Chapter VII

Chapter VIIjulia's plot to break fanny's engagement[pg 066]Our readers will not be sorry, if after a chapter of sadness and death, we turn to a more joyous one, and tell them of the bridal of Kate Wilmot and Mr. Miller. Kate wished to defer it a few months, on account of the recent death of her brother, but her lover urged his claim so strongly that she at last yielded, and their marriage took place on Christmas eve. Mr. W——, one of the wealthiest men in Frankfort, very kindly offered to give Kate a splendid wedding party, but she politely declined his generous offer, as she did not feel like entering into such a scene of gayety as would necessarily attend a large party.A few of her most intimate friends assembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, and thence proceeded to the church, which was crowded with anxious spectators, many of whom almost envied Mr. Miller his beautiful bride, while others envied her the fine-looking man who stood there as the bridegroom, and all were unanimous in pronouncing it an excellent match. Kate's happiness on this occasion was not unmingled with sadness, for her thoughts went back to the time when, with a heart bursting with anguish, she had first entered that church and passed up its broad aisle until she reached the side of her darling brother, who lay shrouded in his coffin.Now the scene was changed; she was there as the happy bride of one to whom she had given the undivided affection of her heart, and as the solemn words were uttered which made her his forever, she felt that her brother's spirit hovered near, to bless her union with one who had ever been his true friend. So she requested that Fanny should be her bridesmaid, and the young girl now stood at the altar, with her bright face beaming with happiness, for Dr. Lacey, who was by her side, had, the night before, told her all his love, and had won from her a promise that at some future time she would be his. He told her that he would speak to her father the next evening.[pg 067]Accordingly, after the wedding party had returned to Mrs. Crane's, he invited Mr. Middleton to go with him for a few minutes to his room. Fanny was sure of her father's consent, but she could not help feeling nervous when she saw him leave the parlor, accompanied by Dr. Lacey. A few moments after, she observed that Julia also was missing, and she trembled lest she might have suspected something and gone to listen.Nor was she mistaken in her fears; for Mrs. Carrington and Julia both had an inkling of what was going on, and when the latter heard Dr. Lacey say something to her father in a low tone, and then saw them leave the room together, she arose and stealthily followed them upstairs. Going out on the balcony, she stole softly up to Dr. Lacey's window, and there, unobserved, listened to a conversation which confirmed her worst fears. In a firm, decided tone, Dr. Lacey told Mr. Middleton of his love for his daughter, and said she had promised to be his if her father would consent.Mr. Middleton replied, "And so it's my darter you want. Of course it's Sunshine?""Certainly, sir," answered Dr. Lacey."Well, I'm glad on't. I've seen it all along; but I didn't know but mebby Tempest had come it over you with her pretty face—but devil of a life you'd lead with her."Dr. Lacey did not reply, but Julia did; and though the tones of her voice were too low to be heard, they were none the less emphatic, as she said, "And devil of a life I'll make you lead if you do not have me." And at the same time she ground her glittering teeth and shook her clenched fist at the two men, who were unconscious of the rage they were exciting.Mr. Middleton continued, "Yes, I'll give you Sunshine, I reckon, and a hundred thousand dollars beside.""It's Fanny I want, not her money," said Dr. Lacey."Oh, yes, I know," answered Mr. Middleton; "but I reckon you won't object to a few thousand, unless you are as rich as a Jew."Dr. Lacey replied: "I am not as rich as a Jew, but I am the only child of my father, who is said to be worth half a million.""Half a million!" repeated Mr. Middleton in astonishment. "Golly-ludy, man, what made you ever think of a poor girl like Sunshine?""Because I love her," answered Dr. Lacey, "and I would marry her just as soon if she were not worth one dime."[pg 068]"Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn't," muttered Julia; "and perhaps you'll have her, and perhaps you won't. You've got me to deal with, and I'd like to see the person who can cross my path with impunity." So saying, she glided from her hiding place and went down stairs to the parlor, leaving her father and Dr. Lacey to finish their conversation.Dr. Lacey proposed that Fanny should continue at school two years longer, and at the end of that time he would claim her as his wife."Why, yes," said Mr. Middleton; "I s'pose I understand; you want her to be more accomplished like, afore you take her down to New Orleans. Well, it's perfectly nateral, and old Josh'll spar no pains nor money."And so the conference ended. When Dr. Lacey re-entered the parlor Fanny read success in his face. In a short time he managed to get near her, and bending down, whispered to her, "My own dear Fanny, forever." At these words a beautiful flush suffused Fanny's usually pale cheek. It was noticed by Julia, who was watching the doctor and her sister with a feeling of almost fiendish hatred. When she saw the bright look of joy which passed over Fanny's face as the doctor whispered to her, she pressed her small white hands together until her long transparent nails left their impress in her flesh!Just then Mr. Miller, with his wife upon his arm, approached the spot where the doctor was standing, and said, "Why, doctor, what has happened? You look almost as happy as I feel. And little Fanny, too, is really looking quite rosy. I should not be surprised if my wedding should be a prelude to another."Julia could hear no more, but sick with anger, she turned away, heartily wishing Mr. Miller was in California digging gold with the water six feet deep all around him! When the company began to disperse Dr. Lacey whispered to Fanny that he wished her to remain a few moments, as he had something to say to her. Accordingly, after the parlor was deserted, he drew her to the sofa and placing his arm around her, told her of the plan which he had marked out for her improvement during the next two years. To all that he required Fanny promised a cheerful compliance, and he proceeded to tell her how he would in the meantime beautify his Southern home, and fill it up with every luxury which could please a refined, delicate female. By the time he had finished Fanny was weeping from excess of happiness."It seems so strange," said she, "that you should prefer me to any one else, me, who am so plain looking, so—"[pg 069]"So pure-minded and innocent," interrupted Dr. Lacey, "and so lovely, too, for to me you are very handsome. Not as beautiful, perhaps, as Mrs. Miller, for there are few who are, and yet I like your looks quite as well."Fanny did not reply; after a moment's silence he said, "Fanny, I shall be obliged to go to New Orleans soon.""Go to New Orleans," said Fanny. "Oh, no, don't.""But I must," answered he. "Business of importance calls me there.""How soon must you go?""In two weeks," he replied."And how long will you be gone?""Probably three months," he answered. "But I shall write to you often; twice a week, perhaps, and you will find enough to do to answer my letters and attend to your studies, besides practicing your music lessons. By the way, Fanny, I wish you to pay particular attention to music, for you know I am very fond of it."Fanny promised that she would, and they separated for the night. While Fanny was going to her room, she determined she would tell Julia all her future prospects; but she found her sister either asleep or pretending to be (the latter was the fact); so she said nothing, but lay down without disturbing her. She could not sleep, however, and toward morning Julia called out, in no very gentle tones, "Do lie still, Fan, or else get up and go down in the parlor and have another tete-a-tete with Dr. Lacey."Fanny saw that her sister was awake, and she resolved to improve the opportunity, even if Julia were not in a very gentle mood. So she said, "Sister, I want to tell you something; wake up, won't you?""Wake up!" answered Julia. "I should like to know who's been asleep, or who can sleep where you are? What is the great secret you wish to tell me?"With many blushes and some stammering Fanny got through with her story. After she had finished Julia was silent a few moments and then said, "Well, what of it? What if Dr. Lacey has promised to marry you? Is that any reason why you should keep me awake all night?"Fanny did not answer, and as her mind was relieved from the weighty matter of telling her sister, she soon fell asleep, and when she awoke the sun was high in the heavens, and Mrs. Miller was bending over her, wishing her a "Merry Christmas!" That day there was sent to Mrs. Crane's a large box, which Dr. Lacey was very particular to have[pg 070]handled carefully. When it was opened it was found to contain an elegant rosewood piano, and a note in which was written, "A Christmas Gift for Fanny." The delighted girl did not ask who was the giver, for she well knew; and resolved to apply herself closely to music, so as to do justice to the beautiful present.The two weeks of Dr. Lacey's stay passed rapidly away, and at their close he bade Fanny an affectionate good-by, promising to write regularly twice a week, and to return, if possible, at the end of three months. After he was gone, it seemed to Fanny that one-half of her life had left her, and she felt very unhappy. There was something in her sister's manner which she could not define, and as Julia seemed anxious to avoid her, she spent much of her time with Mrs. Miller, who each day grew fonder of her little "Kentucky sister," as she often called her in imitation of her brother.Meanwhile Julia spent all her leisure hours with Mrs. Carrington, to whom she confided her feelings and wishes. Mrs. Carrington was not displeased to find that Julia was determined to break the engagement between Dr. Lacey and Fanny, and secretly hoped she would succeed. Not that she wished to aid Julia in securing the doctor, for such was not her intention. Neither did she look upon such an event as possible, for she felt sure that Dr. Lacey never would fancy Julia, even if there were no Fannys in the world; and supposing he did, she could easily remedy it by exposing Julia's wickedness.In due course of time a letter arrived for Fanny from Dr. Lacey. It was a well-filled sheet and so full of affection and kind suggestions for her improvement, that Fanny felt an increased pleasure in thinking that she was the object of Dr. Lacey's love. Julia watched her with an evil eye, as she read the letter, and when she saw the look of joy which lit up every feature, she thought, "Yes, read on and enjoy it—do—for you'll not get many more such!"That day after school she started out for the purpose of laying the foundation for the fulfillment of a part of her plans. There was in the post-office a clerk whose name was Joseph Dunn. He was an awkward, rawboned young man, about six feet two inches high. Until within a few months he had lived near Mr. Middleton. He had a yellow face, yellow hair and yellow teeth, the latter of which projected over his under lip. He also drove a very yellow horse and rode in a yellow buggy. In his own estimation he was perfectly irresistible, and imagined he had only to say the word and all the girls in the country would eagerly accept the offer of being mistress[pg 071]of his fancy colored horse and person. For Fanny he had conceived a violent passion and wondered much that she should repel all his serious advances. At last he wrote her a letter saying that on a certain afternoon he would visit her and make a formal offer of his hand. He bade her weigh the matter seriously, so that she would have no one to blame but herself, if she should ever regret answering in the affirmative.Fanny was very much annoyed by this letter and when on the afternoon specified she saw old "sorrel" coming up to the gate, she said, "Father, there is Joe coming here to offer me the honor of becoming Mrs. Dunn. He troubles me exceedingly with his attentions, and I wish you would manage to make him keep away."Thus enlightened, Mr. Middleton was ready for any emergency, and he answered Joe's confident knock in person. The young man greeted him with a very polite, "Good afternoon," to which Mr. Middleton returned with a significant "umph!""Is your daughter Fanny at home?" asked Mr. Dunn."Yes, she's at home," said Mr. Middleton. "What d'ye want of her?""I should like to have a few moments' private conference with her, if you've no objection, sir," replied Mr. Dunn."A few moments private fiddlestick," answered Mr. Middleton. "What the devil—whose little boy are you? Ain't you Miss Dunn's little boy? You'd better scratch gravel for home, and if I catch you here again dickerin' after Fanny, I'll pull every corn-colored hair out of your head!"This rebuff somewhat cooled the ardor of Joseph's attachment, and as he felt sure that Fanny had told her father of his coming, he from that time disliked her as much as he had before admired her. Not long after the sad finale of his affaire de coeur, he left his home in the country, and going to Frankfort became a clerk in the post office. Julia well knew the old grudge which he had toward Fanny, and as he did not possess the best principles in the world, she had strong hopes of procuring his services for the accomplishment of her purpose. Accordingly, at about half past five she bent her steps in the direction of the post office, hoping to see him in the street, for she knew that he usually went to his supper at that hour. She had not gone far beyond the post office when he overtook her. She greeted him with her blandest smile, and as she seemed inclined to be very sociable, he slackened his pace for the sake of walking with her. They had not proceeded far when she said, "Mr. Dunn, if you are not in a[pg 072]particular hurry, I should like to have you walk on with me, as I have something to communicate to you."Joseph was delighted, and yet he knew not what to think. The haughty Julia had formerly treated him with disdain; but within a week or two her conduct toward him had changed, and she seemed to seek his society, and now she had even asked him to walk with her. What could it mean? He was not long kept in ignorance, for in a few words Julia explained her wishes. "You know, Mr. Dunn," said she, "that I have money and I am willing to pay you almost any amount, and then it is such a rare opportunity for being revenged upon Fanny, who did abuse you shamefully, and even now makes all manner of fun of you. It will not be much trouble for you," she continued, "for you can watch our box, and whenever a letter arrives from Dr. Lacey, you can lay it aside until you have an opportunity of giving it to me, and you can do the same with Fanny's letters!"Joseph did not hesitate long, for the love of money was strong in him, and he also had a desire for revenging his fancied insult. Julia's manner toward him was not without its effect, for he felt greatly flattered that she should choose him for a confidant; so at last he promised to accede to her proposal on condition that he was well paid."It will be well enough," said Julia, "to let her have three or four letters, as it would not be natural for him to forget her immediately, you know.""Oh, yes, ma'am," said Mr. Dunn, "I understand how to do it. Never fear but I'll fix it right.""Well, then, here is a part of your pay in advance," said Julia, as she slipped a ten-dollar note into his hand. At first he seemed inclined not to take it but finally did so, saying, "I suppose I ought to be paid, for it's mighty ticklish business."After having arranged affairs to her satisfaction, Julia bade Mr. Dunn a very friendly good night, and returned home where she found Fanny employed in writing an answer to Dr. Lacey's letter. Here, for the present, we will leave them, until Julia's plot has time to ripen.Chapter VIIImr. middleton has more callers from new york[pg 073]The reader will now accompany us to Geneva, one of the most beautiful villages in Western New York. On arriving at the depot we are beset by a host of runners, who call out lustily, "Temperance House!" "Franklin House!" "Geneva Hotel!" "Carriage to any part of the village for a shilling!" But we prefer walking, and passing up Water Street, and Seneca street, we soon come to Main street, which we follow until we come to a large, elegant mansion, the property of Judge Fulton, who is that evening entertaining a fashionable party. No matter if we are not invited, we can enter unperceived and note down what is taking place.Our attention is first directed toward the judge and his accomplished lady, who are doing the honors of the evening. As we scan their looks closely, we are struck with their features, and we feel sure that to them wealth was not given in vain, and that the beggar never left their door unfed or uncared for.Mrs. Fulton's countenance looks very familiar to us, and we wonder much where we have seen her before, or if we never have seen her, who it is that she so strongly reminds us of. Before we can solve the mystery, we observe across the room a face which makes us start up and exclaim, "Is it possible! Can that be Dr. Lacey?" A second look at the gentleman in question convinces us that he is two inches shorter than Dr. Lacey, and also that he wears glasses; still be bears a striking resemblance to the doctor, and we inquire who he is. We are told that his name is Robert Stanton. He is a graduate of Yale and a brother of Mrs. Fulton, He is intending in a few days to start for Kentucky, in company with Frederic Raymond, who was a classmate of his.As we watch young Stanton's movements, we observe a certain restlessness in his eye, as it wanders over the crowded room, seemingly in quest of some one who is not there. At last there is a new arrival, and Miss Warner, a very prim lady and a teacher in the seminary, is announced, together[pg 074]with three of her pupils. As the young girls enter the parlor, Mr. Stanton seems suddenly animated with new life, and we feel sure that one of those young ladies has a great attraction for him. Nor are we mistaken, for he soon crosses the room, and going up to one of them, a rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed girl, he says in a low tone, "I am glad you have come, Nellie. I had almost given you up, and concluded you were doing penance for some misdemeanor, and so could not come out." Then taking her upon his arm, he kept her near him all the evening.There was a strange history connected with Helen Ashton, or Nellie, as she was more familiarly called, but of this we will speak hereafter. She was formerly a member of the young ladies' school in New Haven, where she had become acquainted with Robert Stanton, who was in college. An intimacy sprang up between them which at last ripened into an agreement. Stanton's home was near Geneva, and when he left college he suddenly discovered that the Geneva Seminary was superior to any other, and with but little trouble he persuaded Nellie to go there to school.She had now been an inmate of the seminary in that place little more than a year, during which time Robert had pursued the study of law in Judge Fulton's office. He had always possessed a great desire to visit Kentucky, and had finally concluded to do so, determining if he liked it to make it his permanent residence. He was to return the next autumn for Nellie, who was to remain in school until that time.As they stood together that evening conversing about Kentucky, Nellie said, "I have an old schoolmate in Frankfort. It is Kate Wilmot. Do you remember having seen her in New Haven?""Is she very beautiful?" asked Robert."Oh, yes, exceedingly so. She turned half the students' heads," answered Nellie."Yes, I remember her perfectly well," said Frederic Raymond, who was standing near, "and so does Bob, but he wants to pretend he does not. By the way, Miss Ashton," continued he, "are you not afraid that Kate's marvelous beauty will endanger your claim upon Robert's heart, when he shall be near her constantly, and can only think of your blue eyes as 'over the hills and far away?'"Helen blushed, but did not answer, and Stanton said, "Never fear for me, Fred, but rather keep your own heart safely locked away, for fear some of those dark-eyed Kentucky girls will, ere you are aware, rifle you of it.""I shall do no such thing," returned Frederic. "I am going[pg 075]there for the express purpose of losing my heart, and the first Kentucky girl which pleases me shall be my wife, any way.""Whether she likes you or not?" asked Nellie."Yes, whether she likes me or not," answered Frederic, "I shall marry her first, and make her like me afterward."So saying he sauntered off to another part of the room, little thinking that what he had spoken in jest would afterward prove true. At a late hour the company began to disperse, Miss Warner keeping a watchful eye upon her pupils, lest some lawless collegiate should relieve her from the trouble of seeing them safely home. This perpendicular maiden had lived forty years on this mundane sphere without ever having had an offer, and she had come to think of gentlemen as a race of intruding bipeds which the world would be much better without. However, if there were any of the species which she could tolerate, it was Judge Fulton and Robert Stanton. The former she liked, because everybody liked him, and said he was a "nice man, and what everybody said must be true." Her partiality for the latter arose from the fact that he had several times complimented her fine figure and dignified manners; so when he that night asked the privilege of walking home with Nellie, she raised no very strong opposition, but yielded the point by merely saying something about "child's play." She, however, kept near enough to them to hear every word of their conversation; but they consoled themselves by thinking that the wide-open ears could not penetrate the recesses of their well-filled letters which they saw in the future.In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening before they left was spent by Stanton in Nellie's company. Mrs. Fulton had invited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home. About ten o'clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retired to her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour of midnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of Judge Fulton's sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for the hundredth time vows of eternal constancy.The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train died away in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her little room at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide, wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeks followed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upon their newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan's[pg 076]prayer, that God would protect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in the world.The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts, and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor both early and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city of New York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in a wealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," which meant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor to kitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening. It was almost always eleven o'clock before she could steal away to her low bed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, would the desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt would look in pity upon the helpless orphan.Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where she lived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Something there was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice, and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom she lived."She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only let books alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitable for one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have a book before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will get down and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned.""And has she no relatives?" asked the gentleman."None living that I know of," said Mrs. Stanley; and then she added, "Nellie says she had a brother who was several years older than herself, and that three years ago he was one morning missing, and they found on his table a letter, saying that he had gone to sea on a whaling voyage, and would be gone three years. Her father afterward heard that the vessel in which his son sailed was supposed to be lost with all its crew. This is her story; but you can never tell how much to believe of the stories which such girls tell.""Did you ever detect her in a falsehood?" asked the gentleman."Why, no, I never did; but of course she will equivocate, for all such paupers will.""With whom did she live before she came here?" continued the gentleman."With a Mr. Barnard," answered Mrs. Stanley; and she continued laughingly, "You had better inquire about her of[pg 077]him, as you seem so much interested in her. He lives out a few miles in the country."The result of the conversation was that the Mr. Barnard mentioned above received the next day a call from a stranger, who made particular inquiry about little Helen Ashton. He seemed satisfied with the result, and as he had before learned that Mr. Barnard was a very good, honest man, he handed him five hundred dollars, telling him to take Nellie home—as she called Mr. Barnard's house—and to send her for two years to the district school. At the end of that time he would furnish funds for her to be educated in New Haven.There was great excitement in Mrs. Stanley's family when it was known that Nellie was to go away and be sent to school in New Haven. "I wonder," said Mrs. Stanley, "who pays the expenses? It can't be Judge —— (naming the gentleman who had seemed so much interested in Nellie), for I am sure he would not be stupid enough to take a street beggar, as it were, and educate her." A second thought convinced her that it must be the said gentleman, and she suddenly felt an inclination to do something herself for the hitherto neglected kitchen girl.Accordingly, Nellie was summoned to the parlor and the state of her wardrobe inquired into. It was found to be lamentably deficient in even the necessary articles of clothing. Mrs. Stanley then turned her rag bag inside out and rummaged through several boxes in the garret which had not seen the light for several years. The result of her search was three or four cast-off garments, which the cook said "were so bad the rag man would hardly buy them." Mrs. Stanley, however, thought they were quite a gift, and gave Nellie many injunctions as to when she should wear them. Nellie thought it doubtful whether she should wear them all; but she said nothing, and in a few days she left Mrs. Stanley's house for a more pleasant home at Mr. Barnard's.It was a great mystery to Nellie who it could be that had befriended her; but if Mr. Barnard knew, he kept the knowledge to himself, and Nellie was obliged to remain in ignorance. She was, however, satisfied that the gentleman, whoever he was, was both able and willing to carry out his plan, for money for the payment of her school bills was regularly remitted to Mr. Barnard. At the time when she wished to leave New Haven, she had written to Mr. Barnard on the subject, and in due time had received from him a letter saying that the gentleman who was educating her was not only willing but anxious to have her sent to Geneva.[pg 078]Soon after her arrival there she chanced to meet Judge Fulton and his wife. Something in their looks seemed familiar, and also awoke a painful reminiscence of the dark kitchen and the lone garret far off in the great city. She could not remember ever having seen them, and so dismissed the subject from her mind, merely wondering if they knew that she who was to be their brother's wife once lighted fires and cleaned potatoes as a common servant girl.The reader will perhaps have imagined that the gentleman who befriended Nellie was none other than Judge Fulton. He was incited to this act of kindness by the same benevolent feeling which prompted all his deeds of charity. He had no daughters, and his intention was, first to see what improvement she would make of her advantages, and if he were satisfied, he would take her home as his adopted daughter. He was somewhat surprised when, two years before the time of which we are speaking, he received through Mr. Barnard a letter from Nellie addressed to, "My unknown benefactor," and desiring his consent to an engagement between herself and Robert Stanton. The same mail brought a letter from Robert, saying that he had just made an offer of his hand to a Miss Helen Ashton, who was only waiting for her guardian to sanction her choice. Judge Fulton's consent was given, and he wrote to Nellie that before she was married he would make himself known to her, and give her a wedding at his own house.A few days before Robert left for Kentucky Judge Fulton received another letter from Nellie, saying that it was Mr. Stanton's wish to be married the ensuing autumn. To this the judge gave his approval and determined as soon as Robert was gone to enlighten Nellie as to who her guardian was. This, then, was the history of Nellie Ashton, whom we will leave for a time, and as our readers are probably anxious to return to the bland climate of Kentucky, we will follow young Stanton and Raymond on their journey. Having arrived at Buffalo, they took passage in the steamboat Saratoga, which landed them safely in Sandusky after a trip of about twenty-four hours. At Sandusky they took the cars for Cincinnati.As they neared the Queen City, they noticed at one of the stations a tall, intelligent, but rather reckless-looking young man, who entered the cars and took a seat directly opposite them. There was something peculiarly attractive to Raymond in the confident, self-possessed manner of the stranger, and ere long he had, to use a Yankee expression, "scraped acquaintance" with him, and learned that his name was Henry[pg 079]Ashton, and that he too was on his way to Frankfort, where he resided. As the young man told his name, Raymond turned to Stanton and said, "I should think that you'd feel acquainted with this gentleman, you are so partial to his name."Stanton did not answer, and Raymond proceeded to question Mr. Ashton about Frankfort and its inhabitants. "By the way," said he, "are there any pretty girls there? Substantial ones, I mean, who have a purse long enough to pay a fellow for the trouble of marrying them?"Mr. Ashton smiled and answered, "Yes, we have a good many, and rich ones too; but the belle of the city when I left was a Mrs. Carrington—""The plague it was!" interrupted Raymond, "and can't we get rid of her husband somehow? Won't he die of yellow fever, cholera or something? Or is he a gouty old wretch, who will live forever?""You prevented me from telling you," said Mr. Ashton, "that Mr. Carrington has died since I left there. But you will hardly win this fair, haughty lady, unless you can plank about a million. But there are other faces quite as pretty, I think. There is a Julia Middleton, who is attending school. She is a great beauty, but, if report speaks truly, she would keep you busily employed in curbing her high temper.""No matter about the temper—has she got the dimes?" said Raymond."About one hundred thousand dollars, I think," answered Ashton; "but one would need to be paid that much for having such a fury as she is, and such a queer old rat as her father."He then proceeded to enumerate some of Mr. Middleton's oddities, at all of which his auditors laughed heartily, and expressed their determination to make the old man's acquaintance as soon as possible. When the young men reached Cincinnati, they concluded to take the stage route to Lexington and Versailles, and to pay Mr. Middleton a visit before they proceeded to Frankfort. Accordingly on Thursday afternoon, just as the sun was setting, they entered Mr. Middleton's yard, where they were received by the dogs, with just such a demonstration of anger as had greeted Mr. Wilmot more than a year before.The master of the house was this time at home, and soon appearing at the door, he called out to the negroes who were in the yard, "Ho, thar, boys! Stuff your woolly heads down them tarnal dogs' throats and make them stop their yellin'! Glad to see you—walk in. Moses and Aaron! If this ain't Ashton from Frankfort. How d'ye do? How d'ye do?"[pg 080]Mr. Ashton shook hands with him, and then introduced his companions, saying they were from New York. The word New York seemed to thrill Mr. Middleton's nerves like an electric shock. He seized both hands of the young men and exclaimed, "From New York, hey? Then thrice welcome to my old cabin and hominy; old Josh's door is allus wide open to folks from New York." Then leading the way to the sitting room, he continued, "Yes, my own noble boy was from New York, but he died (this is my old woman Nancy, gentlemen). I don't see why in the old Harry he couldn't of lived. But he died and they kivered him up while I was gone, and I never seen him no more. Ho! Here, Tilda, fetch some hot water and make a little sling for these chaps. It'll do 'em good, as it's mighty cold and raw like out o' door."The sling was made, and Ashton and Raymond drank readily and freely; but when it was offered to Stanton, he modestly but firmly refused. "What upon airth!" said Mr. Middleton, "not drink when a friend asks you? Why, boy, just take a swaller."Here Raymond, who was ready to adopt Mr. Middleton's language and manners, exclaimed, "I'll tell you what, old boy, Bob's left a sweetheart in New York, and I fancy she lectured him on intemperance, for you know the women are dead set against it."Mr. Middleton looked first at Raymond, then at Stanton and said, "Well, he knows good sense by not touchin' on't, I reckon. Got a sweetheart, hey? That's better than to come here and marry some of our spitfires. Poor boy! Dick was engaged to one of 'em, and I've hearn that she raised a tantareen and broke his heart. But I'll fix her! I'll dock off fifty thousand to pay for that caper."Here Mr. Ashton asked if Mr. Middleton's daughters were still at Frankfort. "Yes," returned Mr. Middleton, "both thar, study in' all the flat things you can think on, and thummin' away on the pianner. You'll see 'em thar; but mind me one and all, mind I say, don't fall in love with Sunshine, for she's engaged, and I've gin my consent, and whoever meddles in that match'll find Josh after 'em!" By way of adding emphasis to his words he brought his fist back against a work-stand, on which stood his wife's work basket. The stand was upset, and all the articles of the basket rolled on the floor. "Great Peter!" said Mr. Middleton, "ho, Tilda, come pick up these 'ere things!"Tilda came at the call of her master. While she was replacing the articles in her mistress' basket, Raymond, who[pg 081]wished to show that he was ready to adopt all the peculiarities of the State, said, "That's a valuable looking negro girl. I suppose your property mostly consists in such as she. I don't wonder that you object to give them up just to please the North. Have you many such?""Yes, quite a heap on 'em. Why? Want to steal 'em, hey?"Raymond reddened. His attempts at anti-abolition had not succeeded as well as he anticipated; but he soon rallied and said, "Certainly not; I shouldn't know what to do with your slaves if I had them; besides I have no inclination to interfere with your Southern institutions. I am too much of a pro-slavery man myself.""Likely enough," said Mr. Middleton, rather gruffly, for he did not much like the appearance of Raymond, "likely enough. But, young man, let old Josh give you a little advice. I've seen more than double your years, I reckon, and I never seen a man come from the free states that wasn't a little teched with abolitionism. It's nateral like and onnateral to change their mind so mighty soon. So I advise you to keep your opinions to yourself for a spell, any way. A heap on 'em come here, and are surprised not to find a whippin' post stuck up in a corner of every yard. I don't say you are one of 'em; but we don't think no better of a body when they jine in with us so soon."This speech somewhat disconcerted young Raymond, who was anxious to get into Mr. Middleton's good graces; but his discomfiture was soon removed by his saying, "Boy, don't take what I've said in high dudgeon. Folks allus see the roughest side of me first; I'm a friend to you, and allus will be as long as you do well." Then chancing to think his guests were hungry, he called out, "Saints and angels! Why don't you bring in supper, you lazy bones thar in the kitchen? Do you hear?""Yes, marster," said three or four negroes at once, "supper'll be ready d'rectly."In a few moments the nicely-cooked spare-rib was smoking on the table, together with hot coffee, boiled turnips and egg bread, which Southern cooks know so well how to make. Besides this there was the golden-colored butter, white flaky honeycomb, and the Sunday pitcher overflowing with rich creamy milk. "Come, boys, set by and have some fodder!" said Mr. Middleton.The young gentlemen took their seats at the table and Mr. Middleton continued, "Now lay into 't and help yourselves. I ain't used to perlite strains, and if I should try you'd all larf[pg 082]at me—mebby you want to now. Tempest say's I'm enough to make a dog larf.""Who is Tempest? One of your servants?" asked Stanton."Christopher Columbus! One of my servants!" answered Mr. Middleton. "How Tempest would rar to hear that. Why, she's my oldest gal.""I beg your pardon," said Stanton."Not a bit on't," answered Mr. Middleton. "I don't wonder you thought so, such an oudun name! Her real name is Julia, but I call her Tempest, 'case that's jist like her. She's a regular thunderstorm of lightning, hail and iron slugs. You'll see her in Frankfort. Goin' into the law thar, are you?"Stanton answered that he thought he should."Well," said Mr. Middleton, "I'll give you all my suits, just because you wouldn't drink and tell a lie to that little gal at home. I despise liars. Let me catch a body telling me a lie, I tell you—"Here he lifted up his huge foot which was encased in a cowhide boot, something smaller than a canal-boat. He gave the table a kick which set all the spoons, knives and forks to dancing, spilt the milk and upset the gravy pot."Why, Mr. Middleton!" interposed his wife."I am sorry, honey," said he, "but I'll be hanged if that ar sling ain't gettin' the better of the old man."After supper was over and the effects of the sling had left Mr. Middleton's head, he inquired further into the intentions of his guests. On learning that Mr. Raymond would teach, if he could get the chance, Mr. Middleton said, "I reckon you can teach in Mr. Miller's school. I'll write to him about you, and I reckon he can make room for you."It was well for Raymond that Mr. Middleton did not observe his smile of contempt at the idea of being recommended by such an "old cur," as he secretly styled him.At a late hour Mr. Middleton conducted the young men to their room, saying as they entered it, "This was Dick's room, poor dear boy! For his sake I wish 'twas better, for it was sometimes cold like in the winter; but he's warm enough now, I reckon, poor fellow!" So saying, he left the room; but Stanton noticed upon the old tin candlestick which his host had put upon the table something which looked very much like tears, so large that he was sure no one but Mr. Middleton could have wept them.Chapter IXthe resemblance of the cousins[pg 083]Among Mr. Middleton's negroes there was a boy twelve years of age whose name was Bob. On the morning following the incidents narrated in the last chapter, Bob was sent up to make a fire for "the young marsters." He had just coaxed the coal and kindlings into a blaze, when Raymond awoke, and spying the negro, called out, "Hello, there! Tom, Dick, Harry, what may be your name?""My name is Bob, sar.""Oh, Bob is it? Bob what? Have you no other name?""No, sar, 'cept it's Marster Josh. I 'longs to him.""Belong to Master Josh, do you? His name isn't Josh, it is Joshua.""Yes, marster.""Well, then, Bob, if his name is Joshua, what must yours be?" said Raymond."Dun know, unless it's Bobaway," answered the negro, with a broad grin."Bobaway! That's rich," said Raymond, laughing heartily at the rapid advancement of his pupil.After a moment's pause, he again called out, "I say, Bobaway, did it snow last night?""No, sar, it didn't snow; it done frosted," said Bob."Done frosted, hey?" said Raymond. "You're a smart boy, Bob. What'll you sell yourself for?""Dun know; hain't nothing to sell 'cept my t'other hat and a bushel of hickory-nuts," answered Bob; "but I reckon how marster ax about five hundred, 'case I's right spry when I hain't got the rheumatiz.""Got the rheumatiz, have you, Bob? Where?""In my belly, sar," answered Bob. Here the young men burst into a loud laugh, and Raymond said, "Five hundred is cheap, Bob; I'll give more than that."Bob opened his large white eyes to their utmost extent, and looking keenly at Raymond slowly quitted the room.[pg 084]On reaching the kitchen he told Aunt Judy, who was his mother, "that ef marster ever acted like he was goin' for to sell him to that ar chap, what poked fun at him, he'd run away, sartin.""And be cotched and git shet up," said Aunt Judy."I'd a heap rather be shet up 'tarnally than to 'long to anybody 'sides Marster Josh," said Bob.During breakfast Mr. Middleton suddenly exclaimed, while looking at Stanton, "I've been tryin' ever since you've been here to think who you look like, and I've jest thought. It's Dr. Lacey.""Who, sir?" said Stanton in some surprise."Dr. Lacey. D'ye know him?" asked Mr. Middleton."Dr. Lacey of New Orleans?" asked Stanton."The same," returned Mr. Middleton. "You look as much like him as two peas, only you wear goggles. Connection of your'n I reckon?""Yes, sir," answered Stanton, "he is my cousin. I have been told that we resemble each other.""By Jupiter!" said Mr. Middleton, "that's just the checker. No wonder I like you so well. And Dr. Lacey goin' to marry Sunshine, too. Your sweetheart ought to look like Fanny. Got her picter, hey?"Stanton handed him Nellie's daguerreotype, and he pretended to discover a close resemblance between her and Fanny; but neither Mrs. Middleton, nor Mr. Ashton could trace any, for which Mr. Middleton called them both blockheads."I think," said Mrs. Middleton, "that she looks more like Mr. Ashton than she does like Fanny.""It is similarity of name which makes her resemble him," said Raymond."Why, is her name Ashton?" asked Middleton."Yes, sir," said Stanton."Mebbe she's your sister, Ashton. But Lord knows she don't look no more like you than she does like old Josh.""She cannot be my sister," said Ashton, "for I had but one, and she is dead."After breakfast Mr. Middleton ordered out his carriage and bade Ike drive the gentlemen to Frankfort."I'd go myself," said he, "but I've got a fetched headache. Give my love to my gals and tell them I'm comin' to see 'em shortly. You'd better go to the Whizzakor House, till you find out whether or not Miss Crane 'll board you."The young men thanked him for his hospitality, and bade[pg 085]him good morning. As they were leaving the yard they passed Bob, who was still limping with the "rheumatiz." Raymond bade Ike stop, while he threw "Bobaway" some pennies. Bob picked them up and looked at them with a rueful face."What's the matter, Bobaway?" asked Raymond. "Don't they suit?""No, sir," said Bob. "I like fopences; I don't want nothin' of these old iron rocks."Each of the men threw Bob a sixpence, for which they were rewarded with a sight of his ivories and a loud "thank-ee-sar." After a ride of two hours they reached the Weisiger House in Frankfort. Soon after arriving there, Mr. Ashton introduced Stanton into one of the best law offices in the town, and then repaired to his former lodgings.In the course of the afternoon Raymond sought out Mr. Miller, and with a somewhat quizzical face handed him Mr. Middleton's letter of introduction. After reading it, Mr. Miller offered his hand to Raymond, and said, "I am glad, Mr. Raymond, that you happened here just at this time, for my school is large, and I am in want of a classical teacher. You are a graduate of Yale, it seems?""Yes, sir," returned Raymond; "and by the way, Mr. Middleton told me that you had won a New Haven girl—Miss Kate Wilmot. I knew her very well.""Ah, is it possible?" said Mr. Miller, his face beaming. "Come with me to Mrs. Crane's," said he. "Kate will be glad to see an old friend.""Thank you," answered Raymond; "but I have a companion with me, a Mr. Stanton, who also knew Miss Wilmot. He is going into a law office here. We both of us intend calling at Mrs. Crane's this evening, and if possible we shall procure board there."So they parted, and Raymond returned to the Weisiger House, while Mr. Miller hastened home to make some inquiries concerning his new assistant, and to inform Mrs. Crane of her prospect for more boarders.That evening Stanton and Raymond called. They found assembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Carrington and Julia. Kate instantly recognized the young gentlemen as old acquaintances, and presented them to her friends. When Stanton entered the room all observed the strong resemblance between him and Dr. Lacey. At last Mr. Miller spoke of it, and Stanton replied, "Yes, I've been told so before. Dr. Lacey is my cousin."[pg 086]"Indeed!" said Mr. Miller. Then turning to his wife, he added, "Where is Fanny? She ought to be here. It might do her as much good as seeing the doctor himself.""I should like to see Miss Fanny," said Stanton, "as I am told she is to be my cousin."A malicious smile curled Julia's lip, as she thought, "I think it is very doubtful whether she is ever your cousin"; but Mrs. Miller arose and said, "I think she is in her room. I will call her."Going to Fanny's room she knocked gently at the door; there was no response, and she knocked again more loudly. But still there was no answer; and Mrs. Miller thought she could distinguish a low, stifled sob. Pushing open the door, she saw the usually gay-hearted Fanny seated on the floor, her head resting on a chair, over which her hair fell like a golden gleam of sunlight. A second glance convinced Kate that Fanny was weeping."Why, Fanny," said she, "what is the matter? What are you crying for?"Fanny did not reply, but as Mrs. Miller drew her up from the floor and placed her on the sofa, she laid her head in Kate's lap and wept still more passionately. At length Mrs. Miller succeeded in soothing her, and then insisted on knowing what was the cause of her distress."Oh," said Fanny, "do not ask me, for I can only tell you that nobody loves me long at a time—nobody but my dear old father, mother, and the blacks.""You should not say so, Fanny dear," said Kate. "You know we all love you very much, and you say that within a few weeks Julia has been uniformly kind and affectionate to you.""Yes, I know she is, but—""But what?" said Mrs. Miller. "Anything the trouble with Dr. Lacey?""Yes, that's it! That's it!" said Fanny in a low voice."Why, what's the matter? Is he sick?" asked Kate."Oh, no. If he were I would go to him. But, Mrs. Miller, for four long weeks he has not written me one word. Now if he were sick or dead, somebody would write to me; but it isn't that—I am afraid he's false. Julia thinks he is, and she is sorry for me, there is some comfort in that.""Not written in four weeks? Perhaps he has written and his letters have been miscarried," said Kate."Oh, no, that cannot be," answered Fanny. "His first[pg 087]four letters came in the course of two weeks, but since then I have not had a word.""Have you written to him since his letters ceased?" asked Kate."Yes, once, and I am sorry I did," answered Fanny; "but I asked Julia if I had better, and she said it would do no harm.""Perhaps," said Mrs. Miller, "he is intending to return soon and wishes to surprise you, or it may be he is testing the strength of your attachment. But I would not suffer myself to be so much distressed until I was sure he was false. Come, dry your eyes and go with me to the parlor. There are some young gentlemen here from New York. One of them is Dr. Lacey's cousin. He wishes to see you.""Oh, no, no!" said Fanny, quickly. "I cannot go down. You must excuse me to him."So Mrs. Miller returned to the parlor, and said Fanny was not feeling very well and wished to be excused.Stanton and Raymond passed a very pleasant evening, and ere its close they had arranged with Mrs. Crane for rooms and board. On their way to the hotel, Raymond suddenly exclaimed, "I say, Bob, I'm head over heels in love!""In love with whom?" was Stanton's quiet reply."In love with whom?" repeated Raymond. "Why, Bob, is it possible your head is so full of Nellie Ashton that you do not know that we have been in company this evening with a perfect Hebe, an angel, a divine creature?""Please stop," said Stanton, "and not deal in so many superlatives. Which of the fair ladies made such havoc with your heart? Was it Mrs. Crane?""Mrs. Crane! Witch of Endor just as soon," answered Raymond. "Why, man alive, 'twas the beautiful Mrs. Carrington. I tell you what, Bob, my destiny is upon me and she is its star. I see in her my future wife.""Why, Fred," said Mr. Stanton, "are you crazy? Mrs. Carrington is at least nearly thirty-five, and you are not yet twenty-five.""I don't care for that," replied Raymond. "She may be thirty, and she may be a hundred, but she looks sixteen. Such glorious eyes I never saw. And she almost annihilated me with one of her captivating smiles. Her name, too, is my favorite.""Her name? Pray, how did you learn her name?" asked Stanton."Why," answered Raymond, "you know we were talking[pg 088]together a part of the evening. Our conversation turned upon names, and I remarked that Ida was my favorite. Bob, you ought to have seen her smile as she told me Ida was her own name. Perhaps I said something foolish, for I replied that Ida was a beautiful name and only fitted for such as she; but she smiled still more sweetly and said I knew how to flatter.""Well," answered Stanton. "I hardly think you will win her, if what our friend Ashton said is true. You have no million to offer her.""Oh, fly on your million!" said Raymond. "She's got to have me any way. If I can't get her by fair means, I'll resort to stratagem."Thus the young man raved for nearly half an hour about Mrs. Carrington, whose handsome features, glossy curls, bright eyes, brilliant complexion and agreeable manners had nearly turned his head. Mrs. Carrington, too, had received an impression. There was something in Raymond's dashing manner, which she called "air," and she felt greatly pleased with his flattering compliments. She thought he would be a very pleasant companion to flirt with for an hour or two; but could she have known what his real intentions concerning her were she would have spurned him with contempt—as she afterward did.The next day at dinner Stanton and Raymond took their seats at Mrs. Crane's table. To Raymond's great delight Mrs. Carrington sat opposite him. Stanton occupied Dr. Lacey's seat, which brought Fanny directly in front of him. Fanny had been prepared in a measure for the striking resemblance between Stanton and Dr. Lacey; but when she was introduced to him, his looks brought Dr. Lacey so forcibly before her that she instantly grew pale and half wished to leave the room. But a look from Mrs. Miller reassured her, and she took her accustomed place at the table.Ere dinner was over she had forgotten for the time her lover's neglect, and was in the midst of an animated conversation with Stanton, who was much pleased with his cousin's choice. Stanton's looks and manners were so much like Dr. Lacey's that Fanny felt herself irresistibly drawn toward him and her face assumed a brighter aspect than it had worn for many days. Julia watched her closely and felt that nothing could please her better than a flirtation between Stanton and her sister.But such was not a part of Fanny's intentions. She liked Stanton because he was agreeable, intelligent and Dr.[pg 089]Lacey's cousin; but she would sooner have parted with her right hand than have done anything inconsistent with her engagement with Dr. Lacey. On the other hand, Stanton's heart was too strongly fortified with Nellie's charms to admit of an entrance to the gentle Fanny. But he admired her very much, and seemed to think that she had some claim upon him in the absence of his cousin.Thus, as days went on, his polite attentions toward Fanny increased, and Julia resolved to make this fact work for the accomplishment of her designs.

Chapter VIIjulia's plot to break fanny's engagement[pg 066]Our readers will not be sorry, if after a chapter of sadness and death, we turn to a more joyous one, and tell them of the bridal of Kate Wilmot and Mr. Miller. Kate wished to defer it a few months, on account of the recent death of her brother, but her lover urged his claim so strongly that she at last yielded, and their marriage took place on Christmas eve. Mr. W——, one of the wealthiest men in Frankfort, very kindly offered to give Kate a splendid wedding party, but she politely declined his generous offer, as she did not feel like entering into such a scene of gayety as would necessarily attend a large party.A few of her most intimate friends assembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, and thence proceeded to the church, which was crowded with anxious spectators, many of whom almost envied Mr. Miller his beautiful bride, while others envied her the fine-looking man who stood there as the bridegroom, and all were unanimous in pronouncing it an excellent match. Kate's happiness on this occasion was not unmingled with sadness, for her thoughts went back to the time when, with a heart bursting with anguish, she had first entered that church and passed up its broad aisle until she reached the side of her darling brother, who lay shrouded in his coffin.Now the scene was changed; she was there as the happy bride of one to whom she had given the undivided affection of her heart, and as the solemn words were uttered which made her his forever, she felt that her brother's spirit hovered near, to bless her union with one who had ever been his true friend. So she requested that Fanny should be her bridesmaid, and the young girl now stood at the altar, with her bright face beaming with happiness, for Dr. Lacey, who was by her side, had, the night before, told her all his love, and had won from her a promise that at some future time she would be his. He told her that he would speak to her father the next evening.[pg 067]Accordingly, after the wedding party had returned to Mrs. Crane's, he invited Mr. Middleton to go with him for a few minutes to his room. Fanny was sure of her father's consent, but she could not help feeling nervous when she saw him leave the parlor, accompanied by Dr. Lacey. A few moments after, she observed that Julia also was missing, and she trembled lest she might have suspected something and gone to listen.Nor was she mistaken in her fears; for Mrs. Carrington and Julia both had an inkling of what was going on, and when the latter heard Dr. Lacey say something to her father in a low tone, and then saw them leave the room together, she arose and stealthily followed them upstairs. Going out on the balcony, she stole softly up to Dr. Lacey's window, and there, unobserved, listened to a conversation which confirmed her worst fears. In a firm, decided tone, Dr. Lacey told Mr. Middleton of his love for his daughter, and said she had promised to be his if her father would consent.Mr. Middleton replied, "And so it's my darter you want. Of course it's Sunshine?""Certainly, sir," answered Dr. Lacey."Well, I'm glad on't. I've seen it all along; but I didn't know but mebby Tempest had come it over you with her pretty face—but devil of a life you'd lead with her."Dr. Lacey did not reply, but Julia did; and though the tones of her voice were too low to be heard, they were none the less emphatic, as she said, "And devil of a life I'll make you lead if you do not have me." And at the same time she ground her glittering teeth and shook her clenched fist at the two men, who were unconscious of the rage they were exciting.Mr. Middleton continued, "Yes, I'll give you Sunshine, I reckon, and a hundred thousand dollars beside.""It's Fanny I want, not her money," said Dr. Lacey."Oh, yes, I know," answered Mr. Middleton; "but I reckon you won't object to a few thousand, unless you are as rich as a Jew."Dr. Lacey replied: "I am not as rich as a Jew, but I am the only child of my father, who is said to be worth half a million.""Half a million!" repeated Mr. Middleton in astonishment. "Golly-ludy, man, what made you ever think of a poor girl like Sunshine?""Because I love her," answered Dr. Lacey, "and I would marry her just as soon if she were not worth one dime."[pg 068]"Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn't," muttered Julia; "and perhaps you'll have her, and perhaps you won't. You've got me to deal with, and I'd like to see the person who can cross my path with impunity." So saying, she glided from her hiding place and went down stairs to the parlor, leaving her father and Dr. Lacey to finish their conversation.Dr. Lacey proposed that Fanny should continue at school two years longer, and at the end of that time he would claim her as his wife."Why, yes," said Mr. Middleton; "I s'pose I understand; you want her to be more accomplished like, afore you take her down to New Orleans. Well, it's perfectly nateral, and old Josh'll spar no pains nor money."And so the conference ended. When Dr. Lacey re-entered the parlor Fanny read success in his face. In a short time he managed to get near her, and bending down, whispered to her, "My own dear Fanny, forever." At these words a beautiful flush suffused Fanny's usually pale cheek. It was noticed by Julia, who was watching the doctor and her sister with a feeling of almost fiendish hatred. When she saw the bright look of joy which passed over Fanny's face as the doctor whispered to her, she pressed her small white hands together until her long transparent nails left their impress in her flesh!Just then Mr. Miller, with his wife upon his arm, approached the spot where the doctor was standing, and said, "Why, doctor, what has happened? You look almost as happy as I feel. And little Fanny, too, is really looking quite rosy. I should not be surprised if my wedding should be a prelude to another."Julia could hear no more, but sick with anger, she turned away, heartily wishing Mr. Miller was in California digging gold with the water six feet deep all around him! When the company began to disperse Dr. Lacey whispered to Fanny that he wished her to remain a few moments, as he had something to say to her. Accordingly, after the parlor was deserted, he drew her to the sofa and placing his arm around her, told her of the plan which he had marked out for her improvement during the next two years. To all that he required Fanny promised a cheerful compliance, and he proceeded to tell her how he would in the meantime beautify his Southern home, and fill it up with every luxury which could please a refined, delicate female. By the time he had finished Fanny was weeping from excess of happiness."It seems so strange," said she, "that you should prefer me to any one else, me, who am so plain looking, so—"[pg 069]"So pure-minded and innocent," interrupted Dr. Lacey, "and so lovely, too, for to me you are very handsome. Not as beautiful, perhaps, as Mrs. Miller, for there are few who are, and yet I like your looks quite as well."Fanny did not reply; after a moment's silence he said, "Fanny, I shall be obliged to go to New Orleans soon.""Go to New Orleans," said Fanny. "Oh, no, don't.""But I must," answered he. "Business of importance calls me there.""How soon must you go?""In two weeks," he replied."And how long will you be gone?""Probably three months," he answered. "But I shall write to you often; twice a week, perhaps, and you will find enough to do to answer my letters and attend to your studies, besides practicing your music lessons. By the way, Fanny, I wish you to pay particular attention to music, for you know I am very fond of it."Fanny promised that she would, and they separated for the night. While Fanny was going to her room, she determined she would tell Julia all her future prospects; but she found her sister either asleep or pretending to be (the latter was the fact); so she said nothing, but lay down without disturbing her. She could not sleep, however, and toward morning Julia called out, in no very gentle tones, "Do lie still, Fan, or else get up and go down in the parlor and have another tete-a-tete with Dr. Lacey."Fanny saw that her sister was awake, and she resolved to improve the opportunity, even if Julia were not in a very gentle mood. So she said, "Sister, I want to tell you something; wake up, won't you?""Wake up!" answered Julia. "I should like to know who's been asleep, or who can sleep where you are? What is the great secret you wish to tell me?"With many blushes and some stammering Fanny got through with her story. After she had finished Julia was silent a few moments and then said, "Well, what of it? What if Dr. Lacey has promised to marry you? Is that any reason why you should keep me awake all night?"Fanny did not answer, and as her mind was relieved from the weighty matter of telling her sister, she soon fell asleep, and when she awoke the sun was high in the heavens, and Mrs. Miller was bending over her, wishing her a "Merry Christmas!" That day there was sent to Mrs. Crane's a large box, which Dr. Lacey was very particular to have[pg 070]handled carefully. When it was opened it was found to contain an elegant rosewood piano, and a note in which was written, "A Christmas Gift for Fanny." The delighted girl did not ask who was the giver, for she well knew; and resolved to apply herself closely to music, so as to do justice to the beautiful present.The two weeks of Dr. Lacey's stay passed rapidly away, and at their close he bade Fanny an affectionate good-by, promising to write regularly twice a week, and to return, if possible, at the end of three months. After he was gone, it seemed to Fanny that one-half of her life had left her, and she felt very unhappy. There was something in her sister's manner which she could not define, and as Julia seemed anxious to avoid her, she spent much of her time with Mrs. Miller, who each day grew fonder of her little "Kentucky sister," as she often called her in imitation of her brother.Meanwhile Julia spent all her leisure hours with Mrs. Carrington, to whom she confided her feelings and wishes. Mrs. Carrington was not displeased to find that Julia was determined to break the engagement between Dr. Lacey and Fanny, and secretly hoped she would succeed. Not that she wished to aid Julia in securing the doctor, for such was not her intention. Neither did she look upon such an event as possible, for she felt sure that Dr. Lacey never would fancy Julia, even if there were no Fannys in the world; and supposing he did, she could easily remedy it by exposing Julia's wickedness.In due course of time a letter arrived for Fanny from Dr. Lacey. It was a well-filled sheet and so full of affection and kind suggestions for her improvement, that Fanny felt an increased pleasure in thinking that she was the object of Dr. Lacey's love. Julia watched her with an evil eye, as she read the letter, and when she saw the look of joy which lit up every feature, she thought, "Yes, read on and enjoy it—do—for you'll not get many more such!"That day after school she started out for the purpose of laying the foundation for the fulfillment of a part of her plans. There was in the post-office a clerk whose name was Joseph Dunn. He was an awkward, rawboned young man, about six feet two inches high. Until within a few months he had lived near Mr. Middleton. He had a yellow face, yellow hair and yellow teeth, the latter of which projected over his under lip. He also drove a very yellow horse and rode in a yellow buggy. In his own estimation he was perfectly irresistible, and imagined he had only to say the word and all the girls in the country would eagerly accept the offer of being mistress[pg 071]of his fancy colored horse and person. For Fanny he had conceived a violent passion and wondered much that she should repel all his serious advances. At last he wrote her a letter saying that on a certain afternoon he would visit her and make a formal offer of his hand. He bade her weigh the matter seriously, so that she would have no one to blame but herself, if she should ever regret answering in the affirmative.Fanny was very much annoyed by this letter and when on the afternoon specified she saw old "sorrel" coming up to the gate, she said, "Father, there is Joe coming here to offer me the honor of becoming Mrs. Dunn. He troubles me exceedingly with his attentions, and I wish you would manage to make him keep away."Thus enlightened, Mr. Middleton was ready for any emergency, and he answered Joe's confident knock in person. The young man greeted him with a very polite, "Good afternoon," to which Mr. Middleton returned with a significant "umph!""Is your daughter Fanny at home?" asked Mr. Dunn."Yes, she's at home," said Mr. Middleton. "What d'ye want of her?""I should like to have a few moments' private conference with her, if you've no objection, sir," replied Mr. Dunn."A few moments private fiddlestick," answered Mr. Middleton. "What the devil—whose little boy are you? Ain't you Miss Dunn's little boy? You'd better scratch gravel for home, and if I catch you here again dickerin' after Fanny, I'll pull every corn-colored hair out of your head!"This rebuff somewhat cooled the ardor of Joseph's attachment, and as he felt sure that Fanny had told her father of his coming, he from that time disliked her as much as he had before admired her. Not long after the sad finale of his affaire de coeur, he left his home in the country, and going to Frankfort became a clerk in the post office. Julia well knew the old grudge which he had toward Fanny, and as he did not possess the best principles in the world, she had strong hopes of procuring his services for the accomplishment of her purpose. Accordingly, at about half past five she bent her steps in the direction of the post office, hoping to see him in the street, for she knew that he usually went to his supper at that hour. She had not gone far beyond the post office when he overtook her. She greeted him with her blandest smile, and as she seemed inclined to be very sociable, he slackened his pace for the sake of walking with her. They had not proceeded far when she said, "Mr. Dunn, if you are not in a[pg 072]particular hurry, I should like to have you walk on with me, as I have something to communicate to you."Joseph was delighted, and yet he knew not what to think. The haughty Julia had formerly treated him with disdain; but within a week or two her conduct toward him had changed, and she seemed to seek his society, and now she had even asked him to walk with her. What could it mean? He was not long kept in ignorance, for in a few words Julia explained her wishes. "You know, Mr. Dunn," said she, "that I have money and I am willing to pay you almost any amount, and then it is such a rare opportunity for being revenged upon Fanny, who did abuse you shamefully, and even now makes all manner of fun of you. It will not be much trouble for you," she continued, "for you can watch our box, and whenever a letter arrives from Dr. Lacey, you can lay it aside until you have an opportunity of giving it to me, and you can do the same with Fanny's letters!"Joseph did not hesitate long, for the love of money was strong in him, and he also had a desire for revenging his fancied insult. Julia's manner toward him was not without its effect, for he felt greatly flattered that she should choose him for a confidant; so at last he promised to accede to her proposal on condition that he was well paid."It will be well enough," said Julia, "to let her have three or four letters, as it would not be natural for him to forget her immediately, you know.""Oh, yes, ma'am," said Mr. Dunn, "I understand how to do it. Never fear but I'll fix it right.""Well, then, here is a part of your pay in advance," said Julia, as she slipped a ten-dollar note into his hand. At first he seemed inclined not to take it but finally did so, saying, "I suppose I ought to be paid, for it's mighty ticklish business."After having arranged affairs to her satisfaction, Julia bade Mr. Dunn a very friendly good night, and returned home where she found Fanny employed in writing an answer to Dr. Lacey's letter. Here, for the present, we will leave them, until Julia's plot has time to ripen.

[pg 066]Our readers will not be sorry, if after a chapter of sadness and death, we turn to a more joyous one, and tell them of the bridal of Kate Wilmot and Mr. Miller. Kate wished to defer it a few months, on account of the recent death of her brother, but her lover urged his claim so strongly that she at last yielded, and their marriage took place on Christmas eve. Mr. W——, one of the wealthiest men in Frankfort, very kindly offered to give Kate a splendid wedding party, but she politely declined his generous offer, as she did not feel like entering into such a scene of gayety as would necessarily attend a large party.

A few of her most intimate friends assembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, and thence proceeded to the church, which was crowded with anxious spectators, many of whom almost envied Mr. Miller his beautiful bride, while others envied her the fine-looking man who stood there as the bridegroom, and all were unanimous in pronouncing it an excellent match. Kate's happiness on this occasion was not unmingled with sadness, for her thoughts went back to the time when, with a heart bursting with anguish, she had first entered that church and passed up its broad aisle until she reached the side of her darling brother, who lay shrouded in his coffin.

Now the scene was changed; she was there as the happy bride of one to whom she had given the undivided affection of her heart, and as the solemn words were uttered which made her his forever, she felt that her brother's spirit hovered near, to bless her union with one who had ever been his true friend. So she requested that Fanny should be her bridesmaid, and the young girl now stood at the altar, with her bright face beaming with happiness, for Dr. Lacey, who was by her side, had, the night before, told her all his love, and had won from her a promise that at some future time she would be his. He told her that he would speak to her father the next evening.

[pg 067]Accordingly, after the wedding party had returned to Mrs. Crane's, he invited Mr. Middleton to go with him for a few minutes to his room. Fanny was sure of her father's consent, but she could not help feeling nervous when she saw him leave the parlor, accompanied by Dr. Lacey. A few moments after, she observed that Julia also was missing, and she trembled lest she might have suspected something and gone to listen.

Nor was she mistaken in her fears; for Mrs. Carrington and Julia both had an inkling of what was going on, and when the latter heard Dr. Lacey say something to her father in a low tone, and then saw them leave the room together, she arose and stealthily followed them upstairs. Going out on the balcony, she stole softly up to Dr. Lacey's window, and there, unobserved, listened to a conversation which confirmed her worst fears. In a firm, decided tone, Dr. Lacey told Mr. Middleton of his love for his daughter, and said she had promised to be his if her father would consent.

Mr. Middleton replied, "And so it's my darter you want. Of course it's Sunshine?"

"Certainly, sir," answered Dr. Lacey.

"Well, I'm glad on't. I've seen it all along; but I didn't know but mebby Tempest had come it over you with her pretty face—but devil of a life you'd lead with her."

Dr. Lacey did not reply, but Julia did; and though the tones of her voice were too low to be heard, they were none the less emphatic, as she said, "And devil of a life I'll make you lead if you do not have me." And at the same time she ground her glittering teeth and shook her clenched fist at the two men, who were unconscious of the rage they were exciting.

Mr. Middleton continued, "Yes, I'll give you Sunshine, I reckon, and a hundred thousand dollars beside."

"It's Fanny I want, not her money," said Dr. Lacey.

"Oh, yes, I know," answered Mr. Middleton; "but I reckon you won't object to a few thousand, unless you are as rich as a Jew."

Dr. Lacey replied: "I am not as rich as a Jew, but I am the only child of my father, who is said to be worth half a million."

"Half a million!" repeated Mr. Middleton in astonishment. "Golly-ludy, man, what made you ever think of a poor girl like Sunshine?"

"Because I love her," answered Dr. Lacey, "and I would marry her just as soon if she were not worth one dime."

[pg 068]"Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn't," muttered Julia; "and perhaps you'll have her, and perhaps you won't. You've got me to deal with, and I'd like to see the person who can cross my path with impunity." So saying, she glided from her hiding place and went down stairs to the parlor, leaving her father and Dr. Lacey to finish their conversation.

Dr. Lacey proposed that Fanny should continue at school two years longer, and at the end of that time he would claim her as his wife.

"Why, yes," said Mr. Middleton; "I s'pose I understand; you want her to be more accomplished like, afore you take her down to New Orleans. Well, it's perfectly nateral, and old Josh'll spar no pains nor money."

And so the conference ended. When Dr. Lacey re-entered the parlor Fanny read success in his face. In a short time he managed to get near her, and bending down, whispered to her, "My own dear Fanny, forever." At these words a beautiful flush suffused Fanny's usually pale cheek. It was noticed by Julia, who was watching the doctor and her sister with a feeling of almost fiendish hatred. When she saw the bright look of joy which passed over Fanny's face as the doctor whispered to her, she pressed her small white hands together until her long transparent nails left their impress in her flesh!

Just then Mr. Miller, with his wife upon his arm, approached the spot where the doctor was standing, and said, "Why, doctor, what has happened? You look almost as happy as I feel. And little Fanny, too, is really looking quite rosy. I should not be surprised if my wedding should be a prelude to another."

Julia could hear no more, but sick with anger, she turned away, heartily wishing Mr. Miller was in California digging gold with the water six feet deep all around him! When the company began to disperse Dr. Lacey whispered to Fanny that he wished her to remain a few moments, as he had something to say to her. Accordingly, after the parlor was deserted, he drew her to the sofa and placing his arm around her, told her of the plan which he had marked out for her improvement during the next two years. To all that he required Fanny promised a cheerful compliance, and he proceeded to tell her how he would in the meantime beautify his Southern home, and fill it up with every luxury which could please a refined, delicate female. By the time he had finished Fanny was weeping from excess of happiness.

"It seems so strange," said she, "that you should prefer me to any one else, me, who am so plain looking, so—"

[pg 069]"So pure-minded and innocent," interrupted Dr. Lacey, "and so lovely, too, for to me you are very handsome. Not as beautiful, perhaps, as Mrs. Miller, for there are few who are, and yet I like your looks quite as well."

Fanny did not reply; after a moment's silence he said, "Fanny, I shall be obliged to go to New Orleans soon."

"Go to New Orleans," said Fanny. "Oh, no, don't."

"But I must," answered he. "Business of importance calls me there."

"How soon must you go?"

"In two weeks," he replied.

"And how long will you be gone?"

"Probably three months," he answered. "But I shall write to you often; twice a week, perhaps, and you will find enough to do to answer my letters and attend to your studies, besides practicing your music lessons. By the way, Fanny, I wish you to pay particular attention to music, for you know I am very fond of it."

Fanny promised that she would, and they separated for the night. While Fanny was going to her room, she determined she would tell Julia all her future prospects; but she found her sister either asleep or pretending to be (the latter was the fact); so she said nothing, but lay down without disturbing her. She could not sleep, however, and toward morning Julia called out, in no very gentle tones, "Do lie still, Fan, or else get up and go down in the parlor and have another tete-a-tete with Dr. Lacey."

Fanny saw that her sister was awake, and she resolved to improve the opportunity, even if Julia were not in a very gentle mood. So she said, "Sister, I want to tell you something; wake up, won't you?"

"Wake up!" answered Julia. "I should like to know who's been asleep, or who can sleep where you are? What is the great secret you wish to tell me?"

With many blushes and some stammering Fanny got through with her story. After she had finished Julia was silent a few moments and then said, "Well, what of it? What if Dr. Lacey has promised to marry you? Is that any reason why you should keep me awake all night?"

Fanny did not answer, and as her mind was relieved from the weighty matter of telling her sister, she soon fell asleep, and when she awoke the sun was high in the heavens, and Mrs. Miller was bending over her, wishing her a "Merry Christmas!" That day there was sent to Mrs. Crane's a large box, which Dr. Lacey was very particular to have[pg 070]handled carefully. When it was opened it was found to contain an elegant rosewood piano, and a note in which was written, "A Christmas Gift for Fanny." The delighted girl did not ask who was the giver, for she well knew; and resolved to apply herself closely to music, so as to do justice to the beautiful present.

The two weeks of Dr. Lacey's stay passed rapidly away, and at their close he bade Fanny an affectionate good-by, promising to write regularly twice a week, and to return, if possible, at the end of three months. After he was gone, it seemed to Fanny that one-half of her life had left her, and she felt very unhappy. There was something in her sister's manner which she could not define, and as Julia seemed anxious to avoid her, she spent much of her time with Mrs. Miller, who each day grew fonder of her little "Kentucky sister," as she often called her in imitation of her brother.

Meanwhile Julia spent all her leisure hours with Mrs. Carrington, to whom she confided her feelings and wishes. Mrs. Carrington was not displeased to find that Julia was determined to break the engagement between Dr. Lacey and Fanny, and secretly hoped she would succeed. Not that she wished to aid Julia in securing the doctor, for such was not her intention. Neither did she look upon such an event as possible, for she felt sure that Dr. Lacey never would fancy Julia, even if there were no Fannys in the world; and supposing he did, she could easily remedy it by exposing Julia's wickedness.

In due course of time a letter arrived for Fanny from Dr. Lacey. It was a well-filled sheet and so full of affection and kind suggestions for her improvement, that Fanny felt an increased pleasure in thinking that she was the object of Dr. Lacey's love. Julia watched her with an evil eye, as she read the letter, and when she saw the look of joy which lit up every feature, she thought, "Yes, read on and enjoy it—do—for you'll not get many more such!"

That day after school she started out for the purpose of laying the foundation for the fulfillment of a part of her plans. There was in the post-office a clerk whose name was Joseph Dunn. He was an awkward, rawboned young man, about six feet two inches high. Until within a few months he had lived near Mr. Middleton. He had a yellow face, yellow hair and yellow teeth, the latter of which projected over his under lip. He also drove a very yellow horse and rode in a yellow buggy. In his own estimation he was perfectly irresistible, and imagined he had only to say the word and all the girls in the country would eagerly accept the offer of being mistress[pg 071]of his fancy colored horse and person. For Fanny he had conceived a violent passion and wondered much that she should repel all his serious advances. At last he wrote her a letter saying that on a certain afternoon he would visit her and make a formal offer of his hand. He bade her weigh the matter seriously, so that she would have no one to blame but herself, if she should ever regret answering in the affirmative.

Fanny was very much annoyed by this letter and when on the afternoon specified she saw old "sorrel" coming up to the gate, she said, "Father, there is Joe coming here to offer me the honor of becoming Mrs. Dunn. He troubles me exceedingly with his attentions, and I wish you would manage to make him keep away."

Thus enlightened, Mr. Middleton was ready for any emergency, and he answered Joe's confident knock in person. The young man greeted him with a very polite, "Good afternoon," to which Mr. Middleton returned with a significant "umph!"

"Is your daughter Fanny at home?" asked Mr. Dunn.

"Yes, she's at home," said Mr. Middleton. "What d'ye want of her?"

"I should like to have a few moments' private conference with her, if you've no objection, sir," replied Mr. Dunn.

"A few moments private fiddlestick," answered Mr. Middleton. "What the devil—whose little boy are you? Ain't you Miss Dunn's little boy? You'd better scratch gravel for home, and if I catch you here again dickerin' after Fanny, I'll pull every corn-colored hair out of your head!"

This rebuff somewhat cooled the ardor of Joseph's attachment, and as he felt sure that Fanny had told her father of his coming, he from that time disliked her as much as he had before admired her. Not long after the sad finale of his affaire de coeur, he left his home in the country, and going to Frankfort became a clerk in the post office. Julia well knew the old grudge which he had toward Fanny, and as he did not possess the best principles in the world, she had strong hopes of procuring his services for the accomplishment of her purpose. Accordingly, at about half past five she bent her steps in the direction of the post office, hoping to see him in the street, for she knew that he usually went to his supper at that hour. She had not gone far beyond the post office when he overtook her. She greeted him with her blandest smile, and as she seemed inclined to be very sociable, he slackened his pace for the sake of walking with her. They had not proceeded far when she said, "Mr. Dunn, if you are not in a[pg 072]particular hurry, I should like to have you walk on with me, as I have something to communicate to you."

Joseph was delighted, and yet he knew not what to think. The haughty Julia had formerly treated him with disdain; but within a week or two her conduct toward him had changed, and she seemed to seek his society, and now she had even asked him to walk with her. What could it mean? He was not long kept in ignorance, for in a few words Julia explained her wishes. "You know, Mr. Dunn," said she, "that I have money and I am willing to pay you almost any amount, and then it is such a rare opportunity for being revenged upon Fanny, who did abuse you shamefully, and even now makes all manner of fun of you. It will not be much trouble for you," she continued, "for you can watch our box, and whenever a letter arrives from Dr. Lacey, you can lay it aside until you have an opportunity of giving it to me, and you can do the same with Fanny's letters!"

Joseph did not hesitate long, for the love of money was strong in him, and he also had a desire for revenging his fancied insult. Julia's manner toward him was not without its effect, for he felt greatly flattered that she should choose him for a confidant; so at last he promised to accede to her proposal on condition that he was well paid.

"It will be well enough," said Julia, "to let her have three or four letters, as it would not be natural for him to forget her immediately, you know."

"Oh, yes, ma'am," said Mr. Dunn, "I understand how to do it. Never fear but I'll fix it right."

"Well, then, here is a part of your pay in advance," said Julia, as she slipped a ten-dollar note into his hand. At first he seemed inclined not to take it but finally did so, saying, "I suppose I ought to be paid, for it's mighty ticklish business."

After having arranged affairs to her satisfaction, Julia bade Mr. Dunn a very friendly good night, and returned home where she found Fanny employed in writing an answer to Dr. Lacey's letter. Here, for the present, we will leave them, until Julia's plot has time to ripen.

Chapter VIIImr. middleton has more callers from new york[pg 073]The reader will now accompany us to Geneva, one of the most beautiful villages in Western New York. On arriving at the depot we are beset by a host of runners, who call out lustily, "Temperance House!" "Franklin House!" "Geneva Hotel!" "Carriage to any part of the village for a shilling!" But we prefer walking, and passing up Water Street, and Seneca street, we soon come to Main street, which we follow until we come to a large, elegant mansion, the property of Judge Fulton, who is that evening entertaining a fashionable party. No matter if we are not invited, we can enter unperceived and note down what is taking place.Our attention is first directed toward the judge and his accomplished lady, who are doing the honors of the evening. As we scan their looks closely, we are struck with their features, and we feel sure that to them wealth was not given in vain, and that the beggar never left their door unfed or uncared for.Mrs. Fulton's countenance looks very familiar to us, and we wonder much where we have seen her before, or if we never have seen her, who it is that she so strongly reminds us of. Before we can solve the mystery, we observe across the room a face which makes us start up and exclaim, "Is it possible! Can that be Dr. Lacey?" A second look at the gentleman in question convinces us that he is two inches shorter than Dr. Lacey, and also that he wears glasses; still be bears a striking resemblance to the doctor, and we inquire who he is. We are told that his name is Robert Stanton. He is a graduate of Yale and a brother of Mrs. Fulton, He is intending in a few days to start for Kentucky, in company with Frederic Raymond, who was a classmate of his.As we watch young Stanton's movements, we observe a certain restlessness in his eye, as it wanders over the crowded room, seemingly in quest of some one who is not there. At last there is a new arrival, and Miss Warner, a very prim lady and a teacher in the seminary, is announced, together[pg 074]with three of her pupils. As the young girls enter the parlor, Mr. Stanton seems suddenly animated with new life, and we feel sure that one of those young ladies has a great attraction for him. Nor are we mistaken, for he soon crosses the room, and going up to one of them, a rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed girl, he says in a low tone, "I am glad you have come, Nellie. I had almost given you up, and concluded you were doing penance for some misdemeanor, and so could not come out." Then taking her upon his arm, he kept her near him all the evening.There was a strange history connected with Helen Ashton, or Nellie, as she was more familiarly called, but of this we will speak hereafter. She was formerly a member of the young ladies' school in New Haven, where she had become acquainted with Robert Stanton, who was in college. An intimacy sprang up between them which at last ripened into an agreement. Stanton's home was near Geneva, and when he left college he suddenly discovered that the Geneva Seminary was superior to any other, and with but little trouble he persuaded Nellie to go there to school.She had now been an inmate of the seminary in that place little more than a year, during which time Robert had pursued the study of law in Judge Fulton's office. He had always possessed a great desire to visit Kentucky, and had finally concluded to do so, determining if he liked it to make it his permanent residence. He was to return the next autumn for Nellie, who was to remain in school until that time.As they stood together that evening conversing about Kentucky, Nellie said, "I have an old schoolmate in Frankfort. It is Kate Wilmot. Do you remember having seen her in New Haven?""Is she very beautiful?" asked Robert."Oh, yes, exceedingly so. She turned half the students' heads," answered Nellie."Yes, I remember her perfectly well," said Frederic Raymond, who was standing near, "and so does Bob, but he wants to pretend he does not. By the way, Miss Ashton," continued he, "are you not afraid that Kate's marvelous beauty will endanger your claim upon Robert's heart, when he shall be near her constantly, and can only think of your blue eyes as 'over the hills and far away?'"Helen blushed, but did not answer, and Stanton said, "Never fear for me, Fred, but rather keep your own heart safely locked away, for fear some of those dark-eyed Kentucky girls will, ere you are aware, rifle you of it.""I shall do no such thing," returned Frederic. "I am going[pg 075]there for the express purpose of losing my heart, and the first Kentucky girl which pleases me shall be my wife, any way.""Whether she likes you or not?" asked Nellie."Yes, whether she likes me or not," answered Frederic, "I shall marry her first, and make her like me afterward."So saying he sauntered off to another part of the room, little thinking that what he had spoken in jest would afterward prove true. At a late hour the company began to disperse, Miss Warner keeping a watchful eye upon her pupils, lest some lawless collegiate should relieve her from the trouble of seeing them safely home. This perpendicular maiden had lived forty years on this mundane sphere without ever having had an offer, and she had come to think of gentlemen as a race of intruding bipeds which the world would be much better without. However, if there were any of the species which she could tolerate, it was Judge Fulton and Robert Stanton. The former she liked, because everybody liked him, and said he was a "nice man, and what everybody said must be true." Her partiality for the latter arose from the fact that he had several times complimented her fine figure and dignified manners; so when he that night asked the privilege of walking home with Nellie, she raised no very strong opposition, but yielded the point by merely saying something about "child's play." She, however, kept near enough to them to hear every word of their conversation; but they consoled themselves by thinking that the wide-open ears could not penetrate the recesses of their well-filled letters which they saw in the future.In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening before they left was spent by Stanton in Nellie's company. Mrs. Fulton had invited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home. About ten o'clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retired to her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour of midnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of Judge Fulton's sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for the hundredth time vows of eternal constancy.The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train died away in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her little room at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide, wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeks followed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upon their newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan's[pg 076]prayer, that God would protect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in the world.The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts, and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor both early and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city of New York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in a wealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," which meant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor to kitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening. It was almost always eleven o'clock before she could steal away to her low bed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, would the desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt would look in pity upon the helpless orphan.Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where she lived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Something there was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice, and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom she lived."She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only let books alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitable for one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have a book before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will get down and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned.""And has she no relatives?" asked the gentleman."None living that I know of," said Mrs. Stanley; and then she added, "Nellie says she had a brother who was several years older than herself, and that three years ago he was one morning missing, and they found on his table a letter, saying that he had gone to sea on a whaling voyage, and would be gone three years. Her father afterward heard that the vessel in which his son sailed was supposed to be lost with all its crew. This is her story; but you can never tell how much to believe of the stories which such girls tell.""Did you ever detect her in a falsehood?" asked the gentleman."Why, no, I never did; but of course she will equivocate, for all such paupers will.""With whom did she live before she came here?" continued the gentleman."With a Mr. Barnard," answered Mrs. Stanley; and she continued laughingly, "You had better inquire about her of[pg 077]him, as you seem so much interested in her. He lives out a few miles in the country."The result of the conversation was that the Mr. Barnard mentioned above received the next day a call from a stranger, who made particular inquiry about little Helen Ashton. He seemed satisfied with the result, and as he had before learned that Mr. Barnard was a very good, honest man, he handed him five hundred dollars, telling him to take Nellie home—as she called Mr. Barnard's house—and to send her for two years to the district school. At the end of that time he would furnish funds for her to be educated in New Haven.There was great excitement in Mrs. Stanley's family when it was known that Nellie was to go away and be sent to school in New Haven. "I wonder," said Mrs. Stanley, "who pays the expenses? It can't be Judge —— (naming the gentleman who had seemed so much interested in Nellie), for I am sure he would not be stupid enough to take a street beggar, as it were, and educate her." A second thought convinced her that it must be the said gentleman, and she suddenly felt an inclination to do something herself for the hitherto neglected kitchen girl.Accordingly, Nellie was summoned to the parlor and the state of her wardrobe inquired into. It was found to be lamentably deficient in even the necessary articles of clothing. Mrs. Stanley then turned her rag bag inside out and rummaged through several boxes in the garret which had not seen the light for several years. The result of her search was three or four cast-off garments, which the cook said "were so bad the rag man would hardly buy them." Mrs. Stanley, however, thought they were quite a gift, and gave Nellie many injunctions as to when she should wear them. Nellie thought it doubtful whether she should wear them all; but she said nothing, and in a few days she left Mrs. Stanley's house for a more pleasant home at Mr. Barnard's.It was a great mystery to Nellie who it could be that had befriended her; but if Mr. Barnard knew, he kept the knowledge to himself, and Nellie was obliged to remain in ignorance. She was, however, satisfied that the gentleman, whoever he was, was both able and willing to carry out his plan, for money for the payment of her school bills was regularly remitted to Mr. Barnard. At the time when she wished to leave New Haven, she had written to Mr. Barnard on the subject, and in due time had received from him a letter saying that the gentleman who was educating her was not only willing but anxious to have her sent to Geneva.[pg 078]Soon after her arrival there she chanced to meet Judge Fulton and his wife. Something in their looks seemed familiar, and also awoke a painful reminiscence of the dark kitchen and the lone garret far off in the great city. She could not remember ever having seen them, and so dismissed the subject from her mind, merely wondering if they knew that she who was to be their brother's wife once lighted fires and cleaned potatoes as a common servant girl.The reader will perhaps have imagined that the gentleman who befriended Nellie was none other than Judge Fulton. He was incited to this act of kindness by the same benevolent feeling which prompted all his deeds of charity. He had no daughters, and his intention was, first to see what improvement she would make of her advantages, and if he were satisfied, he would take her home as his adopted daughter. He was somewhat surprised when, two years before the time of which we are speaking, he received through Mr. Barnard a letter from Nellie addressed to, "My unknown benefactor," and desiring his consent to an engagement between herself and Robert Stanton. The same mail brought a letter from Robert, saying that he had just made an offer of his hand to a Miss Helen Ashton, who was only waiting for her guardian to sanction her choice. Judge Fulton's consent was given, and he wrote to Nellie that before she was married he would make himself known to her, and give her a wedding at his own house.A few days before Robert left for Kentucky Judge Fulton received another letter from Nellie, saying that it was Mr. Stanton's wish to be married the ensuing autumn. To this the judge gave his approval and determined as soon as Robert was gone to enlighten Nellie as to who her guardian was. This, then, was the history of Nellie Ashton, whom we will leave for a time, and as our readers are probably anxious to return to the bland climate of Kentucky, we will follow young Stanton and Raymond on their journey. Having arrived at Buffalo, they took passage in the steamboat Saratoga, which landed them safely in Sandusky after a trip of about twenty-four hours. At Sandusky they took the cars for Cincinnati.As they neared the Queen City, they noticed at one of the stations a tall, intelligent, but rather reckless-looking young man, who entered the cars and took a seat directly opposite them. There was something peculiarly attractive to Raymond in the confident, self-possessed manner of the stranger, and ere long he had, to use a Yankee expression, "scraped acquaintance" with him, and learned that his name was Henry[pg 079]Ashton, and that he too was on his way to Frankfort, where he resided. As the young man told his name, Raymond turned to Stanton and said, "I should think that you'd feel acquainted with this gentleman, you are so partial to his name."Stanton did not answer, and Raymond proceeded to question Mr. Ashton about Frankfort and its inhabitants. "By the way," said he, "are there any pretty girls there? Substantial ones, I mean, who have a purse long enough to pay a fellow for the trouble of marrying them?"Mr. Ashton smiled and answered, "Yes, we have a good many, and rich ones too; but the belle of the city when I left was a Mrs. Carrington—""The plague it was!" interrupted Raymond, "and can't we get rid of her husband somehow? Won't he die of yellow fever, cholera or something? Or is he a gouty old wretch, who will live forever?""You prevented me from telling you," said Mr. Ashton, "that Mr. Carrington has died since I left there. But you will hardly win this fair, haughty lady, unless you can plank about a million. But there are other faces quite as pretty, I think. There is a Julia Middleton, who is attending school. She is a great beauty, but, if report speaks truly, she would keep you busily employed in curbing her high temper.""No matter about the temper—has she got the dimes?" said Raymond."About one hundred thousand dollars, I think," answered Ashton; "but one would need to be paid that much for having such a fury as she is, and such a queer old rat as her father."He then proceeded to enumerate some of Mr. Middleton's oddities, at all of which his auditors laughed heartily, and expressed their determination to make the old man's acquaintance as soon as possible. When the young men reached Cincinnati, they concluded to take the stage route to Lexington and Versailles, and to pay Mr. Middleton a visit before they proceeded to Frankfort. Accordingly on Thursday afternoon, just as the sun was setting, they entered Mr. Middleton's yard, where they were received by the dogs, with just such a demonstration of anger as had greeted Mr. Wilmot more than a year before.The master of the house was this time at home, and soon appearing at the door, he called out to the negroes who were in the yard, "Ho, thar, boys! Stuff your woolly heads down them tarnal dogs' throats and make them stop their yellin'! Glad to see you—walk in. Moses and Aaron! If this ain't Ashton from Frankfort. How d'ye do? How d'ye do?"[pg 080]Mr. Ashton shook hands with him, and then introduced his companions, saying they were from New York. The word New York seemed to thrill Mr. Middleton's nerves like an electric shock. He seized both hands of the young men and exclaimed, "From New York, hey? Then thrice welcome to my old cabin and hominy; old Josh's door is allus wide open to folks from New York." Then leading the way to the sitting room, he continued, "Yes, my own noble boy was from New York, but he died (this is my old woman Nancy, gentlemen). I don't see why in the old Harry he couldn't of lived. But he died and they kivered him up while I was gone, and I never seen him no more. Ho! Here, Tilda, fetch some hot water and make a little sling for these chaps. It'll do 'em good, as it's mighty cold and raw like out o' door."The sling was made, and Ashton and Raymond drank readily and freely; but when it was offered to Stanton, he modestly but firmly refused. "What upon airth!" said Mr. Middleton, "not drink when a friend asks you? Why, boy, just take a swaller."Here Raymond, who was ready to adopt Mr. Middleton's language and manners, exclaimed, "I'll tell you what, old boy, Bob's left a sweetheart in New York, and I fancy she lectured him on intemperance, for you know the women are dead set against it."Mr. Middleton looked first at Raymond, then at Stanton and said, "Well, he knows good sense by not touchin' on't, I reckon. Got a sweetheart, hey? That's better than to come here and marry some of our spitfires. Poor boy! Dick was engaged to one of 'em, and I've hearn that she raised a tantareen and broke his heart. But I'll fix her! I'll dock off fifty thousand to pay for that caper."Here Mr. Ashton asked if Mr. Middleton's daughters were still at Frankfort. "Yes," returned Mr. Middleton, "both thar, study in' all the flat things you can think on, and thummin' away on the pianner. You'll see 'em thar; but mind me one and all, mind I say, don't fall in love with Sunshine, for she's engaged, and I've gin my consent, and whoever meddles in that match'll find Josh after 'em!" By way of adding emphasis to his words he brought his fist back against a work-stand, on which stood his wife's work basket. The stand was upset, and all the articles of the basket rolled on the floor. "Great Peter!" said Mr. Middleton, "ho, Tilda, come pick up these 'ere things!"Tilda came at the call of her master. While she was replacing the articles in her mistress' basket, Raymond, who[pg 081]wished to show that he was ready to adopt all the peculiarities of the State, said, "That's a valuable looking negro girl. I suppose your property mostly consists in such as she. I don't wonder that you object to give them up just to please the North. Have you many such?""Yes, quite a heap on 'em. Why? Want to steal 'em, hey?"Raymond reddened. His attempts at anti-abolition had not succeeded as well as he anticipated; but he soon rallied and said, "Certainly not; I shouldn't know what to do with your slaves if I had them; besides I have no inclination to interfere with your Southern institutions. I am too much of a pro-slavery man myself.""Likely enough," said Mr. Middleton, rather gruffly, for he did not much like the appearance of Raymond, "likely enough. But, young man, let old Josh give you a little advice. I've seen more than double your years, I reckon, and I never seen a man come from the free states that wasn't a little teched with abolitionism. It's nateral like and onnateral to change their mind so mighty soon. So I advise you to keep your opinions to yourself for a spell, any way. A heap on 'em come here, and are surprised not to find a whippin' post stuck up in a corner of every yard. I don't say you are one of 'em; but we don't think no better of a body when they jine in with us so soon."This speech somewhat disconcerted young Raymond, who was anxious to get into Mr. Middleton's good graces; but his discomfiture was soon removed by his saying, "Boy, don't take what I've said in high dudgeon. Folks allus see the roughest side of me first; I'm a friend to you, and allus will be as long as you do well." Then chancing to think his guests were hungry, he called out, "Saints and angels! Why don't you bring in supper, you lazy bones thar in the kitchen? Do you hear?""Yes, marster," said three or four negroes at once, "supper'll be ready d'rectly."In a few moments the nicely-cooked spare-rib was smoking on the table, together with hot coffee, boiled turnips and egg bread, which Southern cooks know so well how to make. Besides this there was the golden-colored butter, white flaky honeycomb, and the Sunday pitcher overflowing with rich creamy milk. "Come, boys, set by and have some fodder!" said Mr. Middleton.The young gentlemen took their seats at the table and Mr. Middleton continued, "Now lay into 't and help yourselves. I ain't used to perlite strains, and if I should try you'd all larf[pg 082]at me—mebby you want to now. Tempest say's I'm enough to make a dog larf.""Who is Tempest? One of your servants?" asked Stanton."Christopher Columbus! One of my servants!" answered Mr. Middleton. "How Tempest would rar to hear that. Why, she's my oldest gal.""I beg your pardon," said Stanton."Not a bit on't," answered Mr. Middleton. "I don't wonder you thought so, such an oudun name! Her real name is Julia, but I call her Tempest, 'case that's jist like her. She's a regular thunderstorm of lightning, hail and iron slugs. You'll see her in Frankfort. Goin' into the law thar, are you?"Stanton answered that he thought he should."Well," said Mr. Middleton, "I'll give you all my suits, just because you wouldn't drink and tell a lie to that little gal at home. I despise liars. Let me catch a body telling me a lie, I tell you—"Here he lifted up his huge foot which was encased in a cowhide boot, something smaller than a canal-boat. He gave the table a kick which set all the spoons, knives and forks to dancing, spilt the milk and upset the gravy pot."Why, Mr. Middleton!" interposed his wife."I am sorry, honey," said he, "but I'll be hanged if that ar sling ain't gettin' the better of the old man."After supper was over and the effects of the sling had left Mr. Middleton's head, he inquired further into the intentions of his guests. On learning that Mr. Raymond would teach, if he could get the chance, Mr. Middleton said, "I reckon you can teach in Mr. Miller's school. I'll write to him about you, and I reckon he can make room for you."It was well for Raymond that Mr. Middleton did not observe his smile of contempt at the idea of being recommended by such an "old cur," as he secretly styled him.At a late hour Mr. Middleton conducted the young men to their room, saying as they entered it, "This was Dick's room, poor dear boy! For his sake I wish 'twas better, for it was sometimes cold like in the winter; but he's warm enough now, I reckon, poor fellow!" So saying, he left the room; but Stanton noticed upon the old tin candlestick which his host had put upon the table something which looked very much like tears, so large that he was sure no one but Mr. Middleton could have wept them.

[pg 073]The reader will now accompany us to Geneva, one of the most beautiful villages in Western New York. On arriving at the depot we are beset by a host of runners, who call out lustily, "Temperance House!" "Franklin House!" "Geneva Hotel!" "Carriage to any part of the village for a shilling!" But we prefer walking, and passing up Water Street, and Seneca street, we soon come to Main street, which we follow until we come to a large, elegant mansion, the property of Judge Fulton, who is that evening entertaining a fashionable party. No matter if we are not invited, we can enter unperceived and note down what is taking place.

Our attention is first directed toward the judge and his accomplished lady, who are doing the honors of the evening. As we scan their looks closely, we are struck with their features, and we feel sure that to them wealth was not given in vain, and that the beggar never left their door unfed or uncared for.

Mrs. Fulton's countenance looks very familiar to us, and we wonder much where we have seen her before, or if we never have seen her, who it is that she so strongly reminds us of. Before we can solve the mystery, we observe across the room a face which makes us start up and exclaim, "Is it possible! Can that be Dr. Lacey?" A second look at the gentleman in question convinces us that he is two inches shorter than Dr. Lacey, and also that he wears glasses; still be bears a striking resemblance to the doctor, and we inquire who he is. We are told that his name is Robert Stanton. He is a graduate of Yale and a brother of Mrs. Fulton, He is intending in a few days to start for Kentucky, in company with Frederic Raymond, who was a classmate of his.

As we watch young Stanton's movements, we observe a certain restlessness in his eye, as it wanders over the crowded room, seemingly in quest of some one who is not there. At last there is a new arrival, and Miss Warner, a very prim lady and a teacher in the seminary, is announced, together[pg 074]with three of her pupils. As the young girls enter the parlor, Mr. Stanton seems suddenly animated with new life, and we feel sure that one of those young ladies has a great attraction for him. Nor are we mistaken, for he soon crosses the room, and going up to one of them, a rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed girl, he says in a low tone, "I am glad you have come, Nellie. I had almost given you up, and concluded you were doing penance for some misdemeanor, and so could not come out." Then taking her upon his arm, he kept her near him all the evening.

There was a strange history connected with Helen Ashton, or Nellie, as she was more familiarly called, but of this we will speak hereafter. She was formerly a member of the young ladies' school in New Haven, where she had become acquainted with Robert Stanton, who was in college. An intimacy sprang up between them which at last ripened into an agreement. Stanton's home was near Geneva, and when he left college he suddenly discovered that the Geneva Seminary was superior to any other, and with but little trouble he persuaded Nellie to go there to school.

She had now been an inmate of the seminary in that place little more than a year, during which time Robert had pursued the study of law in Judge Fulton's office. He had always possessed a great desire to visit Kentucky, and had finally concluded to do so, determining if he liked it to make it his permanent residence. He was to return the next autumn for Nellie, who was to remain in school until that time.

As they stood together that evening conversing about Kentucky, Nellie said, "I have an old schoolmate in Frankfort. It is Kate Wilmot. Do you remember having seen her in New Haven?"

"Is she very beautiful?" asked Robert.

"Oh, yes, exceedingly so. She turned half the students' heads," answered Nellie.

"Yes, I remember her perfectly well," said Frederic Raymond, who was standing near, "and so does Bob, but he wants to pretend he does not. By the way, Miss Ashton," continued he, "are you not afraid that Kate's marvelous beauty will endanger your claim upon Robert's heart, when he shall be near her constantly, and can only think of your blue eyes as 'over the hills and far away?'"

Helen blushed, but did not answer, and Stanton said, "Never fear for me, Fred, but rather keep your own heart safely locked away, for fear some of those dark-eyed Kentucky girls will, ere you are aware, rifle you of it."

"I shall do no such thing," returned Frederic. "I am going[pg 075]there for the express purpose of losing my heart, and the first Kentucky girl which pleases me shall be my wife, any way."

"Whether she likes you or not?" asked Nellie.

"Yes, whether she likes me or not," answered Frederic, "I shall marry her first, and make her like me afterward."

So saying he sauntered off to another part of the room, little thinking that what he had spoken in jest would afterward prove true. At a late hour the company began to disperse, Miss Warner keeping a watchful eye upon her pupils, lest some lawless collegiate should relieve her from the trouble of seeing them safely home. This perpendicular maiden had lived forty years on this mundane sphere without ever having had an offer, and she had come to think of gentlemen as a race of intruding bipeds which the world would be much better without. However, if there were any of the species which she could tolerate, it was Judge Fulton and Robert Stanton. The former she liked, because everybody liked him, and said he was a "nice man, and what everybody said must be true." Her partiality for the latter arose from the fact that he had several times complimented her fine figure and dignified manners; so when he that night asked the privilege of walking home with Nellie, she raised no very strong opposition, but yielded the point by merely saying something about "child's play." She, however, kept near enough to them to hear every word of their conversation; but they consoled themselves by thinking that the wide-open ears could not penetrate the recesses of their well-filled letters which they saw in the future.

In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening before they left was spent by Stanton in Nellie's company. Mrs. Fulton had invited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home. About ten o'clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retired to her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour of midnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of Judge Fulton's sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for the hundredth time vows of eternal constancy.

The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train died away in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her little room at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide, wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeks followed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upon their newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan's[pg 076]prayer, that God would protect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in the world.

The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts, and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor both early and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city of New York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in a wealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," which meant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor to kitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening. It was almost always eleven o'clock before she could steal away to her low bed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, would the desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt would look in pity upon the helpless orphan.

Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where she lived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Something there was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice, and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom she lived.

"She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only let books alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitable for one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have a book before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will get down and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned."

"And has she no relatives?" asked the gentleman.

"None living that I know of," said Mrs. Stanley; and then she added, "Nellie says she had a brother who was several years older than herself, and that three years ago he was one morning missing, and they found on his table a letter, saying that he had gone to sea on a whaling voyage, and would be gone three years. Her father afterward heard that the vessel in which his son sailed was supposed to be lost with all its crew. This is her story; but you can never tell how much to believe of the stories which such girls tell."

"Did you ever detect her in a falsehood?" asked the gentleman.

"Why, no, I never did; but of course she will equivocate, for all such paupers will."

"With whom did she live before she came here?" continued the gentleman.

"With a Mr. Barnard," answered Mrs. Stanley; and she continued laughingly, "You had better inquire about her of[pg 077]him, as you seem so much interested in her. He lives out a few miles in the country."

The result of the conversation was that the Mr. Barnard mentioned above received the next day a call from a stranger, who made particular inquiry about little Helen Ashton. He seemed satisfied with the result, and as he had before learned that Mr. Barnard was a very good, honest man, he handed him five hundred dollars, telling him to take Nellie home—as she called Mr. Barnard's house—and to send her for two years to the district school. At the end of that time he would furnish funds for her to be educated in New Haven.

There was great excitement in Mrs. Stanley's family when it was known that Nellie was to go away and be sent to school in New Haven. "I wonder," said Mrs. Stanley, "who pays the expenses? It can't be Judge —— (naming the gentleman who had seemed so much interested in Nellie), for I am sure he would not be stupid enough to take a street beggar, as it were, and educate her." A second thought convinced her that it must be the said gentleman, and she suddenly felt an inclination to do something herself for the hitherto neglected kitchen girl.

Accordingly, Nellie was summoned to the parlor and the state of her wardrobe inquired into. It was found to be lamentably deficient in even the necessary articles of clothing. Mrs. Stanley then turned her rag bag inside out and rummaged through several boxes in the garret which had not seen the light for several years. The result of her search was three or four cast-off garments, which the cook said "were so bad the rag man would hardly buy them." Mrs. Stanley, however, thought they were quite a gift, and gave Nellie many injunctions as to when she should wear them. Nellie thought it doubtful whether she should wear them all; but she said nothing, and in a few days she left Mrs. Stanley's house for a more pleasant home at Mr. Barnard's.

It was a great mystery to Nellie who it could be that had befriended her; but if Mr. Barnard knew, he kept the knowledge to himself, and Nellie was obliged to remain in ignorance. She was, however, satisfied that the gentleman, whoever he was, was both able and willing to carry out his plan, for money for the payment of her school bills was regularly remitted to Mr. Barnard. At the time when she wished to leave New Haven, she had written to Mr. Barnard on the subject, and in due time had received from him a letter saying that the gentleman who was educating her was not only willing but anxious to have her sent to Geneva.

[pg 078]Soon after her arrival there she chanced to meet Judge Fulton and his wife. Something in their looks seemed familiar, and also awoke a painful reminiscence of the dark kitchen and the lone garret far off in the great city. She could not remember ever having seen them, and so dismissed the subject from her mind, merely wondering if they knew that she who was to be their brother's wife once lighted fires and cleaned potatoes as a common servant girl.

The reader will perhaps have imagined that the gentleman who befriended Nellie was none other than Judge Fulton. He was incited to this act of kindness by the same benevolent feeling which prompted all his deeds of charity. He had no daughters, and his intention was, first to see what improvement she would make of her advantages, and if he were satisfied, he would take her home as his adopted daughter. He was somewhat surprised when, two years before the time of which we are speaking, he received through Mr. Barnard a letter from Nellie addressed to, "My unknown benefactor," and desiring his consent to an engagement between herself and Robert Stanton. The same mail brought a letter from Robert, saying that he had just made an offer of his hand to a Miss Helen Ashton, who was only waiting for her guardian to sanction her choice. Judge Fulton's consent was given, and he wrote to Nellie that before she was married he would make himself known to her, and give her a wedding at his own house.

A few days before Robert left for Kentucky Judge Fulton received another letter from Nellie, saying that it was Mr. Stanton's wish to be married the ensuing autumn. To this the judge gave his approval and determined as soon as Robert was gone to enlighten Nellie as to who her guardian was. This, then, was the history of Nellie Ashton, whom we will leave for a time, and as our readers are probably anxious to return to the bland climate of Kentucky, we will follow young Stanton and Raymond on their journey. Having arrived at Buffalo, they took passage in the steamboat Saratoga, which landed them safely in Sandusky after a trip of about twenty-four hours. At Sandusky they took the cars for Cincinnati.

As they neared the Queen City, they noticed at one of the stations a tall, intelligent, but rather reckless-looking young man, who entered the cars and took a seat directly opposite them. There was something peculiarly attractive to Raymond in the confident, self-possessed manner of the stranger, and ere long he had, to use a Yankee expression, "scraped acquaintance" with him, and learned that his name was Henry[pg 079]Ashton, and that he too was on his way to Frankfort, where he resided. As the young man told his name, Raymond turned to Stanton and said, "I should think that you'd feel acquainted with this gentleman, you are so partial to his name."

Stanton did not answer, and Raymond proceeded to question Mr. Ashton about Frankfort and its inhabitants. "By the way," said he, "are there any pretty girls there? Substantial ones, I mean, who have a purse long enough to pay a fellow for the trouble of marrying them?"

Mr. Ashton smiled and answered, "Yes, we have a good many, and rich ones too; but the belle of the city when I left was a Mrs. Carrington—"

"The plague it was!" interrupted Raymond, "and can't we get rid of her husband somehow? Won't he die of yellow fever, cholera or something? Or is he a gouty old wretch, who will live forever?"

"You prevented me from telling you," said Mr. Ashton, "that Mr. Carrington has died since I left there. But you will hardly win this fair, haughty lady, unless you can plank about a million. But there are other faces quite as pretty, I think. There is a Julia Middleton, who is attending school. She is a great beauty, but, if report speaks truly, she would keep you busily employed in curbing her high temper."

"No matter about the temper—has she got the dimes?" said Raymond.

"About one hundred thousand dollars, I think," answered Ashton; "but one would need to be paid that much for having such a fury as she is, and such a queer old rat as her father."

He then proceeded to enumerate some of Mr. Middleton's oddities, at all of which his auditors laughed heartily, and expressed their determination to make the old man's acquaintance as soon as possible. When the young men reached Cincinnati, they concluded to take the stage route to Lexington and Versailles, and to pay Mr. Middleton a visit before they proceeded to Frankfort. Accordingly on Thursday afternoon, just as the sun was setting, they entered Mr. Middleton's yard, where they were received by the dogs, with just such a demonstration of anger as had greeted Mr. Wilmot more than a year before.

The master of the house was this time at home, and soon appearing at the door, he called out to the negroes who were in the yard, "Ho, thar, boys! Stuff your woolly heads down them tarnal dogs' throats and make them stop their yellin'! Glad to see you—walk in. Moses and Aaron! If this ain't Ashton from Frankfort. How d'ye do? How d'ye do?"

[pg 080]Mr. Ashton shook hands with him, and then introduced his companions, saying they were from New York. The word New York seemed to thrill Mr. Middleton's nerves like an electric shock. He seized both hands of the young men and exclaimed, "From New York, hey? Then thrice welcome to my old cabin and hominy; old Josh's door is allus wide open to folks from New York." Then leading the way to the sitting room, he continued, "Yes, my own noble boy was from New York, but he died (this is my old woman Nancy, gentlemen). I don't see why in the old Harry he couldn't of lived. But he died and they kivered him up while I was gone, and I never seen him no more. Ho! Here, Tilda, fetch some hot water and make a little sling for these chaps. It'll do 'em good, as it's mighty cold and raw like out o' door."

The sling was made, and Ashton and Raymond drank readily and freely; but when it was offered to Stanton, he modestly but firmly refused. "What upon airth!" said Mr. Middleton, "not drink when a friend asks you? Why, boy, just take a swaller."

Here Raymond, who was ready to adopt Mr. Middleton's language and manners, exclaimed, "I'll tell you what, old boy, Bob's left a sweetheart in New York, and I fancy she lectured him on intemperance, for you know the women are dead set against it."

Mr. Middleton looked first at Raymond, then at Stanton and said, "Well, he knows good sense by not touchin' on't, I reckon. Got a sweetheart, hey? That's better than to come here and marry some of our spitfires. Poor boy! Dick was engaged to one of 'em, and I've hearn that she raised a tantareen and broke his heart. But I'll fix her! I'll dock off fifty thousand to pay for that caper."

Here Mr. Ashton asked if Mr. Middleton's daughters were still at Frankfort. "Yes," returned Mr. Middleton, "both thar, study in' all the flat things you can think on, and thummin' away on the pianner. You'll see 'em thar; but mind me one and all, mind I say, don't fall in love with Sunshine, for she's engaged, and I've gin my consent, and whoever meddles in that match'll find Josh after 'em!" By way of adding emphasis to his words he brought his fist back against a work-stand, on which stood his wife's work basket. The stand was upset, and all the articles of the basket rolled on the floor. "Great Peter!" said Mr. Middleton, "ho, Tilda, come pick up these 'ere things!"

Tilda came at the call of her master. While she was replacing the articles in her mistress' basket, Raymond, who[pg 081]wished to show that he was ready to adopt all the peculiarities of the State, said, "That's a valuable looking negro girl. I suppose your property mostly consists in such as she. I don't wonder that you object to give them up just to please the North. Have you many such?"

"Yes, quite a heap on 'em. Why? Want to steal 'em, hey?"

Raymond reddened. His attempts at anti-abolition had not succeeded as well as he anticipated; but he soon rallied and said, "Certainly not; I shouldn't know what to do with your slaves if I had them; besides I have no inclination to interfere with your Southern institutions. I am too much of a pro-slavery man myself."

"Likely enough," said Mr. Middleton, rather gruffly, for he did not much like the appearance of Raymond, "likely enough. But, young man, let old Josh give you a little advice. I've seen more than double your years, I reckon, and I never seen a man come from the free states that wasn't a little teched with abolitionism. It's nateral like and onnateral to change their mind so mighty soon. So I advise you to keep your opinions to yourself for a spell, any way. A heap on 'em come here, and are surprised not to find a whippin' post stuck up in a corner of every yard. I don't say you are one of 'em; but we don't think no better of a body when they jine in with us so soon."

This speech somewhat disconcerted young Raymond, who was anxious to get into Mr. Middleton's good graces; but his discomfiture was soon removed by his saying, "Boy, don't take what I've said in high dudgeon. Folks allus see the roughest side of me first; I'm a friend to you, and allus will be as long as you do well." Then chancing to think his guests were hungry, he called out, "Saints and angels! Why don't you bring in supper, you lazy bones thar in the kitchen? Do you hear?"

"Yes, marster," said three or four negroes at once, "supper'll be ready d'rectly."

In a few moments the nicely-cooked spare-rib was smoking on the table, together with hot coffee, boiled turnips and egg bread, which Southern cooks know so well how to make. Besides this there was the golden-colored butter, white flaky honeycomb, and the Sunday pitcher overflowing with rich creamy milk. "Come, boys, set by and have some fodder!" said Mr. Middleton.

The young gentlemen took their seats at the table and Mr. Middleton continued, "Now lay into 't and help yourselves. I ain't used to perlite strains, and if I should try you'd all larf[pg 082]at me—mebby you want to now. Tempest say's I'm enough to make a dog larf."

"Who is Tempest? One of your servants?" asked Stanton.

"Christopher Columbus! One of my servants!" answered Mr. Middleton. "How Tempest would rar to hear that. Why, she's my oldest gal."

"I beg your pardon," said Stanton.

"Not a bit on't," answered Mr. Middleton. "I don't wonder you thought so, such an oudun name! Her real name is Julia, but I call her Tempest, 'case that's jist like her. She's a regular thunderstorm of lightning, hail and iron slugs. You'll see her in Frankfort. Goin' into the law thar, are you?"

Stanton answered that he thought he should.

"Well," said Mr. Middleton, "I'll give you all my suits, just because you wouldn't drink and tell a lie to that little gal at home. I despise liars. Let me catch a body telling me a lie, I tell you—"

Here he lifted up his huge foot which was encased in a cowhide boot, something smaller than a canal-boat. He gave the table a kick which set all the spoons, knives and forks to dancing, spilt the milk and upset the gravy pot.

"Why, Mr. Middleton!" interposed his wife.

"I am sorry, honey," said he, "but I'll be hanged if that ar sling ain't gettin' the better of the old man."

After supper was over and the effects of the sling had left Mr. Middleton's head, he inquired further into the intentions of his guests. On learning that Mr. Raymond would teach, if he could get the chance, Mr. Middleton said, "I reckon you can teach in Mr. Miller's school. I'll write to him about you, and I reckon he can make room for you."

It was well for Raymond that Mr. Middleton did not observe his smile of contempt at the idea of being recommended by such an "old cur," as he secretly styled him.

At a late hour Mr. Middleton conducted the young men to their room, saying as they entered it, "This was Dick's room, poor dear boy! For his sake I wish 'twas better, for it was sometimes cold like in the winter; but he's warm enough now, I reckon, poor fellow!" So saying, he left the room; but Stanton noticed upon the old tin candlestick which his host had put upon the table something which looked very much like tears, so large that he was sure no one but Mr. Middleton could have wept them.

Chapter IXthe resemblance of the cousins[pg 083]Among Mr. Middleton's negroes there was a boy twelve years of age whose name was Bob. On the morning following the incidents narrated in the last chapter, Bob was sent up to make a fire for "the young marsters." He had just coaxed the coal and kindlings into a blaze, when Raymond awoke, and spying the negro, called out, "Hello, there! Tom, Dick, Harry, what may be your name?""My name is Bob, sar.""Oh, Bob is it? Bob what? Have you no other name?""No, sar, 'cept it's Marster Josh. I 'longs to him.""Belong to Master Josh, do you? His name isn't Josh, it is Joshua.""Yes, marster.""Well, then, Bob, if his name is Joshua, what must yours be?" said Raymond."Dun know, unless it's Bobaway," answered the negro, with a broad grin."Bobaway! That's rich," said Raymond, laughing heartily at the rapid advancement of his pupil.After a moment's pause, he again called out, "I say, Bobaway, did it snow last night?""No, sar, it didn't snow; it done frosted," said Bob."Done frosted, hey?" said Raymond. "You're a smart boy, Bob. What'll you sell yourself for?""Dun know; hain't nothing to sell 'cept my t'other hat and a bushel of hickory-nuts," answered Bob; "but I reckon how marster ax about five hundred, 'case I's right spry when I hain't got the rheumatiz.""Got the rheumatiz, have you, Bob? Where?""In my belly, sar," answered Bob. Here the young men burst into a loud laugh, and Raymond said, "Five hundred is cheap, Bob; I'll give more than that."Bob opened his large white eyes to their utmost extent, and looking keenly at Raymond slowly quitted the room.[pg 084]On reaching the kitchen he told Aunt Judy, who was his mother, "that ef marster ever acted like he was goin' for to sell him to that ar chap, what poked fun at him, he'd run away, sartin.""And be cotched and git shet up," said Aunt Judy."I'd a heap rather be shet up 'tarnally than to 'long to anybody 'sides Marster Josh," said Bob.During breakfast Mr. Middleton suddenly exclaimed, while looking at Stanton, "I've been tryin' ever since you've been here to think who you look like, and I've jest thought. It's Dr. Lacey.""Who, sir?" said Stanton in some surprise."Dr. Lacey. D'ye know him?" asked Mr. Middleton."Dr. Lacey of New Orleans?" asked Stanton."The same," returned Mr. Middleton. "You look as much like him as two peas, only you wear goggles. Connection of your'n I reckon?""Yes, sir," answered Stanton, "he is my cousin. I have been told that we resemble each other.""By Jupiter!" said Mr. Middleton, "that's just the checker. No wonder I like you so well. And Dr. Lacey goin' to marry Sunshine, too. Your sweetheart ought to look like Fanny. Got her picter, hey?"Stanton handed him Nellie's daguerreotype, and he pretended to discover a close resemblance between her and Fanny; but neither Mrs. Middleton, nor Mr. Ashton could trace any, for which Mr. Middleton called them both blockheads."I think," said Mrs. Middleton, "that she looks more like Mr. Ashton than she does like Fanny.""It is similarity of name which makes her resemble him," said Raymond."Why, is her name Ashton?" asked Middleton."Yes, sir," said Stanton."Mebbe she's your sister, Ashton. But Lord knows she don't look no more like you than she does like old Josh.""She cannot be my sister," said Ashton, "for I had but one, and she is dead."After breakfast Mr. Middleton ordered out his carriage and bade Ike drive the gentlemen to Frankfort."I'd go myself," said he, "but I've got a fetched headache. Give my love to my gals and tell them I'm comin' to see 'em shortly. You'd better go to the Whizzakor House, till you find out whether or not Miss Crane 'll board you."The young men thanked him for his hospitality, and bade[pg 085]him good morning. As they were leaving the yard they passed Bob, who was still limping with the "rheumatiz." Raymond bade Ike stop, while he threw "Bobaway" some pennies. Bob picked them up and looked at them with a rueful face."What's the matter, Bobaway?" asked Raymond. "Don't they suit?""No, sir," said Bob. "I like fopences; I don't want nothin' of these old iron rocks."Each of the men threw Bob a sixpence, for which they were rewarded with a sight of his ivories and a loud "thank-ee-sar." After a ride of two hours they reached the Weisiger House in Frankfort. Soon after arriving there, Mr. Ashton introduced Stanton into one of the best law offices in the town, and then repaired to his former lodgings.In the course of the afternoon Raymond sought out Mr. Miller, and with a somewhat quizzical face handed him Mr. Middleton's letter of introduction. After reading it, Mr. Miller offered his hand to Raymond, and said, "I am glad, Mr. Raymond, that you happened here just at this time, for my school is large, and I am in want of a classical teacher. You are a graduate of Yale, it seems?""Yes, sir," returned Raymond; "and by the way, Mr. Middleton told me that you had won a New Haven girl—Miss Kate Wilmot. I knew her very well.""Ah, is it possible?" said Mr. Miller, his face beaming. "Come with me to Mrs. Crane's," said he. "Kate will be glad to see an old friend.""Thank you," answered Raymond; "but I have a companion with me, a Mr. Stanton, who also knew Miss Wilmot. He is going into a law office here. We both of us intend calling at Mrs. Crane's this evening, and if possible we shall procure board there."So they parted, and Raymond returned to the Weisiger House, while Mr. Miller hastened home to make some inquiries concerning his new assistant, and to inform Mrs. Crane of her prospect for more boarders.That evening Stanton and Raymond called. They found assembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Carrington and Julia. Kate instantly recognized the young gentlemen as old acquaintances, and presented them to her friends. When Stanton entered the room all observed the strong resemblance between him and Dr. Lacey. At last Mr. Miller spoke of it, and Stanton replied, "Yes, I've been told so before. Dr. Lacey is my cousin."[pg 086]"Indeed!" said Mr. Miller. Then turning to his wife, he added, "Where is Fanny? She ought to be here. It might do her as much good as seeing the doctor himself.""I should like to see Miss Fanny," said Stanton, "as I am told she is to be my cousin."A malicious smile curled Julia's lip, as she thought, "I think it is very doubtful whether she is ever your cousin"; but Mrs. Miller arose and said, "I think she is in her room. I will call her."Going to Fanny's room she knocked gently at the door; there was no response, and she knocked again more loudly. But still there was no answer; and Mrs. Miller thought she could distinguish a low, stifled sob. Pushing open the door, she saw the usually gay-hearted Fanny seated on the floor, her head resting on a chair, over which her hair fell like a golden gleam of sunlight. A second glance convinced Kate that Fanny was weeping."Why, Fanny," said she, "what is the matter? What are you crying for?"Fanny did not reply, but as Mrs. Miller drew her up from the floor and placed her on the sofa, she laid her head in Kate's lap and wept still more passionately. At length Mrs. Miller succeeded in soothing her, and then insisted on knowing what was the cause of her distress."Oh," said Fanny, "do not ask me, for I can only tell you that nobody loves me long at a time—nobody but my dear old father, mother, and the blacks.""You should not say so, Fanny dear," said Kate. "You know we all love you very much, and you say that within a few weeks Julia has been uniformly kind and affectionate to you.""Yes, I know she is, but—""But what?" said Mrs. Miller. "Anything the trouble with Dr. Lacey?""Yes, that's it! That's it!" said Fanny in a low voice."Why, what's the matter? Is he sick?" asked Kate."Oh, no. If he were I would go to him. But, Mrs. Miller, for four long weeks he has not written me one word. Now if he were sick or dead, somebody would write to me; but it isn't that—I am afraid he's false. Julia thinks he is, and she is sorry for me, there is some comfort in that.""Not written in four weeks? Perhaps he has written and his letters have been miscarried," said Kate."Oh, no, that cannot be," answered Fanny. "His first[pg 087]four letters came in the course of two weeks, but since then I have not had a word.""Have you written to him since his letters ceased?" asked Kate."Yes, once, and I am sorry I did," answered Fanny; "but I asked Julia if I had better, and she said it would do no harm.""Perhaps," said Mrs. Miller, "he is intending to return soon and wishes to surprise you, or it may be he is testing the strength of your attachment. But I would not suffer myself to be so much distressed until I was sure he was false. Come, dry your eyes and go with me to the parlor. There are some young gentlemen here from New York. One of them is Dr. Lacey's cousin. He wishes to see you.""Oh, no, no!" said Fanny, quickly. "I cannot go down. You must excuse me to him."So Mrs. Miller returned to the parlor, and said Fanny was not feeling very well and wished to be excused.Stanton and Raymond passed a very pleasant evening, and ere its close they had arranged with Mrs. Crane for rooms and board. On their way to the hotel, Raymond suddenly exclaimed, "I say, Bob, I'm head over heels in love!""In love with whom?" was Stanton's quiet reply."In love with whom?" repeated Raymond. "Why, Bob, is it possible your head is so full of Nellie Ashton that you do not know that we have been in company this evening with a perfect Hebe, an angel, a divine creature?""Please stop," said Stanton, "and not deal in so many superlatives. Which of the fair ladies made such havoc with your heart? Was it Mrs. Crane?""Mrs. Crane! Witch of Endor just as soon," answered Raymond. "Why, man alive, 'twas the beautiful Mrs. Carrington. I tell you what, Bob, my destiny is upon me and she is its star. I see in her my future wife.""Why, Fred," said Mr. Stanton, "are you crazy? Mrs. Carrington is at least nearly thirty-five, and you are not yet twenty-five.""I don't care for that," replied Raymond. "She may be thirty, and she may be a hundred, but she looks sixteen. Such glorious eyes I never saw. And she almost annihilated me with one of her captivating smiles. Her name, too, is my favorite.""Her name? Pray, how did you learn her name?" asked Stanton."Why," answered Raymond, "you know we were talking[pg 088]together a part of the evening. Our conversation turned upon names, and I remarked that Ida was my favorite. Bob, you ought to have seen her smile as she told me Ida was her own name. Perhaps I said something foolish, for I replied that Ida was a beautiful name and only fitted for such as she; but she smiled still more sweetly and said I knew how to flatter.""Well," answered Stanton. "I hardly think you will win her, if what our friend Ashton said is true. You have no million to offer her.""Oh, fly on your million!" said Raymond. "She's got to have me any way. If I can't get her by fair means, I'll resort to stratagem."Thus the young man raved for nearly half an hour about Mrs. Carrington, whose handsome features, glossy curls, bright eyes, brilliant complexion and agreeable manners had nearly turned his head. Mrs. Carrington, too, had received an impression. There was something in Raymond's dashing manner, which she called "air," and she felt greatly pleased with his flattering compliments. She thought he would be a very pleasant companion to flirt with for an hour or two; but could she have known what his real intentions concerning her were she would have spurned him with contempt—as she afterward did.The next day at dinner Stanton and Raymond took their seats at Mrs. Crane's table. To Raymond's great delight Mrs. Carrington sat opposite him. Stanton occupied Dr. Lacey's seat, which brought Fanny directly in front of him. Fanny had been prepared in a measure for the striking resemblance between Stanton and Dr. Lacey; but when she was introduced to him, his looks brought Dr. Lacey so forcibly before her that she instantly grew pale and half wished to leave the room. But a look from Mrs. Miller reassured her, and she took her accustomed place at the table.Ere dinner was over she had forgotten for the time her lover's neglect, and was in the midst of an animated conversation with Stanton, who was much pleased with his cousin's choice. Stanton's looks and manners were so much like Dr. Lacey's that Fanny felt herself irresistibly drawn toward him and her face assumed a brighter aspect than it had worn for many days. Julia watched her closely and felt that nothing could please her better than a flirtation between Stanton and her sister.But such was not a part of Fanny's intentions. She liked Stanton because he was agreeable, intelligent and Dr.[pg 089]Lacey's cousin; but she would sooner have parted with her right hand than have done anything inconsistent with her engagement with Dr. Lacey. On the other hand, Stanton's heart was too strongly fortified with Nellie's charms to admit of an entrance to the gentle Fanny. But he admired her very much, and seemed to think that she had some claim upon him in the absence of his cousin.Thus, as days went on, his polite attentions toward Fanny increased, and Julia resolved to make this fact work for the accomplishment of her designs.

[pg 083]Among Mr. Middleton's negroes there was a boy twelve years of age whose name was Bob. On the morning following the incidents narrated in the last chapter, Bob was sent up to make a fire for "the young marsters." He had just coaxed the coal and kindlings into a blaze, when Raymond awoke, and spying the negro, called out, "Hello, there! Tom, Dick, Harry, what may be your name?"

"My name is Bob, sar."

"Oh, Bob is it? Bob what? Have you no other name?"

"No, sar, 'cept it's Marster Josh. I 'longs to him."

"Belong to Master Josh, do you? His name isn't Josh, it is Joshua."

"Yes, marster."

"Well, then, Bob, if his name is Joshua, what must yours be?" said Raymond.

"Dun know, unless it's Bobaway," answered the negro, with a broad grin.

"Bobaway! That's rich," said Raymond, laughing heartily at the rapid advancement of his pupil.

After a moment's pause, he again called out, "I say, Bobaway, did it snow last night?"

"No, sar, it didn't snow; it done frosted," said Bob.

"Done frosted, hey?" said Raymond. "You're a smart boy, Bob. What'll you sell yourself for?"

"Dun know; hain't nothing to sell 'cept my t'other hat and a bushel of hickory-nuts," answered Bob; "but I reckon how marster ax about five hundred, 'case I's right spry when I hain't got the rheumatiz."

"Got the rheumatiz, have you, Bob? Where?"

"In my belly, sar," answered Bob. Here the young men burst into a loud laugh, and Raymond said, "Five hundred is cheap, Bob; I'll give more than that."

Bob opened his large white eyes to their utmost extent, and looking keenly at Raymond slowly quitted the room.[pg 084]On reaching the kitchen he told Aunt Judy, who was his mother, "that ef marster ever acted like he was goin' for to sell him to that ar chap, what poked fun at him, he'd run away, sartin."

"And be cotched and git shet up," said Aunt Judy.

"I'd a heap rather be shet up 'tarnally than to 'long to anybody 'sides Marster Josh," said Bob.

During breakfast Mr. Middleton suddenly exclaimed, while looking at Stanton, "I've been tryin' ever since you've been here to think who you look like, and I've jest thought. It's Dr. Lacey."

"Who, sir?" said Stanton in some surprise.

"Dr. Lacey. D'ye know him?" asked Mr. Middleton.

"Dr. Lacey of New Orleans?" asked Stanton.

"The same," returned Mr. Middleton. "You look as much like him as two peas, only you wear goggles. Connection of your'n I reckon?"

"Yes, sir," answered Stanton, "he is my cousin. I have been told that we resemble each other."

"By Jupiter!" said Mr. Middleton, "that's just the checker. No wonder I like you so well. And Dr. Lacey goin' to marry Sunshine, too. Your sweetheart ought to look like Fanny. Got her picter, hey?"

Stanton handed him Nellie's daguerreotype, and he pretended to discover a close resemblance between her and Fanny; but neither Mrs. Middleton, nor Mr. Ashton could trace any, for which Mr. Middleton called them both blockheads.

"I think," said Mrs. Middleton, "that she looks more like Mr. Ashton than she does like Fanny."

"It is similarity of name which makes her resemble him," said Raymond.

"Why, is her name Ashton?" asked Middleton.

"Yes, sir," said Stanton.

"Mebbe she's your sister, Ashton. But Lord knows she don't look no more like you than she does like old Josh."

"She cannot be my sister," said Ashton, "for I had but one, and she is dead."

After breakfast Mr. Middleton ordered out his carriage and bade Ike drive the gentlemen to Frankfort.

"I'd go myself," said he, "but I've got a fetched headache. Give my love to my gals and tell them I'm comin' to see 'em shortly. You'd better go to the Whizzakor House, till you find out whether or not Miss Crane 'll board you."

The young men thanked him for his hospitality, and bade[pg 085]him good morning. As they were leaving the yard they passed Bob, who was still limping with the "rheumatiz." Raymond bade Ike stop, while he threw "Bobaway" some pennies. Bob picked them up and looked at them with a rueful face.

"What's the matter, Bobaway?" asked Raymond. "Don't they suit?"

"No, sir," said Bob. "I like fopences; I don't want nothin' of these old iron rocks."

Each of the men threw Bob a sixpence, for which they were rewarded with a sight of his ivories and a loud "thank-ee-sar." After a ride of two hours they reached the Weisiger House in Frankfort. Soon after arriving there, Mr. Ashton introduced Stanton into one of the best law offices in the town, and then repaired to his former lodgings.

In the course of the afternoon Raymond sought out Mr. Miller, and with a somewhat quizzical face handed him Mr. Middleton's letter of introduction. After reading it, Mr. Miller offered his hand to Raymond, and said, "I am glad, Mr. Raymond, that you happened here just at this time, for my school is large, and I am in want of a classical teacher. You are a graduate of Yale, it seems?"

"Yes, sir," returned Raymond; "and by the way, Mr. Middleton told me that you had won a New Haven girl—Miss Kate Wilmot. I knew her very well."

"Ah, is it possible?" said Mr. Miller, his face beaming. "Come with me to Mrs. Crane's," said he. "Kate will be glad to see an old friend."

"Thank you," answered Raymond; "but I have a companion with me, a Mr. Stanton, who also knew Miss Wilmot. He is going into a law office here. We both of us intend calling at Mrs. Crane's this evening, and if possible we shall procure board there."

So they parted, and Raymond returned to the Weisiger House, while Mr. Miller hastened home to make some inquiries concerning his new assistant, and to inform Mrs. Crane of her prospect for more boarders.

That evening Stanton and Raymond called. They found assembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Carrington and Julia. Kate instantly recognized the young gentlemen as old acquaintances, and presented them to her friends. When Stanton entered the room all observed the strong resemblance between him and Dr. Lacey. At last Mr. Miller spoke of it, and Stanton replied, "Yes, I've been told so before. Dr. Lacey is my cousin."

[pg 086]"Indeed!" said Mr. Miller. Then turning to his wife, he added, "Where is Fanny? She ought to be here. It might do her as much good as seeing the doctor himself."

"I should like to see Miss Fanny," said Stanton, "as I am told she is to be my cousin."

A malicious smile curled Julia's lip, as she thought, "I think it is very doubtful whether she is ever your cousin"; but Mrs. Miller arose and said, "I think she is in her room. I will call her."

Going to Fanny's room she knocked gently at the door; there was no response, and she knocked again more loudly. But still there was no answer; and Mrs. Miller thought she could distinguish a low, stifled sob. Pushing open the door, she saw the usually gay-hearted Fanny seated on the floor, her head resting on a chair, over which her hair fell like a golden gleam of sunlight. A second glance convinced Kate that Fanny was weeping.

"Why, Fanny," said she, "what is the matter? What are you crying for?"

Fanny did not reply, but as Mrs. Miller drew her up from the floor and placed her on the sofa, she laid her head in Kate's lap and wept still more passionately. At length Mrs. Miller succeeded in soothing her, and then insisted on knowing what was the cause of her distress.

"Oh," said Fanny, "do not ask me, for I can only tell you that nobody loves me long at a time—nobody but my dear old father, mother, and the blacks."

"You should not say so, Fanny dear," said Kate. "You know we all love you very much, and you say that within a few weeks Julia has been uniformly kind and affectionate to you."

"Yes, I know she is, but—"

"But what?" said Mrs. Miller. "Anything the trouble with Dr. Lacey?"

"Yes, that's it! That's it!" said Fanny in a low voice.

"Why, what's the matter? Is he sick?" asked Kate.

"Oh, no. If he were I would go to him. But, Mrs. Miller, for four long weeks he has not written me one word. Now if he were sick or dead, somebody would write to me; but it isn't that—I am afraid he's false. Julia thinks he is, and she is sorry for me, there is some comfort in that."

"Not written in four weeks? Perhaps he has written and his letters have been miscarried," said Kate.

"Oh, no, that cannot be," answered Fanny. "His first[pg 087]four letters came in the course of two weeks, but since then I have not had a word."

"Have you written to him since his letters ceased?" asked Kate.

"Yes, once, and I am sorry I did," answered Fanny; "but I asked Julia if I had better, and she said it would do no harm."

"Perhaps," said Mrs. Miller, "he is intending to return soon and wishes to surprise you, or it may be he is testing the strength of your attachment. But I would not suffer myself to be so much distressed until I was sure he was false. Come, dry your eyes and go with me to the parlor. There are some young gentlemen here from New York. One of them is Dr. Lacey's cousin. He wishes to see you."

"Oh, no, no!" said Fanny, quickly. "I cannot go down. You must excuse me to him."

So Mrs. Miller returned to the parlor, and said Fanny was not feeling very well and wished to be excused.

Stanton and Raymond passed a very pleasant evening, and ere its close they had arranged with Mrs. Crane for rooms and board. On their way to the hotel, Raymond suddenly exclaimed, "I say, Bob, I'm head over heels in love!"

"In love with whom?" was Stanton's quiet reply.

"In love with whom?" repeated Raymond. "Why, Bob, is it possible your head is so full of Nellie Ashton that you do not know that we have been in company this evening with a perfect Hebe, an angel, a divine creature?"

"Please stop," said Stanton, "and not deal in so many superlatives. Which of the fair ladies made such havoc with your heart? Was it Mrs. Crane?"

"Mrs. Crane! Witch of Endor just as soon," answered Raymond. "Why, man alive, 'twas the beautiful Mrs. Carrington. I tell you what, Bob, my destiny is upon me and she is its star. I see in her my future wife."

"Why, Fred," said Mr. Stanton, "are you crazy? Mrs. Carrington is at least nearly thirty-five, and you are not yet twenty-five."

"I don't care for that," replied Raymond. "She may be thirty, and she may be a hundred, but she looks sixteen. Such glorious eyes I never saw. And she almost annihilated me with one of her captivating smiles. Her name, too, is my favorite."

"Her name? Pray, how did you learn her name?" asked Stanton.

"Why," answered Raymond, "you know we were talking[pg 088]together a part of the evening. Our conversation turned upon names, and I remarked that Ida was my favorite. Bob, you ought to have seen her smile as she told me Ida was her own name. Perhaps I said something foolish, for I replied that Ida was a beautiful name and only fitted for such as she; but she smiled still more sweetly and said I knew how to flatter."

"Well," answered Stanton. "I hardly think you will win her, if what our friend Ashton said is true. You have no million to offer her."

"Oh, fly on your million!" said Raymond. "She's got to have me any way. If I can't get her by fair means, I'll resort to stratagem."

Thus the young man raved for nearly half an hour about Mrs. Carrington, whose handsome features, glossy curls, bright eyes, brilliant complexion and agreeable manners had nearly turned his head. Mrs. Carrington, too, had received an impression. There was something in Raymond's dashing manner, which she called "air," and she felt greatly pleased with his flattering compliments. She thought he would be a very pleasant companion to flirt with for an hour or two; but could she have known what his real intentions concerning her were she would have spurned him with contempt—as she afterward did.

The next day at dinner Stanton and Raymond took their seats at Mrs. Crane's table. To Raymond's great delight Mrs. Carrington sat opposite him. Stanton occupied Dr. Lacey's seat, which brought Fanny directly in front of him. Fanny had been prepared in a measure for the striking resemblance between Stanton and Dr. Lacey; but when she was introduced to him, his looks brought Dr. Lacey so forcibly before her that she instantly grew pale and half wished to leave the room. But a look from Mrs. Miller reassured her, and she took her accustomed place at the table.

Ere dinner was over she had forgotten for the time her lover's neglect, and was in the midst of an animated conversation with Stanton, who was much pleased with his cousin's choice. Stanton's looks and manners were so much like Dr. Lacey's that Fanny felt herself irresistibly drawn toward him and her face assumed a brighter aspect than it had worn for many days. Julia watched her closely and felt that nothing could please her better than a flirtation between Stanton and her sister.

But such was not a part of Fanny's intentions. She liked Stanton because he was agreeable, intelligent and Dr.[pg 089]Lacey's cousin; but she would sooner have parted with her right hand than have done anything inconsistent with her engagement with Dr. Lacey. On the other hand, Stanton's heart was too strongly fortified with Nellie's charms to admit of an entrance to the gentle Fanny. But he admired her very much, and seemed to think that she had some claim upon him in the absence of his cousin.

Thus, as days went on, his polite attentions toward Fanny increased, and Julia resolved to make this fact work for the accomplishment of her designs.

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