and come home at evening to recover from his dazed feverishness in the cool semi-twilight of the other's presence. I must find out some day if she has ever been in love. I fancy not. There is a dewy firmness in the texture of her heart that seldom outlasts the fires of even a mild passion—such a timid flame as the pastor's daughter might feel for some pious under-shepherd or amorous evangelist."
At this precise instant, Jessie having obeyed her father's summons, Eunice laid down her work and confronted him.
"Mr. Wyllys, I wish to say a word to you respecting my sister's antecedents, before she goes to Mrs. Baxter."
Without a symptom of surprise, he bowed, and exchanged his seat for one near the stand by which she sat. In this one action, he accepted her confidence and put his services at her disposal, should she need them.
"From the descriptions of this lady given by my father and yourself, I infer that she is affectionate and voluble. She will be likely to impart to Jessie all she knows of her mother's history, and question her concerning her own childish recollections. I have thought it best that you should hear the truth upon a subject that is rarely alluded to in our family. My father talked freely of it to Mr. Fordham before giving his sanction to his engagement with Jessie; but he has not spoken of it to me in many years—never to my sister. Should a garbled version of a story which is sad enough in itself, reach her ears, it would distress and bewilder her, if there were no one near who could correct the misstatement. My step-mother never recovered the natural tone of her health and spirits after my sister's birth. Her disease took the form of a gentle melancholy, indifference to domestic and neighborhood interests, varied at times by fits of wild weeping, so violent that she was confined to her couch with debility and headache for several days after each. She conversed rationally when drawn into conversation, but the spring of action was gone. She never complained of bodily pain, made no unreasonable demands upon the time and patience of those who waited upon her. She read much and wrote more, burning her manuscripts, however, as fast as they were completed. She drew, too, rapidly and well, and upon these occupations she expended what little energy of mind and body remained to her after the illness that had nearly cost her her life. We guarded her from intrusion and uncharitable remark so far as we could. My nurse—an elderly widow—was then alive, and was our housekeeper, her daughter being our only other servant. Once, however, and within a year, a rumor was brought to me that Jessie's mother had died a lunatic. It is possible Mrs. Baxter has heard such. If she has, and should be so indiscreet as to repeat it to you—so unfeeling as to hint it to the daughter of that unhappy lady—may I rely upon you to tell my sister the exact truth? She is impressible and ardent. Her love for her mother is a passion. It would nearly kill her, if this slander were retailed to her."
"You may depend upon me, Miss Kirke. I hope, with you, that I shall never be called upon to fulfil the trust with which you have honored me. I am confident that Mrs. Baxter is ignorant of the particulars of her cousin's ill-health. She has spoken to me freely of her early life—of her marriage, and the seclusion that followed it."
"For which she blames my father!" interposed Eunice, red indignation staining her fair face. "Because he would not expose her to the indifferent or pitying observation of those who had been the associates of her brilliant girlhood; because he humored her longing for solitude and quiet; guarded her con-
