"Oh! no, no!" she replied. "Nothing, nothing; but I felt to-day weary and sad, and I could not restrain my tears when this quiet hour came on.”

"Esther, my own child," said Mrs. Springfield, "are you disappointed? Is your heart wounded ?"

She rallied instantly. The very thought that any one, even her aunt, should suppose that she had been disappointed in her hopes, roused her. The thought that any one should suppose, even for a moment, that De Vane was capable of wounding her, appealed to her spirit in a way that made it impossible she could weep any longer.

"No, aunt," she said, "neither disappointed nor wounded. I was oppressed with a sense of loneliness, which you will easily comprehend.'

"I do comprehend it, my child," she said. "But I can not express my admiration of the nobleness of Mr. De Vane in returning to Virginia as he has done, under a sense of duty which alone could take him away. I comprehend his feelings too, for I saw him when you did not, under circumstances which revealed his heart quite as plainly as if he had told me all he felt."

Mrs. Springfield then related to Esther what had taken place when De Vane called on Saturday morning. His emphatic statement of his purpose to return to the town in October and fix his residence there, his earnest utterance of his views of life, and his standing in fixed and unconscious gaze upon her portrait. Esther felt the light of morning already spreading over her soul, and once more embracing her aunt, she kissed her tenderly.

Mrs. Springfield had acted with as much tact as delicacy. She saw Esther's depression. She well knew why she sought solitude as the evening came on, and she wished to assure her of her sympathy, without wounding her sensibility, or drawing from her any disclosures which she might not freely wish to make. She knew that she could

trust every thing to Esther, but she knew too what a relief it would be to her to know that in herself she had not only a friend who would counsel in the affairs of every-day life, but who could sympathize with those emotions which are of far higher moment with all properly-organized natures than any or all of those things which the world calls real.

Mrs. Springfield left her alone and descended to the library, where Esther joined her before a great while, without any visible traces of the recent tears. Waring came in, and was warmly welcomed. All were pleased to see him, and with that subtle perception of proprieties which belongs to fine natures, he exerted himself to be cheerful, and to make others so. Without any false delicacy, he went directly to the subject which he knew really was the one of interest with his friends.

'Well, Mrs. Springfield," he said, "I am deserted and desolate; my Fidus Achates has gone."

"Really gone!" said Mrs. Springfield. "We shall all sympathize with you, for we found his society very agreeable."

"Yes," said Mr. Springfield, "I became very strongly attached to Mr. De Vane; his fine mind and noble nature refreshed me. Do you suppose that he will carry out his purpose and made this his residence ?”

"It is his purpose, undoubtedly, to do so," said Waring. "He is perfectly settled in it, and his firmness is great when he once takes a position. There is so much of the heroic in him, that resistance only rouses his strength. But he is about to pass through a very severe ordeal. Returning to the home of his youth, early impressions may be revivified. The slumbering pride of ancestral state and "consideration may be awakened, and the sense of duty which is so powerful in him may bring him to yield his wishes to those of General De Vane. Still, his wishes are so strong, his attach

ment to this place so deep, and his love of independence so uncompromising, that I have great hope of his coming back to us."

"General De Vane," said Mr. Springfield, “is, I have learned, extreme in his aristocratic tastes and opinions. Perhaps few, even in Virginia, carry them so far, and I can hardly suppose that he will consent for his son to leave him, and especially to come here and enter upon a laborious profession."

"Yes," said Waring, "it is very much to be feared that he will never give his consent to that. He is very wealthy, and there is no necessity for any exertion on the part of his son; but he will never induce George De Vane to lead the life of an idle man. A more powerful organization for working I never saw. I mean, I never knew any man whose taste for occupation was stronger, or whose scorn for indolence was more intense. No wealth could tempt him to drift through life, and his love of his race is such, that a stiff, formal social system can never hold him. We feel his absence, and yet I'll venture to say that there are some two or three laboring men in the town who fancy that no one can regret him as they do-Hobbs, for instance, the blacksmith. I think it quite likely that tears may have washed away some of the coal-dust from his face when De Vane bade him good-by, for he did call at his shop to shake hands with him on Saturday."

"He's a noble fellow," said Mr. Springfield.

"I trust that he will become a Christian," said Mrs. Springfield. "A large heart like his would be very happy if full of love to the Lord, who gave his own life for him." "I regret," said Mr. Springfield, "that he is skeptical." "He can not be said to be so,” said Waring, “in the common acceptation of that word. He is full of doubt, but his earnest nature illumines the very clouds which surround

him, and he is too warm to content himself with the frigid rationalism which satisfies some minds."

"I rejoice to hear you say so," said Mr. Springfield.

"I regret,” said Waring, "more than I can express, that De Vane is not a Christian. He is just now bewildered with the mists of neology. The Germans, by their luminous vapors, have involved him, but his strong, earnest nature will make its way out of them. I love him so much, that, while I can not claim him as a believer, I do claim him as a disciple of the principles of Christianity. He reminds me of Abou Ben Abhem in the exquisite poem of Leigh Hunt.

"I have not seen it," said Mr. Springfield.

"Do repeat the lines for us, Mr. Waring," said Mrs. Springfield.

Esther had said nothing, but her eyes were fixed on Waring, as her aunt made the request, with eager interest. He observed it, and looking at her, uttered the lines:

"ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said:

'What writest thou?' The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered: The names of those who love the Lord.'
'And is mine one?' said Abou. Nay, not so,'

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still, and said: 'I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.'

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest."

"It is exquisite !" exclaimed Esther.

"Perfectly beautiful!" said Mrs. Springfield. "We are obliged to you for making us acquainted with it.”

"And for giving us such hope of our young friend Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Springfield.

"It reminds me," said Esther," of our discussion as to the comparative merits of poetry and the arts. If Mr. De Vane were here, I think he would insist that the poem which you have just repeated does much toward establishing his proposition in favor of the power of poetical description.'

Waring smiled. "I had no idea," said he, "that I was furnishing an argument against myself."

"But you must admit," said Esther, "that it is a powerful one. Could any painting, or piece of sculpture, teach the beautiful lesson which the poem does, so exquisitely and so briefly ?"

"I shall decline all argument upon that point," said Waring, "until I can bring in my allies, Miss Godolphin and Mr. Clarendon."

"That is yielding the field," said Esther, "for I am all alone; at least, the only ally who was with me in our late contest is absent."

"I shall report to him," said Waring, "in my first letter, how gallantly you maintained the position.' "And do give him our best wishes," said Mr. Springfield.

“And assure him of our regrets at his absence," said Mrs. Springfield.

"I shall make him very happy in doing so," said Waring.

Have you seen Miss Godolphin very lately ?" asked Esther.

"Not since I met her here," said Waring. "I think that Mrs. Habersham is about to go to her place in the country."