The morning broke still and serene over the shores of the Chesapeake,
now in the full fruition of their summer glories, and the flowers clustering
with a rich harvest of beauties o'er hill and dale, garden and lawn, meadow
and brook. The sun was just scattering his ruddy rays over the eastern
shores, and lighting up the sleepy waters of that glorious inland sea, like a
burnished mirror clearing itself from the taint of human breath. The marine
birds soared in lazy flights along the surface, admiring their own graceful
shadows, perhaps, while out toward the ocean, they seemed like white feathers
floating lazily in the sun beams. It was a morning to give wings to the imagination,
yet the picture cannot be embodied perfectly to the mind of another,
it must be felt as well as seen. The accessaries of temperature, health, position,
and, above all, the true, mood must be present to insure its perfect enjoyment.
To exist, to breathe, is then a positive enjoyment.

Kate Spotswood was of a temperament to enjoy all these summer glories,
with a relish only known to nature's poets and painters. She was not disposed
to indulge in the dreamy mood alone, however, for at the first peep of
dawn she was in Ellen Evylin's room, and had roused up the valetudmarian.
That wakeful child of sorrow lay with her eyes as preternaturally bright as
they were the night before, and Kate saw that they had been very differently
employed than in sleeping, for her pillow was yet moist with tears. She
begged her friend to leave her to her thoughts; but no, Kate said, “she was
her physician, that her father had put her under her care, and she was now
about to administer the first prescription;” she drew the curtain from the
window, and pointed to the glorious scene without, stretching away in the
distance, until it was lost is the misty junction of the watery horizon. “Look,
dear Ellen, at those long blue pennants sweeping out towards Cape Charles,
did you ever see any thing more beautiful? see how they contrast with the
lighter blue of the sky, and now how the sun, rolling up behind, tips their
edges with crimson. Get up, dear Ellen, God never made these morning
glories to be seen in bed; it is the salutation of Heaven to Earth; nature is
just drawing the first curtain from before his altar, and we of the earth should
not reject the proffered boon.”

“Dear Kate, what an enthusiast you are?” said poor Ellen, still longing
to be alone.

“Enthusiast, Ellen? indeed I am an enthusiast, God loves enthusiasts, and
the wicked only hate them. They chime not with gross and grovelling pursuits;
they are of Heaven, not of Earth. All that is bright and lovely and
beneficent of Earth, is born of enthusiasm. Enthusiasm first discovered this
glorious land; it fired the hearts of the Crusaders; and if they recovered not
the Holy Land, did far more, for they exalted our sex to their true position

[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

and dignity. My father, too, he is called an enthusiast by the cold-blooded
common senso men; look at him, dear Ellen, his thoughts soar forever over
those blue mountains, and that very passion will cary him one day to their
summits, and does it not ennoble his character? Is he not elevated by it; see
how pure and guileless he walks among the poor intriguing politicians who
clog his steps, and yet cannot advance one of their own. Is he not the life
and soul of the whole Colony?”

“Kate, you bear down all opposition, I give up to enthusiasm: only bring
me back to its brilliant hopes and aspirations, and you will earn your title of
Doctress, indeed!”

“That will I, my poor scared bird; you have been caged so long, that you
have forgotten how to flutter, much less fly; but come, soar along with me
among the bright wings that surround us without, and your pinlons will come
back again. You were never made, dear Ellen, to grovel, and pine, and
die among the tamer duties and every day drudgeries of life.”

“I have substituted duty for enthusiasm, Kate.”

“Duty! well, come Mrs. Duty, only give me your hand and I will trip you
over field and flower, and brae and brake, and moor and lawn, until we shall
accomplish all Mrs. Duty's task, and far more besides. I tell you, Ellen, that
duty is none the worse for a little of the genuine fire, she goes lame without
wings, and even hobbles on crutches, but clap the pinions to her, and she soars
aloft, and sips the very beauties which God created to be met half way by
such a spirit. Heaven itself is but one continued scene of enthusiasm; we
cannot form a conception of its glories without bidding good-day to Earth.”

“And leave poor old Duty behind.”

“There you are wrong, dear Ellen, to separate them; I would only clothe
the dame in brilliant bues, while you want to murder her with rags and
poverty.”

“Oh, Kate, how you do run away with the argument.”

“Not at all, Ellen, I only want to convince you that there are more ways than
one to do right, and that even doing right in in a peculiar way, is very near
a kin to doing wrong.”

“Why, Kate, one would think to hear you talk, that I had been doing something
very wrong.”

“It is not exactly that, dear Ellen, but I wish to convince you that there
are higher and nobler duties than those, with the performance of which you
satisfy your conscience.”

“You surprise me exceedingly! tell me what those high duties are?”

“A cheerful spirit is the first and greatest thing which you lack,” seeing
the poor valetudinarian burst into tears, she pushed away her woman and
threw her arms round her, while she continued:

“Nay, nay, nay, Ellen, I would not wound you for the world; I wished
rather to coax than scold you from your settled dejection.”

“Kate, you know not what I suffer, you cannot, no one can know.”

“There is the very point dearest—try it with me, no mother ever listened
to daughter with the same indulgence that I will listen to you. If your
imagination magnifies trifles into matters of importance, it is enough for me
that they are so to you, and I will look at them with your eyes. Dear Ellen, I
seek your confidence with the most sincere desire to befriend you—I promise
you I will feel too much as you feel—I will weep when you weep, and if you
cannot laugh when I laugh, why, we will e'en cry together. Dear Ellen,
throw me not off, I love you like my own, own Sister.”

“I cannot withstand your appeal, Kate, you have made a child of me, and
you must put up with my childishness.”

By this time Kate had her arm round the walst of the invalid, and was
urging her through the garden, to the grove beyond.

[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]

“Here is a lovely seat,” said she, “and we can sit here at the foot of this
old tree and talk till we are tired—or rather till you are tired, for when that
comes, then I will talk to you. The birds you see are warbling their pretty
stories among the fresh green leaves. See that mocking bird, how it chatters
to its mate, that is me, Ellen, and the silent one represents you, only I'm sure
I cannot discourse such sweet music as my prototype.”

“Dear Kate, the very sound of your voico, cheers my heart,—before I left
home, I had not walked this far, for many, many months.”

“Oh how I rejoice, that you are come at last—you don't know how I have
longed to have you here, just as now, your whole confidence mine.”

“I shall be so, Kate, and I have often wished for such a confident, but my
whole being shrinks from disclosing the weaknesses of earlier days.”

“One to hear you talk, would suppose you fifty at the least.”

“I may appear staid and sober enough, but I have not always been so.
Do you not recollect when we first met at the Capital, what a thoughtless
rattlebrain I was?”

“I recollect only that you took me captive, heart and soul, little girls as we
were, and if I remember right, I was not the only one.”

“Oh, Kate! what memories your words recall—what happiness—what
weaknesses! those of childhood, to be sure,—but is not the sturdy oak bent
when it is a twig, and grows it not so forever? You know it is so Kate,
with our sex at least. The world is all wrong in supposing that we wait to
come out into the world to prepare for the world. Those things which fix—
irretrievably fix our destiny, are the legitimate fruits of childhood—they are
matters of feeling, not of judgment. I am almost wicked enough to repine
sometimes when I think that my destiny for this life was cast and lost before
I was perfectly a responsible being, but it was doubtless so designed by an
All-Wise Providence, to teach me that this is not my true home.”

“There now, Ellen, we might begin the argument again, were I disposed
to interrupt you, but I am not. You were speaking at the time when we
first met.”

“Or rather Kate, when I first met Frank Lee. You see I can even call
his name now, which my poor fond father would no more do in my presence,
than he would explode a petard at my feet. Poor Frank was left a ward of
my father's, you know. Papa attended old Mr. Lee in his last illness, he was
unprepared to die—no will made. Papa wrote his will and agreed to accept the
trust of his two sons, Francis and Henry. He brought them from Westmoreland
with him and they went to College from our house. Oh, what
happy, joyous, frolicksome days were those of the first year. I saw no difference
in the boys, they were both my seniors, and both as brothers to me.
Those happy, happy evenings during the long winter nights, when my father
used to sit and talk to us about the structure of the earth—its revolutions,
and those of the other planets, and then of the innumerable worlds beyond—
and sometimes he would perform chemical experiments for our amusement—
in short he became a child among children, in order that they might become
men. But I went hand in hand in all their studies, aye, and plays too—they
almost made a little Amazon of me, and I really believe they would have
taken me out gunning with them, if papa had not put his veto upon it. This
he could not do however with all the unfeminine amusements into which they
forced me. You recollect my little sorrel poney, and how we three cantered
over the neighborhood of Williamsburg. Not an old fish or oyster negro, but
knew us a mile off. Oh, how merry Frank was—so full of buoyant spirits—
so exhiliarated with hope—so cheerful—so kind to every body, so obliging—
so repentant when he did wrong, so stern and steady when right. I
think I can see his pouting lip now maintaining his boyish rights.

“Do you know Kate, that I saw a fearful resemblance to the expression of

[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

his mouth in that strange tutor last night. I know it was only a chance resemblance,
wholly accidental, but it has interested me in that young man.
When I saw him throw his eyes to the floor and become lost in a reverie, until
they had to jog him quite rudely, when it came to his turn to read, I would
have given any thing in this world to have travelled with his thoughts to
his distant home, and proscribed friends. Perhaps thought I, he too has been
left an orphan like poor Frank, and wandered as he did, from the happy scenes
of his childhood, and is now calling them up one by one, in painful pictures
of the past. I longed to compare notes with him, I know it was very foolish,
but it was all conjured up by that smile.

“Oh such an expression, never but one youth before had. It told a history—
there were years of association with it, long years of memory lent their shadows,
and that bright smile was like the dimples round a stone thrown at random
into the river, slowly receding and vanishing—leaving the shores and
their histories as if the stone had never been thrown. But where was I?
Oh! up to this time, I had never perceived any difference between the brother's,
or never analyzed it, if I had. Frank being the elder, seemed very naturally
to take the lead in everything. One circumstance I did remark, by the
by—whenever he went away to spend a day or a week, with some neighboring
youth among the gentry, we were all moped to death. Father and Harry
were as much rejoiced to see him return as I was, but this was attributed by
me at the time, to the breaking up of our little family party. I knew not but
it would have been the same if any other one had gone. I perceived not that he
was the very life and soul of our little meetings. Neither had I perceived up
to this time, that Frank was at all different from other youths of his age, he
appeared just like them to me—he dressed like the rest of the young gentry—
rode like them—talked like them. No, not exactly either—he did not talk
like common boys, for there was a winning gentleness about him mingled
with the manliness of riper years, which the old negroes used to say betokened
an early death. Alas, how true those forebodings were. You see I cannot
keep up the history of the two boys together, I so runaway with the memory
of Frank. There was no perceptible difference in their attainments at
school, more than could easily be accounted for by disparity of years. This
was not great, but two or three years is greater I believe in mental than physical
growth.

“As I began to approach my fourteenth year, now five years ago, I marked
the distinctive identity of my father's wards. I observed little things, but not
great ones—those on the surface, but nothing deeply. Henry was the more
silent of the two, more cautious, prouder and more given to the pomps and
vanities of his station. He loved to affect the gentleman even thus early,
would seldom ridc out without a servant, and loved to be waited upon for show
and ceremony's sake, as well as from convenience or actual necessity. He
could not bear a joke, of playfulness of any sort at his own expense, while he
was very willing to be amused at the expense of others; yet, when he laughed
or played, it was never with his whole heart and soul, like his brother.
You see, dear Kate, I am answering your oft repeated appeals in behalf of
Henry Lee, in giving his history.

“Henry, to tell the truth, loved self too much, and regarded others too little,
while his brother was the very reverse in every respect. Frank, you know, by
the laws of the land, inherited the bulk of his father's property, which had
been in no way disturbed by the will, except to give Harry his mother's
share, which was amply sufficient, I am told, to have made him independent,
and better off than younger brothers generally are. Yet there was now evidently
growing up a jealousy of his brother's great possessions. Though the
younger he would sneer at his brother's position, as the head of the family—
bow to him when rebuked, in mock humility.

[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]

“In all their College squabbles with other boys, Harry was sure to be the aggressor
in the quarrel, and Frank was sure to do the fighting; not that Harry
was a coward at all, but his brother was so much more of a generous
and ohivalrous nature. I have seen him come home all bloody from fighting
Harry's battles, and cannot remember an instance of the latter becoming
the champion of the other.”

“He was the younger,” said Kate.

“True, but he was the stouter and stronger too, I believe. However, give
him all the advantages of his position; I would not detract one iota from his
claims, of any kind. These distinctive marks in their character began to
develope themselves more and more every day, until the very servants
plainly showed their partiality for Frank. My father, too, impartial, calm
and temperate, as you know him to be in his feelings, could not help showing
his greater fondness for the elder brother, and this brings me to the
relation of a fact, a small one it is true, but these develope character.
Harry perceived this growing partiality of my father—if that may be called
partiality, which was nothing more than the love of good and generous actions,
and was not long in telling him of it. Not only did he charge him with
it, but he alleged that it was the result of interested motives, and grew
entirely out of his desire to secure Frank and his fortune for his daughter.
We were all present, and I am very sure that I shall never forget the
scene which succeeded. My venerable old father was terribly shocked, as
you may suppose, and he rebuked Harry, as I never heard him rebuke any
one before. If Harry had possessed any genuine feeling, he would have
shrunk into nothing, at such a withering castigation, from a source usually
so mild and gentle. But he was far from feeling remorse on the occasion,
and never retracted.

“It was a beautiful moonlight night, and I ran out into the garden, and there,
in that old summer house which you have so often chided me for making my
home, I had like to have cried my very eyes out, for mortification. I had
never had such a thought pass through my mind, any more than if Frank had
been my brother. Now that it was distinctly presented, and in such a startling
light, too, shall I confess it to you, my dear Kate, my kind confessor, that
it was not wholly unpleasant. The mortification was profound, but I fear the
poison had sunk equally deep with it. I, of course, at that age, could not
enter into a very rigid self-examination; my powers of self-analysis, if I had
even been disposed to exercise them, could not be very great, but I can trace
my feelings now, and I confess to you, that that charge, a disgraceful one if
true, carried with it a surmise that, though wholly untrue on our parts, it
might not be so on Frank's Oh, what a terrible quarrel succeeded between
those two young brothers; Frank poured down such a torrent of indignation
upon his brother, as no one could have supposed would ever issue from lips usually
so mild and gentle; and, must I confess all, it was mingled with such praises of
me, as no poor motherless girl of fourteen could hear in safety. I did not eave'sdrop,
but hearing the quarrel somewhat abate, I essayed to get to my own
room, which could only be approached through the one in which they were
sitting. I retreated to my seat again. My poor, almost heart broken father,
was already locked up in his chamber, and did not again make his appearance
that night.

“At length Henry was silenced, but not abashed or repentant, and walked
himself off in great state, declaring he would never enterour doors again. He
slept that night, truly enough, in College. When he was gone, Frank came
in search of me. You, dear Kate, can imagine my feelings; young as I was,
I was covered with shame, and must have looked to him like the guilty participator
in the interested scheme with which his brother charged me, but it
was from a very different cause.

[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]

“I was beginning to have a faint idea that the youth before me was indeed
dearer to me than a brother; and after what had been said, and feeling as I
did, how could I look him in the face? And how could he look at my evident
shame and embarrassment, without having a suspicion, at least, that that part
was true; but he was a brave, noble, generous boy; his own nature was too
bright and pure to suspect others. He seated himself on the grass at my feet,
and took both my hands, and then poured out his whole soul to me, boy as he
was, with all its generous treasures and lofty aspirations. He, too, it seemed,
had been unconscious of the slumbering passion within, until it had been
revealed sometime before by a similar scene between him and his brother,
when quite alone. Kate, I had to respond to his eloquent, pleading passion,
or else give further grounds for suspecting me of some sinister design in
future, because I had betrayed too much already to affect concealment now,
and I met his confiding nature with a frankness equal to his own.

“Oh, that bright, fair youth! how the true fervor of passion, in its first
and brightest dream, gushed from his heart. How brilliantly his graceful and
chaste imagination entwined our future lives, through vistas all green and
luxuriant with flowers, and from which even the rude blasts were most carefully
excluded. He knew little of the real world; he was as guileless and
unpractised in wickedness as a babe, and I was quite as inexperienced. Is it
surprising, then, that I listened to him with a charmed ear and a willing
heart? No, Kate; no girl reared as I had been could anticipate my sad
experience; and it springs not up in the mind by intuition. I listened and
believed; my faith was laid in the deepest foundations of my being; it was
grounded in my very soul. You, Kate, know something of a woman's love,
even in its inception; you know that it is not only a part of her being, but it
is the whole, at least, the layer upon which all else is built. But I not only
had true and unwavering faith in Frank himself, but I believed in his imaginary
paradise, which his glowing and delighted imagination had painted for
us. I believe that all of our sex spend at least the first quarter of their lives
under a similar illusion, if accident or circumstances produce not the youth
who is to walk hand in hand with us through these bowers of Eden, imagination
furnishes him at once, clothed in the same ideal colors which we throw
around the real youth, when he rises up before us. Oh, what a gorgeous
dream it is while it lasts! how its hues are thrown around every thing in our
little circumscribed world! your beautiful horizon this morning, Kate, crimson
lit, as it was, seemed poor and tame compared with these pictures, which
memory was even then rearing up over all the past. Can you wonder that
when I turn from them, and look into the cold and dreary future, my physical
strength, and even my moral courage, should sink under the withering contrast?

Even our little Eden found a tempter, I will not call him a serpent, for you
know Harry Lee and respect him, and he is often your father's guest, but I
will say that he is by no means exempt from the fierce and deadly passions of
our nature. Nay, more, and let this be the answer once for all to his suit, his
long and persevering suit, pleaded by so many able advocates. Though so
calm and high-bred in all his exterior man, he is but a common man still—all
his passions and deadly enmities are only schooled into good behavior; though
wreaths and flowers grow upon the surface, serpents slumber beneath.

“He returned to our house next morning, nothwithstanding his anathmas of
the evening before, and his stealthy and watchful jealousy very soon discovered
that there was an understanding between Frank and me, if not approved by
my father, and this brings me to the latter's view of the matter. He has
always been mother and father both, to me, consequently the most unreserved
confidence existed between us, as much so as ever existed between parent and
daughter. I went, after a sleepless night, and told him the whole story of our

[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

youthful love and its premature revelation; for I can call it nothing else but a
discovery, and an accidental one on our parts. He was most deeply moved,
aye, and interested too, beyond that which a fond parent might be supposed to
feel, for he was struck with the novelty of such a youthful engagement. I
know that that youthful sentiment, or call it what you will has interwoven
itself into the very essence of my moral existence—it has become purified
and chastened, still more, I know, by poor Frank's untimely fate.” Here she
was interrupted for a while by her tears, but presently proceeded. “I say it
has become sublimated until it mingles with my higher sentiments, and has
become a part of my religious faith. I know of no aspirations after Heaven
and its enjoyments, that are not mixed up with thoughts of his pure spirit.”

“And yet, Ellen, you chided my enthusiasm this very morning?”

“Aye, dear Kate, not because I did not understand your feelings—I realized
them too vividly, and it brought a shudder over me to think how soon that pure
fountain of your own might be poisoned at its source.”

“Let me not interrupt you.”

“My father, I could see, was pleased in spite of himself, and in spite of
Harry's poisonous breath having been blown into our cup of happiness; but
he decided at once, that Frank must anticipate his Edinburgh course, before
determined upon, and they had a long interview that morning, the result of
which was that he was to set out forthwith. Here again, let me say that this
very thing constantly rises up in judgment against Harry. It is unjust, perhaps,
but I cannot help viewing him as in part the cause of poor Frank's
unhappy fate. True, he would have gone some time or other, like all the
youth among our gentry, to finish his education in Europe, but he would not
have gone then, and might have escaped the entanglement with your unhappy
relative's affairs, at any other time. Harry could not conceal his delight at
the new arrangement, even under his cold, proud exterior, and positively
refused to accompany his brother.

“The parting between Frank and me was at yonder town, and as you may
imagine was only supportable from the hope of our soon uniting again. My
father accompanied us to the ship, and we lay upon the water in our little
boat, waving our handkerchiefs, until that noble vessel had become a speck not
much bigger than the boat itself. I could have stayed there forever, or until
he came back, for he carried with him my present existence as well as future.
The past only is now my own, and its treasures I have been pouring out with
a lavish hand to you, my trnest and oldest friend. Harry seemed to think that
he had the whole game in his own hands, after Frank's departure—he could
not conceal his exultation—he attempted to assume his position in our family,
and even went so far as to affect his easy, careless ways and winning manners.
You know enough of that proud and haughty spirit, to estimate how
very unbecoming it appeared in him, but why need I dwell upon that particular
assumption of what was not his own—has he not assumed the hues of the
chameleon; and above all, has he not taken every thing that was Franks?”

“There, dear Ellen, I think you are a little unjust, for he, of course, must
inherit his brother's property.”

“Of course, but it is not just that—it was the indecent haste to step into
his shoes in all respects, to which I intended to allude, but perhaps I am
unjust to Harry in detailing particulars. I do not wrong him, however, in the
spirit which I attribute to him as to his past life. I know the man, Kate,
most thoroughly and intimately. Has not our childhood been spent together—
and is he not now ever at our house? No, no, Kate, I have not
wronged him on the whole—I have drawn a flattering likeness of him, and
now contrast poor Frank's personal outlines with his, and you have the two
pictures complete.” Saying which she drew forth a small picture hanging to
a ribbon, and looked at it steadily for a moment as a mother hangs over some

[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]

memento of her lost one, and then handed it to Kate. It was the miniature
of a fair haired youth, yet in his teens, in a crimson velvet dress—the ruffles
falling from his very white neck and hands, so as rather to add to the extreme
youthfulness of the general air. It was a face to look upon and remember
forever—an eye that sparkled with the high impulses of genius as well as the
flush of health and ardor of youth.

“No wonder, dear Ellen, that you cannot look upon Henry with favor, when
you cherish ever near your person such a rival as this. Oh, 'tis a noble
youth!”

“But let us put it by, Kate. It is not well for me to add to my own regrets
by hearing him praised by others. You already know all that sad part of his
history connected with your uncle's execution. You know that he fell fighting
like a hero for his rescue.”

“Would it not be well, my Ellen, to lay it out of sight altogether. I would
certainly advise the step, as the first preparation to fit you for resuming your
proper duties in society.”

“Dear Kate, what inconsistent creatures we poor mortals are—but now I
had almost taken your place, and become the enthusiast of the morning—and
you have almost taken mine, and gone to preaching of duty.”

“It is only the different lights in which circumstances place us. We are
not so dissimilar by nature as these have made us.”

“Oh, Kate, may yours never change so as to render us alike in circumstances,
as in nature, if it should so unfortunately turn out, all those brilliant
colors and gay flowers in which you are wont to clothe every thing, will be
changed to a vision of darkness. A young girl with hope blotted from the
catalogue of her attributes, is like the sky with the lights extinguished—the
longer and deeper you look into it, the blacker and more cheerless it looks. In
other words, it is despair, so far as this world is concerned. A woman who
can re-enact the scenes through which I have gone, must be like a tragedy
queen at rehearsal. No, no, Kate, we are formed for but one great trial of
this sort, and my probation is over. I long to sleep forever from the feverish
dream of this life's false hopes and bitter delusions. Death has no terrors for
me; I look at it as a kind friend, and I solemnly believe, that nothing but my
duty to the living has inspired me thus far to carry my troubles amongst the
joy of others. Yes, Kate, to make my confession the whole truth, without
reserve, there is one faint shadow at which I still cling. Do you know, that
sometimes, even yet, I cannot believe that Frank is dead? I cannot realize
it, you will say, because I was not present at the sad ceremonles. That is
something, doubtless, but I cling to things a little more substantial; two chcumstances,
so slight, that none but the hopeless could grasp at such straws.
First, then, we have never been enabled to hear those sad particulars, the last
scene I mean; and, secondly, Harry has some such faint notion himself; I will
not call it either a fear or a hope, for I cannot name it, but there is such a
surmise; and now, to conclude, let me confess further, that I came here
with the expectation of having this hope quenched or revived.”

“Indeed!” said Kate, truly surprised.

“Yes, Kate, there has been a secret funeral here, of one near and dear
to your father, and with whose death Franks was most intimately connected.
Your father has received many papers relating to these things, and I am
going to commission you sometime soon to be my embassador. Upon that
hope I live, Kate.'

“Most willingly will I assist you, for I do believe that something certain
in that matter is absolutely necessary for you, and that shall be obtained
at all events, now or hereafter; but do tell me, what funeral do you
allude to, and how could it be secret?”

“The remains of Gen. Elliot have been clandestinely removed here,

[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]

whether by your father's orders or by his friends in Europe, I know not,
but certainly with the Governor's approbation, for he had the place of
their reception prepared before the body arrived.”

“How, you astonish me! first at the facts themselves, and next at your
obtaining the information before me; but tell me how you know this to be true?”

“I received the intelligence in a letter from my papa, the very same
which enclosed your pressing invitation; he told it to me as a secret, however,
never supposing for a moment that I could divulge it to anybody,
much less that I would be down here almost as soon as the answer; and
brought, too, by this news. I obtained his permission to mention all this
to you, last night, as he said your father intended to communicate it to
the family, the first moment you were all alone.”

“This is very strange, but now I recollect, that gloomy looking structure
at the foot of the lawn, in the centre of a cluster of trees; and this accounts,
too, for papa's strange appearance the night we saw blood on his
face, and his unusually grave demeanor ever since. And this it was that
brought you to Temple Farm, a desire to pry further into these matters
that made me your confidant, after all.”

“Nay, nay, Kate, could I not as well have chosen Dorothea?”

“Yes, and got laughed at for your pains; sister has no more idea of any one
wasting away from immsterial afflictions, than she has of alchemy. Ten to
one but she would prescribe for your case a bowl of new cream, drank at her
dairy before breakfast. Dear, langhing little jade, she will never die the victim
of sentiment, depend upon it.”

“Thrice happy she,” replied Ellen with a deep drawn sigh, “such should be
all the daughters of this world, but she has yet to be tried, Kate. You may
underrate her susceptibilities.”

“I meant no more myself, Ellen—dear gool natured laughing little
baggage. I am sure I underrate her in nothing. I think this wide, wide
world, contains few such. Father lives over his own youth in her; but
we are forgetting the business in hand, and while we talk of our plans,
let us be moving towards the house slowly, the sun is getting too warm
here for you. Now let me know exactly what I am to do.”

“Why, you are to seize the first opportunity of having a private interview
with your father, at which you are to inform him how far we are
already let into his secrets, and then beg as a special favor for me the
the perusal of all the papers relating to the trial, death and attempted
rescue of General Elliot.”

“And will you, my Ellen, go into his library and pour over those piles
of musty papers, at the same table with this new private secretary of his,
for I understand that he is going to confer that vacant office, also, upon
the stranger who has so captivated him?”

“No Kate, no, we must have them in your room, and then we will
search them together, you have become interested sufficiently in my story,
to take that much interest, or if you dislike the task I will do it alone.
No mother ever read an epistle from a sick child with the same avidity that I
will pour over those musty papers.”

By this time they had reached the house, and seated themselves at the
breakfast table.

CHAPTER XI. MATCH MAKING.

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The Governor's guests and family were already seated at breakfast, more
than one messenger having been despatched for the two missing young ladies.
They entered at the very moment, when some surprise was being expressed at
the unwonted length of Miss Evylin's walk.

“So, so, Doctor,” said the Governor, looking in triumph at his worthy old
friend, “I told you Kate was the better Doctor of the two, now look at your
daughter and tell me if that is not pretty well for the first morning?”

The Doctor made room near himself, for his daughter, and looked indeed
with much interest for the refreshened bloom to which his Excellency alluded.
There it was sure enough, two round red spots in her cheeks—whether the
result of health or disease he seemed somewhat puzzled to tell.

Be that as it might, the effect upon her beauty was indeed lustrous. Her
eyes too, which on the previous night, seemed to move slowly and painfully
over objects in the room, were bright as diamonds, with the late excitement.
Every one approved of Kate's practice, and the Doctor was free to confess
himself out-done, yet he was not so sanguine as others as to the final result.
He would rather have seen that red and white blending imperceptibly in her
cheeks like Kate's. His professional experience led him to distrust those
deceitful heralds of an early grave. The effect for the present was
much the same however, for the trinmphant and enthusiastic Kate herself,
had not brought in from the fields and flowers a richer harvest of beauty.
Sickness rather lent an interest to, than diminished from, the loveliness of that
delicate young creature. In that large company of gay and fashionable people,
she looked like a little nun, just escaped from the gates of a living tomb.
Those two, father and daughter, were objects of peculiar solicitude and interest—
there was a sweet, confidential air between them, quite different from
the ordinary manifestations in similar relations, so placed. They appeared to
be all in all to each other—they had of late lived with and for no one else—
of course that air of monastic seclusion about the daughter particularly, was
far removed from the conventional courtly grace of most of those around her.
Not that there was any gaucherie, far from it, she was rather elevated above
the conventional standard, than fallen below it—so much did that constant,
self-sustained spirit and mental endowments of the rarest order, elevate her
above any mere temporary rules of propriety. She scarcely seemed to think that
she was called upon to bear a part in the general conversation, and yet, when
the Governor or Reverend Commissary, addressed any remark to her, she
answered in a manner to convince every one, that she had read and reflected
upon most subjects comprehended under the terms of general information, even
in the sterner sex.

It had been one of the favorite projects of the Governor, in days gone by,
to unite his eldest son and heir to the daughter of his oldest and best friend.
There seemed a peculiar propriety in this, on every account. Some persons
thought they could perceive a remarkable similarity of mental constitution.
John Spotswood was then one of the ablest men within the boundaries of the
Old Dominion—of vigorous intellect—learned and subtle in the use of scholastic
weapons, and with a power of eloquence, when he chose to use it, which a
public assembly could rarely withstand. There seemed then a propriety in the
proposed union of these most carefully educated persons, but a greater mutual
repugnance sprung up between them than could could have been imagined
from the premises stated. These are matters our fair readers have doubtless
discovered ere this, which are not soluble either by mathematical or logical

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

rules. So it seemed in this case. Any one to have become acquainted with
the parties, separately, would have declared at once, that they were just made
for each other, and yet all things, thus conspiring thereto, the match could not
be brought about. We are speaking of John rather as he once was, than as
he has been presented to the reader. He was now a walking mystery to his
friends—past finding out—perhaps that mystery may be solved ere we progress
much farther in our narrative. He paid her several visits, and spent some
long evenings with the Doctor, but when his father catechised him in his bantering
way upon the progress of the affair, he answered abruptly that she was
a prude.

Ellen ran her eyes over the company at the table, in search of the new
tutor, anxious to see how he would appear by daylight, and almost afraid to
see those lips again that called up so many painful memories—while she was
in the very act, a servant entered with an answer to a message, which the Governor
had despatched to him previous to her entrance—to the effect, that he
would pay his respects to his Excellency and his guests directly.

“Poor fellow,” said the Governor, “he doubts his position in our little circle,
and was too unpresuming to present himself, but I will soon shew him that if Lady
Spotswood marshals her guests to the table in order of their rank, that I range
mine in the order of their merit.”

Her Ladyship laughed at this saily and replied “That it was the first time
in her recollection that she had been charged with too exact an observance
of form and ceremony. What says the Commissary?”

“I think that the papers relating to the Tramontaine expedition might answer
that question for his Excellency. Are not three-fourths of the aristocracy of
the land ranged against it?” said he.

“It was not her Ladyship who offended them; that sin lies upon my shoulders.
Indeed I did but jest about the order of precedence.”

A cloud came over that hard weather-beaten face, as soon as the great subject
of all his meditations were mentioned, and he remained in a thoughtful mood
for a while, and then continued: “My first offence was that I, a military man,
and nothing else, arrived in the Colony most unexpectedly to take the place
of a gentleman who was captured on his way hither by the French. He was
expected to espouse the cause of the clique whom I have mortally
offended by attending to the real interests of the whole Colony. Instead
of being too much of a political partizan, I have not been enough so to please
them. In the second place, I have established ware-houses for the inspection
of tobacco at convenient places throughout the land, and this touches the
pockets of the planting interest. In the third place, I have established a
large iron furnace and forge, and this separates me still more from that interest.
And fourthly and lastly, I have advocated the establishment of military
posts from the frontiers to the head waters of the Mississippi, thus disuniting
the grasping French from forming in our rear, and this they say, all the men
and tobacco in the Colony could not accomplish. Is it truly put, Mr. Commissary?”

“Very fairly stated, but you forgot to mention the Indian hostages at the
College.”

“Oh, aye. They say farther that I am putting a stick into the hands of
savages to break our own heads. Now we have the whole case; was ever a
glorious and magnificent scheme of conquering an Empire, thwarted from
from such pitiful and contemptible motives. Oh, if I only had some of
Marlborough's brave boys here, how I would shame these poor sordid narrow
minded creatures. I would plant the British Lion on the most commandin
position which it has ever yet occupied. Grand as the enterprise is, in a military
point of view, it is far surpassed in importance by its civil and social
relations. The discovery of Columbus itself was nothing—the achievements

[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

of Smith and Raleigh are nothing if we are to be hemmed in here within a
narrow strip of land along the Atlantic coast. Accomplish my design and
resources are opened to the west, which the most enthusiastic visionary cannot
now foresee.”

Kate exchanged a smile with some of the young gentlemen. She had so
often heard him dilate upon the same subject, while Dorothea looked up in his
face and remarked, “Papa, I have always heard that old soldiers love to fight
their battles over again, but you are always fighting them by anticipation.”

Patting her on the head, he replied, “Then I am a gasconader, am I?”

Before any reply was uttered, the tutor entered, dressed pretty much as he
had been the night before, but looking weary and haggard as if he had spent
a sleepless night. Notwithstanding this, his carriage was erect, and he walked
to his place and made the salutations of the morning with a grace and
ease, more like a courtier just from the saloons of the Queen, than a poor
houseless tutor and private secretary. There was nothing extravagant at all
in his manners; on the contrary, they were regulated with the best possible
taste, with the exception, that he had seemingly not yet schooled himself into
the humble deferential air, usually supposed to become one in his position.
Before he was seated, the Governor named the ladies to him, and he again
bowed to them, bending over very low and gracefully saluted Kate and
Ellen, but not uttering a syllable. He passed the hour of breakfast
very much in the same way, scarcely ever speaking, except when the Governor
addressed some questions directly to him, and which he answered like
a man possessed of ample information touching all the interesting questions
then involved in the subject of the succession.

It was curious to watch the painful sort of interest with which Ellen Evylin's
eyes seemed to gloat on his face every now and then, before she would turn
away with a dissatisfied air.

His face was one which, like the Governor's, had seen some little vicissitudes
of weather, with this difference, that old Boreas had put his marks on
the first after the zenith of life had been passed, while in the other, it was
scarcely approached. He wore large brown whiskers, overshadowing much
of his face, retained no coubt from his military life, and stretching from one
of them, the scar of a deep sabre cut ran along his face and down into his
very month. So that his countenance, when in repose, had rather a ferocious
look, from which, however, it was instantly redeemed when lighted up in conversation.
He was tall and slender, and not apparently in good health. Altogether,
he was a remarkable looking man.

Kate whispered to Ellen, as they were leaving the room, arm in arm, “Our
new tutor has quite as aristocratic an air as any person at the table, and more
of the camp grace about him than even papa himself.”

“Did you ever hear such a deep toned voice, Kate?” said Ellen, “it sounds
like the bass pipes of your organ; I could not help fancying him giving commands
along a line of soldiers in battle array.”

“The very idea, Ellen! there is command in it, aye, and in more than that
about him; poor man, he has not always been a tutor, I dare say.”

“Kate, I always feel sorry for your broken down gentleman; there is no
more melancholy expression in our language, han `such a one has seen better
days,' and how instantly they occur en looking at Mr. Hall. Without
the slightest appearance of an attempt to excite sympathy—indeed quite the
reverse—every tone and attitude tells of fallen fortunes. Papa seems to have
fallen in love with him at first sight, but that big scar over his face would captivate
him, at any time. He loves a soldier for his own sake, independent of
the cause he has been engaged in!”

“And what cause, Kate, did Mr. Hall espouse?”

“I do not know, Ellen, perhaps papa enquired into that; but, as I said just

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

now, it would matter little with him, if his soldiership and personal honor
remained unimpeached.”

“I would almost be a surety for them myself, so firmly persuaded am I that
he is a true man.”

“What strange prejudices you do take up, Ellen, and almost at first sight.
Here is Mr. Harry Lee, a gentleman of princely fortune, high birth, great personal
accomplishments, and a plavmate of your childhood, whom you cannot bear
the sight of; while on the other hand, you are ready to vonch for the honor
and honesty of a poor stanger whom you never saw but once before in your
life.”

“True, Kate, I believe it is the nature of our sex to judge more by the heart
than the head, and I don't know but they err as seldom in their estimates of
character as the other. As to the fortune and birth, and all that, which you
have tossed into Harry Lee's scale in balancing these two characters. I do
not value them at that,” (snapping her fingers.) “I would not marry him
if he was heir apparent to the throne of England.”

“I heard a servant announce to my father, as I left the room, that Mr. Lee
would be here to-day.”

“Yes, I recognized the livery, and so odious has even the poor servant's
badge of office become, that it hurried me from the table.”

“Why, my Ellen, I had no idea, that you were such a spiteful, bitter little
jade!”

“Did you suppose because out of health, I was a poor tame somebody that
said yea and nay, with a drawl, and nasal twang, and that I would be Mr.
Lee's humble servant as soon as he laid his fortune at my feet. No, no Kate,
you, if placed in my position, without ehanging characters, would do just as
I have done.”

“I confess Ellen, that I never admired him myself, even before your sketch,
and I cannot say that my estimate has increased since; he is a gentleman for
all that.”

“Yes, as your holyday world has it—your world that estimates every thing
by the surface, he is a gentleman, but oh, Kate, how I have come to despise
that hollow, deceitful, average of all men to one common conventional standard.
A certain quantity of broad-cloth or velvet—quantum sufficit (as father's prescriptions
say) of lace, four silver buckles—or perhaps gold—a pair of pumps
and a cocked hat—and there is your gentleman.”

“Oh no, Ellen, that is a mere stuffed figure, such as the tailors shew their
fine clothes upon.”

“Well, what more is your ball room gentleman, just give this figure a
motion backwards and forwards, whenever it meets a lady and is spoken to,
and is not the picture complete?”

“Oh no, Ellen, it must talk and laugh.”

“Yes, Kate, and to be very excruciating, it must weep too, but how much
talk will answer, and how small a phial of tears? poh! poh! you know their
small talk is nothing—half of it is about the weather, and the vane upon the
cupola does that a great deal better, and says nothing.”

“Why, Ellen! if the forthcoming shadow of Harry Lee makes you as satirical
as that amusing churchman whom I read to you last night, what will his
real presence do?”

“Make me as stately and formal as he is, if not so pempous.”

“And is he one of your stuffed figures, that talks of the weather and one
thing or another—a walking weather-cock, or the clerk of the weather's
deputy?”

“No, not just that to give him his due, he has some mind—covered up,
beneath all the pomps and vanities of all the Lee's.”

“And what is the staple of his conversation?”

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

“His world material and immaterial, has one common centre, and that is
Mr. Harry Lee, member of the house of Burgesses. He is a philosopher too,
and has discovered a new theory of the solar system!”

“Indeed, and what is his grand principle?”

“Why, that Henry Lee, Esq., of Westmoreland, is the grand centre of that
system, and that the sun revolves around him.”

“Oh, Ellen, how we have all been slandering you here, in your absence.
One gentleman declared, that you were only prevented from taking the veil,
because there was no nunnery convenient. Another that you were going to
join the Dissenters, and another the Quakers—and poor John, that you were a
man-hater.”

“I am sure I never gave your brother any reason to say so. He, I'm certain,
can never be ranked with the automaton figures. Neither of us had
much fancy I believe for each other, in a matrimonial point of view, but no
one can converse with John, for one hour, without respecting his understanding;
but do you know Kate, that he has imbibed deeply of Bolingbroke's most
dangerous opinions?”

“Ha! and that is the secret then of your sudden disagreement, or rather
agreement to disagree?”

“No, no, Kate, I have let you enough into the history of my past life, to
convince you, that I can never listen to the addresses of any living being
more, and this may explain also, the story of my man-hating; and presbyterianism,
and quakerism; but I will not disguise from you, that had those things
never happened, I could never love, honor, and obey any man who did not
honor and obey our holy religion. That creature, whether male or female,
who has lived in this world even no longer than we have, (and God knows I
have lived long enough) must be radically wrong in heart, mind, or education,
who can suppose that we poor mortals were placed upon this earth to grope
our way, without a guide or light of any kind. Look Kato, at the wonderful
disproportion in the grasp of our minds and the duration of our lives. We
are but beginning to live as rational creatures when we are called upon to
die. Father tells me that his mind is maturing every day, and that he is
conscious of no diminution of mental vigor, and his head is silvered o'er with
age. His mind is actually climbing the steps of knowledge and science,
while his body is going fast down the hill of mortality to the grave. Would
it not be the bitterest mockery, if this were our only stage of existence.
Why should the mind grow brighter and brighter, as the body grows weaker
and weaker, if the mind was not to survive the struggle? No, no, Kate, John
and I, could never have been more to each other, than the children of old,
long tried friends.”

“You astonish as well as afflict me, Ellen, by this statement.”

“I know it, my dear Kate, but seeing how ignorant you all are, of the dangerous
precipice upon which he stands, could I be silent. I have debated the
matter with him, to the full extent of my poor capacity, but what can a heart-sick,
half educated girl do in an argument with a man like your brother—his
natural endowments of the highest order, and polished by the culture of the
schools. Don't you undertake the subject Kate, he will only play with your
woman's argument as the fisherman plays with the trout. Your brother is an
antagonist, powerful enough for Dr. Blair. Tell him of it, Kate, and let his
long tried wisdom select the time and the manner of combatting these pernicious
principles. Oh, I do hope he will be rescued before it is too late. I
could tell you more about your brother, but I have distressed you enough for
one occasion. Come, get ready for church, you are going to York with Dr.
Blair, I know. In the mean time, I will seek my own room and think over
all these things. Good day, Kate.

CHAPTER XII GOING TO CHURCH IN THE COUNTRY.

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About twelve o'clock, a long cavalcade drove up to Old-York Church.
First came the outriders, in livery, then the body guard of the Governor, in
full uniform. This corps, numbering about twenty-seven men, consisted mostly
of old veterans who had served with the Governor in his continental campaigns,
and one old fellow having a wooden leg. They were a martial looking
band, and had the appearance of having seen service. The Governor's
country establishment had a range of dormitories for these, and stables for
their horses, but he never called them out, except on something like
public occasions. Next came the family coach, drawn by four horses,
and managed by two postillions in livery, and behind which stood two
powdered footmen. The coach contained her ladyship and daughters,
with the Reverend Commissary in his canonicals. Then came
the Governor, flanked on one side by Dr. Evylin, and on the other by
little Bob on his poney. The remainder was composed of the carriages of
visitors, followed by the young gentlemen: and then again by the family
servants, two and two, on horseback, many of them also in livery, and all
scrupulously neat and clean.

We have already said, that it was a beautiful Sabbath morning, accordingly
the road from Temple Farm to York was lined with neatly dressed people,
going to hear the celebrated Divine then at the head of the Episcopal Church
in Virginia. Many were on horseback, but many more on foot, and all filed to
the right and left to let the cavalcade pass. Scarcely a pedestrian but touched
his hat, or bared his head entirely as his Excellency went by, while the
negroes did the same, grinning from ear to ear at the same time, at the display
made by the grooms in livery, and soldiers in uniform. Many a poor
family from the neighborhood of Temple Farm, greeted Kate and Dorothea,
with rude courtesy as they passed.

With all the middle and lower ranks the Governor and his family were very
popular, perhaps for the very reason, that he was now at deadly feud with
some of the largest and most influential families in the land. The time was
now rapidly approaching when this very favor of the plebeian ranks stood him
in great stead. The favorite scheme of his life—one for which he had perilled
his office—his influence—his standing—his fortune, having been accomplished
at last much through their means.

The old Church at York, was built like all those of that period in the shape
of a cross, and out of perhaps the strangest materials that ever entered into
the structure of a sacred edifice, or any other. These are square blocks hewn
from fossil shells, deeply imbedded in a basis of sand or marl stone, giving the
whole structure much the appearance of a toy house, built entirely of shells,
such as is seen often in the shops. Not that there was any thing puerile, or
beneath the dignity of a sacred edifice, in the general appearance of the
whole, for it was highly imposing, and must have looked grey and venerable,
when comparatively of recent structure. It stood on one of the highest
points of the town, commanding a prospect of the city of York, then one of
the first in importance in the Colony.

The party entered the main aisle, and proceeded to the two large pews set
apart for his Excellency's family, with the exception of Kate, who, attended by
Bernard Moore, and followed by a servant bearing an armful of music, entered
the gallery and took her station at the organ.

She greeted most sweetly the bevy of city damsels, forming the choir, and
taking the music from the servant, proceeded to distribute the score of the

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pieces she was about to play. Moore seated himself at a respectable distance
among the masculine voices, but it is questionable, whether his attention was
not too much absorbed by the instrumental music to follow the score very
closely. Kate seeing the old prelate enter, commenced her prelude. Even
the venerable old clergyman seemed lost in a pleasing reverie, while she
attuned the hearts of the congregation to a fitting mood to bow before the
throne of mercy.

It was a beautiful picture, o see that fair young ereature, so full of life,
and health, and high hope, bend in such profound humility at the mercy seat,
her pure white neck bent over the prayer book, and uttering the responses, with
such a heartfelt gratitude, that the words seemed to gush up with the emphasis
of her own fervid conceptions.

It was not so much that she felt the responsibility of her own position and
example at the head of the young ladies of that great Colony, as her own
inborn acknowledgment of the necessity of these stated confessions. A sense
of elevated position, and the force of example, are often talked largely of by
those in high places, but she knew and felt that these, to be of any avail,
must come from the heart; it is then, and only then, they reach the hearts of others.

The preacher chose a subject, in exact accordance not only with her views,
but her devotional feelings at the time. It was the sermon on the mount.
How it chimed in with Kate's previous thoughts, when the old man read
out slowly and solemnly, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for their's is the
Kingdom of Heaven.” It seemed as if her very inmost mind had been penetrated
by the preacher, and that the words of the text were only embodying
her own thoughts in appropriate language.

No better example in all that Church, whether among the gentry or plebeians,
could have been found of the very spirit blessed, than that fair daughter
of Virginia's aristocracy. She was indeed poor in spirit, as contra-distinguished
from mean in spirit. Much of her very grace and beauty, came
from that sweet humility, which seemed to be all unconscious of the graces
it inspired. A beautiful maiden, without the true Christian graces, is only a
beautiful animal at last, from the Venus de Medici to Pocahontas, before her
baptism; it requires the finishing touch of the divine spirit upon the heart, before
even the person becomes really lovely, in the highest acceptation of the term,
and that very grace spoken of by the preacher, she had; that humble, self-condemning,
self-sacrificing spirit, which seeks the lowest seat in the synagogue.
Kate Spotswood was a Christian; but she was scarcely conscious of
it, so truly had she taken to heart the first words of the sermon on the mount.
She had never even been confirmed, for the Commissary had not that power,
and as to her being a professed disciple, she never even dared to think herself
good enough. Often, during that solemn and heart-searching sermon, did the
silent tears steal down her unconscious face, and when it was concluded, she
looked round like one just waked up from a moving dream, so absorbed had
she been.

Bernard Moore, sad, wicked dog, as we fear our readers will consider him,
was sitting, leaning his head upon his hand, and gazing at the devout beauty,
and tracing the pearly dreps that stole from her eyelids with a true sympathy.
“How beautiful are the poor in spirit,” thought he. He admired religion
exceedingly, when the operations upon the heart, and mind, and person, were
thus exhibited; and, to do him justice, he had as high reverence for things
holy, as most of his order; but he was a gay young man of fortune for all
that. We shall see whether Kate proselyted him, as we progress with our
narrative.

“What an excellent sermon,” said she, as taking Bernard's arm in the gallery
to join her family, “it seemed to me, that I could see our Saviour's figure
in all its glorious majesty, proclaiming such welcome doctrines to the sons

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

and daughters of affliction on the earth, and such an unwelcome one to the
self-sufficient among the great and worldly-minded.”

“Excellent, indeed,” said he, “I never enjoyed a sermon more in my life,
and it was beautifully illustrated.”

“Yes, the imagery was grand indeed; that description of the mountain
scene must have touched papa upon a tender chord?”

“I did not allude to that exactly,” said Moore, slily “I meant rather to say,
that it was most happily personified.”

“Yes, I agree with you there too: never was precept better borne out by
personal example. Dear, good Dr. Blair, I love him almost as well as my
own father.”

“Still you do not take my meaning, though I agree with you on that point too.”

“To whom, then, do you allude?” looking enquiringly into his smiling
face, “not to me, surely?”

“Exactly and to no one else.”

“That is a far strained compliment, Mr. Moore; too much at variance with
truth and honesty for me to accept any part of it. How little you know my
heart, if you suppose me poor in spirit, in the true meaning of the preacher.
How little do you know its rebellion, its pride, its vanity, its self-deception, its
disingeniousness to others—me, poor in spirit, indeed! Why, I was suffering
the pains of self-condemnation, during the whole sermon, for lacking that
greatest essential in the Christian character, that very poverty of spirit so
admirably described.

By this time they had arrived at the door of the carriage, and Moore helped
her in, where the other ladies were already seated, and then mounted his
own horse, held ready by his servant, and followed on as they had come.

During their return to Temple Farm, the company had an accession of
Henry Lee, Esq. He was a tall, elegantly dressed young man, about the
same age as Moore and Carter, but with rather more form and ceremony in
his address, and rather more studied attention to his toilet, than distinguished
either of them. His features were large and sharp, but well formed, and
indicative of more than ordinary mental power. His hair was harsh and frizzled,
and set close to his head, so as to give it rather a clean cut, statuary
look. When he smiled, the man shone out in his own identity. His teeth
were very regular, except two projecting tusks at each corner, which gave a
harsh expression to his whole physiognomy, so that when he gave himself
up to the freest mood of relaxation, he appeared in reality more forbidding, than
when his face was in entire repose, for in the former case, there was a classic
air of high birth and breeding, under which the other peculiarities were
hidden. One single such guest, throws a damper over a whole company,
however much disposed to glee and hilarity. It is like a stream of cold air
blowing into a warm room, pile on the combustibles as much as you will, and
still the same chilling sensation comes over you.

How stately rode the representative of all the Lee's that day, followed by
two servants in livery, one bearing a portmanteau strapped to his saddle, as
large as a modern travelling appendage of the same sort for a whole family.

“Mama,” said Dorothea, her eye still fastened on the pompous young cavalier,
his cocked hat perched to its highest elevation upon his head. “Mama,
do you think Mr. Henry Lee is very poor in spirit?”

The old Commissary tried to look very grave, so as to suppress a fast coming
smile, while Lady Spotswood, looked out of the opposite window of the
carriage, so as to get her eye the farthest possibly removed from the person
spoken of, and thus smooth down her gravity before she replied.

“You should not apply the sermon just preached, to others, child, but to
yourself; do you not recollect the Pharisee?”

“La, mama, you have made the case worse, who could look at that young

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

gentleman now, and not imagine to himself, that he was saying `Lord I thank
thee that I am not as other men.”'

The Commissary was compelled to laugh in spite of himself, in which
Kate and her mother now, joined with hearty good will. The picture was
too true and too happily applied, to be resisted; it was like a fortunate stroke
of a painter's pencil, which completes the likeness, and little Dorothea sat
and viewed her work, with a complacency, which nearly upset the prelate
every time he turned towards her. Now tossing her head—exactly as the
gentleman mentioned, tossed his, and now waving a hand with a majestic air,
and presently inserting a thumb under the edge of her stomacher, as he placed
his in the arm hole of his vest. So inimitable was her mimicry, that the good
Commissary begged her to desist, lest he should arrive at home, in a plight
very unbecoming a minister of the gospel, just descended from the sacred
desk.

Even after a long silence, there was a flushed appearance of the whole four,
when they alighted from the carriage, which excited the curiosity of Moore.
He wondered what could have changed their mood so suddenly after he left
them. Kate would not, or could not tell, but broke away and ran into the
house, referring him to Dorothea for an explanation. Dorothea promised at
some other time, that she would go over the whole story, but now she could
not, for papa was shaking his finger at her. “Don't you know,” she whispered,
“that Mr. Lee has a vote in the house of Burgesses.” Papa says I
must learn to be a politician, or I shall frighten away all his political friends.

The party separated to dress for dinner, that great affair of the twenty-four
hours in the Old Dominion.