"But you did not accept of his invitation, Winnie?"

"How could I resist such a temptation? I have been longing to hear Madam Forresti, and with Mr. Montague for an escort, I do not see the least impropriety in attending. I need not trouble mother about it, for she is so nervous to-day she will not leave her room; and I do not think she can object to my going."

"Oh, Winnie! how could you do so? I know your mother would not wish you to appear in public with Mr. Montague! Not but that he may be worthy of attention, but he is the same as a stranger to us, for your father has known him but a little while, and I noticed that your mother appeared uneasy when he called last, for he has made us frequent visits, on so short an acquaintance."

"You do not surely suppose that my father would introduce any one into his family, who is not a fit associate for his daughter?" retorted Winnie, her face flushing with excitement.

"No, I do not think so; but you would not go without consulting your mother's wishes?"

"And why not? Mother will never be the wiser for it, and I cannot see that she can reasonably object; besides, am I always to be a child? I must some time or other act for myself."

"Dear Winnie, do not talk so! You have one of the best of mothers, and she will not deprive you of any pleasure, unless it is for your own good. But do not be displeased with me for speaking my thoughts, for I love you as a sister, and cannot bear to have you do anything that would not be right."

Winnie was about to give way to those passions which an indulged child invariably possesses, and being naturally of a very sensitive nature, she could not sit easy under those opinions from others, which were in opposition to her own views, and trembling with rage, she turned to the Sea-flower,—but the fire of her eye was subdued, her tongue did not give utterance to the bitter, cruel words, which would have sounded so strangely upon an ear that had never known such tones! she gave one look at the gentle, submissive face of the Sea-flower, and burst into tears. Such tears, from the high-spirited Winnie Santon, was a strange sight. Her proud, rebellious spirit had for once been conquered, and what was not such a lesson worth?

"O, Natalie!" she exclaimed, "how I wish I could be like you! I was just upon the point of saying what I know I should have repented! I am so glad you have come to be with us!"

Nothing more was said about going to hear Madame Forresti, but when evening came, Winnie, after leaving a message with Biddy for Mr. Montague, that she must be excused, sought her mother's room, where she found Sea-flower, who was reading to the invalid, and the rich tones of her voice conveyed far more happiness to her heart, than would have been hers, had she listened to the far-famed songstress, with a conscience speaking of undutifulness. Natalie was reading from the "Christian's Hope," and as she read, ever and anon cast her eye toward Winnie, who appeared unusually thoughtful. The nervous state, however, of Mrs. Santon would admit of but little excitement, and as Natalie closed her book, and rose to bid her good-night, she observed that she looked unusually happy, and taking her dear children by the hand, she thanked them tenderly for their devoted attention to her, and drawing close to Winnie she whispered in her ear,—"It is such a comfort to me, dear, that you prefer your mother's sick room to more attractive society!" Had she known of the struggle which had been going on in her daughter's heart, through the influence of the gentle one whom she looked upon as a well-loved child, her eye could hardly have been brighter than it was, as her child pressed a kiss upon her forehead, and said, "I shall always love best to be with you mother."

That night Winnie retired with a determination to strive to overcome her sinful ways, and as she heard the voice of the Sea-flower at her evening devotions, (their rooms adjoining,) she spoke aloud, "I will try to be more like her." With this resolve, she fell asleep; but as the rising sun peeped in at her window, there were to be found no traces of her evening resolutions! If any thing, mischief looked out upon the new day with renewed earnestness, and Winnie Santon was the same gay, reckless creature as ever.

"Ah, ha, miss puss, so your bow is new strung again, is it?" said Mr. Santon to his daughter, as the door closed upon one of the mustached upper ten, who frequently found their way to the elegant mansion of Mr. Santon.

"'New strung' with an old string, father; if these exquisites are foolish enough to burn their fingers a second time, they must suffer the consequences."

Mr. Santon laughed, and merely said,—"Oh, you cruel beauty!" returning to his paper again; but, seated in the bay-window was one, who could not thus lightly look upon the conduct of the coquettish Winnie, for it was evident she was a sad coquette. Often had Natalie observed her, as she received each admirer with the same bewitching smile, impressing him with the belief that he of all others was the favored one, and he would depart, to return again as early as the rules of propriety would admit, considering the fair one was not yet out.

"Natalie," asked Winnie, as she seated herself at her embroidery, "why did you not deign to give Mr. Redfield one of your winning smiles? You are so reserved, and take so little notice of the gentlemen, that I shall begin to think your charms are doomed to fade beneath the convent veil."

"I was not aware that I did not receive Mr. Redfield with cordiality."

"Yes, but the absence of that fascinating air, which you know would bring the most unyielding to your feet, is what I am lamenting. Had Mr. Redfield been my only admirer, I should have been jealous of the glances which he cast at you; but I don't know as there would be any occasion for that, for you, whose heart is made for love, seem to be in no danger at present of losing it."

"I certainly respect the gentlemen who visit us, but as for having a preference for one more than another, I have not; and, Winnie dear, just ask yourself if you ever give one thought to any one of those who deceive themselves by thinking that they, of all others, are preeminent in your regards."

"I must acknowledge that I do not give them a thought, after the door once closes upon them; poor, deluded creatures!"

"But do you think it right to deceive them thus?"

"Natie, darling, if you were not the most romantic creature that ever was, I should call you Miss Matter-of-fact! But really, I don't know as there is anything very criminal in helping such people to open their eyes; they find out, sooner or later, that I am of the opinion,—there are as good fish in the sea as ever was caught."

The Sea-flower said no more, for she feared her words might be worse than useless; but such are never idle words, and though Winnie appeared to give them little heed, yet many times afterward, in the midst of her gaiety, did she remember the Sea-flower's question,—"is it right to deceive thus?"

* * * * *

"Eighteen years old to-day! Mother, just eighteen to-day!" shouted Winnie, as she came into the breakfast room, her cheeks vieing with the red of the rose; "how happy I am!" and casting a look of contempt at the hot rolls and coffee, as if such things were hereafter to be classed among the necessities of the past, she went bounding away to find her father. Opening the door of the boudoir, she paused; arranged upon the table were her birthday gifts, and Mr. Santon had spared no pains to make the collection as rare as possible. In the centre of the table was a set of diamonds for the hair, and as Winnie clasped them about her dark tresses, she laughed outright, exclaiming,—"They are so handsome! papa, I cannot wait for night to come! But what is this?" she asked, drawing from a case a string of pearls, and holding them up to the light. In the centre of the collection was one curiously wrought pearl, so formed as to represent a star, and the sparkling of several diamonds from within, produced a very brilliant effect. Examining it closely, she discovered the initials, "N. G.," wrought upon the setting."

"It is for you, Natalie!" she exclaimed to the Sea-flower, who stood enjoying Winnie's delight. "I thank you, father, for remembering dear Natalie."

"Is it for me?" asked Natalie, hesitating to receive the gift.

"Yes, take it," said Mr. Santon, putting the treasure into her hand; "keep it as a memento of our high esteem for you; and," added he, "I, for one, shall petition, after you have finished your studies, to have you remain with us another season, that we may then have more of your society."

Natalie expressed her sincere thanks, but the mention of remaining another season brought to her remembrance her mother's last letter, which spoke of her return, and how delighted they would all be to have her in their little home once more.

The long wished-for time, when Winnie should appear in public, as the accomplished Miss Santon, at length arrived. Several hundred cards had been issued for the occasion, and to Winnie's delight but few regrets had been received; "for," said she, "what is the use of doing things by the halves?" Mrs. Santon's health had for the last few days been much improved; so much so, that Winnie had gained from her the promise to fill her station for a part of the evening. The brilliant lights already streamed from every window in the mansion, and the finishing touch, (if such a thing can be said of a lady's toilet,) had been made by Winnie's attendant, much to the satisfaction of all concerned; for although the beauty was willing to submit to all the tortures of hair-dressing, etc., etc., yet before she was quite converted into a "Parisian belle," she positively declared she would suffer none of those officials to come into her presence again for a month. Surveying herself with an air which would have done credit to a queen, she proceeded to the Sea-flower's apartments, thinking to banter her a little in her endeavors to make perfection perfect; but instead of finding her still in dishabille, she had long ago dismissed her attendant, and was quietly engaged in reading her bible, before she engaged in those scenes of gaiety which had less attractions for her.

"Why, you charming creature!" exclaimed Winnie, "I can't help comparing you to a fairy, preparing for a camp-meeting!" and her wild laugh was heard reechoing from hall to hall, Natalie smiling at her ludicrous comparison.

"Why do you look at me with such a bewildered gaze, Winnie? Is my simple dress not to your fastidious taste?"

"You could not have found anything more becoming, Natie dear; you will eclipse us all!" and Winnie, taking both her hands in hers, gazed into her face as if spell-bound.

"I have seen some beautiful picture, somewhere," she exclaimed, "which is like you! but where, I cannot tell; and yet, when I look at you, the association is so fresh in my mind! Yes, you will be our evening star."

"Venus is morning star now," said Natalie, glancing at the brilliant dress of Winnie; "yet for all that, she will favor us with her presence this evening."

As the two descended to the boudoir, they were met by Mr. Santon, who, shutting his eyes, exclaimed,—"Bless me! I have looked upon the glorious morning, in the beauty of its freshness, and the gentle evening, so pure, but to see them approaching, hand in hand, is too much for any 'live man!'"

Escorting the fair ones to Mrs. Santon's side, he proudly gazed upon their dazzling beauty,—beauty in its perfection sitting upon each countenance, and yet, such a contrast! Winnie was arrayed in a rich attire of delicate blue, her boddice wrought about with silver threads, representing the light of the crescent moon, her skirt interwoven with numerous lesser lights, as it were, stars of various magnitudes, producing a splendid effect in the flood of gas-light; and the set of diamonds bound about her dark tresses, which fell in rich profusion about her finely arched neck, setting off her dark complexion, her cheeks roseate with health, to great advantage; and as she moved among her guests; her tall, slender form, so full of dignity, she was the "observed of all observers." Her winning smile, so dangerous to those gallants in attendance who had never realized the true sense of coquetry, was unusually fascinating, and every one who had been honored by Miss Winnie's notice, pronounced her decidedly the belle of the season; but as they turned to the gentle creature at her side, their thoughts gradually assumed a different cast,—unconsciously the mind wandered to other scenes than are usually of a fashionable evening entertainment. It were absurd to call her a "belle," for the word seemed void of expression.

The Sea-flower wore a simple dress of white blonde, with no other ornament than the band of pearls, which had been the gift of her well-loved friends. The little star, which was formed by the glittering of the diamonds through the delicately-wrought pearl, which being the centre of the collection was worn upon her forehead, sparkling like tiny drops of dew; and as she glided with unstudied grace among those who sought to know more of her, she gained the name of "the gentle star."

It was yet early in the evening. Sauntering along one of the principal streets were two young men, engaged in conversation. We will listen awhile, for we may be interested.

"Do you go to Santon's to-night, Delwood?" asked the younger of the two, who was far less prepossessing in appearance than his companion.

"Umph,—yes," replied the other, in a more reserved tone. "Do you make one of the number?"

"You don't know Dick Montague if you think he would miss of such an occasion. Wit and beauty do not hold forth every night. Old Santon has but one daughter, you know."

Mr. Delwood made no reply to these coarse remarks, for nothing could have been in greater contrast, than the refined, gentlemanly nature of Mr. Delwood, to that of young Montague, whom we recognize as the same gentleman (if such young men who wear two faces, putting aside the decorum of intelligent society, for the rude jests and unrefined manners of other associates, can be called gentlemen,) who had attracted Mrs. Santon's notice by his frequent visits to her daughter. Before proceeding farther, we will give our patient reader a little insight to the history of these two personages, whom we consider of sufficient note in our simple narrative, for inducing us to tear ourselves away, for a little while, from the attractions at Santon Mansion.

Clarence Delwood belonged to one of the most aristocratic families in Boston. He was an only son, upon whom had been bestowed all of those advantages which are to be derived from a princely fortune. At the early age of twenty-two he had graduated at one of the first institutions in Paris, where he had been placed by his haughty, overbearing father, who looked upon things American as low and vulgar. The son had not inherited that proud, unyielding spirit of his father, yet he was like him, inasmuch as he possessed the same dignified, reserved manner, the which, having called forth the startling declaration from manoeuvering mothers, and languishing daughters, that "Mr. Clarence Delwood would look farther than Boston for a bride." So they had folded their gossamer wings with resignation, receiving his polite attentions with pleasure, yet never being able to penetrate the reserve which hung around him. To say that our hero was handsome, would be saying but little, for one often meets with such; but with the almost feminine pensiveness which characterized his manly features, we meet seldom. Tall and commanding in his appearance, his dark, glossy hair, and finely curved mustache, gave a fine effect to his noble countenance, the peculiar light of his eye speaking volumes.

Such was the character of our friend Delwood, whom we shall shortly usher into the presence of Miss Winnie Santon, that we may find what success those penetrating eyes, which grew big with mischief even in a prairie home, shall have in lifting the veil which concealed in a measure the true sentiments of a noble heart from the world at large.

We give our readers an insight to the character of Richard Montague at once, when we say that he was what is commonly termed "a young man about town." By some means, a mystery, even to himself, he had gained a foothold among the upper classes of society, and by dint of strict observance of the manners of others, he had been thus far enabled to retain his position. What his prospects in regard to pecuniary affairs were, no one was able to say; suffice it, that there had been rumors of an old bachelor uncle, who was much increased in this world's goods, whose trembling hand held the desired treasure over the young man's head; and as this report had not been corrected by Montague, he not being over-burdened with many scruples of conscience, it is not surprising that there should have been those, who looked upon him as a desirable match for their dowerless daughters; but he, having realized the desolation which empty pockets can produce, was now living upon the hope that he might build upon his fortune, which never had foundation, by introducing himself among the fair ones of uppertendom, as a candidate for matrimony. For some time he had had an eye to the well-filled purse of Winnie Santon, and he had looked forward to this night, when she should make her debut, with as great interest as had Winnie herself. Could he once get initiated into her good graces, he had no fears for the rest; and he had already visions of what he was pleased to term, "Old Santon's chest of gold." The attentions with which Winnie had received him, on former occasions, had served in no way to lessen his confidence as to his success, and with this end in view, his steps were bent towards the scene of gaiety. Reasons best known to himself, forbidding him to pass Mr. Delwood, whom he overtook on the way.

"Quite an affair to-night! I'm thinking," remarked Montague, as he observed Delwood's cool indifference, and endeavoring to draw him into conversation, he added, "there's a young protege of Santon's, staying with his daughter, who, I hear, hails from down east. Nantucket, I believe, perhaps we may get a little information on harpooning!"

"Ah?" said Delwood, mechanically.

"Yes, the boys will have some sport I'm thinking; perhaps some of them may be induced to ship as mate, for a down east voyage! I remember of sailing by Nantucket many years ago, on my return from Liverpool, (he did not add that he had worked his passage) and though some twenty miles distant, we fancied that we got a whiff of the hump-backs. Our captain was a jolly sort of fellow, and would have us land-lubbers believe that his experienced eye could see half across the ocean, but he found we were too smart for him, when he told us he could see a church-steeple looming up on the island, for of course we knew that such things were not raised there."

Much to Mr. Delwood's relief, they had now arrived at Mr. Santon's residence. As the name of Delwood was announced, all eyes were turned toward him, for his presence was considered a great acquisition to any circle, and many a fair one envied Winnie Santon, as he claimed her hand for the first dance. The Sea-flower stood by Mrs. Santon's side, that she might attend to her least wish, when young Montague, disappointed that he had not been the first to secure the hand of Winnie, in an obsequious manner, solicited the pleasure of Miss Grosvenor's company, to complete the set, but she politely declining the honor, the young man, by the aid of the brass which constituted no small portion of his composition, begged leave to remain by her side, that he might make some few inquiries in regard to her enchanting home, which place he always had a great desire to visit.

"The islanders I suppose are mostly fishermen, yet," added he, glancing rudely into her face, "there are some persons of intelligence among them, are there not?"

Natalie looked at him for a moment, as if in doubt whether ignorance or some meaner motive had prompted the question, when she remarked, "you evidently have never learned of the great dangers attendant upon a stranger's visit to Nantucket."

"Ah, indeed, I shall be under great obligations for the information," said he, his eyes wide open with curiosity! "pray, what are those dangers?"

"The islanders, as you have imagined, being so unlike the inhabitants of civilized lands, have such a natural propensity for wielding the harpoon, that should a person differing from their kind appear amongst them, they might be liable to capture him, mistaking the object for a new species of land-shark!"

At this piece of information, delivered in such a calm, pleasant manner, the smiles which had been visible on the faces of those who listened, grew into a hearty laugh, in which the chagrined Montague joined, as being the safest way of retreat, and although piqued by the ludicrous position in which he had been placed, he could not but look with admiration upon the gentle creature, whose pleasant repartee had been in self-defence.

Natalie followed with her eye the graceful form of Winnie, as she threaded her way through the dance, occasionally interchanging a witty remark with her handsome partner, and as he lead her to a seat, Natalie observed to Mrs. Santon, "how beautiful dear Winnie is to-night! I do not know who can help loving her!" So enthusiastic was she in her praises, that she had not observed the two contemplating her, and ere she was aware of their approach, the bewitching Winnie had taken her hand, and presenting Mr. Delwood, she mischievously remarked, "Now, Miss critic, it is for you to perform a la perfectione, and depend upon it, you shall be dealt with according to your own measure! for you have not once taken those eyes off from me through the whole course!"

Before Natalie could say a word in her defence, the music had commenced, and ere she had hardly realized it she had taken Winnie's place by the side of Mr. Delwood. Other eyes than Natalie's had looked upon Winnie with admiration, as she had leaned upon the arm of Delwood, but now, as he led forth "the gentle star," the suppressed murmur of applause must have been apparent to the fair one herself had she not been engaged with other thoughts. For several successive figures it so happened that Natalie was the partner of the reserved Mr. Delwood, who never was known to appear a second time upon the floor, and it also happened, how, or at what moment was a mystery, that the two had sought to dispel fatigue, by the conservatory's soothing influences, whither the eye of Winnie wandered ever and anon, as with Mr. Montague she vied with her competitors in the giddy waltz. Miss Winnie's brain was capable of containing two thoughts at the same time, and no one would have suspected, absorbed as she appeared to be with the attentions of Montague, who was playing the agreeable to the best of his knowledge, that her curiosity was at work, wondering what the subject of the truants, tete-a-tete might be. "They are discussing the rare exotics, sent to us from the South," she thought within herself, and indeed, what other could interest the cold-hearted Delwood? who, it was thought had never dreamed of love this side of the Atlantic; and as for Natalie, many a private lecture had she received from Winnie, in regard to her indifference toward the gentleman! though those discourses had been invariably of the same termination, "for all that, Natalie, your heart is made for love."

From the first moment that Clarence Delwood had set his eye upon the Sea-flower, an interest which he had never known before had been awakened within him. It may be said that it was a weakness, that he had always looked upon women as mere butterflies, but owing to early circumstances, he having been bereft of his mother in infancy, never having known the blessings of a sister's society, he was not to be condemned for the impressions which a gaudily attired attendant had left upon his mind as he grew up into boyhood. But as he listened to the Sea-flower, as she told him of her home in the sea, of the music of the glorious billows, companions of her childhood, filling the very soul with nature's beauty and sublimity, he looked upon her, as if fearful she might prove an "Undine," and he would not have been taken by surprise had her spiritual face faded calmly from beneath his gaze, to join her sister nymphs of ocean.

"And you will soon return to your island home?" he asked, as a thought of the warmth with which she had expressed herself to a stranger, bade her pause in her enthusiasm with downcast eye.

"Yes, I shall soon return," she answered joyously, "and yet I shall remember Boston with feelings of pleasure, for I have spent happy hours here."

As she said this, their eyes involuntarily met; a silent spectator would have noted the contrast of the moistened blue, to the deep black of sterner make, but as it was, that contrast was not discovered, each felt that the other was reading the thought, which had but then sprung up within the soul. Natalie withdrew her gaze, while Delwood, stooping to pluck a moss rose-bud from an urn at her feet, placed it within his diamond fastener, and the two retraced their steps to join their friends again. Montague was still at Winnie's side, and though the unusual flush upon Natalie's cheek was a sad tell-tale of the state of affairs, yet she observed Winnie as she listened with a ready ear to Montague's remarks, and an unpleasant feeling rose in her heart; she could not bear to have her dear friend on such intimate terms with him, whom, as by a natural instinct she shunned.

All things must have an end; and the cheerful lights, which houseless ones had watched as the bright beams fell across the pave, one by one had faded. Formal adieus had been said, kind wishes interchanged, and the last sound of rumbling wheels had died away. Excess of excitement bade the blooming Winnie seek repose, and quiet reigned triumphant at Santon Mansion; yet there was one who seemed to have forgotten that the morning follows so close upon the evening. The Sea-flower had lingered among the last to say adieu, and now, in her own apartment, she had sunk into a chair, the delicate pearls still encircling her sunny tresses, vieing in purity with her fair complexion; her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and she was not aware that the morning was peeping in upon her, till started from her reveries by her own gentle sighs.

And what spell is this that so usurps the calm, usually characteristic of her nature? We have a vague suspicion as to what it may be, yet she is all innocent of the source from which these new feelings have sprung; even the last low words of Delwood, which are still sounding in her ear, do not lead her to mistrust, and we leave her, as the fringed eyelids at last droop in repose, to take a peep at our hero, who is only distant a few squares from the gentle one, who, he feels, as he sits by the gas-light, made pallid by the dawn of day, is all the world to him.

If Delwood possessed the cold heart, of which the world gave him the credit, its fetters had at last yielded to the genial sunshine. Sleep was most remote from him, and pacing his room with a quick tread, he uttered, in a sarcastic tone—"Love! Clarence Delwood in love! Love at first sight! I never would have credited it!" his voice softening, he added—"I feel confident that she of all others, is the only one who could have wrought this change! No, I cannot look upon this as weakness! I must see more of her; she is an angel of purity, too good for such as I. Can she think favorably of me? and what will my father say, if he learns that his only son will sue for favor in the eyes of—it may be a maiden of low birth! It matters not! Should he disinherit me, I will seek her society! I must love her even though she look upon me coldly. I will see her again this very day!" with these resolves he threw himself upon his couch, if he might get a little rest, before he again went forth into the busy day, with feelings how changed!

Natalie was awakened from her late slumbers, by a kiss from Winnie, whose merry voice made the apartment ring. "So, ho! Miss Natalie," she exclaimed, "you have been holding late revels with the water nymphs by moonlight! and now, when the stronger light of the sun bids us mortals awake, you have made good your retreat, and are enjoying Morpheus's protecting care! but I can guess from whence the smiles came, as you slept! never fear, darling, I'll tell nobody of whom you dreamed!"

"Why, Winnie dear," exclaimed Natalie, endeavoring to free herself from the kisses which that crazy little body was lavishing upon her, "have I slept so late? and what has turned your head so early this morning? I do not know what will become of us all before the day is ended, if you go on thus." Opening her eyes, she looked about her, endeavoring to collect her senses. Her eye fell upon a bouquet, of the finest, most delicate flowers, in a vase, upon her toilet table; it had evidently been placed there since she had retired, as she did not remember of seeing it before. "You are very kind, Winnie, in being so thoughtful of me," she said, "but where did you get those beautiful varieties? they are not from our conservatory."

"O, you innocent rogue! you think to make me believe you know nothing of them, do you? they certainly came from some one who was thoughtful of your well-being! but come, make yourself look as charming as possible, for there is a friend awaiting us in the drawing room, who it is, I'll not say, for 'haste makes waste,' you know!"

Natalie blushed, for there came at once a rush of thoughts to her mind. She but then remembered the pleasures of last evening. Winnie giving her a knowing look, left her to her own reflections. Banishing all other thoughts from her mind, Natalie kneeled at her morning devotions, her low voice went up in thanks for the many blessings which were hers, not forgetting to ask for greater favors for her dear mother and brother, whom she expected so soon to meet, in two short weeks, at the time which had been fixed, when she would return to her home.

A simple morning dress of pink delise, edged with white, set off her light figure to a charm; her snowy collar fastened with a cross, and taking a lily of the valley from the mysterious bouquet, she placed it in her hair, and half-hesitating, lest Winnie had been playing off one of her mischievous tricks, she descended to the drawing-room. Seated upon an ottoman, was no other than Clarence Delwood, who arose as she entered, taking her proffered hand with some little embarrassment, which was soon dispelled by the adroit Winnie, who took a seat at the piano, and with a rich full voice sang the last opera. "Your friend, Miss Santon, has an enviable voice," remarked Delwood to Natalie, regarding the lily buds which he recognized as of the bouquet which he had ordered his servant to place in the hands of her attendant, giving no name of the donor. "Yes, I love to listen to her voice, it is so full of feeling; she has a peculiar style! The Signor tells me her voice is of great talent."

"I need not ask of your own voice," remarked Delwood, "for your tone betrays you."

"Yes," cried Winnie, who in spite of the music had an ear alive to the conversation, "it is moved and seconded that Miss Grosvenor shall give us a benefit, and if she fails to entertain us with her first attempt, she will lay herself open to be called upon again."

"She may rest assured that your sentiments, however expressed, will be truth in regard to the matter! for you are far from being a flatterer," said Mr. Santon, as entering the apartment he welcomed Mr. Delwood to his house. Natalie chose a simple piece—"The Wanderer's Home," and as the sound of her voice died away, there was not a dry eye in the room. Winnie was the first to break the spell, and smiling away a tear, she exclaimed, "I had forgotten to caution you against too great success in charming your listeners, therefore the encores of your audience will not permit you to retire without feeding the flame which you have excited."

"Remember you were not to flatter me," said Natalie, glancing at Delwood, who was silently contemplating her.

"Flattery or no flattery, you must repeat that to please me," said Mr. Santon, making manifest exertions to clear his throat, and looking for his handkerchief, as if suddenly seized with a cold. The piece was repeated with greater effect, and it was not till Winnie began to rally him that Delwood was aware of his negligence in escorting the fair songstress to a seat. "Pardon me, Miss Grosvenor," he said, "but the first tone of your voice carried me far back, to when I was a child of five or six years. It was in Italy, where my father spent some time, after my mother's death, and it so happened that I was permitted to accompany him to an entertainment given by an Italian lady of note, who, in the course of the evening, favored the company with a song. I was engaged with some sweetmeats as she commenced, but as she proceeded, gradually they fell from my hands, and when she had finished, I had found my way to her side, and clinging to her dress I burst into tears, begging her to take me to that beautiful place again! It is years since I have thought of the circumstance, and I trust you will pardon my enthusiasm, when I say that your "Wanderer's Home," has produced a similar effect!"

Natalie expressed her thanks for the compliment, with blushing modesty, and as Delwood bade them good morning, after having made arrangements for testing their courage with his iron grays, on the following morning; so long did his eye linger upon her, who had full command of his every thought, that he did not observe miss Winnie, who was trembling lest her fresh supply of mischief should come to an unendurable crisis, before he should depart.

It was soon rumored that the lion had been tamed, that the beautiful Miss Grosvenor had found her way to the heart of Clarence Delwood. Boston beauties sighed, and those who had been unsuccessful in what is sometimes termed "setting their caps," looked on with interest, but none who had seen the favored one, could find it in their hearts to wish her other than a life of joy. And thus time passed on, scarcely a day sped, but Clarence Delwood was seen ascending the steps of Mr. Santon's hospitable mansion. As Winnie expressed herself—"the affair was coming on bravely;" she had now found for whom Natalie was reserving that heart, which in spite of her caution, would impart to others its only element. The time was also drawing near, when Natalie was to have made glad her mother's heart by her presence. Old Vingo had desired his Massa Harry to write to young Missy, "dat eben de breakers gettin' impatient to see her once more, and dat he walk alone now, on de beach in de moonlight, but he neber 'speck to find anoder Sea-flower."

In a few days the Santon family were to part with Natalie. It was in vain they had urged upon her to remain with them another season, for as much as she had become attached to them all, she longed to see her home once more. Even Winnie failed to keep time with her usually joyous spirits, and there was one to whom this parting was not to be thought of. Mr. Delwood had as yet received no positive assurance, that his unmistakable sentiments towards Natalie were reciprocated, and yet he was confident that she regarded him with no common interest. He had read it in her soul, but he would hear from her own lips if happiness or misery was to be his through life, and it was with a nervous step that he wended his way on this last evening of her stay in Boston, that he might hear his fate. As he drew near the house, he observed, though early in the evening, but one dim light gleaming from an upper apartment, and as he reached the gate it was fast, and a porter stood within, who, to Delwood's hurried question if all was well, as he threw him a gold-piece, replied in a sad tone—"kind sir, my orders are to receive no one, as my mistress is dying, or you should have admittance at once; but I know that you, of all others, could serve to lighten the blow to my master, and if you take the responsibility, you shall be admitted."

"Leave that with me," he replied, "you shall not be censured," and with assumed calmness of manner, he entered. Noiselessly he opened the outer door, proceeding to the upper drawing-room, which opened to the room of the dying one. Mr. Santon sat with his face buried in his hands, sobbing aloud. Mr. Delwood took him tenderly by the hand, and whispered a few words in his ear, which seemed to rouse him from the dreadful state of mind to which he had yielded. "You find here a house of mourning," he said, "but your presence is most welcome."

"What can I do for you in this trying hour?" asked Delwood; "can I be of any assistance?"

"There is nothing to be done but to submit to the will of God," he answered, "and I pray that I may have strength so to do." The door of the chamber of death was opened, and the physician summoned Mr. Santon to his dying wife's bedside. Delwood stood in the door; pale, but not emaciated were the features upon which death had set his seal, her last moment was near, but she had strength and consciousness supported by the Sea-flower, to say a few parting words; with one hand in that of her husband, the other upon the head of her grief-stricken daughter, she said: "farewell, my dearest husband; it is but a little parting; you will meet me there at last." Turning to the Sea-flower, with her hand still upon the head of her daughter, she added, "my child will soon be motherless; through you, she is what I could wish to see her; and when I am gone, will you never lose sight of her? make her to be like yourself!" In a feeble voice she continued, "thank God that we may see heaven upon earth; the gentle spirit is pointing me to my rest;" a slight trembling of her weary frame, and she had gone to be with the "just made perfect;" a smile was upon her features, and they smoothed her limbs as for a night's repose. The father mingled his tears with those of his child, who was all that was left to him. The Sea-flower, leaning upon the arm of him who thought it not unmanly to weep over the scene he had witnessed, retired, leaving the afflicted ones to weep away the anguish in their hearts, ere they might look upon the loving kindness of Him, whose ways are all perfect.



CHAPTER IX.

BEHIND THE CLOUDS THE SUN IS SHINING.

"I am armed with innocence, Less penetrable than the steel-ribbed coats That harness round thy warriors."

MADDEN'S THEMISTOCLES.

"That one so formed in mind and charms to grace, The brightest scenes of life, should have her seat In the shadow of a cloud; and yet 'tis weakness. The angels watch the good and innocent, And where they gaze it must be glorious."

MRS. BALE'S "ORMOND GROSVENOR."

My gentle reader will pardon the long stride of time which here intervenes, disclosing nothing of those in whom we feel an interest. Nearly a year of moments had sped since that in which Mrs. Santon had passed away. Winnie had seen her loved mother laid in that narrow, silent house, which is prepared for the dead, and her tears had watered the green grass which groweth so silently,—upspringing everywhere, even in the lonely places of burial, a fit covering for those who slumber,—emblematical of the life beyond the tomb. The joyous mirth which abode in Winnie's nature had superseded, in a measure, days of deep mourning; yet this first taste of earth's sorrow had left an impress upon her mind never to be erased; and though thoughtless ones perhaps observed no change in her young, elastic spirits, there was one, gentle and youthful, who had been to her as a mother in her bereavement,—the Sea-flower. She could see that the death of a loved one had wrought a good work upon the heart of her friend, as it may with us all, if we will lie passive in the hands of the workman.

It was a disappointment to Natalie that her intention of returning home had been frustrated; yet it was with cheerfulness that she resigned her hopes, when she saw that duty pointed out another way. Mr. Santon, on the sudden death of his wife, which occurred on the very evening before Natalie was to bid them farewell, had himself written a very touching letter to Mrs. Grosvenor, begging, if it were not asking of her too much, that she would spare her daughter to them a little while longer, as it had been the last wish of Mrs. Santon that their daughter might be with her who had proved such a blessing to them all; and so, in pity for the dear ones of her friend, of whose death she was pained to learn, Mrs. Grosvenor had consented to another year's separation from her child, though it was indeed asking of her a great sacrifice. Old Vingo, who had wondered if his young missy would take him by the hand, as she used, when he heard that another long year must pass before he would see her again, cried like a child; but no one was more disappointed than Harry, who had counted the days for months, when she would come home; but his patience was not to be tested thus. He had visited his sister in Boston, and had received so favorable an impression of city life, or it may be that he had received a more favorable impression of a certain pair of black eyes, which were constantly fixed upon him, when he had accidentally glanced towards a certain young lady, whom, report said, (Mr. Montague being among the foremost to give credit thereto,) was the "greatest catch" in town. Whether it was actually the lady's beauty in question which had dazzled scores of disengaged young men, or whether they had seen visions of a well-built money-chest, we do not pretend to say; but this much we can perceive, that a beautiful young heiress, left to her own discretion in the choosing of a partner for life, stands in a critical situation, and if these innuendoes refer to Miss Winnie Santon, we are foremost in wishing our young nautical friend success in the great game of hearts, for we can see too much of worth in her character, for her to be thrown away on a worthless dandy, whose money, for the little time that it keeps him company, is his god. Be all this as it may, Harry Grosvenor had found several opportunities for visiting his sister, and upon each visit he was received, not only by the Sea-flower, but by Winnie herself, with a warm welcome.

But Winnie, as we have discovered, has been a sad coquette. Another year, however, has been added to her age since we saw her in society last, and this last year, so different from any other of her sunny life, has brought with it the knowledge and experience of many. Perhaps the Sea-flower's influence, which fortunately she has been under, may have had its effect upon her character, which is now forming itself; and yet her bewitching smile, which Harry loved to dwell upon, when he had returned to his island home, as second only to his matchless sister's, was very like those which she had bestowed upon many an elated gallant.

Natalie had not failed to notice the seeming pleasure with which her brother had listened to Winnie's brilliant conversation, and she had asked herself if it were possible that Winnie could be so heartless as to impress her brother with erroneous views in regard to her sentiments. She would not believe that she had the heart to do it; and yet, through habit, and a perfect thoughtlessness of the consequences, she might be led to do so.

It was evening, and the two sat folded in each other's arms, gazing at an autumn sunset. Winnie was still in her black habiliments, for it was not quite a year since Mrs. Santon had died. Harry had left them the day before, and had bade them both a warm farewell. Winnie had been silent for some moments, when Natalie remarked,—"What new scheme are you planning now, Winnie? you are very thoughtful to-night."

Winnie roused herself, and blushingly replied, "I do not wonder that you note my thoughtful moments, I am such a gay creature; but, dear Natalie, there are times when even I can be serious, though there are few who could credit my words."

"I can believe you, Winnie, for I know you have a good heart; but what can have occurred of sufficient importance to banish those dimples from your cheek? Come, rogue, make me your confidant, or I shall begin to think you are at your old tricks, after all."

"If I did not know your forgiving spirit, I should hesitate to place myself in your power, for fear you might repay me with interest, in making you, and your particular friend Mr. Delwood, the subjects of my merriment."

Natalie looked calmly into her eyes; the truth flashed across her mind at once, and she was about to clasp her in her arms, calling her by the name of sister, when a well-known voice from behind them repeated the name, "Sea-flower," and Mr. Delwood was by her side.

"Where did you learn the name by which I am called in my island home?" asked Natalie.

"Why did you never tell us that you have a name in keeping with your character?" he asked, taking the seat by her side which Winnie, who had retired to hide her blushes, had vacated.

"'Tis the name by which my father loved to call me, and I associate it with his sacred memory," she replied; and a tear, which Delwood looked upon as also sacred, fell upon the hand which clasped her's as with reverential fervency.

"Your brother told me of the name," he replied, "and will you permit me to associate with that name all that is of purity? May I not call you by that name? Can you give one thought to him whose very happiness for life is dependent on you?"

There was a pause, Delwood had never until this night, declared to her his love, in so many measured words, which were but coldness in comparison with the love for her which filled his soul. A year ago would have sealed his doom, but that night witnessed another scene. Death had claimed it for his own. The hand which he held was not withdrawn, neither did a simper mark her reply. With eyes meekly turned upward, she answered in a calm, low voice,—"My dear father is in heaven; if he is looking down, I feel that he will smile upon me, when, with my mother's consent, she shall give me away to you. I have long ago given myself to Christ, and if you recognize him as your Saviour, we will together serve him as dutiful children, praying one for the other that we may not fall."

"I am not like you," he replied; "I can never be as pure as you are; neither am I what the world calls a Christian; but by God's help, I pledge myself to be one of Christ's followers; and of one thing I am confident, I shall never be if I grope my way alone through the world, as I must if I lose you, what I shall be if I have you for a guide!"

"It is enough; you depreciate your own merits," she said, glancing proudly upon him; "go, when I return, and with your own lips ask my mother, if she can find a place in her noblest of women's hearts, for him who is all too worthy of her daughter's love."

He folded her to his heart, and the rich harvest moon had sunk far below the horizon, ere these two kindred spirits had wearied of the glorious night.

Mr. Santon had not felt the utter desolation, after the first overpowering sense of grief had passed, after his wife's death, that he would have felt had he had no one upon whom to have leaned. As it was, his home was not desolate, for he cherished his daughter as the "apple of his eye," and he had come to be like himself again. Happy faces met him as he came in wearied from his duties "on 'change," and he had again assumed his easy, jocose manners. Natalie was still continuing her studies, making unprecedented progress, to the rapturous delight of the Signor; while Winnie enlivened the whole household.

As mistress of the mansion she had new duties to discharge, though they were not so arduous as to deprive her of entertaining the young aspirants to her hand, who if they did not throw themselves at her feet, it was only for the want of an opportunity. And thus was everything going on harmoniously at Santon Mansion, when, to the no little surprise of every one, it was rumored that the wealthy Mr. Santon was about to introduce to his domains a new mistress. No one was more taken by surprise than were Winnie and Natalie. They could hardly credit their senses, when Mr. Santon congratulated his daughter on the prospect of having a new mother.

Poor Winnie! she tried to smile, and she tried to make one of her most brilliant remarks, as she congratulated her father on his happiness; yet it was not like herself, and Natalie could see, what Mr. Santon in his blindness of joy did not discern,—there was no heart in his daughter's mechanical tones. Winnie had not as yet seen her intended mother-in-law; she might be all that could be desired of one standing in that peculiar relation, and she might be otherwise; it was not that which had quelled the buoyant spirits of the heiress, it was that she shrank from the thought of any one so soon filling her own dear mother's station, and she hid her face in Natalie's golden tresses, as her father left the room, and burst into tears.

"Dear, dear Natalie," she exclaimed, "you will think me so wicked! But I wanted no other mother than you! Though you are younger than myself, I have learned to look up to you, as a valuable bequest left me by my mother, who smiled even in death, when you promised never to forget me. We are happy now; why need a stranger come among us? Oh, Natalie, I never can part from you!"

"Hush! hush! dear Winnie, you must not think thus! you may come to love your new mother, filling the most sanguine wishes of your father's heart, who would be wretched, if his daughter were not reconciled to her who will stand in the nearest relation to him."

And thus the Sea-flower endeavored to prepare Winnie's mind for receiving her new mother, who would so soon take her place at the head of this once unbroken family, as became a meek and dutiful child; but she did not tell her of the trembling within her own heart, lest this new tie should prove a source of sorrows, sowing her youthful heart with seed which might be productive of bitter among the sweets; neither did she know of the prayers of the innocent maiden, that hers might be a thornless path.

The lady in question, whom Mr. Santon had deemed worthy of his hand, and its consequent honors, was of a family of lower standing than his own as far as much of this world's goods go to give caste; but if, aside from depth of purse, she was his inferior, we have yet to learn. The marriage ceremonies were attended with little display, in deference to Mr. Santon's wishes, and the day at length arrived, when the bride, who resided in a neighboring city, was to be received in her new home.

She came, and congratulations were exchanged between mother and daughter, first impressions were made, and the hour arrived which should liberate each one to the night's repose. Winnie flew to her room; she had seen her whom she was to call "mother," and from the few hours which she had already passed with her, her superior discernment of character had judged of her aright; she never had cause to vary from the opinion which she had from the first formed of her; she choked back the tears, so strange to see within her eyes, and kneeling, she repeated the very first prayer her mother had ever taught her, an exercise which from the example set before her for the last two years, she now never failed to observe. Arising, she endeavored to dispel the mountain of anguish which was creeping into her soul,—in sleep. Poor Winnie! we can pity you; 'tis but life's lesson taught.

The impression which Natalie had received of the second wife of Mr. Santon's choice, though she would not bring herself to realize it, were by no means prepossessing. She had schooled her own, and Winnie's heart to love her under any circumstances, but when she saw with what frigidity she received Winnie's warm welcome, thinking not of the condescension with which she had taken her own hand, her tender heart was pierced as Winnie looked toward her, as if for strength, and she had returned her look with a smile which could not fail to prove to her a ray of sunshine.

Why is it that it is of so frequent occurrence, that a man who has been blessed with peculiar loveliness of character in a wife, if he be called upon to part with her, finds, alas! too late, in a second partner, an extreme opposite? It was thus in Mr. Santon's experience, as he but too soon was obliged to acknowledge to himself, though he would not that others should have a suspicion of the fact; yet it was evident to his nearest friends that he was not the happy man he once was; the few sprinkles of gray, which had reflected honor upon the raven black of his hair, had increased ere the honey-moon was hardly ended.

Early the next morning after the arrival of Mrs. Santon, Winnie was awakened by an attendant, whose sense of propriety were a question, if placed in a balance with that of her new mistress, which were the weightier. The woman apologized for disturbing "her leddy-ship," but the new mistress would like to see Miss Santon in the drawing-room as soon as possible.

"You can go," was Winnie's reply, "and tell Mrs. Santon that at my convenience, I will see her!" but recalling the servant, with her next thought, she added, "merely say to my mother, that I will soon be with her," and hastily making her toilet, she repaired to the drawing-room.

Mrs. Santon was alone, for it was a full hour before the family's usual time for arising. Winnie bade her mother "good morning," and was about to ask if she had rested well in her new home, when she was interrupted by her, and in an imperative tone she said:—

"This may be earlier than you have been accustomed to 'rising, Miss Santon, but my habits for early rising are proverbial, and of course my household will conform to my wishes in regard to matters which you will at once see are for the best. What I wished to speak with you more particularly about this morning, is in regard to the keys; you will please produce them, as I shall have a thorough overhauling at once, and if I mistake not," said she, glancing at Winnie's neat morning attire, "the sooner the better, for I think those jewelled hands have not troubled themselves much about such things. I wonder that you have not been brought up to something beside killing time!"

"Madam!" vociferated Winnie, her face crimsoned with the insult which she had received, but she paused, though still trembling with rage, her eye had rested on a gentle form, standing within the open door—it was the Sea-flower. With one finger upon her lip, her brow calm as the new day, she gazed upon Winnie, till gaining her eye, unobserved by Mrs. Santon she glided away. Instead of the rage Winnie would have poured forth, she merely said, "I will send you the keys," and left the room. Despatching a servant with the keys, which she had intended to have put into her hands at the earliest opportunity, thereby acknowledging her superior claim at once, she sought Natalie, whom she found seated in the conservatory, enjoying the Indian summer breeze, which stole softly in among the fragrant plants, which were the particular objects of her care. Each knew what was uppermost in the other's mind, but Winnie's heart was too full to speak.

"I have been thinking, Winnie," said the Sea-flower, "how thankful we should be, that we have so many friends to love us. I think I have never realized it until now, and," she spoke in a lower tone, "dear Winnie, should you ever receive other than the kindly treatment to which you have always been accustomed, let it serve to increase your gratitude that you have so many with whom you can trust your affections."

"Yes, Natalie, I will strive to do aright. I will try to do as I think you would have done, but I fear I shall not have your strength. O, it is so hard! if I only had a mother to love me, I could endure anything else!" and her excitable nature getting the better of her, she burst into tears. Natalie threw her arm about her neck, and, her own voice tremulous with the pity which she felt for her, she tried to soothe her spirits; "you shall have a mother! My mother shall be your mother! for are you not to be my sister? and she will love you as did your own gentle mother! but Mrs. Santon will yet become reconciled to you, for when she finds what a good heart you have, she cannot but treat you with kindness."

At this juncture the door opened, and Mrs. Santon brushed rudely in; "welladay! is this your usual morning's occupation? Miss Grosvenor, I think you should have more wisdom than to be petting a spoiled child! I imagine that I shall have as much as I shall care to undertake, to undo the mischief which is already too apparent. It has been as much as I could do for the last two hours, to get things a little in order; but I suppose I need not look for assistance here," she scornfully said, and turned to leave the room. Winnie had it upon her tongue's end to reply, "My father employs his servants to keep his house in order, and they have never failed to give satisfaction," but biting her lip, the thought died away. Natalie arrested Mrs. Santon's steps, saying, "Winnie and myself will consider it a pleasure to assist you, and whatever we can do at any time for your enjoyment, we shall be most happy to do it." The hard-hearted woman quailed a little, at the Sea-flower's proffered assistance, and Natalie accompanied her to the upper drawing-room, wondering much what could have given offence to her ideas of a well-regulated house; for under the housekeeper's scrupulous care, everything was kept in the nicest order. Desiring Natalie to assist her in the disposal of some articles, she directed Winnie to find some out-of-the-way place, and to stow away the rubbish which she would find in the next apartment, pointing to the room which had been her mother's, and which Winnie had not permitted any one to disturb, since her death. Everything had been left just as she had left it, even some withered flowers had not been removed, and the book from which she had read, had been left opened at the place her eye had last looked upon. This room had been kept as a place sacred to Winnie's heart, and indeed the very servants passed it by with a blessing on their departed mistress; and it was now with trembling steps that Winnie, hardly realizing what had been said to her, followed in the direction which the cruel woman had pointed. She opened the door, and sank fainting into a chair! In the middle of the floor were the very clothes which her mother had worn, with other articles thrown together in a pile! her mother's portrait had been removed, and the room was otherwise in disorder. Natalie ran to Winnie's assistance, bathing her temples, and smoothing back her long tresses with tenderness. Just at that moment Mr. Santon entered the room; he looked at his daughter! at the disordered apartment of his buried wife, which he had never held more sacred, and he looked at Mrs. Santon! Without speaking a word he left the room. Poor Winnie! this is indeed life's lesson! but thou art learning to "suffer and be strong."

Had the character of the mother-in-law been in accordance with her exterior, Santon Mansion might still have resounded with joy, for hers was a face by no means forbidding. On the contrary, a stranger would have pronounced her to be decidedly good-looking, considering that she was a woman of nearly fifty years, and those good looks were the secret of Mr. Santon's unfortunate connection with her. From the first, the woman had taken a dislike to Natalie; it seemed as if she was determined to spite her in every way possible. Why she should have felt thus toward her, was certainly unaccountable, as there was no trait more unlovable than innocency, about her character; but this very gentleness of nature, in contrast with the iciness, seldom found in woman's heart, would, as an unavoidable result, serve to widen the two extremes.

The Sea-flower would, as time advanced, have sought refuge in her own home, from this mist of unrest, which had by degrees spread itself around, but when she had spoken of the thing to Mr. Santon, he had grasped her by the hand, as a drowning man would catch at a straw, saying, if she would not entirely sever the golden thread which was once bound around their home circle, she would defer her departure, for at least, a little time; and she had seen the tear, which was as molten lead, welling up from the strong man's heart. Then she said, "It is my duty! I will remain with you! I feel there is something which bids me stay; some mysterious power controlling my destiny."

"May you have your reward!" was Mr. Santon's reply; and we heartily respond, "May she have her reward!"

Never a word did Mrs. Santon receive from the Sea-flower, in return for her ungenerous treatment of her, other than tones of kindness; and Natalie was happy under this new dispensation, for she said within herself,—"I am but bearing a part of the burden which would crush dear Winnie's heart;" and so she sang and played with her usual glad spirit, gliding about the house with simple dignity, with a cheering word for every one, and, as Biddy said,—"she was an escaped ray of light, too bright for the darkness to hide."

As we may foresee, this very light-heartedness of the Sea-flower only served to incite the ire of Mrs. Santon, who saw that every new indignity which she had cast upon her, was returned with more meekness of spirit. If Natalie had resented such conduct, giving "measure for measure," the stern woman could have borne it better; but as it was, it enraged her, that she could not come within her sphere; and, if the truth were known, her senses were not so steeped in the waters of insensibility, but that in her very heart she felt her great superiority over herself.

"I will put her down, yet!" she said to herself, after another return, through the Sea-flower, of "good for evil." "She shall yet feel my power! and why Mr. Santon will persist in her staying with us, is more than I can tell. But that is the way with these men! they will get strange notions into their heads, which nobody can account for; even a wife's wishes are looked upon as of little consequence, in comparison with their lordly commands. I should not be surprised at any time if Santon should withhold a favor from me to lavish upon her! But I'm thinking that he will before long find out what I am made of, if he thwarts my wishes. To be sure, his daughter has become attached to her, but what of that? She must learn that she cannot have every whim gratified; she is a spoiled child at best, and will not be likely to improve under her skim-milk discipline. Leave me alone for managing affairs. I've got the staff in my own hands, and all they can do wont make me anything but the Honorable Mr. Santon's lady! though I'm greatly mistaken if he don't look with evil eyes on the day that made me his bride; but that's not of the slightest consequence, as I used to tell my first husband. Poor fellow! I suppose I was rather hard upon him once in a while; but I knew he was waiting patiently for the day which should separate us. He little thought he would go first," and the woman laughed aloud, as she thought how she had crept into the good graces of her present husband. "Leave me alone for playing my part," she said, as seated in her own apartment, she listened to the voice of Delwood in the drawing-room. "It is evident that her very life is wrapt up in Mr. Delwood, and it is really quite a pity that so fine a fellow should be deceived; and lest she should follow my illustrious example, I might as well interfere in their arrangements; and if I can see aright, she has talked the enviable heiress into the belief that her brother is a very paragon of perfection, for she knows right well that a good bag of money would be no serious objection to his fishermanship. How they ever raised two such likely looking specimens of humanity down there in the land of whales, is a mystery; but they'll find they cannot take the precedence with Boston gentry. If I can avail anything, my particular friend Montague shall try his luck in securing that portion of the heiress's estate which I shall be pleased to leave her."

With these plans matured, she ushered herself into Delwood's presence, and in her blandest manner made him welcome, initiating herself as far as possible into his good opinion, which was no difficult task, inasmuch as he had been accustomed to look upon a character so spotless, that he was not prepared for the detestable machinations of one who was not worthy the name of woman. It had been far from the Sea-flower to breathe a suspicion that there was aught amiss in the character of the flattering mistress of Santon Mansion. Her high esteem for Mr. Santon had not permitted her to speak of the sad change, even to her mother.

"My dear," said Mrs. Santon, turning to Natalie, "in the pleasure which we must ever find in Mr. Delwood's society, you have forgotten your engagement with the destitute family, which you have taken under your especial charge, and poor Mrs. Brown's child is so ill, I fear a few hours' delay in taking the necessary restoratives recommended by our physician, may cause the poor thing to suffer; I would despatch an attendant, but I fear there may be some mistake made, and I know your very presence will impart comfort to the poor woman."

"Oh, no, I had not forgotten them," replied Natalie; "but the physician said any time this afternoon would do, as the little sufferer's disease is about turning, and we must await the result."

"Yes, but I have such an anxiety about them, for in their ignorance they may act contrary to orders, and so be the means of the little fellow's death. It will be a great relief to my mind if you will just step around and look in upon them, as it is but a step, and I know Mr. Delwood will excuse you for a few moments, and I will promise to do my best to supply your absence."

Natalie prepared to depart on this errand of mercy, and Delwood would have taken his hat to accompany her, but Mrs. Santon held him fast by commencing a brisk conversation, from which he could not with politeness take himself away.

"Miss Grosvenor excels in her performance of the latest style, which the Signor has introduced," remarked Mrs. Santon, endeavoring to draw him out, when the Sea-flower had departed.

"I am perfectly amazed at her original rendering of the Italian," replied Delwood, "and I think I can safely say, that among all my sojournings among their people, I have never met with one whose style is more pure than that of Miss Grosvenor's. I should certainly say that she is of Italian birth, though she tells me that she has never crossed the Atlantic."

"She is evidently captivated with their people, or perhaps I may more properly say, with the only person she has ever met of that nation," said Mrs. Santon, with a mysterious manner.

"To what or whom do you refer?" asked Delwood, in an altered tone of voice.

"Mr. Delwood, I feel that it is my duty to inform you of a matter, which has been a source of no little uneasiness, not only to myself, but to every member of my family; and as you have shown a manifest interest in Miss Grosvenor, it is not well that you should remain in ignorance of what so deeply concerns your welfare."

"Speak! what can it be?" asked Delwood, pale with emotion.

"Do not allow yourself to be thus moved, I pray you; but what I have to say is, that three months ago, we gave the Signor notice that we should require his services no longer, as we had reason to believe his visits were becoming something more than mere professional calls, and to our great consternation, we found that Miss Grosvenor was not entirely indifferent to his marked attentions. I was the last to believe that Miss Grosvenor could so lose her self-respect and standing, as to look upon a poor professor, who gains his bread by his own exertions, as a favored competitor for her hand, and, it was not until I saw with my own eyes, that I could credit what I had heard. I was satisfied in time, that his rapt admiration as he gazed upon her, was something more than enthusiasm that she had excelled even his most ardent expectations; and the expression of her beautiful face, as she concluded, might have been the envy of a greater than the Signor. We dismissed the Signor, but he still continued his visits, under the plea that it was his custom to give a few additional lessons at the close of a course, and if he might be allowed, he should consider it a valuable acquisition to his own musical powers, to continue for a time his exercises under Miss Grosvenor's superior talent."

As Mrs. Santon paused, Delwood, in a state of frenzy, exclaimed,—

"It cannot be! I will never believe that she is false to me, even though she should declare to me with her own lips, that another's claims upon her affections were paramount to my own! Excuse me, madam, but I think there must be some dreadful misunderstanding in regard to the facts which you have stated. No! I would scorn myself if I had a doubt of her innocence! and if such a thing might be possible, I would die rather than be forced to believe it! I will tell her this very day what I have heard, but I will not degrade myself, or forfeit her trust, by asking her if it can be so!"

"Be calm, my dear friend," said Mrs. Santon; "compose yourself, I pray you, and take my advice in the matter. Say nothing of what you have heard to any one, but come here to-morrow morning at ten, when the Signor will make his appearance, and from a private window, opening from the conservatory, you may, unknown to any one, witness for yourself the truth of what I have said."

"I will follow your advice, inasmuch as I will reveal to no one what I have heard, until I become like myself," said Delwood, endeavoring to compose himself as he heard the light step of the Sea-flower in the hall; and as she entered, he arose to depart, pleading a slight indisposition as an apology for his abruptness.

The calm, spiritual eyes of Natalie looked out upon him, as he walked rapidly down the street, for she could not but notice an estrangement in his manners; but she did not mistrust that an arrow, poisoned by sin in its vilest form, had been aimed at his heart.

The starry heavens of that night told that another day had gone to be with the past, and innocence laid her head upon her pillow and slept, unmindful of plots of guilt, engendered of sin, which might prove for her a draught of bitterness.

At an early hour the following morning, Clarence Delwood bent his steps towards the residence of Mr. Santon. "Come here to-morrow, and you shall see for yourself,"—those words still sounded in his ears, and, as he drew nearer the house, it seemed as if they grew louder and louder, till his brain was nearly distracted. But would he privately watch her ways, whom of all others in the "wide, wide world," he had looked upon as nearest perfection? No, he would not thus debase himself.

It was at a much earlier hour than that which Mrs. Santon had named, that Delwood presented himself, and handsomely feeing the porter who answered his summons, he asked to see Miss Santon; "and, James," said he, "you need mention my presence to no other member of the family, as my business is strictly private, for Miss Santon's ear alone."

"Yes, sir," replied James, twisting his face info a most knowing wink, as he smiled upon the yellow ore, "I've been there before."

Winnie soon made her appearance with no little astonishment pictured in her countenance, that Mr. Delwood should have honored them with what she termed "a sunrise call;" and that he should have asked for her in particular, was a matter more mysterious. His manners, so unlike himself, served to check at once her flow of spirits, which, in spite of the weight of oppression which had marked the last year, would find vent, if not in a witty remark, in the expression of her speaking countenance was it visible; but she was not slow to discern that some serious subject was upon his mind, and became serious also.

In a few words he informed her of what he had learned from Mrs. Santon the day previous, but what was his astonishment to find her totally ignorant of the circumstances, not hesitating to declare the whole a base falsehood.

"I had not a doubt of the falsity of the report," said Delwood; "but what can have given rise to such a statement? Surely, your mother would not wish to injure my feelings, by repeating what may have originated, without foundation, among the servants, and which she could not have herself credited!"

Winnie saw the truth at once, knowing as she did the character of her, whom, if she had ever looked upon as a mother, must from this moment forfeit every claim upon her feelings, unless it were that of utter contempt.

"Mr. Delwood," said she, raising herself to her full height, her slender fingers clenched together, every nerve 'roused to action,—"if you would not insult me, never again call the woman who has had the heart to cast such a slur upon the character of her whom we know is innocent, my mother! It is not to injure your feelings that she has invented such a vile scheme, but it is by injuring Natalie's character in your eyes, she may banish from her heart all future happiness. Nay, do not start at such a strange declaration from my lips; you are the only person, out of my father's household, who has a suspicion that our happiness is not what it once was; but since it has come to this, I will, at the risk of disclosing to the world what it were wisdom to conceal, establish the innocent; and rest assured that what I say is true,—this originated not among the servants, for there is not one but would kneel and kiss the very ground upon which our dear Sea-flower treads."

Delwood was thunderstruck.

"Indeed, I never could have mistrusted Mrs. Santon's character was so vile!" said he; "but I can sooner believe this than that darkness is born of light. And has Miss Grosvenor suffered the ill-will of this cruel, cruel woman, and never lisped a word but should lead others to respect her? Noble girl that she is! thrice noble have these very evil designings proved her! 'Tis useless for intrigue to cope with purity."

"And she bade you come and see for yourself. What meaning is there in that?" asked Winnie; for surely such an act would go to prove her innocence."

"If Mrs. Santon can stoop to the deed, which fortunately has been disclosed in time to prevent the affair from coming to Miss Grosvenor's knowledge, she would not hesitate to do a meaner thing, favorable to the furtherance of her plans; and it is my opinion there is more to be learned in regard to this matter. I will foil her by following her own advice, and at the appointed hour will station myself as desired, not as a spy upon her ways, but that I may sift this affair to the bottom."

Accordingly, at the hour which Mrs. Santon had mentioned, Mr. Delwood's summons were answered by the mistress of the mansion in person, who smilingly drew him to the conservatory, which overlooked the drawing-room, where he could, unobserved by any one, notice every movement of her whose very being was dearer than his own. Natalie was performing his favorite air, and as he listened, he gradually lost sight of the object of his visit,—engulfed in the ocean of bliss which her impassioned tones had spread before him, when he was recalled to a sense of outward circumstances by the voice of the Signor, who, as the bird-like trill of her voice died away, sprang to his feet, and in a voice hoarse with passion, exclaimed,—"Never!" and was about to leave the house, when Delwood intercepted him in the hall, and taking him by the collar, demanded to know the cause of his strange conduct. The Signor, in his peculiar dialect, replied, "Do not detain me, sir! it were far better that none should ever know of the temptation which well-nigh made me a villain!"

"You do not leave this house, sir, until you disclose to me what may concern my welfare! And do not, I pray you, sir, force me to treat you as other than a gentleman, for if I mistake not, you are yet worthy of respect."

"You do me proud, sir; but I would much prefer to keep my own tongue; for should it come to the ear of madam that her secret is a secret no longer, I fear it may prove an injury to my professional duties."

"Remember that I have said, sir, you do not leave this house until you have given me an account of your strange conduct; but in doing thus, if I find you undeserving of censure, it shall be no sacrifice to your reputation. I will pledge myself that you lose nothing."

"Since you are determined, sir, I will make a clean breast of it," said the Signor, dashing several pieces of gold upon the floor,—"there, sir, is indeed the root of all evil! that gold was placed in my hands by a woman, who would make me a tool for the carrying out of designs, which I have not the heart to perform."

"Well."

"Madam, for some cause, has an under current of thought, which does not appear to be in keeping with the more open sentiments of this family; for that amount of gold she connived with me to express such sentiments toward Miss Grosvenor, as should fire you with a belief of her inconstancy, and an attachment for myself. It was some time before I could be bought with gold, but she, doubling the amount, I at last yielded to what, thank God, I have not had strength to perform. Had it been other than Miss Grosvenor whom I was to injure, I tremble for my weakness in resisting so great a temptation; but she reminds me too strongly of the tear which I have seen in my mother's eye, when she prayed for her baby boy. No, sir, thrice that paltry amount should not tempt me now to such degradation!"

"You have done well, sir," said Delwood, calmly, as he placed double the amount of Mrs. Santon's bribe in the Signor's hand; "you have done well, sir; and mark my words,—gold can never relieve a guilty conscience! Go, sir, and see that you lisp not a syllable of this to any one."

Mr. Delwood was about to take his leave, when he was met by Winnie, who tripped lightly in, fresh from a morning walk. He grasped her hand and pressed it to his lips, saying,—"You have helped to do away with the sinful impressions which did their best to fasten themselves upon me. You will never be forgotten by me, and I know you will do your best to protect her from the wiles of this hard-hearted woman, of whose deeds the world shall through me be none the wiser."

"I should be iron-hearted, did I not strive to make her happy; for it is in pity for my father and his motherless child, that she consents to be separated from her own loved family."

Mrs. Santon had never the impudence to inquire in what way this matter terminated, but she could see that her machinations had been foiled, as day after day brought Mr. Delwood a welcome visitor to the house; yet this defeat did not subdue her bitter feelings towards the Sea-flower; they only slumbered, to break out afresh on the first occasion that might present. Natalie had observed the Signor's abrupt departure; she knew that something must be amiss, and questioning Winnie in the matter, she disclosed to her what never came to the ear of Mr. Santon:

"I forgive her," said the Sea-flower, "and I can pity her; for perhaps she has never had dear friends who might teach her how to love."



CHAPTER X.

THE MADONNA AND CHILD.

"Pure and undimmed, thy angel smile Is mirrored on my dreams, Like evening's sunset girded isle, Upon her shadowed streams; And o'er my thoughts thy vision floats, Like melody of spring-bird notes, When the blue halcyon gently laves His plumage in the flashing waves."

PARK BENJAMIN.

"Please, miss, a letter for you," said the post-boy, handing Natalie a letter, which she was not long in discovering, was from her dear mother.

"I thank you, most heartily," said she, in her low, musical voice, which caused the youthful sprig of Uncle Sam's department to leave incomplete the angle of forty-five degrees, which he had been in the habit of considering as of no little importance in the perfecting of his duties, as he went his daily rounds.

"Zounds!" said he to himself, as he went whistling up the street, "if I don't hope they'll send down another document to her soon!" and his eyes wandered up to the little patch of blue sky which was to be seen between the tops of brick walls.

The Sea-flower perused the letter, and sat, apparently buried in deep thought.

"Why, Natie, darling," exclaimed Winnie, as she came bounding into the room, "what has given you such a wise look this morning? A letter, eh? good news, I trust; far be the day which shall bring to you aught but happiness."

"Thank you, thank you, Winnie, for your good wishes; but I cannot well conceive of any other than pleasure coming from my gentle mother's pen."

Winnie ran her fingers lightly over the keys of the piano, and Natalie did not suspect, as she listened to her sprightly air, that there was a bright tear glistening in her eye at the holy name of—mother.

"But you are unusually thoughtful to-day, Natalie," said Winnie, running her taper fingers through the sunny tresses of her friend, "did I not know it were an impossibility, I should say you had lost your best friend;" and putting her dimpled mouth close to her ear, she whispered some mysterious words so softly,—so very softly, that were we disposed to turn listener, we could only have distinguished that one word,—"Delwood;" but we might have seen the delicate tinge of pink, which, tell-tale like, overspread the face and neck of the Sea-flower. Be that as it may, there was a thoughtful look lingering about those expressive features, which could even be traced, when at night-fall, a well-known step was heard, echoing with no unpleasant sound along the corridor, and a hand, which, though of feminine delicacy, could have been fired with sufficient nerve to have wielded a giant's weapon, at the invader who should come between him and the gentle being, whose hand was not withdrawn as he held it reverently within his own.

"Ah, Miss Sea-flower," said Delwood, as he gazed deep into her eyes, "you are far away among the invisible sprites of ocean to-night, are you? not one thought for us poor unfortunates, who are so ungenial to those translucent ones, as never to have been initiated to their fairy haunts. Really; I must get up a little smile at your expense, for you could not better please an artist, in the composing of your features, if you were sitting for your picture. By the way, have you seen the famous Madonna, whose great beauty is the theme of all conversation? I am told it is a master-piece, by some gentleman who appears not anxious that his brilliant artistical powers shall be published, as his name never accompanies his works, and the piece in question was but by accident, brought to public view. It hangs, among others, in his fine gallery of paintings, and is hung with a heavy drapery of black, which was by chance removed by a gentleman, a friend of mine, who offered a handsome fortune at once for the prize; but his rich offer was declined by the owner, who, to the gentleman's earnest desire that he might become its possessor, replied,—'sir, that bit of inanimate canvas is all upon which my weary life feeds! were you to offer me the wealth of the world, I would not part with that one small picture! neither can I be wrought upon to produce a copy of the same, without violating feelings which are sacred.' Whether this is a fancy piece, or if it bears the semblance of some one of his kindred, my friend did not inform me, as he said his very tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, as the sad artist spoke those few deep-toned words. I have not myself seen this wonder, and whether I might be thus warm in my praises is a question, as you know I am insensible to female beauty, if I may judge by remarks which from time to time have come to my ear, in past years, from estimable mothers, whose beautiful daughters ought to have called forth my glowing sentiments; 'but that which is wanting cannot be numbered,'" said he, stealing an arch glance at Natalie.

"I have not seen this painting," replied Natalie, her countenance lighting up with a new thought, "but I have several times visited the artist's rooms, though I have never been so fortunate as to get sight of the mysterious connoisseur. Those who have met him, describe him as being a middle-aged gentleman, of foreign birth, very marked in his polite, graceful manners; yet there appears to be a great mystery hanging about him, and some have ventured to remark that his is no common history, that he is not merely what he pretends,—an obscure artist! there is that about his bearing which denotes high birth. I have admired his talent displayed, and must see this remarkable production; for you know I am a great admirer of female beauty."

That night, Natalie mused over the events of the day,—the contents of the letter which she had received, were first in her mind. Her mother had expressed an earnest desire to see her child once more; among other things, she had briefly made mention of a matter in regard to their pecuniary affairs,—quite a little sum of the comfortable fortune which Capt. Grosvenor had, by dint of the many perils at sea, accumulated, had been lost in a recent bank failure;—a failure, as Mrs. Grosvenor stated, which had proved a source of poverty to many a family, upon their little island; many a widow had been obliged to part with the last dollar, which had been earned by the seafaring husband, who had never returned to share the benefit of his labors; Their whole community had been more or less affected by this failure. As to Mrs. Grosvenor's own loss, she had said it was not heavy, or, at least, she had spoken of it as not resting heavily upon her spirits; why then should the Sea-flower's thoughts dwell thus upon the matter?—she still mused—"I fear this may have been a heavier loss, than the gentle words, so characteristic of my mother's tenderness for me, may imply! she would not, if it were in her power to prevent, have me feel that I must curtail my expenses in the least, and I know that my necessary expenses here, must be a great tax upon her income; to be sure Harry has often said, that our dear mother shall never know what it is to want; but for all that, I feel that I might do something to repay my mother for all that she has done for me. Yes! it is my duty! and it certainly would be a duty of pleasure, if I could do anything to assist her." This it was, which had caused the thoughtful expression of the Sea-flower; this which had called forth the ever ready wit of Miss Winnie—had detained Delwood's gaze! But what would be the sentiment of uppertendom, when it should be rumored that the beautiful young creature, of the proud Clarence Delwood's choice, had stooped so low, as to maintain herself by her own hands? How would Mr. Delwood himself receive such an announcement? such thoughts did not occur to the mind of the noble hearted girl; her every thought and act were of good, and she did not for once think, that there were those, who could sneer at good motives. Ah! Natalie, this is a cold, unfeeling world, at best! as experience of long years doth confirm. Thy little day hath not yet taught thee, that the world is born of sin, for thou only lookest on the human face as divine. How Natalie was to render assistance to her mother, by relieving her of any incumbrance, of which she, herself, might be the cause, had not yet been matured, until Delwood had spoken of the popular picture-gallery, of the unknown artist; when as we have said, her face was lit up with a new thought. "I will seek this gentleman, and it may be that he can be induced to bring out the dormant powers, which I am persuaded are in existence; for my love for his department of the fine arts, knows no bounds! To-morrow I will visit him. This veil of mystery would seem a barrier, yet perhaps it is of sadness, and I can conceive that such are of the tender hearted,—alive to another's wants."

"Want!" she repeated aloud; it sounded strangely upon her ear; and indeed, we cannot couple the thought with such as she! Can such fair ones of earth, meet with the chilling breath of adversity? Yes, we may meet with them in our wanderings! Let us deal with them tenderly; for it may be one of heaven's sensitive flowers. Stranger still would that word have sounded to Mrs. Grosvenor and her son, in connection with their Sea-flower, yet it was remotest from their minds, that such thoughts would find their way to her heart. Mrs. Grosvenor's circumstances were indeed more embarrassed than she had expressed to Natalie, yet she had sufficient left, wherewith they might by retrenching a little, live very comfortably. Accordingly, that Natalie might not feel this change, she had dismissed her only servant (if we may do honor to old Vingo, by dubbing him with a more elevated appellation), making some other restrictions in her domestic affairs, for the sake of the child, whom she knew was not her own by kindred, doing away with what she persuaded herself were but unnecessary indulgences. Faithful mother! thou wilt have thy reward.

Natalie arose the next morning, refreshed by the sweet repose which innocence only knows, and although the day was ushered in with clouds, and an occasional rain-drop, she proceeded to put into execution the plans of yesterday; she had made no one a confidant of her designs, not even Winnie; and when that little lady met her in the hall, all armed and equipped as the weather directed, she exclaimed,—"where now? Miss Snow-wreath! are you going to temper your indissolvable charms to an April shower? or is it to hunt up some poor little refugee; who is so unfortunate as to be minus an umbrella, that you are so bereft of your senses, as to venture out, afoot and alone, this disagreeable morning?"

"Neither the one, nor yet the other, my fair sister," joyously replied the Sea-flower, and she tripped down the steps, smiling upon the little frightened rain-drops, which fell lightly upon her, from the skies, not offering to treat them with such indecorum, as the spreading of her umbrella, and, when Winnie called to her to come back, or if she would venture forth, to take the carriage, she was far out of hearing. Arrived at her point of destination, Natalie was so lost in admiration of the noble illustrations of the infinite mind of man, that she had lost sight of her object, in visiting the unknown artist, until she was awakened from her revery, by a voice near her, and looking 'round, she discovered a poor, dejected looking old negro woman, kneeling with her hands clasped together, and her eyes fixed upon—Natalie followed in the direction—it must be the beautiful Madonna! of which she had heard. Involuntarily she assumed the position of the negress! What visions filled her soul! flitting to and fro. The past, the present, and the future rushed in mingled indistinctness through her mind! and over the chaos there floated a calm, which gradually took the form of recollections which now caused her heart to beat loudly with the uncertainty, fraught with reality. That night! came fresh again to her memory, when she had overheard her brother's words,—"she is not my sister by birth!" The same holy passions filled her soul, and she gazed upon that face, the semblance of which, she had many a time, ere now, looked upon in dreams! might they not have been waking dreams?

"God grant dat such as she, neber know what it am to be torn from her childer!" groaned the black woman, with a deep-drawn sigh.