CHAPTER VI.

— The boy is grown
So like your brother that he seems his own.
—Crabbe.

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

Difference of political opinion had produced no
estrangement between Mr. Hugh Trevor and his
brother, though it had interrupted their intercouse by
rendering it less agreeable. Men cannot take much
pleasure in each other's society, when the subject on
which both think and feel most deeply, is one on
which they widely differ. They accordingly saw little
of each other, though an occasional letter passed
between them in token of unabated affection.

I believe I have mentioned that the children of Mr.
Bernard Trevor were both daughters. The eldest,
then seventeen years of age, had been invited to
spend with her uncle, in the vicinity of Richmond,
the winter of Douglas's furlough. He was at that
time about five-and-twenty. His long residence in
the North had not weaned him from his native State.
He had not been flattered into a contempt of every
thing Virginian. Neither his age nor rank gave him
consequence enough to be the object of that sort of
attention. Perhaps, too, it had been seen that he was

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

a less fit subject for it than his elder brother. Though
much the younger, he had a range, originality, and
independence of thought, of which the other was incapable.
Resting in the esteem of his friends and
the approbation of his own conscience, the applause
of the multitude, the flattery of sycophants, and the
seducing attentions of superiors, had small charms for
him. His heart had never ceased to glow at the name
of Virginia, and he returned to her as the wanderer
should return to the bosom of his home—to his
friends—to his native land. In appearance, manners,
and intelligence, he was much improved; in feeling,
the same warm-hearted, generous, unsophisticated
youth, as formerly.

In the meantime, his cousin Delia had already
reached his father's house, and was domesticated in
the family. There she found the younger brothers
and sisters of Douglas impatiently expecting his arrival;
and so much occupied with the thought of him,
that, had she been of a jealous disposition, she
might have deemed her welcome somewhat careless.
But she already knew her cousins, her uncle, and her
aunt. This was not the first time that their house was
her temporary home; and she had learned to consider
herself as one of the family. As such, she was expected
to enter into all their feelings. Douglas was
their common favorite. During his long absence, his
heart had never cooled toward them. In this he differed
widely from Owen, in whom the pleasures of

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

an idle life and the schemes of ambition had left little
thought of the simple joys of his childhood's
home. The contrast between him and Douglas, in
this respect, rendered the latter yet more popular with
the single-hearted beings who were impatiently
waiting his return.

“Do you remember brother Douglas?” said Virginia
Trevor, (a girl one year younger than Delia.)
“Mamma says you were a great pet with him, when
a child, and used to call him your Douglas.”

“I could not have been more than three years old
at the time you speak of,” said Delia; “but I have
heard of it so often, that I seem to myself to remember
him. But, of course, I do not remember him.”

“And, of course, he does not remember you,”
said Mrs. Trevor. “At least he would not know
you. But I doubt if he ever has forgotten you, as
you were then. He was to be your husband, you
know; and your father gave him a set of rules to
walk by. He was to do so and so, and to be so and
so; and Harry Sanford was to be his model. He said
nothing about it; but “Sanford and Merton” was
hardly ever out of his hands, and we could see that
he was always trying to square his conduct by
your father's maxims. I believe in my heart it made
a difference in the boy; and that is the reason why
he is less like his own father, and more like yours,
than any of the rest of my boys.”

“I shall certainly love him, then,” said Delia; her

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

eyes filling as she spoke, “if he is like my dear old
father.”

“Indeed, and you may,” said Mrs. Trevor; “but,
for all that, I would rather have him like his own father.
But you must not be affronted, Delia; you
know I claim the right to brag about my old man,
and to set him up over every body—even the President
himself.”

“I never saw the President,” said Delia, “but I
should be sorry to compare my father with him.”

“I can assure you,” replied the aunt, “there are
very few men that would bear the comparison. O!
he is the most elegant, agreeable old gentleman, that
ever I saw.”

“Except my uncle,” said Delia, smiling.

“Pshaw! Yes, to be sure. I always except
him.”

“I will not except my father,” said Delia, gravely.
“I should not like to hear him and Martin Van
Buren praised in the same breath.”

“Well, my dear,” said the good-humored old
lady, “we must not quarrel about it. But you must
take care not to talk so before Douglas, because he is
the President's soldier.”

“I thought,” said Delia, “he was in the service
of the United States.”

“Well! and is not that all the same thing? I do
not pretend to know any thing about it, but my husband
says so, and that is enough for me.”

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

Mr. Trevor, who had sat by the while, listening,
with grave complacency, now said: “I am afraid you
don't report me truly, my dear.” Then, extending
his hand to Delia, he drew her gently to him, and
placing her on his knee, kissed her. “You are a good
girl,” said he, “and shall love and honor your father
as much as you please. He is a noble, generous
man, and a wise man too. I would to God,” added
he, sighing heavily, “that I had had half his wisdom.”

“Why, bless my soul, Mr. Trevor!” exclaimed his
wife, “what does this mean?”

“Nothing,” replied he, “but a just compliment
to the self-renouncing generosity and far-sighted sagacity
of my brother.”

Saying this, he rose and left the room, while his
wife gazed after him in amazement. She had never
heard him say so much before, and now perceived that
he had thoughts that she was not apprised of. Believing
him faultless and incapable of error, even when
he differed from himself, she at once concluded that
she had lost her cue, and determined to say no more
about politics until she recovered it. But he never
adverted to the subject again, in her presence, during
the whole winter; and her niece, consequently, heard
no farther allusion to it from her.

This was no unwelcome relief to Delia. She was
no politician; but she was not incapable of understanding
what passed in her presence on the subject, except
when the interlocutors chose to mystify their meaning.

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

Her father, a man of no reserves, never spoke but with
a purpose of expressing his thoughts clearly and fully;
and no man better knew how to express them than
he. Though deficient, as I have said, in that cold
prudence which takes advantage of circumstances,
he was eminently gifted with that more vigorous faculty
which makes them. In the piping times of
peace, he was a man of no mark. But when society
was breaking up from its foundations, he was the
man with whom the timid and doubting would seek
safety and counsel. Infirmity had now overtaken
him, and he could do little more than think and
speak. Consulted by all the bold spirits who sought
to lift up, from the dust, the soiled and tattered banner
of his native State, and spread it to the wind, he
never failed to converse freely with such, and often
in the presence of his daughters.

By this means, if he had not imbued them with his
opinions, or charged their minds with the arguments
by which he was accustomed to support them, he had
made them full partakers of his feelings. It seemed,
indeed, as if he had a purpose in this. What
that purpose was, time would show. One end,
at least, it answered. It increased their opinion of
his powers, their confidence in his wisdom, and their
love for his person. Mrs. Hugh Trevor herself did
not hold her husband's wisdom in more reverence
than was cherished by Delia for that of her father.

And never did man better deserve the confiding

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

affection of a daughter. He had been her principal
instructor from infancy. He had formed her mind;
he had trained her to self-command, and taught her
to find her happiness in virtue. Educated at home,
her manners were formed in a domestic circle—characterized
by refinement, and delicate, but frank propriety.
Her love of reading had been cultivated by
throwing books in her way; and, the taste once
formed, her attention had been directed to such as
might best qualify her for the duties of woman's only
appropriate station. Herein she had an example in
her mother; a lady of the old school, courteous and
gentle, but high-spirited, generous, and full of her
husband's enthusiasm in the cause of his country.
Mr. Bernard Trevor was, indeed, a man to be loved
passionately, if loved at all; and to shed the vivid
hue of his mind on those of his associates. It was
the delight of his wife to , and to cherish, the
dutiful affection and ardent admiration of her daughters
for their father. The consequence was, that his
power over their thoughts, feelings, and inclinations
was unbounded.

It will be readily believed, that, in the mind of
Delia Trevor, thus pre-occupied, there was no room
for any very favorable predispositions toward a young
man, trained from his boyhood in the service of her
country's oppressors. She had heard his mother
speak of him as the sworn soldier of the arch-enemy
of her beloved Virginia; and a sentiment of

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

abhorrence arose in her mind at the words. But she reflected
that he was her cousin; the son of her good
uncle; the brother of her dearest friend; and, trying
to remember his fondness for her when a child, she
chided down the feeling of disgust, as unnatural and
wicked. But, after all this discipline of her own
mind, she found it impossible to think of him with
complacency, or to anticipate his arrival with pleasure.
Her imagination always painted him in the
hateful dress, which she had been taught to regard as
the badge of slavery—the livery of a tyrant. She
would try to love him, as a kinsman, but she never
could like him or respect him.

At length he made his appearance, and, to her great
relief, in the plain attire of a citizen. He was a
handsome youth, whose native grace had been improved
by his military education, and in his manners
uniting the frankness of a boy with the polish and
elegance of an accomplished gentleman. Whether
he had been admonished by his father to respect the
feelings of his fair cousin, or had caught his reserve,
on the subject of politics, by contagion, she had no
means of knowing. Certain it is, that, on that subject,
he was uniformly silent, and Delia soon learned
to converse with him on other topics, without dreading
an allusion to that. She thus saw him as he was,
and, by degrees, lost the prejudice which, for a time,
blinded her to any merit he might possess.

And he did possess great merit. A high sense of

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

honor, strict principles, great openness, and generosity,
were united in him with talents of no common
order. Quick, apprehensive, and clear in his perceptions,
there was a boldness, vividness, and distinctness
in his thoughts and language, that continually
reminded her of him she most loved and honored.
Of her father he frequently spoke with great veneration
and affection. He remembered, as his mother
had conjectured, many of his uncle's precepts. He
frequently quoted them as of high authority with
him; and it was plain to see, that, cherished during
fourteen years, they had exercised a decided influence
in the formation of his character. Indeed, it
might be doubted whether his imagination had ever
dismissed the idea, which had first disposed him to
lend a willing ear to the suggestions of his uncle.
That which was sport to the elder members of the
family, had seemed to him, at the time, a serious business.
The thought that the little girl, who loved to
hang on his neck and kiss him, might one day be his
wife, had certainly taken possession of his boyish
mind. How long he had consciously retained it
could not be known; but the traces of it were still
there, and were certainly not obliterated by the
change which time had wrought in his cousin.

Of her personal appearance I have said nothing.
Were I writing a novel, I should be bound, by all
precedent, to give an exact account of Delia's whole
exterior. Her person, her countenance, her hair, her

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

eyes, her complexion, should all be described, and
the whole summed up in a tout ensemble of surpassing
beauty. But, in this true history, I am unfortunately
bound down by facts, and I lament, that to the best
of my recollection, I shall not have occasion to speak
of a single female, in the progress of my narrative,
whose beauty can be made a theme of just praise. I
do sincerely lament this; for such is the constitution
of human nature, that female beauty influences the
heart and mind of man, even by report. We read, in
Oriental tales, of great princes deeply enamored of
descriptions. The grey eyes of Queen Elizabeth
have always made her unpopular with the youthful
reader; and the beauty of Mary of Scotland, three
hundred years after the worms have eaten her, still
continues to gild her history and gloss over her
crimes. I can say nothing so much in favor of the
beauty of Delia Trevor, as that she was good and intelligent,
reminding the reader of the sage adage of
Mrs. Dorothy Primrose, to wit: “Handsome is, that
handsome does.” I can only add, that, when I saw
her afterwards hanging on the arm of Douglas, and
looking up in his face with all the deep and heartfelt
devotion of a woman's love, I saw enough of the
constituents of beauty to make her an object of love,
and enough of the soul of truth and tenderness to
make her seem transcendently beautiful in the eyes of
a lover.

I say this, to account for the fact that her cousin

[figure description] Page 063.[end figure description]

Douglas soon found himself taking great pleasure in
her society, and anxious to please her, not more from
duty than inclination. He was, perhaps, chiefly attracted
by her conversation, which was always cheerful,
sprightly, and intelligent. He may have yielded
to a spell of hardly less magic than that of beauty;
the spell of a voice melodious, distinct, articulate,
and richly flexible, varying its tones unconsciously
with every change and grade of thought or feeling.
It may have been the effect of what Byron would
call “blind contact,” and, the sage Mrs. Broadhurst
“propinquity;” or it may have been that his hour
was come. If one in ten of my married friends can
tell exactly how he came to fall in love with his wife,
I shall hold myself bound to inquire farther into this
matter.

But I do not mean to intimate that Lieutenant
Trevor, turning his back on the belles of Boston and
New York, and Philadelphia, and Baltimore, and
Washington, came home, and tumbled forthwith into
love with a plain country girl, just because she was
his cousin, and he had loved her when a child. I
do not mean to say he was in love with her at all.
He had a sincere affection for her; he liked her conversation;
he admired her talents much, and her virtues
more. He liked very much to be with her, and
he was very much with her.

What came of this, the reader shall be told
when we have disposed of some matters of higher
concernment.

CHAPTER VII.

Nero fiddled while Rome was burning.

[figure description] Page 064.[end figure description]

Douglas Trevor reached his father's house just
after the Virginia Legislature had assembled. The
presidential election was just over, and the partisans
of Van Buren, exulting in their success, made their
leader the more hateful to his opponents by the insolence
of their triumph. Though he had lost the vote
of Virginia, it will be remembered that he still commanded
a majority in the Legislature, elected before
the revolution in public sentiment was complete.
The more recent expression of public sentiment
showed that the time was come when power must
be held by means far different from those by which
it had been acquired. Opinion, which at first had
been in their favor, was now against them. Corruption
had for a time supplied the place; but the
fund of corruption was all insufficient to buy off the
important interests which were now roused to defend
themselves. To add to its efficiency by all practicable
means, and to bring to its aid the arm of force,
was all that remained.

To organize measures for this purpose, and to enrich
themselves from the profuse disbursement of

[figure description] Page 065.[end figure description]

public money, which formed a part of the plan of
operations, were the great objects which engaged the
minds of the majority in the Virginia Legislature.
But these, important as they were, could not entirely
wean them from those indulgences which, for many
years, had made Richmond, during the winter season,
the scene of so much revel and debauchery. To
these, as well as to personal intrigues and the
great interests of the faction, much time was given.
But the necessity of attending especially to the latter
was made daily more apparent by the startling intelligence
which every mail brought from the South
and Southwest. The nearly simultaneous secession
of the States in that quarter, and the measures to be
taken for the formation of a southern confederacy,
were things which had been talked of until they
were no longer dreaded. But causes had gradually
wrought their necessary effects, and the ultimate co-operation
of Virginia, if left to act freely, was now
sure.

I have already spoken of those men, in each of the
southern States, of cool heads, long views, and stout
hearts, who, watching the progress of events, had
clearly seen the point to which they tended. It is
not here that their names and deeds are to be registered.
They are already recorded in history, and
blazoned on the tomb of that hateful tyranny which
they overthrew. They had been discarded from the
service of the people, so long as the popularity of the

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

President had blinded the multitude to his usurpations.
The oppressions of the northern faction, and
the fierce assaults of rapacity and fanaticism, hounded
on by ambition to the destruction of the South, had
restored them to public favor. They had seen that
secession must come, and that, come when it might,
their influence would be proportioned to their past
disgraces. Presuming on this, they had consulted
much together. Not only had they sketched provisionally
the plan of a southern confederacy, but
they had taken measures to regulate their relations
with foreign powers. One of their number, travelling
abroad, had been instructed to prepare the way for
the negotiation of a commercial treaty with Great
Britain. One of the first acts of the new confederacy
was to invest him publicly with the diplomatic
character, and it was at once understood that commercial
arrangements would be made, the value of
which would secure to the infant League all the advantages
of an alliance with that powerful nation.
The designation of a gentleman, as minister, who
had so long, without any ostensible motive, resided
near the Court of St. James, left no doubt that all
things had been already arranged. The treaty soon
after promulgated, therefore, surprised nobody, except
indeed that some of its details were too obviously
beneficial to both parties to have been expected.
Not only in war, but in peace, do nations seem to
think it less important to do good to themselves than

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

to do harm to each other. The system of free trade
now established, which has restored to the South the
full benefit of its natural advantages, and made it
once more the most flourishing and prosperous country
on earth; which has multiplied the manufactories
of Great Britain, and increased her revenue by an
increase of consumption and resources, even while
some branches of revenue were cut off; and which,
at the same time, has broken the power of her envious
rival in the North, and put an end for ever to that
artificial prosperity engendered by the oppression and
plunder of the southern States; is such an anomaly
in modern diplomacy, that the rulers at Richmond, or
even at Washington, might well have been surprised
at it. But the bare nomination of the plenipotentiary
was enough to leave no doubt that a treaty was ready
for promulgation, and that its terms must be such
as to secure the co-operation of Great Britain.

But, while the leaders of the ruling faction thought
of these things, and anxiously consulted for the preservation
of their power, there was still found among
the members of the Legislature the ordinary proportion
of men who think of nothing but the enjoyment
of the present moment. Such men are often like
sailors in a storm, who, becoming desperate, break
into the spirit room, and drink the more eagerly because
they drink for the last time. When the devil's
“time is short, he has great wrath;” and this point
in his character he always displays, whether he

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

exhibits himself in the form of cruelty, rapacity, or debauchery.

The amusements, therefore, of the legislators assembled
at Richmond suffered little interruption, and the
dinner and the galas, the ball and the theatre, and
the gaming-table, with revel, dissipation, and extravagance,
consumed the time of the servants of the
country, and swallowed up the wasted plunder of the
treasury.

Respected by all, beloved by individuals of both
parties, and courted by that to which he was supposed
to belong, Mr. Hugh Trevor was an object of
the most flattering attention. His house was the
favorite resort of such as enjoyed the envied privilege
of the . His gallant and accomplished son was
the glass before which aspirants for court favor
dressed themselves. The budding youth of his daughter
had, for years, been watched with impatient anticipation
of the time when her hand might be seized as
the passport to present wealth and future honor.

Her Delia was not recommended to notice
by all these considerations; but the most prevailing
of the whole was one that made her claims to
attention fully equal to those of Virginia. Her father,
though in comparatively humble circumstances,
could give with his daughter a handsomer dowry
than the elder and wealthier brother could afford with
his. He was notorious for generosity, and his infirmities
made it probable that he was not long for this

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

world. Delia was therefore universally regarded as
an heiress. Add to this, that in the affection of her
uncle she seemed hardly to be postponed to his own
daughter, and it was obvious to anticipate that the
same influence which had procured office and emolument
for himself and his sons, would be readily exerted
in favor of her future husband.

It followed, that, whatever were the amusements of
the day, whether ball or theatre, or party of pleasure
by land or by water, the presence of Delia and Virginia
was eagerly sought. The latter, simple and
artless, saw in all who approached her the friends
of her father. If she thought at all of political differences,
it was only to recognize in most of them the
adherents of the man to whose fortunes he had so long
attached himself, and in whose fortunes he had flourished.
To all, her welcome was alike cordial and
her smile always bright.

With Delia, the case was far different. Much
more conversant than her cousin with the politics of
the day, she was aware that her father was obnoxious
to many that she met. On some of those who sought
her favor, she knew that he looked with detestation
and scorn. To such she was as cold and repulsive
as a real lady can ever permit herself to be to one
who approaches her as a gentleman in genteel society.
The height of the modern mode would, indeed, have
countenanced in such cases that sort of negative insolence,
the practice of which is regarded as the most

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

decisive indication of high breeding. But she had
been trained in a different school. She had been
taught that, in society, self-respect is the first duty
of woman; and that the only inviolable safe-guard
for that, is a care never to offend the self-respect of
others.

Thus, while a part of those who approached her,
were made to feel that their attentions were not acceptable,
she never afforded them occasion to complain
of any want of courtesy on her part. Without
being rebuffed, they felt themselves constrained to
stand aloof. There was nothing of which they could
complain; no pretext for resentment—no opening for
sarcasm—no material for scandal.

But in proportion to the impotence of malice, so is
the malignity of its hoarded venom. All were aware
of the political opinions and connexions of Mr. Bernard
Trevor; and it was easy to make remarks in
the presence of his daughter, not only offensive, but
painful to her feelings. To this purpose, no allusion
to him was necessary. It was enough to speak injuriously
of those whom she knew to be his friends,
and whose public characters made them legitimate
subjects of applause or censure. By this, and other
means of the like character, she was always open to
annoyance; and to such means the dastard insolence
of those whom her coldness had repelled, habitually
resorted for revenge. On such occasions she frequently
found that her cousin Douglas came to her

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

aid. Unrestrained by the considerations that imposed
silence on her, he was always ready to speak on behalf
of the party attacked. If he could not directly
vindicate, he would palliate or excuse. If even
this were inconsistent with his own opinions, he
would take occasion to speak approvingly of the
talents or private worth of those who were assailed.
Whether she regarded this as a proof of good breeding,
or of kindness to herself, or of an incipient change
in his opinions, such conduct always commanded her
gratitude and approbation.

CHAPTER VIII.

He was, in logic, a great critic,
Profoundly skilled in analytic.
He could distinguish and divide
A hair, 'twixt south and southwest side.
Hudibras.

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

Among those who had thus manifested a disposition
to win the favor of Delia Trevor, was a young
man who had, not long since, entered public life under
the auspices of a father, who, fifteen years before,
had openly bartered his principles for office. Besides
some talent, the son possessed the yet higher merit,
in the eyes of his superiors, of devotion to his party
and its leader. He never permitted himself to be restrained,
by any regard to time or place, from making
his zeal conspicuous. Taught, from his infancy, that
the true way to recommend his pretensiens was to
rate them highly himself, he seemed determined never
to exchange his place in the Legislature for any in the
gift of the Court, unless some distinguished station
should be offered to his acceptance. For any such, in
any department, he was understood to be a candidate.

At first, he supposed that a private intimation to
this effect, through his father, would be all sufficient.
But he was overlooked, and post after post, that he

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

would gladly have accepted, was conferred on others.
Fearful that he might be deemed deficient in zeal, he
redoubled his diligence, and with increased eagerness
sought every opportunity to display his talents and
his ardor in the service of his master. Still he seemed
no nearer to his object. Whether it was thought
that he was most serviceable in his actual station, or
that the wily President deemed it a needless waste
of patronage to buy what was his by hereditary title
and gratuitous devotion, it is hard to say. The
gentleman sometimes seemed on the point of becoming
malcontent; but his father, who had trained
him in the school of Sir Pertinax McSycophant,
convinced him that more was to be got by “booing,”
and resolute subserviency and flattery of the great,
than in any other way. Under such impressions, he
would kindle anew the fervor of his zeal and send
up his incense in clouds. Again disappointed, and
sickening into the moroseness of hope deferred, he
would become moody and reserved, as if watching
for an opportunity of profitable defection.

Such an opportunity, at such a moment, had seemed
to present itself in his acquaintance with Delin
Trevor. A connection with her seemed exactly suited
to his interested and ambidextrous policy. A handsome
and amiable girl were items in the account of
secondary consideration. But her fortune was not to
be overlooked. Then, should his services, at length,
seem like to meet their long deserved reward, she

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

could be presented at court as the niece of Mr. Hugh
Trevor, the tried and cherished friend of the President.
Should the cold ingratitude of his superiors at length
drive him into the opposition for advancement, he
was sure of being well received as the son-in-law of
a patriot so devoted as Mr. Bernard Trevor. Utrinque
paratus, could he secure the hand of Delia, he felt
sure that he must win, let the cards fall as they
might.

Having taken this view of the subject, and examined
it in all its bearings, he made up to Delia
with a directness which startled, and a confidence that
offended her. But the gentleman had little to recommend
him to the favor of the fair. His person was
awkward, and disfigured by a mortal stoop. His features,
at once diminutive and irregular, were either
shrouded with an expression of solemn importance,
or set off by a smile of yet more offensive self-complacency.
His manners bore the same general character
of conceit, alternately pert and grave; and his
conversation wavered between resolute, though abortive,
attempts at wit, and a sort of chopt logic,
elaborately employed in proving, by incontestible arguments,
what nobody ever pretended to deny. He
had been taught, by his learned and astute father, to
lay his foundations so deep that his arguments and
the patience of his hearers were apt to be exhausted
by the time he got back to the surface of things.
Yet he reasoned with great precision, and rarely

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

failed to establish, as unquestionable, the premises
from which other men commonly begin to reason.

This talent, and this use of it, are more applauded
by the world than one would think. Men like to be
confirmed in their opinions; and, the fewer and more
simple these may be, the more grateful are they for
any thing that looks like a demonstration of their
truth. To a man whose knowledge of arithmetic
only extends to the profound maxim “that two and
two make four,” how gratifying to find a distinguished
man condescending to prove it by elaborate
argument!

But ladies have little taste for these things, and
still less for the harsh dogmatism and fierce denunciations
of hostile, but absent politicians, with which
Mr. P. Baker, the younger, occasionally varied his
discourse. To Delia, therefore, the gentleman, in
and of himself, and apart from all extrinsic considerations,
was absolutely disagreeable. His first advances
drove her within the safe defences of female
pride and reserve. But when the manifest audacity
of his pretensions led her to think of him as the supple
slave of power, as one who had prostituted himself
to the service of his master, with an eagerness
which condemned his zeal to be its own reward, her
disgust increased to loathing, and her pride was
kindled into resentment. Without showing more of
these feelings than became her, she showed enough
to make her the object of his insolent and malignant

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

hatred. But she was fortified by her position in a
family which he dared not offend, and his paltry
malice found vent in such allusions to the politics of
the day as he knew must wound her.

Things were about coming to this pass, when
Douglas Trevor arrived. The first time he met Mr.
Baker in company with his cousin, he saw a disposition
on his part to pay attentions which were obviously
annoying to her. Both duty and inclination
impelled him to come to her relief; and, in doing
this, he awakened the jealousy and incurred the displeasure
of the gentleman. But these were feelings
he had no mind to display toward one who wore a
sword, and especially toward the son of a man so influential
at Washington as Mr. Hugh Trevor. He
accordingly drew off, in morose discomfiture, and
Delia, relieved from his offensive attentions, felt that
she owed her deliverance to her cousin. He was, of
course, bound to occupy the place at her side from
which he had driven Baker; and she was bound to
requite the service by making the duty he had imposed
on himself as little irksome as possible. She
exerted herself to be agreeable, and succeeded so
well, that Douglas went to bed that night in the
firm belief that he had never passed a more pleasant
evening, or seen a girl of more charming manners
than Delia.

This circumstance led to a sort of tacit convention,
which established him in the character of her

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

special attendant, in all parties where Mr. Baker
made his appearance. By an easy progress, this
engagement was extended to all societies and all
places. He knows little of human nature who needs
to be told the natural consequences of these things.

But, leaving the reader to form his own judgment,
and to anticipate such result as he may, my present
business is with the repulsed and irritated Baker.
Though it consoled his pride and self-love to impute
his discomfitures, not to any absolute dislike of himself,
but to a preference for another, there was nothing
in that preference to soothe his resentment. As
Douglas had, in the first instance, come somewhat
cavalierly between him and the object of his wishes,
he, perhaps, had reasonable grounds of displeasure
against him. But, as it might be quite inconvenient
to give vent to his feelings in that direction, they were
carefully repressed. In such assaults on those of the
lady, as her cousin might not observe, or might
think it unwise to notice, did his malice indulge
itself.

So matters stood when the astounding intelligence
reached Richmond, that a diplomatic agent from the
State of South Carolina had been long secretly entertained
at the Court of St. James, and that he was
supposed to have negotiated an informal arrangement
for a commercial treaty between that government
and the confederacy then forming in the South.
Something was rumored as to the terms of the

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

contemplated treaty, which filled the whole northern
faction in Virginia with consternation. It was feared
that that State could not be withheld from joining
the Southern League, except by force, and that, in a
contest of force, she would be backed, not only by
the southern States, but by the power of Great
Britain.

CHAPTER IX.

“If I had known he had been so cunning of fence, I'd have
seen him damned ere I had fought with him.”

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

It was now the month of February; and a pleasant
day had tempted our young people to a jaunt
of amusement to the head of the falls. Mr. Baker,
stealing away from his duties as a legislator, was one
of the party. Repulsed by Delia, he was beginning
an attempt on the heart of Virginia, of whose loyalty,
as the daughter of Mr. Hugh Trevor, he could entertain
no doubt.

Here his reception would have been little better
than with the other, had not Virginia been held in
check by a respect for the supposed opinions of her
father. Born at the very moment when the good
old gentleman was in the act of making up his mind
to sacrifice the sovereignty of his native State to the
necessity of preserving the Union, he seemed to seize
on the opportunity of compensating the impiety to
which he felt himself driven, by giving to his infant
daughter the name he had so long cherished and honored.
It was a moment of one of those relentings
of the heart, in which nature asserts her supremacy,

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

and compels its homage to those whom we have
been accustomed to reverence and obey. If even the
prodigal or the traitor be subject to be so affected,
how much stronger must be such an impulse in the
mind of a pure and upright man, impelled by a sense
of duty to his country to dishonor her venerated
name. This poor tribute was as the kiss of peace
with which the executioner implores the pardon of
some illustrious victim of State policy, who is about
to bleed under his hand. Had he yielded to his feelings,
he would have taken up the self-accusing lamentation
of the returning prodigal. But his sense
of duty was deep and abiding, and was always most
sure to command his exact obedience when the duty
was most painful. He could not doubt the correctness
of a conviction, which even his cherished devotion
to his native State could not make him shake off
entirely. In such a case, to doubt was, with him, to
be convinced.

But the name thus bestowed upon his daughter was
not without an effect on her mind. She knew little
of politics, but, from her very infancy, self-love had
made her jealous of the honor of the State whose
name she bore. The name itself was a spell of
power on the heart of Delia. It had disposed her
to love her cousin before she knew her. It had
drawn them together on their first acquaintance, and
had often been the theme of conversation between
them. Somewhat older, and much the superior in

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

intellectual power, Delia had, unwittingly, exercised
an influence over the mind of Virginia which inclined
her to listen favorably to all that could be urged
against the usurper's claim to a dominion, unchecked
by the authority of the State.

For more than a year past, Mr. Trevor had himself
begun to doubt the wisdom of his former opinions.
Doubting, he was silent, but he had not been
unwilling to subject his daughter to the action of her
cousin's more vigorous mind. For many years, he
would as soon have exposed his children to the contagion
of the plague, as permit them to visit their
uncle. During the last summer he had suffered Arthur
and Virginia to spend a month with him; and he
was not sorry to observe that the former came home
with deeper thoughts than he chose to express. Of
their love and admiration of their uncle neither made
any secret. He was not only unlike their father, but
so unlike any other man, that he had been a curious
study to them during their whole visit. The originality
of his thoughts, and the vividness with which
he expressed them, afforded them constant amusement.
He had that faculty of making truth look
like truth, in the exhibition of which the young mind
so much delights. Then he was so frank, so ardent,
and withal so kind, that it was impossible to know
and not to love him.

After all this, the reader will not be like to partake
of the surprise of Mr. Philip Baker, when he found,

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

on shifting his battery, that he was not much more
in favor with Virginia Trevor than with her cousin.
The consequence was, that whenever he attempted,
in company, to attach himself to the immediate party
of these young ladies, he was apt to find himself a
supernumerary. But, as Virginia had shown no
marked dislike to him, his vanity easily adopted the
idea that she considered him as the property of
Delia. He took some pains to undeceive her, and
would have been mortified at her unconcern on the
occasion, had he not thought some allowance should
be made for her indifference to a man who did but
take her as a pis aller. He did not, therefore, at once
withdraw himself from their coterie, but continued to
hang about, and take his part in conversation, whenever
nothing particularly exclusive in the manner of
the interlocutors forbade it. He could not come
between whispers; but he could answer any observation
that met his ear. Being, as I have said,
something between a proser and a declaimer, he
thought himself eloquent, and would seize occasions
to hold forth to the general edification, in a style intended
to dazzle the bystanders.

On the day of which we speak, he had been in
close attendance on Virginia, until, rather by address
than by direct repulse, she had contrived to shake
him off. It so happened, that the rest of the company
were all paired off, leaving him in the enviable
condition of a half pair of shears, when relief

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

appeared in the person of a gentleman just from
Richmond.

This gentleman, originally one of the devisers of
the pic nic, had staid behind for the mail, and now
arrived with the news alluded to in the last chapter.
Baker, being disengaged at the moment, was the first
to receive the intelligence, and he lost no time in
awakening the attention of the company by volleys of
oaths and imprecations. While he continued to exercise
himself in calling down the vengeance of “the
Eternal,” according to the most approved formula of
the old court, on those whom he denounced as traitors,
the rest listened in amazement, disgust, or alarm, to
this boisterous effusion of his rage. At length, as
he stopped to take breath, Douglas availed himself
of the pause to ask what was the matter. The
whole story now came out, and Mr. Baker, having
put his audience in possession of his text, went on
with his discourse. Unmindful of the presence of
the ladies, he vented his wrath in language with
which I do not choose to stain my paper. Every
man who had held a conspicuous place among the
advocates of State rights for the last twenty years,
was condemned, ex cathedra. The dead were especially
recommended to the tender mercies of the
devil, in whose clutches he supposed them to be;
while the living were indiscriminately devoted to the
same doom.

Against the person by whom the treaty was said

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

to have been negotiated, his wrath burned most
fiercely. In the midst of one of his most savage
denunciations of that gentleman, he happened to recollect
having heard Delia speak of him as the intimate
friend of her father. The thought turned his
eye upon her. She was already pale and trembling
with emotion, when she caught his insulting glance.
In an instant the blood gushed to her face, and tears
to her eyes. He saw it, and went on to comprehend in
his denunciation all the aiders, abettors, and friends
of the traitor, whom in one breath he devoted to the
gallows.

This was more than Delia could bear, and more
than Douglas was disposed to suffer. He had caught
the glance which Baker had cast at his cousin; he
saw the effect on her feelings; he witnessed her increasing
emotion, and felt it his duty to come to her
relief. He approached Baker, and passing him, as
if with no particular design, touched him gently, and
said in a low voice: “Such language is improper in
this company.”

“How so,” exclaimed Baker, aloud. “I hope
there is no man here disposed to take the part of a
traitor.”

Douglas turned, and, biting his lip, said in a tone
not loud, but from its distinctness and marked emphasis,
audible to all present: “I spoke so as to be
heard by none but you, and invited you by a sign to
go apart where I might explain my meaning in

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

private. But, as you will have the explanation here,
I say, that you know there is no man here disposed
to take the part of a traitor. If you had thought
there was, sir, I suspect your denunciations would
have been less violent.”

“I don't understand you, sir,” said Baker, reddening.

“My meaning is as plain as becomes this presence,”
said Douglas, coldly, and again walking
away. Baker looked around, and read in every eye
that he was expected to follow. He did so, and,
joining Douglas, they both walked on together.

“I shall be glad to receive a farther explanation,
sir,” said he in an agitated tone.

“Speak lower, then,” replied Douglas, calmly,
slipping his arm within that of Baker; “and use no
gesture. My meaning is this: That he who is
regardless of the presence and feelings of a lady, is
not apt to overlook those of a man. To make my
meaning yet plainer, sir, your language would have
been more guarded, had my uncle been represented
here, not by a daughter, but by a son.”

The quiet tone of Douglas's voice, the equivocal
meaning of the first words he had uttered, and the
pacific action intended to deceive those who looked on,
had calmed for a moment the alarm of Baker. He
had recovered himself before he was made to perceive
what was really meant; and ere he had time to
reflect on his situation, the dangerous temptation of

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

a repartee assailed him. Glancing back at the company,
he said: “If I may judge by appearances,
sir, you have the right as well as the inclination to
assume that character.”

Douglas had turned his head, instinctively, as
Baker looked back, and saw that they had rounded a
point of rock, and were out of sight. In an instant,
he disengaged his arm with a push that nearly
threw the legislator down the bank, and stepping
back, glared upon him with an eye that instantly
brought the other to his senses. While he stood
blenching and cowering under this fierce glance,
Douglas recovered his self-command, and said, with
stern calmness: “You had nearly made me forget
myself, sir. But we understand each other now.
Take a turn along the shore to compose yourself. I
will wait here for you, and we will return to the company
together.”

He seated himself on a rock, and the other obeyed
mechanically. How he succeeded in recovering his
composure is another affair. He walked on, and on,
and fain would he have followed the course of the
river to the mountain cave from which it issues, there
to hide himself from the consequences of his own
folly and impertinence. What would he not have
given to recall that last speech? Until then, he was
the party aggrieved. Douglas's offence against him
had not been so gross as to admit of no explanation;
and, to all appearance, an amicable one had been

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

given. The truth might not have come out until he
had had time to escape to his constituents; and before
the next session the affair might have been forgotten.
But now, Douglas had been insulted, and how he felt,
and how he would resent the insult, was awfully
certain.

Baker continued his walk so far, that the girls
became uneasy at the absence of the two young
men. They begged some of the gentlemen to go in
quest of them, but the request was evaded. At last,
they rose from their seats on the rocks, and declared
they would themselves go. They accordingly set
out, followed by the rest, and in a few yards came to
where Douglas was quietly seated on a flat stone,
and playing checks with pebbles on the smooth
sand.

“Where is Mr. Baker?” exclaimed Virginia,
eagerly.

“Yonder he goes,” replied Douglas, calmly. “He
has a mind for a longer walk than I like; and I am
just waiting for him here. But I must not detain
you, girls. His taste for the picturesque will probably
be satisfied by the time we get to our horses,
and he will soon overtake us.”

He said this with an air so careless as to deceive
every person present but Delia. But the heart will
speak from the eye, and a glance at her, as she
searched his countenance, unconsciously said: “I
have redressed you.” Coloring deeply, she strove

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

to hide her emotion,—taking his arm and busying
herself at the same time with the adjustment of her
veil. In spite of some undefined apprehensions, she
was grateful, relieved, and pleased; and a slight
pressure on the arm she held, spoke her feelings
perhaps as distinctly as they were understood by
herself.

Douglas returned the pressure with more energy.
The words of Baker yet tingled in his ears; and
while they burned with the insult, the pain was more
than soothed by the thoughts they had awakened.
Were then the day-dreams of his boyhood to become
realities? He was not, as yet, conscious of any but
a cousin's love for Delia. He could impute no other
feeling to her. But should this mutual affection
ripen into a more tender sentiment! With whom
could a man pass his days more happily, than with a
woman so intelligent, so amiable, so prudent, so
much a lady? He did not love her. But he felt
that to love her, and be beloved by her, would be a
happy lot. The slight weight she rested on his arm
was sweet to him. He wished the pressure was
heavier. But she walked on, self-poised, and with
a light and steady step over the rugged ground.
Was not that step more confident, because she felt
that he was there to aid her in case of need? Even
so, she seemed sufficient for herself in the resources
of her own mind. Yet had she needed and accepted,
and gratefully, though silently, acknowledged his

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

protection. He was happy in having had occasion
to protect her. Was not she the happier for it
too? The heart will ask questions. Time gives the
answer.

CHAPTER X.

— Oh! speak it not!
Let silence be the tribute of your homage!
The mute respect, that gives not woman's name
To the rude breath, which, trumpeting her praises,
Taints by applauding.
Anonymous.

[figure description] Page 090.[end figure description]

A few days after, Douglas handed his cousin the
following paper:

“Mr. Baker begs leave to throw himself on the
mercy of Miss Delia Trevor. He confesses his
offence against her on Saturday last. He admits,
with shame, that he did intend to wound her feelings,
and that he has nothing to offer in extenuation
of his offence. He does not even presume to ask a
pardon, which he acknowledges to be unmerited,
and respectfully tenders the only atonement in his
power, by assuring Miss Trevor that he will never
again, intentionally, offend her by his presence.

Delia read this curious document in silence, and,
on looking up, found that Douglas had left the room.
She ran after him, but he was gone, and for a day or
two avoided any opportunity for farther explanation.

[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]

At length she found one, and asked by what means
the paper had been procured.

“By proper means, my dear coz,” said he, “if
the paper is a proper one.”

“Proper!” exclaimed she, “for me to receive,
certainly. But for him to give! Indeed, I pity any
poor wretch who can be so abject. I am glad, at
least, I am to see him no more. I should find it
hard to behave to him as becomes myself!”

“It would be hard,” said Douglas, “but as you
always will behave as becomes yourself, hard though
it be, it was right you should be spared the trial.”

“This is your doing then?” said she.

“No questions, coz,” replied Douglas. “I must
behave as becomes me too.”

This put an effectual stop to farther inquiry, and
the slight concealment did but deepen Delia's sense
of the service Douglas had rendered her. While she
admired the delicacy which, at once, veiled and
adorned his chivalrous character; he, on his part
felt greater pleasure at having redressed her wrong,
because the affair had taken such a turn as to conceal
the part that he had acted. The ties thus formed in
secret, are doubly sacred and doubly sweet. The
heart involuntarily classes them with those chaste
mysteries which the vulgar eye must not profane.
They become the theme of thoughts which sometimes
rise up, and kindle the check, and light the
eye, and then sink down again and hide themselves
deep in the silent breast.

[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

But this privacy was destined to be invaded by
one person, at least; and that, the very one from
whom Douglas would most anxiously have concealed
the whole affair. Yet was there no person to whose
tenderness, delicacy, and affection for both parties, it
could have been more fitly confided. In short, Mr.
Trevor, one day, placed in the hands of his son a letter,
in the President's own hand-writing, of which the
following is a copy:

Washington, March 3d, 1849.

My dear sir: I hasten to lay before you a piece
of information which touches you nearly. Though I
receive it at the hands of one who has the highest
claims to my confidence, I yet trust it will prove to
have originated in mistake.

It is said that your son, Lieutenant Trevor, on
receiving the news of the late treasonable proceedings
of some of the southern States, openly vindicated
them; and that he spoke freely in defence of
the principal agent in their most wicked attempt to
league themselves with the enemies of their country.
It is said, moreover, that, in doing this, he insulted
and fastened a quarrel on one, whom I have great
reason to esteem for his uniform devotion to the
Union. The regular course for such a charge against
an officer, holding a commission in the army of the
United States, is one which I would not willingly
pursue, in the case of the son of one of my earliest

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

and most cherished friends. As Lieutenant Trevor
is now at home, on furlough, I address this letter to
you, to be laid before him. I have no doubt he will
readily give the necessary explanations, and, in so
doing, afford me a new occasion for displaying that
regard for you and yours, with which I am,

“Can you tell me what this means?” said the
mild old gentleman to his son.

“As I remember,” replied Douglas, “the circumstances
under which I heard of the events alluded to,
I think, I can give a guess at the meaning. It
means that my cousin was insulted, in my presence,
and that I protected her, as was my duty.”

“And how does it happen that I never heard of
it? Who was the person, and what has become of
the affair?”

“It has all blown over,” said Douglas, “and I
had hardly expected it would ever be spoken of
again. Delia alone knew of it from me, as it was
right she should. I have never mentioned, nor has
my friend. I am sure she has not; and what the
other party can promise himself from the exposure, I
am sure I cannot tell.”

“The thing is now made public, at all events;
and both as your father and as the friend of the President,
it is right that I should know all about it.”

“Certainly, sir,” replied Douglas, “you shall

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

know all; and when you do, I need not explain why
I have never told you before.”

He left the room, and soon returned with a bundle
of papers. From this he handed one to his father,
which proved to be a challenge, in the most approved
form, from him, the said Douglas Trevor, to Philip
Baker, Esq. Then came a proposition to discuss
from the other party; then a flat demand of apology,
or the alternative of, what is called, gentlemanly
satisfaction; then an offer to apologize; then the
paper we have already seen; and then the following:

“Philip Baker declares, on his honor, that he
meant no offence to Lieutenant Trevor by any words
addressed to him on Saturday last; and that he
deeply regrets having spoken any which may have
sounded offensively in the ears of Lieutenant Trevor.”

“This will do,” said Mr. Trevor. “It only
shows that you have acted as became a soldier and
a gentleman. These papers show clearly that the
quarrel began in an insult to your cousin, which you
were bound to resent. This will be perfectly satisfactory
to the President.”

“Doubtless it would be,” said Douglas, promptly;
“but so much of the affair as implicates my cousin's
name must go no farther.”

“But it is that,” replied Mr. Trevor, “which
shows the cause of the quarrel. The other papers
only show that you fancied an intention to insult

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

where none existed. This would tally too well with
what the President has heard.”

“Be it so,” answered Douglas, calmly. “If the
President is never satisfied till I furnish a paper
which is to blend my cousin's name with a public
discussion, he must remain dissatisfied. I cannot
help it. Better to have suffered the insult to
pass unnoticed, than to make a lady's name the
theme of guard-house wit.”

“Bless you, my noble boy,” said the admiring
father. “You are right, and there is no help for it.
But what shall I say to the President?”

“What you please. The conclusions you draw
from what you know, he is welcome to. The facts
are with you.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Trevor, after a musing
pause; “certainly he will trust in my general assurance
that his information is, to my certain knowledge,
erroneous. This will do. It must be sufficient.”

“It must do,” said Douglas, “whether it will or
no. In the mean time, my dear sir, let me beg that
the affair may go no farther, even in the family.
Delia alone knows of it, and she only knows as
much as may be gathered from that paper, a duplicate
of which is her's by right. I therefore beg
that you will say nothing about it, even to her.”

And he did say nothing to her; but Douglas observed,
that that night, when she held up her lip for
his paternal kiss, the kind old gentleman gave it

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

with more than his usual tenderness. He held her
off, parted the hair from her forehead, gazed earnestly
and affectionately upon her; and then, kissing
her again, bad God bless her, in a voice choked
with emotion. From that moment, she was to him
as a daughter.