SHER5URNE 
 
 AMANDA M.DOUGLAS
 
 
 d 7 
 
 Jo 
 
 (T
 
 UNiV. OF 
 
 . L08
 
 Sherburne 
 House 
 
 AMANDA M. DOUGLAS 
 Jff 
 
 New York 
 Dodd, Mead and Company
 
 Copyright, 1892, by DODD, MEAD & COMPANY.
 
 TO MY YOUNG COUSIN 
 HELEN DOUGLAS BINGHAM 
 
 " But would we learn the heart's full scope, 
 
 Which we are hourly wronging ; 
 Our lives must climb from hope to hope, 
 And realize our longing." 
 
 A. M. D. 
 NEWARK, 1892. 
 
 2129191

 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A MIDSUMMER PLAY i 
 
 II. THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST 15. 
 
 III. A BATTLE WITH DESTINY 28 
 
 IV. How DELL FOUGHT IT OUT -43 
 
 V. MUST THIS BE HOME? 54 
 
 VI. NOT QUITE A BARBARIAN 71 
 
 VII. STANDING UP TO THE MARK 85 
 
 VIII. GILDED PRISON BARS 100 
 
 IX. BREAD EATEN IN SECRET 116 
 
 X. THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH . . . .135 
 
 XI. BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS 149 
 
 XII. IN THE OLD HOME ONCE MORE 167 
 
 XIII. A GRAVE QUESTION 180 
 
 XIV. THE MEASURE OF COURAGE 196 
 
 XV. IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 211 
 
 XVI. GATHERING TANGLED THREADS 226 
 
 XVII. A NEW ATMOSPHERE . 241 
 
 XVIII. THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL 258
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGH 
 
 XIX. THE TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN . . 273 
 
 XX. LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES 289 
 
 XXI. THE DUTY NEAREST 303 
 
 XXII. PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE 315 
 
 XXIII. As YE FORGIVE 326 
 
 XXIV. A RED LETTER DAY 338
 
 Sherburne House. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAY. 
 
 THEY were having a circus of the grandest kind in 
 Murray's Row. At least that was what the boys called 
 it. Dell Murray had cried a little and gone into a " tem- 
 per," insisting it should be a matinee. Probably the affair 
 would have ended in a row, and the children have lost 
 their great pleasure, but for Tessy Murray, who was 
 always a kind of peace-maker or umpire, and had such 
 a sweet, persuasive way. 
 
 " Let them have animals and standing on their heads 
 and wild Indians," said Tessy. "That'll be the circus 
 part. And then we girls will have a reg'lar \oveley mat- 
 \nay. And you shall do Cinderella. And maybe 
 mother'll come put and see you." 
 
 A little of the brogue came natural to Tessy, though 
 the public school, that great machine with its almost 
 Procrustean bed, snipped off the odds and ends of nation- 
 alities. But when cunning little Tessy wanted to be par- 
 ticularly coaxing, she had a soft, lingering way of 
 stretching out " love/<?y." 
 
 She carried the day for both sides. She coaxed Con 
 to add matinee to the cards and begin it with a big M ; 
 though he was a little afraid the boys would laugh at 
 him. 
 
 l
 
 2 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 A week before Dell had gone to a regular matinee. A 
 neighbor, for whom she did errands and swept the side- 
 walk, had taken her to see Cinderella. Dell knew the 
 story by heart, but such a godmother, such fairy apparel, 
 such a palace and prince, made amends for much sitting 
 in the ashes. 
 
 "We'll save up our money," she confided privately to 
 Tessy, " and go our own very selves. It's just gorgeous ! 
 And such music! And oh, such dancing! I dream of 
 it just as I am going to sleep, and it floats away off." 
 
 Perhaps Dell had been rather demoralized the whole 
 week from the unwonted indulgence, and the plan for re- 
 peating it under the old apple-tree. Mrs. Murray had 
 been tried enough with the "colleens." Any other 
 woman would liave made a point of heroic discipline. 
 But Densie Murray was the largest-hearted, sweetest- 
 tempered, tenderest-natured woman in all New York. I 
 am not sure her match could be found anywhere. And 
 then Dell was not her own child. That might have ex- 
 cused her for being a little sharped, but instead it made 
 her more lenient. She could always see just how Dell's 
 mother had looked up at her with dying eyes, full of 
 heaven's own trust; and being a good, conscientious, 
 rather superstitious woman, she felt quite sure she should 
 confront the questioning glance of the eyes in that other 
 world, and she wanted to be able to meet them unshrink- 
 ingly. 
 
 However, to-day Dell had worked like a Trojan. The 
 sweeping and scrubbing had been done with a vim, well 
 done, too. Oh, if you had seen how spick-and-span 
 everything was ! The children, too, had been scrubbed 
 and dressed clean. Indeed, all Murray's Row was in a 
 state of wonderful tidiness. For one thing there had 
 been a drenching Shower the previous evening, and the 
 pure air and sun were doing their best. Murray's Row 
 was very respectable indeed, quite different from the
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAY. 3 
 
 tenement rows of to-day. It was but a bit above Cen- 
 tral Park, and had even then begun to look queer among 
 the aristocratic houses. 
 
 Con Murray with the good trade of a bricklayer, and 
 a new wife, had emigrated sixteen years before this 
 period. With his little money he had bought some 
 rather wild land, given over to goats and squatters, cows, 
 pigs, geese, and chickens. But the march of civiliza- 
 tion had swept away the ubiquitous goat and the pro- 
 cessions of geese with the patriarch at their head. Con 
 worked steadily at his trade, and built himself a cabin, 
 tilling his " farrum " by odd spells. Con had come full 
 grown, too late for the public school ; but he was adapt- 
 ive, and he honored the ways of the country that had 
 adopted him. When the family outgrew the cabin he 
 built a snug two-story brick house, and, as he could save 
 a little money, erected others. Now there were four be- 
 sides his own, the corner one. Each had a pretty yard 
 and was tenanted by thrifty, tidy people, two or three of 
 whom they had known in the old country. True, there 
 were no end of children, and the march of civilization 
 was now fain to sweep away Murray's Row, but Con had 
 a long head. Beside, he was doing a thriving business, 
 and the land was a pretty bit of fortune in itself. 
 
 It was so bright a spot that people, driving by, often 
 went more slowly to enjoy it. The peaches, pears, and 
 the lovely old, wide-spreading apple-tree gave a wealth 
 of bloom. Later there was no end of roses, carnations, 
 sweetwilliams, dahlias, and, until hard frost came, great 
 mounds of chrysanthemums. 
 
 The " show " was under the old apple-tree. This spot 
 was given over to the children by common consent. All 
 the Row were made welcome on Saturday afternoon. 
 
 Of the Murrays properthere were seven. Con, junior, 
 was a fine blue-eyed lad, past fourteen, with an ambi- 
 tion to enter the Free Acaclemv, as it was first christened.
 
 4 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Tessy was twelve, Jamsie next, and so onto Laddie, who 
 lay out in the hammock kicking up his chubby bare feet 
 and crowing. It had passed into a proverb that the 
 Murray babies were good and healthy. They lived out 
 of doors in the summer. They had plenty of milk and 
 the best bread in the city. Con, senior, was quite sure 
 of that. 
 
 As for the " naybur " children, space would fail me to- 
 do them justice. Playing in the Murrays' yard was their 
 acme of delight. When one was particularly obstrep- 
 erous, Mrs. Murray said : 
 
 " Ye' 11 not be allowed in for a whole week," and the 
 lad glanced through the pickets with large, longing 
 eyes. There never was a more gentle-spoken woman, 
 nor one more readily obeyed. 
 
 " Ye do be havin' some kind of bewitchment wid ye,'* 
 declared old Mrs. McCray, who was grandmother to the 
 flock in the last house. 
 
 Dell had desired a kind of artistic entertainment. But 
 she had already learned that concessions had to be al- 
 lowed to the sterner sex. The boys laughed and made 
 all manner of fun. Catch them taking part in a " gals' ' ' 
 show. And a circus was the regulation entertainment. 
 Hadn't they always had a circus? 
 
 So they opened with three famous acrobats, who 
 walked around on their hands with their feet in the air, 
 while old Mrs. McCray shrieked and said : "I do be 
 afraid their brains' 11 run down in their heads." There 
 were some remarkable feats on the trapeze that depended 
 from a good stout limb of the tree. There was a clown 
 in striped garments, who shot off old witticisms adorned 
 with youthful freshness. There were some comic songs 
 of the day, an Irish recitation of Paddy the Piper. Then 
 followed the grand spectacular performance of Cinder- 
 ella, which had to be viewed largely with the eye of 
 faith. There was no Prince to dance with Cinderella
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAY. 5 
 
 she would have none of the street jigs or breakdown ; 
 but Tessy made a very fair godmother, and the old 
 ragged gown fell off at a touch of the wand, and dis- 
 closed Dell in one of rather faded pale blue, with a wide 
 pink sash that had seen several washings. There was a 
 band, consisting of harmonica, flageolet, and clappers. 
 Dell was going through with some very graceful evolu- 
 tions. Grandmother McCray nodded to the rhythm, 
 and her wide cap-ruffle flapped to and fro. A few other 
 women sat sewing or knitting and applauded with a 
 "See that now! " "Ah, but it's a fine show, and all 
 made up of thimselves ! " 
 
 A coupe came slowly up the avenue and halted. It 
 contained two persons besides the driver. A tall, spare, 
 dignified-looking man, and a woman of sixty or there- 
 abouts, elegantly attired in a fine grey serge, with silken 
 trimmings edged with black thread lace. Her bonnet 
 was of black lace with a few rich purple flowers. Her 
 gloves fitted exquisitely, her fan and satchel were expen- 
 sive, and there was about her the unmistakable air of 
 being at home amid luxury, an abhorrence of vulgar 
 commonness that curled her lip, and deepened the dis- 
 dainful lines in her face, as she caught sight of the 
 crowd of barefooted and rather disheveled children, and 
 the old Irish woman with a decidedly snub nose and the 
 wide cap border. 
 
 " Is this Murray's Row ? " sang out the driver. 
 
 " Ye's can bet yer head it is," replied a shock-headed 
 boy nearest the fence. 
 
 " Which is Mr. Murray's? " 
 
 "The corner, sure." 
 
 Dell was dancing at the King's Ball. She wanted 
 none of the shuffling heel-and-toe business. Her brain 
 was full of graceful evolutions, and she had a secret 
 misgiving that her practice did not attain to the bewild- 
 ering theory, although one of the boys sang :
 
 6 SHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 " She's gay and she's airy, 
 And light as a fairy." 
 
 But she was listening to the delicious strains of the or- 
 chestra and executing a marvelous pas seul with her bare 
 arms up in the air, and her brown-red hair flying about. 
 Her dress was decidedly short, her boots generously 
 large. Mrs. Murray bought them for the children to 
 grow into, but they oftener wore out first. There was a 
 long length of dingy stocking that had once been blue. 
 
 There are first glances that stamp like or dislike almost 
 ineffaceably on the beholder. As Miss Sherburne 
 leaned forward a trifle, with an expression of supercil- 
 ious contempt, Dell turned and really stared in an in- 
 solent sort of way, and brought down her heel with an 
 emphasis of bravado. Why fate should have directed 
 this crossing of glances, this sharp settling of aversion, 
 was one of the unsolved mysteries. The girl's angry 
 eyes shot back defiance, and she danced the more vigor- 
 ously. 
 
 Perhaps I had better describe Deil, as she appeared 
 to Miss Sherburne that June afternoon. A girl of thir- 
 teen, running largely to arms and legs, yet with a plump 
 body and rather full face, flushed with the exertion 
 daring, aggressive. A somewhat wide mouth that shut 
 with dimples in the corners, but unfortunately it was not 
 closed then. Later she came to know the force of reso- 
 lution Dell could shut into it. There was a broad, cleft 
 chin, an ordinary nose, a round, full forehead, with fine 
 brows that gave it decisive character. A thick mop of 
 curly hair that had not shed its childhood's gold, \v;is in 
 process of growing out, and presented the appearance of 
 a tawny mane with faded streaks. The eyes were pecul- 
 iar. In repose a lovely dark, soft, velvety brown, with 
 curious curling lashes that made a swift dazzle when she 
 glanced up. Her complexion was naturally fair, but now 
 she was tanned to a gypsy brilliance.
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAY. 7 
 
 The coupe turned the corner and paused before the 
 door. 
 
 " Hi ! " cried Jem Dooley, who had been following it 
 with his eyes. Ain't they swell folks ! Grand dooks, 
 in a coach of state ! What you s'pose they want with 
 yer mother, Con ? " 
 
 Con Murray peered around the corner of the house. 
 The two passengers were alighting. 
 
 " How sh'd I know? Maybe they just don't. Mor'n 
 likely it's some one to see father 'bout a new house or 
 something ! " 
 
 Curious eyes studied the horses that stood switching 
 the tlies under the shade of the great maple. Nothing 
 happened. The matinee audience resumed their watch- 
 ing of Cinderella, who finished her steps and postures 
 with a grace that brought rounds of applause. 
 
 Be merry while you can, Dell. You will never dance 
 with such a light heart again. There will never be such 
 a bit of glamour as this old apple-tree, the radiant blue- 
 ness of tliC'Sky, and the quivering sunshine all about you, 
 like the waves of a golden sea. And the gypsy group 
 of children, over whom you reign a sort of queen, the 
 young, round-eyed mother with her baby in her arms, 
 the elderly women who are sunning themselves and im- 
 agining a " bit of ould Ireland," the soft shadows here 
 and there, the gay hearts, laughing eyes, not over critical 
 tastes in simple pleasures, the boundless possibilities, the 
 temper of childhood in its freemasonry of give and take, 
 the sense of unalloyed enjoyment, of unstinted praise 
 \\ ill never be yours in this fashion again. For Fate and 
 Fortune have stretched out their long, relentless fingers 
 to grasp you, and you cannot elude them. What they 
 demand is your future from this time out. 
 
 Dell sat down and fanned herself 'with her dress skirt. 
 The boys, with some shawls and a water-proof, were 
 being transformed into a trained elephant.
 
 8 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "Ah, dear," said Granny McCray, with the sort of 
 caressing intonation of an Irishwoman; "ah, dear.it 
 was jist ilegant ! Sure if ye were out Midsummer Ave 
 ye'd see the little people in the ring, and yer mother had 
 a look feeble and wan as she was of that strange 
 country that's nayther heaven nor earth the saints rist 
 us ! For whoever' s been there, jist wan time, carries 
 the mark." 
 
 Mrs. Murray had gone indoors to attend to some 
 household duties. She answered the driver's summons. 
 The lady beckoned her to the side of the coupe, with an 
 authoritative gesture. Mrs. Murray came, with the 
 courtesy of old-world deference. 
 
 " Is Mr. Constantine Murray at home?" Miss Sher- 
 burne did not suppose that possible, but she recognized 
 the head of the house. 
 
 " No, mem. He's my husband. Would you be want- 
 ing to see him ? " 
 
 " Did a person die at this house some four years ago ? " 
 the lady questioned sharply, quite certain she would be 
 able to detect any attempted falsehood. 
 
 " Ah, yes, mem. Maybe that was poor Mrs. Sher- 
 burne. Perhaps you may be some of her husband's 
 kin, that she wrote to ?" 
 
 The lady gave a slight, impatient wave of the hand. 
 
 " Did she do you know whether she has any issue 
 alive ?" in a rather peremptory manner. 
 
 Mrs. Murray stared. "Alive, is it? Perhaps you are 
 meanin' the little girl. She gev her to me, if no one 
 ever came to claim her. And sure she's been like one 
 of my own. A nice, strong, bright slip of a girl, with a 
 pleasant temper and a warm heart. Would you be 
 wanting to see her? " 
 
 The lady drew a long vexed breath. She had not 
 wanted so much information, so much certainty dashed 
 into her very face. Then she glanced at her compan-
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAT. 9 
 
 ion. She could not shirk her duty, unpleasant as it 
 was. 
 
 " I suppose we had better alight." 
 
 The driver opened the door. The gentleman assisted 
 her as if he might be handing out a princess. 
 
 "About how long shall I say half an hour?" he 
 asked, as the driver stood awaiting orders. 
 
 " Half an hour ? " incredulously. 
 
 "Yes, you will need that time, at least. Call for us 
 an half an hour ; " to the driver. 
 
 Then he escorted the lady, with stately courtesy, up 
 the flower-bordered path. 
 
 Mrs. Murray ushered them into her orderly parlor. 
 The windows had flowing white drapery. There was a 
 parlor suite in maroon reps ; a centre table holding on 
 its marble top a basket of wax fruit, that had filled her 
 cup with joy when Con brought it home to her at Christ- 
 inas. There were vases of artificial flowers on the man- 
 tel, photographs of the children, and several chromes 
 rather well chosen. 
 
 When they were seated the gentleman took out a slip 
 of memorandum. 
 
 " A Mrs. Sherburne came to America four years ago, 
 about the middle of April, bringing with her a little girl, 
 then nine years of age, a Miss Margaret Murray accom- 
 panying her " 
 
 "That's my husband's sister. She's married and 
 lives over on the East side, where her husband keeps a 
 grocery. You see, the poor thing was far gone in con- 
 sumption, but the doctor thought a sea voyage might set 
 her up. And Maggie did for her on the steamer, and 
 grew fond of her and the child. The poor thing had no 
 home to go to, and no friends, not but what she had 
 money enough to pay her way. Con that's my hus- 
 band went down to give Maggie welcome in a strange 
 country, and when he heard the story and saw the poor
 
 10 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 body, who looked like a ghost, having been sick all the 
 passage, his big, tender heart opened at once, and he 
 brought her here. She was very ill for several weeks, 
 then she began to mend. She counted so on getting 
 well. Then she wrote to her husband's people. She 
 was English born and bred, and a pretty-spoken woman, 
 with a sweet face, for all it was so thin and wan. Her 
 husband, it seems, had died in England, but his people 
 lived here, and there was some property coming to the 
 W child. I don't just remember, "with a line of perplexity 
 across her brow. 
 
 "And she died " annotated the gentleman. 
 
 More than once Miss Sherburrre had made a gebture 
 with her hand to check the soft, flowing speech, but 
 Mrs. Murray continued, unheeding : 
 
 " Yes. Con had no faith in her improvement, though 
 she went around' out of doors and' enjoyed the flowers 
 and the childer. But she was main worried about the 
 letter. Ami one morning, near the last of May, Maggie 
 was combing her hair such beautiful long golden hair, 
 rare to see when- she. threw up her arms sudden-like 
 and uttered a wild cry. I ran in to see, and the blood 
 wa-s trickling all over her white gown. ' Oh,' sa-ys she, 
 ' be good' to my little girl ! I trust her to you just as. if 
 you were my sister. Be good to her until her father's 
 people send for her, as they must sometime.' Then she 
 looked over at the far corner of the room, a lovely light 
 breaking in her face, and cried with a strange joy ' I'm 
 coming to you, my darling ' ; then her head dropped on 
 Maggie's bosom a-nd- she was- gone." 
 
 " Ami the- Intle girl "said the gentleman suggest- 
 ively, touched by the simple recital. 
 
 " Ah, it was a> hard, time for her. But I've tried to 
 keep my word. She's been like one of my own." 
 
 " Were there no- papers of any kind ? " 
 
 "Papers-, is it? 1 Yes, a whole boxful. There's her
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAY. 11 
 
 marriage lines and wedding ring and trinkets and letters. 
 Con has them in the safe at the office. And her clothes 
 are in a trunk upstairs. She was a real lady and had 
 lovely things. And there was some money. After she 
 was buried Con put that in the bank, for the little girl. 
 He wouldn't have a penny of it spent. Maggie can tell 
 you more of her story. I've had so many things to look 
 after, and babies." 
 
 " Then we cannot have the papers? Where is your 
 husband ? We will go to him at once." 
 
 " Sure it would be hunting a needle in the hay. He's 
 paying off the men at different buildings. And he won't 
 be home until six." 
 
 " How extremely annoying ! " lamented the lady. 
 
 " Sure," said Mrs. Murray, with unconscious sarcasm, 
 " since you've waited four years or more, a few hours 
 cannot matter. You can see Corr this evening." 
 
 " We should not have waited four years," replied Miss 
 Sherburne, with asperity, "but the letter was mislaid 
 to our great regret." 
 
 "We might drive over and see this< this sister," re- 
 marked the gentleman. 
 
 " Maggie will tell you the- whole 1 story." 
 
 " We know a great deal that she cannot tell us," said 
 Miss Sherburne shortly. 
 
 " We might see the child," suggested Mf. Whitting- 
 ham. 
 
 "I'll call her in a bit." Mrs. Murray, flashed out of 
 the dbor and tripped through the hall to the large back 
 porch. Barney Blake was drinking out of' the cocoanut 
 dipper. 
 
 "Run, Barney, and tell Dell I want her this minute. 
 She can come back to the frolic." 
 
 Dell came flying down the path, with an apprehensive 
 look in her eyes. 
 
 " Come in and be red up a bit. Brush your hair, and
 
 12 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 I'll run for your pink gingham. There's some one to 
 see you." 
 
 " That woman in the carriage, is it?" 
 
 " I do not know whether it is your father's people, but 
 it is about that. Your mother knew they would come 
 quick, dear." 
 
 But Dell had not moved a muscle when Mrs. Murray 
 returned. 
 
 "Ah, dear," began the soft, persuasive Irish voice 
 that Con said could coax the heart out of a grindstone, 
 " ah, dear, you wouldn't want to shame me ! It's me 
 they'd blame for not having you tidy and nice-mannered 
 and your mother a real lady. You'll be sweet now, 
 for my sake and Con's." 
 
 She unbuttoned her faded dress and slipped the other 
 over her head. She was very deft at dressing the chil- 
 dren. Then, while Dell reluctantly changed shoes and 
 stockings, Mrs. Murray brushed her hair. 
 
 " I don't want them to call me a slattern," she said. 
 " People don't understand how much more fun children 
 have in old clothes." 
 
 Against her will, manipulated by the soft, irresistible 
 hands, Dell was transformed into tidiness. True, her 
 face was still flushed, and the light in her eyes was not 
 an attractive one ; the eager, sunny joy had vanished. 
 At this period Dell was not as handsome a child as her 
 dying mother had left, or as she might be in years to 
 come. And just now there was a bitter protest seething 
 in her soul, not so much from a thought of past neglect 
 as a fear of the future. 
 
 " This is the child," announced Mrs. Murray. " She's 
 gone by our name, and been like our very own. She's 
 a nice, bright, truthful child, quick at her lessons, and 
 handy in many ways. Next year'll see her in the grad- 
 uating class and she's ready for her examinations. 
 Con's a great hand for learning."
 
 A MIDSUMMER PLAY. 13 
 
 Dell glanced straight across at Miss Sherburne defi- 
 antly, her lips compressed, her nose drawn down haugh- 
 tily. The brown eyes shone with a crystal gleam. Child 
 as she was, a race antagonism developed in an instant. 
 
 Miss Sherburne glanced her over superciliously. If a 
 look could have extinguished her, the heiress of Sher- 
 burne House would have vanished from this mundane 
 sphere. 
 
 " She doesn't seem to resemble her father's family," 
 said Mr. Whittingham, in an effort to break the awkward 
 silence. 
 
 "Not at all ; not at all. And Mrs. Murray we shall 
 insist upon the most exact agreement with what we 
 already know. We have sent to England and unearthed 
 all the facts of the case that is, if the mother has not 
 deceived any one." 
 
 Mrs. Murray blushed a distressful scarlet. "Ah," 
 said she in her soft, lingering tone, " I'm a mother my- 
 self. I know a little about a mother's love." 
 
 "You do not know the circumstances, nor how much 
 there was at stake," rejoined * the visitor sharply. "A 
 woman who will scheme in one way will not hesitate to 
 scheme in another. I suppose she looks like her 
 mother ? " 
 
 Densie Murray's cheeks burned with indignation. 
 " Her mother had been very handsome I'm that sure, 
 and she had the finest skin, the most beautiful golden 
 hair you ever saw ! " 
 
 " Which is very apt to turn red in the next generation. 
 Well, where can we find this person who came over with 
 her? " and the lady rose tall, dignified, austere looking. 
 
 " Maggie ? She is Mrs. Warden, and lives on Second 
 Avenue. And you can depend upon her word. I'm 
 sure we would have no interest in telling a wrong story " 
 rather indignantly. 
 
 "About the papers?" questioned Mr. Whittingham.
 
 14 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " I suppose we cannot get at them to-night, more is the 
 pity. Let us see will you ask Mr. Murray to call at the 
 Hotel say at three to-morrow?" glancing at his com- 
 panion. " I will give you our address." 
 
 They both walked to the door, the lady taking no 
 further notice of Dell, who stood rigid and resolute. 
 The sleeping lion had never been roused before. 
 
 "Dell, dear!" Mrs. Murray had dismissed her 
 guests, and now took the child in her arms. 
 
 " Do they want me? Are they my papa's people? 
 Well, 1 hate them ! I hate her, that woman ! And they 
 shall never take me away from you, never ! " and Dell 
 stamped her foot passionately on the floor, while a hard, 
 dry sob tore its way up from her inmost heart. 
 
 "There, there, mavourneen, don't begin to worry. 
 They may not want you at all. Sometimes, in the old 
 country, I've known lots of trouble about entails and all 
 that, and estates that couldn't be settled until everybody 
 was accounted for," and Mrs. Murray drew a long 
 breath, swamped among legal possibilities. " There, 
 run and finish your play." 
 
 " I never will go with that woman. If they take me, 
 I'll run away ! And if you won't have me, I'll drown 
 myself in the river." 
 
 " Have you? We will always have you, my darling. 
 It would break Con's heart to give you up. But see, 
 dear, it's getting the fag end of the afternoon, and the 
 childer will soon have to go, and there'll be all the 
 things to put away. You needn't take off your pretty 
 pink gown. Run out, and have a bit of fun to even 
 up your temper. Come, dear. I dare say it will all go 
 right." 
 
 She kissed the hot brow, her own tender tears soften- 
 ing the passionate fever of tumult. Dell clung to her as 
 if she could not, dared not let her go. Some awful, 
 unlooked-for possibility darkened the future.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 
 
 THE delight had gone out of all things for Dell. Poov 
 Cinderella stood in a worse plight than her prototype. 
 The rags were not so bad at midnight, when she could 
 crawl back to her chimney-corner and ashes. But if the 
 friendly corner had vanished? 
 
 " You don't do nothin' as ye did afore," protested 
 Teddy O'Brien. " Ye're so fine in yer best pink gown, 
 ye put on frills, ye do that! I'm tired o' gals' play! 
 Boys, let us have a rousin' Injun round-up ! 
 
 Rousing it was. Such a shriek of war-whoops ! The 
 girls ran a little, but they fell an easy prey to their fierce 
 Indian captors, who were rather disgusted at such a pas- 
 sive victory, and began to berate them. Mrs. Murray 
 rang the bell, which was a signal for them to throw down 
 their arms and disperse. 
 
 "What did those big bugs want o' you?" asked Con 
 gruffly, as they were bringing in die stage properties. 
 
 Dell glanced at him wild-eyed. " I don't quite 
 know," she made answer. " And I hate them." 
 
 Tessy, Dell, and some of the girls were gathering the 
 stools, shawls, and playthings. They lingered at the 
 gate to talk over the gossip, and wondered a little why 
 Dell was called in and dressed up. The boys had to 
 brush and wash their heads rejoiced in the O'Reilly cut, 
 a little longer than the more recent machine invention. 
 The baby and the two youngest had their suppers of 
 bread and milk and were put to bed. Then the table 
 was set in readiness for Con ; Dell managing between 
 whiles to explain the interview. 
 15
 
 16 SHERBURKE HOUSE. 
 
 " But we really do not know anything for certain," 
 said Mrs. Murray. " Don't talk of it outside." 
 
 Con came home, kissed them all round, washed up, 
 and put on some fresh garments. Then they had their 
 supper and tried to be merry as usual, but it was a dis- 
 mal failure. 
 
 "Whom did mother scold?" Con glanced around, 
 with a twinkle in his eye. 
 
 "There was no one scolded," replied Densie. 
 "They've had a circus, and they've been the best chil- 
 dren in the world. But something uncommon has hap- 
 pened, and after supper we must go over to Maggie's. 
 I'll tell you on the way." 
 
 Tessy and Dell cleared away the tea-things. Con, 
 in virtue of his big-boyhood, was allowed an hour out of 
 doors on the block, and he rarely broke his parole. The 
 others were put to bed presently, then Dell and Tessy 
 settled themselves on the front doorstep, and speculated 
 as to who the two visitors could have been. 
 
 "The man wasn't so hard and cross, and he looked 
 at me curious like," and Dell frowned, " but he made 
 me feel kind of shriveled up, like an autumn wind. 
 Papa did not have any brothers, but oh," with a sharp 
 cry of fear, " I am afraid she .was his sister who was so 
 very angry when he married mamma." 
 
 " But maybe they will not want you. O Dell, I 
 couldn't let you go away ! " and the two girls huddled 
 closer together. 
 
 As they talked, Dell tried to recall her own mother 
 more distinctly. Her tall, slim figure, her cloud of 
 golden hair, her enchanting music, the sweet, sad face, 
 and the tender love. A feeling of remorse seized her 
 she had forgotten so much. She had been so happy, 
 so full of study and play and interest in the babies and 
 everything. Con and Densie had been the tenderest of 
 parents to her, and comforted her in that sad time. Her
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 17 
 
 own papa she scarcely remembered. Her associations 
 clustered more about his picture, and her mother's remi- 
 niscences of him. The journey across the ocean, the ill- 
 ness and death seemed even now more like a vivid dream 
 than any actual occurrence. That her mother had come 
 to America to learn something about her father's people 
 she knew, but the Murray s had never referred to a pos- 
 sible fortune. Indeed, 'as the answer to her letter had 
 never come, they fancied the poor wife had been de- 
 ceived in her husband's account of himself. Such cases 
 were not uncommon. Perhaps if Dell had been usually 
 beautiful or had carried about with her some distinguish- 
 ing marks that we are wont to ascribe to good birth, she 
 might have aroused a firmer belief in the possibilities of 
 fortune. 
 
 " And in case no one ever does come to claim her 
 she'll have to take the common everyday life," said 
 sensible Con Murray. " It will be no kindness to fill her 
 head with dreams that can never come true. We'll bring 
 her up like one of our own, and we'll never miss the 
 bite and sup and the love. Sure, Densie, there's as 
 much love in our hearts to-day as when little Con was 
 born, and it's been divided many a time since. It's 
 like cutting flowers you have new ones, and more and 
 more sweetness all the time. The Lord's been rare good 
 to us in this New World, and sure we ought to be good 
 to the little child he sets on our very doorstep." 
 
 And bountifully good they had been. The love and 
 interest had diverted her thoughts from the lonely past, 
 and made it seem more dream-like. Dell attached her- 
 self warmly to her new friends. There awoke a wider, 
 more vital eagerness in her soul. Only very morbid 
 childhood revels in sadness. There was too much fun 
 and incident among the Murrays to allow of introspec- 
 tion. And their religious faith was of the simplest order, 
 which not unfrequently leads to the highest rules of con-
 
 18 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 duct in many things. Perhaps her four years' associa- 
 tion with the Murrays was the best thing that could have 
 happened to Dell after her rather intense and secluded 
 life with her mother. 
 
 Con came back and chaffed the girls awhile, then un- 
 gallantly retired to bed. Tessy grew drowsy. They 
 shut the door .and Tessy dropped on the sofa, but Dell 
 sat wide-eyed, waiting for a word out of that dreaded 
 future, and fortifying herself into high resolves. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Murray returned, having put in the 
 marketing on the way home. Dell sprang up with pas- 
 sionate eagerness. 
 
 " Oh, what did Aunt Maggie say ? " she cried. " Did 
 that dreadful woman go to her? But they shall never, 
 never take me away. Oh, papa Murray, you will not 
 let me go ! " 
 
 " My dear, my dear ! " Con kissed her, with tears in 
 his eyes. " That dreadful woman as you call her is your 
 father's aunt, your grandfather's sister. And there is a 
 good deal about it and a big fortune. I haven't it all 
 straight m my own miud, but I shall hear to-morrow. 
 Oh, my darling, we shall always love you, never fear 
 about that. And now, colleen, run to bed." 
 
 Dell was soon asleep, and, wlien she awoke in the 
 magnificent morning, she could not believe God would 
 let anything come to make her miserable. The three 
 girls were dressed in white and wended their way to 
 Sunday School, the Murrays being Protestants. The 
 boys had gone on ahead. It was the opinion of the 
 neighborhood that such a fine flock was rarely seen. 
 
 Then Con and Densie talked over the strange nnd 
 totally unlooked-for outcome of Dell's fortune. Mag- 
 gie Warden had been much shrewder than Mrs. Mur- 
 ray, and learned more concerning the visitors. But 
 Con was so dazed by the unusual turn of affairs that he 
 thought it wise to go and have a little talk with his part-
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 19 
 
 ner, Mr. Cranston, and be sure that it was his duty to 
 deliver up these important papers. So, immediately 
 after dinner, he started. 
 
 Certainly Constantine Murray \vas a fine-looking man 
 as he walked with his firm step over to the avenue. He 
 was now about thirty-seven, an inch or so under six feet, 
 well filled out, with a strong decisive sort of manliness 
 that won favor at once. People found him trusty, a man 
 of his word. His honest, rather humorous face, with its 
 deep Irish blue eyes and almosl blue black hair, was 
 attractive. Murray's Row and the burthen of seven 
 children, beside the stranger within his gates, sat lightly 
 upon him. Giving Dell food and shelter and love was 
 an easy matter compared with giving her up. 
 
 His partner was a good deal interested in the story. 
 He had seen the little girl, and now he was touched 
 by the great, fatherly heart of the man he had always 
 admired for his uprightness and business capacity. 
 
 " It's rather fortunate that you had not the papers in 
 the house," commented Cranston. "You will have an 
 opportunity to learn a little more about the matter. I 
 suppose there can be no trickery in the case, but it 
 is queer that they have delayed so long to claim her. 
 Perhaps they only want possession of the documents." 
 
 "Ah, if that was all! But she'll fight against going 
 aw.iy, and it'll be like a death in the family to us. For 
 you see she's just like our own." 
 
 " But if these are really her father's relatives they 
 will have the best right to her. Find out what you 
 can, and be sure they are reliable. And if you are in 
 need of a witness or friend, I'm your man, Con. We 
 will talk it over to-morrow morning before you take the 
 final step." 
 
 "Thank you," said Con. But he went his way with a 
 heavy heart. 
 
 It was years before he was to know all the story,
 
 20 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 but it is best to relate it here. The Sherburnes were 
 an old, aristocratic Virginian family. For generations 
 Sherburne House had been a bort of county landmark. 
 There had been several men of note in it, all were 
 handsome, high-spirited, and chivalrous." Of the branch 
 left in the old homestead, Edward Carrick Sherburne 
 had married an heiress, a Miss Lyndell, and to them 
 were born five daughters, two dying in infancy, and then 
 the coveted son. . 
 
 This filled Grandfather Sherburne' s heart with joy. 
 The lad throve finely. The old gentleman willed him 
 Sherburne House and the estate, also some mineral lands 
 in a distant county ; subject to his father's right and use 
 while he should live, and charged also with the mainte- 
 nance of his only single daughter, Miss Aurelia. 
 
 Mrs. Sherburne had died while her boy was still in his 
 infancy. Miss Aurelia kept the house, matronized the 
 daughters, married the eldest one successfully, who, in 
 turn, performed the same kind offices for her sisters. 
 Old Mr. Sherburne died soon after Ned entered college. 
 The heir, beyond a peradventure, of such a handsome 
 estate could not fail of winning his way into notice and 
 admiration. He was manly and attractive, had many 
 good qualities and few bad ones. He graduated from 
 Harvard in very fair standing, and went at once to New- 
 port, where his eldest sister, Mrs. Beaumanoir, was 
 entertaining with true Southern hospitality and not a 
 little exclusiveness. 
 
 She had made some plans for her brother. A certain 
 young lady, with a fortune in her own right, whose 
 mother, now dead, had been a connection of the Beau- 
 manoir family, was selected, and she cautiously threw 
 the young people together. 
 
 Judge Varick had married a second time, a pretty 
 young girl, almost as blooming as Miss Isabel. There 
 were three younger children two picturesque little
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 21 
 
 girls. For these the mother had secured an English 
 governess while abroad the preceding year, the daughter 
 of a clergyman, whose refined manners and pleasant 
 companionship had quite charmed her. 
 
 Honora Trenholme's home was dull, and in an un- 
 interesting neighborhood. Her father, when almost 
 at middle life, had displeased his family by espousing 
 poverty when he might have had riches. He was a 
 student and a dreamer. When his wife died he sent 
 his little girl to an excellent school, but on her return, 
 a young woman, she found nothing to attract or enter- 
 tain. She met Mrs. Varick, and the children took 
 a great liking to her. She went over to Germany with 
 them ; then came to America. And this summer, at 
 Newport, young Sherburne was a welcome visitor. 
 Miss Varick had hosts of admirers. He was not a 
 very enthusiastic one ; indeed, he seemed greatly to 
 prefer Mrs. Varick and the children. 
 
 How he came to fall in love with Honora Trenholme ; 
 how any one falls in love unwisely, in the face of family 
 traditions and expectations, no one can explain. She 
 did not dream of such a thing. She gently, perhaps 
 heroically, refused him. Then she decided, as her two 
 years' engagement was about ending, and her father 
 had fallen in feeble health, to return to England. Mrs. 
 Varick's aunt, a widow lady, was to return in October, 
 and she arranged to go with her. 
 
 \Vhen the steamer sailed Edward Sherburne was 
 among the passengers. Mrs. Goodrich made an in- 
 dulgent, perhaps unwise, chaperon. Honora was 
 touched with the charming young fellow's devotion. 
 It seemed so different out here on the ocean, away 
 from the stricter regulations of society. Honora lis- 
 tened, loved, accepted. When she reached the ram- 
 bling old English Rectory, where the feeble white-haired 
 man welcomed back his child, she consented to a speedy
 
 22 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 marriage, as she found what a satisfaction it would be to 
 him. He warmly admired the young Virginian. 
 
 They went to Southern France for the winter. Sher- 
 burne delayed announcing his marriage. Mrs. Good- 
 rich casually mentioned it in a letter. Isabel Varick 
 flew with the tidings to Mrs. Beaumanoir, and great was 
 the indignation evoked, although at first the young 
 man's family could not believe him so recreant to 
 tradition. 
 
 " I always felt she was one of your soft, fair, scheming 
 women," said Isabel. " My stepmother has not an 
 atom of penetration, and Mrs. Goodrich is positively 
 silly. But it is dreadful for his future to be ruined in 
 that manner." 
 
 When Ned Sherburne announced his intention of 
 taking a run through Europe, his father had supplied 
 him liberally with funds. He was but two-and-tvventy. 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir was fifteen years his senior, and all 
 of his sisters were married. Not the slightest suspicion 
 of a love affair had been roused in any one's mind, but 
 when young Mrs. Varick heard he had sailed on the 
 same steamer, a little uneasiness pervaded her for Miss 
 Trenholme's sake, but she discreetly refrained from any 
 comment. The most surprised person was Honora Tren- 
 holme. And, though the Sberburnes always believed it 
 had been at her instigation, she was entirely innocent of 
 any complicity. 
 
 Mr. Sherburne wrote at once, bidding his son deny 
 such a ridiculous story. Thus pressed, Edward frankly 
 acknowledged his marriage. The Sherburnes, one and 
 all, were bitterly indignant. Mr. Sherburne at once cut 
 off his son's allowance, upbraiding him for deceit, ;md a 
 step he must have known was in the most flagrant oppo- 
 sition to their wishes. And as, at this period, Edward 
 had positively nothing in his own right, it rendered him 
 penniless. It was too late to interfere with the provisions
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 23 
 
 of the grandfather's will. The young man was abso- 
 lutely stunned. He felt that he had acted with injudi- 
 cious haste and not paid his family proper respect, but 
 he was extravagantly in love, and looked hopefully to- 
 ward the future. 
 
 " Of course it must be made up," he said to Honora. 
 "You see Sherburne House is mine after my father is 
 done with it. It belongs to me and my heirs inalien- 
 ably, as well as some coal and iron lands that may be 
 rendered profitable. My father has the sole right dur- 
 ing his life, but he cannot cut me off, you see only 
 from present income. And I know they will all relent. 
 I am the last of the Sherburne name, the only son," and 
 he smiled proudly. 
 
 Honora could not regret her marriage, and yet she 
 was sorry it had not been more wisely considered. 
 They went to Switzerland, in the summer, for cheaper 
 living. Mr. Trenholme died and they returned to Eng- 
 land. His family had him interred in their parish bury- 
 ing ground. His daughter was married they had never 
 taken any notice of her, and were not likely to now. His 
 income ended with him, and the young people were 
 thrown upon their own resources. They went up to 
 London where, after a while, Sherburne obtained em- 
 ployment, and presently their little girl was born. She 
 was christened Honora Lyndell, and they adopted the 
 diminutive of Dell. He announced this fact to his 
 father, but to his great chagrin it elicited no response. 
 
 Still, they were very happy. If they struggled no\v 
 there would be an abundance in their declining years. 
 Meanwhile the Civil War had broken out. There were 
 times when Edward Sherburne longed to fly to the res- 
 cue of his country, for though the family deprecated the 
 causes, they were loyal to the old Union. In fact, slavery- 
 had ceased to be profitable on these borders of freedom, 
 and before Grandfather Sherburne' s death the greater
 
 24 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 part of the slaves had been sold to more distant and se- 
 cure keepers. But the young husband felt that he must 
 stand by his wife, since he had in a degree isolated her 
 from all other prospects. And so passed nearly five 
 pleasant years. Then Sherburne was taken ill with a 
 fever, and inside of a fortnight lay dead in the pretty cot- 
 tage. His little son was born prematurely some hours 
 after the shock, and died also. 
 
 The Sherburnes ordered the body sent home, but took 
 no further note of the young widow and her child. In- 
 deed, in their first unreasoning grief, they laid the cause 
 of his death at her door and were intensely bitter against 
 her. Mr. Sherburne had a wild hope that, somehow, 
 there being no son, the entail might be broken. 
 
 Honora struggled back to health for her child's sake. 
 She was a fine musician and presently began to teach, 
 as the illness and death had made sad inroads on their 
 savings. Her leisure was devoted to her passionate 
 grief. A cruel fate had snatched her husband from her 
 and left her to bitterest solitude. She could not even 
 have the poor comfort of praying at his grave or strewing 
 flowers over it. And Lyndell was one of the healthy, ir- 
 repressible children, with no morbid tendency, to whom 
 crying and sadness were distasteful. As was to be ex- 
 pected, the labor and the excessive grief began to under- 
 mine a naturally good constitution. When she first be- 
 came aware of her impaired health she began to consider 
 the future of her child. She shrank from facing death 
 as a factor, but if her husband was certain of the situa- 
 tion and it seemed as though he could not be mistaken, 
 that he had in any way deceived or misled her she 
 would not believe then her child's most vital interest 
 would be in America, and at Sherburne House. If she 
 had started at once but it seemed hard to seek refuge 
 in a strange country, and perhaps with unfriendly rela- 
 tives. When she had to relinquish her church singing,
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 25 
 
 and found herself unequal to lessons, she knew she must 
 take the step at once. The physician talked hopefully 
 of the sea voyage. She remembered Mrs. Varick's 
 kindness to her, and the new world did not appear quite 
 so dreary. 
 
 But alas! She was extremely ill on the journey. 
 Maggie Murray, who had taken to the child at the first 
 interview, offered to nurse her, as she needed a constant 
 attendant. And when they landed, it was Con Murray's 
 kindness and intervention that kept her from a hospital. 
 
 For a while Honora could not make the slightest ex- 
 ertion. Maggie and Mrs. Murray were ministering angels. 
 Dell took to the children with the wildest sort of delight, 
 and became a favorite at once. 
 
 Honora Sherburne told her kind friends her pitiful 
 story. She wrote to her husband's people and waited 
 vainly for an answer, resolving that, as soon as she was 
 able, she would go to them and learn her fate. But the 
 time never came. She alternated a little, and at length 
 the end occurred suddenly. 
 
 Once she had said to Mr. Murray : 
 
 " If any evil should befall me, will you keep my little 
 girl and care for her until such time as she can repay 
 your kindness? This box of papers I give into your 
 sacred charge, and do not allow them to fall into any 
 hands that would destroy them. They prove my child's 
 identity and claim. Oh, be good to her and heaven will 
 surely reward you." 
 
 Con promised, with tears in his kindly eyes. But his 
 experience had been wider, and several deceptions in 
 marriage had come under his notice. 
 
 They buried Mrs. Sherburne in a pretty rural ceme- 
 tery, and Con put up a suitable monument. There was 
 still about seven hundred dollars left. 
 
 " We'll put that in the bank for the colleen," he said 
 to his wife. " We'll never miss the bite and sup we give
 
 2fi SHKRBL'RNE HOL'SK. 
 
 her. I misdoubt whether any word comes. You see it 
 might be so that they could cut out the young man, and 
 he not exactly know it. So it isn't best to put wrong 
 ideas into the child's head, if she has to grow up like ouib 
 and earn her living." 
 
 " To be sure," returned Densie. Con was the epitome 
 of wisdom in her eyes. He was blessed with much 
 shrewdness and common sense, and being a perfectly 
 temperate man, his good judgment was seldom dazed or 
 blinded. He might have been born in the Eastern States 
 for his quick-witted faculty and other strong qualities. 
 
 Maggie married an enterprising young grocerymaja. 
 Dell overlived her sorrow, as healthy-toned childhood is 
 apt to do. There was the companionship of the chil- 
 dren ; the ever welcome babies, school, play, and a sim- 
 ple kind of religion that made them truthful and upright. 
 Still, Dell did not forget her beautiful mamma. The 
 past was a series of slow -moving, pathetic pictures, in 
 which she seemed to steal awesomely along ; the present 
 was glad, buoyant, full of interest and delight. Her life 
 had been so solitary heretofore, shut out from those of 
 her own age. And* the M arrays were a merry lot. They 
 squabbled, they teased and laagbed at each oilier, but 
 they were obliging, cheerful, light-hearted. Densie 
 Murray had not been trained i the an-ajytic or intro- 
 spective 1 school, and perhaps thought more ot keeping 
 their bodies clean and sound than of peering or prying 
 into their souls or brains. 
 
 So four years had come and gone. Dell was so in- 
 corporated into the family that she vised their 
 though some of the neighbors remembered her mother, 
 they always called her Dell Murray. There was not a 
 thought of any one claiming her now. She was a bright 
 scholar, and Con had settled in his. mind that she would 
 study for a teacher. Her little money laid on interest, 
 and would be a nice bit when she married.
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE PAST. 2? 
 
 For though Constamine Murray was fast becoming a 
 
 successful business man, he was as' simple at heart as 
 when he fiist set foot in the new country. He had not 
 begun to dream of being a rich man. He was fond of 
 work, and his garden was a delight. Little had he 
 dreamed of it being a tolerable gold mine.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 
 
 MANY things had tended to keep alive a sense of re- 
 sentment with the Sherburnes. If Dell had proved a boy, 
 her grandfather would have felt that he must be insti- 
 tuted in his rightful position. There were perplexities 
 brought about by the war, some family anxieties, and the 
 influence was all on the wrong side. 
 
 Miss Varick fanned the flame of resentment. She did 
 not too cordially approve of her young stepmother and 
 she was piqued that a man who had the opportunity of 
 asking her hand in marriage should have preferred an 
 unknown nobody. Mrs. Beaumanoir was extremely in- 
 dignant, and did not hesitate to call Honora " that Eng- 
 lish adventuress." Aunt Aurelia was of the old aristo- 
 cratic school, a great stickler for good blood, and she 
 esteemed it a positive disgrace. Still she pitied rather 
 than blamed " poor infatuated Edward." 
 
 Yet the extreme bitterness of feeling had begun to 
 abate a little when they were shocked to the innermost 
 soul by the tidings of his sudden death. In a certain 
 sense they felt the wife had been the cause. 
 
 " If there cou/dhe some change made in that unfortu- 
 nate will," Mr. Sherburne groaned to his sister. "Of 
 course father never dreamed of such a contingency. 
 But he might have trusted me to do what was right." 
 
 However, there was the unlucky clause " to him and 
 his heirs, forever." And the will was on record. 
 
 " And there is Leonard. The eldest grandson ought 
 to take Sherburne House and the name," said Miss 
 Aurelia. " Oh poor, misguided Ned ! " 
 28
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 2fr 
 
 " She has no right here at all," announced Mrs. Bean 
 manoir. "And while father lives, no one can come in. 
 Of course the child may die, and that will end it. If she 
 never comes into possession the mother will have no- 
 claim. Oh, how could Edward have been so blind I " 
 
 The Beaumanoir estate joined Sherburne House. 
 There were five bright, attractive children. Mrs. Lepage 
 was settled in Baltimore, but made frequent visits at 
 home, and of her four children the two eldest were 
 promising boys. Mrs. Stanwood, the youngest daughter, 
 spent much of her time at Sherburne House. Mr. Sher- 
 burne was exceedingly fond of his grandchildren, but. 
 Miss Aurelia, who was reckoned to have a fine head for 
 business, relieved him of many cares, as his health had 
 grown rather precarious. Indeed, during the winter of 
 four years previous, he had shown some rather alarming 
 symptoms, and in March he had started for the Pacific 
 coast with the Stanwoods. 
 
 Honora's letter had come, and been laid aside for re- 
 mailing. Then Mrs. Beaumanoir in hunting up some 
 important papers, had unwittingly given it a little tip and 
 sent it down a crack into a compartment rarely used. 
 Miss Aurelia took up another New York letter of slight 
 importance, unaware there had been two. And there 
 the letter was to slumber securely. 
 
 At first Mr. Sherburne seemed quite his olden self on 
 his return. There was a vague sort of misgiving in his 
 mind that some inquiries ought to be instituted concern- 
 ing Edward's child. His obstinate faith that something 
 oiight to be done to change the will clung to him, al- 
 though he had been assured that only the child's death 
 while a minor could render it nugatory. But springs 
 came and autumns vanished, until, one day, the dread 
 destroyer, paralysis, laid his heavy hand on the now 
 rather delicate frame, and for six months or more it was 
 but a death in life. His sister nursed him devotedly..
 
 30 &HEHBURNE HOLSE. 
 
 his children and grandchildren were tender and assiduous 
 until the end. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham, the family adviser, came to look 
 over the important papers. The bulk of Mr. Sher- 
 burne's own property was divided between his sister and 
 Leonard Beaumanoir, but there were remembrances to 
 every one. And now the letter was exhumed from its hid- 
 ing-place and perused with something like consternation. 
 Certainly it had never been opened before. 
 
 What was to be done? Until the truth was evolved 
 about Edward's child there could be no settlement of the 
 estate. Her right was incontrovertible. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Lepage were just going abroad, and 
 proposed to ascertain the truth of the marriage and the 
 birth of the child, before any steps nearer home were 
 taken. Indeed, she and Mrs. Beaumanoir had a confi- 
 dent feeling that a thorough examination would reveal 
 some trickery or debatable link. The letter might be 
 that of a skilful adventuress, since it had not been fol- 
 lowed up by any notification of the death. 
 
 But the Lepages found a most orthodox marriage. 
 They also unearthed the simple life in a London suburb, 
 the births of two children and the death, the after life of 
 Mrs. Sherburne, her failing health, and her American 
 voyage. There was no weak or disreputable link. 
 
 "I will send to New York," proposed Mr. Whitting- 
 ham, " and get some one to make a few quiet inquiries 
 about these Murray s. But the poorer classes move 
 about so continually that it may be difficult to trace 
 them." 
 
 Miss Aurelia sighed. She was too much of a Chris- 
 tian to hope deliberately that the child was dead. But 
 she shrank instinctively from the low associations and 
 alien blood that must hereafter be grafted upon their 
 pine stock. And she did want her favorite Leonard 
 lieaumanoir to be the next master in this fine old house.
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 31 
 
 When the word came there could be no further ex- 
 cuse for delay ; Mrs. Sherburne had died four years 
 earlier. Her little girl was still with the Murrays. Of 
 course she must be brought home and educated for her 
 station. "And how can I endure her here! " groaned 
 Miss Aurelia. 
 
 " There is another resource sending her to some nice 
 school," suggested the lawyer. 
 
 " But she will be such an utter barbarian after years 
 of low Irish associations ! No, we may as well face the 
 bitter trial at once, and civilize her as speedily as possi- 
 ble," was the reply. 
 
 So it was decided that Miss Sherburne and Mr. Whit- 
 tingham should proceed forthwith to New York, and 
 learn how well the case could be authenticated. 
 
 The result of the interview the reader knows. But 
 what pen can do justice to Miss Sherburne's indignant 
 disgust as they two took their places again in the coupe. 
 
 "That child!" The words choked her. "That 
 wild-Indian-looking thing who dances for the amusement 
 of a crowd of street boys ! I saw her as she turned her 
 impudent eyes toward the coupe ; and that great shock of 
 red hair, that squat, ungainly figure. She never can be 
 Edward's child ! 
 
 " But they certainly would have no object in putting 
 forth a pretender," interposed the lawyer. 
 
 " But she the mother might. Edward sent a pic- 
 ture of his wife when he confessed the marriage, but it 
 might have flattered her. He thought her so beautiful, 
 poor misguided boy ! And Ned was handsome enough. 
 She cannot be his child. I will not believe it until the 
 papers are forthcoming. Oh, my friend, use your ut- 
 most efforts to prevent a deception. To have that thing 
 foisted upon the family ! " 
 
 Mr. Whittingham sympathized keenly with the Sher- 
 burnes. He had somehow idealized Edward's child, and
 
 32 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 felt disappointed. But he was touched with the sym- 
 pathy and attention the Murrays had paid to the dying 
 woman and her child. 
 
 They found Mrs. Warden, who told her story with a 
 kind of indignant passion. She recapitulated the fever- 
 ish waiting, the dread of leaving her child, the earnest 
 -desire to meet her husband's people, the sweetness and 
 refinement of her nature, and the kindliness of the 
 Murrays. 
 
 " We shall reward them for all their trouble," re- 
 turned the lady haughtily. 
 
 " You never can reward them ! " cried warm-hearted 
 Maggie. " No money can do it. Many a one would 
 have sent the child to some charitable institution as soon 
 a.s the little money was gone, but my brother would 
 have cut off his right arm sooner than touch a penny 
 of it." 
 
 "An underbred woman," declared Miss Sherburne. 
 " Now, Mrs. Murray does seem to understand her place. 
 It is a pity the child should have been under such in- 
 fluences, if she should prove my nephew's daughter. But 
 I must be thoroughly convinced." 
 
 "Yes, yes, indeed," responded Mr. Whittingham, 
 though he had very little fear of the result. 
 
 The interview with Mr. Murray established one fact, 
 that they were in no degree desirous of parting with 
 Lyndell. Indeed, he begged she might be left with 
 them until autumn at least. 
 
 " That will be quite impossible, if she is proved to be a 
 Sherburne. She must be brought up as befits her sta- 
 tion," said the lady decisively. 
 
 Con Murray's bright face shadowed a little. 
 
 "It'll be hard for her," he said, in his simple way. 
 "She's so fond of the children. And they'll miss her. 
 Oh, ma'am, I could almost wisll thnt she didn't belong 
 to any one and that we might keep her always."
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINE 33 
 
 " I should think you had enough mouths to feed, with- 
 out her, my good man," was the reply. 
 
 " But there would always be enough. And I am not 
 quite a poor man, either. You don't think, ma'am, >v 
 awkwardly twisting the button of his coat, "that you 
 could spare her a month or two to get a little used to. 
 the idea? You see she's known no other real home foir 
 so long," and his tone sank to persuasive pleading. 
 
 "The idea of being an heiress will compensate her.'" 
 said the lady, with some bitterness. 
 
 "Oh, you are quite wrong there, ma'am. That 
 wouldn't touch her at all." 
 
 " Mr. Murray, I must warn you not to pin your faith 
 on such theories of simplicity. When she comes to un- 
 derstand the truth, you will find her ready enough to ac- 
 cept the good things of prosperity. Do not count on any 
 great remembrance from her children's gratitude is 
 proverbially short-lived. I wish we could relinquish her 
 to you, but we are prepared to do our full duty in the 
 case, if she really belongs to us, which cannot be told 
 until the papers are produced. Be here as early as you; 
 can, to-morrow. We are anxious to get through as soon, 
 as possible." 
 
 The tone was dry and hard, with a certain flavor of 
 unwillingness to accept the facts. 
 
 " Yes," said Con, with a great ache at his heart. Oh_ 
 how could they give warm-hearted, quick-tempered,, 
 generous Dell into such hands ! 
 
 Mr. Whittingham followed him through the long hall 
 and down the stairs, endeavoring, in an amiable way, to- 
 soften the impression the asperity of his companion had 
 made. He knew the hopes and ambitions of the Sher- 
 burnes so well, and the intensity of their disappointment^ 
 If the child were only pretty or winsome ! 
 
 Con returned with a heavy heart. The children had 
 gone down to the Park. Con, Densie, and the baby sat
 
 34 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 under the old apple-tree, the baby crowing gleefully 
 while they "talked it over." Densie's motherly heart 
 ached for poor Dell. 
 
 But the evening was delightful. They always sang 
 hymns, and more than one passer-by stopped to listen. 
 Con kissed Dell almost lightly, he was so afraid of show- 
 ing his coming grief. 
 
 T!ie children went off to school the next morning as 
 usual, except that Dell was really impatient, as if there 
 was safety in getting away. 
 
 Con and Mr. Cranston went down with the box of 
 papers. Miss Sherburne would fain have dismissed them 
 immediately, but Mr. Whittingham evinced a proper re- 
 spect for their rights in the matter. 
 
 Alas ! If Miss Sherburne had a hope it was doomed to 
 speedy extinguishment. There was the marriage certifi- 
 cate, Lyndell's birth record, and a christening card. 
 Letters, some of Edward's own trinkets, and the very 
 watch Aunt Aurelia had given him. There was also a 
 sealed packet inscribed : " To my dear daughter, Honora 
 Lyndell Sherburne, from her mother. To be given her 
 on her fifteenth birthday." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham went carefully over the papers. 
 There could be no further question. The facts which 
 they had already gleaned were substantiated. Honora 
 Lyndell was her father's heiress and sole mistress of 
 Sherburne House. 
 
 Miss Aurelia Sherburne swallowed her bitter draught 
 bravely, but with a kind of passionate protest on behalf 
 of Leonard Beaumanoir. She had hoped against hope, 
 but she could not go against law and proof. 
 
 " Nothing remains then but to take the child to her 
 proper home," she declared incisively. "And this 
 worthy man must be reimbursed for the expense he so 
 kindly assumed. Of course, we should have relieved you 
 at once if that unfortunate letter had not been mislaid."
 
 f 
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 35 
 
 "I shall take no gift or payjnent," returned Con 
 Murray, with so large and gracious a dignity that Miss 
 Sherburne flushed with a sense of shame. For, certainly, 
 here was the higher birthright of a gentleman, the tine, 
 honorable soul. Something gave her conscience a twinge. 
 Under any other circumstances she would have done 
 justice to his manliness. "The child has always been 
 welcome to our love and care, just as the mother was. 
 No one, unless he had the heart of a stone, could have 
 left her to die friendless and forlorn. All that we have 
 done she and the child are quite welcome to, and I am 
 willing to trust to Dell's gratitude in the years to come." 
 
 Miss Sherburne bit her lip with a sense of discomfiture. 
 She hated to feel that any one connected with her family 
 should remain under any sense of obligation to the 
 Murrays. Not that she had any faith in Dell's lasting 
 gratitude. She considered herself an excellent judge of 
 human nature, and she was quite sure the girl had a 
 stolid, ungracious temperament, quite deficient in the 
 finer qualities that generations of culture and breeding 
 develop. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham took him aside to consult about 
 arrangements. It was their intention to start homeward 
 as soon as possible. And they had decided that the 
 child must have a suitable wardrobe. 
 
 " If you could only allow her to remain until the end 
 of the school term," besought her foster-father. 
 
 " It is quite impossible. No doubt she will have to 
 unlearn much of what she has acquired," said Miss 
 Sherburne decisively. " Let me see I will come at two, 
 and \ve can devote the afternoon to shopping. We must 
 start to-morrow morning." 
 
 " You see the parting had much better come at once," 
 interposed Mr. Whittingham gently. "Living it over 
 will not soften it any." 
 
 "I will tell her ' and Con turned away, winking
 
 36 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 his blue eyes hard. " You see we haven't thought of any 
 such thing." 
 
 "Children's memories are short-lived, and their pref- 
 erences a matter of present enjoyment. It will be better 
 for her to forget the past as soon as possible. She is to 
 be Miss Sherburne of Sherburne House, one of the finest 
 old estates in Virginia, and her future life will be altogether 
 different. You must see that all connection between you 
 and her had better cease at once. She must adapt her- 
 self to an entirely new order of things. Do not make it 
 any harder for her by your ill-judged sympathy and mis- 
 placed indulgence." 
 
 Miss Sherburne was growing irritable. That this man 
 could not see the superiority of the future awaiting the 
 child, positively angered her. 
 
 Con Murray was not the man to say hard things to a 
 woman, but he glanced steadily into the austere eyes. 
 To think of warm, eager, impetuous Dell falling into such 
 pitiless hands ! 
 
 "We will come for her at two. Try and have no 
 scenes. I detest ungovernable children." 
 
 Con bowed himself out, and turned his steps home- 
 ward. Cranston had left, on the transference of the 
 papers. 
 
 Densie was busy with the dinner. A woman was 
 washing in the shed and crooning an Irish ditty. Densie 
 lifted her eyes in amazement. 
 
 " O Con ! " she cried. His face told her all. 
 
 "She's a hard one, Densie. She'll never love the 
 poor colleen. It's a thousand pities there is any money. 
 But there's a grand estate, and her own mother, poor 
 shut-out lamb, was all right. She belongs to them. The 
 law would not let us keep her, no matter how willing 
 we were. But how they will ever take her 
 
 " Heaven send us help ! " Then Densie dropped into 
 a chair, and cried over Laddie's curly pate.
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 37 
 
 < 
 
 " How we'll ever make her understand " and Con 
 sat down on the doorstep. " But the lawyer explained 
 it all to me. There's lots of relatives too, three own 
 aunts, her father's sisters, and cousins ; and this is a 
 great aunt who lives at Sherburne House, and that is all 
 Dell's besides ever so much money. It's what her 
 mother brought her here for, and we oughtn't to feel so 
 rebellious. For, after all, money's a good thing," added 
 Con retrospectively. 
 
 " A slip of a lass like that! " exclaimed Densie in 
 amazement. 
 
 " And the old lady's right. She must be educated to 
 fill-the place in the world that the good God has allotted 
 to her. But if they could have forgiven the poor young 
 people and brought them home, and had Dell born in her 
 own house ! And I wish it was kinder hands she was 
 like to fall into." 
 
 Densie wiped her eyes. 
 
 " Ah, the poor dear ! She's hardly had a cross word. 
 I've often noticed," said Densie sagely, "that if you 
 leave a colleen alone to think a bit, it's better than flying 
 out at them with your own temper in a flame. And 
 whatever will she do without Tessy ! They're like 
 two peas in a pod. And all the babies to love ! And 
 Con, dear, when I Miave been tried with her, the 
 poor mother's dying face has come back to me, and 
 I'd think what if I was under the sod and she here 
 mothering my little flock? and God will bear witness 
 that I did only what I would be willing to have done 
 to mine. And they'll know nothing about the child's 
 mother." 
 
 "They all hate her. They haven't the right of the 
 story, I'm sure. I don't believe she inveigled the young 
 fellow over the sea to marry her. He was hot for him- 
 self, no doubt. So there'll be no love lost on the child, 
 and that's what stabs me to the quick. To have the
 
 38 SHEEBUENK HOUSE. 
 
 poor thing hungering for a bit of love and the sweetness 
 of kisses, and then be offered a stone ! " 
 
 " Poor little lass ! " sobbed Densie. 
 
 "There, there," said Con unsteadily. "I'll go out 
 and meet them coming home. Maybe the news'll sound 
 less cruel in the bright, sunshiny streets, with the others 
 around. And, Densie you're that soft-hearted 
 
 " Who else isn't lacking in soft-heartedness ? " 
 
 Con turned two or three corners. There was a merry 
 flock all in a huddle Murray's Row, and some rows 
 besides talking, laughing, catching an arm or hand, 
 giving a "last tag" and starting off like a deer. Tessy 
 caught sight of him and bounded onward, snatching- at 
 his hand. Dell walked gravely and asked a fateful 
 question with her eyes, and, oh ! received a fateful an- 
 swer without a word. 
 
 She stood quite still. The warmth all went out of the 
 sunshine. Con passed his arm over her shoulder and 
 impelled her along. At the gate she said : 
 
 ' ' They will not let me stay ? ' ' 
 
 " Dell, dear a/anna you're a great heiress and a 
 lady. It's just as your poor sweet mother^said. You 
 could buy a palace only, don't you remember what the 
 good St. Paul said about children being under teachers 
 and masters? You're to have a beautiful home in Vir- 
 ginia, and flocks and herds and I don't know what all " 
 trying to laugh. " And now you must go and learn 
 how to be a lady, so that when you are grown up you 
 can take care of it and prove a blessing to your friends, 
 a sweet, tender, gracious woman, such as your own 
 mamma would have been." 
 
 " I do not want it," returned Dell, with sharp, short 
 decisiveness that somehow suggested Miss Sherburne. 
 "I do not want to be a lady! If they wouldn't have 
 mamma, they needn't have me." 
 
 " But, dear, you see if your father was alive he
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 39 
 
 Avould go at once. His father is dead, and in the natural 
 course of events the property comes to him. Failing in 
 that, to his child. That is the law of the land. There 
 cannot be any evading it. And the laws are made so 
 that one person cannot wrong another without commit- 
 ting a crime." 
 
 " I shall not go. They can keep it and the money 
 and everything ! " Her heart swelled, and she shut her 
 lips firmly. 
 
 Was there some latent likenes| to Miss Sherburne, 
 that inheritance we call family resemblance? And yet 
 she was so different with her round face, that could be 
 so laughing and merry. 
 
 " Run along, children," he said. Then he drew Dell 
 down the garden path. But the simple fellow was at his 
 wits' end. 
 
 The children hurried to their mother and questioned 
 eagerly. Was it true that those people were going to 
 take Dell away ? 
 
 "You see," continued Con, "they cannot keep it. 
 The law will not let them. The intent of the law is that 
 no one shafi deprive another of what is rightfully his own 
 by inheritance. And you are a minor, so you have 
 guardians to direct you. In eight years you will be a 
 woman ; then your guardians transfer everything to you. 
 You can do what you like, in reason. You can make a 
 beautiful home and ask us all to visit you. You and 
 Tessy may be great friends then. But while Tessy is so 
 young we think it right and proper for her to obey us, 
 and so it is proper for you to obey whoever will be your 
 guardian. And you have aunts and cousins in Virginia." 
 
 " Why did they not send before?" queried Dell with 
 unnatural gravity. 
 
 " Your mother's letter was mislaid. Your grandfather 
 was traveling for his health, and the letter was laid by, 
 slipped away, and was not found until after his death.
 
 40 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 He would have sent for you at once he would have 
 loved you as I do." 
 
 "Let us go in " they were walking back then. 
 Somehow, Dell felt safer with them all around her. 
 
 " Hallo ! " cried Con, junior. " You are very swell ! 
 It isn't the king's son exactly, but we've had the princess 
 in disguise and we will be famous." 
 
 " I shall never be a princess. I am going to stay here 
 with you all. I don't want the money, nor the palace, 
 nor the hateful old aynt ' ' 
 
 Con sat down in despair, and began to help the chil- 
 dren. 
 
 " You have it already," he said, returning to the attack, 
 rather disheartened. " You simply can't get rid of it. It 
 is this chimney-corner that has been the mistake. The 
 princess happened to knock at the cottage door one dark, 
 stormy night, and we took her in and kept her until her 
 people came. And now she is going back to her kingdom 
 to learn how to manage it, how to do the most good with 
 her fortune, how to make people happy. Dell, my little 
 darling, God knows how dear you are to us all, but we 
 have not the first or best right. Mamma and I would 
 break our promise to your dead mother if we interfered. 
 And now you must do your duty, bravely, just as she 
 would wish. It must not be said that we set you up 
 against your own blood kin." 
 
 Densie glanced up furtively. There was an ominous 
 lowering of the brows and contraction of the lips as the 
 girl sat with her untasted dinner before her. Young 
 Con asked a question, and his father was glad to answer 
 it and explain some of the points he had gone over. 
 
 "Dell," said Con, "I'd give anything if it was I. 
 Can't we change places ? Are you quite sure there isn't 
 a mistake?" and the boy looked up with a shrewd 
 twinkle. 
 
 "Oh, I wish you could, I wish you could!" Then
 
 A BATTLE WITH DESTINY. 41 
 
 there was a wild, pathetic cry that pierced their hearts, 
 and Dell was in mamma Murray's arms, sobbing tem- 
 pestuously. "I can't go! I hate that woman. And 
 she doesn't want me, I can feel it. Oh, you will keep 
 me ! " 
 
 Densie gave way at that, and some of the true Irish 
 vehemence came to the surface. Con rose and took the 
 girl in his arms, patted her cheek, and kissed down amid 
 the passionate tears. 
 
 " Mavourneen, you will break all our hearts ! It's sore 
 hard for us to lose you, but they will think we have put 
 you up to be rebellious and obstinate, and said bitter 
 things against them. Come, will you not be brave and 
 bear your corner of the heavy burden ? I can't keep 
 you, because you have kinsfolk to whom your mother de- 
 sired you to go. See here it is just as if your father be- 
 queathed you to them, and fathers have the right. What 
 if some man should come and take Tessy there ; the law 
 would say at once ' Give her back to her father. You 
 have no rights.' And so I can protect her. But for this 
 any one might take you and make a little slave of you. 
 So you see the law is our friend, after all. And you'll 
 like them better when you come to know them. There 
 are cousins who will welcome you, and you will have so 
 many new things to learn. My darling, you are going 
 to be a brave girl." 
 
 "Children," said Mrs. Murray to the anxious throng 
 who had left half their dinners on their plates, " children, 
 it's school time. Kiss Dell, and run off she'll be here 
 to-night, father? " 
 
 " Yes." Mr. Murray meant to fight for that. 
 
 Then Densie took Dell upstairs, brushed her soft hair 
 and tied it with her best blue ribbon, washed her tear- 
 stained face, talking all the while in a soft persuasive 
 voice, that now and then halted lamely over a sob ; ex- 
 plaining to her that they were to shop this afternoon, and
 
 42 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 she would be pleased with the new dresses, and that it 
 would be her duty to learn the true purpose of the wealth 
 God was bestowing upon her. " For it could not have 
 come if God had not willed it. And there's a rugged 
 way to a good many of the best things of life." 
 
 Then Densie wondered, rather ruefully, if money was 
 among the best things. 
 
 The carriage rolled up to the door, Mr. Whittingham 
 alighted alone. 
 
 "It's come powerfully hard on the child," said Con 
 Murray. "The suddenness of the thing stuns her. I 
 hope you'll be patient till she gets settled in the new 
 traces. She's never known any want of love, and 
 though she's hot-tempered at times, she has a big heart 
 and a quick, true conscience. I've promised she should 
 come back for the night. It is the only favor I ask of 
 you. By morning she will have accepted some of the 
 facts so hard now to understand." 
 
 "An excellent idea," cordially acquiesced Mr. Whit- 
 tingham. " Miss Sherburne is very nervous and and 
 upset, I may say. She is a little peculiar, and her 
 nephew's unlucky marriage was a great blow to them 
 all ; though, if he had lived, it would have been for- 
 given. A fine fellow he was, too. I wish the child 
 could have looked like him it would have softened their 
 hearts, so to speak. It has been a sad matter all around. 
 And we owe you a debt of gratitude." 
 
 Dell came down, clinging to Densie' s arm ; Con kissed 
 her and whispered, " Be brave for all our sakes.*'
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HOW DELL FOUGHT IT OUT. 
 
 MR. WHITTINGHAM led Dell out to the carriage. She 
 glanced around with a terrified look, as if even 
 now she was meditating an escape. Miss Sherburne 
 nodded coldly. The flushed and swollen face and red 
 eyes disgusted her, aroused afresh the antagonism in her 
 soul toward the spectacle of the dancing girl. She 
 could see her in her tawdry drapery, with the motley crew 
 around her. It was coarse, indecent! 
 
 She found just these coarse, commonplace lines in the 
 girl's face. There was no Sherburne about it. Perhaps 
 Dell had never looked so unlovely in her life. One kind, 
 tender word would have broken down the barriers and 
 transfigured the countenance. Miss Sherburne went over 
 it critically, her aversion increasing every minute. People 
 who measure, weigh, and define at a first glance take 
 what is present at the moment, and are generally tot- 
 narrow and implacable to admit a mistake afterward. 
 
 Certainly Dell was not amiable or gracious. She 
 evinced no interest in the attire chosen for her. Miss 
 Sherburne was slow and fastidious. Dell grew weary of 
 being measured and fitted. Nothing seemed especially 
 becoming. 
 
 "The child is hopelessly stout," she said in despair. 
 " You can make nothing of such a figure." 
 
 " She is at the most trying age." was the suave reply. 
 " In a year or two one will hardly recognize her.'' 
 
 Miss Sherburne groaned inwardly over the gloves, 
 boots and daintily cut 'slippers, and would have found a 
 43
 
 44 SHERBURNE HOUSE 
 
 satisfaction in pinching her, but Dell would not be 
 pinched. It was extremely trying. 
 
 Once she stood a little apart. Mr. Whittingham was 
 touched by her utter desolation. 
 
 " It is tiresome business," he said. 
 
 Dell's lips quivered. Then one large tear rolled down 
 her cheek. 
 
 "My dear child!" Mr. Whittingham's sympathies 
 were keenly touched. " Let us walk about a little while 
 Miss Sherburne is busy." 
 
 Dell wiped her eyes and turned redder than before. 
 But she took a quick step forward. 
 
 "It is very hard for you," and he was surprised at 
 the sudden accession of kindliness he experienced. " It 
 will be a great change, and it has come so unexpectedly. 
 I can see that the Murrays are warm-hearted people. 
 We owe them a great deal for their care of you." 
 
 " Yes, you do," said Dell, with very honest frankness. 
 
 " And I hope you will presently come to feel at home 
 among your new relatives. It will take time." After a 
 pause, in which she evinced no tendency to reply, he 
 added, " Perhaps you would like to buy some little gift 
 or something." 
 
 " I did not bring my money," returned Dell briefly. 
 
 " My dear child, you will have plenty." 
 
 "Not of hers?" indicating Miss Sherburne with a 
 gesture of her head. 
 
 "Oh, no; of your very own. Let me be your 
 banker." 
 
 " Did all the clothes and things come out of my 
 money 2 " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 Then Dell gave a bright, quick smile that looked like 
 a rift of sun through lowering clouds. 
 
 " Are you to be my guardian ? " she asked with a touch 
 of interest that humanized her at once.
 
 HOW DELL FOl'GHT IT OUT. 45 
 
 "Probably; I am executor trustee. There will be 
 some new arrangements. You need not hesitate to 
 ask me anything in reason," and he gave a soft, dry 
 smile. There was a kindliness he had not observed be- 
 fore. He had a vague realization of how alone she would 
 stand at Sherburne, and of the love and companionship 
 she would leave behind. 
 
 "The money would have been my own papa's? " she 
 ventured hesitatingly. 
 
 " Yes. And it came from his grandfather, who loved 
 him devotedly." 
 
 " I am glad of that." There was a great lump in Dell's 
 throat. She should always feel kindly toward him be- 
 cause he had loved her father. 
 
 "Well, can I do anything to gratify you?" They 
 walked down a counter of fancy articles. Dell was con- 
 sidering. 
 
 " If you are my guardian, there is one thing I think I 
 would like to have done. Mamma left a little money it 
 is in the bank for me. But I shall not need it. And as 
 it never belonged to any one else, I would like Tessy 
 Murray to have it." 
 
 Her eyes glistened in tears, and she turned away a 
 little. Mr. Whittingham was profoundly touched by the 
 simple, unselfish nobleness. To give away this especial 
 sum had a flavor df delicacy that one would not look for 
 in an untrained child. 
 
 "Yes, I will see about it," he said. "And now will 
 you not buy something ? " 
 
 Dell considered. 
 
 " I should like a ring for Tessy. One of the girls at 
 school has an amethyst. And a seal ring for Con. I 
 can't j'ust think of anything else." 
 
 " You were very happy with the Murrays ? I hope vou 
 will like Sherburne House. Of course you will when you 
 are grown a young lady."
 
 46 SHERBURNK HOi'SK. 
 
 "I never shall, never!" She uttered tliis with a 
 strange solemnity. 
 
 They came to the jewel counter, and looked at the 
 rings. Dell selected two. 
 
 " Will you tell me if they are too costly," said she, with 
 a certain embarrassed hesitation. 
 
 " No, you have chosen very judiciously." 
 
 She smiled again. He became aware then that her 
 eyes were really fine. And the curious curling lashes had 
 an almost dazzling effect. 
 
 She took her two little boxes with a thrill of pleasure. 
 Then they sauntered around until they came in sight of 
 Miss Sherburne. She had finished Dell's shopping, but 
 she had some few errands yet to undertake. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham explained that he had promised to 
 return the child to the Murrays for this last night, as no 
 doubt she would be only a trouble at the hotel, and tire 
 Miss Sherburne. 
 
 " I dare say she would be an annoyance," and the 
 poor lady looked worried to death now. " She is the 
 most stolid and uninteresting child I ever met. How 
 I am to endure her until she does get humanized I can- 
 not divine. Yes, I think your plan is best. There will 
 be the packing, and I should like a comfortable night's 
 sleep. Suppose you take her back and come for me at 
 Tiffany's?" 
 
 A cold farewell passed between Dell and Miss Sher- 
 burne, with strict injunctions not to delay them in the 
 morning. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham was totally unused to childhood. 
 He cast about to see if there was any comfort he could 
 give. 
 
 "Will Miss Sherburne " how should Dell put the 
 question ? " Must I live with her ? " 
 
 " She has taken charge of Sherburne House since 
 your grandmother died. Your father was then only
 
 HO W DELL FOUGHT IT OUT. 47 
 
 a little boy. And your cousins, the Beaumanoirs, are 
 very fond of her. Some of your cousins- are always 
 there." 
 
 Dell had the vaguest idea of Sherburne House. But 
 if it had been Paradise, in her present state of mind, any- 
 thing else would have been preferred. 
 
 "You must endeavor t ( o make yourself at home and be 
 happy." 
 
 Dell turned away. Her eyes were full of tears. And 
 in a few moments they reached Murray's Row. Aunt 
 Maggie was there with her baby, to hear the result of 
 the morning. And she declared Dell one of the luckiest 
 of girls. 
 
 Con and Tessy went wild over their rings. They 
 almost envied her. Oh, did they realize what it would be 
 to live with that dreadful woman ! Her head throbbed, 
 her brain and heart were on fire, and her eyes ached with 
 their overflow of tears. 
 
 "Oh, mavourneen," said Densie, "you'll break my 
 heart entirely with your sad face. When the Lord sends 
 good fortune to any one a little girl like you she ought 
 to be grateful. You do not know how full the world is 
 of nice people, but you must not shut your eyes and 
 refuse their kindness. God will keep you, my dear, and 
 help you over the rough places. Some day you will 
 come back and visit us, and we'll both smile over the 
 trials of this time." 
 
 Dell went away by herself under the old apple-tree. 
 Did they really mind so little about her leaving them ? 
 They would not 'have to live with dreadful Miss Sher- 
 burne. She felt ns if she could fly to the ends of the 
 earth. She looked up over the hilly outline of the 
 country beyond. What if she ran away? 
 
 The neighbors kept coming in, and all was a kind 
 of confused jumble that nngered poor, nervous Dell, 
 with every pulse strained to the uttermost. Then
 
 48 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Densie put her to bed, with some sweet kisses. She 
 wanted to cry over her, but, with a great effort, re- 
 frained. 
 
 " You must think that to-night your sweet mother up 
 in heaven is glad to have her little girl come into her 
 very own fortune, and that she, above all others, hopes 
 to have you grow up into a nice, sweet, noble woman. 
 You'll think of us often, and know that we think of you. 
 And you'll write and let us know about yourself There, 
 dear, don't cry any more. The good God will be there 
 as well as here." 
 
 She tossed and tumbled in a strange passion of rest- 
 lessness. Everywhere Miss Sherburne's cold eyes 
 seemed to follow her. To live with them, to have 
 them watch one, judge one. order one Dell was half 
 crazy with the thought. She fell into a disturbed 
 slumber, still hunted about by her enemy. 
 
 "Poor colleen," said Con Murray, pityingly. "I 
 wish it was all over." 
 
 Dell woke up in the grey dawn of the summer morn- 
 ing. There was a wild effort of some kind in her mind, 
 a desire to elude some one. What had happened to 
 her? She sat up in the bed and tried to remember. 
 Tessy was asleep by her side. 
 
 Ah, yes! To-day she was going to that hateful 
 woman. Must she ? Last night a wild idea of running 
 away occurred to her. What if she did ? What if she 
 went somewhere and stayed hid herself quite away for 
 awhile, and convinced them all that she would not go 
 to Virginia. Some one would take- her in, and they 
 would go their way in disgust and be willing to leave 
 her to the Murrays. 
 
 She did not stop to consider, but crept softly out of 
 bed, and hurried on her clothes. There was some 
 money in a little box she was saving up for Fourth 
 of July festivities. She tied it up in the corner of her
 
 HOW DELL FOUGHT IT OUT. 49 
 
 handkerchief. She did not need to take any clothes 
 she would come back in a week at the latest. With her 
 boots in her hand she crept softly downstairs. H on- 
 dark it was in the hall ! She unbolted the door cau- 
 tiously. It was so strange and solemn, with a few 
 stars still visible, but long bright rays in the east, that 
 seemed to have a suggestion of Christmas about them. 
 The .birds were singing soft songs to one another. 
 She commended herself to the care of Cod, though 
 there came a little prick of conscience. Then she sat 
 clown and put on her boots. Nero came and thrust his 
 cold nose against her cheek. 
 
 "Good Nero," she whispered. "Stay here and 
 watch the house." Then she walked slowly down to 
 the old apple-tree, considering. She must go up above 
 Harlem, in some of the old country-places. She might 
 be taken in to tend a baby she could wash dishes and 
 do a nice bit of housekeeping. 
 
 A little sound had disturbed Con Murray. Did the 
 children want anything? Perhaps it was poor Dell 
 crying. He glanced in. Why where was she ? 
 Then he hurried on his clothes, and picked his way as 
 lightly over the stairs as she had done a few moments 
 before. 
 
 The door was unbolted. Nero was not on the mat. 
 Then he was quite sure, as he stood there uncertainly, 
 that he heard a voice. 
 
 11 Nero ! Nero ! " he called. 
 
 Nero wagged his tail, but clung close to Dell. 
 
 "Go back! go back! " she cried in affright. 
 
 It was growing lighter every moment. Did he ?ee 
 a small figure down by the gate ? With a stride or two 
 he was beside her. She looked up with large, solemn, 
 entreating eyes, her face like marble in the pale light. 
 He clasped her in his arms, and she shook like an 
 aspen.
 
 50 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " Dell, my darling." He kissed her cold face. He 
 drew her to the old seat under the apple-tree. " Surely 
 you were not going to steal away like a thief or a 
 criminal ! I promised for you, if you were allowed to 
 come back last night. You would have made me guilty 
 of double dealing." 
 
 " But you would not have known. Yes, 1 was going 
 away for a little while. And when those people had 
 ^one back to Virginia I meant to return. They would 
 find it was better to let me stay with you." 
 
 "O Dell, would you have brought that terrible anx- 
 iety upon Mamma Murray and me?" said the soft, re- 
 proachful voice. " We must have searched at once for 
 you, and have moved heaven and earth to find you." 
 
 " But boys run away and I can ' t go with them." 
 
 Con Murray pressed the throbbing figure to his great 
 strong, warm heart. The sparrows were chirping to one 
 another, the robins were singing exultantly. The wind 
 stirred the leaves softly and shook out an indescribably 
 dewy fragrance ; the dim grey was melting into blue, 
 and long rays of gold were shooting up with tremulous 
 beauty that faded, and renewed itself in a host of brilliant 
 -colors and shapes. 
 
 Con Murray was not much of a hand at preaching. 
 He could live out such truths as honor, honesty, and 
 kindliness ; he could see their need of application to 
 other souls, but the formula of words did not come easy. 
 How to make courage and endurance a light to guide 
 this shrinking, protesting soul, he did not know. 
 
 He kissed her cold face, and held her tightly in his 
 arms. Ah, how beautiful God's world was! How 
 generously everything was given ! Why should one 
 try to narrow it, to go beyond and defraud another? 
 Why were not love and good will free as the sunshine, 
 when Christ himself had died that this might be ! 
 
 "Dell," softly and with great tenderness, "you
 
 HOW DELL FOUGHT IT OUT. 51 
 
 will go like a brave girl. When any clear duty is given 
 us it is ;i shame to shirk it. Only your miserable 
 coward goes skulking along behind fences instead of 
 marching out in the open road. God has given the an- 
 swer to your parents' wishes, and he has set something 
 hard for you to do to go into a strange, unfriendly 
 country. Oh, my little Dell, \ve promised your mother 
 to do the best we could for you, and now do not shame 
 our endeavor ! Come back to bed, and cuddle up warm 
 and think it over. I know you will come out on the 
 right side." 
 
 He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the 
 wide porch, abloom with honeysuckle and sweet as 
 Eden. Years afterward it came back to her. 
 
 " Dell, promise me." 
 
 "Yes," answered Dell, with a shivering sigh. 
 
 " I'll trust your promise to the uttermost. Now go 
 and roll yourself in a blanket and get warm, or you will 
 be ill." 
 
 Then he kissed her fondly. There was the making 
 of a splendid woman in her if Miss Sherburne would 
 not trim and train too sharply. 
 
 Dell lay and trembled in every fibre with nervous ex- 
 haustion. Densie kept the children so still that she and 
 Tessy never stirred until the savory fragrance of break- 
 fast greeted them. Had she been dreaming ? 
 
 " And you're here with your clothes on," cried Tessy. 
 " Sure, you've been and dressed yourself in your sleep." 
 
 Then Dell knew it was not a dream. 
 
 The carriage was to come at eight. Con had left a 
 good-bye for her. The children hated to have her go, 
 yet the wonderful happening stirred them almost with 
 envy. What the journey would be like, what she would 
 write to them, and how soon she would visit them seemed 
 the important points. And when she was a woman 
 grown she could do quite as she liked.
 
 52 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Miss Sherburne would have been horrified at the 
 throng of people around the house ; the kissing and the 
 demonstrations. Granny McCray brought an old shoe 
 to throw after her, and declared it was almost " loike a 
 weddin'. " Densie gave her one clasp of heartbreaking 
 tenderness. Then Dell stepped into the carriage, and 
 everything blurred before her eyes. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham had left an envelope directed to 
 Mr. Constantine Murray in Miss Sherburne's hand. 
 He had used his strongest powers of persuasion to in- 
 duce her to let the matter of Dell's care stand at present, 
 and not attempt any recompense. But her haughty 
 pride would not brook the sense of obligation. She en- 
 closed a check that made ample remuneration for the 
 four years. 
 
 Con flushed with indignation as he read the note. She 
 desired all communication .between Miss Lyndell Sher- 
 burne and the Murrays to cease. Her associations would 
 be so widely different that she desired to efface as soon 
 as possible all interest and reference to the past four 
 years. He would see such a step was absolutely neces- 
 sary, when he considered Miss Sherburne's future, that 
 really lay in a different world. 
 
 " Oh, how can she be so cruel ! " cried Con, wounded 
 to the soul. " To give her the very first lesson in in- 
 gratitude and indifference ! But she won't win Dell that 
 way. The child is honest and loyal, and will only hate 
 such strictures. And there must be some good in the 
 Sherburne blood when the young husband kept to his 
 wife and poverty. Some men would have returned to 
 the feasts of Egypt. And I have a feeling that some 
 day the child will come back to us with her heart warm 
 and fond as now." 
 
 The children were first heartbroken, then angry. 
 Never to hear from their own dear Dell ! Never to see 
 her again !
 
 HOW DELL FOUGHT IT OUT. 53 
 
 "She's a mean, hateful, selfish, stuck-up old maid," 
 cried Con impetuously. "And Tess, if you're an old 
 maid, you shall never come in my house or have any- 
 thing to do with my children ! " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't want to be one," sobbed Tessy at 
 this dire threat. "I'm going to 1 be just like my own 
 sweet mamma, and have seven children of my very own. 
 So, there now, Con ! " and Tessy kissed her ring, which 
 \vas to be a great comfort to her. 
 
 But the house seemed just as if there had been a death. 
 Con tore his check in pieces and returned it to Miss 
 Sherburne without a word. The whole neighborhood 
 mourned her loss, and yet they could not but rejoice 
 in her good fortune. Mrs. Edson, whose baby she had 
 cared for, and with whom she had gone to the matinee, 
 came down to hear the whole strange adventure. 
 
 "It is like a page out of a fairy story," she said with 
 a smile. "And I am sure she deserved it. I hope it 
 won't spoil her. She has such a warm, generous heart, 
 and is so utterly honest ! I always thought she was your 
 very own, Mrs. Murray." 
 
 " I could wish she had been," replied motherly 
 Densie. " And yet we couldn't have done for her as 
 her people will. Heaven knows I hope it will be all for 
 the best." 
 
 "And I hope she will not prove ungrateful to the 
 people who have been so good to her ! She ought to 
 keep a warm corner in her heart for you, always." 
 
 "That she will," said Mrs. Murray. 
 
 And yet it would be hard to explain why they could 
 never hear. Densie shed many sad tears over Miss 
 Sherburne's edict.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 
 
 MR. WHITTINGHAM paused at the hotel to take up 
 Miss Sherburne, a traveling satchel and a parcel or two, 
 the trunk having gone by express. They crossed the 
 ferry and entered a drawing-room car. Mr. Whitting- 
 ham seated Dell, bought her a package of candy, and 
 an illustrated paper, but both lay undisturbed in her lap. 
 A chill, despairing lethargy had crept over her. She 
 did not want to cry, she seemed to have no power for 
 anything ; as if a terrible storm had swept over her, 
 leaving her bruised and maimed, flung on some un- 
 friendly coast. There was a dull ache in every nerve. 
 
 It was a misfortune that these two people, destined 
 to be such close companions, and united by ties of 
 relationship, should begin by a violent dislike. Miss 
 Sherburne had by this time reached her threescore 
 years. She was tall, erect, and not only had an im- 
 posing figure, but an authoritative one. Her complexion 
 was fine and very little wrinkled, with usually a soft, 
 pink tint in the cheeks. Her face was a rather long oval, 
 and a habit of dignity kept her from softening into a 
 double chin or relaxing lines about the mouth. Her hair 
 was a light brown, abundant, and very little touched by 
 silver. Her eyes had been a deep, violet-blue, but now 
 had come to have the colder steel lights. Ordinarily, 
 she would be called a still handsome woman. Now she 
 \vas suffering from a keen disappointment, nervous, anx- 
 ious days and sleepless nights. Her whole soul was in a 
 protest against this girl they were forced to accept, and 
 
 54
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 55 
 
 whom she did not believe in her soul was a true Sher- 
 burne. She obstinately clung to a feeling that some- 
 where a deception would be unearthed. Then she felt 
 indignant that Dell should not be overwhelmed with de- 
 light at her new prospects, and positively vexed that she 
 was so plain, with no distinguishing marks of her good 
 birth and old family characteristics ; that her life should 
 have been cast among Irish immigrants until she had no 
 higher ambition than they. 
 
 Now and then Dell caught sight of the cold, critical 
 face. She felt that Miss Sherburne despised her, that 
 every movement was in some way displeasing, that she was 
 being unjustly judged. It filled her with a secret indig- 
 nation, it led her to adopt a rigorous system of retaliatory 
 repression. Miss Sherburne should know nothing of 
 what was going on in her inmost soul. 
 
 Yet Dell's spontaneity and youthful longing for love 
 would have led her to accept the merest olive-branch in 
 the beginning. A wiser woman could have found the 
 way to her heart and disarmed all her bitter prejudices. 
 But the journey settled the distance between them effec- 
 tually. 
 
 Miss Sherburne was trying, with what she meant for 
 religious resignation, to bring her mind to an acceptance 
 of the position and its duties. A clumsy, overgrown, 
 unhandsome girl, whose delight was in dancing to a 
 parcel of Irish children in full view of a public street, 
 could have no proper sense of pride or dignity. Her 
 natural affinities must be low. She must be held with a 
 tight rein, or she would be continually demolishing the 
 fences of propriety. She could not be allowed the least 
 indulgence, or her barbarian habits would break out into 
 license. How to train her to a proper understanding of 
 her position, how to teach her respect, refinement as 
 for elegance, that would always be out of the question. 
 She sighed at the magnitude of her task. There was no
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 
 
 MR. WHITTINGHAM paused at the hotel to take up 
 Miss Sherburne, a traveling satchel and a parcel or two, 
 the trunk having gone by express. They crossed the 
 ferry and entered a drawing-room car. Mr. Whitting- 
 ham seated Dell, bought her a package of candy, and 
 an illustrated paper, but both lay undisturbed in her lap. 
 A chill, despairing lethargy had crept over her. She 
 did not want to cry, she seemed to have no power for 
 anything ; as if a terrible storm had swept over her, 
 leaving her bruised and maimed, flung on some un- 
 friendly coast. There was a dull ache in every nerve. 
 
 It was a misfortune that these two people, destined 
 to be such close companions, and united by ties of 
 relationship, should begin by a violent dislike. Miss 
 Sherburne had by this time reached her threescore 
 years. She was tall, erect, and not only had an im- 
 posing figure, but an authoritative one. Her complexion 
 was fine and very little wrinkled, with usually a soft, 
 pink tint in the cheeks. Her face was a rather long oval, 
 and a habit of dignity kept her from softening into a 
 double chin or relaxing lines about the mouth. Her hair 
 was a light brown, abundant, and very little touched by 
 silver. Her eyes had been a deep, violet-blue, but now- 
 had come to have the colder steel lights. Ordinarily, 
 she would be called a still handsome woman. Now she 
 was suffering from a keen disappointment, nervous, anx- 
 ious days and sleepless nights. Her whole soul was in a 
 protest against this girl they were forced to accept, and 
 54
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 55 
 
 whom she did not believe in her soul was a true Sher- 
 burne. She obstinately clung to a feeling that some- 
 where a deception would be unearthed. Then she felt 
 indignant that Dell should not be overwhelmed with de- 
 light at her new prospects, and positively vexed that she 
 was so plain, \\ith no distinguishing marks of her good 
 birth and old family characteristics ; that her life should 
 have been cast among Irish immigrants until she had no 
 higher ambition than they. 
 
 Now and then Dell caught sight of the cold, critical 
 face. She felt that Miss Sherburne despised her, that 
 every movement was in some way displeasing, that she was 
 being unjustly judged. It filled her with a secret indig- 
 nation, it led her to adopt a rigorous system of retaliatory 
 repression. Miss Sherburne should know nothing of 
 what was going on in her inmost soul. 
 
 Ye,t Dell's spontaneity and youthful longing for love 
 would have led her to accept the merest olive-branch in 
 the beginning. A wiser woman could have found the 
 way to her heart and disarmed all her bitter prejudices. 
 But the journey settled the distance between them effec- 
 tually. 
 
 Miss Sherburne was trying, with what she meant for 
 religious resignation, to bring her mind to an acceptance 
 of the position and its duties. A clumsy, overgrown, 
 unhandsome girl, Vhose delight was in dancing to a 
 parcel of Irish children in full view of a public street, 
 could have no proper sense of pride or dignity. Her 
 natural affinities must be low. She must be held with a 
 tight rein, or she would be continually demolishing the 
 fences of propriety. She could not be allowed the least 
 indulgence, or her barbarian habits would break out into 
 license. How to train her to a proper understanding of 
 her position, how to teach her respect, refinement as 
 for elegance, that would always be out of the question. 
 She sighed at the magnitude of her task. There was no
 
 58 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 There was the usual group of idlers about. The 
 search for the heir of Sherburne House could not be 
 conducted in secrecy. Nearly every one had hoped 
 young Beaumanoir would in some way be entitled to it. 
 Of course young Master Edward's unlucky marriage had 
 been gossiped about in its time, but his death was sup- 
 posed to have extinguished his claim. Miss Sherburne's 
 cheek burned with mortification, as this unstylish girl 
 walked rather hesitatingly down the platform, and was 
 handed into the family carriage. 
 
 " Glad to see you back again, missis," said the respect- 
 ful colored servitor, with a grave air, a sort of family 
 dignity and inheritance. "An" is dis Mas'r Edward's 
 darter? " 
 
 " This is Miss Sherburne yes. There are the checks, 
 Ajax. One trunk and a parcel." 
 
 Ajax assisted the two ladies in, then turned to Mr. 
 Whittingham. 
 
 "You will come over and take tea with us?" said 
 Miss Sherburne. 
 
 " If you will be good enough to excuse me until to- 
 morrow I am quite sure there must be important 
 letters awaiting me. You have settled upon Mr. 
 Beaumanoir for the other guardian and trustee ? " 
 
 "That is simply due to the family," she said, with a 
 feeling that she was once more on her own ground. 
 
 " Yes. If you will be kind enough to ask him to meet 
 me." 
 
 " To-morrow, then. Thanks for all your trouble." 
 
 The gentleman touched his hat with a fine courtesy 
 and raised his eyes to Dell's face. Ajax mounted his 
 seat and they drove out of the town, soon reaching a 
 road that led through a plantation of young evergreens. 
 There was a sparse settlement at the end of this, then a 
 i ' Mitiful diversified country. 
 
 Dell uttered no word. A sort of mysterious terror
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 59 
 
 seized upon her, and her breath came in gasps. She 
 was a prisoner being taken to some far fortress. A sud- 
 den passion overwhelmed her. She could see Mamma 
 Murray sewing under the old apple-tree, Morna play- 
 ing about, Laddie in the hammock. 
 
 "That is the drive to Beaumanoir," announced Miss 
 Sherburne, indicating it with her head. "All this is 
 Sherburne. I hope you will never disgrace so proud 
 a heritage. You are Miss Sherb'urne, you will remem- 
 ber." 
 
 Dell shut her lips tightly. She was so near to cry- 
 ing at her own vision that the reaction gave her a half- 
 sullen aspect. 
 
 Miss Sherburne lost her self-control. " You might 
 at least evince ordinary gratitude and intelligence," she 
 cried in a temper. "You have been rescued from a 
 life coarse and common in the extreme, but I am afraid 
 you are better suited to that than to this. It t's a pity 
 matters should turn out this way. You do not deserve 
 it." 
 
 Dell's first impulse was to flame up in a passion. But 
 she felt too sick and sore. She realized that she was 
 considered an interloper, that the past and her dear 
 Murrays were despised. 
 
 After a long wind through another row of evergreens 
 they reached a beautiful open space. Waving fields, 
 orchards, graperies, a profusion of blossoming shrub- 
 bery, a village of negro-quarters in the distance, tidily 
 kept and clean with whitewash. Then the trees thinned, 
 and on a slight elevation stood Sherburne House. The 
 main building was a large, square, two-story edifice, and 
 a little back of this was a wing stretching to the south, 
 leaving a large porch in the break made by the angle. 
 The facade proper had a wide piazza roof upheld by 
 fluted columns, and a luxurious wealth of vines rioting 
 everywhere.
 
 60 SHER BURNS HOUSE. 
 
 They drove around to the side entrance, a little less 
 imposing but equally beautiful. A dozen negroes of 
 either sex, young and old, ran forward to greet their 
 mistress with a most obsequious welcome. 
 
 "Tins is Miss Sherburne," she announced with a 
 bitter sort of dignity, stung at the thought of her having 
 a real right here. 
 
 " Praise de Lawd ! " cried a bent old woman, with a 
 strong, intelligent face. " 1 nebber 'spected to see 
 Mars' Edward's little gal." 
 
 " That will do." Miss Sherburne turned Dell before 
 her and entered the hall. 
 
 There was an eager rush, a cloud of golden hair and 
 two outstretched arms. 
 
 " We are all here ! We thought you would never get 
 back. And did you bring " 
 
 "Dear Aunt," said a pretty, graceful girl. "Why 
 P* ranees, you are too demonstrative," and she kissed 
 the traveler. 
 
 A stately, imposing woman followed, whose train 
 rustled over the floor. 
 
 " Dear Aunt Aurelia," she exclaimed, " how tired you 
 look ! Girls do give your aunt a chance to enter the 
 room. And is this Edward's child? " 
 
 They reached the sitting-room in a huddle. Mrs. 
 Beaumanoir placed her aunt in a chair, and hovered 
 around. The elder took off her bonnet and mantle. 
 
 "Yes," said Miss Sherburne unwillingly. "There 
 seems no legal reason for disbelieving it. This is your 
 aunt Beaumanoir, Lyndell, and these are two of your 
 cousins, Violet and Frances. You will find her well, I 
 am tired to death with the whole thing !" and Miss 
 Sherburne seemed to relax utterly. Any other woman 
 would have given way to angry tears. 
 
 Dell shrank back. Every pulse was in a quiver of 
 indignation. Their manner placed her outside the pale
 
 61 
 
 of welcome. The girls looked so lovely and refined in 
 their soft white dresses and flowing ribbons, the elder tall 
 and slim, the younger a golden-haired fairy. They re- 
 sembled the rich people in the Park, between whom and 
 the Hurrays there was a great gulf. 
 
 "Do speak!" Miss Sherburne shook Dell by the 
 arm. " I am tired of your taciturnity. Have you any 
 intelligence at all ? Here, Cassy, take her hat. Cato, 
 the trunk goes up in my room. Perhaps we had all 
 better go, now that I have found my breath. The air is 
 dry and dusty, and we must be freshened up for supper. 
 Did you get the room arranged, Cassy ? " 
 
 " Yes'm," said the slim mulatto girl who had gathered 
 up the stray articles. 
 
 "Well, Lyndell, you may go upstairs with her, and I 
 will come in a moment or two with the keys." 
 
 " You may run up if you want to, Frances," said her 
 mother. 
 
 "It is too, too heartrending," began Miss Sherburne 
 and her tremulous voice attested her sincerity. " If we 
 could have known in the beginning ! Yet somehow I 
 only half believe she is Edward's child. Of course they 
 had all the papers, but they were in such order that it 
 seemed almost like a plot. And four years with that 
 Irish tribe ! " 
 
 " Were they any connection ? " 
 
 "O no! This Maggie Murray came over in the 
 steamer with her, and they took her to Mr. Murray's 
 house. I would give every dollar I possess if I could 
 plant her in the Murray family so securely that she might 
 never be able to disown that parentage. A great awk- 
 ward creature, ignorant, disagreeable in the extreme. O 
 my dear Laura, I shudder to think of the trial before us 
 all. I had grown to almost idolize Edward's memory, 
 and he was so dear to me. But now all the old dis- 
 pleasure returns."
 
 62 SHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 "You are tired and excited," said her niece sym- 
 pathetically. "After you have had a cup of tea you 
 will feel stronger. There, I shall curb my impatience 
 until then." 
 
 They both rose and walked slowly up the broad stair- 
 case. 
 
 Frances had followed Cassy with some curiosity. 
 
 They crossed a large roo,m that looked delightfully 
 cool with its matted floor, white curtains and bed, and 
 bamboo furniture. There was one adjoining, quite as 
 deep, but not so wide, and with a single bed. 
 
 "This is to be your room at present," said Cassy, in 
 a soft voice that sounded very grateful to Dell's shaken 
 nerves. " Are you dreadfully tired? " 
 
 " Yes," briefly. 
 
 " You never took such a long journey before, did 
 you?" asked F ranees, with a kind of pert patronage. 
 
 . " Yes, when we came to America, and I once went to 
 Scotland with mamma." 
 
 Frances stared. 
 
 " I am going abroad in a year or so," she continued 
 presently, with a toss of her golden head. 
 
 Cassy took off Dell's dress, bathed her face in some 
 fragrant water, and brushed out her hair. Then Miss 
 Sherburne came up the trunk was unstrapped and sev- 
 eral dresses taken out. Cassy selected a plainly made 
 white one. 
 
 " You are very good, thank you," said Dell is a quiv- 
 ering voice, when she was through. 
 
 Frances tittered a little, and Dell flushed scarlet. 
 
 " I am very glad to be of service to you," returned 
 Cassy, with a kind of rebuking dignity meant for 
 Frances and lost upon her. 
 
 "Now you children may go down again," said Miss 
 Sherburne. 
 
 "What a shocking figure!" cried Mrs. Beaumanoir.
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME* 63 
 
 " She looks as robust as a German field hand's-offspring. 
 If Edward's child only had been a boy ! " 
 
 " She ought to be ! And how is one ever to get her 
 trained to any decent behavior? She has run wild with 
 a parcel of street arabs. You never saw such actions ! 
 It was disgraceful ! 
 
 " Well, you can send her to school to tone her down. 
 What is this beauty to be called ? " 
 
 " I have been considering that. Her name is Honora 
 Lyndell. I shouldn't want to use her mother's name, 
 and Honora always does have an Irish sound to me. 
 Lyndell is a queer name for a girl, and it is your mother's 
 family name " hesitatingly. 
 
 " It has a style, and she wants something to balance 
 that ungainly figure. She is not as tall as Frances, and 
 would make two of her in breadth. You will have to 
 starve her for a while." 
 
 Gassy was busy about her mistress, but the ladies did 
 not heed her presence while they fully discussed the un- 
 welcome newcomer. 
 
 Frances Beaumanoir had led her cousin downstairs 
 again, and out on the southern veranda, where Violet 
 stood idly glancing over the lawn. Then she paused 
 abruptly. 
 
 "We don't really know your name," she said. 
 
 Dell hesitated. " My whole name is Honora Lyn- 
 dell. But I have always been called Dell." 
 
 " Why, that is short and pretty," said Violet turning. 
 
 " But it isn't a girl's name," protested Frances, 
 rather captiously. " It was grandmamma's name. Milli- 
 cent Lyndell our Milly is named for her, and she has a 
 friend called Honor. Are you really English ? I 
 thought English girls were slim. And oh, my, you are 
 not " 
 
 " Frances! " interposed Violet. 
 
 1 know I am not pretty." Dell was struggling with
 
 -64 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 tears and the flush of mortification that made her face 
 redder than before. " But at Mamma Murray's no one 
 cared." 
 
 " Did you have to call her mamma? She wasn't your 
 mother. They just kept you." 
 
 " They kept me when mamma died. They loved me. 
 I wish I could have stayed with them always ! " 
 
 " But they were Irish ! " 
 
 " I don't care if they were ! " cried Dell passionately. 
 " I wish I had been their very own child and I should 
 not have had to come here. I hate the place ! I al- 
 ways shall ! I would not stay an hour if I could help it. 
 And when I get to be a woman I shall go away go 
 back to them ! " 
 
 Violet had been taking Dell's points in a rather super- 
 cilious manner. She was shocked at the outburst, and 
 said : " That will do, Fanny. Don't tease." 
 
 " But you have a horrid temper, hasn't she, Vi ? And 
 the idea of wanting to live with Irish people when you 
 could come to Sherburne House. Were they so very 
 rich and elegant? " 
 
 "They were better than any of you," cried Dell de- 
 fiantly ; her eyes in a blaze. 
 
 " Fanny, you must not quarrel. What will Aunt 
 Sherburne say ? " 
 
 Dell escaped suddenly from her tormentor, flying into 
 the sitting-room. 
 
 " O Frances ! how could you ! " 
 
 "Must she really be our cousin, Vi ? I think she is 
 horrid! And her hair is red, redder, reddish, easily 
 compared, and she hasn't a bit of a figure. Must she 
 take Sherburne House away from dear Len ? It's 
 shameful ! " 
 
 The supper bell rang. The ladies came downstairs. 
 Dell suddenly brushed away her tears, but her eyes told 
 tales.
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 65- 
 
 " I wish you could leave off crying a little while," said 
 Miss Sherburne complainingly. "You cannot afford to 
 make yourself a fright. And it is so very disagreeable 
 for those about you." 
 
 Frances looked eagerly at Dell, expecting some show 
 of temper, but she simply stood silent, her face settling 
 into rigid lines. 
 
 " She is extremely unpretty," the child thought. Then 
 she studied Violet's clear skin, small, dainty mouth, 
 graceful turn of the head, and she knew she was not de- 
 ficient in personal charms. The Sherburnes had always 
 been noted for pretty women, and Milly was a pro- 
 nounced beauty. Frances had always heard about the 
 Sherburne good looks. 
 
 She and Dell walked down one side of the table. 
 Violet opposite, the ladies at the head and foot. Miss 
 Sherburne asked a reverent blessing. She had taken 
 the head of the family in all things, during her brother's 
 illness. 
 
 Lyndell felt strange enough. The room was very 
 huge, wainscoted, and with painted walls and ceiling. 
 At one side, opposite the windows, stood a massive an- 
 tique sideboard in old mahogany, with no end of carv- 
 ing. At one end a very handsome pier table, and at the 
 other a huge fireplace, ornamented over the mantel with 
 branching antlers, ahd queer trophies. There was a row 
 of quaint scriptural tiling set about the jambs. A pair of 
 brass andirons crossed each other, and at either end a 
 great jar with ferns and feathery asparagus. 
 
 At the south side were three deep windows with dia- 
 mond-shaped panes of glass, and inviting recessed seats. 
 A door, half sash, opened on the veranda. The fragrant 
 air swept through, sweet with jasmin, and honeysuckle, 
 and if Dell could have entered the room under any other 
 circumstances she would have stood tranced in delight. 
 
 They all fell to talking, yet she realized with a keen
 
 66 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 nervous sense, that is like a positive pain, the stress 
 of these unfriendly eyes. Fortunately for her, Densie 
 Murray had taught her children to behave properly at 
 the table. She neither ate with her knife nor tumbled 
 over her glass of milk nor dropped her biscuit, and 
 she certainly was at home with a napkin. If Violet's 
 large dark eyes had not so persistently studied her ! 
 The girl was strenuously objecting to a great disap- 
 pointment. For it had been agreed was indeed Mr. 
 Sherburne's plan that if Edward's child should die 
 without inheriting, Sherburne House should go to 
 Leonard Beaumanoir, he taking the family name, 
 while the valuable coal and iron lands should be 
 divided between Mrs. Lepage and Mrs. Stanwood. 
 Violet had still another solution, a girl's romantic end- 
 ing. If this unwelcome cousin should have to come 
 and deprive Leonard of what was almost his birth- 
 right, might he not, in the course of time, marry her 
 and thus win back his heritage? But this coarse, 
 blowsy, sunburned girl, with hair of curiously faded 
 streaks, no style, no figure, no charm of any kind, 
 dull and ignorant oh, why must she come to spoil 
 everything ! She felt that she should never be able 
 to like her. And Aunt Sherburne was so fond of 
 Leonard ! 
 
 A young colored lad, Julius by name, waited upon 
 the table. There was a little general talk about the 
 journey and New York in the summer. When they 
 all rose, Dell's impulse was to set back her chair, but 
 the creak as it moved on the polished floor startled 
 her, and she saw Frances walk away carelessly, so she 
 followed. 
 
 " Frances," said Mrs. Beaumanoir, " you may take 
 Lyndell down the path a short distance, and perhaps 
 you will meet papa." 
 
 " Violet, you come with us."
 
 MUST THIS BE HOMEf 67 
 
 Violet shook her head slowly. There were some 
 questions she wanted to ask. 
 
 " What did you do when you were at the Murrays ? " 
 queried Frances. 
 
 " I went to school," briefly. 
 
 " Did you study French and music?" 
 
 " No it was a public school." 
 
 " Why, it must have been like the schools for the 
 children of the freedmen. W 7 asn't it dreadful with 
 everybody ?" and the child made a gesture of disgust. 
 
 " A great many rich children went to our school," 
 said Dell, rather pridefully. 
 
 " I shouldn't think they would. We have a govern- 
 ess. I suppose you will have one. You will have 
 so many things to learn, you know," with an assump- 
 tion of authority. 
 
 Dell was silent. 
 
 "What were the Murray children like?" continued 
 Frances. 
 
 " Like other children," said Dell shortly. "Con 
 was a big boy, and Tessy was ten months younger 
 than I. Then they went on down to the baby." 
 
 " Con ? What was his real name? " 
 
 " Constantine. And Tessy's was Teresa. Then 
 there was Jamsie and Morna, and the others were 
 boys." 
 
 "Were they very Irish ? " asked Frances. 
 
 "I don't know what you mean?" Dell's temper 
 vvns rising. " Mr. Murray came from Ireland but 1 
 was born in England, and I nm not English." 
 
 "Yes, you are. Mamma said that was the only re- 
 deeming feature." 
 
 I am an American," Dell said decisively. "And so 
 are they." 
 
 Then she glanced over the wide expanse, the clumps 
 of trees, the thickets of flowers, the winding drive.
 
 68 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "You never saw anything like this?" commenced 
 Frances, bent on extinguishing the interloper. 
 
 " Central Park is handsomer. We used to go down 
 often, always on Saturday. \Ve lived very near." 
 
 " Near Central Park ! Why, I thought only rich peo- 
 ple could live there," and Frances opened wide her 
 blue-grey eyes. " Milly spent Easter with a friend she 
 has there. And it was elegant, aristocratic." 
 
 "Who is Milly?" 
 
 " Why, my sister. She is a very handsome young 
 lady and was introduced at Washington last winter. 
 And she will make a splendid marriage. I wish I was 
 old enough to be introduced." 
 
 Dell was not interested in such matters. She was 
 thinking that she did not like Frances. Then carriage 
 wheels crunched along the path. 
 
 " O, that's my papa ! " 
 
 " Hillo! " cried a mellow voice, and a gentleman sprang 
 out. " Has Aunt Sherburne come? And who is this ?" 
 
 " This is " Frances hesitated. 
 
 " I am Honora Lyndell Sherburne," the child, said 
 stiffly. Then with a swelling heart she added, " And oh, 
 I wish I was Dell Murray again." 
 
 "And she would like to go back," declared Frances. 
 
 "That's a little bit of homesickness, you know. 
 When you really get used to Sherburne you will begin 
 to appreciate your good fortune. And you are really 
 poor Ned's child ! Well, since we have you here, we 
 must do the best we can for you." 
 
 " O, I wish you did not need to do anything," cried 
 Dell passionately. " I wish you could take it back, and 
 I need not have to live here. But it will be eight years, 
 papa Murray told me 
 
 " Long before the eight years have come and gone 
 we shall all be good friends. We were fond of your 
 father. Where are the folks, Fan?"
 
 MUST THIS BE HOME? 69 
 
 " O, up at the house." 
 
 He put one arm over Dell's shoulder, but she un- 
 graciously shook it off. If some one would give her a 
 word of welcome ! 
 
 They went up the wide steps of the veranda. Dell 
 remained out of doors. She had a feeling that no one 
 wanted her. 
 
 Presently Violet came out. She paused beside the 
 hammock and stirred it idly. 
 
 " Did you ever swing in a hammock?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes." Dell stood up very straight. "You all seem 
 to think I have just come out of the woods," she said 
 angrily. 
 
 Violet turned away and left her alone. 
 
 Inside they were still at the interminable subject. 
 Mr. Beaumanoir shook hands with and gently kissed Miss 
 Sherburne. 
 
 "You must be tired to death," he said, "and the 
 carriage is here to take all of us home. I saw our new 
 relative. She seems stout and hearty, and I hope you 
 will get on comfortably. Does she resemble her 
 father ? ' ' 
 
 " She is an utter barbarian. I can't imagine a more 
 disagreeable child ! " 
 
 " With an abundance of temper," added Violet. 
 
 " We must make some allowance for the poor strange 
 thing. But, Aunt Aurelia, it does seem hard that you 
 should have to shoulder this burthen. What can we do 
 to help? Has Whittingham any plans? " 
 
 " He will be here to supper to-morrow evening, and 
 wishes to see you and settle the legal matters. You and 
 he will be guardians. Of course, distasteful as it may 
 be, I deem it my duty to undertake the regular care of 
 the child. This is my home as well as hers. She has 
 been exposed to all those mischievous radical beliefs that 
 undermine one's respect for the sanctity of the home of
 
 70 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 one's ancestors, and the truths that have been part of our 
 lives, obedience, reverence, and regard for one's elders. 
 It certainly will be a disheartening task. And to think 
 of Sherburne House going into such hands! 
 
 " A good many things may come to pass in the space 
 of eight years," said Mr. Beaumanoir in a consolatory 
 tone. " Of course we are all disappointed at the turn of 
 affairs, it would be useless to deny it ; but the child's 
 rights are an established fact, and we all have enough 
 reason and religion to make the best of it. And now, 
 come, put on your wraps and let us return home. 
 Aunt Sherburne needs a good night's rest as much as 
 anything." 
 
 There was a little commotion of getting ready. They 
 gave Dell a good-night as she stood quite by herself on 
 the porch. 
 
 Then they drove away, and Miss Sherburne said in a 
 rather rasped and fretful tone : 
 
 " Cassy, you may take Miss Lyndell upstairs to bed." 
 
 The roorrl was pretty and sweet with dewy fragrances, 
 but in all the wide world there was not a more miserable 
 little girl than the heiress of Sherburne House !
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NOT QUITE A BARBARIAN. 
 
 Miss SHERBURNE'S grievances grew larger with the 
 brooding she gave them. She was physically tired, her 
 nerves were strained to their utmost tension. The disap- 
 pointment had not so utterly appalled her until she real- 
 ized that her nephew's heir was really here, hedged 
 about with the protection of the law on every hand, and 
 she belonged to a law-abiding race. But it was bitter to 
 see this utter stranger come in and carry off the old fam- 
 ily honors, perhaps marry foolishly and dissipate the 
 fine old estate that had descended in a straight line for 
 nearly two centuries. 
 
 She arose in the morning unrefreshed. There were so 
 many things awaiting her attention. Of course nothing 
 could have gone on quite right without her at the head. 
 
 When Dell opened her eyes the sun was shining 
 brightly, and oh, how the birds sang ! Where was she? 
 She glanced around the pretty room with its cool blue 
 and white furnishing, and the shadowy grey-green light 
 sifted in through the vines. It seemed a sort of fairy- 
 land, and it was some minutes before she could remem- 
 ber the transformation. 
 
 Presently there was A light tap at the door, and Cassy 
 entered. 
 
 " Am I very late ? " the child asked. 
 
 " Oh, no ; " and Cassy gave a reassuring if rather se- 
 rious smile, as she began toilette preparations. 
 
 " I am used to dressing myself," she began. 
 
 71
 
 72 SHERBUENE HOUSE. 
 
 " I always wait on the young ladies when they are 
 here. Miss Sherburne prefers it." 
 
 Dell made no further demur. Cassy was so deft and 
 gentle that it was a pleasure to have her ministrations. 
 She selected one of the new ginghams, and found a 
 white apron. Just then there was a step in the adjoining 
 room. 
 
 " I hope you will soon feel at home, Miss Dell," she 
 said in a low tone, but the sympathy kindled a quick, 
 grateful smile. And now Cassy remarked that Dell's 
 eyes were lovely in the dewy freshness of restful slum- 
 ber. The red and swollen appearance had gone out of 
 her face and her skin was soft and fine. Neither was 
 she rude nor awkward in her movements. 
 
 "Good-morning," Miss Sherburne said, " I shall ex- 
 pect you always to come and bid me good-morning." 
 
 " We always did at Mamma Murray's," Dell began to 
 explain, when she was interrupted peremptorily. 
 
 " I do not wish you to use any such term. Mrs. Mur- 
 ray never was your mother in any sense. For the future 
 speak of her by her proper name. It is my desire to 
 have you trained in a mode of behavior suitable to your 
 station, and to begin immediately." 
 
 Dell's face was one scarlet protest. " She was the 
 dearest of mothers to me," she said with a swelling heart. 
 
 " I will have no impertinent rejoinders. And you may 
 as well understand in the beginning, that you are to blot 
 out the past four years, as if they had never been." 
 
 Dell was trembling with resentment and cast her eyes 
 down on the floor. 
 
 " Can you not answer? I am* not used to such boor- 
 ishness." 
 
 " I I " and the child's eyes overflowed with tears. 
 
 "There, you have cried enough in the last few days 
 to set any one wild. I have no patience with such 
 tears. You ought to rejoice that God has been good
 
 NO T QUITE A BARBARIAN. 73 
 
 enough to rescue you from that poverty-stricken life and 
 vulgar surroundings, and place you in your present 
 position. I object to being treated to continual showers 
 of tears."' 
 
 Miss Sherburne walked down the wide stairs with a 
 stately step, and Dell followed, crowding down her 
 emotions, and setting her lips firmly. There was a 
 brief prayer service in a small office room, and the 
 house servants came in, casting curious glances at Dell. 
 Afterward, as they were about to disperse, she announced 
 stiffly : 
 
 " This is my grand niece, Miss Lyndell Sherburne." 
 
 Then they went out to breakfast, which was laid on a 
 small round table between two of the windows. Julius 
 waited upon them. Dell was really too frightened to eat, 
 but fortunately committed no gaucheries. 
 
 Afterward Miss Sherburne stood debating in a most 
 impatient manner. She was so accustomed to go about 
 her own affairs without having any one to consider. 
 There was the house to look over, accounts to make up, 
 the servants to put back in their places. It was one of 
 the articles of her belief that every person in an inferior 
 position took advantage of the least relaxation of au- 
 thority. But what was to be done with Dell? She could 
 not turn her loose in the library ; she did not want her 
 meddling or rambling about. 
 
 " You may go and sit on the veranda," she said. " I 
 shall be busy awhile. In a day or two we will have 
 some plans and studies. You know nothing of music, of 
 course ? " * 
 
 " No," answered Dell quietly. 
 
 She went out on the porch, and presently settled her- 
 self in the hammock. Oh, what a riotous tangle of vines 
 and flowers ! Through one space she could see a tiny 
 sumrnerhouse covered with morning-glories of every 
 tint. She had a wild impulse to run down there, then
 
 74 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 she thought Miss Sherburne might be displeased. Over 
 yonder was a thicket of roses. She drew long, throb- 
 bing breaths of pure delight. Was this really to be hers 
 some day ! Oh, if she might have Tessy and Con ! 
 She could imagine some of the little arms clinging arouiui 
 her neck. 
 
 The birds came and sung to her, peering through the 
 vines with black beady eyes. A scarlet tanager made a 
 swift dazzle in the sunshine. Squirrels tan up and down 
 the great oak trees. Oh, how unutterably lovely every- 
 thing was! A new passion stirred within Dell's soul 
 with an intense pang that she was too young to translate, 
 a vague, formless, clinging to the sense of beauty as if it 
 were endowed with a human soul. The tears rushed to 
 her eyes. 
 
 About an hour later Cassy came out with a sun hat, 
 and said : 
 
 11 Miss Dell, your aunt sends you permission to take a 
 walk." 
 
 Dell glanced curiously at the beautiful chip hat with its 
 wreath of flowers, finer than her Sunday hat at home. 
 Ah, how the homelikeness and motherliness of the Mur- 
 rays would always cling to her. 
 
 " I should like to go and see the morning-glories," she 
 said, putting on the hat. 
 
 They walked about the lawn, that seemed enclosed in a 
 park, and the park bounded by thickets of dense shrub- 
 bery like a wall. 
 
 " Where is the street?" she asked presently. 
 
 Cassy smiled. " We do not have streets here. We 
 are at least half a mile from the road. And Beaumanoir 
 is two miles distant." 
 
 " What is on that side ? " 
 
 "The estate goes on a mile to a crossroad. It is a 
 good deal wild land. Over beyond is a railroad station 
 and a litrle settlement."
 
 SOT QUITE A BARB ARIA W. 75 
 
 It seemed to Dell as if it might be the end of the world. 
 Siie felt so away from everything. 
 
 " Isn't it very lonely ? " she asked presently. "I like 
 people." 
 
 "The children are over here nearly every day. And 
 the Lepages and the Stanwoods come for long visits." 
 
 " I don't think they will like me," Dell said, after a 
 meditative silence. 
 
 " Why? " asked Cassy curiously, though she knew of 
 some forceful reasons. 
 
 "1 cannot quite explain," and Dell's brow was knit in 
 perplexity. " They do not want me here. Did you ever 
 feel something all through you, like a hurt nerve, when 
 some people come near you ? " 
 
 " You will get over the strangeness. And they are all 
 your cousins. Where did you live in New York?" 
 
 Dell told her, indeed grew quite descriptive of the home 
 and school life. 
 
 " I was up one winter two years ago with Mrs. Lepage 
 she was not very well and wanted some treatment. We 
 were at a hotel. I could have remained. A lady wanted 
 me very much for her daughter's maid." 
 
 " Are you Miss Sherburne's maid?" 
 
 " Well yes. I have been here ever since I was a little 
 girl. It seems like home." 
 
 " I should have stayed," returned Dell decisively. 
 
 Cassy smiled softly, guessing the connection. 
 
 " Did you ever see my own papa? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. I was about nine when he went away. I 
 used to play with and amuse the babies. Then Miss 
 Julia took me and taught me a great many things. The 
 major went to Alaska on some business for the govern- 
 ment, and I came back. Miss Stierburne is particular, 
 but she isn't a hard mistress." 
 
 " Hut about my own papa were they all very angry 
 at his marriage ? "
 
 76 SHEEBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "I think we had better not discuss that, Miss Dell. 
 They were all extravagantly fond of him. He had been 
 like an own child to Miss Sherburne, his mother died 
 when he was so young. He was handsome and charm- 
 ing, then he was the only son, and his grandfather had 
 made him the heir of Sherburne House." 
 
 " I wish he had not. Then I need not have come here." 
 
 " But surely ' 
 
 " I shall go away as soon as I am a woman. Eight 
 years, papa Murray said. But it is a long while," and 
 Dell sighed. 
 
 Cassy felt rather restricted in subjects of conversation. 
 Miss Sherburne had said : 
 
 " Do not allow her to discuss the Murrays or her past 
 life with you. I wish her to forget those Irish barbarians 
 as soon as possible. And we know nothing praiseworthy 
 about her mother." 
 
 Experience had taught her to be very careful before 
 "little pitchers." Indeed it was her discretion that 
 rendered her so valuable to Miss Sherburne, since there 
 was always so much coming and going. And it must be 
 admitted that she had imbibed the family feeling that this 
 child was out of the pale of really legitimate family in- 
 heritance, even if the law gave it to her. Yet she began 
 to almost pity Dell that she would be so far from rivalling 
 her cousins in good looks. 
 
 For Cassy understood the value of beauty. Even she 
 had much to be proud of. Tall, well-formed, supple, 
 not so dark but that the pink glowed in her cheeks, 
 glossy rippling black hair, straight, clearly cut features, 
 she held herself royally above many of her fellows in 
 the quarters. Then she was one of the few who had 
 been born on the Sherburne estates. Old great-grand- 
 father Sherburne had been wiser than many of his neigh- 
 bors, and in the early days of the slavery agitation had 
 sold most of his slaves to go further South, where they
 
 NOT QUITE A BARBARIAN. 77 
 
 were more secure ; hiring afterward large numbers, at 
 their owner's risks. 
 
 Yet now that Cassy came to inspect Dell closely, in 
 one of her natural moods, she seemed to give promise of 
 amendment. Her eyes were fine, her lashes of glitter- 
 ing bronze that made a curious dazzle. Her mouth was 
 not of the rosebud order, but the lips were finely formed, 
 and of the magnificent red that betokens perfect health. 
 When her complexion came to be cared for, her hands 
 properly treated, her figure kept within bounds, she 
 might not be so bad. And she certainly had a bright 
 vein of humor ; she was far from being as ignorant as 
 Miss Sherburne feared. 
 
 Miss Sherburne was not through with her multitudinous 
 cares when they returned. She was a very thorough 
 housekeeper and a most efficient manager, and would 
 not have brought other than southern training into dis- 
 credit. Then there was dinner, and the mistress felt the 
 absolute need of a siesta to enable her to go through 
 with the demands of the evening. 
 
 So Dell read and swung in the hammock until mid- 
 afternoon. Then Cassy brushed her hair again and at- 
 tired her in a delicate cambric. She took her seat on the 
 veranda with Miss Sherburne. 
 
 "I have been too busy to attend to you to-day," the 
 lady began, "and I have not considered any plans for 
 your education. The free schools at the North are my 
 utter abomination ; I suppose you know next to nothing." 
 
 Dell flushed and a fire lighted up the velvet eyes. 
 
 " I do know, a good deal," she answered vehemently, 
 " I would have been in the graduating class " 
 
 " I am not asking your opinion of your attainments," 
 was the severe reply. " It might have answered for the 
 position you were in, but your whole life has changed, 
 and you must be fitted for it." 
 
 Miss Sherburne looked very stately and impressive in
 
 78 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 her delicate black and white lawn, with fine thread lace 
 at neck and wrist. She had settled herself with a tiny 
 basket and took thereform a strip of antique lace that 
 was one of her diversions. 
 
 " You may read aloud to me," she said. 
 
 Dell had been esteemed an excellent reader at school 
 and was frequently selected for declamation. She had a 
 natural perception of emphasis, a clear voice, and fine 
 enunciation. 
 
 "There, there," interrupted the lady ; "not quite so 
 theatrical if you please." 
 
 Dell stopped suddenly and flushed to the edges of her 
 hair. 
 
 "That may do for the public school, but it sounds as 
 if you were haranguing a mob. It is enough to set one 
 wild ! What studies did you pursue ? " 
 
 Dell mentioned a goodly list. Miss Sherburne felt 
 suddenly out of her depth, and she could not afford to 
 blunder. 
 
 " You did not study languages or music? " 
 
 "We wrote music and sang by note. And we had 
 industrial drawing " 
 
 " Well, you will not need that," impressively. " And 
 you know nothing about the piano? " 
 
 "We did not have one at the Murrays " then Dell 
 paused, startled at her forgetfulness. 
 
 "You have two bad habits, insolence and disobedi- 
 ence." 
 
 Dell drew her lips together with an angry emphasis. 
 She could not forget her dearest friends, she would not 
 if a hundred Miss Sherburnes commanded it. 
 
 Ah, how the birds sang ! The bees droned, the soft 
 wind rustled through the branches, the insects were 
 chirping in their leafy coverts. Ah, if she could fly, or 
 skim about in the sleepy sunshine, or hide herself in 
 the grey-green nooks of fragrance.
 
 NOT QUITE A BARBARIAN. 79 
 
 " And you know nothing of needlework, I dare say ? " 
 in a dry tone. " When 1 was your age I could do any- 
 thing with my needle." 
 
 " I can sew on the machine and crochet " 
 
 Miss Sherburne sighed. Then the Beaumanoir car- 
 riage drove around with the three younger children and 
 their mamma. They all came to kiss Aunt Sherburne. 
 How could they ! Dell felt like screaming at the very 
 thought. They spoke to her with a certain hauteur, 
 which was after all lost upon Dell. 
 
 " Cassy, you may take charge of the children," said 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir. 
 
 "And we will play croquet," cried Frances "but 
 may be you do not know how ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, indeed," answered Dell eagerly. 
 
 Cecil fell to Dell in the choice of partners : that is, 
 Frances chose and Dell took what was left. Cecil was 
 seven, quite tall and very fair, in a sailor suit, and had 
 only recently discarded kilts and golden ringlets. A 
 curly crop still covered his head and reminded her of 
 Morna. Ned was rather consequential, in a most im- 
 maculate boyish toilette. He had dark eyes and quite 
 dark brown hair and was a little past ten. 
 
 Cassy found the box of balls and mallets, and the 
 ground was around at the southern end. 
 
 "How much do you know about croquet?" asked 
 Ned rather insolently. 
 
 " All there is to know," retorted Dell. 
 
 " Well look out for yourself, that's my warning." 
 
 But he soon found it was not needed. Her manner of 
 handling the mallet and her strokes established her skill 
 at once. 
 
 " Why, it will be no fun at all. You'll go straight 
 through," he cried rather vexed. 
 
 "You don't play quite fair," declared Fanny, cha- 
 grined at such an able adversary.
 
 80 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " What have I done out of rule? " Dell asked, stand- 
 ing up defiantly. 
 
 " Well you do not play quite as we do " evasively. 
 
 " Then tell me just how." 
 
 Dell's last stroke took her out, and Cecil was quite a 
 wise little player. The others dared her to a second 
 game. Ned was very watchful and Frances did her 
 best, but they were still on the losing side. 
 
 " Well, you are older, and you have played a good 
 deal, you ought to beat. But you just wait until Vi 
 plays you some day. You'll be beaten out of your 
 boots." 
 
 Dell laughed rather joyously. 
 
 "Tell you what. I'll run you a race. Down there 
 to the old sycamore." 
 
 " Done," said Dell. 
 
 Frances was the time-keeper. One, two, and off 
 started Ned. Three ! Dell closed her lips firmly. 
 He ran swiftly, but she came in first. 
 
 "And you did not start honest," she said breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 He laughed unpleasantly. " My, but you're an awful 
 tomboy ! " he said. 
 
 "And you've made a guy of yourself! You are 
 awfully red in the face," declared Frances with an air 
 that suggested Miss Sherburne. 
 
 Dell fanned herself vigorously with the skirt of her 
 dress. Ned sauntered around rather out of humor. 
 
 " Tell you what. I'll play you a game of checkers." 
 
 " I do not know how." 
 
 " Oh, stay and play croquet," pleaded Cecil. 
 
 "I will play with you," said Cassy. "And you 
 know you won the game last time we played." 
 
 Cecil was delighted. The others marched off. Ned 
 went in for the board, and Frances sauntered upstairs to 
 find the elders.
 
 NOT QUITE A BARBARIAN. 81 
 
 Dell soon mastered the main idea of the game, for she 
 was very quick. Then they began to play. Of course, 
 Ned had every advantage and played up to it. He 
 soon had her penned. 
 
 Dell bore the defeat pleasantly. The game interested 
 her and she really desired to learn. But there was a 
 sort of selfish triumph about Ned that stirred her to a 
 kind of contempt. She was so generous herself. He 
 did not mean his pupil to progress very rapidly, but she 
 watched his moves closely. 
 
 Mr. Beatimanoir came up the path with his wide- 
 brimmed panatna in his hand. He had a very fair look 
 at Dell, and there was something in her eagerness that 
 interested him. 
 
 "Not a bad face after all," he said to himself. "I 
 do wonder what her mother was like." Then as he 
 neared them he surveyed the players. 
 
 " Edward, my son," he said gravely, " I do not think 
 you are quite fair. Has your cousin played much ? " 
 
 " I am just learning," explained Dell, glancing up, 
 moved by the kindly tone. And she found a very 
 friendly expression in the face. 
 
 " Cousin ! " exclaimed Ned superciliously. 
 
 " Is she not your cousin, your uncle Edward's daugh- 
 ter? There, you have stopped her from playing ; now 
 let me take your place. My opinion is that you make a 
 very poor teacher." 
 
 Edward relinquished his place unwillingly. Dell's 
 heart beat with a sudden delight, and she glanced up 
 smilingly. He could not forgive her all at once for 
 standing in the place he coveted for his firstborn, but he 
 returned her look with a certain kindliness. 
 
 " Did you give her the first game, Ned? " 
 
 " I showed her all the moves," rather ungraciously. 
 
 " That is not quite enough. Now," to Dell, " I will 
 explain as we go along." And he did it very thor-
 
 82 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 oughly ; so well, indeed, that she went on trium- 
 phantly. 
 
 "Though I did not really win the game," admitted 
 Dell honestly. 
 
 " Of course you didn't ! It was a clear give away on 
 papa's part. Well, I beat her seven times." 
 
 "That is not stating it correctly. You won seven 
 games from an opponent who knew nothing about play- 
 ing. Not a very gallant exploit, Master Ned." 
 
 Edward bit his lip. 
 
 " Now I am going to show you some of the holes the 
 unwary fall into. Keep your eyes open." 
 
 He did this very amusingly. Then they -played an 
 earnest game. Dell was beaten, of course, but by a 
 very little. 
 
 "And there was one time I thought you would surely 
 pen me." He placed the men back on the board and 
 explained it to her. 
 
 " Oh, and I never saw it. I am very much obliged to 
 you for the instruction," she cried gratefully. 
 
 The ladies were coming out. 
 
 " Now a game with me," insisted Ned. 
 
 " I do not want to play any more, but just think it 
 over," she answered. 
 
 " Well, you are very mean, after all the trouble papa 
 took," the boy said crossly. 
 
 Lyndell rose and turned her glance haughtily upon him. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham came trotting up the avenue on 
 his pretty chestnut mare. Dell caught his smile. 
 Somehow she felt comparatively light-hearted, and 
 here was the face of an old friend in these desert 
 wastes. She ran down the steps and held out her 
 "hand as he dismounted. 
 
 " I am glad to see you so cheerful and so much at 
 home," he said, with a grave, pleasant smile. "I 
 hoped I should find you quite content."
 
 NOT QUITE A BARBARIAN. SJ 
 
 Dell would not mar his pleasure. Perhaps it might be 
 better than she had feared. 
 
 " Lyndell ! " exclaimed Miss Sherburne, summoning 
 her by a gesture as the two men were greeting each 
 other. It would have been difficult to disentangle the 
 mixed sensations that suddenly stirred in her soul, but 
 she gave it the term of propriety. 
 
 " I am ashamed of such forwardness," she said with 
 unnecessary sharpness. " You might have waited until 
 Mr. Whittingham fairly touched the ground before you 
 made such an indelicate rush at him." 
 
 Dell's face was scarlet. The glow of pleasure fadrd 
 into lowering clouds. She hated them all in the next 
 breath. 
 
 There was a pleasant confusion. Mrs. Beaumanoit 
 was very elegant and gracious. She was extremely fine- 
 looking, rather haughty. Mr. Beaumanoir was a large, 
 portly man, with a rather humorous face, a flowing 
 brown beard with silvery streaks, and a thin spot on the 
 top of his curly head. 
 
 In the midst of the talk supper was announced. 
 They all filed into the handsome old room, and Julius 
 seated them and began the serving. No one seemed 
 to notice Dell. The gentlemen were discussing some 
 county matters, the ladies spoke of several of their 
 distant neighbors, of some plans for summering. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Lepage and their younger children were 
 abroad ; Major and Mrs. Stanwood in Canada. Ned 
 and Frances squabbled a little until their mother had to 
 speak to them. 
 
 Afterward the gentlemen retired to the sitting-room. 
 Cecil begged Dell to swing him in the hammock. 
 
 "She is going to have a game of checkers with me," 
 declared Ned. 
 
 Some spirit of malevolence stirred Frances. " I'll 
 swing you," she said.
 
 84 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " I do not want to play," returned Dell. 
 
 " But you ought to give me one more chance. It is 
 very mean of you." 
 
 " I cannot play any more to-night," Dell said im- 
 patiently. 
 
 "Can't she, Aunt Sherburne?" Ned appealed as 
 that lady came to the window. "I've been showing her 
 half the afternoon, and now she won't play even one 
 game with me." 
 
 " If you must be disagreeable you can go up to your 
 room," said Miss Sherburne, with quiet decision. 
 
 Perhaps she did not mean to be taken quite so literally. 
 Dell rose, and with a quick sweep vanished in the hall. 
 She was very angry. It seemed to her that Ned was 
 unfair, ungenerous, mean, she should say if she was 
 back with Con Murray. Con would thrash such a muff! 
 
 Then she bowed her head in her hands and cried bit- 
 terly. Oh, for some clasp of fond arms, some kisses 
 from warm and loving lips. 
 
 When Miss Sherburne came up, after all matters were 
 settled that could be decided upon at present, she found 
 Dell soundly asleep. And she sighed as she thought of 
 the future.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK. 
 
 Miss SHERBURNE was too much engrossed with busi- 
 ness the next morning to feel like undertaking arguments 
 of any kind with Dell. She did not even speak of the 
 occurrence of the previous evening. She had promised 
 to be early at Beaumanoir and was to accompany the 
 two executors to the surrogate's office in the county town. 
 So she merely placed Dell in Cassy's charge. 
 
 Dell's spirits rose as if a wintry cloud had been lifted 
 from them. She swung in the hammock, she sat in 
 the sunshine and read. Then she espied the interior of 
 the office, the room where interviews with the work peo- 
 ple and overseers were held, contracts drawn and signed, 
 and business papers kept in the safe. 
 
 The table had some odds and ends of papers. There 
 was also pen and ink. A sudden thought flashed in 
 Dell's mind. It would be a good time to write her 
 letter. 
 
 She went directly in and found some loose sheets of 
 note paper and envelopes. She directed one to Miss 
 Tessy Murray, and then began. Oh, how many things 
 she had to say, some of them bitter enough, but the 
 principal object of her wrath was Miss Sherburne. 
 When she came to the love and longing for her old 
 friends, her eyes filled with tears and she laid her head 
 down on the table and cried. She was so wretched and 
 lonely. 
 
 However, she presently recovered and finished the 
 second sheet of paper, placed it in the envelope and 
 
 85
 
 86 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 sealed it. Then she searched for a stamp, and found 
 some in a box on the desk. Suddenly a thought that 
 none of these articles were really hers, startled her. 
 
 " But I can pay her," she said triumphantly. I will 
 not take anything of hers without compensation." 
 
 She ran upstairs and hunted through her little hoard ol 
 money. Three cents for a stamp, two for paper and en- 
 velope. She went to the office and laid the five-cent- 
 piece in the box that held the stamps. 
 
 Just now a misgiving occurred to Dell. Would Miss 
 Sherburne allow the letter to go without knowing its con- 
 tents? And she could not, must not see them. That 
 she would not be allowed to write at all did not at this 
 juncture occur to Dell. How would she manage to send 
 her letter? Was there any place nearer than Ardmore? 
 Surely she could not walk there by herself. Well, she 
 would watch and see who took the mail. How queer 
 these great country places were ! And oh, how lone- 
 some one would get! It seemed to Dell at that moment 
 as if she could fly to the ends of the world. 
 
 She went up to her own room again. What should 
 she do with her letter? There was her bureau with ;ill 
 its drawers in nicest order. What pretty clothes they 
 were, what fine handkerchiefs, what beautiful aprons, 
 stockings, and here in a compartment ribbons for her 
 hair. Her heart softened toward Miss Sherburne. 
 
 " But if I am going to be rich, of course the money is 
 mine. She doesn't really give me these things." 
 
 At last she slipped the letter in the Bible that Mamma 
 Murray had given her last Christmas, and suddenly 
 pressed it to her lips in a burst of emotion. 
 
 Miss Sherburne did not reach home until nearly three. 
 She had taken luncheon with the Beaumanoirs. Curi- 
 ously enough she had dissented from the plan they all 
 favored of sending Lyndell away to school. What her 
 objections really were she could but lamely formulate.
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK. 87 
 
 The Sherburne girls had governesses and there was one 
 at Beaumanoir, but Millicent had been away at school 
 for two years, and Violet was to go in the autumn. 
 
 "It is my duty to know something about the child's 
 principles and morals," she said decisively. " She has 
 run wild long enough." 
 
 " But I thought a boarding school soon tamed down 
 the most unruly. Then there are convents," suggested 
 Mr. Beaumanoir. 
 
 " I am not anxious to make a Romanist of her. I dare 
 say she had enough of that at the Murrays. I never in- 
 quired," and Miss Sherburne looked startled. 
 
 "Aunt Aurelia, I have an idea," and Mrs. Beau- 
 manoir glanced at the sorely troubled face, that did ap- 
 peal to her sympathy. " Let her be sent over here every 
 morning. The children's lessons are from nine to twelve 
 these warm days ; Miss Burtis will be a good judge of her 
 capabilities, and we can learn how amenable she is to rules 
 and influences." 
 
 "Oh, how extremely generous of you, Laura, knowing 
 utterly nothing about her! " and the tears rushed to Miss 
 Sherburne's eyes. 
 
 " I will venture to predict that she will prove a quick 
 scholar," said Mr. Beaumanoir. 
 
 " The children thought her hot-tempered " 
 
 " She is disrespectful, insolent, and she has no proper 
 regard for her position. Her tastes seem low and vulgar. 
 Of course one could hardly expect anything else ; " and 
 Miss Sherburne sighed. " But one might reasonably 
 look for some evidence of good birth. She has it on one 
 side, if she really be Edward's child." 
 
 " Mr. Whittingham thinks there can be no doubt. Of 
 course, Aunt Aurelia, it is a bitter disappointment, but 
 the child cannot help being in her present sphere, and 
 we must not be unjust to her," said Mr. Beaumanoir. 
 
 Miss Sherburne came home quite relieved. She an-
 
 88 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 nounced the arrangement to Dell, and the remainder of 
 the afternoon was busy with accounts and letters. 
 
 Julius brought the light wagon around the next morn- 
 ing. Dell had been duly informed of the great favor, 
 and given instructions as to her behavior. She had put 
 her precious letter in her pocket, and when she saw 
 Julius with the mail-bag in his hand, her heart gave a 
 great bound. She could hardly wish Miss Sherburne 
 good-morning with proper decorum. 
 
 "So you go to the post office?" she said, after they 
 were seated. " Where is it ? " 
 
 "At Ardmore, Missy. Allus go night and mornin', 
 'less Cato hab to drive." 
 
 "Then you may take my letter, too. I did not know 
 you will be very careful not to forget it?" and she 
 glanced up anxiously. 
 
 "Yes, Missy. Won't forgit, no how. Missus bring a 
 hornet's nest 'bout my ears if I dun go and forgit any- 
 thing. Julius mighty kerftil, I kin fell you," ar.d he 
 snapped his eyes humorously. 
 
 She dropped her precious missive into his outstretched 
 palm with a sigh of relief. 
 
 " Hab to han' dat ar in sep'rate. Missy know next 
 time. Missus allus lock de bag." 
 
 Dell nodded. 
 
 " How you like it here, Missy ? We all tought Mas'r 
 Leonard come to Sherbon' House. Ef you hadn't bin 
 foun', or bin dead, he be de next mas'r shore "nuff." 
 
 " I wish I had not been found," cried Dell sharply. 
 " No one wanted me. And I was so happy and content. 
 Everybody loved me." 
 
 Julius stared hard, and the whites of his eyes glistened 
 like glass. 
 
 " Why, Missy! " in the sheerest surprise. 
 
 " I wish 1 could give it to him and go back to my own 
 dear home."
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK, H9 
 
 " Mas'r Leonard he be mighty glad," and Julius 
 chuckled. 
 
 If the heritage was really hers, why should they be 
 so grudging ! Not one word of real welcome had been 
 given her. By sharp contrast, she remembered the 
 Murray s' love and kindness. How generous for them 
 to take in her sick mother, to give her shelter when she 
 was no kin. She had never seen any selfishness or nar- 
 rowness with them. Con had a large nature ; Densie, a 
 gentle one. They were always trying to make some one 
 happy. In this atmosphere of loving, hearty interest, 
 Dell's soul had grown large and true, and reasoned with 
 a simple directness. 
 
 Julius handed her out with great politeness. At a first 
 glance Beaumanoir looked much like Sherburne House, 
 except that it was not so imposing, and the lawn dis- 
 played a greater diversity of bloom. Violet stood on 
 the wide veranda. 
 
 " Oh, good-morning," she said, in a soft, lady-like 
 voice. " Let me take you to mamma." 
 
 Dell followed. The house had a more modern aspect, 
 but it was chiefly in the furnishing. Mrs. Beaumanoir 
 greeted Dell with careless courtesy. 
 
 "Aunt Sherburne explained to you, I suppose, that 
 you were to take lessons with the children until some 
 permanent arrangements could be made. Lay aside 
 your hat. I hope you will get on well together." 
 
 She rose and led her through a long hall to the school- 
 room, where sat the three younger children. Cecil was 
 printing letters on a slate. 
 
 "This is the child we were talking of, Miss Burtis, 
 Miss Lyndell Sherburne, my dear, dead brother's daugh- 
 ter. You will see what she is capable of in a little ex- 
 amination, though, I dare say, she is not up to the aver- 
 age. But it will be such a relief to Aunt Sherburne to 
 have her where she will get a little civilized."
 
 90 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Dell flushed scarlet. Why did they all think her such 
 a barbarian ? 
 
 Miss Burtis was not young and had a rather thin, 
 austere face, but the tones of her voice were kindly. 
 "We must see what you can do," she began. "We 
 Southerners have not a very high opinion of public 
 schools. It is impossible to train so many children to- 
 gether and give them anything beyond the merest super- 
 ficial smattering. The bright children show for the whole 
 class, and the slow ones make small progress." 
 
 There was a sense of unfairness in setting her clown 
 as dull, when they knew nothing about her. Dell's 
 pulses throbbed resentfully. 
 
 Miss Burtis began to question her at the very bottom 
 of the ladder. Ned was listening with a sort of half-ma- 
 licious smile. The injudicious talk about Dell had 
 warped and colored the children's opinions. 
 
 " I have gone far beyond that, Miss Burtis," Dell ex- 
 plained with a pardonable triumph in her tone. " I was 
 passing my examinations for the graduating class." 
 
 The governess had fancied the child extremely igno- 
 rant and backward. But she found that in ordinary 
 English branches she was farther advanced than Miss 
 Fanny ; Latin, French, and music were unexplored re- 
 gions to her. 
 
 " We had better begin with Latin at once," and she 
 found her a -book, making a few explanations about ac- 
 cents and the division of syllables. Dell thought it ex- 
 tremely ridiculous, and could not help going over in her 
 mind the queer "hog latin," the boys in Murray's Row 
 used when talking their secrets. 
 
 She possessed a quick and retentive memory, and 
 though her new friends might abhor public schools, they 
 had given Dell an excellent training. So it was not long 
 before she glanced up with a half smile of assenting sat- 
 isfaction.
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK. 91 
 
 "You surely cannot have learned it?" Miss Burtis 
 asked in vague surprise. 
 
 " Yes. It is not a very long lesson ; " cheerfully. 
 
 She repeated it with the utmost exactness. Frances 
 and Ned stared. Neither were particularly bright 
 scholars ; though Frances was fond of the lighter accom- 
 plishments. 
 
 Just then Violet entered. She was not confined to the 
 schoolroom for the restlessness of the younger children 
 annoyed her. 
 
 Miss Burtis felt that her new scholar had really fine 
 abilities, and was much farther along in the paths of 
 knowledge than her relatives imagined. She examined 
 her in one or two studies in which she was equal to Violet, 
 although she did not think it wisdom to propose their re- 
 citing together just yet. 
 
 Cassy drove over for her in the phaeton. She was to 
 take home her Latin book, and one in philosophy, and to 
 ask Miss Sherburne about music lessons. 
 
 After dinner she went at her task, taking a corner of 
 the veranda. Miss Sherburne was upstairs. She was- 
 tired of keeping so still and began a little ramble down 
 the northern end of the house. Another part seemed 
 joined to it, then a large kitchen, the passageway being 
 a vine-covered trellis. Then a wide, luxuriant garden 
 stretching out, meeting a vineyard and an orchard. As 
 she strayed around quite a distance to the south, she saw 
 what looked like a little hamlet. 
 
 Some sounds caught her ear. Making another turn 
 she came across a rather curious enclosure, shut off 
 from the house by a thicket of spruce and pine. The 
 grass was worn off in patches. There were some 
 benches of the rudest sort standing around ; a host of 
 little darkies tumbling about, wrestling, standing on their 
 heads, and a group dancing to the music of a jew's-harp, 
 with an accompaniment of bones. Some women in gay
 
 2 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 turbans were sitting around sewing, or nursing babies. 
 Dell recalled a gaudily-colored chromo wonderfully like 
 this, only tliere was no old fiddler here. 
 
 She looked on with curious delight, a child's eager in- 
 terest in humanity. 
 
 Two little darkies came rolling to her very feet. 
 " Hi ! " cried one, showing his teeth from ear to ear. 
 " Who am dat? Mammy, jes 1 come here ! " 
 
 All eyes were turned to Lyndell. She colored and 
 was fain to retreat. 
 
 " It's young Missy, isn't it? " asked a pleasant faced 
 woman with her sewing, a child's dress, in her hand. 
 " We's bin waiting to have a look at you, honey, don' 
 go 'way. Here's a cheer." 
 
 " I was taking a walk I " 
 
 " You Andrew Johnson ! you jus' done clar out, starin' 
 at Missy ! " as the children began to crowd up around 
 her. " Here you James Henry ! " and the woman dealt 
 some blows right and left that sent the youngsters 
 sprawling on the ground. 
 
 "Oh don't!" pleaded Dell as they set up a terrific 
 howl, but the next instant they went chasing each other 
 over the wide space. 
 
 A tall, bent old woman came pressing through the 
 throng. 
 
 "it's Missy shore 'nuff. Mar's Edward's little gal 
 who oughter been borned here, 'stead o' way off in 
 furrin parts. We never knowed for sartin honey 
 whether you's dead or libe, or comin' here or not. 
 Eberybody 'spected Mas'r Leonard be next on de car- 
 pet, anyhow arter old Miss done gone. But it's all right 
 I 'spect. We don' know much 'bout law 'n all dat. 
 An' den we hear Mar's Edward's little gal got to cum 
 an' no one kin put her out. An' my darter Zilla she 
 were his mammy, and she lubbed him jes' like her own 
 babies. 'Twas way back in times you don' know miffin
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK, 93 
 
 'bout. An' I was libbin in de great house yere, cookin' 
 and bakin'. Sich times nebber come back no mo': and 
 Mas'r Edward he jes' grow right up, straight an' tall an' 
 handsome, an' he granpa believe the berry sun rise in 
 dat ar boy. An' all de ladies gittin' marr'd an' comin' 
 home wid der chillen an' sech times ! An' Mar's Edward 
 he go off to college an' come home harnsomer'n ebber, an' 
 den dat furrin women done stole him 'way an' he die an' 
 eberybody go mos' crazy." 
 
 The old woman paused to draw her breath. 
 
 " That was my own mamma," cried Dell indignantly^ 
 "And she did not steal him away." 
 
 " Oh, yes, honey." The old woman nodded her head 
 with a weird sort of emphasis. "She done stole him 
 'way clar across de big sea. An' he git clar bewitched. 
 No one eber see him again until he dead, an' den she 
 can't keep him no mo', fer de spell of de bewitchment 
 is jes' bruk. How you git across de big sea ? " 
 
 " I came with my mamma. And she loved my 
 papa dearly. She was always crying for him. And 
 when she died " Dell's lip quivered and her voice broke. 
 
 " Oh, honey dear, don't cry," pleaded the old woman 
 rocking herself to and fro. " De big law men gib it to 
 you, an* you ain't to blame " 
 
 " Maum Leah," spoke up a comely youngish woman 
 whose soft voice attracted Dell instantly, and who smiled 
 over the baby she held in her arms as her expressive 
 eyes caught those of the child. "Maum Leah, she 
 goin' to be our young Missis and we are all ready to 
 love her. Little Missy is all right for her grandfather 
 settled it, and it never could be Mar's Leonard's while 
 she's alive." 
 
 " I wish it was his," cried Dell passionately. " I 
 would a thousand times rather go back to the dear 
 friends who loved me, a'nd who cared for my own 
 mamma."
 
 94 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " Missy," said the woman with a caressing sound in 
 her voice, " Missy you wait a little wile. Yous'e hon,e- 
 sick an' strange now. But yous'e goin' to grow up here 
 a nice young lady, and when you get trained and learned 
 you'll be able to do ever so much, An' then you'll be 
 glad of this gran' old home, an' you'll be happy as the 
 day is long. An' you mustn't mind what anybody say. 
 Mammy is always mammy to chillens, no matter what 
 they be to other folks. An* all the bewitchment is just 
 love an' nothing else, and Mar's Edward just go after 
 the girl he love because he want her." 
 
 "Shore Missy I ain't gon ter gredge yo good luck," 
 began Maum Leah again. " Some folks dough mity 
 dis'pinted. An' you come 'cross de big sea miracle 
 you wasn't drownded. De Lawd he tuk care ob you. 
 An' if he done tuk care ob you, you mus' be some ob 
 his sheep. An' if he watch ober you an' bring you here, 
 mus' be right somehow." The old woman stopped with 
 <i curiously perplexed expression. 
 
 "Of course it's right, Maum Leah," said Lizzy, "and 
 we're all going to make her feel welcome. And some 
 day she'll be glad she came, and she'll love the old 
 place ' ' 
 
 " I never can love it," declared Dell vehemently. 
 
 " O yes, Missy. I was born an' raised over yonder, 
 an' sold South before de war. An' I know 'bout de 
 ache and de homesickness, an" de longin' when your 
 heart seem to come out'n your body. An' when we 
 was all free I come right along back, an' Sherbon' 
 House de best place I ebber see yet. An' Missy '11 
 think so one of dese days." 
 
 The baby had been laughing to Dell and now she 
 smiled back, holding up her finger for him to grasp at. 
 Some of the little darkies stole up shyly again. One 
 brought her a handful of flowers ; another offered her a 
 luscious pear. Their amusing idioms, their quaint sharp
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK. 95 
 
 comments to each other, the way they rolled up the 
 whites of their eyes and showed their glistening white 
 teeth, made her smile. Lizzie mounted guard that they 
 should not prove obtrusive. 
 
 " You like chillen ? " she said. 
 
 " O, I have been with them so much since I came 
 to America. And where I lived they always had a 
 baby." 
 
 " Honey, you was only a little chick when yer pa died," 
 put in Maum Leah. " An' you can't 'member 'bout him. 
 He was han'some honey, han'some! An' you don' look 
 like him," shaking her head sadly. 
 
 Dell flushed, partly with anger, partly with a desperate 
 sense that all Sherburne House to the very servants were 
 minded to feel aggrieved by her coming. It was very 
 hard. 
 
 Then her glance was caught by two little darkies turn- 
 ing summersaults. They looked so funny as their woolly 
 heads followed their bare feet with only a very small 
 space between. 
 
 " Shall we run a race, Missy ? " asked one. " I kin beat 
 Hec all to rags ! " 
 
 No you can't nuther ! " cried Hec indignantly, hitch- 
 ing up his trousers by one suspender. 
 
 "Chillen, chillen," said Lizzy in her soft protesting 
 voice. 
 
 " O yes," said Dell. " Run a race. I'd like to my- 
 self." 
 
 They stood on a line and swung their hands. At a 
 word from Dell they went skimming over the ground,, 
 trodden hard and even as a floor. At first Pete seemed 
 to keep the advantage, but suddenly Hector flew along 
 and reached the goal. 
 
 " That wasn't fair! " shouted Pete, and seizing his op- 
 ponent began to pummel him. They rolled over and 
 over in the sparse grass.
 
 flfi SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "Tliey'se always picking at each other," said Lizzy, 
 who did not seem to take the scrimmage amiss. " Heck) -'s 
 my boy." 
 
 " It was you, Pete, who were unfair," said Dell as they 
 righted themselves and glanced back rather sheepishly. 
 *' When you lose a race fairly you ought to be honor- 
 able." 
 
 " But I kin beat him nex' time," confidently. 
 
 " H'yar you Pete!" exclaimed his mother, catching 
 him up and cuffing him vigorously. " 1'se 'shamed of 
 you, before de young Missis. Now you jest toe de mark 
 or it'll be vvus for you." 
 
 But Pete did not seem afraid of imaginary marks or the 
 cuffing. The next instant he was off skylarking. 
 
 "Do you all live here?" inquired Dell. "Of course 
 I know you are not slaves." 
 
 " A good many of us live roun' here," in her soft flow- 
 ing tones that sounded to Dell like the purling of a stream. 
 "Maum Leah and all the house slaves were freed, but 
 they didn't want to look out no new home. We had a 
 good master and missis." 
 
 "And you like Miss Sherburne ? " Dell said it in- 
 voluntarily, and with extreme astonishment. 
 
 " Old Miss mighty straight, but she never say one thing 
 an' do 'nother. She don' starve no one, an' she give 
 fair wages. An' when she's served well she know it. If 
 she ain't all honey to start, you don' get more an' more 
 bitter as you go on. Yes, she's a good Missis. An' it'll 
 all come right with you bimeby. The Lord, he don' give 
 all the grace an' good things right off. You wait an' 
 wait, an' lear^ patience." 
 
 " Is that the quarters?" asked Dell, glancing at the 
 cluster of whitewashed cottages. 
 
 "Yes. Then over yender is the 'bacca plantation. 
 We don't raise much cotton now. And a sight of truck 
 gardenin'. We gets things off early in the season. Then
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK. 9T 
 
 the can factories takes heaps of things. Mis' Sherbon', 
 she long-headed. She don' set down an' cry when de 
 war break up everything, but just go on." 
 
 "Couldn't I go over the quarters ?" and Dell started 
 eagerly. Somehow she could not consistently listen to- 
 Miss Sherburne's praises. 
 
 " If Missis is willin'," said Lizzy, glancing at her 
 questioningly. "We all like to know young Missy an' 
 make her welcome everywhere." 
 
 Dell colored with a sudden consciousness. There was 
 a great confusion as yet on the subject of her own rights. 
 Then she said resentfully, " But if Sherburne House is 
 
 "Yes Missy. But ole Missis some kind of thing to 
 you I can't 'member just now, only she oversee you. 
 And ole Missis can't bear to have nobody take the rule 
 out'n her hands. I can't make it all straight to you 
 Missy, only maybe she want to bring you some day an* 
 tell us about our new little Missy " 
 
 " Yes," she answered, to this simple indirect appeal to- 
 her honor. " I was only rambling round the house. 
 What a great place it is! And I must go back," she 
 added, reluctantly. 
 
 Maum Leah and two or three other women were in an 
 eager discussion about Lyndell's mother. Lizzy did not 
 consider it wise to have the child overhear it. For 
 opinion had run very high in bygone years to the detri- 
 ment of Mrs. Edward Sherburne, and recent events had 
 revived the old traditions. Miss Sherburne's disappoint- 
 ment was well known. 
 
 Lizzy turned and walked with her. 
 
 " Missy, we all hope you'll be happy," she said wit I* 
 a sweet gravity that touched Dell. "Some of us wait 
 a long wile for things to come round, but the good 
 Lord he don' never quite forget. It's such a big world. 
 Missy, and everybody can't come to the first table an'
 
 98 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 get served right away. So we try to wait patient "til our 
 turn." 
 
 "Oh, 1 like you!" Dell cried suddenly, catching 
 Lizzy's hand. " I wish " 
 
 " Missy must pray for the things she want." 
 
 They stood at the intervening spruces. The servants 
 were not allowed beyond except on special business. So 
 they said good-bye. 
 
 Cassy was sitting on the side porch, sewing. 
 
 "Oh," she exclaimed, relieved. "I was thinking I 
 must start and hunt you up." 
 
 " I have been walking around the house. What a great 
 place it is! And there was a man once, Cassy, who 
 wrote a book from just walking around his room. Our 
 teacher told us." 
 
 Some guests were driving away. Miss Sherburne came 
 out to them. 
 
 "Oh, here you are with Cassy," she exclaimed in a 
 relieved tone. " Have you studied your lessons? " 
 
 " I had only the Latin. Yes, I know it." Then she 
 colored. She would have announced so frankly to 
 Mamma Murray where she had been, but something 
 seemed to hold her back. And now she knew by a sud- 
 den intuition that Miss Sherburne would sharply disap- 
 prove of it. But she had not forbidden her, and what 
 was the great wrong in it ? 
 
 " Come and repeat your lesson to me," said the 
 lady. 
 
 Dell followed. 
 
 There was no word of praise. " You must begin 
 French at once," she announced, peremptorily. " And 
 music. Though I doubt if you will make much of a 
 player," and she looked at the sun-browned hands. 
 They were not small, certainly, rather fat, and the nails 
 liad not been nicely kept. 
 
 "What ungraceful hands, and stubby fingers!" she
 
 STANDING UP TO THE MARK. 99 
 
 cried in disgust. " I can't see a bit of Sherburne about 
 you. You must be altogether like your mother." 
 
 " But my own mamma had long, slim, white hands," 
 said Dell with tears in her eyes, surveying the dimpled 
 knuckles and joints. " And she was tall and very 
 fair." 
 
 " Well, you will never be tall. One can tell that 
 from your style. You will be short and stout, unless 
 you are dieted and trained, and it seems a hopeless un- 
 dertaking anyhow." 
 
 Miss Sherburne sighed.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 
 
 THE Beaumahoir carriage came round the 'drive. 
 To-day It was Violet and Cecil with their mother. Cecil 
 pleaded for croquet, and Dell was .glad to go with him 
 to escape the sharp glances that seemed so unfriendly. 
 She could amuse children delightfully, and Cecil was 
 taken captive with her merry ways, her good-humored 
 readiness. 
 
 Miss Burtis' verdict had been much more favorable 
 than any one expected. Mrs. Beaumanoir was quite 
 disposed to look at some of the possibilities, and accept 
 philosophically what must be endured. 
 
 " Since we cannot make her pretty and stylish, I am 
 thankful she has the capability of receiving a good 
 education. Of course we cannot quite tell. They 
 cram children dreadfully in the northern public schools, 
 and train them so by rote. Miss Burtis is willing 
 to give her music lessons, but I was thinking, aunt; 
 that it would be better to begin with Mr. Sterret, 
 as Miss Burtis will go away presently." 
 
 "And that must be arranged for," cried the poor 
 lady. " I can't have her running wild all summer." 
 
 " You had better decide in favor of a school, I 
 think." 
 
 " That could not provide for her until autumn. And 
 it would take her interest entirely away. I want 
 her to learn to care for her home, to respect it, to have 
 some veneration for it. It is not like any ordinary 
 home. I do not believe she ever can be made to ap- 
 100
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 101 
 
 preciate her father's family or her good birth on the 
 one side, but it seems my duty to try and instill this 
 into her." 
 
 "Unless you find her utterly unmanageable. There 
 is a sort of obstinacy in her face that I fear. Still we 
 may find some one to take charge of her in vacation. 
 I will ask Miss Burtis. She had friends in 'several 
 northern cities." 
 
 While the ladies planned and bewailed, Dell quite 
 won Cecil's heart. Of course Cassy played duenna. 
 The strange relative was too little known to be trusted 
 with any young member of the family. When they 
 were tired they came and sat on the steps of the ve- 
 randa. Violet had opened the parlor windows, and was 
 playing on the piano. She had an exquisite touch and 
 music was a passion with her. 
 
 Dell listened carelessly at first, but now and then a 
 strain like one of Mamma Murray's songs roused her. 
 It was indeed part of an opera with a song that had 
 been a great favorite twenty years before. Dell's 
 heart began to beat tumultuously, A passionate long- 
 ing rose in her soul to be folded again in the dear 
 arms. She hardly remembered the last quivering notes 
 of the melody, or realized that it had ceased. 
 
 Violet came to the window, stepped out, but Dell 
 did not stir. She leaned slightly against the column 
 with a kind of relaxed softness in her shoulders and 
 the curve of her neck. The wind had blown the 
 short ends of her hair about her forehead, giving it a 
 misty look, her mouth had an unknown sweetness, and 
 her eyes, fixed on some far object, yet not seeing it, 
 were filmed over with tears that quivered but did not fall. 
 
 " She is not so very plain," Violet thought. Then 
 with an effort she steeled her heart against her. She 
 had spoiled all Leonard's future. Sherburne House 
 could never be the lovely old home they had always
 
 102 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 counted on, with this strange girl growing up in it. 
 And surely she could not have the affection, the inter- 
 est, the pride of family that had been borne and bred 
 in them until it had become a second nature. A girl 
 who would be just as happy in returning to a hovel ! 
 for Violet somehow entertained the idea that emigrants 
 must perforce keep to their own station in life when 
 they came to America. She had listened to the 
 description of the crowd in the Murrays' yard and 
 Dell dancing before them, and it woke a feeling of 
 disgust. 
 
 The Beaumanoirs did not remain to supper. Dell 
 thought the evening dreadfully long. She sat on the 
 steps in the soft light and lived over again the most 
 delightful of the olden hours. She came out of her 
 reverie the instant she glanced up and' caught Miss 
 Sherburne's cold, disapproving eyes, that had changed 
 all of life for her. 
 
 If Miss Sherburne could have brought herself to a 
 familiar conference with her new charge and explained 
 her own wishes in the matter, appealing kindly to Dell 
 to help her carry them out, the child would have taken 
 her true place at once. As it was, she felt like a bird 
 suddenly caught and caged, taken to an unknown 
 sphere. No one had even properly introduced her to 
 it. Mr. Murray had made the only explanation, and 
 she puzzled her brain wondering how all this large 
 estate could be hers and yet she have no real right to 
 anything. 
 
 Julius took her to school the next morning. Her 
 Latin was a success. Then Miss Burtis started her at 
 French. Alas, poor Dell ! Something was the matter 
 with her tongue. Ned tittered a little and Frances 
 glanced at her with a sort of insolent pity. Dell 
 colored, became confused, and not another word would 
 she utter.
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 103 
 
 "Well," said Miss Burtis kindly, "you may wait a 
 while. The pronunciation is difficult at first and the ac- 
 cent very trying to a new beginner." 
 
 F ranees rattled off hers in triumph. When they had 
 all been dismissed, Miss Burtis took Dell kindly in hand 
 and made some simple explanations. 
 
 " I shall never learn it," said Dell decisively. " I hate 
 the sound of it. And I simply can 7. What is the use. 
 1 shall never go to France." 
 
 " My dear child, you are almost sure to go to Paris 
 some time in your life. Then it is a really elegant ac- 
 complishment. There is a great deal in French literature 
 that may be studied to an advantage. But hereafter we 
 will have it by ourselves. You do so well in Latin that I 
 am quite sure the other will come easily by and by." 
 
 Dell sighed in doleful indifference. 
 
 As she was driving home with Cassy, she said sud- 
 denly : 
 
 " Will you not let me get out and walk? I am so tired 
 of sitting. I want to run and jump. I will promise to 
 keep up with you." 
 
 " Miss Dell ! " Cassy looked horrified. It had been 
 very distinctly impressed upon Cassy's mind that she 
 must do something toward training this young savage ; 
 that all wildness must be repressed. 
 
 Well why not? Haven't I any rights because I 
 have been brought here against my will ? Can't I stir a 
 step, or take a walk, or do anything as I like ? " 
 
 "You are to. obey Miss Sherburne. And Miss Dell, 
 you were around to the quarters yesterday, alone. 1 am 
 quite sure she will be vexed when she hears it." 
 
 " If Sherburne House is mine, I have a right to go 
 about it," returned Dell with sharp independence. 
 
 " But it is not yours yet. You must wait until you 
 are of age. And you must do as your guardians 
 wish."
 
 104 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "My guardians ? " 
 
 " Yes, and Miss Shefburne is one of them. Mr. 
 Whittingham and Mr. Beaumanoir take care of the 
 money and do the business, and Miss Sherburne will 
 look after your education. And she wants you to be a 
 lady." 
 
 Dell's breath came hard and her face flushed. 
 
 "Well," she said passionately, " I hope I shall never 
 be such a lady ! I wouldn't be like her for all the 
 world ! I would a hundred times rather be like Mamma 
 Murray. And if I am to have nothing at all, and no 
 liberty, why, then, I am a prisoner! " 
 
 Gassy made no reply. Dell winked hard to keep the 
 tears out of her eyes. To Cassy there was a settled and 
 unalterable manner of being a lady. The Beaumanoir 
 children might do selfish and disagreeable things, but 
 they were graceful, well-mannered, trained in certain 
 society ways, and these were right. Cassy had great re- 
 spect for good birth, and Dell's low proclivities had been 
 so largely and freely discussed, that she looked upon 
 them with dismay, although she felt a curious pity for 
 the child. 
 
 What a horrid afternoon it was ! Dell was unfortu- 
 nate at the table. She dropped her fork and dodged 
 quickly to pick it up, coming in view with a flushed face. 
 This was pointed out as a blunder. She was confused, 
 and presently tipped over her glass of water. 
 
 "How clumsy you are! " exclaimed Miss Sherburne 
 sadly annoyed. " You will leave the tabje." 
 
 Dell flounced out of the room. She was still hungry 
 and that made her cross. 
 
 After the Latin, Miss Sherburne bade her come out on 
 the veranda. 
 
 " Do you know how to sew ? " she inquired. 
 
 " I can run the machine," answered Dell quickly. 
 
 " What a vulgar manner of announcing it as if you
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 105 
 
 liad been brought up a common seamstress ! And hand- 
 sewing looks so much more refined. Of course, you 
 know nothing about embroidering, or lace-work, and I 
 did yards of it before I was as old as you. Here is 
 some ruffling you may hem." 
 
 Poor Dell. She pricked her finger, the thread knotted, 
 her hands perspired, the needle creaked and then broke. 
 The sewing was soiled and she was sent to wash her 
 hands. The offensive work was cut off and she was 
 started again. All the long warm afternoon she toiled 
 over the wretched sewing, only to emulate Penelope's 
 web in the end. 
 
 " You will have to sew every afternoon until you can 
 do it neatly," was the sharp comment. 
 
 Dell had a wild impulse to spring up and defy her. 
 The birds were flitting from tree to tree, or making a 
 swift dart across the sky. Oh, if she had been a bird ! 
 
 A carriage drove up and two ladies with a fine-look- 
 ing elderly gentleman alighted. 
 
 " You may take your sewing and go around on the side 
 veranda," said Miss Sherburne. 
 
 Dell flitted through the hall. She had no curiosity 
 concerning the guests. But she sat on the step, idly, for 
 many minutes. A squirrel ran across the walk and 
 seemed to wink at her out of his bright eyes. Then the 
 ungovernable desire overcame her. She ran down the 
 path. Ah, how delightful it was in the sweet, inspiriting 
 air! How good to feel one's pulses stir and thrill. On 
 she went like a deer, over the short grass, the paths, any- 
 where. She was free for a moment. If she had come 
 back all would have been well. But she threw herself 
 on the grass under a tree and listened to the drowsy 
 music of the summer day. She was almost asleep when 
 a voice roused her. 
 
 " Lyndell ! Lyndell Sherburne, get up this moment. 
 You rude, ill-behaved girl ! Had you no better sense
 
 106 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 than to go racing around like a mad creature ? One 
 would surely think you had never been in civilized life. 
 never seen any decent people. Go back to the house 
 and up to your room at once. I am ashamed of yen:." 
 
 Dell walked stiffly. " She can't take my splendid run 
 away from me," the child thought exultantly. She \\t i 
 to her room and took up the hateful sewing, feeling I'D;.;. 
 she could tear it to bits. And there she remained. Her 
 supper was brought up by Cassy. Before she went \<> 
 bed she had to listen to a lecture on her rude and un- 
 couth behavior. And though she looked sullen and in- 
 different while she was listening, she cried herself to 
 sleep afterward. 
 
 On Saturday Miss Burtis came over with the children. 
 Miss Sherburne listened with most contradictory emotions 
 to the account the governess gave of her new pupil. She 
 would not have wished her dull and ignorant, and yet 
 she hated to think she had made progress under any 
 auspices save those of Sherburne House. 
 
 The natural instinct of the children for fun overcame 
 the secret antagonism between them. They ran some 
 races, then Ned dared Lyndell to climb a tree, which she- 
 did without hesitation. 
 
 " O, we must go down and see Aunt Chloe," he cried 
 presently. " Come on. The little pickaninnies are so 
 funny. And Aunt Chloe always has something good to 
 eat." 
 
 Lyndell followed. If they could go to the quarters 
 why not she? Through the pine plantation they dashed, 
 coming out in the midst of the cottages. There was a 
 shout of welcome as the little darkies espied Massa 
 Ned. 
 
 Massa Ned put them through sundry evolutions, 
 whistled that they might dance a breakdown. Dell 
 noticed a fat woman in a blue petticoat and faded short 
 gown standing in a doorway which she filled, her hands
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 107 
 
 on her hips and laughing until she shook. It was such 
 an odd place a one-story cabin with a peaked roof. At 
 either end stood a hogshead to catch the rain drips. Tise 
 door was in the middle with a window on each side. 
 
 " There's Aunt Chloe." Ned ran over. 
 
 " Bres' de Lawd if yer ain't Mass' Ned an' Missy. 
 Come in chillen. Aun' Chloe baked a nice cake an' no' 
 you's must hab a chunk. An" dat ar gal she de one 
 dat cum frum dat wicked city wat de passon sed wos 
 like Sodom 'n Gomorrer. Gib tanks chile dat you 
 'scaped alibe. An' you don' look no more like Missy 
 dere 'n a posy like a blackberry vine. No one 'd 
 b'lebe you 'n Missy cousins." 
 
 " Cousins! " ejaculated Ned indignantly. For though 
 there had been much talk of Uncle Edward they had 
 never given the child a virtual relationship. " Cousins ! " 
 as if the idea was distasteful. 
 
 Aunt Chloe's fat sides shook, as she gave a loud 
 guffaw. " Wher' yer reck'nin' Massa Ned? Ain't no 
 cousins an' yer mudder 'n her fadder own brudder 'n 
 sister. Sho now ! An' if she hadn't been, who'd done 
 gone scourin' de kentry roun' jes' as dey used wen slaves 
 run away to fin' her! 'Twould a made a mity sight oh 
 dif 'runce to some of you uns. But good Ian' ! Ycr 
 ilon' favor de Sherbons any more'n if yer didn't b'lon;^ 
 10 "em." 
 
 Dell flushed resentfully; Edward's look had stung 
 her. But surely she did not want them for cousins any 
 more than they wanted her. 
 
 " Now you jes' cum in an' hev yer cookies. Dey got 
 sugar on de top an' nutmeg. I knows whose got a sweet 
 toof. An' sum fer new Missy?" glancing at Dell. 
 " You like cookies? " 
 
 " I don't want any." Dell turned away and at that 
 moment spied Lizzy, hastening at once to her. 
 
 " O, Miss Lyndell ! I saw you here with your cousins.
 
 108 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Maum Chloe always gives them some sweets. Don' 
 you " 
 
 She made a rush at Lizzy and began to sob vehe- 
 mently. 
 
 There, there, honey, don' cry so. Was any one 
 cross to you ? Pore lamb ! " 
 
 "They don't want me here! None of them do! 
 And I'm so lonesome and wretched with no one to love 
 me ever such a little bit." 
 
 Lizzy's clasp tightened. 
 
 " If I had wanted to come to Sherburne House," 
 sobbed Dell, " it would have been different. And oh, 
 why can't I go back?" 
 
 " O Missy dear, don* cry so. You see no one can 
 help ner hinder. The good Lord he jes' let it happen 
 this way, and maybe the reason all come round clear 
 some day. 'Tain't daylight all to once Missy. An" it's 
 darkest jes' 'fore dawn, but the day always comes. And 
 you must jes' trus' the Lord." 
 
 " How ^an I?" cried Dell despairingly. " And you 
 see there is nothing about me that fits Sherburne 
 House, while at home with Mamma Murray everything 
 was smooth and delightful. I did not try to be good 
 it came easy." 
 
 " You had anoder mammy ?" queried Lizzy. At the 
 quarters they had an idea that the child had been res- 
 cued from some terrible kind of life. 
 
 "Oh let me tell you." They walked on to Lizzy's 
 cabin. There was a neat living room where the floor 
 was scrubbed clean as a pin. The adjoining apartment 
 was a sort of parlor, with a square of carpet in the centre 
 made of odds and ends so tastefully arranged it looked 
 almost like an oriental rug, but Lizzy knew nothing 
 about the Orient and its manufactures. A bed stood 
 in one corner, piled up high and white as a snowdrift. 
 At a window sat a young girl sewing on a machine.
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 109 
 
 It seemed so good to Dell to tell her story even to a 
 colored woman who had no place in the great house. 
 In the dreary loneliness Dell realized that she had 
 found a true friend. She could feel it in the gentle 
 clasp, in the soft, sympathetic eyes. And surely the 
 Murrays' friendly deed lost nothing at her hands. It 
 seemed as if she had never understood the full purport 
 and generosity of it until now. Her soul awoke to the 
 true measure. 
 
 Lizzy wiped her eyes. "They were the Lord's own 
 people," she said. " And you see, honey, how he raised 
 up friends fer you and your poor sick mother. He's 
 watchin' you now. His ways is mysteries," and Lizzy's 
 voice dropped to a reverential sound. 
 
 " But you see, I ought not forget them." 
 
 " Fergit them, Miss Lyndell ! Why, honey, that 
 would be the mos' unthankfulest thing of all. No you 
 mustn't fergit them. And the Lord '11 bring them to you 
 somehow. We can't see. But it'll all come right for 
 them that trust the Lord." 
 
 Dell did not understand the reasoning, but the soft 
 flowing voice comforted her and she dried her eyes. 
 
 " You kin eat a saucer of berries, I know," and Lizzy 
 smiled. " An' a chunk o' cake." 
 
 "You are so kind. And if you'll let me come 
 often " 
 
 Lizzy shook her head slowly, regretfully. 
 
 " That mus' be as ole Missis says. She rule eberybody. 
 But you're always welcome. I'm glad there was some- 
 thin' to make you happy up norf," and she indicated the 
 far-off city with her head. " I hope you'll git over bein' 
 homesick. Some nice people over yender brought me 
 up, 'n when they died 'n I was sold Souf, my heart 
 break, fer shua ! I wanted to run away 'n come back. 
 I cry to the Lord powerful, honey, an' he send his angel 
 'cordin' to promis'. Homer, that's my man, come to
 
 110 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 comfort me. An' de good Lord give me a baby, an* 
 dat gloris freedom we all prayin' fer, an' led us back tru 
 de wilderness. De Lord bring it all right, honey." 
 
 Dell finished her berries and glanced over the rows of 
 vegetables, the waving corn, the poles of beans in white 
 and scarlet array. About the door hung great sprays of 
 honeysuckle and a pyramid of hollyhocks. Out beyond 
 was a gorgeous poppy bed, and roses everywhere. Some 
 of the cabins seemed set in the desert by mere contrast, 
 and more than one garden patch was full of weeds. 
 
 Just then a tall, thin mulatto man came up the walk. 
 He stooped a little in the shoulders, and his gait was 
 rather shambling, but he had a good face, full of that 
 honest, pathetic, wordless asking that you sometimes 
 find in faces that have puzzled over the mysteries of life. 
 There had been many for Homer Jackson, but he was 
 very comfortable now, happy in the love of wife and 
 children, and sufficiently penetrated with the ambitions 
 of the new order of things to desire advancement for his 
 children if he could not have much for himself. 
 
 " This is young Missy, Homer," said his wife. " Miss 
 Lyndell, who will one day be missis to us all," and she 
 smiled. 
 
 He had a bundle of blocks and pieces of board under 
 cne arm, but with the other he touched his old straw hat. 
 
 " Welcome, Missy," he said. " I knowed yer pa 
 when he was a han'some young man. An' I hope 
 everybody's made you welcome. 'Pears right fer Mar's 
 Edward's chile to come back 'mong us, but there's been 
 a many changes. 'Pears hard he couldn't a lived to 
 come hisself." 
 
 Dell's eyes filled with tears. The regret seemed so 
 kindly, so sincere. 
 
 " But we'll do all we kin in duty to you, Missy," and 
 lie touched his hat again. " 'Twon't be long 'fore you're 
 a young lady growed up."
 
 GILDED PRISON EARS. Ill 
 
 Dell suddenly realized that it must be late, and won- 
 dered what had become of Ned and Frances. 
 
 " You jes' run over to Chloe's," said Lizzy to Homer 
 junior. 
 
 The children had gone long ago. Dell flushed with 
 an unwonted heart tremble. Then she seized Lizzy's 
 hand and pressed it to her cheek. It was soft and 
 shapely. Toil had not left unsightly impresses on it. 
 
 "Good-bye," she cried, and ran down the sort of lane- 
 like street. 
 
 As she threaded her way through the shady pines, the 
 dry needles yielding like cushions under her feet, her 
 whole being was mysteriously stirred. Here her father 
 had played about as a little boy. Everybody seemed to 
 remember his bright winsomeness. Everybody had loved 
 him ! It appeared an incomprehensible mystery that he 
 should have gone away even with her mother. Of the 
 greater love and the enthusiastic faith of manhood and 
 womanhood Dell could know nothing as yet. But for a 
 moment she felt tempted to blame her mother. 
 
 Just as she emerged from the pines she caught sight of 
 Cassy coming swiftly toward her. 
 
 " O Miss Dell, how could you ! " the girl cried in vex- 
 ation. "When you know how necessary it is to keep 
 on the right side of Miss Sherburne." 
 
 " She hasn't any right side for me," declared the child 
 with abrupt defiance. " Nothing I could do would seem 
 nice to her. She doesn't want me here, and yet she is 
 compelled to have me, and it is cruel to blame me 
 
 " Hush, Miss Dell. You do not try to make her like 
 you." 
 
 " I don't care whether she does or not," and Dell's 
 lip curled scornfully. 
 
 " If you had only come home with the other children," 
 said Cassy, " there would have been no great time. But 
 Mar's Ned said they looked for you everywhere."
 
 112 SHERBUKNE HOUSE. 
 
 " It is a lie ! " cried Dell indignantly. " I was only at 
 Lizzy's cottage. And Chloe would have sent some one 
 to find me. They hate me those children. And Ned 
 isn't fair nor square in anything ! " 
 
 Dell's code of right and wrong had been so ex- 
 tremely simple at the Murrays that her own frankness 
 was prejudicial to her. 
 
 Miss Sherburne stood on the side porch, taller and 
 more judicial looking than ever. Dell marched up 
 boldly, defiance in every line of her face. 
 
 " How came you to go down to the quarters without 
 permission? " was the sharp inquiry. 
 
 "My cousin Edward proposed it," answered Dell with 
 a kind of mimicking insolence. " And if he who has no 
 especial right here, can go where he likes, I cannot un- 
 derstand why I should not, when I am to be mistress of 
 Sherburne House presently." 
 
 Miss Sherburne was speechless with indignation. If 
 she had followed her first impulse Dell's cheek would 
 have tingled with a blow. In her young days such a 
 punishment would have followed swiftly. But methods 
 had changed since her girlhood, and she was delicate 
 enough herself to understand the indignity. 
 
 " Miss Lyndell Sherburne," she said, with the auster- 
 ity of a judge, "you will please understand once for all 
 that I have an older right than yours, and that it holds 
 good during my lifetime. The hand that signed the un- 
 fortunate will giving your father such a heritage, only to 
 be repaid with ingratitude, provided me with a home in 
 my father's house so long as I choose to keep it. You 
 never can have all the right while I live. I could send 
 you away to school and not allow you to enter this house 
 for the next five years." 
 
 " O, I wish you would," cried Dell eagerly. " If you 
 are going to stay here always, I shall hate it worse than 
 ever ! Do send me to school ! "
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 113 
 
 "Go up to your room immediately. You will not 
 leave it again to-night, and you will have no supper. 
 You shall be made obedient and respectful if it takes 
 weeks to do it. A great shameless girl like you, running 
 races with boys and climbing trees, and making yourself 
 an object of ridicule for the very servants ! And you are 
 not to go near the quarters. You are not to stir out of 
 the house without permission." 
 
 " You have no right to keep me a prisoner." 
 
 "Not another word ; go ! " She caught her by the 
 shoulder and thrust her into the hall. Dell walked with 
 a firm step and held up her head defiantly, though her 
 cheeks were in a blaze. In her own room she threw off 
 her hat, then dropped on the side of the bed and gave 
 way to a paroxysm of laughter that was half hysterical 
 weeping. 
 
 Gassy entered and stared at her in surprise. 
 
 " Do you suppose she will kill me, Cassy ? " the child 
 asked. " Because I would as lief be dead as to live 
 with her forever and ever. Is it true that she must stay 
 here always? Then what good will Sherburne House 
 be to me ? I know she will live to be a hundred just to 
 spite me." 
 
 There was an ominous silence. Cassy put away her 
 hat, then began to unbutton her boots. 
 
 "I'm not going to bed!" cried Dell. <4 Why, it's 
 daytime. It won't be night for ever so long. And you , 
 can t make me." 
 
 She stood up defiantly. 
 
 " Miss Dell, you had better allow me to undress you,, 
 or I must call Miss Sherburne." 
 
 Dell considered. " Very well," with a dignity that 
 would have done credit to her great-aunt. Cassy dis- 
 robed her, brushed out her tangled mat of hair, and 
 then carefully put away her clothes. 
 
 "Ask God to make you a better girl when you say
 
 114 SHERBURNE HOl'xE. 
 
 your prayers, Miss Dell," Cassy said as she turned to 
 leave the room. Then Dell heard tlie click of the lock, 
 and her face was in a scarlet blaze again. 
 
 She had climbed two trees. She had run several 
 races ; perhaps the sin lay in doing it with Ned. Frances 
 had taken no share in the boisterous sport. And she 
 had talked to Lizzy. Already she liked her better than 
 Cassy. What was there so terrible, since she really had 
 not been forbidden to do any of them ? 
 
 She wrapped a shawl around her and seated herself 
 one side of the window in a low willow rocker. She had 
 half a mind to don her clothes and climb out of the 
 window. She wondered what rights she really liad. 
 Must she obey Miss Sherburne in everything? 
 
 "If I only knew," she ruminated, with a perplexed 
 brow. "Mamma Murray always told me what not to 
 do, and it doesn't seem as if I was so very bad then. 
 Oh, my dear, sweet mamma, if I could but fly back to 
 you ! And you were all so good to me, and loved me 
 when you might have sent me away. And papa Mur- 
 ray used to carry me in his arms like the good shepherd 
 in the picture. And he never said, 'go 'way, little girl, 
 1 have lambs enough of my own.' Oh, my dear papa 
 Murray." 
 
 Dell cried for very loneliness and longing. She 
 wanted to feel the fond arms about her, the warm kisses 
 on her lips. Ah, if she could only throw up Sherburne 
 House and go back ! 
 
 How lovely it all was. The birds were singing slow- 
 homeward tunes, or croning to their nest full of lit tie 
 ones. Every pulse of Dell's protested against the cruelty 
 of being shut up here. And she was hungry. She had 
 never been denied a meal before in her life ! A passion 
 of anger drowned out her tender emotion of a moment 
 ago ; so dependent on moods are our best impulses. 
 
 Then she bethought herself of a stolen pleasure. She
 
 GILDED PRISON BARS. 115 
 
 had brought a book upstairs earlier in the day from a 
 collection in a small library case, that looked as if it 
 might be general property. That she ought to ask, had 
 not then occurred to her. Now she felt quite as if she 
 had outwitted some one, and picked up " Queechy " 
 with a thrill of delight. There she sat and read until a 
 step sounded in the adjoining room, when she crept 
 softly to bed, taking her book. She read until dusk 
 fairly overtook her, then hid her book under the pillow. 
 It was Dell's first real lesson in deceit, and it gave her a 
 feeling of elation rather than guilt. 
 
 When Miss Sherburne came to bed she found her in 
 the profound, if rather restless, slumber of childhood. 
 And she sighed over the burthen she had elected to 
 carry.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 
 
 DELL was awake early the next morning. It took hct 
 some moments to disentangle the curious impressions. 
 Then she remembered her book and sat up to read it 
 until she heard Miss Sherburne stirring about. How- 
 ever, she went downstairs. Dell read on to the last page 
 and closed the book with a sigh. Then she thought it a 
 prudent step to put it out of sight. 
 
 She sprang back into bed just as Cassy entered. 
 
 " What ! not up yet? " asked Cassy in surprise. 
 
 " I was sent to bed. I did not know when I would be 
 allowed to get up," she answered demurely. 
 
 " Well, you must be quick now." 
 
 Dell made no trouble. She generally helped herself 
 largely. She was just in order when Miss Sherburne ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " I hope you have thought over your reprehensible 
 conduct of last evening," said that lady austerely, " and 
 truly regret it. You will beg my pardon." 
 
 Dell stared in amazement. Then she said in a firm 
 but not ungentle tone, 
 
 " I had not been forbidden to go down to the quarters. 
 Ned asked us to, and Frances went." 
 
 " Edward if you please," with freezing dignity. 
 " Well, why did you not return with them ? " 
 
 Dell colored. Surely it was not her fault. 
 
 " You quarreled with them at Chloe's cabin and rait 
 away. Where did you go then ? " 
 116
 
 BREAD EATEN IX SECRET. lit 
 
 Dell wondered if she would get Lizzy in trouble. She 
 might have to tell of her other ramble. 
 
 "I stopped at a cottage and a woman spoke to me. 
 Then I went over in the pine woods." 
 
 " And amused yourself climbing trees?" 
 
 " No I did not climb any then." 
 
 Dell stood silent for some seconds. 
 
 "You were insufferably insolent to me," and there 
 was a bright pink in Miss Sherburne's cheeks. 
 
 " I would much rather go to school. And I did not 
 know that you had to stay here ' ' 
 
 " 1 do not have to stay here, Miss Lyndell Sherburne. 
 I have sufficient fortune of my own to enable me to live 
 anywhere else. I stay because the estate would be 
 poorly cared for without my supervision. Perhaps you 
 could manage it? " with intense scorn. 
 
 "I should send for Mamma Murray," cried Dell, 
 eagerly. " She lived on a farm 
 
 Miss Sherburne ground her heel on the floor with rage, 
 she was too lady-like to stamp. 
 
 " Never let me hear you mention that woman in such 
 a manner," she said with passionate anger. "Those 
 people shall never enter the house while I am here I 
 want you to understand that. Sit down in that chair." 
 Dell obeyed. 
 
 What was to be done with this contumacious girl? 
 Miss Sherburne was at; her wits' end. 
 
 The breakfast bell rafig. The lady walked majestically 
 toward the door. 
 
 "Am I not to have any breakfast?" cried Dell. 
 " You can starve me I suppose, but it would be murder. 
 And if you all hate me so why can you not send me to 
 New York? I never was a trouble to "her voice 
 broke a little " any one before. When I am grown I 
 will never stay here one day " 
 
 Miss Sherburne left the room. Dell shed some tears
 
 118 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 of anger and bitterness. Presently Cassy came up with 
 a plate of cold biscuits and a glass of milk. No butter 
 and no fruit. Dell felt it very prison-like rations, but she 
 was hungry. 
 
 Cassy put the two rooms in order. Miss Sherburne 
 came up and gave her two penitential psalms to learn. 
 Then she dressed herself and locking Dell in went to 
 church. 
 
 Dell soon mastered her penance. Oh, what should she 
 do ! If she dared ask Cassy to get her the second volume 
 of Queechy ! She glanced out of the window for a while. 
 Then a thought occurred to her. She stepped cautiously 
 out on the porch roof and in again at Miss Sherburne's 
 window. Her door stood wide open. No one was in 
 sight. Dell slipped down the stairs softly as a mouse and 
 entered the library. She thrust her book in and drew 
 out the other, ran breathlessly upstairs and regained her 
 own room with a thrill of delight. 
 
 Cassy came up once and looked in upon her, then sat 
 down in Miss Sherburne's room until that lady returned. 
 Dell hid her book and took up her psalms. She said 
 them properly and Miss Sherburne read her a moral 
 lesson on her wickedness, which Dell resented with much 
 inward bitterness, knowing it totally undeserved. 
 
 Her noon meal was bread and a glass of milk. Then 
 she read several chapters in the Bible aloud until Miss 
 Sherburne went to take her siesta. Afterward the 
 Beaumanoirs came over and remained to tea, but Dell 
 was so interested in following the fortunes of poor sad 
 little Fleda that she minded nothing. After tea they all 
 went out to drive and at dusk Dell had finished her 
 fascinating story. She was tired with the enforced quiet 
 and steady reading, and slipped into bed where she soon 
 fell asleep. 
 
 " That child is hardened as a stone," Miss Sherburne 
 said to herself. " Nothing makes an impression on her."
 
 BREAD EATEN 7A T SECRET. lift 
 
 But she resolved to keep her under her own eye. to 
 tame her down, as she phrased it. She had ruled slaves 
 and reduced refractory servants to obedience, and the 
 child should not defy her authority. 
 
 If she had only made an appeal to Dell's better self, 
 the side that could have been so easily won by a little 
 love. But she did not, could not love her. The girl's 
 mother had stolen away her idol. For Edward Sher- 
 burne had been like a child of her very own, dearer to 
 her than any of the girls. She could always see his 
 handsome, sunny face, his gay, tender manner, his 
 affectionate heart. It had been stolen from them by this 
 intriguing thief she could call her by no better name. 
 And that her child must take Sherburne House from the 
 next favorite, was bitter indeed. She would be honest, 
 Miss Sherburne said to herself. She would make no pre- 
 tence of loving the child, but she would do her duty 
 strictly, quite forgetting how cruel a stepmother duty can 
 be when divorced from love. 
 
 It would have gratified her and perhaps have rendered 
 her less rigid had Dell shown any elation over her new 
 home and prospects. But that she should want to return 
 to the Murray s was the most mortifying lack of appre- 
 ciation, of pride and family dignity. But she should\& 
 trained to respect it. 
 
 " Dell's heart gave a great bound when she understood 
 (hat she was to be allowed the following morning to go 
 over to the Beaumanoir schoolroom. Truth to tell, Miss 
 Burtis was warmly interested in such an intelligent pupil, 
 though she used a great deal of tact. Dell being so free 
 from personal vanity unconsciously seconded her efforts. 
 She still abhorred the French but took great pains with 
 her Latin. 
 
 " Didn't you catch it on Saturday ! " said Ned with a 
 sort of triumphant laugh as they were coming downstairs, 
 peering insolently into her eyes.
 
 120 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Dell bestowed upon him a withering look but uttered 
 no word. 
 
 That afternoon her patience was sorely tried with Mr. 
 Sterret, who came to give her a music lesson. To make 
 the matter more exasperating for Dell, Miss Sherburne 
 was present. She blundered horribly. Her fingers 
 seemed stiff and clumsy, and she became more and 
 more confused. On the other hand, she knew the letters, 
 lines and spaces, and Mr. Sterret did his best to encourage 
 her. 
 
 If Miss Sherburne had been hoping to invent some 
 particular torment for the girl, she had surely found it 
 now. To sit there and practice two mortal hours with 
 those sharp eyes upon her seemed to Dell the very depths 
 of bitter woe. What with the music and the sewing and 
 her lessons, she was allowed no time out of doors save the 
 rides to and fro. It seemed to her some days that she 
 should die of weariness. And the following Saturday she 
 was kept a strict prisoner. 
 
 In answer to Miss Burtis* inquiries, three applications, 
 had been made. Two were from comparatively young 
 women. The third frankly admitted her middle life and 
 her experience and enclosed references. She had taught 
 fifteen years in a large private school on the confines of 
 Brooklyn. 
 
 " I think I shall settle upon this Miss Hendricks," the 
 lady said, comparing the letters. " I want an experi- 
 enced and sensible person, who has some authority, and 
 is not coming for the pure pleasure of the thing. I will 
 write to her." 
 
 Miss Burtis really felt sorry for Dell in the selec- 
 tion. She had a feeling that Dell's training was un- 
 fortunate. 
 
 For a week there was a sort of armed truce, and neither 
 party overstepped the bounds. The next had more 
 variety. The Beaumanoir children were all excitement
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 121 
 
 about their summering at Atlantic City where they owned 
 -a cottage. Mrs. Beaumanoir was busy with dressmaking 
 and packing, Violet had a guest, and the excitement was 
 quite entertaining to Dell. Oh, what would she do when 
 she was left alone with Miss Sherburne ! 
 
 It was Saturday morning and Julius brought in the 
 mail-bag. Dell had more than once speculated about 
 her letter. She knew now that Miss Sherburne intended 
 the parting between her and the Murrays to be final, but 
 she sternly resolved to remember them to her dying day. 
 
 Miss Sherburne glanced over the letters. There was 
 one for Miss Lyndell Sherburne with a New York post- 
 mark. She was so startled that she held it a full 
 moment before she could decide. She could destroy it 
 she certainly would not be so dishonorable as to read 
 it first in that case no Sherburne would be guilty 
 of such a despicable proceeding. If she gave it to 
 Dell she would have a right to insist upon seeing it 
 afterward. 
 
 " Here is a letter for you" and she held it out to 
 Dell as if it might be contamination. 
 
 Dell's face was scafrlet. Her fingers trembled as she 
 took it. Alarm was greater than joy. Almost she 
 wished it had not been written. Then a thrill of delight 
 succeeded. 
 
 Miss Sherburne had some that demanded her atten- 
 tion. Dell glanced up timidly. If she only dared go to 
 her room. But she opened it and at Con's well-known 
 hand a joyous smile illuminated her face : 
 
 MY DEAR, DEAR DELL : You are a trump, a brick ! 
 plucky enough to be a boy ! I wish you were here ! 
 Bad cess to the fortune that you don't want. And as to 
 missing you, there's the biggest sort of hole everywhere ! 
 It doesn't seem like the same house. But hooray ! I'm 
 in the high school and Tess was promoted and every- 
 body bewailed you.
 
 122 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 As for that she-dragon how you are going to stand 
 the old thing I don't know. I'd lay a powder train and 
 blow her up some dark night ! I'd make life a burden 
 and death a vision of joy. For maybe you've found out 
 that she don't mean you to keep in \\ith us the ungrate- 
 ful old cat ! She told father there must be no letters, and 
 ;it first he said yours could not be answered. And when 
 mother said a little bit of a letter might be written, Tess 
 was frightened out of her wits, and did not dare under- 
 take it, but I beard the lion in his den you see, and me 
 name is McFergus. But we know you can't forget us, 
 and some time in the distant future you'll see me march- 
 ing in. Won't there be a gay old time ! Will she order 
 me out with the broomstick ? But old maids are simply 
 atrocious. She'll keep you so tight and snug that you'll 
 never be allowed to marry, then they can get the fortune 
 back again. Or she may wall you up in a secret closet, 
 or bury you in a cellar vault. They used to do fearful 
 things in slave times, and they're a bad lot generally. 
 I doubt if they've got over their queer ways. 
 
 O Dell, we want you back. Life is as empty as the 
 coal hod mother pokes at me. You were the jolliest girl 
 I ever knew. Make a big fight, and if the dragon is 
 utterly horrid run away. We'll be glad to take you 
 back and love you with the same old love pepper and 
 salt thrown in to make it keep. And I'm just crazy to 
 hear again. Maybe she hasn't laid down the law of for- 
 getting your old friends to you. Would it be too terrific 
 to smuggle another letter? Mammy says it wouldn't be 
 right. Maybe she's nearer the head centre of con- 
 science. But we send you thousands of kisses and tons 
 of love, and shall never forget you. Yours to command 
 till death 
 
 CON MURRAY. 
 
 She drew a long breath. Like a delightful vision the 
 house in Murray's Row opened before her longing eyes. 
 For a moment she forgot her present life. 
 
 A shadow seemed to chill the atmosphere. 
 
 "Who is your letter from?'' seemed almost a knell 
 of doom. A cold stream ran down her back.
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 1-2S 
 
 "From from New York," and Dell clutched it 
 tightly, with a quick shiver. 
 
 " I did not ask you where it was from." 
 
 Dell started as if she would fly. 
 
 "Give it to me," said Miss Sherburne, authorita- 
 tively. 
 
 Dell's face was scarlet. Allow her to read Con's em- 
 phatic strictures ! 
 
 " It is mine. And there will not be any more " 
 
 "It is not yours in the proper sense. You are hold- 
 ing a clandestine and forbidden correspondence with 
 those detestable Murray s. They have broken their 
 promise, but I did not suppose they possessed any sense 
 of honor. You are in my charge, and I have a right to 
 examine your correspondence. If it was an honorable 
 and commendable letter, you would not hesitate. 
 
 Dell's breath came quick and hard. She saw the out- 
 stretched hand, thin and long like some ghostly in- 
 truder, threatening to grasp her. A cold shudder shook 
 her. 
 
 She made a sudden dash through the open window. 
 The hand caught at her shoulder, but she jerked away, 
 flew across the porch and over the lawn, never pausing 
 for breath until she was out of sight. Down here was a 
 great hollow tree, the delight of squirrels. Dell took her 
 letter without rereading a word, tore it to bits nnd 
 dropped it in for the denizens of the woods to weave into 
 their beds. Then she walked slowly back, considering ; 
 her heart throbbing at the injustice of thus being cut off 
 from the friends who had a right to her gratitude and 
 love. 
 
 Still, if she had waited a week she would not have 
 written. She had a sort of misgiving even then, she 
 remembered. And yet what gave Miss Sherburne this 
 supreme right over her? If Dell only knew the mysteri- 
 ous points, and how far she had any privileges !
 
 124 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 She returned boldly. It was better to face the con- 
 sequences at once. Miss Sherburne sat there upright, 
 severe, the very lines of her face repellent instead of 
 persuasive. 
 
 " Have you concluded to obey my proper request? " 
 was the austere demand. 
 
 " I can't- I have destroyed the letter. It had some- 
 thing in it for me alone. It would not have been fair for 
 me to to Dell's breath strangled her. 
 
 "You are extremely conscientious," with cutting 
 scorn. 
 
 "I want to tell you I wrote a letter first. I was 
 so wretched and homesick, and I did not understand that 
 we that I " 
 
 " You miserable, despicable, underhand girl ! You 
 are utterly destitute of honor as destitute as those low- 
 lived Murray s. You have not one virtue that goes to the 
 making of an admirable character. Who mailed your 
 letter? " 
 
 Dell was silent. 
 
 Miss Sherburne shook her by the shoulder. 
 
 .'"' I did not think about it until after it was done. 
 And Con was sorry, but they all said you had forbidden 
 ny writing. He coaxed his mother, and she consented 
 just for this time. They will not write again." 
 
 "You will not have the letter if they do. And I 
 trusted you but this ends it." 
 
 " But there will be no other letter," Dell said, with 
 a touch of defiance. " This one was my fault." 
 
 " Take that for your insolence." 
 
 There was a stinging blow on Dell's cheek, and she 
 turned with an indignant passion flaming from her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Go to your room at once. You will not leave it again 
 to-day." 
 
 Dell did not wait for a second bidding. She flew in a
 
 BEE AD EATEN IN SECRET. 125 
 
 perfect whirlwind of anger. Once in her own apart- 
 ment, she stamped her foot on the floor she would have 
 enjoyed demolishing something. 
 
 " You are a hateful, mean old thing," she cried. I 
 shall never be sorry again for anything I do. And 1 
 shall not care how bad I am or how much I deceive you L 
 Luckily I have a book up here ; " and she laughed 
 scornfully. "Just wait until I am grown. I'll have all 
 the Murrays here and we will raise bedlam about your 
 ears. And I'll go up to New York whenever I like. 
 Oh, if I could run away ! If I was a boy I could walk 
 and beg," and she sighed over the lost opportunity to 
 distinguish boyhood. 
 
 A little before noon she sat reading very composedly 
 when the Beaumanoir carriage drove up. A tall, good- 
 looking young fellow sprang out, then a slim, graceful 
 girl, Violet and Cecil. 
 
 " That must be Leonard," she said, with a new in- 
 terest. He had dark, curling hair and a bright com- 
 plexion ; a pleasant voice and laugh. 
 
 " Dear Aunt Aurelia," he cried. "You do look worn. 
 I have been hearing about this new importation. Was 
 she very fresh from the bogs? or, let me see it's squat- 
 ter sovereignty up there in New York. Did you find 
 her driving the geese or tending the goat, and is her 
 brogue very decided ? " 
 
 Dell did not catch the answer, but her face was in a 
 flame again. The reply was low, all the voices were 
 lower indeed. Perhaps they left her for more genial 
 topics. Pleasant laughs floated up to her. Then they 
 went in to dinner. 
 
 Hers was sent up to her. If Cassy suspected the 
 books were contraband, she was discreetly blind. She 
 had come to feel curiously sorry for Dell, and yet she 
 blamed her too. She was too outspoken, too uncom- 
 promising. Her simple life had been deficient in the
 
 126 SHEPBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 training that prepares one for emergencies, and tact did 
 not come naturally to her. 
 
 In truth her heart was filled with bitterness as she ate 
 her bread, thinking of the table downstairs, the deli- 
 cacies and the fruit, while hers seemed indeed prison 
 lure. They were feasting, they came here and had the 
 best of everything, while she, the true mistress, had no 
 rights. 
 
 Suddenly an exultant thought stirred her soul. 
 
 Sherburne House was hers. She had been wild 
 enough to plan restoring it to her cousin, but now a dif- 
 ferent resolve awoke within her. No, he should never 
 have it. And when she was grown they should not 
 come here at all. 
 
 She remembered there was a dish of fruit in Miss 
 Sherburne's room. She darted out of her window in a 
 sort of insolent glee, and into the other, picked out 
 some of the choicest pears and nectarines, and stole 
 back again, enjoying her feast without a bit of com- 
 punction ; she who a month ago would have asked 
 Mamma Murray for the merest thing. 
 
 They all went into the cool parlor after dinner. Dell 
 grew drowsy over her book and fell fast asleep. The 
 lawn was largely in shade and the breeze much cooler 
 when she was roused by Cassy calling her name. 
 
 "Miss Dell," she said, "you may be dressed and 
 <:ome downstairs." 
 
 Dell rubbed her eyes and glanced around. 
 
 " I am to stay here all day," she said stiffly. " Miss 
 Sherburne shall see that I can obey to the letter. No, 
 don't come near me! Don't dare to touch me. I will 
 not be dressed and shown ,up like a wild beast," she 
 declared tempestuously. 
 
 Cassy looked at her gravely, "Miss Dell," she said, 
 " if I were you, I should be glad of an opportunity of 
 getting back so easily. Miss Sherburne was very angry
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 12T 
 
 this morning, but young ladies do not write letters with- 
 out any check or guard. And when you had been for- 
 bidden " 
 
 " I wasn't forbidden until afterward." 
 
 " But you kept it quite to yourself." 
 
 " And I shall keep anything to myself that I don't 
 choose to tell," was the defiant answer. 
 
 "And Miss Sherburne found out who took the letter. 
 If Julius should do such a thing again he will be dis- 
 charged." 
 
 Dell was raging with anger but she shut her lips with 
 an unpleasant firmness. 
 
 " Come, Miss Dell " 
 
 " I am not going downstairs, Cassy. I will not go 
 down to be looked over and sneered at. I heard Mas- 
 ter Leonard, as you call him, ask how much brogue 
 I had ; " and in spite of anger the tears flooded Dell's 
 eyes. 
 
 " But Miss Milly wishes to see you. You cannot help 
 liking her." 
 
 " Then I will not go for that reason. I do not want 
 to like any of them." 
 
 In vain Cassy persuaded. Dell was resolute. So the 
 handmaid left her to herself. No one came near her. 
 No supper was sent up to her. Downstairs some one 
 played beautifully, and there was singing that moved 
 Dell to tears, almost broke her heart. She felt so des- 
 olate and forlorn, and presently cried herself to sleep. 
 When she finally roused, the house was still and dark. 
 
 Miss Sherburne took no further notice of her than to 
 call her the next morning. She went to church. Dell 
 sat on the veranda, and studied "my duty to God and 
 my duty to my neighbor," and Miss Sherburne branched 
 into a short lecture. But there was not even the walk 
 with Cassy. It seemed 19 Dell that she would fly in 
 pieces.
 
 12H SHERBUENE HOUSE. 
 
 Miss Hendricks was to come on Tuesday. Dell was 
 glad and thankful, for Monday seemed the longest day 
 she had ever known. 
 
 Miss Hendricks was not the kind of a woman to win a 
 child's favor at a glance. She was forty or thereabouts, 
 a rather sharp-featured person who wore near-sighted 
 glasses over prominent bluish-black eyes. She had a 
 thin metallic voice, and an extremely straightforward 
 manner. Miss Sherburne thought her admirably calcu- 
 lated for her position, and her pupil. She explained at 
 some length Dell's character, and the disabilities as she 
 considered them. 
 
 "She has had no sort of training. And you cannot 
 allow her to go unwatched a moment." 
 
 Miss Hendricks had already a wide experience with 
 girls some quite unmanageable ones. She felt herself 
 qual to any emergency, yet she hardly counted on hav- 
 ing a savage to tame. 
 
 " Your governess has arrived," Miss Sherburne an- 
 nounced to Dell. "I wish you to consider these weeks 
 quite in the light of a punishment. There was no reason 
 why you should not join your cousins for their summer 
 holiday, boating, bathing and amusing yourselves, ex- 
 cept that you are too lawless, too insolent and untrust- 
 worthy, to say nothing of your deceit and your passion- 
 ate temper. You would prove a disgrace to any well- 
 regulated household. And you are so deficient in the 
 \isual attainments of children of your age that you have 
 not a day to lose." 
 
 Dell winked a suspicious moisture from her eyes, and 
 her whole soul protested against this sweeping denuncia- 
 tion. It was so terribly untrue. Why, in some branches 
 she stood on a par with Violet. And no one had ever 
 considered her so base before. She felt the injustice 
 keenly. 
 
 She and Miss Hendricks eyed each other warily.
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 129 
 
 They went to the schoolroom, and after putting a few 
 questions the teacher found her pupil not quite be- 
 nighted. Then they returned to the parlor and the 
 piano, and Miss Hendricks seated herself near by. 
 
 The fingering was the burthen of Dell's life. Mr. 
 Sterret was very particular, and as yet it was a torment 
 to her. Absolute rhyme, rather than rhythm, was her 
 delight. If she only dared pick out a tune, but her 
 one attempt had called down Miss Sherburne's wrath. 
 
 Certainly the child had a rough sort of perseverance. 
 And she was not the ignoramus she had been repre- 
 sented. 
 
 "Stop and rest your hand a little," said Miss Hen- 
 dricks. "You play by main strength and tire yourself. 
 Tell me where you went to school in New York." 
 
 Dell's face warmed to a pleasant surprise as she an- 
 swered quite at length. 
 
 " Did you like mathematics?" 
 
 "Oh, so much," cried Dell eagerly. "And history 
 and philosophy and physical geography." 
 
 " And the languages are you interested in them 
 now ? " 
 
 " I do not really mind the Latin. Some words have 
 such a grand sound. But the French I hate ! " viciously. 
 " And how one is ever to twist up one's lips and talk 
 through one's nose and give it a twang I don't try, I 
 never shall." 
 
 "That is an excellent reason for the failure, but not 
 so good a reason for the pupil. And about the music?'" 
 
 " Oh, if I could really play ! But to have your fingers 
 and thumbs chasing up and down the keys, getting in 
 each other's way, tumbling and sprawling about, is so 
 ridiculous! I can never learn;" in despair, with a 
 curious latent satisfaction that betrayed her obstinacy. 
 
 " Now begin again. Lightly a skip rather than the 
 thud. That is better."
 
 130 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Dell smiled a little and really tried. It was pleasant 
 to have a human being near who could tell you what to 
 do without incessant faultfinding. 
 
 Whatever romance Miss Hendricks might have enter- 
 tained about teaching in the earlier days had died out 
 completely. It was now a mere matter of business. 
 Her present aim was to save up money enough to live 
 upon comfortably as she neared sixty. She had two 
 married brothers and one sister, with families of children 
 who rather derided their old maid aunt, with the careless 
 audacity of youth. Moulding and shaping young minds 
 and souls, and glorious opportunities to tram them to 
 noble ends, no longer stirred her. She was hired at so 
 much a year to teach a certain amount of knowledge, 
 even if it took a sort of mental surgical skill to apply it. 
 And she was successful, more so than many with higher 
 aims. Her class was always ready for promotion. 
 Rigid as she was in outward observance of rules, she 
 had a certain versatility in her methods that brought 
 about the desired results. 
 
 She had come to Sherburne House simply for the 
 opportunity of devoting six weeks to earning money 
 instead of spending it. She would have a change ; 
 and surely teaching one child could not prove a severe 
 drain. 
 
 If there had been a little enthusiasm, a little care for 
 higher claims of human souls, Dell might have improved 
 rapidly. But Miss Hendricks soon learned that appre- 
 ciation of the child was not the way to the favor of the 
 Mistress. Since her being here was only incidental, she 
 would not espouse either side, and she could be severely 
 non-committal. 
 
 They began lessons the next morning, An hour in 
 the afternoon was to be devoted to French. And even 
 here Miss Hendricks managed to be interesting. She 
 related a bit of French history, an anecdote of some
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 131 
 
 heroic person that roused Dell to desire a nearer ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Every afternoon they took a walk. Certainly Miss 
 Sherburne was greatly relieved, and yet curiously dis- 
 satisfied. There was no complaint of Dell. She was 
 grave and orderly at the table. She attended to her 
 duties and made no trouble. 
 
 As they came back from their walk one afternoon she 
 saw the veranda full of the Beaumanoir family. There 
 had been considerable coming and going, but now they 
 were here to tea evidently. 
 
 Dell drew Miss Hendricks around to the side porch. 
 All her old belligerency that had somehow subsided was 
 roused in a moment. 
 
 Cassy was in her room waiting for her. A white dress 
 and sash were laid out on the bed. 
 
 " O Cassy," she cried beseechingly, " must I go 
 down ? I would rather be shut up in my room." 
 
 " Miss Dell, please don't make any trouble," entreated 
 Cassy. " They are all going to-morrow and you won't see 
 them again for two months or so. And now when every- 
 thing is running smoothly " 
 
 Dell submitted ungraciously. The bright face clouded 
 over and settled into repellent lines. 
 
 However, the supper bell rang just as she was ready 
 to go downstairs. She was briefly introduced to the two 
 cousins she had not seen. Mr. Beaumanoir nodded 
 kindly to her. 
 
 The conversation was principally about the summer 
 exodus and Mrs. Lepage's being abroad. The two sons 
 were to join their cousins at Atlantic City ; Major and 
 Mrs. Stanwood were expected from the West late in 
 the season, and there seemed a prospect of much 
 visiting at Sherburne House. Nothing took in the 
 little heiress, sitting quietly at her supper. Her own 
 loneliness touched her with a keen bitterness and
 
 132 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 brought the contrast with the joyous meals at the 
 Murrays. 
 
 "Do you have to go back to your room?" asked 
 Frances pertly as they went through the hall. 
 
 " Not if she behaves properly," said Miss Sherburne 
 at her very elbow. "You children may go out on the 
 lawn." 
 
 " Do you like your new governess?" was the next 
 query. 
 
 " Yes ;" laconically, her pulses rising in tumult. 
 
 " I shouldn't. She's awful cross looking. Auntie 
 said it was a punishment. You might have gone with 
 us, for you are our cousin ' ' 
 
 " I don't want to. I wouldn't for the world ! " flung 
 out Dell savagely. 
 
 "You have never been to Atlantic City in your life. 
 And those Murrays did not own a boat ! " 
 
 Frances had hit both facts correctly. 
 
 " I have been to other places," said Dell sharply. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " I don't choose to tell you." 
 
 " Hillo ! " cried a laughing voice. " Let me into the 
 thick of the fray. Come out here, I want to inspect you, 
 my new cousin," and Leonard Beaumanoir threw his 
 arm about Dell. " I want to see what kind of an unre- 
 generate savage you are ! You are pretty solid, any- 
 how." 
 
 Dell made a strenuous effort to release herself, but the 
 clasp had a power beyond her. 
 
 " You are my prisoner, and I am the strongest," with 
 a light laugh, as he glanced down into her eyes, gleam- 
 ing with passionate fire. "Why, you look as if you 
 could eat a body ! / ought to do the hating. I am the 
 one who has lost his castle in Spain, his Fortunatus 
 purse, who has been despoiled, who sits in the ashes 
 of undying regret because you rose up from the nether-
 
 BREAD EATEN IN SECRET. 133 
 
 most world. And if I am generous enough to forgive 
 you " 
 
 " I don't ask you to forgive me," cried Dell, with ill- 
 suppressed fury. " I did not want to come ! I hate 
 Sherburne House ! But it never was yours. It was 
 my own papa's ! " 
 
 " Well, you stood in the way. And I take it philo- 
 sophically while you go into a tearing passion," he re- 
 joined, with tormenting coolness. 
 
 1 ' I wanted to give it back to you at first. I asked 
 papa Murray if I could not. Then I should have stayed 
 with them. But now you shall never, never have it. I 
 would " how could she destroy it? " I would burn it 
 down first ! " 
 
 " Whew ! If you haven't a temper ! Why, I do not 
 know as you are safe to be at large. Is it your fiery 
 golden hair, or your race " 
 
 "I am not Irish!" cried Dell wrathfully, "but I 
 know of some Irish people I love a million times better 
 than I could love any of you ! And my own mamma 
 was an Englishwoman." 
 
 ".How did you come by the temper? " 
 
 Fanny giggled. Dell made a tremendous effort to 
 free herself. Millicent came toward them. 
 
 " Leonard, don't torment the poor child," she en- 
 treated. 
 
 "Poor child! Well, that is good. The richest 
 heiress in the county. We were discussing the nature 
 of the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets. 
 Upon my word, I don't envy Aunt Aurelia such a ter- 
 magant." 
 
 Millicent took her hand. " Let her go, Leonard," she 
 said imperatively. 
 
 " I haven't inquired into the strawberry mark. What 
 if she should turn out an impostor? " 
 
 This time Dell wrenched herself free. The violence
 
 134 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 sent her into Millicent's amis with such force that the 
 elder staggered. But the arms closed about Dell, who- 
 gave one long, shuddering sob. 
 
 "My dear child " and the voice was softly per- 
 suasive. 
 
 But it was too late for Dell to accept the olive-branch. 
 She stood up straight, her eyes flashing, her face set with 
 bitter determination. 
 
 "I know you all hate me," she cried passionately. 
 " And I hate you. When I am a woman not one of you 
 shall enter Sherburne House." 
 
 Then she ran swiftly indoors, up to her own room, tore 
 off her dress with frantic haste and made one plunge into 
 the bed lest she should be sent for. It was not the first 
 time she had forgotten her prayers. 
 
 Ned came up to the veranda with an account of the 
 fray. 
 
 " I am thankful she had the sense to go to her room," 
 said Miss Sherburne. " What a dreadful trial that child 
 will be 3 " The tears fairly came into her eyes. 
 
 " You must send her away, that is all about it. The 
 idea of threatening to burn the house down ! Why it is 
 not safe to have her here. How is the governess ? ' ' 
 
 " She manages her admirably. I really thought she 
 had begun to improve. O Laura, if I could only find 
 some trace of Edward in her ! He was such a sweet- 
 tempered, agreeable child, always doing the things that 
 pleased you. Sometimes I am quite certain she cannot 
 be his daughter." 
 
 Miss Sherburne wiped her eyes. She was deeply, 
 terribly disappointed. Seeing Millicent had brought a 
 vision of what such a daughter would be to Sherburne 
 House. And there was no hope of it.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 
 
 Miss SHERBURNE was away nearly all of the next flay. 
 She was more austere and distant ; chilly to the girl, 
 whom she gave mostly over to the governess. And 
 though Miss Hendricks was rather rigorous, she was not 
 a hard taskmistress. Dell was bright and eager on most 
 days, but there were times when she tried even her 
 trained patience. She could not understand that Dell 
 studied from a kind of feverish activity because there 
 was nothing else to interest her restless mind. Then she 
 dropped down from sheer weariness of heart and brain, 
 the despair that comes with utter isolation from proper 
 companionship. There were times when she wanted to 
 run and scream, to climb trees, to race with the squirrels, 
 to wade in the brook! She envied the little darkies at 
 the quarters, she longed for a glimpse of Lizzy with a 
 tormenting passion that almost led her to disobey. 
 
 She took walks with Miss Hendricks, but that person 
 was not fond of country ways, and had a fear of freed 
 slaves rambling around lawlessly. Occasionally they 
 drove out with Miss Sherburne. 
 
 She could talk about New York when they were alone, 
 a sort of sweet, sad gratification. How she longed lor 
 it ! If she were only a boy, and could start off on a 
 tramp ! She dreamed it over. She familiarized herself 
 with every step of the way. The through route passed 
 some twenty miles eastward. The branch road had 
 stations all along. There was one reached by a short 
 135
 
 136 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 cut through the woods. Of course a boy running away 
 would take that direction. 
 
 Ah, if she only had some money she might try it. The 
 thought was exhilarating. She would be brought back 
 locked up perhaps then sent to school. She had a 
 feeling that the Murrays would not consider it quite the 
 right thing, but she would see them and there would be 
 all the fun and excitement. Alas ! She had only two 
 dollars and ten cents. There was no way to earn money, 
 and no one to give her any. Perhaps at Christmas but 
 that was a long distance to look ahead. 
 
 Oh, how could she endure years and years of this 
 awful life ! And when the Beaumanoir children were 
 home it was worse. Frances was so tormenting. And 
 Ned was a sneak. She was quite sure of that. Oh, if 
 Con could only punch his head once ! 
 
 So the days went on wearily. And one afternoon 
 when they had decided to go into town, Dell was saucy 
 about something and left behind in Cassy's charge. 
 She had not been there since the day of her first 
 coming. 
 
 She sat on the porch with a double portion of French 
 verbs that were seasoned with bitter tears ; the droning 
 hum of the bees, and the slowness, but alas not the sweet- 
 ness of honey ; the soft winds that relaxed every pulse, and 
 made her feel weak and drowsy until her mind wandered 
 with no purpose or energy. What made life seem such 
 a burden? Would she ever be a glad, bright girl again, 
 pleased with everything ? 
 
 Some one came up the path on horseback. She rec- 
 ognized the thin gentlemanly figure, the long, pale, pic- 
 ture-like face, though this warm afternoon it had a tint 
 of color. She had only seen Mr. Whittingham twice 
 since the journey, and then merely to speak. Now she 
 ran down the steps eagerly, glad of anything to break 
 her sombre thoughts.
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 137 
 
 " Ah," he said, dismounting and giving her his hand. 
 41 Are you quite well ? You look rather pale." 
 
 " Do I ? Well, I am always too red. And I hope I 
 shall grow thin some time." 
 
 He smiled. " Now, / am hoping to grow stouter." 
 
 " It would improve you," she said, with the frank di- 
 rectness of a child, that amused him greatly. "They 
 are all out," she announced as Julius led his horse 
 away. 
 
 "They ? " inquiringly. 
 
 " Miss Hendricks did you know I had a governess ? 
 And Miss Sherburne. They have gone into town." 
 
 " Yes " in answer to her first query. " Do you make 
 life a burthen to her ? It is about another governess that 
 I have come. We that is, my sister heard of an oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 " I want to go to school. Are you really my guardian, 
 and can't you do " hesitating. 
 
 " My powers are somewhat limited. Still, I have pro- 
 posed the school. Your aunt objects." 
 
 " I should think she would be glad to get rid of me. 
 Do you know they all hate to have me here? " 
 
 He stared in amazement. "You should not make 
 such an assertion," he said gravely. 
 
 She laughed defiantly. "Oh, but I know." Then 
 her brow knit thoughtfully. " Will you please tell me 
 if Miss Sherburne must live here always even when I 
 am a woman ? " 
 
 " She has what is termed a life right in the place. It 
 was an old-fashioned way of eking out a daughter's por- 
 tion. So, of course, she can live here as long as she 
 chooses. And she has never known any other home. 
 You surely wouldn't want to turn her out if you 
 could." 
 
 Put in that light, Dell felt that she could not even turn 
 an animal out homeless.
 
 138 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " I hope you are getting quite domesticated. Do you 
 not like it here? " 
 
 " No, I don't," replied Dell frankly. 
 
 " But, at least 
 
 " And when I am grown, I shall go away. I will not 
 stay with her. How rich am I ? Leonard said I was 
 the richest girl in the county." 
 
 " You will be rich enough to go anywhere. But I 
 hope then you will desire to remain." This was rather 
 uncomfortable ground. He picked up her book and 
 asked if she liked to study. 
 
 "Sometimes," she answered laconically, as her eyes 
 followed the swift, brilliant dazzle of a fire bird as he cut 
 the air. Ah if she had wings. Somewhere she had 
 read : 
 
 I would I were a bird or bee, 
 Or anything that I am not, 
 
 and she elected to be the bird. 
 
 Such a soft, wistful tenderness flooded her eyes. He 
 remarked then how clear and beautiful they were. He 
 had seen them under rather wretched auspices, swollen 
 with weeping and set in red rims, with flushed cheeks 
 beneath them. Had she improved? She was not so 
 very plain. Her complexion was fine, rather pale now, 
 and her mouth dimpled at the corners very easily. 
 
 " About the governess ; do you like her ? " 
 
 "I suppose she is well enough. But Miss Burtis is 
 nicer, only I'd rather have kersM to myself." 
 
 " Well, you can have this one all to yourself. She is 
 very accomplished, a Southern woman. A friend who 
 has been visiting us felt quite certain Miss Sherburne 
 would be pleased with her. And if you cannot go to 
 school you zfiV/try to be content? " 
 
 " I am homesick, always. There is no one to love me.
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 139 
 
 They tolerate me because they must, but they hate to 
 have me here. And Leonard said I had taken the place 
 away from him 
 
 " Had he no better sense than that?" Mr. Whitting- 
 ham's placid temper was roused. "It never was his. 
 If you had died, if you should die now, there is a family 
 agreement that he shall have it. But you will live and 
 enjoy it." 
 
 " I haven't cared, sometimes, but I want to, now. 
 And in eight years I shall be free and do just as I like. 
 But oh, the months are so long. I never knew such 
 weary days," and her voice saddened pathetically. 
 
 He felt extremely sorry for her. He was unused to 
 girls, and he realized dimly how great the change must 
 have been to her. Down in his secret heart he thought 
 it would have been wiser to allow her to correspond with 
 her old friends. To be cut off from all she had enjoyed 
 must be hard indeed. There was a long silence. He 
 did not want to be drawn into any unfavorable comment, 
 but wondered what he could say to comfort her. Her 
 thoughts had run off into another channel. In a rather 
 slow, speculative way she said half-inquiringly : "If 
 there is so much money it seems as if I might have a 
 little now." 
 
 " Does not your aunt give you some pocket money ? " 
 
 " No. Papa Murray did, when we had been good. 
 And I used to earn some. Then we could buy what we 
 liked with that money." 
 
 "What would you buy now?" he asked rather 
 jocosely. 
 
 " I can't just tell. Only I would like to have some. I 
 could save it for Christmas." 
 
 " So you could, so you could. I must arrange with 
 Miss Sherburne for you to have an allowance." 
 
 " But she would keep that," returned Dell gloomily. 
 " It wouldn't be any pleasure to me."
 
 140 SHERBURNE HOUSE 
 
 " You couldn't tell me of anything you would like to 
 buy? I might bring it to you." 
 
 " No," Dell answered with a sigh. 
 
 " Well, how much would you like ? " 
 
 Dell's heart leaped up to her throat, and her ears rang 
 as if she were miles under the sea. 
 
 " You don't really mean Then Dell's conscience 
 smote her. After all was she not a miserable, deceitful 
 little wretch ? No, he must not give it to hei'. Her tongue 
 seemed stiff. There was a constriction in her throat ; a 
 strange flutter through her pulses. 
 
 Her emotion touched him. He took out his wallet and 
 fingered the bills. 
 
 V I am going to trust you to do nothing harmful to 
 yourself," he said gravely, " nothing that will get either 
 of us into trouble," and he smiled a little. " It may be 
 a pleasure to have it when you are going somewhere. 
 And if it doesn't demoralize you, another time I may try 
 it again." 
 
 The bill fluttered to her lap. 
 
 "Oh, thank you! Thank you, a thousand times. I 
 shall keep it until Christmas, maybe." 
 
 Just then the carriage, with the two ladies, wound 
 around the drive. Dell sat in a sort of speechless' 
 amazement, happy beyond measure, then with a secret 
 sense of guilt. Her hand closed over it. Five dollars, 
 all her own ! 
 
 Mr. Whittingham rose and went down to meet the 
 ladies, Dell picked up her book and vanished through the 
 hall, flying up to her own room. Oh, she cmt/dget enough 
 some time by Christmas, perhaps. If she could walk 
 into the old home on Christmas Eve ! Ah, she could 
 fancy the shout of joy. 
 
 Cassy came up with Miss Sherburne's mantle. Miss 
 Hendricks looked in. 
 
 " How is the French? " she asked.
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 141 
 
 " I have been talking to Mr. Wbittingham, but I will 
 finish it in a few moments. Shall I come to the school- 
 room ? " 
 
 " No, you will find me on the side porch with my 
 book. I wish you could have gone with us it was very 
 entertaining. And, Miss Lyndell, if you only had a 
 little more tact, you would get on so much better with 
 your aunt." 
 
 Dell made no reply. She was overjoyed with the 
 result of her enforced stay at home. But what could she 
 do with her precious money ? She had kept her two 
 dollars in various places, but now that it had increased 
 she must render it doubly safe, for its loss would be irrep- 
 arable. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham meanwhile was discussing Mrs. Fan- 
 shawe. She had been spending the summer abroad, 
 having charge of some young ladies, and would reach 
 home about the middle of September. Her husband 
 had been killed in the war. She was about thirty, highly 
 accomplished, and desired an engagement in a family 
 of growing girls. As he had relatives in Washington, she 
 preferred to be as near them as possible. 
 
 After Mr. Whittingham had performed his duty to 
 Mrs. Fanshawe and his sister's conscience, he made a 
 very earnest plea that Lyndell should be sent away to 
 school. 
 
 " No school that we could approve would keep her 
 three months," said Miss Sherburne contemptuously. 
 " She would run away and find refuge with the Murray s, 
 or carry on a clandestine correspondence with them, such 
 as she attempted here. No, I shall do my whole duty by 
 her, until that is made impossible for me. She is not fit 
 to be trusted out of one's sight." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham hated to argue with a lady, and 
 he felt assured that he could not move Miss Sher- 
 burne.
 
 142 SHEEBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " I suppose you will be going away presently. You 
 surely do not mean to keep her to lessons all summer ? " 
 
 " She has run wild long enough. Oh, a few lessons 
 will not hurt her. Her health is of the rudest sort. It 
 will take years of discipline to tone her down. I sincerely 
 hope she has not been complaining to you ? " 
 
 " Indeed, she has not," answered the gentleman 
 warmly. Then he rose. 
 
 " You will surely remain to supper? ' 
 
 " Not this evening, my dear madam. I promised it to 
 Mrs. Kirby and her friends. And shall I say you will 
 come over presently ? " 
 
 " In a day or two, yes. And I am indebted to her and 
 to you for this thoughtfulness." 
 
 "You will always find me ready to do whatever is for 
 the best," said he graciously. 
 
 Miss Sherburne went upstairs when her visitor had 
 gone, firmly resolved to keep Dell under her own eye. 
 It was so great a trial it wore the aspect of a virtue. 
 
 Dell's lesson was such a triumph that Miss Hendricks 
 sent her out for exercise. She stationed herself on the 
 side porch, as she had orders not to lose sight of her. 
 Perhaps she fell into a reverie, perhaps she had no 
 antipathy to violent exercise. For Dell suddenly gave 
 way to an olden mood. She laughed, she ran, she even 
 indulged in a surreptitious whistle. She swung her arms 
 and gave a tremendous flying leap. Then a wild breezy 
 rush, until her arms seemed wings and her feet light as 
 thistle down. Oh, it was glorious! 
 
 Miss Sherburne glanced from her window. Was that 
 Dell, careering round like a wild Indian when she had 
 been forbidden to indulge in such pastimes ! 
 
 " Miss Hendricks," she said sharply, "will you go and 
 call Miss Lyndell ! One would think she had been 
 brought up among savages by her antics down there in 
 the grass. ' '
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 143 
 
 Miss Hendricks walked away slowly, a half smile 
 curving her lips. 
 
 " We shouldn't suit in 'the long run,' " she thought. 
 "A child with that sort of physique needs vigorous exer- 
 cise if you have no gymnasium. How fussy people do 
 grow ! At her time of life one should have nothing to do 
 with children." 
 
 " You have made yourself red in the face, Miss Dell, 
 and oh, what a Medusa head ! 
 
 Dell shook her tawny mane. "It doesn't really 
 resemble snakes," and she laughed. "How curious 
 and delightful mythology is! But I've had such a good 
 time ! ' ' 
 
 " And your aunt saw you." 
 
 "Who cares! Come down to the brook, and I'll 
 bathe my face and have a jump over. Oh, do ! " 
 
 She did not resist the eager voice. Dell had her 
 jump four of them, and luckily did not splash in. She 
 wiped her face on her handkerchief, and the two walked 
 decorously back. 
 
 " I am ashamed of you," declared Miss Sherburne, 
 who stood awaiting them. " Sit down here, and do not 
 stir until supper time." 
 
 Dell dreamed over the episode of the afternoon. Was 
 it really true ? 
 
 The further tidings concerning Mrs. Fanshawe were 
 eminently satisfactory. 
 
 "I shouldn't keep such a person as this Miss Hen- 
 dricks very long, even if I .could. She has no sort of 
 style, though she is an excellent teacher. And Miss 
 Lyndell will need a great deal of training to make her 
 presentable." 
 
 " How good you are to take so much pains with her," 
 sighed Mrs. Kirby softly. 
 
 Miss Sherburne had promised to spend a week with 
 the Beaumanoirs. She also wanted to go up to Thila-
 
 144 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 delphia and do some autumnal shopping. Of course 
 Dell would run wild while she was gone, but she really 
 would not dare trust her alone with Gassy. Miss Hen- 
 dricks was to go the last of August. Her own school 
 opened the loth of September. 
 
 Dell heard the tidings with outward gravity, but the 
 wildest kind of a heart-beat. She really was on her best 
 behavior for two days. If she had suspected that Miss 
 Sherburne almost decided to take her ! But she had so 
 exaggerated Dell's boisterous ways to herself that she 
 felt she could not endure the mortification. 
 
 There were charges innumerable, " shall nots " 
 enough to fill twenty decalogues. But at last she went, 
 with a reluctant step and a severe good-bye. She needed 
 the change sorely her nerves had been so rasped and 
 worn. 
 
 There was no difference in the lessons or the music 
 practices. But there was a walk or a drive every day. 
 Dell thought she liked the walks best. And on Saturday 
 they followed the path through the woods in a northeast- 
 erly direction. The creek, which was but a mere wind- 
 ing thread down by the house, widened out here, and in 
 one place made a sedgy pond full of watery growths. 
 How still and cool it was ! 
 
 " Where does Sherburne end? " asked Miss Hendricks, 
 glancing sedately around. 
 
 " Ever so far over. There is a road that goes on to 
 Croziers a station. The truck wagons use it, I believe. 
 And there is a little sort of hamlet." 
 
 " Of poor whites, I suppose. They live on the outside 
 boundaries. And more must be over to the west there." 
 
 They asked Cassy that evening. "The path," she 
 said, " took one over to the road. Just below, another 
 branched off, and that one led to Croziers. There were 
 a number of stations before you readied Staunton, \\liere 
 the branch connected with the main line to Washington."
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 145 
 
 " I have never been farther south than Washington 
 until now," said Miss Hendricks. "A place like this 
 does well enough in summer, but I like the stir and en- 
 terprise of Northern cities. I never want to live very 
 far from New York." 
 
 Dell sighed. Ah, if she were only going with Miss 
 Hendricks. 
 
 The next day she studied up a railroad guide. Would 
 she dare the walk on a cold winter day ? But maybe it 
 would take her a year to get enough money. Still it 
 was a delightful air-castle. And though she would 
 surely be brought back, the flight captivated her fancy, 
 that had so few real pleasures to feed upon. 
 
 Didn't people sometimes pray for things they wanted 
 very much? She did not stop to consider the propriety 
 of praying for a thing she knew was not quite right. She 
 thought over the miracles. People prayed for the very 
 things they desired. Did they pray to be made better? 
 Was it not for sight, and life, and relief from lameness, 
 and physical good ? And in story books when people 
 were in the last extremity of starvation or trouble or sor- 
 row they prayed for help or money, the thing they most 
 needed. 
 
 " And I am starving to see my dear Mamma Murray," 
 she cried softly. " One's heart may starve as well as 
 one's body. And no one has offered me a crumb of love 
 since I have been at Sherburne. It can't really be 
 wrong to pray for it. And if it is why God won't send 
 it," she concluded hopefully. 
 
 How bright and joyous Dell had grown. Always a 
 smile and a cheerful word. Cassy began to doubt Miss 
 Sherburne's method of such sharp repression. She was 
 kindly indulgent to the Beaumanoir children, and indeed 
 all the others. 
 
 " We can have one more walk," said Miss Hendricks 
 on Monday. "To-morrow your aunt will be home.
 
 146 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 You deserve a good deal of praise for your efforts at the 
 French, and you do improve in fingering. You must 
 try harder for the things you do not like. I have found 
 you a much brighter pupil than I expected. I hope your 
 new" governess will take a decided stand in some mat- 
 ters ; I should if I were going to stay." 
 
 Dell thrilled at the words of praise. 
 
 " Oh, I wish you were," she cried. 
 
 " I should quarrel with Miss Sherburne, and be dis- 
 missed. There, go for your hat." 
 
 Their walk was in a southerly direction this time. The 
 ground rose gradually there was a bit of mountainous 
 ledge. From here you could see the river winding its 
 placid length in silvery curves ; the great bay over east- 
 ward, the dim suggestion further beyond of sky and 
 ocean meeting. All the undulating country spread out 
 like a panorama. Famous battlefields, cities arising 
 from their ruin, or new ones coming into existence, pros- 
 perity where once there had been havoc and desolation. 
 
 Dell ranged like a deer. She had two rather amusing 
 tumbles, and tore her gown. Miss Hendricks unbent 
 from her severe dignity, for the child's gayety was in- 
 fectious. Surely Miss Sherburne' s method was not a 
 wise one for such a temperament. She began to pity 
 Dell sincerely. 
 
 " I don't know what your aunt would say to see you 
 now," and Miss Hendricks gave an amused laugh. Her 
 hair was blown about, her face and hands stained by 
 berry gathering and eating, and her eyes were brilliant 
 with enjoyment. 
 
 Even after they reached home she could not subside 
 into decorum. "She will have enough of it after to- 
 morrow," thought the governess. She did not check 
 Dell, as she went dancing up and down the paths. 
 There was no one to be disturbed by her wild vagaries. 
 
 The child went hopping along, first on one foot then
 
 THE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS OF YOUTH. 147 
 
 on the other until presently she threw herself on the soft 
 turf that was rich with fallen leaves. A little tuft of 
 something attracted her attention. Two or three brown- 
 red leaves clustered together like a tulip cup. A loose 
 greenish centre stood up waving its edges faintly in the 
 breeze. Of course it wasn't a flower, but it was curious. 
 She rose to inspect it. She had examined so many 
 strange things this afternoon. No, it was not a half dead 
 blossom. The leaves had whirled around until their 
 stems were caught together. Tangled with them was 
 her very heart stood still. Yes, it really was money. 
 Three five dollar greenbacks. Was this a miracle? 
 Had her prayer been answered ? 
 
 Dell dropped down on the grass again, breathless, 
 overcome by a strange bewildering emotion. Yes, they 
 were really bills. The outside one felt soft and wet, as 
 it must have been in the dew overnight. Had it lain 
 there all day ? How mysterious that she should have seen 
 it just now, when she had passed a dozen times that 
 way. 
 
 " .Miss Lyndell," called a voice. 
 
 Dell rose. Her limbs trembled under her, and she 
 felt dazed. Could she meet the glance of any eyes? 
 
 "You have been out long enough," said Miss Hen- 
 dricks. " I wonder that you can stand. You will be as 
 stiff as a post in the morning. And you are just in the 
 state to take a little cold. I should be sorry to have you 
 suffer by my over-indulgence." 
 
 " I am a little tired," said Dell faintly. 
 
 " Cassy had better give you a bath and put you to 
 bed. There, good-night." 
 
 Dell drew a long breath. She would feel better in 
 the dark with her secret. Every nerve was quivering. 
 
 She managed to slip the money under the pillow be- 
 fore Cassy entered. 
 
 "Miss Dell, what is the matter with you?" the
 
 148 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 woman said presently. " You act as if you were be- 
 witched. You have run too'much. I am afraid you do 
 need Miss Sherburne's oversight." 
 
 Dell endeavored to get herself under better control. 
 But she was glad to bury her flushed face deep in the 
 pillow. How wonderful that she and no one else had 
 seen the money. But she soon fell asleep, and no 
 thought of it haunted her dreams. Physical fatigue was 
 a refreshing draught.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS. 
 
 DELL awoke with a peculiar impression. She seemed 
 to have been wandering in some strange fairyland where 
 all her wishes were gratified, where she was loved and 
 caressed. The vague remembrance puzzled her. She 
 sat straight up in bed and glanced questioningly at the 
 opposite wall. 
 
 Was it a dream ? She thrust her hand under the pil- 
 low. There was the roll three bills, rather musty- 
 smelling and faded by the damp. The winds might 
 have blown them about anywhere, the rains beaten 
 them to a pulp under continued exposure. It was 
 quite a miracle that her eyes had been directed toward 
 them. 
 
 She sprang out of bed and thrust them in the cover 
 of a book. None too soon, for Cassy entered to perform 
 her toilette. offices. 
 
 "To-day Miss Sherburne comes home," she ex- 
 claimed. " And oh, Miss Dell, I only hope matters will 
 go smoothly." 
 
 Dell laughed. She was so light-hearted. Some time 
 after breakfast Miss Hendricks was hunting around in a 
 flurried sort of fashion. "Oh," cried Dell in sudden 
 agitation, " what have you lost?" Her heart sank like 
 lead. Her beautiful miracle vanished. She struggled 
 heroically to confess not merely that she had found the 
 money, but that she had been base enough not to return 
 it instantly. 
 
 " My paper knife. I used it in the magazine, I am 
 149
 
 150 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 sure. I wonder where I can have mislaid it. I hate 
 slipshod carelessness quite as much as Miss Sher- 
 burne." 
 
 " Oh, is that all ? " Dell tried to collect her scattered 
 wits. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Lyndell, I am glad to say that is all. I do 
 not wish to fall in Miss Sherburne's estimation for so 
 small a thing as that. And it was a gift from one of my 
 pupils." 
 
 " Oh, I remember ! " Dell ran swiftly downstairs. 
 Yes, there it lay with some pamphlet music. Then it 
 was not the money ! Was she glad or sorry ? There 
 was a great confusion in her mind. Perhaps she .would 
 learn to whom it belonged, and be able to return it. 
 
 " Here is your cutter. You left it on the piano," she 
 said, returning quietly. 
 
 " Oh, yes. Thank you. I might have remembered." 
 
 Dell stood there in a curious mood. She ought to 
 tell some one about the money. Her conscience was 
 uneasy. 
 
 " There, I have all my small belongings," with a sigh 
 of relief. "And now it is school time. Get your 
 French ; I'll give you a day in, as you are so fond of 
 study," and Miss Hendricks laughed. 
 
 Dell was relieved to have something to do. Her brain 
 was in a ferment, her temples throbbed, and she lost her 
 recent steadiness. 
 
 " You ran too hard yesterday. Well, you shall be ex- 
 cused a little. I shall not be rigorous on my last day." 
 
 "If I could only get the little quips and quirls of 
 sound," said Dell, with rather rueful longing. 
 
 "You have done unusually well. You cannot get it 
 all in six weeks some girls could not acquire it in six 
 years. I am afraid you have been kept rather too close, 
 but as your new governess cannot come immediately, 
 you will have a little rest. I should like to hear from
 
 , JIEIXGIXG A DREAM TO PASS. 151 
 
 you, but I am afraid your aunt would hardly allow a cor- 
 respondence. Still I shall often think of you, and in 
 some future time you may revisit New York. I am likely 
 to remain in Brooklyn for years to come ; so, if you have 
 an opportunity, hunt me up. I have had a very inter- 
 esting six weeks. And I shall not preach you any high 
 moral sermons. When matters go hard with you, have 
 patience. If you live, and you seem to give every indi- 
 cation of that now, you have an enviable future before 
 you. Try your utmost to fit yourself for it." 
 
 " I thank you for a great deal of oh, what shall I 
 say ? " and Dell gave a perplexed smile. 
 
 "Appreciation," returned Miss Hendricks decisively. 
 " There are a great many people who still think no good 
 can come out of Nazareth that an opinion different from 
 theirs must be wrong. But the world is wide, and there 
 is room for no end of opinions. It will not injure you to 
 say that you are above the average in scholarship, ac- 
 cording to modern methods. I am afraid you will never 
 be a musical prodigy, but you may learn to play well. 
 I do not see any reason why you may not become a fine 
 linguist. An old Frenchman said, ' Everything comes 
 to him who waits ' I say to the one who works and 
 waits. There, I have finished," and she smiled. 
 
 Dell threw her arms around Miss Hendricks' neck. 
 " I like you so much," she cried. " I am so sorry you 
 are going. Oh, I do wish you could stay." 
 
 "I should not agree with your aunt," she returned 
 dryly. " Now you may go out for a little walk, or 
 perhaps it would be quite as well to swing in the 
 hammock." 
 
 There were tears in Dell's eyes as she went. Oh, if 
 Miss Sherburne was going to stay away a month ! 
 
 As Dell swung in the green sunlighted atmosphere her 
 thoughts recurred to the money. Some one had lost it. 
 The servants and laborers seldom came around to the
 
 152 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 front, or crossed the woods in that direction, since they 
 had no real business. If the Beaumanoir family were at 
 home, there would be coming and going. If Julius or 
 Gassy had lost such a sum, or Cato, there must have 
 been an inquiry. 
 
 She had a misgiving that it was her duty to announce 
 her finding of it. Yet she had heard Miss Sherburne 
 express such sweeping views of the untruth and dishon- 
 esty of the former slaves that she could not be sure of 
 the rightful owner. Then she thought herself that it must 
 have lain some time in the dews and damp. Suppose 
 Miss Sherburne had dropped it the day she went away ? 
 She would miss it, of course. It would be better to wait, 
 and Dell resolved if she heard any inquiry she would 
 return the money to the spot where she had first seen it, 
 and find it anew in the presence of Cassy. That would 
 free her from suspicion. 
 
 Julius went after Miss Sherburne. Miss Hendricks and 
 Dell sat on the veranda as she drove up and alighted. 
 She greeted the governess, then she turned to Dell : 
 
 " I am gratified to find you in decent and respectable 
 order," she began sharply. " I have half-believed you 
 would commit some wild and terrible escapade in my 
 absence. I hope Miss Hendricks can give a passable 
 account of you." 
 
 Dell flushed angrily. Even Miss Hendricks was 
 roused to a sort of indignation at the injustice. 
 
 " I can give a very good account of her," she an- 
 swered decisively. " And I should be glad always to 
 have pupils who would give one as much credit and as 
 little trouble as Miss Lyndell." 
 
 Miss Sherburne swept through the hall in her stately, 
 dignified fashion, rather amazed at a reply that to her 
 mind savored of impertinence. 
 
 "That woman is the perfect embodiment of prejudice 
 and injustice. I do sincerely pity you, Lyndell Slier-
 
 BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS. 153 
 
 burne," Miss Hendricks said energetically. "I like to 
 see fair play." 
 
 Dell sat in a quivering protest. She was continually 
 suspected of escapades then ! Well, she had been nurs- 
 ing one that now took definite shape. She hoped with 
 an eagerness that was almost prayer that no one would 
 make inquiries about the money. If she waited a fort- 
 night she could be quite sure. Sitting there with the 
 fragrant air wandering about her temples and gently lift- 
 ing the rings of soft hair like a caress, watching the sun- 
 shine as it crept in and out of the dark pines and lighter 
 beeches, ash, and maple, even the beauty of the scene 
 failed to comfort her. It was her home, yet it would 
 always be made bitter to her while Miss Sherburne lived. 
 Never had she experienced such an aversion to any one. 
 Miss Hendricks' plain but sympathetic face looked 
 beautiful to her. 
 
 Certainly the atmosphere of the place was changed. 
 Miss Hendricks rather resented some strictures. She 
 could afford to now, since she was going to-morrow, 
 and she positively enjoyed one or two cutting replies. 
 
 Late in the afternoon she was called into the library. 
 Dell sat out on the veranda and could see the picture 
 through the open window. 
 
 " I have made out your account for the six weeks' 
 tuition," began Miss Sherburne. "Will you look it over 
 and satisfy yourself of its correctness?" 
 
 Miss Hendricks did so and answered affirmatively, 
 with a serene dignity. 
 
 " Here is your money. Sign this receipt, please. I 
 always do business in a business-like manner, and Miss 
 Lyndell's expenses have to be accounted for to her 
 guardians." 
 
 Miss Sherburne said this very stiffly and expressed no 
 sort of approval or obligation. 
 
 Miss Hendricks signed the receipt, counted her money,
 
 154 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 and acknowledged the obligation with a grave inclination 
 of the head. 
 
 " I trust you will get suited without any trouble," she 
 ventured. " I do not consider the position at all arduous. 
 Miss Dell i's an excellent scholar." 
 
 "I should expect something quite different for a per- 
 manency," was the caustic rejoinder. 
 
 Then Miss Sherburne counted her own money and 
 made a memorandum. Surely she had not lost any, com- 
 mented Dell inwardly. It would have been announced 
 by this time. The lady locked her desk and came out 
 on the porch. 
 
 "Do sit still!" she said fretfully to Dell. "You 
 fidget and twist, and drop into such awkward positions. 
 I do wonder whether you will ever be like ordinarily well- 
 behaved girls ! Lady-like and refined I never expect to 
 see you." 
 
 Dell flushed and her lips trembled with an angry 
 reply, but she did not utter it. She had philosophy 
 enough to understand that it would only make matters 
 worse. She sat stiffly upright, and watched the birds 
 flitting from tree to tree and calling their mates. Ah, 
 if she could fly away some day. There was an uneasy 
 consciousness that she had no right to use the money, 
 even if she kept it until its rightful owner could be heard 
 from. And yet she allowed herself to dream of glowing 
 possibilities that lulled her conscience. 
 
 The evening wore away at length. Ah, how dreary 
 and tiresome it was with its sudden lack of buoyancy, 
 its grim, prison-like aspect, its sense of being chained 
 and suspected of what? Dell had an uncomfortable 
 feeling of wrong. There was nothing actively secretive 
 in her nature. 
 
 " Cassy," she said that evening, when she was being 
 put to bed, "did Miss Sherburne find everything right, 
 nothing lost or gone astray ? "
 
 BSIXGIXG A DREAM TO PASS. 155 
 
 " I don't know what could go astray, Miss Dell, except 
 you," and Gassy gave a short laugh. Maum Dinah is 
 as sharp as Missus herself, when she's away. And I'm 
 sure I have a feeling that her eyes are always on me. 
 She could tell in the dark if anything went wrong. You 
 have had a little easier time but perhaps it would be as 
 well to keep that to yourself." 
 
 Dell resolved to follow the advice in all things. She 
 felt confident now that the money was not Miss Sher- 
 burne's, and somehow her conscience was easier. 
 
 There was a soft summer rain the next morning, but 
 Miss Hendricks bade them good-bye and started on her 
 journey. However, there was to be no holiday for poor 
 Dell. She had to bring her books to Miss Sherburne's 
 room and go over the week's lessons. There was some 
 carping that exasperated Dell. 
 
 Indeed, in the days that followed, Dell lost all she had 
 gained under Miss Hendricks' steady discipline, that was 
 equitable, if not indulgent. The continual strictures 
 made her rebellious and saucy. She was kept in her 
 room and allowed no walks, no diversions. Another 
 punishment was to read aloud from a book of sermons. 
 In her strenuous efforts to reduce the vigorous girl to a 
 sort of languid, lady-like propriety, Miss Sherburne lost 
 sight of a proper regard for health. Dell began to have 
 wild, throbbing headaches that reacted upon her temper ; 
 her nerves were distraught to a point beyond endur- 
 ance. 
 
 It was extremely trying for Miss Sherburne as well. 
 A sense of baffled authority pervaded her. She brooded 
 over some sort of punishment that should strike terror to 
 the heart of the offender. She saw in her an unruly, 
 defiant being with no reverence for the traditions that 
 had governed tier life, no spirit of meek obedience such 
 as she sought to exact. She did not order herself lowly 
 and reverently to her betters. The elder's creed was.
 
 156 SHERBURXE HOUSE. 
 
 that all young natures should be plastic in the hands of 
 those in authority over them. There was one unalter- 
 ably right method, the training of good birth and good 
 society, and yet, had she considered her past experience 
 of people, she must have admitted even that did not al- 
 \\ays bring about the proper result. All of Dell's past 
 had been wrong, and she believed she was doing her 
 duty in trying to uproot it. 
 
 If Lyndell had possessed a more facile nature, a com- 
 pliant sort of yielding under adverse circumstances, her 
 path would have been less thorny. But her face too 
 often showed that she obeyed or desisted from sheer 
 necessity. As soon as she dared, she would throw off 
 the restraint. Her covert defiance seemed to say " I 
 .am only biding my time." 
 
 Yet Miss Sherburne wrongly translated it. When this 
 audacious rebel threw down her arms and capitulated, 
 she would show her gentleness and mercy, not before. 
 And Dell had settled to the sad consciousness that noth- 
 ing she could do would please. She was rebellious and 
 exasperating to the last degree. And when Miss 
 Sherburne found that music practices could be turned into 
 punishment, she added them, to Dell's infinite disgust. 
 
 On Thursday two friends of Miss Sherburne's came 
 over to remain all night, and to be taken the next day to 
 the house of a mutual friend, whither Miss Sherburne 
 had planned to accompany them. The music was too 
 annoying, so Dell was sent to her room. This time she 
 had no book. Never in her life had any moments 
 seemed so long. Her head ached, her nerves were 
 wrought up to the tensest strain. She wanted to jump, 
 to scream, to defy everything and everybody. 
 
 " You will keep your room all day," announced Miss 
 Sherburne the following morning. " You are not to be 
 trusted an inch. Cassy will bring up your meals, and 
 ^ou will take double lessons in Latin and French."
 
 BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS. 157 
 
 Then Dell blazed up in a fire of passion. She 
 never remembered what she said, but it was a torrent 
 of pent-up resentment, bitter indignation, and a defiant 
 cry for freedom. 
 
 Miss Sherburne was utterly astounded. 
 
 "If you go on this way," she said severely, "you 
 will deserve to be sent to some reformatory. No school 
 could be found severe enough for such outrageous be- 
 havior. I want you to meditate on your shameful con- 
 duct to-day, and I hope to find you alive to some sense 
 of the enormity of it when I return. If not, I shall be 
 compelled to take more stringent measures than any I 
 have hitherto employed." 
 
 She shut and locked the door. Dell was in a fury of 
 passion. She kicked her books across the room, she 
 tore her sewing to bits, and then she burst into a wild 
 tempest of tears. What would be done to her ? She 
 might be kept a prisoner in some out-of-the-way room. 
 She had once overheard Maum Dinah telling a frightful 
 story of a slave girl being put in a dungeon where 
 the rats gnawed her. Dell sank down, overcome with 
 terror. 
 
 A little bread and water came up to her. The 
 negroes in the quarters were reveling in fruit of all kinds, 
 melons, great chunks of cake and she, mistress of it 
 all, condemned to prison fare ! It was cruel, past all en- 
 durance ! 
 
 Oh, why should she not escape ? There never could 
 be a better opportunity. Cassy had sat in the adjoining 
 room all the morning, but she would no doubt indulge in 
 a restful gossip with her dinner. 
 
 Dell sprang up. Yes, this was the golden moment. 
 She hurried off her dress and put on her fine grey cloth, 
 thrust a few articles into her satchel, buttoned her boots, 
 and stepped out on the veranda roof. No one was in 
 sight. Squirrels were exulting in their freedom, birds
 
 158 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 were carolling merry lays. They said come, come, 
 come ! in their gay invitation. 
 
 She swung cautiously down the thick ladder of wisteria 
 vine and reached the ground. Then she ran like a deer 
 over to the pine thicket, where she paused, out of breath 
 and frightened at the swift result of her- daring. Could 
 she get away ? In imagination she had taken the 
 journey many times. It was to walk over to Croziers 
 and intercept the train. And though her conscience 
 gave her a sharp twinge about spending money that was 
 not really hers, she resolved to ask Mr. Whittingham to 
 restore it fourfold, when the rightful owner could be 
 found. 
 
 When she had recovered her breath and steadied her 
 nerves, she began to walk on with rapid steps. Cassy 
 would hardly discover her absence until supper time. 
 She laughed as she thought of their consternation. 
 They would suppose she had run away, and search the 
 grounds she would be safe in a railroad train ! 
 
 Oh, how lovely and cool and green ! She drew in 
 great breaths of fragrance. Every pulse leaped with 
 joy. She even broke into a snatch of song, then she 
 bethought herself that some one might hear. She was 
 not afraid, but exulted in her new found liberty. She 
 reached the place where she and Miss Hendricks had 
 paused in their walk, and sat down to rest and consider. 
 Should she be able to find her way over to the Forks 
 where the roads diverged ? What if she should meet 
 some one ? What if she should go wrong ? 
 
 She rose and went on again, coming to a cart path 
 used for hauling logs. Some wood-choppers had been 
 at work, and her breath fluttered in frightened bounds. 
 She crossed this, crossed the creek on the narrow and 
 uneven bridge of rails, and followed the footpath 
 again. How gloomy it was! Not a bird's voice, only 
 the strident hum of insects. Would she ever get to the
 
 BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS. 159 
 
 end ? And oh, if she should be late for the train ! Terror 
 lent her speed. 
 
 Yes, here was the open road the boundary of 
 Sherburne. She climbed over the rude brushwood 
 fence. In the distance she saw an ox team standing 
 still, and she was thankful it was so far behind her. 
 Now she must go on to the Forks. 
 
 Dell was growing very tired. Her feet ached, and 
 she felt dreadfully hungry after her light luncheon. But 
 joy here was where the road branched off. 
 
 A woman in a faded sunbonnet was picking the last 
 shrunken berries by the wayside. 
 
 " Is this the road to Croziers ? " asked Dell. 
 
 The sunbonnet flapped affirmatively. 
 
 " Is it far ?" 
 
 " Mile or two." The woman stared stolidly. 
 
 Dell kept on. The road was dry and dusty, not as 
 pleasant as that through the woods. Oh, if she did not 
 reach the journey's end soon she should drop ! How 
 strange it was ! She did not get tired when she and the 
 Murrays went off for a day's tramp. 
 
 After an endless while it seemed to her, she came to 
 a straggling collection of houses. A ruinous old mill, a 
 sluggish stream of water and some barefooted children, 
 both black and white, playing about. Over yonder was 
 a low, rambling building with a kind of wide shed. A 
 dozen or two dogs lay around sunning themselves, and 
 several men were tilted back in rude chairs, smoking 
 pipes ; their hats pushed to the back of their heads so- 
 the flapping brims would not obstruct their view. A 
 dingy sign swung over a watering trough. There in 
 faded lettering was the name " Croziers." 
 
 Was this the station, Dell wondered ? Gaining cour- 
 age, she glanced around. The track ran above. There 
 was a wide platform and a small, rather official looking 
 place, that had the air of being more recent than the
 
 160 SHEBBURNE HOUSE 
 
 other dilapidated buildings. She walked over with an 
 air of assurance. A heap of negro boys lay half asleep, 
 an old white-haired, very much bent man, hit them with 
 his cane and elicited only growls. The door stood open. 
 The name was above it, " Croziers. " 
 
 Dell walked in. A rusted stove stood in the centre, 
 in what seemed a great pan of ashes. A bench ran 
 along one side and end, and there were two windows. 
 A middle-aged, extremely shambling sort of man sat 
 nodding, and an old negro woman was twisting herself 
 about in an odd fashion. Dell went over to her with the 
 desire of companionship. 
 
 " Has the train gone yet ? " she inquired, with a fear- 
 ful heart-beat. Everything looked as if it had settled 
 down for a lifetime. 
 
 " Ca'as dat wot yo' mean, honey? No, tank de 
 Lawd, I'se gwine in 'em if ebber I fin' dat ar quarter. 
 De good Lawd he shorely ain't gwine to 'sart me w'en 
 I'm bin prayin' stiddy fur dat ar money." Then she 
 shook her rusty old dress, took off a cotton bandanna 
 pinned round her shoulders, turned an old frayed silk 
 bag wrong side out on the bench. There was an old 
 pipe and some tobacco, an orange, a chunk of ginger- 
 bread, strings, odd buttons, two handkerchiefs, and a 
 pin cushion. 
 
 "Look a yeah, honey, yo' eyes younger'n mine, 
 see'f you cayn't fin' dat quarter rollin' roun' de floor. 
 Ef I don' gon' lost it plum square, er' ef dem plaguey 
 chillen steal it, den I ain't got 'nuff to go to my sis- 
 ter's. She's sick 'n' sent fer me. An' I trus' de 
 Lawd an' pray, an' dat ar quarter come like meracle. 
 An' now it's don' gon'. I had hit jes' afore I started." 
 
 A look of distress overspread her queer, wrinkled 
 face. There was a shrill whistle in the distance, and 
 the ticket slide opened with an explosive bang. She 
 looked up and began to cry.
 
 BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS. 161 
 
 "Get me a ticket to Junction," Dell said, "and get 
 your own out of my money." 
 
 The old woman shambled off. Dell watched her with 
 a misgiving, but she seemed to be competent. The 
 agent asked her a second time. 
 
 "A ticket fer Junction fer Missy. An' one to Pine 
 Creek." 
 
 She came back and dropped a handful of change in 
 Dell's lap as the train came steaming in. 
 
 " T'ank ye, Missy," she said quaveringly. " De good 
 Lawd he work noder meracle. He sen' you here jes' 
 like de raben to 'Lijah, when I done lost it.' Oh, Missy, 
 wenebber yo' want anything, yo' jes' pray, an' dough de 
 Lawd he sometimes try yo' faith, he bring it roun' right 
 by de end." 
 
 Dell smiled and dropped another quarter in her 
 gnarled and wrinkled hand. How curious that she 
 should have prayed and had a miracle happen to her ! 
 
 No one but Dell seemed in a hurry. All the faces 
 were strange, even if they did stare at her. The brake- 
 man helped her on. Just as a hoarse whistle rent the air 
 with its warning sound a negro came running down the 
 road waving his hand. Dell's heart stood still. What 
 if it was some one in search of her ! 
 
 They steamed out. The conductor came and punched 
 her ticket. Through woods and wastes until they 
 reached Pine Creek, where quite a number of passengers 
 entered. No one molested her. She bought two 
 suspicious looking " turnovers " from a boy, for she was 
 almost famished. Several stations were passed with 
 indifferent results, then they reached Junction. 
 
 Though more pretentious than Croziers, this was a 
 small place also. The station was very respectable. 
 Dell glanced around fearfully. Passengers were buying; 
 tickets. If she asked for a through ticket, would she not 
 be giving a clew by which she could be identified?
 
 162 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 While she was considering, her eye caught the figure 
 of a pale little woman who seemed to have more than 
 her hands full. A strong, fat baby was careering in her 
 thin arms, and making frantic snatches at her hat ; one 
 little girl clung tightly to her skirt, munching cookies ; a 
 boy was swinging a satchel in spite of her entreaties, 
 and she was trying to find her purse. Her strenuous en- 
 deavors were almost as bad as those of the poor old col- 
 ored woman. Something in the troubled face appealed 
 to Dell's ready sympathy. She went over to her. 
 
 " Let me take your baby a moment," she said, " until 
 you get your. ticket. And if you will get mine will the 
 train be in soon ? " 
 
 "Well, 'bout ten minutes now, I guess. When my 
 man left me here it was twenty. He druv over early 
 'cause he had to see a man at Perkinses. O Freddy, 
 don't," as Freddy grasped his mother's hat-brim with 
 both hands. "Ticket offis wa'nt open then, or he'd 'a' 
 got my ticket. Coin' North?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Dell, holding out her hands to 
 Freddy, who began to survey her hat with delight. 
 
 " I'm goin' to Philadelphy Camden. Jersey's my 
 native State. Freddy, do you want to go? I'm afraid 
 he'll tear you to pieces. He's an awful strong, boister- 
 ous child. O Georgy, don't swing that satchel so ; you'll 
 break the handle." 
 
 Freddy made a lurch, and Dell caught him laugh- 
 ingly. There was a sudden grave inquiring glance in 
 his mischievous eyes. 
 
 " I ain't been smart sence he was born, last March. 
 My man, he came down here three year ago and bought 
 a farm. But I don't like it. It's so far away from every- 
 thing. We had such a nice, snug little place just back 
 of Camden, 'n all my folks live 'bout there. I ain't been 
 home sence. And my man said I might as well go and 
 recruit a little, I was so weakly and dropped down. He
 
 BRINGING A DREAM TO PASS. lt>3 
 
 said I was homesick, and 1 guess I be." She gave a 
 wan smile and brought her purse to light. Then she 
 studied Dell inquiringly. 
 
 " Do you get a through ticket?" inquired Dell. 
 
 " No, only to Washington." 
 
 Dell settled Freddy half under one arm, and felt for 
 her money. 
 
 " Ho-.v handy you be with babies. Guess you're used 
 to them. Never mind wait till I come back," making 
 a gesture with her hand. 
 
 "Yes, we had a houseful," said Dell, saving her hat 
 from wreck. 
 
 The woman came back with the two tickets. 
 
 " I could tell by your face you liked babies," she said, 
 with a pleasant little cadence. " Is your pa's home 
 North or here? " 
 
 "Oh, at New York." 
 
 " Been visiting here?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Dell. 
 
 " And I'll lay a penny you're homesick too! Were 
 you away from all your folks? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Dell. " And I was awfully homesick." 
 
 The woman smiled sympathetically up in the bright 
 honest face as she was settling herself. Certainly if Dell 
 never looked pretty before, she looked so now to this 
 pale, worn-out little woman, who took her baby back 
 while Dell made her change correctly. 
 
 " Ah, you'll be glad enough to get back. I almost 
 wonder your folks dared let you start alone." 
 
 " There was no one to come," said Dell cautiously. 
 
 " Where did your relations live?" 
 
 " I started from Croziers." Dell felt rather on guard. 
 
 "Croziers? I don't believe I know where that is. 
 I've not been about much. Mamie was only a baby 
 when we came, and I've been considerable busy," with 
 a faint smile. " I've got two more at home. Jenny,
 
 164 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 she's fourteen, and Jack is "most twelve. Then I lost 
 one between. I've had such a good, faithful black cree- 
 tur all summer, used to be a slave ; and my man said 
 they could get along, and 1 must go and get well and 
 strong." 
 
 The train came in. Mamie had finished her cake, and 
 Dell took charge of her. They were all marshalled out 
 and marshalled in, and a seat was turned over to make 
 them more comfortable. 
 
 "Now I will take Freddy again and rest you," said 
 Dell, reaching out her hands. 
 
 " Oh, how good you be ! No one ever cuddles babies 
 that way if they don't love them. How many are there 
 at your house ? " 
 
 " Seven." 
 
 " And you the oldest? " she asked in surprise. 
 
 "I am not their child," returned Dell softly. "My 
 own mother died at their house, and they adopted me. 
 But I couldn't have had better parents." 
 
 "And you'll repay them. You have such a good 
 face, and such lovely eyes. And what kindly people 
 they must be." 
 
 "They are the best in all the world ;" and Dell felt 
 as if she could fly to them on the wings of the wind. 
 
 "You're a grateful girl, and you'll prove a comfort to 
 them. I'm so glad I've met you. Seems almost as if I 
 had Jenny. And we'll get a sleeper together." 
 
 " I shall be glad to have you take me in charge," re- 
 turned Dell, with smiling thankfulness. No one could 
 suspect her now. 
 
 Mamie was settled in the corner, and soon fell asleep. 
 Georgy clamored for some apples, and his mother 
 opened the satchel, offering Dell one. The motion of 
 the train had a soporific influence on Freddy, who ceased 
 his frantic efforts and began to drowse. 
 
 "It's been a hard day for me," said Mrs. Blake.
 
 BSIXGIXG A DREAM TO PASS. 165 
 
 " And I should ha' been 'most killed if I hadn't met you. 
 You're so handy and kind." 
 
 It was such a rare delight to be praised, to have any 
 one find personal sweetness in her. Her heart rose with 
 a glad throb. And then she should see her dear Mamma 
 Murray soon. She drew a long breath of relief that was 
 a joyous thanksgiving as well. All doubts came to an 
 end. 
 
 A rather gruff- looking man opposite surveyed the pic- 
 ture, studying the eyes that were like brown velvet, the 
 smiling mouth, the rare art of entertaining. Of course 
 she was the pale little woman's daughter. And he even 
 considered, in the years to come, what a wife and mother 
 she would make ! 
 
 "You had better let me take Freddy," Mrs. Blake 
 said. " He's so heavy." 
 
 " But I am stronger than you," Dell replied with 
 cheerful decision. 
 
 Mrs. Blake propped herself up with a shawl and leaned 
 her head back. " Would you mind if I took a five min- 
 utes' nap? " she besought. " The motion makes me so 
 drowsy." 
 
 " Oh, do go to sleep a little while," cried Dell earnestly. 
 41 You look so tired." 
 
 Freddy was already in Slumbertown. It was such a 
 delight to Dell to feel the plump, soft little form in her 
 arms. She grew happier every moment. Oh, if she 
 need never see Sherburne House again ! She put it 
 resolutely out of her mind. She would not even rejoice 
 in their dismay. 
 
 The soft darkness began to fall without, but they all 
 seemed so safe and comfortable. Dell came to a knowl- 
 edge that she was \voefully hungry. She hailed a fruit 
 vender with delight, and yet she was helpless. 
 
 The man opposite saw her dilemma with an amused 
 smile. Summoning the boy to him he purchased lib-
 
 166 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 erally, took a newspaper from his pocket and impro- 
 vised a sort of tray which he bade the boy take across to 
 her. 
 
 She blushed, but smiled over to him with a rare ad- 
 mission of honest thanks. She ate with infinite relish, for 
 the fruit was delicious. What a picnic it all was ! As 
 they plunged on through the darkness, Dell's heart was 
 as light and sunny as a summer morning. 
 
 They stopped at a station. The man rose, and 
 steadying himself in the aisle, dropped a magnificent 
 bunch of grapes in Dell's hand that caressed the sleep- 
 ing baby. 
 
 " You're a good da'ter," he said, with a kindly smile ; 
 then he stepped out in the darkness. 
 
 It seemed so natural to have people pleased and satis- 
 fied with her. Wasn't Sherburne House all a horrid 
 dream !
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN THE OLD HOME ONCE MORE. 
 
 MRS. BLAKE stirred and opened her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, what a splendid nap I've had," she exclaimed. 
 " And you've held that great heavy baby. How good 
 you are ! Give him to me now, I feel so nice and 
 rested. And oh, my dear, I've a lot of good chicken 
 sandwiches in the satchel. Why didn't you get 'em out, 
 Georgy ? ' ' 
 
 " We's all had somethin' better'n sand things," 
 returned Georgy, with disdain. "Grapes 'n pears 'n 
 peaches." 
 
 " Oh, you didn't buy 'em? " regretfully, to Dell. 
 
 Dell explained. Freddy began to squirm around and 
 cry. His mother took him after she had found the sand- 
 wiches, done up nicely in a napkin. She offered them to 
 Dell, who thought at first she could not eat any more, but 
 they tasted quite delicious. Miss Sherburne would have 
 been shocked at such voracity. 
 
 The agent came along to inquire about sleeping-car 
 berths. Mrs. Blake took in Dell with her family. Pres- 
 ently the train slowed up in the great capital. Georgy 
 shouldered the satchel manfully. Mamie was past rous- 
 ing. When they stood her ^n her feet she fell down in a 
 nerveless heap. 
 
 " If you will take the baby I'll manage her," said Mrs. 
 Blake. Freddy had fallen asleep again. "And be care- 
 ful of your money," she whispered. " My man he cau- 
 tioned me. There's such lots of pickpockets." 
 
 All was pushing, confusion, hurrying to and fro. Mrs. 
 167
 
 108 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Blake carried Mamie in her arms, and Dell followed 
 with the baby. Some one kindly piloted them, and at 
 length they found themselves in safety once more. 
 Mamie was laid in the berth, only giving a restless little 
 grunt. Georgy, half asleep, was packed in beside her. 
 Dell's berth was next to Mrs. Blake's. The poor child 
 suddenly began to realize her utter fatigue, and \vas 
 thankful to drop down anywhere. 
 
 It hardly seemed an hour when she was roused. 
 
 "My dear," said Mrs. Blake, "we're comin' into 
 Philadelphy. I'm gettin' the children ready. But I 
 wanted a sweet good-bye. It seems cruel to leave you. 
 But you'll soon be in New York, and I hope you'll meet 
 your friends all right. You've been such a help and 
 comfort to me. I never did take quite so to a stranger. 
 And I want you to send me a postal when you reach your 
 rna, so's I shan't feel worried. Just direct to Mrs. Joseph 
 Blake, Camden. And tell your ma, if you wasn't already 
 adopted I should want to take you myself. Jenny'd love 
 you so. My dear, will you kiss me good-bye ? " 
 
 Dell raised herself up and clasped her arms about 
 Mrs. Blake's neck. The little woman kissed her again 
 and again. Georgy gave her a good-bye. The porter 
 took Mamie in his arms, and Dell laid her head back on 
 her pillow with tears in her eyes. She felt very lone- 
 some now, whirling along in the greyness and tumult. 
 She did not sleep any more, and could not help wonder- 
 ing what had occurred at Sherburne House. Would 
 they really care if she had strayed off somewhere and 
 died? 
 
 She reached her destination without any mishaps, it 
 was quite daylight now. She was stiff and cold, and 
 shivered as she followed the throng on the boat, with an 
 apprehensive feeling that some one might pounce down 
 upon her. But New York seemed secure ground. There 
 was only the horse-car ride, and then .
 
 IN THE OLD HUME ONCE MORE, 1U9 
 
 Dell had an emotion that was not quite jubilant. 
 "What would papa Murray say? Had she really kept 
 her promise about trying? Yes, she had tried. She 
 would be sent back, of course. Could anything be done 
 with her like sending her to a reform school ? Oh, 
 surely the Hurrays would not allow that! Somehow 
 the brightness of the escapade was a little dulled. 
 
 She signaled the conductor at the well-remembered 
 corner. She walked two blocks ah, how natural it all 
 appeared. A great joy thrilled her, and her feet hardly 
 touched the sidewalk. She flew in at the gate, over the 
 porch how small it looked to her now ! opened the door, 
 and went straight to Mrs. Murray's arms. 
 
 "Sure," cried Mrs. Murray, "sure now, you're no 
 ghost nor banshee ! Oh, where did you come from ? 
 Did you drop out of the clouds ? O Dell, is it you for 
 certain, flesh and blood? I never thought they'd let you 
 come ! " 
 
 When Mrs. Murray was excited, there came the pret- 
 tiest and tenderest suggestion of brogue in her voice. 
 She kissed Dell again and again, then both began to cry 
 after the fashion of feminine nature. The children hud- 
 dled round, clamoring, pushing each other, and almost 
 rending Dell in pieces to snatch a hand or press a kiss 
 somewhere on her soft, wet face. 
 
 " And it never is you ! " 
 
 "Stick a pin in her," said Con, reaching for a great 
 shawl pin on the cushion. Then they all laughed, and 
 stared harder than ever. 
 
 The remnant of breakfast was still on the table, and 
 Dell felt that she needed some. So she struggled with 
 the tribe, managed to get off her hat and sack, and gave 
 ; big shiver as she stood before the stove. 
 
 " I'm hungry and cold all through. May I have some 
 coffee ? ' ' 
 
 "My darling, yes. Tessy, get a clean plate. Oh,
 
 170 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 children," with an amusingly helpless sound in her 
 voice, " don't eat up Dell." 
 
 " I feel thin now," said Dell laughingly. " I wouldn't 
 be good picking." They all brought her chairs, plates, 
 knives, and forks, as if she was to eat twenty meals in 
 succession. Mrs. Murray began to broil a bit of steak. 
 
 " Who came with you ? " she asked. " And how did 
 you ever persuade them ? But you always were a coax- 
 ing colleen. And we've wanted so to know how you got 
 on with your relative 1 She wrote a bitter note to Con 
 because I let little Con send a line in answer to your let- 
 ter. Ah, but she's a heart like a rock ! " 
 
 " She's the hatefulest person like the cruel people in 
 books ! She keeps me in my room, and sometimes I 
 don't get enough to eat. And all of Sherburne House is 
 mine ! " cried Dell, with a burst of deep indignation. " I 
 just ran away ! " 
 
 Mrs. Murray dropped the plate she had taken, and it 
 shivered to fragments. " Ran away! " she ejaculated. 
 " Ran away ! " cried the Greek chorus in every attitude, 
 every gradation of tone, every variety of expression. 
 
 " O Dell ! not alone ? " 
 
 " Yes, all alone." Dell had swallowed some hot cof- 
 fee, and felt braver. "Of course they will come after 
 me and take me back. I don't know what they will do 
 to me. And she struck me, the horrid old thing ! " Dell 
 flushed with the remembered indignity. " I don't be- 
 lieve they dare beat me or put me in prison. But I 
 should have gone crazy if I had not done something ! " 
 
 " Hurray ! " cried Con. " You're a lad after my own 
 heart. Will you look at the pluck of her! I'll bet on 
 you every time, Dell, and win." 
 
 "But" Mamma Murray was so amazed she could 
 only stare. " But you couldn't walk " 
 
 " I walked across the woods to a little station Croziers. 
 And I did think I should never get there. Then I took
 
 IN THE OLD HOME ONCE MORE. 171 
 
 the cars to Junction, to Washington, to Jersey City, and 
 came flying in this morning. A sweet, kind little 
 woman with some children took care of me. It all seems- 
 now like a ridiculous dream ! But it is so utterly lovely 
 to see you again." 
 
 " Dfil, they will go crazy when they miss you," and 
 Densie was terror-stricken at the thought. 
 
 Dell shrugged her shoulders and curled her lip. 
 "Not they," she cried. "They do not care enough 
 about me. They would all be glad to find me out in the 
 woods, dead." 
 
 Lyndell honestly considered that the truth. 
 
 " But oh, if it was Tessy," moaned Mrs. Murray, in 
 anguish. 
 
 "It wouldn't be Tessy nor Con, nor any one here. 
 Oh, Mamma Murray, no one would ever want to run- 
 away from you. You are the dearest and sweetest and 
 best woman in all the land ! Maybe God put so much 
 sweetness in you that there wasn't enough left to go 
 round. I've been starved for a sight of you. My soul 
 was empty and forlorn. I think if they had let me write, 
 it wouldn't have been quite so bad." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, my dear! " Densie wiped away some 
 tears, and kissed down in Morna's curly head. 
 
 "But, Dell, dear it cost something. And the 
 money ' 
 
 " It wasn't her money. And, mamma, when I get to 
 be a young lady, I shall be very, very rich. And you 
 shall all come and live with me." 
 
 "That's fair in you, Dell. Glad to see you're not 
 going back on your old friends," and Con executed 
 some wonderful double shuffles around the room. 
 
 Dell ate and talked. She told them how she had 
 climbed down the vine ; of the queer old black woman, 
 and Mrs. Blake and the babies. It was more wonderful 
 to them than a fairy story.
 
 172 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "Come, Con," said Mrs. Murray presently; "see 
 how the morning is going. And there's the yard to 
 tidy, the cellar to clean, and the errands. And, Tessy, 
 your sweeping." 
 
 " I'll help," cried Dell eagerly. " It'll be rare fun, 
 just like old times. Oh, I wish the fortune hadn't come, 
 and I was just Dell Murray again. It's so delightful to 
 be here." 
 
 " No, you look tired, and you must just sit still. And 
 you're not so rosy " studying her. " And oh, you are 
 thinner " 
 
 Dell laughed gayly. " My stoutness is a terrible 
 crime in Miss Sherburne's eyes, and she would rejoice to 
 hear that. The Beaumanoir girls are slim and yes, 
 really pretty. Then there are a lot of cousins I have not 
 seen ; some of them are abroad, but I believe I am the 
 only black sheep." 
 
 Tessy had piled up the dishes. Mrs. Murray began to 
 wash them. Dell kissed the younger ones rapturously 
 Laddie was still asleep upstairs. 
 
 She made a snatch at the towel. " I'll dry the dishes," 
 she declared. " It will be queer to do something really 
 useful once more. Down there, there are servants and 
 servants, a regiment of black people, and almost a vil- 
 lage called the quarters. And Cassy, Miss Sherburne's 
 maid, never sweeps, and her hands are soft as a lady's. 
 I am washed and dressed and have my boots buttoned 
 and my hair combed, and I never even dust my room." 
 
 "O Dell, you're a real lady," cried Tessy admir- 
 ingly. 
 
 " And I study French and music and Latin, but see 
 I can wipe dishes," and she held up a polished saucer. 
 "Get me an apron, Tess, I did not bring my trunk. 
 And somehow, Mamma Murray, I do not believe I was 
 meant for a great lady. I like work and folks and every- 
 day life. But if you could see the place ! There*'s miles
 
 IN THE OLD HOME ONCE MORE. 173 
 
 and miles of woods and farms and tobacco fields, and 
 such a great house ! Why you could put all of this dear 
 old home in the parlor." 
 
 Con was so enchanted that he really could not stir. 
 All the children listened big-eyed, and the smaller 
 ones opened-mouthed. It was so hard to go away and 
 leave their dear Dell. Who could be certain she would 
 not vanish ? Poor Densie Murray was almost distraught 
 with contending emotions. She trembled for the results 
 of the escapade that Dell treated so airily. 
 
 When the dishes were done Dell ran out of doors with 
 Con. The sun was shining brightly, and all the air had 
 grown warmer. How gay the garden looked, but oh, 
 how queer and small everything seemed ! Con began 
 to take care of some vegetables and pile up a heap of 
 rubbish. Ah, how light and happy she felt. Tim Mc- 
 Cray spied her out, and in ten minutes the neighborhood 
 was whooped up, and the clans gathering from "near 
 and from far." 
 
 "You're changed curiously," said Con. "You're 
 not a bit stuck up, but you've a ' moighty foine air' 
 about you. You're just the biggest sort of a trump " 
 
 " Sure you don't mean tramp? " interrupted Dell with 
 dancing eyes. 
 
 " Not to turn up your nose at a fellow who has to carry 
 in a peck of onions and pick the sere and faded bean- 
 vines. Let's shake pinkies and swear eternal friendship. 
 And when I get there I shall do my best to beat you out 
 of your boots in Latin." 
 
 They interlocked their little fingers and nodded. 
 Then Dell had to entertain the crowd for a few mo- 
 ments. Oh, how many old friends there were ! What 
 would Miss Sherburne say to see her the centre of this 
 crowd of boys not over clean, not over whole as to gar- 
 ments ! 
 
 Then Tessy came to summon them in.
 
 174 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " It's a telegram. Whatever will I do, Con? " cried 
 Iris mother in dismay. 
 
 "And the man wants you to sign the book," urged 
 Tessy. " Is there an answer? " 
 
 "Open it," commanded Con, with an assumption of 
 manliness. Mrs. Murray did, but she was so agitated 
 that she held it to Con to read. 
 
 If Lyndell Sherburne comes to you will you please 
 notify immediately. 
 
 J. WHITTINGHAM. 
 
 Densie glanced around helplessly. Dell turned pale. 
 "Of course I knew I would have to go back," Dell be- 
 gan tremulously. " Some one will have to come for me, 
 and I can't go before Monday. Oh, let me send the an- 
 swer." And her eyes sparkled. 
 
 " Yes," cried Con. " That will be immense." 
 Dell considered. Then she just penned : 
 
 I am safe with Murrays. 
 
 LYNDELL SHERBURNE. 
 
 The lad took the message and vanished. 
 
 " Miss Sherburne would like to explode me with dyna- 
 mite," said Dell, with a saucy laugh. " Well, we won't 
 let such a trifle spoil our good times." 
 
 And they did not. The " time " in Murray's Row far 
 exceeded anything that had ever been known there. It 
 was interrupted by dinner, and Dell declared she was 
 " hungrier than a bear." 
 
 Afterward mamma insisted she must lie down on the 
 lounge in the parlor. She looked so very pale and 
 tired. 
 
 " Kiss me at least twenty times," besought Dell. 
 " No one ever kisses me at Sherburne House." 
 
 " Alanna," began mamma coaxingly, " tell me a bit 
 about the money. I can't feel easy in my mind. Was
 
 IN THE OLD HOME ONCE MORE. 175- 
 
 it truly yours ? Yet I'd as soon suspect this right hand,' 
 and she held it up, plump and dimpled for all its hard 
 work, " as to think " 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! " Dell flushed and the tears came into 
 her eyes. " Mr. Whittingham gave me five dollars. 
 And I had my own two dollars that I took with me. The 
 other I found so queerly that it was like the old black 
 woman's miracle." 
 
 "Found it?" echoed Mamma Murray in consterna- 
 tion. 
 
 Dell sat up again and told the story. " I waited and 
 waited, and no one asked about it. And I was afraid 
 Miss Sherburne would not try to find the owner. She 
 says she never believes the negroes. I know the money 
 isn't mine, and I have only borrowed it. When I find 
 the real owner, I shall get some of mine and pay it 
 back." 
 
 Dell's honesty and casuistry puzzled the simple soul. 
 
 " Couldn't you have asked some one ? Cassy ? " 
 
 " Cassy must have told Miss Sherburne. And she 
 might have said maybe she would have thought I didn't 
 really find it. You can't think how utterly alone I am. 
 Oh, mamma, I shall hate to go back." 
 
 Dell sobbed, and Densie comforted her in her soft 
 crooning voice, and smoothed the white forehead until 
 suddenly, wearied out, Dell fell asleep. 
 
 The rest was an excellent thing for her. The day 
 turned out very warm, so warm, indeed, that when she 
 woke and had been bathed and refreshed, they all went 
 out under the old apple-tree. Surely the neighborhood 
 had assembled. There was Granny McCray, looking 
 more than ever like a wrinkled-up winter apple, who had 
 to clasp her arm before she would believe the girl wasn't 
 a "shperit." And as Dell talked, she kept interpo- 
 lating : Will ye hear that now ! Just listen a bit ! Ob 
 now, is it so, me dear ! "
 
 176 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 When Con Murray returned to the bosom of his family, 
 his amazement knew no bounds. I am afraid he so ad- 
 mired the daring of the girl that he had less blame for 
 the wrong. Dell was so eager, so fond, so inexplicably 
 changed, and yet so true. And as she told her story bit 
 by bit, not exaggerating in any respect, their hearts 
 ached for her. They felt sore at Miss Sherburne's dis- 
 dain of them, and her trying to win the girl to ingrati- 
 tude. 
 
 "They ought to send you away to a nice school. 
 With all the fortune that's to come to you, it's wicked to 
 keep you mewed up like a prisoner. The cantankerous 
 old thing ! If she comes here again, she'll have a piece 
 of my mind in short order." 
 
 " It's queer," remarked Dell, "but the other children 
 like her and she is kind and caressing to them. It's just 
 because I had to come in and take Sherburne House 
 from them. And I didn't want it a bit at first, but now 
 I am glad to keep it away from that Leonard Beau- 
 manoir. I hate him ! " 
 
 "Ah, dear, there are better things to life than hate," 
 and Con kissed the child's flushed face. " It's going to 
 be very hard for you. Heaven knows, I wish I could 
 see some better way out of it. I don't want you to grow 
 bitter and malevolent. For when you are a woman you 
 can make many people happy, if you only keep your 
 own sweet, sunny temper." 
 
 Dell drew a quivering breath. 
 
 "I can't keep sunny and pleasant," she said. "You 
 don't know lonely, how shut in it all is for me. I get 
 cross and tired sitting still so much, and I ache every- 
 where until I break out into some sort of temper. I 
 never did it here." 
 
 " Dell, my darling, there is only one thing. Be brave 
 and true. The time goes on, and it will presently bring 
 you to womanhood ; perhaps before that, you may come
 
 177 
 
 to some liberty. And though it seems ungracious to find 
 fault when you have braved so much to come to us, 1 
 want you to be very sure to search for the owner of the 
 money you found. It was not yours. I am going to re- 
 place it, and I want you to keep it sacredly." 
 
 "Oh, papa Murray!" She kissed him with eager 
 tenderness. " You must not do it. I mean to ask Mr. 
 Whittingham for it. You see it ought to come out of my 
 money." 
 
 " And, dear in the time to come you will remember 
 there is nothing equal to perfect uprightness." 
 
 The tears sprang to Dell's eyes, yet somehow she could 
 not feel sorry she had ventured. 
 
 It seemed so good to sleep in the small room with 
 Tessy. She held the plump, warm hand in hers, and 
 listened to the child's soft, regular breathing. She did 
 not feel sleepy. The contrast filled her mind, stirred, 
 and excited her. Would she really want to come back 
 and lose the splendid opportunities of the future? What 
 if there were some mistake what if she really were not 
 Edward Sherburne's daughter? But then, she could re- . 
 member her mother so far back ; it seemed too, as if she 
 could recall her father, in a shadowy way. But would 
 she be glad to give up that fine old home, the grand 
 woods and farms, the beautiful roomy house with its 
 grandeur even the maid to wait upon one, the spacious 
 chamber, the rich antique furniture, that certain air of 
 luxury that filled her for the first time with a vague sense 
 of enjoyment ? Hitherto it seemed as if she could have 
 thrown it all to the winds in her eagerness to be back 
 with the Murrays. 
 
 She could not really understand herself. She should 
 never, never give up her old friends who had been so 
 good to her in her time of need. But were not their 
 ways diverging a little? Their futures would certainly 
 be different. Not six months ago her girlish ambition
 
 178 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 was to graduate with honors and to teach school. The 
 richest girl in the county, Leonard Beaumanoir had said. 
 She could no longer protest against the change, but she 
 did rebel with her whole soul against the tyranny to 
 which she was being subjected. If they would only send 
 her to school ! 
 
 Con Murray was rather wakeful as well. 
 
 " That woman will ruin the child," he said to Densie, 
 with a keen sense of indignation. " If she is disobedient 
 and insolent, the treatment has made her so. I'm sure 
 one could always lead her with a soft word, and it argues 
 ill for a nature that always wants to drive. There's 
 something arbitrary and desperately selfish in it. And 
 to think if she'd found a dime about here, she would 
 have run to you with it, and now she keeps this sum 
 she hasn't trust enough in any one to ask help to find the 
 owner. One wants to laugh, too, at the real pluck of the 
 colleen ; and the love she bears us touches me to the 
 heart's core. Why can't her relatives win a little of it? 
 She only wants a kind word. She's not vicious or weak, 
 she has some of the bravest virtues, though she's a bit 
 hot-tempered. And with all this fortune she ought to 
 grow up into a fine, noble woman. She would, with 
 any sort of training." 
 
 " Whatever would we do if she had resolved not to go 
 back ! " cried Densie. "I was so frightened at first." 
 
 "She has some wisdom of her own," returned Con. 
 " And she is beginning to understand her position. But 
 I can't bear to think of the true, brave-hearted, honest 
 child being made underhand, secretive, obstinate, and 
 full of hate. If there was only one among them who 
 would love her a little ! It's a hard place to be thrust 
 into by a curious turn of fate." 
 
 " If we had known for certain that her mother's hopes 
 were to come true 
 
 " Yes, we should have done somewhat differently. I
 
 IN THE OLD HOME ONCE MORE. 179 
 
 ought to have written to them. Yet if it had added four 
 years of hardship to a younger life ! I suppose it is all 
 just as the good Father meant it to be, and we must not 
 lose faith because we cannot see the end. Only I don't 
 want her to be ruined by the mistakes of others." 
 
 They all had a delightful Sunday. It was warm and 
 summerlike. They sat out under the old apple-tree in 
 the afternoon, and the neighbors visited. Dell enjoyed 
 it with a secret sense of amusement. What would Miss 
 Sherburne say to her being the heroine of such a very 
 mixed audience ? She became aware of an intangible 
 difference herself. It was not pride she kissed some of 
 these old women with a tender heartiness, but she seemed 
 to realize that she had come of a rather different race. 
 Her mother was a more vivid personality than she had 
 ever been before, and Dell felt as if, in some respects, 
 she had suddenly matured. She was no longer a child, 
 eager only for fun and love. 
 
 And though she -enjoyed the quaint deference of the 
 children, and was a wonder to the elders, she began to 
 have a misgiving that it was not as truly heroic as it 
 seemed to these simple people. Something in Con's 
 eyes touched her as no reproof could have done. For 
 love's sake he could hardly blame, yet neither could he 
 approve. He was not less tender, in fact he could 
 hardly let her go far from his caressing hand, but the 
 very touch came almost to have an upbraiding in it. 
 Still she, with the light-hearted impulse of childhood, 
 put off the hour of reckoning. That she had caused any 
 real alarm or anxiety at Sherburne did not seem possible 
 to her. How had it been ?
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 
 
 WHEN Cassy went to her dinner she had taken the 
 precaution to lock Miss Sherburne's door. For once she 
 had seen a fleet figure skimming up the stairs, though she 
 had not considered it necessary to mention her suspicions. 
 It was some time before she returned, as a little business 
 delayed her. 
 
 How very still Lyndell seemed ! Cassy had been for- 
 bidden to speak to her, so she softly took out the key 
 and glanced into the apartment through the aperture. 
 Dell's blue gingham was on the bed where she had 
 thrown it in her haste. What more natural than for 
 Cassy to fancy she had fallen asleep, wearied out with 
 her solitude. 
 
 About five Miss Sherburne returned home, leaving her 
 friends to complete their visit. Cassy sat sewing, and she 
 glanced up at the entrance of her mistress. 
 
 " Have you had much trouble?" she asked. 
 
 " None at all. She has been very quiet. I fancy she 
 must have fallen asleep." 
 
 " You remained here all the time ? " 
 
 " Except when I went to dinner. Then Mrs. Wismer 
 came, and I hunted up the package of clothing. Her 
 husband is barely alive." 
 
 "You may go now." Miss Sherburne felt that she 
 would rather fight her battle without witnesses. 
 . All through her homeward drive she had been resolv- 
 ing resources in her mind, only to find them lamentably 
 deficient. Certainly, authority was not respected as it 
 180
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 181 
 
 had been in her youth. She remembered her own stately 
 and imperious mother, whose dainty hand often wielded 
 a slim, silver-handled riding whip on a refractory slave or 
 a disobedient child. Almost she longed to have the 
 power restored. And yet she was not a cruel woman. 
 The freed people at Sherburne found her an exact but 
 not unkindly mistress. 
 
 She opened the door a slight space. 
 
 " Lyndell," she said, " you may bring me your books, 
 and your sewing." 
 
 There was not the slightest stir. 
 
 " Lyndell," sharply. " Come at once." 
 
 The contumacy was exasperating. She pushed the 
 door open. Lyndell was lying on the bed. This was too 
 much to be borne quietly. She crossed the apartment. 
 It was merely the child's dress. She searched the closet, 
 she tried the door to the hall, which was locked. There 
 was the open window. 
 
 She rang for Cassy. 
 
 " Where is Miss Lyndell ? " she demanded. 
 
 Cassy searched the room to no purpose. 
 
 " She has escaped from the window." 
 
 " But I must have seen her. I sat here all the time, 
 except at noon." 
 
 " You are quite sure you did not see her ? " This was 
 asked with biting contempt. 
 
 " I thought she was so quiet that I looked once 
 through the keyhole. I fancied she was asleep." 
 
 " Go and find her at once." 
 
 Miss Sherburne was too angry for further utterance. 
 That Lyndell should dare to circumvent her in this man- 
 ner! Certainly the child seemed possessed by the devil. 
 What wanton blood was in her veins ! That she dared 
 to defy her authority so flagrantly, stunned the mistress 
 of Sherburne House. 
 
 Cassy flew to the quarters. No one had seen her.
 
 182 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Then she ran to several of Dell's favorite nooks, but all 
 in vain. Her eager, anxious voice woke only echoes. 
 
 Silver, the great house dog came up to her with eyes 
 of mute inquiry. 
 
 " Silver," she cried, " where is Miss Dell ? " 
 
 Dell had taken such a fancy to the dog on her arrival 
 that Miss Sherburne, who really disliked dogs around, 
 had banished him to the rear of the house. 
 
 He waved his tail with an air of profound sagacity, and 
 began to scent the porch, the steps, the path. Then he 
 went slowly across the turf to the magnolia thicket, where 
 he paused with a puzzled expression. 
 
 " But she is not here, Silver." 
 
 Silver looked up out of melancholy eyes. 
 
 "Julius might take out the hounds," thought Cassy. 
 "They would soon unearth her, if she was hiding any- 
 where. Or she might have lost her way." Full of this 
 idea, she went to Miss Sherburne. 
 
 " No," said that lady austerely. " I will not have the 
 whole plantation roused. Let her come back of her own 
 accord. She will hardly stay out all night." 
 
 But when she had partaken of her solitary supper, her 
 haughty composure yielded a little to Cassy's suggestion 
 that Dell might be lost. She really deserved to be left 
 in the woods all night, but that would hardly answer. 
 So she summoned Julius and his young compeer Tony. 
 
 "Miss Lyndell has strayed off somewhere alone," she 
 explained. "You had better take out the hounds. Of 
 course, I need not caution you to be careful and not 
 frighten the child." 
 
 " We'll take the best o' keer," declared Tony. 
 
 Two splendid animals they were in leash, gentle 
 enough to their master's hand. They, too, started 
 for the magnolia glen, scented a little, than ran on in- 
 telligently. 
 
 Julius paused. " You better go back, Cassy," he said.
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 183 
 
 " Tone an' me' 11 find her shuah. It's gittin' dark an' 
 damp." 
 
 Gassy returned, nervous and troubled. Dell must 
 have gone at noon. It was plain that she had lost her- 
 self in the woods. 
 
 " If Missus wasn't so strict with her." In moments of 
 excitement Cassy lapsed to the common idiom, though it 
 was her pride to talk just like white folks. " If Missus 
 wasn't so strict with her, it would be easier getting along. 
 She was just lovely the week Missus was away. And I 
 don't see why she doesn't pack her off to school. She'd 
 fare enough sight better." 
 
 "They have gone over through the woods. She and 
 Miss Hendricks took a walk there one day," announced 
 Cassy. 
 
 " That child ought to be kept under bolts and bars," 
 responded Miss Sherburne tartly. 
 
 Cassy wandered around with Silver at her side, pitying 
 Dell from the bottom of her soul, and wondering what 
 would be done with her. Miss Sherburne sat stiff and 
 indignant, nursing her wrath. 
 
 Ten. Eleven. Some time after this there was a rush 
 and rustle and the sound of voices. Miss Sherburne 
 braced herself for the encounter. 
 
 "It's sutn'y de queerest t'ing," began Tony breath- 
 lessly. " Dem dogs went straight over to Croz'ers. An' 
 to de depot! But sho ! she hadn't been dar. We done 
 woke up de clerk an' he swear no little gal buy any ticket 
 dis yer arternoon." 
 
 Julius came up and corroborated the statement. " An* 
 de dogs ready to go right back, but dey don' find no 
 odder trail nowhere." 
 
 " Cassy, do you know whether Miss Lyndell had any 
 money ?" 
 
 "I'm sure she didn't. At least I never heard her 
 mention only a little change she brought with her."
 
 184 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Of course Miss Hendricks would not be so generous as 
 to present the child with the price of a ticket. Could she 
 have written to the Murray s under cover of any one? She 
 had watched her so closely, but there was that unfortunate 
 week ! She would never take her eyes off of Dell again 
 until she was a woman grown. 
 
 Miss Sherburne was very, very angry. 
 
 " I do not know what else we can do to-night, if the 
 dogs will not take any other direction. As soon as day- 
 light, Julius, you go over to Ardmore and bring Mr. 
 Whittingham back. Stay perhaps it would be as well 
 to take the lanterns and follow the creek." 
 
 " Yes'm." 
 
 Miss Sherburne went up to her room, put on a dress- 
 ing gown, and lay down on the outside of her bed. She 
 was very wretched and nervous. She hated to admit 
 that the thing or person lived that she could not govern 
 or reduce to some sort of submission. She had signally 
 failed. Oh, what a terrible affair it had been from its. 
 very inception, Edward's meeting with that intriguing 
 governess. It did not occur to her that they were the 
 ones who had held the whole power in their hands, and 
 could have forgiven these imprudent young people 
 with less real anguish than Edward's death had cost 
 them. 
 
 Some of the servants did not go to bed. Even at the 
 quarters there was intense excitement. But Julius came 
 back with no news of the truant. 
 
 " Shouldn't be s' prised ef she done gone took de 
 keers somewer. Dem dogs nebber make mistakes." 
 
 At last morning dawned. It was still early when 
 Julius brought Mr. Whittingham over. 
 
 " My dear madam ! " He took Miss Sherburne's cold 
 hand in his, and was moved to sincerest pity by her pale 
 and harassed face. " What a terrible fright for you ! 
 And if there has been an accident but I have quite
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 185 
 
 decided that she must have started for New York. Has 
 she been in communication with the Murray s? " 
 
 " I cannot tell what she has done clandestinely. Not 
 to my knowledge, however." And she tried to steady 
 her voice. 
 
 " Had she any money ? " 
 
 " A dollar or two, Cassy thinks." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham colored delicately. " I ought to 
 confess," he began, in a somewhat embarrassed fashion, 
 " that I gave her five dollars the last time I was here." 
 
 " How could you have been so short-sighted, so indis- 
 creet ?" Miss Sherburne cried impatiently. 
 
 " It was foolish, certainly." Mr. Whittingham flushed 
 with mortification at the remembrance of having been 
 cajoled out of it by a child's persuasion. 
 
 " It cannot be that she would dare defy us all and re- 
 turn to the Murrays!" Miss Sherburne's eyes fairly 
 blazed with anger. " She must have had more money." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham stood silent from sheer amazement. 
 That a girl of thirteen, knowing so little of the world, 
 should undertake such a journey seemed incredible to 
 him. 
 
 " I wish I had understood Julius a little more explic- 
 itly before I started," he said, with evident regret. " I 
 should have telegraphed at once. But I imagined her 
 lost in the woods, or having met with some accident, and 
 I knew what your anxiety must be. If she went directly 
 through, she will be there this morning." 
 
 " It is a great pity one could not allow her to remain 
 there," the lady commented severely. "If this is a 
 specimen of the way she is going on to make herself no- 
 torious, Sherburne House will be finely disgraced in the 
 eyes of the world. The child is possessed by an evil 
 spirit. You cannot trust her." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham essayed to soften the matter a little. 
 And he was reallv worried.
 
 186 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " I had better get back to town as soon as possible 
 and telegraph. Meanwhile, you will continue your 
 search ? ' ' 
 
 " Such people bear charmed lives," she said, with in- 
 tense bitterness. " They go through all dangers un- 
 harmed. Indeed I cannot bring myself to believe that 
 she has been in any danger. I can almost hear her 
 laughing at' my fears in her impertinent way." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham drank a cup of coffee and mounted 
 his horse again. Miss Sherburne went about her morn- 
 ing's duties. There was only one way she could solve 
 the mystery, and presently she settled to that with a cer- 
 tain bitter satisfaction. She rarely left any money lying 
 about not under lock and key. But she remembered 
 some few times slipping a small sum in the corner of her 
 dressing-case drawer, or in the desk downstairs. That 
 it would be rather an impossibility for Dell to leave the 
 schoolroom and go roaming around undetected did not 
 occur to her. She did not shrink with any sense of hor- 
 ror at considering the child a thief it was what one 
 might look for, that or any other disgrace. 
 
 The result of the telegram established Mr. Whitting- 
 ham' s half-suspicion and relieved him immensely. He 
 sent word out to Sherburne House, also that he would pro- 
 ceed to New York that very evening, hoping in his inmost 
 soul that Miss Sherburne would not propose to accom- 
 ' pany him. Indeed she had no desire. Nothing would 
 induce her to meet the Murrays again. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham presented himself at an early hour 
 Monday morning, desirous of finding Mr. Murray, and 
 in this he was successful. 
 
 " We were so relieved to learn that you had the truant 
 safe," said the visitor, when the first greetings had 
 passed. " I hope you were not advised beforehand of 
 li'^r escapade, and in no way abetted it? " 
 
 " You should know us better and judge us more fairly,
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 187 
 
 Mr. Whittingham," was the grave answer. We were 
 utterly surprised." 
 
 " I feel that you must be. It was a terrible fright, for 
 no one supposed the child had enough money to set out 
 on such a journey. It was a great mystery how she ob- 
 tained it." 
 
 "I think she can explain that to your satisfaction. 
 When you place no confidence in a child, when you 
 deliberately show her that you will not depend upon 
 her word, you are not likely to beget confidence. 
 You'll find in a little while that the child can outwit 
 you." 
 
 " I will admit frankly that I do not altogether approve 
 of my friend's methods," rejoined Mr. Whittingham. 
 " You see an entirely new element has been introduced, 
 and Miss Sherburne hardly knows how to deal with it. 
 Changes in character must be made slowly, and violent 
 opposition always rouses the like quality, or is fruitful of 
 deceit." 
 
 Mr. Murray flushed warmly. " I have not discovered 
 any deterioration in regard to the child's truthfulness," 
 he replied quickly. " She is as frank and open as ever, 
 but her fine sense of honor will be ruined under the 
 treatment to which it is subjected. Miss Sherburne 
 struck at one of the highest virtues in the human soul 
 when she tried to uproot the child's grateful remem- 
 brance of us. I told you both you couldn't do it. Noth- 
 ing will ever destroy Lyndell Sherburne's loving regard 
 for us. Indeed, nothing ought. Why, look you was 
 it so small a thing to care for her mother, to give her 
 shelter and a parent's care these four years? It would 
 be monstrous ingratitude to forget. And her mother was 
 the most grateful creature in the world. You never 
 raised a finger for her that she didn't smile as graciously 
 as the finest queen of them all. But to take a child 
 away from even-thins; that has been dear and pleasant
 
 188 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 and sweet, and thrust her out to loneliness, is what I call 
 cruel ! " 
 
 "You cannot understand both sides," began Mr. 
 Whittingham in nervous embarrassment. 
 
 " But I can understand truth and honor and kindliness 
 and sympathy, and they tend to make life better; " in- 
 terrupted Con Murray, with indignant warmth. " I 
 know the child wasn't wanted, but she had the right. 
 They pretend they loved the father ; they punish her for 
 the father's sin. There are people in the world who are 
 always wanting to help deal out God's judgments. But 
 they've nothing at all to do with them. And if this 
 young man had let the sweet, pretty girl alone, to go her 
 own way, there would have been no trouble. But hav- 
 ing married her, I should have been ashamed of my 
 whole race in him, if he had been less loyal, if he had 
 done any less than try for her happiness. Now why 
 can't these people of yours accept the facts ? The child 
 did not want to come to them. She has a good right to 
 despise their pride and narrowness and ill-will that, per- 
 haps, indirectly made her an orphan. She would have 
 gone to them with kindliest impulses if they had given 
 her a welcoming smile, treated her with a show of jus- 
 tice " 
 
 " I think when time has worn off the asperi- 
 ties " 
 
 " But there should be no asperities to wear off as far 
 as the child is concerned. If she was vicious, if her 
 associations had been at the lowest ebb of morality, there 
 might be some excuse. I'm Irish, to be sure, and I'm 
 not ashamed of it. I'm thinking that two hundred years 
 agone there was more than one good Irishman came 
 over to Virginia and the Carolinas. And though we've 
 no title in our branch, there was many a brave soldier 
 from the time of Boyne Water down, and they always 
 stood up for honor and the broader liberty of conscience.
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 189 
 
 So I've ancestors in plenty. And as to poverty, my bit 
 of land here Murray's Row as we call it could be 
 turned into a fortune to-morrow. Miss Sherburne was a 
 bit wild when she put us down to the bottom of things. 
 Diamonds lie in the depths of sand pits, and pearls are 
 fished up out of the blackest mud at times, but I never 
 heard of a pretty woman refusing them for that cause." 
 And Con's eyes twinkled. 
 
 " My dear sir, I beg of you not to take that too 
 literally," the visitor pleaded. 
 
 " But when it's thrust at you, put in plain black and 
 white, as if somewhere along life you had been down to 
 the lowest depths ! I saw it all when she bound me to 
 have no communication, and I promised ; but I said to 
 myself, 'When Dell Sherburne's a woman and free, 
 she'll come back to the bosom of her foster-mother as 
 swift as a carrier dove,' and I was willing to wait. I 
 don't think she was told at first that she was not to write, 
 and I'm sorry she did it without asking permission. 
 Then Con, that's my lad, found the soft spot in his 
 mother's heart and begged to write just once, and she 
 let him. There would have been no more letters. But 
 the madame flies at me like some wild thing and ac- 
 cused me of all the crimes in the calendar ! I took no 
 notice. I never have words with a woman. And I truly 
 believed that the end, for years to come. Do you not 
 think we should long to hear about the child we loved 
 as our very own ? " 
 
 Mr. Whittingham changed color more than once 
 through Con's fervent harangue. To try to reinstate 
 Miss Sherburne in the opinion of the Murrays would be 
 a useless endeavor. He could not make them under- 
 stand the fine exclusive pride of birth that had been in- 
 stilled into her from childhood, and intensified by her 
 narrow life and many of the incidents of the war. Yet 
 her extreme bitterness to the child was something quite
 
 190 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 foreign to her nature. She had ruled the household and 
 the slaves, and she had the old ideas of keeping people 
 in their places by a certain austere repression. That 
 Lyndell's position was that of the heiress of Sherburne 
 House, and that she was to have respect shown to her as a 
 real descendant of the young man so loved and regretted, 
 had not yet forced its way into her unwilling soul. He 
 was silent from very perplexity. 
 
 " I should be the last man," continued Mr. Murray, 
 <( to teach a child to hold in light esteem its natural 
 guardians. And I understand how necessary it is for 
 Lyndell to be won to her own people. We should have 
 trained her to consider them more seriously, only we 
 were afraid of putting into her head hopes that could 
 never be realized. We never doubted that Mrs. Sher- 
 burne believed her child the heir to some fortune, but 
 there are so many queer things in law, and at first we 
 waited to hear. You see, I didn't know just where to 
 write. It's been an unfortunate business, and now we 
 ought all to do our best for the child." 
 
 " But do you think you can persuade her to return 
 without a great deal of trouble?" and Mr. Whitting- 
 ham's very eyes appealed to the foster-father. 
 
 "Return!" Con lifted his eyebrows, and his lip 
 curled with a half contempt at any one understanding 
 Dell so poorly. "She hasn't a thought of staying." 
 He laughed softly in pleased triumph. " God knows I 
 wish we could keep her ! But she knows her father's 
 home is to be hers ; and while she frets against it, she 
 understands that her relatives have the legal rights, and 
 that we may not at present make even the claim of 
 friendship. We shall not do it. We can wait." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham was greatly relieved. If Dell would 
 only be reasonable ! 
 
 " I hope you will see the justice of standing between 
 her and any bitter displeasure she may have incurred.
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 191 
 
 It was a daring thing undertaken on the spur of the 
 moment, but the plan had been in her mind some time. 
 If you want a kind, gracious, generous-hearted woman, 
 her character must be shaped that way by example," 
 said Mr. Murray. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham held out his hand. 
 
 " Believe me that I have not entirely approved of Miss 
 Sherburne's course, though it was difficult to interfere. 
 I shall take a more decided stand in the future. I want 
 you to feel that you can trust me with the child so 
 dear to you all. I shall insist upon her being sent to 
 school." 
 
 "That would be better. It's cruel, keeping her in 
 such bondage. It's like catching some bright wild 
 creature and shutting it away from its kind. Punishing 
 her with days of confinement and a bit of bread why, I 
 don't wonder she ran away ! " And he smiled. " It's 
 the outbreak of any child deprived of its natural liberty. 
 But she's seen us all and she's had her fling, as we say, 
 and she expects to face the result. She hasn't begged 
 to stay. She has not suggested that any one shall stand 
 between her and harm. She has the courage of a boy. 
 I have more than once said she should have been a 
 boy." 
 
 "That would have simplified matters greatly. There 
 would have been little objection to her in that case." 
 
 " So you punish her again for being a girl ! " said Con 
 humorously. "That's rather hard, seeing it wasn't her 
 fault. But some man will harvest a tremendous amount 
 of sweetness if it doesn't all get crushed out of her, and 
 she soured by the process." 
 
 " She shall have a fair chance in the future I will see 
 to that myself," said Mr. Whittingham, with a new 
 decision in his tone. " She has not been rightly treated. 
 And I cannot sufficiently express my admiration of you 
 and yours for the honorable and kindly course you have
 
 !> SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 taken. I will say here that as often as once a month I 
 \\ill keep you informed of her welfare. I realize what a 
 great sacrifice Miss Sherburne asked of you." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Con. " May be I'm a bit hot- 
 headed, and I was indignant at the idea of a girl of thir- 
 teen being subjected to such rigorous treatment simply 
 because she wasn't made on some other person's plan. 
 I'll trust you to see she has some of her rights. I don't 
 believe the Sherburnes have quite all. And in the days 
 to come there may be some Murray s that won't shame 
 even Miss Sherburne." 
 
 Mr. Whittingham would have been very exigent if he 
 had not admired Con Murray. There was the large- 
 ness of a nature's nobleman about him. And though in 
 his narrow circle self-made men rarely knocked for en- 
 trance, he acknowledged, this one would hardly be 
 refused admittance where manliness was one of the 
 requisites. 
 
 " May I see Miss Dell ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; we are not keeping her a prisoner." And 
 he laughed genially, as he opened the door and sum- 
 moned her. 
 
 Dell entered a little abashed. She raised her eyes 
 with a half-shy, irresistible entreaty. Mr. Whittingham 
 put out his hand, and she found hers taken in a kindly 
 clasp. Already she was half-forgiven. 
 
 " I shall leave you to answer for your own sins," 
 said papa Murray. " Only must she leave us imme- 
 diately ? " 
 
 " No," returned her guardian. " I have a matter of 
 business on hand, and we will not start until to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 "Then I will leave you for a conference," said Mr. 
 Murray. " I will see you again to-morrow." And he 
 bowed his adieu. 
 
 Dell stood bright-eyed, daring, yet silent.
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 1KJ 
 
 You gave us all a great fright," began Mr. Whit- 
 tingham. "Julius turned out and scoured the woods , 
 and Miss Sherburne did not sleep for the alarm." 
 
 Dell laughed a little, a doubtful, half-inquiring sort of 
 laugh. 
 
 " Do you suppose any one would have cared if an ac- 
 cident had happened to me ? That is, if I were dead ? 
 They would have Sherburne House then." 
 
 " My child, you must not think any one could be so 
 utterly heartless," he said, with real solicitude. " No 
 one desires your death. For, after all, the whole fam- 
 ily knew that while you lived they had no claim. And 
 you were brought to your rightful home." 
 
 " But I could see. I can see and feel. Does any 
 one love me as they do here at the Murrays ? No, 
 that would be too much to ask. But, Mr. Whittingham, 
 I have been shown so plainly that I was an interloper, 
 that I was unwelcome, that I did not deserve to be 
 treated with any consideration. And those who had 
 befriended me were despised. Everything I did was 
 wrong. Everything I had learned was of no account." 
 Dell's bosom heaved and her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " It has been very hard for you," he said gently. " I 
 have only just realized how hard. But we shall in- 
 stitute a new order of things, and I want you to believe 
 I am sufficiently interested in you to study your welfare. 
 If you choose, you shall go away to school." 
 
 "I do choose. In school I should rank with other 
 scholars. I know I could keep my place ;" she ended 
 proudly. 
 
 " How had you the courage to take such a journey 
 alone?" he inquired with a half-smile, in spite of his 
 gravity. 
 
 " Was it courage ? I was wild, desperate ! Mr. 
 Whittingham, I once had half a mind to throw myself 
 out of the window in the hope that it would kill me.
 
 194 SHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 And then I thought they would have Sherburne House, 
 and be really happy over it. And now I am resolved to 
 live. But it was rather perhaps I am very bad after 
 all." And she sighed. " I do not call it real bravery 
 it was daring, a defiance of of Miss Sherburne 1 s power. 
 She had been so very unjust to me all the week. I had 
 planned it so many times when I was miserable and 
 lonely, that it seemed as if I knew just the way." 
 
 " You walked over to Croziers ? " 
 
 " Yes. And there was no difficulty anywhere. A 
 very kindly woman took care of me. I do not think it 
 was quite fair or honest" and Dell's head drooped 
 while a scarlet flush mounted to the very roots of her 
 hair " to use the money you gave me for that purpose 
 and in that way." 
 
 " But that was not all ? " 
 
 " I found the rest. I know that was not mine either, 
 and as soon as I get home I shall try to discover the 
 owner." She had a vague wish that Mr. Whittingham 
 might help her, but she felt that Cassy would be in a 
 better position so to do. 
 
 " That is right," he replied. He was glad to find her 
 so amenable. Then he told her she would have another 
 day's respite, and she was delighted beyond measure. 
 
 What a day it was ! A merry party went down to the 
 Park and had a delightful sail, and no end of fun 
 donkey riding. Then Aunt Maggie came to tea, and 
 what with all the babies and all the entertainment, Dell 
 was tired enough to drop asleep the instant her head 
 touched the pillow. 
 
 And though she was brave the next morning, it was a 
 hard parting, nevertheless. She realized now that it 
 might be years before she would see them again, and she 
 had sacredly promised papa Murray never again to seek 
 them or hold any intercourse in opposition to Miss Sher- 
 burne's wishes.
 
 A GRAVE QUESTION. 195 
 
 Densie held her to her heart, and kissed down into the 
 wet face with tremulous lips. 
 
 "Oh, my darling!" she cried, "trust the good Fa- 
 ther, and he will bring it all out right. You'll always be 
 our very own, and we want some day to be proud of our 
 dear daughter." 
 
 Dell could only answer with sobs.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 
 
 MR. WHITTINGHAM found during the first part of the 
 journey as quiet a traveling companion as Dell had 
 proved three months earlier. He covertly watched her 
 eyes overflow and thought they looked like wind-blown 
 lakes. How curious that the Murrays brought out 
 only what was sweet and noble in her ! They had 
 no complaints to make. And yet he had seen chil- 
 dren hanging about Miss Sherburne's neck, kissing her 
 delicate cheek, almost smothering her in the carriage. 
 Certainly she had never objected to them, and the 
 house had been gay with grandchildren during Mr. 
 Sherburne's declining years. Was it, indeed, the secret 
 unwillingness to accept her that reacted upon the child ? 
 
 Mr. Whittingham longed to say something that would 
 bring Lyndell Sherburne into friendly relations with 
 himself. But he had never known girls intimately. 
 His sister had married and gone away while he was 
 yet in college. He and his mother had lived together 
 until her death, not many years before, when his sister, 
 now a widow had come back to keep his house. One 
 son was in Colorado, married ; one she brought with 
 her, a quiet, studious lad who was now reading law 
 in his uncle's office. He was courteous and gentle to 
 all womankind, but a girl was an unknown quantity to 
 him. 
 
 Dell somehow felt curiously tired. She was going to 
 her true place in the world, to fight a hard battle, and it 
 seemed as if she had suddenly lost the vim of belliger- 
 1%
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. lit? 
 
 ency. Had she outgrown the desires of the past? She 
 felt merged into some state that was quite new ; she was 
 not at home in it. Neither did she want the old life. 
 There was an irritating mental struggle, a sense of having 
 gone past the children in Murray's Row, and a certain 
 presentiment of having bidden them good-bye forever. 
 
 She had not hitherto made her fortune any real thing. 
 She saw now the changes it must bring out in many re- 
 spects. It drifted her to quite another shore. It had 
 duties of a different order from the life Dell Murray had 
 known. 
 
 All the latter part of the journey a friend claimed 
 Mr. Whittingham's attention. Dell felt very tired 
 and was glad when they could leave the train. They 
 went to a hotel and had some dinner, but she was not 
 hungry. She enjoyed the walk afterward, as he 
 pointed out many places of interest. He found her 
 an intelligent companion, abounding in bright com- 
 parisons. When the lamps were lighted, she was eager 
 in her enjoyment. The night air was so cool and de- 
 lightful that it eased her throbbing temples. 
 
 Still, she felt glad to goto bed. Perhaps this vague, 
 stupid feeling was the reaction. She tossed restlessly, 
 she slept by snatches, and woke with strange impres- 
 sions that could hardly be called dreams. Was it 
 because she dreaded the final termination of her 
 stolen pleasure ? 
 
 She looked rather heavy-eyed the next morning, 
 and wanted nothing more substantial than peaches 
 and melons. Mr. Whittingham was really distressed 
 about her. 
 
 " I want you to look upon me in the light of a true 
 friend," he said kindly to her. "And if you wish to 
 make any appeal to me, do not be afraid so to do. 
 Though I anticipate being forbidden to give you any 
 more monev for some time to come."
 
 198 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Dell gave a faint smile. " Perhaps I shall not want 
 any," she said listlessly, " unless I go to school. And 
 I shall always, I think, tell you just what I wish to do 
 with it." 
 
 "I shall be pleased with the confidence. Do you 
 want to tell me just how you found that money 
 you merely said you found it." 
 
 " I should like to." Dell slipped a little nearer to 
 him, and considered. " Would you be compelled to 
 tell Miss Sherburne ? " 
 
 " Not if you desired it kept secret." 
 
 "And then she would be very angry. Perhaps I had 
 better not," she said gravely. " I want to make one 
 attempt to discover the owner, but not through her. 
 And I am afraid she would not believe me if I told 
 her the exact truth." 
 
 "You have never told her anything but the truth?" 
 he inquired, in a little alarm. 
 
 "I have never told her any falsehoods." And Dell 
 raised her serious eyes that somehow looked pathetic 
 this morning. " I am afraid I have done things papa 
 Murray did not consider them quite right. At home, 
 you know, mamma was not always cutting off pleasures 
 and shutting you up alone for punishment. And if we 
 had any doubt, we were not afraid to ask her. She 
 liked to have us happy." And Dell sighed. 
 
 " I hope you are going to be happy again. You 
 must try to make yourself as much loved at Sher- 
 burne " 
 
 " There would need to be people to love me," she 
 said archly, as he paused. 
 
 Then they took their morning journey and arrived 
 at Ardmore in due time. The Sherburne carriage was 
 there, driven by Julius, the mistress sitting in the ut- 
 most state. She leaned out a little and held her hand 
 toward Mr. Whittingham.
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 199 
 
 " I knew your time would be valuable to you this 
 morning," she said, "so I drove over. I could not 
 be quite sure that you would be a match for the Mur- 
 rays, single-handed. Was the conflict very sharp? 
 Of course the affair was of their planning ? And I sus- 
 pect Miss Hendricks had a hand in it." 
 
 "You quite misjudge them all," he returned gravely. 
 " And I had no trouble whatever. They have shown 
 the utmost consideration. I must have a long talk with 
 you. Will this afternoon be agreeable to you?" And 
 there was a slight imperativeness in his tone. 
 
 "Any time. And I have solved the mystery of the 
 money," with a bitter smile, bending a little lower so 
 that no one could hear. " It is simply shameful, mon- 
 strous ! " 
 
 Julius had assisted Dell into the carriage, and 
 taken his own seat. Now his mistress gave him a 
 signal. 
 
 " Do not be hasty or unjust, I beg of you," entreated 
 Mr. Whittingham as they drove away. 
 
 She had vouchsafed one cold nod to Dell. Now 
 she took no notice whatever of her. Dell sat silent, 
 her head was aching, and there was a queer feeling as 
 if her soul had wandered off into vague space, and only 
 a dull, nerveless body was left here to fight the battle. 
 
 It was a soft, sunless day, with perhaps a touch of 
 coming storm in the air. How lovely and inviting every- 
 thing looked. If the trees would only take her in their 
 fragrant arms ! No one would hold her or caress her 
 again for such a long, long time. They turned the curve 
 in the avenue. Was that the window out of which she 
 had stepped only a few days ago, full of eager, defiant 
 resolves ? How long it seemed ! 
 
 They were handed out. A few faces were peering 
 curiously. Miss Sherburne merely said "Go up- 
 stairs."
 
 200 SHEKBUJiXE HOUSE. 
 
 Dell went indifferently. Nothing seemed to matter 
 much. Gassy sat sewing in Miss Sherburne's room. 
 She sprang up with a cry that had a throb of relief 
 in it. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Dell! And you have really returned! I 
 
 was afraid And how could you dare venture on 
 
 such a journey ! We were frightened almost out of our 
 wits ! And you might have been murdered 
 
 Dell laughed, with careless scorn. " I am nearer be- 
 ing murdered now," she said. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Dell I wouldn't stand in your shoes for a 
 world ! Did your friends send you the money ? " 
 
 There was an eager, strained look in Cassy's eyes. 
 
 "My friends ? No. They are innocent of any part in 
 the matter. No one counselled me or assisted me in the 
 slightest." 
 
 "But how did you get the money? Oh, Miss Dell, 
 you surely never took what did not belong to you ! " 
 and there was a wild sort of terror in Cassy's voice. 
 
 "If you mean that I stole the money," and Dell's eyes 
 were black with rising temper, " I do not know who I 
 could steal it from ' 
 
 " I can attend to this matter, Cassy," said Miss Sher- 
 burne, with austere dignity. Her first impulse was to 
 dismiss Cassy, then she turned to Dell, who still stood 
 there with her hat on. The flame of passion had died 
 down, and there was a curious ashen pallor. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Lyndell Sherburne, I demand to know how 
 you obtained the money you used for your journey ? " 
 
 Dell was dully silent. She feared that her story had 
 an air of improbability. If Miss Sherburne did not be- 
 lieve her and there seemed small encouragement in the 
 stern, icy face. 
 
 Miss Sherburne had brooded over her idea so continu- 
 ally ; she had been offended, too, that Dell was allowed 
 an extra day. A stern reckoning it was now to be.
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 201 
 
 " You will not tell, you shameless, despicable girl ! 
 How dare you disgrace an honorable family by such 
 lawless, defiant proceedings ! You have ruined yourself 
 for life. You deserve to b placed in some penal institu- 
 tion. Confess, wretched girl, who your accomplices 
 were, that they too may be punished. The arm of justice 
 can reach a long distance, you will find." 
 
 " I had no accomplices," Dell returned sullenly. " I 
 went while Cassy was at dinner. No one saw me. No 
 one helped me." 
 
 "And the money?" Miss Sherburne's eyes were 
 fastened on her with a triumphant glitter that seemed to 
 transfix the child. 
 
 "I would rather not tell you just now," Dell an- 
 swered, in a curiously measured tone. 
 
 " You cannot ! " with a bitter emphasis. " You shrink 
 from blazoning your shame, your pitiful dishonesty. 
 Well I will tell you. Little by little, as you found 
 drawers and boxes open, you abstracted that money ! I 
 had not lived with thieves, so I took no extra precautions. 
 Like the sly, stealthy creature that you are, you planned 
 and made all ready, and watched your opportunity 
 You salved your conscience with the thought that, since 
 you were the future heiress of Sherburne House, you had 
 a right to anything you could lay your hands on. But 
 you will find that you had no claim on my money. And 
 you will carry this brand of a thief all your life long ! I 
 wonder you do not sink to the floor at my very feet, at 
 thus seeing your humiliating perfidy unearthed. You 
 have no shame, no sense of honor. The kind of creature 
 your mother must have been, I can faintly imagine ! " 
 
 Dell had stood horror-stricken. If Miss Sherburne 
 had missed money, nothing but the real ownership of her 
 fifteen dollars ever could exonerate her. And Miss 
 Sherburne would take no steps toward that end, since 
 she claimed the money. Then her high courage came
 
 202 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 to the front. She was deadly pale, and every pulse 
 throbbed and trembled so that she could scarcely stand. 
 Her eyes were balls of dark, lurid fire, and she fixed 
 them steadily on her persecutor. 
 
 " You believe I stole your money ? " Her voice was 
 clear, and terrible in the lack of any expression of out- 
 ward anger. " I took no money from this house on 
 which you could have the slightest claim. When you 
 call me a thief, you utter a falsehood that I shall never 
 forgive to my latest hour. I shall always hate you ! Do 
 you not suppose that I know I am entitled to something 
 beyond mere food and shelter, that you have no real 
 right to keep me a prisoner, to half starve me, to ac- 
 cuse me of crimes of which I never even dreamed ! 
 You treat me as if I were a slave, an outcast forced 
 upon your charity. There are no slaves now." And 
 she laughed scornfully. " You hardly dare murder me, 
 I think " 
 
 The room seemed to whirl around and turn dark be- 
 fore Dell's eyes, and a horrible misgiving seized her. 
 What if Miss Sherburne had lost the money ! 
 
 The lady stood dumfounded for a moment. Never 
 had she imagined such effrontery, such bravado. She 
 had expected to overwhelm Lyndell by the knowledge 
 of her turpitude, and she still stood there defying her. 
 Conquer, she must. 
 
 " All this fanfaronade does not explain away your 
 crime," she went on, with haughty, withering scorn. 
 " You are an insolent, untruthful, dishonest girl. You 
 are not to be trusted out of one's sight, and you never 
 will be again. I had not counted on your being hon- 
 orable enough to confess your fault, so your course does 
 not really surprise me. But you will find that I am not 
 to be trifled with. There will be no moment in the future 
 in which you will not be under my own, or Cassy's eyes." 
 
 Dell's strength seemed suddenly waning. There was
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 203 
 
 a sound in her ears as if she had been plunged into the 
 depths of the sea. A thief! That was what she had 
 been called by the woman who had no right over her, 
 who was living in her house and denying her the free- 
 dom of it. The very air rayed off sparks. Miss Sher- 
 burne seemed to assume gigantic proportions and sweep 
 down upon her. She was sick, dizzy ! She tried to 
 scream but her throat was like ashes, her tongue stiff. 
 Then all was dark. 
 
 Cassy sprang up. Dell had struck her head against 
 the corner of the chair as she went down. She was mar- 
 ble white, her lips a compressed blue line. 
 
 " I don't know whether she. has fainted or is sham- 
 ming," said Miss Sherburne coldly. " She is such a per- 
 fect mistress of deception. Lay her on the bed. After 
 such a tramp and this lawless indulgence I should think 
 she would be tired out." 
 
 Cassy carried her to her own bed. She soon revived, 
 but she glanced around in a dazed manner, then shut her 
 eyes and drew a long, sighing breath. 
 
 " Give her a bath," Miss Sherburne commanded, with 
 sharp authority. " Then you may as well put her to bed. 
 1 forbid you to say one word to her more than absolute 
 necessity requires. She shall be watched as a cat watches 
 a mouse. I will not have her running around like a 
 ploughboy. She shall learn to conduct herself decently 
 and not disgrace us all." 
 
 Cassy was left alone with the child. She began to dis- 
 robe her, but Dell paid no attention. In the bath she 
 shuddered, and clung to Cassy with a pitiful cry. Then 
 she was put in fresh garments. 
 
 " I should like to go to bed," she said weakly. All 
 her energy had left her. She was so tired, she ached so 
 all over. Oh, what was the matter? 
 
 "Will you get me a drink?" And she turned her 
 dulled eyes to Cassy.
 
 204 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Dell, surely you are not going to be ill?" 
 cried Cassy, with concern. "There, lie do\vn." 
 
 "The water tastes bitter. Oh, you don't suppose any 
 one would poison me ? " she cried tremulously. 
 
 "There, dear, there," said the soft voice soothingly. 
 
 The next moment she had dropped asleep. Hou like 
 death she looked ! Cassy was frightened, and waited 
 anxiously for Miss Sherburne's return. 
 
 "She looks ill," the girl said, in an apprehensive 
 "tone. 
 
 " I should think she would be, after racing around the 
 country like a crazy thing," was the reply in a hard, 
 pitiless tone. " Sleep will do her the most good." 
 
 Lyndell slept on and on. She scarcely stirred. Miss 
 Sherburne attended to her duties, and severely dis- 
 couraged any inquiry on the part of the servants. Mr. 
 Whittingham came quite early in the afternoon. Truth 
 to tell, he was ill at ease concerning his ward. 
 
 "Lyndell has gone to bed," Miss Sherburne said, in 
 answer to his solicitude. "She was tired to death, and 
 is asleep. What could one expect after such adven- 
 tures ? " 
 
 " Did you question her any ? " 
 
 " I did. She replied in her usual insufferable, insolent 
 manner. She really glories in her escapade. What is to 
 be done with the child puzzles me ! " 
 
 Her tone Vvas hard to the verge of indifference. 
 
 "You said you had some suspicion? The Murrays 
 seemed to think there was nothing very wrong " and 
 he hesitated, flushed a trifle. 
 
 "I suppose not." Miss Sherburne cut off her words 
 sharply. " I told you I had solved the mystery. The 
 child has watched her opportunities, and abstracted small 
 sums as she has found my desk open. It would not 
 surprise me if she had also taken some from Miss Hend- 
 ricks."
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 205 
 
 Mr. Whittingham was horror-stricken. 
 
 "Surely, Miss Sherburne, you must be mistaken! I 
 cannot credit such a thing ! Had you missed any sums? " 
 
 Miss Sherburne colored, with a sort of inward up- 
 braiding. She had not gone strictly over her accounts. 
 Neither could she say that she had positively missed any 
 money, or had any particular date for her losses. Yet 
 she was certain it must be so, and was so angry at the 
 girl's defiance that she would not try to unearth any proof 
 to the contrary. 
 
 " I taxed her with it," she said, "and she could give 
 no explanation. She showed every sign of guilt. Of 
 course this is a delicate matter, and I shall not bruit it 
 abroad. But in future I shall take great care that she has 
 no opportunities." 
 
 "I have given the matter serious consideration," he 
 began gravely. " She is a great tax on your time and 
 patience, and she would be better with companions of 
 her own age. I think I can convince Mr. Beaumanoir 
 that she needs the regular discipline and incentives of 
 school " 
 
 " School ! " the lady interrupted. " Companions ! She 
 would ruin every child with whom she came in contact. 
 She would disgrace us all openly before she had finished 
 her first term. I would not trust her out of my sight I 
 never shall again." 
 
 "Perhaps you are a little embittered," he returned, 
 much distressed. "The Murrays found no fault with 
 her. It has been hard, I admit, to take in an utter 
 stranger, and it has been as trying for her among 
 strangers. My dear madam, I beg of you to consider 
 many points." Then he paused, perplexed as to how he 
 could best present his case. 
 
 " You will grant that I have had considerable experi- 
 ence with children," she said loftily. "And this is cer- 
 tainI will not risk any future disgrace. I have had
 
 206 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 enough of wild pranks. For the present I shall keep the 
 child entirely under my control." 
 
 " At least, you will allow me to see her ? " he inquired 
 courteously. If she came down he might persuade her 
 to some explanation. He was very much afraid it would 
 not be honorable ; but it was best to have it over, to know 
 the worst. 
 
 " Oh, if she cares to come " indifferently. She rang 
 the bell and summoned Cassy. 
 
 " Dress Miss Dell, and send her down," was the per- 
 emptory order. 
 
 " She is asleep," replied Cassy, then added hesitatingly : 
 *' She does not seem at all well." 
 
 " Shall I have her roused?" to Mr. Whittingham. 
 
 "Oh, no! " rubbing his hands rather nervously. Yet 
 he regretted it extremely. 
 
 He did not remain much longer, for he saw that it was 
 quite impossible to reason with his hostess, and he did 
 not wish to quarrel. 
 
 "She seems very feverish," said Cassy, when Miss 
 Sherburne entered the room. 
 
 " Of course it will take her some days to get over the 
 excitement, but such rugged constitutions soon recuper- 
 ate," returned the lady carelessly. 
 
 Dell lay there half asleep, unable to think consecutively. 
 She tried to rouse and remember where she wished to go. 
 What was this band around her head ; this heat, as of 
 some dreadful fire? Then all was dark and cool again. 
 She was threading her way through the woods in mortal 
 terror of dogs. Then she was lost in a crowd, stifled, 
 crushed, gasping for breath 
 
 With evening a soft rain set in. Miss Sherburne 
 moved about uneasily. What was to be done with this 
 contumacious girl to-morrow ? What if this lawless ad- 
 venture should bring about a scandal ! She had heard 
 of wild young women doing desperate things and ruining
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 207 
 
 their good names, eloping with some ignoble schemer. 
 Such a girl would be only too ready to throw herself into 
 the arms of any man who pretended to care for her. The 
 future loomed black with horrible phantoms that made 
 her shudder. 
 
 She went to her desk and commenced a note to Mrs. 
 Beaumanoir, begging her to make the closest inquiries 
 about Mrs. Fanshawe and learn whether she was a per- 
 son of experience and authority. She could hardly de- 
 cide whether to explain the escapade or not. Then she 
 tried to go over her accounts. She kept them scrupu- 
 lously, and she had a misgiving that she must have 
 missed even a few dollars. But her head ached, her 
 nerves were all unstrung, and she closed her desk with 
 a kind of impatient weariness. 
 
 Cassy had given Dell a composing draught, and she 
 was sleeping heavily. There was some fever, but it did 
 not appear alarming. After much perplexed cogitation 
 Miss Sherburne dismissed Cassy and retired, leaving the 
 door open between the rooms. 
 
 She had drowsed off when something startled her. She 
 sprang up in bed. Lyndell was cautiously stealing 
 through the room, her hands outstretched. 
 
 "Lyndell, what do you mean?" Miss Sherburne 
 caught her by the arm, shaking her roughly. 
 
 The girl turned and stared with glazed, desperate eyes. 
 Her face was strangely swollen and flushed a dull scar- 
 let, her lips livid. 
 
 "I am going away." And she gave a shrill laugh. 
 " You want Sherburne House for for some one I 
 can't remember. Papa Murray will tell me. And you 
 shan't starve me. You have no right 
 
 " Go back to bed this moment ! " 
 
 " Why, I am going to run away ! " She laughed in a 
 weak, confused fashion and put her hand to her head.. 
 still staring at Miss Sherburne.
 
 208 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Was she delirious, or was this merely acting? 
 
 "Yes I have the money all safe. She shall not 
 starve me ! How far is it ? I am so tired, and if I can- 
 not reach Croziers before the train goes " 
 
 She stood immovable. Miss Sherburne summoned 
 Cassy. 
 
 " O Edward," she groaned. " If you could see the 
 result of your wretched marriage ! " 
 
 Cassy took Dell's arm gently. 
 
 "Will you get my ticket?" she inquired cautiously. 
 " I had better not be seen." 
 
 "Yes, this way." Cassy led her back to bed. 
 
 " Oh," she shrieked, " don't let her come near me ! 
 Don't let her look at me with her cruel eyes ! I hated 
 them when I first saw them ! " 
 
 Cassy waved Miss Sherburne away. She soothed and 
 caressed her with gentle touches, and some time later 
 Dell fell into a heavy sleep. 
 
 Miss Sherburne sat by the window and listened to the 
 drip and patter of the leaves. 
 
 " I am silly to allow that child's unreasoning chatter 
 to disturb me." She gave herself a sort of mental pull- 
 ing together. " No one can be quite safe from her hor- 
 rible tongue. The Murrays suggested it, no doubt." 
 She shivered with an inward fear. Surely, she had not 
 desired Dell's life she could truthfully say she had 
 never dreamed of her dying. That there were secret 
 stabs and wounds given in the name of discipline, that 
 there might be slow spiritual and mental starvation 
 that sapped both body and mind she did not consider. 
 She justified herself in her own course, she had even 
 made it a matter of conscience. She had resolved 
 to sacrifice her own ease and comfort that did not 
 look like wishing the child out of the way. If Dell 
 had followed her mother, there would have been 
 small lamentation, but now they were all bound to
 
 THE MEASURE OF COURAGE. 209 
 
 make the best of it if there was any best, she thought 
 grimly. 
 
 How long it was before morning dawned ! Dell alter- 
 nated between restlessness and stupor. Before it was 
 barely light Miss Sherburne roused Julius, and de- 
 spatched him for the doctor. Surely Dell should receive 
 all needful care. 
 
 The rain ceased, though the sky was full of low-lying 
 clouds. A curious something pervaded the house. She 
 would not entertain any dismal presentiments. Of course 
 the child would get well. She was overtired, she had 
 been tremendously excited, and run wild while in New 
 York. She was strong and healthy. 
 
 While she was waiting for breakfast, Miss Sherburne 
 completed her accounts with a sort of secret dismay. 
 There was no discrepancy. No sum, small or large, 
 was missing. Perhaps she might have forgotten to en- 
 ter some amount. Where else could Dell have obtained 
 the money? It was bitter, indeed, to think of a thief in 
 an unstained old family ; and it was equally mortifying 
 to imagine that she should have guessed wrongly. 
 
 She did not realize how far she had allowed her preju- 
 dices to sway her. She would have been truly shocked 
 had the scales fallen from her eyes. Her life had been 
 severely upright. She had loved her own with undenia- 
 ble tenderness. She would have made any sacrifice for 
 them. And under certain conditions she could have 
 been gracious to Lyndell 
 
 Then a sudden scream roused her. 
 
 " Take me away," Dell cried frantically. "Take me 
 to my own dear Mamma Murray ! " 
 
 Dinah rushed upstairs, unbidden. Cassy was strug- 
 gling with the poor girl, who had again leaped out of 
 bed. 
 
 "Pore chile! Pore lamb! Her han's is all burnin' 
 up wid fever. She's an awful sick chile, an' no mis-
 
 210 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 take!" And the stronger woman carried her back to 
 bed. But Dell seemed to feel Miss Sherburne's pres- 
 ence, and raved like a wild creature. The poor lady 
 was quite distraught. She went down on the porch, and 
 awaited the coming of the doctor with the utmost anxiety. 
 
 Dinah soothed the child and bound plantain leaves on 
 her wrists and feet, the remedy in which she placed un- 
 bounded faith. Cassy bathed her throbbing temples, 
 and presently she subsided into unquiet moanings, as she 
 lay with her eyes half open. 
 
 "That's the doctor! " cried Cassy, as she heard the 
 tramp of the horse's feet. 
 
 Dinah looked and nodded her head with serious sig- 
 nificance.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 
 
 Miss SHERBURNE went forward to meet Doctor Carew. 
 He was a man of fine presence, shrewd but kindly eyes, 
 and a rather humorous expression of face. He had 
 known Edward Sherburne and considered him a foolisli 
 young fellow, to throw upliome and adoring relatives for 
 the sake of one girl, when there were so many delightful 
 girls in the world. He had been extremely sorry for his 
 death before the breach was healed. He had a very 
 strong feeling that the widow and child should be 
 brought home, but, as all the family seemed agreed on 
 the opposite course, he was not called upon to advise. 
 Mr. Sherburne's illness had rendered him incapable, later 
 on, of taking any important step in the case. 
 
 Sympathy had certainly been on the side of the 
 family. Leonard Beaumanoir was a great favorite, and 
 it seemed a shame that such a fine young fellow should 
 be crowded out of Sherburne House. After Lyndell's 
 arrival an impression had gone abroad that she was not 
 quite presentable, that there was low birth on the one 
 side and questionable associations ; that she was indeed 
 quite a savage, and must be tamed before she could be 
 allowed much liberty. Miss Carew had been over to 
 call, but she had not seen the child. The doctor was 
 too much engrossed to pay attention to neighborhood 
 gossip. 
 
 Now Miss Sherburne made a few brief explanations 
 concerning the child's wild journey, at which the doctor 
 gave a rather prolonged ejaculation that partook of the 
 
 211
 
 212 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 nature of a whistle. She cited the fatigue, the ungov- 
 ernable temper, the utterly undisciplined nature, and the 
 result, which was a fever. 
 
 They slowly ascended the stairs. The child was 
 tossing restlessly, and though her eyes turned a moment 
 toward the strange figure, she evinced no comprehen- 
 sion. He stood there gravely, testing temperature and 
 pulse, making examinations into her apparent physical 
 conditions. Her flesh was flabby, and she showed great 
 depression. 
 
 "Looks like a rather serious case," he announced 
 quietly. " Do you know if there was violence used to 
 compel her to return ? ' ' 
 
 " Mr. Whittingham did not mention any such pro- 
 ceeding," she answered indifferently. 
 
 "Whittingham ! Oh, yes ; he is one of the executors." 
 And the doctor resolved to see him. " It is brain fever, 
 and she has had some shock upon a rather enfeebled 
 physical state." 
 
 " Doctor, she has the strength and energy of a dozen 
 children, the rudest sort of health." 
 
 " She may have had she hasn't it now. There is not 
 as much to work on as I should like. Still, we will do 
 our best. I should advise you to cut her hair she will 
 lose it in any event. Who is to do the nursing?" 
 
 Dell had moved a little. She suddenly opened her 
 eyes wide, and they encountered Miss Sherburne. Ut- 
 tering a wild shriek, she sprang into Cassy's arms. 
 
 "Take her away!" she cried, in a terrified tone. 
 " Take her away ! She will shut me up in the dark! " 
 
 The doctor motioned the lady aside and soothed Lyn- 
 dell, gently laying her down again. 
 
 "That is nothing uncommon," he said reassuringly, 
 as a spasm of undefined terror seized Miss Sherburne. 
 
 " Oh, doctor," she cried, " you will save her, you must 
 save her ! Have everything, do everything to the utter-
 
 JN THE VALLEF OF THE SHADOW. 213 
 
 most. You believe that none of us desire to profit by 
 her death?" She must rehabilitate her conscience by 
 this protest. And if the child went on accusing her of 
 murder ! 
 
 " My dear madam, we know all you Sherburnes too 
 well. Do not excite yourself. You will be of more 
 importance outside the sick-room. As for the nurses 
 there must be two " and he considered the women be- 
 fore him. 
 
 " Ef you want a fus'-rate borned nuss," said Dinah, 
 who knew she could not leave her important post, " dar's 
 dat Lizzy Jackson. She went over to old Madam 
 Archer's, an' dey couldn't say 'nuff 'bout her. She's 
 jes* as good as a doctor hisse'f at de quarters." 
 
 "Lizzy? Yes, I have seen her. She is an excellent 
 hand. I'll go down to the quarters myself and see her, 
 if you have no objection," to Miss Sherburne. 
 
 "Oh, doctor, is it anything contagious? She may 
 have caught some disease in her headlong rushing 
 about." Miss Sherburne's countenance was rilled with 
 dismay. 
 
 " There will be no contagion," decisively. " It is not 
 even typhoid fever. But we shall need the most exact 
 attendance. I wish we had a system of trained nurses. 
 There must be two regular attendants, and one to re- 
 lieve." 
 
 " Have Lizzy, then, by all means." 
 
 "I will be in again this afternoon. Meanwhile 
 And sitting down he took out his medicine case. Then 
 he ordered ice for her head, and gave some minute di- 
 rections. 
 
 " You will find her alternating between stupor and 
 delirium. Do not excite her in any manner, she has no 
 strength to waste. Now "to Gassy, " follow directions 
 implicitly." 
 
 Then he went over to the quarters and engaged Lizzy
 
 214 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 for the night nurse. His patients were far apart, and he 
 was on the go all the morning, around the byroads. As 
 he was driving through Ardmore he encountered Mr. 
 Whiuingham just closing his office door. 
 
 " Jump in and allow me to drive you home," said he. 
 " I have a matter of importance to discuss." 
 
 Mr. Whiuingham acquiesced. As soon as he was 
 seated the doctor made his startling announcement. 
 
 " I want some enlightenment. The child, from phys- 
 ical indications, ought to be strong enough to throw off 
 any ordinary attack. This is serious, and I find her 
 greatly prostrated. Indeed, her fight through will de- 
 pend on how good a constitution she has back of her. 
 And no child of that age ought to have brain fever ! 
 What about these New York people ? Daring pro- 
 cedure, wasn't it?" and he laughed in spite of his 
 anxiety. " We should have thought it plucky for a 
 boy ! " 
 
 Mr. Whiuingham was very much astonished. 
 
 " Nothing happened there unless it \v;is excess of 
 emotion. She had the good sense to know she must re- 
 turn, and I doubt even if there was any persuasion used. 
 The Murrays are kindly, large-hearted people." Then 
 Mr. Whiuingham went generously over the past, and 
 the love they had given an unknown and apparently 
 friendless child. 
 
 " I see, I see ! " and the doctor nodded energetically. 
 " So that made the change a severe one for her but 
 there are nearly always children at Sherburne House. 
 What have they been doing all summer with her? " 
 
 " She has been kept closely at her studies too 
 closely, I think. There was a governess until a week or 
 so ago." 
 
 " You don't mean that child came fresh from a school 
 where they had been cramming her to the utmost, 
 and has had no respite all this long, warm summer?
 
 AV THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 215 
 
 \Vell, well ! I don't wonder at the brain fever. Is she 
 a slow scholar? " 
 
 I think her unusually intelligent. She is shrewd, 
 humorous I do not know as I can quite make you 
 comprehend " and the lines of the speaker's face 
 settled into perplexity ; "but Mrs. Murray is like a big 
 sister to the children. They are wonderfully good too, 
 ready, obliging, gay-tempered, and are not much gov- 
 erned by rule. The discipline at Sherburne House has 
 been rather strict." 
 
 The petty persecutions, the confinement, extra tasks 
 and deprivations Mr. Whittingham was too honorable to 
 mention. They were so unlike anything he had associ- 
 ated with Miss Sherburne that they seemed a sort of 
 temporary madness in his mind, roused by her disap- 
 pointment, and having the newcomer so different from 
 her own family. 
 
 " One can dimly guess at the scene after you left," 
 and the doctor laughed. " It was a daring step, but it 
 seems to me a child made ordinarily comfortable would 
 not have ventured upon it. Of course it was an im- 
 mense disappointment to them all. I never approved of 
 Ned's short-sighted marriage, but I have a feeling that 
 if they had forgiven the young couple and brought them 
 home he would be alive to-day. I can see Miss Sher- 
 burne is very nervous, ultra-conscientious about the 
 child dying on her hands. Theme for some curious 
 mental processes, Whittingham," and the doctor gave a 
 short laugh. " We never know quite what we are capa- 
 ble of until some lightning flash reveals the villain in us." 
 
 " But you will do your utmost," gasped Mr. Whitting- 
 ham, fixing his startled eyes on the doctor. 
 
 " I should do my utmost for a beggar, although I felt 
 certain he must starve six months hence. In an emer- 
 gency I shall send for Caswell ; city people get a much 
 Avider range of practice."
 
 216 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " And you consider her critically ill? " Mr. Whitting- 
 ham said, in a retrospective way, as if he could hardly 
 believe in the opinion he had listened to a moment or 
 two ago. " The whole matter has been wrongly man- 
 aged. There has been too much friction, too much an- 
 tagonism. And yet, Carew, you know Miss Sherburne 
 too well to think she would be hard or sharp deliberately. 
 It is from a mistaken idea. And Miss Lyndell is a little 
 outside the ordinary." 
 
 "And kicks over the traces?" The doctor nodded, 
 with a half-humorous light in his eyes. 
 
 " 1 shall insist upon her being sent to school as soon 
 as she recovers," the lawyer said nervously. 
 
 "School!" The doctor raised his brows. "There 
 won't be much school for her the next six months. 
 Still, she does look as if she possessed a fine physique. 
 And I'm obliged to you, Whittingham, for the light 
 you have let in upon the subject. I can go on surer 
 grounds." 
 
 "And you will try your utmost?" The buggy had 
 halted before the lawyer's residence. 
 
 "Try? Well, though we all have a secret sympathy 
 with young Beaumanoir, none of us I take it want con- 
 structive murder on our consciences. Good-day." 
 
 "Poor child," the doctor mused softly. "One can 
 understand how thirsty she must have been for one 
 draught of the old love, to go all that distance for hugs 
 and kisses. Miss Sherburne is a woman of fine honor, 
 too. But it is a kind of playing at stepmother business, 
 and that doesn't come easy to many women. There 
 must be some divine grace in it. I wish I could take 
 Neale over there presently' to set things a little straight. 
 But just now it is only to fight with that tremendous un- 
 seen force we call disease." 
 
 When he went back about mid-afternoon he picked 
 up Lizzy, to see for himself what effect she would have
 
 AY THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 017 
 
 on the sick girl. He found Dell in the midst of a raging 
 paroxysm. She had opened her eyes suddenly and seen 
 Miss Sherburne standing by her, he learned on question- 
 ing Cassy. "My child," he exclaimed with a gentle 
 kind of peremptoriness, "my child, you must be quieter. 
 There," placing his arm gently around her, "it is all 
 right now. See, you are safe, quite safe." 
 
 " Oh, papa Murray ! " she cried, hiding her face on 
 his broad chest. "Do not let them take me away ! I 
 don't want any of their fortune. I just want you and 
 mamma and Con and Tessy. Oh, you do love me !" 
 in a tone of piercing entreaty. 
 
 " Love you? Yes, my child." And he gathered her 
 in his arms with a tender pity. 
 
 " I'm so tired, so tired," she moaned. 
 
 He soothed and quieted her. Then he beckoned Lizzy 
 to come nearer. Dell looked at her out of dull, fever- 
 glazed eyes, but evinced no repugnance. 
 
 " You will watch her at night, having some one within 
 call, and now I must give you directions. Do not fail 
 in a single particular. Remember, a life depends upon 
 it!" Then he explained the remedies and their fre- 
 quency, the necessity of not allowing her to waste any 
 strength in wild exertion that could be prevented. 
 
 Lizzy listened intelligently and asked a few questions. 
 Dell dozed off, muttering now and then. 
 
 " Cut her hair as soon as possible," said the doctor. 
 "Take the time when she seems in the deepest stupor. 
 Use plenty of ice. And remember all directions." 
 
 Miss Sherburne he found very much worn and de- 
 pressed ; and his kindliest sympathies were aroused. 
 
 "You must go out and take the fresh air, and have 
 some diversion for your mind, or you will be ill. We 
 must all hope for the best." 
 
 To a certain extent Miss Sherburne was a conscien- 
 tious woman, but she possessed a narrow, justifying con-
 
 218 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 science. There were people who would have treated 
 Lyndell more severely, she felt certain. After all, she 
 had not said half the things she intended. Yet the accu- 
 sation troubled her. She had no real proof, she felt 
 within her soul. Still, she had read guilt so clearly in 
 Dell's face, and where else could she have obtained the 
 money? If she had found it anywhere, it was her duty 
 to set about discovering the owner at once. Certainly 
 she had committed a grave fault. 
 
 Cassy was sent to bed that night. Dinah came in and 
 laid on the lounge, and Miss Sherburne went to one of 
 the spare rooms, for she was really suffering from loss of 
 sleep. Dell was very restless, but Lizzy managed beauti- 
 fully. She crooned to her in a low, soft voice, hymns 
 with a plaintive strain ; she talked and soothed. 
 
 But the next day told too plainly that the struggle 
 would be an unusually severe one. The fever ran very 
 high, the intervals of stupor grew longer, and yet it was 
 not sleep, but a sort of drowsy unconsciousness. She 
 said little that had any coherence, though she seemed 
 always aware of Miss Sherburne's entrance, and would 
 shriek out in terror. It angered her that Dell should ex- 
 hibit such a violent antipathy, even when not in posses- 
 sion of her normal senses. But she urged the doctor 
 continually to use his utmost efforts. He could see she 
 was in the grasp of a terrible dread ; indeed, he felt that 
 the child's death would be a severe blow to her, little as 
 she really liked her. 
 
 So passed a week, with no change for the better. 
 Cassy and Lizzy were excellent nurses, and Dinah was 
 on hand to fill any breach. The fever ravages were 
 fearful. Dell grew thin by the hour. Her eyes were 
 sunken, her lashes and brows seemed as if stuck in wax 
 rather than a normal growth. Doctor Carew's heart 
 sank within him as he noted many unfavorable evi- 
 dences.
 
 IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 219 
 
 Now and then she begged piteously for Mamma 
 Murray. 
 
 " Do you think we had better send ? " Miss Sherburce 
 inquired tremulously, one morning. 
 
 She would not recognize any one, and her foster- 
 mother's grief might prove a dangerous thing. You see, 
 now and then she takes me for papa Murray, as she 
 calls him. No, it is not worth while to send at present." 
 
 Doctor Carew had mailed an account of the case to 
 his friend Caswell at Baltimore, who approved of the 
 treatment. But at length he begged him to come 
 and remain one night, the crucial night, it seemed to 
 him. 
 
 " She must have some sleep," the newcomer said, " or 
 she cannot hold out much longer." 
 
 "Anodynes are useless," was the reply. 
 
 " Then we must proceed to extremities." 
 
 All night the two men watched, noting every feeble 
 respiration, and counting the moments of wide-eyed 
 wakefulness. Miss Sherburne would not leave the next 
 room, where she sat in a tense strain of anxiety. The 
 hours wore on. The shrilling of the countless insects in 
 the thickets grew slow and slower, then died out. The 
 air was moist and sweet. There was no moon, but the 
 stars seemed to hang low in the heavens in unwonted 
 splendor. 
 
 Dell was so strangely quiet now that it seemed as if 
 death had begun his work. Her pulse was a mere 
 thread. Almost at dawn she roused suddenly. 
 
 "Mamma Murray," she cried weakly; "Mamma 
 Murray ! " 
 
 Doctor Carew motioned to Lizzy, who took the child 
 in her arms. 
 
 "I am so tired, so tired," she moaned, "I have 
 walked so far ! But the money is all safe. Papa gave 
 it to me. Oh, must I go back? "
 
 220 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Then it seemed as if she was gone. Lizzy uttered a 
 low, despairing cry. 
 
 Miss Sherburne stood like a ghost in the doorway. 
 
 " Is it oh, Heaven help me to bear it! " And she 
 wrung her hands. 
 
 "No," returned Doctor Caswell. But it was so like 
 death. There was a faint flutter in her throat as Lizzy 
 laid her down at a sign from the doctor, who adminis- 
 tered a stimulant. Another flutter a languid heart-beat, 
 then she lay motionless, with her eyes closed, the long 
 bronze lashes glittering on her cheek. 
 
 Daybreak looked in at the window. The soft grey 
 was tinged with rose, then mingled with gold and hung 
 in quivering sheets. 
 
 " Keep up her strength with any stimulant that will do 
 it for the next ten or twelve hours. The fever is con- 
 quered. If she can sleep, all will be well. But it has 
 been a hard fight." 
 
 " I will send you over to the station," said Doctor 
 Carew. "You must know how grateful lam. But I 
 had better remain for an hour or two." 
 
 " Remain by all means. Do not let her drop down a 
 moment." Then the two men shook hands. 
 
 Doctor Carew watched her with infinite solicitude. It 
 seemed at moments as if she did really stop breathing. 
 How wonderfully she had changed in less than a fort- 
 night. No one could complain of the superabundant 
 flesh now. Her very nose had sharpened. Her chin 
 was nearly all a deep dimple, and her hands were waxen 
 white as they lay helpless, the fire and strength gone out 
 of them. She drowsed on, now and then opening her 
 eyes wide for a moment or two and seeming to listen for 
 something. 
 
 " Oh," Miss Sherburne said, coming to the door, " will 
 she, live ? Doctor Caswell has gone " 
 
 " We can hardly call it a hope. She has come now
 
 .LV THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 221 
 
 to the crucial test of real strength. But the fever is 
 over." 
 
 There was an expression of intense relief on the lady's 
 face, and her lips quivered, but she could not utter her 
 thanks. 
 
 About ten the doctor took his leave. Dell lay utterly 
 quiet, sleeping a little, but quite indifferent to surround- 
 ing objects. 
 
 In the afternoon when he came he found her in the 
 same state. Her pulse he fancied stronger. 
 
 " You will need to watch her with the utmost care to- 
 night," he said to Lizzy. " If there is any dropping down, 
 give her this at once. Do not leave her for a moment. 
 I have almost made a doctor of you" and he smiled. 
 " I wish I could always be supplemented by as efficient 
 a nurse." 
 
 But that night there seemed a better feeling every- 
 where. Cassy slept on the lounge in Miss Sherburne's 
 room, Dinah being quite knocked up by her half vigils. 
 Two or three times Lizzy was fearful Dell had gone, but 
 the morning found a decided amendment in the strength 
 of pulse. 
 
 " I think now she will pull through," said the doctor. 
 " Do not excite her in any way. Answer her questions 
 simply, without any air of mystery or fear." 
 
 It was almost night when Dell opened her eyes lan- 
 guidly and fixed them on Cassy 's face. 
 
 "I feel so queer," she said presently. "So weak, 
 and what has happened, Cassy? I was going to New 
 York I can't seem to remember 
 
 "You have been ill. But you are going to get well 
 now," replied Cassy, with a smile. 
 
 "Did I come back?" with a perplexed expression. 
 "Oh, yes ; this is Sherburne House and my own room. 
 I feel as if I had been in a dreadful railroad accident and 
 was crushed to a jelly. And I am so tired " piteously.
 
 222 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " Lie still, then, dear ! " soothingly. 
 
 " Some one was here " trying to think connectedly. 
 " Was it oh, it wasn't Mamma Murray ? And she sang 
 as mamma used to the babies an Irish croon, she 
 called it, but it was so sweet." 
 
 " Lizzy has been here. Lizzy from the quarters, nurs- 
 ing you. And Dinah." 
 
 " It must have been Lizzy." Then Dell fell asleep 
 again. 
 
 After that day she had only to get well. Yet it was 
 odd how party spirit had again stirred the household 
 and the quarters. If young Missy, who, so far, had 
 taken no hold upon any one's affections, should die, 
 Mas'r Leonard would sure come into his own. The 
 stories of Dell's escapade and her Northern friends had 
 been wildly exaggerated, until the child came to be 
 wrapped around with a sort of mysterious influence be- 
 witched fairly. There was not the rejoicing that would 
 naturally have been given to a favorite, yet a great strain 
 was lifted. 
 
 No one felt this so intensely as Miss Sherburne. She 
 gave most fervent thanks, and they were honest, sincere. 
 Lyndell's death would have laid a heavy burden on her 
 conscience. She could not resolve to her own satisfac- 
 tion why this should be so, it was one of those unsolvable 
 mysteries. Surely she had tried to do her duty to the 
 uttermost, confident in her own judgment. That she 
 might have taken the orphan girl to her heart, and 
 Jearned to love her in making her welcome, did not seem 
 any conscientious obligation. She had begun by putting 
 herself in bitter opposition ; by taking up a heavy bur- 
 den unjustly laid upon them all by her nephew's wilful 
 step. It was to be borne with the heroism of martyrdom. 
 And how often we stretch ourselves on the cross of 
 prejudice, and suffer from spear thrusts, when all could 
 have been avoided by one clasp of tender love, of the
 
 7A T THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 22$ 
 
 divine charity that does not make a bulwark of the 
 " suffering long," but is simply " kind." 
 
 She stole softly into the room the next morning while 
 Dell was asleep. Yes, there had been a great change. 
 She would not have known the child elsewhere. The 
 roundness, that to her mind savored of vulgarity, was 
 gone. The fine clear skin was like marble. She noted 
 now the lengthened, almond-shaped eyes with their long^ 
 curling lashes and blue-veined lids, the small shell-like 
 ear, the white throat into which the chin gradually sloped. 
 True, the mouth was wide, but she remembered that 
 Dell's teeth were fine and regular. 
 
 The child stirred. Was it the curious inward con- 
 sciousness of the glance ? She opened her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, go away!" she cried, in affright. " Go> 
 away ! " 
 
 Cassy sprang to her side. Miss Sherburne walked 
 stiffly into the next room, and unconsciously paused be- 
 fore her dressing table, where her eyes fell upon her own. 
 pale, disturbed face. 
 
 It seemed to her distorted mental vision that she had 
 held out an olive-branch of concession, which had been 
 rudely thrust back. That Dell was hardly restored to 
 her proper mental state she did not take into account. 
 She felt hurt, angered, and swung back to her olden bit- 
 terness. 
 
 " There is a race antagonism," she said to herself. It 
 had, since the freeing of the slaves, become a sort of 
 shibboleth to excuse lifelong prejudices. " I shall do 
 my duty by her, of course, but it would be folly to dream 
 of anything nearer." 
 
 She had really hoped, through the delirium, that the 
 child might explain unconsciously how she came to find 
 the money. But beyond a few references to it, the subject 
 had not seemed a haunting one. No person was any 
 wiser. And though her faith was somewhat shaken in
 
 J-J4 SHERBURKE HOUSE. 
 
 her first suspicion, what else could she think until Dell 
 saw fit to confess ? 
 
 The correspondence between herself and Mrs. Beau- 
 manoir had been almost daily. The latter was confident 
 of the child's recovery. Miss Sherburne felt now that 
 she had unduly alarmed herself. She wrote to her niece 
 that all was progressing favorably, and that it might per- 
 haps be as well to take up the matter of the governess. 
 The Beaumanoir family would remain all the month at 
 Atlantic City, where Mrs. Lepage expected to join them 
 on her return from Europe and accompany them home, 
 when she would make a visit at Sherburne House, pre- 
 paratory to settling herself in a home of her own. Miss 
 Burtis had resumed her duties. If this Mrs. Fanshawe 
 proved to be the proper person, it would be as well to 
 engage her. __ 
 
 Then Miss Sherburne restored the household to its 
 usual orderly routine. Dinah was excused from further 
 attendance, and indeed she was quite glad to get back to 
 her own department and the entertaining gossip of the 
 quarters. That Missy had come through such an awful 
 illness was nothing more nor less than a miracle of the 
 Lord. 
 
 " Dar ain't no look now for po f Mas'r Leonard," and 
 she shook her head lugubriously. " Not dat anybody be 
 wantin' Miss Dell to die, but eft bin de Lord's will, 
 we'd all bowed our heads like bulrushes in de storm. 
 Seems queer dat ar little gal from furrin parts, an' no- 
 body knowin" who her mudder was, should come in an' 
 be missus here, but so 'tis, an' ol' Miss, she take it very 
 gran' and fine, but I see it go deep. But ef ebber enny 
 one done der dooty, it jest was ol' Miss. Dar ain't notin' 
 on her conshuns. She hab de doctor day an' night, an' 
 todder big doctor frum Bolt'more, and Lizzy nebber 
 takin' her eyes offen her at night, ner Cassy by day, an' 
 I jus' done beat out. Rudder cook in de kitchen fer a
 
 AY THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. ".> 
 
 month solid den bein' called up any time o' night. 
 Notin' like good reg'lar sleep for folks. But Miss Dell, 
 she jus' done squeeze tru, and dat a fact.. An' she look 
 ies' like a ghost. Curis' where all de fat go to ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. 
 
 DELL lay in a delicious state for days, sleeping 
 most of the time, for nature now made large de- 
 mands to recruit her wasted forces. She smiled a 
 little at the doctor, she knew Cassy and Lizzie, and that 
 was quite enough. They fed her, they bathed her face 
 and hands with aromatic water, and changed her pillows 
 now and then, and she was supremely content. The 
 disease had left her too weak to think. 
 
 But one morning she put her hand to her head. 
 
 "O Cassy!" she cried in affright. "Has my hair 
 been cut? Who did it?" 
 
 " Dear Miss Dell, the doctor ordered it. And what 
 was left is all falling out. You see the fever was so 
 high 
 
 " I never was ill before. Has it been long? I can't 
 remember. I came back from the Murraysand I stood 
 there in Miss Sherburne's room and she said or did I 
 dream it, Cassy ?" 
 
 " Don't think about it, dear," the girl said sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Cassy," she began again presently, " I must think of 
 it. It comes out just as you unravel something. Tell 
 me, tell me truly ; did Miss Sherburne ever lose any 
 money ? Was any ever taken from her drawer ? For 
 I am sure she said ' ' 
 
 Dell began to flush with excitement. 
 
 "I do not think she ever really missed any oh. 
 Miss Dell, don't go so wild, and you so weak." 
 226
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. 227 
 
 " Cassy, do you think I would take Miss Sherburne's 
 money? " she asked, with feverish eagerness. 
 
 " No, Miss Dell, I really do not. There, dear " 
 in a pleading voice, with her soft intonation. 
 
 " I am glad some one believes in me," and she gave 
 a long, dry sob. "And I did not find the money in 
 the house or very near it. I don't believe it is Miss 
 Sherburne's! When I get well I shall hunt for the 
 real owner." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Dell, the doctor said you were not to be 
 excited." Cassy 's alarm touched her. 
 
 "Was I delirious?" Dell asked presently. 
 
 " Yes. But you were not very coherent. And you 
 said nothing about that. So, if you had died, you 
 would have kept your secret." 
 
 " Did they think I was going to die ? " Dell asked, 
 startled. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Dell!" implored Cassy. "But you've 
 come through now, and you are going to get well if 
 you will be a little careful. Oh, please do! " 
 
 " I want to get well," she returned slowly. " I want 
 to live to be a woman. I have thought of so many 
 things to do. And the world is so beautiful. It would 
 be hard to lie in the cold, dark grave," and she shud- 
 dered. 
 
 " You must not say another word. Drink this and go 
 to sleep," entreated Cassy. 
 
 Dell took the draught, but she could not sleep. By 
 degrees every part of her brain was roused. She 
 picked up dropped ends she reunited broken threads, 
 and presently thought in a tolerably direct line. Of 
 course she came to that terribly unjust accusation. If 
 Miss Sherburne had missed the money, she would have 
 made inquiries before. But to call her a thief ! 
 
 Dell's training had been frankly simple, wholesome, 
 .and unconventional. They were expected to be as fair
 
 228 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 and honest with each other at the Murrays as with their 
 parents. It was not a system of continual looking for 
 faults and disbelief in all higher qualities. Densie be- 
 lieved her children the best children in the world, and 
 when they fell below her standard, her sorrow was such 
 a poignant thing to them that they hastened to make 
 amends. And looking at it in the clearer light, a great 
 misgiving throbbed through the weakened pulses. She 
 had been wrong all the way through. 
 
 Late in the afternoon the doctor came in. 
 
 "Hallo!" he said, studying her pulse and the trou- 
 bled light in her eyes. " What have you been doing, 
 Undine ?" 
 
 "What did Undine do?" she asked, with a faint 
 smile. 
 
 "Well, she was happy enough until she found her 
 soul. Then there was no end of trouble. Who has 
 been worrying you ? You are to have only a body for 
 the next fortnight." 
 
 " No one. At least I asked Cassy some ques- 
 tions." 
 
 " And tumbled yourself up and down, poor Pilgrim ! 
 Do you know that doctors have a sort of wicket gate 
 where people can drop their burthens? Why, I've a 
 great closet full of other people's troubles." 
 
 Dell gave another faint little smile. " I have been 
 very ill," she said presently. 
 
 "Yes. We made quite a big fight for you. And 
 though you are a little battered and worn, as is natural 
 after such a tussle, you are coming out all right," de- 
 clared the doctor humorously. 
 
 " Yes I want to get well. I have never been ill 
 before." 
 
 "Oh, you do? Well, I wasn't quite sure a few days 
 ago. However, that settles the point. Now we must 
 have no more slipping back. You have been thinking
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THE E ADS. 2->9 
 
 in French and Latin, and up and down the scale, and 
 now you need not think at all. Did you ever see a bird 
 dozing on a limb in the warm afternoon sunshine ? " 
 
 " 1 don't know " returned Dell slowly. 
 
 " Well, he is the most comfortable-looking thing alive. 
 He takes a good grip of the limb, hunches up his 
 shoulders, drops his head a little, half shuts his eyes, and 
 the wind rocks him to and fro. It may rain the leaves 
 off the trees next week, it may blow and snow next 
 winter, his children may clamor for food next summer, 
 but he has a good time now. He isn't going to make 
 to-day lap over into the future years." 
 
 Dell laughed, with a sense of amusement. 
 
 " And I wouldn't lock up my knapsack until I really 
 came to the bridge. You might want to take some 
 old things out, and put some new ones in." 
 
 "What bridge? And what do you put in the knap- 
 sack?" 
 
 "Do you know anything about the old Egyptians? 
 Well, they had some very good ideas. When a man 
 died he had to walk over an extremely narrow bridge. 
 Now, you see, if he wasn't well balanced it was rather 
 critical. Then his soul had to be weighed in one scale 
 and his good deeds in another, and if his good deeds 
 went up to the beam he had to come back and start 
 down at the foot of the line in a pig, maybe." 
 
 "Why, that's transmigration," said Dell, with un- 
 wonted interest. 
 
 "Yes. Well, there is some of it still in the world. 
 We cross the bridge here bridges of different kinds, and 
 God lets us begin over again just where we made the 
 last mistake. And you may be sure there is some work 
 for us to do. Pretty soon you may look up yours, but 
 you can have a few weeks' rest." 
 
 "Oh, I wish you could stay and talk "and Dell's 
 eyes brightened. A faint glow tinged her pallid face.
 
 230 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 He shook his head. " A doctor's time is worth a good 
 deal. It would bankrupt you. But when you get stronger 
 you might go out driving with me. The time spent in 
 going from place to place is not so profitable ; I could 
 afford you some of that. And now you are to be a good 
 girl and try to get well. We are to press forward, you 
 know." 
 
 Dell stretched out her thin white hand. " I like you 
 so much," she said frankly. 
 
 " We will call this the beginning of good times. Now 
 you must sleep and eat, and walk across the room and 
 not worry about next year. There is the bird, you 
 know." 
 
 "Yes," answered Dell cheerfully. 
 
 And surely there was no reason for not improving. 
 Such soups and dainties as Dinah made, such care as 
 Cassy bestowed upon her ! Miss Sherburne exercised 
 sufficient Christian charity to come in and wish her good- 
 morning and good-night, but there was an intensified, if 
 unspoken bitterness between them. 
 
 She grew stronger, she sat up in the great easy-chair, 
 was pushed over to the window and watched for the 
 doctor, who was always cheery and amusing. Still the 
 old wish would haunt her if she could only go away ! 
 One day she picked up the hand-glass. 
 
 " O Cassy," she cried in dismay, " do I look like that ? 
 How horribly thin I am ! And my eyes are so big and 
 so hollow underneath. And no hair to speak of! I 
 wasn't pretty before, but I am a horrid fright." 
 
 " Everybody looks so after a severe illness. Once 
 Miss Millicent was ill a long while and she looked worse 
 than you, she was so dark and sallow." 
 
 " But she's beautiful now," returned Dell, with a sort 
 of coveting longing in her voice. " I don't suppose I 
 can ever be pretty. You ought to see Tessy Murray. 
 She's just like a bright wild rose. And mamma was
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. 231 
 
 beautiful, but at the last, when she was so thin and white, 
 she did look a good deal as I do now." 
 
 Dell was wiping away some tears when a well-known 
 step sounded on the stairs. 
 
 " Hi ! " ejaculated Doctor Carew. "What's all this 
 rain shower about? " 
 
 "I look so horrid!" Dell answered, trying to smile 
 through the mist. "Oh, will my hair ever get beyond a 
 stubble ? and my eyes are like wells or caverns, and I am 
 shaky and miserable! " 
 
 " Hear the sage of Craigenputtoch : ' When a man is 
 miserable, what does it most of all behove him to do ? 
 He has to know that being miserable he has been un- 
 wise.' Now for the unwisdom. Did it arise from look- 
 ing out on the sunshine?" 
 
 "No-o," admitted Dell. 
 
 "Well, take a good look. There's a fine bit of sky up 
 there between the trees. And look at the elm and the 
 hemlock nodding across the blue background. The sun- 
 shine is put in as a harmonizer between the green and 
 blue. And over yonder there is a long line of it on the 
 grass, and I dare say the little green blades cuddle up to 
 it lovingly." 
 
 " But do you suppose I shall look so woebegone a great 
 while?" she inquired anxiously. 
 
 " That depends. You may, if like the old woman you 
 fret to 
 
 Skin and bone and bone and skin, 
 
 And leave no place for the fat to creep in. 
 
 And are you not a little ungrateful ? " 
 
 "Ungrateful?" in surprise. 
 
 " I had counted on making a show patient of you. 
 I thought people would soon be saying why, there's 
 Miss Sherburne, who was at death's door only a little 
 while ago, and now she is round and rosy as a winter
 
 ;_>:;:> SHEBBUENE HOUSE. 
 
 pippin. What an excellent physician Doctor Carew must 
 be!" 
 
 There was such a twinkle of fun in his eyes that she 
 laughed. Then she said remorsefully : 
 
 " I wasn't thinking about the credit I owed you, when 
 you have been so kind. I must try." 
 
 "Tears are not a fattening diet. And worry makes a 
 crease in your forehead. Fretting is apt to spoil one's 
 voice as well as one's temper. It's the sunshine that 
 warms us all up and turns everything to gold." 
 
 "Oh," she said delightedly, "you are like papa 
 Murray. He wouldn't let us be cross or have the 
 dumps. And he was so merry." 
 
 " I suppose it was flattering to be taken for him ; an 
 interesting mistake you fell into at first. And I have a 
 great respect for Mamma Murray, who was able to fill 
 the heart and soul of a motherless, little girl with so much 
 love." 
 
 Dell was studying the doctor. " Oh, you are a little 
 like him," she said delightedly. " He is not quite so 
 stout. And he has lovely blue eyes that laugh, and can 
 look so gravely sweet, and make you feel so sorry when 
 you have been naughty. And I can never be Dell Mur- 
 ray any more. I feel changed. I am another girl, 
 Lyndell Sherburne. And all my life is different," she 
 said, with regretful pathos. 
 
 " Well, Miss Sherburne, if you moisten your bread 
 with tears you will find it a poor staff. And I shall feel 
 tempted to cross you off my books." 
 
 " Oh, doctor, please don't," she pleaded beseechingly. 
 
 He was holding her hand, when there was a soft rustle 
 of a woman's gown and step in the adjoining room. 
 Some indescribable sense of alarm or aversion sped 
 through her pulses, and she seemed to cling more closely 
 to the strong hand she held. 
 
 "Ah," thought the doctor, "all is not clear sailing."
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. 233 
 
 " You see she is improving," said Miss Sherburne, in 
 her well-bred, rather formal tone. "Do you not think 
 she might be taken out soon for a little drive? The 
 weather is so exceptionally fine." 
 
 " She hasn't the strength just yet. And now she must 
 go back to bed. Plenty of sleep, plenty to eat, and 
 nothing to think about until we get her sound in body 
 again. There, my child, good-morning to you. Study 
 the sunshine." 
 
 Miss Sherburne foll^ved the doctor downstairs. 
 
 "Of course," she said, "there can be no doubt now 
 about Lyndell's recovery." 
 
 "Not unless something new occurs," returned the 
 doctor dryly. 
 
 " And there can be no thought of contagion ? " 
 
 " Hardly with brain fever." 
 
 "The Lepages are coming to stay for awhile. They 
 have always spent part of the autumn here. There are 
 two large girls and the baby, but they will have the oppo- 
 site side of the house. Still, I should want to be quite 
 certain of no danger to them." 
 
 " There cannot be the slightest, in the nature of things. 
 When do they propose to come?" 
 
 "This has always been a home to them," said Miss 
 Sherburne insistently. " My brother was very fond of 
 his grandchildren. Of course there need be no disturb- 
 ance for Lyndell. She will be kept quite apart." 
 
 " A little companionship of her own age and kind will 
 not prove any detriment to her," said the doctor rather 
 testily. "In a few days she may be able to be taken 
 down on the porch in the sunshine." 
 
 "The Beaumanoirs will shut up their house at Atlantic 
 City and return home next week. The Lepages came in 
 from Europe on Saturday. Indeed, I have not seen my 
 niece for eight months, and I think, as a family, we 
 Sherburnes have a strong regard for each other."
 
 234 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "And a change will be an excellent thing for you," 
 returned the doctor cheerfully. He noted how much 
 thinner she had grown, and the careworn lines settling 
 in her face. " Have them, by all means." 
 
 Yet, as he drove away, he could not help thinking of 
 the little girl so unceremoniously set aside, whose rights 
 were scarcely considered ; who was looked upon in tl:c 
 light of an alien and not made altogether welcome. He 
 leaned much more toward Mr. Whittingham's estimate 
 as time went on. He was broad%enough to see that it 
 was hard for both sides, but Lyndell could not help be- 
 coming their thorn in the flesh. To punish the child for 
 it was cruelly unjust. 
 
 Mrs. Lepage had been as incredulous and as deeply 
 prejudiced as Miss Sherburne. She had gone abroad 
 quite convinced that she should be able to detect or un- 
 earth some fraud. But she had had every clue traced 
 only to prove its truth, and establish the pure, retiring, 
 and courageous character of her brother's wife. Then 
 there was a hope that the child might have met with 
 some untoward fate ; indeed, it seemed hardly possible 
 that they could have been in America four years, and 
 not presented their claim. And when the facts were 
 really established, Mrs. Lepage took it more bitterly 
 than Mrs. Beaumanoir. 
 
 She was met by her sister in the city, who came up to 
 do some shopping, and to look after Mrs. Fanshawe. 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir secretly hoped that she would find 
 her objectionable. She had an obstinate faith that Dell 
 would recover, and she decided upon the school, though 
 from different motives from Mr. Whittingham. She had 
 lost the slight sympathy she had experienced for the 
 child. Dell's wild escapade and the question of the 
 money shocked her immeasurably. Like Miss Sher- 
 burne, she could see no other solution to the mystery. 
 
 The danger for Dell was practically over when she
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. 235 
 
 went up to the city. But it had hardly been appreciated 
 by any of the family except Miss Sherburne. And ti>;it 
 lady was secretly shocked at the indifference of Mi-. 
 Beaumanoir, when she was really suffering from certain 
 conscientious misgivings and nervous fears. 
 
 When the sisters met, the subject was all engrossing. 
 What the child was really like, what present rights sl.c 
 had in the place so long considered a family home, and 
 what could be done with her. 
 
 " Dear Aunt Aurelia," said Mrs. Lepage. "She is such 
 a good, conscientious woman, and she has all the old 
 family pride intensified by the almost isolated life she has 
 led. The idea of worrying about the recovery of that 
 miserable child, making it a morbid point of conscience 
 lest any one should accuse her of not doing her whole 
 duty ! Because her death would be our gain, she is too 
 nervously sensitive to contemplate it with any composure. 
 But such children live through everything. And no 
 doubt her delirium was half temper." 
 
 " Doctor Carew is not much of an alarmist. And he 
 had a friend down one night. She was very ill, no 
 doubt ; but she is a great, rugged child with a positively 
 oppressive personality. I think she will wear out Aunt 
 Aurelia. I insist that she shall be sent to school. 
 Auntie has some idea that she can best humanize and 
 civilize her, but it will prove a futile undertaking. And 
 now she is so anxious for me to learn what kind of a per- 
 son this governess, a Mrs. Fanshawe, is. She must have 
 come over in the steamer with you. She had charge of 
 the Eustis girls ! " 
 
 Mrs. Lepage uttered an exclamation of astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "Why, how did you come to hear of her? Irene 
 Eustis is to be married to a very wealthy gentleman liv- 
 ing up the Hudson, at Hyde Park, I think, and Emily 
 is to enter Vassar. This Mrs. Fanshawe is a charming
 
 236 SHEEBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 woman, well-born, well-connected, whose family lost all 
 during the war, and .later her husband died. She is 
 thoroughly well educated, and has a good fund of com- 
 mon sense. If we were settled, I should like to have her 
 myself." 
 
 " The word came through the Whittinghams." 
 
 " I do not suppose this child's sickness can make any 
 difference in our staying at Sherburne?" Mrs. Lepage 
 said inquiringly. "You see we shall not be able to get 
 into our Washington house before the 1st of January, 
 and I had planned to spend the intervening time at Sher- 
 burne. We certainly have the right to visit Aunt Au- 
 relia. It is her management and wisdom that have 
 brought up the estate from the devastation and depres- 
 sion of the war. And papa was feeble so long. I al- 
 ways said auntie had the business head of the family, 
 and she has her rights in the place. This newcomer 
 cannot turn her out ? " 
 
 " Everything is to go on just the same until Miss Lyn- 
 dell comes of age. And your visit will be a perfect god- 
 send to aunt. She has worried over this matter until 
 her nerves are worn threadbare, and some one must 
 help her to take a common sense view of the case. We 
 are not going to crowd out Edward's child, and no more 
 than our duty is required of us. You and the girls can 
 spend a week or two at Beaumanoir until the house is 
 put in safe and proper order. Brain fever is not an in- 
 fectious disease," and Mrs. Beaumanoir laughed. 
 
 " The wonder is that she had brains enough to be af- 
 fected ! " returned Mrs. Lepage rather sarcastically. " It 
 just occurred to me that if you could persuade this Mrs. 
 Fanshawe to accept, it would be an excellent thing for 
 the girls all the autumn, and relieve me of present anx- 
 iety concerning them. I do not care to give them more 
 than one finishing year at some stylish school, since they 
 are not to be physicians or professors. I am rather old-
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. -:-:J7 
 
 fashioned in my notions, and still believe in marriage. 
 Yes, let us engage this Mrs. Fanshawe, if we can." 
 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir considered seriously. While she 
 had explained the escapade, she had said nothing about 
 the missing money. Certainly they should be put or 
 their guard. If the child had these fearful, despicable 
 habits, others should not run the risk of being wronged. 
 Dishonesty, pilfering, was a greater sin in her estimation 
 than the sudden act of an ungovernable temper. She 
 had been thoroughly shocked by Aunt Sherburne's ac- 
 cusation, and only the intervention of Dell's illness had 
 prevented her from flying at once to Sherburne and tak- 
 ing a hand in the attempted reformation of this misguided 
 girl. It had hung over her with such a horrible night- 
 mare influence that she would have been relieved to hear 
 of Dell's death. Had Miss Sherburne explained that, 
 while her suspicions remained the same, she had been 
 unable to verify them, Mrs. Beaumanoir could better 
 have understood her anxiety for the child's recovery. 
 But she had written no word, not even given the vaguest 
 hint, although she had begged her niece to say nothing 
 to the children. 
 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir confided the wretched story to her 
 sister, who was not less horrified. Yet what solution ap- 
 peared more natural. She had wheedled some money 
 out of Mr. Whittingham, and the remainder must be 
 secured by any means ! She might even have persuaded 
 herself that it was in one sense her own money. 
 
 "What miserable training the child must have had ! 
 What you tell me, Laura, convinces me that the best 
 thing I can do will be to spend some time at Sher- 
 burne. I am not afraid of my own girls. Indeed, the 
 Sherburnes have always been scrupulously honest, 
 think any one of us would sooner cut off our right hand 
 than take what did not belong to us. And my children 
 have been trained to abhor and despise dishonesty. I
 
 238 SHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 can see now why Aunt Sherburne is not willing to have 
 her sent to school. She would disgrace us in no time. 
 O Laura ! why should this terrible misfortune be sent 
 upon us ? How could Edward have been so blind ? " 
 
 It was settled then that they would look up Mrs. Fan- 
 shawe and make an arrangement with her, and that Mrs. 
 Lepage, having opportunities to study Lyndell, could 
 reach a more decisive and perhaps truer conclusion than 
 Aunt Sherburne was able to. Upon that would depend in 
 a large degree the young girl's future training. 
 
 Meanwhile Sherburne House was being made ready 
 for the coming guests. These two rooms in the L could 
 be kept so entirely separate, and Edith's favorite part had 
 always been the front of the main house, her girlhood's 
 apartment. Nancy swept and shook and dusted, brought 
 out curtains and rugs from the great cedar press, beat up 
 and aired pillows and blankets, took the Chinese vases 
 out of the wide fireplaces, for soon the evenings would 
 begin to grow cool. There was a pleasant excitement 
 about it all that broke the tense strain under which Miss 
 Sherburne had been living. She felt the need of the com- 
 panionship of her equals. And what course to pursue 
 with Dell was a sort of overhanging terror, night and day. 
 The child shrank from her, looked away when she en- 
 tered the room, answered her questions in a cold, con- 
 strained tone. These were suggestions of a mind ill at 
 ease, perhaps guilt. She did not dare accuse her again ; 
 she was afraid of discussing the point in her weak state. 
 She longed to set Cassy at work in unraveling the mys- 
 tery, but she was too innately proud to descend to this 
 kind of familiar equality with a servant. She had asked 
 Cassy if Dell had thrown any light on the subject during 
 her ravings, and she felt confident that Cassy would in- 
 form her of any half-confession the child might make. 
 The next steps could not be taken at present. 
 
 Cassy informed Dell of the preparations. She had
 
 GATHERING TANGLED THREADS. -J39 
 
 heard about her cousins before : Harry and Gitibrd, 
 growing into young manhood ; Ethel and Alice, twins of 
 ;i little past fourteen, and the baby, as Florence was still 
 called, a lovely child of nearly five. The boys had been 
 spending the summer with their cousins at Atlantic City, 
 the girls had been abroad with their parents. Now the 
 boys were in school. 
 
 Dell dreaded the arrival of guests, especially girls of her 
 own age. It seemed to her, as Cassy said, that all the 
 Sherburnes were handsome. Hitherto it had been a 
 matter of no moment whether she was dowered with good 
 looks or not, but suddenly she had become unduly sensi- 
 tive. She studied her thin face surreptitiously, feeling 
 more and more disgusted with the Staring, sunken eyes, 
 the pallid lips, the forlorn head with its fuzzy, scanty crop. 
 No, never before had she looked like this ! The doctor 
 might recommend bright thoughts and plenty of sunshine, 
 but oh, of what avail was the sunshine when one's heart 
 was so heavy, and what could satisfy her sad, aching, 
 hungering soul. 
 
 Still, she improved. Dinah carried her down on the 
 porch in the sunshine one day, and she lay there noting 
 the early autumn changes, and drinking in the fragrant 
 air, being gently wooed to a happier frame of mind. 
 
 Just then the Beaumanoir carriage drove up. The 
 family had returned and Miss Sherburne was sent lor, 
 as Mrs. Lepage was impatient to see her. It was a 
 tiresome, uneventful day ; for no one came, not even the 
 doctor, who no longer made regular daily calls. 
 
 For the next three days it rained not continuously, 
 but much of the time, a depressing drizzle. Dell heard 
 all of the news there was to tell. Mrs. Fanshawe, the 
 new governess, had come and was to instruct the twins 
 from now until Christmas, when they would take posses- 
 sion of the new house Mr. Lepage was fitting up at 
 Washington.
 
 i>40 SHERBURNE HOUSE, 
 
 "And I do hope you will soon be able to resume your 
 lessons." said Miss Sherburne. 
 
 It seemed to Dell that this was the crudest touch of a 
 cruel fate. She crept into bed a most miserable girl, and 
 comforted herself with bitter weeping.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. 
 
 " NEALE," Doctor Carew said to his sister that same 
 dismal evening, as they sat together in the old home- 
 room as it had been called for half a century, " Neale, 
 I have a bit of work for you to take in hand." 
 
 She was a fair, delicate woman of fifty or thereabout, 
 with a soft pink in her still rounded cheeks, beautiful and 
 gracious curves to the lips, a rather long neck, around 
 which lay a cloud of soft illusion tied on the breast with 
 a pale lavender ribbon, and the ends crossing fichu-wise. 
 Her hair, rather thin, light, and now a little threaded 
 with silver, was a mass of lovely waves, Nature's gift. 
 She wore a tiny square of lace, the point drooging to the 
 forehead. Her figure had always been slim and it still 
 preserved an exquisite pliancy and roundness. She sat 
 in her high-backed chair, her slender fingers busy with 
 some knitting, odd little shells for a counterpane. She 
 glanced up with a soft, inquiring smile, and said, "Well ? ' ' 
 
 " I want that little Sherburne girl over here for a week 
 or so perhaps longer. I want you to comfort her, and 
 cuddle her up, and get some human warmth in her 
 soul." 
 
 " The child that ran away ? " 
 
 ".Yes. She is not doing as well as she should." 
 
 " What is the trouble? " Cornelia Carew glanced up 
 with a sympathetic expression, that, her brother always 
 said, would coax the secrets out of a stone. 
 
 " There are a good many troubles. First, no one re- 
 alizes how weak and shaky her nerves are ; I do not be- 
 
 241
 
 242 SHERBUBNK HOUSE. 
 
 lieve they can understand how ill she has been. She is 
 utterly friendless and alone. Then the Lepages are 
 coming to-morrow, two bright, pretty girls the twins 
 with their heads full of Europe and everything. Miss 
 Lyndell is certainly shorn of what little good looks she 
 may have possessed. Yet she has beautiful velvety 
 brown eyes and long bronze lashes, and a broad, fine 
 forehead. I think her face is noble. It may be grand 
 sometime, but it will never be called pretty. When she 
 is not so deadly thin she must have some dimples, al- 
 though hers is more of a cleft chin. The contrast with 
 health and joyousness will be hard to bear." 
 
 " I heard she was extremely plain. And beauty is 
 something of a Sherburne heritage." 
 
 " If I had my way every woman should be handsome," 
 cried the doctor vehemently. "Then the plain ones 
 could not be made miserable by their more fortunate 
 sisters ! At first she seemed stout and suggestive of 
 coarseness, now she is thin and suggestive of misery. 
 She dreads these visitors there is much that is inhar- 
 monious between herself and her aunt, and she is not 
 getting well. Her future health depends upon her entire 
 recovery now ; her usefulness as well, for if she drops 
 into a nervous, easily depressed state, she will be a terror 
 to those around her, and a burthen to herself. It is a 
 case of unfriendly atmosphere. Change is positively 
 necessary." 
 
 "But could you manage it without giving offence? 
 Of course the child's being in the world was a great 
 disappointment to them, and if she is out of har- 
 mony " 
 
 " I think no one has tried to draw her within har- 
 mony," said the doctor rather gruffly. " But I will do 
 Miss Sherburne the justice to say that she absolutely 
 fought for the child's life in all outside influences. Still 
 the child seemed in mortal, deadly terror of her, and de-
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. 243 
 
 clared in her delirium that she hated her. She firmly 
 believes that the whole family grudge her her very 
 life." 
 
 " O Randolph, how terrible ! I think Miss Sherburne 
 is trying her utmost to be fair." 
 
 "The trying is so palpable. The unfairness also. 
 Can't a child tell when those around are unfriendly? I 
 am sure a dog can. But the Murrays loved her passion- 
 ately. Think of their keeping her four years just like 
 one of their own. Why, there must be something attract- 
 ive about her. She has a strong will and a great deal 
 of repression ; then she is wonderfully frank on the other 
 side, a sort of tangled up compound, that the years only 
 can bring into harmonious lines." 
 
 " But how will you be able to arrange it ? If she were 
 poor or friendless it would be easy enough." 
 
 " I shall attack the fortress and take the measure 
 thereof. Not being on the witness stand, you see I am 
 not compelled to confess the whole truth " and the hu- 
 morous twinkle came into his eye " so I shall save my 
 own skin. I have been wanting to take her out to drive, 
 but the days have been so wretched. And to-day she 
 had dropped down to nothing, indulged in unlimited 
 tears, and I had not the heart to scold her. But a 
 change she must have. And we have taken patients in 
 before to be comforted and medicated." 
 
 " Generally the friendless." 
 
 " Why, there was Mrs. Tryon ! " 
 
 Miss Carew laughed. 
 
 " You know she would have taken us to Europe, en- 
 dowed us with fortunes anything. I never saw a more 
 grateful soul." 
 
 " Randolph, we have always been friends with the 
 Sherburnes. It will not do to offend them." 
 
 " Well, do you consent ? " rather testily. 
 
 "Why, of course. I must confess I should like to
 
 244 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 know something about the child. I have not even seen 
 her yet." 
 
 "They have considered her a sort of barbarian," he 
 said dryly. 
 
 Then the doctor took up his magazine again. Miss 
 Neale resumed her knitting, and thought of the child to 
 whom the summer had proved so eventful. 
 
 The home-room was a curious conglomerate of com- 
 fort. It was large, with a western and southern ex- 
 posure, cheerful with windows, bright in cold weather 
 with a fire of logs in the immense chimney. In the 
 centre was the doctor's big desk-like table, that had in- 
 numerable drawers and was always littered with books 
 and papers. There was an old-fashioned bookcase, a 
 sort of cabinet escritoire filled with what we now term 
 bric-a-brac, a roomy sofa, a piano, and Miss Neale' s 
 corner. Here was her workstand, the table for her 
 lamp ; a bracket that always held a bowl of flowers 
 winter and summer. 
 
 Connected with this by a short passage was the reg- 
 ular office. On the other side a parlor, dining-room, and 
 kitchens innumerable stretching out gardenward. The 
 house stood a little on the outskirts of Ardmore, and had 
 a thicket of woods, a rather ruinous old orchard still 
 yielding some choice fruit, and a kitchen garden. Here 
 Miss Cornelia had lived all her life ; here the doctor had 
 brought his sweet young wife, an orphan then and in del- 
 icate health, and after the birth of her son she had faded 
 away like a snowdrop. Then the two had gone on their 
 apparently uneventful way, but their names had become 
 household words, as they had become the friends, of 
 many a household. 
 
 She was wondering a little about this child, who had 
 been the object of many a gossip and much warm argu- 
 ment. Now and then she had been seen at church, but 
 nowhere else. The opinion had gone abroad that she
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. 245 
 
 was not presentable, that there was something about her 
 worse than disagreeable to the Sherburnes. Callers had 
 not been able to inspect her. Visitors knew of her being 
 in her own room in disgrace, and she, rather than the 
 family, had suffered by the vague mystery. 
 
 Miss Carevv had studiously held herself aloof from the 
 gossip, but, like many others, her sympathy was given 
 to the Sherburnes. The doctor had exceeded his usual 
 reticence during the earlier part of Dell's illness, when 
 there was much anxiety as to its final termination. Lat- 
 terly he had been rather confidential to his sister, and 
 had uttered more than one denunciation on the manner 
 in which the child's physical well-being had been en- 
 dangered. But she was startled at this proposal. 
 
 The next day the doctor was at Sherburne House early 
 in the morning and laid his plans before its mistress. 
 She was more than surprised. 
 
 "What she wants," he said, in a determined sort of 
 fashion, "is entire change. She is not as well as she 
 was three days ago." 
 
 " But you agreed that she needed companionship. 
 You thought the visit of my nieces would tend to rouse 
 her. And I am anxious for her to get back to her 
 studies. We have a most excellent governess en- 
 gaged 
 
 "Studies!" interrupted the doctor fiercely. "She 
 must not do a bit of studying for three months to come, 
 unless you want to ruin her health." 
 
 Miss Sherburne stood amazed. 
 
 " Doctor," she cried, " you said she had a strong con- 
 stitution. And she was too robust. She had a boy's 
 vigor and strength." 
 
 "You have changed all that, my dear madam. Re- 
 member, you have given her no vacation the whole sum- 
 mer. She had been used to the largest liberty, to a kind 
 of athletic school training, and you have kept her too
 
 246 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 much confined. Naturally, girls of her age d not run 
 to brain fevers." 
 
 " But she was so behind in everything, so untrained, 
 so " Miss Sherburne paused in vexation. 
 
 "You have no right to train her health away. She 
 is not much beside a bundle of nerves now, and if you 
 want a nervous, irritable, headachy girl on your hands 
 for the next two or three years, to be sent away finally 
 to some cure-all establishment, then you may urge her 
 to get well and take up her studies. Why, she wants 
 to be out of doors all next month ; she ought not so 
 much as look at a book ! And just now she is naturally 
 sensitive about her personal appearance. When you 
 place her in contrast with your blooming nieces, it will 
 depress her beyond measure. She will shrink into her- 
 self, grow silent, indifferent, morose. No, you had bet- 
 ter let me take her for a fortnight or so. I shall have 
 her out with me daily. Neale will cuddle her up like a 
 hen with one chick. And you can enjoy your visitors 
 without an anxious moment." 
 
 "It certainly is an extraordinary proposal, doctor! 
 Really, you seem to doubt our doing her justice here. 
 She has the best of care " 
 
 " Still it is not the right kind. The change of air and 
 scene will do more for her than anything else. You can- 
 not medicine the low, nervous depression, the shrinking 
 from everybody, the over-sensitive brain that has already 
 endured a terrible tension. And you certainly will enjoy 
 yourselves better without her." 
 
 " Still I am not in the habit of shirking my duties," 
 she returned haughtily. 
 
 " Then take up this one squarely. If the child re- 
 covers thoroughly, comes back to her normal health, 
 there will be no trouble later on. Work her a little too 
 hard now, try her shattered nerves too heavily, and to- 
 ward spring you will be journeying around in search of
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. 247 
 
 recuperation. And what is it but a neighborly visit? 
 You can see her every day." 
 
 " Doctor, there are certain yes, you force me to say 
 it grave faults in the child " 
 
 " I'm used to faults and tempers. I'll risk hers. She 
 needs a doctor's constant oversight for the next fortnight, 
 to be kept cheerful, to be tranquillized, to have no sort 
 of urging or strain. I think you will be sorry if you re- 
 fuse this. And you know my sister will take the best 
 care of her. I'll promise you there shall be no running 
 away." 
 
 Miss Sherburne was dazed. She seemed like one 
 waking from a dream. To allow Dell to go out of her 
 hands with her secret unconfessed 
 
 " I must think this over and perhaps take some ad- 
 vice " She hesitated, and cast about vainly for a 
 
 weightier argument. 
 
 " No one can advise you better than I on this sub- 
 ject," he said, with grave kindliness. 
 
 She felt that this was true. 
 
 " Neale is coming over to call on Mrs. Lepage I 
 think I will bring her to-morrow. And you will have de- 
 cided by that time." 
 
 Miss Sherburne could ill brook interference in any of 
 her cherished schemes. She had a fancy that no one 
 save herself could govern Lyndell. Yet she was forced 
 to admit she had not succeeded very well so far. But 
 she meant to persevere. 
 
 She went up to the invalid's room presently. 
 
 Lyndell," she said, unaware how her voice sharp- 
 ened, " Lyndell, the doctor seems rather disappointed 
 about you. Are you making any effort to get well? 
 And your cousins" she must say it, though she 
 grudged the child the relationship " will be here to- 
 day. I thought they would help to amuse you. And 
 you could drive out with them."
 
 248 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 "They will not like me," returned Dell, with curious 
 apathy. " And they are well and happy." 
 
 " You must get welt As for happiness, that is in your 
 own hands. If you are going to be perverse and cave 
 for no one " 
 
 There was a little sob. Dell was using her utmost ef- 
 forts not to cry. But now that the passion found 
 vent, she wept hysterically. She was so weak and 
 miserable. 
 
 " Lyndell," said Miss Sherburne more gently, " what 
 can I do for you ? " 
 
 " Nothing, nothing! only to leave me alone " and she 
 turned her face to the wall. 
 
 Miss Sherburne obeyed her, angered by the repulse. 
 
 The load of trunks and boxes came over just before 
 noon, and both families about mid-afternoon. It was a 
 lovely day, with a suggestion of Indian summer in the 
 hazy, red atmosphere. Lyndell listened to the gay 
 greetings, the joyous tones, the trooping up and down, 
 and her heart swelled with bitterness. 
 
 " Miss Dell," Cassy said, entering the room, " do you 
 not want to sit up and let me arrange your gown pret- 
 tily ? They would all like to call on you. And the 
 Beaumanoir children are anxious to see you." 
 
 "I can't see any of them I positively can't !" she 
 declared, trembling with terror. " I know I am a fright ! 
 And they will come in to criticise me no, I will not en- 
 dure it. You may tell them all! If they come I will 
 cover my face with the sheet. I will not speak a word." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Dell " 
 
 " No, no, no ! " cried Dell passionately. 
 
 " I think Miss Dell must be worse," Cassy announced, 
 returning from her fruitless errand. " She does not feel 
 able to sit up or to see any one." 
 
 "Why, I thought she was getting well so rapidly-!" 
 said Mrs. Beaumanoir in surprise.
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. 249 
 
 "I don't know what to make of the child. She is 
 obstinacy personified ! " replied Miss Sherburne. 
 
 So the young people had a merry time with but little 
 thought of the poor girl upstairs, whose rights or feel- 
 ings were so slightly considered. Their pleasure came 
 first. 
 
 Dell somehow slept very uneasily that night, and 
 awoke unrefreshed. Her breakfast went down almost 
 untasted, and there was a dull ache everywhere. 
 
 But Miss Sherburne was not to be outgeneraled by a 
 peevish whim. She brought Mrs. Lepage and the two 
 girls into the room, as soon as Dell was dressed and 
 sitting up by the window. 
 
 "This is your Aunt Lepage, Lyndell," she said im- 
 pressively. "And these are your cousins Ethel and 
 Alice. I did hope you would soon be well enough to 
 take some pleasure in their society." 
 
 Lyndell flushed and her lips quivered, but she uttered 
 no word. The twins glanced at each other with a sort 
 of polite astonishment. 
 
 "You have been very ill, we heard," began Mrs. 
 Lepage, with a touch of gracious stateliness. 
 
 She was tall, and somehow reminded Dell strongly of 
 Miss Sherburne. Her silken morning gown was a dull 
 crimson, with a profusion of cream lace and ribbons in 
 both colors. An elegant diamond ring sparkled on her 
 shapely hand, and there was about her a something im- 
 posing and grand that quite filled Dell with dismay. 
 The girls she barely glanced at. They were fair, with 
 light hair beautifully crimped, and soft pink cheeks ; 
 lovely, slim hands, and altogether, Dell was extin- 
 guished. 
 
 "You really must try to improve," she continued. 
 "It is quite discouraging to your good aunt, who has 
 been so anxious about you." 
 
 Dell's eyes filled with tears. She made strenuous
 
 250 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 efforts to keep them from overflowing. These critical 
 glances seemed to pierce at every vulnerable point, and, 
 indeed, it appeared to her sensitive, shrinking nerves as 
 if every point was utterly defenceless. Oh, would they 
 ever go ! She must scream or throw herself out of the 
 \\indow in her desperate agony. They were talking 
 among themselves. The sound rang in her ears, the 
 words were a jumble of confusion. 
 
 "What a horrid fright!" declared Mrs. Lepage, 
 when they were downstairs again. "And certainly 
 stupid ! Why, she does not answer a question with 
 common politeness. She looks wretchedly, not at all as 
 if she were recovering." 
 
 Miss Sherburne was troubled at this remark. 
 
 " Doctor Carew is not so sanguine as he was. He 
 wishes to take her for a fortnight or so and see what he 
 can do." 
 
 "Oh, let her go, aunt, by all means. Such a woe- 
 begone face is enough to give well people the horrors. 
 And I am afraid you never will reap much gratitude for 
 the devotion you have given her. Laura and I both 
 think her a most unpromising specimen. She has not a 
 good face, say what you will. And it is an awful shame 
 that she is ever to be mistress here. But there life is 
 uncertain. We cannot tell what will happen in seven 
 years." 
 
 " You think you would let the doctor take her? " 
 
 Miss Sherburne asked this with a feverish eagerness. 
 
 " Why, certainly. She is fit for nothing, and only a 
 sort of marplot here. We shall all feel more at ease 
 without her. Sickness is so depressing." 
 
 It was almost noon when the doctor drove over, lie 
 had a lady in the buggy some one to call on Miss 
 Sherburne, Dell supposed ; as they lingered so long. 
 She was all in a quiver when he came up, so full of 
 suppressed excitement that she leaned her forehead
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. x>r,j 
 
 against his breast and cried as if her heart would 
 break. 
 
 "My child," he said, "my poor little kitten, what 
 has gone amiss with you? I want you to hearten up, to 
 listen to some news but may be you won't like it, and I 
 have fought lions, almost, to bring it about. Come, 
 cheer up a bit. Do you really wish to hear it ? " 
 
 Dell raised her thin white face, still wet with tears. 
 
 " I am going to carry you off to my den. I have per- 
 suaded the powers that be, how absolutely necessary it 
 is, if they want you to recover. And I have brought 
 over my sister, so you will not be afraid to venture." 
 
 "To go away?" gasped Dell. "To go anywhere 
 out of Sherburne House ! It kills me. It is like a great 
 weight coming down on me, and I feel crushed. Oh, 
 will you really take me? " 
 
 She was sobbing now for pure joy. He chafed the 
 cold hands that trembled so in his warm, strong touch, 
 he laid his rough cheek against her throbbing brow, and 
 it seemed to still the tumult in her brain. 
 
 " Oh when will you take me ? " she cried eagerly. 
 
 "To-morrow, perhaps, or next day. And then you 
 will be cared for and cuddled and made much of. for 
 my sister is an angel. And I shall do the scolding when 
 I am roused, for I have the temper of a fiend." 
 
 Dell gave a weak, amused little laugh. 
 
 "What would rouse you?" she asked. " I ought to 
 be warned before I am decoyed into your den." 
 
 "Oh, you are not so near dead as I thought ! " und 
 the doctor's eyes twinkled. "Your not getting well 
 might, when I have taken so much pains with you. 
 Your running away would, of a surety. I am under 
 bonds for your safe keeping." 
 
 " I shall never run away again," and her voice came 
 through tears. " I shouldn't have the courage. And I 
 promised papa Murray."
 
 2.V2 SHEBBUENE HOUSE. 
 
 " Well, if he can trust to your promise I think it will 
 be safe for me. And now, have you chirked up enough 
 to see Miss Neale ? For I must go, but she is to stay to 
 dinner." 
 
 " And I look so dreadfully " But the doctor had 
 
 gone to summon her. 
 
 Dell always remembered the soft, harmonious woman, 
 svlio seemed almost to float into the room, clad in tender 
 lavender grey, with a cloud of fine illusion around her 
 neck. She was tall and rather thin, but oh, how beauti- 
 ful she looked to Dell, as the eyes of shady violet blue 
 studied hers, and the sympathetic hand took the one so 
 limp and thin. The voice had a suggestiveness of music. 
 
 "This is Miss Neale," announced the doctor. " And 
 you are to be the best of friends." 
 
 "Oh! " and Dell gave a long, long sigh. It seemed 
 to her that she was glad she had come to Sherburne 
 House just for the chance of meeting Miss Neale. 
 
 " You poor little girl ! You see the doctor wants you 
 under his eyes for awhile, so he can keep you up to the 
 mark. You think you will not get homesick ? " 
 
 "I couldn't be homesick with you," Dell said 
 frankly, smiling up in the sweet face. 
 
 The doctor had to rush away. Miss Neale sat beside 
 Dell and stroked her hand, talking in the low, soft tone 
 that was so tranquillizing. Dell's heart throbbed with a 
 glad bound. 
 
 The dinner bell rang, and Miss Neale kissed her 
 softly. She remained in a blissful dream. Was it true ? 
 What magic had been used ? Were they really alarmed 
 about her ? 
 
 When Cassy came up with her dinner she was 
 strangely startled. At first it seemed as if Dell was dead, 
 so white and wan did she look. Her head had dropped 
 a little, but she was only asleep. Delight had proved 
 an excellent sedative.
 
 A ATM' ATMOSPHERE. 2f>;{ 
 
 As Cassy stood there, a fervent pity crept into her 
 heart for the child. Had she been fairly treated ? 
 Surely she had not thrust herself among the Sherburnes ! 
 She had not wanted to come. Perhaps it was this utter 
 lack of appreciation of her position that had been sucli 
 a thorn in Miss Sherburne's side. Her continued regard 
 for the Murrays for though she might be forbidden to 
 mention them in health, all the passionate fondness of 
 her nature had overswept the bounds in her delirium. 
 She had begged for kisses with such piteous entreaty. 
 "Take me in your arms, Mamma Murray, I am so 
 tired!" had been her beseeching cry. And Lizzy's 
 tenderness had soothed her in her wildest moments. 
 
 Surely Miss Sherburne loved her Beaumanoir nieces 
 and nephews, and the twins were great favorites with her. 
 Florence sat upon her lap, and put her dimpled hands 
 up to her auntie's chin caressingly. It was not because 
 she was incapable of love, or that the springs of affec- 
 tion had been dried up by the hand of passing years-. 
 Had Dell unwittingly hit the truth when she said they all 
 hated her ? Perhaps she would have been gentler, had 
 the others been really kind. 
 
 She roused then, and half smiled up in Cassy's sym- 
 pathetic face, almost completing a victory. 
 
 "Can't you eat a little dinner, Miss Dell?" she 
 asked persuasively. 
 
 " No, Cassy. Or I might eat just one peach. I am 
 sleepy and want to lie down. Who was here! O 
 Cassy, the doctor's sister! What a lovely face she 
 has! And her voice takes you to heaven's very gate. 
 I wish if I had only been related to them! After all. 
 I don't believe I care very much for Sherburne House." 
 
 She had risen while she was saying this, and Cassy 
 steadied her steps as she walked over to the bed. She 
 was tired and sleepy, she had passed such a restless night. 
 
 Certainly Dell's fortune had been taken at the flood.
 
 254 BHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 Miss Sherburne had gone around in her little circle un- 
 til, on every side, the wall seemed higher and more un- 
 yielding. She had morbidly magnified her office, and 
 her rigid faith in her own opinions had been gaining 
 ground under isolating influences. 
 
 But these more modern women, while they might be 
 less conscientious, had a broader outlook. They pro- 
 tested bitterly, and then accepted the inevitable. There 
 was no real reason after all why their lives should be 
 made a burthen for a wayward, obstinate, ill-bred girl. 
 Do the best they could with her, the easiest for them- 
 selves, and their duty was done. So it happened that 
 Mrs. Lepage hailed the doctor's offer with gratification. 
 
 "Let her go, of course, Aunt Aurelia. Miss Neale is 
 in her element when she has a broken-legged chicken. 
 or a sick little darky to befriend. And she does need 
 change of air. You know we brought the twins down 
 here as soon as they could be moved after they had the 
 scarlet fever. A peevish invalid destroys the comfort of 
 a whole house, and there will be guests coming and go- 
 ing, and we want our time for enjoyment. Send her, by 
 .all means." 
 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir took the same view. "You have 
 really worn yourself out over the child," she said. 
 "You need rest and diversion quite as much as she 
 does. Aunt Aurelia, you are ultra-conscientious. The 
 child cannot exceed her own capabilities, do what you 
 will. It is too late to make her over into a Sherburne. 
 It we could have had her four years ago ! But there is 
 no use of bemoaning fate." 
 
 " She will be ruined at the doctor's. She needs the 
 tightest rein. When she comes back, no one will be 
 able to do anything with her." 
 
 "Then pack her off to a good, strict school. If she 
 is stolid and unamiable you can never transform her into 
 an angel. And now that Edith is here, you will have no
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE. >&& 
 
 end of guests. You would not enjoy yourself a moment. 
 Besides, I do not think Doctor Carew over-indulgent 
 to unreasonable, hysterical people. And on the score of 
 looks, she ought to be hidden away somewhere. She is a 
 perfect fright ! " 
 
 " If I thought it really for the best " 
 
 "Think so at once, then," and Mrs. Beaumanoir 
 smiled. "My dear Aunt Aurelia, you are morbidly 
 conscientious. You must come back to a more reason- 
 able frame of mind. We will all help you. And I am 
 extremely anxious to know how you came to suspect she 
 took the money from you." 
 
 Miss Sherburne colored distressfully, and admitted 
 with some hesitation that there was no other way for her 
 to get it. She had even inquired by letter if Miss Hen- 
 dricks had given her any, and had been answered with 
 a very positive denial. 
 
 Yet Mrs. Beaumanoir was surprised at her keeping to 
 her first suspicion on such slight grounds. From her 
 early girlhood Miss Aurelia's business methods had been 
 the admiration of the family. When she took charge of 
 the household she accounted for every penny and made 
 others do the same. Yet she was not niggardly. The 
 open-handed hospitality of the house was a proverb 
 throughout the county. But she exacted a rigorous 
 honesty of the house servants. They were warned 
 when they came in, and the first dereliction banned 
 them forever. They knew appeal would be useless. 
 Still she was extremely careful of putting temptation in 
 their way. While doors stood generously open, valu- 
 ables were kept under lock and key. It was impossible 
 that a woman of Miss Sherburne's methodical habits 
 could have lost any considerable sum without knowing 
 it ; neither could it have been abstracted, and not 
 missed. Mrs. Beaumanoir truly regretted that Miss 
 Sherburne had made the hasty accusation.
 
 J5(; SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " Still I should find some means of compelling her to 
 tell where she really did get it," said Mrs. Beaumanoir 
 decisively. "When she is stronger the matter must be 
 properly sifted. And she must learn that your authority 
 is to be respected. Of course she has had no real train- 
 ing, hitherto." 
 
 So the way was paved for the doctor and Miss Carevv. 
 The ladies had always been friends, though of late years 
 their tastes and beliefs had somewhat diverged. Long 
 before the war freed the slaves, Miss Carew's interest in 
 them had been so outspoken, although not aggressive, 
 that many of her friends classed her with the Northern 
 radicals. The Sherburnes had always believed in an in- 
 ferior race. As Royalists, two hundred years agone, 
 they would have believed in the divine right of kings. 
 
 Miss Sherburne felt herself overruled by circumstances, 
 and her nerves were hardly in the state for obstinate re- 
 sistance. She acquiesced, but there was an internal re- 
 volt. She felt as if she was losing supreme authority over 
 this child, that, somehow, belonged to her, inasmuch as 
 she was Edward Sherburne's child. If she could have 
 opened Dell's veins and let out all her mother's blood ! 
 
 Miss Carew came up afterward to say good-bye, as she 
 was going over to the Beaumanoirs for a call. Dell was 
 asleep. How worn the face looked ; yet it held in its 
 thin lines and sharpened contour a promise of a large, 
 generous soul, if not so much absolute beauty. She 
 pressed her lips to the forehead. Dell smiled, but did not 
 wake. 
 
 " The doctor will come over for her to-morrow," Miss 
 Carew said with her good-bye. 
 
 " The child hasn't a thing to wear but the dressing- 
 gown Cassy made her last week. It seems to me she is 
 inches taller, and so thin that her dresses, even the one 
 or two that might answer, will hang on her. Really, she 
 is in no condition to go anywhere ! "
 
 A XEW ATMOSPHERE. 257 
 
 Miss Sherburne gave a tired, fretful sigh. 
 
 "A couple of flannel gowns will do her at present. 
 White is as good as anything. Or stop I have some 
 blue Cassy can go at that. Then you can send to the 
 city for a few changes ; I dare say she will soon get stout 
 again. It is not wisdom to have too many things for 
 growing girls." 
 
 Mrs. Lepage hunted up the flannel and Cassy went to 
 work. There were visitors, but Dell was not disturbed. 
 She lay in the bed supremely happy and content. It was 
 as if she had gone into a new country. 
 
 " If only it doesn't rain to-morrow," she said to Cassy. 
 
 And it did not. Dell almost sprang out of bed. she 
 was so joyous. 
 
 " I hope you will not make any trouble," Miss Sher- 
 burne remarked as she was looking up a few articles of 
 clothing. " I do not feel safe about your going with no 
 one to look after you, but I really cannot spare Cassy. 
 And she will be busy altering your dresses. Your winter 
 wardrobe must be considered. And there are so many 
 things."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 
 
 THERE was only one thing for Dell. Her heart was 
 as light as a bird. She sat still, although she longed to 
 get up and dance around the room. She hardly heard 
 the voice that yesterday rasped every nerve ; that would 
 now, only the birds of hope were caroling in her brain. 
 She would say no word to offend Miss Sherburne, so she 
 kept silent, and offended her bitterly. 
 
 Not a hint of the charges made upon her return had 
 been broached between them. It certainly was Dell's 
 place to proffer a confession. How to extort a word from 
 one so obstinately bent on silence was beyond her capa- 
 bilities, unless she had plunged into a sea of danger. She 
 did not dare rouse the sleeping lion and make a scene 
 just now. 
 
 But she noted Dell's joy with a curious sense of dis- 
 may. Her eyes were radiant, her lips were falling into 
 half smiles, then suddenly brought to a desperate prim- 
 ness. Surely the child owed ^rlove and gratitude for 
 rescuing her from those wretched surroundings, and 
 again the motley crew under the apple-tree rose before 
 her. She had not sought to cultivate Dell's affection, she 
 had not cared ; but after all, it was a plain duty on the 
 child's part, and she resented the lack of it. These other 
 people, to whom she owed no gratitude, would win her 
 preference tenderness love, perhaps. 
 
 The doctor's carriage came winding around the path. 
 Miss Sherburne went down. Cassy brushed Dell's hair 
 and put on the blue gown, which made her look ghostly. 
 
 258
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 059 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed with a tearful sigh ; " I am hor- 
 rid ! I am glad to be buried out of sight." 
 
 " But your hair is coming in, and it will soon curl all 
 over your head. And I think you will be quite slim. 
 Miss Dell. You certainly have grown tall." 
 
 Dell gave her a grateful little squeeze. Then a sudden 
 gravity overspread her face. " Cassy," she began hesi- 
 tatingly, " I wish you would do something for me. Can 
 you make some inquiries quietly and see if any one 
 lost some money the last of August, maybe. What the 
 sum was, and what the bills were, and all the particu- 
 lars. For I can't think it was Miss Sherburne's. And 
 I want the rightful owner to have it. Do, please. I 
 shall be so grateful to you." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Dell, I certainly will." 
 
 The doctor came in with a merry greeting. He bun- 
 dled her up in a shawl and carried her downstairs, 
 across the porch to the carriage he had taken Miss 
 Neale's phaeton to-day. Dell caught a glimpse of the 
 two graceful girls, Ethel and Alice playing croquet on 
 the lawn. Mrs. Lepage sat in a large wicker chair on 
 the veranda with some fancy work in her hand and 
 Florence dancing about like a beautiful cherub. Miss 
 Sherburne looked stiff and resentful, and Dell felt the 
 unexpressed reluctance. The doctor tucked her in and 
 promised to report the next day. 
 
 " Good-bye," they all said. " Good-bye," she returned. 
 A great wave of satisfaction thrilled through every nerve. 
 
 "You are worlds better this morning," and the doctor 
 smiled down into the pallid face. 
 
 " I am glad to get out of prison." 
 
 I have heard of people who stepped out of the fry- 
 ing pan into the fire." 
 
 " But one may get tired of continual sizzling." 
 
 " Fire is purifying it burns up the waste matter," and 
 the doctor gave her a shrewd, laughing glance.
 
 2(50 SHERBURA 7 E HOUSE. 
 
 " And I am not sure but I have gone a good deal to 
 waste latterly," she said rather demurely. 
 
 " Well, you had the fire of the fever. And it burned 
 pretty fiercely, let me tell you. There were several days 
 when I almost doubted my ability to put out the flame." 
 
 " Was it really so bad as that ? " 
 
 " It was pretty bad, and now I expect you to give me 
 some credit in getting well." 
 
 " I shall try. Oh, I know I shall get well now," and 
 a soft light shone in her eyes. 
 
 But she was very tired presently. The doctor placed 
 his strong arm about her and inclined her head down on 
 his broad shoulder. The soft air and the motion of the 
 carriage soon made her sleepy. Long before they 
 reached Ardmore she had forgotten everything. Indeed, 
 she did not rouse until the sudden cessation of the mo- 
 tion startled her into consciousness. 
 
 Doctor Carew sprang out, then taking the bundle in 
 his arms carried her through and deposited her on the 
 old sofa. 
 
 " Here is a mummy for you, Neale," he cried gayly. 
 " I've invaded the pyramid and carried her off. Whether 
 she knows the secret buried with the corner stone re- 
 mains to be seen. I warn you that Miss Neale is a bit 
 uncanny. She has a way of getting down to the bottom 
 of your thoughts that is quite alarming. You had better 
 hand your secrets over to me." 
 
 Dell smiled. "I have only one," she said, "and 
 should like to hand that over to somebody." 
 
 " Well, we will not trouble about it just yet, so long as 
 it doesn't disturb your sleep. Now I must leave you to 
 the tender mercies of my sister, for I have already 
 wasted a good deal of time upon you. Good-bye, and 
 allow yourself to be made comfortable." 
 
 Miss Neale took off her wrappings, arranged the pil- 
 lows under her head, and then busied herself about her
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 261 
 
 usual duties. Dell was wide-awake now and watched 
 her with a languid but pleasant interest. She was so 
 different from Miss Sherburne. Just about as tall, a 
 trifle stouter, but rounded, pliant, harmonious. There 
 was nothing about her that bristled up. You knew at 
 once you were not likely to stroke her the wrong way, 
 while with Miss Sherburne no way seemed right. The 
 room too, was so restful. It had not the utterly cleared 
 up look of Sherburne House ; and the big table almost 
 groaned under its load of books and papers. But there 
 was space for one splendid autumnal bouquet, wood 
 asters of nearly every shade. The long rays of sunshine 
 almost put out the fire that smouldered sleepily on the 
 hearth. 
 
 "Oh.it is all so nice!" Dell exclaimed with a long, 
 happy sigh. " It feels like home. I used to think there 
 could be no place like Mamma Murray's " then Dell 
 caught Miss Neale's gown as she was passing, and the 
 soft eyes smiled down into hers, the arms enclosed her 
 caressingly. 
 
 "You are so sweet! "and the lonely girl was crying 
 OP. Miss Neale's shoulder. 
 
 The doctor bounced into the room, amazed. 
 
 Hi ! hi ! " he cried. " I thought the sun shone ! " 
 
 "Can't I have a shower, just a pure joy shower," 
 said Dell with spirit. " It's so long since I cried for joy. 
 And when it rains in the sunshine you can find a pot of 
 gold at the end of the rainbow. Mamma Murray said 
 they told her so, when she was a little girl." 
 
 "No one ever went after it but wild geese. As if 
 they wanted money ! " flung out the doctor disdainfully. 
 " Xeale, where is that last review ? " 
 
 Miss Carew put her hand on it at once. 
 
 Thank you." Then he went over and took a look 
 at Dell. Something in the large wistful eyes moved him 
 immeasurably, and stooping over he kissed her.
 
 :><>2 SHEEBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "There, be a good girl," he said in a tone of assumed 
 gayety. " Don't make Miss Neale's life" a burthen." 
 
 All the remainder of the day they had to themselves. 
 Dell sat up by the window and looked out over a new 
 landscape, she had naps innumerable. Miss Carew was 
 in and out, and during the afternoon read her Jean 
 Ingelow's " Songs of Seven." 
 
 "Oh," cried Dell in a tremble of joy ; "how beauti- 
 ful it is. And I thought I did not like verses, only some 
 little songs Mamma Murray used to sing. Why, you 
 can fairly smell the clover, and see the dazzle of butter- 
 flies! " 
 
 Certainly the face was not irremediably plain in that 
 glow of enthusiasm. 
 
 They had a pretty tea together. Sheba, a grave, mid- 
 dle-aged woman who looked like an Egyptian princess. 
 Dell declared, waited upon them with all the perfection 
 of Sherburne House. Dell felt so at home. It seemed 
 now as if she had known Miss Neale forever, and spent 
 weeks in this room. 
 
 It was quite dark when the doctor came in. 
 
 "Hallo!" he cried gayly. "Are you homesick 
 and waiting for me to take you back to Sherburne 
 House?" 
 
 " Do not recall it to mind ! " Dell implored. 
 
 The doctor sat down beside her, felt her pulse, gave 
 her ear a little pinch and asked her some questions. 
 
 " You are certainly none the worse," he said. " 15 tit 
 your day has been quite long enough and you must be 
 transported to your downy couch. Isn't that rather neat 
 for an old fellow like me? You haven't an idea of the 
 nice things I can say." 
 
 " I suppose she ought to go to bed," said Miss Carew. 
 
 " Yes. I'll carry her up while she is such a light weight. 
 It will not do for me to strain my constitution when she 
 begins to gain in flesh."
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 263 
 
 " Oh, I do not want to. I'd rather be thin," returned 
 Dell, with such anxiety that the doctor laughed. 
 
 " You look now as if the crows had made a meal of 
 you and expected to come back and finish the bones. 
 Neale, it will be hardly safe to leave windows open. 
 Well, will you trust me to carry you up?" 
 
 She was borne triumphantly. " Oh," with a soft little 
 ripple of merriment, " how strong you are ! It is ahnost 
 like papa Murray." 
 
 "Come! I warn you I shall be furiously jealous! I 
 can stand Mamma Murray, but to know I have a rival in 
 the grand art of carrying you up and downstairs is too 
 much. There, I turn you over to Miss Neale and leave 
 you to repent of your heinous ingratitude." 
 
 Miss Neale had arranged a cot in her room, so that 
 Dell would not feel lonely. She disrobed her with such 
 soft, lingering touches that each one was like a caress. 
 
 " You are so good to me," Dell said with a little sob 
 just under her breath, as she kissed her. 
 
 " Shall I send up some one to sit with you ? " 
 
 "Oh no. I feel as if I were in fairyland. And I do 
 not want to be a trouble to you." 
 
 " Do not think of such a thing, my dear child." 
 
 Miss Neale went out to the dining-room to give the 
 doctor his supper. He was hungry and for some mo- 
 ments ate in silence. Then he said interrogatively 
 -Well?" 
 
 " She will be no trouble at all, Randolph, and she is 
 so grateful, so frank and honest. I think Miss Sherburne 
 has begun mistakenly, and I do not believe she will be 
 so very plain. She has lovely eyes, and her nose is 
 straight, with a sort of decided character. Children 
 change so much. But she does not favor the Sher- 
 burnes at present." 
 
 "She'll never be pretty, but she maybe extremely 
 fine-looking. It is strange how we are always protest-
 
 2fi4 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 ing against beauty, and how it rules us. The Shei burnes 
 are all a good-looking lot, and for this child to be posi- 
 tively ugly, would be a sort of deformity inherited from 
 her mother. And I shall set about making her hand- 
 some. I always had a weakness for pretty women." 
 
 Miss Neale laughed. 
 
 " Whittingham is coming over on Sunday to dine. ! it- 
 enjoyed the coup immensely. But she would have been 
 months getting well there. Her nerves have had too 
 much strain. And the idea of taking up lessons in a 
 week or two ! What in nature does possess people ! " 
 "Thunder!" he would have said if he had been out of 
 doors, but he had a tender regard for Miss Neale's feel- 
 ings. " She raced over miles of Latin and acres of 
 French verbs, while she was careering in the bed, wilder 
 than a hawk. Doubtless she was pushed to the utmost 
 there in New York, then to be pinned to books all the hot 
 summer talk of cruelty to animals, slaves this is 
 Herodian murder of the innocents, of brain and nerve 
 tissue. Lucky that she came through it at all. And 
 Miss Sherburne is just that sort of twisted up, morbidly 
 conscientious being, that the child's death would have 
 been a thorn in her soul to prick her all her days." 
 
 " Yes, I think she meant to do her whole duty." 
 
 " Your good people are always making a scapegoat of 
 Duty. You see the old Jews were wiser. They bundled 
 their sins on him and let him go out in the wilderness, to 
 shake them off maybe, but we keep him under our very 
 eyes and stumble over him to wound and bruise our- 
 selves. We are willing to do our duty but it must be 
 done within the lines of our own red tape. Where's the 
 dessert? I can't be defrauded of a single right." 
 
 Miss Neale touched the bell. 
 
 Afterward they went back to the home-room, and 
 settled themselves. Miss Neale took up a lapfull of some 
 white stuff that had a bit of rose color here and there.
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 2H5 
 
 " What in the name of wonder are you concocting 
 there? It looks good enough to eat in milk." 
 
 " Rubbish ; " and she laughed. " You must not be so 
 curious." 
 
 He nodded in an odd, humorous manner. 
 
 Dell slept delightfully. When she woke, the room 
 was in a flood of sunshine, the screen beside her keeping 
 it out of her eyes. She felt so bright and well that she 
 almost bounded out of bed. But a great tremble warned 
 her. It was so queer to be weak and helpless in body 
 when one felt so buoyant of heart. 
 
 She did not have to wait long, however. Sheba, a 
 religious mother had been charmed with the high-sound- 
 ing name of Bathsheba, but it was so long ago she had 
 almost forgotten the first part herself looked in at the 
 door. 
 
 " Miss Neale sent me to see if you were wakin' up. 
 Ther's no hurry, Missy." 
 
 " But I would like to get up," said Dell, " if it is con- 
 venient." 
 
 " Yes, any time. Miss Neale busy out in de kitchen, 
 an' if Missy doan mind I'll dress her." 
 
 Missy assented. Sheba's fingers were not quite as deft 
 ?s Cassy's, but they did very well. Then she carried her 
 I'.r-wn to the home-room. 
 
 " Where is the doctor? " Dell asked. 
 
 " Called out airly dis mornin', Missy not mor'n four 
 o'clock. Doctors lib on a kinder jump en' never know 
 how long dey'll be 'lowed in one place." 
 
 Miss Neale entered with a smile and kindly greeting. 
 Her hair was a pretty mass of waves, and over her soft 
 grey dress she wore a large white apron with a bib, that 
 somehow made her look like a great girl. 
 
 I wonder if I am making you too much trouble?' 
 said Dell a little anxiously. 
 
 "You are not to think of that. The doctor wishes you
 
 2G6 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 to have all the sleep you can get. And now Sheba shall 
 bring you in some breakfast. Saturday is a sort of 
 housekeeping day with me, in which I make up the 
 week's shortcomings. How bright you look." 
 
 " I should feel altogether well if it wasn't for a queer 
 shakiness when I make an effort. I never was ill 
 before. " 
 
 " You are weak after all the strain. And the doctor 
 said if you were not tired from yesterday's journey, I 
 could take you out in my phaeton for half an hour." 
 
 " Oh, how delightful ! " Her eyes were humid. 
 
 Miss Neale brought some crocheting and sat opposite 
 while she ate her breakfast. Everything tasted so good. 
 There were some luscious late peaches, and magnifi- 
 cent grapes. 
 
 Dell read a little. She was still bewitched with 
 " Songs of Seven." It left such a lovely rythmical 
 refrain floating in the very atmosphere. And one verse 
 seemed written for her : 
 
 I wait for my story the birds cannot sing it, 
 
 Not one as he sits on the tree ; 
 The bells cannot ring it, but long years, oh, bring it ! 
 
 Such as I wish it to be ! 
 
 Ah, what did she wish it to be? To go back to the 
 Murrays? Did it savor of ingratitude not to long to re- 
 turn to them as she had before? If she could stay here, 
 but Ardmore was not so far from Sherburne House, and 
 as the years went on she might be allowed some choice 
 of friends. Surely she had made a staunch one in the 
 doctor. 
 
 The ride in the phaeton was delightful. Miss Neale 
 had a pretty iron-grey pony, round and sleek, with a 
 beautiful long mane and tail, and so gentle that Miss 
 Neale said if Dell were a little stronger she might take a 
 lesson in driving.
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL, 2G7 
 
 The doctor lived quite at one end of the town. Out 
 beyond there were numerous plantations in various 
 stages of neglect, their owners dead or gone away. 
 Now and then one showed evidence of thrift. There 
 were some small negro colonies, but they were not as 
 orderly as the quarters at Sherburne House. 
 
 "Miss Sherburne is a very uncommon manager," 
 said Miss Carew. "Then too, soon after the war ended, 
 the coal and iron mines were worked and there was 
 money enough to keep Sherburne House properly. 
 Your great-grandfather had the wisdom to see that 
 slavery was ceasing to be profitable even in his day, 
 and that its only chance was in the far South. So your 
 own grandfather was educated with broader ideas, and 
 accepted the change more readily. Still, all the family 
 owe much to Miss Aurelia." 
 
 Was she in any way indebted to her, Dell wondered. 
 Somehow she almost wished Miss Sherburne would not 
 evince so much anxiety. There would be money enough 
 in any event. 
 
 The air was so still that every branch was outlined 
 against the smoky red sky. And oh, what a rich fragrance 
 freighted the air ! It was good to be alive, and Dell 
 said so in her eager, fervent fashion. Surely, she was 
 not a dull or indifferent child. All things seemed to 
 touch her keenly. 
 
 But she was pretty tired when 'Rius, short for 
 Darius, the old factotum who honestly believed the 
 doctor, house and all would go to ruin without him, 
 lifted her out and carried her into the house. She had 
 a good nap on the old sofa before dinner. Miss Neale 
 had been busy sewing over in her corner. 
 
 It was mid -afternoon before the doctor came in, 
 declaring he was tired to death. He had been every- 
 where, even over to Sherburne House to report, and 
 on Monday the young ladies were all to drive in to see
 
 268 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 for themselves how Dell progressed. He had some 
 dinner and shut himself up in his office to take a nap. 
 The bright day had clouded over and the wind rustled 
 and sighed through the pines with a shivering metallic 
 sound. By dark there was a gentle pattering rain. 
 
 But Sunday morning was lovely again, not sunshiny 
 but soft, and with no threatening clouds, the air per- 
 vaded by a moist autumnal fragrance. 
 
 "You will not mind my going to church," Miss 
 Neale said. " I promised to take old Miss Floyd, and 
 it is quite a long drive, so I have to start early. And 
 the doctor was called out. I was to tell you that Mr. 
 Whittingham was to be here to dine, will you mind see- 
 ing him ? " 
 
 " Oh no, I shall like to." 
 
 Miss Carew kissed her tenderly. " Dinah will attend 
 to you this morning," she said. " Every other Sunday 
 Sheba goes to visit her granddaughter, who is living at 
 some distance. But Dinah is very nice." 
 
 There was a cheerful fire blazing on the hearth. 
 Dinah came in with her arms full of various articles. 
 She was quite different from Sheba, more indeed like 
 their own Dinah, with her superabundance of flesh, her 
 black, shiny skin and soft large eyes. A gay turban 
 was wound around her head, but below its edge peeped 
 a few crinkly braided tails, while Sheba's hair seemed 
 to have some Indian admixture in it. Her hands were 
 plump and soft as cushions. Then she had a caressing 
 mammy -like way, so natural to many of the elder 
 Southern negroes. She bathed Dell, put on her stock- 
 ings and slippers, and brushed her hair with an almost 
 magnetic touch. 
 
 " Pity 'bout yeh ha'r," she said with her broad, soft 
 accent. "But mos' allus does come out'n fever. An' 
 yeh bin monst'ous sick. I hear Mas'r Doctor talkin' 
 'bout it. But'll grow out."
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 269 
 
 " I hope it will not be red," said Dell anxiously. 
 When I came from England with my own mamma, I 
 had long golden curls. They were such a trouble I 
 wanted them cut off. Then it all grew queer and 
 streaky and was a great mop. They cut it when I 
 was ill, but it has nearly all fallen out," she ended 
 ruefully. 
 
 " Well, de new is jes' like soft cat ha'r, on'y it's tryin' 
 to curl. An' 'twon't be red, 'cause you've got such 
 dark eyebrows an' long, glisteny lashes. An' w'en 
 yeh git some fat on yeh bones it all be right, Missy. 
 An' here's yeh nice new gown Miss Neale she mek fur 
 yeh." 
 
 " Oh ! " It was just a cry of delight. 
 
 A soft, thick, creamy flannel, not very fine in texture, 
 but with a long nap that seemed almost like fur. There 
 was a band of light grey canton flannel around the 
 bottom, and a wide sailor collar and cuffs. Down the 
 front were small rose-colored bows with a ribbon to tie 
 at the neck, another at the waist. 
 
 "Oh, how -beautiful! And to make it for me! 
 There never was anybody so sweet and good. For 
 you see I wasn't even a friend or acquaintance, and 
 she has only known me such a little while." 
 
 Dell laid her cheek caressingly on the soft flannel. 
 
 "She's jes' de Lawd's own, honey. She's allus 
 mekin' de waste places sing an' de wild' ness re- 
 joice." 
 
 " Oh, why wasn't she married !" cried Dell, remem- 
 bering all that she and Con had said about old maids, 
 and positively hating to have her classed in the same- 
 category as Miss Sherburne. Why, she was as sweet 
 as Mamma Murray, and she ought to have children of 
 her own climbing her knees. 
 
 " Well, dat's a myst'ry, shuah. 'Tain't for want o' no 
 chances ! An' she ain't no ol' maid," rather resentfully.
 
 370 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "She's muddered more chillen, jes' as de Bible says, 
 clan she dat has a husbin, 'n' if dey all rise up an' call 
 her blessed at de las' day, black 'n' white 'n' all colors, 
 golly, won't dere be a percesshun ! De Lavvd he won't 
 be askin' pertikelars, '.cause dey'll all be shouten' how 
 she done fed 'em an' put cloze on 'em an' good tings in 
 dere poor empty stomachs, an' bin' up dere broken 
 hearts an' dere woun's, an' go fix up de dead and have 
 'em buried decent. An* she doan' go by on de odder 
 side like dat proud ol' Phar'see." 
 
 Dell was flicking away the tears with her thin fingers. 
 Yes, there were generous people in the world, Mamma 
 Murray, who gave her so much love and care, and now 
 Miss Neale. 
 
 " Doan' cry, chile. It's jes' pure 'joicin' natur'. 
 Dough I spec ol' Mis' at Sherburne ain't jes' dat kind, 
 Dey's mighty nice folks, dem Sherburnes, 'stocratic an' 
 all dat, but dey doan' hold a candle to Miss Neale. My 
 ol' mammy wuz one ob de Sherburne slaves long time 
 ago, 'n' sold Souf. I grow up in Georgy 'n' my two 
 brudders, Jake an' Effrum. An' when de'war come an' 
 we's all git free, I 'member my ol' mammy dead an' 
 gone sayin', Dinah, yeh git back to ol' Ferginny ef 
 ebber yeh kin. Ain't no sech odder c6untry on God's 
 yearth &s ol' Ferginny." 
 
 " But you did not go to Sherburne? " said Dell, her 
 bright eyes betraying her interest. 
 
 " No. Yeh see tings all changed ; and de doctor he 
 wantin' somebody. Den I hear ol' Miss kinder straight 
 an' stiff an' sharp like, an' mebbe wouldn't want me, nor 
 'member my ol' mammy. An' de Lawd he jes' d'rected 
 my steps right into Miss Neale's sunshine. An' honey, 
 I spec Heabben gone ter be jes' full o' sech folks." 
 
 "But what is to be done with the other real good 
 people who are not pleasant to live with ? " asked Dell 
 much puzzled. " They are not wicked."
 
 THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 271 
 
 " Dunno, chile. Dar's San Paul, yeh know, talk 
 'bout tree heabbens, an' he say he seen tings yeh not 
 'lowed to talk 'bout. I spec dat de fust-class heabben. 
 'cause dere's sight o' talkin' 'bout todder one and ebery- 
 body 'spectin' to git dar. But sec-h clear white people as 
 Miss Neale, dat hab cle glory of God shinin' tru all ober, 
 go straight up dere to dat highest place. An' mebbe de 
 res' try a little more. An' now I mus' carry you down 
 to yeh breakfas'." 
 
 " Oh, I am sure I can walk." 
 
 "No, Mas'r Doctor he say you doan' walk up and 
 down. Mebbe yeh get dizzy and tumble." 
 
 Dinah picked her up in her strong arms and carried 
 her with the utmost ease. Then she brought hi her 
 breakfast. 
 
 " I am sure I never was so hungry in all my life." 
 
 Dinah laughed with a rich mellowness. 
 
 How lovely the room looked. There was a great jar 
 full of autumnal branches, maple, oak with acorns, wild 
 plum with some purple fruit ; bowls of flowers set around. 
 There was no especial Sunday look, yet as she studied 
 the sunshine and the peace, a verse of the Psalms came 
 to her. 
 
 This is the day the Lord hath made, 
 Let us rejoice and be glad in it. 
 
 Every day was his work, every morning a new resur- 
 rection. There was the greater festival when the Lord 
 arose, the Sunday laying aside of worldly things, the 
 Lord's day. Why did it seem so much more devotional 
 here? And why was not everybody trying to make 
 some one happy, like Miss Neale ? Had she ever really 
 tried? She had been good and pleasant, in a happy, 
 thoughtless way, when all was in harmony around her. 
 Did Miss Neale do her good work only when everything 
 was pleasant and satisfactory ?
 
 272 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 She finished her breakfast and wandered about the 
 room, inhaling the sweet odors and studying the home- 
 like arrangements. Sherburne House seemed cold and 
 stiff. In a vague way she felt that it lacked the real 
 heartiness of love. Perhaps before she came it might 
 have been different, and she sighed. 
 
 She drifted around to Miss Neale's corner, and picked 
 up her prayer-book. How many long psalms she had 
 studied during the summer ! It opened of itself and she 
 glanced at a verse. 
 
 " Praise the Lord for it is a good thing to sing praises 
 unto the Lord : yea, a joyful and a pleasant thing it is to 
 be thankful."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 
 
 SOME one entered the room and Lyndell started, 
 turned partly around, and smiled. 
 
 " Well ! well ! " cried the doctor. " Are you posing 
 for statuary ? Lucky about that pink ribbon under your 
 chin, or one wouldn't be able to tell where the girl 
 ended and the gown began." 
 
 " Don't you like it ? " asked Dell eagerly, yet with a 
 touch of something between resentment and anxiety. 
 "It is a Sunday morning gift from my dear Miss Neale, 
 and I think it so lovely." 
 
 " I like white gowns. And this is pretty, but it makes 
 you look like a young lady. I am fond of girls, real 
 girls. I used to think I'd give everything I had, if my 
 cub was only a girl, but I'm quite content now." 
 
 " Your cub ! " cried Dell, in amazement. 
 
 "Yes." There was a spice of amusement in the doc- 
 tor's face. " You didn't dream that I had a son up in 
 New York at Columbia College ? " 
 
 " Why, no ; how could I ? " 
 
 "To be sure. Miss Neale mothered him until she 
 had him quite spoiled. And now she will spoil you." 
 
 " But it is just lovely to be spoiled " and Dell s eyes 
 filled with a tender light. 
 
 " Why doesn't some one take a hand in spoiling me? " 
 the doctor asked, in a whimsical tone. " Well, how do 
 you feel long and thin ? " 
 
 Yes, I do," said Dell, laughing. " It seems to me I 
 273
 
 274 SHE R BURNS HOUSE. 
 
 grow about an inch every night. And I should like to 
 stay a girl. I don't want to turn into a young lady. And 
 I am almost well. If I had a little more strength I 
 should want to run and shout for very delight." 
 
 " Then you do know how to run? " The doctor ele- 
 vated his brows rather incredulously. 
 
 " Run ! " cried Dell, with superb disdain. " I should 
 think I did! Why, there wasn't a boy about Murray's 
 Row that could beat me ! Or jumping either, right 
 along, the best three out of five. But I suppose it wasn't 
 ladylike," she added ruefully. 
 
 " It goes to make a good animal, and keeps the nerves 
 from getting too fine and threadbare. You haven't done 
 much running here ? " 
 
 " Miss Sherburne thinks it dreadfully rude and rough. 
 I ran with Ned Beaumanoir, and she was offended," 
 said Dell, rather softly. " But the week she was away 
 Miss Hendricks allowed me to, and we had some splen- 
 did walks." 
 
 " Ned is a Miss Nancy ! But he will be packed off to 
 school presently, which will prove his salvation. You 
 drove out every day ? " 
 
 " No-o " the child answered slowly ; " I'm afraid I 
 wasn't very good. There were extra tasks when I was 
 in disgrace, and I had to stay in my own room." 
 
 "You had your regular meals?" was the sharp in- 
 quiry, which made her flush. 
 
 " I had some bread and a glass of milk. Oh, I 
 thought at first I should be starved ! You see I had 
 been used to eating all I wanted. Mamma Murray 
 never found any fault. After awhile I got over feeling 
 so hungry. And when I was in New York I did not 
 want nearly so much." 
 
 "What did you do that was so dreadfully bad ? " 
 
 Dell colored faintly. 
 
 " You see it was all so different," she answered, with
 
 TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 275 
 
 a rather perplexed air. " I did not mean to be saucy or 
 rude at least " hesitatingly. 
 
 ' ' What did Mamma Murray do when you were all bad 
 together? " he asked, raising his brows. 
 
 Dell opened her eyes wide and stared at the doctor. 
 Just now they had the limpidness of beautiful brown 
 quartz. 
 
 " It doesn't seem to me that we were ever very bad. 
 I am afraid I can't make you understand," and she 
 drew her brows together thoughtfully, " but we were busy 
 and merry, we helped each other and took care of the 
 babies, and played and had no end of fun. And when 
 we did anything real wrong we were always sorry and 
 wanted to make it all right and straight. We gave up 
 something that would have pleased us very much, but 
 no one took it away. Oh, dear, how many tangles there 
 are when you go to new places. And, troubles " 
 
 "Well, they'll keep over until Monday. It's a good 
 plan to bury them in a pit as the farmers do their winter 
 vegetables. The sound, well-grown ones will come out 
 plump and fresh, but the little ones shrivel and shrink 
 up, so you give them a toss and that is the last of them. 
 And some troubles that look very large, if stowed away 
 out of sight, would shrink to nothing." 
 
 Dell smiled rather faintly. " I'm afraid mine will be 
 the plump ones," she said. " And I'd like to ask you " 
 she paused thoughtfully. 
 
 "You shall ask me all the questions that you can't 
 answer for yourself. But not this morning. Let them 
 go now for awhile. Did Miss Neale tell you Mr. Whit- 
 tingham was coming over to dinner? And you must be 
 calm and serene." 
 
 "So that he may see me in a new phase? He has 
 seea me in so many different ones. I am like the cha- 
 meleon ; it wouldn't be safe to venture a prediction as to 
 what I shall be."
 
 276 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 The doctor laughed. 
 
 "Oh," cried Dell, " he is coming now." 
 
 Sure enough his well-groomed horse came trotting 
 along. The doctor went out to receive his guest, and 
 presently ushered him into the room. Mr. Whittingham 
 started at the first glimpse of Dell. 
 
 " Why, I should not have known you," he exclaimed, 
 in the utmost surprise. 
 
 " I am thin and bald and, may be, old," said Dell, 
 rather ruefully. " It seems a hundred years since I went 
 to New York." 
 
 " And you look so utterly unlike the girl we captured 
 last June that I can hardly believe my senses. How tall 
 you are " and he eyed her from head to foot. 
 
 "There never will be any Dell Murray again," she 
 said a little sadly, as if she hated to lose the old person- 
 ality. 
 
 " But we mean to hold fast to Dell Sherburne," re- 
 sponded the doctor quickly. "I'll brew a hair tonic 
 warranted to turn your hair white in a single night, and 
 find some wonderful preparation for adipose tissue." 
 
 " But I don't want to get disgracefully fat, as I was 
 before," interrupted Dell. "None of the Sherburnes 
 are fat." 
 
 " Hoity, toity ! " cried the doctor. "What do you 
 say to Mrs. Beaumanoir? And Mrs. Stanwood is a 
 regular dumpling." 
 
 "Oh!" Dell drew a relieved breath. "But all the 
 girls are slim, and I felt almost as if I was an elephant," 
 she said protestingly. 
 
 " But an elephant always takes his trunk when he trav- 
 els, and you do not. Try for a better simile." 
 
 Miss Neale's phaeton wheeled around the corner, and 
 she nodded to them through the window. In a few mo- 
 ments she joined the group, and graciously apologized 
 for being a little late. Dinah had the dinner ready to
 
 TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 277 
 
 serve, and Dell was allowed to go out on the doctor's 
 arm. There was an agreeable quartet, and Dell was 
 roused to her olden gayety by the bits of frank, quaint 
 humor. Mr. Whittingham was something like Miss 
 Neale, she thought, only the fastidiousness seemed more 
 pronounced. But both were so delicate and refined, 
 while the doctor's breadth of shoulder, strong arms and 
 hands, and vigor written in every line of his weather- 
 beaten face pleased her by the striking contrast. He 
 wore a full beard, rather on the warm chestnut tint not 
 so very unlike her hair, when she had any. His eyes 
 were a cordial, merry blue, but a touch of emotion 
 turned them sympathetic, although even then they might 
 laugh at you a little. 
 
 Dell's wits had been sharpened by contact with the 
 Murrays, and feeling under no restraint, she was her 
 own joyous, childlike self. She surprised both gentle- 
 men by her bright sallies. It seemed to her that she had 
 never been so really happy ! 
 
 The doctor and his guest went to the office for an af- 
 ter-dinner smoke. 
 
 " Now you must lie down on the sofa and take a 
 good rest," said Miss Neale, as they entered the home- 
 room. 
 
 Dell reached up and put her arms around Miss 
 Carew's neck, surprised at her own tallness. 
 
 " I must thank you for my pretty gown. Dinah said 
 you made it for me. But oh, what words will express 
 my delight ! It is so soft and lovely and comfortable." 
 
 " And you do not look so much like a sick girl in it. 
 The dark blue is very trying at present, but you will 
 find it serviceable. I am fond of greys, though they are 
 rather old, unless very much brightened up. But white 
 is becoming for any stage of youth." 
 
 " You are so so kindly. People are sometimes good 
 without being truly kind. I'd like to call you by a name
 
 ,'76 SHERBURNE HOUSE 
 
 I found in a book I read not long ago. It would just 
 suit you " and the girl glanced up wistfully. 
 
 "Well" with an inquiring smile. 
 
 " Heart's Delight." 
 
 " Captain Cuttle," said Miss Neale. Then she bent 
 and kissed her. 
 
 " Was your old lady glad to go out this morning ? It 
 was so delightful." 
 
 " Yes, very." Miss Carew was pleased by the inquiry. 
 " She suffers a good deal with the rheumatism, and it is 
 only now and then she feels well enough to venture out. 
 Her own daughter is dead, and she lives with a married 
 granddaughter. Since the war they have been in strait- 
 ened circumstances, and her home is not the most en- 
 joyable. During her earlier years she had a great deal 
 that was refined and delightful." 
 
 " Now and then she comes to the House Beautiful, " 
 said Dell, glancing up. " And I know just how she 
 feels." 
 
 Miss Carew smiled as she arranged Dell's pillows. 
 
 " Presently I am going to have my Sunday-school 
 class," she said. "The little negro children around 
 come in and say a lesson, and I read them a story. 
 There is no Mission School very near. You have a very 
 good one at Sherburne." 
 
 " I have never been there. I " Then Del! 
 
 paused. 
 
 " I suppose Miss Sherburne considers you too young 
 to take an interest in it. Well, all that will come by ami 
 by, when you are older." 
 
 She read to Dell awhile, then there was a shuffling of 
 feet on the side porch, and with a kiss she left her. Dell 
 \vas not sleepy ; so she lay wondering if she could fashion 
 her own life something on this method, as she grew to 
 womanhood. Or would Miss Sherburne be mistress as 
 lon as she lived ?
 
 TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 279 
 
 Mr. Whittingham entered. She raised her head, and 
 motioned him to the vacant chair beside her. 
 
 " The doctor has been called out suddenly," he an- 
 nounced apologetically. " And shall I disturb you?" 
 
 " Xo," replied Dell. "And I am very glad to see 
 
 you alone. There is something I ought to say " 
 
 She colored and hesitated. 
 
 "' I came out to Sherburne the day after I brought you 
 home. I hoped to make matters a little smoother, but I 
 am afraid I failed." How could he tell her of Miss 
 Sherburne's accusation? Yet he felt that she ought 
 to be given an opportunity to explain. 
 
 She held out her thin, white hand. He remembered 
 how dimpled it had been not very long ago. 
 
 "My dear child" and a tender expression settled 
 about his lips, as if inviting her to confidence. 
 
 " I am afraid I made trouble for you," she said, with 
 a sort of beseeching regret. "I ought to have told 
 you about the money. Wasn't it odd that I never men- 
 tioned it in my delirium ? " 
 
 ' Did you not? " wonderingly. 
 
 " No. And I want to tell you just how and where I 
 found it," she exclaimed eagerly. 
 
 Certainly it was a very simple little incident. She 
 told it so straightforwardly that he could not doubt her 
 truth. 
 
 " Did you never imagine it might belong to Miss Sher- 
 burne ? " he inquired gently. 
 
 - I did not consider about its really belonging to any 
 ooe when no inquiries were made. And I know, now, 
 that Miss Sherburne did not lose it, for she accused me 
 of going to her desk and taking it in small sums." 
 Dell's face crimsoned, and her voice had a tremble of 
 suppressed anger in it. " You see, if she had lost fifteen 
 dollars at one time she would have known It and given 
 notice. And it was dreadful for her to say it ! I think
 
 280 SllERBURNK HOUSE. 
 
 the Murrays would tell you that I never took a penny in 
 my life. And when one has always been honest oh, 
 you do believe I would not go to her desk or drawers ? " 
 she cried imploringly. 
 
 "Yes, I believe you just as I would believe Miss 
 Neale," he answered gravely. 
 
 1 ' Oh, thank you a thousand times ! " She pressed 
 his hand to her lips with a mute caress that touched him 
 inexpressibly. ". I was so amazed when she said that, 
 when she called me a thief" and Dell gave way to a 
 flood of tears. 
 
 "My dear child, do not cry so" and he glanced 
 helplessly about. " Your argument is conclusive. No 
 one would lose that amount without making an inquiry. 
 She was over-suspicious, hasty." 
 
 "And I wonder if you can help me find the owner? 
 I think it was some poor person, because one bill was 
 old and faded. And it must have lain out there in the 
 damp some time. But you see I cannot rest now until 
 the matter is explained. I cannot be considered a thief! " 
 she cried indignantly. " And I have the money to give 
 back to the owner. Do you not think he or she ought 
 to be able to describe it? " 
 
 " You have a shrewd, sensible head. Yes, I will think 
 it over and try to hit upon some plan. It seems rather 
 confusing just now. And you have said nothing to Miss 
 Sherburne?" 
 
 "No. I wouldn't," with resentful pride. "I suppose 
 she was very good to have such excellent care taken of 
 me during my illness, but I couldn't talk to her about it. 
 I told Cassy and begged her to make inquiries. I sup- 
 pose I ought not to have used it." 
 
 He could not blame her in her present weak state. 
 In fact, he was inclined to be lenient under any cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 "We shall be sure to learn, somehow. And now do
 
 TOUCH TJI AT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 281 
 
 not distress yourself. I am glad you are to be here under 
 the doctor's care. Miss Carew would charm any one 
 back to health. And some time we will talk the subject 
 over again, when you are stronger." 
 
 For he had a vague idea that the matter ought to be 
 set in its true light to her. If she were only a boy ! But 
 her entreating eyes disarmed him. He felt that she had 
 not been fairly treated, and that the accusation made on 
 such slight ground was cruelly unjust. He had not seen 
 Miss Sherburne since that unfortunate day. Mr. Beau- 
 manoir, he found, inclined strongly to the belief that the 
 money belonged to Miss Sherburne, but he could not 
 think Lyndell had deliberately taken it. 
 
 Dell had been studying the grave, refined face. It 
 seemed to her she saw so much more in faces than she 
 dreamed of three months ago. 
 
 " I hope, in the years to come," she said, in a soft, al- 
 most pleading tone, " that I shall not disappoint any ideals 
 or plans you may form for me. When I get well I am 
 going to try very earnestly to study, to improve, to be 
 like " no, she could not quite pattern after Violet Beau- 
 manoir " to be what the future mistress of Sherburne 
 House ought to be," she continued, with slow gravity. 
 " It has all been so strange to me, and at first I wanted 
 to throw it all up and return to the Murrays. But papa 
 Murray explained a good many things this last time, and 
 I understood them better. You know I had been an 
 eager, heedless child, and now I am going on to woman- 
 hood. I don't suppose I could ever be like Miss Neale." 
 
 " All characters develop, ripen ; she is the most beauti- 
 ful and gracious pattern a young girl could take," he 
 said, with an unusual fervor. 
 
 Certainly, with such an ideal before her, she could not 
 fail of reaching some of the finer heights. 
 
 "I shall be out again to see you," he said, as he caught 
 sight of the doctor's stalwart figure passing the window.
 
 2S:> SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 They were to indulge in a little ride together. The doc- 
 tor tried to save Sunday as much for rest and refreshment 
 as he could. 
 
 Miss Neale came in to say good-bye to her guest. 
 
 " I suppose I couldn't come out and see your children ? " 
 Dell pleaded, when the gentlemen were gone. 
 
 "Why, yes if you feel strong enough" and Miss 
 Neale smiled. " Or I will bring them in here. I gen- 
 erally do for their last bit of music." 
 
 " Oh, do let them come in !" cried Dell eagerly. " I 
 suppose I can sit up in an easy-chair ? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 Dell settled herself. The little throng filed in rather 
 bashfully. They were all sorts and sizes and colors, but 
 they looked extremely picturesque, and were scrubbed 
 until they shone. 
 
 Miss Neale had been reading the story of Joseph and 
 his brethren. Indeed, it had been given them as their 
 lesson to ponder over during the week, and now Miss 
 Neale asked one of the largest girls to tell what she 
 remembered of it. It was a rather blundering version, 
 yet it had a touch of simple pathos that brought the tears 
 to Dell's eyes. When she halted beyond redemption, a 
 bright little boy with beady eyes and a soft yellow brown 
 skin held up his hand with the eager exclamation " Let 
 me, Missus; I know ;" and he was allowed to proceed. 
 Some one corrected him when he failed. There were 
 bright, shrewd, and almost laughable comments, but in 
 the main they proved their interest, and a fair share of 
 memory. Miss Neale endeavored to strengthen the moral 
 points, setting the treachery, selfishness, and falsehood of 
 the brethren in the strongest light, contrasting it with their 
 after experience in the threatened loss of Benjamin. Dell 
 listened with a tender interest. Never had the old story 
 appeared so beautiful. 
 
 Then Miss Neale' went to the piano and played the
 
 TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 2K* 
 
 ever beautiful and touching " Evening Hymn." The 
 voices were not very well trained, but some were remark- 
 ably beautiful. They made a sort of awkward decession, 
 giving an imaginary pull to their forelocks, which were of 
 shortest wool. 
 
 " Oh," said Dell, " I feel as if I had been to adelight- 
 ful Sunday-school myself. How good you are to take so 
 much trouble ! And the children were so bright and 
 amusing. I have seen white children who did not answer 
 as well." 
 
 " They are very eager to learn, and the sooner we de- 
 velop their intelligence and give them a sense of personal 
 responsibility, the quicker we shall have a better class of 
 laborers. After having kept them in ignorance for gen- 
 erations, it is plainly our duty to make some amends. You 
 at the North have the emigrants, but these people are our 
 very own, and ought to be a solemn charge to us. There 
 is quite a large Sunday-school at Sherburne." 
 
 "Is there?" asked Dell, surprised. Then, with a 
 rising flush, she said : " Miss Sherburne requested me not 
 to go to the quarters." 
 
 "You are so new to Southern life," and Miss Neale 
 smiled but made no further comment, as she sat down 
 to the piano and sang several beautiful hymns that de- 
 lighted Dell. Then the doctor came in, and they had 
 supper. 
 
 She was allowed to sit up a little while, but she con- 
 fessed to a feeling of fatigue, so he carried her upstairs. 
 It had been such a happy day that she wanted to keep 
 awake and think it over, but she unconsciously floated 
 away to the land of dreams. 
 
 ' Whittingham was quite shocked to see such a change, ' ' 
 began the doctor presently. " He is curiously roused 
 and indignant, and hopes we shall be able to keep her here 
 for a month at least. I fancy Miss Sherburne has not 
 been quite fair, although she is ultra-conscientious on
 
 284 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 some points. Ah, how much sooner a little love discerns 
 the right path than the most strenuous duty !" 
 
 " It is a pity that she is Lyndell Sherburne. It will be 
 hard getting fitted to the place. She is such an ingrained 
 democrat, and so loyal to her friends." 
 
 "We do not need to go far to account for the latter 
 trait," and the doctor gave a soft little laugh. " The 
 Sherburnes are loyal and honorable to a degree, and 
 poor Ned was well, rather obstinate." 
 
 ' I wonder what her mother was like ? We have heard 
 only one side of the story. It will make the position rather 
 sad for the child ' 
 
 "Oh, there are some papers, Whittingham has them 
 in safe keeping, that are to be given to her when she 
 is fifteen ; letters from her mother. So she will not be 
 left in ignorance. Of course there will be a good deal 
 of friction, and I think, with him, that she would be better 
 off in some good school. Still there can be no thought of 
 that this side of Christmas. She must get thoroughly 
 well. She ought to have a pony and no end of outdoor 
 exercise. You are not tired of her?" and he gave a quick, 
 whimsical glance. 
 
 " I like her very much. I hope to make a lasting 
 friendship. And she is extremely grateful." 
 
 " Good," appended the doctor, turning to his book. 
 
 Julius stopped the next morning to ask about Missy, 
 and announce that " de young ladies comin' over in de 
 afternoon to see her." 
 
 Oh, dear ! " sighed Dell. 
 
 Miss Neale glanced up with a pleasant look of in- 
 quiry. 
 
 " Why must people live together who do not like each 
 other ? And it is so queer to think of them all as rela- 
 tives. Why, they are my aunts and cousins, yet I seem 
 quite outside of them all. I can't get it straight or com- 
 fortable in my mind. It is my home, the inheritance of
 
 TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 28!> 
 
 my own papa. They really never had it, yet they make 
 me feel that I am the outsider. And then I wish myself 
 back with the Murrays. How can I help it ? " 
 
 " My dear child," Miss Neale stooped and kissed her, 
 " there are so many intricate points that one cannot 
 smooth out the path in a few weeks. The Lepages and 
 the Stanwoods have lived so much at Sherburne ; and I 
 must say they have been a very united family. Your 
 grandfather was unusually fond of having his children 
 around him. He felt your father's death keenly. I am 
 sorry no one had the courage to attempt to heal the 
 breach then, but they were under the mistaken impres- 
 sion that Edward Sherburne's rights ceased with his 
 death, or that a son only could inherit. When people 
 want to believe certain things, they are very apt to shut 
 their eyes to all opposing points. And Leonard Beau- 
 manoir is such a fine young man, so great a favorite with 
 them all, that it certainly was a bitter disappointment 
 when they found that he must positively give up all 
 hopes of being master at Sherburne." 
 
 " I do not like him," Dell said decisively. 
 
 "Ah, then you have seen him? " 
 
 "Yes. And he said well, I cannot remember just 
 the words, but that /had crowded him out of Sherburne. 
 and that I ought to to admire him for giving up peace- 
 ably and not making a fight." 
 
 Miss Carew knew the subject of breaking old Mr. 
 Sherburne's will had been considered. Had there been 
 the slightest loophole it would have been pushed im- 
 mediately. But they were not a family to make a useless 
 scandal. 
 
 " If I could have helped coming," continued Dell, in 
 an aggrieved tone, " I did not want to. But papa Mur- 
 ray said the laws of the land were higher than any per- 
 son's will and desires, and that they were really made 
 to protect the weak. At first I thought I could give it
 
 :> SHERBUESE HOUSE. 
 
 back to them, but Mr. Whittingham told me papa's 
 views were right and that I could not transfer it. And 
 sometimes my heart goes up with a great bound to think 
 the beautiful home is really mine. Only if they must 
 ;ul come and stay as they like." 
 
 Dell's voice trembled, and her eyes overflowed 
 
 " My dear child," and Miss Carew held the throbbing 
 form close in her arms, " there may be some wisdom in 
 this discipline that you cannot see now. It is when we 
 bear unjust trials with grace and patience that God's 
 love is made manifest in us. Those that we bring on 
 ourselves by our own wrongdoing, are the outcome of 
 a simple natural law. When you come to know your 
 cousins well, I think you will find them very pleasant, 
 agreeable girls. And you must not fret about this 
 matter. Your duty is now to use every effort toward re- 
 covery." 
 
 "Perhaps it is one of the troubles I had better bury 
 awhile. It may shrivel. The doctor told me of that 
 method." 
 
 Miss Neale smiled. Then she brought in the two 
 half-grown Maltese kittens, whose antics so amused Dell 
 that she laughed light-heartedly. Miss Neale found 
 some work to cut and make ready for her sewing class 
 of freedwomen ; and Dell took a warm interest in the 
 small incidents of their lives. Her nature was intensely 
 sympathetic with all phases of want and sorrow. 
 
 The doctor came home in a jolly mood, and took her 
 i.nt for her half-hour's drive. Then there was dinner 
 iind her siesta. 
 
 Afterward Miss Neale was brushing her scanty rings 
 of hair when she reached up and clasped her arms about 
 her friend's neck. 
 
 Dear Heart's Delight," she said, in a soft, coaxing 
 tone, " will you promise not to be hurt by something I 
 think I ought to say ? "
 
 TOUCH THAT MAKES THE WORLD AKIN. 88T 
 
 " I do not believe you could or would say anything to 
 really grieve me," was the kindly reply. 
 
 "I should not want to. It is this " Dell hesitated 
 and colored. " I feel that I ought to put on the blue 
 flannel dress. I can't like it half as well as your lovely 
 gift, and 1 look horrid in it ; but you see, I'd outgrown 
 the summer clothes and they were not suitable. Cassy 
 hurried to make me that and I can't quite explain 
 
 but Miss Sherburne might feel " Dell's voice 
 
 quivered suspiciously. It really was not her fault that 
 I had nothing else." , 
 
 Miss Neale gave a soft, heartening laugh. 
 
 "My dear child, I have been perplexing myself on 
 the same score, and wondering if I could make you un- 
 derstand a little scruple of mine. I should not want 
 Miss Sherburne to consider me officious, and it would 
 break the pleasant relations the doctor desires to main- 
 tain if she fancied we meant in any way to prejudice you 
 against her wishes and plans. When you come to make 
 after visits, the gown will be here for you to slip on. 
 We shall keep it as a little piece of you. And I am glad 
 to see you have so much delicacy for another person's 
 feelings." 
 
 " She bought me beautiful clothes," said Dell. 
 " She would not take any of the things I had in New- 
 York. I didn't realize until I went back how expensive 
 they really were. I suppose I ought to have appreciated 
 them, but I didn't feel like myself in the strange place. 
 I am to have a new wardrobe. And it is so sweet of 
 you to understand. For I look so much nicer in this." 
 
 It seemed quite heroic to Miss Carew that any girl 
 should be willing to be made less pretty for a principle- 
 that few would have recognized. She brought the blue 
 gown and put it on, then she found a fleecy white wrap- 
 that she threw carelessly over her shoulders. 
 
 "You will not look quite so ghostly," she said cheer-
 
 288 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 fully. She pushed her chair by the window, but out of 
 the direct light. Then she stood a little table in front of 
 her, and placed on it a great bowl of flowers. Thus she 
 was accessible only on one side, and in some degree 
 protected from glances that might prove embarrassing.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EVES. 
 
 A CARRIAGE load of bright young people came down 
 the street. There was little to obstruct the vision now, 
 for Doctor Carew had widened and straightened the old 
 road to suit his own convenience. He was in the office 
 compounding some medicines, but went out gayly to re- 
 ceive them, and marshalled them in with the rather jovial 
 lack of ceremony that characterized him. 
 
 There were the three Beaumanoir girls, Ethel and 
 Alice Lepage. They all greeted Miss Carew, then Milli- 
 cent crossed over to Dell and took her limp hand. 
 
 " I hope you are improving," she said, in a bright yet 
 soft tone. " Aunt Sherburne was concerned lest the 
 journey here would prove too much, and we were glad 
 to hear so good an account of you. And you must get 
 well enough to enjoy some of this nice weather." 
 
 "The doctor takes me out," Dell replied stiffly. 
 
 "And auntie wished me to explain to you that you 
 would soon have some appropriate attire. Mamma did 
 a little shopping for you while she was in the city, and 
 Cassy and a seamstress are busy at work. Can you 
 think of any special article?" 
 
 Dell colored, and somehow her eyes fell on her gown. 
 
 "Cassy is making you some pretty wrappers, one a 
 pink flannel with soft brown tufts. You are so pale that 
 pink will be a cheerful color, and I thinjc cheerfulness 
 indispensable to an invalid. I had a long time getting 
 over scarlet fever when I was about your age. And 
 Doctor Carew was so good to me."
 
 290 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " He is good. And Miss Neale is the loveliest of 
 nurses. One ought to get well here." Then Dell col- 
 ored suddenly. 
 
 " I am glad you are content and and comfortable." 
 
 Dell glanced out of the window at two little darky 
 boys tumbling over each other in their anxiety to reach 
 the house first. She felt strangely embarrassed. There 
 seemed nothing in common with these girls, though any- 
 where else she would have liked Millicent. 
 
 Miss Neale was keeping up a bright talk with the 
 others, and the doctor was teasing Ethel about her tour 
 through Germany, giving her some of the most outlandish 
 of pronunciations. Violet was explaining a proposed 
 picnic to Kirton Bluffs on a nutting expedition, with a 
 dinner, gypsy -fashion, in the woods. The Floyds and 
 the Masons were to join them, and Mrs. Fanshawe was 
 to go. They all liked her so much. Aunt Sherburne 
 was so sorry not to have Dell able to begin her studies. 
 
 Little fragments floated over to the invalid. They 
 were all so bright and merry, so assured, so at home on 
 any subject, that Dell felt weak and ignorant, and on 
 the very outside rim. 
 
 Some one proposed their going, and they all rose. 
 What a pretty group it was ! They threw careless good- 
 byes to Dell, who scarcely raised her eyes. Frances 
 hoped she would soon be well enough to come home. 
 Millicent gave her hand a little squeeze. 
 
 The doctor went out and put the girls in the carriage. 
 
 " What an awful stick ! " exclaimed Ethel as soon as 
 they had started. " And a horrid fright as well." 
 
 "You did not succeed in rousing any enthusiasm," 
 Violet declared, with a rather sharp laugh at Millicent. 
 
 "Aunt Sherjjurne is right ; she is only about half civ- 
 ilized." 
 
 " Then we must try to civilize her. Have you ever 
 considered the other side, girls ? " asked Millicent.
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES. 291 
 
 " There is only a flat, imponderable surface, length 
 and breadth " and Ethel giggled. 
 
 11 You must remember how hard it has been for her to 
 come among strangers, where everything was different, 
 to relinquish her old friends and interests " 
 
 "Friends! That is good ! A pack of wild heathens ! 
 Auntie was telling mamma how she first came upon 
 them, a great crowd of boys and girls, old women and 
 babies, and our lovely cousin dancing to entertain them. 
 It was disgusting ! And I should imagine her about as 
 graceful as an elephant." 
 
 " She was awful fat at first," interpolated Frances. 
 
 " Girls, this is certainly ' all uncharitableness,' if not 
 malice. We have all danced out of doors and enjoyed 
 it wonderfully," said Millicent, with rebuking decision. 
 " She is our cousin, and she has come to live among us. 
 We ought to make her welcome, instead of feeling that 
 she had no right to come. She could not help it." 
 
 " Well, we can t help feeling that she has no real 
 right!" 
 
 You forget that, being Uncle Edward's daughter, 
 she had every right. Great-grandpapa left Sherburne to 
 Uncle Edward ; none of the other children had any 
 claim on it. Really, we are her guests. That is the 
 proper way to look at it." 
 
 Indeed. Milly, Aunt Sherburne has some rights in 
 the estate," said Violet, with dignity. 
 
 " Yes. the right to live there, and now she manages 
 the estate, yet she is not compelled to do that. But it 
 seems to me that we have all sadly forgotten our cour- 
 tesy to a stranger, who has been brought among us by 
 no wish of her own." 
 
 Well, we really have had no opportunity," retorted 
 Ethel. " And if there is nothing about her to like 
 
 "She has beautiful eyes," said Alice. 
 
 So far she has not commended herself very strongly
 
 292 XHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 to our sympathies," remarked Violet, rather crossly. 
 " She has made Aunt Sherburne a great deal of trouble 
 and shown herself almost ungovernable. And her beiny; 
 ill was mostly her own fault. Miss Neale will cuddle 
 her up and spoil her. And I did not see that she \\ ;is 
 particularly delighted with your advances, Millicent." 
 
 " We must all remember that she is at a disadvantage 
 everywhere," said Millicent, with a sweet gravity. " We 
 have all grown up together. Sherburne House has been 
 like a second home to us, yet I dare say every one of us 
 has had some moments of rebelling at Aunt Aurelia's 
 rule. We were sure of her love to begin with. But if 
 any one of us had been compelled to go among strangers, 
 where customs were different " 
 
 "Why, they are different at school," interposed 
 Ethel. " And when one is traveling." 
 
 " Yes, but we know that is only temporary. We have 
 the dear home people to love and to write to, and we 
 can confess our troubles and perplexities 
 
 "You do not mean to infer that Aunt Aurelia was 
 wrong in not allowing her to keep up with those Mui- 
 rays ! " cried Violet, in amazement. 
 
 " I am not going to blame anybody, or discuss Aunt 
 Aurelia's duties," returned Millicent, with a decision that 
 awed the flock somewhat. " I simply mean that we 
 ought to treat her as we would like to be treated if one 
 of us was Lyndell Sherburne coming to her father's 
 house. Oh, girls, we have some duties toward this 
 stranger. She cannot help being our cousin. And out 
 of our happy lives we ought to make her glad, rather 
 than sorry, it is so." 
 
 They were silent some minutes, then Ethel began 
 about the nutting expedition. Millicent was haunted by 
 the pale, sad face and shrinking manner ; in fact it had 
 given her some twinges of conscience. A few words 
 dropped by Cassy had set her to thinking. She was the
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES. 293 
 
 eldest, and could see both sides of the matter. If Lyn- 
 dell longed so desperately for her New York friends, she 
 must be capable of warm affection. And it seemed hard 
 when one thought of the lonely child confined to lessons 
 all summer, while the others were revelling in joyous 
 freedom. Even if she were untrustworthy, some effort 
 of kindliness must be made to awake a longing for better 
 tilings. 
 
 After the visitors had left the room, Lyndell turned 
 her face to the window, trying very hard to repress her 
 tears, but the stream gathered in strength and over- 
 flowed. It was a pathetic kind of crying. The doctor 
 came up close to her chair, and took her face in his 
 hands, which were plump and soft, turning it gently 
 around. 
 
 " My little pilgrim," he said tenderly, " are you not on 
 the verge of the Slough of Despond ? Come, let me lift 
 you out of it," and suiting the action to the word, he 
 raised her in his arms, seated himself in her place, and 
 drew her to his heart, as only the experience of father- 
 hood can. She cried softly awhile ; the shelter touched 
 her inexpressibly. Then she raised her head a trifle. 
 
 " I am a very April-showery girl, and silly." 
 
 "Weak in body and in the nerves. And I'll venture 
 that six months ago you 'never cried for well, I can't 
 quite call it a trifle, either. All this blooming health and 
 strength was a trying contrast." 
 
 "And they were so pretty" a long sob shook her 
 fragile frame. " You will think me foolish I did not 
 use to mind whether I was pretty or not." 
 
 "Well, we are going to make a very good-looking girl 
 of you presently, and you must help. I have a theory 
 that everybody ought to be made pretty, and one can't 
 begin too soon." 
 
 "Oh, do you think "and Dell's eyes were full of 
 eager light, while her voice quivered.
 
 294 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 " Randolph," said his sister vvarningly. She still kept 
 to the fine old theories that goodness must be placed m 
 the front rank, and beauty served at the second tahto. 
 But she had always been pretty. 
 
 " I think we ought all to be as handsome as possible ; 
 and we should be willing to try for it, just as we try for ;i 
 great many other things. We all like it," and hib eye-, 
 twinkled humorously at Miss Neale. "But first. .there 
 can be no real beauty without good health, and very lit- 
 tle without a good temper. Anger, despondency, Milki- 
 ness, and all the passions act directly on the heart, the 
 circulation, and derange the blood. That affects the 
 skin and the brain, and unwholesome thoughts interfere 
 with digestion pretty nearly as much as an unwholesome 
 meal. It seems very easy to drop into a scowl when you 
 are cross, and there is an extremely unpleasant way of 
 shutting one's mouth. There are sharp, forbidding faces 
 that never draw forth friendly responses ; there are 
 voices that rasp you like a file, and you do shun these 
 people. If by any means you come to unearth a streak 
 of goodness unexpectedly, you regret the many faults for 
 which you have to apologize continually. These un- 
 pleasant qualities do not ennoble any virtues, and you al- 
 ways think how the virtues would shine in a better set- 
 ting. We should laugh at a jeweller who put a lovely 
 diamond in a clumsy iron ring. He might say: ' Of 
 course everybody can see that it is a diamond ' but it is 
 really undervaluing the gem." 
 
 Lyndell was listening with eager interest. 
 
 " I've often thought about the ten talents. One might 
 have been beauty. And its possessor no doubt said 
 shrewd man that he was ' I must turn this to some ;ic- 
 count. I must show people that beauty is a good and 
 pleasant thing, beside being pretty to look at. Rightly 
 used, it will give me influence ; it will bring me friends ; 
 it will enable me to carrv sunshine to homes where the
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES. 295 
 
 people live in a clouded atmosphere and have no faith in 
 the sweeter graces of life. 1 And perhaps with his one 
 talent of beauty he gathered in many more various 
 other talents. When you come to be really interested in 
 the good old book in which all ages will find some of the 
 grandest truths, I hope this will linger in your mind 
 ' No man liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto 
 himself.' Young people ought to study it out early in 
 life. You can make a truth grand and noble and inspir- 
 ing. You can also make it so disagreeable that people 
 will hate it. And then you tell or act a lie against truth 
 itself." 
 
 Dell crept closer. It felt so good to be cuddled in 
 great, strong, tender arms. And she wondered a little 
 had she been making truth lovely ? She was quite 
 sure Miss Sherburne had not. 
 
 "But my text was beauty. When you get better, I 
 want you to study to acquire it. You must keep your- 
 self in good health by plenty of fresh air and exercise. 
 You must learn how to stand, how to walk, how to be 
 gracious and kindly, refined, good-tempered, truthful, and 
 honorable. I knew of some one who had a great swarrn 
 of bees picked out of the Bible. Their honey never 
 failed. They were ' Be patient, be kindly affectioned 
 one toward another,' and dozens more of them. What 
 a sweet world it would be if everybody kept a hive ! " 
 
 Dell raised her head and gave a soft little laugh. 
 
 Go on," she pleaded. " I like to hear you talk." 
 
 But a knock at the door interrupted them. 
 
 ~ If yeh please, Missus, Lizzy Jackson's here, an' she 
 wanter see Missy Lyndell." 
 
 Send her in," exclaimed the doctor. " We owe her 
 a good deal for past favors." 
 
 " Didn't I think she was Mamma Murray ! I felt so 
 safe when she was there," confessed Dell. 
 
 Lizzy carne in rather diffidently. She shook hands
 
 296 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 with the doctor, as he stretched his out at once ; greeted 
 Miss Carew respectfully, and stared at Dell. 
 
 "Oh, Missy! " she cried, "I heard you was gettin' 
 well " 
 
 "So she is," declared the doctor, " so she is ! And I 
 am glad you know your duty well enough to come an<> 
 inquire about her." 
 
 " But you's mighty pale an' thin. Cassy tol* me how 
 the good doctor car'y you off, en I come." 
 
 "Did you think I had spirited her to the moon?" 
 The doctor laughed, with a mellow sound. " I'm not 
 sure about the climate. I hear they've burned up all 
 their fuel, and she must be kept good and warm, so some 
 roses will blossom on her cheeks presently." 
 
 " She's come to the right place. En I hope the 
 good Lawd'll sen' her all what he promis' when he say 
 dey shan't want no good things when dey waiten' on 
 him." 
 
 "And we are deeply indebted to you, Lizzy. I don't 
 know what we should have done without you. It was 
 fortunate that she took to you." 
 
 " It was when you sang," said Dell, in a dreamy fash- 
 ion. " That suggested Mamma Murray. And O Lizzv. 
 I never can repay you, only by feeling very grateful. 
 But I liked you so much the day you gave me the ber- 
 ries. And I hope some time " Then Dell sighed. 
 
 If she had some money of her very own to buy a gift for 
 Lizzy ! Perhaps Mr. Whittingham would do it. 
 
 After Lizzy had answered the questions and comments, 
 she still lingered, twisting up the corner of her apron as 
 if something embarrassed her. 
 
 "Did you want to see me especially?" asked the 
 doctor, for he felt the real errand had not been con- 
 fessed. 
 
 "Oh.no; Marse Doctor. It was Miss Dell." She 
 dropped her eyes and shuffled her feet slightly. Miss
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES. 297 
 
 Carew left the room on some errand. Lizzy came closer 
 to Dell, and looked at her with deprecating wistfulness. 
 " Please, Miss Dell, Gassy tol' me you want her to to 
 'quire 'bout losin' somfin' " 
 
 "Oh, was it the money, Lizzy?" Dell smiled joy- 
 ously. 
 
 " Yes, Missy, beggin' you's pardon Gassy was down 
 to de cabin las' night. Me an' my ol' man was settin' 
 dere, an' he say " 
 
 Dell sat up straight and turned a flushed face toward 
 the doctor. " It was about some money I found," she 
 explained eagerly. " I told Mr. Whittingham yesterday, 
 and I wanted to ask you " 
 
 The doctor pressed her hand as a check. Then he 
 glanced up in Lizzy's face. 
 
 "Why?" he inquired. "Do you know who lost 
 any ? " 
 
 "My ol' man, Marse Doctor. He lose fifteen dollars 
 one ebenin', comin' 'cross de plantation. Miss 'Reely 
 she done forbid de folks crossin' dat er way, but Homer, 
 he hurryin' erlong late like, an' cut 'cross fer short. He 
 done pull out his 'baccy bag wunst, but he don* "member 
 nottin' else. When he git home dat money clean gone. 
 He doan say nottin' first, but jes' sarch an' sarch. Den 
 he go over to Marse Mason, and he say he dead sure he 
 pay Homer, 'n* he giv' him two tolerble good bills en 
 one ol* one. He hunt all roun', en go back en furth, en 
 he never fin' it. Den he tell Julius he giv' a dollar fer 
 any one findin' it." 
 
 "Oh, it must be his, Lizzy. I am so glad," cried Dell 
 excitedly. 
 
 Did Missy fin' it?" asked Lizzy hesitatingly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "We must look into the matter," interrupted the 
 doctor, with an air of authority. " When did Homer 
 lose it ? "
 
 2JH SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " He done got de date, Marse Doctor. Jes' som- 
 wher' pass de middle er August. Homer doan tell no 
 lies 'bout hisself " 
 
 " And you found it " looking sharply at Dell. 
 
 " The very last of August, just before Miss Sherburne 
 came home. And if I had known 
 
 We doan go up to de big house much. An' Homer 
 he feel queer "bout makin' any fuss. Fer ye see 
 'twould jes' set de hull tribe huntin', an' dere's plenty 
 who say ' findin's is keepin's,' en we'd never lite on it no 
 more. But ef de good Lawd jes' let it go safe to you's 
 han's, oh, Missy, we kin never be t'ankful 'nuff! 
 
 Dell colored vividly. Safe in her hands. Had it 
 been so entirely safe? A curious sense of responsibility 
 thrilled through her. 
 
 " I wish you'd send Homer over, and let me talk to 
 him. I'm a little in the dark about this. But if it is all 
 right, Miss Dell will hand over the money. It's lucky it 
 fell into such good hands. Are you going right back ? " 
 
 "Yes, Marse Doctor. I come ober to town jes' soon 
 es I get tru washin'." 
 
 " And walked, of course. Well, 'Rius must drive you 
 back, and he can bring Homer." 
 
 " Oh, de good Lawd bless you, Marse Doctor 
 
 Lizzy's voice broke. Then she seized both of Dell's 
 hands and wrung them passionately. Dell gave a sob, 
 but uttered no word. When Lizzy closed the door, she 
 hid her face on the doctor's broad shoulder and was 
 silent, save for the convulsive tremors that shook her 
 now and then. 
 
 " Dell," he said with soft entreaty. 
 
 "Oh, doctor maybe Miss Sherburne is right, and I'm 
 wicked above everybody ! I want to tell you and if 
 you think it right to send me back 
 
 "There, don't worry about going back. And don't 
 cry. You will get all nervous and knocked up." He
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES. 2<M> 
 
 wiped her eyes and smiled cheerfully. "Surely finding 
 a sum of money isn't such a bad thing when one wants 
 to restore it. How was it ? " 
 
 There was a tremulous huskiness in her voice as she 
 began, starting with her wild dream of getting away, and 
 the five dollars Mr. Whittingham had given her. " And 
 I prayed for some more ; " she cried with a strange fer- 
 vor. " I didn't really suppose it would come before 
 Christmas, but I meant to pray right straight on ; and I 
 never thought about there being any wrong in it." 
 Then she described the real delight of the week without 
 Miss Sherburne, and the evening of her wonderful luck ; 
 her great surprise ; her waiting for inquiries to be made 
 about the money, her assurance that it did not belong to 
 Miss Hendricks or Miss Sherburne ; that Cassy nor any 
 one in the house had lost it. 
 
 " I never thought of the quarters," said Dell. " I 
 had been forbidden to go there. And Miss Sherburne 
 seemed to think none of them told the truth, and that 
 they were not honest. I was afraid the wrong person 
 would claim it." 
 
 " Stop here and tell me what the money was like, it 
 you can remember," interposed the doctor. " We must 
 have it correctly identified." 
 
 " It was as Lizzy said. There was one old bill, a little 
 worn, with ragged edges, and two good ones, but they 
 had been in the damp, and blown about in that queer 
 little whirl. And it seemed so strange just as if my 
 prayer was answered. 1 can't understand 
 
 " There are a good many puzzles, child. I wonder 
 what you would have done if you had been home with 
 the Murrays?" and the doctor glanced curiously down 
 into the brown eyes. 
 
 " Why I should have taken it to mamma. But then I 
 shouldn't have wanted anything She paused, 
 
 blushing and confused. "I knew I could have it re-
 
 ;}(K) SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 placed. I wanted to get away so dreadfully that I 
 did not think of anything else. Was it so very, very 
 wrong ? " 
 
 " What do you think of it now ? " he asked, with tender 
 gravity. 
 
 I suppose it wasn't right," hesitatingly. 
 
 " Is it a matter of supposition ? " 
 
 There was a great struggle in Dell's soul. She raised 
 her head bravely. Her eyes were full of tears. 
 
 " No ; it was not honest. Papa Murray said so, and he 
 begged me to try at once to find the owner. But I 
 never touched a penny of Miss Sherburne's. And I have 
 all the money." 
 
 Dell gave a long, quivering sob. 
 
 " I am glad you are a girl. I do not suppose there will 
 ever come a temptation of this kind again in your life. 
 But if it had been my boy " 
 
 " Couldn't you forgive him? " she besought piteously. 
 
 " Yes, I should forgive him. Fathers and mothers 
 always do. But it would have almost broken my heart. 
 * Like as a father pitieth his children,' and if the Lord had 
 not known that was the nearest to the divine love he 
 could not have used it. But I should always wonder if 
 he would be proof against temptation in the future." 
 
 "Oh," she sobbed, "you will not like me any more. 
 And I was beginning to feel so happy here. Maybe Miss 
 Sherburne is right, and I am a miserable, deceitful little 
 wretch: But I never was until I came here. Oh, if I 
 could only be Dell Murray again." 
 
 She made a confused and desperate effort to get away. 
 Her heart was full of passionate anguish. 
 
 " My child," his arms gently restrained her. " Listen 
 you must not cry so, or I shall have to carry you to bed 
 at once, and you will miss seeing Homer. And I care a 
 great deal for you. I am glad you had the courage to 
 tell me the story in such a straightforward manner. I
 
 LOOKING THROUGH OTHER EYES. 301 
 
 had heard the most of it from Mr. Whittingham and I 
 
 do not suppose the Murrays really approved of it." There 
 was almost a smile in his voice. 
 
 "No, they didn't," admitted Dell. "But they were 
 glad to see me. And oh, I think I should have died if I 
 hadn't gone somewhere ! " 
 
 " It has been a sad tangle, and I am very glad for 
 Miss Sherburne's sake, as well as your own, that it is 
 going to be properly cleared up " 
 
 "I'm glad the money belongs to some one else. She 
 must have known it was not hers ! " Dell said, the sense 
 of injury still rankling in her soul at the remembrance of 
 the unjust accusation. 
 
 " You both have something to forgive. My poor child, 
 try to be a little tranquil, or you will fall seriously ill 
 again, and Miss Sherburne will have no faith in my 
 prescription of change." 
 
 Miss Neale opened the door gently. 
 
 " Sheba has supper a little earlier than usual, as she 
 wants to go out. Will you come?" 
 
 ' Yes. First I am going to give my little girl a dose of 
 the elixir of peace, and let her lie quiet here on the sofa. 
 Then she shall have a bit of toast. We have an important 
 case on hand this evening, and it stands us in hand u> 
 have our wits sharpened." 
 
 He kissed her fondly as he laid her down. Her arm* 
 still clung to his neck. 
 
 " You are so good," she murmured brokenly. 
 
 " I want to be good enough to fill papa Murray's place, 
 here, to you. My poor little lamb, you need a friend 
 sadly." 
 
 He prepared a composing draught, and Dell swallowed 
 it meekly. 
 
 "Now, take a little nap if you can. Dismiss all 
 troubles from your mind." 
 
 He touched the soft hair lightly, almost as if he had
 
 SHERBURNE HOt'SK. 
 
 breathed a benediction over her. The throbbing nerves 
 -subsided presently, but she could not even feel sleepy. 
 Many thoughts crowded into her mind. A curious con- 
 >ciousness that she had never experienced before, a sense 
 of individual responsibility, the sudden enlightenment of 
 soul that comes late to some children; indeed, in not a 
 lew lives. The delightful indifference had passed for- 
 ever. Yet she clung to the departing brightness, as if the 
 rest of her days must pass in a sort of semi-shade, where 
 the very sunshine might have a right and a wrong. For 
 Oiity does not always put on her golden side as she comes 
 to us in the morning,
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE DUTY NEAREST. 
 
 DOCTOR CAREW ate his supper with unusual gravity. 
 He wished this trying event had not occurred just at this 
 juncture. Dell had not gained enough strength to cope 
 with it successfully. He hated to have her nerves 50 
 shaken up. There were various aspects of the case that 
 ought to be settled now, once for all. Yet he was as glad 
 as the child to have the mystery solved in this creditable 
 manner. 
 
 Miss Neale glanced anxiously at him, and suddenly he 
 intercepted her eyes. 
 
 " Lizzy told you, doubtless. There is no question in my 
 mind as to the real ownership of the money. The thing 
 that does bother me is the conviction that it would be un- 
 wise to get it all settled without giving notice to Miss 
 Sherburne. We have always been such good friends. 
 And for the sake of Dell's future friendship with us, I 
 should hate to have any uncomfortable feelings. But if 1 
 went to her I should lose my temper. It really was 
 monstrous to accuse the poor child with no better cer- 
 tainty than she had. Dell will always feel this keenly. 
 If Miss Sherburne loved her, it would not be hard to say 
 she was mistaken. But she will not condescend that 
 much. It would be cowardly to send you ; it would be 
 too great a triumph to ask Dell to write, though nothing 
 would suit the midget better. It is cruel to cut her off 
 from such an enjoyment! " and he gave a humorous halfc 
 smile. 
 
 " There is Mr. Whittingham." 
 
 303
 
 :i04 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "True. Thank you, Neale. I was floundering round 
 in a hole. Whittingham is the very one, and it will be a 
 secret delight to him. He is unusually interested in the 
 child. And Dell will take that reasonably. To-morrow 
 she won't be fit for the least thing. I'm sorry enough 
 this came so soon." 
 
 "You think she realizes" tender as Miss Neale 
 was, it was not her nature to make compromises with 
 wrong. 
 
 "She has never had much thinking to do. I hate 
 prigs and supersensitive children who are continually on 
 the stool of repentance. She'll be sorry all her life long, 
 though she did it with the utmost innocence. She went 
 to praying, and really, she is not the first one who has 
 helped to answer her own prayer." He smiled a little, 
 with a dreamy expression in his eyes. " You see if Miss 
 Sherburne had shown even ordinary kindness, this never 
 could have happened. Among them all there ought to 
 be some one to evince a little affection for the child. 
 But all those girls have taken the cue from their elders." 
 
 " Millicent made a very earnest endeavor to be 
 friendly." 
 
 "Yes, I saw that. And Dell almost snubbed her. 
 But then Millicent could make allowance." 
 
 " Ef you please, Marse Doctor, Homer Jackson's 
 come." 
 
 . "Give him a good cup of tea, Dinah. I'll see him 
 presently." Then the doctor looked helplessly at Miss 
 Neale. "We always do burn our fingers with other 
 people's chestnuts," he said ruefully. " Make a bit of 
 toast." 
 
 He returned to Dell. She was lying there with wide- 
 open eyes. 
 
 "You are bad at minding." He shook his head 
 slowly, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. " Will 
 you have some supper? "
 
 THE DUTY NEAREST. 305 
 
 " No," she answered. 
 
 He felt her pulse. "You must eat some toast Miss 
 Neale is making, or you will mortally offend her. 
 Homer has come over. We'll hear his story, and then 
 turn him over to Mr. Whittingham for a settlement." 
 
 " But / must give him the money " 
 
 "My dear," the doctor took both hands in his own, 
 " I am going to ask you to be noble enough to give up 
 this gratification. You have the right, of course. But 
 to count out Miss Sherburne so utterly will only widen 
 the breach. It can never be talked over, but will 
 rankle between you, and if you mean to make a new 
 beginning " 
 
 Dell's heart swelled, and her eyes filled as she com- 
 pressed her quivering lips. 
 
 " Couldn't you do it to please me, if from no higher 
 motive ? " and his entreating tone touched her. 
 
 " But I wanted " the voice was full of pathos. 
 
 " We will have Homer come in and state his side, and 
 you shall say whatever you like. And believe me, some 
 time you will be glad that you turned the case over to 
 Mr. Whittingham. No one can say Homer took the 
 advantage of a child, or that the proof was not suffi- 
 ciently convincing. It will really be better for him 
 
 Miss Neale came in with the toast on one of her cen- 
 tury-old china plates. She bent over and kissed Dell 
 with a tenderness that was revivifying. 
 
 The child crowded down a few mouthfuls and drank 
 some milk. 
 
 " Couldn't I sit up?" she asked weakly. 
 
 " Why, of course." Then the doctor settled her in the 
 great splint chair, and put a stool for her feet. 
 
 " Now, are you ready ? " he asked. 
 
 Dell nodded. 
 
 Homer came in, glancing with furtive curiosity at 
 Dell, as he nervously fingered his old wool hat. He
 
 306 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 was a tall mulatto, rather thin and stooping in the 
 shoulders, looking a good dozen years older than his 
 age. 
 
 " This is Miss Lyndell Sherburne," said the doctor. 
 " She found a sum of money some time ago, and has 
 been waiting to hear inquiries made about it. Then she 
 was ill, you know. So she set Cassy at trying to find 
 the owner. And now we want to hear your story." 
 
 " You'se berry good, Marse Doctor." He bowed 
 with some embarrassment. "An" de young Missy. 
 Yes, I jes' done los' fifteen dollars, squar'. I kin 'mem- 
 ber jes' how dey looked. Ef I cud see it I'd tell in a 
 minnit," his face brightening with a certain assurance. 
 
 A flush mounted to the very edge of Dell's brow. 
 The money could never be identified in that manner. 
 
 "Let's hear your story first, Homer. We'll trust a 
 good deal to your word." 
 
 " Well, Marse Doctor, 'twar August twenty-six. 
 Marse Chawls Mason look ober de books en git dem 
 riggers. Der was tree fibe dollar bills, one ole en ragged. 
 I tok de short cut tru de Pines, en as I struk dem, my 
 pipe done gib out. I clar fergit I put de money in dat 
 pocket, 'cause turrer one had busted out wid some nails. 
 So I jes' fill my pipe an" fin' one match, den I come on 
 jes' above Sherbon' House en cross the carri'ge road, en 
 shuffle on ober to quarters. My little gal cut her han' 
 pooty bad, en I nebber min' about dat ar money tell 
 after .supper, en I cayn't fin' it nowher'. When de chil- 
 len go to bed Lizzy sweep de room, en we hunt and hunt 
 outside en in. Den I "member 'bout fillin' my pipe, so 
 nex' mawnin' yarly I goes ober all de way. En for t'ree 
 er four days I huntin' all my spare time, en cayn't find 
 hide ner hair ob dem. Den I done tell Julius, en he 
 hones' as de law en de gospel bof. En he say he keep 
 sharp lookout fer every one free wid deir money like dey 
 ain't earned it hones'. But he nebber hear no 'quirin'.
 
 THE DUTY NEAREST. 307 
 
 En we bof search, but we nebber fin' dat ar money. 
 'Twas monst'ous car'less, Marse Doctor, en like lookin' 
 ter needle in stack er hay ! I done tell Marse Chaw Is 
 'bout it, but I don' say much. Der's so many wuthless 
 niggers roun'. En dey hab sight er trouble up to de big 
 house wid Missy en all. Den Lizzy say nebber min' so 
 much worryin'. ' De good Lawd he gib me de nussin' 
 ob Miss Dell, en dat make it straight.' " 
 
 Dell was crying softly, with a strange thankfulness 
 that she had made some amends by her very illness. 
 
 " En yuh fin" 'em, Missy, so Cassy said. Seems like 
 a mir'cle. I'se payin' fer a bit er groun', en dat ar sum 
 seem monst'ous big fer a pore hard-wurkin' darky to 
 lose. Shorely de Lawd will bless you, Missy, fer keepin' 
 it safe, en yuh sick en all! En I hopes I've made it 
 plain, Marse Doctor. Homer Jackson ain't no t'ievin'. 
 lyin' nigger." 
 
 " If Miss Lyndell is satisfied. She can tell you where 
 she found it. The description of the bills is correct." 
 
 11 It was just at the edge of the path up by the house, 
 tangled in some leaves. The wind must have blown 
 it there. And I know it must be yours, for no one in the 
 house lost any. I'm so glad to find the owner." 
 
 "Tank yuh, Missy, a hundred times." Homer made 
 a shuffling bow. " Fer yuh kin tell Missy dat I wouldn't 
 'sturb de house en hunt roun* fer somfin' I ain't loss. 
 I jes' 'spected some of dem triflin' niggers fin* it en 
 spend it fer rum en frolickin'. En we all hope, Missy, 
 ynh'll git well en grow up 'to be our young Mistis, fer 
 <!ough we ain't slaves any more, we doan fergit all deol' 
 times. But yuh look mighty slim en white, en Lizzy she 
 < iy jes' a mir'cle yuh pull tru. De good doctor, he jes' 
 done his bes'." 
 
 Dell raised her head and tried to clear her throat of 
 the sobs that would swell up in it. 
 
 " Mr. Whittingham will give you the money," she
 
 308 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 said, in a steady tone. " And I shall never forget that I 
 owe my life to Lizzy and Doctor Carew." 
 
 " I'll see Whittingham to-morrow, Homer." 
 
 The man worked his way slowly toward the door, 
 pulling at his old hat, and reiterating his thankfulness 
 and his best wishes for Missy. 
 
 She leaned her head down on the doctor's shoulder. 
 
 "You shall do just as you think best," she said 
 tremulously. 
 
 " I think it best for you to go to bed at once," he sub- 
 joined, with a kind of gay peremptoriness. "I'll carry 
 you up, and Miss Neale shall come and soothe your 
 shaken nerves. All the rest will keep. There'll be a 
 new day." 
 
 She made no objection. He gave her some tender, 
 fatherly kisses that comforted her inmost soul. But she 
 was desperately tired. It seemed an effort even to 
 breathe as she lay in her comfortable cot, and though 
 she heard the tranquil sound of Miss Carew's voice, she 
 could not follow the lines or even remember the subject. 
 Her brain was in a tangle concerning the money, and 
 her nerves in a worse tangle of utter fatigue. Indeed, 
 she had quite a restless night, and the doctor felt really 
 anxious the next morning. 
 
 "There's not much strength to go upon yet," lie 
 said to his sister. " I do not believe she would have 
 recovered up at Sherburne House. And Neale, we 
 are the second set of conspirators to keep Len Beau- 
 nianoir out of a handsome heritage. Do you feel 
 guilty?" 
 
 She smiled faintly. " Whatever is God's will 
 
 " His will is that we shall do our whole duty, not half 
 or quarter because we prefer some other result. I think 
 if Dell were to die, Miss Sherburne would absolutely 
 fret herself into the grave, going over all the things she 
 might have done. It's curious what an amount of self-
 
 THE DUTY NEAREST. 309 
 
 condemnation really good people can have, and be so 
 unwilling to make a change in their present line of con- 
 duct. Of course it is hard all around. For I think Dell 
 would have been quite as happy growing up with the 
 Murrays. Well, we must trust to the future and do our 
 best in the present." 
 
 Lyndell slept all the morning. The doctor took in 
 Mr. Whittingham, who was very glad the solution of 
 the mystery had been reached. 
 
 " For various reasons, great as the pleasure would be 
 to Lyndell to restore the money with her own hands, I 
 think it better that she should have nothing more to do 
 with it. If you will see Miss Sherburne and give her 
 the option of examining Homer, and pay him yourself, 
 there can be no trouble made for the future. It is not 
 giving the child any authority over Miss Sherburne's 
 head." 
 
 " Yes, yes, you are quite right. And I see it will be 
 much better for me to take the responsibility. I'll 
 ride over this afternoon. And the child is doing 
 nicely ?" 
 
 " Not as well as I could wish. All this excitement 
 has been bad. But it had to get settled some time." 
 
 Late in the afternoon Mr. Whittingham made his 
 nppearance at Sherburne House, to learn that the 
 Jadies were out driving, but expected back every mo- 
 ment. He was glad of the opportunity to assure Cassy 
 that there was no doubt of the money belonging to 
 Homer. 
 
 "If you please, Mr. Whittin'am," said Cassy, in her 
 soft-toned, but pleading manner. " I'd rather you 
 wouldn't say Miss Dell put me up to ask. Miss Sher- 
 burne would feel as if I'd interfered some way. I've 
 been awful careful and on guard, 'cause it would only 
 'a' made trouble and not helped the poor child." 
 
 "Yes, I understand," nodding appreciatively.
 
 310 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Miss Sherburne certainly had improved with the 
 change. A delicate pink shadowed her cheeks again, 
 and the sharpness had vanished from her features. 
 A little of it crept back as she listened to his story. 
 
 " I do not wish to take any part in the matter," she- 
 said haughtily. " If you are convinced, that is suffi- 
 cient. The money does not belong to any one in thi; 
 house. I was afraid at first Lyndell had taken it, but 
 my accounts show no deficiency, and I wrote to inquire 
 of Miss Hendricks. The simple truth at first would 
 have saved much trouble ; but it is an old adage that 
 what is bred in the bone is certain to find a way out. 
 I hope this will be a sufficient lesson to the child, and 
 that some time she will come to appreciate the good for- 
 tune that certainly has been thrust upon her, and found 
 her every way unfitted for it." 
 
 "Very well," he commented. "Since you do not 
 care to question Homer " 
 
 " I wash my hands of the whole business." 
 
 He rose. Her invitation to remain to tea was lacking 
 in its usual hospitality ; but he had no desire to stay, 
 since he wished to see Homer and pay over the money. 
 He felt disappointed at Miss Sherburne's lofty indiffer- 
 ence ; it seemed as if she might have softened toward 
 Dell. Homer Jackson's honesty was rarely called in 
 question. Of course it was something for her to admit 
 that she had not lost it. 
 
 Indeed it did not seem possible now to Miss Sher- 
 burne that she had made this terribly unjust accusation 
 in such an unreasonable manner. It was simply what 
 any one would have suspected. Any mother would 
 have had a right to question a child. Dell's duty was 
 to bring her the sum of money immediately on her 
 return, when she might have made an effort to find the 
 owner. There certainly wax concealment, which was 
 the first step toward dishonesty. On the whole, Lyndell
 
 THE DUTY NEAREST. ;m 
 
 had escaped the real responsibility. Her journey and 
 her temper had brought about the illness. 
 
 True, there were certain twinges of conscience con- 
 cerning the days she had kept the child confined to her 
 room. She even hated to think she had deprived her of 
 her regular meals. But what punishment was there for 
 such a great, defiant girl ! 
 
 The society of her nieces had already proved an ines- 
 timable benefit to Miss Sherburne. It had relaxed her 
 strenuous train of thought. She had brooded contin- 
 ually over Dell's defects since the first unlucky glance 
 that June afternoon. The natural antipathy had been 
 intensified. But Mrs. Lepage's broader ideas, and the 
 certainty that this was Edward's child, the philosophical 
 acceptance of the fact by the others, while their disap- 
 pointment was none the less keen, disposed her to less 
 bitter thoughts. There was the pleasant excitement of 
 friends dropping in, the gayety and confusion of the 
 children in their eager deliglu, where before had reigned 
 an almost unendurable solitude of retrospect and disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 She was quite relieved that Mr. Whittingham should 
 settle the matter in his own way. That Dell should have 
 had a voice in it, or relinquished any satisfaction, did not 
 occur to her. And she resolved never to refer to it. It 
 u ould be best to treat the whole escapade with severe 
 silence. Lyndell should have no excuse for considering 
 it a heroic exploit. 
 
 She announced to her nieces the conclusion. Mrs. 
 Beaumanoir was unfeignedly glad, and the Masons 
 added their share of gratulation. Homer Jackson was a 
 very fair carpenter, and in much demand as a man who 
 could be depended upon better than the average of his 
 compeers. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham came over to the doctor's that ever 
 ing. He found Dell pale and languid, with great rings 
 
 i
 
 312 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 under her eyes. She smiled gratefully and thanked him 
 for his kindness, but seemed disinclined for any special 
 conversation. 
 
 And all the next day Miss Neale remarked the silence, 
 and surprised tears in her eyes now and then. She was 
 not sullen or cold, but the gladness of the first few days 
 seemed to have vanished, and left her a pitiful little 
 ghost. She laid on the old sofa and watched the kitten^ 
 race and play, but there was an absent expression in her 
 eyes. She listened to the soft voice reading, but it was 
 with a dreamy aspect, as though the soul was wander- 
 ing in some other land. 
 
 It was lowering, with a rather high wind in the after- 
 noon, so there could be no thought of a drive. The 
 doctor was over in the next town, where there had been 
 a railroad accident. Bedtime came before he returned. 
 
 " I hope you are not homesick," Miss Neale said 
 gently, as she tucked her in and kissed her. 
 
 " I couldn't be homesick for anything that that it 
 was right for me to have. I've gone out of the old 
 world where everything came without any thought. And 
 now I have to think. It seems as if I was so old, almost 
 grown up. I can't get fitted into the new life. Some- 
 thing jars and troubles me." 
 
 " Can't you tell me ?" 
 
 Dell put her arms about Miss Carew's neck. " No," 
 she replied slowly. "There isn't enough to tell any 
 one. It's all a tangle. I wouldn't know where to 
 begin." 
 
 " Maybe you'll find an end by to-morrow. Some- 
 times it takes two people to pick out a skein of yarn, 
 when it has been badly reeled. And if you want any 
 help you need not go far for it." 
 
 "Thank you," Lyndell said gravely. 
 
 Miss Carew had kindled a bit of fire on the hearth. 
 Dell watched the fitful blaze and the soft shadows that
 
 THE DUTY NEAREST. 313 
 
 seemed playing hide-and-seek about the room. She was 
 not sleepy. She had thought until her brain was in a 
 state of restless commotion, until she was like one grop- 
 ing in the dark, afraid to go any farther, and not know- 
 ing how to turn back, indeed fearing in some mysterious 
 way that there was no going back. Everything was so 
 changed. She could see the joyous, thoughtless, laugh- 
 ing Dell Murray, quite as if she was some other girl. 
 And the strange thing about it was that loving all the 
 Murrays as she did, she didn't really want to go back and 
 be her olden self. 
 
 For somehow she had a vague misgiving that the 
 olden self was not quite what she used to imagine. She 
 saw so many things that made her flush, with her face 
 almost buried in the pillow. When she first came to 
 Sherburne, indeed, all the summer, she had been eager 
 to keep the old individuality. But would she have de- 
 ceived and tried to outwit Mamma Murray ? Then she 
 was not good. She had not been good at all ! It was so 
 keenly humiliating. 
 
 She had not reasoned enough in her short life to 
 separate the causes from the acts. She was over- 
 whelmed, almost angry, to think Miss Sherburne had 
 been in any degree right, yet her extreme honesty for- 
 bade the glaring injustice of believing that she had 
 always suffered innocently. How soon she had begun 
 to deceive ! She saw the child stealing down to the 
 library true, the books had not been forbidden, but 
 she knew they would have been, or kept under strict 
 regulations, if she had asked. She had secretly gloried 
 in her strategy. She had thought it heroic to run away. 
 It did not look so now. Little as she had heeded papa 
 Murray's tender chiding then, it all came back to her. 
 She could see the softly upbraiding eyes looking into 
 hers. And mamma, who had always been so good to 
 her ! She had lowered them in Miss Sherburne's esti-
 
 314 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 mation by her own heedless acts. She ought to have 
 shown the honor and uprightness of their training. Ah, 
 what a miserable little wretch she had been ! The sense 
 of shame brought quick tears to her eyes, the pillow was 
 quite wet with them. Oh, how were people good ami 
 patient and noble, even when things went wrong? Why 
 did these thoughts come to trouble her when she was so 
 ill and forlorn ? Her head ached, her pulses throbbed. 
 Yet through all the distress there came a striving for 
 something she had not hitherto known, the first awaken- 
 ing of a new and sacred life, in her rightful place, as her 
 father's daughter. Some vague impressions of her own 
 mother seemed to awaken new desires within her, the 
 faint reaching out of seed that had lain buried and was 
 now pushing itself upward to God's own atmosphere. 
 
 The fire died down presently. The soft darkness 
 folded her about like a garment. Would God hear if 
 she called to him ? Oh, for what should she pray ? For 
 a chance to begin life over again ? Had not God given 
 her that when he kept her from going out in darkness. 
 What if she had died then ? She shuddered at the 
 thought. She did not want to die, and oh, she was not 
 good enough to die. Was she even good enough to stay 
 here with the doctor and Miss Neale ? 
 
 Long afterward, it seemed as if it must be almost 
 morning she heard wheels crunching slowly around, 
 and a cheerful whinny of the doctor's horse ; presently 
 his voice, with some earnest inflections, and she could 
 fancy Miss Neale answering. 
 
 When they came upstairs she heard him say : 
 
 " The best thing that you could do. A good night's 
 sleep will do more for her than medicine. I hope she 
 will begin to improve again to-morrow, now that she has 
 nothing on her poor little conscience." 
 
 When Miss Neale came in she was snuggled down 
 in the bed, and kept very, very still.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE. 
 
 WHEN she finally fell asleep the stronghold of seeming 
 was gone. She was very restless, with long, irregular 
 sighs, broken as if something distressed her. She was 
 dreaming over fragments of that secret journey. Miss 
 Neale rose presently, and looked at her. Her pulse was 
 racing along, her face flushed and hot, with a feverish 
 inclination. She was so used to ministering, she was al- 
 most as good as a doctor herself. She went down- 
 stairs, for she would not disturb the doctor, and fixed a 
 composing draught, with a touch of anti-febrile, and ad- 
 ministered it without thoroughly rousing the child. 
 
 " Poor little dear," she said softly to herself. " It has 
 been a rough transplanting to an unfriendly soil. Some 
 one ought to temper the sun and the shade to her, soften 
 the ground by gentle touches, and set her to growing 
 rightly. All the rest of her life will be made or marred 
 by it." 
 
 She was sleeping when the doctor went out to an early 
 call. He looked in upon her. She was pale enough 
 now, her skin full of fine blue lines, as if all the red 
 blood had gone out of them. 
 
 She was so grave when Miss Neale helped her dress 
 and gave her a dainty little breakfast. Then she sat by 
 the window, and looked out on the rain that wrapped 
 everything about with a grey atmosphere, lighter or 
 deeper as the space was clear or the shrubbery thick. 
 Miss Neale had given her some pretty rose-colored 
 worsted to crochet. Sometimes she only wound it idly 
 315
 
 316 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 over her thin fingers. The nails she saw had changed a 
 good deal under Cassy's care." Really it wasn't such a 
 very bad hand, but she would like it a little fatter. 
 
 It was one of the very busy days for Miss Neale. An 
 old lady came in, dripping, so that she had Sheba hunt 
 her up some dry clothes. She was in no end of trouble 
 about her daughter, who wanted to marry a shiftless, in- 
 temperate fellow, and go North. They were all " poor 
 white folks," and there seemed nothing for the daughter 
 to do ; but the marriage was most ill-advised, and Miss 
 Neale finally decided the girl might come up and stay a 
 week with her, and do some sewing, while she tried to 
 persuade her out of such an unfortunate step. Then a 
 young negro woman whose husband had deserted her, 
 and left her with the care of twin babies, came for some 
 sympathy and counsel. Miss Neale sent her out in the 
 kitchen to have a good dinner while she and Dell had 
 theirs, and afterward she looked up some clothing and 
 promised to use her best endeavors to find the poor thing 
 something to do that would give her a home. After that 
 one or two more interruptions, and Dell was left much 
 more to her own thoughts than Miss Neale liked. 
 
 They were not joyous ones. As Miss Neale flitted out 
 and in, with her delicate motions that never jarred or 
 touched or whirled anything about ; the pervading, cling- 
 ing grace that was so like a strain of music ; a sweetness, 
 the scent of some flowers when the dew was falling, or 
 rather a commingling of it ; an " atmosphere " as Dell 
 came to know afterward, a repose that really quieted one, 
 it was so free from stiffness, so little suggestive of rules ; 
 a harmonious presence, a loss of something when she 
 went she smiled over to Dell ; she gave her a gracious 
 or tender word ; she brought a handful of flowers and 
 laid them on the table for Dell to arrange. Everything 
 was so restful, so purely comfortable, that Dell, with her 
 newly awakened conscience, was beginning to feel that
 
 PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE. 317 
 
 she had no right to. it until something had been ex- 
 piated. 
 
 She was taking this under some semblance that pricked 
 her more and more. 
 
 At mid-afternoon the doctor returned. The few cases 
 on the slate were of no real importance. The clouds 
 were so thick now that it was almost dark enough to be 
 night. Dinah made him a good cup of coffee. He 
 donned dressing-gown and slippers ; entered the room 
 where the forlorn little figure seemed to have dropped 
 altogether, collapsed. But the big brown eyes lighted, 
 and the lip gave a little quiver of a smile. 
 
 "You've had a long day mostly by yourself, Miss 
 Neale tells me, and it hasn't chirked you up a bit. It's 
 been one of her ' ministering angel ' days, I call them, 
 when the wretched and the forlorn and the generally in- 
 efficient come in to be comforted and set straight about 
 their ways. But you don't look as if any one had com- 
 forted you much." 
 
 He pinched her cheek with a gentle touch. 
 
 " Do you want to go back to Sherburne House ? " 
 
 "I'm not sure but I ought," she answered slowly. 
 
 " What now ? Do you want to get back to the brick- 
 making of Egypt ? Isn't the manna in the wilderness 
 satisfactory ? ' ' 
 
 Dell winked hard. It was so foolish to cry over every 
 little thing. 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't just deserve the manna," she re- 
 turned hesitatingly. 
 
 " Well, these poor little bird's claws don't look much 
 like making brick. And I am afraid dancing and feast- 
 ing are beyond you. They are indulging in that at Sher- 
 burne House. And as for deserving 
 
 He stirred the fire and put on some cedar branches. 
 Then he drew up the big chair, gathered Dell in his arms, 
 and seated himself comfortably.
 
 318 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 "What have you been doing all day ? Not eating or 
 sleeping, Miss Neale tells me." 
 
 "I've been thinking,'- she made answer slowly. "I 
 don't believe I ever knew about myself till now." 
 
 " You will go on all your life making discoveries, my 
 little one," he said tenderly. " And what have you found 
 out? Clearly, it hasn't been exhilarating. Perhaps it 
 would be better to wait a little 
 
 " I can't," she cried decisively. " I want you to know 
 I want Miss Neale to know that that I have done a 
 great many bad things beside running away ! And it 
 seems dishonest to take all this kindness, and have you 
 pity me and care for me, and believe the best of me, 
 when I'm not half as good as I used to be ; when I have 
 grown worse ever since I came to Sherburne House. I 
 didn't seem to understand it at first. I feel as if I had 
 been dumb and blind and just had my eyes opened 
 
 She drew a long, sobbing breath, and thrust back 
 the overflow of weeping that surged up like a great 
 wave. 
 
 " My dear child." Doctor Carew held her closer in 
 tender pity. " You are weak and nervous and must not 
 excite yourself so. When you have understood your- 
 self, through these eyes of the soul, you have made the 
 greatest discovery human beings ever achieve. You 
 can walk out into the right way, in the light ; and though 
 one stumbles often we all do but with one's feet set 
 straight, we can go on with a certain confidence. My 
 little pilgrim, I do not think you can have wandered 
 very far astray in these few months. Come, you shall 
 tell me all that is troubling you." 
 
 " I don't know where to begin," Dell said slowly. " I 
 feel somehow as if I had tumbled off a high place where 
 I felt proud and safe, and kind of elated, don't you 
 know, as if no one could get me away. And I've just 
 slipped and scrambled, and feel bruised and torn, and
 
 PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE. 319 
 
 now it seems as if I'd never had any real right up there, 
 
 and was ashamed and all " 
 
 "The great hill of self-esteemis that it? Do you 
 know the old line : 
 
 He that is down need fear no fall. 
 
 And you were thinking yourself safe beyond a peradven- 
 ture, but the wise Man said, ' Let him that thinketh he 
 standeth, take heed lest he fall.' And you were not 
 taking heed ? " 
 
 " I wasn't thinking, even " Dell straightened herself 
 a little, as if to catch and hold clearly the threads of the 
 past that looked so mysterious to her. "You know at 
 Mamma Murray's we just lived straight along. We 
 weren't always good." She made a long pause. "But 
 I suppose I was used to all the ways, and when I came 
 to Sherburne House it was so different. There wasn't 
 anything I could do. There wasn't any baby to tend, 
 nor errands, nor sweeping, nor making the garden tidy, 
 nor playing with lots of children. And I was dressed in 
 Sunday clothes all the time. And I had to walk just so. 
 I couldn't run or jump or sing or make any kind of noise. 
 And " he could feel the swelling of her pulses under the 
 rush of indignation " she didn't want me ! I couldn't 
 understand at first why I hadto stay there ; I don't see 
 now why they didn't leave me with the Murrays until I 
 was a young lady it would have been easier (or them." 
 
 "It would not have been legally right. You'll find, 
 some time, that a good conscience obeys the strict letter 
 of the law, even if something else looks pleasanter. It 
 has been very hard for you. I don't wonder you stum- 
 bled over the Hill Difficulty and lost the way. It was 
 so different from Mrs. Murray's pleasant garden. 
 Well " inquiringly. 
 
 "After a while I just didn't care," said Dell, with a.
 
 320 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 touch of the old independence. "When I couldn't do 
 anything right, or if I did do just what she told me, she 
 always looked as if she wished she had made it harder. 
 And I hated the music and the French, and being shut 
 up ! " 
 
 " Yes," he subjoined, in an appreciative tone. 
 
 "And I did things Her face dropped down 
 
 again on his shoulder, and her voice had a great tremble 
 in it. " They were deceitful and not honest. I'd like to 
 tell you I meant to tell Miss Neale, but she seems so 
 white and beautiful, as if knowing the badness would 
 hold her away from me." 
 
 "No, it wouldn't, my dear child ; never imagine that. 
 But I am father confessor to the whole country. I've 
 heard so many bad things that your little sins won't look 
 very black. Go on." 
 
 Hesitatingly she confessed the stolen pleasures that 
 had simply seemed a child's shrewdness then, the in- 
 alienable right of self-defence. The pauses, the faltering 
 when he knew tears were uppermost, touched him inex- 
 pressibly. He could see how these experiences had 
 come to have a vitalizing influence upon the really fine 
 and honest substratum of her nature. Her moral intro- 
 spection had been awakened, and the inherited virtues 
 shaped by Densie Murray's generous training had come 
 to the top again ; while the dross would float off. 
 
 " My dear child," he began, " I am not going to say 
 these were trifling faults, for the beginnings of all sins 
 and moral lapses are much more important than we are 
 apt to admit. If you had not seen them yourself, they 
 might have become such sources of danger as to color 
 your whole future, to keep you from attaining any really 
 fine height. You are only a little girl as yet, but you 
 are fashioning the future mistress of Sherburne House, 
 who will have a great deal in her hands, who can make 
 herself honored and beloved, who can bring back pleas-
 
 PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE. 321 
 
 ant memories of her father, and diffuse an atmosphere 
 of happiness in a wide circle. So you see it is time you 
 began to consider the sort of woman you desire to be. 
 Not that you are to outgrow childhood with a bound. I 
 hope much of its joyousness will remain in store for 
 you." 
 
 Dell crept closer into the shelter of the friendly arms 
 that were so protecting. 
 
 "I am glad you know," she said, in a soft tone. 
 " And if I might stay till I get real strong " 
 
 " Stay of course until you get tired of us! " And 
 he laughed with the warm, mellow music like the sound 
 of bells coming through sunshine. 
 
 " Not till I get tired of you that would be always. 
 Oh I wish you and Miss Neale had been at Sher- 
 burne House." And her voice died lingeringly, as if 
 loth to let the wish depart into impossibility. " Will you 
 tell her all?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, if you wish it." 
 
 " I don't want to deceive any one and take kindnesses 
 and affection unworthily." She knew by the gentle 
 pressure that she was certain of love here, just as she 
 was with papa Murray. " And it has troubled me, 
 since I came to think it all over. It's so quiet here, and 
 I can't explain it seems to make you go softly and 
 slowly, and not rage around. I've had a very bad tem- 
 per at Sherburne House. I never did before." 
 
 "Was the quality of it tried before? Perhaps you 
 didn't know much about it?" 
 
 "If you think we children always did just what we 
 wanted to," she said, recurring to the Murrays, "you 
 are quite mistaken." The gravity of her tone kept it. 
 free from any suggestion of pertness. " Sometimes, when 
 I had promised the boys to come out for a good race, I 
 had to stay in and sew. But it was good, honest sew- 
 ing, something that was needed, not a bit of ruffling that
 
 322 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 was of no account, or trying to embroider red trees and 
 houses on a towel," she flung out with disdain, "and 
 mamma smiled so out of her eyes, and kissed you with 
 such sweet lips,- that if you'd felt a little cross at first, 
 you were all sunshine then, and ready to do something 
 else." 
 
 " I didn't mean quite that, my dear child. The wise 
 Man, who came to set the great example, told his fol- 
 lowers that the Gentiles had enough goodness of heart 
 to return kindness for kindness, love for love. And 
 he asked his disciples to take in the unthankful, the self- 
 ish, the oppressor, and even the evil-doer. So we are 
 not to measure our tempers or our willingness by the 
 ready manner we oblige those we love. It is when we 
 do 0/love that the real trial comes." 
 
 " And you think I ought to have been just as good at 
 Sherburne House." 
 
 Dell sat up very straight, indignant ; her pale cheek 
 showing a bright scarlet spot ; her eyes flashing. Truly 
 her illness had not routed the old Adamic inheritance. 
 
 "What do you think, my dear?" There was a soft, 
 almost amused expression in the doctor's face. 
 
 " I couldn't that's all," she cried decisively. 
 
 " The soul of the little girl wasn't changed. She was 
 taken out of the pleasant place where she had grown 
 happy and joyous and gay, because the great Gardener 
 said, ' I want to transplant this flower to a different soil, 
 in a larger place, where it can bud and blossom and 
 bear an abundance of rich, delightful fruit, that in time 
 will comfort and sustain weary, troubled souls ; and have 
 it grow so that the birds may come and sing in its 
 branches.' And so for days it is kept in a shady place, 
 it is pruned and trimmed, and, may be, left in solitude. 
 And what if it resolved not to grow what if it sent out 
 thorns and gnarled, scrubby shoots ? " 
 
 The spirit of defiance had gone slowly out of Dell's
 
 PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE. 323 
 
 face. This was a part of the work she had not been 
 considering. 
 
 " So you see the Lord put you in the new place, to 
 show what sweetness and strength you had gathered in 
 the old garden." 
 
 " And I didn't have any. And that's the way they 
 have come to blame Mamma Murray for so many 
 things. But they blamed her first. Because I wasn't 
 pretty, and my hair was almost red, and I wasn't grace- 
 ful, and did not know French or music, and it made me 
 angry ! I shall always be grateful that the Murrays 
 didn't put me in a home or an asylum, or send me to live 
 out, when they had so many children of their own." 
 
 "They were very noble about it. It is one of the 
 deeds I hope you will always remember. I think you 
 haven't quite forgotten the lessons." 
 
 Lyndell's head drooped, and the poor little face looked 
 pathetic. 
 
 " We older and wiser folk make a good many mis- 
 takes. Our writing on our fellow-creatures isn't much 
 like the clear, beautiful copy set us. But we can keep 
 trying. While we do that the Good Father knows our 
 souls are not quite astray." 
 
 " I haven't tried much not any," she said remorse- 
 fully. "I haven't considered the little things. I hated 
 to have Miss Sherburne think papa Murray broke his 
 word about the letters. I never supposed it was wrong " 
 Dell's face flushed hotly" yes. I must have known 
 it, or I wouldn't have asked Julius to take it secretly. 
 And they knew nothing whatever about my coming 
 home. But I suppose she will never believe that. And 
 it troubles me that I should have done so many things 
 that must lower them in her eyes. Oh, Doctor Carew, 
 what shall I do to help it ? " 
 
 " My child, you can only help it in the years to come. 
 It is a bitter lesson, but we cannot learn too soon that
 
 324 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 every wrong act causes some innocent person pain and 
 suffering. It is not simply that they take up a burthen 
 for us : it is we who thrust one upon them." 
 
 Dell leaned her head down on the friendly shoulder 
 again, and cried softly. It was so much worse than she 
 had thought. Indeed, until she came here, she had 
 thought very little about it in the sense of real responsi- 
 bility. 
 
 "Are you not tired of so much talking?" he asked 
 sympathetically. "You are not strong yet indeed, I 
 think you have dropped back a little." 
 
 "All these things worried me. And I was disap- 
 pointed in myself. Maybe Miss Sherburne is right, and 
 I am very bad." 
 
 " But God gives us chances to start afresh. And he 
 made this great break with a wise purpose. I think you 
 are truly sorry and that when you begin again it will be 
 with a new endeavor. He is always ready to help you. 
 You must not be afraid to ask him for strength and for 
 the right understanding of duty ; for assistance in all 
 things." 
 
 Dell was silent many minutes. Then she said in a 
 low, awed tone : " I prayed about the money. And it 
 came. If it was all wrong " 
 
 " My little pilgrim, you will find that a great many 
 prayers of this kind seem to be answered. The children 
 of Israel, journeying through the wilderness, asked for 
 many unwise things, to their great sorrow. Sometimes 
 God gives us our own way just to show us how wrong it 
 was, when nothing else perhaps would have convinced 
 us. There has a great deal been said and written on 
 this subject. The faith of ignorance and the faith of 
 childhood take everything direct from God, and it is a 
 delightful thing to see God so clearly. But we must 
 look on the other side before we are sure of our miracles. 
 And in this matter what would have been right at the
 
 PILGRIM AT THE WICKET GATE. 325 
 
 Murrays, would have been right with Miss Sherburne. 
 My dear," as Dell gave a quick sob, " this is one of the 
 cases where you must let the dead bury their dead. 
 You have made amends to the best of your ability so 
 far, and we are all very glad the money has gone to 
 its rightful owner. Just now you can do nothing more, 
 except to second all our efforts and get well as soon as 
 possible. I do believe I should like to see a bit of Dell 
 Murray as she was before the fortune came to her. But 
 you have talked quite enough and you must go to bed. 
 I hope you will come to me in any difficulty, in any 
 trouble. You see, but for all this episode, I should not 
 have known you in ever so long. And other mercies 
 may work out of the evil, in God's good providence." 
 
 He kissed her very fondly, poor, friendless little thing, 
 with a thorny path before her. Would she be brave 
 enough to tread it, without wrecking the noble life that 
 might be evolved ? She was frank, in spite of that curious 
 reticence so like obstinacy ; truthful, really honest with 
 her own soul, and that augured well for her future. 
 
 Sheba came in. Miss Neale was busy with some of 
 her poor parishioners. The doctor carried her upstairs, 
 and Sheba stayed and sang one of her wild, pathetic 
 hymns with a throbbing, musical refrain. 
 
 Dell lay there thinking over many things, and stirred 
 by a strange humility. Verses of the Psalms and gos- 
 pels that she had learned as punishments in the summer, 
 came floating back to her with meanings she had failed 
 utterly to see then. She stretched out her arms to that 
 greater Shepherd, longing to be taken into the fold Sheba 
 had been singing about. 
 
 Long afterward she heard a light step. 
 
 " Miss Neale," she said wistfully. 
 
 Miss Carew came and bent over her with a comforting 
 smile. Dell clasped her arms about the yielding neck, 
 and the lips met in kisses that said more than many words.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 
 
 THERE was coming to Lyndell Sherburne, from vari- 
 ous causes, a glimpse of spiritual life quite new, and it 
 touched her being in a fragmentary manner ; bringing 
 alternations of buoyancy, and then all the shades of de- 
 spondency. Something in the sweetness, the patience, 
 the tenderness, and, perhaps more than all, that high, 
 fair beauty that occasionally crowns middle life, so unlike 
 that of glad, volatile youth, roused the child with longing 
 and idealization that often lift up a young soul more than 
 efforts strenuously made for its advancement. 
 
 Miss Neale was very different from Mamma Murray. 
 That little woman's life had been circumscribed by ba- 
 bies and duties that had widened it out in affection, but 
 not in mental improvement. She was proud of having 
 her children educated. They would be smart and do 
 well, and get a nice bit of their own. The handsome rows 
 of houses just down below, the ladies driving about in 
 their carriages, the children with their maids, never roused 
 a touch of jealousy. She was happy and content with 
 her work, tender, upright, and true, and knew more of 
 what went to the making of healthy bodies than nervous 
 and introspective brains. 
 
 In this exuberant, almost riotous living, Dell had 
 slipped out of the more refined modes of her own mother's 
 training. The gladness and merriment had taken com- 
 plete possession of her soul. They were a more natural 
 aliment for childhood. But protest as she might at the 
 strict rule of Sherburne House, there was something in the 
 
 326
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 327 
 
 spacious rooms, the grand old furniture, the dignified 
 serving, the troops of servants, that impressed her. Her 
 few days at the Murrays had stamped the difference 
 more clearly on her plastic mind. If fortune had 
 brought her back to them for life, her affection would 
 soon have made her content, but she perceived, with the 
 larger distinction occasionally vouchsafed, that her future 
 sphere was to be different. 
 
 Yet it was Miss Carew who had reawakened the slum- 
 bering impression of her mother most vividly. The gen- 
 tle touch of the hand, the soft voice, the tender solicitude, 
 all wanting in Miss Sherburne, the habit of sitting at the 
 piano and playing plaintive melodies, sometimes singing 
 an old-fashioned ballad as day deepened into twilight, 
 touched the soul of the child inexpressibly. The four 
 years began to seem like something foreign grafted in her 
 life. 
 
 On Saturday Millicent drove over with a package of 
 clothing for Dell. Miss Carew was busy in the kitchen 
 with some delicate preparations. 
 
 " Go through into the other room, Milly you will find 
 her there. Viny, take Miss Beaumanoir's parcel." 
 
 Viny grinned, showing her white teeth from ear to ear, 
 and followed Millicent. Dell looked up, then flushed in 
 3. sort of embarrassment. She was trying to perfect some 
 pretty embroidery stitches that had been hateful in her 
 sight at Sherburne House. 
 
 After the first greetings were passed, Millicent began 
 to unfasten the bundle. 
 
 " Aunt Aurelia sent over several garments that have 
 been finished," she began. "And I hope you will not 
 think me presuming," with a cordial smile, "because I 
 have selected and partly made you a pretty gown, 
 thought I would like to do something for my little sick 
 cousin. And I chose pink because you were so very pale. 
 I hope you will not dislike the color."
 
 328 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 She threw it lightly over the chair beside Dell. It was 
 a beautiful pink flannel wrapper, with cuffs and collar of 
 soft brown velvet, and feather stitching done in the same 
 color. A long velvet ribbon tied it at the neck, and there 
 was a belt of the same. 
 
 From some inexplicable feeling Dell's soul rose in pro- 
 test. She hated to take favors from any of her new rela- 
 tions. Whatever Miss Sherburne did was in her capacity 
 as guardian, and she was free to resign her position any 
 time. The money spent on her came out of her father's 
 estate, and belonged to her. She wanted to be quite free 
 to like them or not ; to go on disliking was in her secret 
 heart. 
 
 "It is lovely," she said, with a brief intonation that 
 cutoff any feeling of enthusiasm. " You took a great deal 
 of trouble ' ' 
 
 " It was a pleasure to me I wish you would look at it 
 in that light. Cassy did the machine sewing, and she 
 enjoyed it as well. I was spending the day at Sherburne 
 House. An old friend has come with her two daughters. 
 She used to visit Sherburne House when Aunt Julia and 
 your papa were young. And the children are having a 
 merry time." 
 
 " You were very generous to think of me," Dell said 
 rather stiffly, her eyes fixed on the garment. "Thank 
 Cassy, and I am obliged to you." 
 
 Dell was so resolved to keep on the far outside that her 
 air and tone were ungracious. She had unwittingly im- 
 proved on Miss Sherburne's training. 
 
 Millicent was nonplussed. She had come with a peace 
 offering, not doubting but she should find a way to her 
 cousin's heart. Under some circumstances she could 
 have stepped over the barrier and clasped the pale, shrink- 
 ing girl in her arms, but she knew so little about her, and 
 she dreaded to be repulsed. While she was hesitating Miss 
 Carew entered, and a glance gave her the key to the situa-
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 329 
 
 tion. She could almost have shaken Dell for her dis- 
 trustful reserve. 
 
 Milly recovered her habitual graciousness at once, and 
 began a bright conversation about neighborhood incidents 
 and the expected return of Major and Mrs. Stanwood 
 from the West. Miss Carew would fain have kept her to 
 dinner, but she had some errands to do in town. 
 
 " I suppose I can carry back the cheering message 
 that you are improving," said Millicent, looking at Dell 
 with gentle beseechingness. " We are all so anxious to 
 have you get well." 
 
 Dell was obstinately silent. 
 
 " The week has been so unpleasant she has not been 
 able to go out much," interposed Miss Carew. " We 
 hope she will improve more rapidly by and by, when she 
 gets fairly started." 
 
 " Oh, there is the doctor," cried Millicent, as he drove 
 past. " I must see him a moment. Good-bye, my little 
 cousin. We shall all visit you at intervals to keep you 
 from forgetting us." 
 
 She kissed the almost protesting lips and gave Miss 
 Carew a graceful adieu, passing out quickly. 
 
 " What a beautiful gown ! Why, it quite throws mine 
 in the shade ! " declared Miss Carew. 
 
 " 1 like yours a thousand times better, dear Miss 
 Neale ! I wish she had not brought it. And she it 
 is her gift. I don't want anything, except just what is 
 bought with my money ! I don't want them to be 
 
 " My dear, think a little." Miss Carew stood beside 
 her, and drew the throbbing brow to her sympathetic 
 heart. " Now, you are surely in the wrong. It is their 
 place to make overtures. It would have been in the first 
 instance, you know 
 
 " That is just the reason," interrupted Dell vehemently ; 
 trying very hard not to give way to tears. 
 
 " Had you seen Millicent at all, before you were ill?
 
 330 SHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 "Yes." Dell remembered the scene only too well 
 her interview with Leonard, and Millicent's interposition ; 
 her own passionate repulse. 
 
 " Was she " Miss Carew sighed. The ground was 
 so extremely delicate for one to venture upon. 
 
 " It isn't simply her," cried Dell, with a misgiving that 
 she could not quite justify herself. " It is all of them ! 
 They do not like me. And there is no use making be- 
 lieve because I came near dying " And a long, 
 
 dry sob broke Dell's voice. 
 
 "My dear child, are you going to be harder than the 
 Saviour, who could see all things, and always knew 
 where the blame lay. And he said ' Love your 
 enemies.' He bade us pray to be forgiven as we for- 
 gave. If they have reconsidered and found they were 
 in the wrong, are you right in refusing them the 
 opportunity to make amends? My dear little Dell, 
 consider " 
 
 " I don't care about their making amends. I know I 
 must go back to Sherburne House some time, and I want 
 things to be I wish they would let me alone and not 
 pretend " Then Dell began to sob in earnest. 
 
 "You do not want them to repent? My child," and 
 Miss Carew kissed down amid the straggling furze on 
 Dell's head, "that is vindictiveness. Now you are 
 cruel ! You are much less generous than they. One 
 may be mistaken in one's belief, we are not always right 
 beyond a peradventure, and when one learns this and 
 wishes to make amends, the Saviour bids us receive him. 
 We have no choice if we desire to follow the great 
 Exemplar. For he cried in that last great agony 
 ' Father, forgive them ' when they had not even 
 repented ; when, like St. Paul, they thought ' verily they 
 were doing right.' My dear child, I cannot allow you 
 to begin your new life this way. You do not realize 
 what you are saying. You do not remember that he first
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 331 
 
 loved us, and gave himself a propitiation for our sins. 
 And he said : Do this. Follow me.' " 
 
 I am afraid I can never be good dear Miss Neale." 
 And Dell pressed the soft hands to her hot, throbbing 
 cheeks that were wet with tears. 
 
 "You were loving and kindly and obedient before, 
 without any effort. Now you must try. You have come 
 to the real things of life, the hard things, the efforts that 
 are to shape your character for womanhood, for life, for 
 that other unseen world. And it isn't all done in a day. 
 That's the beauty and the comfort of it. We stray off 
 into byways, as Pilgrim did, and some sharp knowledge 
 convinces us. Or maybe, in the darkness when the way 
 is tangled, we remember that sure, straight path where 
 the light shineth. And that is all you have to do, to go 
 back to the path you started on, and all will be well. 
 There's such a sure foundation that you can't sink 
 down, although your steps may falter a little. And as 
 you go on you will come to see the way clearer. 
 There's always a light shining out for any poor little 
 lamb astray." 
 
 Dell was silent awhile, revolving many things in her 
 mind, and a little shocked by her outburst. 
 
 " Yes," she said at length, " I think I do want them to 
 repent, and truly see that they were cold and cruel at 
 first, and hated me for what I couldn't help. For oh, I 
 didn't want to come 1 then, and Sherburne House wasn't 
 half the paradise Murray's Row seemed. Leonard might 
 have had it and welcome. And when they can't keep 
 me out or push me out it makes me yes, it does make 
 me angry, dear Miss Neale, to have them give me any- 
 thing, as if they were buying me up to make friends. 
 
 "You wanted to heap coals of fire on their heads? " 
 Miss Neale raised the face and smiled down in it witk 
 motherly tenderness. " My dear, you will have many 
 chances to do this. But it is good for evil, not evil for
 
 332 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 evil. You are too young to look at the case from their 
 standpoint, but you do not want to lay up repentance for 
 yourself when you realize there has been another side. 
 Wait patiently until you can see, as you will when you 
 grow older. There are many mysteries that keep unfold- 
 ing as we go on, and some are so plain that we wonder 
 how they ever came to be a mystery at all. It is a great 
 deal harder to be just than it is to be generous, and this 
 is why I think the Lord said ' Deal justly and love 
 mercy.' And the nearer we come to the Golden Rule, 
 the nearer we are to justice. If you had made friendly 
 overtures to any of your cousins, would you like to have 
 them repulsed? What if you felt. you were a little in the 
 wrong and proffered it as an olive branch ? " 
 
 Dell drew a long breath, but was silent. Her con- 
 science pricked her. She had been cherishing some 
 high and fine theories as to how she would demean her- 
 self in the future, holding severely aloof from her cousins 
 until they were quite convinced they had been mistaken 
 in their estimate of her. It looked less noble, seen in 
 the light of the law of love. And had she not resolved 
 to try ? 
 
 Miss Neale kissed her fondly. Then she began to busy 
 herself about household matters. Dell wiped her eyes 
 and looked out of the window, over to the dense 
 plantations of spruce and pine that were glistening in the 
 sunshine. Still, it seemed to her that she should never 
 enjoy the pretty gown. 
 
 Millicent, meanwhile, stepped into the doctor's office. 
 He had returned for a case of instruments, having a slight 
 operation to perform. " Hillo! " he cried cheerily. Then 
 he noted a slight shadow on the fair face. 
 
 " Is all right at Sherburne House ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes, I have been in to see Lyndell. Do you think 
 she is really mending? Aunt Aurelia feels that another 
 week must be the limit of her stay. She begged me to
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 333 
 
 sound you about her return, but I can only ask straight 
 
 out or keep silence. And Lyndell didn' t seem very 
 
 Millicent paused with a slight flush. 
 
 " Did you ask her? " The doctor drew his brows. 
 
 " No, I came to headquarters," smilingly. 
 
 " Miss Aurelia is worlds better off without her. She 
 needs a chance to get out of the treadmill on which she 
 has been going for the past year. And it will take Dell a 
 long while to get her nerves steadied. I'll tell_y0, Miss 
 Milly, that when I said two weeks or so I made a 
 Jesuitical reservation of two months. She isn't strong 
 enough to enjoy the fun among strangers ; she's just a 
 bundle of prickly, sensitive nerves, and so you are all 
 better apart for the present. Miss Sherburne needed the 
 change as much as the child. And my dear Miss Milly, 
 if you can put in a word now and then for the furtherance 
 of my project " 
 
 " You are sure she will recover," Milly cried, with a 
 sudden dread. " For, although Aunt Aurelia has not 
 really come to loving her, I do not think she could stand 
 the other shock. ^' 
 
 " Nonsense. She will be well and hearty again. 
 Don't prefigure anything so dismal! It will take time. 
 And as for studying when she can stand it, I'll train 
 her in Latin and anything else she's likely to forget. 
 You must all keep Aunt Aurelia so engrossed that she'll 
 hardly have time to think of her. And you must come 
 over by ones and twos and get acquainted with your 
 cousin," he ended smilingly. 
 
 " I haven't succeeded very well in that respect," she 
 rejoined hesitatingly. 
 
 " Have you tried ? " 
 
 "A little. But she seems very 
 
 knit a trifle in her efforts to find a word sufficiently 'ex- 
 pressive and yet not harsh. >( 
 
 Very much on guard ? Is that what you mean ?
 
 334 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 "That will do. And I suppose we really cannot 
 blame her. We have not proffered her so much love 
 that she can take us on trust. Oh, Doctor Carew, I 
 am afraid we all began wrong. I wasn't home at 
 first. " 
 
 " We should be in a bad fix if nothing could ever be 
 righted," and he smiled with grave sweetness. " But it 
 takes time for a great many things. Some great writer 
 said once the reason God's patience was of so grand a 
 quality was because he had all eternity to work in. And 
 though we have only this little life on this side, it isn't 
 best to hurry the work in human souls ; especially a 
 child's soul, that can be so easily marred." 
 
 Millicent put out her hand. " I shall trust you," she 
 said. " I think you have read her more truly than any 
 one else. And oh, doctor, I am so glad the real owner of 
 the money was found. You were quite sure 
 
 " Whittingham wasn't very likely to be mistaken. 
 And the money Dell found exactly answered the de- 
 scription of that Mr. Charles Mason paid to Jackson. 
 Yes, there can be no two opinions about it." 
 
 "When you see anything that I can do " Millicent 
 began wistfully. 
 
 " Persuade the household they are better off without 
 Dell," and he laughed. Then he handed her into her 
 phaeton. 
 
 He just took a moment to look in at Dell. Something 
 had ruffled her evidently. 
 
 " Hillo ! " he cried. " ' How fine we are, how proud 
 to show ' - " 
 
 Dell made a great effort. " That is a gift from from 
 my Cousin Millicent," she said in a certain measured 
 fashion that almost made the doctor smile. 
 * " It's as sweet as she is herself." He took it delicately 
 between thumb and finger. "Whittingham and Mrs. 
 Kirby are coming over to dine to-morrow, and you must
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 335 
 
 put it on to do the honors. Neale, I'm going over to 
 Craig's Creek. Two of the workmen in the factory have 
 been mashed up in fingers or toes or something. Have 
 dinner without me." Then he kissed Dell and was 
 gone. 
 
 It was so very lovely that Miss Neale took Dell out for 
 a drive after dinner while the sun was at its warmest. 
 There was a soft reddish haze over everything, the pre- 
 cursor of Indian summer. The quiet, the balmy air full 
 of fragrance, the infrequent songs that made long, al- 
 most pathetic vibrations of melody, the sombre chirp of 
 the crickets and the rustling of the leaves in the wander- 
 ing wind, soothed Dell's perturbed spirit and shaken 
 nerves, and made her so drowsy that after she came 
 home she took a good long nap on the old sofa, and had 
 a really delightful evening. 
 
 When Miss Neale went to church the next morning 
 Dell sat down to have a little communion with herself. 
 She had been rude and ungracious to Millicent. She 
 had conscientiously altered one sentence in her prayer 
 last night and this morning. She had said, " forgive us 
 our trespasses, and teach us to forgive those who tres- 
 pass against us." For it seemed terrible to pray to God 
 to mete out to you the very measure you were meting 
 out to others when your heart was filled with bitterness 
 against them. She couldn't dismiss it all at once. But 
 she felt strangely humbled, and resolved to try in greater 
 earnest than before. 
 
 There was one thing she could do put on Miss Milli- 
 cent's pretty gown. She did not want to at all. She 
 would like to pack it up and never see it again. But 
 there was some curious conscientiousness about it. 
 the doctor had not spoken of it ! She knew it would be 
 a victory over herself. There had come a mental aspi- 
 ration after the right way, the spiritual grace, the strength 
 that would guide her unwilling feet yes, they were un-
 
 336 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 willing. She wanted to be noble and gracious and good, 
 but she began to realize that it was no easy task except 
 in moments of exaltation., She thought she could love 
 God but if she could not love those she had seen 
 Yes, it was very hard. It seemed to her that none of 
 her favorite heroines had so struggled. She buried her 
 face in her hands and knelt down by the little table that 
 held a bowl of flowers and her Bible. She was not really 
 conscious of praying ; it was one of those wordless cries, 
 one of those silent beseechings. When she rose the 
 contention was ended. She brushed her scanty rings of 
 hair, took out the unwelcome pink gown and put it on ; 
 tied the ribbons with nicest care. It gave her a delicate 
 and refined look. She studied herself for moments, 
 strenuously keeping back some tears. For she felt her 
 dislike of Millicent had been not only unreasonable but 
 unjust. She had sinned in the same manner but with 
 less cause than Miss Sherburne. Let her not forget that. 
 
 She heard some voices downstairs, but her heart beat 
 so that she had no courage to take a step. There was a 
 light footfall, a soft rustle, and Miss Neale looked in. 
 
 " My darling child," she exclaimed, and clasped Dell 
 in her arms, kissing the tremulous lips. " I am glad you 
 had the courage to do this. You have taken one step 
 toward that better purpose of love and good-will. And 
 you look very pretty ; " holding her off a little and smil- 
 ing. "Millicent always displays exquisite taste." 
 
 Dell colored with contending emotion, and tears glis- 
 tened in her brown eyes. 
 
 "They are all downstairs." Miss Carew laid aside 
 her bonnet and mantle, and stretched out her hand to 
 the young girl, who clung shyly to her as they entered 
 the room. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham glanced her over with a kind of 
 pleased surprise, and introduced his sister. Mrs. Kirby 
 was a delicate, rather pretty, conventional looking
 
 AS YE FORGIVE. 337 
 
 woman, but Dell felt that unassuming glance was one 
 of inspection. Her pale cheek flushed under it, and 
 there rushed to her mind the consciousness that here 
 perhaps she had more than once been misrepresented. 
 Yet was she suffering for doing well or ill ? 
 
 "Upon my word!" exclaimed the doctor delight- 
 edly. 
 
 Just then Sheba announced the dinner, and it was 
 an extremely pleasant meal. But the greatest solace 
 to Dell was the approval shining in Miss Neale's soft 
 eyes. 
 
 "Really," began Mrs. Kirby, as they were driving: 
 home, " I don't see anything so dreadful about that 
 child ! I call her rather diffident than forward. Her 
 manners are pretty, too ; and she seems quite well 
 informed. Very few children would remember as much 
 as she did about Baltimore. I found her very enter- 
 taining. I couldn't make the daring and defiant being 
 out of the pale little thing, and I do not see how she had 
 the courage to take that awful journey ! Of course, it 
 was a great pity tha.t Edward should marry in that fash- 
 ion, but it does seem now as if the Sherburnes ought to 
 make the best of it, and of her."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 
 
 IT often seemed to Lyndell Sherburne, as the years 
 went on, that her real life dated from this period. But 
 if the ground had not been prepared, the seed might 
 have fallen useless, or sprung up and withered. So 
 many processes go on unnoticed until the one vital touch 
 fructifies, culminates. 
 
 Dell went out nearly every day with the doctor. A 
 friend of her mother's and of her own early girlhood 
 had come to pay Miss Neale a visit, a rather delicate but 
 charming old lady, past seventy, and Miss Neale was 
 much occupied with driving her out for numerous calls, 
 and entertaining guests who came to meet her. It was not 
 a bad thing for Dell that she should be seen occasionally. 
 Miss Sherburne would have been quite horrified. She 
 had so exaggerated Dell's personal and mental defects 
 that she would not have considered her presentable in 
 any case. 
 
 So she shared the doctor's comfortable old buggy 
 and soon learned to manage Betty, if his absence was 
 prolonged, and drive her with no little skill. The 
 doctor's practice spread over a large area. A younger 
 practitioner had come into Ardmore, and proved a 
 great relief to the elder, who liked now to take matters 
 leisurely. 
 
 Ardmore was an old town with an extremely rural 
 aspect. Gardens that were almost farms, little settle- 
 ments of poor whites that were not much improvement 
 on the negro quarters. Some northern capital had come 
 
 338
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 339 
 
 in since the war, and started a few industries ; a few 
 adventurous people charmed by the climate, the com- 
 parative cheapness of land, the ease with which crops 
 could be raised, had cast in their lots and their money, 
 and finding themselves fixtures were doing their best to 
 infuse a little energy and thrift among the natives. 
 
 This had brought about a line of demarcation. The 
 southern part, stretching out to the old estates and proud 
 inheritances devastated by the war, kept to itself. The 
 other might have the railroads and the factories, the 
 shops and stores. Still it was pretty and picturesque, 
 but so different from anything Dell had ever seen that 
 she was delighted to go meandering through its limits. 
 
 Then there were the boundless wilds that surprised 
 her. Miles and miles of forests, here and there a great 
 residence not unlike Sherburne House, with its wide 
 approaches lined with massive trees, its neglected plan- 
 tations, its clustering "quarters"; single cabins of 
 rough logs hidden away in some dell, tiny creeks wind- 
 ing in and out, threading their way to some tranquil 
 river and from thence to the beautiful bay she had never 
 seen. Wonderful coloring from the great brown trees 
 that stood alone in a glory of copper-bronze to the 
 groups and masses whose blue or purple green defied 
 the wintry blast. 
 
 She learned to know the names and distinguishing 
 marks of these denizens of the forest. They found late 
 wild flowers, luscious grapes that ripened unseen, nooks 
 and crannies of such beauty that Lyndell sat speechless 
 or just raised her absorbed eyes to the doctor. Squirrels 
 ran about unheeded, a trail of wild turkeys crossed some 
 small open, staring at them with frightened eyes. Flocks 
 of birds on their pilgrimages, with their curious calls of 
 alarm or impelling cries, and occasionally such a burst 
 of melody that the child sat spellbound. 
 
 How beautiful the world was ! What a bliss it was to
 
 340 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 live ! Every pulse within her thrilled to an ecstasy. 
 Strange new thoughts crowded her brain, hopes for 
 which there were no words, whose stories could not 
 be told until the hour of unfolding. She did not 
 know herself any more. She was so different from all 
 the past. Her limited knowledge was as yet unaware 
 that this was the growing out of childhood, and the 
 entering in at the marvelous doorway of girlhood 
 through whose paths she was to be led up to those 
 higher realms, a sweet and noble womanhood. 
 
 Twice that week the girls from Sherburne House 
 came over, once accompanied by Mrs. Fanshawe, but 
 both times they missed Lyndell. Doctor Carew kept 
 delaying his duty call, but early the following week he 
 felt it could be put off no longer, as the first limit of 
 Lyndell's stay had already passed. 
 
 There was an air of confusion pervading the outer 
 aspect of the house. Trunks and boxes were piled on 
 the porch. Servants were running to and fro. Before 
 the doctor had alighted he learned the Stanwoods had 
 arrived. 
 
 Miss Sherburne entered the sitting-room quite flurried. 
 Her eyes were soft with emotion, her cheeks pink, her 
 lips still carried the smile of welcome that had been too 
 hearty to fade away in an instant. 
 
 "Upon my word!" cried the doctor in surprise. 
 " Have you been adorning yourself with the bloom of 
 youth for an old fellow like me ? " 
 
 " What nonsense ! " but she laughed a little. " Julia 
 and the major have just come, and the house is running 
 over with children, and everything in confusion. Really, 
 I have hardly had time to breathe the past week." 
 
 " Well, you grow young and good-looking upon it. 
 You were too much alone all summer. And you were 
 too strenuous about everything. I told you that before. 
 You see it has been a long strain and bodies wear, as
 
 A BED LETTER DAY. 341 
 
 well as nerves. It must seem quite like old times." and 
 the doctor smiled cordially. 
 
 "Yes." Then a touch of hesitation was manifest. 
 The softness of her face seemed fading out. 
 
 " I expected to come over" she paused and drew 
 her brows slightly. " But we had the telegram last 
 evening ; Julia was anxious to come right through the 
 baby was teething and not well. I have been so busy 
 
 Lyndell " 
 
 " You will do better without her. and she is better off 
 where she is," with a certain decision. " I came to pro- 
 pose an extension of her stay. I'm not ready to pro- 
 nounce her cured to discharge her." 
 
 " But we cannot think of trespassing upon your kind- 
 ness. And Miss Carew has visitors " 
 
 " One visitor. The house is by no means circum- 
 scribed," with a humorous laugh. "And it seems to 
 me that you have quite enough on your hands without 
 worrying over a convalescing girl. She's doing very 
 well. She wants a good deal of outdoor living. Whit- 
 tingham has a friend's pony, gentle as a lamb, that he 
 means to send over for her. And Mrs. Kirby has 
 petitioned for some visits. Neale gives her a music 
 practice every day. And I want her under my eye for 
 some time to come. She'll only be a care and a worry 
 here, plumped down among these young folks. And 
 she'll have time enough for study. Ask Mrs. Beau- 
 manoir or Mrs. Lepage, and if they have your health 
 and peace of mind at heart they will say the same thing." 
 Already Miss Sherburne had been rather overruled in 
 the friendly, suggestive way so hard to oppose. Even 
 Millicent had added her mite to the general fund of pre- 
 clusion. 
 
 "What will you do with her, auntie." she had said 
 with a kind of pitiful interest. " She looks like a ghost, 
 and she isn't well enough to interest herself in study or
 
 342 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 amusement. She is so much better off under Miss 
 Neale's wing ; and you feel more at liberty. With the 
 whole family here you oughtn't to have the added care. 
 I should let the doctor keep her if he would. It's next 
 to being a Sanitarium." 
 
 " You forget that this is her home." 
 
 "Wait until I get nearer settled, Aunt Aurelia," said 
 Mrs. Lepage. " We shall go up to Washington in 
 December, though I may like to leave the girls here un- 
 til we get the house in order. A half-sick child is a 
 great nuisance at the best. And there will be so much 
 on hand. Besides, we shall all feel more free without 
 her. She will have time enough to rule over Sherburne 
 House. I shouldn't hurry." 
 
 Miss Sherburne had secretly hoped there would be 
 some objection at the Carews, since she had been plainly 
 coerced at home. Now she flushed with a spasm of 
 vexation. 
 
 " If you think I am unwilling to do my whole duty, 
 Doctor Carew " 
 
 "No I do not think it," the doctor replied with a 
 grave deference. " You have done it cheerfully for years. 
 But you must care a little for yourself. You cannot be 
 as prodigal of your health as if you were but twenty. 
 Take this pleasant reunion with the dear ones who have 
 been like children to you and let nothing interfere. You 
 will never regret it. And Lyndell will do well enough." 
 
 " I can't decide now." She made a deprecating ges- 
 ture with her hand. 
 
 He rose. " It will all come around right," he said 
 cheerfully. "I will announce to Dell that she is my 
 prisoner for a good month yet." 
 
 A few days later Miss Carew came over to pay her 
 respects to the new arrivals. Miss Sherburne apologized 
 rather weakly. 
 
 "She can hardly be considered as out of the doctor's
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 343 
 
 hands," replied Miss Neale. Her nerves are not very 
 steady as yet, and the freedom from excitement is best. 
 When she begins to look really well she will not be so 
 sensitive." 
 
 And so Dell's battle was fought without a word from 
 her. She was more than delighted. She had a nervous 
 shrinking from all these Sherburne relatives in their 
 exuberant health and family pride. She wanted to get 
 well acquainted with her new self, to test the strength of 
 her new aims and resolves. She shrank from the bizzare 
 notoriety she had so ignorantly achieved. A finer ideal 
 was being evolved in her child's brain, a truer estimate 
 in her soul. 
 
 The hours with the doctor were far from being unpro- 
 ductive. He found her not only intelligent, but ambi- 
 tious. Densie Murray would have been delighted with 
 this turn of advancement. He saw how hard it had 
 been for the poor child to be suddenly clipped and re- 
 strained in her ardors and enthusiasms. And though his 
 instructions had none of the formality of the schools, it 
 enlarged her mental vision while it served to create a 
 thirst for general knowledge. 
 
 Lyndell grew stronger physically, joyous and eager; 
 but her quick sense, a sort of latent development, or a 
 disused birthright, led her to watch and note usages dif- 
 ferent from those into which circumstances had plunged 
 her. She understood there might be diversities without 
 real faults, that what "was proper enough in one sphere 
 of life might be out of place in another, that refinement 
 was not always affectation, and that truth might 
 sometimes defeat itself by rudeness, or even brusquerie. 
 The gracious harmony of Miss Neale affected her like a 
 strain of music. 
 
 She came downstairs one morning, after having 
 secluded herself for half an hour, with a note in her 
 hand.
 
 344 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 " Dear Miss Neale," she began with tender entreaty, 
 " will you read this and tell me if it would be unwise to 
 send it to my Cousin Millicent. I was rude and un- 
 grateful to her that day she brought me the gown. And 
 I had to fight with myself when I put it on. I didn't 
 want to take anything like a gift from any of them. 
 But I have been thinking and trying a little oh, my 
 dear Heart's Delight," and she knelt on Miss Neale's 
 footstool, laying her arms across the elder's lap, " I can't 
 bear to feel that I am in the wrong. I wanted to believe, 
 as I did at first, that the fault was all theirs. But I have 
 seen so many things that I might have done differently, 
 and that I have wished undone. The bitterness and 
 shame is that you can't undo all of them," and her 
 face was drowned in scarlet. " But this I could do. 
 Miss Millicent never was unkind to me. The very first 
 proffer I repulsed." 
 
 Miss Neale glanced over the note slipped softly into 
 her hand. It was a frankly worded apology, if it lacked 
 some of the grace of society training. And she said for 
 which Miss Neale in her heart gave her infinite credit 
 " I wore it the next day, Sunday. Everybody thought I 
 had improved in looks, but I am sure it was the added 
 prettiness of your taste and kindness. I should like to 
 thank you in person." 
 
 Miss Neale bent over and kissed her. " I am very 
 glad you wished to do this, I think it simply right. You 
 can send it by one of the boys if you prefer." 
 
 " I think I would rather mail it." 
 
 "Very well ; it shall go over to the office." 
 
 " Do you suppose Miss Millicent has staid away be- 
 cause " and Dell flushed again. 
 
 "They have all been very much engaged. My dear, 
 do not say Miss Millicent. Call her ' cousin ' until you 
 feel more familiar." 
 
 "And do you suppose I will have to say ' aunt' it
 
 A BED LETTER DAY. 345 
 
 seems so so strange to think of them as real relatives ! 
 But I always said -Aunt Maggie' to Mamma Murray's 
 sister ; " and she gave a sort of nervous, embarrassed 
 laugh. 
 
 " Did you never say ' aunt ' to Mrs. Beaumanoir? " 
 
 " I never called her anything when I had to speak 
 directly to her. I always said' your mother ' to the 
 children," replied Dell hesitatingly. 
 
 " And Miss Sherburne ? " 
 
 Dell colored violently. " I had a feeling that she 
 would not like me to call her 'aunt.' And I did not 
 want to," added the child with a touch of the old de- 
 fiance. 
 
 Miss Carew gave a soft little sigh. ' She could well 
 understand the disappointment of her lifelong friend, 
 but this persistent bitterness was wholly foreign to her 
 nature. 
 
 " My dear," she said gravely, looking into the flash- 
 ing brown eyes, "you will find, in the course of time, 
 that relationship counts for a good deal with most of the 
 old county families. It is better for you that you should 
 pay your relatives the respect due them until you learn 
 to love them. Millicent has always been a great favor- 
 ite of mine, and I consider her an especially lovely girl. 
 We shall have to admit that there have been many un- 
 fortunate incidents in your homecoming, and some of 
 them you must strive to overlive. You cannot afford to 
 place yourself in a wrong light and justify disapproba- 
 tion. And I think as you grow older you will not care 
 to do it. Miss Sherburne's disappointment, all the way 
 through, has been very hard to bear. But you have not 
 been to blame for that." 
 
 Dell's heart swelled and her eyes filled with tears. 
 " I don't believe," she said with resolute dignity, "that 
 my own mamma was to blame either. And she loved 
 papa so very, very dearly. I can remember that, and
 
 346 SHERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 how she used to sit and cry over the picture. And she 
 was very beautiful. Why, there was a portrait of her ! " 
 Dell started up suddenly, with imperious demand written 
 in every line of her countenance. 
 
 " There is a sealed package that you are to have when 
 you are fifteen. It is in Mr. Whittingham's hands. 
 Then you may know more of the story. Can you not be 
 brave and patient ? It will not be very long to wait now. 
 You must study in all things to bring no discredit on 
 your mother's memory, my child. I think it would be 
 her wish that you should make friends with your father's 
 people." 
 
 "But when they don't want me! " Dozens of little 
 recollections stabbed Lyndell, and the hot blood rushed 
 to her face. 
 
 "There is one who does Millicent. And through 
 her, supplemented by your own endeavor, I think you 
 can win others. Promise me to try." 
 
 Dell swallowed over a big lump in her throat. The 
 soft, entreating eyes disarmed the resolute unwillingness. 
 She clasped her arms about Miss Neale's neck and 
 kissed the fond lips. 
 
 " For your sake," she said with a falter that showed 
 how hard the concession really was. She stood still be- 
 side her a full minute, drawing quivering breaths. 
 "Oh," she cried, "my dear darling Miss Neale, I've 
 been trying to get so nearly right in my heart that I 
 could say the Lord's Prayer honestly and truly. I 
 wouldn't mind forgiving them all, and keeping them 
 quite outside, but it isn't the way /want to be forgiven. 
 I shouldn't like Cousin Millicent to do so to me. Oh, 
 how can I ? ' As we forgive those who trespass against 
 us.' It is such a solemn thing." 
 
 "Yes, my dear. And we try our whole lives long. 
 But God sees the effort, and when it is made in all sin- 
 cerity, even if we fail of the highest mark, he remem-
 
 A EED LETTER DAY. 347 
 
 bers, and is merciful. No, we would not like him to 
 mete out to us the measure we give to one another. 
 Darius is going in town ; " the old servitor had come to 
 the window to signify that he was ready to start on his 
 errand for Miss Neale. So she added : " Give him your 
 letter." 
 
 Dell slipped it into the envelope and sealed it. After 
 standing silently by the window awhile, she sat down to 
 the piano and began to go over an exercise. She won- 
 dered in her secret heart if Miss Neale ever had to try 
 very hard for anything ! Were not some people natur- 
 ally good and sweet like Mamma Murray ? Ah, she 
 didn't try much there. It was when trials accumulated 
 that grace and strength were needed, as she began 
 vaguely to realize. 
 
 The Stanwoods brought a fresh and stirring atmosphere 
 into Sherburne House. They had been out on the fron- 
 tier for the past three years. Mrs. Stanwood was much 
 less conventional than Mrs. Lepage. Neither had she 
 experienced the extreme chagrin at her brother's mar- 
 riage that had so stung Mrs. Beaumanoir. Her own, at 
 that time, was too new and too full of interest. The 
 three sisters had not met since their father's funeral, 
 though Mrs. Stanwood had been kept informed of the 
 search for Edward's child and its results. 
 
 In the interval of other confidences, she listened to a 
 somewhat softened account of recent events. Miss Sher- 
 burne had unconsciously modified her opinions concern- 
 ing the Murrays, though she was still secretly mortified 
 that they would receive no compensation for their care 
 of Lyndell. 
 
 " It's quite a romance all the way through," declared 
 Mrs. Stanwood, with eager interest. "I do suppose the 
 child outraged your sense of propriety, Aunt 'Relic," 
 and she laughed with a dimpling face. "We should 
 rather admire that sort of pluck out on the verge of cm-
 
 348 SHEBBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 lization. I can't help thinking you made a great mistake 
 in so abruptly breaking off associations with the Murrays. 
 A child who would give them up at once, would be a 
 mean, ungrateful little prig ! I, for one, would be 
 ashamed of her. I am all curiosity to see her, and truly 
 sorry she doesn't inherit the Sherburne good looks. 
 Deny it as we may, comparative prettiness is a good 
 thing in woman when you can't have genuine beauty." 
 
 What with babies and unpacking and calls of friends, 
 Mrs. Stanwood had not even found time for a drive. 
 She had an idle hour Saturday morning as Millicent 
 came winding up the avenue in her phaeton, and she 
 ran down. 
 
 " Don't you want to give me the spare seat, Milly," 
 she cried. "I'm dying for a bit out of doors." 
 
 "I am going over to Ardmore," the young girl said 
 slowly. She had received Dell's note an hour ago, and 
 was touched by its frank admission, but she did prefer 
 going alone. "Aunt Aurelia wished to send a mes- 
 sage " 
 
 "Ardmore! The very place!" cried Aunt Julia 
 eagerly. " I want to see that fearful and wonderful 
 child. I must confess that /admire her. She ought to 
 have one friend in the family." 
 
 " I can answer for one," and Millicent smiled sig- 
 nificantly. " Yes, I shall be delighted to take you." 
 
 Aunt Aurelia came with her errand. Mrs. Stanwood 
 was ready in a trice, and they drove away. 
 
 "I've a curious sympathy for the stranger within the 
 Sherburne gates," she began. " I can imagine her con- 
 sternation at finding herself alone in that great house 
 with Aunt 'Relie, when she had been one of a houseful 
 of children, running wild and having no end of good 
 times. It was like shutting up a squirrel in a cage. 
 Aunt 'Relie belongs to the old school, very nice and 
 decorous and all that, but it has had its day. I can't
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 349 
 
 understand why she wanted to keep her so rigorously 
 under her own eye. Was she so very outre f" 
 
 " I only saw her once in the summer. Len had been 
 tormenting her and she flew in a passion. None of us 
 considered how horribly homesick she must be, since we 
 were always at home in Sherburne House. Violet thought 
 her coarse looking, but she is thin and delicate enough 
 now. Her skin is almost transparent, and her eyes are 
 beautiful. Her hair all came out I'm afraid that it is 
 going to be red," confessed Millicent deprecatingly. 
 
 " Well, red hair is all the rage. Blue eyes, of 
 course." 
 
 " No. The loveliest brown you can imagine, like the 
 pile of velvet, and raying off sparks when she is pro- 
 voked. Oh, Aunt Julia, it seems as if we ought to make 
 the poor little thing feel at home among us when we 
 have all had so much love." 
 
 "My dear girl ! Of course we must. If father had 
 not clung so obstinately to that crotchety English idea 
 that an entail must go only in the male line ! There are 
 no real entails in this country, only wills. Of course we 
 should all enjoy Leonard being master of Sherburne 
 House. Well who knows?" 
 
 She uttered a significant little laugh. Millicent colored 
 vividly. 
 
 The air was soft and delightful. Ardmore quite gave 
 one a shock in improvements, Mrs. Stanwood declared. 
 They turned in the direction of the Carews. As they 
 neared the gate they met the doctor. Lyndell leaned 
 out and her eyes encountered those of Millicent. A glad 
 smile lighted up her face. 
 
 The doctor sprang down and greeted his guests. 
 Millicent came around to Lyndell's side, and caught the 
 child's hand. 
 
 " I had your note this morning," she whispered, her 
 face against Dell's cheek. " It was very sweet in you to
 
 350 SEERBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 write it brave, too ; and we ought to be the best of 
 friends. Can't you trust me to learn to love you ? Can't 
 you love me a little, and in time all will go right. I have 
 brought a new aunt, who is sure to like you," and she 
 kissed Lyndell's quivering lips. 
 
 The doctor came and lifted her out. Miss Neale had 
 bundled her up like a mummy, the air being a trifle 
 sharp when they started. A round, rosy face, soft as a 
 peach, was bent down to hers with a cordial kiss, and 
 an arm encircled her with a touch of sympathy as they 
 walked up the path. 
 
 "We really ought not to stay," said Millicent, as Miss 
 Neale was hospitably urging them to lay aside their 
 wraps. 
 
 " Nonsense ! We can have a good talk over the din- 
 ner. I'm hungry as a bear," declared the doctor, " and 
 you don't want to see me unamiable," he added laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 Dell shyly begged Millicent to come upstairs with 
 her. 
 
 "Oh," she cried, turning her lustrous eyes up to the 
 young girl's face, "are you quite sure you forgive my 
 rudeness not only about the pretty gift, but all the times 
 we have met? " 
 
 "My little cousin, I am afraid you have a much larger 
 score to forgive. We have all been unfriendly. We have 
 not made you welcome to Sherburne House, your papa's 
 house and your own. But if you will let us begin 
 anew ! I am the eldest girl and ought to set the best ex- 
 ample. Will you let me be your friend ? And if you 
 could come to me with whatever troubles you oh, don't 
 cry, my dear for I know we can find some way to be 
 happy. I want you to look your best for Aunt Julia. 
 May I brush your soft, pretty hair ? It is the color of a 
 newly ripe chestnut." 
 
 "I'm afraid it is going to be red." Dell laughed
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 351 
 
 nervously through her tears. "Mamma's was such a 
 lovely golden. Mine was good enough until it began to 
 turn and grew streaky. May I would you like me to 
 put on my pink gown? Miss Neale said the brown 
 velvet just matched my eyes." 
 
 Millicent comforted her and helped to make her as 
 pretty as possible. 
 
 " You are not quite so thin," she said with an en- 
 couraging smile. Your cheeks are filling out, and you 
 have a cleft chin. Aunt Julia has a great dimple in hers. 
 And your ears are like shells." 
 
 Dell colored with a pleasurable emotion. She went 
 downstairs with a curiously light heart, feeling somehow 
 that Millicent understood the tumultuous, unspoken 
 thoughts. The humiliating self-consciousness was gone, 
 and when Aunt Julia looked up with a smile and made a 
 pretty gesture that was an invitation for Dell to come 
 and sit beside her, the child crossed the room with a joy- 
 ous step. 
 
 She was relating a bit of Western experience to the 
 doctor, but she placed her arm caressingly about Dell, 
 who felt drawn to her at once. There was just the faint- 
 est suggestion of Mamma Murray. All the world seemed 
 glad and bright, and the child took a long flight on the 
 wings of hope to a sunny clime where there were un- 
 clouded skies. Her face was almost transfigured. 
 
 " And a little loving appreciation might have done it 
 before," Millicent sighed remorsefully. Was this part of 
 the daily work in God's world? "to make their faces 
 shine with joy and gladness." 
 
 Lyndell was really at her best estate. She felt so at 
 home with Miss Neale and the doctor ; there was a rush 
 and overflow of delight tliat the tall, sweet girl with the 
 Madonna face cared enough for her to be her friend, 
 and that this gay, bright, smiling, and beguiling Aunt 
 Julia had found something in her to approve. She
 
 352 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 scarcely uttered a word, but she was very happy, and 
 perhaps there is no inspiration like it. 
 
 They talked of the changes the war had made, the 
 seething and settling down, the new ideas, laughed over 
 some of the youthful pranks and pleasures. Evidently 
 Mrs. Stanwood had been a great favorite with the doc- 
 tor and Miss Neale. 
 
 Aunt Julia watched Dell furtively out of one eye, an 
 art gained by shrewd experience. Her manners had a 
 natural grace training would have betrayed its newness. 
 Her voice was soft : there was no aggressiveness of de- 
 meanor. She was not unlike hundreds of tolerably 
 well-bred children. Had Aunt Aurelia been looking 
 at her all this time through a distorted vision ; had 
 her injustice brought about the very qualities she had 
 predicated ? 
 
 They had to go presently, though Mrs. Stanwood de- 
 clared she was longing to come and spend the day, if 
 Miss Neale wouldn't mind two babies and a nurse. 
 
 " And I do hope you mean to allow Dell to come over 
 to us for a visit, if you can't discharge her as cured?" 
 she said gayly to the doctor. 
 
 " When she's a little steadier, a little stouter, and able 
 to give me some credit, we may take you in on our 
 rounds some day." 
 
 " For it almost looks as if we had come in and taken 
 possession and pushed the poor little princess out." She 
 put her arm familiarly over Dell's shoulder. "It's a 
 long while since we have all been together. And you 
 belong to the clan Sherburne, my dear, and are one of 
 us. We will make good our claim to you, never fear. I 
 can't tempt you with very fascinating companionship, 
 for I have only a big boy at school and two babies ' 
 she paused a little, and a mysterious tenderness suffused 
 her face, thinking of the little girl who " was not," who 
 would have been about Dell's age. " But I'm a host in
 
 A BED LETTER DAY. 353 
 
 myself, and I know you cannot help liking your uncle, 
 the major, who will be down presently." 
 
 Dell gave the plump arm a squeeze and was fright- 
 ened. But it only elicited a long, fond kiss. 
 
 | I'm coming over some day for a visit," Millicent 
 whispered in her ear. 
 
 Then the doctor put them in the phaeton. He had to 
 take a long journey, and perhaps would not be home 
 until late. He came and pinched Dell's ear and looked 
 into her shining eyes, then kissed her without a word 
 and was off, at the call of the dying, where he could 
 only administer tender human consolation, and smooth 
 the path for a weary soul. 
 
 Dell meant to have a nice long talk with Miss Neale, 
 but she had only said: "Oh, isn't she delightful!" 
 when Miss Neale had to go out to the doctor's office. 
 Another call afterward, " Maum Juno's little gran'darter 
 had done gone tumbled in a tub of bilen water an' was 
 nigh onto scalt to def." 
 
 "You won't mind staying alone?" Miss Neale said 
 with that inexpressible sound in her voice that, like a 
 perfume, lingered after she had spoken. 
 " Oh no," Dell replied. 
 
 Miss Neale picked up rolls of old linen, washes, and 
 salves, and started on her errand of mercy. 
 
 Dell took her favorite seat by the window. No, she 
 did not mind being alone with such lovely subjects to 
 think about. "Aunt Jue." Would she ever dare call 
 her that ? Cousin Millicent ! Suddenly the whole State 
 of Virginia was bounded by rivers of hope and smiling 
 hills of tender effort, a great beautiful bay and inlets full 
 of delight and joy and sunshine. And the capital 
 seemed to be Sherburne House. All the people far and 
 near could come there was room for a multitude. She 
 did not want to shut any one out now. If there was 
 some pretty corner for her and Miss Millicent, no, Cousin
 
 354 SHEBBUBNE HOUSE. 
 
 Millicent, and Aunt Jue, with her face full of smiles and 
 dimples. 
 
 She must have fallen asleep, for when she opened her 
 eyes Miss Neale was smiling, and Mr. Whittingham 
 stood at the gate, his own handsome horse proudly arch- 
 ing his neck, and another,- not so large, but sleek and 
 shining, and with great eyes that almost laughed. A 
 negro lad had hold of the bridle. 
 
 ' I think the call is especially for you," said Miss Neale. 
 
 Dell sprang up. " Oh," she cried in a tremor, "was 
 he in real, solemn earnest? And is that the pony ? How 
 beautiful! " 
 
 Mr. Whittingham entered and shook hands with them 
 both. 
 
 "Why, you look like a new girl," he said in a quaint 
 sort of surprise. " Has the doctor compounded some 
 wonderful tonic ? I'm sorry he is away. But the pony 
 has come to stay a week, and then, if you agree, he may 
 go on and on " 
 
 " But I don't know how to ride." Dell raised her 
 eyes in a kind of laughing dismay. " I went to a circus 
 once and had a ride on an elephant. It took such mon- 
 strous steps that you felt as if you were going down in 
 the depths of the ocean. And the donkeys at Central 
 Park " 
 
 " If Miss Neale didn't mind I might give you a les- 
 son." The soft, pink cheeks, the lustrous eyes and the 
 restless, curving lips made her strangely pretty, Mr. 
 Whittingham thought. Her unexpected pleasure gave 
 him a quiet joy. He had thought a great deal about 
 her in the last fortnight. He was her guardian, and it 
 was in his power to make her poor little life brighter, to 
 give her the privileges and the rights befitting the heiress 
 of Sherburne House. 
 
 Miss Neale smiled and looked from one to the other. 
 
 " You won't be afraid ? "
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 355 
 
 "Why, no," Dell answered with a very little touch 
 of hesitation. Three months ago she would have gone 
 wild over such a prospect. 
 
 "Well, if Miss Neale will get you ready. The wind 
 has fallen, and it is very pleasant out here in the sunny 
 avenue." 
 
 Miss Neale found one of her own skirts and a jacket 
 she had been making for one of her poor. It fitted Dell 
 very nicely. She put on the pretty scarlet cap she found 
 so comfortable in the carriage. 
 
 "Take a lump of sugar out to her. I find a great 
 many friendships have their corner stone laid in sweet- 
 ness. Here, Bonny." 
 
 Bonny rubbed her nose in Mr. Whittingham's hand. 
 Dell held up the lump of sugar ; but hesitated the least 
 bit. Bonny looked so wistful, so entreating. Dell 
 stroked her nose, her mane, and in an instant she loved 
 her. 
 
 Mr. Whittingham mounted her and settled her foot in 
 the stirrup. Handing her the rein he led the pony, who 
 went gently along as if careful of her precious load. 
 Dell's nervousness subsided in a few moments. An ex- 
 hilaration came to her, a dash of her old courage and 
 vigor. She felt as if she had wings ; she smiled back at 
 Miss Neale : a bright, happy girl. It seemed to her that 
 she had never been quite so happy since that fateful 
 Saturday in Murray's Row. 
 
 Bonny paced very gently up and down. Then Mr. 
 Whittingham let her go alone. 
 
 "You will do pretty well, I think. We must not tire 
 you out with the first lesson. Hasn't it been long enough, 
 Miss Neale ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered. 
 
 The grave, kindly man lifted her down, repaid by her 
 sunny smile. What was there about her or was it his 
 sympathy that had been so thoroughly awakened.
 
 356 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 Darius took Bonny to her new quarters. Mr. Whit- 
 tingham entered the house with Dell's soft hand slipped 
 in his. 
 
 "You are so good to me," she said tremulously. 
 " And I have made you so much trouble from the very 
 beginning. I am so sorry. And I am going to try in 
 solemn earnest to do what is right, to be obedient 
 and she swallowed over a great lump. 
 
 " My little girl" one would hardly think Mr. Whit- 
 tingham's voice could be so tender " My little girl, 
 matters have been made much harder for you than was 
 at all necessary. And I mean that they shall be better. 
 I want you to feel that I have your interests and your 
 pleasures at heart, and never hesitate to apply to me for 
 anything you want." 
 
 "Oh," she cried remorsefully, "I asked you for that 
 money, and then I " her voice broke. 
 
 " My dear, let bygones be bygones. I ought to have 
 taken you to New York myself. It was cruelly unjust to 
 ask you to forget friends who had been so good to you. 
 I see a great many things that must have been bitter for 
 you to endure. When you go back to Sherburne House 
 there will be a great difference. And I have some 
 wonderful news about the Murrays. You may show it to 
 the doctor to any one." 
 
 He fumbled in his pocket and drew forth a newspaper. 
 There was a curious triumph in his eyes, in his very tone, 
 as he said, pointing out a paragraph : 
 
 " Perhaps you may not quite understand it. Murray's 
 Row has been sold for a very large sum, and some 
 splendid houses are to be erected on the site. It has 
 made Mr. Murray a rich man, independent of his busi- 
 ness. And I am sure he is worthy of the best of good 
 fortune. I honor and esteem him, and you must never 
 forget their goodness. He would not take a penny for 
 his four years' care of you."
 
 A RED LETTER DAY. 357 
 
 "As if I could ever stop loving them! " Dell wiped 
 away the fast-flowing tears. " I shall wait until I am 
 grown for now I have resolved that I won't trouble 
 Miss Sherburne, nor do anything mean or underhand. 
 I promised papa Murray," and her voice had a little 
 ring of pride. " And Mr. Whittingham did you give 
 Tessy that money I asked you to?" she inquired eagerly. 
 
 " I couldn't, my dear child. You were under age, and 
 I could not legally bestow such a gift. Then, too, Mr. 
 Murray would not take it. You must make all the 
 returns in the years to come, and I sincerely hope you 
 will. It is a sacred duty : a point of honor. Respect 
 Miss Sherburne' s feelings on the subject. Some time she 
 may come to view it in a more correct light. And now 
 if you want anything, you will not hesitate to ask me? 
 If it is wrong, I shall tell you so frankly." 
 
 He held both hands and looked steadily into her 
 eyes. Then he bent down and kissed her gravely on 
 the forehead. 
 
 He resisted Miss Neale's persuasions to remain to sup- 
 per, but promised to come over some evening soon. 
 
 The two had a quiet supper together. Then they 
 returned to the home-room and Miss Neale drew her 
 chair up to the cheerful blaze, for the evening was some- 
 what chilly. DeH sat on an ottoman and laid her head 
 on Miss Carew's knee, tenderly caressing the soft hands. 
 They talked about Mr. Murray's good fortune, which the 
 elder understood in its wider significance. And Dell told 
 the story of her life with them, which was like a pastoral 
 in its simplicity. But Miss Neale laughed softly over that 
 fateful afternoon, and realized the shock. 
 
 "I suppose I did look like a guy," said Dell ruefully. 
 We never played in our best clothes. I shouldn't want 
 to dance for the children in Murray's Row, now ; but oh, 
 it was delightful then, until she looked out of the carriage 
 at me." Even now Dell shuddered. " Oh, Miss Neale,
 
 358 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 dear Heart's Delight do you think I shall ever come to 
 love Miss Sherburne ? " 
 
 " You can try to obey her and pay her the respect due 
 her position," returned the persuasive voice. 
 
 " But the doctor said the unkind and the unthankful. 
 And there is the prayer ! I must be very wicked I be- 
 lieve I do not really care about her loving me. The others 
 may have her " 
 
 " You will come to see matters in their true light when 
 you are older. A child's soul cannot take in everything. 
 Experience will be one of your best teachers, and love 
 grows. When the soul is full of it, the unkind and the 
 unthankful may have a little share ; it overflows, and yet 
 there is always plenty. Remember this, that love begets 
 love, just as dislike begets dislike." 
 
 Then they talked of Millicent and Mrs. Stanwood. 
 Dell had shown an unusual delicacy for a child who felt 
 her wrongs so keenly, in not expatiating on the domestic 
 affairs at Sherburne House. It was very rarely that she 
 inveighed with bitterness against its mistress, and Miss 
 Neale felt like blaming her friend for not endeavoring to 
 win the child's regard when a little kindness would have 
 done it. 
 
 The clock struck ten. 
 
 " My dear child," she cried in alarm, " the doctor will 
 think me crazy for allowing you to stay up so late. You 
 must go to bed this moment." 
 
 " I hoped he would come." There was a touch of dis- 
 appointment in Dell's tone. 
 
 " I will not tell him a word of your joyful news. You 
 shall have that pleasure." 
 
 Dell rose and stood there thoughtfully, her eyes caught 
 by the waning firelight. The soft glow shadowed and 
 shaded, brought out her best points, prefigured the 
 change and advancement both of the child's soul and 
 body. The lustrous eyes looked steadily, bravely into the
 
 A EED LETTER DAY. 359 
 
 future with a clear and solemn shining, the broad brow, 
 and conformation of the temples indicated strength and 
 earnestness and a certain nobility, if not too deeply 
 crushed and weighted with trivial bonds. 
 
 The mouth was wide, but something in the tremulous, 
 anticipating joy of to-night gave it a sweetness, and cer- 
 tain tender curves. Would she learn how to use them 
 so that they might express her truth and tenderness, 
 rather than a proud, obstinate indifference? Would she 
 learn to be lovely in feature and expression from some in- 
 ward light of the soul, to reach that highest standard, 
 which, in this swift gleam seemed possible ! " I am so 
 happy," she said in her straightforward, child-fashion, 
 " that I feel as if I could be good." 
 
 She lay in her little bed, whether awake or asleep she 
 could never clearly tell, and lived over plans for the fu- 
 ture, saw herself as in a vision. She would be the 
 gracious and kindly mistress of Sherburne House, in the 
 long years to come. She would make it a beautiful 
 place, where every one would be sure of a welcome, 
 where little children would be eager to come and frolic 
 in the wide paths and soft, fragrant grass. The cousins 
 somehow by that time she would have won their love 
 and those who were lonely, in any want or distress, or ill 
 and suffering, as Mamma Murray and Miss Neale had 
 done to her, so she must do to others, make them happy ; 
 it was such a glorious thing to be happy. And some- 
 how, because Miss Neale was single, so lovely and be- 
 loved, and, because she and Con had said such dreadful 
 things about Miss Sherburne being an " old maid," she 
 would take them back by her living out of them all : by 
 being Miss Sherburne. She could see herself not as 
 pretty as Miss Neale, but softer and kindlier than Aunt 
 Aurelia, and growing really old with white hair and 
 many years. 
 
 The midnight moon came up and looked into the cham-
 
 360 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 ber, the stars went on their endless journeying, the great 
 pine woods whispered together, the streams went purling 
 onward to the sea. There was soft music and fine, in- 
 tangible, dewy odors ; long grand silences that would 
 awake presently in the murmuring voices of dawn and 
 day, just as the soul of the child would begin a new life, 
 not dreams, but an illumination and comprehension of 
 things past and things to come, of fragmentary fruths to 
 be builded up in the temple of the soul. 
 
 For going over human fields one reaps what one has 
 sown. Happy that one who can lay at the Master's feet 
 an armful of ripened sheaves. 
 
 THE END.
 
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