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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 CALIFORNIA STATE LIBRARY 
 
 of any member or officer of the Legislature, or of this 
 Stale, for his per diem, allowance, or salary, he shall be 
 satisfied that such member or officer has returned all 
 bonks taken out of the Library by him, and has settled 
 all accounts for injuring such books or otherwise. 
 
 ;:>. Hooks may be taken from the Library by the J 
 
 the Legislature and its officers during the 
 
 e same, and at any time by the Governor and 
 
 rsof the Kxecnlive Department of this State, 
 
 required to keep their offices at the seat of 
 
 ^overnmeiit. Hie.JuMices of t.he Supreme Court, the At- 
 
 . I and the Trustees of the Library. 
 __ : ;
 
 iff ! 


 
 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS; 
 
 No. 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, 
 
 Have just issued an entire new, complete, and uniform edi 
 tion of all the celebrated Novels, (which have been out of print 
 for years,) written by the late 
 
 MRS. CAROLIKE LEE HENTZ. 
 
 The whole of the novels and stories of Mrs. CAROLINE LEE 
 HENTZ are issued complete in twelve large duodecimo vol 
 umes. They are printed on the finest paper, and bound in tho 
 most beautiful style, in fine Morocco cloth, with a new, full 
 gilt back, uniform with this volume, and sold at the low price 
 of $1.75 each, in Morocco cloth ; or in paper cover, at $1.50 each ; 
 or a complete set of the twelve volumes, in Morocco cloth, will 
 be sent to any one, to any place, free of postage, on receipt of, 
 Twenty Dollars, by the publishers. 
 
 The Novels of Mrs. CAROLINE LEE HENTZ will be found, on pe 
 rusal by all, to be the most exciting and popular works that 
 _have ever emanated from the American press. They are written 
 in a charming style, and will elicit through all a thrill of deep 
 and exquisite pleasure. They are works which the oldest and 
 the youngest may alike read with pleasure and profit. They 
 abound with the most beautiful scenic descriptions, and display 
 an intimate acquaintance with all phases of human character 
 all the characters being exceedingly well drawn. They are de 
 lightful books, full of incident, oftentimes bold and startling, 
 and they describe the warm feelings of the Southerner in glow 
 ing colors. Indeed, all of Mrs. Hentz's stories aptly describe 
 Southern life, and are highly moral in their application. lu 
 this field Mrs. Hentz wields a keen sickle, and harvests a rich 
 and abundant crop. They will be found, in plot, incident, and 
 management, to be superior to any other novels ever issued. 
 In the whole range of elegant moral fiction, there cannot be 
 found anything of more inestimable value, or superior to the 
 charming works of Mrs. Caroline Lee Hentz, and they are all 
 gems that will well repay a careful perusal. The Publishers 
 feel assured that this series of Nove^, by Mrs. Caroline Lee 
 Heiitz, ^ill give entire satisfaction to the whole reading com 
 munity ; that they will encourage good taste and good morals, 
 and while away many leisure hours with great . pleasure and 
 
 (1)
 
 2 WRITINGS OF MBS. CAROLINE LEE HENTZ. 
 
 profit, and that they will also be recommended to others by 
 all that peruse them. 
 
 The following are the names of the twelve volumes : 
 LINDA; OR, THE YOUNG PILOT OF THE BELLE CREOLE. 
 
 "Linda," contains a full and complete Biography of the 
 late Mrs. GASOLINE LEE HENTZ, which has never before been 
 published. 
 
 ROBERT GRAHAM. A Sequel to " Linda ; or, The Young Pilot 
 of the Belle Creole." 
 
 RENA; or, THE SNOW BIRD. A Tale of Real Life. 
 MARCUS WARLAND ; or, The Long Moss Spring. 
 ERNEST LINWOOD ; or, The Inner Life of the Author. 
 EOLINE ; or, MAGNOLIA VALE ; or, The Heiress of Glenmore. 
 
 THE PLANTER'S NORTHERN BRIDE; or, Scenes in Mrs. Hentz's 
 Childhood. 
 
 HELEN AND ARTHUR; or, Miss Thusa's Spinning- Wheel. 
 
 COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE; or, The Joys and Sorrows of 
 American Life. 
 
 LOVE AFTER MARRIAGE; and other Stories of the Heart. 
 THE LOST DAUGHTER ; and other Stories of the Heart. 
 THE BANISHED SON ; and other Stories of the Heart. 
 
 The above twelve books have proved to be the most popular 
 series of Novels ever issued in this country, as they are written 
 by one of the most popular Female Novelists that ever lived. 
 
 Each of the above twelve books are complete in one volume, 
 duodecimo, bound in Green Morocco Cloth, with a new, full gilt 
 back, price $1.75 each ; or in paper cover, price $1.50 each. 
 
 Address all orders, at once, to receive immediate and prompt 
 attention, for all or any of the above books, to 
 
 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 
 
 Publishers No. 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa, 
 1^01" Above Books are for sale by all Booksellers, or copies of any or 
 all of them will be sent post-paid to any one, to any place, on receipt of 
 their price by the publishers.
 
 EOLINE; or, MAGNOLIA VALE; 
 
 OB, 
 
 THE HEIRESS OF GLEMORE, 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. CAROLINE LEE HEFTZ. ** 
 
 AUTHOR OF " LINDA ; OR, THE YOUNG PILOT OF THE BELLE CREOLE," " THE BANISHED SON," 
 " COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE ; OR, THE JOTS AND SORROWS OF AMERICAN LIFE," 
 
 " THE PLANTER'S NORTHERN BRIDE ; OR, SCENES is MRS. HENTZ'S CHILDHOOD," 
 
 "LOVE AFTER MARRIAGE," " MARCUS WARLAND ; OR, THE LONG MOSS SPRING," 
 
 " ERNEST LINWOOD ; OR, THE INNEB LIFE OF THE AUTHOR," 
 
 "HELEN AND ARTHUR; OR, MISS THUSA'S SPINNING-WHEEL," 
 
 " RENA ; OR, THE SNOW BIRD," " THE LOST DAUGHTER," 
 
 " ROBERT GRAHAM j" A SEQUEL TO " LINDA," ETC. 
 
 1 Hor fair locks waved in snnny play 
 
 By a clear fountain's side, 
 Where je -el-color'd pebbles lay 
 
 Beneath the flowing tide. 
 And if my heart had deem'd him fair, 
 
 When in the fountain glade, 
 A creature of the sky and air, 
 
 Almost on wings he play'd; 
 Oh ! how much holier beauty now 
 Lit that young human being's brow !" HEKANS. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS; 
 306 CHESTNUT STREET.
 
 6 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 , 
 
 ** And now," said she, seating herself af the pian>, ar- 1 
 running over the keys with sparkling fingers, " now for 
 your evening serenade, father." - 
 
 She began to warble with the sweetness and volubility 
 of the mocking bird. 
 
 " That is a new song I have just learned. Is it not 
 charming 1" 
 
 " I am not in a musical vein to-night, Eoline." 
 
 " Are you not 1 I am sorry, for I feel most particularly 
 melodious. I am sorry, too, my harp is unstrung that 
 might please you better! (No.) Would you like the guitarl 
 (No, again.) Well I will not plague you with music. But 
 let me tell you the compliment that Mr. Leslie, the Euro 
 pean traveller, paid me last evening. He said he wished 
 I were the daughter of a poor man, so that I might be 
 compelled to give my voice to the world ; that nature never 
 bestowed such a treasure for the benefit of the domestic 
 and social circles alone. Think of that, father a prima 
 donna ! Would it not be magnificent 1 Well, if your 
 riches should take to themselves wings and fly away, I will 
 turn my breath into gold for you and me." 
 
 " There is not much danger of your being reduced to 
 such an alternative," said Mr. Glenmore, "especially at 
 the present moment." 
 
 " You don't feel musical to-night. Let me read to you ; 
 i have a very interesting book here, whose leaves I have 
 just cut open." 
 
 Rising from the revolving-stool, on which she had been 
 making semi-circumvolutions, she opened a mahogany cabi 
 net, inlaid with ivory, and took down a book, evidently 
 fresh from the press. 
 
 " Oh ! how I love the fragrance of a new book !" she 
 cried, unfolding it and burying her face within the leaves. 
 *' It is as sweet as a new-blown rose." 
 
 "Put up the book," said Mr. Glenmore, crossing his arms
 
 EOLINEJ OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 7 
 
 majestically over his breast, and uttering an imposing hem. 
 1 am not in a literary humor." 
 
 "Indeed! then I will get the chess-board !" 
 
 " No, I am not in a mood for chess, either." 
 
 " A game of backgammon, perhaps," continued the 
 persevering Eoline, who seemed anxious to entertain her 
 father in any other way than conversation. There waa 
 something restless and excited about her, which she en 
 deavored to conceal under an aspect of gay good humor. 
 
 "I am sorry I cannot amuse you sir," said she. "If 
 you please, I will take my book and sit quietly and de 
 murely in the corner, like a good little girl, without 
 disturbing your meditations." 
 
 " You are not so very little, Eoline quite a full grown, 
 marriageable young lady." 
 
 " Don't call me marriageable, father ; I cannot bear that 
 expression and whatever I may be to others, let me be 
 still a little girl to you." 
 
 Seating herself on the curving elbow of the sofa, she put 
 one arm caressingly round his neck, and laid her cheek 
 against his hair. 
 
 " Come, Eoline," said he, gravely kissing her, then taking 
 her hand and seating her on the sofa by his side " this is 
 dl very sweet and very pretty, but just now I want you 
 to be serious, and give your undivided attention to what i 
 nave to say. I have had a long interview with Mr. Cleve 
 land." 
 
 Eoline started, but said nothing 
 
 " He thinks with me, that there is no use in delay. Time 
 can make no difference in our intentions." 
 
 " Neither can it in mine," answered Eoline, with a low 
 voice and heightened color. 
 
 "I know of no intentions a young lady can have 
 in opposition to a parent's will," said Mr. Glenmore, with
 
 8 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 great emphasis. "At least, I do not admit the possibility 
 of their existence." 
 
 " They may, however, have as deep a life as if the ad 
 mission were made," replied the daughter. 
 
 " I am not about to engage in a useless discussion," said 
 Mr. Glenmore, uttering his words coldly and deliberately, 
 giving each their due weight and accent j " my own mind 
 is made up, and nothing can change its decision. When 
 Horace was a little boy, and you a passive infant in your 
 mother's arms, it was made up. When he was a youth 
 in college, and you a child at schpol, it was confirmed. 
 And now he is a young man, returned from abroad with a 
 completed education and established character, and you in 
 the bloom of young womanhood, it is fixed immutable as 
 the decree of destiny. Mr. Cleveland has no more idea 
 of change than I have. Horace has consented to obey his 
 father, and I expect and require the same obedience from 
 my own child." 
 
 "Consented to obey!" repeated Eoline, her cheeks 
 burning with crimson "consented to obey! And you 
 would force your daughter on the acceptance of a young 
 man who cares not for her who even looks upon her with 
 repugnance whose consent to such an union is considered 
 a noble sacrifice to filial obedience ! Father ! if you have 
 so little family pride and dignity, so little regard for my 
 delicacy and sensibility, I at least know what is due to my 
 own character. I never will be a party in such a transac 
 tion." 
 
 " Eoline, have you done." 
 
 " No sir nor will I ever cease, till you think as I think, 
 till you feel as I feel. I pray I may not forget what is due 
 to my father but I must remember that I am a woman 
 a very young one, it is true, but no less sensitive on that 
 account. Horace Cleveland loves me not. To me, he is 
 ever cold, distant, reserved, and haughty. There is an
 
 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 9 
 
 expression in his eye, that makes me shrink into myself, 
 whenever I meet him I fear him. He dislikes me. There 
 is a mutual repulsion, that never will be overcome. Obe 
 dience in such a case, instead of being a virtue is a sin. 
 "Tis sacrilege and God will judge it so." 
 
 "Enough, enough!" interrupted Mr. Glenmore, im 
 patiently ; " I did not know that you could talk so finely. 
 You are really quite an orator; but I tell you, Eoline, it 
 is all stuff and nonsense. Horace Cleveland is a young 
 man of fine principles, splendid talents, the heir of a large 
 fortune, and the son of my earliest friend. There is not a 
 more desirable match in the country. He is willing to 
 marry you and this is a sufficient proof of his love. He is 
 no dandy or fop, no petty lady's man, I know ; but h is 
 made of better, sterner materials. If you expect the fool 
 eries and raptures of which you read in novels, you may 
 be disappointed, and deserve to be so. As for his being 
 cold and haughty, you have made him so, by your own 
 pride and reserve. It is you that freeze him into an iceberg, 
 and then complain of his coldness." 
 
 " I do not complain," said Eoline, in a tone of the deep 
 est dejection ; " I care not for him or his coldness. I 
 grieve to think that you are so anxious to rid yourself of 
 me, as if I were a burden to your care. Ever since my 
 mother's death," continued she tears forcing themselves 
 into her eyes, and glittering on their fringes, " I have tried 
 to make your happiness my first care. I have never known 
 a wish of yours that I have not endeavored to fulfill. Oh, 
 my dear father, I know you do love me ; I know you must 
 want to make me happy. Let me he so," she cried, im 
 pulsively throwing her arms around him, and kneeling on 
 the footstool in a most supplicating attitude, " let me re 
 main with you, just as I am, and require not of me the only 
 act of filial obedience, I would not gladly, unhesitatingly 
 perform."
 
 10 EOLINE J OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 Mr. Glenmore seemed agitated, and struggled to free 
 himself from the soft arms that imprisoned him. 
 
 " You are right," said he, " I do love you I do wish 
 your happiness j and I know better than yourself, how to 
 secure it. You will thank me, one day, for the authority 
 I now exert. Eoline, you must obey me in this. You 
 must marry Horace Cleveland." 
 
 His voice assumed a tone of stern determination. " I 
 have said it," he added, "more than once and did you 
 ever know me declare positively that a thing should be, 
 that I did not bring it to pass 1 Did you ever 1 Look me 
 in the face, Eoline, and tell me." 
 
 Eoline rose up, and shading back her hair with one hand, 
 looked him for a moment steadily in the face. There was 
 something in the expression of her now pale and resolute 
 countenance, that made him involuntarily rise also. The 
 dark shade of anger hung heavy on his brow. 
 
 " Well, young lady, do you see any symptom of weakness 
 or change 1" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then policy, if not duty, must teach you submission." 
 
 " Father, I cannot marry Horace Cleveland !" 
 
 " Do you dare to tell me this, when it is my absolute 
 will that you should 1 ?" 
 
 " I dare, when your will is contrary to a higher will." 
 
 Mr. Glenmore was a man who never could endure the 
 slightest contradiction, even in matters of the most trivial 
 import. He knew of no sovereign more absolute than his 
 own will, no rule of right or wrong but what he himself 
 established. What he had once said, must be, because he 
 had said it. That Eoline, so gentle, and yielding in all 
 minor things, so child-like and affectionate in her daily 
 demeanor, so attentive to all the sweet courtesies of life, 
 so anxious to please him in the minutest particular, so fear 
 ful of offending and inflicting pain, should now undauntealy
 
 EOLINE J OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. . 1 1 
 
 brave his authority, resist his will, and thwart the favorite 
 plan he had been maturing from her infancy he could 
 not, would not believe. Yet there she stood before him, 
 pale, calm, and self-possessed, with "cannot" on her lips, 
 and " will not" in her clear, blue eye. 
 
 He actually trembled with passion. His under lip 
 quivered like an aspen-leaf. The stamps of the horse-shoe 
 grew deeper and deeper between his eyes. 
 
 "Mark my words," said he, in a husky voice, "if you 
 persist in this rebellion, I will no longer consider you as 
 my daughter. I will no longer be responsible for your 
 support. The independence in which you glory, shall be 
 your only inheritance. I will neither share my home, nor 
 my fortune, with an ingrate who mocks at my authority, 
 and resists my will. This is the alternative choose this 
 moment. On one side, wealth, talents, influence, friends, 
 and favor on the other, poverty, disgrace, and banish 
 'ment." 
 
 " My choice is made, then," was the low, but distinct 
 reply. " Be it poverty and banishment it cannot be dis 
 grace." 
 
 "Insufferable insolent," exclaimed Mr. Glenmore, push 
 ing back the sofa, till it rolled half across the room, and 
 sweeping down the whole length of the apartment so rapid 
 ly, that his gray, silk robe seemed to shiver as he walked, 
 " 1 never saw such a girl in my life. She is enough to 
 drive one mad." 
 
 After working off in this way some of the superfluity of 
 I/is passion, he suddenly stopped, and measuring her de 
 liberately from head to foot, added: 
 
 " I should like you to tell me, Miss Eoline Glenmore, 
 what you intend to do, when you launch out into the 
 world a prima donna, perhaps. That will be admirable. 
 I dare say you will find some itinerant Italian tc take 
 charge of you, and give eclat to your debut 1"
 
 2 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 u Father, this is unworthy of you," said the young girl, 
 with a dignity and spirit that gave fire to her eye, and 
 elevation to her tone. " "Tis an unmanly blow, and the 
 hand that strikes it ought to burn with shame." Pausing, 
 and trying to hold down her wounded and indignant feel 
 ings, she added with less warmth, but equal dignity, " with 
 the education you have given me, and which you cannot 
 withdraw, I shall have ample means of support. You will 
 give me time to seek another home. You will not have it 
 said that you turned your daughter from your own door 
 before another was opened to receive herT' 
 
 "I give you one month for reflection," said the father, 
 in a calm tone, after a long pause, for though unmoved in 
 his determination, he began to be ashamed of the violence 
 he had Strayed. " Horace left home this morning to be 
 absent that space of time. After giving you this long day 
 of grace, if you persist in your obstinacy, on your own 
 head be the consequences of your disobedience. I have 
 done my duty as a father. I have spared no expense on 
 your education. I have allowed you every luxury and 
 indulgence, and made you the envy of your young compa 
 nions. Every one knows that I have been an indulgent 
 parent. Every one knows the character of Horace Cleve 
 land. The world may judge between us. My conscience 
 is clear. The shame and obloquy, whatever they be, will 
 rest on you." 
 
 "But to be forced on a cold and reluctant bridegroom !" 
 exclaimed Eoline, suddenly losing all her self-control, and 
 bursting into a wild passion of tears " to feel indiffer 
 ence and to fear hatred oh my dear father you do not 
 know what it is. It would kill me. Such a life would 
 dry up my heart's blood. Have pity on me and give me 
 back your love. Let me stay with you, and be to vou 
 all and ten thousand times more than I ever yet have 
 been."
 
 EOLINE J OR, BUfiNOLIA VALE, 13 
 
 "Every thing depends on yourself, Eoline. You have 
 a month of probation. Improve it well, for, remember, 
 at its close, the door will be shut. You had better re- 
 tire now, some one might enter and wonder at your 
 agitation." 
 
 Eoline, still sobbing, took two or three steps towards the 
 door, then lingered and returned. 
 
 "Will you not let me kiss you, father!" said she, 
 gently. " I cannot sleep without your good-night bless- 
 ing." 
 
 " Strange, incomprehensible girl that you are !" cried 
 the more strange and incomprehensible father, kissing her 
 moist cheek. 
 
 " Promise me one thing," she said. " Let us not speak 
 of this subject till the month is past. Let every thing be 
 as it has been before." 
 
 " Very well. I have no objection to such a compact. 
 It is best upon the whole." 
 
 And the father and the daughter separated for the 
 night. 
 
 The Cleveland and Glenmore estates were not only 
 adjacent, but bore such an exact similitude to each other, 
 that they seemed a twin-born pair. Nature had spread 
 out two magnificent plains, side by side, and divided them 
 by a .line of forest trees so regularly, that the boundary 
 seemed drawn by the hand of art. These rich plains 
 sloped towards the rising sun, and its setting rays dyed 
 with rosy gold the waters of a noble creek that flowed at 
 an equal distance in the rear of the dwellings. From the 
 centre of twin groves of oak, each stately tree the coun 
 terpart of the other, rose two granite houses, of the same 
 imposing architecture. Massy rows of columns formed a 
 colonnade to three sides of the mansions, which being ele 
 vated from the earth, were approached by a long flight of 
 marble steps. The gardens and green houses were on the
 
 I4f EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 game model ; and as Dromio, in the play, could see by nis 
 twin-brother that he was a " sweet faced youth," so Mr 
 Glenmore could behold his own magnificence reflected in 
 that of his friend, and Mr. Cleveland could admire hiu 
 own taste in the beautiful grounds of his neighbor. Thus 
 their mutual pride and vain glory were fed. They were 
 equally wealthy, equally prosperous, so they had no occa 
 sion to envy each other. When they purchased the two 
 lots so exactly corresponding to each other, they agreed to 
 put up habitations, neither more nor less grand, whose 
 beauty should be the admiration of the surrounding coun 
 try. Even before the birth of their children they decided 
 upon the union which was to continue the fellowship of 
 interests through other generations. Unfortunately their 
 eldest children were both boys. It was not till the birth 
 of his third child, the Eoline of our story, that Mr. Glen- 
 more saw a prospect of their mutual wishes being realized. 
 Horace was then between five and six years old, and when 
 carried by his father to see his little wife, he very ungal- 
 lantly declared that "he did not want a little wife, and he 
 wouldn't have her." Fortunately Eoline was not con 
 scious of this slight to her infantine charms, and it did not 
 disturb the happiness of her baby heart. But the boy, 
 often forced into unwilling juxtaposition with the little 
 "lady, sometimes compelled to sit on the carpet, with his 
 legs stretched out in a horizontal position, and hold his 
 miniature bride in his arms ; at others, which was a still 
 more awful infliction, condemned to the tortures of being 
 dressed in juvenile finery, and carried abroad with his baby 
 betrothal, to elicit the admiration of the whole neighbor 
 hood ; learned to associate the idea of compulsion, re 
 straint and weariness of sport with the innocent Eoline. 
 As they grew older, and met as school-children, in their 
 holiday amusements, he was constantly reminded that he 
 must take care of Eoline if they walked, he was to be
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 15 
 
 her companion if they danced, her partner. When he 
 was in college, and she at a boarding school, and they 
 again met in their vacations under their parents' roof, the 
 sensitive and reserved youth avoided more and more the 
 bright and beautiful girl, who laughed at his awkwardness, 
 which formed indeed a striking contrast to her own re 
 markable grace. And when, after years of study and 
 travel, he returned a deeply read and accomplished scholar, 
 to his country and home, and found Eoline presiding with 
 youthful dignity over her widowed father's household, his 
 manners, though no longer awkward, were to her singu 
 larly cold and distant. The associations of his childhood, 
 the coercion, the discipline in the graces he had endured 
 on her account, were fresh in his recollection, and neu 
 tralized the effect of her blooming attractions. Eoline, 
 already accustomed to spontaneous admiration, and begin 
 ning to feel it a natural consequence of her presence, was 
 chilled by his indifference and stung by his avoidance 
 During his absence, she had heard so much of his splendid 
 talents, his extraordinary acquirements and improvement 
 in all exterior accomplishments, that she was prepared to 
 welcome him with the modest warmth peculiar to her 
 character. She forgot the strange, shy, and ofttimes rude 
 boy. Her imagination pictured the intellectual, cultivated 
 and polished young man. She looked forward with inter 
 est and anxiety to a re-union on which so much depended, 
 wishing most earnej^Jy that duty and inclination might go 
 hand in hand. 1 * It is no wonder that her feelings recoiled 
 upon herself, repelled by his cold reserve and studied in 
 difference. The gay, frank, and genial manners froze in 
 his presence, like a sparkling fountain congealed by a sud 
 den frost. Become as cold as himself, they created around 
 each other an icy atmosphere in which no flower of feeling 
 could bloom, no fragrance of sensibility be diffused. The 
 parents, disappointed and vexed at a state of things so con'
 
 16 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 trary to their wishes, resolved to hasten the marriage m 
 spite of these inauspicious omens. The result of their 
 conference has been seen in the conversation between 
 Eoline and her father but he withheld from her one clause 
 of the consent of Horace. It was on the condition that 
 Eoline herself desired the union, that he promised his own 
 obedience. Acceptance or rejection was left in her hands. 
 That her high spirit and warm heart should refuse their 
 sanction to parental authority exerted for the consummation 
 of this unnatural scheme that her pride and delicacy, 
 and self-respect should shrink with horror from their com 
 manded sacrifice, can exite no wonder. But when a young 
 girl, nurtured in the bosom of affluence and luxury, prefers 
 the alternative of poverty, banishment, and self-support, to 
 the immolation of her principles and her feelings, she ex 
 alts herself into a heroine, and as such her history is worthy 
 to be recorded. 
 
 The month of probation was rapidly passing away. 
 Eoline devoted herself, as usual, to her father's comfort 
 and happiness. If possible, she was more assiduous, more 
 solicitous to anticipate his slightest want. There were 
 certain duties which she considered sacred, and which she 
 would never allow a servant to perform ; such as bringing 
 him his evening wrapper, his slippers, which her own hand 
 had embroidered, and arranging the lights and curtains, so 
 as to produce that mellow illumination so pleasing to the 
 eye. She wanted to make herself necessary to his happi 
 ness, to fill up with sweet and loving cares the void in his 
 household and the loneliness of his heart, so that he might 
 not bring a stranger under their roof, to occupy the place 
 made vacant by Death. Her two elder brothers had died 
 in infancy, but she had one younger than herself by eleven 
 years, a beautiful boy of about six years old, to whom she 
 bore the charming relation of young mother-sister. An 
 Excellent lady by the name of Howe, was the nominal
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 17 
 
 nurse as well as housekeeper at Glenmore, but Eoline made 
 the first office a sinecure as soon as she quitted school. 
 For two years he had been her pupil, brother, child. Love 
 ly as a little Cupid, caressing, yet spirited and intelligent 
 beyond his age, Willie was the pet and darling of the 
 household, and the especial idol of Eoline. She always 
 went into the nursery at his bed-time, told him some child 
 ish story, listened to his bright little sayings, and heard his 
 innocent prayers. 
 
 One night, it was exactly at the end of the month, she 
 made her accustomed visit. Willie, the moment she 
 opened the door, sprang up, caught her round the neck, 
 afid almost smothered her with kisses. He had been sitting 
 by the fire, till his cheeks were as glowing as roses. His 
 soft auburn hair fell curling to the edge of his white night 
 dress, and his eyes sparkled like star-lit dew-drops. Eoline, 
 still holding him in her arms, sat down on a low seat near 
 the hearth, and bent her face down on the plump, white 
 shoulder, that peeped above the collar of his robe. 
 
 "What's the matter, sister Elal" said the boy, nestling 
 closer to her, " you are making it rain on my neck." 
 
 "Never mind, Willie," cried she, trying to command 
 her voice, "it will soon be sunshine!" 
 
 " But what for makes you cry, Elal" persisted the child, 
 feeling the warm drops falling thicker and faster on his 
 cheek and neck j " if anybody's hurt you," continued he, in 
 a louder tone, and clinching his fist bravely in her face, 
 I'll fight them like a lion!" 
 
 " No Willie, it is not that," answered Eoline, wiping 
 the moisture from his soft skin with her handkerchief, and 
 then drying it still more with her kisses, " perhaps I shall 
 have to take a journey, and be gone a long time and it 
 makes me very sad to think of leaving you behind." 
 
 "You shan't leave me behind!" exclaimed the boy, 
 jumping from her lap, and assuming a resolute attitude, 
 71
 
 18 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " if you go, I'll go, too. I don't care how far off it is. If 
 it is way off to Nova Zembla I'll keep tight hold of you, 
 all the time. But where are you going, sister, and bow 
 long are you going to stay 1 and what for are you going 
 at alii" 
 
 " I cannot answer all these questions at once, dear Wil 
 lie, nor indeed any of them to-night. If I do go, you 
 shall know all about it." 
 
 " To be sure I shall," cried Willie, positively, " for I 
 shall go too." 
 
 And with the quick, changing feelings of childhood, he 
 laughed triumphantly at the thought. 
 
 " Oh, that I could take you with me, my own darling 
 Willie," cried she, with a burst of emotion she could not 
 repress, and clasping him tightly to her bosom. " But fa 
 ther will not consent, and you must promise to be a good 
 boy while I am gone, and love me as you now do even if 
 even if " 
 
 Once more her face was buried on his neck, and he felt 
 the rain-drops on its snow. Mrs. Howe, who was sitting 
 on the opposite side of the room, busy with her needle, 
 now lifted her kind, serious countenance, and gazed with 
 sympathizing tenderness on the young mother-sister, thus 
 bitterly weeping over the distressed and wondering boy. 
 
 There was another pair of big black eyes fixed upon her 
 face, watching her every movement. Gatty, a negro girl, 
 her own waiting-maid, who was sitting on the carpet by 
 the side of Willie's bed, had observed, with affectionate 
 interest and increasing curiosity, the thoughtful, abstracted 
 and ofttimes sad mood of her young mistress for weeks 
 past. She dared not question her, for Eoline, though kind 
 and gentle, nad never indulged in familiarity with her 
 servants. 
 
 " I hope, Miss Eoline," said Mrs. Howe, " that nothing
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 19 
 
 has happened to make you unhappy, and I trust that you 
 are not going to leave us long." 
 
 " I cannot tell how long, Mrs. Howe ! God only knows. 
 But, for ray sake, watch over this dear boy, and keep him 
 if possible from evil. I would not have him associate 
 with rufle companions, and lose all his sweet and gentle 
 though brave and boyish ways, for ten thousand worlds. 
 And one thing, my dear Mrs. Howe, never let him forget 
 the prayers I have taught him. Yes, Willie, never, never 
 close your eyes in sleep, without kneeling by your bedside 
 and repeating to your God the prayers you have learned 
 at your sister's knees." 
 
 Willie, who was awed by the sad and solemn tone of 
 his sister, so different from her usual joyous accents, and 
 who already felt the downy weight of slumber on his eye 
 lids, whispered 
 
 "Let me say them now, Ela." 
 
 Sinking on his knees, and folding his fair hands on her 
 lap, Willie lifted his beautiful auburn eyes, in which the 
 tears were still shining, and commencing with the simple, 
 yet sublime adjuration 
 
 " Our Father who art in heaven," went through the 
 divine ritual of prayer, prescribed by our Saviour, with 
 such devotional earnestness, that as the words issued from 
 his cherub lips " surely, surely," thought Eoline, " ' Of 
 such is the Kingdom of Heaven.' " 
 
 Leading him to his little couch, and covering him up 
 for his night's slumber, she lingered, as if unwilling to 
 leave him. Overcome with sleepiness, he half opened hi 
 heavy eyelids, and murmured 
 
 "You won't go to-night, sister Elal" 
 
 " No not to-night, my darling. Good-night the holy 
 angels guard you." 
 
 Then softly kissing him, she stole away from the bed, 
 and approaching the fire, stood with her head leaning
 
 20 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 against the mantel-piece, lost in deep abstraction. She 
 was startled by the voice of Mrs. Howe. 
 
 " I fear you are not well, Miss Eoline ; can I do any 
 thing for you 1" 
 
 " No oh, no, I thank you ; nothing can be done. To 
 morrow, Mrs. Howe, everything will be decided, and 1 
 will tell you all. I did not think I was so weak. My fa 
 ther must not see me in tears." 
 
 She bathed her face with water, brushed and arranged 
 her hair, which Willie had loosened by his impassioned 
 caresses, and smoothed the lace his hands had ruffled. 
 
 "There, Mrs. Howe, will that do 1 ?" she asked, trying to 
 smile. " Father never likes to see a fold out of place, or 
 a ringlet disordered." 
 
 " You look very nice and sweet, as you always do," re 
 plied she, with a deep sigh. She could not help sighing, 
 for she saw there was something heavy on the heart of 
 Eoline ; and if it should involve her departure from home, 
 it would press very heavily on her own. 
 
 Eoline descended with slow steps into the sitting-room, 
 where her father sat, in his robe of silver gray, in front of 
 the glowing hearth. He did not raise his head at her en 
 trance, nor when she came and stood by the table, where 
 the lamp, with its soft green shade, resembled the moon, 
 glimmering through, or beneath a leafy canopy. 
 
 " Father," at length she said, in a low voice, " the month 
 of my probation is expired." 
 
 He raised his head, and their eyes met. They looked 
 at each other a moment, without speaking, reading steadilv 
 in that fixed gaze, the inflexible purpose of each other's 
 soul. Her color changed, her limbs trembled, but still 
 her eye quailed not before the severe and iron glance of his. 
 
 "Well, what is your decision 1" said Mr. Glenmore. 
 " You have had time enough given to recover your senses, 
 and I trust you have profited by it."
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 21 
 
 " I did not ask for time, father, it could make no change 
 in me." 
 
 " Nor in me, either, by Heaven T' exclaimed Mr. Glen- 
 more, striking the arm of the sofa venemently, with his 
 closed hand. " Nor in me, either, as you will find to your 
 ost." 
 
 " I have counted the cost," she replied, gathering cou 
 rage and self-possession from his violence ana severity. 
 " I am willing to abide it. I know not what trials may 
 be before -me, but I can imagine nothing so dreadful as 
 the loveless union you would force upon me. I have writ 
 ten to my friends, and secured through their influence, a 
 respectable situation !" 
 
 " Respectable situation !" interrupted Mr. Glenmore, 
 to hear my daughter talking of having secured a respect 
 able situation ! Never use such a phrase in my presence 
 again !" 
 
 " A comfortable home, then, sir, if the expression offend 
 you less." 
 
 "A comfortable Lunatic Asylum, you had better say," 
 cried the father, walking about the room, and wiping his 
 forehead elaborately with his handkerchief. " Really, the 
 only thing I ought to do with you, is to put you in a 
 straight-jacket, and feed you on bread and water. Re 
 spectable situation ! comfortable home ! That I, Kingsly 
 Glenmore, should live to hear a daughter of mine demean 
 herself in this manner." 
 
 " When my father refuses me his protection and sup 
 port," said Eoline, her lips curling with an expression she 
 tried in vain to subdue, " what better can his daughter do 1 
 I should like to have you tell me, sir 1" 
 
 " Obstinate fool!" muttered he. "Maniac, Idiot!" 
 
 " Permit me to tell you, sir, of my future destination," 
 said Eoline, maintaining her calm demeanor. " 1 nave 
 obtained the office of music teacher, since the word situa
 
 22 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 tion displeases you, in Miss Manly's Classical Seminary 
 for Young Ladies, at Magnolia Vale, in Montebello. I trust 
 you will allow me to take my harp and guitar, as they 
 were both presents from my uncle, and they will be essen 
 tials of my new existence." 
 
 " Yes, take them, take them, and every thing that, belongs 
 to you," cried he passionately " I want nothing left to 
 remind me of my disgrace." 
 
 Eoline heaved a deep sigh, and going towards her harp, 
 she began to draw the green covering over its gilded frame 
 and glittering wires. As she thus stood, with her head 
 slightly averted, and her arms raised in an unconsciously 
 graceful position, her father checked his angry steps and 
 gazed upon her with feelings of involuntary respect and 
 admiration, mingled with his wrath. 
 
 No one that looked upon the fair, sweet face, and girl 
 ish form of Eoline, would dream of the brave, undaunted 
 spirit, the firm self-reliance, and moral courage that formed 
 the deep under stratum of her character. Her gentleness, 
 modesty and sensibility were visible in her countenance 
 and audible in the tones of a voice, which, whether in 
 speaking or singing, discoursed the sweetest music. Her 
 complexion had the fairness of the magnolia blended with 
 the blush of the rose. Her hair, of a pale golden brown, 
 reminded one of the ripples of a sunlit lake by its soft 
 waves, giving beautiful alternations of light and shade, aa 
 it flowed back from her face into the silver comb that con 
 fined its luxuriance. So naturally and gracefully was it 
 arranged, that it seemed as if the bright tresses meeting 
 with an impediment in their wild sport, formed themselves 
 into an eddy round the ornament that restrained them. 
 Her eyes, blue, soft and intense as the noonday sky in 
 June, had a kind of beseeching loving expression, an ex 
 pression that appealed for sympathy, protection, love, 
 and her mouth had that winning contour, which suggests
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 23 
 
 the idea of a slumbering smile. Such was Eoline in repose, 
 a lair, delicate, and lovely young girl, in appearance the 
 tender and blue-eyed daughter of Dunthalmo, whose blush 
 ing face was turned from the sons of Morven ; but in heart 
 and spirit she was the fair-haired maid of Inis-huna, who, 
 when the chiefs of Selma slept, went forth alone into the 
 midnight, to warn the hero of the danger of Erin, and to 
 urge him to deeds of renown. In moments of excitement 
 she was transformed ; heart and soul came up from their 
 tranquil depths and illumined and dignified every feature. 
 
 Mr. Glenmore stood gazing upon her, as calmly and 
 quietly she drew the yielding woolen over the sweeping 
 curve of the instrument, whose chords gave a faint vibration 
 under her touch. 
 
 "And shall this splendid young creature," thought he 
 pride and affection struggling with despotism in his bosom 
 " shall she be made a musical drudge, a hireling, a slave, 
 perhaps, while I am rolling in affluence 1 What will the 
 world say 1 What will Horace Cleveland say 1" As tha 
 name came back to his recollection, his wrath rekindled 
 " It is her own fault. She is a fool, and deserves to suffer, 
 and she shall suffer. It is for her to bend, not me. I have 
 never broken my word, and I never will. I have said she 
 shall marry Horace Cleveland, and she shall marry him, or 
 be henceforth no daughter of mine. What if the world 
 does talkl I care not. I have not driven her from me 
 it is she who plunges herself into banishment and degrada 
 tion." 
 
 At the conclusion of these reflections he seated himself 
 on the sofa, and folded his arms coldly on his breast. 
 Looking steadfastly into the fire, he appeared to'take no no 
 tice of the movements of his daughter, who also clothed her 
 guitar in its comfortable travelling apparel, and placed it 
 by the side of her harp. Then she came and stood at his 
 aide.
 
 24- EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " May I sit down by you a few moments, father 1" 
 
 She took the seat without waiting for permission, and 
 
 they both sat in silence, looking into the fire, that emblem 
 
 of all warm, household affections alas ! where were the 
 
 warm household affections that might have made that nre- 
 
 ide so happy and genial. 
 
 ' " Father !" at length said Eoline, her words stealing very 
 soft and low on the silence " I hope we will not part in 
 anger. It is not without bitter struggles I have maintained 
 this resolution. I believe I am doing right. If I am not, 
 if I find myself mistaken, I trust I shall be forgiven for an 
 error of judgment, pardonable, perhaps, in one so young." 
 
 She paused a little, but receiving no re.ply, continued, in 
 a tone less firm 
 
 " I shall go to-morrow I am told the stage leaves early. 
 I have been gradually preparing everything for my depar 
 ture, for I have had no hope of your relenting. I know the 
 inflexibility of your will, and I do not weakly seek to bend 
 it. I have chosen my destiny and whatever it prove, 
 I will not murmur but oh, my father," here she clasped 
 her hands suddenly together, and turned toward him, tear 
 fully, imploringly, " send me not out a stranger into the 
 cold world, withering under your frown. I do not ask 
 you to bless me, perhaps you cannot do it, but I do pray 
 you to forgive me for all past neglect of duty, for all the 
 pain I at this moment cause you. I cannot go without 
 your forgiveness. I ask not for love. I ask not for favor 
 ing. I only ask, only pray for forgiveness." 
 
 Eoline had slided down on her knees, and clasped her 
 father's hands in both her own. He tried at first to free 
 them, but she would not let him, she only imprisoned them 
 the tighter in her throbbing palms. Tears fell in showers 
 from her eyes. Never till this moment had she felt how 
 strong was the ligament that bound her filial heart to her 
 only parent. Now she felt it drawing and drawing, pro-
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 25 
 
 ducing such an aching and anguish, that the thought of 
 severing it was like death. And he, despotic, and self-willed 
 and vain-glorious as he was, he felt the ligament drawing 
 too, and though he writhed to break loose from it, he could 
 not do it. Her arms were round him, her tears, her kisses 
 on his cheeks and lips he could not help it. He was 
 weak as a child. Before he knew what he was doing, he 
 was returning her embrace, and his eyelid was wet with a 
 tear which was not hers. 
 
 "Bless you, father, bless you!" she whispered, "you 
 forgive me you do love me. Must I go 1 Must I leave 
 youl You cannot part from me. Oh! I know you can 
 not." 
 
 " Then you consent to marry Horace Cleveland V' he 
 cried. " I knew you would. I knew it would all be right 
 at last!" 
 
 " Alas ! sir I cannot consent to be an unloved, unloving 
 wife." 
 
 " Then go !" he exclaimed, breaking loose from her arms 
 %( Go, and never let me see your face again. Go!" he con 
 tinued, waving his hand imperiously towards the door 
 " this scene has been too long I am weary of it." 
 
 Eoline bowed her head, folded her arms over her breast, 
 and slowly withdrew. She went to her own room closed 
 the door, and threw herself on the bed, drawing the curtains 
 over her face. She lay thus for more than half an hour 
 so still that had any one entered, they would have supposed 
 she slept. And Mrs. Howe did enter, and went up to the 
 bed, and stooping down, looked on her pale face and closed 
 eyes, then not wishing to disturb her, she sighed and with 
 drew. Soon after, other footsteps were heard, and Gatty 
 stood by her young mistress. Perceiving by the trembling 
 motion of the eye-lashes, still heavy with moisture, that 
 she was not asleep, she said 
 
 " Does not Miss Eoline want something]"
 
 26 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "No, Gatty," replied she, sitting up and passing her 
 hands over her brow. " I do not wish anything. And yet 
 you may help me, for I have much to do to-night. I am 
 going away early in the morning, Gatty." 
 
 " Well, sure enough, you will take me with you, to wait 
 pon you," said the girl, anxiously. 
 
 "I must learn to wait upon myself, Gatty, and you 
 Know I like to do it, now." 
 
 "Yes, that is the truth, Miss Eoline I never did see 
 the like of you, for that. For all master's got such a heap 
 of black folks, and there ain't one of 'em but what would 
 be proud to do the leastest thing in the world for you. 
 And, as for waiting on master, the way you've done it is 
 a caution." 
 
 " You must wait upon him now, Catty, and fill my place 
 as well as your own. You know how particular he is 
 about light and shade, and about having everything in its 
 right place. Be as thoughtful of his comfort as I have 
 tried to be, and he will surely reward you." 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! Miss Eoline, what makes you talk 
 in that way for 1 How long, in the name of the Lord 
 Harry, are you gontu stay away 1" 
 
 " Gatty, you know I have told you not to speak in that 
 way." 
 
 " Yes, I forgot. In the name, then, of the Lord Al " 
 
 " Worse, Gatty, "worse still I wish I could break you 
 of that bad habit. I fear you will learn Willie to speak 
 in this manner. It would grieve me very much you can 
 not think how the thought distresses me and I know you 
 would not willingly give me pain." 
 
 i'For nothing in the world, Miss Eoline. You got pain 
 in your heart now I see it as plain as day. I'm nothing 
 but a negro, and no business to ask questions but it make 
 me most sick to death, to see you cry anci take on, and talk 
 eo about going off and master all gumfligated sorter, mak-
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 27 
 
 ing them two big wrinkles 'tween his eyes, he allos does 
 when he mad." 
 
 " You must not speak disrespectfully of my father, G attyj 
 I cannot allow it." 
 
 " I no mean speak disrespectable of nobody," said the 
 egro, folding her fingers across each other, and looking 
 arnestly on the tear-dimmed face of Eoline j "but I know 
 something wrong, and I spect, I think " 
 
 "No, no, Gatty," cried her young mistress, rising and 
 opening a wardrobe, that stood at the foot of her bed 
 " you must not suspect, you must not think, you must not 
 Bpeak. It will do no good, and may do a great deal of 
 harm. You must help me, for it is getting late. Fold up 
 these dresses, and put them in my trunk. Pack up my 
 work-box and toilet-case. Prepare me for a long stay. 
 Put up everything as if I were going to be gone a year." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! oh, dear !" murmured Gatty, as she fol 
 lowed the directions of Eoline, and one by one folded 
 down her beautiful dresses into the large travelling-trunk, 
 already opened to receive them. 
 
 "Master Horace come back to-night," said she suddenly, 
 glancing at Eoline from the corner of her eye (if a per 
 fect globe can be said to have a corner) "Caesar just tell 
 me so. He say, too, he think there gontu be a wedding 
 fore long." 
 
 Eoline did not speak, but the cunning Gatty marked the 
 rising color of her cheek, and was sure this sudden jour 
 ney had some connection with the return of the young 
 master of Cleveland Villa. 
 
 " Cjesar say he mighty good young master," continued 
 the girl, while she wrapped in nice folds of cotton the 
 jewel-case, whose glittering contents had so often attracted 
 tier admiring gaze. " He mighty smart, too know a heap, 
 folks say " 
 
 " That will do, Gatty," said Eoline ; " the dresses left
 
 28 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 in the wardrobe shall be yours. Be faithful to my father 
 be kind, and more than kind to Willie and I will reward 
 you according to my means. And now, you may leave 
 me but remember to awaken me by dawning light." 
 
 " Shan't I sleep in Miss Eoline's room, as I allos do ?." 
 
 " Certainly," she replied, faintly smiling at her own 
 abstraction, " but lie down and go to sleep, for I am very 
 weary, and would be silent." 
 
 Gatty rolled herself, head and ears, in her blankets, and 
 deposited herself on a low couch by the side of Eoline's 
 bed but ever and anon she would roll one white eye-ball 
 over the covering, at her young mistress, who remained 
 standing where she had left her, in the centre of the room, 
 with her hands clasped together immovable as a statue. 
 
 " Now, don't she look like a heavenly serup, all cut out 
 on a tombstone!" said the negro to herself, "and oughtn't 
 master to shame hisself, if he cross and spite her, when she 
 so good to him. Well, if I was white folks, and rich folks, 
 I wouldn't make trouble, I know; it come fast enough his 
 self nobody needn't run arter it. Oh, you go to sleep, 
 Gatty, and take care of yourself it's none of your busi 
 ness, any how you can fix it." 
 
 And Gatty obeying herself literally, soon gave evidence 
 by her breathing that she had attended to her own com 
 mands. 
 
 Every thing seemed still in the house every thing but 
 the heart of Eoline that was beating wildly ; it was the 
 last night she might ever sleep under her father's roof 
 and an unknown future hung darkly over her head. Like 
 another Phaeton, she had taken the reins from her father's 
 hand, and was about to guide, young and inexperienced as 
 she was, the chariot-wheels of destiny. What, if like her 
 rash prototype, she should rush through an ordeal of fire, 
 to a miserable doom ! 
 
 "Better, a thousand times better," repeated she again
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 29 
 
 and again to herself, " than the doom from which I flee. 
 Like the daughter of Jephthah, I could sacrifice my life, at 
 a father's command ; I could immolate my own happiness, 
 hut not the happiness of another. I have no right to entail 
 wretchedness on him. He has spared me the humiliation 
 of a refusal by consenting to obey, and for this I thank him. 
 He is returned like a victim to the slaughter, never dream 
 ing that a poor weak girl would have courage enough to 
 resist an authority to which his stronger will has bowed. 
 If he does not love, he shall at least respect me. Con 
 science does sustain me. I feel that I am acting right. 
 All that an earthly father can claim of a child, I am ready 
 to yield, but none but my Father in Heaven should have 
 absolute sway over my heart, soul, and life. By the im 
 measurable capacities within me, never yet filled ; by the 
 deep sensibilities, never yet fathomed, I feel, I know that 
 I am right." 
 
 And who does not feel that she was right this noble 
 3 T oung girl ! who refused to sell her birthright for a mise 
 rable mess of pottage ; and was willing to sacrifice wealth, 
 luxury, and home, rather than barter her soul's indepen 
 dence, her heart's liberty, her life's gooJ, in a traffic un- 
 sanctioned by God or man ! Had she loved another, and 
 fled, to preserve her plighted vows inviolate, she could only 
 have done what thousands of her sex have done before 
 but her heart was unawakened, her will was free. It was 
 solely to preserve from legal desecration, the as yet lonely 
 but pure inner temple of her spirit, that she was about to 
 flee. It was to save herself from being thrust, by the hand 
 of force, against a heart shut as with Bastile bars against 
 her admission. 
 
 There is strength in thought strength in a great pur 
 pose. Eoline grew strong in the contemplation 01 the 
 responsibilities she had assumed. She could not go to look 
 again on the sweet face of the slumbering Willie, lest it
 
 30 ' EOLINE ; OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 should disarm her courage. But there was one farewell 
 visit she must pay she must give a parting glance to the 
 flowers she had so fondly cherished. The green-house was 
 accessible by a winding passage that led from her cham 
 ber, and taking her lamp, she threaded it with stilly foot 
 steps, so as not to disturb the slumbering inmates of the 
 house. As she opened the door, and the warm, fragrant 
 atmosphere mingled with her breath, she felt a sickness, 
 an oppression, that made her lean against the frame for 
 support. The temperature was graduated by a stove, that 
 produced summer-heat day and night. . This sultry air, 
 impregnated with the rich odors of tropic plants, and all 
 kinds of rare, flowering shrubs, seemed to the excited 
 senses of Eoline, fraught with a deadly languishing sweet 
 ness. Like a green pyramid, sprinkled with rainbows, the 
 flowers rose to the top of the crystal roof in gradually as 
 cending beauty. Walking slowly through the alleys that 
 separated the floral families from each other, she gathered 
 leaf after leaf, and flower after flower, till her hand could 
 scarcely hold the odoriferous burthen. 
 
 It is too little to say that Eoline loved flowers she ido 
 lized them. She had often said if she had been born in a 
 heathen land, and worshiped any of God's works, it would 
 have been flowers. They were to her, living, breathing, 
 animated beings. They talked to her with their balmy 
 breath ; as they bent their graceful stems and green leaves 
 in the wind, they seemed to woo her caresses, and she long 
 ed to fold them in her arms, and hold them against her 
 heart. She felt thus towards the flowers that sprang up by 
 the wayside God's flowers, as she used to call them when 
 a child ; then how much more precious were these, the 
 children of her care, the objects of her daily attention ! 
 
 Casting a fond, lingering look on this, her own Eden, 
 blooming in the heart of winter, and cheating it of its 
 gloom, she could have exclaimed with the banished Eve,
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 31 
 
 "Must I then leave thee, Paradise? Thus leave 
 Thee, native soil ? these happy walks and shades, 
 Fit haunt of Gods ? 
 
 Oh, flowers! 
 
 My early visitation, and my last 
 At even, which I bred up with tender hand 
 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, 
 Or rank your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount?" 
 
 Closing the door with a reluctant hand, she was about 
 to leave a place where her pure taste had erected an altar 
 and paid daily incense, when she found her dress was fas 
 tened in the doSr, and she must again unclose it. It seem 
 ed to her that the flowers she loved so much, were detain 
 ing her with blooming hands; and with a smile at her own 
 sweet fancies, she re-opened the door, and once mort the 
 soft aroma of their breaths floated lovingly round her As 
 she ascended the winding stairs, she no longer felt lonely. 
 Every scented geranium leaf had something to say to her 
 every rose petal whispered words of tenderness and love. 
 
 " These shall be my company in to-morrow's journey," 
 said she, putting them in a crystal vase. " I will cherish 
 them, even when faded and dry. They shall serve me as 
 book-marks and perfumery. I must be content with wild 
 flowers after this God's flowers yes, my Father made 
 them all !" 
 
 "When Eoline placed her flowers upon the bureau, she 
 saw a purse lying there, which was evidently laid upon it 
 during her absence. She took it up it was heavy. Had 
 it been dropped by invisible hands 1 No ! her father must 
 have heard her nocturnal visit to the green house, and ta 
 ken advantage of her absence to leave in her chamber what 
 his pride would not permit him to offer as a gift. He 
 would not let his child go forth a beggar. That would 
 reflect too much disgrace on him. Eoline felt relieved 
 from her heaviest anxiety she had enough iu her own
 
 32 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 purse to defray the expense of her journey, but she could 
 not bear the thought of being pennyless after her arrival, 
 and being compelled to ask for her salary in advance. Her 
 father's purse had always been open to her, and she had 
 but to ask to receive. She would have suffered rather than 
 have asked any pecuniary favors after being discarded as a 
 daughter, but she nevertheless rejoiced in receiving what 
 might save her from deep humiliation. One thing, too, 
 soothed her wounded affection. Her father had not slept. 
 He could not rend her from his heart without a pang. She 
 did not suffer alone ! 
 
 No she did not suffer alone. Mr. Glenmore never 
 closed his eyes during that night they turned and rolled 
 restlessly in their hot sockets, but the lids would not shut 
 over the heavy balls. He would have given worlds, if he 
 had had them, to recall the last few weeks, but he could 
 not give up his word. He would-liot bend his iron will. 
 In a struggle for power, for a father to yield to a child was 
 monstrous, unnatural ; it was an outrage upon social regu 
 lations, an infringement of the Divine law. Thus he 
 reasoned and justified himself, and cased himself in the 
 panoply of his pride, but avenging Nature wo'-ld lift up 
 her voice and cry out, " Sleep no more! sleep n. more !" 
 through all the live-long night,
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The scene is changed. The high brick walls of Magno 
 lia Vale Seminary rise above the evergreens that skirt the 
 ample yard. It is near the hour of sunset, the clear, mel 
 low, Italian sunset of a Southern Winter's day. A little 
 army of young girls is arranged, in true warlike array, in 
 the enclosure, in two opposite lines, prepared to engage in 
 the royal game of Prisoner's Base, or Prison Bars, as it is 
 sometimes called. Royal indeed, it may be deemed, since 
 it was the favorite amusement of Napoleon, in the beautiful 
 shades of Malmaison. It was probably this circumstance 
 that induced Miss Manly, the most dignified of teachers, 
 and the strictest of disciplinarians, to allow her pupils to 
 indulge in this somewhat boyish but glorious exercise. It 
 was, indeed, a charming spectacle to see these wild, bloom 
 ing girls, just loose from the restraints of school, buoyant 
 as skylarks, frolicsome as young colts, and graceful and 
 mischievous as kittens, running, bounding, and flying about, 
 and revelling in all the joy of motion, their locks of every 
 shade, from the faint, paly gold to the purplish or raven 
 black, flowing free as the wind ; their cheeks wearing 
 every tint, from the soft blush of the wild rose, to the rich 
 crimson of the damask, all glowing from exercise, and 
 every movement elastic and spontaneous as the deer of the 
 wild wood. T here Avas one figure in this juvenile group, 
 which, though with them, seemed not q/"them. As the name 
 of Uncle Ben was ringing from mouth to mouth, as a kind of 
 slogan for the young belligerents, and as no other person 
 of the masculine sex was present, a stranger would have no 
 difficulty in fastening the familiar cognomen on the plea 
 sant-looking, ruddy-faced, not very young nor very old 
 gentleman, who was frisking with extraordinary agility, in 
 72 (33)
 
 34 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 the very heart of the light-footed community. To catch 
 Uncle Ben and make him prisoner under a noble-spreading 
 tree, the appointed base, seemed the sole ambition of one 
 party ; to rescue him from his inglorious thraldom, the ob 
 ject of the other. Surely Uncle Ben was an enviable 
 mortal, to be captivated and liberated almost every other 
 moment by these bands of fair warriors. It must be ac 
 knowledged that he often pretended to stumble and knock 
 his foot against a stone, for the pleasure of being seized 
 upon by the triumphant captors; and not unfrequently 
 would he turn a voluntary somerset, which appeared per 
 fectly natural, that he might hear the merry shout of 
 laughter reverberating on the air. Uncle Ben, the real 
 uncle of Miss Manly, was the man of business, the secre 
 tary, collector, major-domo, factotum of the establishment 
 It was impossible to get along without him, or Miss Manly 
 would have done it so much did his want of dignity shock 
 her august sense of propriety. He would laugh, play, and 
 run with the girls, but as he made himself useful, indeed 
 indispensable to her, in a thousand ways, she was compelled 
 to submit to the evil for the sake of the good. By his 
 perennial good nature and intense desire to oblige, he had 
 made himself the idol of the girls, though they delighted 
 in teasing and making sport of his peculiarities. Even 
 now, as he was running, with his head extended, so that 
 his body lay almost horizontally on the air, a piece of 
 white paper in the form of a kite was pinned to his coat- 
 tail, that streamed behind him like a comet as he flew in 
 his eccentric orbit. Unconscious of this addition to his 
 attractions, he joined in their vociferous mirth, and cut 
 many an impromtu antic for their especial amusement. 
 
 At length two or three of the larger girls, weary and 
 panting, threw themselves on the ground at the foot of a 
 tree, sufficiently remote from the field of battle to avoid 
 *he danger of being run ovtr. While one replaced a truant
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 35 
 
 c^mb in her loosened tresses, another rebraided hers, and 
 a third gathered and smoothed her wind-blown ringlets, 
 they fell into earnest conversation. 
 
 " Do you think she will be here to-night 1" asked Selma 
 Howard, she with the dark hair fastened with a silver 
 comb. 
 
 " I hope so," replied Annie Gray, whose 
 
 " Soft brown hair was braided 
 O'er a brow of snowy white." 
 
 " The Colonel said so, and what she says must be true." 
 
 " Oh, how I long to see her !" exclaimed Fanny Dar 
 ling or darling Fanny, as she was more often called the 
 sweet girl with the wind-blown ringlets. " I do wonder 
 how she looks whether she is pretty or ugly, dark or fair, 
 tall or short. I hope she will be gentle and good, and will 
 ing to let us love her. I cannot bear to have a teacher 
 whom I cannot love." 
 
 "Darling Fanny is made of nothing but love," said 
 Selma, twisting her fingers most lovingly in her fair blonde 
 curls. " Don't you love the Colonel 1 I'm sure she's lov 
 able. Don't you wish the young lady who is coming may 
 resemble her 1" 
 
 " Shocking !" exclaimed Annie Gray. 'I should have 
 to speak for a new neck, for I have almost worn out the 
 one I have, stretching it up to look at her. She certainly 
 is six feet high." 
 
 " I have just found out the secret of Annie's long neck," 
 said Selma, laughing. " My eyes feel as if they were 
 vanishing into my head, rolling them up so constantly. I 
 hope the new music teacher is low in stature, so that we 
 shall not have to strain our muscles to look her in the 
 face." 
 
 " I hope she will not rap our fingers as Miss Bates did," 
 cried Fanny.
 
 36 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " Nor spat them with a piece of whale-bone like Mr. 
 Devaux," added Annie. 
 
 Then the trio of lassies became very animated in de 
 scribing the fancied appearance of the expected young 
 lady. According to one she was freckled and had red 
 hair ; to another she was very pale, tall and slender ; and 
 to another very fat and ruddy. Gradually the wearied 
 runners gathered round the reclining trio, and joined in 
 the speculations on the appearance of "the new comer, and 
 Uncle Ben, with his comet-like appendage still adorning 
 him, put his good-humored face over the shoulders of two 
 blooming damsels to listen to their conjectures. 
 
 At this moment the stage was seen rapidly rolling along 
 the road, and just as it stopped at the gate, the well-known 
 bell, ringing within the walls summoned them to their re 
 spective apartments. Woe be to the delinquent who dis 
 regarded the sound of that warning bell. Though almost 
 irresistible curiosity urged them to linger and watch the 
 descending figure, with which their imaginations had been 
 taking such unwarrantable liberties, they dared not so 
 much as cast a glance behind them, as they flew with lap 
 wing speed up the steps, through the folding doors, and 
 then subduing their motions, and falling into a regular 
 military march, they ascended, two and two, the long 
 winding stairs which led to their dormitories. Quiet as 
 dor-mice the young hoydens threaded the echoing passages 
 of this baronial castle, for such it might be called, but 
 some of them whispered with a suppressed titter, that 
 " Uncle Ben, had gone to help the young lady out of the 
 stage with the kite pinned to his coat tail." 
 
 " Oh ! that I dared to open the door and get a peep at 
 her," exclaimed Selma, as the commanding step of Miss 
 Manly, accompanied by one of lighter, gentler tread, 
 passed along the passage. But brave indeed must have 
 been the hand that could have ventured upon such a deed
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 37 
 
 in the face of the Colonel the title with which her pu 
 pils honored Miss Manly behind her back. 
 
 The hour preceding supper seemed interminable to their 
 excited curiosity. They stood with their hands on the 
 latch of the door, ready to march forth at the first tinkling 
 of the bell, whose summons at this hour, was generally 
 obeyed with alacrity. The long double row of tables in 
 the dining-hall was lined with bright, eager faces, when 
 Miss Manly's towering form was seen emerging from the 
 arch which passed over the entrance, and walking by her 
 side, almost overshadowed by her immense height, ap 
 peared the fair and youthful Eoline. The tables were 
 brightly illuminated, and as she moved slowly between 
 them, keeping time as far as possible with the majestic 
 steps of her conductress, the pupils had a favorable oppor 
 tunity of gazing on their new teacher. When they first 
 caught a glimpse of her, emerging from the shadow of the 
 arch, her cheek had the pale bloom of the eglantine, but 
 the color went on deepening and brightening, till, when 
 she reached the place assigned, it rivalled the depth and 
 brilliancy of the carnation. 
 
 The appointed seat was between Selma Howard and 
 darling Fanny, and they exchanged glances of delight as 
 the fair stranger glided in between them. 
 
 "Miss Glenmore, young ladies," said Miss Manly, with 
 a stately bow. 
 
 Eoline gently inclined her head, suffering her eye to 
 pass down the living line, meeting so many bashful smiles 
 and admiring glances, their warmth partially melted ihr. 
 chill of Miss Manly's cold and formal greeting. She smiled 
 in return. Eoline had the sweetest smile in the world, and 
 it completed the conquest her beauty had begun. The 
 young Misses were not allowed to speak at table, unless 
 addressed by their teachers or .Uncle Ben, but they had a 
 telegraphic mode of communication, peculiar to school-girls.
 
 38 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 by which they interchanged ideas with astonishing rapidity 
 Before Uncle Ben had finished saying grace, the word 
 "angel" had run along at least a dozen pair of fingers, 
 concealed by the snowy damask of the table linen. Even 
 Uncle Ben, who stood more in awe of his dignified niece 
 than he was willing to acknowledge, had become expert in 
 the use of 'the deaf and dumb alphabet, and the emphasis 
 of sly winks and meaning glances. It was not long before 
 he had made all in his neighborhood aware of his exceed 
 ing admiration of the young music teacher. Miss Manly 
 alone preserved the same imperturbable demeanor. Like 
 the great pine of the forest, whose lofty crest is unruffled 
 by the breeze that agitates the tender shrubbery at its feet, 
 she seemed above "the alternations of feeling in a higher 
 cooler stratum of the atmosphere. 
 
 She sat at the head of the table with' erect brow and 
 folded hands, for she never ate herself till she had-dismissed 
 he'r pupils to their dormitories, devoting her whole time to 
 the superintendence of their deportment, the preservation 
 of order, and the restraint of encroaching appetite. Her 
 eagle eye took in at a glance the whole length and breadth 
 of the hall and instantaneously detected the slightest breach 
 of propriety. 
 
 She was a remarkable looking woman. We have already 
 alluded to' her extraordinary height, and as she was well 
 proportioned and erect, her figure was really commanding 
 and dignified. Her head was well formed, and her fore 
 head decidedly intellectual, high, broad and prominent, 
 but her eyes had a peculiarity which gave a singular ex 
 pression to her whole face. As much of the white was 
 visible above as below the pupil, which being very large 
 and black,. .had such an intensely wide-awake look, it was 
 impossible to conceive of her ever sleeping. The round, 
 quick-moving ball resembled an immense huckleberry 
 swimming in i saucer of cream. Firm and closely shutting
 
 EOLTNE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 39 
 
 lips, a full and projecting chin, completed an assemblage 
 of features which were always shaded, morn, noon, and 
 night, by two long curls, drooping from her temples to her 
 shoulders. No Parisian kid glove ever fitted with more 
 unwrinkled exactness, than her black silk drees. No Pa 
 risian belle ever took naore pride in her chaussure than Mis 
 Manly, whose long, slender foot always contrived to es 
 cape from the folds of her skirt, and assume a conspicuous 
 position. She always commenced the discipline of the 
 table by a regular military drilling, which had probably 
 obtained for her the honorary title of Colonel, as Sergeant 
 would be immeasurably below her merits. 
 
 "Young ladies," said she, in a clear, decided tone of 
 voice, " heads up chins down shoulders back backs m 
 elbows close and toes out. Very well. Now beware of 
 opening your mouths too wide while you are eating it im 
 parts an appearance of- greediness, as unladylike as it is . 
 unbecoming. In moving your elbows, avoid making a- 
 sharp angle, but form the curved line of grace in every 
 motion. In masticating your food, be careful of making 
 any audible manifestation of the process in which you are 
 engaged in quenching your thirst, allow no gurgling sound 
 to be heard in the throat. Young ladies," repeated she in 
 a tone still more elevated, observing their glances wander 
 ing from her to the smiling countenance of Eoline, (for in 
 spite of all her efforts to repress it, a smile would play 
 around her lips,) "it is exceedingly rude to indulge in a 
 prolonged stare, and doubly rude, when addressed by a 
 person to whom you owe the utmost politeness, respect 
 and attention." 
 
 The blushing girls dropped their eyes upon their plates, 
 and some of them in their confusion, were guilty of put 
 ting their knives into .their mouths, which elicited a fresh 
 lecture on the graces of eating, from their high-breU in 
 structreas
 
 40 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "Miss Glenmore," continued Miss Manly, addressing; 
 her so suddenly, that her blood gave a sudden bound in 
 her veins, " you will perceive that my object is the im 
 provement of my pupils, in school and out of school, in 
 whatever situation they may be placed. Whatever they 
 do, I wish that it should be done with grace and propriety. 
 Too much attention cannot be paid to manners and de 
 portment, and I wish all my teachers to assist me in this 
 most difficult and exceedingly important, not to say, much 
 neglected, branch of female education. "Miss More," 
 said she, glancing towards a pale, delicate, pensive young 
 lady, who sat with veiled lids nearly opposite Eoline, 
 " Miss More is my auxiliary in the dormitories. I shall 
 expect your assistance in the same department. The table, 
 where the manners and graces of a lady are revealed to 
 the greatest advantage, I make my own peculiar charge. 
 I require no coadjutor," added she, with an exalted motion 
 of the head, " and I desire none. You are very young, 
 Miss Glenmore," continued she, in a more condescending 
 tone, " and have probably seen very little of the world. 
 You will find me ready to overlook any little deficiency, 
 provided I find a desire to please, and an earnest attention 
 to the duties that devolve upon you." 
 
 " I will endeavor not to tax your forbearance too much, 
 madam, notwithstanding my inexperience," replied Eoline, 
 the blood rushing even to her temples, at the patronizing, 
 numbliug manner of Miss Manly. She was not aware 
 how much pride there was in her look and accent, but 
 Miss Manly was and remembered it, too. 
 
 " And now, Miss Selma," cried the principal, " we will 
 commence the intellectual banquet that we always mingle 
 with the grosser elements which are necessary for the sus 
 tenance of the material frame. Can you tell me the sub- 
 jct of conversation selected for this evening 1" 
 
 "1 think it was Peter the Great," repl/ed Selma.
 
 EOLINE, OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 41 
 
 " You are right. It is a great subject, and I hope it will 
 be discussed in a manner worthy of its merits." 
 
 Then commencing with the young Miss on her right, 
 she was required to mention some fact connected with the 
 illustrious individual in question. As they were obliged 
 to prepare themselves for the occasion, and a black mark 
 in the Doomsday Book, as the culprits named the weekly 
 report, was the inevitable punishment of silence and 
 ignorance, they gave, one by one, an outline of the life and 
 character of one of the greatest heroes of modern times. 
 It was an instructive exercise, and might have been made 
 delightful, had Miss Manly permitted anything like a spon 
 taneous remark, a flash of wit and humor. But ehe mea 
 sured even the time of their answers with the rule and 
 plummet. " Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther," was 
 the language of her lips, eyes and gestures. But Canute 
 might as well have attempted to restrain the rolling bil 
 lows of the main, as human will bring to an uniform level 
 the wild elements of the juvenile mind. They must be 
 wisely directed not too forcibly repressed. Like the 
 growing tree, springing up by the side of a resisting wall, 
 the branches denied room on one side, will only shoot out 
 with more wanton luxuriance on the other. 
 
 When Eoline's turn came, in regular succession, the 
 bird-like eyes of Miss Manly paused upon her face. 
 
 "I think Peter the greatest of all great heroes," she 
 said, modestly, " because he overcame the greatest natural 
 defects he had the strongest will." 
 
 " I see very plainly," said Miss Manly to herself, perus 
 ing the lineaments of her beautiful and intellectual counte 
 nance, " that this girl has a will of her own, as powerful 
 as Peter the Great's. But there is but one will at the 
 Magnolia Vale Seminary, as she will know by-and-bye." 
 
 Uncle Ben's remark was the climax of the entertain 
 ment. There was a general leaning forward when he
 
 42 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 opened his lips ; for, thinking that a sufficient quantum of 
 wisdom and historic lore had preceded him, he always 
 wound up with a jest or conundrum, so as to be regaled 
 with a little silvery laughter, as he rose from the table. 
 
 " Peter was a great man," said he, gravely passing his 
 hand over the top of his head, and bringing his hair up in 
 thin spokes into a focus, " a very great man, but I know a 
 greater Peter still." 
 
 " Who, Uncle Ben 1" whispered a bright little creature 
 near him. 
 
 "Peter Piper," he exclaimed, and a stifled chorus of 
 laughter rolled round the room. A loud laugh was not 
 permitted in Miss Manly's presence and as Uncle Ben's 
 witticisms were not always of the most brilliant kind, the 
 effort of repression was not so unnatural as it might have 
 been. Miss Manly rang a little bell, the signal for order, 
 and repeated in a clear, sonorous voice, " Neapolian" 
 (she was fond of heroes.) He was the subject for the 
 flext day's lesson. The meal was now closed, and the 
 young ladies permitted to retire in military file. 
 
 " I will join you in the parlor in a short time, Miss 
 Glenmore," said Miss Manly, " where I shall enjoy an 
 opportunity of judging by auricular demonstration of your 
 musical talents. As I flatter myself, that 1 have a correct 
 taste and delicate ear, I can decide upon a single spe 
 cimen." 
 
 " I trust you will excuse me to-night, madam," replied 
 Eoline, " as I feel too much fatigued from my journey to 
 do myself justice, or you pleasure. To-morrow I shall be 
 most happy to oblige you." 
 
 "I only ask one song," said Miss Manly, "so slight 
 an effort cannot add to your fatigue, I am sure. I will 
 promise to dismiss you after having gratified me thus 
 far." 
 
 "Dismiss me!" thought Eoline, her high spirit chafing
 
 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 43 
 
 against the offending words. "I certainly shall not give 
 her the opportunity." "Indeed, madam," she said, re 
 spectfully, but decidedly, "you must excuse me. It is not 
 possible for me to sing to-night, since my reputation must 
 depend upon the effort. You will have the goodness to 
 ermit me to retire." 
 
 " Must and will /" repeated Miss Manly to herself, as 
 Eoline with a graceful salutation left the dining hall. 
 "We do not allow but one person to use those words 
 here. Really, my young lady deports herself most roy 
 ally." 
 
 Uncle Ben, who was lingering near the stairs, to light 
 Eoline's ascending steps, waited upon her with an assidu 
 ous politeness, that would fain make amends for the cold 
 hauteur of his niece. 
 
 "You must be tired," said he, kindly taking her hand, 
 and leading her along as if she were a child. " I know 
 your poor little soul must be nearly jolted out of your 
 body, rattling over the rough roads in a hard stage. You 
 don't look as if you were used to such things. I know 
 you can sing like a nightingale, but they shan't make you 
 sing to-night. Bless your sweet face, they shan't." 
 
 They had now reached the platform where the stairs 
 diverged. 
 
 " Good-night, my child," said he, giving her the candle, 
 which he had been holding at arm's length above his head, 
 " Go to bed and sleep like a good girl, and to-morrow you 
 will be as gay as a lark." 
 
 "Thank you, sir, for your kind wishes," replied she 
 holding out her hand, with a grateful smile. " I see I shall 
 have one friend at least." 
 
 "That you shall," cried he, energetically, "that you 
 shall. God bless you." 
 
 The blessing of the affectionate old bachelor, cheered 
 Eoline, as she passed on to her lonely chamber. Placing
 
 44 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 her candle on a little table covered with green oaize, the 
 livery of the establishment, and seating herself in a Jark 
 green Windsor chair, with a high, perpendicular back, she 
 carried her eyes slowly round the apartment, and closed 
 the survey with a feeling of inexpressible drowsiness. She 
 did feel very weary from the rough jolting of the stage, so 
 different from the easy motion of her father's carriage, 
 and it would have been a soothing indulgence to repose on 
 one of her own soft lounges, or rock in a soft-cushioned 
 chair. The room was small, and a large portion of it was 
 occupied by an immense wardrobe of black walnut, whose 
 tall columns and severe outlines reminded her of Miss 
 Manly. Narrow green curtains covered the windows, a 
 dark counterpane was spread over the bed, and a piece of 
 dark colored carpeting laid in front of the fire. Every 
 article of furniture looked dark and forbidding. There 
 was nothing to relieve the eye and gladden it with a sense 
 of beauty. Yes there were the flowers which Eoline 
 had gathered in her green-house, and having surrounded 
 them with wet cotton, whose moisture she renewed on her 
 journey, they were still fresh and fair, and filled the cham 
 ber with their redolence. 
 
 "Oh, sweet flowers," was the language of poor Eoline's 
 sighing heart, " are ye all that are left of the blossoms of 
 my young life] Have I scattered all behind me, but your 
 frail petals and fading leaves, that to-morrow will be wi 
 thered and pale 1 Ah, me, this is rather a joyless commence 
 ment of my new career. I have offended the supreme 
 majesty of Magnolia Vale already, but I cannot help it. 
 An independent spirit is now my only inheritance, and 
 after having thrown off the chains of parental despotism, 
 with a mighty struggle, I certainly cannot willingly submit 
 to any other. I hoped to have found in Miss Manly the 
 guardianship of a mother, and the tenderness of a friend.
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 45 
 
 Tenderness! I wonder if she ever felt if she ever can 
 feel 1 Good Heavens ! what a woman !" 
 
 With a sudden conviction that such reflections were as 
 unprofitable as they were unpleasing, and that she had vo 
 luntarily imposed upon herself the stern discipline whose 
 smart she was just beginning to feel, she resolved to employ 
 herself in some way, before retiring, so as to escape from 
 her own haunting thoughts. She opened her trunks, hung 
 her dresses in the solemn-looking wardrobe, arranged her 
 work-box and toilet-case on the little green table, then 
 putting on her white night- wrapper, began to loosen and 
 comb her soft, abundant hair. This soothing occupation 
 brought back thoughts of home and home luxuries, of her 
 darling Willie, who delighted in hiding, as he called it, in 
 her mantling tresses \ and the tears again gathered in her 
 eyes. 
 
 A gentle knock at the door was heard, and two smiling 
 faces peeped in. 
 
 " Miss More has sent you a rocking-chair," said Fanny 
 Darling, drawing in a low, comfortable-looking one, and 
 placing it in the corner. 
 
 Selma stood holding the door in her hand, gazing with 
 /ivid admiration on Eoline, in her white robe and flowing 
 locks. 
 
 " Come in," said Eoline, making room for them both at 
 her fireside. " Miss More is very kind, but I fear she is 
 depriving herself of a comfort, which she requires more 
 than myself. She looks very pale and delicate." 
 
 " She is sickly," replied Fanny, " but she never think 
 of herself. She would give up her bed, and sleep on the 
 floor, to oblige even a servant any time." 
 
 "Is she so self-sacrificing'?" cried, Eoline "then how 
 dearly you must love her 1" 
 
 " We do love her," said Selma, " but we pity her very 
 much, too."
 
 46 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "Is she unhappy 1" asked Eoline, the shadow of her own 
 destiny falling over her spirit. 
 
 " She is so good that every one imposes on her," replied 
 Selma. "She works from morning till bedtime, as hard as 
 a slave, and because she never complains, people forget all 
 about it." 
 
 "And yet," added Fanny, earnestly, "she says she is 
 never so happy as when doing something for others. Ac 
 cording to her own principle, she must be the happiest per 
 son in the world." 
 
 Eoline was becoming deeply interested in the remarks 
 of her young companions. The character of Miss More 
 grew on her imagination. There was a charm in the re 
 collection of her pallid cheeks and drooping eyelashes 
 associated as they now were, with patient endurance and 
 self-renunciation. 
 
 "How are you pleased with the Colonel!" inquired 
 Selma, with a mischievous smile. 
 
 " He seems a very kind-hearted, affectionate old gentle 
 man," replied Eoline. " I think I shall like him very 
 much." 
 
 Here, to her astonishment, both girls burst into a merry 
 fit of laughter. 
 
 "Whom do you think we mean by the Colonel 1" they 
 asked, as soon as they could speak. 
 
 " The gentleman whom you call Uncle Ben, of course 
 I saw no other." 
 
 " Oh, no it's Miss Manly. Every body calls her so." 
 
 Eoline could not help smiling at the appropriateness of 
 he title, though she felt it was not right to encourage tne 
 pupils in speaking in a disrespectful manner of their teacher. 
 
 " She seems a remarkable disciplinarian," she said, with 
 as much gravity as she could assume 
 
 The girls looked at each other.
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 47 
 
 " We shall get a black mark," they said, " if we are out 
 of our room too long." 
 
 Eoline rose, and took them hoth by the hand. 
 
 " You must come and see me often," she said, " I shall 
 be very lonely at times." 
 
 " You are so young," said Fanny, laying her cheek lov 
 ingly on the white hand that held hers. " Oh, what beau 
 tiful hair !" she added, running her fingers through the 
 golden filaments " how long and silky !" 
 
 " Darling Fanny is dying to tell you how sweet and 
 lovely you are," cried Selma, taking one of the long, silky 
 tresses, and twining it round her neck, " and so we all are, 
 but we dare not say so." 
 
 " You must not spoil me by your flatteries," replied Eo 
 line, putting her arms caressingly round them, and feeling 
 that some heart-flowers might bloom for her, even in the 
 wintry atmosphere of Miss Manly. The considerate offer 
 of the rocking chair ; the visit of the light-hearted girls j 
 their frank, affectionate manners, and winning expressions, 
 dispelled, in a great measure, the dreariness of the apart 
 ment. The chilled heart of the stranger grew warm, and 
 notwithstanding the hard bed and ugly counterpane, and 
 grim wardrobe, she slept soundly and sweetly till the 
 dawning of morning, when she was aroused by a blast, 
 so loud and dread, she started upon her feet in dismay. 
 Miss Manly, who was original in all her regulations, find 
 ing that, accustomed to the ringing of the bell throughout 
 the day, her pupils did not always attend to its awaken 
 ing peal, had substituted a horn in its stead, which, being 
 blown by a stout negro the whole length and breadth of 
 the long passage which divided *he dormitories, made a 
 volume of sound that might call the wind-gods from their 
 subterranean caves. When her door opened, Eoline half- 
 expected to see the dogs of the chase rushing, after theu
 
 48 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 prey, but it was only a negro girl, sent to kindle her fire, 
 who explained to her the mystery of the winding horn. 
 
 At the breakfast-table, to which she was summoned at 
 a very early hour, after receiving the greeting smiles of 
 her two young friends, and acknowledging the imperial 
 nod of Miss Manly, she contemplated with growing inte 
 rest the pensive features of her vis a vis Miss More ; 
 and there she read her whole character. Patient sweetness, 
 perfect resignation, and chastened sensibility, were all 
 written there in gentle lines. Once she raised her meek, 
 gray eyes, and meeting the fixed and serious gaze of Eoline, 
 they were instantaneously lowered, and a deep blush suf 
 fused her whole face. She did not seem more than twenty 
 years of age, though the drooping neck, and listless fall of 
 the arms, did not harmonize with the springing grace of 
 youth. There was nothing which could be called attract 
 ive about her, but Eoline felt the influence of that moral 
 charm, to her more irresistible than beauty, and her heart 
 was drawn toward this lowly and self-forgetting being. 
 
 "Attention, young ladies," cried Miss Manly, her long 
 side-curls waving like the ambrosial locks of Jupiter. " Let 
 us commence the morning's exercise." 
 
 This was a text from Scripture, recited by each pupil, 
 in regular progression. The recitation proceeded very 
 gracefully, till a little sly-looking creature was called upon 
 In her turn. She hung her head, pulled the frock of her 
 nearest companion, and at length stammered out 
 " The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want." 
 " Repeat," said Miss Manly," I cannot hear." 
 The child began again, in a sharp, frightened tone 
 " The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want." 
 " Failure, and a black mark," cried Miss Manly " You 
 icpeated the same yesterday morning. You must commit 
 tvro verses to-morrow, as a penalty."
 
 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 49 
 
 Eoline looked with compassion on the little delinquent, 
 whose flushed cheek and swelling bosom told the struggle 
 of anger and shame. What associations would be hereafter 
 connected with that hallowed volume ! How much better 
 would it have been to have allowed her to have repeated 
 a second time those beautiful words, which could bear ten 
 thousand repetitions. Nor was this all. 'At the close of 
 the exercise, Miss Manly again turned to the child, on 
 whose cheek the glow was just subsiding, and said, 
 
 " Bessie Bell, upon reflection, your offence is worse than 
 inattention. You endeavored to deceive me. Miss More, 
 under the column of Premeditated Misconduct, you must 
 put the name of Bessie Bell." 
 
 At this public disgrace, in the presence of the new 
 teacher, little Bessie burst into a passion of tears, and has 
 tily moving back her chair, was about to escape from the 
 hall. 
 
 " Go to your room, and make your breakfast on bread 
 and water," cried Miss Manly, without changing her voice 
 or manner. 
 
 " I don't want any breakfast," sobbed Bessie. 
 
 " Your dinner, too." 
 
 " I don't care," cried the exasperated child, " if you 
 starve me." 
 
 " Your supper likewise, Miss Bessie Bell." 
 
 By this time the child was heard flying up the stairs, 
 with a step that showed that every fierce passion was raging 
 in her young bosom. The children looked at each other 
 in silence ; but there was a world of expression in their 
 meeting glances. Miss More seemed distressed, Eoline 
 shocked. As for Uncle Ben, he could not restrain his ex 
 cited feelings 
 
 " I declare, niece, you are too severe," said he laying 
 down and taking up his knife and fork, between every 
 73
 
 50 EOLINE J OE, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 word "the child meant no harm she forgot, as who 
 doesn't sometimes T' 
 
 " Uncle, I cannot allow you to encourage my pupils in 
 disobedience and disrespect. You forget yourself, sir, I am 
 sure. I hope you will recall your judgment and recollection. 
 Young misses," continued she, addressing them, collectively, 
 " you were, some of you, deficient in your geography yes 
 terday. So as not to encroach on the time allotted to other 
 lessons, you must now atone for past remissness. Miss 
 Fanny, you will tell me something of the statistics of Russia. 
 It is my constant aim," she added, looking imposingly at 
 Eoline, "to combine instruction with every act of exis 
 tence. My object is to show the triumph of mind over 
 matter, the predominance of the intellectual over the ani 
 mal nature. I consider every meal at the Magnolia Vale 
 Seminary as a banquet of the soul, a feast of the mind." 
 
 "Ah! but the heart," thought Eoline, "what do you do 
 with the heart 1 Is not that sent starving away 1" 
 
 Eoline was not aware that this sentiment was written as 
 if with sunbeams on her face. Miss Manly read it, while 
 she pursued her geographical investigation. It was rather 
 a laborious task for the poor girls to travel over the civi 
 lized globe, climb its mountains, traverse its oceans, and 
 wade through its burning deserts, while swallowing their 
 coffee and disposing of their muffins. It is not strange that 
 Franklin's excellent rule, to rise from the table with an 
 unsatiated appetite, should be obeyed through necessity, if 
 not choice, under circumstances like these. 
 
 As Miss Manly never would commence any thing on 
 Friday, Eoline was not required to assume her duties till 
 the following Monday, but in the evening, with the 
 pupils arranged in perfect order around the walls of the 
 music room, Miss Manly seated on the right of the piano, 
 and Uncle Ben on the left, she had to pass through the fiery 
 ordeal of criticism. The little culprit of the morning had
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 51 
 
 humbled herself before her offended teacher, and obtained 
 permission to be present. She had slided between the 
 knees of Uncle Ben, whose kind heart was ready to weep 
 at the sight of her pale cheeks, and heavy and swollen 
 lids 
 
 "Can you sing that?." said Miss Manly, pointing to 
 stiff, old-fashioned song. " That is one of my favorites/' 
 
 " I do not play it," answered Eoline, and fearful of a 
 selection she knew would be in variance with her own 
 taste, she began one of those sweet and touching airs 
 which penetrate the soul, like the fragrance of flowers 
 that are so sweet the " sense aches at them." 
 
 No Italian Prima Donna ever had a more clear, brilliant, 
 powerful voice than Eoline, no mountain lassie one more 
 wildly warbling, no nightingale one more mellow and 
 pathetic. Mr. Leslie had said truly, that she would make 
 her fortune on the stage. As an operatic singer, she would 
 have witched the world with thrilling melody. Though 
 Miss Manly had no ear for music, and could hardly tell 
 one note from another, she felt through every fibre the 
 majesty of the loveliness of Eoline's music. Eoline had 
 indeed achieved a great triumph. She had made Miss Manly 
 feel and forget herself so far, as to look pleased. As for 
 Uncle Ben, who was an impassioned lover of music, his 
 ecstacy was beyond words. He sat with his mouth open, 
 tears gathering into his eyes, which were fixed steadfastly 
 on the rosy lips from which such heavenly strains were 
 flowing. 
 
 " You sing very well, Miss Glenmore," said Miss Manly 
 drawing a long breath. "I am satisfied that you are 
 qualified to teach. If you have as much patience and 
 perseverance as you have natural talent, you certainly will 
 succeed." 
 
 " No, she don't sing well /" cried Uncle Ben, striking 
 the piano. " It is a shame to say that. She bings like an
 
 52 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 angel, like a choir of angels. She has almost sung my 
 soul out of my body. What are you crying for, Bessy V J 
 asked he, of the child now cradled in his lap, and whose 
 face was all bathed in tears. 
 
 " It is so sweet it makes me feel sad," was the low reply, 
 Eoline heard it, and gave her a smile as sweet as her song. 
 
 " I should like now to hear you perform upon the harp," 
 said Miss Manly. " I am glad to see you have restrung it 
 for the occasion. The harp is a sacred instrument. It is 
 immortalized by the holy Psalms of David, which were 
 sung in unison with this beautiful accompaniment. It is 
 a classical one, and associated with the poetry of ancient 
 bards. The heroines of Ossian inspired the souls of he 
 roes to deeds of renown by sweeping the sounding lyre. 
 The very ghosts came forth in the moonlight to hear the 
 echoing strains. In short," said she, looking round with 
 an air of self-complacency, as if conscious she had made 
 a beautiful harangue, " I feel much gratified that I can in 
 troduce into my seminary a branch of music so noble and 
 ennobling." 
 
 " Let us applaud the Colonel's speech," whispered 
 Selma. 
 
 But Fanny, who felt the Divinity stirred within her, 
 shook her head with a soft 
 
 "Hush." 
 
 In the mean time, Eoline had uncovered the harp, and 
 drawing it towards her, ran her fingers over the wires. 
 
 " That's it. Come, little David," cried Uncle Ben, clap 
 ping his hands. " Come, little Ossian. The piano is no 
 thing to this, I know." 
 
 Uncle Ben had never heard a harp, and with his nerves 
 still vibrating from the divine breath that had floated over 
 them, it is no wonder he sat like one entranced, watching 
 the white fingers of Eoline gleaming among the glittering 
 Chords and producing the most ravishing harmony.
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 5 
 
 "I should like a sacred theme," said Miss Manly. 
 
 Eoline immediately commenced the beautiful strains of 
 " I know that my Redeemer liveth." Eoline, with her 
 fair hair, and celestial blue eyes bending over the harp, 
 and breathing those holy words, really seemed "little 
 lower than the angels," and an aureola of purity and 
 piety appeared to beam around her brow. 
 
 Miss Manly, who had thought her far too young and su 
 perfluously lovely for her vocation, began to think of the 
 eclat she would give to her concerts, and the advantage 
 such extraordinary musical talents would be to her semi 
 nary. She had long been, in vain, seeking a teacher who 
 could not only play upon, but supply this elegant instru 
 ment, and she could not but think herself singularly for 
 tunate in having secured this young girl. If it were not 
 for the independent spirit that sometimes flashed from the 
 deep and serene blue eyes, she would have felicitated her 
 self still more. 
 
 When Eoline paused, after giving that full sweep to the 
 chord which announces the finale, Uncle Ben cleared his 
 throat several times, and exclaimed 
 
 " I don't want to go to Heaven, while I can hear such 
 music as that on earth. Young lady," said he, in a low, 
 reverent voice for Uncle Ben had a great deal of rever 
 ence, in spite of his levity "you ought to thank God for 
 giving you such a glorious gift. / thank Him for sending 
 you here." 
 
 " I am very much pleased with your performance, Miss 
 Glenmore," said Miss Manly, with unwonted condescen 
 sion. " You have had great advantages been taught by 
 eminent masters. You were probably educated for a mu 
 sic teacher." 
 
 " No, madam," answered Eoline, a brilliant color flash 
 ing into her face. 
 
 " Family misfortunes, I presume V
 
 54- EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 M Yes, Madarn," she replied, wffh a deep sigh. 
 
 " Surely," she added to herself, " there can be no greater 
 misfortune, than the estrangement of a parent from his 
 child death itself were less cruel." 
 
 The children had listened with rapt and smiling atten 
 tion to their future teacher. Like Uncle Ben, very few 
 of them had seen a harp, and the charm of novelty was 
 added to its other fascinations. The poetry of Eoline's 
 appearance, the elegance and fashion of her dress, the 
 graceful self-possession of her manners, added to the 
 matchless sweetness of her voice, and her exquisite and 
 brilliant execution, formed a combination of attractions 
 that completely captivated their young imaginations. 
 
 Thus triumphantly did Eoline pass this dreaded ordeal. 
 Monday was her inauguration day, and Miss Manly at 
 tended to the rites with due solemnity.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Eoline commenced her new duties with feelings of awk 
 wardness and repugnance, known only to herself, but she 
 became gradually interested in the progress of her pupils, 
 whose enthusiastic attachment and admiration imparted 
 brightness and beauty to her daily tasks. Constant em 
 ployment gave wings to the hours, which at first dragged 
 so weariedly, and the all-exacting Miss Manly seemed sat 
 isfied with her attention to her classes. 
 
 At night, when retired to her little room, she welcomed 
 its quietude and rest, notwithstanding the absence of all 
 those elegancies and luxuries to which she had been accus 
 tomed in her father's mansion. It was sweet to repose 
 after a day of toil, and it was sweet to hold communion 
 with a heart as pure and a mind as enlightened as Louisa 
 More's After the nine o'clock bell had mng, and the 
 young misses retired to their beds, this young lady gene 
 rally sat an hour with Eoline, who called this her balm 
 hour, for her spirit seemed bathed with holy unction, after 
 the evening intercourse. Strangers who visited the semi 
 nary, beheld in Louisa More only a pale, delicate, shrink 
 ing young woman, a faithful and hard-working teacher ; 
 but those who knew her, as Eoline now did, who had 
 lifted the veil that shrouded the temple of her heart, saw 
 glimpses of the Shekinah, whose glory was concealed by 
 a curtain so thick, the rays burned within, with a radiance 
 more intense and consuming. She was the daughter of a 
 New England minister, who, after languishing for years 
 on a sick bed, died, leaving a wife in feeble health, and a 
 young and helpless family Louisa being the eldest of the 
 children, felt as if the burden of their support devolved 
 
 (55)
 
 56 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 upon herself. Though only sixteen, she commenced a 
 small school in her native town, but its profits were very 
 inadequate to their wants. About two years previous, she 
 had an offer from the South, which she gladly accepted, 
 for she already felt symptoms of that fatal malady which 
 had numbered her father among its victims, and physicians 
 told her she might find health, as well as wealth, in the 
 genial latitude to which her hopes were now turned. 
 
 " How much more exalted are your motives than mine !" 
 exclaimed Eoline, after listening to Louisa's simple and 
 touching history ; " I feel, since I have known you, as if 
 my life had been one tissue of selfishness. Yet I dared to 
 glorify myself as a martyr, when I gave up wealth and 
 home to avoid the immolation of my own happiness. 1 
 have gloried too in my independence, and exalted it into 
 magnanimity. And yet your Christian meekness, your 
 lowly resignation, how much more lovely. There are 
 moments when I doubt even the rectitude of my con 
 duct when I feel as if, like the Prodigal Son, I could 
 arise and go to my father, and casting myself upon his 
 neck, exclaim * I am not worthy to be called your 
 child.' " 
 
 "You do yourself great injustice," replied Louisa, to 
 whom Eoline had confided the story of her banishment ; 
 " I consider your conduct far more magnanimous and really 
 self-sacrificing, than mine. The happiness of another, as 
 well as your own, was at stake, and that you had no right 
 to destroy. Hundreds, nay, thousands, dear Eoline, have 
 done and are doing what I now do urged by necessity, 
 that stern and relentless taskmaster. But where is there 
 one, young, beautiful and affluent like yourself, would gird 
 themselves with hempen chords, as it were, unmindful of 
 their roughness, and walk unshrinking in a path where 
 thorns, 1 know, start up on every side to pierce your bleed 
 ing feet, rather than barter their integrity and truth."
 
 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 57 
 
 " How charmingly you reconcile me to myself," cried 
 Eoline, "and how I thank you for the generous warmth 
 with which you defend me from my own aspersions. Yes ! 
 I have met with some thorns, but your friendship is a balm 
 for all the wounds they have made. Had I not come to 
 this place, I never should have known you, and now I 
 wonder how I ever lived without you. Then there is 
 Darling Fanny and Selma, and little Bessy such charm 
 ing girls, whom I love so dearly, and good Uncle Ben. 
 They are all treasures, which I have found, when I sought 
 them not." . 
 
 " And Miss Manly," said Louisa, with a smile that beau 
 tifully illuminated her pensive face. 
 
 " I should be sorry not to have known Miss Manly, for 
 she is a character such as the world seldom sees. She 
 really has a powerful mind, and is a female Napoleon hi 
 her line but she seems that strange anomaly, a woman 
 without a heart." 
 
 "I think you are mistaken," said Louisa, "she is capable 
 of feeling. In sickness she is very kind, and I am tola 
 she is very charitable to the poor. There are few cha 
 racters without some redeeming excellencies. I should 
 not wonder if she had her weaknesses, too." 
 
 " Do you think she was ever in love 1" asked Eoline, 
 laughing. " That must be a strange passion," added she 
 after a pause, " and I do not think I shall, ever experience 
 its power and yet, when I have read of devoted, self- 
 sacrificing attachment, of love stronger than death, deeper 
 than the grave, I have felt as if I could thus love, thus die 
 for the beloved object. But Louisa, it seems to me, to love, 
 I must be loved, devotedly, passionately, exclusively, loved 
 as a woman never yet was loved. Nay, even love would 
 not satisfy my heart's boundless cravings. It must be 
 worship, adoration. It must be something I never shall 
 find in this world and therefore 1 shall never love
 
 58 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 unless," exclaimed she, changing the impassioned tone in 
 which she had been speaking to one of merriment, " unless 
 it be Uncle Ben, for I verily believe he worships me." 
 
 " You seem created for such worship," said Louisa, gaz- 
 :ng on the lovely face of Eoline, now glowing with the 
 warmth of latent passion, " and I tremble to think of the 
 trials that may yet await you. It is a mystery that is 
 inexplicable to me, that Horace Cleveland, who has known 
 you from your childhood, has not thus adored you." 
 
 " It is for that very reason he cares not for me. Edu 
 cated to consider me as his own property, as something he 
 must take nolens volens, his pride rebelled against coercion 
 and guarded every avenue to his heart. I really honor him 
 for his coldness. I wonder what he thinks of me now, 
 the banished fugitive, the self-willed, indomitable girl," 
 said Eoline, looking thoughtfully into the dying embers. 
 
 "He must admire you now," replied Louisa, impressing 
 on her warm cheek the kiss which sealed their parting 
 moment. 
 
 Not many days after this conversation, Eoline was 
 summoned from the music-room to the parlor, where she 
 was told a gentleman wished to see her. The image of 
 a relenting father came to bear her back to a home too 
 lonely, uncheered by her filial love, rose before her glis 
 tening eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! I knew he could not live without me," repeated 
 she to herself as she flew down stairs, leaving the messen 
 ger far behind her. " I have done injustice to his affection. 
 I have thought him cold and inexorable, cruel and unkind. 
 Oh ! dear father, with what rejoicing gratitude will I throw 
 myself into your arms, and never, never leave them 
 more." 
 
 Arrived at the door, she stopped and turned pale. Her 
 hand trembled on the latch. Perhaps it was not her father 
 after all -if it were he might only have come to upbraid 

 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 59 
 
 her and renew the conflict which had so lately rent her 
 heart. Summoning her failing resolution, she entered 
 and beheld, instead of the portly master of Glenmore, 
 the figure of a tall young man, standing with his back 
 towards the door, examining a picture that hung over the 
 mantel-piece. He turned around at her entrance, and she 
 found herself face to face with the dreaded Horace Cleve 
 land. 
 
 It was a moment of intense mutual embarrassment. The 
 revulsion of feeling which Eoline experienced was so great, 
 that every drop of blood forsook her face, leaving her as 
 colorless as alabaster. The fear that her father was 'sick 
 or dead annihilated every other thought. She could not 
 speak, but making a motion to a chair, she sunk into one 
 herself, unable to stand. 
 
 " I fear you must look upon me as an intruder," said 
 the young man, scarcely less agitated than herself. " In 
 deed, it must have been a very powerful motive that 
 could have induced me to brave your displeasure." 
 
 " Has my father sent for me 1" she asked, intent on one 
 thought. 
 
 " Your father does not know of my being here. I saw 
 him a few evenings since in his usual health." 
 
 Eoline breathed more freely, but the embarrassment of 
 her situation pressed more painfully upon her. Why had 
 Horace sought her 1 On what mission had he come 1 
 
 "And Willie, my darling Willie 1" she asked. "Have 
 you seen him, too 1" 
 
 " Yes, and he talked of nothing but Ela. He told me 
 to come and bring sister Ela back, for he could not live 
 without her." 
 
 " Dear little fellow !" exclaimed Eoline, tears rushing 
 to her eyes. " What would I give to see him!" 
 
 There was silence for a few moments. Young Cleve 
 land, the deep student, the bookworm, the dweller of libra
 
 60 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 ties, the inhabitant of the world of thought, so little versed 
 in social etiquette, so diffident and reserved in the presence 
 of woman would have met with less dread the gleam of 
 a thousand tomahawks, than the glance of Eoline's tearful 
 eye. Notwithstanding his repugnance to a compulsory 
 union, he had looked upon it as inevitable, never dreaming 
 of the brave, resisting spirit enshrined in the fair yet slight 
 form of his young betrothed. When he learned of her 
 flight and banishment, her noble self-reliance, to avoid a 
 hated wedlock, though the object of hatred was himself, 
 he felt a thrill of admiration, such as the history of heroic 
 deeds inspires. He had seen her a beautiful and accom 
 plished girl, but he deemed it a matter of course that all 
 young ladies must be beautiful and accomplished, and it 
 excited in him no especial emotion. He had seen her sur 
 rounded by admirers in her father's drawing-room ex 
 changing with them those sportive sallies which give grace 
 and piquancy to the passing hour, and he had thought 
 her frivolous, as he took it for granted that all young 
 ladies were. His life having been one of intense study, 
 he knew nothing of the world, but little of mankind, and 
 still less of himself. Great thoughts were always rolling 
 through his mind, like chariot wheels, crushing the wild 
 flowers of feeling that bloomed by the wayside. Hitherto 
 he had been all intellect, but there never was a great 
 intellect without a corresponding heart, though the pos 
 sessor may live and die without feeling its awakened en 
 ergies. 
 
 To follow Eoline and entreat her to return, to promise 
 to exile himself from country and home, if necessary to 
 her happiness, was due not only to her but to his own ho 
 nor and sense of justice. 
 
 .An unacknowledged curiosity to see once more a girl 
 rapable of such heroic conduct, and whose perfections he
 
 EOLINEj OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 61 
 
 had so strangely slighted, added strength to the impulse 
 that urged him to Magnolia Vale. 
 
 " If I am the cause of your exile," said he, making a 
 strong effort to speak with composure "let me be also the 
 means of your restoration. Believe me, I am very unhap 
 py to see you an alien fiom your father and home on my 
 account. There is no sacrifice I would not make to insure 
 your return. If I had known the unconquerable repugnance 
 you felt for the union our fathers desired, I never would 
 have returned to my native land. I would rather have 
 died on a foreign shore." 
 
 He spoke with earnestness, and Eoline raised her eyea 
 to see if it were indeed the cold, unimpressible Horace 
 Cleveland that thus addressed her. His own eyes were 
 fixed upon her face, and instead of the haughty self-con 
 centration, she had thought their prevailing expression, 
 there was truth, dignity, even sensibility in their beams. 
 For the first time she felt as if she might value him as a 
 friend, however she might shun him as a lover. Her em 
 barrassment subsided before his tone of manly sincerity. 
 She could think with calmness she could speak with con 
 fidence. 
 
 " You have no cause of self-reproach," she said. " The 
 repugnance you have manifested has been no more under 
 your control than mine. I have never resented it. I felt 
 that it sprang from the same source as my own a coerced 
 will. It was for your sake, even more than my own, that 
 I have taken the extraordinary step which has freed me 
 from parental authority. My own happiness I might have 
 relinquished, but I had no right to involve yours in the 
 sacrifice. You must give me credit for some disinterested 
 ness," added she, with a smile and a slight blush. 
 
 u You impute feelings to me," he replied, wondering he 
 had never observed before the intellectual beauty and spiri 
 tuality of Eoline's countenance, " feelings I am not con-
 
 62 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 scious of displaying. I plead guilty to the most unpardonable 
 rudeness and neglect, but not to dislike. I disliked the 
 position in which I was placed, and believed myself an 
 object of ridicule and avoidance to yourself, but you have 
 misunderstood my character." 
 
 " I am very glad if I have," said she, with animation. 
 *'I am sure I have. The past cannot be recalled, nor its 
 consequences, but the future may be made happier by our 
 cherishing for each other kindness and good will. I shall 
 like you very much as a friend, you are so true and sincere. 
 Our parents have erred very much in judgment in trying 
 to make us more, but we must forgive them, as they must 
 have meant our happiness. We are friends, then, are we 
 notl" she exclaimed, holding out her hand, with a gay 
 smile, for she felt released from an awful restraint, and her 
 spirits rose with spontaneous lightness. 
 
 As Horace took the fair hand so gracefully extended, he 
 smiled, too, at the oddness of their position, and it was as 
 tonishing what a magic effect that smile had on his coun 
 tenance. Those who have naturally a grave and thoughtful 
 expression, when they do smile, seem to be illuminated, 
 especially if they have a fine set of teeth, as Horace had. 
 She had never seen him smile so before, for the true 
 reason that he never had so smiled. 
 
 "But will you return to your father 1" said he. "You 
 must not remain here. What a place for the daughter of 
 Mr. Glenmore!" 
 
 " I shall never return till my father recalls me, and I 
 know too well his inexorable will to expect such a sum 
 mons. I again repeat, you are not to blame, nor should 
 you suffer one moment's unhappiness on my account. I 
 am very far from being miserable. I reign like a Queen 
 among my young subjects. I have found here a friend, who 
 is dear to me as my own soul, and a dear old Uncle Ben, 
 who would walk over burning ploughshares, if it would
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VA.LE. 63 
 
 give me any pleasure. I have learned, too, the pleasure of 
 being useful." 
 
 " Are you really contented and happy 1" 
 
 " 1 cannot say that I am but I am resigned, and I have 
 not time to be heart-sick." 
 
 "Do you think your father can be happy without 
 you!" 
 
 " He has banished me it was his own act." 
 
 " Can I ever be happy, who am the cause of all T' 
 
 "Yes, for you are innocent. Let us leave misery to 
 guilt we have no right to feel it." 
 
 A kind of rushing sound overhead, indicated that the 
 school was dismissed, and Horace rose to depart. 
 
 " I cannot bear to leave you here," said he. ' 
 
 " Stay and take dinner with us. Miss Manly will wel 
 come you with characteristic dignity to one of the intel 
 lectual banquets of Magnolia Vale." 
 
 "No, I am not equal to such an honor just now. I 
 could rush into the field of battle with far less effort than 
 encounter a formidable band of school girls." 
 
 " Eeturn in the evening, then, when I shall be at liberty, 
 and the ' formidable band ' engaged in study." , 
 
 "Do you really wish it, or do you ask from polite 
 ness 1" 
 
 " I really wish it," said she, laughing, " and I think it 
 polite to ask, besides." 
 
 " And I shall find you alone 1" 
 
 " Oh, no not entirely alone I want to introduce you 
 to my particular friend, Colonel Manly, to my sweet friend, 
 Miss More, and my nonpareil of an uncle." 
 
 " You intimidate me, but perhaps I will come," said he, 
 as they passed through the door together. 
 
 Miss Manly 's towering form was seen standing on the 
 platform of the stairway, just above them. 
 
 Young Cleveland bowed hastily to Eoline. and hurried
 
 64- EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 away, as if that majestic being were indeed the military 
 chief \^aose honors she wore. 
 
 Eoline saw at one glance that she was not pleased. The 
 white rim of her eye was enlarged, an unfailing sign. 
 
 "You have had a long call, Miss Glenmore," said she, 
 with stately mien. 
 
 "From an old acquaintance," replied Eoline. 
 
 " Your pupils have been idle in the meantime." 
 
 " I will give them their lessons after dinner," said 
 Eoline, with rising color. 
 
 " It will be impossible every moment will be occupied 
 oy others." 
 
 " I did not expect to be considered such a slave to hours, 
 Miss Manly, as not to have the privilege of greeting an 
 old friend." 
 
 "I never leave school myself during recitation hours, 
 Miss Glenmore, and I expect all my teachers to follow my 
 example. But as you were perhaps not aware of my rule, 
 we will overlook it this time. In future, ask your friends 
 to call in the evening. At any rate, such very long visits 
 from very young gentlemen are not consistent with my 
 vie^js of propriety." 
 
 Eoline was about to reply as her high spirit prompted, 
 when she felt a gentle touch on her arm, and the soft gray 
 eyes of Louisa More, looked beseechingly into hers. 
 Without uttering one word, they clasped each other's 
 hands, and ascended the stairs, while Miss Manly swept by 
 them towards the dining hall. 
 
 " Oh, thou smoothing oil to the troubled waves of pas 
 sion!" exclaimed Eoline, laughing in spite of her anger, 
 at the recollection of Miss Manly's preposterous sense of 
 propnety, " why cannot I be as gentle and lowly-minded 
 as thou art 1 ? Do you know, I think there are boiling 
 springs m my veins, they come bubbling up to my cheeks 
 so often. Just feel how hot they are," putting Louisa's
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 65 
 
 hand first to one and then the other of her crimson cheeks. 
 "But who do you think has been herel Horace Cleve 
 land and would you believe it 1 we are the best friends 
 in the world ! We talked about our mutual repugnance, 
 laughed about it, and concluded to bury the tomahawk 
 and smoke the calumet of peace in the good old Indian 
 style. He is coming here to-night. I long to have you 
 see him." 
 
 " I did see him as he passed out, and certainly disco 
 vered no reason for personal dislike. He seemed a fine 
 looking young man, with a very gentleman-like bearing." 
 
 " Do you think so 1 It seems to me that we have been 
 looking at each other through a glass darkly, for I liked 
 his looks better this morning than I have ever done before, 
 and notwithstanding my prejudices, I really thought him 
 agreeable. I want him to see you and fall in love with 
 you, for if I mistake not, you are just the person to interest 
 him." 
 
 " Do not talk in this foolish manner, dear Eoline. Such 
 a jest does not seem natural on your lips." 
 
 "I am not jesting I never was more serious!" 
 
 " I never expect to inspire love in any one," said Louisa, 
 pressing her hand against her aching side, " and least of 
 all, in one who has been proof against your attractions. 
 I know that I am doomed, and that an early death will 
 save me from the oft dreaded title of old maid, and I some 
 times rejoice in the thought, for I would not like to pass 
 the years of a long life, unloving and unloved." 
 
 "Unloved!" repeated Eoline, putting her arm fondly 
 round her, " who could know you and not love you V 
 
 "I am an ungrateful being!" cried Louisa, returning 
 Eoline's warm caress, and unworthy of the praise you be 
 stow upon me; for, oh! Eoline, there are times when I 
 envy you you, so full of health, and life, and beauty 
 you who seem born for love and happiness. There are 
 74
 
 66 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 moments when I forget the countless blessings my God 
 has given, and pine for those he has withheld j when I 
 dare to ask why he has given me this pallid cheek, and 
 feeble frame, and weary step, instead of your radiant 
 bloom, elastic form, and buoyant spirit. Eoline, you ought 
 to be happy you know not what bounteous gifts Heaven 
 has showered upon you." 
 
 " I would give them all, Louisa, for your meek, Christian 
 spirit." 
 
 The thoughts which Louisa had suggested were sad and 
 chastening. Was it, indeed, true that she was doomed 
 to an early grave ! and was not she, and every human 
 being, hastening to the same dark bourne I Were they not 
 all shadows, hurrying along one after another, with unrest 
 ing speed, coming and going every moment, coming 
 from one abyss, and plunging into another 1 Even Miss 
 Manly, iron-framed and iron-hearted Miss Manly, must 
 meet the common doom she, too, would be hurried away. 
 No ! She would not hurry she would move majestically 
 onward to meet the King of Terrors himself, as if march 
 ing of her own accord. She held up her own hand, and 
 looked at the rosy palm, beneath which the life-blood was 
 brightly flowing, and wondered if that warm hand would, 
 indeed, be cold and stiff, incapable of the grasp of friend 
 ship, or the pressure of love. She shuddered. 
 
 "Of what are you thinking so deeply," asked Louisa. 
 
 " Of death ! and oh, what wild thoughts have been 
 running through my brain! Can we command our thoughts'!" 
 
 " We are told to do so, and nothing is required of us 
 beyond our strength." 
 
 The ringing of the dinner-bell interrupted their conver- 
 eation. Eoline met Miss Manly at table with a serene 
 countenance the contemplation of their common doom 
 had subdued all her resentment. 
 
 She welcomed Horace Cleveland, when he made his even-
 
 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 67 
 
 ing visit, without embarrassment. Their morning inter 
 view had removed the painful constraint she had always 
 felt in his presence. It was the first time since his man 
 hood that she had ever spoken with him frankly and 
 unreservedly, and a feeling of liberation, of expansion, 
 swelled high above the broken chains of her former bond 
 age. 
 
 " I thought you did not care about music," said she, 
 while she fluttered the leaves of a music-book, for the song 
 he had asked her to play, " I always avoided my instru 
 ments when you were near, for fear of disturbing you." 
 
 "Do not punish me for past obtuseness," he replied, "or 
 rather for past awkwardness and silence. I do love music 
 intensely, but I cannot speak of it. It stirs an under cur 
 rent that never flows up to the surface." 
 
 " I am glad you love music ; but I see plainly I know 
 nothing of your tastes. I do not like to play to deaf ears, 
 like Uncle Ben's, for instance." 
 
 " Do hear the little witch !" cried Uncle Ben, patting 
 her affectionately on the cheek, " she sets me half-crazy 
 with her singing, makes a complete fool of me, and then 
 pretends I don't hear her!" 
 
 Horace did not turn the leaves of the music-book for 
 Eoline, as she played. He never thought of that, or that 
 Uncle Ben, who stood with his hand hovering above the 
 leaves, eagerly following the motion of her eyes, to know 
 when to whisk them over, was doing what he had not the 
 gallantry to offer. He sat leaning against the piano, shading 
 his eyes, feeling, as the sweet voice of Eoline stole aroun 
 him and glided within him, as if he were reclining on 
 some green bank, swept over by long, swaying -boughs, 
 through which the summer sunshine shot a golden glance 
 here and there, while a silver stream ran murmuring and 
 gurgling and rippling, diffusing a kind of haziness over the 
 soul, like the delicious languor of a dream. Then, again,
 
 68 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 his spirit seemed a moonlit lake, curling and undulating, 
 as the breath of music floated over it, then swelling high 
 under a full breeze of melody. Thus Horace felt, but he 
 said nothing. He forgot the songstress in the emotions she 
 inspired. He lost sight of beauty in his deep sense of the 
 beautiful. He never thought of thanking her, or of praising 
 her, any more than of praising the stars for their lustre, or 
 the flowers for their fragrance. He felt like praising God, 
 not her. Could Eoline have looked down into his mind 
 and read all its deep and glowing thoughts, she would have 
 felt more complimented by his expressive silence than by 
 Uncle Ben's rapturous applause, but she had been accus 
 tomed to think him cold, and she thought him so still. 
 
 As it was Friday evening, several of the elder pupils 
 were allowed to sit in the parlor, so that they might be 
 come accustomed to society. Darling Fanny, Selma How 
 ard, and Annie Gray, sat on a low sofa in the back part of 
 the room, amusing themselves by watching Miss Manly's 
 shadow on the wall. Anxious to impress on the mind of 
 the young man, not only her taste for music, but her know 
 ledge of it, as a science, she kept the most elaborate time, 
 bowing her head, waving her long curls, and opening and 
 shutting her eyes between each note. 
 
 " She looks as if she were purring," whispered Selma. 
 
 " She seems pleased at any rate, and that's a comfort," 
 said Annie. 
 
 " I wish he would ask her to sing," Fanny said upon her 
 fingers. " But she could not see the keys, they would be 
 so far below her." 
 
 Eoline moved from the piano, and there was a slight 
 pause. Miss Manly cleared her throat in order to utter 
 some brilliant remark, when Horace suddenly turned to 
 Eoline, and said, 
 
 " I have not had the pleasure of seeing Colonel Manly 
 yet. I think you spoke of introducing me this morning."
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 69 
 
 This unexpected remark acted as a match to the smothered 
 mirth of the mischief-loving girls, and they exploded at 
 once into a burst of laughter. Miss Manly's face turned a 
 violent red. 
 
 " Go to your room, young ladies," said she, commanding- 
 ly, " if you cannot preserve your decorum in society better 
 than that, we will dispense with your presence." 
 
 The young trio, with their handkerchiefs to their faces, 
 left the room with demure steps, but the moment they had 
 closed the door, another merry peal was rung and kept 
 ringing all the way, as they flew up stairs. 
 
 Horace looked very much confused, for Eoline began to 
 look earnestly for something on the carpet, instead of an 
 swering him and Uncle Ben, with his mouth drawn up 
 like a purse and his eyes brimming with laughter, took 
 out his handkerchief and dusted his boots most laboriously. 
 
 " I thank you, Miss Glenmore, for the compliment you 
 have paid me," cried Miss Manly, with freezing dignity. 
 " I have given you credit for some good-breeding, but I 
 find I am mistaken. I pity the young lady who is reduced 
 to so low an ebb of enjoyment as to ridicule her friends 
 and superiors in the presence of strangers." 
 
 " I plead guilty to the offence, madam," cried Eoline, as 
 meekly as Louisa More, herself, for she was unaffectedly 
 penitent, and grieved to have wounded Miss Manly's feel 
 ings, however unwittingly, " and sincerely beg your for 
 giveness. I little thought what I said so thoughtlessly and 
 sportively to Mr. Cleveland, would be understood seriously. 
 I forgot" 
 
 "You forgot that he was not aware of the respectful 
 soubriquet you have been pleased to honor me with." 
 
 " Indeed madam," cried Horace, vexed with himself for 
 his unfortunate remark, " you must excuse Miss Glenmore. 
 They told me at the hotel that Colonel Manly resided here, 
 so whatever may be said of the title, she certainly has not
 
 70 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 the honor of inventing it. I hope, likewise, you will acquit 
 me of all intentional disrespect." 
 
 " The truth is," exclaimed Uncle Ben, who seemed sa 
 tisfied of the purity of his boots, " my niece ought to feel 
 flattered with the compliment the public have conferred 
 upon her. She is a wonderful disciplinarian, and as she 
 conducts her school with true military order, and as she 
 has, as you see, a commanding appearance, they call her 
 the Colonel. As for little David here, I am sorry she seems 
 so crest fallen. She meant no harm, no more than a crow 
 ing baby bless her sweet singing tongue. Come niece, 
 tell her you forgive her, for I am sure it is not worth being 
 angry about." 
 
 " I cannot forgive myself," said Eoline, ingenuously. " I 
 have always felt respect for Miss Manly, and intended no 
 thing b'ut a light jest, a very foolish one, I ackowledge." 
 
 " I accept your apology, Miss Glenmore," said Miss Man 
 ly, with unexpected graciousness j then turning to Horace, she 
 added, " We, who are placed in elevated situations, and 
 have taken a lofty stand before the world, are conspicuous 
 targets for the shafts of envy and the arrows of wit. Few 
 young ladies have acquired the reputation I have attained 
 as an instructress of youth. I say it with modesty, sir ; and 
 I suffer the usual consequences of brilliant success. There 
 is a striking adage, that Envy, like the sun, shines hottest 
 on the highest ground. I feel the truth of this time- 
 honored aphorism." 
 
 Horace bowed respectfully at the close of this harangue. 
 It was all he could do. He felt uncomfortable and rose to 
 depart. Eoline followed him into the passage, which was 
 illuminated by the lamps in the upper gallery. 
 
 " You will see my father," she said.. "Bear to him, from 
 me, a daughter's fondest love and Willie, my own dear 
 Willie, tell him I send him a thousand kiss.es, 'and yearn 
 more than tongue can speak for one of his dear, caresses."
 
 EOLINEj OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 71 
 
 " Can nothing prevail upon you to return "? There is no 
 sacrifice I would not make, nothing I would not do to see 
 you restored to the home from which I have been so un 
 fortunate as to have driven you. You cannot be happy 
 here. It is impossible. Your life must be a continual 
 martyrdom." 
 
 " Nay, not so," she answered, gratified that he seemed 
 roused to some interest in her welfare. " I need the dis 
 cipline I am passing through. You have not seen the 
 sunny side of my life. I am sorry for the little cloud that 
 arose to-night." 
 
 " And I, as usual, sad blunderer, was the cause," said 
 Horace. "Really, Eoline, you have reason to hate me. 
 I am a cold, dark wall between you and sunshine. I could 
 bless the tempest that laid me low, so that the "barrier to 
 your happiness might be removed." 
 
 " You wrong yourself to speak or think in this manner," 
 cried Eoline, with earnestness. " It is thus I have felt 
 with regard to you, and I would be willing to meet far 
 greater privations than 1 now endure, for the joyful con 
 sciousness that I have broken the chains that galled you, 
 and restored you to freedom of choice and action. It is 
 your right, and may you enjoy it, as freely, as glo 
 riously, as God intended you should. Forgive me if I 
 have thought you unfeeling. I see you can feel, and 
 nobly, too." 
 
 He did not answer immediately, but stood with his arm 
 folded and his eyes bent upon the floor. 
 
 " If you know what injustice I have done your charac 
 ter," he said, " you would never ask forgiveness of me. 
 I thought all young girls were mere flowers to bloom in a 
 drawing-room. I did not know they could breast the 
 wind and wrestle with the storm." 
 
 He spoke with energy, and his serious, dark eye 
 ened.
 
 72 EOLTNE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " My mother," ife added, " is in feeble health, and phy 
 sicians have recommended the mild climate of Cuba. She 
 wishes me to accompany her ; and we may not return for 
 many months. If, by leaving my home permanently, 1 
 can secure your restoration to yours, most willingly, gladly 
 will I exile myself. It is this I came to say it is this I 
 must again and again repeat." 
 
 "It would make no difference in the conditions my 
 father has imposed." she replied, with a heightened color, 
 " I know his terms, and they would not be affected by any 
 sacrifice of yours. Perhaps, however," continued she, 
 with a bright smile, " should you bring back a beautiful 
 bride from a foreign land, and he saw the impossibility of 
 his wishes being fulfilled, he might relent, he might per 
 haps forgive, and take the wanderer to his arms again. 
 I shall live in hope of such an event, and of such a 
 result." 
 
 " I do not think it likely I shall oblige you in that way," 
 said he, with a vexed look, and turning coldly towards the 
 door, " though I thank you for the suggestion." 
 
 With a distant bow, that reminded her very much of 
 the Horace of old, he was about to leave her, when, mov 
 ing between him and the door, she said, playfully, 
 
 " You are not angry with me, Horace. I little thought 
 of making you so. We must not forget our compact, and 
 friends do not part thus coldly." 
 
 "I am conscious that I am rude in manners," said he, 
 taking the hand, with which she impeded his egress, and 
 giving it a cordial pressure, " and this very consciousness 
 makes me ruder still. I know nothing of the little cour 
 tesies and gallantries which are the current coins of soci 
 ety, and I often offend when I most wish to please. There 
 are but two places where I feel perfectly at home, in a 
 great library and in the wild green woods. There, waves 
 of deep and solemn thought, roll in upon my soul and
 
 EOLINE J OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 73 
 
 drown the petty feelings born of the world. But they are 
 silent homes. The secret of expression is not found in 
 their dim aisles and solemn shade. I have not learned to 
 talk /" 
 
 " Then your knowledge comes by inspiration," said she, 
 laughing, " for you do talk very well. One of these days 
 I shall like to visit your two magnificent homes, with 
 you, and see the waves as they flow grandly along. Per 
 haps I can turn one little one out of its course towards 
 the thirsty void of my spirit. I think it will feel very 
 dry and sandy after being here six months longer." 
 
 "You must not remain here six months. I must find 
 you at Glenmore." 
 
 Eoline smiled, shook her head, and after a few more 
 kind and friendly words they parted. She immediately 
 sought Louisa, who, complaining of indisposition, had re 
 mained in her own room. 
 
 "He is gone, Louisa," she said, thoughtfully "and 
 now his coming and going seems a dream." 
 
 " Perhaps you will yet be willing to obey your father's 
 commands. Your prejudices already seem yielding." 
 
 " You are mistaken, Louisa. I ackno wledge that I have 
 not done him justice, and that he has noble qualities of 
 whose existence I had not dreamed. 1 may esteem him. 
 I do even now but as for love it is a feeling he never 
 could awaken. I may have very romantic ideas on the 
 subject, but they were born with me, and I cannot separate 
 them from my being, Love, with me, will be the light 
 ning's flash. A moment will decide my destiny. No, 
 no I never shall love Horace Cleveland. There are no 
 electric wires running along to bridge the abysmal distance 
 between our hearts. I wish you could have seen him 
 to-night, Louisa, when I was singing the song he said he 
 loved best of all. He said he loved music, too ; oh, so 
 much ! He sat cold and unmoved as a rock, though my
 
 74) EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 own voice was full of tears so sweet and pathetic were 
 the words." 
 
 " He might have felt, notwithstanding." 
 
 "He might have said one little word, for courtesy's 
 sweet sake but that is a mere matter of taste after all. 
 He manifested real and just feeling on the subject of my 
 alienation from home. I did not expect so much. He is 
 magnanimous too and there is a world of thought in 
 those unfathomable eyes." 
 
 " I think there is a world of feeling too, if I am any 
 judge of physiognomy," said Louisa, " though I had only 
 a glimpse of his countenance. But describe to me, Eoline, 
 if you can, the ideal being who is to come with the light 
 ning's bolt, and electrify that now insensible heart. 
 
 "I can feel what he must be," cried Eoline, her blue 
 eyes darkening as the vision passed before them " but I 
 fear I cannot describe. I speak not of him personally, for 
 I shall see his face and form in His mind and heart. He 
 must be a pillar of strength on which I can lean and cling 
 round in the storms of life. He must be the eagle in ambi 
 tion, and the eyrie of his soul near the sun ; and the dove 
 in tenderness, whose nest shall be lowly as my heart. 
 Then the love he bears me must be illimitable as the 
 Heavens, and boundless as the air. It must be firm as 
 the mountains, and unfathomable as the ocean. You 
 smile, Louisa as if I were only making a fine speech, 
 d-la-Manly, but they are the words of truth and soberness. 
 Bear with me a little longer, and I shall have done. Round 
 this marble pillar of strength the wild-vine of sensibility 
 must twine, the eagle must bear the myrtle in its talons, 
 and the dove carry the laurel to its downy nest. So must 
 all great and tender, and kind and glorious things blend 
 together, ennobling and softening each other, and forming 
 a perfect whole. No not quite perfect. He must have 
 some weaknesses, to sympathize with my poor humanity
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 75 
 
 And last of all, he must love me, not for beauty, not for 
 talent, not for goodness, for he might imagine them all 
 but just because I am Eoline. Good-night. Your mild 
 sad eyes seem to say 'Poor girl! how I pity her. Doom 
 ed to see her wild dreams turn to life's cold realities.' " 
 
 Such indeed was the language of Louisa's chastened 
 noughts. She believed truly, that there was but one Being 
 capable of, filling the boundlessness of the human heart, 
 but one pillar on which human weakness could lean se 
 curely, and that was the Rock of Ages.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Gradually the mild, Southern winter melted away into 
 vernal softness and bloom. So gradually, that the morning 
 twilight of spring brightened into its risen day before the 
 eye was conscious of the transition from leafless boughs and 
 a barren soil, to the wreathing foliage and the springing 
 grass. In no place in the world is awakening nature hailed 
 with such rapture, as in a female boarding school. In the 
 occasional freedom of the open air, in the midst of sun 
 light and flowers, the young prisoners forget the bondage 
 of in-door restraints, and indulge in the natural enjoyments 
 of childhood and youth. 
 
 As the first of May approached, the pupils of Magnolia 
 Vale Seminary pleaded eloquently for permission to select 
 a Queen, whose coronation rites should be celebrated by 
 the three immortal Graces, Poetry, Music and Youth. 
 There was the loveliest spot in the universe, not very far 
 from the seminary, irrigated by a beautiful creek, where 
 *he regal Magnolia bloomed, itself a Mayday Queen, wear 
 ing its pearly crown of glory, and the wild flowers revelled 
 in wanton luxuriance. There they could erect a coro 
 nation bower, and usher in that joyous month which lias 
 long worn the blooming honors of the year. 
 
 But Miss Manly shook her head with a majestic negation. 
 She could not listen to such a useless proposition. It was a 
 wretched waste of time, an innovation on her strict esta 
 blished rules. It would be an unpardonable interruption 
 to their studies, and retard their preparation for a public 
 examination. 
 
 " Besides," she exclaimed, " my republican principles 
 will not permit me to sanction these royal rites. I cannot 
 
 (76)
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 77 
 
 allow the daughters of our free-born land to ape the man 
 ners and customs of the poor vassals of European tyranny. 
 The Magnolia Vale Seminary is a democratic Institution, 
 and the germs of monarchy shall never be nurtured in its 
 bosom. 
 
 The Colonel spoke with patriotic energy, but the young 
 democrats still sighed for their Queen. At length, moved 
 by the united pleadings of Uncle Ben, Eoline, and Miss 
 More, she condescended to give them a holiday, with per 
 mission to pass it in the beautiful spot they had chosen for 
 the coronation. The children were wild with delight at 
 the prospect of a gala day, though disappointed in their 
 original plan. 
 
 The morning dawned without a cloud, though the sun 
 had set in darkness, and every one was sure it would rain, 
 for it always did rain when any out-door enjoyment was 
 anticipated. But the May sun shone bright and cheeringly 
 on the ungrateful little creatures, and they were soon ri 
 fting the garden of its roses, and filling their baskets, to 
 make garlands and bouquets in the woods. The baskets 
 were not entirely filled with roses, for their dinners were 
 in the bottom, but not a trace of the food was visible 
 through the flowery covering. A more ample provision still 
 was deposited in a small hand-carriage, drawn by a negro 
 girl, who delighted in being made a participator of the 
 holiday sport. Uncle Ben was to take charge of the juve 
 nile band. We verily believe he would have wept, had 
 any thing occurred to detain him at home, he was such a 
 pure lover of Nature and children. Eoline entered into 
 the spirit of the day with all the sweet enthusiasm of 
 youth, and even Louisa's pale face was lighted with the 
 glow of anticipation. 
 
 The pupils assembled on the green in front of the aca 
 demy, where Miss Manly, arranged them in military 
 file, and gave them a thousand instructions about march
 
 78 EOLINE } OE, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 ing, of preserving an erect carriage, and a lady-like de 
 portment. 
 
 " Come with us, Miss Manly," cried the children, smil 
 ing to think how funny Miss Manly would look running 
 about in the woods, and sitting under the Magnolia boughs. 
 The idea seemed as preposterous as for Jupiter to lay aside 
 his thunder-bolts and dance a polka with the Muses. 
 
 She waved her head with a superior smile, and giving 
 the signal for their departure, they commenced their march 
 with due dignity and deliberation, through the long, grand 
 alley, and continued it down the road, that is, as long as 
 they were within reach of the telescopic eye of Miss 
 Manly ; but the moment they turned into the greenwood 
 path, the path through the tall, odorous pine trees, the little 
 soldiers began to ^desert their ranks, and fly about, as 
 wild as a flock of pigeons. It was a royal avenue through 
 which they were winding, so cool, so breezy and shady, 
 that they ran with their sun-bonnets swinging in their 
 hands, under the tall, green umbrellas rustling Over their 
 heads. Uncle Ben frolicked and capered like a big boy 
 just let loose from school, and the girls stole his hat and 
 hid it in the little hand-wagon, making the negro girl 
 show her white teeth all round her head. Eoline, who 
 felt the bounding pulses of eighteen in all her veins, would 
 gladly have run on and shared in their frolics, but she would 
 not leave her feebler companion, whose flagging steps 
 showed the weariness her lips concealed. 
 
 " I cannot bear to have you fettered by me," said Louisa, 
 gratefully, " you who are so tireless and buoyant. It is 
 as bad as chaining a bird to a snail." 
 
 " I shall have time enough to fly after we reach there," 
 said Eoline, putting her arm round Louisa's slender waist. 
 " I wish you were well and strong for your own sake, but 
 I should not love you as well. The plant that we nurse 
 Is the plant that we love. But look, we are almost there.
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 79 
 
 See that beautiful opening. And hark, the roar of the 
 mill-dam mingles with the shouts of the children." 
 
 A few moments brought them to the vale from which 
 the seminary derived its name the Magnolia Vale and 
 a peculiar and intense odor proclaimed the presence of this 
 magnificent tree of the South. With its long, deep green, 
 lustrous leaves, and large, splendid white blossoms, white 
 as marble, yet yielding and impressible as wax, it stood the 
 representative of the floral beauty and grandeur of a South 
 ern latitude. And on the margin of the water, wading in 
 it up to their immense knees, the Tupeloes bowed their 
 spreading branches and looked at each other in the clear, 
 blue stream. This stream, which flowed just above over 
 a rocky channel that partially impeded its current, here 
 expanded into a kind of lake, vulgarly called a mill-pond, 
 because the utilitarians had made the babbling waters work 
 for their living, and erected a dam near the bed of 
 rocks, and a mill on the opposite bank. The vale was 
 carpeted with grass, and embroidered with wild flowers, 
 and under almost every tree there were low ottomans, 
 made by Nature herself, and covered with green velvet, 
 woven by the same great manufacturer. 
 
 Eoline led Louisa to one of these velvet ottomans, and 
 reclined on the grass at her feet. And now there were 
 mysterious groups, with heads put close together in grave 
 consultation, and then a dispersion and a gathering again. 
 They made Eoline turn her back to a certain natural arbor, 
 and promise not to look behind her till a given signal. 
 
 " Remember Lot's wife," said Fanny. 
 
 " And the fate of Orpheus," cried Selma. 
 
 " Or the wife of Bluebeard," exclaimed Annie ; as tJey 
 retreated, carrying off Uncle Ben captive. For nearly an 
 hour, Eoline, obedient to her promise, sat at the feet of 
 Louisa, with her arm upon her lap, and her affectionate, 
 confiding eyes lifted to her face, listening to her gentle
 
 80 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 words, when sly footsteps stole behind, and a mischievous 
 pair of hands bandaged her eyes. 
 
 "Come with us," cried half-a-dozen voices, "and when 
 we seat you again we will restore you to sight." 
 
 Yielding with graceful willingness to her laughing guides, 
 Eoline was led over the soft grass to a slight elevation. 
 She knew it was under a tree, for she could hear the branches 
 rustling overhead. 
 
 " Now bow your head, lady fair, just a little," cried her 
 conductors, gently seating her; "and now," added they, 
 slipping the bandage from her eyes, " hail to your flowery 
 throne !" 
 
 Eoline found herself in an arbor, within an arbor, formed 
 of freshly-gathered boughs, and festooned with garlands of 
 wild flowers. A cluster of large magnolia blosioms was 
 placed just over her head, and golden wreaths of yellow 
 jessamine, fastened near that central crown, and extending 
 to the edge of the lightly woven roof, formed the brilliant 
 radi of the lattice-work. The young girls, who all wore 
 simple, white dresses, the Sunday Summer uniform of the 
 seminary, (as it was a holiday, they were permitted to 
 wear it,) had garlands of flowers round their heads, arranged 
 with a wild grace that was bewitching, Fanny, whose 
 ringlets were playing holiday with the breeze, held in her 
 hand a crown of white rose buds, with which she encircled 
 the brow of Eoline. Selma threw a garland of roses round 
 her neck, and little Bessie Bell, kneeling at her feet, stuck 
 flowers all round the binding of her shoes, while half-a- 
 dozen little creatures pelted her with roses. 
 
 " We will have a Queen of May !" they cried. " You 
 shall be our Queen ! This is your throne, and we are your 
 subjects, and Uncle Ben is, too. He helped us build our 
 bower, and we promised him that our Queen should sing 
 for him, as soon as she mounted her throne." 
 
 " Shall is a strange word to use to a Queen," said the
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 81 
 
 laughing, blushing Eoline, almost crushed with her bloom 
 ing honors, " but as you have given me no sceptre, I sup 
 pose I must not claim absolute command." 
 
 Away ran one of the girls, and catching with a jump a 
 drooping bough, twisted round it the flowering jessamine, 
 and presented it to her Floral Majesty. Eoline did, in 
 deed, look like the royal bride of Spring, in her white rai 
 ment and regal blossoms, while sw*eeter and fairer than 
 these regal blossoms were the roses of youth and health, 
 made brighter by excitement, that bloomed upon her 
 cheeks. She could not help feeling happy, thus loved and 
 honored. Existence itself was a joy on such a day as this. 
 Had she been alone on that charming spot alone, with 
 all that loveliness, she would have felt happy, and thanked 
 her God for making her the denizen of so fair a world. 
 But the beautiful, loving children and fair young girls that 
 surrounded her, gave such life and enchantment to the 
 scene, that her soul was ready to gush forth in the melody 
 for which they were pleading. Just as she opened her 
 lips, she cast her eyes towards the spot she had quitted 
 blindfold, and there Louisa sat, her head leaning on her 
 hand, forgotten in the bright and jubilant scene. 
 
 "Poor, dear Louisa!" exclaimed Eoline, "we have left 
 her alone. How sorry I am we did not think of her 
 sooner !" 
 
 Forsaking her vernal throne, she flew to her neglected 
 friend, and insisted that she should share 'her honors. 
 Louisa turned away her tearful eyes, but she did not re 
 sist the arm that encircled hers. She could not mar the 
 happiness that beamed in the blue eyes of Eoline. She 
 had felt, for a moment, the demon of Envy breathing its 
 venom into her heart, but an invisible angel came and 
 strengthened her, and she met with smiles the children 
 who had unconsciously forsaken her. They loved hei, 
 but they did not associate her in thought with the 
 75
 
 82 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 flowers of Spring, as they did the bright and beautiftu 
 Eoline. 
 
 " Oh, that I were a boy !" cried Uncle Ben, who was 
 sitting on the ground in the midst of the children. They 
 had made a crown of magnolia leaves, and put it on his 
 head, and pinned a tremendous bouquet in front of his 
 vest. " Oh, that I were a little boy a pretty little school 
 boy again instead of being a musty old bachelor !" 
 
 " What's the reason you never married, Uncle Ben 1" 
 asked little Bessie, looking slyly in his face. 
 
 "What's the reason'?" repeated he, smelling his huge 
 bouquet. " Why, I loved every body so much, I could 
 not make up my mind to love but one at a time ; and then 
 I thought I should keep young as long as I lived, and that 
 there was no use in being in a hurry, when, one morning, 
 would you believe it, pussies, I waked up and found my 
 self an old man !" 
 
 " Oh, no, you are not an old man, Uncle Ben, you can 
 run so fast and spring so light. You are the youngest of 
 all of us." 
 
 "So I am!" exclaimed he, jumping up and crossing 
 his feet twice in the air, " who says 1 am old 1 It's no 
 such thing I am nothing but a boy, after all !" 
 
 Eoline's warbling voice brought the boy back to his 
 grassy seat. She felt inspired by the influences surround 
 ing her, and never sung so wild, so sweet a strain. The 
 very mill-dam seemed to hush its roaring, for no one heard 
 it while she was singing. She was not afraid to give full 
 scope to her voice, with such a sounding-board above her 
 as that blue arch, and the notes went up, and still up, till 
 the ear feared to follow them, lest the clear, crystal sounds 
 should'break and shiver like glass ; then, gliding, floating 
 lower and lower, with the softness of down, they died 
 away among the flowers. 
 
 All at once, changing her key, she struck into a gay,
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 83 
 
 flute-like warble, that set the children dancing round her, 
 like magic. Fanny Darling had a long garland twined 
 round a grape-vine, which she skipped as she danced, and 
 a lovelier looking fairy never flitted over the green. 
 
 At this moment, a beautiful dog ran in their midst, and 
 seizing one of the wicker baskets in his teeth, was about 
 to carry off his prey, when a young man, who appeared to 
 be his master, emerged from a cluster of trees, at a little 
 distance, and approaching the bower, motioned the dog to 
 return the stolen treasure. Eoline ceased her warbling, 
 the dancers stood still, and Uncle Ben sprang from the 
 ground, and removed from his head its Bacchus-like orna 
 ment. 
 
 "Do not let me disturb you," said the young man, 
 lifting his hat from his head, with a low and graceful bow, 
 " I trust you will pardon my intrusion. I would apologize 
 for the rudeness of my dog, and for my own too," added 
 he, looking towards Eoline, "in pausing beneath those 
 trees to listen to strains which left me no power to pass 
 on. The temptation was too irresistible. Ami forgiven!" 
 cried he, again looking at Eoline, who, conscious of the 
 strange picturesqueness of her appearance, blushed amid 
 her roses, while she involuntarily bowed her head before 
 his appealing glance. Then turning to the children, with 
 another, though less reverent bow, he smilingly repeated, 
 "Am I forgiven 1" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Bessie Bell, who was nearest to him, 
 and on whom his eye happened to rest, "yes, sir," making 
 the prettiest little curtsy in the world. The girls laughed a 
 her demure answer, and the stranger was thus put perfect!} 
 at his ease. Indeed, he did not appear embarrassed from 
 the first, but probably thought he had as much right to 
 enjoy the beauties of nature as they had. He was singu 
 larly engaging in appearance. His dark hair floweo back 
 with a graceful wave from his white forehead, ana poetry
 
 84 . EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 and enthusiasm flashed from his large, dark, romantic- 
 beaming eye. 
 
 Uncle Ben, who was the politest man in the universe, 
 and who was charmed with the countenance of the young 
 stranger, assured him that it was no intrusion at all, and 
 that he was very happy to see him. He even offered him 
 the ground to sit down upon, as courteously as if it were & 
 chair. But there was something in the countenance of 
 Eoline, the Fairy Queen of the scene, that forbade the 
 young man to take advantage of Uncle Ben's cordiality. 
 She knew too well Miss Manly's strict rules of propriety, 
 to encourage even by a look, the continuance of a stran 
 ger's presence in the midst of her pupils. She regretted 
 the syren notes which had lured him to their retreat, and 
 looking gravely down, avoided meeting a second time 
 the lustrous glance that had rested so admiringly upon 
 her. 
 
 " Fido," said the young man, calling to his dog that was 
 sticking Us nose rather too familiarly into the dinner-bas 
 ket " let us go, before you destroy your master's reputa 
 tion for honesty. We are indeed intruders in this charming 
 group. Once more, I trust, my impassioned love of music 
 will plead my apology." 
 
 Again the young man bowed with lowly grace, and 
 smiling on little Bessie, who had so heartily promised him 
 forgiveness, passed under the shadow of the magnolia trees 
 into the path that led to the mill-dam. 
 
 This was an adventure, and it put a check for a time to 
 their unrestrained merriment. They all felt curious to 
 know who the young stranger was, and the children were 
 loud in his praises. As Eoline would not sing any more, 
 and they could not dance, they became suddenly conscious 
 of being very hungry and Netty, the black girl, who had 
 never left her carriage for a moment, was called into im- 
 snediate service. A nice table-cloth was spread upon the
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 85 
 
 grass, and cakes and pies, cold ham and pickles, all gar 
 nished with flowers, soon covered its surface. 
 
 " We ought to have asked that young gentleman to dine 
 with us," said little Bessie, " and his dog too. It seems to 
 me, it was rude to let him go." 
 
 " So it does to me," cried Uncle Ben, slapping a pie, as 
 
 was the first thing he came in contact with "little 
 
 Bess is right 1 did mean to ask him, but young Madam 
 
 Queen looked so grave, I was afraid of offending her 
 
 majesty." 
 
 " It would have displeased Miss Manly," said Eoline, 
 regretting herself their apparent inhospitality. 
 
 " Oh, the Colonel I had forgotten " exclaimed Uncle 
 Ben. 
 
 The company around the grassy board became very 
 merry, and the tongues so silent at the long table of Mag 
 nolia Vale Seminary, revelled in freedom in Magnolia 
 Vale. No matter what was said, a laugh was sure to break 
 forth. 
 
 At length Darling Fanny, who had stolen Eohne's 
 comb, and tucked up all her hair, excepting two long curls, 
 which she left dangling at the sides, like Miss Manly, 
 suddenly elevated her head with a dignified motion, and 
 exclaimed 
 
 " Young ladies, Charlemagne." 
 
 The mimicry was perfect, and the effect electrical. Un 
 cle Ben actually threw himself back and rolled on the 
 grass and even Louisa could not help laughing. 
 
 " Order !" exclaimed Fanny, with much gravity. " Miss 
 Selma, what can you tell me of Charlemagne 1" 
 
 " Charlemagne means great Charles," replied Selma. 
 
 " I don't like Charlemagne, because he made his daugh 
 ters work so hard," said Annie. " If I were a princess, I 
 would not spin or weave. Let us talk of William the 
 Conqueror."
 
 86 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "I don't like William the Conqueror," said another, 
 " Because he kept a Doomsday Book, like Miss Manly's." 
 
 " And he made folks go to bed before they were sleepy, 
 at the ringing of a bell, as we have to do," cried a young 
 creature, always wakeful with mischief. 
 
 " I like Alfred the Great the best," said a fat, laughing 
 girl, who dispatched the pies with wonderful celerity, 
 " because he knew how to bake nice cakes." 
 
 " I like Uncle Ben the Great, the best," exclaimed little 
 Bessie, who sat next to him, " because he gives me nice cakes." 
 
 This was received with acclamation. Uncle Ben of 
 course was expected to contribute his mite to the reservoir 
 of juvenile wit. 
 
 " Why am I like Priam of old 1" said he. "Do you give 
 it up 1 He was father to fifty sons, and I am uncle to fifty 
 daughters ?" 
 
 "Hush," cried Eoline, laying her hand suddenly on his 
 shoulder. A deep mellow voice came floating in music, 
 across the mill-dam. Rising in rich, manly tones, it was 
 borne over the water with the winding sweetness of the 
 bugle. It was one of the airs Eoline had been singing, 
 and she knew the singer must be the stranger who had just 
 addressed them. A thrill of delight penetrated her spirit 
 at the sound of those exquisite notes, that seemed so much 
 like the echo of her own. 
 
 "Oh! how sweet," she exclaimed, when they melted 
 into silence, after a low flute-like cadenza, "how more 
 than sweet !" 
 
 Louisa smiled, and whispered to her, 
 
 "Do you feel the lightning's flash 1" 
 
 " No," said Eoline, drawing a long inspiration, " but I 
 feel the breath of Heaven on my soul." 
 
 There was silence for a few moments. That voice, like 
 " the far-off, exquisite music of a dream," proceeding from 
 an invisible minstrel, and thus having the charm of mys-
 
 EOLINE J OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 87 
 
 fery added to its melody, created a feeling of sadness. It 
 belonged less to earth than Heaven and Heaven with all 
 its glories is a subject of sadness to the young and glowing 
 heart. It knows that the path to Heaven leads through the 
 grave, and shrinks from the coldness and darkness and gloom 
 of the passage. But there are shadows in life darker than 
 death, deeper than the grave and when they are folded 
 round the spirit, it passes on untrembling, protected by the 
 clouds that envelop it. This is a sad reflection in the 
 midst of all these flowers and vernal beauty. But it seemed 
 that there was a shadow lingering, ready to roll down upon 
 them. 
 
 A cloud, a very small cloud began to float near the hori 
 zon. First it was white as snow, and no larger than the 
 wing of a bird, then its base became a faint slate-color, 
 then it suddenly enlarged and darkened, and rose up like 
 a tall castle, with giant pillars and leaning turrets. Then 
 it expanded into the giant's causeway itself, and dark figures 
 seemed hurrying near its base. 
 
 "It will rain," said Eoline, looking anxiously at the 
 darkening horizon, " we must hasten our departure. Louisa 
 must not get wet." | 
 
 The children were sure it would not rain, it was nothing 
 but a cloud such as they saw every evening; but even 
 Uncle Ben, who was not remarkable for foresight, insisted 
 upon their hastening homeward. As they had but few 
 preparations to make, and Miss Manly was not there to 
 put them into military array, they were soon on the wing, 
 Netty following with the fragments of the feast, and a cast 
 away garland on her woolly head. The prospect of being 
 caught in the rain was perfectly delightful to the children, 
 and Eoline cared not for herself. It was for the frail and 
 delicate Louisa she trembled who hurried on as much as 
 her strength would allow, though her flushed cheek and 
 panting breath showed it was nearly exhausted.
 
 88 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 They had hardly reached the beautiful pillared aisles ot 
 the pine wood, before big drops came splashing down faster 
 and faster, till they suddenly fell in sheeted rain. There 
 was no shelter near but the pine trees, whose lofty plumes 
 were a far better protection from the sun than the shower. 
 The children shouted and ran, and bared their flower-bound 
 ringlets, and tossed out their arms as if to embrace the rain, 
 which wrapped them as if with a mantle. Their white 
 dresses were drenched and soiled their flowers crushed 
 and torn their hair dripping and straight. A few who 
 had green parasols, as useless as a magnolia leaf would 
 have been, were discolored with green stains that not only 
 mottled their white frocks but rosy cheeks. Netty toiled 
 on after them, manfully pulling the little carriage, though 
 the remnant pies and cakes were reduced to a mass of 
 jelly by the deluge. 
 
 " Oh, if that carriage was only big enough to put you 
 in, dear Louisa!" cried Eoline, as Louisa sunk down upon 
 a bank by the way-side, declaring that she could go no 
 farther. 
 
 "I wiH carry you in my arms," said Uncle Ben, "I am 
 strong enough to carry you all." 
 
 " No, no, leave me here, I ought not to have come to 
 be such an incumb ranee. When the rain is over I can 
 follow." 
 
 . 
 
 "Here is an umbrella, if it will be of any service,'' 
 cried a mellow voice near them. 
 
 And turning round, they beheld the young stranger, with 
 his silky-haired dog. As the rain was pursuing them they 
 had not looked behind, and were not aware of his ap 
 proach. He was panting from haste, and his face glowing 
 with exercise and excitement. 
 
 " Thank you," said Eoline, to whom the stranger evi 
 dently addressed himself. " If you will shelter my friend,
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 89 
 
 I shall indeed be grateful. As to the rest of us, it is no 
 thing but pastime." 
 
 Eoline looked at this moment as if she were born to 
 make pastime of the most warring elements of nature. 
 One of the girls, as we said before, had stolen her comb, 
 while they were at their rural dinner, and her hair, wet 
 and darkened with the rain, floated wildly over her shoul 
 ders. The floral diadem still encircled her brow, and par 
 tially confined her wandering locks ; as it was formed of 
 evergreen, and half-unfolded buds, it was not rent and 
 defaced by the shower, as the more carelessly arranged 
 chaplets of the children were. Eoline was fair and beau 
 tiful in repose, but in moments of excitement she was 
 splendidly so. She was kneeling on one knee, her arm 
 supporting her half-fainting friend, and her eyes were 
 raised eagerly to the stranger's face. She looked, through 
 the falling rain, like a flower enshrined in crystal. 
 
 " It will cover you both," said the young man, going 
 behind them, and kneeling so as to bring the umbrella 
 nearer to them, as a shelter. As he thus held it over 
 their heads, exposing his own to the elements, they formed 
 a romantic looking group. 
 
 " I cannot suffer this," said Louisa, raising her head from 
 Eoline's shoulder. "I feel better, stronger. I can walk 
 on alone, now." 
 
 " If you can walk," said the young man, assisting her 
 at the same time to rise, " you will be in far less danger, 
 than on the wet ground. There is no house nearer than 
 the mill, which you have left behind." 
 
 The violence of the shower had subsided, so that Louisa 
 found less difficulty in forcing a path through it. The 
 young man walked by their side, holding the umbrella, 
 and he even took off his hat, and held it before Eoline's 
 face, in spite of her laughing remonstrances. Though 
 poor Louisa was the chief sufferer, he seemed far more
 
 90 EOL1NE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 anxious to shield Eoline from the inclemencies of th 
 atmosphere. 
 
 " Never mind me," she would say " I am a child of 
 the elements. My name is Eoline, and when the winds 
 play around me, I feel, indeed, like an eolian lyre." 
 
 "Eoline Eoline," repeated the young man, "what 
 charming name. How appropriate, how peculiar." 
 
 " I was named after the eolian harp," she said, forget 
 ting for the moment, that she was addressing a stranger. 
 "It was my mother's passion and well do I remember 
 hearing one playing in her window the night of her death. 
 So mournfully, wildly and sweet I never, never shall 
 forget it." 
 
 "You inherit, then, your love of music," cried the young 
 man, with animation. " In that respect we are congenial, 
 for I have breathed an atmosphere of harmony from my 
 infancy. My parents are both musicians, and I was 
 taught to play upon the organ before I could reach an 
 octave." 
 
 " She is our music teacher," said Bessie Bell, who run 
 ning back for her bonnet, that she had dropped far behind, 
 overheard the remark, and was proud to proclaim the rela 
 tive position of Eoline towards herself. 
 
 Eoline colored high. To be introduced to this very 
 aristocratic looking young man as a music teacher she, 
 the daughter of Mr. Glenmore, of Glenmore Place struck 
 her painfully. She tried to repress her swelling pride, but 
 it would rise, and gave to her countenance an air of haugh- 
 * iness and reserve. 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed the young man, as Bessie was 
 bounding along. "I thought her one of your school 
 companions, whom you had been crowning Queen of 
 May." 
 
 " We made her Queen, because she is so pretty, and be 
 cause we love her so much," said the child.
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 91 
 
 The young man looked as if he sympathized in then 
 opinion, though he said nothing. 
 
 Eoline, whose thoughts were carried back to her de 
 serted home, her banishing father, and Horace Cleveland, 
 walked on in silence, with a cloud resting on her sunny 
 face. She felt uneasy in the prospect of Miss Manly's 
 displeasure, in bringing a stranger to the gates of the 
 seminary j or rather, of its manifestation in such a man 
 ner as to make her ashamed of the relation she bore to 
 the institution. She was grateful to his politeness it was 
 more than politeness it was kindness, for he had offered 
 his arm to the drooping Louisa, the latter part of the way, 
 and sustained her weary footsteps. 
 
 Uncle Ben trudged on before with the children, his red 
 silk handkerchief tied over the top of his hat, and his 
 coat collar turned up above his ears. The young romps 
 were completely jaded and sobered when they arrived at 
 the seminary. The rain had ceased, but it only made 
 their muddy and forlorn appearance more conspicuous. 
 Their shoes were filled with sand, for they had rushed 
 along without choosing a path, and their dresses heavy and 
 saturated with the rain. 
 
 Miss Manly stood in the folding doors, with uplifted 
 hands. 
 
 " Take off your shoes," she cried, not loud, but deep, 
 " leave them in the portico. Don't bring all this mud into 
 the house. What a spectacle ! Never ask for another 
 holiday. It is always the end of such follies. Wring the 
 water out of the bottom of your dresses before you enter. 
 Hang your wet bonnets on the railing." 
 
 She really seemed half-distracted at the thought of the 
 mud and confusion around her, for her love of neatness 
 was second only to her love of authority. But the rueful 
 countenances of the children, which began to have a blue 
 tinge the moment they ceased to exercise the shivers
 
 92 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 which ran through their drenched frames, excited her 
 compassion. 
 
 " Run," she cried, " yes, you may run up stairs, this 
 time, and change your wet clothes, directly. I will have 
 some warm drink prepared. Never mind the tracks. 
 
 Never before had they rushed by Miss Manly in such a 
 style. They scampered up stairs in their wet stockings, 
 like a covey of partridges, leaving Miss Manly gazing on 
 the advancing figure of the stranger, who was conducting 
 the two young ladies up the gravel walk. Louisa could 
 scarcely drag one weary foot after the other, and her lace 
 was hueless as marble. Eoline turned towaius the young 
 man, when, after having ascended the steps, they stood in 
 front of Miss Manly, and said 
 
 " This gentleman has been kind enough to shelter us 
 with his umbrella, and assist Miss More, who, even with 
 his aid, has been scarcely able to reach home." 
 
 The young stranger made so handsome and reverential 
 a bow to the tall and stately lady, that she extended her 
 hand graciously to receive the card he placed in it. 
 
 "Walk in, Mr. St. Leon," said she, glancing at the 
 card, and repeating the name, as if it had an aristocratic 
 sound to her ears "though according to the rules of my 
 institution, strangers are excluded from its portals, who do 
 not bring letters of introduction, the services you have 
 rendered these young ladies, who are under my especial 
 guardianship, entitle you to my gratitude and consider 
 ation." 
 
 "Thank you, madam," said St. Leon, (we are glad 
 we have discovered his name, as it is very awkward to 
 speak of him as the young man, and the stranger,) "I 
 am in no condition to sit down in a lady's parlor. I 
 will take the liberty of calling to-morrow, and inquiring 
 after the health of these young ladies, who, I fear, will 
 uffer from their long exposure."
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 93 
 
 Bowing again, while Miss Manly emulated his polite 
 ness by bending over him, he departed, though not without 
 i farewell glance at Eoline. 
 
 Louisa had said that Miss Manly was kind in sickness, 
 and she proved the truth of the remark in her tender 
 "ares of the exhausted girl, whose gentleness and humility 
 had endeared her to one whose authority she had never 
 disputed, and whose wishes she always seemed anxious 
 to anticipate. She almost carried her to her chamber in 
 her arms, assisted in undressing her, and establishing her 
 in dry sheets, and then brought her a tumbler of warm 
 sangaree, and bathed her temples with cologne. 
 
 " I said she had no heart," repeated Eoline, to herself. 
 " I have wronged her. She really looks amiable, minister 
 ing with a woman's tenderness to one so meek and fragile. 
 Her character seems made of stripes, like a dress I saw 
 her wear the other day with a thick heavy stripe of 
 satin, and then one of the thinnest gauze. There is no 
 softening into each other the edges are all hard. 
 
 Then the thought of St. Leon, the interesting sttanger, 
 and the dazzling glances of his lustrous dark eyes. How 
 mellow was his voice, and how graceful his motions, how 
 winning his manners ! St. Leon ! it was a charming name, 
 and suited well its engaging owner. She thought of 
 Horace Cleveland, and wondered how he would have deport 
 ed himself in such a scene. She laughed at the idea of 
 Horace kneeling on the wet ground and bolding an um 
 brella over their heads. 
 
 " And yet," thought she, " he looks far more like one 
 who could shelter and protect from the storm and wind 
 than this slender, handsome St. Leon. Horace is the oak, 
 whose boughs play not with the breeze, nor bow before 
 the tempest. St. Leon, the graceful willow, whose pliant 
 branches sway in every zephyr. Horace would never 
 have thought of taking off his hat to screen me from the
 
 94 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 rain, though, if real danger approached, he might interpose 
 his body as a rampart. 
 
 Louisa was the only sufferer from the rainy walk. Eoline 
 and the children, like spring flowers, blossomed more beau 
 tifully and brightly after their vernal baptism ; but poor 
 Louisa bowed her head like a lily overcharged with dew, 
 and had not strength to lift it for several days. And now 
 she was able to understand that though less admired than 
 Eoline, she was equally beloved. The same hands that 
 almost smothered the beautiful Eoline with coronation flow 
 ers, without twining one garland for her pale and then 
 neglected brow, now ministered to her weakness, and alle 
 viated her sufferings. 
 
 " Oh, how ungrateful I have been," said she, to Eoline. 
 "Yesterday, when I saw you enthroned in your regal 
 bower, the object of such adoring homage, while I was 
 left forgotten and alone, I sighed, not for the honors and 
 adulations which were your due, but at the thought that I 
 was unloved. Oh, it was a cold, icy cold thought, colder 
 than the rain from which you sought to shelter me so 
 kindly. I find there are other flowers, as sweet as May 
 day blossoms, which the hand of affection may entwine, 
 and whose fragrance may penetrate the inmost heart. God 
 is merciful in giving me a feeble frame, he has also 
 given me a claim on the sympathy and tenderness of others, 
 feelings of which love is born. He does not forget us, 
 even when we forget ourselves." 
 
 Happy they, who, by a divine alchemy, can extract the 
 balm of consolation from the bitter ingredients of human 
 suffering. 
 
 The evening after the holiday, St. Leon called, and was 
 
 received by Miss Manly with unusual graciousness. There 
 
 was something so deferential in his manners, so winning 
 
 .n his appearance, he at once disarmed her of the hercu- 
 
 ean club of formality, with which she ban shed all stran-
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 95 
 
 gers from her portals who were not furnished with the 
 proper credentials Eoline had not forgotten the enchant 
 ing strains wafted over the waters of the creek, and she 
 longed once more to listen to a voice of more than manly 
 melody. St. Leon, who seemed to be an enthusiast in 
 music, the moment he caught a glimpse of the harp, flew 
 towards it, and exclaimed 
 
 " Ah ! this is indeed a treasure! Do you play, madam 1" 
 asked he, adroitly turning to Miss Manly. 
 
 " I am not a great practitioner," she replied, smilingly, 
 " though I flatter myself I am something of a connoisseur. 
 I do my playing chiefly by proxy. If you are fond of 
 music, I can promise you that Miss Glenmore will not re 
 fuse to administer to your gratification." 
 
 "Fond of music!" cried he, enthusiastically, "I adore 
 it. It was the idol of my boyhood the passion of my 
 manhood. Will Miss Glenmore indeed gratify me so 
 highly 1" added he, uncovering the instrument, and draw 
 ing it towards her. As he did so, he ran his hand over the 
 wires, with a practiced touch. 
 
 " Certainly," replied she, seating herself with graceful 
 readiness, " but you will find my compliance arises from 
 very selfish motives the hope of reward. Mr. St. Leon,' 
 continued she, turning to Miss Manly, " is a musician him 
 self, and added an unexpected charm to our holiday plea 
 sures, by the music of a voice which it is only justice to 
 say I have never heard equalled." 
 
 St. Leon colored with delight. Eoline spoke of a 
 sweet voice in singing, as she would of a magnolia blos 
 som. It was a beautiful gift of God, and the owner had 
 no cause for vanity or pride. She knew that she possessed 
 this gift herself, and she was grateful for it. Her mother, 
 a lovely, pious woman, used to tell her, when she was a 
 child, that she must praise God for having given her a 
 voice to sing His praise j that the angels sang divine hymn*
 
 95 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 to their golden harps, and that one day her ar gel child 
 would be enrolled in that glorious choir. Eoline never 
 seated herself at the harp without remembering the words 
 of the mother, whose spirit-tongue now warbled the melo 
 dies of eternity. She never liked to play upon it any but 
 holy anthems. It seemed sacrilege to her to mingle with 
 the sacred associations of her childhood, the light and fash 
 ionable songs of the day. The instrument which the arch 
 angels waked to hosannas of glory, which the minstrel 
 monarch swept with adoring hand, and which her mother 
 assimilated to the lyre of the seraphim, was hallowed in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Will you accompany me in this 1" said she, commenc 
 ing part of an oratorio. 
 
 He immediately began one of the most melodious 
 seconds, that flowed in under her clear rich soprano, like 
 a fountain gushing beneath the surface of a stream, and 
 mingling with its waves. Or, rather, her voice was the 
 fountain, sending up its bright silvery wreaths to the sun 
 shine; his, the waters, murmuring in the deep reservoir 
 below. 
 
 Eoline was charmed; St. Leon inspired. They sang 
 again and again and never did voices harmonize so per 
 fectly. They melted into each other as softly and as 
 richly as the strains of the eolian lyre whose name she 
 bore. At length she paused and leaned against the harp 
 for its chords, so sweet to the ear, are anything but down 
 to the touch. St. Leon then seated himself at the piano, 
 and the keys flashed under his flying fingers. Miss Manly 
 was in ecstasies. Her curls flew from one side to the 
 other, in her effort to keep time with his rapid movements. 
 
 "What a talent you have, Mr. St. Leon!" she ex 
 claimed ; " I cannot but regret that you do not make music 
 your profession for then I should be tempted to secure 
 your services as a vocalist "
 
 EOLINE; OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 97 
 
 St. Leon turned round quickly, with a bright smile. 
 
 " Supposing it were my profession, would you inaeed 
 desire my services, when you have such a world of music 
 in Miss Glenmore 1" 
 
 " Miss Glenmore's voice is admirable," she replied, " but 
 with a fine male voice in addition, we could make the 
 most splendid singing classes that were ever heard in a 
 Female Institution. Such a second as yours would make 
 the fortune of any one who is not already lifted above its 
 caprices." 
 
 People who know little of music, always talk enthusi 
 astically of seconds, thinking it has a scientific sound. 
 
 St. Leon rose from the piano, aud eagerly approached 
 Miss Manly. 
 
 " Though I cannot say that I have made music my pro 
 fession, yet if you think my voice can be of any assistance 
 in your Institution, Miss Manly" here he made one of 
 his peculiarly graceful bows " believe me, it is at your 
 service, at all times and all hours." 
 
 " Indeed, sir," replied Miss Manly, hardly knowing how 
 to understand an offer, which seemed so gratuitous in ex 
 pression, but delighted with the manner in which it was 
 made " I never imagined such a thing possible, when I 
 made the suggestion. But if you are indeed willing to 
 become a coadjutor in the charming science of music, may 
 . I ask on what terms I can enlist your vocal powers 1" 
 
 " Oh, it is of no consequence," he answered, with some 
 confusion; "I will leave that entirely to yourself; it can 
 be arranged hereafter. I am something of a traveller, but 
 have no objection to rest a while in your beautiful valley 
 I would rather have some kind of employment than re 
 main a mere idler. If you indeed desire it, I shall con 
 sider myself highly honored to be associated with an Insti 
 tution which combines so many rare attractions." 
 
 He addressed Miss Manly, but his glance in conclusion 
 76
 
 98 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 was directed towards Eoline. Miss Manly did not per 
 ceive this for she had already commenced a bow of ac 
 knowledgment, or she would not have felt so much 
 gratified at the compliment. Eoline listened with surprise 
 and embarrassment, to an arrangement which would bring 
 her in such close companionship with a stranger. She 
 was astonished that Miss Manly, with her iron rules and 
 inflexible formality, should have courted a proposition she 
 would have thought foreign to all her ideas of propriety. 
 But Miss Manly was not that strange anomaly, a woman 
 without a heart, which Eoline had at first supposed her to 
 be. She had a heart, though covered with a coat of mail. 
 It might be supposed that a Goliah or a Sampson would 
 be more likely to pierce through its steel panoply, than 
 this young, romantic-looking stranger ; but it is certain, 
 that she had never looked upon mortal man with the same 
 favor which he, at the first glance, had won. Though her 
 extraordinary height, and the still more extraordinary airs 
 of command which she assumed, gave her an appearance 
 of fuller maturity she was not more than five-and twenty, 
 Though passed the vernal equinox of youth, she had not 
 reached the summer solstice of womanhood. St. Leon 
 had those dangerous, langui shingly brilliant eyes, that 
 seemed "to love whate'er they looked upon," and when 
 he fixed those eyes upon her face, making the earnest offer 
 of his services, she could not help thinking he was inspired 
 by no common interest in the Principal of the Magnolia 
 Vale Seminary. She had no mean estimate of her own 
 attractions. If nature had not endowed her with the 
 beauty of a Venus, she believed herself possessed of the 
 majesty of a Juno, the purity of a Diana, and the wisdom 
 of a Pallas. 
 
 "If you will call to-morrow morning, Mr. St. Leon," 
 said she, with dignified affability, " at about eleven o'clock,
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE, 99 
 
 the hour of recess, I shall be extremely happy to make the 
 necessary arrangements on this very interesting subject." 
 St. Leon called, the arrangements were made, and his 
 name added to the list of instructors in the Magnolia Vale 
 Seminary. The young misses were highly pleased with 
 this addition to the faculty, and Eoline felt a charm 
 thrown around the lessons by the fascinations of his 
 voice and manner, unknown before. As they were ar 
 ranged at those hours when Miss Manly could sanction 
 them by her majestic presence, Eoline was spared those 
 feelings of embarrassment which might arise from being 
 associated so intimately with so young and handsome a 
 man. There was a mystery about him that added to the 
 interest he inspired. She was certain -that he was as un 
 accustomed to labor for others as herself, and that what 
 ever motives induced him to assume the position which he 
 now occupied, he was born to affluence and rank. He did 
 not board in the seminary, but there was always some ex 
 cuse for bringing him there in the evening, a piece of new 
 music to practice, a string of Eoline's harp or guitar to 
 mend, or some new book to read to Miss Manly. He was 
 a universal favorite, from the dignified principal to the 
 smallest child in the establishment. As we said before, he 
 had those mild, expressive eyes, that seemed to rain love 
 and sunshine on all; and all the sweet and graceful cour 
 tesies of life, which Horace Cleveland had slighted from 
 his boyhood, St. Leon was ever ready to offer. In their 
 walks, if Louisa's steps nagged from weariness, his arm 
 was always extended for her support ; when Miss Manly 
 commenced her brilliant harangues, he gave her the most 
 respectful attention, yet it was evident that Eoline was 
 the inspiration of all his actions, evident to all but Miss 
 Manly, who still continued strong in her first impression, 
 that deep and admiring reverence for herself was the 
 charm that bound him to Magnolia Vale.
 
 100 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 There was only one restriction which Miss Manly im 
 posed upon him and that was, that he should leave hia 
 beautiful, silky-eared dog at Montebello. Being an ejt- 
 ceedingly democratic quadruped, though belonging to an 
 aristocratic master, he bade defiance to all her rules, and 
 created an anarchy in the school-room that threatened the 
 destruction of her dynasty. Miss Manly was not fond of 
 dogs or cats. Her only pets were peacocks, whose starry- 
 eyed plumage illuminated the inclosure back of the semi 
 nary. The bird consecrated to Juno, seemed alone worthy 
 of her caresses.
 
 CHAP PER V. 
 
 We will return for a while to the deserted Master of 
 Glenmore, and see what joy and comfort he finds in his 
 now daughterless home. We will look in upon him, about 
 the time that Horace returned from his visit to Magnolia 
 Vale, while lingering Winter still makes the fireside the 
 brightest, happiest spot. He is sitting on the same sofa 
 which Eoline always wheeled up for him in exactly the 
 same spot, his feet are encased in the beautiful embroid 
 ered slippers her hand had wrought, he has on his silver 
 gray wrapper, and the green shade softens the splendor of 
 the astral lamp. He sits with his arms folded, gazing at 
 the illuminated hearth. 
 
 " Do you want any thing more, master 1" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 '* Shall I bring Master Willie down before he goes to 
 bed!" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Gatty closed the door. " How different," thought he, 
 "from the sweet voice of Eoline. The lamp has too great 
 a glare. Eoline knew how to temper its lustre, so that it 
 was as soft as moonlight. The curtains hang awry. Every 
 thing misses the magic of her graceful touch. She was 
 certainly a most loving and affectionate daughter, till her 
 pride rose up and overshadowed .all her lovely domestic 
 virtues. Pride ! pride !" repeated the proud father, per 
 fectly unconscious of being under its tyrannical dominion 
 himself, " it was pride that caused the angels to be banish 
 ed from heaven. It is the curse of many a domestic Eden 
 II she would even now unbend and obey my will, I would 
 
 (101)
 
 102 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE 
 
 forgive her past rebellion and receive her to my arms, for 
 oh ! I do feel such a void, such a dreary void !" 
 
 He paused with a long, deep sigh, but no light footstep 
 hovered near, no gentle voice inquired, 
 
 "Father, what can / do to cheer you!" as in hours that 
 were past. 
 
 Yes ! light footsteps did come near a gentle voice did 
 breathe into his ear, but it brought no balm, for its burden 
 was Eoline, sweet sister Ela. Willie came to pay his 
 nightly visit, but the child who mourned for his sister 
 and refused to be comforted, was always sure to say some 
 thing that struck like a dagger to his father's heart. The 
 beautiful boy 
 
 " Led by his dusky guide, 
 Like morning brought by night," 
 
 glides along in his night-dress and stood by his father's 
 knee. 
 
 "When is Ela coming backl" was always his first 
 question. In vain had he been forbidden to ask it. In 
 vain had he been told that no one knew wtfen Ela was 
 coming. He thought as his father went abroaa-every day, 
 that he must hear something of his sister, and still uni 
 formly as the night came on, and Gatty brdught him to 
 his father's knee, he would lift his tender, wistful brown 
 eyes to his face, and repeat the burden of his young and 
 yearning heart, 
 
 " When is sister Ela coming home "?" 
 
 This night the question seemed unusually painful to 
 Mr. Glenmore, and he answered impatiently, 
 
 " I have told you a hundred times that I know nothing 
 about it. Why will you persist in asking 1" 
 
 " Because I want to see her so bad. I must see her fa 
 ther. I can't live without seeing her." 
 
 His beautiful eyes were crystalized with tears. His 
 father could not speak harshly to such a cherub, though he
 
 EOLINEJ OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 103 
 
 often sent such barbed arrows to his conscience. He took 
 the child in his arms and talked to him of his playthings, 
 of a little pony he was going to buy him, but no matter 
 what subject was introduced, by some association it brought 
 him back to Ela. 
 
 "I don't want a pony, unless you send for Ela to see 
 me ride it. When are you going to send for her 1" 
 
 " She does not want to come home. She went away 
 because she does not love us well enough to stay with us, 
 Willie. You must learn to be happy without her." 
 
 " But I cannot," repeated the boy, " and I know she does 
 love us. And she didn't want to go away, either. I remem 
 ber how she rained her tears on my neck, and how she 
 sobbed and wept, as if her heart were breaking all to pieces. 
 What for did she cry so hard about going away, if she 
 wanted to leave us 1" 
 
 Many a one besides Mr. Glenmore has found it hard to 
 confute, with false sophistry, the pure logic of childhood. 
 He remembered himself the filial shower which drenched 
 his bosom, the warm embrace, the clinging arms, the pt~ay- 
 erful entreaties of that night of anguish ; and he knew he 
 had spoken falsely when he had said that she wanted to k ave 
 them. But he could not tell this little single-hearted 
 child, that he had banished her because she would not marry 
 Horace Cleveland. 
 
 "You must not talk about Eoline any more, Willie," 
 said he, smoothing back his ringlets, without looking him 
 in the face. " I have told you so many times. I repeat it 
 again. If you do not obey me, I shall tell Gatty to put 
 you to bed without bringing you down stairs to see me. 
 Will you mind me, Willie 1" 
 
 The child slid out of his father's arms, and took hold of 
 Gatty's hand. 
 
 " You needn't bring me down stairs at night any more, 
 Gatty," said he, sadly, but resolutely, " I can't help talk
 
 104 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 ing about Ela, and I don't want to. She's good, and I 
 love her. I will talk about her," added the boy, his heart 
 swelling and heaving with suppressed sobs. " She's my 
 sister, and I won't forget her." 
 
 Again Mr. Glenmore was left alone-, alone with his 
 inflexibility and his pride. He took up a book and endea 
 vored to read, but he had been to accustomed to have 
 Eoline read aloud to him, that all books seemed insipid, 
 wanting the charm of her melodious voice. 
 
 " Miserable father!'' he exclaimed, throwing down his 
 book, "both my children turn against me. They care not 
 for me intent on their own stubborn will. No one cares 
 for me. Even Cleveland looks coldly on me since my 
 daughter has left me, as if I could have helped her rejec 
 tion of his son 1 What could I do more than discard, banish 
 her 1 Willie, young as he is, boldly reproaches me for the 
 loss of his sister. Even my negroes roll their eye-balls 
 saucily in my face when they ask me when I've heard 
 from Miss Eoline. Yet it is her own fault all her own 
 fault though / must bear the blame and the reproach. 
 Such is the justice of the world. It is, ' There goes the 
 cruel father' not a word of the obstinate, ungrateful 
 daughter." 
 
 He was interrupted in his meditations by the announce 
 ment of a visitor, and Horace Cleveland entered. He 
 seemed in haste. His mother was unusually ill. They 
 were to start for Cuba on the morrow. He came to pay 
 his parting respects. 
 
 " I have seen your daughter," he added, abruptly. " She 
 burdened me with a thousand messages of love to yourself 
 and Willie." 
 
 " She is well, I trust," said Mr. Glenmore, trying to 
 speak in an indifferent tone, though he started with sur 
 prise and pleasure. 
 
 "She is well, but she cannot be happy, situated as she
 
 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 105 
 
 is. Mr. Glenmore, you cannot allow her to remain there 
 You cannot permit you$ daughter to labor under a stern 
 task-mistress, when you have educated her so munificently, 
 nurtured her so tenderly ; when the principles to which 
 she has sacrificed the luxuries of home, ought to glorify 
 her in your eyes." 
 
 " Really," said Mr. Glenmore, looking with surprise on the 
 anhnated countenance of the young man, " if you had mani 
 fested as much interest in my daughter's behalf, before her 
 departure, she might perhaps have been reconciled to re 
 main. For, let me tell you, young man," continued he, 
 glad to find some channel in which he could pour out his 
 exasperated feelings, " it always did seem very strange to 
 me, that you should look with such coldness and indifference 
 on a girl of Eoline's acknowledged attractions. One 
 would have supposed that you were doomed to wed poverty 
 and deformity, instead of affluence and beauty, that you 
 were to be dragged to the scaffold instead of the altar. 
 If I had not said she should marry you," added he, growing 
 warmer and warmer as he expatiated on the subject, and 
 Btill clinging to the sheet-anchor of his soul, his own iron 
 will " if I had not passed my word, a word that never 
 has been broken, and never shall be, I would like her all 
 the better for her woman's spirit." 
 
 " I never have felt myself worthy of your daughter, sir," 
 replied Horace, apparently stung by Mr. Glenmore's bitter 
 taunts. " I acknowledge I have been unjust to her merits. 
 I have lived in a world of my own, from earliest boyhood, 
 very much like the chrysalis in its shell. I could not be 
 forced to affect an interest I did not feel. The heart admits 
 of no dictator. At least mine does not. Your daughter 
 has nobly asserted the independence of hers. I admire, i 
 honor her for it. She should be crowned with laurels 
 instead of being doomed to banishment; exalted into a 
 heroine, instead of being forced to earn her daily bread."
 
 106 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " Does she appear unhappy 1" asked Mr. Glenmore, 
 charmed, in spite of himself, with Horace's warm eulo- 
 gium. 
 
 " She told me she was resigned, if not happy. A spirit 
 like hers would sustain itself in any situation." 
 
 "How did she receive youl" asked the father. 
 
 " Far more cordially than I deserved. We parted friends, 
 better friends than we met. Friends, I trust, we shall ever 
 remain." 
 
 "Friends!" repeated Mr. Glenmore, with a peculiar 
 smile. " When a young man and a young girl talk about 
 being friends all their lives, we know what it means. I see 
 very well that it rests with yourself to shorten the period 
 of my daughter's banishment. If you wish it, you can 
 hasten her return." 
 
 " No, sir," hastily interrupted Horace, the blood rush 
 ing even to his temples, " she did not disguise the repug 
 nance which induced her to flee. I have no hope that I 
 could ever conquer it. I am destitute of those graces and 
 accomplishments which charm the eye and win the affec 
 tions of the young and beautiful. Yet with so little to 
 inspire love, I should be boundless in my wishes, endlesa 
 m my exactions. If I once loved, I should be an enthu 
 siast, and stake my life's happiness on being loved in 
 return. I tremble for what might be the consequences." 
 
 "You have thought of the subject since your visit te 
 Magnolia Vale, it seems," said Mr. Glenmore, sarcastically. 
 
 " I have," replied he, frankly, " and felt, too, as I hav> 
 never done before ; but, as I leave home to-morrow, ana 
 it may be long before I return, I shall have ample time 
 to recover the former tone of my mind. In the meantime, 
 I know your parental heart will plead for your daughter's 
 restoration, and will not plead in vain." 
 
 "What fools sensible young men can make of them- 
 Belves !" exclaimed Mr. Glenmore. " I want to know wha*
 
 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 107 
 
 is the reason you could not make yourself loved, if you 
 tried 1 With a fine face, a splendid figure, talents of which 
 any man might be proud, a large fortune, and an unble 
 mished character, you talk as if you were a scarecrow, 
 terrible enough to frighten away all the girls in Chris 
 tendom." 
 
 " I spoke only of Eoline's repugnance, sir." 
 
 " And that was born of your indifference. The burden 
 of her song was that she could not be an unloved wife, 
 that she could not marry a man who disliked her." 
 
 "Disliked her!" repeated Horace. "I never disliked 
 her. I was indifferent, blind, stolid, perhaps. Mr. G Jen- 
 more, I cannot remain to discuss this subject farther, to 
 night. I should be glad to hear you say, before I leave, 
 that you would recall ^Bbline from banishment. I should 
 go with a lighter heart." 
 
 "Did she commission you to plead in her behalf 1" 
 
 " No, sir," replied the young man, with growing warmth. 
 " All that I have said, is the spontaneous suggestion of my 
 own mind. She asks nothing, claims nothing from you. 
 If you were in sickness and sorrow, she would fly to you 
 on the wings of filial love ; but in your day of prosperity 
 and strength, she feels that you need not her ministrations. 
 But you do, sir I see that you do." 
 
 Horace took up his hat and moved towards the door. 
 Mr. Glenmore held out his hand. 
 
 " I am not offended with your frankness, Horace. I am 
 glad that you have seen Eoline, and that you seem to like 
 her better than you once did. I suspect she will be tired 
 of her experiment and come back after a while. I will not 
 turn her from my door, but she knows the conditions on 
 which I can receive her as a daughter, and so do you. 
 Farewell ! a pleasant voyage and the speedy restoration 
 of your mother's health." 
 
 " They have entered into a conspiracy against me> to-
 
 108 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 night," said Mr. Glenmore, when he retired into his cham 
 ber and closed the door. I wonder if they will let me 
 sleep. I suspect even the ghosts will haunt my pillow, 
 and cry out, 'Eoline, Eoline.' " 
 
 Poor man ! his own heart kept echoing the same elo 
 quent cry, and he heard it through the steel armor of his 
 pride, and he tried to double the panoply and pile up 
 mountains of defence, but it would be heard, in sunshine 
 and shadow, by day and by night, that one, sweet, musical 
 name, "Eoline, Eoline." 
 
 In the unusual agitation of his mind, he forgot to extin 
 guish his light, but fell asleep with the lamp blazing on 
 the table. How long he had slept he knew not, but he 
 awakened with a thrill of horror, at feeling a little cold 
 hand laid on his, and starting up^n bed, he saw a small 
 white figure standing by him, with his large, pensive eyes 
 fixed immovably on his face. 
 
 " Willie," he exclaimed, " Willie, what are you doing 
 here 1" 
 
 The child moved not. Its eyes remained fixed as the 
 eyes of the dead. Its cold hand pressed his. Its auburn 
 ringlets hung listless on its cheeks. 
 
 " When is Ela coming back 1" it cried, in a strange, un 
 natural tone. 
 
 For a moment the father trembled with superstitious 
 terror so pale and still and corpse-like the child looked, 
 in the glare of the yellow lamp-light but he recollected 
 that Willie was a somnambulist, and had frequently 
 alarmed the family by his nocturnal rambles. Still it was 
 the first time he had ever sought his bed the first time 
 that the voice of that mysterious existence between life 
 and death had ever sounded in his ears and when he 
 heard the name of Eoline issuing from those statue-like 
 lips in the silence of the night, and the loneliness of his
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 109 
 
 apartment, he would have scarcely felt more awe had an 
 inhabitant from the iomb addressed him. 
 
 "Willie, my child," cried he, "awake. You must not 
 walk about in your sleep in this manner." 
 
 "I'm looking for Ela," replied the boy, fixing his still, 
 star-like eyes on the face of his father. " Is she gone to 
 Heaven 1" 
 
 " Come to bed, Willie," said his father, stretching out 
 his arms and lifting him into bed by his side. " Now shut 
 your eyes and lie still. Don't say any thing more." 
 
 The child lay still and silent, but he did not close his 
 eyes. Calm, deep and serene as a moon-lit lake, when 
 not a breath of wind agitates its surface, their dark, brown 
 orbs, mirrored the troubled glances bent upon them. He 
 was as cold as ice, and his cheeks white as alabaster. His 
 father could not tell whether he were asleep or awake 
 whether in that awful sleep, which fills with chill, shiver 
 ing sensations, those who wake to behold it ; or in the full 
 consciousness of being pillowed on the bosom, whose pride 
 and self-will had so lately repelled that young and inno 
 cent head. Thus they lay, looking into each other's 
 faces, while the long wick of the lamp wavered, and made 
 strange shadows on the wall. 
 
 "I cannot bear this any longer," thought Mr. Glen- 
 more, laying his hand gently over the eyes, so awful in 
 their serene immobility. He felt the soft lids closing un 
 der his touch. After a while the icy limbs grew warm in 
 his embrace, and a calm, uniform breathing stole like mu 
 sic into his ears. 
 
 "I will write to Eoline to-morrow," was the father's 
 last resolve, as he fell asleep by his sleeping boy. When 
 he awoke in the morning, Willie was gone. The little 
 somnambulist had stolen back to his couch, unKnown to 
 his father and himself; and like the night- vision of the 
 --ancrel-child, the good resolutions of Mr. Glenmore ued 
 

 
 J 10 EOLINE } OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 with returning sunshine. Remorse is a pale ghost, that 
 haunts the midnight shades. Pride, a giant, with greaves 
 of brass and spear of iron, challenging, under the broad 
 day-beam, the armies of the living God. If night were 
 the time for action, Eoline had long since been recalled, 
 but unfortunately her avengers walked in darkness, and in 
 the light the strong man defied their power. 
 
 He had business to transact that day, which led him 
 about twenty miles from home. The air was clear and 
 elastic, the sky blue and clear, the horse which bore him 
 fleet and spirited. Mr. Glenmore's spirits rose, and the lord 
 of Glenmore Place seemed to occupy a very enviable 
 niche in the temple of the world. The business detained 
 him longer than he anticipated, and he concluded to pass 
 the night with a friend, an old college friend of his, whom 
 he had not met since their parting on commencement day, 
 when, from the threshold of manhood, they had looked 
 out into life and saw nothing but a crowd of indistinct 
 and glorious images. For years he had seen nothing of 
 this friend, and knew not until lately that he had become 
 a resident of a place so near his own. It was not without 
 emotion that he inquired the way to his dwelling, and 
 asked if Mr. Wilton were at home. He was ushered into 
 a handsome parlor, where he awaited the entrance of his 
 friend. 
 
 " This is an awkward position," thought Mr. Glenmore, 
 "I know not what has befallen him during these long 
 years of separation. If I inquire after the health of his 
 wife, she may, like mine, be sleeping the deep sleep that 
 knows no awakening here. If I ask after his children, he 
 may have none, or they may be dead, or what is still 
 worse, worthless. If he pay me the same compliment, I 
 shall feel something as if I were under the operation of 
 the tourniquet It is a dangerous thing for friends to meet
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. Ill 
 
 after the lapse of years, unless the tongue of the absent 
 has been made eloquent during the interval." 
 
 While waiting for his friend, he was attracted by a beau 
 tiful picture on the wall opposite the mantel-piece. It 
 was a young girl in the garb of a shepherdess, with a crook 
 in her hand, and a straw hat, encircled with a garland of 
 roses, on her head. Her eyes were so black and lustrous, 
 her hair so black, waving and redundant, her cheeks so 
 radiant with life-roses, and her whole figure so airy and 
 buoyant, so full of youth and grace, that it gave one a 
 joyous sensation to gaze upon it. 
 
 " That must be his wife or daughter," thought Mr. 
 Glenmore. " It is almost as beautiful as my own Eoline. 
 But Eoline has the beauty of the morning. This reminds 
 me of the midnight's splendor." 
 
 A gentleman entered in whose slender form, thin features, 
 and sallow complexion, he would never have recognized 
 the handsome person of the youthful graduate. Neither 
 would the thin, sallow, yet distinguished looking gentleman 
 have identified the slender, graceful student, in the portly 
 person and worldly face of the aristocratic man before him. 
 
 " Glenmore, I am glad to see you," said Wilton, in a 
 deep, melancholy voice, how different from the gay, hila 
 rious tone of other days. " You and the world have been 
 on good terms, I perceive." 
 
 " And how fares it with you, my friend 1" asked Glen 
 more, all his best and kindest feelings stirred within him, 
 as the visions of his youth rose one by one before his eyes. 
 
 "You see I am a kind of walking ghost," he replied, 
 " but I am better now than I was six months ago. Then, 
 it would hardly have been thought premature to have mea 
 sured my grave. But walk into our family sitting-roon*. 
 The air of this cold parlor seems chill and ungenial to 
 meet an old friend in. Come, let me introduce you to my 
 wife You will see my daughter too," added he, in a lo^w
 
 1 12 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 voice, as they threaded the long passage, " or rather what 
 was once my daughter. You noticed the picture over the 
 sofa. See if you can trace any resemblance." 
 
 A servant at this moment opening the door, Mr. Wilton 
 checked what he was about to utter, and ushered his friend 
 into the room where two ladies were seated. The elder of 
 the two, a very fine-looking, but pale and care-worn lady, 
 rose to receive him, the wife and mother of the family. 
 The other did not move nor take any notice of the intro 
 duction, but sat like a statue of stone, her large black eyes 
 riveted on the floor, with an expression of hopeless despon 
 dency. In vain did Mr. Glenmore endeavor to trace in 
 that wild, faded and stony countenance, any resemblance 
 to the bright, smiling, blooming shepherdess of the parlor. 
 He looked at his friend, who turned away his head with a 
 sigh, then resuming the conversation, he led the way back 
 through the scenes of their youth, and gathered up a thou 
 sand reminiscences of their college life. The evening 
 glided away unconsciously, and the sallow face of Wilton 
 lighted up with a kind of sunset glow. 
 
 " Amelia, my dear," said Mrs. Wilton, to the pale statue 
 on the sofa, " you had better retire. It is later than you 
 usually sit up." 
 
 " I cannot go alone, mother," she answered, with a hol 
 low, melancholy accent. " I'll go, when you are ready, 
 but not alone. That is, if you are willing to let me wait. 
 I'll do just as you think best." 
 
 Mrs. Wilton rose with a sad countenance, and bidding 
 Mr. Glenmore good-night, took her daughter & passive hand 
 and led her from the room. As they, passed through the 
 door, the latter rolled her large, wild eyes back one mo 
 ment on the stranger's face, and then disappeared. Mr. 
 Glenmore started. It seemed to him a voice was echoing 
 through the apartment, as through his own echoing halls, 
 { Eolme,Eoline."
 
 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 113 
 
 " My poor, unhappy child !" exclaimed Wilton, clasping 
 his hands together and leaning his forehead upon them. 
 " How my heart bleeds for her. When I think what she 
 once was, and what she now is, I can scarcely believe in 
 her identity." 
 
 " What has been the cause of this calamity 1" asked 
 Mr. Glenmore, strangely associating the thought of his 
 blooming Eoline with this wreck of woman's loveliness. 
 
 " A loveless, ill-assorted marriage," exclaimed the father, 
 with emphasis. " A marriage that has frozen the fountains 
 of youthful feelings, paralized the spring of youthful ener 
 gy, and turned her heart to stone." 
 
 The f uddy hue of Mr. Glenmore's cheek turned of ashy 
 paleness. Once more the sweet name of Eoline breathed 
 softly in the father's ear. 
 
 "Was it a marriage of compulsion'?" asked the con 
 science-stricken Glenmore. 
 
 " Not exactly of compulsion," replied the father j "but 
 if you will not be a weary listener, I will relate to you all 
 the circumstances." 
 
 Mr. Glenmore drew his chair still nearer, and his coun 
 tenance expressed the deep interest he felt. 
 
 " I have two sons in college," continued Mr. Wilton, 
 "but this is my only daughter. Were it not for the picture 
 on which I saw you gazing, you might well believe it a 
 father's partiality, when I tell you how fair and beautiful 
 my poor, faded child once was. She had but one fault a 
 too yielding temper. Ever swayed by the will of others, 
 ever sacrificing her own wishes to those around her, it wag 
 impossible to discover whether she had a wish or will ot 
 her own. If I said, ' will you do so and so, my Amelia V 
 she always answered, ' If you and my mother desire it I 
 We never controlled her, never intimidated her by the 
 manifestation of an arbitrary will. We endeavored to givo 
 tone to her meek and too passive character. We encou 
 77
 
 1 14) EOLINE ; OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 raged her to lean on her own judgment, to think, feel and 
 act for herself, but she never would do it ; never would 
 select a ribbon or an ornament without the approval of her 
 mother's taste, or a book or journal, unsanctioned by her 
 father's judgment. At length about two years ago, a gentle 
 man of unblemished reputation, wealth and standing, paid 
 his addresses to her. He was of cold, reserved manners, 
 and somewhat unattractive in appearance, but he appeared 
 devotedly attached to our Amelia, who hardly lifted her 
 eyes in his presence, and very seldom spoke. For several 
 months previous she had been unusually languid, and fre 
 quently sunk into long fits of melancholy, which, not being 
 able to trace to any mental cause, filled us with solicitude 
 about her health. We hoped the attentions of Mr. Lovell 
 would be a source of interest and excitement, and therefore 
 encouraged them. When we appealed to her for deci 
 sion on this all-important subject, she again and again re 
 peated, ' I will do just as you, my parents, think best. I 
 have no will but yours.' 
 
 " ' But your own happiness, my child, is at stake. It is 
 for you to decide where your own heart is concerned 
 Let it speak, and listen to its dictates. Do you love 
 himl' 
 
 " ' I respect and esteem him,' she would answer. ' I am 
 willing to marry him if you think it best that I should.' 
 
 " Yes she was willing friends were urgemt the gen 
 tleman pressing and we, believing him to be a moral, 
 sensible and honorable man, having the responsibility of 
 hoosing for her, thus forced upon us, advised, nay, even 
 urged her acceptance of his addresses we were weary of 
 her indecision. We saw no reasonable objection, and as 
 her heart did not seem pre-occupied with another, we 
 trusted he would, in time, rouse it from the constitutional 
 apathy vr. which it was steeped. Were we light in so 
 doing r*
 
 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 115 
 
 " Certainly certainly," answered Mr. Glenmore. 
 " What else could you do 1" 
 
 " Well, she married, and her husband carried her to his 
 own home, very far from ours* In a year's time we 
 yearned to see her. We wrote and entreated her to come. 
 She answered that she would if her husband were willing 
 she had no will but his. He was not willing. He was 
 cold, selfish, and self-willed. We had been all tenderness 
 and indulgence. We had anticipated all her wishes. Her 
 husband thought only of the gratification of his own. 
 The poor child fell into a state of perfect stagnation. Her 
 health languished, her spirits sank into the waveless calm 
 of hopeless despondency, and last week he brought her 
 back to remain with us while he is making an European 
 tour. If you were to ask her now if she is happy, she 
 would say, ' I think so, that is, if my husband is willing.' 
 Glenmore, you have a daughter?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Has she a will of her own 1" 
 
 " Yes, and a pretty strong one." 
 
 Thank God for it. Thank God that she can take the 
 responsibility of her destiny out of your hands. I begin 
 to think my poor girl had no heart, but she must have had 
 one, or she would not have felt it freezing and freezing, 
 like the waters of a still lake in a frosty atmosphere. Had 
 she waited till love had ruffled those still waters, she haa 
 escaped this living death. If you love your daughter 
 never let her marry a man whom she does not love witn 
 all her heart and soul. Make her take the responsibility 
 of her life's future out of your keeping. God knows that 
 our own accountability is a sufficiently fearful trust. I 
 have been a wretched invalid for many a day, but this 
 affliction has added the weight of twenty years to my ex 
 istence." 
 
 "I am sorry for you," said Mr. Glenmore, thoughtfully.
 
 1 16 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " This is really an extraordinary case. But I see no pos 
 sible blame that you can attach to yoursi If. What a 
 strange world this is ! You are made wretched, because 
 your daughter has been made a passive being in the hands 
 of others ; I, because I cannot bend the stubborn will of 
 mine, to my own superior judgment. Certainly my trials 
 are very different from yours." 
 
 Here he related to his friend his own domestic history, 
 dwelling on his baffled hopes, his defeated plans, his 
 wounded pride and affection. Wilton listened with in 
 tense interest.. He rose and walked the room, rubbed his 
 hands together, and fixed upon the speaker his deep-set 
 and intelligent eyes. 
 
 "And you have discarded, banished this glorious girl !" 
 he exclaimed, when Glenmore paused for breath. " Cast 
 her from you, because she has dared to be the judge of 
 her own happiness 5 dared to assert the supremacy of con 
 science, honor and truth, over parental authority. You 
 ought rather to erect an altar to her, and pay homage to 
 the purity and rectitude of her principles, the noble inde 
 pendence of her spirit. The young man, too ! I like him. 
 I like his proud sincerity, his unbending firmness. What 
 a pity you fathers tried to force them together. Had you 
 left them free, they might have been drawn towards each 
 other by a natural attraction, but the lordly spirit disdains 
 coercion. Chains are chains, though forged of gold, and 
 they will excoriate the heart, though covered with roses. 
 Glenmore, you must recall this daughter of yours. If 
 you do not, by Heaven, / will adopt her for my own !" 
 
 " If I had not pledged my word a word never yet 
 broken !" exclaimed Mr. Glenmore. 
 
 " Away with such sophistry !" cried his friend. " The 
 word spoken in passion is no more binding than the oath 
 of a maniac To utter a rash promise is foolish, to
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 17 
 
 persist in it, when reason and justice condemn it, is 
 criminal." 
 
 " If I thought I should not forfeit my character for con 
 sistency !" said the father of Eoline. 
 
 Wilton's melancholy features relaxed into a smile. 
 
 " We are wretched self-deceivers, my friend. Why, 
 ou are the most inconsistent man in the universe, at 
 this moment. For eighteen years, you have been sparing 
 neither time nor money, in forming a lovely, intelligent, 
 high-principled human being, and now you have thrown 
 her from you, because she refuses to be a soulless ma 
 chine, a heartless piece of barter and merchandise. ]f 
 that is what you call consistency, I must say, you have 
 studied a very different lexicography from what I have." 
 
 "I will write to her!" exclaimed Glenmore, with 
 sudden warmth, grasping Wilton's hand in both his. 
 " You are right. I thank you for opening my eyes to the 
 real excellencies of her character. I have never known 
 one moment's peace or happiness since she left me. My 
 home has seemed a tomb, my heart a grave. Give me 
 pen, ink and paper, and I will write to her, this very night. 
 Surely, Providence sent me hither, that the sight of your 
 poor frozen child should restore mine to her forfeit-place 
 in my affections." 
 
 A portable writing-desk, containing all the require 
 materials, was immediately placed before him. Wilton 
 looked on, with benevolent approbation, while he wrote, 
 under the influence of excited feelings, what would have 
 brought back the banished daughter at once, to her father's 
 arms. 
 
 " There," said he, pushing the paper towards Wilton 
 " read it, and write approved at the bottom of. it, if you 
 will." 
 
 " Written like a father, a man and a Christian," re 
 plied Wilton, laying his hand on his shoulder. "Believe
 
 118 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 me, the only true dignity consists in a practical recanta 
 tion of the errors of passion and of pride. Your daughter 
 will love and respect you far more than ever so will all 
 good and honest men." 
 
 Mr. Glenmore returned home with a lightened heart. 
 Day after day and week after week, he waited, with an 
 impatience that baffles description, for tidings from Mag 
 nolia Vale. But no letter, overflowing with grateful emo 
 tion no Eoline, flying on the wings of the wind to the 
 arms now open to receive her, gladdened the sad mono 
 tony of Glenmore Place. 
 
 " She scorns my offer of reconciliation," he cried, pride 
 darkening into wrath. " She refuses my forgiveness, and 
 spurns my humiliation. Well, let her reap as she has 
 sown. Though she steep her bread of dependence in bit 
 ter tears, though her hireling wages be earned by her 
 heart's best blood, she shall walk on in the thorny path 
 she herself has chosen. These rejected arms shall close 
 forever over my wronged and alienated affections. I 
 might have known " continued the excited father, " that 
 will of hers would never bend. The eternal vault of 
 Heaven would swerve from its stately arch, sooner than 
 that blue eye soften its bright, yet resolute beam." 
 
 At the remembrance of that blue eye, pure and celes 
 tial as the Heavens, whose hue it had borrowed, a feel 
 ing of tenderness touched the proud father's heart. A 
 tear glazed his haughty eye. He dashed it angrily away. 
 
 " Why should I feel, since she is forever estranged 1" 
 he cried. "Away with this weakness. Wilton may 
 weep if he will, over his frozen child, and it is well. 
 Mine has transformed herself into a pillar of fire, which 
 her own tears may quench, not mine." 
 
 Poor Eoline, how little she dreamed of the storm of 
 passion she had unconsciously excited in the bosom she 
 believed impassive to parental emotions. The letter of
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 119 
 
 reconciliation had never reached her. By a strange fa 
 tality, it had miscarried, and thus widened the breach it 
 was intended to heal. The dove of peace was not per 
 mitted to perform its heavenly mission, and the olive 
 Vanch withered in its beak.
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Eoliae had become accustomed to her little severely- 
 furnished apartment. She no longer contrasted it with her 
 beautiful and airy chamber at Glenmore Place, but with 
 the bustle of the school-room and the pompous formality 
 of the dining hall. Miss Manly had supplied her with a 
 rocking-chair of her own, which, if not covered with crim 
 son velvet, was low and comfortable, in comparison with 
 the Windsor machines, with their tall, tomb-stone backs. 
 The dark counterpane was exchanged for one of snowy- 
 white dimity the little narrow, green window curtains for 
 white flowing onesj even the morose-looking wardrobe re 
 laxed its stern features under a smiling coat of new varnish. 
 Then her mantel-piece and table were always covered with 
 the sweetest and fairest flowers of the season the floral 
 offerings of her juvenile admirers so that she seemed sur 
 rounded by the redolence of Spring and the glory of Sum 
 mer. From her windows she could look down upon 
 Magnolia Vale, with its emerald carpet and flowering trees 
 and the roar of the mill-dam came like a deep bass in na 
 ture's anthem to her musing ear. She could catch the 
 silver flash of the waters as they sparkled in the sun for 
 though the road which led to the spot was long and winding, 
 encircling a wild and woody glen, the vale itself was not 
 far from the seminary. Eoline bfod really begun to love 
 the retirement of her liVtle apartment, and to associate with 
 it feelings of home and comfort. Here Louisa often passed 
 with her the evening hours and Eoline always felt nearer 
 Heaven when she left her. Here darling Fanny would 
 come stealing in, after the nine o'clock bell had rung the 
 
 (120)
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 121 
 
 children to bed, half hidden in her mantle of ringlets ; and 
 Selma, with her straight, black hair of Indian polish and 
 redundance, unloosened and floating, ready to be gathered 
 under the muslin cap, would peep in with sly and mis 
 chievous smile. Annie Grey gentle Annie, as she was 
 called could not go to sleep without coming to give Eoline 
 a loving good night. And bonny Bessie Bell had learned 
 the way, after the "curfew tolled," to elude Miss Manly's 
 vigilant ear, and glide tiptoe along the passage to the Bower 
 of this May Queen, as they called Eoline's bouquet-scented 
 apartment. The girls loved dearly to catch her at her 
 night toilet. They almost quarreled for the privilege of 
 combing out the rippling gold of her hair. Sometimes she 
 had half-a-dozen frizeurs flying about her head at the same 
 moment one braiding, another curling, another smoothing 
 and burnishing the flowing silk with her rosy palm. Eoline 
 would laugh, and call them her bower-maidens, and repay 
 their toil with fond caresses. At times, she fell asleep un 
 der the soothing operation, when she was awakened by a 
 shower of kisses, mingled with rose leaves stolen from her 
 vases. 
 
 This was all very pleasant to the young and affectionate 
 Eoline, after being confined all day to her monotonous 
 lessons, and being measured and squared by Miss Manly's 
 rule and compass ; but she was not permitted to enjoy this 
 sweet abandonment from restraint much longer. 
 
 One evening, after having returned from a walk to the 
 vale, where St. Leon had met her, and borne her burden 
 of flowers, she passed up to her room, her cheek flushed 
 from exercise, and perhaps brightened by the reflection of 
 St. Leon's languishing dark eyes. She beheld with asto 
 nishment a pile of trunks, band-boxes, bags, and bundles 
 near the door, and entering, saw, with still greater asto 
 nishment, a coarse looking child of about twelve, seated 
 in her rocking-chair, which she was putting in vehement
 
 122 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 motion, while she was craunching a large, green apple, 
 whose skin she had strewn upon the floor. She did not 
 rise as Eoline entered, but stared at her with her light, 
 sullen eyes, without pausing in her fierce mastication of the 
 fruit. Seeing how perfectly she seemed at home, and that 
 ehe had taken full possession of the apartment, Eoline 
 approached her and said, with that grace and politeness 
 which distinguished all her actions, 
 
 " You have mistaken the room, I perceive. This is mine. 
 I presume you are a new pupil of Miss Manly's." 
 
 " Miss Manly put me here herself," replied the girl, in a 
 grum voice, half choked with the apple she was swallow 
 ing. 
 
 " Indeed," said Eoline, her face crimsoning with vexa 
 tion, "perhaps you do not know Miss Manly. I cannot 
 think she intended you to come in here. It must have 
 been a mistake of the servant's." 
 
 "No it wan't," cried the new comer. " 'Twas a woman 
 as tall as a steeple, that ordered every body about, and told 
 the folks to bring my trunks up to Miss Glenmore's room. 
 Ain't that your name 1" 
 
 " Miss Glenmore will probably have something to say 
 about this arrangement herself," cried Eoline, unable to 
 conceal her extreme displeasure at this innovation upon her 
 retirement, and her disgust for the coarse and ill-bred com 
 panion thus forced upon her. " I will see Miss Manly 
 immediately." 
 
 " I don't want to s^ay with you, gracious knows, if you 
 don't want me to," said the girl, her face turning as red as 
 a peony. " I didn't put myself here. I'd a heap rather 
 stay with the girls, than one of the teachers, though pa 
 asked Miss Manly to let me sleep with one, 'cause I have 
 the nightmare so bad. I wish I was to home, that I do. 
 i don't want to stay here to be snubbed. Pa's as rich as 
 any body, and has got as many niggers, too. He won't
 
 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 123 
 
 let me be imposed on, either. If he hadn't gone, I'd go 
 back this minute, and so " 
 
 Here she had worked herself up to such a pitch of wound 
 ed and indignant feeling, that she began to cry like a big 
 baby, and sobbed out, 
 
 " I won't stay here. I'll make pa carry me homo I'm 
 as good as any body, and I'll let folks know it." 
 
 Eoline, without attempting to reply to this outbreak of 
 vulgarity and pride, flew down stairs, and encountered 
 Miss Manly in the front passage, conversing in the most 
 gracious manner with St. Leon, who had been presenting 
 her a bouquet of wild flowers. He*looked up with surprise 
 at the excitement of Eoline's manner, and at the crimson 
 spot that burned in the roses of her cheeks. 
 
 " I should like to speak one moment with you, Miss 
 Manly," said she, " if you are not too much engaged." 
 
 " Certainly, Miss Glenmore," replied the principal, " if 
 Mr. St. Leon will excuse me." 
 
 Of course Mr. St. Leon excused her, with one of his 
 reverential bows, and a glance of intense anxiety towards 
 Eoline. Miss Manly led the way to the parlor, her eyes 
 looking like a bird of prey's. 
 
 "I am certain there has been a mistake," cried Eoline, 
 conscientiously convinced all the time that she was uttering 
 a falsehood j " the servants have put a strange girl in my 
 apartment. I will thank you very much to see that the 
 error is rectified." 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Glenmore," answered Miss Manly, 
 with slight embarrassment, but infinite haughtiness, "I took 
 the liberty, as mistress of this establishment, to put the 
 child there myself. All the dormitories are full. I have a 
 pupil in my own room, and I do not expect my assistants 
 to claim immunities which I do not myself enjoy. As you 
 were absent, I could not inform you of this arrangement. 
 As for asking permission in what manner I might dispose
 
 124? EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 of my own house, I did not think it necessary. I am 
 sorry you are displeased, as it is not possible for me to 
 give counter orders." 
 
 "Indeed, Miss Manly," replied Eoline, with grave ear 
 nestness, "I cannot consent to this. The apartment is 
 very small, entirely too small for two persons. But even 
 if it were of illimitable extent, I would not share it with 
 a stranger above all, one so exceedingly vulgar and low 
 bred as this girl seems to be." 
 
 " My former music teacher occupied that same apart 
 ment, with one of my pupils," said Miss Manly, with 
 freezing statelin ess "and I never heard any complaint. 
 I must say I think you selfish and disobliging, Miss Glen- 
 more; I always expect my assistants to have the good of the 
 institution more in the heart, than their own personal com 
 fort. There is no sacrifice I would not make to advance its 
 already lofty and spotless reputation. I believe Miss More 
 is actuated by the same high and disinterested motives. 
 She even requested me to place the child in her apartment 
 rather than yours but her health is so extremely delicate, 
 1 did not like her to have any additional charge on her 
 mind." 
 
 "I thank you for having some regard for her feelings, 
 if not for mine," exclaimed Eoline, her eyes glistening at 
 this proof of Louisa's self-sacrificing friendship. She began 
 to feel something like the scorpion girt by fire. She could 
 see no way oi escape, but by leaving the seminary ; and 
 where could she turn, when her father's doors were closed 
 against her 1 ? She could not wander abroad, seeking shelter 
 and employment, with the vials of Miss Manly's wrath 
 pouring down upon her devoted head. She was conscious 
 of losing caste with that lady, on account of St. Leon's 
 unrepressed admiration and increasing devotion. She was 
 conscious, toe/, chat Miss Manly had never liked her inde 
 pendence and self-reliance, and was glad of annoying her
 
 EOL.TNEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. J25 
 
 in a manner most repugnant to her refined and fastidious 
 taste. 
 
 " I do not pretend to boast of the meek, Christian tem 
 per of Louisa," said she, bitterly. " She is an angel, more 
 fit for Heaven than earth ! I wish I were like her but I 
 never shall be, I fear. If you will give me Fanny or Selma, 
 or Annie, for a companion, Miss Manly, I will not object 5 
 but this rude, untaught child, will make my apartment a 
 perfect den of horror." 
 
 " I trust the influence of your example will assist in 
 forming her manners. If she has not had the advantages of 
 an early education and refined society, the child is to be 
 pitied, not scorned. However, Miss Glenmore, rather than 
 have the Magnolia Vale Seminary a scene of unlady-like 
 contention, I will go to Miss More and accept her noble 
 and disinterested offer." 
 
 Sweeping aside her long ringlets with an imperial mo 
 tion, she was about to leave the parlor, when Eoline 
 sprang forward and laid her hand on the lock of the door. 
 
 " No, madam let her remain. Louisa shall not sacri 
 fice her tranquillity for mine. I will try to emulate her 
 self-denying and unmurmuring spirit. But when I think 
 of my once loved home " Eoline could not keep the tears 
 from gushing into her eyes, at the remembrance of all she 
 had sacrificed, and unwilling to give Miss Manly this tri 
 umph over her feelings, she hurried into the passage, and 
 avoiding her own apartment, walked out on the green lawn, 
 where the children were playing. Fanny flew forward 
 and put her arms around her. 
 
 "Oh! my dear Miss Eoline," she cried, "I have been 
 praying Miss Manly to let me stay with you, and let this 
 new girl take my place ; so have half the pupils, but the 
 Colonel will not consent. It is too bad, to put such a 
 coarse, ugly, stray monster with such a dear, sweet, beau 
 tiful creature as you are."
 
 126 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "I have been asking her, too," said Eoline, holding 
 Fanny's ringlets as a veil before her tearful eyes, " but 
 in vain. So let us say no more about it, darling Fanny. 
 Let us walk among the rose trees, and see if their sweet 
 breath will not soften my bitter feeling. I am ashamed 
 o think how angry I have been." 
 
 " I don't wonder you are angry," said Fanny, "just look 
 at the creature ! who ever saw such a looking object 1" 
 
 Eoline, following the direction of Fanny's scornful 
 glance, beheld Louisa standing in the piazza, with the 
 strange new figure by her side. She seemed to be direct 
 ing her attention to the romping children, and kindly en 
 deavoring to cheer the sullen and home-sick child. How 
 lonely, how amiable she looked in the eyes of the self- 
 upbraiding Eoline. How SWP^' and dove-like was her 
 smile, how meek and subdued Her quiet, gray eye ! 
 
 " Dear, angel Louisa," exclaimed Eoline, " what an 
 example she sets us ; she pities the poor girl, thus brought 
 into a community of strangers, pities her for the very 
 awkwardness we have despised. Fanny, it is wrong to 
 laugh at the personal defects of any human being ; wrong 
 to look upon them with scorn and derision. Come with 
 me, and you can carry her to the play -ground, and shield 
 her, if necessary, from the ridicule of her companions. 
 You are a favorite, and what you do, so will the others." 
 
 As they approached, the girl looked sulkily at Eoline 
 from under her thick eye-brows, but without noticing her 
 belligerent expression, she introduced Fanny, and asked 
 if she would not like to accompany her to the play-ground. 
 
 " I don't care if I do," said she, glancing sideways at 
 Fanny's ringlets. " What did you say her name was 1" 
 
 " Fanny, darling Fanny, we call her, for we all love her 
 so much." 
 
 " And what shall I call your name T' asked Fanny. 
 
 "Jerusha Je-usha Spots, is my name. My pa's name
 
 EOLINE J OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 127 
 
 is Jacob Spots and my mother's Betsy Spots; I was 
 named after my great aunt, that's an old maid but she's 
 got a heap of property, pa says." 
 
 Fanny's shoe-string suddenly broke or seemed to, while 
 the communicative Jerusha unfolded this interesting leaf 
 of her family history. As soon as Fanny lifted her face, 
 which was very red, Jerusha put her hand into a big satchel 
 which was swinging on her arm, and pulling out a large, 
 green apple, held it right in her face 
 
 " Won't you have an apple 1" said she, "they are mighty 
 good." 
 
 " Thank you," said Fanny, " let us go to the play 
 ground." 
 
 They started, when Jerusha, who seemed restored to 
 good-humor, ran back and offered her open satchel to Lou 
 isa and Eoline, who politely declined taking advantage 
 of her generosity. She walked, with long rolling steps, 
 by the side of the graceful Fanny, to the play-ground, 
 where she found a ready market for her green apples among 
 the romping group. Louisa put her arm within Eoline's, 
 and said 
 
 "I tried to save you from this infliction, dear Eoline. I 
 am sorry for you." 
 
 " Teach me to bear it. Give me a portion of your divine 
 philosophy." 
 
 " Alas ! I have very little myself. It is a sad trial, I 
 acknowledge, for our quiet rooms seem Edens to us, when 
 released from the harrowing duties of the day." 
 
 " And yet you sought to save me from it at the sacrifice 
 of your own peace. Ah! Louisa, I have been the child of 
 indulgence, and self, I fear, is ever uppermost in my thoughts 
 I have heard of people being restored to health, when 
 languishing on the bed of sickness, by having the pure 
 stream of life flowing in the veins of another transfused into 
 their own. Oh ! that some of your heavenly spirit could
 
 128 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 be transfused into mine, then my soul would be healed of 
 the leprosy of pride." 
 
 "Do not praise me do not call me heavenly, Eoline. I 
 cannot bear to hear you. I offered, nay, entreated, to have 
 this girl as a companion, because I knew it would not be 
 half so great a trial to me as to yourself. I was born in 
 the lap of self-denial, and the lessons instilled into me from 
 earliest childhood, you have been nobly teaching yourself. 
 Your virtues are all your own mine those of education." 
 
 At the supper table, the new scholar sat with open mouth 
 and distended eyes, gazing up and down the long table, 
 like one in a dream. She was placed by the side of Eoline, 
 being under her immediate wing, who endeavored to put 
 her more at ease by her kind attentions. She really pitied 
 her awkwardness, especially as she saw such bright, merry 
 glances darting upon her from every side. She was evi 
 dently as wild and uncultivated an animal as ever was 
 caught in the deep pine woods of the South. 
 
 When Miss Manly, according to custom, rang the little 
 bell, and called out energetically, 
 
 "Young ladies. Xerxes the Great " 
 
 Jerusha actually started from her seat, and exclaimed 
 aloud, 
 
 "Who's that!" looking wildly towards the door, as if 
 expecting to see some monster walking in. 
 
 The Colonel had to ring the bell several times before 
 order was restored, for when the girls, forgetting all rules, 
 burst into simultaneous laughter, Jerusha, without knowing 
 why, laughed more vociferously than all the rest. Indeed, 
 from having cried a great deal, and gone through a great 
 many strange feelings, she had become quite hysterical, and 
 had no control over her risibles. 
 
 " Miss Jerusha Spots," cried Miss Manly, with majestic 
 gravity, " you will become accustomed to our regulations 
 aui learn to respeot them. We always overlook and par-
 
 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 129 
 
 don the errors of inex'perience and youth. You will find 
 all our rules comprehended in the compendious aphorism 
 'order is heaven's first law, and must be obeyed.' " 
 
 Jerusha gazed upon her while she was speaking, with 
 a half-frightened, half-stupid expression, holding her knife 
 and fork suspended in the air, with her elbows squared, in 
 awful defiance of Miss Manly's military drilling. All at 
 once she turned to Eoline, and said, 
 
 "Are you the one that teaches playing on the box"? Pa 
 says / must learn." 
 
 "Miss Jerusha," interrupted Miss Manly, looking por 
 tentously at the children, ready to explode in a fresh burst 
 of laughter, " no young lady is allowed to speak at table 
 without being addressed first by her teachers. Listen in 
 silence, while we discuss the claims of Xerxes the Great, 
 to the proud epithet which historians have added to his 
 name." 
 
 Jerusha listened, and understood as much as if they had 
 conversed in a foreign tongue. As soon as supper was 
 concluded, and she accompanied Eoline to her room, she 
 said she was tired and wanted to go to bed. 
 
 " I always go to bed as soon as supper is over at home," 
 she said, beginning to unpack her trunk for her night-clothes. 
 A large, round wooden box appeared on the top, which she 
 eagerly opened. 
 
 " Won't you have a ginger-cake 1" said she, taking out 
 one in the form of a gridiron and handing it to Eoline. 
 
 "No I thank you," replied Eoline, amused, in spite of 
 herself, with her strange companion j " 1 cannot eat so soon 
 after supper." 
 
 "I couldn't eat a bit," said Jerusha, eating the ginger 
 bread with great go&t " that tall woman scared me almost 
 to death with her queer talk. Besides, I eat all the time at 
 home. I don't do nothing else. I sometimes get up in tt* 
 night and eat." 
 78
 
 130 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "I don't wonder you have the nightmare then," said 
 Eoline, more and more shocked at the idea of such a cor 
 morant for a room-mate. " You will not be allowed to do 
 it here, and it will be far better for you." 
 
 " I wonder who's to hinder me 1 Ma's going to send me 
 AS many cakes as I want, and dried beef and smoked ham, 
 tooj that she is." 
 
 "/shall hinder you," said Eoline, gently, but firmly 
 " As you share my room, you must learn to do as the other 
 young ladies do. It is not at all genteel or refined to eat 
 all the time, and it will make you look very coarse. Don't 
 you want to grow pretty and delicate, like Fanny]" 
 
 " Yes ! I shouldn't care if I did. But ma says eating will 
 make me look nice and fat. I don't want to be scrawny 
 and have all my bones show." 
 
 " I am not scrawny, am 1 1" asked Eoline, laughing. 
 
 " No, I shouldn't care if I looked like you." 
 
 " Well, I never eat but three times a day, and if you 
 stay with me, you must try to please me, and obey all Miss 
 Manly's rules. If you are a good girl, I will try to make 
 you happy and assist you in your lessons. I think you will 
 improve very much." 
 
 "Do you," cried Jerusha, an expression of delight flash 
 ing into her stupid face. " I thought you despised me." 
 
 "I hope I do not despise any one," answered the self- 
 rebuked Eoline. " I did not like to have any one in my 
 room, because I prefer being alone, and I am not accustomed 
 to a companion." 
 
 " I like you now," said Jerusha, putting on a thick cot 
 ton night-cap, which, being unrelieved by any border, made 
 her face look like the full moon of an old fashioned clock. 
 Before she retired she came up with her mouth half full of 
 gingerbread and deposited a loud smack on Eoline's rose- 
 .eaf cheek. 
 
 "I love you now " said she. " Good-night "
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 13 j 
 
 "Good-night," replied poor Eol-ine, trying to imitate 
 Louisa's Christian graces. "The child seems to have a 
 good heart," thought she. " I will try to be patient and 
 iorbearing, and perhaps I shall be able to polish her a little. 
 But, oh me ! how hard she breathes ! I never shall be able 
 to sleep. The nightmare, too, how horrible! Ah! my 
 dear father, you little know what your poor petted child 
 has to endure. Horace Cleveland, when will he return 1 
 1 wonder if he will ever again visit Magnolia Valel 
 Strange ! even while walking with the fascinating St. Leon, 
 or listening to the entrancing melody of his voice, I some 
 times wander in imagination with Horace to the two silent 
 homes of his spirit, and wait for the moving of the deep 
 waters that there roll over his soul. What a magnificent 
 man these two would make, blended in one ! Then, indeed, 
 we should see the wild sweep of the eagle, and the brood 
 ing tenderness of the dove, the supporting pillar and 
 caressing vine, strength and grace united." 
 
 She took up a beautiful bouquet, the gift of St. Leon, 
 and admired the exquisite arrangement of the flowers, the 
 light of the colors, the shade of the leaves. They exhaled 
 a dying sweetness, that penetrated her heart and filled it 
 with the softest and most pensive emotions ; again the 
 thought, how strange it would seem in Horace Cleveland 
 to present her with a token like that. 
 
 It was very late before Eoline retired to rest. With an 
 unconquerable repugnance to approach so near the uncon 
 scious, but energetically breathing Jerusha, she lingered at 
 the window, gazing on the midnight glories of the darken 
 ing firmament of June. She had extinguished her light, 
 and sat enveloped in the dim and solemn splendor of the 
 lonely hour. Tears gathered at first slowly into her eyes, 
 then they rolled down her cheeks faster and faster, and at 
 length gushed forth in a real heart-shower, deluging her 
 iace and the hands that were clasped upon her knees. She
 
 132 EOLINE; on, MAGNOLFA VALE 
 
 had not wept so long and bitterly since the first night of 
 her banishment. She had hot written to her father, for the 
 letter which she had left on the toilet the morning of her 
 departure, the letter full of a daughter's yearning love, and 
 blistered with her tears, had never been answered, and that 
 was equivalent to a ban upon all epistolary intercourse. 
 Yes ! she was a banished child, banished forever, doomed 
 to struggle with the hard realities of life, to wrestle still 
 with the iron will and selfish despotism of others. But 
 she did not regret the path she had chosen. Better the 
 prison-house, the rack, the grave itself, than the cold, un 
 loving wedlock, the false hand, the perjury of the soul, 
 from which she had fled. 
 
 Lying down on the very edge of the bed, at the immi 
 nent risk of being precipitated to the floor if she chanced 
 to sleep with such a heavy bass rolling into her ears, Eoline 
 closed her weary and burning eyes. But she did sleep, 
 and she did not fall, two very miraculous things. The 
 first object which met her wakening vision was Jeru- 
 eha up and dressed, and seated at an open window. One 
 of the virtuous habits of a country life is early rising, 
 and, as she afterwards told Eoline, she always break 
 fasted at home by candle-light all the year round, it 
 was not strange that she emulated the birds of Magnolia 
 Vale, who were singing their matin songs. She seemed 
 engaged in a very mysterious operation, of which Eoline 
 had heard, but never before witnessed. She held a large 
 black snuff-box open in her left hand, filled with fine 
 ellow powder, into which she kept dipping a stick resem 
 bling a miniature broom, then putting it in her mouth, 
 rubbed her teeth with a lazy but continued friction. She 
 appeared in a kind of ecstatic state, with her eyes 
 closed and her mouth open, filled with the yellow dust that 
 intoxicates before it stupefies. 
 
 ''Jerusha," exclaimed Eoline, leaning on her elbow,
 
 EOLINE ] OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 133 
 
 gazing upon her with a look of horror and disgust, " what 
 are you doing 1" 
 
 The child started and rolled her light eyes at Eoline 
 through her short hair, that fell in masses over her fore 
 head. 
 
 " I'm just dipping" said she, putting her hand over the 
 box, for Eoline had risen and approached her, " where's 
 the harm of that V 
 
 "I am sorry to see you indulging in so bad, so unlady 
 like a practice. I certainly never shall allow you to do it 
 in my presence, or my room, and it is expressly forbid 
 den by the rules of the seminary." 
 
 " My ma dips," cried Jerusha, boldly, for what child is 
 not emboldened by maternal example, " and aunt Jerusha 
 dips, and a heap of folks that I know I'd as soon live 
 without eating as dipping." 
 
 " You will be obliged to live without it here, Jerusha 
 it never will be permitted. Do you not wish to be a 
 lady 1 ?" 
 
 " To be sure I do. Pa says he dont care about my 
 learning books much, just so as I learn manners. That's 
 what he sent me here for, 'cause folks say, Miss Manly 
 teaches the girls how to behave, and makes them smart, 
 too." 
 
 "Well! no lady will indulge in such a habit, depend 
 upon it, and the sooner you break yourself of it the happier 
 you will be. The other girls will ridicule you, and Miss 
 Manly expel you, if you persist in it. Give me that box 
 and let me destroy it." 
 
 " I've got a heap more in my trunk." 
 
 " Give it all to me at once, and then you will be out of 
 the reach of temptation." 
 
 "I can't," said Jerusha, beginning to cry, "its nobody's 
 business but mine. It don't hurt nobody, and my ma 
 wouldn't do nothing bad, I know."
 
 134- EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " I shall speak to Miss Manly ; you will not dare dis 
 obey her." 
 
 That dreaded name seemed to intimidate the child, at 
 least after many gentle remonstrances and grave rebukes 
 on the part of Eoline, she gave up the box, and repro 
 duced the bottle which her careful mother had put in the 
 bottom of her trunk. Eoline encouraged her with warm 
 praises, and told her she was greater than Xerxes the 
 Great, whom Miss Manly had talked about the night 
 before, for he had never conquered himself and she had. 
 But poor Jerusha's bad habits were like the Hydra, with 
 unnumbered heads ; as fast as one was destroyed another 
 rose with equal life and energy. The next thing she 
 attacked were the beautiful roses, which made an in-door 
 summer in the little apartment. She began to pick them 
 to pieces, and chew the leaves like a ruminating animal, 
 making a very unpleasant sound with her teeth. 
 
 " You must not do that," said Eoline, " you must let my 
 flowers alone. I should not put them in water if I did not 
 wish to keep them." 
 
 " You won't let me do nothing," cried Jerusha, impa 
 tiently, taking a pair of scissors from Eoline's work-box, 
 and cutting her nails over its elegant contents. Eoline 
 was ready to cry with vexation, but she held down the 
 swelling flood, and told her to take the Bible and com 
 mit a verse to memory to recite at the breakfast-table. 
 
 " I will select one for you," said Eoline, kindly. 
 
 " No I want to find one myself, I know how," cried 
 ehe, elevating her right shoulder, and looking at Eoline 
 over it. 
 
 At the breakfast-table, when it came her turn to recite, 
 in a loud, grum voice, that expressed her consciousness 
 of being able to do as well as any of them in this exercise^ 
 if she did not know who Xerxes the Great was, she re-
 
 EOLINE, OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 135 
 
 peated, " And the Lord said unto Moses and Aaron, 
 Baying " 
 
 " I know how to spell Aaron," she whispered to Eoline, 
 after the recitation was concluded, "great A, little a-r-o-n." 
 
 " No whispering," cried Miss Manly ; " it is a violation 
 of the Chesterfieldian rules of politeness, and is never 
 allowed in the Magnolia Vale Seminary." 
 
 Jerusha shook her dull, sandy hair over her eyes, and 
 sat still a few moments, but when a tall, handsome black 
 man, who assisted in waiting on the table, took her plate 
 and asked her what she would be helped to, she electrified 
 every one by calling for bacon and greens. In short, there 
 was no end to Jerusha's gaucheries. They were equal in 
 number to the sands of the sea-shore, and the drops of the 
 ocean. In the school-room, Miss Manly found it impossible 
 to preserve the silence and order which were the crowning 
 glories of her institution. The children sat, their hands 
 pressing hard on their mouths, with red and inflated cheeks, 
 stealing side-long glances from their books at the rara avis 
 alighted among their flock. When reading, she kept her 
 fore-finger slipping along the line, and she would stop and 
 spell all the hard words, with a loud, determined accent, 
 through her nose. But her exploits on the recitation bench 
 were nothing to what she achieved in the music-room, when 
 Eoline gave her the first lesson in her divine art. She had 
 never before seen a piano, and when she put her short, 
 red fingers on the keys, and felt the little black and white 
 things jumping up and down, she fairly screamed with de 
 light. 
 
 "Look, look!" she cried, "they hop just like parched 
 corn. They play Jack and Jill, don't they 1" 
 
 She had on a large pair of nankin mitts, which terminated 
 in a long point over the back of her hand, but Eoline told 
 her she must take them off, as they impeded the motion ol 
 her fingers. She hid her hands behind her for a long time,
 
 136 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 Baying they were so red she was ashamed, but at length she 
 laid the substantial members on the delicate ivory, by the 
 side of Eoline's, as fair as the ivory, and far more beautiful, 
 because they wore the soft blush of life. 
 
 " I won't put my hands 'long side of yourn, so there !" 
 cried Jerusha, positively, putting them again behind her, 
 and Eoline was compelled to let her draw on the big, long 
 pointed mitts, before she would touch the keys. Eoline 
 realized for the first time the full weight of man's primeval 
 curse " By the sweat of thy brow shalt though earn thy 
 bread j" for again and again did she wipe the laboring 
 moisture from her snowy forehead before Jerusha was dis 
 missed from her morning lesson. 
 
 Mr. Spots had given Miss Manly a carte-blanche, to be 
 filled as her judgment directed to supply his daughter's 
 wardrobe. He wanted nothing omitted to make her fashion 
 able and genteel, and Miss Manly, for the credit of her 
 establishment, faithfully attended to his instructions. She 
 did, indeed, work a surprising change in the exterior of the 
 young savage, but there was no chemic art which could 
 reach the coarse, hard texture of her vulgar mind. Her 
 nature had become too completely animalized, for immor 
 tal longings to be awakened within it. Had Eoline been 
 condemned, as a penance for her sins, to wear around her 
 bosom a girdle of hair cloth, and to sleep upon a bed ot 
 iron, she could scarcely have suffered greater torture than 
 she endured in such a room-mate. She resolved to fulfil 
 her engagements with Miss Manly indeed, she had no other 
 alternative but if the wide, wide world contained anothei 
 nome, she determined to seek it before the commencement 
 of a new session. 
 
 Without being positively wicked or bad, Jerusha war 
 mischievous and mischief-making. She had an insatiable 
 curiosity to hear every thing; would listen at the door, 
 peep through the key-hole, and every thing she heard and
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 137 
 
 eaw she would run and tell Miss Manly. One by one, 
 Eoline found herself curtailed of all her heart pleasures. 
 The stolen visits of her young favorites, after the evening 
 bell, no longer gladdened her room, for Miss Manly, in 
 formed of this infringement of her lules, commenced a 
 nightly inspection of the dormitories, and about half-an- 
 hour after the curfew, the commanding steps of the Colo 
 nel were heard echoing through the long passage, where 
 then reigned the stillness of death. If Eoline left her 
 own and escaped to Louisa's room, Jerusha was sure to 
 follow, saying she was afraid to be alone, and she did not 
 know how to study by herself. 
 
 One evening Miss Manly and Uncle Ben took the pupils 
 to Mentebello, to hear a celebrated lecturer on Phre 
 nology. It was a favorite science of Miss Manly's, who 
 had been told she had a remarkable head, and the organs 
 of Self-esteem and Firmness, were, indeed, most wonder 
 fully developed. She took Louisa with her, to keep the 
 children in the rear in due order, while she marched in the 
 van. Eoline remained at home, notwithstanding Misa 
 Manly's evident displeasure. She longed for the luxury 
 of being alone, and as it was a lovely moonlight night, 
 she went and sat in the piazza, where the lofty shadow of 
 the Tree of Heaven played on the silvery-shining pillars 
 and dewy grass. Soft as the falling dew, the perfect still 
 ness and quietude of the scene descended with balmy in 
 fluence on Eoline's chafed and weary spirit. She took 
 out her comb and suffered her hair to float back in the 
 night breeze that fanned her aching brow. She had been 
 hard, hard at work all day long, and all the week long, 
 and all the month long. Miss Manly was making great 
 preparations for a public examination and a public con 
 cert, and as she had no mercy on herself, she had none on 
 her assistants. She had an iron frame and an iron spirit, 
 which seemed incapable of fatigue, and though when sick
 
 138 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 ness actually bowed the frame, and confined the sufferer 
 to a sick bed, no one could be kinder or more attentive, 
 she could not conceive it possible that one as young and 
 elastic as Eoline, should bend beneath a burden she deemed 
 very light in comparison to her own. But Eoline, who 
 had been dwelling lately in a narrowing circle of com 
 forts, joys she had really none, and whose labors were con 
 stantly increasing, began to wilt under the dreary mono 
 tony of her life. She felt that burning calenture of the 
 soul, which pants for a native atmosphere and a genial 
 home. While thus she sat, with one arm encircling a pil 
 lar, her temples bared to the coolness of the hour, and the 
 shadow of a drooping vine upon her brow, St. Leon camo 
 across the lawn, and ascended the steps of the piazza. 
 
 " Why art thou seated in silence here, light of the dewy 
 night 1" exclaimed he, his eyes beaming with pleasure, 
 and sitting down beside her. " And why seems thy spirit 
 sad, oh, blue-eyed daughter of Glenmore 1" 
 
 "And why dost thou seek me, son of the moonlight 
 hour!" answered she, smiling, in the same Ossianic style, 
 to which she was accustomed from his poetic lips. " 1 
 dwell in darkness here- wide over me flies the shadowy 
 mist. Filled with dew are my locks." As she spoke, she 
 attempted to gather them in her hand, and he might well 
 have addressed her, as "the maid with far- wandering 
 hair." 
 
 " Do not," he exclaimed, with a deprecatory motion. 
 "You look so wildly romantic, so poetically lovely, I 
 cannot bear that you should break the charm, by impri 
 soning those beautiful tresses. You speak of dwelling in 
 darkness ; but you are covered with the light of Heaven, 
 and the mist tarns to silver as it flies over your brow." 
 
 " Surely, Mr. St. Leon, you must be a poet as well as 
 musician. At least, you speak in poetry, if you do not 
 write it." - :
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 139 
 
 " I *>ave, written lately," he replied : ' The morning sun 
 has risen upon Memnon, and the lyre of his soul respond? 
 in music.' " 
 
 " Pray talk to me in prose to-night, Mr. St. Leon, for I 
 feel sadly dull and matter-of-fact ; though an eolian harp, 
 the breath of heaven itself could not wake one note oi 
 melody now in my weary spirit." 
 
 " You are weary. I see it, and grieve for it," he cried, 
 changing his high-wrought strain for one of deep feeling. 
 " Miss Glenmore, I know your history. I honor, I adore 
 the noble independence of your character, even more than 
 I admire your matchless beauty and celestial voice." 
 
 Eoline started, and the deepest blushes mantled her 
 face. 
 
 " How did you learn what I believed known only to my 
 father and myself, and one individual," she added, " most 
 deeply interested"?" 
 
 "You cannot believe," he answered, "that the daughter 
 of Mr. Glenmore, who had just arisen, a brilliant star on 
 the social horizon that bounded her father's princely man 
 sion, could disappear from the firmament, without exciting 
 the interest and wonder of the world. Believe me, if these 
 walls were not defended by a guardian more formidable 
 than Cerberus, you would be surrounded by admirers more 
 numerous than the leaves of Vallambrosa." 
 
 " I do not like to hear you allude to Miss Manly in this 
 manner," said Eoline, gravely, "when you treat her with 
 such studied politeness." 
 
 "It is for your sake, Eoline," he answered. "I coul 
 kneel for hours at her feet, if by so doing, I could insure, 
 for one moment, the delight of your presence." 
 
 " St. Leon, I adore sincerity," Eoline answered with 
 warmth, " as much as I abhor deceit." 
 
 "I hope, I pray you do not suspect me of the last!" he 
 cried, with great earnestness.
 
 14*0 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " Is it not deceit to profess an interest in another you do 
 not feel, to show respect and deference to one whom you 
 do not respect, merely to spend a passing hour with one for 
 whom, perhaps, you really care as little 1" 
 
 " Eoline, you are severe, unkind," he exclaimed, rising 
 and pulling the vine-wreaths from the pillar without know 
 ing what he was doing. " I do not deserve this from you. 
 After sacrificing so much, submitting to so much, for the 
 sake of breathing the same air that you breathe, for the 
 mere privilege of being near you, and lightening, if possi 
 ble, your heavy burden of servitude, I had hoped for more 
 mercy, more justice. Besides, I really do respect Miss 
 Manly." 
 
 "I did not mean to be severe or unkind," said Eoline, 
 in a gentle but troubled voice. " I merely meant to be 
 true. You speak of sacrifices you have made for me. 
 Indeed, I am well aware, and have been so from our first 
 interview, that you are not what you seem, that you are 
 departing as much from your natural sphere as I am from 
 mine, in assuming a subordinate position. If it is on my 
 account you have done this, I cannot allow it one mo 
 ment longer. Instead of lightening my burden of servi 
 tude, it will only make it doubly, trebly heavy." 
 
 St. Leon's languishing eyes flashed with a dark fire. 
 
 " I did not think my presence so oppressive," cried he, 
 in a tone of suppressed passion. " I did not think myself 
 an object of such intense dislike." 
 
 " It is not dislike, it is not oppression that I feel," said 
 Eoline, admiring the spirit of St. Leon far more than his 
 boyish grace. " Conscious of the sufferings I myself feel 
 in being in an uncongenial element, I cannot assume the 
 responsibility of those another must endure. Besides, and 
 be not angry that I say it, I would gladly believe that some 
 higher, greater motive had induced you to bow your pride 
 to the yoke you now wear."
 
 EOLINE J OB MAGNOLIA VALE. 14 I 
 
 " I can imagine no higher motive than the one which 
 now governs every thought, feeling, and action," said St. 
 Leon, his color visibly deepening in the moonlight. Eoline 
 was agitated. So much of her present happiness, and 
 email indeed was the portion, depended upon the nature 
 of her intercourse with St. Leon, that she trembled at the 
 thought of its changing. It is so natural for the young 
 and disengaged heart of woman to feel pleasure in the so 
 ciety and admiring attentions of the other sex, that Eoline 
 had never analyzed the emotions St. Leon inspired. In 
 her father's home, when surrounded by all that was 
 dear and precious to the soul, she would have delighted in 
 mingling her voice with the rich music of his, and listen 
 ing to his refined and romantic sentiments. How much 
 more, then, in her state of exile, in the cold, ungenial at 
 mosphere Miss Manly diffused around her ! When singing 
 with St. Leon, the sweet, impassioned songs of Italy, 
 walking with him in the perfumed shades of Magnolia 
 Vale, or sitting with him in the silver stillness of the 
 moonlight hour, she seemed in her native element she 
 was at home she felt happy she was grateful in her 
 loneliness, for so pleasing and interesting a friend. But 
 when he presented himself before her in the aspect of a 
 lover, she was startled. The question found her unpre 
 pared. Were life all music, and flowers, and moonlight, 
 he would not have asked for a more charming companion, 
 to walk hand in hand with her through its clouds of fra 
 grance, or to float with her over its waves of melody and 
 floods of light. But in the storm and the tempest, th 
 hour of darkness and desolation, where was the heart of 
 strength and the arm of power, where the strong tower in 
 the day of trouble 1 As these thoughts rolled through 
 her mind, and the lights and shadows flitted over her face, 
 like the flash of the moonbeams and the shade of the vine- 
 leaves, St. Leon stood gazing upon her with an intensity
 
 142 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 of emotion, that deprived him of the use of language. 
 At length she looked up with a very sweet smile, though 
 a pensive one. 
 
 " You shall not again accuse me of being unkind," said 
 she, " for I will speak to you with the frankness of a sister. 
 It has been very pleasant for me to look upon you as a 
 friend, for sadly have I felt the need of one. I am not 
 insensible to the interest you manifest in my destiny. 
 Believe me, I am grateful for it. But if you value my 
 happiness, still address me as a friend. Should you force 
 me to look upon you in any other light, my position here 
 would be one of peculiar embarrassment. Promise me 
 that for the short time we are associated together in this 
 institution, that you will be to me all that you have ever 
 been, neither less nor more." 
 
 "And then," exclaimed St. Leon, eagerly, "shall I be 
 rewarded for my forbearance by the privilege of being 
 more, far morel Oh, Eoline, I am rich my father is 
 rolling in affluence. I can place you in the station you 
 were born to adorn. I can cradle you in the lap of smil 
 ing fortune, and lay you upon its downy pillow." 
 
 " For worlds I would not deceive you, St. Leon," cried 
 Eoline, moved by his generous ardor, yet shrinking from 
 its warmth, "nor would I trifle with your affections. I 
 cannot answer for the present, I dare not promise for the 
 future. I do not know my own heart. I do not know 
 that I have a heart," added she, smiling, and laying her 
 hand with a grateful emotion on the folds of her white 
 muslin dress. " I believe I am a very strange young girl. 
 1 sometimes think there is a tissue of asbestos woven 
 around me, impenetrable to that flame which is said to 
 illumine the universe. That I have very deep, peculiar, 
 and solemn feelings with regard to a subject so often 
 lightly thought of, you must be aware, since you seem 
 familiar with the circumstances that brought me here. I
 
 EOLINE J OE, MAGNOLIA VALE. 143 
 
 believe I have boundless capacities, unfathomable sensi 
 bilities which have never yet awakened. Be silent till we 
 part, and I promise you, by my maiden truth, if I feel the 
 movements of the angel troubling the deep waters, I will 
 ingenuously acknowledge it." 
 
 Eoline paused with an angelic blush. There was such 
 purity in her countenance, such modesty in her manner, 
 and such dignity and candor in her sentiments, that St. 
 Leon dared not express the enthusiastic emotions this dis 
 tant hope inspired. He could have prostrated himself at 
 her feet, in the humility of oriental devotion, but he 
 feared to offend the beautiful and vestal simplicity of her 
 character. 
 
 "And now," said Eoline, rising, like a true heroine of 
 Ossian, in the midst of her veiling locks, " let me solicit 
 of you a great favor that is, to leave me. Should Miss 
 Manly return and find you here, she will probably imagine 
 it a preconcerted meeting, as I displeased her by remain 
 ing behind. You know I have not too many roses in my 
 path I would not court the thorns." 
 
 " My right hand shall wither ere it willingly plant a thorn 
 in your path, Eoline," replied St. Leon, while the passion 
 she had forbidden him to express in words, added tenfold 
 softness and brilliancy to his dark, expressive eyes. 
 
 "It is too late," exclaimed Eoline, in a tone of vexation, 
 resuming her seat in the shadow of the vine. 
 
 The Colonel and her retinue were seen marching with 
 measured steps up the gravel walk Uncle Ben acting as 
 van-guard. The moment she beheld St. Leon, standing by 
 the side of Eoline, and the exceedingly romantic appearance 
 of the young lady herself, her countenance fell far below 
 zero. She actually turned pale, a change that seldom oc 
 curred on the surface of her face, and cast a withering 
 glance at the twain from her Saturn-like orbs.
 
 144 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "I thought Miss Glenmore remained at home OP the 
 plea of solitude," said she, with emphasis. 
 
 " And so she did," interrupted St. Leon, " but I intruded 
 upon it, with my perhaps unwelcome presence. I did not 
 know " he was about to say, with the admitted insincerity 
 of the world, " that he did not know he should not have the 
 honor of her society," when the earnest assertion of Eoline, 
 " that she adored sincerity," and a glance of her truth-beam 
 ing eye restrained the words, and the unfinished sentence 
 died on his lips. 
 
 " We had better issue a new edition of 'Solitude Sweet 
 ened,' " said Miss Manly, sarcastically. 
 
 " Come, come !" said Uncle Ben, patting Eoliae affec 
 tionately on the shoulder. " Little David has worked too 
 hard lately. She shall do just as she pleases, go or stay, 
 and nobody shall molest or make her afraid." 
 
 While this scene was passing, the pupils had walked 
 demurely to their dormitories, followed by Louisa, who 
 looked pityingly on Eoline, as she passed. 
 
 Eoline, bidding St. Leon a hasty good night, was about 
 to leave the piazza, when the voice of Miss Manly arrested 
 ner. The lady had lost her usual self-command, for she 
 was under the influence of that regal passion, to whose in 
 fluence even the royal virgin of England once bowed. 
 
 " Miss Glenmore, I wish to say to you, in the presence 
 of Mr. St. Leon, that he, too, may understand me fully on 
 this subject, that I do not approve of your conduct to-night, 
 It sets a bad example to the young ladies under my guar 
 dianship, for whose morals I am personally responsible, 
 while they dwell in Magnolia Vale. I am myself so ex 
 ceedingly particular in attending to the rules of propriety, 
 that the tongues of the most fastidious must ever be silent. 
 Sorry, indeed, should I be, to have the venom of slander 
 attack the institution, whose unimpeachable reputation is
 
 EOLINE , OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 145 
 
 my pit(& and my glory, through the imprudence of one of 
 my assistants." 
 
 The proud Glenmore spirit surged high in the bosom of 
 Eoline at this unexampled attack. 
 
 " I came here expecting protection from insult," cried 
 she, with insuppressible emotion, " not to submit to it, 
 Miss Manly. You will do well to supply yourself with 
 another music teacher, for I do assure you I will never give 
 another lesson in your seminary till I receive atonement 
 for the injury of this moment." 
 
 She looked involuntarily towards St. Leon, expecting a 
 noble outburst of feeling in vindication of her outraged 
 delicacy. He looked excessively embarrassed. There was 
 a frown upon his brow, and a flush upon his cheek, but 
 instead of uttering the manly determination of also with 
 drawing, he stammered and declared that he bitterly re 
 gretted being the cause of such a misunderstanding, that 
 he would not for the universe have visited Miss Glenmore 
 without the sanction of Miss Manly's presence, had he 
 been aware of its being a violation of her rules. 
 
 "I hope," continued he, with one of those graceful bows, 
 which seemed as natural to him as the swaying of the wil 
 low's branches, "that I shall be able to restore the harmo 
 ny I have interrupted, and that Miss Glenmore may never 
 again suffer reproach for my imprudence and presumption." 
 
 " Oh ! why," thought Eoline, giving him a glance that 
 brought the conscious blood to his cheek, " why does he 
 not boldly and bravely assert his rights and mine 1 Why 
 does he not express his indignant sense of my wounded 
 feelings, and avenge the insult offered to himself? Why 
 does he not come forward as the champion of my reputa 
 tion, and oppose with breast of steel, the arrows of calum 
 ny and malice. I do believe there is more of manly spirit 
 in my girlish breast than in his." 
 
 All this St. Leon read in the kindling light of her coun 
 79
 
 146 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 tenance, and he could have writhed in agony at the convic- 
 hon that he was wanting in that strength and power of 
 spirit to which she silently and vainly appealed. He could 
 have bartered a kingdom, were it his, to recall the smooth 
 words by which he had sought to allay the storm he should 
 have nobly breasted. He turned away in bitterness of 
 soul, fearing he had lost a treasure he would willingly 
 purchase, even if life were to be the immediate sacrifice. 
 
 " Niece, niece !" cried Uncle Ben, detaining Eoline, 
 who again attempted to pass the threshhold, " this will 
 never do. You ought to be more tender with her. She 
 is nothing but a young thing, that ought to be petted, in 
 stead of scolded. Turn round, little puss, niece did not 
 mean half what she said, she never does, she's sorry for 
 it already. What, you won't look at me ! You are not 
 angry with old Uncle Ben, I hope 1" 
 
 " No, indeed, Uncle Ben, I shall never forget your kind 
 ness, never ; I thank you for it, even now, but i cannot 
 cry peace, when there is no peace. Unless I hear an apo 
 logy from Miss Manly's own lips, I shall consider the 
 engagement between us forever dissolved. Let me go." 
 
 Uncle Ben almost wrung her hand off before he let it go, 
 when she ran up stairs, before St. Leon had time to address 
 her again. As she flew along, she heard something rushing 
 behind her, with clattering steps, like an animal. It was 
 dark, for the lamp in the passage had gone out, and she 
 knew not what enemy was in the rear. It seemed too 
 large and heavy for a cat, too clumsy for a dog. Onward 
 he ran, through the long, long passage, with the unknown 
 monster lumbering and panting behind, till she reached 
 her own door, and fell perfectly breathless against it. A 
 pair of strong arms grasped her round the neck, and she 
 was about to utter a wild shriek, when a voice she well 
 Knew, called out, 
 
 " What you frightened for 1 It is nothing but me,"
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 147 
 
 "Jerusha!" exclaimed Eoline, shaking off the unwel 
 come embrace. " How dare you terrify me so 1 And 
 where did you come from 1" 
 
 " I was afraid to come up by myself, and just stopped 
 down there till you were ready I thought you knew 
 'twas me." 
 
 Louisa came out with her candle, hearing the voice 
 of Eoline. She was alarmed, for the pallid hue of terror 
 still overspread her face. 
 
 " They will be my death !" cried she, throwing herself 
 into Louisa's arms, and laughing and crying in the same 
 breath. " Stay and sleep with me to-night ; perhaps the 
 last night we shall ever be together. I will make a pallet 
 for Jerusha on the floor. Let me feel your dear, kind arms 
 around me, for my heart is sorely oppressed !" 
 
 " I don't want to sleep on the floor, I know," cried Je 
 rusha, poutingly; " 'tis too hard." 
 
 " Be obliging, Jerusha, said Louisa ; " we can make you 
 very comfortable." 
 
 " No let her keep her place, and I will go to your 
 room, Louisa," cried Eoline, "that is, if you do not object." 
 
 " If you do, I'll go, too, " exclaimed Jerusha, stoutly. 
 " I ain't going to stay here alone all night, to save nobody's 
 life." 
 
 Eoline, with a despairing sigh, sat down on the side of 
 the bed, with Louisa's arm around her. Neither of them 
 spoke for some time. In the meanwhile, Jerusha took 
 possession of the bed, and soon gave audible testimony tha 
 she was asleep. A step, rather less firm than usual, wa 
 heard in the passage. It was Miss Manly on her nocturnal 
 tour. Eoline's heart beat more quickly, when giving a 
 quick rap, she entered and stood before her. 
 
 " What is it, now 1" thought the young music teacher, 
 "strife or peace 1 expiation or fresh insult!" 
 
 " Miss Glenmore," said she, trying to speak in a oiander
 
 14<8 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 tone than usual, " I am willing to acknowledge that I have 
 spoken without my usual caution and judgment to-night. 
 I am placed in a very peculiar situation, and in my extreme 
 anxiety to avoid even the appearance of evil, I may be 
 led into error, for I do not claim infallibility. As I never 
 encourage the visits of young gentlemen myself, nor allow 
 my pupils to receive them, it did strike me as very impru 
 dent when I found you had passed the evening alone with 
 Mr. St. Leon, after refusing to accompany us, on the plea 
 of fatigue and a desire for loneliness. I spoke hastily 
 I regret it I have said so to Mr. St. Leon I repeat now 
 the same to you.".. 
 
 There did seem some dignity in this apology, coming 
 from so stiff and proud a woman. It was not without 
 a bitter sense of humiliation that she had compelled herself 
 to make it, but she knew the value of Eoline's services 
 too well to suffer her to leave her, when she expected her 
 to give such brilliancy to her public concerts. Moreover, 
 she had a high sense of justice and truth, and the moment 
 the gust of passion was over, she acquitted Eoline of all 
 premeditation and design. Eoline was as generous as she 
 was high-souled. She took no pleasure in the humiliation 
 of an enemy, and the apparent consciousness of error on 
 their part, was immediately followed by forgiveness on hers. 
 She bowed her head, and said, 
 
 "It is enough, Miss Manly! I ask nothing more !" 
 And thus the wound was seemingly healed, but a scar 
 remained. Eoline felt hereafter as if she were watched 
 in the presence of St. Leon, whose impassioned feelings 
 for herself became more and more evident. And just in 
 proportion was the manifestation of Miss Manly's jealousy. 
 She struggled with it, she tried to master it, but it had a 
 vitality that would not be destroyed. The greatest of hu 
 man beings have one vulnerable point. There was one 
 ppot in the heel of Achilles, which the waters of the Styx
 
 EOLINE; on, MAGNOLIA VALE. 149 
 
 had not bathed, there was one place in the heart of Miss 
 Manly, which an arrow had pierced. If the goddess-born 
 had their weaknesses, we cannot expect mortals to be 
 exempt. 
 
 It wanted now about a month of the Examination, an 
 event which was contemplated with no little anxiety by 
 more than one dweller in Magnolia Vale.
 
 CHAPTER VU. 
 
 The approaching Examination was a kind oi pivot, on 
 which every thought and action now turned. Miss Manly 
 had a remarkable power of awakening the ambition of her 
 pupils. She had so constantly placed before them heroic 
 and striking examples, that almost all looked forward to 
 the time, when the epithet Great would be attached to 
 their names, and immortality their portion. It is true 
 they ridiculed Miss Manly's peculiarities and originalities 
 behind her back ; they called her the Colonel, and mimick 
 ed her assumption of supreme command; but with all 
 this, they really-respected her, and felt the influence of 
 her strong mind on theirs. They saw her exclusive devo 
 tion to the cause of education, that she sacrificed her time 
 and her strength to the interests of the school, and that 
 though severe and exacting, she was consistent and true. 
 She never threatened, never scolded. She laid down her 
 rules, fixed, immutable rules, and their violation was im 
 mediately followed by the known penalty. She might 
 have represented justice, with her scales, weighing every 
 thing, even the pound of flesh, with unwavering hand. 
 Were the elements of our being purely intellectual, did 
 not the heart and the affections demand cultivation, did 
 hey not require the kind and genial sunshine, as well as 
 the clear, bracing air, such a system would be admirable ; 
 but when children are removed from the endearments of 
 home, when no mother's breast can pillow, no sister's 
 arms entwine, they need the influence of love diffused 
 around them, or their young heart-tendrils will droop for 
 want of support, their budding tenderness wither and die. 
 
 (150)
 
 EOLINE; OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 151 
 
 But now they were all animated by the spirit of study. 
 Under every spreading tree, in every shaded corner, in lit 
 tle shanties, which they had built themselves with branches 
 and leaves, were seen busy groups intent upon their books, 
 or bending over their slates and pencils. Louisa began to 
 hear recitations soon after the morning bell rang, and 
 finished not till the twilight, and Eoline scarcely breathed 
 out of the walls of the music-room. Close as was the 
 confinement and constant the toil she there endured, she 
 preferred it to the apartment now desecrated by Jerusha, 
 or the parlor, where she was sure to encounter the impas 
 sioned glances of St. Leon. They gave her a feeling of 
 unrest, of indecision, which made her unhappy. His love 
 seemed to her more like romance than reality. It gilded 
 her imagination, played upon her heart, and warmed its 
 surface. Whether it would penetrate deeper and deeper, 
 time alone would prove. 
 
 Once, after a weary day, she happened to be alone in 
 her chamber, an unusual coincidence, for Jerusha followed 
 her like a shadow. She was pale and languid. Her arms 
 fell listless at her side, and her eyes were turned towards 
 the fading horizon of the West. So deeply was she ab 
 sorbed in thought, she did not hear even the stately steps 
 of Miss Manly, till they paused at her door. 
 
 "Shall I come in!" said she, in a kinder voice than 
 usual. 
 
 " I consider it quite a favor," said Eoline, greeting her 
 with as much ceremony as if she were a stranger. It was 
 impossible to be informal with Miss Manly. 
 
 "You have confined yourself very much lately, Miss 
 Glenmore. You have been exceedingly faithful to your 
 duties, and the pupils will do great credit to your instruc 
 tions. You have done more than I could with justice 
 have exacted, but not more than I am willing to be grate 
 ful for. Another thing I will take the liberty of saying
 
 152 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 I observe, with approbation of your propriety, that you 
 studiously avoid alluring the young gentleman, whom I 
 myself have perhaps imprudently made your associate. 
 We should always be upon our guard with strangers, 
 and there is a certain bound which discretion should not 
 pass." 
 
 She paused, but as Eoline was silent, continued 
 
 " You have not been pleased with your room-mate, and 
 I grant, she cannot be the most congenial of companions. 
 The young miss, who has been the sharer of my apart 
 ment, leaves to-morrow, for domestic reasons, and I came 
 to tell you that Jerusha can take her place. I will have 
 her things removed from your room to-night." 
 
 Eoline clapped her hands together with rapture a joy 
 ous color brightened her cheek. 
 
 " Thank you, dear Miss Manly, a thousand, thousand 
 times. Oh ! what a favor ! what a blessing ! I feel like 
 a new being already. But I really grieve to think of the 
 awful infliction it will be to you. You have no concep 
 tion what she is." 
 
 "When the mind is fixed upon one great object," re 
 plied Miss Manly, somewhat moved by Eoline's enthusi 
 astic gratitude, " minor things appear comparative trifles. 
 When I assumed the responsibilities of my station, I gave 
 up ease and pleasure. I knew they were incompatible 
 with the stern and self-denying duties of a teacher. I 
 have never shrunk from labor or inconvenience, never 
 hesitated to sacrifice personal comfort to public good. I 
 ook upon myself as a missionary in a great and holy 
 cause, and having taken the cross^upon my shoulders, I 
 shall bear it with a firm step and an unshrinking spirit. 
 Those who would lie on beds of down, and pillow on 
 roses, should never think of the onerous and ungrateful 
 vocation to which I have devoted myself with the zeal of 
 martyr."
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 153 
 
 Eoline looked upon Miss Manly with respect. There 
 was much in her of the material of which martyrs are made 
 and heroes moulded. She seemed to have forgotten for the 
 moment all her artificial dignity, and expressed herself 
 naturally and energetically, as any strong-minded woman 
 would. She was displaying one of the rich, thick satin 
 stripes of her character. What a pity the flimsy gauze 
 would sometimes appear. 
 
 " You have astonishing energy and perseverance," said 
 Eoline. " I have seen you with wonder and admiration sus 
 tain a weight of care, sufficient to bow many a strong man to 
 the dust. But if I had my own will, it would be the last 
 vocation I should choose." 
 
 " I know it well, Miss Glenmore. You were formed for 
 a different sphere, one to which I doubt not you will short 
 ly return. I have heard of the motives which induced you 
 to quit your father's protection, and it would be doing in 
 justice to your independence and principles, not to say that 
 I approve and honor them." 
 
 " Indeed!" exclaimed Eoline, blushing, " I was not aware 
 that you knew anything of my private history. Had I 
 supposed that you would have sympathized in my feelings, 
 I would long since have told you all. I did not expect I did 
 not know " she paused, in embarrassment, then added 
 ingenuously, " I do no not think I have done you justice, 
 Miss Manly. You have more feeling and kindness than I 
 have given you credit for. I came here a very proud, in 
 experienced young girl, born to affluence and indulgence 
 a perfect novice in the school of discipline and action. I 
 should have found any service hard, and I have no doubt 
 pride has magnified my trials and darkened my judgment. 
 For your present kindness, I thank you. I prize it more for 
 its being unexpected. It reconciles me to a great deal that 
 I was beginning to feel intolerable." 
 
 Eoline spoke with earnest grace, and held out ner hand
 
 154 EOLINE; on, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 to Miss Manly, who rose to leave her. The latter 
 evidently pleased with Eoline's frank and grateful manner, 
 but she was as evidently afraid of committing herself by 
 being too soft and amiable. With one of her own deep, 
 majestic bows she retired, leaving Eoline almost wild with 
 delight. The great stone was about to be rolled away 
 from the sepulchre of her contentment. Jerusha was to be 
 removed. She was free she was free. Flying to Louisa's 
 room, and catching up a light scarf from the bed, she 
 wreathed it gracefully about her arms, and danced round 
 the astonished girl, like the gay Eoline of Glenmore 
 Place. 
 
 " Joy, Louisa, joy," she cried, " come and help me ga 
 ther laurels to make a crown for Miss Manly's brow ; oh ! 
 what a good, glorious woman she is. She has taken Jerusha 
 to herself, and we can renew the dear, quiet intercourse so 
 long interrupted. What ungrateful creatures we are ! I 
 was sitting moping and almost crying, about to plunge in 
 the slough of despondency, like Bunyan's Pilgrim, when in 
 came Giant Great-heart, and drew me out with a strong, 
 relieving hand. Shame on me, to breathe a word that 
 could sound like disrespect to Miss Manly, when I owe her 
 such a debt of gratitude. She has bound me to her by 
 cords that never can be broken. I am her friend now, 
 henceforth and forever." 
 
 Louisa had never seen Eoline in such joyous spirits 
 and most truly did she sympathize in her joy. They went 
 to the play-ground, where the girls were still lingering, and 
 ~E)line challenged Uncle Ben to run with her a thing she 
 had not done for a long time. Clapping his hands, with 
 boyish glee, he caught up the gauntlet she dropped at his feet, 
 and began the chase. But he might as well have attempted 
 to catch the wild-deer of the forest, as the light-footed and 
 momentarily light-hearted girl. He soon gave up the pur 
 suit in despair but Eoline had the whole school in chase
 
 EOLINE $ OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 155 
 
 of her, and as the enemy lay in ambush, too, Uncle Ben 
 had his revenge in her captivity. All were engaged in the 
 sport but Jerusha, who sat under a tree, in the corner of 
 the yard, joyless and alone. Eoline, panting from her race, 
 went to her, and asked her if she were sick. 
 
 " No, I ain't sick," said she, sullenly, " I know what makea 
 you so glad and frisky ; I heard you tell Miss Louisa all 
 about it. But I won't stay with Miss Manly j I'll go home 
 first. T ain't agoing to be hauled about from pillar to post, 
 as if I was nobody when I'm as good as any body. My 
 pa is as smart as other folks' pa's, and my ma, too. They 
 won't see me snubbed." 
 
 Eoline was really sorry for the mortification of the child j 
 but what could she say to comfort her 1 She had intended 
 to repress the exuberance of her joy in her presence, to 
 avoid wounding her feelings but the inveterate listener 
 had defeated her kind intentions. 
 
 " I told you I preferred being alone," said she, gently. 
 " I did not deceive you and I do feel very glad to have 
 my room to myself again. But I have always been kind to 
 you, Jerusha, and tried to make you happy, while with 
 me you know I have." 
 
 "Yes! that's a fact," cried Jerusha, vehemently, and 
 beginning to cry at the same time; "you've always been 
 good to me and I don't want to go away from you ; you've 
 learned me how to behave', too ; and pa says he'd rather 
 I'd be like you, than any body else 'cause you are so 
 smart. He'll be as mad as fire that he will." 
 
 The supper-bell rang, but Jerusha said she did not want 
 any supper and she wouldn't eat to save Miss Manly's 
 life j so they left her under the tree in solitude. But she 
 was not allowed to starve for half-a-dozen of the girls 
 slipped biscuits in their sleeves, and carried to her, fearing 
 she would die if she went supperless to bed. They did not 
 know that she had her pockets full of cake and cheese, and
 
 156 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 that she regaled herself sumptuously under the tree, while 
 they supposed she was shedding rivers of tears. 
 
 Jerusha had not a particle of malice or revenge in her 
 disposition ; and the next night she told Eoline she was 
 mighty well satisfied, and she liked to be with Miss Manly 
 a heap better than she expected that she hadn't scolded 
 her one bit yet, and she didn't mean she should. 
 
 A scene occurred about a week afterward, which left an 
 impression on Eoline's mind, not to be effaced. They were 
 all assembled in the music-room to practice some of the 
 anthems for the Examination. The room was very large 
 and lighted with innumerable windows, which were all left 
 open, as the night was excessively close and sultry. The 
 air had that pulseless stillness, which shows that the elec 
 tricity had left the earth, to roll itself in the bosom of the 
 cloud darkening over head. Eoline looked abroad and 
 saw with pleasure a dull lead-colored belt girdling the 
 Heavens, and deadening the deep, clear blue of the horizon. 
 Across this broadening belt, pale, lambent rays of lightning 
 were darting, in radiant mockery of its gloom. 
 
 " We shall have a thunder-shower, I perceive," said she, 
 following, with delighted eyes, the dazzling play of the 
 lightning. "How welcome it will be, after this long 
 drought ! Will it not 1" added she, looking up to St. Leon, 
 who was standing by her side. 
 
 " I cannot say that I ever welcome a thunder storm," 
 replied St. Leon, with a slight shudder. " From my earliest 
 recollection, I have had a constitutional dread of electricity. 
 It deprives me of strength and elasticity. It makes me 
 nerveless and weak." 
 
 " Cannot the mind make the nerves the vassals of its 
 will 1 ." asked Eoline, the sight of his pallid cheek deep 
 ening the hue of her own, " at least in the day of health 
 and vigor V 
 
 "I have tried to school myself in vain," said St. Leon.
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 157 
 
 " We cannot fashion ourselves anew nor string with iron 
 chords the spirit wired with silver or with gold. I regret 
 this weakness, if such it may be called, but I cannot 
 conquer it. 
 
 " When you sheltered Louisa and myself from that 
 terrible shower," said she, " I thought you quite strong and 
 heroic." 
 
 "Ah, that was nothing but rain," he replied. "I should 
 not shrink from all the waters of the deluge, if they 
 came silently down." 
 
 " I remember well," replied Eoline, with a sigh, " when 
 I was a little child, my terror of electric power was so 
 great, that I dreaded the approach of summer all its bloom 
 and beauty and fragrance could not reconcile me to the 
 thunder's awful roll, the lightning's blasting flash. But 
 when I became old enough to listen to reason, my fears 
 forsook me ; and they have never returned. I even take 
 a sublime pleasure in gazing on the magnificent fire-works 
 of Heaven ! Look ! how beautiful how grand !" 
 
 " I wish I could think and feel as you do," cried St. 
 Leon, "not only on this subject, but on all. In everything 
 you rise superior not only to me, but to the whole world. 
 5Tou were born for dominion I, for homage." 
 
 " No, St. Leon," she cried, with another unaccountable, 
 yet irrepressible sigh, "I was not born for dominion, nor 
 will I assume it j I was born to look up up high as the 
 eagle's eyrie. It is this upward-reaching spirit that makes 
 me joy in the warring clouds or the rushing winds. They 
 are high and powerful, and I love them." 
 
 " Have you no dread of danger 1 Do you not think of 
 death 1" asked St. Leon. 
 
 " We can die but once," replied Eoline, " and I would 
 far rather be struck suddenly by the bolt of Heaven, and 
 die a pangless death, than waste away in prostrated ago 
 nies, or even languish long on the bed of disease. No, 1
 
 158 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 trunk less of dissolution in a moment like this, than in the 
 loneliness and darkness of the midnight hour." 
 
 The entrance of Miss Manly and the pupils interrupted 
 the conversation. Eoline took her seat at the piano, Miss 
 Manly hers on the right, while St. Leon stood on the left. 
 The young choristers were arranged in a semicircle on 
 either side, exactly as they were to be on the public plat 
 form. As they came silently in, the roar of the distant thun 
 der was heard, as a prelude to their opening anthem. To 
 Eoline it was a grand rolling bass, and she seemed inspired 
 by the sound. Never had she sung with more power and 
 sweetness. In one of the anthems, the words seemed sin 
 gularly appropriate to the scene. They were taken from 
 one of those awfully sublime Psalms which make the 
 spirit weak from their overpowering grandeur of expres 
 sion. It was Eoline's part to sing alone the following 
 lines 
 
 " He bowed the Heavens also, and came down ; and 
 darkness was under His feet. 
 
 " And He rode upon a cherub and did fly j yea, He did 
 fly upon the wings of the wind." 
 
 While Eoline's voice soared like the cherub, who is 
 represented as bearing Jehovah on its wings, the thunder 
 came rolling and crashing along, as if the chariot wheels 
 of Deity were overhead, and the sky was one blaze of 
 lightning. St. Leon covered his eyes with his hand. He 
 had a solo which should have followed Eoline's, but he 
 was voiceless. Eoline raised her eyes, not hearing the 
 expected notes, and saw his face and lips of ashy paleness. 
 He looked like a fainting man. , 
 
 " Mr. St. Leon is ill," said she, lifting her hands from 
 the keys; "Miss Manly, will you send for a glass of 
 water?" 
 
 Miss Manly, who knew not the cause of his agitation, 
 and supposed him to be attacked by sudden illness, was
 
 EOLINEj OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. i59 
 
 excessively alarmed. She handed him the water with her 
 own hands, and insisted upon his sitting down and not 
 attempting to sing any more. We have noticed before her 
 kindness to all in sickness, and her interest for St. Leon 
 This combination made her attentions conspicuously assi 
 duous. She dispatched one for cologne, another for cam 
 phor, and poured herself some of the fragrant lymph on 
 the waving locks of St. Leon. 
 
 " I am ashamed, for causing this interruption," said he 
 looking gratefully at Miss Manly, "and giving you so 
 much trouble. It is a great misfortune of mine." 
 
 "Are you subject to these attacks!" inquired Miss 
 Manly, anxiously. 
 
 "Always in a thunder-storm or a tempest. It is a con- 
 stitutional weakness, and, I believe, hereditary." 
 
 Eoline glanced at Miss Manly to set- the impression this 
 confession had made upon her. She expected to see the 
 pity of this strong and high-minded woman blended with 
 a shade of contempt. But she was mistaken. Her coun 
 tenance expressed all the tenderness and compassion of 
 which it was capable. Eoline felt for St. Leon, herself 
 she pitied him, for his agitation seemed perfectly uncon 
 trollable. But she felt humiliated by it, because she had 
 lately associated St. Leon with her most secret thoughts. 
 She could not bear that he should expose this unmanly 
 trepidation to young girls, who have such a keen sense of 
 the weak and effeminate. She heard Fanny whisper to 
 Selma, " He is afraid," and the same sentence was spelled 
 on the fingers of the whole choir. 
 
 As the storm continued, and the rising wind added itg 
 gusts to the reverberating thunder, the rehearsal was stop 
 ped. It could not go on without St. Leon, and he was 
 incapable of proceeding. 
 
 "Will it disturb you if I sing!" said Eoline, looking 
 towards St. Leon.
 
 1 60 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " Oh, no your voice always seems the voice of an 
 angel. It will be doubly sweet at a moment like this." 
 
 Miss Manly had left the hall, to give orders that a room 
 might be prepared for St. Leon. She would not think of 
 his going abroad on such a night. 
 
 " I fear you think me unmanly," said he, in a low voice 
 to Eoline ; " but believe me, the mind has nothing to do 
 with it. It is altogether physical. Eoline, look down 
 upon me, if you will, but still look upon me. I am strong 
 in one thing in my love for you." 
 
 Eoline was glad that Miss Manly's approach prevented 
 her reply. She condemned herself for the feelings that 
 oppressed her, but she could not help them, any more than 
 St. Leon his physical weakness. When she first met St. 
 Leon, he had appeared in the light of a protector, man's 
 natural and Heaven-appointed office. It is true, he had 
 only sheltered her from the rain, but she remembered him 
 as a help in the hour of need. She imagined herself ex 
 posed to the warring elements of such a night as this, with 
 no arm but his to lean upon, no spirit but his to sustain, 
 and she sighed at the prospect. It would be hers to up 
 hold, hers to strengthen. Woman feels that it is her 
 office to watch in sickness and soothe in sorrow to go 
 down with the sufferer, even into the valley of darkness, 
 without fearing its shadows; but not to be foremost in the 
 battles of life, nor to take the helm when the night is 
 dark, and the billows are roaring, with the master pale and 
 inert at her side. 
 
 The rain continued, but the thunder was muttering at a 
 distance. Miss Manly insisted that St. Leon should re 
 main. He would take cold, get s ; ck, his voice would be 
 hoarse at the concert, and then what would they dol St. 
 Leon consented, and again Eoline heard one of the saucy 
 girls whisper very softly to another, that <Uhe Colonel 
 ought to make Miss St. Leon some herb tea "
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 161 
 
 "I am very wicked," said she, to Louisa, when they 
 were alone, for they could be alone now, sometimes, "but 
 I have felt far more vexation than compassion to-night. 
 Do you think a man ought to know the sensation of fear, 
 or, knowing ought to yield to it 1" 
 
 "St. Leon's nerves were strangely affected," said Louisa, 
 " but, you remember, some very great men have had con 
 stitutional weaknesses. Peter the Great, as Miss Manly 
 would say, and Caesar, too, fainted at the sight of water, 
 so great was their terror." 
 
 " Ah, but they conquered it !" exclaimed Eoline, "and 
 became heroes. Their greatest weakness became their 
 crowning glory." 
 
 "Perhaps St. Leon will conquer his," said Louisa, "and 
 become a hero, too." 
 
 "No," replied Eoline, sadly and thoughtfully; "I think 
 he had as powerful a motive to-night as could act upon 
 him, but it was in vain. I said I am wicked, because I 
 feel as if I could really admire a man more, who is capa 
 ble of some great crime nobly repented of, if he have cor 
 responding greatness of character, than one amiably weak 
 and constitutionally timid." 
 
 " You should pardon many defects in St. Leon, Eoline, 
 for the exceeding love he bears you. Were I loved, and 
 so loved, it seems to me the passion would throw a radi 
 ance round the being who thus worshiped. We are all 
 made to differ. ' There is one glory of the sun, and an 
 other glory of the moon, and one star differs from another 
 star in glory.' " 
 
 " The glory of the sun for me !" exclaimed Eoline, ar- 
 lently, "even its meridian glory. There is a joy in being 
 *oved and worshiped ; but, oh, Louisa, how much deeper, 
 how much holier must be the joy iofeel love and worship 
 for another !" 
 
 St. Leon was really ill and feverish the next day, ana 
 80
 
 162 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 ft. 
 unable to leave his room. Miss Manly did not visit him 
 
 herself she thought it the height of impropriety to do so, 
 but, through Uncle Ben, who was a celebrated nurse, she 
 lavished upon him more than needed care. The servants 
 were going in and out with little waiters, mysteriously 
 covered with white napkins, containing delicacies for the 
 invalid. A large stuffed rocking chair was rolled in for 
 his accommodation^ and he had as many bouquets sent 
 him as if he were Prima Donna. The children, believing 
 they had wronged him in supposing him afraid, when he 
 was in reality ill, with the reaction peculiar to their age, 
 thought they could not do enough to express their sympa 
 thy and regret. 
 
 St. Leon was a Creole, the son of a Creole planter, of 
 Louisiana. It is believed that the race from which he 
 sprang is more distinguished for beauty of person, grace 
 of manner, quickness and ardor of feeling, and gentleness 
 of disposition, than for the stern and hardy virtues. It 
 was certainly so with St. Leon. It is said, too, that an 
 exquisite taste for music in men, is accompanied with a 
 fineness of nerve and sensitiveness of temperament, incom 
 patible with a strong will and an unswerving purpose. 
 Whether this be true in general or not, it was true of St. 
 Leon. Even if nature had planted in his mind the germs 
 of a firmer character, the indolence and luxury of his life 
 had never allowed their expansion. 
 
 Great qualities are not the hot-bed growth of luxury. 
 They are plants of Heaven's own nurture, and the blasts 
 that shiver the crystal walls of the green-house, destroying 
 the exotics it shelters, only give them a deeper root and 
 stronger tone. 
 
 His uncommon delicacy of constitution, which was visi 
 ble in his pale, transparent complexion, rendered it ne 
 cessary for him to leave the luxuriant and sickly regions, 
 where his father dwelt, during the sultry months of the
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 163 
 
 year. He spent most of his summers in travelling, and 
 being attracted by the beautiful scenery around Monte- 
 bello, stopped to linger a few days near its green fields, 
 and beside its still waters. In one of his romantic ram 
 bles, he beheld the beautiful Eolin, crowned with the re 
 galia of Spring, a Flora in bloom, a Nightingale in song 
 the very incarnation of Poetry, Music and Love. Bless 
 ings on the rain that gave him an opportunity of approach 
 ing her ; and blessings on Miss Manly, who opened a door 
 for his admission to the seminary which would bring him 
 in close juxta-position with the object of his intense ad 
 miration. As day after day unfolded her noble, intellec 
 tual qualities qualities he never dreamed of finding in so 
 young and fair a girl, his admiration deepened into wor 
 ship. She seemed to shine above him, a radiant and con 
 stantly ascending star, and no Chaldean shepherd ever 
 gazed with more idolatry on the 
 
 " Brightest and best of the sons of the morning," 
 
 than the young Creole on the banished daughter of Glen- 
 more. He felt her superiority even painfully, and there 
 were moments when he was tempted to yield to despair j 
 but she had allowed him to hope, she had not rejected him, 
 she had asked for time to analyse her own feelings, and 
 study his character. He had no rival, and such love as 
 his must meet a return. 
 
 The night of the thunder-shower, when her sky-lark 
 notes rose clear and rejoicing above the thunder's roar 
 while he, a poor, trembling, stricken dove, was flutterin 
 songless, below ; he felt that there was an immeasurable 
 distance between their spirits a distance the rainbow of 
 hope could scarcely span. It was this conviction acting 
 on his excited nerves, that caused the illness which suc 
 ceeded. For days he lingered in his room, and Miss 
 Manly began to tremble for his health, as well as for her
 
 1^.4 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 rehearsals and concerts. At length he came forth, looking 
 more pale and interesting than ever, but declaring himself 
 perfectly well. The languishing softness of his eyes was 
 in keeping with his invalid character a character which 
 seemed to invest him with new graces. Eoline, conscious 
 she had condemned him too harshly for a weakness he 
 could not conquer, greeted him so kindly that all his wilted 
 hopes revived. 
 
 She was looking anxiously into the future. In her altered 
 feelings for Miss Manly, she preferred remaining with her, 
 to seeking a new, perhaps a less desirable home. But there 
 was a long vacation approaching. All the pupils were 
 talking of home, of the expected embraces of parents, the 
 joyous welcome of friends. Miss Manly spoke of visiting 
 her Northern relatives during the long holidays ; Louisa, 
 of accompanying her. Could she remain alone in that 
 baronial castle, with its long galleries, winding stairs, and 
 empty dormitories 1 It is true, she had invitations, eagerly 
 reiterated, from all the pupils, Jerusha included, to pass the 
 holidays with them, but she knew not their parents, and 
 the home of the stranger offered no elysium to her yearning 
 heart. She thought of her inflexible father, of Horace 
 Cleveland, of her darling Willie, and wept. 
 
 Poor Eoline !
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Horace Cleveland returned from Cuba's sea-bound shore, 
 with the remains of his mother, whose last prayer was that 
 she might be buried in her native soil. She had sought 
 health in a foreign clime, and found death among its spicy 
 breezes and tropic flowers. As her son was borne home 
 ward over the tossing billows, with his silent and encoffined 
 companion, he communed in secret with his life's first, 
 great sorrow. Ever reserved and undemonstrative, no 
 one dreamed of the intensity of affection he bore his mo 
 ther, till he hung ovw her dying bed. He knew it not 
 himself, for he had never sounded the depths of his own 
 heart. In the pure intellectuality of his existence, he had 
 suffered the fountains of feeling to lie far, far below the 
 surface, imparting neither freshness, beauty, or bloom to 
 the eye ; but swollen by the waters of sorrow, the springs 
 gushed and welled up, forming an overflowing Nile, on 
 which the Lotus might float, and the Lily gleam. And 
 even now, as he sat, with folded arms, and calm, thought 
 ful brow, by the side of the unburied dead, a stranger 
 might have thought him cold and insensible. It is said 
 there are sermons in running brooks, and in the way-side 
 flower, but there is an eloquence in death, all voiceless a? 
 it is, that preaches as brook and flower never yet have 
 preached. Strange as it may seem, life, in its fullest, 
 broadest sense, was in this instance born of death. Wher 
 the strongest earthly tie he had yet known was broken, he 
 felt the immortality of the affections, since they survived 
 the ruins of mind. Reason wandered, judgment grew weak, 
 imagination dim ; but love survived the wreck. She clun^ 
 
 (165)
 
 166 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 to him, as the sheet-anchor of her heart, while the waves 
 and billows of death washed over her, and he thus learned 
 the unconquerable nature of human love. Strange, too, 
 behind the image of his dead mother, he always beheld 
 the living Eoline. She came upon his memory, a Phoenix, 
 rising from the ashes of death, and brightening its gloom. 
 He remembered his visit to Magnolia Vale, and the alliance 
 of friendship which had succeeded the cold reserve existing 
 between them. When he caught the first glimpse of his 
 father's lordly villa, and immediately turned to the twin- 
 built mansion of Mr. Glenmore, his heart throbbed at the 
 hope of soon meeting there the lately banished Eoline. 
 
 Mr. Glenmore came to sympathize with his widowed 
 friend. Horace asked after his daughter as if confident 
 that she was restored to his protection. 
 
 " Name her not," exclaimed the father, with a darken 
 ing brow. " She is nothing to me now and never can be. 
 The door of reconciliation is forever closed, forever" 
 
 He was too proud to tell Horace of his slighted overtures, 
 preferring that he should think him the most vindictive 
 and implacable of human beings, rather than that he shpuld 
 know that his offers of reconciliation had been treated 
 with disdain. 
 
 Horace, who had been reading law at the University 
 of Gottingen, during his residence in Europe, was now 
 anxious to enter on the active duties. of his profession. He 
 longed to throw himself into the battle of life, and test the 
 keenness an-? strength of the weapons he had been whetting 
 and tempering for the gladiatorial strife of mind. Before 
 seeking the arena he had selected, he resolved to visit 
 Eoline, since he was permitted to do so as a friend, and see 
 if the eagle wings of her spirit had not yet drooped in their 
 unaccustomed flight. 
 
 "Perhaps when she learns that I am going to leave my 
 home," thought he, " she may be induced to return, and
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 167 
 
 the father cannot banish her a second time. Implacable 
 as he seems to be, he still loves her, and I see well that 
 this unnatural separation has added more than one furrow 
 to his brow." 
 
 " Father is gone away," said little "Willie, when Horac 
 called the day before his departure *o bid him farewell,' 
 " but Pm at home." 
 
 Willie had always been fond of Horace. Indeed he 
 was one of those slender, fibrous plants, whose Selicate, 
 spreading roots cling to the surrounding soil with closeness 
 and tenacity. Now he had some misgivings about Horace, 
 for, though he did not understand the family compact 
 which had bound him to Eoline, he had heard his father 
 talk, and Mrs. Howe and Gatty talk, and he knew a great 
 deal more than they imagined the child thought of. From 
 all he had gathered he had come to the conviction that 
 if Horace had loved Eoline as he ought, as everybody 
 ought to do, she would never have left him, sisterlesg, 
 to mourn. 
 
 " What for did you let sister Ela go away 1" he asked, 
 wheft^Iorace took him in his lap, and stroked back his 
 beautiful auburn hair. 
 
 "I could not keep her from going," replied Horace, 
 with embarrassment. "I was not even here when she 
 went." 
 
 "Yes, but you could, though. I heard father say so. 
 He said you didn't love her, and that was the reason she 
 wouldn't stay. How could you help loving Ela 1 What's 
 the reason you don't love herl" 
 
 Willie fixed his eyes steadily on the face of Horace, 
 that reddened under his gaze. He knew not how to re 
 ply to the straight-forward and earnest child, but he said, 
 evasively, 
 
 " It is Ela that does not love me. That alters the case 
 very much."
 
 168 EOLINE J OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "But you don't answer my question," persisted thfi 
 ooy. " I'll ask it another way. You don't hate Ela, do 
 youl" 
 
 " No, indeed. Heaven forbid. Surely you never heard 
 anybody say that I did 1" 
 
 " Yes but I have, though. I don't know v^hether it 
 was father, or Mrs. Howe, or Gatty. Somebody did. 
 But I know it isn't true. I couldn't love you if it was." 
 
 " I am going to see Eoline to-morrow, Willie," said Ho 
 race, anxious to change the current of Willie's thoughts. 
 " What shall I tell her from you 1" 
 
 " Tell her to come back with you. Tell her to come 
 back, cried the child, enthusiastically. "Tell her it isn't 
 home without her. Nobody's the same they were before 
 she went away. This is the way father looks all the 
 time." Willie contracted his smooth brow and tried to 
 make a miniature horse-shoe. " The flowers don't look 
 half so sweet, for nobody takes care of them as she did. 
 My hair don't curl as pretty, because she isn't her to twist 
 it round her fingers. And I'm not half as good as I was," 
 said little Willie, sorrowfully, and lowering his tone, " for 
 nobody listens to know if God hears my prayers or not. 
 I say them every night, but Mrs. Howe goes to sleep some 
 times. Sister Ela carried up my prayers to Heaven her 
 self, for she looked up there to see them go, and held my 
 hands in hers all the time." 
 
 Surely never were a sister's praises so innocently, yet so 
 eloquently breathed. Horace felt their glow in his heart, 
 and self-reproach and sorrow were there, too, for had he 
 not, by a coldness and indifference he might forever vainly 
 rue, deprived this beautiful and loving boy of the sister he 
 worshiped I 
 
 "I wil 1 tell her all you say, and do all I can to pnr 
 suade her to return for your sake," cried Horace, rising to 
 depart.
 
 EOLINEj OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 169 
 
 "Will you tell her you love herl" said Willie, laying 
 his left cheek on the hand of Horace, and looking beseech-* 
 ingly in his eyes. 
 
 " She would be angry if I did," replied he, turning away 
 from the little inquisitor. 
 
 " No she would'nt but don't go yet," said Willie, fol 
 lowing him. " Come into the garden and get some flow 
 ers for Ela. She loves them so dearly. Then they are 
 her own flowers and tell her I sent them. She will think 
 them sweet, I know." 
 
 He pulled Horace along with him into the garden, ana 
 began eagerly gathering the fairest and best. Horace be 
 came interested in the task. His mother loved flowers, 
 and he had frequently brought the rich blossoms of the 
 tropic bowers, and laid them on her sick couch. But it 
 was the first time he had ever culled one for Eoline, 
 though the betrothed of his childhood, and there was a 
 charm in the office which he could not explain. They 
 were to be offered in Willie's name, and she should not be 
 made to prize them less by knowing that his hands had 
 assisted to pluck them. Willie would have put the whole 
 garden, and the green-house, too, into a bouquet, if Ho 
 race could have carried it, and he mourned when com 
 pelled to stop, after having arrived at the limits of human 
 compressibility. 
 
 " Tell her I kissed them," cried the boy, pressing them 
 again and again to his rosy lips, while his sweet eyes filled 
 with tears " and she must kiss them, too." 
 
 Thus embalmed, the offering of fraternal love was borne 
 away by Horace, and its fragrance and bloom kept alive 
 by the most devoted attention. As he travelled on horse 
 back, it required some skill to dispose of the bouquet. He 
 could not put it in his valise for it would wither he did 
 not like to carry it in his hands lest vt should make him 
 look too foppish, but it was a sacred offering, and he would
 
 170 EOLINE: OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 not leave it behind; so winding a wet handkerchief round 
 Jthe stems, he endured the shame for the sake of the plea 
 sure he hoped to impart, and every time he stopped ht 
 took care to saturate the linen afresh, and awake the flow 
 ers to new life. So carefully did he watch them, so ten 
 derly did he nurse, that he grew to love them, for the care 
 he bestowed, and instead of one Picciola, he had a cluster 
 to gladden his solitary journey. They were redolent with 
 memories of Eoline, that noble, beautiful Eoline, whom 
 his more than Indian stoicism had made an alien from her 
 home, and on whom he had imposed a lot of toil, perhaps 
 misery. 
 
 It was night when he arrived at Montebello. By going 
 through the woods, he had condensed a two days' carriage 
 journey into one. As he entered the hotel he met crowds 
 of people going out, as if in a great hurry, and he could 
 hear them say one to another 
 
 " I fear we shall be too late for seats." 
 
 While at supper, the landlord, an officiously polite gen 
 tleman, remarked 
 
 " I suppose you are going to attend the concert to 
 night." 
 
 " Where 1" 
 
 " At the Magnolia Vale Seminary. There will be a great 
 crowd, and I fear you will find it difficult to get a good 
 place that is, if you intend to go. If you are a stranger 
 in this part of the country, I would advise you by all means 
 to attend, for they say there never was such music heard 
 befoie, as you will have a chance of listening to there." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Horace, shrinking at the thought of the 
 refined and high-bred daughter of Glenmore, being com 
 pelled to exhibit herself before a promiscuous and crowded 
 assembly. " What celebrated musicians are there V 
 
 " Why, there's the young music teacher, a Miss Glen- 
 noore, whose father they say is as rich as a Croesus, and who
 
 EOLINE J OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 171 
 
 turned her out of doors because she wouldn't marry a young 
 man she didn't like. That's the girl for me. 1 would 
 walk forty miles to see such a one, if she was as ugly as 
 you please but this young lady is the prettiest creature I 
 ever saw in my life, and sings like a dozen mocking-birds 
 put together. All the young men who attended the Ex 
 amination have been raving about her, and say they pity the 
 stupid fellow she ran away from." 
 
 Horace hastily rose from the table. The words of the 
 loquacious landlord were daggers to him. He felt as if 
 he were known, and that the remarks were uttered by 
 design. 
 
 "Then there's the handsome young gentleman that 
 teaches singing, too," continued the host ; " he sings like 
 a nightingale as well as she. If report speaks true, the 
 two nightingales will sing in one cage before long." 
 
 " Of what gentleman are you speaking 1" asked Horace, 
 a strange pang shooting through his heart. 
 
 " His name is St. Leon," replied the landlord. " It is no 
 doubt he makes believe to be a teacher there, for reasons 
 best known to. himself, but suspected by all. He boards 
 with us, and he cares no more how much money he spends, 
 than if it were so much sand. He told me, when he first 
 came, that he was going to pass the summer in travelling 
 but it seems he could not get a step beyond this place. 
 But, sir, I beg your pardon I think I have seen your face 
 before. Did you not stop here in the winter, and inquire 
 the way to the Seminary ! I think you passed the night 
 here." 
 
 Horace answered by a distant bow. 
 
 " An acquaintance of Miss Manly's, or perhaps of Miss 
 Glenmore, herself 1" 
 
 With another cold, silent bow, Horace sought the door. 
 
 " The Colonel is a wonderful woman," continued tho 
 gentleman, facetiously, " we all very proud of her school.
 
 172 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 There is not such another this side of the Alleghany. She 
 made a speech this evening, at the close of her Examina 
 tion, that, they say, beat all the stump speeches ever heard 
 in the land of pine woods. If she were a candidate for 
 Congress, I've no doubt she would be elected by an over 
 whelming majority. Oh ! she's a great woman our Colo 
 nel is." 
 
 Horace at last escaped to his room, where he could 
 shake off the dust of the traveller, and make himself a 
 fitting guest for Miss Manly's crowded halls. Never had 
 he felt in such a state of nervous agitation. One moment 
 he resolved to return at once, without exposing himself 
 to the hazard'of being known as the young man, the "stupid 
 fellow," from whom the heiress of Glenmore had fled j the 
 next, he was urged by an irresistible desire to see Eoline, 
 blushing in maiden beauty, before the gaze of hundreds, 
 by the side of the handsome and melodious St. Leon. He 
 wanted to behold this disguised hero, this spendthrift lover, 
 this rare bird of song, whose magic notes were said to have 
 captivated the heart that perhaps might have been his, had 
 he not chilled it with the coldness of polar ice. 
 
 He was tempted to throw away the flowers, fearing they 
 would draw attention to himself but the remembrance 
 of Willie's pleading eyes and tearful messages glued them 
 to his hand. He could not cast them aside. When he 
 approached the Seminary and saw the crowd around the 
 building, he gathered confidence in the hope of passing 
 unnoticed. It looked like an illuminated castle, with its 
 myriad windows brilliantly lighted, and its lofty towers 
 leaning against the starry sky. Just as he reached the door 
 a sudden flood of melody rolling over the throng, drowned 
 the buzz of mingling voices, and caused such a rush and 
 pressure inwards, that Horace found himself borne along, 
 with scarcely any effort of his own. Gaining a window 
 not far from the platform, he jumped on to its sill, and
 
 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 173 
 
 drawing back as far as possible in the embrasure, gazed 
 upon a scene which seemed to him more like a dream of 
 the imagination than a living actuality. A very elevated 
 platform ran along the whole breadth of the hall, and was 
 separated from it by a row of classic pillars, which were 
 all decorated for the occasion with garlands of evergreen 
 and flowers. Two flights of steps, covered with green 
 cloth, one on each side, led up to this elevation, and a 
 chandelier suspended above, mingled its lustre with the 
 lamps burning beneath. 
 
 Miss Manly sat in the centre on a chair raised so as to 
 resemble a throne or dais, and looked down in her majesty 
 on the throng below. No Queen, surrouuied by her 
 court, ever bore a loftier presence or carried herself more 
 royally, than the Principal of the Magnolia Vale Semi 
 nary. Certainly no Queen ever felt more proud of her 
 subjects, or reigned with a more absolute dominion over 
 them. She was dressed for the evening with unusual 
 splendor, and held her ivory fan as if it were a sceptre. 
 On each side of her the pupils were arranged in semicir 
 cular order, standing, the taller nearer to her, and gradu 
 ally diminishing in height as they diverged from the great 
 central luminary. Their uniform was white muslin, re 
 lieved by sashes of cerulean hue, and almost all were de 
 corated with some favorite flower. There they stood, 
 these young girls, in their white, flowing robes and azure 
 ribbons, with their sweet flowers, all radiant in juvenility 
 and innocence, so bright, so joyous, that it made one's 
 heart ache to look at them and think these morning bloa 
 soms of life should ever be exposed to the mildew and the 
 storm, or worse than all, to the cold, bitter frost. In the 
 centre, just in front of Miss Manly, whose lofty position 
 prevented her from being concealed, appeared Eoline, 
 seated at the piano, in the same celestial livery of white 
 and blue. The music leaves unfolded before her, partially
 
 174 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 concealed her from the gaze of the audience, but this 
 slight screen did not intercept the view of Horace, who 
 oeheld her with sensations such as woman had never be 
 fore inspired in his breast. Never had she seemed so daz- 
 zlingly fair, so softly, yet resplendently lovely. He looked 
 as Adam looked when he beheld the new-made bride of 
 Eden, beaming on his kindling vision. He was as one 
 waking out of a deep sleep, by a flasl of conviction, in 
 tense as the lightning, and almost as scorching. When 
 wtrong passions have lain dormant for a long time under a 
 superincumbent weight of intellect, their awakening is the 
 bound of the giant, strong, exultant and fearful. Horace 
 trembled and glowed as the new life came .rushing and 
 flowing in, into every vein giving him the sense of a new 
 creation. It flashed from his eyes it burned upon his 
 cheek he felt it in every fibre of his being. But the mo 
 ment that revealed Eoline to him, invested with this new 
 born glory, this moment, the warmest, the brightest, soon 
 proved the darkest of his life. For on the right hand 
 stood the minstrel lover, with his pale alabaster face, bril 
 liant eyes, and romantic-waving hair, adorned with every 
 grace that can captivate the eye of woman. And all the 
 time he was gazing, music was gushing forth and filling 
 the hall and sweeping out into the starry night. They 
 were singing an anthem of praise. Hosanna was the bur 
 den of the strain "Hosanna," ascended clear and high, 
 as the highest warblings of the flute, from the lips of Eo 
 line "Hosanna," repeated the youthful band, in their 
 weet, bird-like contralto "Hosanna," breathed St. Leon, 
 in his deep melodious tenor "Hosanna, Hosanna," re 
 sounded the whole choir, in one strong burst of jubilant 
 harmony, while the keys quivered and sparkled under 
 Eoline's jewelled fingers. Horace listened with an inte 
 rest, an intensity that amounted to agony. As one by 
 one, and then all in one, the Hosannas swept by him, and
 
 
 EOLINEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 175 
 
 he beheld Eoline the centre of that region of light and 
 harmony, she seemed lost to him forever lost by his own 
 madness. The words of little Willie rang in his ears 
 "How could you help loving Elal" " What did you let 
 her go away for 1" " Because I was a fool, dolt, maniac," 
 thought he, "and I deserve to be punished, as I am." 
 
 There was a breathless silence after the anthem closed, 
 then a sudden and spontaneous burst of applause. Once, 
 twice, thrice the building shook with itt- thunders. During 
 the lull that succeeded, Miss Manly arose. Her tall figure 
 at once arrested every eye. 
 
 "Hush, hush, the Colonel is going to speak!" ran in a 
 whisper across the benches. 
 
 And truly the Colonel was going to make a speech, and 
 a very sensible one, too. 
 
 "We thank the audience," she said, bending graciously 
 forward, and waving her ivory fan. " We thank our friends, 
 for their manifestations of approbation. We receive them 
 in the spirit of kindness in which we are certain they 
 burst forth. But as the performers are young ladies whose 
 modesty and delicacy we feel it our duty to guard, as we 
 would a tender flower, and as they must naturally shrink 
 from anything like notoriety and acclamation, we would 
 most respectfully request, that silence, expressive silence, 
 should hereafter speak their praise." 
 
 There was a murmur, when Miss Manly resumed her 
 seat after a dignified bow, and some boys put their hands 
 together ready to clap, but the public respected Miss Manly, 
 and feared her displeasure, and as her pupils had passed a 
 splendid Examination, they were anxious to conform to 
 her wishes, and therefore preserved silence. 
 
 As St. Leon led Eoline from the instrument, and said 
 something to her in a low voice, she looked up with a 
 smile that Horace would have given worlds to call his own. 
 He wanted to send her the flowers that were withering in
 
 376 EOLINE; on, MAGNOLIA' VALE. 
 
 his grasp. They would carry her thoughts back to her 
 home ; they would turn her from the fascinations of the 
 present moment, perhaps awaken one remembrance of him. 
 Before he left the hotel he had fastened a slip of paper to 
 the bouquet, with the simple words " From Willie, to his 
 sister Eoline," inscribed upon it. While he was hesitating 
 by what messenger to send the floral token, little Bessie 
 Bell, the young fairy, with her blue sash fluttering round 
 her, came gliding amid the throng, like a gleam of azure 
 sky breaking through a cloud. 
 
 " For Miss Glenmore," said he, bending down, ant! 
 placing the flowers in her eagerly extended hand. 
 
 Proud of being the bearer of such an offering, to such a 
 shrine, the little white cloud, with its azure sky-gleam, 
 floated back to the platform, and seemed to melt away at 
 Eoline's feet, for it disappeared in the twinkling of an eye. 
 
 Eoline received the flowers with a gratified look, sup 
 posing them sent as a compliment from some lover of music 
 in the audience. She had had many similar favors in the 
 course of the Examination, but there was something in the 
 fragrance of this, that breathed into her inmost heart. 
 
 Horace watched her countenance as she read the inscrip 
 tion. The red lightning of sudden emotion darted across 
 her cheek, then left it of snowy whiteness. She looked 
 eagerly into the crowd, with a wistful inquiring glance, 
 that wandered from face to face, growing less and less 
 hopeful as it wandered, till it fell on. the spot where 
 Horace stood, in the deep embrazure of the window. 
 Shadows were resting there, but his eyes beaming with 
 newly enkindled fires, met and arrested that vague and 
 doubtful glance. Had she recognized him 1 ? He could not 
 tell. But the color came back to her face. No longer the 
 vanishing lightning but the lingering crimson that dyes 
 the sunset cloud. She bent her head over the flowers, 
 and he imagined he saw them sparkling with dew-drops
 
 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE 177 
 
 which were not there a few moments before. Again, she 
 turned towards the window, and this time Horace bowed 
 to her glance. The salutation was immediately acknow 
 ledged, and a bright smile played on her lips. 
 
 The harp was now drawn to the front of the platform 
 by Uncle Ben, who had seemed during the whole evening 
 most superfluously busy, taking up chairs, and putting them 
 down in the same place, going in and out with a hurried 
 and important look, as if he had not one moment to 
 spare. 9 
 
 St. Leon led Eoline forward, and seated her at the grace 
 ful instrument. Taking the flowers in one hand, and lean 
 ing lightly on the harp with the other, the handsome Creole 
 stood waiting to accompany her with his rich and mellow 
 voice. To the classic mind, he might recall the young 
 Apollo singing to the impassioned music of Erato's nine- 
 stringed lyre. Horace had seen Eoline at the harp many 
 a time before, but he felt as if it were the first time he had 
 ever experienced her minstrel power. As she raised her 
 hands to sweep the glittering wires, her loose gossamer 
 sleeves fell back, revealing an arm of unrivalled beauty, 
 both as to form and hue. He thought of Ossian's fair- 
 haired maids, of the white-armed daughter of Joscar, and 
 he thought, too, of the angels, and the golden harps of 
 Heaven. His imagination was excited, and beautiful 
 images from the old poets, from ancient mythology and 
 the divine bards, crowded upon his memory. He was 
 transformed into a poet himself. He could write a grand 
 epic poem of which life should be the subject, man the 
 hero, and the machinery, the hidden springs and wondrous 
 workmanship of the human heart. 
 
 The concert was winding to a close ; the last anthem 
 
 was announced. The white-robed choir again arranged 
 
 themselves in a semi-lunar form, while Eoline and St. Leon 
 
 look the same position as at the opening of the concert. 
 
 81
 
 178 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 Miss Manly stood up to enjoy this last act of a triumphant 
 drama. Eoline, who missed for a moment the voice of 
 St. Leon, looked up and saw him leaning against the piano, 
 with his hand pressed against his side, and his face wear 
 ing the pallor of death. Giving her one earnest, thrilling 
 glance, his eyes closed, and he fell back, perfectly insen 
 sible. 
 
 It would be difficult to describe the scene of confusion 
 that followed. The forward pressure of the crowd impeded 
 every breath of air, and formed an imp^ietrable barrier 
 round the platform. The frightened children condensed 
 themselves on the other side Miss Manly, no less alarmed, 
 for once exerting herself in vain to call them to order. 
 
 " Stand back !" exclaimed Eoline, in an agony of ter 
 ror, " keep back, if you would not kill him ! He is not 
 dead. Good Heavens! will nobody help himl Oh, 
 Horace !" she cried, for he had wedged the crowd, he 
 knew not how, and sprang upon the platform, "for God's 
 sake get a glass of water !" 
 
 " Here is water ! and here !" cried a dozen voices, 
 while Horace knelt and raised the lifeless St. Leon on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Carry him to the window !" exclaimed a commanding 
 voice, while another strong pair of arms surrounded the 
 young man, " he will die for want of air." 
 
 It was Doctor Hale, the doctor, par excellence, of Monte- 
 bello, whose commands had the authority of Scripture. 
 By the copious application of water, and the current of 
 fresh air admitted to his lungs, St. Leon revived, so as to 
 open his eyes, and give evidence of consciousness and 
 that was all. 
 
 "Yes, madam," said the doctor, in answer to Miss 
 Manly's anxious inquiries, " have a room prepared imme 
 diately, where he can remain perfectly quiet. His pulse 
 taint and flickering. My friends," said the doctor, some-
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 179 
 
 what authoritatively, to those who pressed round the plat- 
 form, " we would thank you to retire as silently as pos 
 sible. Little girls, it is time you were in bed. "We shall 
 have a man's life on our consciences." 
 
 The doctor's words had the effect of magic. The illu 
 minated hall was soon vacated, and the streets and dormi 
 tories filled. St. Leon was borne to his room in the arms 
 of 'the doctor and Horace Cleveland. It was a sad and 
 awful termination of the brilliant evening. Eoline, be 
 fore she quitted the platform, stooped down and gathered 
 up poor Willie's fading flowers, which had fallen from the 
 failing grasp of St. Leon, then mechanically followed the 
 steps of Miss Manly, steps far less firm and majestic than 
 usual. Louisa, who fatigued by the exertions of the day, 
 had early retired from the concert, met them, with her 
 face as white as her dress. Eoline, oppressed by conflict 
 ing emotions, put her arms round her, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 "Oh, Louisa! this is dreadful dreadful! I have been 
 cruel and unjust !" she cried, scarcely knowing what she 
 uttered. 
 
 The thought of her harsh judgment of St. Leon, the 
 nig' it of the thunder-shower, filled her with remorseful 
 pangs, for what a fatal proof he had just given of the fra 
 gility of his constitution ! The sudden appearance of 
 Horace, bearing a token from her own deserted home, had 
 likewise produced a powerful agitation. The excitement 
 of the preceding scene had made her nerves peculiarly sen 
 sitive. One could hardly have recognized the St. Cecili 
 of the evening, in the pale, trembling girl who sat cling 
 ing to Louisa, and starting wildly at every sound. Miss 
 Manly could not sit still. She walked slowly up and 
 down the long passage, with footsteps that left no sound. 
 It was the first time hers had ever fallen like down. Every 
 once in a while Uncle Ben would come stealing on tiptoe,
 
 180 EOLINE ; OE, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 and whisper that he was a little better, that the doctor 
 thought there was some hope ; then putting his finger on 
 his lip, and shaking his head mysteriously, would tiptoe 
 back. It seemed to the two anxious, waiting, weary girls, 
 that the night was all waning away, so long had they sat 
 listening to the muffled sound of carefully closing doors, 
 and whispering voices, whose words they could not 
 gather. 
 
 At length Horace Cleveland came within the door. 
 Eoline rose to meet him, without speaking. It was no 
 time for mere formal expressions, and she had no voice to 
 utter them. 
 
 u Mr. St. Leon," said Horace, " wishes to see you for a 
 few moments. Doctor Hale thinks him in very great, 
 though perhaps not immediate danger, but such is his own 
 impression. As everything depends upon the quietude of 
 his nerves, the doctor thinks your presence might have a 
 tranquilizing influence j that is, if you can command your 
 own feelings. Are you equal to the scene, Eoline ?." 
 
 "Alas! I know not," she answered; "I wish he had 
 not asked it." 
 
 Miss Manly, who had followed Horace, and heard the 
 request, here spoke, with extreme agitation. 
 
 " I think you had better decline going, Miss Glenmore. 
 It can do no possible good, and will excite his nerves, in 
 stead of soothing them. Besides, I do not think it consist 
 ent with propriety, and, as Miss Glenmore's friend and 
 adviser, I certainly must oppose it." 
 
 " If you will accompany her, Miss Manly," said Ho 
 race. 
 
 " Yes, come with me, dear Miss Manly," interrupted 
 Eoline, "your presence will sanction mine. Oh, it would 
 be cruel, to refuse a sick, perchance a dying man." 
 
 "He asked not for me. he desires not me!" exclaimed 
 Miss Manly, her under lip quivering with repressed emo-
 
 EOLINE; OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 181 
 
 tion. " I should be looked upon as an intruder ! No I 
 cannot go!" 
 
 " Louisa, dear Louisa, you will go with me 1 You can 
 console and comfort, far, far more than I." 
 
 " Let me accompany you, Eoline," said Horace, taking 
 er hand, and drawing it round his arm as he spoke. " Let 
 me stand in a brother's place to you in this, and all future 
 trials. Doctor Hale is with him I think no other friend 
 is necessary. Come, and show the same fortitude you have 
 done on other occasions. There is, there can be no impro 
 priety in an errand like this. If so, let the angels of mercy 
 be condemned." 
 
 Thus sustained, Eoline went with Horace Cleveland to 
 what she supposed was the dying bed of St. Leon. She 
 felt, as she clung to his arm, that it was the arm of a friend 
 and protector, that it had strength to support, and kindness, 
 too. Her spirit grew strong as she leaned upon it. Yet 
 she trembled when she entered the dimly-lighted room 
 where St. Leon lay j he who so lately stood by her side, 
 music gushing from his lips, and love and passion flashing 
 from his eyes. 
 
 u Be composed," said Doctor Hale, kindly, in a low voice, 
 as Horace retired, " I would gladly have spared you this 
 trial, but 1 could not persuade him to defer the meeting till 
 to-morrow. He thinks it would be too late. Stay but a 
 moment, and promise to return again. He must not be 
 agitated" he added, emphatically. 
 
 Eoline approached the bed, but when she saw him lying 
 o pale, and still and death-like, awe settled deep over her 
 excited feelings, and she involuntarily sank upon her knees 
 by his side. 
 
 " Eoline," said he feebly extending his hand, " I could 
 not die without seeing you once more." 
 
 " You will not die, St. Leon," she murmured, while his 
 dry an 1 feverish hand convulsively clasped hers. " You
 
 182 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 must not think of death. God will give you back to 
 life." 
 
 " For your sake T' asked he faintly. 
 
 " For the sake of all who love you, St. Leon." 
 
 " You promised me," said he, fixing upon her his dark, 
 languid eyes, that contrasted painfully with his wan face, 
 " you promised me, when the hour of parting came, I should 
 know if I were beloved. Eoline, that hour is come. I 
 cannot lie down in the grave in peace, I cannot surrender 
 my soul to the. Great God, who calls it, till you tell me 
 that you love me. I could not live I cannot die without 
 your love." 
 
 " Think not of an erring creature of the dust like me," 
 said Eoline, lifting her weeping eyes to Heaven. "Oh, St. 
 Leon, this is no time for earthly love." 
 
 "Tell me that you love me," cried the impassioned 
 Creole . " I will then give my thoughts to God and Heaven. 
 I shall die happy. You tremble, you hesitate," he added, 
 suddenly starting from his pillow, his eyes emitting a wild 
 gleam, like the fires of insanity. " You cannot, dare not 
 curse me, at this moment, by telling me that you love an 
 other." 
 
 Falling back again upon the pillow, he closed his eyes, 
 and an expression of acute pain contracted his brow. Eoline 
 thought it was the convulsive pang of death, and uttered a 
 faint cry. Doctor Hale approached his patient, and ap 
 plying his fingers to his fluttering and agitated pulse, looked 
 gravely and earnestly at Eoline, whose countenance. ex 
 pressed as deep suffering as the human heart is capable of 
 feeling. Again and again she tried to speak, but the words 
 seemed glued to her bloodless lips. The doctor laid the 
 hand of St. Leon gently on the bed-cover, then bending 
 down, he raised Eoline from her kneeling position, and 
 drew her to the opposite side of the room. 
 
 " Young lady," said he, in a very low and solemn voice,
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 183 
 
 fixing on her a calm, but piercing eye, " I hope, I believe 
 you are above trifling with the feelings of another at this 
 awful hour. I do not think this young man will live j but 
 I believe his life is far more in your hands than mine. If 
 you can soothe his stormy passions, if you can speak peace 
 to his troubled heart, my skill may avail j but I can do 
 nothing in the state of strange agitation he is now in. 
 This is no time for concealment, none for false scruples." 
 There was a stern emphasis in his low tones, that Eoline 
 felt to her heart's core. Never had she known such a fear 
 ful warfare in her bosom. Ten thousand pulses seemed to 
 throb in every vein. To be told that she held perchance 
 in her hands the life of a human being, to know, even if 
 that life were trembling on the verge of death, she was 
 capable of breathing peace to the departing soul, and 
 winging it with joy into eternity yet refuse to redeem 
 that life, even at the sacrifice of her own happiness; to 
 hesitate to utter those words of peace, to turn a deaf ear to 
 the last prayer of expiring humanity ! could she be so cruel, 
 so selfish 1 Would she not be a murderess, and bathe her 
 soul in the life blood of a fellow mortal, by withholding 
 the remedy which might baffle the power of death I But 
 how dreadful to deceive in that solemn and awful hour ! 
 She did not love St. Leon as he yearned to be loved, as 
 she felt capable of loving, as even then she felt she could 
 love another. She could not open her lips and say to the 
 soul, on which the light of an eternal day might be about 
 to dawn, the soul that might carry her words into the pre 
 sence of a God of Truth " I love you." There had been 
 moments, many moments during their intercourse, when, 
 carried away by the attraction of his graces, and the fervor 
 of his attachment, she could have given an impulsive affir 
 mative to such an impassioned appeal, though reflection 
 might follow with a cold negation. And now, so deep 
 was her pity, so strong her sympathy, so awful her sense
 
 184 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 of responsibility fo&the happiness, the life of another, she 
 was wrought up to that high pitch of enthusiasm, which 
 made her all but willing to immolate herself, rather than 
 destroy him who hung trembling on her decree. But there 
 was something held her back with a strength as it were irre- 
 istible. It seemed as if powerful arms were around her, 
 drawing her from the brink of an abyss, as if eyes, which 
 that very night had flashed upon her with a power unknown 
 before, revealing in burning characters the hitherto invisi 
 ble writing traced on the mystic scroll of her heart, were 
 fixed upon her with scorching intensity ; as if voices were 
 whispering around and about her " Thou, who hast been 
 a martyr to truth and integrity, wilt thou falsify thyself 
 now 1 For the weak compassion of a moment, wilt thou 
 sacrifice thy life-long joy 1 Who knows but by this very 
 act thou may'st destroy the happiness of another than St, 
 Leon, as well as thy own 1" 
 
 " Are you going to let him die ?" whispered a grave 
 voice in her ear. She started, and a cold tremor shook 
 her frame. It seemed to her that she lived years in that 
 warring moment, and when she heard the tones of Doctor 
 Hale, so earnest, yet so low, so upbraiding as she thought, 
 they had a strange, unnatural sound, like the accents of 
 a friend from whom we have been long parted. 
 
 " Can I save him T' she cried, grasping his hand with 
 unconscious energy. " I am not a physician. Why do you 
 throw the burden of his life on me 1 Do you wish to 
 denounce me as a murderess at the bar of God 1" She 
 spoke wildly in her excitement she hardly knew what 
 she uttered. 
 
 " This is a strange case both very strange," muttered 
 the doctor. " I hardly know what to make of either of 
 them. You had better retire," he added, to Eoline, "if you 
 cannot apply the antidote, your presence must prove a 
 bane."
 
 EOLINE J OK, MAGNOLIA VALE. 185 
 
 He was displeased with her, and his countenance ex 
 pressed his sentiments more fully than he was aware of. 
 Her agonized cry in the concert-room " Good Heavens ! 
 will nobody help him 1" the cry of life, for life so awfully 
 smitten down by her side, and which he mistook for that 
 of a wrung and bleeding heart, was still echoing in his 
 ears. He could not understand the extraordinary agita 
 tion she now exhibited, or reconcile it with her reluctance 
 to soothe his apparently expiring patient, by the utterance 
 of feelings she had unconsciously exhibited in the first 
 moment of his danger. Turning coldly from her, he 
 again approached St. Leon, whose appealing eyes were 
 riveted on Eoline with an expression she seemed no longer 
 able to resist. Hurrying forward, she knelt, so that her 
 face was concealed in the folds of the sheet, and ex 
 claimed, 
 
 "Live, St. Leon, and live for me." 
 
 "That will do, that will do," said the doctor, in a much 
 softened tone. Bless you, young lady now you may go. 
 My anodyne may take effect after this. Not another word, 
 my patient 5 not another syllable for your life. There, 
 young gentleman, I commit her to your care," added he, 
 almost carrying Eoline to the door, near which Horace 
 Cleveland awaited her coming. He had too much deli 
 cacy to intrude upon a scene he considered sacred, not 
 doubting it was for an affianced lover that Eoline trembled 
 and wept. 
 
 " Your father and brother are well," said he, as they 
 passed along through the dimly-lighted passage. " I saw 
 them a day or two before I left home. You received the 
 flowers which Willie sent you did you not V 
 
 "I did," she answered, "but my father sent he no 
 message to his banished daughter!" 
 
 Horace could not repeat the cruel words he had heard 
 her father utter, neither could he frame a falsehood.
 
 186 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "He feels y.>ur absence I see, I know he does but he 
 is too proud to acknowledge it." 
 
 " Oh ! that I had never left him !" exclaimed Eoline, 
 with a burst of feeling she tried in vain to repress. 
 
 " Would to Heaven you never had !" cried Horace, with 
 ' n emphasis of which he was not aware. 
 
 They did not speak again, but walked on in silence to 
 he door of the sitting-room. He felt her leaning more 
 heavily on his arm, and when they entered the apartment, 
 where a brighter light flashed upon them, he saw that her 
 complexion was of a deadly pallor. He gave her a glass 
 of water with a trembling hand. As she took it, and lifted 
 it to her lips, she raised her eyes to his, and something in 
 their expression made her shudder. 
 
 " I cannot drink it," said she, placing the glass upon the 
 table, and sinking into a chair. " If I were alone," she 
 murmured, passing her hand dreamily over her forehead 
 " I think I should be well. There is something feels very 
 cold and tight here." 
 
 "You are not well, Eoline," said he, sitting down by 
 her, and taking her passive hand in his. " This interview 
 has been too much for you. I regret that I have been the 
 instrument of so much sorrow to you. But do not, I en 
 treat you, yield too readily to your fears. I shall remain 
 with Mr. St. Leon during the night, as well as Doctor 
 Hale. He shall have every care that skill and kindness 
 can bestow. Eoline, most willingly would I redeem his 
 life by the sacrifice of my own if by so doing I could 
 ecure your happiness and now go and take care of your 
 self; let no anxiety which I can relieve rest upon your 
 heart." 
 
 Eoline returned the parting pressure of his hand, with 
 one as cold as marble. Taking the lamp, she waited till 
 f he last echo of his footsteps died away on the stillness of 
 night, then sought her own room. She did not stop to
 
 EOLINE ; OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 187 
 
 speak with Louisa, though she saw a light glimmering un 
 der the door, and knew she waited her return. She could 
 not speak to a human being. She felt the necessity of 
 being alone to loosen the feelings so long suppressed, 
 that were tightening like a metallic girdle round her heart. 
 She could not sleep she could not even lie down on her 
 pillow. The night was sultry and oppressive, and her lit 
 tle chamber seemed too narrow and close for the restless 
 movements of her spirit. Kneeling down by the open 
 window, and looking up into the dark blue, moonless 
 depths of midnight, she sighed and wept under the myste 
 rious burden of life. 
 
 At length the deep stillness of the air was stirred, as if 
 by a thousand invisible wings. The night-wind rose and 
 moaned through the tall branches of the Tree of Heaven, 
 that swept against the window-frame, and the dull roar of 
 the mill-dam murmured gloomily in her ear. The beating 
 of her own heart sounded like the ticking of the death- 
 watch, and the shadow of her bed against the cold, white 
 wall, assumed the long, sharp, formal outline of a coffin. 
 The full valance, waving to and fro in the rising breeze, 
 flapped like a funeral pall. Sometimes a lone bird would 
 breathe forth a mournful, solitary note, in the deep pine 
 woods, and she imagined it the dying wail of St. Leon. 
 Then she transported herself in fancy to the brilliant con 
 cert-room, the scene of flowers, music and splendor to 
 the moment when her wandering eye was arrested by the 
 magnetic glance darting from the embrasure that glance 
 which was indeed the lightning's flash. What Promethean 
 fire h^d suddenly kindled that cold eye, and given it 
 such strange fascination 1 What power had modulated 
 that deep-toned voice, so that it fell like the music of 
 Heaven upon her ear 1 
 
 The morning found Eoline still kneeling by the open 
 window, her head bowed upon her arms, and her locks
 
 188 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 literally heavy with the dews of night. She had fallen 
 asleep, just at breaking day. Thus Louisa found her, 
 when she softly unfolded the door, for Miss Manly had 
 omitted the awakening blast of the horn for St. Leon's 
 sake. Strangely did Eoline look, in that lowly, drooping 
 attitude, in her gossamer robes and azure ribbons floating 
 loosely round her, and pearls glittering like dew-drops in 
 her hair. 
 
 And there was another who had kept vigils through the 
 remnant of that night. Another who was draining in 
 secret the bitter dregs of mortification and grief. Miss 
 Manly, who had presided with such masculine dignity 
 'during the evening, and who in general seemed inaccessible 
 to all softer emotions, had saturated her pillow with tears, 
 such as she had never wept before. We have said that 
 St. Leon was the first man who had ever touched her 
 hitherto invulnerable heart. By an inexplicable self-delu 
 sion, she had flattered herself that she had awakened a 
 tender interest in him. It is true, she regarded Eoline 
 as a powerful rival, but she still looked forward to a day 
 of final triumph, a day when she would reign in undivided 
 sovereignty over his affections. Blinded by self-love, she 
 could not, would not see, what was visible to every percep 
 tion but hers. But now the bandage was fallen from her 
 eyes. All the preposterousness, the magnitude of her folly, 
 glared upon her at once. She seemed looking at herself 
 through a solar microscope, and in what she had hitherto 
 believed pure elements, she beheld serpents writhing, 
 ana monsters crawling, and everything instinct with unna 
 tural and destructive life. This astonishing self-revelation 
 was the work of a moment. One simple fact had reflected 
 the whole. Believing himself dying, his sole thought was 
 of Eoline, his sole wish to see her once more. He had 
 forgotten her existence, forgotten her who was suffering
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 189 
 
 pangs of anxiety for him, such as a Roman heroine only 
 could conceal. 
 
 But she was a woman of too much good sense, strong 
 sense, to be the slave of any weakness, when it was once 
 fully revealed to herself. She had not studied the example 
 of the great ones of the earth for nothing. There was 
 really no shame in feeling human passions, and there was 
 glory in conquering them. The lion Queens of England 
 and Sweden were weak and fallible as herself weaker 
 for she would triumph over her bosom foible and she 
 did. 
 
 At the breakfast-table Dr. Hale announced that St. 
 Leon had slept tranquilly the latter part of the night, and 
 that he did not despair of his ultimate recovery. 
 
 "It is a very singular case," said the doctor, "very sin 
 gular, indeed. I should call it an affection of the heart; 
 yet there are symptoms which I have never met with in a 
 disease of that kind. He is a very idiosyncratic young 
 man. He must be kept perfectly composed and still for 
 the present. I think," he added, looking towards Eoline, 
 "that I leave a far better physician behind me than I am 
 myself, one whose prescriptions seem to have a sorcery 
 which I should like to learn." 
 
 "When Eoline rose from her untasted breakfast, the 
 doctor took her hand and began to count her faint and 
 languid pulse. The marble pallidness of her complexion, 
 the frozen calm of her countenance, the icy coldness of 
 her touch, and the dull, slow beating of her pulse, all 
 continued the same as her hand rested passively in his 
 There was something about her that .puzzled him exceed 
 ingly. If she did not love St. Leon, why should she dis 
 play such excessive sensibility on his account 1 If she did. 
 why the reluctance to acknowledge the affection, and give 
 the testimony for which he pleaded with such intense agony 1 
 She had exhibited no rapture, when he had said there was
 
 "*WO EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 a hope of his ultimate recovery. Even Miss Manly's fac* 
 was expressive of more joy than hers. While he was pon 
 dering on these inconsistencies, still counting profession ally 
 her languid pulsations, Horace Cleveland entered the room 
 The languid pulse gave a quick bound, and the slow mov 
 
 ng blood rushed through the veins, and rose instantaneously 
 
 o her pallid cheeks. 
 
 "Well," thought he, "here is another enigma!" 
 He knew something of the history of Eoline, for rumor 
 had spread it with her hundred tongues, and he had also 
 ascertained that this was the identical young man, whom, 
 to avoid marrying, she had relinquished the luxuries of a 
 splendid home. Now, this seemed very unaccountable. 
 Horace was so fine, so intellectual a young man 
 
 " Not his the form, not his the eye, 
 That youthful maidens wont to fly." 
 
 So he had thought the preceding evening and now, 
 when he felt the bounding pulse, and saw the glowing hue 
 caused by his sudden entrance, it seemed more unaccount 
 able still. Indifference could not cause such strong emo 
 tion. Dislike nor anger never wore a blush so soft, so deep, 
 as now transformed the cold pale statue into a living, throb 
 bing, heart-awakened woman. He could only repeat his 
 first reflection, " that woman was a strange enigma," and 
 congratulate himself on his homeward way that Mrs. Hale 
 was one of those transparent-minded and single-hearted 
 beings that he could read through without any strange 
 perplexity. 
 
 It was impossible that the doctor's injunction of perfect 
 quietude could be observed that day, for the departure of 
 so many pupils inevitably caused much bustle and confusion. 
 The lower passage was lined with trunks and carpet-bags 
 and bandboxes the road in front of the lawn darkened 
 with carriages. One by one the young girls were borne 
 away Darling Fanny, warm-hearted Selma, gentle Annie,
 
 EOLINE } OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 19 1 
 
 and blooming Bessie, hung around Eoline with tears in 
 their eyes, arid smiles on their lips. The tears were for 
 her, the smiles for the homes to which they were bound 
 Eoline stood in the door watching them as they rolled 
 away from her sight. She loved all the household pupils, 
 but dearly did she love these sweet young friends. Even 
 Jerusha had awakened her interest, for she had suffered 
 and toiled for her. Moreover, they were all going home, 
 the forfeit Eden of her own young heart, and it is no 
 wonder she followed the carriages with tearful eyes, while 
 the excited travellers threw back kisses as long as they 
 could catch a glimpse of her figure in the open portals 
 of the Seminary.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Several days had passed since the exciting scenes of the 
 concert. St. Leon was able to sit up, bolstered by pil 
 lows, in an easy chair ; and even Miss Manly, to whom 
 " consideration had, like an angel come," began to think 
 there was no impropriety in ministering to his weakness ; 
 Louisa, like a true-hearted sister, associated herself with 
 Eoline in her attentions to the invalid, who felt as if in 
 haling an atmosphere of Paradise. The words "Live, 
 St. Leon, and live for me," which had fallen from the 
 pale lips of Eoline, when she thought soul and body were 
 parting, were echoing in his ears by day and by night, in 
 waking and in dreams. He longed to hear her repeat the 
 life-giving sentence, but whenever she approached him, 
 Louisa was with her, in whose presence he could not ask 
 what his sighing heart and expressive eyes continually de 
 manded. 
 
 He had another visitor, by day a visitor, by night a 
 nurse, and that was Horace Cleveland, but Horace began 
 to think it was best to go, and so he told Eoline, when, 
 having followed her into the piazza after the hour of sup 
 per, he sat down beside her in the soft gloom of dying 
 twilight. How still and lonely seemed that broad, shaded 
 lawn, whose grassy surface had been so long crushed and 
 worn by so many bounding footsteps ! How still seemed 
 those long, winding galleries, where no light shadows were 
 reflected, no soft whisper or stifled laugh borne to the ear ! 
 But more lonely still seemed the heart of Eoline, when 
 Horace said he should go away by early dawn, when to 
 return, he knew not. There was a support, a protection 
 
 (192)
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 193 
 
 in his presence, to which she unconsciously clung. He 
 had asked her H look upon him as a brother, and never 
 had she so desired to lean upon a brother's arm as at this 
 moment, when the consciousness of having sealed her 
 earthly destiny by a few impulsive words, pressed coldly 
 and heavily on her heart. There was a warmth, a re 
 strained tenderness in the manner of Horace which touched 
 her more, 'from its being unexpected; and his eyes so 
 full of deep and earnest thought but which alway8 
 seemed so far away, even whan looking upon her, now 
 flashing near, and still nearer, penetrated into the ,central 
 depths of her spirit, kindling its latent fires. Silently they 
 thus sat, in that soft gloom and breathing stillness these 
 two beings, whom parental authority had endeavored to 
 force together, whom their own independent spirits had so 
 widely sundered, and on whom a secret and powerful 
 magnetism was now but too late exerting its influence. 
 
 " I have felt very unhappy," said Horace, breaking a 
 silence which began to be too oppressive, " in thinking of 
 the uncertainty of your destiny. I did think of urging 
 y<Jli strenuously to return to your father, trusting to the 
 love which I know he feels for an unconditional reconcili 
 ation. I did think of soliciting to accompany you, and 
 assuming the blessed office of peace-maker^ however pre 
 sumptuous it might seem. But since I have been here, 
 circumstances have arisen which would make my interfe 
 rence more than superfluous. I perceive, Eoline, that 
 your destiny is fixed, and God grant it may be a happv 
 one." 
 
 4^He paused in extreme agitation but Eoline could not 
 have spoken, had her life depended upon the act. 
 
 "I feel," continued he, with still deeper emotion, "that 
 in this interview, the last one of unrestrained confidence 
 we may ever enjoy, I must give utterance to feelings that 
 are wholly irrepressible. They are new and overwhelm 
 82
 
 19-i EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE 
 
 ing, and will not be restrained. Eoline you deserve an 
 atonement for my past indifference, injuirtice, stoicism. 
 You deserve an expiation for all the sacrifices you have 
 made the trials you have endured for me. Now, when 
 it is too late, when I know that you are lost to me for 
 ever when a dark abyss seems opening between us, I feel 
 that I love you, with a love purer, deeper, stronger than 
 ever yet warmed the breast of man. Triumph, Eoline, 
 triumph in this confession, wrung from me by throes of 
 passion too mighty to be insisted." 
 
 It is impossible to give an idea of the force, the ear 
 nestness of his manner. He rose and wound one arm 
 round the pillar against which Eoline was seated, and 
 leaned his head upon the cold stone. 
 
 ** Triumph!" repeated Eoline, in a low voice, "oh, 
 Horace, how little do you know me. Triumph ! oh, had 1 
 heard those words but one week sooner, they might have 
 filled me with triumphant joy. Now, alas ! it is indeed 
 too late." 
 
 "One week!" exclaimed Horace, "surely the love 
 which rises as a barrier against mine, is not the growth 
 of one little week." 
 
 Eoline had solved in one moment the great problem 
 of her life, the mystery of her own heart. To know that 
 she was beloved by Horace, as the strong in mind and 
 heart alone can love, would have created a joy too intense, 
 a triumph, as he called it, too glorious, had it not been 
 chastened and darkened by the conviction that it was too 
 late ! She felt that it was due to him, to relate the whol 
 history of her acquaintance with St. Leon, her first impres 
 sions, her after misgivings, settling i/ito a firm belief that 
 he was wanting in those master qualities necessary to in 
 spire her love and then the self-sacrifice she had made to 
 impart happiness to his dying hour. And she did do this, 
 whiU walking with him arm-in-arm, through the hedges of
 
 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 195 
 
 rose-trees that bordered the lawn. She went back still 
 farther, and told him the hopes she had cherished befoie his 
 return from abroad that she could inspire that affection 
 which would sanction the bonds their parents had imposed, 
 her disappointment at his coldness and reserve, her strug 
 gles before leaving home, her awakened interest when 
 he visited her before, and the sudden but complete expan 
 sion of her heart during their present intercourse. Under 
 any other circumstances she could not thus have revealed 
 her inner being, rbut it is said death is an honest hour, 
 and this which confessed the birth of love, must prove 
 its living grave. 
 
 " And now, Horace, I have opened to you my whole 
 heart, only to close it up forever. This disclosure was 
 your right, anything more would be infringing the rights 
 of another. \V hen I uttered the words which sever me 
 from you, I believed them addressed to a dying man, though 
 I said in my soul, I will leave the future in the hands of 
 God. They are as binding as an oath, and have sealed 
 my destiny forever." 
 
 "Had you known that I loved you, Eoline, would you 
 then have bid St. Leon live for you!" 
 
 "No, I could not then have sacrificed your happiness. 
 Had it been placed in my keeping, neither life nor death 
 could have made me faithless to the trust. It was to avoid 
 endangering that more than any other consideration, which 
 led me to resist my father's will. I have always felt I had 
 a right to dispose of my own, if by so doing I could re 
 deem another from misery." 
 
 "How calmly you talk, how coldly you reason," ex 
 claimed Horace, passionately, "when my whole brain, 
 my whole heart are on fire. I am maddened, Eoline 
 maddened when I think of my past blindness, my present 
 loss, my future despair." 
 
 " The very depth of despair gives calmness," cried Eoline,
 
 196 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 tn an accent that expressed more than her words. Horace 
 felt his injustice, but every passion was raging in his bosom, 
 and he could not still them. There was another reason 
 for Eoline's calmness. The self-sacrificing spirit is always 
 strong. There is a sustaining power given to those who 
 are willing to sit in darkness that others may have light 
 to walk on thorns that others may tread a path of 
 roses. 
 
 "There is a way, Eoline," Horace suddenly exclaimed, 
 " I see it as clear as noonday ; I will go to St. Leon, and 
 tell him all. He cannot, he ought not to take advantage 
 of your noble, generous impulses. Your happiness 
 ought to be dearer than his own. He could not, would 
 not ask or wish your hand, without your heart. Eoline, 
 let us go together our only safety, our only trust is in 
 truth." 
 
 " You do not know St. Leon," said she, laying her 
 hand on his arm, and arresting his hurrid steps "we shall 
 murder him at once. This very morning Doctor Hale 
 told me that the slightest agitation might prove his death 
 at any moment. Think if he could survive the blow you 
 meditate. You have no conception of the strength, the 
 violence of his love. It is not love it is idolatry." 
 
 " The love which you inspire must be idolatry, Eoline. 
 I feel it but too well." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Eoline, "how little we know ourselves. 
 I once thought it would be sweet to be loved, passionately 
 loved, even by those whom I loved not in return but St. 
 eon's love has always saddened me by its very excess. 
 Then I thought if the sensibilities of my own heart were 
 awakened, and its capacities known, if I could learn the 
 height and the depth thereof, it would be an earnest of 
 the joys of Heaven. And it is. I have felt as happy, for 
 a little while to-night, as human nature is capable of feeling. 
 Through all life its memory will remain. Even in death,
 
 EOLINE ; on, MAGNOLIA VALE. 197 
 
 it will not perish for our affections are immortal and 
 God himself is love." 
 
 Eoline had not slept for several nights, and for days 
 her nerves had been in a state of constant tension. She 
 had had no rest since the fatigue and excitement of the 
 concert, and she might be said to have lived on air, so 
 little food had passed her lips. In such a state of the 
 nervous system it is not strange that her interview with 
 Horace, so agitating in its nature, should have had some 
 thing of the influence of opium. She felt unnaturally 
 spiritualized, exalted, and her language partook of the high 
 wrought tone of her feelings. 
 
 " Yes," she added, " the remembrance of this night will 
 strengthen me in all coming duties. And so it will you. 
 You will go out into the world and be a wrestler for its 
 honors and win its laurels of fame. And I shall hear 
 of you and be proud. I shall say, ' he is my friend, my 
 brother, the friend and brother of my soul.' " 
 
 "I care not for honors now, Eoline I care not for 
 laurels, i have had high thoughts, lofty aspirations. In 
 the solitary musings of my youth, I was always looking 
 forward to some great future. Meditation, born of ancient 
 lore, sat a cold-lipped hermit at my side, pointing to the 
 distant horizon, to the dim and hazy hills. All that was 
 near and intermediate was overlooked. The future it 
 was always the future ! and now what is it 1 A blank } 
 No, worse than a blank ! for disappointment and misery aie 
 written upon it !" 
 
 " This is unworthy of yourself, Horace, and of me. 
 Great minds never despair they struggle with destiny, 
 and triumph in the conflict, it is the weak only who 
 yield. Let the selfish live for their own happiness. Let 
 us live for something noble, Horace, the happiness of 
 others." 
 
 The force, the sublimity of this sentiment, touched a
 
 J98 EOLINE: OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 corresponding chord in the bosom of Horace. Yes! he 
 would live for others, for the good of mankind. He would 
 become the protector of the oppressed, the refuge of the 
 weak, the avenger of the innocent. He would become 
 eloquent, that crime might shrink abashed from his pre 
 sence, and guilt from before the lightning of his glance. 
 The crowned champion of man's rights, he would defend 
 them with an arm of strength and a heart of steel. The 
 wail of human misery rising from the bosom of the earth, 
 up to the ear of God, should change to notes of joy, as far 
 as his power extended. Then Eoline would hear of him, 
 and though reclining on the bosom of another, she would 
 bless his name and glory in his virtues. 
 
 Warmed with a noble emulation, he breathed these re 
 solves into her ear, as they approached the steps of the 
 piazza. She felt proud to have inspired them proud that 
 she had at last done justice to his exalted character. His 
 protestations of love did not cause so deep a thrill as 
 this almost divine philanthropy. The first humbled while 
 they enraptured her, for they were beyond her merits ; the 
 last ennobled himself, and prospectively blest mankind. 
 They now stood upon the threshold, and the shadows of 
 twilight had deepened into the gloom of night. 
 
 " Farewell, Horace," said she, while her hand lingered 
 in the farewell clasp of his, " we part here when to meet 
 again, God only knows ! I do not ask, I do not wish," 
 she added, in a faltering voice, "that you -should entirely 
 forget me, but think of me only as a sister, and pray for 
 me as such." 
 
 Horace held her hand in the strong yet trembling grasp 
 of his, then suddenly dropping it, exclaimed, 
 
 " This is not a brother's parting. For the first, for the 
 last time, Eoline," and clasping his arms passionately 
 round her, kissed her pale cheek, and was gone. Gone ! 
 what a word that is ! the heavy clod falling on the coffin-
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 199 
 
 lid of hope ! Gone ! the sad heart echoes, and what an 
 abysmal void is left ! 
 
 Day by day strength returned to the languid frame of 
 St. Leon. He could leave his room he could walk 
 through the rose-hedges, leaning on the arm of Eoline 
 and breathe the fresh and balmy air. He was the mos 
 interesting invalid in the world so grateful, so gentle, so 
 childlike in his dependence and trust. He seemed to have 
 no misgiving for the future. With such a hope as now 
 animated him, health and strength must soon return. He 
 would dwell for hours on the luxuriant beauties of his na 
 tive clime, of its groves of orange and palmetto bowers, 
 in whose shades the sweet nightingale of the South should 
 find her downy nest. At the close of every soft and 
 glowing description of this future Eden of their hearts, 
 he would implore her to repeat the magic words that had 
 brought him back to life and happiness and Eoline, with 
 a pallid cheek, but heavenly glance, would utter, in a low, 
 tremulous voice, 
 
 " Live, St. Leon, for God and me." 
 
 Miss Manly, who had made preparations to visit her 
 Northern friends during the Summer holidays, and who 
 had been detained by the illness of St. Leon, now 
 asked the opinion of Doctor Hale with regard to his 
 patient. 
 
 "He must go with you," said the doctor, decidedly 
 "He is now equal to the journey, and a Northern toui 
 will give a tone to his system which could not be imparted 
 in our debilitating climate. He could not be in better 
 hands than yours and Miss Louisa's and Uncle Ben ia 
 worth a hundred Doctors, myself included. Are you will 
 ing that he should accompany you V' 
 
 " Certainly," replied Miss Manly, with a glow of plea 
 sure her cold exterior did not betray. " The only barrier 
 to my departure is now removed. But Miss Glenmore,"
 
 200 EOLINE j OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 added she, hesitatingly, "I once invited her to join our 
 party to the North, but she declined. Is she now included 
 in this journey 1" 
 
 " No," said the doctor, " I am going to take her under 
 my charge. My wife, who is something of an invalid, is 
 going to try the waters of the Springs, so cele 
 brated for their pure and bracing qualities. The baths 
 are delicious, the scenery wild and romantic. She is de 
 sirous of a companion, and Miss Glenmore is one she will 
 especially delight in. I have arranged all this, and have 
 no doubt I shall obtain the young lady's consent. She 
 told me the other day, with one of those heaven-born 
 emiles of hers, that I was irresistible." 
 
 The truth was, the doctor, notwithstanding his perplex 
 ity with regard to her, had become deeply interested in 
 the young enigma. The remarkable union of strength and 
 sensibility in her character had won his respect and admi 
 ration, and her unprotected situation as a discarded daugh 
 ter, his sympathy and tenderness. Though he hoped much 
 from the invigorating air of the North for the delicate 
 constitution of St. Leon, he feared also. The nature of 
 his disease rendered him liable to a sudden death, and he 
 wished to spare Eoline the trial of witnessing it. 
 
 She heard the proposition with so much gratitude and 
 feeling, he blessed himself for having made it. 
 
 " Thank you, sir, a thousand times, for your kind con 
 sideration," said she, with a joyful sense of relief from a 
 strange embarrassment. " Nothing could be more pleas- 
 ng, under existing circumstances. For, indeed," she 
 dded, with a rising blush, " during Miss Manly's absence 
 I hardly know where to go." 
 
 The doctor had far greater difficulty in persuading St 
 Leon to accede to his plans. He strenuously opposed the 
 riea of being parted from Eoline. If she would consent 
 .0 be united to him, and bear him company, he would be
 
 EOLINE , OB, MAGNOLIA VALE, 201 
 
 willing to go to the ends of the earth, but it was far bet 
 ter to remain near her and die, than seek life where she 
 was not. 
 
 " Come, St. Leon," said the doctor, in that tone of kind 
 authority he knew so well how to assume, "you must not 
 be selfish. I must take yourEoline under my own charge 
 for a time, and bring back her vanishing roses. Were she 
 to accompany you, anxiety on your account would keep 
 her in a state of constant excitement, and she wants rest 
 and recreation. You, too, need rest and in her presence 
 you cannot feel it. No, no you must not think of mak 
 ing the least opposition. It is all for the best. You will 
 return a renovated being, and claim a bright and blooming 
 oride." 
 
 St. Leon at last consented to be guided by the com 
 manding will he had not mental strength to resist, and sub 
 mitted his passions to the control of reason. 
 
 " And now, my dear Louisa," said Eoline to her, the 
 night before her departure, after a long and heart-revealing 
 conversation, "you know all, all the strength, and all 
 the weakness of my soul. You remember, when I told you 
 in this very room what love I wish to inspire and what 
 to feel. I have inspired and felt, and must ever feel all 
 I then described ; oh ! what a strange and wayward destiny! 
 The same being the cold and impassive being from whom 
 I fled, to save him as well as myself from an unloving 
 wedlock, now seems a twin-born soul, united to mine with 
 clasps strong as iron, and indestructible as gold. But 
 St. Leon has my tenderness, pity, sympathy, and sisterly 
 regard. He shall never know that I am capable of a warm 
 er feeling than he has awakened. If I have erred in utter 
 ing more than a true heart sanctions, he shall never suffer 
 for my dereliction, from the stern principles of truth and 
 sincerity. Louisa, I believed him dying, and to give peace 
 to his departing soul, I did what I trust a God of Mercy
 
 202 EOLINE; on, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 will forgive. I was even vile enough to mourn that the 
 hour of death passed by, that the destroying angel relented 
 when he looked upon his victim. I have resolved that my 
 whole life shall be devoted to expiation for this sin. I 
 would go with him this moment, but the doctor asserts that 
 my presence will^retard his restoration, and prove a bane 
 rather than an antidote. To your tender care I commit 
 him. Watch over him as a loving sister, as the guardian 
 angel you were born to be -to weak and suffering man. 
 Miss Manly is kind and devoted, but she lacks the soft 
 ness and gentleness of womanhood, she is wanting in 
 what Nature has lavished on you." 
 
 Louisa wept as she listened to the tender, solemn words 
 of Eoline, and promised all she required. 
 
 "And now farewell, my own dear friend," continued 
 Eoline, folding her arms around her. " I shall not see 
 you in the morning. You are going to the embraces of a 
 fond mother and gentle sisters, to the hallowed joys of a 
 native home. You must be happy. / might have been 
 reconciled to my father and restored to his affection, but it 
 was too late. How selfish I am, Louisa I must go to St. 
 Leon now and arm myself with fortitude to cheer and 
 console him. To-morrow the task must be yours." 
 
 On the morrow the portals and blinds of the Magnolia 
 Vale Seminary were all closed. The kitchen and negro 
 cabins were still occupied, but the stillness of death reigned 
 in the mansion in which so many hearts had lately 
 throbbed. 
 
 Eoline, whose feelings had been sorely tried the pre 
 ceding night, leaned back in the carriage, and under the 
 covering folds of her veil, concealed her sad countenance 
 from the gaze of her new friend. Mrs. Hale was ?11 kind 
 ness, but she was almost a stranger, and Eoline naturally 
 shrunk from any display of sensibility before one who wa* 
 unacquainted with its source. The doctor had placed her
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE, 
 
 tinder his wife's protection, and recommended her as care 
 fully as if she were a patient, but he could not leave his 
 professional duties to accompany them. At first she felt 
 very strange and sorrowful, but the sweet influences of 
 the season, the beautiful scenery through which they rode, 
 he easy, yet brisk motion of the carriage, and, more than 
 11, the natural elasticity of her spirits, contributed to 
 chase the cloud from her brow. Her grateful apprecia 
 tion of the doctor's kindness made her endeavor to prove 
 a cheering companion to his gen^ and charming wife, 
 and justify his praises. 
 
 She was enchanted with the wild beauties of the 
 
 Springs. The clear, pure mountain air, the icy cold water, 
 the delicious baths, the Alpine glens and forest bowers 
 all infused new life into her languid veins. Then the 
 stream of existence flowing in and flowing out the whole 
 time, the new faces, so soon becoming familiar, and the 
 familiar ones so soon gone, to give place to others ; the 
 constant changes were animating to one so long confined 
 to the monotony of a school, where the same figures always 
 meet the gaze, where one day is an epitome of the next, 
 and where the constant ringing of the bell imparts a brazen 
 tone to the existence. 
 
 Eoline, who believed herself the saddest, most subdued 
 and resigned of human beings, was astonished to find her 
 self interested in all that surrounded her. The great prin 
 ciple of vitality, fed by new fuel, and burning with new 
 fire and brightness, triumphed in a great measure over the 
 depressing influence of past trials. She did not wish t 
 be borne^on the tide of fashionable amusements ; she came, 
 she said, "to be a looker on in Venice." And true to her 
 resolution she would take her place quietly at Mrs. Hale's 
 side, resolved to find gratification in witnessing the enjoy 
 ment of others. But she was too beautiful, too charming 
 to be left quiet in the gay scene. There could be no
 
 204> EOLINE; on, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 music without her voice, and she was too unaffectedly 
 obliging to refuse when she could impart pleasure by 
 compliance. She would often say, " I will not dance to 
 night," but when entreated to make up the one wanting 
 couple in a quadrille, she would yield, not like an auto 
 maton, but a real living sylph of the season. Eoline did 
 not wish to be a belle. She had too many causes for deep 
 and anxious thought to desire to be an object of public 
 admiration. The heart that truly loves has no room for 
 vanity or pride. Ardl Eoline not only loved, but was 
 condemned to struggle with emotions which, if no barrier 
 interrupted, she would have gloried in acknowledging. But 
 the distinction which others sought was forced on her and 
 wherever she moved, she was followed by a crowd of ad 
 mirers, many of whom she would gladly have transferred 
 to her less attractive companions. 
 
 One evening she noticed a tall, thin, sallow gentleman, 
 with a very intelligent and striking countenance, walking 
 in the public hall, with a young, but pale and wildly- 
 mournful looking female clinging to his arm. There was 
 something in her appearance that strangely interested her. 
 Her large and intensely black eyes wandered vaguely over 
 the gay throng, without resting a moment on any particu 
 lar object, and there was a listlessness in her air which be 
 trayed perfect indifference to the impression she might 
 make on others. The only thing that seemed to interest 
 her was music, and when Eoline, seated at the piano, 
 which was on an elevated platform at the extremity of the 
 hall, drew the crowd around her by the sorcery of her 
 witching voice, the pale, wild-eyed young stranger came 
 nearer and nearer, leaning on the arm of the sallow and 
 intellectual-faced gentleman, and seemed to glue those 
 wild eyes on the beautiful face of the songstress. The 
 gentleman, though apparently of her father's age, seemed 
 ucarcely less interested. Every time she looked up, she
 
 EOLINE; OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 205 
 
 encountered his fixed and penetrating gaze, as well as the 
 melancholy glance of his strange companion. During the 
 whole evening they seemed to be hovering near her. She 
 was told they were strangers, who had just arrived, and 
 no one with whom she conversed was aware of their 
 names. 
 
 At length, the gentleman, taking advantage of a mo 
 ment when he could obtain access to Eoline, approached, 
 md said, 
 
 "Pardon me, Miss Glenmore, for this intrusion. But 
 ine of your father's earliest friends takes the liberty of 
 tddressing you. Perhaps you may have heard him men 
 tion the name of Wilton." 
 
 "Often, sir," replied Eoline, with cordial frankness. 
 v 'But I did not think, you would recognize me from my 
 resemblance to my father. We are not supposed to be 
 alike." 
 
 " There is indeed little similitude," said Mr. Wilton, 
 "and I did not imagine when I first beheld you, that I 
 looked upon the daughter of my friend, that daughter I 
 have been so anxious to see. I had no difficulty in know 
 ing Miss Glenmore. I have heard hardly any name but 
 hers since entering the hall. But let me introduce, you 
 to my daughter, Mrs. Lovell. Amelia, my dear, this ia 
 Miss Glenmore, the young lady whose sweet voice charmed 
 you an hour ago." 
 
 Amelia gazed earnestly at Eoline, but suffered her cold 
 hand to remain passive in the soft clasp of Eoline's. 
 
 " Is your father with you V' asked Mr. Wilton. 
 
 " No, sir," answered Eoline, the blood rushing painfully 
 iO her face. "I am under the protection of a lady who 
 will be happy to make your acquaintance. She sits in the 
 opposite corner of the hall. Shall we go to her 1" 
 
 " How long is it since you have seen your father V
 
 206 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 inquired Mr. Wilton, anxiously, as they approached Mrs. 
 Hale. 
 
 " It is many months, sir," she replied, with an involun 
 tary sigh. 
 
 " He visited me early in the spring," said Mr. Wilton, 
 wondering that the letter of his friend had not softened 
 the heart of the estranged daughter, and carried her back 
 to her father's arms. " He spoke of you, and created in 
 me a strong desire to see a young lady possessed of so firm 
 and independent a character." 
 
 She could not judge from his accent whether he spoke 
 in praise or blame. It was evident her history was known. 
 It was more than probable that her father had represented 
 her, as she appeared to him, obstinate, ungrateful, and self- 
 willed, and that Mr. Wilton regarded her in a prejudiced 
 and unfavorable light. 
 
 " When a young lady is forced to act independently,' 
 sai^Eoline, with a conscious blush, " she is very apt to in 
 cur the censure of the world. Strength of principle may 
 be mistaken for obstinacy, and self-reliance be branded as 
 eelf-will." 
 
 They had now reached the place where Mrs. Hale was 
 seated, and the ceremony of introduction interrupted the 
 conversation. Amelia seemed glad to sit down by the 
 pleasing and sweet-looking lady who greeted her so kindly, 
 and when Mr. Wilton saw her nestling at her side, as if 
 shrinking from the gay crowd with timidity and terror, he 
 turned to Eoline, and asked her if she were willing to 
 take the arm of her father's friend, and seek the cool air 
 of the piazza a few moments. 
 
 Eoline complied, but the hand trembled that rested on 
 his arm. She thought he was going to urge her father's 
 claim to obedience, and the wall she had herself built up 
 against compliance, rose up before her with frowning height.
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 207 
 
 Neither could she bear to hear Horace Cleveland spoken of 
 as an object of aversion and avoidance. 
 
 " I honor your principles, Miss Glenmore," said her new 
 friend, pausing near a pillar, against which he leaned. " I 
 admire the dignity, the loftiness of character you have 
 exhibited, and which I have never seen equalled in one so 
 young. But vindictive feelings against a parent appear so 
 inconsistent with the sensibility and gentleness your coun 
 tenance expresses, I regret extremely seeing you still in a 
 state of estrangement." 
 
 " I have never cherished vindictive feelings towards my 
 father, sir," exclaimed Eoline, deeply wounded. " You 
 wrong me greatly. I have always felt for him the tender 
 ness, affection, and respect of a daughter." 
 
 " Then why not return to his protecting arms." 
 
 "Because, sir, there are conditions which it is now im 
 possible for me to conform to." 
 
 " But when he offered you unconditional forgiveness 
 when he wrote in terms which, to a proud man like him, 
 must have been like writing in blood, and entreated you 
 to return ; pardon me, but it does seem " 
 
 " Wrote to me, my father write my father entreat 
 me to return !" exclaimed she, catching hold of Mr. Wil 
 ton's arm, and looking into his face with wild earnestness. 
 " He never wrote to me never offered forgiveness. Some 
 one has told you falsely." 
 
 " But I saw the letter. He wrote it in my house, at my 
 own table, with my own pen and ink. I read every word 
 f it, and it was worthy of a repenting father's heart." 
 
 "You read it!" exclaimed Eoline, turning pale as the 
 moonlight. " I never received it never." 
 
 She was so much agitated, that Mr. Wilton, fearing she 
 would attract the notice of the curious and the inquisitive, 
 proposed adjourning to the cabin occupied by Mrs. Hale, 
 an offer which Eoline gladly accepted, finding it impos-
 
 208 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 sible to control her excited feelings. The moment they 
 arrived at the cabin, she threw herself on the rustic bench 
 that ran under the stoop, and burst into a passion of 
 tears. 
 
 " Oh ! why did I not receive this token of pardoning 
 love 1" she cried. " How blest, how happy I might hav 
 been ! Now it is too late." 
 
 "No, Eoline let me thus address the daughter of my 
 friend. It is not too late. A moment will explain and 
 reconcile all. Most happy shall I be to assume the office 
 of peace-maker." 
 
 " How cold, how ungrateful he must deem me," she ex 
 claimed, in an agony of emotion, " to slight his proffered 
 forgiveness, to refuse the pardon that must have been 
 bought with many a bitter struggle. What an unnatural 
 monster I must have appeared in his eyes! Oh! my dear 
 father ! how happy we might all have been, had I known 
 this a little sooner !" 
 
 Her promise to St. Leon pressed with a tightening 
 stricture across her heart. Restored to her father once 
 more, his sanction would be necessary to make that pro 
 mise binding; for though she might resist the authority 
 that would force her into an unwilling wedlock, she would 
 jiever marry in opposition to a father's will, while occu 
 pying a daughter's place in his household. Restoration to 
 her home, freedom from her impulsive vows, a union asrith 
 Horace Cleveland, love, happiness, an earthly Eden all 
 beamed in radiant colors on her vision. Then the image 
 of St. Leon, despairing, dying with his hand pressed 
 upon his heart, and his thrilling glance bent on her, just as 
 she saw him, before he fell insensible at her feet in the 
 concert-room glided before her, and filled her with an 
 guish and remorse. 
 
 " My dear child," cried Mr. "Wilton, sitting by her, and 
 taking both her hands in his, for she was wringing them
 
 EOLINE J OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 209 
 
 in the conflict of her feelings, "can you not say <I will 
 arise and go to my father,' not like the returning prodigal, 
 for you have not sinned against Heaven and him, and you 
 are worthy to be called his daughter j but in the true spirit 
 of love, obedience and conciliation, and reinstate yourself 
 as the filial angel of his heart and home 1" 
 
 " Yes I will go to my father," she said " and never 
 again would I leave the guardian shades of Glenmore. I 
 will go to my father, and leave all other events in the 
 hands of a directing God. But will he receive me, after 
 my apparent ingratitude and neglect 1 Will he not close 
 his doors against me, and suffer me to drift once more on 
 the stormy waves of destiny 1" 
 
 " One simple word of explanation is all that is needed. 
 I will write, myself, to-night, and prepare the way for 
 your return. You can enclose a letter, if you wish." 
 
 " If I wish ! Oh ! how much have I to write. Yes, I will 
 go in immediately, and pour out my full and grateful heart. 
 How sweet will home seem to the wanderer \ that home 
 from which I thought myself forever exiled ! My own sweet 
 Willie I shall hold him in my arms again I shall twist 
 my fingers in his shining ringlets, and drink in living foun 
 tains of love from his rosy lips. Good Mrs. Howe faithful 
 Gatty my garden i-my green-house and the grand, ances 
 tral-looking trees!" 
 
 u Then it is not too late," said Mr. Wilton, listening to 
 this burst of natural emotion with delight, " you do love 
 home, yet." 
 
 " Love it !" exclaimed Eoline, clasping her hands in the 
 most impassioned manner, and smiling through her tears 
 " Love it ! ask the exile if he loves his native land ! And 
 now," added she, rising, "I must leave you, to write what 
 my heart aches to express. I thank you, I bless you, sir, 
 for telling me what I might never otherwise have known. 
 So many feelings rusheu upon me when you first revealed 
 83
 
 2lO EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 it, they almost overwhelmed me, and for a little while I 
 thought I had learned it too late. You will go with me, 
 and your daughter, too." 
 
 "My daughter!" repeated Mr. Wilton, sadly, "I could 
 almost envy Glenmore the joy in store for him. Nothing 
 short of a divine miracle will ever restore my poor Amelia 
 to her primeval brightness. Should you be tempted to 
 exult in the triumphs of your beauty and charms, think, 
 that had you consented to the cold union your father urged, 
 and sacrificed your affections to an unnatural coercion, you 
 might have been the wreck that she is now, for a more 
 beautiful and blooming girl never awakened parental 
 pride than she was before her ill-starred marriage." 
 
 How strangely Eoline felt to hear him talk of that cold 
 union which would now realize all her dreams of felicity ! 
 Truly, the human heart is a dark and winding labyrinth, 
 and Eoline had but lately discovered the silken clue to her 
 own. 
 
 " Your daughter does indeed look very unhappy," she 
 said, " I grieve for her." 
 
 " If she could be roused from this state of apathy," 
 said the father, "If she could be made aware of her 
 own independent existence, I should have some hopes of 
 her recovery. Even in her brightest hours, she was per 
 fectly passive, never acting from any volition of her own. 
 So gentle was she, that we never made the pressure of 
 parental authority heavier than down. After she left us, 
 an iron will weighed down upon her, with perhaps uncon 
 scious force, till it paralized the life of her mind, and 
 chilled the warmth of her heart. It was the sight of my 
 poor wilted child, and the mournful consequences of her 
 mental inertion, that reconciled your father to your 
 stronger and more independent character." 
 
 "I ought to cherish her very tenderly, then," said Eoline, 
 '' since her misfortunes have resulted in blessings to me
 
 EOLINE; OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 211 
 
 I suppose #ty father did not complain to you of my too 
 passive nature." 
 
 "No he seemed to think you were blessed with a will 
 of your own. But console yourself, Eoline you have 
 acted nobly and every true and manly heart will sa 
 Amen to the sentiment I have uttered." 
 
 Eoline sat up till past the midnight hour, writing to her 
 father. She wrote sheet after sheet, then tore them in 
 pieces, thinking they did not do justice to her feelings. 
 At last she wrote the simple words 
 
 " Father, dear father, I never received the letter giving 
 me permission to return, or it would have borne me on 
 wings to your feet. I come, ready to devote my future 
 life to your happiness. I have sown in tears, but I shal? 
 now reap in joy. Yes, my father, I come, like the dove 
 to the Ark, weary with my wanderings, to fold my wingy 
 on your breast. " Your own 
 
 EOLINE." 
 
 In one of her first letters, which she had torn, she had 
 spoken of St. Leon, but on reflection, she thought it best 
 to wait till her return, and then she intended to give her 
 father a true history of her life since their separation. 
 When St. Leon returned, he must seek her at her paternal 
 home, and obtain her father's sanction to his love. As the 
 son of a rich Louisiana planter, he might find favor in 
 Mr. Glenmore's eyes, since he had released his daughter 
 from the first conditions he had imposed upon her. 
 
 Mr. Wilton had made arrangements to follow the letter 
 in a few days, but the illness of his daughter detained bin 
 at the Springs. 
 
 " I will send you in my carriage," said he, to Eoline, 
 u for I know your yearning desire to be at home." 
 
 But Eoline could not leave the poor invalid, who clung 
 to her with an interest she manifested in no other being. 
 She was confined to her bed, and the slightest sound seemed
 
 212 J30LINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 to agonize her unsheathed nerves, but she would hold 
 Eoline's hand in hers, and drawing her down close to her 
 feverish cheek, whisper 
 
 " Sing to me you are an angel;" then she would add, 
 still more softly " that is, if you are willing." 
 
 Eoline hung over her sick couch and sung to her, in 
 a voice sweet and low as the echo of a flute, some of the 
 holy hymns her mother had taught her in her childhood. 
 With her glittering hair unbound, for Amelia had loosened 
 it from confinement, and drawn it as a veil, partially over 
 her own faded face j her black eyes gleaming mournfully 
 through the golden meshes, Eoline did resemble one of 
 those heavenly beings, sent to minister to languishing 
 humanity. All day, and day after day, she sat by the suf 
 ferer, singing to her those low warbling strains which had 
 such a soothing influence on her excited nerves, and hold 
 ing her burning hand in hers. 
 
 " It has been said by the best medical advisers whom I 
 have consulted," said Mr. Wilton, who watched with 
 intense anxiety the effect of Eoline's devotion, " that if 
 she could become interested in anything, deeply interested, 
 there would be a gleam of hope. If one electric spark 
 could be communicated to her palsied mind, she might 
 perhaps feel the glow of life stealing over her benumbed 
 faculties. Eoline, I have never seen her manifest the 
 same interest she does in you, since this leaden dullness 
 settled on her brain." 
 
 " Oh !" thought Eoline, " if I could be the means of 
 raising this poor, widowed heart to bloom again of call 
 ing back mind and feeling to those wild, lustrous eyes, how 
 I would bless my God for the gift of existence. I should 
 feel then that I had not lived in vain." 
 
 From this moment she seemed to feel that she had a 
 peculiar call to devote herself to one, who from the first 
 bid singularly attracted her. She treated her as a little
 
 EJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 213 
 
 child told her fairy tales, the treasured lore of her child 
 hood described to her, her own beautiful home, its fruits 
 and its flowers, and dwelt on the happy hours they should 
 have together in its embowering shades. 
 
 Amelia listened, and a smile glimmered on her face, 
 t was the first that had flitted over it for many a day.* 
 
 " Tell me about those beautiful things again," said she. 
 
 And Eoline, with unwearied lips, repeated the childish 
 legend, the nursery song, and the charming description 
 of her native scenes. 
 
 Mr. Wilton listened with admiring gratitude, while 
 Eoline, with patient sweetness, thus beguiled the weary 
 hours of the poor invalid, apparently forgetful of her own 
 disappointment and deferred hopes. 
 
 " I see, now," said he, "the error we have committed. 
 Her mother and myself have been too gloomy. Seeing 
 her in this sad and seemingly hopeless condition, we have 
 yielded to despondency and gloom. Instead of endeavoring 
 to rouse and animate her as we should have done, we have 
 sunk, ourselves, under the blow that crushed her intellect. 
 You have darted one ray of sunshine into the obscurity. 
 Heaven grant that it may brighten and brighten into the 
 perfect day." 
 
 This was not said in the hearing of Amelia, who began 
 to discover a faint interest in what was passing around her. 
 
 " Shall I really go with you 1" said she to Eoline. 
 " Are you willing that I should go 1" 
 
 " Willing ! I have been begging your father to let you 
 stay with me % I have a sweet little brother, but no sister; 
 and you shall be my own sister, and Willie a darling little 
 brother to us both." 
 
 " And will you sing to me there, too 1" she asked a 
 faint color stealing over her wan cheek. 
 
 "I will sing the songs you best love to hear, and I will 
 sing them to a harp with golden strings, such as my
 
 214> EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 mother used to tell me the angels played upon and we 
 will gather flowers every day, and make garlands for our 
 hair. Oh! we shall have a merry life, Amelia." 
 
 Amelia gave back an answering smile to the sweet smile 
 of Eoline. An electric spark had struck the palsied mass, 
 and life was slowly stealing through it. 
 
 "You seem to love music very much," said Eoline 5 "do 
 you not sing and play yourself?" 
 
 "I did," answered Amelia, "but, oh, I have heard such 
 music !" 
 
 She spoke with more emphasis than usual, and a shade 
 of softness stole over the wild splendor of her eye. 
 
 " Where V' asked Eoline. 
 
 " In this very place. And when I first heard you sing, 
 1 thought it seemed as if I were floating backward in a 
 dream." 
 
 " Then you have been here before 1" 
 
 "Yes! but do not speak of it. My father does not 
 know all." 
 
 Amelia put her hand to her head, with an expression 
 of perplexity and pain. 
 
 Eoline was certain that there were associations con 
 nected with music, to which Amelia's heart still responded, 
 all unstrung as it was. Perhaps they might furnish a key 
 to the mysterious paralysis of her being. 
 
 The arrival of the mail at the Springs, which 
 
 only came once during the week, always created excite 
 ment. Incidents in the great world, from which they 
 were so completely shut out, assumed an interest and im 
 portance which they did not possess to those who were ac 
 tors in the busy scene. Mr. Wilton put a packet of let 
 ters in the hand of Eoline, and retired to peruse one 
 addressed to himself. 
 
 Eoline recognized the hand-writing of St. Leon, and 
 Louisa, and opened the letters with trembling fingers.
 
 EOLINEj OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 215 
 
 The ardent Creole wrote, as he spoke, in a strain of poetic 
 rapture, and every line was glowing with the inspiration 
 of returning health. The future it was all sunshine. 
 No cloud obscured its noonday effulgence. The pen of 
 fire, which traced these impassioned sentiments, met a sur 
 face of snow on the heart of Eoline. She tried to be 
 grateful, she tried to rejoice, and she did rejoice for him, 
 and she was grateful, that warm in youth and love, he was 
 not called to " bid the world farewell." But she felt no 
 answering enthusiasm when he dwelt upon the future, 
 which was mapped out to him as an earthly elysium. St. 
 Leon, blooming in health and radiant in hope, was a very 
 different being to her from St. Leon, languishing on a sick 
 and dying bed, and appealing to her for a gleam of joy to 
 light him through the dark valley. With a suppressed 
 sigh she turned to Louisa's letter, which was a true tran 
 script of her meek and gentle spirit. As it was at least 
 twelve sheets in length, we will not attempt to unfold the 
 whole contents, but extract a passage here and there for 
 those who feel some interest in this unselfish and holy- 
 minded being. 
 
 " St. Leon," she wrote, " seems to gather strength every 
 moment from the dewy freshness and mountain elasticity 
 of our Northern atmosphere. His pallid cheek begins to 
 show the living under-current through its transparent 
 whiteness. Miss Manly continues to treat him as an in 
 valid, though he smilingly declares that he is now only an 
 honorary member of the valetudinarian club. Uncle Ben, 
 too, good, kind soul, watches him as if he were a child, 
 and will not allow him to expose himself to the evening 
 air or the noonday sun. I think St. Leon loves to be 
 petted, to use a childish expression, better than any man I 
 ever saw. Though he disclaims all right to these cher 
 ishing and preventing cares, they still please him, and his 
 heart seems overflowing with gratitude. You recollect,
 
 216 EOLINE } OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 dear Eoline, when we were speaking of Miss Manly, in an 
 hour of unreserved confidence, I said I should not be sur 
 prised if she had her weaknesses, like the rest of her sex. 
 I am certain that this proud, unbending woman this sci 
 ence-dedicated Minerva, really loves the gentle and ro 
 mantic St. Leon. She struggles to conceal it, but the 
 weakness exists. I do not think he imagines the passion 
 he has inspired, and I sincerely hope, for her sake, he never 
 will. While I love her the better for being capable of a 
 woman's tenderness, I revere her too much not to wish it 
 undiscovered. Pity would be a strange emotion for our 
 commanding Principal to awaken in any bosom. St. Leon 
 is a very interesting traveller, and suffers no beauty of na 
 ture, however minute, to pass his artist eye, unpraised by 
 his poet tongue." 
 
 " St. Leon St. Leon !" exclaimed Eoline, "nothing but 
 St. Leon ! Poor, dear Louisa is so eloquent on this one 
 theme ! I wish she would tell me something of her own 
 sweet self." 
 
 By-and-bye Louisa came to the moment when she ar 
 rived at her own modest and elm-bowered home. 
 
 " And now, dear Eoline, I will speak of mysel-f and the 
 holy joy that fills my heart on finding myself once more 
 with the mother and sisters from whom I have been so 
 long parted. Ah ! what a blessed thing it is to be loved ! 
 I am the present centre of this charming domestic circle, 
 the cynosure of this firmament of peace and love. Can 
 you imagine your humble, retiring Louisa occupying so 
 conspicuous a position 1 ? My mother is the perfect model 
 of a lovely, chastened, Christian woman. Resignation sits 
 upon her placid brow, religion beams from her mild, quiet 
 eye, while loving-kindness and tender charity breathe from 
 her gentle lips. Her happiness lies buried in the grave of 
 her husband, but she lives for the happiness of others. 
 My sisters are fair, blooming young girls, very different
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 2 17 
 
 from your pale-faced drooping friend. But you would 
 hardly know me since I have inhaled my own native air. 
 I have really gained flesh and color, and I could walk 
 twice as far as Magnolia Vale now without being weary. 
 I have done so. The other evening, they call it afternoon 
 here, just before sunset, my sisters and myself, accom 
 panied by Charles Osgood, the son of our present minister, 
 walked to Mossy Pond, one of the most beautiful sheets 
 of water ever crimsoned by - the rosy suffusion of the 
 West." 
 
 " So," thought Eoline, " dear Louisa is going to weave 
 one little silver thread in the sober web of her life 
 Charles Osgood ! Their minister's son, a minister himself 
 to be, I dare say. I always thought Louisa was born for 
 the wife of a man of God." 
 
 "I knew Charles," continued Louisa, "before I went 
 to the south. His father often exchanged with mine, on 
 the Sabbath day, and he frequently accompanied him. I 
 always thought him interesting, good and pious." 
 
 "I dare say you did, you sly, demure little Quaker," 
 interrupted Eoline, " never to say one word about this in 
 teresting Charles, while I have been pouring out heart and 
 soul into your bosom." 
 
 " But," continued the candid letter-writer, " I never 
 saw any one so much improved in all outward and inward 
 graces." 
 
 And so Louisa went on ingenuously and modestly and 
 so humbly, telling how she walked and talked with Charles s 
 the devout, the ministerial, but still the interesting and 
 most agreeable Charles, not only by the green banks of 
 Mossy Pond, but under the shade of the branching elms, 
 and stood with him in the gloom of twilight by the weep 
 ing willow that sighed over her father's grave. 
 
 "I never spoke to you of Charles," and Eoline almost 
 imagined she saw a soft blush on the paper, * because I
 
 18 EOLINE J O?., MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 never dreamed, that I, such as you know I am, ct lit 
 awaken more than a friendly interest in his heart. I can 
 not tell why I shrank from mentioning his name, unless it 
 was this feeling of resigned hopelessness. But it was re 
 turning from the grave of my father, when there was just 
 nough light lingering for me to see the mild, holy beam 
 f his eyes as they bent upon me, that he told me he had 
 Iways loved me, and dared to look forward to the time 
 when I should lighten the burden, and temper the heat of 
 his day of care. I wept because there is no language 
 but tears, for such feelings as swelled my heart almost to 
 suffocation." 
 
 " ' You weep, Louisa,' " said he. " ' Have I made you 
 unhappy by this confession V " 
 
 " ' I weep,' " answered 1, "'for my own unworthiness.' " 
 
 "And I do feel unworthy, dear Eoline, of the love of 
 so pure, so excellent, so exalted a being; I, who imagined 
 I could never inspire love in any one, to possess the per 
 fect, the undivided affection of one, worthy even of you, 
 ray noble, beautiful Eoline ! He will seek a portion of his 
 Master's vineyard, warmed by a Southern sun, and fanned 
 by a Southern breeze, so we may meet again when you 
 dwell amid the orange bowers and citron groves thafare 
 waiting to embosom you in their fragrant shades." 
 
 " Happy, happy Louisa !" cried Eoline, the letter drop 
 ping from her hand and tears glistening in her eyes, " thy 
 true humility, thy modest Christian graces, thy meek, self- 
 renouncing spirit are about to receive the greatest reward 
 earth can bestow. And yet in thy blindness, thou hast 
 envied me." 
 
 Louisa said not one word about physical weakness. She 
 expressed no misgivings for the future. She seemed strong 
 and firm in her new-born happiness. Her greatest trial 
 was the thought of leaving her mother, but her sisters 
 would fill her place, and be more to her than she had evex
 
 EOLINE; OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 219 
 
 been. The one next to herself would return with Miss 
 Manly, to take her office in the seminary. 
 
 "Farewell," said she in conclusion, "till we meet again 
 in this spiritual intercourse, which is the joy of parted 
 friends. I have described you hers, sometimes, as the rose 
 of the South, sometimes as the magnolia of your glorious 
 clime. Eoline, I trust, I know that you will be happy. 
 Surely Heaven would not vouchsafe such a prospect of feli 
 city to me, and suffer a heart like yours to be chiLed by 
 disappointment or darkened by sorrow. 
 
 " Your LOUISA.' 
 
 Eoline sat with her hands clasped over her knee, still as 
 a statue, for nearly an hour after the perusal of these let 
 ters. This was her habit in moments of strong excitement, 
 when she was alone, and no counter current came to mingle 
 with the deep and troubled waters of her soul. At length 
 she rose. 
 
 " I have forgotten poor Amelia," she said. " I fear she 
 has pined for my presence." 
 
 When she entered her room she found Mr. Wilton sitting 
 by her, with his arms around her, endeavoring to soothe 
 her, for she was in a state of unusual agitation. 
 
 " I am glad you are come," said he, in answer to 
 Eoline's inquiring glance, " though I rejoice in witnessing 
 this unwonted sensibility; I have just received the unex 
 pected intelligence of her husband's death. I did not 
 think it would affect her as it seems to have done. It 
 is true the shock is great, but there can be no heart- 
 string broken." 
 
 Amelia stretched out her arms to Eoline, who saw that 
 her glazed and unnaturally brilliant eyes were swimming 
 in tears. It was as strange a sight as dew on the burning 
 winds of the desert. 
 
 "Weep, Amelia," cried Eoline, taking the father*' 1
 
 220 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 place by her side, " shed all the tears you have been hold 
 ing back, lest others should shed them for you." 
 
 And she did weep long and freely wept till Eoline's 
 cheek and neck were wet as with rain-drops. The father 
 could not remain to witness this crisis of her malady for 
 such it seemed to him. He had so often prayed that he 
 might see the wasting fire of her eyes quenched in tears, 
 the oppression of her heart loosened by such a relieving 
 shower, that he went out hastily and sought the deepest 
 shades of the grove, where no eye but the One, which 
 pierces through the densest clouds, could witness his 
 emotion. 
 
 It would be difficult to analyze Amelia's tears. Through 
 the influence of Eoline, the fearful tension of her nerves 
 had been relaxed. And now the sudden intelligence of 
 her husband's death smote on the surface of her heart, 
 unnaturally hardened, and the long restrained waters gushed 
 forth. She had never loved him and they were not 
 therefore tears of anguish. Perhaps it was the removal 
 of the iron pressure which had been gradually crushing 
 and crushing her, -producing an insensibility that made 
 her scarcely conscious of the weight the heaving off of 
 an incumbent load, the rolling away of a rock from the 
 door of the fountain, and giving liberation to the impri 
 soned waves. 
 
 Eoline remained with her long after the paroxysm had 
 subsided, and drew from the youthful widow the history of 
 the past, which she had kept so hermetically sealed that 
 even her parents never suspected the source of her strange 
 malady. 
 
 Amelia slept that night as she had not slept for a long 
 and weary year. That copious, yet gentle shower of tears, 
 was like Summer rain on the dry and parched earth. The 
 revelation too of a bosom secret, which she had been che 
 rishing like some ill-gotten treasure, was an unspeakable
 
 EOLIflEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 221 
 
 relief to her burdened spirit. Eoline, too, had been whis 
 pering to her words of hope and comfort. Eoline had 
 said, with her voice of music and look of love, 
 
 " Amelia, you may yet be happy." 
 
 " Yes," thought Eoline, while she pressed a sleepless 
 pillow, " Louisa will be happy, and Amelia will be happy 
 and I. Oh ! thou God of the lonely night, whose mighty, 
 invisible spirit I feel brooding over the depths of mine, if 
 Thou hast in Thy mystery reserved any unknown joy for 
 me, teach me to wait, patiently to wait, till the day-star 
 shall dawn upon the gloom. 
 
 The morning found Amelia so softened, so subdued, so 
 tranquil, that her father embraced her with speechless 
 gratitude. 
 
 " We can commence our journey to-morrow," said he, 
 to Eoline, " 1 long to see my friend. We must rejoice 
 together." 
 
 " I wish my mother were with us," cried Amelia, in a 
 soft, natural tone of voice. She seemed for days previous 
 to have forgotten her mother's existence. 
 
 "We shall soon be with her," replied her father, 
 " after we have restored Eoline to her father's arms." 
 
 " She must meet us at Glenmore Place cried Eoline, 
 " for it will be long before I shall give up Amelia, my 
 new-found friend and adopted sister." 
 
 Then Eoline told her plans for the future how Mr. 
 Wilton was to leave Amelia with her, while he went and 
 brought her mother to form one of their domestic party 
 and how Amelia was to remain with her till the brigh 
 roses of her youth bloomed again upon her cheeks. Mr. 
 Wilton smiled gratefully on the young enthusiast, and 
 blest the Providence which had brought her, a beam of 
 light and comfort, into their darkened pathway. 
 
 Towards evening, Eoline, who had several favorite 
 haunts around the springs, and wished to visit them for
 
 222 EOLINE J OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 the last time, stole out through the broad chestnut trees 
 behind her cabin, that she might enjoy the pleasure of a 
 lonely ramble. There was a fountain not very far from 
 the way-side, gushing out in the midst of such coolness 
 and depth of shade, it diffused around the freshness and 
 verdure of an eternal spring. Here she loved to sit on 
 an old gray rock, half covered with moss, and imagine the 
 green closure one of those silent homes which Horace had 
 described to her, and like him, she felt waves of deep and 
 solemn thought rolling in upon her soul. The fountain 
 murmuring in the -solitude was a pensive yet earnest 
 teacher of wisdom and godly love, and the soft whisper 
 of the wind through the trees was an echo to its ac 
 cents and far down in her own heart was a deeper echo 
 still. 
 
 In returning, she was obliged to walk a while in the 
 public road. She heard the rumbling of carriage-wheels 
 behind no unusual sound where life seemed a locomo 
 tive engine. A young silvery voice reached her ears, 
 that made her blood give a quicker bound in her veins. 
 She turned round and saw a noble pair of bays, fleaked 
 with the foam of exercise. She knew their stately step- 
 pings well. She knew, too, the coal-black face gleaming 
 with ivory, shining down upon he* from the coachman's 
 seat. There was a large, fine-looking man seated in the 
 carriage ; she knew him, too ; and that young, silvery 
 voice again it thrilled her very soul 
 
 "Ela, sister Ela," it cried. It was the music of the 
 opening Heavens to her ears. The carriage stopped the 
 steps were let down, and Eoline sprang in at the same 
 moment. Willie jumped into his sister's arms who, 
 clasping her precious burden, knelt at her father's feet. 
 The proud master of Glenmore bent down ai d folded his 
 banished daughter in his arms.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A few days after the scene which formed the closing in 
 cident of our last chapter, the party were on their home 
 ward way. Eoline had taken an affectionate farewell of 
 her kind friend, Mrs. Hale, whom she burdened with mes 
 sages of love and gratitude to the excellent Doctor^ and 
 then every thought was directed towards Glenmore. She 
 could have exclaimed, inverting the feelings of the sad 
 exile of Erin. 
 
 " Now once again in the green sunny bowers, 
 Where my father has lived, shall I spend the sweet hours, 
 And cover my harp with the wild woven flowers, 
 While I sing the wild anthems of joy and of praise." 
 
 One unexpected incident in their journey must be re 
 corded. As they were travelling through the woods, ap 
 parently far from any habitation, something gave way in 
 the carriage, which obliged them all to descend. 
 
 " There must be a dwelling near, for I see a vegetable 
 garden ahead of us," said Mr. Glenmore. 
 
 "And I see a chimney peeping through the trees," cried 
 Willie, standing on tip-toe. 
 
 As Mr. Wilton's carriage was far behind them, Eoline 
 proposed walking on with Willie to the house, while her 
 father consulted with the coachman about the best means 
 of repairing the injury the carriage had sustained. Lightly 
 Eoline ran on, holding her beautiful little brother by the 
 hand, both glad to exchange the rolling motion oi the 
 close carriage for free exercise in the open air. 
 
 A large, double log cabin emerged from the trees as they 
 approached. A hospitable-looking bucket, with a nice 
 
 (223)
 
 224 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 white gourd suspended over it, attracted the eyes of the 
 thirsty Willie. But Eoline was attracted still more 
 strongly by a figure standing in the door, gazing on the 
 approaching strangers. It was a stout coarse-looking girl, 
 in a blue-checked bib apron, with short, sandy hair, that 
 fell over her eyes like a thick, flaxen fringe, holding in her 
 hand a long green pickle, whose truncated end exhibited 
 the print of her incisors. 
 
 "La, sus!" she exclaimed, rushing to the gate, to the 
 astonishment and affright of Willie, "if it ain't Miss Eo- 
 iine. Goodness me ! how came you here 1 I'm mighty 
 glad to see you. Aunt Jerusha !" she cried, running back 
 to the door, and calling out from the top of her lungs 
 "Aunt Jerusha, come here. Here's Miss Eoline, my mu 
 sic-teacher, that learned me how to play. My ma's sick," 
 she added, " and my pa's out in the cotton field." 
 
 "Don't go in, Ela," said Willie, in a low voice, "she's 
 too ugly." 
 
 " But you want some water, Willie, and we will be very 
 tired before the carriage is mended." 
 
 By this time a very short, fat woman, with a thick cap 
 on the top of her head, and a long pipe in her mouth, 
 came to the door, obedient to Jerusha's summons. She 
 put one hand up over her eyes, for the sun was shining 
 brilliantly, and scanned the figures, near which Jerusha 
 now stood, in a fever of delight. 
 
 " Walk in," she cried with a strong nasal twang, "walk 
 in, and make yourselves at home I'm powerful glad to see 
 you, for I've hearn my niece tell a heap about you, and 
 t'other ladies up at the sinimenary." 
 
 Jerusha fairly dragged Eoline into the house, in her im 
 patience, and attempted to take Willie's hand, also, but 
 he resisted her advances with such unconquerable disgust, 
 Eoline feared her feelings would be hurt. She seemed, 
 however, too much exciterl to notice it much, and the mo-
 
 EOLINE j OE MAGNOLIA VALE. 225 
 
 ment her guests were seated in the split-bottomed chairs 
 which adorned the parlor and sitting-room, she rm into 
 her mother's chamber, to tell her that her music-teacher 
 was come, with the prettiest little boy she ever sot eyes 
 on. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Jacob Spotts was confined to her bed with 
 the fever and ague, so she could not rise to do the honors 
 of hospitality as she would gladly have done. 
 
 Jerusha insisted that Eoline should go in and see her 
 ma, but she declined on the plea of great haste, as she 
 expected the carriage every moment. 
 
 " Go and have something got for the young lady and the 
 little boy to eat," said aunt Jerusha ; and though Eoline 
 protested they were not hungry, and could not eat, having 
 dined very late, a black woman came and spread a table 
 with ginger-cakes, cheese and pickles, of which she was 
 compelled to taste, fearing to offend their well-meant, 
 though oppressive hospitality. 
 
 " The tobacco smoke makes me sick, Ela," cried Willie, 
 " please come away." 
 
 " Does it 1" exclaimed Aunt Jerusha, " well, I'll lay down 
 my old pipe. It's a mighty bad habit, I know. You don't 
 smoke, honey 1 ?" asked she of Eoline, who shrank with 
 horror, even from the question. " That's right ! 'twould 
 spoil your pretty skin. You've got a powerful fair skin, 
 arid so's he. I can't make Jerusha keep her bonnet on, 
 no how in the world, and she gets as black as a nigger. 
 She did whiten up mightily while she was at the sinime- 
 nary, and improved wonderfully. I never did see anybody 
 larn faster for the time being, in all the days of my life 
 Sister Spotts is mightily pleased about it, and so we all are. 
 I'm for having children taught manners, 'fore all other 
 sorts of laming, and as I'm going to leave my property to 
 my niece, I mean she shall have a good eddication to ge> 
 upon. She's desperate smart Jerush is." 
 84
 
 226 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 "No, I ain't, aunt, no such thing," said Jerusha, hang 
 ing her head, " it makes me shamed to hear you talk so. 
 If you'd seen the gals at Miss Manly's, how smart they 
 are, you wouldn't think me fit to parch corn for 'em. Bu* 
 1 mean to go back and get ahead of 'em yet." 
 
 " That's right, Jerusha. Be ambitious, and you cannot 
 fail to improve," cried Eoline, rising to go. She feared 
 to have her father find her there, for she knew how his 
 proud spirit would chafe to hear such a girl as Jerusha 
 address her familiarly as her teacher. " I know the car 
 riage must be ready we will go and meet it." 
 
 But the carriage was already at the door, the soft sand 
 over which it rolled, giving no sound to indicate its 
 approach. 
 
 Eoline, taking a hasty but polite leave of Aunt Jerusha, 
 who tried hard to detain her, followed the flying steps 
 of Willie, and bounded into the carriage. But niece Jerusha 
 was not to be put off with a French leave. Unintimidated 
 by the grand and imposing appearance of Mr. Glenmore, 
 ehe pursued Eoline to the steps, which the footman was 
 folding up. asking her when she was going back to Miss 
 Manly's, telling her she must be sure to come that way, 
 and then her ma would be well, and could see her. 
 
 " Drive on," said Mr. Glenmore, in a commanding voice, 
 and the horses started with haughty speed. 
 
 "I've got a piano coming!" hallooed Jerusha, after 
 them. "I'm going to practice hard what you learned 
 me. I can most play a tune." 
 
 Mr. Glenmore frowned darkly. 
 
 " I'm astonished, Eoline," said he " at your allowing 
 uch vulgar familiarity. If such are the associations you 
 have been forming, you have, indeed, disgraced your family 
 forever." 
 
 " She called sister her teacher all the time," said Willie, 
 mdigriantly, " that big, ugly girl. What did she mean!"
 
 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 227 
 
 " It means," cried Mr. Glenmore, wrathfully, " that the 
 name of Miss Eoline Glenmore will be blazoned all over 
 the country as the teacher of such rough, ill-bred hoosiers 
 as this choice and rare specimen of humanity. That's 
 what it means V 
 
 Eoline was truly distressed at this unfortunate incident, 
 for it gave her father wrong impressions of the beings 
 with whom she had been associated. It disturbed her 
 new-born serenity, and threatened to renew her father's 
 anger against her, at a moment when he seemed over 
 flowing with parental affection. She did not answer, but 
 looked out of the carriage window, through her fast-gather 
 ing tears. 
 
 "Don't cry, Ela," said Willie, peeping anxiously in her 
 face, " you couldn't help it." 
 
 They rode on silently for a time, for Eoline could not 
 speak, and Mr. Glenmore was occupied in a strong inward 
 strife with his bosom sin. 
 
 " Foolish child !" said he at length, putting his arm ro <nd 
 Eoline, and drawing her towards him, "when we once 
 reach home, all will be well !" 
 
 And so it was well, when the large gate of the avenue 
 swung back on its massy hinges, and the magnificent forest 
 trees stretched out their hundred arms in the breeze, as if 
 to welcome the exile to her home. The little negroes 
 were perched up on the top of the white fence, like so 
 many black crows, grinning their welcome, and Gatty 
 stood upon the marble steps, clapping her hands, her teeth 
 gleaming large and white as the ivory keys of a piano 
 while a little farther back appeared the matronly counte 
 nance of Mrs. Howe, beaming with delight. 
 
 "Mrs. Howe, Gatty!" cried Willie, putting his cherub 
 face out of the window, " we've got her we've brought 
 her back, and we'll never let her go any more !" 
 
 Eoline was at first so agitated that her father was obliged
 
 S28 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 to lift her from the carriage, but she was soon flying all 
 over the house, wishing she were a Brierius, that she might 
 embrace the whole household, furniture and all, in her 
 myriad arms. Nothing was said of her strange departure, 
 for this was an interdicted subject. She was greeted as if 
 
 he had been gone on a long visit, and she began herself 
 to feel that the past might be a dream. By the time Mr. 
 Wilton and Amelia arrived, she was ready to receive them 
 with a composed and smiling countenance. 
 
 According to the arrangement made at the Springs, Mr. 
 Wilton departed the next day for his wife, who soon 
 joined, with him, the family party at Glenmore. It was 
 astonishing with what rapidity Amelia recovered the van 
 ished beauty of her youth. Her eyes no longer glared 
 with melancholy brilliancy, but beamed with a soft ra 
 diance that reminded Eoline of St. Leon's lustrous orbs. 
 Her thin, pale cheek became round and fair, and a beau 
 tiful color played hide-and-go-seek on its surface, as if 
 afraid of remaining all the time, when it had been so long 
 absent. 
 
 Eoline beheld her renovating charms with rapture. 
 Hers had been the magic power which had given birth to 
 this new creation, and she looked upon her dawning color 
 and awakening loveliness, as the painter does upon the 
 canvas, living and glowing under his master hand. She 
 had sent for her harp and guitar, and for a while she 
 played and sung without asking for a requital, but gradu 
 ally she induced Amelia to seat herself at the piano, then 
 
 o sing some sweet, simple air, till, like a child learning to 
 play, she recalled all the knowledge of music, and all the 
 taste for which she had once been distinguished. Thus oc 
 cupied in benevolent and hospitable cares, Eoline had not 
 time to brood ove: her own feelings. Sometimes, when 
 she caught a glimpse of the lordly twin-mansion which 
 had had such an influence on hei destiny, she would sigh
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 229 
 
 and turn away her head, then she would look hack with a 
 smile and a blush, then sigh again, as memory effaced the 
 illusions of hope. She had written to St. Leon and Lou 
 isa, and the time was drawing near when she might look 
 for the return of the former. She had at first intended to 
 tell her father the history of St. Leon, but lately she de 
 cided it would be better to await his arrival, and see what 
 impression was made by the interesting Creole. 
 
 One morning Eoline was reading a journal of the day, 
 when her eye fell upon a name that quickened every pul 
 sation of her being. There was the record of a thrilling 
 incident a child had fallen into a creek, where the waters 
 were deepest and the current strongest. The distracted 
 mother stood upon the bank, calling upon God and man 
 for aid, while she was forcibly held back from the watery 
 brink ; when the crowd divided, and a young man, throw 
 ing his hat and coat upon the bank as he flew along, 
 plunged in and rescued the drowning boy, though he was 
 thrice borne down the current himself in the struggle. 
 "This young man," continued the journal, "has lately 
 been electrifying the community by a display of eloquence 
 perfectly unrivalled. Not the florid and artificial de 
 clamation so popular and fashionable, but the eloquence 
 of deep, concentrated thought, and powerful ratiocination, 
 warmed and illumined by flashes of the most brilliant 
 genius. He is a young member of the bar, and bids fair 
 to win the highest honors of his profession. His name is 
 Horace Cleveland." 
 
 Eoline's spirit glowed within her at this testimony to 
 Horace's worth and fame. He had been true to his pro 
 mise. He was carrying out the noble, philanthropical prin 
 ciples which he declared should be the guide of his life. 
 She imagined she beheld him buffeting the angry waves at 
 the cry of drowning innocence, rising above them, with 
 pallid cheeks and dripping locks, bearing his rescued trea
 
 230 EOLINEJ OR, MA.GNOLIA VALE. 
 
 sure to the feet of the distracted mother. She imagined, 
 too she heard him addressing the listening throng; that 
 she was borne on that strong tide of eloquence, on whose 
 rushing current so many souls had been drifted by the breath 
 of an overmastering will. 
 
 " You seem interested, Eoline," said her father, watching 
 her varying countenance. 
 
 "I am glad to see that Horace Cleveland has distin 
 guished himself," she replied, without looking up. " Shall 
 I read you this passage 1" 
 
 " I have read it," said he. " I am astonished that you 
 manifest any interest or pride in his success or reputation. 
 I thought it a matter of perfect indifference to you." 
 
 " He has my best wishes and highest esteem !" cried 
 she, laying down the paper. " I cannot be unjust to his 
 merits." 
 
 " He is expected at home very soon," said Mr. Glenmore. 
 "I should not be surprised if Wilton's daughter secured 
 a treasure mine thought it beneath her ambition to win. 
 His father seems pleased with the idea." 
 
 Eoline started, and the color faded from her cheek. 
 Amelia was now very beautiful, and there might be a 
 charm in her passive sweetness and winning gentleness, 
 irresistible to the high-souled Horace Cleveland. But the 
 pang passed away instantaneously. She judged Horace 
 by herself, and believed not only in the steadfastness of his 
 principles, but the duration of his attachment. St. Leon 
 might change, but Horace never. 
 
 It was that very evening, when they were gathered 
 round the first autumnal fire of the season, attracted more 
 by its brightness than its warmth, for the air was still genial 
 abroad, a stranger was announced, and St. Leon entered. 
 Eoline advanced to greet him, with an agitation and vary 
 ing color, that might well have passed for the timid con 
 sciousness of love. Her hand trembled in the ardent
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 231 
 
 pressure of his, and her voice slightly faltered as she intro 
 duced him to her father. She felt that the crisis of her 
 destiny was at hand. Mr. Glenmore, seeing a remarkably 
 handsome and aristocratic looking young gentleman, bear 
 ing, too, the well-sounding name of St. Leon^eceived him 
 with great urbanity, and began to introduce him to hi 
 friends. 
 
 Mr. Wilton, Mr. St. Leon Mrs. Lovell, a daughter of 
 Mr. Wilton. 
 
 Amelia, who had risen, sunk back upon her seat, and 
 averted her head but St. Leon, who had caught a glimpse 
 of her countenance as he approached, turned very pale, 
 and looked at Eoline, with something of that glance of 
 anguish he had bent upon her in the concert-room. Eoline 
 was alarmed, and for one moment all her self-possession 
 left her. An invisible bell rang in her ears, and a darkness 
 came over her sight. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wilton looked anxiously at Amelia, who 
 maintained her singular attitude. So completely was her 
 face averted, one could see nothing but the raven tresses 
 of her glossy hair, with just a glimpse of her marble 
 cheek. 
 
 " You do not seem well, Amelia," said her mother. 
 " You had better retire with me." 
 
 As Mrs. Wilton thus addressed Amelia, Eoline inquired 
 of St. Leon after Louisa, Miss Manly and Uncle Ben. 
 She wished to divert his attention from Amelia, while she 
 quitted the room. As the youthful widow in her sable 
 weeds, that set off with a deadly contrast her now colorles 
 complexion passed out, leaning on her mother's arm, sho 
 gave one glance at St. Leon, and a crimson tide imme 
 diately flooded her face and neck. St. Leon colored, too, 
 and cast his eyes on the floor. Mr. Glenmore and his 
 friend fell into an earnest conversation on some exciting 
 topic of the day, though the thoughts of the latter often
 
 232 OLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 wandered, thinking of the singular and apparently cause 
 less agitation of his daughter. St. Leon drew near Eoline. 
 He gazed upon her with a dark and troubled countenance. 
 
 "Cannot I see you alone, Eoline, for a few moments'!" 
 said he, in a low voice. " After such an absence, it is mad- 
 ess to meet you thus. Are you afraid of the night air 1" 
 
 "No; but it may be dangerous to you; or is your 
 health so perfectly established, that you dare to forget 
 yourself." 
 
 " I am well, perfectly well, now that is, I was an hour 
 ago. Any sudden agitation still affects me. Will you 
 walk with me in the piazza 1 The moon is just rising." 
 
 Eoline hesitated a moment, then led the way to the 
 portico, where the argent light of the rising moon was 
 flowing in through the lofty colonnade. They were alone, 
 they, who had parted as betrothed lovers, and St. Leon, 
 throwing his arms around her, exclaimed, 
 
 " Eoline, I live, and live for you." 
 
 "'There is another who has prior claims to mine, St. 
 Leon," said she, withdrawing from hit embrace, " and that 
 you know full well." 
 
 "There is none," he cried, passionately, "there can be 
 none. I have never loved any one but you. I do not 
 call a boyish fancy love. How came she here to poison 
 your mind and fill it with doubts of my constancy to you 1 
 I never loved her. It was but a passing fancy, and that 
 was all." 
 
 " Let us walk," said Eoline, taking his arm, with a slight 
 hiver. 
 
 " Are you cold, Eoline 1" 
 
 "No, there is something more chilly than the night- 
 breeze, and that is, want of faith in those whom we have 
 once trusted and honored." 
 
 " Eoline, can you, do you really doubt my love 1" 
 
 " No, St. Leon, I know that you love me ; but I grieve
 
 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 233 
 
 to hear you say that you never loved her, who has kept 
 her faith in heart to you, even to the unthroning of her 
 reason." 
 
 u She is married," replied St. Leon, bitterly. " That is 
 a strange way of keeping her faith." 
 
 " She married according to the will of her parents, be 
 cause, believing herself forsaken and forgotten, her palsied 
 heart submitted itself passively to the wishes of others. 
 For more than a year she has lived a frozen life, feeling 
 and intellect locked up, and inaccessible to affection or 
 reason, wearing an iron yoke with the meekness of a 
 saint, and the endurance of a martyr. Her friends have 
 never suspected the secret of her heart. It was the night 
 that brought her the tidings that the chains which bound 
 her were broken, for they were chains, and galling ones, 
 that the sealed fountain of her feelings overflowed, and 
 she revealed to me all she had so long concealed from the 
 world. In the very scenes where you wooed and won her 
 young and trusting heart, St. Leon " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! Eoline, are you going to make me 
 insane, thus calmly presenting another's claims, as if you 
 intended to throw me from you. What a meeting after 
 months of absence ! How cold, how cruel, how madden 
 ing you are." 
 
 Eoline raised her deep, blue eye to his, in which gleams 
 of passion w r ere sparkling, like the flashing of warring 
 weapons. The brightening moonlight enveloped them 
 both. She laid her hand gently on his arm, and in tones-, 
 soft and long, she related to him all she knew of Amelia, 
 and all she had revealed of herself. It was a simple story, 
 and may be told in few words. St. Leon had met 
 
 Amelia more than two years ago at the Springs. 
 
 She was under the protection of a female friend who, en 
 grossed herself with the gaities of the scene, took little 
 thought of the young girl just emancipated from the re-
 
 234 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 straints of school, and perfectly "ignorant of" the ways 
 of the world, as well as of the mysteries of her own 
 heart. It was there she met St. Leon, whose charming 
 voice and personal attractions completely fascinated her 
 juvenile imagination. Charmed with her beauty and sim- 
 licity, he did breathe into her ear " many a vow of love 
 and ne'er a true one," for when they parted, he for his 
 Louisianian home, and she for the retirement of hers, he 
 thought of this short episode in his life as a pleasant 
 dream, a boyish fancy, as he had told Eoline ; she lived 
 on its remembrances till the powers of her mind seemed 
 consumed, and then it was fed by the life-blood of her 
 heart. It was the hope which Eoline had infused into her 
 spirit that St. Leon would return to her, when made 
 aware of her broken shackles, which had called back the 
 life-blood to her heart, and the love-light to her eye. 
 
 "Since I have learned all this, St. Leon," continued 
 Eoline, as they slowly pursued their moonlight walk, now 
 in silver and now in shadow, as they passed the long massy 
 row of pillars that intercepted the night-rays ; " I have 
 resolved to restore to her, if possible, the love which 
 should be hers, as the price of her sufferings and her faith. 
 I could forgive the levity which tampered with her young 
 affections, unthinking of the ruin it involved but I could 
 not, would not forgive the coldness, the cruelty, and wanton 
 injustice, which, knowing the consequences, would doom 
 their victim to irremediable woe." 
 
 She paused she felt the quick, nervous shudders run 
 ning through St. Leon's frame, and she pitied the agony 
 he was enduring. 
 
 'You have never loved me, .Eoline," he cried, "never. 
 You would have some little mercy, you would find some 
 extenuation for a youthful indiscretion. You would not 
 stab me with such a serene countenance. Even the 
 surgeon when he cuts into the quivering flesh, looks the
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 235 
 
 pity he does not express. Eoline, you have deceived me 
 for you never could have loved me." 
 
 " I have never deceived you, St. Leon," she replied, with 
 
 quivering lip. "Recall our past intercourse and ask 
 yourself if I have not been no" added she with a sigh 
 "I have not always been perfectly sincere; but I hav 
 never made professions which 1 did not feel. I have always 
 felt that there was a want of congeniality in our charac 
 ters, which would one day force itself on your conviction. 
 You recollect, I doubt not, the evening of the rehearsal, 
 when the thunder-storm darkened the Heavens, that I told 
 you I loved the war of elements because it was grand and 
 powerful; that it was my nature to look up and so it is. 
 You felt then I saw it in your countenance that there 
 was a want of sympathy between us. Amelia resembles 
 you. She is more gentle and yielding than I am St. Leon, 
 she is beautiful and good, and loves you with a love 'pass 
 ing the love of woman.' ' ; 
 
 " Yes, I remember that night I remember it well," 
 exclaimed St. Leon, mournfully, " I saw that you des 
 pised me despised the weakness which I could not mas 
 ter." 
 
 " No, St. Leon, you wrong me there. I did not despise, 
 but I pitied and the man I love must be above my 
 pity." 
 
 She spoke involuntarily, but St. Leon felt her words to 
 his heart's core. Shaking himself free from the arm that 
 was locked in his, he leaned back against one of the tall 
 pillars in an attitude of defiance 
 
 " I ask not your pity I ask not your love. Soar up to 
 the highest Heavens if you will, triumph and look down 
 upon me from your dazzling height. You say it is your 
 nature to look up but methinks," he added, in a tone of 
 bitter sarcasm, "you are prone to look down on all." 
 
 "Be as unjust as you please to me, think me co'd, proud,
 
 236 EOLINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE 
 
 even insolent if you will but St. Leon, once again, I im 
 plore you, be just to yourself, be just to Amelia. I appeal 
 to your high sense of honor, to the magnanimity now latent 
 in your bosom, by all that is dear to the heart of man, to 
 reflect on all I have said to-night. We had better part 
 now. You are excited, you must be weary from your 
 journey and above all, I do not wish you to act from 
 impulse, but principle. Come to us to-morrow, trying to 
 forget all that passed at Magnolia Vale. Look upon Amelia 
 and myself both as friends, for she is still your friend. No 
 thought of bitterness or resentment mingles with her pure 
 and gentle feelings. She has never blamed you in words 
 but if you had seen her, as I first did, you would have 
 mourned over the wreck of so much beauty and sweetness. 
 Will you not come in 1 The cold mist is stealing over the 
 valley, and I begin to feel its chillness. You, too, must 
 remember you have been an invalid." 
 
 " No, I cannot go in. Forgive me if I have said anything 
 passionate or unjust. I feel only too deeply, too bitterly 
 my own unworthiness. I am but too conscious of the gulf 
 that separates me from you." 
 
 " We shall be better friends than we have ever been 
 before," said Eoline. "I am grieved if I have given you 
 pain. If! I know I have, but I have not done it in wan 
 tonness, nor have you suffered alone. Come to us in the 
 morning. Will you not promise 1 Then indeed I fear 
 your are angry." 
 
 " I cannot promise, for there is such a whirlwind within 
 but believe me, that I am not angry. I feel too crushed, 
 too wretched, too self-abased to be angry." 
 
 " Your best, your truest happiness will be born of that 
 self abasement, St. Leon," said she,' extending her hand in 
 parting. 
 
 St. Leon, as he turned back to gaze upon her, standing 
 tair ana still in the moonlight, saw a tear sparkling in
 
 EOLINE, OB, MAGNOLIA VALE 237 
 
 her eye and hot scalding drops came blinding into his 
 own. 
 
 St Leon did not come in the morning, nor during the 
 day 5 and Eoline trembled at the thought that her persua 
 sions had been unavailing. She could not bear to think of 
 him as a cold, unrepenting deceiver. She had relied on 
 the pliant weakness of his character, to bend to the right, 
 after the first storm of passion had subsided. She watched 
 with painful interest the mutable countenance of Amelia. 
 Every entering step made her start and change color, then 
 she would sink into the sad and dreary abstraction from 
 which she had been so lately roused. 
 
 But with the evening St. Leon came, looking very pale 
 and sad, but comparatively calm. Eoline, true to the course 
 she had marked out for herself, treated him with frankness 
 and cordiality. She asked him to sing with her the songs they 
 had sung in Magnolia Vale, subduing her own magnificent 
 voice, that the ear might dwell alone on his. She placed 
 the lights so that they might shine with softened lustre on 
 Amelia, who had drawn back as far as possible from sight, 
 that she might listen, herself unseen. Without being aware 
 of the fact, Eoline selected an air which St. Leon had 
 sung, the first time he had ever met Amelia. She remem 
 bered it but too well, and as those sweet, enchanting notes 
 which had sunk so deep on her memory, again stole on her 
 ear, breathing the same pensive, loving words, the crimson 
 tide cf emotion ebbed and flowed again and again from 
 her heart to her cheeks^ from her cheeks to her heart. 
 The lapse of time was forgotten. She was again in th 
 morning freshness of life, drinking in strains that seemed 
 to her wafted from the world of angels. Forgetting her 
 self, she looked up, and met his sad, earnest gaze. It had 
 upon her the effect of fascination. She did not suffer her 
 eyes to fall, but looked for a moment steadfastly upon him 
 He read in that glance the history of her life, all her suf
 
 238 EOLINE J OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 ferings, and all her love. Never had he met such a look 
 from Eoline. Never had her eyes thus melted in the 
 beams of his. It was but too true, that Eoline had never 
 loved him. 
 
 Thus passed evening after evening, and thus day after 
 day he came. Eoline found a thousand things to do she 
 had never thought of before, that called her from her 
 room, so that St. Leon and Amelia were often left toge 
 ther. She began, too, to have a slight cold, impercep 
 tible to others, but which made it an exertion for her to 
 sing, and Amelia was obliged to supply her place in the 
 duets with St. Leon. Indeed, it was astonishing how 
 many of " the ills which flesh is heir to" fell simulta 
 neously to the lot of Eoline. It wearied her to take long 
 walks, and sometimes when the trio had started on some 
 romantic excursion, in the beautiful surroundings of the 
 twin-villas, she would declare herself overcome with sudden 
 fatigue, and return, directing them into many a winding 
 path and shady dell. St. Leon understood it all, but while 
 he chafed and struggle^, he bent to the influence of her 
 stronger, nobler will, and his wounded vanity, bleeding 
 from the consciousness that she not only had the strength, 
 but the wish to transfer him to another, found healing 
 and balm in Amelia's undying love. And still more, 
 for we would do full justice to his character, all his bet 
 ter feelings had been roused in his interview with Eoline, 
 when she so eloquently advocated the cause of her injured 
 friend. She had appealed to his honor and his magnani 
 mity, and had not appealed in vain. He resolved to make 
 himself worthy of her esteem, and when he began to pay 
 those attentions to Amelia it seemed impossible to avoid, 
 he thought more of exalting himself in the estimation of 
 Eeline, than of making Amelia happy. But St. Leon, as 
 Louisa had said m her letter, was fond of being petted, of 
 feeling that he was beloved. Eoline's coldness chil" 4
 
 EOLIflEJ OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 239 
 
 him, Amelia's constancy and devotion flattered and soothed 
 him. Amelia was a true child of earth, a fond, loving, suf 
 fering, forgiving woman Eoline, a daughter of the sun, 
 enshrined in a radiant sphere of light, far off, inaccessible 
 to him. We give St. Leon's impressions, not our own. 
 Eoline was capable of a depth and strength of attachment, 
 of a generous, self-sacrificing love, which Amelia's passive 
 nature and morbid sensibility could not fathom. For the 
 mind and heart do correspond, and when both are strong 
 and pure, they approach near that arch-angelic nature, 
 which is said to burn with Love before the throne of God 
 by night and by day no, not night, for there is no night 
 to the long day of eternity.. 
 
 The morning arrived when the Wilton family were to 
 turn their faces homeward. St. Leon was to accoiupany 
 them on horseback. During the bustle of preparation, St. 
 Leon beheld Eoline a few minutes alone. She did not 
 avoid the interview, for her mission was accomplished, her 
 desire fulfilled. 
 
 " I told you we should be drawn nearer than ever to each 
 other," she said with a warmth of manner she had never 
 before manifested to him. " You now possess my fullest 
 esteem, my sisterly affection, my heart-felt gratitude. Yes! 
 gratitude, St. Leon, for having sacrificed your own feelings 
 for the happiness of another. I have seen your struggles, 
 and glory in your triumph. You will be happy, for you 
 have acted rightly, justly. You will be happy, for you 
 are beloved as your exacting nature requires. Amelia is a 
 tropic rose, far more fitting to bloom in your orange bowers 
 than I am. Cherish her tenderly, for she could not bear 
 neglect. Let her always have the first place in your heart, 
 but remember, / must always claim the second. 
 
 " Yes," said St. Leon, as he pressed for the last time 
 the hand of Eoline, " I now love Amelia for your sake, 
 but I must ever adore and worship you."
 
 240 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " I owe my happiness to you," whispered Amelia, when 
 she hung round Eoline's neck in parting. " I have no 
 words to thank you, but I bless you, Eoline, and shall for 
 ever bless you." 
 
 " To your cherishing cares I owe my daughter's resto 
 ration from a state far worse than death, to health and 
 happiness," cried Mr. Wilton, and his deep-toned voice 
 faltered with emotion. "In every prayer to Almighty 
 God, we shall remember you." 
 
 Mrs. Wilton uttered the same sentiments, while clasping 
 her in a maternal embrace. Thus hallowed by blessings, 
 Eoline ought to have been happy, and she was for awhile, 
 but there soon came a vacuum, which no domestic duties 
 or joys could fill. The barrier to her union with Horace 
 Cleveland was now removed, but were his feelings un 
 changed 1 Her father had told her that he was expected 
 at his home, and then he would learn that she was free. 
 But his return was indefinitely postponed, and having 
 learned one lesson of the inconstancy of man, not all her 
 faith in the immutability of his character could prevent 
 the misgivings that entered her heart, and cast a dejected 
 and languid expression over her naturally beaming coun 
 tenance. 
 
 " Well, Eoline," said her father, folding his gray wrap 
 per closely round him, and stretching out his embroidered 
 slippers, " you need fear no more persecution on account 
 of Horace Cleveland. It seems the icy heart you could 
 not thaw is melted at last. I confess I should like to see 
 the veni vidi vici lady, who has achieved such a miracle." 
 
 " Is he going to be married 1" asked she, suppressing all 
 outward emotion, but with a deadly, sinking sensation 
 within. 
 
 u I supnose so," replied Mr. Glenmore, sarcastically ; 
 "for marriage usually follows love, when fortune favors 
 nd friends approve. Mr. Cleveland was anxious to
 
 EOLINS ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 241 
 
 promote a union between him and the beautiful young 
 widow, who is left with a splendid jointure, and wrote to 
 him on the subject. He answered that his affections were 
 engaged to another, and nothing would induce him to give 
 his hand without his heart. He did not mention the lady's 
 name, but some one who had called at Mr. Cleveland's, 
 who had passed through the town where Horace resides, 
 told who she was, and says she is a great heiress a 
 relative of the child whom he rescued from drowning 
 Eoline ! what is the matter] You are as pale as ashes." 
 
 " It is too warm," said she, drawing her chair back, so 
 that her father could not see her face. " Go on." 
 
 " I have nothing more to say, only this, that 1 think 
 you have been the greatest fool in the universe, to throw 
 away a match unequalled in every respect, a match that 
 would have bound two families, unrivalled in wealth and 
 standing, indissolubly together, a match, on which I had 
 set my heart and will, before your eyes beheld the light of 
 the sun. 1 have really never given up hope till now. I 
 always thought the time would come, when you would 
 both see your folly and repent." 
 
 " It is in vain, father !" exclaimed Eoline. She spoke 
 in such a tone of anguish, that her father was touched. 
 He thought it was caused by his displeasure, and as he had 
 promised her unconditional forgiveness for the past, it was 
 ungentleman-like to break his word. He tried to smooth 
 out the cloven marks on his brow, and to speak in a 
 gentler tone. 
 
 " I do not wish to make you unhappy, Eoline," said he, 
 taking the hand that lay upon the arm of the sofa. It 
 trembled, and was very cold, though she had just com 
 plained of the heat. " All my vexation originates in my 
 love for you. Of course I have some family pride, but it 
 is on your account." 
 
 * 4 All my happiness is now centred in you, dear fatner/' 
 85
 
 24-2 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 she cried, pressing his hand with fervor against her heart, 
 that heart so wildly throbbing. " 1 only ask to live and 
 die with you." 
 
 Before she had finished this short sentence, she had 
 wound one arm around his neck, and was weeping unre 
 strainedly on his breast. 
 
 " Come, come, my daughter," said he, soothing her with 
 unwonted tenderness, for he had never seen her wear such 
 a heart-broken look. "I did not mean to be harsh or 
 upbraid you for the past, that past I have promised to for 
 get and forgive. Dry your eyes and sing for me. There 
 is nothing like music to drown unpleasant recollections. 
 Come, let me lead you to the piano." 
 
 Eoline followed his motions unresistingly, and he said 
 he had never heard her sing so sweetly and pathetically. 
 Then she flew off into a brilliant bravura, and a bright 
 light came into her eyes, and a crimson spot to her cheek, 
 while her lips wore a scarlet dye. If Doctor Hale had 
 seen her at that moment, he would have persisted in 
 calling her a young enigma. 
 
 " There is no faith in man," said she, when the mid 
 night found her sitting chilled and ghost-like in the 
 solitude of her chamber, (if it could be called solitude, 
 where Gatty's breathings gave such audible demonstrations 
 of a living presence,) and the expiring lamp was flickering 
 dimly on the wall. " Louisa was right when she said there 
 was but one Being who could satisfy the boundless desires 
 of the human heart. There is One in whom is no varia 
 bleness or shadow of change. Let me fly to Him for 
 refuge from the wild storm of human passion. Let me 
 anchor my soul on the Rock of eternal ages." It is 
 scarcely metaphorical to say that she wrestled through the 
 night with her own spirit. We will not say she came off 
 conqueror, but she gained at least a truce, and there was an
 
 EOLINE J OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 243 
 
 outward semblance of tranquillity. But even Willie soon 
 remarked a change in his blooming sister. 
 
 " What makes you so white, Ela V he would say, 
 passing his hands softly over her pale, oval cheeks, " and 
 your eyes don't shine as they did. They used to look lik 
 stars in the sky now they look like stars down in th 
 water." 
 
 "You will be a poet, Willie," said she smiling and 
 sighing at the same time. "You were always fond of 
 metaphors." 
 
 " What is a poet 1" asked Willie. " Is it a great big 
 man 1" 
 
 " It is one who is full of beautiful thoughts," replied 
 Eoline, " who sees bright images and lovely objects, where 
 others behold nothing but darkness and deformity. He 
 creates them, too, out of his own mind, and he sets all 
 these sweet thoughts to the music of his own lyre." 
 
 " Is not God a great poet 1" asked the child, reverently. 
 Then suddenly changing his tone, he added, " Is Horace 
 Cleveland a poet 1" 
 
 " I think he has the soul of a poet," replied Eoline j 
 "but why do you ask 1 ?" 
 
 " I don't know. Did he tell you he loved you when he 
 gave you the flowers I sent you V 
 
 " What a strange question, Willie !" cried Eoline, with 
 a dawning blush. 
 
 " I told him to say so," said Willie, as if he were 
 conscious of having done something very praiseworthy 
 " Because I told him, too, I would not love him if he di 
 not love you." 
 
 "How could you talk to him in such a manner 1 ." 
 exclaimed Eoline, more angry than she had ever been 
 with Willie before. " What could he think 1 What did 
 he say 1"
 
 244 EOLINE; OR, MAGMOLIA "VALE 
 
 " He said you would be angry, and so you be," cried 
 Willie, with a swelling chest. 
 
 " It is no matter now," said Eoline, calmly, " he will 
 never think of it again." 
 
 "Master Horace got home to-night," said Gatty, the 
 moment she had a chance to speak. This conversation 
 took place in the morning, and Gatty was a privileged 
 being there. "Csesar said so. (Csesar, Mr. Cleveland's 
 coachman, was husband to Gatty, and a very devoted one, 
 as most of the colored gentlemen are.) Caesar say he's 
 monstrous proud of his young master. He say he look 
 like a national prince to what he used to. Csesar say he 
 guess he crfme here this very night to see Miss Eoline, my 
 young mistress." 
 
 The cunning Gatty manufactured this last piece of news 
 herself, to see what effect it would have on her auditor, 
 and she was quite satisfied that it was not a matter of 
 indifference, when she saw the war of the houses of York 
 and Lancaster revived on Eoline's face. We are not cer 
 tain that this reflection was Gatty's, but she thought some 
 thing which meant the same thing. Gatty must have had 
 the gift of prophecy, for Horace Cleveland did call that very 
 night, and found Eoline and her father seated by a com 
 fortable fire, playing a game of chess. Eoline cherished 
 a growing fondness for this game, for she could indulge in 
 long reveries while her father was meditating some awful 
 move, fraught with destruction to her army. He was fond 
 of beating, and as her abstraction rendered the victory 
 more easy, it did not displease him. Mr. Glenmore did 
 not greet Horace quite so cordially as usual. Since he 
 had swerved from his allegiance to his house, he looked 
 upon him as a kind of deserter. But Eoline it was 
 strange, without one word of explanation, she felt relieved 
 of a crushing burden. The same' glance which had 
 electrified her from the embrasure of the window, in the
 
 EOLINE J OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 245 
 
 concert hall, only fraught with deeper power, falsified the 
 rumor which had reached her father's ear. It was not a 
 brilliant, passionate glance like St. Leon's, but it darted 
 like a burning arrow into her heart. 
 
 " So," said Mr. Glenmore, making a dashing caracole 
 with his King's Knight, " so, Horace, they say you are 
 conquered at last. You have found out you are vulner 
 able, like other men." 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir," said Horace, in a tone 
 of surprise and embarrassment, giving a glance at Eoline, 
 as much as to say, " is it possible she has been ungenerous 
 enough to betray my weakness 1 ." 
 
 " Why they say you are going to surrender your liberty 
 to a young and beautiful heiress, who was captivated by 
 your heroic exploit on the water. I should like to see her. 
 She must be a young lady of rare attractions." 
 
 " I suppose she is," replied Horace, dryly, " but I have 
 not seen her yet myself. My father has been questioning 
 me on this subject. I heard nothing of it before I left the 
 regions where the unknown lady dwells." 
 
 " But you are convicted on your own confession," cried 
 Eoline's father. "In your letter to your father, you 
 acknowledged the surrender of your liberty." 
 
 " I did not know that private letters were matters of 
 public discussion !" exclaimed Horace, while an expression 
 of pain and displeasure clouded his brow. 
 
 Eoline, who now understood that letter, felt grieved 
 and disconcerted at her father's want of delicacy towards 
 him. 
 
 " And so you are not going to be married, after all, ana 
 it is a false report !" cried Mr. Glenmore, wheeling rouna 
 from the chess-board, and clapping Horace cordially on 
 the shoulder, without appearing to notice the effect of his 
 last remark. " I am glad of it you seem so much like a 
 boy to me yet, 1 ' he added, as if to modify the expression
 
 246 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 of his joy. " It is difficult to realize the possibility of 
 such an event." 
 
 Eoline could not help smiling, thinking how marvel- 
 ously Horace had degenerated into a boy, since her father's 
 conversation with her on the matrimonial scheme. 
 
 From this evening Horace became a constant visitor, 
 and Mr. Glenmore's hopes flourished with new vigor, 
 when one evening they received a mortal blow from the 
 lips of Eoline. 
 
 She was in one of her brightest, most sportive moods. 
 She waltzed with Willie till he rolled on the carpet, 
 and every breath was a wood-note, as changeful as the 
 mocking-bird's. 
 
 "And now, father," said she, standing behind him as 
 he sat upon the sofa, and putting her arms round his 
 neck, " I have something to tell you I have a sanction to 
 ask, on which all the happiness of my life depends I 
 have never yet told you " here she paused, as if in embar 
 rassment, "that I met a young gentleman at Magnolia 
 Vale who won my undivided affections." 
 
 " The devil you did !" exclaimed Mr. Glenmore, start 
 ing upon his feet, and forgetting his dignity in his over 
 whelming astonishment. " Some low-born adventurer ; 
 some itinerant musician, I dare say." 
 
 " No, sir in birth, in wealth, in personal and mental 
 endowments, he equals your boasted favorite, Horace 
 Cleveland. You know I inherit something of my father's 
 pride, and I could not love where I did not honor and 
 esteem. 
 
 " Eoline, it is in vain I have borne with your caprices 
 and obstinacy, and forgiven them all, but now when Horace 
 Cleveland is come in our midst, free to choose, when I see 
 BO plainly your growing influence over him, when you 
 yourself seem so happy in his presence, as to cheat me 
 into tb.3 belief that you were learning to lo^ him, when
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 247 
 
 I was dreaming of seeing my long-cherished wishes at last 
 crowned with fruition I cannot bear this disappointment 
 and what is more / will not." 
 
 Mr. Glenmore had talked himself into fever heat, and 
 he fanned himself violently with his handkerchief. 
 
 "Father," said Eoline, meekly, "only see him once, and 
 if you then will not consent, I promise never to persecute 
 you with my unfortunate attachment I will go still far 
 ther, and pledge my word to wed Horace Cleveland, if he 
 ever honors me by asking your sanction to his vows. You 
 can trust me, father, for you have never yet detected me 
 in a falsehood. But you will, you must approve.''' 
 
 " Remember this promise, Eoline, for by the memory 
 of your mother, I know I shall require its fulfilment. I 
 know the young man lives not whom I could like as a son- 
 in-law, as well as Horace Cleveland. Well, where is this 
 nonpareil, this mysterious, unheard-of personage! And 
 what may be his name 1" 
 
 " He shall tell you himself," said Eoline, with a hesi 
 tating tone, " perhaps you will not like its sound, and it 
 may prejudice you against him." 
 
 " John Brown or Peter Stokes, perhaps." 
 
 " The name does not make the man, father." 
 
 "Well, when is this illustrious stranger to make his 
 appearance V 
 
 " This evening he will call, if you permit it." 
 
 " So, you have had clandestine interviews with him 
 already !" 
 
 "I have met him when I was walking abroad, but I 
 assure you it was not clandestinely." 
 
 "Why have you not told me this sooner 1" said he with 
 increasing sternness. " I thought once St. Leon was the 
 happy man, but you turned him off to that little loving 
 simpleton, Amelia, and I was glad of it, for reasons you 
 well know. Though I am confident I should prefer him
 
 248 EOLINE ; OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 to your new prince of darkness. Why, I ask again, hav* 
 you withheld this disclosure so long 1 ?" 
 
 "There were obstacles which have only lately been 
 removed." 
 
 " There are obstacles which will never be removed. 
 But never mind I will see him I will see him." 
 
 There was a ringing of the door-bell, and the sound of 
 footsteps in the passage. 
 
 " He is coming," said Eoline, " I know his step. Now 
 let me entreat you, father, not to express any disappoint 
 ment, if you should feel it. Do not make any such remarks 
 as you did a little while ago. It would shock him very 
 much, for, I assure you, he is a perfect gentleman." 
 
 While Eoline went to the door, to ask in the John 
 Brown or Peter Stokes of her father's imagination, he 
 seated himself on the sofa, with an air of imposing dignity, 
 crossed his arms on his chest, and throwing back his head, 
 fixed his eyes on the ceiling with a look of determined 
 dislike. 
 
 As Eoline left the room she had removed the lamp to a 
 remote table, and the firelight was burning faint and low. 
 
 "She is ashamed that I shall see him," thought he, 
 noticing the shadows that were settling round. " The 
 most sensible girls often make the most foolish and ridicu 
 lous choice." 
 
 He heard the door re-open, and Eoline enter, with one 
 whose step was firmer and more commanding than hers. 
 She came near and knelt on the footstool at his feet, 
 clinging to the arm of her companion, who stood erect, as 
 man ought to stand in the presence of fellow-man. His 
 lofty figure did not seem accustomed to the act of genu 
 flection. Mr. Glenmore still kept his eyes fixed in a lordly 
 stare upon the ceiling. 
 
 "Father," said Eoline, "all the happiness of my life 
 hangs tremMing on your will."
 
 EOLINE J OR MAGNOLIA VALE. 249 
 
 " Mr. Glenmore," cried the young man, in a low but 
 distinct voice, " all that I hold dear on earth depends upon 
 the decision of this moment." 
 
 The eyes of Mr. Glenmore, which had been slowly 
 descending from their astronomical height, suddenly took 
 
 precipitous leap on the face of the young man. Holding 
 him at arm's length one moment, he exclaimed 
 
 "Why, how what who's thisl Horace Cleveland, 
 by all that's veritable." 
 
 "No, father," cried Eoline; "it's John Brown or Peter 
 Stokes, you know." 
 
 "You little deceiving gipsy !" Here he caught her in 
 his arms, and gave her a breath-stifling squeeze, then 
 rising, he gave Horace a truly parental, high-pressure 
 embrace. And not satisfied with these demonstrations of 
 satisfaction, he again opened his arms and took them both 
 in, in one fold. " So, you have been trying to make a 
 fool of me, have you!" cried he, rubbing his hands, his 
 face radiant with good humor. 
 
 "No, father," replied Eoline, who was now seated 
 between her father and Horace, the centre of as happy a 
 trio as ever sat on a velvet sofa, in front of a bright 
 autumn fire, for it blowed up suddenly, as if participating 
 in the household joy, "You have been so long plotting 
 against us, I thought I would get up one little counter 
 plot, to wind up the last scene of the last act of the 
 drama." 
 
 "Very good excellent," exclaimed Mr. Glenmore, and 
 growing quite facetious in his joy, he continued " yes, it 
 would make a capital play from beginning to end. Ha, 
 ha I remember the first scene as well as if it were but 
 yesterday. Enter a little boy in tunic and trowsers, and 
 sits down on the carpet with a face as long as his arm, 
 making a right-angle of his legs and body. Enter a baby 
 in long clothes, and sits down in his lap."
 
 250 EOLINE J OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 " I think I could bear the infliction now with a better 
 grace," said Horace. 
 
 "I know I must have been a shockingly ugly baby," 
 cried Eoline, laughing, " or Horace would have liked me 
 better." 
 
 " And so you really love each other, after all," inter- 
 upted the father, " and there is no sham in it 1 It is a 
 sober, blessed reality, is it 1" 
 
 " We love each other," exclaimed Horace, taking the 
 hand of Eoline, and clasping it firmly in his own; <4 we 
 love each other with our whole hearts, minds and souls ; 
 we love each other as we always would have done had we 
 been left to our own free will. Were Heaven itself forced 
 upon our acceptance, such is the pride of the human heart, 
 we should repel the gift." 
 
 "Like the ancient Parthians," said Eoline, "I wounded 
 only in flying." 
 
 " All's well that ends well," cried Mr. Glenmore, oracu 
 larly. " We fathers may have erred in judgment as to 
 the best way to accomplish our wishes, but you must 
 acknowledge we were right after all." 
 
 But it would be impossible to record all the sayings of 
 that memorable evening. Mr. Glenmore was obliged to 
 walk over to Cleveland Villa, so that he and his friend 
 could mingle their rejoicings and it is not at all probable 
 that Horace and Eoline suffered the conversation to grow 
 dull in his absence. 
 
 Not long after there were preparations for a magnificent 
 wedding. The son of Mr. Cleveland, of Cleveland Villa, 
 and the daughter of Mr. Glenmore, of Glenmore Place, 
 were not allowed to marry after a plebeian fashion. Csesar 
 and Gatty, who were the next happiest people in the world, 
 held consultations on the subject every night. 
 
 "I knowed all this time, 'twas nothing but a make- 
 believe/' said Caebar, consequentially "bout their not
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 251 
 
 liking each other, just to see what folks would say. As 
 if there was a white young lady this side of Jerusalem, 
 wouldn't jump at the chance of my young master." 
 
 " Now, Csesar, you knows nothing at all 'bout the dilli- 
 cacy of the fair sex," replied Gatty, tossing up her eyes 
 with a look of lofty experience, " my mistress wan't a 
 gontu saxifrize herself for nothing. She didn't make 
 believe, no sich thing. She is beneath such a mean doing 
 as that ; but she know when the young lady seem sortu 
 unwilling, the young gentleman think a heap more of her 
 dignity. 
 
 " If that ain't sham," exclaimed Caesar, indignantly, 
 " I'll eat my head, wool and all. Why didn't you put on 
 them airs with me, Gatty say 1 Case you knows I was a 
 gentleman, and wouldn't stand 'em no how. You was a 
 heap willinger than Csesar, that's a fact." 
 
 Here he laughed with conscious superiority, while he 
 gave her a saucy punch in the side. Gatty, in return, 
 slapped him coquettishly on the face, and then they went 
 on discussing the fair sex in general, and Eoline in par 
 ticular. 
 
 The wedding was indeed a princely festival. One of 
 those real open-heart, open-door weddings, the Southern 
 nabob glories in giving to his son or daughter. The twin 
 mansions were brilliantly illuminated, flashing their festive 
 radiance far and wide. Even the majestic old oaks stood 
 blazing with lamps suspended on their branching arms, 
 sharing in their grand unwithered age, the jubilee of their 
 lords. Within the bridal hall all was beauty, and splendor, 
 and hilarity. Eoline, fair as the magnolia of the South, 
 and blushing as its rose, stood in her white robes, sparkling 
 with diamonds, the bridal gift of Mr. Cleveland. She 
 would have preferred the orange blossoms alone, but she 
 could not refuse the offered decorations of her proud and 
 magnificent father-in-law.
 
 252 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 Gatty was in ecstacies, for she said " any poor and no 
 account sort of folks could stick on flowers but it wan't 
 every body that could get diamonds, by a loi,g slip and 
 Miss Eoline looks just as tho' she was born in 'em." 
 
 Messrs. Glenmore and Cleveland made speeches to the 
 bride and bridegroom, which being very long, and as no 
 tenographer was present to take them down, it is impossi 
 ble to record but Willie, the cupid of the evening, made 
 a very short one, which produced more manifest effect. 
 Wearied of being admired and caressed, he pressed through 
 the crowd to bid good-night to the beautiful sister-bride. 
 
 "Do you love sister Ela now!" said he to Horace, 
 whose countenance certainly expressed no very intense 
 hatred for this fair being at his side. 
 
 "You must ask Ela if I do," replied the bridegroom, 
 blushing at the laugh Willie's straight-forward question 
 elicited from those within hearing. 
 
 " Have you told her so to night 1" 
 
 " I think I have, but I may be mistaken. You must ask 
 her." 
 
 " You said she would be angry, if you did," said the 
 child who seemed to have arrived at a very triumphant 
 conclusion of all his doubts " but she don't look angry 
 one bit. I wish you had told her so at first, then she 
 never would have gone away and left us." 
 
 The sister-bride began to look rather disconcerted, and 
 think her little brother more voluble than wise. Certainly 
 if she was incensed at Horace's declaration, she put a very 
 sweet face on her displeasure. There were some who went 
 away from the wedding, saying, " They had heard it was a 
 forced marriage after all, in spite of her running away to 
 get rid of it. But if it were, they were the most deceitful 
 young people they ever saw for, to look at them, one 
 would think they were really deeply in love with eacb 
 other."
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 253 
 
 Horace, at the earnest desire of his father, quitted the 
 town where he had been residing, and which was become 
 quite illustrious by the morning brightness of his renown, 
 and established himself with his young bride in the pater 
 nal palace. He resolved, however, to continue in the 
 honorable career he had commenced, and not sit down to 
 eat the bread of indolence. Eoline was a golden link, 
 uniting the two households, and for once the dreams of 
 parental wealth and pride were fully realized. 
 
 St. Leon and Amelia, previous to the nuptials of Eoline, 
 after a very private and unostentatious wedding, had de 
 parted for his home near the banks of the deep-rolling 
 Mississippi. In consequence of the recent death of her 
 husband, her parents wished to defer the union, but the 
 fear of her relapsing into her former melancholy state, if 
 he were allowed to leave her behind, induced them to give 
 a reluctant consent. St. Leon was aware of the approach 
 ing union of Eoline and Horace, and wished to be far 
 away before its consummation. Though he had found 
 strength to resign her himself, he had not courage to remain 
 and think of her as given to the heart of another. 
 
 " I should like to see Magnolia Vale once again," said 
 Eoline, just before the May flowers of another Spring 
 unfolded their vernal charms ; " I should like to see Uncle 
 Ben, the magnificent Colonel, and the dear affectionate 
 children." 
 
 " Let us go," replied Horace, " I, too, should delight in 
 revisiting a spot sacred to the memory of my love." 
 
 " You speak as if it were dead, Horace," said Eoline- 
 smiling in the consciousness of its immortal life, " and 
 you were going to weep over its monument." 
 
 " Let us go to it, then, as the birth-place of our love, 
 and the scene of its despair. That lawn, with its embow 
 ering roses and sheltering trees is the Vauduse of my heart, 
 and embalmed by the recollections of that unforgotten
 
 254 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 night, when I walked its paths with you, then the affianced 
 bride of another. Yes, we must visit it once more, and 
 make it a witness of our wedded happiness." 
 
 The next morning they started for Magnolia Vale. 
 
 Towards the evening of the second day, the carriage 
 stopped at the large gate of the seminary. It ^as near 
 the sunset hour, and the children were assembled on the 
 play-ground. It seemed as if the day-god had gathered 
 around him more than the usual accompaniments of his 
 departing glory, in honor of their approach. Every hue, 
 from the kingly purple illumined by fiery gold, to the paly 
 saffron, and glittering sea-green, flashed and glowed in the 
 iridescent West. The green carpet of the lawn looked as 
 if sprinkled with burning gold, and the bright foliage of 
 the trees was bronzed here and there with the same rich 
 and gilding hues. 
 
 "Is this a reality 1" said Eoline, " or does my happy 
 heart throw a sun-bright reflection on every object 1 Oh, 
 there is dear Uncle Ben. He is a reality." 
 
 Sure enough, there was his quaint and well-known 
 figure, shooting about the lawn, exactly as she had first 
 beheld him, with a long piece of white paper pinned to 
 his back, the youngest and friskiest of all. And there, 
 too, she distinguished the flaxen ringlets of darling Fanny ; 
 the dark, purplish locks of Selma ; the soft, chestnut hair 
 of Annie ; and the round, rosy face of little Bessie Bell. 
 Jerusha, also, was running for her life, throwing her feet 
 up very high behind, and occasionally falling, with a 
 violent plunge, on her head. As soon as the travelers 
 descended from the carriage, the children paused in their 
 sport, and looked eagerly round. In a moment, Eoline 
 was surrounded by her juvenile friends, and welcomed 
 with as much rapture as if she were a visitant from 
 Heaven. Then the young Misses, recollecting the pre 
 sence of Horace, drew back and blushed and curtsied with
 
 EOLINE ; OB, MAGNOLIA VALE. 255 
 
 bashful grace. But he, no longer considering them the 
 formidable band whose terrors he dared not face, smiled 
 upon them so cordially and greeted them so frankly, they 
 thought him perfectly captivating. No words could speak 
 the enthusiastic delight of Uncle Ben, in seeing again his 
 inspired little David. He shook her hand so long and 
 hard, she was compelled to call out for mercy ; then he 
 capered into the house as if the talaria of Mercury were 
 fastened to his heels, to inform his neice of her arrival. 
 
 When Eoline entered the doors of the seminary, she 
 beheld the towering form of Miss Manly descending the 
 winding stairs, with her usual dignified and majestic 
 bearing. Yet there was something in her appearance -that 
 was strange, and Eoline at first could not define what it 
 was. A second glance discovered the cause of the trans 
 formation. The two long side curls no longer waved 
 down her cheeks, sweeping against her shoulders, like the 
 untwisting coils of a serpent. They were combed back 
 in a smooth fold, undistinguished in the dark mass that 
 covered her head. There was something softer, more 
 feminine, about her face, and even the white rim of her 
 eye was scarcely visible above the large black iris. She 
 accosted Eoline and Horace with formal but cordial 
 politeness, and expressed herself complimented by a visit 
 as gratifying as it was unexpected. 
 
 Eoline missed the meek and gentle Louisa, but she was 
 introduced to a sweet-faced, modest young girl, her junior 
 sister, who told her all about Charles, whom she appeared 
 to consider the model of all human excellence. He haa 
 received a call from a town in Southern Virginia, where 
 he was to convey his bride in the autumn. 
 
 "And then," exclaimed Eoline, joyously, "we shall 
 meet again, for I would travel from one end of the rain 
 bow to the other, to see her once more." 
 
 She was rejoiced to hear that Louisa's health was so
 
 256 EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 much invigorated, they had forgotten to think of her aa 
 an invalid. It seems that what she mistook for the 
 symptoms of a fatal and hereditary malady, was only the 
 debility resulting from long confinement and unceasing 
 exertion. 
 
 Eoline visited her little chamber, and she could not 
 help laughing aloud, when Jerusha, as a matter of course, 
 came lumbering behind her to the scene of her former 
 achievements. 
 
 " We've got a man teacher now," said Jerusha, " who 
 only comes here in the day-time. But I don't like him 
 one bit. He keeps my knuckles as red as fire, slapping 
 them with a stick. I can play a tune though. Don't you 
 want to hear me 1" 
 
 Eoline excused herself for the present, thinking if the 
 gentleman had the art of reddening Jerusha's knuckles, it 
 was as marvelous and superfluous an act of supererogation 
 as gilding refined gold and whitening the lily. She was 
 astonished at the interest that invested every object around 
 her. Even the grim old wardrobe seemed to welcome its 
 former mistress from its shadowy corner. It was a massy 
 link in the great chain of the past, that dark chain on 
 which her present bright destiny was suspended. 
 
 " Perhaps you would prefer a private table," said Miss 
 Manly, when the well-remembered supper-bell rang, with 
 prolonged peal, and the rustle of flying dresses was heard 
 upon the stairs. 
 
 "Oh, no," replied Eoline, "I should not feel at home 
 unless I sat down in the long hall, with your whole house 
 hold." 
 
 Jerusha claimed a seat by Eoline, as a kind of primor 
 dial right, but darling Fanny's sweet face sparkled upon 
 her from the opposite side, and many other radiant coun 
 tenances beaming with smiles of welcome. Jerusha 
 feemed anxious to display her progress in the graces, draw-
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 257 
 
 ing herself up as stiff and erect as a grenadier, pinning her 
 elbows to her sides so close, that her hands hung forward 
 like the paws of a cat sitting on its hind feet. She was 
 evidently on her best behaviour, and kept looking askance 
 at Eoline, to see if she were not admiring her graceful de 
 portment. But Eoline was more interested in observing 
 Miss Manly, who had relaxed much of her iron discipline. 
 She preserved equal order, but with less coldness and 
 formality. The young Misses occasionally spoke to each 
 other in low, gentle tones, without being reproved for 
 violating the rules of Chesterfield. She still kept up her 
 literary banquets, but she no longer confined herself to 
 heroes who had won the honors of the Great. She even 
 condescended to bring forward the good and gifted of her 
 own sex, as models for imitation. There was a religious 
 tone also perceptible in her discipline. She often selected 
 subjects from the Divine Records not only Deborah, sit 
 ting under her palm tree, judging the tribes of Israel, but 
 the lovely and self-sacrificing Ruth, following the mother 
 of Mahlon into a foreign land, and the lowly Mary bath 
 ing her Saviour's feet with tears, and 
 
 " Wiping them with that golden hair, 
 Where once the diamond shone." 
 
 Her character had indeed been subjected to a softening 
 influence. She had been made aware of the existence of 
 her own heart, and though she had bought this knowledge 
 with mortification and sorrow, known only to herself, it 
 had given her a key to the hearts of others. Conscious of 
 her own weakness, she became lenient to the errors she 
 had once made a subject of severe discipline. She still 
 wielded with sovereign majesty the sceptre of command, 
 but her authority was tempered with kindness. Her per 
 sonal habits were not essentially changed, for they had be 
 come as it were the drapery of her soul. She waved her 
 head with the same imperial motion, though the curls lav
 
 258 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 furled up like banners after a day of battle. She made 
 long harangues, but there was more wheat and less chaff, 
 more gold and less dross in the sentiments she uttered. A 
 South wind seemed to have passed over her spirit, and 
 winnowed it of its roughest and most repellant particles. 
 
 " We must call and see our excellent friend, Doctor 
 Hale," said Eoline, " I never, never shall forget his kind- 
 aess." 
 
 The doctor seemed delighted to greet the young enigma, 
 and welcomed her with* heart-cheering warmth. 
 
 " So, you did not marry my handsome patient, after all," 
 laid he, in a lowered voice, while Horace was conversing 
 with Mrs. Hale, at the opposite side of the room. "If 
 you did not stoop to conquer, you fled to be overtaken, it 
 seems. Well, I think you have made the nobler choice. 
 I like this young man. All are not men who wear the 
 form of man. He is one of God's own making. Young 
 lady, you deserve to be happy, and God grant you may 
 long enjoy the reward of your virtues, and may it prove 
 the crown of your rejoicing." 
 
 Eoline had always admired and esteemed Doctor Hale, 
 now she quite adored him for his praises of Horace. 
 
 She had consented to remain till after the first of May, 
 that she might participate in the holiday pleasures which 
 Miss Manly spontaneously granted, who, even graciously 
 consented to share them herself, and had an elegant colla 
 tion prepared and spread out on the green, under the mag 
 nolia's shade, in honor of her guests. 
 
 It would be difficult to describe Eoline's feelings, when 
 she sat once more under those odoriferous boughs, by the 
 side of Horace Cleveland. Again the hoarse murmurs of 
 the mill-dam roared with a deep, droning sound in her ears, 
 and the blue waters twinkled as brightly, and tossed up 
 their white foam as sportively as when the mellifluous 
 voice of St. Leoxi was borne across the stream. Sh<?
 
 EOLINE j OH, MAGNOLIA VALE. 259 
 
 thought of all the events of the past year, and lifted up 
 her soul in gratitude to Heaven for her present felicity. 
 There was a voice dearer than St. Leon's now breathing 
 in her ear. There was an arm stronger, ready to enfold 
 her, should the stormy winds and beating rains of life dash 
 coldly against her bosom. There was a heart firmer and 
 truer, all her own, on which she could lean for support, 
 secure of its allegiance, though the pillars of the universe 
 were shaken. 
 
 "While she sat folded in the mantle of dreamy thought, 
 a chaplet of flowers was cast lightly round her brow, and 
 sweet voices, blending together, hailed her as Queen of 
 May. 
 
 "You forget that I am married," said Eoline, laughing, 
 " and cannot wear these floral honors now." 
 
 " Queens marry like other people," cried Bessie Bell 
 " I am sure look at Queen Victoria I wonder if she is 
 not married." 
 
 " Suffer me to transfer my diadem of flowers," said 
 Eoline, placing it gracefully on Fanny's sun-bright curls. 
 "I am content with the sovereignty of one kingdom." 
 
 " Why is Mr. Cleveland like a King'J" asked Uncle Ben, 
 with sudden inspiration. " Can't you guess 1 ?" (Uncle Ben 
 was a true Yankee.) "Because a virtuous wife is a crown 
 to her husband. And he has a crown of pearls and dia 
 monds worth all the regalia of England." 
 
 This was a great speech for Uncle Ben to make, and he 
 looked slyly at Miss Manly, as if he thought he had said 
 something unusually smart. The children, of course 
 began to laugh as soon as he opened his lips, but aston 
 ished by the sublimity of his closing remark, they looked 
 exceedingly grave. 
 
 Eoline had attended many brilliant parties in honor of 
 her marriage, but never had she enjoyed one so fully and 
 heartily as this charming, rural festival, in the magnolia's
 
 260 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. 
 
 Eden bower. Horace, too, entered into the spirit of the 
 scene with a graceful gayety that surprised even Eoline. 
 who had never seen him surrounded by such genial mflu 
 ences. Love, like a warm Southern sun, shining on the 
 firm rich soil of his character, had prepared it for the 
 growth of the fairest flowers, as well as the noblest fruit. 
 His mind resembled one of those beautiful islands of the 
 tropic seas, formed of the hard and rock-like reef, rising 
 rugged and cold above the dashing waves of the ocean. 
 The winds waft the covering earth from the shore, the birds 
 of the air plant the germs of fertility and beauty, green 
 ness and bloom clothe its surface, till Nature rejoices in 
 its glory, and sets it, a radiant gem, in her emerald crown. 
 
 As Uncle Ben waxed merry with his juvenile compa 
 nions, he ventured to jest with his niece on the probability 
 of her being married before another May-day holiday. 
 
 Eoline was alarmed, fearing that was a chord which 
 could not bear touching ; but her fears were groundless. 
 
 " No," said Miss Manly, while a shadow flitted momen 
 tarily over her brow, caused by the remembrance of St. 
 Leon " I have chosen my vocation, and never shall aban 
 don it. It has its thorns, but it has its roses, too. Let 
 others seek happiness in the exercise of domestic virtues," 
 here she looked graciously towards Eoline, " I have entered 
 a broader, and I say it with modesty, a nobler, more exalted 
 sphere. These children," she added, with that peculiar 
 wave of her lofty head, which reminded one of a pine- 
 tree bowing in the wind " these children are all mine 
 They are entrusted to my guardian care by that Great 
 Taskmaster to whom I must one day give an account of 
 my charge. To use an appropriate metaphor, I consider 
 myself an humble florist in the garden of my Lord, cul 
 tivating for His glory these intellectual and moral flowers 
 which shall bloom in immortal beauty, when low in dust 
 hall fade the blossoms of Magnolia Vale."
 
 EOLINE J OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. ' 261 
 
 Miss Manly paused, and bent her head to conceal the 
 unwonted moisture gathering in her eye. A deep and 
 gentle seriousness shaded the blooming countenances 
 around her, for they felt, as she spoke, the truth of their 
 immortal destiny. The sun which had been hidden behind 
 a white, fleecy cloud, now rolled its silver wheel on the 
 clear, blue ether, and a flood of light bathed the bosom of 
 Magnolia Vale. 
 
 THE END.
 
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 LIVES OF GENERALS AND OTHER NOTED MEN. 
 
 Moore's Life of Hon. Schuyler Colfax. By Rev. A. Y. Moore, of 
 
 South Bend. With a Fine Steel Portrait. One vol. cloth. Price.. 1 50 
 The Lives of Grant and Colfax. With life-like portraits of each, and 
 
 other engravings. Cloth, $1.00 ; or in paper cover, 75 
 
 Illustrated Life, Speeches, Martyrdom and Funeral of President 
 
 Abraham Lincoln. Cloth, $1.75; or in paper cover, 1 50 
 
 Life and Services of General Sheridan. Cloth, $1.00; or in paper,.. 75 
 Life, Battles, Reports, and Public Services of General George B. 
 
 McClellan. Price in paper 50 cents, or in cloth 75 
 
 Life and Public Services of General George G. Meade, the Hero of 
 
 Gettysburg 25 
 
 Life and Public Services of General Benjamin F. Butler, the Hero 
 
 of New Orleans, 25 
 
 Life of President Andrew Johnson. Cloth, $1.00 ; or in paper 75 
 
 The Impeachment and Trial of Andrew Johnson, cheap paper cover 
 
 edition, price 50 cents, or a finer edition, bound in cloth, price .... 1 50 
 Trial of the Assassins and Conspirators for the murder of President 
 
 Abraham Lincoln. Cloth, $1.50 ; or cheap edition in paper cover, 50 
 Lives of Horatio Seymour and Francis P. Blair, Jr. Complete in 
 
 one duodecimo volume. Price 50 cents in paper, or in cloth, 75 
 
 Life of Archbishop Hughes, first Archbishop of New York, 25 
 
 ^" Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
 T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa.
 
 16 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 LIEBIG'S WORKS ON CHEMISTRY. 
 
 Agricultural Chemistry, 25 I Liebig's celebrated Letters on 
 
 Animal Chemistry, 251 the Potato Disease, 25 
 
 Liebig's Complete Works on Chemistry, is also issued in one large 
 
 octavo volume, bound in cloth. Price Two Dollars. 
 
 SIR E. I. BULWER'S NOVELS. 
 
 The Roue, 50 I The Courtier, 25 
 
 The Oxonians, 50 I Falkland, 25 
 
 DR. HOLLICK'S WORKS. 
 
 Dr. Hollick's great work on the Anatomy and Physiology of the 
 
 Human Figure, with colored dissected plates of the Human Figure, 1 25 
 Dr. Hollick's Family Physician, a Pocket Guide for Everybody, 25 
 
 GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN'S SPEECHES. 
 
 Union Speeches. In 2 vols., each 25 I Downfall of England, 10 
 
 Speech to the Fenians, 25 J Slavery and Emancipation, 10 
 
 REV. CHAS. WADSWORTH'S SERMONS. 
 
 America's Mission, 25 | A Thanksgiving Sermon, 15 
 
 Thankfulness and Character,.. 25 | Politics in Religion, 12 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher on War and Emancipation, 15 
 
 Rev. William T. Brantley's Union Sermon, 15 
 
 EXPOSITIONS OF SECRET ORDERS, ETC. 
 
 Odd Fellowship Exposed, 13 
 
 Sons of Malta Exposed, 13 
 
 Life of Rev. John N. Maffit,... 13 
 
 Dr. Berg's Answer to Arch 
 bishop Hughes 13 
 
 Dr. Berg on the Jesuits, 13 
 
 RIDDELL'S MODEL ARCHITECT. 
 
 Architectural Designs of Model Country Residences. By John Riddell, 
 Practical Architect. Illustrated with twenty-two full page Front Eleva 
 tions, colored, with forty-four Plates of Ground Plans, including the First 
 and Second Stories, with plans of the stories, full specifications of all the 
 articles used, and estimate of price. Price Fifteen Dollars a copy. 
 
 GOOD BOOKS FOR EVERYBODY. 
 
 Southern Life ; or,- Inside Views of Slavery, 1 00 
 
 The Rich Men of Philadelphia, Income Tax List of Residents, 1 00 
 
 Childbirth. Its pains lessened and its perils obviated. Showing that 
 
 the pains of childbirth may be mitigated, if not entirely prevented, 1 00 
 Peterson's Complete Coin Book, containing fac-similes of all the 
 
 Coins in the World, with the U. S. Mint value of each coin, 1 00 
 
 New Card of Stamp Duties, approved by the last Acts of Congress, 15 
 Political Lyrics. New Hampshire and Nebraska. Illustrated 12 
 
 CHRISTY & WHITE'S SONG BOOKS. 
 
 Christy & Wood's Song Book,. 10 
 
 Melodeon Song Book, 10 
 
 Plantation Melodies, 10 
 
 Ethiopian Song Book, 10 
 
 Serenader's Song Book, 10 
 
 Budworth's Songs, 10 
 
 Christy and White's Complete 
 Ethiopian Melodies. Cloth, 1 00 
 
 CURVED-POINT STEEL PENS. 
 
 The Slip Pen, .... per dozen .25, per gross, $2.50 
 
 The Barrel Pen, ... per " .50, " 5.00 
 
 Magnum Bonum Pen, ... per " .75, " 8.00> 
 
 Jt^* Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
 T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa.
 
 T. A. TROLLOPE'S WORKS 
 
 Each work is complete in one large duodecimo volume. 
 Price of each, $1.75 in Cloth ; or, $1.50 each, in Paper Cover. 
 
 LEONORA CASALONI; OR, THE MARRIAGE SECRET. 
 
 " The pictures of life in Italy, as drawn by Trollope, are as charming 
 as they are true. In ' Leonora Casaloni,' the description of the basilica 
 of St. John of Lateran, at Rome, of the hills on the sea-coast where 
 Leonora lived, and of the wild passes of the Apennines through which 
 Ceasare traveled, are among the most vivid things of their kind in fiction. 
 The character of Gobbo is an original one, and the poor fellow strangely 
 enlists our sympathies. The interest turns upon the marriage-secret of a 
 great Roman family, which is adroitly kept in mystery until the conclud 
 ing pages. This is a story of striking merit produced in the maturity 
 of its gifted author's mind." R. Shelton Mackenzie. 
 
 GEMMA. A TALE OF LOVE AND JEALOUSY. 
 
 " Mr. T. A. Trollope gives us in ' Gemma,' one of his novels of Italian 
 private life of the present day. The descriptions of the city of Siena of 
 the country around of Savona, the desolate town of Maremma are won 
 derfully graphic, and bear witness to their having been done from the life 
 by one who has lived in the places and loved them. The scene in the great 
 church of Savona is brought vividly before the reader, who will not easily 
 shake off the impression it produces. We would recommend the reader to 
 learn for himself the unravelling of the plot and the final result. The 
 story will well repay perusal, and the interest increases as the story pro 
 ceeds." London Athenaeum.. 
 
 BEPPO; THE CONSCRIPT. 
 
 " In ' Beppo the Conscript' we are transported to ' the narrow strip of 
 territory shut in between the Apennines and the Adriatic, to the south of 
 Bologna and the north of Ancona/ where European civilization once cen 
 tred, Tasso sung and raved, and the Dukes of Urbino flourished. But 
 not to revive their past glories are we beguiled to the decayed old city 
 of Fano, and the umbrageous valleys that nestle amid the surrounding 
 hills ; it is the normal, primitive, agricultural life and economy of the 
 region, and the late political and social condition of the inhabitants, 
 which this story illustrates. The means and methods of rural toil, 
 the 'wine, corn, and oil' of Scriptural and Virgilian times , the avarice, 
 the pride, the love, the industry, and the superstition of the Contadini of 
 the Romagna ; a household of prosperous rustics, their ways and traits ; 
 and the subtle and prevailing agency of priestcraft in its secret opposi 
 tion to the new and liberal Italian government, are all exhibited with 
 a quiet zest and a graphic fidelity which takes us into the heart of the 
 people, and the arcana, as well as the spectacle of daily life as there latent 
 and manifest. The domestic, peasant, and provincial scenes and charac 
 ters are drawn with fresh and natural colors and faithful outlines." 
 Henry T. Tuckerman. 
 
 MARIETTA ; OR, LIFE IN TUSCANY. 
 
 " Mr. T. A. Trollope, always a prime favorite of ours, has excelled him 
 self in ' Marietta.' It is a charming book charming not for its exquis 
 itely graphic and accurate pictures of Italian life in country and city, but 
 still more so for its admirable delineations of character." London Satur- 
 drty Press. 
 
 G1ULIO MALATESTA. 
 
 " GIULIO MALATESTA opens with distinctive glimpses of an old Italian 
 university town initiates us into the prolonged and patient political con 
 spiracies of Komagna. and the ideal hopes of Gioberti's disciples. Its 
 
 (11)
 
 12 T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE'S WORKS. 
 
 hero is a student at Pisa, and one of the hrave champions of Italy who 
 led the Tuscan volunteers to patriotic martyrdom, in 1848, at Curtone. 
 Nowhere have we read so graceful and graphic a picture of that nohle 
 episode in the history of Tuscany, which redeemed her character and 
 proved the latent manliness of her children." Henry T. Tuckerman. 
 
 DREAM NUMBERS. 
 
 " T. Adolphus Trollope patiently collects and philosophically arrange! 
 his material, and is content to do so without seeking any startling effects 
 or recondite significance. Indeed, the chief obstacle with which such a 
 writer has to contend, is the prevalent appetite we cannot call it taste 
 for the sensational. He ignores the intense school he describes what he 
 sees, knows, and feels ; and does so in a very direct, simple, candid, and 
 therefore sympathetic way. If the reader knows or cares anything about 
 the region or race thus delineated, he will find a refreshing, calm, and 
 grateful flavor of truth and sympathy in the unpretending but significant 
 gtories of T. Adolphus Trollope." Round Table. 
 
 LA BEATA. A TUSCAN ROMEO AND JULIET. 
 
 " La Eeata as completely takes those familiar with its scene into the 
 life and moral atmosphere of Florence, as does ' The Vicar of Wakefield' 
 into the rural life of England before the days of railways and cheap jour 
 nalism. The streets, the dwellings, the people and incidents are so truly 
 described, the perspective is so correct, and the foreground so elaborate, 
 that, with the faithful local coloring and naive truth of the characters, we 
 seem, as we read, to be lost in a retrospective dream, the more so as 
 there is an utter absence of the sensational and rhetorical in the style, 
 which is that of direct and unpretending narrative." H. T. Tuckerman. 
 
 Price of each above, $1.75 in Cloth; or $1.50 in Paper Cover. 
 
 THE WOMAN IN BLACK. 
 
 A COMPANION TO THE "WOMAN IN WHITE." 
 
 IT IS ONE OF THE BEST NOVELS EVER PUBLISHED. 
 EVERYBODY IS READING AND RECOMMENDING IT. 
 
 Read what R. SheUon Mackenzie, Esq., the Literary Editor of Forney's Philadelphia 
 
 Daily Press, says of it : 
 
 "The Woman in Black is so much out of the ordinary track that we can heart 
 ily recommend it. The title is suggestive of mystery and grief, and the story is 
 that of a sharp, handsome, and ambitions woman, who has determined to obtain 
 a rich English noblemaa for a husband, and shrinks at nothing to attain that 
 end. The hero, though noble and wealthy, is himself a highly educated, 
 thoughtful man, and the greater the need, therefore, for the lady to be keen 
 witted. We do not choose to say how far she succeeds ; enough that the inci 
 dents are dramatically worked up, with unusual power, and that various phases 
 of English society, high and low, are graphically sketched, and poetical justice 
 is finally meted out to all. ' The Woman in Black' shows great power, not only 
 in drawing character, but in the difficult art of construction. We should judge 
 that it was written hy a lady. If so, she will soon be a formidable rival to Mrs. 
 Henry Wood and Miss M. A. Braddon. 
 
 *' Price $1.75 in Cloth ; or, $1.50 in Paper Cover. 
 
 Above books are for sale by all Booksellers. Copies of any or 
 all of the above books will be sent to any one, to any place, post 
 age pre-paid, on receipt of their price by the Publishers, 
 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 
 
 306 CHESTNUT STBEET, PHILADELPHIA, PA
 
 T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS, 
 
 PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS, 
 PHILADELPHIA, PA., 
 
 pleasure in calling the attention bf the public to their 
 Choice and Extensive Stock of Books, comprising a col 
 lection of the most popular and choice, in all styles 
 of binding, by all the favorite and standard 
 American and English Authors. 
 
 To Collectors of Libraries, or those desiring to form them. 
 
 Sfany who have the taste, and wish to form a Library, are deterred by fear of tha cost. 
 Co all such we would say, that a large numher of books may be furnished for even One 
 Hundred Dollars which, by a yearly increase of a small amount, will before long place 
 the purchaser in possession of. a Library in almost every branch of knowledge, and 
 afford satisfaction not only to the collector, but to all those who are so fortunate as to 
 possess his acquaintance. 
 
 For the convenience of Book buyers, and those seeking suitable Works for Presenta 
 tion, great care is taken in having a large and varied collection, and all the current 
 works of the day. Show counters and shelves, with an excellent selection of Standard, 
 Illustrated, and Illuminated works, varying in price to suit all buyers, are available to 
 those /isiting our establishment, where purchases may be made with facility, and the 
 time of the visitor greatly economized. Here may be seen not only books of the simplest 
 kind for children, but also exquisite works of art, of the most sumptuous character, 
 suitable alike to adorn the drawing-room table and the study of the connoisseur. 
 
 Our arrangements for supplying STANDARD AMERICAN BOOKS, suitable for Public Libra* 
 riee and Private Families, are complete, and our stock second to none in the country. 
 
 J8g- Catalogues are sent, on application, and great attention is paid to communication* 
 from the country, and the goods ordered carefully packed and forwarded with expedition 
 u receipt of orders accompanied with the cash. 
 
 To Booksellers and Librarians, 
 
 f. B. Peterson & Brothers issue New Books every month, comprising the most enter, 
 taining and absorbing works published, suitable for the Parlor, Library, Sitting Room, 
 Kailroad or Steamboat reading, by the best and most popular writers in the world. 
 
 Any person wanting books will find it to their advantage to send their orders to the 
 PUBLISHING HOUSE" OF T. B. PETERSON & BROS., 806 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, 
 Who have the largest stock in the country, and will supply them at very low prices for 
 cash. We have just issued a new and complete Catalogue and Wholesale Price Lists, 
 which we send gratuitously to any Bookseller or Librarians on application. 
 
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 Enclose ten, twenty, fifty, or a hundred dollars, or more, to ns in a letter, and writs 
 , what kind of books you wish, and on its receipt the books will be sent to you at once, , 
 per first express, or auy way you direct, with circulars, show bills, etc., gratis. 
 I Agents and Canvassers are requested to send for our Canvassers' Confidential Circular : 
 'containing instructions. Large wages can be made, as we supply our Agents at very > 
 !low rates. 
 
 Address all cash orders, retail or wholesale, to meet with prompt attention, to 
 
 T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS, 
 
 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Penna. 
 
 Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of retail price, to any address in the country. 
 
 All the NEW BOOKS are for sale at PETERSONS' Book Store, an socn as published. 
 
 ^- Publishers of "PETERSONS" DETECTOR and BANK NOTE LIST," a Business 
 Journal and valuable Advert! sin if medium. Price ? ISO a ve:ir, monluly ; or $3.0O % 
 fear. Keini-moiuUiy. Every Business u.m bUould subscribe at oiico.
 
 PETERSON'S MAGAZINE 
 
 THE CHEAPEST AND BEST IN THE WORLD 
 
 * 
 
 Splendid Offers for 187O. 
 
 s ^ 
 
 This popular Monthly Magazine gives more for the money than any in the world. 
 For 1870, it will be greatly improved. It will contain 
 
 ONE THOUSAND PAGES ! 
 
 FOURTEEN SPLENDID STEEL, PLATES! 
 
 TWELVE MAMMOTH FASHION PLATES! 
 TWELVE COLORED BERLIN PATTERNS! 
 NINE HUNDRED WOOD CUTS ! 
 
 TWENTY-FOUR PAGES OF MUSIC ! 
 All this will be given for only TWO DOLLARS a year, or a dollar less than 
 Magazines of the class of "Peterson." Its 
 
 THRILLING TALES AND NOVELETTES 
 
 Are the best published anywhere. All the most popular writers are employed to write 
 oriffinally for "Peterson." In 1870, in addition to its usual quantity of short stories, 
 FIVE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHT NOVELETS will be given, viz.: "The Prisoner 
 of the Bastile," by Mrs. Aun S. Stephens; "The Secret at Bartram's Holme," by 
 Mrs. Jane G. Austin; "Kathleen's Love Story," by the author of "Ethel's Sir 
 Launcelot;" "An Enemy's Revenge," by the author of "The Second Life;" "How 
 it Ended," by Frank Lee Benedict. 
 
 MAMMOTH COLORED FASHION PLATES 
 
 Ahead of all others. These plates are engraved on steel, TWICE THE USUAL SIZE, and 
 contain six figures. They will be superbly colored. Also, a pattern, from which a 
 Dress, Mantilla, or Child's Dress can be cut out, without the aid of a mantua-rnaker. 
 Also, several pages of Household and other receipts; in short, everything interest 
 ing to ladies. 
 
 SUPERB PREMIUM ENGRAVING! 
 
 To every person getting up a Club for 1870 will be sent GRATIS, a copy of our 
 new and splendid Mezzotint for framing, (size 24 inches by 16), "Our Father Vilio 
 Art in Heaven." This is the most desirable premium ever offered. For larg 
 Clubs, as will be seen below, an extra copy will be sent in addition. 
 
 TERMS Always in Advance: 
 
 One Copy, for one year $ 2 00 
 
 Two Copies, for one year 4 00 
 
 Three Copies, for one year 6 00 
 
 Four Copies, for one year 6 00 
 
 Five Copies, for one year, (and one to getter up of Club,) 8 00 
 
 Eight Copies, for one year, (and one to getter tip of Club,) 12 00 
 
 Fourteen Copies, for one year, (and one to getter up of Club,) 20 00 
 
 Address, Post-paid, 
 
 CHARLES J. PETERSON, 
 
 No. 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 49" Specimens sent to those wishing to get up Clubs.
 
 NEW BOOKS BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS. 
 
 RUBY GRAY'S STRATEGY, 
 
 BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS. 
 
 Price $1.75 in Cloth; or, $1.50 in Paper Cover. 
 
 Fourth Edition Now Heady. 
 
 THE CURSE OF GOLD, 
 
 BY MRS. ANN S, STEPHENS. 
 
 Price $1.75 in Cloth; or, $1.50 in Paper Cover. 
 Fifth Edition Now Heady, 
 
 BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS. 
 
 Price $1.75 in Cloth; or, $1,50 in Paper Cover. 
 
 T. B. Peterson & Brothers have just issued a new and uniform edition 
 of all the popular works written by Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. Their name* 
 ire as follows. Price of each, $1.75 in cloth ; or $1.50 in paper cover. 
 
 ANN S. STEPHENS' COMPLETE WORKS. 
 
 Ruby Gray's Strategy, $1 75 
 
 The Curse of Gold, 1 75 
 
 Mabel's Mistake, 1 75 
 
 Doubly False, 1 75 
 
 The Soldier's Orphans, 1 75 
 
 Silent Struggles, 1 75 
 
 The Rejected "Wife, $1 75 
 
 Mary Derwent, 1 75 
 
 The'Gold Brick, 1 75 
 
 Fashion and Famine, 1 75 
 
 The Old Homestead, 1 75 
 
 The Heiress, 1 75 
 
 The Wife's Secret, 1 75 
 
 Each of the above books are published in one large duodecimo volume, 
 Sound in cloth, at $1.75 each, or in paper cover, at $1.50 each. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers. Copies of any o't the above books will be 
 sent to any one, free of postage, on receipt of price by the Publishers, 
 
 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 
 
 No, 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
 
 THE BRIDE'S FATE. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO "THE CHANGED BRIDES.' 1 
 
 BY MRS. EMMA DJj. N. SOUTHWORTH. 
 
 THE CHANGED BRIDES, 
 
 BY MRS. EMMA D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 
 
 HOW HE WON HER. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO " FAIR PLAY." 
 
 BY MRS. EMMA DJ. N. SOUTHWORTH. 
 
 FAIR PLAY. 
 
 BY MRS. EMMA D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 
 
 MKS. SOUTH-WORTH'S COMPLETE WORKS. 
 The Bride's Fate, $1 75 The Lost Heiress, $1 75 
 
 The Changed Brides, 1 75 
 
 How He Won Her, 1 75 
 
 Fair Play, 1 75 
 
 The Prince of Darkness, 1 75 
 
 Fallen Pride, 1 75 
 
 The Widow's Son, 1 75 
 
 Bride of Llewellyn, 1 75 
 
 The Fortune Seeker, 1 75 
 
 Allworth Abbey, 1 75 
 
 The Bridal Eve, 1 75 
 
 The Fatal Marriage........ , 1 75 
 
 Love's Labor Won, 1 75 
 
 The Two Sisters, 1 75 
 
 The Three Beauties, 1 75 
 
 Vivia; or, the Secret of Power, 1 75 
 
 Lady of the Isle, 1 75 
 
 The Gipsy's Prophecy 1 75 
 
 The Missing Bride, 1 75 
 
 Wife's Victory, 1 75 
 
 The Mother-in-Law, 1 75 
 
 Haunted Homestead, 1 75 
 
 Retribution, 1 75 
 
 India ; Pearl of Pearl River,.. 1 75 
 Curse ot Clifton 1 75 
 
 Deserted Wife, ... 1 75 Discarded Daughter,..., 1 75 
 
 Each of the above books are published in one large duodecimo volume, 
 bound in cloth, at $1.75 each, or in paper cover, a,t $1.50 each. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers. Copies ot any of the above books will b 
 sent to any one, free ot postage, on receipt of t>rice by the Publishers. 
 
 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 
 
 No. 305 Chestnut Street. Philadelphia, Pa,
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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 APR 2 5 1983 
 
 Form L9-17w-8,'55(B3339s4)444
 
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 UC SOUTHERN REGIONA LIBRARY FAC , TV 
 
 
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