as he tied on his com- foiter and searched fruitlessly for his missing hat, preparatory to a walk to" the village;" and Debby who, as she briskly washed the dishes, sang to their pleasant clatter a solemn accompaniment: "Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning Providence, He hides a smiling face." Divine words which have soothed many a sorrow! De- mis's eyes lighted with serene joy, as the solemn measure' rolled through the room. She put forth Jer hand and essay- ed to rise. I bent over and partially lifted her. "Why, when' did Natty come home, Ruby? He is here i" she whispered, exultantly; and fell back suddenly upon the pillow--the RUBINA. 4aY crimson life-tide surging in a torrent from her pale, parted lips. She looked in my face with beseeching eyes. I could not comprehend the glance, but as I held the napkins to her mouth I pointed to the door. "Should 1 summon the house- hold?"She feebly shbok her head. Then I flung my arms around her and buried my face by hers in the pillow. Oh, precious moments, wasting fast! life ebbing from our loved one's only strand; our remaining selves fast on the shores of vain regret and longing! In that fast embrace I sought still to bind her life to its earthly tenement. The vista of sepa- ration had seemed immeasurably removed before: this sud- den shortening of the distance was cruel, cruel; and the sobs, so long repressed for her. dear sake, burst forth loud, long, and vehement. ' The rest is borne in upon my mind like a lightning flash. It was so swift, so sudden-she turned her cheek to mine with a fond movement, and held forth her hand to Olive, who knelt sobbing by the bedside. Then Olive hastily r'ose and forced me away; for the hand had grown icy in her clasp. This, this was death. Olive stole gently to the kitchen and informed the family. A pause of several minutes followed; to me it seemed an age. Deborah then burst into a flood of tears, and set up an agonized moaning. Aunt Rhoda remained calm as marble, and began speaking at once of the necessary last sad preparations, which brought to my recollections, as if it were but yesterday, the scene of my early orphanage. She dis- patched poor Dwight-who stood rooted to the door with awe--for assistance. He came to me, and in a faint tremu- lous whisper, inquired " who he should get ",' "If you don't mind the long ride, I wish Miss Sinai would come," I answered; and he turned away, treading on tiptoe, page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] as if- to avoid waking the silent form, never, alas! to rouse from this dreamless slumber. Dear Uncle Joel was almost paralyzed. He had not realized how near the shadow had so long lingered: its descent found him unprepared. "Her life was brief," murmured Sinai, as we stood alone, late in that night-watch by the shrouded form. "She was young to die!" "Oh, dear, dear Sinai, it will kill me!"I sobbed and panted hopelessly. "Why can I not die too, and go with her? This life is so long;-so long to live without her '" "Be comforted, dear child," she rejoined, soothingly. "This life is brief at the longest. Ah-! Ruby, by such tender cords of looking and longing for our lost treasures, our Father seeks to draw us into the path of holy effort. You shall go to her--she will wait for you there-in His ownl good time. You, who were inseparable in your lives, shall not be divided in death. See how peacefully she slumbers, with the seal of the Divine covenant resting lightly on her brow." Standing face to face with a dying or dead friend, how vividly all their beliefs, maxims, advice, and tenderness- manifested in a thousand ways, and before unappreciated- crowd upon our consciousness! - They seem more individual- ized, as it were, by this approach to the Eternal: photo- graphing, in these few moments of intensity, their moral shape upon our memories, to remain with us forever. Now, Demises bright faith flashed into my comprehension, as some- thing altogether new; and as something strangely real, true, comforting. And, as if a similar intuition--too vague to be called a thought-entered into Miss Sinai's mind, she said- and with ear and mind tuned akin to this suddenly developed relation, her voice sounded like a musical echo of Demis's own--"Oh I my dearest Ruby, let us cease to mourn, and give joy; joy, that the life-struggle is brief, else would our footsteps falter, and the crown of thorns press too heavily, ofttimes, on our bleeding brows. One truth glows in the moral firmament with a quenchless fire. Not all the cold, dry dogmas which clumsily stalk earth's highways, can abate one whit its genial heat, or dim its eternal shine. "God is love!'" CHAPTER XXTX. THE: little white church, with, its quaint diamond-paned windows and square high-backed pews, was crowded with sympathizing friends and neighbors, the afternoon of the third day following; for Demis had been a universal favorite. All loved her frank cheery face and truthful ways, and all mourned her sincerely. Groups of young girls had filled the house, after hearing the sad tidings, bringing buds and flowers from cherished house-plants, to lay on the pulseless breast. Mark arrived from Chispa, almost broken-hearted that he had not been summoned before. Amanda, who came down to stay, broke out of her usual lethargy, and wept spasmodically, whenever a fresh band of neighbors arrived-calming into a resigned expression 'immediately after their departure. Annah, poor child, refused all com- fort: she would climb upon the bed, and wind her small arms around the cold form, while she poured forth the most heart-rending cries. She fretted herself quite ill, and on the day of the funeral looked so weak and pallid that I left her at home, Miss Sinai volunteering-to remain and keep her company. " o . page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] Ace- . -KgUBINA. I was surprised to see Elder Love in the pulpit; it was an unusual custom for the minister of, one denomination, to preach from the desk of another. Elder Fuller chose a seat below, after reading a beautiful Psalm from David. GMr. Love then rose, and solemnly announced, as his text, Psalm vii., 12. "If he turn not, He will whet His sword: he hath bent his bow, and made it ready." 'Strange, stern resolve slept in his eye, and twitched the muscles of his mouth, as he proceeded. He pictured, in emphatic lan- guage and terrific tones, the awful meaning lurking in these words. He held up before us the merciful long-suffering of the Judge of all the earth, and endeavored to define its limit; then, in graphic tones, the whetting of His anger and the extinction of its object. Then he applied this text to the " ase d. She had been unusually favored with counsel, with timely warnings of her dangerous course; but she gave them no heed. Instead, she had laughed and ex- ulted with thoughtless gayety on the very brink of death. The child of many prayers, she yet scorned prayer, and clung madly to the rotten plank of' good works for finding acceptance with her Saviour. Of the existence of faith- without which, we cannot be saved-she had no practical knowledge. She sat in the seat of the scorner, and walked in the ways of the ungodly. "My friends," he uttered, in a hoarse -whisper, " do you know her fate?"Not a soul stirred among the throng but Mark, who half rose, his face of ashen hite; but remembering himself, sank back again in his seat. "Do you know her fate? he impressively repeated, rolling those cold orbs above, as though he saw there, in terrible reality, her doom. "Much as I would like to say something consoling to this stricken group; much as I would like to pronounce a eulogy on the dead, yet, for the sake of the RIUBINA. 823 living- impenitent young, I must speak the truth. I do know- her fate. I see her knocking at the gates of the New Jerusalem, in vain, in vain! My friends, her virtues carry her there; she had many; you all loved her. These sobs, now convulsing you, alf attest that fact. Weep then for her freely; weep -for her sad end, for she has no passport with which to enter' the Father's mansions, and the angel at the gate admits no soul without one. You will ask, What then, is a passport to future bliss? I answer, to be baptized and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. There is none other. Nay, ere she can; even petition for entrance, the demons seize her, with shrieks of delight. Just like this,"--he low- ei'ed his eyes, and turned to the doors of entrance, on either side of the pulpit,-" one door is heaven; the other, hell. Slhe is at the'gate of heaven, but the infernal host are not to be baulked of their prey. One demon seizes her; the clutch is eternal; then another. She is surrounded by the satanic army, amid unavailing repentance and cries for help. My hearers, do you now ask where she is? I will tell you ;' -slowly and with emphasis-" there is no intermediate state between the abode of the saints in glory, and the regions of the lost. She disappears through the, other door, where, from the awful, unsounded depths arises weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, forever and forever! Oh! the agony, the fearful agony of 'the second death ' Souls that are immortal,' pause ere it be too late! Reflect, or a like doom awaits you!" There followed more, in the self-same style, I suppose, for of-it, I heard not one word. My eyeballs seemed flame; my mind in a helpless chaos of apathetic, revengefull fury. Had I possessed the requisite physical power, I believe I should have deliberately risen, walked up the narrow pulpit stairs, page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 ERUBINA. and with one blow hurled him from the sacred height, defiled by his presence. Then, smitten by this thought of inability, I looked round icily on the tear-stained pallid faces,- and for a moment hated them for their quiescence. Nev er before had I experienced in such dread intensity, the fell passions of eternal hatred and revenge; but they burned into my heart's core, there searing a ghastly wound, easy enough since to re- open. ', This, then," I bitterly reflected, while his unholy tirade went on triumphantly, " is your mean retaliation for her calms indifference to your proselyting zeal. A spiteful tincture of the pit you so strongly anathematize, could alone give it birth. Elder Fuller, though zealous for additions to the Church, could never feel it! Ah. sanctified clothing will not prevent Satan's claiming his own in due season." As the reading of the last hymn proceeded, a violent trembling of the seat roused me from my revery. I turned to look. Uncle Joel's face was crimson from suppressed emotion; but he grasped the seat firmly and restrained himself. Would you have the hymn? It was this: incredible as it may seem to your more Christian ears. With slow, deliberate earnestness he gave it out "Hymn 50. To the old proper tune. Pause the First: ', I am the Saviour I I, th' Almighty God I am the Judge! ye heavens proclaim abroad My just, eternal sentence, and declare Those awful truths that sinners dread to hear l' When God appears, all nature shall adore him I While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him. 'Stand forth thou bold blasphemer, and profane, Now feel my wrath, nor call my threatenings vain. Thou hypocrite I once dressed in saints' attire; I doom thee, painted hypocrite, to fire 1 * RUBIrSA. 325 Judgment proceeds: hell trembles I heaven rejoices l Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices. 'Behold my terrors now; my thunders roll, And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul I NIOw, like a lion stall my vengeance tear Thy bleeding heart, and no deliverer near.' Judgment concludes * hell trembles I -heaven rejoices I Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices." Profound silence followed. To the credit of the choir be it spoken, they unanimously refused to sing it. Demis had been the leading singer there for years; her sweet voice walking vibrations of harmony, which they caught and re- peated. Not one among them but was weeping for the vacant place, draped in crape. The viol leaned mournfully by the side of its bass fellow; their strings mute and indig- nant. Elder Fuller broke the pause-dreadful in its intensi- fied misery--by reading calmly a more appropriate hymn, and the services concluded by lowering the cold form into the colder earth. "Dear me,' exclaimed Miss Sinai, in dismay, as we re- eptered the shadowed dwelling, " what is the matter? You all look strangely." No one replied. Deb'orah beckoned her aside, and a low whispering succeeded, broken occasionally by angry inter- jectional phrases. In truth, we looked a stern band of mourners; not an eye closed in slumber that night in the old farm-house. Uncle Joel sobbed, and wrung his old withered hands nervously. "I never would a thought it," he said again and again; 1' I can't walk with such a church no longer." Strange to say, Aunt Rhoda alone m aintained its truth. 1 believe it," she said, firmly; "it's good orthodox doctrine. it's only because it comes hum so plain, that you don't lik9 page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] ouv , RU1BINA. it, Joel. If it had been one of .our neighbor's children now, yon know you'd a said nothin' agin' it." ' "Yes, I should, too," he rejoined, mildly; ,' common hn- manity'd set me agin' sech talk." Aunt Rhoda pursed up her mouth into a most decided expression, and shook her head slowly, to intimate that:she was not disposed to argue the point; but she should hold positively to her first opin- ions. "Wall," sobbed her softer-hearted husband, , I want to go where our children go, Rhody. I'shouldn't take a mite o' comfort singing praises onless they was all round me too. Should you, Rhody?" "' Yes,' she declared, unwaveringly; "I don't think 'twill make a bit of difference to our happiness. We shall overcome earthly feelings when we leave the body. I'm afraid, Mr. Martin," she added, severely, "you hain't experienced-the right kind o' religion after all, or else you're backslidin'. It's high time you'se up and workin' in the Lord's vin'yard, lest the enemy of unbelief git in and-spilethe good crops. I hope- these girls'll reflect on't too. It's a lesson to them," she added, turning to me. Mark paced the kitchen through the live-long night, never pausing to heed the fragments of controversy floating around. However, he heard this conjugal debate; and, as if his mind had suddenly decided a vexed question, with a look of relief anid angry scorn, he wheeled in front of his mother. "Is that your -belief, and ]the creed of your church? By heavens, I abjure it utterly! I wonder the judgments you are so fond of talking about don't fall and destroy such scandalous mockery!" he cried, passionately. "I tell you that I de- nounce it, and renounce it utterly. If there is a heaven and saints in it, my sister is there! Sweet soul! She never wronged a worm. I say with my father, I go with her hand RUBINA. . 327 in hand, wherever that may be. Now, hear my deliberate conclusion: for your sake, my mother, I have renounced my own wishes; suppressed every. rising inclination, and adopted your own. I would have labored cheerfully on that account for the conversion of souls, but you say this is the in- fernal doctrine I must preach, for I have sworn assent to it in the creed of the church. I tell you no?'"-here Debby inter- posed to stop him, but he roughly pushed her away, and re- sumed with gathering wrath : I renounce such assent forever. I renounce the ministry forever. I renounce home forever. I renounce your heaven forever and ever and ever." His mother grew pale as death. Never had I seen her so shaken. "What do you mean, sir?" she demanded, hoarsely. ("I mean, madam, that in a week from to-night I hope to be beyond the reach of these detestable influences. I hope to be my own master. I will not again change my mind," he said, firmly. "And Olive?"I timidly questioned. "My cousin," he answered, " she doubtless believes this in- fernal sermon It will break our engagement. I cannot help it. I shall be sorry, but there are things even worse than that," he cried, desperately. "Oh! is there no sanctity, no. rest for the dead, that they must be jostled so roughly? How many themes for warning discourses will this one affliction furnish to your ministers, mother?"He laughed hysterically, and resumed his walk. Aunt Rhoda leaned her head thought- fully on her hand and made no reply. Uncle Joel groaned heavily. Mark went up to him, looking almost penitent: "iI forgot you, father. Can you forgive me or disappoint- ing your hopes?" "My son; my well-beloved son. You're all leaving me," he whispered brokenly. " But, 'go thy way in peace.' It page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] "-" c, ltc U IVNA. would have rejoiced my old heart to have heard you preach- in' the word; but not such doctrine as that. No, no!" The succeeding day was irksome in the extreme. The dull hours crept lifelessly away, in our vain attempts to quicken their flight. Mark went up to Mr. Pierce's in the afternoon, and did not return until dark. Deborah went about her work much as usual, ever and anon' humming in a mournful tone, some chance fragment of a funeral hymn. As the early twilight of winter fell, I crept into the keeping- room-deserted now, and silent: the useless bed removed; the odor of medicine vanished. The room had been thoroughly fumigated that day; put into cleanly primness, and shut up, as though haunted. As I sat in the darkness, by the newly kindled fire, Mark entered. : Ah!" he said, gloomily dropping into a chair, "I thought I should find you here. You are not afraid of sitting in this dear room,; you don't shun it." "Well! and how fared your visit?"I tried to speak cheerfully. 0 He sighed. "Oh, just as I expected. I was received cordially enough at first," laughing sarcastically, " but the tune changed quickly, when I broached my change of pur- pose. So be it, Ruby. I have got over caring much for any thing." "I hope not, Mark But tell me about it. Did they up- braid you?" ' No. I was prepared for a pretty stormy scene, but not for cold indifference. Ruby, it cut me to the heart; then I got angry." We hate people for cutting us, albeit the thrust is unconsciously given. "I wanted to see Olive alone, but her mother vetoed that measure; I suppose she thought I should try. to make her run away with me. Well, it is all , 41 RUBINA. 329 ended. That crazy girl shook her fist in my face, and called me 'one of the ungodly,' and the rest, 'hoped I would do well.' Won't I, though?" he rejoined, enthusiastically, straightening his manly form, and tossing back the cluster- ing locks from his noble' forehead. The fare. always frank and truthful, looked the better for its new shade of sad, thoughtful serenity. "I love the sea," he murmured. "I have lain many a night, dreaming of its music. I like stories of sailors too, bluff and hearty; I tell you, Ruby, there is nothing like it." I shook my head. "I don't know. There are many things I should like better." "Oh!" he started, as if suddenly recollecting. "What are your plans for the future, Ruby? or have you none, as yet?" "e No plans, Mark; only crude cogitations, and, they may develop into nothing more. I wish I could leave North- field!"Spite of my effort, this burst forth fretfully. "( Where would you go, Ruby?" he said, in surprise. "Where . I don't know. The world is large enough. I must see before I can tell. Fate and I must have a hand-to- hand conflict. Why not begin 2"He did not understand me. How could he? I forced back the rising flood-was it destined to forever lie dormant?-with a keen sense of pain. At what? Why, I could never have told you, had sym- pathy's key been lacking in your hands. I felt; I did not reason. Then I managed to calmly returnqto the broken, theme. "When do you go, Mark?"I said. "I have sent in to the conference, at Chispa, a brief ac- count of my altered purposes, and I expect reply to-mor- row, probably a stern decree of banishment. Then I shall leave immediately." He did not receive the expected missive the next day; page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 33880 RUBINA. nor yet the next. On the morning of the third, he told me that it was all as he had predicted. ': I have no idea of stealing off without bidding you good- by," he said; " but it is better that my parents should not know; and Debby too. Poor soul! she would go frantic, and might break my good resolves. I shall go, this very night, to the next station, .and from there take the early stage for the East. I ,will knock, at your door before 1 start." I was a sound sleeper in those days, and I resolved to sit up. Ere midnight, his low rap sounded. I opened quickly. He entered, bent over and kissed Annah softly. it Dear little Annah! She looks pale, Ruby; take care of her." Brave heart,'that, in the -bitterness of the first real home-parting, found tender words of care for others-! He- talked on fast, to appease the treacherous desire to weSep, shown in the trembling mouth. "I wish, Ruby, you would see that inmy trunk is sent to this destination," handing me a slip of paper. "It is quite ready." "Yes, dear Mark. Is there nothing else?"How I wished that he would overwhelm me with orders! Memory, thus occupied, might let slip the coming pain. "No, I think not," he answered slowly. "You see I am cautious," he held up his boots. "I shall wait until I get outside, before-I put them on. Don't think of coming down with me; you might wake Debby." He dropped his bun- dle, opened his arms, and gathered me to his heart, sobbing, in a close embrace: "God bless, and forever keep you from all harm," he murmured, "for she loved you!" Sweet bene- diction, succeoeed by a kiss. - "Oh, Mark, is it right to go, after all? Stay with us; we shall be so lonely!"I pleaded. "It is harder to ego than I thought for, Ruby; but I will 4 RUBINA. 331 not change my resolve. Good-by." As if fearful of a longer tarry, he glided down the dark staircase. Bending over the. banisters, I saw him tread softly the creaking boards of the kitchen in his bootless feet; I heard the outer door softly unlatched, closed,--and out into the wintry mid- night went forth our wanderer. There was a storm of questions and reproaches, the next morning, when I told them of Mark's departure. Aunt Rhoda called him "' an ungrateful brat," declaring, that her children were turning out jest as she allers expected. She s'posed 'twas too strict to hum to suit." She was too angry to feel grieved, and tossed her head in scorn, at every mention of his name. Then Deborah, with quivering lips, took her up irefully, telling her decidedly, that "she had driven him away herself. She might blame her own blessed self for what had happened; no one else under the sun, would a talked as she did, that night; 'twas enough-to rile a saint's disposition, to set an' hear it. For her part, she thought 'twas a judgment on her." Aunt Rhoda responded bitterly, and an angry scene en- sued between the two. "I've borne with your insolence long enough," she said, with pale lips. "You'd make an underlin' of me in my own house; or, p'raps you think I ain't mistress. You're allers a talki' 'bout your children. I've said it now, and I mean it." "I'm sure I'm only too thankful to go," retorted Debby. "There's not much to stay for, and ev'ry thin's gittin' wuss and wuss. There's plenty that'd jump at the chance o' gittin' me to work for 'em. - Tod think a mother should have no more feelin' for her own flesh an' blood-" Debby broke short off, in piteous tears. "To think you should be , jealous of me too!" page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] - - 00^ RUBINA. Aunt Rhoda replied; but, in the middle of her harangue, 1 heran eek husband for once interposed: "I wish you'd stop. This ain't suitable talk for children to hear. Dwight, if you've finished your breakfast, you'd better go and see after the cows. Ruby, you'd better take Anny up stairs." I obeyed; but, as I crossed, the room, I heard him say, deci- sively, "Deb'rah ain't goin' away. Say no more 'bout that." What more was said I know not; but for a full hour the sound of mingled voices reached me; now sunk to a mur- muring key, anon raised in sharp, sudden tones of contra- diction. Mark's trunk was sent according to directions. Deb- by unstrapped it; privately hunting the house over for a key to fit its lock. Then she repaired to the neighbors; finally successful, she opened it, and after indulging in a hearty cry over the vision it revealed-a scant wardrobe and his books-she dexterously set to work, filling every vacant corner with cakes-crowding down and pressing together with her broad palms-so that, when her labor was fairly ended, the trunk's surface revealed a curious mosaic of clothes, books, cakes, and pastry. "There! that'll do his eyes good, I guess, when he sees it," she pronounced, in a tone of grati- fication. "He'll know who had a hand in it, right off; but won't he wonder how I got into it. I'll bet a copper he'll have a crying spell over it!" And, fairly overcome by this probability, she sat herself down with considerable effort on the floor beside it, and recommenced sobbing. "Don't you tell Mis' Martin 'bout this ere business, Ruby. She'd take my head off for'zi know; but Mr. Martin pro- vides, so I don't feel as if I's doin' anythin' out the way." She wiped her eyes, with a resigned expression of duty, and briskly shut down the lid. "Oh! Ruby," she began, dole- % a RUBMA. 883 fully, I haint no gift nor nothin' these days. I don't git cast down once in a dog's age, but somehow latterly--." She broke off, as a sudden thought crossed this train, to say, "I guess Jesse Warner's goin' to hire you this season to keep school ag'in. Miss Charity ain't rugged 'hough yit. What a sight o' trouble that fam'ly sees. If there ever was a saint on earth it's that Miss Siny. She's a proper hand when one's in trouble to make 'em feel contented. I b'lieve she'd say 'twas the Lord's will, and marvellous in our sight, if ev'ry friend she had should up and die, and the'house be burnt over her head, int'the bargain. I don' know but it's wicked, but I've often thought, what a good wife she'd a made for Job. 'Taint often two such patient souls git together." "I wish I could board with them," I remarked, thought- fully. "Who? Job and Siny?"-she shook with laughter- "Law, Ruby. I ain't a fool. Ii know what you meant, and I'll speak to Jess 'bout it. He said you could have a stiddy boardin' place. I heerd him." CHAPTER K XX . THERE are moments in our lives of dreary suspense; of uncertain ignorance of our future-a crisis, as it were- ready, yet reluctant, to break the hateful cords of monotony binding us to a seeming present necessity. I trudged home from Mr. Warner's one night, only to feel a vague sense of this, instead of the anticipated joyous welcome. Desolate looked the wintry landscape under the gray enveloping sky. page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] 3384 RUBNA, Greybaul towered stern and gloomy, in a thick shroud, above the low farm-house. No signs of life were visible;- not even a cat ran across the yard, or a discontented hen showed itself at the open barn-door; only a faint wreath of blue smoke exhaled from the mammoth chimneys, and a light in the kitchen, like a beacon star, guided me to its door. Yet it seemed cheerful, compared with the atmosphere'within. "Yes," said Debby, when we were alone together, "Anny can't stir but what it's: ' Make less noise, can't you? You're enough to craze a nation.' She's tied right down to work the whole livelong time-what for? massy only knows; I don't. Between you and me, Ruby, it seems as though Mis' Martin grew peakeder and peakeder ev'ry day. She can't put up with nothin'; and Anny breaks out a singin' 'fore she thinks. I can see- it don't set the best kind on her stomach. Then she'do-n't like stents over 'n above board (I don't blame her, nuther); and that puts y6ur aunt terrible out o' sorts, if you only knew it. 'Twas only -the other day she said to me, 'This comes of keeping folks from goin' to the poor- house.' I d'clare for't that riled me; I flared right up then. 'How'd you like to have your'n treated so?' si; 'mabbe they will be some day. You can't expect to live fo'ever!' It was sarcy, I knew ; but how could I help it, I'd like to know? If she don't haul in her horns, I'll light on her again." "No, Debby," I said, rather bitterly, "she shalt not have occasion to say so much longer."' "Wall, I won't stan' by and see her 'bused. She never whips her when Mr. Martin's round; I know the reason too'; she can't pull wool over my eyes," declared Debby. C"I don' know as she means it r'ally. She'll put some salve on, when it's likely to be a witness aginst her-that salve though's as hard as Pharo's heart; jest about-she allers was a 'mazin' -RUBINA. 885 hand to whip aln' pound: for my part, I don't b'lleve in't. Wall, then, she won't let her sleep with me; she'll make her go off in the dark, for fear she'll set the house afire if she has a candle. I don' know how she's the heart to do it. I couldn't, if I hated a body the wust way." Sleep did not visit my eyelids that night. I zealously fed anger by pondering these unexpected events-trying to bring to light the hidden remedy. Vain effort! The path before me looked shorter and narrower than ever. - felt that I must quickly traverse it; but my eager glance saw no way- side outlet to highways beyond: only the same dead mono- tony, bounded by impenetrable thickets which I might not hope to scale. I look back now to those restless plans, pro- ductive of naught but chill discomfort, with a vague feeling of pity for the ignorance which entailed them. For it is not. amid the tumult of conflicting passions that the mind wakes to clear life, and sliapes its course of action; only the dregs of ambition are stirred thereby, and the muddy waters must. settle calmly, ere Reason, stern and pale, can effectively counsel. It was evident that my aunt's injudicious harshness was producing the result of a nervous derangement in the child, that in after'years might be difficult to check. She did not consider that sending her solitary to bed, in a cold silent room, from which death had so recently snatched one occu- pant, while it would not in the least affect her own nerves, might affect Annah's more sensitive ones fatally. I think my aunt's bereavements, following each other so suddenly, had rendered her naturally harsh nature morose. Perhaps she grudged that the two orphans should be spared, and her own offspring taken. I did not wonder at it. 'I had, I trust, sufficient charity for the doer, while condemning the deed page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 836 RUBINA. itself. Sturdily vindictive I assuredly was; but only to per- sistent, ungenerous unkindness. The two graves in the churchyard grew green in the sum- mer showers. I planted wild roses around them, and studded their tops with violets. In the long dreamy afternoons, it was a sad pleasure to visit them; clearing away the rank mullein and dandelions which perseveringly threatened usur- pation. Uncle Joel often followed, and watched my work in silence. Dear loving old man! If I sought his face with a questioning glance, he smiled approvingly, and turned away. His staff had worn a series of indentations in the soil round them, for his visits were daily. Aunt Rhoda never accompanied him. It was her custom to stop there, on her way home from Sunday services, for a brief inspection. Her meditations amid these crumbling relics of mortality were characteristic. She wandered carelessly among the narrow grassy paths, taking a critical survey of each tenement-audi- bly recalling incidents in the lives of the deceased incum- bents, not always of the most appropriate nature for discus- sion. "I allers told' Joel," she was accustomed to. say; "that, if I should go first, I was perfectly willin' he should marry agin'; only I want he should wait long enough to be decent. I want my shoes to have a chance to cool 'fore an- other woman steps into 'em. He allers declares, right up an' down, he never'd marry ag'in; but, law me! he would. They all act like possessed, and make perfect fools o'them- selves over ev'ry young gal that comes along, I allers said, if I had my life to live over ag'in, I'd marry a widower; they know how to 'preciate a wife after they've lost one." This summer's placidity was broken by a visit from Mr. Hume. I felt no desire to see him. Deep down in my heart rankled unforgiving bitterness; for I could not forget RUBINA. $37 that but for him my cousin Demis might have been flitting, blithe and merry as of old, around the old homestead. And why could he not have returned her pure affection?-won too openly for his own vindication. "Man's love," thought I, bitterly, " is but a caprice; retained best by repulses, coyness, distrust-often by positive dislike. It likes shady nooks and cold surfaces, and treats with unappreciative disdain rich, fertile prairies of feeling; the sunny, open giade, where grow spontaneous clusters of the fairest flowers. Well," I thought, as I stealthily surveyed him, "I want none of your love. I feel no thrillof tenderness for you. Even your virtues de- preciate, in my sight, below redemption. Your defects stand forth more prominently than of old: that creeping smile has hardened to a sneer; its benevolent life warped into surface coldness. The longer I gaze, the more it seems as if I knew you not. Some friendly film has dropped from my eyes, rendering their vision keener. Distrust-the guar- dian-angel of the inexperienced-has uncovered her talons, and planted one in my heart." He remained several days in Northfield, meeting warm greetings in the farm-house; hut they could not feel as I did, because they were ignorant of what I knew. Debby, it is true, sometimes hinted of her foresight, evidently de- siring to enlarge at length, and, if possible, draw from me confirmation of her suspicions. She reported significant dreams and marvellous signs; but I steadfastly discouraged such disclosures, shortened such conversations, and faith- fully kept my dead cousih's secret. I avoided meeting- Mr. Hume alone, and on all occasions, treated him with coldness; if it piqued him, he discovered no evidence there. of in his manner. / One day-a bright, cool afternoon-he came down sud. 15 page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] RUBINA m denly, with an urgent request for a walk. I gave him a curt negative. "Sartain," cut in Debby, quickly, " you can go as well's not, Ruby. There ain't no chores to do up, butto mend the stockin's, and them I allers do myself. I allers darn with a double thread, but Mis' Martin don't; I can beat her a darnin', any day." I repeated my answer; he turned away, looking cut to the heart. "Very good," I thought, grimly surveying his crimsoned visage; "that don't suit, does it, my master? You gave poor Demis many such thrusts; now I intend to return them with interest." As he turned away silently, a flash of repentance smote me, almost retracting the uncivil words and the bitter after-thoughts: I suppressed it speedily. My conscience, however, once pricked with remorse, would not let me rest. I could not help thinking that Demis would not thus have acted. Could her pure spirit look from celes- tial heights, and penetrate the earthly vapor enveloping my soul, she would be immeasurably grieved at my perversity. Surely, the civil request merited equal civility; a walk would not have harmed me, much as I despised him. The thought, once started, pressed harder over the ground, and fairly ran down my unusual haughtiness. After trying in vain to sew calmly, Igave it up, and tried reading, with no better suc- cess. My own reflections crowded on the page thick and fast; very confused and hideous looked their ranks as I sur; veyed them, and, captain over the throng, brooded sullen re- venge.. I could not absolutely detest him: the past was too rich in reminiscences for that; but I flattered myself that I had arrived at the climax of contempt, which breeds hate readily enough. The book, too, was one he had brought me-long. coveted, but the donor hardly thanked for making the desire a possession. I turned the leaves slowly, passing, I suppose, an hour or two in this employment; -then I closed the book, and leaning my elbow on the window-sill, and my head on my hand, I listened willingly to the still small voice of repentance. The surroundings were favorable for such re- flection. I was alone. Aunt Rhoda had taken her knitting and departed for an afternoon visit. Annah had early peti- tioned to be permitted to "go and see Olive." Debby had taken her basket of yarns and the pile of mutilated hose, out on the piazza, where, as she slowly passed the long needle in and out of the huge rents, she sang to herself in a dreamy monotone. Occasionally she paused to remove her specta- cles and wipe their dimmed glasses, as some sad recollection surged up with the mournful cadence and moistened her eyes. It was too dreary to be longer borne. Strong in my desire to do justice where I had deeply wounded-ah, reader, reluctant, after all, to admit one tenderer plea-I started, and, seizing my sun-bonnet, walked slowly to the gate. Debby ceased her humming, and gazed after me with a ques- tioning glance. I opened, went out, and shut it deliberately, pausing a moment in fastening down the latch, to ask my- self if it were best to retreat erb a single battle had been fought. I fialf opened it again, to re-enter the house; but, glancing up, I caught Debby's look of intense curiosity--she had stolen to the front windows, to watch my proceedings-- aid I resolutely turned, walking with a rapid step to the vil- lage. I entered the humble gateway of the churchyard. As I expected, Mr. Hume was standing, with uncovered head, by a well-known grave. My dress rustled over the long grass. He turned quickly. "Ah, Ruby," he exclaimed, sorrowfully, "you scorn my-very presence; you utterly despise me; but is love so cheap, that you can thus recklessly fling it to the page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] 340 RUBINA. winds? At least, be a just judge before you pronounce sen- tence. Hear me!" Strange place for such a declaration. I can no more re- member what next he said, than I can recall the events of the first unimpressive year of my life. The comparison is ill-chosen: the very rush of the wordy torrent smote memory into helplessness. I have a dim idea of a succeeding stormy burst of passion, reeking with vehement- protestations, emn- treaties, and pleadings, as he knelt in the rank grave foliage, and with- trembling eagerness sought my hand. His look, more than his words, rolled in upon my questioning con- sciousness, bringing in its wake a long train of assents. The mist was clearing from my heart: its motives, so long flat- tered into a belief of their generous self-sacrifice, looked more terrestrial. I looked eagerly inward during that brief space, only to behold, with a volition not of my approval, his image firmly stamping itself there. Love came to me, not a mere feeble child to be fostered into ardent maturity; he sprang, vigorous and of full stature, at once to his throne in my heart. Thus, though I battled bravely against one spark of truant tenderness, thinking it a wrong to the sleeper at our feet, I could not resist the flood from rolling over the thirsty desert. It carried with it all sign of opposition,'but under its waves distrust still lingered. Then I heard his voice stealing in upon returning attention, softly, like a dream of music saying, "Let us court happiness while yet we may, Let us be all the world to each other," and my heart silently answered, "Oh! if I could efface the memory of wrong, love would be so easy."' Borne down I was by his strong as- severationb, but not convinced. "Life is but shortathest; and who can tell what dark clouds may linger over our future horizon?" again I heard him saying. RUBINA. 341 What ill-omened words were these, after such a confession? What mystery was this man, who one moment woke respon- sive echoes to his own wild pleading-almost a murmur of assent-the next, as vith a sudden after-thought, frowned back to the farther shores the full-freighted, coming wave? I was mortified to perceive the incongruity between this speech and the preceding; the truly selfish reason for in- dulging in happiness-fragile thing-to be shattered by a wave of adversity. I thrust back the skeptical thought defiantly. "Why seek for dark probabilities, when bright ones are just as cheap, and far more agreeable?" He smiled indul- gently; and I felt a damp cloud settling gradually over my springing hopefulness. We walked around to the church steps and sat down. Then followed long consultations-all on his part; I was only expected to quietly accede--in the gathering evening shadows. The scene rises before me now like a once seen, dimly remembered picture. The glimmering walls of the church for a backgrourid; before, and at the sides, the serried ranks of the dead, with their ghastly tablets; while far, far above, rose a deep blue vault, hung, here and there, with a stray evening lamp, the faint disc of a crescent moon illuming its centre. Life seemed to eddy away farther and farther, in the solemn stillness; and all talk of material hopes, fears, happiness, sheer impracticability, mere idle tattle. Old mother Nature is a grand confidante. Into her sympathizing ears are poured, what wondrous secrets! She listens in silence, hiding them deep down in her inmost Ileart. But think her not neglectful of responses. She twinkles approval or doubtfulness from the stars. She sends warning messages in the breezes; and for the sorrowing, sle infuses the oil of, consolation by her mere presence. , . page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 342 - RlUBnA. For every unveiling of your heart, she returns an answer, hidden from you only by your own dullness. I felt, and was soothed by this strange confidential charm, as I sat there, mechanically making the desired responses. The school- master seemed unconscious that I had given him no promise. Very confident his tone; very emphatic his phrases. "Where will you be when I come for you? In the peace- ful seclusion of these grand old mountains, I hope. I shall see you in imagination, flitting among your old haunts, going soberly to church, and fulfilling your duty in every righteous way." I laughed involuntarily. "A pleasant little pictuire; but I do not mean to live up to it. . I am going somewhere" --my ideas were vague, you see, reader-anywhere. He stared in surprise: then he began to protest vehemently. ', It was madness, folly, to abandon home. What did I expect to do in the world? What special vocation had I? My duty clearly lay among my uncle's family. I must abandon it at once. My schemes were wild." Exhibition of will in another, always roused mine. I lost my passiveness. "I do not agree with you," I said coolly. "Mark said the same thing, but he failed to convince me." "What a pity," said Mr. Hume, ( that your cousin aban- doned his noble calling, for a vagrant's life on the wide waste of waters. I was astounded when the news reached me." Again the old feeling of repulsion crossed me, as the schoolmaster pronounced these words in a tone of cold, hard disapproval. The wild excitement of the scene amid those same church walls rushed vividly over me. I drew a little. away from him as I answered. "I could ,not blame him. I would have done the same. I should have despised him if he had thought it just. Even at the mere recollection, RIUBriA. 3438 my carefully cultivated amiability vanishes like- a sprite of air. I cannot yet; I never shall be able to treat the minis- ters civilly." "That is all wrong," said he coldly, and I drew quite away from him as he, said it: he noticed it, and smiled ironically. "I heard all about it. It was indeed awful, but I must admit its justice," he added, looking away towards the western horizon. "Then do you say amen to such a heathenish code 8"I cried in dismay. "I believe we cannot limit the Divine forgiveness; neither his avenging justice. Of their conflicts, and the final sentence, . we must be content to draw our knowledge from revelation. It is terrible to the wicked-sublime to the good." I rose abruptly. "Where are you going, Ruby?" said he. "Anywhere. I can sit here no longer. Down these steps they carried her, out to that narrow home, religiously fancy- ing they had consigned her to eternal torment.' Oh!"I said more softly,.a's I stooped over the blooming mound. "Hers was such a beautiful faith! Demis, dear Demis t1 I uttered, as if she could hear me. "I receive it into my heart, my life; H believe with you, that for all of earth's desolate ones there is at last a rest, a hope, an immortal soul-life, pure, beautiful and true, from which all earthiness is forever purged, and which rises and expands progressively, until at last it shall bloom in divine beauty." It might have beeni fancy; it .might have been the rustling assent' of the wind-swept foliage near me; but I thought a presence, a living form, drew to my side in close communion, spirit with spirit, passed swiftly by, and floated away on the returning breeze. I listened intently, as if for the sound of retreating footsteps. . I glainced upward at the stars,.now thickly stud- page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] " 3 44 RrUBINA. ding the dark-blue arch; they seemed imbued with a holier radiance; they seemed tranquilly smiling with a tenderer light. The schoolmaster broke the spell. "You are sadly heterodox," said he, smiling, in spite of his efforts to look grave: " an obstinate little piece of humanity, as ever I had to deal with. How you do retain an'idea, when once thoroughly imbibed!" "It will prove so in my love for you," I said thoughtfully. . "So beware how you foster it, unless you care for it!" "I do care for it," he returned seriously. "I mean to be a faithful gardener; I mean to prune sorely at times, but only for our mutual good. I may as well tell you that I intend to make your newly expressed religious views conform to mine.- Ah!"-and he patted my head forbearingly--" you will be as orthodox a minister's wife as I can possibly desire." "Humph!" was my sole reply. He looked annoyed, and dropped my hand. "'I hardly know whether you love me or not," said he, after a pause. "You won't bear with me one whit." 'No, indeed," I cried quickly. "Why should I, pray? Better wait, ere you attempt any renovations, for the period when your slightest wish becomes my law, after the praise- worthy fashion of story-books. I don't anticipate such a masculine millennium. Women are fools to sink their indi- viduality, and become weak, soulless pieces of mechanism, merely because their self-styled lord and master disapproves of this expression, or prefers that they should entertain that opinion; looking up to him on all occasions as their em- bodied source of inspiration. I tell you they know as much as their masters, if they choose to think so." "I suppose you intend to think so, at all events, and set RUBINA. 4 the poor misguided sisterhood an example," he returned, sar- castically. ,Yes- I have a mind of my own, and I will use it. I have opinions of my own, and I shall not borrow yours Out of the future I will shape a destiny, which, if not brilliant or famous, will yet suit-my inborn originality. I can never be your echo. If you want some one to surfeit you with flat- tery and laud you to the skies to others, go seek her else- where. T am my own mistress.' ," Fool!" he ejaculated wrathfully. 4"I will go,'-' and his lips grew white with anger; " but," he added, turning away with a laugh, short and spiteful, "you will then be running after me. I will make you love me yet, Ruby Brooks, and then we will see." ' See what?"I said abruptly, and half angrily. "See what becomes of that declaration of independence. All women are remarkably self-sustained until they really love"--he threw me an insulting laugh. A long silence fol- lowed. " 4Y^ou and I will never suit, my master; I always felt and knew it," thought I bitterly-all-the more bitterly for suffer- in the advent of a few precious moments of happy hope. ,;Each fountain may gush profusely, yet their waters will never minole." Aloud, I felt impelled to say: "I love the qualities embodied in manhood, Mr. Hume, not the man- himself. If vou showed forth great courage, I should love the courage, and you, simply because you represented it." "Your idea, Ruby, is silly and weak. Your notions are too vague ever to develop themselves into substance." My mentor, as he said this, glanced down with very proper sorn, as if firom an immeasurably superior elevation. "Let us go home," I said, coldly, at the same time turning away. 15* page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 346 RUBINtA "Very well," was his brief rejoinder; " and tell me, if you please, as we go, about your dreams of this wonderful des- tiny of yours." I smiled disdainfully. "It is swathed as yet in swaddling- clothes; but I dare attempt to lift it from a visionary' in- fancy, to a bright realizing maturity." "But how?" he questioned. "Your ideas are so vague. One never can understand you." "It is not necessary that one should," I replied, per- versely. "I understand myself, and that is .sufficient." "I suppose so," he said, with another laugh; and he crossed the road, walking on alone. He was angry, but I did not care. An hour since I had almost loved him. Fond words and caresses had passed between us as he bent over me with tenderness, and talked of our future. Now, it seem- ed as though it had never been. In its room came back the recent dislike and distrust. I watched him scornfully, as he strode on with angry unconcern, and I gradually slackened my pace, and fell behind. At the foot of the hill he stopped, as if struck with a sudden thought, and looked around. I came on still more leisurely. He chose to seat himself on a log by the roadside aniid wait for me: his face wore a look of ex- perimenritive raillery. "Suppose you preach instead of me, Miss Ruby!"-a little while since it had been dear Ruby, and darling-- You claim such equal rights. I assure you I shall be charmed to be one of your listeners. , What will you advocate . You must have a platform of some kind." "Yes, I would. The platform of help to world-weary, suf- fering humanity." His smile stung me. I felt bound to retort in some man- ner, but severe words failed me. Instead, he, poor miser- -RBTNA. -847 able stripling, sitting on the blackened log and smiling so superciliously in my face-faded. The road, a winding, prostrate column of dust, vanished. I was again in the churchyard, kneeling among the grassy ridges; and the coming years stretched out before me. I was not dismayed at the revelation. I shouldered my pack, and traversed them. I felt solitary, but not disheartened; weary, but I sat not down to rest. Sloth lurked under the thickets by the way- side; but I pointed my finger in scorn, and it disappeared. I fainted often under grievous burdens, but my failing strength as constantly renewed itself. Illusions faded as I advanced, and stern reality showed me its bitterness, its gloom. Then, when the end had been reached-the end of youth-and I saw still the same unvarying road before me; felt the load still clinging to my back-felt my feet falter, and my tongue grow parched with unquenched thirst, I cried, almost :despairingly: "Let it come! let it come quickly. Since it must be so, let me drain the very dregs. In them assuredly lies strength." Oh! a fairy-land is the future to the novice. Fair skies and soft breezes fan the still perfumed air into choruses of song. Fools! The aged pilgrim will tell you that it is but the sirocco's dreadful breath; a deadly whirlwind sweeping over each cherished hope, and crushing them to atoms. The promises shine golden in the west: ripe, tempting from the green boughs, hangs the cooling fruit with which we hope to slake our fevered lips. The fruit, when plucked and eaten, turns to ashes in our mouths, choking down :com- plaint. "Ok!" exclaim we, " for a stronger arm, and .faster feet, that we may reach the goal the sooner; where sweeter possibilities cluster;" and onward, more and more, eagerly, we plunge as it recedes from view, or glows'fainter -through i ' . - . *O v page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] 348 RUBINA. the mists of dimmed eyes (for, alas! our eyes do grow dim with sorrow, age, and much weary, lonely weeping. Hope. less griefs, unredressed miseries, fruitless watchings and wait. ings for deserting blessings and alienating friends, each draw a pall over them, and death adds the last with the bier); and so; blind are we that we heed not the real truth, that though our sorrowful pilgrimages apparently estrange us from the happy country, they are in reality but the stepping-stones tohasten ourprogress thither. "Yes!"Iadded, triumphantly, "it is all right after all. It is best that illusions should die, having served their purpose. We cannot grasp heaven with a wish, however fervent; but, like all earthly good, it must be toiled for. In doubt, darkness, through this weary lapse of time; with groanings that cannot be uttered; with tears wrung from slowly oozing life-forces; with wasting form and ' feature; with spiritual eagerness, which cannot, will not. take denial; with faith the most exalted, love and hope the most humble and ardent. The soul thus purified shall attain it, and its pack roll after poor ' Christian's' pack-to be seen no more forever." I stopped abruptly, and found myself flushed and trembling before the schoolmaster. He looked astonished first; then he smiled ironically. '-Not quite a sermon yet; but pretty well for a beginner- only your hearers may not all like such a flowery burst of eloquence. Try again, Mistress Ruby. You will soon be able to preach for even me." "Yes, I will preach to you, Mr. Hume. Every soul is created a preacher, sneer as you will at so democratic an idea. You ministers are would-be aristocrats in heaven's courts; you would hem tyourselves in-a class by no means to be approached, save with full, lnquestioning acceptance of any doctrine you choose to promulgateo I don't like to see . RUBInUA. 849 God's truth--eternal, infinite truth, so glorious in its severe simplicity-obscured; its white disc even temporarily sullied by the merest speck of manhood claiming to be its representa- tive; cradling the pure image in his own shallow nature, only to turn it forth to the world as--a lie." "But why can you not, Miss S elf-confidence, be equally deluded-be equally the champion of falsehood?" asked the schoolmaster, his eyes ablaze with angry glare. "I? Because I honor truth' too highly. Because my occupation would not be gone if I dared to- proclaim from the house-tops what you ministers-falsely so called-hide under a bushel. Ah! vainly. The light will glow, and stray gleams will penetrate its living prison, and weary, hun- gry souls will some time bathe in its full effulgence, radiant in a newly-born humanity." "So the poor minister's office is a sinecure in your estima- tion; to be done away with from earth. What shall I do?" in a mocking tone of inquiry. "Better break stones on the highway, say I, with a noble soul, than to blindly attempt to guide the blind into ignoble ditches." A scorniful laugh answered me. lUndaunted,I continued: "Strike the broad surface of truth upon the anvil of calm, intelligent reason, and listen to its resonant ring. Ap- proach a finger to its sharp edge, and no wonder you shrink back wounded. Nature deals not in evasions-she mates not with hypocrisy. Face, her honestly, and you gain a noble answer, a mighty helper, a generous friend." ' Indeed?" slowly, and with bitter emphasis. "You are angry with me, Mr. Hume, but remember it was you who provoked retort. I cannot clip the wings of a truth, because it flies straight home from my lips to your heart." * page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] 8i0 , RUXBINA. "4Truth! You do not even perceive truth, Miss Brooks," he sneered. "-Oh!" exclaimed I, passionately, "we may as well part. now, and forever. I do not love you. I wonder I ever did." "Nay!" he broke in, triumphantly, "I shall hold you to your promise. You need not begin to deny it; a tacit prom- ise is as binding as any. And we need not quarrel if you would but be more placable; if you would but hear to me; trust me. Can you not trust me, dear Ruby?"' Again his coldness melted, and he bent over me, all fire and tenderness. I felt the charm, the magnetism of his slightest caress. I felt contrition for what I had said. I almqst yielded to the strange attraction which his mere presence had for me. Will again slumbered. Reason retired. Only caution, of all faculties the most prominent, remained to guard her rightful heritage. "No!" said I, gently, "I cannot trust you utterly. I do-not appreciate coldness, raillery, sarcasm. Why do you not hear to me-trust me? It is a poor rule, you know, Mr. Hume, that won't work both ways." I surveyed him calmly. "You are such a strange girl!" he said, in surprise. ' But you will have to submit at last; it is woman's destiny." "Submit!"I echoed. ("For shame, sir! It is an insult to speak so to me. I will never marry you. I annihilate my promise, if any such existed." You cannot," he replied. "God and-the angels wit- nessed it; and it is not so easily annulled. But here we are at the gate, and we will finish our talk in the house, for to- morrow I must leave Northfield." He placed his hand on the latch; but I removed it. "No! you need not go in," I said, coldly. -"We have no more to say. I can here bid you farewell, atnd all prosperity." His late anger appeared vanished; he looked at me long RUBINA. ' 5" and seriously --like an indulgent parent, pitying, yet de- spondent of a cure for perversity. "Does such conduct -make you happy?" he at length aslked. "I don't know. I can't quite determine, Mr. Hume. Sometimes I wouldn't give a copper coin for my whole life- past, present, or future; then, again, I feel like singing Glo- ria in Excelsis over it. I am so blissfully contented, that common cares, common griefs, move me not a grain. I swing high above-them all, and rock myself to sleep with my own imaginings; YTou couldn't call me miserable then. If you did I would laugh in your face, and bid you, you old prosaic growler, try to attain to the same elevation." "Those moods don't last long," said he,-confidently. "Nay, there is their greatest charm. They are only the natural reaction of as many hours of misery; 'the inevitable balancing of Nature, to keep our moral and mental well being nicely poised." "What strange talk!" he exclaimed; "what strange 'phrases you use! Which state are you in at present?" -He eyed me curiously. Again the unwelcome conviction would recross my mind, would resume its accustomed arguments, that his sudden, ardent passion was a myth. That he was merely revelling in his former habits of artful experimenting with human hearts; carefully testing each chord, to wake its accordant or discord- ant chime for his own selfish pleasure. I replied, demurely: "If I should tell you, you would gain little credit for dis- cernment. You might make that out for yourself, sir, -I should think." "I'll be blamed if I can make you, or any thing you do or say, out,"-, he half growled. Lifting his eyes, he caught page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] 852 RUBINA. my mocking smile, I suppose, for his swarthy cheeks flushed deeply red. "Are you a devil or an angel, madam?" he asked, with a ridiculously earnest air; " for the life of me I cannot tell." ' I begin to suspect, Mr. Hume, that I have a composition. of both specifics ready and willing to be used." "Specifics -for what?" Ite clutched irritably at the nearest rose-bush; starting back the next instant, as the tiny thorns struck into the quivering flesh. "Sweet oil is a specific for that piece of hardihood," I suggested, holding out my hand for the suffering member. Half-doubtfully he gave it. - ' One moment,' said he, eyeing me, "you are as cold as an iceberg; the next, fiery as Vesuvius. Every gesture is scornful contempt;- every word is scorching lava. I cannot come anywhere near you. Then, when I don't ask, don't look for kindlier favors, lo! you show a sweeter, sunnier side, and there in a shady nook stands my angel, smiling and beckoning me on to happiness." He uttered this in a dreamy tone of soliloquy--then, a little louder: "Are- our , quarrels forever past, Ruby?" * Why did not some. spirit whisper away the impulse which seized me? I was happy, but I would not show it; I felt very gently disposed towards him, but I twisted it awry with a glance at the previous hour. I think it was the recollec- tion of those bitter words, and the shadow of a sneer still hovering round the mouth-not to be utterly routed by more genial feelings-which prompted me to answer coldly: "They are but just begun, sir." -He suddenly released me. "Perhaps it is better as it is," he coolly mused-a moment since he would submit to- no repulse---"I shall not blame myself if I leave you, never to RUBINA. 3.53 return again. You have brought it on yourself," was his in- different soliloquy. "Oh!"I cried, from the depths of my heart, " you might have made me what you would, but not by tyranny. It would have been a pleasure to crucify any plan or pleasure interfering with your will, but you throw me scorn, and expect me to greedily swallow it." He steadfastly persisted in misinterpreting my words. "Remember what I tell you, Ruby Brooks; when too late' you will regret your course. You must give up your will to be any thing to me: I shall reign in no divided heart. And what does it matter to you? a woman; incapable-whether you will own it or not-of guiding yourself or others. Now think, and choose not hastily. I shall come to-morrow for your answer." "I have chosen now, sir." "No: you are angry now. -I do not release you from your promise in any case. It is only to absolve myself from blame in your eyes, if-as is not unlikely-you should ever feel disposed to blame me." . ' "Do you mean to say, Mr. Hume, that you hold me to my promise-so called-and consider yourself at liberty to discard your own 8" "Why, yes. Though I do not look at it so," he answered. "In my case I am incapable of bKeaking mine ; but, for you, I require some security." Cool insult, not to be tamely borne. Unmanly way of extrication from a sorely-repented-of proposal. I read his motive well. To test it further I said no more, but bade him a quiet good-night, and went in. It was as I thought. He did not come down "for my answer"-final as fate-but early the next day left Northfield. ^' page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] '354 RUBINA. Was I sorry. Did Ifeel humiliated by the intentional slight? I hardly can tell.' When one's whole life Is a spasm of pain, one scarcely notes and analyzes each individual pang. CHAPTER XXXt. ERE autumn set in I dispatched a letter to my Uncle Lucas, briefly reminding him of his kindly offer, and as briefly intimating-I did not like the task--my readiness to avail myself of his offer to Annah. It is well, perhaps, that we have to subdue pride occasionally, else it would run over and smother all gentler feelings.- It cost me several weeks of thoughtful revolvings as to other practicable plans, and a few sleepless nights-those few lines to my uncle-but write and send them I did at last; and urged, in a postscript, an imlediate answer. Not that there was any need of haste in going, but I dreaded being impaled on the thorn of suspense longer than was absolutely necessary.' I also hinted in my let- ter that for myself I asked nothing: I should look out for work to do immediately--that he might not think his foolhardy invitation had turned on him two burdens. I felt constrained to make some change, and I resolved that it should be a move forward. Several reasons prompted this. I felt, at times, that in some sort my aunt-considered us a grievous burden. She discussed the tfamily prospects with so gloomy a countenance, and prophesied--that last dreadful calamity to a thrifty New Englander-a speedy approach to the poor-house. I thought, too-'it may have been a mistake--that she repented taking us from that, our inevitable home, had we been left on charity, and she grew into a habit of dropping. significant phrases into Annah's ears; she, of course, repeated them to me, as our RUBINA 855 aunt intended. If "she skipped round the foom in the exuber- ance of youthful gayety, or warbled a cheerful strain, Aunt Rhoda seldom failed to bring her soberly down to silence, by hoping " she wasn't gittin' to feel above-board," or wonder- ing " how she had the, heart to, when there'd been a death in the family." Often I heard these cold, curt observations. The scant wages earned by teaching were not quite sufficient to clothe us, though we had nothing but the barest necessa- ries. If Uncle Joel purchased any thing, however trifling, Aunt Rhoda's mouth pursed up into a still mare forbidding expression than it -ordinarily wore; and she never failed to leave the impression that she must do withoutin conse- quence. My services at home, of the most laborious nature, she counted as nothing-in no way an equivalent for the food we consumed. I was not surprised at this. She was so habit- uated to unceasing work, that she could not fully appreciate another's labor. Work was the element she lived in, delighted in: she judged all by the same standard. Then the charm of the old life was gone for me. Sweet had been the long summer days, when Demis shared my tasks; the busy morn- ing hours; the calm afternoons of sisterly communion. Now in every room lurked memories, saddened by the thought perpetually haunting me, they are no more; they are gone forever. Something unceasingly whispered to me, saying: '"You are eighteen; old enough to judge for yourself. Go out into the world; not hive yourself 'in grudged precincts any longer. 'Shake off lethargic dependence, and enroll your name with other;workers." An answer came from Uncle John in due season, cordially approving of my resolve. "The sooner I came the better, as the fall term opened in a fortnight."' He added, also, a kind page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] - 836t6 B :RUBIN A. message from Millicent---self-suggestive, I afterwards found. Nothing remained to be done but to announce my speedy departure to the family. I am sure Uncle Joel really grieved over the news. When away from his wife's sharp eyes, sharper ears, and sharpest tongue, he gave expression to this regret in his own - quaint language, with tears in his dark, soft eves. Debby, too, frequently interrupted herself in some heavy household labor to declare, with a despondent droop of the piteous eyes, that she felt " ruther down at the heel 'bout our goin'. I -don' know what's got into me, Ruby, but I haint no faculty to work ;" and the tears would start afresh as she mournfully looked up at me. "All you'll git out o' Har'ner Lucas,"' said she, with emphasisi " you can put in a chippin'- bird's eye, and not put it out. A closer critter never drew the breath of life. She's as tight as the bark to a tree." - She seemed to consider it foolish in the extreme, and one day, after a profound cogitation over the ironing-table, she lifted her head and remarked to Aunt Rhoda: "Young folks are desp'rate flighty now-days; don't know when they're well off; t'want so in my day. And I should think you might reason her out o' her projicts, Mis' Martin. -You can carry through most any thin' you undertake, you know; but law sakes alive! she won't hear to me one grain. I'm nothin' but a passenger." No perceptible effect followed this bit of flattery, and she once more bent in disappointed energy over her- work. I was glad Aunt. Rhoda said nothing; I was spared the pain of hearing myself announced as " in the way," for she was no hypocrite to dissemble: if she. said any thing, it would be the truth. However, I did not hurry needlessly. I paid dear Sinai a visit, and during those delightful days we discussed the probable future, twisted, turned, and endeavored . ' , RUBI:NA 357 to lift the inscrutable curtain hiding it from our view. Fruit- less endeavors, but they begat hours of pleasant chat, and a stock of hope-abundant enough to feed upon in the coming separation. Not alone of the years to come did we talk; we sent a backward glance now and then down the halls of vanished time, freshy embalming each withered flower in its niche of memory; lingering over them lovingly, as we trod with hushed breath the sacred portal. "Ah," murmur- ed Sinai, "if we could go out of this form, and leave no gap! If the disintegrated elements of the affections would reunite and flow onward as easily as the divided ocean- waves! But that is impossible. Our heart-strings once cruelly wrenched asunder, never again quiver with just the same vibrations to the old familiar melody. The chords may be firmer strung, and send forth sweeter airs; I do not deny it," she resumed, plaintively, "but oh! they're-not the same. Ruby, my child, do you not know and feel it?" "Yes, Sinai. It seems sacrilege to me to even think of supplying the places of the dead with other friends; they may be good, but they cannot bring the same sense of kin- ship. No, they should live and reign in our hearts forever. Alas! that one human life cannot be torn from time, but it leaves some root bleeding. All unconsciously it may be to ourselves, we twine round each kindred heart-beat in our neighbors, and when the separation takes place, how we groan and suffer, and cast our mangled tendrils of love de- spairingly on the ground! They can never flourish again; never bloom with the same flowers as of old." That is true," -said Sinai; "we are each--however poor, and weak, and ignorant-a prop to some weaker soul; a teacher to some one more, ignorant; a guide to some one more blinded. There is comfort in that, Ruby. Who shaU page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] 68 ,B RUBIA. say, then, in a vain spirit of bitter complaining, ' Nature made me in a lowlier mood than- she did my neighbor: I am good for nothing-useless?' Let his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth in horrified refutation of the base cal- umny. Heaven would not tolerate idle dependences. We are all workers, voluntary and compulsory, in the divine vineyards., Know, O repiners, that you serve an important purpose in the economy of nature, if you but teach one fainter heart than your own the brave, grand lesson of en- durance." , "Yes, that is it, Sinai; the lesson of endurance! Ah! it toughens one merely to imagine the scenes of temptations and trials, and bitter strivings with the world and the evil within us; and the coming off victorious over all; and the renewal of strength after each bloody combat; and the robes of the victor at the end." I paused, and laughed exultantly. -"You look very much as if you liked it," said Sinai, gravely. " So I shall! so I shall!"I repeated, clinching my fist and shaking it in the unseen faces of my imaginary foes. "I' long to be at it, Sinai. The world! I but laugh at you. I will ride-on your topmost crest some day, and think it but a paltry triumph. I know-I see your sneers, and frowns, and angry dodges ;your slights and freezing smiles, and decided cuts; I don't feel abashed, I feel your pricks, and indig- nant thrusts, and violent kicks, and the spurs quivering in the warm flesh. They will not kill me'; the armor of pride is invincible. What are you but a menial, ministering to immortals? You shall bend the knee to me. As .for -devils, both great and -small, in knotted legions, I defy you all. I feel superior to all such demoniac affinities to-day, Sinai," I continued, laughing-at her astonished face. "Though, for , BUBIA. 859 any thing I know, to the contrary, it may be the charm of, your presence out-battling, out-riding the malignant spirits. They are often more potent for evil than to-day." "I am but a sinful mortal, like yourself," she murmured, gathering up her work. ' , Nay.- Debby declares you to be an angel, and I don't feel tempted to contradict her," I retorted, smiling at the grieved, horrified air with which she disclaimed all celestial attributes, and shaking my head in gentle denial at her ar- gument's close. However sad the beginning of our chat might be, we rarely left it so. Some sudden turn of the conversational road showed us a broad sunny field of mirthfulness, in which we sported, relieved and refreshed. Or her sisters would break in upon our seclusion with a quaint observation, completelyv sundering gloom, and sending a rift of cheerful laughter to end it. On the whole, happy, hopeful plans predominated over evil forebodings, and I bade them all good-by with a doughty heart. There remained only one more- friend to visit; so one sunny afternoon I gathered my work, and went up to see her. There had been a falling off in cordial visits since Mark's departure-not an acknowledged mode of declaring warfare, since each matron spoke when they chanced to meet in prayer-meeting, sewing-circle, and conference, and the two sires clasped hands as of old, and sent forth as hearty an "How are you "--there was a restraint plainly felt, though unexpressed-in words; and gradually the intercourse: came to be limited to very few and far between visits.: Olive, indeed, rarely went, anywhere in these days. Her sister's infirmity increased, and she wrapped herself in an at- mosphere of love and duty, seldom stirring from the, poor, page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] tooy RUBINA. maniac's presence. They admitted few visitors. Their presence usually inflamed Avis to such an extent, that she forgot herself-lost all trace of her pure, shy womanhood, and broke into fearful, blasphemous revilings and foul- mouthed obscenity. These spasms were in her wildest days, Often weeks would slip by, when, if nothing occurred to ruffle her, she was pliant and gentle as a lamb-distinguished from her right-minded former self by nothing save an idiotic va- cancy of look in her deep dreamy eyes, and an entire unob- servance of family movements. I usually saw Olive by stealth, a few moments at the gate, or- in a walk down the long hill homeward. Now I knocked at the door, rather doubtful, it must be confessed, if I might not be denied ad- mittance. A rustle and a scamper of feet followed; then a pause, when the door opened, and Olive stood there some- what flushed, but smiling a cordial welcome. "Come in," she cried, seizing my hand, "don't be afraid; Avis ran when you knocked, but that is nothing." "Is she worse than usual?"I inquired, as I tugged at the knot in my bonnet-string. "We can scarcely call her better; much the same. She was very wild this morning. Eliel brought home one of his young friends to dinner, and she went into a paroxysm di- rectly. She has been quietly expounding Scripture to us all the afternoon, until you came: then she shuffled away, and mother went after her." Mrs. Peirce here returned, shook my hand with brief kind- ness, and soon after slipped from the room, pausing a mo- ment in the doorway to say: "I hear you are going away, Ruby; is it so?" "Yes," I tranquilly replied. Olive looked up in surprise. :' Where are you going "' RUBINA. i 361 ' I don't quite know myself," I said, smiling in her wide- open eyes. "Better let well enough alone," said her mother, seriously. 6' I don't believe you'll better yourself." I shall be sorrier than I can tell, to have you leave," ob- served Olive, after a long, thoughtful pause. "I suppose you will do better to go, however; and sometimes I almost wish I could go where I could never set eyes on Northfield again. But that's a selfish wish, and I blame'myself for it, and strike my breast hard--so--to keep such hateful thoughts in their places." "Are -they any worse out than in. "I questioned, ab- ruptly. "Decidedly," was her cool, calm answer. "My' duty plainly lies at home. I shall never leave it," she added, firmly. "I sometimes seem to be walking in a dream," she proceeded. "Hcan scarcely realize how, when, br where my future has become so changed. I never looked forward to the possibility of its coming in this shape. If it had been but agradual approach, I think I could have borne it better. Oh, Ruby!" she let fall her work, and eyed me wistfally,. "I am quite discouraged at times." I bent a searching glance at her. The poor girl had changed, as well as her prospects. She looked thin, sad- eyed, and pale; her figure had lost its buoyant erectness, and gained a desponding droop-a weakness, showing itself in every motion of the wasting arms and trembling fingers; an unwonted nervousness, which started at every sudden sound, even' to the dropping of her thimble, or the sharp click of her scissors striking the bare floor. Her innocent, coquettish love of dress seemed also to have -fled. In place of the trimly-fitting delaine, the narrow wrought ruffle, and 16 page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] 362 - RUBINA. the black silk apron, she wore a slovenly, bedaggled calico, a wide, long woollen apron, and a blue gingham 'kerchief tied around her white throat. She caught the disapproving glance I'cast upon these articles, and half-laughingly at- tempted an apology. "No one comes to see us now, so I don't mind about being particular. What is the use?" she sighed, as she resumed her needle. I-rather heartlessly-said something regarding Mark's tastes in these appointments. She lifted a pair of reproach- ful eyes to my face. "Ruby, you don't know every thing. Let his name alone. He will come back some day, and all will be explained. I can wait," she said, sadly. "Yea, verily. Be not cast down nor dismayed, oh! daughter of Zion!" now pronounced a deep, strong voice from a corner of the room. I turned at the sound, to see Avis composedly sitting on the floor, Bible in hand-partly closed-while her great eyes regarded us with flickering light. "Avis, come and speak to Ruby, won't you?" asked Olive, coaxingly. Still she stared at us, moving not an inch. "How do you do, Avis? I am very glad to see you!"I exclaimed, rising and going over to her. I stooped and offered my hand; she glared at it a moment, and snorted an impatient, } Humph!" ere she reached forth her gaunt arm, and struck it from her contemptuously. "Humph!" she again muttered: "You're a messenger of evil, and I don't know you-begone! Get thee behind me, Satan." She shrank farther into the corner. "Why, Avis," said Olive, soothingly, "don't you remem- ber Ruby, whom you used to go to school with, and whom you liked so well I'm sure you do." RUBINA. 863' "Ah! you can't deceive me," she chuckled, with a hide- ous grimace. "Ruby was well enough once, but she belongs to the devil now-soul and body!" she added, aside to her sister. I got up and walked away. Olive followed, and we resumed our sewing. Presently some one nudged my elbow; I looked, and beheld Avis. "Poor chick! why don't you try this?" she exclaimed, in a tone full of pity, and rapping her Bible with a forefinger. "Didn't you ever try it? I have. It's all that does any good. You don't know how the little imps fly when I take this out and shake it in their faces. They can't stand; so they give a yell and pitch head-foremost into the brimstone again, and I get a little peace. Did you ever see hell-fire ." she asked, in a whisper. "No! Well, I have, times with- out number. I tell you it's awful; there's so much of it, and it keeps burning year after year; never dies down a mo- ment; rain don't put it out--only makes it blaze the fiercer. Then the worst of it all is, that away up above the skies I can see the elect, with the holy angels keeping company together, with songs and laughter, and every once in a while they get up and play on their harps-real shining gold ones, too-and dance before the throne. You remember the hymn, don't you? 'And sing, and dance, and shout, and fall o'erwhelmed before Thy throne.' Just like this;" and Avis commenced capering around the room with extraor- dinary gestures; every now and then bobbing her head almost to the floor. "Hush! oh! hush!" whispered Olive, soothingly. "Ruby knows all that. Sit down, now, and tell her about your schools." "I tell you I won't hush. She don't know all about it!" roared Avis. "If you do, come and show me how they do page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] -8 364: RUBINA.. it," she cried,A turning and seizing my haild. "There! she can't take one single step," she added, triumphantly. "Well, they sing and shout, and take off their crowns to throw at the foot of the throne, and -all sorts of things; only I won- der if they pick 'em up again, or do they get new "ones every time? Say, do you know? Tell me." "Don't they pluck them from the tree of life?"I faintly suggested, feeling rather frightened at her strange looks and tones. "Yes; that's it," she cried, delighted. "I never thought of that; and I've wondered and wondered, and read and read, and never could make out where their flowers and things came from. Well, why do they look over and laugh at us, away down, down in the darkness below? ' Tell me; you know." "They do not," I said, calmly as I could; ' they are sorry for and pity us." "That's false!"' she returned, decidedly. "I've seen them shouting and pointing their fingers at us-just as we used to shame the little girls in school to make them cry. Now it strikes me that, if they were goo'd, they'd be in better busi- ness. They are not good; only they are the elect, you see, so they are up there all safe and sound, without hardly try- ing for it.- Oh! they don't know how the fire burns us, right in through the flesh, dries up the blood and scorches the bones; how they. crackle! It's fun to hear, only it's awful to feel. I'd like to get hold of some, and pull 'em over the battlements into the flames! Then, I guess, they'd sing a different tune. But, no; that I never can do. That's part of our punishment, you know; to be spit upon and reviled, and to wear the thorny crown." "Never mind -her," whispered Olive; " don't answer, and, perhaps, she will stop." RUBINA. 365 "Well, we are alone to blame," proceeded Avis; "for we made a pit, and digged it, and have fallen into the ditch we ourselves have made. Poor child!"-to me-" you don't carry this book around with you, so you don't know. what is-in store for such as you. Listen, now!" She pro- ceeded to pick out denunciatory passages in the Old Testa. ment with ready zeal. "Read right along," I suggested. "No. The next are angels' verses; we have nothing to do with them," she muttered, as she turned hastily to Mala- chi. "Here, now, this is directly to the point: ' For behold, the day cometh that shall burn as an oven ; and all the proud, yea, all that do wickedly, shall. be stubble; and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor branch.' That's it," she chuckled-" neither root nor branch. But how long it will be before that happens! such slow burning for ages and ages. That's what Elder Fuller says all the proud and un- godly shall come to. Yes, he says I shall come to it if I don't watch and pray. I laughed in his weasen face, for I have come to it, and he didn't know it." "Read the next verse," said I. "'But unto you that fear my name, shall the sun of righteousness arise, with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth and grow up as calves of the stall. And ye shall tread down the wicked; for they shall-be ashes under the soles of your feet in the day that I shall do this, saith the Lord of hosts.' Pretty good authority," she paused to sug- gest. She was going on, when some word in the last verse caught and riveted her eye. "What next doom will be ours, I wonder?" she remarked, thoughtfully. "Trodden into ashes-burnt up root and page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 866 RU]BINA. branch! Doubtless, after every such extinction, we come to life again, in greater bodily perfection; with greater capacity to suffer .than before, and are immediately assigned a new torment." She stopped to ponder a new thought, and sud- denly exclaimed: "They say Dernis Martin is dead and gone to hell. I didn't believe it, and I asked Elder Fuller, and he said it was so. Now what do you suppose she is doing? I shall find her out. Oh! it's nice to have some one you know there. It seems strange; I thought her good; but it must be so; you know ministers can't lie. It must be her pride, I think; for she was as proud as Lucifer. Oh! a rare match they would make in that respect." The maniac paused, and putting both grimy hands over her mouth, laughed demoniacally. I felt suffocated.; and rising, I went to the further end of the room, awjcy from her, and looked out of the window. While I mused there of Olive's sad fate, in daily living this life, Avis stole nearer. Awhile she eyed me askance, then came boldly to my side. I would not exhibit fear; she was brawny, and, if excited, had strength enough to throttle one. I made room for her in the window. Olive left the room to prepare tea. "Have you ever been dead " whispered Avis, confiden- tially. I shook my head. "I have," she responded, with gratification. "I went there last night; into the. land of the departed-those vast unknown regions.' I'll tell you about it. The living think that silence reigns there; they lay their beloved in the cool, damp earth, say a prayer over them, and think that they sleep well. Sleep! There is no sleep for the dead-unquiet rest prevails. Insects in countless swarms sing your eyes wide open.--I lay still, in a half trance, soon RUBINA. 867 succeeded' by a species of apathetic wonder, as I began to take in the strangeness of every thingaround me. Humanity had certainly vanished. I listened. Concussions of the mil- lions who walk earth's surface shook the very foundations of my new abode. I 'knew that they were alive up there, walking, riding, working as usual. I knew that some were rejoicing, some sorrowing; I thought and reasoned about this, and yet--I was wearing the garments of the dead, in- habiting the last dwelling. Earth had become a memory- heaven a speculative wonder. Was this the entrance? I put all sorts of questions to my mental consciousness; I posed it with arguments. Myriad thoughts; strange, im- possible-solutions of this enigma revolved themselves in my brain. Vain human longings awoke in my heart, ravenous for sustenance. I gorged them with promises full of mis- givings, and upon their repose other desires seized me. I tried to move, to turn over; to my joy, I found that I was not stationary. Ah! thought I, a coffin shall only the my couch at night; the day is for amusement. One leap, and I rolled out of it as easily as I might have done above ground. I said day and night.' Well; although the sun does not warm or light the grave, in one sense two periods do exist- periods of eternity-for, you see, I had done with time forever. -Ha! ha! ha! You see, do you? I set out to find other , inhabitants, and I did not have far to journey. There are countless caves under ground where they loiter. I came upon them suddenly. I attended, without ceremony or question, one - of their levees. They made room for me, as a matter of course. 'Oh!' I whispered to my near- est neighbor, a tall skeleton, whose rattling bones pro- duced a sound like- castanets, 'it isn't exactly polite to come to a party without an invitation, but I got lonely page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 868 RUtBINA. out there. Who gives it? You must introduce me; my name is A.' "'Never mind!' interrupted the old skeleton. 'You left your name behind you when you came here.' "' Very good,' I responded, politely. 'I'm glad enough, for I never thought 'twas a pretty one. But I don't see how you distinguish one from another.' "'There is no need,' he said, solemnly. 'We are all alike here. This is my home.' I looked around anxiously. 'Oh!' said he, 'and every one's likewise. You can go where you like, only when the gun sounds you must hasten to your bed without delay. We all have to do that.' "' What gun?' I inquired. . ' I don't- know,' he answered. 'Some call it the great sound of vanishing time, calling us back to eternity. I call it a gun.' He laughed convulsively, and walked away. I began to improve my newly-discovered privileges. I was glad, after all, that it was not an unconscious slumber. I went up to a jolly, fat man, who was jumping up and down for sheer amusement. "'Come, he cried, seizing my hands, 'I want a part- ner. Those old maids won't dance; 'fraid their false curls will tumble off,' he whispered, facetiously. 'One of 'em tried a jig with me, a spell ago; fact. One set of teeth tumbled out her mouth-couldn't stop to tuck it in again, you know, so she lost 'em completely-won't, even smile at me now. Breaking her old cracked peanut shell of a heart for those teeth; blamed good dancer, too-ain't much on the new-fangled curlykews, but can't be beat on a good old cotillon, or the Highland fling. Don't dare to ask her to take another round, for fear her eyes 'll fall out, and then she would be madder still. Now, off we go,' and, IUBINA. 369 with a vain attempt to twine his little fat arm around my waist, he whirled me in a giddy waltz, till my head swam; my eyes grew fixed, and almost started from their sockets; and the blood seemed bursting from my cheeks. Coffin-lids burst off, and their amazed occupants popped out their sleepy heads to look at us. Some turned on end, and the inmates looked and cheered uproariously. Skeletons, sitting cross-legged on the ground, gathered up their rattling limbs as we wheeled and glided near them, shaking themselves for an accompaniment. "'Oh, can't we stop .' I gasped at length. "'To be sure,' and my jolly fat neighbor paused, panting. "' You see,' said he, ' I am slowly getting rid of it. This has been a pretty fair stretch. -I must dance with you again; you're so young and lively, you hop like a cricket. I must have lost a pound at least.' "'Of what?' I asked. "' 'Flesh, of course ;' he pinched himself in'sundry places, as if to test the truth of- his assertion, 4 It is such an en- cumbrance! I shall be thankful to be rid of it, but it will take so long ere I can dance well.' He sighed despair- ingly. 'Now, there's a partner yonder,' and away he danced towards her, as fresh as ever. Near me was an exciting game of leap-frog. I watched it a while, but finally turned away in disgust; for two long-limbed skeletons took unfair advantage of their shorter neighbors. What are you looking out of that window for? Attend to me when I am telling you all of these secrets." Avis paused, to treat me to a very angry frown. I com- plied, and she resumed, as she paced up andAown before me. "I'lltell you one thing, and you'llfnd it true some day: they cheat in the grave as much as they do here. All professions 16' page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] 870 RUBINA. stalked there. Ministers read sermons; lawyers stirred up contention, followed by suits, held courts; jurors brought in verdicts; and judges pronounced sentence. It seemed as though the long-continued habits of earth-life formed a chain too powerful to be at once severed. All at once, they began to gather themselves up; to move, as strokes of some distant bell clanged, peal after peal, like musical thunder, through the vast charnel-house. We hastened back to our coffins, and then began repose till another awakening. All believed in a resurrection. We discussed it often, the sole point of entire agreement among the army of the dead. Our departed spirits now roaming space, unconscious of our whereabouts, should in some happy age resume their relations to our bodies: every particle of matter be resuscitated in new and divine glory, and the twain--body and spirit bound indis- solubly in freshened holiness, should enter upon a heavenly inheritance. Meanwhile all vileness must crumble away from us, ere the august era could commence. I believe that, don't you?" cried Avis, suddenly facing me. "To be sure! But look at that lovely maple." I pointed to a gorgeous cone-like height of scarlet leaves. I wished to divert her mind from her gloomy theme. She came to the window and looeaked out. "That's a soft maple," she observed, with a sidelong glance, to see how I took this wonderful intelligence. I assumed a look of surprise, and began to ply her with questions. She was accomplished in that lore; a thorough botanist. She warmed with the thoughts thus carelessly suggested, pursuing them with the same impetuosity char- acterizing her subterranean revelations. I listened now delighted. What a fine' mind she possessed! What a wonderfully retentive memory! She appeared not to forget RUBINA. 371 the merest scrap of information-no matter how, when, or where received. Fact after fact came sifting through her mind-then dropped from her eager tongue, to illustrate some botanical mystery. No wandering speech. No lurid glare in the dark, thoughtful eyes.- No fierce, impatient ges- ture. Quiet her posture, intelligent her speech, with an occasional pause, and a look into my face of inquiry. I could hardly believe her the same creature, who a half-hour since railed at all human kind; shook her fist fiercely in my face, and called me a devil. I assented to all of her prop- ositions, nodding my head spasmodically if she but faltered in a sentence, for fear this sane interval would vanish as speedily as it came. How long we stood thus, I know not; but until my limbs seemed ready to drop to the floor with fatigue, and until the shadows grew broader and broader- over the mountains, and the flaming foliage of the maples grew colorless with the loss of daylight, and the young moon rose up from her eastern bed, a silver-white crescent, and poised herself high over the dark line of distant mountains. Olive re-entered the room, and summoned us to tea. I twined an arm around Avis's waist to draw her away with us, but she darted a look of jealous rage at Olive for inter- rupting her, writhed herself fiercely out of my embrace, and hastily opening a door, disappeared. I heard her stealthy steps pacing to and fro the narrow entry. I heard her unin- telligible mutterings, emphasized startlingly by sudden blows of her fist upon the intervening door. My last view of her that night was from a knoll commanding the house, as I wended my way homeward through the dewy meadows.- I heard screams, with the sound of voices in- expostulation, and hastily turning to discover the catfse, I saw a tall female form flinging from one of the upper windows. She landed in the page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] 872 RUBINA. garden below. The height was inconsiderable. Apparently she was not injured, for, straining eyes and ears to their ut. most tension, I presently observed her slowly rise, and, assisted by two other forms, slowly hobble into the house, while one-the sweet, sad-tones of Olive-remarked, "Avis, Avis, you must not do so. You will break your neck some day;" and was answereid by an ironical, sardonic roar. CHAPTER XXXII. I ARRIVED in -- late in the evening, after a tiresome journey. The morning was dark and uncomfortable. In the afternoon rain began to fall, gently at first, but increasing in force, and ending in a downright pour. This I did not mind. The changes were few; the-stoppages at stations brief. At every one I peered through the splashed windows, only to encounter strange faces, wearing anxious, disappointed expressions, thrusting eager glances down the line of seats, then retreating. hastily to make way for new searchers. But our time came at last to leave, and we stepped from the plat- form into a noisy throng of hackmen. There were crowds, * too, of waiting friends for the swarms of passengers. - On every side glad greetings arose, with smothered kisses and joy- ful exclamations. I stood irresolute. I had written Uncle -John notice of the day of our arrival, and H'perhaps unrea- sonably-expected some one to meet us. The crowd of drivers surrounded, jostled us. On all sides arose angry alter- cation. Annah pressed close to my side, whispering her fear. I roused my scattering wits sufficiently to select one of the gang, and to tell him my destination. The name , , * *. ' A RUBINA. 373 seemed potent to command respect; for he at once grew respectful, and shouldering my scanty luggage, he plunged through the giggling ranks, and signed me to follow. There were two other passengers-a gentleman and -a lady. It seemed that my destination was reached first. The rain poured in torrents, so I kept my seat as f' demanded the fare. He named an exorbitant sum; I -drew out my purse to pay him. Not so the gentleman opposite; he stopped me. "Driver!" he called sternly. The driver thrust in his drip- ping head. "Name the regular rate. You remember Hat- tuck, don't you?" "Yes, sir," meekly replied the jehu. "I forgot, mum"- with a wrathful, discomforted glimmer in his hungry eye as : he received the lower rate.. Good and timely service from an unknown friend; a true gentleman. I alighted before a large brick mansion. Lights glowed through crimson curtains in the drawing-roo-m windows: over these massive folds, looped back on either side, I caught a snowy glimmer of rich lace, veiling, not concealing, thb at- tractive interior. Over the massive door, through rows of tiny stained panes, the brilliant light streamed, making pleasant pictures. It was but a glance, as the driver slid my trunk up the marble steps and rang the bell. A neat housemaid an- swered it., She opened the door just enough to peep from the aperture a pert, pretty face, and to inquire in as pert a tone, "Who is- it ." Jehu replied by roughly pushing the door, and shoving the trunk inside. Then he shuffled down the steps, mounted his box, pulled down his oil-cloth cape, and rattled away as furiously as the storm and the consequent soft nature of the streets would allow. " Come," said the pert face, " don't'keep a body here all night, if you please.' She swung it open wide. page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] 374 RUBINA. I stepped into the hall. "Is my uncle in 8"I managed to ask. She gave a prompt negative, and plunged her small brown hands in the shallow depth of her apron-pockets. I then asked for my aunt. "She has gone to the synod of ministers, at the Church of the Apostles," she replied, glibly. -"Why, who can it be?" now exclaimed a voice from the open drawing-room door. A silk dress rustled into view, and my Cousin Milly filled that space. She put up both hands in affected surprise. "Why, I declare it's Ruby and Annah. Where in this world did you come from?" she inquired, with a pretty lisp. She withheld her hand from my offered clasp. "Where, indeed, but from Northfield?"I retorted curtly, for her manner angered me. I suspected her ignorance of our arrival to be assumed. "Were you not expecting us?" I asked, quickly. She simpered and dropped her eyelids as she answered: "Really, now, I dare say he quite forgot it; he is so full of business now-a-days, and has so many important matters on his mind. He says the times are really dreadful, and I dare say he is right; but, mercy! what's that to me? as if I cared. We don't have to screw and pinch to get along; we don't feel them any. Celia"-she turned to the girl, who stood lis- tening--" tell John to take this trunk up the back stairs." "Into the green-room, Miss Milly?" inquired Celia, with a giggle and a sideldng glance at my despised possession. Milly laughed also, but said coarsely: "Get along, stupid! of course not; nor in the oak-room either; but the one at the end of the entry." A wink finished the sentence. "And kindle a fire in the dining-room," called Milly after the re- treating Celia. Servants-take their cue from their mistresses. 'I considered RUBINA. 375 this, and felt no anger at Celia's insolence. I turned and surveyed my cousin calmly. She looked taller than of old; but no better. Her thin, bloodlesst-lips had the same scorn- ful curve. She assumed hauteur, and thought herself on that score eminently aristocratic. Pride-of some species -is quite endurable, and even to be commended; but inso- Jlent airs of superiority always gall to the quick: unless the receiver has arrived at the stage of viewing them as merely amusing acting, and can treat them in a nonchalant way. I had not arrived at this desirable point; therefore Milly's airs nettled me. I looked at her again. A skilful modiste had fitted her well: her robe of dark-blue silk- was unexceptionable; so were the tiny muslin collar and cuffs, and the gay little silk apron, with heavy silken tassels. "Are you tired?" she presently asked, in the cold tone of one who had neither anxiety nor interest in the answer. "Somewhat," I as briefly said. The drawing-room door stood open, but she said nothing about our entering, nor even invited us to be seated in the hall. I smiled at this. The extremity of insolence is always a ludicrous point. Braving her look of astonishment at my ignorant presump- tion, I advanced, and settled myself on the sofa. "How long before your father may be expected?"I now asked. "Oh, I don't know; not until late," she answered, coolly; and probably considering the duties of hospitality amply discharged towards such unwelcome strangers, she wheeled around and walked into the drawing-room, carelessly hum- ming a tune. "Never mind," I whispered to Annah's look of dismay; she leaned wearily back on the sofa. "The source of bad manners is to be taken into account, ere the poor, faulty things are to be judged; so don't honor her with your notice, my dolar." ; * page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] 376 RUBINA. The bell again rang. 'Celia again tripped up the stairway, and Milly again appeared at the door. "(It must be Ed- ward," she whispered nervously. "You don't want to be found sitting here, I suppose?" she added, turning to me. "Do you mind stepping in here a minute .?" opening, as she spoke, the door of the cold,- dark " tea-room," on the oppo- site side of the hall. I rose, and silentlycomplied. Annah followed. The room was damp with December chilliness, and dark as midnight, but for one ray penetrating through the keyhole-a kindly gleam from the hall lamp. I opened the door on a crack, and looked out.- A tall, thin young man entered, fashionably apparelled, who, I suppose, was "Edward," as he got a very cordial greeting. I think I must be truthful, and record, in addition to sundry favors, a kiss given and taken, while Celia discreetly averted her gaze. "Have you company?" he asked, while arranging his shining beaver on the rack. "I won't detain you from your friends." She lowered her voice, but I caught the reply distinctly: "Only some of our backwood cousins, who have quartered themselves on paw, just after the usual fashion of such folks, you know.", "Verdant, of course " laughed Edward, twining his arm about her waist, and bestowing upon the upturned, ex- pectant lips another delicately-dropped kiss. ( Oh, you can't ever imagine! I promise you some rare fun, only paw must not see us-they call him Uncle John! only think of it. Paw isa completely taken up with them, calls them wild flowers, and all that. Well, they're dande- lions, if any thing, I guess; homely stuff as can be!" Edward simpered: "I thought your friends didn't usually carry a brown 'hair trunk. I never saw but one before. My grandmother has one in the attic, full of old relics. She keeps RUBINA. 8" it religiously secure, for the sake of old times, I suppose. Queer old girl she is. But where are they?"He looked curiously in at the vacant drawing-room. "Well," she replied, hesitatingly, "I put them in the tea- room; it's rather coldiSh, I expect, but I shan't have them in here, that's certain. One hardly knows what to do with them. It won't do to stow them in the basement among the servants. You see, paw left strict orders to send the carriage for them, but I forgot, you know; and they think that he forgot to tell us of their coming. . I hope they feel comfort- ably over it. I told maw I'd fix 'em. Serve?.'em right, too, if such folks will poke themselves where they ain't wanted." At this juncture they got out of my sight and hearing; and the heavy door crashed to, and shut them in the draw- ing-room. I went into the hall, meeting Celia coming to call us to supper. She led the way down stairs, through a narrow entry lit by a hanging camphene lamp, to a pleasant dining-room beyond. A fire burned in a large box stove. A gay oil-cloth carpet covered the floor; a white linen crumb- cloth was spread beneath the square cherry table. Gayly painted shades hung at the windows. The broad sill of one was filled with plants, stunted and sickly looking. A strag- gling, neglected cactus-its pot labelled " case-knife variety" --and a thriftless ' Jerusalem cherry-tree," kept -company with a tall, spindling " lemon-tree," which Celia, officiously compassionating'my ignorance, informed me had "never borne, though it had been noc'lated twice." : In a corner, on the floor, uprose a trim shaft of "oleander," its top spread- ing out in a circle of drooping, glossy leaves, crowned by fragrant,. rose-tipped buds. 'The other window-sill held two canaries, in separate cages--tuneless, now, on their perches-; each yellow head tucked from sight, but'emerging quickly at page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] 878 RUBInA. our approach. Four black bead-like orbs scanned us. I noted these things as I took a seat at the table. This was spread with hospitable abundance. I was both hungry and thirsty, and I did the meal full justice, in spite of the pert Celia's constant gaze. Her sentinel aspect operated with a different effect on Annah, who tasted every thing in the tiniest imaginable bits, looking the while heartily home-sick. After this cheerless meal was ended, I drew a chair to the stove, and she drew a stool beside it, resting her tired head in my lap. I stroked her beautiful hair fondly. "Don't," she whispered, convulsively, ' don't touch me, or speak to me, for I shall cry." I peeped into her eyes smilingly; but finding them already filled with tears, and the sweet mouth quivering with a strong desire to shed them down, I averted my head, and folded my arms in silence. My aunt came soon after. I recognized her voice in the hall, confirming Milly's direction about our ridiculed bag- gage. She did not come down to see us; she entered the drawing-room. "Not a very flattering reception," whispered pride, bit- terly. "But you must make the best of it. It is too late to go back; besides, that would be cowardice. If you cannot do as you would like, you must do as you can," subjoined pru- dence. I listened to her worldly maxims, and put pride resolutely down. It seemed as though hours passed over our heads while we sat there. I had 'no means for ascertaining, but probably not more than one hour elapsed. The sergvants chatted and laughed boisterously with their " followers" in the kitchen. Occasionally Celia came in and replenished the fire. I was grateful for this solitary attention, and I pre- RUBINA. 379 sume looked so; for her insolent airs melted a little, and an expression of shame grew upon her face. During one of the pauses which greeted her return to the kitchen, I heard her exclaim: "It's a downright shame, after all. I wouldn't like to be treated so, an' it wouldn't set very well on their stomaohs' either, I reckon." I lost the rest, and again chewed the cud of silence. I had thoroughly masticated it; abstracted all the nutriment it may be supposed to contain, and was yawning wearily, when the bell again rang, and this peal sounded joyous to me, for my uncle arrived. He came down directly, and gave us a cordial welcome-more cordial, I suspect, that his wife's sharp eyes did not scan it. "I intended to meet you at the de6pt, but an engagement called me away. You came just as well under John's guid- ance, I trust," said he, inquiringly. "You met with no trouble?" "Not the least, uncle." "I'm glad of it. It rather worried me after I had gone, for fear you might not see John, or he might not find you. But why do you sit down here in the cold? Come up where vyou belong. Come!"He took Annah's hands, drew "one under his arm, and marched away. I followed. "MV dear"-to his wife-" we must try to make the girls feel at home-" he broke short off, when her greeting revealed that she had not before seen us. She frigidly extended the tips of her cold fingers. "Is your aunt quite well?" she asked, carelessly. "Very well, ma'am. She sent you her best regards," I answered. "Thank you," she replied, unconcernedly. "We heard page: 380-381[View Page 380-381] -880 RUBINA. of her daughter's death; it was very sudden, and very sad.: so young, so unprepared." ' IT said nothing. A pause followed, during which Uncle Lucas looked uncomfortable. Edward and Milly snickered, and exchanged foolish glances. At last, ventured Uncle Lucas in this wise: "Really, Annah is getting to be a young lady." Edward at this nudged Milly, and she smothered an affected grin in her handkerchief. Her father did not notice her; his gaze was fixed on Annah. He went on briskly: "Not a bad-looking one, by any means. Is she, Hannah? Now own up fair and square:" "Mr. Lucas, you forget yourself," she replied, with a withering look. "Well, Mrs. Lucas, then. You see it comes more natural to call you Hannah.- I used to, and I've no objections to the name now," he said. It's dreadful old-fashioned," lisped Milly. "I was named for you, aunt. Sister says so," rather un- luckily informed Annah, delighted at any notice being taken of her. "Sister don't know every thing," said her aunt, coolly. "' 1 don't consider it so. The first letter omitted, makes a differ- ent sound entirely. I presume your mother was ashamed of the ancient name; and tried to modernize it. At any rate, you needn't look for a present: I didn't get one for my own, and I never give any." "I don't expect-I never thought of that!" said Annah, hastily, her blue eyes filling immediately. "Who was Miss Ruby named for, I wonder?" said Miss Milly, mockingly. "I can tell you," I returned: 'I was named for my grand- RUBINA. 381 mother." I gave her a defiant glance, which she treated to a cool, insipid smile. "My mother's name was Rubina," interposed Aunt Han- nah, triumphantly. "Such naming don't amount to much. Car'line was great on pet names, I see.' "'At least, it was all the petting I ever got. You need not grudge it," I said. "Pah! she don't," returned Uncle John, cheerfully. "No. Thank fortune, I'm above that low business," she returned, with emphasis. Lest she add something decidedly unpleasant, her husband interposed quickly, with: (' :How tall Amnah is getting!" A most unfortunate obser- vation, especially when he added, "Millicent, you will have to look out now, or you will be quite eclipsed. I'm afraid you're done growing." She tossed her flaxen ringlets scornfully. "I don't want -to be any taller. I wouldn't be for the world. I think Ruby is too tall for a woman; and she's got such a horrid stoop. I've noticed all tall women do stoop. Annah will in time," she finished maliciously. Her mother smiled ap- provingly, and cast a look at her meek little spouse-who sat quite disconcerted-implying that he had got it now: he had better be careful. "Oh, Uncle John," I thought, " you are but a poor little dove between two hawks. Why will you 'rustle your sober plumage right into their outstretched talons?"He could not avoid putting in a sort of an apology for my infirmity-: "Poor Ruby's stoop is occasioned by overmuch work and study, and at all events is praiseworthy," said he. "Do let my round shoulders alone, Uncle," I put in, im- patiently. "They matter to none but their owner.'" Millicent resumed, perversely: "Now I don't want to look x page: 382-383[View Page 382-383] 382 RUBINA. down on my husband, as Ruby will have to do; she never will marry a man as tall as herself. Little men always pick for tall wives." "Perhaps she won't marry at all," murmured Edward; "old maids are not yet a defunct species." I was now exasperated. "Don't be in. the least alarmed, Millicent," I retorted, sarcastically, eying her leisurely from top to toe-a look I have found especially irritating, when levelled at myself-" you, at all events, never will look down on your future husband, either physically or mentally. That towering advantage must assuredly be his. Rest in peace on that score." "Good!" chuckled Edward, rubbing his little white palms together; then murmuring softly aside, "you have found your match there." She turned on him an ireful glance, and biting her bloodless lips, meditated a cutting retort, which he averted by rising and bowing his adieu. After this unexpected rejoinder from the country cousin, constraint fell on the inharmonious circle. "Are you sleepy?" asked my uncle, presently, of Annah. "I should like to go to bed," she answered, timidly. "You shall," he responded, in his kindest tone. "Yes," said Aunt Hannah, pointedly, " you can retire." "Certainly," echoed Millicent-rising and ringing the bell. "Celia"-to the advancing servant, "show these ladies to their apartment." "I wish I "could go with you, Ruby," observed Annah, disconsolately, as we stood alone in our room; "I can see they don't want me here. Milly never shook hands." "That's nothing," I said, decisively. "I think it's a great deal," she returned, naively. "I wish I could take you," I said. "I quite repent bring- RUBIcNA. 383 ing you here. You evidently will have many trials, taking this night for a specimen. Now, when you feel desponding. and impatient, and almost forsaken, you will turn right about and think how hard your sister is working to earn us a home. You feel that, don't you, darling . and know that as soon as I can I shall claim you?" "Yes," she said, mournfully. "I won't deceive you," I continued. "It will not be very soon; perhaps not for years; but you have a friend in Uncle John, who offers you advantages not to be lightly rejected. They are worth a little endurance," I said, cheerfully. "Yes, indeed, Ruby. I don't mean to complain. We cannot have our own way in every thing. You shall see how I can study, and then we can some time teach and live together." She bravely choked down the rising home-sick- ness. I steadfastly encouraged her philosophy, as I busily put the room in order. "To think that they should laugh at our mother's trunk," said she, an indignant flush mounting to her fair cheek. "Never mind. I shall take it. You will need none. See! here is a tiny drawer, just large enough, and your books will do very well on top. Oh! I shall see you many a time here in my thought, and waft you a kiss at the sight. I'm afraid I shall get none back." "No, for I shan't know where to send them," she an- swered, thoughtfully. "I shall write you every week, my pet, and you will do the same. Oh! we shall have rare letters. You will tell me every thing that happens, and you don't know how I shall watch and long for them." "I see one drawhack," she said, anxiously." page: 384-385[View Page 384-385] 384 RiUBINA. "Do you? What is it? We will fight the monster," I returned. "I write so very, very poorly!" with a deep-drawn sigh. "That's true enough," I laughed. "Never fear but that I shall decipher them, and in the mean time you must give attention to that branch of your education." "What shall we do to-day ." asked Annah, sleepily open. ing her blue' eyes the next morning. "'Pears to me, Ann, if I'se you, I'd git up the fust onset; but I don't know. I'm only a passenger," I answered, bend- ing over her. "Oh! that's Debby," she cried: "dear old Debby, I want to see her." "And," I continued, more soberly, "I am going to write; then we shall go down to breakfast, and- then we may ven- ture on a walk." I was answering an advertisement in the morning paper for " a governess for small children; one of prepossessing appearance preferred. Address Mrs. 'Selwyn, No. -, street, New York." At breakfast I showed it to Uncle John. He read it slowly. "I don't know about it. It don't specify terms, or say how many children," he remarked, in a doubtful tone. "What of that?" cried his wife, quickly. "I'm sure I see nothing amiss in it, Mr. Lucas. You don't expect every one to write an advertisement as you would, do you?" I smiled haughtily at her clumsily masked desire to get rid of me. I was determined to send my letter, at all events, and await the result. A week elapsed before an answer came; a week full of the same petty annoyances, petty slights, and visible sneers. I did not appear to notice them. This plan succeeded well. I overheard Miss Milly and her mother wondering at, and RUBINA. 385 regaling themselves with laughter at my simplicity. Very unflattering ,epithets they bestowed also; Edward joining in the fun-if fan it was-of running down two defenceless strangers. His silly-sally angered' me more than all the rest. I quivered sometimes in impotent rage, and it was only then, when striking against the bars and bolts of my prison, that I felt how really helpless I was to retort--to fling back a thunderbolt which would stun him into silence. This, I felt, was what they ached to have me do--lose my temper, only to find it again when pitilessly thrust from their door. For Annah's sake, and for Uncle John's peace of mind, I forbore, and I think -my resolute silence and unheeding ways tor- mented thqm beyond any retort. In the mean time I bathed my wounded pride in the consolatory reflection of my speedy absence; but I shivered anew for Annah. "I must work the harder," I thought; and each taunt acted as a spur- painful, but necessary to goad me on to greater effort. Mrs. Selwyn wished me to' come immediately, but said nothing of terms or the number of my pupils. I did not think it strange. "I wish I could go down with you," said Uncle John, thoughtfully. Aunt Hannah gave him a took of astonishment. "( Well, why don't you?" she asked, icily. "H don't see how I can, just at present. If Ruby would be content to wait a little, I would try ." I broke in: "( I shall write for them to- meet me on Satur- day. I shall get along well enough, Uncle John." Aunt Hannah sipped her coffee in silence. She did not think it politic to precipitate a longer stay by too openr repugnance therefor. I have a strong spice of the contrary in my disposition. 17 page: 386-387[View Page 386-387] 386 RIUBINA. Saturday came all too soon. I dreaded unspeakably taking this solitary step-fraught with unknown .combina- tions of good or evil. Hitherto I had been trying my self. reliant wings in the shadow of some friendly nest. There yet remained for them the eddying circles ini mid-air, and the--hoped-for-long flight onward. The parting with Annah was a trial unavoidable.' She clung frantically to me, rejecting solace. My aunt gave me her hand, wishing me "success in my undertaking," as coolly as if I were a total stranger-whom by chance she met--bound on a mission to Liberia. She had no emotion to waste; for which I was devoutly thankful, as I thereby husbanded my store--not destined certainly, as yet, to poverty. Milly, seated in the wipdow on a divan, just lifted her eyes from a fascinating novel, and bade me a decently civil "good-day," which I returned in coin of the same stamp. Thus I passed from the portal of this stately mansion, and, mentally, shook off the dust from my feet. Uncle John was to go with me to the station; a kindly offer--its value enhanced by the fact that it was made in spite of his wife's sneering, steady gaze. The effort which it cost him was, however, fully rewarded by the conscious sundering of the first powerful coil around his manhood. His meek demeanor straightened into a near approach to dignity, as he followed me into the carriage. The driver cracked his whip. The horses started. I leaned forward to nod gayly to Ainah, who stood in one deep crimson embra- sure in the gorgeous drawing-room, one hand clutching un- consciously the rifted cloud of snowy lace, the other shading her tearful eyes, I glanced at the other window, where Milly and her mother stood, pointing to my little hair trunk strap- ped on the outside, both heartily laughing. Suddenly Milly RKUBINA. 387 pointed to Annah. In a flash I saw Aunt Hannah dart forward and strike her hand from its grasp on her elegant curtains, just as the carriage wheeled around the curb and rolled heavily away. "Uncle John--you don't object to my calling you go?"I said, with a questioning glance. He colored visibly. "No, indeed; Ilike it," he answered, warmly. "But we all have our little peculiarities, you know. It always comes natural to me to say Hannah.. The minister called us John and Hannah when he married us; may be that's the reason," he' finished, apologetically. ("I was merely going to request you to let me know im- mediately, if it should be best to take Annah away," I said, sadly. * "I will-I promise," he said, earnestly. Again he colored, fidgeted a while on the seat, and finally stammered, "How well off are you, my good little niece?" "Oh! I have a little fortune in prospect," I said. "I'm glad of that," he responded heartily, " but it won't supply present wants. Let me add to it a trifle." He drew out a plethoric pocket-book. "The richer should always divide with the poorer," he added, laughing; '" so if you can prove yourself that, why I'll take my share." He shut his eyes, and held out his hand. I dropped my little green silk, ivory-ringed purse therein. "TWhat a genial little man you are," thought I, " when away from 'your wife's eyes!"He counted my purse's contents. All told, to every f stray copper coin, they reached the overwhelming magnitude : of seven dollars. Uncle John laughed. "Just about half what Milly asks for a new bonnet," quoth he, "and you begin life with it. Well, capital will grow- if properly managed." page: 388-389[View Page 388-389] 888 BRUBINA. He crumpled a bill into one end of the shrunken silk; a bright gold piece balanced the other. His kindness ended not here. He discharged the hack, procured my ticket, placed me comfortably in the car, and handed me a silver coin. "If Mrs. What's-her-name don't meet you, give a driver this, and tell him her direction. I hope you will find it all right. I'll see after your baggage." "Uncle, how can I ever thank you .?"I murmured, clum- sily. "Pooh! don't make me feel ashamed," he interrupted, laughing. "Good-by, and Heaven bless you! Come back to us if any thing is the matter, my child," he added, earnestly, aild, wringing my hand, he was gone. CHAPTER XXXTTT. MRS. SELWYN did meet me. I overheard a gayly-dressed little lady inquiring for me among all the solitary lady pas- sengers. My turn procured her an affirmative answer. "Come this way," she cried, quickly.. "Thank Heaven, I've got the right one at last. I believe I asked three-score and ten, and angered most of them, of course; every woman, be she named Jones, thinks her name a beauty, and all others horrid," she laughed. She was a suave little body; she put me politely into a handsome carriage, entertaining me all the way to her resi- dence with a smooth string of easily-spoken phrases; in any- body else, they would have sounded uncouth and abruptly delivered. , * A - 1 . RUJBINA. 389 "I declare this carriage seems like a hearse, Max"-to the footman-" let down the windows. Ever been to New York before?"--to myself. I informed her of those early years with a precisionpwhich must have amused her; but she gave no sign. "Possible? Did you, indeed? I'm sure you'll like it- so much to be seen-such a gay city--perfect panorama all the time. We shall have, charming times. Dear old Broad- -way .!as we drove slowly through the brilliant thoroughfare --none like it in any other city. Such shops, such theatres, and operas, and the like! Oh! in an exceeding short time you will be enchanted." I wondered if she forgot, or only for the present politely o ignored, the fact that she was addressing a governess-a miserable, obscure creature, who had neither part nor parcel in such pleasures, or heart to appreciate and enjoy them; who had been hired for the express purpose of -staying at home in some upper chimney-corner, secluded from the gay area of the grand mansion with the children, while their lady mother sported her bright plumage in the light of these and similar attractions. According to story-tellers, governesses were not accustomed to much attention; did not receive much sympathy; led a slavish life, in short. Contempt from every quarter greeted them oftener than civility, and gratitude from either parent or child, after devoted service, was an unlooked- for payment. "It appears I am to be an exception," thought I. "The rigid rule is reversed; or my ignorant rusticity has founded too much faith on the veracity of these complain- ahts: their woes are imaginary, extorting no sympathy from the experienced gazer, or the transient shade is effectively deepened into gloomy vistas by exaggerating fingers." As Madawe's conversation neither required nor seemed to page: 390-391[View Page 390-391] 390 RUBINA. expect any answers-my responses being treated with good- natured indifference--I soon amused myself by comparing the lively lady with her grave companion. Never was there a greater contrast. The first-named figure wore a crimnson dress, long, voluminous, with a black velvet bodice, exqui- sitely shaped, and profusely decorated with lace and buttons. Over her sloping shoulders draped gracefully an India shawl; the colors warm and glowing. A jaunty velvet bonnet tossed its sweeping plumes with her head's incessant motion. Kid gloves, rounded smoothly over her taper fingers--these latter swung to and fro with a graceful motion; an embroidered silken bag-a fine cambric handkerchief peeping from between its strings. . The other figure-I remember it well, and, With the usual inconsistency to our earlier selves, I' laugh at it now re- morselessly-was -attired in a coarse plaided gown, of country manufacture. A village mantuamaker had exhausted her skill thereon, " to get a fit," and signally failed--quite uncon- sciously, of course, to the artiste. The gored skirts looked prim and ungraceful; its extreme shortness disclosed a pair of shoes not worse shaped than the foot would inevitably make them, but a size too large for the wearer. Old Adam Smith had-after due measurement of ankle and instep- triumphantly turned them off his last and pronounced " a proper, 'cute, likely pair o' ties." In Northfield they looked well enough, but in New York they wore upon their wrinkled surface the indescribable " not-at-home" air, which is the ap. pendage of all ill-at-ease strangers. Bonnet several stages larger than the modern 1" scoop;" the crown ambitious of size; the front enormously perpendicular, of green silk, spot- ted with the assiduous wear of several winters, and frayed around. the edges-where the rigid wire inexorably ap- *^ ' RUBINA. 391 peared on the surface. My case was not an exceptional one. "Altering" was unknown in Northfield. A striped woollen shawl was pinlned closely around the throat of this lay figure-the clasp, a huge darning-needle; its point repeatedly dipped in- hot, red sealing-wax, until a re- spectable head had accumulated. In her hand she carried a gray cassimere satchel--essentially a home-made production -its strings bright-green " quality." What a target she offered for ridicule! What a dish!-infinitely varied to suit the most fastidious joker. But you could not have guessed from Madame's manner that she did not consider her fellow-passen- ger a princess. Not one stray side-glance indicated her per- ception of my incongruity with my elegant surroundings.;' I laughed in my sleeve at the "attractive' answer to her advertisement, and vainly wondered what she thought of it, while her limber tongue kept up its'continual melody. Aunt Hannah and Milly contrived to make me feel every moment in their presence my unfashionable attire, my extreme poverty. This New York dame, in her silks and satins, with admirable tact, contrived to rSake me forget it. Ignoring a consciousness of it herself, and by some species of magnetism drawing my thoughts from their centre on self, I soon lost sight of all else but her talk and -graceful manner; by the time the carriage stopped I felt entirely at ease. The bril- liant gas-light showed me a corner house, of rather imposing dimensions, The shutters were tightly closed; no stray gleam shone from its many windows. It looked solitary; deserted amid its more cheerful neighbors. From these, on every side, flickered out from the half-closed- blinds many a tender radiance. As Madame descended the steps, let down by the obsequious footman, she paused, and half turning to me, remarked: "I forgot to tell you that I have several page: 392-393[View Page 392-393] oa .; RUBINA. friends staying with me for the present, also my two sisters live with me, but you will not mind." "Of course not," said I, " as my place is in the school- room with the childrein"I said this rather hastily. I did not want her to show me my place; I knew it already. I mentally added, as I stepped to the broad stone-flags, , You don't expect to be treated as an invited guest, Ruby Brooks? You are a servant, regularly ordained; waiting only for the work to be given you." Conscience patted my head, approv- ingly saying: , Do your labor, then, honestly, faithfully, with no expectation of other reward than your pecuniary one-save the recompense of your pupils' affection and prog- ress."- At our ring, the door- immediately opened. "Oh, Angie, it's you!" said Madame, entering. She introduced her to one as her sister, with some remark about placing her under my'tuition. Angelica sighed, and tossed her auburn curls. "I am too old forthat now. How old is my rejected preceptress " I told her. "And I am near thirty," she said, with a glance at her sister, which I could not translate. "Impossible!"I said, in surprise. "I should not have guessed it." Hwas then ignorant of the concealing arts of the toilet, and the friendly hiding of defects by gas-light. She laughed, and looked pleased. The door opposite open- ed. It was dimly lighted, but I saw that it -was tenanted. Figures clustered in twos and threes on sofas; and lounged singly, on low, square, tasselled ottomans, Angie pushed me forward, and announced Amy name, when there was- a gradual rising; and the throng, either from curiosity or mer- riment, surrounded me. One turned up the gas, laughing at my start, as the vivid flame danced suddenly before my ,Y St am R' UBINA. 393 eyes. Angie commanded silence for the ceremony of pre- sentation, but was indignantly put down. (' We prefer to introduce ourselves," cried one, stepping forward "Theresa Joy, at your service, marm." She dropped me a low courtesy. Others followed, imitating likewise the obeisance. "Hush, you giddy prates! You should be silent before your seniors," exclaimed one, drawing up her tall form with a praiseworthy attempt -at dignity. "I am known and honored under the lovely designation of Sally Jones, marm-; not so charming, quite, as my person ; but answers tolerably." Sally wheeled around, and executed the Spanish for my edification. One and all looked wroth with me, why I could not divine. We were utter strangers; they were guests, I a servant. What more they would have said and done remains un- chronicled, for the hostess now entered, real anger glowing in her large black eyes, and addressing Angie hotly, the rest shrunk back to silence. Ere I could wonder at this sharp language, Miss Theresa cut in defiantly: '"Well, she won't be a stranger long, will she, comrades?" A chorus of voices responded, in spite of Mrs. Selwyn's threatening aspect. Then the dinner-bell providentially sounded, and all discussion-ceased. Mrs. Selwyn took me under her wing, and established me near her at table. Dinner proceeded quietly. A well-trained servant waited. Conversation was carried on in under-tones-almost in whis- pers. Madame grew confidential with the advent of dessert, and apologized freely for their previous rudeness. I ven- tured to ask if her friends would remain long. "An indefi- nite period," she replied, evasively. Then I asked if I could see the children after dinner. She 17 page: 394-395[View Page 394-395] 894 RUBINA. gave a little start. "Oh, I quite omitted to tell you, on our way home, that the darlings are yet in the country, sur- feitingr themselves with fresh air and cream." I was aston- ished, and I dare say looked so, for Mrs. Selwyn hastily added: "You think it strange I did not write you this news. Well, so I undoubtedly should, but I expected them home ere you c ame. I don't worry in the least. I have great confidence in Lucy, their nurse. Perhaps she did not receive my letter recalling them. I shall write again Monday. A day or two will make no difference. Ah! Miss Brooks, we city mothers sadly neglect such little matters as punctuality and promptness. You shall reform me. Oh, don't begin to refuse now! I assure you I will be a docile pupil, and do my best." I tried to say something in reply; but stopped foolishy, my face glowing with confusion. All this was so strange to me--Mrs. Selwyn's easy, off-hand ways, and short, discon- nected sentences. Then she besprinkled these latter with the oddest, rather bewildering gestures-intended, doubtless, to give emphasis to her talk, but which puzzled and con- fused me. Indeed, she gesticulated constantly. When her hands were not in motion, her head was; and her feet, also, kept time in soft pitpats on the thick carpet. Her young guests' riotous manners and loud talking, when away from the restraint of her presence, puzzled 'me also. Instinct murmured in my unconventional ears that it was not the most perfect- breeding. I looked up from consider- ing these things to find Sally's sharp eyes fastened on mine. "A penny, Miss, for your thoughts!" holding out her hand. "Oh I girls, she is actually blushing. Now it's absolutely re- freshing to see a blush that isn't produced by rouge; it re- minds one of all sorts of verdant things from that magic para- RUBINA. 395 dise-the country. Cool rushing waters, green fields, and rustling foliage appear instantaneously to my. recollection at witnessing that blush. None of you can do it, girls!" "Don't be extravagant of them, Mademoiselle," spoke up another. "You will use them up presently; and there's no more forthcoming, when once they're gone. Better save them for gentlemen's admiring glances." One asked some- thing of Madame now, answered by a stealthy look, which she appeared to comprehend, for she adroitly dropped the subject. I was glad to get to my room, A bright fire in the tiny grate welcomed me. A mirror reflected the cheerful glow; a toilet amply furnished with-to me unknown--pomades and pQwders stood beneath, draped in snowy dimity. A pretty carpet; an easy-chair wheeled before the fire; a low bedstead, with snowy counterpane and plump ruffled pillows, in one corner; white holland shades at the windows-this was my peaceful-looking nest. Ere I closed my eyelids late that night, I reflected long; I pondered well my prospects. They seemed to stare back at me with a hopeful glow. Common sense urged me to feel grateful for such a flattering reception, "so different from your expectations," she whispered. "The drudgery of a governess is a myth. Your lot is cast among pleasant places. Sleep, then, in happy oblivion of all distracting thoughts," she commanded. Yet, do what I would, a satis- fied feeling would not enter into my heart. I explained this by saying, over and over again, that it was merely the chill reality always casts when different from expectation; such whimsical creatures are we; and I ended by rating myself as a fool, and trying to lose sight of my miserable imbecility in slumber. The city's roar sounded far, far in the distance, page: 396-397[View Page 396-397] 396 RUBINA. I realized, in listening to the faint, yet distant, rumble of vehi- cles; to the policeman's frequent rattles, and the shouts and cies afar off, that I had indeed left the still, waveless pool of quiet, for the eddying circles of the whirlpool change. The gray of morning faintly glimmered over the lofty roofs and spires. The street lamps were extinguished ere the revellers below sought their couches. I heard continuous arrivals for a long time after I had resigned myself to slum- ber. A piano, too, woke music throughout the mnidnight hours, and a sweet voice occasionally accompanied it. Then my strained-ears caught a muffled sound as of dancers on the thick carpet, and frequent,.merry laughs. As may be imagined, I slept only at intervals; tired na- ture succumbing during a momentary hush in the festivities, only to rouse again with a start at being caught napping; only to rise in bed and stare around me bewildered, as a louder laugh or a gayer measure rattled out furiously, and floated up the staircase. Once I rose and peeped through the windows. As I expected, a flood of light oozed through the windows below, illumining the street. The houses oppo- site were dark and silent. I came fully to the conclusion that there was a party below stairs; a large one evidently, and a gay one certainly. I stole to my bed, and again slept. The brief clang of opening and closing doors in the cor- ridors again aroused me--then all was silent. I rose softly and dressed. Then I threw wide open the shutters and leaned out. Sweet to me looked that holy Sabbath morn. The sun was risen, but the thick clustering house-tops hid his disc from me; only glittering, radiating spears of light clambered re- solutely over them, andt4old me that he was marching boldly towards mid-heaven. Bells floated soft vibrations on the cool air. The Angelus tolled its mystic trio for worshipping ,. . RUBINA. 897 thousands; solemnly, slowly swung the prayerful melody. A peaceful quiet-born, alas! of sloth-brooded over the great artery of sound. It seemed as if the vanished night possessed some cleansing property, making purity usurp the place of poverty and filth in the almost vacant streets. As I leaned out of the open window, indulging in a reve- ry, half sad, half doubtful, a low tap sounded on my door, and a housemaid entered with my breakfast, and the informa- tion that " they all took it in their rooms." The day glided away; the eve was passed much as the preceding eve. All appeared to think that with twilight the sacred character of the day was ended, and light talk, interspersed' with loud laughter, resounded through the house. I kept in my room, but was sent. for from the parlor; much against my inclina- tion. This was a large apartment, the walls covered with gilt paper, with crimson bordering. The same rich hue pre- dominated everywhere. The carpet was crimson and white; the'couches and divans crimson velvet;. )il paintings, in massive frames, hung from the lofty ceiling by large crimson cords with heavy tassels. Mirrors flashed back light from either end, and from the marble-carved mantle. Plenty of nicknacks strewed the oval centre-table. A pretty stand of beautiful shells lurked in one of the corners; but not a book or pamphlet was anywhere visible. The ladies had retired to their rooms, but they presently re-entered, arrayed in full evening costume. Silks of the gayest hue rustled stiffly in, and cloud-like muslin floated airily around. On their bare necks and arms flashed dia-1 monds and rubies. I found much amusement in watching them. Of the eight guests, one Lucia was by far the most beautiful. Her fair cheeks glowed like the pearly opal shells I was surveying; her ivory neck was encircled with page: 398-399[View Page 398-399] 398 RUBINA. gems; they glowed likewise like eyes of flame on her fair round arms. Pure white, of some fleecy material, swayed with each undulating movement of her graceful form. Her heavy braids of soft brown hair were looped low at the back to her shapely head. Large, dark-blue eyes completed the attractive -physiognomy. Sally Jones was present-a dark, would-be queen. Amber- hued satin set off her tall form well. A string of these beads twined around her massive throat, and wove themselves into bracelets or her muscular arms. Crimson flowers drooped from her black tresses. A- girdle of the same color wound carelessly across her bosom and tied in a knot at her side. These two figures-a perfect contrast-I watched, to the exclusion of all others. I thought there seemed a sort of rivalry between them; at all events, Miss Jones bestowed upon Miss Lucia no very amiable glances. "Are you a nun, Miss Brooks, that you affect such ex- treme simplicityof attire?" suddenly inquired a voice near me. "I did not know your customs," I said, timidly; "and I have nothing wherewith to follow them. I feel -strangely out of place here." "Never mind; you will soon learn them," she said, carelessly. "Is this a usual one ." I asked, absently, listening to the shouts of laughter from Jones. "What? dressing for evening?" she asked, with a laugh. "Oh! yes. Is there any thing wrong about it?" "Oh! I did not think of that," I returned. She con- tinued, in a lower tone: - "We each have brothers and cousins in the city, and this is the only leisure they have; so Mrs. Selwyn invites them to pass it with her, and we just take a fancy to dress a little RUBINA. 899 more than ordinary. We go out very little, Madame keeps u1s so close." '"At all events, when wearied of your hostess, you can return to your own homes," I said, consolingly. She was silent. "Mrs. Selwyn's sisters do not resemble her at all," I remalrked presently. "Which do vou mean?" she asked, quickly. I point- ed them out, at which she curled her cherry lip disdain- fully. "We are all her sisters upon occasion---- She stopped short on seeing my questioning glance. The bell rang, and she turned away. I seized the favora- ble opportunity and darted up-stairs to my room, as I fondly hoped without being observed. There, I finished a long letter to Annah, and also a tale, commenced a year ago in Northfield. For a long time I sat turning its leaves, gazing dreamily at the familiar words, and pleasedly speculating as to its probable fate. Of faith I possessed an abundance. Not a doubt had I but that it would find ready, even eager, publishers, and I considered--when it reached the eyes of the great public-my fortune and fame as won. I resolved to sally forth with it, done up in a neat roll, and tied with a blue ribbon, early in the -morning. Then I reflected, with serene content, that many hours of leisure might fall to my share, after other legitimate duties were disposed of, which I could fill with similar occupations. "Madamne shall not wean me from such precious solitude," thought I. "It is certainly kind in her to invite me to the parlor, but it is done only in kindness; not because she wants me. 'It is not expected, either, that you will rush eagerly forward- to comply; you do not desire it,' put in. self-respect. 'They are- uncongenial souls to yours, doubtless immeasurably su. page: 400-401[View Page 400-401] 400 RUBINA. perlor: let them, then, keep to their' height; you will con- tentedly sink to your happy level."' The family conclave below stairs grew riotous; noisy bursts of merriment greeted, from time to time, my peace- loving ears. Sunday had hitherto been observed by all around me as a period of scrupulous rest; as a day set sacredly apart for reviving holy memories, for shaking off from the heavenward-bound soul the sordid dust of clinging worldliness. I could not help shuddering to think what those thoughtless souls below stairs rendered it: a carnival season of routs, and a mere mockery of observance. In the very midst of the clamor I went to sleep-previously taking the precaution to bolt my door. I had never been accustomed to do this, and the previous night had forgotten it: now, I reflected, all things are changed; it is well enough to be care- ful. I had occasion to congratulate my unusual care, for I heard the knob softly tried late into the night-- by whom, or for what purpose, I was quite too startled to ask. I went out on the morrow, after undergoing considerable questioning from Mrs. Selwyn, and a good deal of raillery from her guests at my ribbon-tied package. I do not propose to relate a tithe of my experiences. One editor just glanced at the title, after disdainfully untying the ribbon and shaking out the leaves, as if infected: "Won't take," he decided gruffly; "' got scores of such un- profitable wares on hand. Not worth powder enough to blow them up." Glancing at where I stood, vainly trying to ap- pear unconcerned, he added more softly, "Short, spicy tales might do. 'A long story couldn't undertake." He took particular pains to retie the package, and handed it to me with an ironical smile. Another was just the reverse in man- ner, with similar judgment. Very blandly he discoursed RUBINA. 401 very elaborate his bows. I hardly knew at the time what he was saying; but, at the conclusion of a somewhat lengthy sen- tence, I took myself and bundle off the door-sill--literally bowed from the august premises. "Well," I said, hopefally to my sinking heart, " this is not just what you expected; however, be brave and try again." I did try again and again without avail, and with each trial assurance grew apace : timidity, daunted, cowered for awhile in the nearest hiding-place. I rather liked the experience I was undergoing. Most refused briefly, without deigning a glance at my offering. Only one-a tall gentleman, with silvery locks and benevolent smile, frankly told me the cause of my defeat. "True story; looks tolerable," he remarked, after hurriedly glancing over a few pages; " but you are not known. Begin- ners stand but a poor chance. We must follow the lead, madame," he pursued, smoothly. "There is nothing like appending to published articles a name that has achieved prestige; it sells your paper at once. The public is not always a discriminating judge, it is true. It often greedily swallows a washy draught from one of its favorites. Once gain a little renown, and you may offer it what you please. The "iterary Reflector' will take your articles then, madame," he finished, smilingly. "But the imperfect fruit must have opportunity, ere it can develop to maturity," I thought, half bitterly. Aloud, I merely said, "Then you refuse to read it?" "I am willing," he said, quite patiently. "But we are not our own masters; we cater to our patrons' tastes, and often -sorely against our private judgment-serve up to -them what to ourselves would be unpalatable fare. You may leave it, however; I will give it a trial.' page: 402-403[View Page 402-403] - uV RUBINlA. Arrived at home-home, indeed!-madame greeted ,me: "Well," she cried, "her hands are empty; our authoress has disposed of the wonderful tale. Pray what magazine is to be honored by its appearance?" she asked, with a sweet, though somewhat ironical, smile. I replied evasively, and again inquired if my pupils had arrived. "No, indeed," she declared; ", I cannot imagine the reason of their delay. I wrote on Monday, stipulating positively for their instant arrival." I looked at her steadily. She gazed back at me calm and smiling. "I cannot fathom you," I thought. "You do not seem anxious: you by no means show a maternal interest: no solicitude appears for their unaccountable non-arrival." I reflected on the singularity of her urging me to come imme- diately, and of her omitting to tell me of their absence. My suspicions, once-on the alert, were swift to discover other in- congruities. I remembered glances interchanged with her guests. Guests! Were they her guests? Theresa let fall, the night previous, that she had spent a year with her-a goodly time for a visit, and she never spoke of leaving. I could, in reality, detect nothing wrong in this; yet my mind refused to be quieted. A remark from Mrs. Selwyn, later in the evening, balanced the scale; I decided to leave imme- diately, Bewildered and frightened, I felt certainly in a net, surrounded by only one means of escape--instant flight. ]But whither? That was-the item to face. Forward, my spirit resolutely urged. Forward! But the way was still dark to my vision. No. I must wait yet another night, I concluded; and thus resolved, my course shaped itself clearly before me. I went out in the morning, after locking my trunk; stopped and scrutinized plavfully by Madame, who-apparently satisfied RUBBISA. 403 that all was right-made no effort to detain me.., I went first to the editor to inquire for my truant MSS. I saw its fate in his face as I came into his presence. "I am sorry," he began, " but I'm afraid it is a little too flowery to take." He read a passage from the pages before him-poor heart, how it fluttered, as the ironical tone shivered ' many a bright delusion!"Oh, days of Arabian enchantment! Summer days of fair fruition, cloying with sweetness; satiat- ing our poor human heart with the honey of Life's fairest side. A living reality while ye- lasted, ye are become the saddest of memories-for never can those sunny paths again be trod. Gone is the dew from each tiny spray; the fresh- ness from the flowers. Dry stalks rattle drearily; and are scattered by the wind-no longer a summer breeze--over the mossy turf, now shrivelled and brown. The birds are banished: Hope no longer makes nests amid the branches, It is not well to linger too long amid ruins. It is not well to waste precious moments of the swift-gliding Present in unavailing mourning for the Past." He paused, and pointed to another page: - 'Seal all remorseful questionings with the balm of wasted youth; stamp them legibly, as foolish dreams of unreflecting childhood. O'er their gray ashes chant no dirge; but rise rather to action. In the mould of the Has Been sleeps the purer strength of the To Be. Give it colossal life, and power, and beauty. Oh, let the whisper- ings of the ' still, small voice' drift downward into your soul, startling its dreary, selfish sloth, like a clarion call-to labor far humanity. Then, in after years-though the past land- marks can never be wholly obliterated, yet they shall be left so far behind in our memories, that we may view them as wayside graves; yet lurking far, far distant from our direct road of travel." page: 404-405[View Page 404-405] 404 -RUBINA. "I will take. it, if you please," I interrupted.: He silently placed it in my hand, and I went out. When in the street, I tore it into a thousand fragments. I found a melancholy relief in sowing it broadcast, as I slowly wandered along; to me it was the burial-necessary, perhaps, but sad-of my grand dreams. What was I to do-? Where was I to go? I scarcely thought at first, as I battled bravely with this disappoint- ment,and destroyed the labor of months. As my bitter feelings faded, the necessity of seeking an immediate shelter somewhere, recurred to me. I knew no one. I had no courage to seek for employment. The morning was spent, the noontide was long since passed, but I still strolled on, much too thoughtful to be weary. These past three days seemed like as many weeks; so full had they been crowded of reflections and cares both placid and bitter, of eager hopes and necessary changes. Then I surmised suddenly that I must be hungry--with renewed strength might enter clearer counsel. I bought some cakes, eating them as I strolled along, devising plans for the coming night. I believe all sorts of absurd spirits revelled in my brain for a few hours; but from each's method of compromising with propriety, I turned away with disgust. To add to my bodily discomfort- my mental could hardly have been worse-there began to de- scend, towards evening, a chill December rain. As I could not stand forever under awnings, or loiter in doorways of shops, without exciting serious suspicions, I left these friendly covers, and was soon drenched thoroughly. Still on, and on, and on. The streets were alive with people going home from their work. The lamps glowed one by one at the street, corners. I began to quake inwardly at the disagreeable pros- pect before me of a gratuitous night lodging in the station- RUJBINA. 405 house, and to pluck up courage enough to ask the inmates of dwellings, "If they wished to hire a servant?" How many I inquired at I know not; I kept no account; but at each I got the same cool negative. I believe they did-not think me a servant, but some hardened character; probably a night-walker, or an associate and accomplice of burglars. "It is quite too late in the day to get a situation," ob- served one housemaid, ironically, as I turned from the door. So it was. I felt its truth, and made up my mind to wan- der about until some policeman marched me off to my night quarters. Desperate circumstances breed desperate measures and natures. I do not remember feeling shame as I walked along-unmolested as yet--only a feeling as if it was per- fectly natural that I should be there, homeless, wet to the skin, friendless, very nearly akinto a poor miserable outcast. Dbes every one, while experiencing their most wretched moments, recall, with vivid distinctness, their happiest hours . I do. I did then. Miserable as I felt-disappointed-de- ceived-ready as I was for the most desperate steps, there came before me the unbroken vista of the only happy years of my life. I saw Demis, arch, blithe and happy, as I knew her then. Mark thoughtlessly, boyishy gleeful. Mr. HIme sedately reading, or fascinating us by his free, graceful talk and magnetic manner. I experienced anew every pleasur- able fancy. I renewed every merry chat-the incidents of every walk. Every kindness, every affectionate look, every caress, returned then to comfort me. I believe it is well that it should be so; it shuts out for a brief space the pres- ent agony. * The poignancy of misery lessens, and with its ebb flows in again renewed hopefulness. I can never under- stand how one can ;commit suicide after such inner communn- ing; yet I have heard of mortals sitting then calmly down page: 406-407[View Page 406-407] 406 RUBINA. to ponder its utility--scanning the past bliss, the .present despair, to weigh accurately the causes in favor of self-de- struction, and then grasping madly at the thought of oblivion to earthly torments. I wonder at and pity them. It is so cowardly to sneak from the mastery of trouble! Yet who would be rash enough to sit at a tribunal -of human judges to sentence such a soul? It is a terrible spectacle for the angels to witness-a terrible tale for their pens to record- how a human life, endowed abundantly with longings for happiness, can be goaded'on by countless human influences to the verge of despair, and in one luckless moment plunged over it, unbidden, into the presence of his Maker and his Lord! - It seems to me that the possessor of a happy past should live for the sake of that remembrance. Thus indi- vidualized, it is a solace, sufficient to weigh to the dust the mighty, absorbing, present evil. Yet though I was in a measure comforted, it seemed to me I could feel a dim foreshadowing of the rash thoughts of those unfortunates who-the one false step taken--plunge thenceforth, with headlong velocity, into crime. Long-con- tinuecd misery feeds recklessness. Then we are none of us planted so high upon the pinnacle of purity as to be beyond the reach of temptation. The happy are no judge of this fact; but let a great love turned to blasting sorrow, a great despair sweep over them, and see how soon the foundations begin to quake, the powers of perception grow obscured, and the power of, resistance lessened. I felt that if I should be obliged to pass a week like this one day, I might follow their wayward courses; might break through the conventional- laws fencing in the good from contact with- evil. Happily, this fate was not in reserve for me. Whatever awaited me in the future, this night, at least, I was not to scour the dis- 't', RUBINA 407 mal streets, or find a sleepless rest in the quarters for the vagrant and abandoned. A mere chance turned the scale, and saved me. As I turned a corner and gazed absently down a narrow street-uncertain whether to traverse it, or to keep on my direct course-I observed a woman, leading a little girl by the hand, emerge from a bookstore, and quietly gather up her gray dress ere moving on. She opened an umbrella, too, but after going a few paces, she seemed to re- gard the effort of carrying it extended more than it was worth; for, putting out her hand and feeling only a dim sprinkle of rain or mist, she shut it down again and used it for a staff. Something whispered me-to follow them. I did so-keeping just far enough behind to hear their conversa- ion, and to watch their movements. "Be thou quiet, Helen'Mar," observed the dame, anxiously; for the child commenced to caper restlessly, and frequently attempted to break away from the maternal hand. "Thee is getting very unstable lately, I think?" she continued, placidly. "I really think thy father and I had better move into the country once more." "2Vow, what have I done?" asked the child, peevishy. "Why, thou prancest along like a race-horse, Helen Mar;. and thee always must stop to see the sights in all the shop- windows; and thee almost stcick into a hipaty-hop just now, Helen Mar," she answered, with mild severity. "I wish that I could learn to dance, like Lois Hill," re- marked Miss Helen, mischievously. "She looks like a spirit when she's dancing." "Hush thee, child!" admonished her mother. "What does thee know of spirits?" "Well, at any rate, one can't go on a jog trot all the time, can one?" inquired the child, at once bringing her easy page: 408-409[View Page 408-409] 408 RUBINA- canter into strict conformity with the good dame's ideas of propriety exemplified in her own steady gait. "'So you're a Quakeress," I thought, as I followed the plump, short figure-hushing my own footfalls to catch the sound of -her motherly exhortations. She had a pleasant voice-soft, flexible, and full of kindly intonations. "Thee should begin to consider looks. Thee is getting old enough," she remarked. "I hope thee is not going to have an irritable temper, Helen Mar. I noticed thee didn't seem over pleased with thy present." I wanted 'The Twins in the Garden, and other Tales,' ' pouted Miss. "But I never can have what I want. I heard Cousin Dolly tell thee to get me a book suitable for my age, and that one isn't,'Tm sure. I'll ask Zaccheus now." "Well, ask thy father, do. He will tell thee that there is no better book in the world than ' Silas Bridges' Life.' Thee is too young yet to know what is best for thee. I used my judgment in selecting one which will never wear out " "I wish it would, then i" cut in Helen Mar, pertly. "When thou art an aged woman," proceeded her mother, smoothly, "then thou wilt love to peruse it, and for thy youth and middle age it will be a guide unto thy feet. One of these days thou wilt think differently on these things. Thee has a great deal to learn, my child." "Mother, there's a woman following us--an awful-looking creature, too!" hastily interrupted the girl, sending a glance over her shoulder. "Ask her what she wants.' "Hush thee, daughter! Can she not walk the same pave- ment with us - She is doubtless some poor creature going home from her work," interposed the dame, in a lower tone. "Has she an umbrella, child f"I heard her ask further, Just RUBIN A. 409 then a policeman stepped to my side, and touched my shoulder. I looked around frightened. "You have followed that lady long enough," was his rough accost. "Come, what do you want of her?"' "I wished to speak to her; I am only waiting for a chance. I want to ask her for a night's lodging," I replied, fearfully. He laughed in my face coarsely, and chucked my chin. I drew back, gazing wistfully after the twain, receding slowly down the street. "Oh!" said he, skeptically, "If that's -the case, come along with me, and I'll accommodate you. You're a pretty- looking creature to speak to a lady!" "I must speak to her first," I persisted, in a: louder tone. "Then, if she won't give it to me, I will go with you." The lady, it appears, overheard this colloquy, or my earnest closing remark, for she stopped, looked around, then turned and trotted briskly up to us. "What does thee wish of me, poor woman?" she kindly asked. "Let me go with you, and I will tell you," I implored, shaking off the policeman's heavy hand. "' I am not that which he takes me for," I continued, earnestly; "Don't be afraid, madam; you need not feel obliged to keep me, after hearing my story, if you do not wish to," I urged; at which bright idea the trustyvguardian of the pave laughed.- "You'd better not keep her, madam. You'll be woefully sucked in," he declared, confidently. "I reckon I'd better save ye the trouble of hearing her story. It's allers the old. one. There's hundreds of 'em now roaming round this very spot." "I don't see any," declared the lady, looking innocently about her. 18 page: 410-411[View Page 410-411] w * ' - 0 "O . BxINA. "Poh!"' was his scornful rejoinder. She looked searchingly in his face, as she asked: "What he intended to do with me, provided she refused to take me herself?" "Oh, I'll lock her up safe enough for one night. It'll be a kindness to her, and to all the rest of 'em, if one could do it," he callously answered. "I'm not one of those," I said, flushing indignantly. "For once you are mistaken." "May'be so," he returned,: ironically. "I've no time to dispute it; but good people don't roam the streets in this fashion. I've watched you for three hours and over. This one come from the country," he added, to the lady. "At any rate, thee shall go home with me," said she, quickly. *'My door is not too good to open. to anybody. Thee need waste no more words about so slight a matter ;" and she signalled me to follow her. "As you like, of course, ma'am," observed the watchman, moving away indifferently. As we walked along, I told my story. When it was ended, she brightened up considerably, and said, heartily: "I'm glad I met thee. Thou didst not tell me thy name." "Rubina Brooks." 'Well, Rubina, thee need worry no more-to-night, at least. Thou canst stay with me and mine; and this, not be- cause thou hast proven thyself better than I expected--" "I haven't proved myself at all," I ventured to observe. "Well, I believe thee, Rubina, as much as if thou hadst; I know when anybody is lying. Thou art not a liar." "I hope not," I scdid, fervently. "But if thou art a poor unfortunate, thee can stay undei my roof, likewise, and we will see what can be done for thee RUBINA. 4" after to-morrow. Zaccheus will relish that," observed the dame, with sweet Christian charity. "Zaccheus is my hus. band," she continued; " and this is our daughter; and this is our home." She looked up at the row of cheerfully light- ed windows. "Come right in," she added, with hospitable eagerness, while ascending the broad stone steps, and looking over her shoulder, to see if I was obeying literally the injunc- tion. There was little fear of my running from the cheery prospect of such safe harborage, after a day of such despair- ing, drifting on cheerless uncertainty; with such miserable thoughts, such skeleton fears for company. She placed her umbrella in one corner compactly, then treated the mahogany bell-knob t'o a placid pull. After a moment of waiting, a slippered tread sounded in the entry; then some fumbling of the key in the lock ensued, and the unsliding of a bolt, with a sharp, sudden click; then the door swung slowly open, just enough to show us a man's face and form, peering out at us. It was a muscular form, though greatly bowed, either with grief or physical infirmity, for his years could -not have exceeded fifty. The broad shoulders bent nearly double. They supported a pale, wrinkled face; but kindly looking; with a pair of dark gray eyes, humorous and pathetic by turns, one moment flashing with keen apprecia- tion of some witty repartee, the next-looming down their dark centres into your very soul, with -a kind of sorrowful pity at the chance discovery of any troubled thought lurking there. The thin, red lips one might disown. The straight, stern, inflexible nose; the high, narrow forehead; the un- graceful form. But those eyes one could never watch a day without growing to love their shifting, intelligent expression, without cleaving to the sympathetic soul flashing fitfully through them. Of course I did not discern all this, did not page: 412-413[View Page 412-413] "2 RUBINiA. draw these conclusions, while waiting out on those cold rain- splashed door-steps; they were after-thoughts in the acquaint- ance which followed this night's introduction. There, I 'only thought of getting to the light and heat within, to warm my aching, shivering bones at the glowing wood fire I heard crackling and roaring away in the parlor. He stepped back hastily on seeing who it was that rang, and laughed. "Oh! it's thee, is it, Judith? 'Thee's done thy shopping in right speedy fashion," was his quaint greeting, in a sweet silvery voice, as the lady entered. Helen Mar and myself filed in after her. "Why, did thee think 'twas a Sabbath-day's journey to Klipstoues and back, pray tell me!" was the good-humored retort, as she delivered into his hand a small-sized brown paper parcel, with the further inquiry: "' Wilt thou take that, and tell me what thee thinks of it? Helen Mar wishes thy opinion on my purchase." She turned and looked at the girl, as if now was the time for her to present her former objections, that they might be done away with by the im- partial judge before her. "I'm contented enough with it," rather sullenly observed Miss Helenr,eying the parcel askance,- as her prudent father patiently picked out the knot in the twine, rolled it up com- pactly, tucked it in his side-pocket, shook out the creased corners of the enveloping paper, then took a seat on the sofa, smoothed the paper over his knees, folded and handed it to i his wife, who stood before him watching these proceedings with apparent interest, and glancing, from time to time, at her daughter. She looked as if it was the bitter thing that her past sorrow should be thus revived when it had nearly worn itself away. RUBINA. 413 "The Life and Religious Experience of the Rev. Silas Bridges,"' read her father, slowly, from the title-page. "Tru- ly a good selection, Judith," he pronounced, approvingly, turning a long look at the marbled covers and cleanly cut leaves. "Thee had an eye to thy own profit, Judith, I con- clude. Don't thee like it, Helen Mar? Was that thy moth- er's meaning?" he presently asked. She was silent, and be- gan to chew her bonnet-strings into a round ball- occasion- ally pulling them from her mouth to note the progress she was making in this exemplary matter. "Why, what is the matter with it?" asked her father, quaintly. "Nothing," was Miss's perverse answer. "Then thee'll take it, read it, and profit by it, and keep it on thy shelf for reference," remarked her smiling sire, making her a formal presentation. She flared directly. "I don't want it; I won't read it; I shan't have it on my shelf. I hate old Silas Bridges!" screamed Miss, passionately, aban- doning the mastication of brown lutestring, and sinking a stormy heap on the entry floor. "Look there, will thee, Zaccheus!" exclaimed her mother, despairingly. "Oh, hush thee, child!" she repeated, mildly, again and again. "' Thee'll make thyself downsick "--sur- veying in meek astonishment the fast-dropping flood. Not so her father. He dropped the unconscious cause of them, stooped, lifted her tenderly, in spite of her kicks and screams, and planted her on his knee. He removed the little wet hands; he drew down the little drenched, prumpled apron from the tear-stained face, and surveyed it curiously. Then he pretended to seek all over the apron for a dry spot; hav- ing found a tiny corner, he wiped with it the streaming eyes, and sighed, ludicrously. This made Helen laugh hysteric- page: 414-415[View Page 414-415] "4 RUBINA. . ally, in 'which merriment her father good-naturedly joined- prolonging the chuckle until Helen caught it up, and again repeated it. "Never mind, Judith," he said,' good-humor- edly, as his wife picked up the little quilted bonnet, and sur- veyed its crushed proportions in mute dismay. "There." He straightened her bent form with his kindly palms-she evincing a:marked desire to rest her comforted head on her father's bosom. He gathered both tiny dimpled hands in his own: his magnetism charmed away sorrow. -4 That's father's little lady; now tell father all about it." The "little lady" seemed to have now no grief to unbur- den. She looked quite pacified, thoroughly delighted, and supremely content. She turned on him a beaming smile, whispering something confidentially. He replied with a like confidence, and at its close she bounded from her perch, picked up the despised volume, and ran off with it. "That's just like Zaccheus," placidly remarked the dame, turning towards me. "Oh! I forgot," she added, in a re- pentant tone; " and that's just like me. Zaccheus, this is Rubina Brooks. I met herout here, and invited her to spend the night with us. Only think, Zaccheus, she was out in all this rain, and she must come immediately and get some dry garments on." She seized my cold hand, and led me off to her own room; brought out one of her own quaint dresses, ripped out in deft fashion a broad tuck to enable me to wear it more comfortably, and almost ere I knew it, I had under- gone a nice warm bath, and stood forth a somewhat spectral- looking Quakeress. Then my hostess appeared, to lead me to the parlor, where-before me-she told her husband ex- actly what I had said to her in the street. lie shook my hand, cordially ; drew a stuffed rocking-chair before the fire - -the same fire that sounded to me- from the door with such e- RUBINA. . 415 a sense of welcome in its leaping flames-inviting me to be seated. Then he drews one opposite, for himself, and began to talk in a gentle voice of various things-current topics of the day-never once alluding to my vagrant condition, but treating me precisely on the footing of an expected, welcome guest. Meanwhile his wife trotted nimbly from this room to an inner one, preparing tea. I found pleasure in watching her. "You keep no domestic," thought I, as I saw her lift the iron kettle on the hob, replenish the fire, and perform various other menial offices, occasionally assisted by her husband, who, in the midst of his kindly talk, yet was ever on the watch to serve her. - She drew out a little round table, spread a snowy cloth over it, placed thereon some delicate china, a roll of ba- ker's bread, a plate of cakes, a glass dish of preserved fruit, and called us to partake of it. The fare, though'simple, was excellent. The tea strengthened and refreshed me. As the evening waned, I felt more and more at home. It seemed the most natural thing in life to be there; my weary spirit had at last found a congenial rest. Zaccheus and Judith were old friends. Even Helen Mar, pretty, arch, and wilful, rest- ed very near to the groping tendrils of my affections, as she came to my side and imprinted her crimson lips on mine for a good-night kiss, ere being whisked away to her repose by the mild, decided dame. I Shortly after followed her to a similar cot in a tiny whitewashed cell, with one little win- dow looking out upon I knew not what prospect-a sanded floor, a small, square stand with drawers, a stool covered with carpeting, a chest covered with large flowered chintz, and a low rocking-chair with an ample netted tidy. "I hope thee will sleep well. Thee must remember thy dreams: they will come to pass, thee knows. Good-night, Rubina," was page: 416-417[View Page 416-417] "6 RUBINA. my kind hostess's farewell, as she looked in upon me, just as my eyelids were wearily closing in slumber. I dreamed that night of innumerable things, all pleasant. Gay shapes and bright colors danced airy mazourkas across the border-land of unconscious thought. I smiled at them benignly, applauding their wildest fantasies, and floated off on a radiaht sea of delight-fraught with a blissful sense that, in some way, I had reached home at last; that my troubled life had all been a dream; that I was yet in my father's house; the sweet -gates of unthinking infancy not yet closed upon me. Only a child's cares of a day to shake off-the unfailing burden of the pilgrim waiting for me very, very far off, on the shores of my woman's life. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE Sabbath came round to this Quaker household full of peace. No aching sense of the duty, the absolute, unresting need of going to church. Only a calm, unprofessional wor- ship of the serenely poised minds. Zaccheus and Judith, it is true, went off to their " meeting," in the afternoon. Hel- en Mar remained at home with me, for the most part becom- ingly quiet; only once or twice threatening to run riot over the sacred stillness of the day. As I rocked in the easy-chair, and read Helen's despised present, I could not help contrast- ing this day with the one of a week previous; the retrospec- tion ending with a summoning of thankful verdicts in the present's favor, and a hope that this might be the precursor of many similar ones. I wondered what Mrs. Selwyn thought RUBIXA; 417 of my disappearance. I was pondering these things, when my host and hostess returned, and inquired kindly "How IT. had enjoyed myself." They seemed childishy pleased and gratified with my answer, and in the evening they fell to talk- ing of what they could do for me. ", Mrs. Bates has been wanting a governess, but she left last week for Philadelphia," thoughtfully remarked Judith. She insisted on my calling them by their Christian names. Helen Mar frequently thus addressed them, and they never seemed to think it disrespectful or improper. "Yes, and she won't be back this year," added Zaccheus. "C Suppose we keep her ourselves, Judith. Helen Mar needs a teacher, sorely." "Thee don't seem to consider the expense," mildly re- sponded his wife. "I will gladly teach her for a home until I can do better,' I here observed. "Thee knows that our will is good enough, Rubina; but we are not at all gifted with worldly favors," observed Judith, anxiously. "Zaccheus never thinks. I verily be- lieve that he does not know we are poor," she added, with a smile. He laughed. Thus it was quietly settled. I did not think a better situa- tion likely to offer itself immediately. I had come down a decided step now in my mental calculations, and, instead of the extravagant promises of Hope, I began to pluck the sober premises of -Reason. The green glimpses disappeared from my road, and showed me the white line of sun-baked dust beyond. I liked my benefactors better and better with the close of every day; they were so thoroughly warm-hearted and ge- nial; so fond of doing good, and so .unostentatious in their 18 page: 418-419[View Page 418-419] 4A10 RUBINA. mode of doing it. They, were deeply imbued with the char- itable, self-sacrificing spirit of true religion, and never, while I was an inmate of. their home, did I hear either speak evil of. one of their neighbors. Chastity glows-a bright star without profession; so also does true religion, They made no profession of piety. "We are fond of our meeting," was their frequent remark; but they neither expected nor exacted my attendance, or passed strictures on the faith of other worshippers. I went with them a few times, bu t I did not like their "meeting." The stiff, silent rows of men and women, sitting opposite each other like statues; the long hour of- dead silence, unbroken by a prayer or psalm, during which they listened to the whisperings of "The Spirit," and--inaudibly to other ears than their own-received and gathered to their hearts His preached revelations; the re- buking stare, if one moved from weariness, were to me inex- pressibly irksome. When one of the brethren, or a pale, sweet-faced sister, was moved- by the Holy Ghost, and con- strained to expound these wondrous revelations, I could not but feel interested. But these cases were rare, and the silent meetings many, so I gradually came to spend my Sundays at home with my pupil. She was quite too restless to be allowed often to accompany her parents. She flounced around on the benches in such unorthodox fashion as to seriously discompose the placidity of the Elders, and to disturb their feelings of de- votion; paying no heed to the gentle shakes of the fawn- colored bonnets around her, or the frowns of the broad- brims. She was gentle and docile enough with me, land the Sundays which we spent together were the pleasantest of my life-delicious bits of dreaminess inserting themselves between weeks of thought and study, just as a day of joy oft- -RUBINA. 41i times stands out a bright mosaic on the black enamel of other days of sorrowful gloom. The Hoveys were not demonstrative people. Little by little you grew into their confidence. Then they made no fuss about their friendship. They told you a secret as quietly as they would have spoken of an ordinary domestic concern; never putting your fidelity to the doubt by exact- ing a promise of keeping it. If they honored. you by their friendship, you were supposed worthy of it; and all con- trary implication would by them have been deemed an in- sult. Theirs had been a love-tnatch-an elopement; although their sober years laughed down in incredulity this primitive fact. Judith told!ne this one day. "He was poor, then," she said, "and my parents were well off, and they were dreadfully opposed-to it. His folks were Hicksites, and no less opposed to the match; so it run along for a long, long time, and finally we came to the conclusion that we would consult our own minds, and one night-it was dark as Egypt --I up and. out of the window. Zaccheus Hovey was wait- ing for me there, thee may well believe, and we embraced and ran off together. Thee would have done the same, Rubina, if thee had loved himr as well as I did. Well, I have never had reason to regret it, friend. That I can truly say." "' What did your parents say?"I asked. "Oh! they never overlooked it in us. They turned us out of the meetings; but as we were away, we did not mind. Happiness is better than meetings, Rubina. Besides, it was a common thing; why, they turned my Aunt Rachel Hussy out because she went to hear the *Hicksites preach. Her sister went too, but they did not deal with her, on account of her young family. Aunt Rachel hadjno children. That was a great while ago. They are all gone now. I did long page: 420-421[View Page 420-421] 420 RUBINA. to-be reconciled to thein first, but I have never been back there since we left that night. Zaccheus has, but they didn't know him. 'Twas after the rheumatism left him as he is now; and he is changed in other things besides that; but his heart is just the same as ever, and though I cannot with truth say, friend, that we are any richer in worldly goods than we were then, yet we have enough and to spare, and thee knows enough is as good as a feast." "A contented mind is a perpetual feast, we are told," I said, smiling. "Zaccheus has made me contented," she remarked, naively. "I used to fret some at the ways of Providence. He never frets-his disposition is so even. He accepts sorrows in the same thankful spirit as he does blessings; as part of the Lord's dispensations to us, and necessary for our spiritual growth. Our eldest boy was stricken by lightning; they brought him in to me black and lifeless. I felt very rebel- lious for a season, but he never uttered a groan of discontent. I felt sore wroth for a long time after our next son died--our little Harvey-the merriest lad that ever blessed a mother's love. He was kicked by a horse, and died in the greatest agony. Zaccheus wept for his sufferings, but after they were over, and he lay still and cold in his little coffin, he raised up his voice and gave thanks. Rubina, I couldn't. I'm loath to say it; it was wicked; it was very unkind; but I turned and left the room while he was- speaking. I -went off by myself and tried to pray. I couldn't; I could only curse. Oh! it's terrible to think of now.' She shivered at the recollection. "But I did., I actually cursed my Maker. Zaccheus found me afterfa time, raving away there in the garret. Well, Rubina, thee thinks he was displeased with me, and rebuked me loudly. Nay, child. 'He gathered RUBINA. 421 me in his arms, like as the heavenly Shepherd gathereth his little lambs homeward, and wept with me till I grew soothed and comforted. I told him, then, of my sin; how I had cursed the Saviour. 'Thee can do him no harm, my poor Judith,' he said, calmly. 'Thy cursing will not move him one jot, or one tittle, till all his law be fulfilled. Let us praise him, and let him do as seemeth him good. He knows best what is good for us, and needful for our salvation.' Well, friend, I was strengthened by his exhortations-Zac- cheus has a great gift of counsel-and I ceased to mourn. But not for long, for the Lord called me soon to give up my sole remaining son--my Reuben; and again I rebelled. I turned my heart against him, and locked it up in steely ire, and I thirsted greedily for revenge. I wanted to smite him, even as he had smitten me; I ceased to pray myself, and 1 would not hear Zaccheus pray either. After a while he placed before me two pictures. One was little Reuben lying dead in his little- cot; and another was a man, grim and hardened looking, swinging from the gallows. 'It might have been that. .Which would thee have-it be, Judith?' he said, kindly, and I gave up the lad willingly from that very hour; for I would rather bear children to become cherubs in the Lord's mansions on high, than sinful culprits on earth. I see the wisdom now," said she. "Worldly joys were fast deaden- ing my moral sensibility. Any thing pleasant I drank with eager relish. God sent these trials to rouse me and place my erring steps straight. Was it his fault that I was stub- born and dull, and needed a repetition? All lessons, Rubina, have their price; but thee knows, when rightly earned, they are repaid by their own value." She paused and wiped her eyes. "You have seen trouble, indeed," I remarked, pityingly. page: 422-423[View Page 422-423] 422 RUBINLA. "'Twas a long time after this when Helen Mar was born," she resumed, placidly. "I besought the Lord to let me keep this one olive-branch; for I began to think that our bereave- ments were a judgment upon us for the sin of disobedience to our parents' wishes. The Lord is merciful, and waiting to be gracious, Rubina. He graciously inclined his ear unto my request. But 'the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked :' I think now I am willing to submit to his will, whatever it may be, but I cannot be sure. I might be worse than ever, should she be removed far from me. I cannot bear to think of it; though Zaccheus would not be troubled. His hope and foundations are sure; my feet slip continually in the mire of selfishness, and threaten to bury me forever. Then my husband's strength is my shield ahd deliverance: he intercedes for me, and saves me from my worst enemy-myself." She paused, her sweet face glowing with noble enthusiasm. "You felt just as I should feel," I said, presently. "-Doubtless, friend," she answered. "-Human nature is so very feeble. Our lives, at best, are but a dreary mixture of fraud to our best selves, and deceit to others. Our aims, perhaps, are high enough, and pure enough, but toward their attainment, through what deeps of selfish motives we wal- low-in what treacherous quagmires of self-deception we stick fast! Is such fruit the offering we should bring heavenward? Is not the motive-power that which our Maker regards, rather than deeds or words? These latter shrivel and fade away in the presence of Omniscience. They are mere worthless dust and ashes beclouding our deeper, purer, more spiritual na- tures." "Is it wrong, then, to mourn our losses!"I asked in sur- prise. W 4 RnrBIA. 423 "No; but to wrestle with, to resist the divine will, to re- fuse consolation when he sends it in abundance, is, and ever must be, wrong, Rubina. Let us first purge our hearts into purity, and divine succor will reach us, will draw us up into a state of religfous submission. It was long in com- ing to me, but it has come-unless I am again deceived; and time only will decide that." Zaccheus asked me one day for the street and number of Mrs. Selwyn's residence. I gave it, and he returned shortly afteir with my trunk. I was eager to know the exact nature of his reception, but he would tell me nothing except that he saw none of the inmates but Madame, and that she anath- ematized me, warmly. "It will do no good to me to repeat her words; or for. thee to hear them. Let it all drop into forgetfulness," he said, gravely. "She is a poor, sinful soul, and merits pity rather than scorn." He broke short off, and began to speak of Helen Mar's progress in study. "I think she is bright enough," he began, " but she sadly needs disci- pline; eh, Rubina?" "I anticipate no difficulty in that respect," I hastened to say. - "She is remarkably gentle, so far, and quite beyond her years in her acquirements, or else my experience in teach- ing has been among children as much deficient in those stud- ies where she excels. She seems eager to learn, in spite of her restlessness. I observe that she cannot be coaxed to sit long at any one study; the monotony seems to irk her. So I vary them; give her a bit of one to learn, then a copy to write, or a sentence to analyze, or a few words to spell. This suits her; she remarked at the close of yesterday, that it did not seem long in the least." In fact, we soon grew into warm friends.. A more affec- tionate, merry, wilful child I never saw. She never was af- . . page: 424-425[View Page 424-425] Ru BINA. fected into the least quiescence with her sober surroundings. It was impossible to be lonely or sad when she was, by; she soon kissed away the melancholy-never resting until smiles or a hearty laugh crowned her efforts. Her mother often de- clared that " her clatter was too abominable to be borne ;" but her contradictory smile, as she said it, proved plainly how quickly the sunshine would vanish from home should the clatter" prematurely cease. She purloined my letters from her father's overcoat pocket, immediately upon his en- trance into the little hall, and standing seriously before -me, as I sat at work, would roguishly wonder if I had " not sew- ed enough; I was pricking my fingers so dreadfully." Then, when I raised my eyes to see the origin of her anxious care, the quick sparkle of her deep blue eyes was sufficient be- trayal, and I would peremptorily order its delivery. This she always refused until I had made over my implements of la- bor into her custody, to be hidden beyond my reach for the entire day. My letters were all from Annah: though I heard once from Mr. Hume. It bore the Northfield postmark, where he was again sojourning. He expressed much surprise at my absence; wondered that I had not consulted his inclinations, "so plainly expressed," and renewed his " hope that I was now willing to listen to the guidance of a superior judgment; there was a limit to even his forbearance." Stung at his un- warrantable tone, I replied bitterly. To. this I got no answer, and I endeavored to reason down the pain I felt rising at this sign of indifference or scorn, by the old, worn-out reflec- tion of Northfield days: ' It is much better so; we are, on some points, and must ever be, both in speaking and writing, continually at variance." It was yet potent, but would it always prove thus salutary ? Even now, at times, I blamed myself severely, that I could not, or would not, advance one step, and stretch forth my hand to pluck-regret slyly whis- pered-the flowers of happiness. "And why should your will be paramount to peace ?" added the same monitor; "why should ardent dreams of a progressive future mar the await- ing bliss of the present You say that a union with him will be the death of your spirit's advancement; will dwarf every expanding faculty, and crown your whole nature with dishonor. Silly fool! his is a better creed. He says that woman has no need of progress. Believe him! He declares that woman's life is abundantly satisfied with daily crumbs doled out by its master's stronger hands. Accept the decla- ration, and bless the generous giver for this scanty fare! If, in this submission, you miss the excitement of the battle of life, the long struggle, the hand-to-hand combat, and the strength which flows from victory-will you not likewise es- cape its harassing cries, its torturing stings, sheltered and folded safe and close in the remote harbor of his love? If you lose the voice of the world's praise, will you not also escape its dangers " And after listening thus to her soft persuasions-far oftener, reader, than I care to tell-will would rise up, scornfully; shake.them off peremptorily: "If in combat and victory there is strength, then I, too, will battle in it. If in unrestrained knowledge there lurks sweet- ness, then I, too, will taste it. The dregs of no master's cup will I drain. I will have no crumbs from his table. Despite 'woman's destiny,' the fountain is open for me as well as you; and so, my would-be lord, farewell." Alas ! that to some farewells there shbuld attach the bitterness of death. Annah's letfers showed plainly that she was not happy, though she never stated thus broadly this fact. The record of her first week in school was full of plaintive misery. I page: 426-427[View Page 426-427] RUBINA. fully comprehended her sufferings, and wept over them. Then I read it to Helen, whose eyes glowed with tremulous pity. From Annah's letter I gathered that Millicent walked with her to school, at her father's express desire-but van- ished through the entry leading to the school-room, ere An- nah could clearly see where she was going. Then she open- ed the green baize door, and timidly entered, only to meet and shrink from the united stare of three hundred pairs of eyes suddenly levelled at her. "I hardly knew any thing," wrote she ;- I felt so ashamed, standing there all alone, and I didn't see any vacant seats. Then I saw Milly, away at the other end of the room, whispering to a big, ugly girl, who looked at me and laughed. The girls near me began to gig- gle and hide their faces in their books, and to peep at me from behind them. Not one offered to move along and give me a seat. It was a very large room, with wooden desks around the sides, and rows of benches. A great stove stood in the centre, red hot, and a square table, painted green, stood not far from it, covered with books, at which sat a lady. I don't know how long I stood there before she saw me; long enough to see every thing in the room, even to the sums in chalk on the long blackboard. At length one of the girls laughed a little too loud; the teacher turned hastily and saw me. She came forward, and asked me if I was a new scholar. ' Yes, ma'am,' I said, feeling ready to cry-at which answer, the girls smiled again and looked at each other. 'Come this way and I will give you a seat,' she said, kindly; and she found me a vacant desk, and brought a book for the morning lesson. 'Did you come alone ?' she asked, in alow tone. I told her just how it was, Ruby, and she nodded, and went away; but after the recitation was over, she called Milly out before the green table and publicly rebuked her. I felt sorry for her then, but I got over it afterward, for she told her mother such a story about me. She won't walk to school with me now, nor hardly ever notices me when there. She came along just now, and asked me who I was writing to. I told her, and she wanted to read it. I wouldn't let her, and she was angry directly. 'I suppose you have been set- ting me out nicely to your sister,' said she; 'ain't you asham- ed of it ? You are nothing but a dependent; I tell the girls so too.' " There was much more -in the same strain. The whole letter was a recital of petty yet stinging slights and insults, requiring ready, sympathetic care. I wrote an imme- diate answer which I hoped might prove an antidote. This was the precursor of many such. During this year her letters were nearly all of this stamp-dotted with pleasant oases of warm affection for her few friends. She made fre- quent mention of Milly and Edward's sayings; their sarcas- tic attempts to entertain her; and then she dispatched the glad news that they seemed to repent of their unkindness, and relented their teasing. " I am contented now," wrote this sweet, simple soul, ' for I never knew how to answer them back. I don't think they will trouble me any more." I was glad too; but the next bulletin confounded the rumor. I quote her words: "They invited me to ride with them last week for the first time. I thought it a wonderful change ingrafting itself on their con- duct, and I was full of delight. I sat on the back seat with Millicent. Edward sat with the driver. It was very plea- sant for a while, though Millicent said nothing to me. She would lean forward at intervals to drop a remark to Edward, or to laugh at his jokes with the driver. Edward is a coarse fellow. I don't like him. When she did so, she would glance superciliously at me to see if I was watching her, and page: 428-429[View Page 428-429] 428 ERUBINA. if I didn't smile at what he was saying she curled her lip in disdain. I didn't care. I didn't mind it at all. It was pleasure enough for me to watch the people in the streets; to feel the swift motion of the carriage and to know that I was'having a ride-the first and last since I have been here. Aunt and Milly ride almost daily; but they never ask me to go. Presently the sky grew cloudy; then it grew darker and began to sprinkle, and the -driver turned around for home. Then it rained violently. Edward sprang hurriedly over the seat. ' Do you mind changing places with me, Miss Hannah?--he always calls me Hannah, as well as Milly-he said, insolently; at the same time taking my hand to pull me up. I hesitated; for I liked neither the tone nor the re- quest. I began to see why I had come-to be the subject of fresh sport for them. Then Millicent spoke up in her cool way, and said, smiling: ' Why don't you go, child?'-I am as old as herself--' can't you see that he wants to sit by me, you fool?' she whispered in my ear; and so-I was a downright fool to do it, Ruby-without saying a word, I clambered over the seat and took his place. Of course, I was soon wetted through; although Miles-who looked sour and cross enough at them-did his best to keep the rain off me. He pulled up the boot high, and tucked his own over- coat around me; but for all that I was soaking wet when we reached home. I didn't care for that; but it was rather too mean to laugh at me, as they did. I heard them giggle and whisper behind me, and Miles did too. He whipped the horses all the harder for it. Once I heard him mutter some- thing about; that damned little whiffet of a puppy.' Aunt Lucas met us in the hall. She never looked at me. 'Oh! Milly, I was afraid you would get wet,' she said, anxiously, feeling of her clothes to see if they were damp. ' Such rain RUBINA. 429 I never saw before! How lucky you were!' The rain ran from my garments in tiny drips; my bonnet was ruined; I was cold and miserable. But nobody noticed it. I was suffered to gather up py sodden skirts and pick my way up stairs to my own little room, where, but for your well-re- membered words of love at our parting, I should have sunk to the floor disheartened, and prayed to die. Don't laugh, sister; I did a far wiser thing. I took off my streaming garments; I bound up my dripping hair, and went to bed, to sleep and dream of you, Ruby; of you and our little home, which looks so far-so dreadfully far away in the dim future. I can see it yet, however. It lures me to make every effort to reach it. I have both good news and bad with which to finish up this letter. ' I have been promoted in my classes; I am to play at the coming examination, and I shall take singing lessons next quarter. I think the teach- ers like me, for I never laugh at them, and some of the young ladies do. They say I make remarkable progress in music. Now for the bad: I caught a slight cold after my ride 'last week; but it is nothing dangerous, so you must not wcrry. It is only a slight huskiness, which will soon wear ofi I should not have mentioned it, but for my promise to tell you every thing." A year and a half of effort, and no nearer the goal-my brightly cherished, fast becoming impossible, goal-but none the less cherished for that gloomy vista. I was still at Mr. Hovey's-Helen Mar's teacher. Through these friends' ex- ertions five more day pupils were added to my school, and Judith allowed me the use of their one front room as a school-room. My prospects thus began to brighten a little, until I found, at the close of this second year, that my for- tune barely sufficed to clothe Annah and myself-leaving a page: 430-431[View Page 430-431] 480 . RUBINA. shrunken purse and the renewal of exertion to begin the next round of hope upon. "Never mind," I suggested, as disappointment tugged too heavily at my heartstrings. "I must try to find something else to do to eke out my slender income; and in the mean time I must assiduously cultivate patience." Annah's letters- were my comfort. They told me that her old tormentor, Edward, was no more seen at the Lucas's; his place was usurped by a rival. "You can't guess who," wrote she; "' so to ease your suspense I. will come to the point at once. It's the schoolmaster; our old fi:iend, Mr. Hume. It seems very curious that he should, turn up here Milly's lover. - She says he is. He is vastly improved in person and address since Northfield days, though, of course, I knew him directly Be made a miserable pretence of not recognizing me, eo- pressing considerable surprise at the introduction. He cer- tainly does not like to see me around; never speaksr to, me if he can avoid it. I don't'know why; he used to notice me a great deal; we were excellent friends, as I weth emem- ber. At any rate, I don't trouble him much with my pre- sence.- Am I an eyesore, sister? Sometimes, when Aunt and Milly are not by, he treats me better. Sometimes he says such unaccountable things, I don't know what he means; I dare not tell Uncle John, and none of the others would believe me-but I never answer him. If he was not a min- ister, Ruby-but I am foolish to write you all this, and so I shall say no more. Milly joined his church last Sunday. He. is settled here as a minister. One more year and I shall be through my studies. I confess I am all impatience for the time to vanish; but it moves, to my thinking, on crippled wings. I cannot yet sing.; the huskiness does not leave my yvoice, and -I cannot account for it. I cough none; I feel RUBINA. 431 well. I am well-and I can play if I cannot sing-so I en- deavor to be content. Milly had a Christmas present this year- a fine piano. I do so enjoy it. She is taking lessons on the harp, and Uncle John urged-me to begin also; but I shall attempt no morn than I can bring to perfection-a piece of wisdom I owe to you, my Ruby. I. think of you con- stantly in the intervals of study. I weep for you, too, in secret, and pray for you'; would that it could lessen or lighten your toil. 'I do long to see you. Nearly two long years without even a glimpse. Come to me soon; do, do; come, if only for a day, or let .me go to see you. Uncle' John frequently speaks of you, and says, 'it is time she made us a long visit.' I think so too; so, please your lady- ship, regard it as a doxology duty, and not to be shirked any longer." I considered this plea for a whole day; but decided that as I was in the middle of a term, the visit must wait longer. I wrote this much to Annah-adding, that if she liked to venture on a trip to see wme, instead, I should be delighted to see her. It was fall six weeks ere I got an answer. This was a brief kind note from Uncle John-: "Annah was very sick. They thought it a slight illness at first-not necessary to rouse my fears; but,she was growing worse, and called for me constantly. Would H start immediately? and not be frightened, as there was every reason to hope for her ulti- mate recovery." "Would I start?"I repeated, bitterly. Of course I would. I got ready without the delay of a moment. I put my things together as in a dream; making unnecessary journeys from garret to cellar after I knew not what, until waylaid by Judith, who followed me very motherly, and asked what I page: 432-433[View Page 432-433] 432 RUBINA. wanted. She watched me anxiously at first; then took pity on my distracted state of mind, and helped me to collect my wits when they went staggering, by dropping kind, placid observations. I heard her gratefully and assented, but came directly to the old topic. Dear reader, have you ever noticed, when laboring in the mire of a heavy sorrow, or pressed down by an overwhelm- ing care, how the mind shrinks suddenly from its former ex- pansion, and keeps on narrowing, contracting, shutting in its walls upon itself, until the one grievous thought stands isolated there from'all contact with sympathy? There it reigns su- preme-not the less a burden that it is a kingly one-and looks out upon the gay, happy world around its sphere in wonder. Consolation! Who speaks of consolation?"Go away-away! leave me alone; do not speak to me!" it says, in its secret cell. "Your words sound strangely; so widely short of the mark; so unfeeling. What do you know of that which I feel? Leave me to myself." So sounded Judith's efforts to console me, as she folded my dresses, gathered my books together, and zealously pre- pared jellies and cordials in a neat little box, for me to take. "It 'may not be as bad as thee thinks, dearest friend," she said, with genuine pity softening her voice. "Don't thee go to borrowing of trouble. He is a hard paymaster, and will dun thee sorely." I smiled absently, "Now thee shall keep thy pupils. I will speak to their parents this very night. Thee will find every thing all right and ready for thy hand when thee comes back to us." I groaned inwardly. "What did I then care for pupils? What if she should die? He said she was very sick," I whispered, in terror; then shrank quivering from the boldly expressed fear. RUBINA. 433 "She will not die, Rubina, unless the Lord wills it," said Judith, gently. "He holds thee in the hollow of his hand. Rely on him and be comforted." Her simple faith was a torture. "Die and leave me," I apathetically repeated, going away from my sweet, would- be comforter. Oh! she cannot. She never would of her own accord, and heaven will not be thus cruel. Just now, when a thread of light begins to streak my labors; when the long separation seems, about to draw to a close. No; it cannot be. Yet, what should tempt me to dream otherwise? What have I ever done to merit forbearance? What have I loved that He has not ruthlessly taken? Friends wither from my grasp, like new-mown hay under the sun's fierce glare. Must idols always be broken? I asked again and again, with bitter tears. I am stricken; render me not utterly desolate. "My life is a famine in the midst of abun- dance; feed and succor it, or cut-it off entirely," I prayed, "for, as it is, it but cumbereth the soil with weeds." Zaccheus took me to the depot. 'I saw the cars steam like a roaring lion up to the station. I went in; took me- chanically the first seat which offered itself, and meekly suffered Zaccheus to place me in a better, at his gentle sug- gestion. I felt his kind parting hand-clasp, and heard, as though it was an echo afar off, his low, musical "Good-by, friend God guide and speed-thee safely!" and was vaguely conscious of being borne onward by a mighty force, which yet lagged remorselessly-leagues behind my onward speed- ing thoughts and fears. It was foolish and useless, of course, to try to quicken our pace by repeating, mentally, all the exclamations of impatient teamsters, to goad on their tired steeds; but over and over I sounded them, until Hfound one of the passengers curiously regarding me. I had no fancy 19 m page: 434-435[View Page 434-435] O4 RU BT to be thought insane. I considered that I might really become so, if I allowed my fears so.,to influence me. I en- deavored for the rest of the way to zealously keep my eyes on outside objects. Fields, fences, trees, brief lovely glimpses of the river, and cool suburban residences met my stare and vanished. .Precipitous rocky ledges, sandy banks shelving -down to the track, down which children, freckled, bonnet- less and hatless, put their bare, brown feet, and recklessly slid. I hoped, heartlessly, that we might run over a few by way of excitement; but they were too used to the sport to be capable of fear, and they sent after us merry shouts of defiance. Then the city began to send along its highways straggling indications of its nearness; tall, narrow dwellings, and -the absence of court-yards. And finally; we rumbled, and whistled, and steamed in at the long covered depot. Annah was too ill to know me when I reached the house. Uncle John took me up to her room at once. Aunt Hannah sat by the bedside, fanning her. She greeted me quite warmly, and seemed relieved to abandon her post. I paid no heed to -her lengthy explanation of the manner of her attack, or to her dreary recital of symptoms. It was suffi- cient to know and feel that she lay helpless before me. I only cared to know the nature of the medicines on the table, and the hours in which to administer them. I felt cool and calm as I summoned my energies to their work. "No aban- donment to weakening emotions now," I said, desperately, as I lifted the emaciated form into a more comfortable pos- ture; throwing out the heated pillows and substituting cool fresh ones. She was delirious; and raved constantly of her school, her studies.. Then she vented her vexation that she could not master the piece of music before her, in terms of heart-rending, impatience? Anon she moaned wearily, and RUBINA ;435 called plaintively for "Ruby; Sister Ruby; my sister. Why don't you bring her to me?8 You keep her shut up in that dark hole all day, and no light creeps in to her, as she sews, sews, sews, and works, works, works, and I want her. I want her, I tell you, and I will have her too. She is mine, I say. What do the dragons want of her, that they creep and crawl around her so . I wish I could kill them; but I cannot. Oh! 'dear, dear." The weak arm fell powerless on the quilt. I watched with her alone. In the morning Milly came in, rather constrainedly offering to remain in the sick- room while I went down to breakfast. Accordingly I left her. How gloomy the great rooms looked below, as I softly journeyed through them on my way to the basement! A death-like hush seemed to settle on every chair, table, and cornice. The gorgeous curtains draped 'the windows like solemn palls prematurely falling before a too vivid glory. I held my breath as I glided through, and felt for the slippery banisters leading to the dining-room. - Here all was cheerful. "We live here since she was taken down," observed Aunt Lucas, pouring out my coffee, which I drank in silence. "How did she rest?" she-presently asked. "She talked constantly," I returned. '"Yes, she has been out,of her head now for over a week," she said, sedately; "but Dtoctor Mansfield says that is to be expected." , , "What does he say ails her I asked. "Brain fever, brought on by too much study.. Her: throat is affected some, too," she replied, with an air of indifference that I did not relish. The doctor came while- he was speak- ing. I went; immediately up-stairs. He was feeling her pule-as I entered.: He was a :tall, thin, grave man, and he bowed, without speaking, as Milly introduced me. page: 436-437[View Page 436-437] 436 RUBINA. "I am glad you have come; she needs constant care," he said, as he prepared a new prescription, and took his leave. "Is there any hope, doctor?"I managed to inquire, as he crossed the threshhold with a careful stride. "Of course, my dear woman, great hope; but the danger is not yet past," he said, in a low tone. "I shall come to- night and stay awhile with her. If she sleeps, do- not waken her on any account." He bowed low and trod softly down the long staircase. She did not sleep. All day she prattled ceaselessly, sink- ing at intervals into a kind of murmur, totally unintelligible. The domestics came frequently to inquire if I needed any assistance, and Susan, the chambermaid, watched with her while I took my meals. Milly went off in the afternoon for a fortnight's visit, declaring that it was too dull and dreary to be longer borne. A week passed, ere she knew me. The doctor declared all -immediate:danger over, but stipulated expressly for the great- est caution against a relapse. I was only too thankful for this; thankful that she knew my voice, and loved the caresses I be- stowed upon her, for she had not yet seen me. Her eyes were badly inflamed and swollen, and were kept scrupulously bandaged. Neither could she utter a word. - The ravings of delirium seemed to have utterly exhausted her strength; her greatest efforts only produ6ing a whisper. She complained more and more of her throat; of the pressure encircling it- trying to remove it by tearing at it with her feeble fingers. Altogether we had more cause for fear than for hope, as days, and weeks even, wore tediously away, and brought no very formidable steps toward that land of promise to an in- valid-entered -through the golden gates of convalescence. RUBINA. - 437 CHAPTER XXXV. DURINo all this time I had not once met Mr. Hume, who was a frequent visitor at the house. Three months had swept away since my arrival. I passed them for the most partlin anxious, solitary nursing. I sought and obtained slop-work from the shops with which to employ my leisure hours, and when Annah slept or dozed, I sewed diligently; then, while" my fingers fought the coarse garments with their tiny wea- pons, my thoughts battled none the less resolutely their mo- nopoly of bitter discontent. I often wondered that he never asked for me; but after the usual daily pondering of the mat- ter, I one day reflected that very likely he was unaware of my presence in the house-it is so galling to pride to admit the idea of forgetfulness. "Milly or her mother are not likely-to speak of me to any one, especially if they thought it would gratify me, and they know that we were once friends," thought I, apologetically. "And though he knows, probably, that Annah has been dangerously ill, and is even yet too feeble to 'be visible below, he might suppose her to be in the tender charge of a hired nurse; a natural supposition, as Aunt Han- nah and Milly are never in the sick-room, or, as she is out of sight, most probably she is out of mind also. A lover in the presence of. his mistress is not apt to think of aught else. Her lover? But -he was once mine." I stung my shrinking heart again amd again with this useless accusation .it gave me back only humble silence. Then my pride rose. "If he did know of my proximity, and did not choose to see me--did not choose to be civil for the sake of the old friendship, it was well enough," I reasoned. "What did I care for him? what, page: 438-439[View Page 438-439] 438 8' RUBA. indeed! He was so unsubstantial (I cast about vainly for a better word, and said this, after all, with a smile), so deceitful, so selfishy tyrannical." "Oh! but you don't think so now, whatever you may once have thought," ironically interrupted Reason, with her cold, galling smile. "When others bear away the favors you scorned, you start up eager to accept them." She was ready, and pluming herself for an argumen- tative battle. I felt it, and skilfully avoided her. I bit my lip in disdain, and put down into its former dark corner in my heart the lingering tenderness which had so long lived there half smothered, but which was always persistently strug- gling upward to the daylight-sending tiny, clasping shoots 'to plead for it; for a sunnier warmth, a richer mould, heavier dews. "Lie there until the resurrection," I said, half angrily. "I will not care for you; I will not think of you, even; go in peace." After all, I could and did foster the shoots with delighted willingness. At first I felt ire at his marked neglect, then sadness, then forgiveness. I caught myself very often fram- ing excuses for him, and overwhelming my own conduct with bitter reproaches. Oftener than I care to tell, I made him like unto a god, and was more than content to sink worship- ping at his feet. No Roman fanatic ever kissed a shrine with more insensate devotion, than I, in my loving imagination, wore away, with like caresses, the sharp edges of his charac- ter. I filed them with many, many reveries, in which each one took off something rough, ragged, and formerly hateful to me, until the surface stood forth, rounded into lines of faultless beauty. Yes; absence from him, and neglect on his part; the dull, absorbing images of daily cares and toils, and my own indignant denials of the unwelcome fact, were insufficient to uproot this love, which grew with a rapidity RUBINA. 439 that appalled me. And the bitterness of the cup was my full consciousness of his utter unworthiness. I knew all the while that with renewed communion with him, perhaps with even a look, my old stubbornness would revive; my hero sink again a serf. But that did not abate one whit the pas- sionate ardor of the present longing for his presence. Do you care to ask the reason for this love? the processes by which the tiny archer sunk his shaft there unbidden, unwish- ed for-keener than steel in the fleshy tabernacle . I know not. My former affection for him--half smothered in pas- sionate resentment--was but dying embers to this fierce flame now raging: it had never been worthy of the name. It was not that Evil, in my nature, was supreme. It was only that Good lay dormant, and Evil, roused by its torpor, throve the more vigorously. Little by little, it grew a delight to think of him constantly by day, and to dream of him by night. Then, if waked by a random noise, my thought, wak- ingJikewise, still kept its guiding-star in vigilant view, and magnetically plunged after it. A woman -loves best when the object is withdrawn from her. Pity for an injury, a repulse, a slight, a misapprehen- sion, real or fancied, leads the chase. It is but a step from cold disdain, from absolute indifference, from scorn even, and a desire to ridicule, to a passion so pure and glowing, so forgetful of visibly repellant points, so full of the generosity of self-sacrifice, that to swamp his faults and vices in a veil of marvellous virtues, is but the work of an instant; that to live for him, to stiffer for him, to die for him, becomes to her thought the only bliss for earth-the only martyrdom fit for heaven. Oh! if such love be a delirium, it is none the less priceless, as it gilds the inner life with sunny reflections, and wakes'it page: 440-441[View Page 440-441] "O RUBINA. to more vivid perceptions of outward beauty. The eye, turn it where you will--upon the printed page, the glazed case- ment, bare white walls, or cold, gray ashes-sees, but discerns none of these things, for the sunlight, the mellow starlight,- the glimpses of distant, dreamyEdens that make the dreari- est surroundings seem lovely. - Then the harsh sounds of ev- ery-day life girow musical. The mind hears continual vespers, and wild, sweet songs of praise float with every unconscious heart-beat to the Author and Source of this strange emotion. Every thing divine is love. Then why should not this spark of divinity in us acknowledge its originator? Love to love; the grosser subject to the purer, the human to the heavenly, but still the same essential essence, pursuing the same immor- tal destiny. When the street-door bell rang I often opened my door to catch, perchance, the tones of his voice in the hall below. I was surprised to find how I thrived on this scanty aliment; on the brief echo of a common-place greeting as he entered, or the faint ripple of a laugh. These I gathered to myself and exulted over for hours, if not roused from my selfish mood by a whispered request from Annah, or at her gently expressed wonder at my long silence. She could not note the changes in my face, for, dear sufferer, she could yet see nothing. Her recovery to her former perfect health began to assume a doubtful hue. A swelling appeared on her round, white throat, which grew steadily in size, and was very op- pressive. She would gasp for breath, and clutch at it with her feeble fingers, as if to rend it from her. When she spoke, it was with a huskiness inexpressibly painful. She made vigorous attempts to sit up, to walk; she seemed to look hopefully forward; she spoke cheerfully when she, alluded to herself, but that was seldom. I was not deceived by her as- RUBINA. 441- sumed cheerfulness. I knew, by one little incident, that she considered her case hopeless. This was when one day, com- ing suddenly upon her, I found her praying. She did not hear the door open, and I' stood still one moment to listen. It was barely a whisper, but yet quite audible: "Help, oh help her to bear it!" was the burden of the cry-then, after a pause, 'Take me now, dear Saviour; leave me not to be a terrible burden; it is easier to die than to- linger on through years of helplessness." I shut the door, and stole softly away, unable to hear any more of the soft, agonized pleading. This secret, unspoken conclusion of hers haunted me. It banished all regretful love-dreams, and stirred within me re- morseftul'thrills for their indulgence. She must recover. I dreaded to allude to it openly; yet inwardly it fretted and i goaded me to all sorts of desperate shifts to learn its truth or falsity. I descended to employ petty meannesses as shuts. I blush to think of numberless timnes in -which I played the eaves-dropper. Many a time I stole tot my aunt's room- where in the morning she was quartered with Milly-and placing my ear to the keyhole, listened. A word here and there I caught, but of these I could not string enough to- gether to make any sensible meaning. The doctor was grave' and silent, and pitiful. ' His few phrases were of a hopeful strain always. He doubtless disliked to confirm or implant fears, as long as a strand remained on which to weave a healthful coil. I dogged his steps down stairs sometimes to the family room, where- he usually made a brief, friendly, call, on coming from the sick-chamber. My care procured me nothing; he never spoke of her. I spied in the servants' quarters, and as their voices were generally pitched several octaves above the kitchen din and bustle, I found no difficulty in hearing them. Very amusing things my inquisitiveness 19* page: 442-443[View Page 442-443] 442 RUBINA. gained for repayment; odd remarks about sweethearts and wakes, with frequent reference to Miss Milly and the minis- ter. I did n'ot comprehend these latter allusions. They spoke of something being wrong; what I cared not, now--no word of what I longed to know. It was Susan, a kind-hearted girl in the main, who finally told me. She came up one day to inquire if she could be of service. I thought of nothing, and thus told her, but she lingered. '"How be her eyes, Miss?" she asked, in a whisper. "Very painful to-day," was all I could utter. "Dr. Mansfield says she'll be stone-blind for life," next ob- served she, timidly. "None will tell you, but I tell 'em you ought to know, and so I did," was her somewhat confused apology. "I feel for you, Miss; I do, indeed," and the kind- hearted girl broke fairly down with a sob. "Miss," said she, presently, wiping her eyes with the back of her plump hand, "you'd better take the air a little; it'll do you good, and I'll stay here -with her. You look as thin as. a rail; do let me stay, and go." I finally yielded, and went noiselessly down stairs. As I passed the drawing-room door I heard Mr. Hume's voice, and the temptation was strong to stop and listen. "Why do you not frame an errand in there, and so gain a greeting, or at least observe how your unexpected presence affects him?" a momentary inclination suggested. Pride indignantly repelled it, and with a sneer told me-not to stand dallying there like a fool. I softly opened the massive door, stepped out, and as quietly closed it. It was a warm evening for autumn, Twilight blent its soothing radiance with the streaming gas- light at each corner. There were sudden flushesr in the at-, mosphere, which made the heat at times almost oppressive. RUBINA. 443 Then as sudden -a current of fresh air cooled it. Happy fam- lies clustered in cheerful parlors with wide open blinds and windows, enjoying the evening reunion. Merry couples chatted laughingly on pleasant balconies, or leaned over their iron railings to exchange gay badinage with acquaintances in the street below, These sauntered up and down the pave- ment, decked in light summer habiliments. Gay birds of Paradise they looked-apparently strangers to any thing that smacks of care or sorrow. It was a night in which to live out of doors. The essence of summer, condensed into the more pungent airs of .autumn. Only a moon was needed, to swing her golden ball among clustering stars in the cloudless blue arch, and thereby add a finishing glory.. I walked-along; but, charming as the night was, I did not enjoy it. Gay and mirthful as the scene was on either side, I was not amused thereby. I turned and went homeward-l quite too sad at heart for an aimless evening stroll. Mr. Hume, it seems, had departed; at least, I heard no voices as I entered the hall, and mounted the dim staircase. In the upper entry I met Susan returning to her charge by the back stairs leading to the kitchen. In much surprise I questioned her; she interrupted me by explaining that Miss Milly had sent her for a glass of water. "Miss Milly! where is she?"I asked briefly. "In there." She pointed to the door of the sick-cham- ber. "She came in while Miss Annah was asleep----- I left her speaking, and opened the door; but I stood paralyzed on the threshold; for, like a fiend glowering over its mortalprey, stood Milly by the bedside, her eyes dilated with horrible triumph, flaring a candle slowly'to and fro before Annah's inflamed, sightless orbs. She held in the other hand the bandage that had covered them when I left the house. page: 444-445[View Page 444-445] "4 RUBINA. I was so shocked, that for a moment I could not command my voice; then I must have made some strange noise for- eign to human ears, for she started' in affright, looked around, and dropped the candle. I was quivering with rage by this time. I advanced towards her. "Stop," she almost shouted. "4Don't come near me looking like that. Don't you touch me. Youdare not." "See if I dare not," I retorted savagely, as I clutched her by the throat, and shook her heartily. She tried to speak, to scream, but could only gasp as I held her in that vice-like clasp, while Susan looked on in dismay, and Annah vainly whispered me to "let her go-let her be"-not rightly comprehending the scene, but vaguely feeling that some- thing was wrong. "My God, ] believe I could kill you," I said exultingly. Susan screamed, and ran away--for assistance, I suppose. Aunt Hannah quickly appeared, very white, very much frightened, but desperately angry, as the strong gleam of her eye told plainly. Behind her was my uncle, whose ring, fol- lowing mine, had but just sounded. I kept my hold. "What does all this mean?" stormed Aunt Hannah, ad- vancing and striking down my arm. Milly dropped help- lessly at my feet. "You wicked woman, you've killed her; you've murdered her," screamed her mother, flinging up her hands and sending forth a piercing yell. "I hope I have," I said, recklessly. "' But there's no such good fortune. The devil is not so easily killed." 'John-! Susan.! call the officers. Don't let her escape," she screamed frantically. -"Oh! I always knew 'twould come to this," she moaned. "She has such an awful dis- position!" "Very true," I observed, stillfquivering with excitement. RUBINA. 445 "You own it, then. What a brazen face!" she declared. "If you refer to my cousin's disposition, it is very evi- dent," I retorted. I stooped to feel of her. "Oh! she will live to make more mischief yet," I added, as Milly here kicked out at me, and struggled up on her feet. I don't know what they would have done to me-my aunt and cousin together-if, for almost the first time in his hen- pecked life, Uncle John had not interfered. Even now I cannot comprehend by what means he wrought his courage . to such a pitch of resistance. They raved and shrieked like mad women. Of that sick-chamber, for a space-whether long or brief, I cannot tell--they made a hell. Then the domestics swarmed on the scene; astonished, frightened, they stood aloof and whispered together. "' You turn against your own child," at length exclaimed Aunt Hannah, sobbing hysterically - thereby becoming somewhat calmer. Milly gave him a sullen glance, and fell back behind her mother. "No I don't, Hannah," he said, sinking at once into his old character. "But I didn't want you to abuse her like that, right before my face and eyes, if I could stop it; and there's no knowing what you might have done. You lost your reason." "'Twant nothing before, I suppose," she answered short- ly. ' What if she had strangled Milly? would you have in- terfered, I wonder?" with a sceptical sneer. "I wasn't afraid -of it," said he, calmly. "I don't} say that she was altogether right, but she must have had some provocation to act as she did." ".Oh yes, Mr. Lucas. Of course she had. No one else ought to have provocation," she said spitefully. He looked distressed. "Tell us how it was, Susan," he. page: 446-447[View Page 446-447] 4&6. RUBINA. implored; " and all of you listen. You are a truthful girl, I believe, and whatever you say we will believe." "'No indeed we won't. I won't for one," interrupted my aunt, with a vengeful twitch of her chair. Susan flared 'at this, and there ensued a long altercation between mistress and maid, during which I picked up and replaced -the bandage, and whispered her "not to mind it." She felt for my hand, and kissed it. "Don't get angry for me, Ruby; it is not worth while." \ "Isn't it?"I muttered, not quite calmly; " we shall see!" Susan, for once, was victorious over her mistress, a d finally commenced her story, amid the indignant glances and open mouths of the wondering servants. It was plain that they considered her a sort of heroine, and that this affair, if it did not spread beyond the kitchen ]ireside, would there afford-food for endless repetition in the years to come. "You see, M r. Lucas," she began eagerly, "I told Miss Ruby, there, tlat I would stay with her sister while she took an airing. She ain't skursly stirred from the door sence she come here, and I thought 'twould do her good. She hadn't been gone but a trifle, when Miss Millicent she tripped up, and, says she, 'Susan, run down and get me a drink. I'll stay here till you come back, if you'll light me, a candle,' says she. 'tI isn't dark,' I says, for I knowed Miss Ruby allers set without a light, and I wanted to do what was right, if I could. ' Get me one, girl,' she snapped out." "Snapped out! You'd better be careful how you put things," interposed my aunt. "It may be better for you in the end." "Well, she did snap out, and she called me girl, too," doggedly asserted Susan-covertly smiling at the cook, who nodded her head in token of her stanch support. RUBINA. 447 "You talk of being careful," again diverged the narrator, turning to her mistress. "You are the ones to be careful. I hain't lived here so long without knowing some things as Miss Millicent would rather not have come out." "Whlat do you mean, you low-lived thing?" demanded Milly, angrily. "I mean what I mean," responded Susan, stoically, " and if put to it, I'll tell--let what will come of it. Well, to pro- ceed. I went for the water, and when I come back, she was drawing the light--so--right afore the bed. It's a mercy it didn't scorch 'em. She'll be blind now, if she wasn't before." She finished with a pitiful inspection of the sufferer. "I meant she should bei" spitefully said Milly. "She won't get any more praises. She can't play any more, either, and I'm glad, and I just as soon as not that you all should know it." Nobody replied. The servants gave one last look at us, and filed silently down stairs-Susan at their head. Uncle John looked horror-stricken. "How much longer do you intend to be quartered on us?" My aunt turned on the threshold to hurl this mali- cious query. "As soon as my sister can accompany me, I shall bid you farewell forever," I responded. "I thought she would live with us. I hoped- so. We will all forgive and forget this dreadful night," said Uncle John, timidly. "I thank you, Uncle. You will always have my warmest gratitude; but as for the others-I knew they disliked me; but I never dreamed of this." They both flounced scornfully down the stairway. Uncle John dropped a few more kind words on the wound, and page: 448-449[View Page 448-449] 'f4:; O I URBIUNA. reiterated his former request for their forgiveness, which my tongue granted, but my heart refused to sanction; and then we were left alone. "Alone," I said; a/nd yet not so, if hard, bitter thoughts are to be considered company. I felt an added twinge of defiance in my nature as I reviewed the scene, and looked out from this new stand-point on the still darker future. It was indeed a bright day to me, when we finally got away. This was not until winter snows had fallen, melted, and given place to renewed airs of spring. My sister was to be blind forever; the decree had formally gone forth. The swelling left her throat: she regained her voice in a measure, but she could never again sing. She bore her afflictions patiently: I constantly repined and wept over them. I had written frequently to the Hoveys through the year. They knew of these events as they transpired, and answered with the balm of sympathy. "Come, as soon as thee can," they wrote; " both thee and thy sister. Some way will as- suredly open, and thee can be sure of a home with us." And at last we came. Helen Mar was delighted. She skipped like a kid around Annah, kissing her rapturously. Her father smiled, and hoped "thee has found an object on which to work off thy superabundance of caresses." I had a plan in my head, waiting only for these kind friends' approval: to move to a little room,. wait and adver- tise for scholars. I was ready to meet and answer their ob- jections, and Zaccheus soon procured me a room only a few blocks removed from themselves. I worked all day to make it cheerful; though as I scrubbed the floor to a snowy white- ness, and polished our little stove, I reflected sadly that I was taking all this pains for one who could never see the RUBINA. 449 result. She heard the pleasant bustle, however,-and said "she could imagine how things were looking." "I have just thought," said Judith, " that when thee was away thee had a call from a young man, who said he was Andrew Jackson. Helen Mar thought him a queer specimen," laughed she softly-then, recollecting herself, she stopped. "He seemed by his attire to be a cleric." "I hall be glad to see him," I said simply. "Annah, child, what is it?"She was feeling along the wall-slowly and cautiously. "Nothing now; Ruby," she answered, with a brighter smile than I had yet seen her wear. "I perceive that this space will hold a piano, and I was hoping that you would get pupils enough to warrant hiring one, and then I can give lessons, you know. It's all that I can do." "My darling, can you rXead the notes?"I said, in a low tone. "Oh, that is nothing. I know the instruction-book by heart. I can teach beginners, and as to sheet music-if some one will read it to me once correctly, I can remember and give it to them," she eagerly said. "But I cannot do th:lt, Aunah." "Never mind, we will wait and see first what success you have," and she smiled hopefully. My little home grew very dear to me. Mr. Hovey supplied us liberally with comforts, and as for luxuries, those we could do very well without. I kept the floor spotless; the tiny stove shining. On the high mantel I piled my few books. A low bench ran around'one side; over it I drove pegs for bonnets and shawls. I had a small pine table, too-painted red; this served us in a double sense-for our meals, or as a desk for reading and writing. I got an easy-chair for Annah, and a low rocking-chair for my own use. In one corner stood page: 450-451[View Page 450-451] 450 RUBINA. our little bed-a gift from Judith. A small mirror hung above the table, which Helen Mar adorned with wreaths and festoons of colored tissue-paper. A sad litter her artistic freak cost me: for days she haunted the room, a matronly pair of shears depending by a steel chain from her slender waist, and clipped and strung to her heart's content. A balloon-like article of the same gay hues hung from the ceiling. I remember well the delight of our little band, when a timid knock announced my first pupil-save Helen; the next day I gained another, and at the end of the month I counted twenty bonnets on the pegs; the low bench was full. Don't think, reader, that you are to be wearied with a prosaic account of my school; its petty area of irritations; its simple pleasures. I have no desire myself to review the experiences lurking there. Suffice it to say, that in a moderate measure I prospered; slowly but surely I gained the love of the children and the confidence of the parents. My numbers increased. I added another bench to the room; rented a piano for Annah, and-oh joyful day for her!-she commenced giving lessons. This was a full year from the day we took possession, but not once had she repined at the delay. During this year we saw Andrew Jackson frequently. I looked for the raw, gaunt youth of Northfield; in that stead came a tall, finely formed young man-almost a stranger. Like scores of others, he had come to the city to seek his fortune, convinced-as he remarked, with a dash of the old egotism-" that in the country a man of talent can do nothing worthy of himself" At every visit I noticed how the rustic armor was fast dropping from his speech and manner. He told me sad news of the old farm-house. UTncle Joel had left the RUBINA. 451 church, and been " labored with" by the deacons and elders for this unchristian conduct, but vainly. "He never goes to church now," quoth Andrew. "Where he keeps himself is a mystery. The farmwas sold at sheriff's sale; there's talk of redeeming it, I believe; but- people generally think it's a pretty doubtful case. I tell you, Miss Brooks, that sermon , did the business for Squire Martin. He lost all of his ambition, and it broke up the revival completely." Andrew's leave-takings were but signals for a longer tarry; for protracted questions about Annah's music, and petitions so confidentially made, that it seems a sin to tell them here. He caught my smile one day; perhaps it enlightened his own perceptions, for-he colored, stammered some excuse for leaving, and, snatching up his hat, vanished hastily. Poor lad! I had no thought of being so ironical. He saw that I divined his secret, and it galled him sorely. Oh! why can we not hide our sweetest secrets from other prying eyes? Though of the fairest texture, they become gross, common- place, when the world sifts its hot, curious breath over them. I was sorry for him. As for Annah, she innocently wondered what made our friend start off in such a hurry; and unwilling to implant a conscious expression on her sweet face, I framed some evasive answer. CHAPTER XXXVI. "T is nine years since we left Northfield, Ruby," ob- served Annah, one day, thoughtfully counting them over on her thin white fingers. "Yes, darling," I assented, lifting my eyes to note her page: 452-453[View Page 452-453] RUBINA. meaning. She seemed lost in thought, so I resumed my sewing. Silence lasted an hour by the clock; broken only by the ring of my scissors as they slipped from my lap to the smooth, bare floor-during which I, too, went wandering in that distant Northfield life, so far behind my present that it seemed a weary travel. "Nine years, indeed !" I echoed, and a sigh followed. " And all this time, Ruby, you've been teaching, without bringing your fortune any nearer. How you used to talk of it! Where are all our grand dreams, our wonderfully fine visions, Ruby ? We get no glimpses of them now." ' They are merged in reality; we have no time for dream- ing," I answered. She smiled. "You don't mean to say that our dream ever became real, do you? Why, we dreamed of fame, and wealth, and power, besides scores of minor things !" " I'm afraid they are indeed gone, Annah; lost on the re- ceding shores of youth, where they first took life and shape. I have got past that now. We are in a sense independent: we earn our support. I trust you are content with that, my darling," I said, a little anxiously. "Oh yes," she hastened to say, laying down her knitting -she could knit beautifully-then, a little earnestly, Shall you ever return there, do you think, Ruby ?" "I don't know. Should you like it ? we can go at any time," I replied. "It is not so long a journey. We can spend the coming vacation there, if you choose-that is, if you feel strong enough for it." "Is it a long vacation ?" she asked, vacantly. "Surely you know, love," I said, astonished at the ques- tion. "It begins in August, and lasts until Novem- ber." 61 RUBINA. 453 "How lonely you will be, sister! I forgot-" was all she said in reply. I put down my work and looked at her. Where had my eyes been the past year, that I had not discovered how much thinner and paler she was getting; how hollow her cheeks were, under the poor, sightless eyes ? It was no unfamiliar vision, yet it smote me like a new revelation: the precursor of dreads unexpressed, yet keener than a two-edged blade. I rose and crossed over to her. "You are not well to-day, my darling ?" I questioned anxiously. "Oh yes, indeed." She never complained. ' No, you are not," I persisted. " I feel a little tired, that is all. I think it is this June sun; it is so oppressive." I scanned her in silence: she felt it: "You are looking at me earnestly, Ruby. What do you see in my face that is unusual?" She reached for my hand, and softly stroked it with her own pale fingers. "God only knows, my child," I quivered out, taking her up in my arms, and putting her slight form on the bed. "Lie there and rest; for you shall knit no more this sum- mer, nor give another lesson." "Oh yes-" she began; but I cut her short. "Oh no , you are just to mind me, you know. You have worked too much already. I am a brute not to have perceived it." "You are wrong. It is not that. I should like to work -it is but little at best-as long as I can; for soon the night cometh in which no one can work," she murmured, dreamily. c' How shall I feel hereafter, if I let you toil for me, while I lie idle here able to help you ?" "Oh! Annah- "Sister Ruby! my sister," she began, and paused- " Should you feel it to be wrong if the good Father should page: 454-455[View Page 454-455] 454 RUBINA. call me away from you for a season--not to stay from you forever, you know-only to go before you and find the way? You have had such a hard life-it's all been hard from the beginning, hasn't it, dear?"And I have done nothing to lighten it. He knows it as well as I, sister, and He is going to let me do something for you at last-you who have done every thing for me, my mother, sister, and friend. He wants me to go and find a home for you: then when you come, all you will have to do is to enjoy it. I can feel how pitiful He is, dear; how sorry for our troubles. And it is joy for me to go. I shall love my task, and Demis will help me. Dear Demis! I think of her more and more: I can almost see her sometimes; I know she is with us. I should like to be buried beside her; but not in Northfield." "Annah," I sobbed, "you must not talk so. I cannot bear it." "I won't, then," she answered, sweetly. "Forgive me; I supposed you knew." An intense hush followed, during which twilight silvered every object in the room, then slowly shifted to vague shim- mering rays of moonlight. It was a young moon, and van- ished almost ere the tardy sunset cradled it. The glimpse I got ere it set looked ghostly. But so0 did every thing. What was there that did not appear for a little time and then vanish? Yea; the very table on which I rested my head, the very chair on which I sat, the clothes I wore, were stamped with the destiny of decay. I was enjoying, behold- ing their prime: the meridian must soon be passed. And so of human lives. Our straining eyes discern no footprints on Ahe other side, but not the less are they moving there; not 'the less are we too changing. Oh, bitter, bitter thought! It is no comfort to the RUBINA. 455 mourner to be told consolingly that we shall some time follow our departed. They are rent from our warm, sympathetic present. The past may afford us sweet food for gleaning memory after the years have been long garnered; but in the first anguish of bereavement, the future's promise seems only empty, tasteless husks of mockery. "Bereavement," I say? Yes! For the real parting is not when death sets his final seal on matter, and the enfranchised spirit soars free. The icy deliverer is often welcomed as a benefactor, for it shortens unavailing pain. The parting pang is when the first thought that your loss is swift and certain crowds clearly into view; that the battle has been fought 'twixt life and death, between health and disease, and the latter have prevailed. No two words in our language strike the senses with such a jar as these, "No hope." Then the dreary looking forward, with the keen present grief, and the sacred hush which fills the rooms, and awes our very breath into silence, and envelops our stiffening faculties in mute affright and sobbing. The door opened.. I half looked to see a spirit; but it was a man's form groping through the darkness, a man's voice, cheerful and loud, which spoke. "Oh, it's Andrew," said Annah, rising, while I struck a light. "And we haven't been to tea," she added, with a smile. Andrew looked astonished. I think I will take it with you, then," he laughed, " if your sister will permit." I tried to answer cheerfully, while preparing it, but it was a poor attempt. When I had seen them seated at table, I put on my bonnet and shawl. "I must go out into the street a few moments," I said to Annah's inquiry," it is such a good time now, dear; I never like to'leave you alone.." .I almost ran to the Hoveys. As I burst open the door where page: 456-457[View Page 456-457] RUBIINA. they sat, they rose startled. My wild, frightened manner must have brought the conclusion of some dreadful catas- trophe. " Is Annah dying ?" was all I could bring my lips to utter. "Good heavens! Thee don't mean it." And Judith hurriedly patted away for her bonnet. I mean is- she ill enough for that?" I explained. 4 I never thought so before to-night, but she has been talking strangely-something very unusual with her." I saw Judith glance at her husband. Helen Mar-now a tall, stately young lady-rose and left us. "Thee had better be told now, friend Rubina, that thy sister will never be lany better. But don't thee be troubled, she may live with thee years yet; only think how long thou hast had her, and she is not much worse." "Much worse," I echoed bitterly.. " I hoped she might, be getting .better all this time; and to think that I have done nothing for her." '" Thee can do nothing, Rubina. I consulted our physician long ago about the case. He saw her here one day, and frankly told me that he could do her no good. If she should recover her sight by an operation, she would go the sooner. And he is a man well skilled in medicine, as thee well knows, Rubina. Thee must not rebel; God will temper the wind to the shorn lamb," said Zaccheus, in his deep melodious voice-the tones quivering with pity. "We must all give up our friends when the summons comes," added Judith, placidly tying her drab bonnet. "I will walk back with thee, my friend." I closed my school the next day. Andrew was invaluable to me now. He came daily; he brought all sorts of delicacies,.and spent hours in efforts to amuse her. She could not see the sadness which overspread his face, when she lay back on the pillow quite spent with her brief exertion of talking; nor the deep wistful gaze in which his soul called unto hers. If she guessed the truth from the tones of his voice, and his constant, tender care, she never spoke of it, or seemed conscious. And how changed indeed were their relations! Her merry girlhood had cheered him, and encouraged ambition towards a higher life. "It was for her sake I came to New York," said he sorrowfully. "I wanted to make myself worthy before I dared ask for her, and now it has all come to this. Of what use has it been?" he finished, despondingly. "Don't ask that, Andrew. You little know how your mere presence comforts. Of use it has been, though, as yet, hidden from you." I could have wept daily at the sight of this affectionate devotion of the tall, strong man to the weak, blind girl, during those sultry summer days, had I not felt the need of husband- ing sorrow for him for a far darker day of grief. And at last it came. I pass over the first shock of sorrow. I cannot speak of the full cup of torture pressed close to the shrinking lips; for its poignancy will never lessen in memory. Here was a transition, silent and peaceful. Some flowers wither prematurely from their stems; pinched by sharp winds, nipped by unkindly frosts, they shrivel in a reluctant heap and leave a black, barren stalk behind. But the most fragrant of roses fall noiselessly earthward, and then-their full, perfect life accomplished-their departing odors leave on our stricken hearts a faint shadow of what in due time will strengthen to a healing balm. Let us patiently await the sovereign cure. A broken shaft rises to mark the spot where Annah sleeps, page: 458-459[View Page 458-459] 458 RUBINA. far from the city's noise; and only one line roughens the pure marble: "I am going to find you a home." They were her dying whispers, as I bent, in an agony too deep for tears, over her departing spirit. CHAPTER XX XVl. HERE, something whispers me to pause. It says, "Suppress the further record of a -longing, disappointed life." The succeeding years, which are only repetitions of the previous ones of baffled effort. The weary struggles for subsistence, as my pupils gradually -dropped away into men and matrons' places in the world, and none came to take their places. And the reluctant disbanding of the vast army of hopes and fears, which people annually with dismal graves every earnest heart. Perhaps I might discover the hidden blessing lurking amid the thorns piercing me, did I seek for it dispassionately. I confess I cannot do this. Age and toil have furrowed my frame, have taken ample toll for each passing year; but my heart-poor foolish member!-keeps its fair round lines untarnished; its legacy of immortal youth. It glows with as eager hopes as ever. I still detect it looking forward with a trusting confidence, never destined to be levelled by any barbed arrow of disappointment. How can I check it? Is the tide-wind that sucks the marrow from our bones, the strength from our erect stature, the roundness from our muscles, also to sap the foundations of our mental nature- the greenness and vigor of our souls I trust and believe not. That which we lose shall we not some time find again? That which is taken, shall it not be restored? Time is but an unfinished volume; or, rather, a scrap-book of disconnected RUBINA. 459 fragments of one great story. Death steps in ere the interest in it ceases, and says sternly, "To be continued;" and where our volume abruptly closes, there our next opens. Eternity takes up the unfinished threads of our dusty hopes, fears, loves, and griefs, and 'weaves them firmly into one massive woof; it brightens, it refines, it polishes. And the conclusion ' of the theme waxes and wanes far onward in the infinite years. Or, shall it ever end? In the atmosphere of immortality shall aught of decay exist? Shall not the dews of divinity baptize it with never-fading splendor 8 What finite mind can grasp these mysteries? dare criticise an Infinite Author? dare pronounce with heedless confidence upon the proper point for the interesting tale to culminate; when God shall write!"Finis" below the close of the last tragic chapter? What the grave shall shut upon here and open to me beyond, I know not. ;I have signs: I see visions. But I place no faith in things so terrestrial assuming a celestial garb: never- theless, they serve to comfort me a little, and to keep Hope bright and active.. Then, when the rosary of Time is number- ed, on the last receding pearl I trust to slip quietly and with perfect faith to the Great Father's bosom. CHAPTER XXx V111. ERE I close I must speak a word for a few characters in these pages. Andrew Jackson lives-an honored, useful, happy man. Yes, 'happy." Time, the great consoler, brought healing on its wings for him. His sorrow deepened, expanded his whole nature, and in the genial warmth?of page: 460-461[View Page 460-461] "O RUBINA. what thus became a blessing his sp!rit grew afresh; grew kindly sympathetic with all mankind, and thus took on added lustre-for, every doubt removed from a poor pilgrim's heart, every sorrow lightened, blesses abundantly the doer, and gives him added strength. Goodness multiplies ere it returns to the heart that gave it birth: if no trumpet sound of Fame greets his life here, a higher, holier applause lives in hundreds of human hearts-made bold-and strong through him. And why should I not be thankful that happiness tinges his remaining years; even though I still-linger amid the shadows? For her-out of the darkness into the light; yea, eternity's light. For him--out of the gloom of earthly hope-' less mourning for her sweet human presence, into the open sunlight of peace. And in due time another love crowns his life; if less fervent than his first sad dream, not less tenderly constant. A few years after Annah's death, there was a sober wedding-at the Hoveys': two lives married in the presence of three witnesses, after the beautiful Quaker ritual--silent and impressive. Their home is .but a stone's throw from my lodgings, and it is my favorite resort. Helen Mar still dubs him playfully " a queer specimen," as occasion brings to light some long-hidden noble deed; but ,it is to be observed that each revelation of this nature increases the admiring love in which she holds her 1" bonnie husband." Zaccheus and Judith quoted their son-in-law, his sayings and doings, on all occasions of mild disputations between them and their Quaker brethren. "Thee must be aware, friends, that Andrew knows," was considered-by themselves-- equal to a judge's verdict. Andrew was indeed to these good souls an honored son. Tenderly and with filial reverence he smoothed their pathway to the tomb; and now his every act blesses their holy mem- - RUBINA. 461 ory. His is a stately home; for wealth has crowned his efforts. r He hoards it in no miserly coffers, but literally ful- fils the most impressive of all the Divine commands-Char- ity; confident that in sowing the good seed broadcast, as but an humble almoner of the Lord, he will finally gather to himself a whole harvest of abundant sheaves.. I never hear now from Aunt Hannah. I have never look- ed upon her face since our separation; her cold farewell was the last word I ever heard her utter. Uncle John came to see me soon after Annah's death. Poor man! He was much changed; he wept as he went away. He long ago descended to the dark vale; -his life, I firmly believe, shortened by family bickerings and disgrace, for a sad story reached me soon after. Milly's conduct, her sad career, her shameful flight, is too shocking a history to be written here. Where she is now, I know not. And the companion of her crime-her minister, my schoolmaster -of him I cannot speak. I loathe his vices; I abhor his crimes. And his sojourn in brought not a few to light. He shamefully degraded his holy office: his name, plucked from the church records, hurled from the shining heights of favor, lies forever buried in ignominy, enwreathed with con- tempt when-as it seldom is now-spoken. I hang a veil before this picture when I wish to lose my- self in memory.. Then I cherish tender reflections of the days that are gone: they hang like a purple mist over distant mountains. Again the awakening aspiration, the eagerhopes of ignorant fancies, burn within me. I live over again the. petty jealousy; the fierce hate; the sense of vacant depths answering to my yearning; the chill of feeling it all jn the power, to be summoned at the will of,an indifferent experi- menter; of feeling the warmth of his professions, but simu- page: 462-463[View Page 462-463] "2 RUBnLTA. lated to hide ignoble purposes-Oh, Demis! surely yours was a preferable fate, for you lived not to let it torture you. And Northfield. Can the years touch thee with change- ful fingers and not- leave the impress? Dear secluded ham- let among imprisoning hills! My thoughts haunt thee steadi- ly; I can settle to nothing for the winter until I go and see thee. This I said to myself, reader, one night after pondering the matter well. No lumbering " stage" awaited me at Chispa. This was the first wheel of the chariot, change. I looked eagerly from the car window as we drew near Northfield. The mountains still towered their wooded slopes heavenward. The meadows and hill-sides were as fresh and green as ever. But a serpent- like trail of iron wound around the hills, plunged down the shallow gorges, and stretched away, away over the broad commons. Our locomotive wheezed down the grade," and brought up most respectably at the side of a low-roofed, brown-painted station. "Here's the dep-o!" sang out a strong nasal voice behind me, with unmistakable satisfaction. A feminine voice re- sponded. It was a conjugal duet. "Yes, and for my part I'm glad on't. Here, you take Natty and I'll see after the duds. There's them crackers; if you've a mind to tuck 'em int' your overcut pocket, you may : bub's whet his bill on 'em all the way, nearabout. Young'uns at his age are so craving." "Well, that's the talk," chuckled the nasal tones, as he picked up the 'craving' youngster, and was marching off to the tune of "Wall, woman, you gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost:" she recalled him. "Hold on a second. Here's them handbills that the little 'boy was so perlite as to give us: them's the names' of taverns down to the city. You may as well put 'em in your RUBINA. 463 pocket too, for may be we'll take a n6tion to go there, some day, and then they'll -come handy; and here's one I want to look over at my leisure, and if it's what it professes to be, I shall give it a trial: my hair's gittin' desp'rate streaked latterly." The matron sighed audibly.' I smiled, as I left them still huddling various articles into a small faded satchel; but it set me thinking how inexorably age treats our poor smouldering vanity, and strips us of our bonny graces. I almost echoed the matron's sigh; then I smiled disdainfully at my weakness, as I plodded up the street past 'Lawyer Prince's cottage, now grown into a stately dwelling. I did not know the streets. By some unaccountable perversity they had widened and taken unto themselves sidewalks. Rows of maples bordered them; not yet attained to any remarkable altitude. White trellised boxes surround- ed and protected their shaky trunks. But the old houses themselves had taken on airs, too, and patched themselves up with bay windows, and verandas; and the great chimneys had toppled down to make room for their slender successors; and the old brass knockers had given place to bells. The grounds enveloping them looked pleasant. Gravelled walks swept downward to the street. Shrubs dotted the turf; and flowers bloomed in gay profu- sion. Painted shingles at the corners told me the names of the streets-formerly known by universal consent as "Pork Lane," "Piping Alley," and "Thunder;" very unaccount- ably they had flowered into "Myrtle," "Summer," and "Elm Streets." The stores had trebled in number, and risen to three-storied importance. Over their front stood forth the symbolical letters for secret gatherings. But the farmhouse was unchanged. The same -old stone kept its page: 464-465[View Page 464-465] "4 RUBINA. office at, the gate. The same shrubs bloomed in the same spots in the yard. The same-or others exactly like--green paper curtains were unrolled before the tiny paned windows. No door-plate, no ivory bell-knob here: the same brass knocker-as bright as gold--on the green, double-leaved door. I lifted; let it fall three times, with a sonorous clang, starting an echo from the neighboring hills. Footsteps hasti- ly scudded along the entry: the door opened one of its leaves, and revealed the face of my neighbor in the cars. With one hand on the door-latchb the other vigorofisly re- strained the frantic plunges of a two-years-old boy, to rush from the maternal restraint. "Aint you 'shamed now, sonny?.' she said reprovingly.- "Natty dont see the lady, does he . He mustn't act naugh- ty, but be mother's little man." The little man might be Natty, but he was not my Natty of long ago. I had some difficulty in making the good woman understand my errand. Then I found that she was Darwin's wife-"' Martha Butter- field that: was," she said with a laugh; and finally she re- moved my things, and to my eager inquiries for Debby and my aunt, said, '"Yes, I guess we'll make a raise on 'em," and. opened the door to the kitchen. It looked much as of old, save that the listing-seated chairs had vanished-replaced by more modern ones of cane. An old woman drooped by the open door over a pan of dried apples, which she was in- dustriously coring. ' She did not hear my entrance. "They aint wormy none, as- I can see," she muttered to'herself; 'mazin likely apples. for this time o'year, I think. I was a tellin' Miss Martin this very day that-" "Debby, how do you do?!' She lifted her eyes. So wrinkled a face I never bpfore beheld; red eyelided, toothless; the form-thinner far than , *\ RUBNAE. 465 of yore, and bent nearly double. I never should have known her if we had met elsewhere. She tried to raise her old shoulders, but the weight of nearly a hundred years would not give way. - She sank back again, peering up at me through her glasses with evident curiosity- "Whose that, for massy's sake ." she managed to cackle, after a moment's silent survey. "Don't you know me, Deborah? dear Deborah." I took and pressed her dry, withered hand. "Think back a good many years. Itisan old friend." "Why it's--no, it can't be nuther. Wall, massy to us; do tell me now if 'tis ra'ly Ruby Brooks, or her shadder. Your voice sounds like her'n; but you don't look like her; else I've forgot. I spect she's dead long 'fore this. We ain't hurd from her, none on us." Still I kept her hand. With the other she removed her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and resumed gazing at my face. "Nary a look o' her," she muttered. T'other one wan't never han'some, as you may say; but she looked kinder cum'ly, too, after all; and I allers told her that han'some is as han'som does; but this one aint one nor t'other. Who be you .X" "' You must remember that Ruby is older," I said simply. "Are you glad to see her?" A gleam of recognition smote her withered face. '"The Lord's sake alive!" she gasped, letting fall her pan of apples, as she started up and seized me by both hands. "I guess I am. I'd gin up ever 'spectin' to see ye agkin. Wall, wall, and here ye be!" she crooned delightedly. "But ye're longer favored than ye used to be, Ruby." ' Have you got a kiss for me, Debby 2" I stooped for- vord -. 20* page: 466-467[View Page 466-467] RUBINA. f. "Bless her. She wants to kiss the old woman, does she? Yes, I guess I have. Got forty, got a hundred, got a mil- lion;" and the poor old saul fairly broke down. I had hard work to soothe her. She declared that she was not crying; all the while her' sobs and gasps were painful to hear. Then she seized me by the neck, and-vigorously for her-implanted kisses on my cheek, until I managed to extricate myself. Mrs. Martha looked on and laughed, while drawing out the table; but said not a word until Aunt Rhoda entered. She looked almost as old as Debby, and far thinner. As Mrs. Martha introduced me, she shaded her eyes with her hand, scanned me narrowly, and replied in a querulous tone to my greeting. Then she declared her disbelief in my identity. I attempted to convince her, but she interrupted me with, " I dont want to hear no' sech gammon." I may as well add here, that during my Whole stay she would not be brought to recognize me; but treated me exactly like a stranger. She alluded-in my hearing-- to " Martha's company." After a day she ceased to notice me. It was clear that she still hated me cordially. From Dwight, in the days which followed, I gained a history of all the changes in Northfield. Of his father's being " cut off from the church on earth, and the- congregation of the saints, root and branch," by Elder Fuller; of the farm being sold for debt, and his own efforts to redeem it. How Ira had never "lifted a finger to help them ;" and how proud Amanda had grown, '' as homely as sin, and as selfish as the devil, if she is my sister," he indignantly ejaculated: "she's got seven young ones just like her, only twice as hateful, and she don't step foot in here only at Thanksgiving and Christ- mas, and so on. Mother went to live with her after we broke up, but she 'didn't stay long; they're too near alike about RUBINA. 467 some things. Amanda as good as turned her out. I told the old woman I could keep her if no one else could." Then he spoke of the Pierces; of Olive's devotion to her sister, who would never in this life be any better. "You can't shet her up so close but what she'll git loose," said he. " She'll smash winders, and bark like a dog, a d mew like a cat, and she hates children like pison. Ste's been com- plained of time and time agin, and once she was sent to an asylum; but didn't do her no good. She wore Mrs. Pierce out: she died three years ago, and Eleil, he got married, and went off to Californy. Olive and her father stays there: nobody goes nigh 'em once in a dog's age. I don't know what'll become of 'em. The farm's goin' to rack an' ruin as fast as it can; it wants a manager. Ira ought to work it, but he won't. Amanda might help Olive too; great strap- pin' crittur-weighs a hundred and eighty clean; but catch her a doin' it! No, indeed." It was a short, sad biogra- phy. I wept bitter tears at its recital. My stay lengthened to a week. I made Olive a brief visit. It was sad to see the wreck of her former buoyant self, moving so drearily around the deserted rooms; yet it ' was noble-this faithful, serene fulfilment of a life-long duty. She wore her old cheerful smile, however. Soli- tude, neglect, and trial, had not chilled or embittered her feelings, or clouded her joyous faith in the Future's reserve for her. "I know he will come back sometime Ruby," she said, as I spoke of Mark and his long absence. "I can wait: what are a few years ?" Alas! that this single hope should be reft from her. Not then did we know that the clarion tones of war had pierced his ear afar off; that his soul leaped responsive; and that his page: 468-469[View Page 468-469] "8 RUBINA. wandering feet returned to join in the impending con- flict. Oh t eager hearts, which swelled on that fearful day with hopeful, pride, and thirst for the laurels of victory. Alas! that your confident dreams should so soon crumble to dustl Some forms must fall, we know. The pant of the rising lion must be appeased. Our country's soil is stained with- sacrificial offerings of her bravest and best. The life-blood of Freedom flows over the fiendish heart of Treason; a sure, though costly regenerator. Brave souls: silent, yet speak- ing. For thee rests in the future years, on thy country's bosom, immortal gratitude and praise. No brave young life has gone out obscurely in her defence; it shall be relit at the splendid torch of history. I did not go ap to Uncle Jesse's. All things there were changed, and become new. The dear old faces had vanish- ed. One by one, as their life's work waned toward comple- tion, they dropped placidly off into their long, dreamless rest. Strangers kindle home fires there, on the old familiar hearthstones. Unknown faces flit to and fro in the great rooms-haunted, to me, by the forms of the dear departed. "The places that knew them shall know them no more" on earth; but let us hope and believe that they are not there- fore homeless. Earth for heaven is no paltry exchange of tenement. Crumbling imperfection for fadeless immortality. The willow for the golden crown. Sackcloth and ashes, for the sinless robes of "Life Everlasting." THE END.
