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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES '
 
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 -.' ^.v . "^Ajiftafei 
 
 FRONTISPIE(;E. Meta Wallace.
 
 META WALLACE, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 BY AGNES D. RANDOLPH. 
 
 "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a 
 far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; 
 
 "While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things 
 which are not seen : for the things which are seen are temporal ; but the 
 things which are not seen are eternal." 2 COR, iv: 17-18. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 CONGREGATIONAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY, 
 
 CORNER BEACON AND SOMERSET STREETS.
 
 COrVKlGHT, 1881, BY THE CONGREGATIONAL ruilLISHlNii .sooliTY. 
 
 Stereotyped by Thomas To.1.1, 1 Somerset Street, Boiton.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 N the handsome library at Bellevue, sur 
 rounded by elegant furniture and costly 
 books, rare gems of statuary and paint 
 ing, luxurious easy-chairs, and the innumerable 
 appliances of wealth that bore witness to modern 
 invention, stood an old, quaintly carved desk, 
 that had been an heirloom in the family for gen 
 erations. With an air of superiority, as if im 
 pressed with the fact that its sturdy frame had 
 defied time and its ravages, while the heirs were 
 gathered to their fathers, the venerable piece of 
 furniture looked down on its more modern 
 neighbors, as if defying them to stand before 
 the sage who had lived in the world so long, and 
 seen so many of its chances and changes under 
 this very roof. Somewhat after the fashion of 
 
 (0
 
 2 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 our grandfathers, though rather more silently, 
 perhaps, it bore witness to the immense superi 
 ority of its own age and day, while deploring 
 the degeneracy of ours; forgetful that had the 
 same world remained in primitive simplicity, its 
 very self had never been made. 
 
 The library being a forbidden apartment to 
 the children of the household, and the pigeon 
 holes and spindle legs of the venerable desk a 
 source of intense wonder and curiosity to child 
 hood, it was not surprising that the room be 
 came a great temptation to the occupants of the 
 nursery, and its locked door the cause of many 
 a wistful sigh. Mr. Wallace, when at Bellcvue 
 himself, sometimes invited Meta to a further ac 
 quaintance with his favorite retreat ; but during 
 the long summers, when her papa was away and 
 the room turned over to the housekeeper vig 
 ilant Mrs. Walker the child was never allowed 
 to enter, unless the door was left open by acci 
 dent, and she found her way in, unsuspected. 
 
 It was on one of these occasions that Meta 
 invaded her father's territory, and, after a look 
 at the pictures and books, scrambled up in a 
 chair at the old desk, seized a piece of paper 
 lying among the scraps in one of the pigeon 
 holes, and began to write in large characters, 
 talking to herself earnestly as she did so.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 3 
 
 " It's very provoking to have a doll's party all 
 to myself," she muttered, " and Walker never 
 will as much as taste anything. This old piece 
 of paper isn't nice enough for Kitty Clare, she's 
 so fashionable. Oh, dear ! I've blotted it, too ! " 
 Here ensued a moment's silence, as she turned 
 the oblong scrap of paper over in her hand, 
 looking ruefully at the blot, and discovering, for 
 the first time, that it was covered with writing 
 on the other side, with a very plain signature in 
 a bold, masculine hand, at the end. This diffi 
 culty was soon disposed of ; for, without pausing 
 to reflect, Meta tore the paper in half and thrust 
 it in one of the pigeon-holes, and then, possess 
 ing herself of a fresh sheet, began scribbling 
 again. She was so absorbed in her occupation 
 that she was conscious of nothing but Kitty 
 Clare and her doll's party, until the door opened 
 suddenly, and the redoubtable Walker stood be 
 fore her guilty eyes. 
 
 " O Meta, Meta ! What mischief are you in 
 now ? " 
 
 "Indeed, Mrs. Walker," faltered the child, 
 hurriedly scrambling to her feet, " indeed, I was 
 only writing a note." 
 
 " Writing a note ! " repeated the housekeeper, 
 suspiciously ; " and who were you writing to, I'd 
 like to know ? "
 
 4 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Only to Kitty Clare. I wanted her, ever so 
 much, to come to my doll's party " 
 
 " Kitty Clare ? I'll be bound you've been 
 playing with one of those village girls, and your 
 mamma will be blaming me, when she comes 
 home, for letting you do it." 
 
 " But, dear Walker, Florry and all the girls 
 are away with their mammas, and I have no one 
 to play with. I am sure mamma won't mind 
 Kitty, because because " 
 
 " Out with it," cried the housekeeper, impa 
 tiently. 
 
 " Because she's nobody at all, only a make- 
 believe little girl I play with every day. Don't 
 get mad, Walker, please don't ! You see," con 
 fidentially, "I am so tired of dolls, and I just 
 pretend to myself that Kitty lives in a beauti 
 ful house, and never does anything wrong or 
 naughty. Isn't it fun to make believe when 
 you get tired of playthings?" 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Walker, crossly; 
 "don't try to make me believe such foolishness! 
 Come along to my room until you can speak the 
 truth. Have you been at your father's papers 
 and books ? Did you dare to touch anything in 
 the library, along with your other naughtiness?" 
 
 Meta was silent a moment. Never having 
 been taught the necessity of truthfulness, she
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 5 
 
 had a habit of evading disagreeable admissions, 
 and, though naturally frank and ingenuous, 
 thought that, so long as actual falsehood was 
 avoided, there was no harm in telling a half 
 truth. Now, therefore, instead of admitting 
 that she had torn a piece of writing, she looked 
 timidly in the housekeeper's face, and said, 
 hesitatingly : 
 
 " Indeed, Mrs. Walker, papa keeps all his pa 
 pers locked up. I was only writing to Kitty 
 on an old piece, and it wouldn't do. I don't 
 think" 
 
 To Meta's infinite relief, her sentence was cut 
 short by the sudden appearance of Bridget, the 
 nurse and house girl, at the door. 
 
 " If ye please, mum, Mrs. Walker, the sheets 
 is waiting, and my irons is getting cold," said 
 the girl, beseechingly. 
 
 Mrs. Walker took the child's hand, and led 
 her from the room, in evident displeasure. 
 Meta, now that the possibility that she had 
 done some mischief was suggested, grew sud 
 denly grave ; but her gravity did not last long ; 
 and when the housekeeper's room was reached, 
 she had forgotten all about it, thinking only of 
 Walker's anger, and not of its cause. While 
 Bridget and the housekeeper were busy at the 
 linen closet, she looked out of the window at a
 
 6 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 brood of pretty yellow ducks, who were con 
 tentedly washing themselves in a muddy pool 
 in the yard. 
 
 "And is it wool-gathering ye are?" asked 
 Bridget's cheery voice, after a while. 
 
 "Oh, I was only thinking," replied Meta, start 
 ing out of her reverie, as the big hand was laid 
 on her shoulder in a rough caress. 
 
 "Thinking?" echoed Bridget; "and sure, 
 Mrs. Walker, ma'am, it's too much of the same 
 she does. What should the likes of her have to 
 be thinking about, sweet lamb ? " 
 
 " Thinking, eh ! " cried Mrs. Walker, from the 
 pile of linen ; " she'd better be thinking about 
 her own naughty ways. And, by the way, Miss 
 Mischief, you said awhile ago, in the library, 
 that you'd been writing to a nobody. I don't 
 half believe you, and I'd just like to have a little 
 talking, instead of so many idle thoughts. I'm 
 determined to have the truth out of you about 
 that Kitty something or other, so you may as 
 well make up your mind to tell me." 
 
 Mrs. Walker left her sheets in confusion, and 
 walked over to the window, looking very stern 
 and determined as she took Meta's round face 
 between her hands. A world of perplexity 
 shone in those pretty dark eyes, as it flashed 
 over Meta's mind how difficult it would be to
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. J 
 
 explain to the practical Mrs. Walker that she 
 really had spoken the truth, and Kitty was only 
 an imaginary character. 
 
 " I told you," she said, half sulkily, half fright 
 ened, "I told you she was nobody at all but a 
 little make-believe girl. O Walker," she went 
 on, throwing her arms about the woman, caress 
 ingly, "if you did know how tired I get with 
 those dolls ! I wish I had a nice little girl friend 
 to play with me, and then I would not have to 
 make believe. Don't get angry, Walker, please 
 don't" 
 
 But Walker was angry. The poor, starved, 
 unloved childhood had been so long the source 
 of her daily annoyance, that she had neither pa 
 tience nor wisdom to understand its longings. 
 
 "Don't think to impose on me" she cried, 
 contemptuously ; " I don't believe it's anything 
 but a story. You've gone and played with some 
 of those horrid village children, and I'll have to 
 take the blame. The idea of a girl ten years 
 old playing with make-believe people " 
 
 " Arrah ! Let the child say her own say, and 
 not be judging her like that," cried Bridget's 
 kind voice. " Don't you know, ma'am, it's the 
 way to make her deceive you, always misdoubt 
 ing her word ? Sure, Meta, you didn't mean to 
 tell an untruth, my honey, but just tell her you
 
 8 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 didn't," said the girl, coaxingly. But Meta was 
 not to be coaxed. She had been so often 
 doubted that she had grown indifferent to such 
 accusations, and felt she had no honor to vindi 
 cate. When Walker once made up her mind, 
 nothing could move her ; so generally these dis 
 putes ended in obstinate resistance on the 
 child's part, and perplexity on the housekeep 
 er's. Meta's face was now very red, and her 
 hands tightly clasped, but she did not utter a 
 sound. The child was learning self-control, at 
 the expense of truth and uprightness. 
 
 " If you won't open your mouth, I'll soon put 
 you where the use of your tongue will come to 
 you," cried the housekeeper, out of patience. 
 
 Meta only shrugged her shoulders, and pout 
 ed, though visions of a dark lumber-room up 
 stairs, which Mrs. Walker kept for purposes of 
 discipline, made her inwardly quail. The house 
 keeper, at heart, was a good woman, but she 
 possessed a most irritable temper ; and the un 
 limited control accorded her, during Mrs. Wal 
 lace's summer tours, made her often unjust. 
 She had been in the family during her own girl 
 hood, had imbibed its prejudices, and did very 
 much as she pleased with the whole establish 
 ment. Being of unblemished honesty, and very 
 capable, Mrs. Wallace never questioned her
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 ability to govern, and so Meta's youthful im 
 pressions were left to very questionable guid 
 ance. Bridget's heart, overflowing with kindly 
 sympathy, had long since accorded a loving ten 
 derness to the neglected child, and her inde 
 pendent partisanship had averted many a storm 
 in the nursery, where Florry tyrannized and Ed 
 ward teased. In the servants' department she 
 always interposed her brawny arms between 
 poor Meta and harm ; so a warm friendship had 
 sprung up between them, and in Meta's eyes 
 there was no sweeter, kindlier face than the 
 plain, good-natured features of her Irish nurse. 
 So now, when Mrs. Walker's wrath boiled over, 
 and the big key of the lumber-room was drawn 
 forth from the basket, to be put into immediate 
 use, Bridget laid an entreating hand on the 
 woman's arm, as she cried, earnestly : 
 
 " Sure, ma'am, / understand the child. She 
 didn't mean to deceive you, but she's been de 
 ceiving herself." 
 
 " Deceiving herself ? What can possess you, 
 Bridget ? You think Meta always in the right. 
 It is really absurd, the way you spoil the child." 
 
 " Nay, nay, ma'am," cried Bridget, with a 
 flushed face; "sure, an' I only wants justice 
 done. I did the same at her age, and was never 
 doubted the truth, neither. Oh, I remember me
 
 IO META WALLACE, OR 
 
 the make-believe people as I played with oft 
 and over, in the old field beyont my mother's 
 house in the dear auld counthry. O ma'am, let 
 the poor child alone with her friends ! " 
 
 The tender Irish heart was overflowing with 
 recollections of home, as Bridget wiped away 
 the moisture in her honest blue eyes with a cor 
 ner of her clean starched apron. 
 
 Mrs. Walker, with a sudden resolution, threw 
 the key of the lumber-room back in her basket, 
 and left the room, shutting the door with a 
 bang. 
 
 In a moment Meta was in Bridget's lap, hug 
 ging the fat neck with her pretty bare arms, 
 kissing and patting the homely face of her 
 homely friend. 
 
 " Don't cry, Bridget," she sobbed out ; " oh, 
 you dear old good Bridget, don't cry." But her 
 childish sympathy only brought the tears faster. 
 
 " Oh, the dear days that are gone from me ! " 
 sobbed the girl, her face buried in the apron; 
 " the father, the mother, the cottage, and all my 
 friends, and all my plays gone from me, and 
 only Johnny and poverty left." 
 
 Meta sat in an awestruck silence as Bridget's 
 broken sentences were sobbed out. Child as 
 she was, the sight of true grief banished her 
 own little cares, and roused the quick sympathy
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. \ \ 
 
 of her tender heart. That Bridget, her own 
 true friend, whose cheerful voice always roused 
 her from her own perplexities, should have a 
 trouble of her own, opened a new phase of life 
 to her wondering eyes. Were there greater 
 trials in the big world than the loneliness of a 
 dwarfed child-life, and the stinging sense of 
 daily, hourly injustice ? Were Mrs. Walker's 
 stern sentence, and papa's coldness, and mam 
 ma's absorption only a part of the great lesson 
 of sorrow to be learned ? 
 
 It seemed to Meta as if a shadow had drifted 
 over the sun, since Bridget, too, could cry. 
 That blithe, cheerful countenance was unlike 
 itself in tears ; yet, though longing to console 
 in her small way, she refrained, with instinctive 
 delicacy, from saying aught until the girl had 
 regained composure, and smiled in her face ; 
 and then self-control was lost in a passion of 
 tears on the broad shoulder of her friend. 
 
 It was thus Mrs. Walker found them a few 
 minutes later; and, mentally styling Bridget a 
 " silly goose," she sent her to another part of 
 the house, and prepared to hear Meta's defense 
 of her imaginary friends. Bridget's sorrow had 
 completely overcome the child's obstinacy, and 
 she volunteered the information Mrs. Walker 
 waited for. Vague guesses of the cause of her
 
 12 MET A WALLACE. 
 
 nurse's tears, and of who "Johnny" could be, 
 had entirely absorbed hot attention ; and though 
 she listened respectfully to Mrs. Walker's lect 
 ure on truthfulness, very little of it really en 
 tered her brain. When threatened with a letter 
 to mamma if Kitty Clare turned out to be a 
 flesh-and-blood village girl, instead of a myth, 
 she had dutifully answered, " Yes, ma'am," and 
 then joyfully accepted permission to follow 
 Bridget to the laundry. 
 
 As she closed the door after her, she paused 
 a moment in the passage ; and, hearing Bridget's 
 cheerful voice warbling the plaintive melody, 
 " Begone, dull care," Meta, with true childish 
 forgetfulness of trouble, ran off merrily to seek 
 her friend.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HE wondering brown eyes of our little 
 friend had opened on this busy life in 
 a beautiful apartment of a grand house 
 in New York. Silken curtains shut out rude 
 sounds from her baby ears, and delicate laces lay 
 cunningly around the little face ; yet Meta cried 
 like other wee babies, and took just as strange, 
 wondering observation of surrounding objects, 
 with her blinking baby eyes, as the rest of the 
 human family. Wealth could not take away the 
 aches and ills of babyhood ; nor could her cat 
 nip and pap, served in a gold-lined cup, by the 
 most dignified of nurses, still the determined 
 exercise of her baby lungs. She went through 
 the infinite variety of infant tortures, from 
 being dosed with sedatives when she was cross, 
 down to violent shakings when she would fain 
 
 (13)
 
 14 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 have slept, just as though she were not the 
 child of a household whose every wish was 
 gratified. 
 
 The Wallaces of Bellevue, on the Hudson, 
 were an old family, in which wealth had been 
 handed down from one generation to another; 
 and, at the time of which we write, Edward 
 Wallace stood in the foremost rank of the mill 
 ionaires of his native State. 
 
 They were a proud race, and had so long 
 "flourished like a green bay tree" in the garden 
 of earthly prosperity, that they felt an uncon 
 scious security against misfortune, and read of 
 the fate of those whose confidence was placed 
 in the multitude of riches as if they themselves 
 were set apart as too exclusive to be reached by 
 the adverse winds that made shipwreck of so 
 many human hopes. Mr. Wallace had retired 
 from business for some years, and" spent most 
 of his time at Bellevue during the winter, 
 though the family regularly went to town at 
 that season. Even here, surrounded by books 
 of all nations and people, he kept up the 
 old routine of thought. The accumulation of 
 money had so long absorbed every faculty of 
 his being, that even his luxurious surroundings 
 could not rouse his mind from the treadmill it 
 had gone over so diligently for years ; and he
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. I (J 
 
 still regulated his cheerfulness of spirit by the 
 fall or rise in gold. He did not come of a god 
 less race, for there had been Wallaces who had 
 suffered and died for the faith ; but the " deceit- 
 fulness of riches " and " the pride of life " had 
 choked the Word in his heart, and favored the 
 growth of such noxious weeds as needed a 
 strong Hand to uproot. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace was a fair, beautiful woman, in 
 the prime of life. At once the leader and the 
 envy of fashionable friends, she was, like her 
 husband, building a palace for her soul in which 
 to " eat, drink, and be merry," stifling all enno 
 bling desires in a perpetual round of gayety, and, 
 despite her wealth and her power, living a life 
 of absolute slavery to the world that false 
 
 world, with encroachments that chafe and perplex, 
 With its men against men, and its sex against sex. 
 
 That other world the great sorrowing heart 
 of human nature, throbbing out its woes in the 
 din of a great city was outside the narrow 
 boundary of her exclusive set, and she neither 
 believed, nor cared to vindicate, its wrongs. 
 Was it not enough that she scrupulously 
 headed subscription lists with a sum beyond 
 the reach of her neighbors? that she patronized 
 fairs and bazars, and even condescended to look
 
 1 6 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 pretty and bewitching behind the stalls thereof? 
 that she regularly entered her cushioned pew in 
 a white marble edifice, where low chantings, 
 and robed boys, and dim lights were artistic 
 aids to devotion ? If there were suffering 
 women and little barefooted children, with 
 starved bodies and souls, within a stone's throw 
 of her beautiful residence, didn't she pay sober 
 women, who liked ministering to " that sort of 
 people," to go and visit them by proxy ? Why 
 should her dainty skirts sweep through the 
 garbage, over dirty thresholds, to rooms whose 
 very odor made her faint ? 
 
 All very useless would it be, dear children, if 
 we could only look forward to shifting our judg 
 ment to come on some sober person who liked 
 "this sort of thing." But inasmuch as "if we 
 do unto the least of these," we have done unto 
 Christ himself, it is easy to see that the bless 
 ing cannot come by proxy, any more than deeds 
 of mercy can be entirely paid for, though it is 
 our own money that heads the list. That dis 
 cipline to our hearts, and that comfort to sor 
 rowing humanity, which deeds of charity in per 
 son alone can bring, is not to be wrung out of a 
 subscription-list to instruct the heathen. If we 
 would know how men and women, and even ten 
 der children, of like feelings with us, go through
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. IJ 
 
 the days and nights of sorrow and pain and 
 starvation, we must learn the lesson for our 
 selves ; ours must be the lips to cheer with 
 words of sympathy, ours the hands to hold the 
 cup of cold water to burning lips, else we have 
 only half accomplished the injunction laid upon 
 us by One whose care was not for the rich and 
 mighty, but for the sinful and sorrowing among 
 men. 
 
 The husband and wife were too much ab 
 sorbed in their separate interests to give them 
 selves up to a home life. Everything in the 
 stately house was conducted in admirable taste 
 and regularity ; but there was no one room, in 
 all the luxurious building, where that indescrib 
 able air of sympathy, and love, and tenderness 
 prevailed, which is such a blessed gift to most 
 of us in our homes. The grand nursery, where 
 hirelings performed the sweet offices that form 
 the joy and pride of motherhood, was too grand 
 to be comfortable. Children's voices were 
 tuned to a low key by discipline, and the ele 
 gant toys and furniture were only to be looked 
 at. Mrs. Wallace paid a visit, two or three 
 times a week, to the children's department, and 
 on such occasions allowed them to play with her 
 watch, or tell their grievances ; but the visit was 
 hardly a pleasure to her.
 
 1 8 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 Edward, Florence, and Meta were the only 
 survivors of six beautiful children. Wealth had 
 no power to stay the hand of the Destroyer, for 
 
 Death comes down with reckless footstep 
 To the hall and hut. 
 
 But, though the light of sweet eyes went out 
 in darkness, and the mother folded little waxen 
 fingers in a last clasp over the muslin drapery, 
 no lesson came home to the heart wrapped up 
 in so many worldly cares. The house was 
 closed, and the gayety ceased, for a season; but, 
 further than this, Mrs. Wallace gave no greater 
 evidence of her losses than the expensive half- 
 mourning that had replaced her more gaudy 
 surroundings. 
 
 The little ones who were spared to her were 
 left to struggle feebly upward to the light; 
 those who, at the splendid christenings, had 
 forsworn, in their names, " the world, the flesh, 
 and the devil," were in bondage themselves to 
 the same. 
 
 At the time we write of, Edward, the eldest, 
 was sixteen, and pretty much beydhd the con 
 trol of either parent. He spent an ample 
 allowance, while pretending to go through a 
 course of study at Yale, and had already oc 
 casioned his father considerable uneasiness lest
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. IQ 
 
 his energies as a man should be wasted in riot 
 ous living. 
 
 Florence, three years younger, was already a 
 miniature woman, who, promoted from the thral 
 dom of the nursery, entertained her mother's 
 visitors, and was regularly taken to the summer 
 resorts with her parents. Her lively manners, 
 witty conversation, and beautiful face, made her 
 the spoiled darling of the mother's heart, and 
 the pet of the fashionable coterie in which they 
 moved. 
 
 Meta, being only ten, and a shy, queer little 
 girl, always in disgrace, was still under the 
 dominion of nursery government ; and, while 
 her mamma and Florry drank in the exhilarat 
 ing ocean air, she was left all through the long, 
 hot summers at Bellevue, under Mrs. Walker's 
 charge. 
 
 On the whole, she liked the summers best. 
 She was too natural and free to learn Florry's 
 worldliness, and was always committing some 
 gaucherie in the drawing-room which brought 
 her in disgrace. City life stifled her ; for she 
 hated to be dressed, and have her hair curled, 
 nor could she endure French maids. In the 
 country all was congenial. Nature's sights and 
 sounds were an untold delight to her child-heart. 
 She loved to wade in the brook, feed the chick-
 
 2O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 ens, when Mrs. Walker was in a good humor, 
 and to go with Bridget to the lot where Cather 
 ine milked the cows. A draught of the warm, 
 sweet milk was far more delicious to her uncul 
 tivated palate than the wine at her father's 
 table, just because it was never so warm and 
 sweet in New York. Bridget had not been 
 long in Mrs. Wallace's service, and Meta had 
 gone through divers rough hands before she 
 became the charge of the good Irishwoman. 
 So, by very force of contrast, a warm friendship 
 had sprung up between them at once; and the 
 summer at Bellevue, of which we write, brought 
 with it many pleasures, notwithstanding Meta's 
 occasional disgrace.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 S it you, darlint ? " asked Bridget's 
 cheery voice, as Meta opened the 
 laundry door. 
 
 " Yes, and I have come to have a nice talk 
 with you," she answered, approaching the table 
 where Bridget's muslin ruffles were assuming 
 elegant shapes in her deft ringers. Resting 
 her round face on her hands, the child looked 
 on earnestly and admiringly at the progress of 
 Bridget's work, and plied so many questions, 
 on various subjects, that the busy woman found 
 it hard to answer. 
 
 "Nay, Meta, be quiet against I finish the 
 dress," she remonstrated, "and then we'll go for 
 a look at the cows while Catherine milks." 
 
 Meta with difficulty ceased talking, but her 
 patience was not long tried. Bridget's swift 
 
 (21)
 
 22 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 hands had soon finished the ironing, and the 
 two were at liberty to seek the favorite resort 
 the lot where Catherine reigned over the 
 milk-pail. 
 
 As they took the little worn path across the 
 fields, Meta's tongue went as busily as ever. 
 
 " Isn't it funny, Bridget, that you played with 
 make-believe people, just like me ?" 
 
 " Yes, Meta, I was a queer body of a child, 
 and my mother had no bairn then but me- 
 Johnny is ten years younger nor I ; and when 
 he was a baby yet, I was helpin' in the cottage, 
 and not thinking of dolls nor fairies." 
 
 " Fairies, Bridget ? Why, mamma says there 
 are no such people, and all those stories are un 
 true!" 
 
 " So they be, so they be, darlint ! Only in 
 the auld counthry the folks say that once in the 
 world the fairies did live, and their pots of stone 
 could be found on the beach by the sea." 
 
 " But they couldn't, could they, Bridget ? " 
 
 " Nay, Meta, I fear me not ! Many's the day 
 I loitered with my basket of peat to look for a 
 fairy pot, but I never found one. I used to 
 wish they did live, when Johnny's back was 
 so bad, and the doctors had no comfort for my 
 mother." 
 
 The girl, overcome by recollections of home, 
 was crying again, softly.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 Meta, forgetting that she had come out to see 
 the cows, suddenly pulled Bridget down on a 
 large flat stone in their path, and sat down at 
 her feet, looking up in the tearful face. 
 
 " Tell me all about it, now," she said, taking 
 the rough hand in hers; "and don't cry, Bridget, 
 or I will cry, too." 
 
 There was a quiver about the lips as she 
 ceased, and the woman, observing it, told her 
 story without further urging, after laying the 
 curly head in her lap, and tenderly smoothing 
 the child's brow. It was a very old story of 
 sickness and poverty, but it was new to the 
 wondering listener. Reared in luxury, she 
 knew nothing of the countless number of hu 
 man beings who perish for lack of the food and 
 raiment she had received as a matter of course. 
 Bridget had come from the North of Ireland, 
 where her father had received as his birthright 
 the legacy of Protestant faith, and poverty. He 
 had been a day-laborer in a flourishing mill, 
 and, by great industry and economy, had man 
 aged to support his family in their frugal wants ; 
 but a fatal day came, when a misstep, a loss of 
 balance, a sudden blurring, blinding mist before 
 his eyes, and he was caught in the machinery. 
 A poor, mangled, lifeless mass was all that re 
 mained of humanity when assistance reached 
 him.
 
 24 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 The feeble, invalid wife never recovered the 
 shock, and in a few months Bridget was sole 
 guardian of Johnny the young brother, de 
 formed and suffering from his birth. There 
 were many sympathizing hearts and ready 
 hands among their poor neighbors, but the 
 struggle for subsistence was too great for them 
 to give vent to the generous promptings that 
 filled those humble hearts. The only relative 
 of the orphans was an uncle, rather well-to-do, 
 in America, who offered to support Johnny, and 
 help find employment for his niece, if they 
 would try the New World ; and so, despite their 
 heavy grief, Bridget, looking upon America as 
 the land of promise and of rest, was buoyed up 
 with hope, and left her old home to seek her 
 fortune across the water. For six years all 
 went well. She made kind friends in the West, 
 where she left Johnny on his uncle's farm, and 
 still kinder friends in New York, where she 
 worked for herself. But during the spring of 
 that year her troubles began. The uncle died 
 suddenly, leaving his large family very much 
 straitened; and Bridget's pride rebelled against 
 leaving her invalid brother a burden on the 
 widow. Just before entering Mrs. Wallace's 
 service she had succeeded in exciting the inter 
 est of a benevolent physician, in whose family
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2$ 
 
 she had once lived, in Johnny's case ; and 
 through his kindness and liberality secured a 
 place for the boy in one of the city hospitals, 
 where he had been comfortably installed just 
 before she had moved to Bellevue for the sum 
 mer. The poor woman had begun her story in 
 a voice choked with sobs, but by degrees she 
 had grown calmer; and when she reached the 
 recital of Johnny's life in the hospital, she even 
 smiled. 
 
 "O darlint!" she cried, earnestly, "he is such 
 a lovely child ! The poor body is often turning 
 and writhing with pain, but the big blue eyes 
 shine like stars when I go to see him, and he 
 smiles so peaceful like, and tells me he's learn 
 ing how." 
 
 " Learning how ? Why, what can he mean 
 by that?" 
 
 " Oh, then, I must tell you in his own beauti 
 ful words, Meta. He says he has the loveliest 
 dreams about angels, and crowns, and shining 
 white robes, and that he's learning the way to 
 that far-off country where he will throw away 
 his vile body to be washed clean in the blood of 
 the Lamb." 
 
 " What can he mean ? " asked Mcta, in an 
 awed voice; "does he. mean he is going to 
 heaven ? "
 
 26 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " He means he is learning the way," replied 
 the sister, with happy confidence. "He says 
 when the pains take him he thinks of the 
 blessed Lord that suffered for him, and he prays 
 for strength not to get tired with the bearing it. 
 When we go back to New York, I will ask your 
 mamma to let you go with me to the hospital. 
 Sure, it's a sight to see ; the poor wasted body, 
 and the great soul of him looking out at the 
 eyes." 
 
 "What's the matter with him that makes his 
 body so funny, Bridget ? " 
 
 "The spine, Meta; all crooked, and full of 
 pain " 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me about him long ago ? 
 He might have had my oranges and cakes, you 
 know ; and I could have gone with you ever so 
 often" 
 
 "I fear me your mamma will not like it, now," 
 said Bridget, doubtfully ; "and you remember, in 
 the city, darlint, you was always with the 
 Frenchwoman ; and then Johnny only came 
 before we left, a pace." 
 
 "Mamma is not-going to care a bit; I'll ask 
 her. I went to all sorts of places with Rosalie, 
 and she never said a word about it. But, 
 Bridget, who told your brother to be so good ? " 
 
 "Arrah, don't be asking such-like questions,
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2J 
 
 Meta. Wasn't it my blessed uncle and his poor 
 widow as helped him to find comfort ? And 
 then there's good Mrs. Hale, as acts a mother's 
 part by my poor boy. She is the nurse that 
 belongs to his ward ; and a good Christian 
 woman she is, God bless the likes of her in 
 the land!" 
 
 " Did she beg him not to cry when his back 
 ached, and talk to him about the white robes, 
 and the angels ? " 
 
 "Well! and we'll say she did; but it was 
 God's spirit working in her. And praise God 
 do I, on my bended knees, each night, for rais 
 ing up a motherly friend for my Johnny. Ah, 
 I doubt not her counsels is good." 
 
 "But then, you see, Bridget, telling people to 
 bear pain, and not cry, don't make them do it. 
 When I had the measles I wasn't much sick, 
 but I cried a good deal ; you see, I felt so cross, 
 and Rosalie was so mean. Mamma said I was 
 a fretful, naughty child. Did Johnny ever have 
 the measles ? or is that pain in the back not 
 such a cross one ? " 
 
 " Bless me, child, it's a deal worse ! Just sup 
 pose you could never run about, or even sit up, 
 some days, and your shoulders all crooked " 
 
 "Bridget, darling," interrupted a frightened 
 voice, " couldn't you tell me the way ? / want
 
 28 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 to be good, like Johnny, but I don't know how. 
 Couldn't 7 dream about angels and crowns, too, 
 if I tried?" 
 
 " Nay, Meta ; if you want to be like my 
 Johnny, you must never do anything wrong " 
 
 " But how can I, if I don't know how?" 
 
 " Oh, it's try you must ! Never do you fly in 
 a passion with Mrs. Walker, as a beginning, 
 darlint ; and when we go to New York, sure 
 it's ask Johnny we will, and I doubt but he'll 
 tell you better nor me. But let's be 'off to 
 the house. Catherine is home by this, and 
 we'll come in for a wee bit scolding if we are 
 late for tea." 
 
 Meta had no time for further questioning, as 
 the faint tinkling of a far-off bell warned Bridget 
 that Mrs. Walker was awaiting them ; so she 
 hurried her steps to keep up with the nurse. 
 There was a newly-learned gravity on the child 
 ish face as they walked to the house, and she 
 was very silent. She was thinking of the poor, 
 helpless boy, and his dreams about angels ; and, 
 instinctively, her eyes turned to the little, 
 twinkling summer stars coming out in the sky. 
 Wondering thoughts of heaven, and the little 
 brothers and sister she had seen in death, came 
 through her mind. She had been told, in an 
 swer to her eager questions, that the little ones
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2Q 
 
 were in heaven ; but heaven seemed far off, 
 and filled her with awe and fear. Now a new 
 phase of spiritual life was presented to her, and 
 she learned, for the first time, that the better 
 land, about which her ideas were so vague and 
 uncomfortable, was really a home to be yearned 
 for a hope of entering its joys sufficient to 
 soothe the pains of mortality. 
 
 Surely God's Holy Spirit was watching ten 
 derly over her young soul, fostering the feeble 
 germ of new life, that brought so deep a yearn 
 ing for the knowledge of good and evil that 
 would enable her to guide her steps to the gates 
 of the Golden City. She pondered Bridget's 
 story in her heart, with an intense desire to be 
 good enough to be folded in the loving arms of 
 the Saviour, whose tenderness for little children 
 had only been imperfectly understood. It did 
 not seem strange to Meta that men and women 
 should be good and brave; that, she thought, 
 came with grovtth and years. But that a mere 
 boy should be taught, in sickness and pain, so 
 to stifle his natural weakness as to find comfort 
 in affliction, was a question of deep and myste 
 rious significance to her mind. Shadows of her 
 future struggles with self may have drifted 
 across her child-life when she found her rebell 
 ious spirit so difficult to quell, but this was all.
 
 3O At ETA WALLACE. 
 
 The fact that she must die was one seldom pre 
 sented for her thoughts. She had never been 
 told that the rich man's wealth " cometh up like 
 a flower, and is cut down," nor that human life 
 " fleeth as a shadow, and continueth not." Her 
 tender conscience, with its impulse to good and 
 its warfare with evil, was left without guidance 
 from those who should have helped the waver 
 ing desires ; yet Meta was not alone. There is 
 One who leaveth the ninety-nine in the wilder 
 ness to seek the one lost sheep ; who numbers 
 the very hairs of our heads ; and, when father 
 and mother forsake, takes us under the shadow 
 of his wing. And though this promise is sel 
 dom realized, inasmuch as parental love more 
 often maketh idols of its own, yet there are 
 times when the soul starves, while the body is 
 delicately nurtured ; and then it is that there is 
 stretched forth to shield us from destruction 
 that Hand, "mighty to save" the vessels ap 
 pointed . unto honor. Meta had one Friend 
 whose power held the universe in the hollow of 
 his hand. Surely she was not left comfort 
 less.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HE day following her walk with Bridget 
 was one of great perplexity to Meta. 
 Very disagreeable visions of that paper 
 torn in half and thrust into the empty pigeon 
 hole of her father's desk flitted through her 
 brain. She was not used to take her mischiev 
 ous escapades so seriously to heart ; but John 
 ny's wonderful story had set her to thinking, 
 and had aroused fears of her last piece of 
 naughtiness, which she had forgotten in the 
 excitement of her walk. After a few hours' un 
 comfortable reflection, she resolved upon taking 
 a second look at the paper, to see if there was 
 any reason why she should be so worried about 
 the matter. It had always been a sure cause of 
 punishment for the children to go into the 
 library at all, and Meta's state of mind was not 
 
 (30
 
 32 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 improved by the reflection that she was com 
 mitting still another fault by entering the for 
 bidden apartment again ; but her anxiety gave 
 her little time for thought, and it was with 
 something like desperation that she took the 
 library key from the basket when chance put 
 it in her way. Mrs. Walker was out-of-doors 
 somewhere, Bridget busy up-stairs, and there 
 was no one to interfere with her movements; 
 yet Meta felt very guilty as she ran along the 
 passage, noiselessly opened the door as quickly 
 as trembling fingers would admit, and was soon 
 inside, with the door securely locked. Once 
 safely in the dim-lighted room, she drew a sigh 
 of relief, and hastily scrambled upon the desk, 
 rummaged in the pigeon-hole for the scraps, and 
 drew forth the torn paper. It had lain in a pool 
 of ink, and was so blotted and blurred that, 
 even after piecing it, Meta found it unintelligi 
 ble, except a name at the bottom, " Joseph 
 Ascher." Still gazing at the blots, in perplex 
 ity, she was roused by a sudden and violent 
 knocking at the door, as Mrs. Walker's voice 
 reached her guilty ears, in angry orders to let 
 her in at once. Meta had entirely forgotten a 
 window opening on the piazza, at which Mrs. 
 Walker had been standing, and had witnessed 
 her entire proceedings in the library. Not
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 33 
 
 daring to disobey the housekeeper's command, 
 yet not being entirely satisfied that it was best 
 to confess, Meta rolled the torn paper in as 
 small a compass as possible ; and, thrusting it 
 into her mouth, took courage to unlock the door, 
 with a sinking heart. Mrs. Walker viewed the 
 culprit angrily. 
 
 "This comes of not punishing you yester 
 day," she said, severely. "Now tell me just 
 what you have been doing at that desk, and 
 don't think to put me off with any nonsense 
 about your Kittys, and foolishness. Out with 
 it, miss." 
 
 But Meta did not indeed she could not 
 answer. Her mouth was so stuffed with paper 
 that a reply would have been impossible with 
 out betraying herself ; and she resolutely shut 
 her teeth firmly on the piece, and kept silent, 
 thereby adding to Mrs. Walker's wrath. 
 
 "Obstinate thing!" she said, angrily, catching 
 the child's chin in no tender hand; "tell me, 
 this instant, or I'll put you in the garret for the 
 rest of this blessed day." 
 
 Meta inwardly winced, but she gave no sign 
 of being moved ; and even when Bridget was 
 summoned to exorcise the dumb spirit, she met 
 the sad, reproachful eyes of her favorite without 
 quailing. Mrs. Walker having tried her powers
 
 34 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 of restoring the gift of speech, and the nurse 
 her utmost persuasions, Meta was unceremoni 
 ously lifted in the Irishwoman's sturdy arms, 
 and carried to the housekeeper's room as a 
 hopeless case for the present. As the good- 
 natured woman went down the passage with 
 her burden, a peculiar sound in Meta's throat 
 arrested her steps. 
 
 " It's choking she is, I believe, ma'am." 
 
 But no, Meta was not choking. She was 
 chewing, with all the sharpness of her young 
 teeth, on the thin paper, now reduced to a pulpy 
 mass ; and when Mrs. Walker's room was 
 reached, she had resolved an end to her di 
 lemma by swallowing the whole. 
 
 " You've got something in your mouth, you 
 naughty girl ! " cried the puzzled housekeeper. 
 
 Meta shook her head resolutely, but Bridget 
 looked sorrowfully incredulous. 
 
 " Oh," thought Meta, beginning to cry, " she 
 doesn't know I swallowed it ! This isn't being 
 a bit like Johnny, and Bridget thinks I've told 
 a story." 
 
 Bridget, observing the tears in her favorite's 
 eyes, braved Mrs. Walker's anger, and drew the 
 sunny head, " running over with curls," to her 
 breast, while the housekeeper, thoroughly tired 
 of the child's obstinate temper, left the room in 
 disgust.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 35 
 
 " You think I told Walker a story, I know 
 you do," cried Meta, anxiously. 
 
 Bridget nodded her head sadly. 
 
 "Indeed, indeed, I didn't!" sobbed the child, 
 brokenly. " I did have something in my mouth, 
 but when she asked me I had swallowed it. 
 O do, please, believe me ! " 
 
 " Swallowed it ? Is it daft ye are, child ? " 
 
 " No, I am not daft," sobbing violently ; " I 
 was so frightened, and Walker looked so cross ! 
 Oh, what shall I do ? Johnny will never love 
 poor me." 
 
 Leaning back in the nurse's arms, Meta in 
 dulged in an hysterical passion of tears ; but 
 though Bridget tried argument and entreaty, 
 she could not be prevailed on to tell what it 
 was she had swallowed, nor why she was so 
 frightened. 
 
 Meta's heart was so wholly undisciplined that 
 she fancied, by destroying all trace of her acci 
 dental piece of careless mischief, she would rem 
 edy the mischief itself ; but her reasoning was 
 very shallow no right thing can comq of two 
 wrongs.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 RS. WALKER'S resolution to force 
 a confession of the mysterious naughti 
 ness from Meta was never carried into 
 effect. The day after the scene, while her 
 charge was still in disgrace, a letter was re 
 ceived from Mrs. Wallace, announcing their 
 return within a few days, and containing direc 
 tions for the Bellevue household to hold them 
 selves in readiness to return to the city as soon 
 as possible after the arrival of the party from 
 Long Branch. In the bustle that ensued, all 
 thought of present punishment was lost sight 
 of, and Meta was released from custody in the 
 housekeeper's room, as both Mrs. Walker and 
 Bridget were extremely busy. 
 
 A few days after Mrs. Wallace's letter, the 
 travelers returned. When the carriage drew 
 (36)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 37 
 
 up before the door, Meta rushed out to greet 
 her mamma with her usual impetuosity ; but 
 Mrs. Wallace was tired and fretful, having lost 
 a package on the cars, through her maid's care 
 lessness; and her little daughter's vehement em 
 braces were not very cordially received. 
 
 "You are as wild as a gypsy," said the mother, 
 fretfully, as she kissed her rosy cheek; "and 
 just as brown as a berry, I declare ! There, 
 child, don't tumble my dress out of all shape! 
 Run along with Florry, and try to curb your 
 wild spirits. I protest, Mr. Wallace," turning 
 to her husband, " this child has the most unac 
 countably plebeian manners. I shall have to 
 turn her over to Fe"licie, when we get back to 
 the city. I can't conceive from whom she in 
 herits her lack of style certainly not from 
 me !" 
 
 " Humph ! " said Mr. Wallace. He seldom 
 said more on such occasions. 
 
 " How do you do, Felicie ? " said Meta, turn 
 ing off, subdued out of her warmth, and address 
 ing the French maid, who condescendingly held 
 out her hand. The child was abashed and crest 
 fallen ; but the sight of Florry, emerging from 
 a pile of shawls, satchels, and books on the 
 carriage-seat, made her forget her mamma's 
 rebukes. There was no thought of "style"
 
 38 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 as she rushed at her sister, and bestowed on 
 that elegant young creature a profound hug of 
 delight. 
 
 Florry was indeed a lovely sight as she extri 
 cated herself and her flounces from Meta's 
 arms. Her cheeks, slightly flushed from trav 
 eling, and her beautiful eyes, lighted up with 
 something like pleasure at the prospect of tell 
 ing the wonders of her summer tour to a little 
 ignoramus, made the usually too languid face 
 very bewitching. She was not guilty of unfash 
 ionable emotion as she held out the tips of her 
 fingers to be assisted up the steps by the eager 
 little sister. Florry was fully alive to the dig 
 nity of having been to several summer resorts, 
 while Meta had spent her time with the cows 
 and poultry of Bellevue ; yet she was glad, after 
 all, to be at home ; for, though Mrs. Wallace 
 took little notice of the fact, her beautiful 
 daughter was not over-strong, and the exquis 
 ite coloring of her pretty cheek boded no good. 
 Riding in the cars always tired Florry ; and 
 running, like other children of her age, made 
 her short-breathed ; yet the delicate frame was 
 seldom allowed to rest. 
 
 " Oh, you darling old Florry ! " cried Meta, im 
 pulsively ; " you are beautifuller than ever ! " 
 
 Florence smiled complacently, and comic
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 39 
 
 scended to dismount from the very " high 
 horse " she was riding. Bellevue was noth 
 ing but* home and " country," and there was 
 no necessity of being civilly cool to Meta, for 
 she did not comprehend such airs. Besides, 
 Florry dearly loved to talk ; and unless she ac 
 cepted her sister as auditor of the wonders she 
 had seen, she must needs exercise great self- 
 control, and keep her news for the city girls. 
 To keep silence was a physical impossibility to 
 Florence at all times ; and besides, Meta's famil 
 iarity was infectious and irresistible ; so the two 
 girls were soon sitting at the nursery fire, chat 
 ting very merrily, while Bridget busied herself 
 in putting aside Florry's wrappings, under that 
 young lady's directions. 
 
 " Well, Meta," said Florry, after a pause, pat 
 ting her sister's curly head, patronizingly, " there 
 isn't a particle of use in trying to tell you all 
 the delightful things I saw, for you couldn't be 
 gin to understand " 
 
 "Oh, just try me, Florry, dear; I think I 
 could, if you would only try me ! " 
 
 " The idea of your knowing anything about 
 tableaux vivants /" said Florry, giving the pro 
 nunciation of her mamma's maid. 
 
 " I dorit know exactly what they mean," 
 sighed Meta, dubiously ; " but I know I could
 
 4O META WALLACE, OR 
 
 understand if you would only try me, dear old 
 Florry. Is it a dress, or some kind of candy, 
 sister?" 
 
 " Much good it does you to learn French," 
 said Florence, contemptuously ; " why, you little 
 goose, it's just like the theater, only you never 
 went there." 
 
 "Just spell it, Florry; you know I can't pro 
 nounce like you do," pleaded Meta. 
 
 And so Florry spelled the word, loftily, and 
 her little sister said " Oh ! " in a relieved voice; 
 and the difficult matter being satisfactorily set 
 tled, the description of the wonderful tableaux 
 went on. 
 
 " Just think, child, of my standing for five 
 whole minutes on one foot; and I didn't move 
 a muscle, either," cried Florence, triumphantly. 
 
 " It must have been awfully tiresome," said 
 the practical Meta, drawing a long breath. 
 
 " So it was ; but that was the beauty of it, 
 you see. I heard Mrs. Clarendon tell mamma 
 that. I showed great presence of mind when one 
 of the candles fell at my feet, and I did not 
 stir." 
 
 " Presence of mind ?" asked Bridget, who had 
 been listening ; " sure, then, I think it showed 
 the absence of it, my deary, for you to stand on 
 one le to be stared at like that."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 41 
 
 " I wonder what you know about tableaux ! 
 said Florry, scornfully. 
 
 " Oh, plenty, plenty," cried Bridget, tossing 
 her head. 
 
 Florence was no favorite of hers ; and, being 
 always pert to the servants, often exposed her 
 self to the ready Irish wit, which she found it 
 hard to match. But Meta was too eager to 
 hear more to surfer the dispute to go on ; and 
 she successfully interfered, drawing out all 
 Florry had to relate, and spending such a de 
 lightful evening that she gave no thought to 
 the fact of her recent disgrace and trouble. 
 
 The few days of their stay at Bellevue passed 
 very swiftly. Florence was extremely agreea 
 ble, and even took pleasure in Meta's country 
 walks ; though she refused to take a farewell 
 view of the cows, and Meta was forced to make 
 her adieux with Bridget. Mrs. Walker was too 
 much engaged to report the little girl's naughti 
 ness, and Mrs. Wallace was so unusually genial 
 and affectionate that her charge never gave the 
 matter a thought. Mrs. Wallace, finding the 
 supposed missing package was among the nu 
 merous wraps, and had been only left at the 
 station, recovered her good humor, and talked 
 over with Florry the many pleasant scenes of 
 the past summer, much to the delight of the
 
 4 2 META WALLACE, OK 
 
 little one who had been left to Mrs. Walker's 
 - tender mercies so long. It was scarcely a won 
 der that, under such circumstances, her yearn 
 ings to learn Johnny's secret of happiness, and 
 the undefined desires to be good, should have 
 faded into the background. I doubt if poor 
 Meta would have thought about Johnny at all, 
 during those few days, but for a desire to show 
 Florry that, if she had been at home all sum 
 mer, she had something more wonderful than 
 even tableaux to talk about. But she did not 
 find the subject very interesting to her sister 
 when she broached it on the cars. 
 
 "Angels, and crooked backs, and small-pox 
 hospitals, indeed!" cried Florry, elevating her 
 nose. "Do you really flatter yourself mamma 
 is ever going to let you cultivate all the paupers 
 in town ? " 
 
 "But, Florry, he knows a heap more than 
 either of us, and he is so good. Then you 
 know, sis, he is Bridget's brother; and I believe 
 he could tell you about all sorts of beautiful 
 things you never saw. Do you hear what I 
 say ? " 
 
 Meta was screaming it out in order that 
 Florry's ears might be reached above the din 
 of the cars; and as the train reached a station 
 before her sentence was concluded, she was
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 43 
 
 considerably abashed to hear her own voice 
 raised to such a pitch, and to observe the smil 
 ing faces of those in her vicinity, who had been 
 amused at her earnestness. 
 
 " See what you've done, now," said Florry, 
 contemptuously; while her mamma, with an 
 aristocratic horror of seeing anything belonging 
 to her the subject of jest, called Meta over to 
 Bridget's seat, and so the discussion ended.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SHORT time after 
 comfortably settled 
 street, Meta rushed 
 
 the family were 
 in Thirty-fifth 
 into her moth 
 
 er's dressing-room, one sunny afternoon, in a 
 state of intense excitement. Mrs. Wallace and 
 Florry were dressed for a ride in the Park, and 
 were only awaiting a few last touches from Fe- 
 licie to start. 
 
 " Mamma, mamma, may I go with Bridget to 
 see Johnny ? " was the child's eager greeting ; 
 " she says she has time, and we will be sure to 
 get back for tea in Mrs. Walker's room. Oh, 
 do say yes ! " 
 
 The bright, earnest face, glowing with an 
 ticipated pleasure, smote the mother's heart 
 strangely ; and she made room for the child on 
 her lounge, looking kindly into her beaming 
 
 (44)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 45 
 
 eyes, and smoothing the rings of shining hair 
 on the white brow. 
 
 "And who is Johnny, first, my little girl," she 
 asked, with interest. 
 
 " Only Bridget's little sick brother," she an 
 swered, eagerly ; " a poor little boy, that can't 
 straighten his back, and dreams about angels, 
 and never cries " 
 
 " Not so fast, Meta. Tell me first where 
 your paragon lives, before you describe his per 
 fections. Not in a dirty alley, I hope, where 
 you'll go and catch some dreadful disease?" 
 
 " Why, no, mamma ; it's in a nice, clean hos 
 pital, where a good nurse takes care of him; 
 and Bridget says " 
 
 "Bridget has no business to be filling your 
 head with such ideas. Don't you know that 
 people have small-pox, and cholera, and all sorts 
 of things in those nice, clean hospitals ? " 
 
 " You see, Meta," interposed Florry, be 
 nignly, as she fastened her glove, " I told you 
 mamma would object. Fancy Bridget's brother, 
 mamma, knowing the most wonderful things 
 about angels, and teaching people to get 
 straight to heaven. Wasn't that what you 
 said, Meta? Or was it only crooked backs " 
 
 Florry had not been so cruel since her re 
 turn; and Meta, disappointed and angry, burst 
 into tears in the midst of her sister's sentence.
 
 46 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Go and tell Bridget I wish to speak to her, 
 Fe"licie," said Mrs. Wallace, rather provoked 
 with both of the girls. " Dry your eyes, Meta, 
 and try not to be such a baby. And do you, 
 Florence, recollect that your sister is not to be 
 maliciously teased." 
 
 Florry looked up in amazement, saying, 
 " Really, mamma ! " with the air of an empress ; 
 and Meta actually ceased crying, to seek in her 
 mother's face some explanation of her unwonted 
 judgment against the spoiled darling of the 
 house. But Mrs. Wallace was gazing absently 
 at the fire, and said nothing more, nor was 
 there anything to be read in her abstracted 
 countenance ; yet the mother was thinking, 
 more moved than she cared to admit to her 
 self, by an indescribable reproach she had fan 
 cied in her child's earnest face. 
 
 Bridget's entrance roused the party. Mrs. 
 Wallace diligently cross-questioned the nurse, 
 but found nothing reprehensible in the simple 
 story of sickness and want that was told in a 
 few words. After a moment's reflection she 
 gave the permission that Meta longed to hear, 
 and, merely cautioning Bridget not to instruct 
 the little girl in Methodistical views, she dis 
 missed them. 
 
 " Remember that I shall hold you accounta-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 47 
 
 ble for any further eccentricity in Meta," she 
 said, severely ; " the child is puzzling enough 
 now, and I don't wish her peculiarities fostered. 
 And now go. Take this money," slipping in 
 Bridget's hand two pieces of silver, " and buy 
 some oranges and candy for the sick boy. I 
 dare say he will enjoy them." 
 
 Meta and Bridget poured forth rapturous 
 thanks as they left the dressing-room, and, after 
 a hasty toilet, hurried to a favorite confection 
 er's, where the dollar was soon laid out in a 
 tempting parcel of fruit and sweets. Bridget 
 was more tender than wise. 
 
 On the way down the avenue Meta stopped 
 to listen to the strains of a hand-organ, whose 
 owner was grinding away at the instrument, 
 casting appealing looks at the passers-by ; but 
 no one gave heed to his music. A miserable 
 little girl, holding out a tambourine in a pair of 
 very dirty hands, and a queer little monkey, 
 winking his eyes, and hopping about in a red- 
 flannel suit, completed the scene. 
 
 Bridget would have instantly hailed a street 
 car, for she distrusted all " Italianers," as she 
 called them, and had often paid the organ men 
 to remove their cracked instruments from MrsP 
 Wallace's door; but Meta was struck with the 
 poor little face, so old beyond its years, and
 
 48 META WALLACE, OK 
 
 looked pityingly at the bare feet and scanty 
 covering. 
 
 " Please, dear Bridget, stop one minute ! Let 
 me see if I haven't a penny ! " And she hastily 
 stuck her fat, gloved hand in the pretty white 
 muff. But, no, the silver porte-monnaie was at 
 home ; and her face grew very long. 
 
 " Oh," she said, sighing dolefully, " what shall 
 I -do ? My money is every bit at home." 
 
 " Do ? Why, come along with me to see 
 Johnny. We've missed two cars already, along 
 of standing here with them dirty Italianers. 
 Don't I know them all ? Besides, your purse 
 isn't so very full. Don't you know you spent 
 all this month's allowance for the big doll at 
 Agneau's ? " 
 
 Bridget was impatient at delay, and was not 
 disposed to assist Meta's benevolence. 
 
 " No, Bridget," said the child, slowly, " I 
 haven't bought the doll yet, though I did want 
 to ever so much. It is mighty pretty " 
 
 " Please, little lady, just a penny," interrupted 
 the tambourine girl, comprehending the scene ; 
 " just a penny for my little sick brother." 
 
 The words " sick brother " softened Bridget's 
 heart. 
 
 " I haven't any change with me," she said, re 
 gretfully, after giving the girl a keen look of 
 scrutiny; "I wish I had "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 49 
 
 " Come to-morrow to No. East Thirty-fifth 
 street," said Meta, glibly, as she seized an 
 orange from the bundle she carried, and threw 
 it into the tambourine ; " I've got a lot of six 
 pences in my purse " 
 
 Here Bridget broke up the parley by vigor 
 ously shaking her parasol at a passing car 
 driver, and hurried the child away. She did 
 not say anything for some time after they were 
 seated in the car, and Meta looked up timidly in 
 her face. 
 
 " You're not mad, dear old Bridget ? " 
 
 "No; only uneasy-like in my mind. What 
 will your mamma say to the likes of this ?" 
 
 " Why, the money is mine, and mamma gives 
 it to me to do with just as I please. I do 
 want to give that poor little girl some of it, 
 Bridget. Did you see her bare feet and ragged 
 dress?" 
 
 " But what becomes of the big doll ? " 
 
 " Oh, I can do without ' it this month," said 
 Meta, with a steady voice, though her counte 
 nance fell. She had taken a daily walk to Ag- 
 neau's ever since their return to town, in order 
 to feast her eyes on the wonderful young lady ; 
 for though she protested she was tired of such 
 playthings, she constantly added to her stock, 
 and possessed a large number of dolls, of divers 
 4
 
 5O MET A WALLACE. 
 
 shapes and sizes, in various stages of mutila 
 tion. 
 
 "Oh, if that's where you are," laughed 
 Bridget, "if you really can do without your 
 big baby, why, I don't suppose your mamma 
 cares. But we'll see what we will see." 
 
 Now this was a favorite expression of Bridg 
 et's, and one with which she always managed to 
 convey a sarcasm. Meta particularly objected 
 to having it applied to her, and was therefore 
 silent for the rest of the ride; especially so, 
 when on reflection she began to suspect that 
 her porte-monnaie was not so full as she sup 
 posed. An indistinct vision of treating Florry 
 to a charlotte russe just the day before, came 
 before her mind as she mentally counted her 
 money, and it was a very sober little face that 
 looked out from the stylish bonnet as they got 
 out of the cars.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HE hospital was a large, handsome 
 building, very pleasant and clean. 
 Meta followed Bridget up the long 
 flights of stairs, through narrow passages, to 
 the' pleasant chamber of good Mrs. Hale, where 
 Johnny generally sat in his invalid chair, when 
 not too feeble to be moved. The boy looked so 
 bright and happy, as he read by the cheerful 
 fire, that Meta could not believe he was sick, 
 until she saw how thin and transparent was the 
 hand laid in her chubby fingers when Bridget 
 presented her to Johnny. The brother and sis 
 ter laughed and chatted eagerly, and opened the 
 bundles of good things; but Meta could not 
 talk. The scene .was altogether a puzzle to her ; 
 it was strange, she thought, to see a boy who 
 dreamed about angels, and knew the way to 
 
 (50
 
 52 META WALbACE, OR 
 
 heaven, eating candy and oranges with great 
 apparent relish, and talking gayly of every-day 
 things. She had expected to find a very grave, 
 sad personage in Johnny ; and his smiling face 
 overthrew all her ideas of one who was not 
 afraid to die, nor to surfer. Her silence was so 
 unusual, and her expression so puzzled, that 
 Bridget wisely concluded to leave her to make 
 Johnny's acquaintance alone. 
 
 Johnny held out his hand, and smiled, as 
 Bridget closed the door. 
 
 " Stay here a bit," she said, rising to leave 
 the room ; " I have a word to say to Mrs. Hale, 
 and the afternoon is waning. Do you, Johnny, 
 tell the bairn all about your feelin's. It's trying 
 to be good she is." 
 
 " Come, you, and tell the sick boy about your 
 nice country home," he said, kindly ; " Bridget 
 says it's a rare, sweet place." 
 
 Meta was shy, and held back for a while; 
 but she could not resist Johnny's cheerful, so 
 ciable manners, and it was not many minutes 
 before she was giving an animated account of 
 Bellevue. In enthusiastic tones she described 
 the ducks and cows, the little purling streams, 
 and the spring at the foot of a hill, where she 
 and Bridget had spent so many happy after 
 noons, and where she had waded. in among the 
 shining pebbles in her bare feet.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 53 
 
 " The water was so cool and so clear that you 
 could see my feet through. They looked very 
 funny and broad. Do you like the country, 
 Johnny ? " 
 
 " I lived in it in the auld country," he sighed ; 
 "only my home was by the great sea, Meta, 
 where I could hear the waves moaning and 
 splashing on the shore. There were beautiful 
 shells and sea-weed that my mother gave me for 
 playthings, and I had my flowers, and a bonny 
 bird. But I never went in the brooks, for I was 
 always sick, and lay on my little cot by the win 
 dow ail day." 
 
 "Poor Johnny! I feel very sorry for you, in 
 deed I do ! " cried Meta, laying her dimpled 
 hand on his poor, thin fingers. 
 
 " Yes," said Johnny, " I used to think it was 
 hard-like for me never to run about like other 
 childer, and fly my kites with the rest ; but I 
 see now how blessed I am in my helpless way, 
 and I don't desire to be changed." 
 
 " Did you ever cry, Johnny, when you had so 
 much pain ? " 
 
 " Ah, that did I ! When my back was so bad, 
 and it was all so weak with me, indade I spent 
 many a day fretting and crying. But now I 
 think of the man with the withered hand, and 
 comfort me with the hope of a new, whole body,
 
 54 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 that will wash in the crystal waters. Did you 
 ever hear of Bethesda, deary ? " 
 
 Meta shook her head. 
 
 " I suppose I must, if it's in the Bible ; but I 
 forget those big names. It's very wicked, isn't 
 it ? " she asked, anxiously. 
 
 " Nay, not wicked," answered the boy, smiling 
 at her earnestness ; " it hasn't been brought 
 home to you, like, I suppose." 
 
 Meta nodded. 
 
 " Ah, well, you see, it's trouble makes us look 
 out the promises. You have no need to b<* 
 readin* about the helpless and maimed, who 
 were made ' every whit whole.' The dear Lord 
 said something about ' they that be whole need 
 not a physician.' Do ye see my meaning ? 
 But stop, I'll read to you." 
 
 Stretching out his hand, he took a small 
 Bible off the table near, and opened its worn 
 pages. Not that text, only, but one after an 
 other that had brought him so much comfort, as 
 they most applied to his own case, were read 
 eagerly to the absorbed listener, who sat with 
 her face resting in her hands, gazing wistfully 
 in Johnny's glowing countenance, though she 
 only imperfectly understood it all. 
 
 " Do you see, they. are every one made whole ? 
 The halt, the blind, the lepers, all cleansed >
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 55 
 
 But wait till I read ye the best of all my texts;" 
 and, turning to i Cor. xv, the boy read to his 
 astonished little friend the glorious promises of 
 the resurrection. 
 
 " Oh, I am Waiting," he cried, clasping his 
 hands in an ecstasy of fervor, " waiting for the 
 mortal to put on immortality, when death shall 
 be swallowed up in victory ! " The boy sank 
 back in his chair, exhausted, carried out of his 
 feeble body by the strength of those longings 
 that had enabled him so safely to walk through 
 the " dark valley " in which he would be only 
 waiting in faith a little while. Meta, awe-struck 
 and subdued, could not express in words all the 
 sympathy she felt for her new friend, and they 
 were both silent. 
 
 When Bridget returned she found her little 
 friend sitting soberly near Johnny, tears hang 
 ing heavily on the dark lashes, and the mouth 
 quivering with the grief she was too shy to 
 show. Mrs. Hale patted the round cheek af 
 fectionately, and tied on the bonnet over her 
 curls. Bridget had not spoken since her en 
 trance. Going to Johnny, she hung over his 
 chair a few moments, and kissed the pale fore 
 head ; then, taking Meta's hand, she was prepar 
 ing to leave. 
 
 "Just one minute," whispered Meta, eagerly,
 
 56 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 running to the boy and leaning her rosy face 
 near to his own. 
 
 " I'm coming again, dear Johnny," she said in 
 his ear ; " I do so want to hear you read, and 
 have you tell me about those beautiful things ; 
 for oh, I am trying to learn how to be good ! " 
 
 Then she hurriedly shook hands with Mrs. 
 Hale, and followed Bridget down stairs, out into 
 the crowded streets, where the sights and 
 sounds of busy life seemed in mocking con 
 trast to the peaceful chamber, where even the 
 child instinctively felt a human soul was pre 
 paring, in faith and love, for the great journey 
 through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 
 As they walked along, waiting for a car, Meta 
 noticed that Bridget's eyes were red and heavy. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " she asked, sadly, press 
 ing the woman's hand affectionately. "Are 
 you crying about Johnny ? / think he is so 
 good and happy ; and then, he doesn't look very 
 sick, only thin." 
 
 " Ah, but I saw the doctor, darlint," returned 
 Bridget, trying to control her voice ; " and he 
 says it's not for long the beautiful soul will be 
 held back. Don't my own eyes tell me what a 
 sore change has come over him since I left the 
 city ? Sure, he's almost got his wings, already, 
 has Johnny. Oh, my poor boy ! "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 57 
 
 Bridget's tears could no longer be restrained, 
 and, to Meta's infinite distress, she sobbed 
 aloud. Many careless passers-by turned to 
 look at the pair, as they walked along, weep 
 ing together, with no regard to the world. 
 
 " Will it be soon ? " asked Meta, in an awed 
 tone. 
 
 " Ay ! He's winging his flight, says the good 
 doctor winging his flight." 
 
 Many more questions Meta longed to ask, but 
 her friend could not command herself to speak ; 
 and it was a relief to both when they stood on 
 the porch in Thirty-fifth street, waiting to be 
 admitted. 
 
 Bridget was called off to her duties, and Meta 
 to her mamma's dressing-room, as soon as they 
 returned. Florry, and a half-dozen girls of her 
 age, were playing parlor croquet ; and, notwith 
 standing Meta's tear-stained face, she found her 
 self drawn unwillingly into the noisy group. It 
 was a very great contrast to the scene she had 
 left ; but, though subdued and thoughtful, Meta 
 was too much of a child to resist the infection 
 of gayety, and was not proof against the teasing 
 endeavors of Florry's friends to make her join 
 their game.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 T must not be supposed that my little 
 heroine became a Christian in one day, 
 for this was by no means the case. 
 Little seeds of truth were sown in the fair 
 garden of her soil ; but they came up slowly, 
 and the harvest was a long way off. Summer's 
 heats and showers, and winter's snows and 
 frosts, were yet in store. Bad habits are not 
 overcome in a day ; nor do a few, or even 
 many, good impulses create a new heart. 
 Sometimes the Holy Spirit works slowly, and 
 almost imperceptibly, but still he works ; and 
 we must not look for glorious conquests over 
 self, nor great strides towards holiness, unless 
 we have patience also for the days when dead- 
 ness of spirit and unruliness of heart take the 
 place of the longings, which are given us as well
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 59 
 
 for discipline as for peace. The weakness of 
 human nature often overthrows our best de 
 sires ; but let us not despair. There is a 
 blessed promise to cheer us in seasons of self- 
 abasement ; and, however hard it is to water 
 and tend the good seed sown, we know that in 
 " due time we shall reap, if we faint not." 
 
 As time passed on, Meta found it very diffi 
 cult to carry on, in New York, the same familiar 
 intercourse she had enjoyed with Bridget at 
 Bellevue. Mrs. Wallace, once alive to a sense 
 of her daughter's peculiar tastes, felt a nervous 
 fear of her becoming morbid and grave beyond 
 her years ; and, suspecting that Bridget's influ 
 ence tended to encourage these tastes, she grad 
 ually withdrew Meta from her association. The 
 Irishwoman was too valuable and honest to be 
 dismissed; but as there was no further neces 
 sity of a constant attendant on a child of Meta's 
 age, she managed to employ Bridget chiefly in 
 household matters, though she still retained the 
 nominal position of nurse. 
 
 A few days after the visit to Johnny, as Meta 
 was skipping rope on the pavement, the famil 
 iar sound of a hand-organ, a few doors below, 
 brought to her recollection the directions she 
 had given the tambourine girl. Meta was a 
 heedless child, 'and afflicted with a bad mem-
 
 6O META WALLACE, OK 
 
 ory. Her visit to Johnny had entirely eclipsed 
 everything that had taken place on that day; 
 so it was with a considerable degree of reluc 
 tance that she skipped along the pavement to 
 take a look at the party. Yes, there they were : 
 organ-grinder, monkey, and tambourine girl ; 
 and she saw at once that the latter recognized 
 her. Without waiting for their nearer ap 
 proach, Meta threw her rope down on the pave 
 ment, ran quickly back to the house, up-stuirs 
 to her bureau, the drawer of which was eagerly 
 opened, and the porte-monnaie drawn forth. 
 But the silk-lined compartments were empty. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! "what has become of my money ? " 
 she exclaimed aloud ; " I certainly didn't buy 
 that big doll, but where can it possibly be ? 
 Let me see ! I wonder if I got the charlotte 
 russe that day ? " 
 
 Florence, who sat curled up in the window- 
 sill, reading, laughed mockingly at her conster 
 nation. 
 
 " Well, that is an idea ! " she cried out ; 
 " why, Meta, don't you really know what you 
 did with it?" 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 "Then I'll tell you," said her sister, com 
 posedly. " You spent it right before my eyes 
 for caramels and cream chocolates."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 6 1 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " sighed Meta ; " I had forgotten 
 all about it. And now I haven't a cent to give 
 that poor child, and I promised her, too ! " 
 
 " I comprehend," said Florry, who liked to 
 use big words ; " it's that horrid organ-grinder's 
 dirty little girl. I shall ask papa to stop that 
 nuisance. So you promised her, did you ? " 
 
 "Yes, Florry ; oh, do lend me a shilling!" 
 
 " Going in debt to be generous, eh ? That's 
 very benevolent and praiseworthy. You'd bet 
 ter remember your promises next time. / can't 
 lend it, for I want to treat Nina Appleton to 
 morrow ; besides, you might ' forget ' to pay me 
 back, you know." 
 
 " You needn't be afraid," said Meta, angrily ; 
 " and if you don't want to lend it, I don't care. 
 I know what I'll do, see if I don't." 
 
 " You'd better not be charitable if it puts you 
 in such a passion," sneered Florry. "What 
 will you do, Miss Generosity ? Oh, that horri 
 ble organ ! " she cried, breaking off suddenly to 
 stop her ears. " I say, man," raising the win 
 dow, and scowling down on the two below, " go 
 away from this house, and don't come back 
 again ! " She threw out a few pennies as 
 she spoke, which the girl joyfully seized ; and 
 then, closing the window, she 'prepared to give 
 Meta the benefit of her advice about onran-
 
 62 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 grinders. But, to her amazement, Meta was no 
 where visible. 
 
 The impulsive child, with her head full of the 
 recollection of those bare, red feet outside, and 
 overwhelmed with a sense of her forgotten 
 promise, had gone to the closet while Florry 
 opened the window, and selected at hazard one 
 of her many pairs of walking shoes. Without 
 an instant's reflection she ran out on the pave 
 ment, and was pressing the pretty kid shoes on 
 the grateful and amazed girl, when the nursery 
 window was again raised, and Florry's head 
 poked out. 
 
 " Don't take those shoes," she cried, angrily ; 
 " I shall go right off to mamma, and tell her to 
 stop you ! " 
 
 The Italian looked completely puzzled, and 
 Meta very indignant, when a new figure ap 
 proached the group. Mr. Wallace, seated at 
 the drawing-room window, had been an unseen 
 observer of the whole affair, and was much 
 amused at his little daughter's eagerness in 
 giving away the pretty shoes, assuring the Ital 
 ians that she had "oceans of them up-stairs." 
 As soon, however, as her father appeared, she 
 came to a sudden pause. 
 
 " Well, my dear-?" asked Mr. Wallace, inquir 
 ingly.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 63 
 
 " O papa ! " was all she found voice to say. 
 
 Florence had, meanwhile, rushed out on the 
 porch to stop the interview and give the organ- 
 grinder a piece of her mind ; but, seeing her 
 father quietly standing at the man's elbow, she, 
 too, paused for an instant. But she could not 
 resist telling the great misdemeanor, and related 
 it very glibly. 
 
 " She promised these people some money, 
 papa, and then went and spent all she had. Do 
 you think, because I wouldn't lend her a shilling, 
 she didn't get a pair of her best balmoral kids 
 to give that miserable little thing?" 
 
 Mr. Wallace, with a severe look, put a sudden 
 stop to Florry's ready speech, and turned to 
 Meta. 
 
 " What have you to say for yourself ? " he 
 asked, his mouth twitching with the effort to 
 control his enjoyment of this novel entertain 
 ment. 
 
 "It's just as Florry says," she answered, rue 
 fully ; " but I did feel so sorry for the poor cold 
 feet, and, indeed, I have ever so many pairs of 
 shoes. Don't make me take them back, please, 
 papa ! " 
 
 The brown eyes looked so beseeching that 
 Mr. Wallace drew out his pocket-book. Taking 
 the shoes from the girl, and handing them back
 
 64 MET A WALLACE. 
 
 to Meta, whom he desired to await him in the 
 parlor, he bestowed a handful of change on the 
 grateful child, and asked the Italian a few ques 
 tions. 
 
 The sound of silver money in the tambourine 
 produced great excitement in the heart of the 
 little owner. It was a much larger sum than 
 was needful to put shoes on the bare, red feet. 
 
 Then the organ was carried a few squares off, 
 at Mr. Wallace's order, and only the faint tones 
 came wafted back. Florence, in a miff, ran 
 back to the nursery, and Meta, with many fore 
 bodings, sat very soberly awaiting her father's 
 entrance in the drawing-room. 
 
 For almost the first time in his daughter's 
 life-time, Mr. Wallace was brought face to face 
 with her inner self. Though shy at first, Meta 
 soon lost the awe of his presence, and got up on 
 his knee very familiarly. Before the interview 
 was over, she had told all about Johnny and 
 her various tastes, opening her father's eyes to 
 depths of child-life beyond his ken, and making 
 him long to know more of his queer little daugh 
 ter. The episode of the shoes was leniently 
 dealt with, though she was gravely informed of 
 the dishonesty of giving away her clothes without 
 mamma's knowledge. Meta had a vague idea 
 that it was not strictly just; but the full force of 
 her father's arguments did not come to her then.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HE visits to Johnny were still carried 
 on, but at long intervals. Mrs. Wal 
 lace nearly always contrived to keep 
 the two apart ; and though she gave Bridget 
 time to visit, and even sent delicacies to, the 
 sick boy, she managed to keep the girl very 
 busy in Meta's leisure. Had she prohibited 
 the child's going, there would have been no 
 stolen interviews, for the Irishwoman never 
 broke a promise ; but, like Meta, she was a 
 novice in such nice distinctions between right 
 and wrong; and though they both felt that Mrs. 
 Wallace did not approve of the hospital, they 
 still seized every opportunity of going, since 
 they had never been absolutely forbidden. 
 
 Johnny now suffered constant pain. He lay 
 for whole days in one position, with his poor 
 S (65)
 
 66 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 back in agony ; but his courage and fortitude 
 never forsook him. 
 
 One evening Meta, having contrived to elude 
 Florry's vigilance and accompany Bridget, they 
 found the little sufferer so feeble that it was 
 easy to see his troubles were nearly at an end. 
 He had endured incessant pain all day, and, 
 though his greeting was cheerful, the features 
 seemed older and more worn. 
 
 " Ah, Meta, Meta," he whispered, " I'm nearer 
 the 'great white throne,' nearer the 'jasper 
 sea!' Sing me one of your sweet hymns!" 
 
 Meta's clear young voice had strangely devel 
 oped itself in the sick chamber. It was her 
 "one talent," and she was hardly conscious of 
 its possession ; yet the child was endowed with 
 the rarest gift of song, and her sweet, liquid 
 notes would have startled Florry's professor had 
 he only heard. At home she seldom sang. 
 Johnny had asked her, one day, for a favorite 
 hymn, and she found that singing came as 
 natural to her as to the birds ; and so it grew 
 to be a regular part of her visit, and added no 
 little to the comfort and happiness of her friend. 
 
 " He will ' never, no, never, no, never for 
 sake, '" repeated Johnny after her, as she 
 ceased ; " O Meta, it is so comforting to me to 
 hear it. Sometimes I feel so lonely at the
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 6/ 
 
 thought of going all alone from the world ; but 
 then, when my heart shrinks, I think of those 
 words. Do you ever think of dyin', Meta ? " 
 
 " Not often," she answered, in a frightened 
 tone ; " I know I have to die, but I don't see 
 how I can help being afraid." 
 
 "Never mind," said the boy, encouragingly; 
 " when God has need of you he will give you 
 the strength you cannot feel now. Did 'you 
 ever see anybody die ? " 
 
 " No ; did you, Johnny ? " 
 
 " Only my own mother," he sighed ; " she 
 bid me be a good, brave lad, and strive to do 
 my duty ; and her lips, as she kissed me oft 
 and oft, were damp and cold, till I cried aloud 
 with the fear of my heart. She did not think 
 it would be long before I'd join her." 
 
 " Did they put her down in the dark ground?" 
 
 " Yes, the poor, weak body, they did ; but my 
 mother was far away from feeling cold nor dark. 
 She, for all she lay so pale and still, was in that 
 blessed country where God is wipin' away the 
 tears from eyes that weep. Oh, to think there'll 
 be no more cryin' nor any pain, and even me, 
 with my poor, twisted, achin' body, will be 
 praisin' and blessin' God ! " 
 
 " How do you know, Johnny ? What makes 
 you so sure ? " asked Meta's puzzled voice. The
 
 68 MKTA WALLACE, OR 
 
 question startled the happy little journeyer, who 
 had relied upon the preciousness of the words 
 so long. He turned the fading eyes full upon 
 the child, saying, solemnly : 
 
 " ' He is faithful that promised,' and I cannot 
 be mistaken, Meta ! The same Lord that said 
 ' Write ! ' said, too, ' For these words are true 
 and faithful.'" 
 
 He paused an instant, and smiled to see the 
 earnest eyes so eagerly regarding him ; then, 
 reaching his little Bible, he opened at the book 
 of Job, i Qth chapter. 
 
 "There," he said, gently, ," read the words 
 yourself." She followed the direction of his 
 hand, and read after him : 
 
 " ' For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and 
 that he shall stand at the latter day upon the 
 earth : and though after my skin, worms destroy 
 this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God : 
 
 * ' Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes 
 shall behold, and not another ; " 
 
 "But, Johnny," said the child, as he looked 
 triumphantly in her face, " I don't understand 
 it all ; do you ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay," gravely shaking his head ; " we 
 do not know how they are raised, nor with what 
 body they come. My Bible tells me it is a great 
 ' mystery/ how ' corruption puts on incorrup-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 69 
 
 tion;' it is enough for the likes of me to know 
 that we shall surely rise again, and God will 
 give us what bodies seem good to him." 
 ^ " You talk like people in books, Johnny. Who 
 told you all about dying and getting a new body ? 
 I know you read a heap, but I don't see how that 
 can be ! I always thought we turned into dust 
 when we died. Are you sure we shall have 
 sure enough bodies ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed," returned the boy, eagerly; 
 " just listen to the very words ! " And he read 
 of the glorious fruits that followed on Christ's 
 rising from the dead. The full meaning of the 
 inspired language was beyond Meta's compre 
 hension, but the simplicity of the metaphors 
 helped her to take in the fact that God's power 
 changes the natural into the spiritual body, just 
 as that same power brings forth from the single 
 grain the full corn in the ear. 
 3 "You see," resumed Johnny, "death comes 
 first. The seed is not ' quickened except it die ; ' 
 so my poor painful body must be laid in the 
 ground, too, until I'll come forth in the new 
 body, when I ' see God in the flesh.' " 
 
 "But wouldn't you rather have " Meta 
 paused abruptly, blushing in confusion. 
 
 " Rather have a new, whole, sound body like 
 yours, do you ask? Don't you know what is fst
 
 7 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 to stand before the 'great white throne' is fit 
 for me ? He says there will be no more sorrow 
 nor crying; and if I took the aches and pains 
 along with me, sure would the promise fail me 
 then, for I could but weep and groan. No ! I 
 don't know how the Master works, but I am sure 
 it will be done." 
 
 Johnny's tone of conviction had a great effect 
 upon Meta. The mysteries of life and death had 
 never been presented to her before, and the sight 
 of a lad, only a few years older than herself, 
 looking forward to that spiritual body, which 
 she only feebly grasped at, filled her with anx 
 iety to understand for herself. 
 
 The short afternoon was almost gone; but 
 though Meta had in a measure stolen off for the 
 visit, she would not have thought of the conse 
 quences had not Bridget's warning voice bade 
 her remember that her mamma did not know 
 she had come. Even then she obeyed the sum 
 mons reluctantly, and leaned over to say a last 
 word to the little dying Christian. 
 
 "Johnny," she whispered, hesitatingly, "will 
 you let me read your book and learn for myself? 
 I would love to stay here all the time, but, you 
 see, I can't." 
 
 Johnny was silent an instant, in some per 
 plexity. "People make their wills, you know,"
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. J\ 
 
 he said at last, brightly, "and I haven't much 
 to leave. When I go," he nodded significantly, 
 " then it'll be yours, and you can learn the 
 way. I couldn't be happy without it," he went 
 on apologetically ; " it's like an old friend, you 
 see ! " . 
 
 Meta hastily assured him "that would do," 
 and they parted with a promise from the little 
 girl that she would soon return.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 UT Meta did not see Johnny again for 
 weeks ; during which time he rallied 
 hopefully, only to grow worse again in 
 the end. 
 
 When they reached home that evening it was 
 quite late. The curtains were down, and gas 
 light streamed from every window. Bridget was 
 greeted in the hall, by the butler, with the signs 
 of a storm. 
 
 " Sure, the mistress is very angry, and ye two 
 are wanted in the dressin'-room at oncet," said 
 Thomas, smiling grimly. 
 
 "What is it now?" asked Bridget, hurriedly. 
 " Faith, and that you must find out for your 
 self," was his ungracious rejoinder. 
 
 Florence met them at the head of the stairs. 
 " You've gone and got yourself in a nice fix," 
 (72)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 73 
 
 she cried, beginning to run down the steps. " I 
 knew there'd be an end to your evening walks. 
 I hope you've seen enough of that horrid hos 
 pital at last ! And O Meta, you are not to go 
 to mamma, but to the nursery; she only wants 
 to see Bridget." 
 
 " Are you spaking the thruth ? " asked Bridget, 
 indignation bringing out her pronunciation. 
 
 " Yes, I'm spaking the thruth, sure," mimicked 
 Florry, laughing, " and if Meta wants to find out 
 to her cost, she'd better proceed to the dressing- 
 room at once." 
 
 The child, though glad of an escape from the 
 dreaded interview, was very much concerned 
 that the storm should fall on her favorite's head; 
 and she clung to Bridget, beseeching her to let 
 her go to mamma, and tell her it was all her 
 own fault. 
 
 But Bridget preferred to obey orders, and left 
 her at the nursery door, with a few encouraging 
 kisses, and the assurance that Johnny's condi 
 tion would doubtless abate Mrs. Wallace's dis 
 pleasure. 
 
 Meta sat in the nursery, in the dim light, for 
 a long time ; but no Bridget appeared. She 
 was very courageous, and not at all afraid of 
 being alone ; but anxiety added clogs to the 
 minutes, and her intentness in listening for the
 
 74 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 dressing-room door to open magnified every 
 sound in the house. 
 
 At last the door did open and close, Meta 
 heard slow steps coming along the'passage, and 
 Bridget appeared on the threshold. There was 
 a very sad, pained expression on her honest 
 face, and her eyes were quite red from weeping. 
 She ran to Meta, caught her hurriedly in her 
 sturdy arms, and sank back in a chair, rocking 
 herself to and fro. 
 
 " An' it's leave you I must, my darlint," she 
 sobbed out, clasping the child closer to her 
 breast ; " it's leave you I must, and that at once." 
 
 " Leave me ? Why, what did mamma say, 
 Bridget? Is she very angry, and what is it 
 about? Oh, don't go! You shall not go, my 
 dear old Bridget ! " 
 
 "An* I must, my honey. It's neither what 
 we wish nor ask, but your mamma is very firm. 
 I can't say she was over-unkind, but she is very 
 quiet and determined-like." 
 
 "Oh, what can make her so angry?" sobbed 
 Meta, burying her head in the nurse's breast. 
 
 And then Bridget told the result of her sum 
 mons to Mrs. Wallace. It seems that Florence, 
 who still slept in the nursery, had kept her 
 mamma pretty well informed of the conferences 
 indulged in by Meta and Bridget whenever the
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 75 
 
 latter was at leisure ; and, knowing that Johnny 
 and his religious views were more often dis 
 cussed than anything else, the mother gradually 
 grew provoked and alarmed at the extent of the 
 girl's influence over her wayward child. She 
 had long meditated getting rid of Bridget as 
 quietly as possible ; for, though her services 
 were of great value, a thousand fears of Meta's 
 growing " sanctified " and unchildlike beset her 
 mind, and she preferred the annoyance of sup 
 plying a valuable servant's place to the possible 
 future she had pictured for her little daughter. 
 She was, therefore,* very glad to seize this oppor 
 tunity to reprimand Bridget severely, and inform 
 her that she was no longer to be trusted with 
 the charge of a child. In vain poor Bridget 
 begged and wept, assuring her that she would 
 promise anything if she would only be al 
 lowed another trial, and be retained in service. 
 Mrs. Wallace was determined, and, with a 
 contemptuous reference to Johnny the in 
 nocent, cause of her wrath assured the girl 
 that she must leave at once. Bridget's blood 
 boiled as her little patient sufferer came in for 
 a share of the blame, and she answered, in a 
 quick, impetuous way : 
 
 " Sure, it's glad ye should be that the darlint 
 should see one of God's own winging his flight !
 
 76 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 ma'am," breaking off in tears, "it's not for 
 long he'll be in the way, and I'll promise she'll 
 not see him again, if only ye'll keep me till the 
 boy is gone ! Sure, it'll break his heart, ma'am, 
 the disgrace; and I as was never sent from a 
 house before ! " 
 
 But Mrs. Wallace had made up her mind. At 
 any other time she would probably have yielded 
 to the girl's evident distress, for she was not se 
 vere, nor cruel, only very selfish, and thoughtless 
 of the pain her whims inflicted; but a great 
 many disappointments, of one kind or another, 
 had made her fretful for some time, and Bridget's 
 natural defence of her brother was called an im 
 pertinence as she steeled herself against the 
 pleading voice. 
 
 " I do not wish to mortify you, Bridget," she 
 said, reluctantly, " and I am sure you will suffer 
 nothing by leaving me. I shall send you to a 
 friend in Brooklyn, who will pay even more than 
 
 1 have done; and as you have had no warning, 
 I shall feel bound to give you a month's wages 
 besides your due. Of this you surely cannot 
 complain ; but it is worse than useless to at 
 tempt to change my resolution. I beg you will 
 say nothing more on the subject, and be ready 
 to leave to-morrow." 
 
 " So soon ! " interrupted Bridget, sadly.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace nodded slightly as she took out 
 her purse and handed her a large bill. " Take 
 this, and go," she said, not unkindly ; " and if 
 you need a friend at any time, apply to me ; 
 but I caution you against attempting to see 
 Meta after you leave, as I should certainly make 
 you feel the weight of my displeasure in such 
 an event." 
 
 "Never fear, madame," returned Bridget, 
 proudly, " I'll not trouble you again ! Only," 
 she continued, hesitatingly "only, if the lad 
 grew worse, and it would be a comfort to him, 
 would you let her go there once?" 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," answered the lady, 
 slightly frowning, as she bade the girl withdraw. 
 Bridget did so with a heavy heart, muttering to 
 herself as the door closed behind her : 
 
 " And ye'll shut the gates of the Golden City 
 upon her, as Johnny talks about ! Well, poor 
 lamb ! The Lord can take care of his own, in 
 spite of ye ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wallace's reflections were of a mixed 
 character as she sat musing. A feeling of re 
 gret for her decision, and a half-desire to call 
 Bridget back, mingled with intense relief that 
 the disagreeable step, so long meditated, was 
 finally taken. 
 
 " I have saved the child from vulgar associa-
 
 78 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 tion and morbid influences," she thought, con 
 tentedly ; " Felicie will give her some style, and 
 she will have to talk French frequently. I shall 
 send her to walk in the square regularly, too, 
 and I hope this will throw her with suitable 
 companions, notwithstanding her queer tastes." 
 
 And thus, so far as Mrs. Wallace was con 
 cerned, the question was satisfactorily settled. 
 But not so with the pair who were rendered so 
 miserable by the thought of separation. Their 
 bitter tears and sad faces made excellent food 
 for Florry's sarcasms at bed-time; but her ef 
 forts to provoke and annoy them were for once 
 unheeded. 
 
 On the following morning, Meta screamed 
 and cried in a very naughty way when her 
 mamma attempted to reason with her grief. Sit 
 ting upon Bridget's trunk in the nursery, she 
 vehemently refused to allow Thomas to remove 
 it, though Mrs. Wallace scolded and threatened 
 in a severe tone. In consequence of this rebell 
 ion, the adieux of poor Bridget were very faint, 
 and rendered almost unintelligible by sobs that 
 she could not restrain. Tom, at a signal from 
 his mistress, lifted Meta in his sturdy arms, and 
 deposited her on the dressing-room lounge, 
 where Felicie awaited her. 
 
 " Sure, she's a rare "un," he said, smiling 
 grimly. " I wish ye joy of your place, miss."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. J7C) 
 
 The Frenchwoman, dressed very stylishly, 
 and looking very much bored, came over to the 
 lounge, and attempted to smooth the tumbled 
 curls ; but Meta thrust aside her hand rudely. 
 
 "Let me alone, Felicie!" she screamed, an 
 grily. " I don't like you at all ! I don't love 
 any one but Bridget, and she's gone ! " The 
 last sentence was wailed forth to the wise-look 
 ing birds on the papering. The young woman 
 turned up her nose, and went back to the book 
 she had been reading ; yet she staid by Meta 
 the rest of the day. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace thought it best to leave the sor 
 rowful child to bear her first grief alone, as a 
 righteous punishment for her display of rebell 
 ious temper ; but she was wrong. A mother's 
 tender love and quiet reasoning would have 
 soon subdued the spirit of angry contradiction, 
 and Meta's tears of grief would have become 
 those of repentance. Mrs. Wallace, like many 
 others, "looked through a glass, darkly." 
 Child-sorrows, with 'most people, are deemed 
 trifling, and the rod more often used than love 
 to assuage them ; but in proportion to its sense 
 of pain, childhood's griefs are keener than those 
 of maturer years. Neither reason nor philoso 
 phy, nor even that spirit of passive endur 
 ance which some have learned in the rigorous 
 school, aid the child-heart in viewing trouble
 
 8O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 by the law of comparison ; and religion is too 
 abstract and dimly comprehended for faith to 
 soothe, and humility to accept, as the justice of 
 the All- Wise. Thrice blessed are those mothers 
 who can distinguish between actual, willful 
 naughtiness, and the sensitive spirit that creates 
 its own miseries without design. It is a nice 
 distinction, truly ; and few of us pause to ques 
 tion it when seeming ingratitude and rebellion 
 arouse our sense of justice. Yet it is a fearful 
 power that we hold, and one requiring earnest 
 watchfulness and prayer ; for God, who has im 
 parted it, alone knows the extent and conse 
 quences of the mother's influence; the task of 
 rearing, teaching, restraining the human souls 
 confided to us, making of them almost as much 
 the creatures of our will and the result of our 
 example as the potter doth with the clay, when 
 he maketh one vessel unto honor, and another 
 unto dishonor, as it pleaseth him. Many a mo 
 rose, selfish, unbelieving man or woman is but 
 the natural result of early impulses unchecked, 
 childish miseries unsympathized with, childish 
 trust abused. 
 
 Meta spent her whole day in tears. She re 
 fused all food, and lay on the sofa, counting the 
 birds and flowers on the papering, and varying 
 the amusement by making faces at Felicie.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 8 1 
 
 With a heart as sad as her little charge, 
 Bridget left the house, and went at once to 
 Johnny, though she forbore to sadden him with 
 the news of her dismissal. She found the little 
 sufferer so calm and reconciled, his mind so 
 engrossed with heavenly things, in the midst of 
 excruciating pain, that she could not bring her 
 self to add a feather's weight to the earthly clogs 
 that were, in the shape of nature's weaknesses, 
 holding the longing soul still fettered. 
 
 Later in the day, she crossed the ferry, and 
 sought the elegant Brooklyn establishment, to 
 which Mrs. Wallace's recommendation gained 
 her instant admission and a good home. 
 
 Here we must leave her for awhile.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 E now pass over a period of some weeks, 
 during which time Meta went daily to 
 Madame Clive's elegant and exclusive 
 school with Florry, and walked out in the after 
 noon with Fe"licie, who took her only to the gay 
 parks, with other well-dressed children, or down 
 Broadway to see the handsome stores, and 
 crowds of people, or to look in the windows of 
 the toy-shops. She still missed Bridget sadly, 
 and longed for her with a sore lieart, disliking 
 the French maid in proportion as she loved her 
 old nurse ; yet she did enjoy walking and driv 
 ing every day, and paying frequent visits to the 
 confectioner, despite her griefs. At night her 
 loss was most sensibly felt; for F^licie, who dis 
 liked nursing, was very cross sometimes, and 
 often left her alone. At such times Meta cried 
 (82)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 83 
 
 herself to sleep, and thought very hard things 
 of the fate that had deprived her of her best 
 friend. She would often revolve all sorts of 
 impracticable schemes in her head for finding 
 Bridget and Johnny, even going so far as to 
 stow away bread and cake in her drawer for 
 some future contingency, when she might run 
 away from Felicie and everybody, and sleep for 
 awhile in an alley, until some good Samaritan 
 should pick her up and bring her home ; in 
 which event, she pictured everybody in great 
 consternation, and full of repentance and good 
 will, when she was duly deposited in Thirty- 
 fifth street by the aforesaid good Samaritan. 
 But, owing to the wholesome awe in which Fe 
 licie held her mistress, Meta's runaway ideas 
 never had room to develop ; the Frenchwoman 
 kept a strict watch over her in their daily in 
 tercourse, and often complained to her nursery 
 acquaintances that her charge was one of the 
 greatest afflictions in life. It must not be sup 
 posed that Meta's desperate feelings were of 
 long duration ; for, like other children, she was 
 easily roused from even real sorrow by dis 
 tractions. She had many delightful play hours 
 at school, and her favorites among her class 
 mates, and even enjoyed an occasional doll's 
 party, though she was no longer reduced to 
 imaginary characters for her feasts.
 
 84 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 Florry, being at that age when she consid 
 ered it smart to look down upon little girls, 
 made her sister's school-days, at first, something 
 of a trial. Even in Meta's choice of a friend 
 she snubbed and sneered at her. Madame Clive, 
 though professing to have a most exclusive 
 school, admitted to the honor of scholarship the 
 daughters of several tradesmen ; among whom 
 was Alice Agneau, the child of the very confec 
 tioner at whose counter the dollar for Johnny 
 had been expended. Meta had always liked the 
 sweet, girlish face, long before she was made 
 hopelessly captive by Alice's kindness in ex 
 plaining away the mysteries of that childish bug 
 bear, "fractions," over which she one day bent 
 her puzzled face and tortured her poor head in 
 vain. On the homeward walk, she had vent 
 ured to tell Florry that " Alice Agneau was the 
 very delightfullest girl in school ; " at which 
 Florry's nose turned up still higher as she said, 
 with a grand air : 
 
 " Agneau ? Why, that's where I buy cream 
 puffs and meringues, on Sixth avenue ! " 
 
 " Yes, it's the very place. Alice brings crul 
 lers to school every day, and " 
 
 " Has found that the way to your heart is 
 straight down your throat, eh ? Fie ! I wouldn't 
 be bought over with crullers ! "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 "Neither am I! Alice helps me do those 
 dreadful sums, and I like her ever so much. 
 She speaks French a great deal better than you, 
 or Nina Appleton, either, / can tell you ! ' 
 
 "Very likely," returned Florry, unmoved; 
 "and she probably understands the art of bak 
 ing better, I dare say ! " The discussion lasted 
 until they reached home, and both were sor 
 what excited. 
 
 I don't care if you do tell mamma, was 
 Meta's half-crying exclamation, as they waited 
 for Thomas "to answer the bell ; " Alice is good 
 to me, and I don't care what you say ! 
 
 And so you said about that horrid Bridget, 
 said Florry, sneering; - it's a wonder to me you 
 always choose friends that haven't any ances 
 
 tors. 
 
 People are obliged to have ancestors ! " cried 
 Meta, angrily ; " you know they are ! I'm sure 
 it doesn't matter whether they lived " 
 
 "On cream puffs, for instance," suggested 
 
 Florry. 
 
 " In cake-shops, I say, or in " 
 
 "Ireland," finished Florence, provokingly. 
 " Come ! You can't deny that your two friends' 
 fathers probably subsisted on cream puffs and 
 'praties.' You know, Meta, mamma will want 
 to know about Alice; she is very aristocratic, 
 and her grandfather "
 
 86 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 
 
 "Yes, where did he come from?" asked 
 Meta, quickly. 
 
 " Why," began Flurry, meditatively, " I really 
 forget where he did come from, though I know 
 he was a big man somewhere. I'm sure of it ! 
 Let me see ! I guess he jumped out of the ark 
 window, and floated down ; for I can tell you, 
 mamma's family is awfully old. So, my dear, 
 take my advice, and let confectioners' daughters 
 alone." Florence tapped Meta's chin provok- 
 ingly with her lead pencil as they entered the 
 hall, and ran away up-stairs, leaving her sister 
 to her own reflections. 
 
 " I wish I wish," said the child, slowly, 
 "oh, I wish I was going with Johnny; then 
 they wouldn't all treat me so ! I mean to run 
 away and find that hospital, if I can only get 
 away from Fe"licie, and then nobody can find 
 me!" 
 
 As she went slowly up-stairs, she met her 
 father, who was hastily coming down and jos 
 tled against her. As he stopped an instant, to 
 pat the pretty cheek, a sudden thought struck 
 her: 
 
 "O papa," she cried, eagerly, "mayn't I go 
 with you walking this evening? I am so tired 
 of Felicie." 
 
 " Not now, my dear," returned her father, hur-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 87 
 
 riedly ; " I have lost a very valuable paper, and 
 must go to Bellevue in a day or two. When I 
 come back, Meta ! Kiss papa, my daughter ! 
 Here, take this, and buy yourself something 
 pretty." And, slipping a half-dollar in her hand, 
 he passed on down the stairs, leaving Meta in a 
 brown study. Something in her father's man 
 ner recalled her old dread of him, which she 
 had in a measure overcome ; and the mention of 
 "valuable paper" recalled her long-forgotten 
 trouble before their return to the city. Was it 
 possible that the paper she had destroyed was 
 really valuable, and its loss the source of so 
 much anxiety as to cause a trip to Bellevue ? 
 The question presented itself again and again, 
 and brought with it so much perplexed thought 
 that Meta -wondered how she could have for 
 gotten it so soon. The more she reflected, the 
 more probable this solution of her father's grav 
 ity seemed to her; and the possibility of having 
 to confess a piece of naughtiness, involving she 
 knew not what disgrace or loss, made her really 
 miserable. All through her early dinner with 
 Felicie she found herself longing for Bridget, 
 and regretting, too late, the obstinacy that re 
 fused to confide her mysterious behavior in 
 Mrs. Walker's room to her faithful friend. 
 
 "O Johnny," was her constant thought, "how 
 hard it is for me to be good ! "
 
 88 AfETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 An intense longing to see the sick boy took 
 possession of her, as her vivid imagination pict 
 ured the possible result should her mischief 
 have been really discovered, and her father's 
 loss be traced to her meddling fingers. 
 
 All through the elaborate toilette which F6- 
 licie deemed necessary for a walk in Washing 
 ton square, Meta pondered sundry desperate 
 schemes for getting to Johnny, whose advice and 
 sympathy she relied on in her dilemma. She 
 felt that he could tell her what was best to do, 
 or, at any rate, satisfy the doubts and fears that 
 had assailed her. But how get rid of the maid ? 
 
 "Fe"licie," she asked, timidly, "don't you 
 think you could find the hospital, if I told you 
 what cars to take ? " 
 
 " The hospital ! " repeated Fe"licie, holding up 
 her hands ; " why, madame has forbid the hospi 
 tal. She will be ver' angry ! No, I can go to 
 only shops and parks." 
 
 " But you will go to Agneau's, and get some 
 nice meringues, won't you ? " asked the child, 
 coaxingly. Meta had some strategy in her 
 composition. 
 
 " Ah, but yees," answered Fe"licie, sooth 
 ingly ; " now you talk wisdom, mignonne. Cer 
 tain, we will go to Agneau." 
 
 The hair was curled to FeMicie's satisfaction,
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 89 
 
 and her own and Meta's hats stylishly adjusted; 
 then they sauntered forth, apparently the best 
 of friends. Meta was in high spirits. A hope of 
 success buoyed her up as she thought of Fran- 
 gois, the good-natured waiting-boy at Agneau's, 
 who had known her for so many years, and 
 always chatted so kindly across the counter. 
 Meta was one of his best, and decidedly his fa 
 vorite, customer, and Frangois always put an ex 
 tra puff or candy in her parcels. Might she 
 not find Johnny with the assistance of the kind 
 French boy ? Fe"licie's taste for sweets might 
 serve her a good turn yet. 
 
 Very happy, she skipped along by the maid's 
 side to the Sixth avenue, and was soon looking 
 into Agneau's glass case. 
 
 While Felicie discussed, in her native tongue, 
 the merits of a new confection exhibited by old 
 Agneau, Meta held a whispered conference 
 with Frangois at the other end of the long 
 counter. 
 
 " Do you know where a big stone hospital is, 
 Frangois ? " 
 
 The boy smiled. " Yes, ever so many," he 
 replied, with a curious look in her earnest face. 
 
 " But I mean one that you take those cars," 
 pointing to one passing, " and ride ever so far, 
 and then get out and walk a square."
 
 QO MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 
 
 " I can't say," returned Francois, shaking his 
 head, "though I had a cousin that died in 
 one " ' 
 
 " But they don't have small-pox and cholera 
 in this one, Francois, and you needn't be afraid. 
 Johnny is going to die, but it's only his poor 
 back, you know. Can't you think where your 
 cousin was? Oh, do, please !" 
 
 " I can look in the Directory, and ask mon 
 sieur," said Francois, seeing her earnestness ; 
 " but, mademoiselle, what do you want in a 
 hospital ? " 
 
 " I must see Johnny ! Oh ! can't you help 
 me a bit, Francois ? " 
 
 Here F61icie came up to the two, looking cu 
 riously at the. shop-boy, and telling Meta to 
 " come on." The sharp glance of her black eyes 
 made him color up, but, seeing Meta's look 
 of disappointment at receiving no answer, he 
 leaned over and whispered a few words : 
 
 " J'tsptre que out," he said, unconsciously, in 
 French. " Je vous dirai demain ; vcnez sans 
 faute. " Here F61icie, though she heard 
 nothing, began to suspect a plot, and, taking 
 Meta's hand, walked her unceremoniously out 
 of the store. The child gave a despairing sigh 
 as she went along the avenue in silence. 
 
 " Oh," she thought, regretfully, " I wish I
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. C)I 
 
 could understand French people ! If I was only 
 as smart as Florry, or had studied my lessons, 
 or talked to Felicie. But I can't ! She is so hate 
 ful ; that's why I don't like French. ' J'fepere 
 que otti venez sans fatite Je vous dirai de- 
 main ' oh, what does it all mean, I wonder ? " 
 
 But, though she remembered the words, the 
 solution of Francois' attempted consolation could 
 not be found. Florence found her at bed-time 
 with a big French dictionary on her knee, look 
 ing out the words, sleepily. 
 
 " Getting mighty studious," laughed Florry, 
 yawning, as the troubled face was lifted to hers. 
 
 " O dear Florry, what does this mean ? " she 
 asked, pleadingly, as she slowly repeated her 
 sentence, or such of it as she could remember. 
 
 " You little stupid ! " replied her sister, conde 
 scendingly, glad to exhibit her superior knowl 
 edge ; " I never heard such pronunciation ! ' Je 
 vous dirai demain ' means ' I will tell you to 
 morrow.' What is the rest ? " 
 
 But this was enough for Meta. With very 
 grateful thanks for the information, she shut 
 up her book, and began to undress, resisting 
 Florry's teasing to learn "what she wanted to 
 know for," and not resenting her insinuation 
 that she was up to some'*mischief. 
 
 All the next day in school, she was absorbed in
 
 Q2 MET A WALLACE, OK 
 
 the coming escape from Fdicie, and her various 
 modes of eluding vigilance utterly interfered 
 with her lessons. The " fractions " had assumed 
 a giant aspect, and not even Alice's efforts to 
 explain could make her see any result to her 
 sums but a big stone building and long flights 
 of stairs. Madame Clive administered a severe 
 rebuke, but it did not avail much ; and Meta 
 drew a sigh of relief when she was dismissed 
 in disgrace to her seat, where she indulged in 
 her plans for the afternoon until school closed. 
 
 After dinner, as Florry and Felicie were talk 
 ing and laughing in the nursery, Meta took ad 
 vantage of an animated discussion of Nina Ap- 
 pleton's perfections to leave them unobserved. 
 She ran hastily down-stairs, caught her hat off 
 the entry rack, and rushed out of the back 
 entrance. 
 
 After a hard run, she reached Agneau's, com 
 pletely out of breath. 
 
 " O Francois," she cried, panting, " I know 
 what you meant ! See ! I've come in time. 
 Can you take me now ? Oh, don't say no, 
 please ! " 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, gravely, " I've been 
 thinking it over, and why you not tell maclame ? 
 Suppose you get in a fix ? " 
 
 "Oh, indeed, I don't want to do anything but
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 93 
 
 see Johnny; the boy with the bad back, you 
 know ! I'm in so much trouble, and he will be 
 sure to know what I ought to do. Did you find 
 the place ? " 
 
 "Yes, but" 
 
 She interrupted him with a piteous look. 
 " I will promise to be ever so good, and 
 come home just when you wish me to ; 
 you needn't even let go of my hand. O 
 Francois, please come along! Felicie doesn't 
 miss me, and I want to hurry back ! " 
 
 Francois was not proof against her entreat 
 ies ; and when, on calling Agneau into the con 
 ference, the old man thought there couldn't 
 be much harm done, he resisted no longer. 
 
 The pair were comfortably seated in the cars, 
 and some way down the avenue, before Meta's 
 loss was discovered by the angry Felicie.
 
 CHAPTER XII: 
 
 OHNNY was very much startled at 
 sight of the little girl without Bridget. 
 " Where is my sister ? " he asked, 
 anxiously, after giving Meta a joyful greeting. 
 " Why didn't you bring her along too ? how did 
 you come, and who is this ? " 
 
 Meta looked at him, wonderingly. 
 
 " Why, Johnny, didn't you know that Bridget 
 lives in Brooklyn now ? " 
 
 The boy's face clouded over as he looked wist 
 fully at his little friend ; and Meta related the 
 story she had unwittingly betrayed. 
 
 " And is it run off you have ? " asked the sick 
 boy, his eyes filled with tears at her recital. 
 
 " O Johnny, was it wrong ? Indeed, I wanted 
 you ever so bad, and I knew Fe"licie wouldn't 
 come with me. You see, I had to run away." 
 
 (94)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 95 
 
 " But she doesn't wish you to visit the likes 
 of me," sighed the boy, in a mortified tone; 
 "and though we can't see as how one who is 
 almost gone from poverty and sin could hurt 
 you much, Meta, yet we know what the com 
 mand is, deary : ' Honor thy father and thy 
 mother.' Sure, you must even do as ye're bid, 
 if ye'd learn the Way." 
 
 "Don't scold me, dear Johnny, I can't bear 
 it," sobbed Meta, covering her face. " Oh, I 
 didn't mean to be wicked; I only wanted you 
 to tell me how to do something mighty hard to 
 do; and now you're angry with me I know 
 you are ! " 
 
 "Nay, Meta," he returned, sadly, "it's very 
 nice and good in you to think my poor help 
 'any great things, and I'll not say but your 
 face is a very comforting sight to my eyes, as 
 sees only red walls and the skies all day ; but I 
 daren't bid you steal away from home to come 
 to me, and it's not right for me to even speak 
 to you against your own mother's will." 
 
 But Meta would not go. She cried long and 
 bitterly over the new lesson, but she had run 
 too much risk, in order to obtain his advice, 
 not to tell her source of unhappiness, and seek 
 comfort and aid through his superior knowledge 
 of the right.
 
 96 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 After the tears were exhausted, she turned to 
 Francois. 
 
 " Won't you go over there ? " she asked, hesi 
 tatingly, pointing to the window ; " I want to 
 tell something to Johnny, and I know you won't 
 mind." 
 
 " Oh, no, I won't mind," answered Francois, 
 smiling, as he turned off; "only don't make it 
 too long. Five minutes, little lady, and we 
 must go, for sure enough ! " 
 
 The five minutes passed, however, long be 
 fore Meta's whole trouble could be told; for she 
 began with her various naughty doings at Belle- 
 vue, and did not end until the piece of mis 
 chief was brought to her mind by her father's 
 loss of a valuable paper, and the sudden anxiety 
 it had occasioned. When it was all revealed, 
 she drew a long breath, and looked anxiously 
 in Johnny's face. 
 
 "What must I do?" she asked, plaintively; 
 " what would you do, I mean ? " 
 
 " I was never tried," returned Johnny, simply; 
 " but if I was, I am sure I would make an end 
 of it, and tell my father the whole thing " 
 
 " But," she interrupted, quickly, " you know 
 the paper might not have been worth anything, 
 and then I would have all the fright and pun 
 ishment for nothing, you see. O Johnny, isn't
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 97 
 
 there some other way ? You don't know how 
 angry papa will be ! " 
 
 But Johnny did not think this made any dif 
 ference when a fault was to be atoned for or a 
 duty plain. 
 
 "It will be a step in the right way," he said, 
 consolingly, " and I doubt me if your father 
 will be very wroth if you confess it all. See, 
 Meta : the tearing it up was careless, but it 
 wasn't sinful until you kept back the truth, like, 
 and acted a lie " 
 
 " I never told a lie in my life," she cried, 
 flushing and drawing herself up. " No, Johnny, 
 I'm not so bad as you think me." 
 
 "And wasn't it dishonest, think ye," he 
 asked, patting her head, " to keep it away from 
 all knowledge so long, when it was your father's 
 property, and you had destroyed it ? Ah, Meta, 
 there's many a hard thing we must do, and 
 many a deep thing to learn, before we come to 
 the reward ! You did the mischief from a 
 thoughtless way you have ; but was it thought 
 less to hide it and try to swallow your sins ? " 
 
 " Swallow my sins ? O Johnny, you are 
 laughing at me I know you are " 
 
 "No," he said, smiling; "didn't you swallow 
 the paper to get rid of the blame and the pun 
 ishment ? But, Meta, we can't do this with our 
 7
 
 98 MET A WALLAC&, OR 
 
 sins, for God takes account of them even if the 
 world never suspects us, and if we go on and on 
 with praise given us instead of blame. So it's 
 no use to hide what God sees and will surely 
 punish us for in time. Besides, if the paper is 
 not worth anything, you will have done your 
 duty, and he will look down and bless you, 
 deary, for he knows it's not easy to confess our 
 faults ; and telling is not going to alter it at all, 
 or make it valuable if it isn't. Do you see?" 
 
 Meta nodded her head. 
 
 " It will be found out, you mean," she said, 
 slowly, as she tried to take in the nice difference 
 between willful persistence in concealment, and 
 accidental mischief. "Yes, I suppose it will 
 some of these days, whether I ever tell or not. 
 Oh, I never did think of that before, and it's 
 strange I didn't, for I have thought over it so 
 much " 
 
 Francois here approached, ' and interrupted 
 them unwillingly. 
 
 "You see the time, mademoiselle," he said, 
 warningly pointing to the big clock ticking 
 away on the mantel ; " it's a good ride, too, and 
 you have escape Mademoiselle Felicie " 
 
 " Sure enough ! " cried Meta, starting up and 
 turning suddenly to Johnny. " God saw me do 
 that too, didn't he ? " she asked, remorsefully. 
 " O Johnny, will I have to tell FeUicie ? "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 99 
 
 "You should do it," he said, earnestly, as'she 
 leaned over to say good-bye. 
 
 The child sighed N ruefully as she followed 
 Francois down-stairs ; but though Johnny's rea 
 soning had convinced her, she was hardly dis 
 posed to follow his advice. Like many a wiser 
 head, she shrunk from manifest duty, because 
 there was mortification and pain in confession ; 
 and all during the ride homeward, she was try 
 ing to persuade a very willing agent in such 
 matters self-love that there was no actual 
 use in being as good as Johnny was. She 
 might have been worried and fretted for noth 
 ing, after all; and at any rate it could do no 
 harm to wait and see what came of it, before 
 she acknowledged herself culprit. Johnny's 
 suggestion that it would be found out, even 
 if she never told it, had produced a directly 
 opposite effect to what he designed ; inasmuch 
 as Meta's conscience took refuge behind this 
 possibility, and was certainly assisted in com 
 forting itself by the very means that her young 
 friend had intended as an incentive to confess 
 ing her sin. 
 
 Meta reached Agneau's in safety, and was in 
 so much more cheerful a frame of mind that, 
 finding Frangois in some trouble at having over- 
 staid his time, and old Agneau very cross, she
 
 IOO META WALLACE, OR 
 
 volunteered to run behind the counter, and help 
 tie up the bundles, as the shop was full. Here 
 she was standing, very eager and intent upon 
 her novel employment, when a familiar voice 
 startled her. 
 
 "Agneau," cried a young girl, very fashion 
 ably dressed, " Agneau, give me a dollar's worth 
 of vanilla meringues ; and please be quick about 
 it, for I am in a great hurry." 
 
 Meta looked up in amazement, as Florence 
 
 for she it was made this demand in an 
 
 t 
 
 imperious tone. 
 
 'Well, I never!" exclaimed the elder sister, 
 scornfully. " So you're here, are you ? I told 
 Felicie it wasn't worth while to worry mamma 
 with the information that you'd run off ; I knew 
 you'd turn up in some horrid place. But you'd 
 better get in the carriage, miss, and come along 
 with Nina and me. Mamma won't fancy your 
 turning shop-girl, I can tell you." 
 
 Meta hurriedly threw down her bundles, and 
 called Francois, while Florry, in a supercilious 
 manner, lectured the boy for allowing her sister 
 to wait in the store. 
 
 " I shall certainly inform mamma of your pre 
 sumption," she said, grandly. 
 
 Franois did not reply, fearing to get his em 
 ployer into trouble ; and after some delay in fill-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. IOI 
 
 ing Florry's order, during which he was soundly 
 lectured by that indignant young woman, the 
 two sisters left the store. 
 
 Meta's drive home with Nina Appleton and 
 Florry was not very agreeable, as she was un 
 mercifully quizzed about her recent employ 
 ment at Agneau's ; but she bore it without 
 much display of temper. 
 
 Felicie was in a very bad humor when she 
 saw the truant. Though greatly relieved at her 
 safe return, she was exceedingly wroth at having 
 lost her evening's airing, through the state of 
 anxiety she had been in from the time Meta's 
 loss was discovered until she was seen comfort 
 ably seated beside Thomas on the box of her 
 mamma's stylish turn-out. 
 
 It is fortunate Meta's knowledge of French 
 was limited, as a very torrent of invectives was 
 poured out in that language as soon as Felicie 
 had her safe in the nursery. The child had 
 great power of control over her tongue, which 
 was termed obstinacy by those in authority, and 
 often listened to a long harangue from the maid 
 without indulging in Florry's accomplishment, 
 " answering back." One reason of this singular 
 virtue was her unusual consciousness of her 
 short-comings. When once her conscience took 
 sides against her, she endured chastenings very
 
 IO2 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 humbly ; and perhaps, too, the knowledge that 
 rigid silence added more to Felicie's discomfit 
 ure than impertinence enabled her sometimes 
 to submit. 
 
 On the evening in question, the advent of a 
 visitor from the far West, who had once been in 
 Mr. Wallace's employ, procured for the little 
 girl the rare luxury of taking her place at the 
 sumptuous seven o'clock dinner. Felicie, de 
 spite her sound lecture, was diligently dressing 
 her to go down-stairs, and assuring her that it 
 was of no use trying to make anything look 
 well on a child who had such queer tastes. 
 Meta didn't care much about this, however ; she 
 was wishing she dared disobey mamma's or 
 ders, and spend her evening up-stairs. Though 
 she dearly loved to dine with her parents and 
 the lively visitors they generally had, and did 
 not disdain the delicious desserts, the idea of 
 meeting a stranger, who had asked especially 
 to see the children, made her very bashful and 
 averse to going down. " Mr. Wallace had not 
 gone to Bellevue," Felicie informed her, after 
 some urging. " The gentleman down-stairs was 
 a ver' great friend and ver' handsome ; " to 
 gether with much more that the child did not 
 heed. It was a great relief to know that papa 
 had not gone, after all ; for it helped to convince
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 1 03 
 
 her willing conscience that she had made much 
 ado about nothing. After some hesitation in the 
 hall, Meta entered the drawing-room shyly ; but 
 no one noticed her at all. Mr. and Mrs. Wal 
 lace were gayly chatting with a handsome mid 
 dle-aged stranger ; and Florry, seated on a di 
 van by her mother, was very much absorbed in 
 the conversation. 
 
 Meta sat down as far from the group as pos 
 sible, and would never have proclaimed herself 
 had not the last bell sounded and the group at 
 the fire arisen. The stranger stopped in front of 
 the little shy figure as they passed. 
 
 " And who is this little woman, Wallace ? " he 
 asked, laying his hand on the curly head. " It 
 makes a man feel old to see his years so well 
 marked in the growth of the rising generation." 
 
 " This is Meta, our youngest," said her father, 
 smiling encouragingly in the blushing face, 
 while Mrs. Wallace telegraphed that she was to 
 take her finger out of her mouth. Not compre 
 hending her mamma's mysterious signs and 
 nods, poor Meta only hung on more resolutely 
 to the friendly finger, the biting of which seemed 
 to endow her with sufficient fortitude to stand 
 her mamma's frowns. 
 
 Mrs. W'allace, with a sigh of chagrin at the 
 child's awkwardness, looked mournfully in the
 
 IO4 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 gentleman's face, and, laying her hand caress 
 ingly on Florry's shoulder, exclaimed, half- 
 piteously: 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Ascher, there is always a black 
 sheep in the flock ! My sweet Florence " 
 
 But Mrs. Wallace's observations were cut 
 short. At mention of the stranger's name, 
 Meta's head was suddenly jerked from the kind 
 hand that patted the curls, and its owner made 
 an unceremonious departure from the room. 
 Mr. Ascher laughed gleefully, but the parents 
 frowned. 
 
 " Meta is so awkward and queer," sighed the 
 mother, apologetically ; but Mr. Ascher, who 
 seemed to enjoy the episode, politely smiled. 
 
 " Mere childish bashf ulness, dear madam ; 
 don't trouble yourself to excuse her, I beg ! 
 Indeed, I enjoy, in this too advanced age, a 
 little old-fashioned exhibition of the whims of 
 childhood " 
 
 " That's not half as bad as what she did this 
 afternoon," interrupted Florry, who was no re 
 specter of age, and seldom allowed any one to 
 finish a sentence. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear, and what was that ? " in 
 quired Mr. Ascher, as he gave the " white 
 sheep "of the family a searching gaze. 
 
 " Why, she was actually waiting on Agneau's
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. IO5 
 
 customers," returned Florry, immensely impor 
 tant ; " and I- had to lecture that Frangois for 
 his presumption, for Meta didn't seem to think 
 it was anything at all ! " 
 
 " Waiting on Agneau's customers ? " repeated 
 the mortified mother ; " surely, Florry, you must 
 be mistaken." 
 
 But Florence vouched for the truth, and re 
 lated the incident, in her usual style of exag 
 geration, on the way to the dining-room. Mr. 
 Ascher was infinitely amused, and drew the 
 "white sheep" out to her heart's content; but, 
 observing that his host and hostess were by no 
 means entertained with Florry's revelations, he 
 politely turned the conversation into other 
 channels, though he would have taken great 
 interest in Meta's idiosyncrasies and her sis 
 ter's knowledge of the world. 
 
 Meanwhile our little friend, all unconscious 
 of the storm brewing, sat at the head of the 
 stairs, rocking herself to and fro disconsolately, 
 and repeating the name of "Joseph Ascher "'in 
 a most distressed tone of voice. Her late cheer 
 fulness had vanished at sound of that name ; 
 the signature, in well-known manly characters, 
 at the end of the paper she had unfortunately 
 swallowed, loomed up before her in all its 
 former terrors, and brought Johnny's advice
 
 IO6 MET A WALLACE. 
 
 painfully to mind. She did not dare to go down 
 again with the consciousness that mamma was 
 very angry, nor did she like going without her 
 dinner ; but of the two evils she chose the 
 latter, and sat on the steps until Florry came 
 up to bed, with the consoling advice to " pre 
 pare for the worst scolding she had ever had in 
 her life, for papa and mamma were dreadfully 
 angry." 
 
 Used as she was to Florry's exaggerations, 
 Meta made no reply; but she asked, with a 
 faint hope that her ears had deceived her: 
 " What is the gentleman's name, Flo ? " 
 " Why, papa's old clerk, Mr. Joseph Ascher ; 
 he is ever so rich, and I heard mamma say that 
 papa had put off his visit to Bellevue, just to 
 see him, for he is a great favorite with both of 
 them. So you're in another fix, you see ! " 
 
 When Meta knelt down to say her prayers, 
 the first petition that came unconsciously from 
 her heart was: 
 
 " O Lord, take me to heaven with Johnny ! " 
 But Meta, like many grown people, would 
 have been sorry to have her prayer answered ; 
 and God, who " knoweth whereof we have need " 
 before we ask him, has not ordained to answer, 
 save in his own way and in his own time.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 O Meta's surprise and relief, nothing 
 was said of her naughtiness the follow 
 ing day ; and, indeed, the whole week 
 passed, and the predicted scolding never came. 
 During this time, Mr. Ascher took great notice 
 of the shy, wondering child, whose earnest dark 
 eyes were so often fixed wistfully on his face. 
 He was so affectionate and entertaining, took 
 her to walk and drive so kindly, and was alto 
 gether so charming, that Meta's fears gradually 
 vanished. She ate his bon-bons with relish, and 
 was growing to be unreserved in his society, 
 when one day she received a summons to her 
 father's library, and felt sure that at last her 
 sentence was coming. Tremblingly she entered 
 the room, where her father and mother, with 
 their visitor, were awaiting her. They made 
 
 (107)
 
 IO8 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 room for her at the fire as she came shyly for 
 ward, and her father advanced encouragingly to 
 take her hand. After some commonplace con 
 versation, Mr. Wallace began, very gravely : 
 
 " My daughter, are you quite old enough to 
 make a choice ? " 
 
 " Let me put the case, sir," interrupted Mr. 
 Ascher, hastily ; " I fancy I shall be successful 
 with my young friend." 
 
 Mr. Wallace smiled an assent, and Meta, won 
 dering what it could all mean, was drawn over 
 to Mr. Ascher's side, as he bade her look in his 
 face, and listen attentively. 
 
 " Will you go with me, and be my little girl ? " 
 he asked, anxiously, yet very kindly. 
 
 " Forever ? " 
 
 The tone of her voice, as she said this, look 
 ing the while in the tender gray eyes, touched 
 them all. Tearfully, she turned a beseeching 
 face to her parents. 
 
 " O papa and mamma! &Q you want me to go 
 away and be his little girl, when I'm your very 
 own ? " she sobbed. " I don't mean to be so 
 bad ; indeed, I try not ! Oh, don't send me 
 away from you " 
 
 Before she could finish her sentence, Mr 
 Wallace, with a reproachful glance at his wife, 
 pressed the poor little one to his heart, as he 
 answered, with emotion :
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. ICK) 
 
 " No, my daughter, you shall never leave us, 
 save of your own free will ! Mr. Aschef has 
 put his case strongly. He only wants to take 
 you with him to Europe, to stay several years ; 
 and has promised you so many advantages that 
 your mamma and I know not what answer to 
 make. But you have decided yourself, my little 
 girl, and you have only to tell Mr. Ascher that 
 you will not go." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said the determined Mr. Ascher, 
 as Meta's joyful eyes were raised anxiously to 
 his, half fearful that her decision had estranged 
 him. He walked over to the window, visibly 
 annoyed, and the trio at the fire were very silent. 
 Mr. Wallace was reproaching himself for the 
 little he had ever done to endear him to this lov 
 ing nature, which clung, despite coldness and 
 neglect, to the natural ties he had ignored ; while 
 his wife, touched and softened more than she 
 cared to show, was yet reflecting on the great 
 advantages lost to the perplexing child by what 
 she termed a "foolish sentimentality." Poor 
 Meta was, meanwhile, doing her utmost not to 
 cry, as she felt such a longing to do. 
 
 Mr. Ascher presently returned, and, standing 
 with his back to the fire, looked down in the 
 timid face. 
 
 " My little lady," he said, coaxingly, " do you
 
 IIO META WALLACE, OR 
 
 know what you are refusing ? I dare say New 
 York suits you well enough in its way, but just 
 think of all the nice things you could have with 
 me ! jewels and dresses, and the finest dolls and 
 playthings. You've read about Paris, haven't 
 you ? Did you ever hear of the big stores where 
 the dolls have all sorts of fine clothes made, 
 just like your extravagant New York ladies? 
 You can see the world, and yet come back 
 whenever you get tired of me. Is it a bargain ? 
 Come!" 
 
 Meta looked up into the kind face in a 
 troubled sort of way. 
 
 "I don't care for all these things," she an 
 swered, stoutly ; " mamma gives me heaps of 
 clothes, and I am tired playing with dolls. You 
 can't give me my mamma way off there ! " And 
 here, obeying a sudden impulse, she rah and 
 buried her face on Mrs. Wallace's shoulder, 
 throwing her arms around her mother's neck. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace stroked her hair, but said 
 nothing. In very truth she was sorely per 
 plexed ; for Meta had so long been a source of 
 anxiety and mortification that, though not de 
 void of maternal feeling, she had hailed Mr. 
 Ascher's unexpected offer to "educate" and 
 leave his large fortune to the " little black sheep " 
 as a relief from her perplexity. All the scru-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. Ill 
 
 pies of motherhood were silenced with the 
 plausible brilliancy of her child's future should 
 she really accept the liberal offer; and she 
 would have accepted it, at once, had not her 
 husband strenuously insisted upon referring the 
 matter to his little daughter. Though fearing a 
 scene, she had yielded to his wish, but thought 
 it a very absurd proceeding, as the advantages 
 were so great that she had no scruple in forc 
 ing the child's compliance. She had already 
 formed a plan for Meta's removal from home, 
 when Mr. Ascher's surprising offer was made ; 
 and had only put off the execution thereof from 
 that spirit of procrastination that had governed 
 her when anything disagreeable was to be done. 
 Believing that to yield was weakness, she did 
 not return Meta's suffocating caresses, though 
 she "felt her firmness give way under the un 
 looked-for evidence of the child's ardent love. 
 
 Meanwhile, as her curly head rested on her 
 mother's shoulder, very incongruous thoughts 
 were flitting through the young brain. 
 
 " Oh, what shall I do ? " sHe mused, sadly. 
 " If mamma wants me to go, I just can't help 
 myself at all. Oh, I wish I hadn't been so 
 wicked that she wants to send me away ! It 
 must be mighty nice to travel all around with a 
 good old gentleman, who wants to give you all
 
 112 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 kinds of nice things. I wonder what he likes 
 me for ? Florry says I am so queer, and I know 
 I don't seem a bit good. I expect Paris is very 
 delightful ; Francois says the people eat bon 
 bons every day. I wonder if that's the place 
 where the children eat macaroni in the street. 
 I think I'd like to tell Mr; Ascher all about that 
 paper. If I did it while we were out on the 
 ocean, maybe he wouldn't scold a bit ; because 
 I'm sure I'd be seasick. Oh, dear ! I wonder if 
 he could help me to be good ? " 
 
 As this thought came uppermost, she sud 
 denly raised her head, and looked at him at 
 tentively. 
 
 "Wallace," cried Mr. Ascher, catching the 
 doubtful glance, " we will leave this choice for a 
 day or two, to let the little brain take it all in ! 
 And now, do you tell her the alternative, that 
 she may judge fairly." 
 
 Mrs. Wallace, very much relieved at the idea, 
 gave Meta a letter she had held in her hand, 
 and bade her open and read it. Wonderingly, 
 the child obeyed*, and read as follows : 
 
 Glencffve Hall, January . 
 MY DEAR ALICIA: 
 
 I will very gladly take charge of your young daughter for 
 any length of time you may desire. With us she will only find 
 a plain, comfortable home, but there are many educational ad-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. \\^ 
 
 vantages which I am sure will outweigh the absence of those 
 luxuries to which she has been accustomed. For the terms 
 of my school, I enclose a circular. Mrs. Leslie bids me send 
 her kind greetings, and to assure you that she will do all in 
 her power to Supply your place. I trust you will decide to 
 send the child, as I feel assured of the advantage to her of 
 good country fare, and freedom from those restraints which it 
 is impossible to avoid in your position. Awaiting your decis 
 ion in the matter, 
 
 Your affectionate kinsman, 
 
 SIDNEY LESLIE. 
 
 Meta read the letter in silence, though her 
 cheek flushed, and the sensitive mouth quivered 
 warningly. Mrs. Wallace allowed a passion of 
 tears to exhaust itself in her arms, and then, 
 telling Meta that she need not decide just then, 
 led her from the room gently. 
 
 In the entry she met Felicie, who at once 
 took her captive up-stairs, where Florence 
 awaited the result of the long conference in a 
 high state of curiosity. Meta was entertained 
 with an enlivening account of the delights 
 awaiting her if she went with Mr. Ascher to 
 Europe, and the horrors of ar " poking country 
 school," as Florry dignified it. 
 
 " You are a little goose, Meta," she said, with 
 
 her usual candor. " I wish I had known Mr. 
 
 Ascher's tastes better. Why, it's worth playing 
 
 shop-girl, to have such a rich man wanting to 
 
 8
 
 114 META WALLACE. 
 
 give you all his money! You'd be worth even 
 more than papa, I reckon, and oceans more than 
 poor me. Why on earth don't you go, child ? 
 You won't find that horrible Leslie school any 
 great things, I tell you ! " 
 
 " But then you know, Florry, mamma may let 
 me stay at home altogether " 
 
 " But who would stay poking at home when 
 they could go to Paris, and wear kid gloves in 
 the morning, and eat biscuits glacts whenever 
 they felt like it?" 
 
 " I don't want to go to Paris, for I don't know 
 anybody there ! I'd rather " 
 
 " Live and die a savage ! I believe you 
 would. All I can say is, you're a great little 
 goose, and I hope you'll find congenial society 
 at old Father Leslie's ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HE week allotted to Meta for a decision 
 passed off quickly, and yet she had 
 never been so thoughtful before in her 
 short life. Anxiety to follow in Johnny's diffi 
 cult footsteps fought hard with the alluring 
 visions of future greatness held up daily by the 
 eloquent Felicie, and made very substantial by 
 the present luxuries and privileges Mr. Ascher's 
 offer had brought her. Whenever she felt in 
 clined to thrust away the temptation of being 
 petted and spoiled, and thought of Johnny's very 
 different aspirations, the disagreeable reflection 
 that she was deciding between Europe and a 
 boarding-school made her resolutions to give it 
 all up very wavering and uncertain. In a long, 
 serious talk with mamma, she was made to see 
 that, failing to go with Mr. Ascher, she was con- 
 
 (115)
 
 Il6 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 demning herself to a far more trying separation 
 from all she loved ; and this went far toward 
 inclining her to what seemed the evident wish 
 of the household. For the first time in her life, 
 she was the object of special interest to the 
 whole family; and even among her sister's 
 friends she found herself suddenly elevated 
 from the '' queer little girl, who actually waited 
 in Agneau's shop," to " that fortunate child of 
 the Wallace's, whom, they say, Mr. Ascher is 
 going to leave his millions to." Even Fdlicie 
 changed, and never attempted to thwart or 
 scold; while Florry lost no opportunity of hold 
 ing forth on the superior good fortune that had 
 fallen to her sister's lot. 
 
 Meta found it very pleasant to drive about 
 with Mr. Ascher, and partake of the nice 
 lunches and boxes of candy v/hich his partiality 
 provided. She enjoyed, too, her evenings in 
 the drawing-room, where she saw so many funny 
 people, and heard all about the great world out 
 side. She began to feel that there was some 
 thing altogether delightful in having somebody 
 anxious to adopt her, and the whole household 
 so gracious and * condescending; she could but 
 think of the probable dolefulness of her cousin's 
 school, in contrast to all this, and it had its 
 natural effect.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 Mr. Aschcr's offer .had been made known to 
 her on Thursday. On the following Sabbath, it 
 occurred to the little girl as the quiet day, 
 bringing a momentary cessation of her pleas 
 ures, reminded her of more serious things to 
 ask her kind friend something about Johnny's 
 ideas of duty, and discover if he might not help 
 her to find the gates of the Golden City. As 
 they walked along Fifth avenue on the way to 
 church, she suddenly thought of this requisite 
 in the ne.w friendship, and glanced up in the 
 gentleman's face, to see if he looked like John 
 ny's description of one who is "reaching for 
 ward unto those things that are above." The 
 expression of the face puzzled her, and she was 
 not encouraged in the hope that he was any 
 thing like Johnny's pattern when, during the 
 church service, Mr. Ascher never once opened 
 his book, but sat with his arms over the back of 
 the pew, making evident mental comments on 
 the people near him ; nor later, when he turned 
 to look at the pretty faces in the choir, after a 
 particularly fine chorus ; nor when, during the 
 sermon, he examined critically, with his walking 
 cane, the end of his highly p"olished boot, and 
 hid a yawn behind.his gloved hand. 
 
 ^" I know Johnny would never behave so in 
 church," thought Mcta, as she made her exami-
 
 Il8 META WAI. LACE, OR 
 
 nation of her unconscious friend ; " I am afraid 
 it's very bad in Mr. Ascher to look behind him, 
 and yawn so often ; yet lies good, if anybody 
 is." 
 
 At last the grand organ pealed out the final 
 aria, and the congregation arose. When they 
 were outside on the crowded pavement, Meta, 
 after a long silence, suddenly addressed her 
 companion. 
 
 " Mr. Ascher," she said, timidly, " do you 
 know the way to heaven ? " 
 
 Her friend, startled, looked curiously in the 
 earnest, upturned face. 
 
 " Why do you ask, Meta ? " 
 
 " Oh, just because I think it's a very hard 
 thing to understand, sir ; and Johnny is going 
 so soon that I want to find somebody else who 
 knows the way." 
 
 "And who is Johnny? And what does he 
 know about heaven?" asked Mr. Ascher, 
 smiling down on her. 
 
 " Why, he is the poor little sick boy, that God 
 has promised a new body! I forgot I had never 
 told you, but I've been so busy since you came, 
 you see." And she forthwith gave an account 
 of Johnny : his hopes, his cheerfulness, his long 
 sickness, and the beautiful things he had told 
 her about the spiritual body to which he looked
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. I IQ 
 
 forward with such confidence. " T just don't 
 understand it all," she said, confidentially, "but 
 Johnny is perfectly sure. He isn't a bit afraid 
 of dying, and going down in the dark ground. 
 I would be ; wouldn't you, Mr. Ascher ? " 
 
 But Mr. Ascher did not reply. His face was 
 quite turned away from those eager eyes, and 
 Meta, too earnest in her enthusiastic love for 
 Johnny, did not stop to heed his silence, but 
 continued her artless story. 
 
 " I asked him to tell me how to be good, too, 
 and he did say a great many beautiful things ; 
 but I think it's mighty hard to believe what you 
 can't see, don't you ? " 
 
 "Very hard," assented her listener, his face 
 still turned away. 
 
 " Then you don't think you could help me, 
 do you ? " she asked, doubtfully ; " I mean, if I 
 went with you, and staid with you until I grew 
 to be a woman, could you help me to find out 
 what Johnny means, and how he can be so glad 
 to die, when I don't think I could without being 
 so afraid ? Oh, if you only could help me, I 
 would so like to go with you to Europe." 
 
 The earnest tone made Mr. Ascher wince. 
 He looked steadfastly down in the face, raised 
 beseechingly to his, and his heart failed him. 
 Could he dare to chill back these longings with
 
 I2O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 his own cold skepticism ? to tell the child, who 
 had so strangely interested him and completely 
 won his love, that he had nothing but the 
 world's wealth to offer her, no treasure laid up 
 beyond the reach of moth or rust ? Man of the 
 world as he was, and long used to rejecting 
 faith in God as well as in human nature, he had 
 not the courage to answer those searching ques 
 tions with the scoffing laugh, and proclaim his 
 unbelief and ungodliness. But Meta gathered 
 something of the truth from his silent, sorrow 
 ful gaze, and instantly a cloud fell upon the ex 
 pressive face. Fearing to encounter the disap 
 pointed eyes, Mr. Ascher set himself to work 
 to change the current of her thoughts ; but she 
 felt he was evading her, and a feeling of loneli 
 ness and regret prevented the ready speech, 
 and made her, for once, a silent listener to the 
 entertaining stories he told so well. 
 
 The feeling of intense disappointment made 
 her very grave all through the quiet evening; 
 and, though she did not leave Mr. Ascher's side, 
 and tried to take the same interest in his charm 
 ing flow of talk, she could not resist the convic 
 tion that, kind and good as he undoubtedly was, 
 her friend was rejecting the one only way by 
 which he could follow in Johnny's difficult foot 
 steps, and enter into the joy of the Lord.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEENS 121 
 
 As the family laughed and chatted over their 
 coffee, next morning, the dining-room door was 
 suddenly burst open, and Meta rushed impetu 
 ously in. 
 
 " Oh, mamma," she cried, breathlessly, 
 " Bridget is up-stairs ! She has come for me 
 to go and see poor Johnny! He's dying, she 
 says, and asked for me. Oh, I- am so very 
 sorry, mamma ! " 
 
 The child's head was laid on the mother's 
 shoulder, and she burst into a passion of tears, 
 sobbing convulsively as she finished the sad 
 intelligence. Mrs. Wallace was startled and 
 somewhat provoked. Would Mr. Ascher ap 
 prove these plebeian tastes ? 
 
 " Where is Bridget ? " she asked, in some per 
 plexity how to act. "This is the third or fourth 
 time I have been deceived into believing the 
 boy about to die. I'd better inquire into the 
 facts, Meta ; you are so very impetuous, remem 
 ber!" 
 
 She arose to leave the room, looking very 
 uncompromising ; but before she reached the 
 door, Meta seized Mr. Ascher's hands, and 
 eagerly implored him to " beg mamma." 
 
 " I will go with you, and be your little girl," 
 she pleaded ; " I will do anything you want, if 
 you will only make mamma say yes."
 
 122 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 "But if I don't want you to come, just for 
 Johnny's sake, what then ? " he asked, gravely. 
 
 " Oh, you know it isn't that," she returned, 
 reproachfully ; " I do love you, and want to be 
 your little friend, and to decide as mamma 
 wishes ; only I was afraid I cared too much 
 about such things. Don't make me tell you 
 now, for Bridget says we haven't much time. 
 Oh, Mr. Ascher, if you will only ask mamma 
 for me ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wallace glanced uneasily at her visitor, 
 as he hesitated an instant. 
 
 " Will you permit it ? " he asked, gravely ; 
 " Meta has told me enough to make the boy 
 quite an object of interest to me. I will accom 
 pany her if you like." 
 
 Seeing her cause so well espoused, Meta did 
 not wait for her mother's spoken consent, read 
 ing in her eyes that permission was accorded, 
 and ran out of the room in search of Bridget. 
 But the girl was already gone. She had only 
 left her brother at his repeated desire that Meta 
 should be summoned for a last good-bye, and 
 did not stay longer than was necessary to 
 deliver the message and leave the address. 
 
 When Meta returned to her mother and Mr. 
 Ascher, she found them talking of indifferent 
 subjects, and even laughing as if nothing had
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 12$ 
 
 happened. Disappointed and indignant, she 
 looked tearfully out of the window until the 
 carriage was announced, shocked that her friend 
 could so quietly hear the news of Johnny's 
 speedy departure, while she was so greatly 
 grieved. But when, during the drive, her hand 
 was tenderly drawn through Mr. Ascher's arm, 
 and held in mute expression of the sympathy 
 he did not utter, she was comforted, and was 
 encouraged to lean her head on the friendly^ 
 shoulder to hide her tears.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HE winter sunshine streamed in 
 through the open blinds, and Mrs. 
 Hale's plain room fairly glistened 
 with sunbeams. 
 
 Johnny no longer sat in the invalid chair, but 
 lay in a little cot near the fire ; his long, thin 
 hands folded quietly over the snowy counter 
 pane, and the black lashes on his poor cheek 
 making the wan, pale face still more painful to 
 see. Bridget sat at his side, wiping the moist 
 forehead tenderly, and wetting the dry lips 
 with water. Her face was inflamed with weep 
 ing, and her mouth quivered when Meta's af 
 fectionate caress recalled her from the sad task 
 of ministering for the last time to the sweet, 
 patient little sufferer she had 'so tenderly loved. 
 The opiates given for many days by the kind- 
 (124)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 12$ 
 
 hearted doctor had clouded the last hours, 
 though they had conquered the penalty of pain. 
 The boy was only conscious at intervals, suffer 
 ing comparatively little, and sleeping quietly 
 through his last mortal experience. When he 
 did arouse ftom the fas>growing stupor, it was 
 with such a smiling, grateful face, as he thanked 
 his untiring sister for some little attention, and 
 with so much of his old, cheerful buoyancy, that 
 he gave scant evidence of the near approach of 
 death. His " patient continuance in well-doing " 
 had brought already a reward of peace. 
 
 Though he had so earnestly desired to take 
 leave of his little friend, he was not conscious 
 of her coming for some time after the entrance 
 of the party. Meta had buried her face in the 
 bed-clothes, and was sobbing bitterly, when he 
 awoke from his stupor for a few moments, and 
 swallowed the stimulant that Bridget held to his 
 lips. 
 
 "Oh, poor Johnny !" cried the child, involun 
 tarily, as the fading eyes fixed themselves on 
 her face. 
 
 A glad smile lighted up the dying features. 
 
 " No, not that," he said, slowly ; " rich Johnny, 
 happy Johnny, going 4iome to his Father's king 
 dom ! O Meta, I so longed to see you once 
 more ! I want you to see that He is faithful to
 
 126 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 the end to the end ! You know the promise : 
 ' I will never, no, never, no, never forsake.' " 
 
 Meta sobbed bitterly as the faltering accents 
 reached her, and the sound of her grief seemed 
 to cast a shadow over his triumphant face. 
 
 " There," he murmured softly to himself 
 " there, there will be neither sorrow, nor crying, 
 nor any more pain ! Thanks be to God, which 
 iveth us the victory ! " 
 
 The eyes were soon half closed, and he 
 breathed quietly in a fitful slumber, again under 
 the influence of the opiate. A long silence en 
 sued, which no one cared to break. Mrs. Wal 
 lace, very uncomfortable at her near view of 
 death and eternity, most anxiously waited an 
 opportunity of rousing Meta without disturbing 
 Johnny's slumber Mr. Ascher, curious and 
 interested, was yet nervous. He had seen a 
 great many people die, but this boy's death 
 touched him strangely. After a long silence, 
 when Mrs. Wallace had at last roused Meta's 
 attention and motioned her to leave, Johnny 
 again aroused. His faculties seemed more 
 alive as the affectionate child bent over him, 
 and he smiled as he stroked her hand. 
 
 " I have something here for you," he whis 
 pered ; " something for you to keep when I am 
 gone."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. I2/ 
 
 "The Bible, dear Johnny?" 
 
 " Yes, and more besides." Feeling under his 
 pillow, feebly, he drew out a paper, written in 
 large, unformed letters. " I've had it for you a 
 long time," he said, in a low, weak voice ; " I 
 wrote it before I got so bad. Read me the 
 precious promises once more ! " 
 
 Meta took the paper, and tried to do as he 
 requested ; but her voice was too full of tears 
 for reading. Turning beseechingly to Mr. 
 Ascher, who stood near, she begged him to 
 gratify poor Johnny, and again knelt down be 
 side the cot. Mr. Ascher took the crumpled 
 sheet, and, after glancing uneasily over the con 
 tents, read out slowly the following sentences, 
 which the boy, with much labor, had written 
 from time to time, as a legacy to his little 
 friend : 
 
 " ' Come unto me, all ye that labor and are 
 heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
 
 " ' My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.' 
 
 " ' Ye would aot come unto me that ye might 
 have life.' 
 
 " ' The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from 
 all sin.' 
 
 " ' Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, 
 that will I do.' 
 
 " ' If any man thirst, let him come unto me 
 and drink.'
 
 128 META IV ALL ACE, OR 
 
 "'He that hath the Son, hath life.' . . . 
 
 " ' Jesus Christ came into the world to save 
 sinners.' 
 
 " ' Be not faithless, but believing. . . . All 
 things are possible to him that believcth.' 
 
 " ' I am the resurrection and the life : he that 
 believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall 
 he live.' 
 
 " ' He that cometh unto me, I will in no wise 
 cast out.' " 
 
 There were many more sentences ; but before 
 Mr. Ascher had read these, Johnny had dropped 
 off in another doze ; and as he observed it, he 
 handed the paper to Meta, and walked away. 
 
 " Hidden from the wise and prudent, yet re 
 vealed unto babes," thought Mr. Ascher, uncon 
 sciously condemning himself out of the Book 
 whose claims he had so often and ingeniously 
 disputed. " After all, is it not better to have 
 this faith and die deceived, than live without 
 hope, scoffing, faithless, yet condemned by the 
 lips of innocent inexperience, and made to feel 
 the fallacy of human judgment by the best ref 
 utation in the world a dying bed made full of 
 glory ? Woe is me, if I do aught to implant 
 my miserable, self-reliant pride in that sweet, 
 faithful soul ! " 
 
 Meta, at a motion from her mamma, kissed
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 1 2Q 
 
 the poor wasted hands, and whispered a tearful 
 good-bye to Johnny ; but the dull ears heard 
 not. 
 
 Then they quietly stole from the room, fol 
 lowed by Mrs. Hale, who wished to see her 
 visitors down-stairs; but Mrs. Wallace stopped 
 her in the entry. The good woman was very 
 sorrowful as she spoke of the child's goodness 
 and the loss he would be to her lonely life. 
 
 " I never had child of my own, madam," she 
 sighed, "and this poor lad has been like my 
 own flesh anc} blood. Bless the boy ! he's been 
 a comfort and a help to me, in truth." 
 
 " Has he suffered much ? " 
 
 "O ma'am, the like of it I never saw before;' 
 but he's bore it well, poor lamb ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wallace took out her purse, and handed 
 the woman a bill. 
 
 " To purchase what he may need," she said, 
 as the nurse looked at her inquiringly. 
 
 " Ah ! he'll not need much, nor long," sighed 
 Mrs. Hale, sadly, as she gratefully thanked 
 Mrs. Wallace, and went back to her vigils in 
 the sick-room. 
 
 Once more in the fresh, keen air, Mrs. Wal 
 lace's spirits revived. She had been very much 
 saddened and subdued by her visit to the dying 
 boy, and, though pride had restrained her from 
 9
 
 I3O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 * 
 
 obeying the impulse she felt, of saying a few 
 cheery words to the young journeyer, she had 
 not felt less tender pity for him in her heart. 
 
 But, though touched and impressed by the 
 scenes she had witnessed, her nature did not 
 long retain serious impressions ; and, after a 
 few moments of sober thought, she laughed 
 and chatted with Mr. Ascher as though noth 
 ing unusual had occurred. 
 
 Meta was very silent during the drive home, 
 clutching Johnny's paper in her hand, as if 
 some one were about to run away with her leg 
 acy, and pondering in the depths of her young 
 soul the mysterious journey her little friend was 
 about to take. As they drove along, she sud 
 denly remembered that the precious gift, his 
 own time-worn Bible, had been forgotten. She 
 eagerly implored her mamma to turn back, but 
 Mrs. Wallace assured her it was quite impos 
 sible, promising to send to Bridget for the 
 book; and with this she was forced to be 
 content. 
 
 The rest of the day passed drearily enough to 
 the child, whose thoughts were all with Johnny; 
 but Mr. Ascher, seeing her preoccupied state 
 of mind, took her, after luncheon, for one of his 
 famous walks, and was so loving and kind that 
 she felt comforted. It was during this walk
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 that she confided her ignorance of the precise 
 meaning of Johnny's sentences, though she 
 meant to look for every one in her Bible, when 
 she got it from Bridget. 
 
 " Johnny is one of Christ's lambs, isn't he, 
 Mr. Ascher?"she asked, as they sat together 
 in Union square. 
 
 Mr. Ascher replied, hesitatingly, " Yes, I sup 
 pose so." 
 
 At this, Meta drew out her paper, which she 
 had safely stowed away in her pocket, and be 
 gan to comment upon it in her own way : 
 
 " Do you know, sir, that Johnny wouldn't 
 change places with a king ? How can he be so 
 certain that God will give him a new body, and 
 wipe all the tears from his eyes ? Who told 
 him that everything in the Bible is true ? " 
 
 Fortunately for Mr. Ascher, Meta's questions 
 did not wait for answers, for he was at a loss 
 what to say. He could not explain the undoubt- 
 ing faith of the sick boy, which was such a puz 
 zle to him, nor could he bring himself to confess 
 to his little friend that to him these sentences 
 meant nothing and brought no convincing 
 peace. He desired much to retain his place in 
 her grateful love, yet dared not come between 
 the young soul, struggling feebly into the light 
 and knowledge of truth, and that faith so far
 
 132 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 beyond his comprehension. And so, as all he 
 could have said would only have added to her 
 perplexity by fostering doubt, he said nothing. 
 
 When Meta found that the subject so engross- 
 ingly interesting to her was distasteful to her 
 friend, she ceased to appeal to him, and sat very 
 silent and thoughtful beside him. 
 
 " Well, little one," said Mr. Ascher, at length, 
 " we must be going now. The air is too chill 
 for you, and your mamma will think I am very 
 thoughtless to keep you so long in these wintry 
 winds. Tuck your cloak well about you, and let 
 us start." 
 
 As they walked along homeward, very si 
 lently, Mr. Ascher, after a long pause, took the 
 little hand in his, and pressed it affectionately. 
 
 " Meta," he said, gravely, " I am very sorry 
 you cannot go with me to Europe, as I 
 hoped" 
 
 " But I don't know," she interrupted ; " I think 
 maybe you can help me better than anybody 
 here ! I do love you ever so much, and I want 
 to go." 
 
 " I cannot take you," he replied, sorrowfully. 
 
 " Not take me ? Oh, what have I done to 
 make you angry with poor me ? Don't you 
 want me to be your little girl ? " 
 
 " More than anything else in the world," he
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 133 
 
 said, very tenderly ; "but I shall not take you, 
 for all that. My poor little one, I have a sad 
 story to tell you, but you must listen and for 
 give me. Meta, I am an unbelieving, worldly 
 man, and have no hopes of that heaven you 
 are so anxious to reach. I have not the courage 
 to teach your young soul the bitter truths that 
 I have found in life, and I dare not undertake 
 to solve your doubts, when I have no faith 
 myself ! " 
 
 Mr. Ascher's voice was quite husky and un 
 like itself ; but Meta, though she felt the change, 
 never knew how much it had cost the proud 
 heart to acknowledge to innocence and trust 
 the unbelief it had never deplored till now. 
 She was a little frightened, and a great deal 
 concerned; but she could not divine his strug 
 gles, nor appreciate the motive that had bidden 
 him renounce the dearest scheme of his heart 
 through very fear. 
 
 " O sir," she exclaimed, half afraid of her 
 own temerity, " O sir, don't you love God just 
 a little ? I think we might find the way to 
 gether, if we only tried ! " 
 
 The proud, self-reliant heart was greatly 
 touched. 
 
 " My little girl," he said, brokenly, " I am an 
 old man, and have seen long years of prosperity
 
 X 34 AfETA WALLACE, OK 
 
 and worldly gain, yet I have r,evcr thanked God 
 for the least of his gifts. Do you think I could 
 instruct you, when I know nothing myself? I 
 might offeryou of this world's treasure and joys 
 but oh, my sweet child, I can never help you to 
 that faith you long to acquire, nor teach you one 
 footstep in the difficult path you desire to tread 
 - here is no hope of such things for me ! " 
 
 Meta was awed by the confession. Could it 
 be that her good, gentle, benevolent friend 
 lacked the "one thing needful?" She had 
 heard Johnny read of the great truth that there 
 is but one door to the sheep-fold, and all who 
 would enter must "come in thereat;" but she 
 did not comprehend just then that neither gen 
 tleness, nor benevolence, nor all the virtues 
 availed aught unless founded on faith in that 
 Christ whose " blood cleanseth from all sin." 
 In her childish sympathy, she set herself to 
 :omfort him, unfolding, in her frank attempts at 
 consolation, that, so far as her own heart was 
 oncerned, she would gladly decide to accom- 
 pany him ; and revealing, too, by her confession 
 f all her struggles, that, though groping in 
 twihght shadows, the precious seed had taken 
 deep root in her heart. 
 
 Mr. Ascher had never been so tempted. Her 
 great tenderness and sympathy for his misfor-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 135 
 
 tune in not being able to believe, and the warm 
 affection so apparent in everything she said, 
 made it very hard to thrust out from his lonely 
 life this bright, happy child-nature, which he 
 felt would influence him to good. But he had 
 already decided the limit of his power, and re 
 sisted the yearnings he felt to take her to his 
 heart, to be his one treasure among his kind, 
 his own precious ewe lamb. Though it was 
 very easy to convince the world that the advan 
 tages he could offer transcended any scruples 
 he might have, yet in his inmost soul he knew 
 better. Her lot had snares and pitfalls enough ; 
 she should not be tried beyond her strength by 
 such a right of the world and its pleasures as 
 his wealth could procure her. He would not 
 offer temptations ; he dared not add a feather's 
 weight to the struggling earth-bound spirit 
 which so pined and longed to be free.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 REAT was the astonishment of his 
 host and hostess when Mr. Ascher 
 announced his determination to leave 
 the city at once, and declined the guardian 
 ship of the child, which he had been so very 
 eager to assume. 
 
 " I owe you an explanation and apology," he 
 said, regretfully, as Mrs. Wallace did not attempt 
 to hide her annoyance ; " I am exceedingly self- 
 reproached for ever making the offer. The 
 child's visible reluctance and my own sense of 
 incompetency have decided me to decline the 
 charge of my sweet little Meta. I trust to hear 
 of her well-doing from time to time, and, as I 
 am sensible how very vacillating, and even in 
 excusable, I must appear, I beg you will allow 
 me to settle upon Meta, at once, such share of 
 (136)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 137 
 
 my property as she would have received had all 
 gone as I desired. Pray do not add to my re 
 gret by a refusal ! " 
 
 ' But this proposition Mr. Wallace instantly 
 and coldly rejected. " He had sufficient of his 
 own to make ample provision for Meta," he 
 assured Mr. Ascher, pointedly, "and was sorry 
 he had ever countenanced the idea of separa 
 tion." 
 
 The change in his host's manner was too 
 marked not to be felt by Mr. Ascher; but, ac 
 knowledging inwardly the justice of Mr. Wal 
 lace's chagrin, he proceeded to inform them of 
 his real reason for withdrawing his petition: 
 "that further intercourse with the child had 
 brought him face to face with such purity of 
 soul, and such desire after holiness, that he 
 felt he was no fit guardian for such a nature, 
 and he dared not undertake the responsibility." 
 There was marked incredulity on both faces 
 as he said this; Mr. Wallace giving him credit 
 for some sinister motive, and Mrs. Wallace be- 
 lievmg that Meta had herself destroyed her 
 fortunes by some of her wild and eccentric 
 
 ways. 
 
 Feeling that courteous unexpressed doubt 
 was latent in the manners of both his friends, 
 Mr. Ascher took leave, believing it would be
 
 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 more agreeable to all parties if he took up his 
 quarters at a hotel. Meta was very much sur 
 prised and full of sorrow when she learned that 
 it was all over, and Mr. Ascher did not wisli 
 to take her, after all. She kissed him good-bye, 
 after making him promise to come back after 
 lunch the next day, for a drive in Central Park, 
 and she watched the black beaver on its way 
 down the street, until a blinding mist of tears 
 quite hid her friend from view ; then, running 
 up-stairs to the nursery, she threw herself on 
 the bed to cry out all her miserable feelings 
 alone. 
 
 It was not long before she experienced the 
 cost of being a little "dethroned queen." Now 
 that there was no prospect of her going to Paris, 
 and a very decided certainty that she would 
 soon be at Mr. Leslie's school, she learned the 
 truth of the proverb, "A miss is as good as 
 a mile." Mr. Wallace having set the phrase 
 going, it became a nursery lullaby from Felicie 
 and Florry, that " Mr. Ascher was very imper 
 tinent," and his offer an unheard-of insult to a 
 " man of papa's means." Meta angrily defended 
 her friend from the ill-natured criticisms that 
 now fell to his lot, but she was more chafed 
 and fretted with her teasing room-mates than 
 she had ever been before.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 139 
 
 Precisely at four o'clock on the next after 
 noon, Mr. Ascher, true to his promise, drove up 
 to the door for the promised drive ; and Meta 
 was in a flutter of excitement, keeping up. an 
 incessant flow of talk from the time they left 
 until they returned at sundown. It would be 
 tedious to relate all that occurred during that 
 drive, for many serious subjects were discussed, 
 and many promises made for the future. Meta 
 was much grieved to learn that Mr. Ascher 
 had taken passage for Liverpool in a steamer 
 that would leave next day, and that this was 
 the last she would see of her good friend for 
 some years to come, as he designed remaining 
 abroad an indefinite time. He did not even 
 promise her many letters, confessing, with a 
 rueful face, that he hated to write and had al 
 ways been a very bad correspondent ; so Meta 
 drew a long sigh as she thought of this intermi 
 nable absence that promised so little, and re 
 gretted intensely that she had ever refused to 
 go; for had she not done so, there would have 
 been no separation, and she would have pleased 
 everybody, as well as herself. But it was too 
 late to regret, now. 
 
 Just before the carriage turned into Thirty- 
 fifth street, Mr. Ascher handed her a small 
 paper parcel, tied with a cord, and requested
 
 I4O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 that she would see what he had brought her as 
 a lasting reminder of his visit and friendship. 
 She drew off her gloves and untied the bundle 
 eagerly, and as she did so, a plain little book, 
 showing the marks of long usage, fell in her 
 hands : it was Johnny's Bible. She looked up, 
 reproachfully : 
 
 " O Mr. Ascher," she said, in a grieved tone, 
 " you have been to see Johnny, and never told 
 me! I had so many things to ask you about 
 him ; but it's too late now, for we're almost at 
 home." 
 
 " Yes, I have been to see Johnny," he replied, 
 " and I have much to relate of my visit ; but I 
 did not wish our last drive together to be more 
 sad than our parting has made it, so I have pur 
 posely waited to speak of your friend. Here 
 we are, at home, sure enough, little one ! You 
 must wait until evening to ask those questions. 
 Come, let me take your book and help you 
 out ! " 
 
 He spoke hurriedly, as if afraid of being ques 
 tioned, and Meta followed him into the house 
 without gratifying her longing desire to hear 
 everything that was to be told. When they 
 entered the drawing-room, they found it dimly 
 lighted and deserted ; Mrs. Wallace had not yet 
 made her appearance, and Florry was out. Mr.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. \^\ 
 
 Ascher led Meta to a sofa, sat down beside her, 
 and took her hand in both of his. 
 
 " My child," he said, tenderly, " I am going 
 away from you to-morrow, and perhaps it may 
 be forever; at least, it will be years before I 
 return. Tell me now, while we are safe from 
 interruption, are you willing to make me a 
 promise?" 
 
 " Yes, anything you ask ; only I am so very, 
 very sorry you must leave me ! O Mr. Ascher, 
 I have not many friends ; dorit go ! " 
 
 " But I could do you no good if I staid," he 
 said, gently. " Believe me, dear Meta, that I 
 value your friendship quite as highly as if you 
 were not a child, and it is a great trial to me to 
 place any obstacle to this pleasant intercourse ; 
 but my future is fixed, so far as this residence 
 abroad is concerned. There are many good 
 reasons that decided me to leave this country, 
 though I will not tell them now ; and all my 
 arrangements have been made. Else, do you 
 know, little girl, I think I would be too great a 
 coward to go off and live alone, thrusting aside 
 my sunbeam ? But to my promise ! Will you, 
 when you have learned to follow Johnny's way 
 will you come to me then, and help me to find 
 it ? Or, if you cannot come, shall I return to 
 you?"
 
 142 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 "Oh, yes, a thousand times!" she cried, joy 
 ously, as if it would be an easy thing to find the 
 narrow way. " Then you will come back soon ? " 
 
 " I hope so," he smiled. " I trust you will 
 not be long groping after the truth ; and the 
 sooner you find it, you know, the sooner we 
 meet. One thing more ! Give me one of those 
 chubby hands a moment! Here is a little ring, 
 very plain and inoffensive ; yet if you look in 
 side, you will find a word that means a very 
 great deal. Here ! let me slip it on, and do you 
 never take it off, Meta, unless your fingers grow 
 so much that it can't be worn. I have even 
 provided against that, however, by getting it 
 rather too large ; so you must promise to wear 
 it " 
 
 "Indeed I will," she interrupted, eagerly; 
 "and when one finger grows big, I can easily 
 wear it on another." 
 
 " Just so," he said, laughing, " or even have it 
 attached to a chain. Now, the word that you 
 are puzzling over, though you didn't even ask 
 to see it, is ' Mizpah.' Don't ask me what it 
 means ! You must look in Johnny's legacy for 
 that. And now, have you nothing to ask about 
 him, after all ? " 
 
 " Ah ! you know I have," she said, reproach 
 fully, after thanking him earnestly for the
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 143 
 
 parting gift. Then ensued a tide of questions, 
 which he found it difficult to answer : " Whether 
 Johnny talked much, or if the doctor had made 
 him any better ; and wouldn't Mr. Ascher beg 
 mamma, before he left, to let her go again to 
 see him, if he lingered long ? " 
 
 At this petition, he looked into the pleading 
 face sorrowfully, and did not answer. 
 
 " He is dead ! " she cried, a sudden convic 
 tion of the cause "of his silence overwhelming 
 her. 
 
 Mr. Ascher bowed his head in token of the 
 truth. 
 
 " Tell me all about him poor Johnny ! " she 
 said, bursting into tears. " Oh, was he fright 
 ened at last ? " 
 
 " No, my little girl, he died very peacefully 
 and quietly, a short time after I entered the 
 room. He spoke only once, and then so low 
 that I had to bend my head down to catch the 
 words." 
 
 "What did he say?" she asked, brokenly. 
 
 " Only a short sentence, but full of faith and 
 very touching," replied Mr. Ascher, turning 
 away his face ; " he said, ' He hath taken away 
 the sting.' " 
 
 There was a pause after this, for Meta was 
 sobbing bitterly, and Mr. Ascher's voice trem 
 bled too much for words.
 
 144 MKTA WALLACE, OR 
 
 At last her tearful face was raised. 
 
 " Did he send me this himself, and think of 
 me even then ? " she asked, anxiously. 
 
 "No, not just then, Meta. He had requested 
 Bridget yesterday to send you the Bible, and 
 she tells me there was a message written on the 
 fly-leaf, at his dictation, by good Mrs. Hale." 
 
 Meta very eagerly opened the Bible to read 
 his last message, but her tears blinded her, and 
 she asked Mr. Ascher's assistance ; so together 
 they read these words : 
 
 " ' Confess thy sin.' 
 
 " ' Forgetting those things that are behind, 
 press onward.' 
 
 " ' In due time ye shall reap if ye faint not.' 
 
 '"He is faithful that promised.'" 
 
 As she took in the full meaning of these sen 
 tences, Meta became very grave and disturbed. 
 To Mr. Ascher they meant nothing, and only sur 
 prised, inasmuch as the boy, out of th' e one only 
 Book with which he was familiar, had so adapted 
 its texts and familiarized them as to make them 
 easy of comprehension to a child's mind. But 
 to Meta it was a very message from the dead. 
 " Confess thy sin " had in it all the solemnity of 
 a command, and she had no doubt that it could 
 only refer to that sin she had confided to him 
 weeks ago, and which he had so earnestly ad-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 145 
 
 vised her to reveal. The words rang in her 
 ears, and entirely kept her from pondering the 
 comfort contained in the rest of the sentences. 
 She must first " confess," before she could 
 " forget those things that are behind," else 
 Johnny would not have so worded his message ; 
 and she saw her false reasoning, that had kept 
 her silent, falling silently away and leaving her 
 subdued and yet convinced, longing to take the 
 first hard step, yet fearing, as she had always 
 done, to reveal the long-hidden source of unea 
 siness, Once, as she silently reflected upon it 
 all, she half resolved to tell Mr. Ascher, and be 
 rid of it so far; but even while the good impulse 
 battled with her coward heart, her mamma came 
 into the room, followed by several ladies, and the 
 opportunity was lost. 
 
 I will not detail the conversation she had 
 with Mr. Ascher after dinner, since it was only 
 to renew their compact of friendship. The 
 drawing-room was very noisy, as Mrs. Wallace 
 had many visitors ; but this only made it easier 
 to talk apart with her friend. Florry occasion 
 ally left the larger group, and sat down near the 
 " old fogies," as she now called the pair ; but, 
 not finding the conversation very agreeable, 
 she never staid long. 
 
 And so the evening passed away, and at the 
 
 10
 
 [46 MET A WALLACE. 
 
 end came that bitter parting; for Meta clung 
 desperately to her friend's hand, and sobbed so 
 vehemently that he was half inclined to let the 
 steamship sail without him ; but it could not be. 
 Mrs. Wallace, who did not believe in sentiment, 
 even in so childish a form, said it was quite ab 
 surd for Meta to be'such a goose, and promised 
 Mr. Acher that, before he had reached the end 
 of his voyage, Meta's violent affections would be 
 transferred to her dolls. 
 
 " I am not afraid to trust her," he said, 
 kindly, as he bent over the sobbing figure to 
 press a kiss on the sweet face. 
 
 Meta caught his hand, and whispered some 
 thing. 
 
 "I promised you," she said, beseechingly. 
 " Oh, do, dear Mr. Ascher, promise me what I 
 
 ask." 
 
 " If I can," he said, fondling the curly head. 
 
 "It is only this," hesitatingly; "you know 
 you said you didn't love God. Oh, won't you 
 please try?" 
 
 " I will try," he repeated after her, as he bade 
 God bless her and keep her all the days of her 
 
 life. 
 
 This was their parting. On the morrow, Mr. 
 Ascher stood on the deck of the goodly ship, and 
 looked his last for years on his native shores.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SHADOW had fallen upon Meta's life. 
 She had learned the bitterness of part 
 ing in both its forms, and was very sad 
 and unhappy. She had stepped from the pinna 
 cle on which Mr. Ascher's regard had placed 
 her, to the old stand-point of neglected childhood 
 had gone back to her every-day existence to 
 endure teasing and snubbing, from the bright, 
 beautiful world that friendship had made for 
 her ; and even her thoughts were tinged with 
 the change. It was a very different thing to go 
 listlessly to school with Florry, or to walk with 
 Felicie, to those delightful drives with her 
 friends ; still harder and more trying, after being 
 encouraged to talk of the inner life, and made 
 to feel that she was a responsible being, to find 
 her views called " peculiar," and her childish- 
 
 (147)
 
 148 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 ness and lack of judgment perpetually sneered 
 at. Meta was only like the rest of us : a little 
 pampering of self-love and vanity goes a long 
 way towards keeping down passions that are 
 not called forth when we are petted and ca 
 ressed. It is very easy to be amiable when we 
 are never crossed ; and so, she found, is the re 
 verse quite as easy, when teasing and fretting 
 at our foibles keeps them ever in mind, and 
 only aggravates the evil. 
 
 Meta's first difficulty occurred on the day 
 of Mr. Ascher's departure for England, when 
 Bridget came for her to go to Johnny's funeral, 
 and Mrs. Wallace resisted the tearful entreaties 
 of both. The child protested, in her old, pas 
 sionate way, that " mamma was a cruel mamma, 
 and she wished she could die, too ; " at which 
 Bridget looked sorrowful, and Mrs. Wallace, 
 saying contemptuously that " this was all the 
 good her visits to Johnny had done, and they 
 had better not have been made," ordered Fe- 
 licie to take Meta to the nursery. Here she 
 lay on the bed, in an agony of angry grief, for 
 hours. When she had grown calmer, a feeling 
 of intense mortification and sorrow filled her 
 heart. 
 
 " Oh, if God should really grant her prayer, 
 and let her die, what would become of her soul ?
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. ' 149 
 
 She wasn't fit to go where Johnny had gone, 
 when everything made her so wicked, and she 
 had almost hated mamma." 
 
 Then she took out her Bible, and opened it at 
 Johnny's message. " Confess thy sin " looked 
 still more terrible by daylight, and in her pres 
 ent state of awe and penitence ; and when Fe- 
 licie brought her dinner, she found her sitting 
 on the rug, her face buried in the leaves of 
 Johnny's book, crying dismally, all alone. The 
 maid eyed her suspiciously as she drew near 
 and set the plate on the table. 
 
 " What book is that ? " she asked, rudely, try 
 ing to take it out of her hands. Meta did not 
 answer, but sprang hastily by, and locked the 
 Bible in her drawer, half afraid that the luxury 
 of reading it would be denied her. 
 
 " Mauvaise enfante /" said Felicie, reproach 
 fully; "you call madame ugly names, and hide 
 books away in your lock drawer." 
 
 Meta had gone back to the fire, and did not 
 make any reply ; at which the girl vented her 
 reproaches in French, and went away, slam 
 ming the door after her. 
 
 Things went on in this fashion for several 
 weeks ; at the end of which Meta was summoned 
 to another interview in her mamma's dressing- 
 room, and told that she would be sent in a few
 
 I5O META WALLACE, OR 
 
 days to her cousin's school. Mrs. Wallace had 
 expected a rebellious outbreak, but Meta had 
 grown indifferent to her fate, and otfcrcd no ob 
 jection to the plan ; seeing which, the mother 
 was half inclined .to take the little sorrowful girl 
 to her heart, and try to understand her griefs. 
 But she was so persuaded that the child needed 
 other influences, and so used to repressing nat 
 ural instincts in her heart, that the desire to 
 comfort her little one was speedily overcome, 
 and the sentence of banishment given. It was 
 during this interview that she first saw Mr. 
 Ascher's parting gift, and listened attentively 
 to its history. 
 
 " My dear Meta," she said, in an annoyed 
 tone, "is it possible you are so ignorant of 
 propriety as to accept so valuable a gift without 
 consulting me ? " 
 
 " I didn't know it was valuable," she an 
 swered, meekly ; " I remember he said it was a 
 plain little ring." 
 
 " But it has a value, nevertheless, child ; and if 
 I did not think you would suffer by going away 
 from us, I should insist on your returning it to 
 Mr. Ascher, or at least laying it aside." 
 
 " O mamma, you couldn't be so cruel ! " she 
 cried out ; " I promised him always to wear it, 
 and I can't break my word ! I didn't know it
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. \^\ 
 
 was any harm to take it, mamma, indeed. 
 Please let me keep my precious ring ! " 
 
 "There, there! don't get so excited," said 
 Mrs. Wallace, hastily ; " I dare say it's not 
 worth very much. Take it off, and let me 
 see ! " 
 
 But Meta assured her this was impossible, 
 since she had promised to wear it ; and then 
 came out the story of the word engraved inside, 
 which she had wanted so much to look out in 
 her Bible, only she never could find the place. 
 Would mamma help her ? 
 
 " ' Mizpah,' " said Mrs. Wallace, musingly ; 
 " let me see ! Yes, it means something like 
 this : ' The Lord watch between me and thee 
 while we are parted, one from the other.' Who 
 would have believed Joseph Ascher had so 
 much religious sentiment ! I must really tell 
 papa, Meta. Did you know your -paragon was 
 as great an unbeliever as you could well find 
 anywhere ? " 
 
 Meta sadly assented as she turned the ring 
 over on her finger thoughtfully. It was in 
 vested with a new charm now that it bore a 
 prayer on the inside, and the possible loss 
 of such a treasure made her tremble. 
 
 " I may keep it, dear mamma ? " she asked, 
 after a pause, throwing her arms around her
 
 152 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 mother's neck, with little regard to the delicate 
 laces that encircled it. 
 
 "I suppose so yes, of course," replied Mrs. 
 Wallace, as she disengaged the affectionate 
 arms from her lace ruffles, and kissed the 
 child's brow. " There, run away, little girl ; 
 mamma has an engagement with Mrs. Apple- 
 ton now." 
 
 The day for Meta's departure was fixed for 
 the end of that week, and she went about the 
 house very sorrowfully to take leave of the old 
 familiar things. Though she had made no dem 
 onstration when told of her separation from all 
 she loved, she had not the less keenly felt the 
 sentence. Now that Johnny was gone forever, 
 and Mr. Ascher for so long, she had a feeling 
 of loneliness and isolation hard to conquer; 
 but home was home, after all, even if she was 
 severely tried in her daily life, and she had a 
 natural dislike to going among strangers. She 
 was making early acquaintance with that disap 
 pointment of heart that so often " tracks the 
 footsteps of Hope." 
 
 As soon as she felt sure that there was no ap 
 peal from mamma's sentence, she ran over to 
 Agneau's to say good-bye. It was the first 
 time she had visited her humble friends since 
 Johnny's death, and the sight of her familiar
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 153 
 
 face created quite a stir in the shop. Frangois 
 came eagerly around the counter to bid her wel 
 come, and old Agneau, looking over his spec 
 tacles, smiled pleasantly, and made a polite 
 French bow. She sat down on one of the high 
 stools, and began an eager conversation with 
 Francois, who told her he had often visited 
 Johnny for her sake, and had attended the plain 
 funeral, giving her the details of all : how they 
 had dressed the boy in a new suit, and carried 
 him to a big cemetery ; how the nurse and 
 Bridget had wept and moaned, and the man who 
 filled in the grave " reckoned it was all for the 
 best ; " how he, Francois, had laid a bunch of 
 flowers on the grave that very morning; for he 
 had learned to love Johnny, and would take 
 Meta to see the place any day she could obtain 
 madame's consent. 
 
 " I can't ever go," said Meta, sadly, her eyes 
 filling with tears ; " I am going ever so far in 
 the country to live in a big school, and I have 
 come to say good-bye." 
 
 Frangois, in a jargon of French and English, 
 expressed great regret, and asked many ques 
 tions. Then Meta begged him to take a mes 
 sage to her " dear Bridget," and to give her best 
 love to Alice, who was not at home ; and then, 
 jumping down from her high perch, said she
 
 154 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 must certainly go, or F61icie would be very 
 angry indeed. 
 
 Francois made his adieux tearfully, and old 
 Agneau opened his heart, and presented a large 
 bundle of caramels as a parting gift, assuring 
 mademoiselle that he deeply regretted her loss. 
 
 As Meta hurried along the avenue, she saw 
 her old acquaintance, the tambourine girl, hold 
 ing out that instrument beseechingly to the 
 passers-by. She had on a good pair of shoes, 
 and was altogether quite improved since their 
 last meeting. The monkey was hopping about 
 on the pavement, looking very queer in his red- 
 flannel vestments, and still winking his eyes 
 like a sage. When the Italian recognized our 
 little friend, he stopped grinding, in the middle 
 of a tune, to make a flourishing bow, and smile 
 his acknowledgments of former favors. 
 
 " Oh, I haven't any money," cried Meta, as 
 he drew near ; " but here are some nice cara 
 mels!" and, throwing the bundle in the tam 
 bourine, she ran off. 
 
 That night, while sleepily preparing for bed, 
 Felicie came with a summons to her mamma, 
 which Meta obeyed in a tired, reluctant way. 
 She had scarcely entered the dressing-room 
 door, when she was clasped in a pair of sturdy 
 arms, and Bridget's cheery voice greeted her.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 155 
 
 " And it's going away, ye are, my deary ? 
 My heart is sore heavy at the thought. What'll 
 poor Biddy do without one of her darlints ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wallace, who was moved at the woman's 
 love for her child, here softly withdrew, leaving 
 the two to talk over their sorrow together. 
 
 " It can do no harm, now," she thought, " but 
 I was very foolish ever to have allowed it to go 
 on." 
 
 Meta and Bridget had much to say to each 
 other, and they made the most of their time. 
 Johnny's last hours were long dwelt upon, and 
 after the sister had tearfully related the suffer 
 ings, and yet the perfect faith, of her darling, 
 she told the little girl that he had left her a few 
 words of warning and comfort. 
 
 " He bid me tell ye," she said, looking in 
 tently in the child's face, " that ye must be of 
 stout heart to do right, and not forget what he 
 told ye do the day ye ran away with the Frinch 
 lad to see him. D'ye remember ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Meta, sorrowfully ; " are you very 
 sure he said that ? for it's mighty hard to do." 
 
 " Indeed, and I'm sure, Meta. Them's the 
 words my Johnny said. And won't you tell 
 your own Bridget what's worriting the darlint ? 
 Sure, ye' re going among strangers, and ye'd 
 best tell me all. No ? You can't find courage,
 
 META WALLACE. 
 
 my honey ? Then never mind, Mcta, my lamb ; 
 do ye just follow Johnny's advice, and ye'll not 
 go far astray! And now I must be off, dar- 
 lint, for Brooklyn's not at the corner, and your 
 mamma'd not be pleased an' I staid too long. 
 God bless you, my own baby ! " 
 
 Bridget here delivered herself of a series of 
 hugs, and wept silently awhile before she could 
 find it in her heart to break away from " her 
 baby," who clung so passionately to her neck. 
 But Mrs. Wallace's entrance, and the restraint 
 it brought, dried her tears. 
 
 As soon as Bridget closed the door, Meta ran 
 to her mamma, and hid her face in her lap. The 
 long-pent-up grief at leaving home and every 
 thing she loved vented itself in wholesome 
 tears on a mother's breast.
 
 at 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 the evening before her departure, 
 Meta stole softly at twilight to her 
 father's library, and gave a low knock 
 the door. Faint as the sound was, the 
 knock was immediately answered, and, before 
 she had time to hesitate, the door was opened, 
 and her father stood before her, looking down 
 curiously at the little figure. Johnny's first sow 
 ing of good seed was bringing a speedy harvest. 
 His message had sunk deep in her heart at 
 first, and for the last few days she had thought 
 of little else, trying to believe it possible to 
 " forget those things that are behind," and yet 
 not confess, but finding it impossible to expect 
 the blessing if she did not first experience the 
 pain. Whether designedly or not, the boy had 
 so worded his sentence that she never took out
 
 158 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 her Bible for comfort that " Confess thy sin " 
 did not bring to mind what lay heavy on her 
 conscience ; and she grew into a superstitious 
 belief that she would never succeed in her 
 efforts to be good, if she neglected the boy's 
 warning. . 
 
 Bridget's visit and Johnny's last advice, to 
 gether with her regret at leaving home, had all 
 worked slowly to decide her ; and she had re 
 solved that she could never bear the separation 
 from her father, or the loneliness of the new 
 life, if there was anything worse than parting 
 to endure. 
 
 " What do you want, Meta ? " was her father's 
 first question, after bidding her enter and hand 
 ing her a chair. Meta did not sit down, but 
 stood nervously before the table, covered with 
 pamphlets and papers, at which her father had 
 seated himself. 
 
 " I have something very naughty to tell you, 
 papa," she said, playing with an end of her 
 apron. 
 
 " What is it, little one ? Have you broken 
 something, or torn your best dress ? You'd 
 better go to mamma, dear ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, papa, nothing like that ! This hap 
 pened very long ago at Bellevue." 
 
 " At Bellevue ? " repeated Mr. Wallace, be-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 159 
 
 coming interested ; " and what was it so very 
 naughty, Meta ? " 
 
 With a desperate effort, and struggling vainly 
 against her tears, she told the whole story. Mr. 
 Wallace listened very gravely as the revelation 
 was made. One of his pet hobbies had always 
 been that, since the children were forbidden 
 ever to enter the library, at either residence, it 
 mattered very little in what condition his papers 
 were left ; and he was, consequently, extremely 
 careless. He had missed this very paper when 
 making an inventory of his property, in view of 
 a new will, on the day of Mr. Ascher's arrival, 
 and had purposed going to Bellevue to look it 
 up ; but his friend's visit had not only post 
 poned the trip, but entirely obliterated the loss 
 from his mind; and as he was a genuine procras- 
 tinator, even the new will was still in an unfin 
 ished state. As Meta's tale progressed, he gave 
 way to various emotions. Annoyance at the 
 child's heedlessness, self-reproach for his own 
 carelessness, wonder at the influence that had 
 brought the thing to light, and an affectionate 
 sympathy for the poor little penitent, filled his 
 heart. A pang of self-reproach for her unloved 
 childhood smote him, too. What had he ever 
 done to make the spring-time of life joyous to 
 her, or to sow the good seed she had found by
 
 l6O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 the wayside ? Her very artlessness and queer- 
 ness went to his heart as he sat silently strok 
 ing her hand. Though fearing it was the miss 
 ing paper she so confusedly avowed she had 
 swallowed, he still hoped it might be valueless 
 as he asked the question : . 
 
 " Was there any name, Meta ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa," in a despairing tone, " it was my 
 dear, good Mr. Joseph Ascher." 
 
 Mr. Wallace, at this confirmation of his fears, 
 thrust aside the hand he was stroking, and took 
 a few strides down the room. After looking out 
 of the window a few moments, and giving a phil 
 osophical whistle, he came back to his chair, 
 and set Meta on his knee. 
 
 " O papa," she cried, despairingly ; " what have 
 I done ? what have I done ? " And she clasped 
 her hands, feeling sure it was something very 
 dreadful, indeed. 
 
 " We are both to blame, my dear," said her 
 father, after a pause ; " but though I am sorry 
 for your distress, I must severely reprimand 
 your thoughtlessness. You have swallowed 
 just exactly five thousand dollars." 
 
 " Five thousand dollars ! " repeated the little 
 girl in a tone of horror; then she gave way to a 
 fit of overwhelming grief. 
 
 " Yes," pursued Mr. Wallace, " the paper you
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. l6l 
 
 swallowed was a note from Mr. Ascher for that 
 amount." 
 
 " A note, papa ? Couldn't he write another ? " 
 
 " Yes," reflectively ; " he could do that ; but 
 then, Mr. Ascher is far away, you know ' 
 
 " O papa," interrupted the voice, brokenly ; 
 " if I had only told you before Mr. Ascher 
 left ! " 
 
 " Ah, Meta, if you had, there would have been 
 no serious trouble, you see ! Concealment is 
 very dangerous, and I hope you will profit by 
 your experience of it. You did very wrong to 
 disobey my wishes, in going at all into the li 
 brary, and then to gratify your temper by de 
 stroying the evidence of your fault ; but you 
 have done far worse to keep it so long con 
 cealed." 
 
 " I wasn't quite sure, papa," she pleaded, hum 
 bly, " that the paper was really valuable. It was 
 out on the desk, and looked so old, and " 
 
 " Don't hunt up excuses ! " interrupted her 
 father, somewhat nettled that his own careless 
 ness was coming in for a share of the blame ; 
 " it is very cowardly to seek escape from the 
 just punishment of our evil acts ; don't you 
 know that ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, penitently ; " but I did not 
 mean any harm I didn't think "
 
 1 62 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " That is just what we are all prone to say 
 when we have been very thoughtless, little 
 girl ! Shall I tell you a nice verse you would 
 do well to learn ? Listen, and remember it, 
 Meta : 
 
 Evil is wrought by want of thought 
 As well as want of heart. 
 
 Thoughtlessness is no sort of plea to urge when 
 you have done wrong, for it is a wrong in itself. 
 Think of the number of people who might have 
 been made happy by the sum you so carelessly 
 made away with ! " 
 
 " Oh, can't anything be done ? I'll ask Mr. 
 Ascher to write it over again ! " 
 
 Mr. Wallace smiled. 
 
 "Listen attentively, Meta," he said, "and I 
 will tell you a story about that paper. Long 
 ago, when your friend was a poor man, and left 
 my office to start for himself in the West, I 
 offered to lend him a considerable amount of 
 money, and, after some hesitation, he agreed to 
 accept the favor. I was very fond of your Mr. 
 Ascher ; he had been my confidential clerk for 
 years, and I was very anxious to assist him in 
 his manly notions of independence. In a few 
 years he paid me half the original sum loaned 
 do you understand what I am saying ? "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 163 
 
 " Oh, yes, papa, every word of it ! That paper 
 told about it all, I reckon ! " 
 
 " No, not exactly, but it was Mr. Ascher's 
 promise to pay me, after a specified time, the 
 rest of the money, with interest from the date 
 of the loan. Now, I have no proof, you see, of 
 the transaction, Meta. Mr. Ascher's note hav 
 ing been made a meal of, I can only rely upon 
 his honor; and though I do not question that 
 at all, yet the ocean is wide, life is short, and 
 wealth may disappear in a twinkling " 
 
 " O papa," sighed Meta, despairingly. 
 
 " Besides," he continued, " no one knows of 
 the existence of that paper but your friend and 
 myself ah, I forgot ! you have crept into the 
 secret, too ! See what an important person 
 you have made of yourself ! And now, Meta, 
 let this be a lasting lesson to you ; and remem 
 ber that, though I am a rich man, I am not 
 proof against bankruptcy if you take a fancy to 
 swallowing many notes for five thousand dollars 
 at a meal ! " 
 
 Finding that her father was again smiling, 
 Meta took heart and smiled too. In fact, Mr. 
 Wallace, while talking, had convinced himself 
 that it was not such an irremediable piece of 
 mischief, after all. The ocean might be wide, 
 and life uncertain, but it seemed scarcely prob-
 
 164 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 able that cither his wealth or his life could be 
 in jeopardy ; and he comforted himself, as well 
 as the child, with the assurance that he would 
 write to Ascher shortly, and the matter would 
 be satisfactorily arranged. 
 
 In the midst of Meta's grateful thanks for 
 her father's kindness, the dressing-bell rang, 
 and she was hurriedly dismissed with an affec 
 tionate caress and a full assurance of pardon. 
 There was one part of the story that Mr. Wal 
 lace had not deemed it necessary to tell ; but 
 Meta knew nothing of this, and went " on her 
 way rejoicing " at the weight lifted from her 
 heart. 
 
 For some time, it is true, she did reflect upon 
 the vast amount of happiness such a sum might 
 procure, and of the danger of trifling with un 
 known papers; but the relief from her long- 
 endured struggles to confess was so great that 
 she very soon comforted herself with the belief 
 that it would all be made right when papa wrote 
 to Mr. Ascher. The sin having been confessed, 
 she might now hope to " forget those things 
 which are behind," and take the next step in 
 Johnny's pathway. 
 
 In the bustle of departure, and the tearful 
 leave of her parents and home, Meta forgot 
 everything but her own sadness of heart, and
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 165 
 
 dismissed all thought of the paper from her 
 mind; nor did she trouble herself about the 
 matter afterwards, until years had passed, and 
 subsequent events brought the scene in her 
 father's library vividly to her recollection. 
 
 Mr. Wallace had promised in good faith, and 
 had intended to write, within a few days, to Mr. 
 Ascher, explaining the loss of his note ; but he 
 had been too long a procrastinator to change 
 his habits at once, and the letter was never 
 written at all.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ^EVERAL weeks passed, and Meta was 
 sufficiently initiated into the mysteries 
 of school life to be very homesick, and 
 weary of the routine. She longed to go back 
 to New York, and be free to follow her inclina 
 tions again : to take a run over to Agneau's and 
 chat with Francois ; to ride out with her mother 
 and Florry, or even to quarrel with F^licie. 
 Anything seemed preferable to the dull monot 
 ony and weariness of her changed life. The 
 girls were strangers, and possessed of all the 
 curiosity of their class, vexing her with inquiries 
 into her past existence and her tastes, teasing 
 her for her awkwardness among the self-pos 
 sessed young women who had seen something 
 of the world, and, worse than all, laughing at 
 her serious turn of mind, and dubbing her 
 (166)
 
 META STUDYING. Page 166.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. l6j 
 
 " Saint Margaret " for daring to quote from 
 Johnny's sentences when her religious views 
 were called in question. 
 
 All this was perplexing and very hard to 
 bear; she found Johnny's pathway narrow and 
 thorny enough to cause many tears in trying 
 not to forsake it. The bell that roused hei 
 from a- comfortable morning nap, to hurry on 
 her clothes, seemed the crudest of sounds. 
 She missed Fe"licie's dexterous fingers, and 
 made sad work with her curls and collars ; for 
 she had never performed such offices for herself 
 before. The long refectory, with its rows of 
 tables, seemed like a court of justice, before 
 which she must answer to the charge of never 
 having been to a boarding-school. There were 
 no longer Swiss rolls and appetizing relishes 
 for breakfast, but -only her share of the sub 
 stantial country fare, which she found very 
 unlike that to which she was accustomed, and 
 not at all to her taste. She missed, too, Ag- 
 neau's fancy confectionery. There were village 
 stores, where candy of an antiquated build and 
 taste was offered for sale ; but at such Meta 
 turned up her nose, and would not deign to 
 eat. On the whole, her first experience of a 
 boarding-school or, as Mr. Leslie's more aris 
 tocratic establishment was termed, a Pcnsionnat 
 des Demoiselles was anything but agreeable.
 
 1 68 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 Mr. Leslie and his amiable wife, though nom 
 inally the principals of the school, had nothing 
 whatever to do with its management. A strict 
 Frenchwoman and a large corps of under-pro- 
 fessors virtually ruled, while Mr. Leslie was 
 financial manager, and his wife devoted herself 
 entirely to the household department. 
 
 Madame Seville, under whose jurisdiction the 
 girls were placed, was rather too much given to 
 partiality to be just ; yet, on the whole, was some 
 what a favorite with her scholars. One of her 
 eccentricities was to be always complaining of 
 headache, or some other bodily ill, which made 
 it necessary for her to drink fragrant coffee and 
 eat tender steaks at her end of the table, the 
 choice morsels being hungrily watched by the 
 girls, who were faring so differently. Yet, to 
 judge by her ruddy face and round figure, mad- 
 ame needed very little to sustain her, and one 
 would never have suspected that she was alto 
 gether so great an invalid as she supposed. 
 Mrs. Leslie provided amply for her young 
 charges, but it was rather tempting to see mad- 
 ame's private meals so greatly relished ; and not 
 withstanding that there were other substantiate 
 presented to them, so long as madame dipped 
 into the " flesh-pots of Egypt," the scholars 
 longed to do likewise.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 169 
 
 One Saturday morning-, Meta stood on the 
 back piazza, looking disconsolately down upon a 
 merry group in the yard who were busy at a 
 game of croquet, too homesick and miserable to 
 join them. She had been nearly a month in 
 the school, and, though her shyness had some 
 what worn off, still held herself aloof from her 
 companions, earning by the indulgence of natu 
 ral timidity the character of a " reserved, stuck- 
 up piece," in the language of the boarders. 
 She had borne the inquisitorial process to which 
 new scholars are subjected very patiently; but 
 when her cousin Julia, her room-mate and would- 
 be friend, made her the subject of a witty 
 sketch, laughing at her for reading Johnny's 
 Bible, and teasing her unmercifully for preten 
 sions to saintliness, her old temper was roused. 
 This morning some very ill-natured remark had 
 kept her from the croquet ground, and fostered 
 the angry spirit she had hoped was under con 
 trol. She was anxious to join the group in the 
 yard, yet would not, because she felt her way 
 ward passion could not be restrained if she was 
 greeted with the hateful title of " Saint Marga 
 ret," and this she knew would be the case. 
 
 She was almost ready to cry, when an inter 
 ruption, as unexpected as it was unwelcome, 
 came in the shape of Madame Seville. The
 
 I7O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 teacher noiselessly approached, and laid a fat 
 hand on the curly head. 
 
 " What is the matter, my dear ? " asked mad- 
 ame, soothingly, catching sight of the miserable 
 face. Meta shrugged her shoulders, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " Poor little girl, you are homesick ! Come 
 with me ! Have you had your breakfast ? " 
 
 " I had some bread and milk," said Meta, 
 sighing; "I did not care for anything else." 
 
 "And you don't call that breakfast, I sup 
 pose," said madame, laughing at her tone; 
 " come with me, and I will see what I can find 
 to add to the bread and milk." 
 
 The little girl reluctantly obeyed, and fol 
 lowed madame through a good many passages 
 to a small room overlooking the lawn. The 
 morning sunshine streamed in through the 
 pretty muslin curtains, a canary sang merrily 
 in the window, a bright fire burned in the grate, 
 and altogether it was as cheery and inviting a 
 little chamber as one could well desire, Meta 
 felt more at home than she had done since her 
 arrival, as she took the nice cushioned chair to 
 which madame invited her, and leaned back at 
 her ease ; while her teacher bustled about the 
 room, moving a book here, and changing the 
 fall of her curtains, feeding the canary with
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. I'J \ 
 
 sugar, and talking all the while with true 
 French volubility. There were several large, 
 rosy apples on the mantel-piece, which she took 
 down and handed to Meta, bidding her eat them 
 if she liked ; then, seating herself in a rocking- 
 chair, she began questioning her young visitor 
 pretty much as the girls had done, finding 
 great amusement in the queer answers she re 
 ceived, as Meta unwittingly opened her heart. 
 
 " Let me see," said madame, after a long talk ; 
 '.' I believe I have heard Julia Leslie speak of 
 you. She is your room-mate, isn't she ? And 
 you are the very little girl they have all been 
 talking about." 
 
 The brown eyes looked up inquiringly, and 
 then drooped. 
 
 " I don't know what Julia could have said 
 about me," said Meta, her good-humor about to 
 vanish. 
 
 " Only that you put yourself to sleep every 
 night with Bible verses,." replied madame, smil 
 ing. " There ! don't be provoked with your 
 cousin ; it was nothing very bad to say, I am 
 sure ! " 
 
 A quick, vivid blush mantled the child's face. 
 Could it bo that Julia had really heard her re 
 peating the dear sentences to herself when she 
 fancied everybody asleep and she was so heart-
 
 1/2 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 sick and miserable ? The little hands were 
 clasped tightly, as her eyes filled with passion 
 ate tears. Madame Seville, unconscious of the 
 pain she was inflicting on the sensitive nature, 
 so keenly alive to ridicule, and knowing nothing 
 of Meta's new title or the girls' sneers, went on 
 in the same strain to confirm the child's fears 
 that her sufferings had really been made a sub 
 ject of jest, and her one comfort Johnny's 
 legacy laughed at by her heedless cousin. 
 The old leaven rose in her heart as she listened, 
 clasping and unclasping her hands in excite 
 ment, but saying not a word of all she felt. 
 
 Madame, who was sorry to see her so soon 
 the object of school-girl ridicule, thought she 
 would venture upon a piece of advice. 
 
 " It is very well, my dear," she said, kindly 
 "very well to cultivate your pious inclinations; 
 but let me beg you to keep them to yourself in 
 future. These heedless girls have no sympathy 
 with anything above their own level, and you 
 will never be popular if you even seem to be 
 better than your companions." 
 
 " I don't want to be popular ! " cried Meta, 
 passionately; "I don't pretend to be good, 
 either! I never was good ; I was only trying I 
 Oh, I wish I was back at home, and away from 
 all these cruel people "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 1/3 
 
 Sobbing vebemently, Meta could get no fur 
 ther ; but, throwing her apples down on the 
 table, she ran out of the room before madame 
 had recovered from her surprise at the strange 
 result of her well-meant advice. 
 
 Too indignant and too proud to appear before 
 the girls in tears, Meta checked her sobs as she 
 sped along the passages, out into the yard, and 
 into the midst of the game of croquet. The 
 girls who were playing had reached the close of 
 the contest, and were in a state of clamorous 
 excitement, their voices mingling in so many 
 keys of reproach, triumph, and discomfiture, as 
 various blows decided the game, that the uproar 
 was extreme. Meta rushed in among the balls, 
 regardless of the exclamations from all sides. 
 
 " Get out of my way ! " cried Julia, excitedly. 
 " I can't see that wicket, and I mean to go right 
 through to the stake ! " 
 
 But before the boast was well out of her 
 mouth, Meta confronted her. 
 
 " You are a cruel, dishonorable girl," she 
 said in a low voice, her eyes flashing. 
 
 " Heyday ! " said the astonished Julia, paus 
 ing to take aim ; " I believe you've lost your 
 wits, Meta Wallace." 
 
 " No, I haven't," returned her cousin, still in 
 a very low tone ; " you know I am telling the
 
 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 truth ! You have spied on me and told all 
 about me, and I think you are very mean and 
 cruel ! " 
 
 " Meta Wallace," cried Julia, in a tone that 
 all could hear, " I used to think you were very 
 pious; but I do declare, you're the greatest little 
 termagant I ever saw ! Nobody likes story 
 tellers, I can tell you ! We're not used to it 
 here ! " 
 
 " Oh, for shame, Julia ! " cried several voices, 
 deprecatingly. 
 
 " I mean just what I say ! " answered Julia, 
 turning sharply and defiantly around on the 
 group. " Meta knows very well that she's always 
 singing psalms and saying her prayers, and now 
 she's ashamed to own it." And Julia, laying a 
 heavy hand on Meta's shoulder, shook her fin 
 ger scornfully in her face. 
 
 With blind, angry gestures Meta strove to 
 release herself from her cousin's grasp ; and in 
 the struggle that ensued, Julia backed over the 
 croquet wicket, bruising herself slightly, and 
 putting a sudden termination to the dispute. 
 When she arose, scowling at Meta, the girls 
 crowded around her with offers of sympathy ; 
 and, though it had not been Meta's fault at all, 
 on her shoulders came all the weight of dis 
 pleasure. The croquet party, angry at the in-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 175 
 
 terruption to their game, and siding with Julia, 
 who vehemently declared " she was dead, and 
 Meta had killed her," were pouring out their 
 wrath, when Madame Seville, who had followed 
 the child, came suddenly on the scene. 
 
 " Sallie Owens," said madame, addressing a 
 tall, handsome girl, the idol of the school for 
 cleverness and daring, " Sallie Owens, tell me 
 the cause of this disturbance. I am really 
 ashamed of you, girls." 
 
 Poor Meta's case had fallen into bad hands ; 
 for Sallie was madame's acknowledged favorite, 
 and Julia's stanchest friend. 
 
 " What it means, madame ? " quoth the young 
 lady, indignantly, looking contemptuously at 
 Meta. " It's an exhibition of religious fervor : a 
 display of Saint Margaret's temper. She gives 
 lectures on Christian patience, and this is the 
 way she demonstrates them. I always hated 
 saintly people, and now I am sure they hide 
 claws ! " 
 
 There was a general laugh at this display of 
 smartness, and Sallie looked complacently at 
 madame, evidently conscious of her power. 
 Madame did not smile at the pleasantry, yet 
 did not rebuke it. 
 
 " Have you anything to say ?" she said, turn 
 ing to Meta.
 
 176 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Not here," replied the child, sorrowfully ; her 
 temper all gone, and intense mortification at 
 this public disgrace filling her heart. Though 
 conscious that she had really not acted the 
 part so volubly given to her in Julia's ex 
 cited account of her fall, she sensibly felt how 
 much cause she had given for sneers when her 
 practice had been so different from her creeds. 
 Bitterly she regretted that she had not remon 
 strated with her cousin when she was in a better 
 frame of mind ; and though she was conscious of 
 still being roused at the injustice of her posi 
 tion, she was too mortified and self-condemned 
 to clear herself in madame's eyes. It was a les 
 son of self-control learned so long ago that it 
 was not so hard to restrain herself as it would 
 seem. 
 
 Madame, with a few cutting reproofs, dis 
 missed the party to their several apartments. 
 This would have been a great relief to Meta 
 but for the difficult position she was in; for 
 Julia, being her room-mate, was just then in a 
 frame of mind to be very trying, and sufficient 
 punishment in herself. Meta would have gladly 
 apologized when they were alone, but Julia 
 would not hear of it. She was not conscious of 
 how far she had been unjust and untruthful, 
 and, while trying to make good her case to mad-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 ame, had succeeded in convincing herself that 
 Meta had done something very bad, and she 
 had behaved with great forbearance and discre 
 tion. It was very gratifying to her angry feel 
 ings that she had the sympathy of the whole 
 party, and she wrapped herself in her dignity, 
 and refused to be won over by anything her 
 cousin could say. 
 
 If Meta had not gone through such training 
 in Felicie's hands, it is to be questioned whether 
 she could have stood the tirade as long as she 
 did. To her great relief, madame, who feared 
 something of this kind, after a while sent for her 
 to come out in the garden, where she proposed 
 joining her in a short time. Meta joyfully took 
 her hat, and left Julia to her own reflections, 
 preferring madame's probable lecture to her 
 cousin's wrathful reproaches. 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HEN Meta reached the garden and en 
 tered the pretty arbor, covered with its 
 first green leaves of spring, a feeling of 
 refreshment and relief came over her. Every 
 thing was so peaceful, and the air was so fresh 
 and cool, that she could scarcely believe she 
 had been through such turmoil so lately. 
 
 The sight of a large chair, with wheels at the 
 side, just within the arbor, made her suddenly 
 step back. She had seen the chair before, and 
 knew that the occupant was Mrs. Leslie's inva 
 lid sister, Miss Clifton, who was to be seen 
 wheeling herself along the garden paths every 
 pleasant day. Meta had often wondered why 
 she never walked, and several times had made 
 up her mind to join the groups of girls around 
 the chair during recess ; but she had never 
 (178)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 done so, and would have drawn back now, but a 
 sweet voice called out to her to stay. Timidly 
 she came forward, taking the delicate hand held 
 out to her, and sat down on the rustic bench 
 against which the chair rested. Since her in 
 troduction to Miss Clifton, this was the first 
 time she had ever been thrown with her, except 
 when surrounded by school-girls ; and a feeling 
 of awe and embarrassment took possession of 
 her. But the invalid's voice was so kind, and 
 her fair, placid face had something in it so fas 
 cinating, that Meta was soon glad she had come. 
 
 "Madame Seville has been here," said Miss 
 Clifton, after her companion had become some 
 what at her ease ; " and I persuaded her to send 
 you to me, my dear. I have had some experi 
 ence in these matters, and they do not weary 
 me as they do poor madame, who has so many 
 cases to settle. I felt sure there was some mis 
 take about it, and now you are to tell me just 
 howj0# saw the matter; for you know, my dear, 
 we do not all see things in the same light." 
 
 Looking earnestly in the kind face, Meta in 
 voluntarily drew nearer Miss Clifton's chair, and 
 laid her hand in the delicate, outstretched palm. 
 A wistful expression in the child's eyes made the 
 invalid draw Meta's head over on her shoulder, 
 where she soon found courage to tell her story,
 
 l8O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 not without remorsefully dwelling upon her 
 hasty temper, and her hopes that she would 
 learn how to govern her spirit some of these 
 days, " if she only tried hard." As she went on 
 in her recital of all the provocation Julia had 
 offered, yet without exonerating herself, Miss 
 Clifton was surprised to find how persistent and 
 anxious her little penitent was to follow in the 
 way Johnny had pointed out. Of course, Johnny 
 and Bridget, and, indeed, all of Meta's life was 
 revealed to the sympathizing listener during 
 the long interview ; and before it came to an 
 end, the little girl was thoroughly at home and 
 very cheerful with her new friend. 
 
 " I am so glad madame sent me to you," said 
 Meta, confidentially ; " I didn't know you were 
 so nice. I used to be afraid to speak " 
 . " I suppose because of this formidable chair," 
 smiled Winny ; " I am afraid it has frightened 
 away a good many little girls with their troub 
 les to somebody else." 
 
 Meta looked as if she very much wished to 
 ask something about the chair, but she did not 
 like to question Miss Clifton. Her expressive 
 face, however, was so inquiring that the invalid 
 divined her thoughts. 
 
 " You are wondering why I never leave my 
 chair ? " she asked, smiling.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. l8l 
 
 " Yes, I am," said Meta ; " it seems very com 
 fortable, but don't you get tired sometimes ? " 
 
 " Not often, dear, for I have grown accus 
 tomed to my confinement, and seldom think of 
 it as a deprivation. You see, my hands are kept 
 busy, and I have the comfort of moving about 
 after a fashion ; then, so much that was needful 
 and beautiful, too, has come to my life since I 
 was first cut off from greater usefulness, that I 
 have no need to repine. Do you want to know 
 why I never walk ? When I was a school-girl 
 like yourself, I had a very severe fall on the ice, 
 which so injured my knee that I have never 
 moved without assistance since." 
 
 " Oh, how dreadful ! " exclaimed Meta ; " do 
 you mind telling me about it, Miss Clifton ? " 
 
 " I seldom speak of it," she returned, gravely, 
 " as it was a very painful part of my life ; but I 
 trust you will profit by my experience. My ac 
 cident occurred during a winter holiday, when a 
 large skating party was formed, and we went 
 down to the pond, a crowd of laughing, heedless 
 girls, ready for a grand frolic. Among my com 
 panions was one who held the same position 
 that Sallie Owens does here; she was a gay, 
 clever, daring girl, whom we all felt proud to 
 follow in whatever she proposed, no matter how 
 wild the folly. I was her chosen friend ; and as
 
 1 82 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 I never ventured to oppose her in anything, we 
 were extremely devoted to each other. Our only 
 cause of rivalry was skating, for we were both 
 well-drilled and perfectly fearless; so, after a 
 time, it became an acknowledged fact in the 
 school that we were so well-matched that, 
 though the girls took sides violently, no one 
 could decide which was the better skater of the 
 two. On this day, the absurd spirit of rivalry 
 had taken possession of our followers, and noth 
 ing would satisfy them but a race, that the oft- 
 disputed question of our merit might be decided 
 upon. To this Alice and I readily agreed, and 
 after some parley the race began. The result 
 was so exactly the same every time we ran the 
 allotted space, there being no visible difference 
 in the time made, that we were soon involved in 
 an eager dispute, and a great many ill-natured 
 things were said on both sides. When we took 
 our stand for a last trial, Alice and I were 
 both very much excited. I saw that she looked 
 tired and provoked; but a sneering remark just 
 before starting roused my pride and anger, and 
 I did not offer, as I had intended, to put it off 
 till the next holiday, as we were not equally 
 matched. I felt so strong and sure of success, 
 that, as we moved along swiftly, I could not for 
 bear laughing gayly. A twig sticking up through
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 183 
 
 the ice had turned Alice's course a hair's-breadth, 
 and a loud shout from my partisans moved me 
 to wave my handkerchief in token of triumph 
 as I prepared to dart by ; but Alice was too 
 quick for me. Before I could reach the bank 
 she had recovered her position, and darted 
 across my path with sudden energy, throwing 
 me off my balance, in the very teeth of victory, 
 and I fell heavily on the ice. I did not recover 
 consciousness for several minutes, and, when I 
 did so, found myself lying on the bank, a crowd 
 of scared faces looking into mine, and my hands 
 being vigorously chafed. I was carried to the 
 house, for every movement made me scream 
 with agony ; and since that day I have never 
 walked. My knee was injured for life, and 
 nothing could be done." 
 
 " And Alice ? " cried Meta, breathlessly. " Oh, 
 didn't you hate her all your life ?" 
 
 " The suffering made me very weak and 
 wicked, my dear. For months I groaned at 
 my fate, and refused to be comforted, cherish 
 ing very bitter feelings towards Alice, notwith 
 standing her vehement grief and despair. But 
 time changed all this, and I have long since 
 ceased to blame my old friend. We have had 
 many tearful talks about it all, for she was never 
 the same after my accident, blaming herself in
 
 184 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 a morbid way, and never losing the sting of self- 
 reproach. But we have been dear friends in 
 spite of my unkind and cruel rejection of her 
 in those first days of pain and despair." 
 
 " I am afraid I would have hated her," said 
 Meta ; " I am afraid I would never have let her 
 come near me again." 
 
 " Ah ! that is because you cely on your own 
 strength! Do you suppose I could have con 
 quered my revengeful, unforgiving spirit if 
 I had depended on myself ? You must learn 
 to look above for strength to overcome sinful 
 nature, else you cannot hope to claim the 
 promise, ' In due time ye shall reap, if ye faint 
 not.' " 
 
 This was new doctrine to Meta ; she was go 
 ing a step further in Christian experience. 
 " " But if I keep looking above, and don't try 
 myself, how can I ever be good ? " she asked, in 
 a puzzled tone of voice. 
 
 Miss Clifton could not forbear smiling. 
 
 " If you keep your heart fixed above, Meta, 
 and yet try your utmost, you will follow both 
 my idea and your own ; will you not ? For in 
 stance : it seems very hard to you that I am 
 unable to go about like the rest of you ; yet, by 
 God's blessing, this is to me no longer a great 
 trial. I am very happy in my narrow sphere of
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 185 
 
 usefulness, and am removed from many tempta 
 tions that might have proved a snare to my 
 weak heart. God knows what is best for his 
 creatures, and I am ready to do his will, thankful 
 that ' He who knows me best shall choose for 
 me.' Didn't you tell me that Johnny was com 
 forted with the hope of a new body ? So am I, 
 dear Meta. Think of me as I shall be then, 
 not as I am now ! " 
 
 Miss Clifton's face beamed with faith and joy 
 as she spoke, and Meta looked very wistfully at 
 the radiant expression in her sweet eyes. 
 
 " Don't you think," she said, slowly, after a 
 pause "don't you think if my back was 
 crooked, or somebody broke my leg, I would 
 find it easier to be good ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," laughed Miss Winny ; " God gives 
 to every seed its own body. You would not be a 
 better Christian in a way of your own choosing. 
 God knows just how far you can be tried, and 
 what is the salvation of one soul may be hurtful 
 and a drawback to another. So, after all, dear, 
 we come back to the first standpoint : trust in 
 him. He knows the end, we do not ; and what 
 may seem to you an easier road might prove a 
 delusion and a snare." 
 
 " But, Miss Winny, you and Johnny are the 
 best people I ever saw, and yet you can't walk. 
 I was never sick in my whole life "
 
 1 86 AT ETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Don't say it so repiningly," interrupted her 
 friend, in earnest reproach ; " that is a great 
 blessing, and not to be received without thanks. * 
 God has not chosen to send you bodily trials, 
 but you must not reject the spiritual. Shall I 
 tell you how it strikes me? There is far greater 
 glory in governing the heart than in enduring 
 physical suffering. The martyr bares his head 
 for the axe, knowing that with one fleet mortal 
 throe he gains the company of his God and the 
 angels, and he can bid his coward heart take 
 courage ; but to conquer one's spirit, bridle the 
 hasty tongue, and live in the world, exposed to 
 its countless temptations and crosses, yet above 
 the trivialities of human life, seems to me a 
 higher kind of sacrifice, that brings its own 
 great reward." 
 
 " I think you are right, though I don't believe 
 I know all you mean," sighed Meta ; then, after 
 a pause, "do you know, Miss Winny, I' pray to 
 be given a new heart, and I try to do as Johnny 
 said ; but I still get very angry, and say wicked 
 things all the time when I am crossed. Can it 
 be I am too young for God to help me ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, my poor little one ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Clifton, earnestly; "you must not be afraid of 
 that. Take comfort in the invitation to little 
 children to come unto him, and never believe
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. lS/ 
 
 that your desires to do right are not all noted 
 in his Book of Life. Human friends may mis 
 judge* us, but God never will." 
 
 Here madame's sharp black eyes looked in on 
 the two. 
 
 " So," she said, panting, and out of breath ; 
 " so ! I am very glad to see, mademoiselle, that 
 you have Meta in charge, and seem to be get 
 ting on so well with her case ! It is a very dif 
 ferent expression to the one she wore on the 
 croquet ground. Come, little lady, let me hear 
 your account of yourself ! " 
 
 " Nay, madame," interposed Miss Winny, see 
 ing that Meta's shyness was coming back under 
 the new influence ; " if you will only let me dis 
 miss the plaintiff, and give my own version of 
 her cause, I shall feel that I am doing some 
 good to the Commonwealth." 
 
 To this proposition madame consented after 
 some hesitation, dismissing Meta with an in 
 junction to be very careful of her temper in 
 future, and above all not to provoke her cousin 
 to wrath, should she not have recovered com 
 posure. Meta ran off very much relieved, and 
 was soon engrossed with a party of eager cro- 
 queters, who besieged her before she reached 
 the house.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 |EXT in school authority to Madame Se 
 ville ranked Monsieur Jean, the master 
 of languages and music. A queer little 
 Frenchman was Monsieur, full of eccentricities, 
 and held in great awe among the girls, yet gifted 
 with a benevolent affection for everybody and 
 everything that was too weak to stand up for 
 itself. He had been known to pet a number 
 of poor worthless dogs whose masters cast 
 them out upon the world ; not that he liked the 
 miserable-looking objects, but that they were 
 being beaten and cuffed about for their ugliness, 
 and this he could not endure. Monsieur's room 
 was almost a menagerie ; for he owned two par 
 rots, a canary, a cage full of mocking-birds, a 
 venerable old cat and her kittens, and a big 
 dog. He seemed to have the gift of fascination 
 
 (188)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 189 
 
 over animals and birds ; and notwithstanding 
 the incongruous collection, there was never any 
 wrangling or disturbance in his " happy family." 
 Fortunately for the peace of the establish 
 ment, Mr. Leslie had given up to his valuable 
 but very eccentric professor a small office in 
 the yard, where himself and favorites were re 
 moved from the immediate effect of Madame 
 SevilVs contempt for his tastes. His personal 
 appearance being quite as remarkable as some 
 of his ways, Monsieur Jean was often a source 
 of amusement to strangers. He persisted in 
 wearing the most unique suit of black velvet, 
 cut after a fashion of his own, and never 
 changed, however fashions might be altered ; 
 his queer, wizened face was not much improved 
 by the addition of a velvet smoking-cap, made 
 somewhat in the shape of a funnel, and elabo 
 rately embroidered ; yet this was his daily attire. 
 Smoking being his chief employment when not 
 on duty in school, he was scarcely ever seen 
 without a pipe of enormous length ; which, by 
 the way, was kept in his desk as a solace during 
 recess, and very often used to rap French verbs 
 into obstinate heads. The girls were as much 
 afraid of these unexpected aids to wandering 
 brains as the children of birchen-rod experi 
 ence were, doubtless, of that famed auxiliary in
 
 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 the hands of the old school-masters, who did not 
 spare the rod. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding that Monsieur Jean was 
 undoubtedly peculiar, there were none bold or, 
 indeed, unkind enough to laugh. His good- 
 heartedness and sympathy for the whole human 
 family had grown into a proverb in the neighbor 
 hood ; for he had dwelt among the people for 
 many years, doing good silently yet effectually, 
 antl burying his gifts away from the great world 
 that would not have been sparing of praise for 
 the talents he used so well and yet so humbly. 
 
 He was known to possess a neat income, and 
 only pursued his occupation in Mr. Leslie's 
 school from sincere attachment to the family, 
 and a veritable genius he possessed for drilling 
 young brains in the mysteries of language and 
 music. 
 
 Meta Wallace was brought under his notice 
 and his love, at first, through her tie of blood 
 with the Leslies, who ranked above the rest of 
 the world in his heart ; but his enthusiastic de 
 votion to music, in which her one talent lay, 
 soon made her a favorite for the sake of art. 
 Our little friend's voice was something quite 
 wonderful in compass and sweetness ; and no 
 ""sooner had Monsieur Jean heard her sing, than 
 he at once took her under his protection, invit-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. IQI**' 
 
 ing her to his menagerie to admire the inmates, 
 telling her wonderful tales of the world's famous 
 singers, and promising great things for her fu 
 ture if she would only carefully avoid the " new 
 school " of music, for which he had great con 
 tempt. Meta listened always attentively, though 
 she knew very little about " schools " of that 
 kind, and found it impossible to pronounce the 
 names of some of those famous people. She 
 made herself still more a favorite with her 
 teacher by diligently following his advice and 
 never disputing facts that she knew nothing 
 about; so, before three months of her school- 
 life had passed, she had no stancher friend than 
 the kind old professor, who never failed to show 
 the utmost interest in and regard for her. 
 
 A few days after the occurrence on the cro 
 quet ground, as the classes in Monsieur's charge 
 sat demurely silent under his strict rule, Meta, 
 who was busily writing out a verb, was roused 
 by a slight whizzing sound, and a roll of paper 
 lodged on her desk. 
 
 " Silence ! " cried the professor, as a slight 
 clearing of the throat in his vicinity made him 
 look up in time to see violent telegraphing go 
 ing on behind the unconscious Meta. 
 
 " Give it to me, quick ! " cried Sallie Owens, 
 in a frightened whisper, to the little girl; "it
 
 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 isn't meant for you, and Monsieur Jean is look 
 ing directly at me. Don't you see you'll get me 
 in trouble ? " 
 
 All this was hurriedly said in a low tone, 
 while Meta quietly took the roll from off her 
 copy-book, and looked up to find the teacher's 
 eyes fixed on her face. 
 
 "What is it?" asked the sonorous voice, 
 gravely. 
 
 " Indeed, I don't know, sir," answered Meta, 
 reluctantly. 
 
 "Humph! bring it here!" 
 
 She prepared to obey, not daring to do other 
 wise; but with visible unwillingness, for Sallie 
 had caught her dress, saying, beseechingly : 
 
 "Hide it, swallow it anything but show it 
 to him ! " 
 
 Now, Meta had had enough of swallowing pa 
 pers, and was not disposed to try that dangerous 
 experiment again ; but she stood irresolute as 
 Sallie's pleading voice reached her ears. Here 
 was an opportunity of making a friend of an en 
 emy ; and why not seize it ? There couldn't be 
 much harm in following her impulse, for Mon 
 sieur could only be angry with her ; while, if she 
 showed the paper, might it not bring down some 
 dreadful consequence on Sallie's head ? Full of 
 the magnanimous purpose of taking the blame
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEV. 1 93 
 
 on herself, and showing the girls that she wasn't 
 as bad as they thought her, Meta deliberately 
 tore the paper in several pieces, just as Mon 
 sieur Jean came down the little space between 
 the desks, his black cap nodding and shaking 
 from the excitement of its owner being so 
 openly defied. 
 
 " What paper was that ? " he asked, in awful 
 tones, grasping Meta's hands, and securing the 
 pieces. 
 
 " I don't know, sir," she faltered, very much 
 alarmed at the course things were taking. It 
 wasn't so easy to be magnanimous, after all. 
 
 "Don't know ?" repeated the professor, quite 
 indignant; " then why tear it up ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " You shall not impose on me," he cried, with 
 a frown. " Stay here one, two, three hours after 
 my class goes, and write out twenty-five lines 
 of ' Phedre.' I teach you to tear up paper in 
 my face ! Humph ! such child ! " 
 
 With a glance out of the little sharp eyes that 
 made her tremble, Monsieur Jean, taking the torn 
 paper, went back to his desk ; and Meta, with 
 a sinking heart, went back to the conjugation 
 of her verb. The moods and tenses danced and 
 swam before the dark eyes, now brimful of 
 tears. She dared not look up, for an ominous
 
 IQ4 ' MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 silence had settled in the room, and she felt 
 those keen eyes were watching her. How was 
 she ever to write " Phedre ? " She didn't under 
 stand half the words, and she knew he would 
 want it done without the book. Oh, how dread 
 ful it was he had forgotten that she never had 
 looked inside of that awful Racine, and didn't 
 belong to that class ! What would become of 
 her? 
 
 Meanwhile, Sallie Owens, though she made no 
 sign, was in quite as miserable a frame of mind. 
 Once she rose in her seat as if to speak, but sat 
 down confusedly when she found Monsieur Jean 
 looking around the room, and did not come to 
 Meta's assistance. Just before dismissing his 
 classes, Monsieur called the culprit up to his 
 desk. She obeyed, with flushed face and hesi 
 tating step, very much afraid to hear her sen 
 tence. The professor silently pointed to a 
 patched-up sheet of paper, lying on his desk, 
 which proved to be the one she had torn. It 
 was a tolerable representation of the scene be 
 tween Meta and Julia on the croquet ground, 
 picturing the former in very alarming colors. 
 
 "You did not caricature yourself," said Mon 
 sieur, grimly ; " now tell me who did !" 
 
 Meta looked up, blushing crimson at sight of 
 herself, so cleverly yet so maliciously carica-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 195 
 
 tured. This was o different from what she had 
 pictured, that she almost gave way under the 
 temptation to expose the artist, who had been 
 amusing herself at her expense ; but she did not 
 abandon her purpose of making a friend of 
 Sallie, even for this. Though despising the lit 
 tleness that could have prompted such a draw 
 ing, Meta wisely resolved not to revenge herself 
 as most children would have done, and, though 
 she felt very sorry to have incurred her teach 
 er's displeasure, would not betray her schoolmate, 
 and refused to answer Monsieur's repeated in 
 quiry as to the author's name. 
 
 " Then you defy me ? " asked Monsieur, glow 
 ering on her "even if I keep you here, one, 
 two, three hours alone, and make you write 
 four, five, six verb ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell," she said, resolutely. 
 
 "Then go back to your seat, and do not move 
 till I tell you go ! " And Monsieur, deeply 
 offended, turned to his book without looking 
 at her again. 
 
 In a few minutes after Meta had returned to 
 her seat, the observed of all eyes, Monsieur Jean 
 dismissed the classes. After the noise of depart 
 ure had subsided, and the door closed after the 
 last girl, Meta bowed her head on the desk to 
 hide her tears. She had looked beseechingly in
 
 196 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 Sallic Owens's face as she went out with the 
 rest, but no help came from that quarter. Sallic, 
 though she admired moral courage in others, did 
 not possess the quality, for all her bold self-con 
 fidence ; and Meta was left to brave Monsieur's 
 anger alone. 
 
 A long silence followed the girl's departure, 
 which was finally broken by the sharp click of 
 the key in Monsieur Jean's desk, as he prepared 
 to leave the room. Gathering up an armful of 
 books and papers, he came to Meta's desk, and 
 looked down on the bowed head reflectively. 
 
 " You no write your ' Phedre ? ' " he asked, 
 suddenly. " Child, what you mean by such 
 ways ? I keep you here all day, if you defy 
 me so ! " 
 
 " I don't mean to defy you," she sobbed, rais 
 ing her tearful face a moment ; " I only can't 
 write 'Phedre.'" 
 
 " Can't write ? What for not ? " 
 
 "Because indeed, Monsieur I'm not in 
 that class, and I can't pronounce the words," 
 she faltered, beseechingly. 
 
 " So ! " said monsieur, in a grave voice. " And 
 you won't tell me who did that piece ? " 
 
 " I can't, I can't ! Oh, please don't ask me ! " 
 she cried, laying her hand on his arm entreat- 
 ingly ; " I couldn't tell you. I'd rather try to 
 write the hard words, Monsieur."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. \QJ 
 
 Monsieur shrugged his shoulders impatiently, 
 and turned away. With his hand on the door, 
 he gave her one more trial. 
 
 " You tell me the smart artist ? Come ! " he 
 cried, coaxingly ; " then you go out and play 
 with the rest ! " 
 
 Meta, too tearful to make answer, could only 
 shake her head. 
 
 "Then," said Monsieur, out of patience 
 "then you write me two verbs, and a long ex 
 ercise ! You no need to mind ' Phedre ' this 
 time ! " And, so saying, he slammed the door 
 after him, and went off. 
 
 Meta bore her sentence bravely. To be sure, 
 the room was very lonely, and looked twice as 
 big now that it was empty of all but desks and 
 benches ; but after a good cry she cheered up, 
 and took out her exercise-book to write the 
 verbs. A little resolution helped the matter 
 wonderfully ; and by the time she had finished 
 one verb, she had conquered the desire to be 
 very miserable, and took a brighter view of the 
 punishment. After all, she did not feel sure that 
 her magnanimous treatment of Sallie Owens was 
 altogether right ; but, having made up her mind 
 to refer the matter to Miss Clifton, she did not 
 trouble herself with doubts, and worked herself 
 into a state of great self-satisfaction at having
 
 IQ8 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 been so brave before the girls who disliked her 
 and called her " spooney." It wasn't a bit 
 "spooney" to take Sallie's punishment upon 
 herself, she was sure of that, and wondered very 
 much what the girls would think of her conduct. 
 
 Meanwhile, the girls were really discussing 
 her as follows : 
 
 " I didn't think she had that much in her," 
 cried one of Sallie's followers, as that young her 
 oine recounted the state of the case to an eager 
 group. " Who would have believed the little 
 thing could actually refuse to tell Monsieur 
 Jean ? " 
 
 "And stay in that dismal room by herself, 
 bothering with old Racine ! I'm glad it wasn't 
 me," said another. 
 
 " It's well it wasn't," interrupted Sallie, scorn 
 fully ; " I don't think I'd have come out of the 
 scrape so well, Emma. I tell you what, girls, 
 I've been real mean and cross to that child, and 
 I intend to make up for it ; she's worth all the 
 rest of you put together ! I'd like to know 
 which of you would have braved Monsieur Jean 
 for a girl that was always snubbing and teasing 
 you! You wouldn't have done it for me, for all 
 you make such a fuss over my perfections." 
 
 " Oh, yes, we would, Sallie ! " cried several in 
 dignant voices.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 1 99 
 
 " Don't believe a word of it," she answered, 
 with great unconcern. "/ like a girl that has 
 courage enough to stand up for a body ; and I 
 tell you what, if anybody meddles with Meta 
 Wallace after this, /'// settle with them ! She's 
 under my protection in the future. I believe 
 there's a heap in her that only wants the right 
 kind of bringing out, and I'm going to develop 
 her qualities. Shes not ' spooney/ and the very 
 first girl that calls her that, or ' Saint Margaret,' 
 or any other name, will please hold herself re 
 sponsible to me /" 
 
 Sallie concluded with a grand air, looking 
 around on her faithful allies in a very determined 
 way; but no one ventured to say anything. 
 Two or three of the girls who were not abso 
 lutely bewitched by her fascinations remem 
 bered that Sallie' s conduct in the class-room had 
 not exhibited the same degree of courage that 
 had called forth her admiration of Meta; but 
 even these made no comment upon the avowed 
 championship of the friendless child, and very 
 naturally resolved to follow their leader in her 
 new freak. 
 
 Under the protection of Sallie Owens, and 
 courted by those who had formerly disdained 
 her, Meta's life at school underwent a marked 
 change. She was at once introduced to the for-
 
 2OO MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 midablc school-clique that had managed hereto 
 fore to make her very unhappy, and she found 
 the difference in her position very pleasant. 
 Though she now saw and heard many things 
 that her conscience could not approve, and very 
 often blushed at the consciousness that Johnny, 
 and even Miss Winny, would not countenance 
 her new friends, Meta was too inexperienced not 
 to give way before the flattering attentions lav 
 ished on her, and gave little heed to the " still, 
 small voice " warning her away from the bland 
 ishments of this miniature world. 
 
 There is often a turning-point in life long be 
 fore it is suspected by those who look on, much 
 less by the one who is actually passing the 
 boundary; and this turn had come for Meta 
 now. Exposed to the leadership of girls of 
 weak principles and many qualities calculated 
 to blind and mislead an inexperienced child, it 
 would have required greater self-control and 
 wiser resistance than are often found in maturer 
 years, had our young friend remained entirely 
 insensible to such influence. It is a mistake 
 to suppose that school impressions are not fre 
 quently lasting, and to place a low estimate up 
 on the powers for good and ill perhaps for a 
 life-time that are vested in early association. 
 When those in whom we find talent and fasci-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2OI 
 
 nation, and who win the first enthusiastic regard 
 of youth, sneer and scoff at what we have been 
 taught to hold sacred, if it does not weaken 
 principle and make us ashamed to avow what is 
 considered a pitiable weakness, it at least rubs 
 off the first horror with which we hear our con 
 victions lightly spoken of and combated. It 
 makes us gloss over and smile at what would 
 once have appalled and dismayed. 
 
 And so with Meta. She was at first greatly 
 shocked at the irreligion and irreverence of the 
 clever girls who sought her out and flattered 
 her, but by degrees she ceased to remonstrate, 
 and sometimes smiled when Sallie indulged her 
 wit at the expense of virtue and holiness. Con 
 science had a hard fight, and was often routed; 
 for Meta had found, even in this quiet retreat, 
 full opportunity of battling against the world.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ELL, Alicia ! " cried Mr. Wallace, one 
 morning, handing an open letter across 
 the table to his wife ; " I think, of all 
 Quixotic creatures, Joe Ascher takes the lead. 
 Read that letter, and tell me what you think of 
 his scheme." 
 
 " Has he found another little miracle of good 
 ness to adopt ? " asked Florence, demurely. 
 
 "No," replied her father, helping himself to 
 the dish before him ; " no, not exactly, daugh 
 ter. He is only going on a pilgrimage to the 
 Holy Land, and writes in the most enthusiastic 
 school-boy style of what he hopes to do and see. 
 Fancy his trying to inspire me with some of his 
 ardor, and begging that I should pick up my 
 family, and go too ! That would be sensible at 
 my time of life eh, Florry ? " 
 
 (202)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 203 
 
 " I don't know about Palestine," returned 
 Florence, laughing; "I can't exactly picture 
 mamma looking at fusty old ruins and tombs. 
 But, papa, why don't you take us to Europe this 
 year ? I think it would be such a good idea to 
 spend the summer at the German spas ; every 
 body goes these days, you know." 
 
 " So they do," cried Mrs. Wallace, looking up 
 eagerly as she finished the letter ; " it is strange 
 that with our means we should go poking off to 
 these wretched American watering-places every 
 year. It was only the other day that Mrs. Liv 
 ingston looked so surprised that I had actually 
 never crossed the ocean. She wouldn't believe 
 me for a long time." 
 
 " Women are never satisfied," said Mr. Wal 
 lace. ".Suppose you do" go, how long would it be 
 before I should have to follow Ascher to Pales 
 tine, just because everybody goes these days?" 
 
 " Really, Mr. Wallace," replied his wife, lan 
 guidly, " if there is to be a discussion about it, 
 pray have your own way. Florry, did you look 
 at that mauve silk at Arnold's yesterday ? " 
 
 Here followed a discussion of the silk in ques 
 tion ; and Mr. Wallace, used to these summary 
 modes of proceeding, turned to the letter, and 
 glanced over the contents again. 
 
 " Where is the enclosure for Meta ? " he asked, 
 suddenly addressing his wife.
 
 2O4 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 "The enclosure for Meta?" she repeated. 
 " Really, I had forgotten all about it. Here it is 
 in the envelope, I think. Let's see what he 
 says to his paragon ! " 
 
 -After a short silence, she exclaimed, pettishly : 
 " Well ! It's quite out of the question to send 
 this letter to Meta ; she is absurdly quiet and 
 grave, anyhow, and I shall put a stop to that 
 intimacy. Thank fortune, the man is going to 
 the ends of the earth ; just listen to his non 
 sense, Edward." And she read out the follow 
 ing extract : 
 
 Do you know, little one, that your earnest face and your 
 stirring words have sent me off on a pilgrimage ? I am so 
 anxious to keep my promise faithfully, that I have determined 
 to carry my skepticism into the very scene of faith; to tread 
 step by step the sorrowful path which has brought about such 
 wonderful results for the good of mankind ; and see if, by the 
 blessing of God and my little friend's prayers, a face-to-face 
 encounter with the grounds of the Christian's belief may not 
 work in me some mighty change. I will not deny that there 
 is much beside my desire to " love God " that has determined 
 me to visit the Holy Land; but what may not such believing 
 prayers as yours, my little friend, effect in working out my 
 salvation ? Of course you are praying for me, are you not ? . . . 
 
 " Now, isn't that an idea ? " cried Mrs. Wal 
 lace, looking up. " As if Meta wasn't hard 
 enough to manage, without filling her head 
 with such things ! I'm very thankful that
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2O$ 
 
 she didn't go with him, really. The next thing, 
 he'll be advising her to go into a convent, or one 
 of the sisterhoods ; and she's so excitable and 
 foolish, I believe she will do something of that 
 kind yet. No, indeed, Mr. Joseph Ascher," she 
 continued, quoting angrily from the letter in 
 hand ; " no, indeed ! You won't get any such 
 ' encouraging letters from your sweet young 
 friend,' nor write her those interesting accounts 
 of ' your battle against doubt.' This is the end 
 of your influence with Meta, or I am very much 
 mistaken ! " 
 
 Here Mrs. Wallace bade Thomas throw Meta's 
 letter in the fire; and when she saw it in ablaze, 
 she gave a sigh of relief, and rose from the table. 
 
 " Do you intend to stop the correspondence ? " 
 asked Mr. Wallace, gravely. " Remember, Ali 
 cia, that we can hardly hold Ascher to his pro 
 posals, if we forbid him to write to the child " 
 
 " I do not desire a penny of his fortune for 
 Meta," interrupted the mother, excitedly ; " when 
 I refused his pretentious offer, I meant just what 
 I said, and do not intend to change my mind. 
 Of course, I shall stop the correspondence! 
 Meta need never know that he wrote, and I shall 
 assuredly give him a piece of my mind, and re 
 quest him not to write to her again. When 
 will you answer his letter ? "
 
 2O6 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " I believe I will not answer at all, but turn 
 the matter over to you, and you may do as you 
 please. I think you are half right. Ascher is a 
 good-enough fellow, but very eccentric ; perhaps 
 it is better for Meta to be kept from his influ 
 ence yet awhile. Meanwhile, Florry," turning 
 to his daughter " meanwhile, you and I will 
 talk about our trip to Europe, won't we ?" 
 
 " That we will ! " cried Florry, clapping her 
 hands. "You are a dear, good, jolly papa to 
 think of it. When shall we go ? " 
 
 " Whenever mamma pleases," he said, smiling. 
 
 " Are you in earnest, Mr. Wallace ? " 
 
 " Perfectly, my dear. Florry's idea is a cap 
 ital one. The only difficulty is, poor little 
 Meta" 
 
 " She can easily stay with Sidney," interposed 
 her mother, hastily. " I am glad to see that she 
 has made so much progress in music and lan 
 guages, and seems to be something of a favorite 
 with Sidney's wife. I haven't the least fear of 
 leaving her in such hands." 
 
 " But we might take her abroad to school," 
 suggested Mr. Wallace, his heart reproaching 
 him for not insisting upon her claims being 
 considered. 
 
 " No," said his wife, very decidedly, " there's 
 no sense in any such thing. Meta is only twelve
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2QJ 
 
 now, recollect, and she must not be interrupted 
 at her studies. If she went abroad, there would 
 be no possibility of having her suitably educated, 
 for I know your courage would give out if she 
 had to be left at one of those foreign schools." 
 
 " That's true," sighed the father, ruefully ; " I 
 expect you know best, Alicia. But poor little 
 Meta has not been at home since she left us, 
 remember." 
 
 " Of course, I remember ; but how could I help 
 it ? The first vacation, wasn't I obliged to take 
 Florry out of the city early ? and last summer, 
 wasn't my trip out West of sufficient impor 
 tance to " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I suppose it's all right," sighed Mr. 
 Wallace, lighting a cigar, and preparing to leave 
 the dining-room. " You and Florry can arrange 
 it between you, somehow, and before we go we 
 will run up for a little visit to Meta, won't we ? " 
 
 " If I can find time. There, Mr. Wallace, pray 
 don't talk as if I were neglecting that child ! I 
 wish, when you are always insinuating such disa 
 greeable things, you would sometimes think of 
 Florry's cough, that keeps me dosing and nurs 
 ing her." 
 
 " Florry's cough ! " echoed her father, looking 
 in the beautiful, fair face of his darling ; " why, 
 sweet child, I never noticed your cough ! How 
 long has she had one, Alicia ? "
 
 2O8 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Just like a man ! " cried Mrs. Wallace, pet 
 tishly. " Your thoughts run in one groove, and 
 I believe if we all died off under your eyes you'd 
 never know it ! Of course, Florry has a slight 
 cough; just enough for me to spend all my 
 pocket money in ' Cherry Pectoral,' and such 
 things," in a grieved tone. 
 
 " I am sure, mamma," said Florry, as the slight 
 cough came on in confirmation of her mother's 
 words " I am sure I hate and detest those syr 
 ups. Don't make papa believe I want any more 
 money to invest in them. You know I threw 
 that last bottle of ' Pectoral ' in the fire-place." 
 
 "Well, well," said Mr. Wallace, soothingly ; 
 " never mind, Florry ! I'll have some kind of 
 cough mixture made into candy for you. Ali 
 cia," he went on, gravely, after sending Florence 
 up-stairs for a hook he had suddenly remem 
 bered to want. " Alicia, that girl is dreadfully 
 pale and f r ag'le. Why have you never before 
 told me about a cough ? " 
 
 " Now, don't get so excited, Mr. Wallace ! 
 There's no use in making a mountain out of a 
 mole-hill. Florry has taken a wretched cold, 
 and she is pale, because she mopes in this un 
 interesting place so long." 
 
 " Humph ! I hope it's no worse, dear. Your 
 aunt died of some lung affection, you know."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2CXJ 
 
 " Mercy on us, Mr. Wallace ! You are enough 
 to scare a body's life out of her ! Don't sug 
 gest such a thing, please. Hush ! here comes 
 Florry now." 
 
 " Good-bye, my pet," said the father, caress 
 ingly, as he kissed her forehead, and handed 
 her a crisp, new bank-note. " Go down town 
 with mamma this morning, and buy something 
 pretty for your European tour. We must get off 
 as soon as you women can fix yourselves up." 
 
 " Flaxseed candy," wrote Mr. Wallace in his 
 note-book as he rode down town. " I'll have to 
 keep an eye on Florry. I don't like that ex 
 treme languor, and she is as thin as a lath. We 
 must try sea air at once. Poor little girl ! her 
 Aunt Edith went off just like this; pale in the 
 morning, rosy as a peach' by dinner-time, and so 
 indifferent to everything ! Lord help us ! " 
 
 It was not often that Mr. Wallace's ejacula 
 tions were of a prayerful kind, but this one came 
 from his heart. He had been so long used to 
 his daughter's delicate appearance that he sel 
 dom thought of it ; but the bare mention of a 
 cough made him shudder. The idea of trying 
 change of scene and the excitement of travel 
 for his darling was fixed in his mind, and from 
 that day extensive preparations went on for the 
 projected tour. 
 
 14
 
 2IO MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 Mr. Wallace, like all unobservant, careless 
 people, when once aroused to a possible danger, 
 exaggerated the extent of it, and made himself 
 miserable over trifles. Florry was dosed with 
 quack medicines, and made to undergo a species 
 of torture ; never allowed to set foot on the 
 ground, and growing heartily sick of being so 
 tenderly watched. Her father was in a fever of 
 impatience to try the sea-voyage, and urged up 
 on his wife the importance of haste whenever 
 they were alone. But Mrs. Wallace did not 
 think seriously of the cough at all, and would 
 not be warned. She was engrossed in prepara 
 tions for departure, and quite carried away at 
 the prospect of a long residence abroad ; for the 
 father had agreed that, if Florry improved very 
 much, they might make a two years' tour, and 
 there was so much Mat in this grand way of 
 " doing Europe " that Mrs. Wallace could think 
 of nothing else. 
 
 Meta's first knowledge of the proposed voy 
 age came to her quite suddenly, and she was 
 overwhelmed with grief. She had cheerfully 
 borne the disappointment of not spending her 
 vacations at home, because she knew that she 
 would have been left at Bellevue with Walker, 
 and never expected her mother to do more than 
 send her large boxes of nice things and plenty
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 211 
 
 of pocket money. There were always summer 
 boarders among the girls at the Leslies', and she 
 found their society much more enlivening than 
 her solitary life at Bellevue would have been. 
 But it was one thing to be content, knowing 
 that in any emergency she might go home or 
 summon her parents, and quite another and 
 more painful thing to be separated by miles of 
 ocean and land from all who were near to her 
 heart. 
 
 Meta had learned a good deal from her expe 
 rience and observation among other girls, and 
 she could but feel the contrast between the rela 
 tions of some of her friends to their mothers and 
 her own case. It was very mortifying that they 
 were all so willing to be rid of her ; this she had 
 felt when the first refusal of permission to spend 
 the holidays at home had come as a sudden 
 damper to her joyful anticipations. But she had 
 never believed it possible that they could leave 
 her and go across the ocean for such a length of 
 time, and sobbed out her mortification and sor 
 row so piteously on her father's shoulder, when 
 he made the announcement, in the brief visit 
 before the family left, that he was more than 
 half inclined to bid her pack up and return with 
 him to New York. Mrs. Wallace had found it 
 impossible to pay Meta a visit, as she was con-
 
 212 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 fined to her room for a week before the vessel 
 sailed ; so Florry and Mr. Wallace made the 
 family adieux, supplying the lonely girl with 
 various kinds of confectionery and sweetmeats, 
 but denying her what she so craved : tc be 
 taken to the family love as Florry was. 
 
 " You will see Mr. Ascher," she said, when 
 composure had been gained by a great effort, 
 " do say ever so much for me, Florry. I wonder 
 why he never wrote to me but once, and did 
 not answer my last letter." 
 
 Florence shook her curls, looking very con 
 scious, and Mr. Wallace hummed a tune. 
 
 " Men forget," announced the sister, senten- 
 tiously ; " and then, Mr. Ascher is going to the 
 Holy Land." 
 
 "/shouldn't forget, though," cried Meta, "if 
 I went ever so often to the Holy Land." And 
 then, a sense of the parting coming over her, she 
 said no more. Disappointments were not new 
 to her; and though she felt grieved that Mr. 
 Ascher could so soon have forgotten, she was 
 hardly surprised that even this friendship had 
 some shade in it. 
 
 Mr. Wallace, though he did not follow his in 
 clinations, and allow Meta to be of the party, 
 did, upon reflection and a consultation with 
 Florry, who sympathized with Meta's depriva-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 tion, allow her to go home for a few days to say 
 good-bye to mamma. Mrs. Wallace, who had 
 never thought of such a simple plan, was quite 
 pleased at sight of the child, and caressed her so 
 affectionately, praising her improved looks and 
 manners with so much satisfaction, that the 
 parting was made still more difficult. 
 
 At last the day of departure arrived, and the 
 steamship went on her way. Meta, standing on 
 the wharf, disconsolate and tearful, amid all the 
 bustle and noise, leaned heavily on Cousin Sid 
 ney's arm, and waved her handkerchief until 
 tears blinded her sight and Mr. Leslie consider 
 ately led her back to the carriage. 
 
 The return to school, and the days of loneli 
 ness that followed, made her very sad ; but by 
 the time her first long, kind letter from her 
 mother was received, she had fallen into the old 
 routine, and regained her cheerfulness. This 
 separation would have been more severely felt 
 had she not been thrown so much on her own 
 resources as to be schooled into greater self- 
 reliance, and somewhat outside the real influ 
 ences of home. Everybody was kind and affec 
 tionate, pitying her for the trial, and lavishing 
 many tendernesses she had never found at 
 home. Miss Clifton and Mrs. Leslie, and even 
 Madame Seville, made the first days pass off
 
 214 META WALLACE. 
 
 more quickly by constant attention, and Mon 
 sieur Jean was kindness itself ; so, on the whole, 
 though it seemed a very bitter thing to bear at 
 first, she really had- lost only in name the watch 
 fulness of a mother's love.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 OR some weeks after Meta's return to 
 school, the influence of Sallie Owens 
 and her clique, which had been silently 
 working so long, was considerably weakened. 
 The society of reckless girls was not so agree 
 able now that she was sad and sorrowful, and 
 many things grated upon her sense of duty 
 which she had not noticed before. The truth 
 is, Meta had yielded unconsciously to the evil, 
 and scarcely knew how far she had strayed from 
 her self-appointed path until, in looking over 
 her summer dresses one half-holiday, she found 
 Johnny's Bible under a pile of muslins, and the 
 page of sentences, once so precious, folded away 
 among her stray papers in an old portfolio. 
 This was the price she had paid for Sallie 
 Owens's championship. The result had not 
 
 (215)'
 
 2l6 At ETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 come about suddenly ; indeed, she was scarcely 
 aware of the gradual change in her feelings. 
 The listlessness with which her Bible was now 
 read was ascribed to the fatigues of study ; and 
 when she found it hard not to be sleepy over her 
 prayers, it never occurred to her that the vanity 
 of lip service had grown into a habit. She had 
 forgotten the exhortation, " Be watchful," and in 
 an unwary hour her heart was besieged by the 
 world. But, after the departure of her family, 
 she suddenly awoke to all this. The earnest 
 talks with Winny Clifton, who had been long 
 neglected for her companions, opened her eyes 
 to the folly of following in such guidance as 
 Sallie's ; but she had not the courage to break 
 off. The girls, who had found her so ready to 
 enter into their various frolics, felt the change, 
 but it was not tangible enough for complaint, 
 and none was made. Yet, whenever she wavered 
 and hesitated, there was always some timely and 
 plausible way devised of keeping her from with 
 drawing, and her good resolutions bore no fruit. 
 
 In this way it happened that Meta became 
 involved in a frolic which led to disastrous re 
 sults, simply because she had lost the capacity 
 of saying "no;" a very short word, but often 
 very difficult to say as Meta found it. 
 
 The expedition was a wildly conceived piece
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 21 J 
 
 of mischief, and promised very little enjoyment ; 
 but Sallie, who headed the set, administered her 
 dexterous flattery, and persuaded Meta into the 
 spirit of the frolic, frequently alluding to the 
 " fun " of getting out of school-bounds, and eat 
 ing as many strawberries as pleased them, with 
 out anybody being the wiser. Had the girls 
 been a little older, it would have seemed very 
 dismal "fun" to take a walk of a mile over 
 muddy roads, during a spell of rainy weather; 
 but girls seldom pause to reflect when mischief 
 is ahead, and these were not wiser than their 
 generation. 
 
 Mr. Leslie's school was at the southern ex 
 tremity of a little village, and the farm, at which 
 Sallie proposed getting her strawberries, exactly 
 at the other end of the long street. It would 
 have been very easy to walk boldly down the 
 plank walk of the said street, in full view of 
 villagers and school windows, with little risk to 
 the feet of the party, had they so dared ; but 
 even the bold Sallie proposed no such proceed 
 ing. They were to climb a low fence in the 
 rear of the garden, and take a circuitous walk of 
 two miles, through a thick wood, in mud and 
 mire, under dripping trees, and at risk of health 
 to say nothing of Mr. Leslie's anger and 
 all because her ready brain had discovered 
 " fun " in the expedition.
 
 2l8 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 After Meta had agreed to be of the party, 
 she would very willingly have withdrawn ; for it 
 was a dark, rainy day, and promised but little 
 pleasure. Sallie Owens was in despair. One 
 or two of the girls, who had bad colds, declined 
 to go at all ; but rain only increased the ardor 
 of some of the most reckless, and Sallie mus 
 tered a considerable party, notwithstanding the 
 leaden clouds and northeasterly wind and rain. 
 The time chosen for this unlucky frolic was the 
 afternoon study hour, when the girls were only 
 occasionally visited in their several rooms by 
 one of the teachers, and might hope to get off 
 without being detected in the start. 
 
 After dinner, when Meta was hurrying along 
 one of the passages to join the party, who had 
 agreed to meet in the bowling alley, fearing that 
 she was too late, she suddenly encountered Mon 
 sieur Jean. The tassel on his black cap nodded 
 in time to his cheerful greeting as he paused 
 and looked down in her face. 
 
 " So !" he said, smiling. " You will come with 
 me, petite, and try what we can do with that 
 new song ? " 
 
 " It is study hour," she sakl, blushing at the 
 equivocation. 
 
 " Ah, but so is my music lessson a study ! 
 Come ! You need not fear madame's anger I
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2 1C) 
 
 make it all straight, I promise you ! No ? What 
 for you so careful with study hour to-day ? Don't 
 you know how many tjmcs we spend it to 
 gether ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Meta, still blushing, and shrink 
 ing back from his outstretched hand ; " yes, I 
 know that, but I cannot go with you now." 
 
 " What for not ? " persisted Monsieur, looking 
 at her blushing face keenly. " Humph ! Sup 
 pose I say you must go, what then ? " 
 
 " I would beg you to let me off," she replied, 
 bravely ; " I have promised " 
 
 " To study eh ? " 
 
 " No, Monsieur, to go off somewhere ! Don't 
 ask me any more, please ! " 
 
 Monsieur Jean looked into her face a moment, 
 and made up his mind. " She is in some trouble, 
 poor child!" he thought, compassionately ; "I 
 will take her away till she forgets it." Aloud 
 he said : 
 
 "Come, petite, you not to study, to-day. We 
 will go to the music-room. Don't shake your 
 head ! Come ! " 
 
 Seizing her hand, he turned her around in the 
 passage, and, laughing at her discomfiture, led 
 her straight to madame's room. 
 
 " Here, I bring you one industrious child," he 
 cried, as madame opened the door, "who will
 
 22O META WALLACE, OR 
 
 not give up her study, though I command her 
 to practice. What you think of such a scholar ? " 
 
 Madame looked at the pair searchingly, and 
 then laughed too. Meta said not a word, though 
 she felt very guilty, until madame commended 
 her industry, and then she found courage to 
 speak. 
 
 "I don't deserve it," she said, desperately. 
 " Monsieur is altogether mistaken. I had prom 
 ised to go somewhere, and did not intend to 
 study at all." 
 
 " To go somewhere ? " repeated madame, in 
 stantly looking grave ; " where, and with whom, 
 my dear ? " 
 
 Meta shook her head despondingly. 
 
 " I know you will be very angry," she said, 
 humbly ; " but, indeed, I cannot tell you." 
 
 Monsieur Jean shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Her way ! " he said, with a gesture of com 
 passion. " You no get it out of her, madame. 
 She keep secret better than any one I know. 
 Come ! Let me take off my prisoner, and we 
 go sing our song." 
 
 But madame would not consent to this. Meta 
 was invited into the bright, pretty room, and 
 all Monsieur's entreaties refused. The disap 
 pointed Frenchman gave madame a piece of 
 advice very rapidly in his own language, but 
 she only smiled and shut the door.
 
 THE SEEiJ AND UNSEEN. 221 
 
 When they were alone, madame exhausted 
 her eloquence on Meta in vain. She would not 
 tell where she had intended to spend her after 
 noon, and the teacher, after a moment's reflec 
 tion, concluded to keep her in durance vile until 
 she did confess. 
 
 Meta stood at the window, looking out at the 
 rain, almost glad to have escaped her walk, and 
 wondering what the girls would think of her for 
 deserting them. To be sure, she had not in 
 tended to do so, but would Sallie believe this ? 
 Her mind was very much divided between relief 
 at missing the dangerous expedition and fear of 
 losing ground with the girls ; though she had 
 quite decided that it would be very mean if she 
 betrayed them, and resolved not to save herself 
 from a scolding at their expense. The time 
 came when she would have given much had she 
 only made a timely confession ; but, not having 
 the gift of foresight, she judged the case by her 
 code of honor, and refused to betray the expe 
 dition. 
 
 Meanwhile, after exhausting their patience 
 and abusing Meta's delay, the girls went off with 
 out her, climbing over the fence without acci 
 dent, and running and walking through the wet 
 woods. By the time Mr. Smith's farm was 
 reached, a great many wished themselves back
 
 222 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 at school ; for there was very little amusement 
 in being wet and chilled through. The servant 
 who answered the bell stared wonderingly at the 
 group of dripping figures. 
 
 " Be's you the girls from Leslie's ? " she cried. 
 
 " Yes," returned Sallie, who was spokesman. 
 " We have come to eat strawberries ; go and 
 tell Mr. Smith at once." 
 
 "Well, I never!" muttered the girl, as she 
 went away and knocked at a door in the rear 
 of the house. 
 
 After some delay, a young man came to the 
 door. 
 
 "Father's out," he said, his eyes twinkling; 
 " but I guess you can have the strawberries. 
 Come along ! " 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " cried several voices ; and 
 the troop of girls followed him through the 
 house, leaving foot-prints on the shining floor, 
 out to the terraced garden, where Mr. Smith's 
 luscious fruit grew in great quantities. The 
 rain poured steadily down, the berries were 
 sandy, and the ground too wet for comfort; 
 altogether the " fun " was dismal. Mr. Smith's 
 son, enjoying this unexpected visit, and being a 
 lover of fun, dexterously managed to prolong the 
 amusement; for whenever a tired girl attempted 
 to start the party, he would propose to show
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 22$ 
 
 larger and sweeter fruit in another part of the 
 garden, so a considerable time was consumed. 
 At last a start was made, and Sallie offered to 
 pay for what they had eaten ; but this the boy 
 refused, assuring them that he was fully compen 
 sated by the afternoon's enjoyment ; and, hav 
 ing no time to waste words, they were obliged to 
 accept as a gift what they had expected to buy. 
 
 The walk homeward was tiresome and cold. 
 Sallie, declaring she felt half-sick, was very cross 
 and fault-finding. Every one agreed mentally 
 that the whole thing was a miserable failure, 
 though in Sallie's present mood it was scarcely 
 advisable to say so. It .was a relief to the whole 
 party when the trees of Glencove School were 
 visible through the rain. Over the fence they 
 scrambled, one after another ; and as each be 
 draggled figure reached the other side, an excla 
 mation of surprise and dismay was wafted back 
 to the others. There, a few paces from the 
 fence, stood Mr. Leslie, under a big umbrella, 
 looking very stern and uncompromising. 
 
 " Well, young lady ! " he cried, addressing a 
 girl who could get no further than the top of 
 the fence, through sheer fright ; " make a little 
 exertion, do ; for I am quite chilled by this rain, 
 whatever you may be." 
 
 " O papa ! " groaned Julia, whom it proved to
 
 224 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 be, as she caught her foot in the fence, and rolled 
 over at his feet.* 
 
 Mr. Leslie gravely raised her, without making 
 any comment, and drew her under the umbrella. 
 The girls were escorted in perfect silence to the 
 house, one on each side of Mr. Leslie, w.ho said 
 nothing during the wet tramp through the gar 
 den. As each mortified girl hung her head be 
 fore his rebuking glance, one thought alone was 
 predominant. Had they been severally ques 
 tioned, the result would have been surely to this 
 effect : " That hateful Meta Wallace ! It's all her 
 work, I'll be bound ! " 
 
 As they were wet to the skin, and shivering, 
 the case was too serious for immediate disci 
 pline, and they were left to their own reflections, 
 forbidden to leave their respective apartments. 
 
 At a subsequent meeting of those in author 
 ity, there was much discussion of the most fea 
 sible punishment; but the side of justice, tem 
 pered with mercy, conquered. Banishment for 
 a month from all the privileges and society of 
 their companions was the sentence. 
 
 When Madame Seville entered her room, after 
 the meeting of teachers, she went up to Meta, 
 and forced her to look in her face. Then, after 
 recounting the discovery of her friends' frolic, 
 and the punishment devised, she said, severely:
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 225 
 
 " This is what you were about to do, Meta ! 
 Don't deny it." 
 
 "I do not intend to deny it," she cried, 
 proudly. Yes, this is what I was going to do ! " 
 "Then you shall share the sentence," said 
 madame, frowning. It was not through any 
 sense of duty that you were not with the rest, 
 and it is only just." 
 
 "I don't complain," interrupted Meta, petu 
 lantly. " Yes, it is just. I don't want to escape 
 punishment." 
 
 "Don't be so indifferent and rude, Meta," 
 cried madame, impatiently. "You ought to 
 have known better than to be drawn into such 
 a thing. Why didn't you confess hours ago ? " 
 " Because I don't care to be a traitor, mad 
 ame." 
 
 "A traitor!" repeated the lady, scornfully. 
 "I have no doubt you think it was very honora 
 ble and brave to let these misguided girls risk 
 health and the confidence of their teachers, when 
 one word from you would have put a stop to it 
 all. Yoji would have shown better sense and 
 more courage to have braved their anger, for 
 the sake of saving them from worse than scold 
 ing." 
 
 ^ Meta turned away her face to hide the tears. 
 She had not intended to do anything wrong, 
 '5
 
 226 META WALLACE. 
 
 and she could not make up her mind to betray 
 the girls' expeSition ; but, though she resented 
 madame's speech, and thought hard that the re 
 sponsibility should be laid upon her, she never 
 theless regretted that she had not told, in viola- 
 lation of her ideas of honor, as the possible 
 consequences of the frolic loomed up before 
 her.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 NLY a few days of the allotted punish 
 ment had passed, when the school was 
 suddenly overshadowed by a grievous 
 calamity : the presence of sickness and proba 
 bility of death. The news, following so soon 
 after the excitement of the frolic, that one of 
 the heads of the reckless party was stricken 
 with sudden illness, created a panic among the 
 girls. Sallie Owens, who had been feverish 
 and ailing for some days before her tramp in 
 the rain, was suffering from the exposure in 
 an acute attack of pneumonia. The physician 
 shook his head gravely, as soon as he took a 
 survey of the case, and promised the anxious 
 Mrs. Leslie a very sick patient. 
 
 " It is a very serious affair," he said, ear- 
 
 (227)
 
 228 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 nestly ; " there is so much inflammation that I 
 foresee tough times possibly great danger." 
 
 When the news spread through the house, 
 after a few days of her illness, that the antici 
 pated danger had really come, and Sallie was 
 likely to die, all discipline- was at an end. Girls 
 went about the passages whispering, with fright 
 ened faces, teachers were alarmed, and the 
 sharers of Sallie's favor grievously sad. Meta's 
 distress knew no bounds. Madame's words re 
 curred to her again and again, and she tortured 
 herself with a thousand longings that she had 
 prevented the expedition, even in the way she 
 so much despised. Full of her nervous self-re- 
 bukings, she found no comfort in the fact that 
 this was not her own doing ; that, as the doctor 
 declared, the exposure had only developed the 
 unfavorable symptoms, and not originated the 
 disease ; that in all probability the attack would 
 have been just as serious, since congestion could 
 but ensue from the condition of the lungs. Full 
 of self-reproach, she had sought Miss Clifton and 
 poured out her grief and distress. 
 
 " O Miss Winny ! " she cried, sorrowfully ; " I 
 cannot help feeling that I might have saved 
 her " 
 
 " But that would have been quite impossible," 
 interrupted her friend. " Remember, Sallie's life
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 22 9 
 
 is in other hands ; and though you may be sin 
 cerely grieved to have encouraged her reckless 
 ness, don't allow yourself to believe that any act 
 of yours could have stayed God's design. We 
 should only take the lesson to heart, poor child ! 
 and remember to keep our lamps trimmed ; for 
 ' in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of 
 Man cometh/ " 
 
 Miss Clifton took her station at Sallie's side 
 as soon as the worst was known, and, though she 
 could not render her much bodily service, the 
 sick girl clung, in her sore need, to the very one 
 whose beautiful life had provoked so many un 
 kind speeches in her days of gayety and mirth ; 
 and it was to Winny that the task of prepar 
 ing the young soul for its journey was confided. 
 Few had greater tenderness of heart, none more 
 perfect faith and trust in the promises that 
 would lighten the shadows of death ; and Win- 
 ny's whole soul was engaged in the sad office of 
 ministering comfort to the fearful, doubting girl, 
 who was appalled at the suddenness of her sum 
 mons. At first her grief and fear were over 
 whelming ; but by degrees the distressing dread 
 subsided, and her eyes were opened to the peace 
 offered, as well as to the recklessness and useless- 
 ness of her life. She could not have fallen into 
 better hands than Winny Clifton's, who had,
 
 23O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 herself, battled with doubts and fears, and knew 
 so well how to meet the sorrowful questions that 
 came up after the first surprise and dread were 
 over ; and after many hours of earnest, prayer 
 ful effort, she enjoyed the supreme happiness of 
 comforting the parting soul with some of her 
 own faith, lessening Sallie's fears, and imparting 
 trust in the promises that never yet have failed 
 the contrite heart. 
 
 After Sallie had been told of her condition, 
 and Winny's soothing words had brought that 
 calm of spirit that was so great a contrast to the 
 first outburst of dread, Meta's first visit was al 
 lowed. Bending over her friend, with the rising 
 sobs choking the words she longed to say, she 
 could not look in that pale face, so changed 
 since she last saw it, without a pang of self- 
 reproach for the little she had ever done to help 
 her wavering, undisciplined heart. Sallie was 
 greatly moved, but she did not say much ; only, 
 when Meta's sobs became so loud and distress 
 ing, she whispered : 
 
 "Never mind me, Meta; don't cry! Miss 
 Winny says I need not be afraid ! Only, dear 
 friend, never forget my fate ! Please forgive 
 me " 
 
 "O Sallie! Don't talk about my forgiving 
 you," sobbed Meta, overcome ; " / have nothing 
 to forgive ! "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2^1 
 
 9 
 
 The tears stole down Sallie's cheek at these 
 words, and she turned her face to the wall for a 
 few moments; then, raising Meta's hand, she 
 
 said, slowly : 
 
 "What were those lines you read me 
 about 'Death and the dark vale?' Can't you 
 say them for me? I remember I liked them 
 
 then." 
 
 How can I say them, dear Salhe, when 1 
 "Never mind," said Sallie, soothingly; "you 
 
 needn't do it, if you would rather not." 
 But Meta saw the disappointed expression i 
 
 her face, and, mastering her emotion, repeated in 
 
 a trembling voice the beautiful lines : 
 
 When Death is coming near, 
 When thy heart shrinks with fear, 
 
 And thy limbs fail, 
 Then raise thy hands, and pray 
 To Him who lights the way 
 Through the dark vale. 
 See'st thou the eastern dawn i 
 Hear'st thou in the red morn 
 
 The angels' song ? 
 Oh, lift thy drooping head, 
 Thou who in gloom and dread 
 
 Hast lain so long. 
 Death comes to set thee free I 
 Oh, meet him cheerily 
 
 As thy true friend ; 
 And all thy fears shall cease, 
 And in eternal peace 
 Thy penance end.
 
 232 
 
 MET A WALLACE. 
 
 " ' Eternal peace,' " repeated Sallie, feebly ; 
 " oh, if I could only be sure! " 
 
 Meta, without daring to trust her voice, hur 
 riedly left the room, and, running to Miss Win- 
 ny's chamber, threw herself in an agony of tears 
 on the bed.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 N the eighth day after Sallies seizure, 
 the girls who had known her best were 
 summoned for a last farewell. The 
 dying girl was greatly moved, and even in her 
 excessive weakness strove to say something 
 comforting to each, as the tearful faces bent 
 
 over her. 
 
 "It's only a little while, old friends," she said, 
 slowly and with effort, " and then we will meet 
 again. I have been very rebellious, but God is 
 merciful to forgive me, and I trust in him. He 
 has given me time, and opened my eyes to all 
 my willful sin. You know he came to save sin 
 ners, girls? Miss Winny says so God bless 
 
 her!" 
 
 Even this exertion exhausted Sallie's strength, 
 and when Winny bent over to administer stimu- 
 
 (233)
 
 234 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 lant, she saw a pained, weary look in her eyes. 
 Motioning the girls to withdraw, she took the 
 restless hands in hers, and whispered words of 
 faith and comfort, till the short, hard breathing 
 had ceased in a quiet sleep. Sitting there in 
 the still chamber, almost in the immediate pres 
 ence of Death, she could but think of the mercy 
 that had been shown the trembling soul. What 
 if she had been cut off with no time to name the 
 name of Jesus, or if her mind had been too 
 clouded with mists to grasp the peace and sal 
 vation offered her ? Instead of this, the Lord, 
 mighty to save, had stretched forth his hand, 
 and gathered the stray sheep into the fold. 
 
 Sallie died very peacefully during that night, 
 with her hand clasped in Miss Clifton's. The 
 new-found peace did not desert her at the last, 
 and she passed away with hope and faith in the 
 Lord Jesus. 
 
 When the tearful, awe-struck companions, 
 who had so long followed their clever leader, 
 entered the silent chamber where Sallie lay 
 shrouded in the midst of pure white flowers, 
 there was not a heart but felt sorrowful and 
 reproached. Few there were whose conscience 
 did not recall hasty words, and unkind actions, 
 and bitter feelings cherished against one who 
 could never resent or pardon more. A strange 
 worker is Death :
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 He shows our faults as fires at night ; 
 He sweeps their failings out of sight; 
 He clothes their good in heavenly light. 
 O Christ, our Life I predate the work of Death, 
 
 And do this now ! 
 
 Thou who art Love 1 thus hallow our beloved 1 
 Not Death, but thou ! 
 
 Sitting beside Miss Clifton at Sallie's coffin, 
 Meta's greatest life-lesson was learned. The 
 reckless, indifferent state in which she had been 
 gradually losing her earnest desires after holi 
 ness was swept away in an instant as the past 
 came up in review before her sorrowful heart, 
 and she saw how ignobly she had fallen in her 
 first battle with temptation. She had been 
 healed through another's stripes, but yet she 
 was healed, and this season of self-abasement 
 and condemnation did the work of years. It 
 seemed impossible to realize that this pale, cold 
 figure was all that was left of the eager, bright, 
 untiring spirit that had held such sway in the 
 minds of her companions. The busy hands 
 were folded over the quiet heart in eternal 
 calm ; the bright eyes were closed, and the long, 
 dark lashes lay peacefully on her pale cheek. 
 A slight breeze stirring the shining waves of 
 hair gave such a mockery of life that Meta 
 leaned her head on the coffin, and cried bitterly. 
 
 " Oh, if I could only hear her speak once
 
 236 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 more!" she sighed. "It is all so strange so 
 hard to bear ! " 
 
 " Shall I tell you my thoughts, Meta ? " asked 
 Miss Clifton. 
 
 O change ! O wondrous change I 
 
 Burst are the prison bars ; 
 This moment there, so low, 
 So agonized,- and now 
 
 Beyond the stars ! 
 
 O change ! stupendous change 1 
 
 There lies the soulless clod; 
 The sun eternal breaks 
 The new immortal wakes 
 
 Wakes with his God 1 
 
 When the solemn funeral service was read, 
 and Sallie's body consigned to the dust, a dull 
 quiet settled on all hearts. It had been so sud 
 den and overwhelming that it was more like a 
 troubled dream than reality. Sallie having only 
 distant relatives, and they living far off in the 
 West, she was buried in the pretty church-yard 
 of the village, almost in sight of the girls she 
 had so long ruled. Yet the school relapsed in 
 to the old routine, so sadly interrupted, and life's 
 busy whirl went on the same. It is a strange, 
 sad fact that death's solemn warning wears off 
 so fast ; that life's active round so soon begins. 
 Those in whom our hearts are centered pass
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 237 
 
 away forever, and yet we learn to bear what 
 seems unbearable, and live to find in other ties 
 the needs we crave. Like a pebble thrown into 
 a stream, the ruffling of the waters is but tran 
 sient, and it is only in secret and in silence that 
 we hold the anniversaries of the heart's dead.
 
 CHAPTER 'XXVI. 
 
 T was a brilliant day in early summer, 
 and the woods around Glencove were 
 redolent with a thousand sweets. The 
 girls had collected under the leafy branches, 
 near a pretty sparkling stream, for an impromptu 
 picnic, their merry voices making the echoes 
 ring with mirth, and happy faces completing a 
 very pretty picture in the old woods. 
 
 Somewhat apart from the rest, Winny Clif 
 ton's chair was wheeled under a large oak, 
 where she could witness the happy sports of 
 her gay companions without throwing restraint 
 over 'their girlish freedom of speech and the 
 hilarity of their various plays. She was always 
 a welcome member of every pleasure party, and 
 it had come to be a part of her duties in the 
 school to accompany the out-door ramblers ; her 
 (238)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 239 
 
 influence being such a happy one that she was 
 easily induced to forego her more quiet enjoy 
 ments at home for the sake of giving the girls 
 an occasional holiday. 
 
 But though the sunshine on this sweet sum 
 mer day made a glory of the scene, and the light 
 laughter of the merry creatures told of no shadow, 
 there was one amongst them whose heart was 
 sad, and her- face clouded over, though she 
 forced herself to join in the general gayety. 
 Meta Wallace, grown into a tall, graceful girl, 
 with a face of rare sweetness, and most attract 
 ive, winning ways, was taking her farewell ram 
 ble in Glencove woods ; and she sat silently by 
 Winny's side, very sad and sorrowful that her 
 school-days were over, and the morrow would 
 find her on the way to the great world and her 
 old home. 
 
 To most young girls an entree into brilliant 
 society and the cessation of school duties 
 brings unmixed delight; but Meta was no 
 ordinary, thoughtless school-girl, who looked no 
 further than the present for her happiness. 
 She had found such peaceful enjoyment in the 
 quiet pursuit of duty, and her life had grown so 
 much more one of purpose, with the experience 
 gained in her miniature world, that she had no 
 desire to increase the difficulties of the Chris-
 
 24O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 tian's path by mixing in the countless tempta 
 tions that would await her in her new sphere. 
 The earnestness and seriousness of her child 
 hood had only developed with years, and her 
 greatest desire and longing was to live above 
 the trivialities and follies to which she had 
 yielded in the first unguarded days of her school- 
 life. The death of her old ideal of girlishness, 
 Sallie Owens, had made a lasting impression 
 upon her thoughtful nature ; and, the lesson of 
 life's vanity once learned, she never forgot the 
 agony with which such knowledge was gained. 
 A favorite alike with teachers and pupils for 
 unwavering rectitude and engaging manners, 
 she had grown to be such a natural part of the 
 school that her recall to New York on the re 
 turn of her family to America caused the 
 greatest sorrow among them all. To Meta it 
 was not like going home; she felt almost a 
 stranger .among her own kindred. They had 
 never done anything to make home pleasant to 
 her, and here she had found such stanch friends 
 that, though she desired greatly to look again in 
 her parents' faces, she sighed that it was to be a 
 lasting leave of the newer but precious friends 
 who had taken her, in her great loneliness, to 
 their hearts, and, developing all that was pure 
 and noble in her character, had helped her to 
 subdue and overcome her faults.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2^1 
 
 And so it was that she sat at Winny's feet, 
 apart from the others, with her head resting on 
 her friend's knee, and a far-away, wistful look in 
 her great dark eyes, as if she would fain read 
 what the future had in store for her. 
 
 " I scarcely know whether to be glad or 
 sorry," said Miss Clifton, playing with the bright 
 curls in her lap. 
 
 " O Winny ! " said Meta, reproachfully ; " how 
 can you find anything pleasant in my going 
 away ? " 
 
 " Not pleasant, little friend, but yet not so 
 very serious as you think. It is very easy to sit 
 apart from the battle-field and plan a victory, 
 but surely it is more noble and glorious not to 
 shun the fray, but to engage in the strife and 
 the bloodshed " before seeking to wear the 
 laurels." 
 
 " Ah ! but if I am defeated and trodden under 
 foot?" 
 
 " Will that lessen the victory, think you, dear 
 Meta? I am afraid you count too much upon 
 your own strength, and expect to gain your con 
 quests unaided." 
 
 " Nay, Winny, it is far otherwise with me ! It 
 is just because I fear my own weakness, and 
 know so well how easily I am overcome, that I 
 would rather live away from temptation." 
 16
 
 242 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " A profound Christian sentiment," said Miss 
 Clifton, playfully, " but one I did not expect to 
 hear from you" 
 
 " Then you think it is wiser to expose your 
 self to dangers which you know will prove too 
 much for your strength ? " 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. I mean, simply, that 
 God has given us our appointed spheres of duty, 
 and it is cowardly to shun them. I do not doubt 
 that you will find it harder to be religious in the 
 midst of fashionable life, surrounded with every 
 luxury that wealth can buy ; but it is your path, 
 and you must tread it. I question very much 
 whether your old pensioner, Kitty Laurence, 
 would not prefer to change places with you. I 
 do not doubt that she fancies her querulousness 
 and ill-temper would be improved, and her path 
 to heaven made much easier, if she had no 
 thought of the morrow, and its bread to get, 
 and the little mouths to feed. So it is just im 
 possible for us to know what we need, Meta. 
 One thing should sustain you : that ' He who has 
 begun in you a good work is able to finish it," 
 and that he never suffers us to be tempted above 
 what we are able to bear. ' As thy day, so shall 
 thy strength bo.' " 
 
 " But, Winny, you don't know how hard it is 
 to be good when every man's hand seems to be
 
 THE SEEN AND Uftt.FaN. 243 
 
 against you and your best intentions are misun 
 derstood ! Here I have had no such drawbacks, 
 and I am afraid of the shoals and quicksands 
 that I know I must encounter." 
 
 " And do you think the recluse saints of old 
 had greater merit for living away from tempta 
 tion ? " asked her friend, earnestly. " I have al 
 ways believed it one of the greatest mistakes of 
 early Christianity, that one of its precept.-, en 
 joined separation from the woild, where God 
 designs us to be tested ; and tine chief merit was 
 to shut one's self away from humanity, and its 
 countless demands upon our time and patience 
 and sympathy, in the vain idea that a negative 
 sort of goodness whicn encountered no obstacle 
 to progress was of more avail than the daily, 
 hourly warfare of right against wrong. So, Meta 
 dear, don't seek your models in those far ages. 
 Come to the present, where the Christian is 
 taught that God's will is as surely worked out 
 in the crowded thoroughfare, jostling against 
 the worldly and covetous, exposed to dazzling 
 visions of the pleasures of sin and the pride of 
 life, with countless voices urging to the broad 
 path, and many drawbacks to virtue, as though 
 the Christian were shut away by high convent 
 walls from the sounds of the busy world, and 
 had no greater crime in prospect than yawning 
 over his litanies or his beads."
 
 244 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Brava ! " cried Monsieur Jean, nodding his 
 head, and smiling, as he came from behind Miss 
 Clifton's chair, where he had heard the whole 
 of her eager speech. "So, that is what you 
 tell my friend Meta ? What a little Protestant 
 it is!" 
 
 " Forgive me," said Winny, earnestly, " if I 
 have said anything to offend the convictions of 
 our good Monsieur Jean ! I had no idea you 
 were within hearing." 
 
 " Well ? Have I said I admire not your ad 
 vice ? Bah ! " shrugging his shoulders ; " I like 
 better your thoroughfare, Miss Clifton, than the 
 convent walls ! But we .shall not talk of this, 
 when our sunbeam is going to-morrow ! You 
 and I can take our big quarrels another time, if 
 you will. Ah, ma petite ! Who sings for me 
 now the dear ' Di provenza ' and the other 
 songs ? I will have to run down to your great 
 city one of these days when you are famous, to 
 have my old ears rejoiced with that voice I have 
 bring up and pet like my birds. Eh, petite ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Monsieur ! / shall never be famous. 
 But when Florry marries, and mamma is full of 
 her busy cares, I will run away from the world 
 for awhile, and sing for you here. They would 
 not miss me, you know." 
 
 " Heyday ! You run off from father and mother
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 245 
 
 like that? I think better things of you, petite ! 
 So!" he went on soothingly, as she blushed and 
 attempted to speak. " So ! Don't say a word ; 
 I know what you think of in that little head. 
 Just sing me the ' Di provenza ' once more, and 
 we won't quarrel our last day together." 
 
 Meta, with some effort, complied ; and the 
 sweet, clear voice warbled out the touching, 
 plaintive song, with a yearning tenderness for 
 the " pleasant days " that were gone forever. 
 There were tears in Miss Clifton's eyes when 
 the last note died away, and Monsieur had re 
 course to his long-stemmed pipe as a solace. 
 The parting was not mentioned again, though 
 the three sat together until the picnic party 
 came noisily and gleefully forward to remind 
 them of the inviting luncheon set out under the 
 trees in the grove. 
 
 On the following day, Meta left Glencove in 
 the old-fashioned, lumbering stage. Very bitter 
 tears were shed as the last basket and parcel 
 were deposited on the seat, and the driver, who 
 had very little sentiment, and had stood ner 
 vously watching the lengthy adieux, assured Mr. 
 Leslie that it was time to be off. 
 
 If parting is " sweet sorrow," we have never 
 found it so. One of life's sadnesses is, to make 
 pleasant friends who grow into our every-day
 
 246 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 interests and become a part of the sunshine of 
 existence, only, when the " pleasant ' days " have 
 grown very necessary to our happiness, to be 
 separated by the most impossible barriers and 
 scattered widely through the world, never again 
 to recover just the same nearness and oneness 
 of soul. Which of us has not experienced the 
 disappointment that follows a visit to old famil 
 iar scenes ? The one desire of the homesick 
 heart, cherished as a greater blessing than those 
 we have in possession, has been to go back from 
 the innumerable cares of noontide to the sweet 
 freshness of the careless morning ; to touch the 
 hands and hear the voices that made up the hap 
 piness of youth ; to rest under the old roof-tree, 
 and look on the same green grass and waving 
 branches, and even to sit in the quaint old 
 chairs. We go back, and the. vision is dispelled. 
 Our cherished dreams cannot stand against the 
 searching light of change and decay. If the 
 voices and hands are left us, there is some new 
 tone or touch that makes us know ourselves 
 strangers ; for other ties and the march of years 
 have imparted a querulousness and a hardness 
 to both, of which they are quite as unconscious 
 as we are of the change in ourselves. 
 
 And so with the old home. It may have stood 
 the winds and rains of time, but the welcoming
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 247 
 
 faces at the windows are gone. The old door 
 creaks on its hinges, and the steps are worn, and 
 everything looks like decay ; while strange peo 
 ple come out to gaze at you for your sentiment, 
 and you go away with a sigh from the painful 
 shadow of what has been to you such a glorious 
 reality in the past. You have no desire, now, to 
 go over the threshold and sit in the wainscoted 
 room. You feel quite sure that there are no 
 quaint chairs, and fire-screens, and bright brass 
 fender, which was once your fairy-land for 
 shapes. You have a mournful recollection that 
 the sweet mother-face no longer holds its place 
 over the mantel, but has gone away, long ago, 
 to the possession of your elder brother, and can 
 never be again the guardian spirit of the old 
 parlor. 
 
 Perhaps it is better so ; else life would hold 
 too many precious things, and we should not 
 yearn for that house not made with hands, eter 
 nal in the heavens. If these frail tenements 
 endured forever, and we had no change nor de 
 cay to mourn, would we ever think of our 
 Father's house at all ? The heart is so prone to 
 grasp and cherish only the tangible, that the 
 hard lesson is wisely ordained, that partings 
 and " pieces of rings " and " snatches of songs " 
 so often remind us that here we " have no con 
 tinuing city."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 RAY, draw the curtain, Meta ; the sun 
 makes my head ache. There ! You 
 needn't make the room as dark as 
 pitch ! I said the curtain, not the blinds ! Who 
 can see to read now, I wonder ? Felicie, go over 
 there and see what you can do ! Of course, my 
 lace will have to be put off, if Meta will be so 
 stupid ! " 
 
 So spoke Florry Wallace impatiently, from 
 the depths of her soft pillows on the lounge, 
 where she was wasting the long summer after 
 noon over a new novel. Felicie was busily sew 
 ing some delicate lace in the neck of a gossamer 
 party dress, to be worn that evening by the 
 beautiful lounger ; and Meta sat at the window, 
 writing a lengthy epistle to Miss Clifton, scarcely 
 conscious of the hot sunshine, that made Florry's 
 (248)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 head ache, in the pleasure of telling her friend 
 the secret thoughts of her busy brain. This 
 was one of Florry's nervous days, and nothing 
 suited her. Felicie had exhausted her ingenuity 
 in the mysteries of sewing lace in a dress, and 
 sighed despairingly at the peevish orders, so 
 impossible to execute. 
 
 " There ! I declare you've done it wrong for 
 the sixth time," said Florence, tossing over the 
 lace robe contemptuously when the blinds were 
 arranged to her satisfaction. " I don't believe 
 you gave a bit of attention to Sistine's instruc 
 tions in Paris, though I paid such an enormous 
 sum for you. Felicie, you French people have 
 not a particle of gratitude ! Don't you know 
 it's as old as the hills to gather ruffles ? Give 
 me the thimble and needle this minute ! No ! 
 not yours ! Do you think I would wear your 
 thimble, really, Felicie ? " 
 
 The French maid murmured something very 
 low in her own language, and looked very hum 
 ble ; but the little black eyes flashed, neverthe 
 less. While Florry was interested in the matter 
 of her laces, she vouchsafed to give Felicie a few 
 hints, and, when she had started the ruffle in the 
 right direction, lay back again on her pillows, 
 and took up the book she had thrown down on 
 the floor. A few minutes' silence ensued, the
 
 25O AfETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 scratching of Meta's pen being the only sound ; 
 and for awhile Florry's brow was unruffled. But 
 presently she began turning and sighing, after 
 the manner of all nervous people, and finally 
 threw down the novel again. Meta was culprit 
 now. 
 
 " Meta, whom on earth are you writing to ? I 
 declare, it's the most disagreeable thing in the 
 world to hear a pen go scratch, scratch, when 
 your head aches. What sense is there in writ 
 ing such volumes to that lame woman ? and I 
 don't believe you've even looked at the dress 
 you're going to wear to-night. Pray, stop that 
 everlasting scratching ! I won't have a nerve 
 left." 
 
 Meta had stopped at the first word, feeling 
 very impatient at being interrupted in the mid 
 dle of a sentence, and held the offending pen 
 over the inkstand. As Florry's cross tone in 
 creased, she was conscious of a determination to 
 go on writing, in spite of it ; but Miss Clifton's 
 last letter, with its striking sentences, lay before 
 her eyes, and she could not be oblivious to some 
 lines staring her reproachfully in the face : 
 
 " You speak of the trials of an irritable tem 
 per. My dear Meta, pray reflect that Florence 
 may have many temptations to crossness that 
 you can never understand. Have you not said
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 that you do not remember being ill in your life ? 
 Then, are you a just judge of Florence, whose 
 daily life is one of weary, nervous depression " 
 
 Meta read no further. Had she really been 
 so selfish and unkind as to write to Winny of 
 Florry's faults ? It was even so, yet she had 
 not been struck with this view of the question 
 when the hasty letter, to which this was an an 
 swer, was penned. Now she abruptly closed 
 her desk, and came over to Florry's couch, lay 
 ing her hand with sudden tenderness on the 
 blue-veined forehead, and gazing with a pang of 
 self-reproach in the beautiful face, so unearthly 
 in its frail loveliness. There was a crimson spot 
 on each of the fair cheeks, and an unnatural 
 light in the bright eyes. 
 
 " Poor Florry, does your head ache very 
 badly ? " asked Meta, sympathizingly. 
 
 " Oh, awfully," sighed Florence, wearily ; " and 
 I declare, between Felicie's stupidity and your 
 old scratching pen, I am nearly distracted. How 
 will I ever get my hair dressed in time to 
 night ?" 
 
 " Suppose you stay up-stairs ? I don't like it 
 very much, but I will receive the people, if you 
 say so." 
 
 " Who ever heard of such foolishness ? " ex 
 claimed Florry, pettishly. " I believe you were
 
 252 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 cut out for an old maid. Do you think mamma 
 would let you receive, when you haven't ' come 
 out ' yet ? When you have gone through a 
 course of professors and private lessons, it will 
 be quite time enough to make your dtbut. Pray 
 don't talk as if you were brought up in the back 
 woods ! " 
 
 " I thought mamma wished me to appear in 
 the drawing-room to-night ? Can I really stay 
 here, if I wish it ? " 
 
 " What a goose ! Do, Meta, act as if you had 
 one grain of sense ! Of course, you can go down 
 must go down ! People will think very 
 strange if mamma keeps you away from our 
 own parties, but you can't go anywhere else. 
 There ! Don't talk any more about it, please. 
 Hand me that jewel-box in my top drawer, like 
 a good child. I believe it would make me feel 
 better to look it over, and see if that Felicie has 
 put the powder on my pearl set. Don't tumble 
 my things, though. Here ! get the key out of 
 my work-box. Cant you find it ? Oh, dear ! I 
 wish people had eyes that knew how to see. 
 Why, it's right before your face ! Well ! I'm 
 thankful you managed to find it ! " 
 
 Meta took the key, which was not in the box, 
 but under a pile of books on the table, and 
 opened the sacred " top drawer." It was in per-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2$$ 
 
 feet order, and the richly inlaid jewel-box a 
 gem of itself was in full view. Relieved to 
 find it so easily, she relocked the drawer, and 
 went over to the lounge with the rich casket. 
 Florry took the tiniest of keys off her watch- 
 chain, and opened the treasure, tossing over 
 the elegant and fragile contents with such reck 
 less fingers that Meta shuddered for their fate. 
 The pearls being chalked to her satisfaction, 
 and a very elegant diamond necklace found in 
 its proper place, Florry's good humor returned, 
 and she graciously exhibited the treasures she 
 had purchased abroad to the unsophisticated 
 eyes of her sister. 
 
 " Why don't you wear the diamonds to 
 night ? " asked Meta, turning the beautiful jew- 
 .els over on her palm, admiringly. "They are 
 so lovely, Florry." 
 
 " Of course, they are lovely ! Mamma had 
 them reset for me in Paris ; but do you think I 
 have no better taste than to wear diamonds at 
 my age, in full dress ? Mamma gave these to 
 me. They were her mother's, you know ; but, of 
 course, she wears them herself always, and I 
 only look at them now. There ! I believe you'd 
 better put them away, while I try to take a nap. 
 Don't shake the powder off my pearls, whatever 
 you do ! Will you ring for Felicie to come and
 
 254 AT ETA WALLACE. 
 
 fan me ? She went out as soon as she saw I 
 wasn't thinking of her. What a plague they all 
 are, to be sure ! " 
 
 Later in the evening, when Mr. Wallace's 
 handsome apartments were filled with the wealth 
 and fashion of the city, and the enlivening mu 
 sic was pealing out an invitation to the dance, 
 Florence, with no trace of the afternoon's peev 
 ishness, stood gracefully receiving her own and 
 her mother's guests. More than one stopped 
 to look in the exquisitely beautiful face, so brill 
 iantly fair and bewitching, with gracious smiles 
 chasing over the rosy lips, and a most unnatural 
 light in the large dark eyes ; but few paused to 
 think how soon these frail flowers wither and 
 die. The fleecy folds of her lace dress, and the 
 perfect taste with which everything she wore 
 fitted her style and figure, kept the idle world 
 from suspecting the exceeding delicacy of her 
 frame. The slight cough was scarcely noted. 
 Mrs. Wallace had never been prouder of her 
 lovely daughter, as the unqualified admiration 
 accorded her was heard on all sides ; even Meta, 
 who gladly kept out of the confusion around 
 Florry, could do little besides admire the per 
 fect face and even more perfect manners of her 
 sister. Every one acknowledged the dtbut a 
 great success, and Florence's title to the adula 
 tion of her little world indisputable.
 
 FLORENCE'S PARTY. Page 254.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 HE winter season had opened brilliantly. 
 Mrs. Wallace and Florence were kept 
 in a perpetual whirl, with no greater 
 control of their convenience or time than the 
 veriest slave ; yet this was pleasure. The ex 
 citement of such a life was too much for the del 
 icate constitution of the poor little belle, while 
 her home-life consisted of peevish, restless days 
 spent upon the lounge reading unhealthy books ; 
 and she grew frailer and more painfully fair as 
 time wore on. But no one thought of this. 
 Mrs. Wallace, wrapped up in her worldly exist 
 ence, scarcely ever seeing her children during 
 the "season," except when Florry met her at 
 dinner or luncheon, or when there were engage 
 ments for the daylight, thought very little of 
 why such feverish hands and hectic cheeks had 
 
 (255)
 
 256 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 become a part of her beautiful belle. The world 
 admired and praised the beauty ; what else could 
 she ask ? And so it was that those little feet were 
 always incased in thin shoes or slippers, and the 
 alabaster shoulders nightly exposed to chance 
 draughts. Very often the poorly-clad feet stood 
 in the snow, waiting for the carriage on an opera 
 night, or the poor lungs, crowded out of their 
 proper place by the laws of dress, panted and 
 sighed for a breath of pure air, while Florry 
 laughed and chatted in some heated room, where 
 disease, and languor, and future misery were 
 breathed in so fatally ; and without a thought. 
 Meta saw none of all this. Her evenings were 
 devoted to letters and study often to what 
 she called a "good old practice" when the 
 family were engaged at balls and parties. She 
 saw very little more of her mother and sister 
 than if they had been living in separate houses ; 
 and of her father still less. Mr. Wallace of late 
 years was seized with a mania for speculating, 
 and it had not improved his domestic qualities. 
 Meta was shocked to find him morose and fret 
 ful, so reserved that it seemed impossible to pen 
 etrate to his inner self, and seemingly absorbed 
 in some engrossing thought that interfered with 
 every relation of life. Things went on in the 
 thoughtless household pretty much as they had
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 ever done. There was the same reckless expend 
 iture and useless luxury ; as if care was only a 
 name, and human misery a mere theory, used 
 by eloquent pulpit orators to frighten money out 
 of the congregational pocket. 
 
 Meta, living with her dear absent friends in 
 thought and through the medium of writing, 
 rejoiced in her quiet life. The temptations she 
 had dreaded were yet distant, and, on the whole, 
 it was not so hard to be good when there was 
 no one to interfere with her tastes. She spent 
 her mornings with the various teachers em 
 ployed for her, and cultivated her voice, with no 
 further oversight on the mother's part than the 
 first anxiety that Meta's professors should be 
 strictly fashionable. Mrs. Wallace never in 
 quired as to her progress, and was utterly uncon 
 scious that her daughter possessed an accom 
 plishment. She was thankful that her manners, 
 though they "needed a little polishing, to be 
 sure," were not countrified, and her face really 
 pretty, when not seen near Florry's ; that was 
 all. Meta sang and studied, and was quite 
 happy, left to herself; and so time fled, un 
 noted. 
 
 One night, as Meta sat over her cosy fire, 
 reading a very pleasant book, she heard her 
 father's step on the stairs. It was an unusual
 
 258 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 hour for Mr. Wallace to come home, for it was 
 a club night ; but Meta thought 'nothing of it, 
 and, after listening until she heard her mother's 
 door open and close, went back to her delightful 
 reading. The sound of regular footsteps in the 
 adjoining chamber came across her ears once 
 in a while; but after about an hour they ceased, 
 and there was no sound in the house until past 
 midnight, when the familiar chatting and laugh 
 ing that announced the return of the revelers 
 disturbed Meta over the last pages of the book 
 she had lost her rest to finish. 
 
 When Florence appeared in the doorway a 
 vision of loveliness Meta sprang up to greet 
 her, and was assisting the sleepy F&icie in un 
 robing the tired beauty, when a sudden and ap 
 palling scream came from Mrs. Wallace's room. 
 Rushing past her startled sister, with dressing- 
 gown and hair flying, Meta ran quickly to her 
 mother's door, the dreadful screams still pierc 
 ing her brain. Throwing the door open hur 
 riedly, she saw her mother, resplendent in jewels 
 and velvet, crouching on the rug before the 
 great easy-chair that was always placed at Mr. 
 Wallace's reading-table, near the fire, and where 
 he now sat with head resting on his hand. The 
 drop-light was turned up high, and an open book 
 lay on the reading-table ; but the hand that lay
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 259 
 
 so listlessly on the leaves was cold and limp, 
 and the wide-open eyes stared blindly. This 
 was a horrible explanation of those fearful 
 screams, but Meta divined it all at a glance. 
 Mr. Wallace was dead. 
 
 We pass over the harrowing scenes of that 
 night, never to be forgotten by any of his chil 
 dren. Florence, carried away by terror and 
 alarm, fainted at the first awful realization of 
 their loss. Meta was roused from her own 
 despairing efforts to soothe and comfort her 
 mother, by the fall of the poor, frail body in the 
 doorway, as Florence sank into a deathlike un 
 consciousness that seemed to give little hope of 
 awaking. 
 
 In looking back upon this first view of sudden 
 death, Meta could never remember how they 
 had lived through the hours that followed ; yet 
 the night passed, and the morning dawned. 
 
 The physician who had watched and tended 
 the family for years, with others skilled in their 
 art, came sympathizingly to proffer aid ; but 
 there was no healing to be found. Mr. Wallace 
 had expired in a stroke of paralysis, and no man 
 dared to offer comfort or hope to the bereaved. 
 
 Friends poured in with the morrow, to console 
 and sympathize with the widow and her children ; 
 but so artificial had been the life of the house-
 
 26O MET A WALLACE. 
 
 hold that there were not a few whose curiosity 
 to see how they bare the blow, or a morbid fancy 
 to witness the proof that " in the midst of life 
 we are in death," was the moving cause in the 
 visit. 
 
 Then came the grand funeral of the million 
 aire, with its nodding plumes and long line of 
 carriages ; the mournful anthem, and the sorrow 
 ful procession along the aisle of the handsome 
 church ; and the solemn utterance of those 
 words of mighty import, " ashes to ashes, dust 
 to dust." Then the crowd went on its way, and 
 the world made its comments, and Edward Wal 
 lace's dream of life and place among men was 
 over.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 N examination into Mr. Wallace's affairs 
 by the executors created another nine 
 days' wonder, and disclosed very start 
 ling facts. Of the wealth in which these chil 
 dren of fortune so blindly trusted, a bare living 
 remained, and the widow sat shorn of her 
 strength, for she had trusted in the multitude of 
 her riches. Edward, who had been on an expen 
 sive Southern and Western tour for some weeks, 
 was summoned hastily by one of the tender 
 hearted executors, in order that the shock to 
 Mrs. Wallace might be softened as much as 
 possible ; but the old gentleman went away in^ 
 dignant and angry at the expressions of disgust 
 and blame with which the only son discussed so 
 bitterly his father's failure. How the immense 
 fortune had been wasted, none ever knew ; the 
 
 (261)
 
 262 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 secret of his losses went down to the grave with 
 the unfortunate man, who had died in the midst 
 of his luxuries, alone. 
 
 We will not attempt to portray Mrs. Wallace's 
 consternation when the fact was revealed to her 
 that she had lost all that made up her existence. 
 It was her first realization of the truth that 
 man's life " fleeth as a shadow, and continuelh 
 not ; " and the dire, overwhelming fate crushed 
 her proud spirit to the earth. 
 
 To Florry, the idea of poverty was one of sim 
 ple degradation. Small economies, and the ab 
 sence of those luxuries which were so necessary 
 to her being, never occurred to her ; she could 
 grasp no medium between wealth and absolute 
 destitution. No idea of gratitude that enough 
 for sustenance had been spared them came into 
 her heart. She had heard there were people 
 who managed to live decently on a few hun 
 dreds, but she did not believe it. She had seen 
 wretched humanity in rags and tatters too often 
 to question its existence, but she had been taught 
 to regard these people as impostors, and so 
 had grown to look upon hunger and nakedness 
 as a sort of abstract imposition itself ; perhaps 
 even greater than the miserable creatures who 
 fished out their meals from the gutters of those 
 dreadful streets she feared to enter.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 263 
 
 When Meta heard the truth, that " plate, car 
 riage, horses, houses, everything must be sold, 
 . and the family come down from fifty thousand a 
 year to just eight hundred," she was perhaps as 
 much startled as the rest, but not overcome. 
 She could not but think of the repining spirit 
 she had indulged at the temptation now forever 
 removed, and was self-rebuked and humbled at 
 what He who knew her best had chosen for 
 her. Sometimes the fear would come that she 
 would find duty much harder with so much 
 bitterness and murmuring around her than 
 with the wealth she had considered such a bur 
 den ; but she did not suffer the thought to gain 
 possession of her mind, and battled bravely 
 with the natural regret at giving up the de 
 lightful home she had learned to appreciate. 
 It was hard to " fight the good fight " when the 
 gay banners were trailed in dust, and the proud 
 forces so often routed, bleeding and almost ready 
 to avoid the conflict ; but there was a strength 
 on which she relied that did not desert her here. 
 Even when disheartened by foes without and 
 fears within, she trusted to that mighty hand 
 and unsearchable wisdom that giveth not always 
 the battle to the strong ; and so, through prayer 
 ful faith, she found grace to help in time of need, 
 and strength to subdue the unruly mutiny of 
 her heart.
 
 264 META WALLACE, OK 
 
 Florry found it very hard to submit. 
 
 " Mamma ! " she cried, passionately, in the 
 first family council after the startling news, 
 " mamma ! I shall not give up my harp, nor my 
 jewels, nor my silks ! I never can." 
 
 " Oh, no, of course not ! " sneered Edward ; 
 " but I must give up my cigars, my club, iny 
 opera-box! Is that your tune, Miss Selfish 
 ness ? " 
 
 "I am sure, children," cried Mrs. Wallace, 
 fretfully, " / have to sacrifice most of all ! You 
 are young, and can outlive this disgrace ; but 
 fancy what /shall suffer to endure the horrors 
 of one of those dismal brick houses down town." 
 
 "I'd rather die!" exclaimed Florry, crying; 
 " yes, I would, Meta, so you needn't look so 
 shocked ! I would just as soon be dead, as live 
 as far down as Bond street, even ; and mamma 
 says Waverley place, or Clinton either, would 
 be out of the question. Don't look so solemn ! 
 I declare you'd vex the patience of a saint ! " 
 
 The excitement of contradiction had brought 
 a glow to her face, making her loveliness so un 
 earthly that Edward paused in his moody walk 
 through the room to admire it. 
 
 " If she'd just marry a million, now," he 
 thought, suddenly, "some of this ugly business 
 might be managed."
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 26$ 
 
 
 
 Florry had now begun to cough, and a fearful 
 paroxysm, such as no one but Meta had ever 
 seen before, racked the frail frame, making the 
 thick beads stand out on her forehead. Mrs. 
 Wallace arose in alarm, and held a glass of 
 water to the quivering lips. 
 
 " Why can't you let her alone ? " she asked of 
 Meta, querulously. " She hasn't coughed like 
 that for an age, and it's nothing but your absurd 
 contradictions." 
 
 Meta did not answer, but her heart was full. 
 
 " O mother, mother," was her secret thought ; 
 "has it come to this, and you are blind still? 
 Poor Florry ! " 
 
 Very tenderly she bathed Florry's brow when 
 the paroxysm had passed off. She was thinking 
 of a sunny head lying low " under the daisies," 
 in the village church-yard so far away. 
 
 " Thank you," said Florence, graciously, as 
 she revived and straightened her hair ; " only I 
 would not be such a cry-baby, Meta. Mamma! 
 she is actually in tears ! " 
 
 " It's not surprising, considering our trials," 
 said Mrs. Wallace, going back to her woes. 
 " And now, Edward, quit that everlasting whist 
 ling, and be rational enough to help me make 
 out this inventory of my private possessions; 
 will you ? "
 
 266 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 And so, through innumerable disputes and re 
 criminations, the sorrow was met, and the down 
 fall endured in bitter complainings. 
 
 In a few weeks after Mr. Wallace's death, his 
 family were comfortably installed in their new 
 residence ; a plain brick tenement on Bond 
 street, where there were no servants to answer 
 Mrs. Wallace's silver bejl, and no Felicie to 
 dress Florence's beautiful hair. But Meta's deft 
 fingers were so skillful in frizzing and braiding, 
 that after a little practice she was declared al 
 most equal to the renowned " Sistine," who had 
 been Florry's authority on such matters in Paris. 
 Mrs. Walker, though she had begged to be al 
 lowed to share the family misfortunes, was too 
 expensive a luxury as housekeeper of so small 
 an establishment; and, moreover, Mrs. Wallace 
 shrunk from every one who could recall those 
 " better days " that were now the source of her 
 vain repinings. 
 
 The world had said all it had to say, and 
 shrugged its shoulders resignedly over the 
 downfall of the Wallace pride, and now the long- 
 idolized leaders of society had sunk out of its 
 great whirl, and, before many months had passed, 
 were spoken of as indifferently, by many who 
 had been glad to own the prestige of intimacy,
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 267 
 
 as though they had never existed in the sunlight 
 of the " upper ten." Perhaps their own sensi 
 tiveness may have helped to bring about this 
 state of things, for there were many sincere 
 offers of sympathy and acts of true friendliness 
 at first. But even the best disposed hesitated 
 to incur the severe, almost rude repulse that 
 awaited any advances which savored of pity, and 
 were therefore an offense to the nostrils of pride. 
 Mrs. Wallace resented as impertinence what was 
 meant in all kindliness of heart ; and it was no 
 wonder that she had cause to mourn, in bitter 
 ness of soul, the instability and self-interest that 
 formed the basis of summer friendships. 
 
 With Meta's friends it was very different. In 
 the first great agony of spirit, they had cheered 
 and soothed with the tenderest love, pouring 
 balm in upon the bruised heart and quivering 
 nerves, and leading the rebellious will to the 
 only true source of comfort reliance upon 
 God, whose chastening is all inflicted in love. 
 
 " ' Though he slay me, yet will I trust in 
 him,' " wrote Miss Clifton, in one of her earnest 
 Christian letters. " My poor, dear child, do not 
 give up to rebellious despair because the trial of 
 your faith is sent in so different a form from 
 what you had imagined. God's face is not turned 
 away, if you will but think of it ; and though it
 
 268 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 sometimes seems hard that these grievous bur 
 dens are imposed, we must have faith enough to 
 believe that all things work together for good, 
 and that what is strange and blurred to our 
 darkened vision here, shall surely be revealed 
 face to face. Do we ever doubt that God is 
 watching over to defend us in our mortal nights, 
 when we lie down to sleep trustfully, with no 
 fear of what may come to us in the silence and 
 unconsciousness of slumber ? Then why should 
 he not be with us still, though we cannot see 
 him, in that dark night of spiritual sorrow when 
 the awfulness of a great bereavement is upon us, 
 and the soul faints for fear ? Ah, Meta ! surely 
 he is there, else were our faith indeed a vain 
 thing ! Do not forget that in the helplessness 
 of such sorrows we have gone back to the weak 
 ness of childhood, when the brain is striving to 
 grasp life's mysteries, and we are forced to yield 
 to the guidance of the mother's knowledge, 
 though we cannot understand why such things 
 be. Just so must we follow when he bids us 
 walk with him through the dim paths of his mys 
 terious dispensations, clinging to that hand as 
 the wondering child to its mother's wisdom, and 
 going forth into the maze, believing that what 
 we know not now, we shall know hereafter." 
 And so was Meta stayed and comforted with
 
 , THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 269 
 
 the tender friendship that brought such goodly 
 fruit in her time of need. The pleasure once 
 found in her long letters to Winny was now the 
 chief solace when more than ordinary depression 
 weighed upon her heart. She was finding it 
 very hard to meet the daily trials, petty and 
 trivial as they seemed when summed up ; the 
 annoyances of making a very little seem a great 
 deal to the fastidious mother and sister, who 
 gave up the whole responsibility of the house 
 hold to her ; trying, out of their limited means, 
 to furnish Florry with delicacies and Edward 
 with the ready cash he so selfishly and thought 
 lessly demanded ; and keeping up a show of gen 
 tility about the small establishment, with no aid 
 but her own inventions and energy. Edward 
 from the first had refused to have anything to 
 do with the finances, and it came about very 
 naturally that Meta's shoulders were fitted to 
 the burden, and must bear it. The small in 
 come was regularly paid by their kind business 
 friend, who pitied the widow's helplessness, 
 though he scowled at Edward's indolent scorn 
 at the idea of assuming the direction of affairs, 
 nd reprimanded him very shortly for a " lazy, 
 selfish fellow." 
 
 All of this had little effect, as a matter of 
 course ; and the kind-hearted old gentleman
 
 2/O META WALLACE. 
 
 saw that he must either assume charge of the 
 'finances, or very soon " Wallace's family would 
 be on the parish, sir ! " as he indignantly said 
 to one of his business friends. Mr. Wallace's 
 old associates had offered Edward a very excel 
 lent situation as soon as the extent of their 
 losses was known ; but, after an instant's glance 
 of intense scorn in the face of the friend who had 
 been bold enough to make the proposal, Edward 
 indignantly rejected it. 
 
 " Do you think my father's son would sta-nd 
 behind a counter in a dry goods store ? " he 
 asked, angrily. " No, sir! ,If you had given me a 
 situation in a bank or on 'change, or a railroad 
 presidency, or something respectable and honor 
 able, which would not be a stain on the name; 
 but a clerkship bah ! " 
 
 The amazed merchant, who fancied he was 
 doing something very friendly to meddle in the 
 affairs of such a worthless fellow at all, did not 
 conceal his anger at the scornful, injured tone; 
 and, for once in his life, Edward Wallace was 
 shown his character in its true light. He was 
 not benefited by the lecture, however, and the 
 language of his reply was so insolent and insult 
 ing to gray hairs, that the substantial interest 
 and kindly feeling of his father's old friend was 
 forever estranged from the family.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 LADY in the parlor, mum, as wishes 
 to see yez," announced the raw Irish 
 girl, the Wallaces' maid-of-all-work, in 
 her rich brogue. 
 
 Meta looked up from the book she was read 
 ing aloud to Florry, and repeated, absently, " A 
 lady?" 
 
 " Yes, mum ; sure, an' she'd want to come in 
 here, wither or no " 
 
 " For pity's sake, go and see who it is, Meta," 
 interrupted Florence, impatiently. "That girl 
 will be the death of me, I know she will ! If 
 somebody can't teach her the English language, 
 I'll go to the door myself ; the odious creature 
 makes me nervous. Suppose Nina Appleton 
 happened to call ! " 
 
 Meta knew that this was scarcely a proba- 
 
 (271)
 
 272 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 bility ; but, as it always furnished Florry with an 
 excuse to make an exertion, she never denied 
 the fact that Nina might come, and Florry 
 lived on in hope. Poor beauty ! this was one of 
 her bad days. The racking cough and feverish 
 flush were increased by every little cross, and no 
 one ventured to oppose any of her countless 
 whims. Meta attempted no defense of poor 
 Catherine's undeniable brogue, but, laying aside 
 her book, went out in the narrow entry to see 
 who the rare visitor might be, leaving the per 
 plexed Irish girl to go through a rigid lecture 
 on the proper pronunciation of words. Florry 
 was growing really interested in her curious 
 task, when she heard a sudden uproar at the 
 door. 
 
 " Bless the sweet face of ye ! " cried a hearty 
 voice, in almost as rich a brogue as Catherine's. 
 " Kiss your old Bridget, my blessed lamb ! Sure, 
 did ye think I was forgettin' you in your 
 trouble, when my own heart has been bleedin' 
 and longin' for ye so long ? And to think that 
 stupid creature of a girl wouldn't let me rush to 
 ye, the minute I found the house ! " 
 
 " Shut the door," cried Florry, hurriedly, to 
 the girl, " and go away ! I believe we will have 
 an Irish regiment here before the day is out. 
 The idea of Meta hugging and kissing that great
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2/3 
 
 fat Bridget ! Oh, me ! now she'll go crazy over 
 her again, and I won't have a soul to read to 
 me ! Mamma drawls awfully ; Meta is the only 
 person that can read with a particle of tune in 
 her voice." 
 
 Meanwhile, Meta was hugging Bridget raptur 
 ously, listening through her tears to the enthu 
 siastic delight of her old nurse, her praise of the 
 sweet, girlish face, and the extravagant assertion 
 that " never was Florry a whit more beautiful 
 than her own baby was now." The mention 
 of Florry reminded her that she had been left 
 unceremoniously, and was possibly cross; so, 
 half leading^ half dragging Bridget along, she 
 opened the dining-room door, where they had 
 been sitting, and led the honest, faithful creat 
 ure, in the most matter-of-fact way, to Florry's 
 lounge. 
 
 "Sure, an' is it" sick ye are?" exclaimed 
 Bridget, dusting a chair in her usual way, before 
 seating herself. 
 
 " How do you do, Bridget?" said Florence, 
 holding out a languid hand. " Yes, I'm sick, but 
 don't ask me how I feel, for I hate it." 
 
 " Dear Florry's cough troubles her," said 
 Meta, gently, giving Bridget a warning look. 
 
 " Sure, it's smoke mullen ye must," the woman 
 said, more for an excuse to hide her surprise at 
 18
 
 274 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 the wreck before her than to really venture on 
 advising. 
 
 " Smoke mullen ! " cried Florry, with a gest 
 ure of disgust ; " I think I see myself smoking 
 anything ! " 
 
 " Me mother tried it," said Bridget, not re 
 senting the tone as she once would have done. 
 Though Florence had never been a favorite, she 
 was truly shocked and grieved to see her in such 
 an evident decline, and a feeling of tenderness 
 that she had never expected to display for her 
 old enemy in the nursery filled her eyes with 
 tears. 
 
 But though Florry resented as an insult the 
 bare mention of such a remedy for her cough, 
 and turned her back on Bridget, pretending to 
 read, she was nevertheless quite interested in 
 the conversation that ensued; for the old nurse 
 had much to relate. 
 
 " I've had me ups and me downs," she said, 
 resignedly ; " but the Lord has blessed me with 
 strength and health. These arms has never 
 failed me yet, and I've never to say gone without 
 bread and a place to lay my head at night. 
 But I've had me ups and me downs ! " 
 
 Florry here glanced at Meta with a queer ex 
 pression, as if she felt inclined to repeat for 
 Bridget's benefit the lecture recently given to
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 the house-girl ; and Meta, fearing she might be 
 tempted to do it, hurriedly changed the subject 
 by asking how it was that Bridget had never 
 found them out until now. 
 
 " Oh, I heard when ye came back from 
 school," she replied, " but I was just going for a 
 sitiwation in the South as was offered me, and I 
 was forced off, like. I didn't stay there very 
 long ; the climate didn't agree with me, and the 
 ways was different. Well ! when I set foot in 
 New York again, and went to the old place to 
 see ye, sure, the people was strangers, and no 
 one could tell me aught of ye." 
 
 " What ! " cried Florry, sharply ; " have they 
 forgotten, so soon, who and what the Wallaces 
 are?" 
 
 " Ay ! it's the way of the world, honey," said 
 Bridget, soothingly, as she hastily skipped that 
 part of her story, and said, contentedly, " Well ! 
 I found ye, though, for all, and the Lord be 
 praised for it. But the afternoon's waning, sure, 
 and I must be off with me ; " rising reluctantly, 
 and putting her hand in a 'capacious pocket, 
 doubtfully. 
 
 " My baby," she cried to Meta, blushing, as 
 she drew out a large paper parcel from the said 
 pocket " my baby, you had a sweet tooth, I re 
 member me ! Here's a morsel of candy car 
 amels "
 
 276 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Caramels ! " repeated Florry, eagerly. " Oh, 
 dear, I am so glad ! Do give me one, Meta ! " 
 
 Bridget threw the parcel on the lounge, in a 
 relieved way, avoiding Meta's eyes, that were 
 looking thankfully in her face, and helped Florry 
 to a selection of the candy. Then, adding two 
 oranges to the gift, she drew her shawl about 
 her, and bade Florry good-bye. 
 
 "Good-bye, Bridget," said the invalid, gra 
 ciously ; " it was real good of you to bring me 
 some oranges. I've been wanting some ever so 
 long, and didn't know exactly what I was crav- 
 ing." 
 
 Bridget did not venture to say that her last 
 shilling had been expended entirely for the ben 
 efit of " her baby ; " she had not the heart to 
 take away the evident satisfaction of the sick 
 girl, who was so eagerly turning over the candy 
 and smelling the fragrant fruit. 
 
 "You'll not be mad with old Bridget ?" whis 
 pered the nurse to Meta, as they stood at the 
 door. 
 
 " Angry, indeed ! " sobbed the poor child, lay 
 ing her weary head on the old resting-place. " O 
 Bridget, God bless your tenderness and thought 
 ful love! Oh, I have been so unhappy so 
 miserable ! " 
 
 " I see, I see, my darlint, but God will help ye
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 bear it. Sure, I know it's hard, but don't give 
 up ! And that poor one beyond there," nod 
 ding in Florry's direction, " she'll not be long 
 among ye. Bear with her, Meta, bear with her 
 poor lamb ! And if ye ever need money, and 
 your old Bridget can work her fingers off for 
 ye, ye shall have it ! Hush ! don't cry ! it makes 
 my heart bleed ; " and Bridget said good-bye 
 hurriedly, in the midst of sobs, as Florry's voice, 
 calling Meta plaintively, came wafted out to the 
 door.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 AVE you found anything to do, yet, 
 Edward ? " asked his mother, one day, 
 at their plain dinner, when Meta an 
 nounced the fact that it yet lacked six days be 
 fore the month's allowance would be paid, and 
 there were only two dollars in her purse. Ed 
 ward was standing at the fire, coolly lighting a 
 cigar, while the rest sat around the small table. 
 " Have you really tried to get employment ? " 
 continued Mrs. Wallace. "Do come and sit at 
 the table like a gentleman, and quit smoking 
 while we are at dinner." 
 
 " Certainly, madam," said Edward, throwing 
 the coal back in the fire; "I shall always en 
 deavor to be a gentleman, though I confess these 
 surroundings make it a difficult position. No, 
 (278}
 
 THE -SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 279 
 
 thank you ! no dinner. I can't eat beefsteak 
 and rice ; never could." 
 
 " Why, Edward ! " cried Meta, reproachfully. 
 
 " Yes, I know what you want to say, sis ! 
 ' Better a dinner of herbs, ' etc. ; I'm familiar 
 with the quotation, thank you. But give me the 
 ' stalled ox,' if you please ! I never had primitive 
 tastes." 
 
 "No one wants you to eat," said his mother, 
 severely; "but I would thank you to answer 
 my question, Edward. Have you tried to find 
 work ? " 
 
 " What shall I do, mamma ? ' I cannot dig; to 
 beg I am ashamed.' You needn't open your 
 eyes, Meta ! I know that comes out of the 
 Bible ! " And he laughed heartily at this witty 
 speech. Presently he went on, for no one cared 
 to comment upon his rudeness : 
 
 " By the .way, ma m&re, old Wilson did offer 
 me a place, but such a place ! How would you 
 like to see me behind the cloak counter at Ar 
 nold's?" 
 
 " Arnold's ! " repeated Mrs. Wallace, a flush 
 mounting to her face quickly. 
 
 " I thought you wouldn't approve of dry 
 goods, exactly," said Edward, composedly tak 
 ing up his hat ; " none of us like to disgrace 
 our name "
 
 28O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " It's no disgrace to work for your mother," 
 cried Meta, impulsively. 
 
 "Ah, indeed, little miss! So, that's the way 
 you talk to your elders ? Of course, it's just 
 like a girl's reasoning and selfishness. / am to 
 be sacrificed on a counter, that you and Florry 
 may be dressed in furbelows and eat candy." 
 
 Meta made no reply, though her face was 
 flushed, and she felt herself giving way to an 
 old-time fit of temper. With a great effort she 
 repressed the sharp words that were trembling 
 on her lips, and set to work to preach down her 
 heart. 
 
 " Mamma," she said, mildly, " I have tried 
 very hard not to annoy you with these cares, 
 but I find it impossible to keep within our allow 
 ance. Poor Florry must have her cordials, and 
 Edward will smoke." 
 
 " If Mr. Clay would lend us " began Mrs. 
 Wallace, doubtfully. 
 
 " Oh, no ! Don't let us come to that, yet, 
 mamma." 
 
 Edward laughed rudely, as she paused, blush 
 ing. 
 
 " So, that's your game, is it ? Going on the 
 grand independent line ? I'd like to know how 
 you propose to manage it! Always thought 
 there was a screw loose in your composition,
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 28 1 
 
 somewhere, but this is rich, to be surel What 
 do you expect to eat until next month's pay 
 day?" 
 
 " Just what you do ! " retorted Meta, impa 
 tiently. 
 
 " Ah, indeed, young one ! I have an account 
 at Delmonico's, it's true ; but you don't propose 
 joining my dinners, do you ? " 
 
 The tears came into his sister's eyes as he 
 rudely tapped her chin with his cigar ; but s-he 
 did not allow her angry spirit to gain ascend 
 ency. If she could not " strengthen the breth 
 ren," she would at least do nothing to retard 
 their progress, and schooled herself to Edward's 
 taunting, provoking manners by never encourag 
 ing such conversations. The careless fellow, 
 seeing there was nothing to be gained, took up 
 his hat and thrust a few cigars in his pocket. 
 When he had reached the door, he drew a letter 
 from his side pocket, saying, carelessly, as he 
 threw it to Meta : 
 
 " There ! I've had that in my pocket a day 
 or two, I believe ! It's yours, Miss Sobersides ! 
 .1 hope you'll find your week's rations inside." 
 And, whistling a light opera air, he walked off, 
 leaving a long line of tobacco smoke behind 
 him. 
 
 Meta, glancing eagerly at her letter, saw that
 
 282 ME FA WALLACE, OR 
 
 the handwriting was Winny's, and laid it aside 
 for future enjoyment, thinking that, now Ed 
 ward had taken himself off, she had best pursue 
 the serious subject in hand. Accordingly she 
 began earnestly to endeavor to convince her 
 mother that something must be done, some new 
 plan devised for regulating the household expend 
 iture and curtailing the outlay. But Mrs. Wal 
 lace, irritated at Edward's speech and the neces 
 sity of facing such disagreeable facts, would not 
 discuss the matter at all, and bade Meta, peev 
 ishly, to read her letter and be done with it. 
 
 Knowing how useless it would be to attempt 
 remonstrance, the perplexed young housekeeper 
 drew a long breath and broke the seal, glancing 
 over the closely-written pages with an inward 
 thankfulness that there was one friend whose 
 ear was always open to her troubles, and whose 
 counsels brought help and comfort when she 
 was most tried. As she read on, one paragraph 
 brought such a glad surprise that she made a 
 loud exclamation of delight. 
 
 " What does she say ? " asked Mrs. Wallace, 
 languidly. " I believe you really like that wo 
 man better than you do your own people, 
 Meta." 
 
 " O mamma ! " cried Meta, her enthusiasm 
 somewhat clouded by this speech. " Indeed, I
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 283 
 
 could not help being very glad to hear that our 
 dear old Monsieur Jean is coming to New York 
 to live. Think how joyful it will be ! " 
 
 " I can't see anything joyful about it. Remem 
 ber, Meta, that your circumstances have materi 
 ally changed since you left Glencove. I am sur 
 prised that your pride does not rebel against 
 seeing an old friend under this roof ! " 
 
 " Monsieur Jean never would think of that," 
 said Meta, smiling at the idea of the old French 
 man's friendship depending upon her surround 
 ings ; but she did not express her vehement de 
 light again, contenting herself with reading over 
 and .over again the intelligence that gave her so 
 much pleasure. Miss Clifton had written as 
 follows : 
 
 We are all greatly distressed at the certainty of losing our dear 
 professor. He has been often solicited by foreign friends who 
 have established themselves in New York at various times, to 
 leave the retirement of Glencove, and make a future for him 
 self in the city. The inducements offered have had no weight 
 heretofore, but of late madame and himself have found a per 
 petual source of discord, and he is about to leave. Entreaty 
 has had no effect, and Mr. Leslie, sorely disturbed, has no al 
 ternative but to accept his resignation. He was lately offered 
 a very lucrative post in New York, and I have no doubt will 
 make a name for himself ; for his talent amounts almost to a 
 genius for music. What we shall do without him is hard 
 to imaginej but I shall not be selfish enough to repine at his 
 improved fortunes, nor to grieve over a piece of news that 
 I know is such a source of pleasure to you. . . .
 
 284 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 When the frugal dinner was over, and Mrs. 
 Wallace composedly taking her afternoon nap, 
 in forgetfulness of the fact that Meta's purse 
 held just two dollars, our young friend drew her 
 chair to the window, rejoicing that for awhile 
 she might have her precious letter all to herself. 
 But she did not long enjoy the quiet of the little 
 back room. 
 
 " Miss Meta, sure, an' there's no tay at all, at 
 all, in the house, and Miss Florry is just bidding 
 me make her a cup, strong as lye," announced 
 Catherine, opening the door, and showing her 
 perplexed face. 
 
 " No tea ? " said Meta, absently ; " are you 
 quite sure, Catherine?" 
 
 " Faith, an' I am, miss. I took the last this 
 morning for the missus. What's to be done, an' 
 it please you ? " 
 
 " Why, run to the grocery at the corner, of 
 course, and get it as soon as you can. Miss 
 Florry mustn't be kept waiting. How much is 
 it?" 
 
 "Two dollar the pound, for the kind yez 
 drinks." 
 
 Meta came out of her reverie at the announce 
 ment. Two dollars for a single pound of tea ! 
 What would become of her ? Florry dearly loved 
 the beverage, and would drink only the best and
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 285 
 
 strongest, never troubling herself to find out 
 where or how the money was obtained for the 
 luxury which it had now grown to be. If her 
 whim was opposed, the probabilities were 
 strongly in favor of a coughing spell, that al 
 ways ended in excessive weakness. 
 
 With a sigh Meta went up to her little bureau 
 and took out the purse. Selecting one of the 
 four shining half-dollars, she ran down-stairs, 
 and hurriedly put it into Catherine's hand. 
 
 " I hates to trouble you, mum," said the girl, 
 hesitatingly ; " but if yez could give me a shil 
 ling more ? There's not the first morsel o' 
 butter." 
 
 " Never mind," said Meta, wearily ; " we'll do 
 without that now, Catherine." 
 
 She went back to her station at the dining- 
 room window, but the letter from Glencove was 
 
 
 
 a secondary matter now. For the first time in 
 many days, her courage gave way under the dif 
 ficulties she encountered alone and unaided. 
 Edward's taunts and her mother's strange in 
 difference came over her with all their power to 
 wound and perplex, and, bowing her head on the 
 narrow sill, the tears, so bravely kept back, 
 poured forth at last. Florence had grown visi 
 bly weaker and more fragile, her cough increas 
 ing with every change of weather or, indeed, of
 
 286 META IV ALL ACE, OR 
 
 temper. Those who have never kept watch over 
 the sure victims of consumption, seeing the light 
 step grow so languid, and the life gradually but 
 surely fading out of dear, bright eyes, can never 
 imagine the heart-sickness of such vigils. The 
 disease deceives so often with its fatal semblance 
 of health, that it is sometimes hard to believe 
 the fairness and brightness that make up a 
 beauty surpassing the mortal are only the un 
 erring harbingers of a sure decay. 
 
 One of Meta's sorest trials was the utter 
 blindness of her mother to Florry's state ; the 
 absolute, unquestioning security in which each 
 day, that brought her worshiped darling nearer 
 to the destroyer, w'as yawned or fretted away, 
 without a thought of that dark cloud so soon 
 to descend upon her life. After a more than 
 ordinary season of suffering to the invalid, she 
 would perhaps groan over the fate that kept 
 Florry tied down to the dull little house, and 
 wonder why she was singled out to bear the 
 sick girl's fretful, unreasoning demands, when 
 she had spoiled her and petted her from baby 
 hood ; but no idea of danger ever seemed to 
 cross her mind. 
 
 Meta was thinking of all this as she indulged 
 her sorrowful tears ; for Florry's cough, sounding 
 so hollow and wretched through the small house,
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 287 
 
 smote her heart with a foreboding of heavier 
 grief than even these battles with poverty and 
 lack of appreciation had brought. Her shoul 
 ders seemed too weak for the burden she carried, 
 and the future looked very dark; but, as she 
 wept on, a feeling of peace that had not followed 
 her most earnest prayers stole over her bowed 
 heart. " When through the deep waters I call 
 thee to go" surely, she was already testing 
 the promise in the midst of her struggle with 
 the waves ! The trust in God's willingness as 
 well as power to give strength for every trial 
 buoyed her up now ; a consciousness that, be 
 cause she did not need grace for that certain 
 trouble in the future until it was really present, 
 the grace was withheld, and not because God's 
 face was hidden or his strength denied. A 
 streak of light from the setting sun, struggling 
 with the great brick walls around her, made a 
 glory of the narrow window, and streamed into 
 the little room, penetrating to her heart, and im 
 parting warmth and hope where all had been so 
 dismal and sorrowful a moment before. Press 
 ing her face against the window, she looked ear 
 nestly upward to the source of that dying sun- 
 ray that had so brightened the gloomy little back 
 yard and glorified even the brick walls. Lost in 
 thought, her tearful eyes growing brighter as
 
 288 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 her musings became less miserable, she was 
 startled by a hand laid suddenly on her shoulder, 
 as Bridget's cheery voice greeted her. 
 
 " In tears, my darlint ? Sure, what ails my 
 baby now ? " 
 
 Meta smiled as she bade the old nurse wel 
 come and drew her to a chair ; then, taking a 
 little stool at her feet, she laid the tired head on 
 Bridget's knee, and had soon unfolded the ex 
 tent of her troubles her difficulties in defray 
 ing the household expenses, Florry's increased 
 languor and ill-health, her mother's strange ina 
 bility to advise and assist in these extremities, 
 and even the present perplexity of making her 
 three remaining half-dollars do work for so many 
 days. Bridget listened sympathizingly, speak 
 ing an encouraging word when she could, and 
 pressing the confiding hand when there was 
 nothing she could say ; and when the tale was 
 told, she whispered hurriedly, as if afraid to give 
 her favorite time for reflection : 
 
 " I've a matter of fifteen dollars, saved against 
 a rainy day, Meta, as is yours, if you'll only take 
 it. I thought, deary, you see, it was very pre- 
 suming-like for me to never look for sickness to 
 come, and I've saved it by little against the ill 
 times " 
 
 " O Bridget ! do you think I eould do this ? "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 289 
 
 interrupted Meta, kissing the hard, rough hand 
 that clasped her own. " No ! I can't take your 
 money, kind, dear old Bridget, but I thank you 
 a thousand, thousand times." And, greatly 
 overcome at Bridget's sympathizing generosity, 
 Meta sobbed from very thankfulness of heart. 
 
 Bridget urged and begged in vain, assuring 
 her that the fifteen dollars was something quite 
 out of her own reach, as she had laid it aside in 
 a friend's hands, with the resolution not to spend 
 a cent of it on herself except for that misty, far- 
 off rainy day. Though appreciating the motive, 
 and much moved at the delicacy with which the 
 entreaties were made, Meta very courageously 
 refused, and Bridget went away with a sad 
 heart. 
 
 The next day, as Meta stood absently turning 
 over Mr. -Ascher's ring on her finger, revolving 
 the question whether their present necessities 
 released her from her promise always to wear it, 
 and half ashamed of herself for allowing the 
 thought, she was disturbed by a summons from 
 her mother, who had something to show her 
 down-stairs. Mrs. Wallace was standing at the 
 din ing-table, looking over a large parcel that had 
 been received from a well-known grocery firm, 
 and very much perplexed to know how it had 
 been purchased. 
 
 '9
 
 2QO MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 "Did you ever hear of such a thing, Meta? 
 tea and coffee, loaf sugar, cheese, crackers, 
 even sardines and pickles. Who on earth sent 
 it?" 
 
 At the first glance, Meta was quite sure that 
 she knew the donor, and her eyes filled with 
 tears at the conviction that poor Bridget's fif 
 teen dollars had really found their way to the 
 house. To have told Mrs. Wallace this would 
 have insured the rejection of every article, and 
 the certain wounding of the kind woman's feel 
 ings, who had so generously found a way to 
 help her darling without a possibility of refusal ; 
 so Meta was forced to keep her convictions to 
 herself, and Mrs. Wallace, seeing Florry's delight 
 at some of the delicacies, persuaded herself that 
 the man had owed Mr. Wallace some money, 
 and was ashamed to pay it back in any other 
 way. Meta, when she heard this solution of the 
 mystery, at once declared that she suspected the 
 source from whence it came, but begged so ear 
 nestly not to be asked the secret that her mother 
 did not press the question, and soon other cares 
 absorbed the minor perplexity. 
 
 But Meta did not forget. Bridget was over 
 whelmed with reproachful thanks when they 
 met again, and positively forbidden to make any 
 further purchases, on pain of betrayal to Mrs.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2QI 
 
 Wallace. Then she was won over, by caresses 
 and tears, to help Meta in a scheme she had in 
 view for the improvement of home affairs, and 
 soon the two were quite interested in sundry 
 small parcels that went backward and forward 
 under the ample folds of Bridget's blanket 
 shawl.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 JEAN came to New York, 
 and was soon a celebrity. Even Mrs. 
 Wallace condescended to be gracious to 
 the clever old Frenchman who took such an in 
 terest in her daughter, and who smilingly assured 
 her that Meta's voice was something quite won 
 derful in its way. The consternation of her 
 family was quite amusing at the first practice 
 insisted on by the professor, even without the 
 aid of a piano. The rich volume of voice filled 
 the little house with melody, and Monsieur Jean 
 clapped his hands in an ecstasy of amused de 
 light at the mother's amazement. Florry was 
 roused from her habitual indifference to such 
 things, and made quite a fuss over her sister's 
 wonderful powers. 
 
 " Why, mamma, she is equal to that French 
 (292)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2Q3 
 
 singer with the long name, isn't she ? " cried 
 Florry. 
 
 Even Edward showed more respect for the 
 "little midge of a thing;" and when Monsieur 
 Jean's enthusiastic musical friends were brought 
 to hear his " nightingale," as he called her, the 
 family delight knew no bounds. 
 
 At first Meta was much encouraged at the 
 praise lavished upon her, and Monsieur's assur 
 ance that he would find her as many scholars as 
 she wanted, since Mrs. Wallace utterly refused, 
 to .his great discomfiture, to countenance his 
 pet scheme of bringing out his prot/g/e at some 
 of his own private concerts. 
 
 " Why, madame," he said, taking a big pinch 
 of snuff as a relief ; " you stand in the way of 
 Meta's fame, her fortune." 
 
 " She cannot sing at your concerts, Monsieur. 
 I entirely disapprove of such things for so young 
 a girl." 
 
 For once Mrs. Wallace was decided, and 
 Meta's talent was thrown in other channels. 
 
 " Hein ! " cried Monsieur to one of his friends. 
 " What can we do with these Americans ? That 
 child has a voice to bring her a good support. 
 Well ! I suppose Madame Wallace too proud. 
 Such folly so American ! " 
 
 But, to Monsieur's greater surprise, Meta en-
 
 294 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 tirely sided with her mamma, and assured him it 
 was not pride, but an entirely resolute principle, 
 that would keep her from singing even at pri 
 vate concerts at her age ; and Monsieur, to con 
 sole her for the evident disappointment of find 
 ing that he was not so sure of scholars as he was 
 of success at his concerts, gave the assurance 
 that he would find as many as she wanted. 
 
 But time passed, and no scholars came. It 
 was extremely difficult to persuade people that 
 Meta could know much about the art ; and 
 though a few good-natured friends of the pro 
 fessor promised to use their influence, the poor 
 nightingale waited and watched in vain, finding 
 it best to abandon hopes of helping the family 
 by her voice, and going back, almost reluctantly, 
 to the sewing she procured from an establish 
 ment for infant outfits, through her faithful 
 Bridget. Meanwhile, Monsieur Jean sent 
 another surprise to the little house on Bond 
 street, in the shape of a pretty piano, which he 
 begged Meta might be allowed to accept. The 
 gift created quite a stir in the household, and a 
 diversity of opinion, as a matter of course. Meta 
 was filled with grateful surprise, and Mrs. Wal 
 lace inclined to allow the liberty ; but Florry 
 was very indignant. 
 
 " What does the old fellow mean by insulting
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 us ? " she cried, passionately. " Does he think 
 we are paupers ? " 
 
 " If he does, I'm sure he's not wide of the 
 mark," sneered Edward, who was present. 
 "You women never think of anything ra 
 tional!" 
 
 Here followed an angry discussion of several 
 minutes, and the brother, out of patience with 
 Florry's "high-flown ideas," muttered something 
 about sick people being always " cranky." 
 
 " In the way ! that's what you mean ! Never 
 mind,! won't trouble you long." 
 
 " Edward, how could you ? " cried Meta, se 
 verely, as Florry sobbed herself into a fit of ' 
 coughing. 
 
 Edward became uneasy and ashamed as he 
 saw the effect of the quarrel. The blue veins 
 swelled on Florry's transparent brow, and when 
 the handkerchief was taken from her lips, and 
 she threw herself on her pillows, exhausted, 
 Meta saw that it was streaked with blood. She 
 quietly took it from her sister's hand, and bathed 
 the flushed face tenderly. Edward, very repent 
 ant and miserable for he too had seen the blood 
 kissed the tears from the beautiful eyes as he 
 begged her forgiveness for his hasty words. 
 She was the one thing he really loved and ad 
 mired in life ; yet even to her his unkindness
 
 296 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 was often as frequent as to those to whom he 
 was perfectly indifferent. The question of the 
 piano was not again discussed, and it was duly 
 accorded the place of honor between the front 
 windows ; but Meta's pleasure in the generous 
 gift was sadly marred by the disturbance it had 
 caused. 
 
 One day, as she came into the house, after a 
 visit to Bridget, who had not been able to secure 
 the regular work from the sewing establishment, 
 the sound of low sobbing roused her from an 
 anxious reverie over the new trouble. Following 
 the sound, she went hurriedly into the parlor, 
 where Florry, with her head buried in the sofa 
 pillows, was in a state of violent agitation and 
 grief. 
 
 " O Florry, what is it ? " asked Meta, anxiously, 
 fearing the result of this paroxysm. 
 - " Mamma is out," sobbed Florry, "and that 
 hateful Edward has been frightening me to 
 death, saying I would tempt him to crime, and 
 he'd commit some dreadful act ; and all because 
 I asked him for some of Maillard's chocolate. 
 O Meta ! I know he had been drinking ! He 
 could scarcely stand, and shook his fist in my 
 face. Oh, I wish I was dead and out of every 
 body's way ! " 
 
 Meta took one of the delicate hands in hers, 
 and pressed it gently.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 2Q/ 
 
 " Don't say that, sister ! It is very wicked to 
 utter such a wish. Edward will be sorry when 
 he knows what he has done. God help us, if it 
 has come to this ! " 
 
 The brave heart gave way at this sudden con 
 firmation of her 'fears that Edward had begun 
 the downward road ; and, to Florry's amazement 
 and distress, her stout-hearted sister laid her 
 weary head on the pillow, and cried bitterly. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " she said, sighing ; " if mamma 
 would only come home ! If you are going to 
 cry too, what shall I do ? Poor me poor me ! " 
 Then the cough came on with terrible violence, 
 and the blood-streaked handkerchief brought ad 
 ditional terror to Meta's heart, as she held the 
 poor, tired frame in her arms when it was over. 
 Hands with her work to do had no time for 
 wiping away her own selfish tears. 
 
 A few hours later Edward came home, his 
 flushed face and heated breath revealing to his 
 astonished mother that a fearful evil indeed had 
 come upon them. A scene of angry recrimina 
 tion followed, which sent Meta flying up-stairs, 
 to cry Ln the solitude of her own room, and to 
 pray for strength to meet this new trial. 
 " ' Though He slay me, yet will I trust in him,' " 
 she murmured to her sinking courage. " ' It is 
 I ; be not afraid.' " Christ had stilled fiercer
 
 398 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 tempests than these, and given victory in 
 greater conflicts. Why should she doubt him 
 now, when his mercy had sustained her so long ? 
 Having sent the trial, surely the solace would" 
 come in due time, when his design was worked 
 out. Trembling, downcast, fearful of sorrow 
 in store, Faith came forth triumphant in the 
 struggle, and enabled her to cry out, trust 
 fully : " ' He who knows me best shall choose 
 forme!"' 
 
 From this time an almost imperceptible 
 change came over Florry. A sadness and si 
 lence were stealing over her life, and she had 
 lost some of the fretful, unreasoning spirit that 
 had made it so hard to render her comfortable 
 and cheerful in this life of new habits and dep 
 rivations. Meta often sighed to see her turning 
 over the laces and jewels she had saved from the 
 genera] wreck, brushing the dust off the delicate 
 fabrics, and laying them back in their boxes, 
 with a far-away look in the beautiful, fading eyes. 
 This change brought a great relief to the sor 
 rowful young watcher, who read so well the 
 doom of the frail loveliness before her, as she 
 hoped and trusted that a sense of what awaited 
 her was dawning on the invalid's mind, and 
 gradually weaning her from the poor, trivial, 
 earthly things that once made up her very life.
 
 THE SEEN ^AND UNSEEN. 
 
 Yet Florry never asked sympathy, nor did she 
 reveal what was passing in her mind during the 
 long, sad hours of weakness and loneliness ; so 
 the sister, full of faith, could only hope on, and 
 pray.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 OURAGE, faint hearts! the darkest 
 hour is truly just before day ! However 
 long and dreary the night-watches, rosy 
 dawn is stealing on, as surely as the midnight 
 blackness and weariness are drifting among the 
 shadows. It is hard, sometimes, to wait in pa 
 tience, and to believe that, beyond the impene 
 trable mists that blind us with a heavy cloud, 
 the beautiful, sunshiny day is really awaiting us ; 
 but it is even so, if we can but bide His time 
 and His ways. " Blessed are they who have not 
 seen, and yet have believed." 
 
 On a morning when Meta felt as if everything 
 was against her; when, foot-sore and heart-sick, 
 she walked wearily through the busy crowds, 
 whose very energy seemed to mock her ; when 
 the work that Bridget had secured could no 
 (3)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 30! 
 
 longer be found, and home trials had become 
 grievous to bear, the mighty Hand in which she 
 trusted led her faltering steps into paths of 
 pleasantness and peace. 
 
 Overcome at the thought that neither music 
 scholars nor work could be found, she had sud 
 denly remembered Alice Agneau, and resolved 
 to seek her old school-friend, and beg of her the 
 sewing she could not obtain elsewhere. The 
 thought filled her with hope ; and Alice's enthu 
 siastic reception and eager sympathy when the 
 sorrows were told, lifted a weight off the anx 
 ious heart. 
 
 " Work ? " cried Alice, when she would admit 
 the necessity of her dear Meta's sewing for her, 
 " work, my poor darling ? Yes ! Papa has a 
 dozen shirts, and I have, dear knows' how many 
 dresses, and you shall do them all ! I wish I 
 could only help you, really." But the relieved 
 Meta assured her, with grateful tears, that she 
 had helped her ; and then they cried, girl-fash 
 ion, in each other's arms, and old Agneau and 
 Francois made up a huge parcel of confection 
 ery for Florence ; and Meta went on her way 
 rejoicing. 
 
 Alice, true to her promise, provided as much 
 sewing as her friend could accomplish, even with 
 the utmost diligence, and paid extravagant prices
 
 3<D2 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 for every article. Meta' doubted whether the 
 sewing was really of such value ; but her scru 
 ples gave way when mamma and Florry, whom 
 she had won over to the arrangement by dexter 
 ous management, " guessed it was all right, as 
 they had paid about twice as much to the dress 
 makers." So the matter was settled. 
 
 One day, as Meta went into Agneau's back 
 room with one of her bundles of work, she jos 
 tled against a gentleman who stood at the 
 counter. With a hurried apology she went on, 
 and transacted her business with Alice satisfac 
 torily. On reentering the store and stopping 
 for a nice morsel for Florry, she observed the 
 same gentleman at the counter; only, now, he 
 came forward, holding out both hands, and 
 smiled down in her face. 
 
 " Don't you know me ? " he asked, laughing. 
 
 " O Mr. Ascher! is it you ?" 
 
 She took in the joyful truth with one glance, 
 and then sank into a chair, covered her face 
 with her hands, and cried with the excess of joy 
 that filled her. Oh, what a solace to her per 
 plexities ! what an answer to her prayers ! 
 
 " This is a nice greeting," said Mr. Ascher, 
 tenderly taking her hands in his. "Why, little 
 one! do you want me to go back to Palestine, 
 that you weep at sight of my old gray beard ? "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 303 
 
 Meta looked up, smiling and sobbing almost 
 at once. 
 
 " You know how I thank God for bringing 
 you back at last ! That is why I cry not for 
 grief. ' Oh, I have so needed your friendship; 
 and now " 
 
 " Come ! let's be reasonable, Meta. I've come, 
 and I don't intend to go again in a hurry! 
 So, dry your eyes, and let us walk soberly and 
 rationally homeward, for I don't fancy relating 
 my adventures just here! Stand up, and let me 
 have a look at what Time has made of you ! 
 Bless me ! I would never have recognized you, 
 Meta ! Why, there's nothing left of my fat little 
 friend but her eyes ! " 
 
 And so, with kind raillery, Mr. Ascher drie4 
 the tears, and they walked out to the corner to 
 hail a car, as happy a pair as the great city held 
 that day. On the homeward ride, Mr. Ascher 
 told her that he had been in the country only 
 a few weeks ; that news of Mr. Wallace's death 
 had not reached him until just before he left 
 England; that he had learned of their losses 
 when he arrived in New York, and had endeav 
 ored to find out their abode ; but though he 
 made every effort, so busy is life's whirl, and so 
 changeful are summer friends, he found that the 
 Wallaces had dropped out of people's minds.
 
 304 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 At last he thought, in his perplexity, of Meta's 
 old friend Agneau ; and he had gone into the 
 store to make inquiries, when Meta's entrance, 
 and old Agneau's muttered mention of her name 
 in his polite greeting, had suddenly found him 
 what he sought. 
 
 Great was the surprise in Bond street when 
 Meta announced the visitor. Never had guest 
 more earnest welcome ; even Florry sprang up 
 to shake hands, and loudly expressed her joy, 
 shocking Mr. Ascher beyond measure by the 
 sight of her excessive frailness and the terrible 
 change that was written on her face. A long, 
 earnest, half-tearful, half-joyful interview was 
 held in the little parlor; the widow recounting 
 her trials to the sympathizing listener, and filling 
 him with a generous desire to share with the 
 family of his old benefactor the wealth that had 
 crowned his efforts. Something of this he did 
 urge ; but Mrs. Wallace, in the midst of her 
 grateful tears, refused to listen to such a pro 
 posal. 
 
 " Then let me carry out my original plan, and 
 take Meta off your hands," he persisted ; " she 
 will be one less to provide for." 
 
 " Meta take Meta ! " cried Florry, hurriedly. 
 " No, sir ! she cannot be spared ! She is all we 
 have to rely on ! "
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 305 
 
 " One less, Mr. Ascher ? " smiled the mother. 
 " ' A house divided against itself/ you know ! 
 Don't ask me to give you my brave little woman 
 just now! " 
 
 There was an infinite tenderness in her voice, 
 that brought a sweet reward for Meta's patient 
 continuance in well-doing. She had not dreamed 
 how far her gentle, silent, Christian spirit had 
 influenced them all, and the glad surprise was 
 all too much for her composure. 
 
 " Are we to be deluged, incorrigible child ? " 
 asked Mr. Ascher, tenderly, as he took her hand. 
 "Is that fountain inexhaustible ? Come! We've 
 had enough of weeping ; beware, lest I join you 
 myself ! Will you board me, Miss House 
 keeper ? " 
 
 " I'll think about it," she said, smiling, " if 
 you promise not to smoke in the parlor." 
 
 " Can't I have one pipe a day ? Remember, 
 I've been in the land of Oriental indulgence in 
 the weed. One pipe ? is it a bargain ? " 
 
 And so, with happy jest, in the midst of all 
 this thankful, serious joy, the first day of happi 
 ness passed away.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ," said Mr. Ascher, suddenly, after 
 a pause in one of their long talks, 
 " Meta, what was done with your fa 
 ther's papers ? " 
 
 " They were given into the executor's hands ; 
 Mr. Clay has charge of our affairs, you know. 
 Why do you ask, Mr. Ascher ? " 
 
 "Why, your father had in his possession a 
 note of mine, which has never been redeemed. 
 There was an understanding between us on the 
 subject, and that is the reason I gave myself no 
 concern until I discovered the extent of your 
 losses. Surely, if Mr. Clay has possession of 
 the note, he has been very negligent not to pre 
 sent the claim, especially when he knows your 
 straits. What is the matter, child ? " 
 " Did papa never write to you for another 
 1306)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 307 
 
 note ? " she asked, in a low voice ; old events 
 coming back in full force for the first time in 
 years. 
 
 " Write for another ? No ! why should he 
 have written ? " 
 
 " Because " after a slight pause " because 
 that paper was destroyed very long ago." 
 
 " Your father's careless handling, I suppose ! 
 Who destroyed it ? and how did it happen that 
 I never heard of the loss ? " 
 
 " O Mr. Ascher ! please don't laugh at me " 
 in a distressed voice "but I chewed it 
 up and swallowed it ! " 
 
 " Chewed it up ! swallowed it, eh ! This is a 
 pretty piece of business, indeed. Come, Meta ! 
 out with your story ! How did it happen ? " 
 
 In a mortified tone she related the circum 
 stance so long forgotten, and sighed out, in con 
 elusion : 
 
 " Papa promised me he would write to you foj 
 another " 
 
 " But he never did, my dear, and you haven'1 
 a shadow of proof that I owe it ; have you, 
 now ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I have not " with a surprised look 
 in his face. 
 
 The eyes, sparkling with mirth, turned away 
 from her earnest, shocked glance, as he an 
 swered :
 
 3O8 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Not a shadow of proof, my young financier. 
 You have quietly eaten five thousand dollars, 
 with twenty years' interest added " 
 
 Meta groaned, despairingly. 
 
 " Now, that would be very funny, if you had 
 it to spare; but as Florry is sick and your 
 mother quite poor, I call that an extravagant, 
 indigestible meal ! Come ! What do you say ? " 
 
 "I call you a cruel, cruel friend," she 
 cried, sobbing. 
 
 " Another deluge ? I'll have to go down town 
 and buy me the biggest ' Noah's Ark ' in the 
 city ! Hold up your head, and let me tell you 
 what I shall have to do. Won't hold it up, eh ? 
 .Obstinate little gourmand, little cannibal " 
 
 Meta looked up, and saw a face absolutely 
 sparkling with merriment. He looked at her, 
 laughing heartily, and then continued : 
 
 " I am going to deposit that money to your 
 credit, to-morrow, in the Bank of New York ; 
 every cent of it is yours, my little Meta." 
 
 " Mine ? You mean mamma's, Mr. Ascher." 
 
 " No, I mean yours. Your father advanced 
 me a loan of ten thousand dollars when I started 
 business for myself in the West, which was to 
 bear interest from the date of loan, and to be 
 repaid at any time that suited me best. At the 
 end of five years I offered to pay the whole
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 309 
 
 amount ; but your father, who was always gener 
 ous, discovered that should I do so my business 
 would be greatly hampered, and we then com 
 promised by the payment of half, and by mak 
 ing a new note, payable on demand, for the bal 
 ance. He was anxious to give me the sum, from 
 a kind recklessness in money affairs and a sin 
 cere interest in my success ; but this I of course 
 refused. After considerable parley, your father 
 laughingly proposed that you who were then 
 an infant, whom I had just been fondling and 
 playing with should be heiress of the amount ; 
 and he made out, on the spur of the moment, 
 the new bond. ' If, in the strange transitions of 
 life, my future fails,' he said, lightly, 'let my 
 little daughter there take the money ; if I out 
 live you, why, it stands as it is.' " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Meta, drawing a long breath. 
 " You may well say, ' Oh ! ' Suppose I had 
 died, and all I have had gone to my distant kith 
 and kin, and that Florry had languished and 
 your mother suffered because you possessed an 
 unheard-of appetite for negotiable notes." 
 
 " I think you are laughing at me, Mr. 
 Ascher." 
 
 " Or suppose I was not an honest man." 
 " I cannot suppose that, you know." 
 " Well ! suppose you come over here, and let 
 me look in your eyes while I tell you a story."
 
 3IO META WALLACE, OR 
 
 " I can do that, easily," she said, rising, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Meta, do you think I owe you nothing beside 
 that debt ? " 
 
 " Nothing, sir, but friendship ! What else ? " 
 
 "Child, do you know what I have found in 
 my wanderings these weary years ? I have 
 found that God whom I did not seek in the days 
 of my youth. Do you remember a timid little 
 voice whispering, ' Mr. Ascher, won't you try 
 to love God, just a little ? ' I fiave been trying 
 ever since, dear Meta ; and, thanks be to God, I 
 have gotten me the victory, through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ ! " 
 
 Meta could not answer, for her joy was great ; 
 but she timidly laid her soft hand on the gray 
 hairs, and prayed in her heart of hearts that God 
 might bless the good man, whose friendship was 
 such a privilege and a blessing to her life. 
 
 " And how was your promise kept, my little 
 one ? Is the ring still worn ? " 
 
 Meta held .out her hand, and pointed lovingly 
 to the plain circlet. 
 
 " So, you have not failed me, child ! God has 
 watched between me and thee, and has blessed 
 our friendship through distance and time. We 
 are treading the same path in our pilgrimage 
 4 the ways, they are many, the end, it is one ! '
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 31 I 
 
 You in your sweet, youthful freshness, and I in 
 my gray hairs, from out the ' kingdoms of the 
 world/ have still the same ambition to run 
 with patience the race that is set before us, 
 striving to obtain the prize." 
 
 " So, it seems you're an heiress, in a weak 
 way, Miss Sobersides," said Edward, good-hu- 
 moredly, when Mr. Ascher had succeeded in 
 convincing the assembled family that he really 
 owed Meta a considerable sum, and was not 
 using this as an excuse for assisting them. 
 "Well, little sis, don't put on airs because your 
 estates in the moon have turned out so well. 
 Come ! won't you help a fellow pay his club 
 fee ? " 
 
 " I shall turn my fortune over to mamma, of 
 course," said Meta, laughing, " and she .can de 
 vise a punishment for my fortunate meal at 
 Bellevue." 
 
 " O mamma and Meta ! " cried Florry, clap 
 ping her hands, " let us go away where I can 
 hear the birds sing and see the flowers ! We 
 have money, now, to take us, and I am so tired 
 of my life between brick walls ! " 
 
 " Hear the birds sing ! " " See the flowers ! " 
 was it possible Florry craved these things ? 
 Mrs. Wallace and Meta exchanged sorrowful 
 glances.
 
 312 AfETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 " Please take me away," continued the sick 
 girl, earnestly. " I shall never go out again, 
 here. My dresses are all too large for me ; I 
 folded them in the big trunk, up-stairs, long ago. 
 Meta, those pretty Valenciennes laces are there, 
 too ; you can have them, only you don't care 
 about dress." 
 
 " Florry, what can you mean, darling ? " cried 
 Mrs. Wallace, soothingly. " Don't give away 
 your laces." 
 
 " O mamma, mamma ! are you blind ? I have 
 long seen how it would be, and felt sure of it in 
 my heart. I shall never wear laces again. I 
 can never go to balls and operas with Meta's 
 money. My silks hang on me as if I were a 
 skeleton, and Meta must wear them all ! " 
 Florry buried her face in her mother's lap, and 
 sobbed bitterly. 
 
 " You will break my heart if you talk so, dar 
 ling," said the mother, brokenly. " We will take 
 you to some watering-place, if you desire the 
 country " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I mean the real, quiet country, 
 mamma; not one of those stifling, crowded 
 places. I don't want gayety ; I shall never 
 dance again. I hate the very sight of my beau 
 tiful clothes and my little satin slippers. O 
 Meta, darling, teach me how you learned to care
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 313 
 
 for other things than these, for there is nothing 
 left me but to learn how to die ! " 
 
 Meta took the hands, so piteously outstretched, 
 and tried, through her tears, to soothe the wild 
 outburst of grief and fear that followed Florry's 
 speech. To deny the truth of what she had 
 said would be cruel and useless. She could 
 only lift her heart in silent prayer for grace to 
 help and comfort the sorrowful soul that had 
 come to a full knowledge of its fate. 
 
 " Do you remember," said her sister, after a 
 pause " do you remember the book we cried 
 over last winter ? I can never forget the awe 
 that came over me as you read of that dead girl 
 with ' worms busy at her fairness.' Can I ever 
 think of that without shuddering, Meta ? Oh, 
 is my beauty fit only for this ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wallace tried to put a stop to the scene, 
 but Florry's agitation could not be suppressed. 
 A violent coughing spell ensued, and the life- 
 tide poured in a red stream from the pallid lips. 
 
 " Never mind," said Florry, faintly ;' " this is 
 not the first time. Poor mamma!" 
 
 The tired eyelids closed wearily, and a faint 
 ing fit of alarming length terrified the little 
 household into a sudden realization that the dark 
 cloud, so long threatening, was nearer than they 
 supposed.
 
 314 AT ETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 Mrs. Wallace was overwhelmed at the magni 
 tude and certainty of the sorrow awaiting her, 
 as she sat all through that long night at her 
 daughter's side. Wild, rebellious murmurs 
 filled her heart ; for Florry was her idol, her 
 pride, her precious jewel above price. She had 
 forgotten the injunction, or rather, it fell on 
 deaf ears : " Little children, keep yourselves 
 from idols." 
 
 For days Florence kept her bed, clinging 
 with a childlike confidence to Meta, listening 
 with eagerness to the low words of comfort and 
 faith that came from the depths of a sorrowful 
 yet thankful heart. All the old contempt was 
 forgotten ; Florry seemed to realize with desper 
 ate earnestness that she had no time to deal 
 with life's trivialities, and her fretful, repining 
 spirit was wonderfully subdued. A very babe 
 in religion, she grasped at the mysterious truths 
 of immortality with a feverish energy that 
 proved how readily she appreciated the folly of 
 all earthly creeds when the battle with life and 
 death was in truth before her. The " new body" 
 which had so seized on Meta's childish imagina 
 tion made a deep impression upon her sister, 
 who listened with dilating eyes to the exposition 
 of that glorious future that awaited the mortal 
 putting on immortality. Calling Meta to her
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 315 
 
 one night, as she was preparing to retire, Florry 
 whispered, lovingly : 
 
 " You are a dear little comforter, God bless 
 you ! There ! don't cry! you'll make me cough ; 
 and I feel better than I have done for days. 
 Good-night, darling! Why, your cheek is all 
 wet ! Don't cry for me, Meta. You deserve to 
 live, and -I have frittered away all my time. 
 There ! I can't talk, now." 
 
 Meta went to her couch that night with a 
 thankful heart. She was beginning to see 
 " fields white unto the harvest," and could thank 
 God for her sure belief in the promise, " In due 
 time ye shall reap, if ye faint not." 
 
 As soon as Florry's strength rallied, after the 
 hemorrhage, her longing for country sights and 
 sounds was gratified. Mr. Ascher rented for 
 Mrs. Wallace a pretty country residence, filled 
 it with many little comforts beyond their means, 
 and superintended the move from the city, 
 which, by easy stages, was safely accomplished. 
 With the strange variableness of her disease, 
 Florry rallied wonderfully for awhile, taking so 
 much interest in the birds and flowers provided 
 by Mr. Ascher's thoughtfulness, and seeming so 
 thoroughly to enjoy the sweet, pure atmosphere 
 that filled her with renewed life, that Mrs. Wal 
 lace's fears subsided, and she allowed herself to
 
 3l6 MET A WALLACE. 
 
 be deluded with false hopes ; while the rest saw 
 too well that the end was only postponed for 
 a time, and the sentence as unchanging as 
 the sun.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 RIDGET had overcome Meta's scruples 
 in regard to paying her smaller wages 
 than she had been receiving, and had 
 left her good place in the city, in order to as 
 sist her young mistress in the trying times her 
 watchful love had foreseen for the future. 
 Mrs. Wallace very gladly accepted her ser 
 vices, and, leaving all household arrangements 
 to Meta, never knew of the sacrifice the good 
 Irishwoman had made to accompany them to 
 Rose Cottage, in Westchester. Florry took a 
 wonderful fancy to Bridget's ministering. No 
 one knew better how to shake up and smooth 
 the snowy pillows, or to lift the weak frame from 
 sofa to bed ; and the invalid fancied that no but 
 tered toast or poached egg compared with those 
 compounded in " real Irish style, honey," as 
 
 (317)
 
 318 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 Bridget invariably informed her. The relief to 
 Meta was intense when her faithful nurse took, 
 by degrees, the heavy responsibility of house 
 keeping off her young shoulders, leaving her 
 time to devote to reading and talking to Florry. 
 
 The invalid's room was the family resort. 
 There Mr. Ascher, when he came up from the 
 city every night, brought his cheerful face and 
 merry talk to cheer the languid girl, telling her 
 all the bright, interesting incidents of his day, 
 laying his nightly tribute of choice flowers and 
 fruits on her little table, and being so consider 
 ate and loving that his presence became neces 
 sary to her comfort. 
 
 Monsieur Jean, too, took great interest in his 
 friends, and would spend his Saturday's leisure 
 at the cottage ; amusing Florry with his queer 
 kindliness, always bringing a goodly supply of 
 bon-bons, and affording her many hours of exqui 
 site pleasure by drawing /orth sweet sounds from 
 Meta's piano. Beethoven's inspired harmonies 
 were Florry's chief joy at twilight, and the old 
 professor, delighted to find his favorite so rever 
 enced, would sit at the piano in the dim light, 
 reveling in the magnificent Septuor, or the 
 sweet minor strains of some of the symphonies, 
 till the very air seemed purified and impreg 
 nated with the melody.
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 319 
 
 Edward, still out of employment, had taken a 
 wonderful fancy for farming, entirely on a theo 
 retic plan of his own, and turned the few acres 
 belonging to the cottage into his field of opera 
 tions. He had persuaded himself that this was 
 his long undiscovered " forte," and that he was 
 destined to reveal the wonders of untried genius 
 to an admiring world. 
 
 " You shall wear your silks and diamonds yet, 
 my beautiful Flora ! " he said, confidently, to his 
 sister, one day, after unfolding some wonderful 
 scheme for benefiting agricultural science. " We 
 will see you as regal as ever before the world, 
 my queen ! " 
 
 Florence shook her head sadly as Meta signed 
 to Edward to stop. 
 
 " Speak to him, Meta," she said, wearily ; 
 " tell him I can never wear gems again. He 
 doesn't understand that my place is under the 
 flowers so soon so soon, too ! " 
 
 " Poor Flora ! " cried Edward, stroking her 
 hair a moment, and then suddenly leaving the 
 room. 
 
 " O Meta, Meta," sobbed Florence on her sis 
 ter's shoulder, " don't let him talk to me so 
 again ! Don't let me ever begin to think of the 
 possibility of going out again ! It can never, 
 never be."
 
 32O META WALLACE, OR 
 
 11 Do you think, Bridget, that any one ever 
 wanted to die ? " asked Florry, one evening, of 
 her kind attendant, when the rest were at tea. 
 " Do you believe I will really long to go, as 
 Johnny did ?" 
 
 " Maybe not maybe not, deary ; it's not I 
 as can say that ! Your cough is bad and your 
 frame is weak, but you haven't like the same 
 pains with my boy, and the blessed rest doesn't 
 seem as wishful to ye, perhaps ; but you're not 
 for living always so helpless and suffering, my 
 poor lamb ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," answered Florry, calmly ; " I know 
 I can never be strong again, and I feel no desire 
 to live, now. But I was afraid I ought to want 
 to die ever so much, you know, Bridget, and I 
 am not good enough for that, yet " 
 
 " God gives us that strength, sure, when it's 
 needed," interrupted Bridget, eagerly ; " don't 
 go for worrying yourself with the like. He 
 promises to make all our bed in our sick 
 ness " 
 
 " Yes, I know ; it wasn't that," said Florry, a 
 new light stealing into the beautiful dark eyes. 
 " I know I am not afraid any more, because 
 Meta has made me see that I shall surely be sus 
 tained, and when He bids me go through the 
 deep. waters, His love will keep me from dread
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 and danger! Only, Bridget, I know mamma 
 will grieve so bitterly, and she is so blind to it 
 all. She thinks that my improvement here is 
 so encouraging, and cannot believe what I 
 feel so sure of that it is only the dying flutter 
 of the candle, so soon to go out in darkness. 
 This is what perplexes me, and makes me won 
 der if I can ever really desire to give her so 
 much sorrow and suffering." 
 
 " Nay, poor lamb, it's not in your own hands," 
 said Bridget, wiping her eyes ; " the blow comes 
 from far above us, and she must e'en bear it. 
 I trust her eyes will be opened, my darlint, to 
 many a beautiful thing. Sure, it'll be hard for 
 her to keep her thoughts away from heaven, an' 
 ye there, her jewel, her treasure." 
 
 " Oh, I trust so," sighed the sick girl. " It 
 would be a great grief to me to feel that poor 
 mamma will always live the old life; and if my 
 going will help her, as God in his mercy has 
 helped me to see the nothingness and vanity of 
 my years wasted, I would not feel a pang in 
 parting, for I know that it is not forever." 
 
 One evening in early spring, a party gathered 
 in the sick-room for the last time. Softly and 
 tenderly Death laid his hand on the snowy fore 
 head, and was stealing the light from the beau-
 
 322 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 tiful eyes. Florence was spared the suffering 
 and pain, at the last, of most consumptives, and, 
 though the paroxysms of coughing were distress 
 ing to the sorrowing group gathered around her 
 couch, they seemed scarcely to affect the tran 
 quil, peaceful expression on her lovely face. 
 She was going forth on the dark journey, safe 
 with that " rod and staff " she had grasped in 
 undoubting faith; 
 
 "Christ my righteousness," she murmured, 
 fixing her fading eyes on her mother's face. " O 
 mamma Edward believe ! " 
 
 That was all for a long time, as the watchers 
 wept and prayed. She was so still, the faint 
 breath scarcely stirring the linen on her breast, 
 that Mrs. Wallace, with a cry of agony, bent her 
 ear to the parted lips. 
 
 " He giveth the victory," came tremblingly, 
 feebly to the mother's ear ; " mamma, do not re 
 ject " Then, as if new strength had come to 
 the parting spirit, the voice grew clearer and tri 
 umphant as she cried, " ' O Death, where is thy 
 sting ? ' " and, drooping her head on Meta's 
 shoulder, like a tired child, sank to rest. A fee 
 ble flutter of breath a pressure of the hand 
 and the long lashes shut out the light of those 
 beautiful eyes forever. 
 
 Days of wretchedness to the bereaved mother
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 323 
 
 followed on Florry's death. Locking herself 
 away from all sympathy, refusing even neces 
 sary food, she met the greatest shock of her life 
 with no solace beyond the world ; and what was 
 the world to her now ? In Florry had been cen 
 tered all her ambitious hopes. She had never 
 allowed herself to believe that her beautiful 
 child must surely die, and the obstinate eyes 
 refused to see, until Death had entered the 
 household and covered her idol with the shadow 
 of his wing. 
 
 For though we dare to dream, in human pride, 
 Our idols from His knowledge we can hide, 
 He will not of his worship be denied. 
 
 Though for a time He grants our mad desire 
 To live 'mid human joys, nor seek the higher, 
 The purging comes at last and comes by fire. 
 
 Cherish thy earthly ties yea, guard them well 
 But leave thy Maker, still, a place to dwell 
 Unsullied and unshared by earthly spell. 
 
 Else blessing in thy love thou seek'st in vain ; 
 He will not leave thy heart unpurged with pain ; 
 Erect no idol where thy God should reign. 
 
 Bridget's loving sympathy and Mr. Ascher's 
 tender watchfulness were Meta's comfort when 
 Mrs. Wallace, shutting herself away to her sor 
 row, as " one without hope," left *to her young 
 daughter all the sad care of the beloved dead.
 
 324 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 But that inner strength that made her, though 
 " sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing," the mercy in 
 which she had trusted supplied in her time of 
 trial. Florence's peaceful death, giving sure 
 hope of a blessed future, was surely too great 
 a source of thankfulness for her not to bear 
 the bitter sting with patience. The wonderful 
 change in her gay, thoughtless nature, and the 
 happy faith so graciously vouchsafed when at 
 first it seemed so impossible to impress the 
 self-indulgent spirit, filled Meta's heart with 
 gratitude unspeakable for the first-fruits of her 
 sowing of precious seed. 
 
 Edward was greatly affected by his sjster's 
 death. Coming to Meta, several weeks after 
 the event, he said, pointing upward, as he always 
 did when speaking of the dead : 
 
 " Sis, what did she mean ? I've just been 
 putting some of her favorite daisies on her 
 grave, and I suddenly remembered what she had 
 said that dreadful night. You understand ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Meta, gravely; "but, dear Ed 
 ward, I hoped you had not forgotten so soon " 
 
 " Don't preach," interrupted her brother, im 
 patiently ; " I don't pretend to be a saint yet. 
 Just tell me up and down what Florry meant by 
 telling me to believe; for, if I can do as she 
 wanted me to, why, I will that's all! I tell
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 325 
 
 you what, old lady, I never could listen to your 
 sobersided lectures ; but Florry's a different per 
 son. If she could find it so easy to die my 
 poor little beauty ! why, I'd like to know how 
 to carry out her wishes. Bless her sweet face ! 
 how I loved that little sister ! I don't believe I 
 care much whether I succeed or not, now." 
 
 Edward's eyes glistened as he abruptly turned 
 away, too full of grief to say more. 
 
 Meta did not neglect to work upon the first 
 faint desires to follow Florry's advice that had 
 sprung up in her brother's heart, but, as one 
 touching on hallowed ground, undertook the 
 new mission humbly. Oh, if she might be per 
 mitted to " strengthen the brethren ! " She was 
 finding work enough for the willing heart as she 
 toiled in the Master's vineyard, nothing doubt 
 ing that the harvest was in store.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 IVE years of varied experience, of sun 
 shine and shadow, sickness and health, 
 sorrow and joy, have passed over Meta's 
 sunny head, but the trusting, earnest, faithful 
 heart is unchanged. The child has developed 
 into the thoughtful Christian woman ; but time 
 has not marred the beautiful promise of youth, 
 nor the world stifled the noble aspirations and 
 firm-rooted principles of faith. There is no in 
 fluence more silently exerted or more potent than 
 that of Christian example unanswerably prov 
 ing the weakness of the scoffer's creed, and ex 
 hibiting the precious ornament of a " meek and 
 quiet spirit," against all the contradictions and 
 disappointments of life, which in itself proves 
 the strength of that Power that sustains and 
 guides. 
 (326)
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 327 
 
 In the pretty sunshiny parlor at Rose Cottage, 
 surrounded by comforts and refinements almost 
 equal to the old life, Mrs. Wallace sits in her 
 easy-chair, with an open volume in her lap. 
 But her eyes have wandered from the page be 
 fore her, out from the lace-draped windows, 
 across the bright flowers and waving trees of 
 their pretty garden, to a spot far off in the cor 
 ner of the little iron-railed plot where her dar 
 ling sleeps the spot that holds at once her 
 greatest earthly grief and most blessed joy 
 where her thoughts are always wandering so 
 yearningly, while her hands take up the daily 
 tasks they have found to do. Years have 
 wrought a merciful change in the haughty spirit, 
 and Florry's early death was not in vain. The 
 faith that lighted up those dying eyes, and 
 changed the nervous, frightened invalid, shud 
 dering at thought of death and the worms, to 
 the triumphant, hopeful Christian, has never 
 been forgotten, nor failed to awaken a longing 
 after things unseen, which are eternal. God 
 sends his Holy Spirit to create and to help 
 these feebly-shooting seeds of Christian faith, 
 and never leaves the earnest desire to die out, 
 unaided, in its search after light. He who will 
 " neither break the bruised reed nor quench the 
 smoking flax " requires nothing impossible of his
 
 328 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 children ; and if we grieve when he takes from 
 us our dearest joys, he does not leave us com 
 fortless, but makes of our sorrow a source of 
 spiritual good, and brings forth from the depths 
 of humiliation the brightest fruits of righteous 
 ness and peace. 
 
 The short summer afternoon was almost over, 
 and Florry's grave in the garden was losing it 
 self in shadows, when Mrs. Wallace, turning 
 sadly from the window, felt a tender hand on her 
 own. Starting at the sudden interruption to her 
 reverie, she made an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 " It's only I, mamma," cried Meta, laughing ; 
 " have I frightened you ? Mr. Ascher insisted 
 I should run ahead of him to announce his ar 
 rival, and, seeing you alone, I stole in as noise 
 lessly as possible." 
 
 " Mr. Ascher here ? " said her mother, hur 
 riedly rising. " Pray let me go to him at once. 
 Where is he, Meta ? " 
 
 " Out in the garden with guess whom, 
 mamma!" slowly and mischievously. 
 
 " Monsieur Jean, I suppose. I'm not good at 
 guessing, you know, dear." 
 
 "Monsieur Jean, mamma! Why, he sailed 
 for France a month ago ! No, indeed ! it is my 
 dear Winny Clifton ; and Mr. Ascher has 
 brought her here to give me a charming sur-
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 
 
 329 
 
 prise. O mamma ! he has bought Bellevue ; and 
 there is something very mysterious about it ; 
 and there's to be an infant department I don't 
 know exactly what ! " 
 
 " ' Bought Bellevue ! ' ' infant department ! ' 
 Why, Meta ! you are losing your wits." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, mamma ! But come out to 
 Winny, please. She is waiting in the carriage ; 
 and when we have welcomed her among us, Mr. 
 Ascher will tell you the wonderful plan he has 
 so slyly conceived in his dear old head." 
 
 Mrs. Wallace, quite as curious as Meta, fol 
 lowed her out to the carriage, giving Miss Clif 
 ton a warm welcome, though she had appeared 
 so unexpectedly among them. 
 
 " I fear you will think me very unceremoni 
 ous," smiled Winny, half apologizing ; " but Mr. 
 Ascher would not listen to reason, and I was 
 obliged to appear unannounced." 
 
 Mr. Ascher smiled too, as he assisted the 
 invalid to her inseparable companion, the 
 wheeled chair ; but he positively refused to be 
 questioned, until the smoke of his favorite pipe 
 inspired him to eloquence. 
 
 " Don't think I am going to beg you to tell," 
 said Meta, pouting ; " you are a naughty old 
 gentleman, and when the spirit of contradiction 
 is roused, I have nothing to do with you ! "
 
 33O MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 " I wouldn't curb such independence," said 
 Mr. Ascher, rubbing his hands, and laughing ; 
 " it would be a pity to disturb such unfeminine 
 self-possession. I don't believe you have your 
 share of curiosity. But never mind ! I am not 
 going to tease, to-night. Just run off and make 
 me one of your famous cups of tea, and give me 
 a nice little supper, and I'll promise you a whole 
 evening's good behavior to pay for it." 
 
 And when Winny was made thoroughly com 
 fortable, and had partaken of Meta's abundant 
 refreshment, Mr. Ascher consented to light his 
 pipe and unfold the mystery, which had puzzled 
 his young friend all through the supper, notwith 
 standing her determination not to appear inter 
 ested in anything beyond the praise lavished 
 upon her success as a housekeeper. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace was overcome with surprise and 
 emotion when she learned the extent of Mr. As- 
 cher's generous designs, and Meta could scarcely 
 believe it possible that she was really mistress 
 of Bellevue ; the beautiful home that had been 
 the birthplace and the grave of so many genera 
 tions of Wallaces, until it had passed out of their 
 possession with the rest of their wealth, never, 
 as they thought, to be recovered. 
 
 Mr. Ascher had purchased the estate with 
 some difficulty, as its present owner could not
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 331 
 
 be induced, except by the offer of an almost fab 
 ulous sum, to sell the property at all ; but per 
 severance and a high price had finally overcome, 
 and Bellevue passed into Mr. Ascher's hands. 
 He had settled the valuable property upon Meta 
 as soon as the sale was concluded, reserving 
 only a small portion of the tract as a building 
 site, in order to carry out his long-cherished de 
 sign of founding an orphan school. As soon as 
 possible after obtaining possession of the estate, 
 he had built and thoroughly fitted up a large, 
 handsome house for his orphans ; and, finding 
 the Bellevue house and furniture unchanged, 
 save for the wear and tear of time, had made 
 no additions or alterations, that his friends 
 might have the greater pleasure in returning to 
 their old home. 
 
 When his design appeared likely to be car 
 ried out, Mr. Ascher had written to Miss Clif 
 ton, from a generous desire of providing a pleas 
 ant and lucrative employment for his favorite's 
 old friend, and after unfolding his plans, and 
 assuring her that her assistance would be inval 
 uable, had induced her to accept the position of 
 matron. Winny was overjoyed at the prospect 
 of such a home, and a life of real usefulness 
 among the little ones whom Mr. Ascher's benev 
 olence had rescued from want and sin ; and the
 
 332 AT ETA WALLACE, OR 
 
 idea of being permanently settled near Meta 
 added no little to her delight in furthering the 
 good man's charitable designs. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace could not restrain her tears as 
 Mr. Ascher so naturally, and as if it were all a 
 matter of course, revealed how entirely his 
 thoughts and time had been devoted to Meta's 
 interests ; but at first she refused to listen to 
 such munificent kindness. 
 
 " My dear madam," pleaded Mr. Ascher, " I 
 am only anticipating. Meta can't get out of her 
 heirship unless you'd have me look up a fifty- 
 ninth cousin somewhere in China. I have made, 
 and shall not unmake, my will ; and, whether she 
 like it or no, this young lady, being ' sole daugh 
 ter of my heart,' is possessor, after me, of all I 
 have. Bellevue is only a slice of my pie " 
 
 "If there were no other reason," interrupted 
 Mrs. Wallace, quickly, " I could not willingly 
 expose my darling to the temptations of such a 
 lot, my kind friend. Indeed, you can never un 
 derstand the snares we women encounter in a 
 life of luxury, or how difficult it is to keep one's 
 self unspotted from the world, when that world 
 is bowing at our feet. Nay, Mr. Ascher ! I 
 can never express my gratitude for your exceed 
 ing kindness ; but let Meta live away from the 
 dazzling allurements that would assail her, and
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 333 
 
 do not lay snares for her feet. She is better in 
 her present position. Surely, no one could be 
 happier than my sweet-voiced bird, with only the 
 plain little nest to shelter her ; but let us once 
 appear in the world that has forgotten us, and 
 who could interpose to save our innocent Meta 
 from life's temptations, its bewildering glam 
 our" 
 
 " She is in a mighty hand, dear friend," in 
 terrupted Mr. Ascher, solemnly ; " and He in 
 whom is all her trust will give her the victory 
 in the path he ordains. I admit that wealth 
 brings great responsibilities, but I deny that 
 because of this we cannot keep our lamps burn 
 ing and our hearts pure. The field is larger, the 
 opportunities of doing good almost unbounded, 
 and, if we dispense the riches God vouchsafes 
 us for the benefit of his own suffering ones, the 
 peace and blessing of labor well done comes as 
 sweet as though the widow had dropped her 
 mite into the treasury. Christian use of wealth 
 has accomplished so many of the inestimable 
 blessings of the world, that we should not shrink 
 from the stewardship if it is given us. But it is 
 useless to argue ! Let me only say that my or 
 phan school and its support, together with sun 
 dry other vagaries, if you will, have already ab 
 sorbed a goodly portion of my means, and Meta
 
 334 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 will not be cumbered with vast estates. Not 
 enough, I warrant you, my lady," turning to the 
 thoughtful face, raised so earnestly to his own 
 " not enough to give you many such meals 
 as you indulged in when my note happened to 
 be conveniently near. By the way, I hardly 
 think my orphans will be quite safe in your vi 
 cinity, Meta. Suppose you took a fancy to swal 
 low the whole set, Miss Clifton into the bar- 
 "gain?" 
 
 " Am I never to have any peace ? " pouted 
 Meta, kissing his hand, that lay with all its wrin 
 kles and sunburn on her own fair, dainty palm. 
 " Don't be afraid for your orphans ! Dear little 
 creatures ! how nice it will be to play with them 
 and show them the delights of the dear Bellevue 
 woods. I quite dote on babies ! " 
 
 "Babies in linen cambric and ruffles, war 
 ranted not to cry, possibly, though I doubt even 
 that. I am skeptical of the fact, but we will let 
 it pass. But what say you to very dirty faces, 
 and obstinate little wills to conquer, and manners 
 something entirely original and outside the civil 
 ized code ? I have picked up my poor little 
 ones in the alleys and by-ways, and we have not 
 begun the good work yet. Will you be discour 
 aged with my prottg/s, think you?" 
 
 " You know that I will not ! I believe you
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 335 
 
 are teasing me, as usual ; and I leave you the 
 field, unfought ! Only, pray reserve the baby 
 department for me." 
 
 Mr. Ascher made some jesting remark, and 
 then renewed his discussion with Mrs. Wallace, 
 succeeding, after much argument, in gaining his 
 point. 
 
 " It wouldn't do to lose my lawyer's fee," he 
 said, with mock seriousness; "so Meta must 
 take Bellevue, since I have waived all right and 
 title to the' place, and have honestly paid for the 
 deed. And now, when can we move, bag and 
 baggage?" 
 
 " It will be hard to leave the cottage," sighed 
 Mrs. Wallace, her eyes filling with tears. " Ev 
 erything that I have learned of life's earnestness 
 and blessedness has come to me here; and it is 
 hard, too, to leave my darling's grave to stran-, 
 gers. Think of careless hands and ruthless foot 
 steps at work where all is so sacred to me! " 
 
 Gently and kindly Mr. Ascher touched upon 
 the sore wound in the mother's heart, as he told 
 of the plain marble column, engraven with 
 Florry's name, which his ever-kind thoughtful- 
 ness had provided, and which only awaited the 
 removal of the young girl's remains to take its 
 place among the rest of her race, who slumbered 
 in everlasting silence near the beautiful Hudson.
 
 336 META WALLACE, OR 
 
 At this touching evidence of the old man's 
 faithful friendship, Mrs. Wallace, subdued to 
 tears, made no further resistance, but joyfully 
 and gratefully allowed him t6 have his way, list 
 ening with interest to his charitable plans for 
 the welfare of the children he had saved from 
 poverty and suffering, and thanking God from 
 her heart for the blessing left her in so good 
 and true a friend. 
 
 Before the summer was over, the threshold of 
 Bellevue was crossed, and the mother and daugh 
 ter, with their faithful Bridget, comfortably set 
 tled under the old roof-tree. 
 
 "Times is changed, my darlint," sighed the 
 old nurse, as they sat before the nursery fire, for 
 the sake of " lang syne," on the first evening of 
 their arrival, Mrs. Wallace having retired to 
 her chamber to indulge the sadness she could 
 not resist, in coming back to these familiar 
 scenes. " Times is changed," sighed Bridget, 
 " but it seems, Meta, as we've much to be thank 
 ful for, after all ! Johnny and Florry is only be 
 come treasure in heaven, like, and your mamma 
 so changed, and we safe in the old place. God 
 be praised for his mercies ! " 
 
 " Yes, it really seems that all things work to 
 gether for good, dear Bridget. Even when we
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 337 
 
 cannot see a step before us, we know that He 
 with whom there is no night is guiding us aright, 
 and only bids us trust Him for a little time. 
 When Florry was so ill, so evidently fading 
 away, and yet seemed so unconscious and 
 thoughtless of the future awaiting her, I some 
 times felt discouraged ; for it seemed the little 
 I could do was so little " 
 
 " Ay, there's our fault, Meta ! We too often 
 sneers and fights shy of the little things, think 
 ing ourselves mighty enough to do something 
 for the world to see. That's our trouble ! We 
 looks for harvest, sure, before we've worked the 
 seed ; and, if people don't turn around to praise 
 the task, we gets mighty tired of the heat and 
 rain and then the drought. We never stops to 
 think that the little seed of corn makes a great 
 stalk and a full ear if we only gives it time. So, 
 be not discouraged with the little things, dar- 
 lint ; they grow into big things by-and-by ! " 
 
 "Yes," said Meta, gazing wistfully into the 
 bright blaze on the hearthstone, which Bridget 
 had kindled "for cheer's sake;" "yes, we have 
 much to thank God for in all these years. 
 Mamma is so changed, and Florry safe in 
 heaven, and dear Mr. Ascher and Winny living 
 at our very door, and you back in the nursery. 
 Oh, dear old Bridget ! how good you've been ! "
 
 338 MET A WALLACE, OR 
 
 Here Meta, not having outgrown, yet, her 
 fondness for suffocating caresses, gave the old 
 nurse an affectionate hug. 
 
 " Even Edward seems to have changed since 
 Florry's death," she continued, musingly, when 
 Bridget had cried out for mercy ; " his last letter 
 was full of love to mamma, and he spoke so long 
 ingly of home. Mr. Ascher thinks that his 
 great success in agricultural invention will keep 
 him steady, and I feel very sure that he is think 
 ing seriously of life. Mamma was so gratified 
 when he sent Mr. Ascher what he called the 
 first-fruits of his labors for the orphan school. 
 I never should have believed that Edward could 
 take an interest in such things. Oh, I trust we 
 will yet see him a Christian." 
 
 Bridget did not reply, and the two sank into a 
 reverie which was not broken until the chiming 
 of the nursery clock reminded them that the 
 night was far spent And, truly, in Meta's fair, 
 sunny life, " the morning was at hand." 
 
 We leaye her striving to run with patience the 
 race set before her, looking unto Christ. If her 
 example shall have encouraged one youthful 
 heart to do and to bear little things, believing 
 that in God's own time they grow in stature and 
 in strength, bringing a mighty harvest from the 
 tiny seed, we shall not have written in vain. If
 
 THE SEEN AND UNSEEN. 339 
 
 it seems hard, when " the outward man perish," 
 to trust the mercy by which " the inward man 
 is renewed day by day," let us not be faithless 
 but believing, crying to our faint hearts and 
 shrinking spirits : " Why art thou cast down, oh 
 my soul ? and why art thou disquieted within 
 me?" 
 
 " Hope thou in God ! ior I will yet praise Him, 
 who is the health of my countenance and my 
 God."
 

 
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