KATHERINE EARLE 
 
 MISS ADELINE TRAFTON, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "AN AMERICAN GIRL ABROAD," 
 ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 
 
 1874.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Confess, ' n the year 1874, 
 
 BY ADEMNK TUAFTON, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 Electrotypcd at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
 No. 19 Spring Lane.
 
 THE GENTLEST CRITIC IN THE WORLD, 
 
 Pg Pother, 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK. 
 
 2068274
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE HEROINE MAKES A VERY AWKWARD LITTLE Bow 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 KATEY FINDS A FRIEND 21 
 
 CHARTER III. 
 HAPPY DAYS 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END 45 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 KATEY ACTS THE PART OF A DELIVERER 56 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 ALMOST A MARTYR 65 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 WHERE is BEN? 75 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 IN WHICH THE OLD YOUNG MAN APPEARS. 84
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 DACRE HOME 100 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHERE MORE is MEANT THAN MEETS THE EAR Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 PITY'S AKIN TO LOVE 124 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 NEW ACQUAINTANCES 132 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 CAP AND BELLS 144 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 " How LIKE YOU THIS PLAY?" 154 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 A NEW LIFE 162 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " AND ONE WAS WATER, AND ONE STAR WAS FIRE." 179 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE RED ROSE CRIES, "SHE is NEAR, SHE is NEAR." AND 
 THE WHITE ROSE WEEPS, " SHE is LATE." ........ 193 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 A CHAIN TO WEAR 202 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FAR FROM THE EYES, FAR FROM THE HEART ! 209
 
 CONTENTS. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " AND ONE WAS FAR APART, AND ONE WAS NEAR." 218 
 
 CHAFfER XXI. 
 
 " I AM NOT Y^KLL IN HEALTH, AND THAT IS ALL." 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 THE PICNIC 242 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 KATEY'S CONFESSION 252 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Do WE KEEP OUR LOVE TO PAY OUR DEBTS WITH? 264 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 A BEGGAR-MAID 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THERE'S ROSEMARY ; THAT'S FOR REMEMBRANCE 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 UNTANGLING THE SKEIN 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 NORTH AND SOUTH 306 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 MARRIAGE BELLS 322
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE HEROINE MAKES A VERT AWKWARD LITTLE BOW. 
 
 THERE stood upon Poplar Street in Boston, twenty 
 years or more ago, one of those great wooden 
 mansions in which our forefathers of pre-revolu- 
 tionary times delighted the embodied conception, 
 to their minds, of elegant homes. Progress and so- 
 called necessity, and, above all, the restless spirit of 
 Young America, are now fast sweeping them from 
 sight. This has been gone for years, and a brick 
 school-house reared in its place, where, most appro- 
 priately, ideas of progress, utility, and irreverence 
 for the old and useless are implanted in the minds 
 of the rising generation. 
 
 The street is still narrow, the expansion of mind 
 which has gradually enlarged the borders, the phari- 
 saical spirit of greed and gain which has made wide 
 the phylacteries in other parts of the city, having 
 done little or nothing here. It was at that time, and 
 is now, a line between affluence upon one hand and 
 
 9
 
 10 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 respectable poverty, looking towards squalor, upon 
 the other. Block after block with this one excep- 
 tion of brick or stone houses filled the street; 
 chrysalides, from which the old inhabitants have long 
 since winged their way to airier and more elegant 
 quarters. 
 
 The Earle house, of which we speak, stood upon 
 the right hand, where the street bends to fall towards 
 the glimmer of water lined off with masts, faintly 
 perceptible between the dull rows of ugly houses, at 
 their termination. Its face was turned away from the 
 street, and its old eyes stared across the narrow strip 
 of yard upon a blank brick wall. There had been 
 gardens about it once, in the far-off time when the 
 family was rich and held its own ; then, too, green 
 meadows stretched away from the garden wall down 
 to the water's edge. In those days, when his majes- 
 ty's troops were quartered in the town, General Gage 
 had more than once honored the house with his pres- 
 ence. The wine-glass could still be shown which he 
 had drained, and, smiling down now from among the 
 portraits upon the walls was a fair Delphine Earle, 
 with powdered hair and in shining brocade, into whose 
 ears he had whispered stately compliments. Ah, how 
 the beautiful garden blossomed with gold lace and 
 scarlet uniforms a gorgeous century plant, nipped 
 later by New England frosts ! But times changed ; 
 wealth and power slipped away from the family. The 
 town grew into a city ; meadows and gardens disap- 
 peared ; only the old house, dingy, forlorn, a wreck 
 of its former self, remained. 
 
 It was a cosy, old-fashioned room, where the Earle 
 family were assembled one winter evening, twenty-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 11 
 
 five years ago. The faded, heavy hangings over the 
 windows, the carved straight-backed chairs, the mas- 
 sive round centre-table, with lion's claws for its sup- 
 port, the wide, tarnished frames upon the walls, 
 enclosing dim old portraits, even the soft confusion 
 of warm, worn colors under one's feet, told of sub- 
 stantial wealth and comfort but, alas ! of the wealth 
 and comfort of a former generation. 
 
 A low fire snapped and flamed upon the hearth. 
 Before it, in one of the high-backed chairs, sat the 
 mother of the family. The face, although faded, was 
 still beautiful in its outline. The hair, brown and 
 smooth, was put away under a head-dress in the form 
 of a turban of lace, which yet suggested a widow's 
 cap. Her eyes rested thoughtfully upon the fire ; her 
 thin, shapely hands held a little note as they lay 
 crossed in her lap. Curled into a graceful heap upon 
 the sofa in one corner, her arms under her head, her 
 face turned with eager expectation towards her moth- 
 er, was Delphine, the eldest of the three children, who, 
 indeed, had outgrown childhood, and was eighteen 
 and a beauty. Jack, five years younger, bent over 
 his lessons at the centre-table, where Katey, almost 
 eight, nestled close to his side, her head hidden in a 
 book so large that she seemed to have vanished be- 
 hind a folding screen. 
 
 " You can go if you wish to," the mother said at 
 length, fingering the note in her hand ; " but " 
 
 Delphine sat upright to clap her hands softly. 
 - Jack raised his face. "I hate parties," he said, 
 sententiously. 
 
 " How can you say so ? " returned Delphine, whose 
 face flamed and shone at the vision the words had
 
 12 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 called up the rare bit of color in a dull life. " You, 
 would like to go, Katey ? " 
 
 A pair of great dark eyes in the midst of a pale, ab- 
 sorbed face, a mass of dark hair hastily thrust back 
 from a low, wide forehead, emerged from the covers 
 of the book. 
 
 " To go where ? " and the child gave a bewildered 
 glance from one to the other. 
 
 " Why, to Janie Home's party, of course," Delphine 
 explained, impatiently. Her bright, fresh nature, 
 with its keen enjoyment of the present, had many 
 a trial in Katey's slow travelling home from a thou- 
 sand miles away, where her thoughts seemed always 
 wandering. 
 
 " I don't know ; " and one little brown elbow rested 
 upon the book-cover, and one little brown cheek dis- 
 appeared in the palm of her hand, as Katey proceeded 
 to consider the subject. But Delphine had already 
 forgotten her question. "I shall have to wear the 
 green pongee," she was saying, with a sigh, " and 
 those dreadful slippers ! I only need a cap and 
 bells," she added, with a shrug of her shoulders. 
 
 A warm color which was no reflection from the fire 
 rose in Madam Earle's face. Pride is the last to die. 
 " Perhaps you had better stay at home," she said. 
 
 But every mortification and pain had its bright side 
 to light-hearted Delphine. " I shall not mind, though, 
 in the evening," she went on ; " and perhaps the 
 slippers will be too small by another year, and so fall 
 to Katey. Poor Katey ! I'll try and dance them out 
 before that ; " and she laughed. No care could rest 
 upon Delphine ; no trouble could long shadow her 
 face.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 13 
 
 The slippers were one of those seeming blessings 
 which in the end prove almost a curse. For a lit- 
 tle time, several years before, an old actress had 
 rented a room in the house, and one day, in looking 
 over her treasures, had come upon these relics of past 
 times, the rather tawdry magnificence of which had 
 struck Delphine's fancy. They were of gray kid, 
 profusely ornamented with gay silk embroidery some- 
 what faded, and tarnished gold braid ; and when they 
 were presented to the child her joy was full. She 
 could not rest content until she had displayed them 
 upon her feet, a world too large though they were ; 
 and one summer day she prevailed upon her mother 
 to allow her to wear them to church. Poor Delphine ! 
 it was an experiment ; ending as do so many among 
 older and wiser people. Hardly had the great black 
 gate swung to behind her before she became conscious 
 of attracting an amount of attention upon which she 
 had not reckoned. Stares met her, and whispered 
 words, with suppressed laughter, followed her all the 
 way. As she turned into Brattle Street, and ap- 
 proached the church where the Earles had worshipped 
 since its foundation, every eye of the gathering crowd 
 seemed bent in surprise and amusement upon her 
 shoes. She might better have been shod in her 
 naked feet. Too proud to turn back, she hastened on 
 until the pew-door made a shelter and a refuge. 
 Then, during the first prayer, while the congregation 
 bowed, with any but a prayerful spirit in her angry 
 heart, she slipped out of the church and ran home 
 through the deserted streets. Since that day the 
 slippers had shone with diminished lustre, and only 
 by gas-light, upon the rare occasions when some of
 
 14 KATHERTNE EARLE. 
 
 the school- children entertained their friends. Even 
 then they were regarded doubtfully by the girls, and 
 would have won many a taunt and jeer from the boys, 
 who go straight to the mark in such matters, but for 
 Delphine's beauty, which made of every boy a cour- 
 tier ; and courtiers are smooth-tongued. 
 
 Katey sat quite still, lost in thought, though Del- 
 phine's voice, grown merry now, still went on. " "What 
 is it, kitten ? " whispered Jack, struck at last by the 
 strange attitude and absorbed face. " Don't you want 
 to go to the party ? " 
 
 She turned her eyes gravely upon him without 
 speaking. Then she stealthily pushed her little foot 
 out from under the short gown. There was a yawn- 
 ing rent upon one side of her shoe. " I have no 
 others ; " and the dark eyes displayed a depth of de- 
 spair which touched Jack's heart. He thrust his 
 freckled fingers into the red-brown hair hanging over 
 his forehead, and stared at the page before him. Poor 
 Jack ! What wild impossible schemes were conjured 
 up in his brain at that moment, as he felt the weight 
 of the hardest of all poverty to bear that which 
 goes hand in hand with pride good, honest pride, 
 too, which is not to be scoffed and sneered at ! 
 
 " I'll have 'em mended ! " he whispered in sudden 
 inspiration, coming down from a vision of dainty pink 
 satin slippers to the practical and possible. " I'll 
 take them to old Crinkle the first thing in the 
 morning." 
 
 " Will you ? " Katey nestled nearer to him. Dear 
 old Jack ! He made many a crooked way straight to 
 the little feet. " Then I can go," and her face shone ; 
 " but I never saw a party in .my life. What is it like ? "
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 15 
 
 she added curiously, as though it had been some 
 strange kind of an animal, for instance. 
 
 " Like 0, like like " but, failing in a simile, 
 Jack came to a pause. He was bashful to a painful 
 degree, and shrank always from notice. The party, 
 from which there was no escape if Delphine were 
 really going, was anything but a pleasure in anticipa- 
 tion, and yet he could not check Katey's eager 
 interest. 
 
 " Why, they just walk round, you know, and show 
 their fine clothes," he said at last. 
 
 " But we haven't any fine clothes ! " 
 
 This was too true to be denied, and Jack was 
 silenced for a moment ; but a certain pain in the dark 
 eyes made him go on hiding his own forebodings, and 
 holding up only what was bright and pleasant before 
 the child. 
 
 " And they play games." 
 
 " Do they ? " exclaimed Katey, eagerly. Then, after 
 a moment's pause, " though I don't know any games." 
 
 " And then there's the supper," Jack went on, almost 
 persuading himself, as Katey's face brightened more 
 and more. " That's best of all ice-cream and or- 
 anges and things, you know. Heigh-ho ! " he sighed ; 
 " I wish it was over," forgetting his part suddenly ; 
 but the sigh was lost upon Katey, who bent forward 
 with clasped hands and upturned, glowing face, pictur- 
 ing it out in her mind, herself too insignificant a part 
 of the bright vision to disturb her fancy. She drew a 
 long, trembling breath. " I am sure I shall like it," 
 she said softly, returning to her book, from which, 
 however, she soon emerged again. " Will Dacre Home 
 be there?"
 
 16 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " I suppose so," Jack answered, rather gruffly. He 
 was deep in his lessons again by this time, and did 
 not care to be disturbed. 
 
 " He's an awful boy," whispered the child, solemnly. 
 
 " That's so ; " and Jack allowed his thoughts to 
 wander again from the page before him. " Do you 
 know," he went on in a burst of confidence, " I be- 
 lieve he'll be hung yet." 
 
 Katey's eyes opened round and horrified at the 
 scene conjured up by his prophecy. 
 
 " Then they'd bring home his head," she added after 
 a moment. 
 
 " Bring home his head ? " repeated Jack. 
 
 " Yes ; I read somewhere about Sir Thomas More ; 
 how they brought home his head to his family. I 
 think," she added circumstantially, " that it was tied 
 up in a napkin." 
 
 " He wasn't hung at all," said Jack, from the depth 
 of superior wisdom ; " he was beheaded." 
 
 " ! " Katey replied humbly. From Jack's final 
 judgments she never appealed. 
 
 Jack was true to his promise, and carried the little 
 shoe to be mended the next morning before breakfast. 
 When he ran up the street after school at night, 
 swinging it triumphantly by the string, a tiny figure, 
 wrapped in a queer, old-fashioned cloak, waited for 
 him between the heavy gate and one of the high posts 
 surmounted by great black wooden balls. Dusky 
 shadows were softening the staring red walls all 
 around. Ghostly figures hastened down the street 
 where the gas-lights were beginning to glimmer 
 faintly. A cart, mysteriously full, had creaked over
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 17 
 
 the snow-covered pavements, and paused before the 
 brilliantly-illuminated house across the way. Heavily- 
 laden baskets were being lifted out and carried in, 
 from which, to Katey's mind, the wonderful party was 
 to be evolved. It was very cold out there in the 
 wide crack between the gate and the post ; but a 
 warm thrill shot through the little body as the lights 
 flamed out into the street, bringing one sudden, evanes- 
 cent glimpse of glory before the shades were drawn. 
 
 " It is still damp, and a good deal drawn in on one 
 side," said Jack, displaying the little shoe, which 
 looked as though a bite had been taken out of it; 
 " but you won't care." 
 
 Care ? The little wet, half- worn shoe shone like 
 Cinderella's slipper in Katey's eyes, as the great gate 
 closed after them with a dull thud, and they hastened 
 into the house. 
 
 " Come in ; let me see if you are quite nice," called 
 Madam Earle, an hour later, as she stood framed in the 
 parlor door, while the children descended the stairs, 
 a kind of halo about their young heads cast by the 
 candle carried in black Chloe's hand. 
 
 Delphine danced forward into the fire-light, and 
 gave a sweeping courtesy. The folds of the old green 
 pongee scant and not over bright fluttered out as 
 she bent to the floor. But against the dead green of 
 her gown, her neck and arms shone pure white, and 
 the merry brown eyes, raised to her mother's face, 
 held a charm beyond pearls and diamonds. She 
 thrust out her foot ruefully. It was encased in one 
 of the fantastic slippers. A shadow crossed Madam 
 Earle's face. She felt more keenly than they each 
 2
 
 18 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 thorn which poverty made to pierce the pride of her 
 children. 
 
 " But I don't mind/' Delphine said brightly. " I 
 would sooner dance in my bare feet than sit in a 
 corner in satin slippers." But Delphine would never 
 sit in a corner ; of that her mother was sure. 
 
 Then Katey crept out of the shadows, and stood 
 timidly awaiting inspection. 
 
 " Katey," laughed Delphine, " I can see nothing 
 but your eyes and the great flowers on your gown ! " 
 
 " Are they so very large ? " and Katey looked anx- 
 iously down upon the old-fashioned brocade in which 
 she was arrayed. It was covered with impossible 
 roses, and had come down in various shapes and styles 
 from a former generation, having been made over at 
 last for Delphine in a fashion quite gone by, since 
 which time it had descended to Katey. 
 
 " Are they so very large ? " she repeated, as a mo- 
 ment of silence followed her question. 
 
 " Well, no," burst out Jack ; " if you call them 
 sunflowers, kitten, they are small." 
 
 Katey's eyes had turned imploringly to him. She 
 gave a quick little gasp of pain, which he did not no- 
 tice. Her mother's arm drew her forward. 
 
 " It is a very handsome piece of silk," she said, 
 stroking it with her hand. " I have heard my mother 
 say that when this gown was brought from England 
 there was not another in the colony that could com- 
 pare with it. It would almost stand alone." 
 
 " But it will never stand quite alone," laughed Del- 
 phine, to whom this consolation had been adminis- 
 tered many times. " Unfortunately, some one of us 
 will always have to stand in it."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 19 
 
 " Never mind," whispered Jack in Katey's ear, as 
 the heavy gate swung after them, and they emerged 
 into the street ; " nobody will notice you, and you look 
 nice enough, any way ; not handsom,e, of course, like 
 Delphine." 
 
 " 0, no," assented Katey, who was quite content to 
 be thus estimated, and began to be cheered even so 
 soon by Jack's equivocal praise. The little heart had 
 been full of anxiety a moment before ; but if Jack 
 was satisfied it must be that she was equal to the oc- 
 casion. Jack would know ; he had been to parties 
 before. Poor Jack ! whose heart was heavy enough 
 on his own account at that very moment. 
 
 " Why do you say so ? " exclaimed Delphine, sharply. 
 She had caught his words, low though they were. 
 " You know we look as though we had come out of 
 the ark. But I don't care ; " and she ran up the steps. 
 Carriages were crowding the narrow street ; white- 
 robed little forms were being lifted out and borne in 
 tenderly. A gentleman brushed past them as they 
 stood in the doorway ; he carried a dainty figure 
 in his arms. " Here, Pet, your flowers," as he set her 
 down ; and the little gloved hands received a miniature 
 bouquet as the door was flung wide open. A soft, 
 warm air, sweet with the scent of flowers, a blaze of 
 light, the sound of music all poured out to meet 
 them. Katey, shivering with excitement, overcome 
 with awe, stood still. " What are you waiting for ? " 
 It was. Delphine's voice which roused her. Delphine's 
 hand pulled her forward. She found herself mounting 
 the stairs, led into a room musical with the tinkle of 
 tiny belles transformed beyond all recognition her 
 schoolmates though many of them were.
 
 20 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Is this the party ? " she gasped. 
 
 Don't be silly," Delphine replied. " This is the 
 dressing-room don't you see? Nothing but chil- 
 dren ! " she said aloud, as the maid, who had been 
 fitting dainty slippers to tiny feet, came to meet them. 
 
 " Yes, miss," the girl replied, obsequiously ; every- 
 body gave pretty Delphine her due of honor and 
 respect ; " but it is early yet ; and indeed there are 
 some young ladies and gentlemen down stairs." 
 
 " I know it is early," Delphine replied carelessly, 
 shaking out the clinging folds of the green pongee 
 and drawing on her gloves ; " but we are neighbors." 
 
 Katey, in the mean time, had removed her cloak, not 
 without some hesitation and a throb of terror as to 
 the result. 
 
 " 0, what a funny dress ! " exclaimed a little miss 
 in white lace and pink satin ribbons, staring at the 
 brocade gown. 
 
 " Such flowers I Why, Katey Earle ! " added a 
 school acquaintance, slipping out of a white opera 
 cloak and drawing near. 
 
 " Jack says they are not as big as sunflowers," 
 Katey ventured, deprecatingly. 
 
 " Of course not, you little goose ; " and Delphine 
 joined in the laugh which followed the words. 
 " Come, it is time to go down." And, glad of any 
 change, Katey followed her with tingling cheeks and 
 a heavy, anxious heart.
 
 /CATHERINE EARLE. 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 KATEY FINDS A FRIEND. 
 
 JACK was waiting for them just outside the dress- 
 ing-room door. He had become all at once very 
 stiff, and red-faced, and queer, and not like Jack at all. 
 His hands seerned to have swollen, and protruded, 
 very red and more freckled than ever, to an unusal 
 length beyond the sleeves of his jacket ; and why 
 did he look so choked and strange about the neck? 
 Katey, grown suddenly observant through painful 
 experience, gave him a quick, searching glance from 
 head to foot, mentally comparing him with the fine 
 young gentlemen gathered at the head of the stairs. 
 There was a difference, but in what it lay she could 
 not tell ; certainly boys' clothes were all alike, just 
 jackets and trousers, she thought, enviously. But 
 boys' clothes are not all alike, as poor Jack had found, 
 to his sorrow, in that long ten minutes of waiting, the 
 torments of which Katey fortunately did not know. 
 She dreAv in a deep breath of comfort ; she could bear 
 the flaming brocade even, which refused to stand 
 alone, if she were quite sure that Jack was not hurt. 
 
 " I'll find you a seat somewhere," said Delphine, 
 when they had crossed the room and presented them- 
 selves to the little hostess, who received her guests 
 with the assurance of years in society. A hush, then
 
 22 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 a low titter, had followed them. Jack's face flamed, 
 and the hands hanging awkwardly at his side clinched 
 themselves for an instant. Delphine raised her head 
 proudly, but her face grew white ; only Katoy, be- 
 wildered by the bright scene, heard nothing. 
 
 " There ! " and Delphino tucked the child into a cor- 
 ner ; " you can sit here until they begin to play," which 
 Katey was only too glad to do. The first moment of 
 confusion and bewilderment was past, and the room 
 seemed suddenly full of strange, unfriendly eyes 
 searching her out. She shrank as far from sight as 
 possible. Jack lingered awkwardly beside her for a 
 few moments ; then the crowd swallowed him up. 
 Delphine, too, disappeared ; but, secure in her corner, 
 Katey for the time was happy, in that pitiful, unnatu- 
 ral happiness for a child the being permitted to look 
 on while others play. 
 
 They were forming a contra-dance in the next room. 
 One of the young ladies belonging to the house, busily 
 pairing off the little people, paused before Katey at 
 last. " Will you have a partner, little girl ? " 
 
 "I I don't know," stammered Katey. She did 
 not understand the question ; but this might be one 
 of the games of which Jack had told her. 
 
 " Can you dance ? " The girl spoke impatiently. 
 What a stupid, little old-fashioned child it was, to be 
 sure ! 
 
 "I don't know," Katey answered with grave con- 
 sideration ; " I never tried." 
 
 The girl stared, laughed, and went on. 
 
 " I almost think I could," the child continued to her- 
 self, leaning out from her corner to watch the dancers. 
 She was growing accustomed to the scene, and now
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 23 
 
 a desire to participate in it seized upon her. With a 
 glowing, eager face and shining eyes she followed the 
 strange movements, while the music, rising and fall- 
 ing, beat its own time in her heart. There was a 
 little stir, and the crowd about her pressed back ; the 
 green pongee fluttered before her eyes, as Delphine, 
 flushed and radiant, chases down the room. Her 
 hands were crossed in those of an old-young man, 
 with a bald spot on the top of his head, and a murmur 
 of admiration followed the twinkle of the bespangled 
 slippers. Katey's glance was full of breathless de- 
 light ; she gloried in Delphine's beauty ; she shared 
 her triumph. In her eagerness she did not notice the 
 approach of a set of young fops of her own age who 
 had been watching her for some time from across the 
 room. A sudden pinch, causing her to utter a half- 
 suppressed cry as she grasped her arm, called them 
 first to her notice. 
 
 " Hello, granny ! " She looked up, her eyes full of 
 the tears the pain had brought, to find a face made 
 horrible by contortions, close to her own. Dacre 
 Home, upon the edge of the group, laughed a cruel, 
 mocking laugh. " 0, come on," he said, superciliously ; 
 " don't torment the child." There was a spark of feel- 
 ing somewhere in the boy which had been touched 
 by the child's tears. 
 
 " Jimminy, what shoes ! " exclaimed another, as 
 they moved away. The little foot had been thrust 
 out in her excitement, displaying the marks of old 
 Crinkle's skill to all beholders. A sob rose in her 
 throat as she hastily drew it under her gown. The 
 pain in her arm stung her still ; but it was nothing to 
 the pain that cruel taunt had awakened in her heart.
 
 24 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 0, where was Jack ! If he would only take her home ! 
 Why did she ever come ? The glamour was all gone. 
 It was not fairydom any longer, as, shrinking back out 
 of sight, she wiped her eyes stealthily. 
 
 Delphine sought her out at last. " What, still here 1 
 Why don't you go and play with the others ? " 
 
 The child had choked back her tears at Delphine's 
 approach. A sensitive pride made her hide her bitter 
 experience. Jack was somewhere happy. Delphine, 
 too, flamed upon her like a star ; it was only herself 
 who was miserable ; nobody should know ; she could 
 bear it for a little time ; they would go home pres- 
 ently. " I would rather stay here," she Baid ; " be- 
 sides, I can see everything." 
 
 " Well, you are the oddest little thing," Delphine 
 replied. To her, seeing was but a small part of the 
 evening's pleasure, and conscious of thus having done 
 her duty in looking after Katey, she sailed away 
 again upon the arm of the old-young man, if one 
 could be said to sail under such scant canvas. But 
 even this little exchange of words created a diversion, 
 and made the child less miserable. Then by leaning 
 forward she discovered that she could hide her shoes 
 with the skirt of her gown. This, too, was a comfort ; 
 and her heart grew more light. Then, when the 
 games really began, and one and another saw that she 
 did not join in them, tiny fans and lace-edged hand- 
 kerchiefs were laid in her lap for safe-keeping, caus- 
 ing a friendly exchange of words, and giving her a 
 kind of silent partnership in them. So her enjoyment, 
 slowly stealing back, reached its culmination, when 
 Jack presently came down the room, very red and 
 swollen in appearance still, as though his jacket were
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 25 
 
 much too tight for him, but with Josie Durant, the 
 prettiest little lady in the room, hanging upon his 
 arm. Nothing escaped Katey's eyes, from the little 
 white feet shining through the open- worked stockings 
 above the satin slippers, to the yellow hair coiffured 
 in the latest style over the childish face. 
 
 " I told your brother that he ought to go and find 
 you," said the little lady, with an authoritative air, 
 which seemed to Katey very droll ; " and so, you see, 
 I've brought him." Jack reddened and laughed, look- 
 ing rather silly, but thoroughly pleased. Yes, Katey 
 saw, and so did all the little lords and ladies, busy 
 with their game, regarding her with new favor ; for 
 did not Josie Durant wear real diamond earrings ? 
 
 " What does he like to do ? " the little girl went on, 
 still coquettishly ignoring Jack's name. " He will not 
 play anything." 
 
 Jack, twisting a button upon his jacket, and blushing 
 up to his eyes, offered not a word in his own defence. 
 " Let me see," Katey pondered gravely, seized with 
 a violent interest in Jack's favorite pursuits ; " he likes 
 to slide down hill." 
 
 Jack laughed. 
 
 " But you can't slide down hill at parties," the child 
 replied. 
 
 " No," assented Katey. 
 
 " So I don't know what we shall do with him ; " as 
 though Jack must be immediately employed, or, at 
 least, amused. " Please fasten my glove." Jack's 
 red fingers resolved themselves into ten thumbs, each 
 one more clumsy than the others. 
 
 " 0, let me do it ;" and Katey drew the button into 
 place.
 
 26 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " I haven't seen you before to-night," said Miss 
 Josie, while this operation was going on. With 
 instinctive politeness, which is only kindness, after 
 all, the little girl tried to keep her eyes from the flow- 
 ered gown. " Seems to me you haven't been around 
 much." 
 
 " No-o," Katey replied, slowly, giving a final pat to 
 the little wrist before releasing it, " I haven't, much." 
 
 She could not mortify Jack before Miss Josie by 
 confessing that she had sat upon that blessed ottoman 
 in the corner ever since the party began. Instinctive- 
 ly she guarded the honor of the family. 
 
 "Well, we must go," said the kind little tyrant, 
 presently, turning Jack around. " Perhaps we'll come 
 again. I forgot to ask if you were having a good 
 time," she threw over her shoulder. 
 
 " Beautiful," Katey responded, warmly. There was 
 no doubt upon the subject in her mind, as they disap- 
 peared, the tiny gloved hand still resting upon the 
 sleeve of Jack's outgrown jacket. " And then there's 
 the supper," thought the child, who was weighing and 
 measuring her joys as only they do to whom joys are 
 few and rare. 
 
 The music startled the little people in the midst of 
 their game. It was a march now, and a long proces- 
 sion began to form. All the little fans and handker- 
 chiefs were caught from Katey 's lap, as their owners 
 hastened to place themselves in the line. The young 
 lady who had offered her a partner for the first dance 
 was arranging the little masters and misses in couples. 
 Katey, in her corner, was quite overlooked. Perhaps 
 Jack would come, she thought, anxiously scanning the 
 jackets dancing about before her eyes. Once in the
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 27 
 
 distance she caught a glimpse of the green pongee. 
 Delphine was a young lady, and between her and 
 Katey, by reason of years, was a great gulf fixed ; but 
 Jack ! it was not like Jack to forget. The proces- 
 sion moved out of the room. Katey's heart swelled 
 with grief, which changed to anger against the little 
 lady who had satin slippers, real diamond earrings, 
 and Jack. A tear had fallen into her lap upon the 
 poor despised roses, where it shone for a moment like 
 dew. But as her anger rose the tears dried away. 
 "Jack ought not to do so," she said aloud, in a 
 strange, excited tone. She was alone ; the last couple 
 had passed out ; the music sounded faint in the dis- 
 tance. She started up with a sudden purpose. " I'll 
 go home." She darted out into the hall, at the farther 
 end of which was the supper-room. Between the 
 parted forms gathered about the door she caught a 
 momentary glimpse of the glories beyond. Merry, 
 shrill voices came out to her with the sweet strains of 
 the music. A confusion of bright, happy faces, of 
 fairy forms, danced before her eyes a paradise from 
 which she was shut out ; and 0, dreadful to see, 
 there was Jack her Jack with no care or anx- 
 iety upon his face, bashful, but triumphant, with Josie 
 Durant at his side. He held her plate; one of her 
 dainty gloves peeped out of his pocket. Katey 
 marked it all, as she stood for a moment with parted 
 lips, flushed cheeks, and little dark hands clinched 
 tight. A pale-faced boy, sitting upon the stairs with 
 a crutch lying beside him, leaned over to watch the 
 queer little figure. What could be the matter with 
 the child, as, suddenly turning, she darted up the 
 stairs, falling over the crutch in her haste !
 
 28 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " One moment, please." He caught at the brocade 
 gown to save her. " I believe I shall have to trouble 
 you for my crutch." It had slid to the foot of the 
 stairs. 
 
 " 0," said Katey, recovering herself, and diverted 
 for the moment from her purpose, " I must have struck 
 it ; but you see I'm in a hurry," as she ran down to 
 recover it. 
 
 " Yes, I should think so." What an odd little crea- 
 ture it was, to be sure, in the queer, old-fashioned 
 gown, and with a mass of dark hair tossed by her fall 
 about her face ! " But won't you sit down a moment ? 
 It is rather lonely here all by one's self." 
 
 Katey had given him a hurried inspection. He was 
 years older than Jack, but not so handsome, though 
 his clothes were finer, and not at all outgrown. Poor 
 Katey had become observant in such matters. Then 
 he really desired her to sit by him. That was being 
 almost like the other girls in pretty gowns down 
 stairs ; and her queer little heart grew light again. 
 " I believe I will," she said, perching herself primly 
 upon the stair above him. " But you should not stay 
 here," she went on, as visions of the glories below 
 floated before her mind ; " you won't get any supper." 
 
 " 0, yes, I will ; they told me to remain here out of 
 the crowd until they sent one of the waiters to me." 
 
 Katey had not the least conception as to whom 
 " they " referred ; but she had become somewhat em- 
 bittered by her late experience, and inclined to doubt 
 everybody. " Perhaps they'll forget you," she sug- 
 gested, secretly wiping away a tear with the corner 
 of a very large embroidered handkerchief. 
 
 " 0, no ; they won't do that, I am sure."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 29 
 
 " I don't know," persisted Katey, sorrowfully, " they 
 forgot me. 1 ' 
 
 " I'm glad of it," the boy replied. So that was the 
 trouble, he thought. " I am not really glad, of course, 
 and I don't see how it could have happened," he 
 added, diplomatically ; " but how fortunate for me ! I 
 should have had to sit here alone." 
 
 Katey made no reply to the words so full of kindly 
 tact. She seemed lost in thought. The little hands 
 were clasped tight over the great roses blossoming 
 upon the diminutive knees. The wide forehead under 
 the dark tangles which had fallen over it was drawn 
 by two horizontal lines where the eyes came together 
 in consultation. " How should you like," she began 
 again, presently, " to have your brother go off with 
 another girl ? " 
 
 The boy was rather abashed by the suddenness, 
 not to say the strangeness, of the proposition. " Well," 
 he replied, slowly, " if she was a very nice girl 
 
 " With real diamond earrings," interpolated Katey, 
 not losing sight of the honor conferred upon the 
 family. 
 
 " Yes," assented the boy, gravely. Katey's great 
 eyes were upon him, and he dared not smile ; " and 
 open-work stockings," she continued. 
 
 "Yes," he went on, " and with open-work stock- 
 ings, by all means ; a very nice girl," he ventured. 
 
 " Yes," said Katey, warming to the subject, " not a 
 bit ashamed to speak to anybody in a corner." 
 
 " 0, no, not at all," repeated the boy. " Why, I 
 think I should like it very well." 
 
 " So do I," exclaimed Katey, now thoroughly aroused 
 to the advantages of the situation, and veering en- 
 tirely around. " I think it is beautiful."
 
 30 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 11 Here it is now ; " and her new friend leaned down 
 to receive a plate loaded with strange delicacies. 
 " Pomp ! " he called after the waiter, who was an 
 awful personage in Katey's eyes, " another plate, and 
 sharp, now." 
 
 He piled the lion's share into her lap, until the child 
 laughed aloud in her delight. It was not for the 
 cakes and candies; she was too happy to eat; but it 
 was so delightful to be waited upon ; to be almost like 
 the little girls down stairs ! " Jack said the Bupper 
 would be best of all; and there he is now!" as 
 a boy suddenly appeared, darting in and out of the 
 parlors, and thrusting his head into the corners, as 
 though searching for some one. " Jack ! " she called, 
 nearly overturning her plate as she started from her 
 seat. 
 
 " What are you doing up there ? " Jack responded, 
 rather crossly, as, heated and breathless, he discov- 
 ered her at last. " 0," in a milder tone, as he caught 
 sight of her companion, " I thought you were alone." 
 
 " No," replied Katey, " I am not alone at all. There 
 is a very nice boy here ; 'most as nice as you, but not so 
 handsome," she added, in a whisper, speaking through 
 the stair rails. 
 
 The very nice boy laughed, and appeared a little 
 embarrassed by this frank speech, which somewhat 
 mollified Jack. "I'll take care of your sister," he 
 said ; " you can find her here after supper." 
 
 " Yes," added Katey, sitting down again to her nuts 
 and raisins. " You can go back, Jack ; I don't care 
 anything at all about it now." What it was about 
 which Katey had ceased to care, Jack did not pause 
 to inquire, but, thus relieved from all responsibility, 
 hastened away again.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 31 
 
 An hour later, when, hooded and cloaked, the chil- 
 dren trooped down the stairs to go home, in the mo- 
 ment of waiting Katey found herself once more by the 
 side of her new acquaintance. He stood leaning upon 
 his crutch, looking pale and tired. " You'd better go 
 and sit down," she said, in a motherly tone, which 
 greatly amused the boy. 
 
 " I must stand sometimes for a change," he replied ; 
 " you see I can't run about as you do." 
 
 " I don't care to run about," said Katey, with an ill- 
 defined attempt at consolation. " Still," she added, 
 with grave truthfulness, " I suppose I should care to 
 if I couldn't. Then Delphine's hand drew her away. 
 
 " Why did you do so ? " Katey said, when the door 
 had closed after them, and they were out in the dark, 
 still night. " Why did you pull me away ? I wanted 
 to say good-night to him," 
 
 " Who is he ? " Delphine asked, in reply ; for Del- 
 phine, with all her gayety, had a high regard for the 
 proprieties, and looked with distrust upon this sudden 
 friendliness. 
 
 " I don't know ; but he is a very nice boy." 
 
 "But what is -his name?" persisted Delphine. 
 " Of course some one introduced you." 
 
 " No, they didn't ; but he is a very nice boy." 
 
 " Boy ! " repeated Delphine ; " he is as old as I, and 
 I should not have thought, Katey, that you would be 
 so familiar with a stranger." 
 
 Poor Katey, darting before the others in sudden 
 anger, feeling dimly that the reproof was unjust, an- 
 swered only with a little burst of sobs, as she ran up 
 the steps of the ghostly old house. But the tears 
 soon dried away ; it was only a patter of great drops
 
 32 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 after that little hot flash. It had been a beautiful time, 
 after all, she thought, creeping up the wide stairs in 
 the darkness to where Chloe sat over the fire in Del- 
 phine's room, half asleep, waiting to undress them. 
 
 " Dere warn't nuffin so fine as dis yere, I'll be 
 boun'," she said, fumbling with dusky fingers over the 
 fastenings of the brocade gown, as the fire-light made 
 all the roses bloom again. 
 
 " There was certainly nothing at all like it," laughed 
 Delphine, shaking down her long, rippling hair.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HAPPY DAYS. 
 
 AMONG the most vivid recollections in after years 
 of Katey's early life were those associated with 
 the great brick school-house at the West End, where 
 so many hours of each endless day were passed 
 the paved yard in which the girls, old and young, 
 walked solemnly at recess under the eye of the moni- 
 tor ; the long, dimly-lighted alley at one side of the 
 gate, where they promenaded in stormy weather, 
 whispering " secrets " which might have been shouted 
 upon the house-top; the wide plank walk over the 
 way, upon the side street, worn into grooves by 
 little feet, where games which possibly still rule 
 and reign among little folks were played at noon time. 
 The great trees in the hospital yard leaned over and 
 stretched out their arms here to the passers, bestowing 
 a benediction and blessing of pleasant shade upon the 
 children. Thick with leaves were the branches and 
 white with dust in the summer time. Do other chil- 
 dren play there now ? 
 
 Beyond were the great gates giving entrance to the 
 hospital grounds, wiuh the porter's lodge, like a sen- 
 try-box just inside. Katey used to dart past it, half 
 fearful of recall, on Saturday afternoons, when she had 
 permission to come here and spend an hour or two 
 3
 
 34 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 with her old nurse, Elsie Bird, who had charge now of 
 the queer, round laundry-house, with its odd, steamy 
 odors, and many delightful mysteries. Upon a bit of 
 carpet laid over the brick floor where she stood before 
 the table encircling the ironing-room, Elsie was always 
 found, surrounded by her satellites pleasant-faced 
 Irish girls, who never failed to have a word of welcome 
 for the child. A tall, gaunt woman, of muscular build, 
 was Elsie, but with voice and ways strangely shy and 
 gentle. She made these visits high holidays to Katey. 
 A tiny polishing iron and long rolls of linen bandages 
 always awaited the child, who played at ironing ; and 
 when these failed to amuse, her hand held fast in 
 Elsie's, she strayed through the long, bewildering cor- 
 ridors, up the wide stairs, and into the strange stillness 
 of the regions where the sick, and sore, and hurt lay 
 in their white beds. Never like human creatures did 
 these sufferers appear to her. Mysterious beings they 
 were, unlike any who walked the streets outside, with 
 their great glassy eyes following her as she passed fear- 
 fully over the bare floor. Sometimes they paused in 
 the dissecting-room, where the vacant seats rose to the 
 ceiling, and in the midst of which was the table where 
 the sufferers lay down to be healed by the knife. The 
 nurses, meeting Elsie, would recount some fearful tale 
 of disease, or pain, or death ; Katey, horror-stricken 
 but fascinated, listening the while. Or, to please 
 her, as they thought, they showed the skeleton in his 
 case, a ghastly sight, which haunted her afterwards 
 at night, and the shrivelled, blackened mumm} r , 
 with the scarab which had been worshipped thousands 
 of years before fastened to its nose. Are they there 
 still?
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 35 
 
 One afternoon, as she bent over her ironing-table 
 improvised from a chair, she was conscious of a sudden 
 hush throughout the queer high room. Looking up 
 from her little round- edged iron, she saw a group of 
 gentlemen just within the door. The pleasant-faced 
 superintendent often came here. Katey had seen him 
 many times. He beckoned to her now, as Elsie left her 
 work, and the girls, struck with strange awe, made con- 
 tinual obeisance, bowing to the floor, yet not for him. 
 " This is Father Mathew," said he, kindly, as the child 
 with her little hot, red face stood before him, the roll 
 of linen tangled about her feet. She noticed then that 
 some of the party wore long, straight coats, like that of 
 the old priest who went up and down Poplar Street 
 sometimes ; and at these words, one, in advance of the 
 others, who had been speaking to Elsie, took her little 
 hand, still hot from the iron, in his, with a murmur of 
 kind words. Long afterwards she remembered the 
 hand-clasp and the gentle tones of his voice, when all 
 recollection of the face or figure of the Irish reformer 
 had faded from her mind. 
 
 Then what delight it was, when the day drew near 
 its end, still clinging to Elsie's gown, to follow her to 
 the low room where the supper table was spread out, 
 with great stone pitchers of milk, and high, neatly ar- 
 ranged piles of brown and white bread ; and last of all, 
 to gather with the household in the great wainscoted 
 hall for prayers. The summer twilight stole in at the 
 open windows with the rustle of the leaves outside. 
 The noise of the city had died away to a murmur 
 pleasant to the ear. Katey, kneeling upon the bare 
 floor, saw the white faces of the sick, who had crept 
 down, glorified by the last rays of the sun ; and taking
 
 36 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 in none of the rolling words of the prayer, had yet an 
 awful consciousness that God canie very near. 
 
 The afternoon following the party the girls trooped 
 out at the door of the high brick school-house, the con- 
 strained voices breaking into call and shout as the 
 final bounds were passed and they separated to go their 
 several ways. Katey, in a little red hood, and an old 
 brown sack, rather pinched about the arms, but of a 
 material which had been fine in its day, came slowly 
 up the street among the last with Josie Durant. Her 
 progress was somewhat impeded by the very large 
 overshoes upon her feet, which had belonged originally 
 to Delphmc, and would yawn at the sides as though 
 they laughed at every step she made, to say nothing 
 of catching at the toes against projections so far be- 
 yond the little feet as to be out of all calculation. 
 
 There was a row of English-basement houses, com- 
 fortable and even handsome, along the street, in the 
 front window of each of which, shining with silver and 
 glass, a tea table was set out. It was a daily source 
 of enjoyment to Katey to speculate upon the delicacies 
 which would doubtless appear when the shades were 
 drawn, the gas lighted, and the families assembled. 
 Though not alone, she did not forget it now. " Mince 
 pie and ice-cream, yes, and jujube-paste ; " she was 
 settling this rather unwholesome bill of fare in her 
 mind when some one ran hastily by and up the high 
 stone steps to the house. It was little Annie Conway, 
 whoso seat was across the aisle from her own at 
 school. 
 
 "Is that you, Katey Earle? I'm going up to the 
 Common to coast. Why don't you go ? " 
 
 The wind blew an. icy blast down the street ; the
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 37 
 
 bank of cloud behind the hospital was already flaming 
 red in the sunset. " I don't know," Katey replied, 
 slowly ; " I believe I'll ask mother. You'll come, too, 
 Josie ? " 
 
 But the little lady was undecided. " There'll be a 
 crowd of boys," uttering the word boys as though it 
 had been mosquitos, or any other swarming plague. 
 
 " But wo might find Jack. He would take care of 
 us." 
 
 " Who is Jack ? " queried the little girl, swinging 
 from the door-knob above them. 
 
 " Don't you know Jack ? " exclaimed Katey, too 
 much astonished at her benighted condition to attempt 
 an explanation. 
 
 " He's Katey's brother," said Josie, while a soft lit- 
 tle blush, the shade of the pretty pink hood upon her 
 head, stole into her cheeks. 
 
 " 0," the little girl replied, carelessly ; adding, with 
 the unpleasant frankness of childhood, " it's that 
 freckled boy." 
 
 "No, it isn't," denied Katey, planting Delphine's 
 overshoes like a battery before the steps, prepared for 
 a siege of any length in Jack's behalf. 
 
 " Come, Katey," whispered Josie, persuasively, pull- 
 ing at her sleeve as the child shouted back, " 'Tis too ; 
 I saw him last night at the party ; and he's awful bash- 
 ful." 
 
 This was altogether too much to bear without com- 
 mencing hostilities. Before the words fairly reached 
 her, Katey had seized a handful of snow and discharged 
 it at the child. But as she aimed with the accuracy 
 peculiar to the sex even in a youthful stage, it only 
 flew a short distance in the air above her, to descend,
 
 38 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 like curses, in a shower upon her own head, as the 
 door closed hastily after the retreating little figure. 
 
 " Don't mind it," sai'd Josie, in a conciliatory tone, 
 which, however, only exasperated Katey. " She didn't 
 mean anything ; and then you know your brother is 
 that is, he has " 
 
 Katey faced her with a terrible countenance, in 
 which surprise and pain waged a warfare with indig- 
 nation. " You've took sides with her ! " she gasped, 
 her grammar flying to the winds. " I'll just go home 
 and tell Jack ! " 
 
 " You can if you wish to," returned Josie, her face 
 growing white. " But I didn't think you were such a 
 girl as that; and and I haven't taken sides at all." 
 The color had returned to her face, but there was a 
 sob in her throat as she walked on alone. 
 
 Poor Katey, whose fitful moods were no less sur- 
 prising to herself than to others, shuffled along the 
 street very sorry and penitent, the anger having died 
 down in her heart as quickly as it rose. And what 
 would Jack say ? An awful burden of remorse fell 
 upon her with that thought. 
 
 They had turned the corner, and were approaching 
 the old brick church, where their ways separated. 
 Katey moved the overshoes at a quicker pace until she 
 gained Josie's side. " Are are you going up to the 
 Common ? " she ventured, in a very weak voice. 
 
 " I don't suppose you want me to go," Josie replied, 
 staring straight before her, the tears still wet on her 
 cheeks. 
 
 Katey saw her advantage. There is nothing like 
 taking high ground and assuming to be the injured 
 party in a quarrel. " Now if you are cross just because 
 I said that " she began.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 39 
 
 " I am not cross." The tables were suddenly turned, 
 as little Miss Josie found to her bewilderment. 
 
 " Aren't you ! " Katey exclaimed in a happy voice. 
 A great load was lifted from her. " Then I'll run home 
 and ask mother." Her heart was much lighter than 
 her feet as she started off down the street upon a 
 shuffling run. 
 
 " Katey ! " called Josie ; and when she returned, 
 " You're not going to tell Jack? " 
 
 " 0, no, indeed ; " as though such a thought had never 
 entered her mind. " Besides, it might hurt his feel- 
 ings," she added in a low tone, confidentially, " for 
 you know he is awful freckled." 
 
 Half an hour later they moved slowly up the long 
 walk of the Common. Night was beginning to steal 
 over the city. Lights shone in the windows along the 
 street, and twinkled among the trees in the distance 
 like blinking eyes. A keen north wind rattled the 
 frozen branches overhead, sending more than one 
 shower of icicles upon the little heads. " I wish we 
 hadn't come," sighed Katey. "'I don't see where Jack 
 can be. There he is now, I believe," as a sturdy 
 little figure, very much muffled up about the ears, and 
 dragging a sled after him, came down one of the cross 
 paths from the long slide where the coasters flew over 
 the hill like black balls in the twilight. 
 
 " Holloa what are you here for ? " was Jack's 
 rather discouraging greeting, as he caught sight of 
 the little red hood. < 
 
 " We wanted to slide," Katey replied, humbly ; 
 then she stepped forward, revealing Josie, who was 
 staring with a very prim, absorbed air at the lamp- 
 post close by.
 
 40 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " ! " and Jack removed the lion's skin at once, 
 and became awkward and meek as a lamb. 
 
 " It's too late to slide, but I might draw one of you 
 home/ 7 he suggested, bashfully. 
 
 There was a momentary dispute between the little 
 girls. "You." "No, you." But at last Josie's bright- 
 colored skirts were tucked about the little feet upon 
 the old sled, and the small procession started home- 
 ward. They were passing one of the crowded en- 
 trances to the Common, on their way up the hill, when 
 Katey darted away, dropping one of the overshoes in 
 her haste. She had espied a tall boy leaning upon a 
 crutch, and recognized in him her friend of the night 
 before. But when she stood, an odd little figure, just 
 before him, seized with shyness, she had not a Avord 
 to say. 
 
 " Why, how do you do ? " exclaimed the boy, cor- 
 dially. 
 
 " 0, 1 am well," replied Katey, who recognized no 
 spiritual significance in the greeting, but a literal 
 desire to know of her health. " Here is Jack, and 
 her," she added, in a loud whisper, as Jack and Josie 
 came up. 
 
 " Her ? " repeated the boy, inquiringly. " 0, yes ; 
 the very nice little girl. I understand." 
 
 " What do you mean, Katey Earle, " exclaimed 
 Jack, " by running off in that way ? " Poor Jack had 
 recovered the overshoe with some difficulty, and was 
 rather cross and breathless with his efforts in over- 
 taking its owner. 
 
 " I don't mean anything," Katey replied, simply. 
 " I only came here to see this boy." 
 
 The boy smiled and touched his cap to Miss Josie,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE, 41 
 
 who made a prim little bow from her temporary 
 throne. " I saw you last evening, I think." 
 
 " 0, yes," said Jack. " You're the fellow who was 
 sitting on the stairs. I should think it would be 
 awful dull " he went on, fixing his eyes upon the 
 crutch ; then he stopped. But the boy took up his 
 words. " It is dull enough," he said ; " but I hope it 
 is only for a little while. I fell on the ice a month 
 ago, and have been laid up ever since. I am just 
 getting about again." 
 
 " ! " said Katey, immensely relieved, and yet upon 
 second thought rather disappointed that her hero 
 should be much like other boys, after all. "Then 
 you don't mean to go on crutches always ? " 
 
 " I don't mean to, certainly," replied the boy, who 
 seemed a little embarrassed by all this conversation 
 about himself. " Are you having a pleasant time ? " 
 he asked Katey, suddenly ; " I have been watching 
 the coasters." 
 
 " 0, yes," replied Katey, whose little face was quite 
 blue, and who stood with the unprotected foot deep 
 in the snow ; " beautiful ! " 
 
 " But where is your sled ? " 
 
 " I use Jack's ; that is, when he'll let me," she add- 
 ed, with a truthfulness which did not tend to con- 
 ciliate Jack. 
 
 The boy seemed to consider a moment, as they stood 
 just within the iron posts, pushed and jostled by the 
 passers hurrying in and out. 
 
 Jack moved impatiently. " Come, Katey." 
 
 " I'm going home now," said her friend ; " perhaps 
 you will let me walk up Park Street with you ; I live 
 there." And he pointed to the block of houses just
 
 42 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 beyond the church. They moved on, Katey trying to 
 accommodate her short steps to the uneven ones by 
 her side. " I thought I should see you again," said 
 the boy. " Sometimes you are sure of things, you 
 know, even when you can't tell why." 
 
 Katey made no reply. She did not understand at 
 all what he was saying ; she was watching the queer 
 little shadows dancing upon the snow under the gas- 
 light, her ears full of the sound of tinkling bells. 
 " But when I say good night now,'' he added, " I can't 
 feel sure again, because I am going away." 
 
 " But you'll come back again ; people always come 
 back." This had been Katey's experience. 
 
 " 0, yes, some time, perhaps. But here we are now. 
 Wait a moment," he added, hurriedly ; " or come in." 
 
 " 0, no," Katey replied, moving back, yet gazing in 
 at the open door, with its revelation of bright light, 
 soft colors, and of an airy, beautiful figure with out- 
 spread wings, in a niche above the stairs, ready, it 
 seemed to the child, to float down upon them. 
 
 " Do come in a moment." 
 
 " No," Katey replied, coming back to realities ; 
 " mother does not allow us to go into people's houses 
 without knowing who they are." 
 
 " That's polite," whispered Jack. But fortunately 
 the boy had disappeared at the first word. 
 
 " What can he want us to wait for ? " interposed 
 Josic, anxious for peace. 
 
 " Perhaps he is going to bring us some ice-cream," 
 suggested Katey, whose imagination knew no bounds. 
 
 " I hope not," laughed Josie, wrapping her be- 
 numbed little hands in her cloak. 
 
 But before Katey had time for any further sugges-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 43 
 
 tions, her friend appeared with a handsome sled in his 
 arms. Jack's in its brightest days could never have 
 been like this. 
 
 " I want to give it to you," he said to Katey. " I 
 shall never use it again ; besides, I am going away." 
 He spoke in haste, as though she might interrupt him ; 
 but she only stared, standing motionless, the dark 
 eyes opened to their fullest extent. 
 
 Jack pulled her sleeve. " Why don't you say 
 something ? " 
 
 " 0, my ! " gasped Katey, thus reminded of pro- 
 prieties. 
 
 " Why don't you thank him ? " and again Jack 
 caught her sleeve. 
 
 " Jack," Katey exclaimed, finding her voice at 
 last, " she never will let me take it, I know. Don't 
 you remember the turtle ? " 
 
 Then followed some whispered reminiscences, which 
 the boy pretended not to notice. 
 
 " You see," Katey said, turning to him after a mo- 
 ment, " you might get well, and want it yourself." 
 
 " I am too old to use it now." 
 
 " But you might sell it," suggested the child, who 
 had lived in the midst of the strictest calculations as 
 to ways and means. "I should think," she added, 
 with grave deliberation, dropping her head upon one 
 side, as she had seen Chloe do, " I should think you 
 might get as much as twenty-five cents for it." 
 
 Jack laughed outright ; but her friend answered in 
 all seriousness, " I don't care to sell it. I have made 
 up my mind to give it away perhaps to a little girl 
 I know who has two already," he added, carelessly. 
 
 " 0, no ! "
 
 44 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 The boy smiled, deepening the light in the gray 
 eyes hid under a rather heavy brow. " Then perhaps 
 you will take it." 
 
 Katey looked at Jack, who was her moral thermom- 
 eter. " Mother won't care," he said ; " I'll tell her all 
 about it," 
 
 " Will you ? 0, you are the goodest Jack ! " ex- 
 claimed the child, in a burst of gratitude and delight. 
 " You see," she explained to the boy, " mother never 
 allows us to take anything from people we don't " 
 know anything about, she was going to say ; but here 
 Jack gave the little sleeve a twitch, abruptly ending 
 the sentence. 
 
 " What are you pulling me for, Jack ? " she said, 
 gravely ; " you know it is so." 
 
 But Jack had uttered a brief " good night," and 
 was already moving down the street. Katey took the 
 sled in her arms. " I suppose I shan't see you again," 
 said the boy, as she deposited it upon the snow, and 
 arranged the rope to her satisfaction. " I shall be off 
 so soon now." 
 
 " Will you ? Well, good by ! " and Katey turned 
 back to offer him one of the little cold hands ; " you 
 must take care of yourself," she added, primly. It 
 was always her mother's parting injunction, and 
 seemed to the child particularly appropriate now. 
 
 " I'll try to, certainly," replied her friend, laughing, 
 as the queer little figure ran off down the street, 
 disappearing at last in the darkness.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 45 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 
 
 THIS winter, of which we recount such trivial 
 events, was a memorable one in Boston. The 
 fugitive slave law had just been passed, shaking the 
 city as well as the whole nation to its founda- 
 tions. A few fearless men dared to denounce the act. 
 They were hissed and hooted at in the street ; they 
 were threatened with fire and sword ; they were 
 assailed in their own houses, and barely escaped with 
 their lives. From a refuge, Boston became a covert, 
 where frightened creatures hid in trembling inse- 
 curity. Then came the day when one was unearthed I 
 was seized, and chained, and marched down through 
 the streets in the centre of a squad of police, headed 
 and followed by the militia. 
 
 Hot excitement, bursting out at times, smouldered 
 throughout the length and breadth of the quiet city. 
 Men and women looked on.with flaming eyes and 
 white lips. Even the children, who are but convex 
 mirrors reflecting their elders in miniature, took it up. 
 The line which always divides human interests and 
 sympathies and warm hearts strengthened into a 
 chain in those days broken a dozen years later ; but 
 0, the breaking ! 
 
 Katey listened one day with clinched hands and
 
 46 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 bated breath to the story as told by a little curly- 
 headed girl to a group of awe-struck children huddled 
 together outside the gate at the close of school of 
 how her father was one of the Lancers called out to 
 guard this human chattel on its way back to slavery ; 
 how, like a man, he rebelled in his heart, and said he 
 would not go ; and how like a man, too, alas ! he 
 arrayed himself at last in the gay uniform, walked out 
 of the house in his clanking spurs, mounted his horse, 
 and rode away with the rest. Katey despised him 
 in her heart at that moment. Perhaps, years after, 
 looking back, if she remembered, she saw that 
 more than one man hesitated and yielded at that time 
 and later, not from cowardice, but from an honest 
 query in his mind, in rendering up his dues, as to 
 which wero Cassar's and which God's. We see through 
 different eyes. 
 
 " He had to go," said the child, closing her story. 
 
 " Why did he have to ? " dare Katey. 
 
 " You don't know anything about it, Katey Earle." 
 The child felt that a party had risen against her, 
 though only one had spoken aloud. " When you be- 
 long to things you have to go." 
 
 A hush followed these convincing words. Katey's 
 flashing eyes, staring at the narrator, only burned with 
 a fiercer fire. " Td stopjbdonging," she said, pushing 
 her way out of the group, and flying off down the 
 street, the rain and the hot tears wet on her face. 
 
 When she entered the house, she found, besides her 
 mother and Delphine, a visitor who had never ven- 
 tured into the parlor before. It was an old colored 
 woman, known as " Mammy," who for many years had 
 been a pensioner upon Madam Earle's slender bounty ;
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 47 
 
 for, though so reduced in circumstances, the family 
 had not jet denied itself the luxury of charity. 
 
 Mammy had been a slave, in her younger days, upon 
 a Virginia plantation ; but that was at a time so far 
 distant as to seem almost a dream. 
 
 " How old are you, Mammy?" Delphine had asked 
 once. 
 
 " I don'no, missy," was the reply. " But my Jake 
 wor ten year, when ole mar'sr say he's gwine up ter 
 town for t' see Mar'sr Washington made president." 
 
 "And did you go?" 
 
 " 0, no, chile ; " and Mammy shook her head sadly. 
 " De gran' folks went, wi 7 de hosses an' de 'kerriges. 
 We on'y blacked de boots what went." 
 
 Whether she had ever purchased her freedom, or 
 had ever, indeed, except by possession, won a lawful 
 right to herself, no one knew. Certainly she seemed 
 to feel no fear now, when others trembled. Her 
 husband had died in slavery. The only son left to 
 her from a large family had escaped to the North, and 
 afterwards purchased his freedom and that of his 
 family. But the bleak New England climate had 
 swept away one after another, the father himself at 
 last, leaving only one grandchild to Mammy. This 
 girl had married a runaway slave from Georgia, an 
 idle, improvident fellow, who, as years went on and a 
 dusky family gathered about him, succeeded only in 
 keeping a roof over their heads, and a leaky one at 
 that, by putting forth what were to him superhuman 
 exertions. He sawed wood occasionally so occasion- 
 ally that wood-sawing could hardly be termed his pro- 
 fession ; he went upon errands, but at such a pace that 
 the most hopeful heart despaired of their accomplish-
 
 48 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 merit ; and he cleared the sidewalks in winter before 
 two or three houses, where he was borne with for the 
 sake of poor old Mammy, upon whom really devolved 
 the support of the helpless family. Accumulated mis- 
 fortunes, which fall regardless of color, among which 
 lazy Ben reckoned his growing family and the " sca'ce- 
 ness " of work, had brought sickness to his wife 
 that fatal New England malady which seems the very 
 grinding of the eternal mills, so slow it is, but so ex- 
 ceeding sure in its result. 
 
 In summer's heat or winter's cold, then, Mammy 
 travelled from house to house among her patrons, sure 
 of a welcome and something to keep the wolf from 
 their shaky door, to fill the hungry mouths and cover 
 the little dusky backs which were hung over the 
 rickety fence in the summer sunshine or shivered 
 about the broken stove in winter. She was a marked 
 figure ; unusually tall, exceeding the stature of most 
 men, and extremely aged though she was, straight as 
 a grenadier. Her dress, neat as scant, was always of 
 some dingy black material, and sufficiently short to 
 display the men's boots in which her feet were en- 
 cased, years though it was before the introduction of 
 short dresses into polite society. Bound about her 
 head was a plaid cotton handkerchief in the form of a 
 turban, and perched upon the apex of this, a diminu- 
 tive Quaker bonnet, tilted at an angle which no Quaker 
 bonnet before or since ever attempted, but which was 
 after a time exchanged in winter for a warm black 
 hood, over the construction of which Katey's fingers 
 shed tears of blood. 
 
 She dragged after her always a little wooden cart, 
 such as children use in play. It had more than its
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 49 
 
 duo proportion of rattle, and thereby effectually an- 
 nounced her approach. A certain regularity marked 
 the time of her visits : which might have been com- 
 puted, not directly, but as sure to follow other events 
 much, in fact, as one reckons the approach of 
 Lent, only that in Mammy's case Ben's variations, 
 rather than the moon's, were to be taken into consider- 
 ation ; and however it might have been at other 
 houses, a cordial welcome and a cup of tea always 
 awaited her at Madam Earle's, with a chair close by 
 the kitchen fire. 
 
 She never begged. Why should she ? Her friends 
 knew her sore need. But she received the parcel of 
 clothes or food, or both, made up in anticipation of her 
 coming, with fervent thanks and blessings blessings 
 upon the donor, but thanks only to the Lord, who held 
 the fullness of the earth in his hand, and from whom 
 came every gift. Indeed, his name was seldom absent 
 from her lips, and it seemed almost as though her poor 
 body had been forgotten here, while her spirit had 
 taken up its abode already in heavenly habitations. 
 
 Her manners were quaint, and belonged to a past 
 generation. She rapped at the door, then entered 
 without waiting for a response, advancing in a series 
 of exceedingly low courtesies or dips executed with 
 the utmost rigidity partly, no doubt, from old- 
 fashioned precision, and quite as much, perhaps, from 
 the rheumatism, with which she was afflicted. This 
 salutation, performed as it was with all the solemnity 
 of a religious observance and in the extremely short 
 gown, excited Delphine's scarcely concealed smiles ; 
 but to Katey, who gazed upon it from a safe distance, 
 it brought only delightful visions of that old Virginia 
 4
 
 50 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 home of which Mammy spoke sometimes of the gay 
 gallants and beautiful ladies from whom these obsolete 
 " manners " had been copied. And when, upon going 
 away, she worked herself out of the room by a series 
 of backward courtesies still more surprising, it was 
 like nothing less than a presentation at court ! Still, 
 the grave doubt as to results which necessarily at- 
 tend all backward movements, marred the full enjoy- 
 ment of this scene, and the child always experienced 
 a sensation of relief when the door closed at last upon 
 the tall form. 
 
 As Katey crept into the warm, bright room, dazzled 
 by the light after the darkness outside, this strange 
 figure rose from where it had been sitting upon the 
 edge of one of the high-backed chairs, and dropped a 
 couple of respectful courtesies in silence. 
 
 " This is bad, very bad," Madam Earle was saying. 
 " You think, then, they are looking for him ? " 
 
 The little red hands stretched out before the fire 
 fell into Katey's lap as she turned to listen. 
 
 " Yes, missis ; Ben seen his ole mars' r for shore dis 
 mornin' ; " and Mammy polished with an old colored 
 handkerchief one dusky cheek, upon which a tear had 
 fallen. 
 
 " Where is Ben ? " 
 
 " I don'no ; but he'll be aroun' home soon, I s'pect. 
 De Lor' hab mercy on his 'flicted people ! " she added, 
 with a groan, swaying her body back and forth as 
 though in pain. 
 
 " What is he going to do ? " 
 
 " I don'no, missis, I don'no. Lor', mighty ter sabe, 
 come down an' help dis yere poor chile ! " she mut- 
 tered, still swaying upon her chair.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. . 51 
 
 " Of course he will try to hide," Madam Earlo 
 went on. 
 
 " Whar'U he hide ? " returned Mammy. " De very 
 groun' gib up de dead, deso days." 
 
 " Or slip away and escape to Canada," pursued 
 Madam Earle, thoughtfully. 
 
 Mammy ceased to wipe her eyes. " Pears like he 
 might try ; " then despair seized upon her. " But - - 
 Lor' ! Phar'oh's hos' follow close behin'." 
 
 Delphine, from her corner, had been listening breath- 
 lessly to this conversation. She started up now, hot 
 and angry. " I wish I were a man ! " 
 
 " Hush, Delphine," said her mother, in a low voice. 
 
 But Mammy had caught the words. She paused in 
 her wailing. " Wha' for you wish you wor a man for, 
 missy?" Her figure stretched itself suddenly up- 
 right ; the old black hood fell from her head ; she 
 raised her long, skinny finger. " Hark ! hear de swif 
 feet dat run ; hear de bayin' ob the houn's ; hear de 
 wailin' ob de women ; hear de chil'n cry ; dat ar's 
 man's work, missy." 
 
 " mother, mother ! can't you do anything ? " sobbed 
 Delphine, while Katey sat white and speechless, shiv- 
 ering with excitement. 
 
 Was it chance made the mother at that moment 
 raise her eyes to the portrait hanging in its tarnished 
 frame over the fireplace ? It was the portrait of her 
 grandfather, who had been a mighty man in the colo- 
 nies before they rebelled. Later, he sacrificed friends, 
 property, and almost life itself, in the cause of his king. 
 He went down to his grave, at last, poor, despised, 
 covered with obloquy, for having maintained, through 
 evil as well as good report, his fidelity to the powers
 
 52 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 which he honestly believed should govern the land. 
 There was something in the stern, straight-forward 
 glance of the eyes from under the overhanging brows 
 of the old Tory, something in the squareness of the 
 lower part of the face, which had come down to and 
 set their mark upon the softer countenance of the 
 woman. She turned to Delphine. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " the law may often seem un- 
 just ; it may entail sorrow and suffering upon the few : 
 but it is for the many, and it must be maintained. 
 We are forbidden to harbor or assist the fugitives ; 
 but we can help Mammy. We can do no more." She 
 drew Delphine down and kissed her. " Now run 
 away to bed, you and Katey. I must see what can be 
 done." 
 
 But this did not satisfy warm-hearted, impulsive 
 Delphine. She caught Mammy's two hands in her 
 own as the tall figure rose from its seat. " 0, if I only 
 could do something ! " she said. Shiftless Ben had 
 suddenly become an object worthy of any sacrifice. 
 
 " Bress ye, bress ye, chile," Mammy responded ; but 
 her tears fell. Her heart had grown heavy under 
 Madam Earle 's words. Katey stole out of the room 
 with a shy little bow in response to Mammy's dejected 
 courtesy. She was pondering all this in her heart. 
 
 There was a deep silence for a few moments after 
 their departure, broken only by Mammy's ejaculations 
 under her breath. Then Madam Earle spoke. " It 
 must be very hard for you now that Ben can do 
 nothing. What are you most in need of? " 
 
 " Delibberance," groaned Mammy. " Delibberance 
 from dis yere wicked woiT ! " 
 
 Madam Earle made no response to this reply ; she
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 53 
 
 only leaned thoughtfully upon her hand for a moment, 
 then, bending forward, pulled the faded bell-cord hang- 
 ing by the fireplace. 
 
 The door opened, and Chloe's dusky face appeared. 
 " Go to the attic, Chloe, and bring me that old camlet 
 cloak you will find hanging there." Chloe disap- 
 peared. " You have not come to me for advice, 
 Mammy," Madam Earle went on, when the door had 
 closed after the girl. " You know, of course, that Ben 
 must get away as soon as possible this very night 
 if he can." 
 
 " I done come for nuffin, missis," returned Mammy, 
 who was entirely disheartened in her attempt to se- 
 cure human aid. " I done come for nuffin, an' I 
 'spects I'm not gwine to be dis'pinted. Lor' ! " she 
 murmured, " soften de hard hearts ! " 
 
 " Yes, that is it," for Chloe had entered the room 
 again, bearing the cloak on her arm. " Now cut some 
 slices of bread and the ham which was left from dinner 
 as quickly as possible, and don't be sparing of either. 
 Wrap them in a stout paper, and bring them to me." 
 
 She crossed the room to the old mahogany escritoire 
 in one corner, and, opening it, took out a roll of bank 
 bills. It was by no means large, and she uttered a 
 sigh as she turned it over, carefully selecting one. 
 Then drawing a chair, she took up a pen, hesitating a 
 moment before beginning to write, and smiling to her- 
 self when the pen ran swiftly over the paper. " There, 
 Mammy," she said, as she put the money into the old 
 woman's hands. " I cannot give you more now, and 
 the cloak is faded, I know, but it is warm, and, worn 
 well about the face, would hide one's countenance." 
 
 " Bress ye, honey," responded Mammy, but without
 
 54 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 emotion. It was not for money nor clothes she had 
 come, and she failed to catch the significance of Madam 
 Earle's last words. " Tank de Lor' for his gifts," she 
 added, piously. 
 
 " And I have written a note," Madam Earle went 
 on, an odd smile upon her face. " I want Ben to de- 
 liver it for me, and to-night if he can." Still she 
 smiled strangely. " Wait ; I will read it." She opened 
 the paper upon which she had just written a few lines, 
 and read, 
 
 " ' Will Jason Miles please send the apples engaged 
 of him without further delay ? 
 
 And oblige 
 
 MAESYLVIA EARLE.' 
 
 You know Jason Miles ? " 
 
 But Mammy, holding the old cloak across her knees 
 rocked slowly back and forth, shaking her head. What 
 were Jason Miles and his apples to her at such a time 
 as this ? She was disappointed and grieved. She had 
 asked for bread, and received a stone. 
 
 But still Madam Earle persisted : " You must know 
 him, Mammy j he is the good old Quaker out upon the 
 Dorchester turnpike who is said to have helped so 
 many slaves on to Canada." 
 
 Mammy fell in a grotesque heap at her feet as the 
 light broke upon her at last. " Lor'," she prayed, 
 laughing and crying in a breath, " how I'se doubted 
 ye ! how I'se said wha' for de chariot so long a comin' 
 for ? when it's jes' here, jes' here dis minit. Lor' ! 
 Look at dat now ; not let de lef han' know what de 
 right han' doin' ; " and she chuckled and laughed, 
 upon her knees though she was. " Bress dis ere
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 55 
 
 chile, and make her to shine like de stars in glory. 
 Lor' But Madam Earle checked her, as Chloe's 
 step was heard approaching. She assisted her to her 
 feet, and, finally, with her own hands, let her out at the 
 door, not daring to trust her to Chloe, whose zeal in the 
 cause would have more than equalled her discretion. 
 Mammy continued to utter her prayer, however, and 
 to call down blessings upon the family, as she passed 
 through the hall, in a series of wonderful courtesies 
 extending even to the front gate.
 
 56 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 KATEY ACTS THE PART OF A DELIVERER. 
 
 KATEY awoke the next morning with a weight 
 upon her spirits. Something had happened. 
 What was it? Gradually, as the light struggled in 
 between the heavy, half- closed shutters, the scene of 
 the evening before returned to her mind. Where was 
 Ben ? Had they found him ? Had they caught him ? 
 She sprang out of bed, and began to dress hurriedly ; 
 but soon her excitement and anxiety died away. She 
 had reasoned it out in her odd little mind. Things 
 happened, dreadful things ; but always to people ever 
 so far off, whom one did not know. Nothing could 
 have .harmed Ben. He was a part of the prosaic 
 every- day life which held no elements of tragedy. 
 So ah 1 her fears faded away, and happier thoughts took 
 their place. She would hasten down and try the new 
 sled, about which she had as yet found no opportunity 
 to speak to her mother. Jack had descended half an 
 hour before, sounding a reveille upon her door as he 
 passed. The winter sun had not yet dispelled the 
 shadows which filled the dim old hall and dusky stair- 
 way as she ran after him. Chloe's ringing voice, with 
 its odd intonation, came from some distant region in a 
 wailing song : 
 
 ' ' I earn' stay behin', O Lor' : 
 I earn' stay behin'."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 57 
 
 Katey had heard it often before, and the words fol- 
 lowed the chant through her head as she tied on the 
 little red hood and ran out at the door, shutting it 
 heavily after her. Jack should be just outside. But 
 she peered into the darkness in vain. Slowly the 
 chill, heavy shadows were lifting as she went on up 
 the street. She turned the corner, and the grim form 
 of the old brick church rose like a huge misshapen 
 figure before her, every angle and recess filled with 
 mysterious darkness. Suddenly, close down at its base, 
 where the sharp walls jutted out, the shadows ap- 
 peared to move to gather themselves into a figure. 
 Katey stood still and gazed at it fearfully. The 
 houses the length of the street were silent and dark, 
 the street lamps still burned, but with a faint yellow 
 light. Away in the distance the old city awoke, and 
 turned itself with a sleepy sigh. But here no sound 
 broke the stillness, not even a passing foot awoke the 
 echoes. While she stared, undecided whether to fly 
 past and go on in pursuit of Jack, or retrace her steps, 
 a crouching figure shambled out of the darkness, and 
 approached her. It was wrapped in an old cloak, and 
 turned its head from side to side, as if to listen, as it 
 drew near. 
 
 " Lor', Missy Kate, dat you ? " 
 
 " Why, Ben ! " ejaculated Katey, her heart giving 
 a great leap, and almost escaping from her parted lips. 
 So it was true, after all, and the dreadful things which 
 happened to people a long way off, had for once really 
 come near. 
 
 " Yes, missy ; dat me, for shore," Ben replied, in a 
 tone which seemed to imply that he wished it had 
 been almost any one else at this moment.
 
 58 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " 0, why don't you run, then," cried Katey, all her 
 fears awakened for the sorry figure before her. 
 
 " Whar' ever '11 I run to, missy, now, in de day- 
 light?" whined Ben. And even as he spoke the 
 darkness seemed to vanish from around them. Katey 
 could distinguish forms far down the street, and, to 
 her terror, steps drew near. " Lor', Missy Kate ! 
 what'll I do ? Don' le' um gi' me ; " and shaking with 
 terror, Ben retreated to his hiding-place again. The 
 steps drew near and passed by. It was only some 
 laborer, with shovel and pick over his shoulder, who 
 did not heed the child with a white, frightened face, 
 standing, with skirts outspread, in an odd, fantastic 
 attitude, before the angle of the wall. 
 
 " But why didn't you go when it was dark ? " 
 Katey asked, hurriedly, when she dared breathe 
 again. 
 
 " 'Cos I didn't know nuffin' 'bout de note, nor de 
 perwisions nor nuffin', till mos' mornin', when I shied 
 roun' to de house. 'Twor too late den, ye know." 
 In his usual luckless, shiftless way he had let the 
 golden moment slip by. 
 
 " What note ? " His words were a maze to Katey. 
 
 " Why, de note yer Maum Earlo gib Mammy las' 
 night." 
 
 Truthfulness had never been one of Ben's char- 
 acteristics, and the child disbelieved the whole story. 
 Her mother had sent him no note, she was sure, and 
 something like contempt arose in her mind, almost 
 overcoming the pity she had felt for him. 
 
 " I wor gwine down dar now to tell yer maum." 
 
 " 0, but, Ben, she won't help you." Katey forgot 
 everything again in his danger. " You must go home ; 
 don't stay here. See how light it is now/'
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 59 
 
 " I earn' go home, missy ; " and Ben leaned against 
 the iron railing with a kind of dull resolution. " Ole 
 mars'r down dere dis minute, mos' like ; an' de pleece- 
 men ! Golly ! Missy Kate, de pleecemen jus' standin' 
 round dat ar street, tree deep, I s'pose." Frightened 
 as he was, Ben could not let the opportunity to dwell 
 upon his suddenly acquired value pass unnoticed. 
 
 The faint grayness which still lingered in the at- 
 mosphere was fast melting away. Already the light 
 had pierced Ben's corner, revealing a figure the 
 strangeness of which would attract the attention of 
 the first passer. Something must be done, and at 
 once. To leave Ben to accomplish his own deliver- 
 ance did not occur to the child. Certain schemes of 
 the night before suggested themselves to her mind. 
 " Come home with me," she said ; " I'll hide you. 
 Only when it is dark again you must go away." 
 
 " Yes, missy," Ben replied, meekly. He had not the 
 faintest conception of what the child proposed to do ; 
 nor did it occur to him to inquire. It was enough 
 that some one had assumed the responsibility of caring 
 for him. 
 
 Katey started off down the street upon a run, Ben 
 shuffling more slowly after her. One ambitious milk- 
 wagon awoke the echoes of the street as she neared 
 the great gate. Dacre Home lounged down the steps 
 over the way, touching his cap half-mockingly as the 
 cTiild darted into the yard, and waited breathlessly for 
 Ben to come up. She glanced fearfully towards the 
 parlor windows ; but the curtains were still drawn. 
 She had not realized how her flying feet had out- 
 stripped Ben's slower movements. Would he never 
 come ? And now, while she waited, the momentary
 
 60 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 excitement under which she had offered to assist him 
 died away, and her heart grew heavy with forebod- 
 ings. She knew fall well the penalty for harboring 
 a fugitive. The children playing in the street had 
 talked of it ; a thousand dollars fine, and imprison- 
 ment for not less than a year. A thousand dollars ! 
 She could never hope to pay that ; so she would suffer 
 longer in prison, doubtless ; and a strange chill crept 
 over her with the thought. Down upon a narrow, 
 crooked street, not far away, which the children gained 
 by darting through a dark alley of fearful repute, stood 
 an old jail, gray and grim a terror and a fascination. 
 Katey shuddered at the recollection of the grated 
 windows. Clinging to those dreadful bars, should 
 she stare out upon the street some day ? For a mo- 
 ment she wavered. Ben had crept in after her, and 
 stood waiting, shrinking back against the high, black 
 fence. She had weighed him with the instinct of 
 childhood, and found him wanting. Only this moment 
 she believed he had deceived her, and yet she could 
 not turn him away. "Wait a minute," she said, 
 swallowing a little sobbing sigh with which she put 
 down the last of the temptations which rose within 
 her to leave Ben to his fate. She stole softly up the 
 high steps, and opened the heavy door carefully, then 
 paused to listen. The house was still, save for 
 Chloe's wild chant. The song had changed : 
 
 " He bore our sins upon de tree." 
 
 The voice rose and died away ; but it had awakened 
 an echo in the child's heart. The significance of the 
 words did not enter her head, but the little heart was 
 lightened as she stepped back and beckoned to Ben.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 61 
 
 Not a word did she speak as he removed his shoes, 
 and, taking them in his hand, followed her noiselessly 
 into the hall, and up the wide stairs to the square 
 landing where they ended. Here was a high window, 
 with the wide, old-fashioned window-seat half screened 
 by heavy, faded hangings, and on either side doors, 
 closed now, one of which Katey passed breathlessly, 
 and, turning around the. stair-rail, pushed open a 
 narrower door, opening into a small, dark hall. There 
 was scarcely light enough here to reveal the winding, 
 almost upright stairs leading to the attic rooms. Only 
 one of these was furnished now "that which the old 
 actress had rented for a time. And though the high- 
 posted bedstead, with its flowered chintz curtains, still 
 remained, with the brass-mounted chest of drawers and 
 queer old spider-legged dressing-table, the room had 
 been long since given over to the dust and mystery 
 of disuse. Katey ran up the stairs and opened the 
 door with a certain sense of awe, treading lightly, 
 as though fearful of arousing the spirit of the place ; 
 but Ben, conscious only of his happy escape, followed 
 with assurance, chuckling to himself and cracking his 
 finger-joints as he peeped between the red curtains, 
 and convinced himself that the room had been long 
 unoccupied. " Gorry, Missy Kate," he ejaculated, 
 performing a kind of noiseless plantation dance about 
 the child ; " ole mars'r'll nebber fine Ben in dis yere 
 place." 
 
 " Wait a minute," Katey replied. She led the way 
 to the farther side of the bed, where was a low door 
 in the partition, so low that even a child could not pass 
 through without stooping. Ben dropped upon his 
 knees and followed her as she disappeared, finding
 
 62 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 himself in an unfinished garret, to which this low 
 door seemed to be the only entrance. The place was 
 full of great beams and rafters, and dim with shadows. 
 But for the light through the open doorway and the 
 rays of the morning sun struggling with the cobwebs 
 at the little dust-begrimed window at one end, utter 
 darkness would have reigned. A few discarded gar- 
 ments hung from hooks in the rafters, and a bundle of 
 herbs under the eaves mingled its odors with the 
 blose, musty air of the place. 
 
 " Isn't it nice ? " said Katey from a corner, her head 
 in a cobweb. 
 
 " Gorry ! " was Ben's sole response. He was quite 
 overcome by this now development of resources. 
 
 " Now I must go down," said Katey. " It is break- 
 fast time. I'll have to shut the door and push the bed 
 up before it." 
 
 " Lor', missy, don' do dat ar," gasped Ben, all 
 his fears aroused by the thought of being thus en- 
 trapped. 
 
 " I must," Katey replied. " Then no one can see 
 the door ; but I'll come and let you out to-night when 
 it is dark." 
 
 " But what if de pleecemen come nosin' roun' ? " 
 Terrors were crowding thick upon Ben now. " Ye'd 
 say ye didn't know nuffin' bout dis nigger dese tree 
 year ; wouldn' ye ? " he pleaded. 
 
 " But I do know," Katey answered with eyes 
 opened wide. 
 
 " Lor', Missy Kate ! are you gwine to tell o' pore 
 Ben ? " He fell on his knees and clutched at her gown. 
 
 " Why, of course I'm not going to tell ! " and 
 Katey's astonishment increased still more.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 63 
 
 " But what if dey come sudden like ? What if dey 
 s'prise ye ? " he asked, doubtfully. 
 
 A vision of the Leverett Street Jail, of the Black 
 Maria, rose before her ; but she could not go back now. 
 " I never shall tell," she repeated. 
 
 " But s'pose dey ask ye all manner o' cur'us ques- 
 tions to ketch ye? Swar, Missy Kate, say, /By Gor 
 A'mighty I nebber tell nobody ; bout dis nigger.' " 
 
 But Katey drew back horrified at the proposition. 
 
 " I can't do that," she said, stepping through the 
 little doorway. Then she stooped so that the earnest 
 face, with its great dark eyes and its cloud of heavy 
 hair, were framed for a moment. 
 
 " Don't be afraid," she said ; " I never shall tell ; " 
 and then she closed the door. 
 
 It was a more difficult matter to move the heavy 
 bed. One or two attempts were vain ; but finally 
 putting forth all her strength, it started and rolled 
 heavily over the floor, and was pushed against the 
 door. She viewed it on every side. The entrance to 
 Ben's retreat was quite hidden ; and now she ran as 
 softly and quickly as possible down the stairs. 
 
 The family were already seated at the breakfast 
 table, and Chloe was bringing in the coffee-urn when 
 she appeared. 
 
 " Pow'ful shower comin, missis," said Chloe, setting 
 down the urn. " I hear do funder roll awful jus' now." 
 
 " Thunder," shouted Jack, " in winter, and hardly 
 a cloud in the sky ! " 
 
 " Don' care, Massa Jack," continued Chloe, who, 
 having been long in the family, felt privileged to ex- 
 press her mind when and where she chose. " I hear 
 it roll arid rumble roun' jus' now."
 
 64 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Katey hid her flaming cheeks in her plate ; but no 
 one heeded her, and Chloe left the room, followed by 
 Jack's mocking laugh. 
 
 " I did hear something," said Madam Earle, checking 
 him. " It must have been rats, I think."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ALMOST A MARTYR. 
 
 prediction proved true in so far that a 
 \J drizzling rain set in towards night, bringing the 
 winter twilight earlier than usual. All day Katey had 
 been tormented by fears in regard to Ben. What if 
 her mother should chance to make one of her rare visits 
 to the attic rooms, and Ben, thinking it herself, should 
 call out ? What if the " pleecemen," of whom he 
 stood in such terror, should track him to the house in 
 her absence ? If she were only there she might per- 
 haps prevent the discovery of his hiding-place, or warn 
 him to escape. 
 
 At noon she ran all the way home, and as soon as 
 she found an opportunity flew to the top of the house. 
 Everything was undisturbed, however ; the bed still 
 occupied the place before the little door, and, leaning 
 her head against the partition, no sound came from 
 Ben's retreat. Perhaps he slept after his wakeful, 
 wandering night ; and somewhat relieved of her anx- 
 iety, the child crept noiselessly down again. 
 
 At night, less impatient, but more heavy-hearted un- 
 der her weight of care, she plodded home in the rain, 
 full of forebodings as to Ben's exit from the house. 
 How could she ever accomplish it ? She carried her 
 drenched cloak to the kitchen, and lingered over the 
 5
 
 66 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 fire, warming her chilled fingers, while Chloe moved 
 heavily back and forth, preparing the tea. 0, if she 
 dared tell ! It would be so easy for Chloe to push the 
 bed away, pilot Ben down the kitchen stairs, and let 
 him out at the back gate ! As the wet, cheerless night 
 settled in, and the time drew near when she must act, 
 all her courage died away. The burden she had taken 
 up seemed greater than she could bear. Chloe paused 
 before the little drooping figure cowering over the fire. 
 " What ails ye, honey ? Ye don't seem peart like as 
 common." 
 
 Katey started up at that. Did her face tell her se- 
 cret ? 
 
 " 0, nothing," she answered, confusedly, as she left 
 the room. 
 
 No, she could not tell Chloe, who would cry out and 
 startle the family, most likely ; and what might not her 
 mother believe it her duty to do with Ben ! A thought 
 of Jack, her refuge in all times of trouble, of Jack 
 fruitful in expedients, did cross her mind as she en- 
 tered the parlor, where the heavy curtains were already 
 drawn, and a soft, pleasant light and warmth filled the 
 room. Her mother sat before the escritoire, writing. 
 Neither Delphine nor Jack was there. But it did not 
 matter ; she could not confide her secret to Jack, even. 
 O, to think of Jack borne away in the Black Maria ! 
 the dreadful jail wagon which rattled about the streets 
 to the intense horror of the children, who huddled close 
 to the houses, shrinking, yet stariug, as it passed. 
 They might perhaps take her, but not Jack ! 
 
 She stood just within the door, hesitating, held back 
 by her fears, yet knowing that she must go now, at this 
 moment, and release her prisoner. She had worked
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 67 
 
 herself into so excited and feverish a state that she 
 could hardly keep from crying out. She was afraid 
 of the darkness through which she must pass to reach 
 him ; her little arms were weak and trembling : could 
 she ever make the heavy bed roll back? She must 
 ask Chloe for a light. She shivered as she turned 
 again to the kitchen, thinking of the unused, ghostly 
 rooms above, the dark passage, and the narrow, winding 
 stairs which she must mount alone. At that moment 
 a heavy, resounding rap from the knocker upon the 
 outer door echoed through the house. Another fol- 
 lowed, as Chloe, never very swift in her movements, 
 lingered before answering the summons. 
 
 " What is that ? " There was something so peremp- 
 tory in the call that Madam Earle laid down her pen 
 and rose from her chair, behind which Katey fled in- 
 stinctively. A loud, coarse voice was heard in excited 
 colloquy with Chloe ; then the parlor door was flung 
 open, and the girl appeared, the hue of her dusky 
 cheeks deepened, her head thrown back, and her eyes 
 a blaze of light. She rested her hands upon her hips 
 as she stood in the doorway, and looked back and forth 
 from an invisible figure in the hall to her mistress. 
 
 " Look a he-ah, missis," she said in an excited tone ; 
 " dis 'ere man say he come for Ben ! I tell him we 
 don'no nuffin' 'bout dat ar lazy nigger." 
 
 Madam Earle stepped forward as a short, stout figure, 
 surmounted by a coarse, swarthy face, appeared at the 
 girl's elbow. " Chloe," she said, as the man entered 
 the room, " hand a chair to the gentleman." 
 
 " 'Clar' to goodness, missis, I earn' ban' no cha'rs to 
 such trash," responded Chloe, mutinous for the first 
 time in a long and faithful servitude. She tossed her
 
 68 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 head with a contemptuous snort, pressing her hands 
 like a vice upon her sides. 
 
 Madam Earle set out a chair without speaking. 
 
 " Thankee, ma'am ; but I reckon I'll stand whar I 
 can see the door," replied the man, with an ugly leer. 
 
 " To what am I indebted for this visit ? " asked 
 Madam Earle, coldly. But even before she spoke he 
 had begun a fumbling search in various pockets. He 
 produced now a folded paper, which he tapped with a 
 very dirty forefinger. 
 
 " I've got an officer out yere, ma'am," he said, " and 
 this is a 'ficial document, a warrant, in fact, for the 
 apprehension of a nigger calling himself Ben, and said 
 to be in this house at this moment." 
 
 " Ain't no such nigger he'ah," broke in Chloe, de- 
 fiantly. 
 
 " Sof'ly, gal, sof'ly," returned the man. " Your turn 
 next, perhaps ; " and again he winked, as though a 
 one-sided spasm contracted his face. " He was seen 
 coming into the yard early this morning," he ex- 
 plained, as he replaced the paper carefully in his 
 breast pocket. 
 
 There was a faint sound, as of an exclamation sup- 
 pressed, from the corner where Katey was hidden, but 
 no one noticed it. Madam Earle, with a pale but com- 
 posed face, stood quietly regarding the man, her hands 
 resting upon the back of the chair she had offered him. 
 Could it be true? she thought. Could Chloe have 
 taken him in? But no; she herself had sent him in 
 another direction the night before. He must be miles 
 away on his northward journey by this time. 
 
 " I swar to goodness," added Chloe, " dat ar boy ain't 
 been yere dese tree weeks. Some un's lied to ye."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 69 
 
 " Sof'ly, sof 'ly," said the man. " Tears to me you 
 look amazin' like a gal that run away from Columbus 
 County ten year or so ago. I've got it writ down some- 
 where. But one at a time." 
 
 " I's born free. Ye earn' touch me," returned 
 Chloe, indignantly ; but she shrank back and was 
 silent, nevertheless, as the intruder stepped to the door 
 and called to a couple of policemen waiting outside. 
 " One of you stand here and look right sharp while 
 the other goes through the house with me. You're 
 sure Bill is at the back gate ? ; ' 
 
 Madam Earle expostulated. " This certainly is un- 
 necessary. I give you my word, my oath if you re- 
 quire it, that Ben is not in the house nor upon the 
 premises." 
 
 The man only regarded her with an insulting smile 
 of incredulity. " Seein's believing, ma'am. You 
 might be mistaken, you know ; " and again that awful 
 facial contortion, intended for a wink. " Come, gal," 
 to Chloe, as he produced a dark lantern, " show us 
 about the house." 
 
 Chloe looked towards her mistress, but did not move. 
 
 " Either you must go or I," Madam Earle said to her. 
 " I suppose we are obliged to submit to this." 
 
 " You're right, ma'am," returned the man, whose 
 spirits seemed to rise each moment. . " And amazin' 
 wise, too. There's nothin' like resignation, / say. 
 I ; ve been a local preacher, myself, for a dozen years or 
 so, and if there's any one doctrine above another I've 
 felt called upon to expound, it's that of Christian resig- 
 nation. When ye can't hold out nohow, sez I, give in. 
 That's my idea of it. Now, ma'am," and he rubbed 
 his hands briskly, " what's below this floor ? "
 
 70 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Only the unused kitchens and cellars." 
 
 " That's it. We'll take a look at 'em. Step lively, 
 gal." And Chloe led the way from the room. Madam 
 Earle and Katey were left alone. Now was Katey's 
 time. Trembling and faint she crept into the hall. 
 The officer on guard at the open door had turned his 
 back to the house, and stood whistling softly to him- 
 self as she slipped out and mounted the stairs, her feet 
 heavy as though shod with iron. But the upper hall 
 once gained, sure that no eye could see her, she flew 
 to the attic chamber, falling against the bed in her 
 haste and in the bewildering darkness, which held for 
 the moment no terrors, since other and greater had 
 seized her. Creeping under the chintz valance, she 
 felt with her hands for the low door ; then, putting her 
 lips to the crack, she called, in a shrill whisper, " Ben ! 
 Ben!" 
 
 There was no response. 
 
 " 0, Ben ! " she called again, striking her knuckles 
 fearfully upon the panel. Doors were being opened 
 and shut below, she fancied, and to her excited imagi- 
 nation there was even a step upon the stairs. 
 
 " Yah, Missy Kate," a cautious voice responded now. 
 There was a sound as of some one rising stumbling- 
 ly, and moving towards her. " I's ready. Ope de 
 door." 
 
 " 0, Ben," and there were terror and agony in the 
 whisper, " they've come ! " 
 
 " Who come ? " Katey could hear his loud breath- 
 ing close to her face. 
 
 " The men, for you 1 " 
 
 " Gor A'mighty ! le' me out, le' me out o' dis yere, 
 quick."
 
 A HAND GRASPED HER ARM AND PULLED UER FORWARD. Page 71.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 71 
 
 " I can't. They'd hear the bed roll. They're down 
 stairs now. 0, Ben, keep still ; they're coming up ; " 
 and, too terrified to escape, the child clutched the bed 
 hangings and hid her face. 
 
 It was a false alarm, however. She could presently 
 hear voices in the rooms below, but no one mounted 
 the stairs. She pressed her little pale face once more 
 close to the crack. "'Ben," she whispered, " don't be 
 afraid! J never shall tell!" Then she crept 
 from under the bed, felt her way out of the room and 
 down the stairs. 
 
 She had reached the little door giving entrance to 
 the upper front hall, when it was suddenly flung open 
 in her face ; a dazzling light fell upon her, a hand 
 grasped her arm and pulled her forward, while a harsh 
 voice exclaimed, " Ha ! -what's this ? What ye doing 
 up yere ? Ain't this the little gal I see down stairs ? 
 Speak up, now, what ye doing up yere ? " 
 
 The little dark figure, with its frightened face, 
 rested motionless in the hands of its captors. Not a 
 word fell from the close-shut mouth. 
 
 " De chile done scart to def," said Chloe. " Run 
 down to your maum, honey." 
 
 " You speak when you're spoken to ; " and the man 
 pushed Chloe aside roughly. " Come, child, whar'vo 
 they hid this nigger ? " 
 
 The awful moment had come. But the vision of the 
 j:iil, of the Black Maria, of Ben in his retreat pleading 
 for her silence, all faded away. She was conscious 
 only of a strange whirr in her ears, as, with the great 
 dark eyes fixed upon his, she stared at her inquisitor, 
 fascinated, but speechless. 
 
 His heavy hand fell upon her shoulder. Chloe sprang 
 forward. " Don' ye dar' touch dat chile ! "
 
 72 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " The girl is right," said the officer, coming up. 
 " You must not lay your hands upon the child." 
 
 " Come along, then," said the man, preparing to 
 mount the narrow stairs. "She came down here." 
 Katey, daring neither to follow nor to return to her 
 mother in this moment of suspense, too frightened, in- 
 deed, to move from where they had left her, heard a 
 sharply-uttered expletive as some one tripped over 
 the last step, then, " Hark ! What's that ?" from the 
 rough voice. 
 
 " Dat's de rats, gemmen," Chloe explained. " Better 
 look up de chimley," she suggested, contemptuously, 
 when the light had been thrown into every corner of 
 the empty rooms, revealing only long-fallen dust and 
 festooning cobwebs. 
 
 They entered the chamber through which the child 
 and Ben had passed, making an unavailing search 
 here as elsewhere. Chloe was too much engrossed to 
 notice the change in the position of the bed. " Be you 
 gemmen gwine up yere ? " she asked, standing under 
 the skylight, to which a short flight of stairs led. " Dat 
 nigger hangin' by his eyelids from de roof mos' like,"* 
 she added, with a laugh, saucy and confident, now 
 that the search was so nearly concluded. The man, 
 however, paid no attention to the words. He was 
 walking back and forth, measuring the ceiling and 
 partition with his eye. Suddenly he laid his hand 
 upon the wall behind which Ben was hidden. " What's 
 in here ? " he questioned, suspiciously ; " the front room 
 don't come back to this." 
 
 Chloe, who began to feel impatient over his unwill- 
 ingness to be convinced, turned again to the front 
 chamber with an angry toss of the head. " Who's
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 73 
 
 been yere ? " she muttered below her breath, noticing 
 for the first time that the bed had been moved. Her 
 mistress, most likely. She touched it with her strong 
 hand, and it rolled back with a heavy, rumbling sound, 
 revealing the door. 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed the man ; " now, gal, open the 
 door, and go in first with the light. We'll follow. This 
 begins to look like it." 
 
 " Look jus' like it," returned Chloe, opening it with- 
 out the least hesitation ; " as if de nigger done got in 
 yere, shet de door, and pull up de bed ! " 
 
 The little door flew back against the partition ; the 
 light, scattering the darkness within, revealed what ? 
 Only dust and cobwebs, and the discarded garments 
 hanging from the rafters ; nothing more. Chloe waved 
 her lantern so that the glare should illumine every 
 corner. But why did her eyes almost start from their, 
 sockets, while her teeth fairly chattered in her head ? 
 As she stooped to pick up a garment which had appar- 
 ently fallen from its nail, she recognized in it the old 
 camlet cloak which she had carried to the parlor the 
 night before, and which she had learned afterwards 
 from Mammy had been given to Ben. She could not 
 be mistaken ; it was the same, she knew. How came 
 it there ? Where was Ben ? She glanced about fear- 
 fully, half expecting to see the shambling form emer- 
 ging from the shadows. The men were examining the 
 window. It was fastened upon the inside. Her pres- 
 ence of mind did not desert her. She shook out the 
 cloak carelessly, and hung it up with the rest, then led 
 the way in silence to the outer chamber. It was with 
 a quaking spirit that she now saw the men prepare 
 to explore the roof. " I'll ope de window," she said,
 
 74 KATHERTNE EARLE. 
 
 officiously, mounting the stairs with a great shuffling 
 and stumbling noise, and raising the skylight only 
 after having let it fall once with a warning clatter. 
 But her fears were vain ; the men returned alone, the 
 jubilant spirits of the principal character in the search 
 seeming to have deserted him as he retraced his steps 
 slowly, pausing occasionally to ponder, and question, 
 and explore some hidden corner on his way to the 
 parlor, where by this time Delphine and Jack had 
 joined their mother. In a few moments the door 
 closed after their unwelcome visitors, and the family 
 was left to itself again.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 75 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHERE IS BEN? 
 
 HARDLY had the gate swung to with a dull echo 
 when Chloe rushed into the parlor; upon her 
 countenance was that peculiar ashen hue which in the 
 dusky race betokens fright or sudden strong emotion. 
 Her eyes appeared to have become detached, and to 
 roll strangely in her head. 
 
 " Lor', Missis, whar's dat ar Ben ? " 
 
 Madam Earle stared at the girl as though her senses 
 had deserted her. " What do you mean, Chloe ? " 
 
 " You shore he's no in de house ? " pursued the girl, 
 who for the moment almost doubted her mistress. No 
 one -else could have hidden him. 
 
 " Certainly not," Madam Earle replied ; but her voice 
 and manner were agitated. Could Chloe have learned 
 the dangerous secret of how she had tried to aid Ben ? 
 But Chloe was too much engrossed with the thought 
 of her discovery to be thoroughly suspicious. She 
 desired only to impart it. " Wha ? you tink I foun' up 
 in de back attic ? " she went on, breathlessly. Then 
 she lowered her voice to an awful whisper as Jack 
 and Delphine drew near : " Dat ar camlip cloak you 
 done gif Mammy las' night ! " 
 
 " You were mistaken," Madam Earle said, quickly ; 
 " you were excited, and so took something else for that.
 
 76 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 It could not be," she added, decidedly. The camlet 
 cloak by this time must be well on its way to Canada, 
 she thought. 
 
 For reply, Chloe pulled something triumphantly 
 from her pocket. It was a piece of brown wrapping- 
 paper holding the remains of a sandwich. " I see dat 
 ar when I stoop to pick up de cloak, and I done scrab- 
 ble it in yere ; " and the paper vanished into her 
 pocket again. 
 
 What did it mean? A word of explanation from 
 their mother was necessary for Delphine and Jack to 
 comprehend the beginning of the mystery. " Mammy 
 was in great trouble," she said ; " I gave her the old 
 camlet cloak, some sandwiches, and some money." She 
 paused ; not that she feared to confess the whole lest 
 her children should inform against her; but a little 
 flush warmed her pale face as she remembered the 
 lesson she had impressed upon Delphine and Katey in 
 regard to supporting the law. Then she went on 
 quite humbly, " I knew, when I gave them to her, that 
 she would use them all for Ben." 
 
 Delphine's arm crept about her mother's neck. " I'm 
 so glad you have told us ! " she whispered ; " for I 
 thought you were hard and cruel to her. See how 
 unjust I have been ! " Then Delphine's thoughts re- 
 turned to Chloe's story. . " But what does it mean ? " 
 she added, in the same breath. 
 
 " Put the chain across the door," said Madam Earle ; 
 " and, Chloe, "see that all the doors and windows are 
 fastened. We must look into this. Where is Katey ? " 
 
 No one knew. No one remembered to have seen 
 her. Chloe was appealed to. She recalled the in- 
 cident upon the stairs. A horrible suspicion seized
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 77 
 
 Delphine. Wild stories of kidnapping floated about 
 in these days, and poor little Katey was not of the 
 fairest skin ; might not Delphine flew into the hall, 
 calling her name aloud ; Jack darted up the stairs ; 
 Madam Earle and Chloe followed hurriedly, bearing 
 lights. As they attempted to open the door of the 
 room which Delphine and Katey occupied together, 
 something resisted their efforts. It was Jack who 
 crowded through the narrow space, and found a little 
 dark heap lying against the door who gathered the 
 child up in his arms, and bore her, with awkward ten- 
 derness, down the stairs, depositing her upon the sofa 
 in the parlor at last. 
 
 " 0, Jack ! " she cried, throwing her arms around his 
 neck, when, with a little sobbing sigh, the breath re- 
 turned to the white lips, and the eyes opened to find 
 Jack's dear face bent over her. " Don't let them take 
 me ! don't let them take me ! 0, I can't go ! " and in 
 her terror her arms tightened about his nock. 
 
 " Lord a massy," wailed Chloe, " de chile cl'ar gone 
 crazy." 
 
 But Madam Earle began to faintly surmise the truth. 
 " No one can take you, dear," she said ; " and they did 
 not find Ben." 
 
 Jack, who had been growing very red in the face 
 under Katey 's convulsive embrace, was suddenly re- 
 leased. " But I heard the bed roll back ; then I tried 
 to hide," she added. 
 
 " He done gone, missy," said Chloe ; and seeing that 
 the child still stared as though she did not compre- 
 hend, she proceeded to elaborate her assertion. " Run, 
 streaked it, clar'd out," she added, convincingly. 
 
 " Gone ! " and Katey sat upright. " How could
 
 78 KATHER1NE EARLE. 
 
 he get out? I pushed the bed up against the 
 door ! " 
 
 Such confusion of exclamations, and kisses, and tears 
 as this simple sentence evolved ! " 0, you bressed 
 chile ! " cried Chloe, falling down before her, and 
 clasping her knees. ' . 
 
 Little by little the story was told, Katey's head 
 lying back in her mother's arms, Delphine holding her 
 feet, and Jack making awkward dabs at her head oc- 
 casionally, under the impression that he was stroking 
 her hair. 
 
 Even her hesitation and fears before taking Ben 
 into the house she did not hide. " You see," she said, 
 apologetically, looking gravely from one to another of 
 the little group, " I thought you might feel bad if they 
 found it out, and took me away in the Black Maria." 
 
 Here Jack, whose countenance had been working 
 in a fearful and wonderful manner while he stared 
 fixedly at the wall before him, uttered a sound be- 
 tween a snort and a groan, and bolted from the room. 
 Delphme embraced the little worn shoes. " You are 
 a born heroine, dear," she said. But Madam Earle 
 shook her head as she stroked the dark cheek lying 
 against her arm. " Child, what will you do next ! " 
 she said. 
 
 "Now, missis, don' you scole dat pore chile," in- 
 terposed Chloe. 
 
 And no one scolded Katey. 
 
 When the excitement and surprise were over, they 
 returned, one and all, to the first question : where was 
 Ben ? "I will go up to the attic, and see for myself," 
 Madam Earle said. But no one would be left behind. 
 Even Katey followed the others, half carried in Chloe's
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 79 
 
 strong arms. Could Ben, by any possibility, be lurk- 
 ing still in the house ? Katey called his name softly 
 as they went on, but there was no response. The bed 
 was pushed back from before the low door in the front 
 attic ; the door itself stood open, as Chloe had left it. 
 " Ben ! " called the child ; but ho one replied, and one 
 after another they passed through the narrow open- 
 ing, Chloe holding the lamp high above her head to 
 light the darkness. The place was empty of human 
 presence save themselves. But Chloe had spoken the 
 truth ; the old camlet cloak was suspended from the 
 nail where she had hung it. 
 
 How had Ben escaped ? " Through the window," 
 Dclpliino suggested. But it was fastened by a nail 
 upon the inside. 
 
 " I know ! " exclaimed Jack ; " I had forgotten all 
 about it." He parted the ghostly garments hanging 
 from the beams, and pointed to a trap-door fitted so 
 nicely as to be quite concealed except upon close in- 
 spection, and so near to the floor in the slope of the 
 roof as to be easily gained. 
 
 " And the oddest part of it is," he went on, " that 
 when it is shut you would never notice it from the 
 outside." 
 
 " Ben must have discovered it during the day, 
 and escaped when Katey warned him ; but where ? " 
 queried Madam Earle, letting the garments fall back 
 into their place again. 
 
 " 0, I've been out there," Jack replied. " You can 
 creep along to the chimney, and then slide down to 
 the shed roof; and from there it is nothing to drop to 
 the fence, and so to the street."' 
 
 " Then they haven't found him ? " asked Katey, 
 doubtingly : she was not yet convinced.
 
 80 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Found him ? No, indeed. Ben is safe enough," 
 returned Jack in a tone of such entire conviction that 
 Katey's heart was eased of its burden. 
 
 Ah 1 the next day she lay upon the sofa in the parlor, 
 prostrate under the weakness and languor which fol- 
 lowed her unnatural excitement. But no queen upon 
 a throne ever received such homage. Delphine wrote 
 her French exercises close by her pillow ; Jack, upon 
 his knees before her, poured out his whole store of 
 treasures stringless tops, bats for lost balls, a col- 
 lection too numerous for mention and, last of all, a 
 wonderful ship, of his own construction, which was 
 like no craft ever afloat. Even Chloe expended all 
 her skill in the building of a surprising tart, which 
 was brought in upon an old-fashioned china plate, and 
 presented with as much ceremony as though it had 
 been the freedom of a city. And after a time Mammy 
 appeared, poor Mammy, who was still in doubt as to 
 Ben's fate, in a series of dips which were nothing 
 less than heavy gymnastics, making of her approach, 
 through the periodical inflation of her scant petticoats, 
 a succession of " cheese-cakes " marvellous to witness. 
 She fairly submerged Katey in watery blessings and 
 benedictions. " Dis yere chile," she said at last, sol- 
 emnly, " is 'lected fo' some mighty porpoise. De Lor 
 bress ye, honey ! De Lor will bress ye," she added, 
 raising her head and gazing away beyond Katey, with 
 the far-seeing eyes of prophecy. 
 
 It was during Mammy's visit that Katey learned of 
 Ben's errand to the old Quaker. And now, with some- 
 thing tangible before her, something really to wait for 
 and expect, her excitement and anxiety increased 
 every moment. As the day wore on, the pale cheeks
 
 K-ATHERINE EARLE. 81 
 
 became so flushed, the dark eyes so unnaturally bright, 
 that Madam Earle's fears were aroused. " Dear child, 
 try to forget it all," she said, turning the hot pillow ; 
 " we shall hear something by morning, perhaps ; but 
 close your eyes now, and go to sleep." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," Katey replied, obediently ; but in a 
 moment the great shining eyes were following her 
 mother about the room. " They open themselves," 
 Katey explained, humbly. Slowly the long day wore 
 away ; the wind wailing drearily in the chimney, the 
 rain falling steadily against the window-pane. 
 
 The heavy curtains were drawn at last, shutting out 
 the trickling drops, and the high, bare brick wall over 
 the way. The fire brightened in the darkness, the 
 wailing wind was stilled, and Katey fell into a troubled 
 sleep, from which she was aroused by a startling peal 
 upon the knocker. Even Madam Earle felt her heart 
 cease to beat for a moment, as she held clasped tight 
 in her arms the form of the child who had sprung up 
 with a cry. The fire-light shone upon Chloe's startled 
 face thrust into the room. " Shall I ope de door, 
 missis ? " she asked, in a hoarse whisper. " What ef 
 dat ar kidnap done come agin ? " 
 
 " Certainly you must open the door ; but bring a 
 light first." 
 
 There was a moment of suspense as Chloe's shuf- 
 fling step moved through the hall. They heard the 
 cautious opening of the heavy door, then the fall of 
 the clanking chain, followed by the cheering tones 
 of Chloe's echoing laugh. Madam Earle laid the child 
 back upon her pillow. Even Katey knew that their 
 dreaded visitor had not come. 
 
 " How does thoe do ? " 
 6
 
 82 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 An old gentleman stood just within the door, his 
 face almost hidden under the broad-brimmed, gray 
 felt hat he had not yet removed. His straight-bodied 
 coat, and even his hair, were of this same gray hue, 
 reminding Katey of a doll she had owned once, knit 
 of gray yarn from head to foot, and bound off at the 
 toes. His eyes were bright, and black, and shining, 
 she could see as he advanced to meet her mother, 
 like beads, she said, still thinking of the doll, and 
 then she laughed aloud. 
 
 " Ah ! so this is the child ; " and he turned to the 
 sofa, laying his hand softly upon Katey's head. 
 
 " And this is Jason Miles,' 7 her mother explained ; 
 " the good man to whom I sent Ben. And now 
 
 But Katey sat upright among her pillows. " WJiere 
 is Sen?-' 
 
 The old gentleman laughed, a little, wheezing 
 laugh, which shook his body without materially affect- 
 ing his countenance. 
 
 " He is safe ; but that is all I can tell thee now. 
 Will thee not rest satisfied?" 
 
 " I suppose it's a secret," Katey replied, slowly. 
 She had her own ideas as to honor quaint, childish 
 ideas, but true in the main ; and she asked nothing 
 more of Ben, much as she desired to know where and 
 how he had escaped. 
 
 " Yes, a great secret ; " and again the rusty ma- 
 chinery within the old gentleman seemed to run down 
 noisily. Then he turned to her mother. " I knew thee 
 would be anxious about the apples," he said, with a 
 twinkle of the bright eyes ; " so I brought them as 
 soon as- possible. I got the note about midnight. 
 Thee had better know nothing more ; then thee can
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 83 
 
 answer no questions." He rose up as though his 
 errand were done. " My son is at the gate. We will 
 roll the barrels in at once. I am in some haste to re- 
 turn. Good by, little one, and God bless thee for a 
 brave child ! " He stood a moment over Katey, his 
 hands resting upon her head, and she fancied he said 
 something softly to himself. Then he followed her 
 mother out of the room. 
 
 She lay quite still after he had gone. A blessed 
 quiet had descended upon her, like that which filled 
 the church when the people bowed their heads to the 
 last amen. By and by Jack crept in to sit beside her, 
 awed into silence at sight of the white face from which 
 the flush had faded away, and Delphine before the old 
 piano sang a little song in her sweet voice. It was a 
 restful song, which had in it yet something of thanks- 
 giving, and it stole into Katey's heart, and nestled and 
 crooned there softly, as she sank into a gentle sleep.
 
 84 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER Yin. 
 
 t 
 
 IN WHICH THE OLD YOUNG MAN APPEARS. 
 
 A TIME of rest from excitement succeeded the 
 ebb after a flowing tide. So far as the Earle 
 household knew, no other search was ever made for 
 Ben, who was assuredly not worth the trouble of pur- 
 suit. He escaped in safety to Canada, returning, 
 when the excitement had died away, the same shift- 
 less, helpless character as before, aggravated, how- 
 ever, by a new sense of his own importance ; and the 
 little back attic hid never again anything duskier than 
 the shadows. 
 
 Gradually the winter wore out and the spring 
 peeped through. Not the spring of the country, all 
 buds, and birds, and blossoms ; and yet something 
 of bloom came even to Poplar Street. Certain de- 
 mented robins for surely no bird of a sound mind 
 would seek the crowded, noisy town came to build 
 in the apple trees in the back yard the poor old 
 trees that had nearly overslept the time of waking, 
 and shook out only a scant banner of green as the 
 spring went trailing by. White syringas and an old- 
 fashioned lilac bloomed under the parlor windows, 
 while across the narrow front yard, the honeysuckle, 
 climbing the ugly brick wall, threw out delicate arms 
 to sway, and beckon, and promise sweets to the 
 summer.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 85 
 
 With the spring came a new wonder to Katey. 
 The old young man who had danced with Delphine 
 at the party began to appear at every turn. What 
 did it mean ? Did they walk quietly down the street, 
 bent upon a mission of charity, to Mammy, perhaps 
 lo ! as they reached the first corner he stood before 
 them, smiling, and bowing, and raising his hat. The 
 basket in Delphinc's hand was changed to his own ; he 
 walked by her side unrebuked, and even welcomed, 
 which Katey, who was left to follow as she chose, 
 marked with indignant astonishment. 
 
 He seemed to the child to spring up from between 
 the bricks of the sidewalk, so unlocked for was his 
 coming. Did they attend church out from the 
 shadows under the heavy old-fashioned gallery his 
 face beamed upon them ; did Katey come strolling 
 home late from school she was sure to catch a 
 glimpse against the syringa blossoms of Delphine's 
 pink gown vanishing through the gateway, and the 
 next moment the well-known form passed her, the 
 old young man smiling and raising his hat. " Smiling 
 at nothing at all," Katey said to herself, giving him a 
 stiff little bow as she passed. " Silly thing ! " she 
 added, from the depths of her superior wisdom. But 
 her astonishment know no bounds when, one afternoon 
 as she came down the street, she saw him deliberately 
 entering the great gate. She started upon a run, 
 swinging her bonnet by the strings with an indig- 
 nant whirl at the sight of this invasion. Her eyes 
 had surely deceived her ! But no ; when she pushed 
 open the heavy gate he stood upon the broad stone 
 steps before the door. His hand was upon the 
 knocker ; but at Katey's appearance he paused.
 
 86 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Well, little one," he said pleasantly, by way of 
 greeting, as the elfish figure, clad soberly in brown, 
 with the little bonnet still hanging by her side, came 
 up to him. Katey made no reply. The occasion 
 plainly called for severity. She opened the door 
 with an absorbed and pre-occupied air, and would 
 have disappeared among the soft, cool shadows within, 
 had he not stretched out his hand to detain her. 
 " Could I see Miss Earle a moment ? Your sister." 
 
 " 0, Delphine," Katey said. Then why did you say 
 " Miss Earle," she wanted to add, as, leaving him upon 
 the threshold of the parlor, from which the summer 
 sunshine had been shut out, she ran away to call 
 Delphine. 
 
 The young man groped forward. After the dazzling 
 glare of a summer day outside, he could distinguish 
 nothing among the faint, ill-defined forms here. It 
 was odd to think that the great, prone creature before 
 him might in the light prove only a sofa, or then 
 there was a sound as of a swift step upon the stairs, 
 and the child appeared again, a veritable brownie in 
 the dim light. 
 
 " You found her ? " he ventured, interrogatively. 
 
 " Yes," with a little drawl of importance. 
 
 " Well," when Katey volunteered nothing more, 
 " what did she say ? " 
 
 The child had crossed the room, and, opening the 
 blind, let in a long, quivering ray of sunshine, in which 
 she stood like a droll little saint, with a glistening halo 
 about her head. She hesitated a moment, folding her 
 hands and looking down. 
 
 " She said " she began. 
 
 "Well!"
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 87 
 
 " She said," Katey went on with grave deliberation, 
 " ' What in the world has he come for ? ' ' 
 
 The young man stared open-eyed, and then laughed, 
 viewing Katey as though she had been a newly- dis- 
 covered species. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to know what I have come 
 for ? " 
 
 Yes, Katey's face betrayed her curiosity ; but at 
 that moment, Delphine, sweet and shy, appeared in 
 the doorway, dismissing the child by a backward 
 wave of the hand as she closed the door. Katey sat 
 down upon the stairs to await the development of the 
 mystery. Presently Delphine, who had slipped out 
 of the parlor unobserved, tripped over her as she 
 hurried by. " What are you doing here, child ? 
 Run away." 
 
 She rose and mounted the stairs slowly. But she had 
 hardly ensconced herself in the window-seat of the hall 
 above, before Delphine descended, accompanied this 
 time by her mother. The parlor door 'closed upon 
 them. Curled up behind the curtains, with the heavy 
 odor of the lilacs stealing in at the open window, and 
 the soft twilight slowly gathering outside, she waited 
 and listened. A great bumble-bee went whirring by 
 to the honeysuckle over the way ; the bit of blue sky 
 discernible between the high brick houses was drifted 
 over with summer clouds ; there was a twitter of 
 birds in the elm just outside the great gate ; but no 
 sound came from the mysterious stillness below. 
 After a time she heard Chloe's heavy tread in the 
 hall, and a faint glimmer from the swinging lamp 
 over the stairs reached her hiding-place. All at 
 once, when she had almost decided to steal down in
 
 88 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 search of Jack, the echo of voices came up to her. 
 The parlor door had been opened, the outer door 
 swung to, and a sudden stillness succeeded. The 
 visitor had gone. 
 
 She sprang out and ran down the stairs. Jack had 
 come in, and the family were seating themselves at the 
 tea table. Her mother's face was unusually grave, and 
 upon Delphine's cheeks were unmistakable signs of 
 recent tears. " 0, dear ! what can it be ? " thought 
 Katey, too proud to ask, since she had been so plainly 
 left out of their confidence. Jack alone appeared as 
 usual. He was in high spirits, and gradually, in 
 listening to his account of the trials and adventures 
 with which every boyish day was full, her curiosity 
 was forgotten, and the mystery of the afternoon 
 passed from her mind. 
 
 Lying in her little white bed at night, she was 
 awakened as though her name had been uttered 
 aloud. She opened her eyes, was it morning ? 
 No ; it was 'the bright moonlight which flooded the 
 room, and made of Delphine, standing before the 
 window with her hair unbound, a white-robed spirit. 
 
 Katey gave a little cry, and hid her face from the 
 vision. 
 
 " It is only I. Are you awake ? " said Delphine. 
 She crossed the room, and sat down upon the edge 
 of the bed. " I want to tell you something." And 
 Katey, looking into her shining face, and seeing the 
 glint of glory on her hair, trembled, and felt that per- 
 haps it was an angel, after all. She put out her hand 
 to touch her softly. A passing cloud hid the moon. 
 The glory died out of the room, and it was indeed 
 only Delphine, with her golden-brown hair falling over
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 89 
 
 her shoulders, and with, an untold story in her face. 
 " Do you know what I am going to tell you ? " 
 
 '' No," Katey replied. How should she know ! and 
 if she did, what would be the use of telling it ! 
 
 " I am going to be married," said Delphine, 
 dreamily, and as though to herself. 
 
 " Why, Delphine Eaiie ! " exclaimed the child, sit- 
 ting upright in the bed. 
 
 She had thought of marriage indefinitely, as a 
 state upon which they would each and all enter at 
 some distant period of their lives an inevitable 
 event ; but so far away, so shrouded in the dimness 
 of futurity, as to bo beyond ail calculation. Delphine, 
 it seemed, had forestalled the time, and Katey's first 
 impulse was one of indignation. 
 
 " I shall tell mother," she said, severely. 
 
 Delphine laughed. " 0, she knows it. She said I 
 might tell you." 
 
 This made a different affair of it, and Katey was for 
 a time lost in astonishment and the gravest cal- 
 culations. 
 
 " Do you know whom I am to marry ? " Delphine 
 went on, after a moment. 
 
 Katey considered. " 0, Delphine, it isn't that old 
 young man?" 
 
 " Yes, it is, and I am sure you will like him." 
 
 Katey only uttered a deep sigh, without speaking. 
 Then, aroused to fresh wonder, " Does he know it ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " 0, yes ; " and again Delphine laughed. 
 
 " Are you sorry ? " continued Katey, remembering 
 the tears upon Delphine's cheeks. 
 
 " No, only that I shall have to go away from you 
 all ; " and the tears sprang to Delphine's eyes.
 
 90 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 A cold horror crept over Katey. " Not to heaven ? " 
 she whispered. 
 
 " 0, no, but I shall go away to live at Robert's 
 home ; and that is a long distance from here four 
 hundred miles, at least." 
 
 " 0, dear !" wailed the child. 
 
 " There, don't cry." Delphine's cheerful nature 
 began to assert itself at sight of Katey's woe. " You 
 will come and make me long visits. Perhaps some 
 day you may live with me ; who knows ! Then you 
 shall have a pretty little room all to yourself- not at 
 all like this ; " arid she glanced about rather disdain- 
 fully upon the heavy furniture, which had seen its 
 best days. " But lie ,down and close your eyes now ; 
 it is time we were both asleep:" 
 
 She rose as she spoke, and shut the moonlight out 
 of the room. Other questions crowded Katey's brain 
 confusedly, but were never formed into words, for 
 already the little feet were close upon the borders of 
 dream-land. 
 
 The next morning, however, her interest and curi- 
 osity awoke with the day. " "When are you going to 
 be married ? " she asked, as she brushed out the 
 tangles in the short black locks. 
 
 " I don't know in a few weeks," Delphine replied. 
 " Mother says it is a very short acquaintance, but then 
 we know all about the family." 
 
 " What is the matter with 'em ? " asked Katey. 
 
 " I mean how fine a family it is," Delphine replied. 
 " And 0, Katey, you don't know how honorable he was ! " 
 
 As Katey certainly did not, and had, moreover, no 
 idea as to the meaning of the word, she contented 
 herself with looking exceedingly responsive, being 
 much flattered by Delphine's unusual confidence.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 91 
 
 " Ho talked with mother before he said a word 
 to me." 
 
 " Why, Delphino Earle," exclaimed the child, " he 
 was in the parlor with you a long time before you 
 went up stairs to call mother. I was hiding in the 
 hall," she added, as corroborating evidence. 
 
 " But he had been here before, when neither you 
 nor I was at home." 
 
 The breakfast bell interrupted their conversation. 
 Delphine paused, as she Was leaving the room, to say, 
 " Ho is coming to tea to-night. You'll be a go'od little 
 girl, will you not ? and appear as well as you can ; for 
 his people are all quite fine." 
 
 "Are they coming?" Katey was aghast at the 
 prospect. 
 
 " 0, no ; but he would be likely to tell them about 
 you." 
 
 " I don't think much of tell-tales," was Katey's 
 severe response. 
 
 " 0, dear ! " sighed Delphine, in despair, looking 
 down at the little figure standing composedly before 
 the glass, pulling out the sombre folds of its gown, 
 and knowing full well of what unexpected develop- 
 ments the child was capable. " Listen to me, Katey," 
 she said ; " I want him to like my little sister, do you 
 see? and that is why I asked you to try to appear well." 
 
 " And so I will," Katey replied, warmly ; " I'll be a 
 beautiful girl." 
 
 When she pushed open the heavy street door at 
 night, the tones of a strange voice came out to her 
 from the parlor. Robert Estemere, Delphine's lover, 
 had come, then, already. At that moment Delphine 
 descended the stairs. There was a fleck or two of
 
 92 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 yellow-white lace about the neck of the green pongee, 
 above which rose the fair face flushed and happy, and 
 lit by shining eyes. And as she came she hummed a 
 little song. 
 
 " Is that you, Katey ? " checking the song. " Bun 
 away, dear, and make yourself nice." Then she 
 passed on, and the parlor door closed after her. 
 Katey ran up the stairs with the bright vision still 
 before her eyes. She, too, would be fine to honor 
 their guest. She tossed the little brown bonnet into 
 the corner of the room, and began a search, among the 
 heavy drawers and in the depths of the great ward- 
 robe, for something with which to adorn herself. 
 Suddenly she remembered Delphine's curls. At least 
 she could dress her hair in an unusual way ; and, 
 filled with prophetic delight, she brought out a curl- 
 ing-iron, and lit one of the candles in the tall candela- 
 brum on the mantel, making all the pendent prisms 
 jingle like bells. 
 
 What though she burned her fingers and streaked 
 her forehead with queer hieroglyphics in her efforts ? 
 Even when the first curl vanished from before her 
 eyes in fire and smoke, as do the genii in fairy tales, 
 she was neither discouraged nor dismayed. The 
 final result was a succession of droll little stiff points 
 standing out at every conceivable angle, as though 
 she had adorned her head with tenpenny nails. 
 " Won't he be s'prised ? " she thought, viewing them 
 admiringly in the glass before proceeding to array 
 herself in a last summer's gown of some bright hue, 
 which had caught her eye as she explored the re- 
 cesses of the wardrobe. Very scant it was in every 
 particular, requiring a herculean effort of the little
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 93 
 
 fingers to make the refractory hooks and eyes join 
 hands. No amount of pulling could lengthen the 
 sleeves or prevent a deep flounce of white from show- 
 ing below the skirt. This she essayed to remedy by 
 means of a couple of pins, transforming herself into 
 a ballet-dancer, but a ballet-dancer, alas ! who had 
 forgotten her white slippers. Even then the back 
 breadths of the skirt could not be reached by the hur- 
 rying, trembling fingers, startled as she was by the 
 unexpected sound of the tea bell ; but the ornamenta- 
 tion of her head also had been only in front ; " and 
 people always sit with their backs to the wall," she 
 thought, so it did not much matter. Though how 
 very fortunate it was that it 'should be so ! There 
 were no bounds to her ingenuity, nor indeed to her 
 desires, as she hastily searched among Delphine's 
 treasures, conscious that her own were not equal to 
 the occasion, nor suited to the grand scale of her prep- 
 arations. Her time being limited, she contented her- 
 self with a showy scarf, crossed upon her proud littb 
 bosom, and fastened by an enormous brooch, which, 
 upon the diminutive figure, had much the effect of a 
 moderate-sized breastplate. Thus bristling about the 
 head, and tolerably shielded, armed, and equipped for 
 conquest, she was ready to descend ; filled with an ec- 
 static joy, a thrilling sense of delight at the result of 
 her efforts, in the midst of which struggled the one 
 thought of Won't he be s'prised ? " Of that she had 
 no doubt. 
 
 She reached the parlor door. She opened it with 
 assurance, and moved stiffly into the room ; shuffling 
 forward in a way intended to hide her dusty shoes, 
 remembered now for the Jirst time. Jack had already
 
 94 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 been presented to the stranger, and taken refuge in a 
 corner. Her mother had risen from her chair pre- 
 pared to lead the way out to tea. Delphine and her 
 lover were half hidden behind the heavy curtains of 
 one of the windows. The opening door caused every 
 one to turn. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " exclaimed Delphine, involunta- 
 rily, as the strange little figure, with its face tattooed 
 like that of a South Sea Islander, paused a moment 
 before advancing. At the same instant a suppressed 
 shout burst from Jack's corner. An awful pause suc- 
 ceeded, in the midst of which the strained fastenings 
 of the gown began to give way with a noise like the 
 discharge of musketry.' Jack started from his seat. 
 Delphine laughed aloud. 
 
 " Child ! what have you done to yourself? " ex- 
 claimed her mother. 
 
 Poor Katey ! She looked from one to another with 
 great beseeching eyes, in which the tears were slowly 
 gathering, as her mother led her hastily from the 
 room. 
 
 " I don't know what to do with you," Madam Earle 
 said, in a puzzled tone, trying not to laugh, as the 
 mortification and grief of the child gathered into sobs. 
 She hesitated. The guest must not be neglected. 
 " I think you had best go to bed. Chloe shall bring 
 you some supper presently. There, don't cry, dear ; " 
 and kissing the little tattooed forehead, she returned 
 to the parlor, while Katey climbed the stairs with far 
 different emotions from those with which she had de- 
 scended a few moments before. 
 
 It was Jack who, with much clatter and rattle, and 
 imminent peril to his burden, sought her a little later,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 95 
 
 a supper tray in hand. She was lying upon the bed 
 in all her despised finery, sobbing as though her heart 
 would break. " 0, Jack ! isn't it dreadful ? He'U tell 
 all his folks, and they're beautiful people." 
 
 " No, he won't," returned Jack, consolingly, setting 
 down the tray at an alarming angle. 
 
 " Yes, he will ; Delphine said so," persisted Katey, 
 refusing to be comforted. 
 
 " He isn't such a fellow as that, I'm sure," Jack 
 went on. " He's going to rig my ship after tea." 
 
 " Is he ? " Katey's tears ceased to flow. That will 
 be real nice. But 0, Jack ! JVe got to go to bed ! " 
 
 " No, you needn't. Mother, only said so, because 
 she didn't know what else to do with you. My ! " 
 as Katey sat upright, inspired with hope at this. 
 " Well, you are a picture ! " The problem was almost 
 beyond Jack's skill. He regarded her doubtfully for 
 a moment. " Suppose you wash your face, and comb 
 out that top-knot, and put on the clothes you always 
 wear ; you might come down and slip into the parlor, 
 and no one would notice you." 
 
 Katey turned her head upon one side doubtingly. 
 
 " I'll tell them not to," Jack burst out, ignoring his 
 bashful fears by a mighty effort. 
 
 " Will you ? 0, you are the goodest Jack ! " and 
 Katey intercepted his retreat by throwing her arms 
 about his neck. 
 
 " Well, don't choke a fellow," said Jack, struggling 
 to get free, inwardly pleased that his efforts were ap- 
 preciated, yet, boy-like, determined not to show it. 
 " Mind, no fol-de-rols this time," he added, sharply, 
 from the door. 
 
 " 0, no," Katey replied, with awful solemnity. " I 
 shouldn't think of such a thing."
 
 96 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Half an hour later, a little brown figure stole down 
 the stairs, and lingered in the hall, where a summer 
 wind blew rustling leaves in at the open door, with the 
 sound of a street organ, and the jingle of a tambourine. 
 After a while, when the music and the tinkle of the 
 bells sounded far away, Katey crept towards the par- 
 lor. No one noticed her ; no one looked up or greeted 
 her. Delphine. before the old piano, touched soft 
 chords with gentle fingers, the breeze lifting the cur- 
 tains behind her, and stirring her hair. Madam Earle 
 sat in the shadow, her head turned away, and resting 
 upon her hand. Jack's round, freckled face was close 
 to the blazing lamp, disputing possession with the 
 moths that flew dizzily about, while he watched 
 every movement of his new friend, under whose 
 skilful fingers the rigging of the ship went on. Soon 
 Delphine left the piano. Katey ventured to draw near, 
 and even Madam Earle at last joined the circle, and 
 the evening, begun so inauspiciously, had a very 
 pleasant, and even merry ending, after all. 
 
 Delphine's wedding followed before many weeks 
 the first break in the family. But the little rift once 
 made, how it widens as the years go by ! They were 
 very peaceful, uneventful years which settled down 
 upon the old house after Delphine's sunny presence 
 left it, the happiest years of all those which tempt 
 no one to write their history. One by one they fell 
 softly, each covering the last with forgetfulness. 
 Katey 's odd freaks and fancies passed out of mind, as 
 they were toned down by the touch of womanhood. 
 For Katey was growing to be a woman. Jack had 
 arrived at man's estate already. Have we dwelt too
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 97 
 
 long upon the child, and the people who moved in 
 and out, and formed a part of her daily life ? Many, 
 perhaps the most of them, were but accessories to 
 the picture, but lay figures in however strong a 
 light they were placed at the time. In the days of 
 our great- grandmothers, when it was the fashion to 
 transmit one's portrait to his or her descendants, it was 
 not the face alone, however grand or sweet it might 
 be, which found a place upon the canvas. There was a 
 shimmer of soft silk, a fall of yellow lace, a bit of mar- 
 ble pavement under the impossible feet, the back of 
 an old carved chair, the projecting corner of a cabinet 
 surmounted by an antique vase, or possibly an open 
 door or window, and a smooth stretch of lawn, with 
 the towers of a castle in the distance. All these were 
 not and yet they helped to make up the portrait 
 of a lady. And so Katey's early surroundings and 
 associations may serve in some measure to show the 
 child-nature which was the same to the end. Years 
 will strengthen or soften, they can never utterly de- 
 stroy. In a few words, we may gather up the threads 
 of these years before we pass on. 
 
 Sad days came at last to the old house where the 
 mother began to fade away ; imperceptibly at first, 
 not losing, only failing to gain, with the gathering 
 years. Gradually Katey assumed her cares, until she 
 bore them all, with a burden of dread heavier than 
 care. She was alone ; Jack had gone to be agent for 
 some stone quarries in which Delphine's husband held 
 an interest. She was doubly alone ; Jack had Josie 
 Durant, for the boyish fancy grew and strengthened, 
 and he had won her promise now, Delphine had her 
 husband and child ; but to Katey was left only the 
 7
 
 98 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 mother, who was slipping away now. 0, to know this, 
 at last, beyond all comfort of doubting ; to feel that 
 strong hands could not hold her, that neither prayers 
 nor tears could avail; to have the awful sense of 
 walking day after day in the. valley of the shadow of 
 death, with feet heavy and sore, and eyes blinded by 
 crying ; to grope in the midst of thick darkness ; to 
 stretch out the hands and grasp nothing; to know 
 that, somewhere, into this darkness, the dear form 
 would presently vanish where she could not follow ! 
 
 She knew that around, above, beneath, were the 
 everlasting arms ; but in those days they seemed to 
 her to enclose only the happy. Then came the last 
 hour, the last word, the last trembling breath and 
 the darkness. 
 
 But the Light shineth in darkness. 
 
 The old house, with all its. tender associations, 
 passed into the hands of strangers. It passed from the 
 face of the earth and the sight of men years ago ; but 
 the loving memory of the place rests in the heart of 
 one woman to-day. Cliloe sought and found a new 
 home, and Delphine claimed Katey for her own, bear- 
 ing her away to her own home in a distant city. 
 
 " Perhaps you will live with me some day," she had 
 said once to assuage Katey's childish grief; little 
 dreaming that the words would prove a prophecy, 
 fulfilled a dozen years later, through more bitter tears 
 than those which had wet the little face at the pros- 
 pect of Delphine's marriage. 
 
 It had been autumn and winter while the mother 
 was passing away the very season taking on some- 
 thing of the gloom and heaviness of the sad young
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 99 
 
 heart that waited and watched so helplessly. The 
 spring bloomed out in Delphine's city home like a 
 promise of happier days. Hope, and even joy, will 
 return, though we think they are banished forever ; 
 and the late summer of that year brought to Katey, if 
 not flowers, yet a certain freshness, and something 
 like bloom, which showed that life was not meant to 
 be so dreary and forlorn as she had believed it would 
 be only a little time before.
 
 100 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DACBE HOME. 
 
 AGAIN the autumn and the winter passed by, and 
 Katey had become accustomed to the new life, 
 which, in its ease and luxury, was so unlike the old, but 
 which must always hold one place unfilled. They had 
 come down to the sea, Mrs. Estemere, Katey, and 
 Launce, Delphine's boy, a long way from their city 
 home, to spend the summer months. The Durants had 
 taken a house close by, just across the gravelly car- 
 riage-way and strip of lawn dotted with flower plots 
 which ran before the cottages, in the last of which 
 they were domiciled, from the hotel to the cliff. It 
 was a hot, breathless morning, with the sun hanging 
 like a globe of fire over the shining sea and glistening 
 sands. Katey had descended late, to find Delphine 
 already gone for her bath. Calamity, the colored 
 waiter from the hotel, had brought in the breakfast, 
 and was making the coffee now in the little butler's 
 pantry, out of the toy dining-room. She ^pulled up 
 the blinds, and seated herself before the table set out 
 in the bay-window, which framed a picture shifting as 
 the views of a magic lantern. A straggling honey- 
 suckle branch, crowded with blossoms, barred her 
 vision, while beyond, below the cliff, the yellow sand 
 stretched out far as the eye could see, alive with 
 bathers.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 101 
 
 Some one ran hastily up the steps from the beach, 
 and passed the window. It was Delphine in a pink 
 morning-dress, her hair twisted up loosely under 
 her wide-rimmed hat, but falling in damp, crinkling 
 waves down upon one cheek. Fresh and sweet to 
 look at as a young girl, she was, though she had been 
 wife and mother for a dozen years or more now. 
 
 " Whom do you think I met this morning ? " She 
 stood before the table eating strawberries from the 
 glass dish encircled with cool, green leaves, just be- 
 fore her, picking them up one by one with her pink- 
 tipped fingers. How did Katey know ? The Russian 
 minister, perhaps, in his drosky, after whom, in any 
 other place but this, where common things only were 
 strange and unlooked-for, the boys would have run in 
 the street ; or Mrs. Colonel Cuyler, with her hideous 
 black dwarf in the rumble of her phaeton ; or 
 
 " Dacre Home ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " but Katey's face showed only a passing inter- 
 est. " Here is Calamity with the coffee. Was ever 
 misfortune more welcome ? " 
 
 "But you remember him?" persisted Mrs. Este- 
 mere, when she had unloosed the little silk scarf, 
 tying her hat under her chin, and was seated opposite 
 her sister. 
 
 " 0, yes ! " There flashed upon Katey's mind a rec- 
 ollection of the morning when she ran down Poplar 
 Street, followed by poor quaking Ben, when Dacre 
 stood upon the steps ovethe way, and saw him enter 
 the great gate after her. He told of it, she knew. 
 It was he who informed the officers. That was a 
 dozen and more years ago ; but again she was thrilled 
 with indignation at the thought. " How childish ! "
 
 102 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 she added, in a moment, to herself. " It was probably 
 accidental, after all. I suppose I should hardly know 
 him now," she said, aloud. " He went away to school 
 when we were both quite young, and I never chanced 
 to meet him afterwards." 
 
 " I am sure you would. I recognized him at once," 
 Delphine rejoined, hastily. She was evidently pleased 
 by this unexpected meeting. " And I asked him to 
 call." 
 
 Katey laid down her fork. " How could you ? " 
 
 " How could I avoid it ? Besides, I was thoroughly 
 glad to see him. We knew him when we were chil- 
 dren. It was for you, dear. What do you mean ? I 
 thought you would be pleased." Then she drew a 
 frightened breath, 'and stared at the innocent blos- 
 soms that had thrust their pink faces in at the open 
 window. " I fear I ought not to have asked him, after 
 all. What have we heard ? What were the stories ? 
 Some affair at college " 
 
 " He never finished his course, I believe," Katey re- 
 plied. " He was expelled, or left under suspicion. I 
 don't know the story ; I could not ask Jeanie, but there 
 was something." 
 
 " Then what did he appear to me for ! " exclaimed 
 Mrs. Estemere, in real vexation. " Why do such peo- 
 ple always come up when you least expect them, and 
 have had no time to decide upon how they ought to 
 be received ? " 
 
 " Very likely you'll neverfce him again," suggested 
 Katey, consolingly. 
 
 " 0, yes, I will ; I shall meet him the first time I 
 leave the house ; and he will call, I know. I saw it 
 in liis face. He seemed quite overcome by the invi-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 103 
 
 tation. Poor fellow ! I suppose nobody is glad to see 
 him. Perhaps it is not so bad, after all. Such stories 
 are always exaggerated," she added, anxious to find 
 some point of comfort in what appeared now an awk- 
 ward dilemma. " But I cannot allow you to meet him ; 
 not, at least, until I learn something more. And, as 
 you say, we may never see him again." 
 
 At night Calamity came down from the hotel with a 
 steaming kettle in one hand, and a plate of toast 
 wrapped in a napkin in the other, running back for 
 the butter and a dish of berries, with which he marked 
 his course the length of the carriage way, and again 
 for the shrimps and cresses. The bustle was over at 
 last, the tea served, the tea-things cleared away, and 
 Katey had gone up to her room to write a note to 
 Jack. She would run over to Josie Durant's, and en- 
 close it in her semi- weekly letter presently when 
 it was finished. She was writing the last word 
 when she heard a step outside upon the gravel, then 
 a voice, and a movement down below upon the veranda. 
 She sprang up, urged by curiosity ; the letter upon 
 her knee fluttered down to the floor. But she was 
 too late ; the roof of the veranda screened the visitor 
 from her sight, whoever he might be. She had not 
 recognized his voice, but Delphine would send for her 
 if it were one of the many acquaintances whom the 
 pretty mistress of the little buff cottage had gathered 
 about her here. 
 
 It must be Dacre, Katey thought, when the hot, 
 still twilight settled into a breathless darkness, and 
 yet no summons came. She groped about in vain for 
 a light. Where was Dobry Delphine's maid? She 
 had forgotten to leave a candle. She found her way
 
 104 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 at last to the open window again. Something slipped 
 under her foot. It was the note to Jack. Josie would 
 mail her letter without it now, believing she had not 
 written. It was a pretty little cottage, this which 
 they had taken for the summer all gables, and dor- 
 mer-windows, and cream- colored peaks and points, 
 glaringly bright, and dazzling under a midday sun. 
 But to-night, with no breeze from the sea, the cham- 
 bers were hot and stifling, and it was double torment 
 to be shut up like a prisoner here throughout the 
 whole long evening. 
 
 Mrs. Estemere looked in on her way to bed. 
 
 " What, still in the dark, Katey ? This is quite too 
 bad. Where is Dobry ? " 
 
 " Then it was Dacre ? " And Katey stepped out of 
 the shadows into the circle of light from the candle 
 in Delphino's hand. 
 
 " Yes ; and you might have come down, after all. 
 Still, I am not sorry," she added, thoughtfully, seem- 
 ing to drop out of the present moment into the past 
 hour again, of which Katey had heard only the mur- 
 mur of voices. " He has told me a great deal about 
 himself; and I think he has been abused." 
 
 " Perhaps so." Katey spoke indifferently. She 
 knew nothing of the story. Still her prejudices were 
 against him. Something within her rose up and joined 
 his accusers. 
 
 " He is coming again," Delphine said, as she was 
 leaving the room. " That is, if he does not go away 
 at once." Then she set down her candle, and kissed 
 Katey good night. And a new chapter had begun 
 already in Katey's life, though she knew nothing of it. 
 
 The summer twilight was like a story like a beau-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 105 
 
 tiful old story read to the accompaniment of music, 
 with the great far- spreading, luminous sea before the 
 eyes, and the dull, hushed noise of the surf rolling in 
 upon the ear, as though some fearful dragon of ancient 
 times lay bound and moaning upon the shore. Strag- 
 gling carriages, filled with gayly dressed people, 
 toiled home across the sands. Young men and 
 maidens trooped by along the cliff an endless pro- 
 cession. Year after year the sea heard a story more 
 beautiful than that of the twilight whispered softly 
 or shouted aloud by happy voices, shrill and gay ; the 
 story of youth, and love, and summer time. The 
 voices, the forms, the faces may change ; but the story 
 will go on while the world stands and the sea crouches 
 upon the shore to listen. 
 
 Katey, tall and slight, and holding up her white 
 gown, caught here and there with black ribbons, 
 stepped out from the veranda. The little strip of 
 lawn was wet with dew, which might have blown in 
 from the sea, so salt it was ; the Cupid's bow set in 
 the grass flamed with scarlet geraniums. 
 
 " Allow me, if it is a nosegay you want," said a 
 young man who had followed her, moving languidly 
 down the steps. But Katey was already bending 
 over the flowers. " Don't disturb yourself, Mr. Vose. 
 I was looking for heliotropes ; but there are none, I 
 see ; " and she rose again. Some one, coming up from 
 the cliff, turned at the sound of her fresh, sweet voice 
 a young man whose eyes met hers. Dark eyes 
 they were, set tolerably near each other in a dark, 
 smooth face. For an instant she stood quite still, 
 holding the white drapery about her, some recollec- 
 tion struggling in her mind, the darkening space be-
 
 106 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 hind her, the bright flowers at her feet ; then he had 
 raised his hat and passed on. Delphine was right ; 
 she knew him now ; it was Dacre Home, though for a 
 moment his face had been strange to her. But where 
 had he been ah 1 this time ? A week had passed since 
 ho came to win Mrs. Estemere's good opinion. He 
 was evidently in no haste to follow up his victory. 
 
 Katey was down before Delphine the next morning. 
 What was this upon her plate ? a loose knot of 
 wet, heavy-scented heliotropes. " Mr. Vose," she 
 said. And yet he was not accustomed to be abroad 
 at such an early hour, she knew. Calamity came 
 shambling in from the pantry at her call, ducking his 
 head by way of obeisance. 
 
 "A young gem'man passin' de winder when I's 
 settin' out de table lay it jus' dar," he explained. 
 
 " For Mrs. Estemere ? " 
 
 " No ; for de young lady for you, missy." 
 
 " Some one of the gentlemen up at the hotel, I sup- 
 pose. Which?" 
 
 " No, missy ; a strange gem'man. I nebber seen 
 him 'fore, shore's I lib. A young, dark-like gem'man." 
 
 The flowers dropped out of her hand. 
 
 Dacre had heard her remark, then, the evening be- 
 fore. How impertinen, to come to the window I She 
 rose and took hold of the tassel of the shutter-cord. 
 The string caught ; it fell with a crash at last, " Don't 
 leave it so again ; I am sure it is not safe," she said, 
 and passed on into the little drawing-room to wait for 
 Delphine. 
 
 "How nice it was of him!" Mrs. Estemere ex- 
 claimed, when Katey had told the story, even to the 
 chance encounter of the night before.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 107 
 
 " I think it was impertinent," Katey replied. She 
 remembered him as a boy, with his haughty, super- 
 cilious ways. How he had looked down upon and 
 scorned them all then ! That time was as fresh and 
 vivid to her mind as when they lived it. Why had he 
 come now to act a different part ? Circumstances had 
 changed, but they had not changed. Dobry came 
 down with Launce, and they passed out to the break- 
 fast-table. It was Mrs. Estemere, who gathered up 
 the despised flowers at last, put them in water, and 
 set them out in the drawing-room. " Why should it 
 not be ? " she had said to herself, thinking of Katey 
 and Dacre, and looking far into the future with a 
 woman's hasty catching at possibilities. 
 
 Ho had won upon her sympathies, by no means a 
 difficult matter of attainment, for Delphine was tender- 
 hearted and unsuspicious ; he was undeniably well- 
 born, as we Americans reckon good birth, having had 
 a grandfather of whom it was safe to speak even in 
 polite society. His family had prospered and in- 
 creased in wealth since the old days in Poplar Street, 
 where their name was remembered now to point more 
 than one story of success ; he had been wild and reck- 
 less in his life, but though she said the words to 
 herself, the blessed innocence of the woman's mind 
 clothed them with but vague meaning, still he 
 would turn, he would change, and he had only to re- 
 pent to bo received, like the prodigal son, with music 
 and dancing, with feasting and gifts, in his father's 
 house. And when all these results were brought 
 about, what could be more desirable for Katey, who 
 was growing restless under her idle, unaccustomed 
 life, and was planning even so soon to go away and do
 
 108 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 for herself. Proud, foolish Katey! who could not 
 take even from Delphine and Jack, dearly as she loved 
 them, what they were only too happy to bestow upon 
 her. 
 
 The wind changed towards night. The sky shut 
 down upon the sea, and the fog came driving in, heavy 
 and thick. Down upon the shore the dragon roared 
 and chafed at his chains. The beach was deserted, 
 the cliff bare of strollers, as Katey sprang out of the 
 low phaeton at the door of the cottage, her pretty 
 violet gown drenched, her hair, heavy and damp, fall- 
 ing upon her neck, her arms filled with great creamy 
 lilies. The drive across the country, with the wet 
 wind in her face, had brought a new light to her eyes, 
 a new deep red to her cheeks. " Good night," called 
 Josie Durant, gathering up the reins, and turning the 
 heads of her ponies. Josie's gown, gray and glistening, 
 held its own, despite the fog her hair, too, bound up 
 tight and smooth, knew no change. Our very outward 
 adorning takes on something of our inner nature, and 
 Josie, calm, unruffled, self-contained, would have 
 passed through a fiery furnace unscathed. So it 
 seemed to poor, foolish, impulsive Katey, who, from 
 gown to heart, reflected every beam of sunshine about 
 her, or was wrapped in every cloud. 
 
 Some one rose as she paused in the drawing-room 
 door, her hat, with its wreath of lilies, sliding down to 
 her feet. "Ah!" she gasped. She was not nice 
 for company. That was her first thought. Her hat, 
 in its descent, had caught the comb which held her 
 hair. " Sabrina ! " Dacre uttered under his breath. 
 " You remember Dacre, I am sure," was Delphine's 
 more commonplace greeting, trying to put them upon 
 familiar terms at once by this frank use of his name.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 109 
 
 Katey answered coldly, bowing formally as she 
 passed on, at which Delphine stared. It is hard 
 when one has arranged a play, and begins to pull the 
 strings, to find that the puppets throw out an arm in- 
 stead of a foot, or, worse still, turn their backs upon 
 each other. But to Katey it was a charade, in which 
 she was to improvise her own part, only, unfortunate- 
 ly she and Delphine had not chosen the same word. 
 There was an awkward moment, then Dacre excused 
 himself and went away. 
 
 " Why did you do so ? " said Mrs. Estemere, when 
 he had gone. " Why should you not be kind and 
 pleasant to him ? " 
 
 "Why should I?" Katey replied, with a jarring 
 chord in her voice ; " he was anything but kind and 
 pleasant to us when we were children." 
 
 " Good gracious Katey ! You don't mean that you 
 have laid anything by to bring up against him after all 
 these years?" Delphine looked at her as though 
 Katey had developed the spirit of a Lucretia Borgia. 
 
 " No," Katey replied, slowly. " But I wish he would 
 go away." 
 
 " I am afraid that is a very wicked spirit," said Mrs. 
 Estemere, severely. Her quickly devised scheme 
 seemed toppling to the ground already. 
 
 " I don't know ; I don't wish him any harm, I am 
 sure," Katey replied, in a softer voice. " I should be 
 glad to know he was doing well. But I should prefer 
 it to be a great way off." Then she laughed, bending 
 over Delphine, and giving her a kiss. " It is silly and 
 childish, I know," she added, " and I'll do differently 
 another time, since you wish it." 
 
 " Perhaps there will not be another time," replied
 
 110 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Delphine, rather coldly. " His stay is extremely un- 
 certain. He said to-night that he ought to go." 
 
 " Then why don't he ? " Katey rejoined, quickly. 
 " I'm sure we are not keeping him." 
 
 " He has other friends here, I presume." 
 " Very likely ; " and then Katey went on arranging 
 her lilies, and nothing more was said of their visitor.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. \\\ 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHERE MORE IS MEANT THAN MEETS THE EAR. 
 
 BUT Dacre did not go. The days passed on, heavy, 
 yet sweet, like the scent of tropical flowers, idle 
 summer days beside a summer sea, and Katey met 
 him continually sometimes as they rolled along the 
 wide, smooth avenue, themselves no insignificant part 
 of the brilliant pageant spread out here upon a bright 
 afternoon ; sometimes as they came like mermaids out 
 of the sea ; or more often in the twilight, when they 
 sat in unpremeditated state to receive their visitors, 
 enthroned in the bright red chairs upon the veranda. 
 Ho was always alone. Where are the friends for 
 whom he has staid ? Katy thought, wondering not a 
 little over his forlorn appearance. But at sight of 
 them his dark face would brighten for the moment, 
 the cloud of discontent or ill-humor being dispelled by 
 Delphine's cheerful greeting. Katey was still chary 
 of her smiles. He seemed to her like a dark spot 
 upon the beautiful landscape. " 1 think he is unhap- 
 py," Delphine said. But Katey believed that he 
 moped ; and to mope when one is young and strong 
 seemed to her the height of folly, if not of sin. Often 
 he lingered for a moment beside them ; then she would 
 try to bo gracious, remembering her promise to Del- 
 phine, but utterly failing in the attempt. Her manners
 
 112 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 had not yet hardened into the crust which wo all 
 wear later in life. So far, every emotion, every pre- 
 judice would show through. 
 
 " You do not like me," he said, boldly, one night, 
 finding her upon the veranda alone. 
 
 " Why should I ? " she replied ; then, frightened at 
 herself, she added, quickly, "Why should I not?" 
 
 " I commend your wisdom," and he threw himself 
 down upon the steps at her feet, " but I wish you 
 would." 
 
 He quite forgot the connection between his sen- 
 tences, as he raised to her the face which appeared 
 almost boyish in the softening light. There was a 
 laugh upon his lips ; but the depth and pleading of his 
 eyes gave it the lie. 
 
 Katey stared, the warm color flying into her face. 
 This was not at all as the young men she had met were 
 accustomed to address her. "I I am sure I wish 
 you well," she said, hesitatingly, and with a quaver of 
 embarrassment in her voice. It was a stiff, old-fash- 
 ioned sentence, and sounded prim and strange in her 
 own ears ; but the words were the first which came 
 to her. 
 
 " So you do your bitterest enemy, I suppose," he 
 replied. " Only you can have no enemy, I know," he 
 added, gently. 
 
 Then Delphine appeared, with a nutter and sweep 
 of soft muslin and lace, and Katey breathed again. 
 But he bent over her hand when he rose to say good 
 night. " We are to be friends ; you are not angry ? " 
 he asked in a low voice. 
 
 " 0, no, no," Katey replied, hurriedly, drawing her 
 hand away. What if Delphine should see ? Which 
 question had she answered ? She hardly knew.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 113 
 
 They sat here until the darkness enveloped them 
 and the stars twinkled down : but Katey did not tell 
 Delphine what had passed between Dacre and herself. 
 And, indeed, was there anything to tell ? But the ice 
 in her heart had begun to melt. What were his 
 boyish pride and superciliousness, that she should have 
 remembered them all these years ? she thought, re- 
 proaching herself that night, when she was taking off 
 her ornaments and letting down her hair. Once, 
 during the evening, Dobry had passed the open door 
 with a lamp in her hand ; the flaring rays of light had 
 fallen upon his face. How sad it was ! Katey forgot 
 that she had said he moped, as she gave him a sigh 
 from the depths of her gentle heart. Yes, the ice 
 was beginning to melt. 
 
 This marked the commencement of a new order of 
 events. He began now to appear at the cottage at all 
 hours of the day, and some which verged upon the 
 night. He leaned over the sill of the low bay-window, 
 and drank coffee with them in the morning. He fer- 
 reted out an old guitar from some dingy shop in the 
 town, and sang quaint, weird songs in the twilight to 
 a low accompaniment, which set strange chords to 
 vibrating in Katey's heart ; he walked, and rode, and 
 bathed in their company ; he became, in more senses 
 than one, Katey's shadow. But she made use of every 
 innocent artifice to avoid meeting him alone. What 
 might he not say ? After that first evening all dread- 
 ful possibilities seemed open to him. She had had no 
 experience with lovers. She did not even question 
 in her own mind if it were love he meant, though she 
 was so shy of meeting him ; and yet, after a time, she 
 was conscious of a bond between them. 
 8
 
 114 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " You will do this, I know/' he said, one day, asking 
 some slight favor, worthless in itself. 
 
 " Why will I ? " and Katey opened her great eyes 
 upon him. 
 
 He bent over the fastening of her glove. " Be- 
 cause 0, I don't know; I wish you would." And 
 she did it. 
 
 She was a foolish Katey. So she confessed to her- 
 self a little later, when the bond had strengthened 
 more and more, and held her like a chain. Delphine, 
 seeing the play go on after her own heart, rejoiced in- 
 wardly, looking farther into the future than Katey, 
 who hardly realized that her feet were snared, so 
 pleasant was the land about her. 
 
 " You do not wish him to go away now, to do 
 well a long way off? " she said, archly, one day. The 
 temptation to triumph over the success of her little 
 scheme was too great, for the moment, to be resisted. 
 
 Katey's brown cheek flamed crimson. " I wish I 
 don't know what I wish." 
 
 She rose, hurriedly, and went out of the room. "What 
 did Delphine mean ? What was it all the summer, 
 the strange charm, and yet pain, which had stolen into 
 her life ? How would it end ? For the summer was 
 almost over. Only a few days more, and they would 
 go their several ways Delphine back to her city 
 home, she to try her own strength, which seemed 
 feeble enough, as the time drew near. Reluctantly, 
 Delphine had given her consent, and Katey had sought 
 and found a position in a school three hundred miles, 
 at least, from Delphine's home. Even Jack's unwill- 
 ing sanction had at last been gained. She was to 
 leave before the others. And Dacre ? How little she
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 115 
 
 knew of his life ! Why did she doubt him so at times ? 
 Where would he go ? Should she ever see him again? 
 As the time drew near when they were to separate, 
 his manner became more and more strange and va- 
 riable, his moods beyond all comprehension. " I am 
 a wretch, Katey," he said, one day, in so humble and 
 hopeless a tone that Katey's tender heart was touched 
 with pity for the warm-hearted, wayward boy, whom 
 nobody welcomed, as Delphine had said, and whom 
 nobody tried to save. What was the cloud which 
 hung over him ? If she only dared ask ! Could it be 
 that there was something in his past life which he 
 shrank from telling something which haunted him, 
 and yet of which he could not speak ? To Katey, 
 whose innocent history was like a chained book in an 
 old chapel, the -leaves of which any one might turn at 
 will, the thought was too dreadful to be entertained. 
 Who were his friends and associates ? Even Delphine 
 confessed that she Uad failed to learn. Certainly he 
 had none here save themselves. " But ho will go 
 home now," Mrs. Estemere said, to ease her mind of 
 a sharp doubt as to the wisdom of the intimacy she 
 had fostered and encouraged ; " he will go home to his 
 father's house." It was only a few days before that 
 he had spoken of it. 
 
 Dacre and Katey strolled on up the narrow streets 
 of the old town. " Yes, I am a wretch," ho repeated. 
 It seemed as though ho would say more ; but ho 
 checked himself. 
 
 " One would think you had broken all the command- 
 ments." Katey spoke lightly, but there was an anx- 
 ious tone in her voice. 
 
 " I believe I have forgotten what they are," he re- 
 plied, with a little bitter laugh.
 
 116 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 "Don't," said Katey; "it hurts me to hear you 
 speak so." 
 
 Some one turned the corner in their faces at that 
 moment a gentleman, not young, as girls of twenty 
 reckon youth, of medium height, squarely built, with 
 a strong, frank face, shaded on either side by a heavy, 
 red-brown beard. A pair of keen gray eyes, under a 
 heavy forehead, were fastened for an instant upon 
 Katey's pained, anxious face, with its frame of pretty, 
 dark hair and soft, violet ribbons. Ah, he thought, is 
 it so? reading a story in the sweet, girlish counte- 
 nance, which wore no mask. As his glance passed 
 quickly to Dacre, his forehead gathered into a frown ; 
 he almost checked his steps ; then he half bowed, and 
 passed on. 
 
 Katey, too, had made, involuntarily, a movement to 
 stop. " Who was it ? " she asked, startled into forget- 
 fulness of what had gone before. " He recognized you. 
 I thought he was going to speak." 
 
 But Dacre had been too much absorbed to notice. 
 "I don't know;" and he looked back, carelessly. 
 " More likely it was you who caught his eye. I only 
 wonder he passed on." 
 
 Katey did not smile over the flattery implied in his 
 words. She was lost in thought. She was haunted by 
 the expression of the man's face. Why had he scowled 
 upon Dacre ? Delphine said the world had judged him 
 harshly. How or why, Katey had never asked. So 
 the world looked coldly upon him ! She had never re- 
 alized what that could mean until now, when she felt 
 her face grow hot. She laid her hand timidly in his 
 arm. " I believe I am tired," she said, by way of ex- 
 
 CUriO.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 117 
 
 His face brightened at once. The unhappy mood 
 vanished like the sudden disappearance of a morning 
 fog. They went on up the tortuous streets and broad, 
 shaded avenues, and he, at least, was gay as though no 
 care or regret had ever rested on him. 
 
 He left her at Josie Durant's door. But Josie had 
 gone over to Mrs. Estemere's cottage ; so Katey walked 
 slowly home across the lawn, saddened in spite of her- 
 self, and full of vague fears. Perhaps it was an old, 
 childish habit revived ; perhaps it was one of those 
 strange premonitions which no one can explain ; but 
 foremost in her mind at this moment pressed the ques- 
 tion, What will Jack say ? 
 
 As if to answer for himself, he met her face to face 
 as she stepped upon the veranda. He had arrived 
 while she was out. Dear old Jack ! The freckles were 
 gone now ; the forehead was broad, and whiter than 
 Katey's where the short, dark curls shaded it. The 
 eyes still glinted like sparks of fire. Katey's heart 
 warmed with pride and pleasure at sight of him. He 
 seized and kissed her with affectionate roughness, and 
 drew her through the long, open window, into the 
 pretty little drawing-room, where Delphine sat alone. 
 
 " What is this about your going away so soon ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " I don't know, only I am going to-morrow," Katey 
 replied. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " Jack was still chary of words ; but 
 there is force as well as wit in brevity. 
 
 " So I tell her," Delphine hastened to add ; though, 
 in truth, Delphine had never uttered so brief a sen- 
 tence. " It is a foolish whim ; I supposed, of course, 
 she would stay with us until she married." 
 
 " But if I shouldn't marry? "
 
 118 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 "Everybody marries," Delphine replied, "except 
 women with spheres, and those who are born to be 
 old maids." 
 
 " I wonder if Elsie Bird was born to be an old 
 maid," said Katey, thoughtfully. "Delphine, how 
 lovely she was in spirit and in all her ways ! " 
 
 " Her lover died, I believe," Delphine answered. 
 
 Jack had thrown himself into an easy-chair, and lit 
 a cigar ; for the cosy little drawing-room was smoking- 
 room as well, unbounded liberty being the rule in 
 Delphine's home. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, Katey," he broke in now, 
 " don't be a woman with a sphere, or I'll disown you." 
 
 " I have no desire to be a woman with a sphere," 
 returned Katey, " and I have been very happy with 
 Robert and Delphine, and I should like to come and 
 stay with you and Josie by and by, I am sure, only I 
 should like to do something for myself first. Do let 
 me try it for a little while. Delphine has been too 
 kind. I do nothing but dress, and fold my hands, and 
 try to look pretty, and I believe I am tired of it. I 
 want to do a bit of real hard work, as as I used to," 
 she added, with a little quaver in her voice^ thinking 
 of the old home and the cares which had rested upon 
 the girlish shoulders. 
 
 " Well, but why can't you work here ? " persisted 
 Jack. "Where are all the fol-de-rols women busy 
 themselves about? Where's your sewing?" 
 
 " Delphine puts out our dresses, and the seamstress 
 in the house does the rest. I do sew, just to make 
 myself busy sometimes ; and sometimes I arrange the 
 drawing-room, though she says one of the servants 
 could do it as well. Jack," Katey turned upon him
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 119 
 
 suddenly, " how should you like to saw wood, for in- 
 stance, simply for the sake of doing something, when 
 no one wanted the wood ? " 
 
 " Wouldn't do it," returned Jack. Then removing 
 his cigar, " But some one always does want the wood. 
 You can give it away, you know." 
 
 " Yes," assented Katey, slowly. " And I could work 
 for charity, I suppose. But I can't. I don't feel 
 called. I don't know any poor people, and I don't en- 
 joy societies; I cannot attend meetings women's 
 meetings, I mean. Perhaps I am wicked, but I want 
 to laugh always. And as for holding an office " 
 
 " But some one is obliged to," interrupted Del- 
 phine, who was herself vice-president of a benevolent 
 society. 
 
 " Yes, I know," replied Katey, " but they enjoy it. 
 They feel it a duty as well, but they like it. Indeed, 
 that is one sign of a true call to any work, I think ; 
 and I haven't it, Jack I haven't it at all." And 
 Katey, upon the hassock at his feet, clasped her hands 
 around her knees in childish fashion, and turned so 
 sorry U face to him with this confession, that Jack 
 laughed aloud. The idea of Katey sitting gravely in 
 committee, or presiding over a meeting of any kind, 
 was too absurd to be considered. 
 
 Delphine, however, viewed the matter more seri- 
 ously. " But you need not attend societies in order 
 to exercise charity," she said. " There is Janie Home, 
 who visits regularly the families in the lower part of 
 the village where she has gone to Jive ; sees that their 
 houses and their families are neat, and 
 
 " What impertinence ! " exclaimed Katey. " Think 
 of walking into people's houses without right or invite-
 
 120 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 tion, and advising in family affairs, simply because 
 their doors are narrower and dirtier than ours 1 " 
 
 Jack laughed again. 
 
 " It is so ; is it not? " Katey went on, appealing to 
 him. " I took Delphine's place one week last winter, 
 and went with one of her friends down through the 
 back streets of the town as a visiting committee. We 
 were to ring each bell, and call upon every family if 
 possible, find out if they attended church, and if their 
 children were in Sunday school. I don't know how 
 the- others proceeded, but I apologized at every door 
 for the intrusion, and felt that it was only natural 
 and just, when a tall, raw-boned woman barred our 
 'entrance to one house, and said, with a kind of enraged 
 self-respect, ' An' what if I don't, miss ? ' in answer to 
 our question." 
 
 " But you should not have done so," said Mrs. Este- 
 mere. " I always make some excuse, or ask permission 
 to go in. Then I speak to the children, give them 
 candy, and if there is a pot of flowers or a print to 
 ornament the room, notice that, and so gradually ap- 
 proach the object of my visit." 
 
 " But Delphine, dear, what if a stranger should walk 
 into your drawing-room, admire Launce, feed him with 
 chocolate- creams, which you know always make him 
 ill, criticise your Gdrome, comment upon the weather, 
 and crown all with a modest hope that you were using 
 these blessings without abusing them, and were fitting 
 yourself for another and better world, saying that it 
 was to express this hope she had called ! I am sure 
 you would ask the servant to show her the door." 
 
 " But that is different," laughed Delphine. " They 
 do not often resent our visits."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 121 
 
 " Then ^they can have no self-respect," persisted 
 Katey. 
 
 Delphine shook her head. " It may be so some- 
 times," she said, "but we often find poor, forlorn, 
 broken-spirited creatures, who are only too glad to 
 hear a kind word from any one." 
 
 " Yes, perhaps so," assented Katey, slowly, remem- 
 bering at least one such experience of her own. 
 
 " I shall yet boast of my sister, who is laboring 
 among the heathen," laughed Jack, pinching Katey's 
 ear. 
 
 " 0, never," she replied, gravely. " I am not good 
 enough, and I am ashamed to say I do not feel drawn 
 towards the heathen that is, foreign heathen," she 
 added, remembering Dacre. " I am only a little rest- 
 less and proud," she went on, with a laugh. " I want 
 to do something for myself. So Robert and Delphine 
 say I may try. I wrote you about the advertisement, 
 and Robert went to La Fayette to see the school, and 
 use his influence to gain the position for me. I am 
 engaged to teach the younger children, and I go to- 
 morrow," she concluded, with a quick gasp, which 
 might have been due to breathlessness after her hur- 
 ried speech, or fright at the prospect so near. 
 
 "You are not fit to take care of yourself," was 
 Jack's final comment. "You'll do something foolish 
 or unheard of away off there." 
 
 " O, no," said Katey, quickly. She was much more 
 likely to do so if she remained here, she thought. 
 What would he say if he knew about Dacre Home ? 
 If she only dared tell him ! And yet, what was there 
 to tell ? 
 
 Delphine mentioned Dacre's name casually as they
 
 122 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 were going out to tea. " What is he doing here ? " 
 said Jack, sharply, making Katey's heart cease to beat 
 for the moment. 0, how thankful she was that he had 
 not come before ! Or did she wish that Delphine and 
 she had never been left to themselves ? 
 
 Josie Durant, who had staid to tea, gave her a sharp 
 little glance as Jack uttered the question, to which no 
 one replied. Launce, hanging upon his mother's chair, 
 would have spoken, but Delphine checked him. This 
 was not the time to open the subject, she saw, and she 
 let it pass. 
 
 Katey felt Josie's glance as she bent over her plate. 
 Josie's clear little head had taken in everything, 
 Delphine's scheme, Katey's doubt and hesitation, and 
 surrender at last, though there had been no confi- 
 dence between Katey and herself. How could there 
 be when there was no sympathy ? Miss Durant had 
 disapproved of it all from the first. She would have 
 interfered if she had dared ; but she was not yet one 
 of the family, and how could she set herself in oppo- 
 sition to Delphine, or act the part of a tale-bearer, and 
 write to Jack ? 
 
 There was to be a gathering of their summer friends 
 at the Dr.rants' that evening, too informal to be called 
 a party, though there would be music and dancing, 
 and Josie had offered to return and spend the night 
 with Katey, who chafed against it all this last even- 
 ing ! And Dacre would not be at the party. All 
 through the summer Miss Durant had quietly ignored 
 him. He had received no invitation, Katey knew, and 
 she had said nothing to him of the engagement for the 
 evening. Should she see him again ? The train she 
 was to take left at an early hour in the morning
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 123 
 
 almost at daybreak. Even if he came to the cot- 
 tage to-night, it might be only to find her gone, or, 
 more dreadful still, to meet Jack face to face. It was 
 a relief to see Jack cross the lawn with Josie while 
 she still lingered over her toilet. Delphine followed 
 them presently. " You will come over soon, I sup- 
 pose," she called to Katey ; " I have promised Josie 
 to help her arrange some flowers." She had marked 
 Katey's nervous manner, and divined something of the 
 truth. She quaked inwardly, remembering the tone 
 of Jack's voice when she had mentioned Dacre's name ; 
 but it was too late to go back now. She would give 
 them one more chance to meet, and she hastened over 
 to the Durants' cottage strong in the determination to 
 keep Jack well employed for the next hour, so that he 
 should have no opportunity to return for Katey.
 
 124 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 PITY'S AKIN TO LOVE. 
 
 THE pale violet ribbons had been laid aside ; but 
 the scarlet geraniums in her hair were not more 
 vivid than the red on Katey's cheek, as she stood, 
 fluttering and faint-hearted, just within the open win- 
 dow, when they had all gone, listening to every step 
 upon the gravel before the door. Perhaps he would 
 not come. It would be better for her, she knew, if he 
 never came again. A spasm of sense and reason had 
 seized her in the midst of the excitement of the mo- 
 ment. And yet she waited. 
 
 He came at last. She ran down the stairs to meet 
 him. He must not stay. It would not do for Jack to 
 return and find him here Jack, who was hot-headed 
 and rash, and would say she knew not what. Dacre 
 had heard nothing of his arrival. She told him now, 
 as they stood in the doorway, showing all her appre- 
 hension in her face as she made the announcement, 
 with a fearful glance over the way, whei-e a soft light 
 shone from the open windows through the closed 
 shutters. The high, wide veranda was peopled with 
 moving shadows already. The first strains of the 
 music rose upon the still air, mingling with the gentle 
 sweep and fall of the surf over the deserted sands. 
 
 " I must go," Katey said, at last. " There is com-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 125 
 
 pany at the other house ; they will miss me." She 
 offered no excuse for his having been left out. They 
 had reached a point beyond conventionalities. 
 
 He walked beside her, across to the other cottage. 
 They passed the broad flight of steps leading up to the 
 veranda, and reached the side door in silence. Katey 
 held out her hand. It was to be like the parting of 
 ordinary acquaintances, then ? What had she ex- 
 pected ? What had she hoped for ? It was better 
 so ; yet something in her throat choked the words she 
 tried to say. All the past summer, bewildering and 
 sweet, rose before her at that moment. Where would 
 he go, from her, and to whom? She felt, as they 
 stood that one instant with clasped hands in the soft 
 darkness, the laughing voices coming out to them 
 through the closed shutters, they two alone that, 
 beyond the shadows enveloping them, an awful gulf 
 yawned and waited for him. 0, if she could but 
 hold him back ! 
 
 He bent his head as she stood above him, and laid 
 his cheek upon her hand. So like a boy he was! 
 Would nobody try to save him ? 
 
 " It is only ' good by,' Katey ; " and there was a 
 strange, hoarse tone in his voice. "I like you too 
 well to say anything else. I ought to have gone be- 
 fore ; I knew it all the time." 
 
 His lips touched her hand. Then she was alone. 
 
 " Dacre 1 " Her voice, shrill and sharp, rang out 
 into the night. In a moment he was beside her. " 0, 
 where are you going ? What will become of you ? " 
 
 She had forgotten the open windows. Some one 
 pulled up a blind. " I thought I heard a cry," said 
 a voice. He drew her into the shadow of the door-
 
 126 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 way as Josie Durant leaned out to listen. " It is noth- 
 ing," .Miss Durant said, calmly, addressing some one 
 behind her, and dropping the blind noisily. But Katey 
 knew that she had seen them. 
 
 There was a general movement within. It was only 
 the cessation of the momentary stillness, but to Katey 
 the voices drew near. " They are coming ; I must 
 go," she exclaimed in a frightened whisper. 
 
 He caught her in his arms. " Katey ! Katey ! I 
 shall come to you I shall see you ! " Then he was 
 gone. 
 
 The music had begun again when she entered the 
 drawing-room. They were forming a set upon the 
 veranda. " Where did you hide yourself? " asked 
 Jack, leading her out ; " or have you but just come ? 
 I was going over to look you up, but Delphine thought 
 you must be here somewhere." 
 
 Fortunately there was a flourish of trumpets at this 
 moment; the dance had begun, and, in following its 
 mazes, with a lugubrious air, droll to see, Jack who 
 still hated parties and everything pertaining to them 
 forgot his question. It was a long, tiresome even- 
 ing to Katey, in spite of the music, the pleasant, softly- 
 lighted rooms, and cheerful company. She stole away 
 at last to the shelter of a deep window. Here, with her 
 elbow upon the sill, her cheek in her hand, her face 
 turned towards the sea, across which streamed a faint 
 line of light from the white moon overhead, she 
 dreamed her dream undistubed. " Katey ! Katey ! " 
 she heard again, above the gay voices floating in upon 
 her, above the hushed roar of the surf which filled 
 in every pause. 0, she would trust him ! forgetting 
 that the truest trust is involuntary.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 127 
 
 Josie sought her out. " What are you doing here ? " 
 she said. " Do try and rouse yourself, Katey. What 
 will people think? That strange gentleman has been 
 staring at you for the last ten minutes." 
 
 " Who is he ? " and Katey forgot her momentary 
 resentment at Josie's tone, to stare in turn after the 
 broad, square figure vanishing through the doorway. 
 She had caught a glimpse of a red-brown beard, and 
 a pair of deep-set gray eyes. Where had she seen them 
 before ? Then she remembered. It was the gentle- 
 man who had recognized Dacre Home upon the street 
 that afternoon. 
 
 " I don't know," Josie answered, carelessly. " Some 
 friend of the Fosters, I believe. I have forgotten his 
 name. But I must go ; I have to sing." 
 
 The Fosters were already making their adieus when 
 they returned to the drawing-room. Once more Katey 
 felt the searching eyes fixed upon her, as their owner, 
 behind Mrs. Foster's broad shoulders, awaited his 
 turn. It almost seemed as though he would speak to 
 her. A shadow of irresolution crossed his face ; he 
 turned to Miss Durant ; but Katey had moved away, 
 something very hot and fierce rising within her at 
 the recollection of the scowl he had bestowed upon 
 Dacre. When she looked again the whole party had 
 left the room. 
 
 Jack took her home before the company finally 
 broke up, and Delphino soon followed. Josio came 
 later, mounting the stairs with a slow step, which 
 set Katey 's heart to beating with apprehension. She 
 had watched the lights go out over the way after 
 the last guest had departed. She had seen the 
 musicians with their queer, distorted burdens, steal
 
 128 CATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 out like robbers, and vanish among the trees. Even 
 Jack had crossed the lawn, and the odor of his cigar 
 came up to her now from below. She had watched 
 them all through the parted curtains, hoping, yet 
 hardly daring to hope, that Josie would not come, 
 after all. But Josie, it seemed, had only lingered to 
 make some change in her dress. She came in now, 
 as Katey stood before the glass brushing out her 
 hair, a little white sacque tied by the sleeves loosely 
 about her neck, her arms, with their pretty cream 
 tint, bare and raised above her head, as she went on 
 without turning from the glass, shaking out the heavy 
 braids into shining waves, which fell over her shoul- 
 ders and about her face. 
 
 " Well, Katey ? " and Josie threw back the little 
 shawl wrapped around her, and settled herself in an 
 arm-chair with a judicial air. She did not intend to 
 appear severe ; she even tried to make her tone gentle 
 and conciliatory ; but she had failed, she knew as soon 
 as the words passed her lips. 
 
 " Is it about Dacre ? " Katey's eyes were very 
 bright and full as she faced her friend. 
 
 " Or say for thee I'll die or say for thee I'll die ! " 
 
 sang some half-drunken reveller, strolling up from the 
 cliff. " I can't tell you," she went on ; " don't ask me, 
 please." She had made up her mind while Josie 
 was slowly mounting the stairs. She could not deny 
 what her friend had seen with her own eyes, and yet 
 what was there to acknowledge ? 
 
 " 0, very well," Josie replied, coldly. Of course I 
 don't wish to force your confidence." 
 
 " But don't look at me so," cried poor Katey, who
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 129 
 
 desired, like the most of us, to be trusted, even though 
 blindly. She stooped suddenly, and kissed her friend. 
 But Miss Durant had little appreciation of enigmas, 
 and none whatever of impulsive ways. Her gentle 
 emotions were all reducible, and could be explained 
 upon fixed principles. " I don't understand you ; " and 
 she moved away from Katey's caress, speaking as 
 though it were a matter of surprise that she did not, 
 the surprise always awakened in people by new 
 developments in the friends they have weighed and 
 passed judgment upon, a surprise not unmingled 
 with displeasure, as though an unfair advantage had 
 been taken of them by these untimely revelations. 
 But Katcy did not think it strange. She by no 
 means understood herself. Her mind, so far, seemed 
 made up of questions which later years would, per- 
 haps, answer. 
 
 " I think you might trust me," she said, slowly. 
 
 "Why, how can I when you tell me nothing?" 
 exclaimed Miss Durant. 
 
 " That wouldn't be trusting ; that would be know- 
 ing," Katey replied. Then she went on brushing out 
 her hair, and preparing for the night, and nothing 
 more was said. She wondered if Josie would tell 
 Jack; but she would not ask. To do so would 
 appear as though she were afraid or ashamed. 
 
 The next morning, when she leaned out from the 
 window of the railway car to exchange last words 
 with her friends, her eyes were searching the dusky 
 length of the great, dark station, imagining every 
 dimly-defined form to be that of Dacre. He might 
 be very near, if she did but know it. He might even 
 be in the seat before her. For in the darkness no
 
 130 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 one could recognize his neighbor, and the shooting out 
 of the train presently into the light of day would be 
 like unmasking at a ball. It was a dull, wet day. 
 The rain dripped outside and overhead upon the dingy 
 panes of glass far up in the mammoth roof. She 
 could not hear it for the shrieking of the trains and 
 the hurried tread of passing feet; but the figures 
 huddled together in the dim light, half hidden by 
 the cloud of smoke and vapor, which, settling down, 
 added to the gloom of the place, were wrapped 
 against the chill and wet out of all individually. 
 
 Katey watched them with something more than 
 idle curiosity as they darted hither and thither, 
 pressing in turn close to the windows of the car, 
 discerning friends by some subtle intuition, rather 
 than by the exercise of the outward senses ; then, 
 falling back, to stand motionless, a solid phalanx, as 
 the train moved slowly out and away. There were 
 a few dim lights burning through the cars; some 
 had nickered and gone out; but one still shone 
 brightly over Katey's head, bringing out, like a pic- 
 ture in strong colors, the slight figure bent towards 
 the window, wrapped in a little bright shawl, the 
 mass of dark hair pushed back, the absorbed, question- 
 ing eyes; and it threw a line of light across the 
 faces being left slowly behind, making strange, un- 
 expected revelations in the countenances whose own- 
 ers believed them hidden still by the darkness 
 the inner thought creeping out. And there were 
 people who had bade their friends adieu in mock 
 sorrow, being really glad for them to go, and the 
 gladness showed now. And there was a lover, who 
 had not dared say all he wished to his mistress at
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 131 
 
 parting ; but she might read it in his face now if she 
 would only look. And there were sorrow, and dis- 
 appointment, and even anger, if Katey could have 
 read them all. But she searched for Dacre alone. 
 He was not there, nor in the train when they had 
 moved out into the dull daylight, and were speed- 
 ing on their way. She was doubly sure when an 
 hour had passed, and still he did not appear ; and with 
 a sense, if not of relief, at least of cessation of the 
 strain of eager, painful expectation, she curled her- 
 self into the corner of the seat she shared with no 
 one, and prepared to take the rest she needed so 
 greatly. She might doze through all the long day, 
 if she chose ; it would be late in the afternoon be- 
 fore they reached the junction where she was to 
 change cars for La Fayette. So, with every tense 
 nerve relaxed, and her cheek pillowed upon the 
 little red shawl, she sank into a profound sleep.
 
 132 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 SHE awoke after an hour or two, rested and re- 
 freshed, and, still lying back in her corner, began 
 to scan the passengers within the range of her vision 
 with the curious eyes of one who has seen little of 
 the world. They were all uninteresting, even to her 
 active fancy, with the exception of a party just before 
 her, and a jiinber-jawed woman in a black bonnet, 
 over the way, who had come from New Hampshire 
 alone, and was pouring the story of her troubles in re- 
 gard to some error in her ticket, as well as various 
 side issues, into the sympathizing ear of a question- 
 able-looking young man, who occupied the seat before 
 her. Various bits of this confidence floated into Katey's 
 ears, as well as the amused " Just so, just so, ma'am," 
 of the young man. The woman had a flurried, ner- 
 vous manner, and grasped with both hands a very 
 large paper parcel lying in her lap \ but though her 
 story went on, in a shrill, penetrating voice, without 
 cessation, she yet eyes had and ears for everything 
 about her, and was constantly being overcome with 
 gratitude for what she considered personal favors. 
 14 No, I thank you, my dear ; " to the itinerant ice- 
 water boy. " But how very kind it was of him to think 
 of it ! " she soliloquized. She apologized to the vender
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 133 
 
 of books for not buying his wares, assuring him that 
 they looked " very pretty, but, you see, I don't find 
 much time to read, any way, and I expect to be 
 tolerably busy where I am going." She exhausted the 
 patience of the meek-faced conductor by her repeated 
 questions, assuring him, at the end of each colloquy, 
 that she had travelled all the way from New Hamp- 
 shire alone. There came a change, however; the 
 meek-faced conductor disappeared at some cross-road, 
 and an official of enormous proportions and a decidedly 
 military air took his place. Ho slammed the door 
 after him, as he entered the car, with the mildness of a 
 clap of thunder. He ejaculated, " Tickets ! " like a 
 startling sneeze. Every sleepy eye opened wide. 
 Every hand involuntarily grasped its bit of pasteboard, 
 offering it abjectly at his approach. Not so the jimber- 
 jawed woman. She raised her voice above the noise 
 of the train as lie drew near, and began her story : 
 
 " I've come all the way from " 
 
 He seized her ticket, gave it a violent and vicious 
 punch, thrust it into her hand again, and was half 
 way down the aisle before she had succeeded in utter- 
 ing, " New Hampshire." 
 
 " Well ! " She stared after him in a bewildered way, 
 straightening the black bonnet, which had become dis- 
 placed as though it had shrunk back of its own ac- 
 cord at the approach of this awful personage. But 
 she was neither discouraged nor dismayed. She bided 
 her time. He came again. There was a perceptible 
 hush throughout the car, a spasmodic clutching of 
 tickets at that resounding slam of the door. Then tho 
 jimber-jawed woman rose and leaned forward, a feeblo 
 simper called up by some instinct of feminine con-
 
 134 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 eciousness spreading over her countenance. " Snap, 
 snap : " the Great Mogul drew near. She opened her 
 mouth as he turned towards her with an outstretched, 
 impatient hand. "I've come all the way Sud- 
 denly he seemed to swell and fill the place. His face 
 was awful to contemplate. He raised one finger. 
 " Sit down ! " he ejaculated, in a voice of thunder ; and 
 a confused heap of black bonnet and brown paper 
 parcel dropped speechless upon the seat. The jimber- 
 jawed woman was conscious of the real presence at 
 last. 
 
 There was a hastily suppressed laugh just before 
 her, and Katey, turning her face quickly, was struck 
 by a pair of bright eyes, as well as by the odd appear- 
 ance of the whole party J who had, from the first, at- 
 tracted her attention, and aroused her curiosity. 
 
 They were four in all; a father, son, and two 
 daughters, she judged, from a certain resemblance 
 among them. There was a similarity as well in 
 their rather fantastic attire ; in which short, braided 
 jackets and knee-breeches upon the men, with deep, 
 pointed collars and a profusion of flowing hair, were 
 most conspicuous. The costume of the two girls 
 one of whom was extremely delicate in appearance 
 was not less singular. Their bright blue jackets were 
 more elaborately braided than were those of their 
 father and brother, wlu'ch were of a coarser fabric. 
 Their short black petticoats just revealed the neat lit- 
 tle boots, oddly laced over bright red stockings, and 
 their long, abundant hair was braided, and hung down 
 in a simple fashion, obsolete enough to have been re- 
 marked a dozen years ago. 
 
 The whole party wore queer, high-pointed hats,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 135 
 
 from each of which hung a variegated cord and tassel, 
 and attracted naturally not a little attention. The 
 dreadful conductor alone gave them no second glance. 
 
 There was something singularly open and winning 
 in their faces, especially in that of the sick girl, who 
 had removed her hat, and lay back upon a pillow im- 
 provised from cloaks and wraps, tenderly, almost anx- 
 iously, watched over by the others. 
 
 Katey wondered at their strange appearance. Who 
 and what were they ? Play-actors, perhaps ; but cer- 
 tainly no play-actors ever travelled about in so strange 
 a garb. Her curiosity increased as the day wore 
 away and they neared the junction where she was to 
 change cars and leave her odd companions. But no ; 
 they, too, were gathering up wraps and parcels as the 
 last station before the junction was passed. There 
 was a movement throughout the car the rising and 
 stretching of benumbed forms, the hasty gathering of 
 detached belongings, the bustle of near departure or 
 change ; even the jimbered-jawed woman had re- 
 covered speech again, and Katey had folded the little 
 red shawl over her arm, and replaced the book in her 
 satchel, which she had been too idle to read, when all 
 at once there came a strange, jarring shock, throwing 
 those already upon their feet to their seats again, fol- 
 lowed by what would have been utter suspension of 
 sound or motion but for the exclamations and confusion 
 suddenly awakened. Katey, recovering herself as the 
 crowd pressed by, spoke aloud involuntarily : " 0, what 
 is it ? What has happened ? " 
 
 " There is no occasion for alarm." 
 
 It was the little old gentleman in the high-pointed 
 hat who answered her. He was raising the sick girl
 
 13 6 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 in his arms. He bore her out, followed by the others 
 of the family, with whom Katey found herself. 
 
 " She has fainted," he said, laying his charge down 
 tenderly in the shadow of the high bank beside the 
 road. But even as he spoke the sick girl opened her 
 eyes and smiled upon Katey, who was bending over 
 her. " It is nothing ; do not be alarmed," she said, 
 in a gentle voice, which quite won Katey's heart. 
 
 The young man of the odd party had followed the 
 crowd up the road. He came back now to say that 
 there had been a slight accident, which would probably 
 detain them for an hour or two, or until assistance 
 should arrive from the junction. 
 
 " "We are to stop there," volunteered the bright- 
 eyed girl, who was holding her sister's hands in her 
 own. 
 
 " Yes ; we sing there to-night," the little old gen- 
 tleman added. 
 
 " 0," Katey said, wondering more and more, espe- 
 cially as a dim recollection or some fancied resem- 
 blance flitted through her mind, making all at once 
 the strange company strangely familiar. She sat down 
 beside the two girls, to await the tardy progress of 
 events and the slow process of deliverance. This 
 moment of fright and mutual helpfulness had drawn 
 them together as such times will the most incongruous 
 elements, until when the train, having arrived at last 
 from the junction, moved off, she still formed one of 
 the odd group who would, at another time, have at- 
 tracted no little attention, but were now scarcely 
 noticed in the general excitement. 
 
 " You will pardon me, young lady," said the little 
 old gentleman, with quaint formality, " for not having
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 137 
 
 properly introduced myself and my family ; but the oc- 
 casion is unusual, to say the least," to which Katey 
 assented. 
 
 " These are my children," he went on, with the air 
 of presenting them to an audience ; indeed, there was 
 something histrionic in ah 1 the little old gentleman's 
 speech and manner, as though he had been accustomed 
 to bestow much care upon both. 
 
 Katey murmured something of having imagined as 
 much, as an affectionate smile was exchanged between 
 the father and his family. 
 
 " You recognize us, perhaps? " 
 
 She was obliged to own that she did not. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the little old man, with an air of aston- 
 ishment. Then opening his arms as though by this 
 gesture he were revealing himself to the world, " We 
 are the Hauser family ! " 
 
 If the little old man had announced his party as the 
 lost Ten Tribes, or the last of the Huggermuggers, he 
 could not have displayed a prouder or more self-satis- 
 fied countenance. 
 
 A light burst upon Katey's mind. She had seen 
 the name in staring letters, and even the oddly-cos- 
 tumed figures pictured upon posters in the town where 
 Delphine resided, though their simple programme had 
 tempted neither Delphine nor herself to hear them. 
 
 " 0, yes ; I remember now," she said, really inter- 
 ested ; " but I have never heard you sing." 
 
 "No?" The surprise in the little old man's face 
 made his eyes for the moment quite round. He 
 hastily searched in his pockets, and brought out at 
 last a package of tickets, soiled and broken ; choosing 
 the most presentable, he gave it into Katey's hand.
 
 138 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 11 That will admit you and a friend. Yes," examining 
 it carefully to see that there was no mistake, " you and 
 a friend to any concert we may chance to give at any 
 time in your life in any city of the world." 
 
 Katey hesitated about placing herself under so tre- 
 mendous an obligation. But the little old man insisted. 
 " Perhaps you will favor our poor performance with 
 your presence this evening, if you remain at the junc- 
 tion." 
 
 " 0, thank you ; " she replied, " I should be happy to 
 do so ; but I shall not stay there that is, I don't 
 know what I am to do. My name is Earle Kathe- 
 rine Earle," she added, remembering that she had 
 failed to accomplish her part of the introduction, " and 
 I was to have gone on to La Fayette to-night. Do 
 you think I have missed the train?" 
 
 " I should say so, certainly ; " and at that moment 
 the train rushed into the station. Immediately all was 
 confusion about them. " I am sure I don't know what 
 I can do," began Katey, bewildered. 
 
 There was a whispered consultation among her 
 new friends. " At least I must leave the cars," she 
 thought, gathering up her belongings. Some one 
 touched her arm. It was the little old man. " If you 
 would come with us, if you would not mind the the 
 publicity which naturally attends our movements, we 
 could show you an inn close by ; not the finest one in 
 the village, but perfectly respectable and neat. We 
 have been there often before. The host and hostess 
 are old friends. You hesitate ? That is quite right ; 
 it is not safe to trust a stranger, as I tell my 
 daughters." 
 
 " But she may trust you," said the bright-eyed girl,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 139 
 
 warmly, while Katey tried to protest that it was not 
 from distrust she had hesitated. 
 
 " How does she know it ? " laughed the little old 
 man. " And, first, you wish to find out about your 
 train. Suppose you go into the station and inquire 
 for yourself. That will be most satisfactory. The 
 ticket-master will tell you ; and you can ask about the 
 Lion Inn at the same time. We will wait for you ; or, 
 since Christine is so weak and tired, I will go on with 
 her, and Mina and Wulf will stay here until you re- 
 turn ; " and the kind little old gentleman moved oif 
 slowly with the sick girl. 
 
 Katey acted upon his suggestion, and found that 
 the train for La Fayette had indeed gone. There 
 would be no other until midnight ; and when the ticket- 
 agent had also corroborated the statement in regard 
 to the Lion Inn, which was kept, he said, by a German 
 family, but was neat and well spoken of, she decided 
 to remain in the village until morning. It would cer- 
 tainly be preferable to reaching La Fayette at day- 
 break, with the chance of not being expected at that 
 hour. 
 
 So she crossed the open " green," or grassy square 
 of the village, with her odd companions, to the low 
 inn, with its encircling piazza, and a flaming sign of a 
 ferocious lion swinging before the door. The piazza, 
 and even the hall, with its combined odors of smoke, 
 and beer, and departed dinners, seemed quite deserted ; 
 but bright-eyed Mina pushed on to a door at the end 
 of the passage opening into what seemed to be the 
 family room, where a very old lady sat knitting in one 
 corner, while a couple of little girls, with their thick, 
 dark locks braided tightly, and bound around their
 
 14 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 heads, played upon the floor at her feet. They sprang 
 up with an exclamation at sight of Mina, and raised 
 their rosy faces to kiss her warmly. Even the old 
 lady rose smiling to greet her. " And how do you do, 
 Wulf ? " to the flaxen-haired young man, who seemed 
 stift" and constrained in Katey's presence. Then she 
 looked inquiringly at Katey. 
 
 " It is a young lady who was going on to La Fay- 
 ette ; the accident detained her. But where is Mrs. 
 Sheppart, and what has become of Christine ? " 
 
 " You will find them in the great front room," the 
 old lady replied. " Poor Christine seems quite feeble." 
 
 " She is not well ; " and Mina's face was clouded for a 
 moment. " And the fright to-day has made her more 
 ill than usual. I think we will go and find her," she 
 added, to Katey. 
 
 Christine was lying upon the great high-posted bed 
 in the long, low, and rather barely furnished chamber 
 to which they had been directed, while the hostess, 
 a smiling, black-eyed woman, with her shining hair 
 braided and tightly wound around her head like that 
 of her little daughters, moved about the room, closing 
 the shutters, re-arranging and dusting the furniture, 
 with a bustling, cheerful air. " 0, Mina ! " she ex- 
 claimed, as the door opened, coming forward and hold- 
 ing out her round, smooth cheeks for Mina's hearty 
 kisses. " And this is the young lady Christine has 
 been telling me of; " her manner changing at sight of 
 Katey's tall and rather stately figure. " We will try 
 to make you comfortable, miss, but the house is likely 
 to be full ' She hesitated. Katey was evidently 
 out of the line of her usual patrons. 
 
 " I am sure I shall be comfortable/' Katey hastened 
 to say.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 141 
 
 " I may have to put up a cot for you here." Mina 
 looked at Katey, who glanced towards Christine. 
 
 " 0, it will not annoy Christine will it, dear ? " 
 Mina said, quickly. 
 
 Christine smiled and shook her head. 
 
 " Then I should much prefer it," said Katey. 
 
 " It would be so much nicer to be together ! " added 
 Mina, removing her hat, shaking the dust from her 
 skirts, and performing a pirouette. 
 
 " Come, come," interrupted Mrs. Sheppart, seizing 
 Mina in her arms. " Christine must go to sleep, or 
 she will be fit for nothing this evening. Perhaps you 
 and the young lady would come down to the parlor. 
 I will open it for you ; " and with one last motherly 
 arranging of the sick girl's pillows, she left the room. 
 
 Mina and Katey followed her to the little parlor at 
 the foot of the stairs, with its staring ingrain carpet, 
 and line of stiff, black chairs ranged against the wall. 
 Katey consigned herself to the cold charities of the 
 hair-cloth sofa, while Mina pushed open the shutters, 
 and let the light strike upon the great portraits cover- 
 ing the walls. There were the inn-keeper, his two 
 sons, his wife, his wife's mother, and the two little 
 girls, all staring down from very dark, wide, wooden 
 frames, and very dark, gloomy backgrounds, out of 
 exceedingly surprised eyes. The women, portrayed 
 in very tight black silk dresses, had a nipped, shrunken 
 appearance, which was quite made up, however, by 
 that of the men, who seemed, in their fullness, liable, 
 at any moment, to burst from the canvas, and step 
 down in their own proper persons. The effect, when 
 the light was let into the room, was as though the 
 place had been suddenly peopled.
 
 142 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Yes," said Mina, watching Katey's startled face ; 
 " it is as if they had all rushed to a funeral ; is it not ? 
 But I never tell Mrs. Sheppart so. She likes them. 
 They were painted by an artist who staid here one 
 summer to pay his bill, I think. But this is best of 
 all." She opened a door at the farther end of the 
 room, put her head out cautiously, and then beckoned 
 to Katey. " The men have not come back," she said, 
 leading the way into the bar-room. A kitchen-maid 
 had been left in temporary charge of the place. She 
 was leaning across the bar so as to bring her eyes 
 within range of the open door. At their appearance 
 she began vigorously to polish a glass with her apron. 
 Over her head hung the picture. The face was that 
 of the host, round, rubicund, overflowing with good 
 nature, his head surmounted by a gilded crown, a 
 crimson robe, edged with ermine, covering his shoul- 
 ders, and in his hand, not a sceptre, but a brimming, 
 foaming glass of ale. 
 
 " Old King Cole ! " exclaimed Katey. 
 
 " But it is much more like Mr. Sheppart than the 
 one in the parlor," said Mina. 
 
 There was the grinding of heavy feet upon the piazza 
 outside, and the girls retreated hastily. The hostess 
 was just entering the little parlor from the other door. 
 
 " I thought, perhaps, you would prefer to take your 
 tea by yourselves," she said. You will have more 
 time to dress," she added to Mina. So you may 
 come out now." 
 
 " That will be nice ; thank you," said Mina. I 
 don't mind, of course ; I have been here so many 
 times," she went on, as Mrs. Sheppart hastened away, 
 tearing them to Mow more leisurely. And then I
 
 /CATHERINE EARLE. 143 
 
 know the family. But you are not accustomed to be 
 stared at." 
 
 "And are you?" Katey was amused at the girl's 
 frank manner of speech. 
 
 Mina laughed. " 0, yes ; I have sung and travelled 
 about from one place to another ever since I can re- 
 member. You don't mind if the sticks and stones in 
 the street stare at you? " 
 
 " No ; but one does not credit them with eyes." 
 
 " Nor do people seem to have eyes after a time. 
 You don't think anything about it. You don't care for 
 them at all j " and then Mina led the way to the dining- 
 room.
 
 144 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CAP AND BELLS. 
 
 rpHE sick girl did not come down to tea ; and after 
 - a consultation by her bedside, her father and 
 brother decided that she was quite unfit to take part in 
 the evening's entertainment. 
 
 " It is too bad," said Mina, when, a little later, she 
 and Katey had returned to the chamber. Mina was 
 sitting upon the floor before a small trunk, which had 
 evidently seen good service, shaking out a little red 
 skirt, in whigh she was to appear at the concert. " I 
 would sing all your songs if you would only go ; but 
 you cannot, I know," she added, with a sigh, as she 
 laid back in the trunk the duplicate of the red petti- 
 coat. 
 
 She was silent and thoughtful as she braided her 
 smooth, dark hair anew, tying the thick plaits with 
 scarlet ribbons ; then suddenly she turned to Katey : 
 " But you might go in Christine's place." 
 
 Katey shrank back from leaning upon Mina's dress- 
 ing table and watching the deft fingers. 
 
 " Don't say that you won't," Mina went on ; " you 
 need not sing. You could wear Christine's dress, and 
 we never take off our hats. You have no friends here 
 to recognize you ; and what if you h'ad ? " she added, 
 proudly. " You could stand back a little when we all
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 145 
 
 rise together ; and 0, 1 should be so glad not to go 
 alone with father and Wulf! I believe, after all, I 
 should mind being stared at with Christine not beside 
 me." 
 
 Katey was startled by the proposition, which, at the 
 first moment, appeared too absurd to be entertained. 
 But as Mina used every argument in her power, she 
 began at last to waver, moved more by what had been 
 left unsaid, perhaps, than by Mina's warm pleading. 
 She was indebted to these strange friends of an hour, 
 without whom she hardly knew where she should have 
 been now, so little confidence in herself, and so little 
 experience in travelling, did she possess. She would 
 gladly oblige bright-eyed Mina, if she could ; and it 
 was true that no one who had ever known her could, 
 by any chance, be found in the audience. Her friends 
 and acquaintances were not many, nor were they given 
 to wandering ; it would be an odd coincidence in- 
 deed that should bring them here this night. Dacre 
 might follow her to La Fayette ; but he was not upon 
 the train which had brought her here, or he would have 
 appeared to her before now. The little red skirt, the 
 laced black bodice, the dainty white chemisette which 
 Christine was to have worn, would fit her form as 
 well, and perhaps the spice of adventure in the plan, 
 when it was once entertained, brought a certain charm 
 and intoxication of its own. Such an innocent bit of 
 masquerading as it would be ! Only, how could she 
 ever face the staring eyes ! 
 
 " I could not stand before the people," she said, 
 hesitatingly. 
 
 " You will not think of them at all," Mina an- 
 swered, in a gay tone, sure that her point was 
 10
 
 146 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 gained. " I will hide you ; and, indeed, as I am to 
 sing all the songs, you must not be surprised if I take 
 ah 1 the attention and applause to myself," she added, 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " I hope so, indeed," Katey answered, warmly. 
 
 She unbound her hair at Mina's suggestion, and 
 began to plait it into braids, while the latter ran down 
 to find her father and Wulf, without whose approval, 
 of course, the scheme was not to be thought of. They 
 were only too glad of this unexpected addition to 
 their small company, and the dressing for the part 
 went on in the long, low chamber, Christine an inter- 
 ested and delighted spectator. The black bodice was 
 laced snugly to the round figure, the red petticoat al- 
 lowed the shapely feet to be seen, and Miiia crowned 
 the whole with the high-pointed hat, around which she 
 had knotted a gilt cord. 
 
 " Look, Christine ! " cried Mina ; and Christine 
 laughed and praised the transformed figure, while 
 Mina danced and clapped her hands, ending the per- 
 formance with a hearty kiss upon each of Katey's 
 dark, flushed cheeks. " You were a grand young lady 
 before," she said, " but you are one of us now ; " and 
 with that change of individuality which seems often 
 to accompany a change of costume, making it compar- 
 atively easy to act a part when one is dressed for it, 
 Katey felt that she was indeed, for the time, a part of 
 the odd family. What would Jack say to it ah 1 ? she 
 thought, as she followed Mina, at last, to the little 
 parlor. 
 
 " You are not really Swiss ? " she said, when they 
 had closed the door and sat down to wait for the little 
 old man and his son, who were still at the supper table.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 147 
 
 If she were one of the family, it behooved her to know 
 something of its antecedents. 
 
 " Father and mother were born in Switzerland," 
 Mina replied, "in a village not far from Lake Con- 
 stance. They came to this country soon after they 
 were married. Father hurt his arm, and could not 
 work, when Wulf was a baby ; so he tried to sing for a 
 living. It was all he could do ; and mother had a won- 
 derful voice, they say, though I never heard it, for she 
 died when I was born. They sang in the street at 
 first, but the people all seemed too hurried and busy 
 to stop and listen ; so, after a time, when they had 
 earned a little money by different ways, they ventured 
 to give a concert in the public hall of some country 
 town. Father had learned American ways by this 
 time, and he had some bills printed, with a picture 
 upon them of himself in the Tyrolese dress, with snow- 
 covered mountains behind him, and holding a long 
 Alpine horn in his hand. Not that he was from the 
 Tyrol at all ; but the costume is striking, and it cer- 
 tainly was effective, for the hall was full, and the con- 
 cert a great success. Mother, too, wore the strange 
 dress, and even Wulf, when he was old enough to ap- 
 pear, and then Christine and I." 
 
 " It is very striking, as you say," ventured Katey, 
 " and for that reason I should think you would prefer 
 to wear it only when you sing." 
 
 " So we should," Mina replied ; " but don't you see, 
 if we dressed like every one else, people would never 
 come to hear us ; we don't sing well enough no one 
 of us, at least, except Christine, sings well enough to 
 attract them. It is because we look always and every- 
 where strange, and not like themselves at all, that the
 
 14 g KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 people in the round of places where we go have a 
 kind of curiosity and interest in us, which does much 
 to draw them to our concerts, I am sure. And we 
 don't feel that we are deceiving them, because deep 
 down in our hearts we are Swiss, even Wulf, and 
 Christine, and I, who were never in Switzerland. Do 
 you know," and the face of the girl kindled and 
 glowed, " when Christine and I stand up before the 
 people, and sing, as we do so many times, a little 
 old song beginning, 
 
 ' I've left the snow-clad hills, 
 
 Where my father's cot doth stand, 
 My own, my dear, my native home, 
 For a foreign land,' 
 
 when we look sadly into each other's eyes, as father 
 taught us to do when we were little children, often 
 and often the tears have come to mine. I see it all 
 before me the cottage where my mother was born, 
 with the vines growing over it ; the sloping green hills 
 descending to the valley, where shone a little lake ; 
 the mountains beyond, with their white faces laid 
 against heaven. And I hear, 0, above the song we 
 are singing, the tinkle of the bells as the goats come 
 slowly home, in the twilight, to the milking. I may 
 never see it ; but, if I could follow the path up the 
 valley from the village, I should know the place, I am 
 sure." 
 
 She was silent for a moment, and lost in her dream ; 
 then she came back to Katey's words. 
 
 " We did try it once. When Christine grew to be a 
 
 young lady, she was ashamed of the dress which 
 
 " strangers stared at ; so, to please her, father allowed
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 149 
 
 us to lay it aside. But our concerts were poorly 
 attended ; still, for Christine's sake he persisted. 
 He found a blind man who played the guitar, and 
 hired him to join us, thinking he might attract the 
 public." 
 
 " And did he ? " asked Katey. 
 
 " No ; for the guitar could never be heard beyond 
 the fifth row of seats, unless it snapped a string; and 
 he might as well not have been blind for all the benefit 
 it was to us ; nobody would believe it. He rolled his 
 eyes and stared at the audience, and winked and 
 turned his head in the most provoking way, consid- 
 ering the care and expense he was to us. Father 
 tried to persuade him to shut his eyes, and offered to 
 buy him a dog, to lead him by a string, to convince 
 people ; but he wouldn't listen to it at all. He went on 
 with his ridiculous antics, and all the time finding fault 
 that we did not pay him more, when we were earning 
 hardly enough to put bread into our mouths, until we 
 were glad to be rid of him. Then the proprietor of 
 a monkey show wanted to hire us to go about with 
 that; but, though his offer was a very good one, father 
 would not accept it. Some time before this, Wulf had 
 an opportunity to take lessons upon the bass-viol. 
 It was wonderful to hear him," she added, with sis- 
 terly pride ; " but, though he had learned to play well 
 enough to perform in public, a bass-viol alone wouldn't 
 attract an audience would it ? " 
 
 Katey felt hardly competent to judge ; still, she 
 thought it would not. 
 
 " So he left us, to play in the orchestra of a theatre 
 that winter," Mina went on, " and Christine had a very 
 good offer to travel with a Bible panorama. She had-
 
 150 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 only to wear a plain white dress, let her hair down, 
 and sing solemn pieces while they were moving it 
 along. I believe that Bible panorama never had such 
 a success before or since. Still father was sorry after- 
 wards that he consented to her going." 
 
 Mina's words had fairly overlapped each other in the 
 eagerness of her recital ; now she hesitated. 
 
 " But I will tell you," she continued, " because it 
 troubled us all, and because I like you. I never had 
 a girl friend before ; we stay so short a time in any 
 place, and father is so careful about our making ac- 
 quaintances. Perhaps you don't wish me to reckon 
 you as a friend ? '' 
 
 Mina blushed, and searched Katey's face with shy 
 anxiety. 
 
 " 0, yes, I do. I do, indeed," Katey answered, 
 warmly. " And I am giad to know of your life, if you 
 will tell me." 
 
 " Well," Mina went on, " winter was coming, and 
 we had none of us any engagement except Wulf, 
 and his earnings would not support us all, when 
 Christine had, unexpectedly, this good offer. Father 
 inquired, and found that the man who owned the 
 Bible panorama was very respectable, and his wife 
 was to travel with him ; so, although we had never 
 been separated before, and he could hardly make up 
 his mind to it now, he consented at last to let her go. 
 And she has never been herself since." 
 
 Mina paused to brush the tears out of her eyes be- 
 fore she went on. 
 
 " She was always sweet-faced, was Christine." 
 
 " And so she is now," said Katey. 
 
 " Yes ; but she was rosier, brighter, then j and yet
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 151 
 
 there was something in her eyes, not like a pain, but 
 as though you could imagine how they would look if 
 ever the pain came. 'I saw her the first night she ap- 
 peared with the panorama ; and when she stood there, 
 the walls and towers of Jerusalem rising behind her, 
 with her long, fair hair falling about her shoulders, her 
 hands crossed upon the bosom of the white gown, and 
 her eyes gazing away beyond us while she sang, I 
 sobbed so that father had to take me out. It seemed 
 as though it were the new Jerusalem, and she a saint 
 in glory. She sang all that winter in one place and 
 another. She had always a sweet voice, with a tone 
 in it like the look in her eyes. We used to hear from 
 her often, and see her occasionally, and she seemed 
 bright and happy. But when tho spring came, and she- 
 returned to us, there was a change. For a long time 
 Ave did not know what it was, only there was a change. 
 After a time it all came out ; for Christine could never 
 hide anything in her soul from us. It seemed a young 
 man had followed her, through tho winter, from place 
 to place, until he stole her heart. Yes, stole it," Mina 
 repeated, excitedly, u for he never came boldly to our 
 father, as he ought to have done ; ho never came to 
 him at all until long after her return, when he found ho 
 could see her in no other way. Where he ever saw her 
 first I can't think, for he was not the kind of a young 
 man one would expect to follow a Bible panorama. 
 He would have married her then, that was last 
 spring, but father would riot consent to it. Wo 
 knew nothing of him. He seemed to have money in 
 abundance, and boasted of his family ; but who could 
 tell the truth of his stories ? And yet he had such a 
 way of winning your liking, that an angel in heaven
 
 152 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 could hardly have stood out against him long, and even 
 father got to believe in him at last, and consented to 
 their being married after a year, if he would go away 
 and prove himself' worthy of her in that time, for he 
 acknowledged, quite frankly, that he had led an idle 
 life, not altogether blameless, until he knew Christine. 
 So, when he found father's resolution was not to be 
 shaken, he went away. At first he wrote often, but 
 lately she has heard nothing at all from him, and is ill, 
 as you see, from anxiety. She fears he may be sick, but 
 we think it much more likely that he has ceased to 
 care for her. Some other pretty face, perhaps, has 
 caught his fancy." 
 
 Katey was silent. She was thinking of her own 
 experience of Dacre. What if he should never 
 come again ? But he would, she knew. " It is very 
 sad," she said. " Poor Christine ! " And then the little 
 old man and his tall son appeared at the parlor door. 
 Mina rose hastily. 
 
 " Is it time to go ? " 
 
 " Not yet ; but Hans is in the ball-room, waiting to 
 play, if you will come up. Ah, my dear young lady ! " 
 catching a glimpse of Katey, who had retreated behind 
 Mina's chair, suddenly conscious of her unusual ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 "Is she not the prettiest Swiss maiden in the 
 world?" cried Mina, dragging her forward, until her 
 dark flushed cheeks and downcast eyes were revealed 
 by the light from the hanging lamp in the hall. 
 
 " The costume is certainly very becoming," said the 
 little old man ; " and we are extremely obliged for 
 your kindness," he added, with a droll little flourish-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 153 
 
 ing bow. " Now we had better go up to Hans : we 
 have no time to lose." 
 
 " But who is Hans ? " asked Katey, as the two girls 
 ascended the stairs. 
 
 " 0, he is Mrs. Sheppart's eldest son," Mina replied, 
 with affected carelessness, ill suited to the blush which 
 rose to her face with the words.
 
 154 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "HOW LIKE YOU THIS PLAY?" 
 
 rPHE groat ball-room was unlighted, save by a couple 
 -*- of flaring candles at the upper end, where there 
 was a raised stand for the musicians who led the dance 
 upon festive occasions. To-night it was occupied by 
 a slender, fair-haired young man, whose mild counte- 
 nance, illuminated by the rays from the candles, dis- 
 played a variety of changes in expression as the party, 
 led by pretty Mina, entered the room. A stout man, 
 with a florid face and a generally inflated appearance, 
 whom Katey recognized as the original of the King 
 Cole in the bar-room, now stepped forward to snuff' 
 the candles with a business-like air, while the young 
 man, descending awkwardly from his perch, where he 
 had been tuning a violin, greeted Mina shyly, and 
 bowed to Katey, with a sudden drawing together of 
 his feet, and a spring-like bend of the back a bow 
 evidently learned for an occasion ; but Katey by this 
 time had become accustomed to being greeted as 
 though she were an audience. 
 
 " Now, Hans," said the stout man, briskly, when he 
 too had spoken with Katey. The young man returned 
 to his place, took up the violin he had laid down, and 
 rested it upon his shoulder, caressing it with his cheek 
 until it nestled into its place. Then bending his ear
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 155 
 
 towards it, as if to catch its faintest whisper, he raised 
 his bow. 
 
 A knot of shadowy forms gathered in the doorway 
 of the dusky room. The feeble rays of light touched 
 the two girls in their quaint costume, and made a cir- 
 cle of brightness around the young musician. He was 
 no longer awkward, self-conscious ; the light within, 
 which was a song as well, glorified his face for the 
 moment, and made it beautiful, while the tones of the 
 instrument, so like a human voice speaking from 
 the depths of a human soul, at the touch of his hand, 
 pleaded, and sobbed, and died away upon the ear at 
 last with a sigh. 
 
 There was a bustle of voices and gathering forms 
 about the player as he ceased. 
 
 " Yes," said Katey, when she had descended again 
 with Mina to the little parlor, " it is wonderful ! What 
 does it mean ? Why is he here ? " 
 
 " He is only home for a visit," Mina replied. " He 
 is to be first violin in one of the best orchestras in the 
 country this winter. 0, you can't think how hard he 
 has worked for years, going on from one place to a 
 higher, all the time." Her enthusiasm was now quite 
 unlike her indifference of half an hour before. i l And 
 he would never have been a musician at all but for us. 
 His father hoped he would stay at home and take the 
 house after a time; but Hans could not endure the 
 thought of it. He told us all his desire and hope to 
 be a musician, one time when we were here a number 
 of years ago, for we are old friends, you see, and 
 father persuaded Mr. Sheppart to let him take a feAV 
 lessons ; then Wulf got him a chance to play in the 
 orchestra of the theatre that winter of which I told
 
 156 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 you last winter, indeed with him ; and so it has 
 gone on, father saying a word occasionally to Mr. 
 Sheppart, until now there is no need for any one to say 
 a word his violin can speak for him. But when we 
 come here he always plays, as he has to-night, that 
 we may see how he has improved. He never forgets 
 to be grateful, and that is the best of it all. So many 
 do, you know. But it is time we went to the hall ; and 
 here come father and Wulf now." 
 
 They were much finer in dress than they had been 
 in the cars. The long boots had been discarded, and 
 there were knots of gay ribbons at tfceir knees. They 
 had changed their cloth jackets, too, for others of vel- 
 vet, gayly embroidered, and around their hats were 
 tied gilt cords and tassels, like those upon Mina's and 
 Katey's. It was a brilliant costume, but such as no 
 Tyrolese peasant in his brightest dreams had ever im- 
 agined himself possessing. 
 
 Katey was in a flutter of nervous alarm as they 
 crossed the " green " before the little inn, fortunately 
 hidden, by the gathering darkness and the cloaks in 
 which they were wrapped, from the prying eyes of 
 the curious crowd gathered about the door of the hall 
 where the concert was to be. It was early, and the 
 hall nearly empty, as they saw when passing through 
 it to the curtained corner near the stage which was to 
 serve as a dressing-room. Here the two girls were 
 left alone, while the little old man and his son returned 
 to the door to look after the sale of the tickets. Katey 
 had been quickly and easily persuaded to take her 
 part in the entertainment ; knowing that it was to con- 
 sist only in walking upon the stage and standing with 
 the others. In the excitement of dressing for the new
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 157 
 
 character, after her impulsive assent, there had been 
 no time to dwell upon her probable sensations in find- 
 ing herself before an audience ; and later, Mina's story 
 and the incident in the ball-room had engrossed her 
 mind. Now, as she sat upon an old wooden chair in 
 this curtained corner, waiting, for the hall to fill, and 
 Wulf and his father to return, hearing the tramp and 
 shuffle of feet and the murmur of voices close beside 
 her, she was overcome with terror. Her hands and 
 feet became stiff and cold ; her tongue seemed para- 
 lyzed, and she shivered involuntarily, though the place 
 had seemed uncomfortably warm when they entered 
 it. Mina, on the contrary, danced about, shaking out 
 her skirts, re-tying the ribbons upon her hair, and set- 
 ting her hat jauntily upon her little round head. 
 
 " I cannot do it," Katey said at last. " I can never 
 go up there ; it is useless to try ; " pointing to half a 
 dozen steps leading up on the stage, the mounting of 
 which would seem to be no very difficult feat. 
 
 " Why, I do believe you are frightened ! " exclaimed 
 Mina, half in surprise and half in unbelief, pausing be- 
 fore her. She took Katey's cold hands in her warm 
 little palms, and. chafed them, talking all the time. 
 " It will be nothing when you are once there," she 
 said ; " and you have not to sing, you know. We shall 
 stand in a half circle, you and I between father and 
 Wulf, and your hat will shade your face, so that no 
 one will notice that you don't sing. There ! now you 
 are better ; " and Katey did, indeed, feel herself par- 
 tially reassured by the touch of the warm hands and 
 the sound of the cheerful, encouraging voice. A cor- 
 ner of the curtain was raised, and the little old man 
 and Wulf appeared.
 
 158 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " It is quite full is it not ? " said Mina, catching a 
 glimpse of the hall as the curtain fell. " The accident 
 has detained so many people ! " she added. 
 
 " Yes, my dear," returned her father, in a lofty tone ; 
 " but the accident did not compel them to patronize 
 our entertainment." 
 
 An impatient stamping of feet began to sound out- 
 side now at intervals. Katey started nervously. 
 
 " Let them call," said the little old man, with a 
 placid smile. "Nothing is valued, my dear young 
 lady, which may be had for the asking. Delay stimu- 
 lates curiosity and interest ; only, however, to a cer- 
 tain point. ,A. cultivated ear alone can determine 
 when that point is reached," he added, philosophically, 
 bending his head upon one side to listen, as again 
 the thunder of heavy feet echoed through the room. 
 " There is danger of waiting a moment too long, until 
 curiosity has become irritated into angry impatience. 
 I have known a whole evening to be spoiled by it, 
 the audience refusing to recover its good humor." 
 
 Again the building seemed to shake to its founda- 
 tions, and above the deafening noise sounded a shrill 
 whistle. 
 
 " There is not a moment to lose now," said the little 
 old man ; " I would not risk another round ; that whistle 
 struck the key-note ; " and he mounted the steps 
 hastily. 
 
 " If you are frightened, you can go off at any time," 
 whispered Mina, giving Katey's hand a reassuring 
 squeeze as she passed before her. But Katey thought 
 that to go off would be much more dreadful, even, than 
 to remain, when once upon the stage. 
 
 In the confusion of applause which greeted their
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 159 
 
 appearance, it was not difficult to cross the platform, 
 and take one of the four chairs set out primly in a row. 
 
 " Move your chair back, as I do," whispered Mina ; 
 and Katey found herself somewhat screened by this 
 arrangement. She remembered also Mina's advice to 
 glance once all over and about the room. 
 
 " You will never know, until you try it, how that one 
 glance will reassure yon," she had said. And she did 
 even this, beginning with the farther end of the hall, 
 where was only a confusion of heads moving apparently 
 upon pivots, and set in rows. To her delight, they did 
 not seem to represent individuals at all. Her courage 
 rose, and when at last she had reached a cross-eyed 
 woman down in front, who was staring fixedly at no 
 one of them in particular, her fears had vanished. She 
 began even to bo amused by her odd position, and to 
 wish, when they stood up for the first song, in which 
 she could take no part, that some chance would place 
 Delphine and Jack before her, or that Josie Durant's 
 high-bred face might start out from among the strange 
 countenances at which she dared not look now, lest 
 she should betray her silence. How aghast with sur- 
 prise and horror would they be could they see her at 
 this moment ! 
 
 Of one custom Mina had forgotten to inform her. 
 It was the habit of the. family, at a certain point in 
 the entertainment, to descend from the platform, and 
 walk slowly down and back through the audience, by 
 which means a most natural curiosity was gratified. 
 Mina explained this now, in a hurried whisper, when 
 the first part of the concert was over, and the little 
 old man, having made known aloud their intention, 
 proceeded to leave the stage, followed by the others
 
 160 
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Katey with downcast eyes, and crimson, tingling 
 cheeks. She would have refused had she dared, or 
 had there been a moment to explain. For might not 
 some one recognize her, after all ? Might not some of 
 her fellow-passengers upon the train remember her 
 face ? For the first time it flashed upon her mind that 
 this innocent, good-natured part she had undertaken 
 so thoughtlessly might be misinterpreted. She was 
 following Mina, hearing Wulf 's step behind her, con- 
 scious of the absurdity of her position, painfully con- 
 scious of the forms on either side leaning out from 
 their places, rising from their seats, and yet silent and 
 respectful, when they reached the end of the hall. 
 Katey, with her eyes upon the floor, had followed the 
 twinkle of the little heels before her. Now, suddenly 
 they disappeared. It was nothing. Mina had only 
 hastened her steps; but Katey, looking up in that 
 moment of confusion and terror, met broad and full 
 the searching, astonishe'd gaze of a pair of deep-set, 
 gray eyes, belonging to a square figure, leaning care- 
 lessly against the wall, and holding a soft slouched 
 hat in his hand. Good Heavens ! Where had he 
 come from, and why was he here ? It was the gentle- 
 man who had watched her at Mrs. Durant's the night 
 before. It was the man who had recognized Dacre 
 upon the street. The glai\pe of amused curiosity 
 which he had bestowed upon the others changed to 
 the blankest amazement at sight of her, settling at last 
 into a cold, hard stare, in which she read only sus- 
 picion and condemnation. She paused involuntarily. 
 Already she was some distance behind the others. 
 Wulf, seeing only this, and fearing that she was over- 
 come by timidity, took her by the arm, and hastened 
 her on.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 161 
 
 How the remainder of the evening was passed she 
 hardly knew. She followed mechanically the move- 
 ments of the others, but never once again raising her 
 eyes to the audience, from whom she turned away at 
 last with a sense of relief beyond the power of words 
 to express. She was ashamed to care so little for the 
 gratitude which her new friends poured out in their 
 simplicity and delight over the success of her part in 
 the entertainment. She thought only of getting away 
 without again encountering the cold stare of those 
 sharp, gray eyes. 
 
 The audience dispersed at last, and they left the 
 hall through the crowd which still lingered about the 
 door, eager for any crumbs which their curiosity might 
 pick up. Hidden behind Wulf, and clinging to Mina, 
 not daring to look up, she hastened out and across the 
 green. the blessedness of the shelter, when the 
 door of the ugly little inn had closed behind them ! 
 11
 
 162 KATHARINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A NEW LIFE. 
 
 KATEY awoke late the next morning. She was 
 tired, and almost ill, after the excitement of the 
 previous day. The first train for La Fayette had 
 already gone, which she hardly regretted, since it 
 gave her time to rest and partially recover herself. 
 It was afternoon before she bade adieu to her new 
 friends, and started again upon her journey. King 
 Cole volunteered to see her safely aboard the train , 
 but this was an honor which the little old man felt 
 should fall only upon himself, and which he bore by 
 no means with meekness, making Katey painfully 
 conspicuous at the station, by his fussy efforts to 
 insure her comfort. " Good by, my dear young lady, 
 good by," he said at last, still lingering, though the 
 train was beginning to move. " Remember that you 
 have always sincere and obliged friends in the Hauser 
 family ; " with which little speech, not unlike the con- 
 clusion of a letter, he folded himself up quickly, and 
 hastened away. 
 
 It was night when she reached her destination. 
 But while she is standing upon the platform of the sta- 
 tion, not at all sure that some one in the crowd under 
 the blinking lamps may not have come to meet her, 
 let us say a word of the town in which she has found 
 herself.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 163 
 
 La Fayette is one of the few cities in the United 
 States which have truly the appearance of long in- 
 habitation ; with narrow streets, dull brick houses, 
 and a church visited by strangers, since it is one 
 of the oldest in the country, as those undoubted his- 
 torians, the stones in the churchyard, testify. 
 
 It is situated in one of the Middle States, close 
 upon the Southern, at the junction of two streams 
 of revolutionary fame ; and, with its winding, nar- 
 row streets, its dingy old houses, its Saturday market 
 held by old women in flapping caps upon the curb- 
 stones, is not unlike a continental city in appearance. 
 
 Lying near the southern boundary of the state, its 
 interests are so closely connected with that section 
 of the Union, that, although professedly neutral in 
 the feeling which ran so high even before the war, its 
 sympathies really and fiercely followed its interests. 
 There is nothing so bitter in its hatred, so strong in 
 its partisanship, as " neutrality.''* Even at this time 
 a year, more or less, before the hot, angry words led 
 to blows an avowed northern man was rare here ; 
 an avowed northern sentiment rarer still. 
 
 The school in which Katey had sought a position 
 was an institution founded and partly supported by 
 a religious sect. It was not, however, termed an 
 academy, but a college ; and had received a charter 
 from the state legislature. The only visible effect of 
 this was, that the principal was mentioned in the cata- 
 logue, and always addressed as president, while the 
 male teachers bore the high-sounding title of pro- 
 fessor. 
 
 President Humphrey was a northern man, a clergy- 
 man, who had been for years a missionary in India
 
 164 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 a mountain of a man physically, about whose summit, 
 where the snow was beginning to fall softly, the sun 
 nevertheless always shone. Keen, watchful, sarcastic 
 at times, he yet bore an air of genial ease approaching 
 indolence to one who could forget his peculiar, rest- 
 less, dark eyes. He held the school in his great hand, 
 and moulded it to his will, not by the display of au- 
 thority, not by the pressure of a finger even, but 
 through the belief, unconsciously working in the 
 minds of his subjects, that within him was a power, 
 never exercised, because the present occasion was 
 always too insignificant, but none the less mighty and 
 irresistible. A northern man, he held his place as 
 long as it served his purpose to do so, by holding his 
 tongue. Before that would have become impossible, 
 he had accepted a position elsewhere. 
 
 The senior among the professors, by reason of years, 
 long residence, and his position as instructor in the 
 dead languages, was Professor Paine. He, too, was 
 a retired clergyman, but of another mould and stamp. 
 He was timid and precise in manner, thin and brown of 
 appearance, dressed invariably with scrupulous neat- 
 ness in ministerial black, and was remarkable, mentally, 
 for his clear convictions of duty, and his knowledge of 
 Latin and Greek, as well as for his quiet persistency 
 in maintaining his position in regard to either. An 
 unwavering Arminian, he would not have hesitated 
 to dispute with Calvin himself, had the opportunity 
 been offered ; a strong believer in states' rights, only 
 a hundred miles of territory saved him from perse- 
 cution, and prevented his becoming a martyr to his 
 political faith a little later. And yet he was a cow- 
 ard. He lived in mortal terror of the schoolgirls !
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 165 
 
 Girl-nature was to him a language, the alphabet of 
 which he had not been able to master. Upon the 
 rare occasions when it became necessary for him, in 
 the absence of the other teachers, to preside in the 
 study-hall, he entered the room with a deprecatory 
 air, at which the young Amazons smiled cruelly and 
 visibly. He mounted to the high desk with a stum- 
 bling step, seated himself with a care which implied 
 a doubt as to final results, and surveyed the room with 
 an attempted expression of ease, which perished in 
 the bud, his countenance saying in every line, " Now, 
 young ladies, now now really ! 0, you dreadful 
 creatures, what are you going to do ? " 
 
 Then, first one desk-lid would fall with a sound like 
 an explosion ; another, at the farther end of the room, 
 would respond ; a third would take it up, until every 
 desk in the hall seemed in motion; while the poor 
 professor, turning his head spasmodically from side to 
 side, his bewildered face a deep mahogany hue, tried 
 in vain to fix upon the offenders. He was known 
 to have even fled from the room. But did the presi- 
 dent appear in the doorway, every sound ceased, 
 every eye was fixed upon the page before it. These 
 occurrences, however, were rare ; perhaps because 
 the occasions were rare, indeed, upon which he was 
 called to preside. 
 
 The first among the professors, in point of fact, was 
 Professor Dyce he who strove to inculcate the 
 natural sciences and higher mathematics upon the 
 unwilling minds of the girls, and to whom all au- 
 thority was intrusted in the absence of the president. 
 Like him, he was born and had been reared in the 
 north, but had spent some years of his life abroad,
 
 166 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 in the comfortable belief that he was to fall heir to a 
 wealth which made any exertion for his own support 
 unnecessary. Circumstances, however, including a 
 lawsuit, rendering this belief problematical, and, at 
 the same time, calling him to La Fayette, instead of 
 indulging vain hopes or useless fears, he sought and 
 obtained a position in this school while awaiting the 
 result, and, to prepare himself for a possible future, 
 was pursuing medical studies in his moments of 
 leisure. 
 
 Besides these two, there were connected with the 
 institution Mr. Milde, the teacher of drawing and 
 painting ; Professor Grote, the music-master , and still 
 another, of unnecessary and unpronounceable name, 
 Vho came upon certain days to instruct the young 
 ladies in the modern languages. Mr. Milde was a 
 bashful young man, with large brown eyes, and a 
 smooth, boyish face, chiefly remarkable for the ad- 
 amantine nature of his heart, since no amount of 
 strength brought to bear upon his sensibilities 
 in the shape of coquettish airs and manners, or even 
 sighs and half-concealed tears was able to swerve 
 him from the rigid performance of his duty, which was, 
 as has been said, to teach the young ladies of the 
 La Fayette Female College the principles of drawing 
 and painting. 
 
 With Professor GrSte, high-shouldered, square of 
 face, auburn-haired, and with twinkling blue eyes 
 behind his gold-rimmed spectacles, the young co- 
 quettes were more successful. At least, numerous 
 stories of pretty compliments, paid in the professor's 
 oddly-accented English, floated about the school ; not 
 well-authenticated stories, by any means, but suf-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 167 
 
 ficiently plausible to give a romantic interest to the 
 great, bare music-room, and dull little practising- 
 closets, and to flavor somewhat the rather tasteless 
 school-life. As to the female teachers, they shall be 
 enumerated later, when Katey has found a more 
 comfortable resting-place, even for a summer night, 
 than the crowded platform of a railway station. 
 
 Evidently no one had come to meet her. The car- 
 riages, drawn up in a dusky line, were beginning to 
 drive rapidly away. She descended the steps, and en- 
 tered the last and only remaining one, which had been 
 disdained, perhaps, on account of its shabby appear- 
 ance. In a moment it was climbing the narrow, steep 
 street, rattling over the round paving-stones of the 
 town, turning corners, and making abortive dives at 
 houses dimly shadowed forth in the flickering gas- 
 light, with a kind of jerk and shamble of motion 
 which brought her at last to her destination a 
 brick house, tall and gloomy of appearance in the 
 dim light, detached from the others upon the street, 
 and with a double flight of high stone steps leading 
 to two doors placed side by side. 
 
 " Pull either bell," tha cabman called, as she hesi- 
 tated between the two ; " it's all the same." 
 
 A servant opened the door. She stepped into a 
 narrow hall, full of the sound of voices suddenly 
 husbed, proceeding from an open doorway on the right, 
 which was immediately filled by a giant form, while 
 President Humphrey's dark face shone down upon 
 her full of kindly welcome, when she had introduced 
 herself. He was followed by his wife, a little woman 
 of delicate appearance, who greeted Katey languidly, 
 and drew her into the room from which the voices
 
 168 CATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 had come a pretty apartment, with its bamboo fur- 
 niture and quaint foreign ornaments. It was bril- 
 liantly lighted now, and to Katey, dazzled after the 
 dull glimmer of the street lamps, seemed to be filled 
 with people. A little round man upon the sofa, whose 
 cravat appeared to have inadvertently started his eyes 
 from his head, rose, at her entrance, with a kind of 
 bounce. This was one of the parents, whom term- 
 time had brought to Mrs. Humphrey's drawing-room 
 Mr. Solomon Luckiwinner, the owner of many 
 shares in more than one Pennsylvania coal mine, and 
 the possessor, also, of a daughter, which accounted 
 for his presence here. She was an exceedingly di- 
 minutive, prim young lady, of insignificant counte- 
 nance, overloaded in dress and weighed down with 
 jewelry, which seemed so out of place upon her as 
 to give one the impression that she was only holding 
 it a few moments for the accommodation of some one 
 else. Just now her small features were swollen and 
 disfigured by crying. The pangs of homesickness 
 had seized upon her already. Katey, conscious of 
 an unaccountable sinking of her own heart, felt an 
 irresistible drawing towards the forlorn girl, who 
 gave her a prim, dutiful little bow, and then subsided, 
 with a suppressed sob, into her corner again, as one 
 or two of the lady teachers rose hastily and came 
 forward to greet her: Miss Severance tall, fair, 
 brown-eyed, and sweet to look at, dressed in deepest 
 black ; Miss Wormley of whom Katey marked only, 
 at the moment, the blink of watery, red-rimmed eyes ; 
 and " Our preceptress, Miss Hersey," a plump, high- 
 shouldered, fair-haired woman, of anxious countenance 
 and timid, hesitating manner, whom nature had in-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 169 
 
 tended for a happier sphere, but fate and circum- 
 stances had made preceptress of the La Fayette Female 
 College. These all resided in the two houses which 
 made up the school buildings ; for, in addition to the 
 one containing Mrs. Humphrey's drawing-room, there 
 was another at a short distance around the corner of 
 the street, the two being connected in the rear by a 
 wide veranda, at the point where their angles met. 
 In the corner itself was a smaller house, which Pro- 
 fessor Paine occupied with his family. The other 
 gentlemen connected with the institution, with the 
 exception of Professor Dyce, came in at stated hours 
 to their classes. 
 
 " You would be glad to go to your room, I am 
 sure," said Miss Hersey, upon whom devolved the 
 duty of entertaining these school guests ; " but, as it 
 is in the other house, perhaps you had better take 
 your tea first. We did not know when to expect you, 
 after the accident yesterday. Professor Dyce and 
 our new housekeeper were delayed by it; but they 
 came on this morning. We thought, from your letter, 
 that you would come by that train; but Professor 
 Dyce could not recall any one whom he judged to be 
 you." 
 
 Katey ran over in her mind the few faces among 
 the passengers which she could remember, " I was 
 upon the train, but I think I did not see him," she said. 
 
 " Very likely ; you were not in the same car, I 
 presume." 
 
 "How did you pass the night? Of course you 
 were obliged to remain at the junction." 
 
 It was Mrs. Humphrey who roused herself to speak 
 from the arm-chair in which she was hidden. Il<w
 
 170 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 timid and easily confused this rather stately young 
 lady was, after all, she thought, as Katey replied, with 
 evident embarrassment, that she had found a very 
 comfortable inn close by the station. 
 
 " Still, it must have been very awkward to go to 
 an inn alone," suggested Miss Wormley, craning her 
 long neck, and patting her faded, sandy hair. 
 
 " But I was not alone," Katey replied, quickly. 
 Then she checked herself. 
 
 " 0, you were with friends ? " Miss Wormley saw 
 no reason why this girl should not relate the circum- 
 stances exactly as they occurred. 
 
 Fortunately, at this moment, Miss Hersey, after a 
 little flurried start and glance round the room, pro- 
 posed that Katey should go down to tea, and rose 
 to lead the way. It was long after the usual tea hour, 
 and she was served alone. When they returned, the 
 president and Miss Severance had left the room. 
 Mrs. Humphrey was dozing in her chair, while Miss 
 Wormley had drawn near Mr. Luckiwinner, to whose 
 remarks she was listening with a simper of pleased 
 attention upon her countenance. 
 
 " I ain't much of a scholar myself," he was saying, 
 " but I reckon Clary, here, shall larn about all there 
 is ; " and he described a half-circle with his right 
 hand, upon which shone an enormous diamond ring, 
 as though gathering within its limits all the wisdom 
 of the earth, which was to find a place in poor little 
 Miss Luckiwinner's head. " There's money enough." 
 He winked, and chuckled, and gurgled, in an alarming 
 way. " Don't leave nothing out. We'll have all them 
 high-sounding things. The Lord knows the name of 
 'em, I don't. Won't we, Clary ? " appealing to the 
 corner. But the only reply was a burst of sobs.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 171 
 
 "There, there, don'tee now," he said, soothingly, 
 drawing the girl forward, and seating her upon his 
 knee. " You won't mind us, ma'am ? " to Mrs. Hum- 
 phrey, as the girl buried her face upon her father's 
 shoulder. " You see, she ain't had no mother these 
 good many years." Perhaps it was the tight neck- 
 handkerchief which squeezed the tears at this moment 
 into his own eyes. He brushed them away with the 
 coarse hand upon which gleamed the showy ring. 
 " I've had to be dad and marm, too. Ain't I, Clary ? 
 There, there, it won't be no time at all before you'll 
 be comin' home on your vacation, with so much larnin' 
 in your head, that you can't talk to your poor dad." 
 This he said with a comprehensive wink around the 
 room ; but the only reply was a tighter clasp of the 
 arms about his neck, and a new burst of sobs into his 
 bosom. " And then there's Rol coming to see you 
 next week. That's her brother," he explained ; " and 
 may be I shall look in on you by the week after. .Per. 
 haps I'll come to school myself ! " he added, as a 
 triumph of wit. " You don't think your dad's too 
 old to larn them high-soundin' things do ye, little 
 gal ? " 
 
 There was a burst of laughter from the hidden head 
 at this, and Mr. Luckiwinner choked, and gurgled, 
 and reddened, and gasped, as though he were in 
 danger of going out like a sputtering candle. When 
 he had so far recovered himself as to be able to blow 
 his nose upon a handkerchief with a flaming border, 
 he addressed himself to Katey. 
 
 " They tell me you're agoin' to be a teacher here ; 
 well, if you'd have an eye on my little gal bein' 
 young yourself," he went on, without noticing the
 
 172 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 change in Miss "Wormley's countenance from the 
 most tender pity and sympathy to astonishment and 
 gathering indignation. " If you'd let her room with 
 you, say, I'd fit up that room without sparin' no 
 expense ; velvet carpet, three-story black walnut bed- 
 stead, with filigree work over the top, carved side- 
 board to put your clothes in, and all them little silver 
 gimcracks that women like to have round on the 
 bureau, handsomer'n any communion service you ever 
 see." 
 
 Ho spoke eagerly and hurriedly ; but Miss Hersey 
 ventured to interfere, and explain that it was against 
 the rules of the school for the teachers to share their 
 rooms with the pupils. But, as each one had charge 
 of a dormitory hall, the young lady could room upon 
 Miss Earle's hall if she chose ; and so the matter was 
 arranged. 
 
 Suddenly, Mrs. Humphrey, who had been fast asleep, 
 wrapped in a soft white shawl, summer night though 
 it was, roused herself with a little yawn, to ask, 
 " Where is Professor Dyce ? Has any one seen him 
 since tea?" The question was answered unexpect- 
 edly. A quick, firm step sounded in the hall, followed 
 by a deep voice in momentary colloquy with some 
 one there, and the professor himself entered the 
 room. 
 
 "Here he is now," said Miss Hersey, before he 
 appeared, hearing his step, which could never be 
 mistaken for the president's heavy roll, or Professor 
 Paine's timid creep. Katey turned with listless curi- 
 osity. She had "half risen to ask to be shown to her 
 room. She dropped upon her seat again, her heart 
 for the moment ceasing to beat. It was the gentle-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 173 
 
 man who had recognized Dacre Home upon the 
 street, and who had confronted her so unexpectedly 
 the night before. Why had she never imagined the 
 possibility of this ? 
 
 " Ah," said Mrs. Humphrey, " we were just speak- 
 ing of you ; Miss Hersey, will you " She sank back 
 into her chair with a little wave of her hand towards 
 Miss Earle, whom Miss Hersey hastened 'to present. 
 
 The professor had marked the shrinking figure as 
 he entered, some frightened school- girl, he had said 
 to himself; but at the sound of her name, he came 
 forward with outstretched hand, and a pleasant, re- 
 assuring word upon his lips, remembering the timid 
 start of the slight figure whose face he was curious 
 to see. 
 
 He recalled the image of an odd littlo girl, bear- 
 ing this same name, whom he had befriended years 
 before, at a children's party in Boston. She had 
 forgotten the occasion and time, of course, and ho 
 had no thought of making himself known to her; 
 but the recollection quickened his curiosity, and 
 warmed his usual cool, grave manner into unwonted 
 cordiality. 
 
 Katey rose, but she did not lift her eyes. Had she 
 not felt before the sudden, freezing stare, which she 
 had not the courage to meet again ? As for the pro- 
 fessor, his hand fell to his side, the half-uttered words 
 of welcome came to an untimely end, he bowed low, 
 and, turning away abruptly, seated himself by Mrs. 
 Humphrey's chair. 
 
 Poor Katey, left standing in the middle of the floor, 
 her bonnet pushed back from her burning face, her 
 slender fingers tightly clasping each other as she
 
 174 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 tried to repress the tears which sprang to her eyes, 
 remembered Jack remembered Delphine's pleasant 
 home with a longing like a pain. Why had she come 
 hero ? Did not Jack say that she would do something 
 absurd and unheard of? And so she had already. 
 She stooped and picked up her shawl, which had 
 fallen to the floor, as the buzz of conversation sounded 
 again in her ears. Would he tell, here and now, 
 where he had last seen her? The part she had 
 played so thoughtlessly, and, as it seemed' to her at 
 the time, so innocently, appeared now almost like a 
 crime. Could she confess it if called upon ? For 
 a moment she almost thought she might. Then 
 she remembered the skirts, of modest length, to be 
 sure ; but much shorter than fashion or custom dic- 
 tated. Strange that a few inches should condemn 
 her ; and yet she knew they would. She might tell 
 the story, but she could never own to the little red 
 petticoat 1 
 
 " Have you come far to-day ? " There was a 
 sudden silence, as Professor Dyce's voice, with its 
 slightly sarcastic tone, crossed the room. The ques 
 tion was for her, then, when he knew. Did he 
 think to expose and confound her before them all? 
 Pride, and something almost like anger, came to her 
 rescue. 
 
 " I have come from the junction," she answered, 
 with that forced, outward composure which answers 
 BO often and well for inward quiet. She did not 
 shrink from meeting his eyes now. She had been 
 foolish, perhaps, but she had done no wrong. 
 
 " The accident detained you there, I presume ; you 
 must have found the time of waiting rather dull."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 175 
 
 She thought of the little company of which she had 
 made one, and which he had seen trooping down 
 through the hall in their fantastic garb. Dull ! It 
 was dreadful to remember ; but it certainly was not 
 dull. The flame in her face rose to her hair. 
 
 " Yes/' ventured Miss Wormley, who had watched 
 Miss Earle from the moment of the professor's en- 
 trance, and was confident not only that they had met 
 before, but that there was some secret cause of em- 
 barrassment on Katey's side, " it must have been 
 very tiresome ; but she was with friends, I believe. 
 Did you not say that you met friends upon the 
 train ? " 
 
 Katey had risen from her seat and crossed the 
 room, trailing the little bright shawl after her. She 
 did not appear to have heard the question. " I am 
 very tired," she said, addressing Miss Hersey ; " could 
 I be shown to my room ? " 
 
 " 0, certainly," Miss Hersey responded quickly, 
 rising and leading the way, when Katey had made 
 a dignified " adieu, which included the whole room. 
 "I beg your pardon ; I forgot that you were still in 
 your bonnet." 
 
 They crossed the great music-room, and descended 
 a few steps to the wide veranda, enclosed on three 
 sides by the buildings, and open to the garden upon 
 the fourth, at the further end of which was a door, 
 which Miss Hersey unlocked ; here they found them- 
 selves in a narrow hall, with the school-room up< n 
 the right, shrouded in darkness now, and a flight of 
 stairs just before them. 
 
 " We might have come through the school-room," 
 said Miss Hersey ; " but it is so much more direct
 
 176 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 that we usually cross the veranda, as you will find. 
 This is my hall," she added, as they reached the top 
 of the first flight of stairs. "Yours is above it; I 
 will show you ; " and she led the way. A long, wide 
 passage extended the length of the building ; upon 
 either side were ranged doors, in a long line, broken 
 upon one side by a descending stairway, which turned 
 and was lost to sight in the darkness. 
 
 The last of this line of doors proved to give en- 
 trance to Katey's apartment a cosy little corner 
 room, lighted by windows upon either side, and neatly 
 furnished. She had no regrets for the pretty, luxu- 
 rious chamber which had been her own in Delphine's 
 home. If her mind had been at ease, she would have 
 been quite content with her surroundings. 
 
 " There are no girls yet upon this hall, I think ; but 
 they will come to-morrow. My room, however, it 
 directly under yours, and if you are timid " 
 
 " 0, I am not at all afraid," Katey said, quickly, 
 longing to be alone. " But Miss Luckiwinner ? " she 
 asked, suddenly. 
 
 " Yes ; I had forgotten. I will see that she has the 
 next room ; it is not engaged, and she will probably 
 prefer to occupy it to-night, rather than stay in the 
 other house. I will attend to it." Then, with a pleas- 
 ant good night, Miss Hersey loft her. 
 
 She had lighted the gas and closed the shutters. 
 Katey's trunk had been brought up and placed behind 
 the door. She sat down beside it. It was familiar to 
 her eyes, like the face of a friend, and she had not 
 realized, until this moment, how heavy-hearted she was. 
 Could Professor Dycc send her away in disgrace? 
 No ; he would hardly do that without giving her an
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 177 
 
 opportunity to explain. But did she wish to explain ? 
 She was not at all sure that she did. Even now she 
 resented the tone in which he had addressed her. She 
 felt that he had mocked her. If he demanded an ex- 
 planation she would give it to him ; she could not do 
 less ; otherwise she would say nothing at all. Ho 
 had looked at her with surprise and suspicion the 
 first time they met ; but he had no right to judge 
 her. And that brought her mind again to Dacre 
 poor Dacre, of whom every one unless it were 
 Delphine disapproved. The air of the room was 
 close and stifling ; she turned down the gas and 
 threw open the shutters. There was something in 
 the stillness of the hot, starless night, which brought 
 back almost painfully the last time she had seen him, 
 when her cry had called him back to her. But for 
 that, she knew, he would have gone away forever. 
 Was it regret that weighed her spirit down with 
 the thought ? Poor Dacre 1 his handsome, dissatis- 
 fied face rose before her, as though she had evoked 
 it from the shadows. He loved her. He would come 
 to her. But when, and where ? Everything in the 
 future was dark and uncertain tit this moment, as 
 she closed the shutters and turned away from the 
 window. 
 
 She was falling into a troubled sleep, when there 
 came a feeble rap upon the door. " It is I," said a 
 timid voice. " It is Miss Luckiwinner. 0, please 
 open the door." Katey unlocked it quickly, to be met 
 by little Miss Luckiwinner's tear-stained face and 
 slender, white-robed figure. "Do let me come in," 
 she said. "I can't sleep, I am so frightened to be 
 alone." 
 
 12
 
 178 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Stay with me, then," said Katey, stricken with 
 compunction at having quite forgotten her. 
 
 So the trembling little figure crept into Katey's 
 bed, where she soon forgot her fears, as did Katey 
 her anxieties, in the blessed sleep of youth, which, 
 for the time, at least, wipes out all cares.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 179 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " AND ONE WAS WATER, AND ONE STAB WAS FIRE." 
 
 THE girls had returned from the long vacation ; the 
 classes were re-formed, and went on as usual, and 
 Katey had fallen naturally into the place assigned her. 
 Whatever fears she had been conscious of at first, in 
 regard to being allowed to remain, were allayed, if they 
 had not entirely vanished. The kindly relations es- 
 tablished between the other teachers and herself con- 
 vinced her that Professor Dyce had not imparted hia 
 prejudices to them. With him she still felt that she 
 was under the strictest surveillance. Often the door 
 of her class-room opened noiselessly in the midst of a 
 recitation, and he stood beside her, cold, calm, and 
 critical, yet saying nothing, and departing as he came. 
 At his first visit, she was startled and discomposed. 
 The book in her hand fell to the floor ; he restored it 
 gravely. She offered a chair ; he refused it politely, 
 but coldly. The younger girls tittered. 
 
 "Attend to the lesson," Miss Earle said, calmly, 
 though her face blazed ; and the recitation went on. 
 From that day his visits were apparently unnoticed. 
 Katey offered him no more civilities, except sometimes 
 a dignified bow if he chanced to enter in her face. 
 
 Often, when a group of girls gathered around her 
 upon the wide veranda, the favorite lounging-place
 
 180 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 after school hours in these pleasant September days, 
 so like a bit of forgotten summer, the professor's 
 form would appear in their midst. Then, if she were 
 the speaker at the moment, the words died upon 
 Katey's lips. Sometimes in the evening, when she 
 had taken her work for an hour down into the study 
 hall, where the other teachers were gathered and Pro- 
 fessor Dyce sat enthroned, looking up from her needle 
 she would find the sharp gray eyes fixed upon her 
 with a puzzled, strange expression, which sent the 
 stitches all awry. His class-room adjoined her own. 
 She had caught a glimpse of its arrangement more 
 than once through the half-open door. He had fitted 
 it for a study as well as class-room, with a comfort, and 
 even luxury, which made the others seem bare by 
 comparison. The teachers were accustomed to seek 
 him here, to offer complaints, or ask advice or assist- 
 ance, Katey met them often as she came from or went 
 to her classes. Indeed, hardly a day passed in which 
 Miss Wormley's teetering step and high-pitched voice 
 were not heard outside the door. She alone had never 
 entered his room. She had no complaints to make, no 
 aid to ask ; her duties were simple and plain. 
 
 She had drawn Clary Luckiwinner away from the 
 other girls one afternoon. Clary was a dull scholar at 
 best, but in French verbs she was well nigh hopeless. 
 Katey, seeing her pore over them day after day, en- 
 deavored to drill her out of school hours, by a method 
 of her own. It was half an hour before tea, and the 
 long file of girls detailed for afternoon exercise had 
 just returned. They filled the veranda, they chattered 
 in the study-hall and upon the stairs, they had even in- 
 vaded her own room upon some flimsy pretext.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 181 
 
 "I know of but one quiet place/' Katey said. 
 " Come, Clary." 
 
 She would not seek her class-room. Its neighbor- 
 hood to the professor's sanctum made her avoid it at 
 all times when it was possible to do so. But under 
 the music-room was a great, dimly-lighted hall, where 
 no one could disturb them for a time. It was a kind 
 of lumber-room, with boxes ranged against the walls. 
 One of these, tall and narrow, held a skeleton, with 
 which the older girls delighted to frighten the more 
 timid, by touching the spring attached to its jaws, and 
 causing it suddenly to gnash its hideous teeth. Oppo- 
 site this was a door barred by a stationary table hang- 
 ing flat against the posts ordinarily, but raised on 
 Friday afternoons, when the clothes were given out 
 from the store-room here connected with the laundry 
 in the rear. This was the province of Mrs. Jones 
 the jimber-jawed woman who had come from New 
 Hampshire unattended. At other times the hall was 
 only used as a passage between the new building 
 as the one containing the school-room was called 
 and the dining-room, and mostly in the extremely cold 
 or stormy weather, when it would be uncomfortable to 
 cross the sheltered veranda. It was here that Katey 
 led Clary to remain until the horrible gong, always 
 beaten in this place, should announce tea, and drive 
 them away. Curled upon one of the great boxes, her 
 back resting fearlessly against the high, red case con- 
 taining the skeleton, Katey opened the grammar. 
 '' Now, Clary, which is it ? The third ? Or shall we 
 look over the exercise first?" The two heads were 
 very close together as they turned the leaves to find 
 the place, when suddenly, without voice or warning,
 
 182 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 a well-kept but by no means small hand reached over 
 and between them, and the book disappeared. Clary 
 littered a sharp little scream. Even Katey caught 
 her breath. Had the skeleton become reanimated? 
 Certainly no skeleton ever displayed such muscular 
 fingers as those which bad closed over the book in her 
 lap. She remembered now that this hall was the di- 
 rect passage from the class-rooms to the library, to the 
 president's office, and, indeed, the whole of the story 
 above, as well as to the dining-room upon this floor ; 
 and with the indignation in her face there was blended 
 no surprise to see Professor Dyce standing before her, 
 coolly turning the leaves of the French Grammar, as 
 she descended from her undignified position, and 
 walked away without a word, leaving Clary to remain 
 or follow, as she chose. Clary, whose intuitions were 
 not especially keen, chose to stay. She was not at all 
 afraid of Professor Dyce, who, although reserved in 
 his intercourse with the girls, was yet too thoroughly 
 just in his dealings to fail to win their respect, and a 
 kind word or two bestowed upon Clary in the days of 
 her desolation had made her his faithful servant. She 
 began now with an elaborate explanation of the cir- 
 cumstances which had brought them here, ending 
 with a eulogy upon Katey's patient endeavors in her 
 behalf. " It makes no difference how tired she is ; she 
 hears me say them every day," she added, in con- 
 clusion. 
 
 " But Miss Earle does not have the French classes." 
 
 " 0, no ; Miss Wormley has us beginners. But it is 
 
 very kind in Miss Earle," Clary ventured. It had 
 
 dawned upon her at last that there was something like 
 
 disapproval in the professor's manner.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 183 
 
 " Yes," lie said, thoughtfully, giving her the book, 
 and passing on. 
 
 Katey's steps were quickened when once out of the 
 professor's sight. Passing the school-room, she saw 
 that it was empty now. Her eyes were full of angry 
 tears, and there was a choking sob in her throat. The 
 awful shriek and wail of the gong sounded in her ears. 
 She could not go on to her room, meeting half the 
 school upon the way. She turned in here, and passed 
 down the length of the room to one of the desks in the 
 last row. The shutters were closed to keep out the dust 
 whirling through the narrow streets in the September 
 wind ; the light was dim here ; no one would notice 
 her. She was shaded, too, by the heavy, winding 
 stairway behind her, beginning in a broad step or two, 
 then branching off on either side, and leading to the 
 dormitory halls above. No one would descend here ; 
 these stairs were never used except upon grand occa- 
 sions. The last shriek of the gong like a voice 
 from Pandemonium had died away. She would not 
 heed the summons; Clary alone would miss her 
 Clary, who followed her like a spaniel, and with whom 
 she could not be trusted, it seemed ; and for the mo- 
 ment the anger that rose within her dried away her 
 tears. 
 
 The place was very still. The bustle and din of 
 the town were shut out from her retreat. The very 
 quiet soothed and calmed her after a while. She 
 crossed her arms upon the desk, and laid her head 
 upon them. A gentle drowsiness stole over her 
 the rest which comes after a sharp pain. She was 
 roused by a step upon the veranda a quick, resound- 
 ing step belonging to no one of the girls. It would
 
 184 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 pass on. But to her terror it drew nearer and nearer. 
 She would not raise her head. The shadows would 
 hide her. It came down the aisle, it paused beside 
 her. She lay quite still, but stifled by the frightened 
 beating of her heart. It was Professor Dyce, she 
 knew. One moment, then he moved softly away as 
 though he thought she slept. 
 
 She raised her head when the door had closed after 
 him. There was a rustle of garments behind, and 
 yet above her. She turned quickly. Did she dream 
 it? Or had she seen at that moment Miss Wormley's 
 blinking eyes peering down from the winding stairs 
 behind her ? 
 
 There was the rush of slippered feet upon the ve- 
 randa, the sound of sharp, shrill voices, the door was 
 flung open, tea was over, and the girls streamed by 
 and in at the farther end of the room. 
 
 Some one approached with anxious haste, bearing a 
 little tray carefully. It was Clary Luckiwinner, her 
 face aglow. " I have brought you some tea and toast ; 
 and I begged Mrs. Jones to give me a bit of marma- 
 lade ; " and she set her tray down upon the desk. 
 
 " But I have a headache. I did not care for any- 
 thing. How did you know I was here ? " Katey said, 
 quickly. 
 
 " 0, Professor Dyce told me that you were asleep in 
 the school-room. And he said perhaps Mrs. Jones 
 would let me carry some tea to yon. It is quite like 
 a picnic isn't it?" Clary went on, spreading a fresh 
 napkin over the desk. 
 
 So she was indebted to Professor Dyce? He had 
 repented, then, of his rudeness. Perhaps he had come 
 to tell her so. She was still sore and hurt, and by no
 
 IT (AMI-; j)\v\ THE AISI.I:, IT I-AISKH JSKSIDK UKK. I'
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 185 
 
 means inclined to forgive him ; but she was faint also, 
 and feverish with thirst ; so she drank the tea thank- 
 fully, and ate the thin slices of toast which Clary's de- 
 lighted hands spread for her. 
 
 She would not stay in her own room that evening, 
 as she was at first inclined to do. She was too proud 
 to hide, as though she were sorry or ashamed. And 
 yet she shrank from meeting the professor again. 
 She waited until past the hour of assembling in the 
 study-hall, and then stole down the stairs, and slipped 
 into a seat near the door. It was Friday evening. 
 There were no lessons for the next day to be learned. 
 The girls had gathered in knots, sewing in hand, wait- 
 ing for some one of the teachers to read aloud, as was 
 the custom. Miss Hersey, turning her perplexed, an- 
 noyed face towards the clock continually, rose at last 
 with some hesitation; but at that moment the door 
 opened, and Professor Dyce walked into the room, and 
 ascended to the desk. The half-suppressed voices 
 ceased as he searched among the books before him. 
 There was a perceptible frown upon the broad fore- 
 head. Some one ventured an irrelevant question. He 
 answered sharply. The girls stared, and whispered 
 to each other. He found the book he sought, raised 
 his head, and glanced over the group of teachers by 
 the door. His face cleared somewhat at sight of 
 Katey's gray-clad figure seated composedly with the 
 others, her head bent over her work. He turned the 
 pages, found the place, and began to read. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the general rules established for 
 the conviction and punishment of the Christians, the 
 fate of those sectaries, in an extensive and arbitrary 
 government, must still, in a great measure, have de-
 
 186 /CATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 pended on their own behavior, the circumstances of 
 the times, and the temper of their supreme as well as 
 subordinate rulers." 
 
 The girls yawned, and exchanged communications 
 furtively. Katey's fingers went on mechanically with 
 her work. Her thoughts wandered miles away in an 
 idle reverie. All at once they were interrupted. 
 The voice of the reader ceased. Recalled unex- 
 pectedly to the present time and place, she raised her 
 eyes involuntarily. The professor had asked some 
 question in regard to what he had read, which was 
 met by the blankest silence. He turned from his in- 
 attentive hearers, and misinterpreting the startled ex- 
 pression upon Katey's countenance, his face resumed 
 its usual tranquillity. " You may reply, please." 
 
 The work fell from her hands. She stammered and 
 blushed, feeling every eye upon her. " I beg your par- 
 don ; I I was not listening," she was obliged to say. 
 
 The book closed with a snap. " There will be no 
 more reading to-night ; " and the professor descended 
 from his desk, and quitted the room. 
 
 The assembly broke up in confusion, but not before 
 Katey had caught Miss Wormley's whispered exclama- 
 tion, " Stupid 1 " 
 
 Yes, it was thoroughly stupid. How could she 
 have done so ? She was humbled and penitent. 
 
 " Don't mind it at all," said gentle Miss Severance 
 in her ear, as they were leaving the room. " It would 
 have been the same with any of us ; we were not pay- 
 ing the least attention." 
 
 "It was so unlike Professor Dyce," added Miss 
 Hersey. " I never knew him to read Roman History 
 before on Friday evening."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 187 
 
 Saturday morning was a time of unrestrained liberty 
 to the girls. They came and went as they chose, 
 making purchases, or paying visits, if they were so 
 fortunate as to have friends in the town. Katey, 
 bound by no restrictions upon other days, was glad 
 to stay within doors to enjoy the unusual quiet of the 
 deserted school-room and empty halls. She had 
 finished a letter to Delphine, and was on her way now 
 to leave it upon the desk in the school-room, from 
 which the letters were gathered at certain hours. 
 Some one ran against her at the foot of the stairs. It 
 was little Maria Chillson, one of the youngest girls in 
 the school, all in a flutter of haste and flying ribbons. 
 " 0, Miss Earle, I was coming to your room. I have 
 got something for you." She pulled and tugged at 
 her pocket, bringing out neither cake nor candy, 
 with which that receptacle was usually filled, but a 
 note. 
 
 From whom could it be ? There was no postmark 
 or stamp upon it, and the handwriting was strange to 
 her. She turned it over and over ; there was no mis- 
 take. " Miss Katherine Earle," the superscription 
 read. 
 
 " Where did you get this ? " 
 
 " A gentleman gave it to me on the street. He 
 went away to write it, and came back again. And he 
 asked me ever so many questions, too, if you had to 
 sit in thfe school-room evenings, and all that," the 
 child added, carelessly. It was nothing to her. She 
 was impatient to be gone again. The precious mo- 
 ments were slipping away. 
 
 Katey sat down upon the stairs, seized with a sud- 
 den trembling. It had come at last, then. He had
 
 188 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 not forgotten her. She had not trusted him in vain. 
 And he was so near ! She rose up hurriedly, and was 
 hastening up the stairs, holding the precious letter 
 tight in her hand, when she remembered the child. 
 " Maria ! " she called. The blue ribbons were half 
 way across the veranda. They came back drooping, 
 and slowly. She took the child in her arms. " I want 
 to tell you something," she said. "You must never 
 do this again. You must never listen to any stranger 
 upon the street. Will you remember ? " 
 
 "Yes, ma'am;" but the child made an impatient 
 movement to free herself from Katey's arm. 
 
 " And now you had better come with me." 
 
 " But I want to go out again. I " 
 
 " You are too young to go out alone. It must not 
 happen again. Never mind," as the heavy little 
 countenance fell into a still more forlorn expression of 
 disappointment, "I will go with you some afternoon 
 next week ; and now you may come and sit with me, 
 if you choose, until the others return ; " and she bore 
 her off. 
 
 The note fairly burned in her pocket; but she 
 would not open it before the child. She taxed her- 
 self to amuse her little prisoner, so that she should not 
 feel her bonds ; and the child passed a happy hour, 
 until the gong sounded for dinner, calling them both 
 below. It seemed as though the dinner hour would 
 never pass. It was, indeed, the most unrestrained 
 and social meal of the week ; where the girls brought 
 to eager telling their exploits and adventures of the 
 morning, and at which more than half of them ap- 
 peared in their hats and shawls as they came in 
 from the street.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 189 
 
 Dinner over at last, she was waylaid as she passed 
 Miss Hersey's hall, and led away to her room for a 
 long consultation about various school matters, which 
 seemed to Katey strangely trivial and unimportant, 
 longing, as she did, to be set free. Even when she 
 had gained her own room, Clary followed close in her 
 footsteps to ask her advice upon her toilet for the 
 evening. It was to be one o*f the reception nights, 
 which occurred three or four times in a term, when 
 the friends of the teachers and pupils were invited to 
 pass the evening at the school. There would be music 
 and restrained conversation, with some simple refresh- 
 ments served in the music-room. Clary, upon these 
 rather mild occasions, decked herself out like a Chi- 
 nese idol. " And what will you wear ? " she asked. 
 " Please, something light and thin ; and braid your 
 hair like a crown." Katey threw open the shutters to 
 let the faint breeze steal in. A flood of torrid sun- 
 light came with it. How long the summer was a dy- 
 ing ! " I don't know ; it doesn't matter," she answered. 
 There was a brcathlessncss in her voice which had 
 nothing to do with her words. She stood in the open 
 window in the blazing sunlight, and gazed far up the 
 dusty street. Somewhere in the dull old town Caere 
 was at this moment. 0, so near ! 
 
 One after another the girls in the hall stole in. A 
 rap at the door, a faint excuse until the place was full. 
 She might run away and leave them in possession ; 
 but where should she go ? The halls, the stairs, the 
 school-room, each held its knots of chattering girls. 
 The skeleton-room was not to be thought of again, and 
 she would riot venture upon her class-room, lest in the 
 narrow passage she should encounter Professor Dyce.
 
 190 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Not until the summons came to tea was the room 
 cleared; and then she followed the others. She 
 lingered to fasten the door behind her, and so stepped 
 out into the hall alone. As she passed little Maria 
 Chillson's door, she saw that three figures stood just 
 inside. They were Miss Wormley, Maria, and a dull- 
 faced girl, who would have passed through the school 
 unnoticed, but that she "was a niece of the President 
 of the United States, and subject to fits. Either of 
 these circumstances would have made her remarkable. 
 The conjunction rendered her famous. 
 
 " 1 don't know," Maria was saying, impatiently ; 
 " only he gave me the note, and " 
 
 They ali turned at Katey's step. Maria flushed 
 crimson, and hung down her head. Miss Wormley 
 came forward with unnecessary haste. " I have had 
 a note from Maria's mother ; I took it up to read to 
 her," she said. Katey turned her dark eyes full upon 
 her. It was not the truth, she knew. It was of 
 Dacre's note to her they had been speaking. They 
 had made the child tell the story. But they could not 
 take it away from her, she thought, with a great rush 
 of gladness, pressing her hand instinctively upon the 
 pocket where the precious missive still lay hidden. 
 She had hastened her steps ; she murmured something, 
 she hardly knew what, as she left them and ran down 
 the stairs and across the veranda. She feared nothing 
 at this moment ; she desired nothing but one little half 
 hour of undisturbed solitude. 
 
 She left the table before the others, slipping out 
 quietly from her seat, which was near the door. Not 
 once did she pause or glance to the right or left until 
 she had gained her own room, and fastened the door 
 behind her. Not even Clary should enter now.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 191 
 
 She drew the note from her pocket. How she had 
 longed for it ! He might have written to her openly. 
 She had scanned the letters day after day in eager 
 hope, but in vain. She had tried not to be impatient. 
 She had striven to banish her fears. She held the let- 
 ter in her hand, stroking it gently. How would he 
 write to her ? She had never received a letter in her 
 life except from Delphine, or Jack, or Josie Durant. 
 This would be quite different ; and so, at last, full of 
 hope and happiness, and a wondering as to what it 
 contained, which enhanced both, she opened the letter 
 and spread it out before her. 
 
 " DEAR KATEY," it began as Jack or Delphine 
 might have written ; but the words held a new signifi- 
 cance "I must see you. Something has happened, 
 and I am going away. Send me a line by the bearer 
 (if the stupid little fool ever gives this to you). If I 
 do not hear from you, telling me where and when I 
 can see you to-day, I shall be in the school-garden to- 
 night at nine o'clock. Do not fail to meet me. If you 
 do, I shall appear in the school-room at prayers, by 
 way of the garden and veranda. The long window 
 opening upon the veranda was left unfastened last 
 night. Did you know it ? I am inclined to attend 
 prayers in order to confound Dyce. What unlucky 
 star ever sent you to his school ? I did not recognize 
 him that day upon the street, though he knew me. It 
 came to me afterwards. He lived in Boston for years 
 always, indeed, until he went abroad. My youth- 
 ful career is perfectly familiar to him, and probably 
 my later exploits. But if he makes you uncomfortable 
 in any way, I'll well, anything you choose. I know
 
 192 /CATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 your window, Katey-did. You stood a long while be- 
 fore it lust night. You should have been sleeping, 
 young woman, to keep the dusky eyes bright. Ah, 
 Katey, Katey, it would be better if I had gone without 
 seeing you. It would be better for you if I had never 
 seen you at all. But do come to me this once. I must 
 see you. D." 
 
 The letter fell out of her hands. What did it mean ? 
 What had happened ? and where was he going? O, 
 she must see him indeed ; she would write to him at 
 once. Then she remembered that the time for that 
 had passed. He would come to the garden, expect- 
 ing to meet her there, and she must steal out to him 
 like a thief in the night ! There was no help for it 
 now. 
 
 There was a sweep of trailing gowns outside ; high- 
 pitched voices echoed through the hall ; doors opened 
 and shut ; already the girls were preparing for a de- 
 scent to the dull festivities. She thrust the letter 
 into her pocket as a low rap sounded upon the door. 
 
 " 0, please," begged Clary Lucki winner, entering 
 timidly, " will you tie my sash ? But you are not 
 dressed ! Are you not going down ? " 
 
 " Don't wait for me," Katey replied ; " I fear I shall 
 be late." 
 
 " But you will wear some of my flowers ? " 
 
 And Clary, prodigal of sweets, dropped a handful 
 of blossoms upon Katey's dressing-table as she hastened 
 away.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 THE BED EOSE CEIES, " SHE IS 5EAB, SHE IS BEAB." A5D 
 THE WHITE EOSE WEEPS, "SHE IS LATE.'' 
 
 THE company had gathered in the music-room and 
 the library adjoining; the girls were grouped 
 about one of the pianos, with Professor Grote darting 
 here and there, arranging the music, whimpering a 
 _ _ ^stion, and finally taking his place behind the 
 player, and signifying by an upward motion of his 
 head and baton that the madrigal, rehearsed so often 
 for a month past, might now begin. Katey, drawing 
 back behind Professor Paine, glanced at the clock just 
 over Professor Grote's head. The minute and the 
 hour hand had almost met at nine. The tune had 
 come. She must slip away now while they were 
 singing. Refreshments would follow, and she would 
 not be missed for a little time. But still she did not 
 go. She only stood quite still, staring as though 
 fascinated at the hands of the clock, while the song 
 the girls were chanting rang through her head : 
 
 " I lore my lore in the morning, 
 for ihe, Eke the morn, is fair is to." 
 
 At the last moment her courage had failed her, and 
 jet she must go. 
 
 Professor Dvce, standing just within the library door, 
 13
 
 194 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 watched her curiously. What had suddenly checked 
 the very breath, as it seemed, upon her lips? At 
 what was the girl staring with such intent and almost 
 frightened gaze? When he looked again she was 
 gone. She had opened the door behind her, and 
 crossed the veranda to the school-room. A pile of 
 shawls lay upon one of the desks here ; she caught up 
 one as she passed, wrapped it about her, and then ran 
 down the stairs leading to the class-rooms, at the foot 
 of which was a door opening under the high veranda 
 upon the garden. The hall was dark ; but the door 
 once found, it was easy to turn the key in the lock. 
 The cool evening air touched her face. There was a 
 faint rustling outside. But it was only the dead 
 leaves of the woodbine swirled by a sudden gust of 
 wind. % The garden was not an inviting place at its 
 best, and was gloomy enough at this hour. It was 
 raised above the street, from which it was separated by 
 a wall. This wall, with a row of half- dead poplars, 
 extended also across one side, shutting it in from its 
 neighbors. The two school-buildings completed the 
 square. The ground was irregular and grass-grown, 
 showing by daylight faint traces of paths and flower- 
 beds. It was denuded of everything now, save these 
 old poplars and a clump of willows overhanging the 
 street close by the school-buildings. 
 
 She gathered the white drapery of her gown about 
 her, and listened a moment before stepping out. 
 There was no sound from the veranda, and the win- 
 dows of the practising-closets, overlooking the garden, 
 were silent and dark. A form moved out from the 
 clump of willows, and came to meet her. What if it 
 should not be Dacre, after all? He caught her as she 
 shrank back.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 195 
 
 " Katey ? Why, how white you are even to your 
 face ! Did I frighten you ? " 
 
 " 0, how dared you come ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 "Dared!" He laughed scornfully. "I tell you, 
 Katey, if you had not met me I would have " 
 
 "Hush! hush!" for his voice had risen danger- 
 ously. 
 
 " Come away, then ; " and he led her down to the 
 foot of the garden. 
 
 Overhead the stars shone bright and clear ; but a- 
 soft, dusky cloud seemed to have dropped upon the 
 earth. Was it this which had suddenly come between 
 them? The slender branches of the willows stirred 
 with a faint, sighing sound ; a fitful wind rustled the 
 dead leaves upon the grass ; a passing step below 
 lagged, and paused, then went on, growing faint at 
 last in the distance. 
 
 " What are they doing in there ? " Dacre motioned 
 towards the house. 
 
 " They were singing when I came out. I can only 
 stay a moment ; they would miss me," she added, 
 quickly. 
 
 " And if they did? if they found you here " 
 
 " I should be disgraced before them all." 
 
 "Forme;" and there was something like triumph 
 in his voice. 
 
 " It would do nothing for you," she said, sadly. 
 
 She had been filled with apprehension, and yet with 
 a strange joy at the thought of seeing -him again. 
 Does anything ever come to us as we dream it will ? 
 Was it because of this other, lesser fear of being found 
 here of being shamed before the school that c>vrii 
 the wonder and anxiety which his note awakened had
 
 196 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 fled now, and she was conscious only of what? 
 Was it disappointment? 
 
 " A plague on respectability ; it is too delicate a 
 garment for me," he said, with a laugh which jarred 
 upon Katey even more than the words. " I threw 
 mine away some time ago." 
 
 " Hush ! " she said again. " It pains me to hear you 
 speak so, even in a jest. Tell me about all these 
 weeks since I saw you last. I have only a moment 
 to stay." 
 
 "Tell you?" he said, turning upon her fiercely. 
 " You don't know what you ask. You have not heard, 
 then ? They have not written you ? " he went on, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I have heard nothing but what you yourself wrote 
 me." All her anxiety returned now. " 0, what has 
 happened ? Where are you going ? " 
 
 But he did not seem to hear her question. " They 
 will gay hard things of me, I know ; but, Katey," and 
 he clutched her arm so that with difficulty she re- 
 frained from crying out, " you will not believe them ? " 
 
 Was it the pain brought the sob with her words ? 
 " I will believe you. Tell me the truth. Tell me 
 now, Dacre." 
 
 Suddenly the sound of voices broke out into the 
 night. There was the sweeping of garments over the 
 veranda. " I must go," whispered Katey. " I have 
 staid too long. But don't leave me so. Come to the 
 house, and ask for me to-morrow." 
 
 " Come to the house ! Not I. Do you go to church 
 ever in the evening ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And alone ? "
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 197 
 
 " Sometimes." 
 
 " I'll see you then to-morrow night. No matter 
 when and where ; I shall not miss you." He swung 
 himself over the wall, and disappeared. 
 
 The voices had ceased. It was only a party of 
 girls crossing the veranda. They had passed on, and 
 the place was still again. Katey stood for a moment 
 leaning against the wall where he had left her. And 
 this was the meeting she had looked forward to for 
 weeks past ! This was the new life which was to 
 come to him through her ! What had happened to 
 him she could not tell, but no good, she was sure. 
 And for the first time she realized the burden she had 
 taken upon herself realized how little she could hope 
 to influence him, and how ready he was to fall into the 
 old channels which led, she knew not where, but away 
 from everything good, and honest, and true. But she 
 had known something of this from the first, if she had 
 only paused to think, if she had only acknowledged it 
 to herself; should she turn away from him, noW that 
 he was in trouble? 0, no; never! She would be 
 true to him in the face of the whole world, though her 
 heart was heavy and sad, and full of forebodings as 
 she made the vow. She crossed the garden, locked 
 the door behind her, and ran up the stairs without 
 meeting any one. It was only when her hand was 
 upon the door of the music-room that she remembered 
 the shawl still wrapped about her shoulders. She 
 carried it back to the desk where she had found it. 
 Then. she saw that the pretty white gown, whose folds 
 she held, was wet with dew. She shook it out while 
 she waited a moment to still her hurried breathing 
 before joining the others.
 
 198 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 The music-room was quite deserted ; the company 
 had returned to the parlors. As she stood a moment 
 in the library, where some of the girls lingered, a 
 voice spoke in her ear, " What a fine color ! Pray 
 where did you find it ? " She turned, and met Miss 
 Wormley's face drawn into a smile that was more than 
 half a sneer. " Ah, what a pity ! You have stained 
 your gown." It was true ; the slimy moss from the 
 wall had left its mark. " It is still quite fresh ; let 
 me remove it ; " and she took out her handkerchief. 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself; it is nothing," Katey re- 
 plied, coldly ; but growing red and white by turns as 
 she drew her dress away, while the girls, grouped 
 about eating their ices, looked up to wonder, not un- 
 derstanding this by-play. There had been another 
 silent witness of the scene, who came forward now. 
 " Allow me ; you have not been served, I see," Pro- 
 fessor Dyce said, putting a plate into Katey's hand. 
 He seemed to have forgotten his annoyance at her 
 stupidity the other evening, as well as the part of spy 
 lie had played the day before, as, turning his back 
 upon and quite ignoring Miss Wormley, he chatted 
 gravely, but graciously, for the few moments before the 
 breaking up of the company about what she could 
 not have told. She only felt grateful that his words 
 called for rare and brief response, and served to banish 
 her tormentor. 
 
 She was passing through the music-room on her 
 way to breakfast the next morning, when President 
 Humphrey called to her from the library. 
 
 " Pray, calm your fears," he said, as she answered 
 the summons with a sinking heart, which showed it- 
 self in her startled face ; we have no fault to find with 
 you have we, Dyce?"
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. * 199 
 
 Then she saw that Professor Dyce was writing be- 
 fore the table by the window. " I beg your pardon ? " 
 he said, interrogatively, raising his eyes for an instant, 
 and then returning to his writing again. 
 
 The president laughed as he shuffled the letters in 
 his hand. He was greatly amused at the awe he 
 fancied his presence had inspired in the mind of his 
 junior teacher. " Miss Katherine Earle," he read, 
 selecting one. " It was for this I called you back, 
 not to scold you. Dyce, here, gives me a very good 
 account of your stewardship." So he had praised 
 her ! The pen had ceased to scratch over the paper 
 at the other end of the room. Professor Dyce raised 
 his head. " You have managed your classes exceed- 
 ing well," he said. 
 
 That was all ! There was a reservation, she felt, in 
 his tone and his commendation. She made a little 
 comprehensive courtesy as she received her letter. 
 It might imply thanks, if he chose to consider it so ; 
 at least it hid the tears which sprang to her eyes. 
 Then she quitted the room. 
 
 The letter was from Delphine. She had recognized 
 the handwriting even before the president gave it to 
 her. She remembered Dacre's words, " Delphine or 
 Jack will write you." Then came the appeal, " But 
 you will not believe them ! " What was she not to 
 believe ? She had hardly courage to open the letter 
 when she was once locked into her room. Hero she 
 might stay through all the morning, alone. It was 
 not her turn to take the girls to church, and her ab- 
 sence would not be remarked upon. 
 
 " My dear Katey," the letter said, " how dreadful it 
 is that Dacrc Home should be involved in that bank
 
 200 
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 affair ! I really can think of nothing else. The cash- 
 ier told Robert that he doubted if it could be proved 
 that he was one of the gang ; but there was no doubt 
 about it in his own mind. They have caught some of 
 them, as you may have heard. I cannot but hope 
 he may escape, however. It would be so painful for 
 the family even if he were not convicted. And to 
 think we have known him so well ! Of course, now, 
 we shall never see him again. I am sorry we met him 
 so often at the sea-side ; indeed, I regret that he ever 
 came there at all. I used to fancy sometimes that he 
 was fond of yon ; I fairly shudder at the thought ; and 
 yet, how foolish to refer to it; I was mistaken, of 
 course. But how shocking it is ! Where he is now, 
 no one knows. It is supposed that he has escaped to 
 Canada. But enough of this ; " and she proceeded to 
 speak of other matters, which were as sticks and 
 straws to poor Katey, who stared at the words, taking 
 in nothing of their meaning. As to the first part of 
 the letter, it was impressed as by fire upon her brain. 
 They all condemned him ; they all believed him guilty ; 
 but there rose within her a conviction, a blessed con- 
 viction, without which she felt she must have fallen 
 where she stood, that he had spoken the truth to her 
 the night before, and that he was innocent. Nothing 
 should shake her in this belief. 
 
 And Dclphine had fancied he was fond of her ; but 
 iirknowledged now that she had been mistaken ! Del- 
 phine, who had encouraged him ; who had talked to 
 IKT <>f how cruel society had been to this handsome 
 boy ; who had sat through all the long summer days 
 with her hands folded in her lap, giving countenance 
 to the pretty play which seemed to end like a tragedy ;
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 201 
 
 who had even pleaded with her for him ! Had she 
 forgotten it all ? In truth, poor Delphine had written 
 from her perplexity and self-reproach, hoping, by ignor- 
 ing the past, to warn her of the future, if, indeed, 
 warning were necessary. But she misjudged Katey. 
 To one who has enlisted heart and soul in a warfare, 
 the time to waver is not when the foe appears ; to one 
 who has really taken upon himself vows, the time to 
 doubt is not when the rack is brought out. She would 
 never desert him now. 
 
 She folded up the letter, and laid it away. She was 
 dizzy and ill, and yet she must not be ill. She must 
 see him to-night, at any cost. She would rest now ; 
 and she crept into bed, forcing herself to compose her 
 body and close her eyes, and so she lay through all 
 the long morning. Sleep was impossible ; but she 
 would rest, she said over and over again. Clary came 
 at noon, and brought a cup of tea, and at night she 
 rose and dressed herself, and went down with the 
 others.
 
 202 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A CHAIN TO WEAR. 
 
 YOU arc going out ! " exclaimed Clary, in a 
 , tone of disappointment, as Katey passed her 
 open door, an hour after tea, dressed for the street. 
 
 " Yes," Katey replied. She would not say " to 
 church," though the words sprang to her lips. She 
 felt that she should not go to church. Then she went 
 on hurriedly, lest Clary should question her further. 
 As she crossed the music-room, the door at the foot 
 of the stairs, which led to the dormitories above, 
 opened, and some one brushed past her. It was Miss 
 Wormley, attired in her hat and shawl, and evidently 
 on her way to the street. The sight brought a mo- 
 mentary surprise, for Miss Wormley, Katey knew, 
 was in the habit of gathering the girls upon her hall 
 into a Bible class Sabbath evenings. The library was 
 empty, the door of the school- parlor was half open ; 
 before one of the windows stood Miss Wormley, who 
 had not yet gone out, fastening her glove. But Katey 
 did not glance in. She opened the outer door, and de- 
 scended the high steps. No one was in sight; the 
 sky was overcast, and already the twilight had gath- 
 ered. What if she should miss him, after all ? She 
 moved slowly up the street, hearing the faint echo of 
 a step behind her. Did it follow her ? It drew nearer,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 203 
 
 gaining upon her each moment. It was Dacre, she 
 knew now, and turned to meet him. He took her 
 hand and laid it in his arm without speaking. Even 
 in the dim light she could see how haggard, and worn, 
 and changed was his face. He was hunted, she 
 knew. Even now his pursuers might be upon his 
 track. Involuntarily she drew near to him. Lights 
 were beginning to shine in the windows along the 
 street, where the curtains were not yet drawn. There 
 were mothers with children in their arms, there were 
 children alone, and once she caught a glimpse of two 
 lovers, sitting within the circle of soft light, with 
 clasped hands and heads bent close together, while 
 Dacre and she wandered on up the deserted street in 
 the dreary darkness. Did he wait for her to speak ? 
 
 " I have had a letter from Delphine," she said, at 
 last. 
 
 Her hand was within his arm. She felt him start. 
 
 " She told a hard story, I'll warrant," he said, dog- 
 gedly. 
 
 " She told no story at all. She referred to to 
 what had happened, as though I knew it already ; and 
 she said " 
 
 " That I did it," broke in Dacre. I had nothing to 
 do with it. I tell you, Katey, I knew nothing at all 
 about it until it was over." 
 
 Some one passing upon the other side of the street 
 paused, as if to listen, as the excited voice rose above 
 the stillness of the Sabbath night. 
 
 " 0, come away ; " and Katey hastened her steps. 
 " Do come away j " and she drew him on up the street. 
 Had some one followed them ? But no ; the step 
 sounded again upon the walk, over the way, slowly 
 retreating.
 
 204 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 "What did she say, then? " 
 
 " That you were suspected." 
 
 " But I was ten miles from the place." 
 
 " Then why was your name mentioned ? " 
 
 " Because I had been seen, occasionally, with Blake 
 and Dugan, who were caught." 
 
 So these were his associates ! A companion of 
 thieves ! 
 
 " And these were your friends ! " she said. " 0, 
 Dacre ! Dacre ! " 
 
 " Yes, I know," he answered, moodily, " you are 
 prejudiced, like every one else. But a man must have 
 some friends, and they are not so bad, after all. Poor 
 Katey I " he went on, more gently. " I would have 
 kept it from you if I could. I might, but for Del- 
 phine's cursed interference. The world has cast me 
 off, Katey. I stand upon one side, and you upon the 
 other. There is a sea between us." 
 
 " Because you have drifted away. Come back. O, 
 it is so cruel ! it breaks my heart ! " she cried. They 
 had gone on without aim or purpose, turning into one 
 street after another, and descending the hill again at 
 last. The wall of the school garden, which Dacre had 
 scaled the night before, rose beside them now. Ka- 
 tey's violent sobs attracted the attention of a plainly- 
 dressed woman, who looked back as she passed. 
 Dacre drew her across the street, where no flaring 
 light lit up the darkness. Here was a church in pro- 
 cess of erection. The confusion of brick and stone 
 rendered the walk almost impassable. They threaded 
 their tortuous way to the great arched door, where 
 they could find a shelter and a screen. Katey sank 
 down upon the stone threshold, and buried her head
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 205 
 
 in her arms. " Don't," Dacre said, impatiently, laying 
 a heavy hand upon her shoulder ; " I hate to see a wo- 
 man cry." 
 
 She strove hard to control herself. She raised her 
 face, all wet with tears. " It was the disappointment 
 and the pain," she said. " I thought it would be dif- 
 ferent, and it is so dreadful to bear ! Try to be patient 
 with me, Dacre ; it is all so dreadful to bear I " 
 
 " Why don't you curse me, and wash your hands of 
 me, then, like the rest of them ? " 
 
 He did not mean to be cruel ; he was beside himself 
 with remorse and anxiety, and a shame he would not 
 own. 
 
 " How could I ? " she replied, with a kind of wonder 
 in her eyes. 
 
 His face dropped into his hands. He was not 
 ashamed to be ashamed at last. " I am not worth one 
 of your tears," he said. " I'll tell you the truth now, 
 if never again : You are wild to care for me. It can 
 bring you nothing but unhappiness. Forget that you 
 ever knew me ; leave me to go to my own place alone. 
 I shall find it soon enough," he added, bitterly. 
 
 " It is too late for that, unless are you tired of 
 me, Dacre ? Am I a burden to you ? " 
 
 " Tired of you ! Good God Katey ! don't tempt a 
 man. Think a moment. Let me be honest with you for 
 once. Think what all this will bring upon you. If you 
 keep faith with me, there will be a secret to carry, 
 for years, perhaps ; and what a reward at last ! to 
 bear my name and share in my disgrace ! " 
 
 She shook her head. " I cannot give you up." 
 
 " Then come away with me ! " he exclaimed, stretch- 
 ing out his arms to her. " Marry me to-night. Be-
 
 206 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 fore morning I must be miles from here. What do 
 you care for those stupid prigs over there?" mo- 
 tioning towards the school. " What are they to you ? 
 Nothing at all. Jack and Delphine have their own 
 interests ; you are alone in the world. Come ! " 
 
 Why should she not ? Had not Delphine made the 
 path plain before her feet ? And Jack was lost to her 
 now ; he had Josie Durant. As for the disgrace that 
 would follow the handsome, passionate, pleading 
 face, turned towards her with the outstretched hands, 
 made that to weigh as a straw only in the balance. 
 There are moments when the world seems to drop 
 away, leaving two to stand alone, moments when 
 worldly opinions count for nothing. How would it be 
 with him ? How with her ? That was ah 1 . 
 
 " Teh 1 me," she said, " should we go alone, you and 
 I ? Where are these men whom Delphine wrote were 
 with you ? " 
 
 He hesitated. " Yes, we should go alone. At least, 
 you need never see or know them." 
 
 She caught his arm in sudden terror. " They are 
 taking you away ! " she said, and her voice was like a 
 cry. They would take you away from me ! What 
 could I do against them ? 0, stay and face it all. If 
 you love me, stay. I would never desert you, not 
 even at the worst." 
 
 " But you don't know, you don't realize. Why, 
 Katey, they might put me in prison ! " 
 
 " How could they, if you were innocent ? Or, if 
 they did, it would not be for long. There are worse 
 fates than prisons over innocent men. We wouldn't 
 mind it ; " and she drew near to him as she spoke. 
 ' Perhaps, then, these dreadful people who lead you
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 207 
 
 on would forget you. And, after a while, we would 
 come out/' she said, almost brightly, " and go away 
 somewhere, the world is so wide, you know ; we'd go 
 away where no one knew us, and begin again. Or, if 
 we chose, since you are innocent, we need not be 
 ashamed to stay, and live it down." 
 
 " You true girl ! " But he turned away from her 
 " It cannot be. I told you, Katey, there was a sea 
 between us ; and well for you. You are right," he 
 added, sadly ; " it would be madness for you to go with 
 me. I was a wretch to ask it." 
 
 A man had been moving back and forth upon the 
 opposite side of the street, so stealthily that they had 
 not noticed him. As they stepped out from the 
 arched doorway, he went on slowly, giving a low, pe- 
 culiar whistle. Dacre started. " I must go," he said. 
 Again the signal came. It caught Katey 's ear. "Do 
 they call you ?" she gasped, growing white. "Have 
 they come for you? 0, don't go. Don't go. I'll do 
 anything, go anywhere, only don't let them take you 
 away." She threw her arms about his neck, as though 
 her feeble strength could hold him. 
 
 " Hush, hush ! it is too late for that : " and he strove 
 gently to free himself. " Hush, child ; poor girl ! Be 
 brave, Katey, for I must leave you now." The street 
 was beginning to fill with people. The churches were 
 out. Katey heard the moving feet upon the walk. 
 She raised her white face. " Then you will go," she 
 said, with strange calmness. 
 
 " I must ; " and she pleaded no more. . 
 
 As they passed up the side street leading to the 
 house, followed by the dusky figure which had been 
 groping along in the shadow of the wall, a woman's
 
 208 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 skirt brushed them. A dull, pallid face, with blinking, 
 red-rimmed eyes, was turned towards them for an in- 
 stant, as Miss Wormley hastened by. 
 
 0, what did Katey care if they all saw her if they 
 all knew ? Nothing, at this moment. " Leave me 
 here," she said, when they had reached the corner. 
 She could see that crouching figure over the way, 
 like an evil spirit dogging their footsteps. But Dacre 
 went on to the high stone steps. " If they see me 
 from the house, they'll only think you have a friend, 
 Katey. They will never imagine that I am your worst 
 enemy," he added, bitterly. 
 
 The figure over the way moved out from the shadow 
 of the doorway, where it had been hidden, and crossed 
 the street towards them. Katey clutched Dacre's 
 arm. He, too, saw it draw near. The last moment 
 had come, the parting more cruel than death holding 
 out no hope for the future. He caught her cold hands 
 in his as she stood upon the steps above him. " Kiss 
 me, Katey," he said, hoarsely. She heeded neither the 
 figure moving towards them, nor the passers upon the 
 street. The windows of the house might be opened 
 wide. What did it matter to her though all the world 
 should see ? She stooped and kissed him. " My heart 
 will break," she said. Then in a moment he was gone, 
 the door had closed upon her, and she was flying, as 
 though pursued, through the house, across the ve- 
 randa, up the stairs to her own room.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FAB FROM THE EYES, FAB FROM THE HEART I 
 
 THE days were shortening now, and growing cold. 
 A rime covered the grass of the garden in the 
 early morning. The elms had scattered all their 
 leaves, and the Virginia creeper against the wall 
 moved thin, bare arms in the chilling autumn wind. 
 The wide veranda was deserted. The girls gathered, 
 after school hours, about the high stove in the music- 
 room, or in the wide dormitory halls. In the class- 
 rooms everything moved on with tedious regularity. 
 Katey discharged her duties with conscientious 
 fidelity, the more from knowing how little of her 
 heart was in them. 0, the inexpressible anxiety and 
 yearning of these days ! like that of the apostle, who 
 could wish himself accursed for the sake of his breth- 
 ren. It seemed to her that she could have borne the 
 torments of the lost, if by that means Dacre might be 
 drawn from the dangers which surrounded him. He 
 had disregarded her prayers and tears ; he had chosen 
 to go away from her ; he had deliberately taken up 
 with a life which must lead, sooner or later, to crime. 
 He had joined hands with those who set themselves 
 against society, who hold that any weapons are lawful 
 and fair in the warfare they wage with authority 
 and yet she could not give him up. She looked forward 
 14
 
 210 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 to no happy future, she saw no light in the darkness, 
 and yet she held fast to her promise and to him. She 
 could bear not to be happy, she could miss of blessed- 
 ness, if she could only rescue him from the snares 
 which held him. So far she had failed of accomplish- 
 ing her desire. She had done what she could, and it 
 had not availed. She knew nothing of him now. He 
 had written one brief note, post-marked she could not 
 tell where, full of self-reproach for the wrong he was 
 doing her, but with no hint or suggestion of plans, 
 associates, or surroundings. To this she had replied 
 at once, as he desired her to do, under cover of an- 
 other name, to a town where she was confident he 
 was not. 
 
 A month had passed since then, and she had heard 
 nothing. She could do nothing but wait arid pray. 
 She had read of men turned in the midst of their sins 
 by a mighty arm. Was it not possible now ? 0, if 
 she could but have the faith to believe, might it not 
 be so ? Many times in the day she breathed her lit- 
 urgy of confession and supplication. It bore always 
 the same burden, but yet lost never its fervent spirit 
 and strong desire. But, above all, did she not forget 
 it at church, when the whole congregation knelt, the 
 girls whispering and staring though upon their knees ; 
 it seemed as though He would be more inclined to 
 hear and heed when the minister and the people prayed 
 together. 
 
 Professor Dyce marked her in these days, a 
 gray-clad figure, with a face growing whiter and 
 more absorbed every day, slipping away from the 
 table before he had left his place, stealing through 
 the music-room in the early twilight like a ghost, too
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 211 
 
 unreal to be addressed, who would vanish away if ap- 
 proached. 
 
 She seldom came down now to the Friday even- 
 ing readings when he sat in the desk ; but the early 
 morning prayers, when the letters were distributed, 
 always found her in her place one of the last desks 
 in the room, which no one of the girls had chosen. 
 He felt the great dark eyes fixed upon him with a 
 painfully eager expression as he turned over the pile 
 of letters, reading the name upon each aloud as he 
 spread them out. He knew that the face grew still 
 whiter, the lines about the mouth more tense, as 
 one after another was laid down, even to the last. 
 Then in the confusion, as the girls rose, she vanished 
 away. 
 
 He knew more than she dreamed of his knowing. 
 He had never forgotten the day when he met her upon 
 the street with Dacre Home, when her face told its 
 own story. " Ah, poor girl, is it so ? " he had said to 
 himself, struck by the face, and knowing Dacre Home. 
 He had been inclined to think his pity wasted when 
 he met her again, decked out so fantastically at the 
 Junction ; and yet, later, when she appeared so unex- 
 pectedly at the school, when, too bewildered to act, 
 he had waited and watched, he had been inclined to 
 doubt again his judgment. Now, reading of this bank 
 robbery, which had been blazoned to the world 
 through the newspapers, and being privately advised 
 that Dacre Home was implicated, though his name 
 had not appeared, he thought, first of all, of the effect 
 upon this inexplicable girl. Ho marked her uneasi- 
 ness the night of the school reception, he missed her 
 from the room, and overheard Miss Wormley's inali-
 
 212 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 cious comments upon her return. He even interfered 
 to rid her of them, pitying her confusion. He hated 
 himself for unconsciously watching her ; he hated Miss 
 Wormley still more for slyly underrating her at every 
 opportunity. The morning after passing Katey and 
 Dacre upon the street that Sabbath evening, when, in 
 fact, suspecting something, and following her, she had 
 seen the meeting, heard Katey's irrepressible sobs, 
 and, peering from the darkened windows of the school 
 parlor, been shocked at the manner in which they 
 parted, Miss Wormley sought Professor Dyce, and, 
 in the absence of the president, laid the whole matter 
 before him. 
 
 He heard her general remarks without suspect- 
 ing their bearing, her observations upon teachers 
 who were given to clandestine meetings in the gar- 
 den, who wept upon the shoulders of young men, and 
 kissed them voluntarily at parting, yes, actually 
 kissed them from the very steps of the house, where 
 any one might see. Then, at last, she spoke Katey's 
 name. 
 
 The professor was sitting before the desk in his 
 study. He had laid down his pen reluctantly to listen 
 to her story. Complaints from Miss Wormley 's lips 
 were by no means rare, and he gave little heed to 
 what she was saying. But at the mention of this name 
 he flushed so fierce a red, he sprang so suddenly to 
 his feet, that she started back in dismay. 
 
 " Woman ! " he said, in a startling voice, " have you 
 no shame ? What are Miss Earle's friends to you or 
 me, that we should play the spy upon her?" He 
 pointed to the door, and she went out, but not before
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 213 
 
 she had turned, in her anger at being foiled, and vowed 
 to be revenged. 
 
 The professor paced the floor with rapid strides 
 when the door closed after her. He tried not to recall 
 what she had said ; but every word, carelessly as he 
 had heard it, stood out now as though in alto-relievo. 
 The various circumstances wove themselves together 
 in his mind, and it was Dacre Home, he knew, whom 
 Miss Wormley had seen with Katey. Was the girl 
 bereft of her senses ? Had she no friends to warn 
 her? 
 
 The wind and rain beat dismally against the win- 
 dow-panes of the school-room, where, in the chill, gray 
 morning light, the girls had gathered for prayers, the 
 curls pinned up hastily, the pretty feminine fineries 
 not yet assumed, as one after another straggled down 
 from the dormitories above, or ran across the veranda 
 from the other house. 
 
 A tall, slight figure, wrapped in a little red shawl, 
 stole down the broad, winding stairs at the end of the 
 room, and took its accustomed place before one of the 
 last desks, as Professor Dyce, moving the pile of wait- 
 ing letters aside, opened the Bible before him to find 
 the morning lesson. 
 
 Katey closed her eyes, and, compressing her lips, 
 waited. It would be a long chapter, fifty verses, 
 perhaps, which the girls would drone responsively, 
 about the Jews ; for the morning lessons were from 
 the Old Testament ; and the Jews seemed so far 
 away ! She waited for the voice to begin to hear 
 how such a king slew his thousands, and another his 
 tens of thousands. 0, how could she wait ? God for- 
 give her, she did not want to hear of the triumphs of
 
 214 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 His people ; she only wanted in her own hands for a 
 moment that pile of little white forget-me-nots, lying 
 upon the desk. 
 
 The professor's voice solemn, deep, low made 
 a hush to fall upon the room. " Little children, let no 
 man deceive you; He that doeth righteousness is 
 righteous, even as He is righteous. He that commit- 
 teth sin is of the devil." 
 
 Katey's heart stood still. This was not the Jews. 
 She raised her head and fixed her wistful eyes upon 
 the reader. If there would only come some word to 
 her ! " He that committeth sin is of the devil." Not 
 Dacre it could not mean Dacre ! 
 
 Again the words caught her ear, " Hereby perceive 
 we the love of God, because he laid down his life for 
 us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the 
 brethren." 
 
 And so she would gladly, God knew. Yes, this was 
 for her. 
 
 Her heart was lighter than it had been for weeks. 
 Even when the letters were taken up, and the names 
 read aloud slowly, though the blood sprang to her face 
 as her heart gave a great throb, she tried to still its 
 beating. " I can wait," she said to herself, while the 
 flush slowly died away as one name after another fell 
 upon her ear. " It will come" the answer to the 
 prayer. The girls rose ; there was confusion slowly 
 settling into silence as those who had no letters 
 hastened away, and the others soon followed. Katey 
 lingered. The shadow of disappointment had fallen 
 upon her; only the shadow, not the heavy weight 
 which had crushed her during so many weeks that 
 past. "I can wait," she was saying to herself
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 215 
 
 over and over again. The answer will surely come. 
 But if it could be soon ! 
 
 It was chilly in the school-room, and disappointment 
 is a chill. She wrapped the little shawl close about 
 her, and let her head rest again upon the desk as it 
 had lain in prayer time. A movement at the farther 
 end of the room interrupted the stillness. She raised 
 her head quickly ; she had thought herself alone. It 
 was only Professor Dyce, who had not gone, it seemed. 
 He laid the papers he had been arranging within the 
 desk, turned the key, and descended from the plat- 
 form. As he did so, his glance fell upon Katey, who 
 had risen, undecided by which mode of exit she should 
 leave the room, ashamed to make use of the stairs be- 
 hind her, lest she should appear to flee from him. He 
 decided the question by walking directly down the 
 aisle. The movement was so deliberate, that she 
 judged him to have a conscious purpose in seeking 
 her. It was something in regard to her classes, un- 
 doubtedly, and she ran them over hurriedly in her 
 mind, to recall, if possible, where she had been remiss 
 or failed in her duty. But he seemed in no haste to 
 enter upon the subject. 
 
 " You have appropriated this corner to yourself? " 
 he began, graciously, making a slight motion with his 
 hand for Katey to resume her seat. 
 
 " I come here sometimes to read ; it is very quiet 
 out of school hours, when the girls are gone," she 
 stammered, thinking what a refuge this place had 
 been. But of that she could not speak. 
 
 " But your room do the girls intrude upon you 
 there ? " 
 
 " They are always welcome."
 
 216 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Yes, I know ; " arid he smiled a little sarcastically. 
 " That is the formula one is expected to repeat. Still 
 there is a limit to all hospitality. You come here to 
 read," he repeated. " You do not go to the library, 
 then?" 
 
 " 0, yes, every day, to look over the news- 
 papers," she replied, quickly. Then she blushed, 
 feeling his keen eyes upon her. Did he know about 
 Dacre ? 
 
 " I should hardly think the detail of crimes and 
 casualties with which our press is filled just now 
 would interest you. That bank robbery, by the way, 
 was a bold operation. Planned and executed evi- 
 dently by experienced burglars. Strange how these 
 outlaws sit before the gates of society, ready to spring 
 in wherever there are signs of weakness." He had 
 removed his eyes from the bent head and trembling 
 hands which held tight the little shawl. " What can 
 be done with this class ? " he added, gently " ex- 
 cept to fight and keep it at bay ? " 
 
 The question so vital carried the girl beyond 
 herself. "0, what can be done?" she repeated, 
 eagerly, forgetting her caution, and showing all her 
 heart. 
 
 " Believe me, nothing by such as you," he re- 
 plied, earnestly so earnestly that she could not fail 
 to comprehend his meaning. " Association is contami- 
 nation ; and think of the inequality : it is one against 
 a thousand. For they are banded together like -an 
 army." 
 
 A strange light shone in Katey's face, as though the 
 sun had risen suddenly upon her. One against a thou- 
 sand ! But one and God could overcome a thousand.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 217 
 
 He wondered what should cause the radiance in 
 her countenance. Certainly not his words. He could 
 not understand the girl. 
 
 The first mutterings of the distant gong reached 
 their ears. Katey rose hastily, and with a little obei- 
 sance slipped away up the stairs behind her.
 
 218 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " AND ONE WAS FAR APART, AND ONE WAS NEAR." 
 
 HTHE Christmas holidays brought a change; many 
 J- of tlio girls went home; Jack's wedding called 
 Katey to Easton, where was Josie Duraut's home. 
 She was sitting in Josie's own room after the cere- 
 mony, in the midst of the confusion incident upon a 
 wedding, a journey, and a final departure from home. 
 The satin gown, fluffy with lace, the delicate veil and 
 wreath of orange blossoms, prepared with such care, 
 were thrown carelessly now upon the bed ; the dainty 
 slippers, iu which the dainty little lady had stepped 
 from familiar girl-land over the boundary into a strange 
 and wonderful country, dropped where the little feet 
 had left them. The bride was arrayed in her travel- 
 ling costume, for the wedding breakfast was over, 
 and the guests, with the exception of a few most 
 familiar friends, had gone. She was putting the last 
 touches to her toilet at this moment, settling the 
 elegant liUlo bonnet upon her head, and fastening her 
 gloves. " Please, Katey," she said, holding out her 
 \vrist. 
 
 " It brings back the first time I ever saw you, to 
 y.,u at all," Katey said, taking the little hand in 
 her own. " I buttoned your glove then do you re- 
 member ? The night of Janie Home's party."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 219 
 
 " How odd that you should ha,ve remembered such 
 a little thing," Josie replied. " No, I don't recall it. 
 But I remember Jack and you. Who ever would 
 have thought then that Jack and I would grow up to 
 marry each other? " Josie was little given to dream- 
 ing, but she fell into a reverie over this. 
 
 " It is all strange," said Katey ; and there was a 
 tone of sadness in her voice. Josie gave her a sharp, 
 anxious glance. 
 
 " Are you quite well, dear ? " 
 
 " 0, yes." 
 
 " I fancied you were thinner than you used to be." 
 She crossed the room upon some pretext. When she 
 returned, she paused behind Katey's chair, and, leaning 
 over, clasped the little gloved hands loosely about her 
 neck. " There is something I have wanted to speak 
 of ever since you came. But the house has been so 
 full of company that we have never had a moment 
 alone." 
 
 Katey made no reply. She had looked for this, and 
 braced herself to meet it, every day since her arrival. 
 She had ceased to expect it now, believing the whole 
 matter to have slipped from the mind of her friend. 
 
 " You have heard of that bank robbery, of course," 
 Josie went on, timidly, feeling her way, as it were. 
 " And you know what is said of Dacre ? " 
 
 " But it is not true," Katey burst out. " There is 
 no truth in it. He was miles away when the bank was 
 broken into ; " and freeing herself hastily, she rose up 
 and walked away to the window. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " Josie's face fairly paled 
 with affright. " 0, Katey ! You have not seen him ? " 
 
 But Katey had made her denial, and would say no
 
 2 20 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 more. She had promised to keep his visit a secret. 
 Had she not almost broken that promise in her eager- 
 ness to defend him ? There was the rattle of wheels 
 under the window. Jack tapped at the door. " The 
 carriage, Josie. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " Yes, in one moment." 
 
 She drew Katey's face down and kissed her. " You 
 will not trust me, but tell Jack," she said. 
 
 Katey shook -her head without speaking. Her eyes 
 were full of tears. 
 
 " But you have seen him ? " persisted Josie. 
 
 " Don't ask me ; I can't tell you ; " and yet was this 
 not almost admitting the truth ? " There is nothing to 
 tell," she added, hastily. 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " I don't know, indeed. But 0, 1 wish I did 1 " she 
 exclaimed, breaking down at last, and sobbing out- 
 right. 
 
 " 0, dear ! what can I do ? " Josie stared at her, 
 troubled and helpless, as a chorus of voices from be- 
 low called to her impatiently. 
 
 " There is nothing to do," Katey said, checking her 
 sobs. " Don't think of it again." 
 
 " But I am afraid to go away. I don't know what 
 may happen to you." 
 
 "Nothing dreadful, you may be sure," Katey re- 
 plied, with a hysterical laugh. She was angry and 
 ashamed at having thus betrayed her feelings. " I 
 shall neither run away nor drown myself, you may be 
 sure ; nor do anything else unusual. I am only tired 
 and nervous. Don't think about it ; " and she has- 
 tened to open the door. 
 
 Tears are by no means unusual at a wedding, and
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 221 
 
 Katey's wet eyes passed unnoticed. Only Jack 
 marked them, and reproached himself for having al- 
 most forgotten her in his happiness. " Remember, 
 you are to come and live with us," he said, leaning 
 out from the carriage. "Delphine, do keep Katey; 
 lock her in, if necessary, until we return." Then the 
 carriage door closed with a bang, and in a gust of 
 slippers the wedding party disappeared. 
 
 " It is absurd," Delphine said, the next morning, as 
 they sat alone over the early breakfast, 'prepared in 
 anticipation of Katey's departure by the first train. 
 " It is positively unreasonable for you to tie yourself 
 to that horrid school. Think, if Robert and I go 
 abroad next month, I shall not see you again. You 
 might, at least, go home with me for a week." But 
 Katey felt that to be impossible. The term would 
 commence the next day, and she must be in her place. 
 And then, how did she know what had occurred in 
 her absence? What if Dacre had come again? or 
 there might be at least a letter awaiting her. 0, no ; 
 she must go back at once. 
 
 " Dreadful, was it not, about Dacre Home ? " Del- 
 phine remarked, carelessly, when this question of Ka- 
 tey's return to school had been discussed and settled, 
 as it had been every day since she came. 
 
 " Yes," Katey replied, cautiously. She would be 
 wiser than she had been with Josie. 
 
 " I was so glad to find you didn't care for him," 
 Delphine went on in her pretty, hurried way. " I 
 wouldn't own it in my letter, and I don't quite like to 
 own it now, but I did half encourage his intimacy 
 with you." She had made her confession at last. 
 
 " I know you did," Katey said, quietly.
 
 222 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " And if you had learned to care for him, I should 
 never have forgiven myself. 1 ' 
 
 " How do you know that I didn't learn to care for 
 him ? " was on her lips to ask ; but she held back the 
 question. Why should she distress Delphine, who 
 intended it all for good, and had only failed in judg- 
 ment ? StilF, one word she must speak, or her tongue 
 would utter it of itself. A dangerous word ! Never- 
 theless, she would dare much to defend the innocent 
 and the absent. 
 
 " He had nothing to do with that robbery, I know," 
 she began. " He may have associated with these 
 men " 
 
 " Which is bad enough," said Mrs. Estemere, who 
 had not only lost all confidence in Dacre, but felt her- 
 self personally ill used by his making himself thus 
 shamefully notorious after having visited at her house. 
 
 " It is, indeed," Katey was obliged to confess. 
 " Still he had nothing to do with this, I am sure." 
 
 " About that, of course, we cannot judge ; but it is all 
 so thoroughly mortifying and disagreeable that we had 
 better try to forget it and him ; " and Mrs. Estemere 
 rose from the table. 
 
 Mrs. Durant entered the room at the same moment, 
 fortunately for Katey, whose prudence was fast de- 
 serting her ; the carriage was announced, and further 
 conversation was out of the question. 
 
 Delphine ran down the icy steps in her pink-bowed 
 slippers for one more last word at the carriage door. 
 " If I shouldn't see you again before we sail, you'll 
 write often, and you'll take care of yourself, child ? 
 Don't do anything foolish, away off there. There are 
 no young men ? "
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 223 
 
 " Only one," laughed Katey, remembering Mr. 
 Milde. 
 
 " Ah, well, you are the pattern of discretion." She 
 leaned in at the carriage window to kiss her warmly, 
 then ran away up the steps again. 
 
 The pattern of discretion ! If she only knew ! 
 thought Katey, lying back in the carriage as it rolled 
 away to the station. 
 
 It was almost night when she reached La Fayette 
 and the Female College. One of the little girls ran 
 after her as she passed the study-hall, to put a letter 
 into her hand. She had not been sufficiently brave to 
 walk into the room and look upon the desk for her- 
 self; she was fairly sick with anxiety. She took the 
 letter without glancing at it, and hastened on. But 
 when she had run the gantlet of teachers and scholars, 
 and, shut into her own room, at last dared to turn it 
 over and read its superscription, the second shock was 
 greater than the first. It was not from Dacre at all ; 
 it was from Mina Hauser, she saw at once. Only a 
 few lines written in haste to say they were in La 
 Fayette for a couple of days, and hoped to see her. 
 She looked at the date. It was three days before. 
 She must seek them at once. It might now be too 
 late. She hastened to retrace her steps through the 
 house, ashamed of the indifference with which she 
 had read Mina's announcement. But the disappoint- 
 ment had been bitter. She was dulled to everything 
 save this: Where was Dacre? Why was it that she 
 heard nothing from him ? Even the warm greetings 
 she met upon the way, as one group of* girls after 
 another was passed, brought no pleasure. She was 
 ill, and cold, and despairing, and yet she went on to
 
 224 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 seek her friends. There is an instinct which takes 
 the place of volition at times, and sets us in the way 
 where we ought to walk, and make us perform the 
 acts expected of us, pulling the wires, and holding a 
 mask before our faces. 
 
 She found the little hotel from which the letter had 
 been written in one of the narrow streets of the town, 
 down by the station. She was just in time ; the well- 
 worn trunks were strapped, and standing in the en- 
 trance hall. Wulf had already left the house, Christine 
 and her father were coming down the stairs on their 
 way to the street. 
 
 " Ah, is it possible ? " cried the little old man. " We 
 have sent twice to the school since Mina wrote, and 
 each time they said you had not come back." 
 
 " I have but this moment returned," Katey replied, 
 warmly kissing Christine, who seemed much brighter 
 and stronger than when they met last. After all, it 
 Avas pleasant to see them again. " I am sorry," the 
 little old man went on, " but Christine has an errand 
 she is obliged to do before we go, and we have no 
 time to lose. However, Mina is here, and you will 
 stay with her until we return." 
 
 "Ah, Katrine, is it you?" exclaimed Mina, flying 
 down the dingy stairway to embrace her. She 
 dragged her up the stairs to the stuffy little inn 
 parlor, chattering all the time, asking a hundred ques- 
 tions, and waiting for no one of them to be answered. 
 " And Christine ? " Katey said, at last, when they had 
 exhausted every other subject of mutual interest; 
 when Mina had described their wanderings since she 
 wrote, a month or two before, and mentioned the Shep- 
 parts incidentally, but with a vivid blush over the
 
 . -KATHERINE EARLE. 225 
 
 intelligence that Hans had won his place in the or- 
 chestra, and was coming to meet them at their next 
 stopping-place. 
 
 " 0, Christine is better. Don't you think so ? And 
 the young man of whom I told you has been to see 
 her. I cannot understand it," Mina said, thoughtfully, 
 " nor him. Something evidently weighed upon his 
 mind. I overheard him once reproaching himself to 
 her. He wished he was dead, he said ; he brought 
 only misery and wretchedness to everybody. And 
 now he has gone away south. I don't know for what. 
 But he has written once or twice to Christine." 
 
 " Poor Christine ! " Katey thought, she, too, has 
 her troubles," 
 
 " But, 0, Katey ! " Mina exclaimed, " I had almost 
 forgotten what I wanted particularly to tell you." She 
 went to the door and listened ; then she came back, and 
 drew a worn, crumpled envelope from her pocket. 
 Do you know, I feel as though he had deceived us all 
 the time as to his name." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because I picked this up from the floor one day ; 
 it had fallen from his pocket, and it does not bear his 
 name at all." 
 
 " Perhaps the letter was not addressed to him." 
 
 " But why should he have it, then ? I don't know ; " 
 and she shook her head slowly. " The handwriting is 
 like yours," she said, suddenly rousing herself. " See ! " 
 and, leaning forward, she put the envelope into Katey's 
 hand. 
 
 " Like mine, is it ? " Katey said, with a little laugh, 
 moving towards the window, so that the faint, last 
 rays of daylight might fall upon it. 
 15
 
 226 KATHERTNE EARLE. 
 
 But the laugh died in her throat. Like hers ? It 
 was the cover of her own letter ! And the name she 
 read, while everything whirled around her, was 
 Dacre Home ! 
 
 11 Can't you make it out ? " Mina called, from her 
 corner by the fire. " I ought to have rung for lights ; 
 but we were going so soon." 
 
 " It can't be. There is some mistake," gasped 
 Katey, finding her voice at last. 
 
 Mina came forward slowly. " I don't know ; it is 
 very strange. But how hoarse you are ! I did not 
 notice it before. And your hands are like ice. You 
 ought not to have come. Sit down here, and warm 
 yourself." 
 
 But Katey began in a flurried, absent way to fasten 
 her cloak. " No, no, I must go back." She must go 
 while she could. Presently, when she realized it all, 
 she. should drop down where she stood. All at once 
 she paused. " Tell me about him. You have never 
 described him to me." Perhaps she was mistaken, 
 after all. 
 
 " Christine has his picture. I wish you might see 
 it. Who knows? You may meet him somewhere, 
 and learn something about him. He is tall taller 
 than Wulf, and has a little stoop about the shoulders. 
 His hair is dark like yours, and his face is smooth. 
 Then his eyes " 
 
 " Yes," Katey said, faintly, " I know ; now I will go 
 home." 
 
 " But not before father and Christine come back ? " 
 
 Christine? Katey had forgotten her. Yes, she 
 must get away. How could she meet her ? Some- 
 thing like pity struggled up from the chaos in her
 
 KATI1ERINE EARLE. 227 
 
 mind ; or was it an instinct of caution made her say 
 at the very last moment, when she left Mina down at 
 the street door, " Don't tell Christine about the letter ; 
 or not now, at least. Let us think about it first. It 
 may all come right yet ; " though she knew already 
 that it could never come right for her. And Mina 
 promised, and suffered her to go, sure that she was 
 ill, but not at all suspicious as to the truth. 
 
 The wind whirled through the tortuous streets, and 
 held her back as she went on. The lowering clouds 
 threw stinging showers of sleet down with the dark- 
 ness ; but she did not heed it. She was numb to 
 sound, and sight, and feeling. It might have been a 
 summer night for all she knew. She had but one de- 
 sire, one purpose : to get back, to hide from every 
 prying, curious eye, and then ah, no matter what 
 came then. She let herself in at the door. There 
 were voices in the school parlor ; a laugh came from 
 across the hall. She hurried on. The lights burned 
 dim in the deserted library ; in the music-room a 
 group of girls hung about one of the pianos. " 0, 
 please, come and play for us to dance," they said. To 
 dance ! She murmured something, and hastened on. 
 The snow had fallen through the day, and drifted in 
 upon the veranda. How cool and refreshing it was to 
 her feet ! For now she burned as with an inward fire. 
 Some one had called after her that the door was 
 closed, she must go the other way ; but she had not 
 listened. The long window was unfastened. She 
 would not go back ; but, standing in the snow, made 
 it slide up at her touch. " The long window opening 
 upon the veranda was left unfastened last night ; did 
 you know it? " Dacre wrote once. She remembered
 
 228 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 it now as she turned the spring. The school-room 
 was dark and silent. She felt her way swiftly down 
 its length to the stairway at the end, which led up 
 and up again to her door. 
 
 She took off her outside garments, and hung them 
 in their place. She was strangely tired, and there 
 was a weight upon her brain. Why did she not 
 feel any longer this which had so shocked and dis- 
 tressed her ? She would think of it another time 
 in the morning ; and so she crept to bed.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 "I AM NOT WELL IN HEALTH, AND THAT IS ALL." 
 
 WAS it morning ? The light in the room seemed 
 dim as Katey opened her eyes. But winter 
 mornings have late twilights. It must be time to rise. 
 The call to prayers would come soon, and there were 
 the letters ! 
 
 Some one moved out from behind the head of the 
 bed, and bent over her. It was Clary Luckiwinner, 
 mopping her tear-stained face with a lace-edged hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 "Why, Clary!" 
 
 " 0, then you know me at last, dear Miss Earle ! 
 You have been dreadfully ill, and your sister is here, 
 and but 0, I must not talk to you," she broke off, 
 penitent and frightened. 
 
 Katey closed her eyes. She was so weak that 
 this little scene exhausted and confused her. So Del- 
 phine was here ! And she had been ill ! Slowly her 
 awakened thoughts travelled back to the point where 
 forgetfulness began. Then she hid her face among 
 the pillows. 
 
 Delphino came presently, and fed her with broth, 
 and bade her go to sleep, like a good child. She could 
 hear the girls whispering outside the door, where Clary 
 had gone j but even this died away upon her ear, and
 
 230 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 she lost herself again. How long a time passed she 
 did not know. She slept and woke, and slept and woke 
 again. Sometimes it was daylight upon which she 
 opened her eyes, and sometimes a soft glimmer, as from 
 a shaded lamp, filled the room ; and all the while she was 
 slowly coming back to herself. How far she must have 
 wandered in the darkness ! Her mind was growing 
 clearer. The past rose up before her, as it might, 
 perhaps, in the day of judgment, when every secret 
 thought, as well as deed, would stand revealed. It had 
 been all a lie from the beginning, she knew. He had 
 come to her with a vow to another woman upon him. 
 He had allowed himself to fall into temptation. He 
 had been too weak to go away when safety lay only 
 in flight. She herself had led him on. Unwittingly, 
 she had been a snare to him, knowing nothing of the 
 truth. She could see now how he had struggled, 
 weakly. " I am your bitterest enemy," he said. Her 
 bitterest enemy ! And yet she did not hate him. At 
 this very moment, when she knew how false he had 
 been, she felt that if he but stood in the door and 
 beckoned, she should rise and follow him. 0, he must 
 not come ; she must never see him again. He could be 
 nothing to her; she must forget him. That would 
 have been easy to do once ; but now could she ever 
 untangle these threads which had knit together the 
 two lives ? 
 
 Derphme, in her rich, dark dress, with pretty shining 
 ornaments about her neck and at her ears, sat by the 
 little table holding a lamp, knitting a hood of soft, 
 white wool. She rose hastily when Katey moved 
 among her pillows. 
 
 " How good it was in you to come ! " said Katey
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 231 
 
 stroking her hand, when she had submitted to being 
 fed, like a baby, with a spoon. Poor Katey ! Some- 
 thing had dropped out of her life, leaving it empty and 
 bare. It seemed all at once as though the world were 
 cruelly cold. The least kindness was a surprise. 
 
 " Of course I should come ! What do you mean, 
 child ? I am thankful your illness occurred when it 
 did, and not a month later, after we had gone. You 
 don't know how sick you have been, Katey." 
 
 Delphine's voice quavered. She bent over her 
 work. 
 
 " Did Jack know ? " 
 
 " I wrote a despatch for him one day, but Robert 
 said we had best not send it, unless She did not 
 finish the sentence. 
 
 So they had thought she might die ! It would have 
 been better, perhaps. It would have been easier. 
 Death settles many a vexed question. And yet there 
 was something she desired to do first. 
 
 " Has it been long ? Have I been ill a long time ? " 
 
 " Nearly a fortnight." 
 
 "Have have I had any letters, do you know?" 
 Her voice trembled, in spite of the effort to speak 
 calmly. 
 
 " Yes ; Jack and Josie have both written. You 
 shall hear their letters to-morrow." 
 
 " And that is all, you are sure? There might be 
 some mistake." 
 
 " Yes, 0, yes, that is all." 
 
 From whom did the child expect letters ? thought 
 Delphine,. carelessly. It was a sick girl's fancy, and 
 she spoke of something else. But Katey did not 
 reply. With her face hidden in the pillow, she was
 
 232 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 trying to stifle the great pang of disappointment which 
 Delphine's words had brought. And yet, why should 
 she be disappointed ? Only a moment before, she had 
 been alarmed lest he had written to her with tender 
 words ; and then where would her strength be ? She 
 must write to him at once ; she could not rest or sleep 
 again till this was done. If she could only throw her 
 arms around Delphine's neck, and tell her the whole 
 story ! But Delphine had been bitter in her denunci- 
 ations of Dacre. It would be far easier to make Jack 
 her confidant. Still, what might not Jack do in his 
 wrath ? 
 
 " I am going out for a little while," Mrs. Estemere 
 said, presently, laying down her work. " I have an 
 errand to do, and Miss Severance has kindly offered to 
 go with me. Little Miss Luckiwinner will sit by you 
 until I return. I shall caution her about talking too 
 much." 
 
 So, after a few moments, Clary crept in to take her 
 proud position beside the bed. 
 
 Mrs. Estemere's step had hardly died away before 
 Katey turned to her. " Raise my head a little, Clary, 
 and bring my writing-desk to me." 
 
 Clary stared in affright. Had Miss Earle lost her 
 senses again ? 
 
 " I want to write a letter," Katey explained. 
 
 " But you are not well enough. Mrs. Estemere said 
 I was not to talk to you." 
 
 " I don't ask you to talk to me. Only bring me the 
 desk. Please, Clary." 
 
 " 0, I don't dare to," Clary replied, trembling with 
 fright at her temerity, yet determined to be faithful to 
 her trust. "You might be ill again and die," she
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 233 
 
 gasped. " 0, 1 cannot, dear Miss Earle ; don't ask me 
 to. Wait until Mrs. Estemere comes back." 
 
 But Katey preferred that Delphine should know 
 nothing of the letter. She had made her plan, count- 
 ing upon Clary's weakness ; but it had turned to 
 strength. In vain she pleaded. Clary soon dissolved 
 to tears, but, even in a liquid state, was firm. She re- 
 sorted to reproaches, which poor Clary bore with no 
 other reply than little sniffling sobs. 
 
 " Then I shall get it for myself," she said at last, 
 with determination, making a movement as though 
 about to rise from her pillows. 
 
 Clary wrung her hands in despair. 
 
 " Wait one moment. Will you not wait just one 
 moment ? " and she ran out of the room. Now was 
 the time to execute her threat. But that was impossi- 
 ble, Katey knew. She was by far too weak. She had 
 spent her little strength in the encounter with Clary. 
 She could only lie quite still, crying weakly. 
 
 All at once Clary's little prim face, warmed into un- 
 usual life, appeared at the door. 
 
 " Then you didn't get up ? " she exclaimed, and the 
 head disappeared again. Once more it showed itself. 
 What was- the girl trying to do ? "I went down to 
 to speak to somebody ; and won't you please let him 
 talk to you about it? " she said, confusedly. A taller 
 form appeared behind Clary's little figure. 
 
 " May I come in ? " and putting Clary aside, Pro- 
 fessor Dyce entered the room. 
 
 " Miss Luckiwinncr seems to think it an occasion 
 demanding authority. What is this about writing 
 letters ? " 
 
 He came forward and took the hand lying upon the 
 coverlet, holding the wrist a moment.
 
 234 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Ah, this will not do," he said, gravely. " I thought 
 we could trust to your good sense. You will bring 
 back your fever in this way." 
 
 " But I wanted to write, just a little note," she 
 added, quickly. " I would be very quiet afterwards ; 
 I would never ask to do anything again. Only this 
 once," she begged. 
 
 He was regarding her flushed face with grave, stern 
 eyes ; but at the quaver in her voice their expression 
 changed. 
 
 " Could not Miss Clary, here, write for you? or I ?" 
 he asked, gently. So she had been crying ; her eyes 
 were still full of tears. 
 
 Katey shook her head. 
 
 " Bring me the desk," he said to Clary. She hesi- 
 tated, but she gave it into his hands. 
 
 " May I open it ? " He took out paper, and placed 
 it before her; he selected a pencil, and began to 
 point it deliberately. " Do the young ladies disturb 
 you?" 
 
 " Not at all. They have been very quiet, I am sure. 
 But my classes ? " 
 
 " Wait in hope. In the mean time, most of them 
 have fallen into my hands. There," laying down the 
 pencil, " this is to be a very brief epistle only a line 
 or two ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then Miss Luckiwinner and I will leave you for a 
 few moments ; " and he ushered Clary from the room, 
 closing the door, beside which Clary waited, however. 
 The professor paced up and down the hall, his head 
 bent, his hands clasped behind him. Clary, hearing 
 no movement within the room, ventured to leave the
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 235 
 
 door and lean upon the window-sill at the end of the 
 ball. The professor paused before her. 
 
 " Well, Clary," and the strong, bright tone which he 
 had used in the sick room had left bis voice, " it's all 
 a tangle isn't it ? " 
 
 "What is, sir?" 
 
 " 0, life, and everything." 
 
 "I I don't know," Clary replied, bewildered. 
 
 " No, of course you don't ; why should you ? " he 
 said, cheerfully. Then he rapped at Katey's door. 
 
 " Come in." The flush had left her face ; it was 
 almost as white as the pillows about it. The letter 
 was finished and enclosed, and lay, face down, upon 
 the desk before her. " I was not a long time, you 
 see," and she tried to smile. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And now, will you send this ? It is stamped and 
 addressed, ready for the mail." 
 
 " Certainly," he replied, in so bright a tone that 
 Clary was puzzled again. But every-day life held 
 many mysteries to Clary. She never got in their un- 
 ravelment beyond a dull, confused wonder, which 
 shed no light upon them. 
 
 He held out his hand for the letter, but Katey still 
 kept it clasped tight in her own. Would he read the 
 address ? There was an unspoken request in her 
 eyes. " It need not be laid upon the desk with the 
 others ? " and the color swept over her face. 
 
 " Will you not trust me ? " and she gave the letter 
 into his hand. 
 
 " But you will not do this again ? not until you 
 are stronger, at least ; you will promise me ? " 
 
 " I shall never do it again," burst out Katey, with a
 
 236 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 little sob ; too weak and miserable to realize how much 
 her words revealed. Then she turned her face to the 
 wall, and he went away. But Clary added another to 
 her list of unanswered queries : why did a great light 
 come into his eyes at sight of Katey's tears ? 
 . Delphine returned to find her patient quietly sleep- 
 ing, and Clary ensconced in breathless, painful quiet 
 in the great chair by the bedside. Evidently her 
 commands had been carried out to the letter. 
 
 There was no opportunity at the time to recount 
 the story of Katey's wilfulness, and Clary, after turn- 
 ing the matter over in her small head, decided to say 
 nothing about it. She kept her own counsel, since no 
 harm followed. Katey even seemed better the next 
 day, and wondered in her own mind if she ought to 
 confess her misdeed. But that would involve telling 
 the whole story, from which she shrank now. She 
 was morbidly faithful, perhaps. But, because he had 
 proved false, was she set free from every promise ? 
 They could never be anything to each other ; but she 
 would not turn against him, and recount everything 
 she knew to his disadvantage. Then, too, Delphine 
 would divine at once the cause of her illness, and 
 overwhelm her with pity and sympathy. Ah, no ; it 
 would be wiser and more easy to^ bury it all in her 
 own heart. 
 
 When she was able to be moved, Delphine carried 
 her off to her own home. Jack and Josie had returned 
 from their wedding journey, and were settled in the 
 same town. Then, before many days, Delphine had 
 bade them all a cheery adieu, there was never any 
 forebodings in her mind, and sailed away with her 
 husband and child for a year's absence. But Katey
 
 KATHERTNE EARLE. 237 
 
 was by this time domiciled with Josie, where she was 
 to remain for the present, and where rest and new 
 scenes would bring strength and peace, if not forget- 
 fulness. And so the winter passed away, and spring 
 came again. 
 
 What is this longing which came to Katey, and 
 which possesses us all in the spring time ; not for 
 the distant future, but for the far away in the past. 
 A vague regret, a shadowy remembrance tinctured 
 with pain of loss. It comes to us like a fuller heart- 
 beat in the midst of busy cfares. It holds us for an in- 
 stant, then is gone. Not a recollection, for we grasp 
 at nothing ; no picture rises before our minds. It is 
 too brief, too mystical, for that. The rain drops upon 
 the white stones under the window, and there falls 
 upon heart and soul a sense of what? Another 
 patter of rain ? When ? and where ? A sudden gust, 
 and the breath of the salt sea is borne in upon us. 
 Ah ! we had almost grasped it ; we had almost lived 
 again. What ? We know not. It is gone ; only the 
 pain still vibrates. Some tense, forgotten string 
 within had been touched in passing. 
 
 Slowly the summer went by. The thread was 
 broken at last. The thoughts which had sprung back 
 continually to Dacre had learned to dwell upon other 
 objects. He had never written. He had made no 
 effort to overbear her decision or to excuse himself. 
 From Mina Hauser she heard sometimes. Only once 
 had she spoken of him ; and then to say that Christine, 
 hearing nothing, was anxious and alarmed. Long be- 
 fore this, Katey had told Jack and Josie of her appear- 
 ance upon the stage at the Junction, and of the Hauser 
 family. Christine's love-story only she had withheld ;
 
 238 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 partly because it had been imparted to her in that 
 most binding of all confidences, which asks no promise 
 and partly because it was so interwoven with her 
 own brief romance. Her romance ! There would, 
 doubtless, come no other to her life. She looked for- 
 ward without interest. The future, to be sure, was 
 not now as it had been at first a great open sea, 
 cold and gray, and crossed by no white-winged ships ; 
 the roads of her fancy led no longer to a high, blank 
 wall. There were Jack and Josie, Delphine and her 
 family, they bounded her world ; and there was her 
 work ; for work she must, or life would be unbearable. 
 The summer was almost over, and she was going back 
 to La Fayette. Professor Dyce had written a brief 
 note to say that there had been many changes in the 
 school, but her place awaited her if she chose to re- 
 turn. And she was going back. The dull routine 
 was tedious, but it was work, and ready to her hand. 
 It would engross her mind ; and she would do it con- 
 scientiously for want of a better, nobler mission. She 
 had no ambition ; she felt no call, such as comes to 
 some women, to do great deeds. But the commonest 
 duties, well done, confer nobility upon the doer, and it 
 was work ; she came back to that always. She should 
 go on year after year, growing old, and worn, and 
 white-haired, perhaps, at last, in that little corner room 
 looking down upon the Gothic porch of a church. 
 People would pass in and out there, old and young, 
 bridal parties and funeral corteges ; Hut it would hold 
 one picture forever in her mind: the stillness of a 
 summer night, the lowering clouds shutting out the 
 stars, a handsome dark face bent close to hers, a 
 shadowy figure moving slowly over the way. Ah I
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 239 
 
 she thought she had forgotten. She rose up quickly 
 from sitting listlessly in her own room, and began hur- 
 riedly to dress. They were going to visit a collection 
 of pictures, and even now Josie ran up the stairs and 
 tapped at her door. 
 
 " What ! not dressed ! and I am late, too. 0, Katey, 
 you are an idle girl;" she added, playfully ; " you have 
 done nothing all the morning, while I do you know 
 Jack thinks I am a wonderful housekeeper ? " 
 
 " I don't doubt it." Katey was tying her bonnet 
 strings under her chin, and searching for her gloves. 
 tl I agree with him heartily." 
 
 " How sweet you are in all that pink ! " said Josie, 
 when they were entering the picture gallery. " But 
 you are so tall and grand that I am quite insignificant 
 beside you ; " and she made an abortive attempt to 
 draw her diminutive figure to a fuller height. " You 
 always will look like a princess in disguise. I be- 
 lieve if you were to walk down the street in a print 
 gown, and with a handkerchief tied over your head, 
 half the town would turn and stare after you." 
 
 " It would be strange if they did not," laughed 
 Katey. , 
 
 " Do laugh ; " and Josie turned her eyes upon her 
 with the wistful gaze Katey had marked many times 
 before, but would not appear to notice ; " you are 
 very quiet and grave of late." 
 
 " Am I ? I have been ill, you know, and that can 
 never be amusing ; and I have had many things to 
 think of, some of which have troubled me not a little." 
 She said it quietly, moved to no purpose when she 
 began. Dacre's name had never been mentioned be- 
 tween them in all these months which they had spent
 
 240 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 together. But now she would speak. They were 
 almost alone. An old man with a mottled beard and 
 a hooked nose a dealer, perhaps was moving 
 from one picture to another, eying them with a cold, 
 critical air. A younger man, shabbily dressed, 
 possibly an artist, stood near by, sighting a land- 
 scape through his half- closed hand. They were early ; 
 there were no others in the room. 
 
 " I shall never see Dacre Home again." Katey's 
 great grave eyes were fixed upon the canvas before 
 them, with the far-seeing gaze of a sibyl. It was a 
 little French study an arbor, a stand, a wine-glass, a 
 white shoulder, some black drapery, a screen of vines, 
 a pair of dark eyes peeping through; but she saw 
 nothing of it. 
 
 Josie caught her sleeve. " Do you really mean 
 it ? 0, I am so glad ! You cannot think how anx- 
 ious I have been ; and yet I would not try to force 
 your confidence. And you are convinced at last that 
 he is utterly worthless ? " 
 
 " No," Katey said, stoutly. " There is much that 
 is good in him." 
 
 " 0, Katqy ! How can you think so ? I dare not 
 trust you then. I am afraid you will go back to him." 
 
 " Because I will not turn against him ? You need 
 not be afraid," she added ; " I can never go back to 
 him." 
 
 " But you are not going to pine away ? " 
 
 One never knew what Katey might take upon her- 
 self to do. 
 
 " Do I look like it ? " and she turned upon Josie 
 the face that had lost something of its bloom and 
 freshness, but was still round in its outline, and
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 241 
 
 sweeter than ever in its grave, thoughtful expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " No," responded Josie, doubtfully. " And you 
 are sure you are not making yourself unhappy over 
 it?" 
 
 " Quite sure," Katey replied. Then the room began 
 to fill rapidly, an acquaintance accosted them, and 
 they said no more. 
 16
 
 242 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE PICNIC. 
 
 THE changes to which Professor Dyce referred in 
 his note to Katey were greater than she ima- 
 gined. President Humphrey had been called to an in- 
 stitution in the far West, leaving Professor Dyce in 
 charge at La Fayette until the trustees should decide 
 upon some one to take his place. Miss Severance had 
 been summoned to her home, and finally resigned her 
 position in the school on account of domestic troubles ; 
 and at least half of the pupils had left, many from the 
 South, with the forethought or foreknowledge of 
 prophecy, having never returned after the Christmas 
 holidays. Others failed to appear at the beginning of 
 the spring term, when the fall of Sumter warned the 
 nation of the dreadful future. A summer of excite- 
 ment and confusion, never to be forgotten, followed, 
 and it was only a handful, compared with the former 
 number of girls, who gathered at the opening of the 
 fall term. There were murmurs of dissatisfaction 
 among these in regard to the political principles of 
 the head of the school ; for Professor Dyce was openly 
 and avowedly for the government. Katey soon saw 
 that this dissatisfaction was fostered and encouraged 
 by Miss Wormley, who for some unknown caase had 
 evidently conceived a dislike for the man whom she
 
 {CATHERINE EARLE. 243 
 
 had formerly fawned upon and flattered. A line, im- 
 aginary, and yet not the less strongly marked, was 
 forming a division among the teachers. Upon one side 
 were Professor Dyce, Miss Hersey, and Katey ; upon 
 the other, Professor Payne, Professor Grote, and Miss 
 Wormley, while the instructor in modern languages 
 was not regarded by either party, and little Mr. Milde 
 kept his own counsel and smiled equally upon both. 
 
 For the evening study-hour the girls gathered now 
 in the music-room. It was less dreary than the great, 
 half-empty school-hall. Many and bitter were the dis- 
 cussions waged here in the half hour of twilight recre- 
 ation after tea. Be-jewelled, be-furbelowed though 
 the girls were, they had found a depth at last beneath 
 these things. The whole air of the house was changed ; 
 it had no longer the appearance of a quiet, well-regu- 
 lated school ; but of some chance abiding-place, where 
 people, jealous, distrustful of each other, waited during 
 a little time with feverish impatience for what, no one 
 knew. Among these warring elements Professor Dyce 
 moved silently, outwardly calm, self-possessed, and 
 assured. It was a relief to Katey to feel that his eyes 
 were no longer upon her ; that the foolish suspicions 
 which she had awakened at first had died out, or been 
 forgotten in other and more important affairs. She 
 took up her diminished classes with fresh zeal. The 
 stirring events of each day in the outside world, with 
 the duties close by her hands, banished all morbid re- 
 grets, and brought her mind to a healthier tone. She 
 wondered still about Dacre, but without pain. The 
 little formula of prayer to which her lips had become 
 accustomed so long ago, she still kept up. It could 
 do her no harm, nor him. And something like faith
 
 244 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 enlarged her vision at times, and made her feel that it 
 would not be in vain. Still she heard nothing of him. 
 Even Mina Hauser, for some reason, had ceased to 
 write. 
 
 There was less of discipline now in the school than 
 there had been once. With the exception of Professor 
 Dyce, who held them all with a strong, firm hand, the 
 teachers relaxed something of their former vigilance. 
 The recitations were naturally shortened since the 
 classes were so small, and the hours of recreation in- 
 creased. In place of the processional walk about 
 town, which had once comprised the daily exercise, 
 Professor Dyce led the girls often, in these pleasant 
 September days, quite beyond the limits of the city. 
 
 One day, a month, perhaps, after the beginning of the 
 term, he announced at morning prayers that the school 
 would spend the afternoon in the country. He would 
 leave Miss Wormley, through whose knowledge of the 
 suburbs he had perfected the plan, to give its details ; 
 and with this he left the desk and the school-room, 
 followed by some such daring expressions of delight as 
 a soft clapping of hands from the younger girls. Miss 
 Wormley explained that immediately after dinner om- 
 nibuses would be in attendance at the door, to convey 
 the young ladies to a point some four or five miles 
 from town, within easy walking distance of the woods, 
 where they would take an early tea, and return to the 
 city before dark. 
 
 Professor Payne excused himself from the party, and 
 Miss Hersey decided that it would be necessary for 
 her also to remain at home. Miss Wormley, busily 
 collecting the lunch baskets which the housekeeper 
 had prepared, smiled a peculiar and not altogether
 
 KA THERINE EARLE. 245 
 
 pleasant smile when this announcement was made to 
 her. 
 
 " The care of the young ladies will devolve upon 
 you and me, then," she said to Katey, in an unusually 
 gracious tone. 
 
 " Yes ; and upon Professor Dyce. He is going, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " Professor Dyce ? 0, of course." And again the 
 watery blue eyes half closed in an odd smile. 
 
 They set off at last, a gay party, filling a couple 
 of omnibuses, merry, happy, and forgetful for the time 
 of their differences. The road was smooth arid hard,- 
 when the paved streets of the town were once left 
 behind ; the country fresh and greener than in mid- 
 summer ; the air mild, yet not too warm ; the day 
 perfect. What more could they desire ? 
 
 Upon the outskirts of a suburban village they de- 
 scended from the omnibuses, and went on, a straggling 
 company, led by Miss Wormley, up the pleasant country 
 road to the picnic ground, a half mile away. 
 
 " Is it much farther ? " Katey ventured to ask at last. 
 The afternoon sun was fiercely hot ; no shadow from 
 welcome wayside trees fell upon the dusty road. The 
 shawl and basket upon her arm were growing heavier 
 each moment. 
 
 " No ; we turn in at that gate. There is the grove," 
 Miss Wormley replied. 
 
 A bend in the road had long since hidden their 
 starting-point. They had left every trace of human 
 habitation behind. Rough, hillocky fields, broken into 
 knolls, and even mountains in the distance, met their 
 eyes on every hand. Across these, in irregular de- 
 vious wanderings, straggled a narrow belt of woods,
 
 246 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 disappearing only where the horizon shut down upon 
 it at last. 
 
 The professor stepped forward and opened the gate 
 as Miss Wormley paused before it. He waited until 
 the last had passed through. Katey had lagged be- 
 hind. He took the basket from her hand, and walked 
 on beside her without speaking. The grass was cool 
 and soft to the feet ; a faint breeze rose and came to 
 meet them as they reached the edge of the woods, 
 stirring the branches of the trees ; a startled bird flut- 
 tered away, uttering a shrill, piping call to its mate. 
 It was a pleasant summer scene, suggestive of peace. 
 
 " One might almost forget the war," Katey said, 
 letting her eyes wander after her thoughts to the 
 distant, hazy hills. 
 
 " Is it, then, so easily forgotten ? 0, not for me," the 
 professor replied, in a deep, suppressed voice, a fire 
 burning in his eyes. 
 
 "The drum, the drum, it calls so loud," 
 
 he said, half to himself. 
 
 And would he go ? Jack had written the week 
 before that he expected his commission daily. 0, how 
 near this was coming to each one ! How real this 
 terrible dream might yet be ! She, too, had enlisted 
 heart and soul. That was all a woman could do. Her 
 busy hands, to do their possible, meek office, followed, 
 as a matter of course, needing no fresh consecration. 
 But often her desires soared beyond this. "Dear 
 Jack," she had written, feeling only this uplifting of 
 the soul beyond all dreadful forebodings. Then she 
 laid her face upon the paper ; no other words came 
 with the rush of strong emotion. When she was
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 247 
 
 calmer she took up the pen again. " It must be sweet 
 to die for one's country," she added, with that holy 
 enthusiasm which only women and martyrs know. 
 
 They walked on silently for a moment ; then Katey 
 spoke again softly. 
 
 " But the school ! How could you leave the 
 school?" 
 
 " It has never been any but a temporary affair with 
 me," he replied. " I should give it up at once if there, 
 were only some one to take my place. I have to wait 
 a little longer for my degree, that is all. Nothing 
 else need keep me here. But, indeed, six months hence 
 there will be no school. You think me a prophet of 
 evil ? " For Katey turned her face upon him full of 
 surprise and doubt. 
 
 " The result is inevitable, and not far in the future, 
 either. Ah ! carefully ; " as one of the little girls, 
 running back to meet them, stumbled, and would have 
 fallen, had he not caught her. 
 
 " Please, Miss Worrnley wants to know if wo are to 
 make a fire ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; " and he hastened on with the child to 
 where the others had gathered under the trees, closo 
 by a noisy little brook clattering down over the 
 stones. The girls were tired and heated, and some- 
 what inclined to be cross after the dusty walk, upon 
 which they had not calculated ; but his presence soon 
 put them in good humor. Notwithstanding the grave 
 air he always wore, and the authority which lie could 
 exercise upon occasions, a certain gentle deference, a 
 courtly manner, which years of society, perhaps, had 
 imparted to him, and which was never forgotten in his 
 intercourse with the smallest and most insignificant of
 
 248 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 the sex, flattered and won upon the girls imperceptibly. 
 They might rail at him in secret for his political prin- 
 ciples, but each one was ready to do his bidding, and 
 proud if a word of commendation fell from his lips. 
 There was a flutter of ribbons about him now, when 
 Miss "VVormley announced that it was time to think 
 about tea, each one hoping to be drawn into his ser- 
 vice. The younger children ran to gather wood to 
 feed the fire he had lit in a dry hollow, the older ones 
 prepared to spread the cloth and set out the contents 
 of the baskets, while Katey and Clary Luckiwinner 
 set about making the coffee under his direction. 
 
 They chattered and laughed over their rural repast 
 as only school-girls can and will. They told stories, 
 and even sang songs, at its conclusion, grouped about 
 in picturesque attitudes, not entirely unstudied, upon 
 the moss-grown rocks and stumps of fallen trees. 
 Then, when the cloth had been cleared, and while the 
 baskets were repacked and gathered together again, 
 they wandered away as they chose. " Not too far," 
 cautioned the professor, " we must be moving towards 
 town in an hour ; it would not be wise to let the twi- 
 light find us scattered among these woods and hills/' 
 
 Miss Wormley and Katey had been collecting the 
 baskets ; even Clary had been tempted away by the 
 others. Closing the last one with an exclamation of 
 satisfaction, Miss Wormley strolled off after the girls. 
 Katey was tired; she had served them all without 
 sparing her strength. She had dismissed the last who 
 volunteered to assist in clearing away the remains of 
 the tea, and sent her off towards the fields where her 
 oyes had followed the others wistfully, assuming the 
 task herself. She sat down now to rest. The pro-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 249 
 
 fessor, at a little distance, had thrown himself upon 
 the ground, his back against the trunk of a tree, and 
 lit a cigar, too busy with the reverie called up by the 
 silence, or the smoke slowly curling about his head, to 
 notice her. She had no fear now of what he might say, 
 even though his glance should discover her. In what 
 a childish terror she had avoided him all the past year ! 
 And how all these imaginary fears had fled in the 
 presence of the real ! Then her thoughts flew, as they 
 did so often now, to Jack. Ah ! what should we do 
 but for the blessed care for others which takes us out 
 of our own narrow selves? Dear Jack! He was, 
 perhaps, already on his way to Washington, where 
 Josie would follow him. Jack in the blue, with a 
 sword at his side ! Jack's handsome eyes looking out 
 from under a visor ! But Jack was always a hero to 
 her, and he would live to come home again. There is, 
 a conviction stronger than hope, different even from 
 faith, a kind of foreknowledge, and this Katey pos- 
 sessed now. She might have her terrors when others 
 quaked. She might see her dark days when the 
 clouds hung low, but he would come home. 
 
 She said it to herself with a smile on her lips, though 
 something wet fell upon the hands lying in her lap. 
 Then she looked up hastily, and met Professor Dyce's 
 eyes. He must have been regarding her for a long 
 time ; certainly there was no surprise in his face at 
 seeing her there. 
 
 " You are quite well ? " he said, inquiringly. There 
 was something like anxiety in his tone. 
 
 "0, yes." 
 
 " Arid happy ? " It was an odd question, uttered so 
 quietly, without the suggestion of a smile.
 
 250 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " 0, yes," Katey said again. 
 
 That was all. He rose, throwing away his cigar. 
 Did he take care of her? Did he watch over her? A 
 little quick throb stirred her heart. There had been 
 a moment of desolation, thinking of Jack, and of Del- 
 phine so far away. What if anything should happen 
 here at the school ? There was no one to whom she 
 could turn. She had not thought of Professor Dyce. 
 
 The faintest shadow of coming night had already 
 fallen. Miss Wormley approached now in evident 
 haste. Professor Dyce watched her drawing near. 
 
 " We rest upon a volcano in La Fayette," he went 
 on to Katey. " It is only a question of time. The 
 end must come. For myself,. I have succeeded in the 
 undertaking which brought me here. I have trans- 
 ferred my interests elsewhere. Six weeks a month 
 I could leave to-day without loss, though I should 
 like my degree ; but you it is different with a 
 woman. If your position becomes dangerous, if I, 
 who can see so much better than you to what all this 
 may lead, having means of knowing what you can but 
 be ignorant of, if I tell you some day that the time 
 has come for you to leave, will you trust me, and go ? " 
 
 Katey gave one look into his eyes. 
 
 " Yes," she said, unhesitatingly, " I will." 
 
 Then, even as she uttered the last words, Miss 
 Wormley joined them. 
 
 " It is time we started for home ; " and the pro- 
 fessor consulted his watch. 
 
 " There is no haste ; it is early yet," said Miss 
 Wormley. It struck Katey as odd. The night was 
 close at hand. Or was it her manner which was 
 strange ? There was a'kind of suppressed excitement
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 251 
 
 about the woman. She panted as though she had 
 been running. The professor, standing upon a rock 
 above them, searched the woods on either side. The 
 girls were nowhere in sight. 
 
 " I have called them," Miss Wormley said, quickly. 
 " They will be here directly. Of course you have seen 
 the view from the Knoll ? " she added to Katey, mo- 
 tioning with her head in the opposite direction from 
 that by which they had entered the woods. 
 
 " No,' ; Katey replied ; " I was tired, and have been 
 resting ; and, indeed, I know nothing about it." 
 
 " Is it possible ? Why, that is the aim and object 
 of every picnic party here. It would be a shame not 
 to see it. Professor Dyce ! " He turned at her voice. 
 " I will wait here for the girls, who are on their way 
 back now from the Knoll, if you will take Miss Earle 
 there for a moment. It is a pity that she should miss 
 the view, which she says she has not seen." 
 
 " Nor have I," replied the professor. " I must con- 
 fess my ignorance as to the situation of this Knoll, even. 
 I trust it is not far," he added, with unconscious ungal- 
 lantry. " It is later than I thought." 
 
 " 0, no ; I can easily direct you there ; " and she 
 proceeded to point out the way, which seemed to 
 Katey both complicated and long in its various 
 turnings. 
 
 " It must be too far for us to think of going now," 
 she said. 
 
 " Not at all. You will soon see," Miss Wormley 
 replied. " And you will be well paid for the slight 
 exertion. But don't linger there," she called after 
 them, " or we shall go homo without you."
 
 252 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 KATEY'S CONFESSION. 
 
 KATEY followed the professor, who led the way 
 with some haste, and without replying to this 
 playful remark. As they came, out into the open fields 
 the daylight flared into unexpected brightness. It 
 was the shadows among the trees, perhaps, which had 
 brought the twilight so soon. 
 
 " Where are the girls ? " and Katey looked about 
 her in surprise, for no one was in sight. 
 
 " They have probably crossed to the other side," 
 the professor replied. " Miss Wormley has called 
 them together. If you are anxious, we will turn back. 
 Still, I think this must be the Knoll she spoke of. Are 
 you equal to a run to the top of it ? Give me your 
 hand." 
 
 " This cannot be the spot," he said, when they had 
 gained the summit only to find another hill, rising at a 
 little distance to a greater height, shutting out the 
 view from before them. Katey was already half way 
 down upon the other side. She was filled with mis- 
 givings. " Let us go as fast as we can," she said. 
 But the way lengthened before them; the deceitful 
 knoll if this were really the one they sought 
 seemed to move back coquettishly at their approach. 
 Already the horizon had disappeared, and heavy shad- 
 ows were creeping towards them.


 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 253 
 
 " Professor Dyce, where are we going ? " Katey 
 exclaimed, at last. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Nor I." 
 
 Then they laughed. 
 
 " We had better return as quickly as possible," said 
 the professor, beginning to retrace his steps. " It 
 will be dark before we reach La Fayette. I am sorry 
 to disappoint you " 
 
 " It is no disappointment," Katey hastened to say. 
 " I did not care to come, but Miss Wormley insisted 
 upon it." 
 
 The way seemed much longer than when they first 
 passed over it, and the shadows gained upon them 
 with alarming speed. 
 
 " Are you quite sure ? " Katey ventured, presently. 
 " I think we should bend more to the left. I don't 
 remember this clump of firs ; do you ? " 
 
 " We might not have noticed it. But I believe we 
 should enter the woods at that turn." 
 
 Katey's heart fell in sudden fright ; but she followed 
 without speaking. She was by no means sure ; per- 
 haps he was right. They gained the woods. The day 
 bade them adieu as they plunged into the shadows, 
 and pushed on in silence. They reached the brook, 
 which sang noisily on its way. The surroundings 
 were strange. Their companions were nowhere in 
 sight 
 
 " Hark ! " But it was only the cry of a distant 
 hawk. 
 
 " We are too far down," said the professor, in the 
 kind, hopeful tone people use with children to allay 
 their fears. It alarmed Katey. " If we follow the
 
 254 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 brook, wo shall soon reach them." And again he led 
 the way. It was an ill-trained, wilfifl little stream, 
 that had heeded the beckoning of its own fancy ; it led 
 them a devious way. Often they jumped its narrow 
 width, when their progress was stopped by a fallen 
 tree, or a great boulder which the spring freshets had 
 brought down. The darkness was falling fast now. 
 At a little distance it was difficult to distinguish the 
 trees, or guard against the snares and pitfalls in which 
 Katey 's tired feet were continually caught. They 
 spoke no word. They only went on and on, until, all 
 at once, Katey, faint, and dizzy, and bewildered, would 
 have fallen, had not the professor's strong hand held 
 her up. He seated her upon the trunk of a pros- 
 trate tree. 
 
 " It is useless to go farther/ 7 he said, quietly. He 
 stepped upon the log beside her, and, raising his fingers 
 to his lips, gave a sharp, shrill whistle. He waited a 
 moment. Katey held her breath to listen ; but there 
 was no response. Again and again he repeated it. 
 Ho changed it to a shout. A flock of crows rose over- 
 head, with a great flapping of wings, and hoarse, oft- 
 repeated caws, dying away at last in the distance. 
 His voice had awakened no other sound. He sat 
 down beside her. 
 
 " We need not hasten now," for Kate} 7 had made a 
 movement to rise. " We should be quite as likely to 
 take the wrong direction as the right. We either 
 entered the woods above the point where we lunched, 
 and so have been going farther away from it all the 
 time, or have passed the place and not recognized it." 
 
 " But Miss Wormley and the girls ? They must be 
 searching for us now."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 255 
 
 " Give yourself no anxiety about them," said the 
 professor. " They were safely housed an hour ago, I 
 doubt not. Finding we did not return, Miss Wormley 
 would take the girls home, and perhaps send some 
 one after us. We will hope so, at least, and act ac- 
 cordingly. At the worst, we have only to wait for 
 daylight, when we may find ourselves close by the 
 turnpike. But I think we might make one other at- 
 tempt. We will try the open fields. If we can only 
 find the road, even if followed in the wrong direction, 
 it must lead to some village or town, from which we 
 can easily reach La Fayette." 
 
 They gained the open ground. Above them shone 
 the stars, too bright by far ; a soft, trembling darkness 
 filled all the space below, in which they moved as in a 
 fog-swopt sea. 
 
 " This is folly and madness," said the professor. 
 " We will go back, and build a fire. They will cer- 
 tainly send some one to look for us." And they 
 retraced their steps to where the heavier shadows be- 
 tokened the presence of the woods. He found a log 
 where she could sit supported by the trunk of a tree. 
 
 " But you have no shawl, and the evening air is 
 cool." 
 
 Thus reminded, she took up the shawl, which, with 
 one of the lunch-baskets, she had carried, unconscious- 
 ly, all the way, and wrapped it about her, while ho 
 gathered dry leaves and sticks, and lit a tiny fire, just 
 beyond her feet. 
 
 " The wind is from the woods. We may safely 
 make it burn as brightly as we can;" and he Ibd 
 the flames, which, crackling and snapping, and rising 
 higher and higher, surrounded them at last with a
 
 256 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 circle of light, making the outer darkness still more 
 dense by contrast. 
 
 " I must make a wider search for fuel," he said, 
 presently. " You will not be afraid if I leave you for a 
 while. We may have to remain here some hours, and 
 a rousing fire would serve a double purpose." 
 
 Katey closed her eyes when he had gone. The 
 delight of physical rest for the moment overpowered 
 all other sensations. She did not sleep, but her 
 thoughts became dreamy and confused. A sudden 
 vision aroused her. Miss Wormley's face, full of ma- 
 lignant satisfaction, seemed to peer out of the dark- 
 ness ; but it vanished as she opened her eyes. She 
 was still alone. The flames, unfed, had died down. 
 She was cold, and conscious now of hunger. How 
 fortunate that they had brought away one of the 
 baskets ! If it would only prove to contain something 
 more desirable than spoons and forks ! But where 
 was Professor Dyce ? She listened anxiously for his 
 step. Could he have strayed beyond sight of the fire, 
 since it had burned so low, and lost his way again ? 
 A great terror seized her of the darkness, which 
 seemed full of staring eyes of the silence, which 
 held mysterious whispers. She could not stay here. 
 She threw an armful of brush upon the flames, and 
 turned to the woods where he had disappeared, tread- 
 ing noiselessly, as though her light step might awaken 
 some new, fresh fear. Suddenly she perceived him, 
 not many yards away, sleeping, as she thought at first, 
 stretched out beneath the trees, his elbow upon the 
 ground, his hand supporting his head. His forehead 
 was contracted, his heavy brows knit. No dreamer 
 ever wore so anxious, so stern a countenance. Look-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 257 
 
 ing closer, but fairly holding her breath, lest he should 
 perceive her, she saw that his eyes, although open, 
 were bent upon the ground ; and as she moved back, 
 cautiously, he dropped his head upon his arm with a 
 deep sigh. 
 
 Was he, then, so troubled, while he had concealed 
 his anxiety from her? Sometimes care is infectious, 
 and sometimes it is like the plarik on which the chil- 
 dren see-saw the depression of one elevates the 
 other. Katey's spirits rose. They .could not be really 
 lost, she thought, hopefully, retracing her steps. At 
 the worst, as he had said, they could wait here until 
 daylight released them. He need not be uneasy if it 
 was on her account. And yet she would not call him. 
 But she made the dry twigs snap in her hands, as she 
 fed the fire, noisily. She still knelt before the blaze, 
 opening the lunch-basket, when he rejoined her. 
 
 " So you are awake. I came back once, and found 
 you sleeping," he said, with a smile. 
 
 But no smile could deceive her now. 
 
 "What is that? And you have carried it all the 
 way!" 
 
 " I was not aware of it, I can assure you. How 
 fortunate ! " she exclaimed, bringing out one treasure 
 after another. " Not only sandwiches and rolls, and 
 more sandwiches, but such superfluous products of 
 civilization as knives and forks ! And what can this 
 be ? " She brought out a tin cup, which held a paper, 
 half broken open. " Coffee ! " Her manner had en- 
 tirely changed. He wondered, looking down upon her, 
 as, clasping basket and viands and all in her arms, she 
 said, with a playful air of distress : 
 
 " Professor Dyce, I uui shockingly hungry. It can't 
 17
 
 258 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 be long before they come," she went on, m a bright 
 tone, setting out the sandwiches upon the end of the 
 log nearest the fire ; " and, in the mean time, we will 
 take supper. Will you bring some water from the 
 brook, for the coffee ? " 
 
 He disappeared among the trees to return in a mo- 
 ment with the cup filled. They placed it upon the 
 glowing coals. 
 
 " You don't care for cream, I suppose ? " said Katey, 
 when it had boiled furiously, and been set aside at last. 
 
 " 0, no ; not at all." 
 
 " And much sugar is not good for one. It might be 
 wise to dispense with it altogether." 
 
 " True ; especially as we have none." 
 
 " And coffee is never so delicious as when drank 
 from the cup in which it is made," and Katey prepared 
 to test her theory. The heated rim approached her 
 lips. " And never so hot, I am sure," she concluded, 
 with tears in her eyes. 
 
 The professor laughed. 
 
 " You should wait until it has had time to cool ; and 
 it has not yet settled. I have camped out more than 
 once. Coffee from a tin cup is no novelty to me." 
 
 And he recounted some boyish experience, with an 
 animation which Katey felt to be forced. He watched 
 and listened constantly, she knew. What did he 
 dread ? What did he expect ? Why was he so ab- 
 sent and preoccupied ? As for herself, she was con- 
 tented and at rest now. They had food and fire, and 
 presently some one would come. 
 
 " Are there any bears or wolves about here ? " 
 
 " 0, no ; " and he smiled, as though amused by what 
 she felt to be a childish question. Her face grew 
 warm in the fire-light, but still she went on.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 259 
 
 " Is there anything one need fear ? " 
 
 His head had been turned, as though listening. He 
 looked around at her now. 
 
 " No. Are you afraid ? " 
 
 "7am not afraid ; but ' Then she stopped, red- 
 dening to her hair. 
 
 He uttered a short, crisp laugh. 
 
 " You thought / might be, perhaps." 
 
 Katey turned her head away. 
 
 " Will you not tell me why you are anxious ? " she 
 said. 
 
 His face became grave at once. 
 
 " Not for any harm which can come to us here, I 
 can assure you. There is no reason why you should 
 not sleep as peacefully as in your own bed. And, in- 
 deed, it is time you were asleep. Do you know how 
 late it is ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 He took out his watch, glanced at it, and held its 
 face to her. 
 
 " One o'clock ! " Then she remembered something 
 else. " They should have been here before now," 
 she said. 
 
 He made no reply. His face was averted, and lie 
 was suddenly busy over the fire. 
 
 " I think I can make you more comfortable ; " and 
 he disappeared among the trees, returning in a mo- 
 ment with his arms full of dried leaves, which he 
 threw down before her. Two or three similar jour- 
 neys and his work was done. 
 
 " And now, if you will make a couch of it, and put 
 your feet to the fire, you may sleep for an hour or two. 
 This moss-covered log may serve, for once, as a pil-
 
 260 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 low. "Wrap your shawl well about you, and don't be 
 anxious; nothing can harm you. I shall not go far 
 away." 
 
 Then, as Katey prepared to follow his advice, he 
 threw another armful of brush upon the blaze before 
 vanishing into the darkness. She wrapped herself 
 warmly, as he had told her to do. Sleep would not 
 come, however, at her bidding; but the change of 
 position was restful, and with her cheek against the 
 shawl, she followed out the queries which his manner 
 had raised in her mind. Why did he bid her sleep, 
 and say nothing more of the party who would come to 
 seek them ? Had he given up all hope of it ? She 
 could not but feel that they should have been here be- 
 fore now. The blazing fire must be visible for miles. 
 It would have guided any one to them at once. Or in 
 the utter stillness of the night, a voice would have 
 reached them from a distance. But who was there 
 at the school to start upon such a quest ? Professor 
 Payne, if he knew the circumstances. He was too 
 rigidly just and conscientious to do otherwise. He 
 would not let his bitterest enemy come to harm if he 
 could save him. And in Professor Dyce's absence he 
 Avas at the head of the house. But what would Miss 
 Wormley say to him? What account of their dis- 
 appearance would she give ? And then, in a moment, 
 the conviction flashed upon Katey's mind that Miss 
 Wormley had wilfully misled them, and had deserted 
 them at last. No one would come ; it was useless to 
 longer expect it. She sat upright with the thought. 
 A step drew near, and Professor Dyce appeared. 
 
 " Well ? " and Katey's voice was strained and 
 anxious.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 261 
 
 " I thought you were asleep, child." 
 
 " I cannot sleep. I believe I am nervous/.she added, 
 with a little hysterical laugh. " Have you heard any- 
 thing ? Have you seen anything ? " 
 
 " Nothing at all ! " He had thrown himself down 
 before the fire. He did not avoid her eyes now. 
 " We must rely upon ourselves," he said. " No one 
 will come in search of us. They should have been 
 here hours ago. Don't be frightened ! " for Katey 
 had buried her face in the folds of her shawl. " We 
 shall have no difficulty in finding our way as soon as 
 it is daylight." 
 
 "You believe it?" and Katey's eyes searched his 
 face. 
 
 " Without a shadow of doubt." 
 
 " Then there is nothing to be anxious about ; " and 
 her voice was cheerful and assured. 
 
 " You are warm? " and he fed the fire again. 
 
 " 0, yes ; entirely comfortable, thank you." 
 
 " Then try to sleep. We may have a long tramp 
 before us yet." 
 
 " I cannot ; I feel like a gypsy ; " and with the little 
 red shawl twisted fantastically about her, she looked 
 not unlike one as she drew nearer to the blaze. " I 
 begin to enjoy it, since there is really nothing to fear." 
 
 He made no reply. She bent forward, her hands 
 clasped around her knees, her face warm and bright 
 in the fire-light. 
 
 " Professor Dyce," she said, presently, in a low, 
 almost timid, voice. He raised his head from his arm, 
 where he lay regarding her. 
 
 " Well ? " when she did not go on. 
 
 " I want to tell you something ; only don't look at 
 me, please."
 
 262 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 11 Shall I cover my face, or turn away ? " 
 
 " Neither ; only look at the fire ; that will do ; 
 though I believe I am not afraid of you now." 
 
 " Which implies that you have been ? " and he raised 
 his eyes quickly, then dropped them again. 
 
 " I suppose so, since I am conscious that I am not 
 now ; but that is metaphysics." 
 
 "In which gypsies are not supposed to indulge." 
 
 There was a flutter of the leaves overhead, moved 
 by a passing wind. Far away in the distance the call 
 of some night-bird awoke the stillness, as she paused 
 again. 
 
 " It is nothing," she went on, slowly. " Only I 
 should like to tell you about that night when we were 
 detained at the Junction. I saw you in the concert 
 hall. I I was with the singers, you know." 
 
 " Yes, I know ; " and an odd smile crossed his face. 
 
 " You must have thought it strange," she said, 
 timidly. Her forehead flamed at the recollection of 
 the little red petticoat. 
 
 " I believe I did ; very strange." 
 
 " But it was nothing at all." And then, very quickly, 
 she recounted the story of her acquaintance with the 
 Hauser family. 
 
 " Why did you not tell me at once ? " he said, at its 
 conclusion. " A word would have explained what 
 could not but appear strange to me." 
 
 " I was angry ; I saw that you distrusted me." 
 
 ' Why should I not ? " He had risen while she was 
 speaking, and paced back and forth now with short, 
 impatient steps. "I was very rude to you after- 
 Avards," he said, presently. Then he took off his hat. 
 " I beg your pardon."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 263 
 
 " 0, that is all long past/' Katey replied, in confu- 
 sion. lk I deserved it ; but I was too proud to speak." 
 
 " And suffered for your silence. Or, perhaps, you 
 did not suffer ; " and he eyed her sharply. 
 
 " Yes ; it hurt me to be doubted so," she answered, 
 slowly. " But ' She regarded the fire thoughtfully, 
 without finishing the sentence. 
 
 " I want to thank you," she said, at last, raising her 
 eyes, and breaking the pause which he had not inter- 
 rupted, "for everything. I can't talk about it," she 
 added, hurriedly, while a little shadow, stole over her 
 face, " but I want to assure you that I have appreciat- 
 ed your kindness all the time. I think I could sleep 
 now," she went on, in a different tone, before he could 
 reply. " But what will you do ? You have not closed 
 your eyes to-night." 
 
 " I shall watch the fire. I could not sleep if I tried." 
 
 " You will not go away ? " 
 
 " 0, no, no." 
 
 " You will stay here, and make yourself comfortable 
 by the fire, I mean." 
 
 " Certainly ; if you wish it." 
 
 " I do, indeed. And then, perhaps, you will sleep 
 in spite of your resolution. There is nothing to fear, 
 you said ? " 
 
 " Nothing about us here, I assure you ; " and, 
 wrapped in her shawl, her head resting upon her 
 moss-covered pillow, Katey soon forgot her troubles.
 
 264 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 DO WE KEEP OUR LOVE TO PAY OUR DEBTS WITH? 
 
 SHE awoke with the morning sun shining full upon 
 her, conscious of a delicious warmth and restful- 
 ness. How heavy her shawl had become ! Then she 
 rose hurriedly. 
 
 " Professor Dyce, you have forgotten your coat." 
 
 He took it from her hand, and proceeded to put it 
 on gravely. 
 
 " You do not mean you surely have not " she 
 began, her eyes still upon the coat. 
 
 " I have not suffered in the least, I can assure you. 
 And now will you have a cup of coffee ? " 
 
 " Let me run down to the brook and bathe my face, 
 first," Katey replied, humbly, forbearing to thank him. 
 It was all beyond words, but she should never forget. 
 
 She came back in a moment, her cheeks and finger- 
 tips glowing from contact with the stream, which had 
 served also as a mirror before which to re-arrange 
 the dark braids of heavy hair, and tie again the knot 
 of flame-colored ribbon at her throat. She was loop- 
 ing up the skirt of her pretty gray gown over the 
 bright petticoat beneath it as she approached the fire, 
 trying with deft fingers to hide the numerous rents, 
 the result of the forced march in the dark tha night 
 before.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 265 
 
 " A blessing on the man who invented pins," she 
 said, putting the last in place, and taking up the lunch- 
 basket ; " and now, where are we, please ? " 
 
 In spite of the light tone, her eyes, sweeping the 
 unfamiliar landscape, where was no trace of road or 
 cultivated field or homestead, were full of anxiety. 
 
 " Just where, or how near to La Fayette, it is im- 
 possible to tell," replied the professor. " But there is 
 a well-travelled road not far from here ; probably the 
 turnpike upon which we came from town yesterday : 
 we have only to follow that." 
 
 " But first, breakfast ; " and Katey took out the re- 
 mains of the last night's supper. " How fortunate 
 that I brought this basket away ! But now I think of 
 it, Miss Wormley gave it to me." 
 
 " She had no intention of starving us, then ; that is 
 something," said the professor, in a low tone. But 
 Katey had caught the words, and knew that his sus- 
 picions were the same as her own. 
 
 The scanty breakfast was soon over. Professor 
 Dyce scattered the brands of the fire as they pre- 
 pared to leave their camping-place. 
 
 " It was to have served a double purpose," he said, 
 grimly ; " one would have sufficed. No, we will leave 
 the basket," when Katey took it up from force of habit. 
 
 " There is still a little coffee." 
 
 " We will take it and the cup, though we shall reach 
 some village, or La Fayette itself, before noon, without 
 doubt. Are you equal to a long tramp ? " 
 
 " I think so ; " and certainly her appearance was as 
 fresh as when they started from town the day before. 
 The bivouac under the stars had only brightened her 
 eyes and reddened her cheeks.
 
 266 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 They set off over the rough fields glistening with 
 dew in the early morning sun, where they had wan- 
 dered vainly in the darkness for a little while the night 
 before. They climbed more than one low wall, the 
 professor leading the way in so straight a line that 
 Katey knew he had explored it while she slept. The 
 road was gained at last, and he spoke for the first 
 time. 
 
 " It cannot be far, whichever direction we take, to 
 some village or farm-house. We need not hasten so." 
 
 And Katey, breathless from the speed with which 
 they had begun their journey, was glad to slacken her 
 pace. It was much easier, too, to follow this well- 
 beaten road than it had been to make their way over 
 the rough fields, full oT snares to unwary feet. The 
 sun, though rising higher and higher, shone upon them 
 still with only agreeable warmth ; the air was fresh and 
 exhilarating as they went on mile after mile, strong in 
 the conviction that the next turn of the road must 
 bring some human habitation into view. 
 
 But morning merged into noon ; the sun had 
 long since swept off the dew, and threw down now a 
 thousand burning arrows upon the white stretch of 
 road, and still no village, no single farm-house even, 
 had greeted their eyes. The belt of woods spread 
 out until it skirted the road upon one side ; upon the 
 other the rough, neglected land stretched away to the 
 horizon. Somewhere among the valleys hidden in the 
 distance, villages might nestle, but they were not visi- 
 ble from this point, as again they hastened towards a 
 bend in the road, only to find themselves upon the 
 brow of a low hill with the same unchanging landscape 
 before them.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 267 
 
 Katey sat down upon a low, flat rock by the side of 
 the way. She was faint and dizzy. They had eaten 
 their scanty breakfast almost at daybreak, and had 
 been hours on the road. She rested her arms upon 
 the rock, and dropped her head as everything whirled 
 around her. 
 
 " Don't be discouraged," said the professor with the 
 patient cheerfulness which went to her heart. " We 
 will rest at the foot of the hill under a clump of trees 
 I see there, build a fire, and as a brook has straggled 
 out of the woods most opportunely, you shall be 
 served with coffee as you sit in the door of your tent. 
 Come ! " and thus encouraged, Katey made one more 
 effort. 
 
 'She laid herself down under the trees when they 
 were gained, her shawl rolled into a pillow, while the 
 professor gathered a little heap of sticks and dried 
 leaves, and essayed to light a fire. He uttered a 
 quickly-repressed exclamation. She opened her eyes. 
 The match in his hand had gone out. 
 
 " But you have more ? " 
 
 " I am afraid not ; " and he made a fruitless search. 
 
 She burst into tears. It was silly and childish, and 
 she was ashamed of her weakness, but this was the 
 last straw. 
 
 " Don't," he said, gently. " Pray, don't. We shall 
 certainly come to a house soon ; this cannot last much 
 longer. If I could only do something ! " he broke out, 
 in sudden despair. 
 
 " I am sorry I am ashamed," sobbed Katey. " You, 
 too, must be tired, and faint, and discouraged." 
 
 " Not discouraged," he said, quickly. " It is annoy- 
 ing, only. There, that is a brave girl," as the sobs
 
 268 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 became less violent. " Now, try to sleep a little 
 while." 
 
 But Katey sat suddenly upright, instead. 
 
 " I had forgotten this," she said, dragging at her 
 watch-chain. " Will not this light a fire ? " and she 
 held out a tiny globe of colorless rock-crystal. 
 
 " We can try it, at least," he said. And he set him- 
 self to gathering the dryest grasses, the most inflam- 
 mable material within his reach, adding scraps from 
 an old letter, and placing them all upon a stone already 
 heated by the sun. After repeated attempts, the little 
 bauble, thus turned unexpectedly to use, was coaxed 
 to act the part of a burning-glass ; a faint breath of 
 smoke hovered over the pile, darkening, bursting into 
 a feeble flame. They had succeeded ! 
 
 Ah! no nectar of the gods ever equalled the draughts 
 from the tin cup, a little later ; no rest was ever to 
 Katey like the short hour in which she lay curled up 
 in the shadow of the long, thick branches of the lau- 
 rels, the rough, open fields about her. 
 
 They went on with new strength and courage, less 
 impatient than before. But what we desire and seek 
 after in hot haste, comes presently when we least ex- 
 pect it ; we turn aside for a little time weary of the 
 search, and lo ! we stumble upon it. A break in the 
 woods, and suddenly, almost in their faces, rose a little 
 old farm-house, peaceful, quiet, homely, and not in the 
 least disturbed by the encounter, which is more than 
 can be said of one of its inmates, a frowzy Scotch 
 terrier, who rushed out to meet them, uttering shrill 
 yelping cries which brought the mistress of the house 
 to the door. 
 
 " Our troubles are over," said Katey.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 269 
 
 It was the professor who lagged now. " They have 
 but just begun," he replied, in a low tone, which did 
 not reach her ear. " Wait here a moment," he said 
 aloud, and went on to the door alone. 
 
 " My good woman," he began, raising his hat to the 
 tall, raw-boned specimen of womanhood, who had yet 
 a kindly face, " could you give us some dinner, and by 
 any means send us on to the next town ? " 
 
 Surprise and curiosity at sight of the two who had 
 apparently dropped from the skies, since there were no 
 signs of ordinary human conveyance, changed to sus- 
 picion in the woman's countenance. 
 
 " I don' no," she replied, slowly. 
 
 " You shall be well paid for the trouble." 
 
 " 'Tain't the money." At this moment Katey ap- 
 proached. She gave her a sharp, keen glance. " Well, 
 you can come in, I reckon ; an' I'll find ye something 
 to eat," she said, at last, leading the way into a low 
 kitchen, bare enough, but neat in its appointments, 
 where a couple of tow-headed children playing upon 
 the floor immediately hid themselves under the table. 
 
 " Perhaps you could give this lady a room where 
 she could rest while I see what can be done about 
 going on," suggested the professor ; and Katey pres- 
 ently found herself shut into a tiny bedroom opening 
 from the kitchen, with an outlook through its one win- 
 dow upon the green grass-plot before the front door. 
 Here she strove to remove the traces of travel, mak- 
 ing her toilet before a little glass hanging above the 
 high chest of drawers, which distorted her features 
 oddly. 
 
 When, after a time, she returned to the kitchen, the 
 woman had taken herself and her family out of the
 
 270 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 way, a luncli was spread upon the table, and the pro- 
 fessor stood with his back to her, before the window, 
 alone. He turned as she closed the door after her. 
 There was an expression of annoyance upon his face, 
 which cleared at sight of Katey. 
 
 " I suppose we may sit down," he said, moving 
 towards the table. His manner was constrained and 
 absent. They ate in silence ; Katey wondering, but 
 not daring to ask, what information he had gained, or 
 how they were to proceed to La Fayette. 
 
 " I am going to find the man of the house, and see 
 what means he has of sending us on," the professor 
 said, when they rose at last. There had come a 
 strange consciousness into his face, almost like em- 
 barrassment. He paused with his hand upon the 
 door. " You had better remain in your room until I 
 send for you. I shall tell the woman you are lying 
 down, so that she need not disturb you. One never 
 knows what such people may say," he added, hastily ; 
 " don't talk with her." Then he went out, and shut 
 the door. 
 
 " What they may say ? " thought Katey. What could 
 they say ? She was too tired to think about it. She 
 went back to the little close room, and threw herself 
 upon the bed to rest during the brief time of waiting, 
 and fell at once into a heavy sleep. Some one stood 
 over her presently. It was the woman of the house, 
 who touched her arm. 
 
 " Your husband would like to have you come out, 
 ma'am, as soon as you are ready." Then she left her 
 to herself again. 
 
 Katey sprang up, her face tingling, her fingers awk- 
 ward over the tying of her hat. One never, indeed,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 271 
 
 knew what these people might say ! She stood a mo- 
 ment, her hand upon the door latch. What if the pro- 
 fessor had heard the summons ! She was shy at the 
 thought of meeting him. Then, putting away her silly 
 fears, and making herself brave for the moment, she 
 went out. The woman was alone in the kitchen, clear- 
 ing away the remains of their lunch. 
 
 " He's in the parlor," she said without looking up, 
 going on with her work, but motioning with her head 
 towards the door. Long afterwards that little room 
 rested in Katey's memory with its dull, home-spun 
 carpet, its homely furniture sot at ungainly angles, 
 the queer silhouettes over the high mantle, the tiny 
 window-panes, against which the branches of an apple 
 tree outside, stunted and gnarled, tapped unceasingly. 
 The flush had not died out of her face, and there was 
 a little tremor in her hands, as she pushed open the 
 door. The professor rose from the sofa where he had 
 been lying. 
 
 " What is it ? " he said, quickly, closing the door 
 after her. " What has she said to you ? " 
 
 " Nothing ; or nothing of any consequence," Katey 
 replied, angry at herself as she felt the color mount to 
 her hair. 
 
 " I wish you would tell me." 
 
 Then she told, stammering over the words : " She 
 only said that is, she' thought I was your wife." 
 
 " ! " He seemed greatly relieved by the brief sen- 
 tence \vliidi had so embarrassed her. "It is my fault 
 if there is any," he went on, hesitating over the 
 words, and yet speaking quite calmty. " I gave her 
 to understand so." 
 
 " What do you mean ? How dared you ! " Katey
 
 272 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 turned upon him in indignant astonishment. But 
 there was neither shame nor quailing in the eyes 
 which met hers. 
 
 " You are very angry, then ? " 
 
 " It was not true," she said, faintly. 
 
 He led her to the sofa, and made her sit down. 
 " Think a moment," he said. " How could I bring 
 you to the door here, and say you were nothing to 
 me?" 
 
 "0, wait," cried Katey, in distress. Then her hot 
 face dropped into her hands. 
 
 " We are twenty miles from La Fayette. We must 
 have shortened the distance in our wanderings across 
 the country," he went on, without appearing to notice 
 her. " I hardly think we can have walked so far as 
 that. It is full twenty miles by the road, this man 
 informs me, and there is no way of reaching there 
 
 from here but by proceeding to A , ten miles 
 
 farther on, and taking the train back to La Fayette 
 to-night." 
 
 He rose and began to pace the room. Katey had 
 made no reply. She had expressed neither surprise 
 nor assent. She sat trembling and silent in the corner 
 of the old sofa. 
 
 " It will be better," he said, presently, drawing a 
 chair and sitting doAvn before her, " to understand the 
 whole matter. Indeed, I must* talk this over plainly 
 with you. I had the misfortune, if it be one, to incur 
 Miss Wormley's resentment a few weeks ago. She 
 uttered some threats then, of which I thought noth- 
 ing at the time.. I am inclined to believe now that 
 she has bided her time, and taken this opportunity to 
 wreak her vengeance. I could laugh at it but for
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 273 
 
 you. You can think, perhaps, what sho may do for 
 us in La Fayette," he added. " She could not have 
 chosen a better time, and every hour of absence has 
 weakened our position there." 
 
 " Let us go back at once, then ; " and Katey made a 
 hurried movement to put on her shawl. 
 
 " We cannot start now. A stage will pass here in 
 
 an hour, or more, on its way to A . We must take 
 
 that." 
 
 Again he rose and paced the floor. Then he paused. 
 " You promised yesterday that when I bade you leave 
 La Fayette you would go." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What if I say now, Don't return there ? Indeed," 
 he added, quickly, " there is but one way in which 
 I dare let you go back. Child ! what might they 
 not say to you do to you ! Go home to your 
 sister." 
 
 " And let the teachers and the girls believe I was 
 ashamed to return ? Arid have strange stories come 
 creeping after me ? O, never ! How can you ask 
 it? Besides, I cannot, if I would. Mrs. Estcmere is 
 abroad. The house is closed." 
 
 " But you have a brother." 
 
 " Yes, Jack : " arid Katey's eyes shone as she spoke 
 his name. " He is on his way to the Army of the 
 Potomac before this time. His wife will follow him to 
 Washington perhaps she has already. You see I 
 have no other home just now. I must return to La 
 Fayette." 
 
 " But you have friends the Durants." 
 
 " And could I go to any of them like this? Profess- 
 or Dyce, you mean to be kind, but you are cruel." 
 18
 
 274 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 He went away to the window without a word. He 
 stood staring out into the apple tree. 
 
 "Why don't you think of yourself?" she asked, 
 presently, breaking the stillness of the room with the 
 voice which held a little tremor yet. " What will you 
 do ? How can you go back ? They distrust you now. 
 You are a marked man in the town, I know. You 
 acknowledge that you may have to leave at any time. 
 They will say " 
 
 " What will they say ? " He turned his head, but 
 not his eyes, as he waited for her to go on. 
 
 " They will say " 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " That you have run away with one of the teachers." 
 
 " But if I return ? " 
 
 " That will make no difference. They will ask what 
 has become of me." 
 
 He crossed the room and stood before her, grave and 
 calm. " Miss Earle, will you be my wife ? " 
 
 Katey shrank back without speaking. 
 
 A shadow touched his face. 
 
 " It is too soon, I see," he said. 
 
 And " You are too generous," she replied, at the 
 same moment. 
 
 " I fear I am not generous at all," he said. " I have 
 thought for a long time I should some day ask you 
 that question. Years hence, perhaps, when I dared 
 hope you would not say no." 
 
 " And you ask me now because I am homeless ? " 
 
 He took up her words eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, because you are homeless, and in trouble ; 
 because you have nowhere to go, and there is no one 
 now to care for you but me ! I wish with all my heart
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 275 
 
 you were alone in the world, as you are alone here. I 
 could almost desire you to be cast out and despised, 
 so that I " 
 
 He stretched his arms towards her, but Katey, 
 drawing back into her shadowy corner, gazed at him 
 with frightened eyes. His arms fell, he turned ab- 
 ruptly to the window. 
 
 There was silence in the little, low room. Then by 
 and by a hand touched the professor's arm. Katey 's 
 face was very pale and grave. 
 
 " Would it be better for you would it be easier 
 for you to go back if you married me ? " 
 
 " I suppose so. But don't think of that. I shall 
 do well enough ; " and he made a little effort to shake 
 off her hand. 
 
 " Then, if you please," she went on meekly, " I will 
 be your wife." 
 
 " And sacrifice yourself in your generosity ? Not 
 to me." 
 
 " Then you will not take me ? " 
 
 A great flood of color swept over his forehead. He 
 leaned his head against the window-frame. " Go 
 away, please, or I shall say yes, and be ashamed of 
 myself afterwards." 
 
 " And and it wouldn't be a sacrifice. It fright- 
 ened me at first, it was so strange ; and it seemed such 
 a little time since " Then she broke down. 
 
 He laid her head against his shoulder, and stroked 
 her hair, as he might have done to almost any one in 
 trouble. "You cannot love me? That is so is it 
 not ? " and a sigh moved Katey's cheek where it lay. 
 
 " I don't know," she answered, hiding her face. 
 
 " I think I will be persuaded to take you," he said,
 
 276 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 with a little low laugh. " The benefit of the doubt is 
 mine." Then he was grave again. " At least, you 
 are not afraid to put your future into my hands ? You 
 can trust me can you not ? " He raised her face so 
 that he could look into her eyes. 
 
 " Entirely ; " and she laid her two hands in his as 
 the door opened.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A BEGGAR-MAID. 
 
 IT was the mistress of the house who thrust her head 
 in to say, 
 
 " The stage is coming down the hill." 
 
 " Very well ; we are ready," replied the professor. 
 " Our preparations for departure are tolerably simple," 
 he added, taking up his hat and Katey's shawl. 
 
 It was a heavy, old-fashioned coach which drew up 
 before the door at sight of the waiting party, after an 
 alarming swoop at the small house. The driver swung 
 himself down from his place. There was but one pas- 
 senger inside an old lady of prim, genteel air, with 
 soft curls of white hair upon each side of her delicate 
 face, and a large black satin reticule in her lap. Katey 
 was conscious of painful embarrassment as she took 
 the seat beside her. The judgment of the world, the 
 speech of people, had become all at once matters of 
 most vital interest. She felt the old lady's eyes fixed 
 upon the rents in her gown, which would obtrude 
 themselves in spite of her efforts at concealment. 
 Who could this girl be? aristocratic in appearance, 
 picked up at a lonely farm-house with not so much as 
 a hand-satchel for luggage, dressed in a pretty but 
 shockingly torn gown, with a gentleman attendant of 
 whom she seemed strangely shy and wonder checked
 
 278 KATHERTNE EARLE. 
 
 the sentence upon the old lady's lips a passing re- 
 mark upon the weather. 
 
 Katey felt the glance without seeing it. She felt, 
 too, the slight drawing away of the neat black skirts. 
 " 0, dear ! " she thought, " it must be that I do not 
 look respectable ! " and involuntarily she glanced 
 down upon the poor, despised gown, and the one 
 glove, held fast from an instinct of propriety, the 
 other having disappeared somewhere in her wander- 
 ings. Was Professor Dyce ashamed of her? She 
 turned anxiously to the corner where he sat, only to 
 meet the questioning glance of a pair of keen gray 
 eyes, and a smile which set her fears at rest. She 
 could bear it if he did not care, and she shook out her 
 drapery as though it had been rustling silk, and set- 
 tled herself anew before closing her eyes and resign- 
 ing herself to sleep. She was conscious, occasionally, 
 of the rolling, rattling motion as they flew down the 
 rough hills, or climbed others slowly,, swinging to and 
 fro ; of a pause once, and the sound of voices ; then, 
 at last, the jolting over pavements aroused her. They 
 were descending again, but more deliberately ; a wide 
 river wound away below them ; the street was crowded 
 and noisy, and full of life ; beyond the river another 
 city spread itself as far as the eye could see. Katey 
 rubbed her eyes, bewildered by the change. There 
 was a heavy lurch, a smooth roll, a pause, the snort of 
 steam, the sound of machinery. 
 
 "Where are we?" she asked aloud, and sat up- 
 right. 
 
 " We are crossing the ferry to A ," the professor 
 
 replied. 
 
 "Where do you want to go?" asked the driver, 
 thrusting his head in at the window.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 279 
 
 "We will get out here ; " and the professor assisted 
 Katey to alight. " Good by," she said, pleasantly, to 
 the old lady in the corner. " 0, 1 am not at all dread- 
 ful; only I have spoiled my gown," she wanted to 
 add, as the twinkling eyes stared in perplexity a mo- 
 ment ; then the white curls bobbed graciously. 
 
 They reached the other side, and, mingling with 
 the crowd, pressed forward up the narrow, dirty 
 streets, and out at last into an open space, edged by 
 the water upon one side, and by a thronged street 
 upon the other. Here, where the river bent and bore 
 away, a bit of the shore had been reserved from com? 
 merce, squalor, and dirt. Broad, white stones were 
 under one's feet ; all about were trees and flowers 
 jealously guarded, poor, gayly-dressed prisoners be- 
 hind iron bars, and scattered here and there seats, 
 where the tired and foot- sore might rest. Away be- 
 yond was the open bay, blue, and twinkling under the 
 bright sky, ploughed into snowy furrows by the 
 steamers, or white with gleaming sails. 
 
 " 0, how beautiful ! " cried Katey. The wind 
 seized the little gray hat with its scarlet wing; it 
 caught her frayed gray gown as she stood with her 
 bare hands clasped, her face like a song. A party of 
 handsomely dressed people turned to stare at the 
 figure. One of the young men raised his eye-glass 
 and scanned her with open, impertinent admiration. 
 " I tell you, Guy, there's a study," he said to his 
 companion. 
 
 Katey caught the words met the stare. 
 
 " 0, please, let us go on ; " and she hurried forward, 
 glad to be hidden again in the crowded street. They 
 were approaching the first of the many spires she had
 
 280 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 marked from the boat. It was upon an old church, left 
 here by an odd chance, it would seem, in the midst of 
 the whirl of business, like some grim old apostle plant- 
 ing its feet firmly upon the pavement, though jostled, 
 and edged, and pushed by men in their greed for gain. 
 And the text swung out on its silvery chimes in sum- 
 mer's heat or winter's cold, when storms wrapped the 
 belfry round, or the sunshine fell like a blessing upon 
 the wild, restless heart of the city, was ever the same : 
 " Ye cannot serve God and Mammon 1 Ye cannot serve 
 God and Mammon I " 
 
 Upon one side was the church-yard. Ah ! how 
 heavy must be the slumber which all this tumult had 
 no power to awaken ! Upon the other, a little gar- 
 den, full of flowers gay verbenas, tall, gaudy dahlias, 
 and close against the wall a tangle of sweet-peas. 
 Some street children, straying in through the tall iron 
 gate, moved about the narrow paths, staring awe- 
 struck and wondering at the blossoms. Religion, of 
 which these waifs knew nothing, may seem more 
 beautiful some day who knows ? for the fragrance 
 of the flowers growing under the shadow of the church 
 walls. 
 
 Katey paused to peer through the open gateway. 
 The professor pushed aside the gate, and went in like 
 a man who has a purpose. She followed, but it was 
 only when she stood in the deep-arched doorway, and 
 he looked back to *her, with his hand upon the door, 
 that she realized why they had come here. 
 
 " Is it now ? " she asked, with a frightened voice, 
 leaning against the stones. 
 
 " Are you sorry ? Do you repent ? Wait think 
 a moment," and his hand fell from the door. " It is 
 not yet too late."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 281 
 
 The noise of the street was in her ears ; the voices 
 of the children, the odor of the flowers, came to her. 
 Afterwards, when she remembered this time, all these 
 were more vividly present to her mind than any 
 words. 
 
 " You are not a child, that I should lead you against 
 your will. Still, God knows, I have thought this best 
 for you. And yet," he added, " if you should ever 
 regret it ! I could not bear that, Katey ! " 
 
 The children shouted at their play. Their shrill 
 voices sounded above the roar of the city. All at once 
 the tones of the organ rolled out, bearing the chanted 
 prayer to her ears. She had not thought of a service 
 at this hour, and upon a week-day, as it was. It came 
 in a great wave, dying away in the lingering " A-men." 
 Katey had listened breathlessly. She drew a long 
 sigh at its close. 
 
 " I am not sorry," she said, softly. " It frightened 
 me ; that is all. It is so sudden and strange. No, I 
 do not repent, and I am ready now." 
 
 He pushed open the inner door. The service was 
 just concluded, the last strains of the organ floating 
 off among the groined arches of the roof. A soft twi- 
 light enwrapped the clustered columns ; the rays of 
 sunlight through the rich stained windows fell aslant 
 upon the floor in quivering rainbows. There was no 
 congregation, save an old woman, who rose from kneel- 
 ing in a pew behind one of the pillars to shuffle softly 
 out, and a party of strangers an elderly gentleman 
 and a young girl, who had been sitting near the door. 
 They, too, rose now, and began to walk about, pausing 
 to examine the carved designs over the organ-loft. 
 
 The clergyman, in his white gown, closed the book
 
 282 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 before him with a hasty movement, and disappeared 
 through a little door behind the desk. He was a young 
 man. Did he find the service a weariness so soon ? Or 
 was he impatient that the prayers had died away 
 among the pillars without response ? 
 
 The silence, the hush of the place, the noise of the 
 city, subdued to a great sobbing sigh, like that which 
 comes from an over-full heart, the faint chill which fell 
 upon her as she stepped in out of the sunshine, brought 
 a strange awe to Katey, sitting in one corner of the 
 great dark pew by the door. The professor had fol- 
 lowed the minister. Left thus alone, she nevertheless 
 did not consider deliberately and gravely the step 
 she was about to take the new life she was enter- 
 ing upon with so little preparation. In that last con- 
 fused moment, before any great event in life, there is 
 no sober reflection. Hopes and fears, recollections, 
 and a sense of the commonest things around us, crowd 
 close against the door about to be opened. They 
 jostle and tread upon each other. 
 
 Shivering in her corner, partly from nervousness, 
 and partly from the chill of the place, Katey watched 
 the rays of light falling at her feet from the painted 
 window above her, and remembered the tinkling pen- 
 dants to the candelabra in the old house on Poplar 
 Street, which she and Jack had placed in the sunlight 
 many a time, evoking rainbows more wonderful than 
 these. Dear old Jack ! Would he be angry with her 
 for this ? And Delphine, what would she say ? A 
 sudden misgiving and fear seized her a desire to 
 push open the folding door behind her, and run away 
 from her promise ; out into the crowded streets, some- 
 where, anywhere. He would not pursue her; he
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 283 
 
 would never try to bring her back. And then there 
 was a little stir in the distance, the closing of a door ; 
 and just as it comes to us all sometimes, when we are 
 tempted to do the wildest, most unconventional deeds, 
 a spirit of mischief or recklessness having entered in 
 and taken possession of us, suddenly the lights are 
 turned on, the bell rings, the curtain rises, we shake 
 out our draperies, draw on our gloves, and step out be- 
 fore the audience which greets us each and all daily, 
 without a thought, even, of the moment before and its 
 temptation. So, as Katey bent forward, half rising, 
 her hand upon the back of the seat before her, her 
 head turned to the door, all at once there was a move- 
 ment in the further corner. The clergyman, in his 
 robes, appeared again; the professor was coming 
 towards her. She rose, to be sure, but she had al- 
 ready forgotten the door, the streets, and her wild im- 
 pulse. They passed down the aisle in the dim, soft 
 light, her hand trembling a little upon the professor's 
 arm. And yet she was not afraid ; she did not re- 
 pent, now that the time had come. The words of the 
 exhortation passed like the rustle of leaves in the 
 wind upon her hearing. What was this her own 
 voice was saying? A break in the service brought 
 her back to herself. 
 
 " Who giveth this woman to be married to this 
 man ? " 
 
 A silence followed the words. No one had been 
 provided. They were a strange, forlorn bridal party, 
 without friends. " Jack ought to be here ! " thought 
 Katey, with a little sobbing gasp. 
 
 All in a moment, before she breathed again, a deep, 
 pleasant voice behind her spoke: "Will you allow
 
 284 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 me ? " The elderly gentleman whom she had noticed 
 when they entered the church stepped forward and 
 took her hand, and the service went on, the professor 
 removing a ring from his own ringer to put upon 
 hers. 
 
 In the moment of confusion, at its close, Katey found 
 herself receiving congratulations from the gentleman 
 who had offered his services so opportunely. 
 
 " I shall feel an interest in your future, madam," 
 he said, " since I have had a hand in its disposal." 
 
 He beckoned to his daughter, who came up timidly. 
 She was a sweet-faced young girl ; and when she 
 hesitated, and then held up her lips, Katey brightened 
 and warmed inwardly. It was not an utterly forlorn 
 wedding party, after all ; it was something to have 
 had good wishes, even from strangers. They came 
 down the aisle together, but as they neared the door, 
 Katey hung back, and their new acquaintances politely 
 bade them adieu. 
 
 " They are stopping at a hotel close by," said the 
 professor, who had exchanged cards, and some words 
 which Katey did not hear, with the old gentleman, as 
 the two followed the young lady and herself down 
 through the church. " I wish I had taken you there. 
 It is not too late now. I must leave you somewhere 
 for an hour. Our train will not start until late, I 
 think about nine. I have to inquire and telegraph to 
 Professor Payne." 
 
 " Must I go there, to the hotel? " and Katey still 
 hung back. " I'm afraid " and then she hesitated. 
 She laughed, blushing a little over the confession. " I 
 don't believe I could bear the eyes of the women. 
 They would stare so at my gown."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 285 
 
 The professor glanced hastily from the scarlet wing 
 in her hat to the tip of the slender, dusty boot. 
 
 " 1 confess my ignorance as to such matters," he 
 said, " but I "thought your costume very picturesque 
 and becoming. I am sure more than one turned to 
 look after you as we came up the street." 
 
 " And no wonder," laughed Katey ; " to kilt one's 
 gown like this, especially on such a bright, clear day, 
 would attract attention anywhere." 
 
 The professor knit his brows in thought. " Suppose 
 you let it down? " 
 
 " But it is torn ; " and she spread out the folds. I 
 have lost my gloves, too. A great many sins might 
 be forgiven a woman, but not bare hands in the street," 
 she added ; " and I fear that altogether I do not look 
 respectable. At least I have not that inner conscious- 
 ness of being well-dressed which makes one equal to 
 any occasion. I I can't go. Don't think I mind 
 it," she said, quickly ; " only," she added, truthfully, " 1 
 believe J do." At which womanly way of stating the 
 difficulty, the professor laughed. 
 
 They had moved on slowly to the porch. Doubt- 
 less no bride had ever before stood here devising her 
 trousseau ! 
 
 " Could you not go out and buy some of these things ? 
 We have time enough." 
 
 If time were only true money ! 
 
 " I could yes ; but, you see, I I neglected to 
 bring away my purse." 
 
 She tried to hide her embarrassment with a sweep- 
 ing courtesy, spreading out the folds of the torn gown. 
 
 " King Cophetua, I look very like a beggar-maid 
 do I not ? " she said, with another little laugh.
 
 28 G KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " You look " began the professor ; but an old, 
 gray-headed sexton shambled out from the church at 
 that moment and stood in the doorway, and the sen- 
 tence never was finished. " That can easily be reme- 
 died," the professor said, quickly, " if we only have 
 time. I will leave you here, then. I shall not be 
 gone more than an hour. You will not close the 
 church at present, I, suppose ? " he said to the sexton. 
 
 " Eh ? " and the old man turned his face towards 
 them. 
 
 The professor repeated the question. 
 
 " Close 'e church ? Lord, no ! We don't never 
 close her. 'Cept for an hour or two at midnight. 
 And that's all the thanks we get ; just a-prayin' here 
 and a-prayin', and the choir a-chantin', and my nevew 
 a-spendin' his strength a-blowin' at the belluses, and 
 all for nothin' ; folks don't care enough about their 
 perishin' souls to come in and say amen." And still 
 muttering to himself, he wandered back into the church 
 again. 
 
 " Then you had better stay here," said the professor 
 to Katey.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 87 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THERE'S ROSEMARY ; THAT'S FOR REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 SHE stepped out into the garden when he had left 
 her. The children had gone, and the people hur- 
 rying by paid little heed to her or to the flowers. Only 
 a party of emigrants strolling up from the dock, dark- 
 eyed, listless in manner, brightened at sight of the 
 blossoms. A dusky-eyed boy among them pulled at 
 his mother's faded blue gown, and uttered a quick, 
 sharp exclamation in an unknown tongue. He pointed 
 to the gay salvias, and held out his hand to Katey, as 
 he lingered behind the others. If she might only 
 have given him one spray ! But a notice before her 
 eyes warned all persons against picking the flowers. 
 She pointed to it, shaking her head. He seemed to 
 understand ; he nodded and smiled a wonderful smile', 
 all flash of eyes and gleam of white teeth, then throw- 
 ing a kiss, half saucily, half in gallantry, from the tips 
 of his fingers, hastened after the others. 
 
 " Be you the bride ? " and Katey looked up to find 
 the old sexton regarding her curiously. He stood in 
 the doorway, his cap pushed back from his roughened, 
 grisly locks, his hands upon his hips, with the air of a 
 man who rests at last from his labors. 
 
 " I was married just now, in there," Katey replied, 
 modestly, motioning towards the church. To be a
 
 288 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 bride would seem to involve various attending cir- 
 cumstances something of display, the rejoicing of 
 friends, all of which had been lacking at her wedding. 
 
 " H'm," he groaned, reflectively. " A good many 
 brides come here, first and last. We make a deal o' 
 happiness an' misery, I reckon. It's a lesson to some 
 of 'em," he added, grimly, 
 
 " Yes," Katey assented, gravely, " I suppose it is," 
 when he paused for a response. 
 
 " P'raps you'd like some flowers ? " And he moved 
 rheumatically out from the doorway. 
 
 " I should, indeed." 
 
 " 'Tain't often I have a chance to give a nosegay to 
 a bride. They come, mostly, in their fine carriages, 
 with their frumpery an' their furbelows, a-carryin' 
 their own flowers a-danglin' from their arms. Sim- 
 perin' an' gigglin' often, with no sense o' the solemn- 
 ness o' the place or the vows they're a-goin' to take 
 on 'em. To see 'em, year in and year out, gives one 
 an awful sense o' the hollowness o' things. There," - 
 and he pulled a ravelling from his frayed coat sleeve, 
 and tied up the posies, as he knelt in the path, " they 
 all have a sweet smell ; none o' your brazen-faced, 
 flauntin' things, good for nothin' but to stare at. 
 You're welcome, ma'am," when Katey thanked him 
 warmly. " They're fresh and sweet, and maybe when 
 they're withered you'll like to keep 'em to remember 
 the day. I hope it'll always seem kind o' sunshiny 
 to look back to. I ain't entered upon the state my- 
 self, yet," and he rested his hands on his back, as he 
 rose up slowly and painfully, " but it seems to me 
 it's a kind o' bearin' o' one another's burdens, and that 
 always brings a blesshr, you know."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 289 
 
 He shuffled off down the path, and disappeared 
 within the church door, leaving the flowers in Katey's 
 hand, and very solemn, tender thoughts in her heart. 
 She had taken this step as she did so many in her 
 life from an impulse of strong feeling, unselfish, 
 perhaps, but none the less likely to entail sorrow. 
 She had hardly realized the awkward situation in 
 which she found herself; but she had been touched by 
 the professor's tender, chivalrous care, and, above all, 
 by the revelation of his unsuspected affection for her. 
 And yet that had frightened and distressed her. She 
 had so little to give in return only her faith, her 
 entire trust. Though, did she but know it, they were 
 the germs of a deeper love than any she dreamed of 
 now. 
 
 The old man's words lingered in her ears, when she 
 had wandered back to the church and seated herself 
 in the corner of one of the carved pews to wait there 
 in the gathering darkness for her husband's return. 
 Her husband ! She had not considered seriously, 
 calmly, as she should have, perhaps ; but she would be 
 a true wife to him now. And thinking thus, a peace 
 like the fulfilment of a blessed promise fell upon her 
 with the shadows. She had uttered the words of as- 
 sent before the altar in a dull, stunned way, without 
 any sense of their meaning ; it was now, in the peace- 
 ful twilight, turning upon her finger the ring, which 
 still felt strange and out of place, that she made her 
 marriage vow. 
 
 Night came early in the church. It was quite dark 
 when the doors opened, and she started to meet a step 
 upon the stones. Outside the day still lingered, loath 
 to go. 
 
 19
 
 290 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " I have been detained," said the professor. " I 
 hope the time has not been dull." 
 
 " 0, no ! " She displayed her flowers and told of the 
 interview with the old sexton ; but she kept back the 
 words which had touched her most. She had thought 
 in the dim old church to tell it all, with what had been 
 in her heart ; but it did not seem so easy to do now, 
 out in the bustling streets. 
 
 They went about from one place to another upon 
 their odd shopping expedition. To replace the torn 
 gown at a moment's notice was impossible. Neither 
 art nor skill had travelled so far at that time ; but 
 Katey found a pretty wrap, hooded and tassejled, which 
 fell to her feet, hiding all imperfections, a deep, 
 bright tartan, which set off well the graceful figure 
 and dark, sweet face. A bonnet, with bands and loops 
 in the same rich hues, completed the transformation. 
 
 " It makes a difference," she said, drawing on the 
 gloves of an unobtrusive tint, which had been the 
 acme of her desires. " I am conscious of being now a 
 thoroughly respectable member of society. I felt like 
 a gypsy before. I believe I could have played a tam- 
 bourine or told fortunes upon the curbstones, with no 
 sense of inappropriateness or of surprise at myself." 
 
 " It will be wise in me to attend to your outward 
 adorning, then," rejoined the professor, " lest I find 
 you haranguing a multitude, because your hat chances 
 to have a strong-minded cant, or following a hand- 
 organ, because you have forgotten your gloves." 
 
 He spoke absently. Her light words had called up 
 only a brief, grave smile. How unlike his manner was 
 to that of the impassioned speaker in the dull farm- 
 house parlor only a few hours before ! She rerneni-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 291 
 
 bered, all at once, that lie had said no word of gladness 
 that she was his wife ; he had not even called her by 
 that new name. He was Professor Dyce again ; quiet, 
 grave, and calm. For a little time he had been some 
 one entirely new and strange to her. There flashed 
 upon her mind the recollection of a carriage which 
 had driven past the open window where she stood 
 once, long ago. It held a bridal party, which had just 
 left the door of the church. In that flash, as the 
 carriage dashed by, she had seen the bridegroom's face 
 the proud, happy face turned to the woman beside 
 him. She had never thought of it since. But it 
 seemed it had staid in her memory to rise now. How 
 silly ! she thought, vexed with herself. As if he had 
 nothing to think of at this moment but the questiona- 
 ble happiness of possessing her ! And she ran down 
 the steps and slipped her hand into his arm. 
 
 " Well," he said, brightly, " and now ? " 
 
 " I believe that is all ; I am more than satisfied ; I 
 fear I am wickedly happy and vain." 
 
 " You have gained the inner consciousness, then?" 
 
 " 0, more than that." 
 
 " Well, we have still an hour before the train leaves. 
 We can go directly to the station, and take our tea 
 there while we wait, or to the hotel." 
 
 " Let us go to the station," Eatey said. So they 
 walked slowly on up the streets, twinkling with lights 
 now, and full of an eager crowd of people going their 
 several ways, each intent upon his own business or 
 pleasure, but all hurrying whither? 
 
 They lingered long over their tea in the quiet 
 waiting-room of the station ; then, at last, the train 
 swept in with the shriek of a whistle and the clang
 
 292 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 of bells, and soon they were rushing away towards La 
 Fayette. All manner of vague apprehensions rose in 
 Katey's mind as they neared their destination. The 
 events of the past two days had been so strange, that 
 she had hardly anticipated an hour. "What could 
 they say to us ? What could they do ? " rose to her 
 lips many times, as, with her face pressed against the 
 window, she watched the sparks flying by in the 
 darkness, and realized how swiftly they were being 
 borne to meet this judgment, whatever it might be. 
 The professor was absorbed in his own thoughts. But 
 at the last, as they were leaving the train, she felt that 
 she must speak. 
 
 " Tell me," she whispered, while her heart beat 
 violently, as they were delayed a moment by the 
 rush of in- coming passengers, " what shall I say to 
 them all ? " 
 
 It was a comprehensive question ; but she had ut- 
 tered the first words which occurred to her. 
 
 " Say as little as possible," was the professor's re- 
 ply. " I think I can trust to your discretion." 
 
 But in her discretion, of which every one else was 
 assured, Katey had no confidence whatever. 
 
 Foremost among the jostling, hurrying crowd, when 
 they reached the platform, was Professor Payne. Sur- 
 prise almost took away Katey's breath. It was all 
 confusion ; there was a hurried word of greeting, the 
 utterance of her new name ; but she gathered nothing 
 more until she heard Professor Dyce say, 
 
 " I thought of taking her to the hotel." 
 
 " Don't consider it for a moment," Professor Payne 
 replied, in a tone which was certainly cordial. " You 
 are both expected at the school. This way j I took
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 293 
 
 occasion to engage a carriage ; " and almost before 
 she knew it, Katey found herself seated in it and 
 whirling rapidly up the hill. Nothing dreadful was 
 to happen, then, after all ? The shock was almost too 
 great to bear. She had tried to nerve herself for 
 combat. It was a tilt against a windmill. 
 
 Kind, timid Miss Hersey opened the door when 
 they reached the house. She greeted Katey with a 
 warmth quite unlike her usual shy, cool manner. Did 
 no one blame her ? Would no one look coldly upon 
 her ? Ah, but it would have been different if she had 
 not returned as Professor Dyce's wife ! In the ex- 
 citement of the moment she did not notice by which 
 door they had entered, until she found herself in what 
 had formerly been the president's parlor. 
 
 " We thought you had better take these rooms, at 
 least for the present," Miss Hersey said. " You'll find 
 them rather bare ; but that can be remedied later." 
 
 The pretty personal effects, the quaint foreign or- 
 naments, all which had given to the room its peculiar 
 charm, were gone ; the plain, heavy furniture alone 
 remained. But a bright fire burned in the grate, and 
 upon the mantel was a bouquet so large, the flowers 
 of so rare a kind, that no one but Clary Luckiwinner 
 could ever have chosen it. And who should come 
 flying in at this moment to seize her about the neck 
 but Clary herself, her eyes swollen, her face shining 
 from past tears and present rejoicing. 
 
 " She begged so hard that I allowed her to sit up 
 for you," Miss Hersey said, apologetically. " But you 
 must go now, Clary ; Mrs. Dyce is tired," I presume.'' 
 
 Clary tore herself reluctantly away, but not before 
 Katey had admired and thanked her for the startling
 
 294 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 bouquet which threatened every moment to topple 
 into the grate. Professor Payne and Miss Hersey still 
 lingered. 
 
 " Perhaps," suggested the former, rubbing his dry 
 hands and regarding the professor and Katey with a 
 delighted air which was beyond all comprehension to 
 the persons most interested, " perhaps they would 
 like to partake of some refreshments ? " 
 
 But they declined. " We took tea at A ," Ka- 
 tey explained. 
 
 " Then we will bid you good night." 
 
 " I should like to see you a few moments in tho 
 library," Professor Dyce said to Professor Payne, as 
 the latter was leaving the room. " I will come to you 
 there immediately." 
 
 Katey had followed Miss Hersey to the hall, where 
 she astonished the good woman by throwing her arms 
 around her neck, and kissing her warmly. 
 
 " That is < good night,' " she said, with a little 
 laugh. But away down in her heart she knew it ex- 
 pressed much more, which she could not put into words. 
 She came back and stood before the fire, taking off 
 her hat and the pretty bright wrap. She heard the 
 door close, and Professor Payne's step dying away. 
 She was thinking as the most trivial thoughts do 
 flit through our minds when we are in the midst of 
 the most startling or care-bearing events how odd 
 it was to be bareheaded again! just that, as she 
 smoothed back her hair. 
 
 " Poor girl," said the professor, leaning upon the 
 mantel, and regarding her with tender, curious eyes, 
 " were you very anxious ? " 
 
 " 0, very, for a little while. I almost thought they 
 would turn us out of doors."
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 295 
 
 He smiled, but the gray eyes flashed. 
 
 " They would not have dared to do that. But I must 
 go to Professor Payne. I shall tell him the whole as 
 far as the circumstances of our losing the way. and all 
 that, are concerned," he corrected himself. " He is a 
 thoroughly just man, and will aid me in getting at the 
 truth. I must learn what has taken place here, too, 
 before I meet the school to-morrow." He crossed the 
 room to the door while he was speaking ; then he came 
 back. " It is not an inviting home," he said, gently ; 
 " but my wife is very welcome." His lips touched 
 her forehead ; then he was gone. 
 
 She stood for a moment where he had left her, 
 the heavy wrap half slipped from her shoulders and 
 still grasped with one hand, a faint color called up to 
 her face ; then she awoke from her reverie with a 
 start, and set herself to examine her surroundings. 
 There was a dressing-room just beyond the parlor, she 
 knew ; and here again some slight attempt to prepare 
 for her coming had been made. Her gowns were 
 hanging in the wardrobe, her books piled upon the 
 floor without any attempt at arrangement. The showy 
 toilet articles upon the table were Clary's gift, she 
 knew. Much as she desired employment, restless as 
 she was at this moment, she could not put herself to 
 setting anything in order. Everything was unreal 
 and strange. She could not divest herself of the idea 
 that she should be called upon in a moment to start 
 again. She could not realize that her wanderings 
 were over. She was turning away when her eyes fell 
 upon a letter, unnoticed before, upon the white marble 
 of the dressing-table. She caught it up, a great throb 
 of terror whitening her face. It was from Dacre Home.
 
 296 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Why had he written to her now? She held it still 
 unopened in her hands. O, how bitter was the past ! 
 If she could only blot it out ! She had no sense of 
 pain only a dull, aching regret. " It was for noth- 
 ing," she said the anxiety, the striving, the praying 
 even. Why had this come to her, to bring it all back, 
 when she thought she had forgotten ? He was nothing 
 to her now ; and yet the letter was like a temptation. 
 If she could only open it ! Perhaps he had confessed 
 all to Christine, as she had urged him to do in her 
 letter ; perhaps he had changed his course ; she should 
 be so glad to know ; and yet she turned it over in her 
 hand. It was crumpled and torn at the edges, and 
 bore many post-marks. It must have been written 
 long ago, and wandered far. She read the superscrip- 
 tion Miss KatJterine Earle. It was not to her, after 
 all ; it was written for a girl who was no man's wife ! 
 Professor Dyce's strong, grave face rose suddenly be- 
 fore her. He would come to her presently her hus- 
 band, whom she had promised this day to love and 
 honor ; there should be no thought in her heart, please 
 God, which she should be ashamed or afraid for him to 
 know. She returned to the parlor. The fire still 
 blazed in the grate. She laid the letter upon the coals, 
 where it flamed for a moment, then died to ashes. 
 Then she sat down to await the conclusion of the con- 
 ference in the library.
 
 SHE LAID TIIK LETTER ri'<>.\ TIN-: ('<>.vi>, \VHKKK IT Ki.AMKD roll A 
 
 .MOMKM, TllKN D1KU TO AsilKS.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 UNTANGLING THE SKEIN. 
 
 IT was as they had suspected. Miss Wormley re- 
 turned to town with her charge the afternoon of 
 the picnic without waiting for the professor and Katey, 
 or making any effort to find them. Long before they 
 could have reached the spot to which she had sent them, 
 she joined the girls, who were already collected out- 
 side the woods, in the fields adjoining the road. She 
 made a feint of lingering here, then led the way at a 
 slow pace down the road towards the village, where 
 they were to take the omnibuses. Some of the girls 
 ventured to demur, and suggested that they should go 
 on alone to town, and leave Miss Wormley and one of 
 the older girls to return and seek the two who, being 
 strangers to the locality, had, perhaps, already lost 
 their way. But to this she would not listen for a mo- 
 ment. " What ! leave the girls to go back to town just 
 at nightfall alone ? " 
 
 She would return to town at once, though half of 
 La Fayette wandered lost among the woods and hills. 
 It was no fault of hers if laggards were left behind. 
 She had warned them. 
 
 " But you sent them away," said Clary Luckiwinner, 
 growing bold in her terror. " I went back for my 
 basket, and I saw you "
 
 298 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 " Silence, Miss Luckiwinner, and return to your 
 place ; you break the line." And so she marshalled 
 them all like a skilful tactician, as she was, and, put- 
 ting herself at the head, led the procession from the 
 omnibus station down to the school. 
 
 " They went for a walk, you say/' repeated Profess- 
 or Payne, nervously, when she immediately laid the 
 matter before him. She was sufficiently wise to say 
 little nothing, in fact, but that the delinquents had 
 wandered away, and failed to return in time to take 
 the omnibus. " They must have strayed farther than 
 they intended. It was thoughtless, certainly ; but 
 the next omnibus will bring them, without doubt." 
 
 " And you think I was right to return with the 
 girls ? I had no one to send after them, you know, 
 and if we had lingered there until dark " 
 
 " 0, to be sure," answered the professor. " Your 
 duty, unquestionably, was to see that the girls were 
 cared for and returned at a proper time." And he 
 went home to tea somewhat annoyed, but not at all 
 uneasy as to the final result. 
 
 When he came back later in the evening, and there 
 were still no tidings of the professor and Katey, he be- 
 gan to be seriously alarmed. The conviction that 
 they had lost their way forced itself upon his mind. 
 He knew something of the locality where they had 
 spent the afternoon. It was wild and sparsely set- 
 tled. With night coming on, and even by daylight, 
 one might wander for hours here without coming upon 
 a house or the turnpike, which wound among the hills. 
 He called Miss Hersey and Miss Wormley, the only 
 teachers in the house, for consultation. The growing ex- 
 citement among the girls necessitated some action, even
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 299 
 
 if common humanity did not demand it. It was long 
 past the hour of retiring, but still white-robed figures 
 flitted about the dormitory halls or gathered upon the 
 stairs. The hasty opening of the library door, where 
 the three teachers had met together, was followed by 
 the sound of scurrying feet and the disappearance of 
 ghostly forms into the darkness of the music-room and 
 up the stairway beyond. 
 
 And now, at the midnight council held in the library, 
 Miss Wormley ventured to go a step farther. It was 
 useless, in her opinion, which, perhaps, counted for 
 nothing, to search for the missing ones, since they 
 were, doubtless, miles away before this time. 
 
 "I I do not understand." Professor Payne's 
 mind was slow in its operation. He stared at her al- 
 most stupidly ; his under jaw dropped, his faded blue 
 eyes fixed in their expression of perplexity. 
 
 " I mean," she went on, boldly, " that no one could 
 be lost there in broad daylight. That is all." 
 
 She threw up her chin by a sudden movement as 
 she spoke, bringing her eyes upon a level with a row 
 of volumes in the library devoted to the discussion of 
 original sin. It was good to see the air of conscious 
 and severe virtue displayed in her countenance at 
 this moment. 
 
 " For shame ! " exclaimed Miss Hersey, hotly. 
 " There is nothing so mean as insinuations and 
 against those who cannot defend themselves ! " She 
 paused, frightened at her own boldness. The over- 
 charged weapon had recoiled ; she began to cry. 
 
 Poor, timid little Professor Payne was at his wit's 
 end. He had called them together for deliberation ; 
 the result seemed likely to be a quarrel. Uncon-
 
 300 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 sciously his strong sense of justice ranged him upon 
 Miss Hersey's side. 
 
 " Do I understand you to prefer charges against 
 Professor Dyce and Miss Earle ? " he demanded, with 
 a kind of trembling severity in his voice. 
 
 " 0, no, no ! Not at all ! I have no charges to pre- 
 fer. It is nothing to "me, I am sure ; " and Miss Worm- 
 ley seemed to scent a very pleasing and tranquillizing 
 odor in the air, quite above the heads of her com- 
 panions. 
 
 " If you mean to say that they have gone away de- 
 liberately, we can easily decide that by visiting their 
 rooms," said Miss Hersey, who had recovered her 
 dignity by this time, through wrath, which does 
 more than self-control, sometimes, towards drying 
 tears. " We should be likely, in that case, to find a 
 note stating their intention, or, at least, some signs of 
 preparation. I think we had better proceed at once," 
 she said to Professor Payne, who, by this time, was in 
 a state of mind to accept any suggestion. 
 
 Led by Miss Hersey, they proceeded to Katey's 
 room, followed and accompanied by the soft rustle of 
 garments, the stealthy, muffled sound of unseen feet, 
 the opening and closing of doors in the darkness but 
 feebly lighted by the lamp in Miss Hersey's hand 
 all of which ghostly sounds they were too much en- 
 grossed to heed or notice. The door was unlocked. 
 Everything in the little corner room appeared as 
 usual upon the table an open book, a bit of em- 
 broidery half completed ; the very air of the place, as 
 the light flared into it, was peace and expectation of 
 return. 
 
 They descended the stairs without speaking, and
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 301 
 
 went on down to the class-rooms, among which was 
 the professor's study. The door was locked, but after 
 a time a key was found to open it. Here, too, were 
 no marks of disorder, no suggestion of change. Miss 
 Wormley's eyes fastened upon a sheet of paper lying 
 upon the writing-table. It was a half-written letter. 
 The ink had dried upon the pen thrown down beside 
 it when the writer was called away. She took it up. 
 
 " Really," began Professor Payne, " we have no 
 right " 
 
 " Listen to this," said Miss Wormley, triumphantly > 
 and read aloud : " ' You will not bo surprised at any- 
 thing you hear of me, since my future movements are 
 so uncertain, especially if you learn that I have left 
 here suddenly ' " And there the letter broke off. 
 
 Even Miss Horsey was startled. " It may not refer 
 to this matter at all," she said at last, recovering her- 
 self. " We all know him to have had large interests 
 at stake here. The suit was decided some little time 
 ago in his favor. There is nothing, certainly, to keep 
 him here." 
 
 " Then you do believe he has gone ? " Miss Wormley 
 said, maliciously. 
 
 "In this way? No." But in truth Miss Horsey 
 did not know what to believe. 
 
 They returned to the library. To retire to their 
 own rooms was out of the question. The weight of 
 responsibility upon two, at least, of the party, banished 
 all thought of sleep. 
 
 Daylight struggled in at the window, and still they 
 had decided upon no course of action. Miss Wormley 
 dozed in her chair. Professor Payne and Miss Ilersey, 
 chilled, anxious, and miserable in body and mind, after
 
 302 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 their night of watching, still conversed together in 
 low tones at intervals. If Professor Dyce had left not 
 to return, steps must be taken to fill his place. The 
 trustees must be informed at once. What, and how 
 much, should be told the girls ? Who would fill the va- 
 cant places in the class-rooms ? or could the school go 
 on as usual ? All these considerations began to press 
 upon them with the dawn. Though Miss Hersey had 
 denied stoutly that the letter found in his study had 
 anything to do with Professor Dyce's disappearance, 
 and Professor Payne was inclined to agree with her, 
 it had still so far influenced both, that nothing was now 
 said of sending in search of them. 
 
 " I suppose we had better have prayers, as usual," 
 suggested Professor Payne at last, when signs of life 
 began to make themselves apparent throughout the 
 house. The poor man appeared more pinched, and 
 withered, and yellow than ever, as he rose up and 
 straightened himself feebly. 
 
 " Prayers ! " exclaimed Miss Wormley, in a sharp 
 voice. " You had better go into the school -room, and 
 inform the girls that their precious teachers have ab- 
 sconded, and there will be no lessons, or prayers either, 
 till you have laid the matter before the authorities. 
 Even if they should dare attempt to return now 
 
 " Miss Miss Wormley," interrupted the professor, 
 " there is, so far as I can see, no occasion to create 
 anarchy or disorder. I shall of course put the whole 
 matter into the hands of the trustees ; but in the 
 mean time, you will please say nothing to any one upon 
 the subject ; " and with an unusual straightening of 
 the thin figure, causing a surprising number of wrinkles 
 never seen before in the back of the rusty black coat,
 
 KATHERINE EARLE, 303 
 
 the little man walked stiffly out of the room towards 
 the study-hall. 
 
 Regret that he had not despatched some one at once 
 in search of the missing ones grew upon him every 
 moment, especially when the curiosity and excitement 
 among the girls became manifest. The very fact that 
 they had differed so widely upon the questions of the 
 day, and that a coldness had in consequence sprung 
 up between them, made the just little man, who was 
 left in this dilemma to manage affairs, fearful lest he 
 had not done his duty. And at last, when the school 
 had been organized for the day, with an attempt to 
 make a show of going on as usual, he slipped out of 
 the house, and engaged a man to mount a horse and 
 scour the country in the neighborhood of the picnic 
 ground. But of this he said nothing to any one. 
 
 Clary's distress can be imagined, perhaps ; it was 
 beyond the power of description. She dissolved to 
 tears before the omnibuses were gained, and wept 
 from that time forward in a feeble, heart-broken way, 
 with occasional respites of wrath, odd little unexpected 
 bursts of anger, which dried her tears for a time, and 
 perhaps saved her from entire liquefaction. No at- 
 tempt at discipline could affect her conduct in the 
 least. She wandered about, or made a lay figure in 
 the school-room, neither studying nor attending the 
 recitations of her classes, with ability to do nothing 
 but mop her eyes with delicate little lace-edged hand- 
 kerchiefs for grief, even, with Clary, must have its 
 attendant magnificence. Although by no means pro- 
 found in her reasoning on ordinary occasions, she de. 
 veloped now a skill and acuteness in conjoining cir- 
 cumstances, with a boldness in uttering convictions,
 
 304 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 which did much towards fostering and strengthening 
 public opinion in favor of the absent ones, besides 
 stirring up suspicion and girlish outspoken scorn 
 which know neither bounds nor reason against Miss 
 Wormley. Her position was by no means an envi- 
 able one, even before the afternoon, when the despatch 
 from Professor Dyce arrived, falling like a bomb in 
 their midst. " I shall return to La Fayette by the 
 evening train, with Miss Earle, who is now my wife," 
 it read. There was nothing more. 
 
 To say that Professor Payne whose messenger 
 had returned before now from his useless quest re- 
 joiced, would too feebly express it. If anything so 
 dried and stiffened into shape as his countenance 
 could be said to fairly shine and sparkle, this was true 
 of it now. He walked directly into the school-room, 
 stepped upon the platform before Miss Hersey, who 
 was trying to enforce the semblance of a study hour, 
 with the assurance of utter self-forgetfulness, and read 
 the message aloud, ending it with a kind of glorified 
 glare at the girls, conceived as a radiant smile. And 
 they appreciated the act, bless their dear warm hearts, 
 north and south ! For the first time they understood 
 each other. A great shout went up from the whole 
 school. They sprang from their seats, and crowded 
 around the little man, who by this time had retired 
 into his shell again, frightened at himself and them. 
 But they would not be repulsed, and with a little ner- 
 vous laugh, and a trembling quaver in his weak voice, 
 he could only assure them, over and over again, that 
 he really knew nothing but what he had learned from 
 the despatch. Miss Wormley, passing through the 
 school-room, heard the message, felt the shout of joy
 
 KATHERINE EARLE, 305 
 
 like the trembling of the earth under her feet, and 
 crept away to her own room to hide her mortification 
 and rage as best she could. She had failed. . There 
 remained nothing for her but to accept the fact, and 
 try to avert whatever consequences would be likely 
 to fall upon her head. At least they could prove 
 nothing against her. Even Professor Dyce must ac- 
 knowledge that her duty was to return to town with 
 the girls in her charge. If no one was sent after 
 them, for she knew nothing of Professor Payne's at- 
 tempt, it was not her fault alone. Certainly she 
 should not lose her position in the school. If it came 
 to that, public sentiment in the town would sustain 
 her against Professor Dyce. There was but one rule 
 in these days of excited feeling by which any man's 
 conduct was to be measured, and there the professor 
 would fall short. He was a marked man now, she 
 knew. He must go before long, or suffer the conse- 
 quences of remaining. Could she not hasten his de- 
 parture or worse ? She could do nothing. She 
 was a woman, and believed in a woman's circum- 
 scribed sphere ; but a spring touched by the lightest 
 fingers moves mightily sometimes. 
 20
 
 306 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH. 
 
 MISS WORMLEY was the first to greet the pro- 
 fessor and Katey when they descended to break- 
 fast the next morning. She had decided upon her 
 course o action, in which affability and a show of 
 warm interest were to take a prominent part. 
 
 " We were very anxious about you for a time," she 
 said to Professor Dyce. 
 
 The girls, who had gathered around them, waited 
 breathlessly for what would follow. 
 
 " Ah, were you ? " the professor replied, with an 
 odd smile ; " there was no occasion, you see ; " and he 
 passed on to his place. He had no desire for a scene ; 
 he could afford to be generous ; but above all, he did 
 not intend to gratify the curiosity which spoke ill 
 every line of the woman's face. With the exception 
 of Professor Payne and Miss Hersey, no one in the 
 house knew, or should be made to know, of the events 
 of the past two days. Among the girls it came to be 
 believed that they had chosen this abrupt manner of 
 changing their relations to avoid comment, and a pro- 
 longed discussion of the act ; and as everything at 
 once went on as usual, except that Katey resigned her 
 classes, excitement and curiosity soon died out. Pro- 
 fessor Payne's hesitation, and the slow process by
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 307 
 
 which he reached any conclusion, served them well, 
 since he had not yet laid the matter before the trus- 
 tees when the telegraphic message arrived. Something 
 of the story did creep out into the town, where Pro- 
 fessor Dyce was already conspicuous for the suit he 
 had recently gained, as well as for his northern sympa- 
 thies. People wondered that he still pursued his 
 medical studies, and held his position in the school, 
 now that all personal effort for his support was un- 
 necessary. It could only be accounted for upon the 
 ground of eccentricity, to which this strange episode, 
 concerning which various fanciful stories were told, 
 was also attributed. One may do the most unheard-of 
 deeds with tolerable impunity when once the repu- 
 tation for oddity is well established. 
 
 Katey's first act when the professor had left her to 
 attend his classes, the morning after their return, was 
 to write Delphine and Jack of her marriage, reserving 
 all particulars of the event until they should meet. 
 Delphine's reply reached her some days before Jack's, 
 her letter to him having strayed in many directions 
 before finally gaining his camp upon the Potomac. 
 The Estemeres, it seemed, had already returned from 
 the continent, and were in London. They would sail 
 for home, probably, in a fortnight. Mr. Estemere, 
 alarmed at the depredations of the Confederate cruis- 
 ers, believed further delay to be dangerous, and had 
 concluded his business as hastily as possible. 
 
 " MY DEAR KATEY [Delphine wrote] : To think 
 you are married ! I can hardly write for astonish- 
 ment. And you said there were no young men at La 
 Fayette ! I remember something of Mr. Dyce, or I
 
 308 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 have certainly heard of him through the Homes, and 
 congratulate you heartily and him. If it were any 
 one but you, dear, I confess I should be shocked and 
 alarmed ; but you always were the soul of prudence, 
 and have grown to have the coolest little head im- 
 aginable. I dare trust you, Katey, and am prepared 
 to thoroughly like my brother-in-law. Of course you 
 will come to us at once upon our return home." 
 
 Then she went on to speak of their intentions, and 
 change of plan. 
 
 " The soul of prudence ! " thought Katey, laying 
 down the letter. How little Delphine knew of her ! 
 
 Jack's reply came a few days later. The professor 
 brought it in one evening. She was sitting in the 
 president's parlor, which was her parlor now, a little 
 dull, a little not lonely, perhaps, but she missed the 
 noisy girls always invading the corner room in the 
 other building upon the slightest pretext, or quite as 
 often upon none at all, and Clary, who had been her 
 shadow, but whom she saw less frequently now. She 
 missed, too, the cares and duties which had formerly 
 filled all her days, and made every hour of rest and 
 leisure a real delight ; she was not yet wonted to her 
 new life. 
 
 The long room was still bare and uninviting. They 
 had made no attempt to beautify it. " We may go 
 any day," the professor said. So, although a month 
 had elapsed since they came here, her books and pic- 
 tures, gathered hastily from the other house, had never 
 been set in their places, or hung upon the walls. It 
 was like a cheerless caravansary, where they rested 
 for a night, before taking up their pilgrimage again.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 309 
 
 She had been 'alone for an hour. She was often 
 alone now. It was not the dullness of the place, nor 
 of her life, after all, which had so affected her. Many 
 women had been happier with less of luxury or society 
 about them ; she had been happier camping in the open 
 fields ; but there had risen between the husband and 
 wife of so short a time a coldness and reserve to which 
 every day added its stone. Or, more truly, there had 
 been no open confidence between them from the first. 
 Katey was awed, and driven back upon herself, in the 
 parlor of the little farm-house, by the revelation of the 
 professor's passionate love. She had come now almost 
 to doubt her judgment on that day. Certainly nothing 
 could be more grave and undemonstrative than his man- 
 ner towards her since then ; thoughtful, too thoughtful 
 at times of her comfort, since she had grown to look 
 upon his tender care as prompted by duty alone. He 
 had doubtless been disappointed in her they were 
 so nearly strangers to each other, although they had 
 lived so long beneath the same roof; or had it only 
 been pity and generosity, of which she had taken such 
 cruel advantage ? Could she have been so mistaken ? 
 She had tried at the first to be her own natural self, 
 with the result peculiar to a novice in acting a part. 
 She appeared only constrained and self-conscious. All 
 the odd, impulsive ways in which her nature had 
 been used to speak unconsciously, were checked now. 
 Truly there is no one so difficult to copy as one's self. 
 
 She had thought, sitting alone in the church that 
 day, waiting for the professor to come, how she would 
 strive to please him, being, even then, she could see 
 now, proud, as well as sure, of his affection, which in 
 time she would be able, without doubt, to return.
 
 310 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Poor, foolish Katey ! full of fancies and unattainable 
 ideas, blinding her to the present and the real ! And 
 now it was all changed ; even in these few short weeks 
 everything seemed changed. Nothing in the world 
 appeared to her of so much value as his love, and yet 
 she had lost it. How? when? or had it ever been 
 hers ? She could not tell. 
 
 She had moved about restlessly all through the day, 
 unable to put herself to work, with no desire to take 
 up a book. The mood had passed now like a fever 
 turn, and left her quiet, but languid and weak. Pro- 
 fessor Payne had intercepted her husband on his way 
 from tea, and drawn him into the library. He came to 
 the parlor a moment, before going over to the school- 
 room for the evening study hour. The shutters were 
 closed, the gas was lighted, and Katey sat over the 
 fire, her hands folded listlessly in her lap. Her hair 
 was drawn back from her face. Was it this, or the 
 light falling upon it from above, which made it appear 
 paler than it used,. and had laid heavy shadows under 
 the eyes ? 
 
 He stood just within the door, regarding the drooping 
 figure with an expression of anxiety, almost of pain. 
 
 " Do you want anything ? Can I do anything ? " 
 And she rose in a flurried way, becoming aware of his 
 presence at last. 
 
 " I am on my way to the school-room ; perhaps you 
 would like to go." He had hesitated over the sug- 
 gestion, coming forward as he uttered it. 
 
 " No, thank you." And she sat down again ; but 
 now she took some work from the little stand beside 
 her, and began to busy herself over it. 
 
 He leaned against the mantel, looking down upon
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 311 
 
 the bent head and slender, nervous fingers, which 
 trembled a little under his eyes. One of them bore 
 the odd chased ring which had belonged to his moth- 
 er ; it was Katey's wedding ring. He sighed as he 
 turned away to the door again. 
 
 Katey dropped her work when he had gone. She 
 rested her head upon her hand, and fell to dreaming. 
 It might have been an hour, it might have been only 
 a moment, when the door opened, and he appeared 
 again. " Miss Hersey will sit in the school-room to- 
 night," he said when Katey's face expressed her sur- 
 prise. Then he laid a letter upon the table before 
 her. From Jack ! Her listlessness vanished at once. 
 Her eyes shone, her face was all eagerness and delight, 
 as she tore it open. 
 
 It was a very brief letter, indited after Jack's cus- 
 tomary style, which rivalled the proverbs of Solomon 
 in conciseness, but with a boldness of chirography 
 which made up for all deficiencies of material, and 
 spread the few words over the whole sheet. 
 
 " DEAR KATEY [he wrote] : Mail about to close ; so 
 I hasten to send a line. Yours just rec'd. I am as- 
 tonished at you ; expected you would do something 
 unheard-of away off there alone. You never could 
 take care of yourself. [Ah, Jack knew.] I shall come 
 on as soon as I can get a leave of absence, and see 
 Avliat is to be done. In the mean time you must go 
 directly to Josie. [The professor was quite ignored 
 in his calculations.] Shall write her by this mail. 
 She is riot coming to Washington at present, our 
 movements are so uncertain. 
 
 " lu haste, your affec. brother, 
 
 " JACK."
 
 312 KATHERINE 'EARLE. 
 
 Katey laughed as she read the letter, much as she 
 used to laugh long ago, or even a little time ago, be- 
 fore the chill which had checked everything like mer- 
 riment had crept over her. It was so like hot-headed 
 Jack, who evidently believed that his presence alone 
 was necessary to annul the marriage, and make all as 
 it should be ! 
 
 Professor Dyce was lying back in an arm-chair, re- 
 garding her as she read it. The weary expression 
 which was becoming habitual to his face, lifted for a 
 moment at the sound of her laugh. She turned to 
 him, with a little quick, natural movement, holding 
 out the letter. Then she drew it back ; she had dis- 
 covered a postscript. 
 
 " Whom should I meet one day here but Dacre 
 Home," Jack wrote. " He is in the camp adjoining 
 ours. Deserted from the rebels, they say, but is 
 awfully plucky. Won some bars for his sleeve at Big 
 Bethel, where, according to the boys, he tried to throw 
 his life away. It may make a man of him yet. He 
 knows me, of course ; but we never speak." 
 
 Katey read it, her face growing warm. It might, 
 indeed, make a man of him, as Jack said. Poor Chris- 
 tine ! would it add any joy to her life ? 
 
 She held the letter in her hands, hesitating an in- 
 stant before giving it to the professor. She was 
 ashamed, feeling her face so warm ; Dacre Home's 
 name had never been mentioned between them. She 
 was glad, only glad for this hope of his future ; but 
 would the professor understand it ? She almost wished 
 Jack had not written of him. 
 
 The professor saw the blush, marked the momentary 
 hesitation. " It is from Jack," she said, holding it out 
 to him.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 313 
 
 "And what does Jack say?" He spoke in the 
 grave, kind tone to which Katey was so accustomed, 
 but made no movement to take the letter. 
 
 It is very short ; won't you read it ? Only don't 
 mind Jack," she added, hastily, remembering the first 
 part of the letter, which, for the moment, had slipped 
 from her memory. She watched his face, over which 
 an amused smile passed as he read the few lines re- 
 ferring to. their marriage. " He has always taken care 
 of me," she explained, quickly. 
 
 " Yes, I see ; " and he fell into a reverie. 
 
 He had not turned the page. Should she remind 
 him of the postscript, or let it pass ? 
 
 " There is something more upon the other side," 
 she said ; and he took up the sheet again. As his 
 eyes left the last word, they were lifted to hers ; but 
 there was neither doubt nor suspicion in the glance. 
 
 "I am very glad," she said, quietly, meeting his 
 glance without shrinking. " It may do everything for 
 him, as Jack says." Then she bent over her work as 
 she went on, " I know a girl who will rejoice over any 
 good news of him, for she expects to be his wife." 
 
 She hoped he would offer some remark, ask a ques- 
 tion, say anything which would call for some word 
 more definite from her lips in regard to Christine ; but 
 there was only silence in the long, bare room. Out- 
 side a little stir, a faint commotion, had arisen. The 
 evening had turned warm, and though a low fire 
 burned in the grate, she had left her seat, and opened 
 one of the windows. It might be this which had filled 
 the room with a sound as of muffled voices and moving 
 feet, bringing the street strangely near. She checked 
 her fingers, drawing the needle in and out, to listen.
 
 314 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 Everything startled her now ; she was nervous and 
 weak, and easily alarmed by the conflicting reports 
 which each day brought from the seat of war, as well 
 as the strange rumors floating about town of possibili- 
 ties nearer home. A convention, it was whispered, 
 was in secret session even now to vote the state out 
 of the Union. Were they not lingering here too 
 long? 
 
 "Hark! what is that? "as a low, continuous mur- 
 mur, like the repressed voices of a multitude, seemed 
 all at once to fill the room. The professor started to 
 his feet, when, without word or warning, the door was 
 thrown open, and Professor Payne appeared. His face 
 was shrunken and gray with terror. 
 
 "There is a crowd about the house," he gasped, 
 when he could find his voice. "I I greatly fear 
 for you, my friend. But perhaps you might escape 
 now through the garden." 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," said Professor Dyce, laying 
 his hand upon Katey's shoulder. She had fallen back 
 upon her chair white and trembling. There was a 
 strange, resonant ring in his voice, but no quaver of 
 fear. 
 
 " Go, gro," Katey tried to say. 
 
 " It is too late for that," he replied. " If they in- 
 tend to threaten, they have surrounded the house 
 already. But I think you exaggerate the danger." 
 
 The murmur of voices had risen to a shout of 
 " Dyce ! Dyce ! " 
 
 Then Professor Payne rose to the occasion. " I will 
 speak to them," said the little man, moving towards 
 the door. " They know my sentiments." 
 
 Professor Dyce had been hastily fastening the win-
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 315 
 
 dow shutters. He took Katey in his arms as though 
 she had been a child, bore her through the dressing- 
 closet, and laid her upon the bed in the room beyond. 
 Then he returned to the parlor. It was the work of 
 an instant. " Take care of my wife," to Professor 
 Payne, and he was gone. 
 
 He closed the heavy outer door behind him, as he 
 stepped out suddenly in the face of the crowd. The 
 flaring gas-light below him lit up his form and the 
 strong, calm face which betrayed no signs of fear. 
 The unexpected appearance, when they had anticipat- 
 ed flight or resistance, took them by surprise, and in 
 that one moment he had a chance to scan the mob 
 which surged at his feet. It was led, he saw at once, 
 by a bully, as such an assemblage invariably is a 
 great hulking fellow, whom he recognized at once as a 
 man employed about the office of the lawyer who had 
 opposed his claims to the estate he had recently 
 gained. " Ah ! " he said to himself, " it is easy to 
 recognize the lever to this movement; " and he was 
 confident as to the identity of certain shadowy forms 
 hovering upon the outskirts of the crowd ; public dis- 
 turbances serve private ends often and well. For 
 the most part it was made up of the idle and curious, 
 among whom women were plainly discernible ; one, 
 with an old black shawl covering her figure, hid her 
 pallid face and blinking eyes behind a thick veil. 
 
 " Ah, Jim Boles, is that you ? " said the professor, 
 in a cool, almost jocular tone of familiarity, singling 
 out the leader, who had pressed to the front, sur- 
 rounded by a staff of ragged, half-grown boys ; " what 
 do you want ? " 
 
 The man had worked himself to tho point of hero-
 
 316 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 ism. He had even learned a little speech for the oc- 
 casion, in which " liberty " and " the stars and bars," 
 often repeated, were to act a telling part. This ab- 
 rupt, simple question drove it at once from his mind, 
 and seemed to reduce the whole affair to a very ordi- 
 nary occurrence, with no opportunity for sentiment or 
 poetry, in which he secretly delighted. 
 
 " Hang out the flag, d n ye ! " he added, under his 
 breath, making up for his clipped eloquence by an 
 oath, and bringing from under his coat, as he spoke, 
 a small Confederate flag tightly furled, which was to 
 have been waved at a certain point in his speech. 
 The sight of it, the sudden flaming out of its colors 
 before the crowd, whose excitement had fallen to 
 curiosity, might have roused it to frenzy. So much 
 could a bit of bunting do when it represented an idea 
 for which men died ! 
 
 The professor leaned down and took it carelessly. 
 It was like gunpowder, he knew, and the eyes of the 
 people before him were sparks. He rolled it still 
 more closely in his hands, as though unconsciously, 
 while he replied, " And make myself liable to arrest 
 for treason ? You forgot that the United States still 
 holds jurisdiction here. You had better go home and 
 to bed, Jim." 
 
 " You'll have to be up early to take down thrt 
 shutters, you know," added a piping voice in the 
 crowd. 
 
 A laugh rose around the already discomfited leader. 
 One's followers are not always one's friends. " They 
 seem to be just a talkin' pleasant like," one man ex- 
 plained to another, who was too far away to hear. 
 And this ran down through the crowd, which began
 
 KA THERINE EARLE. 317 
 
 slowly to disperse, followed by the laugh, which con- 
 firmed the impression that nothing was to be done, 
 after all. In five minutes the street was deserted, or 
 given up to its usual passers, when a squad of police 
 came up the hill in great apparent haste to inquire 
 into the disturbance. 
 
 " There is no disturbance, gentlemen," Professor 
 Dyce replied. " I can only regret that you should have 
 been annoyed by such a report," he added. But the 
 sergeant blustered and stormed, and insisted upon pla- 
 cing a guard about the house for the night. " As you 
 please," the professor said, coolly, turning to re-enter 
 the door. But what was this figure shrinking back 
 into the deep shadowy doorway ? 
 
 " Katey ! " 
 
 " Don't be angry ; but indeed I could not stay there. 
 It was no fault of his ; j' as poor little Professor Payne, 
 who, true to his trust, would not be left, stepped out 
 from behind her. There was no time to blame or 
 praise, for the whole school, headed by Miss Ilersey, 
 came crowding in from the music-room at that mo- 
 ment, Clary, for once too frightened to cry, having 
 outstripped the others. 
 
 " It is all over ; and indeed there was no cause for 
 alarm," the professor hastened to say, and dismissed 
 them. In those days a man's foes were truly of his 
 <>\vii household, he realized, when more than one pair 
 of flashing eyes and white lips met his glance as the 
 girls turned reluctantly back. 
 
 Miss Wormley appeared in their midst as they wore 
 saying good night. There was an unusual color in 
 her face, and she breathed heavily, like one who had 
 come in great haste. Something like rain-drops
 
 318 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 sparkled upon her gown. Outside a sudden shower 
 had risen a gust of wind and rain, heavy and angry, 
 boating against the windows, and drowning the sound' 
 of their voices. 
 
 " 0, did you know ? " began one of the girls in a 
 shrill tone, recognizing her as a new comer. 
 
 She felt Professor Dyce's keen eyes. In spite of 
 her efforts, the color spread and deepened upon her 
 face. 
 
 " Yes," she replied, hastily ; " it was dreadful was 
 it not ? " 
 
 " 0, very" responded the professor, grimly, forcing 
 her blinking eyes to meet his straightforward glance. 
 " The shower, you mean ? " Then he turned and 
 entered the parlor. She knew that he understood 
 her, that he had fathomed her designs. Ah, well, she 
 thought, then I may work openly. But that night she 
 lost the opportunity forever. 
 
 Professor Payne and Miss Hersey awaited Professor 
 Dyce in his parlor. He closed the door after him, 
 threw himself into the chair he had left so suddenly 
 earlier in the evening, and, resting his forehead upon 
 his hands, seemed lost in thought. 
 
 " What is this, about a convention ? " he asked at 
 last, abruptly, rousing himself. 
 
 Professor Payne looked timidly, fearfully, from one to 
 another of the littlo group. They were all enemies to 
 the cause, he knew. Still a few days, perhaps even 
 hours later, it would be no secret. " It may adjourn 
 to-night," he replied ; and, with a sudden glow upon 
 the faded cheeks, " we shall carry the state." 
 
 " You never toiU." Then Professor Dyce checked 
 himself. Why discuss again the subject which of late
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 319 
 
 had never been broached between them ? " Our time 
 has come," he said to Katey. " We must leave at 
 once." Years afterwards, looking back upon this 
 hour, and the timid little man who had been his 
 steadfast friend, it was comforting to remember that 
 they trusted each other to the last, and, though they 
 went far asunder as the poles, no bitter words passed 
 between them. " And you " to Miss Hersey " will 
 you go with us ? " 
 
 The two women stood holding each other by the 
 hand. Katey tightened her clasp. The color swept 
 over Miss Hersey's face, then it was pale again. 
 
 " My home is here," she said. " No ; I will stay." 
 
 " There is no time to lose," interrupted Professor 
 Payne, nervously ; " even now you may find it difficult 
 to leave town, after what has occurred to-night. Cer- 
 tainly you can take nothing with you. The best plan 
 would be to catch the midnight train north, at Little-' 
 ton, if you could be carried over there." 
 
 And so the matter was finally decided, and Pro- 
 fessor Payne hastened away to secure a conveyance, 
 ostensibly for his own use. 
 
 The moment their conference was broken up, Katey 
 .retired to her bedroom to select a few necessary arti- 
 cles which could be thrust into a hand satchel, and 
 arrange, as best she could, the remainder of her 
 wardrobe and personal effects which were to be left 
 behind. 
 
 She was kneeling upon the floor before a half-filled 
 trunk, confusion and disorder about her, danger per- 
 ]i;i]s ahead, and yet happier than she had been for 
 weeks. They were to take up their wanderings again. 
 Where they were going she had not thought to ask.
 
 320 * KATHERINE EARLh. 
 
 It did not matter. Her hat and cloak were thrown 
 upon a chair near by, ready to put on. A moment 
 more and the professor would come for her. The 
 door opened, and he entered the room. 
 
 " Don't let me disturb you. It is not yet time to 
 start," he said, moving about restlessly as she went 
 on with her work. All at once he paused at a little 
 distance, his arms folded, his gaze upon her. " You 
 have not asked where you are going." 
 
 " No," she answered, brightly ; " I don't care." 
 
 " So that you leave here," he added. " You are 
 right. It was folly to remain so long." 
 
 Why did he speak so sadly ? Katey looked up in 
 haste. Was he ill, that there should have come such 
 a whiteness to his face ? Care and the annoyances of 
 the past few days had worn upon him. He should 
 rest when they were once safely away. 
 
 " I think you had better go immediately to your 
 sister-in-law. Jack wished it," he went on. " And 
 Mrs. Estemere has, perhaps, arrived by this time. I 
 shall take you there myself, and see that you are com- 
 fortably settled. You will be happy with your own 
 friends, and I am glad to feel that you need want for 
 nothing. I am not a poor man now, you know. But 
 I shall arrange all that." 
 
 He spoke hurriedly, almost disconnectedly. Katey 
 only stared, without reply, when he paused. She had 
 not yet gathered the meaning of his words. Of course 
 they should go to Josie, or to Delphine, if she had re- 
 turned. Katey had not considered the subject until 
 now, yet this was the most natural course to take, she 
 knew. But what was this something beneath his 
 Words which shocked and startled her? What was 
 he saying?
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 321 
 
 " I fear it was all a mistake from the beginning. But 
 it is too late to go back to that now." 
 
 His voice sounded hoarse over the last words. His 
 face was turned away. Then he went on in his usual 
 deep, grave tone. 
 
 " / shall go at once to Washington, and apply for a 
 position in the field or in some hospital ; wherever I 
 can hope to be of use." 
 
 " And leave ME ? " She had found her voice at 
 last. The words came like a cry of pain. The pretty 
 white gown she was folding fell out of her hands, as 
 she sprang from the floor. " 0, you wouldn't do that. 
 I should never be a care to you," she pleaded, hurried- 
 ly, forgetting her fears, her pride, everything but this 
 terrible vision of a dark possible future. " I would 
 go anywhere, do anything ; I am not afraid of hard- 
 ships ; only take me. I can't be left behind," she 
 cried. " Other women follow their husbands ; why 
 should not I ? I know I am not very nice, but " 
 
 " Child ! what do you mean ? " He seized her 
 almost roughly, and held her off for an instant while 
 he read the pale face with its trembling lines of pain 
 and terror. Then he took her in his arms. " We do 
 not deserve happiness," he said, solemnly, " since we 
 have almost let it slip out of our hands." 
 
 " And you are not nice ? " he added, presently. He 
 laughed a low, happy laugh. " Ah, well, I will try to 
 be resigned." 
 
 21
 
 322 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MAEEIAGE BELLS. 
 
 is a blaze of light in Delphine's city home, 
 J- as though a summer day had Awakened, night 
 though it is, with its arms full of flowers. They 
 trail, and blossom, and peep over arch and door- 
 way ; they hang from picture and chandelier ; they 
 blush and nestle, and give out their sweet perfume 
 everywhere. The Estemeres have returned, and to- 
 night they entertain their friends in honor of Katey's 
 marriage and Jack's coming home. For Jack has 
 won a short leave of absence at last, though he has re- 
 signed all thought of arranging Katey's affairs anew. 
 
 " You never could take care of yourself/' he said, 
 when he appeared unexpectedly to them all one day, 
 and had released Katey from his bearish, brotherly 
 embrace. 
 
 " I know," she replied, " and so what could I do 
 but allow some one else that troublesome privilege ! " 
 and she presented her husband. Jack gave him one 
 keen glance from his handsome eyes as the professor 
 came forward, by no means abashed by this encounter, 
 with a laugh on his lips over Katey's characteristic 
 speech, and the hatchet which Jack had been bran- 
 dishing over Katey's captor all the way from the 
 banks of the Potomac was buried on the spot.
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 323 
 
 In one of the upper rooms of the house Katey is 
 putting the last touches to her toilet for the evening. 
 Happy Katey ! who feels that she has nothing more 
 to desire, and is almost frightened at the great joy 
 which has come to her. She sweeps down the long 
 room like a queen in her trailing robes, white and 
 shimmering. There are orange flowers in her hair, 
 and a veil of soft lace, caught at her shoulders, falls 
 away from her pretty bare arms. She recalls her 
 wedding day and the dusty, torn, gray gown, and 
 smiles over the remembrance. She will always pre- 
 serve it, to the day of her death ; and yet it is pleasant 
 to be a bride, and wear a wedding gown, she thinks to- 
 night. But she forgets it all when she kneels upon 
 the hearth-rug before the professor. 
 
 " And so you always remembered me ? " she says, 
 dreamily, her eyes upon the fire, taking up the con- 
 versation interrupted a moment before. 
 
 "" Yes ; from the night at the party, when you came 
 running up the stairs in that odd flowered gown, with 
 my crutch in your hand. I used to fancy, when I was 
 abroad, years afterwards, that I would come home arid 
 find you out some day. I had learned your name, 
 you know." 
 
 " But you never told me at La Fayette that we had 
 met before. Perhaps you had forgotten." 
 
 " By no means ; on the contrary, I recognized your 
 name at once, and flatter myself that my influence 
 helped to turn the scale in your favor against the 
 many applicants for the place you sought in the 
 school. You can imagine, perhaps, my curiosity in 
 regard to you ; you know the surprise and consterna- 
 tion the sight of you at first awakened, for I did not
 
 324 KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 hear your name at all that evening at Mrs. Durant's, 
 and never for a moment suspected that you were the 
 Miss Earle I was on my way to La Fayette to meet. 
 The double surprise after having seen you masquer- 
 ading at the Junction was almost overpowering. 
 You were a fascinating problem in those few first 
 weeks a dangerous one, I found later." 
 
 " And no problem at all, finally," Katey added, with 
 a soft little laugh. 
 
 " No ; but something infinitely better. One does 
 not care to take an enigma for a wife. There are cer- 
 tain dangerous possibilities in the solution. But I 
 had almost forgotten ; " and he put a letter into her 
 hand. 
 
 " From Mina Hauser ! " There was a flutter of 
 cards tied with white ribbons, as Katey opened the 
 envelope. " So Mina and Hans are married at last ! " 
 she exclaimed, joyously ; " but what is this ? " and she 
 drew out a little note, not in Mina's round hand. It 
 was from Christine, and as she read, Katey's face 
 grew warm and strangely bright. It was written in 
 the hospital, Camp Fairfax, Virginia, and a few lines 
 will suffice to quote here. " I know it all," Christine 
 wrote ; " Caere has told me while I sat here holding 
 his hand; and we are to be married to-morrow. I 
 wanted to write you now, before I slept. Dear Katey, 
 how can I ever bless you enough ? He wished me to 
 write. He believes you will be glad to know. He 
 has been very near death ; but now he will live, the 
 doctor says. 0, you don't know what that means to 
 me. He has won his shoulder-straps, and when he is 
 able to return to camp, I am to go with him. I am 
 never to leave him again. And Mina is married and
 
 KATHERINE EARLE. 325 
 
 happy, and father and Wulf are well ; but no one is so 
 happy as I, dear Katey. I laugh and sing, but more 
 often I cry. To laugh is not enough. It seems as 
 though one must shed tears over such great joy." 
 
 " So it has all come right at last," Katey says, softly, 
 when the professor has put the letter again into her 
 hands. " Not in my way ; but God's ways are better 
 than ours." 
 
 She rests her cheek against his knee, thoughtful 
 and still. The little French clock upon the mantel 
 marks the passing moments, with faint subdued ticks 
 like heart-beats. 
 
 " Please salute the bride," she says, presently, rais- 
 ing the broad, smooth forehead, with its coronet of dark 
 hair ; " they always salute the bride, you know." 
 
 He takes the sweet, grave face between his hands, 
 and kisses her lips. 
 
 " And they offer good wishes," she adds. 
 
 " God bless you, my wife 1 "
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF KATHERINE EARLE. 
 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL ABROAD. 
 
 BY ADELINE TRAFTON. 
 
 1 Volume. 16mo. Illustrated. Price, $1.50. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 . . . " We do not remember when we have enjoyed so rich a treat as this affords." 
 Christian Weekly, New York. 
 
 . . . '.' Altogether, it is the most entertaining book of the kind that has come to 
 hand since Mark Twain gave the world the benefit of his 'Innocents Abroad."' 
 Hearth and Home, New York. 
 
 . . . " To say that this young authoress has given us an entertaining book of 
 foreign travel, would be to award but scant praise to the wit, humor, and keen appreci- 
 ation of all that she encounters, which overflow her chapters with fresh and sparkling 
 conceits." Republican, New York. 
 
 . . . "We can assure the reader that this book of travels will be delightful reading. 
 One feels as though he were in the society of a gay, witty, quick-eyed girl, full of 
 frolic, enjoying dearly a joke, even at herself." Courier-Journal, Louisvill*. 
 
 . . . "A bright, merry-hearted giil, ' off on a good time ;' and she and her readers 
 are decidedly of the opinion that the journey was a grand success. One very seldom 
 meets with so graphically amusing an account of a sea voyage as that found in the first 
 chapter." Liberal Christian, New York. 
 
 . . . " A narrative of a tour of Europe, written in a piquant, charming, and witty 
 style. The writer is so vivacious and genial as to insure universal approbation. As a 
 book of travel it is unexceptional." Gazette, Louisville. 
 
 . . . "A more sprightly and graphic book of travels abroad one does not often 
 read. It has an originality all its own, that makes it uncommonly fascinating. Open 
 it where you will, the piece attracts and holds you attracted." S. S. Times, Phiia. 
 
 . . . "Miss Trafton never forgets her nationality; is not overawed by the glitter 
 of wealth and show. There are no girlish sentimentalisms, no rhapsodies over French 
 fineries, no adoration of royal grandeur ; neither is there any of the prudishness or 
 stilted essayisms of the strong-minded woman of the period. It is the free, untram- 
 melled, pure-hearted girl, that takes you into a sweet confidence, and tells her story 
 just as a noble, sensible girl should and would. She captivates you, and carries you 
 along with unabated enthusiasm." Literary World, Boston. 
 
 LEE & SHEPAED, Publishers, Boston, 
 
 LEE, SHEPAED &, DILLINGHAM, New York.
 
 " The Old Kentucky Home? 
 
 LORD OF HIMSELF. 
 
 A Novel. 
 
 BY FRANCIS H. UNDERWOOD. 
 
 Oa9 Volume. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75. 
 
 . . . "A well-written and thoroughly interesting novel." Daily Graphic, 
 New York. 
 
 . . . "Adds to its attractiveness, as a novel, the charm of elevated sentiment, 
 expressed in elegant and forcible English." Globe, Boston. 
 
 . . . " A story of life in Kentucky some twenty or thirty years ago, and as a 
 picture of the life of that epoch, this book possesses great merit It is faithful, vivid, 
 and spirited, without being overdone." Tribune, New York. 
 
 . . . " It may be said of ' Lord of Himself,' that it is a good story. After the 
 reader has gone a few pages into it, he is curious to know what is to happen in the last 
 chapter. It is also a full story. There is not a chapter in it which is not worth 
 reading. . . . Mr. Underwood has entertained and instructed us. He has given 
 us some admirable pictures of particular people, and a very life-like representation of 
 a society and a period." New York Evening Post. 
 
 . . . " The scene of the story changes only temporarily from the neighborhood 
 of Beech Knoll, but the author finds there abundant variety of character and incident 
 to enrich the story. And of the studies of character, it ought to be said that they are 
 excellent Uncle Ralph Beauchamp, the Fleemister family, Howard, the New Eng- 
 lander, Adams, the Hoosier lawyer, the Wyndham family, and Miss Shelburn and the 
 slaves, are all careful studies in character delineation, distinctly individualized, natural 
 in action, and neither in faults nor virtues beyond the reasonable capacity of human 
 beings. Their relations to each other are distinctly defined, and they severally act 
 their parts as if inspired by their own proper motives." Boston Daily Advertiser. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 LEE, SHEPAED & DILLINGHAM, New Tork.
 
 H 
 
 By the 
 
 Author 
 
 of 
 
 "IN 
 
 TRUST? 
 
 O M E NOOK 
 
 Or, The Crown of Duty. 
 
 BY Miss A. M. DOUGLAS. 
 
 m 
 9 
 
 AUTHOR OF "STEPHEN DANE," SVDNIE ADRIANCB," "CLAUDIH," "KATHIB 
 STORIES," &C, &C. 
 
 Oae Volume. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 . "A charming picture of home life." Pres&yteriart Banner, Pittsburg. 
 
 . "The book is a charming love story." Christian Era, Boston. 
 
 . "Designed to inculcate high moral lessons." Daily Union, Schenectady. 
 . . . "Miss Douglas is rapidly winning fame as a pleasing, conscientious wri- 
 ter." Courier, New Haven. 
 
 ..." Freighted with good thoughts, and well ballasted with good sense." 
 Maine Standard, An. 
 
 . . . ''It has a charm, however, peculiar to itself in the perfect simplicity with 
 which it is told." The Spy, Worcester. 
 
 . . . "Of many story-tellers, few have handled their subject with such delicate 
 feeling and good sense. " Loomis Journal, New Haven. 
 
 . . . "We cannot omit to express our high appreciation of the literary character 
 of the work, and the moral lesson which it so forcibly inculcates." The Alethodat, 
 New York. 
 
 . . . "A hearty, healthy story. The atmosphere of the bookis clear, and in 
 reading it you enlarge your circle of pleasant friends." Courier. Boston. 
 
 . . . "An interesting story of home life, not wanting in incident, and written 
 in a forcible and attractive style. Miss Douglas's previous novels have been very 
 popular. " t-Graph . 'c, New York. 
 
 . . . " All her works are very agreeable, but her last effort surpasses its prede- 
 cessors in the strength and force of her characters, and the breadth and finish of style." 
 Item, Philadelphia. 
 
 . . . " To those who already know Miss Douglas's power of investing her 
 characters with individual life and personality, it is not necessary to say that this is 
 a book of no ordinary excellence in this respect" Tribune, Detroit. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 LEE, SHEPAED &, DILLINGHAM, New York.
 
 By the " Learned Blacksmith' 
 
 TEN MINUTE TALKS 
 
 On all Sorts of Topics. 
 
 BY ELIHU BURRITT. 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN AUTO-BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 One Volume. 12mo. Price, $2.25. 
 
 . . . "The book is as varied, fresh, and inviting as one could wish." The 
 Herald, Utica, N. Y. 
 
 . . . "Mr. Burritt's writings are strongly marked by the vigor of his character, 
 and contain a great amount of careful thought and happy illustration." Inter-Ocean, 
 Chicago. 
 
 . . . "These essays form a book full of very pleasant reading, and of a certain 
 earnest eloquence and thought exceedingly attractive to the reader." The Post, 
 Hartford. 
 
 . . . "The present volume is a peculiarly welcome one on many accounts. The 
 Autobiography alone would make the book popular." Hearth and Home, New York. 
 
 . . . "The ' learned blacksmith ' has forged many a fine thought and sentence 
 to be found in the present work." The Bulletin, Norwich. 
 
 . . . "The writings in this voluume will be read with interest both from their 
 intrinsic value and the character of their author. They are mostly plain, direct, un- 
 affected statements on subjects of general importance. They show the ability of the 
 thinker as well as the cultivation of the scholar. Wise in suggestion, fertile in illustra- 
 tion, and happy, often pungent, in expression, they afford a favorable specimen of the 
 contributions of a blacksmith to the literature of the country." The Tribune, 
 New York. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 LEE, SHEPAKD &, DILLINGHAM, New York.
 
 Mr. Candle Speaks. 
 
 FIRESIDE SAINTS 
 
 Mr. Caudle's Breakfast Talk, 
 
 AND OTtiER PAPERS. 
 COMPILED BY J. E. BABSON. 
 
 too Vol. 16mo. Uniform with " Wishing-Cap Papers." Price, $1.50. 
 
 . . "An array of Douglas Jerrold's irony, sarcasm, wit, and humor, that will 
 be welcome to his admirers. " Commercial Bulletin, Boston. 
 
 . . . "It is singular that so large a number of such delightful papers, by that 
 most genial jester, Douglas Jerrold, should have lain so long unbound." The Times, 
 Chicago. 
 
 ... "The sketches in this book are quite diverse in character, but all made 
 pleasant by that subtle vein of humor, that quaint fancy, and that easy and graceful 
 style, which lent such a charm to all of Douglas Jerrold's works." Golden Age, 
 New York. 
 
 . . . "None of the papers in this volume are included in the collected works 
 of the author, and will therefore be read with keen delight." Advertiser, Portland. 
 
 . . . "These essays, though many of them so brief and light as to be prop- 
 erly denominated thumb-nail sketches, merit preservation with the other writings of 
 this spicy and pungent author. " Post, Chicago. 
 
 ..." Everybody knows Douglas Jerrold he of the caustic humor and biting 
 wit ; he who could write as sweetly and sunny as the most genial, and at the same 
 time could wield the arrows of satire as could no other English writer. " Keystone, 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 LEE, SHEPABD &- DILLINGHAM, New York.
 
 "A Charming Romance of Girlhood' 
 
 SEVEN DAUGHTERS 
 
 BY Miss A. M. DOUGLAS. 
 
 MTTHOR OF "STEPHEN DANE," SYDNIE ADRIANCE," "CLAUDIA," "KATHIB 
 STORIES," &c, &c. 
 
 CBS VoL Ifao. nhrtrated. Price, $1.50. 
 
 . . . "The spirit of the book is admirable." Transcript, Portland. 
 
 . . . "A natural, vivacious, pure story, one of Miss Douglas's best efforts." 
 Methodist, N. Y. 
 
 . . . "We can heartily commend it as unexceptional in its teachings and 
 tendencies." The Christian World, N. Y. 
 
 . . . "A very charming and lively book, the sale of which win be large, for 
 it deserves it." The Standard, Syracuse. 
 
 . . . "The book is bright, fresh, and unhackneyed, and gives some pleasant 
 domestic pictures." Advance, Chicago. 
 
 . . . "No one who reads faithfully to the end, can help being won by the 
 easy naturalness with which the story is told." Commercial Bulletin, Boston, 
 
 . . . "This story is one of the truest pictures of home life, as it should be, 
 that we have ever read." Christian Era, Boston. 
 
 ' . " Of our modern writers of fiction we know of none whose purpose is 
 purer, or whose books can be more confidently submitted to young girls, than Miss 
 Douglas's." Boston Journal. 
 
 ' "Very fresh and pleasant reading, with touches of gentle satire and 
 quiet humor." Christian Intelligencer, N. Y. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 LEE, SHEPABD &, DILLTNGHAM, New York.
 
 " The most Fascinating Novel of tJie Day'' 
 
 THE ITALIAN GIRL 
 
 By Irs. KATHEEUE SEDGWHX WASHBUEI. 
 
 
 
 A Kov Edition read? to-day. Price, $1.60. An Bootenon hire it 
 
 THE ITALIAN GIRL 
 
 HEROINE is an Italian Girl whose romantic experiences are very interesting. 
 Pitt. Ch'n. 
 
 ^MINENTLY a love story teaching a good lesson. Portland Press. 
 
 INTENSELY dramatic and exciting. ff. B. Mercury. 
 
 I HE vivid colors in which characters are painted, will attract. Solent Gasettt. 
 J^ FASCINATING and weD-written story. Portland Argus. 
 J^IVELY, fresh, and vivid. Provident* Journal. 
 TT abounds in vigorou* picttires of Italian life. Boston Transcript, 
 
 VERY well-written story, romantic yet probable. Philadelphia Press. 
 ^TOVEL of rare literary and artistic merit Suffolk County Journal. 
 
 GOOD, especially good, is the part which treats of her debut on the stage. 
 Palladium. 
 
 IT cannot be said to be dull, whatever may be said for or against it Newport 
 :.'.:. 
 
 RECOMMEND it as a work which cannot fail to interest and charm them. 
 Boston Gazette. 
 
 LOVERS of art and Italy will read with keen interest this fresh story. Bos- 
 ton Traveller. 
 
 "THE ITALIAN GIRL, by Mrs. Katherine Sedgwick Washbum, is a brilliant and 
 charming love story. We cordially recommend it to our readers as a work that cannot 
 fail to interest and charm them, not only by the clearness of the story, but by the 
 sparkling and artstic manner in which it is treated" Boston Gasette. 
 
 LEE A SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 LEE, SHEPARD &, DILLINGHAM, New York.