VERNON GROVE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 HEARTS AS THEY ARE 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, 310 BROADWAY. 
 M DCCCLIX.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1858, by 
 EUDD & CABLETON, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 E. OEAIGHBAD, 
 
 Printer, Stereotype!-, and Electrol 
 
 Carton Duilbing, 
 
 81, 83, and 85 Centre Street.
 
 J. R. THOMPSON, 
 
 THE ATTRACTIVE POET AND ADMIRED PROSE WRITER, 
 
 Who, from his own 
 GARDEN OF BEAUTIFUL CREATIONS, 
 
 Looked kindly upon 
 VERNON GROVE, A SIMPLE WAY-SIDE FLOWER, 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 Is gratefully Dedicated. 

 
 VERNON GROVE: 
 
 OR, 
 
 HEARTS AS THEY ARE. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! 
 Bright and yellow, and hard, and cold, 
 Molten, graven, hammered, and roll'd, 
 Heavy to get and light to hold ; 
 Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold, 
 Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled 
 To the very verge of the church-yard mould 1 
 Price of many a crime untold; 
 Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!" HOOD. 
 
 " Is she not passing fair ?" SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 ROBERT CLAYTON had but two passions in existence, 
 two all engrossing impulses, love of money and love for 
 his wife : into these all minor feelings merged ; tliey 
 were the broad vast ocean, the hungry, absorbing reser- 
 voir, while friendship, religion, joy, despair, hope, all that 
 commonly affect mortals, were simply streams running 
 towards that ocean in which they were lost ; thus, to
 
 8 Vernon Grove. 
 
 glance from his gold into the bright and beautiful eyes 
 of his wife, to seem to others but a hard, gain-loving 
 man, and yet to her a fond and passionately attached 
 husband, was aim and end enough for him while he ran 
 the race for wealth and won it. 
 
 Let us look at him. 
 
 He has closed his door and his head is bent, while 
 with pen in hand he draws mystic numbers, which to 
 you or me are simply numbers, but to him a calculation 
 involving the gain of many dollars, and he is alone. 
 
 There is no need to reiterate his command that while 
 in that room, in no way resembling the others in his 
 mansion, that cheerless, uncurtained room, in which are 
 only papers, and maps, and a few books of reference 
 upon the table, he may remain undisturbed, for the ser- 
 vants are too well trained to disobey an order once 
 given, and in that lordly homestead there are no patter- 
 ing feet of children to break the stillness, no fond child- 
 ish cry of " father," no silvery tinkling laughter. 
 
 All is hushed ! the man bending there over his fast- 
 increasing black hieroglyphics, need fear no such intru- 
 sion and the calculation goes on bravely and well, while 
 the look of interest becomes deeper and deeper ; but at 
 last, even while the calculator has unclosed his nervous 
 fingers and grasped the empty air as though he were 
 clutching a golden prize, some one has dared with sacri- 
 legious tread to cross the threshold, to open the door 
 of that sacred retreat boldly, and to stand unawed 
 before the absorbed inmate, with smiling face, all careless 
 of the mysteries within. 
 
 As the door swung open, a frown betokening anger 
 passed over the brow of the slave of business, and he
 
 Vernon Grove. 9 
 
 laid down his pen with a gesture of impatience, but soon 
 a smile, like the play of lightning over a gloomy sky, lit 
 up his heavy face as he turned it towards the intruder. 
 
 How dazzling she was in the pride of her radiant love- 
 liness ! Nature had given her beauty, and art had 
 brightened it, as a setting adorns a gem ! 
 
 He drew her fondly towards him, baptising her, as it 
 were, with a multitude of new and tender names, laid 
 her little gloved hand in his own and looked almost 
 incredulously upon it, as though it was the hand of a 
 fairy, and not one which was his, his only ; smoothed into 
 place a truant wave of hair, praised her lips, her eyes, 
 nay even with almost womanly interest her dress, from 
 the fuschias which hung upon their trembling stems 
 about her face, on through all the minutiae of her taste- 
 ful toilet, and then telling her playfully that he knew 
 why she had ventured into his den, pressed upon her a 
 handful of glittering gold. 
 
 But no, she came not for that, nor did she need it ; 
 she came only to bid good bye, good bye for a few 
 hours; he might have missed her otherwise, she said 
 smiling, as she looked up into his eyes as a star looks 
 down upon an avid desert. 
 
 The hard face brightened ; a face which had often 
 turned coldly away from pleading poverty or the sick 
 man's prayer. The good bye was fondly, lingeringly said, 
 the bright beautiful form passed from the room and left 
 it in comparative darkness, the heavy, absorbed look 
 returned to the face of the calculator, while she, for 
 whom it had brightened, passed on with light step 
 through the winding passages, out into the noble corri- 
 dor, along the line of pictures which graced her luxuri- 
 1*
 
 io Vernon Grove. 
 
 ous home, then into the sunlight without, which played 
 about her as over some bright-feathered bird, and to the 
 carriage which awaited her at the door. 
 
 "Drive quickly," she said in a tone which seemed 
 accustomed to command, " or we shall be too late for 
 the Exhibition, but first to my brother's." 
 
 The coachman obeyed, and the elegant equipage 
 rolled noiselessly along the streets, attracting the atten- 
 tion of many a pedestrian by the perfect keeping of the 
 whole; the silver mountings shone brilliantly in the 
 sunshine, the dark green panels reflected the lights and 
 shadows on their polished surfaces, and the steeds had 
 that proud, almost conscious air, which betokens blood, 
 and though spirited, were managed by their skilful 
 driver with no unpractised hand. 
 
 " Happy lady," laughed a child of poverty, who with 
 bare feet was pattering along the dusty highway, as she 
 caught a glimpse of the coach and its occupant. 
 
 "Happy lady," echoed a weary toil-worn man, "what 
 prevents her from being contented ? God knows that to 
 me riches would bring happiness." 
 
 " Happier child and laborer," said the invisible spirits 
 of the air, "for you life has some object; your sleep is 
 sweet ; ye labor lor an end ; for her the only end is 
 pleasure, and pleasure brings not peace." 
 
 The carriage stopped before a fine mansion, which in 
 spite of its grandeur and perfect proportions was a 
 gloomy one, for the closed windows almost betokened 
 that it was uninhabited ; but Isabel Clayton seemed at 
 home there, as opening the door and shutting it again 
 noiselessly, and then ascending the stairs, she knocked 
 gently at the door of a chamber.
 
 Vernon Grove. 1 1 
 
 It was carefully unfastened from within, and a phy- 
 sician stood before her, who bowed and raised his finger 
 warningly, as if commanding silence, and pointed 
 towards the room which he had just left. 
 
 " Is the crisis passed ?" she whispered somewhat 
 anxiously, " is my brother out of danger ?" 
 
 " Yes," was the answer, " I am happy to say that the 
 crisis is past, and that I can pronounce my patient cured 
 at least of his fever, but" 
 
 The lady's little foot tapped the floor impatiently. 
 " Your pardon, Dr. Bailey ; let me beseech you to onat 
 for once that ominous but ; I really believe that that 
 word is as necessary now to a physician as a gold-headed 
 cane was in the olden time ; it betokens all things, that 
 your patient may live or die, that you mean to cure or 
 kill him." 
 
 The doctor knit his brow as if doubting whether to 
 endure so rude a speech, even from such rich rosy lips, 
 but his time was so valuable that he simply vented his 
 indignation in a quick impatient growl, and forthwith 
 informed the visitor of her brother's condition. 
 
 " I was about to say, madam," he continued, " that 
 Mr. Vernon no longer nacded my services, but that the 
 fever has left him totally blind." 
 
 ''Blind! Merciful heaven!" said the lady, with a 
 shudder ; " that, indeed, is a misfortune ; w r hat will he 
 do, think you, with his beautiful pictures, his statuary, 
 his library, now that he can no longer enjoy them ? But 
 I am trespassing upon your time when I can learn all 
 from his own lips. I can see him, may I not ?" 
 
 " I suppose so, yes, of course," said the physician 
 rather doubtfully, hesitating as to the expediency of
 
 12 Vernon Grove. 
 
 admitting even a sister to his patient's room, " but as 
 you value his well-being, do not broach any agitating 
 subjects, and above all, do not make a long stay." 
 
 This last warning was not needed; he might have 
 spared himself the trouble of adding it. 
 
 The door opened once more and admitted Isabel 
 Clayton to her brother's chamber, shaded almost to 
 entire darkness by the heavy curtains and closed 
 blinds. 
 
 " You are better at last, Richard," she said, taking 
 one of his hands which was white and thin from long 
 confinement, " the doctor has just told me so ; need I 
 tell you how rejoiced I am to hear it ?" 
 
 " Thank you, Isabel ; I hope that you have enjoyed 
 your little pleasure trip ; I am glad to see you here ; no, 
 I forget ; I mean that I am glad to hear the sound of 
 your voice ; I suppose that Dr. Bailey has told you all, 
 and that it is as superfluous as it would be painful for 
 me to repeat it." 
 
 " Yes, it is very, very dreadful !" 
 
 " Only dreadful, Isabel?" he exclaimed, starting up 
 and then sinking back upon the pillow with a sigh of 
 exhaustion, " that is a calm, old, meaningless word to 
 express such an affliction as mine ; why, a stormy day is 
 simply dreadful, a headache dreadful, why not have 
 said the truth at once, that my life will be utterly use- 
 less, really not worth the having !" 
 
 " Hush, Richard," said his sister, half frightened at 
 his despairing mood and fierce reckless words, "you 
 must look upon the other side of the picture ; there is 
 always a bright side you know" (it was a new thing for 
 Isabel Clayton to moralize) ; " let me see ; friends will
 
 Vernon Grove. 13 
 
 flock around you, of course, and the same hand that has 
 closed your eyes to the beauties of life, has closed them 
 likewise, you must remember, to all that is repulsive. 
 If I had only time to think, I might enumerate many 
 comforts which are still left you ; but I have an engage- 
 ment this morning which I must go to fulfil." 
 
 " What, so soon ?" 
 
 " Now, Richard, any one hearing your querulous tone 
 would think that I had been at your bed-side but one 
 minute, when I can assure you that thirty minutes have 
 elapsed since I entered; take care of yourself ; I will 
 come again soon, daily, until you are better, and now 
 good bye until to-morrow." 
 
 The sick man groaned aloud as she left the room. 
 " This is the beginning," he said, " always and to every 
 one a burden ; if she, my sister, of whom I might have 
 expected at least a semblance of interest, leaves me here 
 desolate in a solitude which is almost madness, what am 
 I to hope from others ? Great heaven ! this is indeed 
 a trial beyond endurance! It would be a mercy to 
 take my worthless life, and I would yield it up cheer- 
 fully since the light in it is darkened for ever." 
 
 It was well that the prayer of that despairing heart 
 was not regarded. God was merciful in another Avay, 
 and spared his life, perhaps for greater suffering and 
 trial to prepare him better for the mysterious change 
 which he coveted, perhaps for some more than com- 
 pensating joy.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Blind to the bright blue sky, the glorious sun, 
 
 The mild pale moon, the vesper star's sweet blaze ; 
 Blind to the soft green fields where brooklets run, 
 
 The hills where linger sunset's parting rays. 
 Blind to the bright eye's most exprassive beam, 
 
 The cheek's rich dyes of beauty, and the form 
 Whose symmetry might gild the sculptor's dream 
 
 Of young Apollo, and his fancy warm." 
 
 IT was but too true. Richard Vernon was hopelessly, 
 irrevocably blind. Weary of the world too he became, 
 for his was not a spirit to sit with folded arms under its 
 affliction, but like a caged lion to chafe against the bars 
 which held it prisoner. Born in a luxurious city, proud, 
 passionate, wealthy, his misfortune, when it came to him 
 after a terrible illness, in which he hovered for days 
 between life and death, made him suspicious, cold, and 
 reserved. It was a double misfortune to him, who had 
 educated his whole nature to the worship of beauty, 
 seeking it in the minutest shell or flower, in the eyes of 
 an unconscious infant as well as on the brow of a sculp- 
 tured Titan, to feel himself stranded on a shore of dark- 
 ness, where an eternal gloom took the place of the 
 midnight stars, and a boundless blank replaced the 
 smiling sunshine of the morn with only the memory of 
 the beautiful to cheer him. His very wealth became at 
 times a source of annoyance to him, for, from his
 
 Vernon Grove. 15 
 
 gloomy brooding heart came thoughts of mistrust 
 against those who had loved him when he could be of 
 and among them, to pamper their tastes, and, who now 
 sought from others the entertainment which he could 
 not give. The gay crowd, indeed, among whom he had 
 lived, wondered for a season, condoled and pitied, and 
 even occasionally spared an hour from their pursuit of 
 pleasure to cheer the lonely man in his solitary, darkened 
 room ; but Vernon felt, with the apathy of a man of the 
 world, that the beauty, interest, and glory of life had 
 departed, and that his dim apartment was no place for 
 the butterflies of Fashion to fold their gaudy wings, and 
 he soon wearied of visits which he knew were mere out- 
 ward forms of conventional ceremony. 
 
 His sister, his only relative, gave him, it is true, what 
 sympathy she could spare, and with her soft jewelled 
 hand in his, told him of the outer life which he had been 
 compelled to relinquish, sometimes of a new ball-room 
 melody, to which, while she sang, she kept time with 
 her restless feet, or of some new work of art in vogue, 
 but even in her softly modulated voice he could detect 
 a scarcely disguised desire to be in the sunshine once 
 more, and freed from his querulous repinings. He re- 
 membered, too, what she was to that outer world, and 
 how unconsciously to her the adulation that she met 
 with there, together with the blind devotion of an 
 indulgent husband, helped to foster her faults of cha- 
 racter, the chief of which were thoughtlessness and 
 selfishness. 
 
 But Vernon had one link still bright and untarnished, 
 which kept him from total despair. 
 
 It is a truth that cannot be doubted, because so often
 
 16 Vernon Grove. 
 
 proved, that more powerful, more self-abnegating friend- 
 ships exist between men than between women j indeed, 
 among the latter there is often a frivolous semblance of 
 friendship which the faintest breath of the world may 
 dissolve, but when man grasps the hand of his brother 
 man, either with open words and promises of truth, or a 
 silent vow, almost the more powerful because unheard, 
 unuttered, the bond cannot be broken, no strength can 
 overcome the faithful grasp, no shock can sever the 
 union. Voices around may whisper of unworthiness, 
 the stronger is the tie ; misfortunes may come, poverty, 
 sickness, desolation, and the clasp is still firm and sure 
 unto death. 
 
 Happily for Vernon, though so isolated, he had found 
 such a friend in Albert Lin wood, a young artist of great 
 promise, who, though several years his junior, would 
 steal away from an unfinished picture in his studio, to 
 converse with or read to him from the books which lie 
 loved best ; and many an hour, which spent otherwise, 
 might have helped him on to fame, found him with Vernon, 
 whose rebellious spirit was always calmer for his coming. 
 
 It was in one of these visits that Albert remonstrated 
 with him upon the objectless life he was leading. 
 
 " Are you not weary," he said, " of these everlasting 
 city surroundings ? Would you not be happier, better, 
 where the sounds are less harsh, and where you can feel 
 that there are broader glimpses of the blue sky ?" 
 
 "That w T ord happiness," replied Vernon moodily, 
 " has long since been blotted out of my vocabulary." 
 
 " And yet, if you will listen for a moment," replied 
 Albert, " perhaps you would feel a sensation akin to it ; 
 for I might arouse you into something like action.
 
 Vernon Grove. iy 
 
 Leave the city for a while and take up your abode in 
 some pretty rural place ; the change would benefit you, 
 I know, and you would soon realize the truism that God 
 especially made the country; you will stagnate body 
 and soul here." 
 
 Vernon interrupted his friend with a gesture of im- 
 patience. 
 
 " You seem to be leagued with the rest, Linwood, in 
 trying to deprive me of even the few remaining plea- 
 sures which I have left ; do you not see that I need 
 some excitement to bear me up? Just consider my 
 lonely position in such a place; I would scarcely ask 
 you to relinquish your advantages here to come and 
 cheer me, Isabel would pine away and die in such a 
 solitude, and other friends I care not to have. No, let me 
 remain where I can at least hear an echo from the world 
 which I used to enjoy so much; even in a reflected 
 rainbow there are some gleams of beauty you know." 
 
 "And yet, here you are wretched," answered Lin- 
 wood, earnestly, " all your fine qualities are beclouded, 
 you are growing misanthropic and dreamy, and need a 
 change. Trust me, Yernon, and listen to me ; rouse 
 yourself from this apathy, take a pleasant house in the 
 country with extensive grounds, hire laborers, cultivate 
 your fields, sow your gardens, and reap their fruit ; do 
 something ; be anything but a mere clod ; bring health 
 back again to your frame by constant exercise and out- 
 of-door life, and in the evening employ your servant, 
 who has proved himself, in his capacity of attendant, 
 trusty and intelligent, in reading good practical books, 
 which will keep your mind awake and your knowledge 
 of current events as thorough as before your blindness."
 
 i8 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Linwood stopped for breath, for his zeal for his friend 
 had quickened his usual measured tone, and the artist 
 thought generally more than he spoke. 
 
 " Tell me when your Utopian sketch is quite finished," 
 said Vernon, mockingly, and leaning back, apparently 
 without interest, into a more comfortable position ; but 
 Linwood, not heeding the interruption, continued his 
 exhortations. 
 
 " Then for me, you can fit up an artist's room, and I 
 will paint your grounds, your hill-tops, and meadows, in 
 pictures which might make me immortal, perchance, and 
 though the city must claim me sometimes, Vernon, my 
 country studio will be my real home. And now my 
 story is done, as they say in the nursery books; this 
 simple, rustic life may -not exactly suit you, but I pro- 
 mise you one thing, that the result will be peace of 
 mind." 
 
 " I own that you paint a picture with words as grace- 
 fully as you do with your pencil ;" replied Vernon, " but 
 still you must excuse me from being the principal figure 
 in it, even though it have meadows and hills in the fore- 
 ground, and peace of mind in the perspective. Excuse 
 me, I shall do very well where I am." 
 
 " No," said Linwood, rising and speaking with grow- 
 ing earnestness, " you will not, and you know it ; you 
 know that each day finds you more restless than the 
 last, and I sometimes think that even my favorite 
 country plan will not benefit you ; you need the tender- 
 est devotion and care, you need a sister's sympathy and 
 love, or finally, if I incur your displeasure for it, I must 
 be frank and speak my mind, you need the watchful 
 tenderness of a wife."
 
 Vernon Grove. 19 
 
 A look of intense scorn and incredulity passed over 
 Vernon's face as Lin wood thus spoke, and then breaking 
 forth impetuously in a torrent of words, he effectually 
 silenced Linwood's well-meant conversation. 
 
 " That would be something beyond the miraculous, 
 the moment, I mean, when any fair, refined, delicate 
 woman placed her hand in mine to follow a blind man's 
 fortunes. Ah, Linwood, you have something yet to 
 learn of human nature ; where have you been that you 
 have not heard that my misfortune has been the theme 
 of conversation for a month, and how one fair lady has 
 said that she pitied me because I could no longer use 
 my glorious eyes in a flirtation ; another, that she would, 
 because of my affliction, lose the best time-keeper in the 
 fashionable dances ; while a third," and here Vernon's 
 voice trembled and faltered, " while a third, who might 
 have spared me such words and have been at least silent, 
 whispered to a friend that though the light of my eyes 
 had departed, I had not lost my fortune ! If you can 
 convert these, Linwood, into watchful and tender wives, 
 women to love and cherish, you hold a magician's wand. 
 But it may not be, my path in life is clear to me ; blind, 
 almost forsaken, poor amid much wealth, because not 
 able to enjoy it, I must walk the hard, stony, rough 
 road of life alone." 
 
 " And yet not quite alone," said Linwood, quickly, as 
 he grasped his friend's hand. 
 
 " No, by heaven, there I was wrong," said Vernon, 
 his voice filled with emotion, " forgive me, my friend, 
 not entirely alone, thank God, under the light of your 
 watchful eyes and guided by your faithful arm."
 
 CHAPTER IE. 
 
 "I know a house, its open doora 
 
 "Wide set to catch the scented breeze, 
 "While, dimpling all the oaken floors, 
 
 Faint shadows of the swaying trees 
 Pass in and out like spectral things, 
 
 Dim creatures born of summer light, 
 'Till through the deepening twilight springs 
 
 A paler radiance of the night. 
 
 Across the broad unbroken glade, 
 
 Which girds this house on either hand, 
 The beach-clumps sprinkle showers of shade; 
 
 These out-posts of the forest stand 
 And guard the kingdom of the deer, 
 
 The stillness of their charmed domain, 
 Where Spring chimes matin every year, 
 
 And Autumn leaves fall down like rain." 
 
 Miss PARKES. 
 
 ALBERT LINWOOD departed from his friend's presence, 
 disappointed that he had not succeeded in his endeavors 
 to exchange his monotonous city life for a more varied 
 existence, but a spirit so earnest as his had its reward, 
 and Vernon, left to himself, pondered upon their late 
 conversation. 
 
 Each time that he reconsidered the matter, it appeared 
 more practicable to him, and sometimes almost inviting ; 
 and in this world of changes, where some one has said 
 that we are so different at different times that we could
 
 Vernon Grove. 21 
 
 write a letter, without any inconsistency, to " our dear 
 yesterday's selves," it is not surprising that it all ended 
 in Vernon's giving to Linwood full power to purchase a 
 desirable residence. 
 
 This task the latter gladly undertook, and succeeded 
 so well that after they had been established in the new 
 home a few days, and Vernon seemed to feel as his 
 friend had predicted, better and happier, he acknow- 
 ledged that Linwood had indeed done all things for the 
 best. 
 
 All his pictures and works of art were sent to orna- ' 
 ment his new home, and every thing that had any claim 
 to beauty in his town residence was removed to the 
 country-seat, while many additions were made suitable 
 to the style of the rural but elegant mansion. 
 
 It was pleasant, and yet touching, to see the interest 
 that the blind man took in all that appertained to his 
 present abode and the surrounding grounds ; the pic- 
 tures were all hung under his express directions, the 
 furniture arranged with a view to his peculiar tastes, 
 and even the little articles of vertu, which were beautiful, 
 and numerous curiosities from all climes under the sun, 
 were placed to suit his fancy ; and then the outward 
 details, which the last occupant had left uncared for, 
 were minutely described to Vernon, who with a buoyant 
 step and heightened color, would be seen directing the 
 workmen, and the result was ever a happy one, for his 
 taste, by practice and long experience, was never at fault. 
 
 Thus, if the change brought not happiness, it at least 
 brought occupation, and Vernon, as he sat at evening 
 thinking of his plans for the morrow, or what he had 
 achieved each day, almost fancied that he had lost his
 
 22 Vernon Grove. 
 
 identity, so different was he from the Vernon who, in 
 times past, had looked with contempt upon anything 
 which savored of the retirement of the country. 
 
 Nor was Linwood's pencil idle, for the beautiful land- 
 scape around afforded him an incessant study, and he 
 never wearied of gazing at the light and shade of the 
 fine panorama. 
 
 In the front of the house there lay a well-kept lawn, 
 almost English in its smoothness and verdure, which 
 curved downward gradually until it was lost in the 
 valley below. Trees of every variety decked this velvet 
 carpet, sometimes in clusters, but oftener in solitary 
 beauty, while in the vale below grew smaller shrubs, 
 which disappeared as the depression swelled into an 
 imposing hill covered thickly with forest trees, present- 
 ing from the mansion an ever-varied picture during 
 each succeeding season of the year. Spring brought 
 forth the tender budding green, summer the darker- 
 polished foliage of the maturer leaves, while the autumn 
 and winter phase each claimed admiration the one, for 
 the myriad shades and colors painted against the sky, 
 the other, for the pure snowy drapery of the boughs, 
 which rose mysterious and weird-like, like an assemblage 
 of white-robed spirits watching silently over the earth. 
 
 On the right stretched a silver river, not so distant but 
 that a passing sail might be seen occasionally upon its 
 placid bosom, until lost in the shading woods ; while on 
 the left, and in the far distance, rose a mountain with its 
 cragged blue peaks in full relief against the sky. 
 
 Nor must the rear of the house be left undescribecl, 
 for it was here that Vernon was most constantly occu- 
 pied, and here a garden was laid out around an artificial
 
 Vernon Grove. 23 
 
 lake, whose waters ever kept the foliage green. Indeed, 
 Linwood had chosen well for his friend, and Vernon 
 would sit for hours listening to his praises of the location, 
 at morning when the sun first tinged the waters of the 
 quiet river, at mid-day, when the artist's eyes would kin- 
 dle at the flickered light and shade upon the mountain 
 scene, or in the coming hour of night, when in the still- 
 ness they' could hear the forest trees, touched by the 
 evening breeze, whisper a farewell to the day. 
 
 But Vernon soon had another cause for anxiety beside 
 his own life-affliction, for not many months had passed 
 before he discovered that while he became each day 
 more reconciled to his own changed situation, Linwood 
 gradually seemed to grow weary of the contracted sphere. 
 lie had transferred to canvas all the striking views in 
 the neighborhood with exemplary patience, considering 
 that his forte lay rather in portraying the human face 
 divine ; but though he felt a weariness pressing upon his 
 spirits, he made an effort, and partially succeeded, to con- 
 ceal all appearance of ennui ; but Vernon, whose percep- 
 tions seemed more acute since he had been deprived of 
 sight, soon discovered the fact. 
 
 It seemed to display itself more after Linwood's return 
 from visits to the city where he often went, and though 
 Vernon deplored the change, after a severe struggle with 
 himself, he determined no longer to keep his beloved 
 friend and companion in a solitude which agreed not 
 with his ardent and ambitious temperament, and it was 
 then that he decided to offer him means to go abroad 
 and to improve himself in the art which was the daily 
 worship of his life. 
 
 When Vernon calmly told Linwood of his proposition,
 
 24 Vernon Grove. 
 
 little did he imagine that under that passionless exterior 
 there was a struggle that it seemed almost impossible for 
 the speaker to conceal ; but Linwood's own heart was 
 filled with such a glow of joy that it colored everything 
 around with its own rosy hue, and he forgot for a mo- 
 ment the lonely hours that his absence would bring. He 
 seemed floating in the atmosphere of a delicious dream ; 
 his life-long wish had ever been to go abroad, but the 
 purse of a young artist who had yet fame to win was 
 too scantily filled for him to entertain any such Utopian 
 idea. 
 
 For a moment only, however, did he forget his friend 
 in the brilliant vision which arose before him, for glanc- 
 ing at him to express his thanks, he saw, with dismay, 
 what a contrast his face presented to the feelings which 
 pervaded his own breast ; and his refusal to leave him, 
 his thanks for his generous offer, and the hope that he 
 would forgive his momentary forgetfulness of Vernon's 
 lonely position came in eloquent words from his lips. 
 
 But Richard would take no refusal ; calmly they sat 
 down to talk the matter over as he told him of his plans 
 and portrayed the advantages which a study of the old 
 masters would afford, until at last Linwood felt that to 
 refuse his friend's generous offer would be unwise and 
 ungrateful, and so, with a heart divided between joyful 
 and sorrowful emotions, the hope of his life was realized ; 
 he was on his way to the land of his many prayers, the 
 birth-place, the home, and the grave of the immortal 
 painters of the past. 
 
 After the departure of his friend, Vernon turned himself 
 more resolutely than ever to his plans for the improve- 
 ment of his country-seat, and with his ever-watchful ser-
 
 Vernon Grove. 25 
 
 vant, made more extended excursions across the woods, 
 which bounded his lands, into the more open country be- 
 yond. It was in one of these excursions, and almost be- 
 fore they were aware of it, that they suddenly found 
 themselves upon the little domain which was occupied 
 by the cottage of Mrs. Gordon, an aged lady, whose 
 slender means, and whose inclination, perhaps, kept her 
 a resident of the country, and it was here she lived in 
 complete retirement during the whole year, with only 
 her little grandchild Sybil for companionship, and an 
 old domestic who daily became more incapacitated for 
 labor. 
 
 A cup of cold water, asked for and bestowed, is often 
 a prelude to a more extended acquaintance, and before 
 many moments Vernon had gained several particulars 
 of the history of his hostess, which was a very sad one, 
 inasmuch as it included loss of property and the death 
 of loved ones ; but Vernon's sympathy was still more en- 
 listed by her telling him, after she had learned his name 
 that his mother and herself had been friends in early life, 
 that they had shared the same apartment at school, and 
 many an act of kindness on each side w r as narrated by 
 her with an earnestness which interested Vernon, and ac- 
 quainted him with several traits of his mother's early 
 years. Vernon would have lingered for hours by the 
 cottage door, but as twilight was approaching, he de- 
 parted with his guide, after having promised a repetition 
 of his visit. 
 
 Almost daily, after this incident, many comforts found 
 their way to Mrs. Gordon's home, and the early friend 
 of his mother became another object of interest to Ver- 
 non. The chance acquaintance ended, at last, with an 
 2
 
 26 Vernon Grove. 
 
 invitation from Vernon to Mrs. Gordon and the child to 
 remove from the cottage to his own home, and for fear 
 that the former might feel the obligation too great to 
 accept, Vernon added, that she, in return, could be the 
 superior of his household, and even extend her motherly 
 care over him in his helpless blindness. 
 
 After much doubting and earnest thought on Mrs. 
 Gordon's part, the change was made ; but though she 
 clearly saw the advantages of it, a hard struggle it be- 
 came for her to decide in its favor, as she had long been 
 attached to the humble roof under which she had lived 
 peacefully for so many years. 
 
 But to the little child, particularly, who had grown at 
 the side of her grandmother like the untrained wood- 
 bine over the casement, the prospect of a grand home, 
 studied behavior, and the thought of the solemn aspect 
 of the blind man, brought only tears. Each tree was 
 dear to her, each flower peculiarly hers, for craving 
 knowledge without having any instruction beyond the 
 mere rudiments of book-learning, intelligent without the 
 means of satisfying her thirst for information, her 
 thoughts had been directed to the wonders of nature, 
 and by patient investigation she had solved many a prob- 
 lem for herself, which a scientific naturalist would only 
 have arrived at by long study and numerous books of 
 reference. 
 
 With the birds her day began, and the rising sun 
 found her guiding the tendrils of a pet vine, or singing 
 among her own songsters of the wood; at mid-day, 
 obedient to her grandmother's call, she learned her daily 
 lesson, and the conscientious teacher imparted all that 
 she could from her own slender store of knowledge.
 
 Vernon Grove. 27 
 
 The father and mother of the child had both been re- 
 markable, the one for his bright, quick intelligence, the 
 other for her beauty, which was exquisite, though she 
 resembled the flower which blooms in the morning only 
 to wither in the noon-day sun. Both lived for a brief 
 season for each other, but soon found an early grave, 
 passing to a better inheritance than brilliant intellect and 
 beauty in another world. 
 
 Thus the poetry of Sybil's life was a legacy from those 
 united spirits, and the prose a daily gift from the hands 
 of her worthy grandmother, whose practical lessons of 
 duty helped to give a balance to the child's character. 
 
 The last adieus were said, the grand equipage of their 
 wealthy neighbor took them away from their vine-co- 
 vered cottage, and all the world was bright and beautiful, 
 while the woods were vocal with songs, but still Mrs. 
 Gordon found herself checking a rising sigh, and Sybil, 
 as she turned back to gaze once more with tearful eyes 
 upon the beloved scene, felt that she had left her whole 
 heart there among the pet birds and flowers of her fast 
 disappearing cottage home. 
 
 Richard Vernon met them at the door of his beautiful 
 mansion with a winning smile of welcome, which was 
 brilliant enough without the light of his eyes, which in 
 other days had beamed so brightly. The presence of 
 the child, indeed, he scarcely noticed, except by telling 
 Mrs. Gordon that she must have all her wants supplied ; 
 and Sybil, after arranging her little wardrobe and gazing 
 from the window in her pretty apartment at the view 
 of trees and the silver stream, hill, and glowing skies, 
 felt bewildered and home-sick, and wished herself once 
 more in her own low-ceiled room.
 
 28 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Nor were things brighter or better in the little maid- 
 en's troubled heart when her grandmother desired her 
 presence below ; with step, all unlike the bounding step 
 of the cottage girl, she descended the stairs and sat 
 demurely down, awed by the stillness of the great rooms, 
 feeling very awkward, and scarcely allowing herself to 
 gaze upon the beautiful pictures which adorned the walls, 
 though in after years those very pictures became to her 
 as household gods, and she knew each curve, and light, 
 and shadow of their exquisite proportions. 
 
 And again at evening it was not more cheerful for the 
 little stranger, as she sat in the damask-cushioned chair 
 longing for her own uncushioned rustic seat, for Mrs. 
 Gordon and her host monopolized all the conversation 
 with their plans for the future, and so it came to pass 
 that long before her cottage bedtime, Sybil fell fast 
 asleep in one of the great armchairs, sighing deeply as 
 the drooping lids at last closed tightly over her eyes. 
 
 Poor, little, lonely child, she was glad to find forget- 
 fulness in sleep, for the feeling of home-sickness, when it 
 comes to youth is a positive pain, dragging down the 
 young spirit to unutterable misery, for which tears are 
 sometimes a relief, but which is often too deep to be 
 healed except by the comforting hand of Time. Many 
 prayers are sent daily, hourly, from suffering, or pitying, 
 or sympathising hearts upward to God's mercy -seat, but 
 no prayer should be more fervent than this, no prayer 
 is more needed than this "God pity the home-sick 
 child ! " 
 
 Had Vernon's artist friend been seated with the trio 
 around the evening lamp, he might have kept those 
 sleepy eyes unclosed, and have hushed that despairing
 
 Vernon Grove. 29 
 
 sigh, for a cheerful spirit was his, loving childhood and 
 seeking ever with gentle kindness to win its love by many 
 legitimate arts of fascination, to which Vernon, either 
 through ignorance or want of interest, was a stranger, 
 and so, Sybil, her face flushed, her position uncomfort- 
 able, and left to herself, slept on, starting and sighing in 
 her dreams as they were colored with the gloomy hues 
 of unwelcome visions. 
 
 But at last the conversation came to an end ; some- 
 thing like a plan was decided upon for the future, and 
 Mrs. Gordon, with an apology to Vernon for Sybil's 
 unseasonable slumbers, roused the unconscious child, 
 and told her it was time for her to retire. Her good- 
 night was mechanically said in a drowsy tone, and Sybil 
 was hurried off to bed, not, however, before Vernon 
 had expressed his sorrow at having so little to entertain 
 her, and his wonder that she took no interest in the 
 books and pictures by which she was surrounded. Then 
 as they passed from the room, Sybil and her grandmo- 
 ther, he sat down and pondered long and deeply, and 
 one would have imagined from his contracted brow that 
 his musings were not of the most pleasant nature. 
 
 Nor were they ; he came to the conclusion that Mrs. 
 Gordon was not half so interesting by his fireside as she 
 was in her humble home, her sphere evidently being the 
 cottage, and that children were the most uninteresting 
 ci'eatures in the world ; then he asked himself if he had 
 done wisely in thus adding to his household an aged 
 woman and an ignorant child, the one scarcely a fitting 
 companion for him with his refined, over-fastidious 
 tastes, the other a useless appendage. To be sure, he 
 reasoned, a generous impulse had led him away, the
 
 30 Vernon Grove. 
 
 wish to befriend his mother's friend, but could he not 
 have shown his generosity in another Avay ? And then 
 what would Linwood think of his chosen companions ? 
 Still it was too late for reflections such as these too 
 late to undo what he had done, and these not very 
 salutary self-communings left him in a bitter mood. 
 
 But a few days altered the state of things, at least 
 with one of the parties concerned, and this was Sybil, 
 who, while her grandmother quietly found out her 
 sphere of duty and usefulness, discovered pleasures 
 inexhaustible for herself, as varied as they were new. 
 What cared she in her life of freedom what that grand, 
 cold, sightless man thought of her ? She was at liberty 
 to come and go, and she used that liberty to its full 
 extent, roaming where she would, over hill and dale, 
 through brake and forest, and making new friends at 
 every step among the birds and blossoms of Vernon 
 Grove. Not but there was some method in her life, for 
 her grandmother had taught her in a measure to be 
 methodical, and she had not forgotten, nor did she 
 neglect, the reading, spelling, and writing lessons, which 
 she knew, if faithfully performed, were a sure and solid 
 foundation upon which to build a more ornamental 
 structure. 
 
 Her mornings, therefore, were generally spent in the 
 well-stored library, into which she ventured with caution, 
 until she found that she was unmolested ; and as she had 
 been told that her father's favorite occupation had 
 been study, close unvaried application to books, she 
 had a romantic idea that his spirit, which her grand- 
 mother had taught her to believe was ever present 
 with her, would smile upon her efforts to imitate him,
 
 Vernon Grove. 31 
 
 and thus early were open to her those volumes which 
 other children would have avoided as unprofitable and 
 uninteresting. 
 
 To any one occupied in noting the progress of 
 Sybil's mind, it would have been a source of interest 
 and wonder to watch its development, for in a short 
 time she had read through most of the poets, and then 
 with an intuition which was almost incredible, did we 
 not know that there have been parallel cases, thinking 
 that something solid and true was required to balance 
 her mind, she had recourse to histories, and even works 
 of a scientific character. At first, as she daily took 
 refuge there, it was timidly, and as though she was 
 an intruder, but after two years had passed, she felt 
 strangely at home in that sacred apartment, into which 
 the master of the house seldom entered, and had appro- 
 priated a nook there for her own special resort, where 
 she could close her books at will and gaze dreamily out 
 upon the smiling fields, or farther on into the deep 
 mysterious woods with their vai-ied green, until the 
 study of Nature led her back again to the thoughts of 
 others in the precious volumes beside her. 
 
 Thus while Mrs. Gordon saw that her charge was 
 busied in the mornings with her so-called studies, and 
 that her afternoons were spent in wholesome exercise, 
 she was quite assured that she was making progress in 
 learning, and that she need give herself no trouble about 
 her physical education, for her cheek was still flushed 
 with health, and her form developing as gracefully and 
 as systematically as the bud matures into the attractive 
 beauties of the rose.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Unfolding slow their ivory fringe, 
 The lilies lie upon the pond ; 
 The firs have caught the sunset tinge 
 And murmur elfin-like beyond ; 
 I think whoever sought that grove, 
 To dream an hour of love or heaven, 
 Might, wrapt in some strange mystery, rove 
 And find this year had grown to seven." 
 
 MlSS PARKEa 
 
 " Give me music, sad and strong 
 Drawn from deeper founts than song ; 
 More impassioned, full, and free, 
 Than the Poet's numbers be : 
 Music which can master thee, 
 Stern enchantress, Memory." 
 
 BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 ANOTHER great resource of Sybil was to listen to Mr. 
 Vernon's music. Linwood had said the truth when he 
 told him that he possessed a fine musical taste, and it 
 was one of the few pleasures which he enjoyed alone 
 and independent of any one else, and he now did not 
 regret that he had studied it in former years as a science, 
 and bestowed upon it so much time and attention, which 
 his friends thought might be much better employed in 
 a way more congenial to their own frivolous pursuits. 
 
 Unconscious of listeners in the music-room at the Grove, 
 he would recall the inspired passages of the finest com- 
 posers, or with intense feeling, and with a deep true voice,
 
 Vernon Grove. 33 
 
 sing the songs which, had been his favorities in happier 
 hours ; and as each twilight saw him seated at his piano 
 with his soul in the melody or the words, so that hour 
 beheld Sybil, half reclining upon the threshold of the door 
 which led out upon the lawn, with her dreamy eyes fixed 
 upon the coming stars, wrapt, silent, motionless, with but 
 one thought in her heart, the cadence of sweet sounds. 
 
 To her such music was a new existence, or rather some 
 part of her being which she seemed to have lost or found, 
 for how unlike it was to her wild untaught carol, more 
 bird-like than human, how strange, and yet how exquisite, 
 that scientific combination of sounds, and she enjoyed 
 intuitively those intricate passages of tangled harmony, 
 which can be scarcely understood except by the favored 
 few whom genius has crowned, or by those patient 
 students who make music a part of their education. 
 
 With what longing did she anticipate that twilight 
 hour, with what pleasure did she look for that daily 
 privilege. Motionless as a statue would she sit until the 
 parting strains sounded, and then as they died away 
 and the instrument was closed, softly would she rise and 
 murmur inaudible thanks for the pleasure which she had 
 received, while Vernon in his blindness was all unconscious 
 of her presence, and then in some woodland haunt, believ- 
 ing that she had no listeners but the birds of the air, she 
 repeated the melody that she had learned from Vernon 
 with the same trills and passionate intonations, giving 
 his own emphasis to every word of her child-voice. 
 
 His favorite haunt in the woods was a secluded and 
 natural grove, and it w r as from this spot that the name 
 of his country-seat, Vernon Grove, had been derived. 
 It was, indeed, in 
 
 2*
 
 34 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " The very inmost heart 
 
 Of an old wood, where the green shadows closed 
 Into a rich, clear, summer darkness round, 
 A luxury of gloom." 
 
 Even in the brightest sunlight there would be shade 
 and retirement, and the whispers of the wind in the top- 
 most branches, that mysterious voice of the trees, brought 
 to his spirit, if not peace, something akin to it, and like a 
 cradled child listening to a beloved voice, he was calmed 
 beneath the tranquillizing influence. To this spot he 
 was often led by his attendant, who understood enough 
 of Vernon's habits to know that he desired to be left 
 there alone. 
 
 It was at such a time as this, that Sybil one day uncon- 
 sciously intruded upon his solitude. 
 
 The tempter, who had led her to the grove, was a 
 bird whose flight she was pursuing playfully, and she 
 was seduced into those quiet precincts before she was 
 aware of it, by its hopping from branch to branch, and 
 gracefully arching its little neck as the distance increased 
 between them, as if it enjoyed and understood the pursuit 
 but felt itself safe in its liberty. 
 
 Just at the entrance of the grove, the pretty creature 
 perched itself upon a tall bending twig that rocked to 
 and fro even with its slight weight, and then with a sort 
 of mocking triumph, as if it were sure that Sybil could 
 not reach it there, sent forth such a gush of melody, such 
 a thrilling song, that she stood entranced while she 
 listened. 
 
 When the song was ended, Sybil's joy found utterance 
 in the ringing laugh of a careless hnppy girl. 
 
 "Beautiful creature!" she exclaimed, "was that song
 
 Vernon Grove. 35 
 
 meant for me for me alone ? It must have been ; and 
 what can I do for you in return, as you sit up there on 
 your regal throne? Shall I call you the King of the 
 Wildwood, and will an answering song be tribute fit for 
 a subject to her sovereign ?" 
 
 The bird carolled a note as if in return to her question, 
 a soft, gentle, tremulous note ; and then her voice 
 rose in the forest in one of Vernon's favorite songs, at 
 first faint and trembling as though " a tear were in it," 
 then thrilling high in clear bell-like notes ; and at last 
 gushing out in an alto so rich and peculiar, so tender 
 and impassioned, that Vernon forgot his wonder in his 
 pleasure, and simply enjoyed with his whole being. 
 
 The intensity of the expression was derived from him, 
 but the trills and variations and the thousand nameless 
 graces, Sybil's alone. 
 
 "It seemed a sea-born music, floating 
 
 The blue waves o'er, 
 Like that which charms the mermaids, boating 
 
 By moonlit shore, 
 In every dying fall denoting 
 
 The strains in store." 
 
 As her song was finished, from the interior of the 
 grove she heard a voice calling her name, and frightened 
 and half abashed she entered with blushing cheeks, as 
 though she had been guilty of a crime. She knew that 
 it was Mr. Vernon's voice, and like a culprit she awaited 
 what he had to say. 
 
 " Sybil," said he again, in a voice which had no dis- 
 pleasure in it, " come nearer ; I have been listening to 
 your song ; tell me how and where you learned it, and
 
 36 Vernon Grove. 
 
 who taught you to give such expression to your words ? 
 Has some prima donna privately given you lessons that 
 you thus seem to have imbibed the very spirit of Italian 
 song ?" 
 
 " No, never," she said quite solemnly to his playful 
 question. " I would tell you, but I am afraid that you 
 might be angry." 
 
 "Not more than the bird to whom you sang it," 
 was the reply, " but why do you think that I might be 
 angry ?" 
 
 Sybil was candor itself, not so much from principle, for 
 that had not yet been developed, but simply because 
 deceit was not in her nature. 
 
 " I do not know exactly why," she answered, " but 
 that yon frown at times as though something vexed you, 
 and are so grand and solemn, that I thought you would 
 frown upon me if you knew " Sybil stopped. 
 
 " If I knew what, child ?" 
 
 " If you knew," she said softly, and watching every 
 line in his face, " that every evening when you sing and 
 think that you are alone, I sit on the door-sill watching 
 the coming stars and listening to you, and it seems such 
 a calm happy close to a busy day, that I am always 
 sorry when the music stops." 
 
 Vernon smiled rather than frowned, and this gave 
 Sybil encouragement to go on. 
 
 "And then," she continued, "I try to remember what 
 I have heard, and sometimes sing as you heard me just 
 now, out here in the woods, but only for myself." 
 
 "And the birds," said Vernon, smiling still more 
 kindly. Then he assured her that it would always give 
 him pleasure to have her for a listener ; and wishing to
 
 Vernon Grove. 37 
 
 prolong the conversation, because he was beginning to 
 feel an interest in his young companion, he asked her if 
 she loved music, and if it would give her pleasure to hear 
 those wonderfully gifted artists who have moved a whole 
 world to admiration. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she answered quickly, " the poets love it, 
 and so do I." 
 
 " And are you a poet as well as a songstress, Erato as 
 well as Euterpe ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no, no, not a poet," said she, blushing, " but 
 they all write so much and so feelingly about music, that 
 it was they who first taught me to love it, and then lis- 
 tening to you made me realize what a glorious art it was." 
 
 " And pray, what do you know about the poets ?" 
 he asked with growing curiosity, " are you a spirit or a 
 fairy that you read their brains, and fashion their thoughts 
 with words before they give them a form themselves ? 
 Do you meet them at midnight under the stars, and do 
 they sing for you their unpublished songs ?" 
 
 " No, sir," she answered, half puzzled at his bantering 
 tone, and half fearful that the dreaded frown would fol- 
 low the words, " those in the library, I mean ; grand- 
 mother said that I might go there if I were careful with 
 the books, and that you would not object, and, oh, Mr. 
 Vernon, if you could only " 
 
 " Only what, Sybil, do not fear to offend me, I am not 
 the monster you imagine me, eating little boys and girls 
 like an ogre, or killing them with a look ; teU me what 
 yo were going to say ?" 
 
 " This was all," she answered in a voice whose tone 
 now was softened by pity, " if you could only see to 
 read what I read there."
 
 38 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Vernon sighed ; it needed not little Sybil's confirma- 
 tion to tell him how much he lost by his blindness. 
 
 " But I must go now," she said, turning away as she 
 saw the sudden quivering of his lip, " for grandmother 
 must be expecting me," and so independent were they 
 of each other that she was hurrying off without another 
 thought of his solitude and blindness. 
 
 " Is it so late, then ?" he asked, " your song has 
 shortened, wonderfully, my afternoon musings." 
 
 " I am very sorry," she said frankly, as though he 
 implied that she had done something wrong, " can I call 
 John for you ? It is indeed getting late, for yonder is my 
 star, my summer timepiece I cull it, looking down upon 
 the grove, and see, now a light cloud is passing over it, 
 not quite hiding its beauty, and now it shines out again 
 in a solemn steady light." 
 
 Sybil was talking to herself, scarcely to her blind com- 
 panion. Alas ! there was no star for him, no cloud ex- 
 cept that over his blinded eyes, nor was there for him 
 that pretty picture of the child, pointing with upraised 
 finger to the heavens, yet it gladdened him to think 
 that her unstudied words told of a love of the beautiful 
 in nature, and it drew him nearer to his newly found 
 friend. 
 
 " We can go together, can we not, Sybil ?" he asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she answered gladly, and was tripping off 
 before him with a child's thoughtlessness, but he called 
 her back, and told her that she had forgotten that he 
 required a guide, and hand in hand they wended their 
 way homeward through the fragrant woods, conversing 
 with the freedom of old acquaintances. 
 
 " After all, Sybil," he said, " you are not such a child
 
 Vernon Grove. 39 
 
 as I thought ; you are almost as tall as my shoulder, 
 though you must still be very young." 
 
 " I am just thirteen," she answered, "but I am so 
 ignorant, so very ignorant, of what my grandmother 
 tells me every girl of my age should be acquainted with, 
 geography, grammer, and arithmetic, that I suppose 
 that is the reason why you thought I was a very little 
 child. As I know so little of what I ought to under- 
 stand well, she tries hard to instruct me, but she is get- 
 ting old and feeble now, and cannot teach me much." 
 
 Vernon mused awhile ; he felt that something was to 
 be done ; he felt that he had neglected her during those 
 past two years. That she had indeed done what she 
 could for herself, he doubted not, but what a wild un- 
 tutored mind was the result ; and then her wondrous 
 voice, and her love of the poets, what genius might not 
 they portend, and how much a systematic education 
 might achieve for her ! 
 
 He was not a man to argue, and think, and ponder 
 upon any fancy that he might have ; his resolution was 
 taken in a moment, and he told her of it. 
 
 " Just thirteen, Sybil?" he said, "then you must be 
 as one of your poets has said 
 
 1 As a rose at fairest, 
 Neither a bud nor blown.' 
 
 And it is full time for you to have masters to instruct 
 you, and you shall have* them, if you desire it, and you 
 shall take lessons upon what instruments, and learn what 
 languages you choose. Would you like to be brilliant 
 and accomplished ?" 
 
 If Richard could not see her, he knew by the fervent
 
 40 Vernon Grove. 
 
 clasping of her hands, and her heart-felt exclamation of 
 delight, that she appreciated fully his kind offer. 
 
 " And are you to do all this for me, and I nothing for 
 you ?" she asked timidly, after a pause. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he answered, with a laugh as careless as 
 in other days, " you must read to me from your friends, 
 the poets ; you must write for me, sing for me, and lead 
 me to the woodlands sometimes; you will have work 
 enough to do, Sybil." 
 
 " But not too much, I know," said Sybil, who was de- 
 lighted at the idea of being of importance to any one. 
 
 Then they were silent, each busily musing upon the 
 new page of life that they had turned, and nought was 
 heard save the twittering note of a bird seeking its 
 nightly shelter, or their foot-falls on the dead leaves, as 
 they passed homewards through the woods. The setting 
 sun crimsoned the western sky, and the early stars 
 peeped in and out in the twilight, but thaman and the 
 child walked on unconscious, thinking only of the star- 
 light and the sunlight that had so strangely and sud- 
 denly shone upon their hearts. 
 
 And soon they reached their home, from which they 
 had departed almost strangers ; but after she had led 
 him to his accustomed seat, and again thanked him for 
 his interest in her, after he had told her smilingly to re- 
 member that the obligation was to be mutual, they part- 
 ed, fast friends. 
 
 A day, an hour, a minute, fjijfa make the joy or sor- 
 row of a life ; we can even date back from a look, a sin- 
 gle glance of the eye, to the misery of years, or a clasp 
 of the hand has been the earnest of an existence of un- 
 alloyed happiness. And that day at the grove necessa-
 
 Vernon Grove. ^n 
 
 rily made the one or the other, the joy or the sorrow of 
 Sybil's life. But who can foretell the future of happy 
 joyous girlhood? We must accompany her step by 
 step to the end. 
 
 Sybil, I would have thy frank brow unclouded ever, 
 thy step as bounding, thine eye as tearless as now. But 
 can it be, where change is written on earth's fairest 
 scenes? The sunny morning merges into the stormy 
 night, the blooming field of summer becomes the wintry 
 moor, and thou must change, but how, and why ? 
 
 Happy Sybil ! With a glad step she hastened to tell 
 her grandmother of her good fortune and to talk of her 
 future accomplishments. She bewildered the simple 
 old lady with her eloquence, and overwhelmed her with 
 her recapitulation of what she would do and be. First 
 she meant to learn about the stars, know their names, 
 and trace the constellations in their rising and setting ; 
 she would seek the w T oods for botanical specimens, and 
 class each flower and shrub with minutest care ; she 
 would study geology, and the formation of the earth 
 would be as familiar to her as the formation of a simple 
 bird's nest, while French, German, Italian, and music, 
 would be her daily friends. 
 
 Nothing seemed too difficult for Sybil's excited ima- 
 gination, and if ever an air castle was built, itwa s then 
 and there by the breathless child, as she recapitulated 
 her future triumphs in learning to her grandmother, 
 who listened almost sadly, for those whom she had 
 loved and lost had been what Sybil called accomplished, 
 and had passed silently away from her sight. 
 
 She did not, however, chill the young enthusiast's 
 hopes, but kissing her warmly, in her own simple way
 
 42 Vernon Grove. 
 
 told her that she might live to know many more things 
 than her grandmother did, but that she must never for- 
 get that it was she who first taught her the names of 
 those very characters which were the foundation of all 
 book knowledge. Then looking down into the yov*ig 
 face which was turned upwards to hers, she continued 
 solemnly : 
 
 " And Sybil, dear, one thing more I must add ; re- 
 member, among many books there is still but one one 
 which came from heaven while all the rest are con- 
 ceived and fashioned by men ; you will never forget in 
 the new languages, in the brilliant thoughts, in the bewil- 
 dering romances which will be opened to you, the Bible, 
 my child? Promise me that." 
 
 " Never, oh, never," was the answer. 
 
 Wlien Sybil promised she kept her word.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Imagine, then, some pupil nymph consigned 
 To you, the guardian of her opening mind, 
 In all the bloom and sweetness of eleven, 
 Health, spirits, grace, intelligence, and heaven ; 
 While still from each exuberant motion darts 
 A winning multitude of artless arts. 
 Withal such softness to such smartness joined, 
 So pure a heart to such a knowing mind, 
 So very docile in her wildest mood, 
 Bad by mistake, and without effort good, 
 So humbly thankful when you please to praise, 
 So broken-hearted when your frown dismays, 
 So circumspect, so fearful to offend, 
 And at your look so eager to attend, 
 With memory strong, and with perception bright, 
 Her words, her deeds, so uniformly right, 
 That scarce one foible disconcerts your aims, 
 And care and trouble never name their names ! 
 Yes, I forget you have one anxious care, 
 You have one ceaseless burden of your prayer : 
 It is, great God, assist me to be just 
 To this dear charge committed to my trust." 
 
 DR. OILMAN'S Contributions to Literature. 
 
 RICHARD VERNON faithfully put all his plans for Sybil's 
 education into execution. He sent to a neighboring 
 town for masters, who gave daily lessons to his young 
 charge, and it must be confessed that he felt less 
 absorbed in his own immediate troubles and happier
 
 44 Vernon Grove. 
 
 than he had been for years, for now his life had added 
 to it a new object of interest, and he gave himself up to 
 the work before him with an energy which surprised 
 even himself. 
 
 Training up a child to womanhood ! 
 
 Alas, how unfit was he for the responsibility he had 
 assumed. It was an easy thing to guide her mind in 
 acquiring knowledge, to teach her the varied expres- 
 sions in music, or to give the right accent to a foreign 
 tongue, but the heart, how could he think as he did, of 
 moulding that? In his isolated position he had lost 
 sight of the fact of his unfitness for such an office. 
 None dared to tell him of his faults, he had not even 
 Linwood to remonstrate when he became overbearing, 
 but still the faults were there. Rebellious, unreconciled 
 to the great sorrow of his life, proud, obstinate even to 
 his own hurt, subject to fits of despondency and worse 
 paroxysms of uncontrollable anger, which would obey 
 no law, with no religious sense to temper a disposition 
 not naturally gentle, how could he, how could he say as 
 he did to himself, "I will be the guardian to this 
 child ?" 
 
 The outward graces of Sybil he might, indeed, culti- 
 vate, but never could he lift the veil which covered her 
 heart and say with unfaltering tongue, "I am worthy to 
 be the keeper of the treasure there." 
 
 As Sybil's studies confined her to the house more than 
 formerly, she learned something of the impulsive charac- 
 ter of Vernon, although she had never seen his temper 
 in its full deformity. Gratitude for the generous part 
 he had acted, pity for his blindness and the knowledge 
 of the interest which he took in her progress, ah 1 united
 
 Vernon Grove. 4.5 
 
 in fostering a feeling of affection for him and an intense 
 interest in his character, but it was not long before she 
 beheld it in its darkest shade, beheld that stubborn will 
 inflexible to the last, that cruel nature seemingly delight- 
 ing in its power to wound. 
 
 A boy, the child of a poor, but pious neighbor, had 
 been convicted of stealing fruit from Vernon's orchard, 
 and he ordered the culprit to be severely punished. 
 
 In vain the boy, who was a fine manly youth, con- 
 fessed his crime and besought Vernon's forgiveness, 
 promising on his knees repentance ; Vernon forgave not. 
 The boy reiterated in broken sobs that he knew his fault 
 was a flagrant one and deserved punishment, represent- 
 ing to him whom he had offended, the distress of his 
 mother when the account of his conduct and penalty 
 should be heard by her, that mother who had taught 
 him so differently ; he dwelt on the grief of his sisters, 
 who had ever been proud of his manliness and honesty, 
 but fruitlessly did the poor boy plead. In Vernon's 
 mind there seemed to be no recognition of the divine 
 precept of acting toward others as he would have others 
 act towards him, and his heart seemed hardened against 
 mercy. 
 
 When Sybil, who was a witness of the scene, beheld 
 that the boy's agonized pleading fell unregarded upon 
 his ears, she took up the offender's cause herself, and 
 besought him in pitying tones for a reprieve. Sybil, 
 whose voice had scarcely dared raise itself hitherto in 
 that grand homestead, was now almost eloquent in 
 another's behalf. She tirged Vernon to give him one 
 more trial, she appealed in every possible way to his cle- 
 mency, even describing the culprit's whole appearance,
 
 46 Vernon Grove. 
 
 his white innocent brow and the clustering curls that 
 lay above it, his intelligent eyes, and the firm, compres- 
 sed lips which bespoke resolve and character. 
 
 " Can these," she pleaded with tearful eyes, " belong 
 to a thief, a hardened determined thief? Oh, no, Mr. 
 Vernon, no ; it was his first fault, and may never again 
 be repeated, will never again be repeated, only forgive 
 him and let him go." 
 
 She might as well have spoken to the cold midnight 
 stars and have asked their sympathy, or have tried to 
 stay the onward rushing wind. Her interference, her 
 passionate appeal for mercy only exasperated Vernon 
 the more, and with a voice thick with passion, he 
 angrily repeated his order for the boy to be punished, 
 and the lad, with a crushed and broken spirit, was led 
 out to his disgrace. 
 
 Sybil turned away from the scene with a shudder; 
 interest in Vernon had been followed by fear; she 
 looked back once ere she departed, and drew a picture 
 mentally of his outward form and inner nature the one 
 brave and beautiful, with the nobility of manliness about 
 it, the other so black and hideous. Life grew suddenly 
 dark to her, she could not be quite happy in such com- 
 panionship, it would seem to her like holding the hand 
 of a demon who was dwelling in an angelic form. 
 Slowly she retired to her chamber to weep for the plead- 
 ing suifering boy, and yet more bitter tears were given 
 to the man who was a stranger to forgiveness. Then 
 she knelt and prayed for both, and felt comforted that 
 at the higher Mercy-Seat forgiveness would be found for 
 the penitent. 
 
 Then the morrow came and passed, and other mor-
 
 Vernon Grove. 47 
 
 rows went calmly by, and as nothing occurred in all 
 those happy days of study to ruffle that seemingly gen- 
 tle nature of Vernon, Sybil remembered what had 
 passed only as a frightful dream, or if it ever did come 
 to her as a reality, she had but to look at his composed 
 mien and placid face to assure herself that such an event 
 could not, would not occur again. Such a fiendish state 
 of mind might overtake a man once. 
 
 So likewise say they, who dwelling at the foot of a 
 volcano, have seen the melted lava rush once in destruc- 
 tive torrents down the mountain's side and yet they 
 have lived to see it again. 
 
 As might have been expected from Sybil's quick intel- 
 ligence, she improved daily in all that she undertook. 
 Vernon personally attended to her English studies, as 
 far as he was able ; directing her tasks, giving her sub- 
 jects for compositions, and teaching her, almost selfishly, 
 inasmuch as it concerned him so nearly, to read well. 
 As for music it was almost a plaything for her, and soon 
 the voices of the blind man and his young charge 
 mingled in song, and no sweeter melody could be 
 imagined than the united harmony. 
 
 Mrs. Gordon, when she saw Sybil's progress, forgot 
 her terror of learning in her delight at her grandchild's 
 improvement, and as her cheek still glowed with health, 
 and her form lost none of its roundness, she looked smi- 
 lingly on when she was appealed to for sympathy or 
 counsel, and left all unreservedly to Vernon's judgment. 
 She was not wrong apparently in so doing, for he was 
 ever watchful of his charge and judicious in his require- 
 ments, dividing the hours so faithfully between study 
 and recreation, that it left her no cause for complaint.
 
 48 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Mrs. Gordon saw, too, with pleasure, that Mr. Ver- 
 non's manner had changed towards Sybil, and although 
 he still regarded her as a child, he looked upon her as a 
 companion, and though she knew his faults of character 
 and condemned them, she trusted that Sybil's gentleness 
 would exercise a salutary and refining influence over 
 him, while she would be the gainer, too, by the 
 daily intercourse with a mind so cultivated as his, and in 
 listening to his conversation which was at once choice 
 and instructive. Perhaps the thought which reconciled 
 her most to the existing state of things, was, that Sybil 
 would find a friend in Vernon after the grave had closed 
 over her, as she felt before many years must be the 
 case. 
 
 There was, at the time of which we are speaking, a 
 great contrast in their evenings to those of the past 
 once Sybil closed her young eyes in sleep, but now while 
 she read to Vernon in a soft voice, which was modulated 
 in obedience to his fastidious ear, Mrs. Gordon's knitting 
 fell from her fingers, and lulled by Sybil's tone, she, in 
 her turn, wandered in the land of dreams. 
 
 " To-morrow you are to have a holiday," said Vernon 
 one evening to Sybil, " Donalzi has asked me for the day 
 to attend a religious ceremony. Let us make it a gala 
 day, Sybil." 
 
 He paused, but Sybil was silent, while on his too ex- 
 pressive face a shade of disappointment displayed itself. 
 
 " You are not half so delighted as I expected you to 
 be," he continued, " only think of a day without any 
 tasks ; why at your age my heart would have throbbed 
 wildly at the idea." 
 
 " But you know, Mr. Vernon," said Sybil, a little re-
 
 Vernon Grove. 49 
 
 proachfully, " that I shall not be as free as you say, al- 
 though I must confess that a real holiday would be a great 
 pleasure to me. In the first place, there is that grand 
 overture to practise, then that mystic German tale to 
 translate, and besides, I have my composition to read 
 to you, and then" but Vernon interrupted her in any 
 further enumeration of her stupendous duties. 
 
 " All these, except the composition, must be for ano- 
 ther day, dear Sybil," he said, " for I have disposed of 
 your time myself for to-morrow in a way which I trust 
 will be acceptable to you. I wish you to go on an ex- 
 cursion with me, a real old-fashioned pic-nic, when we 
 shall spend the day near a ruined church some miles 
 distant. It is so picturesque in its decay that I am told it 
 is well worth the little journey ; you must be as thought- 
 ful as Red Riding Hood, and take a basket of good things 
 with you ; I will order out the large coach, so as to be 
 as comfortable as possible, and John shall be our coach- 
 man and attendant." 
 
 His voice was so kind, his manner so encouraging, that 
 Sybil, forgetting for a moment how cold and harsh he 
 could be, bounded to his side, and clasping one of his 
 hands in her own, told him how she thanked him, and 
 what pleasure the drive would give her, not forgetting 
 the dinner in the woods, where she fancied herself 
 spreading a rural table and presiding over it ; then sud- 
 denly remembering who and what he was, to whom she 
 was unfolding every nook and corner of her young heart, 
 and how perhaps he was inwardly ridiculing her for her 
 burst of childish feeling, she blushed scarlet, and drew 
 back covered with confusion. 
 
 " Give me your hand again," he said kindly, as he felt 
 3
 
 50 Vernon Grove. 
 
 by her abrupt pause something of the truth ; then his 
 voice took almost a tone of solemn tenderness as he 
 spoke : " It is a soft hand, a true, good hand, and belongs 
 to a true good heart ; my sister has just such a hand, 
 but the world has spoiled her heart, has taken it piece 
 by piece for its own, and a hand without a heart's truth 
 in it is meaningless ; she has forgotten her brother, quite 
 forgotten him, I fear. Until the world has spoiled your 
 heart, will you be my sister, little Sybil ?" 
 
 He bent forward earnestly, with that strong yearning 
 for aifection in his breast, as if even with his blind eyes 
 he might read her face. 
 
 Sybil was silent, she knew not what to answer ; she 
 glanced at his strong, powerful frame ; his broad, intel- 
 ligent brow ; and then down, as it were, upon her own 
 diminutive self, standing by his side ; then she hastily 
 compared their mental difference, where the one knew 
 so much, the other so little ; and lastly, she remembered 
 his stern unbending will as opposed to hers, and she was 
 silent still. 
 
 " Then you will not promise," said Vernon, moodily, 
 " it is so hard a thing to do and be ? Do you forget, 
 Sybil, that years ago, by the cottage porch, you gave me 
 a whole garland which you had woven with infinite care, 
 will you refuse me now the simple flower of sisterly af- 
 fection ?" 
 
 We have said that Sybil's was a frank nature ; not a 
 shadow of deception appeared in her earnest eyes, but 
 there was trouble in their depth^as she glanced at Ver- 
 non and tried to frame a reply which would not wound 
 him. Xo slight excuse would satisfy her, no glossing 
 over of the truth; she could never have forgiven herself
 
 Vernon Grove. 51 
 
 for trifling with another, and even her own failings were 
 regarded by her with impartial judgment. 
 Her motto was, 
 
 " To thine own self be true, 
 And it must follow as the night the day, 
 Thou, can'st not theii be false to any man." 
 
 Then after a moment's thought she spoke out slowly and 
 distinctly, and Vernon found himself listening with 
 strange eagerness to her words. 
 
 " No, Mr. Vernon, I cannot be what you require, for 
 a sister must be in a measure, as I understand it, a friend, 
 an adviser whom a brother respects; a sister's wishes 
 and inclinations should be consulted, and I have no right 
 to these requirements at your hands ; and then I am too 
 young, too thoughtless, to be anything of a guide to one 
 so experienced, so worldly-wise as you are ; your nature 
 is too unyielding arid imperious to be guided by me." 
 
 " And suppose that I should subscribe to these all-im- 
 portant requirements," he asked, " what then ?" 
 
 " You never could" was the serious answer. 
 
 " Tell me why, Sybil ?" he said, with growing interest 
 and curiosity. 
 
 "Because, to engage to be a sister to any one is no 
 light thing," she answered, sitting down as to an impor- 
 tant consultation; "if I had a sister she should tell me 
 all my faults, and reprove me when she thought needful ; 
 we would pray together, weep and smile together ; her 
 sorrows should be mine, /md mine hers ; in fine, we would 
 be all in all to each other ; now, you know that we, you 
 and I, could never be this." 
 
 " And why ?" was the pertinacious question.
 
 52 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "Oh, because," she still truthfully answered, " you are 
 a great deal older than I am, and are too grand, and tall, 
 and cold, for such intimate companionship. It seems to 
 me if I had a brother, we would be flying together over 
 the lawn and roaming in the fields for flowers, and these 
 you could not do ; then he would always smile sweetly 
 on me, but your smile has something scornful in it at 
 times, truly a cruel smile ; and you walk upon the earth, 
 not as if you could not see God's beautiful world, but as 
 proudly as if it were made for you, and you had a right 
 to every inch of it. Then there is another reason, and 
 it is this, that I am afraid of you, or have been so un- 
 til to-day, and perfect love, the love of a brother and 
 sister, casteth out fear." 
 
 Sybil stopped for breath. 
 
 " Thank you," said Vemon, half amused, half angry, 
 with her portrait of him ; " I really did not know until 
 this moment how formidable I was. Is there no oasis in 
 the desert, no redeeming point that you could mention, 
 to take the sting from your utter condemnation of my- 
 self, to soothe my self-love ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," answered Sybil, truth still her guiding star, 
 " with all this there is a nobleness about you that seems 
 to belong to no other ; a word of praise from you is 
 worth more than a hundred from my teachers, and then 
 though your lips are often 
 
 'Curved like an archer's bow to let the bitter arrows out,' 
 
 their smile, sometimes, as if in contrast to that cruel sar- 
 castic smile of yours, is like sunshine. And besides this, 
 when I am reading romances, all the heroes seem to re- 
 semble you when you are happiest ; they have the same
 
 Vernon Grove. 53 
 
 soft wavy hair, the same perfect features ;" and Sybil 
 was going on to describe some one who was almost 
 ideally perfect in face and form, when Vernon stopped 
 her. 
 
 No wonder that her mind was full of romantic no- 
 tions, when Vernon's library had been daily open to 
 her ; no wonder that in her intercourse with a matter- 
 of-fact old lady, and a morose disappointed man, she 
 had almost lost the language' and ideas of childhood, and 
 like a forced hot-house plant, had expanded before her 
 time. Shut out from the world of children, their sports 
 and simple pleasures, her mind took its coloring only 
 from the company it had kept, and yet the playfulness 
 of childhood had not deserted her, though her judgment 
 belonged to maturer years. 
 
 "I did not mean that you should particularize so 
 minutely," said Vernon, somewhat embarrassed by her 
 candor, " but let us return to the old subject. Listen 
 to me, Sybil: after all that you have said I am not dis- 
 couraged yet ; promise to be my sister, and I will act in 
 all things as you desire, because, moreover, I know that 
 you will not abuse your power." 
 
 Sybil sighed, for, from his earnest tone she knew that 
 there could be no escape. It was a stupendous under- 
 taking to her young heart ; half her liberty would be 
 lost watching over him; but then she owed him so 
 much and he was so lonely, so doubly lonely because of 
 his blindness and the hard-heartedness of the sister who 
 had forsaken him ; what could she do but promise to 
 try at least, and putting her hand in his again, she spoke 
 in a firm voice, but with a beating faltering heart, the 
 words which had cost her such a struggle.
 
 54 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " I can but try, and I will ; but it must not all be on 
 my side, Mr. Vernon ; an orphan, brotherless, sisterless, 
 I, too, have need of a brother's care ; what I am to be 
 to you, will you in the same spirit be to me ?" 
 
 " I will, so help me God," he said impulsively but fer- 
 vently, " guard you, guide you, and sacrifice my own 
 happiness, if by so doing it would benefit you in any 
 way." 
 
 And yet 
 
 Why do I write that word of doubt, that ominous 
 yet ? She trusted him, tears starting to her eyes as she 
 felt the force of his solemn words and realized that she 
 had gained a friend for life. Was not the firm pressure 
 of those clasped hands a seal on the compact ? There 
 was nothing chilling in that. She might have been 
 painted as a picture of Faith, as she stood there in her 
 innocent youth with scarcely the knowledge in her heart 
 that there was such a thing in the wide world as a trust 
 betrayed^ a confiding heart deceived.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Better trust all, and be deceived, 
 
 And weep that trust and that deceiving, 
 Than doubt one heart, that if believed, 
 Had blest one's life with true believing. 
 
 Oh, in this mocking world, too fast 
 
 The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth ; 
 
 Better be cheated to the last, 
 
 Than lose the blessed hope of truth." 
 
 MRS. BUTLER. 
 
 " He who can take advice is sometimes superior to him who can 
 give it." VON KNEBEL. 
 
 SHE trusted him and the morrow's sun rose like any 
 other brilliant morning sun from his golden bed in the 
 east, peeping daintily through his embroidered curtains 
 to see if th earth were the same as when he left it 
 yesterday ; if the flowers blushed at his coming, and the 
 diamond dew glittered on the long bending speargrass; 
 if the laborer blessed him as he wended his way over 
 the smiling fields, and the birds greeted him with a 
 morning carol. Then he glanced at Sybil's window, 
 flushing the curtain with a rosy glow, to see if a white- 
 robed maiden stood there watching for his rising. In 
 truth he saw her there with the glory of the early morn- 
 ing around her : then boldly gazed his majesty from his 
 gorgeous couch, parting the drapery with his jewelled
 
 56 Vernon Grove. 
 
 fingers; right royal were the robes he donned, right 
 glittering his regal crown : then higher and higher he 
 rose in his azure-paved path, more brilliant each instant 
 he shone, until all the visible earth acknowledged his 
 presence, while he smiled at his reception, and the smile 
 was reflected on hill and plain, on rill and river, on the 
 tall tree tops and the blue-eyed violet, and a busy 
 murmur of life joined the silent welcome, while Sybil, 
 shading her eyes, watched his triumphant passage in the 
 heavens. 
 
 Yes, she stood there, watching, but alas, she was 
 scarcely the free-hearted happy Sybil of yesterday, and 
 the sun saw no welcoming smile upon her gentle face. 
 She felt that she had undertaken something gigantic, 
 and as though a little bird of the woodland had promised 
 protection to the eagle; but what she had promised, 
 now that her word was passed, that she determined faith- 
 fully to perform. 
 
 It was a new experience for Sybil to be gloomy and 
 thoughtful, for her disposition was one of those bright 
 and happy ones " which mourners even approve." And 
 yet that placid temperament by no means betokened a 
 perfect character, for there can scarcely be perfection of 
 character without trial, and Sybil had had no trials. She 
 had received none of that chastening which is necessary 
 to the formation of a proper religious spirit ; she was 
 what she appears to us rather from circumstance, 
 from native disposition, than from any effort of hers ; 
 she had seldom known what self-denial was, had never 
 been thwarted, and having had no young companions, 
 was a stranger to those little differences which are 
 so apt, while they tarnish the fair heart of childhood
 
 Vernon Grove. 57 
 
 in some instances, to cause others to rise superior to 
 them. 
 
 But then, on the other hand, had these early trials 
 indeed come, Sybil Avas well fortified to meet them by 
 the watchful training of her good grandmother, who had 
 passed through many a furnace of affliction, and who 
 had but one abiding thought, a future world, and how 
 to prepare herself for it. She took every opportunity 
 to teach to Sybil the simple duties of life, and had made 
 the Bible a part of her daily instruction, arid Sybil knew 
 that it spoke of a wrong path and a right one, of evil 
 and good, pride and lowliness, lip service and heart 
 service, worldly love and Christian love, and she chose 
 from its mingled elements the better way. Then with a 
 practical piety which linked itself with the minutest cir- 
 cumstance in life, Mrs. Gordon had interested her young 
 charge in every-day stories drawn from the chambers 
 of fiction in her own fertile brain, the burden of which 
 was, that life was a battle that had to be fought, that 
 even in that battle we should be as much concerned 
 about small things and trifles as about more important 
 considerations, that a hasty word, a petulant spirit, an 
 unforgiving heart, were the commencement of crimes of 
 a deeper dye, and that the murderer was once an inno- 
 cent child sleeping upon its mother's breast. 
 
 " Stop the first thought of evil," she would say to 
 Sybil, who stood by, listening attentively, more for the 
 sake of the story than the moral, " ' an angel could do 
 no more,' and there will be nothing left of which to 
 repent ; and above all be careful of those household sins, 
 impatience, fault-finding, petulance, and coldness, which 
 do not so much affect your own happiness as that of 
 3*
 
 58 Vernon Grove. 
 
 those around you ; at first they may be but a cloud no 
 bigger than a man's hand, but those clouds very often 
 grow and cover the Avhole heavens." 
 
 It was by thus being daily fortified that Sybil early 
 learned the lessons of truth and goodness. 
 
 As she stood by the window musing upon her first 
 real trial, and watching the upward progress of the sun, 
 it did not occur to her, occupied as she was with other 
 thoughts, that the plan determined upon the night 
 before, was to have their morning meal an hour earlier 
 than usual on account of their projected excursion, and 
 it was not until she heard Vernon's voice busied in giv- 
 ing orders for their pleasure trip, that she hastened 
 down to meet him. 
 
 "You are late," he said coldly, as she bade him good 
 morning, " and I have been waiting some time for you ; 
 before one learns anything else in life, he should learn 
 by heart the lesson, ' be punctual.' 1 Mrs. Gordon does 
 not feel well enough to come down to-day, and you 
 must take her place as something of a housekeeper and 
 general overseer, which, by-the-by, will be quite in 
 accordance with your promise of last night. Come, we 
 will wait no longer, and after breakfast you can inquire 
 if she needs any thing before we go." 
 
 Sybil's face grew as white as her morning robe, first 
 because Vernon's tone was abrupt and impatient, and it 
 reminded her that she was a slave to the bond of the 
 night previous, and next, because this hinted surveil- 
 lance over the household was an unexpected duty and 
 not at all to her taste; then to be absent from her place 
 at meal-time was an unusual thing for her grandmother, 
 and though her first impulse was to fly to her and ascer-
 
 Vernon Grove. 59 
 
 tain her exact state of health, feeling that Vernon 
 expected her to remain where she was, mechanically she 
 obeyed what she thought was his wish, and yet the 
 restraint annoyed her, and she felt angry with herself 
 for yielding so quietly to what she knew was wrong, 
 nevertheless she led him to the breakfast-room and offi- 
 ciated with grace and sweetness in her novel position. 
 
 It was a great effort to her, too, to control her varied 
 emotions, but that which affected her most, was the ill- 
 ness of her grandmother, because it always distressed 
 her to see her suffering ; and disappointment, also, was 
 added to her other little troubles, for she felt that 
 her proper place was at her bedside, and that the excur- 
 sion must be given up ; and this last subject she broached 
 to Vernon. 
 
 " By no means," he answered hastily, to her propo- 
 sition, " to postpone the pic-nic ;" " our arrangements are 
 all made, the carriage is at the door, and one of the 
 servants can remain with your grandmother until we 
 return." 
 
 Sybil's eyes filled with tears ; " I never leave my 
 grandmother while she is suffering," she said, " and can- 
 not think of going to-day ; some other morning will be 
 just as bright and lovely." 
 
 " I have already said," he retorted in a tone so stern 
 that Sybil started, " that to-day we go, and on no other ; 
 I shall expect you to accompany me ;" and calling his 
 servant, he left the room before Sybil could frame words 
 to answer. 
 
 "Trifles do, indeed, make up the sum of life," she said 
 to herself, as he left her alone, " what unhappiness a 
 single selfish imperious will can create !" She wondered
 
 60 Vernon Grove. 
 
 where her courage had fled, her determination to cor- 
 rect his faults when in opposition to her ideas of right. 
 A very breath of air they were, it would seem, gone, all 
 gone at the sound of those emphatic words "to-day 
 ice go." 
 
 But no, Sybil's moment of self communion gave her 
 strength, and she arose with a stolid look of rebellion on 
 her face. 
 
 " I will not go," she said, firmly planting her foot on 
 the ground as if defying a whole legion of foes, " I will 
 not leave one who loves me, lonely and suffering, for an 
 insignificant ruined church, no, not even for the ruins 
 of Rome, and I shall tell him so." 
 
 Sybil might have spared herself her childish passion- 
 ate exclamations of indignation, and the scornful con- 
 traction of her haughty brow, for her tragic attitude, 
 worthy of theatrical boards, was suddenly altered to 
 one of joy as the door opened, and Mrs. Gordon 
 entered, who in answer to Sybil's numerous questions, 
 told her that she had been seriously indisposed, but that 
 she was now quite restored again. Sybil offered to 
 remain at home with her for fear of a return of her ill- 
 ness, but Mrs. Gordon positively declined her company, 
 telling her that she must, on no account relinquish her 
 anticipated drive, especially since she had promised 
 Vernon her sisterly guidance, and before many minutes 
 elapsed, she found herself seated by Vernon and on their 
 way to the ruined church. 
 
 Sybil entered upon her pleasure excursion in silence ; 
 Vernon was silent, too, but from a different cause ; he 
 was enjoying the dewy freshness of the morning, the 
 singing of the myriad birds, and the exhilarating swift-
 
 Vernon Grove. 61 
 
 ness of their course through the fragrant woods; she 
 was wondering how best she might tell him that she 
 thought his .conduct had been selfish and unfeeling, and 
 that spite of his angry tone she had determined not to 
 come, had her grandmother's indisposition continued. 
 But, alas, she knew not how to begin ; the woodland 
 bird was indeed no match for the proud eagle. She had 
 a vague idea that something in the form of a sermon 
 might touch that hardened heart, and she had already 
 selected her text from a sentence which she had met 
 the day before, and which had dwelt forcibly on her 
 mind : " The worst education which teaches self-denial, 
 is better than the best which teaches everything else, 
 and not that," when Vernon unconsciously broke the 
 silence, and for ever scattered the text, argument, and 
 conclusion of Sybil's anticipated discourse. 
 
 " What a divine morning it is, Sybil. God gives us 
 an earnest of Heaven sometimes in a day such as this; 
 is it not perfect, and to your favored eyes, does not the 
 sun shine with a peculiar brilliancy ?" 
 
 " Yes," she answered, vacantly, scarcely knowing that 
 even that unsatisfactory monosyllable had escaped from 
 her lip's. 
 
 " And the birds," continued Vernon, " they seem full- 
 choired this morning ; are there not many around us 
 enjoying the bi'cath of Spring? But what a busy kind 
 of enjoyment ! I trust that the time may never come, 
 if the transmigration of souls be not a fable, for mine to 
 dwell in the body of a bird. What an impatient, twit- 
 tering, restless existence ; what a building and pulling 
 down, what energies wasted, what a round of food- 
 seeking, food-devouring engagements they have. N"o,
 
 62 Vernon Grove. 
 
 give me the stupid calm of the snail rather ; but you 
 have not answered my question, Sybil ; do you disdain 
 simple prose and require poetry on such a day as this as 
 a medium of conversation? Well, then, are not the 
 little songsters, to quote something quoted by every- 
 body 
 
 ' Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 
 In Vallambrosa?' " 
 
 But all in vain was Vernon's earnest call for sym- 
 pathy, and his enthusiastic mood was only replied to by 
 a faint, " I believe so." 
 
 " But do you not know it ? Of what are you think- 
 ing this morning, Sybil ?" 
 
 Sybil roused herself at last to answer in a grave and 
 thoughtful tone. 
 
 " I was not thinking, I confess," she said, " either of 
 sun or birds, but I was thinking, Mr. Vernon, of your 
 heartless conduct this morning, and in what language to 
 couch it, and how I could tell you, that if I had not left 
 my grandmother well and cheerful, I would have 
 braved your displeasure and would have remained at 
 home with her." 
 
 Vernon smiled in derision, then frowned. It was a 
 new thing to be found fault with, quite new for any one 
 to dictate to him what he should or should not do or be, 
 and he spoke bitter words of sarcasm, forgetting quite 
 the bond of the night before. 
 
 " You display a wonderful dignity," he said, bowing 
 low to Sybil, " an extraordinary propriety ; why not 
 have displayed this unparalleled and heroic devotion 
 before we started, and I could easily have dispensed with
 
 Vernon Grove. 63 
 
 your reluctant presence ; but stay, we are not harmoni- 
 ous, I perceive, with these elements ; they betoken any- 
 thing but a, pleasure trip, I will order John to return." 
 
 " Stop, Mr. Vernon," said Sybil with a trembling 
 voice, " I have a few words to say to you before you 
 give your order. I do think that you were wrong this 
 morning, and I determined to tell you so, because you 
 bestowed upon me the right to criticise your faults in 
 our new relation of last evening ; and besides, let the 
 question come home to yourself; do you think that I 
 would have left you had you been lonely and in pain, for 
 any Heeting party of pleasure? No, upon my word I 
 would not /" 
 
 The soft accents of the truthful voice fell like dew 
 upon his angry heart. Ah, then, he had a claim upon 
 some one who would remain by his couch were he suf- 
 fering ; some one other than a paid menial to attend to 
 his wants. There was positive comfort in the thought. 
 Lonely, deserted, afflicted, he still had one friend, 
 a bright, companionable being, who would not forsake 
 him even for her own pleasure. The idea had a wonder- 
 fully soothing effect, while common-place thanks seemed 
 wretchedly out of place after her earnest tone, and 
 " God bless you, Sybil," came struggling through his 
 quivering lips. 
 
 But that was not enough for Sybil. Was she infatu- 
 ated that she could not be satisfied with his softened 
 mood ? She wanted the whole letter of the law fulfilled ; 
 she wanted him to confess his fault like a little child, to 
 say that he was sorry and would do so no more, to do 
 anything that evinced repentance. 
 
 " Then do you not think that you were wrong this
 
 64 Vernon Grove. 
 
 morning? Oh, Mr. Vernon, only say it, and feel it 
 too." 
 
 Vernon was silent, Sybil half frightened for fear that 
 she had ventured too far, but it was not that which 
 annoyed him. The words refused to come to his lips 
 because he could not understand the new sensation ; he 
 could not realize how he, a man of the world, an inde- 
 pendent actor and thinker, sat there swayed and influ- 
 enced by the remarks of a simple country girl. 
 
 " Then you will not say it," she said mournfully, " I 
 can answer your question now. The sun does not shine 
 brightly to-day, nor are there myriads of birds who .sing 
 joyfully in our path. The earth is a very gloomy place ; 
 come let us return, since we both wish it." 
 
 But the order was not given, and in its stead four 
 little words were spoken by a manly voice, which 
 brightened wood, and blossom, and sky, and birds, and 
 more than each and all, Sybil's downcast face. 
 
 "I was wrong, Sybil" four little words, but quite 
 enough for her who heard them, for buoyant with lite 
 and happiness, laughing, talking, singing, she now 
 showed to Vernon a new and fascinating phase of her 
 ever-varying character. 
 
 As the carriage left the beaten road and entered the 
 shaded wood, Sybil's tone became more subdued. "Do 
 you not perceive," she said to her companion, " by the 
 cold dampness of the air, that we are close upon a deli- 
 ciously sheltered spot, where the boughs almost meet and 
 mingle overhead ? It puts me in miiid of some lines that 
 I met with the other day 
 
 ' Scarce doth one ray 
 Even when a soft wind parts the foliage, steal
 
 Vernon Grove. 65 
 
 O'er the bronzed pillars of the deep arcade; 
 Or if it doth, 'tis with a mellowed hue 
 Of glow-worm colored light. 1 
 
 How beautiful is that description of such a place as 
 this, and then add to it, but alas in my own cold prose, 
 that a stream gleams at intervals through the trees, and 
 that the rippling murmur that you hear, is the flowing 
 of its waters over crystal-looking pebbles, and you have 
 a rural picture unsurpassed for quiet beauty. You have 
 lived in the city, Mr. Vernon, and I sometimes think 
 seem to prefer its crowded streets to this hush of nature, 
 but to me it appears as if no art could equal the delight, 
 the peace, that the country brings." 
 
 " In days past," returned Vernon, " when the world 
 was to me what it is to you, it is true that I preferred a 
 more active busy life, a life among men ; now I would 
 not make the exchange, but let me have my sight again, 
 and I would gladly return once more to the domain of 
 art. Think of the luxuries of a city life, its amusements, 
 its resources, its pictures, its architecture ! You do not 
 know my friend Linwood, Albert Lin wood, but were he 
 here he would convince you, with his eloquent words, of 
 your mistaken choice, for he, too, loves a city life and its 
 advantages, and only visits the country occasionally for 
 inspiration, returning with renewed zest to his pictures, 
 and that artificial life which you are so ready to 
 condemn." 
 
 " You betray both him and yourself," said Sybil 
 quietly, " when you say that he must needs come to the 
 country for inspiration, for from whence do poets and 
 painters obtain their ideas and images except from the 
 study of nature ?"
 
 66 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " I am afraid that I have given you a false idea of 
 Limvood's predilections; he is scarcely a devotee to 
 nature, unless it be human nature when he studies it to 
 give a life-like reality to an expression in the face of a 
 portrait. Although he occasionally transfers a landscape 
 view to canvass (for instance, that exquisite picture of 
 Evening, which hangs in your chamber, and which yon 
 admire so much for its peculiar coloring), what most 
 engrosses him is portrait painting, or sketching ideal 
 faces of angelic loveliness, for he is a perfect worshipper 
 of beauty in woman." 
 
 Vernon stopped, bent his head down ward for a moment, 
 as though he was ashamed of trying to hide the flush 
 that covered his face, then raised it, while Sybil noticed 
 that when he spoke again, it was no longer with his clear 
 measured utterance, but with a quick out pouring of 
 word after word, as though he must say, and that in a 
 given time, a certain number of sentences. 
 
 " He painted a face once for me, Sybil," he resumed, 
 " not an ideal, but a living, breathing reality, a face so 
 exquisitely lovely, so queen-like in its majestic grace, that 
 to see it was to love it, and I loved it, fearfully, madly, 
 until I discovered that what was so fair, so innocently 
 fair, could be false too. You have heard that the pious 
 monks of La Trappe have ever before them the painted 
 form of a beautiful woman, and that on the other side 
 of the portrait, a hideous skeleton is depicted ; this is 
 fixed by machinery so as to revolve continually in a way 
 that makes the figures blend in disgusting proximity, a 
 type of the rottenness and insecurity of all earthly beauty, 
 a warning that even thus most surely mingles life's 
 divinest creations with death's unsightly carcass ; so I
 
 Vernon Grove. 67 
 
 would have had some monster, some fiend of the shades 
 of darkness, painted on the reverse of Linwood's picture 
 and have called it by its fitting name, Deceit." 
 
 Vernon's breath came quick, and he gasped out rather 
 than spoke his closing words, Avhile Sybil watched him 
 in mute wonder. She would have been glad to hear 
 more of that mysterious picture which had moved 
 Vernon so, and the description of which had given him 
 a death-like pallor, and brought out cold drops of dew 
 upon his brow, but he appeared indisposed to reveal any 
 more than he had done, and sinking back within the 
 carriage, covered his face with his hands and seemed to 
 give himself up to thought. 
 
 Sybil sat statue-like, fearing to annoy him even by a 
 movement, and thus he dreamed, perchance of some ter- 
 rible hour of the past, perhaps of an uncertain future, 
 until they found that they had reached their destination, 
 the ruined church.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild 
 
 And terrorless as the serencst night : 
 Here could I hope, like some inquiring child 
 Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight 
 Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep 
 That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep." 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 " Wasting storms 
 
 Have striven to drag it down : yet still it stands, 
 Enduring like a truth from age to age." 
 
 BARRY CORNWALL. 
 
 SYBIL and her companion alighted in silence, words 
 seeming superfluous to convey to each other the impress 
 which their minds had received from the solemn stillness 
 that reigned around them. They both felt that they 
 were treading on sacred ground, and that besides being 
 the home of prayer, the place where, in time past, songs 
 of praise had mingled with the carol of the birds, the 
 graves of the dead were around them and in their very 
 path. She led Vernon at once to the shaded church- 
 yard, and there, seated on a half-defaced slab, thick with 
 the mould of years, they listened awhile with a deep 
 sense of tranquil enjoyment to that unceasing forest 
 requiem, the rustling of the shivering leaves, now full 
 like a chorus of mournful voices, and then dying away 
 as if echoed from spirit-land.
 
 Vernon Grove. 69 
 
 " Here the weary rest," at last said Vernon, breaking 
 the long silence, "yes, there remaineth a rest ; the Bible 
 says that, does it not, Sybil ?" 
 
 " Yes," she answered softly, and with an audible sigh, 
 " but only for the people of God." 
 
 " Does Sybil sigh for herself, or others ?" asked her 
 companion. "For myself, myself," she answered eagerly. 
 " Oh, Mr. Vernon, in such a place, in such an hour as 
 this, does not the earth and all its scenes seem a dream, 
 and only what follows after, the reality ? And yet how, 
 how much we care for the fevered dream, how little for 
 the solemn reality ! It is only when some experience 
 like this overtakes me, and presses upon me a solemn 
 admonition, that I feel the true significance of discipline, 
 and that 
 
 1 This life of mine 
 Must be lived out, and a grave thoroughly won. 1 " 
 
 " If you in your purity are not fit for the rest of the 
 grave and the peace of another world, then who on this 
 wide earth is ?" said Vernon. 
 
 " Hush, hush," answered Sybil earnestly, to what she 
 thought Vernon's almost impious remark, "you know 
 not what you say ; ah, no ; good enough for those pure 
 skies ! One could scarcely be good enough without 
 some severe trial like yours, Mr. Vernon, if you would 
 only view it aright, or the death of some beloved friend 
 bringing anguish and desolation with it. Sometimes I 
 am rash enough to wish that some great trial would over- 
 take me, or that a fearful temptation might assail me, so 
 that I might indeed be like those to whom the Scriptures
 
 70 Vernon Grove. 
 
 declare, and to him that overcometh I will give a crown 
 of life." 
 
 Sybil's whole soul shone in her face as she uttered 
 these words, not her every-day soul of cheerful gladness, 
 but her Sabbath soul with a halo of holiness around it. 
 This would-be martyr spirit gave to her countenance a 
 lustre that it had never worn before, and had even Lin- 
 wood's critical eyes beheld her, she would have been to 
 him a picture, an inspiration ! 
 
 " You are an eloquent preacher," returned Vernon, 
 "but you must remember that we are not within the 
 church, you as pulpit orator and I as audience ; besides, 
 you forget that I hold my own peculiar tenets, and that 
 like Faust I would say, 'that I know enough of this life, 
 and of the world to come we have no near prospect ; 
 what need is there for man to sweep eternity ; all he can 
 know lies within his grasp.' Your preaching therefore 
 will not reach my case ; moreover, you must remember 
 that I am ignorant of the beauties around, .which, no 
 doubt, you are enjoying, and that I brought you here 
 for the very selfish reason that you might describe them 
 to me." 
 
 Sybil sighed again ; she could have spoken longer, 
 more eloquently still upon the forbidden subject, but she 
 felt that Vernon neither understood nor appreciated what 
 she said. 
 
 " Sighing again, Sybil," said Vernon in a half-banter- 
 ing tone, and speaking recklessly, as if he cared not 
 whether she applied what he said to himself or her, 
 "he who sighs because he has no misfortunes, will soon 
 find that they will come to him unbidden; let one be 
 ever so happy in life, his paths all sunshine, his existence
 
 Vernon Grove. 71 
 
 so joyous that he will be ready to exclaim 'let me be 
 earth's denizen for ever,' and in a night, in a single hour, 
 a hand will come and smite him to the ground, perhaps 
 closing his eyes to the beauty of life, and so closing his 
 heart to holier influences for ever. No, let him enjoy 
 while he may ; why fight the never ending battle of 
 existence to be what the world calls ' good ?' Why even 
 try, when daily as he tries he fails ?" 
 
 " I have read somewhere," said Sybil sadly, pained by 
 Vernon's levity and indifference, " that what we ear- 
 nestly and truly aspire to be, that, in some sense, we are, 
 and the mere aspiration, by changing the frame of mind, 
 for the moment realizes itself! Oh, let us never give up 
 trying even to the end." 
 
 Sybil spoke earnestly, and Vernon seemed to listen 
 with interest, then as if desiring to dismiss the subject 
 altogether, he renewed his request for his companion to 
 describe the scene. 
 
 " It is wild enough," she began, " to be the very 
 haunt and home of the Dryads, and old Pan himself 
 might take shelter beneath these enormous trees, which 
 are fit 
 
 ' to be the mast 
 
 Of some great admiral,' 
 
 and which shoot up from the knarled exposed roots into 
 a straight tall growth, interlacing their boughs overhead. 
 This is their appearance near, but as I look through the 
 wood, myriad gothic arches meet the eye, until their line 
 of beauty is lost in the distance. Here and there, long 
 vines, some of them almost as thick as a sapling, hang 
 from the trees, trailing their shaggy barks in varied fes-
 
 72 Vernon Grove. 
 
 toons, or creeping like dark serpents on the ground. 
 Around us are many slabs, some broken, some preserved 
 entire, but all worn with age and covered with damp 
 green moss. Then by the inscriptions it would seem 
 that husbands and wives .lie side by side, and soldiers 
 rest here peacefuUy from war and bloodshed. Here, 
 too, at our very feet, are little children sleeping, and 
 tender words show that some home was darkened by 
 their early flight. To the right stands the church, 
 which is indeed a ruin, but very picturesque, as you said, 
 in its decay. Scarcely an arch is preserved entire, and 
 the sunshine glances down into the unsheltered aisles 
 below. Here and there, the young, fresh, green, and the 
 weather-stained leaves of the ivy mix their shades in 
 charming contrast, and entwine around the crumbling 
 and broken pillars." 
 
 " Fit types of my fresh young Sybil and her weather- 
 beaten friend," interrupted Vernon playfully. 
 
 Sybil looked at him fixedly for a moment. One pecu- 
 liarity of hers was, that though she appreciated wit and 
 brilliant repartee, her mind could not take in the equi- 
 vocal meaning of badinage. Her own nature was so 
 transparent, that she looked for the same transparency 
 in others. The soft breeze lifted Vernon's brown hair 
 from his brow, and his face wore such a calm happy 
 look, so free from any aspect of care, that Sybil said 
 gently, " you are not so very old, Mr. Vernon ; at least 
 you do not look so to-day." 
 
 "No incredible amount of years has passed over my 
 head, certainly," he answered, " but the last of them, 
 ah, the last of them have been weary, Aveary years, little 
 Sybil. If one does indeed live in feelings and heart-
 
 Vernon Grove. 73 
 
 throbs, and not in years, mine should be reckoned at 
 nearly a century, while the young tender ivy upon 
 which not even a rude breath has blown, is in the very 
 spring of life, and I must persist in comparing you to it 
 and myself to the old sere leaves." 
 
 Sybil smiled at that adjective "little" which Yernon 
 almost always prefixed to her name, for though not yet 
 arrived at the medium height of woman, in the last three 
 years she had developed wonderfully, and she felt that 
 to any one save Yernon, she would be little SyMl no 
 longer. She liked to hear it come unconsciously from 
 his lips, assuming as it did to her ears a character of 
 endearment. 
 
 " And yet," she answered thoughtfully, looking up to 
 the ruin, " they twine together in perfect harmony, and 
 one would lose half its fitness and beauty without the 
 other." 
 
 She thought only of the ivy, while Yernon thought 
 but of her, of her gentleness and goodness, and her 
 ever-watchful care of him, and he wondered mentally, 
 how long the tender green would be content to dwell 
 side by side with the weather-stained leaves, and what 
 rude shock would come at last to tear them asunder. 
 But the subject was too painful for him to dwell upon 
 long, and he hastened to direct his thoughts into another 
 channel. 
 
 First they had their rural feast, where Sybil's ingenu- 
 ity was called upon in many ways to supply the place of 
 home comfort, and then Yernon, after praising her for 
 her usefulness and activity, suggested that upon their 
 programme her composition should be next placed. 
 
 "What more fitting time could we have," he said,
 
 74 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " than when the Spring herself breathes over us, to 
 read an essay upon her charms ? I suppose that it will 
 be as good as all your compositions are," he continued, 
 " but I think that I must excuse you from saying any- 
 thing original upon the subject." 
 
 "I knew it, I felt it," said Sybil eagerly, "I knew 
 that I could only say what others have said, and so, 
 though perhaps you may not quite like it, I put my 
 thoughts into rhyme as a sort of change from my old 
 beaten track of prose, but you have taught me to keep 
 my ideal of poetry so high, that I am half ashamed of 
 them, and if you do not like my ambitious attempt, I 
 can only promise never more to soar in a region so much 
 beyond my powers." 
 
 Vernon was neither pleased nor displeased, he was 
 simply curious about Sybil's verses, and for the first time 
 for months, he had a passionate yearning for sight, so 
 that he might see her expression, Avhich he felt if it were 
 not one of beauty, must be one of perfect confidence in 
 him and trust in his judgment, but a darkness like the 
 night only answered his impracticable wish. 
 
 The group was a striking one; the ruined church 
 and broken arches, the shaded spot and giant trees, and 
 the grave-yard, upon one of the tombs of which Vernon 
 reclined^ his head resting upon his hand ; then at his feet 
 on a mound, which might have been a grave, sat his 
 companion, trembling, looking up for sympathy, even 
 from those sightless eyes, ere she began the reading of 
 her verses. 
 
 " Stop," said Vernon, as she unfolded the paper, while 
 his old sarcastic mood, almost unbidden, rose to his lips 
 in chilling words ; " the verses must have a name, of
 
 Vernon Grove. 75 
 
 course ; surely something original might have been 
 aimed at there. Have you not called the piece by some 
 such cognomen as this ' The Jubilee of the Year ' or 
 * The Birth of the Verdant Leaves ?' " 
 
 "No," said Sybil, falteringly, while the hot blood 
 dyed her face crimson, and the paper rustled in her 
 trembling hands, " it is simply Spring-time." 
 
 "Read on," he said, and obediently she read what 
 she had written : 
 
 "God of the hours, God of these golden hours! 
 
 My heart o'erflows with love 
 
 To Thee, who giv'st with liberal hand these flowers; 
 To Thee, who sendest cool, delicious showers 
 Fresh from the founts above. 
 
 "God of the hours, the fleeting, checkered time, 
 
 When nature smiles and weeps, 
 Thou paintest sunset clouds with hues sublime, 
 Thou tunest bird-notes to the joyous chime 
 That all creation keeps. 
 
 "Pale emerald trees, how gracefully ye twine 
 
 Around your boughs a wreath ; 
 Or does some angel hand, with touch divine, 
 Bring from celestial bowers your verdure fine 
 
 To deck the bowers beneath ? 
 
 "How silently your leaflets, old and brown, 
 
 On undulating wings, 
 
 In autumn months, came floating, floating down, 
 To form a carpet as they formed a crown 
 
 For you, ye forest kings ! 
 
 "Well may ye bend with proud and haughty sweep, 
 
 For sunbeams love to lie 
 
 Upon your boughs ; the breeze ye captive keep, 
 And even the dew-drops, which the night-clouds weep, 
 
 Upon your leaflets die.
 
 76 Vernon Grove. 
 
 11 Last eve the moon on modest twilight beamed, 
 
 And told the stars 'twas Spring I 
 She swept the wave, deliciously it gleamed, 
 She touched the birds, and woke them as they dreamed 
 A lew soft notes to sing. 
 
 ; 'God of the April flowers, how large thy gift 
 
 The rainbow of the skies 
 
 That spans the changing clouds with footsteps swift, 
 And ' rainbows of the earth,' that meekly lift 
 
 To Thee, their glorious eyes. 
 
 1( And not content with flowers rich and fair 
 
 Thou givest perfume, too, 
 That loads with burden sweet the tender air, 
 And comes to fill the heart with rapture rare, 
 
 Each blushing morn anew. 
 
 1 God of the Spring-time hours, what give we Thee 
 
 While thus Thou bounteous art ? 
 Thou owest us nought, we owe Thee all we see 
 Enjoyments, hope, thought, health, eternity, 
 
 The life-beat of each heart. 
 
 1 This morn came birds, on pinions bright and fleet, 
 
 /Y lullaby to sing 
 
 To Winter as he slept, but other voices sweet 
 The low dirge drowned, and warbled carol, meet 
 To greet the waking Spring. 
 
 ' Thus trees, and birds, and buds, and skies conspire 
 
 To speak unto the heart, 
 
 1 Renew thy strength ; be fresh ; be pure ; desire 
 To be new-touched with purifying lire, 
 
 That Evil's growth depart.'
 
 Vernon Grove. 77 
 
 " God of the heavens ! from our bosoms blow 
 
 The sin-leaves, and plant flowers 
 Bedewed by gentlest rains, that they may show, 
 How tended by thy love alone they grow, 
 God of these golden hours !" 
 
 Gradually Vernon's face was turned away from Sybil's 
 view, for he did not care that she should see what was 
 impressed thereon. Interest, and wonder at the correct 
 collocation of words, had given place to a softened mood, 
 which moistened his eves and busied his mind in retro- 
 spection, and the words, 
 
 " Renew thy strength ; be fresh ; be pure ; desire 
 To be new-touched with purifying fire, 
 That Evil's growth depart," 
 
 woke a strange chord of yearning in his breast, to be 
 pure, and fresh, and strong. Words were not at his 
 command just yet, and after a minute's pause he turned 
 to speak, to criticise the verses, as Sybil seemed to be 
 waiting for praise or blame, but his intention was 
 interrupted by the words, "hush, hush," and Sybil's 
 moving nearer to him and checking him with a cautious 
 whisper. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Vernon," she said in the same guarded 
 voice, " if you could only see it, only see the bird that 
 lias alighted on one of the arches! It cannot belong to 
 our woods at all, for I have never beheld another like it. 
 So bright and gorgeous is it, as the sun glances upon it 
 while it peacefully folds its wings, that one can scarcely 
 help fancying that it is the guardian angel of this spot, 
 or some spirit in disguise watching over the dead." 
 
 " Oh !" whispered Vernon, in return, the excitement
 
 78 Vernon Grove. 
 
 of a sportsman shining on his face, "a bird, did you say, 
 not common to these woods ! Oh, for one moment's 
 sight to these blind eyes ! Sybil, child, run noiselessly 
 to John and bid him bring hither his loaded gun ; I had 
 forgotten for an instant what a good marksman he is, 
 and that he never misses aim." 
 
 Sybil's face flushed for shame, and she stood rooted 
 to the spot. What ! kill that bird that .like an angel of 
 peace stood poised above them ; never, while she could 
 prevent it. Kill it for a mere sportsman's love of game 
 or an idle curiosity ! the thought was desecration, and 
 her spirit grew bold in the exigency. 
 
 " You would not, you could not kill that bird," she 
 said with passionate pleading, " it seems as if it were 
 never made to die, at least by hand of man ; never did 
 a king wear such a jewelled crown as its glittering crest. 
 To kill it would be wanton cruelty, and would, in my 
 estimation, gratify no feeling but a base and unworthy 
 one." 
 
 " You speak as if you were the special protectress of 
 the bird," said Vernon in low smothered tones, and in 
 his turn excited ; " because it is so beautiful and pecu- 
 liar, is the very reason why I must and will have it." 
 
 Must and will! Sybil trembled for the unconscious 
 creature. 
 
 "Think of the holy place," she whispered again) 
 glancing around, " of that solemn church, of these 
 graves, of the little children sleeping around ; think of 
 this home of Death desecrated by an unholy sound, pol- 
 luted by a senseless act! Oh, Mr. Veraon, call it 
 romance if you will, ridicule it, pour upon me your 
 anger and indignation, but for this time grant me my
 
 Vernon Grove. 79 
 
 wish and spare that feeble life. There, thank heaven, it 
 lifts its wings as if about to fly, and will soon be safe 
 from your cruelty ; but no, it only turns its beautiful 
 arched neck to the sunlight, and pleads for life and 
 liberty with a song." 
 
 Truly Vernon's evil spirit was in the ascendant, and 
 a demon seemed to urge him on. Thrusting Sybil has- 
 tily but gently away, he arose, and in a subdued but 
 audible voice, called to his servant, who was at some 
 distance, to load his gun and hasten thither. 
 
 Then a storm of anger shook Sybil's slight frame. 
 Her will, " full statured," showed itself in her lightning 
 glance. Fiercely the fire of scorn flashed from her eyes, 
 and her words dropped like hot lava upon a plain. 
 
 " Mr. Vernon," she said, imperatively, taking a strange 
 sort of pleasure in uttering the scorn that welled in such 
 an endless stream to her lips, " Mr. Vernon, it has come 
 to this ; you have taken your resolution, 7", mine. That 
 bird shall not die, shall not be wantonly destroyed, and 
 the moment that sees John approach with loaded gun 
 one step this way, sees also the bird frightened away 
 from his resting place by me, floating far out of the 
 reach of the best marksman's aim." 
 
 " How dare you thwart my will ?" returned he pas- 
 sionately, " how dare you put your weak child-nature 
 in opposition to mine ?" 
 
 " I dare," she said, her heart beating wildly and her 
 voice trembling with the storm that had shaken her, 
 " because I think that I am in the right ; because the 
 bird is happy, and the place holy ; and again I dare," 
 said she, in softened accents, "because what a sister 
 could say to a brother, that alone have I said to you."
 
 80 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Then she put her slight hand kindly in between Ver- 
 non's clenched fingers in a caressing way, not knowing 
 whether he would let it remain or rudely cast it away, 
 but her silent prayer was heard, and it lay not rejected, 
 but safe under that broad strong palm, like a nestling 
 under the parent-bird's wing. 
 
 But ah, who could turn away from Sybil's offered 
 hand ! Vernon did not, but crushing it softly in his, he 
 said gently, " You have conquered ; my little sister has 
 conquered a proud, rough, unfeeling man, who came 
 well nigh forgetting in his madness a promise which 
 he called upon heaven to witness. Let the bird live !" 
 
 Sybil looked up as he spoke, but it was no longer 
 upon the broken arch. Soaring far, far away, she 
 beheld it till it was lost to sight in the cloudless sky, 
 its mission over that ruined church, whatever it might 
 have been, being accomplished.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Like an enfranchised bird, who wildly springs, 
 
 "With a keen sparkle in his glancing eye, 
 And a strong effort in his quivering wings, 
 Up to the blue vault of the happy sky 
 So my enamored heart so long thine own, 
 
 At length from Love's imprisonment set free, 
 Goes forth into the open world alone, 
 Glad and exulting in its liberty." 
 
 MRS. NORTON. 
 
 " Hopes and fears. 
 
 Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge, 
 Look down on what ? a fathomless abyss." 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 SYBIL bought her triumph of will at a dear price, it 
 would seem, for Vernon was moody and silent during 
 the homeward ride, and for a week scarcely noticed her 
 music or the progress she was making in her studies. 
 She tried two or three times to break the gloomy spell 
 around him by uttering some playful remark, or trilling 
 a bird-like song, but all was to no purpose. She felt 
 that they were widely severed in disposition, purpose, 
 and thought, and that he had asked her an impossible 
 thing when he desired she might be his sister, for to a 
 sister a brother's heart was open, but against her he 
 had closed his with an impenetrable barrier of reserve 
 and coldness. 
 
 As for Vernon, he scarcely knew himself the cause of 
 4*
 
 82 Vernon Grove. 
 
 liis gloomy or rather thoughtful mood, but rested upon 
 the idea that it was a phase which would pass away 
 with a change of weather. If any one had told him that 
 he was thoughtful, because a child had stirred the stag- 
 nant waters of his soul by speaking truths to him which 
 he had never dwelt upon, or thought of at all, except 
 vaguely, had any one told him that the self-examination 
 with which he was probing his spirit originated in the 
 conversation of Sybil and the religious tenor of her 
 verses, he would have been startled at the idea. He, 
 the selfish man, tried in vain to shake off the master 
 spirit of thought that merged at length into severe self- 
 investigation, but heaven has many ways of sowing the 
 good seed ; the wind may blow it, or it may drop by 
 chance upon the ground, not that Vernon's soul was 
 ready for the planting, for hardened by frost and ice, it 
 opened not yet to the sower. It was this unsatisfactory 
 state of things, and the knowledge of it in part, that kept 
 him cold towards others and discontented with himself. 
 
 A letter from Linwood at last broke the spell, and as 
 Vernon handed it to Sybil to read to him, one of his 
 old rare smiles overspread his countenance, for his love 
 for his absent friend was one of the bright spots in his 
 character. 
 
 Sybil drew back as he pressed the letter upon her 
 and hesitated. 
 
 "Should I, ought I, to read it?" she asked, "Mr. 
 Linwood is a stranger to me, and there may be some- 
 thing in his letter which I ought not to see." 
 
 " You misjudge Linwood," answered Vernon warmly, 
 "he has a mind as pure as a child's, and you will find 
 nothing unworthy in what he has written."
 
 Vernon Grove. 83 
 
 " I did not mean that? replied Sybil blushing, " I 
 only imagined that he might deem me prying or officious, 
 for a letter from friend to friend is a sacred thing." 
 
 " In that case," answered Vernon, " I promise to be 
 peacemaker, but pray do not keep me in suspense any 
 longer, I am anxious to hear what he has written." 
 
 Thus urged, Sybil demurred no longer, fearing a 
 return of Vemon's displeasure and consequent coldness, 
 and opening the letter, which was post-marked Florence, 
 she thus began : 
 
 "DEAR VERNON: 
 
 " As you i'eared never to become accustomed to the necessary third 
 person, you made me promise to write to you only in extreme cases 
 that is, if I ever found myself supremely happy or supremely miser- 
 able ; as the former sensation is pre-eminently in the ascendant now, 
 I can refrain no longer from imparting to you some of my experiences, 
 and from telling you how, each day, a prayer ascends from my heart 
 to heaven for the welfare of my generous friend. 
 
 " You have opened to me a new field of beauty, such as I never 
 dreamed of, both in the province of art and nature. My eyes feast on 
 loveliness, my heart beats with fuller pulsations than in my own land. 
 I feel that I am treading on enchanted ground, and associations from 
 the past come thronging in endless procession from the chambers of 
 my brain. Oh, Vernon, to have seen the Lake of Como, the Cathedrals, 
 the Laocoon, St. Peter's, and the paintings and statuary in the old 
 world, is to have lived no ordinary life. 
 
 " I might go on enumerating the beauties which arise on every side, 
 but I know that with you it would be familiar ground, and might 
 weary you, still I could not help feeling that you ought to have a 
 realizing sense of my deep thankfulness, and it is for this merely that 
 I write to you. 
 
 " When I think of your sympathy, which will meet me on my 
 return when we can talk over my experiences, I am doubly grateful 
 to God that you were permitted to see this world-wide panorama of 
 wonders, and that you have travelled from snow-crowned Russia to
 
 84 Vernon Grove. 
 
 the vineyards of beautiful Spain. Even in your blindness you could 
 never be entirely lonely, for after a visit to Europe memory would 
 ever be a busy companion. 
 
 " To me this living in the past is enchanting, and of course to the 
 artist-mind the enjoyment is double. It seems to me, too, that I 
 would never have cared to journey abroad, unless I had received a 
 refined education, so that I might appreciate every classical allusion, 
 and feel at home in history. There are men around me now, ignorant, 
 soulless men, in whom the curves of an exquisite piece of sculpture 
 rouse no feeling of admiration, whose eyes see no glory in an Italian 
 sunset, who travel merely because it is fashionable, and in whom no 
 grateful religious thought is awakened. False men are they, Vernon ; 
 and, oh, if I could only sit by you for an hour, I could tell you how the 
 sight of all this beauty, natural and artistic, appeals to my religious 
 nature, and how my heart beats more fervently to God and man, and 
 my whole soul is bared to receive divine influences from heaven. No, 
 I have not come here, even as regards my spiritual welfare, in vain. 
 
 " I have painted one work since my arrival in Florence, which the 
 critics honor me by praising very much. It is an ideal, my ideal of a 
 perfectly beautiful woman, and I call it my Inspiration. Need I tell 
 you, my friend, that I mean it to be yours when I return ? Would 
 that you could see it, and criticise it, for upon your judgment I have 
 ever depended ; but I will not murmur, for I believe that all of God's 
 dispensations are for the best. 
 
 " Send me a line through your amanuensis, if you do not incline to 
 forward a longer communication, and tell me something of your welfare, 
 if you are still in the country, and whether you have any compa- 
 nions. 
 
 " Yours, in ah 1 sincerity, 
 
 "ALBERT LlXWOOD." 
 
 " I should like to know him," said Sybil quietly, as she 
 refolded the letter. 
 
 " And why ? asked Vernon. 
 
 As a man of the world Vernon had used that little 
 monosyllable with great effect ; it had been more pow- 
 erful than many words, and joined with a sympathizing
 
 Vernon Grove. 85 
 
 look of interest in his fine eyes, had extracted many a 
 confession which would otherwise have remained unre- 
 vealcd, and now the force of habit led him to use it still. 
 There is often magic in one word, calling out many in 
 answer. 
 
 "Because," was the reply, "it seems to me that I 
 would like to talk to him, and tell him of my faults ; still 
 better, too, would I love to hear him speak of that religion 
 which he prizes so much. Ah, if he had sisters, how 
 happy they must be." 
 
 What an incentive was this to any one who loved 
 Sybil, to be worthy in her eyes. 
 
 " It is worth the trying," thought Vernon ; but think- 
 ing on his part, in the present instance, was far from 
 acting. 
 
 Not many days after this, Vernon summoned Sybil 
 to his side, and told her that the time had arrived when 
 she could be really useful to him, and that he had some 
 work for her to do ; he wanted her to answer Linwood's 
 letter. Such an appeal she could not escape from, and 
 she sat down and wrote under his direction the following 
 words : 
 
 "You are astonished, dear Albert, at this ladylike hand- writing, 
 instead of John's bold chirography, but 'tis only little Sybil Gray's, 
 who writes at my dictation, therefore be mystified no longer. Now, 
 Sybil is the granddaughter of my mother's early friend, Mrs. Gordon, 
 both of whom have, at my invitation, made my house their home. 
 Mrs. Gordon, when her health allows her, is an admirable manager in 
 my bachelor establishment, and Sybil has masters, gathers flowers, 
 dresses the vases, and, as you see, writes for the dismal blind gentleman. 
 
 " I cannot express to you how much pleasure your letter gave me, 
 and now that I have Sybil as writer and reader of our correspondence, 
 lot me hear frcm you often, and do not be particular about the
 
 86 Vernon Grove. 
 
 number of your sheets, for the dear child's good nature will bear her 
 through them all, even if their name were legion. 
 
 " You ask me about myself; I think, I know that I am happier than 
 when you were here. I can trace this change to no particular cause, 
 yet on the whole I enjoy life more, human nature seems better, and I 
 am not quite the worldling that you left me. I begin to be reconciled 
 in some slight degree to my misfortune, and sometimes, remember, 
 Linwood, only sometimes, I even bring myself to regard it as a blessing 
 for, had I still retained my sight after that terrible fever, I might 
 have remained in the city, constantly in the presence of her whom I 
 have by this means avoided ; and so weak is the human heart, that even 
 knowing what she is even having seen her unmasked her wonderful 
 beauty and fascination might have bound me to her prisoner for life, 
 whereas there is now no danger in absence, and, oh, Linwood, reflect 
 upon the almost hell upon earth that I should have endured had 
 I passed my life" 
 
 Sybil made a movement that arrested Vernon's words 
 she rose from the table and laid down her pen. She 
 was embarrassed beyond measure; she thought that 
 Vernon had lost sight of the fact that she was writing, 
 and not he himself; and she was an unwilling listener to 
 the secrets of that proud heart, and interrupted him by 
 reminding him that his letter was too much of a personal 
 nature for her to continue writing it. " You forget, that 
 I know nothing," she began, but she was not allowed 
 to proceed, for Vernon silenced her with words which 
 rendered her mute. 
 
 '' Xo, Sybil, I do not forget anything; an irresistible 
 impulse leads me to tell you that part of my life's history, 
 which I have more than once alluded to in your presence, 
 and to which you are a stranger. I know not why it is 
 that I thus make you the confidant of my mosfr sacred 
 experiences ; I know not if your eyes are gentle and
 
 Vernon Grove. 87 
 
 compassionate, and yet they must be, Sybil ; I know 
 not why I am led to unfold my inner nature to the 
 scrutiny of a young girl who knows nothing of the 
 world and its passions, but it would seem that a kind 
 of fate, from which there is no escape, drives me on, and 
 it is your destiny to listen." 
 
 " Florence Percy," he continued, after a slight pause, 
 " is my sister's dearest friend ; it was natural then, that 
 with such a tie between them, I should be constantly 
 thrown into her society. She was an orphan with no 
 one to guide her but an aunt, whose life was one tissue 
 of fashionable folly. When I say that Florence Avas a 
 fit scholar for so apt a teacher, I exaggerate nothing ; 
 but unaware of her faults at the time when I first made 
 her acquaintance, her beauty which is fitting for a 
 queen and her winning manners, captivated me, and 
 made me her willing slave. The old proverb says, that 
 ' Love is blind,' but more blind than I am now bodily 
 
 was I to her defects; mad and blind until, but I 
 
 will not anticipate, Sybil, you shall hear the story from 
 beginning to end. 
 
 " Florence was poor and yet she loved wealth better 
 than life itself; ' rather die,' I doivbt not was her motto, 
 ' than be deprived of certain luxuries and comforts.' To 
 struggle to keep up appearances was her one great object, 
 and she was determined that her impoverished and 
 aristocratic race should yet flourish through her means 
 among the wealthy of the land. 
 
 " She chose me, then, as her instrument, her victim, 
 and threw her wiles around my unsuspecting nature. 
 I need not tell you that I am rich, you must see it by the 
 style in which I live, by my retinue of servants, and my
 
 88 Vernoh Grove. 
 
 lavish expenditure of money, and she knew it knew my 
 income, and laid her plans. 
 
 " We met almost daily in my sister's house, and as it 
 was her great ambition that Florence and I should even- 
 tually be married, we had many opportunities of becoming 
 conversant with each other's tastes and opinions. Isabel 
 loved and loves Florence Avith a blind infatuation which 
 is second only to Avhat mine was, although I must do 
 her the justice to say, that she never knew the extent of 
 the plot laid by her fascinating friend. 
 
 " When I look back upon that eventful period of my 
 life, it seems to me that I must have been living in a 
 dream not to have discovered the base motives which 
 actuated the conduct of Florence. Affection for me 
 she had not ; 'cold, passionless, calculating, I scarcely 
 think that any one could inspire her with love, and yet 
 what a masterpiece of acting was her feigned joy in my 
 presence, while she had but one passion ; to that she 
 bowed as a heathen to his idol, and that passion was to 
 lift the fallen fortunes of the Percy family. 
 
 " I have sometimes in my earlier years dreamed that 
 I might be loved dreamed of a home where a gentle 
 wife, with loving children at her feet, would greet me at 
 my fireside ; that that home would be little short of a 
 heaven, while Florence Percy would be the angel of my 
 Paradise ; but, alas ! how was I mistaken ! Sybil, look 
 at me, is there anything chilling or repulsive about me ? 
 Now, indeed, there may be with these closed sightless 
 eyes, but fancy me in the prime of youth and health, 
 with a happy buoyant temperament, think you not that 
 then I might have inspired love ?" 
 
 He waited not for Sybil's answer, but hurried on.
 
 Vernon Grove. 89 
 
 " I remember the time when the truth first came to me, 
 not with the crash of a storm, crushing me with its 
 suddenness, but with only a certain foreshadowing of 
 evil. We were not publicly engaged, the word had not 
 been quite spoken, for we were waiting for her aunt's 
 return from Europe to sanction our love, but she expected 
 the question to be asked which would make her my 
 betrothed, and I intended it. I had told her, however, 
 that I loved hei-, and I had heard the blessed words that 
 I was in return beloved by her ; I had pictured our future 
 home, where, not the least among the changes that were 
 to happen to me, I was to become, under her guidance, a 
 useful pious man. She had received many presents 
 from my hands of great value, and had worn dia- 
 monds which were my gift. In the meantime our 
 mornings were spent together, and our evenings in 
 the round of amusements that a crowded city always 
 affords. 
 
 " One day we were seated in Isabel's luxurious parlor, 
 with the light of the room softened to that mellow shade 
 which is so becoming to a complexion like hers, and I 
 had never seen the beauty of Florence displayed to such 
 advantage ; I even mutely thanked God for the creation 
 of such wondrous perfection, and that I was permitted 
 to behold it. I have not told you that she was a clear 
 brunette, and that the crowning grace to her fair face was 
 a rich glowing color on her cheeks, which gave additional 
 lustre to her superb eyes. On the morning of which I 
 am speaking, she was dressed simply, yet carefully, while 
 her glossy dark hair, unadorned, was to me more beautiful 
 than if encircled with a diadem of brilliants. In passing 
 I must mention that her dress usually was anything but
 
 90 Vernon Grove. 
 
 simple, for her love of display showed itself forcible in 
 her toilet arrangements. 
 
 "Her quiet morning robe, with its loose hanging 
 sleeves, disclosed an arm which was faultless in its pro- 
 portions, and as she held it towards me that I might 
 clasp around it a ruby bracelet of curious workmanship, 
 her eyes, ah, those glorious eyes beamed with the 
 light of what I thought was love deep, unchangeable, 
 grateful love to the donor, but which circumstances 
 have showed to be only the love of gems and of display. 
 
 " Lovers are proverbially eloquent, and I was pictur- 
 ing to her how her aifection brightened my life, and how 
 I wished that all our days might be as tranquil and 
 happy as that which was passing, when she whispered 
 in return that it would be the study of her existence to 
 make me happy, and that she had no wish in life which 
 was not breathed in reference to me ! Emboldened by 
 this delicious confession, I told her playfully that I would 
 put her upon trial, and then altering my tone to a serious 
 one, I remarked that she had it in her power to grant 
 me a favor, a speck in comparison with the sacrifices 
 of a lifetime. It was only this, that, instead of attend- 
 ing a famous ball which was to be given in the evening, 
 she would spend the hours at home quietly with me. 
 
 "An almost imperceptible frown passed over her 
 brow as I said these simple and not very exacting words ; 
 but the smile that succeeded was more brilliant for the 
 sudden shadow that had preceeded it, and with all the 
 apparent love of a loving heart gathered in her earnest 
 eyes, which looked straight into mine, as I knelt before 
 her, with her lips all rosy in their freshness, and her 
 voice tender with affectionate words, she bent towards
 
 Vernon Grove. 91 
 
 me, and laying her perfect hand upon mine, promised 
 what I had asked. 
 
 " Just then Isabel entered from a walk, glowing with 
 health and excitement, and full of some important intel- 
 ligence. I can scarcely think that she meant to pain me 
 by what followed, and I can attribute her words only to 
 that fearful proclivity which women have to making con- 
 quests, and in having those in whom they are interested 
 count their triumphs in numbers. 
 
 " ' I have glorious news for you, Florence,' she said, 
 * you have gained another conquest by that queenly 
 beauty of yours ; you have made Lord Cummings your 
 slave for life. He could talk of nothing else this mom- 
 ing but your superb air, your divine eyes, and the mid- 
 night gleaming of your ebon locks. To be sure, it is in 
 rather a vulgar way that he swears you are an angel, 
 but that we must excuse in a titled man; by-the-by, 
 with a little French expletive, he made me promise to 
 take you to Mrs. Maitland's to-night, and you must go,' 
 then turning to me as I made a gesture of impatience, 
 she continued : ' Now, Richard, for shame, I verily 
 believe you are jealous ; my lord is awkward, you are 
 refined and graceful ; my lord is a fright, and you, you 
 know, are a beauty;' then \varbling a lively air, she 
 threw herself at the feet of Florence in a beseeching atti- 
 tude. 
 
 "I was jealous, maddened, but I kept silence and 
 waited for the result, incensed against the presumptuous 
 stranger, but secure in the constancy of my peerless 
 Florence, upon whom I gazed, almost sure of her reply. 
 What had transformed her so ? Her cheeks glowed 
 with a crimson which I had never yet seen kindled
 
 92 Vernon Grove. 
 
 there ; her eyes sparkled with delight, and she uttered 
 a joyous exclamation ; then, as if remembering herself, 
 she said to Isabel, ' But it is not so easy to meet him at 
 Mrs. Haitian d's, for I have just promised Richard to 
 stay at home with him, Darby and Joan fashion !' 
 
 " ' Should you indeed like to go ?' I said calmly, 
 though with a volcano raging within my heart. ' If you 
 would, pray do not consider yourself bound to me, and 
 do not let a whim of mine keep you at home.' 
 
 " ' Oh, if it is only a whim,' she returned, twisting my 
 bracelet-gift upon her arm with her long slender fingers 
 that she might examine it more minutely, ' then I would 
 like to go.' 
 
 " ' As you please,' said I coldly, and she went ! and 
 so the first link was broken, and so, at length, were all. 
 Yes, she went to the ball and met my Lord Cummiiigs. 
 His fortune, the world said, doubled mine; he wore 
 finer diamonds ; he sported carriages and horses unequal- 
 led in the land ; he paid his court to the queenly beauty, 
 and was accepted. It was then, that with a constitution 
 predisposed, by the excitement under which I labored, 
 to fever, I was taken ill with an epidemic which was 
 raging, and which, though it affected many only slightly, 
 prostrated me almost to the grave, and left me blind, 
 with no hope of restoration to sight. 
 
 " After my recovery from this illness, many friends 
 came kindly to break the monotony of my darkened 
 chamber, and among others a young man, who had been 
 sported with awhile by Miss Percy, and then rejected. 
 This man I know to be true, and partly in bitterness of 
 spirit but chiefly in revenge for the treatment he had 
 received, for men are affected differently by a rejection,
 
 Vernon Grove. 93 
 
 some turning to melancholy, some maddened and reck- 
 less, and others careless and light-hearted still he, in 
 revenge, and ignorant of my attachment to Florence, 
 told me, wantonly and only to show her off in the worst 
 possible light, of a speech that he had heard her make ; 
 it w r as this, mark it, Sybil, and it will be a key to the 
 character of the woman who might have been my wife : 
 ' Well, what matters it ? Though he has lost his sight, 
 he has not lost his fortune !' 
 
 " From that moment my love turned into scorn, my 
 scorn to indifference. You may like to hear the sequel ; 
 my Lord Cummings proved to be an adventurer, a fortune- 
 hunter, and he had mistaken Florence for a cousin of 
 hers who was an heiress. When he found out his mis- 
 take, he disappeared no one knows whither, and Florence 
 was left to her own wholesome reflections. Since then 
 she has not been much sought in society ; but still her 
 glorious beauty remains to dazzle a few lingering wor- 
 shippers, who, however, have the misfortune to be too 
 poor to be rewarded by her hand. 
 
 " I have not met her since her engagement to 
 Gumming, but strange to say, Isabel is devoted to her, 
 and even dreams of her being my wife and her sister ; 
 and she in her turn repays Isabel by her admiration and 
 flattery. 
 
 " I have suffered, you see, Sybil, almost more than 
 my share, and you must bear with my mood when you 
 think that I am morose and gloomy ; sometimes, indeed, 
 I may be both naturally, but oftener that selfish depres- 
 sion of spirits under which you see me laboring, is the 
 memory of the past, rising up in wave after wave of 
 bitter feeling, which will not be stilled by any endeavor
 
 94 Vernon Grove. 
 
 on my part. You wished the other clay for some mis- 
 fortune, some temptation to ripple the calm current of 
 your days. Oh, Sybil, you know not what you asked. 
 But I am sure that you need no experience in suffering 
 in order to make you feel for others, and sympathise 
 with them in their sorrows, and the thought of this is 
 why I disclose mine to you." 
 
 Sybil drew a long breath, and the tears came into her 
 eyes; she had wept over romances often, but here, 
 before her, was a man who had loved and suffered ; here 
 w r as something real, something that she knew was true, 
 and she looked pityingly upon one who had now in her 
 eyes assumed the dignity of a hero. She longed to show 
 him in some way how truly she felt for him in his 
 double bereavement, but knew not how. 
 
 "Sybil, tell me," asked Vernon anxiously, "is not 
 mine a tale of many sorrows ? Come near me, and say 
 to me that you think that I am not to be disappointed 
 in you, too. I w r ant no maledictions showered upon the 
 head of Florence Percy ; I care not even to bring to 
 mind the thought of her terrible retribution, or that 
 Dante has placed in the ' lowest deep of the lowest deep ' 
 those who have betrayed trust : only speak to me, say 
 one word of comfort, one earnest word. Sybil, friend, 
 sister, fail me not now, but give me what I need more 
 than parched traveller a cooling draught, give me your 
 sympathy." 
 
 Sybil rose and approached him where he sat, and then 
 with no syllable of comfort but with a heavy sob and 
 shower of tears upon his outstretched hands, she wept 
 because he had suffered so ; and Vernon was grateful for 
 those tears, and understood their meaning almost better
 
 Vernon Grove. 95 
 
 than if they had been words. He had never seen Flo- 
 rence weep, her artificial nature had never been thus 
 moved, and he knew that the fount of feeling which was 
 the source of tears must be deep indeed. 
 
 " Poor child !" he said, as Sybil knelt before him, her 
 hands clasped in his ; " I did not mean to move you so, 
 you must weep no more, at least not for me, but you 
 must spare your tears for your future self; for suffering 
 is the condition under which we live and breathe, and 
 you know not what the coming years may have in store 
 for you." 
 
 But Sybil still wept on ; the sight of that disappointed, 
 blind, forsaken man, was a deeper tragedy than what 
 the books ever told her of a story whose last page 
 ended very sadly. 
 
 Then Vernon smoothed back her long luxuriant hair 
 tenderly, and drew her nearer to him until he felt her 
 breath upon his bowed face, and a passionate prayer for 
 her welfare escaped from his lips. " Oh, God," he said, 
 " spare her, shield her ; let not my fate be hers ; pour 
 upon me any amount of suffering, but let misfortune pass 
 her by, and, above all, guard her against a sorrow such 
 as mine." 
 
 Vernon prayed it was something unusual ; not indeed 
 for himself did he pray, but for Sybil, kneeling before 
 him, her bright face uplifted to his, and her hands fast 
 locked in his strong grasp ; then her voice broke the 
 silence which followed that earnest appeal to a higher 
 power, and it came to his ears like the voice of an angel 
 answering his prayer. 
 
 " I would talce your sorrow from you, if I could" 
 she said, " and bear it for you."
 
 96 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "What could mortal ask more than this, what need had 
 he of closer sympathy ? Life could record no instance 
 of greater sacrifice than such as she had offered. 
 
 " God, I thank thee," he exclaimed, while his frame 
 trembled at those simple words from the kneeling girl, 
 " thou hast at last sent to me what my soul has most 
 needed through three long dreary years, the gift of per- 
 fect sympathy." But even as Vernon spoke, a bright 
 crimson flushed his face, and a terrible revelation came 
 to him ; he loved her loved her kneeling and weeping 
 there. The truth came like a knife, cleaving heart and 
 brain ; no doubt no shadow of suspicion of the nature 
 of his feelings came to question him as to their sincerity. 
 Florence he had loved for her beauty, and what she 
 might have been to him when the gloss of fashion had 
 given place to domestic ties, but Sybil he loved for her- 
 self, for what she was. She might be as beautiful as an 
 angel, or almost repulsive in appearance ; these considera- 
 tions did not affect him ; he only saw the purity of her 
 heart and loved her, ah, how fondly, how truely, she 
 must never know. He would never, he said to himself, 
 be so ungenerous as to throw himself with his blindness 
 and blighted life, his soured temper and uncongenial 
 disposition, upon her mercy ; no, he would not sacrifice 
 upon the shrine of his selfishness that young budding 
 life, that pure lovely heart ; to keep his affection all 
 untold, to educate her, to bestow upon her every grace 
 that wealth could bring, and then to yield her calmly in 
 after years to another with the outward quietness of a 
 brother, even when there would be a mad worship burn- 
 ing on the altar of his heart within, would be the crown- 
 ing suffering of his life, his last terrible sacrifice.
 
 Vernon Grove. 97 
 
 But love, love, man is impotent when entering the 
 lists against thee, and what a tyrant thou art ! Vernon 
 struggled bravely and well, but there came hours in that 
 long and intimate intercourse when his secret would rush 
 from his heart to his very lips, and only by strong per- 
 severing will be kept prisoner there, and each day and 
 month grew with a mighty strength that pure devoted 
 passion for one who, he had determined, should be to 
 him for ever, as far as word or act of his was concerned, 
 only his well-beloved sister, his little Sybil Gray. 
 
 But to return to the systematic development of our 
 story. The sheet lay unfinished on the table ; with one 
 strong effort of self-control, he put her, whom he longed 
 to clasp to his beating, lonely, yearning heart, away 
 from him, and requested her calmly to finish it. Sybil 
 obeyed, and wrote again at his dictation, folded, sealed, 
 and directed the letter half mechanically, wondered in 
 her young and innocent heart at the baseness of Florence, 
 wiped her tear-stained face, and then left Vernon to 
 attend to the wants of her grandmother. 
 5
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 in Italy ? Is this the Mincius ? 
 Are those the distant turrets of Verona ? 
 And shall I sup where Juliet at the masque 
 Saw her loved Montague, and now sleeps by him ? 
 Such questions hourly do I ask myself; 
 And not a stone, in a cross-way, inscribed 
 ' To Mantua' ' To Ferrara' but excites 
 Surprise and doubt, and self-congratulation. 
 Italy, how beautiful thou artl" 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 SYBIL saw with heart-felt anguish that Mrs. Gordon 
 drooped daily more and more ; she was, of course, under 
 the care of a physician who paid her regular visits, but 
 hers was a decay of nature which no physician could 
 heal. Her seat by the fireside, or by the open window 
 in the more genial days of summer, had been exchanged 
 for her own apartment, and Sybil noticed with regret, 
 that her mind, which had been for so long a time firm 
 and energetic, was showing unmistakable signs of decay 
 and imbecility. 
 
 Her memory, too, which had been so well stored with 
 dates and anecdotes of the past, failed from day to day, 
 and she scarcely seemed to be conscious of those around 
 her who ministered to her hourly wants. The most 
 cheering view of her decline was, that she suffered no 
 pain, but Sybil would often retire to the retreat of her
 
 Vernon Grove. 99 
 
 own room with tearful eyes when she saw that her grand- 
 mother failed to recognise her, or called her by her 
 mother's name, or by that of some friend of her childhood. 
 
 Although Mrs. Gordon had ceased to recognise her 
 grandchild, and knew no difference between her kind 
 attentions and those of the domestic, Sybil's constant 
 ministrations ceased not ; she always dedicated to her 
 the larger part of her mornings, and reserved her after- 
 noons for her daily walks with Vernon, while her evenings 
 alone were devoted to study. Faithful to each avocation 
 she proved, and Vernon looked forward with scarcely 
 restrained impatience through his long solitary mornings 
 to those sweet hours of converse, which were character- 
 ized by subjects always earnest and instructive, as the 
 happy period of his long and weary day. 
 
 A singular state of things had arisen from the part 
 which Sybil had played as amanuensis, for Linwood, in 
 reply to Sybil's letter dictated by Vernon, had addressed 
 his answer to her. This arrangement was agreeable to 
 him in many respects ; first, because he knew that she 
 had never been in Europe, and therefore would not be 
 wearied when what he saw there was his theme, and 
 moreover, because his warm genial heart longed for 
 sympathy, and to the so-called child whom Vernon had 
 described as quick and intelligent, he thought that he 
 might write without reserve, and by that means please 
 Vernon by imparting to her some of his experiences in 
 the world of art. 
 
 As far as Vernon was concerned, he was quite satisfied 
 with the correspondence between his friend and Sybil, 
 and this state of things seemed quite natural to him ; he 
 thought of Linwood only as engrossed in his love of the
 
 loo Vernon Grove. 
 
 occupation he had chosen, without any other of the emo- 
 tions incident to human nature, and contrary to Lin wood's 
 expectations, he heard with pleasure the letters read, 
 although it was all to him beaten ground. Besides it was 
 a positive pleasure to him to recall the scenes which he had 
 visited and enlarge upon them to Sybil, who, with ever- 
 ready attention, listened with increasing interest to the 
 descriptions of that land which is the day-dream of 
 aspiring girlhood. 
 
 At first these letters were simple and formal, and then 
 when Sybil's answers, which were no longer dictated by 
 Vernon, came, showing such a just appreciation of what 
 he had written, and such an interest in all that he saw, 
 such a knowledge of the details of art, and above all so 
 pure a religious faith, Linwood's day was not happily 
 ended unless he had written in his journal to his " little 
 friend;" and soon the words "little friend" were 
 changed to " Sybil," and " dear Sybil," and theories, 
 opinions, and faiths, were discussed, and had they seen 
 and been well acquainted with each other, there could 
 not have been more perfect confidence between two 
 friends of different sexes. 
 
 The change came on so gradually that to the corres- 
 pondents it appeared perfectly natural, while Vernon, 
 deceived like those most concerned, regarded the letters 
 as being merely intended for him, a very agreeable jour- 
 nal of passing events mingled with other subjects of 
 interest, and did not perceive that each " white-winged 
 messenger," sent across the Atlantic, carried a chain with 
 it that linked the young artist and Sybil, with her gentle 
 and loving nature, nearer and yet nearer together. 
 
 " Another letter from Mr. Linwood !" said Sybil one
 
 Vernon Grove. 101 
 
 morning, dropping a bouquet of choice flowers to the 
 ground in her eagerness to receive it, "just what we 
 were wishing for ! There is no small pleasure so great 
 in life as the breaking of a seal, which secures from all 
 other eyes words meant alone for'one's very self.". 
 
 Vernon smiled at her delight, and fully as anxious as 
 herself to hear the contents, besought her to lose no time 
 in reading them. 
 
 " What a fine correspondent he has after all proved," 
 said he ; " you know that I told him never to write 
 except when he was very happy or very wretched, but 
 this I think is his fifth letter." 
 
 Yes, five letters had passed between Linwood and 
 Sybil ; a dangerous number for hearts so young, so sym- 
 pathising as theirs ! 
 
 Sybil read 
 
 " You do not write like a child, dear Sybil, though Vernon calls 
 you one, and I shall persist in taking you with me in imagination to 
 places into which a child would not care to enter, for you appreciate 
 my descriptions so fully, that I feel encouraged to unfold to you more 
 of my wanderings than I would alone to that hard cynical guardian 
 of yours, but I hope that he will condescend to listen to them some- 
 times, and you must assure him, that whether ho desires it or not, ho 
 is always included in what I say and feel. 
 
 "What would I not give to have you both here with me to-day, 
 that we might journey through this thrice beautiful Italy together! I 
 would lead you to its lakes, and lingering around their magic shoiv.s, 
 we would build an air-castle of life there, amid their beautiful scenery, 
 their villas and terraces, their varied trees and picturesque people. 
 Then I would take you by the hand and stand with you in the cathe- 
 dral of Milan, which some traveller from our own country has declared 
 he would rather bring to his native land than anything else in Europe, 
 and we would feel together that it is a temple of God whatever faith 
 it symbolizes, and from your child-heart a prayer would arise, finding
 
 JO2 Vernon Grove. 
 
 its way through its gold and silver, its niches and statuary, to the 
 Christian's home of prayer. 
 
 " I would have you pause before Da Vinci's Last Supper, and sigh 
 witli me over its defaced condition, and then upon Raphael's Spolali- 
 zio, that exquisite gem of highest art. These we certainly would not 
 omit in our pleasure tour. 
 
 " Then we would haste to Venice (no, we would not haste in 
 Italy), and under its skies, in its mysterious streets, to the dipping of 
 oars, you should sing for Vernon and me, with your best accent, some 
 of Italia's own songs. (Are your eyes dark, Sybil, like those of her 
 children?) Then as you see the church of St. Mark's, your voice 
 would be hushed, yourself bewildered by its peculiar beauty, in which 
 the architect has seemed to defy all criticism. 
 
 " From thence I would guide you to the feet of the master-painters 
 of Venice, Titian and Paul Veronese, and many another saint of art, 
 to drink in the beauty of their undying creations. Then we would 
 stand in Verona at Juliet's tomb, and Vernon, with his deep exquisite 
 voice, would bring Shakspeare to our memory, and under the influence 
 of the almost inspired words we would give a sigh to buried love and 
 constancy, and pass on. 
 
 "Then, Sybil, you would forgivje me, if with an artist's worship of 
 such things, I lead you to Parma and Correggio's creations, to his 
 Holy Family and tender Magdalen, and forward to the galleries of 
 Bologna to follow the flights of the immortal Guido in his Sampson 
 and his Crucifixion, and on to the Saint Agnes of Domenichino, and 
 the Saint Cecilia of Raphael, and lastly, over the Appenines to beauti- 
 ful Florence. 
 
 " Were you weary, dear Sybil, with your long and eventful journey, 
 we would pause to rest upon the hill of Fiesole and mark the beauties 
 of the city as it lies stretching out before us like a panorama ; then 
 entering near the Palazzo, we would gaze upon the Fountain of Nep- 
 tune, and in the Tribune pause before the Venus, the Knife-Grinder, 
 and the Wrestlers. 
 
 " Arrived at last at the Gallery, where La Fornarina holds her 
 undisputed sway, I should depend upon your fresh unbiassed impres- 
 sions to recall to Vernon's memory the beauties of Raphael and Titian 
 by your descriptions. 
 
 " But, Sybil, you must not expect me to conduct you in one letter
 
 Vernon Grove. 103 
 
 over the whole of Italy, or even Florence alone ; the path that I have 
 marked out to you in this single epistle, if faithfully trodden, would 
 consume a year, and in Florence itself one could spend years with 
 perfect satisfaction. What mad devotion to science did I think it 
 once, when I heard a naturalist declare that he could remain, with 
 profit to himself, on a desolate island for months, examining the 
 habits of a single fish ; perhaps you would say that I am as thorough 
 a fanatic, were I to tell you that in the study of a single picture by 
 one of the great masters, I could consume a much longer time in 
 Florence. 
 
 "Yernon is more cheerful, then? Who could refrain from being 
 cheerful were he living in the sunny atmosphere which seems to sur- 
 round a certain Sybil Gray ? A heavy trust is yours, my little friend ; 
 guard and guide him well. God, for some wise purpose has afflicted 
 him ; let us not dare to try to lift the curtain which conceals the pur- 
 poses of a higher power, but bend humbly to his will. 
 
 " I forgot to mention that you must not be surprised, if at some 
 time during the latter part of this year I drop down upon you as from 
 the skies, for at times the Switzer's own longing for his native land 
 comes heavily upon me. and I feel that there is no cure but to see my 
 own home once more. 
 
 " Think of me sometimes, dear child, as striving to be and to do 
 good, or I should not be worthy of a place in your pure heart." 
 
 It would be almost superfluous to say that Sybil read 
 these letters of Linwood's with intense pleasure, but it 
 must be understood that they were not ahvays of the 
 character of that which has been transcribed above. 
 Sometimes a single epistle was filled with a description 
 of only one work of art, and then again one would 
 scarcely have imagined, from the entire absence of all 
 allusions to such things, that Albert was a stranger in a 
 strange land, fbr books criticised, people commented 
 upon, and theories discussed, formed the prominent part 
 of his correspondence, and Linwood's written communi- 
 cations really educated Sybil as much as the verbal 
 teachings of Vernon and her masters.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "I will a way 
 
 And gather balm from a sweet forest walk 1 
 There, as the breezes through the branches sweep, 
 Is heard aerial minstrelsy, like harps 
 Untouched, unseen, that on the spirit's ear 
 Pour out their numbers 'till they lull in peace 
 The tumult of the bosom." 
 
 HANNAH GOULD. 
 
 " On the road the lonely road, 
 Under the cold white moon, 
 Under the ragged trees he strode ; 
 There was a step, timed with his own, 
 A figure that stooped and bowed ; 
 A broad white knife, that gleamed and shone 
 Like a splinter of daylight downward thrown, 
 And the moon went under a cloud." 
 
 As Vcrnon became more accustomed to the loss of his 
 sight, and the night in which he groped the footpaths 
 more familiar, and the strange horror of entire darkness 
 less painful, he relinquished occasionally the companion- 
 ship of an attendant, and learned to love the deep solitude 
 of the woods, taking a kind of pride in being able to 
 dispense with the surveillance which always seemed to 
 him to be inseparable from the guidance of his servant. 
 But just as he congratulated himself upon his freedom, 
 an event occurred which made him realize to the full 
 extent his helplessness, and that though of almost
 
 Vernon Grove. 105 
 
 Herculean proportions, his strength now availed him 
 nothing. This lesson he learned, and also with it another, 
 of infinitely more importance ; he learned that he had 
 advanced one step towards self-government, and that his 
 pride of character, wMch was one of his besetting sins, 
 was, in a measure, subdued by the incident which is about 
 to be related. 
 
 On the outskirts of Yernon's land, near the open road, 
 there lay a spring, surrounded by a rustic construction in 
 a most romantic dell, over which hung large, drooping, 
 forest trees, shutting- out the sunlight and making it a 
 quiet and secluded place. The lulling sound of the 
 tinkling water, as it coursed over the pebbles in a 
 succession of endless rivulets, was music to Vernon's 
 ear, and feeling quite at home there, he would dismiss 
 his servant until some stated hour, when either he, or 
 Sybil, freed from her attendance upon her grandmother, 
 sought him and conducted him home. The early stars 
 or twilight moon often found him dreaming there, and 
 his calmest hours of contemplation were spent in this 
 favorite spot. 
 
 One evening as "William Banks, the boy whom Vernon 
 so unfeelingly had caused to be punished, was returning 
 to his home, rather later than usual from his work, he 
 noticed a man of suspicious appearance lingering around 
 the precincts of the spring, and as he was evidently a 
 stranger, he concluded that he could be there for no 
 good purpose, and cautiously following his footsteps, he 
 soon thought that he had discovered the object which 
 had brought him to the place. The man, with noiseless 
 tread, parted the thick branches which grew interlaced 
 around the spring, and peering in, seemed, by the 
 5*
 
 106 Vernon Grove. 
 
 expression of his countenance, satisfied with what he 
 saw therein, and soon disappeared closely followed by 
 William, who, the instant that he had command of the 
 scene unfolded to him, stopped for farther enlightenment 
 as to the intruder's intention. 
 
 He saw that Vernon lay on the soft moss-crowned 
 bank in a deep sleep, the moon lighting up his whole 
 figure, and that the man, stepping forward, approached 
 hnii softly, bending at length over him, as if to ascertain 
 if he were really quite unconscious of his presence. Then 
 William saw farther that he drew a knife from his belt 
 and laid it upon the mound beside him, ready it would 
 appear, to use in an emergency ; next the watcher beheld 
 him deliberately kneel by Vernon, and with some sharp 
 instrument sever his watch from the chain, at last pro- 
 ceeding to rifle his pockets. 
 
 The spectator of this strange bold proceeding, stood 
 for a moment passionless and unmoved there was a 
 memory in his heart which had been burnt there, he 
 feared never to be effaced, it was simply a disgrace, 
 which he, the helpless one, at the mercy of a robber and 
 an assassin, had brought upon him who was a witness of 
 the scene before him, and he felt that he was at last 
 avenged, but it was only for a moment ; his better nature 
 returned to him and he acted accordingly. 
 
 Watching his opportunity, and he had to be circum- 
 spect, feeling that though he was a strong tall lad, he 
 w r as no match for an experienced ruifian, with a knife at 
 his command, he leapt suddenly down into the ravine, 
 and snatching up the knife, w r hich he threw some distance 
 away, caught hold of the kneeling robber's arms, and 
 pinioning them from behind, forcibly held him down.
 
 Vernon Grove. 107 
 
 With a terrible oath the man tried to extricate himself, 
 and Vernon awoke only to grope about bewildered and 
 alarmed. In a voice almost inaudible from the effort, 
 very nearly beyond his strength, which he was making to 
 keep the struggling man in his grasp, William made him 
 understand the state of things, and Vernon, grateful to 
 his rescuer, but unable to be of any service to him, had 
 no other alternative than to call loudly to his servant, 
 whom he expected momently. It would be impossible 
 to describe the tumult of the feeling raging in Vernon's 
 breast as he stood there in his helplessness. Once, it 
 would not have been thus ; trained to feats of strength, 
 surpassing all his companions in agility and skill, and in 
 all that called forth muscular power, stalwart, tall, and 
 commanding, with a breadth of chest that seemed as if 
 it would defy the blows that most men might be able to 
 give it, he chafed like a caged lion, a very Sampson, in an 
 angry inward struggle, but this agony of endurance 
 availed him nothing. Happily, John was at no great 
 distance, and hastened promptly to the spot, where, with 
 the assistance of William, whose strength was now nearly 
 overspent, he succeeded in securing the man. 
 
 He was a hardened-looking ruffian, this intruder upon 
 that peaceful glen, and Vernon discovered that he had but 
 lately been dismissed from the county jail, and becoming 
 acquainted with his secluded habits, had determined to 
 replenish his purse from Vernon's before venturing into 
 the world again. The man, in his confession, owned his 
 intention of killing his victim had he made any resistance, 
 but William's sudden appearance had defeated all his 
 plans. It was thus that the boy, so persecuted once, 
 found himself suddenly raised to a position of importance,
 
 108 Vernon Grove. 
 
 but he looked for no reward or favor from him, who 
 had so cruelly denied all favors at a time when he needed 
 them much more than in the present instance. 
 
 When Sybil heard of Vernon's providential escape, 
 her whole soul lifted itself hi thankful prayer to God for 
 his preservation, but when she learned to whom he had 
 been indebted for his safety, and life perhaps, a glow of 
 triumph lit up her face, for she had long felt a security in 
 the boy's rectitude of character, and she was curious 
 to know how Vernon would act towards his deliverer. 
 Her interest hi William Banks had been of no negative 
 sort, for ever since his disgrace she had been a constant 
 visitor at his mother's cottage, and hi her own gentle 
 way, she had soothed the inmates there by telling them 
 that a first step towards evil was often the last, and that 
 she had not lost confidence in the offender if he felt con- 
 trition for what he had done, and by timely counsel 
 and gifts of books and needful clothing she won the love 
 and respect of the household, and the right to speak 
 encouragingly to the boy. Now she felt that her trust 
 had not been misplaced, for it was this apparent, entire 
 forgetfulness of Vernon's punishment in defending him 
 with so much bravery, which convinced her that the lad 
 was not utterly depraved, and that she had not sown the 
 good seed of advice and sympathy in vain. 
 
 With a strange eager interest she waited for some 
 demonstration of gratitude upon Vernon's part, but that 
 reserve which he knew so well how to assume, was an 
 effectual barrier to everything like confidence, and thus 
 a week passed, a miserable week to Sybil, who feared 
 that, among other faults of character which beset her 
 adopted brother, foremost would be ranked that of in-
 
 Vernon Grove. 1 Q9 
 
 gratitude ; but at the end of the week rather a formal 
 summons from Vernou for her to come to him in the 
 library, made her anticipate that it would lead to some 
 course of action on his part, which would clear him from 
 this new charge. 
 
 " Something is to be done about this lad, this William 
 Banks," he said as she entered his presence, " you know 
 it and I know it, Sybil, what must it be ?" 
 
 Sybil spoke out boldly for the boy. 
 
 " Do what the noble part of your nature bids you," 
 she said. 
 
 " What ! send for this cottager, this boy who but two 
 years ago" 
 
 " Stop, Mr. Vernon," said Sybil, arresting his words 
 with her hand laid upon his arm, " leave that unsaid ; 
 do not speak about what he has been, but what he is." 
 
 Vernon trembled under that light touch, and that 
 gentle rebuke. 
 
 " Well, then," he continued, " you would have me 
 send for this cottager, I know it, though you have not 
 said one word to influence me, but I feel it here in my 
 heart, Sybil, and tell him that I owe him my life, that 
 his bravery was unparalleled, his presence of mind extra- 
 ordinary, and besides this, you would have me reward 
 him by some post of trust and honor is it not so, Sy- 
 bil ?" 
 
 His voice softened as he spoke, and Sybil caught his 
 hand gratefully since eye could not reply to eye, it was 
 but another way of showing her approval of what he 
 had said. 
 
 " You refer this ah 1 to me, Mr. Vernon," she said, " but 
 you know it emanated from what is honorable in your-
 
 no Vernon Grove. 
 
 self, and if you do it, it will be just what is right and just 
 what is noble." 
 
 Vernon smiled, but his lip quivered too, as if some 
 new and blessed experience were stirring the very depths 
 of his soul. 
 
 " Send for the lad, Sybil," he said at last, " here and 
 at once!" 
 
 A second time was William the cottager sent for to 
 the house of Vernon Grove, but under what different 
 circumstances ! The boy advanced with a modest, 
 though not downcast look into the hall, where Vernon 
 and Sybil stood to meet him, the former holding out his 
 hand to welcome him, but he scarcely understood the 
 action in that cold proud man, and Sybil taking the hand 
 of each, placed them one within the other. 
 
 " I owe my life to you, William," said Vernon in gen- 
 tle tones "a young man of your age, and just entering 
 manhood, needs sometimes a helping hand to lead him 
 on to success ; you must look upon me as your friend, 
 and tell me your wants. Would you like to go to the 
 city and earn a livelihood there, or would you rather he- 
 advanced to some station of trust here in the country y 
 Only let me know your wishes and they shall be gratified 
 by one who, when in a passionate mood, was not gene- 
 rous enough to make an allowance for a first youthful 
 fault." 
 
 A thrill swept through the chords of Sybil's heart ; 
 surely this was not the Vernon she had known, once so 
 unforgiving and tyrannical, nor did she wonder at the 
 glow of pride that lit the upturned face of the lad as he 
 listened to Vernon's noble words. 
 
 " You thought that you were acting right," returned
 
 Vernon Grove. ill 
 
 he, and so did your duty, sometimes I think, for the 
 best, too ; for it was my punishment after all that led 
 Miss Gray to our cottage, and we have all been better 
 and happier since she came. I would thank you, sir, not 
 to allude to a reward for an act which any one with cou- 
 rage would have done ; there is only one thing that I 
 desire, and that is, that you would forget that I ever 
 lost sight of my duty so far as to stoop to the wicked 
 ways of a thief." 
 
 " I will forget it," said Vernon warmly, " only to re- 
 member that you are a noble and worthy being, and that 
 you may count upon me as your friend for life." 
 
 Sybil lay down to rest that night with a grateful 
 happy heart, for besides the conquest which she felt that 
 Vernon had made over himself, he had empowered her 
 to have the widow and her family removed to a comfort- 
 able cottage upon his own land, and William, besides 
 overseeing his employer's affairs, was to be presented 
 with a little farm which would yield him a certain in- 
 come. 
 
 And Sybil, Sybil, was to be the Lady Bountiful, 
 through whom the grand changes were to come to 
 pass. No wonder that golden visions floated about her 
 in her dreams, and that her day thoughts were sur- 
 rounded with a rosy halo, for she was tasting a new 
 pleasure, and that through Vernon's kindness, the luxury 
 of practically doiag good.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Oh ! watch me, watch me still 
 
 Thro' the long night's dreary hours ; 
 Uphold, by thy firm will, 
 
 Worn Nature's sinking powers. 
 
 While yet thy face is there 
 
 (The loose locks round it flying), 
 So young, and fresh, and fair, 
 
 I feel not I am dying. 
 
 But while those pitying eyes 
 
 Are bending thus above me, 
 In vain the death-dews rise, 
 
 Thou dost regret and love me 1 
 
 Thy fond and pitying smile 
 
 Shall soothe my painful waking, 
 Thy voice shah 1 cheer me while 
 
 The slow grey dawn is breaking." 
 
 MRS. NORTON. 
 
 THE shock that Vernon had sustained, together with 
 his sleep in the damp neighborhood of the spring, were 
 more disastrous in their consequences than could at first 
 have been imagined ; for one afternjon shortly after, 
 when Sybil came into the parlor equipped for a walk, 
 she found him lying upon a couch with a flush like that 
 of fever upon his face. He was seldom ill, and his pow- 
 erful frame and strong athletic limbs looked as if they 
 could not be bound by the cords of sickness ; but while
 
 Vernon Grove. 113 
 
 Sybil looked at him and heard his heavy irregular 
 breathing as he lay with contracted brow, she intuitively 
 felt that he was suffering, and questioned him. Vernon 
 acknowledged a dull pain in his head and a burning thirst, 
 treating the matter lightly, and making his usual prepa- 
 rations for his evening stroll, but a sudden faintness over- 
 took him, and towards night his ill feelings so continued 
 to increase, that he himself at last proposed to send for 
 medical aid. 
 
 The physician at once declared that he was very sick, 
 and that he required the most attentive care, and thus a 
 new office devolved upon Sybil, who placed herself 
 under the teaching of the housekeeper who was an ex- 
 cellent nurse and had attended Vernon in his former ill- 
 ness. With untiring footsteps she passed from her 
 grandmother's room to his, and with her gentle ministra- 
 tions relieved them both, winning many a word of appro- 
 val from the more experienced nurse, who was glad of 
 the young eyes and hopeful nature of Sybil to bear her 
 company. The responsibility increased each moment, 
 for Vernon grew rapidly ill, the fever raging with una- 
 bating violence, until at last he sank into utter uncon- 
 sciousness. 
 
 To such anxiety of mind as Sybil now felt, she was a 
 stranger, and the new experience bewildered her, and 
 though she did not at first know the extent of the dan- 
 ger of her friend and guardian, she felt that such an ill- 
 ness was a terrible thing, and her heart was sorely trou- 
 bled for the strong proud man who lay bereft of strength 
 and pride, and with unfailing patience she watched and 
 waited upon him. Sometimes she thought that if ever 
 there could be a return for all the benefits which she had
 
 1 1 4 Vernon Grove. 
 
 received from him, the hour had come to give it, and 
 that devotion on her part would be but a proper offer- 
 ing in exchange ; but her motive at other times for thus 
 expending her energies in watching day and night at his 
 bedside, was only what any sick and suffering fellow- 
 creature might expect, namely, Christian kindness and 
 sympathy. 
 
 Up to the time of his unconsciousness he was only 
 content when she was in his presence, and was restless 
 and complaining when she left the room to attend to her 
 grandmother's wants, but now that restlessness was over, 
 the stupor which had succeeded was oblivion to all that 
 was passing around, and at this stage of his illness Sybil 
 had a new and unexpected trial. 
 
 The physician, who was a kind and fatherly man, 
 called her to him one day when she thought that Ver- 
 non, from some new symptoms which had appeared, 
 more than ever required her watchful vigils, and gently 
 laying his hand upon her fair young head, told her that 
 it was early hi life for such trials to fall to her lot, but 
 that he must prepare her for the worst by informing her 
 that in ah 1 human probability Vernon would die. The 
 disease had baffled his skill, and although he tried every 
 endeavor to save his patient's life, still, unless some 
 almost miraculous intervention, which he could not fore- 
 see then, interposed in the natural order of events, he 
 said, that his patient must shortly breathe his last. He 
 then dictated a letter to her which he toid her she must 
 send at once to Isabel, acquainting her with the sad in- 
 telligence, but informing her at the same time that it 
 would be useless in her to attempt to see her brother, as 
 should the worst happen, it would be before she could
 
 Vernon Grove. 115 
 
 arrive at Vernon Grove. The physician knew some- 
 thing of Isabel's character, and felt, even had there 
 been time, how out of place she would be by the sick 
 man's couch, with her restlessness and worldly thoughts 
 and manners. 
 
 Poor Sybil, she received the dreadful intelligence with 
 a cold chill which made her speechless, but the convic- 
 tion that if she were not calm, and did she not put on a 
 courage which she was far from feeling, there would be 
 none to act, gave to her appearance a quiet dignity 
 which even deceived the kind-hearted physician, who 
 called her a heroine, and praised her self-possession ; 
 but could he have seen her a moment after he left 
 her, with a death-like pallor on her countenance, and 
 have heard the simple ejaculation, " God help me," 
 Avhich burst from her white and quivering lips, he would 
 scarcely have called her a heroine then. 
 
 Still he might live, hope whispered, and if human care 
 and attention can avail, he must live, she said to herself, 
 even if her own strength and life were to ebb away by 
 the side of Vernon's couch. What mattered it if he 
 woke from that death-like stupor to find her dead ; ay, 
 what mattered it ? Had he not made the world beauti- 
 ful to her by his teachings, his sympathy ; what would 
 it be without him ? Thus Sybil reasoned in behalf of 
 her teacher, her benefactor, her brother, her friend. 
 
 The physician had told her that there was a crisis in 
 his disease, on the other side of which lay either life or 
 death ; scarcely the former, however, and almost cer- 
 tainly the latter. Should he die, he would pass away 
 quietly and gently into another state of being, like a 
 child going into a slumber, for there was no strength
 
 1 1 6 Vernon Grove. 
 
 within him to do battle with the grim tyrant; but 
 should he live, as quietly would he wake again to 
 earth, and its many trials, and as long as there was a 
 ray of hope, Sybil's hope was strong. She could not, 
 would not, believe that Vernon was about to pass away 
 from her sight for ever; she shuddered, too, at the 
 thought of how ill prepared he was for such a change, 
 and fervent prayers for his recovery were unceasingly 
 upon her lips. 
 
 On the morning after her conversation with the phy- 
 sician, death indeed seemed to have the mastery over 
 life upon the body of the unconscious invalid, for his 
 high white brow was whiter than before, and his hands 
 seemed like ice within her own; but even then, when 
 almost hoping against hope, a prayer burst from her 
 lips in the fullness of her heart, and with a passion and 
 energy which were almost foreign to her calm equable 
 temperament, she interceded for the life of her guar- 
 dian. 
 
 " Oh, my God," she said, in the simple language of 
 her guileless heart, " spare him, spare him who has been 
 to me a friend, guide, teacher, who has work upon 
 earth yet to do^ and who, though shut out from thy 
 blessed light, still sympathises with those who enjoy 
 what is denied to him. If thou dost take him he is in 
 thy hands, thou art forgiving, oh God ; but if in thy 
 mercy thou dost see fit to keep him here on earth, may 
 this new trial and suffering have brought him nearer to 
 thee to do thy will, for with thee is life, without thee 
 and Christ, spiritual death. Amen." 
 
 As Sybil knelt by the bedside of Vernon, her face 
 buried in her hands, and her sobs breaking out unrc-
 
 Vernon Grove. 117 
 
 strained from her over-burthened heart, she heard that 
 soul-felt " Amen " echoed so softly, yet distinctly, that 
 she started to her feet, wondering if the word had come 
 from a spirit or from the pale lips before her. He had 
 said it, he lived ! He had passed from the shadow of the 
 grave into life once more, and had heard that earnest 
 prayer. A smile was on his face, but tears were silently 
 coursing each other down his pallid cheeks. Softly 
 Sybil wiped them away, and leaning over him, while 
 trying not to show any emotion, she asked him if he 
 needed anything, and told him calmly how great a dan- 
 ger he had passed, and how necessary it was to his 
 recovery that he should not exert himself at all. 
 
 " Oh, that I had passed away," he murmured, " in 
 that deep unconsciousness it is so fearful to awake 
 again to life, its disappointments and trials, and its blind- 
 ness." 
 
 " Hush," said Sybil softly, laying her hand, with its 
 velvet softness, caressingly upon his brow, " murmur 
 not against what God has done. He may have brought 
 you low to raise you again for some good purpose, some 
 great joy." 
 
 Joy for him! Ah, that might be, he thought, if she 
 loved him, if the voice that had called him back to life 
 had called him back to love too, if he had youth and 
 sight to win her for his own, but these were not the days 
 of miracles. Remembering his vow of old, he put a 
 check upon his thoughts and tongue, and answered her 
 not, but his brow contracted with the effort as though 
 spasmed with pain. 
 
 " We must not talk any more," she said, lifting the 
 waves of bright soft hair that lay tangled upon his
 
 1 1 8 Vernon Grove. 
 
 brow ; " our good doctor will be here directly, and he 
 will ask me if I have been faithful to my precious 
 charge." Then he lay still and hushed under the hea- 
 venly spell of her gentle words and soft touch, as she 
 smoothed into something like order the rebellious locks 
 of his hair until she thought that he slept, and then sat 
 down quietly, afraid to leave him and yet watching 
 anxiously for the entrance of some one to whom *he 
 might impart the joyful tidings. 
 
 " Oh, Sybil," he said at last, with a voice of anguish 
 and tenderness which almost betrayed his secret, " your 
 watchfulness, your devotion, have cured me of this 
 almost fatal fevei*, but there remains a pain incurable, 
 which you know not of, here, deep, deep in my heart, 
 which is beating for ever with the same throb of anguish ; 
 God cannot still that and bid it be calm, though He can 
 give life and take it." 
 
 "Poor, tried, weary heart," she answered softly, as 
 though she were soothing a grieved child ; then dash- 
 ing away the tears that would come to her eyes for very 
 pity of his weakness, she continued earnestly, " God 
 can do all things, Mr. Vernon, for those who love him ; 
 do you not remember those beautiful words, ' Tenderly 
 his finger touches the stains of our hearts and demies 
 the misery of our lives.' But to be loved and cared for 
 by Him, we must love Him too. Will you not try to 
 do this ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you will teach me how, Sybil," he answered. 
 Sybil pressed his hand, but did not answer. She felt a 
 new joy in her heart ; she might be the means of train- 
 ing a soul for a purer life ; she was weak, truly, for the 
 task, but God was on her side, and her reply to his
 
 Vernon Grove. 1 19 
 
 question was simply that gentle pressure which the blind 
 man understood, and a scarcely audible prayer breathed 
 for him, for her, for both. 
 
 The entrance of the physician put an end to further 
 conversation, and it was well that he came, for the 
 unusual excitement was anything but beneficial to Ver- 
 non. 
 
 " By almost a miracle you are raised from a very cri- 
 tical state to one of comparative security," he said 
 seriously, "but your little nurse must keep you very 
 quiet, noting the slightest change, for a relapse would 
 be fatal in your present weak state ; and any conversa- 
 tion long continued, or any excitement, would be apt to 
 throw you back again." 
 
 Thus warned, Sybil did her duty to the utmost ; she 
 would neither converse herself, nor allow Vernon to en- 
 gage in any conversation on his part, and a busy and im- 
 portant person she became, flitting like a spirit of peace 
 from room to room, the servants looking up to her with 
 respect, and even the old housekeeper praising her for 
 her untiring industry and devotion. This self-abnegation 
 had its reward, for Vernon gradually recovered his 
 strength, and though not able to leave his room for some 
 time, each day added fresh vigor to his wasted frame ; 
 and as gradually she felt that she was gaining a recog- 
 nised influence even over that stern unbending will. 
 
 " Is Sybil here ?" asked Vernon one afternoon after 
 waking from a refreshing sleep, " yes, I know that she 
 is, for the air is softer for her presence, there is a balmier 
 breath floating above and around me. Yes, Sybil must 
 be here ; where is she, and what is she doing ?" 
 
 " You have guessed aright," she answered playfully,
 
 12O Vernon Grove. 
 
 " but because you are feeling better and stronger with 
 coming health, you must not be led away by your 
 imaginings to pay such far-fetched compliments. I am 
 seated by a window, sometimes looking at the last foot- 
 prints of Winter, and sometimes reading passages from 
 a good book." 
 
 " It is a long time since my pupil has read to me, will 
 she read to me now ? Along with this fine elastic air 
 around me, let her voice come to me like the tuneful 
 reed of woodland shepherd, as it did in days of yore." 
 
 Sybil half smiled at his persistent complimentary tone, 
 then looked serious enough as her eye rested upon the 
 book that she was holding ; history, poetry, novels, 
 science, all these had she read aloud to Vernon, but 
 never that. Would he listen patiently, or would he ask 
 for something lighter, and to his ken, better? She 
 would try him it was worth the trial his displeasure was 
 nothing compared with what she thought seemed clearly 
 to her her duty, and unfalteringly and feelingly she read 
 from the page which lay open upon her lap. 
 
 " The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 
 
 " He maketh me to lie down in green pastures : He 
 leadeth me beside the still waters. 
 
 " He restoreth my soul, He leadeth me in the paths 
 of righteousness for His name's sake. 
 
 " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the sha- 
 dow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, 
 thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 
 
 " Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of 
 mine enemies ; thou anointest my head with oil, my cup 
 runneth over. 
 
 " Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the
 
 Vernon Grove. 121 
 
 days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord 
 for ever." 
 
 Sybil made no comment upon what she had read, nor 
 did she allow Vernon to do so, for she arose and left the 
 apartment, imagining that he had food enough for 
 thought in the beautiful words he had heard. 
 
 The next afternoon as she was seated in the same spot 
 with the same book before her, great was her delight at 
 hearing Vernon request her to read aloud again, leaving 
 her to the choice of what it should be. She chose, as she 
 had done the day before, feeling that one step was 
 gained, and when he bade her pause so that he might 
 speak of the beauty of some particular passage, she 
 knew that the ice of indifference was broken ; and it 
 came to pass that after Vernon's recovery the Bible still 
 continued to form a part of their daily reading. Vernon 
 listened to it, but too often as a critic, though Sybil 
 reasoned rightly when she said to herself that even then 
 it was a great gain, and that, perhaps, when he came " to 
 scoff" he would " remain to pray." 
 
 As the Winter passed away and the Spring came in 
 with joyous step, a very maiden in the first flush of youth, 
 brightening everything she looked upon and smiling 
 upon earth and sky, Vernon's recovery seemed esta- 
 blished, and each day added somewhat of his old vigor 
 to his step, each day his proud look came back more 
 strongly marked upon his face; not the defiant look 
 which made Sybil liken him to a tree struck by lightning, 
 and though blasted, towering upwards to the sky, but a 
 softened pride, as though the tree was scathed only, and 
 struggled, erect still, for life. He was happier, far hap- 
 pier, too, than he had been for years, for he had a tran- 

 
 122 Vernon Grove. 
 
 quil security in the present which soothed and satisfied 
 him. First he felt how exclusively Sybil was his own, 
 at least until some one more fortunate than himself came 
 to claim her, and again he knew that he was a better 
 man. Gone were those quick flashes of temper which 
 so often interfered with his peace of mind ; gone was 
 that miserable depression of spirits, which not only 
 affected his own well-being but that of those around him, 
 and those querulous repinings against fate had given 
 place, if not to submission, to a quiet acquiescence in 
 his condition, and though he was far from his ideal of 
 a good man, and farther yet from Sybil's, still the pro- 
 gress was upward not downward. 
 
 It has been said that " the heart in waking wakes the 
 mind," and perhaps all of Vernon's happy change of 
 character could be traced to Sybil's influence and the 
 strong love which had budded awhile ago, and had now 
 burst into full flower, which he wore, truly enough, con- 
 cealed ; not on his breast but in it. Even granting this, 
 Sybil might have been the instrument, the means which 
 led on to such a desirable end. So that the change 
 had really come, it mattered little whether Sybil's hand 
 first touched the troubled waters, or whether an angel 
 had looked within their depths with eyes that had power 
 to calm. God has many ways to bring a wanderer 
 home. 
 
 At this period of our story Mrs. Gordon remained in 
 the same state, neither better nor worse, and Sybil was 
 truly thankful to know that in her slow decay, though the 
 mind was no longer active, the body of her dear relative 
 was free from suffering, and with renewed ardor she laid 
 plans to pursue her studies and to devote as much time
 
 Vernon Grove. 123 
 
 as she conscientiously could to her improvement in every 
 branch of education, but an event occurred that entirely 
 interrupted the even tenor of her life. 
 
 About this time a letter arrived from Isabel, full of 
 regrets that she had been unable to leave her home at 
 the period of Vernon's illness, congratulating him upon 
 his recovery, and adding that as he was proof against all 
 invitations to the city, she had determined to spend a 
 month with him ; but dreading the loneliness of the drive, 
 as Mr. Clayton was unable to accompany her, he must 
 be prepared to have a friend of hers for an inmate, who 
 had been selected by her for agreeable conversation, 
 brilliant qualities, and in fact for all that would render a 
 tiresome journey agreeable. 
 
 " And this friend ?" asked Sybil as she finished reading 
 Isabel's letter. 
 
 " Only some artist or poet, I suppose," answered Ver- 
 non in his turn, though concealing his fears and anxious 
 about any addition to their happy home of one who 
 might interest Sybil, " Isabel is always surrounded by 
 such, who are painting her beauty or making verses 
 about her expressive eyes, that ' underneath th.it calm 
 white forehead are ever burning torrid.' " 
 
 " You have so often spoken of your sister's beauty 
 that I have a longing to see it, just as one longs to go 
 abroad to gaze at one particular Madonna. I wonder 
 if the sense of her loveliness will flash upon me like sun- 
 light, or if it will grow upon me like the coming dawn. 
 I cannot tell yet what my ideal of beauty is, only it seems 
 to me now that I could scarcely be said to have one. 
 As in pictures, so in living and breathing creations of 
 beauty, I should think that one ought to be educated to
 
 124 Vernon Grove. 
 
 enjoy it and to say at last, ' this or that face or form 
 delights me.' " 
 
 " And yet, Sybil," answered Yernon, " I would not 
 have you think that Isabel, with her surpassing loveli- 
 ness, is my criterion. I admired but did not enjoy her 
 face when I could see it. Hers is a restless butterfly 
 brilliancy, a very opal is she among the gems ; her friend, 
 Miss Percy (I can talk of her without emotion now), 
 was once my type of the highest perfection of beauty, 
 calm, statuesque, still, ruby-lipped, not so fair as clear 
 and regally majestic ; a rose, to the looker-on showing 
 nothing but most gorgeous coloring, most perfect pro- 
 portions, but to any one who was fortunate enough to 
 gather and wear it, giving out the most delicious per- 
 fumes. I had my dream, you know how it was dissolved, 
 how I did not win the rose nor wear it." 
 
 "Yes, I know, I know," said Sybil hastily, fearing 
 that the fresh opening of the old wounds might give him 
 pain. 
 
 " I did not win nor wear it," repeated Vernon, " nor 
 am I the least regretful that I did not ; the possession 
 of such a regal beauty would have made me proud but 
 not happy, and what would it have availed me now? 
 No, Sybil, even if I could see God's daylight again, and 
 were I seeking a wife, a companion, I would search 
 through the world not so much for a lovely face, but a 
 truthful one, not so much for a Juno-like form to gaze 
 upon admiringly, as for one pliant and yielding that I 
 could nestle in my heai't of hearts, and that would feel 
 at home there. But we have forgotten our first topic, 
 these city guests who are accustomed to be amused all 
 the day and half of the night ; all that we can do is to
 
 Vernon Grove. 125 
 
 make them welcome in our quiet way, and take their 
 visit as a dispensation by no means agreeable, and do 
 our best under the circumstances ; then you must tell 
 the housekeeper to do hers, too, and let it be generally 
 known among the household, and I doubt not with their 
 memory of city habits, and your observant eyes, that 
 everything will go on smoothly and well. And 
 Sybil" 
 
 " Mr. Vernon " 
 
 " About yourself; send to the city for any addition to 
 your wardrobe that you may need ; I would have my 
 young protege looking her best in my sister's eyes." 
 
 Vernon seemed lost for a moment in deep thought, a 
 new emotion stirred the heart of each, and Sybil was 
 silent too. " Was she fair and bright-eyed, and would 
 that sister look approvingly upon her, or was she other- 
 wise ?" he said to himself. 
 
 " Do I approach any of the types of beauty which he 
 has mentioned, Mrs. Clayton's or Miss Percy's, or that 
 other, the beauty of Truth, or am I far removed from 
 each and all ?" she thought. 
 
 " You will look your best ?" at last he said again. 
 
 " As a moth flying around a star," she answered some- 
 what sadly, as she thought of what she had heard of Isa- 
 bel and her loveliness. 
 
 " Ah ! is it so then ?" he asked somewhat disappointed, 
 though scarcely daring to confess it to himself, but it 
 was only for a moment; he loved her soul, not her 
 perishable body. 
 
 " You said that you liked the truthful face best," she 
 said timidly ; " Mrs. Clayton, I trust, will find truth and 
 sincerity in her brother's adopted sister."
 
 126 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " Yes, dear child, I know it as though I could see it, 
 and it is God's most precious seal imprinted on what He 
 has created; keep on the garments of truth, dear Sybil, 
 be what you are, and the moth will not be overpowered 
 by the lustre of the star ;" and with these kind comfort- 
 ing words he left her. 
 
 Many a moment of longing had Sybil before the 
 guests arrived to flee away to her old cottage home, 
 but she gradually overcame her timidity when she saw 
 that no responsibility whatever would fall upon her, for 
 the well-trained servants and excellent housekeeper soon 
 had everything in readiness, and even seemed to apply 
 themselves with additional alacrity to their preparations 
 at the prospect of the monotony of their quiet life being 
 broken by Mrs. Clayton and her attendants, and at last 
 she not only became reconciled herself to the looked-for 
 innovation, but anxious for it too.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " With silken coats and caps, and golden rings, 
 With ruffs and cuffs, and farthingales and things." 
 
 " Oh, to see or hear her singing ! scarce I know which is divinest 
 For her looks sing too she modulates her gestures to the tune ; 
 And her mouth stirs with the song, like song ; and when the notes 
 
 are finest, 
 
 'Tia the eyes that shoot out vocal light, and seem to swell them on." 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 ON the day appointed, the party from the city arrived, 
 but an hour sooner than was expected. Sybil had taken 
 a walk, and Vernon alone remained to receive them. 
 
 Isabel loved her brother as much as such a heart as 
 hers could love, with its evil impulses unchecked, and its 
 good ones not encouraged, and rushing into his arms, 
 she covered his face with kisses. Hers was a changeful 
 nature, flickering with lights and shadows ; not, perhaps, 
 wilfully sinful, but too faulty to inspire much respect ; 
 she would do a grievous wrong to a friend, who, dis- 
 gusted at once with her levity and inconsistency, deter- 
 mined to avoid her ever after ; but in another instant 
 some kind act of Isabel's, and her lovely winning smile, 
 effaced aU remembrance of her folly. Such a character 
 is not an uncommon one, and it is impossible to harbor 
 resentment long against these April-like beings, who 
 have tears as well as sunshine at command. It was no
 
 1 28 Vernon Grove. 
 
 wonder, then, that Vernon, remembering that she was 
 his sister, the only tie of blood that he had upon earth, 
 and that they had been parted for years, returned her 
 affectionate caresses with an almost equal warmth. 
 
 " And now," said Isabel, gracefully disengaging her- 
 self from his arms, " you must not neglect your other 
 guest give me your hand, Richard, and let your heart 
 go with it in a welcome." 
 
 He gave it, and felt it placed by her in another hand, 
 a beautiful hand, but not like Sybil's. A shudder crept 
 over him as he felt its clasp. It was one that he had 
 pressed before, and cared never to press again. No, it 
 was not like Sybil's any more that the heart was like 
 Sybil's. The hand of the one was perfect in its propor- 
 tions, like that of a statue, and artists had moulded their 
 finest creations from its form ; the fingers were tapered 
 to a point, the well-shaped nail polished to glossiness, 
 but a certain hardness like the marble which it copied, a 
 coldness, met your touch; but Sybil's hand was soft, 
 tremulous, yielding, and warm, with a palm like the faint 
 blush of a rose leaf; one felt truth there, but in that 
 other hand, lying in Vernon's, there was none. 
 
 " Florence Percy," said Isabel, but she might have 
 left the words unuttered, for Vernon knew it before 
 they were said, and he stammered out something which 
 he hoped sounded like a polite welcome, but was it ? 
 Scarcely. 
 
 "Yes, I knew that you would be glad to see us, 
 Richard, I told Florence so, and assured her that you 
 had not forgotten those happy hours of the past," said 
 Isabel. " I did my very best to bring Clayton with us, 
 but he resisted all my fascinations ; I even tried to charm
 
 Vernon Grove. 129 
 
 back his romance, and talked touchingly of the woods 
 and streams, but all in vain, and so I concluded to yield 
 myself gracefully to the inevitable fate of coming with- 
 out him. He is just as good, Richard, just as indulgent 
 as ever, and has such a pleasant way of being obstinate 
 that one cannot get angry with him. The day before 
 we came I actually forced some tears into my eyes, by 
 way of additional inducement, to show him how I longed 
 for his company, but he either did not or would not 
 notice them, and dried them most effectually by saying 
 in a tone, entirely divested of all romance, that he could 
 not come because he had some grand speculation on 
 hand which would yield him, if attended to, several 
 thousands ; and then by way of comfort for my disap- 
 pointment, he said that he supposed I wanted a new 
 robe de chambre for the country, some unostentatious 
 jewelry which would not dazzle the dwellers of Arcadia, 
 and before I could answer no, he poured a handful of 
 gold into my lap and departed. That is always the way 
 he treats me, and often when I know that I deserve a 
 scolding, for some giddy act of mine, he blesses me instead ; 
 but I must end with what I began, and tell you how it 
 comes to pass that Florence is here. I did not want to 
 bring with me any of the lords of creation, for the effort 
 to entertain them with no externals but the skies and fields 
 would have annihilated me. Nothing remained then 
 but to bring some one with me who is so agreeable, and 
 so chimes in with all that is beautiful in art and nature, 
 that she would but seem as a part of the fine landscapes, 
 while I might enjoy her society as such ; so I looked 
 around, and, lo, Florence appeared and came."
 
 130 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " She forgot to say, however," said Florence in return, 
 "that she herself is the sun which brightens the land- 
 scapes, and everything around." 
 
 Isabel thanked her friend with a gratified smile, for 
 flattery was the food that she loved, and Florence 
 knew it. 
 
 " We have been talking so busily," she resumed "that 
 I had quite forgotten I meant to look about upon the 
 beauties and conveniences of your house before we went 
 to our rooms. Really, you are no anchorite after all, 
 living in a hut on bread and water, but have a most 
 charming habitation here, which breathes unmistakably 
 of civilization. There is one thing, however, in your 
 manage which astonishes me, and that is that you are 
 content to live here year after year with no one but ser- 
 vants and that superannuated sickly dame and her 
 rustic grandchild. It is bad taste, to say the least of it, 
 but you are not utterly lost to taste and refinement, 
 Richard, as one can see by your pictures. "What an 
 exquisite Raphael that is ; did you ever behold anything 
 so soul touching as that Madonna's eyes, Florence ? and 
 that," she exclaimed with clasped hands, " I suppose is 
 the Vandyck that with good reason you gave such a 
 sum for last year ; I must look at it to-morrow, and the 
 next day, and the next." 
 
 Isabel had at last made the circuit of the room in her 
 tour of curiosity, and stopped at length quite breathless 
 at a window, which looked out upon the extensive green 
 lawn, which it was Vernon's pride ever to have in excel- 
 lent order, and no one could fail to be delighted with its 
 velvet smoothness, as it stretched in gradual slope to
 
 Vernon Grove. 131 
 
 the woods beyond. Here Isabel paused for a moment, 
 but her silence was not of long continuance, being 
 broken once more with an exclamation of delight. 
 
 "Pictures within and pictures without," she ex- 
 claimed : " Ah, what a vision of loveliness ! Who is 
 that exquisite creature approaching the house, Richard ? 
 Her hair is of that pale golden color, so beautiful and so 
 rare, her eyes the most heavenly blue, her cheek just 
 flushed enough for refinement, and her complexion that 
 creamy healthy white which the painters love so 
 much." 
 
 " I know not," said Vernon, amused in spite of him- 
 self with Isabel's interest in all around her, "unless you 
 have made a vow to see only what is beautiful in the 
 world, and color everything from within, or perhaps you 
 have improvised some maid of honor to attend you as 
 lovely as yourself; or stay, will you have one more sug- 
 gestion, it may be that a naiad, fresh from her sylvan 
 toilet, has come to ask your orders." 
 
 " You do but jest, Mr. Vernon," said Florence, 
 "while Isabel is in earnest, and this apparition is as 
 lovely as she has described there, stand back a little, 
 Isabel, and let her still be unconscious that we are here ; 
 see what a pretty pantomiu.-j she is acting as she 
 approaches ; now she weaves her flowers into a garland, 
 and like a ballet dancer has thrown them over her head 
 with a graceful movement ; now she twines them into a 
 wreath, and apes the graces of a crowned queen, and, 
 ah see again, how naturally she arranges -them into an 
 artistic bouquet, and offers them with a coquettish air to 
 some imaginary swain." 
 
 "All that she does seems well done," whispered
 
 132 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Isabel in return ; " and, oh, what beauty, what perfect 
 beauty is hers ! For the first time in my life you must 
 forgive me for raving about perfections which are not 
 yours, Florence. Hush, she is seating herself at the 
 foot of that huge leafy tree ; let us listen, our naiad is 
 beginning to sing." 
 
 The truth was gradually dawning upon Vernon, and 
 it came upon him with a glare almost too dazzling, as 
 that beloved voice rose upon his ear. His strong frame 
 trembled, he grew pale, then flushed. Every emotion 
 of the human heart seemed to gather in his breast. 
 Sybil, beautiful ! she was his, his own. Sybil, beautiful ! 
 ah, fatal gift, the fairest flowers were plucked the soon- 
 est, and he would, lose this flower he prized so much. 
 Love, jealousy, anger, fear, tenderness, all were felt by 
 him in their full intensity, but gradually as that perfect 
 voice, singing the impassioned Italian music which he 
 had taught it, came wafted in at the window together 
 with the perfume of the flowers, every emotion was 
 calmed save love, complete undying love, a part of him 
 then, and for ever, and as the last note died away in the 
 hush that followed, he found voice to say softly, 
 
 " It is my little Sybil Gray." 
 
 Then the curtains of an opposite window parted, 
 making a frame for the strangely beautiful face that 
 looked in, and which blushed scarlet at finding strangers 
 there, and at feeling that they had heard her unbidden 
 song; but Vernon, who had heard her light footstep, 
 re-assured her by the kind tone of his voice, and she 
 entered, offering her hand gracefully, but timidly, to 
 the new-comers. A regular introduction, all intuitive- 
 ly felt, would have been awkward and out of place.
 
 Vernon Grove. 133 
 
 Sybil herself felt it, and broke the ice by offering her 
 flowers. 
 
 " How beautiful," said Isabel, glancing more at the fair 
 girl who proffered them, than at the flowers themselves. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " they are, indeed. I tried to 
 gather the prettiest I could find to arrange in your 
 rooms before you came, and as is the fashion in some 
 countries, to crown your pillows with a cluster of sweet 
 roses, but I fear that I lingered too long on the way." 
 
 " You are very kind," returned Isabel, " you must, 
 however, not lay the defeat of your plans at your own 
 door, but upon our horses, who were fresher than we 
 imagined, and so we came the last few miles more 
 rapidly, arriving here an hour before the specified 
 time." 
 
 " I hope, Sybil," said Vernon, " that in your zeal for 
 others you have not forgotten your daily tribute to me." 
 
 " That I never forget," she answered gravely, " it 
 would be ungrateful indeed ; here they are, your own 
 favorites, and a cluster of more beautiful violets I have 
 never seen." 
 
 " How wonderful," said Isabel quickly, " the violet is 
 your favorite, too, is it not, Florence ?" 
 
 Sybil was just extending her hand to place them hi 
 Yemen's, when both started, and the fragrant cluster 
 fell to the ground. 
 
 He remembered that it was her favorite flower, and 
 she she was startled at the name spoken by Isabel. 
 
 Florence ! it seemed familiar, it seemed linked with a 
 host of cruel memories, a broken trust, desertion, pain 
 inflicted by one whom Vernon had loved. Then the 
 memories took a more definite form, and Vernon's pqst
 
 134 Vernon Grove. 
 
 rose clearly before her, and lifting her glance to the face 
 of that stately beauty before her, whose cold searching 
 eyes looked her through and through, her heart told her 
 that there she stood, the destroyer of his happiness, the 
 original of the glorious picture upon whose reverse 
 might have been written the word deceit. 
 
 As Sybil stooped to raise the fallen flowers, she 
 mechanically looked up once more ; still that piercing 
 glance was upon her, those hawk-like eyes watching the 
 crouching dove, but she turned away from their strange 
 spell, and again offered the flowers to Vernon. 
 
 " Take them away, Sybil," he said in a low tone of 
 voice, " I had forgotten that she cared for them, take 
 them far away." 
 
 Sybil left the room in obedience to that whisper, the 
 guests thought for some domestic order from Vernon, 
 but in reality to be alone. She knew not why, but her 
 heart seemed bursting with some strange new feeling, 
 which she could not analyze. Florence Percy here, 
 she thought, under this very roof! Florence loving the 
 same flowers that Vemon loved ! And then how superb 
 she was in her majestic beauty. Isabel was lovely, win- 
 ning, fascinating, but Florence was regal. Besides, 
 what right had she to look so tenderly upon Vernon, so 
 curiously upon herself? How imposing she was, how 
 rich the dress that enveloped her magnificent form ; 
 how visibly a certain sort of power seemed to hang 
 about her, a kind of " I dare and I will," which awed 
 and frightened. Dared and willed what f A stronger 
 emotion swept over Sybil's heart than she had ever 
 before experienced, an emotion, which she thought, if 
 continued for many days, might kill her. There was no
 
 Vernon Grove. 135 
 
 good angel near to tell her that it was the fiend of 
 jealousy, and its fearful fire burnt strong and clear. 
 She sought a retired part of the garden near the artifi- 
 cial lake, which flowed as clear as crystal at her feet, and 
 a thought something akin to revenge came to her, and 
 she looked around with a guilty glance before it gave 
 birth to a deed, to see that she was unobserved. 
 
 "He shall not love what she loves," she said pas- 
 sionately, and with an impulsiveness new to her gentle 
 nature, she tore the flowers one by one apart, and threw 
 them into the stream. 
 
 But even as the breeze wafted them away, her mood 
 changed, the reaction, which could not be delayed long, 
 came to her in a flow of bitter tears, and holding up the 
 picture of herself to herself, she prayed for pardon, 
 prayed that the hour might pass quickly away, pleaded 
 for strength against temptation, and for more effectual 
 piety, despising herself for her weakness, and most sor- 
 rowful for her forgetfulness of her duty ; then fearing 
 that her absence would be marked, entered the house 
 once more, apparently as calm as the stream upon which 
 the rejected flowers were floating. 
 
 Afterwards when she beheld Florence seeking Ver- 
 non's society, and offering him the aid which he was too 
 polite to refuse, and which Sybil felt her right, she ex- 
 amined her heart carefully, probing as she thought, its 
 most secret depths, and came to the following conclu- 
 sion : 
 
 " He has been to me as a brother ; I have led him in 
 his blindness, I have read to him, talked to him, sung to 
 him ; we two have been alone in joy and sorrow, and 
 now another comes and takes my place ; it is natural,
 
 136 Vernon Grove. 
 
 then, that I should feel my rights infringed upon ; but 
 she is not to blame, she knows not what I have been to 
 him, how I have watched him in sickness and health ; 
 no, she is not to blame and to him there may be a fas- 
 cination in being once more in the presence of one who 
 has been so dearly loved as she has been, he may like 
 to hear the tones of her voice, and feel the pressure of 
 her hand ; it may bring back to him the happy hours 
 of his youth, when it was almost his religion to worship 
 at her shrine ; but, oh, how could she, how could she 
 after all that has passed, after she has scorned him and 
 been scorned alike in return, come into his presence, to 
 his very hearthstone again ?" 
 
 After Florence had, as she thought, defined Sybil's 
 position in the household, that is, after she had come to 
 the conclusion that Vernou simply regarded her as an 
 interesting child, whom he had trained according to his 
 ideas, to womanhood ; after she had considered the wide 
 difference in their ages, which seemed to forbid any- 
 thing like the perfect sympathy which she thought she 
 herself could feel for him, and he for her; and when she 
 saw that the retiring girl in no way interfered with her 
 own plans, she, as well as Isabel, looked with wonder 
 upon her singular loveliness and varied gifts, and as- 
 sumed a patronizing air to Vernon's young charge. But 
 though Isabel was most fascinating, and Florence kind- 
 ness itself, Sybil did not feel quite at ease with them, 
 and spent even more of her time than formerly with her 
 grandmother, or in the quiet of her own apartment, 
 while Vernon, who kept his secret so well, longed for 
 the visit to be at an end. 
 
 He was weary of the rustle of silks and satins, the, to
 
 Vernon Grove. 137 
 
 him, unmeaning city gossip, and for the jewels and gew- 
 gaws which they discussed with an interest worthy of 
 a better theme, he cared not. Those busy fashionists 
 seemed to him too much like a mirror of his former self, 
 and while rejoicing that he had outlived their tastes, 
 he sighed for a return of his quiet evenings with Sybil. 
 After a moment's reflection, Florence's course of con- 
 duct and singular intrusion ceased to astonish him, as 
 he recalled what she had done in the past, but he shrank 
 from the daily contact of her proffered hand, and avoided' 
 her whenever he could do so without marked rudeness. 
 
 It was with difficulty, however, that he could suppress 
 his old irritation of manner, as he seldom had an oppor- 
 tunity of being alone with her who, by a word, could 
 calm him ; for in all his walks and drives, his morning 
 and evening pursuits, Florence and Isabel were his 
 constant companions. 
 
 "Here we have entered upon the Sabbath," said 
 Isabel one bright morning in a languid tone, " is there 
 no church in the neighborhood, Richard, to which we 
 can go ? Of all things, what most wearies me is a Sun- 
 day in the country ; the world is even more still here 
 than it is in town, and nature seems to put her finger on 
 her lip and whisper, 'hush.' Even a sermon from a 
 poor drawling minister would serve to relieve the mono- 
 tony of the day." 
 
 Vernon believed that there was a church somewhere. 
 "But do you never go?" asked Isabel, "you did so 
 when you lived in the city, and therefore have gone 
 backward instead of forward as regards the culture of 
 the soul, though, indeed, Richard, youx fields there are 
 patterns for agriculturists."
 
 138 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "With somewhat of yom % dread of drawling ministers, 
 Isabel," returned her brother, "I confess that I have 
 never gone, but Sybil can give you all needed informa- 
 tion, for though the church is several miles distant, my 
 ponderous family coach is ordered through rain and sun- 
 shine, and she makes a weekly pilgrimage in it there." 
 
 "But you will go with us to-day, since we desire it?" 
 pleaded Isabel ; though we are distinguished strangers, 
 lions, we need some one to show us off. It will be so 
 awkward to sail up the aisle unattended by an escort. 
 I am sure that Florence will guide you carefully if we go." 
 
 " No, I cannot, will not," said Vernon decidedly, " if 
 I have one aversion above another, it is to hear a cant- 
 ing mediocre preacher, and I suppose that they have 
 one of the worst kind here." 
 
 " You are mistaken," replied Sybil, quickly, and with 
 more warmth than was usual in her manner, " he is elo- 
 quent sometimes, and always solemn, and being young 
 and ambitious, he is in a fair way to improve ; besides, 
 he told me one day after service, when we were speaking 
 about a sermon which he had just preached, and which 
 came home especially to my heart, that it was his aim 
 and endeavor to excel, and he thought that much more 
 good could be achieved by an intelligent pastor who 
 kept up with the age, than by a man who trod for ever 
 the beaten ground of conservatism and hackneyed cus- 
 tom. His theme had been upon the parable of the wise 
 and foolish virgins, which he treated in a new and pow- 
 erful manner, at least," she added flushing at the notice 
 that she had drawn upon herself, " as far as I can judge 
 from my small experience and the sermons I have read 
 in books."
 
 Vernon Grove. 139 
 
 Isabel and Florence exchanged significant glances. 
 
 " Your defence of the young manf said the latter 
 pointedly, " is most eloquent, Sybil, and you appear to 
 be very good friends." 
 
 " Yes, very," she replied quietly, quite unconscious of 
 the weight put upon what she had said. 
 
 The words struck a hai*sh chord in Vernon's breast. 
 lie had often heard her mention the preacher whom she 
 had listened to weekly, and sometimes as an exercise 
 she gave him a synopsis of his sermons, but instead of 
 being a young and attractive man, he had always fan- 
 cied him a grey-haired individual, with a monotonous 
 drawl and a puritanical air, but this revelation of Sybil's 
 inspired him with a sudden fancy to hear him preach 
 and to judge for himself. 
 
 " I think that I will go to church to-day," he said 
 suddenly. " I have a great desire to know if Sybil has 
 not exaggerated the wonderful talents of her spiritual 
 guide ;" and he rang and ordered the carriage. 
 
 "I did not say that his talents were wonderful," 
 returned Sybil gravely, " and I think that no one should 
 go to church from curiosity, even to hear a celebrated 
 preacher, for the most inferior preachers can impart to us 
 some good if we choose to receive it. There may be 
 something about a man's circumstances and character 
 which impresses us favorably, and this is singularly the 
 case with Mr. Clarke. He has been the support of an 
 aged mother for years, and his sister likewise has been 
 dependent on him. His support was very scanty until 
 he came here, but now his salary is not only sufficient to 
 maintain himself and them, but not long ago he went to 
 the city to be married, and was expected to return last
 
 140 Vernon Grove. 
 
 week with his bride, to whom he has been attached a long 
 time, a beautiful girl, they say, who leaves the luxuries 
 of her father's house to share with him his humble home." 
 
 Vernon breathed freely again. He had now no fear 
 that the shepherd would steal his little lamb to nestle her 
 in his own bosom, and his desire to go to church suddenly 
 abated, while Isabel and Florence went to prepare their 
 elaborate toilets, and he and Sybil for the first time for 
 many days were left alone. 
 
 " How delightful it is to think that you are going to 
 church, Mr. Vernon," said Sybil joyfully, " it will be so 
 pleasant to have you with us." 
 
 " And why, Sybil ? your paragon of a preacher will 
 discourse no more eloquently for my presence. I have 
 just altered my mind, and am determined not to go." 
 
 Sybil's countenance fell. 
 
 " And will you not reconsider it and change again ?" 
 she said sadly, " one can afford to be fickle where a good 
 cause is concerned." 
 
 " Wherefore should I change ?" said Vernon seating 
 himself more comfortably in the luxurious arm-chair into 
 which he had thrown himself. " It seems to me that any 
 change from this most easy posture would be for the 
 worse." 
 
 " Think how objectless your Sabbath life is," she said, 
 taking a chair near him. " I have long desired to con- 
 verse with you upon this subject, but have never had the 
 courage to broach it ; but now, to-day, the sister-spirit 
 is strong within me, and I must speak. Dear Mr. Vernon, 
 those words, ' Remember the Sabbath,' were meant to 
 be observed, and not passed over lightly ; and how can 
 we better recall them than in a house dedicated to the
 
 Vernon Grove. 141 
 
 worship of Him who commanded the observance of a 
 day set apart ?" 
 
 " I can carry on my religious services at home, Sybil ; 
 nay, I would be willing to compare my thoughts with 
 those of certain church-worshippers to-day after the 
 service, very much, I think, to the advantage of mine." 
 
 "I doubt it not," said Sybil, still more earnestly, 
 because pained by Richard's manner, " but think of the 
 example you set. Suppose that all remained at home as 
 you do, what would be the use of the solemn bells calling 
 us to worship ? All the charm and vitality of the Sabbath 
 would be gone. Only go to-day just to-day, Mr. 
 Vernon, and I trust that what you hear and feel will take 
 you there again." 
 
 Vernon silently mused awhile. He had not been an 
 inattentive listener to her pleading words spoken so truly 
 and in so good a cause, and at length he replied to her. 
 
 "You are a sweet preacher, and a most persuasive 
 one," he said, " and to answer your appeal candidly, I 
 must tell you that awhile ago when I ordered the carriage, 
 I had determined to go for a far different motive than any 
 reason that you have given ; but now I verily believe 
 that you have convinced me that it is my duty, and more- 
 over, because you would like to have me accompany you 
 I will go but with one proviso, that you will promise to 
 lead me in. I trust that I have not so far forgotten my 
 early training as to enter a house dedicated to God with 
 unholy thoughts, and only with your pure, devout spirit 
 near me could I feel as I ought. If that hand all covered 
 with jewels which has led me lately should guide me, I 
 think that I should rebel, and I want to feel humble 
 to-day, Sybil."
 
 142 Vernon Grove. 
 
 How good and gentle he seemed to her to be growing ; 
 how that one wish for humility raised him in her eyes. 
 
 Xo louder sound of triumph rang from the silvery 
 tongue of the humble church, no higher pointed the 
 tapering spire up to the blue heavens, no greener waved 
 the churchyard trees as the quartette from Vernon Grove 
 alighted at the lowly portal ; the only change that could 
 be noticed was in the eyes of the simple villagers under 
 Mr. Clarke's care, as the unusual rustling of silken 
 garments attracted their attention, and for a moment 
 made them forgetful of their prayers; but could the 
 hearts of the new-comers have been examined as faith- 
 fully, they would have had fresh cause for wonder. 
 
 First came Vernon leaning upon the arm of the beauti- 
 ful girl, whom they have been accustomed to see treading 
 the aisle with downcast eyes alone ; then Isabel, arrayed 
 in all the mysteries of fashionable attire; and lastly 
 Florence, with a cloud upon her fair brow, all unfit for 
 that holy place. 
 
 And their hearts ? 
 
 Vernon was conscious of being in a strange situation 
 glad, yet confused ; satisfied, inasmuch as he thought 
 that he had done his duty, yet awkward'and nervous 
 because it was all so new, not having entered among 
 an vtliing like an assemblage of persons since the visitation 
 of his blindness, and knowing that many eyes were 
 curiously watching him. Isabel was looking with a 
 mixture of amusement and pity upon those " unfortunate 
 people," as she called them in a whisper to Florence, 
 whose bonnets were so many years behind the fashion, 
 and whose scant dresses excited her sympathy as she 
 swept imperially by, while Florence, alike indifferent
 
 Vernon Grove. 143 
 
 to place and people, only felt a bitter pang in her breast 
 that her proffered hand had been rejected by Vernon, 
 and his words, "I thank you, but Sybil will lead me 
 to-day," continued to sound in her ears far above the 
 peal of the Sabbath bells. 
 
 Even our pure Sybil's heart beat with a feeling that 
 was not all religion ; a joy scarcely dedicated to God 
 shone in her eyes, for Vernon was with her, and it was 
 a triumph, Vernon would soon be praying for peace 
 and pardon at her side. 
 
 The minister, under the influence of his new found 
 joy, preached solemnly and feelingly ; his life was so full 
 now of earthly happiness with his mother and sister well 
 provided for at last, looking witli pride upon their young 
 son and brother, and his bride with downcast eyes 
 listening to his words and rejoicing that she had chosen 
 so well, that he felt the need of some solemn self-admoni- 
 tion as a counterpoise to his intense happiness, lest he 
 should forget in his temporal felicity the heaven for 
 which he was striving. It was, then, with a deep sense 
 of his need of a reminder to keep him humble, that he 
 chose for his text, the words Keep thy heart with all 
 diligence, as especially required by him at this time, not 
 involving that part of his nature which was perishable, 
 bufc the spiritual heart and affections which belonged 
 exclusively to a higher state of being. 
 
 Life is full of contradictions, and Vernon, who a few 
 short hours. before had scoffingly spoken of religion as a 
 thing to be put on and off at pleasure, now acknowledged 
 to himself that it was the only one thing needful in life, and 
 as the words of the young minister seemed to him directly 
 addressed to him, laying bare his secret sins to his view,
 
 144 Vernon Grove. 
 
 wounding sometimes but oftener healing with their 
 gentleness and pity, he felt a glad joy within him that 
 he had come with Sybil a new light dawned upon him, a 
 new hope that even he might win the pardon which was 
 so freely offered ; and as they departed with the lingering 
 tone of the solemn benediction in their ears, he whispered 
 to his companion as he pressd her arm, "Thank you, 
 Sybil, for this day's experience." 
 
 " Thank God, rather," she said softly. 
 
 "And will you guide me here again, even one so 
 unworthy as I ?" 
 
 " The wish proves you not unworthy," she said. 
 
 " And can I come with you always ?" 
 
 " Always^ whispered Sybil joyfully. 
 
 Then they issued from the porch out beneath the 
 brilliant concave of the radiant heavens, and the sun lit 
 up Isabel's jewels with more dazzling light, and the gold- 
 tipped plume of Florence waved glancing in its rays, but 
 to the angel at the portal there was a brighter glory all 
 unseen by mortal eye around the blind man and his gentle 
 guide.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " The glittering dome, the arch, the towering column, 
 
 Are sights that greet us now on every hand, 
 And all so wild, so strange, so sweetly solemn 
 
 So like one's fancies formed of fairy land ! 
 And these then are your works, mysterious powers I 
 
 Tour spells are o'er, around us, and beneath, 
 These opening aisles, these crystal fruits and flowers, 
 
 And glittering grots, and high-arched beauteous bowers 
 As still as death!" 
 
 POEMS BY AMELIA. 
 
 IT cannot be wondered at that the fair ladies from the 
 city soon grew weary of their monotonous country life. 
 To be sure Isabel confessed that the roses had deepened 
 on her cheeks, and that Florence's complexion, owing to 
 early hours, had a peculiar richness about it which it 
 never displayed in the crowded saloons of fashion ; but a 
 month seemed to stretch out interminably before them, 
 and Vernon was at a loss to find entertainment for his 
 guests. 
 
 In him they were evidently disappointed ; not that he 
 lacked any of the attentions due from a host, but a 
 certain reserve towards Florence, who tried in vain to 
 dissipate it, threw a deep shadow over the whole party. 
 No word had been spoken about their former position, 
 except that chance illusion of Isabel's to other happy 
 times. No one would ever have imagined that a tie as 
 7
 
 146 Vernon Grove. 
 
 strong as an engagement had existed between Vernon 
 and Florence, and there appeared to be a tacit under- 
 standing that they were to act as if their footing had 
 only been a friendly one ; but behind this policy on the 
 part of the two friends, there was a bold design which 
 they hoped in time to put into execution, while Vernon, 
 on his side, merely cared to be on terms of politeness 
 with the woman who had once been so near and dear to 
 him, and not to reveal to her one secret emotion of 
 his heart. His aim was to be indifferent ; he wished 
 not even to let her see the whole extent of his scorn, 
 and dreaded still more to lift to her curious gaze the 
 curtain which shut out from her knowledge his deep 
 love for Sybil, but in this latter calculation he over-calcu- 
 lated his self-possession, for an event occurred which 
 matured the plans of Florence, and showed her how 
 Sybil was not only his household angel, but that she 
 guarded every avenue of the heart which she had once 
 called her own. 
 
 Reader, have you ever visited one of those curiosities 
 of the world of wonders, a natural cave ? If you have, 
 your reminiscences will be revived by the experiences of 
 the inmates of Veraon Grove ; if you have not, you 
 must enter with them for the first time on a dark and 
 mysterious scene. 
 
 Several miles from Vernon's residence there was one 
 of those freaks of nature long famed for its extent and 
 peculiarities, to which many a long and weary pilgri- 
 mage had been made by curious travellers from all climes 
 and countries. Vernon, remembering what he had 
 heard of its famed statuary, its Solomon's Temple, its 
 Pantheon, bethought him that a visit there might please
 
 Vernon Grove. 147 
 
 Sybil, and serve to vary somewhat the visit of his sister 
 and her friend, who, though too well bred openly to 
 confess their ennui, showed it consciously by many a 
 word and act. Vernon congratulated himself upon the 
 happy thought, and a party was formed, consisting of 
 the guests from the city, Vernon and Sybil, the young 
 minister and his wife, together with John, who, besides 
 being indispensable to Vernon, was to act as ya/e^-general 
 to the whole company. 
 
 After a long but not tedious drive to their place of 
 destination, for their spirits were high in contemplation 
 of the experiences which awaited them, they engaged 
 the services of a guide, and at once proceeded to 
 explore the cave. 
 
 Each one was provided with a lantern, and the first 
 step seemed that which was most to be dreaded, as the 
 aperture was too small to admit them standing upright, 
 and the darkness, in contrast with the light of day which 
 they were leaving behind them, quite appalling. Isabel 
 and Florence at first shrank from the undertaking as 
 something impossible to be achieved, but their curiosity 
 prevailed over their fears, and, moreover, i-eflecting 
 that they would be looked upon as heroines on their 
 return to the city when they described the wonders of 
 their visit to the cave, they entered, trembling at first, 
 with the rest, but soon lost all sense of terror hi enjoy- 
 ment, for no account which they had ever received of 
 the wonders there was equal to the strange, weird, 
 mysterious scene before them. 
 
 In the first chamber they entered, their guide assem- 
 bling the party all around him, warned them of the 
 perils which surrounded them, the more dangerous
 
 148 Vernon Grove. 
 
 often for being unseen. Sometimes, he told them, they 
 would walk on the brink of a towering precipice on the 
 margin of a river, flowing so noiselessly as to be unheard. 
 Then he informed them that but few comparatively of 
 the chambers in that wilderness of apartments had been 
 explored, and that hundreds of passages were all around 
 into which not even he had ever ventured ; and then, in 
 order to enforce upon them the necessity of their keeping 
 together, and above all, keeping him in view, he related 
 to them the sad story of a guide, who, like himself, had 
 been in the habit of taking parties through the cave, but 
 one day being alone, and having before expressed a 
 determination to explore some untrodden ground, had 
 never been seen again, being in all probability lost in 
 some of those myriad chambers, or drowned in a silent 
 and undiscovered stream. Then passing on to a still 
 more fearful story, he informed the breathless listeners 
 of the sad fate of a party of students, who, rejecting his 
 aid, and being determined to penetrate into the myste- 
 ries of the cavern themselves, had disappeared never to 
 return. At the end of the period when he thought that 
 they would require food and rest, and feeling somewhat 
 alarmed regarding their protracted absence, he had gone 
 in search of them, and after much laborious investiga- 
 tion, had discovered only their dead bodies in a part of 
 the cave which had never been explored before. 
 
 "These things I tell you," he continued, "not to 
 frighten or discourage you," as he looked around upon 
 our party, and saw by the light of the lanterns that 
 their faces were blanched with fear, " but merely to 
 warn you, repeating that there is no peril whatever if 
 you keep me in sight and attend closely to my direc-
 
 Vernon Grove. i4g 
 
 tions; and I promise you, on these conditions, only 
 pleasure, and something new under the sun to talk about 
 when you return to your homes." 
 
 Thus re-assured, the party entered cheerfully upon 
 their strange pilgrimage. 
 
 " Do I lose a great deal, Sybil ?" were Yernon's first 
 words when they emerged from the contracted passage 
 through which they had passed, and stood upright in a 
 fine chamber filled with figures that seemed by the 
 lamp light to resemble groups of statuary. 
 
 " That you do not see, is God's will," she said softly, 
 while a feeling of awe crept over her at the magnitude 
 and beauty of the scene before her. " You do lose a 
 great deal, and it is beyond description wonderful ; all 
 around us stand upright stalagmites in forms as varied 
 as the carvings and devices of art, and so correct is the 
 deception, that one could almost fancy different expres- 
 sions upon the carved faces of the figures. For instance, 
 not far from us is a Hebe, pouring out wine from a glit- 
 tering goblet, and yonder is a Neptune, with hoary 
 beard hanging down to his waist ; and now the guide 
 beckons us onward, and we are entering another 
 chamber, at the end of which is a throne, just as one 
 might conceive a real throne looks, all spangling with 
 jewels and crowned with a grand imposing seat, fit for 
 a king." 
 
 Vernon listened to his companion with a mixture of 
 pain and delight it was so tantalizing not to behold 
 what she did, and sympathise Avith her ; so sweet to feel 
 that lie was the special object of her care, and leaning 
 upon her arm to listen to her unstudied words, which 
 came with glad accents from her lips, and to think that
 
 150 Vernon Grove. 
 
 even though powerless himself, Sybil moved nearer to 
 his side, as though for protection, when the scenes through 
 which they passed assumed a gloomy or forbidding cha- 
 racter. 
 
 " Xow," she continued, in a lower tone, made audible 
 to Vernon alone, so that her voice might not interrupt 
 the descriptions or explanations of the guide, " we are 
 entering upon a scene of great beauty. This chamber 
 seems to be ceiled with shells, all starry and brilliant 
 with glistening stalactites ; the very heavens seem to be 
 overhead, and one feels as though he were in the open 
 air when looking upward. Did I not know to the con- 
 trary, I should think that I saw my favorite constella- 
 tions shining there, and I am sure that I can trace those 
 three gorgeous stars in Orion's belt ; after all it must be 
 the natural heavens seen through a gap in the walls of 
 this mystic cave." 
 
 " No," replied Vernon, " in that you are mistaken, 
 for I have often heard of this celebrated chamber and 
 the perfect deception of its star-paved ceiling." 
 
 A call from the guide now made them quicken their 
 lingering footsteps. 
 
 " Tread securely here," continued Sybil, as she guided 
 her companion carefully, "we are entering a passage 
 from which we shall have to ascend several steps ; and 
 now that we have left them, I think that we seem to be 
 emerging upon a remarkable scene. Oh ! that you could 
 see for yourself its marked peculiarities. Yonder in the 
 distance is a castle in ruins, huge pillars lie clustered 
 together, and broken arches appear, which one could 
 almost fancy to be crumbling to dust, so perfect is the 
 illusion. We might, without a great stretch of the imagi-
 
 Vernon Grove. 151 
 
 nation, fancy ourselves walking amid some celebrated 
 ruin of the old world. I would like to know if Mr. 
 Liuwood, with his varied experiences, has ever visited 
 a cave like this. Scenes far more grand I know that he 
 has beheld, but scarcely could this be equalled in the 
 peculiarity of its style." 
 
 " I think not," replied Yernon ; " I think that Lin- 
 wood has never been here or he would have mentioned 
 it to me; the catacombs of Rome awe one with the 
 same mysterious sensations, but then the associations 
 and whole aspect there are so different that I doubt 
 whether they should in any particular be compared. 
 When Linwood returns we must pay another visit here 
 on his especial account. Some people are so conscien- 
 tious about having seen the wonders of this new world, 
 as to refuse to travel abroad until they have been visited, 
 and indeed there is often an awkwardness about confes- 
 sing ignorance concerning scenes which are comparatively 
 so near to us, for almost the first question one hears 
 who goes sight-seeing abroad is, ' Well, I suppose that 
 you behold nothing here that surpasses your far-famed 
 Niagara,' taking it for granted that all Americans have 
 seen it, and that it lies at our very doors." 
 
 Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by an 
 exclamation from Isabel, which betokened a sudden sense 
 of delight, as they entered a large apartment which the 
 guide called the Ball Room. Enormous stalactites hung 
 pendant from the ceiling in the shape of chandeliers, 
 while a gallery at the head of the room, supported by 
 symmetrical pillars, seemed a fitting station for an 
 orchestra. The simple light of the lanterns of the visi- 
 tors was not enough to illuminate this large hall, the
 
 152 Vernon Grove. 
 
 guide therefore lit a multitude of candles, and as he 
 placed them in different points, the effect was curiously 
 perfect. Festoons of garlands seemed to droop from the 
 pillars, and candelabra to start from the walls. 
 
 "We only want music now," exclaimed Isabel to 
 Florence, "and a few choice spirits, to enjoy a dance; 
 how charming it would be !" 
 
 But Florence was in no mood to enjoy ; she could not 
 feel at ease while Vernon so exclusively appropriated 
 Sybil to himself, and she was tantalized too, by the low 
 tone in which they conversed, apparently upon subjects 
 of interest, and only waited for a fitting opportunity to 
 place herself in Sybil's stead at his side. 
 
 After passing through the Ball-Room, the party pro- 
 ceeded down a wide flight of steps, on through a narrow 
 passage, and from thence to a room called the Steeple 
 Room, from its containing a perfectly formed steeple 
 constructed of stalagmites rising to a considerable height 
 from the ground ; and then on, to perhaps the most 
 beautiful scene in the whole cave, a stalagmite mass of 
 white incrustations, which had the appearance of a grand 
 fall suddenly arrested in its downward course. The 
 timid bride, on beholding it, started back and clung 
 closer to her husband's arm as she approached it, for its 
 overhanging masses were so like a sheet of water that it 
 seemed as if it would momently inundate the whole 
 chamber. 
 
 In the next apartment, which was named the Ghost 
 Room, from the peculiar appearance the light cast upon 
 the walls, which were cragged and irregular, the guide, 
 taking away all the lanterns of the party, told them to 
 remain quietly in their places until he returned ; at least
 
 Vernon Grove. 153 
 
 by no means to move to any distance on account of the 
 dangers of Avhich he had warned them before, and leav- 
 ing them all in darkness, he withdrew into an adjoining 
 chamber. 
 
 It was certainly the blackness of darkness in which 
 they now found themselves ; not a ray of light pene- 
 trated the vaulted roof, and a sense of loneliness and ter- 
 ror pervaded each heart. 
 
 The guide did not remain away many minutes, but 
 during that time an incident occurred which lent a 
 deeper gloom to the spirits of one of the party than even 
 that which reigned about her ; and could Florence have 
 believed in earthly suffering as a retribution for the 
 pains she had inflicted on others, she must have thought 
 herself amply repaid then and there. She was standing 
 near Vernon on one side, while upon the other was Sybil, 
 ever faithful to her trust, whose arm was twined within 
 his own. 
 
 A few words were uttered by Isabel, a few jesting 
 careless words, followed by her own silvery laugh, but 
 no one joined it, the darkness seemed too solemn a thing 
 to jest about an incubus, a heavy hand, laid upon each, 
 commanding a serious mood, and as the last echo of that 
 ill-timed mirth died away, Florence bent forward to 
 catch the whispered tones of Sybil, who was speaking to 
 her companion. 
 
 " It was a thing to feel," she said, " this terrible gloom, 
 darker than night, dark as fabled Erebus ; to see it, to 
 see this blackness is nothing, but to feel it, oh, it is ter- 
 rible !" 
 
 " There is no difference to me, dear Sybil," was the 
 low answer heard by Florence, as well as by her to whom
 
 1^4 Vernon Grove. 
 
 it was addressed, "it is all alike night, chaotic night; 
 but I am not sorry to have brought you here, for you 
 can know in this intense gloom which you have described, 
 better how to feel for me." 
 
 "It did not require this experience," she returned, 
 " to call forth my entire sympathy ; you had that from 
 the first moment that I saw you, when, as a child, I gave 
 you my garland of flowers, but I confess that now I 
 realize what I never did before, the almost agony of 
 your eternal night, no beauty, no sky and stars, no glad, 
 cheering, cheerful light." 
 
 " Yes, there is one ray," he answered tenderly, " bright 
 as the torch of an angel, a gift from God's own treasury 
 of light, a ray as fresh and pure as that which first broke 
 the primeval gloom." 
 
 " I thought that it was all darkness," said Sybil, with 
 a glad tremor in her tone ; " then there may be hope 
 that one day in the future, science and skill combined 
 may give you sight again." 
 
 "You mistake my meaning, sweet enthusiast," he 
 answered, "that can never, never be. It was, as you 
 say, all darkness," he continued, turning his face towards 
 her until she felt his breath stirring the soft circlets of 
 her hair, " until one day when you came, Sybil, and that 
 blessed ray of light is simply what you brought with 
 you. I would rather be blind with it, than in the full 
 possession of my sight without it, God himself knows 
 that I would, Sybil." 
 
 Where were Richard Yernon's resolves ? What was 
 there in his words and his breath upon Sybil's brow, 
 what charm unfelt before, that brought that deep bright 
 blush, though all unseen to her face? Why did her
 
 Vernon Grove. 1 55 
 
 hand tremble as it lay confidingly upon his arm ; why 
 the quicker beating of that neighboring heart of hers ? 
 Did he not promise to gtiard his very tones, and yet his 
 lips were framing themselves to utter tender words, 
 which following upon that oath made so solemnly to 
 himself to regard her outwardly ever as a sister, would 
 have made him guilty of perjury. He was saved, 
 however, from that sin by an interruption unforeseen, 
 unexpected. 
 
 Another had heard those strong passionate words, 
 another who stood near, and it brought to her memory 
 his love-tones of the past ; her soul burned with jealousy 
 and the madness of a disappointed hope. If ever, now 
 was the time, she thought, to win him back to her sway, 
 and to free him from those invisible charms which Sybil 
 all unconsciously was throwing around him, and while 
 he waited for a word, a single word, or movement, or 
 sigh from Sybil in answer, he felt his hand, which was 
 near Florence, caught and held firmly by another cold, 
 untrembling hand, which he knew too well, and whispered 
 words of tenderness sounded close to his ear. 
 
 " Richard, Richard," said the voice brokenly, "forgive 
 and forget the past. I can explain it all. She does not 
 understand you ; she, that child, could never fathom the 
 depths of your soul as I have done, as I could do again. 
 I was weak, was wicked to wander from you as I did ; 
 forgive me and I will prove that I was false to you only 
 in appearance, not in truth ! They never loved who say 
 that they loved once, and oh, Richard, I have never 
 ceased loving you. Leave her, give her to some one 
 more congenial in years, in feelings, in experience ; she 
 is no mate for a world-tried, a world- worn man ; return
 
 156 Vernon Grove. 
 
 to one who has always loved you, and calls heaven to 
 witness her sincerity." 
 
 Sybil did not hear her, and if she had, not well could 
 she have connected those half-murmured, half-whispered 
 ejaculations, wrung from a maddened heart, which had 
 staked its happiness or misery upon that moment, nor 
 did she see that he had dashed that intruding hand away 
 from him with disgust, although she knew that he shud- 
 dered as though suffering some bodily pain, and his 
 answering words, emphatically spoken^he bent towards 
 Florence, reached her ear alone for whom they were 
 intended and dropped like melted lead upon her quiver- 
 ing heart. 
 
 " Florence Percy, the time has passed for such words 
 as you have just uttered ; they are meaningless to my 
 ears. Listen and judge for yourself what we might 
 have been is a dream, what we are a reality ; believe me 
 when I say to you that I feel each day more and more 
 this truth the affection, which I thought I had for you 
 once, was merely a passing fancy, unworthy even the 
 name of love. Stand aside, there is no ground upon 
 which you and I can meet ; stand aside." 
 
 lie had almost cursed her, and yet in his heart of 
 hearts he blessed her for one thing ; she had reminded 
 him of his duty. Thank God, he thought, those burn- 
 ing words to Sybil had remained unspoken ; thank God, 
 she was standing calmly by him still all unconscious of 
 his struggle, all unconscious of the bitter words, " she is 
 no mate for a world-worn, world-tried man," which had 
 brought him back to reason and the memory of his 
 vow. 
 
 The guide returned with the light and found a lady
 
 Vernon Grove. 157 
 
 faint, but it was a common occurrence, he said, in that 
 fearful darkness, where the coming lanterns made such 
 unearthly light on the walls of the Ghost Chamber, and 
 taking a cup of water from a neighboring spring, he 
 presented it to Florence, whose dry quivering lips it 
 moistened and refreshed. 
 
 From this point, the Ghost Room, our party retraced 
 their steps, and examined with new delight the varied 
 beauties of the cave, finding many which they had 
 before passed unnoticed. In one of the chambers, Sybil 
 became quite interested in noting the formation of some 
 pieces of rock crystal which she saw of singular beauty, 
 and desiring a specimen, she left Vernon's arm for a 
 moment, giving him in charge of John, in order to 
 examine it more attentively, and to try to break off a 
 tempting cluster which met her view. Bending down 
 apart from the others, whose attention was attracted by 
 something else, and absorbed in looking at the glittering 
 crystal as it seemed momently to take new forms of 
 beauty, she did not hear the call from the guide, nor 
 see that her companions had left the chamber in which 
 she was, and had tui-ned an abrupt angle, and proceeding 
 quickly through an apartment which had nothing curious 
 about it to attract their attention, had passed on still 
 farther to one of more spacious proportions and extra- 
 ordinary beauty. 
 
 Here the guide, as was his custom, began to call the 
 attention of the visitors to the curiosities around, when 
 he suddenly paused, and with a troubled expression on 
 his face, counted the party as he had often done during 
 the day, to see that none were missing ; then in a tone 
 which thrilled like a death-knell upon his listeners, he
 
 158 Vernon Grove. 
 
 said words which they never forgot. They were 
 these. 
 
 One of our party is not here ! 
 
 Then came back to them his remembered words of 
 warning, his terrible stories of death by starvation or 
 dro wning, and the question, Who is it f rang like a 
 clarion from every lip, and when each inquired for those 
 who were dearest and missed them not, and Vernon for 
 her who was his nearest and dearest, and heard no 
 answering voice, his anguish escaped from him in one 
 mad fearful cry, that rang through the vaulted rooms 
 like the voice of one calling the beloved dead back again 
 to life. It was a cry of agony seldom heard by mortal ear, 
 that one piercing, echoing, and re-echoing word, "Sybil." 
 
 But no answer came. 
 
 Then all felt and knew that it was she ; the guide, 
 that it was the fair-haired girl, whose face and floating 
 form seemed to him like an angel's ; the bride and her 
 young husband, that it was she whose voice rose on each 
 Sabbath into praise and prayer, and from Avhoae gentle 
 eyes beamed the holy joy of some saint-like Madonna ; 
 Isabel, that it was the child-woman who had presided so 
 gracefully in her brother's house, and who had tried in 
 every way to make their visit to the Grove a happy one, 
 and who had read and talked to them, or sang tune after 
 tune to their craving ears, wearied never, so that they 
 Avere entertained ; and Florence, that it was that Sybil 
 Gray, who had dared to step in between her and her 
 ambition, and had plucked the only flower in her path ; 
 and Yernon, that it was she who was his very life. 
 
 " Sybil, Sybil !" that mad despairing cry, louder and 
 louder now upon every lip, gave to Vernon a still more
 
 Vernon Grove. 159 
 
 realizing sense of her danger, and he was about to go 
 himself in pursuit of the lost one, when the guide, in a 
 voice of authority, besought him and all, on the peril of 
 their lives, to remain where they were. It would avail 
 nothing, he said, for the whole party to go in search of 
 her, even in company with him, for they necessarily 
 would retard his progress, and departing alone in differ- 
 ent directions would be madness, for to all who attempted 
 it would come the same fate as that of the unfortunate 
 students whom he had before mentioned. For his part, 
 he concluded, in his little address as they stood anxiously 
 around him, he supposed that she was waiting patiently 
 for them in the Lime Crystal Chamber, where they had 
 last seen her, and he thought it the best and most practi- 
 cal plan for all to accompany him there, where no doubt 
 they would find her smiling at their alarm ; but if that 
 room were deserted and no traces could be discovered 
 of her, he would take the servant John, and at once 
 proceed to a systematic search, while the party remained 
 awaiting his return. 
 
 This advice was so plausible, and any other course of 
 conduct seemed so wild and impracticable, that all 
 acquiesced in his views, and Vernon, pale and anxious 
 beyond all the others, could not but express his satisfac- 
 tion in what he had proposed. 
 
 At every two or three steps, the guide, as he led the 
 party back, sounded the peculiar hallo ! which is heard 
 furthest in that dreary cavern, and the name of the 
 missing one was shouted from time to time by the dif- 
 ferent members of the party ; but alas, the only answer 
 was a dreary silence, or a still more dreary echo, until 
 at last they reached the Lime Crystal Chamber.
 
 160 Vernon Grove. 
 
 But Sybil was not there ! 
 
 Then the guide, more anxious than he dared acknow- 
 ledge, hurriedly bade them be of good cheer, and taking 
 John with him, disappeared through one of the dark 
 entrances, though perplexed to know which one of the 
 many that led out of the apartment she could have taken. 
 
 Even Isabel's gay mood was softened, and with a 
 transition common to such natures as hers, felt from one 
 extreme to another, and burst into a passion of tears. 
 The young minister and his wife, clinging more closely 
 together, as though fearful that some fate might come to 
 tear them apart from each other, retired to a distant part 
 of the room, and their religious natures found vent in an 
 earnest prayer for Sybil's welfare. 
 
 Florence alone seemed calm and self-possessed ; yes, 
 she who awhile ago stood with colorless face and faint 
 limbs in the dark chamber, now appeared mistress of a 
 wonderful self-command ; her cold searching eye looking 
 around upon the excited group with a heartless curiosity. 
 But upon Vernon she gazed most frequently, as he sat 
 with his head bowed upon his knees in mute despair, 
 lifting his pale face at intervals if the slightest noise 
 reached his ears, or clenching his hands as if his blindness 
 were a curse and the guide a cruel jailor to keep him 
 passive there, while Florence, from these mingled emo- 
 tions, read with a smile of triumphant scorn upon her 
 beautiful face, only the tale of a love that would give its 
 life for the beloved one, and she read aright.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Hark ! hear ye not those echoes ringing after, 
 
 Our gliding step my spirit faints with fear, 
 Those mocking tones, like subterranean laughter 
 Or does the brain grow wild with wondering here I 
 There may be spectres wild and forms appalling 
 
 Our wandering eyes, where'er we rove, to greet 
 Methinks I hear their low sad voices calling 
 Upon us now, and far away the falling 
 Of phantom feet." 
 
 POEMS BY AMELIA. 
 
 " A new life, like a young sunrise, breaks 
 On the strange unrest of the night." BROWNING. 
 
 WHEN Sybil turned from her examination of the 
 crystals she found that the party had gone, but feeling 
 no difficulty about following them, turned into the 
 nearest chamber which she observed, supposing it to be 
 the only one besides that by which she had entered, and 
 pursued its winding course for some distance. At length, 
 being a little anxious about not having overtaken them, 
 she called several times but with no response, until a 
 thought of terror came to her, blanching her face and 
 causing her limbs to tremble, the thought of being lost, 
 and she quickened her pace, not knowing that each step 
 led her farther from her friends. 
 
 At last the truth burst upon her that she was indeed 
 alone and forsaken in that terrible place, so full of unseen
 
 162 Vernon Grove. 
 
 perils. The moment was a fearful one in which she 
 realized her situation ; she shouted in agony for help, she 
 called upon Vernon until her voice grew hoarse and only 
 whispered vainly his name; her eyes peered into the 
 darkness until they were blood-shot with the straining ; 
 a cold chill crept over her ; her voice grew fainter in its 
 hoarse whispers and perfectly unmanageable ; her limbs 
 were faint. Pausing awhile to reflect upon her situation, a 
 vision of the poor lost guide, of whom she had heard, came 
 to her memory, and she determined that she would 
 remain stationary, hoping that some one would compas- 
 sionately follow her to the apartment where she was; 
 it was better to do that, she thought, than to rush on 
 into some unseen peril. Still the remembrance of the 
 lost guide would not depart from her ; perhaps even now 
 she might be treading upon his bones, and with that 
 sickening thought she raised her lantern to see if the 
 place were at all familiar to her, and to assure herself 
 that at least no unsightly skeleton kept her company; 
 but moving one step farther on, her foot struck upon 
 some unseen obstacle, throwing her down upon the 
 ground, while her lantern was rudely forced from her 
 hand by the shock ; the light flickered more brightly for 
 a moment and then was entirely extinguished, leaving 
 her upon the cold slimy ground in utter darkness. 
 Groping about she raised herself from her prostrate 
 attitude, and leaning against a broken stalagmite forma- 
 tion, gave herself up to retrospection and prayer. 
 
 As in the case of a person who is about to be drowned, 
 a panorama of his whole life is presented in an instant of 
 time, so did Sybil Gray conjure up all the past scenes of 
 her life, and all whom in her short career she had ever
 
 Vernon Grove. 163 
 
 known. First she thought of her grandmother, who 
 had been alike father and mother to her, lying at home 
 lonely and ill, with no tender hands of grandchild or 
 relation to arrange her pillows or smooth down her scant 
 grey locks ; then of Isabel, so kind and yet so changeable, 
 sometimes treating her as a companion and then as a 
 child or plaything ; of Vernon and his helpless blindness, 
 of his devotion to her through the long years of the past 
 what could he, what would he do without her ? Then 
 Florence's superb eyes flashed upon her in the darkness, 
 and she thought of her ; would she guide and guard him 
 when they had relinquished all hope of finding her, and 
 would he call her his ray of light in the darkness, and 
 would they become reconciled and love each other as 
 they once did ? Then the perfect happiness of the young 
 bride and bridegroom came to her mind, and she mur- 
 mured to herself how sweet it must be to love and to be 
 loved, and to have one in the wide world who would be 
 glad to hear every thought as it came unstudied from the 
 mind, and to sit with clasped hands, as they did, feeling 
 sure that they were dear to each other. Then at length 
 her vivid imagination wandered to Europe, that world 
 of wonders, where Albert Lin wood painted those beautiful 
 angel-like heads. She wondered what he would say when 
 he heard that little Sybil Gray's bones were mouldering 
 in the silence of that fearful cave. 
 
 The humblest person, the minutest thing in her event- 
 ful life, were all remembered, until at last the memory 
 turned upon herself, and her soul melted in pity for that 
 poor, beating, fluttering heart of hers, and tears chased 
 each other silently down her cheeks, while her hands
 
 164 Vernon Grove. 
 
 clasped her throat, as if to repress the choking sensation 
 which seemed to deprive her of breath. 
 
 " They will search for me and will not find me," she 
 sobbed ; " I shall grow faint, and hungry, and tired here, 
 and like others, shall wander about and never be heard 
 of more ; some treacherous stream will engulf me, or I 
 shall starve, day by day, until I die a horrible death." 
 
 Then pity, self pity, turned to madness, and she clasped 
 her delicate hands together wildly, and beat her head 
 against the senseless rock ; then extending her hands as 
 if to ward off some demon, which in her madness she 
 had conjured up, thinking that with hungry eyes it 
 approached her, she uttered a despairing shriek and 
 struck them against a hard substance near, when a roll, 
 like the heavy tone of a deep bass drum, a sort of knell, 
 to departing hope, sounded, and sent new terror into her 
 soul. She did not know then that there was a room 
 within the cave called the Drum Room, which was so 
 named from a thin stalactite partition extending from the 
 ceiling to the floor, and which emits, by even a gentle 
 tap, a tone like distant thunder. Had she known this 
 she might have kept her consciousness, and even through 
 her madness have had returning gleams of reason ; but 
 the poor girl only read in its sepulchral unearthly tone, 
 a confirmation of her terrible fate, a sort of "Amen" to 
 the shriek with which she filled the cavern, and she rose 
 to fly, anywhere, anywhere, on, on, even if it proved to 
 her certain death, which would be preferable to that 
 cruel, prolonged, suffering life. But she was not equal 
 to the effort ; her strength suddenly forsook her, and she 
 fell with a pitiful moan upon the ground, insensible, with
 
 Vernon Grove. 165 
 
 scarcely a sign of life about her save in the faint fluttering 
 of her heart. 
 
 At peace at last, because unconscious ! Unconscious of 
 the darkness, the horror, the damp cold rock which pil- 
 lowed her head ; oblivious to memory, to cheating hope, to 
 life itself. It was a peace like that one sometimes hopes 
 to find in the silent grave when weary of the jar, the tears, 
 the trials, the sorrows of existence. The storm had done 
 its worst ; sail, and mast, and pennon, had been torn away 
 from the graceful bark in the struggle with the elements, 
 till at last it had sunk fathoms deep, out of reach of storm 
 or wind, resting peacefully at length amid the coral shores. 
 
 Poor driven bark, poor crazed, helpless, unconscious 
 Sybil ! And it was thus that the kind guide found her, 
 but no effort of his could rouse her from her death-like 
 stupor. He was a powerful man, used to fatigue and 
 exertion of every kind, and though his outward bearing 
 was rough, he had the heart of a woman, and he gazed 
 upon the poor child somewhat as a mother would look 
 upon a helpless infant, blessing her sweet white face, 
 and feeling a joy, in rescuing her, that he had not known 
 in his monotonous life for years. Then he stooped, and 
 lifting her in his arms, carried her tenderly back to her 
 friends, talking to her all the while in comforting words 
 as though she heard and understood him, bidding her to 
 be patient, for she would soon be with them again, asking 
 her if her drooping form lay easily upon his strong 
 muscular arm, and changing her position several times 
 for fear that she might be wearied. 
 
 It was well that Vernon's eyes were closed to the 
 touching sight as they entered ; it would have been too 
 sad a spectacle for one who loved her so tenderly.
 
 166 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Long before they entered, the word " Found !" uttered 
 by tlie guide in a voice which could be heard at some 
 distance, sent a thrill to his heart that he never forgot, 
 and had it not been for the persuasions of the rest ot 
 the party, he would have rushed forward to meet her, 
 but they reminded him of the guide's express injunc- 
 tions and the danger of intricate passages, and he con- 
 sented at last to Avait, though each succeeding moment 
 seemed to swell to an hour's duration. 
 
 At length they entered, her slight form borne on the 
 stalwart arm of the guide, while with his free hand he 
 held his lantern aloft so that the light struck immedi- 
 ately upon her pallid face. Her position was so helpless 
 that it was hard to distinguish it from death, for her 
 head Avas inclined backward and her long fair hair had 
 escaped from its fastening and was trailing on the 
 ground, while her arms fell in that drooping position 
 which the limbs of the lifeless always have before they 
 become stiffened with cold. It was to the bystanders 
 indeed death, though without its ungraceful rigidity. 
 
 " Is she dead ?" asked Isabel inadvertently, as they 
 entered, and the group gathered round the guide 
 anxious to know every particular from his lips. 
 
 " Oh, my God, not dead !" was all that Vernon could 
 say, " she cannot, she must not die ;" while he pressed 
 his hands tightly over his blinded eyes as if to invoke 
 sight therefrom, that he might assure himself of her 
 real condition. 
 
 " Oh, no, not dead ; at least not just yet," said the 
 guide compassionately, and yet fearing to raise Vernon's 
 hopes too much, " but she is in a swoon so deep that we 
 cannot hope for her recovery (if she ever wakes) for
 
 Vernon Grove. 167 
 
 some hours. In the meantime, we must hurry onward, 
 and as you, Mr. Vernon, require no lantern and have 
 both arms free, strong arms upon which to cradle the 
 poor child, you must carry her as carefully as you can, 
 while John will guide you, but remember it is a long 
 way and a weary one, and if you find that your burden 
 becomes too heavy for you, I will take her awhile again 
 until you get rested." 
 
 She was transferred to Vernon's arms in silence, as 
 though they were watching a corpse. All looked upon 
 that beautiful still face with sympathetic pity, and many 
 of the eyes there were filled with tears ; some over- 
 flowed, but Florence's were tearless, and a fire flashed 
 from them as she saw that gentle head pillowed on 
 Vernon's breast, and the procession, so full of enjoy- 
 ment in the morning, passed in solemn silence along, 
 while all unheeded were the varied forms of beauty that 
 lined their path. 
 
 And what were Vernon's emotions as his arms enfolded 
 that beloved form ? Grow weary of her f Ask assist- 
 ance from any one though the way were twice, ay, thrice 
 as long? Ah, no, it was too sweet a burden that he 
 bore. She seemed but a feather in his arms as he held 
 her there heart to heart, with her unbound hair waving 
 at times upon his very lips, and as thus he walked from 
 the darkness into the light of day without, a vision 
 seemed to come to him as he held her there, false 
 perchance, but still blessed because it included her. 
 The cave appeared to him as earth, and its devious 
 perplexed ways, and the sunlight without, the opening 
 heaven, then a wild blissful thought entered his heart,
 
 168 Vernon Grove. 
 
 cheating him with its brilliant coloring, that even thus 
 one day might he hope to enter heaven. 
 
 Often in tenderest accents he whispered her name, 
 but the still lips gave no answer; then imagining that 
 her swoon was truly death, he placed his hand upon her 
 heart re-assured by its feeble fluttering that life was yet 
 there. Often, too, his soul was torn with cruel fancies, 
 and he feared that from that corpse-like repose she 
 might suddenly wake to madness, and his footsteps 
 quickened to reach the outer world and to know the 
 worst. 
 
 At last they gained the entrance of the cave, and the 
 fresh breezes of heaven brought something like con- 
 sciousness to the insensible girl. Opening her eyes for 
 a moment she looked vacantly around and sighed, then 
 a faint smile played around her lips and she nestled 
 more closely to Vernon's breast. 
 
 "Thank God," said Vernon, fervently, as he heard 
 that life-like sigh. 
 
 His voice seemed to arrest her attention, though she 
 appeared to try in vain to unclose her eyes again, and 
 her lips moved as though she were dreaming, while a 
 few whispered words which Vernon's quick ear heard, 
 made his heart throb wildly while she spoke. 
 
 "Oh, it was a terrible dream," the Avhite lips mur- 
 mured, " but it is over now ; the longed-for peace has 
 come at last." 
 
 " Sybil, dearest, my own beloved," whispered Vernon, 
 forgetting all his noble plans of concealment, " God is 
 good ; He did not, will not take you from me ;" but the 
 impassioned words were all unheard, she only, like a
 
 Vernon Grove. 169 
 
 tired child, drew closer to his bosom, not even knowing 
 where her head was pillowed, and soon Vernon heard 
 her breathing in the calm sleep which betokens life and 
 health. 
 
 At this a new joy and strength rose in his soul, and 
 he felt there was still something bright in life Sybil 
 would live then he yielded to the guide's remon- 
 strances and gave her up to the care of his wife, who 
 laid her upon her own pleasant couch, and used restora- 
 tives which completely aroused her to consciousness. 
 Then Sybil begged to be taken home, and when told 
 that she was too much exhausted for the drive, with 
 almost childish petulance she prayed to be carried to her 
 own room, knowing in its familiar precincts, with her 
 books around her, the soft landscape without, and Lin- 
 wood's calm picture of Evening within, that she would 
 soon be restored. So they yielded to her entreaties, 
 and entering their carriages with the blessing of the 
 kind guide and his wife, who had reason, from the tan- 
 gible reward which Vernon left them, to remember the 
 day, they were soon on their way to Vernon Grove. 
 
 Sybil and Vernon were alone ; he could not yield her 
 to the care of another while she was still so weak and 
 helpless, and when lie found that she was unable to sit 
 up, he drew her head upon his bosom and she rested 
 gratefully there. She smiled her thanks, too prostrated 
 in mind and body to utter many words, but remem- 
 bering that he could not see such an acknowledgment, 
 said with earnest simplicity, " JSTow I know your worth, 
 my kind brother; what should I do without your 
 friendly support ?" 
 
 Vernon shuddered, but it was thus that he had taught 
 8
 
 lyo Vernon Grove. 
 
 her to address him. Words of passionate affection qui- 
 vered on his lips, but even had he dared break his vow, 
 that was no time or place, when lying there still trem- 
 bling and frightened, to tell her that the heart, near 
 which she nestled, was beating, wildly beating, with any- 
 thing but a brother's love for her who rested there. 
 
 Home being reached, Sybil insisted upon visiting her 
 grandmother's room, but finding her well cared for and 
 still in that imbecile childish state in which she had left 
 her, gave herself up into the kind housekeeper's care, 
 who brought her some simple nourishment and insisted 
 upon her retiring at once to her own room. There, 
 after a fervent prayer to God for her deliverance, and an 
 upward look at her favorite picture, which she had 
 remembered so faithfully and well, together with a 
 thought if he who painted it had ever dreamed while he 
 was executing it of the calming power it would possess, 
 she fell into a slumber like an infant's, as profound and 
 as innocent. 
 
 Vernon's inward struggle was too strong for sleep. 
 " She calls me only what I taught her," said he bitterly, 
 in the loneliness of the night, " but that word brother, 
 though so tenderly uttered, chilled me through and 
 through. Ah, never can I be to her anything but that, 
 for have I not vowed it ? And besides, she regards me 
 only as such, and any knowledge of my love for her 
 might annoy and disgust her, bereaving me even of a 
 sister's affection." Then he made renewed vows of 
 concealment, praying fervently that God would make 
 him content that she should be the guardian angel of 
 his life. 
 
 It is a mad thing for a man to enter the lists against
 
 Vernon Grove. 171 
 
 such a mighty power as Love, who even with folded or 
 clipped wings can scale the heavens, or break through 
 walls of adamant ; and it was a new discipline for Ver- 
 non to guard himself against the thousand ways in which 
 his heart was assailed by the tempter, where inclination 
 invited its approach, and principle forbade it. It was a 
 life struggle in which strength was opposed to an 
 almost equal strength, but w r ith Sybil's welfare on his 
 side Vernon hoped eventually for victory.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Alas ! the love of women ! it is known 
 
 To be a lovely and a fearful thing; 
 For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, 
 
 And if 'tis lost, life has no more to bring 
 To them but mockeries of the past alone." 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 " And underneath that lace, like summer's oceans, 
 
 Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, 
 Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions 
 Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow all save fear." 
 
 HALLECK. 
 
 IT has been said by some writer that, in every room of 
 an inhabited house, either a tragedy or a comedy is 
 being enacted, and could we follow the footsteps of a 
 Faust, it would be easy to lift the curtains which hide 
 them from view, but a privilege accorded to him is also 
 given to the writer, who would weave into his story 
 somewhat of the inner life of those whom he portrays. 
 In one of the rooms of the mansion at Vernon Grove, 
 on her return from the excursion to the cave, sat Isabel 
 Clayton, far other than the gay careless woman of the 
 world that it was her ambition to be. She had dismissed 
 her attendant abruptly, and seating herself at the win- 
 dow, was looking out with sad eyes into the prospect 
 beyond. She seemed for once indifferent to appearances, 
 for a thin shawl only covered her undraped shoulders,
 
 Vernon Grove. 173 
 
 and a simple white robe falling around her, had nothing 
 in it of the effect which she daily studied in her fashion- 
 able attire. 
 
 Her face had all the requisites of beauty, and yet upon 
 close examination, one might have detected there, per- 
 haps in the lines about the mouth, weakness lurking amid 
 the strength which was the characteristic of her other 
 features. 
 
 She was restless, unhappy it would seem on this night, 
 for with a quick impatient movement she closed the 
 window, and taking a book in her hand tried to read, 
 actually making an effort to prevent her eyes wandering 
 from the page which she had opened, but with another 
 hasty exclamation, she shut it again, and extinguishing 
 her lamp, returned to the window, and throwing back 
 the blind to its full extent, let a flood of silvery moon- 
 light into the room. That wistful gaze, those hands 
 pressed convulsively upon her heart, told that she, too, 
 shared the doom entailed upon those of mortal birth, 
 for she, in common with all, had her secret sorrow, her 
 unsatisfied want, and her broken soliloquy revealed at 
 once the character of her unfulfilled desire. 
 
 " Could it only be ;" she murmured, "this one passion- 
 ate wish of my heart, how my whole life would change; 
 how with such a gift bestowed upon me, would this 
 craving, which the world knows not of, be satisfied. I 
 would love her as they tell me only mothers can love, 
 my existence would be merged in her little life ; popu- 
 larity, the approval of the frivolous and fashionable, 
 would be nought to me then, except as far as it admini- 
 stered to the wellbeing of my child, and when years had 
 passed I should have a companion to cheer me when
 
 174 Vernon Grove. 
 
 the time comes, as come it must to all, when the 
 shadows lengthen in the way. Her little feet would 
 exchange the bounding steps of childhood for the more 
 stately pace of womanhood, and like Sybil, she would 
 shed the sunshine of her loveliness all around ; but God 
 wills it not to be," she continued more moodily, and 
 with a sudden flow of scalding tears ; " and to-morrow, 
 and the next day, and for ever, I must appear to be happy 
 still ; play my part and be applauded ; still cheat Clay- 
 ton into the belief, though a child would be to him an 
 idol, that our happiness is too complete to be in- 
 creased." 
 
 Scarcely had the deep sigh which followed these words 
 escaped her, when a gentle knock at her door made her 
 hastily dry her tears, and almost before she had forced 
 back the habitual smile to her lips, Florence entered 
 her friend's presence. 
 
 Isabel started at her appearance. 
 
 She was as pale as death and almost as cold; her 
 magnificent black hair was thrust back from her brow, 
 and her lips were quivering with unspoken words of 
 passion, while her eyes, those glittering oriental eyes, 
 had a glare in them that was almost madness. Over her 
 undress was thrown, like drapery over a statue, a white 
 cashmere robe, which gave to the outline of her figure 
 the almost stolid appearance of some antique marble 
 form. Walking noiselessly up to Isabel as she sat at the 
 window, she paused, while the pure moonlight clothed 
 her magnificent figure in a sheen of silver light, then 
 raising her arm slowly as if to give more emphasis to her 
 words, she looked down into Isabel's upraised and won- 
 dering eyes, and said with a mixture of passion and
 
 Vernon Grove. 175 
 
 despair, " Isabel, you saw it, as did I ; he loves her and 
 he is lost to me for ever." 
 
 The impressive action, the slow, emphatic utterance 
 of the words, the dreamy moonlight, the mysterious 
 figure of Florence, all combined to make an exquisite 
 picture, and Isabel, with perceptions always alive to the 
 beautiful, in a playful tone, told Florence her impressions, 
 but the latter stopped her at once by a gesture of im- 
 patience. Sinking down at her friend's feet, she clasped 
 her hands, and looking earnestly into her face, spoke 
 again, though in a softer tone. 
 
 " Isabel, do you love me ?" she asked. 
 
 " You know that I do," said Isabel tenderly ; " have 
 we not been children together, have not our heads pressed 
 the same pillow, and our hearts been open to each other 
 for years ; and to sum up all my affection for you in a 
 little sentence, do I not wish you to be my sister and 
 Richard's wife ?" 
 
 Those last words brought a flush to Florence's cheek 
 so radiant, that even in the moonlight, Isabel saw it 
 crimson her upturned face. 
 
 " Isabel," she answered, as she rose once more to her 
 feet and stood there again like a statue, but a statue 
 endowed with quick life, " you say that you love me, 
 and I trust you ; but your idea of affection and mine 
 may be different. I will tell you what it is to love ; it 
 is to be all, endure all for a beloved object ; it is to lose 
 sight of self entirely, to merge yourself in another's 
 welfare ; can you be all, endure all for me, and thus prove 
 your love ?" f 
 
 Isabel grew frightened at Florence's voice and man- 
 ner " What is it," she asked, " that you want me to
 
 176 Vernon Grove. 
 
 do ; perhaps it is more than one human being ought to 
 promise to another." 
 
 " I will lay my whole soul bare before you, and then 
 you can judge," was the answer. " Isabel, when I 
 entered this house, it was my ambition, mark me, my 
 ambition, to second your wish and be Richard's wife. 
 I respect him, he is rich and noble, and therefore no mean 
 mark for one of my aspiring character, and my ambition 
 could have desired nothing farther ; but a change has 
 come over the spirit of my dream, and but one feeling 
 reigns in my breast, but one emotion stirs my pulses, one 
 thought actuates me now. Ask me not how it came, or 
 what provoked it ; if it was his dependent position on 
 others which calls for tenderness, if the almost forgotten 
 past, with the cruel part I played then, returns and up- 
 braids me, I know not, care not, but that one feeling is 
 love for your brother, so intense, so absorbing, that I 
 would willingly give up all my dreams of distinction and 
 wealth, and even were he reduced to poverty, these 
 hands would gladly guide him, toil for him, this body 
 suffer and die for him. Now do you understand. I must 
 win him, and you alone can help me to do it." 
 
 " And what stands in the way ?" said Isabel, " never 
 did a task appear to me easier ; you have all that even 
 a most fastidious man would require for his happiness, 
 beauty, genius, and all the fine qualities of the heart ; 
 win him and be happy." 
 
 " I see that you do not understand me," said Florence 
 with fretful impatience, " there is an obstacle in the way 
 which is not so easy to set aside." 
 
 " What a coward you are," said Isabel, taking her 
 hand affectionately, "for such a queen-like, grand-
 
 Vernon Grove. 177 
 
 looking Avoman. Never yield to an obstacle, never 
 let it frighten you into inaction ; discard it, throw it 
 away, scatter it to the winds, crush it under foot. Is it 
 so mighty that it can neither be displaced by time nor 
 energy ?" 
 
 " Discard it, throw it away, crush it under foot !" was 
 the response, " he guards her with too jealous a love ; 
 that obstacle, Isabel, is Sybil Gray /" 
 
 Isabel's silvery laugh rang through the room, a strange 
 contrast to the deep earnest tone of Florence. 
 
 " Sybil Gray, little Sybil Gray ! she laughed. " She, 
 then, is your formidable rival. Would you put the half- 
 hidden violet in competition with the rose, shone upon 
 and brightened by heaven's own coloring? Why, 
 Florence, your obstacle has diminished into nothingness. 
 She is a mere child compared with Richard, and besides, 
 do you not see that she often calls him ' brother,' and 
 treats him like one ? Do not let her for a moment come 
 between him and your wishes and plans. But stay ; if 
 you fear her influence at ah 1 , leave the matter entirely to 
 me. I will tell Richard that she requires a change, first, 
 in consequence of her long devotion to him in his sick- 
 room, and second, because of the events of to-day, 
 which will necessarily have an effect upon her bodily 
 health. Convince him of this, and it will be an easy 
 task for us to persuade him to allow her to go with us to 
 the city. Once there, her wonderful beauty and gift of 
 song wall attract many admirers, and soon, surrounded 
 by men enraptured with her loveliness, the child will 
 discover that she requires something more than Richard's 
 quiet approval of all that she does, and then we can 
 make a match for her to our liking. But mark me, 
 8*
 
 ) 78 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Florence," continued Isabel in a more serious tone, " it 
 must be what the world calls a god match in all points, 
 for I love the artless innocent creature almost as much 
 as I love you. The difference between you is, that you 
 appeal to me with your noble gorgeous beauty and your 
 devotion to myself, while she binds me with her more 
 quiet and nameless graces and fascinations." 
 
 " With these she has w y on your brother's love," said 
 Florence scornfully. 
 
 " I will take care to have her debtit a brilliant one," 
 said Isabel, not minding the interruption, " and she must 
 and will create a sensation. Richard will soon forget 
 her, and then we can pay him a second visit when she 
 has left him for another's home and love, and there will 
 no longer be a Sybil Gray to stand between you and 
 your happiness." 
 
 Two beautiful creations they were, Florence clasping 
 Isabel's hand, Isabel's face wearing a pleased satisfied 
 expression at having arranged such a feasible plan for 
 her friend, whose countenance was the very picture of 
 Hope, and the bright moonlight flooding both with its 
 silvery glory. 
 
 " How kind you are, dearest," whispered Florence. 
 
 " Should I not be kind to my sister ?" returned Isabel. 
 
 "Hush," said Florence, in a playful tone of warning, 
 "be not too sure, for nothing in life is certain ;" but even 
 while she spoke, her heart fluttered wildly, her eyes 
 glistened, and she pressed a kiss upon Isabel's lips as a 
 seal to her welcome words ; then with a more buoyant 
 step than that with which she had entered, she departed 
 to her own room. The light, the loveliness of extreme 
 youth seemed to have returned to her once more ; her
 
 Vernon Grove. 179 
 
 eyes shone through a dewy moisture, her voice broke 
 unconsciously into song, whose burden was passionate 
 affection ; then she looked out upon the glorious night 
 as she had never looked before, with a new interest, a 
 new life, while her lips whispered a few words, an index 
 to the bewildering sensation which made her so buoy- 
 antly happy : " This, they say, is love, this feeling 
 which makes the air softer, the heart lighter, the whole 
 world more glorious;" then their rich com I curled as 
 though in scorn, her hands closed tightly, and a fiercer 
 light burned in her eyes as a vision of a fair-haired girl, 
 with a floating step, passed before her; and she paced 
 the floor with the air of a conquering queen, swept back 
 the waving hair from her shoulders, and again the lips 
 whispered or rather hissed other words, all unfit to have 
 issued from her clenched teeth, the ivory portal through 
 which they passed ; " and this is hate and triumph /" 
 
 And Sybil slept on, her white hands crossed meekly 
 upon her breast, her golden tresses shading her seraphic 
 brow, upon her lips a smile, and in her breast the quiet 
 of a heart at peace with herself and all the world, little 
 dreaming that over her hovered those angels of destruc- 
 tion, marking out her future, and plotting for her very 
 life.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "What shall I do with all the days and hours 
 
 That must be counted ere I see thy face ? 
 
 How shall I charm the interval that lowers 
 
 Between this time and that sweet tune of grace ? 
 
 Oh, how, or by what means, may I contrive 
 
 To bring the hour that brings thee back more near ? 
 
 How may I teach my drooping hope to live 
 Until that blessed tune, and thou art here?" 
 
 MRS. BUTLER. 
 
 "Her voice is soft ; not shrill and like the lark's, 
 But tenderer graver." 
 
 IT was no hard task for Isabel and Florence to alarm 
 Vernon about Sybil's health, and as if nature were 
 plotting with them, she certainly seemed weak, and her 
 cheeks grew colorless after her adventure in the cave. 
 She seldom laughed that rich ringing laugh of heart 
 merriment, but smiled instead, while her voice, which 
 had burst into song as naturally as the voice of a bird in 
 the woodlands, each day grew more mute, and the effort 
 which she made to conceal what was passing within, 
 only rendered her more unlike the bright and happy 
 creature of the past. In fact a deep shadow had passed 
 over the young girl's life, as is generally the case with 
 all thinking beings after some great peril ; she felt, with 
 awe, what she had escaped, and the reflection made her
 
 Vernon Grove. 181 
 
 subdued and serious, so that Vernon, missing her accus- 
 tomed playflilncss, was easily persuaded that she needed 
 a change. None but he, however, could tell at what a 
 sacrifice he yielded to her going away from his own pro- 
 tecting care ; none but he or one who loves and who 
 feels willing to make any sacrifice for the welfare of the 
 beloved one. 
 
 But Isabel, in her zeal for her friend Florence, not 
 only wrought upon her brother's feelings, but upon 
 Sybil's, telling her that it was Vernon's desire that she 
 should visit the city, as it would, besides "restoring her 
 to perfect health, add to her advantages, improve her 
 touch in drawing, and acquaint her with new styles of 
 singing, while mixing in the most polished society would 
 give to her manners a tone which one who had always 
 lived in the country needed in order to be perfectly 
 refined. As a desire of Vernon's was fast getting to be 
 something of sacred importance in Sybil's mind, she 
 consented to listen to her new prospects, but at the same 
 time pleaded as an excuse for not readily assenting to 
 Isabel's kind wish, her grandmother's precarious state 
 of health. Isabel soon overruled that objection by 
 saying that it mattered little to Mrs. Gordon what 
 attendant she had in the present phase of her decay, 
 arid if the smallest change occurred, Sybil should be 
 sent for at once. Finding that this last argument nearly 
 caused Sybil to yield to the proposed change, with artful 
 eloquence which was worthy of a better cause, she drew 
 a picture of all that the young novice would enjoy, the 
 genius of the stage, music, society, painting; the com- 
 panionship of intellectual men and women, perhaps some 
 of those very authors whose works were to her as
 
 182 Vernon Grove. 
 
 household gods, until Sybil, not proof against these new 
 fascinations and Isabel's sisterly kindness, looked forward 
 herself with intense pleasure to the hour of departure 
 for such a bright and beautiful world of happiness. 
 
 The evening before the day fixed upon for the party 
 to leave Vernon Grove brought with it varied feelings 
 to all concerned. Vernon was unmistakably sad and 
 gloomy, Isabel glad almost to child-like gaiety to escape 
 once more to her old life of constant excitement, and 
 Florence content to leave even the object of her passion- 
 ate attachment because she would thereby arrive one 
 step nearer the execution of her plans. 
 
 Now that the hour of departure was so near, there 
 was a severe struggle going on in Sybil's heart, and she 
 was gay, restless, sad, tearful, and joyful by turns. She 
 now felt the significance of that dirge-like word " Fare- 
 well." Not only to Vernon would she be obliged to 
 utter it, but to the faithful though unconscious guardian 
 of her earlier years ; to the kind domestics who had ever 
 looked upon her with respect ; and even the inanimate 
 objects which had been her companions so long must be 
 included in the parting ; the landscape seen from her 
 window, the trees which had sheltered her, the very 
 humblest flowers which had sprung up in her daily path. 
 Yes, even though the brightest future awaited her, Sybil 
 felt that a parting was a serious thing. 
 
 " I must speak to you a few minutes alone," said Ver- 
 non to her, as Isabel and Florence bade them good-night 
 earlier than usual, to make arrangements for the morrow ; 
 " but you seem so particularly happy that perhaps a 
 sober quiet talk would not suit your mood." 
 
 Vernon had heard the laughing " good-night " from
 
 Vernon Grove. 183 
 
 Sybil which followed Isabel's injunctions to be ready 
 early on the morrow, but did not see the bright tear 
 which dimmed her eyes a moment afterwards when she 
 turned towards his downcast face, and had judged her 
 only by the first ; but she made no answer to his ques- 
 tion, so reproachful in its tone, except by twining her 
 arm within his and leading him to his favorite seat, and 
 then sitting, as was her custom before the arrival of their 
 guests, on a footstool at his feet. 
 
 " Yes, I must talk to you before you go," said Vernon, 
 " somewhat as we conversed before this hateful visit ; I 
 mean in the same familiar way ; I must tell you with 
 what a sense of unrest this coming absence of yours 
 oppresses me, how I wish that the visit were over, and 
 that this night, this hour, you had come back to me and 
 Vernon Grove again. Ah, I shall miss you sadly, sadly, 
 Sybil." 
 
 Her youthful hopeful heart could prognosticate no 
 evil in that brief absence, and she tried to laugh away 
 his fears. 
 
 " Turn to the bright side of the picture," she said 
 smilingly, "and think of only that. Remember how 
 many things I shall have to tell you of when I return, 
 how many new songs to sing you ; and then call to mind 
 Mrs. Clayton's fine promises. This visit, she says, is to 
 transform me into a being of almost ideal perfections ; 
 just think how graceful, charming, and accomplished the 
 country girl will become under the new experiences 
 which await her." 
 
 " I know all, can imagine all," said he, unmoved by 
 her pleasantry, " but no bright anticipations are to me 
 like a real presence. A blind man's world is narrowed
 
 184 Vernon Grove. 
 
 down, as far as relates to externals, to a mere point. 
 What Sybil Gray z, satisfies me, I care not to look for- 
 ward to what she will be" 
 
 Ah ! how his soul longed to say a few words of love 
 to bind her to him for ever, but he did not, would not ; 
 his sense of right guided him perhaps ; or perchance the 
 thought that he might so interfere with some brighter 
 destiny which awaited her, checked him, and he only 
 uttered the first word of his intended appeal ; one word, 
 she had often heard it from his lips, but never in such a 
 way ; one word, but whether the tone in which it was 
 spoken was that of love or hate, unutterable tenderness 
 or reproach, she could not determine in her own mind, 
 but that it came like a meteor, as unexpectedly and as 
 sudden, that it sent the hot blood tingling to her brow, 
 that whatever it meant it filled her with a strange power 
 this she knew and felt, and the word was simply her 
 own familiar name, " Sybil." 
 
 There was a pause for a moment, but her voice at last 
 broke it, 
 
 " I am listening, Mr. Vernon," she said. 
 
 " Better be silent," he answered impetuously, " than 
 give utterance to that cold measured ' Mr. Vernon.'' 
 I hate it, Sybil ; it chills me through and through." 
 
 " I should have said brother," said she in a softer tone, 
 and anxious to conciliate him, "but I am so thoughtless, 
 so forgetful, that I do not always remember the word you 
 wish me to say, and which is so pleasant to me to utter." 
 
 "No, nor that either," he exclaimed, writhing as 
 though some nerve had sustained an injury, " let it be 
 llichard, Sybil, and though it were earth's harshest 
 sound, it will turn to music if you utter it."
 
 Vernon Grove. 185 
 
 Sybil tried and tried in vain to frame the word aloud, 
 the distance was too immeasurably great between them, 
 and it died away unuttered on her lips. 
 
 " I cannot, cannot," she said frankly at last, " it seems 
 almost disrespectful in me to think of such a thing, you 
 have seen so many more years than I have, Mr. Vernon ; 
 and perhaps you do not know," she continued playfully, 
 as she saw a threatening frown on Vernon's brow, and 
 hoped by her pleasantry to drive it away, " that you 
 even look older than you are, for since your illness a 
 host of silver hairs have appeared shining out from 
 among the darker ones on your brow, like a sort of cloak 
 to mark the hour of your life, or perhaps to warn me 
 about the difference of our years." 
 
 No sooner had Sybil uttered these words than she 
 became conscious that she had done wrong, for a shade 
 of intense sadness passed over Vernon's face, and mourn- 
 fully was his answer spoken. 
 
 " You are severe, but just, Sybil ; meaning kindness, 
 but inflicting wounds upon the very eve of your departure 
 from the home where we have been so happy together." 
 
 " Forgive me," she answered quickly, " you see there 
 is another lesson which you must teach me, and that is 
 not to say anything impolite or unacceptable ; I am sure 
 that I did not mean to wound you just now by my 
 remark, and after all I should not be surprised to see 
 the grey hairs in clusters upon my own head, following 
 that terrible experience in the cave. There have been 
 those, you know, whose hair has turned white in a single 
 night ; I wonder that mine did not then." 
 
 Vernon passed his hand caressingly over her bright 
 luxuriant locks.
 
 i86 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "Ah," he said tenderly, "that was indeed a terrible 
 hour ; I scarcely could have lived had I lost my little 
 Sybil then." 
 
 There was a trembling earnestness in his tone that 
 went straight to Sybil's heart, and she longed to make 
 entire reparation for the remark which she thought had 
 pained him. 
 
 " I will tell you what I will do," she said half playfully, 
 half seriously ; " you know that I am going away to-mor- 
 row, and you will miss me so at Vernon Grove that it 
 will seem a very long time before I return, particularly 
 if I pay a visit to aunt Mary before I come back ; this 
 prelude is to make you sensible that the time of my being 
 absent, and my large experience, will have added almost 
 a cycle to my years, while you, remaining here, will be 
 stationary for a while, and so I promise you freely and 
 fully with this addition of years on my part, which will 
 make us equal, that when I see Vernon Grove again, I 
 will have courage to address you, if you still desire it, 
 even by the name of the lion-hearted king." 
 
 A flood of joy swept through Vernon's heart ; that 
 promise brought her one step nearer to him, and it was 
 a blessed thought that the word Richard would be con- 
 verted into music by her lips ; but no future pleasure 
 could take away the present pang of parting, and he 
 recurred to it again. 
 
 " How silent will the Grove be when you leave it, dear 
 child ; what shall I do without your voice, Sybil ? I do 
 not mean simply in singing, but in reading and con- 
 versing. The blind miss a voice almost as much as a 
 bodily presence, and I have always pretended to read 
 character by the voice. My blindness has thus taught
 
 Vernon Grove. 187 
 
 me to depend more on my instincts than ever, and my love 
 and hatred for people ai % e determined by their voices." 
 
 " Yon depend almost as much on a peculiar tone of 
 voice," answered Sybil, " as the author of some lines I 
 read the other day. I committed them to memory, and 
 some day when I return and you are in want of entertain- 
 ment and lonely, I will repeat them to you." 
 
 " And why not now ?" he asked ; " is it so late that you 
 can not spare me a few more minutes? Ah, Sybil, by- 
 and-by you will give to others in the dance far more time 
 than that which you deny me ; by-and-by you will forget 
 me quite, or remember me only as the blind man who was 
 so dependent upon you, and who wished for your com- 
 panionship when you could be far better employed than 
 by entertaining him." 
 
 Sybil had heard many a storm of anger burst from 
 Vernon's lips, but quite unused to the querulous tone of 
 reproach which was now in the ascendant, and sorry to 
 have provoked it, she tried by her good nature to make 
 amends for what had passed. 
 
 " I did not think that you would care very much to 
 hear them now," she said, " and as for its being too late 
 to recite them, that certainly was not my excuse, for I 
 really feel as if I could not sleep to-night. I do not 
 know after all, if you would like the lines as much as I 
 do, for perhaps it is only their earnestness which recom- 
 mends them ; they are simply words from a very loving 
 heart, linked together by a rhyme ; by a loving heart, I 
 mean one which loves as the heroes and heroines in novels 
 love." 
 
 " What you have said of them does not take from me 
 the desire to hear them," returned Yernon, "though
 
 i88 Vernon Grove. 
 
 such love seems to be denied me, and though my whole 
 life as regards the affections must be one long disappoint- 
 ment. But even if this be the case, I can still sympathize 
 with the loving and beloved." 
 
 Sybil imagined that he alluded to his experience in 
 regard to Florence, and her voice grew tenderer in its 
 pity as she repeated the lines addressed 
 
 " TO A BELOVED VOICE. 
 
 " Speak it once more, once more, in accents soft, 
 
 Let the delicious music reach mine ear, 
 Tell me in murmured accents oft and oft, 
 That I am dear. 
 
 " Teach me the spell that clings around a word, 
 
 Teach to my lips the melody of thine, 
 And let the spoken name most often heard 
 Be mine, be mine. 
 
 44 Why in the still and dreamy twilight hour, 
 
 "When lone and tender musings fill the breast, 
 Why does thy voice with its peculiar power 
 Still my unrest ? 
 
 " Why does the memory of thy faintest tone 
 
 In the deep midnight come upon my soul, 
 And cheer the parting hours, so sad and lone. 
 As on they roll ? 
 
 " Oh, if iny passions overflow their bound, 
 
 Or pride, or hate, or anger call for blame, 
 Do thou, with earnest, mild, rebuking sound, 
 But breathe my name : 
 
 " But show the better way by thee approved, 
 Bid me control my erring wayward will, 
 And at the chiding of thy voice beloved, 
 All shall be still."
 
 Vernon Grove. 189 
 
 Burning words were upon Yernon's lips, even an echo 
 to the burden of the lines, " Thus, Sybil, my beloved, is 
 thy voice unto me," but by a strong effort he forced them 
 back, and thanked her calmly for her kindness." 
 
 And then the parting came. 
 
 " Good-night, Mr. Vernon, almost good-by." 
 
 " And are you going to leave me with a cold shake of 
 the hand, Sybil ? Are we, brother and sister, companions 
 from the far past, from the years of your childhood, are 
 we to part thus ? Has not a prayer followed you if you 
 but strayed from my presence ? Have I not watched 
 you, taught you, cared for you, loved you, and can you 
 think of no way to leave me to my loneliness but this ? 
 Can you give me no memory but what a stranger gives 
 to a stranger, the common every-day clasp of a hand ?" 
 
 It scarcely needed these words to overcome Sybil, 
 who had been in a state of excitement for the past few 
 days, and suddenly a shower of tears rained from her 
 eyes. Though it was too late to retract, it seemed to her 
 now that the time was really approaching, ungrateful in 
 her to leave her benefactor, her friend, her teacher, 
 particularly since he now appeared somewhat reluctant 
 to have her go. 
 
 " I owe you all that I am," sobbed she, like a poor 
 penitent child; "you have taught me everything, teach 
 me now. How should we part, tell me, and now as ever, 
 I would obey my teacher's most trivial wish." 
 
 The strong man trembled for a moment, half unclosed 
 his arms, yearning to enfold her in his embrace and to 
 keep her there for ever, resisted the impulse, and crushed 
 some rebellious thought which had nearly overmastered 
 him, then folding them tightly over his breast, a shield
 
 190 Vernon Grove. 
 
 against the strong temptation which beset him, bent 
 down, pressed a fervent kiss upon her brow, blessed and 
 then released her. 
 
 Sybil departed to her own room, but twice paused on 
 her way thither as she thought that she heard her name 
 borne to her by the wind as it rushed through the long 
 corridor, but hearing it not repeated again, concluded 
 that it was only her imagination. She was the more 
 ready to admit this conclusion as she had just left Vernon ; 
 he had said his last words, and the rest of the household 
 were hushed in slumber, and she soon lost all memory of 
 it in the little preparations which still remained for her to 
 make for the morrow's journey. Had she traced the 
 source of that mysterious cry, had she -returned and 
 beheld Vernon wildly entreating her to have mercy upon 
 him and to leave him not ; had she heard his passionate 
 words of affection and the touching appeal addressed to 
 her in his despair, perhaps her destiny would have been 
 decided then and there ; but it was otherwise decreed, 
 the morning's sun saw Sybil's departure from Vernon 
 Grove and its master, to behold them, if ever again, how 
 and when ? 
 
 *
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " 'Tis a proud chamber and a rich, . 
 Filled with the world's most costly things 
 Of precious stones and gold ; 
 Of laces, silks and jewelry, 
 And all that's bought and sold." 
 
 " And her face is lily-clear, 
 Lily-shaped, and drooped in duty 
 To the law of its own beauty. 
 
 And a forehead fair and saintly, 
 Which two blue eyes undershine, 
 Like meek prayers before a shrine. 
 
 And her smile it seems most holy, 
 As if drawn from thoughts more far 
 Then our common jestiugs are. 
 
 And if any painter drew her, 
 He would paint her unaware 
 With a halo round her hair." 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 " So, your toilette is finished, Sybil ; it is well, for our 
 guests will arrive presently. Like a patient audience I 
 hav '. been awaiting the rising of the curtain, and now I 
 am ready to applaud or condemn. Are you sure that 
 art and nature leagued together have done their very 
 best ? Before I judge for myself I must have that lamp 
 s-o the left shaded somewhat, and the other raised, so that
 
 192 Vernon Grove. 
 
 I may see the effect of that new coiffure upon your style 
 of face. People, like paintings, should only be criticised 
 in certain lights. Incline that wave of hair a little more 
 upon your brow, there, that is more artistic, and now, 
 Sybil, I cannot help it if those Madonna-like eyes of 
 yours are raised in pious remonstrance, for I must say 
 what I think, you are beautiful, positively the most 
 beautiful" 
 
 Sybil's beseeching look at Isabel, and her white-gloved 
 hand laid upon her arm, arrested her words. 
 
 " Well, I will stop, since you wish me not to be per- 
 sonal, and will generalize and modify what I was about 
 to say. After all, fashion is the thing ; take even an ugly 
 woman from the dairy, Frenchify her a little, and she will 
 become quite handsome under refined and refining hands, 
 while you, Sybil, ah, I dare not tell you what you have 
 become." 
 
 Isabel might have been pardoned for gazing in admi- 
 ration upon the lovely face and form before her. It was 
 the night of Sybil's debtit, and she had yielded herself to 
 her friend's hands to be attired as she wished ; and Isabel, 
 guided by her perfect taste, had chosen what was most 
 appropriate in its simplicity, pure white, gauzy and 
 floating, and almost like gossamer in its fine texture. 
 Let others wear what they choose, she said, let Sybil 
 load herself ever after with gems and finery, that night 
 she belonged exclusively to her, and she should have no 
 ornament save her own faultless beauty, and she was 
 satisfied with the result, even the fastidious Isabel. 
 
 Sybil had been one week the inmate of Mrs. Clayton's 
 city home ; she was used to luxury, but not such as this ; 
 she had dreamed of enjoyment, and was more than
 
 Vernon Grove. 193 
 
 satisfied, for here she met with kindness on every side, 
 and everything seemed ta minister to her taste for the 
 beautiful. Isabel was delighted with her fresh unspoiled 
 heart, and had taken her protegee under her peculiar care, 
 first because she felt somewhat the sacredness of the 
 charge, and again because the young girl, whom she had 
 brought from her retired home suddenly into the glare 
 of the great world, was a curiosity to her, something new 
 under the sun, and her very straight-forward simplicity 
 of character, so in opposition to her own worldly training, 
 interested her as a study ; while Clayton, fancying what 
 she fancied, took Sybil at once to his heart and home, 
 rejoicing that his wife found something to amuse and 
 interest her. Of Florence, that regal woman who always 
 appeared to Sybil as if newly stepped from her throne, 
 she saw comparatively little, nor did she regret it, for 
 the old feeling of the dove in the presence of the hawk, 
 fluttered her too much for her sensations to be those of 
 perfect peace. As a reason for her sudden withdrawal 
 from the world of fashion, Florence had declared herself 
 weary of society, expressing a contempt for its forms 
 and institutions sadly at variance with her former tastes, 
 while she expatiated largely upon the delights of a country 
 residence, and thus, though Sybil knew that she was 
 frequently closetted w T ith Isabel, discussing some matter 
 seemingly of importance, seldom did she meet her in the 
 never-ending round of engagements into which she had 
 been drawn by Isabel. 
 
 On the night of Sybil's deMt Mr. Clayton's house was 
 
 to be opened to a large circle of Isabel's friends, and 
 
 Sybil's heart beat tumultuously as she descended to the 
 
 gorgeously lighted rooms, and thought of the contrast 
 
 9
 
 194 Vernon Grove. 
 
 which that evening would present to her past secluded 
 life ; it was a new and not perfectly agreeable ordeal to 
 her because of her embarrassment, and she half shrank 
 back from the blaze of light Avhich she encountered. 
 A friendly glance, however, met her, and a friendly 
 hand took her own, and she felt relieved to find that as 
 yet Mr. Clayton was the only occupant of the room, 
 while a few pleasant words of approval of her simple 
 dress tended still more to reassure her. 
 
 " It argues well for her future obedience to my com- 
 mands," said Isabel fondly " to be so entirely guided by 
 my wishes; her dress wants nothing in its airy grace 
 except perhaps a set of pearl ornaments. They might 
 indeed add to the purity of her appearance, for there is 
 something in their unostentatious beauty that softens 
 without gilding, and one can fancy the holy women of 
 old, if wearing jewelry at all, preferring only pearls." 
 
 Mr. Clayton smiled and looked tenderly at his lovely 
 wife, who seemed for once to forget herself in her interest 
 for another, and then with an air of mystery placed a 
 casket in her hands. 
 
 " You always said, Isabel, that I was your good fairy, 
 and lo, here are what you have just wished for, a set of 
 pearls for Sybil. I heard you say that her dress was to 
 be of white, and knowing that there could be such a thing 
 as painting the rose and gilding the lily, I trust that she 
 will accept them, and I shall be amply repaid by your 
 approval and her wearing them to-night." 
 
 Isabel impulsively threw her arms around Clayton's 
 neck, much to the detriment of her elaborate toilette, 
 while Sybil thanked him with eloquent words, and 
 certainly when they were clasped around her snowy
 
 Vernon Grove. 195 
 
 neck and ai'ms, one might have wondered how she had 
 seemed so fair without them. 
 
 "I wish that Vernon could see Sybil now," said 
 Clayton, who was, not included in the secret shared 
 between Isabel and Florence, " he would think that she 
 was some spirit draped in earthly robes; he must be 
 lonely enough at the Grove, with no joyful tongue to 
 give him welcome home ; why did you not bring him. 
 with you, Isabel ?" 
 
 " The truth is," said Isabel, frowning a little at the 
 unwelcome introduction of his name, " that I did ask 
 Richard to accompany us, but without any hope of 
 success, for he said that he should not feel at home 
 anywhere away from his every-day haunts, and so refused 
 my invitation ; and now remember, Clayton, I want his 
 to be a forbidden name while Sybil is here, for fear that 
 it will bring back old memories of birds and flowers, and 
 make her want to fly away to the woods once more." 
 
 Tears came into Sybil's eyes, pearls brighter than those 
 which clasped her fair neck, for she thought of Vernon and 
 her grandmother alone in their solitude, but she brushed 
 them away hastily as the bell from the hall sounded. 
 It was not indeed the quick energetic ring of an aris- 
 tocrat's footman, but so near the time for the assembling 
 of his guests as to lead Mr. Clayton to expect them and 
 to advance forward a step, while the white-gloved waiter 
 threw open the doors with a grand air of importance. 
 
 No perfumed and jewelled lady entered, however; no 
 dainty gentleman with unimpeachable toilet, but a woman 
 coarsely attired, with a hollow-eyed child in her arms, 
 advanced with shrinking step into the room, shading her 
 eyes with her rough hand from the sudden blaze of light.
 
 196 Vernon Grove. 
 
 ""What does the woman want?" asked Clayton of 
 the astonished waiter, "and how dare you admit such a 
 person at this hour, at this time, into my house?" 
 
 The woman answered for herself in a sad voice, and in 
 hurried words told a pitiful tale of misfortune and 
 affliction, looking down anxiously at intervals upon the 
 child as though to assure herself that each quick convul- 
 sive breath that it drew was not its last. 
 
 Her husband, she said, together with herself and child, 
 had taken passage in a vessel bound for other shores, and 
 while on their way a storm had overtaken them and their 
 vessel became a wreck. Many on board had perished, 
 and among the rest her husband, whose dying struggle 
 she had witnessed without being able to give him any 
 assistance, and she and her child might have shared his 
 fate if another vessel, in passing at some distance, had 
 not seen their signal of distress and rendered assistance 
 to the few miserable survivors who were clinging to the 
 wreck, their strength almost spent by their exertions. 
 Her child and herself, it was true, were saved from 
 drowning, but a worse fate might await them through 
 poverty and hunger, which must soon bring them to the 
 grave, for upon landing, the captain of the ship which 
 had rescued them, told her that she must seek at once 
 for employment, as he could no longer afford to add to 
 his expenses by maintaining those whom he had saved ; 
 and so without food or clothing, with a sick child and a 
 heavy heart, a stranger in a strange land, she had gone 
 forth to seek her fortunes. Seeing bright lights in .Mr. 
 Clayton's house, she had stopped there, hoping that the 
 noble exterior might betoken wealth, and plenty, and 
 benevolence she but asked a shelter for the night, or
 
 Vernon Grove. 197 
 
 the wherewithal to obtain one elsewhere, a shawl to wrap 
 her shivering child in, and a word of advice from the kind 
 gentleman and lady of the house, she added. 
 
 Piteously were her eyes turned upon the group, who 
 were interested in spite of themselves in the narrative, 
 but another peal of the bell at last determined Clay- 
 ton's plan of action. 
 
 " My advice is," said he frowningly, " that you de- 
 part from these doors at once. The city provides a 
 refuge for such as you, and if you choose, you can go to 
 the authorities and there palm upon them your impro- 
 bable story ; these rooms were lighted for guests and 
 not for importunate beggars; depart at once, and let 
 them have entrance." 
 
 "So much to me," thought Sybil, glancing at her 
 costly pearls, "so much to pleasure and pomp, and 
 nothing to her /" She could have torn the rich orna- 
 ments from her arms and neck if she had dared, and 
 trampled them under foot, while Isabel seeing her emo- 
 tion, hummed a lively air and tried to draw her away, 
 saying that Clayton had done what was but right, as he 
 was constantly assailed by impostors who tried, under 
 false pretences, to extract money from him. But Sybil 
 stood rooted to the spot. The woman's pale face flushed 
 at Clayton's cruel words, and she looked straight into 
 his eyes as if to be assured of his meaning, then shud- 
 dering perhaps from cold, perhaps from some uncontrol- 
 lable impulse of despair or weariness, she drew the 
 moaning child more closely to her shrunken breast and 
 walked slowly from the room, while her miserable robes 
 brushed the silken garments of the gay party who 
 ascended the stairs.
 
 ig8 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Sybil would have followed her and have rendered her 
 the aid which Clayton had denied, for she felt and knew 
 that the strange sad tale was true, but Isabel held her 
 back, and in a passive dream-like mood, she heard her 
 name in an introduction, and then came fresh arrivals, 
 and the incident was for that night forgotten, but ever 
 after Sybil's conscience reproached her for not being 
 more prompt and acting with more independence ; nor 
 did she plead as others might for her, her inexperience 
 and the peculiar circumstances under which she was 
 placed. Often did she think of Clayton's avarice, which 
 led him, though spending thousands for his own plea- 
 sures, to refuse needful aid to that wretched beggar, and 
 of Isabel's apathy as she besought a shelter ; and as the 
 besetting sin of their characters unfolded itself to her, 
 she felt that at God's bar of justice she would rather have 
 the heart of that poor woman beating beneath its scanty 
 rags, than those of the proud owners of that costly 
 palace home.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " Never 'till now never 'till now, Queen 
 
 And wonder of the enchanted world of sound, 
 Never 'till now was such bright creature seen, 
 Startling to transport all the region round ! 
 Whence com'st thou with those eyes and that fine mien, 
 
 Thou sweet, sweet singer ? Like an angel found 
 Mourning alone, thou seem'st, thy mates all fled, 
 A star 'mong clouds a spirit 'midst the dead." 
 
 BARRY CORNWALL. 
 
 ISABEL had not miscalculated ; Sybil's praises were upon 
 every tongue ; her grace, her peculiar style of beauty, 
 her dignity, and the inborn refinement which showed 
 itself in every movement were commented upon, and had 
 Isabel staked her success or failure in society upon the 
 issue of that evening's impression, she must have been 
 completely satisfied. Sybil herself was quite unconscious 
 of the position which she had attained ; she simply felt 
 intense enjoyment in the fine music and the companion- 
 ship of beautiful women and intellectual men, and 
 dreamed not that she had gained in a few hours a sum- 
 mit which had been often toiled for in vain by the 
 society seeker and fashionist. 
 
 Isabel, who watched her young charge with Argus- 
 eyes, soon perceived that there was one among the 
 crowd who, spell-bound by Sybil's loveliness, seemed 
 unable or unwilling to resist her fascinations, engaging
 
 2oo Vernon Grove. 
 
 Tier in conversation whenever he could, or when not con- 
 versing with her, standing apart and gazing upon her 
 every movement. With the quick intuition of a woman 
 of the world, she, in her own mind, wove Sybil's destiny, 
 and linked it with his who was so evidently interested 
 in her protege, quite satisfied with him as one whom 
 even Vernon himself must welcome as every way worthy 
 of his beloved charge. 
 
 Arthur Leslie, the person in question, was a man of a 
 calm, steady temperament, far-seeing and cautiously 
 judging; seldom impressed by externals, and almost 
 cold in manner. Eschew T ing all the vices of society, he 
 nevertheless entered largely into its pleasures, and was 
 a favorite with both sexes, as much for his independence 
 of character as for his uniform good nature. A disposi- 
 tion so well balanced is seldom to be met with, and Les- 
 lie, but little past that period when the law determines 
 a man to be of age, had the judgment of riper years, and 
 men much older than himself looked up to him for advice. 
 He had passed unscathed, heart free, through two sea- 
 sons in society, and as much for his weight of character 
 as for his wealth, was still the anxious solicitude of 
 manoeuvring mothers who almost despaired of the attrac- 
 tions of their daughters. 
 
 When such a man loves, he loves with his whole soul, 
 and if there is such a thing, if the whole loving power 
 springs into being in one instant, as a flower bursts into 
 bloom in a single night if in an instant one's happiness 
 or misery is decided by the smile or frown of another, 
 then Leslie loved Sybil Gray. Her look of purity first 
 attracted him, then her face at rest enchained him as 
 being that of an angel, but when she smiled, all that was
 
 Vernon Grove. 201 
 
 beautiful of earth seemed to glow in the mirth which 
 shone in her eyes or in the curved arch of her coral lips. 
 He first thought how it would brighten life with such a 
 ministering spirit hovering near to warn him of evils and 
 temptations, and then the vague thought took the more 
 definite form of a wish, carrying him back to his lonely 
 home, where, instead of the solitude, he longed to 
 have her seated as his own household treasure ; or 
 meeting him with her welcoming smile. But Leslie was 
 not a man to be beguiled by a fair face or form, and he 
 was determined before he yielded to the bewildering 
 emotions of happiness, Avhich were already giving to his 
 life a joy unknown to him before, to find out what the 
 casket, which was so attractive without, contained within, 
 and when, after seeking an introduction, he found Sybil's 
 mind bright and cultivated, he gave himself up to the 
 new-born feeling as though to one hope, thought, aim in 
 life, and rested under the charmed spell with an aban- 
 donment which he dared not and cared not to resist. 
 He felt, too, after conversing with Sybil, that she under- 
 stood him ; that his passionate longing for sympathy was 
 all revealed to her ; that she admired the books which 
 he admired, and even the same passages of poetry had 
 fascinated them both. Then they had trodden over the 
 same ground in science, except that where she had only 
 ventured to skim the surface, he had plunged boldly, and 
 her weaker nature seemed to lean in confidence upon 
 his stronger judgment and more extended experience. 
 
 Theirs was no fleeting, ball-room conversation, but 
 
 an earnest finding of each other out, a continual glad 
 
 surprise to discover that their tastes and pursuits were 
 
 so much in accordance, and Leslie would have moiiopo- 
 
 9*
 
 2O2 Vernon Grove. 
 
 lizcd her for the entire evening, if Isabel had not had 
 other views for the young novice. She wished Sybil to 
 feel her own power, to taste the intoxication of general 
 admiration, to be the queen of the many as well as of 
 the single worshipper who had fallen almost without a 
 struggle a captive to her charms ; she wished her to be 
 so impressed with the pleasures of society as to desire to 
 forsake the country and its tamer attractions for ever. 
 Watching, therefore, for a favorable opportunity, she 
 sent Leslie away upon some trivial errand, and, as if in 
 contrast to her late companion, introduced to Sybil an 
 old and valued friend of hers, a venerable minister who 
 occasionally came from the solitude of his studio to lend 
 countenance to what lie thought were the harmless 
 amusements of the gay outer world. 
 
 As Sybil looked up with a smile of greeting to the 
 benevolent face before her, she thought that in his very 
 air there seemed to be benediction, a sort of "bless 
 you, my child !" which words were indeed in the old 
 man's heart, although unspoken, and by an involuntary 
 impulse she extended her hand which he clasped in his 
 with fatherly kindness. Then when Isabel left them, he 
 drew from her a recital of the principal events of her 
 almost uneventful life, and promised to be a friend to 
 her upon the perilous path into which she had entered, 
 and while she thanked him with eloquent words and 
 moistened eyes for his kindness, he gazed wondcringly 
 upon her glorious beauty, and remembering what a 
 dangerous gift it was, he warned her of the poison in the 
 cup, and told her to beware while she was drinking the 
 intoxicating draught, not to drain it to the very drcus. 
 
 Sybil was so pleased with her new companion, his
 
 Vernon Grove. 203 
 
 interest in her simple country life, her rural church, and 
 her schemes for her poor dependants, whom, by Ver- 
 non's generosity, she was enabled to relieve, that she 
 gladly accepted his invitation to walk into the grounds 
 where the music would not be a drawback to their con- 
 versation, and which a genial day of lingering summer 
 had made pleasant even in the early autumn. There 
 they found numerous guests who preferred the quiet 
 pervading the moonlit gardens to the more enlivening 
 dances of the ball room. 
 
 The grounds were laid out under Isabel's and Clay- 
 ton's direct supervision, and the result- was a combina- 
 tion of beauty and order which always accompanied the 
 exercise of their united taste. There was no lack of 
 ornamental shrubbery, and fountains, and figures of clas- 
 sical meaning, where the mythology of the ancients was 
 woven into a thousand exquisite creations by the hands 
 of modern artists. Now a marble Cupid would be seen 
 lurking almost hidden among the foliage with bow 
 strung and arrow ready for flight in his chiselled hand, 
 or an Aurora would meet the gaze, the very embodi- 
 ment of beauty and the type of the light and loveliness 
 of day. 
 
 Sybil's new friend was well acquainted with the mystic 
 meaning of each symbol, and it was no slight enjoyment 
 to her to have him reveal them to her, or to find him. 
 drawing from her own book knowledge the explanation 
 which he desired to convey to her. The thousand fan- 
 cies which she had formed of the wild and exquisite 
 creations of pagan idolatry now assumed a definite shape, 
 and her delight was almost child-like when she discovered 
 without any prompting from her companion, from some
 
 204 Vernon Grove. 
 
 symbol which was attached to the numerous sculptured 
 forms around her, the name and office of the carved 
 images ; thus a light and airy figure in a little grove of 
 trees, holding in her hand a vase of exquisite workman- 
 ship, drew from her the exclamation, " Ah, that must be 
 the Hebe of the Greeks!" and she knew at once by her 
 quiver and arrows and the crescent on her brow, that 
 Diana stood before her in the radiant moonlight. 
 
 It was appropriate and unique too, both her compa- 
 nion and herself thought, to find Bacchus reclining at his 
 ease among the arbor of grape vines which hung around 
 him, and Pomona guarding the province where the 
 orchard began. 
 
 All this was intense enjoyment to her, resembling 
 somewhat the fresh feeling of pleasure which one has on 
 an island coast in gathering valuable shells of varied 
 forms and colors, and as great was her delight when her 
 companion explained to her the more obscure meaning of 
 the figures, for Vernon's aim in Sybil's education had 
 been for her to take pleasure in constant acquirement, 
 rather than in display of what she knew. Thus she felt 
 that she had gained something when he pointed out to 
 her a marble Silence, with its symbol rose, a chained 
 Prometheus, or a Galataa standing in her chariot shell. 
 
 But the crowning beauty of the garden was a kind of 
 Grecian temple which 31r. Clayton had erected for a 
 summer resort, and to this Sybil's new friend now led 
 her, as much for the view which was to be obtained from 
 it, as to see its exquisite proportions. It belonged to no 
 peculiar style of architecture, though claiming something 
 of the simplicity of the Ionic order, together with the 
 inverted bells and acanthus leaves of the more ornamen-
 
 Vernon Grove. 205 
 
 tal Corintliian type. A flight of marble steps led up to 
 a mosaic floor, white fluted pillars sustained a dome of 
 white marble, so light and graceful, that Sybil, deceived 
 in the softened moonlight, thought that it was transpa- 
 rent, and traced with her eye the delicate veins which 
 crossed and recrossed each other over its polished sur- 
 face. Pausing on the last step as she ascended, she dis- 
 engaged her arm from her companion's, and paused to 
 view the scene beneath her so exquisite, so like a sudden 
 vision of fairy land. 
 
 It was more like a dream to her than a reality as she 
 stood there gazing upon the gleaming statues, cold and 
 motionless amid the living groups around ; the full calm 
 moon unveiled to the burning glances of some worshipping 
 Endymion, and her own mysterious self suddenly trans- 
 ferred from the companionship of Nature only, to that 
 of a world of highest Art. Then her glance rested upon 
 the silvery hair and noble brow of him who had guided 
 her through that labyrinth of beauty, and whose eyes 
 were directed upward as though he were communing 
 with the inner heaven, and she thought how the soul 
 there on that uplifted and expressive face made it more 
 glorious than aught else ; and from him her thoughts 
 wandered to Linwood, and she wondered if he ever por- 
 trayed what was noble and beautiful in man as well as in 
 woman, in his pictures, and if he did, how that rapt, 
 almost God-like countenance would make for him a grand 
 study. And from Linwood her thoughts winged them- 
 selves far away from Italy, across the ocean, beyond the 
 tree tops, through the murmuring woods, past the shin- 
 ing river, over the tree-crowned hill, to Vernon and her 
 country home.
 
 206 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "And would you return to it and him?" said the 
 voice of her conscience; "would you leave this fairy 
 land of enjoyment for one moment there ?" 
 
 And she answered almost audibly to the questioning 
 voice, with a heart all unspoiled by the fascinations 
 which surrounded her 
 
 " I would leave it all for one moment there." 
 
 "Sybil," said Isabel, suddenly springing up the steps 
 and interrupting most effectually her reverie, "this is 
 just where I wished to find you, for this, you must know 
 is my cage, and you are the bird whom I would most 
 like to hear sing in it. I did not bring you into the gar- 
 den before, because I desired the full beauty of the 
 scene to break upon you to-night, and you must be 
 satisfied, for earth, air, and sky, smile upon us and lay 
 their tributes at your feet. Every life, dear Sybil, has 
 some stand-points in memory, some bright or gloomy 
 points to date from, and if you forget all other nights in 
 your life, you must promise me to remember this." 
 
 Isabel's words were strangely earnest, but she meant 
 nothing beyond the mere impression which the hour pro- 
 duced upon Sybil's mind ; but often after did the latter 
 recur to them as prophetic, for truly above all the nights 
 or days in her life, had Sybil cause to remember that 
 eventful night, the stand-point in her memory, looming 
 up above other points of time. 
 
 "There are not many listeners," continued Isabel, 
 " and here just where you stand, just how you stand, 
 against that marble pillar, I must hear you sing." 
 
 Leslie now joined them, and added his entreaties to 
 those of Isabel, and the old companion of her walk, 
 although silent, looked expectantly at her, as though to
 
 Vernon Grove. 207 
 
 grant their request would delight him too. Sybil re- 
 plied to his glance with a kind look of interest ; she 
 longed to do something in return for what she thought 
 was his kindness, in teaching her so much which was 
 new and interesting, and to repay him for his good 
 nature in taking the trouble to amuse one so far his 
 inferior in age and attainments. 
 
 "And would you like to hear me sing too ?" she ask- 
 ed, "would not music such as I could give you only 
 break the charmed spell which is around us? If you 
 think not, tell me what kind you most admire, or if you 
 like music at all ?" 
 
 " To be candid," he replied, " I fear that I must say 
 that I do not, for the intricate melody of the present 
 day bewilders me, and I do not profess to understand or 
 appreciate it. In my youth there were some songs that 
 went deeper than the mere organs of hearing, sinking 
 into the very soul, but they have passed out of vogue, 
 and you would laugh at me were I even to name 
 them." 
 
 " You are mistaken," said Sybil with emotion, while 
 a sweet smile of sympathy broke upon her lips and rip- 
 pled up to her eyes, " and to prove that I love those al- 
 most by-gone melodies with their tender pathos as much 
 as you do, I will sing one fbr you, which I am sure will 
 seem to you like an old friend." 
 
 Then before an objection could be raised by the frown- 
 ing Isabel, her voice rose upon the air like a part of the 
 exquisite night as the stars were of the sky, thrilling all 
 hearts Avith delicious cadence in one of those old-fashioned 
 songs, those ballads of eld, which seem made for any time 
 and place, and each sound was hushed under the blue
 
 208 Vernon Grove. 
 
 dome of the heavens save the tinkling of the murmuring 
 fountains and the voice rising in melody over all. 
 
 It was a song which brought back the old man's youth 
 when life and hope were fresh, and the memory of a 
 beloved voice which had sung it in those happy days, 
 and he bent his head, calling back the by-gone hours, 
 while he silently wiped away the tears that flowed un- 
 bidden from his eyes. As the last thrilling words were 
 uttered, he pressed Sybil's hand and uttered a fervent 
 " God bless you, dear child ; " then quietly passing 
 through the crowd who stood breathlessly waiting for 
 another utterance in song from that marvellous voice, 
 he bent his way homeward with the happy memory still 
 stirring in his heart. 
 
 " Now, Sybil," said Isabel softly, " I forgive you for 
 that breach of taste, because the old song was so beau- 
 tiful and sad that my own careless heart was touched 
 and my eyes moistened, but as you have paid your tri- 
 bute to the aged part of your audience, you must sing 
 us one song brimful of love and life, exclusively belong- 
 ing to youth. 
 
 A song for love and youth ! "What should it be ? 
 Sybil remembered one which she had found among Ver- 
 non's music, a song to The Winds. It was unlike any 
 other combination of sounds that she had ever heard, a 
 wild, weird-like tangled harmony, seemingly as reck- 
 less as the winds themselves, now soft as a murmuring 
 zephyr, and then mad and sweeping as a winter blast. 
 She felt in a mood to sing it, though she knew that most 
 of her listeners could but little appreciate or understand, 
 unless they had received a musical education, the per- 
 fect adaptation of the music to the words, but the feel-
 
 Vernon Grove. 209 
 
 ing could not be resisted ; some would understand it 
 and to these she would address herself, and again the 
 tinkling fountains joined the song of youth and love. 
 
 " Some love the stars that peer like angel eyes 
 Through the blue veil of curtained paradise ; 
 Some love the flowers upspringing in their way, 
 And some tho wood-bird's sweet and plaintive lay, 
 I love the Winds. 
 
 " Not with a nature calm, that brooks control, 
 Love I the changeful Winds ; but with the whole 
 Wild and impassioned fervor of my heart, 
 That of my inmost being forms a part, 
 
 I love the Winds. 
 
 " Why do the Winds for others bring alarms, 
 For me a thousand never-ending charms? 
 While poets sing the flowers, the sun, the trees, 
 Why do I sing the wild ^Eolian breeze ? 
 
 Why love the Winds? 
 
 " I love them for they come on pinions strong, 
 Fresh from thy presence ; morn and night I long 
 That on their swift wings I might fly to thee, 
 And round thy form for ever lingering be 
 
 Where'er thou art." 
 
 As the murmur of applause, which could not be sup- 
 pressed in listening to the wonderful compass of her 
 voice, met her ear, Sybil drew back with no feeling of 
 self-gratulation in her heart, but with a sad weight of 
 sorrow, for the song recalled to her Vernon in his blind 
 solitude and the pains which he had taken to perfect her 
 in it, bidding her sometimes sing it when she was alone 
 for his sake.
 
 2io Vernon Grove. 
 
 " There, not another to-night, clear Mrs. Clayton," 
 she said, " some other time, but not here, not now." 
 
 But Isabel pleaded still " Only that Italian air which 
 you sung the first day of our arrival at Vernon Grove. 
 I shall ever remember Richard's expression," continued 
 she unguardedly, forgetting her own resolves to have 
 his a forbidden name, " as Florence and I described you 
 to him when you approached the house with your gar- 
 land of flowers ; he either had not been curious before, 
 or was afraid to ask any one what your pei'sonal appear- 
 ance was, for fear of being disenchanted as regarded 
 some preconceived notion of his, and so when your voice 
 came to him, and he recognised your identity by that, 
 the play of his features was perfectly beautiful ; he look- 
 ed at first almost sorry, I do not exactly know why, 
 and then a glad smile covered his whole face at find- 
 ing out, I suppose, that you were pleasant to behold as 
 wt-11 as good and amiable." 
 
 Sybil smiled too, a rare and beautiful smile it was, and 
 to Leslie it was like the red flush of the western sky 
 over some beauteous lake. 
 
 " Help me to plead, too, Mr. Leslie," said Isabel, turn- 
 ing to him as he w r as gazing at Sybil, who was looking 
 upward in happy reverie. 
 
 " Oh, I could not, could not sing that now," she said 
 earnestly, " it is too soulless, too meaningless for such a 
 night as this ; the words are mere words without a spark 
 of feeling, and some gay, sunshiny day I will remember 
 your wish and sing it to yon ; I am sure that Mr. Leslie 
 will agree with me now that he has heard what good 
 reasons I have for refusing." 
 
 Sybil raised her eyes to his for an instant, those eyes
 
 Vernon Grove. 211 
 
 whose common, every-day expression was one of tender- 
 ness, with a beseeching glance, and from that moment 
 he gave to her his heart, liis whole loving heart. Isabel's 
 presence did not restrain him; he saw nothing, knew 
 nothing, felt nothing, but that Sybil was bending towards 
 him awaiting his answer. 
 
 " Life could give me no higher happiness," he said in a 
 low tone of intense emotion, " than that of yielding to 
 your slightest wish." 
 
 Sybil blushed at his earnest gaze and still more earnest 
 words, but attributing them to the common gallantry 
 of society, was soon at her ease conversing upon other 
 subjects, while Isabel, quite satisfied with what she saw, 
 turned away to her other guests. 
 
 On the outer circle of the crowd which had surrounded 
 Sybil, and which was now beginning to disperse, stood 
 two men unknown to each other, and who, meeting as 
 guests of Mr. Clayton's, entered without an introduction 
 into conversation. 
 
 " Can you tell me the name of the lady who has just 
 finished singing ?" said the younger. " You will pardon 
 my question, asked so informally, but I have just entered, 
 and am almost a stranger here, and though fresh from the 
 land of song, and the very cradle of music, where art is 
 cultivated to the utmost to give a higher inspiration to 
 nature, I have never heard her voice surpassed." 
 
 " I am as ignorant as you are," replied the other, " of 
 the lady's name, but I agree with you in thinking that 
 her voice is an extraordinary one, and I never heard notes 
 which so 'touched my inner nature through ;' " then with 
 a courteous bow he passed on to learn something more 
 of the sweet songstress.
 
 212 Vernon Grove. 
 
 The younger stranger waited until the crowd dispersed, 
 and then coming in search of Mr. or Mrs. Clayton, his steps 
 were arrested suddenly by a vision which his eyes beheld. 
 He stood for a moment in deep thought, then passing his 
 hand dreamily over his eyes, exerted every faculty to 
 assure himself that it was not a phantasy of the imagina- 
 tion that he saw, but a living breathing reality. 
 
 He was an artist, and had just returned from his studies 
 in Europe. While there, he had painted a picture, the 
 head and bust of a female, an Ideal, which had at once 
 placed him in a position of eminence in his art, and she who 
 stood before him, white robed, her fair hair just stirred 
 by the night breezes, her blue eyes upraised, and her lips 
 closed though smiling, in the light of the full orbed moon, 
 was, strangely enough, his picture's second self. He could 
 have gazed there for ever until the living ideal melted into 
 air, or taking wings soared upward into its native heaven, 
 but fearing to attract attention, and not yet having made 
 his arrival known to the mistress of the house, he with- 
 drew from the moonlight, and behind the shelter of a 
 trellised vine still kept his gaze fixed upon the marble 
 temple and the fair form which so filled him with admi- 
 ration and wonder. 
 
 Suddenly he felt a hand grasp his, and Isabel's low 
 well-trained voice, with a shade of surprise in its tone, 
 addressed him. 
 
 " Albert Linwood ! this is indeed a pleasure ; I am glad 
 to welcome you; glad, too, that your appreciating artist- 
 eyes should have seen our grounds to-night ; when did 
 you return, and why have you not been here before ?" 
 
 Albert returned that friendly grasp with a pressure as 
 sincere, for Isabel Clayton's doors were always open to
 
 Vernon Grove. 213 
 
 her brother's friend, and a long course of undeviating 
 kindness on her part and her husband's had endeared 
 them both to him. 
 
 "I came only this very afternoon," he said, "and 
 after attending to some necessary business transactions, 
 hastened to see my old friends. There is no change, at 
 least in one," he added smiling, "except that perhaps 
 the years have turned back in her case ; but I long to hear 
 of Vernon, how is he, where is he ?" 
 
 Linwood's words were addressed most certainly to his 
 companion, yet even while he was speaking of him who 
 was so dear to him, and to whom he owed so much, his 
 eyes wandered to his living ideal, and Isabel read his 
 admiration in his fascinated gaze. 
 
 "Vernon is well, and in the country still," she answered, 
 " and ah, I see that you are attracted, as every one else 
 is, by my sweet Euterpe in her shrine. Of course you 
 heard her singing ; and did you ever enjoy anything 
 more than that contrast of songs, the one so sad and 
 tearful, the other scientifically brilliant and playful? 
 One might have thought that she had studied effect and 
 looked for admiration in the selection, if one did not 
 know the exquisite purity of her character. Come, 
 Albert, and see my goddess in a nearer view, let me 
 introduce you ; I would like to have you know more of 
 Sybil Gray." 
 
 " What a strange coincidence," said Linwood in return, 
 " the name is a very familiar one to me, 'tis the same as 
 that of Vernon's little amanuensis ; are they related ?" 
 
 Isabel's merry laugh rang out bell-like and clear 
 "Why should it be strange?" she said, "that is she 
 herself, Richard's little Sybil Gray."
 
 21 4 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Linwood drew back "I cannot have the hardihood 
 to approach her," he said ; " I dare not, must not, until 
 I have in some degree restored my self-possession and 
 reconciled what she is with what I imagined her to be. 
 For years I have been corresponding with her, and 
 foolishly lost sight of the fact that the little Sybil must 
 grow into a woman, the bud expand into the flower ; 
 moreover, I have not confined my expressions to the 
 simple name by which Vemon designates her, but ' dear 
 Sybil,' 'dearest Sybil,' 'precious and beloved child,' have 
 often begun and ended my letters. What apology can 
 I make to the exquisite woman so far above me there, so 
 almost angelic in loveliness ?" 
 
 Isabel only laughed merrily again, and linking her arm 
 in his, drew him forward. 
 
 " Sybil," she exclaimed, hurrying him up the marble 
 step before he could escape from her gentle force, "here 
 is a knight who has wofully offended you : his life is in 
 your hands, but I recommend him to your mercy, because 
 he has come humbly to ask pardon for all his sins against 
 you, past, present, and to come. Let his penalty be as 
 light as your gentle nature can make it." 
 
 Before Sybil could answer her mysterious address, or 
 ask for an explanation, she beckoned Leslie away, and 
 passing on toward the house with him, left Sybil and 
 the stranger alone. 
 
 She raised her eyes for an instant to his face t and met 
 a deep searching gaze of curiosity and admiration ; 
 something, such a look, she thought, as one might bestow 
 upon a picture when seeing it for the first time. 
 
 " I know not how you have offended me," she began, 
 dropping her eyes again, and feeling that the pause was
 
 Vernon Grove. 215 
 
 very awkward, " since Mrs. Clayton has left us, will you 
 please to explain ?" 
 
 " If to have thought of you always as a child, as Vernon's 
 little Sybil, is to have offended you," he said, "then 
 assuredly I am guilty, most guilty." 
 
 " There is no offence," answered Sybil gently, " in 
 thinking of me thus ; nay, it is rather flattering than 
 otherwise, inasmuch as we know that as we mount higher 
 and higher towards the meridian of life, we lose the 
 freshness and innocence of childhood, and so I would be 
 ever, if I could, little Sybil, in heart at least. But you 
 must explain yourself more fully still, for I only know of 
 one other besides Mr. Vernon himself who could think 
 of me as you have, and he is far away from us now, an 
 artist in Europe." 
 
 " A friend of yours ?" asked the stranger. 
 
 " Why yes, no ; after all, yes," replied Sybil ; " Mr. 
 Vernon, with whom my grandmother and I have lived 
 ever since my childhood, is blind, and for this reason I 
 have written almost all his letters for him, those to Mr. 
 Lin wood especially, and from the formality of a beginning 
 our correspondence has continued and extended into a 
 very long one, and although I have never seen him, I feel 
 as if I had known him all of my life. 
 
 " That is indeed a novel position," returned the 
 stranger, apparently much interested in what Sybil had 
 said, " and have you any curiosity to see your unknown 
 correspondent ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Sybil joyfully, "his name, daily men- 
 tioned, is almost a part of our life, and his return a bright 
 promise of the future ; he may come, perhaps, the last 
 of this very year. Mr. Vernon prizes his friendship so
 
 216 Vernon Grove. 
 
 much, and so entirely depends upon his sympathy and 
 judgment, that I think his feelings are reflected back 
 upon me, and I look forward to his coming as a sort of 
 jubilee." 
 
 Sybil felt curiously at her ease with this stranger 
 whose name even she did not know, but the whole of 
 her visit had been so dream-like, so many experiences 
 had she encountered that were far different from her 
 sober country routine, that this, she felt, was after all but 
 a part of the dream through which she was passing. 
 
 " Have you ever imagined what kind of character this 
 Mr. Linwood is ?" continued her companion " in mind 
 and person, I mean." 
 
 " Of course," said Sybil, warming in the cause of her 
 absent correspondent and friend, " it is a pleasure to me 
 often to dwell with Mr. Yernon upon that never wearying 
 theme. First, I know that he is as gentle almost as a 
 woman, because Mr. Vemon has told me so, and likewise 
 I have heard what a devoted attendant he proved when 
 his friend was ill ; and I know, too, that he is noble and 
 pure minded, and filled with enthusiasm for his art, which 
 he follows with untiring devotion. He is a worshipper 
 of beauty in every form, but more especially the beauty 
 of woman. As for his personal appearance, it seems to 
 me from what I can gather from Mr. Vernon's memory 
 of it, that it must be just w r hat an artist's appearance 
 should be; he is not very tall, but still enough so for 
 symmetry ; then he has a high white forehead, with eyes 
 like the Lady Geraldine of Mrs. Browning, 
 
 1 Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian statue-stone.' 
 And his voice, Mr. Vernon tells me, who lays great stress
 
 Vernon Grove. 217 
 
 upon the intonations of a voice, has a manly tenderness in 
 it that wins one at once to like him. And now that I have 
 been able to paint his picture so faithfully in words, I am 
 sure that I should know him if I were to meet him 
 unexpectedly." 
 
 " Would you?" said the stranger in a tone that startled 
 her with its depth and earnestness, " would you know 
 this Albert Lin wood of whom you speak so flatteringly, so 
 much above the estimation in which he should be held?" 
 
 Again she raised her eyes and they met his, and a 
 sudden thought came to her which brought the blood to 
 her face and then left it again as pale as the marble 
 against which she was leaning. No maidenly shame 
 caused her to veil her eyes now with down-dropped lids ; 
 there was a deeper feeling in her mind overcoming that 
 and making it only secondary. Coldly she scrutinised 
 him, taking in his face and figure in that one searching 
 glance, and she needed no other assurance to tell that 
 there before her stood the person whom she had just so 
 minutely described. She wondered why she had been so 
 obtuse, she hated him and herself for the ruse which he 
 had practised upon her, and looking once more straight 
 into his eyes with a gaze from which there was no escape, 
 while a smile of scorn curled her lip, she said with an 
 indignant gesture which was a near approach to anger 
 
 " You are Albert Linwood !" 
 
 " Forgive me," said Linwood, reading her indignation 
 too well, "forgive the temptation which led me to do 
 what I now feel was wrong." 
 
 "Unfair, unjust," were the only words which she 
 condescended to say in return. 
 
 Albert took her band, but she drew it away in disdain 
 10
 
 21 8 Vernon Grove. 
 
 and turned impatiently away, preparing to descend the 
 steps in order to avoid his further companionship. 
 
 " You are offended," he said, making one more effort 
 at a reconciliation, " and justly so ; but I cannot bear 
 your displeasure; forgive me, I pray you; forgive my 
 mad and thoughtless experiment." 
 
 " What you have done," she answered unrelenting, 
 " is unworthy of the Albert Linwood whom I have known 
 so long. You cannot be, you are not he." 
 
 " And so this is your promised jubilee, Sybil ?" he said 
 sorrowfully. " What can I do more than confess that it 
 was not right ; nay, let me give my conduct its proper 
 name, it was ungentlemanly, and as you say, unworthy 
 of the Albert Linwood whom you have called your friend, 
 and I would not repeat it for any consideration that could 
 be offered to me, no, not for one of your smiles, Sybil. 
 I will make one more appeal to you which may rend 
 your heart of steel, not pleading in my own name, but 
 in the name of another who deserves your favor more 
 than I do for Richard's, Vernon's sake, will you not let 
 his friend be yours ? for his sake forgive and forget my 
 thoughtlessness." 
 
 Her forgiveness was gained at once Sybil held out 
 her hand and smiled. 
 
 " For Mr. Vernon's sake only," she said. 
 
 And thus peace was bought, and as few could resist 
 Linwood's fascination of manner and conversation, before 
 many minutes elapsed they were conversing with the 
 freedom of old friends. 
 
 " And so you could not prevail upon Vernon to take 
 the journey," said Linwood, after a reconciliation was 
 entirely established, "and to let me be your cicerone
 
 Vernon Grove. 219 
 
 among the fair scenes with which I became so 
 familiar." 
 
 "No," answered Sybil, "it was in vain that I read 
 your appeals to him; he shrinks more and more from 
 the bustle of travel and society, and besides, my grand- 
 mother's health is so precarious that it would have been 
 neither convenient to taken or to leave her ; and moreover, 
 we were quite satisfied with our own land for the present, 
 for beautiful and attractive as must be the scenes which 
 you have visited, there are some things here which would 
 favorably compare with any in any other country. For 
 instance, what could surpass or compete with the love- 
 liness of this night ?" 
 
 " It is indeed a glorious night," replied her companion, 
 " everything is beautiful that I look upon now ; but sotting 
 aside the world of art, and granting that we see the same 
 moon through the same atmosphere, and that the nights 
 are equal in beauty, there is one thing which I should like 
 you as an admirer of Nature to see, and that is one of 
 Italia's own sunsets then you might indeed say, 'my 
 soul has a memory of beauty which Avill last me for ever.' " 
 
 " And yet," replied Sybil, "I have been so well pleased 
 with our own, that day after day, from a hill near Vernon 
 Grove, I never wearied of gazing upon our evening skies, 
 each afternoon presenting something new in character, 
 sometimes gorgeous and golden, or grotesque and wild, 
 and then calm and uniform as a tranquil sea. It was a 
 quaint conceit of mine, belonging rather to fairy land 
 than to the domains of my own quiet imagination, that 
 the spirits of the landscape painters of the past were 
 permitted in turn to try their skill and to leave an impress 
 of their peculiar style upon the heavens on each succeed-
 
 22O Vernon Grove. 
 
 ing evening ; so at one time I would have before me on 
 the great panorama around me Wilson's sublime life-like 
 limning ; Bui-net's rainbow-touched pencilling ; Claude's 
 inimitable and delicate coloring, or Berchem's superb 
 blending of light and shadow looming over magnificent 
 sky-cloud scenery ; and once, Mr. Linwood, I trembled, 
 for one balmy evening not long ago, the whole heavens 
 were clothed in a sheet of glowing sapphire, exactly 
 resembling the skies in your picture of evening, and I 
 thought that your spirit might have flown upward too, 
 without a warning to your friends, with nothing but 
 that sunset painted by your invisible hand to tell them 
 of your departure." 
 
 And as thus they conversed, almost better friends, if 
 possible, for their brief estrangement, the hours fled 
 swiftly until they were reminded by the departure of 
 the guests from the garden of the lateness of the hour, 
 then conducting Sybil to the house, he bade her and the 
 Claytons adieu, promising to call upon them the next 
 morning, a promise which he was only too happy to make 
 and fulfil. 
 
 The night had merged almost into the dawn when 
 Isabel, who had prevailed upon Florence to play a quiet 
 part in the pageant of the evening, sought her just before 
 her departure to exchange a few words with her. They 
 were entirely encouraged in the success of their plans, 
 for to them Sybil had seemed to fall an easy prey into 
 the |chemes which they had laid for her, and to enjoy 
 the homage offered to her with such zest, that they 
 .considered their victory already complete. This, to- 
 gether with the openly expressed admiration of Leslie, 
 who united in himself all that Isabel had classed under
 
 Vernon Grove. 221 
 
 the head of a " good match," led her to throw her arms 
 around Florence at parting and to call her in tender 
 tones her " beloved sister," bidding her to be of good 
 cheer, for such a fair beginning must of necessity make a 
 favorable ending. 
 
 And for Sybil, too, that night of enchantment had 
 passed away, and she stood at last in the solitude of her 
 luxurious apartment, with cheeks glowing with excite- 
 ment and a throbbing heart, thinking over the events 
 of the past few hours. She scarcely, however, felt her- 
 self to be alone, for her figure was reflected from head 
 to foot in the spacious mirror which hung before her in 
 its gilded frame, not as that Sybil Gray whose unassuming 
 costume in her home at Vernon Grove had scarcely 
 given her a thought, but as a Sybil Gray of the fashion- 
 able world, around whose bare neck and arms were 
 entwined costly pearls, and whose golden gossamer 
 ringlets no longer hung naturally upon her shoulders, 
 but were arranged in the more womanly style of a 
 studied coiffure. For once in her life she looked at her- 
 self attentively and curiously, and a deeper flush stole 
 to her cheek as she beheld the radiant image there. 
 Suddenly she awoke to a knowledge of her power, a 
 dangerous knowledge, and one upon which the nice 
 moral balance of character has often been wrecked. It 
 was no simple trial which came to her then; herself 
 bc'cnine the tempter, that fair strange image which 
 smiled as she smiled, and toyed with the circling bracelet 
 upon her arm. She had a right to be proud, it said, if 
 she would but remember the homage that she had' 
 received ; it bade her recall the minutest circumstance 
 in that evening of triumphs ; Leslie's words, so dele-
 
 222 . Vernon Grove. 
 
 rential and tender; Linwood's look of admiration; the 
 rapt attention with which all had listened to her songs ; 
 those numberless introductions, and last but not least, 
 Isabel's words at parting " good-night, my flower of 
 the forest I am proud to have you transplanted here." 
 " What was that monotonous country life, where each 
 day was like another, in comparison with that varied, 
 fascinating, joyous existence for which she seemed espe- 
 cially made ?" asked the mirrored image. 
 
 Not causelessly had Vernon trembled as he gave her 
 his parting blessing; the world's breath was welcome 
 already, nor did she turn away at once from its perfumed 
 incense. 
 
 "What shall arrest these bewildering wandering 
 thoughts," said another voice which she knew was the 
 clarion voice of conscience ; " what shall take thee un- 
 spoiled back to Vernon Grove, ere selfishness, pride, and 
 folly enter and obtain possession of thy heart ? Be true 
 to thy better nature and seek a safeguard." 
 
 Sybil made her choice, wavering but for an instant. 
 Quickly unclapsing her pearls and divesting herself of 
 her gauzy drapery, folding her luxuriant hair in less 
 artistic bands around her head, she extinguished the 
 blaze of light which had revealed to her that tempting- 
 picture, and kneeling down penitently ere she slept, she 
 sought and found that safeguard which she needed ; it 
 was prayer.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "In the song-voice, in the speech- voice, 
 
 There is but one far off tone ; 
 In the silence of my bosom, 
 
 But one burning throb alone 
 But one form of shade or brightness 
 
 In the mazes of my sleep, 
 One pearl of snowy whiteness 
 
 In my memory's heaving deep ! 
 
 How I glory, how I sorrow, 
 
 How I love with deathless love 
 How I weep before the chilling skies, 
 
 And moan to God above 1 
 I am higher, I am prouder, 
 
 Than if stars were round my head ; 
 I am drooping, I am lonely, 
 
 As a mourner o'er the deadl" 
 
 ALBERT LINWOOD did not confine his visits to Mr. 
 Clayton's house merely to the day after his return to 
 his native land, but was a constant guest there ; a wel- 
 come one, too, was he, and besides being an acquisition 
 to the pleasant circle gathered there, Sybil was learning 
 to look for his coming with pleasure and to call that a 
 disappointment which kept him away. He was so genial, 
 even-tempered, and frank, his conversation was such a 
 fund of information and amusement ; he was moreover 
 so handsome and refined, that when his bright face looked
 
 224 Vernon Grove. 
 
 in at the door it was always greeted with smiles. And 
 besides these considerations there was really a great deal 
 to be talked about by Sybil and himself, subjects that 
 had only been touched upon in their letters; Vernon, 
 her grandmother, the Grove, and paintings and works 
 of art innumerable, so that Sybil, from looking forward 
 to his presence simply with pleasant anticipations, in- 
 sensibly came to regard it in the light of a necessity and 
 right, and Linwood's place by her side was always 
 reserved as a matter of course. 
 
 Leslie's visits were almost daily also, and Florence and 
 Isabel soon began to perceive, that although Sybil did 
 not receive him with the warmth that she showed to 
 Albert, her manner was not sufficiently forbidding to 
 discourage him, and they felt that his devotion, his 
 manly bearing, and his wealth must eventually impress 
 her favorably and wake in her heart the slumbering 
 passion of love. They were convinced, too, from her 
 perfect unconsciousness, that this must be the work of 
 time, and Sybil received him as she would any other 
 visitor approved of by Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, until an 
 hour arrived which awoke her from her dream of igno- 
 rance and fully enlightened her as to Leslie's real senti- 
 ments. 
 
 Linwood came one morning, quite excited about a 
 picture upon exhibition, to invite the Claytons and their 
 guest to visit it. It was but just completed by a young 
 artist of great promise, who was a friend of his, and as 
 Leslie was present he included him also in the invitation. 
 The picture was hung in a hall which contained several 
 other fine paintings, all objects of interest, to Sybil 
 especially, who, in consequence of occasional lessons
 
 Vernon Grove. 225 
 
 from Albert, was now beginning to detect a copy from 
 an original, and readily to discover different schools of 
 art. kSlie named with unerring judgment, from some 
 peculiarity of coloring or execution, painters of different 
 styles ; and Albert was never weary in instructing her 
 upon these points or letting her into the secrets of the 
 profession which was to him the one absorbing aim of 
 his existence. But the chief present attraction in the 
 hall lay in the picture which he had brought them to 
 see, and which was entitled, A Happy Home. 
 
 The lights and shadows in the painting were quite 
 remarkable, and the grouping life-like and distinct, tell- 
 ing its own story, as being just what it was intended to 
 represent. The skies and scenery were purely Italian, 
 portraying that out-of-door existence which is lived 
 beneath Italy's genial skies. Before a cottage door sat 
 a woman with that rich voluptuous charm of beauty, 
 which is to be met with in no other clime, and upon her 
 figure the eye rested as the prominent one in the group. 
 But not long was admiration of her in the ascendant, 
 for there were other details to claim the attention. There 
 was none of the bustle of active English life in the pic- 
 ture, but a dreamy indolence which breathed only of 
 rest, tranquillity, and freedom from thought of what the 
 morrow might bring forth. The hour was sunset, and 
 at the feet of the woman reclined a stalwart man in his 
 peasant's dress, who appeared to have thrown aside some 
 implement of toil; and the half-satisfied, half- weary look 
 of the husband was in excellent keeping with the other 
 points in the picture. But the woman with her superb 
 dark eyes, and the man in his luxurious attitude of rest, 
 were not wholly engrossed with each other, for the 
 10*
 
 226 Vernon Grove. 
 
 glance of both was directed to the figure of a child in 
 the distance, crowned with flowers, and hastening onward 
 to her cottage home. The gaze of expectancy in the 
 child's face was finely contrasted with the mother's look 
 of pride and the father's aspect of quiet happiness, and 
 the calm which breathed from the whole scene, together 
 with the rich glowing coloring of the whole were un- 
 mistakably full of merit, and bespoke for the young 
 artist a certainty of future fame. 
 
 Each one of the party, who was indebted to Linwood 
 for a sight of the painting, admired it for its different 
 points of interest, now for its gorgeous colors, now the 
 loveliness of the woman, or the manly beauty of the 
 father, while Isabel was particularly attracted by the 
 unstudied grace of the child of southern skies. Leslie, 
 on the other hand, simply looked to the whole effect, 
 and in his own matter-of-fact truthful way, admired it 
 for what it really was, the embodied idea of an artist's 
 dream of a happy home. 
 
 Isabel and Albert at last wandered off to the other 
 pictures in the room, while Sybil and Leslie, satisfied 
 with the one before them, remained still examining its 
 beauties, which increased apparently the longer they 
 inspected it and from whatever point of view. 
 
 Assured that they were alone, Leslie ventured upon a 
 topic which he felt that his happiness imperatively de- 
 manded should be broached, and interrupting a passing 
 criticism which Sybil was making, he asked her what her 
 ideal of a happy home was, " I mean," he said, " if 
 you had the power, how you would depict it on canvas.-;, 
 how embody it so that others might see it and compare 
 it with their own ?"
 
 Vernon Grove. 227 
 
 " I scarely know," replied Sybil, " I have never 
 thought ; but it seems to me that it would be hard to 
 put on canvass just what I conceive to be happiness. It 
 lies not so much in scenic representation as in expression ; 
 not so much in expression as in something which is 
 internal and cannot be portrayed. To give happiness 
 and to be happy is nothing tangible, but is simply a 
 power emanating from one to do and be what would 
 please others, although from the fact of one so acting an 
 expression of divine beauty must emanate, and if I had 
 the genius I might paint such a face, and every one 
 would know exactly what to call it." 
 
 " Your answer is a vague one, I think," answered 
 Leslie, " though I understand you ; were you to ask me, 
 I think that I could define my idea much more clearly 
 than you have done yours. I could embody my 
 dearest and best wish in a picture which would be to 
 me even more attractive than the ideal of Mr. Linwood's 
 friend." 
 
 " I would like to hear you describe it," said Sybil inno- 
 cently, turning upon him the full light of her eyes, while 
 she met a glance which brought a radiant blush to her 
 face. The blush brought a confession which had been 
 trembling for days upon his lips. 
 
 " A happy home," he said with a tremor in his voice, 
 " I have never thought about until lately ; I have never 
 even cared for enjoyment beyond the present hour, and 
 have been content to play my part in society, to admire 
 beauty, to appreciate wit, and to return to my books 
 and home avocations often with a feeling of relief but 
 now, lately, there is a new thought in my heart under- 
 lying every other thought, and pervading my whole
 
 228 Vernon Grove. 
 
 being. The realization of it as I desire will make my 
 life one long season of intense and satisfying joy ; to be 
 disappointed in it must make my utter misery. You 
 must have perceived, Miss Gray, that I am not like most 
 men whom every fair face and form attracts, that I have 
 no passing fancies, and that life and its every-day occur- 
 rences are to me serious things. What I do and am, I 
 do and am in earnest, and it is the aim of my existence to 
 be true, and now that you know something of my dis- 
 position, this prelude will prepare you for what I am 
 about to say. With me to love once, is to love for ever, 
 and to love at all is to give my heart, my hopes, my 
 being into the keeping of her whom I feel that God has 
 appointed, whether she return my aifection or not, as 
 my life-angel. It is my joy and my pride to say that it 
 is thus that I love you, and to ask you, with a heart 
 trembling upon your decision, to be my wife, the guar- 
 dian of my life, and to lend the light of your presence 
 to my home to make it what it can never be without you, 
 a happy one." 
 
 All forgotten was the picture before which they sat, 
 so engrossed were they with each other, Sybil regarding 
 him with wonder and pity, tears glistening in her eyes 
 which from the shade of sadness in them were now 
 almost of a violet darkness, and Leslie leaning forward 
 to catch her faintest whisper which would bid him hope 
 or despair. It seemed to her as if he, on that eager 
 greedy gaze, must read what was passing in her heart, 
 and that she might be spared the answer; but no, he 
 wanted words. 
 
 "Speak, Miss Gray," he said almost imperatively, 
 " this suspense is positive torture ; only say one word to
 
 Vernon Grove. 229 
 
 end it; say that there is hope for me and that those 
 tearful eyes bespeak it." 
 
 Thus appealed to, the blood flowed away from Sybil's 
 face, a trembling seized her, and her hands became icy 
 cold, for she knew what an utter death of hope her 
 answer must bring. 
 
 "I cannot," she began, but so unprepared had she 
 been for his sudden avowal, that she knew not in what 
 words to couch her answer, and how to be cruel and yet 
 kind, and the accents died away upon her lips ; one more 
 effort she tried to make, but seeing Isabel and Linwood 
 approaching, she stopped confusedly. 
 
 " Think of what I have said," said Leslie in a low tone, 
 as he read anything but hope from her countenance ; 
 " it is best to think it over, and then to tell me calmly of 
 my fate ; but oh ! Miss Gray, Sybil, if it be possible, be 
 merciful ; you hold my happiness or my misery in your 
 hands." 
 
 Sybil stepped into the coach, which was to convey 
 her home, like one in a dream ; Isabel and herself were 
 alone, while Albert and Leslie followed in the carriage 
 of the latter. Isabel found her companion strangely 
 silent, and when she asked her some trivial question 
 about the pictures, or pressed her to give her opinion ot 
 a distant view which they were passing of spires rising 
 above a charming landscape, Sj^bil looked so distressed 
 and asked her so beseechingly to let her be left to her 
 own thoughts for awhile, that Isabel, fancying somewhat 
 the state of the case, indulged her in her wish, not that 
 she imagined such a preposterous finale to Leslie's devo- 
 tion as a refusal from her young protegee, but she thought 
 that he might have said some tender words which had
 
 230 Vernon Grove. 
 
 sunk deep enough into the quiet current of Sybil's soul 
 to agitate its peaceful flow, something which she, in her 
 usual silence, was dwelling on retrospectively with emo- 
 tions of pleasure. 
 
 When they reached home, Albert assisted Isabel to 
 alight, and Leslie hurried forward to conduct Sybil up 
 the steps which led into the hall. The shades of twi- 
 light were deepening, and yet there was light enough in 
 the heavens to reveal to his anxious gaze a smile upon 
 Sybil's countenance, had there been one, or a glance of 
 answering love, but he looked in vain, and she felt that 
 the agonized inquiring expression of his face was a ques- 
 tion which demanded a full answer, and it came from 
 her lips in accents of deep sorrow. 
 
 " I have thought it all over," she said softly, " and it 
 can never be." 
 
 Then with this cei'tainty of his fate hanging over him, 
 the world reeled with him, and he seemed like one stun- 
 ned by a sudden blow, and looking upward as if to ap- 
 peal to a higher power, he exclaimed, " Teach her, O ! 
 God, to be merciful !" but no star met his gaze, no ray 
 of hope, only the blank skies and the coming twilight. 
 
 One more appeal he ventured upon, and his voice was 
 turned to unutterable tenderness as he uttered it. " Will 
 not waiting," he said, " will not months, nor years, will 
 no probation, no trial or constancy, bring me nearer to 
 my only earthly happiness ?" 
 
 Sybil shook her head, and her face must have indicated 
 how much she herself was suffering in the protracted in- 
 terview, for suddenly remembering that he was keeping 
 her there on the threshold, perhaps against her will, like 
 one who sees a door which shuts him out from happiness
 
 Vernon Grove. 231 
 
 closed against him and doggedly accepts his fate, he put 
 out his hand and clasped Sybil's in his own, bidding her 
 an eternal farewell. 
 
 " If you cannot love me, pray for me, Sybil," he whis- 
 pered hoarsely, " for I shall need your prayers in my 
 solitary wretched home." 
 
 With eyes filled with tears, Sybil watched him for an 
 instant as he walked slowly down the steps like a man 
 suddenly overtaken with blindness, then hastening past 
 Isabel and Albert, who were awaiting her in the hall 
 and wondering what delayed her so long, she paused 
 not until she had reached her own room, and there in a 
 passion of tears her heart overflowed because, though 
 it could not have been otherwise, she had wounded a 
 true and manly nature, whose only fault had been in 
 loving her too well. 
 
 Sybil pleaded a headache, and remained in her own 
 room during the rest of the evening, and after Albert's 
 departure, which was much earlier than was usual, Isabel, 
 thinking that her services might be needed, went to offer 
 to her any assistance she might require. It needed no 
 assurance on her part to convince her kind hostess that 
 she was suffering, for her eyes were heavy and swollen, 
 and a bright red spot burned in either cheek. But she 
 was tearless now, for the storm had passed over and had 
 left her comparatively calm and satisfied. She felt that 
 she had done right, for she had subjected herself to rigid 
 self-examination and had decided that she could never 
 have given him the love which he demanded, and to an 
 all-absorbing passion like his, she felt that it would have 
 been mockery to offer the substitute of friendship. She 
 had concluded, too, as Leslie had signified to her that he
 
 232 Vernon Grove. 
 
 was about to depart from her presence for ever, that it 
 would be but just to explain the cause of his absence to 
 Mrs. Clayton and to keep nothing back from her know- 
 ledge. 
 
 " It was kind in you to leave your guests and come to 
 me, my dear friend," she said as Isabel entered and in- 
 quired if she felt any relief from her headache ; " the 
 pain which I felt has nearly passed away, and was sim- 
 ply an attendant upon a sad experience Avhich it has 
 been my lot to encounter this evening, and which agi- 
 tated me more than I can express. Your interest in my 
 welfare, however, is but one among your many acts of 
 kindness to me, and I would return it by a perfect con- 
 fidence on my part. Mr. Leslie told me this evening 
 that I had it in my power to decide his happiness or 
 misery " 
 
 "And of course you have decided to make him happy, 
 dear Sybil," said Isabel embracing her; "I must 
 congratulate you upon the conquest of such a noble and 
 worthy man." 
 
 " I told him, noble and worthy as he is," said Sybil 
 gravely, "that I could never be his wife." 
 
 A shade of disappointment and vexation passed over 
 Isabel's face. " Foolish child !" she said, you will regret 
 this ; you will repent of this mad folly. Mud and iboii>h 
 I term your conduct, because there is not one within the 
 whole circle of my acquaintance who would not deem an 
 alliance with Mr. Leslie as an honor and an advantage, 
 and so you should view it ; unless," she added, looking 
 full in Sybil's downcast face, " the heart that lie asked 
 for is given to another, the love that he would win 
 be already another's prize."
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 2 33 
 
 Sybil raised her eyes frankly, nor shrunk from that 
 long and scrutinizing gaze. 
 
 " No," she said simply and without any confusion, " I 
 do not love another. A mighty love must draw me to 
 make me give my time, my affections, my life to one, as 
 you have given yours to Mr. Clayton. Every recess in 
 my heart I must probe before I could say to one who 
 sought my love, ' with you I could pass a lifetime ;' some 
 thoughts like these passed through my mind as Mr. Les- 
 lie eloquently besought me to pause ere I gave him a 
 final answer, and then I was certain that I could not 
 could not love him as a wife should love a husband, nor 
 could my life be the happy sunshiny life that yours is." 
 
 " And you think that I am happy ?" said Isabel sadly, 
 forgetting for a moment her young friend in herself. 
 
 Sybil started at that unusually solemn tone, and for an 
 instant looked anxiously at Isabel, for her question 
 seemed to imply a doubt. 
 
 " So have I always deemed you," she said with can- 
 dor; "so have I always thought that a woman must be 
 who has married a man whom she has chosen from all 
 the world, and who has no wish ungratified. If happi- 
 ness consist not in this, then what is it," she asked, " I 
 mean the happiness which springs from married life ?" 
 
 " Is there nothing more out of God's treasury that he 
 can give ?" returned Isabel passionately, while hot tears 
 coursed each other down her face ; would nothing help 
 to fill up the tedious hours of these long lonely days ? 
 Did it never occur to you, Sybil, that this grand house 
 is too quiet, and that the prattle of a child, the silvery 
 tones of a youthful voice, the loving clasp of a dimpled 
 hand, the pattering of little feet, the trusting look in an
 
 234 Vernon Grove. 
 
 infant's eyes, might make me happier ? Oh, Sybil, you 
 cannot realize the longing, you cannot fathom the inten- 
 sity of that one wish of mine, breathed in vain to the 
 earth, the air, ay, to Heaven itself, and denied." 
 
 For a brief space of time Isabel's proud form was bent 
 and her face buried in her hands in a momentary strug- 
 gle with herself; when she looked up again it wore its 
 accustomed calm careless beauty, and her light musical 
 voice was no longer broken and sad. 
 
 "How foolish I was to intrude my troubles upon 
 you," she said, " when we were discussing yourself and 
 not me ; Sybil, forget them ; think once more that I am 
 just what you imagined me to be." 
 
 " I cannot forget that you are not happy, dear Mrs. 
 Clayton," replied Sybil. 
 
 " But I am happy, child, forget my folly in revealing 
 to you my one wild ungranted prayer ; and now let us 
 turn back again to yourself. Answer me candidly, Sy- 
 bil. Leslie, you say, is out of the question ; tell me, 
 then, with those truthful eyes of yours looking full at 
 me, if you are sure that you love no one else ?" 
 
 " Whom should I love ?" said she. " Mr. Vernon, 
 my grandmother, Mr. Clayton, and yourself, are my 
 world ; beyond it, and the love which I meet there, I 
 know of no other love ; believe me, for I would not de- 
 ceive you, dear Mrs. Clayton." 
 
 Isabel was satisfied, and yet as she stooped to kiss 
 Sybil's brow, she could not resist another appeal to the 
 foolish child who had thrown away such an amount of 
 positive good as the rejected hand of Leslie. " You had 
 better let me call him back," she said. 
 
 " No, wo," said Svbil more emphatically than before ;
 
 Vernon Grove. 235 
 
 while Isabel bade her good night laughingly, and left 
 her alone once more. Disappointed in the result of Les- 
 lie's suit, but satisfied that Sybil was heart-free, she left 
 the sequel to time, and waited to consult Florence upon 
 the next step which it was advisable for them to take. 
 The conclusion that the friends eventually arrived at was, 
 that Sybil, without being aware of it, was interested in 
 Albert ; and as her conduct to him each day made sur- 
 mise conviction, they rejoiced once more together that, 
 though not far-sighted enough to foretell the termina- 
 tion of their former plans, they could not now be mis- 
 taken in their newly-raised hopes.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 "On a sudden, through the glistening 
 Leaves around a little stirred, 
 
 Came a sound, a sense of music, whicn was rather felt tnan 
 heard. 
 
 Softly, finely, it inwound me 
 
 From the world it shut me in 
 Like a fountain falling round me, 
 
 "WTiich with silver waters thin 
 Clips a little marble Naiad, sitting smilingly within, 
 "Whence the music came, who knoweth?" 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 ALBERT LTNWOOD, previous to his acquaintance with 
 Sybil, had only been a worshipper of art ; the rose on a 
 fair woman's cheek w r as not to him an index of health, or 
 an eye bright with intelligence an earnest of the mind 
 within, they were merely regarded by him as fit subjects 
 for his pencil ; and so absorbed had he been in his studio 
 among his paintings, that the thought of love for any of 
 the fair forms, which often looked in upon the rapt 
 artist as his pictures grew upon the canvass, or for the 
 habituees whom he met in the fascinating whirl of society 
 never entered into his imagination. Life contained for 
 him but three objects, all centring in the first, and 
 they ranked thus : improvement in his profession until 
 it had reached a point where fame would be a certain
 
 Vernon Grove. 237 
 
 reward, next Vernon's approbation, and lastly a return 
 to Ins native land, crowned with honors. 
 
 Tims the first evening that he saw Sybil, and the 
 moonlight discovered to him her radiant loveliness, he 
 felt the true artist-emotion of admiration for what was so 
 singularly exquisite, nay more, he regarded her as some- 
 tiling which was of greater consequence to himself, a 
 model. In her fair hair he saw a realization of Titian's 
 dreams of beauty, in her blue eyes the very shade which 
 he had so nearly portrayed in her own picture, his Ideal. 
 Then her " coloring," in artist's phrase, was so much 
 like that which had been handed down from early times 
 of art, and which the painters of the modern schools tried 
 but in vain to copy, that he longed for his easel to take 
 a new and perhaps successful lesson from nature ; and 
 her form, so lithe, yet so firm and full, was a study in 
 itself. But though Linwood's admiration was excited, 
 his heart was not touched ; if a stray wave of hair escaped 
 from its fastening and glittered like gold in the sunlight, 
 he thought how easily with brush in hand he might make 
 the circling rings enduring ; did the shadow of her dark 
 lashes rest for a moment upon her glowing cheek, and 
 did her face assume a thoughtful expression, at once in 
 imagination he encircled it with a halo like another 
 Madonna. 
 
 In this absence of all heart-worship lay Sybil's uncon- 
 scious trust of him, for had his voice breathed love or 
 his eyes looked it, she would have shrunk back into 
 herself frightened at the perfect confidence which she 
 had reposed in him ; but as Vernon's friend, as her 
 correspondent, as the familiar guest of her friends, Sybil 
 gave herself up to the charm of his society, which
 
 238 Vernon Grove. 
 
 contained a fascination that few could resist. Soon 
 however there came a change unperceived at first by 
 her and almost unfelt by him, so like was it to the 
 gradual coming of twilight over the sea, so silent in its 
 approach, nor did he realize it until he discovered that 
 there was a higher object in life than even rivalling the 
 great masters in painting, and that so he gained it, 
 content was he to spend an existence inglorious and void 
 of ambition, and Sybil's smile was this rival to his art. 
 As a flower opening to the sun he gave one by one every 
 leaf into her keeping, and then his whole heart lay bare, 
 all her own ; she was the light, the warmth, the sun that 
 had given life to the flower upon which they had rested, 
 and to him this new experience, this developing growth, 
 was a blessed dream, more enthralling and absorbing 
 than any of his old dreams of distinction and power. 
 
 A fear that he should offend her, a desire to make 
 himself acceptable to her in every way, were now his 
 ruling passions, and a wish of hers, however simple or 
 extravagant, if possibly attainable, was always attended 
 to and gratified by her ever-watchful admirer. Daily, 
 rare and beautiful flowers, arranged with all the know- 
 ledge of an artist's combination of colors, graced her 
 table ; music he brought her when fresh from the 
 composer's hand ; exquisite plants and books, and all 
 those little gifts which are too simple to be returned or 
 refused by the most fastidious, and which were dictated 
 by a perfectly refined taste and a thorough knowledge 
 of the forms of society. 
 
 One evening, the conversation taking a general turn 
 at Mrs. Clayton's, music was discussed, its soothing 
 or exciting influence, from the first lullaby sung to the
 
 Vernon Grove. 239 
 
 almost unconscious infant, to the stirring strains of a 
 martial band. It was a wide field for one who was at 
 home upon the subject, and soon all were listening to 
 Albert as he touched upon different styles of music and 
 the softening power which it had exercised upon man- 
 kind, not forgetting the rude drums of barbarous nations, 
 the harp and timbrel of the Scriptures, the wandering 
 minstrels, the organ with its solemn appeal to w r hat was 
 religious in our nature, the piano with its varied powers, 
 the viol and its lively measure, and lastly night music 
 sounding in the serenade beneath the window of some 
 listening lady fair. 
 
 Sybil's eyes grew brighter as she listened, and hers 
 was the next voice that spoke. She always regretted, 
 she said, that the days of chivalry had passed, and that she 
 had not lived in the olden times, when through the 
 casements of their " ladye loves" the gallant knights told 
 of their affection in song, or a band of instrumental music 
 came softly borne on the night air mingling in a sleeper's 
 dreams. 
 
 " You talk as though the fashion were obsolete," said 
 Isabel, " when, in truth, serenading is as customary as 
 ever; it did not die out with Blondel, nor yet with 
 Shakspeare's enamored heroes, and though I cannot boast 
 of a plumed chevalier, with guitar strung by a blue ribbon 
 on his shoulder, pouring out his admiration in a love ditty, 
 yet I have often had a modern serenade so beautiful in 
 its perfect harmony of varied instruments that I have 
 felt glad to be able to say that I belong to the present 
 age rather than those which are past." 
 
 " How delightful," said Sybil, " a serenade must be. 
 It must appear like going to sleep soberly in this every-
 
 240 Vernon Grove. 
 
 day world, and awakening in fairy land to hear midnight 
 music." 
 
 That night Sybil slumbered in the sweet sleep of youth, 
 that deep unconsciousness, that dreamless state which 
 seldom comes to us after we have had struggles and 
 sorrows, but at midnight she started from her couch 
 trembling with delight, for just beneath her window a 
 melody uprose, so sweet and exquisite in its every note, 
 that she thought it must be the music of a dream. 
 
 A first serenade ! What moment in a young maiden's 
 life can compare with it ! What a feeling of pride and 
 importance it gives her ; with what a timid, trembling 
 hand a taper is lit ; how hastily and yet gracefully a shawl 
 is thrown around her white-robed form : how her cheek 
 flushes as she draws near the window and screens herself 
 behind the protecting blind. Then how all personal 
 feeling is forgotten in the cadence of sweet sounds ; how 
 the white feet keep time to the melody, the lips murmur- 
 ing the while inaudible thanks to the mysterious visitants 
 who unseen minister to her pleasure. Ah, it is an expe- 
 rience never to be forgotten, at least so thought Sybil as 
 she listened with her whole soul to the midnight music. 
 
 As she thus stood with heightened color, more brilliant 
 because of the crimson curtains which lent a still deeper 
 glow to her flushed cheeks, Isabel softly entered with her 
 finger on her lip enjoining silence, and they listened 
 together to the delightful strains. 
 
 They were a contrast too striking, too beautiful to be 
 passed unnoticed ; the one so brilliant and changeful, yet 
 so lovely withal, with her restless eyes, quiet for a moment, 
 and a smile upon her parted lips, every faculty, as it were, 
 wide awake, and listening with her whole beino:; the
 
 Vernon Grove. 241 
 
 other in the shadow, softer, gentler, her eyes half-closed, 
 her head resting upon her hand, and every limb in an 
 almost statue-like repose, every sense dreaming, every 
 emotion lulled into quiet by the harmony. 
 
 A sudden silence changed them both, to Isabel it gave 
 a voice, to Sybil an awakening from her delicious trance, 
 while the footsteps of the performers died away in the 
 distance. 
 
 " Do you know to whom you owe this pleasure ?" said 
 Isabel, " do you know to whose thoughtful interest you 
 can trace your first serenade . ? " 
 
 " It could scarcely have been for me," said Sybil, " or 
 if it was, it must have- been performed by some invisible 
 spirits of the air who heard my wish to-night." 
 
 " You owe it to Albert, Sybil ; how kind he is, how he 
 is ever planning for the lady of his thoughts happy 
 surprises, unexpected delights." 
 
 " He is indeed good, and thoughtful, and kind," 
 answered Sybil. 
 
 " It is the way that he tells his love, dear child," 
 returned Isabel. 
 
 Sybil blushed crimson, a blush of pleasure, Isabel 
 thought, but it was one rather of pain to her to whom 
 this revelation came. 
 
 " Yes," said Isabel in answer to the blush, " it is love 
 which dictates all that he does ; a love, which, when you 
 come to return it in its full depth and purity, will make 
 your happiness ; and which Richard will sanction with 
 his whole heart, for you are both very dear to him, his 
 little Sybil and his friend Albert." 
 
 Sybil sat down ; her limbs would not sustain her; she 
 felt suddenly cold and trembling. 
 11
 
 242 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " Tell him, tell Mr. Linwood," she began, she was 
 going to say, " not to love me," when Isabel interrupted 
 her with a kiss and hastened from the room. 
 
 Sybil did not sleep after Isabel had left her, but kept 
 vigil until the dawn. " What if Albert really loved 
 her," she asked herself " as Leslie had ; Albert, Ver- 
 non's friend ? What if he were to say to her, ' you can 
 make my happiness or misery,' and if her answer were 
 to be as before, 'it can never, never be,' how would 
 Vernon regard her after her rejection of one he loved 
 so well ? 
 
 Sybil was bewildered ; she longed for a friend to whom 
 to turn for advice and counsel but whom had she ? 
 She was alone there though surrounded by human 
 beings. With Isabel she could scarcely sympathize ; 
 Clayton was too much immersed in business to give her 
 any but a passing notice, and Florence too cold and for- 
 bidding. To Vernon himself she might have applied, 
 but he was too far off for any communication of so deli- 
 cate a nature, and her aunt Mary, whom she knew, 
 rather by what had been told her than by personal ac- 
 quaintance with her character, to be kind and tender- 
 hearted, too much a stranger to her to ask for her ad- 
 vice. And so, like many another inexperienced girl, 
 pressed hard by circumstances, mistaking fancy for the 
 delicious ennobling feeling of love, trusting to do right, 
 yet almost knowing that it was wrong, fluctuating daily, 
 hourly in purpose ; in a moment, when there seemed 
 to be no other refuge, no escape, with her heart far 
 away from her words, and her lips colorless and quiver- 
 ing she promised to be Albert Linwood's wife. 
 
 But we are anticipating.
 
 Vernon Grove. 243 
 
 The morning after Sybil's ever-memorable serenade, 
 Albert Linwood made his appearance at Mr. Clayton's 
 at an e:\rly hour, and Sybil, frightened by what Isabel 
 had told her, and thinking that a manner as cordial as 
 hers had been, might give him encouragement, was 
 silent, almost coldly so, during his visit. She politely, 
 though in measured words, thanked him for the plea- 
 sure that she had enjoyed, and then relapsed into that 
 calm indifferent state which almost maddened Albert, 
 and discovered to him how fervently he loved her, and 
 how much he prized her smiles. Then Sybil seeing the 
 anguish depicted in his face, felt that she had been pre- 
 mature in treating him as if he had already declared 
 himself, and in the effort to regain her former state of 
 playful confidence, raised Albert's hopes once more, until 
 a few whispered words of tenderness from him chilled 
 her again into coldness. And again when he had taken 
 leave of Isabel and approached Sybil, holding out his 
 hand as usual for a parting pressure, she drew herself up 
 almost haughtily, and appearing not to notice his out- 
 stretched hand, passed from the room. 
 
 Poor Sybil was a mystery to herself, she knew that 
 Linwood must feel that her manner was cruelly capri- 
 cious, she longed to fly away from the problem which 
 distracted her, which was to find out just how to conduct 
 herself towards Albert but that was not possible, her 
 visit to Isabel was not over, and she felt with a troubled 
 heart that while endeavoring to act aright, she met with 
 a signal failure. 
 
 After a few days of this trying state of things, like a 
 river which has gradually swollen and at last impetuously 
 overflowed its banks, Albert Linwood rushed madly
 
 244 Vernon Grove. 
 
 upon liis fate. He felt that he must know his destiny, 
 he felt that anything was better than those sudden reac- 
 tions from joy to despair and from despair back again to 
 joy ; the better part of his nature was wearing away 
 under the suffering which he endured, and like one who 
 has staked his all upon a single issue, he told her of his 
 love. 
 
 Sybil Gray was not surprised at his declaration, nor 
 did she feign ignorance of his sentiment ; she had ex- 
 pected it, and she thought that all that remained for her 
 to do, was to place her hand calmly in his with sisterly 
 kindness and tell him that she would be his friend, sim- 
 ply his friend, until life's history was over ; but passion- 
 ately he arrested those cold measured utterances and 
 stormed the citadel of her heart with protestations of 
 his eternal constancy. He would wait patiently until 
 she had learned to love him, he would be content even 
 to love her without a return if she would promise to be 
 his, trusting to his devotion to win her affections at last ; 
 he would do all, be all for her sake ; if she required it 
 he would relinquish his favorite occupation and live only 
 in her presence ready to come and go at her bidding, he 
 simply desired her not to say that word which would 
 sever them for ever. 
 
 And to the utterance of this mighty love Sybil lis- 
 tened sadly ; it was a love which would have satisfied 
 many a lonely yearning heart, but not Sybil's. There 
 Avas still something wanting after all eloquence had been 
 exhausted in its cause. 
 
 Some men, too proud for pleading, would have been 
 satisfied that the averted and emphatic, " I must not, 
 cannot listen to you, I can give you no hope," were what
 
 Vernon Grove. 245 
 
 they really expressed, explicit denial, but to Albert, 
 pride, where the winning of Sybil was concerned, was a 
 forgotten thing ; he loved madly, he pursued madly, he 
 would hope on until death or her marriage with another 
 came between him and his one object in life. 
 
 Sometimes such love is rewarded, sometimes patience 
 and prayer bring to pass our wildest, most unreasona- 
 ble desires, and in the meantime Linwood lived on hope. 
 
 Isabel was an unwearied watcher in all that apper- 
 tained to Sybil, and certainly was not idle in acting. 
 She played her part systematically and well, seeing with 
 her quick intelligent eyes something of the real state 
 of things, and at last winning from Albert by her inter- 
 est and sympathy his entire confidence. After every 
 conference with her, he left her more cheerful, for she 
 always gave him the hope that all would eventually be 
 as he desired, and that such constancy and love would 
 win its reward at last. 
 
 But there was another who looked with stronger in- 
 terest than Isabel upon the result, and it was after a 
 long interview with her that Isabel wrote and despatched 
 the following note to her brother : 
 
 "How forlorn and lonely you must be, dear Richard, in your now- 
 deserted home, how in need of some cheering words ! My hand can 
 be stayed no longer from writing to you and giving you some general 
 intelligence as to how we progress in this gay, busy, bustling world of 
 ours. First, I must write of Sybil. She is enjoying herself as you 
 must have anticipated, for how could such a happy hopeful nature as 
 hers be pining and unsatisfied when we have laid ourselves out to 
 plan pleasures and inventions for her enjoyment. I am proud of being 
 the guardian of one so beautiful and admired as she is, nor am I less 
 proud of the impression that she has made in society, and \ve all. as 
 well as herself, unite in pleading with you for another month of ab-
 
 246 Vernon Grove. 
 
 sence for her. You will not be astonished when you think of her 
 attractions, that I have a little secret to tell you concerning the dear 
 child. It is this, that she has discarded, though against my will and 
 advice, the best match in the city, a man altogether worthy of her, 
 and one whom you yourself would have approved. She will tell you 
 her reasons, I suppose, herself, as it is rather a difficult matu-r to treat 
 of here. 
 
 "My next subject must be your friend Albert Linwood. Tie men- 
 tioned to me that he had written to you the day he returned, advising 
 you of his arrival, with a promise of a speedy visit to Vernon Grove. 
 This, for the present, is indefinitely postponed why, you will learn 
 farther on. I must premise by saying that Linwood has great attrac- 
 tions, is independent, handsome, and agreeable, with his European 
 graces still lingering about him, and the charm of Italy in his eyes. 
 We always welcome him gladly, first for your sake, and next for his 
 own intrinsic merit. Now here is the reason why he has not hastened 
 to see you. No sooner did he land upon his native shores than he 
 became enamored of a charming young girl here, who it is thought 
 smiles upon him in return, and he is so much in love that he cannot 
 spare one moment from her side to visit you ; that will come in time, 
 however, when his fate is decided. All he wants from you now is the 
 sanction of your friendship to his love, and God speed to his heart's 
 first wish, which I have no doubt you will give, and some day not far 
 in the future, he hopes to introduce his bride to you. 
 
 "You may like to hear something of your old friend Florence Percy. 
 It seems to me, and all, that her whole nature is changed ; she is very 
 beautiful in her quiet demeanor, for you must know that she has taken 
 a dislike to society and lives in a very retired manner, and I am sure 
 by many expressions that fall from her lips that she is pining to be 
 once more in the country. 
 
 ""Write through your amanuensis a few words to your loving 
 
 "ISABEL." 
 
 Vernon received the above epistle just in time to save 
 him from a very melancholy fit of reverie, for each <l;>.y 
 the absence of Sybil was becoming less bearable. His 
 dark sunless world seemed more gloomy than ever, and
 
 Vernon Grove. 247 
 
 his old impatient mood was fast gaining an ascendency 
 over him. But now that he was assured that she was 
 well and happy, now that he had heard of her, and the 
 dead blank of silence was broken, he felt more resigned, 
 even though he knew that another month was to be 
 added to her stay: other feelings influenced him too, 
 which will be touched upon hereafter. His reply to 
 Isabel's letter was as follows: 
 
 " I have received your letter, dear Isabel, and feel grateful to you 
 for the kindness which dictated your sending it to me. Anything 
 which tells me of your welfare and Sybil's is welcome; keep her 
 another month by all means if she desires it, but do not let your fasci- 
 nations, or those of any one else, steal her heart entirely away from 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " As for Albert, God be thanked that he is at home again in safety. 
 And so he wants my sympathy in a new cause it is early to ask it, 
 lie has but so recently returned ; he must literally have fallen, as a 
 bird falls into a snare, into love. I really thought that he was proof 
 to all charms and spells but those of his beloved art. Nevertheless, 
 though I am a little jealous, ranking myself as I have always done 
 second in his affections, tell him that I congratulate him with my 
 whole heart on the happy life which has opened upon him I say happy, 
 because J know that he could never choose one unworthy of him, and 
 that I do indeed bid him God speed. Nay more, say to her whom he 
 would win, that no truer heart beats under heaven than his, and that 
 one who is a brother to him in all things save blood, would with his most 
 earnest counsel, nay with his last breath, if it were required, entreat 
 her to reject him not. 
 
 "Say to Sybil, that in her grandmother there is no change; my 
 daily visit is paid to her as a mere form, for she does not recognize me 
 at all ; repeat to her if any change should occur it shall be immedi- 
 ately made known to her." 
 
 These, with a few added words relating to Sybil, 
 asking Isabel to spare no expense to gratify her tastes,
 
 248 Vernon Grove. 
 
 and toTsee that her wants were all supplied, were what 
 Vernon's letter contained. The reception of it threw 
 Isabel into an ecstacy of delight, and long and earnest 
 was the conference of the friends upon the day of its 
 arrival ; it was read, and re-read, and commented upon, 
 and finally they concluded that fate must be leagued to 
 assist them, so admirably did their plot progress. 
 
 Sybil had obtained a promise from Albert to be silent 
 upon the subject of his love, as it seemed to her impos- 
 sible that the time would ever come when she could 
 respond to it, but though he resolutely kept his word, 
 even the most indifferent spectator w r ould have detected 
 his admiration of her in his looks and acts. Not that 
 they were obtrusive or annoying to her, for never was 
 love more delicately expressed than in his deferential 
 manner, and even Sybil was touched w r ith his devotion. 
 If such a thing could be, she almost loved him, and often 
 wondered w T hat prevented her returning his generous 
 affection, for she acknowledged to herself that he was 
 one who was eminently calculated to win the heart of 
 the most fastidious of her sex, as much by his intellect 
 as by the gifts which nature had bestowed upon him in 
 many ways ; still she felt in her heart of hearts that he 
 was not the magician who with his wand could lead her 
 by his will, and she trembled for fear that the pity which 
 is "akin to love" might conquer at last, and that an 
 encouraging word on her part giving him some thread 
 of hope might lead him to expect, eventually, to gain 
 more of her favor. The time allotted to her visit had 
 expired, and she looked confidently to her departure 
 as a deliverance from her embarrassing situation ; she 
 had fixed upon a day of return, and was making all
 
 Vernon Grove. 249 
 
 her preparations relative to it when Vernon's letter 
 came. 
 
 Isabel watched her opportunity and took the most 
 favorable time for acquainting Sybil with its contents. 
 The occasion she chose was just after Lin wood had 
 brought to Sybil an exquisite plant, which he had been 
 at some pains to procure, bearing it away from numerous 
 other applicants, and she knew by her voice, which at 
 once chid his extravagance, and the gratified smile that 
 played over her face, that her heart was touched and 
 softened by this new act of devotion. 
 
 Sybil had retired to her own room for the night, bear- 
 ing in her hands the precious exotic, and had placed it 
 upon a stand, and was seated before it inhaling its 
 delicious perfume and examining anew the extraordinary 
 richness of its coloring, when Isabel entered and told 
 her that she had just received a letter from her brother. 
 Sybil's hand was extended to receive it, but Isabel told 
 her playfully that brothers and sisters were supposed to 
 have some secrets, and that although she could not part 
 with the letter, she would gratify Sybil's natural desire 
 to hear from Yernon Grove by reading her some portions 
 of it. 
 
 Then she read the part about her grandmother's 
 health, and gravely added, in language like Vernon's, a 
 desire of his that she should remain a month longer, as 
 it was best for several reasons, and at last turned to that 
 part which concerned Albert; here she unfalteringly 
 proceeded in Vernon's exact words, from the joy which 
 his arrival had given, on to his commendation of his 
 friend, and lastly the charge to her whom he loved, art- 
 fully giving Sybil to understand that Vernon knew that 
 11*
 
 250 Vernon Grove. 
 
 it was she, knew that Albert had chosen her from all 
 others, and that nothing would gratify her guardian so 
 much as that she should be his wife. 
 
 A long silence followed Isabel's words, which fell deeper 
 into her auditor's heart than even the former was aware. 
 
 " And so he wishes it, he advises it ?" she said at last 
 sadly, " he is tired of his little Sybil and would give her 
 away to another." 
 
 "That it is the first wish of his heart you cannot 
 doubt," said Isabel. 
 
 " The first wish of Mr. Vernon's heart !" 
 
 A sigh which was almost like a groan followed the 
 echo of Isabel's words. 
 
 "Yes," answered Isabel, taking her hand and encir- 
 cling her with her arm, " I mean that your welfare is Rich- 
 ard's chief aim in life, for he feels to you as a brother, nay, 
 almost as a father who desires to secure the happiness of 
 his child. Look back upon the past and consider what 
 he has been to you ; you owe him almost everything, 
 he has petted you, watched over you, and often sacri- 
 ficed his pleasures for yours, and even your slightest 
 wish has been as a command to him." 
 
 "I need no reminder of his unvarying kindness," an- 
 swered Sybil, suddenly overcome with tears. 
 
 "Then," continued Isabel, seeing the impression that 
 her words made, "remember that it is no sacrifice he 
 wishes you to incur; no terrible self-abnegation; he 
 simply wants you to accept a fate which would bring 
 joy to his heart and happiness to that of his best friend, 
 a man who has everything to recommend him, position, 
 wealth, which he has gained by his OAvn talents and in- 
 dustry, beauty of person, gentleness and manliness.
 
 Vernon Grove. 251 
 
 Oh, Sybil, pause before you say another word, which 
 might condemn the one to disappointment, the other to 
 a life-long misery and exile from home." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" asked Sybil, suddenly raising 
 her tearful eyes and flushed face to Isabel's. 
 
 " I mean," she answered, " that Albert Lin wood is 
 reduced almost to despair ; the love which he has for 
 you is more intense, more deeply rooted in his nature 
 than the love which is common among men. I have but 
 a while ago left him, and he tells me that he cannot en- 
 dure this continued struggle, and that it must end in 
 his avoiding your presence, not that he complained that 
 it was your fault that you were not able to love him, but 
 he only in broken voice deplored his fate, and said that 
 as soon as he had seen Vernon, he would go as quickly 
 as possible back to Europe, never to return here again." 
 
 " And of course I shall be the cause," answered Sy- 
 bil bitterly, " of separating two friends whose affection 
 for each other is almost fabulous in its intensity. I shall 
 be the one to deprive Mr. Vernon of the almost only 
 comfort of his darkened existence ; because it is my fiat, 
 Mr. Linwood will desert his friend !" 
 
 "Such will be the case," answered Isabel gravely, 
 " but at the same time you must remember that you can- 
 al not help it ; you will only be the innocent cause of the 
 separation ; but oh, Sybil, if by any possible casuistry to 
 yourself you could overcome this strange repugnance, if 
 you could reason yourself into loving Albert Linwood, 
 do it, or if you will, only promise t<be his, trusting that 
 a holy love will be the result of a union so well assorted. 
 It would be a ray of light in Richard's dark path, it 
 would somewhat repay him "
 
 252 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " Hush," said Sybil in an excited tone, " you need not 
 remind me of that again, it is too deeply graven on my 
 heart." 
 
 Isabel tried to calm her by words of affection, but her 
 syllables seemed to fall on deaf ears, and she paced the 
 room to and fro, and muttered to herself as if really try- 
 ing to reason herself into obedience. 
 
 " You will weary yourself," said Isabel at last, trying 
 to detain her in her hurried walk, "be seated, and let us 
 talk the matter over calmly." 
 
 " Calmly ! Is it a subject for calmness ? Use no false 
 terms if you please, Mrs. Clayton ; let us look at the 
 thing as it is. Ah, it is the darkest night and hour that 
 ever came to my poor storm-tossed soul ! Be you seated ; 
 touch me not ; speak not ; move not ; only for five mi- 
 nutes let me see what port is nearest what safest for a 
 shipwrecked life." 
 
 Mrs. Clayton obeyed these strange passionate words 
 of Sybil's like a feeble child, frightened at her mood, 
 but still feeling that hers was not the power to quell 
 that nervous excitement. Suddenly she stopped before 
 Isabel, clasped her hands to her wildly-beating heart, as 
 if to end its quick pulsations before she spoke, and then, 
 deliberately and calmly, and with nothing but a slight 
 quivering of her lip to show that any emotion lay be- 
 neath her freezing words, she addressed her companion : 
 
 "Is Mr. Linwood still below? You left him there, 
 you say; is it possible that he may not yet have 
 gone ?" 
 
 " He is still with Mr. Clayton," answered Isabel ; " he 
 said that he would not leave immediately, thinking that 
 you might return to say good night."
 
 Vernon Grove. 2O 
 
 " Then go to him and tell him that I cannot come 
 down again to-night ; tell him, too, not to think of going 
 to Europe, so far from Mr. Vernon's presence, because 
 I promise to do as he wishes and to be his wife." 
 
 Motionless she stood, almost too still for life ; more 
 like death was her fixed and stony gaze. 
 
 " Are you sure ?" began Isabel, almost doubting the 
 evidence of her senses at hearing this plain and clear 
 avowal. 
 
 " Ah, yes, I am sure," interrupted Sybil, in the same 
 strange tone, and as if wearied with the interview. Then 
 she gently led Isabel from the room as if to prevent fur- 
 ther words. 
 
 " I will return, dearest, to tell you what effect this 
 rapturous intelligence has upon Albert whether he 
 keeps his senses or falls into madness from pure joy." 
 
 " No, that you must not do ; I do not doubt your 
 wonderful powers either of persuasion or description, 
 but I would be alone this night." 
 
 Isabel had gained quite enough, almost more than she 
 had calculated upon. She heard Sybil close the door 
 and lock it, and then with a bounding step and a face as 
 radiant as the morning, she went with the glad tidings 
 to Albert. 
 
 Poor Sybil ; the perfume of the brilliant exotic sick- 
 ened her ; the weight of the whole world seemed crush- 
 ing her the room was reeling her strength forsook 
 her and she fell fainting upon her couch ; but ere her 
 consciousness quite departed, mad words of anguish 
 burst from her lips ; they were few, but they told all. 
 
 " Oh, my God, it is over ; the sacrifice is completed, 
 and he is repaid."
 
 254 Vernon Grove. 
 
 ( Is there no experience similar to this ? Has no other 
 pillow on the first night of a betrothal been wet with 
 tcMi-s?) Are there no forced or interested marriages 
 which crush young hearts to the very earth ? Are there 
 no hours following a plighted troth, where, instead of 
 happy dreams, groans and sobs have- arisen in the dark 
 silent midnight ? Ah, yes, many a one whom circum- 
 stances have pressed into a marriage without love, could 
 tell you that such things are. 
 
 And yet it was Sybil's own voluntary act ; so is it a 
 martyr's choice to be broken upon the wheel.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 COME AND GONE. 
 
 " "Within those words how deep a meaning lies 
 
 A ray of light, a gloom ; 
 A. ray as bright as summer evening skies, 
 A darkness like the tomb. 
 
 Yes, thou didst come like beam of evening star, 
 
 That, gleaming on the night, 
 One moment sent its treasured ray afar, 
 
 And then was lost to sight. 
 
 Couldst thou not stay to glad our home a while, 
 
 Our home so reft and lone, 
 To light our pathway with thy tender smile, 
 
 To cheer us with thy tone ? 
 
 No ; by the truth that so bereaves my heart, 
 
 The sorrow deeply shown, 
 I feel that we have only met to part, 
 
 That thou hast Come and Gone" 
 
 CAROLINE HOWARD. 
 
 IT would be almost a vain attempt to describe Vernon's 
 calm happiness when, upon reflection, he mused upon 
 Isabel's letter. A new impulse to live and be happy, 
 spite of his blindness, was given him. He thought first 
 of Sybil's rejection of one who, as Isabel had written, 
 was in every way worthy of her, and it left him a hope 
 that she might, unspoiled by the fascinations of a city 
 life, be content to return to his more quiet home, and he
 
 256 Vernon Grove. 
 
 revolved new plans in his mind to render that home 
 more attractive to her than it had ever been. He sent for 
 fresh luxuries and choice pictures ; he had a garden laid 
 out which he called Sybil's, and into which nothing but 
 the rarest plants were to find entrance ; and as it was 
 Sybil's delight daily to arrange tasteful bouquets in every 
 available nook and corner in the house, he ordered a 
 variety of vases to be purchased, of antique forms and 
 exquisite designs, blending poetry and sculpture, so that 
 she might take renewed pleasure in her favorite occupa- 
 tion. 
 
 He even personally gave orders for a thorough remo- 
 delling of Sybil's own apartment, decorating it with a car- 
 pet which was more like an exquisite painting than a 
 combination of woollen colors, while her pretty furniture 
 was replaced by another set of a unique and elegant de- 
 sign, in which, as in all that was the result of Vernon's 
 taste and judgment, might be traced an idea of the beau- 
 tiful rather than the showy. Nor was the smallest par- 
 ticular neglected in the new arrangement ; and now that 
 he knew the shade of Sybil's complexion from Isabel's 
 description, arid that her hair was blonde and her eyes 
 of the tenderest blue, he exchanged the hangings in her 
 apartment for other drapery, so that it might lend to the 
 beauty of the fair occupant its harmonizing and subdu- 
 ing tone. Then he reserved a place for the books which 
 she loved, and further ornamented the room with exqui- 
 site and costly articles of vertu. 
 
 These seemingly unimportant details interested him 
 more than he might have been willing to confess, but 
 they were for Aer, to give her pleasure, and this was ex- 
 cuse enough to himself. Then when all was completed,
 
 Vernon Grove. 257 
 
 and the old housekeeper had declared her approbation 
 of the change, and had wondered what Sybil would do 
 and say when she should first enter that enchanting 
 chamber, he, too, grew restlessly curious to know what 
 her first impressions would be, and he was more impa- 
 tient for her return than ever. And yet somewhat re- 
 signed had he become to her absence, for a definite time 
 was fixed upon for its duration, and before long he knew 
 he should stand in her very presence and be contented 
 once more, and counting the hours and minutes seemed 
 to take away from them half their length. 
 
 Then another object of pleasing contemplation to him 
 was the idea of meeting Albert Lin wood ; of taking that 
 true honest hand once more within his own ; of hearing 
 his voice ; of knowing that he was near him once more 
 after so many years of absence, in which everything had 
 changed but their love for each other. What a bright 
 picture the blind man painted in his mind Sybil at home 
 again, cultivating her flowers, singing, or learning some 
 new lesson from his lips, while seated as of yore at his 
 feet, happy in his praise, yet grateful for his chiding if 
 she in the smallest particular deserved it ; Albert seated 
 with them, his conversation a rich treat as he discoursed 
 upon what he had seen in that far journey, and his cha- 
 racter doubly interesting, now that he had added to his 
 other experiences the ennobling passion of a worthy 
 love ; and Vernon himself, blind it is true to Sybil's lov- 
 liness and Albert's face radiant with happiness, but still 
 contented at last under his terrible and irremediable 
 affliction. 
 
 It was the first really healthy view that Vernon had 
 taken of his own troubles. He raised his head once
 
 258 Vernon Grove. 
 
 more from the drooping posture which it was beginning 
 to assume, with something like the hope of his old life in 
 his face and form ; snatches of gay song, memories of 
 sweet passages of poetry burst from his lips ; he had 
 turned over a new leaf in the book of existence ; the 
 very air which he breathed was more buoyant and wel- 
 come to him ; he seemed to feel that the sunshine came 
 in at the door where Sybil used to sit and listen to his 
 songs, not as it had come in her absence, in a long line 
 of unmeaning yellow light, but with glowing dancing 
 rays, and he loved to draw his chair to the spot where 
 she had passed so many of her twilight hours ere he 
 knew the value of her whom he was entertaining una- 
 wares, and to feel their warming and cheering influence, 
 and imagine that each ripple of gold as it reached him 
 brought a special message telling of her return. 
 
 But the sunlight was unchanged, the earth and the 
 air alike the same ; the only alteration was the happy 
 one in his own happy heart ; but we, who have the privi- 
 lege of looking into other hearts, know too well how ill- 
 founded this security of content was, and how the beau- 
 Jiful picture that Vernon had painted was sketched only 
 upon the shadowy and evanescent clouds. 
 
 We left Sybil crushed and alone, and Isabel speeding 
 upon her mission of joy. It w r as enough for Albert to 
 know that she had been won without asking how and 
 why. He was quite satisfied with the garbled ingenious 
 statement which Isabel made. Love such as his never 
 reasons. Like one intoxicated with happiness he called 
 Isabel his good angel, and besought her to ask Sybil but 
 for one moment to return to him, so that he might by a 
 single word or look express his gratitude, but she was
 
 Vernon Grove. 259 
 
 inexorable, knowing full well that Sybil could not just 
 yet have borne his presence, nor did she wish to subject 
 her to it, remembering the mood in which she had left 
 her, and that the cord drawn too tightly might snap if 
 but touched with a feather's w^eight. Therefore she 
 silenced Albert's eloquence by bidding him good night 
 and wishing him pleasant dreams, while he, smiling in- 
 credulously at the thought of his losing that blessed state 
 of happiness in unconscious slumber, he, who would not 
 be able to sleep for joy, departed with a promise of an 
 early visit on the morrow. 
 
 After a brief unconsciousness, Sybil awoke to h'fe and 
 its miseries and the new part which now devolved upon 
 her to play. She longed for sleep, and it came to her 
 like a gentle mother with a soothing melody for the 
 weary child, and calmed the fever in her frame and the 
 wild throbbing in her head; her last free sleep she 
 seemed to feel that it was, for on the morrow Albert 
 would have a right to know her very dreams. 
 
 She arose early the next day, and seeking Isabel, ex- 
 pressed her desire to return to Vernon Grove. Vernon 
 would scarcely expect her to avail herself of his kind- 
 ness to remain away another month ; it was but right 
 and proper, she said, under the new relations in which 
 she found herself, to go at once and acquaint him that 
 she had done his bidding to the utmost ; she knew of 
 no other reason why he should have wished her to stay 
 except that she might return as Mr. Lin wood's affianced 
 wife, and as the " first wish of his heart" was granted, 
 she presumed that she might now return. 
 
 Sybil spoke bitterly and with a crushed and broken 
 spirit, but Isabel was not moved ; there was something
 
 260 Vernon Grove. 
 
 yet to be done, the drama was as yet incomplete, nor 
 must the curtain fall before she had performed her part 
 an<l won the applause and gratitude of Florence. It did 
 not suit her to have Sybil leave her just yet, and she 
 reminded her of her promise, so willingly granted, to 
 remain another month ; and when Sybil said, in a strange 
 tone of voice, that promises ought not to be held sacred 
 with one so vile as she, one who had forgotten what it 
 was to be true, Isabel told her decidedly that it was not 
 convenient for her to return at present, making some 
 trivial and yet plausible excuse about the carriage which 
 was to take her back to Vernon Grove. 
 
 Thus even the change and excitement of the journey 
 were denied Sybil ; she was completely wretched, and 
 looked in vain for that approving inward sense of right 
 which she knew followed the pursuance of duty. She 
 longed for the solitude of the woods where she had ever 
 carried her childish troubles and had found sympathy 
 amid their shades ; she longed for the tones of Vernon's 
 voice, as well as for his written words which Isabel had 
 told her of, to say that she had done as he desired. She 
 felt the need of applause as much as an actress who has 
 strained every nerve to perform her assumed character, 
 and thought, mistakenly perhaps, that could he only 
 appear to her then and there, and say to her, as he had 
 often done when she had performed tasks which she 
 thought difficult once, but oh, how easy now " Sybil, 
 child, you have done well," that the tangled way would 
 seem clearer to her weary footsteps. 
 
 Twice she sat down to write to Vernon, but that 
 terrible third person, who was so necessary to him, 
 would know all, and so it was denied her to tell him
 
 Vernon Grove. 261 
 
 that she had obeyed him like a faithful child to the 
 last. 
 
 Then her mood changed, and from that nervous and 
 feverish state she settled into apathy and was indifferent 
 to all around. If Isabel spoke to her and counselled her 
 to wear a brighter face for Albert, whom she expected 
 momently, she simply said that it was impossible, that 
 Vernon had not advised her as regarded the expression 
 which she must assume, and that otherwise she had ful- 
 filled his commands to the very letter; and so, like one 
 wrought up to undergo any amount of mental suffering, 
 she awaited Albert's coming. 
 
 It was only the old story over again, a hand without 
 a heart, and who so blind as he who loves? Calmly 
 she listened to his rapturous words ; patiently she 
 received those caresses of his which raised him to un- 
 dreamed of happiness ; silently she heard his plans for 
 the future in which she now formed the prominent part. 
 For her to say that she loved him, he yet neither asked 
 nor required, and this delicacy on his part so touched 
 Sybil that she made a resolution, asking Heaven's aid, to 
 try with every effort in her power to return his affection, 
 but until that time came she was glad to feel that he 
 asked for no passionate declarations of love on her part, 
 but was content to sit holding her hand and gazing in 
 her eyes, satisfied that she was his own. It was in such 
 hours as these that all the secrets of his noble heart 
 became hers; he told her of his faults, his aspirations; 
 he exhibited to her his deeply religious nature and his 
 dependence upon a higher power for all the blessings of 
 life while he bent resignedly bcneatli its discipline. He 
 dwelt long and ardently upon his love for the occupation
 
 262 Vernon Grove. 
 
 which he had chosen and which kept him always so fully 
 alive to what was beautiful in art and nature ; and one 
 day he brought her the picture that had led him to fame, 
 his Inspiration, which he had promised as a gift to 
 Vernon, and he told her, now that she whom it so 
 resembled was all his own, he was content to yield it up 
 to another. Then he dwelt eloquently upon the coin- 
 cidence of this his ideal of all that was lovely being so 
 much like her ; heaven had guided his hand, he said, as 
 heaven had guided his heart. 
 
 Bu ; t last Sybil's strength was overtasked. It was 
 one evening when the chilly winds of winter came, and 
 the rustling of the withered leaves, reminding her of the 
 forest winds and leaves of Vernon Grove. Unmindful 
 of the cold, she had sought that marble sylvan temple 
 where, not many weeks before, she had breathed so 
 freely and happily, and in its shelter she hoped to find 
 the solitude which she so much needed. Everything 
 told of a wintry frost, and though careful hands had 
 been busied to preserve the beauty of the gardens, they 
 could not prevent the unceasing, fall of the dry dead 
 leaves, nor make the sluggish fountain flow, nor give an 
 appearance of warmth to the chill glistening marble. 
 
 Sybil sat down and bowed her head in her hands with 
 such a spirit of loneliness, such a desolate sense of home- 
 sickness, that she felt as if her young heart must break. 
 
 It was here and thus that Albert found her, and draw- 
 ing her hands from her face he chid her gently for 
 seeking the cold outer air instead of the glowing flame 
 within the house. But the only answer that Sybil vouch- 
 safed was a passionate flow of tears. 
 
 "Are you not happy, dearest?" he asked anxious! v:
 
 Vernon Grove. 263 
 
 " am I not worthy of you ? do you need a more devoted 
 love than mine ?" 
 
 Sybil still wept wildly, and Albert drawing her head 
 upon his bosom pillowed it there, and awaited anxiously 
 for some word of explanation from her whose single tear 
 was a source of anxiety to him. It was the place above 
 all others where, if 'she needed comfort and if she had 
 loved him, she would have found it, but raising herself 
 and rejecting the proffered resting-place, she looked with 
 tearful eyes into his and spoke. 
 
 " I confess it," she said " I do not feel happy, and it 
 must seem to you ungrateful to hear me say it, but I 
 cannot help it. I have given you my esteem and respect 
 and you said that you would wait patiently for my love 
 to come. Your devotion should have touched my cold 
 hard heart and melted it ere this, but I suppose that the 
 time will come, yes, it must, when I can repay you better 
 for your love than I do at this moment ; but, oh, Albert, 
 just now, just for a little while, look upon me as a poor 
 weak child and treat me like one, and let me go back at 
 once into the country. I know not why I am thus dis- 
 pirited and so unlike my former self, unless it be that I 
 have led this artificial city life too long, and it seems to 
 me that a purer air and the free, free woods in which I 
 was born would restore me to something of my native 
 cheerfulness. Here I know that I shall distress you by 
 this weary listless spirit, here," she added, with sudden 
 energy, " I feel that I must die." 
 
 Why did he not see it all before ? he asked himself, 
 why did he not read her thoughts and discover how little 
 the sweet wood violet could flourish out of its own pure 
 atmosphere. He hastened to Isabel and urged her to
 
 264 Vernon Grove. 
 
 send Sybil back to Vernon Grove at once, and the former 
 no longer objecting to her going, acceded to his propo- 
 sition, naming the day and hour for Sybil's departure. 
 It was not quite as early as Albert could have wished, 
 for she still wanted time. She no longer raised obstacles 
 to the leave-taking, because now she would go as Lin- 
 wood's affianced wife, but some preliminary steps were 
 to be taken. She must write to Vernon and let him 
 know of Sybil's return and under what circumstances ; 
 this was a delicate task, but her ingenuity soon found a 
 ready way to accomplish it. Fortunately for the deve- 
 lopment of her plans, she had told Albert and Sybil that 
 she would herself write and acquaint Vernon of their 
 engagement, and she congratulated herself upon wait- 
 ing until the precise and most auspicious moment had 
 arrived. 
 
 When Albert left her, she sat down and penned a few 
 hurried words to Vernon, duly approved of by Florence, 
 and with which she herself was satisfied as a master- 
 stroke of policy, and though she knew that the shock must 
 be a great one to her brother when the intelligence first 
 reached him, still it must exonerate her from all blame in 
 his estimation. Those hurried lines were the following : 
 
 " DEAK RICHARD : 
 
 ' Who can foretell the future ? Albert Linwood has selected a bride, 
 as I forewarned you, but you will be astonished to hear that his affi- 
 anced is Sybil Gray, astonished and delighted both, for she is the child 
 of your adoption and he the brother of your love. You must expect 
 to see Sybil in the early part of next week ; Albert will follow her a 
 day or two after her departure, when you can judge for yourself how 
 certain it is, that with their congenial ages, tastes, and dispositions, 
 they will be happy in their united lives. 
 
 " As ever, your loving ISABEL."
 
 Vernon Grove. 265 
 
 It was well that Yernon's servant, who read this abrupt 
 epistle, not in the least suspecting the agony it inflicted, 
 immediately left the room to give notice that Miss Gray 
 was soon expected back, an event which caused the whole 
 household, as well as himself, who had now risen by his 
 devotion to Vernon's interest into a humble friend, great 
 rejoicing, for Sybil was beloved by all. 
 
 It was well that in his presence Vernon had command 
 over himself, for no sooner had he departed than his old 
 enemy, unrestrained passion, burst forth ; he felt struck 
 as with lightning, not dead, that would have been best, 
 lie thought, but scathed as with liquid fire ; the bitterest 
 curses issued from his lips, and he hurled upon the head 
 of the child whom he had love I so tenderly and upon 
 the friend whom he had cherished, maledictions deep 
 and strong. 
 
 His life all lonely, his hopes all blasted, wronged as he 
 deemed it by his friend, forsaken by Sybil, he was reckless. 
 
 Suddenly seizing a pen which he knew lay upon the 
 table, and with which he had often employed himself in 
 forming characters since his blindness, he wrote a few 
 words to Sybil and folded the letter, then calling John, 
 he bade him direct, seal, and forward it without delay, 
 feeling a fierce satisfaction in what he had done, and yet 
 succeeding well in preserving an outward calm before 
 his servant. 
 
 Sybil was luckily alone when she received the letter. 
 At first she did not understand its cruel meaning, and 
 then when she spelled out the strange words, and their 
 significance broke upon her with its full force, she would 
 have fainted had she not felt that she had need of all her 
 self-possession, for a battle was before her which she would 
 12
 
 266 Vernon Grove. 
 
 be obliged to fight alone, knowing that what such a man 
 as Vernon had written she must abide by then and for 
 ever. 
 
 The few terrible words ran thus they were scarcely 
 legible, but too truly were they written there 
 
 1: Sybil, the blind can write under some circumstances, and a few 
 lines will convey to you what I design to say. Your aunt Mary, no 
 doubt, will receive you, for this cannot be a home to you again ; you 
 must come to Vernon Grove never more. 
 
 " RICHARD VERXOX." 
 
 If she had known what she had done to provoke his 
 anger, if he had only enlightened her as to the extent of 
 her delinquency, she could have borne better that dreadful 
 mandate of banishment even though she had been accused 
 wrongfully, but he had shut the door to everything like 
 an explanation and only time would reveal to him 
 the wrong that he had inflicted upon her. But perhaps 
 she deserved it, she thought. Then at this suggestion, 
 with a scrutiny which gave herself no mercy and spared 
 not her slightest fault, she examined her words and acts 
 for the past two months, and still she could find nothing 
 very blamable in her conduct, not even any inconsisten- 
 cies too flagrant for forgiveness on his part. 
 
 To Yernon's sister she felt that she must not complain ; 
 what right had she to intrude herself upon Isabel's home 
 and protection, when her brother had discarded her as 
 too unworthy to find a shelter beneath his roof! No, 
 some other plan must be thought of. 
 
 Xext, the idea occurred to her of writing to Vernon 
 and humbly asking where her offence lay, and desiring 
 pardon for any omission or commission on her part, but his
 
 Vernon Grove. 267 
 
 having written himself, seemed to be proof conclusive that 
 he did not wish another to share the mystery, whatever 
 it was, and she did not dwell long upon that thought 
 because of its impracticability. She must act as though 
 Richard Vernon who had so often laid his hand upon her 
 head and promised her protection through the storms 
 of life, were dead to her, or had thrust her from his 
 world. 
 
 Then to have asked consolation or sympathy from 
 Albert, feeling as thus towards him, she could not, would 
 not ; so turn where she would, like a poor wounded hare 
 pressed hard on all sides by its pursuers, she stood 
 stationary for an instant with a glare almost of insanity 
 in her eyes, looking around to see if there was no way 
 of escape, through tangled wood, or fern, or deep waters, 
 or burning fields. Had she paused long in that unprofit- 
 able survey it would literally have maddened her, and so 
 at once seeking Isabel she told her as calmly as she could 
 that she would avail herself of her kindness, and instead 
 of going to the Grove, she would pay a vist to her aunt, 
 whom she had not seen since her early childhood. Isabel 
 thinking this arrangement natural enough, and supposing 
 that Vernon would send for her there, readily acceded 
 to Sybil's washes, and little deemed that under that calm 
 cold exterior a human heart was bleeding. 
 
 Then came the parting with all who had been kind to 
 the gentle girl. Her consideration always won the love 
 and respect of domestics, and as they gathered round 
 it was a sad trial to her to hear their words of sorrow at 
 the thought of losing her, or some chance allusion to 
 Linwood, for their relation to each other was generally 
 known, and though couched in respectful terms, the
 
 268 Vernon Grove. 
 
 simple wish of a long and happy life and a pleasant 
 journey with her chosen companion to the end, failed 
 to bring the smile which they tried to call to her lips. 
 
 Next followed her farewell to Clayton ; if he could 
 have loved anything but his wife and the constant 
 accumulation of gain, he must have loved Sybil, for she 
 had left the impress of her pure and beautiful spirit upon 
 his household, but his heart was hardened to anything like 
 affection beyond his contracted sphere, and a hurried 
 " good-by " was all that he vouchsafed her. Afterwards 
 she turned to Isabel, looking to her, at least, who had 
 taken such an interest in her fate, for some deep emotion 
 now that she was about to leave her, but she, feeling 
 somewhat conscience-stricken at the sight of that pale 
 suffering face, affected an air of levity which served to 
 deaden her self-reproach and Sybil turned away from 
 her heartless adieu to meet what she most dreaded, 
 Florence's scornful bearing. Delicacy might have kept 
 her away, knowing that Sybil could feel no affection for 
 one who scarcely made a secret of one day hoping to 
 take her place at Vernon Grove ; but curiosity prevailed, 
 she wanted to see the last of her rival who was now so 
 surely removed from her path. 
 
 She was more regal than ever, Sybil thought, and that 
 queen-like bearing became her well ; her lips were blandly 
 smiling, but her eyes were gleaming with a cruel light, 
 an assumption of power, which lit up her face with a 
 wondrous beauty. 
 
 Sybil extended her hand and looked deprecatingly 
 towards her as though silently asking her not to kill one 
 so crushed already, with a word of unkiudness, but 
 Florence, in the height of her pride and consciousness
 
 Vernon Grove. 269 
 
 of success, like a tiger watching her prey, still kept her 
 basilisk eyes fastened upon her and heeded not her 
 beseeching glance. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, touching Sybil's hand with the 
 tips of her long slender fingers, "that when we pay 
 another visit to Vernon Grove, as we intend to, Mr. 
 Linwood will have claimed you as his bride, and Mr. 
 Vernon will be our sole entertainer. We shall miss the 
 little songstress, who entertained us, and should we go 
 upon an expedition to the Cave, we shall feel sadly in 
 w r ant of some one to get up an exciting scene." 
 
 " Would to God I had died in that gloomy cavern," 
 thought Sybil, but she only murmured some common- 
 place words in reply, and passed out to the carriage where 
 Albert was waiting to arrange her furs comfortably, and 
 to utter some low tender words at parting, which Sybil 
 scarcely heard or understood. 
 
 "Expect me soon dearest," he whispered, "I shall 
 hasten from Vernon Grove as soon as I possibly can after 
 my visit to Richard, and see you at your aunt's, for where 
 you are not, there is no happiness for me." 
 
 " Thank you," said Sybil, looking up with a strange 
 almost idiotic smile. She felt called upon to say some- 
 thing, she did not exactly know what, and the carriage 
 moved off with its sad and weary occupant. 
 
 It was a long, long drive, and before many miles were 
 passed the rain came down in a steady drizzle, and the 
 cold wind moaned through the branches of the trees. 
 
 " Better thus," thought Sybil, " than the gay, happy, 
 mocking sunshine." 
 
 The carriage reached the humble cottage door, and 
 Sybil alighted and entered. A staid woman, with placid
 
 2jo Vernon Grove. 
 
 face, and her grey hair combed smoothly upon her un- 
 wrinkled brow, sat by the fire intently engaged in knit- 
 ting. So passionless an aspect had she, so mechanical 
 were her movements, so busy was she in her occupation 
 as though life had no other work for her to do that 
 a looker-on might have said she had traversed the stormy 
 waves of existence, and had now emerged into a calm 
 open sea, where not even the memory of the past re- 
 mained to her to disturb the serenity of her look; or, if 
 passions were beneath that calm exterior, or had memory 
 ploughed deep furrows in her soul, she had learned the 
 art of keeping them subjected to her will and out of the 
 sight of others. 
 
 She did not hear Sybil's step, nor know of her pre- 
 sence until she felt a hand upon her shoulder, and a most 
 musical voice speaking close to her ear. 
 
 " Dear aunt Mary," said she, " I have come to live 
 with you, if you will let me ; you remember Sybil, whom 
 you called your pet once, when she was a little child ? I 
 am strong, and shall not be much of a burden to you, 
 for I can help you work ; will you let me come ?" 
 
 The kind-hearted woman arose at once, and gazing a 
 moment intently at Sybil, brushed away a few tears as 
 she saw her brother's features reflected in his child's, 
 then kissing her, she bade her welcome, took off her 
 bonnet, chafed her cold hands until they were warm, 
 threw an additional stick upon the fire, which burned 
 brightly with a cheerful glow, saw that her trunks were 
 carefully placed in the little passage-way, and then sat 
 down with her at the hearth. 
 
 It was all humble enough, but it was a refuge, and a 
 home.
 
 Vernon Grove. 271 
 
 " And so those grand proud folks have forsaken you," 
 at last said the placid-faced woman. " 'Put not your trust 
 in princes,' says the good book ; have they turned you 
 away, Sybil, dear ?" 
 
 " They have, aunt Mary." 
 
 Sybil shivered ; the truth had not come home to her 
 so certainly before ; here was no glossing over of words 
 she had been literally turned away forsaken. 
 
 " You are cold, child, draw nearer yet to the fire." 
 
 "Oh, no, I am not cold now," she answered; "you 
 are so kind and good, and it is so warm and comfortable 
 here ; what a pleasant home you have, dear aunt Mary." 
 Sybil felt what she said spite of the stained plastering, 
 rough floor, and rude chair upon which she was 
 seated. 
 
 "I wonder that you think so," returned her aunt, 
 just coining as you do from the grand home of a rich 
 man ; but you will get here what failed you there some 
 one to love and cherish you always some one who will 
 not forsake you until death takes her from you. I 
 always thought that it was a bad plan of your grand- 
 mother's to give up her cottage and take you to live at 
 Mr. Vernon's ; but what better could we have expected 
 from a soured, unhappy, wicked man ?" 
 
 "Oh, no, not that not the last," answered Sybil, 
 rising and laying her hand upon her aunt's. 
 
 " Well, perhaps I may be mistaken," she said less bit- 
 terly, " but he has done you some wrong has he not, 
 darling that you come from his downy carpets and sil- 
 ver dishes to this humble shed ?" 
 
 Sybil leant her head against the low mantel, and gazed 
 dreamily into the fire. " He has only told me never to
 
 272 Vernon Grove. 
 
 come to Vernon Grove again," she said with a tremulous 
 voice. 
 
 " Never ! that is a hard cruel word, Sybil." 
 
 " And yet I loved him, God knows," she said passion- 
 ately ; " I loved him in his helpless blindness as a sister 
 might love a bi'other. I have been patient with him, and 
 self-denying, scarcely allowing myself needful exercise at 
 times ; then I have watched and waited for his faintest 
 word, and fondly deemed that I had won from him a 
 brother's love, until this wretched day, when all is 
 changed. Oh ! aunt Mary, you know not what I have 
 lost such a friend, and such a happy, happy home. 
 If I had been ungrateful,! might have deserved it all ; but 
 I have always tried to do what would please him best 
 and not to know why I am banished is the bitterest pang 
 of all." 
 
 " Do not weep so wildly, dear Sybil," said her aunt, 
 frightened at the violence of her grief; " if you have lost 
 one home, here is another, humble though it be, where 
 you and your grandmother will ever be welcome." 
 
 " I know it I feel it," was Sybil's answer, " and you 
 must not think me repining or dissatisfied ; it is so hard 
 to realize this sudden change so hard to think what she 
 will do in her helplessness without me, and how Mr. 
 Vernon, proud though he be, will find his way through 
 the tangled woods, to his favorite haunts, without my 
 hand to guide him." 
 
 Her kind relative tried, by reasoning and comforting, 
 to still those passionate words of despair ; but in the 
 end she let her weep on, until at last, quite new to sorrow 
 such as this, or indeed any sorrow save the terrible 
 ordeal which she had lately passed through in promising
 
 Vernon Grove. 273 
 
 to be Albert Linwood's wife, she accepted, like a poor 
 shipwrecked mariner, any aid that was offered and 
 half kneeling before the glowing fire, the violence of her 
 grief seemed spent, her tears turned to occasional sobs, 
 and pressing her hands hard over her eyes, she became 
 more quiet. Then the old lady drew the child towards 
 her until Sybil's weary and aching head rested in her 
 lap. Soon Sybil's sobs came less frequently, her breath- 
 ing was more regular, her limbs relaxed, her hands 
 dropped helplessly from her closed eyes, and she slept 
 for very sorrow. 
 
 Her sleep, if that it could be called, in which there was 
 no rea' repose, but a succession of starts, and a quivering 
 of her rich ripe lips like a grieved child's, did not con- 
 tinue long, and she awoke with a frightened look and 
 gazed wildly around. 
 
 " I would not think about him any more," said her 
 aunt, now finding it necessary to be decisive ; ".forget 
 one who has proved so cruel, so false-hearted." 
 
 "He is not cruel, not false-hearted," she answered 
 quickly; "aunt Mary, if you love me you must take 
 those words back." 
 
 "I cannot take them back, and will not, either," 
 returned her aunt, " until you can prove him otherwise, 
 by letting me hear the whole story ; sit down, Sybil, 
 and tell me alj, so that I may judge between you ; for 
 now that he has sent you away from him into another 
 home discarded you, as I understand you, without a 
 hearing ; now that you are mine, and not his, I must 
 hear all." 
 
 Sybil seated herself again, gathered up her long, dishe- 
 12*
 
 274 Vernon Grove. 
 
 veiled hair into something like order, clasped her hands 
 together, sighed deeply, and then began her story, while 
 her aunt Mary bent over her knitting-work, and the 
 polished needles clicked in their eternal round.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " How changed since last her sparkling eye 
 Glanced gladness round the glittering room, 
 Where high-born men were proud to wait, 
 Where beauty watched to imitate 
 Her gentle voice and lovely mien, 
 And gather from her air and gait 
 The graces of its queen." 
 
 " So the dreams depart, 
 So the shadows flee, 
 And the sharp reality 
 Now must act its part." 
 
 "WELL, aunt Mary," Sybil began, " you know that he 
 is very rich ; you, in your humble home here, can scarcely 
 realize what his wealth is, and how, though he never has 
 beheld, and never will behold all the magnificence at 
 Vernon Grove, his inner spirit craves for whatever is 
 beautiful and refined. You could scarcely understand, 
 unless you knew it and had seen it, why it is that he 
 cannot be happy unless he is surrounded with all that is 
 most attractive in nature and art ; or why, even though 
 blind, he knows just where a picture ought to be hung 
 that the lights may fall upon it properly, or what groups 
 of flowers would make the best display. Even I do not 
 comprehend it fully, though I have known him so long,
 
 276 Vernon Grove. 
 
 unless it be that there is a spirit of beauty, a harmony 
 within him, just as there is in an artist's nature, which 
 calls for a corresponding beauty without." 
 
 " But the story," said aunt Mary. 
 
 " Ah, yes, I had forgotten ! Ever so long ago, when I 
 was quite a little child, I remember his coming to grand- 
 mother's cottage, and saying to her in his cold proud 
 way, while he leaned against a sapling near the porch 
 
 " ' I have come to ask you to live with me, Mrs. Gor- 
 don ; you are declining in life, with but few comforts 
 around you, and we may be of use to each other ; you 
 M ith your buoyant spirit which knows so well how to live 
 down trouble and disappointment, can cheer me, and 
 a home with me will save you much anxiety and labor 
 for the future ; come, and the obligation will be mutual ; 
 besides, I ought not to be entirely a stranger to my 
 mother's early friend.' 
 
 " Grandmother glanced at me and looked troubled ; 
 then remembering that he could neither see the glance 
 nor the troubled look, she said : 
 
 " ' But the child, Mr. Vernon ; I promised never to 
 forsake her, and her parents, in another world, will ask 
 her at my hands ; and perhaps if I take her to your 
 grand home, her wild untaught ways and my devotion 
 to her might not be exactly what you would like.' 
 
 " ' Bring the child, Mrs. Gordon,' he interrupted, 
 ' your duties to her shall in no way interfere with what 
 I would require of you.' 
 
 "'But,' continued grandmother, 'there are other 
 reasons which make it seem best that I should remain 
 here. There are so many changes with the great and 
 wealthy, that we may have after all to return to our cot-
 
 Vernon Grove. 277 
 
 tage, not so content as when we left it. I have heard, 
 too, of a place where the blind can go to be taught bet- 
 ter to enjoy life, and where it becomes quite easy for 
 them to read and write. Still, if these are not objec- 
 tions, there is another thing which would materially 
 alter Sybil's fortunes and mine ; this dreary country life, 
 now a novelty to you, will not content you long ; you 
 will leave it for other excitements and pleasures, and in 
 your wanderings you would find many a lady of the land 
 who would be glad to place her hand in yours and lead 
 you the world over.' 
 
 " Though it is many years ago that he stood there 
 before the cottage door, I shall never forget the lights 
 and shadows of feeling that passed over his face, like the 
 play of summer lightning. It seemed to me that the 
 light was there because grandmother had drawn a 
 pretty picture of a blind man led by a fair white hand 
 and guided on by a tender voice ; and shadows, because 
 he knew that at least then, it was not real, and no one 
 waited at home for his return ; or perhaps after all it 
 was only the evening sun that brightened his face for a 
 moment ere it disappeared, leaving his naturally gloomy 
 aspect darker than before. 
 
 " Mr. Vernon was silent for a moment, and pressed 
 his hand upon his heart as though there was a pain there, 
 and then answered sadly and with something of bitter- 
 ness in his tone 
 
 " ' You need fear neither of the events which you 
 have mentioned ; first, because I am past the age when 
 I could regularly apply myself to learn a new language, 
 the language of the blind, and because I should be too 
 impatient to study the minute details of such instruction :
 
 278 Vernon Grove. 
 
 then as for the other contingency, I fear that the ladies of 
 the land, as you call them, would scarcely thank you for 
 the privilege which you are so ready to offer them ; true, 
 there might be some who with a Sister of Charity spirit, 
 for pity, might undertake such a task ; and I know one, 
 and perhaps others, who would accept the office for the 
 sake of the gold which gilds it and which happens to be 
 the blind man's heritage, but these I want not. As for 
 inspiring pure love, the love which endures all, hopes 
 all, gives all, that I can never hope to gain. I have ex- 
 perience to tell me this ; and my contempt for woman 
 as I have known her, her deceit, her avarice, her world- 
 liness, is too much a part of my nature for me ever to 
 regard her otherwise than I do now. But though this 
 is my view of the ball-room butterflies that I have met, 
 I am afraid that I do some choice spirits that I have not 
 met a grievous wrong, and it is for this very reason that 
 I want your companionship, so that you may lead me to 
 suppress this continual murmuring against men and des- 
 tiny, and make me look on the bright side of life instead 
 of its darker aspect. It is because I am proud, and sus- 
 picious, and wilful by nature, that I want your kind 
 counsel to check me and to help me to be more like 
 yourself, tried, and yet patient ; afflicted, yet humble ; 
 lonely, yet not repining ; yet why, oh, my God !' he 
 exclaimed passionately, ' why is it that I am so stricken 
 down and need this discipline ? Why, under such a 
 dispensation, was I not made gentle and forbearing? 
 Life is almost too worthless a thing to care for. A blank 
 or positive torment would be almost preferable.' 
 
 "It appeared to me that grandmother, with her calm 
 passive nature, scarcely understood his impulsive words,
 
 Vernon Grove. 270 
 
 so sad and despairing, or the character of him who stood 
 before her as he bared his proud heart and showed its 
 secret sins, for she said something reproachfully about 
 his battling against the decrees of Providence, and his 
 gathering only thorns when he might gather flowers. 
 
 " ' Flowers !' he said, while his blind eyes seemed to 
 gaze fruitlessly around, ' give them to me; tell me where 
 there are any in my path.' 
 
 " I could not understand then all that he meant, 
 though I do now, and simple child that I was, I took the 
 wreath that I was weaving and stood by his side ; then 
 as he had said that he wanted flowers, I held his hand 
 and twined around it my pretty garland. 
 
 " ' These are beautiful flowers, Mr. Vernon,' I said 
 timidly, ' crimson, and yellow, and blue, and the leaves 
 are the brightest green I could find. It is I who am 
 giving them to you, little Sybil ; will you take them 
 and carry them to your home ?' 
 
 " ' God bless the child !' he said tenderly, ' so you 
 bring me flowers, Sybil, pure offering laid by pure heart 
 in the blind man's path. Will you come and live with 
 me, come and lead me into the sunshine sometimes and 
 let me hear the tones of your child-voice, Sybil ?' 
 
 " Foolish words I answered in return, but they could 
 not be recalled. 
 
 " ' Yes, I will come if grandmother does, for she has 
 often told me that in the great house beyond the hill 
 are birds, and books, and gems, and pictures, and golden 
 broideries fit for a queen. Can we go to-day, or to- 
 morrow, can we go now f 1 I asked with childish eager- 
 ness. 
 
 " His hand dropped mine. ' Alas !' he said ' you are
 
 280 Vernon Grove. 
 
 not separate from the rest ; draperies and tinsel, broide- 
 ries and gold are the uppermost thoughts with one and 
 all of your sex ; nevertheless, Mrs. Gordon, come, and 
 bring the child ; you at least are an exception, and are 
 above being tempted with these.' 
 
 "Tlien he stooped as if to kiss me, but turned his IK ad 
 listlessly away, bade grandmother good-by, and calling 
 his servant, departed slowly through the twilight woods. 
 
 " You know that we went ; you know that we bade 
 farewell to our sweet cottage home, Mr. Vernon sending 
 for us in his grand coach, and that we exchanged our 
 simple life for his splendid home. You see how I grew 
 from a child to a woman, while he loved me as if I were 
 a sister; at least I thought so until to-day; you have 
 heard how grandmother gradually became imbecile 
 and helpless, and even has ceased to recognize her 
 grandchild, and yet that he provides for her com- 
 fort as if she were all in all to him ; that he let me 
 be of service to him sometimes, repaying him in a 
 small degree for all the care and expense that he has 
 lavished upon me. Then came his sister's visit with her 
 beautiful friend, who, I sometimes imagine, might have 
 made him think less of my simple rustic ways ; but that 
 may be a harsh judgment and I will take it back. Next, 
 my gay careless sojourn at Mr. Clayton's city home, 
 where everything was as bright and beautiful as a 
 dream ; and last, Albert Linwood's arrival. He, I must 
 tell you, is"Mr. Vemon's best friend, an artist just from 
 his studies in Europe, and a great favorite with all who 
 are acquainted with him. JTe, aunt," said Sybil blush- 
 ing, and determined to have no half-way confidence's, 
 but to tell the whole truth, " he loved me after he had
 
 Vernon Grove. 281 
 
 known me a little while, but spite of all that his friends 
 said in his favor, I could riot return his affection, though 
 his society always gave me pleasure. He. was so impor- 
 tunate, so determined to win my love, that one day I 
 told him that it must be a forbidden subject, because 
 the more I thought about it, the more I felt that we 
 could never be nearer than friends. This, I thought, 
 finally decided the matter, when Mrs. Clayton received 
 a letter from Mr. Vernon, counselling, advising, in fact 
 telling me in just so many words, that he would wish me 
 above all things to become Albert's wife ; and so pressed 
 hard on all sides, knowing Mr. Vernon's wish, and Al- 
 bert's worth, subject to Mrs. Clayton's constantly advo- 
 cating it, I forgot self entirely and promised to be his. 
 Just after I had yielded to the wishes of those around, 
 my life seemed to be one dark dreadful blank, but now 
 that he whom I loved so well has forsaken me, I seem 
 to turn to Albert as a last refuge, trusting in the end 
 that his devotion will make me, if not happy, content ; 
 for whom have I now to go to for protection and counsel 
 but you and him ?" 
 
 Sybil stopped for a moment in her narrative, and 
 seemed lost for awhile in deep thought, then her face 
 brightened, for in that brief space of reflection she ima- 
 gined that she had discovered the cause of Vernon's 
 course of conduct. 
 
 "There is one other thing, dear aunt Mary," she 
 continued, " which I forgot to tell you, and which may 
 serve to explain this dark mystery which surrounds me. 
 I met at Mrs. Clayton's another person a man of wealth 
 and position whom I was so unfortunate as to inspire 
 with love, too, but neither could I respond to his any
 
 282 Vernon Grove. 
 
 more than to Albert's mad worship, and so I had to 
 send him away unhappy and disappointed. The idea 
 came to me just now that Mr. Vernon had heard of 
 this, and that he would rather have me marry him than 
 Albert because his wealth and influence are very great ; 
 I thought, that provoked because I had refused so bril- 
 liant a lot, Mr. Vernon might impulsively have written 
 that dreadful note of banishment. But my judgment is 
 feeble, my brain throbbing, my ideas not clear to-day, 
 dear aunt, and now that you know all, tell me what you 
 think, and so ease my heart of its heavy load of wretch- 
 edness." 
 
 But no satisfactory judgment could her sympathising 
 friend form, even though Sybil had told her all, and 
 kissing her affectionately, and telling her with the ear- 
 nest trust which was a part of her life, " to be of good 
 cheer, for there was a silver lining to every cloud," she 
 led her to her little room and bade her good night, pro- 
 mising to consider what she had told her, and perhaps 
 on the morrow she might be able to arrive at something 
 like the truth. 
 
 ( The griefs of girlhood are very often magnified, and 
 sometimes from the lips of youth come passionate ex- 
 clamations which would seem to betoken utter misery, 
 while longing for death and vague thoughts of seclusion 
 for life, or a journey in disguise to some foreign coun- 
 try, are often a theme of meditation for those who are 
 suffering under imaginary or real slights and ill-treat- 
 ment. But Sybil was bowed by no imaginary grief. 
 Up to the time of her departure from Vernon Grove, 
 her life had been one pleasant dream, with scarcely a 
 ripple of sorrow to break upon its even tenor ; her trials
 
 Vernon Grove. 283 
 
 had not come to her by degrees, but had suddenly en- 
 veloped her in gloom ; and thus when she was left alone 
 in that unfamiliar chamber, with the drizzling rain beat- 
 ing against the window panes, she felt utterly forsaken ; 
 
 " the future stretched before her 
 
 All dark and barren as a rainy sea." 
 
 Even when her thoughts rested upon her aunt, she felt 
 as though she were no real refuge to her, since though 
 stfbng-minded and patient, tried by sorrow herself, and 
 submissive, her walk in life had been but an humble one, 
 and though it was no fault of hers, Sybil knew that she 
 could not appreciate her nicer feelings or sympathise 
 with the refined education and associations which had 
 been hers since she had found a home with one so fas- 
 tidious as Vernon. 
 
 Had she discovered anything wherewith to reproach 
 herself in that long and lonely vigil, she might have 
 gone to her accuser, and humbling herself before him, 
 have asked his forgiveness, but all was a blank save his 
 lettei', the words of which seemed burnt into her heart 
 and brain. 
 
 Ah, how weary she was with weeping; her head 
 throbbed wildly, and fever flowed with the blood in her 
 veins. The day had seemed to her longer than any 
 other in her life, because so comfortless and wretched. 
 Poor forsaken Sybil ; she sat by her window heedless 
 of the rain and damp air, and looked out into the night 
 to see if a single friendly star was in the heavens to 
 shine upon her with a cheering ray, but in vain did she 
 look for sympathy there, for the night was starless ; the 
 fitful waving of the trees and their grotesque grouping
 
 284 Vernon Grove. 
 
 frightened her, while a sudden gust of Avind and sleet 
 drove her with unfriendly violence away, aud she closed 
 the casement and her heart despairingly, while the last 
 gleam of hope of any external aid, to dull the point of 
 her sharp sorrow, died away. 
 
 " It cannot be wicked sometimes to wish to die," she 
 murmured, as she gazed vacantly at the fading embers 
 on the hearth, " if God has appointed a time for every 
 one to leave this world of bitterness for another, why 
 could not mine be this hour, this very instant? I 
 would gladly welcome death, if it were not impious to 
 pray for it, and how sweet would be the eternal calm of 
 the grave compared with a life of misery such as mine." 
 
 Then she whispered to herself the words of another, 
 which she in her careless happy life of the past had 
 often wondered at, so improbable did it seem that any 
 one should desire to leave this bright beautiful world 
 of sunshine, but now they came home especially to her 
 saddened heart. 
 
 " Take me, my mother Earth, to thy cold breast, 
 And fold me there in everlasting rest, 
 The long day is o'er ; 
 I'm weary, I would sleep, 
 But deep, deep, 
 Never to waken more." 
 
 Alas! for Sybil! alas! for us all! There are some 
 nights when we cannot sleep, when the overstrung 
 nerves refuse to be quieted and the anxious heart will 
 not be still, and the weeper watches drearily on. God 
 save us from many of these frightful vigils, God keep 
 us from the fierce agony of such sleepless hours! 

 
 Vernon Grove. 285 
 
 When such an experience comes to youth, as it did to 
 Sybil, it is unforgotten almost through a life time. The 
 cold night succeeded by the colder dawn found her still 
 weeping, and watching, and longing for rest, and 
 through all, came a cry wrung from her young heart, 
 with no answering voice to still it ''Alas ! what have 
 I done?"
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "The death-bed of the just- 
 Angels should paint it." 
 
 YOUNG'S Night Thoughts. 
 
 " When some beloved voice that was to you 
 Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, 
 And silence, against which you dare not cry, 
 Aches round you like a strong disease and new 
 What hope ? What help ?" 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 SYBIL'S change of destination determined Albert at 
 once to visit his friend, and feeling in the all-absorbing 
 passion which had now become a part of his existence, 
 that he had neglected one to w T hom he owed so much, 
 he hastened to Vernon Grove. He longed to impart to 
 him the joy that this new tie in his life occasioned, to 
 thank him for all that he had been to Sybil and all that 
 he had done for her, and to receive his congratulations 
 in person. 
 
 He was not so absorbed in himself as to fail to notice 
 the marked improvements which had taken place since 
 he had visited Vernon Grove, how it had entirely 
 changed its character, and from a fine country-s^nt 
 remarkable only for its beautiful scenery, wild and pic- 
 turesque in its nature, had become a highly ctdthrsted 
 domain, a fitting home for a man of tastes so refined and 
 cultivated as Vernon's. The soft fresh air of the coun-
 
 Vernon Grove. 287 
 
 try blew gently upon his brow ; the brilliant azure of 
 the skies, the quiet, interrupted only by the distant 
 lowing of cattle or the tinkling of the bells of browsing 
 sheep, the sense of perfect peace, all thrilled him as with 
 a magic influence, and touched him as no scene in nature 
 had ever done before ; he wondered from whence had 
 come that new life, that better appreciation of what was 
 lovely in the world, that perfection of existence, and 
 with a wild heart-throb his lips murmured " it is love 
 and Sybil" 
 
 His delicious reverie was interrupted by his arrival at 
 the door of the house, but no sooner had he entered, 
 than he perceived by the utter absence of the accustomed 
 ceremony and style which Vernon always maintained, 
 and by the hurrying tread of servants to and fro, that 
 Borne unusual event was disturbing the usual tranquillity 
 there. This was a true conclusion, for a stranger 
 always unexpected but ever to be looked for was 
 abiding there ; the spirit of death was silently and invisi- 
 bly waiting for its prey, and was hovering over its victim, 
 who, as far as a good life and an earnest longing for a 
 higher state of existence was concerned, was prepared 
 for its inevitable call. 
 
 Ever since Sybil's departure, Mrs. Gordon had con- 
 tinued the same, unconscious of the presence of others, 
 and imbecile to perfect childishness, but on the morning 
 of Linwood's arrival a change had taken place, for the 
 better, as regarded health, an unconcerned looker-on 
 might have said, but a return to consciousness, like the 
 bright flicker of a dying lamp, only showed those who 
 were interested in her that her last great change was 
 near, and that the bright intelligence which she evinced
 
 288 Vernon Grove. 
 
 was only an earnest of what her freed spirit would 
 quicken into when it left the feeble body of clay. 
 
 Her first act was to call repeatedly for Sybil, and Ver- 
 non, remembering his promise to her in case any change 
 should occur to her grandmother, forgot all the events 
 which preceded his sending her into banishment in the 
 presence of the great Master of events, and dispatched 
 his carriage for her at once to Mr. Clayton's, hoping that 
 it would still find Sybil there. All his injustice, his 
 ungenerous course of conduct suddenly became revealed 
 to him, and impatient and restless, trying to soothe the 
 dying woman and yet not knowing how to explain Sy- 
 bil's absence satisfactorily, his anxiety for a few hours 
 was punishment enough for his fault. 
 
 The sound of approaching wheels led him from Mrs. 
 Gordon's room to the entrance door, with a vague hope 
 that Sybil, had not obeyed his cruel mandate and had 
 returned to Vernon Grove, but instead of the expected 
 grandchild's arriving to shed peace around her relative's 
 dying bed, Albert entered, and with extended hand and 
 loving voice, greeted his friend. It was no time nor 
 hour for revenge or bitterness, and when Albert, with a 
 tremor of joy in his tone, and a beating heart, began to 
 tell him his tale of happiness, instead of smiting him to 
 the ground as the evil part of his nature suggested, he 
 simply interrupted him by saying that he knew all from 
 Isabel's letter, and wished him every possible happiness, 
 then stating the case of the dying woman, he besought 
 Albert at once to return in the carriage which had con- 
 veyed him thither, and to bring Sybil to her grand- 
 mother. When Albert informed Vernon that only the 
 day before she had gone to her aunt's, as he thought
 
 Vernon Grove. 289 
 
 depressed and sad, and that the rain had poured in tor- 
 rents during her lonely drive, Vernon shuddered to 
 think that he had caused her the suffering which she had 
 so plainly exhibited, and hurried Albert off to expedite 
 her return to her old home. 
 
 Not long after Sybil's humble noon-day meal, a vehi- 
 cle drove up to her aunt's door, and Albert Limvood 
 alighted. Sybil knew at once from his sad and subdued 
 expression that he was the bearer of evil tidings, and 
 importuned him to tell her at once if he were the mes- 
 senger of any ill news, and in obedience to Vernon's 
 injunctions to delay not an instant upon his errand, he 
 acquainted Sybil at once with the truth. No burst of 
 useless anguish overcame her, no wringing of hands and 
 sobs of despair, for in the school of sorrow through 
 which she had so lately passed she had learned something 
 of self-command ; but with a terrible sinking of the 
 heart and with trembling hands she made her prepara- 
 tions for departure, blaming herself the while in her 
 silent sorrow for having ever deserted that bed of loneli- 
 ness and sickness. Only once did Linwood see that 
 calm settled look of despair alter in its stony expression, 
 and this was as she turned to bid her aunt farewell. 
 Throwing herself passionately into her arms, she kissed 
 her lips, her silvered hair, her placid brow, as though 
 she were parting from her only friend, and sobbed out 
 her thanks as she embraced her, while the kind old lady, 
 wiping her own fast flowing tears away, bade her 
 remember that the cottage was now her home, the little 
 attic-room her own, and the white-curtained bed, come 
 weal, come woe, especially reserved for the dear child who 
 had entered like a gleam of sunshine into her lonely home. 
 13
 
 290 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Sybil could only look her gratitude for this renewed 
 kindness, but Albert with many eloquent words thanked 
 their generous hostess, and with a glance of pride at 
 Sybil, bade her remember that he had a claim upon her 
 likewise, and that at some future time not far distant, he 
 hoped to reciprocate her hospitality by offering to her a 
 home with them. 
 
 The old despairing look came back to Sybil; a sudden 
 shudder seized her upon hearing Linwood's words, and 
 uttering an impatient " come," she sprang into the car- 
 riage and they were soon speeding swiftly on their way. 
 Sybil was silent during the ride, tormenting herself with 
 new reproaches and grateful, oh, how grateful, to Vernon 
 for allowing her the privilege of returning to give one look 
 to that beloved face which had watched her from her cra- 
 dle to womanhood ; and yet she almost shrunk from the 
 ordeal which awaited her. She had never seen death, she 
 had read of it only, either as surrounded with horrors or as 
 an event which was a swift and beautiful transition from 
 earth to a higher life, where a corpse was bedecked with 
 flowers or drooping willows hung poetically over a fresh- 
 made grave, but in her conception of it there was 
 nothing real. What she had heard and read seemed to 
 her afar off, like the memory of a dream, but now, here 
 it was close at hand; the rigid form, the icy brow, 
 the stiff unanswering lips, the unyielding fingers, and 
 she sank back in the carriage and covered her eyes as 
 though to shut out from view the image that still pur- 
 sued her, and which no effort of hers could banish. 
 Albert, after attempting to engage her in conversation 
 in order to turn her thoughts from painful subjects, and 
 failing in his efforts, left her to herself, and Sybil appre-
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 291 
 
 ciated his delicacy in conjecturing that in an hour like 
 that, words had no comforting power, but he could not 
 refrain from occasionally taking her hand and pressing it 
 tenderly, or whispering a single word of endearment, 
 which she, however, scarcely heard, since there seemed 
 only one bitter thought left her, one overmastering sen- 
 sation, involved in a little sentence, the presence of death 
 in the household. 
 
 At last the carriage stopped and she was at home 
 yes, she thought, spite of all, it was still her home, and 
 the journey to it, that drive which seemed to her to have 
 extended over numberless days, was at last at an end, 
 and the hallowed spot was reached. How her heart 
 yearned towards each familiar object, how even through 
 eyes now fast filling with tears shr noted the growth of 
 her favorite plants, the delicate blossoms of the fruit 
 trees which she had left with bare, craggy branches, the 
 fresher look of the rain-brightened verdure. She scarcely 
 availed herself of Albert's proffered assistance, but spring- 
 ing lightly to the ground, hurriedly replied to the ser- 
 vants' words of welcome, rushed by them, passed the long 
 corridor, up the wide flight of steps, and then with 
 noiseless, but swift footsteps, entered that dim and silent 
 room of death. 
 
 It needed not her voice in its cry of despair as she 
 knelt by the couch, to tell at least one of the inmates of 
 the apartment of her return, for Vernon had recognized 
 her first foot-fall on the stairs, his heart beating tumultu- 
 ously as she approached nearer and nearer to his 
 presence. 
 
 That absence of two long months was ended ! For a 
 moment he forgot that she was another's and remenr
 
 292 Vernon Grove. 
 
 bered her only as his little Sybil whom he had been 
 expecting so long and so fondly, and an impulse to fold 
 her to his heart was too soon dispelled by the memory 
 that she was lost to him for ever. 
 
 It was a scene that Sybil never forgot. There lay the 
 dying woman gasping her name, while Vernon leaned 
 over her whispering what words of comfort his lips 
 could frame. Even hi the very presence of death she 
 felt a quiet satisfaction in thinking that they were at least 
 still bound together by friendship, and that the doom of 
 banishment and estrangement extended not to her. 
 
 " Grandmother, look at me," she cried, sinking down 
 upon her knees by the bedside, "forgive me for the 
 wrong that I did in leaving you ; ah, you know not 
 what I suffer." 
 
 The glazed eyes turned lovingly upon the pleading 
 suppliant, and a smile lit up the pale face lying there 
 which was more potent than many words. 
 
 " Could you only be spared a little longer," said the 
 sobbing girl, " I would show you how much I love you, 
 I who left you so desolate and ill." 
 
 " He has been very kind to me," gasped out the dying 
 woman, pointing to Vernon, who could not withdraw 
 himself from the room, though he felt that perhaps that 
 parting hour should be sacred to the dying woman and 
 her orphan child. 
 
 Sybil drew nearer to him and laid her wet cheek upon 
 his hand. 
 
 " I knew he would," she said softly, " I trusted you 
 with him because I was sure of his kindness and 
 faithfulness." 
 
 An act so full of confidence and words so sweet and
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 2 93 
 
 forgiving brought a conscious blush, of guilt to Vernon's 
 face. 
 
 " Have I been kind and faithful to you, beloved child," 
 he whispered, bending over her ; " have I not rather 
 proved myself faithless and not worth trusting at all ?" 
 
 " You did not mean to do that? she answered, press- 
 ing the soft velvet of her cheek still more closely to his 
 hand, "it was a mistake, some one misled you. Ah, 
 there is no home like this ; no hand so fit to guide me 
 as this ; you will not send me away from you again, dear 
 Mr. Vernon, promise me that you will not." 
 
 Her gentleness, her sweet call for protection, her 
 dependence upon him, thawed his cold nature, and 
 opened his heart to her once more. He drew her head 
 upon his breast, and it rested there for a brief moment, 
 and could he have seen those eyes bent upon him with 
 an inexpressible tenderness, he would have blamed him- 
 self still more for every tear that he had caused her to 
 shed. 
 
 " Sybil," he said earnestly, " forgive me for what I 
 have done ; the demon of passion maddened me when I 
 wrote those words, and triumphed ; that demon which 
 you alone can quell ; but I am calmer, better now, and 
 I promise, so help me God, if you can trust to the pro- 
 mises of one so unworthy as I, to keep you here with me 
 as long as you will stay, and not to have one thought of 
 you which does not relate to your welfare, ay, even after 
 Albert himself comes and takes you away." 
 
 Sybil started at his closing words, and then crept still 
 closer to him as though he could shield her even then 
 from that dreaded event. 
 
 " And will you promise me, too," she asked, " to tell
 
 294 Vernon Grove. 
 
 me some other time than this, what bitter wrong I did 
 you which led you to banish me for ever from your 
 presence ?" 
 
 " It was no wrong, dear Sybil, or if there were any, 
 it was all on my side. No, I can never disclose to you 
 my reason for that insane act there are some things in 
 life which must remain secret between man and his 
 Maker, some emotions which only He must behold. 
 There was a struggle, but its nature you must never know 
 all that can be said of it now, is, that it has passed, 
 and that we, you and I, my precious one, are not to be 
 parted, save with your own consent again." 
 
 Sybil drew a long free breath ; she was satisfied ; and 
 those words exchanged in whispers, at that bed of death, 
 were necessary to make them friends again. Mrs. Gor- 
 don seemed to be overcome with stupor during their 
 short dialogue, but suddenly starting up she spoke her 
 last earthly words. 
 
 " Sybil, my love, give me your hand, and now, Richard 
 Vernon, yours. I thank you for all your kindness to 
 your dear mother's friend ; in that mother's presence I 
 shall soon appear, leaving my orphan child to your 
 care. Promise me, with her hand in yours, that you 
 will be to her henceforth as you have ever been, her 
 father, brother, friend, for she has only you in the wide 
 world." 
 
 " Shall I tell her that you have another, Sybil, far 
 dearer, far more worthy than I, to guide you through 
 its perils and trials." 
 
 " Oh, no, no," answered Sybil, burying her face in her 
 hands, " not now, let her die thinking" 
 
 " Thinking what, Sybil ? Speak ; her breath grows
 
 Vernon Grove. 295 
 
 fainter each moment ; let her depart with what comfort 
 you can give her." 
 
 " That I have but you," she answered, "any other 
 knowledge would only disturb her now." 
 
 " So be it," said Vernon, grasping her hand more 
 tightly, while a holy joy shone in his face, and upon 
 them as they were clasped, Vernon's hand and Sybil's, 
 Mrs. Gordon laid her own, breathed a blessing on them 
 both and expired. 
 
 Vernon placed Sybil, whose strength had now well 
 nigh failed her, in a chair, and calling one of the ser- 
 vants who was awaiting a summons, bade him tell Albert 
 that he was wanted. 
 
 " It is all over now, my friend," he said, as Linwood 
 hastened to him, " and Sybil needs your most tender and 
 watchful care, for the blow, though long delayed, has 
 prostrated her even more than I expected. Go in and 
 see her, she had better not be left to herself just now." 
 
 Albert entered the room and strove to arouse Sybil 
 from the unnatural and apathetic state in which he found 
 her, but she prayed so earnestly that she might be alone, 
 that in obedience to her wish he led her to her own 
 apartment, and left her to the solitude which she so much 
 desired. Sybil loved her room with an almost childish 
 fondness, its four walls enclosed an atmosphere which 
 breathed of content and quiet joy, how far soever she 
 wandered from it, she felt that her spirit still lingered 
 within it, and her thoughts turned towards it as the 
 Persian worshipper turns his eyes towards the sun. She 
 had built an invisible shrine there whereon were laid her 
 hopes, her aspirations, her prayers from her childhood, 
 and it was with emotions of deep gratitude that she felt
 
 296 Vernon Grove. 
 
 that she was to behold it once more, to take her old ac- 
 customed seat by her " landscape window," in her own 
 comfortable yet not luxurious chair, and to lose in for- 
 getfulness, on her own familiar couch, the memory of her 
 trials and sorrows. 
 
 But all was changed there ; too bright, too beautiful 
 was it for her crushed and broken spirit, and she scarcely 
 recognized it as her own chamber, where she had spent 
 so many happy hours in the past. One thing, however, 
 seemed familiar to her, that luminous, peace-shedding 
 picture of Evening, whose calming power once inter- 
 penetrated her very soul, but before which she now 
 closed her eyes, so intimately did it connect her with the 
 artist who had painted it and to whom she was bound 
 by a chain which galled her daily more and more, and 
 which she felt, if it were not for Vernon's sake, reckless 
 of all that followed, she must sever in twain. 
 
 " Not for me," she said to herself, " can be those rich 
 hangings, this soft pliant carpet, these magnificent mir- 
 rors, for I was sent away in disgrace, and Mr. Vernon 
 must have fitted up my room for another," and deter- 
 mined to end her suspense, and to check the bewildered 
 state of her mind, she rang the bell, and the house- 
 keeper appeared in answer to her summons. To her 
 kind sympathising glance, and offers of assistance, Sybil 
 replied that she needed her not, except to ask her if she 
 were right in coming to that room, where all was so 
 new and strange, so elegant and tasteful, and if there 
 was another fitted up for her, if she could be shown to 
 it at once, and also if she would tell her when the lady 
 was coming (she thought of Florence and how well it 
 would suit her) who was to occupy that.
 
 Vernon Grove. 297 
 
 "It is for no one but yourself, dear Miss Sybil," 
 answered the woman, " and it is pleasant to think of 
 the praise you give it. I told Mr. Vernon how pleased 
 you would be, and if you are satisfied we are thanked 
 enough for our trouble. It would have done your 
 heart good to see Mr. Vernon toiling and working to 
 have all things in readiness for you ; how he came up 
 three or four times a day to ask all sorts of questions, 
 how he had that little worktable moved again and 
 again, until it suited him, and that new picture, which 
 came when you were away, changed from its place time 
 after time, until he was sure, by what I told him, that 
 the light struck upon it in a way that you would like. 
 Then he worried himself more than such matters are 
 worth, to know if the counterpane suited the curtains, 
 and if every speck of dust was brushed from those 
 curious mantel ornaments, and the swinging mirror 
 hung just to suit your height. Ah, Miss Sybil, if you 
 could have seen it all, you would not ask if he meant it 
 for any one else, for no one would be so welcome here 
 as yourself." 
 
 Sybil drew a long sigh of relief. 
 
 "Thank you, thank you, Mary," she said, "it is 
 indeed beautiful, almost too beautiful, and Mr. Vernon 
 has been very kind. You may go now, and some other 
 time you must come and hear me praise, separately, all 
 your nice arrangements." 
 
 Then Sybil prepared for sleep almost calmly ; true, 
 her grandmother lay dead in the house, but she had 
 been called to her last long rest, after a life of goodness 
 and usefulness, and since her late years had been so 
 unprofitable to herself, it was her great gain to wake up 
 13*
 
 298 Vernon Grove. 
 
 upon another life where she was sure of an active parti- 
 cipation in the duties of the blessed sphere to which she 
 had been removed. This reflection was certainly most 
 tranquillizing, but her pleasure in the thought that her 
 mind was more serene than it had been for several days, 
 lay in the fact that she was not forsaken by Vernon ; on 
 the contrary, that she was the object of his especial 
 care. She was somewhat perplexed by the mystery 
 which she could not solve of those words of banishment 
 which she knew that he had written with his own hand, 
 but what mattered they, since he had recalled her and 
 had so humbly asked her forgiveness ! 
 
 Sweet was her sleep, sweet her innocent dreams, for 
 even in her unconsciousness she felt that he loved and 
 cared for her still. 
 
 After Albert had conducted Sybil to her room, he 
 returned to Vernon, glad of an opportunity to pour out 
 to him his thanks for all his kindness and consideration 
 in allowing him to speak a few words to his betrothed, 
 in fact for all that he had done for them both in a long 
 series of unfailing kindnesses. 
 
 " As her protector, yours was the right to yield her 
 up into my care, dear friend," he said, " and while I live 
 I can never forget what you have done for us mutually. 
 You have made her what she is, moulding her character 
 by your watchful care to its present perfection, cultiva- 
 ting her mind until you have rendered her almost your 
 equal in intellect, and helping her to develop those fas- 
 cinating graces which charm every one who approaches 
 within her sphere. Be assured, dear Vernon, that Sybil 
 and I will ever make your welfare our daily prayer." 
 
 Vernon's heart seemed to him to be turned to stone;
 
 Vernon Grove. 299 
 
 he could have said words blasting the man who told him 
 so confidently that he would bear Sybil Gray away 
 from his home and care ; he could have uttered curses 
 upon his head, or have struck him dead with a look, but 
 the memory of that little hand which he had clasped 
 within his own so lately, and of that fair innocent head 
 which had been pillowed upon his breast, restrained 
 him, and though he could not answer this burst of grati- 
 tude with any gratulatory words, he was at least silent, 
 and that was a gain for his rebellious heart. 
 
 Passing on to the solitude of his own apartment, he 
 closed the door and locked it against intrusion, and then 
 throwing himself upon his knees, prayed as she had 
 taught him. What words were then addressed to an 
 all-pitying God, man may never know ; what agony was 
 his, what temptation, what struggle, what triumph at 
 last ; but this we may know, that to the grave of his 
 aged friend he went the next day with a changed nature, 
 purified from many of its stains, girded with strong 
 resolves, and bent upon making a final conquest of self. 
 The good seed sown by the patient child who had 
 guided him in his blindness, had sprung up into growth, 
 and the harvest was abundant and blessed.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " Ilis love is hidden, like the springs 
 Which lie in earth's deep heart below, 
 And murmur there a thousand things 
 Wliicli nought above may hear or know. 
 'Tis hid, not buried ! Without sound, 
 Or light or limit, night and day, 
 It (like the dark springs underground), 
 Runs, ebbs not, and can ne'er decay." 
 
 BARBY CORN WALL. 
 
 THE burial was over, the grave had received its o\v7i, 
 and still Sybil mourned. Those who watched and 
 were interested in her, could not fathom the cause 
 of her deep and almost increasing sorrow, and many 
 a pitying glance rested upon her now. She had ex- 
 changed the tasteful dresses, in which Isabel had de- 
 lighted in arraying her, for the sombre habiliments of 
 mourning, and never had her beauty, though more 
 ethereal than formerly, appeared to such advantage. 
 She was paler than usual, her form had lost much of its 
 roundness, and her eyes seldom had any other expres- 
 sion besides one of deep seriousness. 
 
 Insensibly she had taken her accustomed place in the 
 household, the servants coming to her for counsel and 
 assistance, and apparently, the inner lives of the trio 
 who dwelt at Vernon Grove, were as peaceful and sys- 
 tematic as the outer arrangements, and a looker-on
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 301 
 
 would have thought that Sybil, especially, was a happy 
 person to have found such a friend as Vernon, and such 
 a man as Albert Linwood to be her protector through 
 life. 
 
 But no one knew the secrets of that young heart, no 
 one knew of the struggle that she hourly underwent. 
 Each day she felt that Albert was not to her what she 
 desired in one who was to be her companion nearer 
 than a friend, whom she was to cherish for better or 
 worse, and though she could not define in what particu- 
 lar lay the deficiency, and blamed herself for her want 
 of appreciation, still she could not overcome the inde- 
 finable repugnance that he inspired, and which she felt 
 was undermining her very existence. True, his tender- 
 ness was almost womanly ; true he guarded her against 
 the shadow of an evil, and loved on madly and blindly, 
 content with a cold " I thank you," or a barely suffered 
 caress ; still Sybil grew each day more unhappy and 
 silent, and the glad promise of her youth, the blessing 
 of a cheerful spirit, seemed departing from her. 
 
 The one object in her life, and that in which she 
 exerted every power, was to try to hide, at least from 
 Vernon, what she suffered, and even though she failed, 
 to accept the lot which he had marked out for her with 
 uncomplaining patience. Though he had never ex- 
 plained or alluded to his conduct in regard to the brief 
 note which she had received from him when she was at 
 Mr. Clayton's, he had pressed her so earnestly to remain 
 under his roof until her marriage, or after, if Albert's 
 engagements permitted, that Sybil had almost forgotten 
 that terrible fiat of banishment, or remembered it only 
 as a painful dream. One thing besides her own iimne-
 
 302 Vernon Grove. 
 
 diate troubles gave her cause for weakness, and this 
 was a change which had come over Vernon since her 
 return ; he was no longer the Vernon of old, impetuous 
 and imperious, but gentler and more sad, avoiding the 
 presence of his guests, and never intruding upon them 
 unless in the civilities which his position of host entailed 
 upon him. He no linger enlivened their home circle by 
 his wonderful conversational powers, nor was his laugh 
 that winning contagious laugh, which bespoke a heart 
 at ease, overheard as Sybil had sometimes heard it 
 in the days that were past. Morning after morning, 
 after having been led to his favorite haunts by his ser- 
 vant, he spent long hours alone, and at twilight, that 
 hour which he and Sybil had ever enjoyed as the crown- 
 ing happiness of a happy day, instead of the brilliant 
 compositions which he used to improvise, he would 
 strike a few dirge-like notes upon his piano, and pour 
 out his soul in strains as touching and as sad as the 
 instrumental music which accompanied them. 
 
 " Short swallow-flights of song, that dip 
 Their wings in tears and skim away." 
 
 And such was the life at Vernon Grove, monotonous, 
 quiet, and too calm to be natural, for even Linwood's 
 voice was toned down to a whisper, and his cheerful 
 spirit imbibed somewhat of the prevailing solemnity 
 which he felt hung like a pall over them, and which was 
 not exactly the "jubilee" that Sybil had spoken of as 
 connected with his return from his wanderings abroad. 
 But an event soon occurred, materially changing the 
 state of things then existing at Vernon Grove. 
 
 One night after they had all retired to their rooms,
 
 Vernon Grove. 303 
 
 Albert and Vernon to rest, and Sybil, as was often the 
 case now, to the serious contemplation of her peculiar 
 position, seated by an open window, she perceived a 
 dense smoke arising from the wing of the house in 
 which Richard and Linwood slept, and soon the convic- 
 tion forced itself upon her that the building was on fire. 
 Suddenly, as if to confirm her in her opinion, a bright 
 flame shot upwards in the darkness, and Sybil, now fully 
 aware of the danger, and with but one impulse in her 
 mind, rushed towards Vernon's chamber. That she was 
 the betrothed of another, that her duty should have led 
 her first to the rescue of her promised husband did not 
 occur to her ; she simply obeyed the promptings of that 
 strong inward suggestion which overmastered every 
 other, and which said as plainly as words, "lie, Mr. 
 Vernon is in danger ; save him." Everything was 
 blank ; her world contained but one individual ; her 
 heart beat but for one other besides herself; the prayer 
 which escaped from her trembling lips breathed only for 
 the welfare of one. 
 
 Speeding across the corridor, towards Vernon's room, 
 she found that her passage to it was impeded by a cloud 
 of smoke, and the heat was so intense that it would be 
 almost impossible for her to pass through it ; but Sybil 
 was a courageous mortal, and since she had given up 
 her happiness because Vernon had willed it, it mattered 
 little to her whether she sacrificed her life also. For 
 a moment she stood, irresolute ; simply the yielding 
 up of her existence for the welfare of one whom she 
 loved was an easy matter to her, but the probable suf- 
 fering which would lead to it, the sharp agony of the 
 intense scorching heat, the stifling suffocation, appalled
 
 304 Vernon Grove. 
 
 her. The wavering only lasted for a brief time ; draw- 
 ing a shawl which she had thrown over her shoulders 
 more closely about her, and covering as much of her 
 head and face as was possible, she uttered a hasty prayer, 
 and plunging boldly into the thickening smoke, at last 
 reached Vernon's door. With a firm hand she knocked 
 to awaken him, and told him in a few words, that the 
 house was on fire, beseeching him to open his door as 
 soon as possible, in order that they might think of some 
 plan to gain assistance ; she added that she could not 
 retrace her steps, as the flames had crossed the corridor, 
 through which she had just passed, but that she would 
 wait patiently there until he opened the door. 
 
 Light and darkness being the same to Vernon, he 
 hastily dressed himself, and was soon ready to admit 
 Sybil, and to hear further of the progress of the fire, 
 but in the meantime the poor girl had suffered agony, 
 for the flames gained upon her each moment, and her 
 hands and arms seemed seared as with a hot iron. Her 
 waiting there appeared to her like an eternity, and she 
 thought of rushing back even through the flames, any- 
 thing seeming preferable to the fearful misery of being 
 slowly burnt to death where she stood ; but at length 
 the door opened, and she sprang into the room with a 
 glad cry of unspeakable joy, while Vernon, feeling the 
 intense heat, knew in part, but only in part, what she 
 had suffered. 
 
 " You must shut the door again," said she, quickly, 
 " or the draught will force the flames this way. God 
 has been very good to you and to me, Mr. Vernon ; if 
 I had been one moment later I could not have come to 
 you, and what might you not have suffered ; perhaps in
 
 Vernon Grove. 305 
 
 your unconscious slumber you would have been burned 
 to death." 
 
 " I feel that you have saved my life, dear Sybil," he 
 answered, "that life which I would willingly lay down 
 for you, my child; but this is no time for thanks or 
 congratulation ; where is Albert ? You have aroused 
 him, of course, and have warned- him of his danger. 
 
 "No," said Sybil, in a low tone, "I came here first, I 
 did not think of him." 
 
 A steady pulsation of joy, even in that moment of 
 peril, throbbed in Vernon's heart, but duty was stronger 
 even than the love which he felt for Sybil. His first 
 impulse was to ask her to say those words once more, 
 those sweet, low, musical words which seemed to give 
 him the chief place in her memory ; but in an instant he 
 remembered how natural it was that Sybil should 
 endeavor to arouse him, the master of the house, first ; 
 how habit had taught her, since her childhood, to refer 
 everything to him which related to the judgment or a 
 course of action to be pursued ; and again, how custom 
 had always led her to offer him her arm as a guide. 
 
 "Sybil, we must remain here no longer," he said, 
 "I hear the flames roaring without, and human lives 
 are in jeopardy. There is another entrance to my 
 chamber which leads out upon the lawn. Through that 
 passage we must go ; then there is a second flight of 
 steps which will conduct you from the basement up into 
 Albert's room ; when we have reached that, you must 
 be a heroine once more, awake him, if he is not, as I 
 suppose, already aroused by the light, and the unusual 
 sounds, and in search of his treasure whom he will find 
 flown away." .
 
 306 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "And leave you in your blindness alone!" said Sybil 
 in a passionate tone unusual to her; "how do I know 
 but the flames may reach you even at the foot of 
 the staircase before I return. No ; better let me die, 
 leave me here and let me die before you send me away 
 from you again." 
 
 "Hush, Sybil," he said, "be calm!" 
 
 They were passing down the narrow passage, Sybil 
 guiding him out into the starlight, and as they neared 
 the entrance the damp night air came gratefully to 
 Vernon in contrast with that hot stifling mass of heated 
 smoke, but Sybil scarcely knew or felt the change. 
 
 " Why must I be silent ?" she said in the same reckless 
 impulsive tone; "do you wish to make me remember 
 what I cannot very easily forget, that my life belongs to 
 another, that I am bound even as a slave ? But I will 
 not be silent ; I will say now what I have not dared to 
 say before" 
 
 The sentence was finished with a groan, and Vernon 
 knew by the dead heavy weight that fell against him 
 that Sybil had fainted, and her strange words he con- 
 cluded were nothing more than delirium occasioned by 
 the excitement through which she had passed, the 
 bewildering experiences of the hour. 
 
 They had reached the foot of the steps, and the way 
 was free from impediments to him now ; he knew that he 
 was upon that green soft sward, and every inch of it was 
 familiar to him, and that he had only to proceed forward 
 a few paces to gain a garden chair in which to place her. 
 
 It was clear to him that Sybil had fainted, and he 
 judged rightly, but he little dreamed that it was from 
 pain ; that her delicate hands and arms had been scorched
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 37 
 
 and blistered by the fierce heat as she stood waiting at 
 his door. He only knew that his beloved was in his 
 arms once more ; that he held her there for the last time 
 ere another claimed her for his own; that her breath 
 was upon his cheek, and her heart near his. All the evils 
 in the world seemed light while thus she lay. Even God 
 would forgive him, he said to himself, for calling her his 
 own then, and bending over her insensible form, he 
 addressed her in many a name of endearment, and with 
 a reckless kind of frenzy, he kissed her brow, her cheeks, 
 her lips, and called heaven to witness that he loved her 
 as never man had loved before. 
 
 Soon he became conscious of approaching footsteps 
 and voices, and among the rest Albert's. 
 
 " God of mercy," exclaimed Albert, " we have found 
 her at last ; speak, Vernon, tell me that she is not dead 
 or dying that she lies thus." 
 
 " I trust not," said Vernon, trying to be calm, and 
 resigning her to Albert with a sigh ; " in order to rouse 
 some one, for I believe that she was the first to discover 
 that the house was on fire, she came to my room, and 
 the confusion, the responsibility, the fright, proved too 
 much for her, and caused her to faint. She has been in 
 this unconscious state once before to my own knowledge, 
 and it will be sometime before she recovers." 
 
 " Thank God !" said Albert, as he bent over her, 
 " thank God that it is not death ;" then folding her in his 
 arms, he tried to wake her to consciousness with burning 
 accents of love. 
 
 The old demon of passion pulled hard at Vernon's 
 heart. Linwood's words maddened him, and the deso-
 
 308 Vernon Grove. 
 
 lating fearful scourge of jealousy raged furiously in his 
 breast. 
 
 " What of the fire ?" he asked impatiently, " leave 
 her to me, Albert, and follow the men who have gone 
 to try to extinguish it. As I can be of no use, I will 
 sit here with her until she recovers, while you can 
 direct the hands, and if possible save a portion of the 
 house." 
 
 "The right wing of the building," returned Albert, 
 " I fear must be consumed; I left a portion of the laborers 
 trying to extinguish the flames on the other side, while I 
 brought a few this way in my search for Sybil, whom 
 the servants and I failed to discover in any portion of 
 the house, although we concluded in the end that as both 
 your and her rooms were vacant, you had sought shelter 
 where we found you at last. As you suggest, I will go 
 and try to give some system and order to their endeavors, 
 but even with their best exertions, I fear the house will 
 not be habitable for some time, and to prepare you for 
 the worst, Vernon, it may, possibly, if the wind rises, 
 burn to the ground, and then what could we do with 
 Sybil where could we find the nearest shelter for her V" 
 
 "Leave that to me," said Vernon, "I have already 
 thought of a plan. I purchased the cottage in which she 
 lived formerly, not long ago, and it is in the care of a 
 trusty servant if you will remain here and do what you 
 can to assist those brave men, I will take her there, John 
 driving us hi the carriage. Save everything that you 
 can belonging to her, and tell Mary to follow after us in 
 your vehicle with every comfort which she thinks Sybil 
 may require, and if we start immediately, I hope the
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 39 
 
 poor child will open her eyes upon a more peaceful scene, 
 and one of a less exciting nature than this." 
 
 " Your plan is the best that could be imagined," was 
 Albert's answer. "Vernon," he continued solemnly, 
 taking his hand, "it is not for me to tell you, her 
 protector, her friend, the guardian of her childhood, the 
 faithful watcher of her maturer years, to shield her as 
 you would the best treasure in God's giving, but oh, my 
 friend, when I say to you be gentle with her gentle 
 nature, be patient with her in her helplessness, you will 
 realize how much, how entirely I love Sybil Gray." 
 
 And so it came to pass that Sybil, leaving the stately 
 mansion of Vernon Grove a mass of thick smoke and 
 desolating flame, was bound on a pilgrimage to that 
 humble homestead, the cottage in which she was born. 
 
 The rocking motion of the carriage and the current 
 of cool night air, soon restored her to consciousness, but 
 far better would it have been had she been insensible, for 
 she awoke to experience a burning fever in her veins and 
 a sensation as though liquid fire were playing over her 
 hands and arms. Though her gaze could not penetrate 
 through the thick darkness, she knew that her head was 
 pillowed upon a beating heart, and that an arm was 
 supporting her form. She knew that but one cared to 
 hold her there and thus, and but to one belonged the 
 privilege. 
 
 " Where are we going, Albert ?" she asked faintly, 
 " When will this dark mysterious ride come to an end ?" 
 
 "It is not Albert, it is I," said Vernon in a voice 
 trembling with emotion. " Albert is with the men trying 
 to extinguish the fire. Are you better, Sybil ? Are you 
 in any pain? Can you lie tranquilly until you have
 
 31 c Vernon Grove. 
 
 regained your strength, or until we reach the little 
 cottage Avhere you and your grandmother once lived ?" 
 
 "Awhile ago I did feel pain," she answered, "fierce, 
 intense, burning pain, for the flesh upon my hands and 
 anus is all scorched and shrivelled away; but it was in a 
 good, a righteous cause, and now there is no pain, for 
 you are safe, only a perfect, perfect rest." 
 
 Vernon thought that her mind was wandering still, 
 and realized the cause in the horrible truth that her 
 hands and arms were in the condition which she had 
 described, and the agony made her delirious. He 
 thought, too, that he might be cruelly bruising them by 
 the rough clasp of his own rude touch, and by a gentle 
 movement he released her in a measure from his sup- 
 porting arms. 
 
 " Are you tired of me," she asked reproachfully, " do 
 I weary you ? do you want to put me far away from 
 you still, needing as I do now, more than ever, a heart, 
 a home, a resting-place ?" 
 
 "Tired of you, little Sybil!" said Vernon in a tone of 
 the deepest tenderness and tempted almost beyond 
 endurance to tell her all; "tired of the light of my life, 
 my only hope and joy ? God knows that I never should 
 tire of you ; I am only wretched and forlorn, for soon 
 my Sybil will leave me, and my home lies in ruins behind 
 us. But what right have such as I," he asked bitterly, 
 "to Sybil or home ?" 
 
 " And is our beautiful house at the Grove a ruin, and 
 is this the reason why we are taking refuge at the cot- 
 tage, and shall you be poor now, Mr. Vernon, with no 
 home but that humble one ?" 
 
 "And what if it be so, what then?" asked Vernon
 
 Vernon Grove. 311 
 
 moodily. A sudden sharp pang of bodily agony elicited 
 a groan from Sybil ; the torture of those fearful burns 
 was almost more than she could bear ; then that sudden 
 anguish passed away somewhat, but not entirely, and 
 the paroxysm left her calmer when it was over, and she 
 gasped out a few hurried words. 
 
 " Soon some other time when this agony is less, I 
 have something to say to you, but not now." 
 
 "Is there anything that I can do for you, any evil 
 that I can avert ?" said Vernon anxiously, drawing her 
 tenderly towards him again, as though to protect her 
 even then, " tell me ; will you not let me help you with 
 my advice or sympathy ?" 
 
 The answer came in a way that he was all unprepared 
 for. 
 
 " Y~es, Richard." 
 
 The words were sloAvly and deliberately spoken, and 
 thrilled him through ; the tender tone brought the hot 
 blood to his cheek; he could not believe that he was 
 awake, but thought himself under the influence of a dream 
 and was silent. 
 
 Like a poverty-stricken man who has prayed for relief 
 and suddenly finds himself struck, bruised, and felled to 
 the ground with heavy showers of massive gold, so felt 
 Vernon ; the precious metal lay within his very grasp 
 and yet it was denied him to gather it. 
 
 " Ah, Sybil," said he, breaking the silence at last, " I 
 must do my duty by you though keen suffering to 
 myself be the penalty. Though you promised to call me 
 ' HichardJ when you returned, and though the sound is 
 sweeter than any that ever came to mortal ear, you must
 
 312 Vernon Grove. 
 
 do so no more now that you belong to another. If he 
 were here, Sybil, do you think that he would regard 
 with complacency or any approval whatever that word 
 spoken from your lips to me." 
 
 Recklessly came her reply, a mad whirlwind in con- 
 trast with his calm, deliberate, cautious utterance ; mad 
 enough, strong enough, to demolish any barrier between 
 them, powerful enough to bend, ay, to break even his 
 iron will. 
 
 " I know not, care not, Richard." 
 
 But he kept his vow: love and honor made him strong; 
 love for Sybil, whom he now scarcely regarded as a 
 responsible person, but as one tortured into delirium by 
 pain, and that strong chain of friendship by which he 
 was bound to Albert, and which, rather than sever, he 
 would have encountered death. Still something further 
 must be said, and that he spoke desperately. 
 
 "Sybil, Sybil, beware; you have redeemed your 
 promise given under other circumstances than these ; 
 but if you do not, Albert would care had he heard you 
 give utterance to the word which you used just now. 
 Think you, if you were to me what you are to him, 
 loving me and beloved by me, that I could calmly hear 
 you call him 'Albert?' Think you that I could spare a 
 tone, a whisper of tenderness ? Why, Sybil," he con- 
 tinued, eloquently pleading for another's right, and 
 advocating another's cause, " were you mine, think you 
 that I could bear you from my presence ? No, you would 
 be mine mine exclusively, my treasure, my joy, my 
 religion, my life, and next to the God whom you have 
 taught me to love, my all. It is thus with Albert, Ids
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 affection for you is as jealous, as requiring as this. Ah, 
 no, welcome as that word is, I must not hear it again ; 
 once, I might have wished it, but oh, not now, not now." 
 
 " Thank you for reminding me of my duty," answered 
 Sybil, with something of her old dignity of manner, 
 though in a bitter tone. " If I can, mark me, Mr. 
 Vernon, if T can, I will be to you what you would have 
 me, cold and distant," then withdrawing herself entirely 
 from his support, she uttered a piteous moan of exhaus- 
 tion and pain, and added in a voice of anguish that long 
 vibrated in Vernon's ear, "but you are too cruel, almost 
 too cruel to your poor little suffering Sybil." 
 
 These were the last coherent words that Sybil said for 
 some days, for when they lifted her from the carriage and 
 placed her on the bed where she once as a child lay, a 
 brain fever, added to the severe injuries she had sustained, 
 brought on a raving delirium, and the kind and skilful 
 physician who was sent for, plainly told Vernon, who 
 besought him to be candid, that he feared that all his 
 care and experience could not raise her from her des- 
 perate state to health. And then with as much delicacy 
 as he could, he informed Albert and himself that they 
 must be prepared to see her, whom they loved so well, the 
 victim of a painful and lingering death ; nevertheless, 
 while there was life, there was hope, and that much 
 depended upon unwearied attention to those dreadful 
 burns, and careful watching. 
 
 Careful watching ! the dove watches not her nestlings 
 so jealously, nor the mother her child more exclusively 
 than did those men, Vernon and Linwood, watch the 
 poor sufferer who raved in delirium in that little chamber, 
 not indeed in any words which could betray the secrets 
 14
 
 314 Vernon Grove. 
 
 of her heart, but as if the mention of her cottage-home 
 had brought back old memories in her unconsciousness, 
 she fancied herself a child once more, roaming in free- 
 dom there among the forest birds, and gathering wild 
 flowers in her path. Both were bound to her, Vernon 
 and Lin wood, by a triple cord, and all jealousy, all envy 
 were laid far away. Were she to die, Linwood felt that 
 the world would be suddenly deprived of all interest 
 and beauty; he dared not contemplate the possibility of 
 a future, even though it brought to him fame greater 
 than mortal had ever won before, without the light of 
 Sybil's smile. Sybil and Death ! It was madness to 
 breathe the two words in connexion. After a life spent 
 together, a life of perfect happiness and congeniality, he 
 could fancy her hand hi hand with himself, calmly jour- 
 neying onward to the grave, and should the summons 
 come to her first, being willing to part with her only 
 because it would be an earnest of his soon rejoining her 
 to part never more. 
 
 Sybil, dead! said Vernon in communion with himself, 
 in thoughts which he scarcely dared to breathe to the 
 winds, she who, to save him, had brought herself low 
 even unto the gates of death : she who had counted 
 suffering but a slight thing, so that he suffered not ! Oh, 
 were she to die, willingly would he make his grave beside 
 her, welcoming the pall, the bier, and even the dreaded 
 uncertainty of the hereafter, as a happy exchange for the 
 positive pangs of acute suffering which such an event 
 would bring. 
 
 JBut Sybil did not die ! Youth and strength triumphed 
 at last over that terrible attack, and she awoke to con- 
 sciousness. Xow that her fearful and incoherent ravings
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 were over, and all immediate danger past, the faithful 
 housekeeper, who had been devoted to her through her 
 illness, persuaded Vernon and Linwood to leave her 
 entirely to her care, as the excitement of seeing them 
 and conversing with them might occasion a relapse, and 
 as it was nearer to their precious charge than the cottage 
 sitting-room, they spent the greater part of their time in 
 the little entry which communicated with her room, 
 pacing to and fro, watching for the tidings which were 
 brought them at intervals of the welfare of the invalid, 
 and in arranging offerings of fruit and flowers or other 
 little gifts which they thought would amuse or interest 
 Sybil, the sending of which was accompanied always with 
 cheering messages of affection. 
 
 As Sybil became convalescent and once more was in- 
 terested in external objects, when the ticking of a clock 
 attracted her as something which broke the monotony 
 of that long season of confinement ; when a stray ray 
 of sunshine playing upon the wall assumed to her almost 
 the significance of the real presence of some cheerful 
 visitor ; and when even the reminiscences of her old 
 attendant, whose early years were anything but event- 
 ful, acquired a vast importance in her lonely patient's 
 estimation, it is not to be wondered at that she often 
 found herself trying to catch the tones of Vernon's and 
 Linwood's voices, or that it entertained her if she but 
 heard a word now and then from the little neighboring 
 entry. 
 
 One morning, one Spring-promising morning, her 
 attendant had purposely left the door which led from 
 Sybil's room into the passage open, in order to accus- 
 tom her somewhat to the fresh air ere she returned into
 
 316 Vernon Grove. 
 
 it, and leaving Sybil alone for a short time, went to 
 attend to some household arrangement. Lying there 
 feeling stronger and better than she had done for many 
 days, she heard the voices of her watchful guardians in 
 conversation, and though hearing her own name men- 
 tioned, and knowing that it was almost a breach of trust 
 to listen, still she had neither the strength nor the will 
 to let them know her proximity ; a kind of trance-like 
 spell enveloped her faculties and kept her mute. 
 
 But that hour achieved more for her than her physi- 
 cian's most devoted attention, and while she listened 
 with a smile upon her pale face, and her eyes bedewed 
 with grateful tears, it seemed to her as though some 
 heavenly visitor stood before her and softly whispered, 
 " Sybil, behold your reward." 
 
 " This is the third week that she has lain there," she 
 heard Albert say, " uncomplaining and gentle ; what 
 patient endurance is hers, what true Christian forbear- 
 ance." 
 
 "Yes," replied Vernon, "Sybil acts out her princi- 
 ples as one would have the truly religious do ; when one 
 thinks of the pain of a single trifling burn, and then 
 reflects on what she has to bear, that excruciating agony, 
 that tedious dressing of the wounds, that retaining for 
 hours the same position without a murmur of impa- 
 tience, one cannot but be struck with her fortitude. 
 Then add to these, that, through which, thank God, she 
 has already passed, the chill of ague, the burning thirst 
 of fever and its terrible restlessness, all borne as though 
 they were but a feather laid upon her, the life which 
 she has lived since that fearful night is a sermon preach- 
 ing better things than a thousand eloquent discourses."
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 317 
 
 "Hers is indeed a patient spirit," answered Albert, 
 " and it is with no little self-congratulation that I think 
 that she who is the fairest creation I have ever seen, 
 should also be the purest and best, and that the example 
 of the woman who is to be my life-companion must ever 
 be a gracious one to me. What an unenviable fate 
 would mine have been had I, with my love of the beau- 
 tiful, chosen a wife whose attractions were merely in 
 the outward adorning and not in the perfection of the 
 inner life." 
 
 "You are fortunate," replied Vernon, scarcely re- 
 pressing a sigh, " and when I resign her to you, it will 
 be with this testimony, that it was she who first planted 
 the germ of resignation and religious feeling in my 
 breast. Often the poor child has seen it wither and 
 fade, but by her prayers and tears has guarded and 
 watered it until it has grown into a wide-spreading 
 branch ; not that I boast of it, Linwood, for we are 
 talking now as man to man, with freedom and unreserve, 
 but because I rejoice that her prayers are answered, and 
 that she, with her innocent trust, has made me almost 
 what her aspirations have aimed at, one who humbly, 
 and with a need of His mercy, loves and fears God." 
 
 Sybil crossed her bruised hands upon her breast, and 
 raised her eyes upwards as though her glance could 
 pierce the inner heaven, and though feeling happier 
 than she had ever been on earth before, she longed at 
 that moment for the power to take wings and utter her 
 gratitude and delight for the words she had heard from 
 Yernon, at the very throne of the Almighty Father. 
 
 It was thus that her attendant found her on her 
 return with that rapt angelic look, so much more beau-
 
 318 Vernon Grove. 
 
 t if ul than ever, so luminous with purity and joy, and re- 
 membering that she had promised to allow Vernon and 
 Limvood to come in for a few minutes to see her young 
 charge, now was the time she thought, when a iiiint 
 color blushed in her cheeks, and her eyes glistened 
 almost with the brightness of health, to redeem that 
 promise. 
 
 Telling Sybil that her laithful friends desired to con- 
 gratulate her upon being so much better, she asked her 
 permission to allow them to enter. 
 
 " Yes," said she gladly, " let them come in ; how 
 faithful, how constant they have been." 
 
 " But only for a few minutes," said the careful nurse, 
 charging Sybil not to exert herself by conversation, and 
 with another look at her patient to see if the rosy flush 
 still remained, she went to acquaint Yernon and Lin- 
 wood with the joyful intelligence that her patient would 
 see them. 
 
 She was the Sybil, and yet not the Sybil that Lin- 
 wood had last seen ; the first was of earth, the other a 
 vision from heaven. 
 
 She was lying half-propped up by pillows, with her 
 face in full relief against their snowy whiteness ; her 
 brow was marble-like in its pallor, her lips like those of 
 a carved statue, not crimsoned as Sybil's had once been 
 with the rose-bud hue of health, but almost colorless, 
 while her cheeks were so faintly tinged with the rose 
 that one might have thought their blush a reflection of 
 the skies at dawn. Her hair, always floating in natural 
 curls on either side of her brow, was now put back from 
 her face in a smooth mass like a cluster of pale golden 
 threads, while over her bosom in graceful folds, lay her
 
 Vernon Grove. 319 
 
 white robe, with its delicate edging of lace, giving addi- 
 tional softness and purity to the whole. 
 
 Sybil was the first to speak. 
 
 "How good, how kind you have been," she said, 
 looking from one to the other with moistened eyes. 
 She glanced over at Linwood, but upon Vernon her 
 gaze rested with lingering fondness. 
 
 Led by the sound of her voice, Vernon stepped for- 
 ward to take her hand, the common, every-day act of 
 the blind man's life, something that stood in lieu of a 
 sympathising expression which others could throw into 
 their eyes. 
 
 Sybil stopped him as h'e approached. " You forget," 
 said she playfully, " that a burn is a long time in healing, 
 and no lily-white hand can I offer you as did the dames 
 in days of old. My faithful knights must live in hope 
 that one day I may fasten a favor on their shields, when 
 the bandages from my poor disfigured hands are 
 removed." 
 
 " Forgive me for my thoughtlessness," replied Vernon 
 while he turned away from Sybil that she might not see 
 on his face the anguish that he felt. " I forgot for one 
 moment that terrible experience in my joy at hearing 
 your voice again. Would to God, Sybil, that mine had 
 been the fate to perish that night in the flames if it 
 would have saved you from a single instant of suffering." 
 
 It was far from Sybil's thoughts to awaken any sad 
 memories, or to have that visit aught but a cheerful one, 
 and hasting to change the conversation, she dwelt upon 
 the pleasures which were in store for her, and listened 
 gladly to the plans which Albert and Vernon had been 
 laying for her, until the minutes allotted to them by the
 
 320 Vernon Grove. 
 
 nurse passed swiftly away, and she warned them that 
 the time had expired. While she was guiding Vernon 
 out into the passage, Sybil beheld with a terrible sinking 
 of the heart that Albert remained behind. 
 
 "Sybil, my own, my beautiful," he whispered, "I 
 thought I loved you once, but my love for you was weak 
 compared with the almost worship that I feel for you 
 now. Could you not speak one word of affection to be 
 to me a memory, a joy, until I see you again ?" 
 
 Her lips tried to articulate, but no word reached his 
 ear, while a spasm like that of pain crossed her face, and 
 her white lids closed helplessly over her eyes. 
 
 " You must go now, Mr. Linwood," said the affrighted 
 attendant, who glanced at Sybil as she returned, " am I 
 not right, Miss Sybil ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes," was the impatient answer, and when the 
 door was closed upon him, Sybil alarmed her nurse, who 
 had no key to her words, and thought that her delirium 
 was returning by her wild manner, and wilder expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " This cannot, shall not last," she said, " I must end 
 it, or I must die."
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " Farewell ; farewell ; may never come to thee 
 These bitter tears now sadly crushing me, 
 / give thee up, thy good requires my pain, 
 And thou shalt never hear from me again 
 Affection's words nor shall thy eyes e'er see 
 One look that speaks a lingering love for thee, 
 For I have given thee up." 
 
 " "Pis better to have loved and lost 
 Than never to have loved at all." 
 
 HEALTH came once more to Sybil, as the rosy dawn 
 overspreads the morning sky. First with a pale flush, 
 then a rosier gleam, and then a blushing red. She was 
 waiting for her full strength to perform a duty, the neg- 
 lecting of which haunted her like a nightmare, and which 
 she knew must not long be deferred, and at last she felt 
 that the hour had arrived. 
 
 Vernon spent most. of his time at the Grove, endea- 
 voring to lay plans to remedy the ruin which reigned 
 there, and it was well that he thus had an object to dis- 
 tract him from gloomy thought. He tried to cheat 
 himself into the idea that he was becoming more light- 
 hearted and cheerful, when in fact he was only endea- 
 voring, for the sake of those whom he loved, to cultivate 
 cheerfulness, and when he returned to the cottage at 
 evening, though a heavy and sad heart lay beneath, his 
 14*
 
 322 Vernon Grove. 
 
 was the merriest laugh, he the most buoyant of the trio 
 there. 
 
 One morning when Vernon had thus left Sybil and 
 Albert together, to enjoy, as he imagined, as fond lovers, 
 the sweet freshness of the day, the coming Spring time, 
 and the luxury of quiet interchange of thought, Sybil 
 proposed a drive through the beautiful woods which 
 surrounded the cottage as a sure means of entirely 
 restoring her to her wonted strength. She had not mis- 
 calculated the effect which she thought it would produce, 
 and it was after her return, when her limbs were stronger, 
 her blood bounding healthily through her veins, her heart, 
 even, braver for the fresh morning air, that she said to 
 herself " Now I will do what I must do, even though 
 to Albert I bring a sorrow incurable, and gain coldness 
 and disapproval and a second banishment at Mr. Ver- 
 non's hands, for I will not be false to myself and God 
 another day." 
 
 There were in the little cottage parlor Sybil and Al- 
 bert. The season was that of late Winter, when the mid- 
 day is a foretaste of Spring. The evergreen trellised 
 vine, which Sybil had trained as a child, hung through 
 the open casement into the room, and the sunbeams 
 flickered through the leaves and played lazily upon the 
 floor at Sybil's feet. The air brought with it a drowsy 
 influence unfitting one for action ; the birds hopped 
 noiselessly from branch to branch ; the cattle in the dis- 
 tance were passively lying in the fields ; everything 
 breathed of the fulness of rest. All nature seemed plot- 
 ting against Sybil and the Avork which she had to do. 
 In the still air, the cloudless sky, the silent earth, there 
 seemed to be a pause, but had an angel appeared beckon-
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 3 2 3 
 
 ing her out to wander in Paradise, she would have 
 said calmly " By-and-by ; now there is something for 
 me to do." 
 
 She sat in a low chair by the window with the dreamy 
 influence of that brilliant noon upon her, with no remains 
 of her illness lingering about her, save a faint scar upon 
 her hands, which she almost hoped for the sake of the 
 memory it brought would never entirely be efiaced. 
 Albert leant over her and was saying something play- 
 fully about her brilliant color, and how well it would 
 contrast one day, not far in the future, with white orange 
 blossoms. They looked happy lovers they were 
 what ? Their words will show. 
 
 She could not mistake his meaning, and with a start 
 woke into life. 
 
 " Sit down, Albert," she said, " here before me ; I have 
 something to say to you." 
 
 So seldom did Sybil express a wish in Linwood's pre- 
 sence, that ere it was well uttered, he dropt the ringlet 
 of gold which he had caressingly coiled around his finger 
 and obeyed her, and sitting full in the light of her eyes 
 awaited what would follow. Then she gazed quietly, 
 steadily, at him as though she would read his very soul 
 and measure what he could bear mentally, he who loved 
 her so. 
 
 Albert took her hand, while she scarcely observed the 
 action, so absorbed was she in thought, and pressed it to 
 his lips. 
 
 " Ah, this little hand," he said fondly, " this little 
 scarred hand ; tell me, Sybil, when shall I have the right 
 to call it my own ?" 
 
 Sybil, still gazing down into his eyes with that search-
 
 324 Vernon Grove. 
 
 ing glance so unlike every other glance of hers, which 
 had ever before been turned away from his, firmly drew 
 her hand away. 
 
 " Albert," she said, " you must bear patiently with 
 me, you must listen calmly to me. I am about to tell 
 you something which will make us both sorrowful all of 
 our lives, but not to say it would bring to me madness. 
 Promise me that you will not frighten me by any demon- 
 stration of violence, for I feel that undue excitement 
 might carry me back to those fearful hours of delirium 
 through which I have so lately passed." 
 
 " Anything that you have to say," he answered with 
 assumed calmness, " I am ready and willing to hear." 
 
 "Then I will say it at once," she replied, turning away 
 from him at last the fixed gaze of her eyes. " It would 
 be hypocrisy to act towards you any longer as if I did 
 or ever could love you. For Mr. Yemen's sake whose 
 wish it is, and for yours, I have tried with earnest pray- 
 ers to accustom myself to the idea that in you, I should 
 at last find that peace and happiness which one would 
 naturally expect, situated as we have been. I have 
 schooled my heart, I have put fetters on my free soul in 
 vain. That the fault is altogether independent of your- 
 self, that you are all tenderness and goodness, and that 
 I am ungrateful and wicked almost, I humbly confess ; 
 but why waste words upon the prelude ? Albeit Lin- 
 wood, I can never be your wife." 
 
 Linwood's face had gradually assumed an expression 
 of mute despair, and then when the whole truth came, 
 he bent his head slowly and held his hand before his eyes 
 as though to avert some horrible doom which would 
 crush him to death. He did not weep, he did not moan ;
 
 Vernon Grove. 325 
 
 Sybil would have been glad had he done either ; any- 
 thing was better than that deep dead silence, that up- 
 raised arm and deprecating look, the quivering which 
 passed over that strong man's frame. 
 
 " Albert," she said softly, removing his hand from that 
 fixed posture of despair and looking upon him pityingly, 
 "let me be to you a sister, a friend; speak to me; tell 
 me that what I have done has not made you hate me." 
 
 " Hate you /" he answered in a voice of unutterable 
 tenderness, "it would be hard to do that beloved." 
 Then changing his tone and looking at her fiercely, he 
 continued " And yet I ought to hate you ; I ought to 
 hate one who, by a few utterances, things called words 
 that have the power to blast a life for ever, has taken 
 away in an instant of time hope, joy, happiness, and left 
 me desolate, ay, desolate, Sybil, take it in its full wide 
 meaning and bring it home to yourself. Reverse the 
 case," he said, with increasing excitement, grasping her 
 wrist and compelling her to listen to him, " suppose that 
 you had learned to love some favored one with your 
 whole being, that never prayer was uttered by you 
 which included not that other, that you looked forward 
 to a life spent with him as a consummation of bliss not 
 ending here, but continuing on into eternity; then 
 imagine some terrible fate coming betweeti you and the 
 loved one, more terrible than if the man dying of thirst 
 should htf denied water, the weary man rest. Would 
 you not be tempted, mind you, only tempted, to curse 
 that fate ?" 
 
 " And so you curse me, Albert ?" she said mourn- 
 fully, ''pray rather for those who despitefully use you 
 and persecute you."
 
 326 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " Xo, no," said he, drawing her towards him with 
 inexpressible tenderness of manner, "how can I curse 
 what is mine, and you know that you are mine, Sybil, 
 now and for ever. There is no escape from a promise 
 given calmly and willingly as you gave yours. Sybil, I 
 cannot let you go, you are too precious, too much a part 
 of my very life ; yes, thank God, you are mine." 
 
 Alas for Sybil, her task became more difficult each 
 moment ; it was almost as hard to gain her end as to 
 live the false unnatural life of the past few months, but 
 she had plunged boldly into the stream, and nought 
 remained for her but to seek, with what strength she 
 could, the opposite shore. 
 
 "I know," she said, "I know that you have my 
 promise to be yours, and that you love me. It is 
 because you do love me so fervently that I make this 
 appeal to you. Oh, Albert, you would never be quite 
 happy, with your exacting nature, in a life without 
 affection on my part ; there would always be a cloud 
 over our home as if God had forgotten us in dealing out 
 his sunshine ; our mornings would be cheerless, our 
 evenings gloomy, because of the want of perfect sym- 
 pathy, and I feel, I feel in my inmost heart that ours 
 would not be the true life. There is a better, a happier 
 state of being, when the pnlses bound at the sound of a 
 beloved voice, when the blood runs swifter at the 
 approach of a coming step, when the heart, satisfied 
 with its destiny, says, ' I am content !' This could never 
 be our united experience," said Sybil, her cheek kind- 
 ling at the picture she had called up. " Then let me 
 appeal to the very love which you have for me, to 
 release me from the promise, Which I gave before I had
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 3 2 7 
 
 a realizing sense that I was acting out a grievous wrong, 
 a sin. Say but four words, Albert, four simple words 
 spoken because of your generous nature; if only 
 breathed in a whisper I shall hear them; say to me, 
 ' Sybil, you are free.' " 
 
 In the earnestness of her appeal, she arose and laid 
 her hand upon Albert's, while her beseeching eyes were 
 raised expectantly to his. She might have said as other 
 women had said before, after a solemn promise to be 
 constant, " Go," one word having the power and sig- 
 nificance of many, but the memory of perjury would 
 have haunted her through a lifetime. She wished him 
 to resign her by an act of his own will. 
 
 There was a pause a long, painful pause ; a mighty 
 struggle raged in Linwood's breast ; he felt like a ship- 
 wrecked mariner who sees that the frail plank to which 
 he clings must inevitably be swept from his grasp, and 
 yet with the certainty of his doom hanging over him, is 
 loath to loosen his frantic hold. 
 
 " Have patience with me, dearest," he said at last, 
 " you have appealed to my love, that strong, absorbing, 
 second nature of mine ; have patience with me awhile ; 
 I would be alone with my thoughts, and make the trial 
 in imagination, to see if I can do what you ask ; like the 
 martyrs of old, I would measure my strength of endur- 
 ance and consider if I could bear unflinchingly the cruel 
 tortures, the fierce devouring flames which assail me and 
 which at last must reach my heart." 
 
 Saying these words he put her away from him gently, 
 and paced the room restlessly, as though he were a 
 criminal pacing his narrow cell. His eyes rested upon 
 her not for a single instant, he seemed to be oblivious
 
 328 Vernon Grove. 
 
 to her presence ; his thoughts all introverted, himself 
 was the one subject of his contemplation. 
 
 At last there was a cessation in that quick nervous 
 tread and he stood before her and gazed at her long and 
 earnestly. His look was haggard, his whole expression 
 was changed, and years of suffering seemed to be 
 stamped upon his face. 
 
 " Sybil, look up," he said, " if upon the outer man is 
 pictured what I feel within, then there will be something 
 for you to remember in all the years of the future. 
 Not, dearest, that I would have the memory a suffer- 
 ing, a sorrow, but because I would have you feel that 
 it is no light thing to which you have appealed, no pass- 
 ing fancy, but a principle of my life mingling with my 
 being, as the heart throbs in my breast, or the blood 
 flows in my body ; had my love been less, had it been 
 selfish, did I not count myself as nothing in comparison 
 with your peace and happiness, this sacrifice would 
 never have been made, but since you wish it, dearest ; 
 Sybil, you are free /" 
 
 Her joy told itself in her suddenly clasped hands and 
 an inadvertent, "Oh! Albert, I thank you." 
 
 " She thanks me, oh, God !" he exclaimed bitterly, 
 " she thanks me, she might have spared me that." 
 
 " Forgive me," said Sybil, her eyes filling with tears, 
 " I only meant." 
 
 " You meant what you said," he answered mournfully, 
 " and I must not blame you for your truth ; but oh, my 
 beloved, my own precious one, my lost treasure, the 
 years will be very dreary to me now ; summer will 
 bring me no sunshine, winter no joyous fireside, time no 
 glad elastic renewal of youth. Stars will shine, but not
 
 Vernon Grove. 329 
 
 for me, Sybil, for you alone gave beauty to my life, and 
 you alone can take that beauty away. Remember me, 
 dearest, as ever thinking of you, ever praying for your 
 welfare, and so mingling your memory with each noble 
 inspiration, each successful effort, each triumph in my 
 profession, that my love of you and love of it will be 
 one and the same. Every blue sky will tell me of your 
 eyes, dearest, those tender soul-eyes that won me with 
 their wondrous beauty ; every golden sunset remind me 
 of your wealth of rippling hair ; every line of grace in 
 earth or air bring me in thought to you. Say to Ver- 
 non that I have gone, for I cannot see him with this 
 weight of anguish crushing me, gone for ever from him 
 and you. Yes, I must go," he answered in reply to her 
 appealing look, "for were I to stay, my eyes would 
 haunt you ever with their mute sorrow, while turning 
 upon you especially their old loving glance. And now, 
 Sybil, farewell ; if you ever think of me, if ever you say 
 to yourself ' Where is the wanderer now ?' imagine me 
 as toiling for fame, not for any joy it might bring me, 
 but simply as an object in life, something to sweeten a 
 bitter memory, something to blunt the sharp point of an 
 eternal agony. Seated there with your head bowed and 
 revelling perchance in your release like an uncaged 
 bird (I blame you not, dear love), you little know at 
 what a price you have bought your freedom ; behold in 
 it a crowning sacrifice of affection, the very perfection 
 of love, yes, Sybil, you are/ree." 
 
 Softly he raised her head and kissed her brow, and 
 smiling strangely that she wept, bade her not waste her 
 tears upon his sorrows then laying his hands linger-
 
 330 Vernon Grove. 
 
 ingly upon her fair drooping head, he looked once again 
 at her wondrous beauty, as though to impress it unfad- 
 ingly upon his memory, and departed from her path 
 for ever.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 "The banquet and the song; 
 By day the tourney, and by night 
 The merry dance traced far and light, 
 The masquers quaint, the pageant bright, 
 The revel loud and long." 
 
 " Rich ? ask'st those if he's rich ? Observe me. Sir 1 
 His money bags are torpid they're so full! 
 Crammed, glutton-like, with lumps of spendthrift gold, 
 That swell their sides and sleep!" 
 
 BARRY CORNWALL. 
 
 " Good resolves a moment hot, 
 Fairly begun but finished not." 
 
 MR. CLAYTON'S house was still a central point of gaiety, 
 and Isabel a star that shed lustre over it, but at times 
 there was an inexplicable expression of joy in her lovely 
 face which was apart from, and independent of the 
 crowd who gathered nightly around her, a look as 
 though she were listening to music unheard by other 
 ears, or saw beautiful forms visible only to herself. But 
 her secret, whatever it was, did not interrupt her life of 
 thoughtless pleasure, for who so exquisitely attired, so 
 bent upon enjoyment, so glittering with costly gems as 
 the fair mistress of that palace-home ? 
 
 Nor was its master changed in aught since the open- 
 ing of our story save in the outward bodily change that
 
 33 2 Vernon Grove. 
 
 years had made. Now, as then, he was flushed with 
 success ; everything that he touched seemed to turn to 
 gold ; no speculation, however wild, but yielded him 
 abundantly, no investment so extravagant but that it 
 brought him a return tenfold. 
 
 Pale hollow-eyed men, harassed with toil and failure, 
 besought this flourishing Croesus for his assistance or 
 simply his advice, since he was so successful in all that 
 he undertook ; but the last he was not always ready to 
 give, because it might teach them his secret of luck the 
 first never. Heads of charity societies appealed to him 
 in vain. What had he to do with charity, when he paid 
 an exorbitant tax to support the poor ? Little bare-footed 
 children pleaded with him for a penny for some starving 
 mother, but he scowled forbiddingly upon their upturned 
 faces, and sent them away empty-handed. 
 
 White hairs silvered his head, reminding him of the 
 flight of time; death aimed a fatal arrow at friends and 
 companions to tell him that the grave was the end of all, 
 and still the toil was only for gold no other treasure 
 did he lay up than that. 
 
 Albert Linwood had entered like a shadow among 
 them, and like a shadow had passed by. In a few words 
 to Isabel, he had told her what had come to pass, and 
 then bade her farewell for ever. Something like a tear 
 dimmed her eyes as she listened to his touching words, 
 but a thoughtless smile succeeded almost before he had 
 passed from her sight ; she had other things to think of 
 besides the story of another's sorrow. 
 
 To Florence, when Isabel carelessly related the account 
 of Linwood's visit and its cause, the intelligence came 
 like a death-blow. Her existence suddenly became a
 
 Vernon Grove. 333 
 
 blank, for her schemes had proved useless, her toils futile, 
 her life a wreck made so by her own imprudence and 
 folly. With no object to interest her, more and more 
 restless she became, more and more repining and discon- 
 tented, until even Isabel deserted her once intimate 
 friend, or welcomed her only when she could be enter- 
 taining and cheerful to her guests or herself. 
 
 The soft mild earnest of Spring which saw the parting 
 between Sybil and Albert, was followed by a spell of 
 severe and almost unprecedented cold, one of those 
 atmospheric phenomena for which there is no accounting, 
 when the chilling ice and snow, treading close upon a 
 genial smile of nature, blight the fair promise of a season 
 of fruit and flowers. The ice hung hi long festoons 
 upon the newly-budding trees, the sod was frozen and 
 hard, the sleet came down in one white pitiless sheet, 
 and the sudden change of temperature was a trying 
 ordeal even for those who were housed and comfortable. 
 
 But upon the poor, especially the improvident poor, 
 the visitation of another wintry spell was an unlooked-for 
 event the more so because the unusual severity of the 
 weather shut them out from many employments that it 
 was their custom to be engaged in ; but though neither 
 help nor advice were withheld by those who had their 
 welfare at heart, the demand for money to supply their 
 necessities was so great that their friends almost de- 
 spaired, under the new appeals which were made to them 
 for succor, to satisfy even their moderate demands. In 
 answer to one who was interested in their destitute con- 
 dition, and who applied to Mr. Clayton for a mite from 
 his overflowing treasury, he replied coldly that he had 
 nothing to spare, inasmuch as if he gave to one he
 
 334 Vernon Grove. 
 
 would be obliged to give to all the applicants who daily 
 besieged his doors. Failing to move Clayton's stony 
 heart, and knowing the thousands that he bestowed on 
 useless luxuries, the zealous advocate was not to be 
 discouraged, but sent his wife to the rich man's wife with 
 a touching account of a family in utter poverty, whom 
 she might relieve by a trifling amount spared from her 
 superfluities. 
 
 The weather was cold, as I have said, and the day 
 particularly so when the appeal was made. In a luxu- 
 rious chair, whose downy cushions alone would have 
 imparted warmth to a freezing body, sat Mrs. Clayton, 
 when the friend of the poor was ushered into her pre- 
 sence. A glowing fire burnt upon the hearth, a foot- 
 warmer supported the feet of the dainty lady whose form 
 was wrapped in a superb cashmere robe, lined and 
 doubly lined for warmth, and the cold air was excluded 
 by every contrivance that art and ingenuity could 
 fashion. 
 
 She was watching the snow-flakes, as they softly 
 descended, with a dreamy smile upon her face ; her eyes 
 were directed towards the window, but her thoughts 
 took a wider range and dwelt upon the future, the 
 coming eventful latter days of Spring, when she trusted 
 that upon her breast, as lightly as laid those feathery 
 flakes upon the earth, a little child would rest as pure as 
 they, that long-wished-for long-denied gift of God, the 
 secret of her happy mysterious smile. 
 
 The door opened and a servant approached and said 
 to her that a lady without desired to see her upon a 
 matter of importance. 
 
 " Show her in," said Isabel, quite willing to be amused
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 335 
 
 or interested by any one ; " bring more coal and keep 
 the fire glowing this freezing day." 
 
 The servant left her and ushered in the humble and 
 conscientious pleader of the poor man's cause. Well- 
 bred and refined as she evidently was, she could not 
 repress a look of astonishment and curiosity at the 
 luxury around, but soon remembering her errand, she 
 thus stated the case : 
 
 " They live," she said, " this poor family, in the worst 
 hovel ever seen ; nothing but a crazy shutter excludes 
 the cold, and when it rains, the floor, from the dilapi- 
 dated condition of the roof, is inundated with water. 
 They have no money because the father can obtain no 
 work, and the mother is too ill to think of exerting her- 
 self in any way for their maintenance. The worst fea- 
 ture of the case is, that a little child who might be 
 relieved by timely aid a bright-eyed nursling of only 
 six weeks old must soon die unless it can obtain the 
 nourishment which the mother is too weak to give 
 it." 
 
 " Ah, then, they have an infant," said Isabel, showing 
 for the first time an interest in the recital ; " and is it 
 pretty and attractive, and has it sweet winning ways ?" 
 
 " That I scarcely know," replied her visitor ; " all that 
 I do know is, that the child is very near death, and we 
 have had so many calls upon us lately, that it is impossi- 
 ble to assist these as effectually as we would like to. 
 Could you not from your abundance spare enough to 
 keep that father from despair, and the mother and child 
 from starvation ?" 
 
 Isabel's heart was touched ; she expected her purse to 
 be plentifully replenished in the evening, when her hus-
 
 336 Vernon Grove. 
 
 band returned, she. said, nnd then would send an abun- 
 dant supply of money to relieve their necessities. 
 
 Her visitor then carefully designated where the dona- 
 tion was to be sent, and was most particular in her 
 directions; a neighbor, she said, as poor almost as they 
 were, who had rendered many a service to the suffering 
 family, would be the recipient of the donation, and lay 
 it out in a judicious way for their comfort. Then calling 
 heaven's blessing upon Isabel's head, with grateful 
 acknowledgments, she departed. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton passed the remainder of the morning ab- 
 sorbed in a new novel, and forgot, in imaginary griefs, the 
 real ones of which she had heard, when the dinner hour 
 arrived and her husband returned. He shook the 
 feathery flakes of snow from his dress in a playful man- 
 ner, and looked as though he had enjoyed the frore air 
 without, so well had he been protected by furs and the 
 warmest garments against its severity. His spirits were 
 high, too, and he entertained Isabel with an account of 
 that day's glorious achievements, in which he had out- 
 witted two sharp business men, and had come off victo- 
 rious with several extra hundreds. The dinner passed 
 cheerfully ; then came Isabel's siesta, an hour of deep 
 and uninterrupted repose, almost always necessary 
 because of her late hours and evenings of excitement. 
 On this afternoon, too, she had especial need of rest, in 
 order to be able, with refreshed spirits, to attend a grand 
 festival which had occupied her thoughts for many days, 
 a fancy ball, in which she was to appear in the character 
 of Night. 
 
 Her sleep was long and refreshing, and her first 
 thought on awaking was to make arrangements for
 
 Vernon Grove. 337 
 
 arraying herself for the long-talked-of, long-anticipated 
 ball, in a toilet which, though exquisite in its simplicity, 
 was remarkable for its richness and perfect taste. 
 
 Her robe consisted of black velvet of the softest and 
 most silky texture, relieved on the bosom by a fall of 
 the most elaborate lace which art could manufacture or 
 money purchase. Her hair was combed plainly over 
 her brow, and above its glossy smoothness rose a tiara 
 of diamonds in the form of a crescent, from which de- 
 scended a black veil almost reaching to the feet, and 
 which, together with her dress, was literally studded 
 with small stars composed of the same precious stones. 
 Upon her arms and neck were glittering bracelets and a 
 necklace of jet and diamonds, and never had Isabel so 
 well deserved the epithet, "beautiful," as she did on this 
 night, when she stood before Clayton in her imposing 
 and radiant costume. 
 
 " You are magnificent," said Clayton as she flashed 
 upon his sight in all her brilliant loveliness, " even 
 the gorgeous Night wih 1 find a rival in you this even- 
 ing." 
 
 "I knew that you would like me," she said with a smile 
 of gratified vanity, " my mirror told me that you would 
 approve of my dress and me, and now, Clayton, tell me 
 if I am not right in thinking that you would not love 
 me half so well if I were simply attired as a village 
 country girl ?" 
 
 " That is not a hard question for me to answer," he 
 replied, " but still one that I could not merely dismiss 
 with a 'yes,' or 'no.' I could not love anything that 
 I was not proud of, and Robert Clayton's wife is most 
 loved when he is most proud of her." 
 15
 
 338 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "And are you proud of me to-night?" she returned 
 with pretty coquetry. 
 
 " What a question to ask when you know that you 
 are peerless, and when I have told you that the Night 
 herself, the inspiration of song, the beloved of the poets, 
 will look at you with envy through her ten thousand 
 starry eyes." 
 
 Isabel was satisfied; she knew her power, she mis- 
 trusted not her fascination, but there was a yearning in 
 her heart to assure herself that the mere externals were 
 not what Clayton alone prized, a yearning which all 
 women must have who possess that fleeting perishable 
 gift of perfect beauty, so dangerous in more than one 
 sense. Xor is it a satisfying possession ; there is a con- 
 tinual struggle to preserve it and to meet the expecta- 
 tions of friends, and when it fades, as fade it must, 
 unless a mind is well regulated to bear changes and dis- 
 appointments, its decline is a positive period of suffering 
 to her who has owned it. Far preferable must be that 
 happy medium state termed " good looking, " upon 
 which years make no impression, except in many cases 
 to improve, and where, not cognizant of any great fall- 
 ing off, one feels somewhat of an approach to the happy 
 consciousness of " growing old gracefully." 
 
 "Suppose," continued Isabel, "that there had been 
 some mark of defect upon my face, suppose that I did 
 not possess the beauty which you give me credit for, or 
 that my eyes had been blinded like poor Richard's 
 would you have loved me then as now ?" 
 
 " Your beauty first enchained me, I confess," said 
 Clayton seriously ; " that was to me all potent, and I 
 was fortunate while I fell a willing captive to your
 
 Vernon Grove. 339 
 
 charms and won you for my own, to find you possessed 
 of fine qualities of the heart. I fear that if you had had 
 any of the defects which you have just mentioned, you 
 would not have attracted my admiration, and that 
 alone leads to my love. No, had you been blind or 
 deformed, I Avould have passed you by as not in or of 
 my world, for I have a dread of anything that is so 
 constituted by nature. An accident, like that of Ver- 
 non's, I should view in a different light ; when the beauty 
 of one who is dear to you is defaced after you have 
 learned to love him or her, habit is so strong that you 
 are not repulsed but love on, but this, Isabel, has 
 nothing to do with your question, and I have been led 
 into quite a little oration while the carriage has been in 
 waiting for some time; why agitate such questions, 
 dearest ? Be satisfied that you are all that I could wish, 
 and that I love you as devotedly, as exclusively, as even 
 your requiring nature can desire." 
 
 In this half-playful, half-serious converse, which they 
 both had reason to remember for many, many years 
 after, passed the half hour that preceded their going to 
 the ball, and amid its brilliant scenes, where Isabel 
 reigned triumphant, her promise to the friend of the 
 poor teas forgotten. 
 
 A late breakfast found them talking over the events 
 of the night before, and as the same lady, whom Isabel 
 had so cordially welcomed the day previous, desired to 
 speak to her for a few minutes, the waiter ushered her in 
 without ceremony as one whose visit would be acceptable. 
 
 Isabel received her with a conscious blush, and stam- 
 mered out some apologies which her visitor did not 
 appear to hear.
 
 34-O Vernon Grove. 
 
 " I have come," she said hurriedly, " to inquire about 
 the money which you sent yesterday ; unfortunately it 
 did not arrive at its destination, and it must have been 
 taken to the wrong house." 
 
 Clayton looked from one to the other for an explana- 
 tion. 
 
 " It is only about a poor and suffering family," said 
 Isabel, " to whom I promised to send some aid." 
 
 " I am sorry," said Clayton gravely, " that misguided 
 persons will persist in making their ill-timed applications 
 for assistance here, and more sorry, that at this tune, 
 Isabel, they should worry and distress you by their revolt- 
 ing pictures of the suffering of the poor, who, after all, 
 seem to me to be surrounded by comforts without the 
 trouble of toiling for them. You have promised, however, 
 therefore you must perform ; here is sufficient to keep 
 them for some time from starvation, though I think it a 
 superfluous donation, inasmuch as I have to pay enough 
 away to-day in the shape of poor taxes to pave their 
 floors with silver." 
 
 Isabel extended her hand to receive the comparatively 
 small donation which her husband handed her. 
 
 " Stop, Mrs. Clayton," said her visitor, laying her hand 
 with dignity upon Isabel's ; " there is no need of your 
 charity in the case I mentioned, as it would come just 
 tAvelve hours too late, and your promise did not extend 
 to others. After I left you yesterday, hope sustained 
 the little group I mentioned to you, until the day wore 
 into night, and then it merged into despair, and I learned 
 this morning that after waiting in vain for the assis- 
 tance which I told them they could depend upon as 
 being sent from you, the husband, maddened by poverty
 
 Vernon Grove. 341 
 
 and want, took refuge in the bottle, and is raving in the 
 delirium of drunkenness ; the wife, more shocked at his 
 state than pressed even by hunger and disease, dying 
 and the little infant whose frail thread of life was only 
 held unbroken by its mother's devotion, far beyond pain 
 and trouble dead." 
 
 "Dead!" echoed Isabel. The word rang like a knell 
 in her ear while her lips repeated it again and again. 
 " The little infant dead !" 
 
 "Children die daily," said the visitor, unable to refrain 
 from a parting word of reproach, " but scarcely under 
 such circumstances as these." 
 
 Clayton frowned gloomily, Isabel trembled at the just 
 rebuke, while, conscious of having done her duty, their 
 unwelcome guest passed quietly from the room.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII, 
 
 "I see them sitting by each other's side 
 In the heart's silent secrecy 1 I hear 
 The breath of meditation from their souls ; 
 They speak ; a soft subduing tenderness 
 Born of devotion, innocence, and bliss, 
 Steals from their bosoms in a silvery voice 
 That makes a pious hymning melody." 
 
 JOHN WILSON. 
 
 " Life, when he least expected, burst in blossom. 
 Music became the measure of his hours, 
 His paths were paths of flowers." 
 
 HIRST'S Endymion. 
 
 VERNON'S daily visits to the Grove, to plan improre- 
 nients, and to restore the house and grounds to their 
 former completeness, gave him a constancy of occupa- 
 tion which was most beneficial to him. Something like 
 this he needed to take him away from himself and the 
 constantly recurring thought, that the time was fast 
 approaching when he would lose the companionship of 
 Sybil for ever. Books had ceased to entice him, for were 
 they ever so attractive, his thoughts would wander as 
 the most exciting passages were read to him, and the 
 authors whom he most admired had lost their charm. 
 On the other hand, he was acquiring the habit of self- 
 conquest, and felt a certain satisfaction in the conscious- 
 ness that he was hiding from Linwood and Sybil the
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 343 
 
 gloom which enveloped his inner life. He had, moreover, 
 made a determination to be more cheerful, and not to 
 come before his friends like a dark shadow of evil, 
 clouding the sunshine of their days; and since it was 
 inevitable that social happiness was not to be his lot, he 
 resolved to make the memory of Sybil's last days in his 
 society pleasant, and therefore upon his return each 
 evening from his visit to the Grove, his brilliant sallies 
 of wit and his inexhaustible fund of entertaining conver- 
 sation won his guests to new admiration of his talents 
 and varied powers. 
 
 It was in a mood somewhat like that which has been 
 described above, with sorrow in his heart but with a 
 a song upon his lips, that he entered the little porch at 
 the cottage on the evening of the day which had wit- 
 nessed the parting between Sybil and Albert. 
 
 Sybil had never been told the amount of Vernon's 
 loss by the fire, indeed any allusion to that fearful 
 night had always seemed to agitate her, and the subject 
 was tacitly avoided ; but from the little that she gained 
 from Vernon's conversations with Albert, her impression 
 was that nearly the whole edifice had been destroyed, 
 together with the pictures, works of art, books, and fur- 
 niture, and she thought if such were the case, Vernon 
 must be almost impoverished. But so little experience 
 had she in anything that related to money transactions, 
 that the estimate she had formed was far from correct. 
 It was true that his loss was quite severe, but fortunately 
 nil that had been destroyed could easily be supplied 
 from Vernon's ample fortune. 
 
 Laboring under the false impression she had formed, 
 Sybil passed many a restless night before her strength
 
 344 Vernon Grove. 
 
 fully returned in thinking of romantic plans (if lie would 
 allow her to remain after she had broken her engage- 
 ment with Albert), whereby she could assist him, or in 
 case that the luxuries to which he had been accustomed 
 had to be relinquished, how best she could help to make 
 up by her untiring devotion the deprivation he would 
 thus be obliged to endure. 
 
 One step had been achieved Albert had gone but a 
 new difficulty arose in Sybil's mind as to the manner in 
 which Vernon would receive the intelligence. His song 
 as he entered smote upon her heart, he seemed to be so 
 happy in spite of his misfortunes. She felt as if his very 
 joy was a rebuke to her^ and in that gay careless mood 
 dreaded to tell him, if he inquired for Albert, that he 
 had departed from his friend for ever. She feared, too, 
 one of those old terrible outburts of ungovernable pas- 
 sion whicHi knew no law, and which, even though he had 
 tried to struggle against them so bravely, now and then 
 might burst in fury upon her head. 
 
 Sybil was pacing to and fro in the little porch. She 
 could not remain calmly within awaiting Vernon's return; 
 that quick tread which sent the blood coursing through 
 her frame was preferable to sitting and watching the 
 pendulum's lazy motion, or to reading pages which her 
 eyes indeed mechanically followed, though they con- 
 veyed to her pre-occupied mind no sense or meaning. 
 At last she heard the sound of horse-hoofs, then Vernon's 
 voice, then his approaching step, and she advanced to 
 meet him, and offered to lead him into the room. 
 
 " If you are walking, Sybil, I will join you," said he 
 " how long it is since we have had a talk about the stars ! 
 Tell me something of them as they twinkle out upon
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 345 
 
 the night, if your favorite Orion is belted as gor- 
 geously as of yore, and if the lost Pleiad has yet 
 returned to her sisters. Did Sybil ever tell you, Albert, 
 that a blind man taught her the constellations, and how 
 well with his help and the charts she has learned their 
 names? Give her your other arm, for we must not 
 forget that our little flower is still drooping, and not 
 nearly as strong as we hope the fresh Spring air will 
 make her." 
 
 Ah, bravely said were those few cheerful words, and 
 they had a deeper meaning, too, than Sybil imagined, 
 for they referred to the right that Albert had to be her 
 support and guide. 
 
 " Albert is not here," said Sybil, timidly. 
 
 " Not here !" said Vernon in astonishment, " why, is 
 the knight a truant, that he must thus leave his lady's 
 bower ? Take comfort, Sybil, he cannot desert you long." 
 
 "He will never return^ said Sybil, pausing in her 
 walk and speaking with trembling earnestness, " and he 
 bade me say farewell to you. I told you that I had 
 something to say to you, Mr. Vernon, sooner or later, 
 and now the time has arrived, more especially since you 
 have lost so much, and feel the heavy hand of misfor- 
 tune upon you. It is true that I have brought one sad 
 thing to pass, Albert's absence that was inevitable; 
 but if you will accept my services, me you still can have. 
 I will serve you and toil for you, no exertion will seem 
 too great, no privation too hard to bear, if you will let 
 me stay and be your friend, your sister, even your 
 servant ; and should this cottage be your home, I will 
 try to make it pleasant for you, so pleasant that you will 
 miss but very little the lost luxuries of Vernon Grove."
 
 346 Vernon Grove. 
 
 "And Albert?" questioned Vernon in the only words 
 which he could command himself sufficiently to utter. 
 
 " I could not, could not love him," said Sybil passion- 
 ately, "I tried, until I made myself deceitful; all the 
 long nights I would lie awake, hoping to make the 
 thought of him a thought of love, but in vain. Then 
 your letter came to Mrs. Clayton, and she read words 
 to me from it which sent my heart adrift from Vernon 
 Grove, bidding Albert God speed in his love, and saying 
 that it was your desire that I should be his wife, not 
 only your desire, but almost your command, and then 
 in an evil hour to please you, but only to please you, 
 Mr. Vernon, I consented, but since then I have had no 
 peace, none. Something has said to me hourly, ' you arc 
 living a lie.' Life has been a burden, and as I could not 
 love him, nor could I ever hope to after all this trying, 
 I told him so to-day. If you are too angry with me to 
 endure me in your presence, only say so, and I will find 
 another home, even that, though sad enough, would 
 be better than the struggle that has daily and hourly 
 been mine, but if you can forgive me, weighing all my 
 trials, my needs, my love for you and all that belongs 
 to you, the heart-agony I have endured in the false life 
 which I have told you of, then let your little Sybil 
 stay." 
 
 So saying she twined her arm more securely in his 
 and drew nearer to him, as though she knew how hard 
 it would be to thrust one away who, like a frightened 
 timid dove, sought protection in his bosom. 
 
 Vernon trembled ; a hundred varying emotions pas.^-d 
 through his mind, chief among which the thought of 
 Sybil's sufferings and Isabel's duplicity, which he at once
 
 Vernon Grove. 347 
 
 traced to Florence's schemes, was conspicuous. But over 
 all reigned a strange sensation of peace and holy joy, 
 the reality that he had so well counterfeited only a few 
 moments before. 
 
 " Poor child," he said, taking her hand with indescri- 
 bable tenderness of voice and manner, " poor suffering 
 child ; and so they made you believe that I would have 
 you wed Albert and leave me to my loneliness ; it was 
 all false, some fiendish plot misled you, and some day we 
 shall unravel it all. And would you share my fancied 
 poverty with me, as you said ? Is there nothing in the 
 wide world that could part you from me, Sybil ?" 
 
 " Ah, nothing." 
 
 " And is there no one whom you have met and would 
 welcome, were he to come to take you from the blind 
 man's hearth ?" 
 
 " No one in the whole wide world." 
 
 The grasp of his hand tightened around Sybil's yield- 
 ing fingers ; his pulses throbbed with a new sense of joy ; 
 that moment would have rewarded him for a lifetime of 
 suffering. 
 
 " Bless you, Sybil," he said with deep emotion, " now 
 has the sunshine of my life indeed returned, the silver 
 lining of my cloud appeared." 
 
 "And will you never send me away again?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Send you away, Sybil !" he exclaimed, " how could 
 I? and yet," he added, like one awaking from a sweet 
 dream, " God help me, but I must send you away, God 
 give me strength to do my duty unflinchingly, for I dare 
 not keep you with me any longer. Would you ask me 
 why," he continued, an uncontrollable impulse leading
 
 348 Vernon Grove. 
 
 him on, "I would tell you that I love you, love you with 
 the whole strength of my heart and soul. I never meant 
 to reveal this to you, Sybil, but justice to you and my- 
 self requires it now. There is no love in the world like 
 mine, for it has grown with years of the closest inter- 
 course ; it is prayerful, because you first taught me to 
 pray; it is forbearing, because you gave me my iirst 
 lessons in checking the sins of my exacting and imperi- 
 ous nature, and it is enduring because of the very ele- 
 ments which have fostered its growth, and therefore it 
 can never die as common loves die, or seek for another 
 object whereon to rest. Then, loving you thus, how 
 could I bear to think that the time might arrive, ay, 
 let it be a mere probability, when another would come 
 to claim you. I could never be quite happy under the 
 uncertainty; day and night, night and day, I should 
 think that my treasure might be taken away, and the 
 thought would bring only wretchedness with it. There 
 is a way," he continued after pausing for an instant, 
 " only one way in which I could be happier than ever 
 mortal was when happiest in the world, but I love you 
 too much to say it ; it would be wrong in me to wish to 
 appropriate so much loveliness and purity to my dark- 
 ened life. No, Sybil, leave me ere I so far forget myself 
 and my long cherished resolution as even to whisper it 
 in your ear tempt me not with your dear presence to 
 utter what might offend you irrevocably, and cause me 
 everlasting regret." 
 
 Sybil listened her life had known no joy like this ; 
 she knew that she was dear to him, but not so dear as 
 he had said. She laid her hands trustingly in his and 
 gazing up into his face with a look which he felt and
 
 Vernon Grove. 349 
 
 welcomed even through his blindness, spoke again, in 
 answer, earnest and trembling words. 
 
 " Say it," she said solemnly, " whatever way there is 
 to make your happiness, that way will most surely make 
 mine also." 
 
 " And you will not be angry or scornful if it offends 
 you, and you will keep your hands in mine still, even 
 thus, and not let our parting be abrupt, but stay with 
 me a little longer, Sybil, and talk on in your own sweet 
 way about the calm eternal stars ?" 
 
 " Angry and scornful, angry with you /" she said, " ah, 
 you little know how to measure a true heart's love." 
 
 These words gave him new life ; hope unbound the 
 fetters of his tongue and bestowed upon his wild long- 
 hidden wish a voice. It could not be wrong to utter it 
 now, when she, whom it most concerned, urged him on ; 
 when, after wealth and love had been laid at her feet she 
 had rejected them to return to him ; when it was so 
 plainly his duty to be frank with her own frank nature ; 
 under such circumstances any tribunal would absolve him 
 from his vow ; the words could not harm her, mere 
 words which she had promised she would not be offended 
 at ; and after all, he had himself proposed the worst 
 thing that could befall him, she could but leave him, she 
 could not deprive him of the privilege of still loving her 
 memoiy after she had departed from him for ever. 
 
 " Then, Sybil," he said, " I will trust that large gener- 
 ous heart, and rest my cause upon its wide extended 
 love I can only be happy were you mine, were you my 
 wife. "Would you, could you, be a blind man's wife ? 
 Never ; let us end this mockery ; come." 
 
 He turned from her as though to enter the cottage
 
 350 \Vrnon Grove. 
 
 door, but she stood between him and it, and arrested his 
 steps. 
 
 " I have come," she said, detaining him, " but not to 
 leave this pleasant porch just yet ; stop and listen to 
 me, I have come to tell you that I knew it could be 
 found, the love that would satisfy me, that I would turn 
 from the whole world to guide you, that our love is equal, 
 that I will be your wife, Richard. May I call you 
 Richard now ?" 
 
 With a glad cry of joy he caught her to his breast ; 
 the wish for sight was stilled ; content was he to be in 
 his darkened world, since her voice, with all its wealth 
 of tenderness, whispered to him that he was beloved, 
 and there beneath the stars he told her that he was 
 resigned even to his life-affliction, his blindness. 
 
 " Life, when least expected, burst in blossom, 
 Music became the measure of his hours, 
 His paths were paths of flowers."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 "Thou lamb in Childhood's field astray I 
 Whence earnest thou ? what angel bore 
 Thee past so many a fairer shore 
 Of guarding love and guidance mild, 
 To drop thee on this barren wild ?" 
 
 BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 "Blest Infancy 
 
 That from thy precious shore of hidden wealth, 
 Can'st lavish gifts as boundless, when compared 
 To the world's hollow pleasures, as a beam 
 Is to the mote that flits along its path." 
 
 MAEY LEE. 
 
 So changeable was Isabel's April-like temperament that 
 she was glad to hear of her brother's happiness. She 
 wrote him a long letter making a full confession of her 
 participation in Sybil's engagement to Albert ; so touch- 
 ing and contrite was it, she asked for forgiveness so 
 humbly that it was granted at once, and Vernon ac- 
 cepted an invitation which she urged upon him, to come 
 at once to the city, and to be married under Mr. Clay- 
 ton's roof. 
 
 They went, and it is enough for the development of 
 our story to say, without describing Isabel's kindness or 
 Mr. Clayton's welcome, the beauty of the bride's trous- 
 seau or the glorious sunshine which marked the happy 
 day, that they were married, and that a benediction from
 
 352 Vernon Grove. 
 
 God was never asked upon more congenial and loving 
 hearts. 
 
 Another event of importance was about to transpire 
 at Mr. Clayton's. Isabel's earnest prayer had at last 
 been granted and God had given her the promise of a 
 little child ; something to love ; an heir to all the wealth 
 so carefully hoarded, except where selfish gratification 
 was concerned ; a sunbeam to light up those lonely 
 rooms, a young voice to draw her homeward and to 
 keep her satisfied there. 
 
 To Clayton this promise was one of extraordinary 
 moment, and his pride and joy showed itself in increased 
 tenderness towards Isabel and in extravagant prepara- 
 tions for the little stranger. What wealth could buy 
 was to be laid at its feet the finest lawns would scarcely 
 be soft enough to enfold its delicate limbs, and the laces 
 and embroideries ordered for its wardrobe were curiosi- 
 ties in themselves from their richness and costliness. 
 Then its eyes were to open upon everything fair ami ex- 
 quisite, and as it grew to years all that was beautiful in 
 art and nature was to minister in its tastes. Gorgeous 
 canopies threaded with gold hung over the elaborate 
 cradle, and precious salvers and vases stood ready for 
 the infant's use. Nor was he content with merely pro- 
 viding for the present wants of the 'child, but a so-called 
 "nursery" was fitted up with an extravagance which 
 was almost sinful. Rare pictures which a child might 
 understand, stories told by skilful artists' hands, lined 
 the walls ; curious toys lay strewed about like the 
 bijouterie in a drawing-room ; silver and gold were 
 manufactured into playthings, and musical instruments 
 mimicked with exquisite skill and precision into minia-
 
 Vernon Grove. 253 
 
 ture toys. So talked of was this extraordinary outlay 
 of money, this unusual prodigality, that it was consi- 
 dered a privilege among the friends of the Claytons' circle 
 to gain admittance to this room, set apart from all others, 
 in order to boast of having seen the rare curiosities it 
 contained. 
 
 At length the day and the hour arrived, and the 
 promise of the Spring, a child, lay slumbering upon its 
 mother's breast, 
 
 " With her hands, soft, white, and slender, 
 And her red lips full and tender, 
 And her breathing, like the*motion 
 Which the waves of calmest ocean 
 In their peaceful throbbings keep." 
 
 There was stillness in the household, but how different 
 from the silence of a house that death has visited ! Every 
 footfall was noiseless, but every lip was smiling ; every 
 voice whispered, but each whisper was a note of joy. 
 
 Robert Clayton hung over his new-born treasure and 
 his lovely wife with a heart filled with pride and gratitude. 
 His worship of the beautiful was never more fully called 
 out than then, for the mother and child were perfect in 
 form and feature. Nor was he disappointed in the sex 
 of the infant, for Isabel had most wished for a little girl 
 to be her companion in the long hours when he was 
 absent, and moreover there was something akin to 
 royalty in the idea of giving away a, daughter who could 
 boast of the wealth of princes. 
 
 As day by day passed, the child grew in beauty; a 
 serene patient face was hers, with the calm loveliness 
 which we see upon the face of the infant Samuel.
 
 354 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Isabel's countenance was like the day, radiant, brilliant, 
 and smiling ; with a light upon it not borrowed from 
 without, but which emanated from a heart ever carelessly 
 happy; the child's resembled moonlight rather, with 
 its deep, solemn shadows, its unfathomable mysteries, a 
 face leaving in the mind a memory which vibrated 
 between a smile and a sigh. 
 
 Time unrolled his mystic scroll of hours, and still the 
 infant developed beneath her parents' fond and watchful 
 eyes. First came the realizing sense that she was startled 
 by sounds, next, that her hearing was singularly acute, 
 that she was sensitive to the slightest touch, and that 
 her lungs were strong and powerful. Each new unfolding 
 of that young and wonderful life, each leaf opening in 
 the curious mechanism of that living flower, was a source 
 of inexpressible joy and interest to Clayton and Isabel. 
 Sometimes they hung over her as she lay sleeping, 
 weaving plans for her future in whispers, for fear that a 
 louder tone might awake her peaceful slumbers, or 
 commenting upon her features, her soft wavy hair, or 
 the dimples that covered 
 
 " Those crossed hands upon her breast," 
 
 those tiny hands, crossed unconsciously, as though in 
 prayer. 
 
 And yet with still more tenderness when she awoke 
 did they guard their little treasure from evils real 
 and imaginary, from a ray of light let unguardedly into 
 the room, from a draught of air, or a sudden and unex- 
 pected noise. 
 
 Vernon's old friend and physician, Dr. Bailey, was in 
 close attendance upon Isabel and her child, and her manner
 
 Vernon Grove. 355- 
 
 to him was softened when compared with the haughty 
 careless air with which she had met him at the door of 
 her brother's room and heard the intelligence of his doom 
 of perpetual blindness. She had learned to be accustomed 
 to his brusque yet honest manner ; each day, too, he 
 appeared to her more gentle and considerate, and more- 
 over intensely interested in the new-born babe, while 
 his step, which was once like the footfall of a giant, was 
 now echoless, and his voice tenderer to her, it seemed, 
 in his daily inquiries concerning the infant and herself. 
 l>ut Isabel might have been mistaken in the new opinion 
 which she was forming concerning her rough but skilful 
 physician, for all the world was bright to her now, and 
 every one in it a miracle of perfection, so surely does 
 happiness color the atmosphere of those who look at life 
 through its medium. 
 
 It is true, however, that Dr. Bailey showed a peculiar 
 interest in the infant under his charge, more perhaps 
 than was needed in the case of one who, in sick-room 
 phrase, was " doing well." It was true, too, that one 
 day after hanging over it in silence for some time, and 
 when he had taken his departure and had descended 
 one flight of stairs, he turned as though to retrace his 
 steps, pausing irresolutely while a strange expression of 
 indecision passed over his face. Then it could not have 
 been doubted, had any one heard them, that the words 
 which he uttered related to the group he had just left. 
 Full of mystery they were, and yet they were said by 
 one who despised mystery, and prided himself upon ever 
 speaking the naked truth : 
 
 " Not yet, they cannot bear it yet, and perhaps after 
 all I may be in the wrong."
 
 356 Vernon Grove. 
 
 But the next day decided Dr. Bailey not to withhold 
 the communication, whatever it might be, from Robert 
 Clayton and his wife. 
 
 " Xurse, bring the child hither," said he abruptly, as 
 he stood by a window and unclosed the darkened blinds. 
 
 The child was brought just from its morning toilette, 
 fresh as a rain-brightened flower, and as pure, its long 
 embroidered dress sweeping the floor, and soft laces 
 hanging about its tiny form. 
 
 Isabel uttered an exclamation of remonstrance : 
 
 "Oh, do not take it there," she said, "that bright 
 glare of light has weakened even my strong eyes, and 
 how can her feeble sight bear its glare ?" 
 
 " It is necessaiy, Madam," was all the reply the 
 physician vouchsafed. 
 
 Then he took the infant in his arms and having sent 
 the nurse away upon some trivial message to his servant, 
 turned from Isabel so that the curtains might intervene 
 between them as she lay anxiously watching him, and 
 gave his whole attention to the child. First he exposed 
 her tender eyes to the bright glare of the morning sun, 
 and peered anxiously down into her face ; then he forced 
 the lids far away from the ball of the eye, until the whole 
 sensitive surface lay exposed, the child screaming in 
 the mean time with pain from his rough and cruel treat- 
 ment. 
 
 But it was necessary. 
 
 Then a deep shade of anxiety crossed his face. Invo- 
 luntarily the hard unfeeling man, as Isabel thought him, 
 drew the infant to his breast, uttered some pitying 
 exclamation in a voice as gentle as a woman's, and then 
 returned her to her nurse's arms.
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 357 
 
 In the evening following that day, Dr. Bailey paid an 
 unexpected and unusual call upon his patient. Hitherto 
 his visits had been before candle-light, but on this occasion 
 it was fully dark. 
 
 He was one of those physicians, not uncommon in the 
 class of doctors of medicine, who though first in their 
 profession, sought after and patronized, have none of 
 the drawing-room manners of the more polished members 
 of the fraternity who study sick-room words and phrases, 
 and gild their pills, if possible, while administering them, 
 advising even a dying man, through a trick of courtesy, 
 to hope for life and restoration to health. Dr. Bailey 
 was none of these ; a little more blandness in tone and 
 manner would have improved him lie only thought of 
 his patient and how to cure him ; his step was not 
 always soft and measured, nor his words silvery; some- 
 times even the sanctity of the quiet of a sick-room did 
 not prevent him from uttering an expletive so strong 
 that it might have been construed into an oath, and 
 when death was hovering over a patient and waiting for 
 his prey, he told him so, nor cheated him into the belief 
 that the means used merely to soften his passage to the 
 grave, might yet restore him to health once more. 
 
 Such was the man who entered Isabel Clayton's cham- 
 ber, well meaning and skilful, but rough and abrupt in 
 the extreme. He was there to do his duty, and he per- 
 formed it without calculating how the blow could be 
 made to descend most gently. 
 
 A pretty group met his eye as he entered. The 
 happy mother was sitting up, enveloped in cashmeres, 
 and half buried in an easy chair of ponderous dimen- 
 sions. How lovely she was with that conscious feeling
 
 358 Vernon Grove. 
 
 of importance, the sweet motherly air which showed 
 itself in every movement, the subdued tone of her 
 voice and the chastened expression of her eyes, which 
 were turned ever upon the calm face of her child ! 
 
 Opposite to her sat Vernon and Sybil, very, very near 
 each other. He loved to feel her breath npon his cheek, 
 he loved to know that she was by his side, no\v that she 
 was his own, and playfully would tell her, while he 
 clasped her hand within his, that he wished to assure 
 himself of the presence of his good angel lest her sky- 
 sisters, taking advantage of his blindness, might spirit 
 her away. 
 
 Close to Isabel, so close that she might Avatch that 
 her treasure did not fall from his awkward arms, Clay- 
 ton was seated, holding the child, and speaking to it in 
 a language which was intelligible only to himself; he 
 was evidently improving in the arts of the nursery, and 
 had actually lulled the infant to sleep with a cradle-like 
 motion and some ambitious attempts at a lullaby, which 
 seemed to be a great source of amusement to the rest 
 of the circle ; while in the distance was the nurse, fast 
 asleep, it is true, but as much alive to the interest of the 
 child as if she were awake and holding her in her arms. 
 
 It was not cold, and merely a few embers glowed 
 upon the hearth, as the nurse said, "to take the damp- 
 ness from the air." 
 
 It would be difficult to conceive of a happier group ; 
 there seemed to be no shade in the picture, if we may 
 except Vernon's blindness ; and if life is judged by 
 contrast, it might be said that he was happier far than 
 all! 
 
 As we have said, the grouping was one to charm a
 
 Vernon Grove. 359 
 
 looker on ; the sweet domestic quiet, together with the 
 surroundings, the bouquet of rare flowers gracing the 
 stand, the silken draperies, the luxurious lounges, the 
 fair mother, the helpless infant, which told at once why 
 they were thus gathered there ; and Dr. Bailey should 
 have smiled when he entered, but he frowned rather, at 
 that light-hearted assemblage. Let us do him the justice 
 to say that he brought the frown with him ; it emanated 
 from his own inward self; like the reed Avhich bends 
 when it is held over an unseen stream of water, so the 
 frown showed the state of the physician's heart ; any 
 one might have told that it was an index, and that all 
 was not peaceful within. 
 
 " A family party ?" asked he, looking around. 
 
 " Strictly," said Clayton, smiling, " where no one 
 but yourself would find a welcome." 
 
 " So much the better," growled Dr. Bailey; " nurse, 
 light the gas." 
 
 " We have not lit it yet," said Isabel, timidly ; " they 
 tell me that the eyes of infants are very weak." 
 
 Dr. Bailey scarcely regarded Isabel's remark, and 
 nodded to the nurse, one of those functionaries who 
 think physicians are commissioned angels, and can never 
 do wrong ; so she obeyed his order forthwith. 
 
 Isabel glanced at the infant, who luckily was sleeping, 
 peacefully still, and then shaded her own eyes from the 
 sudden blaze of light, thinking that though the doctor 
 was very cruel, he was doing something which was com- 
 mon and necessary, while Clayton and Sybil drew back, 
 blinded by the sudden accession of light. 
 
 " I only needed this test before I spoke out," said Dr. 
 Bailey ; " here, give me the child."
 
 360 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Clayton, knowing that he was experienced and skilful, 
 gave up the child, though quite at a loss to imagine 
 what he meant to do. The light was certainly too 
 strong to be let suddenly into that long darkened 
 room, but who would dare to doubt Dr. Bailey's know- 
 ledge in almost every branch of his profession ! The 
 only individual who seemed to take in a full meaning of 
 what was passing, was, strange to say, Veraon, to whom 
 Sybil was relating what transpired in the scene before 
 her in whispers. 
 
 "Another!" was all that he said, and Sybil under- 
 stood too well a few minutes later the significance of the 
 word. 
 
 The little head of the sleeping child lay helplessly 
 against the physician's rough coat, encircled by his arm. 
 Suddenly he dashed some cold water that stood near 
 into her face, and she awoke immediately under the 
 bright stream of light. 
 
 She did not cry, she did not moan ; calmly she looked 
 upward, never flinching, never winking as she lay. Dr. 
 Bailey raised her nearer and nearer to the flame, turned 
 the screw, and let out each burner to its full capacity, 
 passed his hand rapidly to and fro over the child's eyes, 
 then turning towards the wondering group who were 
 slowly understanding the meaning of that fearful panto- 
 mime, he laid her once more in her father's arms, and 
 looking into his face said, with a rough voice, though a 
 tear trembled in his eye : 
 
 " 3Ir. Clayton, your child is blind!" 
 
 The physician departed, and came again and again, 
 but never more did he open the door upon a group so 
 smilingly happy as that which greeted him ere they had
 
 Vernon Grove. 361 
 
 learned the truth which he had come to tell, and which 
 turned the note of gladness into a sorrowful wail of dis- 
 appointment and despair. 
 
 NOTE. The author of this work deems it necessary to say that the 
 reader will find a striking coincidence between the preceding chapter 
 and one in the recent novel of " John Halifax." It was, however, 
 written long before " John Halifax" was published. 
 
 16
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 " I planted in my heart one seed of love, 
 "Watered with tears and watched with sleepless care; 
 It grew, and when I looked that it should prove 
 A gracious tree, and blessed harvests bear, 
 Blossom nor fruit was there to crown my pain, 
 Tears, cares, and labor, all had been in vain ; 
 And yet I dare not pluck it from my heart, 
 Lest, with the deep struck root my life depart." 
 
 From the Italian. MRS. F. K. BCTLER. 
 
 MAXY years have passed since Sybil first looked upon 
 the calm picture of Evening. She has it near her still, 
 and though surrounded by works of more artistic merit, 
 and paintings executed by those who bear the names of 
 the great, still does this undying memory of her youth 
 combine to shed the steady light of peace around it, a 
 peace, ah, how iinlike the life of the self-exiled artist by 
 whom it was executed ! 
 
 Albert Linwood never expected to find peace, nor 
 did he attempt to look for it ; his lot was that of a man 
 who, having one great all-absorbing passion, and being 
 disappointed hi its fulfilment and fruition, accepts his 
 destiny as an inheritor of sorrow, and uncomplainingly 
 loves on. 
 
 Once Art with him was the chief object of his exist- 
 ence, but now it was only secondary, he used it as a 
 means, not an end, and so far as it helped him some-
 
 Vernon Grove. 363 
 
 what to forget the gloomier points of his fate, so far as 
 it kept him from utter despair, he was grateful to it 
 no farther. 
 
 He had won fame and wealth, and still he wrought 
 mechanically upon the canvass, apparently as though 
 life depended upon his efforts. Men pointed him out to 
 young aspiring artists as an example of perseverance 
 worthy of imitation; women wondered at his cold 
 reserve, which rendered him averse to society, and, 
 avoiding all overtures to a more social life, still he toiled 
 on. His studio was not an object of interest to visitors, 
 for his pictures were always sent to those who had 
 ordered them, as soon as completed ; and would the 
 curious endeavor to obtain a glimpse of his studio, 
 nothing would be seen but the absorbed artist, intent 
 upon his last commission, and toiling with feverish impa- 
 tience to finish it, that he might begin upon another still. 
 
 There were hours, however, when his closed doors 
 refused admittance to all when the past, too strong for 
 him, would come and wrest from him his self-control, 
 and he abandoned himself to thoughts which soothed 
 him in proportion as he could cheat himself by making 
 them real. It was at such times as these, that drawing 
 from a curtained recess an easel, upon which stood an 
 unfinished picture, he would linger over it with touching- 
 fondness, occasionally adding a line which his memory 
 recalled, until weariness or hunger called him away 
 from the sweet smiling eyes which seemed almost real 
 in their tender imman expression. And this was to 
 him the all of positive pleasure that his life contained. 
 
 Italy, where he had taken up his abode, is proverbially 
 a cradle for the world-worn, the weary, the solitary, for
 
 364 Vernon Grove. 
 
 beneath her sunny skies, and in contemplation of her 
 natural and artistic beauties, the restless soul- should be 
 rocked, if anywhere upon earth, into calm repose, but 
 Linwood courted its fascinations in vain. 
 
 Sometimes hi her cypress groves, with clustering vines 
 around him and the vale of the Appenines before him, 
 he forgot for a while his own peculiar sorrow, the sorrow 
 of life-loneliness, in the sweet fancy that she, his Sybil, 
 was by his side ; or when roaming above Fiesole, in 
 reality alone, but in thought always accompanied by 
 another, with the sense of the divine influence of the 
 beautiful, as he gazed upon jewelled Florence in the 
 burnished setting of the glisten ing Arno, he could not 
 separate that delightful emotion from the idea that she 
 likewise, standing by his side, though invisible, shared 
 with him the transient happiness of a joyful feeling. 
 
 Men sometimes wondered at the rapt and absent 
 demeanor of the successful artist ; he sought no com- 
 panionships, but seemed to be all sufficient for himself 
 or to carry about with him a presence from which he 
 cared not to be separated, more especially since he was 
 seen one day, when in the Tribune at Florence, while 
 gazing at a beautiful picture, to turn to an imaginary 
 being at his side saying, softly "Her smile is yours, 
 dear Sybil." 
 
 Linwood loved with the soul of an artist, loved as 
 those do upon whom God has written the word, " gifted." 
 As some men prize their gold, their reputation, their 
 honor, Linwood idolized Sybil. She was a part of his 
 life, and failing to obtain such a blessing as her constant 
 presence, he held her sacred in his memory. 
 
 But the time came when this ideal existence, this life
 
 Vernon Grove. 365 
 
 of thought must wear out the body upon which it acted. 
 His frame, never a very robust one, and predisposed by 
 his unequal, sedentary habits to weakness, gradually 
 gave way. Slowly came the decline, not even laying 
 him prostrate in the prime of youth, but waiting till 
 middle age ere the final blow was given. His step was 
 not so elastic, nor his hair so richly waving as of yore, 
 when death came softly and took him from his life of 
 dreams, whose romance he carried with him even to the 
 grave. 
 
 He had long since finished the mysterious picture, the 
 Jfemory upon which he had so lovingly wrought, and 
 when he found that his fast departing strength made 
 him a prisoner even upon his couch, he had it hung 
 where he might see it ever, and but part with its pitying 
 gaze in death. Linwood knew that he must die, but 
 the change which he saw clearly must come, had no 
 terrors for him. He had lived, he hoped, a good life, 
 perhaps a selfish one as regarded that all-absorbing 
 thought of Sybil, but God would forgive him, he said, 
 for that. He had used much of his wealth to benefit 
 others, particularly poor and struggling artists who 
 were industriously toiling upward, and to Heaven he 
 had committed his soul, thus fulfilling the two chief 
 commandments towards God and his neighbor. Xext 
 to God came his devotion to Sybil, to her memory had 
 he dedicated himself, and to do no act upon which her 
 pure eyes could have looked forbiddingly, had been 
 the guiding star of his life. 
 
 He was dying, at length; he felt it, he knew it ly 
 many sio-ns which he had accustomed himself to look 
 upon calmly, and he sent for persons to whom to intrust
 
 366 Vernon Grove. 
 
 his last wishes. His bequest was a simple one, and soon 
 reached her for whom alone it was intended. It merely 
 said, " As I have lived, so do I die, Sybil's. All that is 
 mine is hers. God keep her. Farewell." 
 
 As long as his eyes recognized anything, indeed until 
 they finally closed in death, he requested that the picture 
 which always hung in his sight, should retain its place, 
 and then, when all was over, that it might be forwarded 
 to Vemon Grove with his bequest. This, his last wish, 
 was religiously attended to, and even in the final 
 struggle his eyes Avere turned lovingly upon it, and his 
 lips still whispered that cherished name. 
 
 One evening, some Aveeks after this event, the inmates 
 of Vernon GroA'e hung with sorrowing hearts OA T er a 
 package Avhich had just been forwarded to them from 
 Italy, and Yernon knew, ere it was unsealed, that it 
 brought intelligence of his artist friend. Xo letter had 
 passed between them but one from Yernon, and Lin- 
 wood's reply. The first Avas an earnest appeal from 
 Yernon to induce the artist to return and be to himself 
 and Sybil even as a brother. The answer Avas sorrowful 
 but firm, Avishing them every happiness, desiring them 
 to forget his existence, and to leave him to himself in 
 his self-banishment. 
 
 Sybil's tears could not be repressed as she read the 
 neAv testimony of his constancy and thought of the 
 noble and generous heart that lay in its last sleep in a 
 foreign land, and still more Avas she affected by that 
 picture of herself, Avhich AA T as a masterpiece of painting, 
 and as a likeness truly a faithful memory. Xor Avas 
 Yernon less touched by this instance of the purity and 
 constancy of his friend's attachment to Sybil, and he let
 
 Vernon Grove. 367 
 
 hor weep on unrestrained, deeming her tears a fitting 
 tribute to one who had so loved and suffered. 
 
 Eventually the picture was placed in a curtained niche 
 as something sacred, a Memory too holy to be exhibited 
 to careless eyes, and even the little children drew the 
 covering reverently aside, and whispered softly to each 
 other that the hand that had painted it was still hi death, 
 and that it was so prized and cared for, because the 
 artist who had executed it had lived and died in sorrow 
 alone.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " "When first, beloved, in vanished hours 
 
 The blind man sought thy love to gain, 
 They said thy cheek was bright as flowers 
 
 New freshened by the summer rain. 
 They said thy movements, swift yet soft, 
 
 Were such as make the winged dove 
 Seem, as it gently soars aloft, 
 
 The image of repose and love. 
 And still beloved, till life grows cold, 
 
 "We'll wander 'neath a genial sky, 
 And only know that we are old 
 
 By counting happy years gone by : 
 For thou to me art still as fair 
 
 As when those happy years began, 
 When first thou cam'st to soothe and share 
 
 The sorrows of a sightless man." 
 
 MRS. NORTON. 
 
 THE course of our narrative brings us once more to a 
 winter's evening at Vernon Grove. At the time of 
 which we are writing, the building in which Sybil passed 
 her youth was no longer visible, for after the destruc- 
 tive fire that had occurred there, it had been rebuilt 
 with numerous modern improvements, making it the 
 very model of a home whose chief characteristic was its 
 air of luxurious comfort and elegance. 
 
 The inmates were sitting before a glowing wood fire, 
 for Vernon loved, since he could not behold the blaze,
 
 Vernon Grove. 369 
 
 to hear the hissing of the sap, the crackling of the dry 
 logs, and the cheerful bustle and activity accompanying 
 the piling on of fresh fuel ; he liked to know that the 
 smoke curled up in graceful volumes, and it rejoiced him 
 to listen to the children's prattle as they traced pictures 
 in the changing embers while they brightened or faded, 
 or counted the sparks in busy glee. There was some- 
 thing like busy life in his home fireside, in contrast with 
 the silent steady heat of his sister's hearth, where the 
 unbroken monotony was only interrupted by the harsh 
 unwelcome sound of the crash of coal as the grate was 
 replenished. The first soothed him, the other made him 
 restless and impatient. 
 
 " Sybil," said he to his wife, who sat near him, " since 
 this sweet hour has returned to us again, this hour con- 
 secrated to heart-converse, tell me, as you do ever at 
 twilight, exactly what is passing around us now ; it seems 
 to me that I can better follow you in all your avocations 
 during the remainder of this evening." 
 
 She whom he addressed was a lovely impersonation 
 of a happy wife and mother, her brow unshaded by care, 
 and her eyes wearing that beaming look of contentment, 
 which humanity, even with its birthright of sorrow, 
 sometimes, spite of sorrow wears. She was our Sybil of 
 old, save that her form was rounder, and though from 
 her step had departed somewhat of its lightness, the quiet 
 dignity which pervaded every movement made up for 
 that lost grace of extreme youth. 
 
 " Would you have me tell the story as usual, in my 
 own way, Richard, or would you prefer the more stately 
 measure of the rounded periods which one sees in 
 print?" 
 
 16*
 
 370 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " Tell me it as you choose ; I never tire of listening 
 to you." 
 
 That earnest tone of truth, though said with the small- 
 est possible degree of gallantry, told at once that all the 
 romance of love still lingered about them, and the soft 
 blush which it brought to Sybil's face indicated plainly 
 that a kind word from him, Avas still prized beyond any- 
 thing that the rest of the world might say. 
 
 "Well," she answered, "as the boofcs say, It is a 
 cold and stormy night ; the rain descends in torrents ; 
 the inmates of a certain pleasant home feel neither the 
 rain nor the cold, for God has given them a good shelter. 
 Upon the hearth glows a brilliant fire, illumining Avith- 
 out lamp-light, the remotest corner of the apartment. 
 Not that the room is very large, but it is just the size 
 for comfort. A rich carpet, upon Avhich crimson flowers 
 predominate, covers the floor, and crimson curtains shade 
 the Avindows, shutting out the dreariness of the night, 
 yet not quite shutting in the comfort, for the. passer-by, 
 should there be any, would say, how pleasant it must 
 be Avithin. There are sofas, and couches, and lounges 
 enough, and straight-backed chairs for people Avho are 
 opposed to modern innoA T ations, are scattered about : 
 there is a small bookcase on one side of the room Avhere 
 Grecian sages stand side by side Avith a questionable 
 looking Mother Goose, and where, lying irreverently 
 upon the back of the immortal Homer's Avorks, reclines 
 a certain unsatisfied Jack Horner bound in indestruc- 
 tible cloth! Then in one corner of the room, upon 
 Avhich are A\ r ritten the invisible letters, ' /Sacred to tJie 
 Children 1 are a Noah's ark and a box of ninepins, Avhilo 
 in niches opposite are busts of Shakspeare and Dante,
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 37 1 
 
 too much regarded as household gods to be sent into 
 banishment in the best parlor. Besides these, there is 
 a round table upon which stand a basket of delicate 
 needlework, a book with a mark between the leaves, 
 and a child's porcelain slate. Near the fire sits a man, 
 a noble man forsooth, with a high white brow, upon 
 which intellect is written ; his dark hair is mixed with 
 silver, a token that he has met and walked with trouble, 
 yet there is such a look of content upon his face, his 
 form is so unbent, his whole aspect so strikingly superior 
 to that of other men" 
 
 " Sybil, shut your imaginary book at once." 
 
 " By no means ; let me tell my story without inter- 
 ruption, so strikingly superior to that of other men, 
 that one wonders where and when he met with and 
 walked with trouble." 
 
 " You forget his blindness." 
 
 " No, we, the book-makers do not forget his blindness, 
 but if it makes no difference to him, it makes none what- 
 ever to us / we rather are drawn to him the more, for 
 this very fact." 
 
 Her voice was toned to unutterable tenderness as she 
 said these last words, and Vernon half arose as though 
 to clasp his arms around her, but she playfully told him 
 to be seated, and not interrupt the narrative as it was 
 not nearly completed. 
 
 " Just opposite to the last mentioned individual," she 
 continued, " is a woman who loves him, and who loved 
 him even before she knew it herself for years and years. 
 She was fair once they say, and may be so now, but the 
 knowledge of it only affects her as far as it cMiablc-s her 
 to see with what a gratified look, he, of tho easy chair
 
 37^ Vernon Grove. 
 
 yonder, hears that she is pleasant to look upon for she 
 only lives for him and his." 
 
 Again Vernon's arms were unclasped, while he uttered 
 a beseeching " Come, Sybil," but again she requested him 
 with a dignity worthy of another Fadladeen to be quiet 
 and hear the conclusion. 
 
 " To proceed ; on the floor, hi a very undignified 
 posture, I am sorry to say, with his head turned towards 
 the fire, and holding up a book of pictures to the light, 
 h'es the household pet, a boy resembling him of the 
 superb presence before mentioned, as a secondary rain- 
 bow resembles the first. His marked thirst for know- 
 ledge bespeaks an intelligence beyond his years, and 
 gives promise of a distinguished career. As he numbers 
 to-day his third year, he is privileged to retain his recum- 
 bent posture, until broken from his dream of distinction 
 by the entrance of his nurse, who will presently appear 
 to put him ingloriously to bed." 
 
 A bright smile which was beautiful to behold flitted 
 over the face of the blind man. He was proud, and 
 justly so, of his boy, whom Sybil had so playfully described. 
 
 " Just before the fire," continued Sybil, " sits Ruth, 
 the daughter of the house, gazing in deep thought into 
 the glowing embers as though she were reading a more 
 interesting story there than that told by her lady mother. 
 Her eyes are blue, the image of the maternal eyes, save 
 that their azure is a thought deeper, but she has her 
 father's dark wavy hair ; at this moment Ruth is in a 
 reverie so profound, that not even the mention of her 
 name can rouse her from her dreamy state." 
 
 " Of what are you thinking Ruth ?" said Vernon, this 
 time interrupting Sybil unrebuked.
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 373 
 
 The child, thus aroused, answered, but before we 
 hear the sound of her voice, we, the writer and reader, 
 must pause awhile over her briefly told history. 
 
 Ruth Vernon was a thoughtful creature, and being 
 six years older than her little brother, she was the self- 
 constituted guardian of the child. Having no companions 
 but her father and mother, she had learned the trick of 
 dignity, and in their quiet country home was already 
 advanced to offices of trust in the household. Her sober 
 demeanor had early rendered her an acceptable guide 
 to her father, and she would sit for hours listening to 
 the conversation of her parents, with an absorbing 
 interest which seemed strange to those who did not 
 know her peculiar bent of character, and the circum- 
 stances in which she had been placed. 
 
 There was one being in the world to whose happiness 
 she was almost necessary, and this was the blind child 
 of Robert and Isabel Clayton, and although her parents 
 missed her sadly in her absence, they often sacrificed 
 their own feelings to the comfort of her poor afflicted 
 cousin, and allowed Ruth to make stated visits to the 
 city. From one of these visits she had just returned 
 when Sybil was so playfully describing the inmates of 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 There was a close sympathy between the cousins 
 arising partly from the fact that Ruth understood, from 
 long attendance upon her father, the peculiar habits of 
 the blind, and knew better how to interest and amuse 
 her than any other of her young companions ; and Eva 
 soon learned to recognize her step and rushed to meet 
 her when she heard her voice. Another reason, perhaps, 
 for this growing attachment was, that to her to whom
 
 374 Vernon Grove. 
 
 toys were useless, books became doubly dear, and Ruth 
 never wearied of reading volume after volume to the 
 attentive and interested child. 
 
 The household at Mr. Clayton's luxurious home is a 
 changed one since last we saw it, each and all feeling the 
 impress of the blind child's gentle and lovely character. 
 God sometimes seems to create mortals who are almost 
 sinless from birth, rare instances of inborn goodness as 
 an example for us to copy, and nearly angelic was Eva's 
 patient endurance of her peculiar trials. Isabel's unre- 
 flecting and selfish character had become changed under 
 her gentle influence, and she had learned to love her 
 blind child with a passionate fondness which we often 
 see in mothers whose children are deformed or diseased. 
 The gaiety of the outer world \vas now to her only as a 
 remembered dream, and to devise plans for Eva's amuse- 
 ment, to gaze for hours upon her singular beauty, and 
 to wonder what would be her destiny in the long years 
 of the future, was her sole occupation. Gradually, how- 
 ever, as the child increased in years, the character of 
 Isabel's care became changed. A tutor was employed 
 who devoted himself to Eva in order that she might learn 
 the alphabet of the blind, and every little tale which she 
 read herself or listened to, seemed to the reflecting child 
 to point to some moral which was especially addressed 
 to herself. From this came a longing to be useful, and 
 Isabel was gradually forced to become a party to her 
 plans for clothing and feeding the hungry poor, while 
 Eva never seemed happier than when, with her eyes 
 darkened alike to the beauty of heaven and earth, she 
 visited with her mother the abodes of poverty and wretch- 
 edness, until at last the latter became interested herself
 
 Vernon Grove. 375 
 
 in their cause, and learned to minister with judgment to 
 their wants. 
 
 When the blow first fell upon Clayton, the terrible 
 truth that the child was blind, that he, the fastidious 
 worshipper of only what was perfect and unblemished in 
 creation, was the victim of so terrible a judgment, he 
 was like one bereft of his senses, cursing his destiny and 
 finding fault even with Providence for this unthought-of 
 affliction. He ordered all the bright and costly prepa- 
 rations which had been made for the child to be taken 
 away ; he seldom invited a guest to cross his threshold, 
 and the house was as silent as though in readiness for 
 some funeral rite, while the disappointed man shut him- 
 self up in the solitude of his own apartment as though 
 mourning the dead. But such an utter abandonment to 
 selfish grief could not continue for ever, he merged into 
 the business man, the man of the world once more; 
 walked out with a proud air among his associates, and 
 tried with renewed efforts to live down his terrible 
 affliction. Deeper and deeper he plunged into business, 
 forgetting in the day his peculiar trials, but the night 
 came when he turned to that gloomy home and to the 
 conviction that he must remember. 
 
 And the child won even him at last. God seemed to 
 have sent her as a messenger to soften his heart, to turn 
 him from self-worship, and to teach him to live for 
 others. 
 
 As long as the nursery regime was in existence, Clay- 
 ton could easily shun the presence of his child, and lie 
 avoided her as a sight which gave him inexpressible pain, 
 so different was she from other children, so helpless and 
 yet so uncomplaining, but when that time had passed,
 
 376 Vernon Grove. 
 
 and when those sweet lips had learned that precious word 
 " father" and the little arms wound themselves cares- . 
 singly around her mother's neck, while she asked coax- 
 ingly to be taken into the absent one's presence, Isabel 
 ventured to bring the unconscious offender into that 
 father's sight. 
 
 Clayton was a hard man, wasting none of his sympa- 
 thies upon objects of compassion, and at first he turned 
 away from that angel-like face, and busying himself with 
 books and papers pretended not to see her pretty ways ; 
 but children are obtrusive and persevering, and this child 
 soon learned to know when another was in the room 
 beside that gentle mother, and climbing around his knees 
 or leaning her sweet face against him as she sat at his 
 feet, she at last won him from his books to watch her. 
 
 One day, it was a marked day in that household, 
 Isabel went from the room where they w r ere, and left 
 Clayton and his child together. Eva, then three years 
 old, and somewhat accustomed to localities, after group- 
 ing about in vain for her mother, suddenly turned to 
 Clayton as he sat regarding her simply to see what she 
 would do next, and extending her arms cried out, as if 
 beseeching protection in that one all-prevailing burden 
 of prayer, "father /" It was a sound strangely matured 
 for those infant lips, but it had become familiar by being 
 the daily and hourly lesson of her mother. From that 
 instant the man's whole nature turned to love and pity, 
 and raising the little one in his arms, he soothed her with 
 gentle words and caresses until she fell back asleep upon 
 his shoulder. 
 
 After that period the father and child were as one. 
 Clayton became a child once more for her sake, and con-
 
 Vernon Grove. 
 
 377 
 
 stituted himself her guardian, her companion, her friend. 
 To Isabel, towards whom in the violence of his grief and 
 disappointment he had been cold and unloving, he 
 returned once more to what he had ever been before that 
 episode in their hitherto calm life, and a smile came once 
 more to her lips and color to her faded cheek. No 
 longer endeavoring to find, hi the excitements of business 
 a compensation for his want of interest in his home, he 
 longed for the day to end which would bring him into 
 the presence of those two who awaited him, and with 
 some fresh contrivance to amuse the helpless one, some 
 new budget of simple books, he met their words of loving 
 welcome. 
 
 And thus Clayton felt himself a changed man ; he had 
 another object besides the accumulation of wealth and 
 show, nor was that wealth and show appreciated by those 
 who loved him and whom he loved so tenderly. The 
 one had overcome her passion for display, the other had 
 never seen the brilliant appendages which surrounded 
 her, and it mattered little in her estimation whether 
 glittering jewels clasped her arms and decked her bosom, 
 or if they were unadorned in their own graceful sim- 
 plicity. Gently was he led on from one act of forbear- 
 ance to another, and earnestly did he try to hide his 
 faults of character from his child, for she had an ideal in 
 her mind of what he was, and it became his aim to liv> 
 up to it, and in so trying, it is not to 1e wondered at 
 that he was successful. 
 
 "We each have a mission assigned to us in our pil- 
 grimage if we would but view the purposes of life aright, 
 and it was hers to improve his character, simply by the 
 example which unconsciously she set.
 
 378 Vernon Grove. 
 
 Dr. Bailey himself was no oculist, but not long after 
 Eva's birth he brought with him a friend who was one, 
 to pronounce upon the case, and from a few words which 
 he had said, scarcely intended, however, to give her 
 parents hope for any change in the child's condition, 
 Clayton never entirely relinquished the idea that sight 
 might eventually be hers. 
 
 "In the course of years when she can nerve herself to 
 bear the trial," said the oculist, " an operation could be 
 performed which might result in giving her sight, but it 
 must necessarily be a very painful one, and she will 
 require a strong will and an unflinching courage in order 
 to be able to endure it, and even then the practitioner 
 may not be successful. Were the child mine, I would 
 almost rather let her remain as she is, than raise hopes 
 which in the end may be crushed with disappointment." 
 
 From Clayton's mind, we have said, these words never 
 entirely faded, and Isabel, too timid to dwell upon them 
 for fear of a disappointment in the end, left the whole 
 matter to his responsibility, and as the child grew in 
 years and so early developed great decision of character, 
 Clayton gradually revealed to her the hopes and fears 
 of the oculist. His plan was to let her become accus- 
 tomed to the idea, to set some fixed time for the trial, 
 and then to leave the result to a higher power. At first 
 Eva shrank from the thought as one too terrible to be 
 endured ; the bodily pain which she knew that she must 
 meet and bear frightened her; then gradually as her 
 father had hoped, the anticipation became familiar to 
 her, and when he fondly dwelt upon a brilliant result 
 rather than upon the darker side which the physician 
 had been so careful not to omit, she promised to think
 
 Vernon Grove. 379 
 
 seriously upon the subject, and to let him know when, if 
 ever, she could submit to the trying ordeal. 
 
 The little cousins had many an earnest conversation 
 upon the subject, and Eva had solemnly exacted a pro- 
 mise from Ruth that she would be present, if the time 
 should ever arrive, to cheer and comfort her. 
 
 Ruth had just entered her ninth and Eva her eleventh 
 year, when the latter felt that to please her father, whom 
 she loved with an all-absorbing devotion, and to set the 
 matter at rest for ever, she would endure for his sake 
 the long-talked-of trial. Now that the time had really 
 arrived, it was astonishing to see how differently differ- 
 ent characters were impressed and affected by the 
 thought of a ciisis so fraught with pain and uncertainty ; 
 they underwent a change which made them strangers to 
 themselves. Thus Isabel, who in contemplation of the 
 event had ever been irresolute and timid, now stood by, 
 ready to answer to any call for assistance, her cheeks 
 pale, indeed, but her whole tone and manner calculated 
 to inspire the blind child with confidence ; while Clayton, 
 dreading what he had most advocated, fled away from 
 the scene, far from sight or sound of suffering. And to 
 Eva, who was most concerned, the contemplated opera- 
 tion, as far as outward appearances could be judged, 
 brought no terror, and her sweet low voice which said 
 simply, "father, I am ready nowf betrayed no weak 
 tremor in its utterance. They were simple words 
 enough, but the secret of their calmness lay in the fact 
 that they had been preceded by days and hours of 
 prayer. 
 
 Rough Dr. Bailey, softer than usual, held that little 
 head with its glossy waves of hair to keep it steady, but
 
 380 Vernon Grove. 
 
 it trembled far less than he did, for, having watched 
 Eva from her infancy, he had learned to love her, and 
 was intensely interested in the result of the experiment 
 which he had himself advocated. Xear Eva, and a very 
 important personage in the group, stood Ruth, true to 
 her promise, holding her cousin's hand, and bidding her 
 take courage, and that all would end well. 
 
 "Patience," said the operator softly, "a pang, and 
 half the suffei-ing will be over." 
 
 The little hand which held Ruth's was clasped more 
 tightly, and a groan smote upon the listeners' ears. The 
 room reeled with the heroic child, a faintness came over 
 her, but she was soon herself again. 
 
 " Would you not rather wait a day or two for the 
 other eye to be operated upon?" said the kind physician; 
 " a week hence or a month will answer." 
 
 "No," answered Eva, with quiet self-possession, "let 
 it be done to-day, now ; I do not think that I could bear 
 the suspense, and it would please my father to know 
 that it was all over." 
 
 Love sustained her ; another sigh, a groan, and it was 
 finished. 
 
 Then came the bandages, the darkened room, the 
 stillness, the repose for one whose nerves, all unstrung 
 by the reaction, needed rest, but often those little cou- 
 sinly hands were clasped together in a pressure which 
 spoke more love than many words. 
 
 The physicians only allowed Clayton to enter Eva's 
 room at intervals, for his presence always excited her, 
 and turned the conversation to that one absorbing topic, 
 the hope, that in the end, she would have her sight ; 
 but though almost banished from her companionship,
 
 Vernon Grove. 381 
 
 he thought but of her, and his business life was entirely 
 forgotten in the intense interest with which he awaited 
 the final result. Isabel could scarcely be reconciled to 
 the suffering which Eva had endured, to end, perhaps, 
 in disappointment she loved her child in her blindness 
 as much as mother could love, and did not see the neces- 
 sity of perchance a fruitless experiment, but still under 
 her restless manner one could see that she, too, looked 
 forward to the finale with trembling anxiety. But even 
 had the termination of that fearful ordeal been what 
 they most dreaded, many a lesson of forbearance had 
 been learned by both in the fortitude displayed by their 
 child, her patience and trust, and her calm resignation 
 to the will of Providence, whatever that will might be. 
 
 A look from a physician has often more weight than 
 many words spoken by others, and Ruth first interpreted 
 the expression on the oculist's face which led them to 
 hope for a happy result when the hour of decision 
 arrived. The agitation of the parents was -too great 
 for them to remain close to Eva when the final moment 
 of investigation came, and in the little entry which led 
 into Eva's room, they awaited the summons which was 
 to give them joy inexpressible, or a life-long weight of 
 sorrow. They dared not remain within, for fear of disap- 
 pointment ; they dared not be far away, for fear that 
 they might lose the first intelligence that she was blessed 
 with sight. 
 
 Slowly, cautiously, the bandages were removed, those 
 little clasped hands still giving each other courage, for 
 Ruth needed it nearly as much as Eva, and her heart- 
 beats could almost be heard in the silence. That 
 earnest face of Ruth's was a study, as the different
 
 382 Vernon Grove. 
 
 emotions of love, pity, fear, and hope crossed it, as 
 shadows flit across the sky, until at last the end came 
 and she saw, as her eyes sought the physician's face, a 
 broad, cheerful, happy smile. Ruth was a heroine, but 
 there were some circumstances under which it would 
 have been impossible for her to control herself, and 
 this proved one. She thought not of consequences, 
 she only thought of that unceasing prayer which had 
 been breathed by the household for many weeks, and 
 that it Avas granted at length. 
 
 "She will see, she will see," she exclaimed; "Eva, 
 love, do you hear ?" 
 
 The physician gave her a stern look as a rebuke for 
 her indiscretion, but it was too late, Eva had fainted. 
 
 "Ruth is right," said he to the father and mother 
 who had rushed in at that blessed announcement, " but 
 too abrupt ; her cousin and herself are wonderful little 
 women in times of trial and danger, but neither of them 
 are equal to a sudden joy." 
 
 We shall not follow the Claytons through Eva's long 
 and tedious recovery ; it is enough to say that the les- 
 sons that misfortune had taught them were not forgot- 
 ten when prosperity returned, and that they remembered 
 that living for others was a surer means of happiness 
 
 than living entirely for themselves. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Poor little Ruth ! how long is it since we left her 
 looking dreamily into the fire, with her father's question 
 unanswered " Well, Ruth, of what are you thinking?" 
 
 " Sometimes of Eva, who suffered so much pain and 
 was so patient and good (but of her I told you this 
 morning), and sometimes of other things which hap-
 
 Vernon Grove. 383 
 
 pened at uncle Clayton's. Just then, when you spoke 
 to me, I was thinking of a lady, a tall, beautiful lady$ 
 who came sometimes to see us, and whom aunt Isabel 
 called Florence. One day she took me aside, and clasp- 
 ing her arms around me, she looked a long while in my 
 face. At last she said, ' Ruth, did they ever tell you 
 that though your eyes are blue, their expression is very 
 like that of your father's eyes ?' " 
 
 " ' But he is blind,' I said. 
 
 " ' I mean they resemble his as they were years ago,' 
 she said, and then she sighed so sadly that I knew deep 
 down in her heart she had some trouble that gave her 
 pain. 
 
 " ' You always come here alone,' I said, ' have you no 
 one to take care of you, no little children waiting for 
 you at home ?' 
 
 " ' God help me ; I have no one no one !' she said. 
 
 " Then she wept bitterly, and though it may have 
 been wrong, I asked her if she was sorry for anything 
 she had done. 
 
 " ' God grant that you may never have sorrow like 
 mine,' she said, and then she put me away from her, and 
 left me." 
 
 Ere Ruth had entirely finished her simple narration, 
 Sybil despatched her upon some trivial errand from the 
 room. 
 
 " You have sent Ruth away, Sybil," said Yernon, 
 rising and approaching her, " will you tell me why, 
 dearest ? I was quite interested in her remarks, and 
 would have liked to question her farther." 
 
 Sybil was mortal ; it is of hearts that we are telling, 
 and hers was not above a momentary weakness.
 
 384 Vernon Grove. 
 
 " I feared," she said softly, laying her hand caressingly 
 upon Vernon's arm, " that if she had said anything fur- 
 ther, your pity might have led you to regret." 
 
 " I have, indeed, sometimes to pity, but nothing to 
 regret^ he said tenderly. " I have known no sorrow, 
 no pang of disappointment, since the tender green of the 
 ivy mingled its bright foliage with the weather-beaten 
 leaves." 
 
 Gently he raised her hands and laid them about his 
 neck until they almost clasped each other, then winding 
 his arms around her, he bent down and kissed her brow. 
 
 We would like to leave them there twining still, like 
 the ivy to which he had likened them, but in truth we 
 cannot, for there is a little heart in the room throbbing 
 passionately with a feeling of jealousy, without knowing 
 for whom, or why, or wherefore. The pet of the house- 
 hold, with his elbows on the carpet and his chin on his 
 hands, is seriously regarding his parents ; then approach- 
 ing them he attempts to clasp them both in his arms, 
 failing in which, he piteously demands that he, too, 
 might be spared a caress. 
 
 His demand being satisfied, our story is ended. 
 
 THE EXD.
 
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 LIFE OF HUGH MILLER, 
 
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 KNAVES AND FOOLS; 
 
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 THE COTTAGE COOK BOOK; 
 
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 THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 
 
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 EROS AND ANTEROS; 
 
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 DOESTICKS' LETTERS. 
 
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 PLU-RI-BUS-TAH. 
 
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 THE ELEPHANT CLUB. 
 
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 NOTHING TO SAY. 
 
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