®t)e Xiftrarp 
 
 of tf)e 
 
 Wbxiottiitp of ^rtt) Carolina 
 
 CnbotDeb b? tBf^t jStaltctit 
 
 anb 
 
 ^tlantijropu i^onetttn 
 
 813 
 M4G8ci 
 
DIFFERENCES, 
 
 JL 3^0^7"E: 
 
 J. 
 
 BY NA THAN MA YEB, M. D. 
 
 CINCINNATI, OIIIO: 
 
 BLOCH A CO., PUBLISHERS, BOOK <ft JOB PRINTKB9. 
 
 1867. 
 
Entered according to Act of Coogress. in the Clerk's 
 Office of the Southern District of Ohio, in the year 
 1S67, by BxocH & Co. 
 
mam garolim 
 
 DIFFERENCES. 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HERE is a glitter and a 
 fragrance in the mere name 
 of the South, which are 
 associated with sunny skies 
 exuberant vegetation. Like 
 a Nile of the new world the Mis- 
 •sissippi pours its vast stream ; 
 it is bordered by bluffs, that are 
 pyramids of God's own making ; 
 and in their soil repose chieftains, 
 that have never been tyrants, surrounded 
 by warriors, that have never been slaves. 
 
 These exquisitely German reflections pas- 
 sed through the mind of Louis Wellaod, as 
 the steamer Powhattan, on which he was a 
 passenger, approached the wharves of 
 Memphis. It was precisely the most inap- 
 
 V:< 
 
 SSTi7<9- 
 
 /^"/(^SU 
 
4 Differences. 
 
 propriate time in the world to indulge in 
 reflections. He should have looked after 
 his baggage. For the baggage room was in- 
 undated by sharp Yankees and gentleman- 
 ly blacklegs, who took their pick of " the 
 goods the Gods provided," without refer- 
 ence to human institutions of proprietor- 
 ship and entirely regardless of the protests 
 of the sable baggage master. 
 
 But, while this went on below, Welland 
 stood upon the deck, contemplating in rap- 
 ture the gorgeous skies, that were steeped 
 in the mellow colors of evening, and the 
 busy town, which lay in a ring of country, 
 ** exceeding fair to see." To some extent 
 all Germans are poets, and to some extent 
 all poets are fools. Fools in the practical 
 dollar and cent life, though princes of wis- 
 dom in the realms of the soul. Full of 
 ideals, they never realize the wickedness of 
 the actual world, and though this may be 
 folly,it is happiness. Thus, Louis Welland 
 was far from supposing that one person car- 
 ried off his umbrella, while another appro- 
 priated his books ; yet such was the case. 
 And when he finally stepped ashore, it was 
 not with reminiscences of the magnificent 
 river and the luminous skies but with re- 
 grets for the lost property, 
 
 A negro, the color of a well used saddle, 
 and who might have been one, for any evi- 
 dence to the contrary offered by the olfac- 
 tories, proffered his services for the trans- 
 port of the rest of his baggage. They were 
 accepted. Under his guidance Welland ar- 
 
 -fm- 
 
2^'.^ 
 
 DiFFERJENCES. 5 
 
 rived at the Metropolitan Hotel, and was 
 safely put in possession of a room Avith 
 poky furniture, a stuffy bed, and an atmos- 
 phere stiflingly hot. The evidences of the 
 last lodger's ablutions were still visible in 
 the wash-basin, and cigar ashes diversilied 
 the monotony of the mantle-shelf. 
 
 While the young man opens his trunk, 
 and attends to the duties of t\xQ petite ioW^iX, 
 which, with people of breeding, precedes 
 each meal, we will furnish the reader with 
 a sketch of his outward appearance. 
 
 A littlft above the medium height^ with 
 the ohest of a Heroules, and the waist of a 
 lieutenant of the guards, Wellandhad that 
 elegance of appearance, which results from 
 perfect s-ymmetry of form. An elegance 
 that,, be it casually observed, is inborn and 
 can never be ^acquired. His face proved 
 that his descent was not purely. Teutonic, 
 but that, there mingled with his blood a 
 Southern or Eastern current. We have all 
 seen those faces, and no one who has ever 
 admired the beauty of the men of Lombar- 
 dy, will find it difficult to recall them. Fea- 
 tures of classic regularity, with the thin 
 sj^raight nose and transparent nostrils that 
 bespeak the pride of the Deval, and the 
 broad beautiful brow, that beams with the 
 loftiness of an angel. A complexion of a 
 pure dead white, rarely disturbed by the 
 faintest blush imaginable ; deep dark eyes ; 
 eyebrows as if drawn in ink ; wavy curls 
 of black hair ; and a full sensuous mouth, 
 surmounted by a small dark moustache! 
 
G Differences. 
 
 Having given the final polish to hands long 
 and white as those of a woman, he descen- 
 ded to the supper table. 
 
 Who has not seen the feeding of the free 
 and great American, at the tables of the 
 caravansaries that accommodate our travel- 
 ing public ? Who has not observed the pro- 
 cess, by which the greatest possible amount 
 of food is, in the least possible time, trans- 
 ferred from the plate to the stomach of the 
 mightiest nation on the globe ? We all 
 have, and therefore we can all imagine the 
 scene upon which Welland entered. Eat- 
 ing slow — for he M'as Epicurean in his 
 tastes, by right of his double descent — 
 he found himself at last left alone at table 
 with another gentleman. This was a hale 
 hearty man, one of those stout gents that 
 always have small bright blue e5'es,a large 
 nose, and gray hair enough sprinkled 
 about, to give an air of infinite respectabili- 
 ty to the countenance. 
 
 " We are left in possession," remarked he 
 of the stout figure, nodding good humored- 
 ly to Welland. 
 
 ** Of w^hat they do not want," replied Wel- 
 land, who was surrounded with bastions of 
 emptied dishes. 
 
 " Oh yes, it is a perfect game of grab here 
 at every meal," said the stranger. 
 
 " A fit type of the life, I suppose." 
 
 *' You are an observer it seems, and per- 
 haps a thinker." 
 
 " Both to such au extent that I did not 
 observe my books being carried off when I 
 
Differences. 7 
 
 landed, and forgot the habits of the Ameri- 
 can uhen I delayed descending to supper." 
 ** By your opinions and language I judge 
 you to be a German. Is it so ? Few Ameri- 
 cans pronounce English with the exactness, 
 which well bred Europeans are in the habit 
 of using." 
 
 "You have judged correctly. Are you a 
 German? " 
 
 "I am, but not a University man. I 
 have therefore acquired the patois of the 
 country with more facility." 
 
 Welland smiled. "Is it indiscreet to in- 
 quire whether you live here." 
 
 ** Not at all. I live here and do business 
 on a considerable scale. My name is Reich- 
 enau." 
 
 " Thank you. My name is Welland, and 
 I have come here to accept of a position as 
 Surveyor from the State Government." 
 
 They rose and walked the veranda, for 
 a half hour or so conversing on different 
 subjects. 
 
 It was in June 1860, and the causes that 
 finally produced the great Rebellion, were 
 even then apparent to the observing mind. 
 People are mistaken in believing that the 
 late war was an afi"airlong anticipated, and 
 prepared for by the South. To us it has al- 
 ways borne the character of a spontaneous 
 popular outburst, which, in its magnitude 
 and duration proved how immense, and 
 how deeply rooted the popular antipathies 
 were. It was not difficult then, to find mat- 
 ter for conversation, and the two men final- 
 ly parted with mutual good will. 
 
8 Differences. 
 
 It was late in the evening. Welland had 
 thrown away the book which he had been 
 reading. Sunk in meditation, the events of 
 his past life were conjured up in turn, and 
 gladdened or saddened him, as the aspect 
 was gay or sorrowful. 
 
 He seemed to gaze into a large garden 
 glowing in the mellow afternoon light. 
 There was an old and blackened board 
 fence, upon which the heavy leafed vines 
 clambered and hung, and there was a broad 
 border of starry forget-me-nots around the 
 garden. The apple and pear trees waved 
 their branches, and rosebushes hung over 
 the Malks, heavy with fragrant blossoms. 
 A lady armed with scissors was gathering 
 a magnificent boquet, and a bright boy car- 
 ried the basket, which received the culled 
 flowers. The lady was his mother, the boy 
 himself. 
 
 And the picture changed. There was a 
 wide plain all covered with snow ; at one 
 end an enclosure made by a low stone wall^ 
 upon the top of which lay glittering pyra- 
 mids of ice. The inclosure was dotted with 
 tomb-stones, that were brilliant in a fringe- 
 work of icicles. In a corner yawned an open 
 grave, black and dismal. The boy stood 
 there weeping bitterly, and supported by a 
 tall stern man, his uncle. The wind moan- 
 ed, and the trees shivered. They were bury- 
 ing his mother. 
 
 Still another picture. A long low room 
 brightly illuminated. Queerly painted 
 shields and banners hung from the walls. 
 
DiFFEKENCES. 9 
 
 A table divided tl)e entire length of the 
 apartment, and around it were seated stu- 
 dents, in all the fontastic garbs of German 
 University fraternities. They were holding 
 high carousal. At the head of the table 
 stood a young man in whom the resem- 
 blance to Welland was evident, and with 
 the rapier in one hand and a cup in the oth- 
 er he proposed a toast. Loud cheers fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Again a change. Under the trees of the 
 green forest, with the blue sky and the 
 moon high above them, a number of men 
 grouped around a fire. Some were pro- 
 vided withgoodcloaks, others were in tat- 
 ters. All had arms, and though there were 
 but few muskets, there was no lack of 
 scythes and iron bars. The leader stood 
 close to the fire, leaning upon his sabre. It 
 was Welland, a captain in the Revolution- 
 ary army of 1848. They have been sent on 
 a special errand by General Miroslawsky ; 
 they were to intercept a party of soldiers, 
 guarding rreasur • uoiodoiiu to govern- 
 ment. Now the bell of the neighboring vil- 
 lage rings out eleven o'clock, and the lead- 
 er gives the signal to advance. The fire is 
 extinguished, and the figures disappear in 
 the darkness of the forest. But not for long. 
 There is a road winds through these woods, 
 with the moon gleaming white on its long 
 and dusty trail. Tramp, tramp, advances 
 the guard, with their muskets at shoulder, 
 and the cart laden with treasure in their 
 midst. A shot, and then another ! A wild 
 
10 Differences. 
 
 hurrah, and a furious attack ! The soldiery- 
 has been cut down or driven off, and the 
 treasure, claimed as public property by the 
 Revolutionary Army, has been secured. 
 Captain Welland has done well. 
 
 And the saddest of changes. The loss of 
 the money — the dishonoring suspicion-^the 
 flight through Switzerland — the confiscation 
 of his patrimony to refund Government — 
 the life in New York — the struggle and the 
 combat with the realities of a world not 
 dreamt of at University — All these Welland 
 waved away, as he leapt up, and rushed to 
 the window, to dispel his dreams and quiet 
 his mind, by a vision of the calm still night. 
 And behold, the Mississippi flowed in un- 
 dying beauty and grandeur, and the con- 
 stellations of another hemisphere smiled 
 upon him from the tent of heaven. 
 
 CHAPTER ir. 
 WELiiAND could not remain in the dingy 
 apartment, but opened a door which led to 
 the veranda that encircles each story of a 
 Southern building. Here the air was cool, 
 and the breeze that fanned his brow was 
 laden with the sweet breath of the woods 
 beyond the river ; it was fragrant w^ith the 
 odor of the starry dogwood, the intoxica- 
 ting azaleas, and the golden jessamines. 
 Deceptive pleasure ! Upon the wings of the 
 Southern evening breeze are borne not only 
 the perfumes of flowers, but also the ema- 
 nations of marshes and swamps, that creep 
 
Differences. 11 
 
 into the blood, and poison life. It salutes 
 the stranger with the kiss of a Syren, sweet 
 but fatal. 
 
 Proceeding on the veranda our friend 
 passed completely around the house. At 
 first, he was too much absorbed by his re- 
 flections, to pay attention to external ob- 
 jects. But when he made the circuit for the 
 third and fourth time, it was impossible to 
 avoid noticing an open door, from which 
 streamed a mass of light, on that side of the 
 house, opposite to the one in which his 
 room was situated. When he passed for the 
 fifth time, he looked in. It was one of the 
 private parlors of the hotel, furnished in a 
 plain and elegant manner. Four jets of gas 
 threw^ a brilliant light on a group of young 
 men, who were seated around a table in 
 the center. Empty bottles on a stand gave 
 evidence of the humor of the party. As 
 Welland again passed, his nervous irrita- 
 tion, which made solitude irksome,prompt- 
 ed him to enter. He conceived it to be a 
 public room. The well bred stare, which 
 was occasioned by his intrusion, informed 
 him otherwise. 
 
 '* Accept my apologies," said he, pre- 
 paring to retreat, " I thought this a public 
 room." 
 
 " Pray, consider it so," replied one of the 
 young men M'ith ready courtesy. ««We 
 shall be happy to have your company." 
 
 It was said with such a charming air of 
 affability, that Welland took the proffered 
 seat, and made one of the circle. 
 
12 Differences. 
 
 "Will you join our game, or temain a 
 lookex' on ? " inquired the young man, upon 
 "Whom Welland's appearance Ijad made a 
 favorable impression. 
 
 " The latter if you please," replied he. 
 " I owe you thanks for your invitation, for 
 lam in a mood, when solitude is unbeara- 
 ble." 
 
 The young man bowed. " You will at 
 least accept a glass of wine ? You know- 
 that the first promptings of our Southern 
 hospitality are to ask a stranger to drink." 
 
 *• I will gladly drink with you." 
 
 Glasses were filled, and clinked in the 
 French manner, and then the party, which 
 consisted of four, resumed their game, 
 while Welland became a spectator. These 
 young men had quietly recognized each oth- 
 er by the Free Masonry of good society, and 
 found further introduction or inquiry after 
 names superfluous. 
 
 They were playing Brag. Brag is an ex- 
 quisitely Western game. It is the life on 
 the prairies S3Mnbolized in cards. It is the 
 daring of the pioneer expressed in a game. 
 The principle that he, whose finger is first 
 on the trigger, is the best man, obtains in 
 Brag as well as in pioneer life. The staking 
 of everything upon one's OAvn courage, or 
 rather upon the intimidation of the oppo- 
 nt: 1, is ihe pj eminent feature of this 
 game, as well as of other undertakings in 
 the far West. 
 
 Fortune has little to do with this game. 
 A temerity that prompts one to risk all ; a 
 
/ 4 7'^ ^i''*^ 
 
 Differences. 13 
 
 countenance of marble that changes not ; 
 an eye steady, and observant; a voice quiet 
 and tirni and a readiness to resort to revol- 
 ver and bowie knife; — these are the condi- 
 tions of winning at Brag, and making a 
 fortune in the far West. 
 
 It is not surprising that this game is as 
 popular in the Western wild, as Rouge et 
 Koir is at the centers of civilization. The 
 savage and the exhausted man of the world 
 require both the most maddening excite- 
 ment. The Indian drinks Alcohol, and so 
 does the refined toper, on whose palate the 
 mellow wines have lost their taste. Half 
 tints of pleasure, and moderate phases of 
 excitement are deemed sufficient by neith- 
 er. 
 
 They had been staking moderate sums, 
 and played with various success, when a 
 step approached the door, and another en- 
 tered. 
 
 "Excuse me gentlemen," said the new- 
 comer, •' but I can never resist offering to 
 j< in a partj', when they are playing-cards," 
 and he moved a chair to the table. 
 
 It was evident the company was a little 
 discomposed, by this unceremonious meth- 
 od of introduction, but they were too well 
 bred to urge objections. 
 
 "Will you take a hand," asked the deal- 
 er, as he shuffled the cards and prepared to 
 deal them. 
 
 " Certainly Sir, take it, and bet on it too," 
 returned the stranger with complacency. 
 
 He must have been thirty five or forty 
 
14 Differences. 
 
 3'ears of age. Somebody has said, that every 
 human countenance, Avith a little exaggera- 
 tion, may be brought to present a striking 
 likeness to the face of some animal. This 
 principle applied in the present case, would 
 bring the stranger in the category of weas- 
 els, with a shade of the fox. An idea of 
 subtility and cunning was inseparable from 
 the features. 
 
 The game underwent a change. The 
 light hearted company of Southern plan- 
 ters, or planters' sons— for such they were — 
 seemed at once animated, not by a desire 
 for amusement as before, but by a thirst 
 for gain. Betting rose. Eyes grew large 
 and feverish, and bright hectic flushes dab- 
 bled the sallow cheeks. Tne money was 
 insufficient, and memorandum notes w^ere 
 scrawled hastily, and staked. The stran- 
 ger seemed to infuse a new spirit into the 
 game. 
 
 It was certainly to his advantage. A 
 heap of notes attested his success in betting, 
 and more than one of the scrawled certifi- 
 cates of indebtedness had found its waj' to 
 his pocket. It seemed a pitched battle be- 
 tween him and the young man, who had 
 welcomed Welland so cordially. It is true, 
 the young man was his own master, and 
 could therefore bet with more impunity 
 than the others. But the battle always en- 
 ded in favor of the stranger. 
 
 Welland was exceedingly attentive. An 
 impression obtained in his mind, that he 
 had seen the stranger somewhere, long 
 
/ 
 
 Differences. 15 
 
 years ago. Still he could not place him; 
 but the more he endeavored to rid himself 
 of the idea, the stronger grew the feeling of 
 deep distrust he entertained towards this 
 person. He was recalled from his dreams 
 by the excited voices of the players. 
 
 "Five thousand on my hand," cried the 
 planter. 
 
 " And one thousand better," replied the 
 stranger, cooll3\ 
 
 " Four thousand better," rejoined the 
 planter, excitedly, as he threw a demand 
 note for ten thousand dollars on the table. 
 
 ** And ten thousand better," said the 
 stranger, drawing a roll of thousand dollar 
 bills from his pocket. 
 
 ** I can't risk it," sighed his opponent. 
 But Welland who had watched the stranger 
 narrowly, whispered: 
 
 •' Call him, at my risk." 
 
 The planter obeyed. The hands were 
 shown out. He had three tens ; the stran- 
 ger laid down his cards, and behold — Three 
 Queens ! 
 
 Then occurred a remarkable thing. As 
 the stranger displayed his cards, Welland 
 by a sudden movement, as irresistible as 
 it was unexpected, struck his hand to the 
 table, and with such force, that it was par- 
 alyzed for a moment ; at the same instant, 
 with the dexterity of a juggler, he extri- 
 cated two cards from his sleeve, and ex- 
 hibited them to the company. 
 
 There was a pause of deep surprise, fol- 
 lowed by a burst of fury. 
 
16 Differences. 
 
 "Cheat! Blackleg! Scoiindiei! " were 
 the epithets, which fell like hail on the head 
 of the offender. 
 
 But the planter who had bet so high, seiz- 
 ed him by the collar, and said in a deep 
 voice, frigid with restrained rage : 
 
 " Deliver up every note, and every cent 
 you have won here to-night." 
 
 The man assumed a sullen look and hes- 
 itated. 
 
 "Do you hear me, scoundrel ? " roared 
 the planter shaking him as a tiger might 
 worr%' a fox. 
 
 "I am sure you speak load enough," re- 
 turned the other; "and if you will leave 
 off throttling me, I will restore all I won 
 honestly, because in one game where I tried 
 to trick you, I had the misfortune to be dis- 
 covered." 
 
 " You dirty dog ! You deserve to be lash- 
 ed with a cowhide within an inch of your 
 life!" 
 
 " If all men were to receive their deserts, 
 how many of you would escape punish- 
 ment? " 
 
 " By Jove the rogue grows philosophical. 
 Have you all got back your notes and 
 money?" 
 
 All said they had. 
 
 " And here are mine. Xow we come to 
 another chapter. Whom did you defraud 
 of the money you exhibited here to-night? 
 Confess?" 
 
 " You are master of the situation, it is 
 true," said the gambler,sullenly, "but this 
 
Differences. 17 
 
 does not entitle you to inquire where my 
 money came from. It is mine, or not mine, 
 as it happens. But it is in my profession,' 
 and there is no one I have playod Brag with, 
 in the State of Tennessee, besides you." 
 
 "Let this suffice," urged Welland, who 
 had now recognized the stranger. " Let 
 him go, my denr Sir, and ieave to the police 
 the task of punishing cheats." 
 
 " As you wish it— certainly," replied the 
 planter. " Let me express our gratitude for 
 the service you have rendered to-night, and 
 for myself let me request a continuance of 
 the acquaintance. May I call upon you to- 
 morrow morning? " 
 
 " 1 shall be happy to see you." 
 
 The gambler in the meanwhile had dis- 
 appeared. After finishing another bottle 
 of v/ine, which somewhat restored the spir- 
 its of the party, the young men bid each 
 other good night, and retired to their res- 
 pective ai^artments. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 It was soon after breakfast next morning, 
 that Welland made his way to the office of 
 the State official, through whom he had re- 
 ceived his appointment, and under whose 
 direction he was to work. The engagement 
 was ratified in all respects, and to th° great 
 satisfaction of the young man. But the 
 work he was put upon would take him to a 
 distant part of Tennessee. He was to sur- 
 vey the north eastern border of the state, 
 
18 Differences. 
 
 especially Claiborne County. Wellandwas 
 not sorry for this, as his long sojourn in a 
 city like New York hpd created a longing 
 for the country with its green woods, fresh 
 fields, and clear skies. This longing, be it 
 casually observed, is a petted feeling among 
 townfolks, who fain imagine that they 
 •would delight in endless sojourns in the 
 country, and never get tired of the woods, 
 the skies, and the wild flowers. No delu- 
 sion is more fascinating,and more transient. 
 Town habits and town acquaintances may 
 bore us occasionally, but there is no bore so 
 utterly unbearable as the country, and the 
 magnificent still-life of nature, after the 
 novelty of first acquaintance has worn off. 
 
 Having received his instructions, the 
 young man returned to the hotel, and had 
 scarce entered his apartment, when the wai- 
 ter followed him and delivered a card. 
 
 "The gentleman is in theparlor," said he, 
 in reply to Welland's look of inquiry. 
 
 The card bore the name of : 
 
 M,tmik ^outitlottt, 
 
 Claiborne County. 
 
 Upon the reverse was written ; Begs to 
 renew the acquaintance of last evening. 
 
 Welland was highly pleased with this 
 mark of attention, and descended imme- 
 diately to welcome the caller. 
 
 It was the planter of the evening before. 
 
DiFFERENCBS. 39 
 
 Fi'ank Tourtelotte, as his name shows, was 
 the descendant of a French family of Lou- 
 isiana, which by some chance or other had 
 in the course of years been transplanted to 
 Tennessee. They possessed extensive es- 
 tates in Claiborne county. Frank, who had 
 been educated in Louisiana, possessed all 
 the grace of French manners, with all the 
 fanciful noblesse that is a special attribute 
 of the Gallic nation. These qualities were 
 tempered however by good practical com- 
 mon sense, and a little of "Western ferocity. 
 He was tall and slim, with a brunette com- 
 plexion, and eyes and hair to suit. The fea- 
 tures were good, and the lips of a remarka- 
 bly bright Vermillion. As in all French 
 faces nobility of features and capacity of 
 expression constituted" the chief charm. 
 
 "How have you slept?" inquired Mr. 
 Tourtelotte, meeting Welland with an ex- 
 tended palm. 
 
 " Quite well, thank you. And you ? " 
 
 '' Much the better for your interference 
 last night. I could ill have afforded to lose 
 twenty thousand dollars at this time." 
 
 "The loss can not be indifferent at 'dixy 
 moment," replied Welland,. " especially 
 in such a cause." 
 
 " I bow to your Northern prejudices. Brag 
 is certainly a game of maddening excite- 
 ment. But we Southerners drain every cup 
 of pleasure to the dregs, instead of sipping, 
 and making it last a life time, as you do." 
 
 Welland merely assented, preferring 
 
 2* 
 
20 Differences. 
 
 not to enter into a discussion of the differ- 
 ences between the two sections. 
 
 Tourtelotte understood the other's reserve, 
 and changed the topic of conversation. j 
 
 " How was it possible for you to detect i 
 
 the cheating of that rascal ? I thought I had { 
 
 observed him pretty closely, but could seo j 
 
 nothing amiss." 1 
 
 " By simply looking at his hands, in- j 
 
 stead of his eyes. In Brag such close ob- 
 servation of faces seems necessary, that the , 
 player has no leisure to follow the move- 
 ments of the hand. Is a cheat so accom- 
 plished, that he can execute motions of the 
 fingers without showing the least conscious- 
 ness thereof in his face and eyes, it becomes 
 easy to fleece his victims." 
 
 " What you say has an air of probabili- 
 ty. Do you know that he waited on me 
 this morning, and apologized? " 
 
 " Indeed ? What impertinence ! " 
 
 " Yes, it was rather cool. The fellow 
 claims that the money he played with, is 
 part of the funds of a political Committee 
 in this state. He is employed by the party 
 in question, and rather poor, and the temp- 
 tation of realizing something for himself, 
 Avas evidently too much for his conscience." 
 
 *' You take a kind view of the subject. I 
 have seen the fellow before." 
 
 *' You have ? " Why did you not men- 
 tion it? Am I permitted to ask whether it 
 was under similar circumstances? " 
 
 " Not exactly. It was in the Revolution." 
 
 " In the Revolution?" 
 
DiFFEKENCES. 21 
 
 " Of the year 1848. In Germany. I was 
 captain ol' a company of soldiers, if the ill- 
 assorted mob of students and peasants, 
 idealists and plunderers which composed 
 it, arc entitled to the name." 
 
 •'And this man was in your company?" 
 
 •* He was my lieutenant. His disappear- 
 ance was connected with a singular cir- 
 cumstance." 
 
 "lam encroaching on private matters, 
 and subjects that pain j^on. Pray iorgive 
 me," said Tourtelotte, and with a motion 
 full of grace he took Welland's hand. 
 " But, if j'ou knew how deep an interest 
 I take in you ! " 
 
 " Thank you. This is a painful circum- 
 stance to me. I was in charge of money 
 plundered from the War Fund of the Ene- 
 my, w'hich disappeared suddenly. But I 
 will not attach suspicion to any one, for, our 
 cause was falling, and every body looked 
 for safety in flight. These are old-world 
 alTairs that I am telling you. That Revo- 
 lution is scarce remembered in this coun- 
 try." 
 
 " You are right. Let the past take- eare 
 of its sorrow's." 
 
 " But their spirits will not vanish from 
 memory." 
 
 "Tljere is a patent spell to lay them : 
 Pleasure." 
 
 " For the rich and the idle. For the poor 
 and the thinker there is another." 
 
 *'And that is?" 
 
 "Work." 
 
22 DiFFEREXCES. 
 
 Tourtelotte shrugged his shoulders. " In 
 this section where we delegate labor to the 
 negro, your spell has not the noble sound 
 it would bear in New York, with Astors and 
 Vanderbilts to attest its success." 
 
 " Perhaps. Still the gardner enjoys more 
 pleasure in tending his trees and seeing the 
 fruit develop, than the Svbarite in eating 
 it." 
 
 *' It may be. But the latter does not pay 
 -the price of labor for his enjoyment. How- 
 ever we have gotten upon the old social 
 question of labor versus capital, they call 
 it in this country — of idleness versus drud- 
 gery I name it. You are a stranger here?" 
 
 "I am. I have accepted the post of sur- 
 veyor, and am directed to .go to Claiborno 
 County, and begin my labors there." 
 
 "Capital, we shall be neighbors." 
 
 " I perceive that you reside in the same 
 county." 
 
 "I shall havft the happiness of introdu- 
 cing you to my friends." 
 
 *' Thanks," cried Welland, while a glow 
 of pleasure spread over his countenance. 
 "I shall not then -remain a stranger in 
 the wilds of Tennessee." 
 
 " You^shall certainly not remain a stran- 
 ger in Claiborne County. As for the wilds 
 of Tennessee, they are not to be found in 
 that locality." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Welland, 
 with a noble expression of humility and a 
 bow to Tourtelotte. " I might have imag- 
 ined what sort of wilds there were in Clai- 
 
Differences. 23 
 
 borne County, from the specimen of its sav- 
 age inhabitants I have been so fortunate to 
 become acquainted with." 
 
 Tourtelotte bowed gracefully, in return 
 for the compliQient. 
 
 " I am compelled to remain in Memphis 
 yet awhile. When do you set out? " 
 
 "To-morrow, if possible." 
 
 " You must let me perform my duty by 
 letter then. I shall be pleased if you will 
 accept of a letter of introduction to my 
 next neighbors, the Goldmans. Their plan- 
 tation adjoins mine, and I feel quite at 
 home with them, because they have more 
 appreciation for my French tastes than the 
 rest of my friends. As a further recom- 
 mendation, I may mention that the old 
 people are Germans born," 
 
 " The old people? " inquired Welland. 
 
 "Yes Mr. and Mrs. Goldman, Miss 
 Goldman and her brother were born in 
 New Orleans and are Creoles in taste, ap_ 
 pearance and manner. The brother is now 
 traveling but Miss Goldman is at home." 
 
 There was a hesitation in his manner 
 when he mentioned Miss Goldman, and an 
 earnest look in his eyes, which left little 
 doubt of the nature of his feeling toward 
 the young lady. 
 
 "I am much obliged. You are truly 
 kind." 
 
 " I should be to one who has saved me 
 twenty thousand dollars," 
 
 "If it be a mere sense of my claims to 
 your gratitude, I beg you to forget it," re- 
 plied Welland, proudl3^ 
 
24 Differences. 
 
 '* Your pardon ! It was coarsely express- 
 ed. Honor me wirh your friendship, and I 
 ■will try to deserve it." 
 
 Welland merely pressed the hand of the 
 enthusiastic Tourtelotte, and then excused 
 himself on the plea of having to prepare 
 for his departure. 
 
 They apjiointed a meetinj:^ fur the evening 
 ■when Tourtelotte offered to have the letier 
 of introduction ready. Then the young 
 men parted with great cordiality. 
 
 As Welland entered his room a man fol- 
 lowed him. He turned and discovered the 
 gambler of the night before. Frowning he 
 drew himself up and said : 
 • "Sir?" 
 
 **I beg your pardon if the moment is ill- 
 chosen," said the stranger, glibly. " But I 
 must have some conversation with you." 
 
 " Must," repeated Welland. " And after 
 the scene of yesterday evening? " 
 
 "Precisely,' returned the stranger. 
 "You have beeu the cause of my losing 
 more than twenty five thousand dollars, 
 and have damaged my character in addi- 
 tion." 
 
 "One moment. The money was never 
 yours, and the character was gone, before I 
 made its condition public." 
 
 " That is a mere quibble. You have ruin- 
 ed me." 
 
 "Havel? What then?" 
 
 " What thon ? " cried the gambler, fu- 
 riously. But Welland immediately collared 
 him, and said: 
 
Differences. 25 
 
 " Sfeak in this tone, fellow, ami I'll throw 
 you out of the window." 
 
 It was certainly no very fearful threat, 
 f«ir the window opened on the verandah. 
 Still it seemed to have its effect, for the 
 gambler rejoined in a hnmble voice. 
 
 "Still so proud and passionate. Captain 
 Welland! We have known each other be- 
 fore." 
 
 " Dare you allude to a connection that 
 ended as ours did ? " 
 
 "I must. Let us make a treaty, Sir. Let 
 me alone. Dont interfere with me, and I 
 wont trouble you. I came here to say that 
 to you." 
 
 " You wont trouble me ? You are very 
 kind." 
 
 ** Don't imagine yourself so impregnable, 
 Mr. Welland. You are a man of honor, a 
 man whom shame like that which fell on 
 me last night would kill." 
 
 "You deign to be complimentary," said 
 Welland, with a sneer of ineffable scorn. 
 
 " Not at all. For honor is a weakness." 
 
 " Which you have conquered." 
 
 " I have. But yot^have not. If therefore 
 I should hint about the loss of certain 
 moneys in your charge during the Revolu- 
 tionary war of 1848, and about the suspi- 
 cions this gave rise to, it might damage 
 your character pretty extensively ; espe- 
 cially as you could not deny the fact, nor at 
 this distant period bring any explanatory 
 evidence." 
 
 " And what would it all amount to ? " 
 
26 Differences. 
 
 *' Not much to me if I were in your case, 
 but a good deal to you. 1 would snap my 
 fingers at people, but you would shrink 
 from the whispering tongue and the avert- 
 ed eye, and sutfer under the cold stare of 
 suspicious minds." 
 
 Welland approached him and laid his 
 hand upon his shoulder. *' Hassel," he 
 said, •• Hassel " 
 
 " Hazelton, if you please, for that is my 
 name now." 
 
 *• Hazelton," repeated Welland, ** you 
 were once a student — you belonged to a 
 fraternity — you fought for liberty and right. 
 I will not, can not believe, that you are 
 sunk so deeply in the moral scale, as you 
 profess to be. It is impossible for a man, 
 that once nourished the aspirations which 
 animated you, to become a scoundrel, and 
 live by cheating his fellows." 
 
 A tremor passed over Hassel's features. 
 His eyes were cast down. ** Welland," he 
 said.in a choked voice, " a man with a firm 
 control of his passions, like you, knows 
 not what love of pleasure, and extravagant 
 habits may make of one, who has a vague 
 idea of honor, and who has been cut adrift 
 by all he ever cared for." 
 
 "Cut adrift by all he ever cared for?" 
 Had you not parents, that were wrapped up 
 in you? " 
 
 He lifted his eyes gloomily. " My father 
 is an old official, and his father was an offi- 
 cial before him. Loyalty to his King is 
 with my father, the duty next to obedience 
 
Differences. 27 
 
 to God. When I joined the revolutionary 
 army, both my parents renounced me, nor 
 have I heard of them since." 
 
 •'And Ernestine? She, whom you loved 
 so passionately? Was the memory of that 
 love not sufficient to keep you honest? Can 
 a man who loves, become a scoundrel? " 
 
 Hassel's eyes grew heavy with tears. 
 " You tear my heart," he said. *' The pic- 
 ture of that sweet angel is my only conso- 
 lation, and that she has loved me, is the re- 
 deeming point in my history." 
 
 •' Is she deid then?" Welland asked, 
 deeply touched. 
 
 ♦♦ Dead to me. Oh, that I were dead 
 too ! " 
 
 ** No, Hassel. There is good in you yet. 
 It is carelessness, and shiftlessness that 
 have made you a cheat, not love of crime, 
 or a mean heart. Reform, work, and live 
 by honest means." 
 
 " It is too late," replied the other, re- 
 gaining his former composure. ** I am just 
 as shiftless, and as careless, and as extra- 
 vagant, and as pleasure-loving as ever. 
 The same qualit es would again bring 
 about my fall. Let me alone. Give me up 
 as a lost soul." 
 
 ** But you can redeem all, if you only 
 will." 
 
 "Well then, I will not. Filial aflfection, 
 love, honor, a student's aspirations, and a 
 patriot's hopes, I have thrown them all 
 into the ocean, when I left Europe." 
 
 "Don't say so, Hassel." 
 
2S Differences. 
 
 " Call mo Hazelton, and let us return to 
 the subject in hand. Will you let me alone, 
 and when we do meet, treat me as you 
 would any stranger?" 
 
 "I shall try to avoid you, because! shrink 
 from seeing your degradation. Keep out 
 of my path, and I will try to forget j'ou," 
 
 "That is all I ask. But if you disturb 
 me, remember, that all meaus are legal iu 
 self-defence." 
 
 CHAPTER TV. 
 
 Welland had been surveying for two 
 weeks in the Xorlh-eastern part of the 
 State, in Union and Green Counties. 
 Granting himself a few days respite from 
 his labors, he resolved to ride into Clai- 
 borne' County, and deliver his letter of in- 
 troduction to the Goldmans. 
 
 It was an afternoon's ride through hilly 
 country, that abounded in picturesque sce- 
 nery. The heights were covered with the 
 juniper and the red ash. Long stretches of 
 pine woods extended into the valleys, 
 being, as it were, the skins of the immense 
 pine forests of North Carolina, dragging 
 over into Tennessee. He crossed the 
 Clinch River by one of the few fords, and 
 passed the town of Sycamore, leaving it to 
 the right. It was about two hours before 
 sundown, that he reached the mansion 
 house of the Goldmans. 
 
 A brick building of moderate extent, it 
 
Differences. 29 
 
 had recently been much enlarged by the 
 addition of wings, constructed by thestone 
 found in that region. The spurs of the 
 Alleglianies in the north-eastern part of 
 the State are rich in stone, and possess even 
 quarries of fair marble. The newer parts 
 of the building had been constructed in 
 elegant modern style, with long French 
 windows, balconies, and archueotural or- 
 naments, that testified more to the builder's 
 love of display than to his correctness of 
 taste. The approaches to the house were 
 well shaded, and a second garden extended 
 in the rear. 
 
 Welland gave his horse in charge of a 
 negro who lounged on the hall steps, and 
 entered the building. A short, stout gentle- 
 man met him, and shook his hand heartily. 
 In a moment he was brought into the par- 
 lor. This was an airy and elegantly fur- 
 nished apartment. A lady reposing in a 
 huge chair lifted her head languidly, as he 
 entered. 
 
 Welland introduced himself, and de- 
 livered his letter. The gentleman glanced 
 at it, but said that their friend Tourtelotte 
 had already informed them, by mail, of the 
 pleasure they would experience in becoming 
 acquainted with Mr. Welland. 
 
 Then conducting our young friend to the 
 lady, he said: "Mrs. Goldman, permit me 
 to introdnce to you Mr. Louis Welland, a 
 friend of Mr. Tourtelotte." 
 
 The lady arose and bowed graciously. 
 
 *' I hope you will make our house your 
 
30 Differences. 
 
 home as long as you rpmain in the neigh- 
 borhood. Have you known Mr. Tourte- 
 lotte long? A charming young man." 
 
 •* I owe my acquaintance with him to a 
 fortunate chance ; doubly fortunate, since 
 it has procured me an entree to your house, 
 Madam." 
 
 The lady bowed. " You will find life dull 
 here. When we came hither from New 
 Orleans, I thought I should have died of 
 e7i/mi." 
 
 " But death could not prevail on himself 
 to commit so cruel an outrage," replied 
 Welland, with that air of flippant gallantry 
 with which such things are said. 
 
 **T fear death is not half so good man- 
 nered. I suffer dreadfully from my nerves." 
 
 Welland made a polite grimace. When 
 a lady begins to talk of her nerves, you 
 must either resign yourself good-naturedly 
 to be bored, and then she will consider you 
 a man of mind and heart, or you must re- 
 sort to a violent alternative and change the 
 topic. In the latter case you will be thought 
 a monster. 
 
 " The country is very fine," said he, 
 taking the latter alternative. "After a so- 
 journ of years in New York, I enjoy the 
 bracing air of your hills, the mild beauty 
 of your valleys, ard the delicious smell of 
 3'our pine woods exceedingly." 
 
 " Let me hope that these advantages will 
 compensate for the loss of amusements, 
 which, I confess, would be much more to my 
 taste. I am sorry that my son is absent, 
 
Differences. 31 
 
 for you would find a pleasant companion 
 in him. He is a fine character, Mr. Wel" 
 land." 
 
 "Sarah, my love," said Mr. Goldman, 
 "perhaps the gentleman is rather tired 
 from his ride — " 
 
 "Goldman, my life, don't interrupt me," 
 replied the lady. ♦•! was about to ask, 
 would you like to retire to your apartment,' 
 Mr. Welland, and rest till the dinner bell 
 sounds?" 
 
 " I would be much obliged for the privi- 
 lege, Madam. Truly, I am not at all present- 
 able," replied Welland, with a smile, glanc- 
 ing at his dusty garments. 
 
 " Goldman be kind enough to ring for the 
 house-keeper." 
 
 Mr. Goldman touched a bell. A bright 
 mulatto boy appeared, who was dispatched 
 for the house-keeper. This proved to be 
 an old French crone, with an enormous cap, 
 and bright beady eyes, in whose charge 
 our hero was placed. 
 
 She conducted him up a wide staircase 
 and into a spacious apartment elegantly 
 furnished in the most modern style. A ~ 
 low French bedstead stood in a recess, with 
 a tasteful drapery of mosquito netting en- 
 circling it. The open windows had frames 
 inserted covered with the same netting, and 
 the doors possessed doubles of this trans- 
 parent material. 
 
 The mulatto boy appeared presently with 
 Welland's portmanteau, and explained that 
 he had been ordered to consider himself 
 
32 Differences. 
 
 the " strange gemmen's " special attendant. 
 
 Leaving the young man at his toilet, we 
 -will say a few words about the history of 
 the Gold mans. Mrs. Goldman was of 
 French extraction, her mother having been 
 the daughter of one of Napoleon's gen- 
 erals. Her father was a. German, and he 
 emigrated to the United States, and settled 
 in New Orleans, when his daughter was 
 quite small. When she grew up, she was 
 married to Mr. Goldman, the factotum of 
 her fatlier, and who managed all his affairs. 
 Beyond his business capacities Mr. Gold- 
 man possessed nothing. His wife, how- 
 ever, brought him a large dowry, which 
 soon became a considerable fortun<^ 
 A n epidemic having carried otf her parents, 
 the Gold mans became very wealthy. They 
 continued in business aud added to their 
 wealth, until their children arrived at years, 
 when impressions are lasting. Then Mrs. 
 Gohimaii became posse.ssed of the idea of 
 found 'ng a family. 
 
 Those who know the people of the United 
 States well, will understand all the diffi- 
 culty ot the task which Mrs. Goldman set 
 herself to accomplish. There is no titled 
 aristocracy in this country, but for that 
 very reason there is more pride of family 
 than any where else on God's green earth. 
 It is only genius of the first order or wealth 
 of princely dimensions that is peruiitted 
 to overleap the barrier drawn around this 
 caste. No official position, not the guber- 
 natorial chair, not the senatorial title buy 
 
Differences. 33 
 
 equality for the possessor. Such men cau 
 become the founders of families, but they 
 themselves bear the taint of the parvenu in 
 those sacred social circles. In New Eng- 
 land it is the descendants of the Pilgriui 
 fathers and the emigrated English gentry ; 
 in New York and Pennsylvania, the fami- 
 lies of the Dutch settlers ; in Maryland aua 
 Delaware, the stock of the Huguenots ex- 
 iled by the edict of Nantes, and the Catho- 
 lics driven from Great Britain by persecu- 
 tions; in Virginia and the Carolinas, the 
 houses of the first tobacco planters that 
 fought with Captain Smah ; in Florida and 
 Louisiana, the offspring of those that came 
 with De Soto, and of the French gentry im- 
 poverished by extravagance and driven to 
 seek new homes a century ago. These foi m 
 the aristocracy of America, and posscL^s 
 more pride and exclusiveness than the 
 bluest blood of Spain. 
 
 Mrs. Goldman saw that the West was li.e 
 only region where the social orders had not 
 yet reached a degree of crystallization that 
 made it next to impossible to crowd into 
 the first circles. The West, therefore, v. as 
 her choice. Cutting adrift from old co.i- 
 nections and associations, she urged ibe 
 purchase of a princely estate in a remote 
 corner of Tennessee, and there, as extensive 
 landed proprietors, she hoped to see her 
 children take their places among the ario- 
 tocracy of this State, which in part belongs 
 to the West and in part to the South. 
 
 All the difficulty of the situation will be 
 
34 Differences. 
 
 understood when it is told tbat the Gold- 
 mans "were of Hebrew descent, and firnily 
 attached to a rational interpretation of 
 their religion. 
 
 About their characters: Mrs. Goldman 
 was a strong-minded, practical woman ; 
 buperficially educated, and not without 
 traits of coarseness and vulgnrity ; but 
 withal, with a strong appreciation of knowl- 
 edge, refinement and all the attributes of 
 good society. A lady who could assume 
 good manners and feign refined feelings^ 
 and who was ashamed of her business ca- 
 pacities, which were excellent. Moreover 
 there was no lack of affectation in her 
 ways. 
 
 Mr. Goldman was very good natured, 
 very patient, a sharp, close calculator, as 
 those of bis race are apt to be, and a pas- 
 sionate lover of music. He did not know 
 much, but honored knowledge in others. 
 In general he was content to occup3'^ the 
 second place in his house. 
 
 *' Sarah, my love," said he, when they 
 were left alone, "I like the looks of this 
 young man very much." 
 
 ♦' Goldman, my life," replied she, '• don't 
 interrupt me — " 
 
 ** You were not saying any thing." 
 
 ** I was about to say something. He has 
 a very distinguished air. Does Tourtelotte 
 write any thing in regard to his position or 
 means ? " 
 
 " Nothing, but that he is under obliga- 
 
Differences. 35 
 
 tions to him, and hopes we will do all to 
 make his stay here agreeable." 
 
 " Goldman, my life, don't recite the whole 
 letter. He must be a Frenchman from his 
 tou?'nwre." 
 
 " I should judge him a German. Is Tony 
 going out this evening? " 
 
 " Goldman, my life, pray don't call her 
 Tony before company. The child's name 
 is Antonia. She is going to ride over to the 
 Palmers." 
 
 The gentleman turned to leave the room. 
 Mrs. Goldman called after him. 
 
 *' Send the house-keeper in, and tell Mr^ 
 Sellington Sharp that my nerves are so bad 
 to-day, I shall be forced to dispense with 
 the pleasure of his company at dinner." 
 
 Mr. Goldman looked back with a queer 
 smile, but said nothing. 
 
 In the meanwhile Welland had completed 
 his toilet, and descending, strolled out into 
 the garden, to await the signal for dinner. 
 On every hand he saw the evidences of good 
 taste and ample means. There were rare 
 plants of every variety. Flowers indige- 
 nous and foreign grouped with an artistic 
 eye to the effects, and nooks and bowers 
 festooned with the magnificent creepers of 
 the South. After a stroll of a few minutes 
 he returned to the house. Passing through 
 the hall, he was attracted to the front door 
 by the sight of a beautiful gray pony with ' 
 a side saddle, which was led up and down 
 by a groom. The appointments were so 
 elegant, and the pony so handsome that 
 3* 
 
destined to wetW \<m^-i^- ■'■^^'1 Y.«J3 a-i ■i:^:^^! 
 
 face with a young lady. She wore A'Ti^lil 
 1^J««^l*abi r«mir a ■■h*t' If ft K- k^' W 
 One hand held a sle^d^r h«r!i!j)y''kha''tt>* 
 «*tier Bttpppcnriediiei- trhnnyj^- ,'----;'>'-' " 
 '-•iJThfer^-fdricJw^^^a sirfpiJfsfed' glkiit^ fr6tti 
 ie«^^*>bl«^ifth4 lifjuM «*th€Pii?a ; -fh^'^aVin^ 
 of curls golden as the sunlight, •^!T(9f'*t:li4 
 gX^tmiSghf^^ eh B^k ^'ilfe ' tire - -fkf ritest tbae 
 tinge. Then 'tb& yo*^--Ia<ly- rti«d6-- k h-jlf 
 JiMv,itfippe^ doWiitfe^ ^^^»^^a ■'Ttas on 
 h«^' fe«*|^ «-6f WMlarid*5'ha*'*fm^'^'^tfr; 
 6!attyi«h4&*Qatttei'*d^ awy. ^^i Hiidr^ I , ^rh-o) 
 B^JtPWellawIrgftfced^ a ftei^l^^*^ ^ f^ilg-^ ^ 
 
 returned to the garGfeeWi^flttd^ltiattentive'^to 
 tfe^ibel^>%l^^j?e<li^]f6$e^-aftfeif^ r<m', ^6. 
 efeg^ved: tbel t(>m^ lea^es-iti a id^fea*n3^'«tElte= bf 
 
 1 Sctddettly? -a ^ Iiatiff towehec^ fift^ i?M,-^%ii 
 MB^Go4dttia&st«od^>efor«li^iiifi'^ ^"- -'■^-' - 
 -vt*4 Wiill^yoBf coine. iH ta dlnfieT?^' ^he^'sk^d 
 gtfe* imturedly . ^>>B4&e ieA,*^ fR-^^ tri eagi^ 
 foodiiJdr Sromnganiieia.tJaii ,Ki:j »in ydiwJ j^o 
 ID it-ijq^^-iij iivrjuiii^oin. ^iii iiJiw i>^(iooJ^sl 
 BBi if idai v/'Jl fi io Umia-s i^ii A .aJ«o8f'dj 
 ilguoiil-J -u^ai^si'l .o^uod y:iJ oJ {j:>iiiuJj-i od 
 'ioob JiTvYt odtJHJtIiqtERin^.>v/ yd ,li/jfi jcU 
 iiiW^E]gL^!Ni>^"Gheebs-fltfsh«drSlfg1ktly as he 
 dfse>pfe ^»e^?Q$^ii :«n4 ft)l*Of\*^ l^'^b<^# tod 
 
 t^ie'd^ffffiB^i-TOdtflv' l-^-' --^^^ ,ino;):^ i-- vd 
 
 ] ^^heiieiM^/i&oldE&aW'pTiea^n^e^ Mim ^o-Hiif 
 
D I F P E It B Jt e « s /I ^; 
 
 old lady, and, in turn, iiHi'odlte^v KeV"a«i 
 " Madame la Generale Outon." - <i n:; 
 
 The old lady executed a^^ magti1ff6eht 
 courtesy, while Welland gazed iW'fem^pftW 
 upon her. The wrinkled featutefe, ^iW 
 false front adorned on either side wit^i'ftjttr 
 short, fat curls, that hung over the fat^M 
 head ; the enormous cap of magnificent 
 blonde; the small neckerchief of Brussels" 
 lace, as yellow and more valuable than 
 gold ; the flashing solitaire that pinned it ; 
 and the quiet dress of heavy gray silk ; all 
 made upon him an impression as if some 
 picture of the first empire had stepped from 
 its frame, and saluted him. 
 
 But there was ne- time for observations. 
 Mr. Goldman gave the old lady his arm,' 
 and Welland offered his to Mrs. Goldman. 
 In this manner they proceeded to tho din- 
 ing-room, and took seats around a table, 
 set out rather showily. 
 
 During dinner, the lady of the house 
 showed great solicitude regarding Wel- 
 land, and pressed all dishes on him, in a 
 manner more kind than well-bred. Mr. 
 Goldman, who was an epicure of cultivated 
 palate, gave his judgment on the courses, 
 with the gravity of an oracle, and without 
 a suspicion of the bad taste of this proceed- 
 ing at his own table. The old lady was 
 quiet and well bred ; there was a jaunti- 
 ness in her movements, and a grandeur in 
 her bows, which bespoke her to belong, not 
 only to the old w orld, but also to old times. 
 After dinner the party adjourned to the 
 
38 Differences. 
 
 parlor, where coffee was served in small 
 
 cups. 
 
 *' We are but a quiet family, sir," said 
 Mrs. Goldman, " when the children are ab- 
 sent. Unfortunately, Antonia dines with 
 some neighbors to-day, and so we have no 
 musie."' 
 
 *' But that is no reason why we should 
 have no ^9a^ie?i<'e," said Madame la Gener- 
 al-e. " Where is Mr. Sellington Sharp ?" 
 
 " Dear aunt, Mr. Sharp is engaged to- 
 day," replied Mrs. Goldman. 
 
 *' Nonsense, child,; send for him at once." 
 
 Without further resistance, the order was 
 complied with. 
 
 "Do you play the piano, sir, or sing?" 
 asked the old lady of Welland. 
 
 " Both, Madam, though perhaps indiffer- 
 ently." 
 
 " Will you give us the pleasure of listen- 
 ing to you, then ? Some old song of the 
 time of the emperor, if you are acquainted 
 with any." 
 
 " With pleasure," and Welland opened 
 the piano and sang : Partant pour la Syne. 
 
 " Thanks, thanks," cried Madame la 
 Generale. " The song of my royal friend 
 Queen Hortense ! Sir, will you do me the 
 honor to take a pinch of snuff from this 
 tabatiei'e ? It was presented to my father 
 by the emperor." 
 
 Welland complied, and sneezed heartily 
 in consequence. The old lady then, with a 
 great flourish, took a pinch herself, and 
 continued : 
 
Differences. 39 
 
 " It was after the Austrian campaiga 
 that his majesty presented it to my fatlier." 
 
 •' You refer to the Emperor Napoleon, 
 Madam ?" inquired Welland, 
 
 ** Was there any other emperor since 
 Charlemagne?" asked the old lady testily 
 in return. 
 
 Welland bowed. " Your father was in 
 his service?" 
 
 *' He was a General of division ; and my 
 husband was named General de Brigade 
 on the day of ." 
 
 " I have the honor to make you my com- 
 pliment," said Welland, expressing his ad- 
 miration in the French manner. Up 
 started the old lady, and made another 
 sweeping courtesy, which again necessi- 
 tated a bow in return. 
 
 Our young friend believed himself trans- 
 ported to one of the Parisian salons of 1815. 
 Madame was just preparing to enlarge on 
 the subjects of her memory, when fortu- 
 nately Mr. Sellington Sharp arrived, and 
 was introduced. 
 
 A stout man, with a hook nose, florid 
 complexion and ferret eyes. He was the 
 manager of the estates, aad endowed with 
 a good deal of cunning and vulgarity. But 
 he was a good 2)atience player. 
 
 A table was prepared, and Madame, 
 with the two gentlemen, took their seats at 
 once. 
 
 Mrs. Goldman and Welland retired to a 
 sofa near one of the windows, and entered 
 into conversation. 
 
40 DiFFEKENCES. 
 
 Mrs. Goldman had a purpose. She 
 wished to know more of Wellaiid than 
 Tourtelotte had written them. As she 
 settled the folds of her dress, she consid- 
 ered how to apply the conversational cork- 
 screw. 
 
 " You express yourself pleased with the 
 scenery' of this region," she said. "Have 
 you been nere any time, or have you just 
 arrived?" This was inserting the point of 
 the corkscrew. 
 
 " I have been for two weeks in the ad- 
 joining counties, and I have been UiUch 
 charmed," he replied, with a perfect un- 
 derstanding of the process he was being 
 subjected to. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! There is no enjoyment like 
 traveling for pleasure." 
 
 " I agree with you, madam." 
 
 "But few tourists choose our obscure 
 corner of the State for that purpose ?" This 
 was turn number one. 
 
 " Nor did I," replied Welland. 
 
 *' You did not travel for pleasure then ? 
 Perhaps on business? Our marbles are 
 much thought of, but the quarries are not 
 sufficiently worked." Turn number two. 
 
 " It is a pity, for the enterprise would 
 pay. But I do not understand much of 
 marbles." 
 
 " Perhaps you are interested in agricul- 
 ture?" 
 
 *' Only so far as devouring its products is 
 concerned." 
 
Differences. 41 
 
 Mrs. Goldman tliought of inserting her 
 point in a new place. She began : 
 
 •' Political feeling runs high this summer. 
 I fear that there will be trouble." 
 
 " I hope not. There is too much good 
 sense in the country." 
 
 "Ah, you have better opportunities of 
 knowing, than we. Confess that you have 
 something to do with Government." This 
 was a turn. 
 
 " Very willingly. I even hold oflace." 
 
 *' Well, I must say, that I thought you 
 looked loo distinguished for a politician." 
 
 " For a Tennessee politician perhaps. But 
 I am not a politician," with a bow for the 
 compliment. 
 
 "In the name of heaven," said Mrs. 
 Goldman, with an assumption of graceful 
 petulance, " what are you ?" 
 
 " A surveyor of State lands, and your 
 obedient servant." 
 
 " And, pray, pity my ignorance — what is 
 a surveyor?" 
 
 " One who measures lands by means of 
 certain geometrical instruments, and makes 
 maps that are never looked at." 
 
 " What does he make them for, then," 
 said the lady, giving a great turn to her 
 screw. 
 
 " Because he is paid for them," replied 
 Welland, and .Mrs. Goldman's cork came 
 out. 
 
 She had a perfect understanding now of 
 his position. Still there was so much in 
 the man beyond the surveyor, that she was 
 
42 Differences. 
 
 far from being satisfied. So she went to 
 
 work, again. 
 
 " A person must require a great deal of 
 knowledge to understand your business," 
 she resumed. " Did it take you long to go 
 through the requisite studies?" 
 
 *' It is difficult for me to reply. When I 
 acquired this knowledge, it was in con- 
 nection with other branches, and before I 
 had any idea of being compelled to derive 
 practical advantages from the results of my 
 studies." 
 
 " It was at a German university, then?" 
 
 ••It was." 
 
 •'Ah, it is only there people study, with- 
 out ever intenaing to put their acquire- 
 ments to any earthly use !" 
 
 •• Yes, it is only there," repeated he, with 
 some warmth, •' that people learn for the 
 mere sake of knowing." 
 
 " Which is the rankest folly imaginable. 
 Forgive me, but I honor that sort of learn- 
 ing, though aware of its uselessness. It is 
 an incomprehensible motive to my mind." 
 
 '• I should judge so. You are too attract- 
 ive ever to become a bluo-stocking." With 
 which compliment he hoped to escape 
 further questions. 
 
 •• You are very complimentary. I rejoice 
 in the absence of Antonia." 
 
 •' I am sure," said he, becoming all ears 
 at the mention of this name, " in Madame'a 
 presence, few others can be in danger of 
 being complimented." 
 
 *• Ah, I suffer too much from my nerves. 
 
DlFFKRENCES. 43 
 
 When I was well, I could lay claim to some 
 looks." 
 
 ** And does Miss Goldman — I beg your 
 pardon," he added hesitatingly, "it was 
 to her, you had reference?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 ** Does Miss Goldman inherit the looks 
 of her mother?" Oh, the rank hypocrite. 
 
 " Some say she is very like me. You 
 will have an opportunity of judging to- 
 morrow." 
 
 '• She will return tomorrow, then ?" 
 
 " She will return late to-night. One of 
 our young neighbors will probably escort 
 her home." 
 
 Welland felt very uncomfortable. Mrs. 
 Goldman noticed that he grew absent- 
 minded, and started upon a new theme. 
 
 " How fortunate that you are a survey- 
 or," she said. 
 
 " In what respect ? Can I be of service to 
 you ?" 
 
 " Perhaps. It is you surveyors that de- 
 cide on the boundaries of Estates? Not so?" 
 
 " You seem to understand our business 
 perfectly." 
 
 '* Well, there is an old dispute between 
 us and our neighbor." 
 
 " Regarding a boundary, madam ?" 
 
 " Regarding a hillside, which, some 
 think, is of mineral value." 
 
 " I shall be happy to investigate the af- 
 fair. Perhaps Mr. Goldman will enlighten 
 me as to your titles." 
 
 "Oh, do not speak to him of it. He is 
 
44 Differences. 
 
 the quperest man regarding such matters. 
 Only think, I believe him capable of aban- 
 doning our right to that hillside alto- 
 gether." 
 
 Welland held up his hands in mock hor- 
 ror. 
 
 " Is it possible?" he said. 
 
 " And he has insisted on our leaving the 
 question open, and being on good terms 
 with this neighbor." 
 
 *' How terrible of Mr. Goldman !" 
 
 "You are laughing at me, sir," said the 
 lady, with some warmth. " But I assure 
 you, I feel deeply on tlie .subject." 
 
 " No doubt," rejoined Welland, with all 
 the seriousness in the world. " Be assured 
 I shall make it my business to settle the 
 question beyond doubt." 
 
 " Are you talking philosophy ?" inquired 
 Madame la Generale, laying down her 
 cards. " If so, we will stop playing." 
 
 ** You honor us too much," replied Wel- 
 land. "We were but discussing every day 
 atfairs." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that every day affairs 
 are becoming worthj' of being discussed," 
 returned Madame. " It seems to me, that 
 nothing remarkable has happened within 
 the last thirty years." 
 
 "Certainly nothing that can compete 
 with the events of the thirty years before 
 that," said Welland. 
 
 The reply seemed to please the old lady. 
 
 "We live in a meagre and humdrum 
 age now," she said, arranging her superb 
 
Differences. 45 
 
 ruffles; " and the people of these days, and 
 especially of this country, have no concep- 
 tion of the glorious times of the enii)iie. 
 What an army ! and what a court! Every 
 prominent nmn labelled with the name of 
 a battle he had been instrumental in win- 
 
 i ning; every beautiful woman celebrated 
 
 I for some heroic act she had caused to be 
 
 I ^rformed ; and all Europe looking in fear 
 
 and admiration upon that court, and its 
 
 \ gjbsfC emperor." 
 
 i " It is almost as if j'ou were reciting his- 
 
 tory," said Welland, reverently. But the 
 dthtlifi^ iv^d had heard these allusions too 
 dlten,^ bascee^ to change the subject. 
 
 "Who has won," asked Mrs. Goldman. 
 -•*^i btiV^e'teicf 'fe^rriMe cards," replied Ma- 
 
 \ dame la Generale:^''** Monsieur Sharp has 
 
 i ^W^'tiiB^feotCi-dP'^'^^ '^^-^ 
 
 i^^r^nfeW't^aei'Sfh^ultf^li^ave good luck 
 vmrn 6a^s=tb2-h%lrt;*'^^?a 'Sharp, '^ because 
 
 " As if that were 'ii''¥eason V* '^k\d Ma- 
 I da«jl^ ^«^C)fl'^#tiat!'t6ri^ffe^6^Jna^f6rt'uftes do 
 
 • you wish us to syrttf>aiJh?z§-'^l^'yMk=t''^' 
 
 I J ' " Wfeyi^^ 4^^ m^ msLtp^ '' '-i^m^ ^ Of - ati , 
 
 I -^mA I w^^a36ttiein th^ -t^Bfce ^thrs^ jMYti^^ 
 
 I id^/%^^lbA^#7 ^iW3^1f;'%itti nobody btifc^ 
 
 I o\<iV^S^6i^iV''^%^6tim^ &¥e^ cie^, ^th'^re^ Brite'y-e'd' 
 
 I c^ti^^i' iHe^^iA^iiiihager^^tlie"'^4W^iiMiJ' 
 Mr. Herring. We went over some 1>n'Si^^' 
 
 ! ne^^' 'aiM,- ^Ititoikt-'mj^ pi&rCeitWg '4tV lie 
 
 I placed a pistol, a loaded '^lst<>iya^WV diver',' 
 
46 Differences. 
 
 " Well, what of that," asked Mr. Gold- 
 man. 
 
 "What of that?" repeated Sharp, with 
 the greatest indignation. ** Did you never 
 hear of a pistol going off? Have you never 
 read of people being shot without the least 
 notice, by ac<iidents happening with pis- 
 tols? Mr. Goldman, you talk like a child." 
 
 *' Well, what became of the pistol," asked 
 Mr. Goldni tn further. 
 
 " What became of it? Confound his reck- 
 lessness, he left it there." 
 
 " Left it on your desk ?" 
 
 " On my desk, lying on top of the bills I 
 was going to look over this morning; and 
 I all alone in the office." 
 
 " Why didn't you call one of the ser- 
 vants, and have it removed ?" 
 
 " Am la fool, sir ? None of the niggers 
 understand pistols. Was I going to let 
 them handle such a thing, and cause a mis- 
 fortune to happen ? Not while Sellington 
 Sharp was in the room." 
 
 " Well, why didn't you leave the room 
 then, while it was removed !" 
 
 "Am I crazy? With the desk open, and 
 monej" in it ? I know niggers better than 
 that. Besides," he added sentimentally, 
 "they are men too, and worth several hun- 
 dred dollars each. I didn't Mant them 
 shot." 
 
 " But you might have locked the desk," 
 urged Mrs. Goldman. 
 
 "Yes, indeed; I might have sat down 
 right before the pistol, face to face, and 
 
DiFFERJENCES. 47 
 
 stuck my keys in the lock, and turned it, 
 and shaken the confounded thing, and, do 
 you know with what result? Sellington 
 Sharp would have been a dead man." 
 
 " Well, in heaven's name, what did you 
 do?" asked the lady. 
 
 " I sat down in a corner of the room, and 
 watched it. And when I left, I slammed 
 the door, hoping it wouid go off. But it 
 didn't. Then I turned the key, and there 
 it is, all alone now, and I hope the Lord 
 will watch over us here in the house. To- 
 morrow Mr. Herring returns." 
 
 " Any more misfortunes of this sort?" 
 
 *' Only that I tried to kill a turkey, and 
 the knife slipped, making it unclean." 
 
 " He kills the poultry we use, in accord- 
 ance with an old custom of the family," 
 said Mr. Goldman, in reply to Welland's 
 look of mirthful inquiry. 
 
 " Excuse me," said Welland, blushing, 
 *' I understand the custom." 
 
 ** We are a Hebrew family, sir," said the 
 old lady, with dignity, and unobservant of 
 the embarrassment of her niece and her 
 husband, " and it is a religious custom." 
 
 *' I know it, madam," he replied, smiling, 
 " and 1 have the honor of professing the 
 same faith." 
 
 There was a pause of astonishment, 
 which Sharp, who, beside possessing an 
 excellent head for business, and being a 
 gourmand ot the first water, above all, 
 prided himself on his jjroficiency as maitre 
 de cuisiney (having been cook to his com- 
 
48 Differences. 
 
 pany in the French array,) and delighted 
 in opportunities of doing a little amateur 
 cooking, broke, saying: 
 
 " iiut, we shall have a turkey to-mor- 
 row, notwithstanding, and I will prepare 
 it myself; ladies, I wish you good- night, 
 and hope the presence of the pistol in the 
 house will not disturb you." 
 
 The party broke up, and soon all was 
 quiet. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Next morning Miss Antonia had not re- 
 turned, but sent a message that she would 
 be home for dinner. The breakfast was 
 a quiet one, since Madame la Generale al- 
 ways partook of that meal in her own room, 
 and Mr. Sharp breakfasted long before the 
 rest. Mr. Goldman said that business 
 would call hira to Sycamore, and he should 
 be glad to have Mr. Welland's company. 
 After a number of charges by Mrs. Gold- 
 man, and innumerable orders for the dif- 
 ferent stores in town, the two gentlemen 
 started. 
 
 The morning was very fair. From a 
 sky, as soft and mysterious as an infant's 
 eye, flashed the early sun in the fullness of 
 life, and the exhilaration of beauty. The 
 great golden cones of flame, that fell flash- 
 ing on wood and river, seemed teeming 
 with the joys of an exuberant vitality, and 
 the snowy vapors, that rose from secluded 
 dells, resembled the breath of an animal. 
 
Differences. 49 
 
 just awakened to the gladness of existence. 
 
 In the afternoon, Mrs. Goldman and her 
 aunt took their usual drive to some part of 
 the estate. They had left but a few min- 
 utes, when a gentleman dashed up, and 
 dismounting, entered the house, followed 
 by an enormous hound. He was informed 
 ihat none of the family were in. Accord- 
 ingly, he left messages that he would call 
 after dinner, and requested that his hound 
 might be accommodated in the meanwhile, 
 since he found him troublesome to take 
 where he was going to call. One of the 
 negroes showed him a small sort of kitch- 
 en, adjoining, but separated from the main 
 kitchen, and which was rarely used, except 
 when the ladies or Mr. Sharp indulged in 
 amateur and experimental cookery. The 
 gentleman opened the door, and called to 
 the hound, who bounded in. Then closing 
 the door, he turned the key. 
 
 Now Mr. Sharp was in the small kitchen 
 at that very time. He had entered about 
 an hour before with a negro, who proceeded 
 to build a fire. Then he sent him for an 
 armfull of wood, and had an enormous 
 Dutch oven deposited on the hearth. A 
 few other necessaries were gotten together 
 by the sable attendant, and thou Mr. Sharp 
 said : 
 
 " Now Charley, leave me alone. I must 
 devote my mind to this affair." 
 
 The servant departed. Mr, Sharp took 
 off his respectable black coat ; then he 
 turned up his stiffly-starched wristbands ; 
 4 
 
50 D 1 F F K R Ji K C E S . 
 
 finally he put on an apron. The trans- 
 formation was complete. 
 
 He peeled some small white onions, and 
 cut them into the most dimi:r.:'.:vc slices. 
 Then some bread was soaked, and some 
 hashed chicken mixed with it ; and then 
 the liver, heart and gizzard oi the turkey 
 added. And now Mr, Sharp stood over his 
 saucepan, like a magician mixing the elixir 
 of life. A little salt, some pepper, more 
 salt, some other spice; bits of fat, and 
 heaven only knows what else, went in to 
 make that triumph of art, the stuffing. At 
 last it was satisfactoiy. Sharp, who took 
 a final taste, carried the saucepan to the 
 fire with a smile of eiultatiou. 
 
 ** They will see that we understand how 
 to bake turkeys, in the 48th of the line. Ma 
 foi, we were gourmands there !" 
 
 The mess was now put over a small ex- 
 tension of the fire, at the right of the Dutch 
 oven, and stirred frequently. Mysterious 
 ingredients, herbs, fluids, and spices, were 
 occasionally added. At last it seemed fin- 
 ished. Sharp took the pan from the coals, 
 and put it a little aside. 
 
 Then he heaj^ed wood on the hearth, and 
 got the turkey. It was large and beautiful, 
 with a bright golden tinge over its fatty 
 parts. Dissolving salt in water, and add- 
 ing pepper, he rubbed the bird all over 
 with this mixture, inside and out, and then 
 took a kernel of garlic and performed, the 
 same office. Finally, he put it to the fire 
 to warm, before introducing the stuffing. 
 
Differences. 61 
 
 Mr. Sharp was an economist in time. He 
 would not lose any, while the fowl was 
 warming. So he retired to a dresser, to 
 take the first steps for preparing the sauce^ 
 The sauce, that most important of the parts 
 of a dish ! The sauce, that manifestation 
 of the character of a cook ; that only me- 
 dium, in which the maitre tie cuisine can, 
 untrammeled by circumstances, give ex- 
 pression to his inmost character ; the sauce, 
 the glory or shame of its maker, the damna- 
 tion or apotheosis of a cook*. 
 
 '* I will show them how they made sauces 
 in the 48th. American cookery — nonsense! 
 New Orleans cookery— bosh !" And Mr. 
 Sharp, in the intensity of his attention, and 
 the concentration of his faculties upon the 
 important matter in hand, became dead to 
 all external impression. He had neitljer 
 eyes nor ears for any thing but his sauce. 
 The divine inspiration filled his soul. 
 
 When the stock of the sauce had been 
 prepared, he turned to go to the fire, carry- 
 ing the dish in his hand. 
 
 A growl. 
 
 Mr. Sharp lifted his eyes. In front of the 
 hearth lay a monster. This monster was a 
 dog. 
 
 Any one who has seen the pure bred 
 bloodhound, is not likely to forget the 
 strong wickedness or wicked strength of 
 its expression. The iron ferocity of the 
 jaw\ The jealous and suspicious glance of 
 the blood-shot eye. The ragged hang of the 
 earvS. The tremendous powder of the neck. 
 
5a D I F F K RE N C K b. 
 
 The bloodhound i8, iu faet, the 8atau of the 
 canine race. 
 
 The dog before the hearth was a blood- 
 hound. It kept its eye upon Sharp. The 
 poor man knew not what to do. 
 
 His first impulse was to retreat. Another 
 growl. His next to conciliate. A series of 
 growls. 
 
 With superhuman courage he advanced 
 a step. Immediately the dog was on his 
 legs, and showed a double row of teeth, as 
 brilliantly white as those of a fair woman. 
 Sharp shook with fear. He tried to cry 
 out. His voice refused. He tried to set 
 down the dish with his precious sauce. 
 The beast would not allow it. Every mo- 
 tion was attended by a growl. And though 
 the dog lay down when he was quiet, yet 
 he always kept one of those dreadful eyes 
 fixed upon poor Sharp. 
 
 Suddenly his gaze was attracted by a 
 great brightness on the hearth. He looked 
 up, and beheld the wood burned finely. 
 The turkey, which lay thereto warm, shone 
 like gold. The stuffing made a hissing 
 noise in the saucepan. 
 
 " My God ! is there nothing to appease 
 this dreadful brute?'' he cried in despair. 
 *' Doggie, good doggie, now-ow-ow !" and 
 he produced that soothing growl, which is 
 supposed to express conciliation in the lan- 
 guage of animals, and which men enunciate 
 with a doubtful sound, when compelled to 
 pass behind a kicking mare or mule. 
 
 The dog was deaf to the Syren's voice. 
 
D 1 F F E R E N € K fi . 53 
 
 He heeded not the outstretched hand. He 
 sturdily opposed any advance or retreat, 
 whatever. And there stood Sharp with the 
 dish in his hand. 
 
 The fire burned on. The turkey grew 
 brown ancihard. The stutfing had ceased 
 to sizzle, OTid became a solid cake. The 
 rays of the sun shot horizontally. 
 
 Sharp cried for help. The dog opened 
 both eyes. He shouted again. The dog sat 
 up. In his extremity he ventui ed a third 
 call. The dog gave a low growl, and made 
 for him. 
 
 Sharp turned and ran blindly, until hit- 
 ting the wall he fell to the floor. Not being 
 devoured, he looked up. The dog had re- 
 sumed his place. 
 
 The fire was very large. The turkey's 
 legs began to catch, and burned beauti- 
 fully. The stufiing was baked to the pan. 
 Sharp lifted up his voice and wept aloud. 
 The dog kept his eye on him. 
 
 The passion of his grief having exhausted 
 itself, he wiped his eyes, and considered 
 the situation. It was near dinner-time. 
 The turkey was burnt. The stuffing ruined. 
 The sauce nipped in the bud. He was on 
 the floor in a remote corner, with an ever 
 watchful eye to observe him. Without ex- 
 traneous aid, an extrication was impossi- 
 ble. The dog was master of the situation. 
 
 Two hours must elapse before the family 
 would feel alarmed. He turned pale. It 
 would perhaps, be supposed, that he had 
 gone to town. He turned yellow. He 
 
54 DiPFEUENCES. 
 
 might be left all night with the beast, aud 
 the dog might become mad. He turned 
 blue. 
 
 The tire went out. A black charry mass 
 represented the turkey. The stuffing was 
 not to be distinguished from^the pan. 
 Night fell, and it grew (luite dark in tho 
 room. 
 
 Sharp grew furious. He violently de- 
 manded to know, why he ever left New Or- 
 leans, to vegetate in this savage corner of 
 Tennessee, where bloodhounds were train- 
 ed to devour peaceable citizens ? The dog 
 making no reply, and the walls remaining 
 dumb, he again manifested an earnest de- 
 sire to be informed wiiy he ever undertook 
 such a foolish affair? And there being 
 still no answer, he finally insisted upon be- 
 ing informed, why he ever was born, and 
 whether he was going to pass the rest of 
 his life in this kitchen with a bloodthirsty 
 hound as companion ? 
 
 The dog, however, bore his position with 
 great philosophy, and uttered no com- 
 plaint. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 About an hour before dinner, Mr. Gold- 
 man and his guest returned from town. 
 The latter, who saw the grey pony being 
 groomed, hastened up-stairs to arrange his 
 toilet, while Mr. Goldman excused himself, 
 and began to turn out his pockets, and take 
 account of the thousand and one thinars he 
 
Differences. 55 
 
 had been commissioned to get. When 
 Welland had dressed, he picked^jp a book 
 and descended. Glancing into the parlor, 
 he found it untenanted, and therefore 
 strolled out. He was alone in the garden. 
 
 He tried to read. But his thoughts would 
 wander from the page, and indulge in vis- 
 ions, the principal figure of which, always 
 wore a blue habit and white plume, and 
 sat on a gray pony. He made repeated at- 
 tempts to chain his ideas to the book before 
 him. But his imagination would not rest, 
 and splendid air castles reared their proud 
 turrets in the evening light, and soft music 
 came from their halls, and figures entered 
 the high portals, and the chiefest of them 
 was ever attired in a blue habit, and was 
 forever holding the hand of the dreamer. 
 Suddenly his visions seemed to take bodily 
 shape, as a sweet, deep voice, spoke at his 
 side: 
 
 "I bid you welcome to mv garden. Mr. 
 Welland." 
 
 It was the young lady of the day before. 
 But not in a blue habit. Soft folds of white 
 encompassed her form, and her fine throat 
 and wrists were encircled by bands of ma- 
 roon velvet. A strip of the same, ran 
 round the bottom of her dress, in serpentine 
 windings. In her hair, and on her bosom, 
 were freshly-gathered roses. 
 
 With an effort, he recovered himself from 
 a prolonged stare, and with the ease of a 
 man of the world, replied : 
 
56 Differences. 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Goldman. Its beauty 
 has made me a dreamer." 
 
 "I fear then, that it is my mission to 
 chase away the fair creations of your fancy. 
 I am going to ask you to do a very com- 
 monplace, matter-of-fact thing." 
 
 '' It can never be commonplace to me, 
 when yon ask it." 
 
 *' Gallantly said, sir. But it is common- 
 place, notwithstanding. Will you carry 
 the basket while I cut a few flowers ?" 
 
 Assenting with a bow, he took it up, and 
 followed the lady, who went from bush to 
 bush, and culled the choicest roses. 
 
 And again his spirit revelled in dreams, 
 and his eyes assumed the looks of one gaz- 
 ing into the future, or the past. And 
 through the haze of long years, he seemed 
 to see himself, a bright boy, following his 
 beautiful young mother around the old 
 garden. And then, as now, he carried the 
 basket, while she cut roses. Only — 
 
 ** Why, Mr. Welland, if you come not to 
 my aid, I shall be weighed down to earth 
 by all these flowers !" Thus again that re- 
 markably deep sweet voice startled him. 
 
 And it was a glorious sight, to which his 
 gaze w^as recalled. At a little distance 
 stood Miss Goldman, with her arms full of 
 roses, that tumbled over and hung on her 
 dress, or fell to the ground. There were 
 all sorts of roses. Deep damask ones, with 
 their passionate glow. Bright moss roses 
 with their plush-like stems and cups, and 
 their burning cores. Pink beauties just 
 
D 1 F F E R E N C K S . 57 
 
 tinted with the glory of color. White em- 
 blems of innocence that hung, pure as 
 smow-fiakes, between their green leaves. 
 And yellow tea-roses, gorgeous and large. 
 
 Welland came to the rescue with his bas- 
 ket. *' Forgive me," he said, ''for my fits 
 of abstraction. You know that we Ger- 
 mans are dreamers, and the perfume of 
 your flowers seems to soothe me, as the 
 Lotos does the poets of the East." 
 
 ** You are indeed happy," she replied, 
 half seriously, and half in jest, "if your 
 imagination can supply you with fairer 
 visions, than have been spread out before 
 our ejes in this world of ours." 
 
 " Your reproof is full of justice," replied 
 Welland, earnestly. '' Had your lips not 
 pronounced it, in your presence I should 
 have felt it nevertheless." 
 
 Miss Goldman blushed. 
 
 *' Our Tennessee ears are not used to 
 Parisian phrases, sir. Have you had a 
 fine ride with father ?" 
 
 " A glorious one. And, you do not know, 
 how interesting it is for me to listen to the 
 views of one brought up in the practical 
 school of experience, as he has been." 
 
 "As a general thing, schoolmen look 
 with disdain on such views, and believe, that 
 in the abstraction of their studies, they can 
 frame a juster theory of the living world, 
 than the man that fights his way through 
 its battles. They may have more compre- 
 hension in regard to this subject. But the 
 man of experience, with his narrow views 
 
58 Differences. 
 
 has tho advantage of correctness of esti- 
 mate." 
 
 " I have sometimes entertained this same 
 opinion," returned Welland *' at variance, 
 as it is, witli Universitv maxims." 
 
 "Ob, your German Universities!" said 
 the young lady, with a smile like a May 
 morning. " Are thej' not pyramids that 
 preserve the dead dogmas, the defunct 
 principles, and the buried prejudices of a 
 dead past? What charnel houses are like 
 those universities? And to the spirits of 
 these dead things, your professors continue 
 to sacrifice the children of the living age. 
 It is as bad as casting babes to Moloch." 
 
 " You are severe," said Welland ; he lis- 
 tened with awe-struck admiration to the 
 sounds of that magnificent alto voice, vi- 
 brating with the earnestness of deep feeling, 
 and scarce heard the words. " You enum- 
 erate their defects without paying tribute 
 to their meriis." 
 
 " Oh, as fcr their merits, they seem to 
 turn out very good young men, who are 
 liable to fits of abstraction, and who make 
 neglectful attendants, when they carry a 
 basket for a lady." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, I forgot all about 
 the basket." And he gathered the flowers 
 she had cut, and placed them with the 
 others. 
 
 " Having thus successfully begged the 
 question you asked," said the young lady, 
 '* I will do penance, and acknowledge that, 
 though educated in France, I adore German 
 
Differences. 59 
 
 music, German poetry, German philosophy; 
 in short, every thing German, except — " 
 
 "Except what?" asked Welland, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " I was going to commit a rudeness — " 
 
 '* It is impossible for you to do so. Ex- 
 cept?" 
 
 " Except the Germans !" 
 
 " Unfortunate nation !" cried Welland, 
 with mock sorrow. 
 
 She looked into his eyes, and he returned 
 the glance. At first her glance was taunt- 
 ing, challenging, with a gleam of polite 
 mirth. His, throughout, was respectful, 
 admiring, but firm and manly, bright with 
 an earnest consciousness of innate worth. 
 A nd that calm firm eye, dark and beautiful 
 as night, slowly mastered every resistance 
 in her glance, and seemed to dive down 
 with resistless power into the liquid depth 
 before hira. It seemed as if he gazed down 
 into her soul, and meanwhile held her 
 body chained in electric bonds. At last, 
 without removing his eyes, he seemed to 
 withdraw their force, and she slowly drop- 
 ped her's to the ground, and drew a long 
 breath. 
 
 A step approached. Both looked up, and 
 Tourtelotte stood before them. His face 
 was calm, but his eyes shone with the wild 
 cat fierceness, which is occasionally ob- 
 served in the eye of the Creole, Both felt 
 that he was excited, and both were con- 
 scious of a guilty feeling in themselves. 
 
 " A fair evening, Miss Goldman," said 
 
60 D I F r B R E N c- K fi . 
 
 Tourtelotte, and added, with some bitter- 
 ness, " I owe you thanks for the great 
 kindness shown to my friend Welland," 
 and he bowed to the latter. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you again," said 
 Miss Goldman, presenting a hand as white 
 and transparent as wax, " and all the 
 more happy, since I am in need of your 
 services/' 
 
 "Ah!" cried Tourtelotte, and his eyes 
 softened, *' j'^ou are determined to keep me 
 under obligations. What can I do?" 
 
 "Take this basket of roses from Mr. Wel- 
 land, who is altogether too grave and se- 
 rious a personage, to bear so fanciful a 
 burden. Will you?" 
 
 " If Mr. Welland were a fiery dragon, I 
 would take it all the same, at your com- 
 mand," and he did so. 
 
 "Unfortunately, I am nor," said Wel- 
 land, smiling at this extravaganza. " I be- 
 lieve the race is extinct." 
 
 " But the race of valiant knights still 
 lives," rejoined the lady, throwing a mirth- 
 ful glance at Tourtelotte. 
 
 " And the race of fair ladies was never 
 better represented," replied the young 
 planter. 
 
 Miss Goldman made a sweeping courtesy 
 and laughed. Then taking Welland's arm, 
 she said : 
 
 " The dinner bell has sounded. Lfet us 
 go in." Tourtelotte followed with the bas- 
 ket. 
 
"Speaking of monsters," suddenly said 
 the young lady, " where is Ugly ?" 
 
 ♦' Why," replied Tourtelotte, " Ug misbe- 
 haved this morning, and I brought him 
 here, and locked him in an empty room. 
 The man I purchased him of, warned me, 
 that he had fits of ill humor. I wrote to 
 Mr. Goldman about it." 
 
 " I know," replied Miss Goldman. " But 
 when will you show him to us ?" 
 
 " After dinner," said Tourielotte, " if you 
 wish it." 
 
 They entered the house, and the lady de- 
 livered the flowers to a servant, to be 
 sprinkled with water, and brought to the 
 parlor after dinner. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Goldman, and Madame Ou- 
 ton were waiting. They all welcomed 
 Tourtelotte with great cordiality . Wel- 
 land, conscious at once of the sense of the 
 company, by that delicate perception which 
 people of cultivated and poetic minds pos- 
 sess, left Miss Goldman's side, and attached 
 himself to the old lad\'. Thus Miss Gold- 
 man was virtually placed in charge of the 
 young Creole, for the evening. 
 
 The dinner passed off quietly. Madame 
 la Generale had gotten herself up this 
 evening, and she looked as if she was pre- 
 pared to go to court. There was a turban 
 of magnificent dimensions on her head, 
 and two long plumes swept down her back. 
 A barbe of lace, ending in a long silver 
 fringe, hung over her left shoulder, and 
 she wore a neckerchief of inestimable 
 
62 Differences. 
 
 value. The dross was of deep red satin. 
 There was just a touch of powder on her 
 front, and from her wrist depended a fan 
 painted with all the gods of Olyiupus. The 
 secret of this overjKtwering get-up was, 
 that Madame intended to pay a visit after 
 dinner. Being accordingly in her mood of 
 state, she infused a double dose of polite- 
 ness into her speeches, and was, in fact, 
 ceremony on a pedestal. 
 
 *' Has Madame never thought of re- visit- 
 ing France, and paying her respects to the 
 present representative ol the Bonaparte 
 dynasty ?" asked Welland, for the sake of 
 saying something. 
 
 " Never, my dear Mr. Welland," replied 
 the old lady. " My recollections of the 
 past are too great for me to desire to have 
 them diminished, by a knowledge of the 
 present. Why, I have held le Friyice Louis 
 in my lap when he was a child. But what 
 is he, to take the place of the Emperor?" 
 
 Welland, whose eyes and ears had been 
 attracted by the conversation of Antonia 
 and Tourtelotte, scarce heard the old lady, 
 and when she ceased, merely said : 
 
 "What indeed?" 
 
 " You can have no idea of the power of 
 his presence," continued Madame, who was 
 sailing into her old recollections, with 
 every stitch of canvass spread. " There 
 was something magnetic in him, which ap- 
 prised you at once of -his vicinity. When 
 you were in a saloon, in tlie full tide of 
 conversation, there was a sudden hesita- 
 
Differences. 68 
 
 tion, a hush, a thrill, which every one felt, 
 when His Majesty entered, though none 
 saw him." 
 
 Welland was stiil intent on his observa- 
 tions. Feeling it necessary to say some- 
 thing, he said : " Indeed?" 
 ' ** Oh," continued Madame, *' he was 
 more than a man, he was greater than a 
 hero, he was mightier than a prophet — he 
 was a genius !" 
 
 And in this strain, all through dinner. 
 After dinner, there were loud demands for 
 
 " Will you not assist me to liberate him?" 
 asked Tourtelotte. 
 
 "No, bring him into the parlor." 
 
 Presently Tourtelotte entered the parlor, 
 laughing with might and main. 
 
 " What is it?" was the general demand. 
 
 *' Excuse me — oh ! I shall die of laugh- 
 ing!" 
 
 '* What in the world is it?" cried all. 
 
 " Come with me. It is indescribable. 
 Please do not ask, but come with me." 
 
 All followed him to the little kitchen, a 
 negro with lights preceding them. 
 
 By the wall lay Mr. Sharp clamoring to 
 be liberated. Before the hearth sat the dog, 
 watchful and wagging his tail in acknowl- 
 edgment of the presence of his master. The 
 burnt turkey, the extinguished fire, the la- 
 menting amateur cook, and the dog, all 
 told the story pf the affair. 
 
 " Call off the dog, Mr. Tourtelotte," cried 
 
64 DiFKKKKNCKB. 
 
 Wellaud, sternly, suspecting that all had 
 been arranged intentionally. 
 
 " And if I should not choose to do so?" 
 asked Tourtelotte. 
 
 "Then the dog must suflfer," replied Wel- 
 land, stepping forward. 
 
 " For God's sake, gentlemen, drive that 
 brute off," cried Sharp. " I am half dead." 
 
 " And you have almost killed me with 
 laughter," said Tourtelotte; "I thank you 
 for this detectable comedy, Mr. Sharp. 
 Wouldn't you like to stay here all night?" 
 
 " Please call the dog, Mr. Tourtelotte," 
 said Antonia. 
 
 "Come here Ugly!" and the houtid fol- 
 lowed his master to the parlor. 
 
 CHAPTER \in. 
 
 It was quite early next morning, when 
 Frank Tourtelotte burst into Welland's 
 room, crying: " Louis Weiland, I believe I 
 was rude to you last night. I am come 
 to offer explanations." " I wish you a ve- 
 ry good morning," returned the other, shak- 
 ing the proffered hand heartily. " As for 
 your explanations, they are superfluous, 
 for I don't remember any thing that 
 calls for them." And he got out of bed. 
 
 " Do you know what brought me over so 
 early?" asked Tourtelotte. "I want to 
 take you back with me to breakfast." 
 
 " And for the sake of paying me this 
 compliment, you have brushed the early 
 
Differences. 65 
 
 dew from the flowers ? I should be very 
 grateful." 
 
 " You don't seem to be ; have I disturbed 
 happy dreams?" 
 
 V Xot at all. However, when you call so 
 early, and invade one's bed-room, you 
 must expect to Avitness one's toilet. Will 
 you take a book ?" 
 
 The Creole picked up a volume, while 
 Welland got out of bed, and dressed. He 
 was soon ready. 
 
 *' Now for my horse," he said. 
 
 " I have taken the liberty of bringing 
 oke of mine, which I request you to make 
 use of for the present," said Tourtelotte. 
 
 •' Thank you. I have my own." 
 
 " But I hope you will try mine. Don't 
 be refractory, for I am bound to have my 
 way this morning." 
 
 " Very well. I deliver myself into your 
 hands." 
 
 The young men descended, and Welland 
 found two beautiful thorough breds wait- 
 ing for them. They mounted, and can- 
 tered away. 
 
 The sun shone brightly,and the birds sang 
 loudly in the merry green trees. The dew- 
 drops glistened on grasses and leaves, and 
 the wild flowers waved from bushes and 
 banks. The summer insects began to hum, 
 and the woods were awake with the rust- 
 ling of boughs. 
 
 Sad, indeed, must be the heart of that 
 man, who can withstand the influences of 
 such a morning, when he is full of health. 
 
66 Differences. 
 
 and mounted on a good horse. At such a 
 time, one is tempted to believe that grief is 
 a chimera. 
 
 Both young men felt their spirits rise, as 
 if with the intoxication of champagne. 
 Both were full to the brim of amiable feel- 
 ings, and altogether they had never had a 
 better opinion of each other, or of the 
 world in general, than at the present mo- 
 ment. 
 
 " What will the ladies say, when they 
 find that I have carried off their guest, in 
 the most unceremonious manner ?" cried 
 Tourtelotte, laying his hand on the neck of 
 the other's horse, as they both walked their 
 animals. 
 
 " I have requested the housekeeper to 
 make my excuses," replied Welland. " Do 
 you know that I am very grateful for your 
 introduction to this family? I admire 
 your friends vastly." 
 
 "All of them?" asked the other, with a 
 mirthful glance. 
 
 "Yes, they are very nice people; each 
 has his salient points." 
 
 "Oh, no doubt; you are quite in love 
 with Madame la Generale, I suppose. Isn't 
 that what you mean?" 
 
 " Not exactly, though Madame is a ven- 
 erable lady, animated by the recollections 
 of a grand time." 
 
 "Yes; Napoleon, and all that. I have 
 heard it so often, that I began to love the 
 Bourbons. So Madame has not captivated 
 you, notwithstanding red satin, feathers 
 
Differences. 67 
 
 and diamonds. Perhaps Mrs. Goldman 
 pleases you?" 
 
 '' Both Mr. and Mrs. Goldman are very 
 estimable people, full of sense and kind- 
 ness. I respect them highly." 
 
 ''Oh, yes, keep in the propriety of lan- 
 guage! 'Sarah, my love,' and 'Goldman 
 my life,' do very well. But, deuce take it, 
 my dear fellow, I don' t mean them, and 
 you know very well, that I don't." 
 
 " Whom do you mean then? Perhaps Mr. 
 Sharp? I am quite charmed with him." 
 
 Tourtelotte burst into a merry laugh. 
 "Wasn't that excellent? Ug deserves a 
 crown of glory for his doings. W^hat a fine 
 hound he is ! He wouldn't let Sharp move 
 a finger, nor even cry out. Our hounds 
 here, will not do that to any one, but a 
 nigger. But Ug is of Australian breed, 
 where they hunt the white convicts with 
 bloodhounds." 
 
 "It was a terrible situation for Sharp," 
 said Welland, smiling, "and I could not 
 but pity the poor fellow." 
 
 " It was worth the best comedy I ever 
 saw enacted," returned Tourtelotte. " But 
 that is not the point I wished to converse 
 on. What I wished to hear, was your 
 opinion of Antonia?" 
 
 "Of Antonia?" raising his brows in pro- 
 test. 
 
 " Of Miss Goldman, then." 
 "Miss Goldman? She is a young lady 
 of very attractive looks, and seems to pos- 
 sess not only accomplishments, but also an 
 5* 
 
68 Differences. 
 
 ease of manner, and sprighlliness of con- 
 versation, quite remarkable." This was 
 said with restraint in the voice, and a 
 forced expression of indifference. 
 
 " What a temperate mind you possess ! 
 Why, Louis Welland, she is a pearl of 
 beauty, and as full of amusing ideas and 
 charming thoughts, as any human being 
 ever was. In short," he cried with liquid 
 eyes, " she is the loveliest woman in the 
 world!" 
 
 "Mr. Tourtelotte— " 
 
 " Don't call me Mr. Tourtelotte— I have 
 proposed that we should be friends, let me 
 urge the iuioyer. Call me Frank, and let 
 me call you Liouis." 
 
 Welland hesitated a moment, but was 
 deeply touched by the open-hearted conti- 
 dence of the other. He looked at Tourte- 
 lotte's beseeching eyes, and said; 
 
 "Be it so. Frank, we are friends." 
 
 They shook hands upon it. 
 
 "There is my house," said Frank, point- 
 ing to a large white building, which was 
 almost entombed in the enormous old mul- 
 berry trees, that encompassed it. They 
 w^ere riding through an extensive planta- 
 tion, cultivated in a high degree. Fields of 
 almost fabulous extent, planted with wheat 
 and corn, skirted either side of the road. 
 In the distance, meadows upon which cat- 
 tle were grazing, bordered on a broad 
 brook. 
 
 They put spurs to their horses and in a 
 few minutes dismounted at the door of the 
 
Differences. G9 
 
 house. A negro took the horses, and Tour- 
 telotte at once led Welland into the parlor, 
 and introdviced him to his cousin, a lady 
 considerably older than himself. She led 
 the way to the breakfast room, and did the 
 honors ; both gentlemen gave evidence of a 
 sharpened appetite, by the way in which 
 they disposed of the viands. 
 
 The breakfast being concluded, Miss 
 Tourtelotte excused herself, and left the 
 friends alone. Frank immediately sent 
 for a bottle of wine. The servant received 
 the keys from his master, and brought a 
 bottle, dingy, old, and covered with dust. 
 
 ** This is the best wine I have in the 
 house," said Tourtelotte, applying the 
 corkscrew. " It is Liebfrauenmilch of 1811, 
 and was purchased by my father." 
 
 He drew the cork, and a rich vinous 
 aroma filled the room. The servant had 
 placed two Venetian glasses before them, 
 and when the wine was poured out, it 
 proved as thick as oil, and as yellow as 
 gold. It shone with transcendent beauty 
 in the light-spun goblets, and see-med to 
 emit golden gleams and hues. 
 
 "To our friendship," said Welland, lift- 
 ing his glass. 
 
 " That shall be the second toast. Forgive 
 me, but the first must be : * to Antonia !' " 
 
 They clinked glasses and drank it, but 
 with different feelings. 
 
 The wine was exquisite. All the poetry 
 of the Rhine Valley, and all the sunniness 
 of that garden of Germany seemed embod- 
 
70 Differences. 
 
 ied in each drop. It would have been 
 
 mockery to praise it. But Tourtelotte 
 
 said: 
 
 *' It is worthy of the toast." 
 
 And now he began to grow more confi- 
 dential. 
 
 *' She returned from France a year ago," 
 he said, '' and I have loved her ever since. 
 She occupies all my thoughts, she is the 
 aim of all my hopes. If I imagine Heaven , 
 it is with but a single angel, and that is 
 Antonia." 
 
 " Your feelings are strong, no doubt," 
 said Wellaud, kindly. *' But is it well to 
 give way to them to such an extent ?" 
 
 " How can I restrain myself when she is 
 the subject? But— j'ou are right. I will 
 speak calmly, and give you a practical 
 view of our relations. Miss Goldman — 
 isn't Antonia a pretty name?" 
 
 "Very." 
 
 " Miss Goldman is kind and friendly to 
 me, and I am treated with more confidence 
 by her, than any other gentleman of her ac- 
 quaintance. But, whenever I assume a 
 warmer tone, she so adroitly escapes fall- 
 ing in with it, that I have often thought 
 that this might be the consequence of some 
 prohibition, or, perhajDS, some resolve of 
 her own." 
 
 ** Who would prohibit ? Are the parents 
 adverse?" 
 
 " On the contrary. I have sounded them 
 both, as much as I could, without distinct 
 encouragement from Antonia. Both seem 
 favorably inclined," 
 
DlFFEKENCES. 71 
 
 "I can not see where the obstacle is, 
 then." 
 
 " Nor can I. But I feel that there is an 
 obstacle. At times I get so discouraged, 
 that I am like a madman, and ride to town, 
 and riot and gamble, and generally return 
 a great deal poorer than I went." 
 
 " That is not my remedy for disappoint- 
 ment." 
 
 " I know. Nor ought it to be mine, on 
 more accounts than one." 
 
 " It ruins your health." 
 
 "And my fortune. There are enough 
 mortgages on the old plantation from my 
 father's time, to incline me to save, instead 
 of dissi])ating, what is left." 
 
 " The estate must yield a great income." 
 
 " It does, but it wants improvements. It 
 could yield almost double, what it does 
 now. The Goldmans are rich, rich in ready 
 money — " 
 
 " What are you saying?" 
 
 *•' And were I to marry Autonia, I might 
 pay off all mortgages, and make the place 
 the finest, and most productive in Tennes- 
 see." 
 
 ** You do not mean that ! If you love the 
 lady, for God's sake don't mix any mercan- 
 tile calculations with j^-our passion." 
 
 " What dreamers you Germans are ! Al- 
 w^ays trjang to balance upon the rope of 
 pure perfection, high above all the rest of 
 humanity ! Of course I do not think of her 
 father's money, when I wish to marry An- 
 tonia. But loving her, and wishing to 
 
72 Differences. 
 
 marry her, I am very glad that the father 
 is rich, so as to aid me in re-establishing 
 tlie glory of our old famil^^" 
 
 Welland drank his wine in silence. 
 
 A servant entered, and brought a note to 
 Tourtelotte. 
 
 " My dear Louis, you will excuse me?" 
 and broke the seal. A shadow passed over 
 his countenance as he read. When he had 
 finished, he crumbled the paper in his 
 hand, and gulped down the rest of the wine. 
 
 '' I am notified of the arrival of two gen- 
 tlemen on business," he said, turning to 
 Welland, " and must take advantage of 
 your kindness, to beg you to excuse me for 
 half an hour." 
 
 " Pray, do not put yourself out, in the 
 least," replied Welland. '* I shall at once 
 ride back to Pineland." This was the 
 name, which the Goldmans had given to 
 their estate. 
 
 Tourtelotte looked relieved. "I shall 
 probably join you in the evening," he said, 
 pressing the other's hand. 
 
 The servant was called, while Welland 
 took leave of Miss Tourtelotte in the gar- 
 den. Then he mounted. About to start 
 off", he happened to look up. There were 
 two faces at the parlor window. One was 
 thatofHassel the gambler, the other be- 
 longed to Reichenau the merchant. 
 
 Welland galloped back with a puzzled 
 face. 
 
Differences. 73 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 In Welland's head thoughts were bnsy. 
 To find Hassel in Tourtelotte's mansion 
 ■was very strange ; stranger yet, that his 
 friend, who, doubtless, was apprised of the 
 presence of the gambler, should not allude 
 to him in the least. Still, as Hassel was 
 the agent of a political party, his visit 
 might find its explanation in this. But 
 Reichenau the merchant, had probably 
 come, as usual among Northern men of 
 capital, to arrange for the purchase of next 
 fall's harvest from Tourtelotte. 
 
 So the young German dismissed the mat- 
 ter from his mind. And now came one of 
 those internal battles, that are put off by 
 the weak in character, and fought out by 
 the strong; one of those combats between 
 the natural inclinations of the heart, and 
 the teachings and experiences of education, 
 that occur in every life again and again, 
 and which often leave the soul wounded 
 and desolate, crying tor bread and receiv- 
 ing a stone. 
 
 It was clear, that after the confidences of 
 that morning, honor demanded of Welland 
 to abstain from making the least effort to 
 win Antonia Goldman's affections. Worldly 
 wisdom had demanded it from the first, in 
 consequence of the great disparity of for- 
 tune and social position between the par- 
 ties. But worldly wisdom is little heeded 
 by Germans of education, while honor is 
 their dictator par excellence. So our friend 
 
74 Differences. 
 
 resolutely set about tearing down those 
 splendid air castles of the previous after- 
 noon, and tried to banish the form, that 
 would flit before his vision. He finally- 
 succeeded in convincing himself, by very 
 logical arguments, that there were no such 
 things as blue ^ding habits, and that white 
 plumes only existed in excited imagina- 
 tions. 
 
 He had almost reached Pineland, when a 
 horse cantered up to him, and the deep, 
 rich voice that made his heart thrill with 
 pleasure, said : 
 
 " It seems that you even dream on horse- 
 back, Mr. Welland. You must be the 
 knight Heine sings of, who is asleep all 
 day, and only wakes up at midnight, when 
 the fairies and water nymphs visit his 
 room." 
 
 She sat on the gray pony, with the blue 
 habit sweeping almost to the ground, and 
 the white plume waving in the breeze. In 
 sunny confusion hung her golden hair, and 
 the sea-blue eyes twinkled with merri- 
 ment. 
 
 "You are right. Miss Goldman," he said, 
 sadly. "All my real existence lies in the 
 dreamy regions of memory, and my present 
 life is but a heavy sleep." 
 
 " Don't frighten me wath these sentences 
 a la Jean Paul. I am at once the most 
 frivolous, and the most practical girl in the 
 world, and I deny the existence of dreams 
 altogether." 
 
 " Have you never dreamt ?", 
 
Differences. 75 
 
 ** Never in my life. And I hope I never 
 will, for I should be afraid to go to bed, 
 ever after." 
 
 *• You are one of those fortunate mortals, 
 that enjoy all the glories of the world in 
 reality, and therefore have no need of 
 dreams, to gild a poor existence." 
 
 "I believe I am, and simply because I 
 have a heart lull of joy," said the young 
 girl. " Everj)- external object takes its 
 color from one's own feelings." 
 
 "But those feelings are not under the 
 control of the will. It is as vain to order 
 a serious man to laugh, as it is to bid a 
 merry one weep." 
 
 • ** I shall not be led upon the dangerous 
 ground of argument, by a University man. 
 You are our guest, and I mean to chase 
 away your dark spirits, whether it be ac- 
 cording to the rules of logic, or i:ot." 
 
 " You have but to command," replied 
 Welland, breaking into a smile, in return 
 for the rosebud gleam of those lips, which 
 almost made him forget his resolutions, 
 " j^ou have but to command, and all dark 
 spirits vanish." 
 
 " I do command then. Do you know," 
 she said, with charming confidence, "that 
 when I heard what a learned person you 
 were, I feared that you would not talk with 
 me on my favorite authors, but always des" 
 cant on mathematics, astronomy, and all 
 the rest of the hard sciences ?" 
 
 " So you denied me all poetic appreciation 
 a priori:? And then found that I was a 
 
76 Differences. 
 
 dreamer and an imaginative person? What 
 
 a disappointment !" 
 
 " On tlie contrary, I rejoice over it. I 
 have long desired to know somebody, with 
 whom I could talk of the literature of the 
 present age. My aunt takes interest in 
 these matters, but her latest literary recol- 
 lection is of Goethe." 
 
 " And you consider Goethe superannu- 
 ated?" 
 
 " You are sure to laugh at me, but Goethe 
 has ceased to live with the French revolu- 
 tion." 
 
 "My dear Miss Goldman, Goethe is im- 
 mortal." 
 
 " As a historical object. But as a living 
 presence, influencing the men of this world, 
 his activity ceased with the French revolu- 
 tion." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " Because he entered into combat with 
 it, and the God manifested in the uprising 
 of that nation, was more powerful, than 
 the Apollo that inspired Goethe." 
 
 " And who, then, is his successor?" 
 
 " You will again laugh at me." 
 
 " I am not inclined to do so." 
 
 ".The only successor Goethe has on the 
 fields of literature and humanity, is George 
 Sand." 
 
 "George Sand? that spasmodic, senti- 
 mental, spirit-conjuring French woman? 
 My dear Miss Goldman, permit me to sus- 
 pect, that either you do not appreciate 
 what is highest in Goethe, or that you can 
 
Differences. 77 
 
 not recognize what is lowest in George 
 Sand." 
 
 "I have earnestly tried to understand 
 both, and in their respective ages, I find 
 their tendencies identical. As for Goethe's 
 immortality, or any one else's, it consists 
 in having influenced his age beneficially, 
 and having led it nearer to the high aims 
 ot humanity. Therefore, in connection 
 with the history of that age, he will always 
 be remembered." 
 
 " You seem to imply, that no man influ- 
 ences any age, but his own?" observed 
 Welland, smiling, and keeping upon the 
 surface of the subject, as the manners of 
 good society require one to do. Pedants 
 and bores only turn the saloon into a lec- 
 ture room. 
 
 "I do not think any man does, and 
 therefore I will call no one immortal. The 
 only influence that pervades and moves all 
 ages, and the only one deserving the at- 
 tribute of immortality, is that of God." 
 
 There was no reply possible to this re- 
 mark, and keep on the footing of light con- 
 versation. So Welland merely bowed. 
 
 He liked just now to get into this sort of 
 conversation with Antonia. It helped him 
 to guard his heart. Talk of this kind, like 
 loose fragments and rubbish, would serve 
 as a foundation to rear that wall of indiffer- 
 ence upon, which honor bade him build 
 between them. And beside, it is exceed- 
 ingly amusing, to hear a woman handle 
 heavy subjects in a right feminine manner. 
 
78 Differences. 
 
 They have such graceful ways of disposing 
 of difficulties, and jumping at results, that 
 logic bows humbly before them. 
 
 They arrived at Pineland, continuing to 
 talk in this light strain, and Welland 
 helped the lady to dismount. He had be- 
 gun to think, that it was not so difficult af- 
 ter all, to turn an embryo passion into 
 friendship and mere regard. But when he 
 assisted Antonia from her pony, and felt 
 her light weight on his shoulder, when a 
 flying curl brushed his cheek, and the blue 
 habit swept around him, there was a rush 
 of blood to his head, and it was with diffi- 
 culty he preserved appearances. 
 
 After lunch, Mr. Sellington Sharp invited 
 the young man to visit his office, which 
 lay in a distant corner of the house ; from 
 thence they took a walk to some of the ne- 
 gro huts. 
 
 " Really," said Welland, looking at the 
 nice little frame huts, ** these laborers seem 
 to be pretty well off, but why do you do 
 nothing to reform their morals ? I have 
 heard queer stories of the domestic rela- 
 tions consequent upon their state of bond- 
 age." 
 
 " My dear sir," replied Sharp, *' what do 
 you call reform ? Now I call reform, Avhen 
 you show me a silver water pitcher ; we 
 have no use for that, but we want a tea-pot; 
 so I take it, and I melt it down, and fash- 
 ion a tea-pot out of it. That's reforming. 
 But if I had no pitcher to make the tea-pot 
 out of, I couldn't reform. The niggers 
 
Differences. 79 
 
 have no morals. How are you going to re- 
 form their morals then ?" 
 
 Welland laughed heartily at this illus- 
 tration of the subject. He saw that it 
 wouldn't do, to argue with Mr. Sharp ; and 
 Mr. Sharp took great glory in having si- 
 lenced the other. 
 
 "What did Mrs. Goldman tell me you 
 were?" asked the manager. 
 
 " A surveyor. A man that measures and 
 lays out the public lands." 
 
 "A surveyor," repeated Mr. Sharp, 
 slowly. *' A surveyor? That can not be a 
 very paying position?" 
 
 Welland blushed. "So it is sufficient 
 for my necessities, the matter does not con- 
 cern any one else." 
 
 " How excitable these young men are," 
 said Sharp, chuckling. "Fire and flame, 
 kicking off the cover and flying out of the 
 pot ! My dear sir, I meant no insult, and 
 it was not mere curiosity made me ask the 
 question. For I respect you highly, and 
 owe you thanks for your timely assist- 
 ance." 
 
 "My timely assistance? When?" 
 "When that bloodthirsty 'monster was 
 locked in with me, yesterday evening. 
 Aha, it may be a very good joke for Mon- 
 sieur Tourtelotte to frighten a timid, lonely 
 man with his hounds and his beasts, but 
 he earns no good will thereby, I tell you ; 
 he earns no good will thereby. But to re- 
 turn to yourself, Mr. Welland, if you will 
 permit me." 
 
80 Differences. 
 
 ** If I am a suflB.ciently interesting subject 
 for you, sir," said Welland, reluctantly, 
 " which I rather doubt." 
 
 " I never talk of what doesn't interest 
 me," returned Mr. Sharp, without heeding 
 the young man's manner. " A surveyor, 
 you say ? "What a queer business for a 
 Jew. An Israelite and a surveyor — I can't 
 understand it. I can't make it out." 
 
 " Perhaps it is not necessary." 
 
 " But it is. Now, what a pity ! Here is 
 our little Antonia, just in the age when she 
 
 should . But no. A surveyor ? That 
 
 can not be. What a pity !" 
 
 "Sir," cried Welland, " all patience has 
 bounds. As long as you talk of me, I 
 must sufifer j'ou to do so. But pray, leave 
 Miss Goldman out of the question." 
 
 **My dear Mr. Welland, 1 am not likely 
 to talk ill of her. I have carried her in my 
 arms too often, and love her too much, the 
 dear child ! But, I merely express one of 
 my most fervent wishes, in saying that I 
 should like to see Miss Goldman married, 
 and married to one of her own religion, 
 Avho in other respects was worthy of her." 
 
 Welland was silent, while Sharp scruti- 
 nized his features with those ferret ej^es. 
 
 " You forget," said the young man at last. 
 " How recent a friend of the family I am. 
 I think highly of Mr. and Mrs. Goldman 
 and their daughter, but am not sufficiently 
 interested in Miss Goldman's future hus- 
 band, to make him a subject of conjec- 
 ture." 
 
DiPFEKENOES. 81 
 
 " Are you not ?" asked Sharp, slyly. 
 " Oh no I Of course not. How can you be? 
 Not at all." 
 ** What in the world do you mean?" 
 " Mean ? Nothing. You know, there 
 are old fools, that imagine they can read 
 young men's faces. But that is all bosh. 
 No ! How can you be interested in such a 
 thing? Not you, certainly. But our neigh- 
 bor Tourtelotte is." 
 ** You speak in enigmas, Mr. Sharp ?" 
 *' Do I ? That is one of my ways. Sharp 
 is no fool, however. He hasn't got any 
 learning, and has what Madame la Gener- 
 ale calls * horrid manners.' He may eat 
 his soup like a horse, and grease his boots 
 instead of blacking them, which is injuri- 
 ous to leather. But Sharp can see through 
 a millstone, as far as any body." 
 
 With this, Mr. Sharp closed one eye, and 
 with the other, gazed into the millstone 
 aforesaid, in a manner that must have 
 penetrated any sublunary millstone what- 
 ever. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 At the distance of a couple of miles from 
 the old town of Sycamore, surrounded by 
 venerable pine woods, was a race course, 
 which the people of the neighborhood fre- 
 quently made use of. It was a mile track, 
 and always kept in excellent condition. — 
 The immense lawn which it encircled was 
 level as a board, and the sombre woods 
 that arose at a little distance from its 
 
82 Differences. 
 
 external margin, seemed the dark waUs 
 of a vast Rotunda. It was a beautiful spot. 
 The sunlit green of the lawn required no 
 better set-oflf than the dark gloom of the 
 pines. 
 
 There were two classes in the neighbor- 
 hood, that matched their horses on this 
 course. The one, consisting of plain farm- 
 ers and small proprietors, brought horses 
 of their own rearing. The other, was made 
 up of wealthy town-folks, and of the own- 
 ers of great landed estates. These ran 
 horses of northern and foreign breed, and 
 also fancy stock of their own raising. 
 A mong the first class, betting w^as moder- 
 ate, and professionals staid away, because 
 there was little chance of fleecing. But the 
 races of the more aristocratic fanciers, at- 
 tracted the usual number of blacklegs and 
 scoundrels^ High betting was the rule at 
 these latter races. People would come 
 from the adjoining counties in their car- 
 riages, and the elite of the neighborhood 
 depended in a measure on the races, for 
 meeting their friends. Now and then, the 
 two classes would join in an affair on a 
 larger scale, and then, there would be 
 something like a ball in the evening for the 
 plain folks, and a reception at a private 
 house, for the prouder classes. 
 
 It was about two months after the events 
 related in the preceding chapters, that one 
 of the aristocratic races was to come off. 
 Welland had been surveying in the neigh- 
 borhood, during most of this time. He 
 
Differences. 83 
 
 had been a frequent guest of the Gold- 
 mans ; sometimes dropping in for dinner, 
 and again stopping for a couple of days. 
 The cordial reception always given, and 
 the urgent invitations to repeat his visit as 
 often as possible, moved him to ride to 
 Pineland more frequently, than his own 
 prudence sanctioned. True, he was always 
 busy erecting and strengthening the wall, 
 that was to separate him from Antonia. 
 But it was to little purpose. It was like 
 those buildings of German legends, where 
 the fairies undo at night what the masons 
 have accomplished during the day. One 
 ride with the young lady, nay, a glance and 
 a smile, would often tear down Avbat he 
 had labored to build up for weeks. 
 
 Meanwhile he was high in favor with the 
 other members of the family. Having es- 
 tablished, beyond a doubt, that the dis- 
 puted hillside belonged to Mr. Goldman, 
 he was petted by Mrs. Goldman, in return. 
 This lady, moreover, was secretly im- 
 pressed by the young man's distinguished 
 air, and by the mystery which she supposed 
 to underlie his history and position. Mr. 
 Goldman simply liked him. But Madame 
 Ja Generale, to whose reminiscences he 
 lent a polite ear, absolutely doted on him. 
 It had not happened to her for a long time, 
 to find a gentleman young, handsome and 
 well-bred, who took such interest in the af- 
 fairs of the first empire, and who listened 
 with such unremitting courtesy to the rela- 
 tions of court scandal, that implicated peo- 
 6* 
 
84 Differences. 
 
 pie now mostly dead, or in their dotage. 
 
 Welland's relations to Tourtelotte had 
 undergone a slight change. As he endeav- 
 ored to become cold to Antonia, so he stim- 
 ulated himself to an exhibition of greater 
 cordiality toward this young Creole. No 
 one knew better how to charm, than he. 
 In consequence of his exertions, then, 
 Tourtelotte's friendship for him increased. 
 But the reaction of this stimulation made 
 Welland almost indifferent to Tourtelotte. 
 He had been the latter's guest once or 
 twice, but their tastes were too incompati- 
 ble to make a long stay very agreeable. 
 Nevertheless Tourtelotte insisted on riding 
 about with Welland, and thus introduced 
 him to half the good houses in the county. 
 
 We were saying that a race was about to 
 take place. There was a numerous assem- 
 bly of lookers on. Vehicles of all sorts, 
 filled with all sorts of people, were gath- 
 ered near the judges' stand. Carriages 
 containing whole families, together with 
 servants, formed points of attraction for 
 the ladies and gentlemen on horseback. 
 Here and there these groups assumed con- 
 siderable dimensions. It was a gay sight. 
 The ladies wore habits of bright colors, in 
 the English style, while some of the gentle- 
 men indulged in light clothes. The pleas- 
 ant laugh and chatter of females was 
 heard everywhere, and all present seemed 
 determined to make merry. 
 
 Welland was there. A close fitting black 
 velvet riding suit showed his figure to ad- 
 
Differences. 85 
 
 vantage. His horse, though not a very- 
 valuable animal, looked nicely. And the 
 tout ensemble of the man was tasteful, quiet 
 and distinguished. 
 
 In a roomy carriage sat the Goldman 
 family. Madame la Generale was dressed 
 in purple and fine linen, and displayed 
 the graces of fifty years ago. Mrs. Gold- 
 man set the female world in agitation, by 
 the display of a bonnet, newly imported 
 from France. Her diamonds were the fin- 
 est on the ground. Mr. Goldman and 
 Sharp occupied the front seat, and con- 
 versed about business. 
 
 Antonia was on her pony, in the light 
 blue habit. She came escorted by Tourte- 
 lotte, who had entered one of his horses. 
 When they arrived on the ground, Tourte- 
 lotte galloped to Welland, and requested 
 him to take charge of the young lady. He 
 himself had some arrangements to perfect 
 regarding his horse, that %\as to run. So 
 Welland and Miss Goldman rode over the 
 ground together, and they made a very 
 handsome couple, as, flushed with exer- 
 cise, they came in on their heated animals, 
 and stopped in the neighborhood of the 
 Goldman carriage. Mr. Sharp immedi- 
 ately closed one eye, and with the other 
 gazed into his millstone. 
 
 Meanwhile, Tourtelotte had ridden to the 
 stand, where he met our old acquaintance 
 Hassel. They exchanged a few hasty 
 words, and compared their betting books. 
 Then Hassel said : 
 
86 Differences. 
 
 "I have seen the horses. Make only 
 light bets on your gray mare, for she'll not 
 come in first. You can go into partnership 
 with me." 
 
 "With you? Excuse me." said Tourte- 
 lotte, proudly. 
 
 " I don't think it would hurt your pride 
 to pocket a few thousands to-daj', Mr. 
 Tourtelotte." 
 
 " But how can it be done, if the gray 
 loses?" 
 
 ** By becoming my partner. I'll bet 
 heavily against her." 
 
 " Will you find people to take j'our 
 bets?" 
 
 " Plenty, if you'll introduce me?" 
 
 "Very well," said Tourtelotte. " I ne^d 
 money. Consider me your partner for to- 
 day." 
 
 "All right sir. See, whether it doesn't 
 .pay." 
 
 " Excuse me for a moment. I will be 
 with you presently." Tourtelotte cantered 
 -bdck to Miss Goldman, to make apologies 
 for absenting himself until the race was 
 over. While still engaged in this, the im- 
 patient Hassel joined the group, and with 
 his usual impertinence, said: 
 
 " Beg your pardon Mr. Tourtelotte, but 
 the time is short. 1 apologize to the lady 
 for my intrusion." 
 
 Tourtelotte could not escape presenting 
 him to Miss Goldman, and also to Welland. 
 The young lady bowed, smiling atfabl^'. 
 Welland looked straight at Hassel, as if he 
 
Differences. 87 
 
 was so much empty air, and did not seem 
 to notice the introduction. When Hassel 
 bowed to him, he changed not a feature, 
 but deliberately turned his back to the 
 gambler. 
 
 The two partners galloped off, 
 
 " Mr. Tourtelotte's friend seems to be a 
 stranger in this region," said Antonia. 
 She had, with surprise, noticed Welland's 
 manner, and now, following the others 
 with her eyes, saw Tourtelotte introduce 
 Hassel to a group of the first gentlemen of 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 "I believe so," replied Welland, in an 
 absent way. 
 
 " I hoped that I cured you of dreaming," 
 laughed Antonia. " But you are so deep 
 in thoughts, that I believe you did not no- 
 tice that a gentleman was introduced to 
 you." 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons. Have I an- 
 noyed you?" 
 
 " And if you have?" A roguish smile 
 showed her ravishing teeth, between her 
 parted lips. 
 
 " I should be deserving of your displeas- 
 ure. I know of no severer punishment to 
 me on earth." His voice had grown deep 
 and earnest. As he spoke the concluding 
 words, it became that heart-voice, which, 
 when we hear it, convi nces us at once, that 
 the speaker has given expression to his 
 deepest feelings. 
 
 Antonia blushed, and cast down her ra- 
 diant eyes. There was a moment of si- 
 
88 Differences. 
 
 lence, during which these two were uncon- 
 scious of all the world beside ; when the 
 bright heavens and the dark woods, the 
 prancing horses and the chatting people, 
 existed not for them. They seemed bewil- 
 dered, floating away in empty space, car- 
 ried by a will not their own, and in a di- 
 rection, they knew not whither. 
 
 This reverie was broken by Madame la 
 Generale, who called Welland, and re- 
 quested the couple to come within speak- 
 ing distance of the carriage. They walked 
 their horses to either side of the vehicle. 
 Welland could not help observing Mr. 
 Sharp, who, one eye closed, had with the 
 other been taking a look into his millstone, 
 and seemed to have derived much satisfac- 
 tion therefrom, for he sported that sort of 
 grin, which a man puts on, when he says; 
 I told you so! This expression, however, 
 gave way to one of terror, as Welland's 
 horse put his nose out toward him. 
 
 " For heaven's sake turn that animal," 
 he cried. ** It is looking at me with fiery 
 eyes, and horses have been known to bite." 
 
 " I'll promise you this will not make any 
 such attempt." 
 
 "Perhaps. But they can bite if they 
 choose." 
 
 " Very few have been known to choose," 
 said Mr. Goldman. 
 
 " Still, I will not be at the mercy of a 
 horse's caprices," replied Mr. Sharp. 
 
 The horse was placed in a different posi- 
 tion, and Madame la Generale secured 
 
Differences. 89 
 
 Welland's attention to a reminiscence of 
 her own, in which there was a lengthy ac- 
 count of a race at the Imperial Court, 
 where His Majesty the King of Naples 
 had insisted on riding his own horse, and 
 had appeared in full uniform as marshal 
 of France, with sword and plumes, to do 
 so. And how^ somebody had said, that he 
 should have carried the sceptre in his hand. 
 Whereupon Murat replied, that, though he 
 did not carry this sceptre, he carried an ex- 
 cellent whip for impertinent persons. 
 
 At this moment the signal was given, 
 and the horses started. There were three 
 competitors for the first prize. A splendid 
 four year old progeny of Black Hawk, took 
 the lead. Then followed, close to him, 
 Tourtelotte's gray mare, a rather heavy 
 animal, but of large stride and immense 
 power. Third and last came a bay mare, 
 with an awkward head, and big body, and 
 legs that, though long and powerful, were 
 not at all well looking. This mare had 
 been raised in the county, and was put 
 upon the course by a farmer, who endured 
 the jokes on her appearance, with great 
 equanimity. The horses were all ridden 
 by mulatto boys. 
 
 The two horses that had the lead, in- 
 creased the distance between them and the 
 farmer's mare, for a little while. Finally 
 the latter seemed to understand that this 
 was a race, and with a snort she threw up 
 her head, until her nose was parallel to her 
 ears, and bounded off like a stag flying be- 
 
90* Differences. 
 
 fore the hounds. A moment, and she 
 had reached the other horses ; another, and 
 she had passed them. " Claiborne," as the 
 farmer had named her, proved the winner. 
 Those immense joints, and awkward look- 
 ing limbs, had been of good service. A 
 quarter of an hour ago, no one would have 
 given two hundred dollars for the horse, 
 now the farmer was offered thousands. 
 But he patted Claiborne, and refused all 
 offers. 
 
 As Welland turned his head, he met 
 Hassel's eye, who had approached him. 
 The gambler frowned, and whispered : 
 
 " You have declared war against me. 
 Take heed to yourself. Remember, Louis 
 Welland, that all means are fair in self-de- 
 fense," And he rode off. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The widow Waddlekins was an import- 
 ant personage in Sycamore. Her house 
 stood on the principal street. Her family 
 was as old as the Alleghanies. And her 
 respectability was above proof. 
 
 She had been a beauty in her youth. ' t 
 least she said so. A nd what ladies say in 
 regard to their charms, is always true. I : 
 would have been difficult to discover it 
 now. But no matter. She said it had been 
 so. At present, she was very stout. Cor- 
 pulent she called it. Corpulent it was, be- 
 yond a doubt. 
 
 Her means were rather limited. Her 
 grandfather had possessed fabulous w^ealth, 
 
Differences. 91 
 
 she said, but in a moment of ill-judged be- 
 nevolence, had liberated his slaves. That 
 was long ago, in Virginia. From that pe- 
 riod, the family had declined. Mrs. Wad- 
 dlekins herself had married Mr. Waddle- 
 kins when quite young. lie made ducks 
 and drakes of the remnants of her grand- 
 father's fortune, and when he had reduced 
 the family possessions to a mere compe- 
 tence, he died in a highly respectable man- 
 ner, and was buried with all the honors of 
 a good citizen, a regular church-member, 
 and a loving husband. From that mo- 
 ment, Mrs. Waddlekins began to grow fat, 
 and to assume a prominent position in 
 town. Her black gown and widow's cap 
 presided at all meetings and parties, and 
 no evening amusement was thought to 
 have received the baptism of respectability 
 if Mrs. Waddlekins was absent. 
 
 Providence had furnished this venerable 
 lady with a family anecdote, which was 
 forever her pride, and the stock of her con- 
 versation. It seems that in the revolution- 
 ary war, her grandfather of benevolent and 
 slave-liberating memory, had inclined 
 somewhat to peace doctrines, and^ con- 
 ceived that he might be able to put an end 
 to the bloodshed going on. Full of this 
 idea, he presented himself in camp at Gen- 
 eral Washington's tent, and remonstrated 
 with him on the sinfulness of waging war. 
 The general listened to his arguments, and 
 then replied, that it was the British who 
 waged war against him, and that he should 
 
92 Differences. 
 
 be very happy to stop, if they would let 
 him. Further conversations developed a 
 friendship between the great General and 
 the eccentric old man, and the name of 
 Washington lived in the family, as that of 
 one, in whose glory they claimed a share. 
 Mrs. Waddlekins had a picture of the 
 great man in everj^ room of her house. On 
 one he was portrayed as sitting with icy 
 composure upon a high stepping horse, 
 with his hat in one hand, and the other 
 forever pointing at the American flag. On 
 another, he was in the position of a soldier, 
 with black small clotlies, a white apron, 
 and a hat over his eyes, and masonic em- 
 blems scattered wildly about. Again, he 
 galloped over a mass of cannons, and Brit- 
 ish soldiers, pointing proudly to the upper 
 right hand corner of the gilded frame, with 
 a sword, that was twice as long as himself. 
 Sitting at a table Avith his family, and dy- 
 ing in his bed — in short, in every possible 
 and many impossible positions, Mrs. Wad- 
 dlekins possessed portraits of the General, 
 and averred that each and every one of 
 them was a true likeness. 
 
 She also had a daughter, and she made 
 the most of her. Miss Waddlekins was 
 soft-hearted, and full of romantic notions. 
 She had more kindness than sense, and 
 more sense than beauty, and more beauty 
 than grace. Whenever she broke out into 
 the old song: "Youth has departed!" she 
 made a perfectly correct assertion in re- 
 gard to herself. 
 
DiFFEKENCES. 93 
 
 Louis Welland had been kindly accepted 
 as a boarder by Mrs. Waddlekins, during 
 his stay in Sycamore. She did s® merely 
 to accommodate him, for, as Mrs. Waddle- 
 kins observed to a circle of female friends : 
 '* No one could presume to think that the 
 pecuniary recompense was an object to 
 her." " Of course not," echoed all. " It 
 was very kind of Mrs. Waddlekins to be- 
 friend the young man." 
 
 On.the evening of the day on which the 
 races had been held, there was a reception 
 at the Mayor's house, and Welland was 
 destined to escort Mrs. and Miss Waddle- 
 kins 1 hither. Of course there was no sup- 
 per before going, but the elder lady made 
 a cup of tea, to stay their stomach. A ne- 
 gress of fabulous age, who formed the only 
 representative of that order, whom Mrs. 
 Waddlekins styled *' her servant," brought 
 it, in cups of curious old China, full of 
 cracks. The teaspoons were of silver, but 
 worn down to a sharp edge, and battered 
 and straightened again until thej^ had lost 
 all shape. Both ladies were in gala cos- 
 tume. Mrs. Waddlekins wore black satin, 
 a dress that had been much admired 
 twenty years before. It is true, the shape 
 of the waist was old-fashioned, and beside 
 being cut low, it ended in a sharp point be- 
 fore and behind. Also on account of the 
 corpulency of the wearer it was impossible 
 to fasten more than two hooks at the top. 
 But the formidable breach thus left open, 
 was deftly covered by a cashmere shawl, 
 
94 Differences. 
 
 which Mrs. TVaddlekins never laid aside. 
 There was a perfect plantation of artificial 
 flowers on her head. Miss Waddlekins 
 languished in white, with a juvenile sash 
 of pink tarletan. Both ladies sat down 
 with exceeding care, and took their tea 
 with suitable precautions. 
 
 The Mayor's house was brilliantly illu- 
 minated. The parlors were handsomely 
 adorned with flowers, and a band of three 
 musicians allured the young to the sitting- 
 room, where dancing was going on. The 
 old people played cards in the library. 
 
 Welland, after depositing his charges, 
 the one in the librar}', and the other in the 
 ball room, looked for Miss Goldman. She 
 was not in the house. He searched the 
 garden. Leaning against an old, upright 
 trunk, covered with ivy, stood Antonia, 
 bathed in the bright rays of the moon. She 
 was deep in thoughts. As Welland ap- 
 proached, she turned and blushed, and ac- 
 cepted his arm. They walked slowly up 
 and down. 
 
 He never knew, or could recollect what 
 they talked of, in that bright moonshiny 
 walk under the trees. He was scarce con- 
 scious of what he said, or of what she re- 
 plied. He seemed to be walking on clouds, 
 and talking without any voluntary efl'ort. 
 All he remembered was, that he felt su- 
 premely happy, and that she was leaning 
 on his arm, and her eyes were looking into 
 his, and that finally he was left at the door 
 of the library, with a tuberose in his hand, 
 which she had given him. 
 
DiFFEBENCES. 95 
 
 He had little time to regain his compos- 
 ure, for Madame la Generale immediately 
 called him : 
 
 " My dear Mr. Welland, pray sit down 
 here. T have been playing whist, and have 
 lost constantly. As His Majesty was wont 
 to observe : I have no luck at these English 
 games, owing to the faults of my part- 
 ners." 
 
 Mrs. Waddlekins was Madame's partner. 
 She bridled immediately. 
 
 "Mr. Welland," she cried, "General 
 Washington was in the habit of remarking 
 to my grandfather : The French are a per- 
 fect nation. They never commit any 
 faults. They attribute them to others," 
 
 This was the signal for war. Madame's 
 country had been attacked. She feigned 
 not to notice the stout body of her oppo- 
 nent, but seemed to look straight through 
 her at a distant landscape, and said : 
 
 " What a pity the emperor never turned 
 his attention to America ! He might have 
 annexed it, notwithstanding the patriotism 
 of its large women." 
 
 " They do not know what a good figure 
 is in France," said Mrs. Waddlekins, lay- 
 ing her hand on Welland's left arm. 
 " Their great emperor was little more than 
 a dwarf. Washington was a man of proper 
 height, as my grandfather often said." 
 
 " The emperor, my dear sir," said Ma- 
 dame, taking possession of his right arm, 
 with her fan, " never wore a wig, which is 
 more than can be said of great American 
 Generals, or their devoted admirers." 
 
96 DlFFERKXCES. 
 
 ** If you mean me, Madame," cried Mrs. 
 Waddlekins, " I have more hair now, than 
 ladies in France ever possess, as I am 
 told." 
 
 " Did you do me the honor of making a 
 remark ?" inquired Madame, blandlj' turn- 
 ing to her opponent, as if she had just be- 
 come aware of her presence. " Excuse me, 
 I was about relating to Mr. Welland an 
 anecdote of His Majesty the emperor Na- 
 poleon." * 
 
 *• Was it about the sale of Louisiana to 
 the United Slates, Madame?" asked the 
 other, with a show of great interest. 
 
 " No ; it was a remark on the sham- 
 marriage of Miss Patterson with his 
 brother?" 
 
 "Indeed, Madame? The emperor was 
 fit to talk on such a subject. Was hismar- 
 riage with Josephine a sham also?" 
 
 " His Majesty said," continued Madame, 
 heedless of the interruption, " don't let 
 him marry an American lady. When they 
 get old, they always grow stout and vul- 
 gar." 
 
 Mrs. Waddlekins grew red as a turkey- 
 cock. Serious difficulties might have oc- 
 curred, had not Welland hastened to the 
 piano, and struck a number of loud ac- 
 cords, which soon brought Miss Waddle- 
 kins to his side, who at once began to sing 
 to his accompaniment: "Youth has de- 
 parted!" 
 
 In the meanwhile, Tourtelotte had left 
 off dancing, and retired to the smoking- 
 
Differed? cEs, 97 
 
 room, where Hassel had spent the greater 
 part of the evening. This room was up- 
 stairs, and overlooked the garden. Hassel 
 was alone at the moment, and busily en- 
 gaged in emitting the smoke from his 
 mouth, in a number of perfect rings, fol- 
 lowing each other in slow«successiom 
 
 ** Shall I hand you your money," he 
 asked, as Tourtelotte emptied a glass of 
 brandy, and then lighted a cigar. 
 
 "No," replied the other, gloomily. "I 
 doubt whether I can consider it fairlv 
 w-on." -^ 
 
 "You don't mean it," laughed Hassel. 
 Why, wasn't it fairly won?" 
 " Because I bet against my own horse." 
 I* Why, it's done every day on the turf!" 
 *^'But I am not a gentleman of the turf." 
 " Still I can not understand your scru- 
 ples." 
 
 " That is perfectly plain. I never thought 
 you could." 
 
 Hassel's face flushed. ''I only know 
 that, had we lost, I should have expected 
 you to pay one half of the losses." 
 
 "I would have done so." 
 
 "Very well. Perhaps you are rich 
 enough to incur such a risk, without the 
 expectation of pocketing the money when 
 you win. I am not. ]N-or w^ould any of 
 those who lost this money, have shown the 
 shghtest hesitation to pocket yours, had 
 fortune gone against you." 
 
 " That is true." 
 
 "Here is your money," and Hassel held 
 
98 Differences. 
 
 out the bills in a tempting manner. But 
 Tourtelotte averted his eyes. The other 
 placed them on the table, and turned his 
 back. Tourtelotte gazed furtively at the 
 money. He needed it. Of late his losses 
 had been heavy. He could not afford to 
 despise the first *miles of fortune. A step 
 on the staircase, decided him. Quickly 
 pocketing the bills he rose, and coming to 
 Hassel's side, said with affected careless- 
 ness : 
 
 " Do j^ou study the effects of moonlight 
 on the trees of the garden?" 
 
 " No," replied the other. "I am trying 
 to discover whether the lovers are still 
 there." 
 
 ** What lovers," asked Tourtelotte, glad 
 to talk of any thing, that would silence the 
 voice of his heart, which reproached him 
 for taking money not fairly won. 
 
 " The lovers we saw this morning at the 
 races." 
 
 " Whom do you mean ? I don't recollect 
 any lovers?" 
 
 " Whj', the lady in the blue habit and — " 
 
 "TheladjMn the blue habit? You are 
 dreaming, I believe." 
 
 "Is she not engaged to the gentleman 
 who was at her side ? To the one that—" 
 
 *' That discovered you cheating at brag in 
 Memphis?" said Tourtelotte, sneering. 
 " No. She is engaged to no one, and I in- 
 sist upon your speaking of her with the 
 highest respect, if you speak of her at all, 
 which is not desirable." 
 
Differences. 99 
 
 "I beg your pardon. A cat may look at 
 a king." 
 
 *' Yes, but at a very respectful distance. 
 Was she in the garden ?" 
 
 " In the early part of the evening. She 
 stood leaning against the old trunk at the 
 further end, when the gentleman came and 
 gave her his arm. After that, they walked 
 up and down for a while. I thought that 
 their heads were close together — " 
 
 *' Take care, v/hat you say!" 
 
 " The moonbeams probably dazzled me.. 
 When they turned their faces this way, it 
 seemed as if both Avere radiant with hap- 
 piness — " 
 
 "You are talking nonsense. Take care!" 
 
 "It must have been the light of the 
 moon, which made their faces shine so. 
 As they are not engaged, I probably was 
 deceived. The lady had a bouquet of tube- 
 roses." 
 
 " Which I gave her this evening. What 
 more?" 
 
 "Nothing. Calm yourself. Somebody 
 is coming." 
 
 "It is Welland," said Tourtelotte, with 
 a shudder, as his friend entered the room. 
 
 " And there is a tuberose in his button- 
 hole," whispered Hasscl, lighting another 
 cigar. 
 
 7* 
 
100 Differences. 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 From the window of a Fifth Avenue 
 mansion, streamed masses of light. The 
 heavy damask curtains Avere loojjed back, 
 and the airy lace permitted outsiders a 
 glance at the splendors within. In truth, 
 it appeared as if guests were expected, 
 for there was an air of preparation in these 
 fine apartments, v/hichit is as impossible to 
 conceal in a palace as in a hovel. Xor did 
 appearances deceive. Guests were ex- 
 pected, but only one ; still that one was the 
 master of the mansion. 
 
 Two ladies sat in the parlor, fanning 
 themselves, with the nervousness begotten 
 of expectation. The elder was a short, 
 stout personage, quietly dressed. She had 
 a kind, honest face, with small blue eyes, 
 cheeks like those of an apple, and hair 
 sprinkled with gray. The younger was a 
 tall, queenly £gure, with clearly cut feat- 
 ures, deep, dark eyes, of magnificent gray, 
 and hair like a Cleopatra. She was dressed 
 in a robe of cherry colored silk, and wore a 
 red camelia on her head. 
 
 Xow a carriage dashed along the streef, 
 and stopped at the house. The hall door 
 flew open, and in the blaze of light stream- 
 ing out, an elderly- gentleman dismounted, 
 and entered. The 3'oung lady's arms were 
 around his neck in an instanr, and he held 
 her close to his breast. They were father 
 and daughter. 
 
 When this embrace relaxed, and the el- 
 
Differences. 101 
 
 der lady had been treated to a good old- 
 fasbioned hug, two facts became evident. 
 First, that the gentleman M-as Reichenau, 
 the Tennessee merchant, and secondlj^, 
 that the old lady was his sister. They 
 looked very much alike. 
 
 After a few more greetings, while Reich- 
 enau patted his daughter on that magnifi- 
 cent head, as if she had been a child, he 
 said laughing : 
 
 " Now Margaret and Emma, I must re- 
 tire to brush up. For, at present, I am the 
 only shabby object here." 
 
 And he ran ujD-stairs, leaving both with 
 a glow of happiness upon their faces. Pi'es- 
 ently he returned, and they all went into 
 dinner. What brilliancy! The walls of 
 the dining-room were covered with velvetty 
 paper, red as blood. The carpets were of 
 the same hue. There was a chandelier with 
 four jets, and on every wall were four burn- 
 ers, bearing milk-white globes with their 
 fiery cores. Imagine all this light reflected 
 from the crimson Avails, and sparkling 
 upon the silver and crystal of the table, 
 and you will be dazzled by the picture. 
 
 During the meal, Reichenau's daughter 
 lavished tender attentions upon him, while 
 his sister seemed to watch both with a 
 happy smile. AVith the adjournment to 
 the parlor, conversation recommenced, for 
 the merchant had been too hungry, and 
 too happy to say much before that time. 
 
 "Oh father," said Emma, "the last 
 season at Saratoga was much more brilliant 
 
102 Differences* 
 
 than that of the summer before. There 
 
 were so many distinguished men there." 
 
 " And the last season at Memphis was 
 much more profitable than that of the 
 year before. Wool and iron were sold at 
 great advantage." 
 
 " Oh, bah," said Emma, with a proud 
 smile. " What do I care for wool or iron ? 
 Father, you should have seen me at the 
 last ball at Saratoga. I wore a wreath of 
 golden ears of wheat, and bouquets of the 
 same, scattered over a crimson dress. 
 Aunt Mag said, I looked so grand and ter- 
 rible, she was afraid of me." 
 
 '' And what did the distinguished gentle- 
 men say?" asked the father, smiling. 
 
 " The Hon. Mr. J , who had been am- 
 bassador to England said, that he never 
 saw any thing more magnificent at the 
 Queen's court." 
 
 "Indeed ? And did you see Mr. Douglas 
 there?" 
 
 " Only once. And he paid me a beauti- 
 ful compliment." 
 
 *' In the stump speech style ?" 
 
 "How can you be so wicked!" with a 
 pout. " He said, it was fortunate he had 
 not seen me years ago, for then he would 
 have searched for the objects of his life in 
 New York, instead of in Washington. 
 And guess what I replied ?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " That years ago I did not exist ! Then, 
 all laughed, and Mr. Douglas said it was a 
 
jPlFFERENCES. 103 
 
 cruel I'eininder to him of his age. You 
 know that he will be President." 
 
 "I don't know that, my youthful poli- 
 tician." 
 
 " Oh the company settled it at Saratoga ! 
 The south will vote for him, notwithstand- 
 ing the other candidates." 
 
 " Did you meet many people there from 
 the south?" 
 
 " <3.«ite a number. But especially one," 
 
 " A young gentleman from Tennessee," 
 said aunt Margaret, with a droll glance at 
 her brother. 
 
 *' Ah ? What part of the State does he 
 come from?" 
 
 " From Claiborne County. His name is 
 Goldman." 
 
 "And he is very agreeable," resumed 
 Emma, lifting her head proudly. " But 
 you will have an opportunity of seeing 
 him. He may come to-night." 
 
 A cloud passed over Reichenau's brow. 
 " I might have preferred to pass this even- 
 ing with jou alone," he said, "but never 
 mind. I know the county he comes from, 
 and have done business with a neighbor of 
 his. Mr, Tourtelotte, for whose harvest I 
 have contracted for several years, and 
 who owes me a great deal of money, is the 
 suitor of a Miss Goldman, Probably this 
 young man is her brother." 
 
 " He must be. For he has spoken of a 
 sister at home." 
 
 " They are very wealthy, as matters go 
 in Tennessee." 
 
104 Difference^ 
 
 " He is an agreeable yonngman, and has 
 distinguished manners. T know that you 
 will be pleased with him, father." 
 
 " And hpw has Emma got on in her 
 studies V^ asked Reichenau. *' Shall I hear 
 good music while at home, or must I lend 
 my ear to fashionable waltzes?" 
 
 •• Ob, I will play whatever you wish, 
 father. Yes, even Beethoven, whom I 
 abominate, and all his long drawn sonates." 
 
 "No, child. Beethoven, whom you 
 abominate, you wont play, for you can't. 
 Tf it must be, I can be very content with 
 Bellini, and his compeers. But how is 
 Mendelssohn ?" 
 
 '* I don't understand him ; and when I 
 had read Miss Sheppard's novels, and tried 
 to get into the spirit of his pieces, it made 
 my skin creep." 
 
 " "What sensitive nerves ^" laughed the 
 father. '* If it makes your skin creep to re- 
 flect on Mendelssohn's music, how would 
 it make you feel, to listen to the thunders 
 of Fiugal's Cave, or experience the Noc- 
 turnes of Italy's melodious nights." 
 
 " Father," cried the girl, with beaming 
 eyes. '* You are going to treat us to a trip 
 to Europe. Isn't that the sense of what 
 you were saying? Oh, I'll play Mendels- 
 sohn for ever, if I can pass a winter in 
 Paris." 
 
 " No Emma, I did not mean that. The 
 state of our country is too unsettled in a 
 political point of view, for me to leave at 
 present." 
 
Differences. 105 
 
 " No one feels uneasy at the state of the 
 country. The greatest politicians of the 
 land have told me at Saratoga, that all 
 those were merely election phrases, which 
 ciime into play once every fonr years." 
 
 ** I know that, child. But we foreigners 
 fear that this time they are not merely 
 phrases, and I think we are better judges 
 in this case than the Americans themselves. 
 So you wish to visit Europe?" 
 
 " Oh yes. Every one has been there. I 
 want to be presented at the court of 
 France, and I want to get corals from Na- 
 ples, and those pretty Florentine orna- 
 ments, and Roman shawls, and no end of 
 other thmgs. Then we must go to Switzer- 
 land, to purchase some of those nice wooden 
 carvings. One can get them almost for 
 nothing." 
 
 "And not to see the Alps, but merely to 
 get carvings ?" 
 
 " Well, we would see the Alps by the 
 way. I have heard that in summer the 
 most fashionable people of Europe go to 
 Switzerland." 
 
 Keichenau laughed. " You must w^ait 
 a while," he said, " we can not go this 
 year. I am afraid that the court of France 
 will not have an opportunity of admiring 
 my daughter as yet. And the Alps and 
 carvings in wood, will have to wait too." 
 
 •' I will be very good, if you take us next 
 summer. I shall bring the Paris fashions 
 for winter home then, and shall be the first 
 to wear them." 
 
106 Differences. 
 
 "Be good for goodness sake, Emma." 
 
 " I should like to, but it is so tiresome to 
 be good. It is not at all amusing, father." 
 
 '' I am afraid your tastes are corrupt. Is 
 wickedness amusing then ?" 
 
 *' Yes, very. The most amusing people 
 in the world are the wicked fellows, and I 
 never have more fun than when I do some- 
 thing very wicked." 
 
 " I suppose you are a great criminal, 
 then. What wicked things have you done 
 lately ?" 
 
 "Do you want to know? And wont 
 aunt be angry?" 
 
 "Oh, am I concerned?" asked aunt Mar- 
 garet, looking up from her book. 
 
 " Yes, you are. Do you remember when 
 the Hadleys called last week? Those very 
 stiff, polite old maids? Thej- stayed to 
 lunch, and I bribed Andrew to pour vine- 
 gar into their glasses from a wine bottle, 
 instead of wine. And aunt urged them 
 continually to take wine, and the poor 
 things had to swallow half their vinegar, 
 ere they were done. Bui they stood it like 
 heroes. Never moved a muscle, while I 
 thought I should have exploded with 
 laughter." 
 
 " That's why they grew so serious and 
 silent after lunch," said aunt Mag. " Poor 
 things, what an opinion they must have of 
 our cellar." 
 
 " Are there more confessions of the same 
 sort?" asked Reichenau, laughing. 
 
 "Yes. I poisoned Mrs. Cholmondeley's 
 parrot." 
 
Differences. 107 
 
 " Great heavens !" cried the aunt, spring- 
 ing up. " And then you went to comfort 
 the poor lady, who almost broke her heart 
 over it ! YoU. arrant 113'pocrite !" 
 
 " I was really sorry jor it afterwards, but 
 it was great fun." 
 
 *' Then," resumed Reichenau, " the pleas- 
 ures of wickedness consist in making old 
 ladies drink vinegar, and poisoning poll 
 parrots. Very fine, I must confess." 
 
 A ring was heard. The merchant sat up 
 straight in his chair, and Emma threw 
 herself on a lounge in a most picturesque 
 jDOsition, making a perfect blaze of cherry 
 colored silk around her. She picked up an 
 album, and seemed to grow unconscious ot 
 surrounding objects. 
 
 The girl was perfectly beautiful ; a 
 beauty only marred by the consciousness 
 of it, which she had not sufficient art or 
 high breeding to conceal. She was in her 
 seventeenth or eighteenth year, and fully 
 developed. Her taste in dress was magni- 
 ficent, and, therefore, well suited to the 
 style of her face and form. She reclined 
 there, with the ample folds of red silk 
 surging around her ; soft, foamy lace 
 dragged over it in ribands ; and her white 
 warm throat and queenly face rose out of 
 this blaze of color with the magnificence of 
 a Cleopatra, and the grace of a swan. 
 
 A young man entered the parlor. He 
 was lithe and graceful, with sea-blue eyes 
 and sunny hair, and a moustache of the 
 palest golden hue. His dress-coat was ex- 
 
108 Differences. 
 
 quisite, his gloves unexceptionable, and 
 his smile bewitching. It was Mr. Charles 
 Goldman. 
 
 After clue introduction, Mr. Reichenau 
 ascertained that Mr. Goldman was a neigh- 
 bor of Mr. Tourtelotte,'and then he entered 
 into along description of Claiborne Count}-. 
 Emma, who had greeted Mr. Goldman's 
 entrance with a nod, relapsed into her 
 state of seeming unconsciousness. Aunt 
 Mag was nervously busy in asking her 
 brother Cjuestions, which he replied to by 
 long remarks addressed to Mr. Goldman. 
 
 Of a sudden, there was a sharp bark, and 
 a joyful rush to the arm-chair. Floss, Em- 
 ma's spaniel, a perfect mass of long silky 
 hair, white as snow, had recognized her 
 father, and leaped upon his lap. This di- 
 version gave Mr. Goldman an opportunity 
 to move to the lounge, nor was he slow in 
 availing himself of it. Mr. Reichenau im- 
 mediately said : 
 
 " Emma, give us some music. I must 
 hear all your new airs, for, remember, in a 
 week I am going back to Tennessee !" 
 
 " So soon !" escla'med Charles Goldman. 
 " Do you not like Xew York better, than 
 merely to give it a week ?" 
 
 " You may well imagine that I do not go 
 because I prefer Tennessee. But my busi- 
 ness requires it." 
 
 " Surely, you are above the necessity of 
 sacrificing your wishes to your business." 
 
 " Xo man is. I was a poor boy when I 
 came to this country, and had I ever 
 
Differences. 109 
 
 thought so, I would never have acquired 
 what I possess." 
 
 Emma had opened the piano. Charles 
 turned the music. As he bent over her, 
 she raised her e^'^es to his, and a glance of 
 warm affection passed between the two. 
 The kej'-s rattled, and Reichenau cried out : 
 
 " Emma, keep time. What are you think- 
 ing of?" 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 When Charles Goldman took his leave, 
 he hastened to a club house, where he had 
 promised to meet a young friend. The 
 club house of the Upatens was situated on 
 
 street. It possessed a reading-room 
 
 and hall on the first floor, and a number of 
 card-rooms up-stairs. The apartments on 
 the first floor opened into each other, and 
 on the occasion of entertainments, repre- 
 sented a continuous suite. 
 
 It happened to be the evening when an 
 amateur concert was to be given, which 
 would finish with a dance. Goldman's 
 friend met him in the hall. He was one of 
 the old youngsters to be noticed in the 
 clubs of New York. Young in years, but 
 old in worldly cunning, with dissipation 
 written in the weary look of his eyes. His 
 sallow relaxed face, and slim, short body, 
 bespoke a stunted growth. His name was 
 Ed. Merrins. 
 
 After a warm greeting, the two entered 
 the parlors, where Merrins pointed out to 
 Goldman the ladies most in fashion. 
 
110 Differences. 
 
 "There are Mrs. and Miss Gogalow," he 
 said, pointing to a mother and daughter, 
 alike thin, with pale, weazened faces, and 
 large, dark eyes. Both were horridly over- 
 dressed, and be-hung with chains like Ja- 
 panese idols. •* They are very rich, but 
 have only moved to New York recently. 
 Wholesale dry goods." 
 
 They moved on. 
 
 ** There," continued Merrins, glancing at 
 a very pretty girl with a pert expression 
 on her handsome features, '' is the only 
 daughter of Kuckelein & Co, importers of 
 watches." 
 
 He bowed to the lady. The next group 
 was a parcel of fat women, with yellow- 
 complexions, mere fragments of noses, and 
 plenty of diamonds. 
 
 " These are the rich Bockheims," nudged 
 Merrins. "They live on Fifth Avenue, 
 and have made mints of money. Gentle- 
 men's furnishing goods." 
 
 A crowd of beautiful girls stood laugh- 
 ing in a corner. 
 
 ** Who are those?" asked Goldman. 
 
 "Those? Let me see; I don't know. 
 Very pretty, aint they ? But no considera- 
 ble firms among them." 
 
 " There are very few gentlemen here." 
 
 " They are in the card-rooms. The con- 
 cert wilPcall them down." 
 
 Presently it began. The ladies entered 
 the hall in the rear of the parlors, and 
 took their seats upon the chairs and 
 benches that filled it. The gentlemen 
 
Differences. Ill 
 
 grouijed themselves in the rear of the la- 
 dies. Still there was a great preponderance 
 of the fair sex, which Merrins explained, 
 by saying that a great many preferred 
 to remain in the card -rooms. 
 
 A young man mounted the platform at 
 the further end of the hall, and performed 
 a piece upon the piano. There was raptu- 
 rous applause. 
 
 " Isn't ii splendid ?" cried Merrins. **He 
 studied at Leipzic for two years, and spent 
 ten thousand dollars in Europe. He is a 
 great artist." 
 
 ** He plays well, but not well enough to 
 merit all those encomiums. Who is he ?" 
 
 " Wertheim & Co. Eldest son. Was 
 made partner this Spring. Shirt manufac- 
 turers." 
 
 A lady of exceeding stoutness was now 
 led forward. In size she promised as 
 much as Albini. But there the resem- 
 blance ended to a great degree. Still she 
 sang a Bravour Aria with a good deal of 
 brilliancy, and was encored. This lady, 
 who would have been majestic in heavy 
 silks, wore gossamer white, while innocent 
 rosebuds were stuck in her hair. 
 
 "Who is she?" inquired Charles, who 
 was delighted with her voice. 
 
 *' Oh, nobody. A Miss Levy, daughter 
 of a school teacher." 
 
 Then came a slim, pale youth. His hair 
 flowed back from a forehead bright with 
 the light of genius. His large tremulous 
 eyes ignored the audience. With long 
 
112 Differences. 
 
 transparent fingers he lifted a violin, and 
 the bow swept over the strings. Sounds of 
 passion, tones of heart-music floated from 
 his instrument; now low as a cello, it 
 spoke of the depths to which the soul is 
 east down by the dominion of desire ; then 
 loud as a trumpet it sang of the heights to 
 ■which it is lifted by love. In every note 
 weighed the earnestness of an inspired 
 soul. 
 
 When he ceased, there was a deep silence. 
 The audience seemed to draw a long 
 breath. Then rapturous applause burst 
 forth. Those sensitive descendants of the 
 Orient, educated or ignorant, refined or 
 rough, had all realized and felt the poetry 
 w^hich expressed itself in that language 
 of nature, the music of a master. There is 
 a faint reflection of the palm trees and the 
 rose-gardens, the deserts full of mirage, 
 and the skies full of burning stars, in the 
 heart of every one with a drop of eastern 
 blood in his veins, that gifts him with a 
 greater power of poetic appreciation than 
 European nationalities iDossess. And here 
 it was evident. 
 
 The young artist descended from the 
 platform, and no one seemed to pay any 
 further attention to him. As he picked his 
 way to their neighborhood, Charles pre- 
 pared to offer him his seat. But Merrins 
 interfered. 
 
 '* He is paid for his play. Xo necessity 
 of being polite to him." 
 
 Just then eight gentlemen began on 
 
Differences, 113 
 
 four pianos, to play the Coronation March 
 from the Prophet. This march, horrible 
 enough when played on a single piano, 
 was eight times more horrible played thus. 
 With it the concert ended, and the benches 
 were removed to make room for the dan- 
 cers. 
 
 " Shall I introduce you to a lady for the 
 next quadrille?" asked Merrins. -"There 
 is Miss Babblapap — Babblapap & Son, 
 wholesale liquors and Khine wines; she is 
 a splendid dancer." 
 
 The introduction was given, and Miss 
 Babblapap accepted. 
 
 "How do you amuse yourself?" she 
 asked Charles. 
 
 "Very well," he replied. " 1 have never 
 been in better company." 
 
 " Yes, some very wealthy people are 
 here. Did you observe Mrs. Bockheira ?" 
 
 " She was pointed out to me. But I saw- 
 nothing to admire in her." 
 
 " Why, her diamonds are worth twenty 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 After this dance, Charles looked on, un- 
 til the call for supper was given. There 
 was an immediate rush to the basement. 
 
 Kuckelein & Co fought her way with 
 both elbows, dragging her cavalier along, 
 and in the face looking perfectly indifferent 
 to sublunary suppers. The Gogalows were 
 in the first rank. The Boekheims, dia- 
 monds and all, were crowded back. When 
 Charles gained a seat at the table, every 
 bodv was in full process of mastication. 
 8 
 
114 Differences. 
 
 There was a good deal of show of breeding 
 among the ladies, as far as eating was con- 
 cerned. Still the elder ones did not disdain 
 to resort to sleight&of hand, when the fork 
 seemed insufficient. Many gentlemen lised 
 their knives like shovels, and forks were 
 at a discount among them. 
 
 After supper, there was a merry party 
 gathered at Charles' end of the table. Mer- 
 rins, Wertheim, and some graduates of 
 German universities, discussed good old 
 wine there. Somehow the conversation 
 turned on dogs, and somebody asked of 
 Wertheim how his friend Tisso's dog was. 
 
 " Why, haven't you heard ?"" cried Wert- 
 heim. " Minnie is dead. Dead as a door- 
 nail." 
 
 •' How," asked all. 
 
 Merrins told Charles that they referred to 
 a splendid little black and tan, which be- 
 longed to Tisso the actor. 
 
 " It is a long story," said Wertheim. 
 
 " Tell it, by all means." 
 
 "Very well. You see Tisso came here 
 last season on a visit to me. Booth is his 
 intimate friend, and we had agreed to 
 spend an evening with him. On the even- 
 ing in question we proceeded to Booth's 
 quarters, who was compelled to be out un- 
 til nine, but who had askea a number of 
 jolly fellows to meet us. It was near nine, 
 when Tisso suddenly stopped in the midst 
 of conversation, and cried : ' Where is Min- 
 nie ?' We all searched. Xo Minnie was 
 to be found. No reply to our calls. Not a 
 
Differences. 115 
 
 sign of the dog. Finally we stumbled upon 
 a closet half open, and on pushing the door, 
 there lay Minnie, dead, dead as the last of 
 the Mohegans. At this moment Booth ar- 
 rived. Tisso rushed to meet him, crying: 
 ' Have you any poison in your rooms ?' ' I 
 have poison in my rooms !' replied the actor 
 in the same style. * Then my dog is dead, 
 my dog is dead !' shrieked Tisso. A medi- 
 cal man, who was of the party, was in- 
 stantly taken hold of. He was dragged to 
 the druggist and back, and forced to ad- 
 minister emetics, antidotes, and what not 
 to the dead animal. But Minnie remained 
 dead. Booth got a sheet, and the corpse 
 was wrapped in it, while Tisso remained 
 by its side, covering the pretty little head 
 of the dead dog with kisses and tears. I 
 never saw a man cry so. He sobbed as if 
 his heart would break. So it was deter- j 
 
 mined to fuddle him, in order to make him i 
 
 forget his grief. But, to no purpose. The I 
 
 more brandy we urged on him, the more | 
 
 he wept. We all entered the closet in turn, | 
 
 to hear him sob out the perfections of Min- | 
 
 nie, and administer consolation. One said : 
 * Don't weep, you'll meet her in a better 
 place above.' The other sighed : * She was 
 too good for this world.' Booth opined 
 that • she died in a good cause.' When I 
 asked him why, he said : * to furnish us an 
 evening's amusement.' Everybody was 
 drinking brandy to fuddle Tisso, and while 
 Tisso remained sober, everybody else got 
 fuddled. Each new burst of tears and 
 8-» 
 
116 Differences. 
 
 moans from the mourner, gave rise to a 
 paroxysm of laughter, and no end of witti- 
 cisms. Finally, it became a question 
 whether the dog should remain in Booth's 
 rooms, or be taken home to my lodgings. 
 He took him home. It was one of the hot- 
 test nights of the year. I emptied a shelf 
 of my bookcase, and the dog was put there. 
 All through the night Tisso continued to 
 get up, unlocked the case, kissed and wept 
 over the dog, and then came over to my 
 bed, bowed his head over my shoulder, 
 and cried like a mermaid. In the morn- 
 ing, Minnie's skin was delivered over to be 
 stuffed, and her heart was put up in alcohol 
 with the label : ' Minnie's heart.' That lit- 
 tle heart was full of love for Tisso." 
 
 After a good laugh, the party went up- 
 stairs, and joined in the dance, which was 
 stil^ going on. As they were preparing to 
 leave, Merrins excused himself, saying : 
 
 " Pardon me. I am going to take home 
 a young lady, to whom I pay special atten- 
 tion. I have serious views in regard to 
 her. They keep a carriage, and live in 
 great stj'le. Krakowwitz <fe Son, Chatham 
 Street. Clothing and gentlemen's furni- 
 ture." 
 
 But his intentions were frustrated ;. at 
 the same moment a short, dark young man 
 seized his arm, and said : '* Merrins, why 
 don't you dance?" 
 
 Merrins introduced him as '* Mr. Beans, 
 wholesale dry goods, Charleston and Mo- 
 bile; family living in New York." 
 
Differences. 117 
 
 The young man bowed, and then contin- 
 ued to address Merrins : " My sisters are 
 here. They would be glad to see you. Go 
 and ask Sophie to dance." 
 
 Merrins glanced nervously at three short, 
 dark girls, very plain and overdressed, 
 who sat at a little distance, and had sup- 
 ported the part of wallflowers during most 
 of the evening. 
 
 " I am about to go," he urged reluc- 
 tantly. 
 
 " Stay a little longer," persisted Mr. 
 Beans. ** Dance with her. What do you 
 care?" 
 
 "But I am very tired already," replied 
 Merrins. 
 
 " I'll be down at your place to-morrow," 
 said Beans. "I am purchasing a lot of 
 shirtbosoms, and I'll take some of your 
 house." 
 
 " We shall be happy to see you," replied 
 Merrins with a smile, and at once asked 
 Miss Sophie Beans to dance. That young 
 lady started as if she had been deep in ab- 
 struse reflections, and oblivious of such triv- 
 ial pleasures as dancing. She assented, 
 however, and away they glided in the 
 mazes of a waltz. 
 
118 Differences, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV, 
 Nearly a couple of months had elapsed 
 since the events related in the last chap- 
 ter. Hassel had remained in Claiborne 
 Countj-:, and was the constant companion 
 of Tourtelotte, who suddenly seemed to 
 take a deep interest in politics. It was not 
 remarkable, at a time when political ex- 
 citement ran so high, that a gentleman of 
 Tourtelotte's standing should associate so 
 closely with a man like Hassel, who w^as 
 known to be a regular agent of a faction in 
 the State. They visited together, and tried 
 to organize the gentlemen of the county 
 into a firm party, that would be ready to 
 oppose a VoiUrance, the faction of the small 
 farmers and tradesmen in the vicinity. Of 
 course it was not politics alone that were 
 discussed. When a number of gentlemen 
 rode over from their estates to S^'caraore, 
 and met in the large upper parlor of the 
 hotel, punch flowed freely, and after dis- 
 cussions of a more serious nature, cards 
 were produced, and social games of brag 
 entered upon, with the vim of men relax- 
 ing after labor. It is needless to say that 
 Hassel was not a loser at these relaxations. 
 Tourtelotte also proved a winner fre- 
 quently. His code of morals had become 
 an easy one, and the strict laws of honor 
 sat lightly on his mind. Sophistry, in the 
 person of Hassel, was always at hand to 
 explain away scruples, and smooth the ap- 
 proaches to doubtful actions. 
 
Differences. 119 
 
 Hassel, who needed Tourtelotte to further 
 both his public and priva;te ends, felt, aside 
 from this, a great delight in leading the 
 young man away from the paths of honor. 
 Every time Tourtelotte accepted of the 
 pi-oceeds of some of his nicely laid schemes 
 and dirty speculations, he triumphed in 
 his heart, and was as full of joy as if he had 
 taken a city. He looked upon every suck 
 act, on Tourtelotte'a part, as an excuse for 
 ills own -roguery, or rather as a justifica- 
 tion. "All men are rogues," he said, 
 chuckling to himself, after such a transac- 
 tion. '* But many want the opportunity, 
 and the smartness." He took great delight 
 in contemplating Tourtelotte's station, ex- 
 alted ideas of honor, and chivalric reputa- 
 tion, his family associations, and every 
 thing else that won the world's regard for 
 the young man. Th^n he said: "Try 
 them. They are all so." 
 
 It is a queer phenomenon that the best 
 allurers to vice, are those who have expe- 
 rienced its sharpest retributions. Captive 
 animals are used to decoy their wild breth- 
 ren, and the hopelessly ricious, are the dev- 
 il's surest agents. 
 
 It is easy to imagine that Hassel had 
 used his influence to shake Welland's po- 
 sition in the county. The young German 
 had been absent for over six weeks, survey- 
 ing at a distant point, whither directions 
 from the Capital had ordered him to go. 
 He had just returned, and accepted a 
 pressing invitation to pass a week at Pine- 
 
120 Differences. 
 
 land. Before leaving, he had observed 
 that people around Sycamore treated him 
 with more coolness than previously, yet 
 unconsciouG of cause, he had not given 
 much thought to the matter. K'or did he, 
 in fact, concern himself about it, as long as 
 the Goldmans retained th« old kindliness 
 of feeling to^Vard him. 
 
 There was a small tea-party at the widow 
 Waddlekins. The table was set in the 
 best room, and good things abounded 
 thereon. The old china, and the sharp- 
 edged tea-spoons, did their best to lend 
 splendor to the entertainment, and the su- 
 gar tongs and cream pitcher gave evidence 
 of past glories. 
 
 The widow sat enthroned upon a large 
 and slippery horse hair sofa. This sofa 
 possessed legs beautifully carved in the 
 shape of cornucopias, with tremendous 
 bird's claws on the pointed ends. Its back 
 was surmounted by a perfect wilderness of 
 mahogany fruits and flowers, which clus- 
 tered around a piece of yellow wood let in, 
 for greater splendor, and having the ap- 
 pearance of a blister denuded of skin. The 
 arms were arabesques. The whole looked 
 as if it might have belonged to Mrs. Wad- 
 dlekin's grandfather's grandfather. 
 
 The ladies had sipped their tea, and 
 eaten their cake, and the ancient attendant 
 had left them to their own devices. Each 
 had the pretence of work with her, and 
 stitched away at a little bit of muslin, at 
 the rate of one stitch to every ten words. 
 
DlFFEKENCES. 121 
 
 Conversation was going on briskly, and if 
 the fingers suggested the necessity of in- 
 troducing the sewing machine, no one 
 would have thought of inventing a talking 
 machine, that could do any better than 
 those ladies did with their unassisted nat- 
 ural powers. 
 
 " My husband told me so," said Mrs. 
 Palmer. •' He is paid by the abolitionists 
 to sneak around the State, and spy out 
 what we are going to do, in case they at- 
 tempt to free our slaves." 
 
 " There is no such thing, Mrs. Palmier," 
 returned Mrs. VVaddlekins. " He has been 
 residing in my house for weeks, and 
 never has he been guilty of an attempt to 
 turn my servants against me, or cause 
 them to run away." It will be remembered 
 that the widow's" servants" were Hannah, 
 aged seventy and deaf as a post. 
 
 •' Still, Mrs. Waddlekins, I have heard 
 the same thing," said old Miss Quizzens. 
 " He is very polite, and quite genteel. But 
 if he is going to interfere with our institu- 
 tions, he'd better take care, for tar w^ont 
 improve bis complexion." 
 
 *' Are you going to condemn a man un- 
 heard?" asked Mrs. Waddlekins, raising 
 her hands in an oratorial manner, and 
 looking like a seal about to address his fel- 
 low-seals. " Who says these things about 
 him. Miss Quizzens ? Who calumniates 
 my Iriend, Mrs. Palmer? Show^ me the 
 woman, and I'll— I'll— I'll trample on her, 
 and destroy her !" 
 
122 Differences, 
 
 This cliraax was terrible, and there was 
 little doubt that the destruction would be 
 complete, if the trampling took place, and 
 Mrs. Waddlekins were the trampler. But 
 she looked in vain for a tramplee. 
 
 " Yes ladies," she resumed, " the General 
 used to say to my grandfather—" 
 
 As soon as the rest heard the General 
 mentioned they grew pale, and Mrs. Ogle- 
 thorpe hastened to the rescue by interrupt- 
 ing the speaker, with the question : 
 
 " But are his feelings not those of an ab- 
 olitionist?" 
 
 "Madam," returned Mrs. Waddlekins, 
 with dignity, " I am a sorrowing widow, 
 and not given to inquire into the feelings 
 of the young men I entertain, and — " 
 
 *' Board," suggested a lad3\ 
 
 " No, not board !" repeated Mrs. Waddle- 
 kins, throwing a scathing glance at the 
 speaker, and rejecting the amendment 
 with scorn, "Xo Waddlekins has ever 
 kept a boarding house. The young men 
 that become my guests." 
 
 '• I hope he is an abolitionist," squeaked 
 old Miss Hopstring, the school marm. "All 
 men are free according to the constitution, 
 and niggers are men." 
 
 " Pity one can't marry them," said a pert 
 young miss, and the circle laughed. The 
 fact was, oid Miss Hopstring was from 
 Massachusetts, and known to be a defender 
 of the principles of the commonwealth. 
 This was tolerated as a natural crotchet in 
 a school marm. There was a rumor of 
 
Differences, 123 
 
 Miss Hopstring being attached to a mu- 
 latto preacher, in a Platonic way, which 
 always set the laugh" against her. 
 
 "Ladies," resumed Mrs. Waddlekins, 
 with the manner of a Cicero, ** you know 
 that I am the descendant of the bosom 
 friend ot our great southern General and 
 statesman, George Washington. You know 
 that rather than have our institutions 
 broken down by the North, I would suffer 
 myself to be hung up by the hair, and torn 
 limb from limb by wild beastesses. If I 
 therefore say, that I believe Louis Welland 
 innocent, that settles the question." 
 
 All agreed, that that settled the question, 
 and asked to be helped to another cup of 
 tea. 
 
 **He has a beautiful moustache," said 
 Mrs. Oglethorpe, who was a judge of such 
 matters, possessing herself a not inconsid- 
 erable ornament of this kind. 
 
 "And his hair is so glossy ; and his ej^es 
 so bright," cried Mrs. Smocklay, a young 
 married woman, rather vulgar. 
 
 " If it had pleased Providence to spare 
 me my dear Waddlekins," said the widow, 
 turning her eyes up, " I would not think 
 •of other men's hair and eyes." 
 
 "Nor they of yours," replied Mrs, 
 Smocklay, angrily. 
 
 " Why, my dear Mrs. Smocklay ! you 
 don't know what you are saying! I was 
 considered the beauty of this section, be- 
 fore you were ever thought of." * 
 
124 Differences. 
 
 " It must have been," returned the other, 
 '• before I was born." 
 
 *' Excuse me," said the "widow, bitterly, 
 " you are neither so young nor I so old, 
 that it could have been then. But it was 
 before society had come to recognize your 
 existence," and as the representative of so- 
 ciety, she drew herself up proudly, with 
 a glance at Mrs. Smocklay, that signified 
 to that lady that she was addressing the 
 granddaughter of Washington's bosom 
 friend, and no mistake. 
 
 Upon which Mrs. Smocklay struck her 
 colors, with a giggle intended to express 
 contempt for the opponent, and revenged 
 herself by silently demolishing an enor- 
 mous quantity of cake. Mrs. Piilmer, 
 however, took up the glove. 
 
 '' His complexion is very fair, if he is an 
 abolitionist," she said, defiantly; "and I 
 say it, if I am a married woman." 
 
 But a peacemaker interfered. 
 
 '* Have you seen Miss Allen," asked the 
 school marm. " Her face is spots all over, 
 and the doctor says they went go away." 
 
 " Mr. Tremaine will stop going to see her 
 then, I suppose," said Mrs. Parsley. 
 
 " Yes, and right for her too," cried Mrs. 
 Oglethorpe. " The vain thing that always 
 dressed finer than her betters." 
 
 And thus more. Until the party broke 
 up. 
 
 Next day, early in the forenoon, Mrs. 
 Waddlekins was walking in her garden, 
 
Differences. 125 
 
 when a gentleman joined her there, and 
 bowed with great politeness. It was Ilas- 
 sel, dressed very elegantly. 
 
 " Pardon my intrusion, madam," he 
 said. " But I was riding past, and over the 
 paling could observe you walking among 
 the flowers. To a man so full of worrying 
 business as myself, there is nothing more 
 soothing, than the view of a beauty sur- 
 rounded by flowers." And he laid the tips 
 of his Angers upon his left vest-pocket. 
 
 *' Ah, my dear Mr. Hazelton, you flatter 
 me. There was a time when such a com- 
 pliment might have been justified, but 
 now — ," and Mrs. Waddiekins shook her 
 head with gentle melancholy. 
 
 "Now, more than ever," cried Hassel, 
 fervently. " Once a beauty, always a 
 beauty. Years only develop the charms 
 that ravish us poor men. And then my 
 dear madam," he added, in affectionate re- 
 proof, " you can't be above thirty." 
 
 '* Oh Mr. Hazelton ! I have a grown up 
 daughter. But, to be sure, I was only a 
 child when 1 married Mr. Waddiekins." 
 
 "And you still, remain true to him? 
 Why have you never married?" and he 
 squeezed the widow's hand. 
 
 The poor lady began to be fluttered. 
 
 " How can you ask such questions, you 
 wicked man," she said, with a simper. 
 
 "I should have thought Mr. Welland, 
 who was your guest for quite a time, would 
 not have been able to resist the charms I 
 now behold." And his glance fell upon 
 
126 Differences. 
 
 her throat and double chin, which were 
 
 heaving like the Red sea. 
 
 "Sir," said Mrs. Waddlekins, with state- 
 liness, " Mr. Welland knew his place bet- 
 ter than to entertain such foolish hopes." 
 
 " Perhaps your opinions did not agree 
 with his? He is an emissary of the aboli- 
 tionists. I used to see him in the Xorth, 
 and there is no greater hater of the South 
 than he. But, let us talk of something else. 
 How well pink becomes you." 
 
 '•You don't say!" gasped the widow. 
 "Mr. Welland an abolitionist? I never 
 could have believed it ! If the minister 
 had told me in church, I would have said : 
 It isn't so ! But, of course, you must 
 know." 
 
 " Oh , I am quite sure of it. Do wear pink 
 ribands at Mrs. Armistead's party. Pink 
 becomes you so much." 
 
 " Do you think so? I hope to see you 
 there." 
 
 " Of course. And if you will try a quad- 
 rille with me, I shall be the happiest of 
 mortals!" Hassel turned his eyes upon 
 Mrs. Waddlekin's face, with passionate af- 
 fection, and pressed both hands upon his 
 stomach, as if he suffered from cramps. 
 
 '' Perhaps," simpered the widow. " But 
 this is terrible about Mr. Welland. He 
 has been received into the bosom of our 
 families !" And her own heaved angrily. 
 
 "Yes, he has been petted. He will 
 doubtless be invited to this party." 
 
 " Not, if I can help it," cried Mrs. Wad- 
 
DlFFEKENCES. 127 
 
 dlekins, with energy. " Shall the daugh- 
 ter of Washington's bosom friend sit at the 
 same table with a traitor and an abolition- 
 ist? Never!" and she stuck her arm 
 straight out, and made a statue of offended 
 dignity of herself. 
 
 " How grand you look, when you are an- 
 grj^!" cried Hassel, folding his hands in 
 admiration. " But you can not help it, my 
 dear madam." 
 
 " And why not?" asked the statue, re- 
 luctantly taking down her arm. 
 
 "Because he is the guest of the Gold- 
 mans, If they are asked, he must be 
 asked too." 
 
 " He will not be asked. This day shall I 
 go to Mrs. Armistead, and explain the 
 matter to her. The Goldmans will be in- 
 vited, and the traitor ignored. I will see 
 the invitation sent myself." 
 
 " How energetic you are, you noble 
 daughters of the South," cried Hassel. 
 "You are heroines compared to the timid 
 women of the North ! My dear Mrs. Wad- 
 dlekins I" 
 
 " Islj dear Mr. Hassel!" and the widow 
 squeezed his hand gently. 
 
 " We, men of the South," resumed Has- 
 sel, who grew frightened, as Mrs. Waddle- 
 kins grew tender, " we must not think of 
 love and beauty now, we must darken the 
 sweet pictures that fill our hearts, and pre- 
 pare to defend our rights against the op- 
 pressor." 
 
128 Differences. 
 
 " Will you take a sandwich," said the 
 widow, leading him to the house. 
 
 " How kind you are ! I believe I will." 
 
 " And a glass of something?" 
 
 " Oh, how sweet it must be from your 
 hand." 
 
 "Shall it be wine, or peach brandy." 
 
 " A little of the peach, if you please. But 
 only if you will take some also." 
 
 " Dear me, I never take any thing." 
 
 " Onh^ this time, to please me. It's your 
 duty as hostess." 
 
 " I can never get it down my throat. 
 Not so much !" 
 
 Hassel poured out a good wineglassfull 
 for her. She declared she never could 
 drink it. He pressed. Only one little drop. 
 Just for company. Then she laughed, and 
 said he was so pleasant, that she couldn't 
 resist. Finally she took a sip. Then an- 
 other ; she declared that was all she ever 
 could get down. But Hassel said, they had 
 not drank any toasts as yet, and she must 
 pledge him. That was the law of hospi- 
 tality. So she pledged him. Then he gave: 
 
 " Mrs. W , the fairest of the fair!" and 
 
 drank, turning his eyes up to the ceiling. 
 Then she sipped again. And then they 
 drank: "The glory of the South." And, 
 at last, her glass was empty, and without 
 circumlocution^ she had another. 
 
D I F F E R E N C K S . 129 
 
 CH.AJ'TER XV. 
 
 When Hassel left Mrs. Waddlekias, be 
 rode over to Tourtelotte's place, and gave 
 him a synopsis of his conversation witii the 
 widow. 
 
 " Now," said Tourtel(^te, "I shall be at 
 hand, when the invitation is given. ProL>- 
 ably they wiU refuse. But Antonia's man- 
 ner of refusing may tell me much." 
 
 " You may be sure that this seedy Ger- 
 man surveyor is after the wealthy Miss 
 Goldman, and quite likel3^ to succeed in his 
 plans." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that she likes 
 him?"*^ 
 
 " Why not? He is handsome." 
 
 "That is no reason. Her mother will 
 never allow it." 
 
 "Nor is that a reason, if she likes him." 
 
 "Bah! He talks German literature and 
 romantic poetrj'- to her, and it amuses." 
 
 " Perhaps he gives her illustrations of the 
 love scenes." 
 
 " No. He could not so far forget himself, 
 nor she. Still I feel uneasy ; in truth, I am 
 jealous." 
 
 " Why not drive him from the neighbor- 
 hood?" 
 
 " We are at it, I believe. You at least." 
 
 *' Yes. I have spread his fame as au ab- 
 olitionist, until every one is turned against 
 him. Still it will need something more to 
 drive him away." 
 
 9 
 
130 Differences. 
 
 " You do not mean violence? No, that 
 must not be!" 
 
 " Not exactly violence. A little tar and 
 feathers." 
 
 " Never. I would defend him with my 
 body." 
 
 " He will need all the defenders he can 
 muster, if this election should go against 
 us. An abolitionist will not be safe in 
 Claiborne County, if the republicans carry 
 it." 
 
 "He will at least have time to escape." 
 
 *' Scarcely. Our men are organized, and 
 on the election going wrong, they will rise 
 at once." 
 
 "Well, the matter must soon be settled. 
 And now I will station a nigger on the 
 road, to inform me when Mrs. Armistead's 
 carriage passes, so that I may be able to 
 dash over to Pineland in time, and observe 
 the reception." 
 
 " Depend on it, she will fight for him." 
 
 " I don't think so." 
 . " You are a model of confidence." 
 
 " And you of suspicion." 
 
 It was not long before a little fellow, 
 whose head was covered with several 
 pounds of \NM)oly hair, so that he looked like 
 a sable mop, came dashing into the room, 
 and announced the passage of Mrs. Armis- 
 tead's carriage. 
 
 Tourtelotte mounted his horse, and ar- 
 rived at Fineland very soon after the car- 
 riage. He entered the parlor at once. 
 
 Mrs. Goldman sat upon the sofa with a 
 
Differences. 131 
 
 troubled look upon her countenance. Ma- 
 dame la Generale, who occupied a high 
 arm-chair, was very red, and her eyes 
 sparkled fiercely. Antonia stood behind 
 her grand aunt's chair, pale, and with com- 
 pressed lips. Fronting them, sat Mrs. 
 Armistead, a lady of aristocratic features, 
 with hair white as the driven snow, though 
 she could not have been older than forty- 
 five. Mrs. Armistead was speaking in a 
 soft, apologetic kind of voice : 
 
 " But my dear Madame Outon, this is the 
 reason why I brought the invitation my- 
 self. I felt it necessary to explain to you 
 personally this seeming breach ©f manners, 
 which I am compelled to commit toward 
 you. Political opinions run so high, that I 
 would hazard the peace of my entertain- 
 ment, were I to ask Mr. Welland." 
 
 " Truly ?" inquired Madame la Generale, 
 with cold hauteur. " I have had the for- 
 tune to attend at entertainments where 
 half the monarchs of Europe were assem- 
 bled, and where every political system and 
 all extremes were represented. But I have 
 never observed that well-bred people en- 
 dangered the peace of a salon, no matter 
 what their opinions." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, Madame Outon," re- 
 sponded Mrs. Armistead. " But you for- 
 get that our planters are people far more 
 independent, and perhaps not quite as 
 high bred as the monarchs of Europe." 
 
 " What do you say, mother?" asked An- 
 tonia. 
 
132 Differences. 
 
 "I really don't understand tho affair," 
 replied Mrs. Goldman, piteously. " My 
 nerves trouble me 60 to-day, that I must 
 leave every decision to your aunt." 
 
 Thus she extricated herself from this 
 difficulty. The Armisteads were not only 
 wealthy, but a truly aristocratic family, of 
 great social position and influence. Mrs. 
 Goldman had worshiped at their shrine, 
 and saw now, with terror, a breach opened 
 between her house and their's. So she de- 
 termined not to commit herself, but keep 
 her forces in reserve. 
 
 "You see the impossibility of accepting 
 an invitation thus limited," said Antonia 
 to Madame la Generale. " Do you not, 
 dear aunt?" 
 
 "Decidedly. Accept our regrets, Mrs. 
 Armistead. Our guest, whatever his polit- 
 ical opinions may be, is our guest. If the 
 family visit any entertainment, he accom- 
 panies us. If we accept any invitation, it 
 must include him." And the old lady 
 opened her fan, as a peacock might unfold 
 his tail, and waved it in the manner ot the 
 Empress Maria Louisa. 
 
 " But consider my dear Madame Outon. 
 I owe some regard to the excitement of 
 minds just now !" 
 
 "I can not advise you as to your duties, 
 madam. But I know that we shall, with 
 regret, miss a pleasant evening at your 
 house," said the old lady, with a politeness 
 somewhat acidulous. 
 
 " But thev would surelv quarrel. I am 
 
Differ KNCEs. 133 
 
 sincerely grieved that you will not attempt 
 to compreheud my position." 
 
 " You have, no doubt, acted as be.seemsa 
 lady of Mrs. Armistead's breeding. You 
 possess my regard too entirely, for me- to 
 review your motives in any case." 
 
 Mrs. Armistead was silent for a few mo- 
 ments. Then she resumed, with a grace- 
 ful smile : 
 
 " Will you pardon my want of tact, and 
 accept my invitation for all your family, in- 
 cluding Mr. Welland, or any other guest 
 you may please to bring? I shall be 
 happy t« see you all, and grateful for the 
 honor." 
 
 At this, Mrs. Goldman, ignoring nerves 
 and all, hastened to reply : 
 
 "With great pleasure, Mrs. Armistead. 
 I am Sure, my aunt can find no further ob- 
 jection." 
 
 Madame la Generale looked but half sat- 
 isfied, and said nothing. So Mrs. Armis- 
 tead resumed : 
 
 "Accept my apologies Madame Outon, 
 and remember, that whatever happens, I 
 am irresponsible. If uncongenial minds 
 are forced together, no one can foretell the 
 result." And she prepared to take her 
 leave. 
 
 Madame la Generale accepted the invita- 
 tion, and with Mrs. Goldman accompanied 
 their visitor to the door. 
 
 Tourtelotte had been sitting in a corner 
 all this time, seemingly engaged in looking 
 over a book of engravings. But he had 
 
134 Differences. 
 
 been deeply attentive, notwithstanding. 
 He had seen, morever, what was not ob- 
 served by the rest, that Antouia was so ag- 
 itated during this conversation, that she 
 pulled to pieces an elegant little feather fan 
 she happened to hold in her hand, without 
 seeming to be aware of what she was do- 
 ing. As the ladies left the parlor, she sat 
 down, and oblivious of Tourtelotte's pres- 
 ence, heaved a deep sigh. He came softly, 
 and stood behind her. He observed through 
 the window, that when Mrs. Armistead 
 had gone, Mrs. Goldman's carriage drove 
 up, and that lady and her aunt retired to 
 dress for their drive. After a few minutes 
 they re-appeared, and were driven oft' by 
 the sable coachman. Still he spake not a 
 word, but stood silently behind Antonia, 
 who gazed into her lap buried in thought, 
 and entirely unconscious of his presence. 
 
 It was very quiet in thatlarge, cool room. 
 The sun made fanciful figures of light and 
 shade, and the wind playing with the 
 boughs, sent the shadows spinning over 
 the green lawn. There was a soothing 
 rustle in the leafy elm trees, and the hum 
 of a sunny day pervaded the air. 
 
 At last Tourtelotte heaved a sigh, and 
 said : 
 
 ''Poor fan!" 
 
 Antonia started and rose. She rallied in 
 a moment, and said with an assumption of 
 playfulness : 
 
 *♦ Mr. Tourtelotte, how could you manage 
 
Differences. 135 
 
 to keep so quiet ? You deserve to be eieoted 
 god of silence." 
 
 But Tourtelotte gathered up the frag- 
 ments of the fan, and the scattered feathei-s, 
 and asked, reproachfully : 
 
 *'At whose shrine was this sacrificed? 
 Not to the god of silence ?" 
 
 Antonia blushed violently. Still she en- 
 deavored to keep up the playful tone she 
 had assumed, and replied : 
 
 " No. Gods are uot propitiated by hav- 
 ing their own gifts rent to pieces before 
 them. Don't you remember, you gave me 
 this fan ?" 
 
 " Yes. Nor are men propitiated by such 
 a proceeding." 
 
 ** Don't be severe, Mr, Tourtelotte. I am 
 very sorry, for I prized this fan highly, but 
 still more sorrj^ if I have offended you. 
 When I am agitated, I can not keep my 
 fingers quiet. I am a real bird of prey 
 then, and always tear what is nearest to 
 me." 
 
 " I know it; and you have torn my heart 
 more than once," 
 
 " I think I p.ever held that article in my 
 hands," replied Antonia, turning some- 
 what pale. *' I am sure that it would be in 
 bad keeping if confided to me." 
 
 "Oh, if you would accept it !" cried Tour- 
 telotte, seizing her hand, his dark eyes 
 flashing with passion. 
 
 '* Better retain it for the present, sir," 
 said Antonia, withdrawing her hand, and 
 forcing herself to smile. " I would not 
 
136 D I F F K K F. N C E .S . 
 
 know what to do with it. T'esides you will 
 need it, if the South goes to war. 
 
 " Take it, and rend it as you have this 
 fan I But only take it." 
 
 " I like you too much Mr, Tourtelotte — " 
 
 "And love me too little! Oh, I knew 
 it!" 
 
 Antonia saw that he was highly excited. 
 So she rose,, ajod gently holding out her 
 hand to him, said in those deep, rich tones 
 that thrilled every heart : 
 
 '• Frank Tourtelotte, don't make your- 
 self miserable by giving waj' to feelings, 
 which had better be repressed. I am your 
 friend, be content." 
 
 " Content Avith the perfume, while an- 
 other plucks the rose? Content with your 
 friendship, while another enjoys your love? 
 Antonia, this is impossible !" 
 
 " Another ? Sir I j'ou are insulting I" 
 
 " Oh, jealousy has sharp eyes 1 But I 
 will make the South too hot to hold him. 
 I will be rid of him before long. And if 
 the entire devotion of a true heart can not 
 move you, circumstances may arise, which 
 will make Frank Tourtelotte's *arm and 
 r>rotectiou necessary to you." 
 
 *' I can not listen to such language." 
 
 " Miss Goldman^ we will forget evcrA* 
 thing that has transpired between us this 
 morning. Let events take their course, 
 and we may understand each other better 
 at some future time." 
 
 " I hope so," replied Antonia, smiling 
 sadly. "Why have you visited us so sel- 
 
Differences. 137 
 
 domoflate, Mr. Tourtelotte? i^ it true 
 that jDolitics claim yoa to such an extent, 
 that every other occupation is crowded out 
 of your thoughts?" 
 
 " It is true. Every occupation is crowded 
 out, but one." 
 
 " And that is ?" 
 
 *' Thinking of you." 
 
 " I am very grateful, though I did not 
 imagine myself to be a subject requiring 
 much thought." 
 
 *' Still, all my thoughts are devoted to 
 you." 
 
 '' Don't let us drift into sentimentalities 
 again, I pray. Have you heard the new 
 song ' Dixie' ?" 
 
 " No ; "will you favor me?" 
 
 " With pleasure. When aunt is at home, 
 I dare not venture on a song like this." 
 
 She sat down at the piano, and Tourte- 
 lotte gathered the fragments of the tan, and 
 pressed them violently against his beating 
 heart. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 About four days after the Presidential 
 election, Mrs. Armistead's party came off. 
 It was a beautiful November evening, and 
 the full moon deluged the landscape with 
 soft, silver light. The leaves had turned, 
 but very few of the trees had shed their 
 foliage. Here and there stood a maple, 
 with the deep, burning red upon its branch- 
 es, like a blood spot on the orange-brown 
 mantle of the hills ; a grape myrtle shook 
 
138 Differences. 
 
 out its boughs of crimson and gold, like 
 a flanie divided in many tongues. The 
 air had that mellow autumn fragrance 
 which simulates the flavor of a ripe apple, 
 and the cool wind saturated with dew, 
 made one shiver with a sensation half 
 pleasant and half annoying. 
 
 The guests had assembled in great num- 
 bers. The parlors, boudoir, sitting-room, 
 library, music-room, in fact the whole 
 house had been thrown open, and was filled 
 with groups of gaily-attired persons. Flow- 
 ers and lights met the eye at ever^'- turn. 
 In windows and corners, and from all 
 prominent points, hung elegant baskets of 
 gilded wire, full of bright red verbenas, 
 bordered with snowy asters. Vases, crowned 
 with japonicas, dazzling in their transpar- 
 ent purity, were relieved by sprigs of scar- 
 let geranium and orange blossoms. 
 Branches of ivy wound around the various 
 statuettes, and a magnificent bust of the 
 Venus di Milo was draped in a coil of pas- 
 sion flower, wit-h its voluptuous purple 
 buds overhanging that face of undying 
 beauty. 
 
 Every table and stand Mas laden with 
 gorgeous vessels to hold flowers, and the 
 fragrance of the roses, the odor of the he- 
 liotropes, sweet allysura and mignonette, 
 combined with the heavy perfume of hya- 
 cj^nths, cape jessamines and azaleas, filled 
 the house. Lamps were strewn about in 
 magnificent profusion, and a covered walk 
 bordered with Venetian lanterns of every 
 
Differences. 139 
 
 color, led into a large tent that had been 
 erected in the garden for the dancers. 
 
 The parlors were very elegant. Rose- 
 wood furniture covered with white silk da- 
 mask, and a carpet of white velvet, strewn 
 with moss roses. The pictures, and mirrors, 
 and curtains, gave life to this colorless 
 splendor. In a corner stood Mrs. Armis- 
 tead, supported by her husband and 
 daughter, receiving the guests. They had 
 an engaging word for all. As people left 
 this group, they strolled whither their in- 
 clinations carried them. Some of the older 
 ladies and gentlemen made at once for the 
 librarj'^, where card tables were set out. 
 The very young assembled in the music- 
 room, and had chats, and laughter, with 
 now and then a song, to give countenance 
 to the conversation. The matrons, and 
 mature young ladies gathered in groups in 
 the parlors, to greet and perhaps criticise 
 new arrivals. The gentlemen were every- 
 where, especially in the bachelor's den, a 
 small apartment, of whose existence the 
 ladies were supposed to be ignorant, and 
 in which wines, and liquors, and iced rum 
 punch were served by two mulatto boys. 
 The Goldmans arrived late. Mrs. Armis- 
 tead advanced two steps, and greeted tiiem 
 with especial politeness. To Welland she 
 was markedly kind. 
 
 Mrs. Goldman in purple moire-antique ; 
 Madame la Generale in black velvet, Brus- 
 sels lace and diamonds; Antonia in the 
 most vivid apple green, with bunches of 
 
140 Differences. 
 
 grass and silver sprigs in her hair ; these 
 were their dresses. Immediatelj' after hav- 
 ing bowed to their hostess, WeUand took 
 Antonia to the music-room, while the oth- 
 ers remained in the parlor. There was a 
 Ixush on their appearance, and then con- 
 versation only recovered after some spas- 
 modic efforts. WeUand at once felt that 
 intuitive chill, w^hich attacks one when 
 conscious of being out of place, or not wel- 
 come. The ladies of his acquaintance, who 
 addressed Antonia or gathered around her, 
 bowed to him with that politeness which 
 keeps one at a distance. The gentlemen 
 merely acknowledged his salutations, or 
 made frigid remarks in reply to his obser- 
 vations. With the self-possession of good 
 manners, the young man kept countenance 
 notwithstanding all this, though occasion- 
 ally his dark eyes flashed with anger. 
 
 From the tent in the garden, arose the 
 strains of music. All began to engage la- 
 dies. Hassel, wnih Mrs. Waddlekins on 
 his arm, led the way. Mrs. Waddlekins 
 was attired in the black satin that would 
 only hook on top, and draped in the shawl 
 that covered the defects of this garment. 
 As that lady swept b}' WeUand, she turned 
 her head away, and by a motion of her 
 hand, prevented the black satin from com- 
 ing in contact with him. This was pro- 
 ceeding to an extremity that the young la- 
 dies were not prepared to approve of, and 
 so they flushed, and one said : "^ 
 
 ** Mr. WeUand, I hope j'ou are not in love 
 
Differences. 141 
 
 with Mrs. Waddlekins. If so, your rival 
 seems to be in the ascendant." 
 
 " Yes," replied Welland, " and contrary 
 to the proverb, he seems to have equal for- 
 tune with ladies and in cards." 
 
 A laugh rewarded this sally, and soon all 
 were dancing in the large tent, with wai- 
 ters diving about, handing lemonades and 
 ices. 
 
 " Miss Goldman, will you accord me per- 
 mission to withdraw?" asked Welland, as 
 soon as he had an opportunity of address- 
 ing her alone. " I do not seem to be wel- 
 come." 
 
 " It is in consequence of political excite- 
 ment," replied Antonia, "but stay here, 
 IDlease ; stay and face it, Mr. Welland. 
 Will you do so, for my sake?" 
 
 " I will do whatever you wish." 
 
 Tourtelotte approached, and with an 
 apology to Welland, carried Antonia off 
 for a waltz. Being left alone, the young 
 German walked into the howse, and en- 
 tered the parlor. His appearance was the 
 signal for a knot of gentlemen to gather 
 around him. 
 
 "Mr. Welland," said one of them, an 
 English lawyer, '"'you are a gentleman of 
 deep study. Have you ever in your histo- 
 rical researches discovered traces of a na- 
 tion, that was continually occupied with 
 attempting to free the slaves of others, 
 vrhile it never succeeded in liberating it- 
 self from slavery? It was a nation of Teu- 
 tonic origin, I think." 
 
142 Differences. 
 
 "The very same that liberated the Brit- 
 ons from their invaders, centuries ago," re- 
 torted Welland. 
 
 " They are truly unselfish," said an- 
 other. " They claim the negro as a brother, 
 and we help to equalize these brethren in 
 spirit, by tarring the one a little that he 
 may resemble his brother also in appear- 
 ance." 
 
 *' That is, no doubt, a convincing argu- 
 ment," returned Welland. " And it should 
 be, since it is the only one." 
 
 " Oh no, we have others. There are 
 beautiful horsewhips manufactured in the 
 South." 
 
 " And in the North, sir, they make fine 
 revolvers." 
 
 Mr. Armistead broke into the circle, fol- 
 lowed by a servant with a tray of refresh- 
 ments. 
 
 " Gentlemen, will you not take ices?" he 
 asked. " Mr. Welland, I have a message 
 for you. Miss Armistead is about to sing 
 something, and requests you to accompany 
 her on the piano." 
 
 Welland bowed, and crossing to the 
 other side, offered the young lady his arm 
 to lead her to the music-room. 
 
 By the time Miss Armistead had finished 
 that song, and tried another, a good num- 
 ber of young people had returned to the 
 room. There was a lull in dancing. The 
 , mudcians declared that they must rest a 
 
 I little. 
 
 I So when she left the side of the piano, 
 
Differences. 143 
 
 Miss Armistead requested Welland to give 
 
 them a song, some German or Tyrolean 
 
 ballad. He bowed, and striking some rich 
 
 accords, began that beautiful Alpine song: 
 
 "The May breezes." With touching pathos, 
 
 he repeated the sad chant: 
 
 "When Spring time returneth, 
 The flowers bloom once more; 
 But love in a life-time 
 Blooms once, and 'tis o'er." 
 
 Then Miss Goldman sang an aria from 
 some opera, and others followed. Pres- 
 ently a young man turned to Welland, and 
 said: 
 
 *'How^ queer people are! Now it is in- 
 comprehensible to me how any one of no- 
 ble feelings and good education, can not 
 see at once that our negroes are best situ- 
 ated as at present, and that thej- would 
 perish of want if left to themselves." 
 
 " Who would perish of want ?" inquired 
 W^elland. '* The masters ?" 
 
 "The negroes, sir!" repeated the young 
 man, fiercely. 
 
 " I have little doubt of it," replied Wel- 
 land. "They have not been taught to act 
 for themselves. I don't know how this 
 condition is ever to be amended, but I have 
 given little thought to the subject." 
 
 "If you have given little thought to it, 
 why do you act as you do, sir? Why do 
 you not leave the South in the proper en- 
 joyment of their property, sir?" 
 
 " My dear young man," replied Welland, 
 smiling, " has the South delegated you to 
 put this question to me? I am not aware 
 
144 DiFFEREXCHS. 
 
 of having disturbed it in the enjoyment of 
 its property." 
 
 "Excuse me," returned the other, a lit- 
 tle confused, ** but are you not — I beg 
 your pardon, for applyi-ng such a term to 
 you— don't feel insulted if it isn't true — are 
 you not r.n— an abolitionist?" 
 
 " And ir I vere ? Don't 3-0U believe that 
 abolitionists p) to heaven sometimes?" 
 
 " No sir," replied the Rev. Mr. Broad- 
 cloth, who had heard this question. *' Abo- 
 litionists do not go to heaven, because they 
 act contrary to the commands of the bible, 
 ■which orders slavery, and which has cursed 
 the race of Ham, and which subordinates 
 the heathen to the believer. We are in- 
 struments of God's vengeance in enslaving 
 the African race, sir." 
 
 Mr. Armistead came up, and seized the 
 Rev. Mr. Broadcloth's arm. 
 
 *' Will jon say grace, my dear sir ? We 
 are about to proceed to table." 
 
 And every gentleman ofiered his arm to 
 a lady, and followed Mr. and Mrs. Armis- 
 tead to the dining-room, where the ladies 
 took seats, and the gentlemen waited on 
 them. Soon foaming champagne was 
 handed about in those large goblets, light 
 as a feather, that correspond so well with 
 the character of the wine, and seem bub- 
 bles themselves, ready to burst or melt at 
 a touch. Conversation grew sprightly be- 
 yond description, and the Armisteads, 
 with infinite art, knew how to put in a 
 word here, loin in a laugh there, and start 
 
DiFFEREXCES. 145 
 
 subjects that set people talking or laugh- 
 ing. Their servants were perfection. They 
 anticipated the wants of the guests, and 
 while they prevented any one from being 
 at trouble to help his partner, they were 
 not obtrusive enough to rob the gentlemen 
 of the gallant privilege of supplying the 
 ladies. There was animation in every 
 countenance, and a smile on every lip. 
 
 Antonia and Welland were in the recess 
 of a window, chatting and laughing in 
 great good humor. While they were eat- 
 ing heartily, the lady exerted herself to the 
 utmost to drive away the clouds which 
 previous conversations had conjured up on 
 his brow. She succeeded admirably, Wel- 
 land had soon forgotten the existence of 
 everybody else, and gazed into those sea- 
 blue eyes with the devoted intensity of an 
 Arabian astrologer, seeking to read his fate 
 in the stars of heaven. They were so near 
 to each other, that the breeze entering at 
 the window, once or twice blew one of her 
 sunny curls across his face, and made him 
 shiver at the contact, with an intensity of 
 delight that he had never before experi- 
 enced. Caution, reason, resolutions, all 
 melted away as snow, before the fascina- 
 tion of the moment. He was completely 
 bewitched, and had ceased to be master of 
 his emotions. 
 
 Suddenly a hand was thrust through the 
 
 open v/indow, and seized him by the arm. 
 
 He turned. It was Sellington Sharp, who 
 
 stood upon the verandah. He whispered : 
 
 10 
 
146 Differences. 
 
 " Come out at once. Great danger threat- 
 ens you, so help me God ! Come out, and 
 away with me." 
 
 " But," returned Welland, " I can not 
 understand—" 
 
 A great noise arose in the hall. Every 
 one turned an expectant face to the door. 
 Heavy steps approached, and a man, 
 roughly clad, and covered with dust, en- 
 tered. At bis appearance, Mr. Armistead 
 sprang forward, and cried in a voice choked 
 with excitement: 
 
 *' Have you news? What is the result?" 
 
 ^' Abraham Lincoln has been elected," 
 replied the man. 
 
 A deadly silence ensued, followed by a, 
 cry of exeera.t.ioH. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Step out immediately," whispered Sel- 
 lington Sharp. " You will not be able to 
 pass by the door, on account of the crowd. 
 Step out of this window." 
 
 The window was of French fashion, and 
 reached down to within a few inches of the 
 floor. Sharp, who had seized Welland's 
 arm, drew him out of the room with fran- 
 tic energy, while Antonia, vaguely sus- 
 pecting the danger, hastened his retreat by 
 urgent entreaties. 
 
 **Well, what do j'ou want?" inquired 
 Welland, reluctantly following his guide, 
 who kept hold of his arm, and walked j^im 
 through the garden. 
 
Differences. 147 
 
 " I will tell you in good time, Mr. Wel- 
 land," replied Sharp, opening a door at the 
 further end of the garden, and passing out 
 with his captive. 
 
 A buggy was in waiting. 
 
 " But my hat, Mr. Sharp," said the young 
 man, " let me return for it." 
 
 "Get in immediately. I am thinking 
 more of your head, than of your hat." 
 
 They both got in, and the negro who 
 drove, whipped up the horse in fine style. 
 It went rapidly over the smooth, sandy 
 roads toward Pineland. Welland could 
 not avoid noticing that they made use of 
 by-roads, and rather kept aloof from the 
 highway. As Mr. Sharp was silent on the 
 subject of this extraordinary abduction, 
 Welland thought it better not to question 
 him, but await the development with pa- 
 tience. 
 
 The moon half veiled, gave a timid light, 
 a light that seemed to pass through the me- 
 dium of ground glass. There were milky 
 vapors in the atmosphere. On both sides 
 of the road the pine woods rose, full of mys- 
 tic silence and awful shadows. The con- 
 tinued crunching of the sand as the wheels 
 passed over it, was the only sound they 
 heard, beside the croaking of the bull frogs 
 in their swampy meres. 
 
 At last they reached Pineland. The>» 
 approached it from the rear, and dis- 
 mounted near a door that led to Sharp's 
 apartments. 
 
 *'Ned," said the manager, "put the 
 10* 
 
148 Differences. 
 
 horse into the stable, and go to bed. Don't 
 
 mention that you've been away." 
 
 The intelligent negro nodded, and Sharp 
 now led the way to the rooms. After en- 
 tering them, he locked the door and said : 
 
 *' Now, Mr. Welland, make j^ourself com- 
 fortable, for you must remain here all 
 night. I can trust to Ned's discretion, but 
 beside him none ot the servants must know 
 of your presence." 
 
 ** My dear Mr. Sharp, all this looks very 
 mysterious. May I ask, first of all, why 
 you have carried me away bareheaded 
 from Mrs. Armistead's house, without even 
 giving me time to take leave of my hostess? 
 And then, may I inquire what those hints 
 of danger import, which you have thrown 
 out to me ? You are too grave a man to 
 perpetrate a practical joke, but I puzzle 
 my brains iu vain to discover the cause of 
 your proceeding." 
 
 " It is no joke. Would it wereJ" 
 
 " What Ciin j'ou mean ? We are not in 
 France or Aiistria, where a secret order 
 may doom a man to imprisonment for 
 manj' years, nor in Italy where bravos as- 
 sassinate one unawares." 
 
 "We are in worse than either of these 
 countries. Much worse. Much worse!" 
 And Mr. Sharp cast a troubled look into 
 his millstone, and seemed to derive no 
 gratification therefrom. 
 
 " Speak plain, if you please." 
 
 ** We are in a country where the men ac- 
 quire their civilization, as we eat soup, in 
 
Differences. 149 
 
 large doses. All the ferocity of the savage 
 is left, and comes to the surface ^vhen they 
 are stirred up, just as the forced meat-balfs 
 will float on top, -when I stir my soup." 
 
 *• But what have I to do Avith their civili- 
 zation ?" 
 
 "Enough. Have you never heard of 
 lynch law?" 
 
 " Yes, often. It is the virtuous expedi- 
 ent of the populace when a crime is com- 
 mitted, that outrages humanity, and which 
 the laws can not reach, or its executives 
 will not punish." 
 
 Sharp looked at him with a pityingsmile. 
 *' It may be so defined in your university 
 books, but it's a different thing here. Do 
 you know what it is here ? Do you know ? 
 Here it is a mob of a thousand or more 
 people crazy with liquor and excitement. 
 Here it is a crowd of intoxicated beasts, of 
 raving wolves, of mad bulls. Here it is a 
 concourse of maniacs that have gotten hold 
 of one poor human being and are deter- 
 mined to torture him with a coat of seeth- 
 ing pitch and a ride on a rail ; and if the 
 stones thrown and the pistols discharged 
 do not make an end of him, they duck him 
 in a horse-pond until it is discovered that 
 he Is a corpse. That is lynch law in Ten- 
 nessee." 
 
 " Do these things actually happen ? " 
 
 ^ " Do they happen? Look at him,"' cried 
 
 Sharp, appealing to the ceiling, "look at 
 
 him sitting there and asking: do these 
 
 things actually happen ? Mr. Welland " 
 
150 Differences. 
 
 he cried with a pounce atbim, '* you would 
 have experienced what lynch law was, had 
 I not gone for you to the Armisteads. Mr. 
 Welland, the town is crazy over the election 
 of Abraham Lincoln, and they were going 
 to lie in wait for you, and lynch you as an 
 abolitionist spy." 
 
 "But I am not an abolitionist. I actually 
 do not belong to any political party." 
 
 " Much good this assertion would have 
 done you. You might as well have re- 
 monstrated with a mad dog that had you 
 by the throat." 
 
 " I can scarce believe in the reality of 
 this danger, and besides it would not have 
 been easy to use force with me," said Wel- 
 land, shaking his muscular arm. 
 
 "Are you crazy ?" cried Sharp, "or can 
 you slay thousands like Samson ? " 
 
 " Neither the one nor the other. But I 
 am a man who knows how to defend him- 
 self." 
 
 " I have no patience with you. If you 
 are absolutely mad, and want to fight 
 somebody, I will have my servant Ned 
 called, and you can pound him as long as 
 you like." 
 
 " Forgive me," said Welland, " but I can 
 not realize my danger as yet." 
 
 "I should think you could not. Now 
 you have gotten me into an excitement, 
 and spoiled my digestion." 
 
 " I hope not. Let us entirely lay aside 
 the question of my danger, and talk of a 
 more pleasant subject." 
 
Differences. 151 
 
 "Ah, true! Your queer ideas have 
 driven all thoughts of propriety from my 
 mind. Remember, you will stay here with 
 me, unbeknown to any body in the house. 
 That is necessary for the safety of the fam- 
 ily." 
 
 "If my presence endangers any one, 
 please let me go at once." 
 
 "Mr. Welland," screamed Sharp, "if 
 you are not entirely crazed, don't provoke 
 me any further. But," he continued, in a 
 milder voice, " I am forgetting my duties 
 as host. Mr. Welland," and he laid his 
 hand confidentially on the young man's 
 shoulder, " you must feel chilled and tired. 
 You shall taste my Italian wines, and a 
 bit of Boeuf a la mode of ray own cuisine^ 
 before you retire." 
 
 In vain were all protestations to the con- 
 trary. In a few minutes the little stove, 
 which stood in a corner of the room, blazed 
 with a merry fire. Mr. Sharp put a white 
 apron on, rolled up his sleeves, and opened 
 a large cupboard. Thence he procured a 
 saucepan and some dishes. Presently he 
 disappeared, and returned with a piece of 
 steak, folded in a white napkin. Now the 
 manager began operations in earnest. His 
 face glowed with satisfaction, as he ex- 
 plained to Welland the various stages of 
 the process he was subjecting the meat to. 
 
 "First of all, my dear sir," he said, "I 
 put a lump of goose grease into the pan. 
 This is preferable to any other fat." 
 
 "Now," he continued, with the tears 
 
152 Differences. 
 
 running down bis cheeks, " I slice these 
 small onions, and pnt them into the fat. 
 The cover must come on, because the on- 
 ions are to be soiiffle to retain their full 
 flavor. They insisted on that in the 48th 
 of the line." 
 
 " And now," he said, " the onions being 
 browned, I add claret, and stir the mess. 
 They prefer Rhine wine or Moselle in 
 Strasburg, but claret is more correct." 
 
 "These are Champignons, mushrooms 
 they call them here," he continued, show- 
 ing Welland the small pyramidal bodies. 
 *' I slice them, and put them with the rest, 
 just one minute before I add a few bits of 
 carrot. Some people also suggest potato, 
 but that is vulgar." 
 
 " Now comes the seasoning. Then more 
 claret, and one spoonful of Madeira. Look 
 at this meat !" he cried. "It is larded as 
 they call it. Perforated with little holes, 
 and bits of goose fat forced in ! A bit of 
 garlic rubbed over it ! A thought of red 
 pepper! And into the pan it goes! On 
 with the cover, and stew- for ten minutes. 
 This was the favorite dish of His Majesty, 
 the King of the French." 
 
 "Louis Phiilipe?" asked Welland. 
 
 " Yes, and he w^as a connoisseur. I knew 
 his body cook." 
 
 " Now," he continued, " I will set the 
 table," and he proceeded to do so with 
 great neatness, ^y the time he had fin- 
 ished, the meat was ready, and being 
 
Differences. 153 
 
 turned out upon a dish that had be?n 
 warming, it was placed upon the table. 
 
 '' Before we eat," said Shari?, ^'let us 
 drink this;" and he poured from a large 
 bottle a deep yellow wine into two very 
 small glasses. 
 
 Welland drank. 
 
 *' This is Vermouth," he said, recognizing 
 that aromatic wine of Pyrmont, which, re- 
 sembling Abscynthein bitterness of taste, 
 has come into general use as an appetizer. 
 
 •' Aye," replied Sharp, " and of the best. 
 But is impolite to let the meat wait. 
 Permit me to help you. A king of France 
 might eat of this on his wedding daj." 
 
 Welland tasted it. It was delicious. The 
 vapors that arose from the dish, might 
 have tempted a god to desert his nectar. 
 There was an aroma of culinary refine- 
 ment, and a perfection of taste in it, that 
 justified Sharp's countenance beaming 
 with triumph. He was glorified, and while 
 his eyes watched every emotion of pleasure 
 on Welland's face, with increasing satis- 
 faction, he himself allowed, so to say, the 
 morsels to melt on his tongue, and swal- 
 lowed them at last, with a sigh of pleasure. 
 No Lucullus ever enjoyed a meal to such 
 an extent. 
 
 Welland wished to speak once or twice. 
 But Sharp lifted his hand in a frightened 
 manner. "Don't disturb me," he whis- 
 pered. " Don't speak. Give your mind to 
 the eating. This hoeuf must be eaten with 
 
154 Differences. 
 
 all attention, lest you lose some of the fla- 
 vor." 
 
 So they feasted in silence. Presently 
 Sharp lifted two bottles from under the ta- 
 ble. 
 
 "Burgundy or Capri Rosso?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 *' Capri," replied Wellaud, extending his 
 glass. The wine was old, and sparkled in 
 ruby splendor in the cut goblet. It was 
 magnificent. Rich, warm, dry almost to 
 crispness, and with a great deal of body. 
 
 " Glorious," cried the young man; "it 
 is a long — " 
 
 " Don't speak," interrupted Sharp. "Put 
 all your mind on your palate. It is eigh- 
 teen years old." 
 
 They finished the bottle. Sharp arose 
 and removed the d ishes. He placed roasted 
 chestnuts and Italian cheese upon the table. 
 Then procured new glasses, and another 
 bottle of wine. 
 
 " What excellent chestnuts," remarked 
 Welland. 
 
 "I boil them, and soak them in claret 
 before roasting," replied Sharp. " Now 
 taste this wine." As he opened the bottle 
 and filled the glasses, the room was per- 
 vaded with a perfume as of flowers. The 
 wine was of a bright, golden hue, and frag- 
 rant beyond description. 
 
 " This is the nectar of the gods," cried 
 Welland. 
 
 "Only Amarena di Siracusa, The best 
 dessert wine in the world." 
 
Differences. 155 
 
 It was divine. It was the sunshine of 
 Italian skies ; it was the fragrance of 
 orange gardens, the mellowness of over- 
 ripe figs, the fire of a southern climate, and 
 the sweetness of Sicilian summers, liquified 
 and imprisoned in a bottle. There is no 
 wine in the world at once so soft and so 
 fiery, so sweet and so strong, as this mag- 
 nificent Amarena. 
 
 While they were still sipping it, a noise 
 like the growl of the sea, was heard ap- 
 proaching the house. As it neared, it 
 proved to be the cry of a great multitude. 
 Both arose from their chairs. Sharp was 
 pale as death. 
 
 ** You see," said Welland, calmly, "your 
 efforts were in vain." 
 
 '* Great heaven," cried Sharp, " it is the 
 mob !" 
 
 " I will go and meet them. This house 
 shall noi be endangered by my presence." 
 
 ** For God's sake, stay," cried Sharp. 
 " You endanger it by showing- that you 
 were hidden here. Promise me to sray, and 
 I swear to you, I will send you forth in 
 time to prevent any mischief to this man- 
 sion." 
 
 " But how will you do it?" 
 
 " Let me manage. I can do more than 
 prepare boeiif a la mode/^ 
 
156 Differences. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The north-eastern part of Tennessee re- 
 sembles North Carolina in many respects. 
 In none more than in the possession of a 
 number of so-called *' poor whiles." — 
 These are miserable beings, raised in the 
 swamps and pine woods on corn and bacon, 
 and hereditarily endowed with scrofula 
 and diseases of the liver, while intermittent 
 and remittent fevers are their semi-annual 
 guests. They cultivate a small patch of 
 ground in a poor, lazy way, and keep a 
 few half starved hogs. Their huts are 
 filthy, and their gardens choked up with 
 weeds. They marry quite young, and 
 very many of their children are yellow and 
 dropsical. Their intelligence is at mini- 
 mum. 
 
 The chief sources of dependence of these 
 poor whites, are the large plantations. 
 They trade in a small way with the negro 
 servants for the articles that they have 
 raised, or filched from the produce of the 
 plantation. They eat the crumbs that fall 
 from the planter's table. They accept cast- 
 off things, and are indifierent to the extent 
 of their misery, if not compelled to work. 
 
 To enumerate all their sources of rev- 
 enue, we must not forget that they manu- 
 lacture slats from the pine tree, win a little 
 turpentine from the same, burn charcoal, 
 and gather kindling wood from the decay- 
 ing trunks, and trade in blackberries. 
 
 This part of the population is ever ready 
 
Differences. 157 
 
 to do a planter's bidding. They look up to 
 him as vassals to their feudal l^rd. They 
 follow his lead, especially at the polls, and 
 their vote goes as far as that of any other 
 man. Moreover, th-ey are handy with the 
 rifle and bowie knife, and therefore, not to 
 be despised in actual difficulties. 
 
 It was chiefly of these poor whites the 
 mob was composed, which now approached 
 the house atPineland. Sharp and Welland 
 had both entered one of the front rooms, 
 and saw them come near. They also saw, 
 behind the main crowd, several figures on 
 horseback, which seemed to direct the 
 movements of 'the rest. At a little disr 
 tance from the house a halt was made, and 
 a consultation held. Then four or five de- 
 tached themselves from the main body, 
 and approached the front door. Sharp 
 hastened down-stairs to receive them, 
 while Welland remained on the upper 
 landing to overhear, if possible, their con- 
 versation. 
 
 On being admitted, the spokesman of the 
 five, who was a tall, gaunt figure, in a 
 broad-brimmed hat and dirty homespun, 
 inquired, politely enough, for Mr. Gold- 
 man. 
 
 " He is from home," replied Sharp. "He 
 and his family are at Mr. Armistead's 
 house.'' 
 
 ** Where is the young man that has been 
 staying here for the past week?" was the 
 next question. 
 
 "Vv^hom do 3/oa mean ? Mr. Welland?" 
 
158 Differences. 
 
 "Aye, that's his name, I believe," replied 
 the other, with a laugh. " Where is he?" 
 
 " He has gone with the lamily to Mr. 
 Armistead's." 
 
 " But he isn't there any more." 
 
 '• Then I don't know where he is. 1 ex- 
 pect him to return with Mr. Goldman. 
 They must be here soon." 
 
 '* Well, we'll wait, and inspect the house 
 meanwhile." 
 
 *' In a moment. Permit me to order can- 
 dles, and something to drink for you." 
 
 Sharp left the room, and rushed up- 
 stairs. In a minute, he had ascertained 
 that guards surrounded the house. So he 
 seized Welland, and dragged him back 
 into his own room, pushed him into the 
 closet where his dishes were kept, and 
 crowded him behind a huge dresser. 
 
 *' Remain quiet for our sake and your 
 own !" he whispered, and ran down again, 
 rousing his servant by the way, and order- 
 ing lights. 
 
 *' Now, gentlemen," he said, " if you will 
 come into my own room, and taste some 
 superior brandy I have there, your people 
 can search the house, as you seem to con- 
 sider that necessary." 
 
 "Of course we do," replied the leader, 
 and sent one of his followers for some more 
 assistance. " Nothing shall be touched. 
 All we want is the young abolitionist." 
 
 "Is he an abolitionist?" asked Sharp, 
 leading the way to his apartment. 
 
 " Didn't you know it ?" asked the leader. 
 
Differences. 159 
 
 " He is a regular spy, sent here to carry ofif 
 niggers." 
 
 " You astonish me. How do you like 
 this brandy ?" 
 
 *' It's first rate. Makes one feel right 
 pert," drawled out one of the five. 
 
 "Tastes after more," decided the leader. 
 
 So the glasses were re-filled. 
 
 There they sat on chairs and lounges 
 with the little table, at which Welland and 
 Sharp had supped, in their midst, and the 
 half-open closet where the former was con- 
 cealed, not ten feet from any one of them. 
 Others searched the house, without result, 
 while these drank Sharp's excellent 
 brandy. 
 
 Suddenly they heard the sound of wheels 
 approaching the house, followed by a loud 
 noise at the front door. 
 
 They listened for a moment, and then de- 
 scended. The family had arrived, accom- 
 panied by Tourtelotte. The carriage halted 
 at a little distance from the mansion, while 
 Tourtelotte, who was on horseback, dashed 
 up to the door and inquired in a voice of 
 thunder ; • 
 
 " What does all this mean ? What do 
 you want here?" 
 
 The men were silent, but one of the fig- 
 ures on horseback approached, and seized 
 Tourtelotte's arm. 
 
 '• Don't interrupt them," he said, " they 
 are looking for the abolitionist spy, Wel- 
 land." 
 
 '* Hazelton !" cried Tourtelotte. " And 
 
160 Differences. 
 
 you are leading them? Now, by the eter- 
 nal God, call these fellows off, or you are a 
 dead man !" He had drawn a pistol from 
 his holsters, and brought its muzzle in con- 
 tact with Hassel's forehead. 
 
 The gambler shrank back. 
 
 "ItV none of my concern," he said. "I 
 am not tl^oir commander, nor haye I set 
 them on." 
 
 *' Yon are my surety that they shall 
 leave, at any rate," cried Tonrtelotte, shak- 
 ing him until he slid from the saddle to the 
 ground. And then, turning to those that 
 had been in the house, and whom the noise 
 had called to the door, he cried : 
 
 "Get out of this house, ye swamp hounds, 
 that prowl about at night ! How dare you 
 enter a gentleman's house without his 
 leave ?" 
 
 " We are looking for an abolitionist here, 
 ]Mr. Tourtelotte," said the tall, gaunt 
 leader. 
 
 " Do you suppose he would sit down and 
 wait for you, stupids? He might be half 
 way to Kentucky b}^ this time." 
 
 *' We^e searched the house, and can't 
 find him, so we might as well go," replied 
 the other, turning a questioning glance 
 upon his companions. 
 
 " The old gentleman's liquor is first rate. 
 Let's get some more," suggested one. 
 
 ** I'll season your liquor with powder and 
 ead, my boy," cried Tourtelotte. " Ofx 
 wiin vou men, and if vou want to find 
 
Differences. 161 
 
 abolitionists, look for them on the way to 
 Cumberland Pass." 
 
 The crowd, however, were unwilling to 
 depart without a '* treat." They mur- 
 mured, and finally demanded it. So Sharp, 
 who now ventured out, made some negroes 
 bring forth a keg of spirits and tin cups, 
 and began to supply the mob with drink. 
 Tourtelotte had returned to the carriage, 
 and quieted the ladies. Madame la Gener- 
 ale was indignant beyond expression, and 
 talked of paying a visit to the French min- 
 ister at Washington, and demanding satis- 
 faction from the United States for this out- 
 rage, committed on a French subject. 
 Antonia was pale and silent, while Mrs. 
 Goldman grew profuse in her expressions 
 of gratitude to the young Creole. 
 
 Finally, the mob broke up, and the la- 
 dies left the carriage, and entered the 
 house. As soon as they were fairly in the 
 parlor, Mrs. Goldman fainted away com- 
 fortably upon a sofa. Salts and cold water 
 being brought into requisition, she gave 
 signs of returning life, and finally was 
 brought to entirely, with a great deal of 
 trouble. Madame la Generale had not got- 
 ten over her rage, but still siiow red 
 French denunciations upon the sauvages, 
 who dared to invade the privacy of a gen- 
 tleman's mansion. Antonia, who was 
 painfully embarrassed by the course of 
 events, hastened to make an end of the 
 present scene, by dismissing Tourtelotte. 
 
 " Sir," she said to him, " you have proved 
 11 
 
163 Differences. 
 
 yourself a ^preiiz chevalier^ this night. Be- 
 lieve me, I shall not forget your chival- 
 resque interference in our behalf. Let me 
 entreat your return to-morrow morning, 
 for we need the advice of our friends in this 
 unfortunate affair." 
 
 She gave her hand to him, and in bow- 
 ing, her curls, heavy and damp, touched 
 his fingers. Quick as lightning, ho lifted 
 that slender soft hand, and brushed it with 
 his lips. A sea of blushes deluged the 
 young lady's face and neck, succeeded by 
 a sad, pale color, and a glance of her sea- 
 blue eyes, serious and pityful. 
 
 So Tourtelotte passed out, and mounted 
 his horse. Giving him the spurs, the noble 
 animal bounded away swift as the wind. 
 But presently the rider changed his mind, 
 and drew the check rein with such vio- 
 lence, that the horse was forced back on 
 his haunches, and made a desperate deyni 
 volte, in order to keep on his feet. Tourte- 
 lotte turned, and shook his fist at the 
 house. 
 
 **Sentawayby that witch of a girl, 
 while he is probably concealed in the gar- 
 ret! Well, 'tis the last time. The events 
 of this evening have given me claims on 
 her. Let her see to it, that slie satisfy 
 them ! A time is coming, when the strong 
 arm of a man will be required to shield the 
 wealth of fathers, and the honor of daugh- 
 ters. Antonia, I claim thee as mine own 
 from this night ! Thy sea-blue eyes and 
 sunny curls, thy wealth and intelligence. 
 
Differences. 163 
 
 all must be mine ! Thou art my angel — 
 God grant that I may not be thy devil !" 
 
 He rode slowly on. 
 
 " As for him," he said, **I must make an 
 end of him. He will attempt to go North 
 "by the Pass, to-morrow or the day after. I 
 will tell Hazelton, and lend him my blood- 
 hound." 
 
 He lifted up his eyes, and behold, the 
 morning was breaking. While the expir- 
 ing moon fluttered like a wan shadow on 
 the sky, the hills in deep violet stood out 
 from the rose-tinted east behind them. 
 The early birds began to chirp, and the 
 freshness of a new day rose on the atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 " God help me," he said, "I will not be 
 a scoundrel. Whether he stays or goes, I 
 will hit him openly and in front. But I 
 will not set Hazelton on him, for he is 
 worse than a bloodhound." 
 
 And he galloped home, and sought his 
 couch. 
 
 At the window of her room stood Anto- 
 nia, and gazed after the retreating figure. 
 When he had disappeared behind the trees 
 that bordered the road, she extinguished 
 her lamp, drew back the curtains that 
 swept the ground, and raised the sash. The 
 fresh morning air came in damp with dew, 
 those tears that drop from the starry eyes 
 of night. The gray vapors rose from the 
 hills in large and fanciful shapes. The 
 east was bright with every shade of red, 
 and the sky above had the milky transpa- 
 11* 
 
164 Differences. 
 
 rency of pale, blue glass. The great golden 
 beams of the sun began to flash through 
 the red glow, and the day had fairly bro- 
 ken. 
 
 The delicate girl at that window gazed 
 out upon the sky and the trees, but saw 
 nothing. Her sea-blue eyes had a vacant 
 and abstracted look. Her sweet face was 
 somewhat wan. And the hair, with its or- 
 naments of green grass and silver sprigs, 
 hung listlessly upon her shoulders. 
 
 "I am afraid of him whenever he talks 
 so," she whispered to herself. *'I really 
 don't know what to do." 
 
 There was a tap at ker door, and on per- 
 mission a bright mulatto girl entered, who 
 immediately exclaimed : 
 
 ** Missie Tony, you'll catch your death of 
 cold. Let me shut that window. Has 
 your lamp gone out ?'' and she busied her- 
 self re-lighting it. 
 
 •' Undress me," said Antonia, wearily 
 sitting down upon a stool. 
 
 '* Yes Missie," and she began her task. 
 '* I've got something to tell j'-ou," 
 
 " What is it." 
 
 "Master Sharp wants me to ask you 
 when you can come to his room to-morrow, 
 before evening." 
 
 ''What for?" 
 
 *' Don't know. He wouldn't tell me." 
 
 "I'll see him in the afternoon, when 
 mother takes her drive." 
 
 As she gave this reply, was there a 
 brighter blush on her cheek ? . 
 
Differences. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 In the afternoon of the following day, 
 Antonia entered Sharp's room. The old 
 man received her, smiling slyly. 
 "Mr. Welland is in the house," he said. 
 "I supposed so," replied Antonia. 
 " When will he leave?" 
 
 " To-night, in case you consent to see 
 him." 
 "And if I refuse?" 
 
 " He will remain in the neighborhood." 
 "That is certain death. Why does he 
 insist on seeing me ?" she asked, with the 
 most innocent face in the world. 
 
 "I don't know," replied Sharp, winking 
 at his millstone. " He has been talking to 
 me all day of that hillside at the eastern 
 end of the estate. He says it contains 
 large quantities of iron, and needs only to 
 be worked to realize a colossal fortune. 
 Perhaps he wants to discuss the subjeofc 
 with you." 
 Antonia blushed and smiled. 
 " Is it truly so about that red streaked 
 hillside?" she asked. 
 
 "I am not sure," replied Sharp. "I 
 told him that our Tennessee mining au- 
 thorities had found the cost of digging out 
 the iron of the Alleghanies to exceed the 
 profits, especially in these parts." 
 "And he?" 
 
 " Merely laughed, and said he had in- 
 vented a new way, by which iron could be 
 won from the combination in which it is 
 
166 Differences. 
 
 found here, with less than half the expense 
 of other methods. He explained it to me, 
 but I couldn't follow him." 
 
 ** Don't you think his ideas are correct ?" 
 
 *' Yes, yes. He is very smart, and knows 
 a great deal. I believe he is correct. But 
 if I had a hundred thousand dollars in 
 bank, I wouldn't invest them in this enter- 
 prise." 
 
 " I hope he will reach the North safely." 
 
 ** You will see him then ?" 
 
 *' Yes. As he wants to see me, I suppose 
 I must." 
 
 *' Will you see him here ?" 
 
 " No. In the garden at sundown." 
 
 "Impossible. I couldn't allow that. It 
 is not safe for him, or quite proper for 
 you." 
 
 *' Perhaps you are right. Wait a mo- 
 ment. I will see him here." 
 
 " Now ?" 
 
 " Now." 
 
 Sellington Sharp left the room, and re- 
 turned presently with Welland. 
 
 "Miss Groldman," said the latter, "for- 
 give me for troubling you. But I couldn't 
 leave this State without seeing you, espe- 
 cially as I have no speedy return in view." 
 
 " I appreciate your motives," replied 
 Antonia. " Y^ou wished to convey through 
 me your farewell messages to my parents 
 and aunt." 
 
 SellingtoQ Sharp listened with a satiri- 
 cal smile to this ex(?hange of common- 
 places, and then said : 
 
Differences. 167 
 
 " Pray, excuse me. I have business that 
 requires my presence," and left them 
 alone. 
 They both grew very embarrassed. 
 "Miss Goldman," said Welland, and 
 then stopped. Antonia recovered her com- 
 posure first. She rose and gave him her 
 hand. 
 
 " Dear friend," she said, letting the full 
 gaze of her true sea-blue eyes rest upon 
 his face, "dear friend, must we then part ? 
 How many hours do I owe you, and how 
 sadJy shall I miss the companion by whose 
 side I have so often wandered through the 
 pleasant fields of literature! Let me hope 
 that quieter times will induceyou to return 
 hither, where we all, father, mother, aunt 
 and Mr. Sharp, have grown to look upon 
 you as a dear friend." 
 Welland looked up, and met her glance. 
 "Very precious to me," he said, "are 
 these assurances. To be considered a dear 
 friend by those I respect so highly, is a 
 satisfaction that counterbalances all the 
 odium with which the people of this neigh- 
 borhood seem to regard me. Still, Miss 
 Goldman, I am about to abuse the confi- 
 dence with which your parents have re- 
 garded me, and carried awaj^ by my pas- 
 sion, I am about to commit an act un- 
 worthy of a man of honor." 
 
 " You are incapable of it, sir," cried An- 
 tonia with enthusiasm. " I myself would 
 vouch for your honor." 
 The blood rose to Welland's cheeks, and 
 
168 DiFFEREJTCES. 
 
 hie eyes burned with that brilliant, far-off 
 light which shines from the stars of a 
 Southern sky. 
 
 "Yon shall be the. iudge," he said. "It 
 is but a few months ago that with small 
 means and unknown I came to this region 
 and entered the house of your parents. 
 There I was received with an open and 
 graceful hospitality that recalled the sense 
 of home to rae, to me, who has been home- 
 less for so long a period. This kindness 
 diminished not when scandalous reports 
 regarding my former life were spread by 
 an enemy, and found, as I now know, 
 general belief in the neighborhood. They 
 permitted me from the first to associate 
 without restraint with their daughter, a 
 young and beautiful lady, whose spirit 
 surpassed even the charms of her personal 
 appearance." 
 
 " Mr. Welland," cried Antonia in a voice 
 choking with emotion, " that daughter 
 owes to your companionship what no 
 schools or study could ever have taught 
 her. You have opened to her the gates of 
 the highest realms of human thought." 
 
 Welland pressed the hand he still held 
 in his own, and replied : 
 
 "And that daughter has opened to me 
 the gates of the highest realms of human 
 happiness. For— I dared to love her." 
 
 Antonia felt herself grow dizzy, and 
 reel beneath the influence of these words. 
 When consciousness returned she was up- 
 held by the strong arm of Welland. 
 
Differences. 169 
 
 •* It was ungenerous, it was perhaps dis- 
 honorable for nie to nourish aspirations in 
 regard to you," he pleaded, *' but I couldn't 
 help it! I fought against it, and I thought 
 I could conquer it. But it has conquered 
 
 me 
 
 f" 
 
 She only rested heavier against his arm, 
 and her head was bowed down still lower. 
 
 "Antonia," he cried, "I love you! Dear 
 Antonia speak one word in reply !" 
 
 Still no answer, only her head sank low 
 upon his breast. And he, with the fire of 
 passion, threw his arms around her, and 
 pressed her to his beating heart. 
 
 It was but a moment. Still it was a mo- 
 ment of ineflable bliss. 
 
 Then Antonia recovered her self-pos- 
 session, and gently extricated herself from 
 his embrace. 
 
 " Mr. Welland," she said, in a voice 
 scarce above a whisper, ** you have seen 
 that you are not indifferent to me." 
 
 '* Antonia," he replied, trembling with 
 joy and emotion, "you are an angel !" 
 
 She smiled sweetly ; for the compliments 
 of a lover are as precious jewels to a 
 woman. 
 
 " Let us now remember," continued An- 
 tonia, "what is due to my parents. The 
 factof our love," and she blushed deeply, 
 " is beyond recall, but it leaped into exist- 
 ence without our will." 
 
 " My reason fought against it, and I have 
 battled with my heart, until I thought it 
 subdued. But a single glance from your 
 
170 Differences. 
 
 even was enough to re-light the flame I la- 
 bored to extinguish." 
 
 **Then the fault is mine," she said, with 
 a roguish glance. "I confess that I have 
 never fought against this inclination, or 
 battled with my heart, because — " she 
 turned away, and with her handkerchief 
 hid her face, which was covered with 
 blushes. 
 
 "Because?" cried Welland, seizing her 
 hand, and covering it w'ith kisses. 
 
 " Because it made me so happy," mur- 
 mured Antonia. 
 
 The lover was in raptures. But Antonia 
 restrained him. 
 
 '* Louis Welland," she said, '* it was due 
 to our feelings to make this declaration. 
 It is due to my parents to proceed no 
 further. Let us rest satisfied with the con- 
 sciousness of mutual afifection, until the 
 time arrives when you may judge it proper 
 to demand my hand. Is it a compact ?" 
 
 •' And you will keep that hand for me? 
 I am seltish, I know. But Antonia, I love 
 you unspeakably !" 
 
 ** You will find me as you leave me. A 
 little older perhaps, but with the same 
 heart." 
 
 " Give me a keepsake ; some token that I 
 may look upon as a memorial of my Anto- 
 nia." 
 
 Antonia hesitated for a moment, and 
 then took from the table a small volume, 
 bound in blue and gold, which she had 
 brought with her. 
 
Differences. 171 
 
 " Here is Kinkel's Otto, the Hunter; he 
 composed it for his bride. It is as pure 
 and affectionate as my feelings for you. 
 Accept it as a tolien." 
 
 Welland took it, and bowed down to kiss 
 her hand. But with a quick motion she 
 touched his head, and bending until her 
 perfumed tresses swept around him, im- 
 printed a light kiss on his brow. 
 
 At the same moment she escaped by the 
 door. Welland ran after her. But both 
 stopped in surprise at what they beheld. 
 
 Mr. Sharp, with his face turned to the op- 
 posite wall, was executing a pas de seul. 
 He gently and reflectingly hopped from 
 one leg to the other, with the air of a bird 
 that is suffering from some internal disor- 
 der, attended by griping pains. But his 
 teelings must have been of an opposite na- 
 ture, since he accompanied this primitive 
 dance with a tune that sounded much like 
 the purr of a well pleased cat, and that was 
 occasionally interrupted by a short and 
 joyous laugh. As he proceeded, he in-, 
 cr^^ased in sprightliness. His humming 
 grew louder, and his leaps were of a more 
 ambitious nature. He seized his long flap- 
 ping coat tails, and shuffled beautifully, 
 ending with a grand pirouette. 
 
 Antonia burst into an immoderate fit of 
 laughter, and Welland underwent tortures 
 in endeavoring to keep countenance. Mr. 
 Sharp looked at her indignantly. 
 
 " Look at her," he cried, with the voice 
 of an ill-used person, "look at her, Mr. 
 
172 Differences. 
 
 Welland ! I've born her, and I've bred 
 
 her, and she is making: fun of nie !" 
 
 The laughing girl hastened away, while 
 her silvery peals inundated the air. But 
 Mr. Sharp was truly indignant. He 
 puffed, and blowed, until he coughed. And 
 when he coughed, he only puffed and 
 blowed the more. And when he had got 
 through his coughing and puffing, he was 
 in quite an alarming state, and had to be 
 assisted to a chair, where he sat with a 
 flushed countenance, and panted for 
 breath. 
 
 "Do you feel better?" asked Welland, 
 when he was in a condition to be talked to. 
 
 Mr. Sharp mournfully shook bis head. 
 
 " It wont let me alone. I can't get rid of 
 it," he said. 
 
 " What is it?" inquired Welland. 
 
 **What should it be?" returned Mr. 
 Sharp impatiently; " J^" 
 
 " Well, what is your ' it' ?" 
 
 "What is my it? Don't you see? my 
 cough. But I got around it the other 
 night. I got the better of it." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "Yes. I'll tell you how." Mr. Sharp 
 panted a little more, and then continued : 
 " I had gone to bed, and was just falling 
 asleep when it came upon me. All the 
 evening I had been up and around, and the 
 confounded thing hadn't troubled me a 
 bit ! It lay in wait, however, until I was 
 just about to close my eyes. And then, 
 curse it ! it shook me, and plagued me, and 
 
Differences. 173 
 
 took away my breath, and wouldn't leave 
 me alone until I had gotten up. But the 
 moment I sat up in my large arrn-chair, it 
 stopped. Just notice its spite! Whenever 
 I tried to lay down it pounced on me, and 
 it stopped as soon as I sat up in my chair. 
 * Devil take you !' I thought, * I'll be even 
 with you!' So I remained a long time in 
 my chair, and kept very quiet. By and 
 bye, I threw a glance all around, and noth- 
 ing stirred. So I gently extinguished the 
 lamp, and got out of the chair, very quietly, 
 and on my tiptoes, without making the 
 least noise whatever, I reached my bed. I 
 turned the cover back very softly, and 
 crept in, and covered my head. And, 
 would you believe it? It never noticed 
 that I had gotten out of the chair, but left 
 me alone all night ! What do you think of 
 that?" 
 
 Welland expressed his admiration of Mr. 
 Sharp's genius, and then asked when it 
 would be time for him to start. 
 
 •' After dinner," said Mr. Sharp. " You 
 will dine with me here, and start when the 
 moon rises. My boy Ned will go with you 
 to Kentucky; he knows the passes well. I 
 have a horse ready tor him, and have given 
 him the necessary instructions." 
 
174 Differences. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The moon had risen, and the trees stood 
 shivering in the cool night air. There was 
 a watery dimness upon the stars, and 
 their beams trembled like the glances of 
 an eye bathed in tears. Moist vapors float- 
 ed on the breeze. It was a cold, damp 
 autumn night. 
 
 Behind the garden at Pinelan-d, Ned, Mr. 
 Sharp's mulatto servant, held a couple of 
 horses. Ned was not alone ; the girl of his 
 heart bore him company. They were mak- 
 ing the most of the time remaining, and 
 their leave taking was very tender. There 
 was slobbering, to any extent, on Ned's 
 part, and responsive digs in the ribs, on 
 the part of the lady. She was of a bright 
 black color, that looked as if it had been 
 varnished. Her features were pleasing. 
 
 *' Who give you the pistols?" asked the 
 girl. " Niggers doesn't carry pistols." 
 
 " Mister Welland give me 'em. He 
 think niggers just as good as white folks." 
 
 " What a fool !" and she laughed as if it 
 were a good joke. " What for God give 
 'em black skins ?" 
 
 " You donno, girl," said Ned, sagely. 
 " They's just as smart sometimes." 
 
 " Why, aint they got niggers to wait on 
 'em then?" asked the girl. "Heigh! 
 wouldn't I make 'em fly ? Git out !" 
 
 ** I'se heard 'em say, that all the folks is 
 equal. All the niggers and all the white 
 men." 
 
Differences. 175 
 
 "J isn't equal," returned the girl. *'I 
 Avouldu't be equal with the field hands. 
 Think I'se associate with these common 
 niggers?" 
 ** Git out. Mister Welland is coming." 
 It was so. Welland and Sharp left the 
 house, and passed into the moonshine, that 
 lay upon the lawn between it and the gar- 
 den. A window, in the upper story, was 
 opened. Welland turned, and beheld An- 
 tonia. Her golden hair fell upon her 
 shoulders, and her eyes beamed upon him 
 with tender solicitude. She stood there 
 like a fairy, bathed in the rays of the moon, 
 while the yellow glare of a pine wood fire 
 made the lurid background the picture. 
 
 She held a rose in her hand. Pressing it 
 to her lips, it fluttered in the air, and fell 
 to the ground. Welland w^as at the spot in 
 an instant, and picked up, not only the 
 rose, but a soft gray silk glove, that had 
 fallen with it. Pressing them to his heart, 
 he kissed his hand to the sweet lady above. 
 For a moment, a handkerchief fluttered on 
 the breeze like a white dove, and then the 
 window was deserted. With a heavy 
 heart he turned his steps to the garden. 
 
 *' Ned knows the way," said Mr. Sharp, 
 pressing Welland's hand, " Ey to-morro<v 
 morning you will reach Taylor's farm in 
 the mountains. He is a northern man, 
 and you will be safe with him until to- 
 morrow night. Then yovi must travel on, 
 and make for the north of Kentucky." 
 " My dear friend, good bye," replied 
 
176 Differences. 
 
 Wellaiid, heartily. "I shall never forget 
 your kindness. May we meet again in 
 quieter times ! For all the friendship you 
 have shown me, may God bless you." 
 
 And thus they parted. Sharp looked 
 long after him, and then lifted his face to 
 the i>ale moon above. A flush, as of youth, 
 setMi;ed to pass over his features. His lips 
 grew red, his cheeks glowed, and his eyes 
 brightened. 
 
 " Like his mother! Like his mother!" 
 he murmured, "calm, self-possessed, good 
 and true! I thought I should have recog- 
 nized those eyes among a thousand, and 
 yet, if Hassel had not given me the particu- 
 lars of his family, I would have looked 
 upon him as a stranger to this day. Oh, 
 what glorious eyes his mother had! I 
 grow young again in thinking of thpm. 
 Little did she imagine, when the wounded 
 French soldier boy was quartered on her 
 family, that he would keep alive his love 
 for her through many years, and show it 
 at last in benefiting her son. Beautiful 
 lady," he cried, turning his blushing old 
 face up to the sky, " thou art an angel now, 
 and my love is neither a presumption, nor 
 a sin." 
 
 Meanwhile Welland trotted gaily on, 
 with Ned bringing up the rear. Ned's 
 horse bore a portmanteau containing the 
 young man's papers and instruments, to- 
 gether with some of his clothes. The rest 
 of his possessions Sharp had promised to 
 send on. Welland had also left in his 
 
Differences. 177 
 
 hands letters for the State authorities, in 
 which he resigned his position, with an ex- 
 planation of the reasons that forced him to 
 do so. 
 
 It is almost beyond belief at this time, 
 the rapid and simultaneous uprising in the 
 border States, after Lincoln's election to 
 the Presidency. In the more southern re- 
 gions of the country, the slave-holding 
 party was too universal, too dominant to 
 leap into action at once, when the result of 
 the election was announced. Not so in the 
 border States. Feelings had run high 
 there; and these were not mere feelings 
 against far distant States, but feelings 
 against your neighbor of diflerent political 
 views, and feelings against the people of 
 abolitionist opinions, living in your midst. 
 It was very natural. In the border States 
 the one part of the population had to antic- 
 ipate every sort of antagonism from the 
 other. They feared that their slaves would 
 be incited to revolt, or run off to the North. 
 They feared that the votes of the mechanics 
 in the cities, with those of the small farm- 
 ers, would, combined, form a considerable 
 power. And finally, they did not like the 
 success which generally attended the la- 
 borious and saving immigrants from the 
 North. 
 
 On the other hand, the northern settlers 
 took every opportunity to attack the pecu- 
 liar institution. They could gain wealth 
 in Tennessee, but they were socially put 
 down, and involuntarily imposed upon 
 12 
 
178 Differences. 
 
 and awed by the hereditary aristocracy of 
 the State. It was Madison Avenue against 
 Fifth Avenue. Hereditary wealth against 
 Shoddy. The man who has earned his 
 dollars, against the man who, ignorant of 
 the world's battles and struggles, has lived 
 a life of refinement and mental culture on 
 the wealth he inherited. To the one, the 
 dollars represented so much sweat and la- 
 bor, a»:d so many hard years of his life, to 
 the other, they were the means of enjoy- 
 ment, of cultivation, and of satisfying hir> 
 noble or ignoble desires— but nothing 
 more. A state of society like this, in a re- 
 public -vrhere the principles of equality find 
 oflicial recognition and social endorsement, 
 is always irritating beyond measure to the 
 self-made part of the population. Con- 
 scious of their own merits in building up a 
 fortune, they are also conscious of the 
 stains of meanness and dirt left upon their 
 hands by the process, and of the impor- 
 tant place which money will always oc- 
 cupy in every one of their calculations. 
 They bow then to classes that, having been 
 raised in the lap of great fortunes, treat 
 this great idol money in a nonchalant and 
 ohivalra'^que manner, and they hate these 
 classes for being compelled to bow before 
 them. It is the old storj^ of king Philip II 
 claiming precedence of his father, the em- 
 peror Charles V, because he was the son 
 of an emperor, while his father was but the 
 son of a king. 
 In Tennessee the liames burst out first. 
 
D I P F E R E N C K S . 179 
 
 and even at present, fierj^ coals continue to 
 glow there, under the ashes of the late re- 
 bellion. 
 
 AVelland and his guide did not remain 
 upon the highway. By lanes and paths 
 they went in a northern direction, expect- 
 ing to reach the mountain pass by means 
 of a cross road not much in use. The night 
 was dark, for the moon soon went to sleep 
 lapped in a bed of clouds, and the stars 
 were far from bright. This was an advan- 
 tage to our traveler, who would have found 
 it unpleasant to be discovered, and in the 
 company of a negro especially, as the latter 
 circumstance might have been taken as 
 evidence against him. Fortunately he did 
 not encounter any one. Through the deep 
 silence he rode, with eyes gazing bravely 
 into the future. Had he not a rose warm 
 with Antonia's kisses, and a glove fragrant 
 from the touch of her hand, to bid his lov- 
 ing heart hope? Did not the old God who 
 had conducted him safely through so many 
 ditficulties, still live? And more than all, 
 had he not a guardian angel watching over 
 him in the mother he had lost so early, and 
 of whom he never ceased to think, as if 
 her spirit were really floating in the air he 
 breathed ? 
 
 These were the thoughts which passed 
 through his mind. 
 
 "Take care Massa," said Ned, after a 
 ride of several hours, "we must ford the 
 river here. Ferry boat js further up 
 
 12* 
 
180 Differences. 
 
 stream. Massa Sharp said, not cross with 
 
 ferry boat." 
 
 •' Well Ned, do you ride in advance. Yoa 
 know the ford I suppose?" 
 
 *' Know it ? I knows every ford in Clai- 
 borne County. The water am high now, 
 and the horses will go in pretty deep." 
 
 Welland put the stirrups across his sad- 
 dle, and his legs over the horse's shoul- 
 ders. Thus, with Ned preceding, and the 
 swift, dark water rushing around him, he 
 passed over the Clinch river. 
 
 On the opposite side, the road entered a 
 dark wood of pines and cypresses, and at 
 the distance of about a half mile took an 
 abrupt turn. As thej' neared this turn, 
 the negro suddenly pulled Welland's 
 sleeve, and pointed to a bright glow above 
 the trees, in the direction toward which 
 the road led. Both halted immediately. 
 
 " Let me go and see, Massa," said Ned. 
 " I think it's a fire, and maybe its some of 
 the white folks watching for you.'' 
 
 Welland held the horse, while Ned went 
 swiftly forward to reconnoiter. Soon he 
 returned. 
 
 " Donno what people they iSc They's 
 three men with guns and packs, and they's 
 asleep on their packs. I doesn't think they 
 am of this State." 
 
 "Must we pass them on this road? Is 
 there no other path to get by ?" 
 
 "Tes, Massa, there am. But it's hard to 
 travel.'' 
 
Differences. 181 
 
 " Lead on then. I had rather avoid 
 doubttul company at present." 
 
 Ned turned back a little way, and then 
 dismounting, led his horse into the swamp. 
 The path was very narrow, and scarce per- 
 ceptible to eyes unaccustomed to swamp 
 roads. The animals had great difficulty in 
 getting through the soft, mushy ground 
 that formed it, which on either side was 
 skirted by deep, pond-like stretches of wa- 
 ter ; from these rose the enormous black 
 trunks of cypress trees, with their 
 strangely-shaped knees and excrescences 
 overhanging the dark, smooth water, and 
 their melancholy boughs shutting out 
 every glimpse of the sky. As they pro- 
 ceeded, the trees grew thicker, and the 
 path softer. The horses and men sank 
 knee deep into the mud at every step. Fi- 
 nally Welland halted. 
 
 " It is impossible to go on, Ned." 
 
 *' Jist a few steps, Massa Welland. We 
 am almost at the canal." 
 
 They continued their march with nothing- 
 hut the plashing of mud breaking the si- 
 lence, until the trees thinned out, and they 
 emerged upon a tair road, at the side of a 
 canal filled with black, stagnant water. 
 
 " This am Jericho canal," said Ned. 
 '• Now we can ride sharp for the Pass." 
 
 They gave their horses a rest, and then 
 put spurs to them. Glad to have gotten 
 upon a fair road, both animals threw up 
 their heads, and galloped along in fine 
 style. The mufiied sound of their hoofs 
 
182 »D 1 r F E R E N C E s . 
 
 was reverberated from the dense woods. 
 The night breeze lifted their nrianes, and 
 cooled the brows of the riders. Gradually 
 the trees grew thinner. Bushes and 
 swampy undergrowth supplied their 
 places. These, in turn, gave way to fields 
 of dry, hard weeds, about three feet high, 
 with a young pine tree now and then 
 breaking the monotony of their dun-col- 
 ored masses. At last there were spare bits 
 of pasture and barren rocks. The canal 
 had disappeared. The scenery on every 
 side grew bolder. At no great distance, a 
 chain of hills of considerable height arose, 
 while the horizon line was concealed by 
 the blue masses of lofty mountains. 
 
 They were compelled to moderate their 
 pace as the road gradually ascended, and 
 wound around, and between the hills. 
 Rocks of gigantic size, covered with lich- 
 ens, and streaked with the blood-red marks 
 of iron ore. frowned upon them from the 
 roadside. Kifted banks, knit together by 
 the mighty roots of the trees that crowned 
 them, overhung the way, and deep clefts 
 and precipices appeared at times to inter- 
 cept their course. 
 
 "We are now approaching the Pass, I 
 believe," said Welland. 
 
 '* Yes," replied Ned, "Taylor's house is 
 not far." 
 
 When they had ridden a mile further, 
 the negro pointed to a rocky path, which 
 led off from the main road. 
 
 " Massa Sharp," he said, " Massa Sharp 
 
D I K F K a E N C E s . 183 
 
 told me we had better go to the house by 
 the back way." 
 
 So they followed the path, which wound 
 around the body of a hill through pine 
 woods, from which it suddenly emerged 
 upon a small clearing. On this clearing 
 stood the house. 
 
 A deep voice bade them halt. 
 " What's your business with me," asked 
 the owner of the voice from one of the 
 windows, but without showing any part 
 of his person. 
 Welland set about to advance. 
 ** Stay where you are," cried the voice. 
 ^' I am well armed." 
 
 " I was not prepared for such hostile de- 
 monstrations," replied Welland. " Mr. 
 •Sharp at Pineland directed me to call here, 
 saying that you are a northern man." 
 
 " Aye, that's what I am. Of northern 
 birth and principles. But what do you 
 want with me ?" 
 Ned took the word. 
 
 " Massa Taylor, we wants to rest here 
 till night. We am traveling north. I'se 
 Mr. Sharp's boy, and sent along to show 
 the -way." 
 
 "If you are a northern man," said Wel- 
 land, *' you'll not refuse me hospitality. 
 I've been driven from Sycamore because I 
 am supposed to be an abolitionist. I shall 
 travel on to-night. But the horses need 
 rest, before they can go on." 
 
 The owner of the house appeared in the 
 doorway. 
 
184 Differ ENCKs. 
 
 " I bid you heartily welcome," he said, 
 extending a big brawny fist, and motion- 
 ing them to come near. " I don't know 
 how safe a shelter I can give yon. I've 
 sent my own family to my wife's parents 
 in Ohio, to be out of the way of trouble. 
 The mean vermints may attack me at any 
 hour, and burn my shanty. For they 
 know that I am an abolitionist." 
 
 " Why have you staid yourself?" Wel- 
 land could not help asking. 
 
 ** Well stranger," said the other, leading 
 him into a nice, clean sitting-room, and 
 putting away his rifle, while Ned took care 
 of the horses, "I, too, was about leaving. 
 But I kind of thought that if they were go- 
 ing to burn my house andfixins, and carry 
 off my furniture, I should like to see the 
 house and fixios burn as well as the rest, 
 and I sort of wanted to know who got the 
 furniture. I'd feel sure about it anyway, 
 and that's better than uncertainty." 
 
 '' After I've given you something to eat," 
 continued Taylor, ** I want the boy to help 
 me take the horses to a safe place in the 
 mountains. We may be driven out here, 
 and then we'd be hard up without horses." 
 
 In a little while, a rough repast was 
 ready, of which Taylor and his guest par- 
 took by the light of the pine wood fire, 
 upon which the host had fried the meat 
 and boiled the coffee. Ned, at a respectful 
 distance, also partook of his share. Then 
 a flask of spirits passed around the circle. 
 
 " And now, we must house the horses," 
 
Differences. 185 
 
 began Taylor; "daylight peeps over the 
 mountains." 
 
 Welland threw himself upon a couch to 
 rest. The rifle was at his side, to defend 
 the house, if necessary, in the absence of 
 the owner. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon of the same 
 day. "Welland, ready to continue his jour- 
 ney with the fall of darkness, was listening 
 to the advice of his host concerning the 
 route, when Ned rushed in upon them 
 with a frightened countenance. 
 
 "There's a lot of white men coming, 
 with guns," cried the negro, " and they've 
 got a dog with them." 
 
 "I am endangering your house," said 
 Welland to Taylor. " I shall leave it at 
 once." 
 
 " Don't go," replied the other. *' They're 
 after me as much as after you." 
 
 "What do you intend to do? How many 
 are they, Ned ?" 
 
 " About twenty, I think, and they's got 
 guns." 
 
 " Resistance is impossible," urged Wel- 
 land. " Let us get away. If we repulse 
 these, more will come." 
 
 But Taylor was immovable. 
 
 " I know I shall be driven out," he said. 
 " But I wont leave of my own free will. I 
 wouldn't feel right toward the old house, 
 if 1 was to leave it to those rascals, without 
 making a show of fight." 
 
186 Differences. 
 
 " Very well," said Welland. " We can 
 retreat at any time through the back door, 
 if we can only keep them at bay till dark. 
 Fortunately the sky is covered with clouds, 
 and there will be no moon." 
 
 " If you are going to stop with me," said 
 Taylor, " which I don't ask, you'd better 
 send the boy away to the horses, and have 
 him wait there. They've got a dog, and if 
 the boy is with us, they can trace our steps 
 easily." 
 
 " Perhaps it is best," replied Welland. 
 *'Nedgo up, and stay with the horses." 
 
 The negro obeyed with great alacrity. 
 
 "Now, look to your pistols and your 
 powderflask," said Taylor. " Have you 
 given your baggage to the boy?" 
 
 "Yes. Where are you going to post 
 yourself." 
 
 •' On this side. I have cut a hole through 
 the wall. Over there is another, through 
 which you can tire." 
 
 "Very well. But can't they attack us 
 in the rear?" 
 
 " No. There is but one path, and that I 
 have made impassable to-day. They've 
 got to take us in front." 
 
 The attacking party arrived in front of 
 the house. They were poor whites of the 
 most miserable description, but well 
 armed, and led by Hassel, who had Tour- 
 telotte's hound " Uglj^" with him. 
 
 The gambler advanced to the door and 
 knocked. There was no answer. He re- 
 peated the knock. 
 
DiFFERKNCKS. 187 
 
 "What do yoa want here?" inquired 
 Taylor. 
 
 " We want to get in." 
 
 " You can't come in." 
 
 " We'll beat the door down, if you don't 
 open," cried Hassel. " We are twenty 
 men, sent from town." 
 
 •' I don't care how many you are, nor 
 who sent you. This is my house. I am a 
 peaceful citizen, and I don't want you in 
 here." 
 
 " The cursed abolitionist is going to re- 
 sist," cried Hassel to the others. " Come 
 here some of you, and kick down this 
 door." And he began doing so himself. 
 
 A sharp report was heard, followed by 
 a shriek from the gambler, who hastily re- 
 treated. A bullet had pierced the fleshy 
 part of his arm. 
 
 The others immediately discharged their 
 pieces at the house, but without any eftect 
 whatever. Thereupon they drew back be- 
 hind a clump of pines, and held a council 
 of war. 
 
 In a little while, one of them advanced, 
 waving a white handkerchief, and said : 
 
 " Don't shoot, Mr. Taylor, we don't come 
 here to harm you." 
 
 '' What do you want of me, then ?" 
 
 " We want to search your house. We 
 are pursuing a young devil of an abolition- 
 ist, who has carried a nigger off." 
 
 " You see," whispered W^elland. *' It is 
 I that have brought this danger upon you." 
 
188 Differences. 
 
 "Nonsense," laughed Taylor. ''I'm 
 their game just as much as you." 
 
 "Well," he cried to those outside, "you 
 can't search my house, or come in. Get 
 away from my premises, for I don't want 
 any of you here." 
 
 " This will cost you dearly," cried Has- 
 sel from behind the trees. "If we have to 
 use force, you shall rue it." 
 
 " I guess you wont hang me, before 
 you've caught me," replied the other. 
 " Patience is a great virtue." 
 
 " Curse you, miserable hound," cried the 
 gambler, sending a bullet toward the 
 house, which proved as harmless as the 
 others. 
 
 The attacking narty saw that they could 
 not succeed by force, without exposing 
 themselves to the bullets of the inmates of 
 the house. They were unwilling to incur 
 this risk, and concluded to watch the 
 dwelling on every side, and wait for night, 
 in order to approach it under cover of 
 darkness. Withdrawing from the immedi- 
 ate grounds, and entering the woods, they 
 scattered in various directions. Each was 
 to approach from a dififerent side. At the 
 same time some employed themselves m 
 gathering pieces from the decayed trunks 
 of the pitch pine. These were for the pur- 
 pose of setting tire to the house, if other 
 means of gaining possession failed. Has- 
 sel directed the movements of the rest, and 
 he purposed to carry on a regular siege. 
 The pain of bis wound increased a thou- 
 
D I F F E R K N C K S . 189 
 
 sandfold the ill feeling he bore Welland. 
 He vowed to himself that he would have 
 the other's life, to get rid of his airs of su- 
 periority. " The world is not wide enough 
 to hold us both," he murmured. " One of 
 us must go. As for the next world, if 
 there is one, we are not in danger of meet- 
 ing." His bitter laugh betrayed the deso- 
 lation of his heart. 
 
 Meanwhile, the besieged party was not 
 very comfortable. The total cessation of 
 hostilities on part of the others, showed 
 them but too clearly that a plan of attack 
 had been adopted, v/hich was to be carried 
 out under cover of darkness. 
 
 *' We must abandon the house as soon as 
 it is dark enough," said Welland, **or we 
 are lost. Are all the shutters on the ground 
 floor well secured ?" 
 
 *' They are. I don't fear the vermints. 
 We can keep them off for a while yet." 
 
 Night fell. With it, and just before the 
 two were about to slip out of the [house by 
 the cellar door, they noticed the cautious 
 approach of the others. Creeping over the 
 ground, they came from all sides. Each 
 carried a fagot of pitch pine and his gun. 
 Slowly the two got back, mounted to the 
 upper story, and prepared to defend them- 
 selves. Welland opened one shutter in the 
 rear, and discharged three of the barrels of 
 his revolver at as many of the assailants. 
 Two were wounded, and withdrew into the 
 woods. But the third darted forward, and 
 gained a position under the stoop, from 
 
190 Differences. 
 
 which it was impossible to dislodge bim. 
 In the meanwhile, Mr. Taylor had not been 
 idle. Those that approached in front were 
 repulsed by the quick succession of shots 
 with which he saluted them. One was 
 wounded. The others would have lost 
 their courage, but for Hassel. He proposed 
 that they should light the pitch pine and 
 throw it upon the roof, from the nearest 
 point of cover. But each refused to make 
 a mark of himself by showing a light. 
 Just then a bright blaze shone out in the 
 rear of the house. The man that gained a 
 cover under the back stoop, had lighted 
 his fagot and set fire to the building. The 
 dry stoop blazed up with the rapidity of 
 tinder, and illumined the woods and hills 
 far and near. With a cry of exultation, 
 ihe whole partj' hastened to that side, leav- 
 ing Hassel alone to keep watch on the 
 front door. 
 
 " Now is our time," said Welland. "We 
 must get out by the front door." 
 
 "Wait a moment," replied Taylor. 
 ** First of all, we must draw their fire." 
 
 He opened a shutter with great caution, 
 and having placed his hat upon a stick, 
 slowly protruded it from the window. It 
 was on that side where the stoop was burn- 
 ing, and where the majority of the besiegers 
 were assembled. They heard the creak of 
 the shutter, and no sooner did the hat ap- 
 pear before their eager eyes, than every 
 gun in the party was discharged at it. 
 With a doleful groan, Taylor dropped the 
 
Differences. 191 
 
 stick, and seizing his hat, whispered 
 sharplj' : 
 
 "Follow me, and don't fire, on any ac- 
 count." 
 
 They ran out by the front door, and with 
 noiseless leaps, sought to gain the shelter 
 of the woods. Suddenly Hassel arose be- 
 fore them with leveled gun. Bis eye was 
 blazing with fury, but the M^ounded arm 
 refused to obey the mandates of his wall, 
 and the gun shook unsteadily in his hands. 
 Without pausing, Taylor knocked him 
 down, and did it with a strength and en- 
 ergy that rendered the gambler senseless. 
 Escaping further observation, they got 
 among the pines.. 
 
 "Now after me," said Taylor. "We 
 must make for the Spanish Saddle. If we 
 can reach that before they pursue us, we 
 are safe." 
 
 They hurried through the woods, first 
 circumventing the house, then following a 
 direction which led in a straight line away 
 from the burning stoop. Soon they 
 emerged upon a path that was illuminated 
 by flashes from the flaming house. It led 
 steeply upward, and then around the brow 
 of a hill, which seemed but the stepping 
 stone to a higher hill beyond. They turned 
 simultaneously. The house stood in full 
 blaze, but thoy vainly tried to make out 
 the forms of their antagonists. 
 
 " They are probably on the other side, or 
 among the pine trees," observed Taylor. 
 " Let us hurrv forward." 
 
192 Differences. 
 
 They bounded over the path. It was 
 rough and stony. At times it seemed to 
 disappear altogether. At others it led 
 along precipices. Springs crossed it. And 
 formidable rocks had to be scrambled 
 over. At last they came upon a broad 
 road. 
 
 " This is the Pass," said Taj'lor, wiping 
 the sweat from his brow, with a relieved 
 look, " and yonder is the Spanish Saddle." 
 
 A little walk brought them to the spot in- 
 dicated. It was a passage between two 
 rocks, about three feet wide, and narrowed 
 still more by masses of creepers and un- 
 dergrowth. The rocks, on either side, 
 were thought to look like the high pom- 
 mels of a Spanish saddle, while the passage 
 itself not inaptly represented the seat. On 
 both sides of these rocky projections were 
 deep declivities, that skirted the road on to 
 the north for some distance, and even ex- 
 tended for a few feet on the hither side. 
 The approach from the south was through 
 a narrow, rocky defile, the highest point of 
 which was the "'Saddle." The path, 
 whereupon Taylor and Welland had come, 
 followed the course of a rivulet down the 
 precipitous side of this detile, and struck 
 the main road that ran through it, not far 
 from the Saddle. For over three quarters 
 of a mile the road ascended steeply, and 
 for nearly all that distance it was com- 
 manded by this rocky passage. A better 
 military position, for a few to hold against 
 numbers, could not be conceived. Wei- 
 
Differences, 193 
 
 land appreciated its merits in a moment. 
 
 " We are safe here," he said. 
 
 ♦' Now," spoke Taylor, after a short 
 rest, "I will go for the horses. You've 
 got a couple of revolvers, and you must 
 hold the Saddle against tbem. They can't 
 get at you except by the road, for the preci- 
 pices extend beyond the Saddle, The 
 sides of the defile are not high enough 
 to shoot at you from that point. So there 
 is no possibility of taking your position, if 
 you are watchful." 
 
 ** Depend on me," said Welland. 
 
 Both passed over the Saddle. Welland 
 to take up his position of defense behind 
 one of the pommels, and Taylor to strike 
 into the woods, below and bej-ond, to get 
 the horses. 
 
 Their own hurry, and the noise of the 
 woods and rivulets, had until now made 
 them inattentive to sounds of pursuit. But 
 as Welland sat down, keeping his eye 
 steady upon the road, it seemed to him as 
 if the tone of a deep, hoarse bark was 
 borne upon the breeze. It arose, a>t inter- 
 vals, above the plashing of the neighbor- 
 ing springs. It seemed to «ome nearer, 
 and there was little doubt of the fact that a 
 bloodhound was upon their track. 
 
 The young man kept his pistols ready. 
 But it was very dark, especially in this 
 rocky defile. He strained his eyes to the 
 utmost, as he heard the gradual approach 
 of the noise, but could perceive nothing 
 that would oflfer a mark for his pistols. 
 13 
 
194 Differences. 
 
 There was an interval of sereral minutes, 
 in which the silence was unbroken. Then 
 a swift rush, and, with a short sharp bark, 
 the hound was upon him. The attack was 
 so sudden, that, bent forward as he had 
 been, it bore him to the ground. In the 
 fall he lost his pistol ; he felt the hound's 
 breath on his cheek, saw his eyes burn, 
 and the white gleam of his teeth, as he 
 prepared to seize and throttle him. It was 
 but a moment. At such times, however, 
 ideas rush through the brain with remark- 
 able swiftness. Welland recollected at 
 this instant some story of his childhood, 
 that he had not thought of for years, and 
 in which a king of England, unarmed, is 
 attacked by a lion. The royal hero, quickly 
 resolved, thrust his gauntleted tist deep 
 down between the jaws ot the monster, and 
 embracing him with the other arm, held 
 him thus, until an opportune courtier 
 rushed up and killed him. Like lightning, 
 Welland's own list, with the stout buck- 
 skin glove upon it, flew into the jaws of 
 the hound and down his throat, while his 
 other arm pressed the struggling form to 
 his panting bosom. It was a fierce com- 
 bat. The hound was very powerful, but 
 Welland had been a Turyier^ and practiced 
 gymnastic games ever since his childhood. 
 This came him in good stead. The animal, 
 which felt itself choking, bounded from 
 the ground, in its endeavors to shake off 
 the adversary, and with its sharp nails 
 tore through his clothes deep rents into the 
 
Differences. 195 
 
 flesh. But of the teeth that guarded the 
 powerful jaws, it could make no use. 
 Thus, with the bloodhound's head pressed 
 close to his own, with its strong heart 
 beating in mighty thumps against his 
 breast, and with his arm locked closely 
 around its writhing body, Welland passed 
 a minute and a half, that seemed a century. 
 He felt himself grow dizzy. His senses 
 were slowly taking leave, while the strug- 
 gles of the hound grew more frantic. A 
 few more seconds, and his muscles must 
 relax ; the fierce beast would lock its teeth 
 in his throat. He was lost. At that mo- 
 ment his tleeting consciousness was recalled 
 by the report of a rifle. The hound escaped 
 from his arms with a mighty bound, and 
 fell dead into the abyss at the side of the 
 road. Welland was seized bv the friendly 
 arms of Ned and borne to a spring, where 
 a little water dashed into his face, soon re- 
 called him to a remembrance of the dan- 
 gers overcome, and of those still threaten- 
 ing. 
 
 " Let us mount," be cried, *' and away !" 
 They helped him to mount his horse, and 
 his eagerness was such that be forgot the 
 hurts he had received. Nor was there time 
 for deh^^ The pursuers had not been far 
 behind tiie dog, and the sound of the gun 
 called them to the spot. But too late. Our 
 friends had a good start, and their horses 
 soon carried them beyond the reach of dan- 
 ger. Next morning, Welland was housed 
 in a good, old fashioned Kentucky tavern, 
 
196 Differences. 
 
 where Taylor dressed his wounds himself, 
 to avoid suspicion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 By slow stages our hero crossed Ken- 
 tucky, and arrived at Cincinnati. Ned 
 insisted upon following him. He main- 
 tained that this was in accordance with 
 Mr. Sharp's orders. Once at Cincinnati, 
 Welland called the negro to him, and said: 
 
 "Now Ned, we must part. I will give 
 you letters to Mr. Sharp and the family at 
 Pineland, and you can return whenever 
 you are ready." 
 
 " Donno about that, sir !" replied Ned. 
 " I wants to go north, aud Massa Sharp 
 give me this jjaper for you to let mo go 
 with you." And he drew it from his 
 pocket, and laid it on the table. 
 
 Welland glanced at it. It was a permis- 
 sion for the negro boy Edward to go north, 
 and earn his living there as he best could. 
 Inclosed was a note to Welland, stating, 
 that under present circumstances, it w^as 
 not advisable to procure liberation papers 
 for the boy, but that they would be for- 
 warded to him before long. In the mean- 
 while, he might prove a good servant to 
 Welland, whom he requested to take care 
 of him. 
 
 *' Very well," said Welland. "You can 
 come with me, Ned, though I did not dreana 
 that our connection would be permanent. 
 So you want to go north." 
 
Differences. 197 
 
 *' Yes sir. Will you let me bo your ser- 
 vant?" 
 
 " I don't know, my boy, that I will be 
 able to afford a servant, or that such will 
 be the most advantageous position for you. 
 We will see, when we get to New York." 
 
 *' Very well, sir. When do we travel ?" 
 
 ** This evening." 
 
 Welland descended to the table, and was 
 soon busy eating his soup. When he had 
 finished, he raised his eyes and took a sur- 
 vey of his company. With pleasant sur- 
 prise, he recognized in his vis-a-vis, Keiche- 
 nau, the Memphis merchant. That old 
 gentleman glanced up at the same time, 
 and smiled atfably, as he in turn recognized 
 Welland. In a moment, they were deep in 
 conversation. Their mutual experiences 
 since their last meeting, the precarious 
 state of the country, and the objects of 
 their present journey, furnished ample 
 food for discussion. 
 
 " I shall not return to Memphis until the 
 present excitement has subsided," said 
 Reichenau. " I am abandoning great com- 
 mercial interests there, but as I look for an 
 eventual state of quiet, I do not count them 
 lost. These border States are at present no 
 place for a northern man to abide in." 
 
 '* That has been my experience," replied 
 Welland. *' So I return to New York, 
 though without a definite idea of finding 
 any suitable employment there." 
 
 " Would you accept a position in a mer- 
 cantile establishment on a large scale?" 
 
198 DiFFKRENCES. 
 
 inquired the other. *' I might be instru- 
 mental in procuring you one." 
 
 "That depends much upon the position 
 itself," replied Wellund. " Thanks lor 
 your kind intentions." 
 
 They did not part again. The more they 
 conversed, the more did Reichenau like 
 Welland. He invited him to defer his 
 journey till next morning, and then both 
 traveled together to the metropolis. Usu- 
 ally it is difficult for people who travel for 
 thirty-six hours together, not to grow 
 heartily tired of each other. They ex- 
 change the general idea?, which each keeps 
 ready like small coin for casual expendi- 
 tures, and then hesitate to draw upon their 
 deeper inner nature in behalf of acquaint- 
 ances, that may eease to be such, with the 
 ■end of the journey. Xot so with Wellaud 
 and Reichenau. Thej^ were both strong, 
 though quiet characters, and having taken 
 a mutual liking, did not hesitate to put 
 forth the salient points of their natures. 
 The contrast could not be but entertaining. 
 On the one hand, the highly educated gen- 
 tleman, the University man, with the re- 
 ined sensibilities of the German literary 
 aristocracy, and yet with no end of respect 
 for practical men and views. On the other, 
 the man of business, successful in practical 
 life, with a good general training, and a 
 heart that bowed in admiration before the 
 sciences and arts, and those who repre- 
 sented them ; and moreover, with a secret 
 conviction, that he would have excelled in 
 
Differences. 199 
 
 them, had he studied, instead of following 
 mercantile pursuits, and on this account 
 looking with a half-regretful glance at the 
 vast fortuue he had succeeded in accumu- 
 lating. 
 
 When they neared the great city, Reiche- 
 nau, affectionately placing his hand on 
 Welland's shoulder, said : 
 
 •* You must be my guest, sir! Doi^'t 
 open your lips to refuse me, for I will not 
 take a reiusal." 
 
 " This is very kind, Mr. Reichenau. But 
 if our acquaintance is not too short for you 
 to invite me, it is too short for me to accept. 
 Beside," he added, smiling, " I have an 
 encumbrance in Ned." 
 
 "Your servant. He must come along, 
 of course. Don't say another word about 
 it, but permit me to look upon the matter 
 as settled. If you have any objections to 
 urge, let me hear them a week from now." 
 
 ** As you insist, I will accept your invi- 
 tation for a week ; no longer. Do not for- 
 get sir, that I am of moderate means look- 
 ing for employment, and might not prove 
 acceptable to persons in your circle. As 
 for yourself, I do you the justice to hold 
 you exempt from such prejudices." 
 
 *' And you do me but justice. I insist on 
 seeing men of mind and cultivation at my 
 house, because they impart to me of their 
 ideas and learning, which I am eager for. 
 I don't care for seeing people that have no 
 merit but that of being rich, because I don't 
 
200 Differences. 
 
 want to borrow their money. Thanks for 
 
 your acquiescence." 
 
 So, when they reached town, they en- 
 tered a carriage, and drove to Reichenau's 
 mansion. That kind old gentleman imme- 
 diately saw AVelland bestowed in a pretty 
 little bed-room, saying : 
 
 " You must be content with small spaces 
 and little rooms, my dear sir. House lots 
 are narrow on Fifth Avenue." 
 
 " I can get all my baggage in," laugh- 
 ingly replied TVelland, pointing to the 
 portmanteau which Ned had brought up, 
 and which contained all he had with him. 
 
 "Thanks to your Tennessee friends, I 
 suppose," rejoined Mr. Reichenau, and 
 with a caution about dinner, which would 
 soon be announced, he hastened to his own 
 room. 
 
 Welland at onee proceeded to dress, as 
 well as his limited wardrobe permitted 
 him. He hoped that Sharp had sent the 
 rest of his baggage, for, thought he, I will 
 need all my finery while staying here. At 
 the same time he did not, under the cir- 
 cumstances, feel the least embarrassment 
 on account of the shortcomings of his 
 wardrobe. Full dress was an impossibil- 
 ity, and he made the best of what was at 
 his command. While dressing, he took a 
 rapid survey of his position. His sojourn 
 in Tennessee had not been profitable in a 
 pecuniary point of view. He had expended 
 as much as his salary amounted to, and 
 
DiFFERENCKS. 201 
 
 the price of the horse, which he had sold 
 at Cincinnati, was perhaps all the money 
 he brought away from his earnings in that 
 State. The sum which he had saved from 
 the wreck of his inheritance, and had taken 
 with him to the United States, together 
 with scraps of his fortune that were in the 
 hands of friends and had been remitted af- 
 terwards, he had kept untouched, and at 
 this time they amounted to a fair compe- 
 tence for a man of moderate views. But 
 not for Welland. Without being extrava- 
 gant, he adhered to the luxurious habits of 
 the class he had belonged to in the old 
 world, and to sacrifice one of the elegan- 
 cies of life, or give up a reasonable wish 
 becaure it involved expense, was a thought 
 that he could not bear. With these views, 
 it was surprising that he had gotten along, 
 and not touched his capital. Still, his in- 
 come had always been considerable, and 
 his work, by occupying time, had also 
 limited expenditure. 
 
 Xow he was again in New York, and 
 perhaps with the caprice of his class and 
 age, rather unwilling to return to former 
 employments. At the same time his pride 
 revolted against taking advantage of Mr. 
 Reichenau's kindness, and it needed all the 
 suavity of the old gentleman, and his own 
 liking for him, to smooth the ruffled 
 plumes of that cardinal sin. But having 
 once accepted his hospitality, he accepted 
 it wholly with the grace and bonhommie of 
 a gentleman. 
 
202 Differences. 
 
 At last he was ready. Vest and panta- 
 loons of delicate gray, with a silk tie of the 
 same color, and a black matinee coat. His 
 magnificent hair fell in clusters of curls 
 around the open brow, and his dark eyes 
 shone all the more brightly, for the kiss be 
 imprinted on the little book Antonia had 
 given him. Ned, who was in attendance, 
 received an exalted idea of his master's 
 piety from this action, for he supposed the 
 little book to be a bible, as a matter of 
 course. The negro was in high glee over 
 the sights he had seen during their transit 
 from the depot, and he was ready to aban- 
 don Tennessee for good, on condition of be- 
 ing permitted to stay in New York. 
 
 When Welland descended, he found the 
 family already assembled in the parlor. 
 Mr. Reichenau led him to aunt Margaret, 
 and introduced him with a flattering re- 
 mark, at the same time giving expression 
 to the hope that he would remain their 
 guest *pr some time. Then he presented 
 him to his daughter. Emma Reichenau 
 arose, and curtsied. Welland bowed, and 
 remained standing before the young lady, 
 lost in admiration of her dazzling beauty. 
 She was dressed in black lace, and her 
 throat of antique magnificence, rose from 
 the dark soft dress, like the form of a swan 
 from the blue surface of the water. The 
 glory of her eyes was transcendant, and 
 the full red lips seemed to throb with the 
 warm life of her young being. There was 
 an atmosphere fraught with electric 
 
Differences. 203 
 
 warmth, a sphere of iutoxicating perfume 
 around her, which could not fail to exert 
 its influence on so sensitive and poetic a 
 nature as that of Welland. He sank upon 
 the sofa at her side, and inhaled with lull 
 breaths, all the charm of her neighborhood. 
 Her prattle, which was of infantile grace, 
 served but to increase the magnetic effect 
 of her beauty. 
 
 »* Since you have been in Tennessee, will 
 you tell me what keeps papa there, most of 
 the time? Are the attractions so great 
 that we can not counteract them here?" 
 asked the young lady. 
 
 *' I do not think Mr. Reichenau intends 
 to return at present," replied Welland, 
 vainly seeking to collect his thoughts. 
 
 " Thank you for the news. I shall be so 
 glad to have him here. Yes," she added, 
 reflectingly, " but for one thing." 
 
 "And that is? if I may be allowed to 
 ask—" 
 
 "That I must play classic music to him. 
 Isn't that a bore?" 
 
 Welland lauiihed. "While I have the 
 honor of being your guest," he said, " I 
 shall be glad to relieve you." 
 
 "Do you like to play classic music?" 
 cried Emma, with astonishment. "What 
 fun ! He will make you play Beethoven, 
 and even Gluck, who has no tunes at all.'' 
 "It is true," replied the young man, 
 " Gluck has no tunes. But he has all the 
 more music." 
 " Please don't speak in riddle. You don't 
 
204 D 1 F F E K E N C E S . 
 
 look like a professor, and you shouldn't 
 speak like one; I am very shallow, and 
 couldn't understand you." 
 
 ** WeJl, I will try to explain. You have 
 heard of the troubadours ?" 
 
 •' I have even seen the picture ot one. A 
 beautiful youth with a cap full of plumes, 
 a slashed jacket, and a harp in Jiis hand. 
 He had a black moustache." 
 
 •' You know that they were poets and 
 minstrels. When they were inspired by 
 the beauty of a lady, or the valor of a 
 knight, or a noble action, they composed 
 verses, and declaimed them to the accom- 
 paniment of the harp or lute. Whenever 
 their poetiy demanded song, they would 
 burst forth into a melod> suitable to the 
 meaning of their words. That was the be- 
 ginning of music." 
 
 " How could they ever do it without 
 preparation?" 
 
 "I do not say that they did it without 
 preparation. All music is an amplification 
 of this first principle, and has for its pur- 
 pose a better expression of the sense than 
 language can convey. Gluck's music is 
 composed in accordance with this inter- 
 pretation, and is therefore declamatory 
 song, nothing more." 
 
 '• Do vou think I am wise enough to un- 
 derstand all this?" asked Emma, with a 
 charming smile. 
 
 " Why not, if you try ? Your appearance 
 would be well calculated to inspire a min- 
 strel, why should you not try to under- 
 
Differences. 205 
 
 stand their manner of expressing admira- 
 tion?" 
 
 "If you are resolved to teach me in so 
 pleasant a style, I must needs become 
 learned. But, in fact, I am a light minded 
 girl, with my thoughts on balls, dresses, 
 and amusements. I care more for the 
 fashions than for the arts and sciences, and 
 I believe that I am too stupid to under- 
 stand the latter." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by 
 the call to dinner. During the meal, Wel- 
 land was engaged in a discussion with Mr, 
 Reichenau, of pictures in European galle- 
 ries. More than once, as his voice rose in 
 enthusiastic description and his face 
 glowed, were Emma's brilliant orbs fast- 
 ened upon his speaking countenance. 
 When dinner was over, they found Mr. 
 Charles Goldman in the parlor. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 During dinner, Welland had been in a 
 state of exaltation, caused by the extraor- 
 dinary beauty of Emma Reichenau. He 
 was like one walking in rich tropical 
 woods, listening to the strange, passionate 
 song of unknown birds, and inhaling pow- 
 erful perfumes. Every nerve in his body 
 was tingling with excitement, everj' artery 
 beat higher. This sort of magnetic state 
 seemed to re-act on the person who had 
 caused it. Never had Emma's eyes shone 
 
206 DIFFERE^'CES. 
 
 with greater luster, never bad her face ex- 
 hibited a more radiant look. Never had 
 that peculiar intoxicating influence which 
 surrounded her, been more subtle and per- 
 vading. 
 
 When they beheld Charles Goldman, it 
 had on both the effect v.hich the breaking 
 of an electric chain produces on those 
 forming it. They became conscious of a 
 sensation that resembled a fracture. Wel- 
 land felt as if a cool breeze had sprung up, 
 and kissed his brow. It seemed as if the 
 fresh airs of morning, the brightness of 
 dew drops, the early light of the sun had 
 come, and dispelled at once the influences 
 that held his soul captive. Emma, on her 
 side, grew pale, and the peculiar bright- 
 ness of her glance was dimmed. With 
 hesitating coldness, she introduced Mr. 
 Goldman to Welland, vrho greeted him 
 with cordial words. 
 ! But Charles Goldman was irresponsive. 
 
 He felt in his own soul the shock, with 
 ' which he had broken in upon their magne- 
 
 tic circle. He stammered some words in 
 reply to Welland's civilities, and then 
 plunged into a conversation with Mr. 
 Reichenau, on politicHl afljiirs in Tennes- 
 see. Aunt Margaret sat placidly attentive 
 I to the needlework she was engaged in, and 
 
 I nothing remained for Welland but to re- 
 
 j sunie his seat at the side of Emma. He did 
 
 I so with reluctance, and yet with pleasure. 
 
 I " What effects different persons have 
 
 j upon us," he said to Emma. "Some at- 
 
Differences. 207 
 
 tract us powerfully, others repulse us, and 
 we are not able to account for either feel- 
 ing, except by the involuntary impression 
 of our soul? Have you not been affected 
 thus?" 
 
 *• Often," replied Emma. " But aunt has 
 always laughed at me. She never likes or 
 dislikes anybody but for good reasons." 
 
 **Itis only natures delicately strung 
 that are affected by the contact with oth- 
 ers differently constituted. The Aeolean 
 harp vibrates to the sigh of every breeze." 
 " But is not our plain sense as good a 
 guide in the judgment of persons, as a feel- 
 ing or pre-disposition we can give no rea- 
 son for?" 
 
 "Some say not. Our sense frequently 
 errs. The impulses of our inner nature 
 rarely." 
 
 " But is it not awful, if we are to be 
 judged by some intuitive impulses, instead 
 of our works ? We would sutler for all the 
 wickedness we might be capable of, at the 
 same time that we had never actually been 
 able to make up our mind to commit a sin- 
 gle sin." 
 
 " True. Perhaps we should not allow 
 those feelings to prompt our decisions un- 
 less supported by other evidence. Now 
 you affect me strangely." 
 
 •' Do I ? How ? Do you feel prompted to 
 hate me ?" 
 
 " On the contrary. I feel strongly at- 
 tracted to you." 
 
208 Differences. 
 
 "That is strange. I also feel drawn to- 
 ward you." 
 
 Emma stopped. Her form was again 
 throbbing with the pulses of an excess of 
 vitality ; her eyes were again a-glow with 
 magnetic fire, and her lips burned with a 
 scarlet, that seemed to emit rays. Welland 
 had leir, for some time, warm currents 
 steal <i\ er him, like perfumed serpents, and 
 fold their glittering coils around his better, 
 purer nature. He breathed as in an atmos- 
 phere of musk, and strange noises, like the 
 songs of unknown birds, were ringing in 
 his ears. For the second time ii was 
 Charlos Goldman that broke the spell. 
 
 ** You have been in the neighborhood of 
 my home," said the young man. "Can 
 you tfU me any thing of my family, Mr. 
 Welland ?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied the other. *' I have 
 been the guest of you r parents many times, 
 and I passed my last days in Tennessee at 
 Pineland." 
 
 "Indeed! If I am not interrupting a 
 pleasant discussion, pray let me ask you 
 to relate all you can recollect of my family. 
 I have been so long from home." 
 
 " I will give Mr. Welland up to you," 
 said Emma. " You can compare notelj, 
 while I talk to papa." 
 
 The two young men began to converse. 
 With great surprise, Charles Goldman 
 heard of Welland's adventures in hiss na- 
 tive county, and of his manner of leaving 
 it. It was evident that he had not the least 
 
Differences. 209 
 
 suspicion of the latter's intimate relations 
 witli his own family; nor did Welland at- 
 tempt to enlighten him, as a task of that 
 sort is alwa3's embarrassing to the last de- 
 gree. The other, however, finding his new 
 acquaintance so familiar with persons and 
 places in Claiborne County, hesitated not 
 to inquire : 
 
 " Did you see much of Frank Tourte- 
 lotte?" 
 
 " Yes. "We were friends." 
 
 *' Isn't he the beau ideal of a gentleman? 
 Or rather, of a knight ? There is nothing 
 he will not attempt, be it ever so difficult, 
 nothing he will not resign, be it ever so 
 precious. His bravery and generosity 
 know no bounds. It always seems to me 
 as if the knights errant must have been of 
 his mettle." 
 
 ** I agree with you in admiring the many 
 fine qualities of Mr. Tourtelotte," said 
 Welland, coldly; "but I don't think I 
 should choose him as a representative of 
 the knightly character." 
 
 " And why not, if I may be allowed to 
 ask?" 
 
 " Because a life of labor and high accom- 
 plishments, a heart and conduct of child- 
 like purity, an entire devotion to some 
 great object, distinguish that character. 
 These, Mr. Goldman, I could not find in 
 our friend." 
 
 "You are too severe, or rather," he 
 added, with a charming smile, " I am pre- 
 
 14 
 
210 Differences. 
 
 possessed in Mr. Tourtelotte's favor. You 
 can well imagine the reason why?" 
 
 " I confess my ignorance. He is a bril- 
 liant, brave gentleman, of cultivated mind 
 and manners, and honorable disposition. 
 These may be enougk, I grant, to prepos- 
 sess any one." 
 
 " You have not heard the rumor then?" 
 asked Charles Goldman. 
 
 " I do not know to what you refer." 
 
 " I may as well tell you. There has been 
 a sort of intimacy between Mr. Tourtelotte 
 and my sister for years; in fact since she 
 has been a child. The family have always 
 looked upon this affair with favor, and be- 
 fore long I hope to call that gentleman my 
 brother." 
 
 Welland could find no words to reply. It 
 seemed as if a blur had come over his vis- 
 ion, and he could not see distinctly the 
 graceful form with light waving hair and 
 blue eyes that sat before him. 
 
 " You seem surprised at what I tell you," 
 continued Charles Goldman. " Is this so 
 strange a match then in your consideration? 
 I always heard that they were well suited." 
 
 " Excuse me if I showed surprise. I felt 
 none. On the contrary, I was aware of 
 Mr. Tourtelotte's hopes and plans." 
 
 "Ah! Did he ever speak to you of his 
 regard for my sister? You must have 
 been very intimate." 
 
 *' We were. Pray, Mr. Goldman, do you 
 intend to remain in New York this winter, 
 
Differences. 211 
 
 notwithstanding the troubles in the 
 South?" 
 
 " I certainly do," replied Charles, with a 
 glance at Emma, that said plainer than 
 words : If any one hoped that I might de- 
 part and 16ave the field in his possession, 
 that one will be disappointed. 
 
 " My father has many interests in the 
 North that require to be looked to, and if 
 there is trouble at home, they will need 
 my attention here all the more," he added, 
 turning to Welland. " I am at the Fifth 
 Avenue hotel. Will you not do me the 
 honor to call on me, and permit me to im- 
 prove my acquaintance with one who 
 seems to be looked upon as a friend at 
 Pineland?" 
 
 " I shall be very happy to do so," replied 
 Welland, anxious to establish friendly re- 
 lations with Antonia's brother. " What 
 time will suit you best ?" 
 
 " Come and dine with me to-morrow." 
 
 " JSTot yet, if you please. I am at present 
 Mr. Reichenau's guest, and it would not be 
 polite to dine out." 
 
 "What? You are Mr. Reichenau's 
 guest? Doj'oumeanto say that you live 
 here?" 
 
 " Certainly, for the present. My friend," 
 indicating the host with a wave of his 
 hand, " insisted upon it." 
 
 Charles gazed at him with flashing eyes, 
 and then heaved a deep, bitter sigh. It 
 was evident that he was on the way to be- 
 come jealous. 
 
212 Differences. 
 
 '* If you -will be at home to-morrow even- 
 ing," Welland continued, **I shall be 
 happy to call. Believe me, I desire much 
 a better acquaintance with you," and he 
 looked at him with his quiet, trustful, hon- 
 est dark eyes. Charles, who had at first 
 cast about to find an excuse for not accept- 
 ing this visit, could not but yield to the 
 impression which the other's genial face 
 made upon him. 
 
 " Come," he said, " and I will call you 
 heartily welcome." 
 
 " Will either of you gentlemen turn the 
 leaves for Miss Reichenau?" asked the 
 merchant, as the young lady sat down at 
 the piano. 
 
 Both leaped up. But Welland resumed 
 his seat again, leaving to Charles the cov- 
 eted task. The latter bent over the piano, 
 and seemed eager to inhale every breath 
 that came from Emma's lips. But the girl 
 looked disappointed, and played in a list- 
 less manner, not acknowledging her cava- 
 lier's glances of passion by a single smile, 
 and scarce showing that she was aware of 
 his presence. This, in turn, nettled him. 
 With a haughty and bitter accent, he in- 
 vited Mr. Welland to take his place, as an 
 engagement called him away ; and took 
 his leave abruptly. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Reichenau, "New 
 York society has not improved this young 
 gentleman's manners." 
 
 " Why, brother ?" remonstrated aunt 
 Margaret, *'he certainlypossesses the most 
 
DiFFEKENCES. 213 
 
 suave and finished manners in oar circle. 
 Perhaps he was not quite well to-night. I 
 never saw him act so abruptly." 
 
 The others were silent. They understood 
 the reason of Charles' departure. And 
 now Welland requested Emma to sing. 
 
 ** What songs do you prefer?" inquired 
 the young lady. 
 
 " I will be ruled by Mr. Reichenau's 
 taste. From what you have told me, I am 
 sure that it is excellent." 
 
 *' Let us have old ballads, then. Some- 
 thing English." 
 "I have just the thing j'-ou will like." 
 After a simple prelude, she began that 
 touching song of " Allan Percy" : 
 '* She was a beauteous lady, richly drest, 
 And 'round her neck were pearls and jewels rare ; 
 A velvet mantle decked her !>nowy breast—" 
 and so on, breathing the "Lullaby," as 
 tenderly and softly as the butterfly's kiss 
 on the rose. 
 
 ** This is the first time I have heard you 
 sing not only with expression, but with a 
 deep understanding of the music," re- 
 marked Mr. Reichenau. " You have im- 
 proved wonderfully, Emma." 
 
 The young lady looked up at Welland 
 with a glance, that told him how much she 
 attributed Iier success to his presence. 
 Slowly the magic influence of those eyes 
 drew enchanted circles around him, and 
 strange pleasures filled his bosom. The 
 wild intoxicating fumes rose to his brain, 
 and his eyes glowed in turn, not with the 
 quiet, gentle radiance usual to them, but 
 with weird fires. 
 
214 Differences. 
 
 Presently it was his turn to sing. With 
 a brilliant accompaniment, he burst into 
 an Italian love song, so warm, so throbbing 
 with the agony of overpowering passion, 
 that even aunt Margaret looked up, with 
 calm surprise upon her placid features. 
 
 " Though you have praised my taste Mr. 
 Welland," said the merchant, smiling, "I 
 can not praise yours in the choice of songs. 
 In fact, I should have supposed so brilliant 
 and extravagant a composition as the one 
 you have just rendered, to be wholly at va- 
 riance with every inclination of your na- 
 ture. Perhaps j^ou have only given it to 
 us as a sample of what this false and super- 
 sentimental age can produce ?" 
 
 Welland replied, covered with blushes: 
 
 '* I have given it in good faith, though I 
 like neither the composer nor the composi- 
 tion. One linds, at times, however, that 
 moods are possible, when music or litera- 
 ture, that have seemed untrue to nature or 
 ridiculously extravagant before, truly ex- 
 jjress the emotions of the moment." 
 
 ** You mean to say that there are feelings 
 which Verdi is better able to express than 
 Beethoven? Xo doubt. But those feelings 
 should be placed in the same rank with 
 the music that expresses them. Under 
 lock and kej'." 
 
 Welland blushed still more. But Emma 
 was glorious in the brilliancy of her beauty. 
 She even astonished her father, who 
 thought to himself: "I have never seen 
 any thing more beautiful in my life." 
 
Differences. 215 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 What a queer character !" said Welland 
 to himself, as comfortably tucked up in 
 bed, he thought over the events of the eve- 
 ning. " Iwas perfectly helpless before the 
 magic of her beauty. And yet, no sooner 
 had she turned her eyes awaj^, and I had 
 escaped from her immediate neighbor- 
 hood, than all the effect vanished, and 
 I was even inclined to struggle against her 
 influence. There is a magnetism in her, 
 which, when you come within a certain 
 radius, irresistibly attracts you and holds 
 you in strong fetters. But at a distance 
 she seems powerless, and to my inmost na- 
 ture even repelling, I never saw such a 
 woman before. It is of this otufif that 
 Cleopatra, Helen, Lais, Diana de Poictiers 
 and others must have been, that turned 
 men crazy when they looked upon them, 
 and made fools and slaves of the wisest, 
 when they came near them. This girl pos- 
 sesses an immense power, and a terrible 
 beauty. She is a child as yet, and unaware 
 of the arms with which nature haflS fur- 
 nished her. Nay, not only is she uncon- 
 scious, but she suffers from it. But when 
 such a nature awakens, it is the awaken- 
 ing of the tiger. She will use her power 
 with a merciless heart, and trample on 
 those yielding to it with a remorseless step. 
 The only safety for her and her victims, is 
 her encounter with a nature stronger than 
 her own, and well fortified to resist her 
 
216 Differences. 
 
 charms. She will fall captive to such a 
 one, and come out of the struggle with a 
 regenerated spirit, or with a broken heart. 
 Antonia, rosebud of my heart, sweet star 
 of my love, let thy pure spirit guard me 
 from the spells of this innocent and artless, 
 but dangerous witch !" 
 
 With Kinkel's poem upon his pillow he 
 dropt asleej), and dreamt of the pungently 
 fragrant pine woods, and of a figure in a 
 sky blue habit, mounted on a gray pony, 
 that was cantering through their solemn 
 aisles. 
 
 On the evening which he had appointed 
 he went to see Charles Goldman. The 
 young man occupied a handsome suit of 
 apartments, consisting of a parlor, smok- 
 ing-room and alcove, in one of the lower 
 stories of the hotel. In order to be placed 
 in any reasonable proximity to mother 
 earth in a New York hotel, you must not 
 only be inordinately rich and proportion- 
 ately free of your money, but also a favor- 
 ite of the proprietors, or of his high might- 
 iness, the clerk. Charles had succeeded in 
 this, find hence his comfortable lodging, 
 while others climbed upward until it was 
 a serious question, whether they were 
 above the clouds or below them. 
 
 There was not a trace of vexation left 
 upon the handsome countenance of the 
 young man, as he welcomed Welland to 
 his apartments. The latter in turn took 
 pains to counteract any unpleasantness 
 which the events of the previous evening 
 
DiPFEEENCES. 217 
 
 might have occasioned. As a matter of 
 course, one of the first subjects of discuss- 
 ion, after generalities had been disposed 
 of, was the Reich en an family. Wei land 
 related in a simple honest fashion his first 
 meeting with the merchant, their after ac- 
 quaintance, their journey in company, and 
 the invitation to his house. He also took 
 care to speak of Emma as a very beautiful 
 young lady, but he did so in that tone of 
 indifference, with which one speaks of 
 matters that do not concern one very much. 
 Charles brightened up a great deal, and 
 said in return, that he had admired Miss 
 Reichenau for a long time, and had en- 
 deavored to gain her regards. He hoped 
 that she did not look upon him with indif- 
 ference ; it was a very serious matter to 
 him. 
 
 " I wish you all success, my dear sir,'* 
 said Welland, heartily. " You could not 
 bring a more beautiful bride to Pineland." 
 "No doubt of that," replied Charles, 
 blushing, and permitting himself to in- 
 dulge in pleasant anticipations. " She and 
 my sister would turn the heads of half the 
 gentlemen in the county. Did you not 
 think Antonia beautiful." 
 
 Now it was Welland's turn to blush, and 
 cast down his eyes. *' Very," he said in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " She and Tourtelotte will make a splen- 
 did couple," cried the young man. **T 
 don't see why they hesitate so long. They 
 might have been married already, and I 
 
218 Differences. 
 
 kDow it isn't Tourtelotte's fault that they 
 
 arn't, nor my parents, either." 
 
 "Excuse me," said Welland, with hesi- 
 tation. " Has it never occurred to you that 
 Miss Goldman might have had scruples of 
 a religious nature?" 
 
 Charles Goldman, blushed violently, and 
 sprang from his chair, crying : 
 
 " Sir, what do you mean ? How dare you 
 insult me thus?" 
 
 Welland gazed fully into his eyes. " Is 
 my supposition an insult?" he asked, 
 calmly, " I was not aware of it." 
 
 Charles lost all self-possession. "By 
 whatever chance you got to know of what 
 faith my father is, you have no right to re- 
 proach me with it here. You have proba- 
 ably already made capital of your knowl- 
 edge by imparting it to Mr. Reicheuau, and 
 prepossessing him against me. Let me 
 tell you sir, to employ such means against 
 a rival is the height of meanness, and you 
 shall give me satisfaction for it." 
 
 " Mr. Goldman, permit me to say that I 
 do not understand all this passion, and 
 these reproaches." 
 
 "What! have you so little of the ele- 
 ments of a gentleman in your nature, that 
 I naust strike you, to make you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 "If my remark regarding Miss Goldman 
 is offensive, remember, you invited the dis- 
 cussion !" 
 
 "What business ef your's are our relig- 
 ious convictions?" 
 
Differences. 219 
 
 " Is that the point ? Why, Charles Gold- 
 man, I don't know what religion you affect, 
 nor do I care. But as for myself, I am a 
 Jew." 
 
 This last remark changed the position of 
 affairs sensibly. Whereas Charles had be- 
 fore blushed with anger, it was now with 
 shame. He sat down, and was silent for a 
 long time. Then, looking up timidly, he 
 said: 
 
 "Have you lost all regard for me, Mr. 
 Welland ? I am a moral coward on that 
 point. I can not make up my mind to face 
 continually the charges, just or unjust, 
 which society has been in the habit of 
 bringing against those of the Jewish— 
 those of my father's— those of— our faith. 
 Still, do not think, that I am ashamed of 
 people holding that persuasion, for I asso- 
 ciate wuth a great many, and visit their 
 clubs. And, were I not so much in love 
 with Emma Reichenau, I would even take 
 a wife from their midst, as my parents 
 urge me to do." 
 
 "My dear sir," replied Welland, im- 
 pressively, " what you have said just now, 
 is unworthy of your character ; the great- 
 est kindness I can show you, is to forget 
 that you have said it. You have intimated 
 to me in a former conversation, that you 
 are an admirer of chivalric traits ; so am I. 
 But the chivalry I admire, is the chivalrj'- 
 of the heart. That chivalry which upholds 
 the unjustly oppressed and calumniated, 
 no matter what odium may result from the 
 
220 Differences. 
 
 action. And beside this, you are a Jew. 
 You may as well tear the nose from your 
 face as endeavor to solve your connection 
 with your people. Whether for good or 
 for ill, to break it, is an impossibility." 
 
 There was a long silence, and then 
 Charles Goldman seized Welland's hand, 
 and said : 
 
 " I am young and foolish. Please for- 
 give and forget. We may be friends or 
 not. But I shall always esteem you." 
 
 " Would that we could be friends," an- 
 swered Welland, with glistening eyes. 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by 
 the call boy, who brought a card to Mr. 
 Goldman. 
 
 " Bring some wine," said the latter, 
 " and then show the gentlemen up." 
 
 " My friend Merrins," he explained to 
 Welland, *' with a person who wishes to be 
 introduced to me. This will show you 
 that I am not as bad as I seem. Merrins is 
 of our persuasion, and a good, clever fel- 
 low, who has been of great service to me 
 in New York. He knows nothing of my 
 visits at Reichenau's, or my acquaintance 
 in their circles, and you would oblige me 
 by saying nothing about it. There is one 
 thing"— he added, laughingly, " he seems 
 determined on." 
 
 "And that is?" asked Welland, smiling 
 in turn. 
 
 *' To supply me with a wife," roared 
 Charles ; " I shouldn't wonder if his pres- 
 ent visit was with that object. I do be- 
 
Differences. 221 
 
 liove," he added, more seriously, "that he 
 has secretly communicated with my par- 
 ents on that point, for he is so persistent, 
 notwithstanding my rebuffs." 
 
 " I wish you joy," cried Welland, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 At that moment, the boy entered with 
 wine ; the visitors followed him. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Goldman," said Merrins, 
 "permit me to introduce to you Mr. Abra- 
 ham Watshin, of this city. Retail shoe 
 store, &c., <fec." 
 
 " Glad to see him," said Charles, po- 
 litely, " but I am well supplied with boots 
 at present." And while he poured out the 
 wine, he whispered to Welland; " An- 
 other marriage broker, I'll bet!" 
 
 "I don't M'ant to sell you any boots," 
 said the new-comer, with a grin. " Per- 
 haps we can make a trade of a different 
 sort." 
 
 Charles now introduced those present to 
 each other, and seated his visitors. Con- 
 versation ran on general topics. 
 
 Mr. Abraham Watshin was a middle- 
 aged man, with a sharp nose, a bald crown, 
 and H a spare beard surrounding a face 
 that was florid and fleshy, and devoid of 
 moustache. He had high cheek bones, and 
 flabby lips of a blueish tint. His hands 
 were large and red, with black rims 
 around the nails. From the nostrils and 
 ears protruded long, thin hairs, and his 
 fingers were covered with some of the same 
 
222 Differences. 
 
 kind. Grossness and cunning lay in his 
 
 expression. 
 
 One must confess that this gentleman 
 understood his business well. He knew 
 how to throw out gentle hints on the bless- 
 ings and advantages of the married state, 
 and yet did not endeavor to obtrude the 
 subject. Again, when the conversation 
 turned on great singers, he mentioned that 
 he was acquainted with a young lady of 
 exceeding beauty, whose musical talents 
 would even win her lame on the stage, did 
 not her parents, who were exceedingly 
 wealthy, strenuously object to any such 
 thing. He mentioned incidentally that 
 perhaps, on that very account, they 
 were anxious to see her soon, and well mar- 
 ried. 
 
 When the dearth of public amusements 
 was discussed, Mr. Watshin said care- 
 lessly : 
 
 " There will be a little party next week 
 at the house of my young friend, whose 
 vocal powers I have talked of to-night. If 
 you desire it, I shall be happy to procure 
 you an invitation. My friends are always 
 made welcome at the house of her par- 
 ents." 
 
 Charles bowed politely, and Mr. Watshin 
 added : 
 
 " They are very stylish people, and de- 
 light in gay parties and such things." 
 
 Late in the evening, Welland took his 
 leave, with the promise to call again at no 
 very distant period. 
 
Differences. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 Weli.and, in accordance with his prom- 
 ise to Mr. Reichenau, stayed at his house 
 for one week, and then moved into lodg- 
 ings. He was happy to escape from the 
 constant influence of that magic which 
 Emma Reichenau seemed to exert. True, 
 he had struggled against it, and aided by 
 his heart's love for the distant Antonia had 
 succeeded in resisting it. Still it entailed 
 a struggle, and he found it unpleasant to 
 be constantly subduing sensations, that 
 his better nature disapproved of. But 
 though living in lodgings, it must be con- 
 fessed that his visits at the Fifth Avenue 
 mansion were frequent, and his intimacy 
 with the family had even increased. Mr. 
 Reichenau's liking for Welland assumed 
 the character of a permanent friendship, 
 and he seriously thought of means to at- 
 tach him to his house for good. He not 
 only felt the greatest esteem for his man- 
 ners, learning, large-hearted views, and 
 that certain je ne sais quoi which distin- 
 guishes the habitues of good society, but 
 also for his sound judgment on commercial 
 operations. Still, notwithstanding his re- 
 peated and advantageous offers, Welland 
 refused to accept a situation with Reiche- 
 nau, or with any other commercial house. 
 He took occasional orders for surveys, but 
 concluded that he would devote a few 
 months to his mental culture. In ex- 
 plaining this to Reichenau, he said : 
 
224 Differences. 
 
 " The literary and scientific world ad- 
 vances with such giant strides, and pro- 
 duces so much that is new, that it becomes 
 dangerous now-a-days to fall behind. One 
 hazards a complete isolation, a loss of 
 one's position in the scientific ranks of the 
 age, by a few months.' neglect of reading. 
 I will devote a little time to brushing up 
 what has grown rusty in my past studies, 
 and to make myself acquainted with the 
 novelties in theory and fact which our pro- 
 lific age has brought forth. As I am not 
 pressed by circumstances, and disinclined 
 to commercial pursuits, I think it will be 
 the best plan." 
 
 And so they lived. And more and more 
 the thought came over Reichenau, how he 
 should delight in a son like Welland. And 
 more and more the wish arose in Emma, 
 that this glorious man, whose nature 
 seemed to subdue her, would once, only 
 once depart from his light tone of courtly 
 admiration, and say one flattering word to 
 her in the voice of his heart. But Welland 
 kept strict guard. No sooner did the in- 
 toxicating aroma of her presence envelope 
 him as in a cloud of rainbow hues, than 
 the heart of the man awoke, and. his will, 
 strong as steel, compelled a quietness of 
 demeanor that nettled Emma, and stimu- 
 lated her to an exertion of all her power of 
 pleasing. In the gorgeousuess of her 
 beauty, charged with that electricity that 
 thrills a man at the faintest touch, and 
 with that magic that makes him spell- 
 
Differences. 225 
 
 bound at her approach, the girl had entered 
 into combat with a nature sensuous enough 
 to appreciate all her charms, pure enough 
 to resist them, and sufficiently disciplined 
 to guard against being taken by surprise. 
 These struggles grew less frequent as 
 their acquaintance progressed. Gradually 
 Emma came to lay down her arms at Wel- 
 land's approach, and in a simple trusting 
 manner, to look up to him for advice and 
 guidance. This, however, was a dangerous 
 proceeding. The young man fell into hab- 
 its of familiarity that no man can enter 
 into with a'' beautiful woman, and escape 
 unharmed. Still, if his heart occasionally 
 softened, there was no sign of it in his 
 manner. Courtly, but cool and self-pos- 
 sessed, he always kept in view the line 
 which divides friendship from feelings of a 
 warmer nature. 
 
 The reaction of this behavior upon a na- 
 ture like Emma's, could not but in time 
 lead to maddening love, or to intense 
 hatred. Slowly the fuel accumulated in 
 her heart, but what passion would apply 
 the ilame to it, and at whose shrine it 
 would burn, was a matter to be decided by 
 circumstances. In the meanwhile, Emma 
 thirsted more and more for the young 
 man's society, and Reichenau delighted to 
 observe this predilection, for it seemed to 
 lead to the accomplishment of his wishes. 
 As a matter of course, he never dreamt of 
 objections on Welland's part. 
 Charles Goldman was about this time 
 15 
 
226 D I F F K R E N C E S . 
 
 much occupied, in consequence of the trou- 
 bles at the South. Mr. Goldman, after due 
 consideration, had ordered his son to sell 
 out his Northern stocks, settle up all his 
 business in New York, and return home. 
 The stocks had been sold, the business set- 
 tled up, but Charles still lingered, trying 
 in vain to get some promise or engagement 
 from Emma Reicheuaii. He saw the in- 
 creasing influence of Welland ; he noted 
 the favor with which Mr. Keichenau 
 looked upon the latter's intimacy with his 
 daughter, and he felt that it was necessary 
 to take a decided step if be thought of ever 
 making Emma his wife. So he posted ofi' 
 South, and pounced upon the family at 
 Pineland, when his letters had led them to 
 think that he would stay in New York all 
 winter. One day was devoted to family 
 affection, and then Charles, in an inter- 
 view with his parents, gave an account of 
 his business transactions. Mr. Sharp was 
 present, as a matter of course. Everything 
 proved satisfactory. Then, as Mr. Gold- 
 man rose to break up the sitting, Charles 
 requested him to tarry a little longer, an^ 
 with considerable hesitation, said : 
 
 *' I have got to tell you something, and 1 
 had better make it short. I am in love 
 with a young lady of New York, and I 
 want 3'our consent to marry her." 
 
 Both the parents looked at the handsome 
 young man before them. He was covered 
 with blushes, his eyes were cast down, and 
 
Differences. 227 
 
 the objects on the table. There was a joy- 
 ous softening in the eyes of the old people, 
 for rosy visions of their own youth were 
 recalled by his manner and looks. 
 
 "Have you already proposed?" asked 
 Mr. Goldman. 
 
 ** I have not. I waited for your consent." 
 
 "I need not ask whether the lady is suit- 
 able, Charles," said Mrs. Goldman. " You 
 know our opinions on that point." 
 
 " She is beautiful as a queen, belongs to 
 one of the nicest families in New York, and 
 moves in the very best society." 
 
 '*That is well," rejoined the mother. 
 ♦•Who is her father?" 
 
 *' Mr. Reichenau," replied Charles, rather 
 defiantly. " Reichenau & Co., of Memphis 
 and New YorR." 
 
 The three others looked up with sur- 
 prise. 
 
 '* Yes," continued the young man, ** I 
 know what you mean. He is not of our 
 persuasion, but that does not matter with 
 me. If Antonia is to marry Tourtelotte, I 
 might as well marry Miss Reichenau." 
 
 " I had hoped," said Mr. Goldman, sadly, 
 " that in New York you might have found 
 among those of our people, a young lady 
 whom you would have delighted to call 
 wife. I am sure you might, if you had 
 only desire^ to do so." 
 
 " Father," replied Charles, ** to love a 
 girl is not an act of the will. I love Emma 
 Reichenau, and if she will have me, I will 
 
 15* 
 
228 DiFKBRENCKS. 
 
 marry her — with your blessing if 1 can, 
 without, if I must." 
 
 '• But Charley," said the mother, " I am 
 sure there are many beautiful ladies of our 
 faith in that large city ; ladies as fair, as 
 well educated, and of as fice a family as 
 Miss Reichenau." 
 
 "There may be, mother," replied 
 Charles, " but they do not seem so to my 
 eyes. Besides," he added, with a frown, 
 ** I have not seen them. Most of the young 
 ladies you refer to, I have found to be ill- 
 bred, tainted by the pecuniary difficulties 
 that overshadowed their childhood, or by 
 the coarse disposition of their parents. 
 Their acquaintance with the actual worth 
 'of money, and the operations of commerce 
 have blighted their finer sensibilities, and 
 I could not endure a wife, who, when I 
 gave her a bracelet, would esteem my love 
 to be equal to five hundred dollars, and 
 when I presented her with a bouquet of 
 camelias, to be equal to ten. The worth of 
 the purse so overshadows one in the esti- 
 mation of these ladies, that the husband is 
 a secondary consideration. I want a wife 
 who has been raised in circumstances of 
 such affluence, or whose soul has been so 
 above the power of circumstances, that 
 money is an article that does not enter into 
 her calculations of life." 
 
 " You are are a fool," said Sharp. " I 
 will not listen any longer to such non- 
 sense. A man can fall in love with any 
 woman, if he only tries, and the more a 
 
Differences. 229 
 
 woman kuows of money, the better for the 
 household, especially with such a husband 
 as you." 
 
 '*But Charles," said Mr. Goldman, 
 *' what will become of the family, and 
 what will your aunt say ? Sarah, my love, 
 speak to the boy." 
 
 ''Goldman, my life," said the mother, 
 *• what can I say to him ? Charley has 
 been raised with aristocratic ideas, and I 
 always told you lie would not find a suita- 
 ble wife of oar persuasion in the United 
 States." 
 
 "Very true, Sarah, my life; but you 
 never forgot to say how disadvantageous to 
 our position in this county a foreign wife 
 of Charlej^'s would be." 
 
 " What is to be done now ?" asked Mrs. 
 Goldman. 
 
 "What is to be done?" cried Sharp. 
 " Let the boy come to reason, and give up 
 his foolish schemes." 
 
 " You wouldn't make me miserable?" 
 said Charles, turning his sea-blue eyes up 
 to Sharp, and seizing one of the old man's 
 hands. 
 
 " Miserable, you foolish child ! Xo ; but 
 it you leave your faith, I'll have nothing 
 more to do with you." 
 
 "Now I've got you," said Charles. "I 
 am Jew enough to know that no positive 
 interdiction exists against marriage with 
 Gentiles. I needn't leave my faith, nor 
 even break any positive command of it." 
 
 " Do you like her much ? And does she 
 
230 Differences. 
 
 like you well enough too ?" asked Sharp, 
 
 crossly. 
 
 " I love her beyond every thing. But I 
 don't know whether she likes me." 
 
 " How can she help it," said Mrs. Gold- 
 man fondly, stroking Cliarles' hair. 
 
 But Sharp drew a long breath. 
 
 " It is not as bad as I thought," he said. 
 '* I don't believe the girl will have him if 
 she knows that he is not of her religion. I 
 would advise, that we give way to the boy 
 and let him propose, if he promise to com- 
 municate this fact to the lady." 
 
 Charles winced. 
 
 Mr. Goldman now said : 
 
 ** Charles, it is a ditferent thing to marry 
 your daughter to a Gentile, from letting 
 your son take a Christian wife. The son is 
 the upholder of the family name, and his 
 wife determines the religion of her chil- 
 dren. But if the lady in question love 
 you, I doubt not that she will assume your 
 faith. What will a woman not do for the 
 sake of the man she loves ? Then, if your 
 affection for her be so strong, go and ask 
 her to be your wife. What do you say, Sa- 
 rah my love ?" 
 
 *' Goldman, my life," replied the lady, 
 " I know the boy. It is of no use opposing 
 him. If the lady is what he says in every 
 other respec*", let us hope, that for Charley's 
 sake, she may assume our faith. Other- 
 wise, my aunt will never consent." 
 
 " If you consent, what do I care for aunt 
 Outon?" 
 
Differences. 231 
 
 " Aunt has a milliou of francjs, Charley." 
 " Which I hope she will keep for many- 
 years yet. Thanks to you for your kind- 
 ness and love; thanks to all. I feel that I 
 have grieved you, but I love Emma with 
 all my heart. Forgive me dear parents, 
 and you dear friend, but I'll bring you 
 home a daughter that will be my best apol- 
 ogy. To-morrow I start for New York." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVJ. 
 
 The parlors of the Reichenau mansion 
 presented a genial picture on a cold win- 
 ter day. In addition to the furnace, which 
 dififused its warmth throughout the house, 
 Mr. Reichenau insisted on having a fire in 
 the grates. And, in truth, there is noplea- 
 santer ornament to a room than a merry 
 blaze ; it gives that air of home comfort 
 which attaches itself to the old English ex- 
 pression of hearth. We may rejoice in fur- 
 naces, but don't let us dispense altogether 
 with grates. 
 
 Aunt Margaret and Emma were enter- 
 taining two visitors. Mrs. DeWolf and 
 her daughter belonged to the fashionables 
 of the city. There was little known to so- 
 ciety of their former history ; but for the 
 past ten years they had been wealthy and 
 fashionable, and ten years in New York is 
 an age beyond which historical researches 
 do not extend. So they claimed a position 
 among the ci-eme of Fifth, and a recognition 
 
232 Differences. 
 
 from that of Madison Avenue. Mrs. De 
 Wolf was a short, stout lady, with no 'end 
 of pretensions. Her eyes stared haughtily 
 over the bold bridge of her Roman nose, 
 and her chin was carried considerably in 
 advance of the rest of her head. Like the 
 princes and noblemen of the ancien regime, 
 she graduated her salutations according to 
 the rank of the person, or the degree of fa- 
 vor she happened to regard him with. 
 Thus: one finger to a stranger, or an hum- 
 ble person : two, to a friend or equal ; 
 three, to a person of higher rank, or to one 
 in extraordinary favor. Her whole hand 
 she was never known to have given to any 
 body except to her husband on the wedding 
 day. Her daughter, like her in features, 
 was nevertheless very pretty, and beside 
 being very clever, affected somewhat the 
 sentimental. Both ladies were dressed 
 with great elegance, and had been discuss- 
 ing the opera. 
 
 *' My dear Miss Reichenau, every body 
 was there. I was sorry to remark your 
 
 absence. Madame M wore a short 
 
 waist and powder on her hair, and all the 
 house looked at her. I hate such fishing 
 for notoriety. It is not my style." Thus 
 spake Mrs. DeWolf. 
 
 '' I regret not having been there," said 
 Emma. " How was the music?" * 
 
 '' Charming," replied Miss Be Wolf. 
 ** Brignoli looked beautiful. Isn't his mous- 
 tache sweet?" 
 
 " I am sure I don't know," laughed 
 
Diffp:renck8. 283 
 
 aunt Margaret; "but his voice certainly 
 is." 
 
 " What have you done with your Ten- 
 nessee admirer, Miss Reichenau? He 
 used to be in constant attendance at the 
 Academy. I did not see him," said the el- 
 der lady, with a sharp look at Emma. 
 
 "Madam, I do not claim him as an ad- 
 mirer. I believe he has returned to his 
 home. I heard so." 
 
 ■ "Heard so? Bless me, have you quar- 
 reled?" 
 
 " About a very serious matter." 
 
 "Indeed? You know how much I am 
 attached to you. Do tell me then what it 
 was. Perhaps I can be of service." 
 
 " Perhaps you can. Our difference of 
 opinion arose from the question whether 
 the emperor of China wears his own hair 
 or a wig. Can you help us to decide this 
 matter?" 
 
 Mrs. DeWolf turned scarlet. "You will 
 have your joke," she said, with forced 
 calmness, and arranging her own false 
 front with her gloved hand. " But I hope 
 you have not lost your knight from Ten- 
 nessee. All the town would talk of it. 
 Now, I never allow Amanda to be escorted 
 by young gentlemen in that exclusive 
 manner." 
 
 "I know that I can trust Emma," re- 
 marked aunt Margaret, quietly. " Mr. 
 Goldman was called away by the troubles 
 in his State." 
 
234 Differences. 
 
 "Of course," chimed in Mrs. DeWolf. 
 
 " 1 was just teasing the dear girl." 
 
 The door opened, and admitted Mr. B 
 
 the celebrated painter. He was greeted 
 with great cordiality bvall. The elder De 
 Wolf majestically extended one finger to 
 him. 
 
 "What a love your latest picture is ! You 
 must have seen angels to paint such a 
 countenance," said Emma. 
 
 " Where the daughters of men possess so 
 much beauty, it is not necessary to ascend 
 to heaven for models," replied the painter, 
 gallantly. 
 
 " I looked at your picture for over an 
 hour," observed Miss DeWolf, " and I 
 think it is beautiful. Do you believe that 
 it is possible to dress the hair in that fash- 
 ion, and make it stay?" 
 
 "I don't know," replied B ; "better 
 
 try. Have you received your Beethoven 
 bust. Miss }-eichenau." 
 
 " Yes. It ;s in the corner behind you." 
 
 All turned and looked at the magnificent 
 face of the great maestro. Finally Mrs. 
 DeWolf said : 
 
 "What a head of hair!" 
 
 Emma burst into an irrepressible fit of 
 laughter, from which she only recovered 
 to say : 
 
 " But it is not combed smooth." 
 
 The ladies had arisen to take their de- 
 parture, when the door opened once more, 
 and Charles Goldman entered. He was 
 dressed exquisitely. His eyes shone with 
 
D I F F E K E N € K S . 235 
 
 brilliant and eager light, his golden hair 
 floated back from a forehead white as snow, 
 and cheeks that were tinged ^with crimson, 
 and lips red as coral, contrasted finely with 
 the sunny hue of his moustache. All wel- 
 comed him with great warmth, and upon 
 Emma's countenance, a responsive blush 
 appeared for a moment, and then left her 
 pale and calm. Mrs. DeWolf extended 
 three fingers to the young man, and invited 
 him with great cordiality to come and see 
 them. Amanda, her daughter, turned up 
 her pretty eyes like a duck in a thunder- 
 storm, and hoped that they would not miss 
 him at the opera to-night. She could 
 never understand the music, without his 
 being there to explain the meaning. 
 
 " And my dear Mr. Goldman," added 
 the mother,"^ " we are in such a fright about 
 the Southern news. You have just come 
 from Tennessee. Do call, and give us the 
 truth of all these horrid rumors. We shall 
 all be so happy to see you." 
 
 And then the adieux were given, and nu- 
 merous assurances of affection, and prom- 
 ises to call were exchanged between the 
 ladies. 
 
 The carriage came up, and the DeWolfs 
 went to circulate among their numerous 
 friends, with unremitting assiduity, the 
 news of Emma Reichenau's desertion by 
 the wealthy Tennesseean, and of his sud- 
 den return. 
 
 Mr. , the artist, staid quite a while 
 
 yet, and entered into an elaborate discus- 
 
236 Differe:sces. 
 
 sion of the pre-Raflaelite, the fond d'or, 
 and a number ot" other styles of art. 
 Emma listened with a great show of inter- 
 est, and occasionally took part in the dis- 
 cussion, and prolonged it by modest ques- 
 tions. This brought the painter out more 
 and more, while it drove the impartial 
 Charles Goldman to the verge of insanity. 
 To add to his irritation, aunt Margaret, 
 who perceived it, in mistaken kindness 
 plied him with questions about his jour- 
 ney, and endeavored to amuse him in her 
 quiet and amiable way. The necessity of 
 framing insipid replies to commonplace 
 queries, at a time when the heart is burst- 
 ing and the brain on fire, is the most ex- 
 quisite torture that can be applied to hu- 
 man being. At such a time the old savage 
 nature stirs in us, and we are tempted to 
 seize any handy object and knock down 
 the amiable and friendly individual, that 
 is unconsciously putting us to the rack. 
 Emma did not fail to perceive what was 
 passing in Charles' mind, and she occasion- 
 ally calmed his stOrm of impatience by a 
 slyly demure look, and a mischievous 
 question regarding Perugino or some other 
 
 of the old masters. At last Mr. B 
 
 arose, and with many excuses for his 
 premature departure, and abandonment of 
 the interesting subject they had been dis- 
 cussing, said that, though his time was 
 limited just then, he would be happy to re- 
 turn at an early day, and continue the con- 
 versation. Emma thanked him, and hoped 
 
DlFFERBNCKS. 237 
 
 that he would not forget his promise- 
 When he had gone, aunt Margaret excused 
 herself, and Charles drew a long breath 
 and said : 
 
 " I admire your patience." 
 
 "Say rather my newly awakened inter- 
 est in art," replied Emma. 
 
 " Oh, is that it? Then we may expect to 
 see you handle a brush and palette in 
 time." 
 
 " Yes ; and the first picture I shall paint 
 will be ihat of a young man hopelessly 
 wincing under the infliction of an art lec- 
 ture." 
 
 " Do you think I'd make a good model ?" 
 
 *' Excellent for that situation," replied 
 Emma, laughing. " If you could only 
 
 have studied your face while Mr. B 
 
 was speaking !" 
 
 " Oh, I was a v^ery lamb of patience 
 while he waded through the art history of 
 the Christian era ! But when the Greeks 
 and Romans came in for their turn, it was 
 more than I could bear. I venly be- 
 lieve, that if he had spoken ten minutes 
 longer I must have knocked him down or 
 exploded. There are limits to every man's 
 endurance." 
 
 " I see that you have fallen into Tennes- 
 see manners. You have become very sav- 
 age in temper. In future I shall be afraid 
 to contradict you, for fear of a knock down 
 or an explosion." 
 
 " And /shall make it the chief object of 
 my life not to deserve a contradiction from 
 
238 Differences. 
 
 3/OM," replied Charles, in an earnest, though 
 
 somewhat timid voice. 
 
 A flash from her magnificent eyes almost 
 dazzled him. In a voice of polite mockery, 
 she said : 
 
 " The chief object of your life ? What a 
 ' vaulting ambition' you seem to possess. 
 I wouldn't have a friend who dared not to 
 contradict me. It would be a dreadful 
 bore. Contradiction is the very spice of 
 life.'' 
 
 " Life is very endurable without that 
 spice," replied Charles. " But don't let us 
 converse on abstractions. I have hurried 
 down to Tennessee and back again with 
 but one purpose, one aim." 
 
 *' And now you want me ask what that 
 was ? I shall do no such thing, Mr. Gold- 
 man, especially as j-ou haye grown so seri- 
 ous." 
 
 "Can 3'ou not divine? Does not your 
 heart tell you?" 
 
 " What a strange supposition ! No ! I d© 
 not understand the language of the heart. 
 But if you insist upon my asking what have 
 you gone to Tennessee for? Tell me." 
 There was a blush on her face. 
 
 " To tell my parents that my heart was 
 full of the divinest creature that walks the 
 earth ! To ask them for permission to 
 make her my own Emma," he cried, seiz- 
 ing her hands, "dear Emma, will you be 
 my wife ? You must know, you must have 
 perceived what my feelings were. For 
 months past I have only lived in the radi- 
 
Differences. 239 
 
 ance of your beauty, and oh, Emma! let 
 me hope that I may continue to do so all 
 my life." 
 
 He stood before her with his handsome 
 face expressing the very agony of entreaty. 
 He held her soft pretty hands in his own, 
 and pressed them with the strength of 
 overwhelming passion. His eyes hung on 
 her features, and endeavored to catch an 
 •encouraging look. But Emma remained 
 quietly seated on her chair, and though 
 her face beamed with gratified pride, and 
 perhaps with something more, she kept 
 her eyes fixed dreamily upon the fire, and 
 answered not. 8he answered not by look, 
 or word. She seemed to be listening to 
 pleasant music that came from afar. 
 
 ** Emma," cried Charles at last, ''have 
 you no answer for me?" 
 
 Then she looked up, and said : 
 
 " I hardly know what to answer. 1 can 
 not understand your feelings. I like you 
 very well, but I don't think that I want to 
 marry you. Yet, I don't know. Why 
 must we speak of this subject ? Let us 
 drop it." 
 
 " Great God ! Emma, have some pity in 
 your heart!" 
 
 " 1 don't think I have much of a heart. 
 I don't believe that I love you. I have al- 
 ways thought of my future husband as a 
 strong character, with a will more power- 
 ful than my own, compelling me to bow 
 down and tremble before him. It may be 
 a romantic idea, and a foolish one. But I 
 
240 Differences. 
 
 believe that the race of heroes is not ex- 
 tinct ; and I am waiting for my ideal, who 
 will not entreat me to marry him, but will 
 proudly compel me to be his wife. If such 
 a strong, proud character bore me off by 
 force, and compelled me to marry him, I 
 would love him all the more for it. This 
 has been my fancy, Mr. Goldman. So, let 
 me wait for my hero, and do you look for a 
 sweet, gentle maid, who will make you a 
 better wife than the wild and extravagant 
 Emma Reichenau. — Ah ! here is Mr. Wel- 
 land !" and she sprang up, with a lively 
 glow on her face, and the most animating 
 smile it was possible to imagine. " I am 
 so glad!" 
 
 "So that is your hero!" cried Charles, 
 madly. 
 
 " And if it were ?" she returned, proudly. 
 
 " Farewell ! May God bless you !" And, 
 without another word, he hastened out, 
 .past Welland, who was just being admitted 
 by the front door. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIl. 
 Welland paused for a moment, and 
 gazed after the agitated youth, who, with- 
 out a sign of recognition, hurried past him, 
 sprang down the steps, and walked quickly 
 along the street. He had not proceeded far* 
 however, before he suddenly stopped, and 
 reeled as if grown dizzy, and about to fall. 
 Welland hastened to his side, and proffered 
 
Differences. 241 
 
 assistance. But Charles drew back as if 
 stung by a reptile, and surveying the other 
 with an expression of fierce hatred, cried : 
 "Sir?l" 
 
 It was bat one syllable, but it spoke vol- 
 umes. Nor did Welland reply to it other- 
 wise than by a glance of astonishment, and 
 a bow. In great perplexity he mounted 
 the steps of the Reichenau mansion, and 
 re-entered. Emma was in the parlor, her 
 face buried in her hands. She was crying 
 softly, 
 
 " Excuse me," said Welland. " I have 
 come at aoi inopportune moment." And 
 he prepared to retreat. 
 
 "Do not go," said Emma, in a voice ot 
 peculiar softness. " I am glad that you 
 came," 
 
 " You seem to be agitated. Can I play, 
 while you compose yourself?" 
 
 " Please do." 
 
 He sat down at the piano, and sounded a 
 number of soft accords. Then gently 
 hummed that exquisite song by Dickens, 
 " The Ivy Green :" 
 
 ' ' Creeping ; creeping ; creeping where no life is seen, 
 Oh, a rare old plant is the ivy green !" 
 
 Presently he stopped, and asked : "Have 
 you enough ?" 
 
 ♦' Please sing another," said Emma. 
 
 So he sang Kingsley's Three Fishers. 
 Strangely and solemnly sounded the re- 
 frain : 
 
 " Mea must work, while women must weep, 
 For there's little to earn, and many to keep. 
 And the harbor bar keeps moaning 
 
 16 
 
242 Differences. 
 
 It had the effect of withdrawing her at- 
 tention from herself. When the line : 
 The sooner 'tia over, the sooner to sleep," 
 came, she laid her hand lightly on Wel- 
 land's shoulder. He stopped, and looked 
 up. 
 
 •'Have you met Charles Goldman," she 
 asked. 
 
 " As I came in. He seemed in a strange 
 state of mind." 
 
 "Yes. He has asked me to marry him." 
 
 " And you ?" he inquired, turning upon 
 the piano stool. 
 
 *' Have refused," she replied, still resting 
 her hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 •* Pardon me. I found you in tears. Do 
 you regret your decision ? — 1 have no right 
 to ask, it is true." 
 
 " I am glad you do ask," and she cast 
 down her eyes. 
 
 " Shall I recall Mr. Goldman then ?'-' 
 
 " Louis Welland !" and she flashed those 
 glorious orbs full upon him, *' I do not re- 
 gret my decision, nor ever shall. It is true 
 that I was somewhat attached to Charles 
 Goldman last summer, and almost fancied 
 I loved him. But he is too gentle, too 
 mild, far too tame to become my lord and 
 master. I shall never marry to possess a 
 slave in my husband ; I want a superior to 
 look up to. Don't you think I am right ?" 
 
 " Miss Emma," said Welland, " this is a 
 delicate question, and I prefer not to dis- 
 cuss it, highly honored as I am by your 
 confidence." 
 
D I F F K R JC N C E s . 243 
 
 It needed all his self-command to pre- 
 serve the calmness of his countenance, and 
 the coolness of his speech. Under the 
 pressure of her little hand, he was inclined 
 to shake and tremble like an oak in an 
 earthquake. His blood coursed through 
 his veins like streams of burning lava, 
 and he seemed floating in that peculiar 
 electric atmosphere, which emanated from. 
 Emma. 
 
 "You are trying to evade me.. Why, 
 think you, I contide in you thus?" 
 
 " I ask myself, and find no answer." 
 
 "None?" and her voice quivered 
 strangely. 
 
 "What in the world do you mean?" 
 cried Welland, as he rose suddenly, and 
 walked to the window. He was in a whirl 
 of intoxicating sensations, and felt that in 
 another moment he would be lost. 
 
 "I mean that you are the only man I 
 have ever met, whose censure I fear, whose 
 praise I covet. And yet, strange to say, 
 while every one admired or blamed me, 
 you have never given me either censure or 
 praise." 
 
 " Xor ever shall. Censure implies a right 
 which I dare not aspire to, praise a relation, 
 which does not exist between us." 
 
 " A man like you dare aspire to any 
 thing." 
 
 " Not so. Reason must regulate our as- 
 pirations." 
 
 " You do not understand me, or you will 
 not." 
 
 16* 
 
244 Differences. 
 
 She sat down, and pensively rested her 
 head on her hand. Then glancing up, 
 spoke softly, almost in a whisper : 
 
 " I have said very much this afternoon, 
 and I looked for a response of a different 
 sort." 
 
 Welland still preserved silence ; he ex- 
 amined isome hyacinths in the window, 
 and seemed not to have heard the last re- 
 mark. But when he looked up, and per- 
 ceived that an answ^er was expected, he 
 asked quietly : 
 
 ** Miss Reichenau, have you observed 
 these flowers?" 
 
 *' Yes. They seem to interest you very 
 much just now," she replied, with irony. 
 
 " They do. Look at this purple blossom, 
 and the white one at its side. They incline 
 toward each other, and seem ready to em- 
 brace in their fond approach. Do you 
 think that if a gorgeous rose were placed 
 at the other side of this purple hyacinth, 
 it would desert its white blossom and bend 
 over toward the rose?" 
 
 " I do not understand floriculture, or the 
 inclination of flowers," she said, coldly, 
 yet with some attention. 
 
 " It would not. It assuutJes a certain po- 
 >sition, and can not be turned, unless pulled 
 up by the roots. Do you know why it 
 turns this way ?" 
 
 " I have told you that I understand noth- 
 ing of the matter. Nevertheless, I thank 
 you for your lesson in botany." 
 
 "It turns thus, just as the human heart 
 
Differences. 245 
 
 conceives certain aflfections — no one knows 
 why, no sage can explain the working of 
 these things. They are — that is all we 
 know. And now," he continued, approach- 
 ing her, " will you grant me an hour of 
 confidence at your own time? Some day 
 when 3'our nerves are quiet. I have much 
 to say to you. Do not refuse me this fa- 
 vor." 
 
 " For what purpose? Don't ask me." 
 
 "Permit me to persist. At your own 
 time." 
 
 " I promise. I will let you know when. 
 Haven't I talked much nonsense this after- 
 noon?" 
 
 " I am not able to judge. My mind is so 
 pre-occupied with business matters to-day, 
 that I must plead guilty to great inatten- 
 tion. Do not forget your promise. Good 
 day." And he took his dej^arture. 
 
 Emma remained standing on the same 
 spot, and in the same attitude, until she 
 heard a step approach. Then softly creep- 
 ing up-stairs to her own room, she mur- 
 mured drearily and wearily : 
 
 "Rejected!" 
 
 Hours passed. She answered the sum- 
 mons to dinner by pretending a nervous 
 headache. On the same plea she refused to 
 see any one. Her grief was her sole com- 
 panion. 
 
 It was the first blow her young heart had 
 received, the first rebuff her hopes had 
 met. She could scarce realize that it was 
 possible. A man, who had remained si- 
 
246 Differences. 
 
 lent toward her, because, as she imagined, 
 he feared that the difference of station, and 
 social position, and wealth would preclude 
 all hopes of a union, had rejected her, when 
 she approached him with extended arms. 
 He did not love her. And she had almost 
 asked for his love. He would not marry 
 her. And she had almost asked him. It 
 was such a puzzle, that she could not find 
 her way out. Only this was clear, that 
 they must be strangers to each other for 
 ever after, it thej^ would net be enemies. 
 
 And Charles Goldman. How wantonly 
 had she rejected his piteous appeal ! She 
 called up bis glance of entreaty, she saw 
 his fair face trembling with excitement, his 
 sea-blue eyes so earnest in their gaze, his 
 bright, sunny hair. And he was gone. 
 Sent away with a bitter sorrow in his heart, 
 ev^en as she now lay here, nursing her own 
 bruised feelings. Was he indil!erent to 
 her? She could not tell. Welland had 
 appeared to her like a hero of romance, 
 and his seeming indifference had first 
 roused the wish to make a conquest of him. 
 This had proved dangerous. She had been 
 forced to capitulate, and the enemy had 
 even disdained to hold her a prisoner. 
 
 She slept soundly, after all ; but next 
 morning, she felt that she had grown older. 
 Her first illusion had been disj^elled, the 
 first idol of her heart had been taken from 
 her. It is this which makes the spirit old. 
 Young it remains for all the years, if al- 
 lowed to retain the dreams and illusions of 
 
Differences. 247 
 
 youth. Old it turns for all the youth, if 
 these are dispelled. Thank God, for the 
 eternal power of rejuvenating he has im- 
 planted in the human heart. 
 
 And Welland. He was sorely puzzled. 
 He had not dreamt of this. After all, it 
 was very flattering that a girl so beautiful, 
 wealthy and proud, should be carried 
 away to such an extent by her passion for 
 him. It was a sort of flattery which few 
 men are able to resist. The more he pon- 
 dered, the softer grew his heart. What a 
 magnificent beauty she was ! How com- 
 pletely she threw away all reserve, all 
 hesitation, to ask him for his love. With 
 what delight would her father have hailed 
 a consummation of this kind. To judge 
 from some of his hints he even anticipated 
 it. It was almost a pity, that it could not 
 be. So loving and beautiful a girl; so 
 kind and prepossessed a father ; a position 
 of such advantage. It was a pity. Fate 
 plaj'^s with men at cross jDurposes. The 
 best chances occur, when one can not take 
 advantage of them. 
 
 Thus ran Welland's thoughts. Thus 
 would any man's thoughts have run, after 
 what had occurred. He could not help 
 contrasting the brilliancy of his fortunes, 
 the general consent and contentment, the 
 absence of trouble, in case he married 
 Emma Reichenau, with the long years of 
 waiting, the heart-burnings, and the family 
 opposition which his engagement with An- 
 tonia entailed upon him. After acting 
 
248 Differences. 
 
 properly, and remaining faithful to his 
 principles and promises, no man could 
 have denied himself the small satisfaction 
 of making reflections like these. 
 
 But his love for Antonia only burned the 
 brighter at last. She was the chosen one 
 of his heart, and after permitting his 
 thoughts to carry him away for a little 
 while, they only returned to her with 
 double strength. And with thoughts of 
 Antonia, came also thoughts of her 
 brother. Anxious to clear up their mutual 
 misunderstandings, he hastened to the 
 Fifth Avenue hotel, and sent up his card. 
 It was returned with a " Kot at home," 
 which thus put an eflectual bar to all en- 
 deavors at explanation. 
 
 In a weary and rather discontented state 
 of mind, in short, in that state which the 
 English have termed "the blues," Wel- 
 land strolled about this evening. Sud- 
 denly a hand was extended to him, and a 
 voice asked : 
 
 " How do you do ? How is friend Gold- 
 man?" 
 
 It was Merrins, dressed in the extreme 
 of fashion, and looking more dissipated 
 than ever. At such times one is glad of 
 any companionship, and Welland returned 
 the greeting with cordiality. 
 
 " Where are you going ? Particular busi- 
 ness?" asked Merrins. 
 
 " No ; quite at your service. Have you 
 planned out your evening ?" 
 
Differences. 249 
 
 " Never do. Makes one a slave to one's 
 own resolves." 
 
 " Well then, let us go and drink a bottle 
 of wine. I have got the blues, I think." 
 
 " Lost money ? Only thing gives me the 
 blues." 
 
 " No. Nothing of that sort," replied 
 Welland, smiling. 
 
 They were soon seated in the cozy nook 
 of a wine-house, in the lower part of the 
 city. 
 
 "If it isn't money gave you the blues," 
 remarked Merrins, " 'tis woman." 
 
 ♦' You may be right," answered Welland. 
 *' You seem to be experienced." 
 
 *• Haven't lived all my life in New York 
 for nothing. But I treat them philosophi- 
 callj\" 
 
 " You surprise me. I didn't know that 
 the subject was capable of such treatment. 
 Philosophy and women!" 
 
 *' Have been three times on the point of 
 proposing during the last week. Have 
 each time gone to the house of the lady, with 
 the firm intention of asking her to be my 
 wife. Something occurred. A trifle, per- 
 haps, disturbed me. A little over eager- 
 ness on her part. Show of consciousness of 
 my purpose on part of the mother. Or 
 some such thing. Have gone away each 
 time without committing myself. And 
 have always felt happy over it afterward. 
 A sort of thankfulness for being still at lib- 
 erty. Aint it queer?" 
 
 ♦* Don't you like the lady ?" 
 
250 Differences. 
 
 " Yes. I like her ; a kind of," replied 
 Merrins, reflectingly. " Figure's good, 
 teeth pretty sound, cheeks nicely red, and 
 plenty of black hair. Dresses gorgeously, 
 and wears five thousand dollar's worth of 
 diamonds at least. Educated too — plays 
 piano by the hour. Don't you know her? 
 Krakowwitzer & Co, Gents' Clothing and 
 Furnishing Goods, Chatham street." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 It was a brilliant evening at the Aca- 
 demy of Music. The season was almost 
 over, and every body seemed anxious to 
 listen once to the magnificent voices, that 
 had delighted the New York public dur- 
 ing the winter. The boxes were crowded. 
 Every variety of opera costume was on ex- 
 hibition. The most delicate and the most 
 -vavid colors vied for the mastery, and dia- 
 monds sparkled in magnificent profusion 
 on necks and arms of marble whiteness. 
 
 Presently Muzio appeared, and waved his 
 baton. The overture began. Everj- body 
 settled himself comfortably in his chair, 
 and the ladies commenced to scrntinize 
 each other's toilets, with the aid of pearl- 
 mounted glasses. 
 
 In one of the boxes sat Emma Reichenau 
 and her father. Not far behind them was 
 Welland. He had kept up his friendly re- 
 lations with the family. But they extended 
 novr, to the old gentleman, mainly. Thus 
 
Differences. 251 
 
 far had he and Emma found the necessity 
 of sacrificing to appearances. But beyond 
 this, their intercourse though friendly was 
 cold and formal, and their conversa- 
 tion made up of platitudes and common- 
 places. Emma was more serious than 
 when we saw her last. The two months, 
 which had passed between her momentous 
 interview with Welland and the present 
 moment, had changed the girl into a 
 woman. With the same proud forehead, 
 and the same dazzling beauty an air of re- 
 serve, and a certain coldness had come over 
 her, which chilled the beholder. 
 
 The curtain rose, and the introductory 
 chorus was given. The opera was Verdi's 
 Trovatore. Sweet Isabella Hinckley, whose 
 voice now rises in the choir of angels, sang 
 the part of Leonora. Every eye rested 
 upon her lovely form, every ear was in- 
 clined to her melodious tones. She retired, 
 and Brignoli, with a voice breathing the 
 sweetness of Italian springs, chanted the 
 serenade. At that moment Emma became 
 sensible of a pair of eyes gazing at her. 
 Every one has felt the sensation. Every 
 one has experienced this peculiar thrill. 
 She languidly lifted her ov,^n, and saw 
 Charles Goldman, directly opposite, with a 
 thin wan face, from which his Sea-blue 
 eyes, larger and brighter than ordinarily, 
 stared at her. She felt a shudder pass over 
 her, and half turned to Welland, to inter- 
 rogate him with a glance. 
 
 '' I have seen him," he replied. 
 
252 Differences. 
 
 "What keeps him in New York ?" she 
 asked drearily. " His presence makes me 
 uncomfortable." 
 
 " I have heard but little of him," said 
 Welland. " He has abandoned his old 
 haunts, and seems to live without a pur- 
 pose." 
 
 " Do you not see him now and then?" 
 
 *' Never now-a-days. He " 
 
 "Silence," whispered Mr. Reichenau. 
 " Listen to the trio," 
 
 The first act was over. People took their 
 ease. 
 
 Welland bent down to Emma, and be- 
 gan : 
 
 "You have promised me an hour of con- 
 fidence. I did not wish to remind you of 
 it. But now I request you to appoint the 
 time." 
 
 Emma raised her eyes and threw a 
 piercing glance at him. But he met it 
 calmly and gently. 
 
 "I shall be engaged evei-y afternoon this 
 w^eek," she said. Then playing nervously 
 with her fan, added : " I am afraid of your 
 confidence Mr. Welland." 
 
 '* Then I withdraw my request," he re- 
 plied bowing. 
 
 '* No. Come on Friday afternoon at two 
 o'clock. I shall expect you." 
 
 The overture began, and the curtain rose 
 on the Anvil Chorus. 
 
 In the meanwhile Charles Goldman, who 
 had after the first act risen, and strolled 
 
Differences. 253 
 
 around the house, was picked up by the 
 De Wolfs. 
 
 **Do come here ray dear Mr. Goldman," 
 cried the mother, extending three gloved 
 fingers to him, "and tell us all about this 
 music. You do it so charmingly." 
 
 Charles approached with a flush of fever- 
 ish excitement on his cheek. 
 
 "I should be happy to do so," he said, 
 " did I not know that Miss DeWolf under- 
 stands it much better than I." 
 
 " You are are satirical," said the young 
 lady. "Tell us then, you wicked man, 
 why you have broken all your promises, 
 and never called ? Confess that you had 
 forgotten all about it. Guilty or not 
 guilty?" 
 
 " Guilty and repentant. Where such fair 
 eyes sit in judgment, the sentence must be 
 merciful." 
 
 "Must be? 
 
 ' The quality of mercy is not constrained, 
 But droppeth as a gentle dew from heaven—' 
 Am I misquoting?" 
 
 "I believe you are. What is to be my 
 sentence?" 
 
 " I must reflect on the case. Come back 
 after the next act and inquire again. Dr. 
 Solta, how do you do ?" and she bowed to 
 a young Italian doctor, to whom Mrs. De 
 Wolf extended two fingers with great dig- 
 nity. 
 
 "Permit me to introduce Signor Casa- 
 bella, an artist, whose pictures are making 
 him celebrated," said the doctor, producing 
 a noble looking youth. 
 
254 Differences. 
 
 Another bow on part of Miss, and one 
 linger on part of Mrs. DeWolf. 
 
 "It is always advantageous for the 
 painter to be acquainted with ladies whose 
 speaking features are sure to suggest ideas 
 to him," said the artist, with Italian gal- 
 lantry. 
 
 Charles passed on. He was greeted with 
 many a bright smile from ladies more or 
 less fair, and with many a eoquettish wave 
 of the fan. He bowed here, and smiled 
 there, but restlessly continued to move. 
 
 " Why Charley, how are you ?" 
 
 It was young Armistead from Claiborne 
 County, a friend and schoolmate. 
 
 " What in the world brings you to New 
 York ?" inquired Charles, after the ex- 
 change of hearty salutations. 
 
 " I can't tell you just now. Let us wait 
 until this act is over, and then go." 
 
 When the curtain had fallen, they left 
 the house, and adjourned to a room in a 
 celebrated restaurant. Over a bottle of 
 wine they talked of home reminiscences. 
 
 " You wouldn't know the old county," 
 said Armistead at last. " Every man has 
 the war fever. They never meet now, but 
 to drill and study tactics, and the ladies are 
 embroidering flags, and getting ready lint 
 and bandages all the time." 
 
 ''Then things must have changed much 
 of late," replied Charles. "Why, none of 
 you contemplate seriously the beginning of 
 a civil war? This is all mere fuss to 
 frighten the North !" 
 
Differences. 255 
 
 "Mere fuss I" cried Armistead. **Tbe 
 North will not find it so. I tell you 
 Charles, there will be war ! Had you not 
 been from home so long, you would not 
 doubt it for a moment. Every old sword 
 and gun in the county has been fished out 
 and furbished up, and our people are drill- 
 ing with an enthusiasm and a perseverance 
 that speaks for the strength of their opin- 
 ions." 
 
 "Well, you know Harry, there has al- 
 ways been more feeling on these subjects 
 in the border States. I don't think the 
 great Southern States will join in any 
 movement of the sort. Their prosperity 
 depends too much on peace." 
 
 " They will sacrifice their prosperity and 
 their very life ere they give up this cause ! 
 You have received your opinions from 
 Northern sources. The North wont be- 
 lieve us, often as we have re-iterated our 
 threats. They wont believe us until we 
 thunder at their gates." 
 
 "Pshaw! leave bombast at home. Can 
 it really be so serious as you represent ?" 
 
 "Charley, I swear to you it is bloody 
 earnest this time! What do you think I 
 have come to New York for ?" 
 
 " To see the sights. To enjoy yourself." 
 
 Armistead rose, and neared his lips to 
 Charles' ear: 
 
 " I have come to purchase arms for our 
 people!" 
 
 The other leaped up in great surprise : 
 
 "Has it come to this?" he said. "Are 
 
256 Differences. 
 
 you already preparing to take the field 
 
 with a military force?" 
 
 " I have come to purchase arms for the 
 officers and men of our battalion. We are 
 all organized, and await but the word." 
 
 " All of Claiborne County?" 
 
 *' No. The adjoining counties have united 
 with us, and our part of the State will not 
 furnish the worst troops, I warrant you." 
 
 Charles hung his head reflectively. 
 
 " And now," resumed the other, " let me 
 ask you, what keeps you in New York. I 
 am taking an unwarrantable right per- 
 haps, but my friendship for you will jus- 
 tify it." 
 
 " I can't tell you Harry. I wish I could." 
 
 "Is it business? You needn't define 
 of what sort." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Is it mere pleasure then ? Tell me." 
 
 "Pleasure!" and Charles smiled sadly. 
 " No !" 
 
 " You don't look as if it were. You are 
 not dissipating then ?" 
 
 " Harry !" 
 
 "I beg your pardon. But I must ask 
 further." 
 
 " It's of no use, I can't tell you." 
 
 " Is it a woman ? Charles, is it a 
 woman ?" 
 
 " I can't tell you Henry." 
 
 There was a pause. Then Armistead 
 moved his chair around, and laid his hand 
 on Goldman's shoulder. 
 
 " But I can tell you, Charles, that you 
 
Differences. 257 
 
 must go home. You look sick. Your face 
 is thin and sallow, your eyes look like 
 those of a man who has been unfortunate. 
 I don't know what has happened to you, 
 but I know if you stay here, you will fall a 
 victim to dissipation or melancholy." 
 
 ** In other words, I will be a drunkard or 
 idiot!" said Charles angrily. "But," he 
 continued after a while, ** you may be 
 right, Harry." 
 
 " There is another reason." 
 
 "Well, speak on," replied Charles weari- 
 ly, as the other stopped. *' Don't you see 
 it, yourself?" 
 
 " Oh, for heaven's sake, don't put me to 
 the trouble of thinking. What is it ?" 
 
 " Because you are one of us, and your 
 place is in our ranks ! Every thing that 
 the North has done to us, it has done to 
 you. Charles, you were born in the South, 
 you live there, and by God, you must fight 
 for the South," 
 
 " I don't see it quite so." 
 
 " If our slaves are freed, your's will be 
 all the same." 
 
 " I don't care." 
 
 "TJiatmay be so. You can free them 
 yourself, if you choose. But you can't sur- 
 render the privileges of your country, or 
 see it attacked and stand calmly by." 
 
 " I can't help feeling an inclination to do 
 as you say." 
 
 " For God's sake, give way to it. You 
 are living a purposeless life here. Come 
 away with me, come home !" • 
 
 " 17 
 
258 Differences. 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Do your duty like a man! Who doesn't 
 stand by the South in this fight -will be 
 branded as a coward and traitor all his 
 life. Charley, I'd rather cut off my right 
 hand than deny its service to my country, 
 when she demands it, right or wrong !" 
 
 *' That's queer doctrine !" 
 
 " It's the only doctrine to work by. Sink 
 your individual opinion in the desires of 
 the nation, and work for the good of the 
 whole. Pledge me, Charley, in a glass of 
 champagne." And he touched the bell. 
 
 A waiter appeared. 
 
 " Champagne. Bring it at once, and put 
 ic^ in the glasses." 
 
 In a few moments the goblets were full 
 of the foaming beverage. 
 
 *' Kow" clink glasses," cried Armistead. 
 
 They did so, and a bell-like sound mark- 
 ed the contact. 
 
 *' The South, right or wrong!" said 
 Harry. 
 
 "The South, right or wrong!" replied 
 Charles. 
 
 They finished their glasses at a draught, 
 and'shook hands on it. 
 
 "When do you return?" inquired 
 Charles. 
 
 " Day after to-morrow. As soon as I 
 have shipped my wares," replied Harry. 
 " And now let us return to the Academy. 
 It will be long ere I again will hear an 
 opera there, unless we should take New 
 York by storm. Will you accompany me ?" 
 
Differences. 259 
 
 " Yes— now to the Academy, and day af- 
 ter to-morrow to Tennessee." 
 
 So they re-entered the Opera House. The 
 cnrtain had just risen upon the fourth act. 
 Miss Hinckley was singing on the dark- 
 ened stage Leonora's song of passion and 
 tender despair, in front of Manrico's prison. 
 With tremulous sorrow she sounded the 
 expiring notes, and immediately, melting 
 together with her last thrill, rose Brignoli's 
 voice, sweet as a nightingale's, in that 
 marvelous prison song, which is one of 
 Verdi's clief cVoevres. The audience was 
 ■ spell-bound. Every eye was riveted on the 
 stage but one. 
 
 Charles Goldman looked at Emma. The 
 song had entered his soul. That melan- 
 choly Addio Leonora, so tender and so full 
 of sadness, expressed the griefs, and yearn- 
 ings, and passions of her own heart. His 
 eyes grew moist, and when by chance 
 Emma, whose feelings had also been 
 stirred by the character of the music, 
 glanced up and saw him, he kissed the tips 
 of his fingers with passionate emotion. 
 She blushed and bowed her head. 
 
 *' Let us go," said Charles, pulling Arm- 
 istead's sleeve. 
 
 " Not now. The opera is almost over. 
 Wait." 
 
 So they waited. And then Charles was 
 complaisant enough to linger in the foyer, 
 and give his friend an opportunity of be- 
 holding the fashion of New York. 
 
 On they came, in silks and satins, with 
 17* 
 
260 Differences. 
 
 flowers in their hair and fans in their 
 hands, with silliness and folly in their 
 heads, those leaders of the bo7i ton, and 
 their obedient followers. It was a splendid 
 show, and delighted the heart of the young 
 Tennesseean. Presently the DeWolfs 
 passed. 
 
 " Where is the delinquent?" said the 
 young lady, smiling. " Give bail for your 
 ai^pearance." 
 
 "Forgive me," replied Charles. "And 
 let me ask you to put ofif my trial for a 
 long time, since I must return South day 
 after to-morrow." 
 
 "Return South? Spring is almost here, 
 when the birds come back from there. 
 Must you go?" 
 
 "I must, for danger threatens my nest. 
 Good bye." 
 
 They passed on, and Armistead made 
 the gallant remark : 
 
 " Deuced pretty girl, Charles. Was she 
 the cause?" 
 
 "No, Harry. 'Tis no use guessing. Bet- 
 ter give it up." 
 
 Presently came another division of the 
 crowd, and then the Reichenaus. Emma 
 attended by her father, was almost face to 
 face with Charles. Harry Armistead felt 
 his friend's arm shake and tremble as 
 with the palsy. He grew pale, and leant 
 against the wall for support. Emma gazed 
 at him sadly, and half inclined her head, 
 while Mr. Reichenau bowed. Charles re- 
 turned the salutation with constraint. 
 
Differences. 261 
 
 When they were gone, a lace handkerchief 
 lay on the floor upon v/hich Cliarles 
 pounced, and then followed his friend into 
 the street. 
 
 Harry Arinistead did not put any more 
 questions. He had found the cause. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Charles Goldman returned home, and 
 engaged in military pursuits, with an ea- 
 gerness that betokened great devotion to 
 the qause, or a feverish desire to escape the 
 phiints of memory. In a battalion of cav- 
 alry, which Tourtelotte commanded, he 
 soon distinguished himself sufficiently to 
 be elected to a subaltern's place. And, in 
 truth, he was indefatigable. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Goldman remonstrated with him on the 
 excess of his zeal. But Madame la Gen- 
 erale took i^ride in it. When the mother 
 spoke of her fears, and hoped that active 
 hostilities would not take place, Madame 
 shook her beer-barrel curls energetically, 
 and replied : 
 
 " I know better. There will be war." 
 
 " It is impossible to say so. These things 
 have been before," replied Mrs. Goldman. 
 
 " Pardon me, via chere. I can scent a 
 revolution from afar." 
 
 " If it comes to battles," said the anxious 
 mother, " my son must stay at home. I 
 will not suffer him to be shot at." 
 
 "You can not prevent it, Sarah," replied 
 
262 Differences. 
 
 Madame. " The boy is brave and will go. 
 Cest le sang de monpere, le GcneraU^ 
 
 " Perhaps money might arrange it," sug- 
 gested the father. 
 
 Madame uttered a cry of indignation. 
 "Charles Avould never consent. And I 
 would spit in his face if he could." 
 
 " You wish to have my boy killed then, 
 my beautiful boy," cried the mother, 
 " since you encourage these ideas?" 
 
 " I wish to have the honor of my family 
 preserved," replied the old lady with great 
 stateliness. "If every gentleman in the 
 county fights, Charles must fight, and bet- 
 ter than the rest, because of his great 
 grandfather." 
 
 This silenced all but Mr. Sharp, who 
 suggested that he might serve as quarter- 
 master or cook, and so escape danger; 
 urging that he had served in the latter ca- 
 pacity', and never been exposed. Where- 
 upon all the rest turned against him, and 
 lie was compelled to defend himself or fly. 
 
 In those days Tourtelotte was a frequent 
 guest at Pineland. His connection with 
 Charles was a plausible reason, though 
 Antonia continued to treat him with a 
 friendly kindness and openhearted consid- 
 eration, that banished all hopes of a warmer 
 feeling. Nevertheless he bided his time, 
 and kept alive his hopes with the pertinac- 
 ity of his nature. 
 
 Events were hastening to a crisis. An 
 impulse was given to military activity, 
 which foretold its approach. Drills and 
 
Differences. 263 
 
 parades, the target shootings were of daily 
 occurrence^ And not only did these call 
 the men out, but the ladies were regular 
 spectators, and gave a greater degree of 
 animation to the exercises, by the interest 
 they manifested. Madame la Generale 
 was a constant attendant, and Antonia ap- 
 peared frequently on her gray pony ; as 
 much for the pleasure of Charles' escort 
 home, as for witnessing the spectacle. 
 
 It was on one of these returns home. 
 Charles, whose feverish energy had de- 
 serted him, walked his horse through the 
 solemn pine Avood, oblivious of Antonia. 
 But the sister kept at his side, and watched 
 him with an affectionate eye. Finally she 
 broke silence : 
 
 " Brother of mine, there is a care on your 
 mind. Do you grieve still — on account of 
 that New York affair? Charles, confide in 
 me, tell me every thing. Perhaps I can 
 give you comfort." 
 
 The young man smiled sadly. " My own 
 little Antonia, you don't understand any 
 thing of such matters." 
 
 *' You did not always think so," she re- 
 joined gaily. "Do you remember how 
 you consulted me about Miss Quailey, who 
 was ten years older than yourself, and 
 wnth whom you were desperately in love ?' 
 
 "What has become of the old thing?" 
 .asked Charles, laughing. 
 
 " Married, my poor brother. And about 
 Clara Peters, to whom you used to write 
 verses?" 
 
264 Differences. 
 
 "Did I? I was a fool." 
 
 *' No. You were only a boy, like all 
 boys. And how you fought with Harry 
 Arniistead over Nelly Grant, with her red 
 cheeks?" 
 
 *' She is dead, aint she ?" 
 
 " No, only dreadfully pious. Now, in 
 those days I was your confidant, and I 
 could give you advice and comfort. Wont 
 you try me now, Charley ?" 
 
 He hem'ed and haw'ed, and finally 
 thought he would tell her, but only if she 
 promised him true sympathy, and re- 
 frained from being satirical. 
 
 " You know I will," she said ; but could 
 not help adding: "Do you expect me to 
 weep at the touching parts?" 
 
 " There ! That's how you'll sympathize ! 
 And then you'll tell aunt, and she'll mur- 
 der me with her French frivolities." 
 
 " Come Charley. Don't be so touchy. 
 Here's a nice spot. Let the horses pick a 
 litte grass, and we can talk." 
 
 Charles dismounted and let his horse 
 graze. Antonia slackened the rein to give 
 her pony an opportunity of doing the 
 same. 
 
 She had chosen a beautiful corner of the 
 woods. A small lawn, enclosed on every 
 side by trees, already showed tufts of grass 
 and herbage, notwithstanding the early 
 season. Charles came to her side. Taking 
 ofi"his military cap, she gently stroked his 
 sunny hair. For a while he was silent, 
 
Differences. 265 
 
 and then, evidently speaking Mith an ef- 
 fort, said : 
 
 " She is very beautiful. I saw her first 
 at Saratoga. It was at a grand ball, and 
 some of the greatest men in the country 
 were there. She wore a dress of brilliant 
 red silk, and a crown of golden ears of 
 wheat. Her magnificent black hair hung 
 down upon her snowy shoulders, and her 
 eyes blazed with almost royal haughtiness. 
 On any one else this costume would have 
 looked outre, but she is of such proud and 
 dazzling beaut j% that gorgeous colors seem 
 but her appropriate raiment. I was per- 
 fectly bewitched. I got an introduction, 
 and danced a quadrille. It seems as if I 
 were walking on clouds. My heart was so 
 elated, that I spoke and acted without con- 
 sciousness of what I said or did. This in- 
 toxication continued for days. I lived but 
 in her presence. The most delicate atten- 
 tions it was possible to bestow, the most 
 complete devotion any one can manifest, I 
 lavished upon her. Happy that she ac- 
 cepted them. Glad that she tolerated me." 
 
 " Did she not respond in any way," in- 
 quired Antonia. 
 
 " I don't know. She seemed to like me, 
 and to increase in confidence, as we got to 
 know each other better. I was her cava- 
 lier in New York. Her aunt favored the 
 connection. Still she did not manifest any 
 decided preference. I mean that she 
 showed me no more than what could be 
 construed as warm friendship. But I am 
 
266 Differences. 
 
 sure that 1 was working my way into her 
 
 affections." 
 
 "And then?" asked Antonia. 
 
 "And then her father came. I was less 
 fortunate in winning his good graces. He 
 treated me with politeness, but not with 
 the cordiality of friendship. Still, if Emma 
 had accepted me, I do not think he would 
 have refused his consent." 
 
 " Poor Charles ! Was she so obdurate ?" 
 
 " On the contrary. I felt that every day 
 brought us into clever relations. I only 
 hesitated on one account. I feared the ef- 
 fect of telling her that I was not a Chris- 
 tian." 
 
 "Ah, brother of mine, that's the conse- 
 quence of sailing under false colors. You 
 should have told her before you ever were 
 so deeply involved." 
 
 " As if there was such a time! Don't I 
 tell you that I w^as spell-bound from the 
 moment I first beheld her?" 
 
 Antonia smiled, and continued to stroke 
 his hair. But Charles had become moody, 
 and remained silent. Finally the sister 
 asked in her deep, gentle voice : 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 "And then her father came again, and 
 brought some one wuth him. Both were 
 leaving the South on account of the trou- 
 bles. They had become acquainted on the 
 journey, and the old man was so infatuated 
 as to invite this stranger to his house. 
 What more can I tell you? He was a 
 quiet fine-looking man, with an air of dis- 
 
Differences. 267 
 
 tinetion and romance, which captivated 
 Emma. I saw it, I feared it. He did not 
 seem to pay especial attentions to her, and 
 yet she took him into favor more and more. 
 I obtained the consent of our parents, and 
 asked her to be my wife." 
 " And she refused you ?" 
 "She refused me." 
 " Poor Charley." 
 
 " She talked about having a husband of 
 a strong character, who would compel her 
 to his will. And about her ideal of such, 
 and all sorts of romantic fiddle-faddle. 
 And I saw that I had no chance. Especially 
 when she advised me to look for a gentle 
 maiden, while she waited lor her hero." 
 '* That was too bad." 
 
 " And while I tried to bring her to reason, 
 her father's friend came toward the house. 
 She saw him, and broke off immediately, 
 Avhile manifesting the greatest joy at his 
 approach. That told me how matters 
 stood, and I left at once." 
 *' Are they married ?" 
 •* No, not even engaged. But every bf)dy 
 says they will be." 
 
 " And you love her still?" 
 " I shall always love her." 
 And then followed a great silence. At 
 last Antonia, for the sake of saying some- 
 thing, asked : 
 
 *' Is this favored suitor unworthy of 
 her?" 
 "I don't know. I can't say any thing 
 
268 Differences. 
 
 against him. But I believe that be marries 
 
 Emma for her money." 
 
 " Ah ! You say he has lived South ?'' 
 
 "Certainly. Didn't I tell you? In this 
 county. I think, you must know him. 
 He told me tliat he had been our guest, Mr. 
 Welland." 
 
 Every shade of color left the young lady's 
 cheeks. Her sea- blue eyes gave one ag- 
 onized glance at Charles, and then stared 
 far away into the distance, where the 
 golden sun was preparing to set. Golden 
 gleams fell on the tips of the pine branches, 
 and swept across the little lawn, between 
 bars of lengthened shadow. A few birds 
 chirjjed their evening song, and for the 
 rest, all was quiet. Charles buried in his 
 reflections, and Antonia in her's. 
 
 In a voice, whose cold tremor made her 
 brother raise his eyes, she inquired at last: 
 
 " Are you sure it is the same Mr. Wel- 
 land, who was in this county ? We all 
 knew him well." 
 
 " Yes, I am pretty sure. He said so, and 
 seemed to know the people. What did he 
 do here? I forget." 
 
 "He was a State survej'or. Charley, I 
 believe Mr. Welland is an honorable gen- 
 tleman, and would scarce do what you im- 
 pute to him. Are you sure there is no mis- 
 understanding ? I mean sure that the lady 
 refused you because she preferred him, and 
 that he encouraged that preference ? Per- 
 haps she only rejected your addresses be- 
 cause she didn't know her own mind, and 
 
Differences. 269 
 
 Mr. Welland has nothing to do with it. 
 You say they are not engaged." 
 
 '* No. Not engaged as yet, I said." 
 
 " Nor may ever be. What if you should 
 labor under a mistake, brother?" 
 
 "Antonia," cried Charles, in a ringing 
 voice, " am I likely to make a mistake in 
 such a matter? Oh I am but too sure of 
 the truth of what I told you. Silly little 
 sister, don't you know that I would give 
 my right hand to be able to doubt it?" 
 
 Antonia answered not. The matter was 
 but too plain. 
 
 "It is chilly," remarked Charles. "Let 
 us get home." 
 
 The gray cold of evening settled down 
 upon the earth. Every beam of light, 
 every flake of gold had disappeared. The 
 pines rustled mournfully, and the sad sigh 
 of the breeze swept through the pillared 
 aisles of the wood. 
 
 Suddenly Charles said ; 
 
 " Walk your horse, Antonia. I've some- 
 thing else to tell you. I am sure that there 
 will be a great and bloody w^ar. I did not 
 take much interest in political affairs at 
 first, and would perhaps now be still pining 
 in New York, and feeding on my disap- 
 pointment, had not Harry Armistead 
 roused me to action. As it is, J am glad to 
 find an object which withdraws my 
 thoughts from Emma. I will fight in this 
 war with the best, not only because the in- 
 terests of the State are at stake, and be- 
 cause honor requires me to do so, but also 
 
270 DlFFEREJTCES. 
 
 for another reason. I will show Emma 
 that, though gentle and obedient with la- 
 dies, I have as much of the manly and dar- 
 ing element in me, as her mock hero. I 
 will convince her that Charles Goldman 
 was worthy of her love, though she choose 
 Welland. And Antonia, if a soldier's 
 shroud be my lot, think that I am happy 
 and at peace, and comfort father - and 
 mother." 
 
 " Dear brother, my heart is heavy with 
 grief." 
 
 " What, and all for poor Charley ? Nay, 
 you must spare some of that little heart for 
 Colonel Tourtelotte. Did you know he had 
 been commissioned?" 
 
 Antonia shook her head. 
 
 *' We are brothers in arms, as we have 
 been brothers in mind, and will be broth- 
 ers in law, I hojje," he said, and forced 
 himself to smile archly. But seeing her 
 distressed face, he stopped, and cried : 
 "Nay, 'twas but fun." And then burst 
 into the merry carol of a serenade : 
 
 " If heaven had tongues to speak, as well 
 
 As starry eyes to see, 
 What curious stories it would tell 
 
 Of wandering youths like me! 
 
 Did we but strive for heaven above, 
 
 Half as much as we 
 Sti^ive day and night, for woman's love, 
 
 AVhat angels we should be!" 
 
DlFFEBENCES. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 It was the custom lor Sharp and Antonia 
 to have their contidences about Wel- 
 land. Now and then a mail brought let- 
 ters from him to the mauager, and then 
 there was reading and re-reading. To 
 save the proprieties, they contained not a 
 single w^ord addressed directly to the 
 young lady, except respectful regards at the 
 end. But all the more was their sense ad- 
 dressed to her heart. And old Sharp was as 
 glad as a butterfly,that bears the love tokens 
 of one flower to the petals of the other. 
 
 On the day when Charles related the his- 
 tory of his suit to Antonia, Sharp received 
 a letter from Welland. He waited impa- 
 tiently for the young lady's return to en- 
 tice her Into his rooms, and communicate 
 its contents. But before he could see her, 
 she had retired. Plea, indisposition. When 
 Mrs. Goldman appeared with tender in- 
 quiries, the mulatto girl was bathing her 
 head with ether and water. So quiet and 
 rest were recommended, and the night fell 
 upon one more aching heart at Pineland. 
 
 Aching, but brave. Stricken, but well 
 disciplined. A heart that fought out its 
 battles, and when the combat was over 
 buried its dead, put stones on their graves, 
 and thought of them ever after with quiet 
 sadness. When morning broke the fight 
 was over. All that wild yearning, that 
 craving love, and passionate admiration, 
 all those burning sorrows had been laid 
 
272 Differences. 
 
 and put way, while memory scattered over 
 them the whit« rosebuds of a dead passion. 
 With the golden lights, and the brisk fresh- 
 ness of coming daj'^, Antonia arose, quiet 
 and collected, but wan and sad. Though 
 we prove victor in these combats, we sutfer 
 from our wounds for many days, and carry 
 the cicatrices all our life. 
 
 Sharp met her with a smiling counte- 
 nance. 
 
 "I have a letter from Mr. Welland," he 
 said. 
 
 " And I also," replied Antonia, calmly, 
 " have heard of him yesterday." 
 
 " Ah, has he written to you?" asked the 
 old man, with surprise. 
 
 "No. Mr. Welland has too much savior 
 vivre to indulge in a breach of propriety. 
 Let us drop the subject, please." 
 
 "Drop the subject! Excuse me," he 
 said, detaining her, " do you not wish to 
 hear what he says?" 
 
 " I am not curious," she replied, trying 
 to escape. 
 
 "But I do not understand you." 
 
 " Perhaps you will, vrhen I tell you that 
 Mr. Welland has proved unworthy of the 
 contideuce I foolishly bestowed upon him." 
 
 " It can not be. You are mistaken." 
 
 " Pardon me. We will never speak of 
 this subject any more. I shall break off 
 any conversation with you in which the 
 name of Welland occurs. Remember, this 
 subject is tabood between us." And she 
 swept into the breakfast-room. 
 
Differences . 273 
 
 *' I'll never believe it," said the old man, 
 shaking his little head ; ** still I must try- 
 to fathom this change." 
 
 There was a gathering of ladies in Mrs. 
 Waddlekin's house. All were deep in em- 
 broidery. On three enormous breadths of 
 silk, various figures had been completed 
 by busy fingers. A sheaf of wheat, a plow, 
 and a schooner were most prominent, 
 while the word ** Agriculture" streamed 
 across these in golden letters. It was the 
 coat of arms of Tennessee, which they em- 
 broidered upon the flag to be presented to 
 the — th regiment of cavalry. As a matter 
 of course, tongues were not idle while fin- 
 gers worked. 
 
 " What in the world detains Antonia 
 Goldman !" cried the lady of the house, 
 wiih some irritation. '* We want her to do 
 the gold work on this sheaf of wheat, and 
 we can't well go on until that is finished." 
 
 '* Perhaps the Colonel is explaining tac- 
 tics to her," said Mrs. Smockley, mali- 
 ciously. 
 
 " Which is much more proper than his 
 explaining them to married ladies, in my 
 opinion ma'am, if I may be so bold as to 
 ofler an opinion," returned Mrs. Waddle- 
 kins, to th-e general delight of all. For 
 Tourtelotte had paid pointed attentions to 
 the handsome and vulgar Mrs. Smockley, 
 and every lady felt slighted and scandal- 
 ized thereat. * 
 
 " I don't know what you refer to ma'am," 
 
 18 
 
274 Differences. 
 
 returned the other. " I was not speaking 
 
 of the Quartermaster." 
 
 This was a dig at Mrs. Waddlekins, in 
 whose house Hassel, Quartermaster ol the 
 new regiment, lived. 
 
 " Let us drop the matter," urged Mrs. 
 Oglethorpe. " Every body knows that the 
 Colonel and Miss Goldman are as good as 
 engaged. And therefore," she continued, 
 after a while, '^ I think it would be best to 
 have Antouia Goldman present the flag. 
 What do you think, ladies?" 
 
 Thereupon a great discussion arose. 
 
 Mrs. Waddlekins stretched out her arm, 
 in the usual orational manner, and said 
 with immense dignity : 
 
 "Ladies, the presentation of this flag 
 will be an event of no small importance in 
 the history of our country. Don't think 
 that it is a town, or a county afiair, or even 
 a State matter. It is an act that will be 
 noticed in the furthest corners of the land, 
 and in the most distant isles of the sea ! 
 Yea, in the most distant isles of the sound- 
 ing seal" 
 
 "Nobody says it wont," returned old 
 Miss Quizzens, whom, after the manner of 
 public speakers, Mrs. Waddlekins had 
 fixed with her eye, and who therefore felt 
 it incumbent on her to deny any disagree- 
 ment with the assertion. 
 
 " Don't interrupt me, ma'am, if you 
 please^^^ said Mrs. Waddlekins, crushing 
 the other with a majestic wave of the hand. 
 
Differences. 275 
 
 *' I I'cel the full importance of this act," she 
 continued, laying her fingers ujdou her 
 billowy bosom, "and therefore I submit 
 to you ladies, whether it would not be bet- 
 ter to choose a matron, whose family has 
 historical associations with our great men, 
 and whose ancestors have lived and died 
 in Claiborne Countj^, to present this flag to 
 our valiant warriors? I ask you ladies, 
 all of you ?" and once more she fixed the 
 unfortunate Miss Quizzens with her eye. 
 
 But Miss Quizzens was not to be tempted 
 to her destruction again. She bore the 
 glance, and closed her lips tightly. 
 
 As only Mrs. Waddlekins answered to 
 the description given, every one felt that to 
 oppose it would be to the signal for battle. 
 So there was a deep pause. But the arch 
 enemy slept not. Mrs. Smockley mustered 
 her forces. 
 
 "If it must be a matron with all those 
 historical thing-um-bobs," she said, inno- 
 cently, " it can only be Mrs. Armistead." 
 
 " There are ladies in the county whose 
 claims are of a prouder nature than Mrs. 
 Armistead's," the old lady replied, bitterly. 
 "-But persons who talk about historical 
 ihing-iim-bobs, can recognize no claims but 
 those of the minions of fortune." 
 
 "Minions of what?" returned Mrs. 
 Smockley. " What are minions ?" 
 
 " Ma'am," cried Mrs. Waddlekins, " my 
 conversation was not addressed to j'ou." 
 
 " Have the goodness to hand me some 
 
 18* 
 
276 Differences. 
 
 cotton then, to stop my ears," retorted the 
 
 other. " I shall be the better oflf." 
 
 *' Ladies," said Miss Allen, ''this wont 
 do. Don't quarrel. I think, myself, it is 
 the custom for a young lady to present a 
 flag." 
 
 "Not at all," said Mrs. Waddlekins. 
 " My grandfather often related how the 
 General had told him, that Lady Washing- 
 ton presented a flag to one of the regi- 
 ments. And in Baltimore there was a lady 
 of seventy, embroidered and presented a 
 flag to a militia company. Think of it la- 
 dies, this matter will be discussed in the 
 newspapers. When our flag flaunts in the 
 van of battle," and she raised her arm in 
 the manner of Washington upon the pic- 
 ture, " the world will ask : Who presented 
 it? And what will you answer?" She 
 again gazed tauntingly at Miss Quizzens, 
 but that cautious old damsel taking warn- 
 ing by her former fate, maintained an im- 
 perturbable silence. "I ask again, what 
 will you answer?" she cried, still tempting 
 the venerable maiden. 
 
 It was more than she could bear. "I 
 wish you wouldn't ask me, if you dorf't 
 want no answer," she said, sharply. "And 
 I wish you wouldn't look at me in that way 
 ma'am. I am not a hungry cassowary." 
 
 "You will answer," continued the 
 speaker, heedless of the interruption, 
 " ' Antonia Goldman.' And the world will 
 ask : Who is Antonia Goldman ? There is 
 
Dipfi:rences. 277 
 
 no such name interwoven with the history 
 of this hind." 
 
 " I don't care if there isn't," said Miss 
 Allen. " She will look best, and speak 
 best, and that's the main thing. If you 
 are so bent to be there Mrs. Waddlekins, 
 you can accompany her." 
 
 "I don't desire any thing for myself," 
 said that modest lady. " I merely wish to 
 preserve the honor of the town." 
 
 " We might all go there in a body," sug- 
 gested another, "and a committee can 
 carry the flag, and Miss Goldman make 
 the speech." 
 
 This opinion met with general approval, 
 and after some further discussion, was 
 adopted. When Antonia arrived, the result 
 was communicated to her. 
 
 " Though if you don't like to," added 
 Mrs. Waddlekins, "I think my daughter 
 or mj^self might do it, to please you." 
 
 "Thank you," replied Antonia. "I 
 shall be happy to accej^t the office, and 
 only hope that I may be able to do. it jus- 
 tice." 
 
 " Are you not afraid of your courage fail- 
 ing you at the last moment, child?" asked 
 Miss Hopstring. " I remember that I was 
 taken to a donation party by my father, 
 when about twelve years old. It was at 
 home in Xewburyport, and our new minis- 
 ter had just moved into the parsonage. 
 Father hitched up his horses, and gave me 
 a big dish to carrj^ into the house, and saj'- 
 to the minister : * Mother's sick^ sir, but 
 
"278 Differences. 
 
 she sends her dutiful compliments.' I car- 
 ried it in, and came right up to the minis- 
 ter, and when he looked at me with his se- 
 rious eyes I got frightened and dropped the 
 dish, and burst into tears, and ran out of 
 the house." 
 
 " Do not be uneasy about me Miss Hop- 
 string," said Antouia. " I shall neither 
 drop the flag, nor burst into tears, nor 
 run." 
 
 The day of the presentation had arrived. 
 Upon the green of S^'camore, which, as in 
 all small towns is exceedingly ample, a 
 battalion of cavalry was assembled. This 
 battalion Tourtelotte had formed, and it 
 was the only part of his regiment yet or- 
 ganized. The magnificent trees that en- 
 closed the green arched their young-leaved 
 branches over the numerous beholders 
 whom curiosity or patriotism there assem- 
 bled. A platform had been erected at one 
 end, upon which the speaker, committee of 
 presentation, and as many more ladies as 
 it could accommodate, were to be placed. 
 Carriage after carriage drove up and de- 
 livered its fair load. Soon the platform 
 was crowded. Around the green were 
 ranged vehicles from half a dozen of the 
 neighborhood counties. This ceremony 
 had assembled a greater number of stran- 
 gers at Sycamore than the old town had 
 ever contamed. 
 
 In front of the platform, the sides of 
 which were tastil^^ concealed by young 
 pine trees, was a flight of steps bordered 
 
Differences. 279 
 
 by the same, and overarched with branches. 
 Upon the highest of these steps stood An- 
 tonia Goldman, and three ladies bearing 
 the new flag. Anton ia was dressed in 
 brilliant blue silk with a red scarf, the 
 colors of the regiment, which was uni- 
 formed in bluejackets turned up with red. 
 Her sunny hair was covered with a chip 
 hat, from which descended a long white 
 plume. Mrs. Waddlekins, who was one 
 of the three flag-holders, aired her immor- 
 tal black satin, that would only hook on 
 top, and Miss Oglethorpe, her colleague, 
 had on a wonderful garment of brimstone 
 hue. All the rest of the ladies were in 
 bright, lively colors, and the platform pre- 
 sented a picture which for brilliancy of 
 tints could not well be excelled. 
 
 Now the bugles sounded, and the battal- 
 ion began to drill. Right— left— forward— 
 halt-guard against infantry— guard against 
 cavalry — wheel — and so on. At last 
 •* charge !" — and as the whole front with 
 drawn sabres came galloping on uttering 
 fierce yells, every beholder's heart beat 
 higher, and there was none there believed 
 that a Northern line could resist such a 
 charge. Finally they were gotten into or- 
 der again, and mustered into line. The 
 usual parade formula was gone through 
 with, and when the battalion presented 
 arms, the Colonel, accompanied by his 
 staft', advanced to a point several paces 
 from the steps of the platform. The pres- 
 entation committee, with Antonia, de- 
 
280 Differences. 
 
 scended, and the latter advancing, said in 
 a deep voice, clear as a bell : 
 
 ** Colonel : In the name of the ladies of 
 our county, I have the honor to present 
 your regiment with this flag. We know- 
 that j'ou will guard it, and defend it. We 
 know that you will honor and love it. May 
 it lead j^ou to victory, and freedom. May 
 it droop gently over the graves of those 
 destined to fall in the holy cause, and 
 flaunt bravely in the eyes of the living, 
 who will return after the heroic fight. 
 Colonel, our hearts are with you. When- 
 ever you cast your eyes upon this flag, re- 
 member, that the women of the South ac- 
 company you with their i:)rayers, and when 
 you strike a blow for yourselves, like val- 
 iant knights, strike another for your la- 
 dies' sake. The God of right and justice 
 be with you." 
 
 Tremendous applause followed this 
 speech, and Tourtelotte responded to it by 
 a harangue, full of burning patriotism and 
 grandiloquent assertions. The band, which 
 was in attendance, came in with " Dixie," 
 the " Marseillaise Hymn," and other ap- 
 propriate tunes, and the ceremony was 
 over. The flag was handed to its appro- 
 priate bearer, and the regiment marched 
 oflf with its silken folds waving over it in 
 the sighs of the breeze. 
 
 As the Goldmans drove home, Tourte- 
 lotte and Charles galloped up, and took po- 
 sition on either side of the carriage. Tour- 
 telotte was in high spirits. He over- 
 
Differences. 281 
 
 whelmed Antonia with compliments ou 
 her speech. 
 
 *' You looked like an inspired priestess 
 while delivering it," he said. '• The pink 
 in your cheeks deepened to crimson, and 
 the brilliancy of your eyes obscured their 
 color." 
 
 " I felt what I said/' returned Antonia, 
 calmly, " But I was truly nervous. Mrs. 
 Waddlekins loomed up at my side con- 
 tinually, and did not cease to ply me with 
 advice and suggestions." 
 
 " Did you feel what you said when you 
 promised that your hearts shoi:ld be with 
 us?" 
 
 " 1 did," she replied ; " but don't assume 
 a sentimental tone on that account, please." 
 
 " Give me leave for one moment. I may 
 rely on your heart being with me then ?" 
 
 " With you and with all that fight brave- 
 ly. But especially with you and Charles." 
 
 " Does that imply that you will not give 
 your heart to any one else while we are 
 away from home, fighting for the South," 
 he asked, with some anxiety. 
 
 " I give you leave to interpret it so," she 
 replied. "And when you return victori- 
 ously from the fields where you have 
 fought for our rights and our liberty, when 
 you come back with honorable laurels 
 twined round your sword, then Frank 
 Tourtelotte— " she paused with some con- 
 fusion. 
 
 "Then," he repeated. "For God's sake 
 speak on!" 
 
282 Differences. 
 
 '* Then," she continued, the bright crim- 
 son mantling her cheek, and the brilliant 
 fire returning to her eye, " that heart may 
 be given wholly into j^our keeping, and — " 
 
 "And,'' repeated Tonrtclotte, bending 
 down to his horse's neck, his face irradiated 
 with uncontrollable joy, and his voice 
 hoarse with deep emotion, " and?" 
 
 " And something else added to it," she 
 said, firmly, holding out her small wliite 
 hand to him. 
 
 He seized it and covered it with passion- 
 ate kisses, which she suffered without re- 
 buke. 
 
 All this time they wei-e driving on, and 
 Charles kept the attention of the others 
 fixed on his side of the carriage. At least 
 folks pretended not to notice any thing. 
 Thus they arrived at Pineland. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 It M^asa quiet, drowsy afternoon. Clouds 
 covered the sky. The atmosphere was 
 damp and heavy. The rain, which de- 
 scended occasionally, fell without noise. 
 One of those afternoons which turn people 
 of gay temper serious, and the serious mel- 
 ancholy. When dull reading matter and 
 sleep prove the only possible pastimes, un- 
 less wine and cards are resorted to. 
 
 Welland was with Emma Reichenau — 
 tete-a-tete for the first time since the after- 
 noon when she had refused Charles Gold- 
 
Differences. 283 
 
 man. He was about to tell her his histor}-, 
 a relation Avhich she dreaded. It had been 
 put off once or t^vice, and in fact she had 
 endeavored to escape it altogether. But 
 Wellaud, with the utmost politeness and 
 delicacy, yet with sufficient persistence, re- 
 turned to the subject again and again. It 
 was natural that he should do so. For the 
 history of the past year furnished the key 
 to his conduct toward her, and their rela- 
 tions could never again rest uj^on the basis 
 of sincere-! friendship, until she was ac- 
 quainted with it. 
 
 Emma's cheek was tinged with a fever- 
 ish flush ; she sent fitful glances to every 
 object in the room, except Welland. His 
 face and eye she avoided. Being in a meas- 
 ure compelled to hear his history, she T?7as 
 stung to feverish irritation by the con- 
 sciousness that it was to serve as an ex- 
 planation of his rejection of her hand. She 
 acknowledged to herself that this was the 
 plain fact. Welland had evaded her ad- 
 vances, and her pride, modesty and reserve 
 had been alike sacrificed in vain. But all 
 the more eager was she to carr^'- on that 
 method of transparent deception which 
 people call keeping up appearances, and 
 without which the wheels of society would 
 not revolve smoothly. True, nobody is de- 
 ceived, but every one pretends to be. By 
 this mutual concession, meddlers are kept 
 at a distance, and prevented from touching 
 our raws. But so are friends also who 
 might apply healing balm to them. No 
 
284 Differences. 
 
 matter; we prefer to leave our sores to 
 Time, whose finger is the only one that can 
 touch them, without making them smart. 
 
 Thus Emma bad received Welland with 
 great liveliness, and now endeavored to 
 make her conversation as sprightly as pos- 
 sible, which attempt was aided by her co- 
 quettish dress. 
 
 " I was born in the Palatinate," he began, 
 *• a province, every hill of which is a vine- 
 yard, and every plain a patchwork of fields 
 in the highest state of cultivation. In 
 fact," he added, with moist eyes, " a per- 
 fect garden of God." 
 
 " You resemble the Turks, who are said 
 to locate Paradise directly above Mecca — 
 with coffee for nectar, I suppose." 
 
 " Every man has his Mecca ; my father- 
 land is mine." 
 
 "Were you a remarkable baby," she 
 asked, frivolously. 
 
 " Very," he replied, half entering into 
 her humor. ** The nurse, I am told, de- 
 clared that I was the finest baby she ever 
 saw. But as she was wont to make that 
 observation regarding every new comer, I 
 think I haye been excelled since. This 
 fact demonstrates the constant improve- 
 ment of the human race. 
 
 " My father died early. My mother was 
 the kindest woman in the world." 
 
 " Every one's mother is." She repented 
 as soon as she had said it. 
 
 He looked at her, then returned : 
 
 " I forgive you, for you never knew one. 
 
Differences. 285 
 
 — We lived in a rambling old house, with a 
 garden full of flowers. My most vivid rec- 
 ollections of boyhood are my strolling 
 about that garden at my mother's side, and 
 carrying the flowers she cut, or the fruits 
 she gathered. Often we walked there in 
 the bright moonlight, when the old trees 
 waved their branches mysteriously, and 
 the brook beyond the meadows filled the 
 air with gentle murmurs. Then she talked 
 to me of her favorite poets, and sought to 
 open my mind to the beauties of their sim- 
 pler verses. In this manner my imagina- 
 tive faculties were developed early, and 
 have acquired a power which forces me to 
 keep them under curb continually." 
 
 "Will imagination bear a curb, and 
 live ?" 
 
 " It must bear a curb, if the mind would 
 live. Unrestrained, it carries one to the 
 mad-house. When I left boyhood behind, 
 my mother died." 
 
 Emma cast down her eyes, and was si- 
 lent. 
 
 *' I grieved sadly at the time, and for 
 years the recollection would bring on a 
 paroxysm of sorrow. But I think of her 
 now with calm joy, and I know that she 
 is here at present, and I doubt not, con- 
 scious of all I feel and think." 
 
 " You are giving me a specimen of the 
 powers of your imagination." 
 
 ** True. But this is the imagination of 
 the heart, which men call faith. 
 
 " I was further educated by an uncle, 
 
286 Differences. 
 
 \vho sent me to college, where I passed 
 some of the happiest years of my life." 
 
 " I have heard what sort of stuff happi- 
 ness at college is made of. Drinking, fenc- 
 ing, and perpetratingpractical jokes," said 
 Emma. 
 
 ** The stuff," A'esponded Welland, " which 
 it is made of everywhere, where wild 
 3'oung fellows, full of life and mischief, 
 congregate." 
 
 " Oh, how I should like to be among 
 them ! That's unfeminine, aint it? But 
 the wish came from the bottom of my 
 heart," returned Emma. 
 
 '• I was still at college," resumed the 
 other, " when the revolution of '48 broke 
 out. It assumed the best shape in those 
 . provinces that were washed by the waves 
 of the Rhine. There the inhabitants in- 
 herit the warlike spirit of their ancestors, 
 whose position, on the borders of France, 
 involved them in every quarrel between 
 the two countries. At the sam time they 
 are a wine-drinking jDopulation, and pos- 
 sess manj' traits of the French. Thither 
 flocked the students. There was I. We 
 fought in vain, but we fought gallantly." 
 
 "And what did you fight for ?" 
 
 " For liberty. For an ideal that can not 
 be realized. We aimed so high that the 
 impossibility of success was self-evident. 
 We based our ideal on the virtue and con- 
 stancy of men." 
 
 " And found that those qualities existed 
 only among women?" 
 
Differ ENCEs. 287 
 
 " We presume that they have them," re- 
 plied Welland, bowing, " unless they have 
 departed altogether from this world. To 
 continue — one of my last acts previous to 
 the breaking up of the revolutionary army, 
 was an expedition to intercept a party ot 
 soldiers, who were convoying a large sum 
 in specie of Government funds. This being 
 the property of the enemy, was a jDroper 
 prize, as our treasury was sadly exhausted 
 at the time. I acted under orders ±rom the 
 Commanding General. We succeeded in 
 getting the money, and were hastening 
 back to camp. But our army had retreated. 
 Compelled to follow with great caution we 
 marched two days, forcing our roundabout 
 way through the woods, and keeping as 
 concealed as possible. On the second day 
 we were compelled to bury the iron box 
 containing the money, and divide in 
 smaller parties to reach our people. The 
 next day a considerable force was sent, 
 which drove back the enemy's cavalry, and 
 endeavored to secure the money. It was 
 gone. The pit was there, the box had dis- 
 appeared." 
 
 "What bad luck," exclaimed Emma, be- 
 ginning to take interest. 
 
 *' It was the first great misfortune of my 
 life," replied Welland, " since the death of 
 my mother — if I can call it a misfortune, 
 that an angel should be removed to heaven. 
 The misfortune lay somewhat in the fact 
 that I belong to a nation which all the 
 
288 Differences. 
 
 world is ever ready to susjxjct of dishon- 
 esty." 
 
 *' They did not suspect you ? How could 
 they!" 
 
 *' Many did not. Some did. Though by 
 the evidence of my men I proved it to be 
 impossible for me to have returned to the 
 place where the money was concealed, yet 
 they did not dismiss their suspicions alto- 
 gether, simply because I was a Jew." 
 
 *'A Jew!" she cried, with ill-concealed 
 surprise. " Impossible." 
 
 " And yet true. A veritable descendant 
 of the wearers of yellow rags, that were 
 hunted throughout Europe by every race 
 on the continent; and as such, claiming 
 and taking social equality with all, not as 
 a favor, but as a right." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Emma, with some 
 confusion. *' The name shocked me. We 
 are apt to halt at a name, though we accept 
 the idea." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Welland 
 ironically. " I never thought of mention- 
 ing this before, as you never told me what 
 persuasion you belonged to." 
 
 "But you are not " — a thought flashed 
 upon her mind. Perhaps that was the rea- 
 son of his indifference to her advances. 
 He thought that she would disdain to 
 marry a Jew. It was a little odd. But 
 what cared she for his religion. Oh, how 
 could she find out? He must finish the 
 history of his life, and if religion prove the 
 only obstacle, why — 
 
Differences. 289 
 
 With an eagerness that surprised Wel- 
 lanri she urged the continuation of his tale. 
 
 " Immediately afterward, our army was 
 defeated and scattered. It was " sauve qui 
 peuV^ I fled to Switzerland, and later to 
 Paris, and finally to the United States. In 
 the meantime, my patrimony, which was 
 quite considerable, was seized by the Gov- 
 ernment to idemnify the treasury. Fortu- 
 nately it exceeded the sum captured. I 
 was tried in my absence and condemned 
 to imprisonment and hard labor, but have 
 been pardoned since. Upon my pardon 
 being granted, restitution was made of all 
 that remained of my property, after satis- 
 fying the treasury. Thus I can not com- 
 plain of the Government," 
 
 "Is this all?" inquired Emma impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 "Are you tired? Excuse me, I have 
 been tedious perhaps." 
 
 " No, no. Go on." And her eyes, full of 
 the old charm, fastened upon his counter- 
 nance. Her lips half opened, and the 
 warm breath she exhaled seemed to touch 
 his cheek. Again magnetic currents swept 
 over him, and he grew confused and re- 
 mained silent. 
 
 " I must hear all," she repeated. '' Or 
 have you done ?" 
 
 " I have not done," he replied, continu- 
 ing with an eflbrt. " I came to New York. 
 Some time I devoted to get acquainted with 
 the New World. Some more in endeavor- 
 ing to find out what I could do with my- 
 19 
 
290 DlFFEREI^CES. 
 
 self. An old college friend, whom I 
 chanced to meet, said : * Carve out a for- 
 tune for yourself in America ? No Wel- 
 land, you are not stupid enough, and ignor- 
 ant enough, and thiek-skirmed enough to 
 succeed in that." I found him correct to 
 some extent. With mj^ means I might 
 have engaged in mercantile pursuits with 
 advantage, but my ideas v/ere too aristo- 
 cratic, my sensibilities too acute to trade 
 with profit to myself. Besides, I felt an 
 unconquerable aversion to commerce. 
 Label it with the grandest words, identify 
 it with the greatest benefits to humanity, 
 the simple working of it always remains a 
 disposing of goods to advantage, a deception 
 of another for your own profit. I know 
 that I am expressing the impracticable 
 ideas of a class that is passing away, but 
 still they were my ideas at the time." 
 "Welland had recovered his composure. 
 Emma grew listless and heaved an impa- 
 tient sigh. 
 
 '* What then ?" she asked languidly. 
 
 " Then I turned to the studies I had pur- 
 sued without an idea of turning them to 
 practical use. I bethought me which 
 might answer best for employment. I sur- 
 veyed land, instructed in methamatics, and 
 wrote articles for the papers. My success 
 was satisfactory. But I never cared to 
 earn more than I needed. Thus years 
 passed. I had few social ties in this large 
 city. There was no house where I could 
 meet those of my class exclusively, and I 
 
Differences. 291 
 
 would not associate with the ignorant or 
 ill-bred, I was too much of a German for 
 that. Finally I yearned to leave New 
 York. The South attracted me most. I 
 hoped to find there what I had heen com- 
 pelled to abandon in the old countr3^ I 
 had some friends who procured me an ap- 
 pointment in Tennessee, and thither I 
 went." 
 
 " And after a few months you left there 
 to return to New York. Is not that all?" 
 asked Emma. 
 
 "Not quite," replied Welland. While in 
 Tennessee I was hospitably received by a 
 family, one member of which you are ac- 
 quainted with. I refer to Charles Gold- 
 man's parents. I was their guest more 
 than once. In their house I felt perfectly 
 at home. For the first time during my 
 sojourn in this country I tasted the sweet- 
 ness of life, as a member of a family I 
 could assimilate with ; I was charmed. I 
 returned often. Cht^rles Goldman has a 
 sister." 
 
 He stopped for a moment. Emma was 
 breathless and expectant. 
 
 "She is like him," he resumed. "An- 
 tonia is beautiful and good. From the first 
 moment I beheld her I was attracted. 
 Every day deepened the impression. But 
 our circumstances are widely different, and 
 I resisted the charm. In vain ; it grew on 
 me. I loved to distraction and told her so. 
 And that sweet angel gave me her heart. 
 We are betrothed. Yes, we are betrothed, 
 19* 
 
292 Differences. 
 
 and I am the happiest man in the world. 
 Oh, if you could hear that deep, glorious 
 voice, see those sea-blue eyes, and notice 
 her graceful, winning ways, you could not 
 help but love her yourself." 
 
 " You forget that my imaginative powers 
 are not equal to yours," said Emma, in a 
 voice hard and cold as ice. 
 
 " Pardon my raptures " — 
 
 But she asked : 
 
 "Do the parents consent? I wish you 
 
 joy-" 
 
 "They know nothing of it, and would 
 object, I fear." 
 
 " Ah ! that is quite romantic. You in- 
 tend then to carry your lady off secretly ? 
 run away with her?", 
 
 " You are pleased to laugh at me." 
 
 *' Why not ? She would not object I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 ** Madame ! Antonia has too much heart, 
 and I too much honor to think of such a 
 measure." 
 
 " Oh, what a couple of scrupulous lovers! 
 T suppose you will be content to live sepa- 
 rate in this life, hoping to meet in the next, 
 where no cruel parents exist." 
 
 " Not quite ; but years may pass before 
 our bands are joined. "What matter, if we 
 love each other?" 
 
 " And is this all you wish to tell me?" 
 
 "I fear I have detained you longer than 
 necessary or pleasant." 
 
 *' Make no apologies. My bird is the 
 
Differences. 293 
 
 only suiTerer. It should have been fed 
 hours ago." 
 
 '* Will you permit me to return on 
 another day and bore j^ou on a different 
 subject?" 
 
 " I can't promise until I have reflected on 
 what you have told me to-day." 
 
 He took his leave, and Emma felt the old 
 weariness creep over her. She leaned her 
 forehead against the window, and looked 
 out upon the drowsy, rainy world. All 
 gray and leaden ; everything heavy and 
 dank. Not a gleam of light, not a speck of 
 brightness. Dull and weary without; dull 
 and weary within. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXir. 
 
 Fort Sumpter had fallen. The first call 
 for volunteers went forth. Civil war was 
 in the land. Both North and South the 
 excitement was immense. So great a pop- 
 ular commotion found no precedent but in 
 that of the French nation at tlie Fall of the 
 Bastile. Men, women and children shar- 
 ed alike in the strong feelings and the deep 
 patriotism brought to the surface by the 
 attempt to tear the country in two. Both 
 sections arose, like rival giants, to enter 
 upon a struggle, which was only to end 
 when half a million of their sons had died 
 a death alike glorious and holy. 
 
 But it is not our intention to treat of the 
 war, except as it concerns , the characters 
 
294 DlifFERENCES. 
 
 of this novel. We will therefore say that 
 Welland, carried away by the enthusiasm 
 w^hich, like a fiery cloud swept over the 
 North, was one of the first to enlist. On 
 account of his previous experience in the 
 revolution of 1848, which Reichenau urged 
 with those in power, his election to a lieu- 
 tenancy was brought about. Thus we see 
 him, the straps on his shoulder, make his 
 /arewell visit to Emma and her father. 
 That young lady had gone to account with 
 herself, after her acquaintance with Wel- 
 land 's history. His pre-engagement to 
 Antonia was a salve to her wounded pride. 
 He had known and loved another before 
 ever seeing her, and honor forbade a swerv- 
 ing from his plighted faith. She could 
 only complain of fate. Calling up the real 
 strength she was capable of exerting, she 
 put down her sentimental attachment to 
 Welland, and behold — when she once put 
 her hand to the work, it was wonderful 
 how little labor was necessary. It was a 
 controversion of all the doctrines about 
 first love, broken hearts, and eternal at- 
 tachments. Perhaps the soil was not deep, 
 and perhaps the feeling had not struck 
 strong roots, but when she seized it with 
 determined hand, out it came, and left her 
 heart-whole. The patriotic excitement of 
 the time served to fill the void, and she 
 grandly flattered herself to have substi- 
 tuted love of country for love of a man. 
 
 So the bands plaj-ed, and the flags 
 waved, and the people shouted, as the regi- 
 
Differences. 205 
 
 ments marched to the dei)ot. And away 
 they went en 7'ouie for the National Cap- 
 ital. 
 
 Welland was accompanied by the negro 
 boy Ned, who had become greatly attached 
 to him. When they arrived in Washing- 
 ton, and got settled in barracks, he was 
 occupied at all hours in drilling not only 
 his own company, but also every other in 
 the regiment. This was not all. There 
 were not a few of his fellow officers who 
 needed the same teaching, and to them he 
 administered it in private as well as possi- 
 ble. 
 
 He had been residing for two weeks in 
 camp when, together with a pleasant letter 
 from Reichenau, he received another from 
 Sharp. With great delight he retired, and 
 after glancing over the ifirst missive put it 
 away, and prepared for reading the sec- 
 ond. 
 
 A chair w-as drawn to the window, and 
 a cigar lighted. Ned pulled off his mas- 
 ter's boots and substituted slippers. Then 
 Welland leaned back, and placing his feet 
 on another chair, reflectively looked at the 
 letter. Slowly he called up in his mind 
 the dapper little figure of the writer, with 
 his sharp looks and kind smile ; then the 
 pine woods and their long green aisles ; 
 then Antoniaon her gray pony; and fin- 
 ished by drawing the little book she had 
 given him from a pocket inside his vest, 
 and fervently kissing it. 
 
296 Differences. 
 
 At last he was in a proper frame of 
 mind, and opened the letter. It ran thus : 
 
 "My dear young friexd: — I am afraid 
 the world is turning craz3'. I look about 
 with astonishment, and can scarce recog- 
 nize in our neighbors the people I have 
 known so long. There is not a soul in Clai- 
 borne County thinks about setting out the 
 crops ; not a man has gone to work. All 
 they talk of is secession, liberty and fight- 
 ing, and other nonsense of this kind. The 
 women are the worst. They jabber twenty 
 times more than they ever did, and neglect 
 their houses to pull lint and embroider 
 flags, and above all, to see the soldiers. 
 Every man is a soldier now, and the mis- 
 erable canaille, instead of being content to 
 leave tomfoolery to the planters, and try 
 to earn an honest living, also spend their 
 time in drilling and marching, and swear 
 'they'll bust up the North.' The very nig- 
 gers are beyond management, and I am 
 sick of my life, in trj'ing to get the Spring 
 work done at Pineland. Of course, there 
 being such a fuss about Northern people, 
 all our Yankee overseers had to leave us, 
 and those w^ere the only ones worth any 
 thing. The Southern men I am able to get 
 want high salaries, and are otf half the 
 time, in the service of the country, they 
 say. As if the service of the country would 
 make the corn grow ! But I dare not say 
 what I think about these things, in fear for 
 life and limb. People are very rough, and 
 there is no protection for a peaceable citi- 
 zen. So I must even howl with the 
 wolves. 
 
 " There has been great rejoicing, and the 
 most abominable firing of cannon over the 
 secession act of the State. It was impossi- 
 ble to go through the streets of Sycamore 
 without risking one's life. Men, boys, and 
 even children handled and discharged fi.re- 
 
Differences. 297 
 
 nrms of all kinds. I never was afraid of a 
 French gun. But these American pistols 
 and ritles are so unsafe, that one can't tell 
 ^yhen thev will go off, and in which direc- 
 tion they'll shoot. Besides, they have the 
 agreeable liiculty of exploding occasion- 
 ally, 
 
 "I don't know why they are going to 
 fight. It they had a king to drive awaj^ 
 there would be some sense in it. Or if they 
 bad a man tit to be made emperor. But as 
 It IS, they are spending their monev in 
 vam, and money enough it will cost, I as- 
 sure you. 
 
 "Our fomily is as bad as the rest. Mrs. 
 Goldman is the only sensible person in the 
 bouse. The others are downright crazy 
 It It were only the children, I should ex- 
 cuse them on account of their yoirth. As 
 for Mr. Goldman, I could excuse him also, 
 on account of his sinful indulgence in every 
 Avhim of the spoiled voung ones. But 
 think my dear friend, Madame la Generale' 
 a lady ot the highest rank, of infinite ex- 
 perience and lofty mind; a lady that has 
 associated with kings and emperors, one of 
 the best patience and r/iombre players in 
 the world— Madame la Generale is crazy as 
 well as the rest. She insists that Charley 
 shall go into battles, and shoot oft' guns 
 and fight with men, and get killed. And 
 she says that he must win laurels. Why 
 must he win laurels ? Who wants laurels? 
 VV h at are they worth ? What shall he do 
 with them, after he has got them ? Give 
 me one sound reason for this absurd de- 
 mand, and I will not say another word 
 When they talk of gloire in France, I can 
 understand. It means the legio7i cChonneur. 
 That's something. When vou wear it in 
 your buttonhole, people pull off their hats 
 and the maire and genscVarmes are polite to 
 you. But here in America? Nonsense. 
 Madame encourages Charley, all she can 
 
298 Differences. 
 
 and to her it will be owing, if a misfortune 
 happens. 
 
 ''Antonia is no better. She has been 
 embroideriug flags, and presenting them; 
 she has pulled all the old rags in the house 
 to pieces for lint, so, that one could not ap- 
 proach her without getting one's clothes 
 full of white threads. That however, has 
 not prevented Mr. Tourtelotte, who is a 
 Colonel now — isn't it ridiculous — from sit- 
 ting with her and very near her too, when- 
 ever he has leisure, which is all the time 
 the soldiers are not drilling. He is the cra- 
 ziest of all. But he knows why. There 
 are debts and mortgages on his estate more 
 than he can ever pay off, and they are all 
 owned by Northern men. It pays for him 
 to be crazy. It's a cheap way of paying 
 debts. He has been very smart in this. 
 But why should we be so? We have no 
 debts or mortgages. Our lands and our 
 crops belong to no Northern men. God 
 knows ! 
 
 "And now I must communicate a queer 
 change in my little Antonia. She pro- 
 claims herself to be a Southern woman, 
 and enters into all the warlike and politi- 
 cal tantrums with feverish excitement. In 
 connection with this. Colonel Tourtelotte 
 occupies a high place in her esteem, and 
 does all he can to augment the violence of 
 her anti-Northern opinions. Charley, who 
 is a friend and devoted admirer of Tourte- 
 lotte, must have inclined Antonia in his 
 favor, and perhaps cried you down to her. 
 I have several times endeavored to get him 
 to speak of you, but in vain. He says that 
 his acquaintance is so slight that he knows 
 almost nothing of you. Antonia has spo- 
 ken of you once and then with ceverity, 
 and forbidden me ever mentioning the 
 subject again. Notwithstanding, I have 
 tried to get at the cause of this change, but 
 unsuccessfully. She will not speak of you, 
 or hear any thing said about you. 
 
 1:HX^ 
 
Differences. 299 
 
 ♦* My dear young friend, this turn has 
 grieved me much. I don't know whether 
 the fault is yours. I do not believe it is. 
 But there seems little chance of settiu" 
 matters right at present. I will risk the 
 utmost to keen Antonia from taking an ir- 
 remediable step, before you have had am- 
 ple opportunity to clenr up the doubts, that 
 seem to have crept between vou two. But 
 that is all I can do. My plans were well 
 liiid, my calculations correctly made, and 
 all would have been brought to a satisfac- 
 tory issue, had not this crazv nation taken 
 it into its head to rebel, or reVolutionize, or 
 at any rate set an excitement on foot, which 
 an honest man could not calculate on. God 
 grant that this state of affairs mav not last 
 long, and then do not lose any tim^ein com- 
 mg to Pineland. I have some difficulty in 
 lorwarding this letter, and do not know 
 when I will be able to hear from you. But 
 write as soon as there is a reasonable 
 chance of the letter reaching me. 
 With great regard, lam 
 
 Your friend and Obd't Serv't, 
 Sellington Sharp." 
 Welland was greatly perplexed by the 
 contents of this epistle. He held the cigar 
 in his hand until it had gone out, and then 
 angrily threw it away. 
 
 "Oh women, women," he cried, "the 
 same all the world over ! Out of sight, out 
 of mind. What if I had acted thus? But 
 no— I am a man. I will hold to my troth 
 until Antonia herself tells me that I must 
 not think of her any more. Oh God !" and 
 he laid his head back upon the chair, and 
 tortured himself with all sorts of fanciful 
 pictures, in which a young lady in a blue 
 habit was carried oflf by a black-haired 
 Creole, while he himself, killed in battle. 
 
300 Differences. 
 
 ■was carried to the grave to the mournful 
 
 sound of muffled drums. 
 
 Ned appeared. It seems that Welland's 
 instructions had been of sonip service, for 
 the negro boy could read a little. He had 
 spelled out the postmark of the letter be- 
 fore Welland's return, and knew it came 
 from Tennessee. Accordingly he was full 
 of expectation. 
 
 When Welland remained silent, Ned 
 took heart of grace, and asked : " Pleard 
 from Massa Sharp, sir?" 
 
 The young man turned impatiently, and 
 said with forced composure : " Yes, Xed. 
 He is well." 
 
 " Don't he write nothing about me, sii*?" 
 
 " Nothing, my bo3% Have you cleaned 
 my sword?" 
 
 "Bright as a tin pan. Don't he Avrite 
 about the family, sir? Nothing at all?" 
 
 •' Yes. He says they are well. Oet my 
 dress uniform ready." 
 
 " All ready, sir. Don't he speak of the 
 ladies, sir?" 
 
 "Yes. They are well. That button is 
 loose, Ned." 
 
 " I'll sow it on in a minute. What ladies 
 do he write about, sir?" he continued 
 while at work fastening the button. 
 
 " All of them. You are sowing it on too 
 high." 
 
 " Just where the old button was. Do he 
 write of the colored ladies?" 
 
 " Of who?" asked Wellaud in great sur- 
 prise. 
 
Differences. 301 
 
 "Of the colored ladies? Those that live 
 in the house." 
 
 "Nothing about them, Ned. Now give 
 me my cap and gloves." 
 
 Ned turned up his eyes, and heaved a 
 deep sigh. " She have forgotten me, sir." 
 
 "Ah?" and Well and smiled involunta- 
 rily. *' Is she pretty ?" 
 
 " She's the beautifullest saddle colored 
 girl in the country, sir. And she have for- 
 gotten me entirely!" 
 
 " Well, don't forget to hand me my cap 
 and gloves." 
 
 The lieutenant left, Ned closed the tent, 
 and then danced a jig to get rid of his rage. 
 The way he pounded the floor, and struck 
 out his elbows, would have made his for- 
 tune in any New England minstrel troupe. 
 It relieved him. He shook his tists at sev- 
 eral imaginary gentlemen of color, whom 
 he suspected of having supplanted him, 
 and then being disturbed by the entrance 
 of the wash-woman, began a flirtation with 
 her over Welland's towels and collars, and 
 consented to overlook the absence ot a 
 handkerchief, in consideration of a kiss to 
 be delivered there and then, which agree- 
 ment was at once carried out to the satis- 
 faction of the contracting parties. 
 
302 Differences. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 Nearly sixteen months had passed. — 
 Bull Run had been fought, and McClellan 
 summoned. The three hundred thousand 
 had marched to Washington. The Virginia 
 mud had been cried down in all the forms 
 of old and new anathemas, while the 
 army was organized and drilled, wait- 
 ing for its subsidence. At last they 
 were embarked and landed at Yorktown, 
 and that brilliantly conceived campaign 
 opened, which failed in the end for want of 
 sufficient support from home. Failed, 
 when within the reach of success, by the 
 rivalry or faint-heartedness of comrades 
 and home officers, and the chivalrous 
 leader was forced to turn back, to save the 
 remnants of his army. Then the mad ca- 
 reer of Pope began and ended, all in a few 
 weeks. The great Virginia General neg- 
 lected not to reap the fruits of his suc- 
 cesses, but led his columns Xorth, into the 
 fields of Maryland and Pennsj'lvania. A 
 popular uprising in the former State was 
 expected. But in vain. With the recall of 
 McClellan, who gathered the fragments of 
 the decimated Peninsular army, and the 
 beaten battalions of Pope around him, the 
 retreat of Lee began. On every road the 
 Union army pressed forward. Horse, foot, 
 and artillery they hurried on from jDoint to 
 point toward that field of glory, where so 
 many were to close their eyes for ever. 
 Maryland seemed enveloped in the coils of 
 
Differences. 303 
 
 a huge serpent, as the continuous columns 
 of dark blue crept forward on her highways. 
 And at last they reached the hills in the 
 North. Several spurs had been crossed in 
 the rich September sunlight, while the 
 shining fields, the silvery springs, and the 
 hazy mountains, woke home feelings in 
 every breast. Frederick City was entered, 
 and the tail of the Southern army trodden 
 on. Onward to Middletown! And now 
 we are at Turner's Gap, which Longsireet 
 holds and means to defend. 
 
 Among those, who on that afternoon hur- 
 ried forward to engage in the combat, was 
 Rodman's division of the 9th Army Corps. 
 This corps had come up from Newbern, 
 then rested at Fredericksburg, and was in 
 a far better condition than many others. 
 They had been ordered to the front. Gen. 
 Rodman with his staff rode in advance of 
 the division. He was conversing with 
 Welland, now a major of a New York regi- 
 ment, on staff duty with him as Assistant 
 Inspector General. They were ordered to 
 send one brigade to the left, and themselves 
 guide the other to a ridge on the extreme 
 right, where Benjamin's battery held a 
 loud conversation with the enemy's guns. 
 Concealed in the woods, they supported 
 this battery. 
 
 The South Mountain range at this point 
 is about a thousand feet above the level of 
 the surrounding country. The irregular 
 and tortuous gap which divides it for over 
 half the height, is still four hundred feet 
 
304 Differences. 
 
 higher than the plains. The highway from 
 Middletovvn passes through this gap. On 
 one side, there rises a boldly-swelling 
 ridge, on the other, two smaller ridges di- 
 vided by a narrow strip of low land. The 
 character of the whole is irregular and 
 rockj'^, and the county road, as well as two 
 country roads passing over the smaller 
 ridges, is frequently'' bordered by low walls 
 of stone. 
 
 One must have been in the mountainous 
 and rocky parts of our country to appreci- 
 ate those stone walls. The materials are 
 found on the spot. The farmer clears his 
 field of flint and bowlders, and heaps them 
 up around it in the shape of a rough wall. 
 The dust flies, the rain falls, the butterflies 
 and birds carry seed, and in time parasite 
 plants spring up that cement the materials, 
 and with a hundred vegetable arms bind 
 each bowlder to its neighbors. The struc- 
 ture is exceedingly firm, yet full of loop- 
 holes, that permit the glance of an eye as 
 well as the barrel of a gun to pass through. 
 We have mentioned that the road was bor- 
 dered by these. But we must not forget to 
 say that they, in many cases, ran between 
 fields, and traversed the land in every di- 
 rection. 
 
 The enemy had taken position in the 
 pass. His batteries enfiladed the county 
 road. Every ridge was loud with the boom 
 of his cannon and the rattle of his mus- 
 ketry. Cavalry was out of the question. But 
 for artillery and infantry this was a proper 
 
Differences. 305 
 
 battle field. General Rodman detached his 
 first brigade and sent it to the right. Wel- 
 land guided it to the proper command- 
 er, and then returned to the ridge, where 
 the second brigade was just taking a cov- 
 ered position in the w^oods, and from the 
 crest of which Benjamin's guns kept up an 
 enfilading fire. The resistance of the en- 
 emy at this point was very strong. They 
 had posted a brigade behind one of these 
 stone walls, where the artillery could not 
 reach them, and from which bullets re- 
 bounded without effect. All the afternoon 
 the efibrts to dislodge them were unavail- 
 ing. Several regiments had tried, and been 
 repulsed with loss. In addition to the 
 other advantages of this position, there was 
 a rocky depression or gorge on the federal 
 side of this stone wall, which made a bayo- 
 net charge if not impossible, at least highly 
 hazardous. 
 
 The points of this position were so clear, 
 that the troops if not positively discour- 
 aged, at least began to regard it as impos- 
 sible to carry the ridge from that side. 
 They commenced to seek cover, and fire at 
 the enemy whenever it was perceived that 
 a head rose above the upper periphery of 
 the stone wall. But these few shots were 
 worse than useless. They did not even 
 prevent the Southern sharpshooters from 
 picking ofl" our artillery men. And thus 
 the afternoon waned. 
 
 It was evident however that the position 
 must be taken. This ridge commanded 
 20 
 
306 Differences. 
 
 the next, both commanded the highwaj^ 
 through the Gap, and the lofty crest on the 
 other side could not be held without pos- 
 session of these. So a new advance was 
 ordered, and new troops came to make it. 
 
 Among these was a western regiment. A 
 regiment that had been formed about a 
 month before in the agricultural districts 
 of Michigan. A regiment that had not been 
 drilled much, or possessed much knowl- 
 edge of tactics and the manual of arms. A 
 regiment that did not keep a very clean, 
 soldierly appearance, or practised that per- 
 fect subordination and regard for military 
 rank which some of our eastern regiments 
 prided themselves on. In short, a regiment 
 of rough, hearty, courageous western men, 
 with sinews of steel and hearts of iron, 
 with spare long-limbed bodies and sun- 
 burnt faces, that knew what they were ex- 
 X^ected to do, and could handle their mus- 
 kets as the hunter of the prairies can han- 
 dle his rifle. 
 
 The aid-de-camp who directed this regi- 
 ment, and the New York troops following 
 it, was struck by a bullet as they emerged 
 from the cover of the woods. At the Gen- 
 eral's suggestion, Welland took his place. 
 
 Forward, march ! Not by quickstep, but 
 slowly they advance, their guns at ready, 
 and their eyes upon the stone w^all. They 
 come on, reserving their fire. Through the 
 crevices of the rocky barrier, flash the guns 
 of the enemy. Here a shot, and there a 
 shot. Here a bullet, and there a bullet. 
 
Differences. 307 
 
 Here a dead comrade, and there a wounded 
 one. No matter. Slowly, composedlj^ 
 and without halt for dead or wounded, 
 their muskets read^^ sighted, and their eyes 
 on the stone wall, they still advance. Now 
 they are at close range. A yell rings 
 through the air. Simultaneously the whole 
 rebel line arises, and a perfect sheet of fire 
 sweeps across the gorge, and is returned at 
 the same moment. A shiver passes through 
 the regiment. For a moment it hesitates, 
 then again advances. The flag has chang- 
 ed hands. He who first bore it, now bears 
 palms above. The front line has changed, 
 and its fragments follow the rear line as 
 best they might. Still onward ! 
 
 Just then it becomes evident that the 
 former manoeuver will be repeated, and in 
 the long run, notwithstanding quick aim 
 and ready fire, the Michigan men will have 
 the worst of it. Accordingly the word is 
 passed : *' Fire as soon as you see their 
 caps." And well thej'- do it. Another 
 yell, another leaping up of butternut suits, 
 and the fire from our valiant westerners 
 flashes in a long line over the crest of the 
 stone wall, and every bullet has found its 
 mark, ere it can be returned. Again and 
 again. Over the rocky fragments, and the 
 entrapping holes in the gorge, still onward, 
 not quickly, but in slow time, and full of 
 deliberation. At last they are at the wall. 
 Now yell, brave soldiers ! Over in hot 
 haste ! With mighty leaps they clear it. 
 The muskets become clubs. The men are 
 20* 
 
308 Differences. 
 
 tigers. They bound upon the flying- rebels, 
 and rend them. The New York Highland- 
 ers come up. A tremendous fire dislodges 
 the enemy, who tries to make a stand 
 against the fragments of the Michigan regi- 
 ment. They retreat, they fly. The ridge 
 is ours ! Almostsirazy with excitement the 
 Michigan men try to follow, and it is with 
 diflficulty they are restrained. One third of 
 the regiment is dead or wounded on one 
 side ot the stone wall, and three hundred of 
 the enemy lie on the other, every one shot 
 through the head. 
 
 A battery is brought up. It clears the 
 next ridge. The pass is enfiladed. A 
 charge sweeps back the columns of Long- 
 street from a position which has become 
 untenable. The ninth corps presses for- 
 ward;over the dead body of Reno they wrest 
 the palm of victory from the reluctant 
 hand of the Southern leader, and the pass 
 and battle of South Mountain are won. 
 
 And where has Welland been during this 
 time? Leading that gallant Michigan 
 regiment — the 17th — until his horse was 
 shot under him. Then he extricated him- 
 self, and as well as his bruises would al- 
 low, moved forward with a few, that had 
 straggled, and posted them on the road to 
 the right of the stone wall. More stragglers 
 gathered, and all were put in such a posi- 
 tion that they could command the road. 
 The wisdom of this arrangement, to guard 
 the position already gained, was immedi- 
 ately evident. A bugle sounded, and a 
 
Differences. 309 
 
 company of the enemy's cjavalry galloped 
 up the road to make a diversion in favor of 
 their infantry, who had not yet given way 
 to the New York 79th. They were allowed 
 to approach ; then Welland commanded 
 ** Fire ! ' The firing was not very accurate 
 or efficient. Still it proved sufficient to in- 
 timidate the cavalry. They halted, and 
 the bugler gave the signal for " Wheel to 
 the right ! March !" They turned and gal- 
 loped off. Yet not all. Two remained on 
 the field. One was a bugler, who lay dy- 
 ing on the roadside, while his horse w^hin- 
 nied over him. The other was a Colonel. 
 His right rein had broken while violently 
 pulling his horse about, and the motion 
 sent the animal in a direction opposite 
 from that intended. Before he recovered, 
 the horse had carried him into Welland's 
 line, and several guns were levelled at him. 
 With a sweep of his sabre he beat them 
 down, but could not turn his horse. He 
 would have been a dead man had not Wel- 
 land commanded his men not to fire. 
 
 " You are ajjrisoner, Colonel Tourtelotte. 
 Dismount!" 
 
 Tourtelotte dismounted, and said, laugh- 
 ing: 
 
 " The fortune of war. Major Welland. I 
 thank you for sparing my life." 
 
 "I was returning a favor, sir. You did 
 as much for me." 
 
 ** Wo may call quits then," and the 
 Southern Colonel followed his escort to the 
 rear. 
 
■]10 Differences. 
 
 Welland held his position till late in the 
 evening. But the point was not ag;ain at- 
 tacked. He stepped up to the poor bugler, 
 who lay with closed eyes, breathing heav- 
 il3\ A bullet had passed through his 
 chest. 
 
 " Can I do any thing for you?" he asked. 
 
 The man groaned. "Are the Yankees 
 whipped ?" he inquired in a low voice, and 
 with difficulty. " Tell me that." 
 
 "They don't happen to be just now, my 
 friend, I guess," said one of the men who 
 had gathered around. '* The whipping's 
 on the other side of the house." 
 
 The dying man opened his eyes. 
 
 " Never mind," he said, with more vigor, 
 '•' the South'll prevail anyhow. God is with 
 
 us 
 
 Welland interfered. *' Have you any 
 message for your friends ?" he asked, kind- 
 ly. " I will take charge of it." 
 
 " You don't catch me," returned the bu- 
 gler. " You want me to give j^ou my love 
 letters, and publish them in your infernal 
 Northern papers. Xo, you don't." 
 
 " Very well," returned the major. " Do 
 as you think best." 
 
 After a while the man handed Welland a 
 small packet, and looking beseechingly at 
 him, said : 
 
 "Don't publish these. Send them to 
 their address, and you may have my mare. 
 I have raised her from a colt," 
 
 " I'll attend to it. Your mare belongs to 
 the Government," said Welland. Pocket- 
 
Differences. 311 
 
 ing the parcel of letters, he mounted her, 
 nevertheless. 
 
 " Take him to a surgeon," he ordered. 
 But it was iinuecessary. He died before 
 they could lift him up. 
 
 Welland now galloped back to Gen. Rod- 
 man, whom he found very nervous. 
 
 *' Where's the 1th Rhode Island ? Where's 
 the 4th Rhode Island?" asked the General. 
 '* I can't tind the 4th Rhode Island." 
 
 Welland accompanied him in his search. 
 The crest whereon Benjamin's battery was 
 placed was densely wooded, and cut up by 
 innumerable paths that crossed and re- 
 crossed each other, so that it was exceed- 
 ingly difficult to follow any direction with 
 consequence. The regiments lay concealed 
 in the underbrush, and it had grown so 
 dark that it was an impossibility to find 
 them, all the more, as the strictest silence 
 had been enjoined. Thus it happened that 
 the General and Ixis staff suddenly emerged 
 from the trees at the bottom of the hill, and 
 found themselves within a few rods of a 
 rebel line. A i>recipitate retreat again car- 
 ried them to the crest, without being able 
 to perceive their own brigade. 
 
 People were busy there. The fev/ miser- 
 able huts that lay in the vicinity were 
 crowded with the wounded and the dying. 
 A one-story house to the right of the road 
 accommodated over fifty. Not only the 
 house, but the front yard was crowded 
 with them. Hospital attendants spread 
 their rubber blankets from tree to tree to 
 
312 Differences. 
 
 keep the chilly dews off. By the light of a 
 tallow candle, which an attendant held, a 
 surgeon was amputating a leg, while sev- 
 eral bloody limbs at his side testified to his 
 past labors. It was a short man, and one 
 of practical sense. He assembled the at- 
 tendants, and picking out three of the vil- 
 est looking, said : 
 
 " To-morrow morning, boys, I want you 
 to go and steal whatever you can lay hands 
 on in the meat line, fish, flesh or fowl. 
 Bring it here. I authorize you to do it." 
 
 Then he sent others to build a fire, and 
 went on dressing w^ounds, and administer- 
 ing whisky or morphine, as the case dic- 
 tated. The hours flew. It was twelve 
 o'clock ere the army could be heard to move 
 on. The heavy wagons with their six mule 
 teams rolled rumblingly over the road 
 that had witnessed such fierce fighting a 
 few hours before. Suddenly the surgeon 
 stepped out of his hovel hospital, and 
 halted one of them. Asa matter of course 
 the whole line, miles of wagons, were com- 
 pelled to halt. 
 
 " I want some coffee, sugar and hard tack 
 out of your wagon," said the medical man, 
 in a decided manner. 
 
 " Can't give you any," w^as the return. 
 " Don't belong to me." 
 
 *' I command you to let me have them for 
 my sick. I'll give you an order, or a re- 
 ceipt." 
 
 " Can't do it, doctor. I don't know you. 
 If you had an order from a General — " 
 
Differences. 313 
 
 ** Very well then. By order of General 
 Humanity I require them. I must have 
 them, and will take them." 
 
 This decided tone, together with the im- 
 mense amount of cursing which arose from 
 the drivers behind, who wanted to get on, 
 decided the soldier, and he resigned a moi- 
 ety of his load to the doctor. In conse- 
 quence, the latter was enabled to present to 
 his wounded a cup of strong coffee at one 
 o'clock at night, and even treat the enemy's 
 folks, who lay weltering in their blood 
 scattered over the wide field, and as yet 
 uncared for, with some of the refreshing 
 beverage. 
 
 Welland slept on the field wrapt in his 
 overcoat, as the General and all his stafif 
 did, and dreamt that Tourtelotte had re- 
 turned to Tennessee, married Antonia, and 
 was relating to her how his life had been 
 saved by the man she had loved and for- 
 gotten. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The sun of Antietam rose. The mists of 
 morning had not yet unveiled the rich 
 September landscape when the boom of 
 cannon saluted the ears of the army. Burn- 
 side's position was on the left, and his 
 corps remained inactive during the greater 
 part of the forenoon. The Commander of 
 the army, not foolhardily risking the safe- 
 ty of the Capital and of Pennsj'lvania and 
 
:U4 Differences. 
 
 Maryland on the issue of this battle, at- 
 tacked in a manner which made failure 
 impossible, if it precluded a complete suc- 
 cess. It must be confessed, ho-v^ever, that 
 this success v.-as still lessened by Burn- 
 side's tardiness. 
 
 Gen. Rodman's division -was to attack 
 the stone bridge in Burnside's front. They 
 were shifted about in the "woods, and un- 
 der cover of hillocks tj) escape the enemy's- 
 shells until the proper time had arrived 
 for the attack. That time was eleven 
 o'clock. Then the commander calculated 
 that his right wing would be grappling the- 
 left and center of the enemj-'s line, and the 
 Oth Corps could find little opposition. 
 
 Eleven struck from the v.-hite steeples of 
 Sharpsburg, Keedysville, and Hazardville, 
 but was not heard in the noise of battle^ 
 One of Burnside's aids came ealloping to 
 Gen. Rodman and ordered the advance. 
 Welland was despatched to Harland's brig- 
 ade with this order. Harland led his regi- 
 ments to the creek. Gently it flowed be- 
 tween banks covered with green turf, and 
 shaded by njagnificent willow trees that 
 dipped their long branches in the water. 
 An old fashioned stone bridge of a single 
 arch spanned the limpid stream. On the 
 •other side the bank was low and level for 
 about thirty feet, and then rose abruptly 
 to a considerable height, which was cov- 
 ered with tre«3 and bushes* The regiments 
 •endeavored ^o ford the stream, since the 
 bridge was &wept by guns, and defended 
 
Differences. 315 
 
 by a strong force. A gallant captain of a 
 Connecticut regiment, seeing the men hesi- 
 tate, leaped into the water, and with sabre 
 and revolver advanced to the center of the 
 creek, where the bullet of a sharpshooter 
 pierced his body. His men dragged him 
 ashore. Learning that his wound was 
 mortal, he said with a smile, " This is the 
 death I have always wished to die." The 
 same, when the da^ after, in the last ago- 
 nies he was forced to retch violentlj-, said 
 to the officers surrounding his bed : " Ex- 
 cuse me, gentlemen, but I can not help it," 
 and died. A polished gentleman to the 
 last. 
 
 There was considerable hesitation now. 
 The men looked for cover, and fired at the 
 opposite shore, where no mark was per- 
 ceptible. The enemy's sharpshooters were 
 well concealed and picked off about two 
 hundred men. Valuable time was lost, 
 and when Burnside's corps should have 
 been tugging at the rebel line on the other 
 side, a few regiments only were firing 
 blindly across the creek from this. A t one 
 o'clock, however, a positive order was 
 given to carry the bridge. Gen. Ferraro, 
 the best dancing master in the country, ad- 
 vanced with his brigade. Leading them 
 forward under cover of an inequalty of 
 ground, he charged at a full run, and with 
 an impetuosity and vigor which swept all 
 obstacles from before him. Two New York 
 regiments in strong column, with bayo- 
 nets fixed, rushed across, and the guns 
 
316 Differences. 
 
 ■which had defended the position were pres- 
 ently in their hands, and turned against 
 the enemy. The whole corps crossed im- 
 mediately after. 
 
 It was not long before the steep ridge 
 was cleared, and a considerable advance 
 made. Soon, however, Burnside's troops 
 were forced to descend into a hollow plant- 
 ed with corn, that lay in the range of a 
 battery posted on the crest of the opposite 
 slope. An attack was ordered. Regiment 
 after regiment charged through the thick 
 standing corn. The field was bounded 
 above by the road, and on the further side 
 of this road ran a stone v/all. Troops sup - 
 porting the battery were posted behind 
 this rural fortification. As the charging 
 columns came near a perfect hail of bullets 
 burst from behind this wall and cut through 
 the corn-stalks, dropping them right and 
 left, and with them many a brave soldier. 
 The battery opened at short range. Pieces 
 of railroad iron, bags of nails, and iron 
 bars, flew through the faltering regiments, 
 who A^avered, rallied, fell back again, ral- 
 lied once more, and finally fled to the cover 
 of the hollow, or behind the further ridge. 
 An old rail fence divided this corn field 
 from the road. Two days after fifty bullet 
 holes were counted in a piece of one of the 
 rails a foot in length. A small regiment 
 from the wooden nutmeg State attempted 
 another charge. Their colonel at the head, 
 they passed up the slope with true con- 
 tempt of death. Another rally, and 
 
DiPPERENCES. 317 
 
 another attack! Again beaten back. Once 
 more, and they have the batter^^ Their 
 colors have changed hands every few min- 
 utes. Their ammunition is spent. Their 
 ranks have been cut down. Can they hold 
 it? 
 
 Xot unless fresh troops support them. 
 But where are these? Not forthcoming. 
 The enemy makes a desperate attempt to 
 regain the guns. Worn down with fatigue, 
 riddled with shot, dispirited by want of 
 support, the brave little regiment reduced 
 to few more than a hundred men, falls back 
 and abandons the prize. They have done 
 all, but sacrificed the entire regiment, and 
 all in vain. 
 
 Gen. Hodmau has been carried off the 
 field with a bullet through his chest. Wel- 
 land watches with him that eventful night. 
 That night, when everybody looked for a 
 renewal of the fight in the morning. At 
 this time the General's wound is not 
 thought mortal, though it afterward proved 
 to be so. 
 
 It is a fine old farm house they happened 
 upon, and well stocked, as it turns out. 
 Welland, the first moment he was at liber- 
 ty, rushed to the kitchen for something to 
 eat. He found Ned in the midst of a num- 
 ber of pots containing preserved fruit, 
 which the negro had carried down from 
 the garret. He was engaged on preserved 
 strawberries, and they disappeared down 
 his throat by the ladleful. 
 
318 Differences. 
 
 "Some meat!" cried Welland, "can't 
 you find me some meat?" 
 
 " Plenty of chickens," replied Ned. 
 " Shall I cook some for you ?" 
 
 "Yes, immediately. What is this?" he 
 asked, lifting the lid off a pot Avbich emit- 
 ted a savory odor. " Chickens, by the 
 eternal gods ! AVhose are they?" 
 
 " They is for the servants," replied Xed 
 uneasily. "I can get some ready for the 
 gentlemen in a little time." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Welland, " these 
 ^'ill do." 
 
 He lifted the pot from the fire, carried it 
 into the sitting-room, where those of the 
 staff that remained alive and sound were 
 congregated with some of Burnside's offi- 
 cers. They fell over the meat like starving 
 men. A mess-kettle of cotiee that was 
 sent from a field hospital established in the 
 barn, proved most grateful. They drank 
 it from old tin cups, and champagne rose 
 could not have tasted better. 
 
 The garden in front of the house was full 
 of Avounded and dying. With lanterns 
 the surgeons picked their way among 
 them, giving comfort according to their 
 ability. Straw, and perhaps a blanket, 
 with the knapsack for a pillow, were all 
 the accommodations, morphine and whis- 
 ky the chief medicines, coffee and hard 
 bread the food. Quiet was already settling 
 on the exhausted sufierers, when an Order- 
 ly galloped up and said : 
 
DlFFEUENCES. 319 
 
 ''AH the wounded that can be removed 
 must be sent back at once. Another attack 
 is expected." 
 
 Now the ambuhmces are put in motion, 
 and the poor fellows crowded in. There is 
 a wild cry from many not to be left in the 
 hands of the rebels. Others again, fa- 
 tigued to death, demand to be abandoned 
 to their fate. They will not stir. One cap- 
 tain, with both legs shattered, is carried 
 by four of his men in a blanket. Another, 
 in the act of being put on a stretcher, ex- 
 pires. Both have just come from home. 
 The one a professor at Amherst College, 
 the other a prominent member of the bar 
 in New England. 
 
 At last the ambulances are gone. Silence 
 falls upon the barn and the garden. Sleep 
 has closed the eyes of the sufferers, and 
 the dead stillness is only broken by the 
 tread of the guards, or the hurried step of 
 a Zouave chasing a chicken over the 
 bodies of his suffering comrades. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Thk morning comes, and the fight is not 
 renewed. Both armies are employed in 
 burying their dead. A number of wound- 
 ed lie between the outposts of the two lines 
 suffering from hunger and thirst, which can 
 not be assuaged. Early in the morning a 
 chaplain has ventured among them, and 
 become a mark for the enemy's bullets. 
 They are abandoned in consequence. 
 
320 Differences. 
 
 Welland galloped to the spot \<'here his 
 regiment had passed the night. The Adju- 
 tant met him with congratulations. 
 
 "The Colonel is among the killed, and 
 the Lieutenant Colonel badly wounded. 
 The latter will be completely disabled. So 
 I suppose you will take charge at once." 
 
 "Of course," replied Welland. "I will 
 report these facts at Division Headquar- 
 ters." 
 
 He was ordered to take command of his 
 regiment, and a Colonel's commission was 
 not long in arriving, especially as Reiche- 
 nau kept his interests in view, and failed 
 not to urge matters at Albany whenever 
 there seemed to be any doubt or hesitation. 
 
 In a few days the army left Antietam 
 creek, and passed to Pleasant Yalley. They 
 lay there all through the long sunny au- 
 tumn days, wuth the gorgeous colors just 
 tinting the leaves, and the verdant hills 
 inclosing them on every side. A fine road 
 ran along the hills to the left, under mag- 
 nificent trees, and commanding a beautiful 
 stretch of country, which led to the Polo- 
 mac. As one approached the river the 
 trees grew denser and darker, and at the 
 end between two pine-covered promonto- 
 ries, there was a region of perpetual gloom. 
 Immediately beyond this, the sunlight 
 slept wonderfully sweet and bright upon 
 the broad glassy expanse of the Potomac 
 and its picturesque banks. Ride to the 
 North, and on one side flows the great calm 
 river, while on the other rise the rocky 
 
Differences. 321 
 
 battlements of Marj'land heights. Ride to 
 the South, and the hills assume a softer 
 character, and wear mantles of velvetty 
 turf. Cast your glance across, and Bolivar 
 heights with the whole ridge frown down 
 upon the red bricks of Harper's Ferry, 
 while the Shenandoah, like a glittering ser- 
 pent, picks its v/ay between these steep 
 and rocky crests. The weather was beauti- 
 ful, and the mellow October air, M'ith its 
 soft hazes, contributed to enhance the 
 peaceful aspect of this most pleasant of all 
 valleys. 
 
 Colonel Tourtelotte, while passing to the 
 rear at South Mountain, had received a 
 slight wound. He was lingering in one of 
 the confederate hospitals at Middletown. 
 When Welland heard of it he determined 
 to pay him a visit. His doubts must be 
 cleared up, his mind set at rest. He had 
 not heard from Sharp, or indeed from any 
 one in Tennessee, since the receipt of that 
 letter at Washington, which gave so fatal a 
 blow to his hopes. He would now find out 
 what was the state of affairs from Tourte- 
 lotte himself. 
 
 "Xed," he said, one evening, "saddle 
 my horse at five to-morrow morning. I 
 a'nj going to be away for a couple of days." 
 
 " Yes sir. Shall I go along on the bu- 
 gler's mare?" 
 
 *'If you wish. I am going to see one of 
 your Tennessee acquaintances." 
 
 " Master Charley? I don't want him to 
 
 21 
 
322 Differences. 
 
 see me, sir. I kept hid from him in New- 
 York, sir. Is he a prisoner?" 
 
 " No ; not master Charley, but Colonel 
 Tourtelotte." 
 
 Ned's eyes twinkled, and a broad grin 
 overspread his features. 
 
 " Is master Tourtelotte a prisoner?" 
 
 " He is, and wounded." 
 
 " Sir, is his dog Ugly a prisoner too?" 
 
 " I don't know. Are you interested in 
 the dog, Ned?" 
 
 ** I'se want to kill him. What you going 
 to do to master Tourtelotte? Make the 
 Union soldiers tie his hands and feet? I'se 
 like to see him." 
 
 " You will not have an opportunity. Af- 
 ter all, you had better remain here. Re- 
 member at five, to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Wellaud had received permission for 
 himself, his Major and a lieutenant, acting 
 as Quartermaster, to go to Middletown. 
 They arose at five o'clock and gathered 
 around the breakfast table, where the cook 
 served them with coffee and cold meats. 
 
 " Griddle cakes is coming, Kurnel," re- 
 marked that worthy to Welland. 
 
 They made their appearance presently. 
 Wheat cakes si ighty baked on a griddle. 
 Not unsavory if eaten Avith butter or mo- 
 lasses. Major Schonherr, j)romoted a few 
 days ago, and consequently an entirely 
 new member of the field and staff mess, 
 tasted them with hesitation, and then said 
 politely : 
 
Differences.' 323 
 
 "Colonel, please help me to another of 
 these thunderbolts." 
 
 "You are a courageous man, Major," re- 
 plied AVelland, " to attack our Jove of the 
 kitcheji so openl3^" 
 
 *' They's so heavy because of the morn- 
 ing dew," said the cook, gruffly. "Cakes 
 wont rise so early in the morning, any way 
 you can fix it." 
 
 They were all three well mounted, and 
 galloped along at a slashing rate. The 
 mists Avere still heavy, and obscured the 
 view. But slowly the sun pierced and 
 riddled them with golden shafts. As they 
 rolled up, the trees and the tall waving 
 grain were disclosed bathed in dew, and 
 sparkling in the light with innumerable 
 crystal drops. The birds sang gaily, and 
 the horses blew clouds of steam from their 
 nostrils. 
 
 Major Schonherr was a German, with a 
 head as round as a bullet, a complexion of 
 clear white and red, large open eyes, and 
 short hair. There were indications of a 
 coming moustache on his upper lip, but all 
 efforts of nature, assisted by art, had not 
 yet succeeded in bringing out that mascu- 
 line ornament. It is true, the Major did 
 considerable pulling at the feAV hairs that 
 could be seen, and his trunli contained no 
 less than seventeen nostrums to make the 
 beard grow. He had trusted in all, and 
 been disappointed bj' every one. Some 
 men would have taken to drinking. The 
 Major buried his despair in another pas- 
 
324 Differences. 
 
 sion. He wore the finest clothes in the 
 corps, and compressed his waist to an im- 
 possible size. Notwithstanding all this, he 
 was a good and smart fellow, with the sole 
 affectation of praising every thing German, 
 and deprecating every thing American. 
 
 Lieutenant Geo. W. Dawson was a differ- 
 ent man. Tall, thin, dark complexioned, 
 and black-haired, American to the back 
 bone. A born scoffer at every thing for- 
 eign. A little slow of comprehension, but 
 tenacious of retaining an idea once com- 
 prehended. Scrupulous in line manners 
 that did not sit quite easy on him ; firm of 
 belief and trust where his honest heart had 
 once placed confidence; and- a lover of 
 poetry, and especially of Tennj^sou, whom 
 he could not always appreciate at the time, 
 but worked out by degrees. 
 
 "What a fine morning," said Dawson — 
 Americans discuss the weather more than 
 any other nation — " there is nothing in the 
 world to compare with our Indian sum- 
 mer, I believe." 
 
 " Except your chimney's," replied the 
 Major. "Insufferably hot to the face, and 
 cold to the back. Thus we have it now. 
 Broiling at noon and freezing at night." 
 
 " You don't understand how to treat our 
 chimneys, th'at's the difficulty. You want 
 to sit in a warm high-backed chair, or 
 stand with your back to the fire." 
 
 "Like Mr. Pickwick," said Welland. 
 
 " I wonder when we are going to move?" 
 asked Schcnherr. " Xo General iu the 
 
Differences. 325 
 
 world could wish for better weather to fin- 
 ish a campaign in. But tlie Americans are 
 initiating quite a new science of war," he 
 added, sneeringly. 
 
 " I suppose they are," returned Dawson. 
 " And one that will knock spots out of the 
 rest of the world, if you will permit me the 
 expression." 
 
 "No doubt," laughed Schonherr. "I'll 
 bet that fifty thousand French soldiers 
 would finish this war in three months." 
 " What will 30U bet ?'' 
 " Whatever you please." 
 " Gentlemen," said Wellaud. " How are 
 you going to decide ?" ♦ 
 
 " Write to Nap. and let him send the 
 troops," replied Dawson. " We invite com- 
 petition, and we'll give them a chance." 
 
 " No," said Schonherr. ''Seriously speak- 
 ing, don't you see yourself that this is not 
 a warlike nation? The men are not sol- 
 diers, but mechanics and farmers. The 
 commanders are not Generals^ but lawyers, 
 merchants, dancing-masters, and what not. 
 Does it not seem to you that it would have 
 been better for Corfgress to hire out the 
 job, and get the putting d6wn of the rebel- 
 lion done by contract ? It would have been 
 done cheaper and quicker." 
 
 "Let me tell you, Major, that we take 
 pride in being citizens that know how to 
 earn their living honestly in peace. If we 
 are not able to be moved about like dead 
 machines, as European armies are said to 
 be, we can fight nevertheless for the main- 
 
326 Differences. 
 
 tenance of our Government, even as we 
 fought for its establishment with the great- 
 est power of Europe. Your remarks are a 
 little insulting, Major." 
 
 "Well sir," returned the Major, hotly. 
 " We both wear swords. I will give you 
 satisfaction. I'll take my straps off." 
 
 "If you mean by duel, Major, permit me 
 to say that such a proposition is ridiculous. 
 But if you'll take your straps off and in- 
 sult me, I'll walk into you with my two 
 fists, with all my heart.'' 
 
 "That is the way boors fight, not gentle- 
 men," returned the other. "Will pistols 
 suit yon?" 
 
 " Xonsense," interruj)ted Welland. "Ma- 
 jor, remember the articles of war. Slash 
 away at the enemy, if your fighting im- 
 pulses are so uncontrollable." 
 
 He gathered his reins, and cantered 
 away. The others followed in silence. 
 Bye and bye they came to a 'steep place, 
 where they were compelled to walk their 
 horses. Conversation recommenced. 
 
 " I do not deny, Lieutenant," said the 
 Major, " that the Americans may in time 
 become a great nation, but they hJlve much 
 to learn yet. At present they are like an 
 overgrown boy full of conceit, and running 
 into all sorts of extremes."- 
 
 " Xor do I deny," rejoined the other, 
 " that the Germans may become a great 
 na^on, but they have much to unlearn. 
 At i^resent they are like an old man, weak- 
 ened in consequences of former excesses." 
 
Differences. 327 
 
 "Weakened? Xo, Lieutenant. Look at 
 Germany ! In art, science, poetry and 
 civilization the first nation on the face of 
 the earth ! There is nothing in which it 
 does not excel." 
 
 "Beer, especially," replied the other, 
 ".Not so?" 
 
 "Yes, beer. That beverage which is the 
 only one that will teach you Americans 
 moderation in drink. You do not under- 
 stand the art of drinking. You step up to 
 a bar, swallow a number of glasses of 
 -whiskey, and then go to roll in the gutter. 
 You can not drink, and remain sober." 
 
 " We are not seasoned, as you are, who 
 imbibe with your mother's milk." 
 
 " No, you are not capable of restraining 
 yourselves. Consequently, a few of the 
 better minded, acknowledging this inca- 
 pacity, join temperance societies, and by 
 keeping awaj^ from all manner of liquor, 
 succeed in escaping the fate of drunkards. 
 That is the reason." 
 
 " You seem to have investigated the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 "I have. It is your unnatural endeavor 
 to hurry through life, that lies at the bottom 
 of all. You w^ant to save time, and swal- 
 low hastily and too much. Time saved at 
 the bar is spent in the gutter." 
 
 " What has that to do with beer. Major." 
 
 " Beer will reform you. One can't drink 
 enough to intoxicate, and drink it quick, 
 unless one is a beast altogether, and such 
 will get drunk any way." 
 
328 Differences. 
 
 They arrived in the neighborhood of An- 
 tietam battle field, and Welland thought of 
 stopping at the house where General Hod- 
 man had died, to get a draught of water 
 and a slight lunch. 
 
 Mr. Roebuck, the proprietor, was very 
 happ3^ to see them. He was a sturdy Ma- 
 ryland farmer, with sharp eyes, and a face 
 tanned the color of leather. He called the 
 girls, and the officers were served with 
 what is called in the west "a square meal," 
 consisting of meat, eggs, and cold beans. 
 Cider was also set before them, and pies, 
 accompanied by the inevitable " hunks" of 
 damp cheese. 
 
 They ate of exerj thing with great relish; 
 but neither Welland nor Schonherr would 
 touch the pies, notwithstanding the solici- 
 tations of the young ladies, who had made 
 them. Welland simply refused, but Schon- 
 herr said v.ith energy : 
 
 " I want to live a little longer ; so I never 
 eat pies. I consider piecrust a deadlj^ poi- 
 son. It is slow, but sure.' And it has the 
 disadvantage of putting a man through all 
 the tortures of dyspejDsia, ere it kills him. 
 If I want to commit suicide I'll take opium. 
 No, ladies, ofler pies to Americans, but not 
 to civilized creatures." 
 
 When they came out, Mr. Roebuck fol- 
 lowed them. 
 
 " Colonel," he said to Welland, "you've no 
 objection to do the just thing, you know ?" 
 
 *' None in the world," Welland replied. 
 " What can I do for you, my dear sir?" 
 
Differences. 329 
 
 *' Just to sign a little paper, you know. 
 It wont take you a minute." 
 
 " AVhat sort of a pajjer? I must know 
 the contents first." 
 
 " 'Tvvould take too long to read it over, 
 and you want to be going j^ou know. So 
 you can just sign it now. I am an honest 
 man, 3'ou know." 
 
 " I don't care how honest j'ou are, sir. I 
 can't attach mj^ signature to any paper un- 
 less T am acquainted with the contents." 
 
 " 'Twould take too long to read it. I 
 don't think jou have time now, Colonel. 
 I thought you'd do the just thing, you 
 know." 
 
 *' Lsave it to another time then." 
 
 ''No. I've got to have it now. I'll tell 
 you what is in it, you know." 
 
 " Very Avell," and the officers sat down 
 once more. 
 
 "Well, 5^ou see," said Roebuck, putting 
 himself into position, " you know that they 
 started a hospital in my house, and took 
 whatever they could lay hands on you 
 know, you know. Don't you?" 
 
 " Yes. They started a hospital here." 
 
 " And, those New Yorkers, with the red 
 caps, put their camp into my garden you 
 know, and all the chickens that w-as left 
 by the hospital they caught and killed, yoti 
 know, and marchedoff with those chickens 
 stuck on their bayonets. I wouldn't be- 
 grudge any thing to the wounded. Colonel, 
 but when healthj- men steals your chick- 
 ens, you know, yoti ought to have indem- 
 
330 Differences. 
 
 iiity from Government. That's what's in 
 
 the paper, you know." 
 
 " I'll certify to that," said Welland. " Is 
 that all." 
 
 " Not exactly. There was three hundred 
 chickens, you know, r.nd twenty-five eggs 
 which hens was a ha'<hing. That makes 
 three hundred and twenty-five, you 
 know." 
 
 "All right. What else?" 
 
 " There was the palings all around my 
 garden. Put up last spring, you know. 
 Splendid chestnut palings. They was used 
 for firewood by the red-caps, you know. I 
 can't put them up for twice the amount 
 now, Colonel." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "Well, there was the preserves. They 
 was eaten up in the hos|:)ital you know. 
 No telhng, you know, what they was 
 worth. Took anj'- amount of sugar." 
 
 " Any thing more ?" 
 
 "Yes, Colonel. The hams, you know, 
 and the cider. There wasn't a bit left of 
 either. I've had to buy hams and cider in 
 Frederick two weeks ago. It's the first 
 time, you know, in twenty years that I've 
 bought a ham or a drop of cider. Always 
 have my own, 3-ou know." 
 
 " Are you done, Mr. Roebuck?" 
 
 " Not quite. There was a lot of bedding 
 spoilt, you know. My old w^oman can't get 
 the bloud stains out.' The Government 
 ought to pay for that, you know." 
 
 "I think it vvill be the shortest way to 
 
D I F y K R E N C E S . 331 
 
 let me look over the list," said Welland, 
 taking it from him, and stepping into the 
 parlor. " Get pen and ink, and what I 
 can't suscribe to I'll strike out." 
 
 A.fter some objections, the farmer obeyed. 
 Welland read : 
 
 1. Two nutmeg graters, nearly new, worth 40c. 
 
 2. The dog's collar, bought last springy U 00. 
 
 3. A pair ofsaddlebags that would have last- 
 ed me tea years, ^3 00. 
 
 4. Twenty hams, each weighing 13 pounds 
 
 at least, and worth 
 
 *' Why, Mr. Roebuck, their value is not 
 given?" 
 
 "W^ell, Colonel, hams may rise, you 
 know, and I am waiting you know, for 
 their price to get np.'" 
 
 Welland read on. 
 
 Presently ho put liis pen through an 
 item. 
 
 Mr. Roebuck groaned. Another was 
 likewise stricken out. 
 
 " Don't be hard," he said. "I'm a poor 
 man you know, and Government has got 
 lots of money." 
 
 But more followed, and as each was 
 stricken oat, Mr. Roebuck gave utterance to 
 dismal groans. 
 
 At last Welland aflixed his certificate 
 and signature to each page, and prepared 
 to depart. 
 
 Mr. Roebuck was profuse in his thanks. 
 
 " We have finished this business nicely," 
 he said, "and now all iL5 settled except the 
 meal, you know." 
 
 " What meal ?" 
 
 " The meal aou'vg just had, you know. 
 
332 DiFFEBENCES. 
 
 Only a dollar a piece. Victuals is Ligh, 
 you know. That's it." 
 
 Thej^ mounted their horses. 
 
 " Good bye, gentlemen, and call again, 
 you know. You have fine weather for your 
 ride. God bless you, you know." 
 
 It was late in the evening when thej' en- 
 tered Middletown, and they had no small 
 difficulty in obtain ng a lodging. The 
 town was full of wounded, and every house 
 was a hospital. Federals and confederates 
 seemed on the easiest terms- imaginable as 
 they hobbled from one hospital to the oth- 
 er, and paid visits, or joined in amuse- 
 ments to pass time. When our friends had 
 partaken of a good supper, Wellaud pro- 
 ceeded to the Provost Marshal's office, to 
 obtain permission to see Tourtelotte, as 
 well as to ascertain where he had been 
 placed. He found a pleasant officer in 
 charge who granted him the permission, 
 but could not state where Tourtelotte was. 
 A visit to the Medical Director had the 
 same result. As it was late, he was advis- 
 ed to wait till morning, and then make the 
 rounds of the hospitals, and insx)ect their 
 registers. There was no choice but to fol- 
 low this advice. Declining an invitation 
 from the Provost Marshal to stay with him 
 and make an evening of it, Welland re- 
 turned to his quarters and went to bed, 
 with Antonia's little book under his pil- 
 low and a heavy heart in his bosom. He 
 desired to hear Tourtelotte's revelations, 
 yet trembled at the* result. 
 
Differences. 333 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Next morning Tourtelotte was found, 
 and Welland proceeded at once to the hos- 
 pital where he lay. It was a frame church 
 with plenty of windows, surrounded by a 
 pleasant green, and kept cool by shade 
 trees. Welland saw the surgeon in charge; 
 a fat pompous man, in the gra3' uniform of 
 the confederate arm3% He sent an attend- 
 ant with him to point out Tourtelotte. 
 They walked into the cool vestry, with 
 neat wliite-washed walls, and long windows 
 opening on the lawn, where tlie rustling 
 trees were alive with birds. The cots were 
 set around the wall, and as they entered, 
 Tourtelotte, with his arm in a sling, leaped 
 up and cried : 
 
 " I knew I should see you, Louis. I am 
 so glad you have come." He seized Wel- 
 land's hand with eagerness, and pressed it 
 with every sign of joy. 
 
 Welland was a little disconcerted by this 
 cordial reception. It puzzled him. But he 
 replied : 
 
 " After detaining 3'ou by every uieaus in 
 my power, Colonel, it was but courteous to 
 look after your accommodations." 
 
 " Sit down. My cot is the only chair I 
 can offer you." 
 
 " I am used to soldier's furniture. Colo- 
 nel ; no apologies." 
 
 " But why are you so formal, Louis ? I 
 am so very glad to see you, and I have been 
 so dreadfully bored since my capture, that 
 
334 Differences. 
 
 I must resume the terms of our early 
 
 friendship. Unless," he added, haughtily, 
 
 "the federal Colonel thinks it degrading to 
 
 be on intimate terms with a confederate 
 
 otficer." 
 
 " Xo, Frank," replied Welland. " You 
 are a gentleman, and I would consider you 
 an equal, no matter under what circum- 
 stances I met you. If I have not at once 
 resumed the language of our early friend- 
 ship, it is because I can not forget the man- 
 ner of my exit from Tennessee, and by 
 whose tools I was pursued." 
 
 *'Xot with my knowledge, Louis, I 
 swear to you. You do me injustice." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it. What has become 
 of the scamp?" 
 
 '* Do you mean Hazelton?" 
 
 "Yes, though Hassel is his real name." 
 
 " I suppose he has changed it again be- 
 fore this. He began as Quartermaster of 
 my regiment, but being soon detected in 
 some thievery, saved his neck by entering 
 into the secret service corps." 
 
 " As a detective? Is that what you do 
 with thieves?" 
 
 *' A detective after a fashion. He finds 
 out your plans for our Generals. Cornpre- 
 nez vous?^^ 
 
 " Xot quite. You don't mean thai he has 
 turned spy?" 
 
 '• Exactly. But you will not niake use 
 of this, parole cVhonneur.^'' 
 
 "I will not. Great God, what a dis- 
 grace !" 
 
Differences. 335 
 
 *' Don't pity him. There are some people 
 rascals from the moment of their birth. 
 As the old Puritans would say : predes- 
 tined to the pit. He is one of them. Let 
 him worry through life, and the sooner he 
 ends, the less mischief will he do." 
 
 " I suppose God had some special purpose 
 in endowing such a nature with many tal- 
 ents. To us it is mysterious." 
 
 " As if God had created him !— Xo, men 
 have made him. His ancestry, drifting 
 toward evil in one way or another, dev-el- 
 oped those cells in their brain, which, when 
 produced together, dictate the sentiments 
 that make up the nature of a scoundrel. 
 He has but followed the inevitable laws of 
 his nature in becoming one. He could not 
 help it." 
 
 " I don't mean to discuss that question, 
 Frank, but whether he could help it or not, 
 he will be hanged, when caught. And 
 justly too. The tiger can not help being a 
 tiger, yet society makes chase upon him." 
 " You claim to have won a battle at An- 
 tietam, I believe," said Tourtelotte. 
 
 " We have won a battle there," replied 
 Wellaud. " Lee has retreated into Vir- 
 ginia. Do you often hear from our Ten- 
 nessee friends ?" 
 
 "Do you mean the Goldmans? They 
 are all well, even including Mr. Sellington 
 Sharp, that queer genius. Charley is in 
 my regiment, and a brave officer he is." 
 
 " Ah !" After reflecting for a moment.or 
 two, Welland proposed that Tourtelotte 
 
336 Differences. 
 
 should slop out with him and take a stroll 
 on the green, if his wound would permit 
 it. Tourtelotte gladly accepted the propo- 
 sal, and making a sling of an old silk 
 handkerchief, suspended his arm by it, 
 and followed the other. ' Welland led the 
 way to the rear of the hospital, and there 
 they walked up and down under the rust- 
 ling trees, and neither spoke a word for 
 full five minutes. A sort of embarrass- 
 ment had succeeded their first free inter- 
 course. Both felt that a subject must be 
 alluded to, which might prove difficult to 
 manage. At last Tourtelotte, with the 
 recklessness of his nature, seized the l)ull 
 by the horns. 
 
 "If there were nothing else," he said, 
 " to make us valiant and enduring in this 
 war, the enthusiasm of our ladies would 
 suffice to do so. You can not imagine how 
 intensely patriotic the ladies of the South 
 are. Our light pales before thefr fire. We 
 are but the 'messengers of their wrath.' " 
 
 *' I have heard of this," replied Welland. 
 
 "Take Antonia Goldman for instance," 
 resumed the other. " You remember Miss 
 Goldman? She was the quietest and most 
 reserved of girls before this. Well, sir, she 
 is continuall}^ at work now^ for the cause. 
 That young lady, God bless her, presented 
 a flag to my regiment, and made a speech 
 on the occasion that would have poured 
 fire into the veins of an iee-bear. I believe 
 that she would be found ready to lay her 
 life down at any moment were it required 
 for the good of the South." 
 
BiFPEKENCES. 337 
 
 "Miss Goldman is capable of sacrifieino- 
 herself for a great idea," replied Welland. 
 " Happy knights that fight for the favor of 
 such ladies!" 
 
 ^^" Happy, indeed," replied Tourtelotto. 
 "What more can one desire than to fight 
 for one's dearest interests, with the hope of 
 calhng the fairest lady wife, when the palm 
 of victory is won." 
 
 Welland grew rather pale. "Do you 
 mean Miss Goldman ? Is that the arrange- 
 ment?" ^ 
 
 "It is. Excuse me. I believe you had 
 some aspirations in that quarter, but of 
 course you gave up every hope when you 
 joined the army of our enemies." 
 
 " After being sent out of Tennessee in so 
 amiable a manner," replied Welland, bit- 
 terly. " I wish you joy." 
 
 " Thank you. Of course you never could 
 entertain serious views in regard to Anto- 
 nia. That was out of the question " 
 
 " Why?" asked Welland, haughtily. 
 ^ Tourtelotte grew embarrassed and said • 
 " I don't know. It seemed to me that your 
 political views were of a shade precluding 
 the idea of settlement in the South." 
 
 " Let us drop the subject," resumed Wei- 
 land. " You have told me that Miss Gold- 
 man was to be your bride at the conclusion 
 of this war, and I have wished you joy. 
 Whatever my private feelings are, or have 
 been, is of no moment now. I thank you 
 for the intelligence. Can I do any thin- 
 for you in the way of accommodations?"" 
 
338 Differences. 
 
 " I am very comfortable at present, but 
 I fear they are going to remove me before 
 long." 
 
 " Whenever my inflnence can make cap- 
 tivity more endurable, or assist in your 
 speedy exchange, pray command me. Here 
 is my address. And now, do not be offend- 
 ed if I offer to be your banker during the 
 time you stay in the North. I should ex- 
 pect as much of you were I a prisoner in 
 the South, and should certainly take ad- 
 vantage of it." 
 
 " You are a noble fellow. Louis, let not 
 love for a woman come between you and 
 me. Let us remain friends, true friends. 
 You liked Antonia Goldman, I love her 
 deeply. If she will be my wife I shall 
 thank God for it. B ut even then I should 
 taste happiness with regret, had I lost your 
 affection in striving for it." 
 
 " You are an enthusiast, Frank. I do 
 not think you know how deep my feelings 
 are, and how easily'- swayed your own 
 heart is. Isn't there a great deal of surface, 
 storm and sunshine in your bosom, which 
 never penetrates to the vital depths be- 
 low?" 
 
 " I believe there is. No one but a Ger- 
 man could expect a single feeling to carry 
 away a man entirely. Life is so rich, that 
 man can not anchor his soul on one object 
 alone. Sometimes this one cable parts, 
 and if there are no other resources, the 
 game is lost." 
 ** That's a confusion of metaphors. How- 
 
DiFFEKENCES. 339 
 
 ever, your theory of life may be the happier 
 one. I believe it is." 
 
 ** Don't call it mine. It is the theory of 
 the French. And every man of leisure, or 
 of pleasure, which amounts to the same 
 thing, is a Frenchman at some period of 
 his life. They rave on love, but do not 
 neglect at the same time to order and enjoy 
 the nicest little dinners, and to study the 
 arrangement of their dress, and take de- 
 light in a costume that becomes fashion- 
 able. They philosophise on beauty, virtue, 
 simplicity, but are very careful to know 
 what dowrj^ a girl will have ere they pro- 
 pose. They attach their heart with equal 
 strength to all the pleasures and delights of 
 life — and if they fail to secure any single 
 one, enough remain to console them for the 
 loss. That is not a bad theory of life? 
 N^estpasf^ 
 
 " You say; they attach themselves with 
 equal strength to many objects in life. The 
 term is ill-chosen. Equal weakness is bet- 
 ter. For depth and sincerity they have 
 profusion and triviality. Is it better to 
 fritter away your soul on a number of ob- 
 jects, than to attach yourself permanently 
 and securely to a single one ? Is univers- 
 ality preferable to thoroughness? I believe 
 not. It may be comfortable to console 
 one's-self for the loss of a friend by a good 
 dinner, and for the loss of a lady, by a 
 dashingly cut garment. But I would 
 rather not be the friend whose affection is 
 ranked with cotelettes de vean, or the ladv 
 
340 Differences. 
 
 whose heart is prized with the products of 
 
 the tailor." 
 
 " But every man passes through periods 
 of life when he adopts these French views, 
 for the time at least, if not for good." 
 
 " That may be. Eyery man is a fool, not 
 once in his life but many times. But I am 
 with the Germans, rather a fool on the 
 other side of the question, and would say 
 with Montrose : 
 
 " He either fears his fate too much, 
 Or his deserts are small, 
 Who dares not put it to the touch, 
 To Tvin or lose it all." 
 After a while, Welland took his leave. 
 He insisted on providing Tourtelotte with 
 funds, to serve him in case of necessity, 
 and exacted a promise that he would ap- 
 ply to him if his services could be of any 
 avail. 
 
 On the ride to camp, while Major Schon- 
 herr and Lieutenant Dawson talked and 
 quarreled, Welland considered the situa- 
 tion. He was again adrift. Antonia had 
 abandoned him and chosen another. Why? 
 He knew not. Shocked as he w^as at her 
 fickleness, he imputed it to no mean mo- 
 tive. Without inveighing esjoecially against 
 her, he recapitulated all the charges that 
 are in such cases made against the sex. 
 Unstable as water, and so forth, were the 
 compliments with which he loaded in 
 spirit the fair portion of humanity. 
 Thoughts of Emma Reichenau mingled in 
 this strain, and Welland concluded his 
 train of thoughts, as good men usually do. 
 
Differences. 341 
 
 by highly complimenting the male sex 
 generally, and himself particularly on their 
 superior stability, constancy, and depth of 
 feeling. On the whole, he bore Tourte- 
 lotte's revelation with equanimit3^ He 
 did not resolve, as heroes of romances do, 
 to take the occasion of the next battle, dash 
 into the thickest, be cut down, and die 
 with the words: "Farewell Antonia," on 
 his lips ; nor did he swear, as very young 
 men might, that he would perform prodi- 
 gies of valor, rise to the grade of Major 
 General, and by his station and renown 
 shame the fickle beauty into eternal regrets 
 and repentance. He simply recognized the 
 necessity of opening another tomb in his 
 heart, burying the old love, setting it a 
 monument, and beginning life anew on the 
 remains of the old life. This implied work 
 and wrestling, and Welland shunned it 
 not. He wrestled and worked, and finally 
 believed that he had given up Antonia for 
 good and all. He found that he would have 
 to rely on the requirements of his office as 
 Colonel, for abstraction from the regrets 
 which weighed down his heart. But still 
 he wore Kinkel's *' Otto" in his breast- 
 pocket, and still lapsed into moods, when 
 the gray pony and sunny curls were con- 
 jured up by imagination, and not banished 
 by judgment. 
 
342 Differences. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 It was shortly after the first battle 
 of Fredericksburg. Encompassed by Vir- 
 ginia mud lay the army of the Potomac. 
 Far and wide around the little village of 
 Falmouth extended the camp, and their 
 white triangular tents rose from the dark 
 red soil in countless profusion. For miles 
 in the vicinity, the woods had fallen 
 victims to the necessities of the army, 
 and the earth looked bare and angry with 
 its unshaded and unconcealed face of mud. 
 
 The Virginia mud is a peculiar institu- 
 tion. Examined in small quantities it does 
 not seem to justify the phillipics directed 
 against it. Soft, fattj', and of a dark red 
 color, which it owes to a generous admix- 
 ture of loam, it adheres to whatever it 
 comes in contact with. It retains moisture 
 for a long time, but when dry forms brittle 
 lumps, which at a touch fall into sharp, 
 hard-baked fragments, or resolve into 
 powder. Looked at as a whole, it realizes 
 the qualities which any of the larger plan- 
 ets would exercise toward a stray human 
 being, whom we might fancy cast away 
 upon their surface. It grasps the foot that 
 falls upon it. It chains the horse, and 
 stops the revolutions of the wheel. You 
 can not proceed but by dislodging it. You 
 can not raise your limb but by raising 
 with it the circumambient mud. At each 
 step great muscular exertion is required. 
 At each movement, you make your road 
 
Differences. 343 
 
 as you proceed. You cleave like a plow, 
 and run in your furrow. At times there is 
 a relief. Soft places occur. Holes where 
 the fund of water accumulated, renders 
 the mud thin. They do not show much on 
 the surface. Unawares you place your 
 foot upon them, and go in above the knee. 
 Slowly you withdraw, and streams of 
 loamy fluid descend from your clothes in 
 graceful rills. Often have I seen these 
 holes filled up with beans, ere a wagon 
 train could venture to pass over them. 
 Where pine sprigs are inaccessible, beans 
 seem best fitted to mend Virginia roads. 
 
 This cruel unrelenting mud, which, like 
 the harpias of old, clung to the heels of its 
 victims, kept both armies in the toils for 
 the greater part of the winter. The feder- 
 als on the left bank of the Rappahannock, 
 and the confederates on the right. Up and 
 down the stream, stretched the long picket 
 lines, and the soldiers on their solitary 
 guard exchanged many a word of greeting 
 and kindness, and sometimes argument 
 with their foes on the opposite shore. In 
 the headquarters of both armies plans were 
 hatched, every week a new one, for cross- 
 ing the river and destroying the enemy. 
 But mud being an equal enemy to both, 
 always managed to frustrate these schemes, 
 if its existence did not render them unten- 
 able from the first. Still, there was a sys- 
 tem of active espionage engendered by this 
 scheming and counter-scheming, which 
 was believed to be necessary in order to 
 
344 Differences. 
 
 guard the respective armies from a sur- 
 prise. No General felt his papers safe 
 when he left his tent. If they escaped the 
 impertinent handling of reporters, spies 
 were sure to get hold of them, and secure 
 the intelligence contained. A strict detec- 
 tive force was organized in consequence 
 and Gen. Burnside's Provost Marshal Gen- 
 eral grew especially active in this portion 
 of his duties. New York rogues were 
 brought on and set upon the track. And, 
 be it remarked, he who succeeds in escap- 
 ing detection by a thorough bred New 
 York rogue, may hope to pull the wool 
 over Satan's eyes, and swindle himself into 
 the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 Welland's regiment lay near the center 
 of the camp, about a mile and a half from 
 the river. The men had built small chim- 
 neys of pine slats and mud, which rose a 
 few feet above the ridge of their shelter 
 tents, and where they nursed themselves 
 w^hen off duty at the side of mean little 
 fires. The officers, more ambitious, reared 
 fire-places of logs and mud, with a suc- 
 cession of barrels to serve as chimneys. 
 The inflammable character of these forbid 
 the attempt to light a hearty fire. They 
 would allow but a moderate blaze. 
 
 The Surgeon of the regiment was a sharer 
 of Col. Welland's tent in those times oi 
 economical arrangements. Nor was this 
 unpleasant ; on the contrary, finding an 
 agreeable young man well read in science. 
 
Differences. 345 
 
 in this medical officer, Welland rather en- 
 joyed his company. 
 
 We look in upon them on a January ev- 
 ening. The tent is an ordinary wall tent. 
 On either side stands a bunk. That of the 
 Surgeon is low and constructed of a hos- 
 pital stretcher. The Colonel's is higher. 
 Four short poles, with forked tops, are 
 stuck into the ground, and their forks sup- 
 port two long sticks. Upon these are laid 
 or nailed a number of barrel staves, up- 
 holding a bag full of corn-shucks, which 
 represents a luxurious camp mattress. 
 These bunks are the only seats in the tent. 
 One side of the back wall is ripped up and 
 folded back to disclose an abortive attempt 
 at a fire-place. The other is occupied by a 
 mess chest, the lid of which serves the pur- 
 poses of a dining table, writing desk, easy 
 chair and toilet stand. Each man's valise 
 is under his bunk, and the swords, sashes, 
 and other paraphernalia hang on the tent 
 pole by nails. A couple of tallow candles 
 in baj^onets reversed, which stick, one in 
 the ground, and the other in the log above 
 the fire-place, illuminate the tent. 
 
 We have forgotten to mention one arti- 
 cle : the stove. It was the jewel of the tent 
 furniture. The Surgeon, by liook or by 
 crook, had managed to " make" this stove 
 from the Hospital Department, and it was 
 at once his darling and his pride. Built of 
 thin sheet iron, easy to heat and quick to 
 grow cold, small and set on three insecure 
 stumpy legs, it occupied the center of the 
 
346 Differences. 
 
 tent, a little to the right. An emaciated 
 pipe rose straight up, and escaped through 
 a rip in the roof of the tent. This pipe was 
 fluted with stripes of rust, where the rain 
 had run down and left its mark. 
 
 It was evening, and both tallow candles 
 dispensed light from the elevation of their 
 bayonet holders. Welland was reading a 
 volume of Hugo's *' Les Miserables," tlien 
 quite new, while the Surgeon indited let- 
 ters, the portfolio on his knees doing duty 
 as desk. The wind entering bj-- the door 
 made the candles flare, shook the walls, 
 and caused the swords and belts to vibrate 
 with a gentle motion. From without, the 
 regular step of the Sentinel on his beat 
 could be heard, with the sharp short re- 
 ports of tent-flies, lifted by the wind, and 
 then suddenly dashed against the linen 
 roofs. 
 
 " Doctor, it is getting cold," said "Wel- 
 land, whose comfortable position, stretched 
 out on his bunk, made him disinclined to 
 move. 
 
 "Hm? Aye, aye. What did you say, 
 Colonel?" inquired the medical man, rous- 
 ing himself. 
 
 " Have you been asleep over your letter? 
 I believe you have. I think it is getting 
 cold, doctor." 
 
 The doctor put out his hand to test the 
 temperature. 
 
 " Your perceptive faculties are unim- 
 paired. Colonel," he replied, and continued 
 his letter. 
 
Differences. 347 
 
 Welland laughed. " Do have some mer- 
 cy with my laziness," he said, "and look 
 to the fire." 
 
 "That stove needs more nursing than a 
 baby," replied the doctor, and rose to at- 
 tend to it. 
 
 He opened the stove, and saw a number 
 of live coals. Then he fumbled under it 
 and brought forth a solitary stick of wood. 
 It was a forked stick, and looked as if it 
 might pass through the stove-door without 
 hindrance. The doctor tried it, but in vain. 
 He turned it this way and that, but it 
 wouldn't go. He lifted the platters from 
 the top, endeavored to insert it from that 
 direction, but failed again, notwithstand- 
 ing the assistance given by his hand from 
 below. It came very near passing, but 
 did not. Finally the doctor burned his 
 hand, and with an oath, dashed the stick 
 down. 
 
 " Why, why," said Welland, soothingly, 
 " where are your eyes, doctor ? Don't you 
 see the label ? That's the *gay deceiver!' " 
 
 This stick, it seems, had frequently foil- 
 ed their efforts to insert it into the stove, 
 and because it always looked as if it might 
 pass, yet never did, and they were sure to 
 try whenever the wood was out, Welland 
 had labeled it " the gay deceiver." 
 
 So they bawled for Ned. 
 
 Ned appeared, winking with his sleepy 
 eyes. 
 
 " Wood !" cried both. " Bring a number 
 of sticks." 
 
348 Differences. 
 
 " There aint no wood, Kurnel," replied 
 the negro. 
 
 " Go to the hosjiital," said the Surgeon. 
 *' You'll find some there." 
 
 So he brought it, and the doctor attempt- 
 ed to build up a fire. The coals were al- 
 most dead. With bits of paper and chips 
 of wood he coaxed the poor flame, and 
 blew and puffed until the tent was full of 
 smoke, and the Colonel leaped up to see to 
 the matter himself. The pine sticks brought 
 by Ned were green, and yielded more 
 smoke than flame. "With infinite art and 
 no end of anxiety they nursed the poor fire 
 up between them, until it had reached a 
 jiromising condition. Then suddenly, it 
 was taken with an incurable relapse, and 
 subsided. They looked at each other in 
 comic despair. 
 
 "I'm not going to try again," said the 
 
 doctor. " I Avish the d would carry off 
 
 this confounded stove." 
 
 *' And leave us in the cold, doctor. Taps 
 have sounded. Let's go to bed like good 
 soldiers." 
 
 " It's confounded early, but I can't write 
 in the cold. I wonder whether the fire- 
 place would bear an attempt?" 
 
 " Don't try. There's quite smoke enough 
 in this tent." 
 
 '• Well, to bed be it then." He undress- 
 ed and wrapped himself in his blankets. 
 *' Colonel, will you have a quinine pill, be- 
 fore going to sleep?" he asked, politely ex- 
 
Differences. 349 
 
 tending a pill box, from which he had just 
 helped himself to a couple. 
 
 ** No, thank you," replied Welland, un- 
 dressing. 
 
 " Good night." 
 
 " Good night." 
 
 They went to sleep. Quiet reigned in the 
 tent. The tallow candles were extinguish- 
 ed, and the door tied up well, admitted no 
 gleam of light from without. Now the 
 stove saw its time. Slyly and cunningly 
 it raised a draft, and worked until the coals 
 were all aglow, and the bits of paper and 
 chips in a bright blaze. Presently there 
 was a great roar in it. Welland and the 
 doctor raised their heads simultaneously. 
 It was red hot. The pipe gleamed with a 
 dusky glow. The cloth of the roof where 
 it escaped was beginning to burn. The 
 blankets on both blinks were singed. A 
 smell of burnt wool pervaded the tent, and 
 the great red glare of the stove illuminated 
 every thing. 
 
 *' As usual !" cried the doctor. " Waited 
 till we were asleep, and then tried to burn 
 us out. Oh, confounded stove !" 
 
 And he leaped up, and dragged the pail 
 from its hiding place. 
 
 " No water ! We shall have the tent 
 afire over our heads in a minute. Colonel. 
 Ned ! Ned ! Ned, I say !" 
 
 The servant replied :" Here !" a good 
 distance off. 
 
 " Bring water ! Water ! Water ! " 
 
350 Differences. 
 
 Ned came at a slow trot with a pailful 
 from the kitchen. 
 
 Now began a scene of activity. Ladleful 
 after ladleful of water was thrown upon 
 that place, where the pii^e came in contact 
 with the roof of the tent, where ominous 
 "black spots indicated the danger. Then 
 several ladlesful were poured into the stove. 
 But in vain. The flames seemed only to 
 grow livelier. Red and glowing, the ma- 
 licious little monster withstood all attempts 
 to soothe it; withstood, until the fuel it 
 held was consumed ; and only then per- 
 mitted the two officers to return to their 
 beds with the assurance of finding a roof 
 over their head in the morning. 
 
 •'Goodnight." 
 
 *' Good night, again." 
 
 There is a sound on the road, which 
 causes every soldier and officer to start. 
 The sound of a horse which comes gallop- 
 ing from the direction of headquarters. 
 Perhaps it brings marching orders. Per- 
 haps it is a summons to prepare for fight. 
 Or it may be only an announcement of an 
 inspection. Who knows? 
 
 The horse approaches, and the rider is 
 challenged. He gives the countersign, and 
 dismounts in front of the Colonel's tent. 
 
 In a moment every tent is opened, and 
 anxious faces peer out. The moon is 
 bright, and the Sentinels stop on their beat 
 to catch the import of the orders. The 
 Colonel throws open his tent, and meets 
 the Orderly from headquarters. It is a 
 
Differences. 351 
 
 young soldier. He has fastened bis horse 
 to a stake, and salutes, with the question: 
 " Colonel Welland?" 
 
 "Step in," replied Welland, returning 
 the salute. 
 
 He enters, and delivers a paper, one end 
 of which protruded from the breast of his 
 jacket. It is in an envelope from the Pro- 
 vost Marshal's olfice, and the words *' Offi- 
 cial Business," in the left hand corner, are 
 struck out. Welland opened it, and on re- 
 quest returned the envelope to the Orderly 
 with his signature, as a receipt. He gal- 
 loped off, and the camp was left in expecta- 
 tion. Most of the officers had dressed, and 
 awaited the call of the drum to assemble at 
 the Colonel's quarters. In fact, the rumors 
 of another attack, which Burnside design- 
 ed to make upon the heights of Fredericks- 
 burg, induced all to believe that it was 
 " marching orders," which the Colonel had 
 received. 
 
 feut it was not. "Welland glanced over 
 the missive in surprise. It ran thus : 
 
 " Louis Welland ; — I don't know wheth- 
 er you will permit me to address you as a 
 friend, or even as an acquaintance, after 
 what has passed between us in Tennessee. 
 Nor do I care much. I am in a condition 
 at present, in which the opinion of men is 
 highly indifferent to me. The knife is at 
 my throat. The waters are closing over 
 me. The earth bids me .good bye. In 
 short, I am sentenced to death, and am 
 not sorry to take leave of this miserable 
 life, which has granted me nothing but 
 sorrows, and left me to struggle for the joys 
 I desired. Do not imagine that I apply tbr 
 
352 Differences. 
 
 your intercession. It would do no good, 
 and having brought myself to the idea that 
 I must die, I do not think that I would ac- 
 cept it. Perhaps you know that I have 
 been convicted of serving as a confederate 
 spy. If not, it makes no ditference. We 
 are beyond the dark ages when it was 
 thought dishonorable to serve one's cause 
 in this manner. We have reached a stand- 
 point, when it is acknowledged that the spy 
 is a necessity, and that the greatest courage, 
 the most absolute coolness, and a certain 
 degree of genius, are required to fill that 
 office successfully. You will not then, with 
 the prejudice of exploded sj^stems of chiv- 
 alric warfare, think the worse of me for 
 having served as a spy. 
 
 " I was careless, and have been discov- 
 ered. Day after to-morrow I shall pay the 
 penalty of my carelessness. They will 
 shoot me. And though the transit may be 
 unpleasant, yet I yearn for that perfect ob- 
 livion and rest which must follow dissolu- 
 tion. I am eager to get rid of this spirit, 
 which gives us so much trouble and so lit- 
 tle pleasure, and to exist again as part of 
 the inert, spiritless vegetable or mineral 
 constituents of this globe. It was a hard 
 wrench to make up my mind to this fact, 
 that it must be. But now, having gotten 
 over that, I look with equanimity on the 
 coming pang, and the peace that will suc- 
 ceed it. 
 
 " Louis Welland, I want to see you. I 
 must entrust papers to you that no one else 
 can take charge of. I have wronged many 
 during my life, and as their wron'gs can no 
 longer benefit me, it is perhaps as well that 
 I should endeavor to right them in some 
 measure, before I die. If, therefore, you 
 do not come to see me on my own account, 
 I ask you to come for the sake of those to 
 whom I intend to make reparation. 
 
 " But, 1 hope that you will come for my 
 own sake too. Remember those years we 
 
Differences. 353 
 
 passed together at University ; remember 
 our joyous and happy youth ; remember 
 how adverse fate has been to me, and 
 above all, remember that I am a country- 
 man of yours. I have much to say, that I 
 can not write. The Provost Marshal has 
 promised to send this at once, so I shall ex- 
 pect you to-morrow. Until then, remem- 
 ber, I wait, hopefully trusting to your good 
 nature and humanity. Hassel." 
 
 Welland laid the letter down, and be- 
 came aware of a number of expectant eyes 
 peeping in at the tent door. When they 
 saw themselves discovered, a respectful 
 scratch at the tent cloth bespoke their de- 
 sire to enter, 
 
 " Come in," said the Colonel. 
 
 Major Schonherr appeared at the head of 
 a number of other officers. 
 
 " Any orders, sir ?" he inquired, respect- 
 fully. 
 
 •' None," replied Welland, and they dis- 
 persed joyfully. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVril. 
 
 Next morning, Welland rode to the army 
 headquarters, and entered the Provost Mar- 
 shal's office. He found that Hassel was 
 convicted not only of being a spy but also 
 a j^serter. It appeared that, for the pur- 
 pose of gaining intelligence with greater 
 ease, he had enlisted in the United States 
 service, and thus the second charge was 
 added to the first. His case was hopeless. 
 He must die on the morrow\ unless execu- 
 23 
 
354 Differences. 
 
 tive clemency interfered, whicli did not 
 seem probable. The Provost Marshal had 
 no hesitation in permitting Welland to see 
 him, or to extend his interview to any 
 length of time. He gave him an order to 
 that effect, and told one of his clerks to di- 
 rect the Colonel to the place where the 
 prisoner was secured. 
 
 It was a tent at a little distance from 
 headquarters, and a couple of soldiers were 
 on guard, one on either side. The prisoner, 
 after sentence had been pronounced, was 
 separated from the others, who were in a 
 log cabin, and placed in this tent by him- 
 self. The ofiacer of the guard was sum- 
 moned, and having inspected the Marshal's 
 order, admitted Welland to the prisoner. 
 
 Hassel was seated on a heap of corn 
 husks in the corner, with a couple of 
 blankets thrown over him. His wrists 
 were handcuffed, and his ancles chained 
 together. He arose with some difficulty, 
 and greeted Welland. 
 
 " I have no seat to offer you, Colonel," 
 he said. " You see that they endeavor to 
 disenchant me with this life, by depriving 
 me of its conveniences. A correct idea in 
 view of my condition ; litest pas ? " 
 
 " Hassel," replied Welland, with deep 
 feeling, *' I can not enter in your frivolous 
 niood. It is a sad matter for me to see^j' 
 one condemned to an untimely end, and 
 how much more when that one has pos- 
 sessed my esteem, and even friendship, in 
 bygone days. To die, and for such 
 crimes!" 
 
Differences, 355 
 
 " Have you come here to preach, Louis 
 Welhmd ? You have always been inclined 
 that way." 
 
 "I have come to see whether I could 
 serve j^'ou." 
 
 " And you begin by endeavoring to dis- 
 turb my equanimity, to attack my compos- 
 ure, and my contentment with my lot! 
 What is the use of bewailing the past ? No 
 God can undo it." 
 
 " But God can forgive it, if true repent- 
 ance follow." 
 
 " Are you a parson ? I thought you were 
 a Jew?" 
 
 *' I am a believer in God and his justice." 
 
 "Would you have me go down on my 
 knees then and snivel, and protest that I 
 am sorry for trying to enjoy life at the ex- 
 pense of the rich and the powerful, whom 
 I cheated or robbed? Never. I am not 
 sorry, and would continue to wage the war 
 against them, were I to live longer." 
 
 " An unequal warfare you have found it, 
 taking up arms against society, truth, jus- 
 tice and order." 
 
 " I don't care. I have lived well, and so- 
 ciety has fell my arm, more than once." 
 
 "As the buffalo feels the fly." 
 
 "Aye, and a single fly can sting him to 
 madness. But there are a thousand prey- 
 ing on his carcass." 
 
 " This is mere folly. Remember, your 
 hours are numbered, Hassel." 
 
 "I did not want a monitor to remind me 
 of that. But it is the fashion with vou so- 
 23* 
 
356 Differences. 
 
 called good men never to feel satisfied, un- 
 less you make the unfortunate appreciate 
 the full Aveight of their misery. It has al- 
 ways been so. With your pretended pity 
 you touch the raws of their pride. With 
 your sympathy you recall their sorrows 
 and misfortunes. With your advice you 
 goad them to madness." 
 
 *' Hassel, recover yourself. I have only 
 S]3oken in kindness." 
 
 " Oh, it is all done in kindness ! Why 
 don't you say : Hassel, you should have 
 been more phlegmatic, or less passionate, 
 or of a more virtuous disposition, and you 
 would not have come to this! You might 
 as well demand : why don't you have black 
 ej'es, or golden hair? It is folly to re- 
 proach, a greater folly to regret, and the 
 greatest folly to advise. Can a man with 
 shorter legs make the same stride that you 
 do? Can a person with weaker arms lift 
 the same weight? How can you expect 
 one of a totally dififerent character to fol- 
 low the rules you have chalked out for 
 yourself?" 
 
 "Do not let us discuss social questions 
 here." 
 
 "Why not? I am in the proper mood. 
 I have said farewell to life, and may speak 
 as one out of his coffin. The pretenses of 
 society do not exist for me any longer. I 
 see it naked in all its hideousness. But 
 you dislike these discussions. You always 
 bend to the powers that be. You are an 
 aristocrat, Welland, socially and relig- 
 iously." 
 
Differences. 357 
 
 "Religiously?" inquired the other, re- 
 solved to indulge him in his present mood. 
 
 " Yes, religiously. Your God is a God 
 of aristocrats. He will only look at those 
 with money in their pockets. Your relig- 
 ion is a system to protect the rich. Your 
 virtues are qualities that are natural to the 
 wealthy and a consequence of wealth. 
 Who is ever tempted to steal? Not the 
 millionaire, but the starving beggar. So 
 you usher the one into a heaven full of 
 whining angels, for keeping a law he has 
 never felt tempted to break, and you lock 
 the other, with his craving stomach and 
 empty pocket, into jail in this world, and 
 plunge him in hell-fire in the next. That 
 is your religion, your justice, j^our God." 
 
 " Do not blaspheme. You will have to 
 meet him ere long." 
 
 '•And you never cease reminding me of 
 it, as if that could strengthen your case ! 
 But you are mistaken. You comfort your- 
 self with the idea that as soon as my body 
 has ceased to breathe, there will be a file of 
 angels ready, with flaming swords, to ar- 
 rest, what you call, n.y spirit, and tug it 
 up to a great bar of justice, where j^our 
 God sits frowning with a golden crown on 
 his head, and a scepter of fire in his hand. 
 And he will deliver me over to a hairy 
 devil with horns and tail, who presently 
 immerses me into burning pitch. While 
 you, it you die, as even such perfection 
 must, will be convo5-ed up by sniveling 
 cherubim, and lapped in soft clouds, and 
 
358 Differences. 
 
 fed with nectar and ambrosia. But I as- 
 sure you that I will cease to live, cease to 
 he conscious of existence, and exist only as 
 dead matter, after the officer has com- 
 manded 'fire' to-morrow morning at ten." 
 
 "This is terrible. Hassel, recollect you 
 are sporting with the highest hopes of the 
 human heart. It is awful to hear a man 
 on the threshold of eternity talk as you 
 do." 
 
 "Does it shock j'ou? 'Twould be bad 
 doctrine for you perhaps, 'tis good for me. 
 And, moreover, it is true. If not, why 
 don't you argue with me?" 
 
 *' There is no time for argument. You 
 have only time for faith. Believe, you can. 
 The argument must spring out of your own 
 heart. And surely, Hassel, a heart that 
 has entertained aspirations so high, and 
 felt a love so ardent and pure, a heart that 
 has been true and noble, can not degener- 
 ate so far as to lose entirely its conviction 
 of a higher being, a creator, and sustainer. 
 This conviction is inherent in every be- 
 ing " 
 
 " For God's sake — no, I mean for the 
 d — 's sake — for — Wellaud, stop speaking in 
 this strain ! My conviction of the folly 
 and falseness of all religious doctrines is 
 too deeply rooted, too firmly set to be torn 
 up by your words. All you may succeed 
 in is throwing doubts into a mind compar- 
 atively at peace, and embittering the last 
 moments of a man who has done with this 
 world and does not believe in any other." 
 
Differences. 359 
 
 '* But I conceive it to be my duty " 
 
 resumed Wellaud. 
 
 *'To make me miserable," interrupted 
 Hassel. 
 
 " No, Is it misery, when I assure a man 
 who expects perfect annihilation, that 
 there is life for him beyond the grave? 
 When I tell a soul that believes itself aban- 
 doned, cast away in the universe like a 
 flickering flame, that there is a loving God 
 who watches it, feels for it, pities it, and 
 will redeem it? Do not expect a stern 
 judge, but a loving father. Do not expect 
 punishment, but jjity that j^ou can not en- 
 ter into the perfection of angels, Only 
 rouse yourself to the idea. Does not every 
 thing high and noble in you respond to the 
 assurance that there is a Father and a God 
 above us?" 
 
 "No, it does not," returned Hassel, 
 bluntly. ** If I could entertain such a be- 
 lief it would fill me with burning hatred, 
 with deep anger against that being. Why, 
 if He is so just and wise, did He give me 
 these passions, these longings, these capac- 
 ities for evil? Why did He, as if the wick- 
 ed talents of my brain were not sufiicient, 
 spur me on in the path of sin by misfor- 
 tune, and unmerited disgrace ? And if He 
 wished me to be a scoundrel, whj'^ did He 
 fetter me by a turn for foolish hesitation, 
 which men call conscience, and which 
 spoiled most of my plans. And now I am 
 to be accountable for the results, which 
 were necessarily worked out by the cells 
 
360 Differences. 
 
 of a brain that I received, but did not 
 create? Bosh, Welland, you may make 
 your fortune as a preacher. As for my- 
 self, I respectfully decline your services in 
 that capacity. I have wished to see you 
 on another score than that of mj- soul and 
 salvation." 
 
 f-^" Well, Hassel, I am ready to serve 
 you." 
 
 " Thanks. When I was arrested, all my 
 l)apers were seized. Some have no relation 
 to the business I followed. I proved this 
 to the Provost Marshal, and he returned 
 them to me. I have added others, chiefly 
 depositions made by me and sworn to be- 
 fore the Provost Marshal. They are all in 
 this envelope. They are addressed to the 
 juinister of justice of the kingdom of Ba- 
 varia. Will you attend to their being sent 
 through the proper channels? I will receive 
 your assurance to that effect as a last fa- 
 vor." 
 
 *' They shall go. I will attend to them." 
 
 " And now, Welland, if ever you should 
 see—" 
 
 "I should see — " 
 
 "Ernestine! Oh, how I loved her! If 
 she had loved me with equal ardor, it might 
 have been different." 
 
 " Perhaps. What am T to do?" 
 
 " Tell her I died in battle. And my par- 
 ents—" 
 
 " Your parents ?" 
 
 " They are not worthy to be remembered. 
 Tell them I forgot that I ever possessed 
 parents." 
 
Differences. 361 
 
 "Will you send such a message?" 
 "I will. Let the old man rejoice in his 
 king, to -whom he has sacriticed his son. 
 As for iTie, I also have sacrificed my par- 
 ents to liberty, and I begin to understand 
 the feelings of those, who denounced their 
 fathers in the reign of terror, and escorted 
 them to the guillotine." 
 
 "This is terrible. Farewell, Hassel. I 
 am going." 
 
 •' You merely imitate everj'- one else in 
 leaving me; I can not complain of you. 
 Yet, Louis, let us part in a kindly spirit, as 
 we will probably never see each other 
 again. Let me return to dust to-morrow, 
 and do you ascend to heaven when your 
 time comes — that should not stand between 
 us now. Good bye, Louis, good hje, and 
 think of me sometimes, think of me as a 
 student." 
 
 Welland, with tears in his eyes, embrac- 
 ed the prisoner, and they parted for ever. 
 For ever ? Who shall saj' ? The mercj^ of 
 the Lord is infinite. 
 
 Next morning three regiments were 
 marched out, and arranged so as to form 
 three sides of a square. They all faced in- 
 ward. The fourth side was open, and 
 many looked thither with a shudder. At 
 last a solemn cortege approached. Some 
 drummers in advance with mutifled drums. 
 Then a detachment of infantry with pale 
 resolute faces. And at last an ambulance 
 containing a coffin, the prisoner, and a 
 clergyman. These were surrounded and 
 
362 Differences. 
 
 followed by a cavalry guard. A rrived at 
 the fourth side of the square, the ambu- 
 lance stopped. The coffin was taken out 
 and placed upon the ground. The prisoner 
 and the chaplain dismounted. The latter 
 again attempted to urge repentance and 
 faith with the former, and for the fiftieth 
 time was met with scorn and ridicule. The 
 detachment was marched into the square a 
 little distance, and then fronted upon the 
 prisoner. They took his coat off, and tied 
 his hands. Then they seated him upon his 
 coffin, and put a bandage over his eyes. 
 
 "Officer," he said, "be steady! Men, 
 aim well ! I don't want to be killed at sec- 
 ond hand. Those that can shoot may aim 
 at my head. The rest should make my 
 breast their mark. Is it all ready ?" 
 
 No, it was not. The men were com- 
 manded "Shoulder arms!" and then the 
 chaplain stepped forward and offered up a 
 long prayer. He was fervent and devout, 
 but the prisoner intermitted him by fre- 
 quent sounds of disgust. 
 
 " They keep me waiting," he said, " I 
 shall catch cold." 
 
 The chaplain retired. Then followed an 
 awful pause. Everj- eye flinched, and 
 every face was pale. It is terrible thus to 
 witness the deliberate destruction of a hu- 
 man being. It is like being killed one's 
 self. 
 
 Suddenly the voice of the officer rang 
 out : " Read3^ ! Aim ! Fire !" and Hassel's 
 body fell back covered with blood. 
 
Differences. 363 
 
 The surgeons went up and examined it. 
 Life was extinct. Two balls had pene- 
 trated the brain and three the chest. Any 
 single one of them would have sufficed. 
 Military justice was satisfied. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 In Claiborne County it was very quiet. — 
 The young men had all gone to war. There 
 was no business, and little effort to culti- 
 vate the land. No one knew but the Union 
 troops should occupy the country before 
 the crops could be gathered. And that the 
 Union troops did respect private property 
 was an opinion not much encouraged in the 
 South. Peoj^le went about in a listless man- 
 ner, planting enough to keep their families 
 and negroes, and taking interest in nothing 
 else but news from the seat of war. 
 
 At Pineland the family had grown very 
 quiet also, though this quiet vvas occasion- 
 ally broken by stormy scenes. Mrs. Gold- 
 man could not forget that Madame la Gen- 
 erate had encouraged Charles to enter the 
 service, and that her boy exposed his life 
 daily and hourly for principles and views 
 that were perfectly indifferent to her. On 
 the other, Madame la Generale hesitated 
 not to rebuke the craven spirit of her niece 
 in bitter terms. Mr. Goldman had bad 
 luck as peacemaker, as a quiet phlegmatic 
 man is apt to have when endeavoring to 
 pacify too high-spirited females. Between 
 
364 Differences. 
 
 Antonia and Mr. Sharp confidence was im- 
 paired. He rarely conversed -with her now 
 in private, and she was reserved and reti- 
 cent when these occasions occurred. Ex- 
 cept his daily game of cards with Madame 
 la Generale, he did not come much in con- 
 tact with the family. He had not ceased 
 to cultivate the estate, although his vexa- 
 tions were many. The young horses were 
 taken for the army, and confederate scrip, 
 in which he had lost faith, paid to him in 
 remuneration. The crops were seized by 
 military orders, or assessed highly in kiud. 
 There was no safety, no settled condition of 
 matters. People exchanged money in the 
 value of which they did not believe, and 
 that was enough to disorganize societ5\ 
 For if money is the root of evil, it is also 
 the root of order, and one might almost say 
 life, in the social sj^stemof the present day. 
 A reliable medium of exchange is the sine 
 qua non of a civilized condition of affairs. 
 
 Antonia dismounted from her pony in 
 front of the house, and entered the parlor. 
 Mrs. Waddlekins and Mrs. Armistead 
 were spending the afternoon at Pineland. 
 After greetings had been exchanged, there 
 was a general question of whether she had 
 come from town. 
 
 **I have," replied Antonja, "and there 
 is news." 
 
 *' From the army ? What is it ? A bat- 
 tle?" asked Mrs. Armistead, eagerly, while 
 Mrs. Goldman turned pale. 
 
 "There was no news when I left," said 
 
Differences. 365 
 
 Mrs. Waddlekins. "It must have come 
 since." 
 
 ** I heard it at the Mayor's house," re- 
 plied Antonia. "No battle. Only the 
 Yankees are coming to Tennessee." 
 
 "To these parts?" asked Mrs. Waddle- 
 kins. " We shall resist them." 
 
 " An army corps is coming," continued 
 Antonia, " under the command of Burn- 
 side." 
 
 " We shall provide another Fredericks- 
 burg for him," said Mrs. Waddlekins, 
 grandiloquently. " Let them come with 
 their beaten commanders ! The women of 
 Tennessee will be sufficient to put them to 
 flight." She arose, and extended her par- 
 asol in the manner of Washington holding 
 his sword on the picture. She succeeded 
 in looking so formidable in this attitude, 
 that it would have required a bold man to 
 attack, and a still bolder to have taken 
 her. 
 
 " Are they making any preparations to 
 resist?" inquired Mrs. Armistead, "Is 
 not the home guard going to tight?" 
 
 "What?" cried Madame la Generale. 
 "That undisciplined, drunken, ridiculous 
 canaille which you call home guard light? 
 Who is to be their leader? I look about 
 me. Where is the military genius ? And 
 if there were, could he do any thing with 
 the miserable mob you call home guard?" 
 
 "Your language is strong, Madame," 
 said Mrs. Waddlekins. " We have not the 
 liveried myrmidons of tyranny which you 
 
366 Differences. 
 
 may have seen in France, but we can fight 
 for our homes and hearth-stones neverthe- 
 less, and we will die in defense of them." 
 
 Madame replied by a shrug of her sharp 
 old shoulders and a contemptuous twitch 
 of the lip. 
 
 " But you are old, Madame," resumed 
 Mrs. Waddlekins, with irritation, "and 
 we can bear with j^onr opinions." 
 
 " Old enough," returned the other; "and 
 still not much older than you." 
 
 ''What an idea," cried Mrs, Waddlekins. 
 " It is evident that your memory is failing, 
 my poor, dear Madame." 
 
 "On the contrary, it is the most excel- 
 lent in the world ; for I still remember the 
 first appearance of certain dresses that must 
 have been made ages ago." 
 
 It was evident that she alluded to the 
 black satin, and Mrs. Waddlekins blushed 
 painfully. 
 
 "If so," she returned, "it should go 
 further back than that, and remind you 
 that if certain families may not now be 
 fortune's favorites, they have been once ; 
 the recollection that their wealth was sac- 
 rificed for a great purpose, and that our 
 greatest men were their friends is all that 
 remains to them, it is true." 
 
 "A thousand pardons," said Madame. 
 "I am an irritable old woman, and am 
 sorry to have offended you. You can not 
 imagine how my temper is roused," she 
 added, in a whisper, "by Sarah. A thou- 
 sand times dailv she blames me for Charles 
 
D I F F E E E N C E S . 367 
 
 being in the army. As if he could have 
 staid at home!" she raised her eyes and 
 hands to denote the utter futility of such 
 an expectation. " Charles had to go. I 
 comprehended that. He comprehended it. 
 Antonia comprehended it. But Sarah is 
 dull. She is unfortunately not only a 
 mother, but a goose." 
 
 "Orders have been received," Antonia 
 further reported, " that no resistance is to 
 be made. All the companies of the home 
 guard, that are tit for service, must report 
 at Knoxville. In the country it is recom- 
 mended that the grain be secreted, and the 
 valuables. Otherwise we are to remain 
 quiet." 
 
 '* And it is the most reasonable plan," 
 said Madame. "Armies must defend a 
 country, not every village, itself." 
 
 " Yet Paris defended itself against the 
 Allies," said Mrs. Armistead. 
 
 " Excuse me. Paris is not a village or a 
 city ; Paris is a country and a world in it- 
 self. Paris is France." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Armistead," said Mrs. 
 Goldman, " are you not constantly tremb- 
 ling for your Harrj^? I have dreadful 
 dreams about Charles. I have not had a 
 quiet night since he left us." 
 
 " But it is a necessity, and we must bear 
 it," said Mrs. Armistead. " Were I to lose 
 Harry, whom I love so dearly, I would 
 comfort myself with the idea, that he fell 
 in defense of his country and our liberties. 
 I am not only a mother, but also a woman 
 
368 Differences. 
 
 of the South. But God will preserve him 
 
 to me, I hope." 
 
 " I never could take comfort were any- 
 thing to happen to Charles,-' sighed Mrs. 
 Goldman. •* Country and liberty are bat 
 idcnts, and they would yield me no conso- 
 lation." 
 
 ** Countiy and liberty are realities to we," 
 returned the other lady, in a pointed man- 
 ner. " If they were not, I should not have 
 sent my most precious to battle in their 
 defense. But Mrs. Goldman," she added, 
 in a softer tone, '* nothing has happened to 
 Charles. Why will you insist In borrow- 
 ing trouble on his account ?" 
 
 "I can not help it! My tenderness for 
 my children will be the death of me." 
 
 " Have you any news of Colonel Tourte- 
 lotte?" 
 
 " He has not been exchanged as yet. We 
 had a note from him a week ago. It came 
 to Judge Ould, by flag of truce." 
 
 " How does Antonia feel about it? She 
 does not seem much depressed. Yet she 
 is quieter than formerly." 
 
 " The dear child bears up with courage. 
 She has stronger nerves than I. In fact it 
 is I who sutler from all the misfortunes of 
 the family. My aunt has a heart of iron." 
 
 " Madame Outon is strong-minded. Will 
 you remain here when the Yankees 
 come?" • 
 
 " I believe we shall. We never contem- 
 plated leaving Pineland in any case. It 
 would be abandoning it to destruction, I 
 believe." 
 
Differences. 369 
 
 '* Yes. The negroes would take possess- 
 ion. I think we shall go to Richmond. I 
 could not bear to see the enemy on our 
 land. I had rather that the house be 
 burnt, than that Yankees should inhabit 
 it." 
 
 Mrs. Waddlekins heard the last sentence. 
 She immediately took up the cue, and 
 said : 
 
 "I would die rather than extend hospi- 
 tality to the murderers of our husbands, 
 sons, and brothers." 
 
 Considering that Mrs. Waddlekins did 
 not possess a single relative of either of 
 these denominations, her offer was thought 
 ver}'- handsome by all present. 
 
 *' If you remain here," said Mrs. Armis- 
 tead, " while the Yankees are in possession, 
 you will be cut off from communication 
 with your son. Have you thought of that, 
 Mrs. Goldman?" 
 
 " No. And if that is the case, I shall not 
 stay. Aunt, what do vou think of going to 
 Richmond until affairs are settled in this 
 State? There are good French circles in 
 the capital." 
 
 "I shall not leave Pineland, except for 
 an excursion," returned Madame la Gen- 
 erale, " and it seems to me that the present 
 is no time for such a measure." 
 
 " But the Yankees " 
 
 " They will not swallow us alive." 
 
 "But we shall not be able to hear of 
 Charley." 
 
 " Our hearing of him has never yet done 
 24 
 
370 Differences. 
 
 us any gcod. You will have fewer nervous 
 
 headaches." 
 
 " What do i/o« say Antonia? Could v,e 
 not leave things in Mr. Sharp's care ?" 
 
 " Who runs away -when he sees a mus- 
 ket?" said Antonia, laughing. "We 
 should find him fortified in the cellar or 
 dead of fright at our return. I think we 
 had better stay, mother." 
 
 *' You have no affection for your brother. 
 Mrs. Armistead, how long a stay in Eich- 
 nioud. do you contemplate?" 
 
 " That will depend on circumstances," 
 returned that lady. "I shall come back 
 when the Yankees are driven away. It 
 will not be long, I think." 
 
 *' Father is coming," said Antonia. 
 
 Mr. Goldman entered, evidently in great 
 perturbation. He was followed by Mr. 
 Sharp. 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Armistead. How 
 are you, Mrs. Waddlekins? My respects 
 to you, Madame ! Sarah, my love, I have 
 bad news." 
 
 "Goldman, my life, you frighten me," 
 said the poor lady, turning pale. 
 
 " Will you do me the favor to take my 
 arm? Tbe ladies will excuse you," and he 
 conducted her to another room. 
 
 All turned to Sharp. " What is it ? Has 
 any thing happened?" was the general 
 question. 
 
 " A letter from master Charles has come," 
 said Sharp. 
 
 "Has he fallen on the field of honor?" 
 
Differences. 371 
 
 inquired Mrs. Wadcllckius, in a sepulchral 
 voice. 
 
 " No ma'am, and he is not going to, 
 either," replied Sharp, with great asperity. 
 " He is wounded, and a prisoner. He 
 merely wrote a line, and it came by flag of 
 truce. He was wounded while on a raid, 
 and had to remain in the next house. 
 There he was taken. And I hope they will 
 keep him, until the war is over." 
 
 "Poor mother," said Antonia, hastening 
 after her parents. 
 
 But Madame la Generale sat quiet for a 
 while. Then rising and shaking her curls, 
 she said with energy : " I shall go to him." 
 
 ** But Madame," urged Mrs. Armistead, 
 " consider your age ! You can not relj' for 
 courteous consideration on these barbari- 
 ans of the North. I would not advise you 
 to act upon first thoughts in this matter." 
 
 " I always act upon first thoughts, and I 
 rely upon no one but myself. I am going 
 to Charles. To-morrow I start for the 
 North," 
 
 " Aunt, I will go with you," said Anto- 
 nia, who returned at this moment. 
 
 "All the better, child. The rest must 
 stay here at Pineland. As the Yankees are 
 in the State, I shall not have much diffi- 
 culty in passing the lines." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Sharp, you will please see 
 to all the arrangements. I shall want sev- 
 eral thousand dollars in gold. One must 
 fee high, to procure indulgencies for a 
 prisoner. Write a letter to Moqueur & 
 24* 
 
372 Differences. 
 
 Lablache, to transmit my dividends to the 
 French Consul at New York, for I will be 
 absent for some time." 
 
 " Madame," replied Sharp, " all shall be 
 attended to. I have the honor de vous/aire 
 mes complimenisy 
 
 Mrs. Goldman grew quieter when she 
 heard of her aunt's resolution. Still she 
 was stricken down sorely. She said some- 
 thing about accompanying Madame la 
 Generale. But every body remonstrated, 
 and Madame declared that she would not 
 take her along on any consideration. 
 
 Next morning, Madame Outon and An- 
 tonia started on their journey. They were 
 accompanied by a trusty old negro servant 
 and a mulatto woman, who had been An- 
 tonia's nurse. Mrs. Goldman, with stream- 
 ing eyes, took leave of her aunt, and all 
 the household was assembled to see the 
 " ole misses," who had never stirred from 
 home except on short visits, depart for the 
 far North to take care of master Charley. 
 There were sly guesses that Miss Antonia 
 went along to see the Colonel, and one yel- 
 low girl timidly asked whether they would 
 bring back Ned to Pineland. As the sun 
 rose, our travelers were alreadj' far on 
 their way to the Pass. 
 
Differences. 373 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 It bad fared thus with Charles Goldman: 
 On a raid he liad been shot in the chest by 
 an indignant farmer, who, with three sons, 
 defended his premises. A large federal 
 force being in pursuit, his men were com- 
 pelled to leave him. After the departure 
 of the enemy, the farmer sallied forth and 
 took up the wounded. He had them re- 
 moved to his house, where they received 
 the best of care. There Charles lay until 
 his wound, which penetrated the right 
 lung, was declared to be healing. Then he 
 reported to the federal officer, who had 
 taken his parole when he found him at the 
 farm house. This officer took him to the 
 Provost Marshal of the army, and at his 
 request Charles' parole was renewed, and 
 made out in writing. Then he was sent to 
 New York, where he claimed to have 
 friends, who would vouch for him. In 
 case their bail was deemed satisfactory, the 
 Provost Marshal gave him permission to 
 remain at large until his wound was fully 
 healed. The sale of a ring enabled him to 
 reach New York in comfort. Still the ex- 
 ertion of the journey, and the anxiety 
 which preyed on his mind, caused a dan- 
 gerous relapse in his condition. He arriv- 
 ed at the metropolis, and had an alarming 
 hemorrhage from the lungs. This was 
 stopped, but had so weakened him that 
 the attending surgeon demanded authorita- 
 tively that his friends be sent for. He 
 
74 Differences. 
 
 named Merrins, who came in great alarm, 
 and showed the utmost sympathy. The 
 Provost Marshal accepted him as one of 
 the sureties, but required another. 
 
 He hesitated, but finally sent for Mr. 
 Reicheuau. When the old merchant ap- 
 peared, matters were set right at once, and 
 Charles was placed at his own disposal. 
 
 " I should have you removed at once to 
 mj^ house, my dear sir," said Mr. Reiche- 
 nau, " but for the comments this would 
 give rise to. My sisters' sense of the pro- 
 prieties would never permit so flagrant an 
 infraction of the code." 
 
 " Pray,make no excuses, "replied Charles, 
 " I shall do very well at the hotel. I am 
 already jonr debtor for unmerited kind- 
 
 " Do not say so. For I shall insist on 
 another matter. You must make me j-our 
 banker while in the North. Draw on me 
 for any sums you may need." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Charles, with a 
 blush. '* Our confederate notes do not go 
 far here. But I believe my friend Merrins 
 will—" 
 
 " Should be happy to do so, but am 
 pinched myself,"said Merrins. " Krakow- 
 witzer & Co. have made large investments, 
 and the money market is ver3^ tight. Bet- 
 ter accept A. Reicheuau 6z Co's offer. Very 
 handsome." 
 
 " You see, mj'- young friend,'"- said Mr. 
 Reichenau, kindly, " there is no one in this 
 city so well qualified to lend you money as 
 
Differences. 375 
 
 Diyself. I know where your father's estate 
 lies, and the reputation for wealth he en- 
 joys. So I know that my investment is a 
 safe one. You shall pay me interest, 
 usurious interest if you desire. But it 
 would he folly to refuse my offer. I am so 
 much older than you, that I may presume 
 to saj^ so." 
 
 " Well then, thank you," replied Charles, 
 grasping his hand. '* You shall have no 
 reason to complain of my reluctance any 
 further." And thus the matter was set- 
 tled. 
 
 Merrins remained with Charles. He had 
 been conveyed at first to the Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel, but now desired to be removed to 
 the C , one of the quiet aristocratic ho- 
 tels of which New York possesses several. 
 It forms one side of a quiet old square, 
 whose grand houses look upon a well kept 
 park in the center. This park is the pri- 
 vate property of the residents of the square, 
 and they only possess keys to it. The tur- 
 moil of the great city does not seem to 
 penetrate that region. The pavement is 
 little trodden. Few carriages roll past, 
 and they move with a muffled sound. 
 Trucks and carts of low degree are un- 
 known. The sunlight sleeps upon the 
 handsome front ol the houses, upon their 
 marble vases overrunning with vines, their 
 flower-patches and smooth lawns, as if the 
 busy mart of this continent were distant 
 many miles, instead of being close by. 
 The breeze sports with the trees of the park 
 
376 Differences. 
 
 as iftt was a lazy country breeze, and not a 
 wind expected to propel the numerous 
 vessels dail3^ starting from that port. The 
 very air is pure and quiet. 
 
 Charles was soon settled in a tasty, 
 fresh looking suit of rooms, and Merrins 
 m,ade himself useful in arranging matters 
 according to the young man's directions. 
 The poor fellow lay stretched out upon the 
 sofa, weak and breathless, yet scarcely 
 able to realize his condition. Nervous ex- 
 citement had endoAved him with an ap- 
 pearance of strength that was deceptive. 
 Neglecting the doctor's charge to keep 
 quiet, he endeavored to converse with Mer- 
 rins. 
 
 " You did not expect to see me here in 
 this condition," he inquired, *' did you?" 
 
 "How could I?" said Merrins. "Beg 
 your pardon, may I smoke here? The 
 doctor hasn't forbidden it ?" 
 
 " Light your cigar. Xo interdiction." 
 
 The other did so, and puffed awaj^ 
 
 " How could I expect to see you here," 
 he resumed, " and in this condition. But 
 probably they forced you to enter the 
 army." 
 
 " No. I entered of my own accord. I 
 left New York for the very purpose." 
 
 " You must have knoAvu why. There is 
 money to be made in every i)rofe§sion, if 
 one is but smart. Did you make much?" 
 
 " My salary. About a hundred and 
 forty dollars a month, in confederate scrip. 
 Enough to furnish me in gloves." 
 
Differences. 377 
 
 "Yon are joking. You never exposed 
 your life for that, though I account it folly 
 to expose one's life at any rate." 
 
 "You are correct. I exposed it to de- 
 fend mx country's rights." 
 
 "Pshaw. Don't tlirow such words at 
 me. These are phrases for Gentiles. What 
 has a Jew to do with countrj^ or rights ?" 
 
 "Why not as much as the Gentile?" 
 
 " Because we have no country, and no 
 acknowledged rights. Yes, they pretend 
 to give us rights here, but 'tis only because 
 they acknowledge the principle in general, 
 and can't make a special exception. Our 
 country is our money, and the power and 
 influence it gives us ; these are our only 
 acknowledged rights." 
 
 "What monstrous doctrine. You don't 
 believe in it yourself. It is quite preposter- 
 ous." 
 
 "Don't I? Indeed I do. We aie Jews, 
 and have some right to such doctrine. But 
 the Yankees tread pretty closely on our 
 heels. Did you sell cotton ?" 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 "To traders that run the lines. Oh, 
 don't keep up these pretensions to me. 
 You never put on a soldier's coat for noth- 
 ing." 
 
 "I put it on to fight." 
 
 " Fight? A nice occupation for a Jew." 
 
 " A proper occupation for any one, whose 
 rights are threatened." 
 
 "But you have no rights or wrongs in 
 the affair. The only right that has been 
 
378 Differences. 
 
 left to us is to gain wealth, and the only 
 
 wrong we can lear is to be deprived of it." 
 
 " Don't let us talk of these questions," 
 said Charles. "We hold different opinions 
 on this point, and we needn't discuss the 
 subject. How have A'ou fared since I saw 
 you last?" 
 
 " Very well, thank heaven. I am mar- 
 ried now." 
 
 "I congratulate you." 
 
 '' And have a baby." 
 
 " That's a natural consequence. I wish 
 you joy." 
 
 " Thank you. You never saw a finer 
 baby in all your life. It's just cut the 
 front teeth. Every body says it looks 
 like me." 
 
 "Of course it does. Babies always look 
 like some body, and generally like their 
 fathers. Who did you marry?" 
 
 " Krakow witzer & Co., Gents' Clothing 
 and Furnishing Goods, Chatham street. It 
 was an excellent affair all around." 
 
 " So you are happy ?" 
 
 " Perfectly. They took me in partner- 
 ship at once, accepting my notes as capital. 
 But they knew why." 
 
 " Of course. You are an energetic busi- 
 ness man." 
 
 " Mr. Goldman, I can take an oath on it 
 that I got our firm three heavy contracts 
 cheaper than any other man in the world 
 could have done. I never bribed the 
 clerks or favorites. I always went to the 
 chief men themselves, or better still, to 
 
D I F F E R K N C E S . 379 
 
 their wives. Offer a woman a good heavy 
 round sum of money, and she'll make her 
 husband leap over the moon to earn it. 
 And the expense is less, though the risk is 
 greater than bribing small people." 
 
 " So 3^ou bribe officials up North here." 
 
 "Just as they do down South, and out 
 west, and east. Nobody gives himself 
 trouble for nothing." 
 
 •' Were your profits great ?" 
 
 " We made a fortune, a fortune, sir. 
 Then we freighted a vessel to run the 
 blockade with English goods and arms, 
 and she came into Charleston handsomely. 
 She carried back cotton. The next trip was 
 to Matamoras. After that, we sold her. 
 Now we ought to have stopped. But we 
 speculated in gold and lost heavily," 
 
 " That is risky business." 
 
 " It is, it is. We shall have to work for 
 another contract, or run the blockade again 
 to retrieve. After all, I might have done 
 better in marrying Lowenmaul Bros. But 
 I am satisfied with Krakowwitzer &, Co. 
 You must come and see our baby. It 
 looks ever so cunning with its foot in its 
 mouth. It's a perfect beauty." 
 
 At last Merrins left, promising to send a 
 trusty man to wait on Charles, and nurse 
 him. Nor was it long before the expected 
 nurse made his appearance. It was a dr3% 
 middle-aged person, of a set quiet demean- 
 or. His name was Moses Useful. Without 
 awaiting any orders, he took hold of 
 Charles, undressed him, and put him to 
 
380 Differences. 
 
 bed. Then he trotted down-stairs with his 
 brisk muffled step, found the steward, pro- 
 cured a cup of nice tea, a couple of pieces 
 of toast, and a soft boiled egg, and brought 
 them to the patient. 
 
 "I don't want any thing," said Charles, 
 laj-ing back in utter exhaustion, and mo- 
 tioning him awaj''. 
 
 But Moses Useful was accustomed to sick 
 folks. He simply propped the young man's 
 head up, and held the cup to his lips with 
 the word : " Drink." 
 
 A few swallows were taken, and then 
 Moses presented a slice of toast, with the 
 equally laconic direction : " Eat." 
 
 Thus the food disappeared, and the pa- 
 tient fell asleep. Next morning he awoke 
 in high fever. The doctor declared that he 
 was much worse. The bodily exertion 
 and excitement of mind of the day before, 
 together with theeffectsof the hemorrhage, 
 combined to produce the most alarming 
 symptoms. In the afternoon, delirium set 
 in. When Mr. Reichenau called before go- 
 ing home to dinner, he found Charles rav- 
 ing wildly, while Moses Useful was watch- 
 ing at the bedside with an anxious counte- 
 nance. As soon as he saw the old gentle- 
 man, he vociferated : 
 
 " You have just left her. What is she 
 doing. She is not married to Welland, is 
 she? Why don't you speak? Oh, mj' 
 beauty, my love, my Emma," he added, 
 softly, " it was all a mistake. You never 
 cared for him, did you?" and then, wildly 
 
Differences. 381 
 
 springing up, he cried : " Charge boys, 
 charge ! Give it to them ! First the pistol, 
 then the sword. See them run !" And in 
 this manner, all the evening. At night he 
 was quieter. Moses kept ice on his head. 
 In the morning he awoke in a low mutter- 
 ing condition. 
 
 When Mr. Reichenau called in the after- 
 noon, he found him thus. As he left, he 
 beckoned Moses out and inquired : 
 
 " What does the doctor say ?" *» 
 
 '* Shakes his head and says nothing." 
 
 " Did he continue to rave all of yesterday 
 evening." 
 
 " Yes. He was wild till midnight." 
 
 ^' His mind seems to run on a lad^^, and 
 on fighting." 
 
 *' I don't know. I never listen to what 
 they say." 
 
 " Don't let any strangers in, while he is 
 in that condi:)ion." 
 
 " Nobody wants to come in," and Moses 
 resumed his place at his bedside. 
 
 On the next day, the delirium was over. 
 The patient grew conscious and reasona- 
 ble. A state of great debility, of entire 
 prostration, followed. The poor white face 
 grew almost transparent in its wan blood- 
 lessness, and the gentle blue eyes, inordi- 
 nately large and languid, seemed to gaze 
 around without much perception. Lips 
 and nostrils were as of wax. The golden 
 hair threw its pale splendors over this 
 countenance, that seemed to belong more 
 
382 Differences. 
 
 to the grave than to a denizen of the nether 
 
 world. 
 
 While in this state, a condition of hoi)e- 
 lessness and discouragement prevailed that 
 made the doctor look graver every daj. 
 The fact was, the patient was sinking. He 
 could hide it no longer from himself, and 
 he communicated it to Mr. Merrins, and 
 Mr. Reichenau. The former shook his 
 head sadly, and went off to see old Mr. 
 Hxgood about it. The latter considered 
 for a while, and then stepped into Charles' 
 room, and said to him, in a low" yoice : 
 
 " Mr. Goldman, you^have never inquired 
 about Emma." 
 
 The patient started violently, and turned 
 his eyes upon the speaker. 
 
 ** You used to be friends, I think. Emma 
 takes much interest in you. She asks me 
 daily, and I am sorry not to be able to give 
 better reports of your recovery." 
 
 Charles smiled faintly. " Mr. Eeiche- 
 nau," he said, *' will j^ou grant me one 
 more favor. You have been so kind to 
 me." 
 
 "If it be in my power." 
 
 " I think it is. I feel that I am dying. I 
 shall not last many days more. Prevail 
 on Emma to see me ere I die." 
 
 " To come here ? Consider for a moment, 
 That is impossible." 
 
 " She is not married, or engaged to be ? 'j 
 
 "Neither the one, nor the other." 
 
 " Xo one can object then, but the lady or 
 yourself. Will you consent, if she does? " 
 
Differences. 383 
 
 " It is impossible. At least give me 
 time. I will tell you to-morrow." 
 
 *' Please do," and the patient closed his 
 eyes, and heaved a weary sigh. 
 
 Mr. Reichenaii threw one more look at 
 the poor emaciated youth with the ice 
 bladder on his Avounded chest, and then 
 went his way thoughtfully. Matters had 
 taken a turn he did not anticipate. He 
 must consult with his daughter on this 
 point. ; 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 Old Mr. Hygood was a character. He 
 was a type of the noblest class of medieval 
 Jews, as they existed at a time when out- 
 side oppressions had forced home benev- 
 olence into an exuberant growth, and when 
 the harsh bigotry of the Gentile produced 
 among the Israelites an exceeding charity 
 toward any of different opinions. His be- 
 nevolence was not that of modern times, 
 that organizes societies for systematic and 
 discriminating relief of the poor. It was 
 that old fashioned, spontaneous, truly hu- 
 mane benevolence which put its hand into 
 its pocket when it saw a fellow-creature in 
 need, without asking whether he deserved 
 it, or when he had been relieved last. 
 Every poor man applied to him. If little 
 was needed, he gave it of his own store. 
 If much, he went about and collected it. If 
 there was sickness, none#o kind a nurse 
 
384 Differences. 
 
 as be. If there "was death, he undertook 
 the arrangements, and had the corpse 
 washed, and shrouded, and buried, with- 
 out forcing the relatives to enter into the 
 harrowing details. Came a stranger to 
 town, poor and sick, he took him to the 
 hospital. Had he a family, he looked for 
 lodgings, had fuel carted, and flour, and 
 other necessaries, and assisted personally 
 in the arrangement of the furniture. But 
 not only was he charitable to the poor, but 
 also to the rich. Wherever grief entered, 
 in the tenement of the Jew pauper, or in the 
 mansion of the millionaire, old Mr. H^^- 
 good was summoned to comfort the sick 
 with his kindly ways, or to administer to 
 the dying the consolations of religion. He 
 was eminently one who recalled the hero 
 of Leigh Hunt's " Abou Ben Adhem,*' for 
 he "loved his fellow-men." Old Mr. Hy- 
 good has been so minutely described, be- 
 cause such characters belong to the old 
 times, and are passing away from among 
 us. He was not a good man because he 
 was a good Jew, but a good Jew because 
 he was a good man. 
 
 This venerable gentleman entered 
 Charles' room with Merrins next morning. 
 He greeted the young man with a kindly 
 smile, and said ; 
 
 " Your friend thought that you were go- 
 ifig already, but I see it isn't as bad as 
 that. I've seen many recover that were 
 worse than you. Are you comfortable ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, b^fc quite weak," replied 
 
DiPPBRENCES. 385 
 
 Charles, glancing at Merrins with a look of 
 inquiry. 
 
 " I was afraid something might happen, 
 my friend," said the latter, "and so I 
 brought Mr. Hygood to read to you the 
 customary prayers." 
 
 "Which wont be necessary," rejoined 
 the old gentleman. " I have seen a great 
 many sick, and I believe you will recover. 
 Is there any thing I can do to cheer you. 
 If you want to write home, I will see that 
 the letter goes South." 
 
 " Can you ? 1 am much obliged to you." 
 
 *' Send me the letter to-morrow. I know 
 several who go to Metamoras. And now 
 good morning. Your friend will outlive 
 me, Mr. Merrins. I shan't say any death 
 prayers for him, or I am sadly mistaken." 
 
 So Moses Useful took paper and pencil 
 and indited a note from Charles' dictation, 
 which the young man signed. It was 
 transmitted to Mr. Hygood the same day, 
 and went at once to Pineland by way of 
 Metamoras. 
 
 On that day, Mr. Reichenau, after break- 
 fast, turned suddenly to his daughter, and 
 said: 
 
 " Emma, come into the library." The 
 young lady followed him in great aston- 
 ishment, leaving aunt Margaret behind, no 
 less astonished. Mr. Reichenau sat down 
 in a large fauteul and gazed at his daugh- 
 ter, who stood before him with one hand 
 leaning on the table, and her head slightly 
 bent. She was dressed ill white muslin, 
 25 
 
886 Differences. 
 
 trimmed with fanciful figures in black 
 braid. There was a single rosebud on her 
 breast, and a pink ribbon confined her 
 hair. The father delighted in the beauty 
 of the daughter. Yet he could not conceal 
 from himself that that beauty had lost it« 
 first brilliancy, and that the marble-like 
 form remained, without the life-spirit that 
 used to animate it. 
 
 " Emma, I wish to hear the truth from 
 you to-day — " 
 
 *' Father, have you ever heard ought 
 else from me?" 
 
 ^' No. But I am about to inquire into a 
 matter that parents generally think them- 
 selves entitled to be informed on, but that 
 I have never thought it proper to ask 
 about." 
 
 " You are as serious as a church, father. 
 Have I offended you ?" asked Emma, ten- 
 derly. She had grown much softer in 
 manner. 
 
 "No, child. It is not displeasure that 
 makes me serious. Let me see. Mr. Gold- 
 man has paid some attention to you ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied the girl, casting down her 
 eyes. " Before the war." 
 
 "Has he done any thing further? Tell 
 me all." 
 
 " He has asked me to be his wife." 
 
 " And you have rejected him. Is it so?" 
 
 "It is," replied Emma, with a sigh. 
 
 "Queer girl! I can't make her out," 
 said Mr. Reichenau to himself, taking a 
 turn through the room. 
 
Differences. 387 
 
 " I do not insist upon your answer," he 
 resumed, "but I should like to know for 
 what reason?" 
 
 " For several," replied Emma, in a low 
 voice. " Chiefly because I thought him ef- 
 feminate, and wanting in manliness." 
 
 "What?" cried the father, staring. 
 " Our papers call him one of the boldest 
 cavalry oflicers of the South, and he has 
 led more successful charges than any other 
 man in their service." 
 
 " I know it," replied the girl. *' Any 
 thing more, father?" 
 
 " Yes. Has Colonel Welland ever paid 
 you any particular attentions? You are 
 blushing ! You need not give any other 
 reply. Poor Goldman !" 
 
 "You are mistaken, father," cried 
 Emma, vehemently. " Colonel Welland 
 is nothing to me but a friend, a dear 
 friend." 
 
 "I understand that. Nevermind. Yoa 
 need not explain." 
 
 " But, father, will you not believe my 
 solemn assurance?" 
 
 ** Certainly ; the consequence of your 
 blushing cheeks." 
 
 " No, the assurance of my lips. Colonel 
 Welland can never be more to me than a 
 friend. Upon my soul, he can not !" 
 
 "Why?" inquired the old man, "I 
 thought your blushes of before told a dif- 
 ferent tale. Where is the obstacle? For- 
 tune?" 
 
 " Do not think so meanly of me, father ! 
 25* 
 
388 Differences. 
 
 Fortune is not the obstacle. As for my 
 blushes, they arise from ether emotions 
 than afifection." 
 
 ** Not from shame ! My daughter has 
 nothing to be ashamed of. What is it 
 about Colonel Welland? I thought he 
 was attentive to you ?" 
 
 *' He is engaged to a young lady from the 
 South ; to Mr. Goldman's sister. But it is 
 a secret as yet." 
 
 "Whew!" and the old gentleman took 
 another turn through the room, while 
 Emma maintained her position at the ta- 
 ble. Finally Mr. Reichenau resumed his 
 chair, and took another look at the tall, 
 handsome figure before him. 
 
 ** You have something to say to me," re- 
 marked Emma. " Let me hear it at once." 
 
 *' Yes. Only give me time to recover 
 from my surprise. He is engaged to Mr. 
 Goldman's sister. Hm, Hm! I am very 
 sorry to hear this, very sorry." 
 
 *' What!" cried Emma, with a deep and 
 painful flush upon her countenance. "Why 
 should you be sorry, father?" 
 
 " I need not tell you, child. But I am 
 very sorry." 
 
 *' You surprise me. There is no occasion 
 for sorrow or regret." Her features grew 
 hard and proud as she said this, and her 
 eyes flamed in magnificent scorn. " I am 
 well content." 
 
 " What do you know about it ? I say, 
 that this is bad news for me." 
 
 This was more than Emma could well 
 
Differences. 389 
 
 endure. Her father's expressions of re- 
 gret, which she thought were elicited by 
 the fact that WeUand could not become hi& 
 son-in-law, seemed to her not only in bad 
 taste, but altogether too strong. So ^e 
 said coldly : 
 
 •* I know enough to be able to say that 
 you should not regret it on my account. I 
 am content and happy — " 
 
 ♦' What has that to do with it?" said Mr. 
 Reichenau, looking curiously at his daugh- 
 ter. " One of my heaviest debtors in Ten- 
 nessee told me that he was as good as en- 
 gaged to Miss Goldman, and would build 
 up his estate with her money. If she mar- 
 ries Colonel Welland, I wouldn't give much 
 for the debt on Mr. Tourtelotte's estate." 
 
 " Oh !" and Emma was about to retire in 
 great confusion, when her father detained 
 her by taking her hand. 
 
 " Emma," he said. " I have told you of 
 Charles Goldman, and his condition. The 
 doctor says that he will probably die. He 
 has asked me to let him see you once 
 more." 
 
 *' And you have consented?" she asked, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I said : it was impossible. It would 
 give rise to Amments." 
 
 " Had you the heart to do it, and he d3''- 
 ing?" 
 
 " It was hard, I know. However, he 
 persisted, and referred the matter to you. 
 He asked that you might decide." 
 
 " Is he so low ?" 
 
390 D I F F E R> N C E S . 
 
 " He is in that condition when a hair 
 may turn the scales. He has been running 
 down; but then his will is relaxed, he 
 makes no effort, he does not try to get well. 
 Considering all this, and the fact that if 
 his nervous jDower was roused, it might 
 save his life, I have consented that you 
 should see him, if you yourself decide 
 for it." 
 
 " Thank you, father, thank you !" 
 
 "You will see him, then? Have you 
 considered?" 
 
 " I have considered that I may save the 
 life of a brave man." 
 
 " And imperil the reputation of a pretty 
 girl." 
 
 " I don't care for the scandal-mongers. 
 Do you? Aunt Mag goes with me, of 
 course." 
 
 "Of course. But there is another j^oint. 
 Is it right to awaken hopes, which after- 
 ward you may be compelled to disap- 
 point?" 
 
 " Don't inquire, father. Let matters take 
 their course. I will order the carriage for 
 eleven. Good morning." 
 
 And with a radiant face, she kissed him, 
 and ran up-stairs. He was puzzled and 
 pleased. In truth, he had Ifpirned much 
 of Charles Goldman in the last few days, 
 and not only respected, but liked him. 
 The latter feeling was augmented by his 
 peculiar position, with no friend near him 
 but Mr. Reichenau, who, in a measure, 
 considered himself now the sole protector 
 
Differences. 391 
 
 of the young man. He knew enough of 
 the circumstances of the Goldman family, 
 to feel easy on the score of fortune, and so 
 he determined to let things take their 
 course, and even help them along if neces- 
 sary. His constantly increasing desire to 
 have a son-in-law who would be a reliable 
 hefp to him in business, and whose pres- 
 ence would at once brighten the now quiet 
 mansion on Fifth Avenue, had much to do 
 with his decision. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, aunt Margaret, who, 
 after a stormy address by her niece, had 
 surrendered the point of etiquette and prom- 
 ised to accompany her, appeared in the 
 parlor, ready to go out. Emma joined her 
 there, and both ladies entered the carriage, 
 
 and were driven to the C Hotel. Thej- 
 
 sent their cards up, and waited, aunt Mar- 
 garet in nervous agitation, and Emma in a 
 state of excitement that she could not mas- 
 ter. Her face turned all manner of colors. 
 Her eyes were brilliantly joyful at one mo- 
 ment, and cast down the next. In vain 
 she tried to prescribe some rule for her 
 conduct toward Charles. It was impossi- 
 ble to control her thoughts. 
 
 The maid returned, and conducted them 
 to Charles' room. Aunt Margaret entered 
 first, and passing through the sitting-room 
 stepped up to the bed, and said : " My poor 
 dear friend !" 
 
 Emma followed her, and in a moment 
 they were face to face. 
 
 There he lay with his white transparent 
 
392 Differences. 
 
 face; bis large burning e^-es were fixed 
 upon ber, as if bis life bung upon tbat gaze. 
 Tbe man sbe bad rejected. Wbom she had 
 thought an efifeminate dandy. And tbe 
 ugly wound, but lightly concealed by tbe 
 bandkercbief thrown over it, seemed to cry 
 out and ask, as be bad once done: " Have 
 you no heart?" 
 
 "I am deeply grateful for your kind- 
 ness," said Charles at last, in tbat low 
 thrilling voice which penetrates tbe heart. 
 "I sball tbe less regret to die a stranger in 
 a strange land." 
 
 " To die !" said aunt Margaret. " Let us 
 bope tbat it is not so bad. You are young. 
 You must make an effort." 
 
 " Why ?" said Charles. " I have nothing 
 to live for except mj'- country, and sbe will 
 find abler defenders." 
 
 "You are speaking sinful words," re- 
 turned tbe old lady. *' You bave much to 
 live for. What a fine view of the park," 
 sbe continued, stepping to tbe window, 
 and looking out. 
 
 Tbe young people were left alone, or as 
 good as alone. Emma bad been unable to 
 articulate a syllable. Sbe was deeply 
 touched by tbe looks of Charles, wbom sbe 
 recollected, brigbt, brilliant, and overflow- 
 ing with bealtb and vitality. As be gazed 
 at ber witb those large spectral eyes in 
 wbose deptbs tbe burning love of tbe man 
 found expression, ber tender pity gave 
 way to emotions more tumultuous. She 
 felt tbat joyous tbrob, which seems tbe es- 
 
Differences. 393 
 
 senceofall the glories of life, and which 
 only the presence of a lover can awaken in 
 a maiden's bosom, or the sight of the be- 
 loved in that of man. Impulsive as ever, 
 she seized his hand, and cried: "Charles, 
 forgive me !" 
 
 "Forgive you! Emma — ," and his eyes 
 grew troubled. " You have done me no 
 wrong. And had you, this kindness would 
 atone for it all. Pardon me," and he 
 pressed her hand to his white lips. 
 
 " Charles, I have thought often of you. 
 When you saw me last I was a rash, in- 
 considerate girl, that did not know her own 
 heart. I have changed since then. I am a 
 woman now, and oh, Charles, I feel that I 
 have not acted right toward you." 
 
 " Emma, for God's sake, do not tell me 
 now, when life is ebbing away, that there 
 was happiness in store lor me yet ! Emma, 
 say it is not so!" 
 
 She bowed her head, and wept bitterly. 
 
 " Yet, tell me ! Let me die happy ! Had 
 I lived, could you have loved me, Emma? 
 dear girl, tell me ; speak !" 
 
 Instead of any reply whatever, she 
 wound her arms around his neck and kiss- 
 ed him passionately, while the tears from 
 her eyes trickled over his face. His arms 
 closed around her, and for a moment there 
 was an unbroken silence in the room. 
 From without, the rustle of the trees in the 
 summer wind, and the low thrilling call of 
 the female birds could be heard. Aunt 
 Margaret turned and saw that passionate 
 
394 Differences. 
 
 embrace, saw the commingling of tbe 
 sunny hair with the black. She approach- 
 ed softly. At that moment, Charles' arms 
 relaxed and dropped at his side. Emma 
 raised her face, and gave one look, then 
 leaped up wildly, and cried : 
 *' He is dead, he is dead !" 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 He was not dead, he had only fainted. 
 Moses Useful appeared on the scene with 
 restoratives, and in a short time Charles 
 opened his eyes, and faintly attempted to 
 seize the hand of the sobbing girl at his 
 bedside. But now aunt Margaret inter- 
 fered, and said : 
 
 '' We are doing j-ou harm, Mr. Goldman. 
 Good b\^e. If you behave well, we will re- 
 turn soon." Without much further ado 
 she led Emma off, and drawing that young 
 lady's veil over her face, managed to get her 
 into the carriage, without other manifesta- 
 tions of hysterics than a violent trembling. 
 The coachman was ordered to drive home. 
 
 "A fine morning's work, child, I am 
 afraid the poor fellow wont get over it. It 
 was highly imprudent in me to let you talk 
 to him," she said. 
 
 " Not at all, aunt," replied Emma, " I 
 feel sure now that he will recover. But 
 oh, I can't tell you how I felt when I 
 thought him dead." 
 
DiPFERKNCES. 395 
 
 '* Your partiality has arisen quite sud- 
 denly, child." 
 
 "As these things do. I feel like a chang- 
 ed being. At first I experienced great pity 
 for h m. Then I yearned to comfort him. 
 When I thought he was dying, I put ap- 
 pearances aside. And when he kissed nie 
 the spell was complete. It tilled me with 
 love." 
 
 *• Emma, I will not hear such unmaiden- 
 ly sentiments. I request that you remem- 
 ber the respect due to me, if you are deter- 
 mined to forget yourself. You are in a 
 state of exaltation." 
 
 " I am, aunt, and I care not to hide it. 
 Dear aunty, 1 must talk to some one. 
 Don't forbid me, please." 
 
 " But Emma, how often have I urged 
 that you practice the necessary self-con- 
 trol ? It is the garment with which we 
 cover the nakedness of our sentiments, not 
 only to hide them from the world's gaze, 
 but also protect them from its attacks." 
 
 " But I don't care for the world just now. 
 I am happy." 
 
 " You were always romantic, and j^our 
 father did all he could to encourage your 
 fantastic notions. I wash my hands of this 
 affair." 
 
 " The De Wolfs are stopping at our door. 
 Shall I have the carriage turn ?" 
 
 ** No, they have seen us." The vehicle 
 proceeded, and Mrs. and Miss DeWolf 
 were encountered, and taken in. 
 
 Aunt Margaret was rather pleased to 
 
396 Differences. 
 
 meet them at this moment. Several of 
 
 their circle were guests at the C Hotel, 
 
 and she was aware that their visit to 
 Charles had been noticed. So like a good 
 matadore, she determined to take the bull 
 by the horns. The party were scarce seated 
 in the parlor, when, w ith great liveliness, 
 she said to the elder lady: 
 
 " Where do you think we have been, 
 ma'am ? Guess." 
 
 " How can I?" replied the other. *' Per- 
 haps with Miss Canfield, the bride. Have 
 you seen the diamond set Mr. Gray gave 
 her?" 
 
 " No, we have not been there. Have we, 
 Emma?" 
 
 Emma was confused. She did not ap- 
 preciate the tactics ot her aunt. So she 
 murmured an indistinct negative. 
 
 " I am sure I can not guess. Can you 
 Amanda? Do tell us." 
 
 " Well, my dear friend, we have been to 
 see a gentleman." 
 
 "What? visited a gentleman?" cried 
 Mrs. DeWolf. " His wife, you mean." 
 
 " No. For he has no wife. Actually, 
 has no wife." 
 
 "A single gentleman !" exclaimed Aman- 
 da. " Then it was at an early picnic or 
 breakfast party, and some ladymaternized 
 it. Who could it have been. I haven't 
 heard of the affair." 
 
 ♦' Neither picnic, nor breakfast," replied 
 aunt Mag. " A simple morning visit to an 
 unmarried gentleman at his own rooms. 
 
Differences. 397 
 
 Isn't it horrid ! And of all things in the 
 world, we found him in bed." 
 
 Mrs. DeWolf grew very serious. But 
 Amanda said laughingly : 
 
 ** Now I understand ; some old bachelor 
 relative at the point of death, who is going 
 to leave you unnumbered thousands." 
 
 *' No indeed. Aunt is teasmg you," said 
 Emma. "We went to see Mr. Charles 
 
 Goldman at the C Hotel, where he is 
 
 wounded and a prisoner." 
 
 "What!" cried both ladies. And Mrs. 
 DeWoif added frigidly: "You must take a 
 great interest in the young gentleman." 
 
 " We do," replied Emma. " Aunt Mar- 
 garet has always felt maternally disposed 
 toward him, and when she insisted on go- 
 ing, I offered to accompany her, to save the 
 proprieties. Wasn't that right ?" 
 
 " People have different opinions regard- 
 ing these things, and it is best not to dis- 
 cuss such differences," replied Mrs. DeWolf 
 with reserve. " But we are really making 
 quite a stay, when I only called to bid you 
 good morning. Now come to see me soon. 
 I suppose you will have some news to com- 
 municate when you see me next." And 
 the ladies took their departure. 
 
 " That is the Avay the world will judge of 
 it, Emma," said aunt Margaret, looking 
 after the DeWolf carriage. 
 
 " I do not care. If that girl had known 
 Charles was in town, she would have come 
 to see him, mother or 
 the young lady, haughtily. 
 
39S Differences. 
 
 And thus it was. Miss DeAVolf was full 
 of bitter regrets. Wounded and a prisoner, 
 helpless and deserted in New York. What 
 a chance for a lady merciful to step in and 
 win his heart. How romantic, to take 
 care of him all in secret, nurse him, per- 
 haps save his life, and when people got to 
 talk about it, appear as the bride of the 
 wealthy and handsome Southerner, whose 
 bravery was the general theme ! But now 
 Emma had done all that, and she must be 
 punished for it. Breathing revenge, the 
 two ladies continued their calls, and at 
 each house, told a longer and more mirac- 
 ulous story of Emma's indiscretion, and 
 the perfect impropriety ot sanctioning such 
 a thing, as her aunt seemed to do. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Charles lay on his 
 couch, recovering from the effects of the 
 shock, which too much joy had occasioned. 
 Ho was very weak, and he seemed to him- 
 self light as a feather. The rustle of the 
 trees fell on his ear with a dreamy sound, 
 and the varying lights and shades as thej' 
 swept to and fro, with each breath of the 
 wind, seemed to carry him with them, like 
 the waves of a sea. When he closed his 
 eyes, delightful visions dawned on him. 
 Beseemed tioating in the blue empyrean, 
 with the clouds below him spreading their 
 masses of scarlet, purple and gold, and the 
 stars revolving on either hand in luminous 
 circles. Far below, hung the burning sun 
 and the pale moon ; still lower, was the 
 earth, w^ith the vast sea and lofty moun- 
 
Differences. 399 
 
 tains. He could hear the music of the 
 spheres, and the voice of the planets, as 
 they praised the Lord. And he gently 
 floated away, rocked as if on summer 
 waves, and drifted, drifted into the Infin- 
 ite, where sight and hearing ceased, and 
 the only consciousness of existence was in- 
 • tense joy that filled the soul, and over- 
 flowed. 
 
 Moses Useful could not enter into these 
 spiritual delights. He roused Charles from 
 his dreams of glory to a reality that con- 
 sisted of tea and a soft-boiled egg. Nor did 
 the young man neglect to do justice to 
 them. And then he relapsed into visions. 
 Embarked on a boat of silver, he floated 
 down a broad river. Balmy breezes fan- 
 ned his silken sails. On either side, lofty 
 palms waved their broad-leaved crests, and 
 wondrous flowers nodded over the rushing 
 water. But from the bosom of the river 
 arose the Lotos, that mysterious lily, whose 
 form is the essence of grace, and whose 
 perfume intoxicates the mariner. They 
 rose higher and higher M'ith their crystal 
 petals, and seemed to crowd around him, 
 and breathe upon him with warm passion- 
 ate breaths, until' they took away his own, 
 and the excess of pleasure became pain. 
 
 Again Moses Useful appeared with a bit 
 of steak, and some brandy and water. 
 Charles partook once more, and relapsed 
 again. A desert spread around him. The 
 immense space was yellow sand, bright 
 and merciless, burning in the rays of the 
 
400 Differences. 
 
 sun. The sky was glowing as if of red-hot 
 copper. The earth was dry as if of molten 
 brass. No cloud, no vegetation. The eye 
 lost itself in the contemplation of the sky 
 and the sand. Then he seemed to fly on 
 broad wings over this desert, striving to 
 reach the end, yet never seeing it. On and 
 on, and yet far as the eye could see, burn- ' 
 ing desert. 
 
 Moses Useful interfered with some cool- 
 ing lemonade. 
 
 In the afternoon, Charles slept, and to- 
 ward evening Mr. Reichenau called as 
 usual. 
 
 "You have saved my life," said Charles, 
 taking his hand. ''Will you consent to 
 make it happy?" 
 
 "Have matters gone so far?" asked the 
 merchant. 
 
 Charles blushed. " Emma has been 
 here," he said, " and I have reason to be- 
 lieve that she is not indifferent to me." 
 
 " Get well, first of all," said Mr. Reiche- 
 nau, " and then we will discuss this aflfair 
 further." 
 
 So the young man had no reason to an- 
 ticipate serious objections on the father's 
 side. He took the proffered advice, and 
 got well rapidly. Moses Useful fed him to 
 an enormous extent. And the quiet loca- 
 tion of the hotel favored a great deal of 
 sleep. But if a man does not get well be- 
 tween hearty eating and sound sleep, with 
 a doctor who gives him no medicines, and 
 friends that do not bother him with visits, 
 
Differences. 401 
 
 when, in the name of heaven, is he to get 
 well? 
 
 Oh, those happy days of convalescence ! 
 Every now and then sweet fruit or delica- 
 cies arrived from the Reichenau ladies. 
 Then Merrins stepped in and amused the 
 patient with his budget of news, and his 
 own selfish comments. In the latter part 
 of the afternoon fell Mr. Reichenau's yisit, 
 who would say laughingly, that he came 
 to assure himself of Charles safety, as he 
 had gone bail for him. 
 
 The wound closed up. A harrassing 
 cough, that had troubled the patient at 
 times, also disappeared. He gained in 
 strength, and in spirits. But a couple of 
 weeks had passed since Emma's visit, and 
 he already ventured down- stairs, leaning 
 upon the arm of Moses Useful, and en- 
 deavored to eat a dinner at the table of the 
 hotel. One sunny afternoon the Reichenau 
 carriage waited in front of the hotel. Many 
 stopped to take a look at it, and others 
 waited to see who it was sent for. Charles 
 came down, his sea-blue eyes bright with 
 the fire of returning health, a flush pale as 
 a rose leaf on his thin cheek, and his long 
 golden hair waving around a face that had 
 been spiritualized by the refining influ- 
 ences of sickness. He wore the gray uni- 
 form, with golden chevrons wandering up 
 the sleeves, and a narrow binding of scar- 
 let relieving the color. Moses Useful sup- 
 ported him on one side, while a cane gave 
 he requisite steadiness to the other. Thus, 
 26 
 
402 Differences. 
 
 he reached the carriage, and was seated on 
 the soft cushions, especially arranged for 
 him. It was quite a drive they took him, 
 far out into the blooming country, where 
 all nature seemed to throb with the life of 
 spring in its full glory. He had never be- 
 fore taken such exquisite delight in the 
 simple productions of the fields as now. 
 For he returned from the portals of death, 
 and felt as if he must welcome each flower 
 and rejoice with it, over the new lease of 
 life granted him. 
 
 The meadows were very green. Like 
 golden stars the dandelions waved on light 
 tubular stems. They did not stand singly, 
 but in masses. Light flocks of buttercups 
 hovered on the banks. The trees shook 
 themselves airily. The clouds seemed 
 playing »t bo-peep. The world was so 
 pleasant, that it seemed to Charles as if he 
 never could contentedly depart from it, 
 and it Mas impossible to understand his 
 feelings of a fcAV weeks ago. 
 
 The carriage stopped at Mr. Reichenau's 
 mansion, Charles was helped out, and into 
 the house. He had been asked to dinner. 
 The ladies awaited him in the parlor. It 
 was with deep blushes that the young peo- 
 ple met. But Emma regained her self- 
 possession almost immediately, and assum- 
 ed the duties and authority of a nurse. The 
 confederate officer was placed upon a sofa, 
 and bolstered up with all sorts of wonder- 
 ful little cushions, which aunt Margaret 
 had provided. They were the cushions of 
 
Differences. 403 
 
 a past age; small and hard, with parrots, 
 lions, tigers or dogs upon them in gorgeous 
 embroidery. Thus enthroned, the ladies 
 declared that he could not wait till dinner 
 time, but must partake of wine and a bis- 
 cuit, to stay him till then. The happy dog! 
 He suffered himself to be fed by the fairest 
 hands in the world, and affected a great 
 deal more exhaustion than he felt, in order 
 to protract the performance. How differ- 
 ent was Emma ! The quiet, matured 
 woman, animated by a tender and loving 
 heart, had taken the place of the proud and 
 frivolous girl. The rosebud, with sharp 
 thorns, had opened into a rose, whose 
 beauty overshadowed the prickly defenses! 
 
 Mr. Reichenau came home, and they had 
 dinner. The old gentleman was full of 
 kindness, but declared at once, that if the 
 ladies made such a pet of Charles, he would 
 believe himself insulted, and leave. He 
 also interdicted much further talk on the 
 young man's part. 
 
 ** You must be kept quiet," he said. ^'The 
 fault shall not rest with me if you have a 
 relapse." 
 
 Whereupon Charles declared himself 
 ready to suffer any number of relapses, 
 provided they were attended with such a 
 visit as that of Emma. And Emma blush- 
 ingly bade him not tell tales out of school, 
 or she would regret her part in the affair. 
 
 When the ladies had left the gentlemen 
 with their wine, Charles Goldman said : 
 
 li There is one question that, has been on 
 26* 
 
404 Differences. 
 
 ray tongue for weeks. Permit me to put it 
 now. Will 3'ou give me Emma's hand? 
 Will you give her to me, sir?" 
 
 *' If I did not intend so, I should not have 
 permitted her first visit to you. Yes, take 
 her." 
 
 " But — but — I am afraid youdonot know 
 all about me." 
 
 ** Indeed? What is it? Have you com- 
 mitted murder or robbery?" 
 
 " No sir, but I am — I am a Jew." 
 
 Mr. Reichenau laughed. **And I have 
 no religion whatever, except the belief in 
 God and humanity." 
 
 " It will not be an obstacle then—?" 
 
 " Not at all, if you are an honorable man. 
 And Emma, if she likes, may join you. 
 She has not been raised in any of the be- 
 liefs of our prevalent sects. The only faith 
 I should object to in a son-in-law is the 
 Mohammedan, and to that on account of 
 the wives." 
 
 " You are truly liberal in religious mat- 
 ters, I am happy to find," said Charlee, 
 with devout gratitude. 
 
 " As most of the educated Germans. The 
 prejudices which they still nourish, are not 
 religious but social, and such, as a matter 
 of course, are out of place in this country." 
 
 They returned to the parlor, where Mr. 
 Reichenau said at once : " The only condi- 
 tion I shall insist on is this : You must live 
 in New York one half of the .year." The 
 young p«.ir thus saw themselves officially 
 acknowledged as lovers. 
 
 When Charles returned to the hotel, he 
 found Madame la Generale and Antonia, 
 w^ho, after many difficulties, had at last 
 found him. 
 
D I r F E E E N C E s . 4X)o 
 
 CHAPTER XLITT. 
 
 There was great joj^ on both sides. Af- 
 ter divers embraces, in which Madame hi 
 Generalo gave Antonia little chance at 
 Charles, the old lady composed herself to 
 listen to the history of his sickness, as well 
 as to relate (he incidents of her own pil- 
 grimage in search of him. But a hostile 
 power intervened to prevent this con- 
 summation. Moses Useful stepped for- 
 M-ard, and opined that it was time for 
 the ladies to retire to their apartments ; 
 they had taken some on the same floor. 
 Madame glared at him in proud sur- 
 prise, and Charles ordered him to hold 
 his tongue, and mind his business. But 
 Moses said, he was minding his business. 
 The ladies might do as they pleased, "but 
 yon must goto bed immediatoly, and go to 
 sleep." 
 
 "I'll turn you out of doors, sir, if you 
 don't leave me alone." 
 
 But Moses went, and took the young 
 gentleman's coat off, notwithstanding his 
 resistance. Charles grew furious. 
 
 " I discharge you, sir. You need not at- 
 tend on me any longer." 
 
 Moses shook his head good-humoredly 
 at the ladies, and said : " I never listen to 
 what they say. I only do what the doctor 
 tollis me," and he deprived Charles of vest 
 and boots. Antonia saw that the matter 
 was growing serious, and said to Madame 
 la Generale : 
 
406 Differences. 
 
 " Come, aunt. Charles has had enough 
 excitement to-day. I suppose the nurse is 
 correct in ordering us off. We can talk at 
 breakfast tomorrow. Come now." 
 
 It was with a little difficulty however 
 that Madame could be prevailed on to leave 
 Charles. "Not for the matter itself," she 
 said, "but because it seemed as if they did 
 so, in obedience to the orders of that im- 
 pertinent servant." 
 
 She stood over the young man with tears 
 in her eyes, and murmured: "My brave 
 "boy, T bless you ! You are the true de- 
 scendant of ition pere le brave General. Je 
 vous salue, 'inon cher.^^ 
 
 Charles growled at Moses, when the la- 
 dies had departed, but to no purpose. The 
 faithful lellow put him to bed, lowered the 
 lights, and saw him soundly asleep before 
 he himself turned in. 
 
 But Madame, when she reached her own 
 rooms, at once summoned her corps of ser- 
 vants, consisting of the old negro and the 
 mulatto woman. 
 
 " I have seen just now," she began, shak- 
 ing her beer-barrel curls, and raising her 
 fore finger, "a dreadful examj^le of dis- 
 obedience, obstinacy, and rebellion in a 
 Northern servant agaiiist his master. I 
 2iave called you Juba, and you Mammy 
 Mary to warn you against keeping com- 
 pany with these people. You axe both 
 ^faithful servants." 
 
 " Yes, Missis, we am," said Juba, "Aint 
 "xve, Mammy ?" 
 
Differences. 407 
 
 " I'se like to see the woman that says 
 I'se not a good servant," she replied. 
 
 '* Well, if you learn the ways of these 
 Northern servants, you will be bad ser- 
 vants, and the Lord will punish you for it. 
 I have taken you with me because I trust- 
 ed in you. You have always been taken 
 good care of at Pineland. Have you not ?" 
 
 "Yes, Missis," replied both. "I wish 
 we was there now," added Juba. 
 
 " But these Northern servants have no- 
 body to take care of them. When they 
 grow old and can't work, they must starve. 
 You understand that, don't you, Juba?" 
 
 " Yes, Missis. I understands all you 
 say." 
 
 "Very well. Because people here will 
 talk to you, and tell you that you are free. 
 It is not so. We have bought you, and 
 paid for you, and if you run away, you 
 steal our property." 
 
 "I wouldn't run away for a thousand 
 dollars," protested Juba, while Mammy 
 said: "She w^as an honest nigger, and 
 hadn't done no wrong." 
 
 " Because, if you want to run away here, 
 I can't prevent you." 
 
 " You'd send the police and the hounds 
 after us," said Juba, smiling. 
 
 "No, I could not, in this unnatural 
 country," persisted Madame. 
 
 " Couldn't you put us in the calaboose 
 and have us whipped ?" asked Juba again, 
 with great curiosity. 
 
408 Differences. 
 
 "No, Juba. But God would punish you 
 for it." 
 
 "Well, Misses, I wouldn't run away for 
 a hundred dollars/' 
 
 " I trust you wouldn't. What would 
 people at home think of it? You may go 
 to bed. Mammy, undress me." 
 
 Next morning, the party assembled for a 
 late breakfast in Madame's bed-room. 
 
 " Charles, 1 ask you to make quite a sac- 
 rifice to my habits," said Madame, " but I 
 always breakfast in bed now." 
 
 In truth, Madame had had her hair dress- 
 ed elaborately, and was adorned with a cap 
 of a very coquettish pattern. 
 
 " And now, dear aunt," said the young 
 man, after he had demolished a chop and 
 quarter of a dozen of eggs, " tell me of all 
 the adventures you went through, for the 
 sake of your scapegrace of a nephew. How 
 did you pass the lines?" 
 
 " We had a great deal of difficulty. They 
 took us first for Northern people trying to 
 get away from the South, and abducting 
 Juba and Mammy." 
 
 " It was not difficult to rectify that mis- 
 take, I hope?" 
 
 " You are in error. It was most difficult. 
 For they would not believe us. In almost 
 every town I had a scuffle with the Provost 
 Marshals. The wretches ! I told them 
 my opinion without reserve or prevarica- 
 tion." 
 
 " What did you do then ?" 
 
 " I judged it best to go to the nearest 
 
D I F F E K K X C E S . 409 
 
 Leadqiiarters. There I explained every 
 tiling to the General Commanding— a gen- 
 tleman of the first water — a preiix cheva- 
 lier—''^ and the old hidy kissed her hand 
 "vvith a great affectation of youthfulness. 
 
 " Truly he was very attentive to us," 
 said Antonia, laughing. 
 
 " But you did not show much apprecia- 
 tion of his politeness," replied Madame, 
 shaking her curls. *' You almost repulsed 
 his kindness." 
 
 *' May I light a cigar?" asked Charles. 
 
 " If you will sit by the open window," 
 replied Madame. *'This General furnish- 
 ed us passes, and we came without further 
 difficulty to the enemy's lines. Who do 
 you think we met there ? A friend of ours; 
 a Colonel in command of a brigade ; serv- 
 ing in Gen. Burnside's corps. Who do 
 you think?" 
 
 ''t have not the remotest idea, aunt," 
 said Charles, puffing away. 
 
 '* Mr. Welland. I was never more glad 
 in my life. I spent such a pleasant day 
 with him !" 
 
 *' What!" cried Charles. "I am glad to 
 hear it." 
 
 "Well, he took me all around their 
 camp, and introduced me to the Generals, 
 and procured me passes — it is a thousand 
 pities that Antonia was unable to join us." 
 
 '* What was the matter," asked Charles. 
 
 " She had a violent headache, and kept 
 her bed all day. The place where we were 
 lodging, was a damp house, and she must 
 
410 Differences. 
 
 have caught cold. Mr. Welland was very 
 sorry. He talked of her twice or thrice. 
 What a time for a young lady to be sick, 
 
 when a gentleman like Mr. I should 
 
 say Colonel Welland is desirous of paying 
 his respects to her." 
 
 "I could not help it, aunt," said Auto- 
 nia, blushing.. "Could I?" 
 
 " Of course not. Still it was quite an- 
 noying, because you are generally well. — 
 After that I had no difficulties, except in 
 finding you. I spent a great deal of time 
 in Washington, and went from one office 
 to another, and was on swords' points with 
 one half of those boors of officials, who in- 
 stead of telling me where to find you, made 
 me wait — wait in their anti-chambres, and 
 gave me ambiguous answers," 
 
 " How did you find out at last ?" 
 
 '* By calling upon the ambassador of my 
 country. The ambassador of France did 
 not make me wait, or return an ambigu- 
 ous answer. He received me like a man 
 who has moved in the Aa?t^cmo?ide of Paris, 
 and promised information as soon as pos- 
 sible. Two days after, he did me the honor 
 to call upon me, and communicated that 
 yon were in the city of New York, at the 
 same time presenting me with a letter of 
 introduction to the Consul in that city." 
 
 " That was kind," said Charles. 
 
 " It was the behavior of a gentleman of 
 blood and. breeding to an old lady in need 
 of assistance," cried Madame, with enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
DiFFERENOES. 411 
 
 ** And you went to New York at once?" 
 
 "We did, after declining the invitation 
 of Monsieur V Ambassadeur to call on Afa- 
 dame son epouse. And here, we found you 
 at once, by appl3ang to the Provost Mar- 
 shal." 
 
 ** And now you have found me, what are 
 you going to do with me?" 
 
 " First of all, hear the story of j-oiir ad- 
 ventures," said Antonia. 
 
 " Now ? Right away? What a bore !" 
 
 *' We are all ready. Begin, Monsieur mon 
 frere.^'' 
 
 ** I am so tired. Isn't it enough *to have 
 lived through things, must one tell of 
 them in the bargain ?" yawned Charles. 
 " Oh, ye women !" 
 
 " That's grand ! Abusing us after we 
 have hunted for him half the world over ! 
 But it shall not avail you, sir. Begin !" 
 
 " I see that I am to be sacrificed. Where 
 shall I begin?" 
 
 *' From the very first," said Antonia. 
 " Don't be so lazy, buddj^." 
 
 ** Buddy" had been Antonia's first en- 
 deavor to say "brother," when Charles 
 was a boy of five, and she a toddling baby. 
 It stuck to him for long years, and even 
 now the appellation was used in moments 
 of tenderness. He puffed at his cigar, and 
 began : 
 
 '* It was on a raid, the purpose of which 
 was to surprise and destro}^ a U. S. depot. 
 We had finished our work, and were re- 
 turning. My men wanting a number of 
 
412 Differences. 
 
 things. Ave stopped at several farm-h-ouses 
 to procure them. Of course, we didn't pay 
 in federal scrip. Consequently the farm- 
 ers offered an occasional resistance. In 
 one of these squabbles 1 received my 
 wound and liad to be left. When it was 
 almost well, I reported to a federal officer 
 who had taken my parole, and was sent 
 here, until I should have recovered com- 
 pletely." 
 
 "And then?" asked Madame. 
 
 " Then I will have the opportunity of in- 
 specting the inside of a federal prison. To 
 continue : in the meanwhile mj^ journey, 
 and a number of other things, had made 
 me sick. My wound re-opened and bled 
 profusely. I fell into a fever and began to 
 sink. I believe I was dying. In fact, I 
 had made up mj'' mind that I was." 
 
 "Horrible. Was this long ago?" cried 
 Madame. 
 
 "About two weeks. Xow I had one 
 friend in this city." 
 
 "Only one? when j-ou lived here so 
 long," asked Antonia. 
 
 " One was sufficient. His name is Mr. 
 Keichenau." 
 
 " What ?" said the young lady, " the 
 gentleman — " 
 
 "Exactly. The father of Miss Emma 
 Reichenau. He saw that I was listless, 
 despondent, without nervous energy, in 
 short, he saw that I would die unless a 
 pow^erful incentive to live were furnished 
 me. So he sent his daughter to see me." 
 
Differences. 413 
 
 " Sent his daughter to see i/ou~a young 
 man, unmarried," cried Madame la Gene- 
 rale; ** did he send her alone?" 
 •*Ko. Her aunt came with her." 
 "What manners! What a country!" 
 cried Madame. " Antonia, my child, I am 
 sorry that you have heard of this indeli- 
 cacy." 
 
 "Madame, my aunt," cried Charles, 
 blushing, "recollect that you are speaking 
 of my future wife." 
 
 " Is the boy mad ? " cried Madame, rais- 
 ing herself in bed. 
 " Your future wife ? " 
 " My future wife," replied Charles, firmly 
 " When she visited me, her visit saved my 
 life, for it gave me something to live for. I 
 grew better from that moment, and last 
 night our engagement received her father's 
 sanction." 
 
 "I am completely dumb-founded. 
 Charles, can this be so? Of course Miss— 
 AVhat's-her-name is of your religion," said 
 the old lady, disarranging her cap and curls 
 in her agitation. 
 
 "She is not yet," said Charles, hesitat- 
 ingly," but will become so before long." 
 
 "Will become so before long? Grand 
 Bien, w^hat do you say to this, Antonia ?" 
 
 They turned to her. Antonia had faint- 
 ed. In a moment all was confusion and 
 noise. Charles tugged at the bell handles, 
 and called out into the hall. Madame, in 
 a long ghostly night gown, leaped from the 
 bed and dashed cold milk, which she took 
 
414 Differences. 
 
 for water, into her niece's face. The cham- 
 bermaids streamed in. One opened the 
 windows. Another undressed the young 
 lady. A third crowded Charles out. 
 Mammy, being informed, came howling 
 from the servant's hall, and smothered her 
 darling with kisses. Finally, amid all this 
 hubbub, Antonia opened her eyes, and 
 declared that the heat of the room had 
 overcome her. She was carefully removed 
 to her bed by the chambermaids, two of 
 which retired on the instant to their own 
 room and had a private fit of hysterics. 
 Mammy remained with Antonia, smooth- 
 ing her hair, and talking to her in those 
 murmuring words of endearments that 
 children, and persons in mental distress 
 appreciate so well. 
 
 When Charles stated that Emma Reiche- 
 nau was his betrothed, Antonia became 
 suddenly aware that, misled b\" her broth- 
 er's representations, she had doneWelland 
 grievious wrong. She had not only broken 
 off their intercourse, but absolutely refused 
 to see him when chance had thrown them 
 together. This recollection, and the bitter 
 thought that she had lost him overpowered 
 her. She grew dizzy, and became uncon- 
 scious. 
 
 Now she lay as in a trance, with only 
 this feeling uppermost, that she must con- 
 ceal from everybody the .wounds of her 
 heart. This idea nursed her to action. No 
 one should perceive in her demeanor that 
 it had been any thing but an ordinary 
 
Differences. 415 
 
 fainting fit. She would bear her burden, 
 as such burdens must be borne, alone. 
 
 Charles, in the meanwhile, penned a note 
 to Emma, acquainting her with the arrival 
 of his sister and aunt, who, he remarked, 
 w^ere too fatigued to see anybody to-day, 
 but would be happy to see the ladies and 
 Mr. Reichenau on the morrow. What 
 other expressions, suitable to letters pass- 
 ing between people that expect to be mar- 
 ried, this epistle contained, it is not neces- 
 sary to mention here. But it was a four 
 page affair, and closely written at that. 
 And the w^riter was of the firm opinion, 
 that every sentence contained matter of 
 vital importance. The recipient seemed to 
 be of the like opinion, for she read the letter 
 over twice, and then put it away as care- 
 fully as if it were the title deed of some 
 vast estate. The drawer was locked, and 
 every precaution taken against robbery. 
 As if housebreakers made it their especial 
 business to carry off a young lady's love- 
 letters, in preference to the other valuables 
 in the drawers, such as golden drops and 
 silver spoons, bracelets and ear-rings, dia- 
 monds and pearls. 
 
 That day Charles, to the surprise of the 
 other guests, entered the dining-room with 
 two ladies. Madame la Generale, in heavy 
 gray silk with real laces of immense value, 
 and rich jewels in their old fashioned set- 
 ting, had mounted a wonderful cap, which 
 set off her aristocratic face to great advan- 
 tage. But Antonia attracted all eyes. In 
 
416 Differences. 
 
 blue tarletan with white flowers in her 
 hair and bosom, she was surpassingly 
 lovely. Her golden curls, tied simply at 
 the back of the head with a blue ribbon, 
 floated down upon her shoulders in rich 
 profusion. Her face was pale, but the sea- 
 blue eyes bright with nervous excitement, 
 shone wondrously. Her neck and arms 
 were clasped b^^ ornaments of small Vene- 
 tian shells, white and pearly, and altogeth- 
 er, her appearance was a little strange, pe- 
 culiar, reminding one of a water nymph or 
 mermaid. Charles felt quite proud, when 
 he noticed the universal stir occasioned by 
 the aristocratic bearing of Madame la Gen- 
 erale, and still more b}' the beauty of An- 
 tonia. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Next morning at eleven, aunt Mag and 
 Emma made their appearance. Madame 
 la Generale had in the meanwhile reflected, 
 and concluded to accept with grace what 
 she could not prevent. The only condition 
 of acceptance reserved in her own mind, 
 was that Emma should have a fine figure 
 and good manners. " The two things most 
 requisite in a ladj'' that moves in society," 
 said Madame to herself. 
 
 The way in which the old lady received 
 her visitors was admirable. Dressed in 
 very quiet taste, she exhibited an elegance 
 of manner and routine of social forms that 
 
Differences. 417 
 
 placed the callers at once at their ease 
 while it did not involve the loss of a par- 
 ticle of her own dignity. Antonia had 
 been raised under her tuition and mani- 
 fested the same qualities, with this differ- 
 ence: an air of sweet sincerity and youth- 
 ful buoyancy pervaded all she said or did. 
 On the other side, aunt Margaret's straight 
 common sense and exceeding kindness of 
 heart, supported by a proper amount of 
 self-dependence supplied the place of high 
 breeding, and contrasted with Madame's 
 manner, not unfavorably. Emma surpris- 
 ed both the Tennessee ladies by the dignity 
 and brilliancy of her beaut3% Her man- 
 ners were rather outre, but like her loud- 
 colored garments seemed to become the 
 style of her face, and were in keeping with 
 her whole appearance. Altogether, as Ma- 
 dame said afterward: "She resembled 
 more a half-civilized Russian princess than 
 & parvenu, and if she was odd, she was not 
 the less distingue.'^ 
 
 Madame talked a great deal, and found 
 an attractive listener in aunt Mag, who on 
 this account was taken into favor at once. 
 She resuscitated Napoleon and all his mar- 
 shals, and told of evening parties to the 
 waters of St. Cloud, and of reviews in the 
 Champ de Mars, until the good old lady's 
 mind w^as completely dazzled. Antonia 
 and Emma retired to a window, and went 
 at once into confidences: Emma with a 
 rush, Antonia with j*eluctance. But they 
 were not suffered to remain alone. Charles 
 27 
 
418 Differences. 
 
 insisted upon being admitted to the circle. 
 So they put cushions into a rocking chair, 
 and made him sit down and promise to 
 keep quiet. 
 
 "I will,'- said he, "if you'll let me 
 smoke. Only one cigar." 
 
 But they would not permit it. 
 
 "Very well," he said, "I must be con- 
 tent, since yoa saved my life for the second 
 time just now." 
 
 " You w^ere not in any danger, as far as I 
 know," replied Emma. 
 
 " Hidden danger, which you don't know 
 of yet. Danger of being talked to death by 
 my aunt. She has mounted the Napoleon 
 horse." 
 
 "For shame," said Antonia. "Avint is 
 very interesting when she talks to stran- 
 gers. I have always heard them confess 
 as much." 
 
 " I, for my part, find it so," said Emma. 
 " How grand she is in manners !" 
 
 " By the time you have heard her anec- 
 dotes for the fiftieth time, you wont find it 
 so," replied Charles. "And now I will 
 give you a caution: Never speak in her 
 presence of Napoleon or his times. Dis- 
 courage every approach to the sulyect, un- 
 less you wish a conversation kejjt up, 
 without taking the trouble yourself." 
 
 Lunch was served, and later in the after- 
 noon the Reichenau carriage came. "Who 
 is to go?" was the general question, for 
 they had resolved on a ride in Central 
 Park. 
 
Differences. 419 
 
 " Charles, as a matter of course," said 
 Emma, ** and as he takes up two seats, I 
 would beg Madame to do us the honor to 
 make use of the remaining seat with aunt 
 Margaret; this invalid needs better care 
 than we young ladies should be able to 
 give him." 
 
 " I shall be but too happy," replied Ma- 
 dame, with a courtesy, " to have an oppor- 
 tunity to see the splendors of this city, af- 
 ter having had occasion to admire the 
 beauty of its belles." 
 
 " I accept the compliment," replied 
 Emma, smiling, "as it comes from one 
 who has been a renowned belle herself in 
 the fairest circles of the heaumonde.^^ 
 
 " Oh, you flatterer," whispered Charles. 
 " The bell is worn out, but the clapper re- 
 mains in excellent condition." 
 
 This arrangement was evidently the 
 best, though sub rosa the young man de- 
 murred against it. He thought it was a 
 shame to send him out with an escort of 
 old women. And, furthermore, he declar- 
 ed loudly, that Emma and Antonia staid at 
 home to plot against his peace and future 
 welfare. That Antonia intended to inform 
 Emma in what manner he might be mana- 
 ged, and the whole was a conspiracy un- 
 worthy of human nature. 
 
 At last the carriage started, and the two 
 girls were alone. Of course they retired at 
 once to a cozy nook, and Emma, placing 
 her arm around Antonia's neck, said: 
 
 *' What a pretty little sister I shall have ! 
 27* 
 
420 Differences. 
 
 Do you know, dear, that my mother died 
 when T was a baby, and I never had either 
 brother or sister ? That is what makes me 
 so forward and self-reliant. You must tell 
 me whenever I am too much so, for I will 
 be tutored by you without taking offense, 
 and I want to make Charles love me al- 
 ways as he does now." 
 
 " He suspected that we would plot 
 against his supremacy," said Antonia. 
 " Emma, he is the very best boy in the 
 world." 
 
 " To me, of course. But for you there is 
 a better, not so?" 
 
 Antonia blushed a little, and said with 
 embarrassment : " I know of none." 
 
 " Oh, you little hypocrite! To be so re- 
 served to your sister that is to be." 
 
 " But, Emma, I can not confess where 
 there is nothing to confess." 
 
 " Nothing to confess ? I see that you do 
 not honor me with your confidence." 
 
 " I certainly do. In accepting you as my 
 brother's betrothed, I give you all the 
 claims, which a sister could make upon 
 me." 
 
 " The first claim that a sister would make 
 is affection." 
 
 "And have I not given you mine?" ask- 
 ed Antonia, embracing her. 
 
 "Yes, my sweet little one," replied 
 Emma, drawing the other's head down 
 upon her bosom, and playing with her 
 curls. *' Yes. But the next claim is that 
 of confidence. How is it in that regard?" 
 
Differences. 421 
 
 "I am willing to confide in you; but 
 there are things one does not confide, even 
 to a sister." 
 
 •' Ah ! now we have it," said Emma, tri- 
 umphantly. " And some of those things 
 are loves and engagements. But if the sis- 
 ter has heard of them before? What then, 
 little reserve? Tell me !" 
 
 " I do not knoAv what you refer to," re- 
 plied Antonia. 
 
 '* You are carrying the matter too far. 
 Are you not engaged to be married?" 
 
 " I am not, Emma. Charles has probably 
 told you that I was. But no engagement 
 exists between Col. Tourtelotte and my- 
 self." 
 
 " Col. Tourtelotte? Who is that?" 
 
 *' The Colonel of Charles' regiment. A 
 neighbor of ours." 
 
 " And he has pretensions to your hand? 
 Do you love him ? " 
 
 " No. But he is a brave gallant gentle- 
 man, and if he does his duty to his country, 
 I have said, that he might hope for my 
 hand. I thought Charles had told you." 
 
 *' Not a word. This is very queer. An- 
 tonia, I assure you this is the first I heard 
 of Col. Tourtelotte. May I speak to you 
 without reserve? Quite open?" asked 
 Emma. 
 
 "Please do so," replied Antonia, uneasily. 
 She would gladly have escaped if she could 
 have done so. 
 
 " Well then, I thought you were engaged 
 to Col. Welland. lu one word, he made a 
 
422 Differences. 
 
 confidant of me and told mft so. Did he 
 speak the truth, or did he deceive me?*' 
 Emma's cheeks flushed painfully as she 
 pushed this inquiry. She was a-ware that 
 other feelings beside sympathy for An- 
 tonia were involved, in the answer. Not 
 love, but the discovery that her idol was 
 brass ; the finding out that her hero wor- 
 ship had deified the unworthy. 
 
 But Antonia raised her eyes to the 
 speaker. "Mr. Welland," she said, "does 
 not deserve this suspicion. He never states 
 an untruth. He is an honorable gentle- 
 man." 
 " Then you are engaged to him, after all." 
 " I am not. I can't explain it. I have 
 been, but am not." 
 
 " Tell me the whole, Antonia. Tell me, 
 dear!" 
 
 "I will teiryou as much as I can. We 
 were engaged secretly, but 1 believed things 
 that were urged against him, and broke 
 off our intercourse. At present we are 
 strangers, and I am promised to Col. Tour- 
 telotte, when the war is over. And now 
 no more on this subject, Emma. No more 
 ' an thou lov'st me.' " 
 
 With the approach of dinner time the 
 carriage appeared, bearing Mr. Reichenau, 
 who surprised the young ladies in their ex- 
 change of confidence, and bade them come 
 with him. Madame la Generale and aunt 
 Margaret were in Fifth Avenue, waiting 
 for them. Antonia retired to dress, and 
 presently they were all three seated in the 
 
Differences. 423 
 
 vehicle, and proceediDg to the Reichenau 
 mansion. 
 
 The dinner was exquisite. Mr. Reiche- 
 nau did all he could to pay court to Ma- 
 dame la Generale, and Charles allowed 
 himself to be nursed and petted by Emma. 
 Aunt Margaret looked pleased ; Antonia 
 was absent-minded. She could not but feel 
 how difficult and complicated her present 
 situation was. She desired to do justice to 
 Tourtelotte, above all to keep her given 
 word. But on the other hand she had 
 treated Welland unjustly, and owed him 
 reparation. And her heart plead loudly 
 for the latter. Who would advise her ? To 
 whom could she turn ? There was nobodj". 
 Not even Mr. Sharp. And yet, if she made 
 a confidant of anybody, it must be of him. 
 These reflections were with her continu- 
 ally, and thanks to the pre-occupation of 
 the others, it was not observed how quiet 
 and buried in thought she was. 
 
 " Do you know, Madame, that I have im- 
 posed a condition on Charles," said Mr. 
 Reichenau. *' He is to live one-half the 
 year in New York. I hope this will be an 
 occasion for j^ou to repeat your visit often. 
 It is difficult for me to comprehend how 
 you can muster patience to live in the 
 country." 
 
 " I am getting old, my dear sir, and age 
 loves quiet." 
 
 "Not such age as yours. Years do not 
 make old. One person is old at forty, and 
 another young at sixty." 
 
424 Differences. 
 
 " Well, I will confess that as yet I do not 
 feel too old to visit Xow York. 33ut you 
 have not much society here." 
 
 " Too much, Madame, too much. But 
 the advantages^ of such a croM'd are that 
 you can always find enough among them 
 to suit your taste. Every one picks out his 
 now clique. Do you not feel desirous of 
 re-visiting France ?' ' 
 
 " Candidly, no. I am afraid of the dis- 
 appointments." 
 
 " Even under the regime ©f Leuis Napo- 
 leon?" 
 
 " Even under the regime of the Emperor, 
 I should be disappointed. Things may bo 
 greater and brighter, but my ej-es are no 
 more the ej-es of eighteen and twenty-four. 
 I have conserved the j^ast in my memory, 
 and I am never disappointed, when I re- 
 cur to that," 
 
 ** I purposed to take mj daughter lo 
 Paris and have her presented at court, 
 when this war is over. As matters are 
 now I will still do so, if Charles consents to 
 accompany us." 
 
 *' I M'ill," cried Charles from the other 
 side of the room, "on condition that you 
 present us, aunt. You are no stranger in the 
 Tuileries, and the emperor must remember 
 you." 
 
 " No doubt he would recollect me. He 
 was a child, and 1 a young lady in a short 
 waist and Grecian coitfure, when he saw me 
 last." 
 
 •'I fancv that it would make no difTer- 
 
D I F F E R li N C E S . 425 
 
 eiicG. Princes rarely forget any but those 
 Avhom they desire to forget," said Mr. 
 Reichennu. 
 
 Emma and Charles were having a con- 
 versation of their own. 
 
 " A re you happy now, you craving boy," 
 said Emma to the young man who had 
 possessed himself of her hand. 
 
 *' Quite haj^py. Andean you make up 
 your mind to be content with one who 
 hasn't carried you off by force, and is a pi- 
 rate or a banditti chief, at least ? Or have 
 your ideas moderated ?" 
 
 "It is unpardonable in you to repeat 
 this. I shall get angry." 
 
 "Wait then, until I have gone to prison. 
 Don't now." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Have you mur- 
 dered any one ?" 
 
 " Why, my parole expires with return- 
 ing health. As soon as I am completely 
 well, I must report to the Provost Marshal, 
 and will, in all probability, be sent to a 
 military prison." 
 
 " It can not be, Charles. You must put 
 off your uniform, and take the oath of alle- 
 giance. That will make them leave you 
 free." 
 
 " You are joking, dear. Xot for the 
 world !" replied Charles. 
 
 "Not for me? You will not refuse my 
 first request." 
 
 " I must. Think of my honor. You are 
 requesting an impossibility." 
 
 " What exaggeration to call this an im- 
 
426 Differences. 
 
 possibility ! I thought you would do any 
 
 thing for me. Charles, I begin to doubt 
 
 the strength of your love." 
 " Dispose of my heart and life. They are 
 
 yours. My honor is mine, and I must 
 
 keep it bright." 
 "What does your sister sa^', and j^our 
 
 aunt. They object, I feel certain. Do they 
 
 not ?" 
 '• They have not said a syllable to keep 
 
 me, and will not, I'm sure." 
 
 " But they may exchange you, and then 
 
 you'll have to fight again ! Imagine mj* 
 feelings in the meantime !" 
 
 " Emma, your feelings can not influence 
 me in this matter." 
 
 The young lady looked with admiration 
 at the man, in whom she wan beginning to 
 perceive the master. She felt proud of his 
 superiority. 
 
 Antonia and aunt Margaret were talking 
 in a quiet manner, with great pauses of 
 complete silence. When requested for some 
 music, the young ladj^ began a classic 
 piece, but soon rambled off into fantasies 
 of her own, which no one paid any atten- 
 tion to but aunt Margaret, who thought it 
 very fine. Thus the evening wore, and 
 finally the Goldman party returned in Mr. 
 
 Reichenau's carriage to the C . Mammy 
 
 was in waiting and undressed Madame, 
 while Antonia remained by to talk to her, 
 or rather to listen. It was the old lady's 
 habit to criticize the people she had spent 
 
Differences. 427 
 
 thfi evening with, while preparing for bed. 
 Nor did she neglect to do so now. 
 
 " Has Charles retired?" she asked, anx- 
 iously. When assured that he had, and 
 that Moses Useful was putting him to bed, 
 she added in a whisper: *' For we must be 
 cautious in talking of those people before 
 him. He only half belongs to our family 
 now. It seemed to me as if their manners 
 had infected him a little. How is it, An- 
 tonia ?" 
 
 "Thej^ have passable manners, aunt. 
 Did you not think so?" 
 
 " No, I did not. They are very good 
 people, extremely good. Haut bourgoisie, 
 but burgoisie to the core. The middle-aged 
 lady is the best bred, undoubtedly. The 
 father is kind, and adroit in conversation, 
 but there is a certain something, a /e nesais 
 quoi, which smells of the shop about him." 
 
 "But the young lady is beautiful," said 
 Antonia. 
 
 ** Very beautiful. But her beauty is too 
 loud. And she increases the effect by 
 those bright colors and forward manners." 
 
 " Which become her, nevertheless. Were 
 you well entertained this afternoon ? You 
 went to Central Park, I believe." 
 
 " Yes, if that can be called a park, which 
 has no trees. Charles amused us greatly 
 by his comments on the passers by, and 
 Avhen that subject was exhausted, he began 
 to make love in a high-tlown strain to aunt 
 Margaret, * as the representative of her 
 niece.' " 
 
428 Differences. 
 
 "Willj-ou go there to-morrow? I be- 
 lieve they expect us." 
 
 *' To-morrow we must go and purchase 
 dresses for yon, and hats for us both, and 
 other trifles. We are terribly out of fash- 
 ion, having been excluded from communi- 
 cation with the civilized world for so long 
 a time. So there is labor for us." 
 
 *' Good night, aunt. We breakfast hero 
 to-morrow." 
 
 *' Good night, child. Take care of your 
 light. Mammy will assist you." 
 
 Mammy took off Antonia's clothes and 
 put her to bed. Then she smoothed her 
 hair, and murmured words of tenderness 
 to her darling. And the weary spirit suc- 
 cumbed to the caresses of her old attend- 
 ant, and after a relieving burst of tears, 
 Antouia sank to sleep, and forgot both 
 Tourtelotto and Welland in the happy land 
 of dreams. Softly the mulatto Avoman ex- 
 tinguished the light, and left the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 About a month after the circumstances 
 related in the preceding chapters, Colonel 
 Welland received two letters. The one, 
 with the delicate lines of a female hand 
 upon the face of the envelope and the mon- 
 ogram A. G. upon the back, scarce deserv- 
 ed the name of letter; it was merely a 
 note. The other, with no end of straight 
 
BiFFEIlENCKS. 429 
 
 official characters in the direction, was 
 more than a letter; it Avas a packet. Of 
 course, the note took precedence, and with 
 a sense of happy surprise, Welland per- 
 ceived that it came from Antonia. It was 
 written closely, on very thin paper, and 
 ran thus : 
 
 Dear Sir:— I owe you many apologies, 
 and sincerely beg your pardon for an act 
 of misapprehension on my part. Unfortu- 
 nately, reparation is out of my power. 
 When my brother Charles returned from 
 New York to Pineland, it was with the 
 impression that you were the accepted sui- 
 tor of Emma Reichenau. This impression 
 he communicated to me with such assur- 
 ances of its correctness, that I could doubt 
 no longer. Hence the line of conduct I 
 have pursued, for which I sincerely beg 
 your pardon. What influence the fact may 
 have had upon me that you are in arms 
 against my country, I will not attempt to 
 calculate ; but I did not expect to see vou 
 ever leagued with the oppressors of a ""na- 
 tionality battling for its rights. 
 
 When I imagined myself free to dispose 
 of my future, in consequence of your own 
 act, I hesitated not to devote that future in 
 some measure to my country. I animated 
 a gallant gentleman, who has long been 
 attached to me, to fight bravely for our 
 Southern rights, by the promise of mv 
 hand, in the event of the victorious con- 
 clusion of this war. He went forth, and 
 has fought and sutfered as our Southern 
 patriots light and suffer; and while he is 
 in the field, I shall hold the poor guerdon I 
 promised him as faithfully as I can, and 
 whether we are conquerors or conquered at 
 the end of the war, my hand is at his dis- 
 posal. 
 
 Still, when we came to this city in search 
 of Charles, for whom, as you know, we 
 
430 Differences. 
 
 came North, and found him betrothed to 
 Emma Reichenau, I could not help feeling 
 bitter regrets in addition to the pain -with 
 ■which 1 had regarded my loss. It is sad to 
 meet misfortune and sorrow, but terrible 
 to feel that you yourself are the cause of it, 
 and that it ^an not be repaired. In consid- 
 eration of what I have suffered, be gener- 
 ous and do not increase my troubles, by 
 attempts on your part to see me, or cause 
 a change in "mj'' intentions. For I must 
 keep my word to Col. Tourtelotte, and 
 shall surely do so. That my brother is 
 happy, and that you are without blame in 
 this affair, are my only consolations. Your 
 truth and nobilitV of character arc com- 
 forts to me, even now. 
 
 May you be happy. And let me hope, 
 that you will so far "^be able to obliterate 
 from memory what has passed between us, 
 that when we meet, we need not meet as 
 strangers, but as friends. I have ceased to 
 wish for happiness. I pray for peace. 
 
 If this letter is unmaidenly, I can not 
 help it. There are occasions and senti- 
 ments that burst through the fetters of 
 custom, and maintain their rights against 
 all laws of demeanor. Good-bye, dear 
 Louis, whom I call so once again, and no 
 more. A. G. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the feelings of 
 the Colonel when he had finished this let- 
 ter. He could not reflect upon the con- 
 tents, but felt like one stunned. He read 
 it two and three times, and still seemed not 
 to comprehend its full intent. A vague 
 feeling of pain, heavy and dull, was upon 
 him. Mechanically he dropped the sheet 
 of thin paper, and put out his hand for the 
 heavy packet that still lay there unopened. 
 On cutting the envelope, he found a note 
 
Differences. 431 
 
 from the B Consul in New York of 
 
 the following import : 
 
 Coloni:l: — The inclosed papers, contain- 
 ing the conclusion of the Bureau of Justice 
 
 of his Majesty, the King of B , upon 
 
 reviewing the case of his Majesty's Gov- 
 ernment, versus Louis Welland, born in 
 
 G , in the Palatinate, by the light of 
 
 additional testimony, deposed under oath 
 
 by Frederick Hassel, born in L . in 
 
 the Palatinate, are herewith furnished' to 
 you for information and guidance, with 
 the remark that the sum alluded to has 
 been placed at the disposal of the under- 
 signed, and can be received by you, at his 
 office in New York, against receipts pr.op- 
 erly signed and attested, and upon estab- 
 lishing your identity to his satisfaction. 
 Sebastian Pfister, Consul. 
 
 Colonel Louis Welland, 
 
 — th N. Y. Vols. 
 
 There were a great many papers. In 
 fact, quite a heap. Welland could make 
 neither head or tail of them at first. But 
 by an extraordinary effort of will, he con- 
 centrated his attention upon the subject, 
 and went through them all in regular or- 
 der. There were accounts of the former 
 trial against him, and the confiscation of 
 his possessions. Again, there were ac- 
 counts of the points re-considered upon re- 
 ceiving the testimony of Hassel. And fi- 
 nally came a synopsis of that testimony 
 from which it appeared that Hassel and 
 two others had removed the Government 
 money, which Welland took from a party 
 of soldiers in the revolution of 1848 by or- 
 der of his General, and was afterward forc- 
 ed to conceal in a wood : that Hassel and 
 
432 Differences. 
 
 the others had carried off as much as they 
 could carry of this sum, which was mostly 
 in heavy silver coin, and left the rest in a 
 safe place in the same wood ; furthermore, 
 that one of them, venturing to return, had 
 been imprisoned and put to hard labor for 
 firing a farm-house in the rev^olutionary 
 times, and that the other two were thereby 
 deterred from making the attempt to secure 
 the whole of the money. In conclusion the 
 exact place of concealment was specified, 
 and accurately described, and an humble 
 petition urged that if the money was found, 
 so much of Louis Wellaud's heritage as 
 bad been taken to indemnify Government 
 for this loss, might be restored. 
 
 Upon search being made, the money was 
 found untouched, except the moiety car- 
 ried off by Hassel and his companions. 
 The case was accordingly reviewed, and 
 the conclusion arrived at by the Minister 
 of Justice was summed up thus, in brief: 
 
 "As the said Louis Welland, born in 
 
 G , in the Palatinate, has, bjM he grace 
 
 of his Majesty, the King, been pardoned of 
 the misdemeanors committed by him 
 against the State, on condition that the 
 losses occasioned to the War Department 
 through his direct agency, be re-paid by 
 the proceeds of the sale of all properties 
 appertaining to him, and the surplus be 
 transmitted to the said Louis Welland, 
 and as the original sum missed has, in 
 great part, been found and restored to the 
 treasury of that Department, it is our opin- 
 
Differences. 433 
 
 ion that so much of the proceeds of his 
 property, as in addition to the restored 
 sum exceed the deficiency occasioned, shall 
 be paid over to him by the Department, in 
 whose treasury it is at present, after a due 
 deduction of just interest, expenses in- 
 curred," &c. &c. 
 
 The king had approved this opinion, and 
 ordered it to be acted upon. The long and 
 the short of the matter was this : Welland 
 had his own again, and was possessor of a 
 considerable fortune. It was only neces- 
 sary for him to go to New York, indentify 
 himself, sign receipts, and take up his 
 money. 
 
 When he had finished his perusal of the 
 documents, and the whole case was clear to 
 him, he again picked up his little note from 
 Antonia, and read it over. It filled him 
 with bitterness. " Unmerited suffering 
 seems to be my lot," he said. " I was con- 
 tent to live without her, and had regained 
 my peace after seeing Tourtelotte. Now, 
 to my knowledge, that she is another's, 
 must be added the consciousness that she 
 loves me still !" lie folded the note tender- 
 ly, and laid it in the little volume which 
 Antonia had given him. 
 
 "And now, as I am again a rich man, I 
 must secure my wealth, and take care of 
 it," he added, and seating himself at the 
 mess-table, he indited an application for 
 leave of absence. 
 
 It was granted to him, and he departed 
 for New York. In a day or two his busi- 
 28 
 
434 Differences. 
 
 ness with the Consul was transacted, and 
 a great part of his wealth invested in Gov- 
 ernment stocks. These were safely depos- 
 ited in various banks, and then Welland 
 donned his gala uniform to wait upon 
 Miss Reichenau. 
 
 As he entered the parlor, he saw Emma 
 in a rocking-chair with Charles at her side, 
 but saw no one else. 
 
 " My heartiest congratulations," he said, 
 joyfully. "And how is the wound getting 
 on?" 
 
 "Quite well," replied Charles, pressing 
 his hand. " I fear I shall have to report for 
 prison in another week." 
 
 "Isn't it dreadful, Colonel Welland," 
 said Emma, exchanging hearty greetings 
 with him, " he wants to leave us and go to 
 prison ? I am sure it is but a romantic 
 crotchet." 
 
 " I can not agree with you, notwithstand- 
 ing all the laws of politeness," said Wel- 
 land. " The rules of honor are a soldier's 
 conscience." 
 
 " Oh, of course, you will tell me the same 
 thing Charles does, being both in the 
 army," said Emma. " And ladies are not 
 supposed to have any judgment in military 
 affairs." 
 
 " We are both in the army, with a slight 
 difference," said Welland, smiling. " I 
 suppose you can communicate with home, 
 Mr. Goldman, since our troops are in your 
 State?" 
 
 "Yes. We have had letters from Pine- 
 
Differences. 435 
 
 land last week. Both father and mother 
 are well, and have found the Yankees not 
 so terrible as they anticipated." 
 
 "And Mr. Sharp? I claim him as a 
 friend." 
 
 " He is well. He rather enjoys the pres- 
 ence of Northern troops." 
 
 *' I come from Tennessee, but have not 
 been near Claiborne County. Hence my 
 inquiries. I have had the pleasure of 
 meeting Madame la Generale lately. I be- 
 lieve she is here now?" 
 
 "Certainly," cried Emma. "And, bye 
 the bye, here is a friend of yours, buried in 
 her novel, I suppose, behind the curtain 
 like a fairy in the play." She lifted the 
 damask curtain which had been released 
 from the loop and swept the floor. At the 
 window sat Antonia, book in hand. She 
 started up and flushed a bright red, then 
 turned pale as a lily. Welland shook like 
 an aspen leaf. He recovered his compos- 
 ure almost immediately, and advancing to 
 the slight figure in azure and lace, said : 
 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure. Are 
 you well, Miss Goldman?" 
 
 " Thank you. Quite well." 
 
 " It is some time since we met. I carried 
 away the most vivid reminiscences from 
 Tennessee. Indeed I can not think of it, 
 without seeming to inhale the mingled 
 odor of roses and pines." 
 
 "We have not treated you well. "We 
 scarce deserve that you think kindly of 
 us," said Antonia. 
 28* 
 
436 Differences. 
 
 " You refer to the little ebullition of pop- 
 ular feeling which compelled me to leave ? 
 I have almost forgotten it. It was nothing 
 personal. Merely a symptom of the com- 
 ing storm. I can appreciate that now." 
 
 ** Still, you were treated rather roughly 
 I understand," said Charles. " Colonel 
 Tourtelotte told me the whole of it, I 
 think." 
 
 " The Colonel proved a trusty friend to 
 me at the time," said Welland. 
 
 Emma had watched both attentively 
 from the first. -She had noticed Antonia 
 slip the loop of the curtain when Welland 
 entered. The blushea and trembling did 
 not escape iier. And the present conver- 
 sation was too shallow to hide from her the 
 feelings it was intended to cloak and dis- 
 guise. 
 
 " Let me ipake a gallant disposal of you, 
 Mr. Welland," s^he said ; ** I wish to con- 
 verse with Charles, and give you as cheva- 
 lier d^honneur to Miss Goldman, to have 
 and to hold, to entertain and to amuse, to 
 attend and lo compliment, until—" 
 
 " L'ntil the dinner bell rings," said 
 Charles. 
 
 So Welland was put at the side of Anto- 
 nia, who found herself in great trepida- 
 tion. But he did not take advantage of his 
 position, and— such is human nature, with 
 its ten thousand weaknesses— she regretted 
 a little that he did not. He managed to 
 keep up a conversation on general topics, 
 talking a good deal himself, and continu- 
 
Differences. 437 
 
 iially drawing Charles or Emma in, by re- 
 ferring to tliem. When Emma saw this, 
 and appreciated that her little plan to 
 unite the lovers— for such she considered 
 them to be— had failed, she arose, opened 
 the piano, and requested the Colonel to 
 sing. He acceded with a good grace, and 
 striking an accompaniment in some sad 
 minor key, sang a German song, full of 
 love and melancholy, full of plaintive 
 mourning "for something lost. "It was 
 enough to give one the blues for a week," 
 said Charles pathetically to Emma. But 
 scarce had he concluded it, when, as if 
 struck by a sudden thought, he burst into 
 that brilliant air from Rigoleito, which is 
 the essence of light-hearted carelessness 
 and frivolous ideas of woman. 
 
 Later, Mr. Reichenau entered, and re- 
 joiced heartily to find Welland. After 
 their first interchange of greetings, the 
 latter said: 
 
 "I have had a fortune presented to me." 
 
 "What do you mean," asked the mer- 
 chant. "A fortune?" 
 
 Welland gave him an account of his 
 luck, and the means by which it had fal- 
 len to him. Reichenau said, that he had 
 known Hassel in connection with Tourte- 
 lotte. 
 
 All that evening, and for several days to 
 come, Antonia and Welland preserved the 
 cool, unconcerned appearance of friends, 
 whenever they met in the presence of oth- 
 ers. They never saw each other alone, un- 
 
438 DiFFKRENCES. 
 
 til the day before Welland's departure. 
 Then, as it happened, he called to take 
 leave of Madame la Generale. She was in- 
 disposed, and he found Antonia in the sit- 
 ting-room. He talked about indifferent 
 matters in a quick nervous way, and she 
 replied in short agitated sentences. At 
 last he rose to take leave. 
 
 " Present my respectful adieus to Ma- 
 dame," he said. " If the fortune of war 
 should leave me alive, I hope to find her 
 still in Xew York, when these troubles are 
 over. Mrs. Goldman intends to come here, 
 I believe." 
 
 '* Yes. She has written to us." 
 
 " Should I have the opportunity of visit- 
 ing Pineland, I shall indulge in happy rem- 
 iniscences of the days I spent there former- 
 ly. Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye," said she, taking his hand 
 and holding it. " Have j'ou received my 
 letter?" 
 
 -*' I have," he replied, stopping and gaz- 
 ing into her sea-blue eyes. 
 
 She cast them down. "And have you 
 forgiven ?" she asked, almost inaudibly. 
 
 " Where I would have gladly sacrificed 
 my life, I am willing to sacrifice my happi- 
 ness," he replied, in a very serious tone. 
 "Though the one is worth little, without 
 the other." 
 
 " Do you know that you are speaking 
 very cruel words?" she asked. 
 
 *' Do you know that you have done a 
 very cruel thing ?" he replied. 
 
Differences. 439 
 
 She hung her head. "Oh, if I could do 
 as I would !" she murmured. 
 
 "Everyone can do as he will. As for 
 j-ou, Miss Goldman, you have acted— and 
 if not in accordance with your will, if 
 merely in obedience to circumstances, I 
 pity you. A disciplined mind should re- 
 sist the inlluence of circumstances. Good- 
 bye." And he went. 
 
 "He despises mei Oh Godi" and the 
 poor girl sat down and cried heartily. 
 " Perhaps it is better so. He will not re- 
 gret me mu«h. While J, oh, I adore him!" 
 
 Time passed. Charles went to prison 
 and was exchanged. Tourtelotte, ex- 
 changed at the same time, led some of the 
 boldest raids of the war. The Goldmans 
 resided now mainly in New York, except 
 Mr. Sharp, who took care of the estate and 
 Mrs. Goldman, who made long visits to be 
 in the way of news from Charles. Wel- 
 land did not take another leave of absence. 
 His faithful services were rewarded by the 
 grade of Brigadier General. He communi- 
 cated frequently with Mr. Reichenau, but 
 never inquired about the Goldmans, except 
 transmitting his respects to the family. He 
 was growing rapidly into a stern, serious 
 man, of the confirmed heavy bachelor type, 
 whose face was rarely illumined by a 
 smile. 
 
440 Differences. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 The war was over. The Southern troops, 
 deprived of their arms, were sent home in 
 detachments, after having passed " sub ju- 
 gum," that is, taken their parole. The 
 South was filled with mourning and con- 
 sternation at the success of the hated Yan- 
 kees, and yet there was a general feeling of 
 relief, because the long and harrowing war 
 was over. The people succumbed peace- 
 fully to the measures imposed by the 
 North, but it was with the peace born of 
 utter exhaustion. They suffered and suf- 
 fered in silence, because they imagined 
 that tho North would rejoice to hear their 
 groans. They had ruined themselves com- 
 pletely. Every able-bodied man had serv- 
 ed in the field. Every one left at home, 
 raised corn for the army. The cotton and 
 tobacco was burnt, to keep it from the 
 Yankees. The horses had been drafted or 
 carried off. Their Government scrip was 
 not worth the paper it was printed on. 
 Their woolen stuffs, even down to carpets, 
 had been cut up for army blankets. Their 
 negroes were free, and had in many cases 
 assumed a hostile attitude. And their 
 proud patriotic ladies walked to the Pro- 
 vost Marshal's office to take the oath of al- 
 legiance, in order to secure rations for their 
 little ones. These facts, with the quarter 
 of a million of Southern graves studding 
 the land, might well have planted despair 
 in the hearts of those that loved the South 
 
D I F F K R E N O E S . 441 
 
 ^vUh that passionate devotion, so charac- 
 teristic of the nature of her sons. 
 
 It had made an old man of Frank Tourte- 
 lotte. When he came back to Claiborne 
 County, and in the public streets his own 
 negroes met their former strict and some- 
 times violent master with an impertinent 
 laugh, it turned his soul to gall. When ho 
 rode over the lauds of his estate and saw 
 them lying fallow, and noticed the look of 
 desolation which had crept over them ; 
 when he contemplated his bouse going to 
 ruin for want of repairs, and the stumps of 
 the stately trees, all of which had been cut 
 down because a Norihern Captain had 
 thought it a military necessity to do so; 
 when he recollected that, beside all this, 
 there were mortgages on the land, and 
 claims on the harvests for two years to 
 come; when he reflected on the impossi- 
 bility of escaping ruin, utter ruin every 
 way he turned— then Frank Tourtelotte 
 was not far from despair, and more than 
 once did he regret not having fallen, while 
 bravely fighting for the liberties and rights 
 of his State. A feeling, which took pos- 
 session of him more and more, was the de- 
 sire to go away, to leave the land where it 
 had become impossible for him to live in 
 content. He at first imagined that all the 
 South shared his own bitterness, and from 
 day to day he hoped to hear of uprisings 
 and guerrilla bands, and a predatory sort 
 of warfare. But as the people submitted 
 without a struggle, as the oath was taken 
 
442 Differences. 
 
 far and wide, he began to despise his own 
 section, and encouraged a sort of misan- 
 thropy, the leadingsentiment of which was 
 hatred and contempt of every American, 
 North or South. 
 
 It was in this state of feeling he met Mr. 
 Sharp. 
 
 •' Ah, Colonel Tourtelotte," cried the old 
 man. " Glad to see you back again. I 
 congratulate you on the return of peace." 
 
 " Save your congratulations, sir, for 
 those that rejoice in peace; but don't 
 bother me !" 
 
 "Don't be angry with me, Colonel; you 
 mustn't make your friends suffer, because 
 the Xortli was too much for the South." 
 
 "My friends? I have not the honor to 
 count Mr. Sharp among them," retorted 
 Tcurtelotte, in the worst of humors. 
 
 " Xever mind. I give you leave to take 
 that honor ; for I intend to be a friend to 
 you. Colonel." 
 
 " And give me advice, I suppose. Thank 
 you, I don't need any." 
 
 " No, not advice, but money. What do 
 3'ou say to that?" 
 
 " That I do not believe it. Good day, 
 sir," and he turned to go. 
 
 But Sharp detained him. " Don't be so 
 hasty, Colonel. I am an honest man, and 
 one of feeling. I can imagine how irritating 
 the present condition of affairs must be to 
 you. 1 have thought it over, and as a busi- 
 ness man and a neighbor, I have deter- 
 mined to give you my opinion. Please do 
 
Differences. 443 
 
 not treat me so roughly, however, for you 
 will frighten every idea out of my head." 
 
 " If 1 have treated you roughly, I beg 
 your pardon," returned Tourtelotte, re- 
 suming the suavity of manner habitual to 
 him. "The camp has spoiled our man- 
 ners, and we can not put off the customs of 
 militar}^ life as readily as we can the uni- 
 form. I am waiting to 1 sten to j'ou, sir, 
 if you have any thing to communicate." 
 
 They sat down in a bow window of the 
 hotel at Sycamore. There was nobody else 
 in the room but a negro boy asleep on a 
 chair. Sharp ordered drinks, and when 
 they had arrived, cleared his throat several 
 times, and said : 
 
 " You imagine that I am more pleased at 
 this termination of the war than you are. 
 You are mistaken. I am not. All our ne- 
 groes are gone as well as yours. And if 
 your fields lie uncultivated for want of 
 hands, so do the fields ot Pineland this 
 summer. And w^hy do you not have hands, 
 and why do we not have any ? Because we 
 are unable to pay for them. You have 
 lost money, and we have lost immense 
 sums, and we are not as well able to stand 
 it as you, I believe." 
 
 *' I do not see why you are describing 
 this condition which every gentleman in 
 the South shares at the present moment. 
 Every one, except, perhaps, Mr. Goldman. 
 For he is rich, and not likely to have sac- 
 rificed his interests to his poli'ics." 
 
 " You are mistaken. Mr. Goldman sold 
 
444 D I F F E R K N C E S . 
 
 all his Northern stocks before the war, and 
 invested in Sontliern bonds. He has lost 
 immensely. I have advised him to sell 
 Pineland, and go into business in Nev\' 
 York, where he is at present with his fam- 
 ily." 
 
 " Yes. I thought it strange, that they 
 had not returned before this. I imagined 
 on account of Charley. But who will buy 
 Southern estates now? With confiscatioii 
 hanging over our head, and no hands to be 
 got to work in the fields." 
 
 *' Confiscation is nonsense. Xo estates 
 will be confiscated. And those that have 
 monej% can import German and Irish la- 
 borers." 
 
 " Have you heard of any one willing to 
 buy ?" 
 
 "I have. And I am even an authorized 
 agent of a New Y''ork merchant for that 
 purpose. Thus you see that my present 
 conversation with you is not wholly disin- 
 terested." 
 
 " I thought tlu' cloven foot would show," 
 said Tourtelotte, with a laugh. "Especi- 
 ally w^hen you were so persistent." 
 
 " You wrong me. Though not wholly 
 disinterested myself, as I confess, yet 
 what 1 have in mj^ mind, is also for your 
 advantage. I can readily show you that." 
 
 *' My dear ISIr. Sharp, remember that I 
 listen to you from pure courtesy, and not 
 because I have the slightest idea of heed- 
 ing your advice. If you ritust talk then, 
 make- it short, I sincerely pray. My tem- 
 per has been tried sorely of late." 
 
Differences. 445 
 
 " My dear Colonel, remember that I talk 
 to 3'ou from pure kindness and neighborly- 
 feeling, which may be mistaken, but are 
 sincere. As for any profit, it is not enough 
 to merit my attention. I thank God, that 
 I have enough invested in French stocks to 
 purchase a quarter of a dozen of Southern 
 estates and run them." 
 
 ** I am glad to hear it ; yon have been 
 fortunate," said Tourtelotte, with much 
 envy, and a great deal more deference ; he 
 was impressed in his own despite by the 
 means of the little old man. "Let us hear 
 what you have to propose." 
 
 " First of all, I wish to get your permis- 
 sion to state your case as a lawyer would, 
 without fear and favor." 
 
 " Very well. I am desirous of hearing 
 what view a business man of Mr. Sharp's 
 calibre will take of my affiiirs." 
 
 "Well then: Your estate is mortgaged 
 for two thirds its value." 
 
 " How do you know that?" asked Tourte- 
 lotte, flushing angrily. 
 
 " What sort of an agent should I make, 
 if I didn't?" smiled Sharp. "The two 
 first harvests are also mortgaged." 
 
 *'You are insulting me, sir. I will not 
 bear it, even from an old man." 
 
 " But for God's sake, Colonel, I am 
 merely talking business! Shall I say 
 your estate is free from debt, thriving and* 
 productive? Just consider for a moment! 
 I am stating a case, and business is not 
 courtesv." 
 
446 Differences. 
 
 " Very well. I was hasty. Please con- 
 tinue, sir." 
 
 *' As matters are at present, our negroes 
 are gone, and no working hands to be had. 
 Capital is scarce. And those who have it, 
 find more profitahle invtstments than 
 lending it to Southern landlords. But it 
 will not be long before our creditors of the 
 North appear and pounce on us. They 
 will require their interests for the four 
 years of the war, and perhaps their capital. 
 Wherewith shall we pay them ? Whence 
 is the money to come ? Many of us will be 
 ruined ; a great many will be fuined." 
 
 "It is a sad fact," replied Tourtelotte, 
 moodily. " But, what help?" 
 
 " Wait a moment. Our social aflfairs are 
 scarcely better. Our houses are dilapidated. 
 Our furniture has been carried off by the 
 negroes. I have seen a white damask sofa 
 that came irom the parlor of the Armis- 
 teads, used for a cot in a negro cabin ; their 
 lace curtains turned into shawls for darkey 
 women, and the nigger babies play with a 
 book of their rarest engravings." 
 
 "It is horrible; it makes my blood boil. 
 I should have brained the wretches." 
 
 " Yes. But the wretches were in the ma- 
 jority. Well : the State will fill up with 
 Northern merchants, and Western farm- 
 ers. They w ill crowd the old blood out 
 completely. They will buy our land, and 
 cultivate it more successfully than we ever 
 did. They will rule at the polls. In short, 
 the Southern gentleman will be a character 
 
Differences. 447 
 
 to ridicule, perhaps pity, but never again 
 to lead. He is a thing of the past. With 
 Lee's surrender, his death warrant was 
 signed." 
 
 "The devil take you for this picture," 
 cried the other, violentl}-. "And ii it were 
 so, what help for it except a man drive a 
 bullet through his brain? Why do you 
 tell me all this?" 
 
 " To show that there are but two alterna- 
 tives. The Southern gentleman, as such, 
 must disappear. That is an accomplished 
 fact. If you remain on the soil, you will 
 sink into a rank far below the Northern 
 invader. This gentleman, if he can do so, 
 should go to France or England and create 
 for himself a position there. If not, let 
 him go North, enter into commerce, and 
 compete with the Northerner on his o\\ n 
 ground. I have advised Mr. Goldman to 
 do the latter." 
 
 ** I can not do that. I am not fit for com- 
 merce. And I will not descend to that. If 
 I were not connected with the Gold- 
 mans — " 
 
 " You mean Antonia?" 
 
 Tourtelotte nodded moodily. 
 
 "Will you permit me a word on that 
 subject?" asked Sharp cautiously. 
 
 " Talk on." 
 
 " Well, it seems to me that present cir- 
 cumstances should dissolve that connec- 
 tion. Of course, I know nothing but the 
 practical aspect of the*affair." 
 
 " You mean that I am too poor to marry 
 
448 Differences. 
 
 her? Do you speak with authority? Is 
 
 that the drift of your talk ?" 
 
 " Neither the one, nor the other. You 
 are not too poor to marr^- her, as Mr. Gold- 
 man himself is quite as poor, though his 
 estate is not mortgaged. I have no autho • 
 rity whatever for mj'^ opinions, except 
 common sense. But where are you going 
 to take her, and how are you going to live 
 in comfortable style, and who will pay the 
 debts on the estate, and furnish the funds 
 to work it? Consider that, Colonel." 
 
 "I depended on Mr. Goldman for funds 
 to pay off the mortgages and work the 
 ground," returned Tourtelotte. 
 
 " And he would furnish them to his son- 
 in-law if he could," said Sharp, " but 
 ready monej^ he has none." 
 
 "Still Antonia will have much when 
 Madame Outon dies." 
 
 *' Don't depend on her. She will found 
 some charitable institution to commem- 
 orate Napoleon with most of her mone^', 
 and as for the rest — if she gives any to An- 
 tonia, you know she loves you not." 
 
 "Still she could not help giying Antonia 
 a considerable sun)." 
 
 "Perhaps. But tied up, and secured to 
 her children, with a life interest for her. 
 She is very provident, Madame is." 
 
 " Well sir, we have gotten on a delicate 
 subject. Let us drop it. I am much 
 obliged for what you have told me. One 
 more question, if you please." 
 
 " Any number. Colonel. I am at your 
 service." 
 
Differences. 449 
 
 ** How much could I get for my estate as 
 it is? And— and could no other arrange- 
 ment but that of a sale be suggested?" 
 
 Sharp retlecled. " For the estate with its 
 encumbrances," he said, slowly, "I could 
 give dollars. As far as another ar- 
 rangement is concerned, I would be ready 
 to take it, I think, in lease for ten years, 
 pay off the mortgages in that time, improve 
 it generally, and give an annual rent of 
 
 dollars. With capital to work it well, 
 
 I think I might do that profitably." 
 
 '* And keep up the old house?" 
 
 "And keep up the old house. When 
 you have thought of this, please let me 
 know." 
 
 " I will. Thank you. Good morning, 
 Mr. Sharp," 
 
 Tourtelotte mounted his horse, and rode 
 off. TJie otters made by Mr. Sharp, ex- 
 ceeded his expectations by far. Accepting 
 either one of them, he would be able to 
 live on the continent — say in Paris or 
 Rome, not only in comfort, but in good 
 style. He might leave the country, where 
 life had become to him bitter as gall. Per- 
 haps in foreign service, perhaps in foreign 
 society there might be distinction and 
 honor in store for him. But not in Amer- 
 ica. There his part was played. 
 
 As for Antonia Goldman, she had become 
 an impossibility. That was clear. He 
 could not descend to commerce and work 
 day after day in the slow and devious 
 paths, where dollars are gathered by tak- 
 
450 Differences. 
 
 iug advantage of your neighbors. No, he 
 nmst resign her. Circumstances had part- 
 ed them. After all, she had onh^ promised 
 to be his if the South prove victorious. In 
 reality, they were not engaged at all. 
 
 It was a sign of the sad condition to which 
 troubles and irritations combined with real 
 misfortune had reduced Frank Tourtelotte, 
 that he could give up Antonia. The man 
 was, in truth, bowed down, in a state of ut- 
 ter dejection and misanthropy, hating his 
 country and his countrymen. He was as 
 near brok.en-hearted as such a man 
 could be. 
 
 That day he wrote two letters. The one 
 was addressed to Antonia, the other to 
 Sharp. The fii-st ran thus : 
 
 Dearest Antonia :— Fate is stronger 
 than mortals. The misfortunes which have 
 destroyed the South, have also wrecked 
 my heart and fortune. I am not in a con- 
 dition to ask for that hand, for the possess- 
 ion of which I would willingly have re- 
 signed my life. I shall leave this land, 
 probably never to return. In foreign 
 climes I shall seek to forget that my 
 country is a captive and a slave, and that 
 Antonia can not be mine. You are free, 
 dearest and best beloved. I nullify your 
 promise, because I think more of you than 
 of myself—who is not fit now to"^brighten 
 the life of a sweet innocent girl. Farewell, 
 Antonia. I shall always love you and the 
 South, though I have resigned both. 
 
 Frank Tourtelotte. 
 
 The other letter was to Mr. Sharp. The 
 contents were these : 
 Mr. Sellingtcn Sharp : 
 
 Dear Sir: — Your proposition, regarding 
 
Differences. 451 
 
 the ten years lease, T accept herewith, on 
 
 condition that doHars are paid to nie 
 
 at once, over and above your ofler. Please 
 forward the inclosed letter toMiss Antonia 
 Goldman, and communicate your answer 
 to the above as soon as convenient. 
 Respectfully, 
 
 FeANK TOITIITELOTTE. 
 
 In the evening, he wrote a long letter to 
 a cousin in Louisiana, acquainting him 
 with his resolve and the reasons for it, and 
 requesting that his cousin, Miss Tourte- 
 lotte, might find a home in his house. If 
 not, he should take her with him. But he 
 hoped the latter would not be necessary, as 
 his own means w^ere greatly straightened. 
 
 CHAPTER XLA^T. 
 
 It was a few daj^s before that ou which 
 Charles was to be married. Emma Reich- 
 enau had gone through the form of con- 
 ' version to her future husband's faith. The 
 Goldman family was delighted and grate- 
 ful in consequence. This was chiefly due to 
 "VVelland, w^ho smoothed the way on both 
 sides. Since his return from the war, with 
 a Brigadier General's straps on his shoul- 
 ders, he had resided in New York, and re- 
 sumed his former intimacy with the Reieh- 
 enaus and Goldmans. But toward Anto- 
 nia he maintained a coldness w^hich wasall 
 the more chilling from a studied attention 
 to the minutest dictates of social etiquette. 
 She responded to it by a manner of veserv- 
 29- 
 
452 Differences. 
 
 ed but reproachful sadness. In arranging 
 the matter of the conversion, Welland had 
 said to Mrs. Goldman : 
 
 " It is merely a custom, and not a posi- 
 tive law that Israelites should not inter- 
 marry with Gentiles. Even in the case of 
 idolaters the bible, after urging that at- 
 tempts be made to change the lover's 
 mind, permits it, if such attempts prove 
 fruitless. Moses himself married a Heathen 
 woman, Solomon wedded the daughter of 
 the Egyptian king, and Leah and Rachel, 
 when J-icob wooed them, prayed to idols. 
 It is probable that all these accepted their 
 husband's faith after a while, but nowhere 
 is mention made of any positive conver- 
 sion, or any form used." 
 
 " Is it not considered a sin in the bible?" 
 asked Mrs. Goldman. 
 
 *' It does not seem to have been. For in 
 the instance of Ruth, a Moabite woman, 
 her having been married to a Jew, is men- 
 tioned without any blame being attached 
 to the act." 
 
 " But it is so ancient a custom." 
 
 ^' Yes. But many more ancient customs 
 have been disregarded of late, and the 
 heavens have not fallen. Beside, it is per- 
 haps not so ancient as you think. When 
 the Israelites first left the holy land and 
 scattered over the earth, in all probability, 
 they intermarried with the nations among 
 whom they settled." 
 
 ** How do you know that it is so?" 
 
 '• By the laws against it, which were 
 
Differences. 453 
 
 enacted in various lands some time after. 
 A law against any practice, always pre- 
 supposes such a practice to have existed." 
 
 " That would scarce seem sufficient evi- 
 dence," replied Mrs. Goldman. " You 
 know that it is held our race has kept 
 pure." 
 
 " Such an opinion is perhaps flattering, 
 but not true. I will give you physiological 
 evidence. Whence come the blue and i^raj 
 eyes, and the red and yellow hair among 
 these pure descendants of the Orient? 
 Whence the fair complexions? Climate 
 will never do that to such an extent." 
 
 To Emma, Welland said : 
 
 *' God is God, whether adored in the 
 Jewish, Christian or Mohammedan man- 
 ner. For your husband's love, and the 
 peace of your married life, go through the 
 form of adopting the Jewish faith. It is 
 but a different method of adoring the same 
 Creator. You are not abandoning any 
 thing old or accepting any thing new. The 
 dogmas, moral teachings, and social pre- 
 cepts are the same in spirit. The ceremo- 
 nies only are different. Do it as a mani- 
 festation of 3-our love for Charles and his 
 parents." 
 
 And so it was done. 
 
 For the young couple, the daj^ of the 
 wedding was also the one of departure. 
 Tliey were to be married at twelve ; receive 
 their friends till two ; and start for Europe 
 at three. Mr. Reichenau accompanied 
 them, and General Welland, desirous of 
 
454 Differences. 
 
 re- visiting his native land, had taken pas- 
 sage on the same steamer. Aunt Margaret 
 was to be the guest of the Goldmans dur- 
 ing her brother's stuy in Europe, and the 
 Fifth Avenue mansion would be shut up. 
 As for Welland's bachelor rooms, he said, 
 that he would lock them up and take Ned 
 with him to Europe. 
 
 "When, on the appointed day, the hour of 
 noon drew nigh, the interior of that Jew- 
 ish temple, in which the cerei;nony was to 
 be performed, presented a gay appeanuice. 
 The seats near the pulpit were filled by the 
 friends of the parties. Ladies in silks of 
 all tints, from the most delicate white to 
 the deepest orange, with lace shawls and 
 diamonds, filled the pews, while gentlemen 
 in full dress stood behind them. A Rabbi 
 awaited the couple. He was seated in the 
 pulpit. 
 
 The doors opened, and Mr. Goldman en- 
 tered, leading Madame la Generale in mag- 
 nificent silver gray satin, with Brussels, 
 and diamonds, and pearls. The lace of 
 her cap was worth a fortune. Mrs. Gold- 
 man followed, leaning on Mr. Reichenau's 
 arm. Then came Antonia, led by Mr. 
 yharp, who was in wonderfullj^ fashion- 
 able trim. And last of all, Welland es- 
 corting aunt ]M!argaret. They took seats 
 quite near the pulpit, but did not stand up, 
 as Charles had declined all assistance of 
 that sort, and declared that he would 
 stand up alone. 
 
 The organ plaj-ed a prelude, and the 
 
Differences. 455 
 
 happy couple entered. Charles was un- 
 covered, but Emma's head drooped under 
 the vail and orange blossoms. She was 
 leaning on his arm, and with steady quick 
 steps, the}^ walked up the aisle and paused 
 in front of the pulpit, where the Rabbi 
 awaited them. The ceremony was gone 
 through with, and the blessing pronounced. 
 The newly married couple shook hands, 
 and left in the same manner, in which 
 they had entered. Then followed the rela- 
 tives ; and finally, the invited guests, those 
 nearest the pulpit walking out first. 
 
 It so happened, that in re-entering the 
 carriages, Mr. Sharp caused a good deal of 
 confusion in his party. Madame la Gen- 
 erale and Mrs. Goldman, with Mr. Reiche- 
 nau and Mr. Goldman, w^ere seated in one. 
 Then Mr. Sharp handed Antonia into an- 
 other, and detaining aunt Margaret, begged 
 Welland to enter. The General bowed, 
 and did so. No sooner was he seated, than 
 Mr. Sharp gave a letter to Antonia, and 
 slamming the door, signed the driv-er to go 
 on. Himself with aunt Margaret, he de- 
 posited in the next vehicle. 
 
 Welland looked out, and seemed to feel 
 vexed at this forced tete a tete. Antonia in 
 confusion, baw no better escape than read- 
 ing tho letter Sharp had given her. It was 
 Tourtelotte's. When she had finished it, 
 she said : 
 
 " Xoble gentleman !" and with a grand 
 gesture, gave the letter to Welland. 
 
 He bowed, and read it. When ho had 
 
456 I^IFFEIIEXCES. 
 
 finished, his face showed much agitation. 
 But he said nothing in reply to her inquir- 
 ing glance. Driven by the importance of 
 the opportunity, which was passing away 
 with every step the horses made, she said 
 softly : 
 
 "Whatdoj'ou say to that, Louis Wel- 
 land?" 
 
 *' It is not for me to express an opinion, 
 Miss Goldman," he replied, coldly. " But 
 if you wish it — I thinK such noble senti- 
 ments should be rewarded." 
 
 "Rewarded? Aye. If I could do so 
 without sacrificing a life's happiness." 
 
 " It is easier to sacrifice the happiness of 
 others, than one's own." 
 
 "Have I merited this reproach?" slie 
 asked, sadly. *' Perhaps I have, but if so, 
 I am sufficiently punished." 
 
 "If I have said aught to offend you, I 
 beg your pardon," he replied, coldly. 
 "Have you any commissions for Europe? 
 You know that I go with this afternoon's 
 steamer." 
 
 " I have none. I do not believe that you 
 lilCe America sufficiently ever to return. 
 1)0 you?" 
 
 " Yes. I shall return when I get tired of 
 drifting about without aim or purpose. 
 But here we are. Permit me to assist you. 
 You have forgotten the Colonel's letter." 
 
 He picked it up, and handed it to her. 
 She took it, and entered the house. The 
 bridal couple were stationed in the embras- 
 ure of a window. The nearest relatives 
 
Differences. 457 
 
 stood to their right and left. The guests 
 passed in, offered their congratulations, 
 and out at another door into the sitting- 
 room, where the presents were disi)layed, 
 and the dining-room where a cold collation 
 and champagne awaited them. 
 
 Mrs. and Miss DeWolf were among the 
 foremost. The elder lady advanced with 
 great dignity, and gave three fingers to the 
 groom, two to the bride, and one to Anto- 
 nia. 
 
 " I wish 3-ou joy," she said. " You look 
 so well in white satin and laces, that you 
 should get married once a year at least." 
 
 ** If you will engage to kill oft^ my old 
 husbands, and provide me with new," re- 
 plied Emma, " I will even do so." 
 
 " How horrible to think of killing, when 
 you have just been married!" exclaimed 
 Miss DeWolf. ''Ave you not afraid, Mr. 
 Goldman?" 
 
 '' Xot in the least. Though I join you in 
 the wish that Emma may postpone the 
 idea of killing me, for a little while." 
 
 "Wish you joy! Wish you joy," said 
 Merrins. " Much better hands to fall into 
 than old Mr. Plygood's. Though he is a 
 good man. One of the best men in the 
 vx'orld. Happy to make the acquaintance 
 of Reichenau & Co. Known by reputation. 
 Though we have not transacted business 
 with each other." 
 
 And so on. Madame la Generale enter- 
 tained the French Consul and his lady. 
 Mr, Goldman and his wife had asked some 
 
458 Differences. 
 
 old New Orleans friends, whom they had 
 found in New York. Mr. Reichenau paid 
 court to the business men. Antonia was 
 supporting a conversation with some 
 young men of fashion, when Sharp mo- 
 tioned her away. 
 
 "Well? Are you satisfied with the let- 
 ter, child ?" 
 
 "Yes, thank you. Col. Tourtelotte is a 
 nol)le gentleman," 
 
 "Is all arranged ? "What is the matter ?" 
 
 " Nothing. General Welland iDrefers to 
 adhere to his original intention of going to 
 Europe, and I bade him God speed !" 
 
 "Bosh and nonsense!" and the old man 
 steamed off in search of Welland. 
 
 " Permit me to say. General," he whis- 
 pered, with great emi3hasis, " with all pos- 
 sible excuses for my opinion, that 3'ou are 
 an ass." 
 
 " An opinion is subjective," replied Wel- 
 land, " and every body has a right to his 
 own. Perhaps I am." 
 
 " I know you are. A proud, obstinate 
 fellow, who can not see his own advantage, 
 or will not take it." And he turned away. 
 
 An hour passed. The happy pair with- 
 drew, and got readj" to go to the steamer, 
 accompanied by a number of their friends. 
 Antonia was there, taking leaye of them. 
 Leaning on the bulwarks, stood Welland 
 with his hat off. The wind blew his black 
 hair back from his forehead, and his dark 
 eyes shone, out of a face pale and serious. 
 He shared the adieus of the bridal party. 
 
Differences. 459 
 
 When Antonia shook hands with him, she 
 could not master the expression of her sea- 
 blue eyes. A glance full of reproach, sor- 
 row and disappointment fell upon him, a 
 glance that trembled with hopeless yearn- 
 ing, and seemed loath to leave his face. In 
 the next moment she had turned, embrac- 
 ed Charles and Emma, and left the steamer 
 with her parents. Mr. Sharp, however, 
 again approached Welland, and went 
 through a growling '' Good-bye. My last 
 opinion of you is confirmed!" before he 
 left. 
 
 Antonia's last look haunted "Welland. 
 He said to himself, that a woman who had 
 once broken her promise, was unworthy of 
 further trust. He reasoned, that it would 
 be folly to expect love and confidence, for 
 life in one who could doubt him on such 
 slight premises. He assvired himself that 
 doubt killed love, as the frost nips liowers. 
 And yet, notwithstanding all his reason- 
 ing, he felt the old love strong within him, 
 and knew that he could never be very 
 happy away from Antonia. 
 
 And the breeze blew freshly, and the 
 waves of the harbor danced in the sun- 
 light, and the steamer left a snowy trail of 
 foam as it made its way oceanward. 
 
 Charles and Emma approached, both 
 with the light of happiness in their eyes. 
 
 " You are going to Europe, General, to 
 select a she-General I suppose," said 
 Cliarles, laughing. " I believe I am per- 
 
460 Differences. 
 
 mitted to make such remarks, being a mar- 
 ried man." 
 
 *' Of two hours standing,'' said Emma. 
 " And I shall make use of my privilege as 
 matron to look out a match for you. You 
 have disappointed me sadl}', General. I 
 thought you would be engaged before 
 this." 
 
 "ToAvhom?" asked Charles. "May I 
 know?" 
 
 " No, you may not. Unless you guess," 
 replied Emma. 
 
 " Miss DeWolf ? Isn't it?" 
 
 "Horrible. Though I believe you ad- 
 mired her yourself." 
 
 " Well, I did, I will confess, and perhapc 
 do still." 
 
 " I will apply for a divorce the moment 
 we ai-rive." 
 
 " Beware of jealousy ! You are a perfect 
 female Othello." 
 
 And they strolled on. The features of 
 Charles transfigured with happiness, re- 
 called all the charms of Antonia to Wel- 
 land's mind, and his heart began to long 
 and yearn with a hunger that would not 
 be satisfied or turned away by reasoning. 
 Onward sped the steamer, and every revo- 
 lution of the wheels carried him further 
 f:om her. When he could return, where 
 would she be ? Would her affection for 
 him endure the chill of disappointment? 
 
 Might not some one else this thought 
 
 was torture. He paced the deck with 
 
D I F F E K E N C K S . 461 
 
 quick sleps. Suddenly he heard u noiso 
 alongside, and saw the pilot descending 
 into his boat and preparing to cast off. At 
 the same time Mr. Reichenau appeared, 
 and asked him to go down to dinner. 
 With a hasty adieu he left his astonished 
 friend, and hurried over the ship's side into 
 the pilot boat. 
 
 '* Wliere in heaven's name are j^ou go- 
 ing?" asked the astonished merchant, lean- 
 ing over the bulwarks. 
 
 '* Back to New York," replied Welland, 
 in a joyous voice. " Good-bye," and he 
 waved his hand. 
 
 The little boat was dancing on the waves, 
 and the huge wheels of the steamer resum- 
 ed their rapid revolutions. On, to the 
 shores of the old world went the one, back 
 to the metropolis of the new, the other. It 
 was late in the night when the pilot boat 
 reached the wbarf. Welland did not go to 
 his rooms, but paced the streets till morn- 
 ing. Then he took a bath. He tried to 
 breakfast, but could not. It was impossi- 
 ble for him to remain quiet. It seemed as 
 if the forenoon would never wear awa3^ 
 At last it struck eleven. He immediately 
 
 presented himself at the C , and sent his 
 
 card up to Antonia. She came down with 
 a pale, scared face, and asked, trembling 
 violently : 
 
 " Has a misfortune happened?" 
 
 " Not unless you consider mj^ return a 
 misfortune," he replied, smiling brightly. 
 
462 Differences. 
 
 " But how did you come here. I thought 
 5'ou went with Charles." 
 
 *' I did, but returned on the pilot boat." 
 
 She drew^ a long breath, and relieved 
 from her anticipations of an accident, ven- 
 tured to look at him with greater atten- 
 tion. 
 
 His face was flushed. His eyes eagerly 
 sought hers, and there was a certain ex- 
 pression in his smile, which called the 
 blushes into her countenance, and made 
 her cast down her ej- es. He went to her, 
 and tenderly took her hands. 
 
 "Antonia," he said, "I judged you 
 harshly. In my pride I thought to resign 
 you. But I felt that with you I resigned 
 my happiness. Dear girl, will you pardon 
 a repentant heart ? Antonia, will you be 
 my wife?" 
 
 And she replied, gently and humbly : 
 
 "1 will, Louis," and laid her head upon 
 his bosom. 
 
 Then he folded his arms around her, and 
 kissed her sweet brow. 
 
 " United in love," he said, "notwith- 
 standing former differences." 
 
 " United forever," she replied. 
 
 I THE EN' I?. 
 
 \ 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 780