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The stranger raised his hat and said : "Permit me to ask your 
 name? " " Salome Owen. And yours, sir, is — " 
 " Ulpian Gray. " Page lo. 
 
 — Vaskii. 
 
VA S H T I 
 
 or 
 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART 
 
 By AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON 
 
 (Augusta J. Bvatns) 
 
 Author of " Bevilah," " Macaria," " Infelice," 
 "St. Elmo," "Inez," etci, etc.. 
 
 " There is nothing a man knows, in grief or in sin 
 half 60 bitter as to think, what I might have been." 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers 
 Jt ^ JL NEW YORK ^ jt jit 
 
TO TBI BONORBD UEUOST OF tfT 
 
 3ISe[oved jFatber, 
 
 WBOCK DBATB BAS RETARDED THE COUPLBTXON OF A WOBV. 
 
 WBICH, m THE BBOINNISO, WAS BLESSED 
 
 WITB BIS APPROVAL, 
 
 I REVERENTLY DEDICATE THIS BOOK, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 " Every man has his own style, as he has his own nose ; and 
 it is neither polite nor Christian to rally an honest man about 
 his nose, however singular it may be. How can I help it that 
 my style is not different ? That there is no affectation in it, I 
 am very certain." Lessing. 
 
 " Yea, I take myself to witness. 
 That I have loved no darkness. 
 Sophisticated no truth. 
 Nursed no delusion. 
 Allowed no fear." 
 
 Matthew Arnold. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 CHAPTBE I. 
 
 I CAN hear the sullen, savage roar of the breakers, if I do 
 not see them, and my pretty painted bark — expectation — is 
 bearing down helplessly upon them. Perhaps the unwelcome 
 will not come to-day. What then? I presume I should not 
 care; and yet, I am curious to see him, — anxious to know 
 what sort of person will henceforth rule the house, and go in 
 and out here as master. Of course the pleasant, peaceful days 
 are at an end, for men always make din and strife in a 
 household, — at least my father did, and he is the only one I 
 know much about. But, after all, why borrow trouble ? — the 
 interloper may never come." 
 
 The girl stood on tiptoe, shading her eyes with one hand, 
 and peering eagerly down the winding road which stretched at 
 right angles to the avenue, and over the hills, on towards the 
 neighboring town. No moving speck was visible ; and, with 
 a sigh of relief, she sank back on the grassy mound and re- 
 sumed the perusal of her book. Above and around her spread 
 the wide branches of an aged apple-tree, feathered thickly 
 with pearly petals, which the wind tossed hither and thither 
 and drifted over the bermuda, as' restless tides strew pink- 
 chambered shells on sloping strands ; and down through the 
 flowery limbs streamed the waning March sun, throwing 
 grotesque shadows on the sward and golden ripples over the 
 face and figure of the young lounger. A few yards distant 
 a row of whitewashed bee-hives extended along the western 
 side of the garden-wall, where perched a peacock whose rain- 
 bow hues were burnished by the slanting rays that smote like 
 
 9 
 
10 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 flame the narrow pane of glass which constituted a window in 
 each hive and permitted investigation of the tireless workers 
 within. The afternoon was almost spent; the air, losing its 
 balmy noon breath, grew chill with the approach of dew, 
 and the figure under the apple-itree shivered slightly, and, 
 closing her book, di-ew her scarlet shawl around her shoulders 
 and leaned her dimpled chin on her knee. 
 
 Sixteen years had ripened and rounded the girlish form, 
 and given to her countenance that indefinable charm which 
 marks the timid hovering between careless, frolicsome youth,, 
 and calmly conscious womanhood; while perfect health 
 rouged the polished cheeks and vermillioned the thin lipSj 
 whose outlines sharply indexed more of decision than amiabil- 
 ity of character. 
 
 .There were hints of brown in the heavy mass of waveless 
 dusky hair, that was elaborately braided and coiled around 
 the well turned head, and certain amber rays suggestive of 
 topaz and gold flashed out now and then in the dark-hazel iris 
 of the large eyes, lending them an eldritch and baleful glow. 
 Fresh as the overhanging apple-blooms, but immobile as if 
 carved from pearl,^ — perhaps it was just such a face as hers 
 that fronted Jason, amid the clustering boughs of Colchian 
 rhododendrons, when first he sought old Metes' prescient 
 daughter, — the maiden face of magical Medea, innocent as yet 
 of murder, sacrilege, fratricide, and plunder, — eloquent of all 
 possibilities of purity and peace, but vaguely adumbrating all 
 conceivable disquietude and guilt: 
 
 The hushed expectancy of the fair young countenance had 
 given place to a dreamy languor, and the dark lashes drooped 
 heavily, when a long shadow fell upon the grass, and simulta- 
 neously the peacock sounded its shrill alarum. Eising quickly 
 the girl found herself face to face with one upon whose 
 features she had never looked before, and for a moment each 
 eyed the other searchingly. The stranger raised his hat, and 
 inclining his head slightly, said, — 
 
 " Permit me to ask your name ? " 
 
 " Salome Qwen. And yours, sir, is — " 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. H 
 
 " Ulpian Grey." 
 
 For a few seconds neither spoke; but the man smiled, and 
 the girl bit her nnder-lip and frowned. 
 
 " Are you the miller's daughter ? " 
 
 "I am the miller's daughter; and you are the master of 
 Grassmere." 
 
 "It seems that I come home like Eip Van Winkle, or 
 Ulysses, unknown, unweleomed, — unlike the latter, — even by 
 a dog." 
 
 " Where is your sister ? " 
 
 "Not having seen her for five years, I am unable to an- 
 swer." 
 
 " She went to town two hours ago, to meet you." 
 
 " Then, after all, I am expected ; but pray by what route — 
 balloon or telegraph ? " 
 
 "Miss Jane went to the railroad depot, but thought it 
 possible you might not arrive to-day, and said she would 
 attend a meeting at the church, if you failed to come. I pre- 
 sume she missed you in the crowd. Sir, wiU you walk into 
 the house?" 
 
 Perhaps he did not hear the question, and certainly he did 
 not heed it, amid the clamorous recollections that rushed upon 
 him as he gazed earnestly over the lawn, down the avenue, 
 and up at the ivy-mantled front of the old brick homestead. 
 Thinking it might impress him as ludicrous or ofiBcious that 
 she should invite him to enter and take possession of his own 
 establishment, Salome reddened and compressed her lips. Ap- 
 parently forgetful of her presence, he stood with his hat in 
 his hand, noting the changes that time had wrought: the 
 growth of venerable trees and favorite shrubs, the crumbling 
 of fences, the gathering moss on the sun-dial, and the 
 lichen stains upon two marble vases that held scarlet verbena 
 on either side of the broad stone steps. 
 
 His close-fitting travelling suit of gray showed the muscu- 
 lar, well-developed form of a man of medium size, whose very 
 erect carriage enhanced his height and invested him with a 
 commanding air; while the unusual breadth of his chest and 
 
12 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 shoulders seemed to indicate that life had called him to ath- 
 letic out-door pursuits, rather than the dun and dusty at- 
 mosphere of a sedentary, cloistered career. 
 
 There are subtle countenances that baffle the dainty stipple 
 and line tracery of time, refusing to become mere tablets, 
 mere fleshy intaglios of the past, whereon every curious 
 stranger may spell out the bygone, and, counting their foot- 
 prints, cast up the number of, engraving years. Thus it hap- 
 pened that if Salome had not known from the family Bible 
 that this man was almost thirty-five, her eager scrutiny of his 
 features would have discovered little concerning his age, and 
 still less concerning his character. Exposure to the winds and 
 heat of tropic regions had darkened and sallowed the com- 
 plexion, which his clear deep blue eyes and light brown hair 
 declared was originally of Saxon fairness; in proof whereof, 
 when he drew off one glove and lifted his hand it seemed as if 
 the marble fingers of one statue were laid against the bronze 
 cheek of another. 
 
 Looking intently at this grave yet benignant countenance, 
 full of serenity, because calmly conscious of its power, the girl 
 set her teeth and ground her heel into the velvet turf, for 
 frangas non flectes was written on his smooth, broad brow, 
 and she felt fiercely rebellious as some fiery, free creature of 
 the Kamse, when first confronted with the bit and trappings 
 of him who will henceforth bridle and tame the desert-bred. 
 
 Waking from his brief reverie, the stranger turned and 
 extended his hand, saying, in tones as low and sweet as a 
 woman's, — . 
 
 " Will you not welcome a wanderer back to his home ? " 
 
 She gave him the tips of her fingers, but the " Imp of the 
 Perverse " dictated her answer, — 
 
 " As you saw fit to compare yourself, a few moments since, 
 to certain celebrated absentees, I am constrained to tell you 
 that I happen to be neither Penelope nor Gretchen, nor yet 
 the illustrious dog referred to." 
 
 He smiled good-humoredly, and replied, — 
 
 " I am not very sure that there is not a spice of Dame Van 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART, 13 
 
 Winkle somewhere in your nature. True, we are strangers, 
 but I believe you are niy sister's adopted child, and I hope 
 you are glad to see her brother at home once more. Jane is a 
 dear kind link, who should make us at least good friends ; for, 
 if you are attached to her you will in time learn to like me." 
 
 " I doubt it, — seeing that you resemble Miss Jane about as 
 nearly as I do the Grand Lama of Larissa, or the idol Bhadri- 
 nath. But, sir, although it is not my office to welcome you, 
 I presume you have not forgotten the front door, and once 
 more I ask, Will you walk in and make yourself at home in 
 your own house ? " 
 
 As she led the way to the steps, the arched gate at the end 
 of the avenue swung open, a carriage entered, and Salome 
 retreated to her own room, leaving unwitnessed the happy 
 meeting between an aged, infirm sister, and longrabsent 
 brother. 
 
 Locking the door to secure herself from intrusion, she drew 
 a low rocking-chair to the hearth, where smouldered the 
 embers of a dying fire, and dropping her face in her palms, 
 stared abstractedly at the ashes. As she swayed slowly to and 
 fro, her lips parted and closed, her brows bent from their 
 customary curves of beauty, and half inaudibly she mut- 
 tered, — 
 
 " The sceptre is departing from Judah. My rule is well 
 nigh ended ; the interregnum has been brief,- and the old 
 dynasty reigns once more. Just what I dreaded from the 
 hour I heard he was coming home. I shall be reduced to a 
 mere cipher, and made to realize my utter dependence, — and 
 the iron will soon enter my soul. We paupers are adepts in 
 the art of reading the countenance, and I have looked at this 
 TJlpian Grey long enough to know that I might as well bom- 
 bard Gibraltar with boiled peas as hope to conquer one of his 
 whims or alter one of his purposes. There will be bitterness 
 and strife between us. I shall wish him in his grave a 
 thousand times before it closes over him, — and he, unless he 
 is too good, will hate me cordially. ' I cannot and will not 
 give up all my hopes and expectations^ without a long, fierce 
 struggle." 
 
14 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 Salome Owen was the eldest of five children, who, by the 
 death of both parents, had been thrown penniless upon the 
 world, and found a temporary asylum in the county poor- 
 house. Her mother she remembered merely as a feeble, frac- 
 tious invalid ; and her father, who had long been employed as 
 superintendent of large mills belonging to Miss Jane Grey, 
 had, after years of reckless intemperance, ended his wretched 
 career in a fit of mania a potu. His death occurred at a 
 season when Miss Grey was confined to her bed by an attack 
 of rheumatism, which rendered her a cripple for the remainder 
 of her days; but the first hours of her convalescence were 
 spent in devising plans for the education and maintenance of 
 his helpless orphans. In the dusty, cheerless yard of the poor, 
 house she had found the little group huddled under a mul- 
 berry tree one hot July noon; and, sending the two younger 
 children to the orphan asylum in a neighboring town, she had 
 apprenticed one boy to a worthy carpenter, another to an 
 eminent horticulturist in a distant State; and Salome, the 
 handsomest and brightest of the flock, she carried to her own 
 home as an adopted child. Here, for four years, the girl had 
 lived in peace and luxurious ease, surrounded by all the ele- 
 gances and refining associations which though not inherent 
 in are at the command of wealth; and so rapidly and grace- 
 fully had she fitted herself into the new social niche, that the 
 dark and stormy morning of her life had become only a dim 
 and hideous recollection, that rarely lifted its hated visage 
 above the smooth and shining surface of the happy present. 
 
 Fortuitous circumstances constitute the moulds that shape 
 the majority of human lives, and the hasty impress of an 
 accident is too often regarded as the relentless decree of all- 
 ordaining fate; while to the philosophic anthropologist it 
 might furnish matter for curious speculation whether, if At- 
 tila and Alaric had chanced to find themselves the pampered 
 sons of some merchant prince, — some Eothschild or Peabody 
 of the fifth century, — ^their campaigns had not been purely 
 fiscal and bloodless, limited to the leaves of a ledger, while the 
 names of Goth and Hun had never crystallized into synonyms 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 15 
 
 of havoc and ruin; or had Timour been trained to cabbage- 
 raising and vine-dressing, whether he would not have lived in 
 history as the great horticulturist of Kesth, or the Diocletian 
 of Samarcand, rather than the Tartar tyrant and conqueror 
 of the East? How many possible Howards have swung at 
 Tyburn? How many canonized and haloed heads have barely 
 escaped the doom of BrinviHiers, and the tender mercies of 
 Carnifex? 
 
 Analogous to that wonderful Gulf Stream, once a myth and 
 still a mystery, the strange current of human existence, four 
 score and ten years long, bears each and all of us with a 
 strong, steady sweep away from the tropic lands of sunny> 
 childhood, enamelled with verdure and gaudy with bloom, 
 through the temperate regions of manhood and womanhood, 
 fruitful and harvest-hued, on to the frigid, lonely shores of 
 dreary old age, snow-crowned and ice- veined; and individual 
 destinies seem to resemble the tangled drift on those broad 
 bounding gulf-billows, driven hither and thither, strewn on 
 barren beaches, scattered over bleaching coral crags, stranded 
 upon blue bergs, — precious germs from all climes and 
 classes; some to be scorched under equatorial heats; some to 
 perish by polar perils ; a few to take root and flourish and 
 triTlmph, building imperishable land-marks; and many to 
 stagnate in the long, inglorious rest of a Sargasso Sea. 
 
 For all helpless human waifs in this surging ocean of time, 
 there is comfort in the knowledge that the fiercest storms toss 
 their drift highest ; and one of these apparently savage waves 
 of adversity had swept Salome Owen safely to an isle of 
 palms and peace, where, under the. fostering rays of prosper- 
 ity, the selfish and sordid elements of her character found 
 rapid development. 
 
 In affectionate natures, family ties serve as cords to strangle 
 selfishness; for, in large domestic circles, each member con- 
 tributes a moiety to swell the good of the whole — silently en- 
 dures some trial, makes some sacrifice, shares some sympathy 
 and sunshine, hoards some grief and gloom, and had Salome 
 remained with her brothers and sisters, their continual claims 
 
16 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 on her time and attention would have healthfully diverted 
 tjjoughts that had long centred solely in self. Finding that 
 fortune had temporarily sheathed in velvet the goad of neces- 
 sity, the girl's aspirations soared no higher than the mainte- 
 nance of her present easy and luxurious position, as a petted 
 dependent on the affection and bounty of a weak but generous 
 and lonely old lady. Having no other object near, upon which 
 to lavish the love and caresses that were stored in her heart,. 
 Miss Jane had turned fondly to Salome, and so earnestly en- 
 deavored to brighten her life, that the latter felt assured she 
 was selected as the heiress of that house and estate where she 
 had dwelt so happily; and thus sanguine concerning her 
 future prospects, the strong will of the girl completely domi- 
 nated the feebler and failing one of her benefactress, through 
 whose fingers the reins of government slipped so gradually, 
 that she was unconscious of her virtual abdication. 
 . From this pleasant dream of a handsome heritage and life- 
 long plenty, Salome had been rudely aroused by the unwel-' 
 come tidings that a young half-brother of Miss Jane was 
 coming to reside under her roof ; and prophetic fear whispered 
 that the stranger would contest and divide her dominion. A 
 surgeon in the United States navy, he had been absent for five 
 years in distant seas, and only resigned his commission in con- 
 sequence of letters which informed him of the feeble condition 
 of his only surviving relative. Those who have eaten the 
 bread of charity learn to interpret countenances with an un- 
 erring facility that eclipses the vaunted skill of Lavater, and 
 the girl's brief inspection of the face which would henceforth 
 confront her daily, yielded little to dispel her gloomy forebod- 
 ings. The sound of the tea-bell terminated her reverie, and 
 rising, she walked slowly to the dining-room, throwing her 
 head as erect as possible, and compressing her mouth like some 
 gladiator summoned to the fatal arena of the Coliseum. 
 
 The dining-room was large and airy, with lofty wide win- 
 dows, and neatly papered walls, where in numerous old-fash- 
 ioned and quaintly carved frames hung the ancestral portraits 
 of the family. Although one window was open, and the mild 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 17 
 
 air laden with the perfumed breath of spring, a bright wood 
 fire flashed on the hearth, near which Miss Jane eat in her 
 large, cushioned rocking-chair, resting her swollen slippered 
 feet on a velvet stool, while her silver-mounted crutches 
 leaned against the arm of her chair. An ugly and very dimin- 
 utive brown terrier snarled and frisked on the rug, torment- 
 ing a staid and aged black cat, who occasionally arched her 
 back and showed her teeth; and Dr. Grey stood leaning over 
 his sister's chair, smoothing the soft grizzled locks that clus- 
 tered under the rich lace border of her cap. He was talking of 
 other days, — those of his boyhood, when, kneeling by that 
 hearth, she had pasted his kites, found strings for his tops, 
 made bags for his marbles, or bound up his bleeding hands, 
 bruised in boyish sports ; and, while he read from the fresher 
 page of his memory the blessed juvenile annals long since 
 effaced from hers, a happy smile lighted her withered face, 
 and she put up one thin hand to pat the brown and bearded 
 cheek which nearly touched her head. To the pretty young 
 thing who had paused on the threshold, watching what passed, 
 it seemed a peaceful picture, cosy and complete, needing no 
 adjuncts, defying intruders; but Miss Jane caught a glimpse 
 of the shrinking figure, and beckoned her to the fire-place. 
 
 " Salome, come shake hands with my gailor-boy, and teU 
 him how glad we are to have his sunburnt face once more 
 among us. TJlpian, this is my dear child Salome, who makes 
 noise and sunshine enough in an otherwise dark and silent 
 dreary house. Why, children, don't stand bowing at each 
 other, like foreign ministers at court ! TJlpian, you are to be 
 a brother to that child; so go and kiss her like a Christian, 
 and let us have no more state and ceremony." 
 
 "Sans ceremonie we introduced ourselves this afternoon, 
 under the apple-tree, and I presume Salome will accept the 
 assurance of my friendly intentions and fraternal regard, and 
 decline the seal which only long acquaintance and perfect con- 
 fidence could induce her to permit. Notwithstanding the very 
 evident fact that she is not entirely overwhelmed with delight 
 at my return, I gratefully acknowledge my indebtedness to one 
 3 
 
18 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 who has so largely contributed to my sister's happiness, and 
 shall avail myself of every opportunity to prove my apprecia- 
 tion of her devotion." 
 
 Dr* Grey stepped forward, took Salome's hand, and touched 
 it lightly with his lips, while the grave dignity of his manner 
 forbade the thought that affectation of gallantry or idle persi- 
 flage suggested the -words or action. 
 
 Disarmed by the quiet courtesy which she felt she had not 
 merited, the girl's ready wit and nimbly obedient tongue for 
 once proved treacherous; and, conscious that the flush was 
 deepening on cheek and brow, she moved to the oval table in 
 the centre of the floor, and seated herself behind the massive 
 silver urn. 
 
 " Ulpian, take your place yonder, at the foot, and excuse my 
 absence from the table this first evening of your return. I 
 always have my meals here, close to the fire, and Salome pre- 
 sides in my place. Child, put no cream in his tea, but a boun- 
 tiful share of sugar. You see, my boy, I have not grown too 
 old to recollect your whims." 
 
 As he obeyed her, Salome was preparing to pour out the 
 tea ; but, catching his eye, she paused, and Dr. Grey bowed his 
 head on his hand, aiid solemnly and impressively asked a 
 blessing, and offered up fervent thanks for the family re- 
 union. In the somewhat fragmentary discourse that ensued 
 between brother and sister the orphan took no part ; and, a 
 half hour later, when the little party removed to the library 
 and established themselves comfortably for the evening, 
 Salome drew her chair close to the lamp, and, under pretence 
 of examining a book of engravings, covertly studied the fea- 
 tures and mien of the new-comer. 
 
 His quiet, low-toned conversation was of other lands and 
 distant nations, and, while there was an entire absence of that 
 ostentatious braggardism and dropsical egotism which unfort- 
 unately attacks the majority of travellers,, his descriptions of 
 foreign scenery were so graceful and brilliant, that despite 
 her ungracious determination and premeditated dislike, she 
 became a fascinated listener; and, more than once, found her- 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 19 
 
 self leaning forward to catch his words. Her own vivid fancy 
 travelled with him over the lakes and isles, ' temples and 
 palaces, he had visited ; and, when the clock struck eleven, and 
 a brief silence succeeded, she started as from some delightful 
 dream. 
 
 " Janet, shall we have prayers, or have I already kept you 
 up too late ? " 
 
 Dr. Grey stooped and pressed his lips to his sister's wrinkled 
 forehead, and her voice faltered slightly, as she answered, — 
 
 " It is never too late to thank God for all his goodness, espe- 
 cially in bringing my dear boy safely back to me. Salome, get 
 the large Bible from the cushion in the parlor." 
 
 As the orphan placed the book in Dr. Grey's hand it opened 
 at the record of births, where on the wide page appeared only 
 the name of TJlpian Grey, and from the leaves fluttered a 
 small bow of blue ribbon. 
 
 He picked it up, and, considering it merely a book-mark, 
 would have replaced it, but Miss Jane exclaimed, — 
 
 " It is the blue knot that fastens that child's collar. Give 
 it to her. She lost it yesterday, and has searched the house 
 for it. How came it in that old Bible, which I am sure has 
 not been used for fifteen years ? " 
 
 Whatever solution of the mystery Salome might have 
 deigned to offer, remained unuttered, for Dr. Grey kindly 
 obviated the necessity of a reply by requesting her to bring 
 him an additional candle from an adjoining room; and the 
 superfluous celerity with which she started on the errand 
 called a twinkle to his eye and a half-smothered smile to his 
 lips. She felt assured that he was thoroughly cognizant of the 
 curiosity which had prompted her researches among the fam- 
 ily records,- and inferred that he had either no vanity to be 
 flattered by such trifles, or was dowered with too much gener- 
 osity to evince any gratification at the discovery of an inter- 
 est she would have vehemently disclaimed. 
 
 It was the first time she had ever bowed before the family 
 altar, and, notwithstanding her avowed aversion to "Puri- 
 tanic ceremonials and Phariiaical practices," she was unei- 
 
20 UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 peetedly awed and deeply impressed by the solemnity with 
 which he conducted the brief services ; while, despite her prej- 
 udice, his grave courtesy toward her, and the subdued tender- 
 ness that mai'ked his treatment of his sister, commanded her 
 involuntary respect. When she stood before the mirror in her 
 own room, unbraiding her heavy hair, a dissatisfied expression 
 robbed her features of half their loveliness, and discontent 
 ploughed distorting lines about the scarlet lips which mut- 
 tered, — 
 
 "I wonder if, in one of his evil fits, my father sold and 
 signed me away to Satan ? I certainly am bon gre mal gre in 
 bondage to him; for, from my inmost heart I hate 'good, 
 pious, sanctified souls,' such as that marble man upstairs, who 
 has come back to usurp my kingdom, and lord it over this 
 heritage. After to-day a new regime. The potter's hands are 
 fair and shapely, courteous and deft, but potter's hands never- 
 theless. Tough kneading he shall find it, and stiffer clay 
 than ever yet was moulded, or my name is not Salome Owen. 
 After all, how much better are we than the lower beasts of 
 prey? In the race for riches there is but one alternative, — 
 to devour, or be devoured; consequently that was an imme- 
 morial and well tested rule in the warfare that commenced 
 when Adam and Eve found themselves, shut out of Eden. 
 * Each for himself,' etc., etc., etc. Since I must ex necessitate 
 prey or be preyed upon, I shall waste no time in deliberation." 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 When fifty-two years old, Daniel Grey amassed a hand- 
 some fortune by speculating in certain gold and coal mine 
 stocks, which not only relieved him from the necessity of daily 
 toil in his dusty counting-room, but elevated him to that more 
 than Braminical caste, dubbed in Mammon-parlance — capital- 
 ists; whose decrees outweigh legislative statutes, and by feel- 
 ing the pulse of stock-boards and all financial corporations, 
 regulate the fiscal currents of the State. A few months sub- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 21 
 
 sequent to this sudden accession of wealth, his meek and 
 devoted wife — ^who had patiently shared all the trials and 
 hardships of his early impecunious career, and brightened an 
 humble home which boasted no treasure comparable to her 
 loving, unselfish heart, — was summoned to the enjoyment of 
 a heritage beyond the stars; and Daniel Grey, capitalist, 
 found himself a florid handsome widower, with two children, 
 Enoch and Jane, to remind him continually of the pale wife 
 over whose quiet ashes rose a costly mausoleum, where rare 
 exotics nodded to each other across gilded slab and sculptured 
 angels. That he profoundly mourned his loss no charitable 
 mind could doubt, notwithstanding the obstinate fact that 
 ere the violets had bloomed a twelvemonth over the dead 
 mother of his children he had provided them with one who 
 certainly bore her name, unsurped her precious privileges, 
 walked in her footsteps, but wofully failed to fill her place. 
 
 Mrs. Daniel Grey, scarcely the senior of the step-daughter 
 whose lips most reluctantly framed the sacred word " mother," 
 was a fresh fair young thing, whose ideas of marriage ex- 
 tended no further than diamonds, white satin, reception cards, 
 and bridal presents; and whose regard for her worthy hus- 
 band sought no surer basis than his bank-stock and insurance 
 dividends. Dainty and bright, in tasteful and costly apparel, 
 the pretty child-wife flitted up and down in his house and 
 over the serene surface of his life, touching no feeling of his 
 nature so deeply as that colossal parvenu vanity which exulted 
 in the possession of a graceful walking announcement of his 
 ability to clothe in fine fabrics and expensive jewels. 
 
 Perhaps the mildew that stained the ghastly gaunt angela 
 who kept guard over the dust of the dead wife, extended yet 
 further than the silent territory over which sexton and mat- 
 tock reigned, for one dreary December night, instead of nest- 
 ling for a post-prandial nap among the velvet cushions of his 
 luxurious parlor, Daniel Grey, capitalist, slept his last sleep 
 In a high-backed, comfortless chair before his desk, where the 
 confidential clerk found him next morning, with his rigid 
 icy 'fing»>rs thmst between the leaves of his check-book. 
 
22 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 According to the old Arab proverb, — 
 
 " The black camel named Death kraeeleth once at each door. 
 And a mortal must mount to return nevermore." 
 
 And, past all peradventure, having borne away one member of 
 the household, the " Last Carrier " from force of habit has- 
 tens to perform the same thankless service for the remainder ; 
 — thus ere summer sunshine streamed on the husband's 
 grave, another yawned at its side, and a wreathed and fluted 
 shaft shot up close to his mausoleum, to tell sympathizing 
 friends and careless strangers that the second wife of Daniel 
 Grey had been snatched away in the morning of life. 
 
 Her infant son TJlpian was committed to the tender guard- 
 ianship of his maternal grandmother, in whose hands he re- 
 mained until the close of his fourth year, when her death 
 necessitated his return to the home of his only relatives, 
 Enoch and Jane. At the request of his sister, the former had 
 sold the elegant new residence in a fashionable quarter of the 
 town, and removed to the old homestead and farm, hallowed 
 by reminiscences of their mother, and invested with the magic 
 attractions that early association weaves about the spots fre- 
 quented in youth. 
 
 Manifesting, even in boyhood, an unconquerable repugnance 
 not only to curriculum, but the monotonous routine of mer- 
 cantile pursuits, Enoch sullenly forswore stock-jobbing and 
 finance, and declared his intention of indulging his rural 
 tastes and becoming a farmer. Fine cattle and poultry of all 
 kinds, heavy wheat-crops, and well-stored corn-cribs engrossed 
 his thoughts, to the entire exclusion of abstract aesthetic specu- 
 lation, of operatic music, and Pre-Eaphaelitism ; while the 
 sight of one of his silky short-horned Ayrshires yielded him 
 infinitely more pleasure than the possession of all Eosa Bon- 
 heur's ideals could possibly have done, and the soft billowy 
 stretch of his favorite clover-meadow was worth all the canvas 
 that Claude or Poussin had ever colored. While Enoch had 
 cordially hated his fair blue-eyed young step-mother, not from 
 any personal or individual grounds of grievance, but simply 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 23 
 
 and solely because she dared to occupy the household niche, 
 sanctified once and forever by his own meek gentle-toned 
 mother, he nevertheless tenderly loved her baby-boy; and as 
 TJlpian grew to manhood he became the idol, at whose shrine 
 the brother and sister offered their pure and most intense 
 affection. 
 
 Neither had married, and when the youngest of the house- 
 hold band completed his studies, and decided to accept a 
 naval appointment, the consternation and grief which the 
 announcement produced at the homestead, proved how essen- 
 tial the presence of the half-brother had become to the hap- 
 piness of the sedate stolid Enoch, and equable unselfish 
 Jane. But the desire to travel subordinated all other senti- 
 ments in Ulpian's nature, and he eagerly embarked for a 
 cruise, from which he was recalled by tidings of the death of 
 his brother. 
 
 A brief sojourn at the homestead had sufiBeed to arrange 
 the affairs of the carefully-managed estate, and the young 
 surgeon returned to his post aboard ship, in distant oriental 
 seas. The increasing infirmity of his sister had finally in- 
 duced the resignation of his cherished commission, and 
 brought the man of thirty-five back to his home, where the 
 "old familiar faces" seemed to have vanished forever; and, 
 in lieu thereof, legions of cold-eyed strangers carelessly 
 confronted him. 
 
 Emancipated from all restraint, and early consigned to the 
 guidance of his boyish caprices and immature judgment, TJl- 
 pian Grey's character had unfolded itself under eircumstinces 
 peculiarly favorable for the fostering of selfishness and the 
 development of idiosyncrasies. As a plant, unmolested bj 
 man and beast, germinates, expands, and freely 
 and completely manifests all its inherent tendencies, whether 
 detrimental or beneficial to humanity, so Dr. Grey's matured 
 manhood was no distorted or discolored result of repeated 
 educational experiments, but a thoroughly normal efiBorescence 
 of an unbiassed healthful nature. 
 
 Habits of unwavering application and searching study, eon- 
 ir4cted in collegiate cloisters, tightened their grasp upon him, 
 
24 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 as he wandered away from the qukt precincts of Alma Mater 
 and into the crowded noisy campus of life; and even the 
 gregarious and convivial manners prevalent aboard ship failed 
 to divert his attention from the prosecution of scientific re- 
 searches, or to retard his rapid progress in classical scholar- 
 ship. 
 
 For the treasures of knowledge thus patiently and inde- 
 fatigably garnered through a series of years, travel proved an 
 invaluable polyglot commentator, analyzing, comparing, anno- 
 tating, and italicizing, and had converted his mind into a vast, 
 systematically arranged pictorial encyclopsedia of miscellane- 
 ous lore, embellished with delicate etchings, noble engravings, 
 and gorgeous illuminations, — a thesaurus where savants might 
 seek successfully for data, and whence artists could derive 
 grand types, and pure tender coloring. 
 
 Eeverent and loving appteciation of the intrinsically " true, 
 good, and beautiful " was part of the homage that his nature 
 rendered to its Creator, and instead of flowering into a morbid 
 and maudlin sentimentality which craves low-browed, long 
 straight-nosed, undraped statuettes in every nook and corner, 
 — or dwarfs the soul and pins it to the surplice of some 
 theqlogic dogmata claiming infallibility— -or coflSns the in- 
 tellect in cramped, shallow, psychological categories, — it bore 
 fruit in a wide-eyed, large-hearted, liberal-minded eclecticism, 
 which, waging no crusade against the various Saladins 0/ 
 modern systems, quietly possessed itself of the really valu- 
 able elements that constitute the basis of every ethical, es- 
 thetic, and scientific creed, which has for any length of time 
 levied black-mail on the credulity of mankind. 
 
 Breadth of intellectual vision promotes moral and emo- 
 tional expansion' — for true catholicity of mind manufactures 
 charity in the heart ; and toleration is the real mesmeric cur- 
 rent which brings the extremes of humanity en rapport, — is 
 the veritable ubiquitous Samaritan always provided with wine 
 and oil for the bruised and helpless, who are strewn along the 
 highway of life; and those who penetrated beyond the polished 
 surface of Dr. Grey's character, realized that no tinge of cyni- 
 cism, no affectation of contempt for his country and country* 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 25 
 
 men lurked in his heart, while erudition and foreign sojourn-, 
 ing seemed only to hare warmed and intensified his sympathy 
 with all noble aims — his compassion for all grovelling ones. 
 
 That his compulsory return to the uneventful routine of 
 life at the. homestead, involved a sacrifice which he would 
 gladly have avoided, he did not attempt to deny; but having 
 invested a large amount of earnest, vigorous faith in the final 
 conservatism of that much-abused monster which the seditious 
 army of the Disappointed anathematize as " Bad Luck," he 
 went to work contentedly in this new sphere of action, and 
 waited patiently and trustfully for the slow grinding of the 
 great mill of Compensation, into whose huge hopper Fate had 
 unceremoniously poured all his plans. 
 
 His advent produced a very decided sensation not only in 
 the quiet neighborhood in which the farm was located, but 
 also in' the adjacent town where the memory of Daniel Grey's 
 meteoric ascent to pecuniosity still lingered in the minds of 
 the oldest citizens, and pleasantly paved the way for a cor- 
 dial reception of the fortunate son who inherited not only his 
 mother's comeliness but his father's hoarded wealth. 
 
 Living in the middle of the nineteenth centuryj and in a 
 hemisphere completely antipodal to that in which Utopia 
 was situated, or " Bensalem " dreamed of, the appearance of a 
 good-looking, well-educated, affluent bachelor could not fail to 
 stir all gossipdom to its dregs ; and society, ever tenderly con- 
 cerned about the individual affairs of its prominent members, 
 was all agog — busily arranging for the ci-devant United 
 States Surgeon a programme, than which he would sooner 
 liave undertaken the feats of Samson or the Avatars of 
 Vishnu. 
 
 His published card, announcing the fact that he had per- 
 manently located in the city and was a patient candidate for 
 the privilege of setting fractured limbs and administering 
 medicine, somewhat dashed the expectations of many who con- 
 jected that the Grey estate could not possibly be worth the 
 amount so long reputed, or the principal heir would certainly 
 not soil his fingers with pills and plasters, instead of saunter- 
 ing and dawdling with librettos, lorgnettes, meerschaums. 
 
26 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and curiously-carved canes cut in the Hebrides or the juBglea 
 of Java. 
 
 Over the door Of that oflSce, where the Angel of Death had 
 smitten his father thirty-five years before, a new sign swung 
 in the breeze, and showed the citizens the name of "Dr. 
 TJlpian Grey. OfiBce hours from nine to ten, and from two 
 to three." 
 
 The members of the profession called formally to wel- 
 come him to a share of their annual profits, and collectively 
 gave him a dinner; the "best families" invited him to tea 
 or luncheon, croquet or " German," and thus, having ac- 
 complished his professional and social debut, TJlpian Grey, 
 M.D., henceforth claimed and exercised the privilege of select- 
 ing his associates, and employing his time as inclination 
 prompted. 
 
 In the comprehensive course of study to which he had so 
 long devoted his attention, he had not omitted that im- 
 memorial stereotyped volume — Human Nature — ^which, de- 
 spite the attempted revisions of sages, politicians, and eccle- 
 siastics, remains as immutable as the everlasting hills; print- 
 ing upon the leaves of the youngest century phases of guilt 
 and guilelessness which find their prototypes in the gray dawn 
 of time, when the " morning stars sang together," — ^yea, busy 
 to-day as of yore, slaughtering Abel, stoning Stephen, fret- 
 ting Moses, crucifying Christ. Finding much that was ad- 
 mirable, and more that seemed ignoble, hei gravely and 
 reverently sought to possess himself of the subtle arcana of 
 this marvellous book, rejecting as equally erroneous and un- 
 reliable the magnifying zeal of optimism and the gloomy 
 jaundiced lenses of sneering pessimism, — thoroughly satis- 
 fied that it was a solemn duty, obligatory upon all, to study 
 that complex paradoxical human nature, for the mastery of 
 which Lucifer and Jesus had ceaselessly battled since the day 
 when Adam and Eve were called " to dress and to keep " the 
 Garden by the Euphrates, — ^that heaven-born, heaven-cursed, 
 restless human nature, which now, as then, — 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 27 
 
 " Orasps at the fruitage forbidden. 
 The golden pomegranates of Eden, 
 To quiet its fever and pain.'' 
 
 A few day^ residence under the same roof, and a guarded 
 •bservation of Salome's conduct, suflBced to acquaint Dr. Grey 
 with the ungenerous motives that induced her chagrin at his 
 return; and, without permitting her to suspect that he had so 
 accurately read her character, he endeavored as unobtrusively 
 as possible to bridge by kindness and courtesy the chasm of 
 jealous distrust which divided them. 
 
 Indolent and self-indulgent, she neither brooked dictation, 
 nor gracefully accepted any suggestions at variance with the 
 reigning whim ; for, since she became an inmate of Miss Jane's 
 hospitable home, existence had been a mere dreamy, aimless 
 succession of golden dawns and scarlet-curtained sunsets— a 
 slow, quiet lapsing of weeks into months, — an almost stagnant 
 stream curled by no eddies, freighted with few aspirations, 
 bearing no drift. 
 
 The circumstances and associations of her early life had de- 
 stroyed her faith in abstract nobility of character; self-ab- 
 negation she neither comprehended nor deemed possible; and 
 of a stern, innate moral heroism she was utterly sceptical; 
 consequently a delicately graduated scale of selfishness was the 
 sole balance by which she was wont to weigh men and women. 
 
 Her irregular method of study and desultory reading had 
 rather enervated than strengthened a mind naturally clear 
 and vigorous, and left its acquisitions in a confuseff and kalei- 
 doscopic mass, bordering upon intellectual salmagundi. 
 
 One warm afternoon, on his returns from town, as Dr. Grey 
 ascended the steps he noticed Salome reclining on a bamboo 
 settee at the western end of the gallery, where the sunshine 
 was hot and glaring, unobstructed by the thin leafy screen of 
 vines that drooped from column to column on the southern 
 and eastern sides of the building. If conscious of his ap- 
 proach she vouchsafed not the slightest intimation of it, and 
 when he stood beside her she remained so immovable that he 
 might have imagined her asleep but for the lambent light 
 
23 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 which rayed out from eyes that seemed intently numbering 
 the soft fluttering young leaves on a ^distant clump of ehn 
 trees, which made a lace-like tracery of golden glimmer and 
 quivering shadow on the purple-headed clover at their feet. 
 
 Her fair but long slender fingers carelessly held a book 
 that threatened to slip from their light relaxing grasp, and 
 compressing his lips in order to smother a smile under his 
 heavy moustache, Dr. Grey stooped and put his hand on hei 
 plump white wrist, where the blue veins were running riot. 
 
 " So young, — ^yet cataleptic ! Unfortunate, indeed," he 
 murmured. 
 
 She shook off his touch, and instantly sat erect. 
 
 " I should be glad to know what you mean." 
 
 " I have an admirable, nay, I venture to add, an almost in- 
 fallible prescription for catalepsy, which has cured two chronic 
 and apparently hopeless cases, and it will afford me great 
 pleasure to try the third experiment upon you, since you 
 seem pitiably in want of a remedy." 
 
 " Thank you. Were I as free from all other ills that ' flesh 
 is heir to,' as I certainly am of the taint of catalepsy, I might 
 indeed congratulate myself upon an immunity which would 
 obviate the dire necessity of ever meeting a physician." 
 
 " Are you sure that you sufficiently understand the symp- 
 toms, to recognize them unerringly ? " 
 
 The rose tint in her cheeks deepened to scarlet, as she 
 haughtily drew herself up to her full height, and answered, — 
 
 " Dr. Grey himself is not more sagacious and adroit in de- 
 tecting them; especially when open eyes discover unwelcome 
 and disagreeable objects, which, wishing to avoid, they are 
 still compelled to see. I hope you are satisfied that I com- 
 prehend you." 
 
 " My meaning was not so occult as to justify a doubt upon 
 that subject; and moreover, Salome, lack of astuteness is far 
 from being your greatest defect. My motive should eloquently 
 -plead pardon for my candor, if I venture to tell you that your 
 frequent affectation of unconsciousness of the presence of 
 others, 'is a custom more honored in the breach than the 
 observance,' and may prove prolific of annoyance in coming 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 29 
 
 years; for courtesy constitutes the key-stone in the beautiful 
 arch of social amenities which vaults the temple of Christian 
 virtues. Lest you should take umbrage at my frankness, 
 which ought to assure you of my interest in your happiness 
 and improvement, permit me to remind you of the oriental 
 definition of a faithful friend, that has more pith than verbal 
 polish, — 
 
 " The true friend is not he who holds up Flattery's mirror. 
 In which the face to thy conceit most pleasing hovers ; 
 
 But he who kindly shows thee all thy vices, sirrah 1 
 
 And helps thee mend them ere an enemy discovers." 
 
 Eising, Salome swept him a profound courtesy, and, while 
 her fingers beat a tattoo on the book she held, she watched him 
 with a peculiar sparkle in her eyes, which he had already 
 learned to understand was a beacon flame kindled by intense 
 displeasure. Dr. Grey seated himself, and, taking off his 
 hat, said gently and winningly, as he pushed aside the hair 
 that clustered in brown rings over his forehead, — 
 
 "Here is ample room for both of us. Sit down, and be 
 reasonable; and let me catch a glimpse of the amiable ele- 
 ments which I feel assured must exist somewhere in your 
 nature, notwithstanding your persistent endeavor to conceal 
 them. Your Janus character has hitherto breathed only war 
 — war ; but, my young friend, I earnestly invoke its peaceful 
 phase." 
 
 The kindness of tone and evident sincerity of manner 
 might have disarmed a prejudice better founded than hersj 
 but wrath consumed all scruples, and, recollecting his for- 
 bearance with various former acts of rudeness, she presumed 
 to attempt further aggressions. 
 
 Waving her hand in tacit rejection of the proffered share of 
 the settee, she answered with more emphasis than perspicuity 
 demanded, — 
 
 " Does your reading of the book of Job encourage you to 
 believe that when those self-appointed counsellors — Eliphaz 
 the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naama- 
 thite — returned to their respective homes, they had cause to 
 
3n UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 congratulate themselves upon their cordial welcome to Job's 
 bank of ashes, or felt bountifully repaid for their voluntary 
 mission of advice ? " 
 
 "Unfortunately, no. My study of the record of the man 
 of Uz renders painfully patent that humiliating fact — old as 
 humanity— that sanctity of motive is no coat-of-mail to the 
 luckless few who bravely bear to the hearts of those with 
 whom they associate the unwelcome burden of unflattering 
 truths. Phraseology — definitions— vary with advancing cen- 
 turies, but not so the human impulses they express or explain ; 
 and friendship in the days of Job was the identical ' Mutual 
 Admiration Society,' which at present converts its consistent 
 servile members into Damon and Pythias, but punishes any 
 violation of its canons with hatred dire and inextinguishable. 
 Were I blessed with the genius of Praxiteles or of Angelo, I 
 would chisel and bequeath to the world a noble statue, — typ- 
 ical of that rare, fearless friendship, which, walking through 
 the lazaretto of diseased and morbid natures, bears not honied 
 draughts alone, but scalpel, caustic, and bitter tonics." 
 
 The calm sweetness of voice and mien lent to his words an 
 influence which no amount of gall or satire could hav€ im- 
 parted; and, in the brief silence that ensued, Salome's heart 
 was suddenly smitten with a humiliating consciousness of her 
 childish flippancy, — her utter inferiority to this man, who 
 seemed to walk serenely in a starry plane far beyond the mire 
 where she grovelled. 
 
 Eidicule braced and exaggerated her weaknesses, and the 
 strokes of sarcasm she could adroitly parry ; but for persistent 
 magnanimity she was no match, and recoiled before it like the 
 traditional Fiend at sight of the Santo Sudario. Watching 
 her companion's quiet countenance, she saw a shadow drift 
 over it, betokening neither anger nor scorn, but serious regret ; 
 and involuntarily she drooped her head to avoid the eyes that 
 now turned full upon her. 
 
 Since I became a man, and to some extent capable of dis- 
 criminating with reference to the characters of persons with 
 whom I found myself in contact, I have made and invariably 
 observed one rule of conduct, — ^namely, never to associate with 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 31 
 
 those whom I cannot respect. Ignorance, want of refine- 
 ment, irritability of temper, and even lack of generous im- 
 pulses, J can forgive, when redeemed by candor and stern 
 honesty of purpose; but arrogance, dissimulation, and all-ab- 
 sorbing selfishness I will not tolerate. In you I hoped and ex- 
 pected better qualities than you permit me to find, and I 
 trust you will acquit me of intentional rudeness if I acknowl- 
 edge that you have painfully disappointed me. It was, and 
 sttill is, my earnest wish to befriend and to aid you, — to con- 
 tribute to your happiness, and cordially sympathize in any 
 annoyances thai may surround you; but tiius far you have 
 rendered it impossible for me to esteem you, and while I do 
 not presume that my good opinion is of any importance to 
 you, our present relations compel me to request that our 
 intercourse may in future be characterized by more urbanity 
 than has yet graced it. My sister has been much pained by 
 the feelings with which you evidently regard me, and since 
 you and I are merely guests under her roof, a due deference 
 to her wishes should certainly repress the exhibition of antip- 
 athies towards those whom she loves. It is her earnest 
 desire (as expressed in a conversation which I had with her 
 yesterday) that I should treat you as a young sister ; and, for 
 her sake, I oflEer you once more, and for the last time, my 
 hearty assistance in any department in which I am able to 
 render it." 
 
 " The folds of your flag of truce do not conceal the drawn 
 sword beneath it; and let me tell you, sir, it is very evident 
 that ' demand ' would far better have expressed your purpose 
 than the word ' request.' " 
 
 " At least you should not be surprised if I doubt whether 
 you regard any truce as inviolable, and am inclined to suspect 
 you of latent treachery." 
 
 "Your accusation of dissimulation is unjust, for I have 
 openly, fearlessly manifested my prejudice — ^my aversion." 
 
 "That you dislike me is my misfortune, but that you 
 allow your detestation to generate discord in our small circle 
 is an error which I trust you will endeavor to correct. That I 
 have many faults I shall not attempt to deny; but mutual 
 
22 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 forbearance will provei a mutual blessing. For Jane's sake, 
 shall there not be peace between us ? " 
 
 Standing before her, he looked gravely down into her face, 
 where flush and sparkle had died out, and saw — what she 
 was too proud to confess — that he had partially conquered her 
 waywardness, that she was reluctantly yielding to his influ- 
 ence; but he understood her nature too thoroughly to pause 
 contented with this slight advantage in a contest which ho 
 foresaw must determine the direction of her aims through life. 
 
 " Salome, I am waiting for your decision." 
 
 Her lips stirred twicei but the words they framed were 
 either too haughty or too humble, for she refused them utter- 
 ance ; and, while she deliberated, two tears settled the question 
 by rolling swiftly over her cheeks, and falling upon the cherry 
 ribbon at her throat. 
 
 Accepting it as a tacit signature to his terms of capitula- 
 tion, and satisfied with the result, Dr. Grey forbore to urge 
 verbal assurances. Taking the book from her hand, he said, 
 'pleasantly, — 
 
 " "Are you fond of French ? I frequently find you poring 
 over your grammar." 
 
 " I have never had a teacher, nor have I conquered the con- 
 jugations ; consequently, I know comparatively little about the 
 language." 
 
 "Are you studying it with the intention of familiarizing 
 yourself with French literature, or merely to enable you to 
 translate the few phrases that modern writers sprinkle through 
 novels and essays?" 
 
 "For neither purpose, but simply because it is the court 
 language of the old world ; and, if I should succeed in my hope 
 ,of visiting Europe, I might regret my ignorance of the uni- 
 versally received medium of communication." 
 
 ** Have you, then, no desire to master those noble bursts of 
 eloquence by which Eacine, Bossuet, Fenelon, and Cousin 
 have charmed the intellects of all nations?" 
 
 " None, whatever. I might as well tell you at once, what 
 you will inevitably discover ere long if you condescend to 
 inspect my meagre attainments, that for abstract study I have 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 33 
 
 no more inclination than to fondle some mummy in the 
 crypts of Cyrene, or play ' blind man's buff ' with the corpses 
 in the Morgue. My limited investments of time and 
 thought in intellectual stock have been made solely vrith 
 reference to speedy dividends of most practical and immediate 
 benefits; and knowledge per se^-knowledge which will not 
 pay me handsome interest — has no more value in my eyes 
 than a handful of the dust of those Atures found in the 
 cavern of Ataruipe. Doubtless you think me pitiably be- 
 nighted, and possibly I might find more favor in your sight 
 if I affected a prodigious amount of literary enthusiasm, and 
 boundless admiration for scholarship and erudition; but that 
 would prove too troublesome an imposture, — for I am con- 
 stitutionally, habitually, and premeditatedly lazy." 
 
 She saw a smile lurking under his heavy lashes, and half 
 ambushed in the corners of his mouth ; and, vaguely conscious 
 that she was rendering herself ridiculous, she bit her lip with 
 ill-disguised vexation. 
 
 " Salome, I am afraid that under the garb of a jest you 
 are making me acquainted with a very mournful truth. You 
 have probably never heard of Lessing, — Gotthold Ephraim 
 Lessing." 
 
 " Oh, I am not quite as ignorant as a Pitcairn's Islander ; 
 and I think I have somewhere seen that such a person as 
 Lessing lived at Wolf enbiittel. He once said, * The chase is 
 always worth more than the quarry.' And again, 'Did the 
 Almighty, holding in his right hand Truth, and in his left 
 Search after Truth, deigned to proffer me the one I might 
 prefer, — in all humility, but without hesitation, I should 
 request Search after- Truth.' When you have nothing more 
 important to occupy your attention, give ten minutes' re- 
 flection to his admonition, and perhaps it may declare a divi- 
 dend years hence. Last week I found your algebra on the 
 rug before the library grate, and noticed several sums worked 
 out in pencil on the margin. Are yon fond of mathematics ? " 
 
 " Not that I am aware of." 
 
 " What progress have you made ? " 
 3 
 
34 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "My knowledge of arithmetic is barely sufficient to take 
 me through a brief shopping expedition." 
 
 " Have you no ambition to increase it ? " 
 
 "Dr. Grey, I have no ambition. That 'last infirmity of 
 noble minds ' has never attacked me ; and, folding my hands, 
 I chant ceaselessly to my soul, 'Take, thine ease, eat, drink, 
 and be merry.' The rapture of the mathematician, who bows 
 before the shrine of his favorite science, is to my dull intellect 
 as incomprehensible as the jargon of metaphysics or the mys- 
 teries wrapped up in Pali cerements. Equations, conic sec- 
 tions, differential calculus, constitute a skull and cross-bones 
 to which I allow as wide a berth as possible." 
 
 The weary dissatisfied expression of her large, luminous 
 eyes, belied the sneer in her voice and the curl of her thin 
 lip, and it cost her an effort to answer his next question. 
 
 " Will you tell me what rule you have adopted for the dis- 
 tribution of your time, and the government of your life ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; you are heartily welcome to it: 'Yet a little 
 slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep.' Laissez nous 
 faire. Moreover, Dr. Grey, if you will couiteously lend me 
 your ears, I will favor you with a still more felicitous exposi- 
 tion of my invaluable organon." 
 
 Stooping suddenly, she raised from the floor a small volume 
 which had been concealed by her dress, and, as it opened at a 
 page stained with the juice of a purple convolvulus, she smiled 
 defiantly, and read with almost scornful emphasis,—^ 
 
 " ' Ah, why 
 
 Should life all labor be ? 
 Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, 
 
 And in a little while our lips are dumb. 
 Let us alone. What is it that will last ? 
 
 All things are taken from us, and become 
 Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. 
 
 Let us alone. What pleasure can we have 
 To war with evil ? Is there any peace 
 
 In ever climbing up the climbing wave ? 
 
 All things have rest, and ripen towards the grave 
 In silence ; ripen, fall, and cease : 
 Give us long rest or death ; dark death er dreamful ease. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 35 
 
 There, Dr. Grey, you have my creed and method, — Laissez 
 nous faire." 
 
 With a degree of gravity that trenched on sternnese, he 
 bowed, and answered, — 
 
 " So he it. I might insist that the closing lines of * IJlysses ' 
 nobly refute all the numbing heresy of the ' Lotos Eaters ' — 
 
 ' But somcsthing ere the end, 
 Some work of noble note may yet be done. 
 That which we are, we are ; 
 One equal templer of heroic hearts, 
 Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will 
 To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. 
 
 But I would not rouse you from a lethargy, which, knowing it 
 to be fatal to all hopes of usefulness, you still deliberately pre- 
 fer. Take care, however, lest you bury the one original talent 
 so deep that you ^fail to unearth it when the Master demands 
 it in the final day of restitution. I have questioned you con- 
 cerning your studies, because I desired and intended to offer 
 my services as tutor, while you prosecuted mathematics and 
 the languages; but I forbear to suggest a course so evidently 
 distasteful to you. Unless I conipletely misjudge your char- 
 acter, I fear the day is not distant, when, haunted by ghosts 
 of strangled opportunities, you will realize the solemn and 
 painful truth, that, — 
 
 'There- is nothing a man knows, in grief or in sin. 
 Half so bitter as to think, WJiat I might have been t ' " 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 "SAiOMifl, you look so weary that I must insist upon 
 relieving you. Give me the book and run out for a breath of 
 firesh air — a glimpse of blue sky." 
 
 Dr. Grey laid his hand on the volume, but the girl shook 
 her head and pushed aside his fingers. 
 
 " I am not at all tired, and even if I were it would make 
 
36 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 no difference. Miss Jane desires me to read this sermon 
 aloud, and I shall finish it." 
 
 The invalid, who had been confined to her bed for many 
 days by a severe attack of rheumatism, partially raised herself 
 on one elbow, and said, — 
 
 "My dear, give him the book, while you take a little exer- 
 cise. You have been pent up here long enough, and,- more- 
 over, I want to talk to Ulpian about some business matters. 
 Don't look so sullen, my child; it makes no difference who 
 reads the sermon to me. Kiss me, and run out on the lawn." 
 
 The orphan relinquished chair and book, but there was no 
 relaxation of her bent brows, and neither warmth nor linger- 
 ing pressure in the firm, hardly drawn lips, which lightly 
 touched the old lady's sallow, wrinkled cheek. When she had 
 left the room, closing the door after her with more force than 
 was requisite to bolt it securely. Miss Jane sighed heavily, and 
 turned to her brother. 
 
 " Po6r thing ! She is so jealous of you ; and it distresses me 
 to see that no friendship grows up between you, as I hoped 
 and believed would be the case. If you would only notice her 
 a little more I think you might win her over." 
 
 " Leave it to time, Janet. I ' have piped unto her and she 
 would not dance ; I have mourned unto her, and she has not 
 lamented,' — and concessions only feed her waywardness. If 
 there be a residuum of good sense and proper feeling in her 
 nature, they will assert themselves after a while; if not, all 
 extraneous influences are futile. I will resume the reading, 
 if agreeable to you." 
 
 Moody and rebellious, Salome stood for some moments on 
 the threshold of the front door, staring vacantly out over the 
 lawn; then, snatching her hat from a hook in the hall, she 
 swiftly crossed the grounds, climbed over a low lattice fence 
 at the foot of the declivity, and followed a worn but neglected 
 path leading into the adjoining forest. 
 
 The sanctity of the Sabbath afternoon rested like a benison 
 over the silent glades, where sunshine made golden roads along 
 the smooth brown pine straw, and glinted on the purple flags 
 that fluttered in the mild west wind. Even the melancholy 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 37 
 
 plaint of sad-eyed dun doves was hushed, as they slowly swung 
 in the swaying pine-tops ; and two young lambs, neglected by 
 the wandering flock, lay sleeping quietly, with their snowy 
 heads pillowed on cluBtering violets, — far from the fold, for- 
 gotten by their mothers, at the mercy of strolling dogs, 
 watched only by the Great Shepherd. 
 
 Salome's rapid pace soon placed a mile between her and the 
 fence that bounded the lawn ; and, pushing through the dense 
 undergrowth which betokened the proximity of a stream, she 
 stood ere long on the margin of a wide pond which supplied 
 the broad, shining sheet of beryl water that poured over the 
 rocky dam, close to the large irregular building- called " Grey's 
 JVlill." 
 
 Piles of lumber were bleaching in the sunshine, but the 
 machinery was at rest, the workmen were all absent, and not 
 a sound broke the stillness, save the steady, monotonous chant 
 of the water leaping down into the race, where a thousand 
 foam-flakes danced along towards the huge wheels, and died 
 on the soft green mosses and lush-creepers that stole down to 
 bathe in the sparkling wavelets. The knotted roots of an old 
 beech tree furnished a resting-place, and Salome sat down 
 and leaned her head against the scarred trunk, where light- 
 ning had once girdled and partially destroyed it, — ^leaving 
 one-half the branches leafy, the remainder scorched and bar- 
 ren. 
 
 Overhanging willows darkened the edges of the pond; and, 
 in the centre, one tall, venerable cypress, lonely as some palm 
 in the desert, rose like a gray shaft tufted with a fine fringe 
 of fresh green; and occasional clusters of broad, shining 
 leaves, spread themselves on the surface of the water, cradling 
 large, snowy lilies, whose gold-powdered stamens trembled 
 ceaselessly. Now and then a trout leaped up, as if for a 
 hreath of May air, and fell back into the circle that widened 
 until it touched either bank; and not far from a cow who 
 stood knee-deep in water, browsing on a wild rose that clam- 
 bered over the willows to peep at its pink image in the pond, a 
 proud pair of gray geese convoyed a brood of yellow young- 
 lings that dived and breasted the ripples with evideiit glee. 
 
38 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 With her arms clasped around her knees, Salome sat watch- 
 ing the blue tendrils of snioke that rose from a clump of elms 
 beyond the mill and curled lazily upward until they lost them- 
 selves in air; and, though the arching elm boughs hid mossy 
 roof and chimney, she nevertheless felt that she was looking 
 on the old house where she was born, and where ten dreary 
 years of sorrow and humiliation had embittered and perverted 
 her nature. 
 
 Those elms had seen her mother die, had heard her father's 
 drunken revelry, and bent their aged heads to listen on that 
 wild wintry night, when in blood-curdling curses his soul rent 
 itself from the degraded tenement of clay. 'Apparently peace 
 brooded over earth, sky, and water ; but to that lonely figure 
 under the riven beech, every object within the range of vision 
 babbled horrible tales of the early years, and memory pointed 
 to a corner of the lumber-shed adjoining the mill where she 
 had often secreted herself to avoid her father's brutality, — al- 
 ways keeping her head in the moonshine, because she dreaded 
 the darkness inside, which childish fancy filled with ghostly 
 groups. She hated the place as she hated the past, and this 
 was the second time she had visited it since the day that con- 
 signed her to the poor-house; for it was impossible for her 
 to look at the pond without recollecting one dark passage in 
 her life, known only to God and herself. To-day she recalled, 
 with startling vividness a dusky, star-lit June evening, when, 
 maddened by an unmerited and unusually severe punishment 
 inflicted by her father, she had resolved to drown herself, and 
 find peace in the mud at the bottom of the mill-pond. Plac- 
 ing her infant sister on the grass, she had kissed her good-by, 
 and selecting the deepest portion of the water, had climbed 
 out on a willow branch and prepared for the final plunge. 
 Putting her fingers in her ears that she might not hear the 
 bubbling of the murderous water, she shut her eyes and 
 sprang into the pond; but her long hair caught the willow 
 twigs, and, half strangled and quite willing to live, she scram- 
 bled up into the low limbs that seemed so anxious to rescue 
 her from a watery grave ; and, dripping and trembling, crept 
 back to the house, comforting herself with the grim assurance 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO FAST. 39 
 
 that whatever else might befall, she certainly was not foreor- 
 flained to be either beaten to death or drowned. The impulse 
 which had brought her on this occasion to a scene so fraught 
 with harrowing memories, was explicable only by the supposi- 
 tion that its painful surroundings were in consonance with 
 the bitter and despondent mood in which she found herself; 
 and, in the gloom that this retrospection shed over her coun- 
 tenance, her features seemed to grow wan and angular. For 
 several days she had been sorely disquieted by the realization 
 of Miss Jane's rapidly failing strength; and the probability 
 of her death, which a year ago would have been entirely en- 
 durable as an avenue to wealth, now appeared the direst 
 catastrophe that had yet threatened her Hi-starred life. 
 
 It was distressing to think of the kind old face growing stiff 
 in a shroud, but infinitely more appalling to contemplate the 
 possibility of being turned out of a comfortable home and 
 driven to labor for a maintenance. Salome had a vague im- 
 pression that either Providence or the world owed her a lux- 
 urious future, as partial compensation for her juvenile 
 miseries ; but since both seemed disposed to repudiate the debt, 
 she was reluctantly compelled to ponder her prospective bank- 
 ruptcy in worldly goods, and, like the unjust steward, while 
 unwilling to work she was still ashamed to beg. 
 
 Although she strenuously resisted the strong, steady influ- 
 ence so quietly exerted by Dr. Grey, the best elements of her 
 nature, long dormant, began to stir feebly, and she was consci- 
 ous of . nobler aspirations than those which had hitherto 
 swayed her ; and of a dimly-defined self-dissatisfaction that was 
 novel a.nd annoying. Unwilling to admit that she valued his 
 good opinion, she nevertheless felt chagrined at her failure 
 to possess it, and gradually she realized her utter inferiority 
 to this man, whose consistent Christian character, commanded 
 an entire respect which she had never before entertained for 
 any human being. Immersed in vexing thoughts concerning 
 her. futUjre, she mechanically stretched out her hand to pluck 
 a "bunch of phlox and of lemon-hned primroses that were nod- 
 ding in the sunshine close to her feet ; but, as she touched the 
 stems, a large copper-colored snake slowly uncoiled from the 
 
40 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 tuft of grass where they nestled and, gliding into the water, 
 disappeared in the midst of the lilies. 
 
 "I wonder if throughout life all the flowers I endeavor to 
 grasp will prove only Moccasin-beds! Why should they, — • 
 unless God abdicates and Satan reigns ? I have found, to my 
 cost, that existence is not made entirely of rainless June days ; 
 but I doubt whether darkness and storms shut out the warm 
 glow and perpetually curtain the stars. Obviously I am no 
 saint; still, I am disposed to believe I am not altogether 
 wicked. I have committed no capital sins^ nor grievously 
 transgressed the decalogue, — and why should I despair of my 
 share of the good things of life ? I am neither Cain nor Jeze- 
 bel, and therefore Fates and Furies have no warrant to dog 
 my footsteps. Moreover, how do I know that Destiny is in- 
 deed the hideous, vindictive crone that luckless wretches have 
 painted her, instead of an amiable, good soul, who is quite 
 as willing to scatter blessings as curses? Because some dys- 
 peptic Greek dreamed of three pitiless old weavers, blind to 
 human tears, deaf to human petitions, why should we wise 
 and enlightened people of the nineteenth century scare our- 
 selves with the skeleton of Paganism ? I have as inalienable a 
 right to brocades, crown-jewels, and a string of titles, as any 
 reigning queen, provided I can only get my hands upon them ; 
 and, since life seems to be a sort of snatch-and-hold game, 
 quick keen eyes and nimble fingers decide the question. I 
 have never trodden on the world's tender toes, nor smitten its 
 pet follies, nor set myself aloft to gaze pityingly on its degra- 
 dation, therefore, the world honors me with no special grudge. 
 But one thing is mournfully certain, — my path is not strewn 
 with loaves, and fishes ready baked and broiled, and I must 
 even go gleaning and fishing for myself. Almost everybody 
 has some gift or some mission ; but I really do not see in what 
 direction I can set to work. Work! How I hate the bare 
 thought ! I have not sufiBcient education to teach, nor genius 
 to write, nor a talent for drawing, and barely music enough in 
 my soul to enable me to carry the church tunes respectably. 
 Come, Salome Owen! Shake efl your sloth, and face the 
 abominable fact that you must earn your own bread. It is a 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 41 
 
 great shame, and I ought not to be obliged to work, for I am 
 not responsible for my existence, and those who brought me 
 into the world owed it to me to provide for my wants. I can- 
 not and will not forgive my father and mother ; but that will 
 not mend matters, since, nevertheless, here I am, with a body 
 to feed and clothe, and God only knows how I am to accom- 
 plish it. I find myself with youth, health, some beauty, an 
 average share of intellect, and all the wants pertaining there- 
 Bnto. If the worst comes to the worst I suppose I can con- 
 trive, like other poverty-stricken girls, to marry somebody who 
 will support me comfortably; but that is rather an uncertain 
 speculation, and meantime Miss Jane might die. Now, if the 
 Bible is true, it must indeed be a blessed lot to be born a 
 brown sparrow, and have the Lord for a commissary. I am 
 a genuine child of old Adam, and labor is the heaviest curse 
 that could possibly be sent upon me." 
 
 Once or twice during this profitless reverie she had paused 
 to listen to a singular sound that came from a dense group 
 of willows not far from the spot where she sat, and now it 
 grew louder, swelling into a measured cry, as of a child in 
 great distress. 
 
 " Somebody in trouble, but it does not concern me ; I have 
 enough and to spare, of my own." 
 
 She settled herself once more quite comfortably, but the 
 low, monotonous wail, smote her heart, and womanly sym- 
 pathy with suffering strangled her constitutional selfishness. 
 Eising, she crept cautiously along the edge of the pond until 
 she reached the thicket whence the sound proceeded, and, as 
 she pushed aside the low branches and peeped into the cool, 
 green nook, her eyes fell upon the figure of a little boy who 
 lay on the ground, rolling from side to side and sobbing vio- 
 lently. 
 
 " What is the matter? Are you sick or hungry? " 
 
 Startled by the sound of her voice, the child uttered a 
 scream of terror, and whirled over, hiding his face in the 
 leaves and grass. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, stop howling ! What are you. about, — 
 wallowing here in the mud, ruining your clothes, and yelling 
 like a hyena? Hush, and get up." 
 
42 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "Oh, please, ma'am, don't tell on me! Don't carry m« 
 back, and I will hush ! " 
 
 " Where do you live ? " 
 
 "Nowhere. Oh ! — oh! " And he renewed his cries. 
 
 " A probable story. What is your name ? " 
 
 " Haven't got any name." 
 
 " You have no name, and you live nowhere ? Come, little 
 fellow, this will never do. I am afraid you are a very bad boy 
 and have run away from home to escape being punished. 
 Hush this instant ! " 
 
 He had kept his face carefully concealed, and, resolved to 
 ascertain the truth, Salome stooped and tried to lift him; but 
 he struggled desperately, and screamed frantically, — 
 
 " Let me alone ! I won't go back ! I will jump into the 
 pond and drown myself if you don't let me alone." 
 
 He was so hoarse from constant crying that she could recog- 
 nize no familiar tones in his voice, but a great dread seized 
 her, and, suddenly putting her hands under his head, she 
 forced the face up, and looked at the flushed, swollen features. 
 
 " Stanley ! Is it possible? My poor little brother ! " 
 
 The equally astonished boy started up, and stared half wist- 
 fully, half fearfully, at the figure standing before him. 
 
 " Is it you, Salome ? I did not know you." 
 
 " How came you here ? When did you leave the Asylum ? " 
 
 " I ran away, three days ago." 
 
 «Wliy?'' 
 
 "Because I was tired of living there, and I wanted to come 
 back home." 
 
 "Home, indeed! You miserable begger, don't you know 
 you have no home but the Orphan Asylum ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have. I want to come back yonder. Don't you see 
 home yonder, among the trees, with the pretty white and 
 speckled pigeons flying over it ? " 
 
 He pointed across the pond to the old house beyond the 
 mill, whose outlines were visible through the openings in the 
 elms; and, as he gazed upon it with that intense longing so 
 touching in a chiM's face, his sobs increased. 
 
 " Stanley, that is not your home now. Other people live 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 43 
 
 there, and you have no right to come back. Why did you run 
 away from the Asylum ? Did they treat you unkindly ? " 
 
 " No, — ^yes. They whipped me because I cried and said I 
 hated to stay there, and wanted to come home." 
 
 Salome looked at the soiled, torn clothes, and sorrowful 
 face ; and, bursting into tears, she bent forward and drew her 
 brother to her bosom. He put his arms around her neck, and 
 kissed her cheek several times, saying, softly and coaxingly, — 
 
 " Sister Salome, you won't send me back, will you? Please 
 let me stay with you, and I will be a good boy." 
 
 For some minutes she was unable to reply, and wept 
 silently as she smoothed the tangled hair back from the 
 child's white forehead and pressed her lips to it. 
 
 " Stanley, how is Jessie? Where did you leave her?"" 
 
 " She is well, and I left her at the Asylum. She had a long 
 cry the night I ran away, and said she wanted to see you, and 
 she thought you had forgotten us both. You know, Salome, 
 it is over a year since you came to see us, and Jessie and I are 
 80 lonesome there, we hate the place." 
 
 " What were you crying so bitterly about when I found you, 
 just now ? " 
 
 "I am so hungry, and the man who lives yonder at home 
 drove me away. He said I was prowling around to steal some- 
 thing, and if he saw me there any more he would shoot me. I 
 ate my last piece of biscuit yesterday." 
 
 " Why did you not come to me instead of the miller ? " 
 
 " I was afraid you would send me back to the Asylum ; but 
 you won't, — I know you won't, Salome." 
 
 " Suppose I had not happened to hear you crying, — what 
 would have become of you? Did you intend to starve here in 
 the swamp ? " 
 
 " I thought I would wait till the miller left home, and then 
 beg his wife to give me some bread, and, if I could get noth- 
 ing, I was going to pull up some carrots that I saw growing 
 in a field back of the house. Oh, Salome, I am so hungry and 
 BO tired ! " 
 
 She sat down on a heap of last year's leaves, which autumn 
 winds and winter rains had driven against the trunk of a de- 
 
a UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 cayed and fallen sweet-gum, and, drawing the weary head 
 with its shock of matted yellow curls to her lap, she cov- 
 ered her own face with her hands to hide the hot tears that 
 etreamed over her cheeks. 
 
 " Salome, are you very mad with me ? " 
 , " Yes, Stanley ; you have behaved very badly, and I don't 
 know what I ought to do with you." 
 
 He tried to put aside one of her shielding hands, and fail- 
 ing, wound his arms around her waist, and nestled as close as 
 possible. 
 
 " Sister, please let me stay and live with you, and I promise 
 — I declare — I will be a good boy." 
 
 " Poor little fellow ! You don't in the least know what you 
 are talking about. How can you live with me when I have no 
 home, and not a dollar ? " 
 
 " I thought you stayed with a rich lady, and had everything 
 nice that you wanted." 
 
 " I do not expect to have even a shelter much longer. The 
 lady who takes care of me is sick, and cannot live very long; 
 and, when she dies, I don't know where I shall go or what I 
 may be obliged to do." 
 
 "If you will only keep me I will help you work. At the 
 Asylum I saw wood, and pick peas, and pull out grass and 
 Veeds from the strawberry vines, and sometimes I sweep the 
 yardB. Just try me a little while, Salome, and see how smart 
 I ai.n be." 
 
 "Would you be willing to leave poor little Jessie at the 
 Asylum? If she felt so lonesome when you were there, how 
 vili she get along without you ? '' 
 
 '■' Oh, we could steal her out some night, and keep her with 
 ns. Salome, I tell you I don't mean to go back there. I will 
 die first. I will drown myself, or run away to sea. I would 
 rather starve to death here in the swamp. Everybody else 
 cap get a home, and why can't we ? " 
 
 "Because your father was a, drunkard, and left his children 
 to the charity of the poor-house ; and, God knows, I heartily 
 wish we T-ere all screwed down in the same coffin with him. 
 You and I, Jessie, and Fart a^d JopJ, are all heggars — ^mi»* 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 45 
 
 erable beggars ! Hush, Stanley, you will sob yourself into a 
 fever! Stop crying, I say, if you do not want to drive me 
 crazy! I thought I had trouble enough, without being tor- 
 mented by the sight of your poor, wretched face; and now, 
 what to do with you I am sure I don't know. There — do be 
 quiet. Take your arms away; I don't want you to kiss me any 
 more." ' 
 
 In the long silence that succeeded, the child, spent with 
 grief and fatigue, fell into a sound sleep, and Salome sat with 
 his head in her lap and her clasped hands resting on her knee. 
 
 The afternoon slowly wore away, and the dimpled pond 
 caught lengthening shadows on its surface as the sun dipped 
 into the forest. The measured tinkle of a distant bell told 
 that the cows were wending quietly homeward ; and, while the 
 miller's wife drove her geese into the yard, the pigeons nestled 
 in their leafy coverts high among the elm arches, and the 
 solemn serenity of coming summer night stole with velvet 
 tread over the scene, silencing all things save the silvery bar- 
 carolle of the falling water, and the sweet, lonely vesper hymn 
 of a whippoorwill, half hidden in the solitary cypress. 
 
 Although tears came very rarely to her eyes, the orphan had 
 wept bitterly, and, surprised at finding herself so compleitely 
 unnerved on this occasion, she made a powerful efiFort to re- 
 gain her composure and uSual stolidity of expression. Shak- 
 ing the little sleeper, she said, — 
 
 " Wake up, Stanley. Get your hat and come with me, at 
 least for to-night." 
 
 The child was too weary to renew the conversation, and, 
 hand in hand, the two walked silently on until they ap- 
 proached the confines of the farm, when Salome suddenly 
 paused at sight of Dr. Grey, who was crossing the pine forest 
 just in front of them. Pressing his sistier's hand, Stanley 
 looked up and asked, timidly,— 
 
 " What are you going to do with me ? " 
 
 "Hush! I have riot fully decided." 
 
 She endeavored to elude observation by standing clbse to 
 the body of a large pine, but Dr. Grey caught a glimpse of her 
 
46 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 fluttering dress, and came forward rapidly, carrying in hii 
 arms one young lamb and driving another before him. 
 
 " Salome, will you be so good as to assist me in shepherding 
 this obstinate little waif? It has been running hither and 
 thither for nearly half an hour, taking every direction but the 
 right one. If you will either walk on and lower the bars for 
 me or drive this lamb while I go forward, you will' greatly 
 oblige me. Pardon me, — you look distressed. Something 
 painful has occurred, I fear." 
 
 The girl's usually firm mouth trembled as she laid her hand 
 on the torn straw hat that shaded Stanley's features, and an- 
 swered, hurriedly, — 
 
 " Yes. We have both stumbled upon stray lambs ; but mine, 
 unfortunately, happens to prove my youngest brother, and, 
 since I am neither Eeuben nor Judah, I could not leave him in 
 the woods to perish. Stanley, run on and pull down the bars 
 yonder, where you see the sheep looking through the fence." 
 
 "How old is he?" 
 
 " About eight years, I believe, but he is small for his age." 
 
 " He does not in the least resemble you." 
 
 " No ; pitiable little wretch, he looks like nothing but desti- 
 tution ! When a poor man dies, leaving a houseful of beggarly 
 orphans, the State ought to require the undertaKer who buries 
 him to shoot or hang the whole brood, and lay them all in 
 the Potter's Field out of the world's way." 
 
 " Such words and sentiments are strangely at variance with 
 the affectionate gentleness and resignation which best become 
 womanly lips, and I pity the keen suffering that wrings them 
 from yours. He who 'setteth the solitary in families ' never 
 yet failed in loving guardianship of trusting orphanage, and 
 certainly you have no cause to upbraid fate, or impiously mur- 
 mur against the decrees of your God." 
 
 He stood before her, with one hand stroking the head of the 
 lamb that nestled on his bosom ; but his face was sterner, his 
 voice far more severe, than she had ever known either before, 
 and her eyes fell beneath the grave and sorrowful rebuke 
 yrhieb looked out from his. 
 
 " Your brother ran away from the Asylum, three days ago." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 47 
 
 " How did you ascertain that fact ? " 
 
 " About an hour after you left the house, the matron of the 
 Asylum sent to inqure whether you were aware of his absence, 
 and to notify you that your little sister Jessie is quite ill. I 
 was searching for you, when I accidentally found these lambs, 
 deserted by their mother. Thank you, Stanley ; I will put up 
 the bars, and you can go to the house with yoiir sister. Sa- 
 lome, the carriage is ready, and if you desire to see Jessie im- 
 mediately I will take you over as soon as possible. There is 
 a full moon, and you can return with me or remain at the 
 Asylum until morning. Confer with my sister concerning 
 the disposal of this little refugee." 
 
 He patted the boy's head, and entered the sheepfold, while 
 Salome stood leaning against the fence, looking vacantly 
 down at the bleating flock. 
 
 Catching her brother's hand, she hurried to the house, 
 bathed his face, brushed his disordered hair, and gave him a 
 bountiful supper of bread and milk; after which, Jane Grey 
 ordered the little culprit brought to her bedside, where she 
 delivered a kind lecture on his sinful disobedience. When Dr. 
 G'rey entered the room, Salome was standing at the window, 
 while Stanley clung to her dress, hiding his face in its folds, 
 vowing vehemently that he would not return to the Asylum, 
 and protesting with many sobs that he would be the best boy 
 in the world if he were only allowed to remain at the farm. 
 
 "Salome, do quiet him; he will fret himself into a fever," 
 said Miss Jane, whose nerves began. to quiver painfully. 
 
 "He has it already," answered the girl, without turning 
 her head. She did not observe Dr. Grey's entrance, and when 
 he aproached the window, where- the mellow moonshine 
 streamed full on her face, he saw tears stealing over her 
 cheeks, and noticed that her fingers were clenched tightly, 
 
 " Salome, do you wish to see Jessie to-night? She has had 
 convulsions during the day, and may not live until morning." 
 
 She looked up at his grave, noble countenance, and her lips 
 fluttered as she answered, huskily, — 
 
 " I can do nothing for her, and why should I see her die? '* 
 
 " To whose care was she committed by her dying mother ? * 
 
48 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " To mine." 
 
 " Have you faithfully kept the sacred trast? " 
 
 " I did all that I could until Miss Jane placed her in the 
 asylum." 
 
 " Does your conscience acquit you ? " 
 
 She silently dropped her face in her hands, and for some 
 seconds he watched her anxiously. 
 
 "Have you and Janet decided what shall be done with 
 Stanley?" 
 
 " No ; the longer I ponder the matter, the more confused my 
 mind becomes." 
 
 " Will you leave it in my hands, and abide by my decision ? " 
 
 "Yes, gladly." 
 
 " You promise to be satisfied with any course upon- which I 
 may resolve ? " 
 
 Looking up quickly, she exclaimed, — 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I trust you, fully. Do w:hat you think best." 
 
 Dr. Grey put his hand under Stanley's chin, and, lifting his 
 face, examined his countenance and felt his pulse. 
 
 " He is only frightened and fatigued. Put him to bed at 
 once in your room, and then let me take you to see little Jes- 
 sie. If you fail to go, you might reproach yourself in coming 
 years." 
 
 It was nine o'clock when the carriage stopped at the door 
 of the Asylum, and Salome and Dr. Grey went up to the " In- 
 firmary," where the faithful matron sat beside- one of the little 
 beds, watching the deep slumber of the flushed and exhausted 
 sleeper. 
 
 The disease had almost spent its force, the crisis was passed, 
 and the attending physician had pronounced the patient much 
 better; still, when Salome stooped to kiss her sister, the 
 matron held her back, assuring her that perfect quiet was es- 
 sential for her recovery. Kneeling there beside the motherless 
 girl, Salome noted the changes that time and suffering had 
 wrought on the delicate features; and, as she listened to tha 
 quick, irregular breathing, the fountain of tenderness was sud- 
 denly unsealed in her own nature, and she put out her arms, 
 yearning to clasp Jessie to her heart. So strong were her 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 49 
 
 emotions, so teen was her regret for past indifference and neg- 
 lect, that she lost all self-control, and, unable to check her 
 passionate weeping, Dr. Grey led her from the room, promis- 
 ing to bring her again when the sick child was sufficiently 
 strong to bear the interview. 
 
 During the ride homeward he made no effort to divert her 
 thoughts or relieve her anxiety, knowing that although severe 
 it was a healthful regimen for her long indurated heart, and 
 was the renaissance of her better nature. 
 
 When they arrived at home, the moon was shining bright 
 and full, and, as they waited on the gallery for a servant to 
 open the door,. Dr. Grey drew most favorable auguries from 
 the chastened, blanched face, with its humbled and grieved 
 expression. 
 
 " Salome, I shall for the present keep Stanley here ; and, 
 until I. can make some satisfactory arrangement with reference 
 to his education, I would be glad to have you hear his recita- 
 tions every day. Have you the requisite leisure to superintend 
 his lessons ? " 
 
 " Yesi sir. I have not deserved this kindness from you. Dr. 
 Grey ; but I thank you, from my inmost heart. You are good 
 enough to forgive my many offences, and I shall not soon for- 
 get it." 
 
 " Salome, you owe me no gratitude, but there is much for 
 which you should go down on your knees and fervently thank 
 your merciful God. My young friend, wUl you do this ? " 
 
 He extended his hand, and, unable to utter a word, Salome 
 gave him hers, for a second only, and hastened to her own 
 room, where Stanley's fair face lay in the golden moonlight, 
 radiant with happy dreams of white pigeons and pet lambs. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Don't strangle me, Jessie! Put down your arms, and 
 listen to me. Sobbing will not mend matters, and you might 
 as well make up your mind to be patient. Of course I should 
 4 
 
50 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 like to take you with me, if I had a home ; but, as I told yen 
 just now, we are so poor that we must live where we can, not 
 where we prefer. Because I wear nice pretty clothes do you 
 suppose I have a pocketful of money ? I have not a cent to 
 buy even a loaf of bread, and I can't ask Miss Jane to take 
 care of you as well as of Stanley and myself. Poor little 
 thing, don't cry so ! I know you are lonely here without Stan- 
 ley, but it can't be helped. Jessie, don't you see that it can 
 not be helped?" 
 
 "I don't eat so very much, and I could sleep with Buddie 
 and wouldn't be iij the way, — and I can wear my old clothes. 
 Oh, please, Salome ! I will die if you leave me here." 
 
 " You wiU do no such thing ; you are getting well as fast as 
 possible. Crying never kills people, — it only makes their 
 heads ache, and their eyes red and ugly. See here, if you 
 don't stop all this, I shall quit coming to see you! Do you 
 hear what I say ? " 
 
 The only reply was a fresh sob, which the child strove to 
 smother by hiding her face in Salome's lap. 
 
 The matron, who sat by the open window, looked up from 
 the button-hole she was working, and, clearing her throat, 
 said, — 
 
 "Better let her have her cry out, — ttat is the surest cure 
 for such troubles as hers. She was always manageable and 
 good enough until Stanley ran away, and since then she does 
 nothing but mope and bite her finger-nails. Cry away, Jessie, 
 and have done with it. Ah, miss, the saddest feature about 
 Asylums is the separation of families ; and if the matron had 
 a heart of stone it would melt sometimes at sight of these 
 little motherless things clinging to each other. I'm sure I 
 have shed a gallon of tears since I came here. It is a fearful 
 responsibility to take charge of an institution like this, for if 
 I try to make the children respect my authority, and behave 
 themselves properly, outsiders 'specially the neighbors, says I 
 am too severe ; and if I let them frolic and romp and make as 
 much din and uproar as they like, why, then the same folks 
 scandalize me and thi managers, and say there is no sort of 
 discipline maintained. I verily believe, miss, that if an angel 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 51 
 
 came down from heaven to matronize these children, before 
 six months elapsed all the godliness would be worried out of 
 her soul by the slanders of the public and the squabbles of the 
 children. Now I don't confess to be an angel, but I do claim 
 a conscience, and God knows I make it a rule to treat these 
 orphans exactly as I treated my own and only child, whom I 
 buried three years ago. Do you suppose that any woman who 
 has laid her first-bom in its coffin could be brutal enough to 
 maltreat poor little motherless lambs? I don't deny that 
 sometimes I am compelled to punish them, for it is as much 
 my duty to whip them for bad conduct as to see that their 
 meals are properly cooked and their clothes kept in order. Am 
 I to let them grow up thieves and liars ? Must I stand by and 
 see them pull out each other's hair and bite ofE one another's 
 ears ? " 
 
 " Of course iiot, Mrs. Collins. You must preserve some 
 discipline." 
 
 " Must I ? Well, miss, I will show you how beajitif uUy that 
 sounds and how poorly it works. There is your brother Stan- 
 ley (I mean no offence, miss, but special cases explain better 
 than generalities), — there's your brother Stanley, who ran 
 away — for what ? " 
 
 " Because he was homesick and wanted to see me." 
 
 "No such thing, begging your pardon. Perhaps he told 
 you that, but remember there are always two sides to every 
 tale. The truth of the matter is just this : Stanley has an ugly 
 habit of cursing, which I will not tolerate; and, twice when I 
 heard him swearing at the other children, I shamed him well 
 and slapped him soundly. Last week I told him and Joe 
 Clark to shell a basket of peas, while the cook was niaking 
 some ginger-bread for them, and before I was out of the 
 room they commenced quarrelling. They raised siich an. up- 
 roar that I came back and saw the whole fray. Stanley cursed 
 Joe, who expostulated and tried to pacify him, and when he 
 finally threatened to tell me that Stanley was cursing again, 
 your brother snatched a hatchet that was lying on the dresser 
 and swore he would kill him if he did. He aimed a blow at 
 Joe's head, but slipped on the pea-huUs, and the hatchet 
 
52 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 atriack the boy's right foot, cutting off one of his toes. JJow 
 what would you have done, under the circumstances, — allowed 
 the children to be tomahawked in that style ? You say I must 
 have discipline. Well, miss, I tried to ' discipline " Stanley's 
 wickedness out of him by giving him a whipping, and the end 
 of the matter was that he ran away that afternoon. That is 
 not the worst of it, — for the children all know the facts, and 
 since they find that Stanley Owen can run away and be sus- 
 tained in his disobedience, of course it tends to demoralize 
 them. So I say that if I do my duty I am lashed by the 
 tongues of people who know nothing of the circumstances; 
 and if I fail to perform my duty I am lashed by my own con- 
 science, — and between the two I have a sorrowful time; for 
 I declare to you, miss, that Stephen's martyrdom was a small 
 affair in comparison with what I pass through every week, f 
 love the children and try to be kind to them, but I can't have 
 them cursing and swearing like sailors, and scalping each 
 other. I must either raise them like Christians, or resign my 
 situation to some one who is ' wise as serpent^ and harmless as 
 doves.' It is all very fine to talk of ' proper discipline ' in 
 charitable institutions; but, miss, in the name of common 
 sense, how can I get along unless the friends of the children 
 sustain me? Did you punish Stanley, and send him back? 
 On the contrary, you countenanced his bad conduct and kept 
 him with you, and it is perfectly natural that little Jessie here 
 should be dissatisfied and anxious to join him. I can't scold 
 her, for I know she misses her brother, who was always very 
 tender and considerate in his treatment of her." 
 
 " I appreciate the difficulties which surround you, and be- 
 lieve that you are conscientiously striving to do your duty to- 
 wards these children ; but I knew that if I compelled Stanley 
 to return it would augment instead of correcting the mis- 
 chief." 
 
 At this juncture the matron was summoned from the room, 
 and, during the silence that ensued, Jessie climbed into her 
 sister's lap, wound her thin arms around her neck, and softly 
 rubbed her pale cheek against the polished rosy faee, where 
 perplexity and annoyance were legibly written. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 53 
 
 " Salome, don't you love me a little ? " 
 " Of course I do ; Jessie, don't be so foolish." 
 " Please let me go with you and Stanley." 
 " Do you want to starve, — you poor silly thing ? " 
 " Yes ; I would rather starve with Buddie than stay here by 
 myself." 
 
 " I want to hear no more of such nonsense. Yon have not 
 tried starving, and you are too young to know what is really 
 for your good. Now, listen to me. At present I am obliged 
 to leave you here, — come, don't begin crying again ; but, if you 
 will be a good girl and try not to fret over what cannot be 
 helped, I promise you that Just as soon as I can possibly sup- 
 port you I will take you to live with me." 
 
 " How long must I wait ? " ^ 
 
 " Until I make money enough to feed and clothe you." 
 " Can't you guess when you can come for me ? " 
 " No, for as yet I know not how I can earn a dollar ; but, if 
 you will be patient, I promise to work hard for you and Stan- 
 ley." 
 
 " I will be good. Salome, I have saved a quarter of a dol- 
 lar that the doctor gave me when I was sick, — because I let 
 the blister stay on my side a half hour longer ; and I thought 
 I would send it to Buddie, to buy him some marbles or a kite ; 
 but I reckon I had better give it to you to help us get a house." 
 She drew from her pocket a green calico bag, and, emptying 
 the contents into her hand, picked out from among brasa bat- 
 tons and bits of broken glass a silver coin, which she held up 
 triumphantly. 
 
 "No, Jessie, — keep it. Stanley has plenty of playthings, 
 and you may need it. Besides, your quarter would not go far, 
 and I don't want it. Good-bye, little darling. Try to give 
 Mrs. CoUins no trouble, and recollect that when I promise you 
 anything I shall be sure to keep my word." 
 
 Salome drew the child's head to her shoulder, and, as she 
 bent over and kissed the sweet, pure lips, Jessie whispered, 
 " When we say our prayers to-night, we will ask God to send 
 us some money to buy a home, won't we ? You know he made 
 the birds feed Elijah." 
 
54 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " But we are not prophets, and ravens are not flying about 
 with bags of money under their wings." 
 
 We do not know what God can do, and if we are only good. 
 He is as much bound to take care of us as of Elijah. He made 
 the sky rain manna and partridges for the starving people in 
 the desert, and He is as much our God as if we came out from 
 Egypt under Moses. I know God will help us, if we ask Him. 
 I am sure of it; for last week I lost Mrs. Collins' bunch of 
 keys, and, when I could not find them anywhere, I prayed to 
 God to help me, and, sure enough, I remembered I left them 
 in the dairy where I was churning." 
 
 Jessie's countenance was radiant with hope and faith, which 
 her sister could not share, yet felt unwilling to destroy ; and, 
 checking the heavy sigh that rose from her oppressed heart, 
 she hastily quitted the house. 
 
 In the midst of confused and perturbed reflections, rose like 
 some lonely rock-based beacon in boiling waves her sacred 
 promise to the trusting child, and ingenuity was racked to 
 devise some means for its prompt fulfilment. Consanguinity 
 began to urge its claim vehemently, and long dormant tender- 
 ness pleaded piteously for exiled idols. 
 
 If I were only a Christian, like Dr. Grey ! His faith, like 
 strong wings, bears him high above all sloughs of despond, all 
 morasses of moodiness. People cannot successfully or profit- 
 ably serve two masters. That is eminently true ; not because 
 it is scriptural, but vice versa; because it is so obviously true 
 it could not escape a place in the Bible. Half work pays poor 
 wages, and it is not surprising that neither God nor Mammon 
 will patiently submit to it. I suppose the time has come when 
 I must bargain myself to one or the other; for, hitherto, I 
 have declared in favor of neither. I am not altogether sanc- 
 tified, nor yet desperately wicked, but. I hate Satan, who 
 ruined my father, infinitely more than I dislike the restric- 
 tions of religion. I owe him a grudge for all the shame and 
 suffering of my childhood,— which, if God did not interfere to 
 prevent, at least there is strong presumptive evidence that he 
 took no pleasure in witnessing. I don't suppose I have any 
 faith; I scarcely know what it means; but perhaps if I try to 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 55 
 
 serve God instead of myself, it will come to me as it came to 
 Paul and Thomas.. I wonder whether mere abstract love of 
 righteousness and of the Lord drives half as many persons 
 into Christian churches as the fear of eternal perdition. I 
 don't deny that I am afraid of Satan, for if he contrives to 
 smuggle so much sin and sorrow into this world what must his 
 own kingdom be ? If there be any truth in the tradition that 
 every human Veing is afflicted by some besetting sin that 
 crouches at the door of the soul, lying in ambxish to destroy 
 it, then my own ' Dweller of the Threshold,' is love of mine 
 ease. Time was when I would have bartered my eternal herit- 
 age for a good-sized mess of earthly pottage, provided only it 
 was well spiced and garnished ; but to-day I have no inclina- 
 tion to be swindled like Esau. Idleness has well-nigh ruined 
 me, so I shall take industry by the horns, and laying thereon 
 all my sins of indolence, drive it before me as the Jews drove 
 Apopompceus." 
 
 She walked on in the direction of the town, turning her 
 head neither to right nor left, and keeping her eyes fixed on 
 the blue air before her, where imagination built a home, 
 through whose spacious halls Stanley and Jessie sported at 
 will. On the principal street stood a fashionable dress-making 
 and millinery establishment, and thither Salome bent her 
 steps, resolved that the sun should not set without having wit- 
 nessed some effort to redeem the pledge given to Jessie. 
 
 Panoplied in Miss Jane's patronage, she demanded and ob- 
 tained admission to the inner apartment of this Temple of 
 Fashion, where presided the Pjrthoness whose oracular utter- 
 ances swayed le beau monde. 
 
 What passed between the two never transpired, even among 
 the apprentices that thronged the adjoining room ; but when 
 Salome left the house she carried under her arm a large 
 bundle which furnished work for the ensuing fortnight. 
 
 Evening shadows overtook her, while yet a mile distant 
 from home, and as she passed a small cottage, where candle- 
 light flared through the open window, she saw Dr. Grey 
 standing beside the bed, on which, doubtless, lay some sufferer. 
 
 Ere many moments had elapsed, she heard his well-known 
 
56 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 footstep on the rocky road, and involuntarily paused to greet 
 him. 
 
 " What called you to old Mrs. Peterson's ? " 
 
 "Her youngest grandchild is very ill with brain fever; so 
 ill that I shall return and sit up With him to-night." 
 
 "I was not aware that physicians condescended to act as 
 mere nurses, — to execute their own orders." 
 
 " Then I fear you have formed a very low estimate of the 
 eacred responsibilities of my profession, or of the characters 
 of those who represent it. The true physician combines the 
 ofiSees of surgeon, doctor, nurse, and friend." 
 
 " Mrs. Peterson is almost destitute, and to a great extent 
 dependent on charity; consequently you need not expect to 
 collect any fee." 
 
 " Knowing her poverty, I attend the family gratuitously." 
 
 " Is not your charity-list a very long one ? " 
 
 " Could I divest myself of sympathy with the sufferings of 
 those who compose it I would not curtail it one iota ; for I feel 
 like Boerhaave, who once said, ' My poor are my best patients ; 
 God pays for them.' " 
 
 "Then, after all, you are actuated merely by selfishness, 
 and remit payments in earthly dross, — in 'filthy lucre,' — in 
 order to collect your fees in a better currency, where thieves do 
 not break through nor steal ? " 
 
 " * He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker ; but 
 he that honoreth Him, hath mercy on the poor.' If a tinge 
 of selfishness mingle with the hope of future reward, it will be 
 forgiven, I trust, by the great Physician, who, in sublimating 
 human nature, seized upon its selfish elements as powerful 
 agencies in the regeneration of mankind. An abstract wor- 
 ship of virtue is scarcely possible while humanity is clothed 
 with clay, and I am not unwilling to confess that hope of 
 eternal compensation influences my conduct in many respects. 
 If this be indeed only subtle selfishness, at least we shall be 
 pardoned by Him who promised to prepare a place in the 
 Father's mansion for those who follow His footsteps among 
 the poor." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 57 
 
 She looked up at him, with a puzzled, searching expression, 
 that arrested his attention, and exclaimed,' — 
 
 " How singularly honest you are ! I believe I could have 
 faith if there were more like you." 
 
 "Faith in what?" 
 
 In the nobility of my race, — iu the possibility of my own 
 improvement, — in the watchful providence of God." 
 
 " Salome, there is much sound philosophy in the eighty- 
 seventh and eighty-ninth maxims of cynical Eochefoucauld, 
 * It is more disgraceful to distrust one's friends than to be de- 
 ceived by them. Our mistrust justifies the deceit of others.' 
 My opportunities have been favorable for studying various 
 classes of men, and my own experience corroborates the truth 
 of Montaigne's sagacious remark, ' Confidence in another 
 man's virtue is no slight evidence of a man's own.' Try to 
 cultivate trust in your fellow creatures, and the bare show 
 of faith will sometimes create worth." 
 
 " Did Christ's show of confidence in Judas save him from 
 betrayal ? " 
 
 "Let us hope that he was the prototype of a very limited 
 class. You must not expect to find mankind divided into two 
 great castes — one all angels, the other comprising hopeless 
 demons. On the contrary, noble and most ignoble impulses 
 alternately sway the actions and thoughts of the majority of 
 our race ; and the saint of to-day is not unfrequently tempted 
 to become the fiend of to-morrow. Eemember that the con- 
 flict with sinful promptings begins in the cradle — ends only 
 in the cofifin, — ^and try to be more charitable in your judg- 
 ments." 
 
 They walked a few yards in silence, and at length Salome 
 asked, — 
 
 " Were you not kept up all of last night ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I was obliged to ride fifteen miles to set a dislocated 
 shoulder." 
 
 " Then you must be exhausted from fatigue, and unfit for 
 watching to-night. Will you not allow me to relieve you, and 
 take charge of Mrs. Peterson's grandchild? I admit I am 
 
58 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Stery ignorant; but I will faithfully follow your directions, 
 and I think you may venture to trust me." 
 
 Confusion flushed her face as she made this proposition, but 
 in the pale, pearly lustre of the summer starlight, it was not 
 visible. 
 
 "Thank you heartily, Salome. I could implicitly trust 
 your intentions, but the ease is almost hopeless, and I fear 
 you are too inexperienced to render it safe for me to commit 
 the child to your care. I appreciate your kindness, but am 
 too inueh interested in the boy to leave him when the disease 
 is at its crisis, and a cup of coffee will strengthen me for the 
 vigil. You have been to the Asylum this afternoon; tell me 
 something about little Jessie." 
 
 " She is still rather pale, but otherwise seems quite well 
 again. Of courge she is dissatisfied since Stanley has left, 
 and thinks she ought to be allowed to follow his example; but 
 I finally persuaded her to remain there patiently, at least 
 for the present. It is well that the poor have their sensibili- 
 ties blunted early in life, for they are spared many sorrows 
 that afHict those who are pampered by fortune and rendered 
 morbidly sensitive by years of indulgence and prosperity." 
 
 A metallic ring had crept into her voice, hardening it, and 
 although he could not distinctly see her countenance, he knew 
 that the words came through set teeth. 
 
 " Sajlome, I hope that I misunderstand you." 
 
 " No ; unfortunately, you thoroughly comprehend me. Dr. 
 Grey, were you situated precisely as I find myself, do you sup- 
 pose you would feel your degradation as little as I seem to do ? 
 Do you think you would relish the bread of charity as keenly 
 as one, who, for courtesy's sake, shall be nameless? Could 
 you calmly stand by, and with utter sang froid see your 
 brothers and sisters — your own flesh and blood — drift on 
 every chance wave, like some sodden crust or withered weed 
 on a stormy, treacherous sea? Would not your family pride 
 bleed and die, and your self-respect wail and shrivel and 
 expire ? " 
 
 "You have so grossly exaggerated and over colored your 
 picture that I recognize little likeness to reality." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 59 
 
 " I neither gloze nor mask ; I simply front the facts, which 
 are, briefly, that you were nurtured in independence and 
 trained to abhor the crumbs that fall from other people's 
 tables, while all heroic aspirations and proud chivalric dreams 
 were fed by the milk that nourished you ; whereas, I grew up 
 in the wan, sickly atmosphere of penury; glad to -grasp the 
 crust that chance offered ; taught to consider the bread of de- 
 pendence precious as ambrosia; willing to forget family ties 
 that were fraught only with humiliation and wretchedness; 
 coveting bounty that I had not sufficient ambition to merit; 
 and eager to live on charity, as long as it could be coaxed, 
 hoodwinked, or scourged into supporting me comfortably. 
 Yesterday I read a sentence that might have been written for 
 me, so felicitously does it photograph me, ' Teinperament is a 
 fate oftentimes, from whose jurisdiction its victims hardly 
 escape, but do its bidding herein, be it murder or martyr- 
 dom. Virtues and crimes are mixed in one's cup of nativity, 
 with the lesser or larger margin of choice. Blood is a 
 destiny.' You, Ulpian Grey, are what you are because your 
 father was a gentleman, and all your surroundings were 
 luxurious and refined; and I, the miller's child, am what 
 you see me because my father was coarse and brutal ; because 
 my body and soul struggled with staring starvation, — ^phys- 
 ical, mental, and moral. Be just, and remember these things 
 when you are tempted to despise me as a pitiable, spiritless 
 parasite." 
 
 " My little "friend, you have most unnecessarily tortured 
 yourself, and grieved and mortified me. Have I ever treated 
 you with contempt or disrespect ? " 
 
 "You evidently pity me, aind compassion is about as wel- 
 come to my feelings as a vitriol bath to fresh wounds." 
 
 " Are you not conscious of having more than once acted in 
 such a manner as to necessitate my compassion? " 
 
 She was silent for some moments; but as they entered the 
 avenue, she said, impetuously, — 
 
 " I want you to respect me." 
 
 " If you respect yourself and merit my good opinion, I shall 
 not withhold it. But of one thing let me assure you; my 
 
60 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 standard of womanly delicacy, nobility, gentleoess, and Chris« 
 tian faith is very exalted ; and I cannot and will not lower it, 
 even to meet the requirements of those who claim my friend- 
 ship. Thoroughly cognizant of my opinions concerning sev- 
 eral subjects, you have more than once, premeditatedly and ob- 
 trusively outraged them, and while I can and do most cor- 
 dially overlook the offence, you should not deem it possible 
 for me to entertain a very lofty estimate of the offender. 
 When I came home you took such extraordinary pains to con- 
 vince me that not a single noble aspiration actuated you that 
 I confess you almost succeeded in your aim; but, Salome, I 
 hope you are far more generous than you deign to prove your- 
 self, and I promise you my earnest respect shall not lag 
 behind, — shall promptly keep pace with your deserts. You 
 can, if you so determine, make yourself an attractive, brilliant, 
 noble woman; an ornament — and better still — a useful, hon- 
 ored member of society ; but the faults of your character are 
 grave, and only prayer and conscientious, persistent efforts 
 can entirely correct them. I am neither so unreasonable nor 
 so unjust as to holdryou accountable for circumstances beyond 
 your control; and, while I warmly sympathize with all your 
 sorrows, I know that you are still sufficiently young to rectify 
 the unfortunate warping that your nature received in its 
 mournful earjy years. To ask me to respect you is as idle 
 and useless and impotent as the soft murmur of this June 
 breeze in the elm boughs above us; but you can command my 
 perfect confidence and friendship solely on condition that you 
 merit it. Salome, something very unusual has influenced 
 you to-day, forcing you to throw aside the rubbish that you 
 patiently piled over your better self until it was effectually 
 concealed; and, if you are willing to be frank with me, I 
 should be glad to know what has so healthfully affected you. 
 I believe I can guess: has not little Jessie wooed and won 
 her sister's heart, melting all its icy selfishness and warming 
 its holiest recesses ? " 
 
 At this moment Stanley bounded down the steps to meet 
 them, and, bending over to receive his kiss and embrace, 
 Salome gladly evaded a reply. That night, after she bad 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. g] 
 
 taught her brother his lessons for the next day and made 
 him repeat the prayer learned in the dormitory of the Asylum, 
 — whea she had read Miss Jane to sleep and seen the doctor 
 set out on his mission of mercy, she brightened the lamplight 
 in her own room, and, opening the parcel, drew out and com- 
 menced the dainty embroidery which she had promised should 
 be completed at an early day. 
 
 The night was warm, but the sea-breeze sang a lullaby in 
 the trees that peeped in at her window, and now and then a 
 strong gust blew the flame almost to the top of the lamp- 
 chimney. Stanley slept soundly in his trundle-bed, occasion- 
 ally startling her by half-uttered exclamations, as in his 
 dreams he chased rabbits or found partridge-eggs. Oblivious 
 of passing hours, and profoundly immersed in speculations 
 concerning her future, the girl sewed on, working scallop 
 after scallop, and flower after flower, in the gossamer cambric 
 between her slender fingers. Stars that looked upon her early 
 in the night had gone down into blue abysms below the 
 horizon, and the midnight song of a mocking-bird, swinging 
 in a lemon-tree beneath her window, had long since hushed 
 itself with the chirp of crickets and gossip of the katydids. 
 
 A tap on the facing of her open door finally aroused her, 
 and she hastily attempted to hide her work, as Dr. Grey 
 asked, — 
 
 "What keeps you up so late? Are you dressing a doll 
 for Jessie?" 
 
 " What brings you home so early ? Is your patient bet- 
 ter?" 
 
 " Yes ; in one sense he is certainly better ; for, free from all 
 pain, he rests with his God." 
 
 "WTiat time is it?" 
 
 " Half -past three. Little Charles died aboat an hour ago, 
 and, as I shall be very busy to-morrow, I came upstairs to 
 ask if you will oblige me by going over to Mrs. - Peterson's 
 and remaining with her until the neighbors assemble in the 
 morning. It is an unpleasant duty, and unless you are per- 
 fectly willing I will not request you to perform it." 
 
g2 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "Certainly, sir; I will go at once. Why should I hesi* 
 tate?" 
 
 " Come down as soon as you are ready^ and I wiU ma^e 
 Harrison drive you over in my buggy. As it is only a mile 
 I walked home." 
 
 When she stood before him, waiting for the servant to ad- 
 just some portion of the harness, Dr. Grey wrapped her shawl 
 more closely around her, and said,-^ 
 
 " What new freak keeps you awake till four o'clock? "^ 
 
 "It is no freak, but the beginning of a settled purpose 
 that reaches in numberless ramifications through all my 
 coming years. It does not concern you, so ask me no more. 
 Good-night. I suppose I ought to tender you my thanks 
 for deeming me worthy of this melancholy mission; and if 
 so, pray be pleased to accept thorn." 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 " Jane, have you heard that we shall soon have some new; 
 neighbors at ' Solitude ' ? " 
 
 " No ; who is brave enough to settle there ? " 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, a widow, has purchased and refitted the 
 house, preparatory to making it her home." 
 
 " Do you suppose she knows the history of' its former 
 owners ? " 
 
 " Probably not, as she has never seen the place. The pur- 
 chase was made some months since by her agent, who stated 
 that she was in Europe." 
 
 " Ulpian, I am sorry that the house will again be occupied, 
 for some mournful fatality seems to have attended all who 
 ever resided there ; and I have been told that the last propri- 
 etor changed the name from * Solitude ' to ' Bochim.' " 
 
 "You must not indulge such superstitious vagaries, my 
 dear, wise Janet. The age of hobgoblins, haunted houses, 
 and supernatural, influences has passed away with the marvels 
 of alchemy and the weird myths of Eosicrucianism. Because 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 63 
 
 many deaths have occuired at that place, and the residents 
 were consequently plunged in gloom, you must not rashly 
 impute eldritch influences to the atmosphere surrounding it. 
 Knowing its ghostly celebrity, I have investigated the grounds 
 of existing prejudice, and find that of the ten persons who 
 have died there during the last fifteen years, three deaths were 
 from heriditary consumption, one from dropsy, two from 
 paralysis, one from epilepsy, one from brain-fever, one from 
 drowning, and the last from a fall that broke the victim's 
 neck. Were these attributable to any local cause, the results 
 would certainly not have proved so diverse." 
 
 " Call it superstition, or what you will, no amount of coax- 
 ing, argument, or ridicule, no imaginable inducement could 
 prevail on me to live there, — even if the house were floored 
 with gold and roofed with silver. It is the gloomiest-looking 
 place this side of Golgotha, and I would as soon crawl into a 
 coffin for an afternoon nap as spend a night there." 
 
 " Your imagination invests it with a degree of gloom which 
 is adventitious, and referable solely to painful associations; 
 for intrinsically the situation is picturesque and beautiful, and 
 the grounds have been arranged with consummate taste. 
 This morning I noticed a quantity of rare and very superb 
 lilies clustered in a corner of the parterre." 
 
 " Pray, what called you there ? " 
 
 "A workman engaged in repairing some portion of the 
 roof, slipped on the slate and broke his arm; consequently, 
 they sent for me." 
 
 " Just what he might have expected. I tell you something 
 happens to everybody who ever sleeps there." 
 
 "Do you suppose there is a squad of malicious spirits 
 hovering in ambush to swoop upon all new-comers, and not 
 only fracture limbs, but scatter to right and left paralysis, 
 epilepsy, and other diseases? From your rueful coimtenance 
 ji stranger might infer that Pandora's box had just been 
 opened at 'Bochim,' and that the very air was thick with 
 miasma and maledictions." 
 
 " Oh, laugh on if you choose at my old-fashioned whims and 
 superstition; but, mark my words, that place will prove a 
 
64 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 curse to whoever buys it and settles there ! Has Mrs. (Jerome 
 a family?" 
 
 "I believe I heard that she had no children, but I really 
 know little about her except that she must be a woman of 
 unusually refined and cultivated tastes, as the pictures, books, 
 and various articles of vertu that have preceded her seem to 
 indicate much critical and artistic acumen. The entire build- 
 ing has been refitted in exceedingly handsome style, and the 
 upholsterer who was arranging the furniture told me it had 
 been purchased in Europe." 
 
 " When is Mrs. Gerome expected ? " 
 
 " During the present week." 
 
 " What aged person is she ? " 
 
 "Indeed, my dear, curious Janet, I have asked no questions 
 and formed no conjectures; but I trust your baleful prog- 
 nostications will find no fulfilment in her case." 
 
 " TJlpian, I had some very fashionable visitors to-day, who 
 manifested an extraordinary interest in your past, present, 
 and future. Mrs. Channing and her two lovely daughters 
 spent the morning here, and left an invitation for you to 
 attend a party at their house next Thursday evening. Miss 
 Adelaide went into ecstasies over that portrait in which you 
 wore your uniform, and asked numberless questions about 
 you; among others, whether you were still heart-whole, or 
 whether you had suffered some great disappointment early in 
 life which kept you a bachelor. What do you suppose she 
 said when I told her that you had never had a love-scrape in 
 your life?" 
 
 " Of course she impugned the statement, which, to a young 
 lady framed for flirtations, must indeed have appeared in- 
 credible." 
 
 " On the contrary, she declared that the woman who suc- 
 ceeded in captivating you would achieve a triumph more diflB- 
 cult and more desirable than the victory of the Nile or of 
 Trafalgar. I was tempted to ask her if she might be con- 
 sidered the ambitious Nelson, but of course politeness forbade. 
 tJlpian, she is the prettiest creature I ever looked at." 
 ^^ "Tes, as pretty as mere healthy flesh can be without the 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 65 
 
 sublimaiion and radiance of an indwelling soul. There is 
 nothing which impresses me so mournfully as the sight of a 
 beautiful, frivolous, unscrupulous woman, who immolates all 
 that is truly feminine in her character upon the shrine of 
 swollen vanity; and whose career from cradle to grave is as 
 utterly aimless and useless as that of some gaudy, flaunting 
 ephemeron of the tropics. Such women act as extinguishers 
 upon the feeble, flickering flame of chivalry, which modem 
 degeneracy in manners and morals has almost smothered." 
 
 His tone and countenance evinced more contempt than Sa- 
 lome had known him to express on any former occasion, and, 
 glancing at his clear, steady, grave blue eyes, she said to 
 herself, — 
 
 " At least he will never strike his colors to Admiral Adelaide 
 Channing, and I shoidd dislike to occupy her place in his 
 estimation." 
 
 " My dear boy, you must not speak in such ungrateful terms 
 of my beautiful visitor, who certainly has some serious design 
 on your heart, if I may judge from the very extravagant praise 
 she lavished upon you. I daresay she is a very nice, sweet 
 girl, and you know you told me once that if you should ever 
 marry your wife must be a beauty, else you could not Ipve 
 her." 
 
 "Very true, Janet, and I have no intention of retracting 
 or diminishing my rigid requirements, but my definition of 
 beauty includes more than mere physical perfection, — ^thair 
 satin skin, pearl-tinted, fine eyes, faultless teeth, abundant 
 silky tresses, and rounded figure. It demands that the heart 
 whose blood paints lips and cheek, shall be pure, generous, 
 and holy; that the soul which looks out at me from lustrous 
 eyes shall be consecrated to another deity than Fashion, — shall 
 be as full of magnanimity, and strength, and peace, as a 
 harp is of melody; my beauty means meekness, faith, sanctity, 
 and exacts mental, moral, and material excellence. Best 
 assured, my dear, sage counsellor, that if ever I bring a wife 
 to my hearthstone I will have selected her in obedience to the 
 advice of Joubert, who admonished us, *We should choose 
 5 
 
66 UNTIL DlUATR US DO PART. 
 
 for a wife only the woman we would choose for a friend, 
 were she a man.' " 
 
 " You expect too much ; you will never find your perfect 
 ideal walking in flesh." 
 
 " T will content myself with nothing less — I promise you 
 that." 
 
 " Oh, no doubt you will believe that the woman you marry 
 is all that you dream or wish; but some fine morning you 
 will present me with a sister as full of foibles and vanities 
 and frailties as any other spoiled and cunning daughter of 
 Eve. Of course every bridegroom classes as 'perfect' the 
 blushing, trembling young thing who peeps shyly at him 
 from under a tulle veil and an orange wreath; but, take my 
 word for it, there is a spice of Delilah in every pretty girl, 
 and the credulity of Samson slumbers in all lovers. Never- 
 theless, Ulpian, I would sooner see you in bondage to a pair 
 of white hands and hazel eyes, — would rather know that like 
 aU your race you were utterly humbugged — ^hoodwinked — ^by 
 some fair-browed belle, whose low voice rippled over pouting 
 pinli lips, than have you live always alone, a confirmed old 
 bachelor. After all, I doubt whether you have really never 
 had a sweetheart, for every schoolboy - swears allegiance to 
 some yellow-haired divinity in ruffled muslin aprons." 
 
 Dr. Grey laid his hand gently on the shrivelled fingers that 
 were busily engaged in shelling some seed-beans, and an- 
 swered, jocosely, — 
 
 " Have I not often told you, that my dear, old, patient 
 sister Janet, is my only lady-love ? " 
 
 " And your silly old Janet is not such an arrant fool as to 
 believe any such nonsense, — especially when she remembers 
 that from time immemorial sailors have had sweethearts in 
 every port, and that her spoiled pet of a brother is no ex- 
 ception to his race or his profession." 
 
 He laughed, and smoothed her grizzled hair. 
 
 " Since my sapient sister is so curious, I will confess that 
 once — and only once in my life — I was in dire danger of fall- 
 ing most desperately in love. The frigate was coaKng at 
 Palermo, and I went ashore. One afternoon, in sauntering 
 
VNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 67 
 
 through the orange and lemon groves which render its envir- 
 ons so inviting, I caught a glimpse of a countenance so serene, 
 80 indescribably lovely, that for an instant I was disposed 
 to believe I had encountered the beatific spirit of St. Eosalie 
 herself. The face was that of a woman apparently about 
 eighteen years old, who evidently ranked among Sicilian aris- 
 tocrats, and whose elegant attire enhanced her beauty. I fol- 
 lowed, at a respectful distance, until she entered the garden 
 of an adjacent convent and fell on her knees before a marble 
 altar, where burned a lamp at the feet of a statue of the 
 Virgin ; and no painting in Europe stamped itself so indelibly 
 on my memory as the picture of that beautiful votary. Her 
 delicate hands were crossed over her heart, — ^her large, liquid, 
 black eyes, raised in adoration, — ^her full, crimson lips parted 
 as she repeated the ' Ave' Maria' in the most musical voice 
 I ever heard. Just above the purplish folds of her abundant 
 hair drooped pomegranate boughs all aflame with scarlet 
 blooms tiiat fell upon her head like tongues of fire, as the 
 wind sprang from the blue hollows of the Mediterranean and 
 shook the grove. The sun was going swiftly down behind the 
 stone turrets of a monastery that crowned a distant hUl, and 
 the last rays wove an aureola around my kneeling saint, who, 
 doubtless, aware of the effect of her graceful attitudinizing, 
 seemed in no haste to conclude her devotions. As I recalled 
 the charming tableau, those lines wherein Buchanan sought 
 to photograph the picturesqueness of the Digentia, float up 
 from some sympathetic cell of memory, — 
 
 ' Could you look at the leaves of yonder tree, — 
 The wind is stirring them, as the sun is stirring me! 
 
 The woolly clouds move quiet and slow 
 In the pale blue calm of the tranquil skies. 
 
 And their shades that run on the grass below 
 Leave purple dreams in the violet's eyes I 
 
 The vine droops over my head wi<th bright 
 Clusters of purple and green, — the rose 
 Breaks her heart on the air ; and the orange glows 
 Like golden lamps in an emerald night.' 
 
 Hj Sicilian Siren finally disappeared in a gloomy arehed-waj 
 
68 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 leading into the convent, and I returned to the hotel to dream 
 of her until the morning sunshine once more bathed Conca 
 D'Oro in splendor> — when I instituted a search for the name 
 and residence of my inamorata. Six hours of enthusiastic 
 investigation yielded me the coveted information, but imagine 
 the profound despair in vi^hich I was plunged when I ascer- 
 tained from her own smiling lips that she was a happy wife 
 and the proud mother of two beautiful children. As she rose 
 to present her swarthy husband, I bowed myself out and took 
 refuge aboard ship. Here ends the recital of the first and 
 last bit of romance that ever threw its rosy tinge over the 
 quiet life of your staid and humble brother — ^TJlpian Grey, 
 M.D." 
 
 "Ah, my dear sailor boy, I am afraid thirty-five years of 
 experience have rendered you too wary to be caught by such 
 chaff as pretty girls sprinkle along your path! I should be 
 glad to see your bride enter this door before I am carried out 
 feet foremost to my final rest by Enoch's side." 
 
 " Do not despair of me, dear Jane, for I am not exactly 
 Methuselah's rival; and comfort yourself by recollecting that 
 Lessing was forty years old when he first loved the only wo- 
 man for whom he ever entertained an affection — ^his devoted 
 Eva Konig." 
 
 Dr. Grey bent over his sister's easy-chair, and, taking her 
 thin, sallow face tenderly in his soft palms, kissed the sunken 
 cheeks — ^the wrinkled forehead; and then, laying her head 
 gently back upon its cushions, entered his buggy and drove 
 to his office. 
 
 " Salome, what makes you look so moody ? There are as 
 many furrows on your brow as lines in a spider's web, and 
 your lips are drawn in as if you had dined on green persim- 
 mons. Child, what is the matter ? " 
 
 Miss Jane lifted her spectacles from her nose, and eyed the 
 ©rphan, anxiously. 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear that * Solitude ' will be filled once 
 more with people, and bustle, and din. It is the nearest 
 point where we can reach the beach, and I have enjoyed many 
 quiet strolls under its grand, old, solemn trees. If haunted 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 69 
 
 at all, it is by Dryads and Hamadryads, and I like the babble 
 of their leaves infinitely better than the strife of human 
 tongues. Miss Jane, if I were only a pagan ! " 
 
 " I am not very sure that you are not," sighed the invalid. 
 
 " Nor I. I have lost my place, — I am behind my time in 
 this world by at least twenty centuries, and ought to have 
 lived in the jovial age of fauns and satyrs, when groves were 
 sacred for other reasons than the high price of wood, — when 
 gods and goddesses were abundant as blackberries, and at the 
 beck and call of every miserable wretch who chose to propi- 
 tiate them by ofEering a flask of wine, a bunch of turnips, a 
 litter of puppies, or a basket of olives. Hesiod and Homer 
 understood human nature infinitely better than Paul and 
 Luther." 
 
 " Salome, you are growing shockingly irreverent and 
 wicked." 
 
 "No, madam, — begging your pardon. I am only des- 
 perately honest in wishing that my. salvation and future 
 felicity could be secured beyond all peradventure, by a sacri- 
 fice of oatcakes, or white doves, or black cats, instead of a 
 drab-colored life of prayer, penance, purity, and patience. I 
 don't deny that I would rather spend my days in watching 
 the gorgeous pageant of the Panathenaea, or chanting dithy- 
 rambics to insure a fine vintage, or even ofEering a Taigheirm, 
 than in running neck and neck with Lucifer for the kingdom 
 of heaven. I love kids, and fawns, and lambs, as well as 
 Landseer; but I should not long hesitate, had I the choice, 
 between flaying their tender flesh in sacrifice and mortifying 
 my own as a devout life requires." 
 
 " But what would have become of your poor soul if you had 
 lived in Pagan times ? " 
 
 "What will become of it under present circumstances, I 
 should be exceedingly glad to know. 'The heathen are a 
 law unto themselves,' and I sometimes wish I had been born a 
 Fejee belle, who lived, was tastefully tattooed, and died with- 
 out having even dreamed of missionaries, — those officious 
 martyrs who hope to wear a whole constellation on their fore- 
 heads as a reward for having been eaten by cannibals, to whom 
 
to UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 they expounded the unpalatable doctrine that, 'this is the 
 condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men 
 loved darkness rather than light.' Moreover, I confess — " 
 
 " That is quite sufficient. I have already heard^more than 
 I relish of such silly and sacrilegious chat. At least, you 
 might have more prudence and discretion than to hold forth 
 so disgracefully in the hearing of your little brother." 
 
 Miss Jane's cheek flushed, and her feeble voice faltered. 
 
 " He has fallen fast asleep over the bean-pods ; and, even if 
 he had not, how much of the conversation do you imagine ho 
 would comprehend? His sole knowledge of Grecian theogony 
 consists of a brief acquaintance with a bottle of pseudo Greek 
 fire which burnt the pocket out of his best pantaloons." 
 
 " Salome, you distress me ; and, if TJlpian had not left us, 
 you would have kept all such heathenish stuff shut up in your 
 sinful and wayward heart." 
 
 "Dr. Grey is no Gorgon, having power to petrify my 
 tongue. I am not afraid of him; and my respect for your 
 feelings is much stronger than my dread of his." 
 
 " Hush, child ! You are afraid of him, and well you may 
 be. I fear that all your Sabbath-school advantages — all your 
 Christ-ian privileges — have been wofuUy wasted; and I shaU 
 ask Ulpian to talk to you." 
 
 " No, thank you, Miss Jane. You may save yours^ the 
 trouble, for he has given me over to hardness of heart and 
 'a reprobate mind,' and his patience is not only 'clean gone 
 forever,' but he has carefully washed his hands of all future 
 interest in my rudderless and drifting soul. Let me speak 
 this once, and henceforth I promise to hold my peace. I dp 
 not require to be ' talked to ' by anybody,— I only need to be 
 let alone. Sabbath-schools are indisputably excellent things, 
 ' — and I can testify that they are ponderous ecclesiastical ham- 
 mers, pounding creeds and catechisms into the mould of 
 memory ; but these nurseries of the church nourish and harbor 
 some Satan's imps among their half-fledged saints ; and while 
 they certainly accomplish a vast amount of good, they are by 
 no means infallible machines for the manufacture of Chris- 
 tians,— of which fact I stand in melancholy attestation. I 
 
UNTIL DEATH V8 DO PART. 71 
 
 have a vague impression that piety does not grow up in a 
 night, like Jonah's gourd of Jack the Giant-killer's bean- 
 stalk; but is a pure, glittering, spiritual stalactite, built by 
 the slow accretion of dripping tears. Do you suppose that 
 you can successfully train my soul as you have managed 
 my body? — that you can hold my nose and pour a dose of 
 faith down my throat, like ipecac or cod-liver oil? In mat- 
 ters of theology I am no ostrich, and, if you afflict me ad 
 natiseam with religious dogmas, you must not wonder that my 
 moral digestion rebels outright. I shall, not dispute the fact 
 that in justice to your precepts and example I ought to be a 
 Christian; but, since I am not, I may as well tell you at once 
 and save future trouble, that I can neither be baited into the 
 church like a hawk into a steel-trap, nor scared and driven 
 into it like bees into a hive by the rattling of tin pans and the 
 screaking of horns. Don't look at me so dolefully, dear Miss 
 Jane, as if you had already seen my passport to perdition 
 signed and sealed. You, at least, have done your whole duty, 
 — ^have set all the articles of orthodoxy, well-flavored and 
 garnished, before me; and, if I am finally lost, my spiritual 
 starvation can never be charged against you in the last bal- 
 ance-sheet. I am not ignorant of the Bible, nor altogether 
 unacquainted with the divers creeds that spring from its 
 pages as thick, as formidable, as ferocious, as the harvest 
 from the dragon's teeth; and, thanking you for all you have 
 taught me, I here undertake to pilot my own soul in this 
 boiling, bellowing sea of life. I doubt whether some of the 
 charts you value will be of any service in my voyage, or 
 whether the beacons by which you steer will save me from the 
 reefs ; but, nevertheless, I take the wheel, and, if I wreck my 
 soul,— why, then, I wreck it." 
 
 In the magic evening light, which touches all things with a 
 rosy, transitory glamour, the fresh young face with its daint- 
 ily sculptured lineaments seemed marvellously and surpass- 
 ingly fair; but, like morbidezza marble, hopelessly fixed and 
 chill, and might have served for some image of Eve, when, 
 standing on the boundary of eternal beatitude, she daringly 
 put up her slender womanly fingers to pluck the fatal fruit. 
 
fj^ UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 Her large, brilliant eyes followed the sinking sun as steadily 
 — as unblinkingly — as an eagle's; but the gleam that rayed 
 out was baleful, presaging storms, as infallibly as that sullen, 
 lurid light, which glares defiantly over helpless earth when 
 to-day's sun falls into the cloudy lap of to-morrow's tempest. 
 
 A heavy sigh struggled across Miss Jane's -unsteady lips, 
 as, removing her glasses, she wiped her eyes, and said, 
 -elowly, — 
 
 "Yes; I am a stupid, unsuspecting old dolt; but I see it 
 all now." 
 
 "My ultimate and irremediable ruin?" 
 
 "God forbid!" 
 
 Salome approached the arm-chair, and, stooping, looked in- 
 tently at the aged, wan face. 
 
 " What is it that you see ? Miss Jane, when people stand, 
 as you do, upon the borders of two worlds, the Bygone fades, 
 — the Beyond grows distinct and luminous. Lend me your 
 second sight, to decipher the characters scrawled like fiery 
 serpents over the pall that envelops the future." 
 
 "I see nothing but the grim, unmistakeable fact that my 
 little, clinging, dependent child, has, without my knowledge, 
 put away childish things, and suddenly steps before me a wil- 
 ful, irreverent, graceless woman, as eager to challenge the 
 decrees of the Lord as was complaining Job before the breath 
 of the whirlwind smote and awed him. Some day, Salome, 
 that same voice that startled the old man of Uz will make you 
 bend and tremble and shiver like that acacia yonder, which the 
 ■wind is toying with before it snaps asunder. When that 
 time comes the clover will feed bees above my gray head, but 
 I trust my soul will be near enough to the great white throne 
 to pray God to have mercy on your wretched spirit, and 
 bring you safply to that blessed haven whither you can never 
 pilot yourself." 
 
 Nervous excitement gave unwonted strength to the feeble 
 limbs; and, grasping her crutches. Miss Jane limped into 
 her own room and closed the door after her. 
 
 For some moments the girl stood looking. out over the lawn,, 
 where fading sunshine and deepening shadow made fitful 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 73 
 
 ehiaroseuro along the primrose-paved, aisles that stretched 
 under the elm arches, — then, raising her fingers as if tracing 
 lines on the soft, gold-dusted atmosphere that surrounded 
 her, she muttered doggedly, — 
 
 " Yes; I am at sea ! But, if God is just, Miss Jane and I 
 will yet shake hands on that calm, surgeless, crystal sea, shin- 
 ing before the throne. So, now I take the helm and put the 
 head of my precious charge before the wind, and only the Al- 
 mighty can foresee the result. In His mercy I put my ^rust 
 So be it. 
 
 ' Gray distance hid each shining sail, 
 
 By ruthless breezes home from me ; 
 And lessening, fading, faint, and pale, 
 My ships went forth to sea.' " 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 "Mother, I am afraid Mrs. Gerome does not like this 
 place, or the furniture, or something, for she has not spoken 
 a kind word about the house since she came. She looks 
 closely at everything, but says nothing. What do you suppose 
 she thinks?" 
 
 Eobert Maclean, the gardener at " Solitude," paused ab- 
 ruptly, as his mother pinched his arm sharply and whis- 
 pered, — 
 
 " Whist ! There she comes down the azalea walk ; and no 
 one likes to stumble upon their own name when they are not 
 expecting the sound or sight of it. No; she has turned off 
 towards the cedars, and does not see us. As to her likes and 
 dislikes, there is nothing this side of heaven that will content 
 her; and you might have known better than, to suppose she 
 would be much pleased with anything. No matter what she 
 thinks, she seldom complains, and it is hard to find out her 
 views; but she told me to tell you that she approved all you 
 had done, and thanked you for the pains you have taken to 
 arrange things comfortably." 
 
 Old Elsie tied the strings of her white muslin cap, and 
 
^4 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 turned her back to the wind that was playing havoc with it« 
 freshly fluted frills. 
 
 " Mother, I heard her laugh yesterday, for the first time. 
 It was a short, quick, queer little laugh, but it pleased me 
 greatly. The cook had set some duck-eggs under that fine 
 black Spanish hen; and, when they hatched, she marched 
 ofE with the brood into the fowl-yard, where they made straight 
 for the duck-pool and sailed in. The hen set up such a din 
 and clatter that Mrs. Gerome, who happened to get a 
 glimpse of them, felt sorry for the poor frightened fowl, and 
 tried to drive the little ones out of the water ; but, whenever 
 she put her hand towards them to catch the nearest, the 
 whole brood would quack and dive,— aud, when she had 
 laughed that one short laugh, she called to me to look after 
 them and went back to the house. You don't know how 
 strangely that laugh sounded." 
 
 "Don't I? Speak for yourself, Robert. I have heard her 
 laugh twice, but it was when she was asleep, and it was an 
 uncanny, bitter sound, — about as welcome to my ears as her 
 death-rattlet Last night she did not close her eyes, — did not 
 even undress; and the hall clock was striking three this 
 morning when I heard her open the piano and play one of 
 those dismal, frantic, wailing things she calls 'fugues,' that 
 make the hair rise on my head and every inch of my flesh 
 creep as if a stranger were treading on my grave. When 
 she was a baby, cutting her eye-teeth, she had a spasm; and, 
 seeing her straighten herself out and roll back her eyes till 
 only the white balls showed, I took it for granted she was 
 about to die, and, holding her in my arms, I fell on my knees 
 and prayed that she might be spared. Well, now, Eobert, 
 I am sorry I put up that petition, for the Lord knew best; 
 and it would have been a crowning mercy if he had paid no 
 attention to my half-crazy pleadings and taken her home 
 then. What meddling fools we all are! I thought, at that 
 time, it would break my heart to shroud her sweet little 
 body; but ah! I would rather have laid my precious baby 
 in her coSin, with violets under her fiugers, than live to see 
 that desperate, unearthly look, come and house itself in her 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 75 
 
 great, solemn, hungry, tormenting eyes, that were once as 
 full of sparkles and merriment as the sky is of stars on a 
 clear, frosty night. My son, we never know what is good 
 for us; for, many times, when we clamor for bread we break 
 our teeth on it; and then, again, when we rage and howl 
 because we think the Lord has dealt out scorpions to us, 
 they prove better than the fish we craved. So, after all, I 
 conclude Christ understood the whole matter when he en- 
 joined upon us to say, ' Thy will be done.' " 
 
 The old nurse wiped her eyes with the corner of her black 
 silk apron, and, leaning against the trunk of a tree, crossed 
 her arms comfortably over her broad and ample chest, while 
 Eobert busied himself in repotting some choice carnations. 
 
 " But, mother, do you really think she will be satisfied to 
 stay here, after travelling so long up and down in the world ? " 
 
 " How can I tell what she will or will not do ? You know 
 very well that she goes to sleep with one set of whims and 
 wakes up with new ones. She catches odd freaks as some 
 people catch diseases. She said yesterday that she had had 
 enough of travel and ' change, and intended to settle and live 
 aM die right here; but that does not prove that I may not 
 receive an order next week to pack her trunks and start to 
 Jericho or Halifax, and I should not think the world was 
 upside down and coming to an end if such an order came be- 
 fore breakfast to-morrow. Poor lamb ! My poor lamb ! 
 Yonder she comes again. Do you notice how fast she walks, 
 as if the foul fiend were clutching at her skirts or she were 
 trying to get away from herself, — trying to run her restless 
 soul entirely out of her wretched body ? Come away, Robert, 
 and let her have all the grounds to herself. She likes best 
 to be alone." 
 
 Mother and son walked off in the direction of the stables, 
 and the advancing figure emerged from the dense shade where 
 interlacing limbs roofed one of the winding walks, and paused 
 before the circular stand on which lemon, rose, white, crim- 
 son, and variegated carnations, nodded their fringed heads 
 and poured spicy aromas from their velvety chalices. 
 
 The face and form of Mrs. Gerome presented a puzzling 
 
76 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 paradox, in which old age and youth seemed struggling foi 
 mastery ; and " death in life " found melancholy verification. 
 Tall, slender, and faultlessly made, the perfection of her 
 figure was marred by the unfortunate carriage of her head, 
 which drooped forward so heavily that the chin almost touched 
 her throat and nearly destroyed the harmony of the profile 
 outline. The head itself was nobly rounded, and sternly 
 classic as any well authenticated antique, but it was no mar- 
 vel that it habitually bowed under the heavy glittering mass 
 of silver hair, which wound in coil after coil and was secured 
 at the back by a comb of carved jet, thickly studded with 
 small silver stars. The extraordinary lustrousness of these 
 waves of gray hair that rippled on her forehead and temples 
 like molten metal, lent a weird and wondrous effect to the 
 straight, regular, rigid features, — daintily cut as those of Pal- 
 las, and quite as pallid. The delicate and high arch of the 
 eyebrows was black as ebony, and in conjunction with the 
 long jetty lashes formed a very singular contrast to the shin- 
 ing white tresses, which lay piled like freshly fallen snow- 
 drift above them. The brow was full, round, smooth, and 
 fair as a child's ; and more than one azure thread showed the 
 subtle tracery of veins, whose crimson currents left no rosy 
 reflex on the firm, gleaming white flesh, through which they 
 branched. 
 
 Beneath that faidtless forehead burned unusually large 
 eyes, deep as mountain 1;arns, and of that pure bluish gray 
 that tolerates no hint of green or yellow rays. The dilated 
 pupils intensified the steel color, and faint violet lines ran 
 out from the iris to meet the central shadows, while above 
 and below the heavy black fringes enhanced their sombre 
 depths, where mournful mysteries seemed to float like corpses 
 just beneath the crystal shroud of ocean waves. The pale, pas- 
 sionless lips, — perfect in their pure curves, but defrauded of 
 the blood which resolutely refused to come to the surface and 
 tint the fine satin skin, — were lined in ciphers that the curious 
 questioned and wondered over, but which few could read and 
 none fully comprehend. The beautiful, frigid mouth, where 
 all sweetness was frozen out to make room for hopelessness 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 77 
 
 and defiance, would have admirably suited some statue of 
 discrowned and smitten Hecuba ; and no amount of sighs and 
 sobs, no stormy bursts of grief or fierce invective, could rival 
 the melancholy eloquence of its mute, calm pallor. 
 
 The wan face, with its gray globe-like eyes, and the metallic 
 glitter of the prematurely silvered hair, matched in hue the 
 pearl-colored muslin dress which fluttered in the wind; and, 
 standing there, this gray woman of twenty-three looked in- 
 deed like Pygmalion's stone darling, — 
 
 " Fair-statured, noble, like an awful thing 
 Frozen upon the very verge of life, 
 And looking back along eternity 
 With ray less eyes that keep the shadow Time." 
 
 Her frail, white hands, with their oval nails polished and 
 opalescent, were exceedingly beautiful ; and, where the creamy 
 foam of the fine lace fell back from the dimpled wrists, 
 «[uaintly carved jet serpents with blazing diamond eyes coiled 
 around the throbbing threadlike pulses of sullen sang azure. 
 
 Bending over the carnations, she examined the gorgeous 
 hues, — toyed with their fragile stems, — and then, glancing 
 shyly over her shoulder like a startled fawn half expectant 
 of hounds and hunter, she glided rapidly to an artificial 
 mound crowned with a mouldering mossy plaster image of 
 Ariadne and her pard, and stood surveying her new domain. 
 
 " Solitude " filled a semicircular hollow between low wooded 
 hills, which ran down to lave their grassy flanks in the blue 
 brine of the Atlantic, and constituted the horns of a crescent 
 bay, on whose sloping sandy beach the billows broke without 
 barrier. 
 
 The old-fashioned brick house — with sharp, peaked roof, 
 turreted chimneys, and gable window looking down in front 
 upon the clumsily clustered columns that supported the 
 arched portico — was built upon a rocky knoll, of which nature 
 laid the foundation and art increased the height; and, 
 around and above it, towered a dense grove of ancient trees 
 that shut out the glare of the sea and effectually screened 
 the mansion from obs^vation. The damp walls were heavily 
 
78 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 draped with the sombre verdure of ivy, vrhose ambitious ten." 
 drils clambered to the cleft chimney-tops, and peered im- 
 pertinently over the broad stone window-sills, whence the 
 indignant housemaid remorselessly sheared them away as 
 often as their encroachments grew perceptible. 
 
 In the rear of the house, and toward the west, stretched 
 orchard, vegetable garden, vineyard, and wheat-field, whose 
 rolling green waves seemed almost to break against the ruddy 
 trunks of cedars that clothed the hillside. To the left and 
 north lay low, marshy, meadow land, covered with rank grass 
 and frosted with saline incrustations; while south of the 
 building extended spacious grounds, studded here and there 
 with noble groups of deodars, Norway spruce, and various 
 ornamental shrubs, and bounded by a tall impenetrable hedge 
 of osage orange. Before the house, which faced the ocean 
 and fronted east, the lawn sloped gently down to a terrace 
 surmounted by a granite balustrade; and Just beyond, sup- 
 ported by stone piers on the golden sands, stood an octagonal 
 boat-house, built in the Swiss style, with red-tiled roof, and 
 floored with squares of white and black marble, whence a 
 flight of steps led to the little boat chained to one of the 
 rocky piers. Along the entire length of the terrace a line 
 of giant poplars lifted their aged, weather-beaten heads, high 
 above all surrounding objects, — ever on the qui vive, looking 
 seaward, — trim and erect as soldiers on dress parade, and 
 defiant of gales that had shorn them of many boughs, and 
 left ghastly scars on their glossy limbs. 
 
 Tradition whispered, with bated breath, that in the dim 
 dawn of colonial settlement a rude log hut had been erected 
 |here by pirates, who came ashore to bury their ill-gotten 
 booty, and rumors were rife of bloody deeds and midnight 
 orgies, — all of which sprang into more vigorous circulation, 
 when, in laying the foundations of the boat-house piers, an 
 iron pot containing a number of old French and Spanish 
 coins was dug out of the shells and sand. 
 
 Melancholy tales of stranded vessels and drowned crews, 
 of a slaver burned to the water's edge to escape capture, and of 
 charred corpses strewn on the beach, thickened the atmo- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US BO FAST. 79 
 
 sphere of legendary gloom that enveloped the spot, — ^where 
 the successive demise of several proprietors certainly sanc- 
 tioned the feeling of dread and superstitious distrust with 
 which it was regarded. That the unenviable celebrity it had 
 attained was referable to local causes generating disease, ap- 
 peared almost incredible; for, if miasmatic exhalations rose 
 dank and poisonous from the densely shaded humid house, 
 they were promptly dispelled by the strong, invincible ocean- 
 breeze, which tore aside leafy branches and muslin curtains, 
 and wafted all noxious vapors inland. 
 
 A committee of medical sages having cautiously examined 
 the place, unanimously averred that its reputed fatality could 
 not justly be ascribed to any topographical causes. Where- 
 upon the popular nerve, which closely coimected the com- 
 munity with supernaturaldom, thrilled afresh; and all the 
 calamities, real and imaginary, that had afficted " Solitude " 
 from a period so remote that " the memory of man runneth 
 not to the contrary," were laid upon the galled shoulders of 
 some red-liveried, sulphur-scented Imp of Abaddon, whose 
 peculiar mission was to haunt the " piratical nest ; " and, in 
 lieu of human victims, to addle the eggs, blast the grape crop, 
 and make night hideous with spectral sights and sounds. 
 
 To an unprejudiced observer the hills seemed to have glee- 
 fully clasped hands and formed a half-circle, shutting the 
 place in for a quiet breezy communion with garrulous ocean, 
 whose waves ran eagerly up the strand to gossip of wrecks and 
 cyclones, with the staid martinet poplars that nodded and 
 murmured assent to all their wild romances. 
 
 Such was the pleasant impression produced upon the mind 
 of the lonely woman who now owned it, and who hoped to 
 spend here in seclusion and peace the residue of a life whose 
 radiant dawn ha(i been suddenly swallowed by drab clouds 
 and starless gloom. 
 
 The Scotch are proverbially credulous concerning all pre- 
 ternatural influences ; and, had Robert Maclean been cognizant 
 of half the ghostly associations attached to the residence 
 which he had selected in compliance with general instructions 
 from his mistress, it is scarcely problematical whether the 
 
80 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 house would not have remained in the hands of the real-estate- 
 broker; but, fortunately for their peace of mind, Elsie and 
 her son were as yet in blissful ignorance" of the dismal celeb- 
 rity of their new home. 
 
 Eesting her folded hands on the bare shoulders of the 
 Ariadne, which modest lichens and ofiBcious w^reaths of purple 
 verbena were striving to mantle, Mrs. Gerome scanned the 
 scene before her; and a quick, nervous sigh, that was almost 
 a pant, struggled across her lips. 
 
 " Unto this last nook of refuge have I come ; and, expect- 
 ing little, find much. Shut out from the world, locked in 
 with the sea, — no neighbors, no visitors, no news, no gossip,.T^ 
 solitary, shady, cool, and quiet, — surely I can rest here. 
 Forked tongues of scandal can not penetrate through those 
 rock-ribbed hills yonder, nor dart across that defying sea ; and 
 neither wail nor wassail of men or women can disturb me 
 more. But how do I know that it will not prove a mocking 
 cheat like Baias and Maggiore, or Copais and Cromarty? I 
 have fled in disgust and ennui from far lovelier spots than 
 this, and what right have I to suppose that contentment has 
 housed itself as my guest in that old, mossy, brick pile, where 
 mice and wrens run riot? Like Cain and Cartophilus, my 
 curse travels with me, and I no sooner pitch my fent, than lo ! 
 the rattle and grin of my skeleton, for which earth is not wide 
 enough to furnish a grave! Well! well! at least I shall 
 not be stared to death here, — shall not be tormented by 
 eye-glasses and sketch-books; can live in that dim, dark, 
 greenish den yonder, unobserved and possibly forgotten 
 and finally sleep undisturbed in the dank shade of those 
 deodars, with twittering birds overhead and a 
 sobbing sea at my feet. How long — how long before that 
 dreamless slumber will fall upon my heavy lids, — weary with 
 waiting? Only twenty-three yesterday! My God, if I should 
 live to be an old woman! The very thought threatens in- 
 sanity! Ten — twenty — possibly thirty years ahead of me. 
 No ; I could not endure it, — I should go mad, or destroy my- 
 self ! If I were a delicate woman, if I only had weak lungs 
 or a dropsical heart, or a taint of any hereditary infirmity 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 81 
 
 that would surely curtail my days, I could be tolerably patient, 
 hoping daily for the symptoms to develop themselves. But, 
 unfortunately, though my family all died early, no two mem- 
 bers, selected the same mode of escape from this bastile of 
 clay; and my flesh is sound, and I am as strong and compact 
 as that granite balustrade, and — ha! ha! — quite as hard. 
 Au pis oiler, if the burden of life becomes utterly intolerable 
 I can shuffle it off as quickly as did that proud Roman, who, 
 * when the birds began to sing ' in the dawn of a day heralded 
 by tempestuous winds laden with perfume from the vales of 
 Sicily, shut his eyes forever from the warm sparkling Mediter- 
 ranean billows that broke in the roads of Utica, and pricked 
 the memory of inattentive Azrael with the point of a sword. 
 Neither Phaedo, family, nor fame, could coax Cato to respect 
 tlft prerogative of Atropos ; and if he, ' the only free and un- 
 conquered man,' quailed and fled before the apparition of 
 numerous advancing years, what marvel that I, who am 
 neither sage nor Eoman, should be tempted some fine morning 
 when the birds are sounding reveille around my chamber 
 windows, to imitate ' what Cato did, and Addison approved ' ? 
 After all, what despicable cowards are human hearts, and how 
 much easier to die like Socrates, Seneca, and Zeno, than stag- 
 ger and groan under the load of hated, torturing years, that 
 are about as welcome to my shoulders as the ' old man of the 
 sea ' to Sinbad's ! How long ? — oh, how long ? " 
 
 The gloomy gray eyes had kindled into a dull flicker that 
 resembled the fitful, ghostly gleam of sheet lightning, falling 
 through painted windows upon crumbling and defiled altars 
 in some lonely ruined cathedral; and her low, shuddering 
 tones, were full of a hopeless, sneering bitterness, as painfully 
 startling and out of place in a woman's voice as would be the 
 scream of a condor from the irised throats of brooding doves, 
 or the hungry howl of a wolf from the tender lips of unweaned 
 lambs. In the gloaming light of a soft gray sky powdered by 
 a few early stars, stood this desolate gray woman, about 
 whose face and dress there was no stain of color save the blue 
 glitter of a large sapphire ring, curiously cut in the form of a 
 6 
 
g2 UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 coiled asp, with hooded head erect and brilliant diamond eyes 
 that twinkled with every quiver of the marble-white fingers. 
 
 Impatiently she turned her imperial head, when the sound 
 of approaching steps broke the stillness; and her tone was 
 sharp as that of one suddenly roused from deep sleep, — 
 "Well, Elsie! What is it?" 
 " Tea, my child, has been waiting half-an-hour." 
 " Then go and get your share of it. I want none." 
 "But you ate no dinner to-day. Does your head ache?" 
 " Oh, no ; my heart jealously monopolizes that privilege ! " 
 The old woman sighed audibly, and Mrs. Gerome added, — 
 " Pray, do not worry yourself about me ! When I feel dis- 
 posed to come in I can find the way to the door. Go and 
 get your supper." 
 
 The nurse passed her wrinkled hand over the drab muslin 
 sleeves and skirt, and touched the folds of hair. 
 
 " But, my bairn, the dew is thick on your head and has 
 taken all the starch out of your dress. Please come out of this 
 fog that is creeping up like a serpent from the sea. You are 
 not used to such damp air, and it might give you rheumatic 
 cramps." 
 
 " Well, suppose it should ? Does not my white head entitle 
 me to all such luxuries of old age and decrepitude? Don't 
 bother me, Elsie." 
 
 She put out her hand with a repellent gesture, but Elsie 
 seized it, and clasping both her palms over the cold fingers, 
 said, with irresistible tenderness, — 
 " Come, dearie ! — come, my dearie ! " 
 Without a word Mrs. Gerome turned and followed her 
 across the lawn and into the house, whose internal arrange- 
 ment was somewhat at variance with its unpretending ex- 
 terior. 
 
 The rooms were large, with low ceilings; and fire-pkces, 
 originally wide and deep, had been recently filled and fitted 
 up with handsome grates, while the heavy mantel-pieces of 
 carved cedar, that once matched the broad facings of the win- 
 dows and the massive panels of the doors, were exchanged for 
 costly verd antique and lumachella. The narrow passage run- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 83 
 
 ning through the centre of the building was also wainscoted 
 with cedar and adorned with fine engravings of Landseer's 
 best pictures, whose richly carved walnut frames looked almost 
 cedarn in the pale chill light that streamed upon them through 
 the violet-colored glass which surrounded the front door and 
 effectually subdued the hot golden .glare of the sunny sun. 
 The old-fashioned folding doors that formerly connected the 
 parlor and library had been removed to make room for a low, 
 wide arch, over which drooped lace curtains, partially looped 
 with blue silk cord and tassels, and both apartments were 
 furnished with sofas and chairs of rosewood and blue satin 
 damask, while the velvet carpet, with its azure ground strewn 
 with wreaths of white roses and hyacinths, corresponded in 
 color. Handsome book-cases, burdened with precious lore, 
 lined the walls of the rear room ; and on either side of a mass- 
 ive ormolu escritoire, bronze candelabra shed light on the 
 blue velvet desk where lay delicate sheets of gossamer paper 
 with varied and outre monograms, guarded by an exqui- 
 site marble statuette of Harpocrates, which stood in the 
 mirror-panelled recess reserved for pen, ink, and sealing-wax. 
 The air was fragrant with the breath of flowers that nodded to 
 each other from costly vases scattered through both apart- 
 ments ; and, before one of the windows, rose a bronze stand 
 containing china jars filled with pelargoniums, in brilliant 
 bloom. An Erard piano occupied one corner of the parlor, 
 and the large harp-shaped stand at its side was heaped with 
 books and unbound sheets of music. Here two long wax 
 candles were now burning brightly, and, on the oval marble 
 table in the centre of the floor, was a superb silver lamp repre- 
 senting Psyche bending over Cupid, and supporting the finely- 
 cut globe, whose soft radiance streamed down on her bur- 
 nished wings and eagerly-parted sweet Greek lips. The design 
 of this exceedingly beautiful lamp would not have disgraced 
 Benvenuto Cellini, nor its execution have reflected discredit 
 upon the genius of Felicie Pauveau, though to neither of these 
 distinguished artificers could its origin have been justly as- 
 cribed. In its mellow, magical glow, the fine paintings sus- 
 pended on the walls seemed to catch a gleam of " that light 
 
84 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 that never was on sea or land," for their dim, purplish Alpine 
 gorges were filled with snowy phantasmagoria of rushing ava- 
 lanches ; their foaming cataracts braided glittering spray into 
 spectral similitude of Undine tresses and Undine faces ; their 
 desolate red deserts grew vaguely populous with mirage mock- 
 eries ; their green dells and grassy hill-sides, couching careless 
 herds, and fleecy flocks, borrowed all Arcadia's repose ; and the 
 marble busts of Beethoven and of Handel, placed on brackets 
 above the piano, shone as if rapt, transfigured in the mighty 
 inspiration that gave to mankind " Fidelia " and the " Jf e»- 
 
 On the sofa which partially filled the oriel window, where 
 the lace drapery was looped back to admit the breeze, lay an 
 ivory box containing materials and models for wax-flowers; 
 and, in one corner, half thrust under the edge of the silken 
 cushion, was an unfinished wreath of waxen convolvulus and 
 a cluster of gentians. There, too, open at the page that nar- 
 rated the death-struggle, lay Liszt's " Life of Chopin," pressed 
 face downwards, with two purple pansies crushed and staining 
 the leaves ; and a small gold thimble peeping out of a crevice 
 in the damask tattled of the careless feminine fingers that had 
 left these traces of disorder. 
 
 The collection of pictures was unlike those usually brought 
 from Europe by cultivated tourists, for it contained no Ma- 
 donnas, no Magdalenes, no Holy Families, no Descents or En- 
 tombments, no Saints, or Sibyls, or martyrs ; and consisted of 
 wild mid-mountain scenery, of solemn surf-swept strands, of 
 lonely moonlit moors, of crimson sunsets in Gobi or Sahara, 
 md of a few gloomy, ferocious faces, among which the por- 
 trait of Salvator Eosa smiled sardonically, and a head of 
 frenzied Jocasta was preeminently hideous. 
 
 As Mrs. Gerome entered the parlor and brightened the 
 flame of the Psyche lamp, her eyes accidentally fell upon 
 the bust of Beethoven, where, in gilt letters, she had inscribed 
 his own triumphant declaration, "If «stc is like wine, inflam- 
 ing men to new achievements; and I am the Bacchus who 
 serves it out to them." While she watched the rayless marble 
 drbs, more eloquent than dilating darkening human pupils. 
 
fJVr/Z, VEATH US DO PART. 85 
 
 a shadow dense and mysterious drifted ovei her frigid face, 
 and, without removing her eyes from the bust above her, she 
 sat down before the piano, and commenced one of those mar- 
 vellous symphonies which he had commended to the study 
 of Goethe. 
 
 Ere it was ended Elsie came in, bearing a waiter on which 
 stood a silver epergne filled with fruit, a basket of cake, and a 
 goblet of iced tea. ' 
 
 " My child, I bring your supper here because the dining- 
 room looks lonesome at night." 
 
 " Fo, — no ! take it away. I tell you I want nothing." 
 
 " But, for my sake, dear — " 
 
 " Let me alone, Elsie ! There, — ^there ! Don't teaze me." 
 
 The nurse stood for some moments watching the deepening 
 gloom of the up-turned countenance, listening to the weird 
 strains that seemed to drip from the white fingers as they 
 wandered slowly across the keys; then, kneeling at her side, 
 grasped the hands firmly, and covered them with kisses. 
 
 " Precious bairn ! don't play any more to-night. For God's 
 sake, let me shut up this piano that is making a ghost of you ! 
 you will get so stirred up you can't close your eyes, — you 
 know you will; and then I shall cry till day-break. If you 
 don't care for yourself, dearie, do try to care a little for the 
 old woman who loves you better than her life, and who never 
 can sleep till she knows your precious head is on its pillow. 
 My pretty darling, you are killing me by inches, and I shall 
 stay here on my knees until you leave the piano, if that is not 
 till noon to-morrow. You may order me away ; but not a step 
 will I stir. God help you, my bairn ! " 
 
 Mrs. Gerome made an effort to extricate her hands, but the 
 iron grasp was relentless ; and, in a tone of great annoyance, 
 she exclaimed,: — 
 
 " Oh, Elsie! Yon are an intolerable — " 
 
 " Well, dear, say it out, — an intolerable old fool ! Isn't tha'* 
 what you mean?" 
 
 "Not exactly; but you presume upon my forbearance. 
 Elsie, you must not interrupt and annoy me, for I tell you 
 now I will not submit to it. You forget that I am not & 
 duld." 
 
86 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Darling, you will never be anything but a child to me,— 
 the same pretty child I took from its dead mother's arms and 
 carried for years close to my heart. So scold me as you may, 
 my pet, I shall love you and try to take care of you just as 
 long as there is breath left in my body." 
 
 She ended by kissing the struggling hands; and, striving 
 to conceal her vexation, Mrs. Gerome finally turned and 
 
 "If you will eat your supper, and stay with Robert, and 
 leave me in peace, I promise you I will close the piano, which 
 your flinty Scotch soul can no more appreciate than the brick 
 and mortar that compose these walls. You mean well, my 
 dear, faithful Elsie, but sometimes you bore me fearfully. I 
 know I am often wayward ; but you must bear with me, for, 
 after all, how could I endure to lose you, — you the only 
 human being who cares whether I live or die ? There, — go ! 
 Good night ! " 
 
 She threw her arms around Elsie's neck, leaned her wan 
 check for an instant only on her shoulder, then pushed her 
 away and hastily closed the piano. 
 
 Two hours later, when the devoted servant stole up on tip- 
 toe, and peeped through the half-open door that led into the 
 hall, she found the queenly figure walking swiftly and lightly 
 across -the room from oriel to arch, with her hands clasped 
 over the back of her head, and the silvery lamp-light shining 
 softly on the waves of burnished hair that rippled around her 
 pure, polished forehead. 
 
 As she watched her mistress, Elsie's stout frame trembled, 
 and hot tears streamed down her furrowed face while she 
 lifted her heart in prayer, for the dreary, lonely, lovely wo- 
 man, who had long ago ceased to pray for herself. But when 
 the quivering lips of one breathed a petition before the throne 
 of God, the beautiful cold mouth of the other was muttering 
 bitterly, — 
 
 "Yea, love is dead, and by her funeral bier 
 Ambition gnaws the lips, and sheds no tears ; 
 And, in the outer chamber Hope sits wild, — 
 Hope, with her blue eyes dim with looking long." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 37 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 TJlpian, why do you look so grave and grieved? Does your 
 letter contain bad news ? " 
 
 Miss Jane pushed back her spectacles and glanced anxiously 
 at her brother, who stood with his brows slightly knitted, 
 twirling a crumpled envelope between his fingers. 
 
 " It is not a letter, but a telegraphic dispatch, summoning 
 me to the death-bed of my best friend, Horace Manton." 
 
 "The man whose life you saved at Madeira?" 
 
 " Yes ; and the person to whom, above all other men, I am 
 most strongly and tenderly attached. His constitution is so 
 feeble that I have long been uneasy about him; but the end 
 has come even earlier than I feared." 
 
 " Where does he live ? " 
 
 " On the Hudson, a few miles above New York City. I 
 have no time to spare, for I shall take the train that leaves at 
 one o'clock, and must make some arrangement with Dr. 
 Sheldon to attend my patients. Will it trouble or tire you 
 too much to pack my valise while I write a couple of business 
 letters ? If so, I will call Salome to assist you." 
 
 " Trouble me, indeed ! Nonsense, my dear boy ; of course 
 I will pack your valise. Moreover, Salome is not at home. 
 How long will you be absent ? " 
 
 "Probably a week or ten days, — ^possibly longer. If poor 
 Horace lingers, I shall remain with him." 
 
 " Wait one moment, Ulpian. Before you go I want to 
 speak to you about Salome." 
 
 " Well, Janet, I lend you my ears. Has the girl absolutely 
 turned pagan and set up an altar to Ceres, as she threatened 
 some weeks since ? Take my word for the fact that she does 
 not believe or mean one half that she says, and is only amus- 
 ing herself by trying to discover how wide her audp^^cious her- 
 esies can expand your dear orthodox eyes. Expostulation and 
 entreaty only feed her affected eccentricities and skepticism. 
 
88 
 
 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and if you will persistently and quietly ignore them, they wiU 
 shrivel as rapidly as a rank gourd-vine, uprooted on an August 
 day." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! my dear boy. How you men do prate some- 
 times of matters concerning which you are as ignorant as the 
 yearling calves and gabbling geese that I suppose your learned 
 astronomers see driven every day to pasture on that range of 
 mountains in the moon— Eratosthenes — ^that modern science 
 pretends to have discovered, and about which you read so mar- 
 vellous a paper last week." 
 
 Miss Jane reverently clung to the dishonored remnants of 
 the Ptolemaic theory, and scouted the philosophy of Coperni- 
 cus which she vehemently averred was not worth " a pinch of 
 snuff," else the water in the well would surely run out once in 
 every twentyrf our hours.. Fow, as she dived into the depths of 
 her stocking-basket, collecting the socks neatly darned and 
 rolled over each other, her brother smiled, and answered, good 
 humoredly, — 
 
 " Dear Janet, I really have not time to follow you to the 
 moon, nor to prove to you that your astronomical doctrines 
 have been dead and decently buried for nearly three hundred 
 years; but I should like to hear what you desire to tell me 
 with reference to Salome. What is the matter now ? " 
 
 "N'othing ails her, except a violent attack of industry, 
 which has lasted much longer than I thought possible ; for, to 
 tell you the truth without stint or varnish, she certainly was 
 the most sluggish piece of flesh I ever undertook to manage. 
 Study she would not, keep house she could not, sewing gave 
 her the headache, and knitting made her cross-eyed; but,, 
 behold ! she has suddenly found out that her pretty little pink 
 palms were made for something better than propping her 
 peach-bloom cheeks. A few days ago I accidentally discovered 
 that she was sitting up until long after midnight, and when I 
 questioned her closely, she finally confessed that she had 
 entered into a contract to furnish a certain amount of em- 
 broidery every month. Bless the child ! can you guess what 
 she intends to do with the money ? Hoard it up in order to 
 rent a couple of rooms, where she can take Jessie and Stanley 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 89 
 
 to live with her. Ulpian, it is a praiseworthy aim, you must 
 admit." 
 
 "Eminently commendable, and I respect and admire the 
 motive that incites her to such a laborious course. At present 
 she is too young and inexperienced to take entire charge of 
 the children, and I know nothing of your plans or intentions 
 concerning her future ; but, let me assure you, dear Jane, that 
 I will cordially cooperate in all your schemes for aiding her 
 and providing a home for them, and my purse shall not prove 
 a laggard in the race with yours. Eecently I have been revolv- 
 ing a plan for their benefit, but am too much hurried just 
 now to give you the details. When I return we will discuss it 
 in extenso." 
 
 "You know that I ascribe great importance to blood, but 
 strange as it may appear, that girl Salome has always tugged 
 hard at my heart-strings, as if our proud old blood beat in her 
 veins ; and sometimes I fancy there must be kinship hidden be- 
 hind the years, or buried in some unknown grave." 
 
 "Amuse yourself while I am away by digging about the 
 genealogical tree of the house of Grey, and, if you can trace a 
 fibre that ramifies in the miller's family, I will gladly bow 
 to my own blood wherever I find it, and claim cousinship. 
 Meantime, my dear sister, do keep a corner of your loving 
 heart well swept and dusted for your errant sailor-boy." 
 
 He hastily kissed her cheek and turned away to write let- 
 ters, while she went into the adjoining room to pack his 
 clothes. 
 
 When Salome returned from town, whither she had gone to 
 carry a package of finished work and obtain a fresh supply, 
 she found Miss Jane alone in the dining-room, and wearing a 
 dejected expression on her usually cheerful countenance. 
 
 " Did Ulpian tell you good-by ? " 
 
 " No, I have not seen him. Where has he gone ? " 
 
 " To New York." 
 
 The long walk and sultry atmosphere had unwontedly 
 flushed the girl's face, and the damp hair clung in glossy rings 
 to her brow; but, as Miss Jane spoke, the blood ebbed from 
 
90 UNTIL DEATH U3 DO PART. 
 
 cheeks and lips, and sweeping back the dark tresses that 
 seemed to oppress her, she asked, shiveringly, — 
 
 " Is Dr. Grey going back to sea ? " 
 
 " Oh no, child ! An old friend is very ill, and telegraphed 
 for him. Sit down, dear, — ^you look faint." 
 
 " Thank you, I don't wish to sit down, and there is nothing 
 the matter with me. When will he come home ? " 
 
 " I can not tell precisely, as his stay is contingent upon the 
 condition of his friend." 
 
 " Is it a man or woman whom he has gone to see ? " 
 
 The astonishment painted on Miss Jane's face would have 
 been ludicrous to a careless observer, less interested than the 
 orphan in her slow and deliberate reply. 
 
 "A man, of course." 
 
 "Did he tell you so?" 
 
 " Certainly. He went to see Mr. Horace Manton, with 
 whom he was associated while abroad. But suppose it had 
 been some winsome, brown-eyed witch of a woman, instead of 
 a dying man, what then? " 
 
 " Then you would have lost your brother, and I my French 
 pronouncing dictionary, — that is all. Did he leave any mes- 
 sage about my grammar and exercises? " 
 
 " No, dear ; but he started so hurriedly — so unexpectedly— 
 he had not time for such trifles. Where are you going? " 
 
 " To put away my bonnet and bundle, and look after Stan- 
 ley, who is romping with the kittens on the lawn." 
 
 The old lady laid down her knitting, leaned her elbows on 
 the arms of her rocking-chair, and, clasping her hands, bowed 
 her chin upon them, while a half-stifled sigh escaped her. 
 
 "Mischief, — mischief, where I meant only kindness! I 
 sowed good seed, and reap thistles and brambles ! My charity- 
 cake turns out miserable dough! But how could I possibly 
 foresee that the child would be such a simpleton? What right 
 has she to be so unnecessarily interested in my brother, who is 
 old enough to have been her father ? It is unnatural, absurd, 
 and altogether unpardonable in Salome to be guilty of such 
 presumptuous nonsense ; and, of course, it is not in the least 
 my fault, for the possibility of this piece of mischief never 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 91 
 
 once occurred- to me! True, she is as old as TJlpian's mother 
 was when father married herj but then Mrs. Grey was not at 
 all in love wit^ her white-haired husband, and had set her 
 afifections solely on that Mercer-Street house, with marble 
 steps and plate-glass windows. How do I know that, after all, 
 Salome is not in love with Ulpian's fortune instead of the 
 iear boy's blue eyes, and handsome hair, and splendid teeth ? 
 However, I ought not to think so harshly of the child, for I 
 have no cause to consider her calculating and selfish. Poor 
 thing ! if she really cares for him there are breakers ahead of 
 her, for I am sure that he is as far from falling in love with 
 her as I would be with the ghcst of my great-grandfather's 
 uncle. Thank Providence, all this troublesome, mischievous, 
 Lucifer machinery of love and marriage is shut out of heaven, 
 where we shall be as the angels are. Ah, Salome! I fear 
 you are a giddy young idiot, and that I am a blind old im- 
 becile, and I wish from the bottom of my. heart you had never 
 darkened my doors." 
 
 The quiet current of Miss Jane's secluded life had never 
 been ruffled by a serious affaire du cwur; consequently she in- 
 dulged, little charity towards those episodes, which displayed 
 what she considered the most humiliating weakness of her sex. 
 
 While puzzling over the best method of extricating her pro- 
 tege from the snare into which she was disposed to apprehend 
 that her own well-meant but mistaken kindness had betrayed 
 her, she saw an unsealed note lying beneath the table, and, by 
 the aid of her crutch, drew it within reach of her fingers. A 
 small sheet of paper, carelessly folded and addressed to Sa- 
 lome, merely contained these words,-^ 
 
 " I congratulate you, my young friend, on the correctness of 
 your French themes, which I leave in the drawer of the li- 
 brary-table. When I return I will examine those prepared 
 during my absence ; and, in the interim, remain, 
 " Very respectfully, 
 
 " Ulpian Geet." 
 
 Miss Jane wiped her glasses, and read the note tvrice ; then 
 held it between her thumb and third finger, and debated the 
 
92 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 expediency of changing its destination. Her delicate sense of 
 honor revolted at the first suggestion of interference, but 
 an intense aversion to " love-scrapes " finally strengthened her 
 prudential inclination to crush this one in its incipiency ; and 
 she deliberately tore the paper into shreds, which she tossed 
 out of the window. 
 
 "If Ulpian only had his eyes open he would never have 
 scribbled one line to her ; and, since I know what I know, and 
 see what I see, it is my duty to take the responsibility of de- 
 stroying all fuel within reach c". a flame that may prove as 
 dangerous as a torch in a hay-rick." 
 
 Limping into the library, she took from the drawer the two 
 books containing French exercises and laid them in a con- 
 spicuous place on the table, where they could not fail to ar- 
 rest the attention of their owner ; after which she resumed her 
 knitting, consoling herself with the reflection that she had 
 taken the first step towards smothering the spark that threat- 
 ened the destruction of all her benevolent schemes. 
 
 Up an,d down, under the spreading trees in the orchard, 
 wandered Salome, anxious to escape scrutiny, and vaguely con- 
 scious that she had reached the cross-roads in her life, where 
 haste or inadvertence might involve her in inextricable difiB- 
 culties. 
 
 She was neither startled, nor shocked, nor mortified, that 
 the unceremonious departure of the master of the house 
 stabbed her heart with pangs that made her firm lips writhe, 
 for she had long been cognizant of the growth of feelings 
 whose discovery had so completely astounded Miss Jane. 
 
 The orphan had not eagerly watched and listened for the 
 sight of his face — the sound of his voice — ^without fully com- 
 prehending herself; for, however ingeniously and indefati- 
 gably women may mask their hearts from public gaze and com- 
 ment, they do not mock their own reason by such flimsy 
 shams, and Salome could find no prospect of gain in playing 
 a game of brag vnth her inquisitive soul. 
 
 In the quiet orchard, where all things seemed drowsy — 
 where the only spectators were the mellowing apples that red- 
 dened the boughs above her, and her sole auditors the brown 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 93 
 
 partridges that nestled in the tall grass, and the shy cioadsB 
 ambushed under the clover leaves — her pent-up pain and dis- 
 appointment bubbled over in a gush of passionate words. 
 
 "Gone without giving me a syllable, a word, a touch! 
 Gone, for an indefinite period, without even a cold 'good-by, 
 Salome ! ' You call yourself a Christian, Dr. Grey, and- yet you 
 are cruel, now and then, and make me writhe like a worm on 
 a fish-hook ! He told Stanley he would return in two or three 
 weeks, perhaps sooner, — but I know better. I have a dull 
 monitor here that says it will be a long, dreary time, before 
 1 see him again. A wall of ice is rising to divide us — ^but it 
 shall not ! it shall not ! I will have my own ! I will look into 
 his calm eyes ! I will touch his soft, warm, white palms ! I 
 will hear his steady, low, clear voice, that makes music in my 
 ears and heaven in my heart! It is three months since he 
 shook hands with me, but all time cannot remove the feeling 
 from my fingers ; and some day I can cling" to his hand and 
 lean my cheek against it, — and who dare dispute my right? 
 He says he never loved any woman! I heard him tell his 
 sister he had yet to meet the woman whom he could marry, — 
 and, if truth lingers anywhere in this world of sin, it finds a 
 sanctuary in his soul ! He never loved any woman ! Thank 
 God! I can't afford to doubt it. No one but his sister has 
 touched his lips, or his noble, beautiful forehead. How I 
 envied little Jessie when he put his arm around her and 
 stooped and laid his cheek on hers. Oh, Dr. Grey, nobody else 
 will ever love you as I do ! I know I am unworthy, but I will 
 make myself good and great to match you! I know I am 
 beneath you, but I will climb to your proud height, — and, so 
 help me God, I will be all that your lofty standard demands ! 
 He does not care for me now, — does not even think of me ; but 
 I must be patient and merit his notice, for my own folly sank 
 me in_his good opinion. When tl ese apples were pale, pink 
 blossoms, I dreaded his coming, and hoped the vessel would 
 be wrecked ; now, ere they are ripe, I am disposed to curse the 
 cause of his temporary absence and think myself ill-used that 
 no farewell privileges were granted me. Now I can under- 
 stand why people find comfort in praying for those they lovej 
 
94 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 for what else can I do but pray while he is away? Oh, I 
 shall not, cannot, will not, miss my wiay to heaven if he gets 
 there before me ! " 
 
 In utter abandonment she threw herself down in the long 
 yellow sedge-grass, — ^^frightening a whole covey of gossiping 
 young partridges and a couple of meek doves, all of which 
 whirred away to an adjacent pea-field, leaving her with her 
 face buried in her hands, and watched by trembling mute 
 crickets and cicadas. 
 
 On the topmost twig of the tallest tree a mocking-bird 
 poised himself, and sympathetically poured out his vesper 
 canticle, — a song of condolence to the prostrate figure who, 
 just then, would have preferred the echo of a man's deep voice 
 to all Pergolese's strains. 
 
 After a little while pitying Venus swung her golden globe 
 in among the apple-boughs, peeping compassionately at her 
 luckless votary ; and, finally, in the violet west, — 
 
 " Two silver beacons sphered in the skies, 
 Eve in her cradle opening her eyes." 
 
 Two weeks dragged themselves away without bringing any 
 tidings of the absent master; but, towards the close of the 
 third, a brief letter informed his sister that the invalid friend 
 was still alive, though no hope of his recovery was entertained, 
 and that it was impossible to fix any period for the writer's re- 
 turn. Salome asked no questions, but the eager, hungry ex- 
 pression, with which she eyed the letter as it lay on the top 
 of the stocking-basket, touched Miss Jane's tender heart ; and, 
 knowing that it contained no allusion to the orphan, she put 
 it into her hand, and noticed the cloud of disappointment 
 that gathered over her features as she perused and refolded 
 it. Another week — monotonous, tedious, almost interminable 
 — crept by, and one morning as Salome passed the post-oflBce 
 she inquired for letters, and received one post-marked New 
 York and addressed to Miss Jane. 
 
 Hurrying homeward with the precious missive, her pace 
 would well-nigh have distanced Hermes, and the dusty wind- 
 ing road seemed to mock her with lengthening curves while 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 95 
 
 she pressed on ; but at last she reached the gate, sped up the 
 avenue, and, pausing a moment at the threshold to catch her 
 breath and appear nonchalant, she demurely entered Miss 
 Jane's apartment. The only occupant was a servant sewing 
 near the window, and who, in reply to an eager question, in- 
 formed Salpme that the mistress had gone to spend the day 
 with a friend whose residence was six miles distant. 
 
 The girl bit her lip until the blood started, and, to conceal 
 her chagrin, took refuge in the parlor, where the quiet dim- 
 ness offered a covert. Locking the door, she sat down in one 
 of the cushioned rocking-chairs and looked at the letter lying 
 between her fingers. The gilt clock on the mantel uttered a 
 dull, clicking sound, and a little green and gold-colored bird 
 hopped out and "cuckooed" ten times. Miss Jane would 
 not pirobably return before seven, possibly eight o'clock, and 
 what could be done to strangle those intervening nine hours ? 
 
 The blood, heated by exercise and impatience, throbbed 
 fiercely in her temples and thumped heavily at her heart, pro- 
 ducing a half-suffocating sensation; and, in her feverish 
 anxiety, the doom of Damiens appeared tolerable in com- 
 parison with the torturing suspense of nine hours on the 
 rack. 
 
 The envelope was an ordinary white one, merely sealed 
 with a solution of gum arable, and dexterous fingers could 
 easily open and reclose it without fear of detection, especially 
 by eyes so dim and uncertain as those for which it had been 
 addressed. A damp cloth laid upon the letter would in five 
 minutes prove an open sesame to its coveted contents, and a 
 legion of fiends patted the girl's tingling fingers and urged 
 her to this prompt and feasible relief from her goading im- 
 patience. Secure from intrusion and beyond the possibility 
 of discovery, she turned the envelope up and down and over, 
 examining the seal ; and the amber gleams lying perdu under 
 the shadows of her pupils rayed out, glowing with a baleful 
 Lucifer Hght, as infallibly indicative of evil purposes as the 
 sudden kindling in a crouching cat's or cougar's gaze, just as 
 they spring upon their prey. 
 
 It was a mighty temptation, cunningly devised and op- 
 
96 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 portunely presented, and six months ago her parley with the 
 imps of ApoUyon who contrived it would not have lasted five 
 minutes; but, in some natures, love for a human being will 
 work marvels which neither the fear of God, nor the hope of 
 heaven, nor yet the promptings of self-respect have power to 
 accomplish. 
 
 Now while Salome dallied with the temper and gave audi- 
 ence to the clamors of her rebellious heart, she looked up and 
 met the earnest gaze of a pair of sunny blue eyes in a picture 
 that hung directly opposite. 
 
 It was an admirable portrait of Dr. Grey, clad in full uni- 
 form as surgeon in the U. S. Navy, and painted when he was 
 twenty-eight years old. Up at that calm,, cloudless counte- 
 nance, the girl looked breathlessly, spell-bound as if in the 
 presence of a reproving angel; and, after some seconds had 
 elapsed, she hurled the unopened letter across the room, and 
 lifted her hands appealingly, — 
 
 " No, — no ! I did not — I cannot — I will not act so basely ! 
 I must not soil fingers that should be pure enough to touch 
 yours. I was sorely tempted, my beloved ; but, thank God, 
 your blessed blue eyes saved me. It is hard to endure nine 
 hours of suspense, but harder still to bear the thought that I 
 have stooped to a deed that would sink me on» iota in your 
 good opinion. I will root out the ignoble tendencies of my 
 nature, and keep my heart and lips and hands stainless, — hold 
 them high above the dishonorable things that you abhor, and 
 live during your absence as if your clear eyes took cognizance 
 of every detail. Yea, — search me as you will, dear deep-blue 
 eyes, — I shall not shrink; for the rule of my future years 
 shall be to scorn every word, thought, and deed that I would 
 not freely bare to the scrutiny of the man whose respect I 
 would sooner die than forfeit. Oh, my darling, it were easier 
 for me to front the fiercest flames of Tophet than face your 
 scorn ! I can wait till Miss Jane sees fit to show me the let- 
 ter, and, if it bring good news of your speedy coming, I shall 
 have my reward ; if not, why should I hasten to meet a bitter 
 disappointment which may be lagging out of mercy to me ? " 
 
 Picking up the letter as suspiciously as if it had been 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 97 
 
 diopped by the Prince of Darkness on the crest of Quarantina, 
 she stepped upon a table and inserted the corner of the en- 
 velope in the crevice between the canvas and the portrait- 
 frame, repeating the while a favorite passage that she had 
 first heard from Dr. Grey's lips, — 
 
 " ' God meant me good too, when he hindered me 
 From saying " yes " this morning. I say no, — no I 
 I tie up " no " upon His altar-horns. 
 Quite out of reach of perjury 1 ' " 
 
 Young though she was, experience had taught her that the 
 most effectual method of locking the wheels of time consisted 
 in sitting idly down to watch and count their revolutions; 
 consequently, she hastened up-stairs and betook herself vigor- 
 ously to the work of embroidering a parterre of flowers on the 
 front breadth of an infant's christening dress which her em- 
 ployer had promised should be completed before the following 
 Sabbath. 
 
 Stab the laggard seconds as she might with her busy needle, 
 the day was drearily long ; and few genuine cuckoo-carols have 
 been listened to with such grateful rejoicing as greeted those 
 metallic gutturals that once in every sixty minutes issued 
 from the throat of the gaudy automaton caged in the gilt 
 clock. 
 
 True, nine hours are intrinsically nine hours under all cir- 
 cumstances, whether decapitation or coronation awaits their 
 expiration; but to the doomed victim or the heir-apparent 
 they appear relatively shorter or longer. At last Salome saw 
 that the shadowe on the grass were lengthening. Her head 
 ached, her eyes burned from steady application to her trying 
 work, and laying aside the cambric, she leaned against the 
 window-facing and looked out over the lawn, where Time 
 seemed to have fallen asleep in the mild autumn sunshine. 
 
 How sweet and welcome was the distance-muffled sound of 
 tinkling cow-bells, and the low bleating of homeward-stroll- 
 ing flocks, wending their way across the hills through which 
 the road crawled like a dusty gray serpent. 
 
 A noisy club of black-birds that had been holding an indig- 
 7 
 
98 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAET. 
 
 nation meeting in the top of a walnut tree near the gate, ad« 
 journed to the sycamore grove that overshadowed the barn 
 in the rear of the house; and Stanley's pigeons, which had 
 been cooing and strutting in the avenue, went to roost in the 
 pretty painted pagoda Dr. Grey had erected for their comfort. 
 Finally, the low-swung, heavy carriage, with its stout dappled 
 horses, gladdened Salome's strained eyes ; and, soon after, she 
 heard the thump of Miss Jane's crutches and her cheerful 
 voice, asking, — 
 
 " Where are the children ? Tell them I have come home. 
 Bless me, the house is as dark as a dungeon! Eachel, have 
 we neither lamps nor candles ? " 
 
 The orphan stole down the steps, climbed upon the table in 
 the parlor, and, seizing the letter, hurried into the dining- 
 room, where, quite exhausted by the fatigue of the day, the 
 old lady lay on the sofa. 
 
 She held out her hand and drew the girl's face within 
 reach of her lips, saying, — 
 
 " My child, I am afraid you have had rather a lonely day." 
 
 " Decidedly the loneliest and longest I ever spent, and I be- 
 lieve I never was half so glad to see you come home as just 
 now when the carriage stopped at the door." 
 
 Ah, what hypocrisy is sometimes innocently masked by the 
 earnest utterance of the truth! And what marvels of in- 
 dustry are accomplished by self-love, which seeks more assidu- 
 ously than bees for the honied drops of flattery that feed its 
 existence! 
 
 Miss Jane was pardonably proud that her presence was so 
 essential to the happiness of the orphan whom she fondly 
 loved, and gratification spread a pleasant smile over her worn 
 features. 
 
 "Where is Stanley? The child ought not to be out so 
 late." 
 
 "He went down to the sheep-pen to count the lambs and 
 look ^fter one that broke its leg yesterday. Miss Jane, are 
 you too much fatigued t-o read a letter which I found this 
 morning in your box at the post-ofBce ? " 
 
 "Is it from Ulpian? I was wondering to-day why I did 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 99 
 
 not hear from him. Dear me, what have I done with my 
 spectacles ? They are the torment of my life, for the instant 
 I take them ofE my nose they seem to find wings. Give me 
 the letter, and see whether I left my glasses on the bed where 
 I put my bonnet." 
 
 Salome went into the next room and unsnccessfully searched 
 the bed, bureau, table, and wardrobe; and in an agony of im- 
 patience, returned to the invalid. 
 
 " You must have lost them before you came home ; I can't 
 find them anywhere. Let me read the letter to you." 
 
 " No ; I must have my glasses. Perhaps I dropped them in 
 the carriage. Send word to the driver to look for them. It 
 was very careless in me to lose them, but I am growing so 
 forgetful. Eaehel, do hunt for my spectacles." 
 
 Salome ground her teeth to suppress a cry of vexation ; and, 
 to conceal her impatience, joined heartily in the search. 
 
 Finally she found tlie glasses on the front steps, where they 
 had fallen when their owner left the carriage; and, feeling 
 that adverse fate could no longer keep her in suspense, she 
 hurried into the house and adjusted them on Miss Jane's 
 eagle nose. 
 
 Conscious that she was fast losing control over the nerves 
 that were quivering from long-continued tension, Salome 
 stepped to the open window and stood waiting. Would the 
 old lady never finish the perusal ? The minutes seemed hours, 
 and the pulsing of the blood in the girl's ears sounded like 
 muttering thunder. 
 
 Miss Jane sighed heavily, — cleared her throat, and sighed 
 again. 
 
 " It is very sad, indeed ! It is too bad, — too bad ! " 
 
 Salome turned around, and exclaimed, savagely, — 
 
 " Why can't you speak out ? What is the matter ? What 
 has happened ? " 
 
 " Ulpian's friend is dead." 
 
 "Thank God!" 
 
 " For shame ! How can you be so heartless ? " 
 
 "If the man could not recover I should think you would 
 
100 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 be glad that he is at rest, and that your brother can come 
 home." 
 
 " But the worst of the matter is that Ulpian is not coming 
 home. Mr. Manton wished him to act as guardian for his 
 daughter, who is in Europe, and Ulpian will sail in the next 
 steamer for England, to attend to some business connected 
 with the estate. It is too provoking, isn't it? He says it is 
 impossible to tell when we shall see him again." 
 
 There was no answer, and, when Miss Jane wiped her eyes 
 and looked around, she saw the girl tottering towards the door, 
 groping her way like one blind. 
 
 " Salome, — come here, child ! " 
 
 But the figure disappeared in the hall, and when the moon- 
 light looked into the orphan's chamber the soft rays showed 
 a girlish form kneeling at the window, with a white face 
 drenched by tears, and quivering lips that moaned in feeble^ 
 broken accents, — 
 
 " God help me ! I might have known it, for I had a pre- 
 sentiment of terrible trouble when he went away. How can I 
 trust God and be patient, while the Atlantic raves and surges 
 between me and my idol ? After all, it was an angel of mercy 
 whose tender white hands held back this bitter blow for nine 
 hours. Gone to Europe, and not one word — not one line — to 
 me ! Oh, my darling ! you are trampling under your feet the 
 heart that loves you better than everything else in the uni-. 
 verse, — ^better than life, and its hopes of heaven ! " 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Salome, where did you learn to sing ? I was astonished 
 this morning when I heard you." 
 
 *' I have not yet learned,^ — I have only begun to practise." 
 
 "But, my child, I had no idea you owned such a voice. 
 Where have you kept it concealed so long ? " 
 
 " I was not aware that I had it until a month ago, when it 
 accidentally discovered itself." . 
 
 " It is very powerful." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 101 
 
 " Yes, and very rough ; but care and study will smooth and 
 polish it. Miss Jane, please keep your eye on Stanley until I 
 come home ; for, although I left him with his slate and arith- 
 metic, it is by no means certain that they will not part com- 
 pany the moment I am out of sight." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " To carry back some work which would have been returned 
 yesterday had not the weather been so inclement." 
 
 In addition to the package of embroidered handkerchiefs, 
 Salome carried under her arm a roll of music and an instruc- 
 tion-book; and, when she reached the outskirts of the town, 
 turned away from the main street and stopped at the door of 
 a small comfortless-looking house that stood without enclosure 
 on the common. 
 
 Two swart, black-eyed children were playing mumble-peg 
 with a broken knife, in one corner of the room ; a third, with 
 tears still on its lashes, had just sobbed itself to sleep on a 
 strip of faded carpet stretched before the smouldering embers 
 on the hearth; while the fourth, a feeble infant only six 
 months old, was wailing in the arms of its mother, — a thin, 
 sickly woman, with consumption's red autograph written on 
 her hollow cheeks, where the skin clung to the bones as if 
 resisting the chill grasp of death. As she slowly rocked her- 
 self, striving to hush the cry of the child, her dry, husky cough, 
 formed a melancholy chorus, which seemed to annoy a man 
 who sat before the' small table covered with materials for 
 copying music. His cadaverous, sallow complexion, and keen, 
 restless eyes, bespoke Italian origin ; and, although engaged in 
 filling some blank sheets with musical notes, he occasionally 
 took up a violin that lay across his knees, and, after playing 
 a few bars, laid aside the bow and resumed the pen. Now 
 and then he glanced at his wife and child with a scowling 
 brow; but, as his eyes fell on their emaciated faces, something 
 like a sigh seemed to heave his chest. 
 
 When Salome's knock arrested his attention he rose and ad- 
 vanced to the half-open door, saying, impatiently,— 
 
 "Well, miss, have you brought me any money? " 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Barilli. Here are the ten dollars that 
 
102 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 I promised, but I wish you to understand that in future I shall 
 not advance one cent of my tuition-money. When the month 
 ends you will receive your wages, but not one day earlier." 
 
 " I beg pardon, miss ; but, indeed, you see — " 
 
 He did not conclude the sentence, but waved his hand to- 
 wards the two in the rocking-chair and proceeded to count 
 the money placed in his palm. 
 
 " Yes, I see that you are very destitute, but charity begins 
 at home, and I have to work hard for the wages that you have 
 demanded before they are due. Good morning, madam; I 
 hope you feel better to-day. Come, Mr. Barilli, I have no 
 time to waste in loitering. Are you ready for my lesson ? " 
 
 " Quite ready, miss. Commence." 
 
 For three-quarters of an hour he listened to her exercises, 
 which he accompanied with his violin, and afterwards directed 
 her to sing an air from a collection of songs on the table. As 
 her deep, rich contralto notes swelled round and full, he shut 
 his eyes and nodded his head as if in an ecstacy ; and, when 
 she concluded, he rapped his violin heavily with the bow, and 
 exclaimed, — 
 
 " Some day when j'ou sing that at Delia Scala, remember 
 the poor devil who taught it to you in a hovel. Soaked as 
 those old walls are with music from the most famous lips the 
 world ever applauded, they hold no echoes sweeter than that 
 last trill. After all, there is no passion — no pathos — compar- 
 able to a perfect contralto crescendo. It is wonderful how you 
 Americans squander voices that would rouse all Europe into 
 a furore." 
 
 " I am afraid your eager desire for pupils biases your judg- 
 ment, and invests my voice with fictitious worth," answered 
 Salome, eyeing him suspiciously. 
 
 " Ha ! you mean that I flatter, in order to keep you. Not 
 so, miss. If St. Cecilia herself asked tuition without good 
 pay, I should shut the door in her face ; but, much as I need 
 money, I would not risk my reputation by praising what was 
 poor. If one of my children — ^that miserable. little Beatrice, 
 yonder — only had your voice, do you thinlc I would copy 
 music, or teach beginners, or live in this cursed hole? You 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 103 
 
 have a fortune shut up in your throat, and some day, when 
 you are celebrated, at least do me the justice to tell the world 
 who first found the treasure; and, out of your wealth, spare 
 me a decent tombstone in the Campo Santo of — of — " 
 
 He laughed bitterly, and, seizing his violin, filled the room 
 with mournful miserere strains. 
 
 " How long a course of training do you think will be neces- 
 sary before the inequalities in my voice can be corrected and 
 my vocalization perfected ? " 
 
 " You are very young, miss, and it would not do to strain 
 your voice, which is well-nigh perfect in itself ; but, of course, 
 your execution is defective, — just as a young nightingale can- 
 not warble all its strains before it is full-feathered. If you 
 study faithfully, in one year, or certainly one and a half, you 
 will be ready for your engagement at Delia Scala. Hist ! see 
 if you can follow me ? " 
 
 He played a subtle, chromatic passage, ending in a trill, and 
 the orphan echoed it with such accuracy and sweetness that 
 the teacher threw down his bow, and, while tears stood in his 
 glittering eyes, he put his brown hand on the girl's head, and 
 said, earnestly, — 
 
 "There ought to be feathers here instead of hair, for no 
 nightingale, nestled in the olive groves of Italy, ever warbled 
 more easily and naturally. Don't go out to the world as Miss 
 Owen, — ^make it call you Rosignuolo. Take the next page in 
 the instruction-book for a new lesson, and practise the old 
 scales over before you touch the new, — they are like steps 
 in a ladder, and save jumps and jars. God made your voice 
 wonderful, and, if you are only careful not to undo his work, 
 it will develop itself every year in fresh power and depth. 
 Ha ! if my poor squeaking Beatrice only had it ! But there 
 is no more music stored in her throat and chest than in a 
 regiment of rats. Good day, miss. Your lesson is ended, and 
 I go to buy some wood for my miserable shiverers." 
 
 He seized his hat and walking-stick and quitted the house, 
 leaving his pupil to gather up her music and conjecture, 
 meanwhile, whether the wood-yard or a neighboring bar-room 
 was his real destination. 
 
X04: UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 His dissipated habits had greatly impaired her faith in the 
 iiccuraey of his critical acumen touching professional matters, 
 and, as she rolled up the sheet of paper in her hands, Salome 
 approached the feeble occupant of the rocking-chair, and said, 
 rather abruptly, — 
 
 "Madam Barilli, you ought to know when your husband 
 speaks earnestly and when he is merely indulging in idle flat- 
 tery, and I wish to learn his real opinion of my voice. Will 
 ■you tell me the truth ? " 
 
 " Yes, miss, I will. I am no musician, and never was in 
 Europe, where he studied; but he talks constantly of your 
 voice, and tells me there is a fortune in it. Only last night 
 he swore that if he could control it, he would, not take a hun- 
 dred thousand dollars for the right ; and then, poor fellow, he 
 fell into one of his fierce ways and boxed my little Beatrice's 
 ears, because, he said, all the teachers in the Conservatoire 
 could not put into her throat the trill that you were born with. 
 Ah, no, he flatters no one now ! He has forgotten how, since 
 the day that I was coaxed to run away from my father's ele- 
 gant home and marry the tenor singer of an opera troupe and 
 the professor who taught me the gamut at boarding-school. 
 Miss, you may believe hhn, for Sebastian Barilli means what 
 he says." ^ 
 
 " One hundred thousand dollars ! I promise him and you 
 that if one-half of that amount can be ' trilled ' into my pocket 
 you shall both be comfortable during the remainder of your 
 days." 
 
 "Mine are numbered, and will. end before your career be- 
 gins; and, when you sing in Delia Seala, I trust I shall be 
 singing up yonder behind the stars, where cold and hunger 
 and hsart-ache and cruel words cannot follow me. Bui;, miss, 
 when I am gone, and Sebastian is over at the comer trying 
 to drown his troubles, and my four helpless little ones are 
 left here unprotected, for God's sake look in upon them now 
 and then, and don't let them cry for bread. My own family 
 long ago east me off, and here I am a stranger ; but you, who 
 have felt the pangs of orphanage, will not stand by and see 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 105 
 
 my darlings starve ! Oh, miss, the poor who cannot pity the 
 poor must be hard-hearted indeed ! " 
 
 The suffering woman pressed her moaning babe closer to 
 her bosom, and, taking Salome's hand between her thin, hot 
 fingers, bowed her tear-stained face upon it. 
 
 Grim recollections of similar scenes enacted in the old house 
 behind the mill crowded upon the mind of the miller's daugh- 
 ter, hardening instead of melting her heart ; but, withdrawing 
 her fingers, she said in as kind a tone as she could com- 
 mand, — 
 
 "The poor are sometimes too poor to aid each other, and 
 pity is most unpalatable fare; but, if your husband has not 
 grossly deceived himself and me with reference to my voice; 
 I will promise that your children shall not suffer while I live. 
 For their sake do not despond, but try to keep up your 
 spirits, else your husband will be utterly ruined. Gloomy 
 hearthstones make club-rooms and bar-rooms populous. 
 Good-by. When I come again, I will bring something to 
 stimulate your appetite, which seems to require poaxing." 
 
 She stooped and looked for a minute at the gaunt, white 
 face of the half-famished infant pressed against the mother's 
 feverish breast, and an irresistible impulse impelled her to 
 stroke back the rings of black hair that clustered on its sunken 
 temples; then, snatching her music and bundle, she hurried 
 out of the close, untidy room, and, once more upon the grassy 
 common, drew a long, deep breath of pure fresh air. 
 
 Autumn, with orange dawns, and mellow, misty moons, 
 when 
 
 "Sweet, calin days, in golden baze 
 Melt down the amber sky," 
 
 had died on bare brown stubble-fields and vine-veined hill- 
 sides, purple with clustering grapes on leafless branches ; and 
 wintry days had come, with sleety morns and chill, crisp 
 noons, and scarlet sunset banners flouting the silvev stars in 
 western skies, where the shivering, gasping old year had 
 woven, — 
 
 " One strait gown of red 
 Against the cold." 
 
106 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Kone of the earlier years of Salome's life seemed to her half 
 so drearily long as the four monotonous months that followed 
 Dr. Grey's departure; and, during the intervals between his 
 brief letters to his sister, the orphan learned a deceptive 
 quietude of manner, at variance with the tumultous feelings 
 that agitated her heart; for painful suspense which is borne 
 with clenched hands and firmly-set teeth is not the more 
 patient because sternly mute. 
 
 Wliich suffered least, Philoctetes howling on the shores of 
 Lemnos, or the silent Trojan priest, writhing in a death- 
 struggle with the serpent folds that crushed him before the 
 altar of Neptune? 
 
 If any messages intended for Salome found their way across 
 the ocean, they finally missed their destination, and reached 
 the dead-letter office of Miss Jane's vast and inviolate pocket ; 
 and, while this apparent neglect piqued the girl's vanity, the 
 blessed assurance that the absent master was alive and well 
 proved a sovereign balm for all the bleeding wounds of amour 
 propre. 
 
 In order to defray the expense of her musical tuition, 
 which was carried on in profound secrecy, it was necessary 
 to redouble her exertions; and all the latent energy of her 
 character developed itself in unflagging work, which she per- 
 sistently prosecuted early and late, and in quiet defiance of 
 Miss Jane's expostulations and predictions that she would 
 permanently impair her sight. 
 
 Paramount to the desire of amassing wealth that would 
 enable her to provide for Jessie and Stanley rose the hope 
 that the cultivation of her voice would invest her with talis- 
 manic influence over the man who was singularly susceptible 
 of the magic of music ; and, Jealously guarding the new-found 
 gift, she spared no toil to render it perfect. 
 
 Fearful that her suddenly acquired fondness for singing 
 might arouse suspicion and inquiry, she rarely practised at 
 home unless Miss Jane were absent; and, having procured a 
 tuning-fork, she retreated to the most secluded portion of the 
 adjoining forest and rehearsed her lessons to a mute audience 
 of grazing cattle, sombre pines, nodding plumes of golden- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAHT. 107 
 
 rod, and shivering white asters, belated and overtaken by 
 wintry blasts. Alone with nature, she warbled as unrestrain- 
 edly as the birds who listened to her quavering creseendos; 
 and more than once she had become so absorbed in this forest 
 practising, that twinkling stars peeped down at her through 
 the f ringy canopy of murmuring firs. 
 
 In fulfilment of a promise given to Stanley, with the hope 
 of stimulating him to more earnest study, Salome one day 
 took a piece of sewing and her music-book, and set ofiE with 
 her brother for the sea-shore, where he was sometimes allowed 
 to amuse himself by catching crabs and shrimps. The route 
 they were compelled to take was very circuitous, since stran- 
 gers were now forbidden to stroll through the grounds at- 
 tached to " Solitude," which was the nearest point where land 
 and ocean met. Following a cattle-path that threaded the 
 bare brown hills and wound through low marsh meadows, 
 Salome at length climbed a cliff that overhung the narrow 
 strip of beach running along the base of the promontory, and, 
 while Stanley prepared his net, she applied herself vigorously 
 to the completion of a cluster of lilies of the valley which 
 she had begun to embroider the preceding night. 
 
 It was a mild, sunny afternoon, late in December, with only 
 a few flakes of white curd-like cirri drifting slowly before 
 the stiffening south wind that came singing a song of the 
 tropics over the gently heaving waste of waters — 
 
 "."Where the green buds of waves burst into white froth flowers." 
 
 Two glimmering sails stood like phantoms on the horizon ; 
 and a silent colony of snowy gulls, perched in conclave on a 
 bit of weed-wreathed drift floating landward, were the only 
 living things in sight, save the childish figure on the yellow 
 beach under the bleaching rocks, and the girlish one seated on 
 the tallest cliff, where a storm-scarred juniper, bending inland, 
 waved its scanty fringe in the fresh salt breeze. 
 
 No note of human strife entered here, nor hum of noisy 
 business marts ; and the solemn silence, so profound and holy, 
 was broken only by the soft, mysterious murmur of the Jm- 
 
108 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 memorial ocean, as its crystal fingers smote the harp of rosy 
 shells and golden sands. 
 
 Clasped in the crescent that curved a mile northward lay the 
 house, and grove, and grounds of " Solitude," looking sombre 
 in the distance, as the shadow of surrounding hills fell upon 
 the dense foliage that overhung its quiet precincts, and toned 
 down the garish red of the boat-house roof, which lent a brief 
 dash of color to the peaceful picture. Beyond the last guard- 
 ing promontory that seemed to have plunged through the 
 shelving strand to bathe in blue brine and cut off all passage 
 along its base, a strong well-trained eye might follow the trend 
 of the coast even to the dim outlines and thread-like masts, 
 that told where the distant town hugged its narrow harbor; 
 and, in the opposite direction, low, irregular sand hills and 
 brown marshes crept southward, as if hunting the warmth 
 that alone could mantle them with living verdure. 
 
 As the afternoon wore away, the sinking sun dipped sud- 
 denly behind a wooded eminence, which, losing the warm 
 purples it had worn since noon, grew chill and blue as his rays 
 departed; and, weary of her work, Salome put it aside and 
 began to practise her music lesson, beating time with her 
 slender fingers on the bare juniper-roots, from which wind 
 and rain had driven the soil. Eunning her chromatic scales, 
 and pausing at will to trill upon any minor note that wooed 
 her vagrant fancy, she played with her flexible voice as dex- 
 terous violinists toy with the obedient strings they hold in 
 harmonious bondage to their bows. 
 
 Finally she pushed the exercises away, and began a fan- 
 tasus from " Traviata," which- she had heard Mr. Barilli play 
 several times ; and so absorbed was she in testing her capacity 
 for vocal gymnastics that she failed to observe the moving 
 figure dwarfed by distance and pacing the sands in front. of 
 " Solitude." 
 
 The rich, fresh tones which seemed occasionally to tremble 
 with the excess of melody that burdened them played hide- 
 and-seek among the hills, startling whole choruses of deep- 
 throated echoes, and attending and retentive ocean, catching 
 the strains on her beryl strings, bore them whither — and how 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 109 
 
 far ? To palm-plumed equatorial isles, where dying auricular 
 nerves mistook them for seraphic utterances ? To toiling mar- 
 iners, tossed helplessly by fierce typhoons, who, pausing in 
 their scramble for spars, listened to the weird melody that 
 presaged woe and wreck ? To the broken casements of fisher- 
 men's huts, on distant shores, where anxious wives peered out 
 in the blackening tempest, and shrank back appalled by 
 sounds which sea-tradition averred were born in coral caves, 
 mosaiced with blanching human skulls? What hoary hiero- 
 phant in the mysteries of cataphonics and diacoustics will 
 undertake to track those trills across the blue bosom of the 
 Atlantic or the purplish billows of the Indian Ocean? 
 
 The wind went down with the sun; silver-edged cirri lost 
 their glitter, and swift was 
 
 " The spread 
 
 Of orange lustre through these azure spheres 
 Where little clouds lie still like flocks of sheep, 
 Or vessels sailing in Grod's other deep." 
 
 In that wondrous and magical after-glow which tenderly 
 hovers over the darkening face of the dying day, like the 
 strange, spectral smile that only sheds its cold, supernatural 
 light on lips twelve hours dead, Salome's fair face and grace- 
 ful pose was as softly defined against the western sky as some 
 nimbussed saint or madonna on the golden background of old 
 Byzantine pictures. Her small straw hat, wreathed with 
 scarlet poppies, lay at her feet ; and around her shoulders she 
 had closely folded a bright plaid flannel cloak, which tinted 
 her complexion with its ruddy hues, as firelight flushes the 
 olive portraits that stare at it from surrounding walls, and the 
 braided black hair and large hazel eyes showed every brown 
 tint and topaz gleam. 
 
 Leaning her arms on the top of her music-book, she rested 
 her ctin upon them, and sat looking seaward, singing a di£B- 
 cult passage, in the midst of which her nimble voice tripped 
 on an E flat, and, missing the staccato step, rolled helplessly 
 down in a legato flood of melody; whereupon, with an im- 
 patient grimace she shnt her eyes, weary of watching the wave- 
 
110 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 shimmer that almost dazzled her. After a few seconds, when 
 she opened them, there stood just on the edge of the cliff, as 
 if poised in air, a woman whose face and form were as sharply 
 cut in profile on the azure sea and sky as white cameo features 
 on black agate grounds. 
 
 Around the tall figure shining folds of silver poplin hung, 
 heavy and statuesque, and over the shoulders a blue crape 
 shawl was held by a beautiful blue-veined hand, where a sap- 
 phire asp kept guard; while a cluster of double violets fast- 
 ened behind one shell-like ear breathed their perfume among 
 glossy bands of gray hair. 
 
 " There was no color in the quiet mouth, 
 Nor fulness ; yet it had a ghostly grace, 
 Pathetically pale," 
 
 and wan, and woful — the still face turned seaward, fronting a 
 round white moon that was lifting its full disk out of the line 
 where air and water met — She stood motionless. 
 
 Lifting her head, Salome shivered involuntarily, and grew 
 a shade paler as she breathlessly watched the apparition, ex- 
 pecting that it would fade into blue air or float down and 
 mingle with the waters that gave it birth. But there was no 
 wavering mistiness about the shining drapery ; and, presently, 
 when she turned and came forward, the orphan, despite her 
 sneers at superstition, felt the hair creep and rise on her 
 temples, and, springing to her feet, they faced each other. 
 As the stranger advanced, Salome unconsciously retreated a 
 few steps, and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Gray-eyed, gray-haired, gray-clad, gray-faced, and rising 
 out of that gray sea, I suppose I have at last met the gray 
 ghost that people tell me haunts old 'Solitude.' But how 
 came such a young face under that drift of white hair? If 
 all ghosts have such finely carved, delicate noses and chins, 
 such oval cheeks and pretty brows, most of us here in the 
 flesh might thank fortune for a chance to 'shuffle off this 
 mortal coil.' Say, are you the troubled evil spirit that haunts 
 'Solitude'?" 
 
 "lam." 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. m 
 
 The voice was so mournfully sweet that it thrilled every 
 nerve in Salome's quivering frame. 
 
 " Phantom or flesh — ^which are you ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, the owner of ' Solitude.' " 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! I beg your pardon, madam, but I took yon 
 for a wraith! You know the place has always been con- 
 sidered unlucky — ^haunted — and you are such an extraordi- 
 nary-looking person I was inclined to think I had stumbled 
 on the traditional ghost. I am neither igiiorant nor stupidly 
 superstitious; but, madam, you must admit you have an un- 
 earthly appearance; and, moreover, I should be glad to know 
 how you rose from the beach below to the top of this cliff? 
 I see no feathers on your shoulders — no balloon under your 
 feet!" 
 
 "I was walking on the sands in front of my door, and, 
 hearing some very sweet strains that came floating down from 
 this direction, I followed the sound, and climbed by means 
 of steps cut in the side of this cliff. Since j'ou regarded me 
 as a spectre, I may as well tell you that I was beginning to 
 fancy I was listening to one of the old sea-sirens, until I saw 
 your rosy face and red lips, far too human for a dripping mer- 
 maid or a murderous, mocking Aglaiopheme." 
 
 "No more a siren, madam, than you are a ghost! I am 
 only Salome Owen, ihe miller's child, waiting for that boy 
 yonder, whose sublimest idea of heaven consists in the hope 
 that its blessed sea of glass is brimming with golden shrimp. 
 Stanley, run around the cliff, and meet me. It is too late 
 for us to be here. We should have started home an hour ago." 
 
 " Who taitight you ' traviata ' ? " 
 
 " I am teaching myself, with what small help I can obtain 
 from a vagabond musician, who calls himself Signor Barilli, 
 and claims to have been a tenor singer in an opera troupe at 
 Milan." 
 
 "You ought to cultivate your voice as thoroughly as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " Why ? Is it really good ? Tell me, is it worth anything ? 
 No one has heard it except that Italian violinist; and, if he 
 praises it, I sometimes fear it is because he is so horribly dis- 
 
112 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 sipated that he confounds mj bravura runs with the clicking 
 of his wine-glasses and the gurgling of his flask. Do you 
 know much about music ? " 
 
 '"' I have heard the best living performers, vocal and instru- 
 mental, and to a finer voice than yours I never listened; but 
 you need study and practice, for your execution is faulty. 
 You have a splendid instrument; but you do not yet under- 
 stand its management. Where do you live ? " 
 
 " At ' Grassmere,' a farm two miles behind those Mils, and 
 in a house hidden under elm and apple trees. Madam, it is 
 very late, and I must bid you good-evening. Before I go, I 
 should like to know, if you will not. deem me unwarrantably 
 impertinent, whether you are a very young person with white 
 hair, or whether you are a very old woman with a wonderfully 
 young face ? " 
 
 For a moment there was no answer; and, supposing that she 
 had offended her, the orphan bowed and was turning away, 
 wiien Mrs. Gerome's calm, mournful tones arrested her : 
 
 " I am only twenty-three years old." 
 
 She walked away, turning her countenance towards the 
 water, where moonlight was burnishing the waves ; and, when 
 Salome and Stanley had reached the bend in their path that 
 would shut out the view of the beach, the former looked back 
 and saw the silver-gray figure standing alone on the silent 
 shore, communing with the silver sea, as desolate and as hope- 
 less as Buchanan's "Penelope," — 
 
 " An alabaster woman, whose fixed eyes 
 Stare seaward, whether it be storm or calm." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Doctor Sheldon, do you think she is dangerously ill ? " 
 
 "I am afraid, Salome, that she will soon become so; for 
 
 she is threatened with a violent attack of pneumonia, which 
 
 would certainly be very dangerous to a woman of her age. It 
 
 is a great misfortune that her brother is absent." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. US 
 
 " Dr. Grey reached New York three days ago." 
 
 " Indeed ! I will telegraph immediately, and hasten his 
 return." 
 
 Dr. Sheldon was preparing a blister in the room adjoining 
 the one occupied by Miss Jane, and the orphan stood by his 
 side, twisting her fingers nervously over each other, and look- 
 ing perplexed and anxious. He returned to his patient, and 
 when he came out some moments later, and took up his hat, 
 his countenance was by no means reassuring. 
 
 "Although I know that you are very much attached to 
 Miss Jane, and would faithfully endeavor to nurse her, you 
 are so young and inexperienced that I do not feel quite will- 
 ing to leave her entirely to your guardianship ; and, therefore, 
 shall send a woman here to-night who wUl fully understand 
 the case. She is a professional nurse, and Dr. Grey will be 
 relieved to hear that his sister is in her hands, for he has 
 great confidence in her good sense and discretion. I, shall 
 stop at the telegraph ofiBce, as I go home, and urge him to 
 return at once. Give me his address. Do not look so de- 
 jected. Miss Grey has a better constitution than most persons 
 are disposed to believe, and she may struggle through this 
 attack." 
 
 The new year was ushered in by heavy and incessant rains, 
 and, having imprudently insisted upon superintending the 
 drainage of a new sheep-fold and the erection of an additional 
 cattle-shed, Miss Jane had taken a severe cold, which resulted 
 in pneumonia. 
 
 Assiduously and tenderly Salome watched over her, and 
 even after the arrival of Hester Dennison, the nurse, the or- 
 phan's solicitude would not permit her to quit the apart- 
 ment where her benefactress lay struggling with disease ; while 
 Miss Jane shrank from the stranger, and preferred to receive 
 the medicine from the hand of her adopted child. 
 
 When Dr. Sheldon stood by the bed early next morning, and 
 noted the effect of his treatment, Salome's keen eye observed 
 the dissatisfied expression of his face, and she drew sad augu- 
 lies from his clouded brow. He took a paper from his pocket, 
 and said, cheerfully, — 
 8 
 
114 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Come, Miss Jane, get up a smile to pay me for the good 
 news I bring. Can you guess what this means ? " holding an 
 envelope close to her eyes. 
 
 " More blisters and fever mixtures, I suppose. Doctor, my 
 poor side is in a dreadful condition." 
 
 As she laid her hand over her left lung, she winced and 
 groaned. 
 
 " How much would you give to have your brother's hand, 
 instead of mine, on your pulse ? " 
 
 " All that I am worth ! But my boy is in Europe, and can't 
 come back to me now, when I need him most." 
 
 " No, he is in New York. You have been dreaming, and 
 forget that he has reached America." 
 
 " No, I hever knew it. Salome, is there a letter ? " 
 
 " No letter, but a dispatch announcing his arrival. I told 
 you; but you must have fallen "asleep while I was talking to 
 you." 
 
 " No such thing ! I have not slept a wink for a week." 
 
 " That is right. Miss Jane ; scold as much as you like ; it 
 will do you no harm. But, meantime, let me teU you 1 have 
 just heard from Dr. Grey, and he is now on his way home." 
 
 Salome was sitting near the pillow, and suddenly her head 
 bowed itself, while her lips whispered, inaudibly, — 
 
 "Thank God!" 
 
 The invalid's face brightened, and, stretching her thin, hot 
 hand towards the orphan, she touched her shoulder, and 
 said : — 
 
 "Do you hear that, my child? Ulpian is coming home. 
 When will he be here ? " 
 
 " Day after to-morrow evening, I hope, if there is no 
 detention and he makes all the railroad connections. I trust 
 you will prove sufficiently generous to bear testimony to my 
 professional skill, by improving so rapidly that when he 
 arrives there will be nothing left to do but compliment my 
 sagacity, and thank me for relieving you so speedily. Is not 
 your cough rather better? " 
 
 She did not reply; and, bending down, he saw that she was 
 asleep. 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 115 
 
 Doctor, I am afraid she is not much better." 
 
 He sighed, shook his head, and beckoned Hester into the 
 hall in order to question her more minutely concerning the 
 patient. 
 
 That night and the next she was delirious, and failed to 
 recognize any one; but about noon on the following day she 
 opened her eyes, and, looking intently at Salome, who stood 
 near the foot of the bed, she said, as if much perplexed, — 
 
 " I saw Ulpian just now. Where is he? " 
 
 " He will be here this afternoon, I hope. The train is due 
 at two o'clock, and it is now a quarter past twelve." 
 
 " I tell you I saw him not ten minutes since." 
 
 " You are feverish, dear Miss Jane, and have been dream- 
 ing." 
 
 " Don't contradict me ! Am I in my dotage, think you ? I 
 saw my boy, and he was pale, and had blood on his hands, 
 and it ran down his beard and dripped on his vest. You can't 
 deceive me! What is the matter with my poor boy? I will 
 see him ! Give me my crutches this instant ! " 
 
 She struggled into a partially upright position, but fell back 
 upon her pillow exhausted and panting for breath. 
 
 " You were delirious. I give you my word that he has not 
 yet come home. It was only a horrible dream. Hester will 
 assure you of the truth of what I say. You must lie still, for 
 this excitement will injure you." 
 
 The nurse gave her a powerful sedative, and strove to divert 
 her thoughts; but ever and anon she shuddered and whis- 
 pered, — 
 
 " It was not a dream. I saw my dear sailor-boy, and he 
 was hurt and bleeding. I know what I saw; and if you and 
 Hester swore till every star dropped out of heaven, I would 
 not believe you. If 1 am old and dying, my eyes are better 
 than yours. My poor Ulpian ! " 
 
 Despite her knowledge of the feverish condition of the sick 
 woman, and her incredulity with reference to the vision that 
 so painfully disturbed her, Salome's lips blanched, and a 
 vague, nameless, horrible dread seized her heart. 
 
 Very soon Miss Jane fell into a heavy sleep, and, while the 
 
11^ UNTIL DEATH ViS DO PART. 
 
 nurse busied herself in preparing a bottle of beef-tea, the 
 orphan sat with her head pressed against the bedpost, and 
 her eyes riveted on the face of the watch in her palm, where 
 the minute-hand seemed now and then to stop, as if for 
 breathing-time, and -the hour-hand to have forgotten the way 
 to two o'clock. 
 
 For nearly six months Salome had counted the weeks and 
 days, — had waited and hoped for the hour of Dr. Grey's re- 
 turn as the happiest of her life, — had imagined his greeting, 
 the bright, steady glow in his fine eyes, the warm, cordial 
 pressure of his white hand, the friendly tones of his pleasant 
 voice ; for, though he had failed to bid her good-by, fate could 
 not cheat her out of the interview that must follow his arrival. 
 Fancy had painted so vividly all the incidents that would 
 characterize this longed-for greeting, that she had lived it over 
 a thousand times ; and, now that the meeting seemed actually 
 at hand, she asked herself whether it were possible that dis- 
 appointment could pour one poisonous drop into the brimmiiig 
 draught of joy that rose foaming in amber bubbles to her 
 parched lips. 
 
 In the profound silence that pervaded the darkened room, 
 the ticking of the watch was annoyingly audible, and seemed 
 to Salome's strained and excited nerves so unusually loud that 
 she feared it might disturb the sleeper. At a quarter to two 
 o'clock she went to the hearth and noiselessly renewed the fire, 
 laying two fresh pieces of oak across the shining brass and- 
 irons, whose feet represented lions' heads. 
 
 She swept the hearth, arranged some vials that were scat- 
 tered on the dressing-table, and gave a few improving touches 
 to a vase filled with white and orange crocuses, then crept back 
 to the bedside and again picked up the watch. It still lacked 
 fifteen minutes of two, and, looking more closely, she found 
 that it had stopped. Tossing it into a hollow formed by the 
 folds of the coverlid, and repressing an impatient ejaculation, 
 she listened for the sound of the railroad whistle, which, 
 though mufiled by distance, had not failed to reach her every 
 day during the past week. 
 
 Presently the silence, which made her ears ache, throbbed 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. HJ 
 
 SO suddenly that she started, but it was only the "cuckoo! 
 cuckoo ! " of the painted bird on the gilded clock. That 
 clock was fifteen minutes slower than Miss Jane's watch ; and 
 Salome put her face in her hands, and tried to still the loud 
 thumping sound of the blood at her heart. 
 
 The train was behind time. Only a few moments as yet, 
 but something must have happened to occasion even this 
 slight delay ; and, if something, — what ? 
 
 Hester came in and whispered, — 
 
 " Dinner is ready, and Stanley is hungry. Has Miss Jane 
 stirred since I went out ? " 
 
 «No] what time is it?" 
 
 "Half after two." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! You are too fast." 
 
 " Not a minute, — begging your pardon. My brother stays 
 at the depot, and keeps my watch with the railroad time." 
 
 Salome went to the dining-room, gave Stanley his dinner, 
 and, anxious to escape observation, shut herself in the dim, 
 cold parlor, where she paced the floor until the cuckoo jumped 
 out, chirped three times, and, as if frightened by the girl's 
 fixed eyes, fluttered back inside the clock. More than an hour 
 behind time ! Now, beyond all hope or doubt, there had been 
 an accident! Loss of sleep for several consecutive nights, 
 and protracted anxiety concerning Miss Jane, had so unnerved 
 the orphan that she was less able to cope successfully with 
 this harrowing suspense than on former occasions; still the 
 sanguine hopefulness of youth battled valiantly with the 
 ghouls that apprehension conjured up, and she remembered 
 that comparatively trivial occurrences had sometimes detained 
 the train, which finally brought all its human freight safely 
 to the depot. 
 
 The day had been very cold and gloomy; and thick, low 
 masses of smoke-colored cloiid scudded across the chill sky, 
 whipped along their skirts by a stinging north-east blast into 
 dun, ragged, trailing banners. Despite the keenness of the 
 air, Salome opened one of the parlor windows and leaned her 
 face on the broad sill, where a drizzling rain began to show it- 
 self. She had read and heard just enough with reference 
 
118 ONTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 to the phenomena of clairvoyance to sneer at them in happy 
 hours, and to recur helplessly to the same subject with a species 
 of silent dread when misfortune seemed imminent. To-day, 
 as Miss Jane's delirious utterances haunted every nook and 
 cranny of her excited brain, permeating all topics of thought, 
 se recalled many instances, on legendary record, where the 
 dying were endowed with talismanic power over the secrets 
 of futurity. Could it be possible that Miss Jane had really 
 seen what was taking place many miles distant? Eeason 
 shook her hoary head, dnd jeered at such childish fatuity; 
 but superstitious credulity, goaded by an intense anxiety, 
 would not be silenced nor put to the blush, but boldly babbled 
 of Swedenborg and burning Stockholm. 
 
 Once she had heard Dr. Grey tell his sister, in answer to 
 some inquiry concerning the arcana of mesmerism, that he 
 had bestowed much time and thought upon the investigation 
 of the subject, and was thoroughly convinced that there existed 
 subtle psychological laws whose operations were not yet com- 
 prehended, but which, when analyzed and studied, would ex- 
 plain the remarkable influence of mind over mind, and prove 
 that the dread and baffling mysteries of psychology were 
 merely normal developments of intellectual power instead of 
 supernatural or spiritual manifestations. 
 
 This abstract view of the matter was, however, most unsatis- 
 factory at the present juncture; and the current of Salome's 
 reflections was abruptly changed by the sound of the loco- 
 motive whistle, — not the prolonged, steady roar, announcing 
 arrival, but the sharp, short, shrill note of departure. Soon 
 after, the clock struck four, and, ere the echoes fell asleep 
 once more in the sombre corners of the quiet parlor. Dr. Shel- 
 don drove up to the front door and entered the house. 
 Springing into the hall, Salome met him, and laid her hand 
 on his arm. 
 
 "Salome, your face frightens me. How is Miss Jane? 
 Has she grown worse so rapidly since I was here this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 "I see little change in her. But you have locked bad 
 news behind your set teeth. Oh, for God's sake, don't torture 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. HQ 
 
 me one second longer! Tell me the worst. What has hap- 
 pened ? " 
 
 " The down-train was thrown from an embankment twenty 
 feet high, and the cars took fire. Many lives have been sacri- 
 iiced, and it is the most awful affair I ever heard of." 
 
 He had partially averted his head to avoid the sight of her 
 whitening and convulsed features ; but, laying her hands heav- 
 ily upon his shoulders, she forced him to face her, and her 
 voice sank to a husky whisper, — 
 
 « Is he dead?" 
 
 " I hope not." 
 
 " Speak out, — or I shall go mad ! Is he dead ? " 
 
 " Calm yourself, Salome, and let us hope for the best. We 
 know nothing of the particulars of this dreadful disaster, and 
 have learned the names of none of the sufferers. I have little 
 doubt that Dr. Grey was on the train, but there is no certainty 
 that he was injured. The regular up-train could not leave 
 as usual, because the track was badly torn up ; but a locomotive 
 and three cars ran out a while ago with several surgeons and 
 articles required for the victims. Pray sit down, my poor 
 child, for you are unable to stand." 
 
 " Where did it happen ? " 
 
 " Near Silver Kun water-tank, — about forty miles from 
 here. The accident occurred at twelve o'clock." 
 
 Salome's grasp suddenly relaxed, and, tossing her hands 
 above her head, she laughed hysterically,^- 
 
 "Ha, ha! Thank God, he is not dead! He is only hurt, 
 — only bleeding. Miss Jane saw it all, and he is not dead, or 
 she would have known it. Thank God ! " 
 
 Dr. Sheldon was a stern man and renowned for his iron 
 nerves, but he shuddered as he looked at the pinched, wan f ace^ 
 and heard the unnatural, hollow sound of her unsteady voice. 
 Had care, watching, and suspense unpoised her reason? 
 
 Something of that which passed through his mind looked 
 out of his eyes, and interpreting their amazed expression, the 
 girl waved her hand towards the door, and added, — 
 
 " I am not insane. Go in, and Hester will explain." 
 
 He turned away, and she went back to the dusky room anA 
 
120 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 threw herself down on the sofa, opposite to the portrait of 
 the TJ. S. surgeon. 
 
 Of what passed during the following two hours, she re- 
 tained, in after years, only a dim, confused, painful memo/y of 
 prayers and promises made to God in behalf of the absent. 
 
 Once before, when Miss Jane's death seemed imminent, she 
 had been grieved and perplexed by the possibility that Dr. 
 Grey would inherit the estate and usurp her domains: but 
 to-day, when the Great Reaper hovered over the panting, 
 emaciated sufferer, and simultaneously threatened the distant 
 brother and sole heir of the extended possessions which this 
 girl had so long coveted, the only thought that filled her 
 heart with dread, and wrung half-smothered cries from her 
 lips was, — C 
 
 " Spare his life, oh, my God ! Leave me penniless — ^take 
 friends, relatives, comforts, hopes of wealth — take all — take 
 everything, but spare that precious life and bring him safely 
 ba^^k to me ! Have mercy on me, Lbrd, and do not snatch 
 him away ! for, if I lose him now, I lose faith in Christ — in 
 Thee — I lose all hope in time and eternity, and my sinful, 
 wrecked soul will go down forever in a night that knows no 
 dawning ! " 
 
 For six months she had been indeed, — 
 
 " A faded watcher through the weary night — 
 A meek, sweet statue at the silver shrines, 
 In deep, perpetual prayer for him she loved ; " 
 
 but patience, dragging anchor, finally snapped its cable, and 
 now, instead of an humble suppliant for the boon that alone 
 made existence endurable, she fiercely demanded that her idol 
 should not be broken, and, battling with Jehovah, impiously 
 thrust her life down before Him as an accursed and intoler- 
 able burden, unless her prayers were granted. Ah, what 
 scorpions and stones we gather to our boards, and then dare 
 charge the stinging mockeries against a long-suffering, loving 
 God ! Ten days before, Salome had meekly prayed, " Thy will 
 be done," and had comforted herself with the belief that at last 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 121 
 
 she was beginning to grow pious and trusting, like Miss Jane ; 
 but, at the first hint of harm to Dr. Grey, she sprang up, 
 utterly oblivious ,of the protestations of resignation that were 
 scarcely cold on her lips, and furious as a tigress who sees the 
 hunter approach the jungle where all her fierce affections 
 centre. God help as all who pray orthodoxly for His will, and 
 yet, when the emergency arrives, fight desperately for our own, 
 feeling wofuUy aggrieved that He takes us at our word, and 
 moulds the clay which we make a Pharisaical pretense of 
 offering ! 
 
 A slow drizzling rain whitened the distant hills, that seemed 
 to blanch in their helplessness as the wind smote- them like a 
 flail; and it wove a grayish veil over the leafless boughs of 
 bending, shivering . ehns^ on the long, dim avenue. The 
 wintry afternoon closed swiftly, and, in its dusky dreariness, 
 Salome listened to the tattoo of the rain on the roof, and to the 
 miserere that wailed through the lonely chambers of her soul. 
 The chill at her heart froze her to numbness and oblivion of 
 the coldness of the atmosphere, and, when a servant came in 
 to close the window against the slanting sleet, she lay so still 
 that the woman thought her asleep, and stole away on tip-toe. 
 The room grew dark; but, through the half -opened door, the 
 light from the hall lamp crept in and fell on the gilded frame 
 and painted face of the portrait, tracing a silvery path along 
 the gloomy wall. As the night deepened, that wave of light 
 rippled and glittered until the handsome features in the pic- 
 ture seemed to belong to some hierarch who peeped from a 
 window of heaven, into a world drenched with unlifting 
 darkness. 
 
 That oval piece of canvas had become the one fetich to 
 which Salome's heart clung in silent adoration, defiant of the 
 iconoclastic touch of reason and the adverse decree of womanly 
 pride ; for natures such as hers will always grovel in the dust, 
 hugging the mutilated fragments of their idol, rather than 
 bow at some new, fretted shrine, where other images hold 
 sway, commanding worship. Looking up almost wolfishly at 
 that tranquil, shining countenance, she said to her sullen, 
 mourning heart, — 
 
122 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " There are no more like him, and, if we lose him, there is 
 nothing left in life, and all hope is at an end, and finis shall 
 be printed on the first page of the book of our existence ; and 
 ruin, like a pitiless pall, shall cover what might have been a 
 happy, possibly a grand and good, human career. We did 
 not intend to love him, — no, no; we tried hard to hate him 
 who stood between us and affluence and indolent ease, but he 
 conquered us by his matchless magnanimity, and shamed our 
 ignoble aims and base selfishness, and put us under his royal 
 feet; and now we would rather be trampled by Ulpian, our 
 king, than crowned by any other man. Let us plead with 
 Christ to spare the only pilot who can save us from eternal 
 shipwreck." 
 
 Lying there so helpless yet defiant in her desolation, some 
 subtle thread of association, guided, perhaps, by the invisible 
 fingers of her guardian angel, led her mind to a favorite coup- 
 let often quoted by Dr. Grey, — 
 
 " I beard faith's low, sweet singing, in the night, 
 And, groping through the darkness, touched God's hand." 
 
 If the painted lips in the aureola on the wall had parted 
 and audibly uttered these words, they would scarcely have 
 impressed her more powerfully as a message from the absent ; 
 and, rising instantly, the orphan prayed in chastened, humbled 
 tones for strength to be patient, for ability to trust God's wis- 
 dom and mercy. 
 
 How often, when binding our idolized Isaacs upon the altar, 
 and, meekly submissive to what appears God's inexorable man- 
 dates, we unmurmuringly offer ©ur heart's dearest treasure, 
 the sacrificial knife is stayed, and our loathed and horrible 
 Moriahs, that erst smelt of blood and echoed woe, become hal- 
 lowed Jehovah-jirehs, all aglow, not with devouring flames, 
 but the blessed radiance of God's benignant smile, and musical 
 with thanksgiving strains. But Abraham's' burden preceded 
 Abraham's boon, and the souls who cannot patiently endure 
 the first are utterly unworthy of the rapture of the last. 
 
 As the girl's mind grew calmer under the breath of prayer—" 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 123 
 
 which stills the billows of human passion and strife as the 
 command of Jesus smoothed the thundering surf of Genesar- 
 eth, — she recollected. that she had absented herself from the 
 sick-room for an unusually long time. How long, she could 
 not conjecture, for the face of the clock was invisible, and she 
 had ceased to count the cuckoo-notes; but her limbs ached, 
 and a fillet of fire seemed to circle her brow. 
 
 With a lingering gaze upon the radiant portrait, she quitted 
 the parlor, and went wearily back to renew her vigil. 
 
 Hester Dennison was cowering over the hearth, spreading 
 her bony hands towards the crackling flames, and, walking up 
 to the mantelpiece, Salome touched the nurse, and whis- 
 pered, — 
 
 " Hester, what did the doctor say ? Is there any change ? " 
 
 "Hush!" The woman laid a finger on her lip, and 
 glanced over her shoulder. 
 
 There was only a subdued light of a shaded lamp mingling 
 with the flicker of the fire, and, as Salome's eyes followed 
 those of the nurse, they rested upon the figure ef a man 
 kneeling at the bedside, and leaning his head against the pil- 
 low where Miss Jane's white hair was strewn in disorder. 
 
 A cry of delight, which she had neither the prudence nor 
 power to repress, rang through the silent chamber, startling 
 its inmates, and partially arousing the invalid. Salome for- 
 got that life and death were grappHng over the prostrate form 
 of the aged woman, — forgot everything but the supreme joy 
 of knowing that her idol had not been rudely shattered. 
 
 Springing to the bedside, she put out her hands, and ex- 
 claimed, rapturously: 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Grey ! Were you much hurt ? Thank God, you 
 are alive and here ! Injieed, He is merciful — " 
 
 "Hush! Have you no prudence? Quit the room, or be 
 quiet." 
 
 Dr. Grey lifted his haggard face from the pillow, and the 
 light showed it pallid and worn by acute suffering, while a 
 strip of plaster pressed together the edges of a deep cut on 
 hia cheek. His clothes glistened with sleet, and bore stains 
 
124 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 that in daylight were crimson, though now they were only 
 ominously dark. 
 
 The stern tones of his voice, suppressed though it was, 
 stung the girl's heart; and she answered, in a pleading whis- 
 per,— 
 
 " Only tell me that you are not severely injured. Speak 
 one kind word to me ! " 
 
 "I am not dangerously hurt. Hush! Eemember life 
 hangs in the balance." 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Grey ! will you not even shake hands with me, 
 after all these dreary months of absence? This is h&rd, in- 
 deed." 
 
 She had stood at his side, with her hands extended im- 
 ploringly ; and now he moved cautiously, and, silently holding 
 up one hand swathed in linen bands, pointed to his left arm, 
 which was tightly splintered and bandaged. 
 
 The mute gesture explained all, and, sinking to the carpet, 
 she pressed her lips to the linen folds, and to the coat-sleeve, 
 where sleet and blood-spots mingled. 
 
 He could not have prevented her, even had he desired to do 
 so ; but at that instant his sister moaned faintly, and, bending 
 forward to examine her countenance, he seemed for some min- 
 utes unconscious of the presence of the form crouching close 
 by his side. 
 
 After a little while he looked down, sighed, and whis- 
 pered, — 
 
 " My child, do go to bed. You can do no good here, and too 
 much watching has already unstrung your nerves. Go to your 
 room, and pray that God will spare our dear Janet to us." 
 
 Was this the welcome for which she had waited and longed 
 —of which she had dreamed by day and by night? Not a 
 touch, barely a brief, impatient glance, and a few reproving, 
 indiiferent words. She had rashly dared fate to cheat her out 
 of this long-anticipated greeting, and the grim, grinning crone 
 had accepted the challenge, and now triumphantly snapped 
 her withered fingers in the face of the vanquished. 
 
 When coveted fruit that has been hungrily watched through 
 the slow, tedious process of ripening finally falls rosy and 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 125 
 
 mellow into eagerly uplifted fingers, and breaks in a shower 
 of bitter dust on the sharpened and fastidious palate, it rarely 
 happens that the half-famished dupe relishes the taste; and 
 Salome rose, feeling stunned and mocked. 
 
 In one corner of the room stood a chintz-covered lounge, 
 and, creeping to it, she laid herself down; and, shading her 
 features with her hand, looked through her fingers at the pale, 
 grieved face of the anxious brother. Sometimes he stood up, 
 studying the placid countenance of the sufferer, and now and 
 then he walked softly to the fire-place, and held whispered 
 conferences with Hester relative to the course of treatment 
 that had beeii pursued. 
 
 But everywhere Salome's eyes followed him; and finally, 
 when he chanced to glance at the couch, and noticed its occu- 
 pant, whom he imagined fast asleep, he pointed to a blanket 
 lying on a chair, and directed Hester to spread it over the 
 girlish figure. The thoughtful act warmed the orphan's 
 heart more eflfeetually than the thick woollen cover ; and when, 
 he sat down in an easy-chair close to the bed, and within 
 range of Salome's vision, she yielded to the comforting con- 
 sciousness of his presence. And, while her lips were moving 
 in thanks for his preservation and return, exhausted nature 
 seized her dues, and the girl fell asleep and dreamed that Dr. 
 Grey stood by the lounge, and whispered, — 
 
 " No star goes down, but climbs in other skies ; 
 The rose of sunset folds its glory up 
 To burst again from out the heart of dawn, 
 And love is nerer lost, though hearts run waste, 
 And sorrow makes the chastened heart a seer ; 
 The deepest dark reveals the starriest hope. 
 And Faith can trust her heaven behind the veiL" 
 
126 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 CHAPTBE X. 
 
 " Yes, Hester, the danger is past ; and, if the weather con- 
 tinues favorable, my sister will soon be able to sit up. My 
 gratitude prompts me to erect an altar here, where the mercy 
 of God stayed the Destroying Angel, as in ancient days David 
 consecrated the threshing-floor of Araunah." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, if you can possibly spare me, I should like to 
 go back to town to-day as Dr. Sheldon has sent for me to 
 take charge of a patient at his Infirmary." 
 
 " You ought not to desert me while I am so comparatively 
 helpless; and I should be glad to have you remain, at least 
 until I recover the use of my hands." 
 
 " Miss Salome can take my place, and do all that is really 
 necessary." 
 
 " The child is so inexperienced I am almost afraid to trust 
 her; still—" 
 
 " Don't speak so loud. She is standing behind the window- 
 curtain." 
 
 " Indeed ! I thought : she left the room when I entered it. 
 Of course, Hester, I will not detain you if it is necessary that 
 you should be at the Infirmary; but I give you up very re- 
 luctantly. Salome, if you are at leisure, please come and 
 see how Hester dresses my hand and arm, for I must rely 
 upon your kind services when she leaves us. Notice the man- 
 ner in which she winds the bandages. There, Hester, — not 
 quite so tight." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I never had an education, and am at best an 
 ignorant, poor soul; therefore, not knowing what to think 
 about many curious things that happen in sick-rooms, I should 
 be glad to hear what you have to say concerning that vision 
 of your sister. Eemember, she saw it at the very minute 
 that the accident happened. I don't believe in spirit-rap- 
 ping, and such stuff as dancing tables, and spinning chairs, 
 and pianos that play tunes when no human being is near 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 127 
 
 them; but I have heard and seen things that made the hair 
 rise and stand on my head." 
 
 The circumstance that occurred three days since is cer- 
 tainly' rather singular and remarkable, but by no means in- 
 explicable. My sister knew that I was then travelling by rail- 
 road, — that I would, without some unusual delay, reach the 
 depot at a certain hour, and, being in a delirious condition, 
 her mind reverted to the probability of some occurrence that 
 might detain me. Having always evinced a peculiar aversion 
 to railroads, which she deems the most unsafe method of trav- 
 elling, she had a feverish dream that took its coloring from her 
 excited apprehension of danger to me; and this vision, born 
 of delirium, was so vivid that she could not distinguish phan- 
 tom from reality. In ninety-nine cases out of every hundred 
 similar ones, the dream passes without fulfilment, and is rarely 
 recollected or mentioned; but the hundredth — which may 
 chance by some surprising coincidence to seem verified — is 
 noised abroad as supernatural, and carefully preserved among 
 ' well-authenticated spiritual manifestations.' If I had es- 
 caped injury, the freaks of my sister's delirium would have 
 made no more impression on your mind than the ravings of a 
 lunatic ; and, since I was so unfortunate as to be bruised and 
 burned, you must not allow yourself to grow superstitious, 
 and attach undue importance to a circumstance which was 
 entirely accidental, and only startling because so exceedingly 
 rare. Presentiments, especially when occurring in cases of 
 fever, are merely Will-o-the-wisps floating about in excited, 
 diseased brains. While at sea, and constantly associated with 
 sailors, whose minds constitute the most favorable and fruit- 
 ful soil for the production of phantasmagoria and diablerie, 
 I had frequent opportunities of testing the fallacy and ab- 
 surdity of so-called 'presentiments and forebodings.' I am 
 afraid it is the absence of spirituality in the hearts of the 
 people, that drives this generation to seek supematuralism in 
 the realm of merely normal physics. The only true spiritual- 
 ism is that which emanates from the Holy Ghost, — conquers 
 sinful impulses, and makes a Christian heart the temple at 
 God." 
 
128 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Here Miss Jane called Hester into the adjoining room; 
 and turning to Salome, Dr. Grey added, — 
 
 " Notwithstanding the vaunted destruction of the ancient 
 Hydra of superstition by the darts and javelins of modern 
 rationalism, and the ponderous hot irons of empirics, it is 
 undeniably true that the habit of ' seeking after a sign ' sur- 
 vived the generation of Scribes and Pharisees whom Christ 
 rebuked ; and manifests itself in the middle of the nineteenth 
 century by the voracity with which merely material phe- 
 nomena are seized as unmistakable indications of preternat- 
 ural agencies. The innate leaven of superstition triumphs 
 over common sense and scientific realism, and men and women 
 are awed by coincidences that reason scouts, but credulity 
 receives with open arms. Salome, I regret, exceedingly that 
 I am forced to trouble you, but there are some important let- 
 ters which I wish to mail to-day, and you will greatly oblige 
 me by acting as amanuensis while I dictate. My present dis- 
 abled condition must apologize for the heavy tax which I am 
 imposing upon your patience and industry. Will you come to 
 the library 
 
 She made no protestations of willingness to serve him, and 
 confessed no delight at the prospect of being useful, but merely 
 bowed and smiled, with an expression in her eyes that puz- 
 zled hjm. 
 
 Seated at the library-table, and writing down the sentences 
 that he dictated while pacing the floor, Salome passed one of 
 the happiest hours of her life; for it brought the blessed as- 
 surance that, for the present at least, he acknowledged his need 
 of her. 
 
 One of the letters was addressed to Mr. Gerard Granville, 
 an attache of the American legation at Paris, and referred 
 principally to financial affairs; and the other, directed to 
 Muriel Manton, contained an urgent request that she and her 
 governess would leave New York as speedily as possible and 
 become inmates .of his sister's house. 
 
 When she had folded the letters and sealed them with his 
 favorite emerald signet, — ^bearing the words, " Frangas non 
 VUcies," — Salome looked up, and asked, — 
 
UmiL DEATH US DO PART. 129 
 
 " How old is your ward. Miss Manton ? " 
 
 " About your age, — though she looks much more childish." 
 
 " Pretty, of course ? " 
 
 "Why 'of course'?" 
 
 " Simply because in novels they are always painted as pretty 
 as Persephone ; and the only wards I ever knew happen to be 
 fictitious characters." 
 
 " Novels are by no means infallible mirrors of nature, and 
 few wards are as attractive as my black-eyed pet. Muriel 
 will be very handsome, I hope, when she is grown; but now 
 she impresses me as merely sweet, piquant, and pretty." 
 
 " Did you know her prior to your recent visit ? " 
 
 " Yes ; her father's house was my home whenever I chanced 
 to be in New York, and I have seen her, "occasionally, since 
 she was a little girl. For your sake, as well as mine, I am 
 glad she vnll reside here, because I hope she will prove in 
 every respect a pleasant companion for you." 
 
 "Thank you; but, unfortunately, that is one luxury of 
 which I never felt the need, and with which, permit me to 
 tell you, I can readily dispense. I have little respect for 
 women, and no desire to be wearied with their inane gar- 
 rulity." 
 
 She leaned back in her chair, and tapped restlessly vnth 
 the end of the pen-staff on the morocco-covered table. 
 
 Dr. Grey looked down steadily and gravely into her provok~ 
 ingly defiant face, and replied very coldly, — 
 
 "Were I in your place, I think I should jealously guard 
 my lips from the hasty utterance of sentiments that, if un- 
 feigned, ought to bring a blush to every true woman's cheek ; 
 for I fear that she who has no respect for her own sex bids 
 fair to disgrace it." 
 
 A scarlet wave rolled up from throat to temples, and the 
 lurking yellow gleamed in her eyes, but the bend of her nostril 
 and curve of her lips did not relax. 
 
 "Which is preferable, hypocrisy or irreverence?" 
 
 "Both are unpardonable, in a woman." 
 
 "Where is your vast charity. Dr. Grey?" 
 
 " Busy in sheltering that lofty ideal of genuine female per- 
 9 
 
130 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 fection which you seem so pertinaciously ambitious to sully 
 and degrade." 
 
 " You are harsh, and scarcely courteous." 
 
 " You will never find me less so when you vauntingly ex- 
 hibit such mournful blemishes of character." 
 
 "At least, sir, I am honest, and show myself just what 
 God saw fit to allow misfortune to make me." 
 
 " Hush, Salome ! Do not add impiousness to the long cata- 
 logue of your sinful follies. I hoped that there was a favor- 
 able change in you before I left home, but I very much fear 
 that, instead of exorcising the one evil spirit that possessed 
 you, you have swept, and garnished, and settled yourself com- 
 fortably with seven new ones." 
 
 " And, like E. Chaim Vital, you come to pronounce Nidui! 
 and banish my diabolical guests. If cauterization cures moral 
 ulcers as effectually as those that afHict the flesh, then, verily, 
 you intend I shall be clean and whole. You are losing 
 patience with your graceless neophyte." 
 
 " Yes, Salome ; because forced to lose faith in her inclina- 
 tion and capacity to sublimate her erring nature. Once for 
 all, let me say that habitual depreciation of your own sex will 
 not elevate you in the estimation of mine ; for, however fallen 
 you may find mankind, they nevertheless realize amid their 
 degradation that, — 
 
 ' 'Tis somewhat to have known, albeit in vain, 
 One woman in this sorrowful, bad earth, 
 Whose very loss can yet bequeath to pain 
 New faith in worth. ' " 
 
 There was no taunt, no bitterness, in his voice ; but grievouo 
 disappointment, too deep for utterance; and the girl winced 
 under it, though only the flush burning on cheek and brow 
 attested her vulnerability. 
 
 "Eemember, sir, that humanity was not moulded entirely 
 from one stratum of pipe-clay. Only a few wear paint, enam- 
 elling, and gold as delicate costly Sevres; and, while the ma- 
 jority are only coarse pottery, it is scarcely kind — certainly 
 not generous — in dainty, transparent china, belonging to 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 131 
 
 king's palaces, to pity or denounce the humble Delft or Wedge- 
 woodware doing duty in laborer's cottages." 
 
 " Very true, my poor little warped, blotched bit of perverse 
 pottery ; but of one vital truth permit me to assure you : the 
 purity and elevation of our race depend upon preserving in- 
 violate in the hearts of men a belief that women's natures are 
 crystalline as that celebrated glass once made at Murano, 
 which was so exceedingly fine and delicate that it burst into 
 fragments if poison was poured into it." 
 
 " Then, obviously, I am no Venetian goblet ; else long ago 
 I should have shattered under the bitter, black juices poured 
 by fate. It seems I am not worthy to touch the lips of doges 
 and grand dukes ; but let them look to it that some day, when 
 spent and thirsty, they stretch not their regal hands for the 
 common clay that holds what all their costly, dainty frag- 
 ments can never yield. Nous verrons ! ' The stone which the 
 builders rejected has become the head of the corner.' " 
 
 Dr. Grey had resumed his walk, but the half-suppressed, 
 passionate protest, whose underswell began to agitate her 
 voice, arrested his attention, and he came to the table and 
 stood close to the orphan. 
 
 " What is the matter with my headstrong young friend ? " 
 
 She made no answer; but her elfish eyes sought his, and 
 braved their quiet rebuke. 
 
 " This is the last opportunity I shall offer you to tell me 
 frankly what troubles you. Can I help you in any way? If 
 so, command me." 
 
 " Once you could have helped me, but that time has passed." 
 
 " Perhaps not. Try me." 
 
 " It is too late. You have lost faith in me." 
 
 "No; you have lost all faith in yourself, if you ever in- 
 dulged any, — which I very much doubt. It is you who are 
 faithless concerning your own defective character." 
 
 " Not I, indeed ! I know it rather too well, either to set it 
 aloft for adoration or to trample it in the mire. When your 
 faith in me expired, mine was born. Do you recollect that 
 beautiful painted window in Lincoln Cathedral which the 
 untutored fingers of an apprentice fashioned out of the de- 
 
132 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Bpised bits of glass rejected by the fastidious master-builder ? 
 It is so vastly superior to every other in the church that the 
 vanquished artist could not survive the chagrin and mortifi- 
 cation, and killed himself. My faith is very strong, that, 
 please God, I shall some day show you similar handiwork." 
 
 " You grow enigmatical, and I do not fully understand 
 you." 
 
 " No ; you do not in the least comprehend me. The girl 
 whom you left six months ago has changed in many respects." 
 
 " For better, or for worse ? " 
 
 " Perhaps neither one nor yet the other ; but, at least, sir, 
 ' my future will not copy fair my past.' " 
 
 " Since my return, I have noticed an alteration in your de- 
 portment, which, I regret to say, I cannot consider an im- 
 provement ; and I should feel inclined to attribute your rest- 
 less impatience to nervous disease were I not assured by your 
 appearance that you are in perfect health. Eemember, that 
 quietude of manner constitutes a woman's greatest charm; 
 and, unfortunately, you seem almost a mimic maelstrom. But, 
 pardon me, I did not intend to lecture you ; and, hoping all 
 things, I will patiently wait for the future that you seem to 
 have dedicated to some special object. I will try to have 
 faith in my perverse little friend, though she sometimes 
 renders it a difficult task. May I trouble you to stamp those 
 letters?" 
 
 He could not analyze the change that passed swiftly across 
 her face, nor the emotion that made her suddenly clinch her 
 hands till the rosy nails grew purple. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, don't you believe that if Judas Iscariot had ' 
 only resisted the temptation of the thirty pieces of silver, 
 and stood by his master instead of betraying him, that his 
 position in heaven would have been far more exalted than 
 that of Peter, or even of John?" 
 
 "That is a question which I have never pondered, and am 
 not prepared to discuss. Why do you propound it ? " 
 
 She did not answer immediately; and, when she spoke, her 
 glittering eyes softened in their expression, and resembled 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 133 
 
 stars rising through the golden mist of lingering sunset splen- 
 dor. 
 
 "God gave you a nobler heart than mine, and left it an 
 easy, pleasant matter for you to be good; while, struggle as 
 I may, I am constantly in danger of tumbling into some 
 slough of iniquity, or setting up false gods for my soul to 
 bow down to. Because it is so much more difficult for me to 
 do right than for you, it is only just that my reward should 
 be correspondingly greater." 
 
 "I am neither John nor Peter, nor are you Judas; and 
 only He who knows our mutual faults and follies, our 
 triumphs and defeats in the life-long campaign with sin, can 
 judge us equitably. I am too painfully conscious of my own 
 imperfections not to sympathize earnestly with the tempta- 
 tions that may assaU you; and, moreover, we should never 
 lose sight of the fact, — 
 
 ' What's done we partly may compute, 
 But know not what's resisted.' " 
 
 "Dr. Grey, you have great confidence in the efficacy of 
 prayer ? " 
 
 " Yes ; for without it human lives are rudderless, drifting 
 to speedy wreck and ruin." 
 
 " If I ask a favor, will you grant it ? " 
 
 " Have I ever denied you anything that you asked ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, — ^your good opinion." 
 
 " I knew that had you really desired that, you would long 
 fiince have rendered it impossible for me to withhold it. But 
 to the point, — ^what is your petition? " 
 
 " I want you to pray for me." 
 
 " Salome, are you serious ? Are you really in earnest ? " 
 
 " Mournfully in earnest." 
 
 "Then rest satisfied that henceforth you will always have 
 a place in my prayer ; but do not forget the greater necessity 
 of praying for yourself. Now, tell me how you have been em- 
 ployed during my long absence. Where are the accumulated 
 exercises which I promised to examine and correct when I 
 returned?" 
 
134 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Promised whom ? " 
 
 "You." 
 
 " You forget that I did not see you the day you left, and 
 that you did not even bid me good-by." 
 
 " I referred to your French exercises in a brief and hurried 
 note that I left for you." 
 
 " Left where ? I never received — never heard of it." 
 
 " I laid it upon your plate, where I supposed you would 
 certainly notice it when you came home to dinner," 
 
 " Why did not you give it to Miss Jane ? " 
 
 " Simply because she was not in the room when I wrote it. 
 It is rather surprising that it escaped your observation, as I 
 laid it in a conspicuous place." 
 
 She did not deem it necessary to inform him that on that 
 unlucky day she had suddenly lost her appetite, and failed to 
 go to the table ; and now she put her fingers over her eyes to 
 conceal the blaze of joyful light that irradiated them, as he 
 mentioned the circumstance, comparatively trivial, but pre- 
 cious in her estimation, since it was freighted with the as- 
 surance that at least he had thought of her on the eve of his 
 unexpected departure. What inexpressible comfort that note 
 might have contributed during all those tedious months of 
 silence and separation ! While she sat there thinking of the 
 dreary afternoon when, down in the orchard-grass she lay upon 
 her face. Dr. Grey came nearer to-her, and said, — 
 
 " I hope you have not abandoned your French ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; but I devote less time than formerly to it." 
 
 " If agreeable to you, we will resume the exercises as soon 
 as I can wield my pen." 
 
 " If you can teach me Italian, I should prefer it ; especially 
 since I have learned to pronounce French tolerably well ? " 
 
 " What use do you expect to have for Italian, — at least, at 
 present? French is much more essential." 
 
 " I have a good reason for desiring to make the change, 
 though just now I do not choose to be driven into any ex- 
 planations." 
 
 " Pardon me. I had no intention of forcing your confi- 
 dence. When in Italy, I always contrive to understand and 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 136 
 
 make myself understood; but my knowledge and use of the 
 language is rather too slip-shod to justify my attempting to 
 teach you idioms, hallowed as the medium through which 
 Dante and Ariosto charmed the world. Miss Dexter, Muriel's 
 governess, is a very thorough and accomplished linguist, and 
 speaks Italian not only gracefully but correctly. I have al- 
 ready engaged her to teach you whatever she may deem ad- 
 visable when she comes here to live." 
 
 " You are very kind. Is she a young person ? " 
 
 " She is a very highly cultivated and elegant woman, 
 probably twenty-five or six years old, and has been in Florence 
 with Muriel." 
 
 Involuntarily and unconsciously the orphan sighed, and the 
 muscles in her broad forehead tangled terribly. 
 
 " Salome, please put your hand in the right pocket of my 
 vest, and take out a key that ought to be there. No, — not 
 that; a larger steel one. Now you have it. Will you be so 
 good as to open that trunk which came by express yesterday 
 (it is in the upper hall), and bring me a box wrapped in pink 
 tissue-paper? I would not trouble you with so many com- 
 missions if I could use my hands." 
 
 Unable longer to repress her feelings, the girl exclaimed 
 eagerly,— 
 
 " If you could imagine what pleasure it affords me to render 
 you the slightest service, I am very sure you would not annoy 
 me with apologies for making me happy." 
 
 In a few moments she returned to the library, bearing in 
 her hand a small but heavy package, which she placed on the 
 table before him. 
 
 " Please open it, and examine the contents." 
 
 She obeyed him; and, after removing the wrapping, found 
 a blue velvet case that opened With a spring and revealed a 
 parcel enclosed in silver paper. Dr. Grey turned and walked 
 to the window; and, as Salome took off the last covering, a 
 watch and chain met her curious gaze. One side of the former 
 was richly and elaborately chased, and represented Kronos 
 leaning on his scythe; the other was studded with diamonds 
 that flashed out the name " Salome." Astonishment and 
 
136 UNTIL DE^TH US DO PART, 
 
 delight sealed the orphan's lips, and, in silence, far more 
 eloquent than words, she; bowed her head upon the table. 
 After a few moments had elapsed, Dr. Grey attempted to steal 
 out of the room ; but, being obliged to pass close hy her chair, 
 she put out her hand and arrested his movement. 
 
 " It is the most beautiful watch I have ever seen ; but, oh, 
 sir! how shall I suflSeiently thank you? How can I express 
 all that is throbbing here in my proud, grateful heart? Al- 
 though the costly gift is elegant and tasteful, I hold still 
 more precious the fact which it attests, — that during your 
 absence you thought of me. How shall I begin to prove my 
 gratitude for your kindness and generosity ? " 
 
 " Do not thank me, my little friend ; for, indeed I require 
 no verbal assurances that my souvenir is kindly received and 
 appreciated. Wear the watch; and let it continually reinind 
 you not only of the sincerity of my friendship, but of the far 
 more important fact that every idle or injudiciously employed 
 hour will cry out in accusation against us in the final assize, 
 when we are called upon to render an account of the distribu- 
 tion of that invaluable time which God allows us solely for 
 the accomplishment of His work on earth. It is so exceed- 
 ingly difficult for young persons to realize how marvellously 
 rapid is the flight of time, that you will, I trust, forgive me 
 if I endeavor to impress upon you the vital importance of 
 making each day fragrant with the burden of some good deed, 
 the resistance of some sore temptation, some service rendered 
 to God or to suffering humanity which shall make your years 
 mellow with the fruitage that will entitle you to a glorious 
 record in the golden book of Abou Ben Adhem's angel. Let 
 this little jewelled monitress of the fleeting, mocking nature 
 of time, this ingenious toy, whose ticking is but the mournful, 
 endless knell of dead seconds, remind you that, — 
 
 " This life of ours, what is It ? A very few 
 Soon ended years, and then — the ceaseless psalm, 
 And the-etemal Sabbath of the soul." 
 
 As Salome looked up into his tranquil, happy face, two 
 tears glided across her cheeks, and fell upon the pretty 
 bauble. 
 
VNTIL DEATH US BO PART. 137 
 
 " You will find a key in the case, and can wind it up, and 
 Bet it by the clock in the parlor." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, are you willing that my watch shall bear daily 
 testimony of something which I hold far above its diamonds, — 
 that you have faith in Salome Owen? " 
 
 " Perfectly willing that you should make it eloquent with 
 all friendly utterances and sympathy. Hester has bound my 
 arm so tightly that it impedes the circulation, and is very 
 painful. Please loosen the bandage." 
 
 She complied as carefully as possible, though her hands 
 trembled; and, when the ligature had been comfortably ad- 
 justed and the arm restored to its sling, she stooped and 
 pressed her lips softly and reverently to the cold, white 
 fingers, that protruded from the linen bands. He endeavored 
 ineffectually to prevent the caress, which evidently embarrassed 
 him ; but she left two kisses on the bruised hand, and, snatch- 
 ing her watch and chain from the table, hastily quitted the 
 room. 
 
 In after years, when loneliness and disappointment pressed 
 heavily upon her heart, she looked back to the three weeks 
 that succeeded Dr. Grey's return as the halcyon days, as the 
 cloudless June morning of her life; and, in blissful retro- 
 spection, temporarily found Elysium. 
 
 She wrote his letters, read aloud from his favorite books, 
 dressed and bandaged his blistered hand and fractured arm, 
 and surrendered her heart to an intense and perfect happi- 
 ness such as she had scarcely dared to hope would ever be her 
 portion. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 "Bring her into my oflBce. Steady, men! There may 
 be broken bones, and jarring would be torture. Don't 
 stumble over that book on the floor. Lay her here on the 
 sofa, and throw open the blinds." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, is die dead ? " 
 
 "No, only badly stunned; and the contusion on the head 
 
138 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 seems to be very severe. Stand back, all of you, and give her 
 air. When did it happen ? " 
 
 "About twenty minutes ago. She is a stout, heavy wo- 
 man, and we could not walk very fast with such a burden. 
 Ah ! you intend to bleed her ? " 
 
 " Yes, I fear nothing else will relieve her. Mitchell, hold 
 the arm for me." 
 
 "How did she receive this injury?" asked Dr. Mitchell, 
 who had been holding a consultation with Dr. Grey relative 
 to some perplexing case. 
 
 " Those gray ponies which we were admiring a half-hour 
 since, as they trotted by the door, took fright at a menagerie 
 processioli coming up from the depot to the Hippodrome, — 
 and ran away. In steering clear oi the elephant, who was 
 covered from head to foot, and certainly looked frightful, the 
 horses ran into a mass of lumber and brick at the corner of 
 Tountain and Franklin streets, where a new store i« being 
 erected, and the carriage was upset. Unfortunately the har- 
 ness was very strong, and did not give away until the carriage 
 had been dragged some yards among the rubbish, and one 
 of the horses finally floundered into a bed of mortar, and broke 
 the traces. The driver kept his hold upon the reins to the 
 last, but was badly bruised, and this woman was thrown out 
 on a pile of bricks and granite-caps. The municipal au- 
 thorities should prohibit these menagerie parades, for the 
 meekest plough-horse in the State could scarcely have faced 
 that band of musicians, flanked by the covered elephant and 
 giraffe, and the cages of the beasts, — much less those fiery 
 grays, who seem snufiBng danger even when there is no prov- 
 ocation." 
 
 " Who is this woman ? " 
 
 " She is a total stranger to me," answered Dr. Grey, bending 
 down to put his ear to the heart of the victim. 
 
 A bystander seemed better informed, and replied, — 
 
 " She is a servant or housekeeper of the lady who lives at 
 ' Solitude.' But here comes the driver, limping and making 
 wry faces." 
 
 Robert Maclean approached the sofa, and his scratched and 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 139 
 
 bleeding face paled as he leaned over the prostrate form of hia 
 mother. 
 
 " Oh, doctors, surely two of you can save her ! For God's 
 sake, don't let her die ! Does she breathe ? " 
 
 "Yes, the bleeding has already benefitted her. She 
 breathes regularly, and the action of her heart is better. Sit 
 down, my man, — ^you look ghastly. Mitchell, give him some 
 brandy, and sew up that gash in his cheek, while I write a 
 prescription." 
 
 " Never mind me, doctor ; only save my poor mother. She 
 looks like death itself. Mother, mother, it is all over now! 
 Come, wake up, and speak to me ! " 
 
 He seized one of her cold hands, and chafed it vigorously 
 between both of his, while tears and blood mingled, as they 
 dripped from his face to hers. 
 
 " Doctor, tell me the truth ; is there any hope ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my friend ; there is every reason to believe she 
 will ultimately recover, though you need not be surprised if 
 she remains for some hours in a heavy stupor. Eemember, a 
 pUe of brick is not exactly a feather pillow, and it may be 
 some time before the brain recovers from the severity of the 
 contusion. What is your name ? " 
 
 "Eobert Maclean." 
 
 "And hers?" 
 
 "Elsie Maclean. Poor, dear creature! How she labors 
 in her breathing. Suppose I lift her head? " 
 
 "No; let her rest quietly, just as she is, and I trust all 
 will be well. Come to the table, and allow me to put some 
 plaster over that cut which bleeds so freely. Trust me, 
 Maclean, and do not look so woe-begone. I am not deceiving 
 you. There may be serious internal injuries that I have not 
 discovered, but this stupor is not alarming. I can find no 
 fractured bones, and hope the blow on the head is the most 
 troublesome thing we shall have to contend with." 
 
 Dr. Grey proceeded to sponge the bruised and stained face 
 and, hoping to divert the man's anxious thoughts, said, non- 
 chalantly, — 
 
 " I believe you are in Mrs, Gerome's employment ? " 
 
140 UNTIL DEATH' US DO PART. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " How long have you been at ' Solitude ' ? " 
 
 " I came here, sir, and bought the place, while she was in 
 Europe. Ah, doctor, if my mother should die, I believe it 
 would kill my mistress." 
 
 " You are old family servants ? " 
 
 " My mother took her when she was twelve hours old, and 
 has never left her since. She loves Mrs. Gerome even better 
 than she loves me — ^her own flesh and blood. I can't go home 
 and tell my mistress I have nearly killed my mother. She 
 would never endure the sight of me again. Her own mother 
 died the day after she was born, and she has always looked 
 on that poor dear soul yonder as her foster-mother. 
 
 Eobert limped back to the sofa, and, seating himself on a 
 chair, looked wistfully into his mother's countenance; then 
 hid his face in his hands. 
 
 " Come, be a man, Maclean ; and don't give way to nervous- 
 ness! Your mother's condition is constantly improving, 
 though of course it is not so apparent to you as to me. What 
 has been done with the carriage and horses ? " 
 
 " Oh, the carriage is a sweet pudding ; and the grays — 
 curses on 'em! — are badly bruised. One of them had his 
 flank laid open by a saw lying on a lumber-pile; and I only 
 wish it had sawed across the jugular. They are vicious brutes 
 as ever were bitted, and it makes my blood run cold sometimes 
 to see their devilish antics when Mrs. Gerome insists on driv- 
 ing them. They will break her neck, if I don't contrive to 
 break theirs first." 
 
 "I should judge from their appearance that it was ex- 
 ceedingly unsafe for any lady to attempt to control them. 
 They seem very fiery and unmanageable. What has been 
 done with them ? " 
 
 " The deuce knows ! — knocked in the head, I trust. I 
 asked two men, who were in the crowd, to take them to the 
 livery-stable. Mrs. Gerome is not afraid of anything, and 
 one of her few pleasures is driving those gray imps, who know 
 her voice as well as I do. I have seen them put up their 
 narrow ears and neigh when she was ^ hundred yards off; 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 141 
 
 and sometimes she wraps the reins around her wrists and 
 quiets them, when their eyes look like balls of fire. But 
 Earey himself could not have stopped them a while ago, when 
 they determined to run over that menagerie show. My mis- 
 tress will say it was my fault, and she will stand by the gray 
 Batans through thick and thin. Hist, doctor, my mother 
 groans ! " 
 
 "Would it not be best for you to go home and acquaint 
 Mrs. Gerome with what has occurred ? " 
 
 "I would not face her without my mother for — ^twenty 
 kingdoms ! You have no idea how she loves her * old Elsie,' 
 and I couldn't break the news to her, — I would sooner break 
 my head." 
 
 " This is not a proper place for your mother, and I advise 
 you to remove her to the hospital, which is not very far from 
 my office. She can be carried on a litter." 
 
 " Oh, my mistress would never permit that ! She will let 
 no one else nurse my mother; and, of course, she could not 
 go to a public place like a hospital, for you know she is so 
 dreadful shy of strangers." 
 
 After many suggestions, and much desultory conversation, 
 it was finally decided that Elsie should be placed on a mat- 
 tress, in the bottom of an open wagon, and carried slowly 
 home. A careful driver was provided, and when Dr. Grey 
 had seen his patient comfortably arranged, and established 
 Eobert on the seat with the driver, he yielded to the solicita- 
 tions of the son, that he would precede them to " Solitude," 
 and acquaint Mrs. Gerome with the details of the accident. 
 
 Although ten months had elapsed since the latter took 
 possession of her new home, so complete had been her seclu- 
 sion that she remained an utter stranger; and, when visitors 
 flocked from town and neighborhood to satisfy themselves 
 concerning the rumors of the elegant furniture and appoint- 
 ments of the house, they were invariably denied admittance, 
 and informed that since her widowhood Mrs. Gerome had not 
 re-entered society. 
 
 Curiosity was piqued, and gossip wagged her hundred busy 
 tongues over the tormenting fact that Mrs. Gerome had never 
 
142 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 darkened the church-door since her arrival ; and, occasionally, 
 when she rode into town, wore a thick veil that thoroughly 
 screened her features; and, instead of shopping like other 
 people, made Elsie Maclean bring the articles to the carriage 
 for her inspection. 
 
 The servants seemed to hold themselves as much aloof as 
 their mistress, and though Eobert and his mother attended 
 service regularly every Sabbath, they appeared as gravely si- 
 lent and ungregarious as Sphinxes. The ministers of various 
 denominations called to pay their respects to the stranger, but 
 only the clerical cards succeeded in crossing the threshold; 
 and, while rumors of her boundless wealth crept teasingly 
 through Newsmongerdom, no one except Salome Owen had 
 yet seen the new-comer. 
 
 Cases of books and pictures occasionally arrived from 
 Europe, and never failed to stir the pool of gossip to its dregs ; 
 for the wife of the express-agent was an intimate friend of 
 Mrs. Spiewell, whose husband was pastor of the church which 
 Elsie and Eobert attended, and who felt personally aggrieved 
 that the Eev. Charles Spiewell was not welcomed as the spirit- 
 ual guide of the mistress of " Solitude." 
 
 Finally, a morbid, meddling inquisitiveness goaded the 
 chatty little woman beyond the bounds of ministerial decorum, 
 and, having rashly wagered a pair of gloves that she would 
 gain an entrance to the parlors (whereof the upholsterer's 
 wife told marvellous tales), she armed herself with a pathetic 
 petition for aid to huild a " Widow's Eow," and, with a sub- 
 scription-list for a " Dorcas Society," and confident of ingress, 
 boldly rang the bell. Unfortunately, Elsie chanced that day 
 to be on post as sentinel, and, though she immediately recog- 
 nized the visitor as the mother of the small colony of Spiewells 
 who crowded every Sunday morning into the pew of the 
 pastor, she courtesied, and gave the stereotyped rebuff, — 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome begs to be excused." 
 
 "Ah, indeed! But' she does not know who has called, or 
 she would make an exception in my favor. I am your min- 
 ister's wife, and must really see her, if only for two minutes. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 143 
 
 Take my card to her, and say I call on important business, 
 which cannot fail to interest her." 
 
 Not a muscle of Elsie's grave face moved, as she received 
 the card, and answered, — 
 
 " I am very sorry, madam, but Mrs. Gerome sees no visitors, 
 and my ^rders are positive." 
 
 Mrs. Spiewell bit her lip, and reddened. 
 
 " Then take these papers to her, and ask if she will please 
 be so good as to examine their claims to her charity. In the 
 meantime I will wait in the parlor, and must trouble you for 
 a glass of water." 
 
 She thrust the petitions into Elsie's hand, and attempted 
 to slip into the hall, through the partial opening of the door 
 which the servant held during the parley; but, planting her 
 massive frame directly in the way, the resolute woman ef- 
 fectually barred entrance, and, pointing to an iron tete-a-tete 
 on the portico, said, decisively, — 
 
 " I beg pardon, madam, but you wUl find a seat there ; and 
 I will bring the water while Mrs. Gerome reads your letters. 
 If you are fatigued, I will hand you luncheon and some wine." 
 
 Mortified and enraged, Mrs. Spiewell grew scarlet, but 
 threw herself into the seat designated, resolved to snatch a 
 glimpse of the interior the instant the servant had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Very softly Elsie closed and securely latched the door on 
 the inside, knowing that at that moment her mistress was 
 sitting in the oriel window of the front parlor. 
 
 In vain the visitor tried and twisted the bolt, and, com- 
 pletely baffled, tears of chagrin moistened her eyes. She had 
 scarcely time to regain her seat, when Elsie reappeared, bear- 
 ing on a handsome salver a wine-glass, silver goblet, and an 
 elegant basket filled with cake. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome presents her compliments, and sends you 
 this fifty dollar bill for whatever society you represent." 
 
 Too thoroughly discomfited to conceal her pique and in- 
 dignation, Mrs. Spiewell snatched letters and donation, and, 
 without lingering an instant, swept haughtily down the steps. 
 
144 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " shaking off the dust of her feet " against " Solitude " and 
 its incorrigible owner. 
 
 An innocent impertinence once coldly frustrated soon takes 
 unto itself a sting and branding-irons, and thus, what was 
 originally merely idle curiosity, becomes bitter malice; and 
 henceforth the worthy minister's gossiping wife lost no oppor- 
 tunity of inveighing against the superciliousness of the 
 stranger, and of insinuating that some very extraordinary cir- 
 cumstances led her "to fear that something was radically 
 wrong about that poor Mrs. Gerome, for troubles that could 
 not be poured into the sympathetic ears of pastors and of 
 pastors' wives must be very dark, indeed." 
 
 Whenever the name of the new-comer was mentioned, Mrs. 
 Spiewell compressed her lips, shook her head, and shrugged 
 her round shoulders ; and, of course, persons present surmised 
 that the "minister's lady" was acquainted with melancholy 
 facts which charity prevented her from divulging. 
 
 Many of the grievances and ills that afflict society spring 
 not from sinful, envenomed hearts, but from weak souls and 
 empty heads; and Mrs. Spiewell, who sat up with all the 
 measle-stricken, teething, sick children in her husband's 
 charge, and would have felt disgraced had she missed a meet- 
 ing of the " Dorcas Society," or of the " Barefeet Relief 
 Club," would have been duly shocked if any one had boldly 
 charged her with slandering a woman whom she had never 
 seen, and of whose antecedents she knew absolutely nothing. 
 Verily, it is difficult, indeed, even for " the elect " to keep 
 themselves " unspotted, from the world ; " and Zimmerman 
 was a seer when he declared, " Who lives with wolves must 
 join in their howls." 
 
 Absorbed by professional engagements, or fiscal cares, the 
 gentlemen of a community are rarely interested in or in- 
 formed of the last wreck of character which the whirlpool of 
 scandal strews on the strand of society; but vague rumors 
 relative to Mrs. Gerome's isolation had penetrated even into 
 the quiet precincts of Dr. Grey's sanctum, and consequently 
 invested his present mission with extraneous interest. 
 
 For the first time since her arrival he approached the con- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 145 
 
 fines of her residence, and, as he threw the reins over the 
 dashboard of his buggy and stood under the lofty old trees that 
 surrounded the house, he paused to admire the beauty of the 
 grounds, the grouping of some statues and pot plants on a 
 neighboring mound, and the far-stretching sheen of the rip- 
 pling sea. 
 
 No living thing was visible except a golden pheasant and 
 scarlet flamingo strutting along the stone terrace at ihe foot 
 of the lawn, and silence and repose seemed brooding over 
 house and yard; when suddenly a rapid, passionate, piano- 
 prelude smote the stillness till the air appeared to throb and 
 quiver, and a thrillingly sweet yet intensely mournful voice 
 sang the wailing strains of Addio del Passato. 
 
 The indescribable yet almost overwhelming pathos of the 
 -tones affected Dr. Grey much as the tremolo-stop in some 
 organ-overture in a dimly-lighted cathedral; and, as the 
 singer seemed to pour her whole aching heart and wearied 
 soul into the concluding "Ah! tutto-tutto fini!" he turned, 
 and involuntarily followed the sound, like one in a dream. 
 
 The front door was closed; but the sash of the oriel win- 
 dow had been raised, and through the delicate lace curtains 
 that were swaying in the salt breath of ocean he could see 
 what passed in the parlor. A woman sat -before the piano, 
 running her snowy fingers idly across the keys, now striking 
 fortissimo a wild stormy fugue theme, and then softly evoking 
 a subtle minor chord that seemed the utterance of some de- 
 spairing spirit breathing its last prayer for peace. 
 
 Her Marie-Louise blue dress was girded at the waist by a 
 belt and buckle of silver, and the loose sleeve of the right 
 arm was looped and pinned up, showing the dimpled elbow 
 and daintily rounded wrist encircled by the jet serpent. 
 Around her throat she had carelessly thrown a lace handker- 
 chief, and from the mass of hair that seemed tiny, snow- 
 capped waves, a cluster of blue nemophila leaned down to 
 touch the white forehead beneath, and peep at the answer- 
 ing blue gleams in the large, shining, steely eyes. Her fin- 
 gers strayed listlessly into a Nocturne; but from the dreainy 
 expression of the face, upraised to gaze at the busts on the 
 10 
 
146 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 brackets above, it was evident that her thoughts had wandered 
 far away from Addio del Passato, and were treading the drift- 
 strewn strands of melancholy memory. 
 
 Presently she rose, walked twice across the room, and came 
 back to an etagere where stood an azure Bohemian glass vase, 
 supported by silver Tritons, and filled with late blue hyacinths 
 and early pancratiums. 
 
 Bending her regal head, she inhaled the mingled perfumes, 
 worthy of Sicilian or Cyprian meadows ; and, while her slight 
 fingers toyed with the fragile petals, a proud smile lent its 
 sad light to the chill face, and she said aloud, as if striving to 
 comfort herself, — 
 
 " ' Not the ineffable stars that interlace 
 The azure canopy of Zeus himself 
 Have surer sweetness than my hyacinths 
 When they grow blue, in gazing on blue heaven. 
 Than the white lilies of my rivers, when 
 In leafy spring Selene's silver horn 
 Spills paleness, peace, and fragrance.' " 
 
 With a heavy sigh she turned away, and sat down in the 
 rear room, near the arch, where an easel now stood, contain- 
 ing a large, unfinished picture ; and, taking her ivory palette 
 and brushes, she began to retouch the violet robe of one of 
 the figures. 
 
 Dr. Grey had seen more beautiful women among the gilded 
 pillars and frescoes of palaces, and amid the olives and vine- 
 yards of Parthenope; but in Mrs. Gerome he found a fasci- 
 nating mystery that baffled analysis and riveted his attention. 
 Neither young nor old, she had crowned, herself with the 
 glories of both seasons, and seemed some sweet, dewy spring, 
 wrapped in the snows and frozen in the icy garb of winter. 
 
 He had expected to meet a middle-aged person, habited in 
 widow's weeds, and meek from the severe scourging of a 
 recent and terrible bereavement; but that anomalous white 
 face and proud, queenly form were unlike all other flesh that 
 his keen eyes had hitherto scanned; and he regarded her as 
 curiously as he would have examined some abnormal-looking 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 147 
 
 specimen of nerves and muscles laid upon the marble slab of a 
 dissecting-table. 
 
 EeeoUecting suddenly that, if he did not present himself, 
 the wagon would arrive before he had accomplished the object 
 of his visit, he drew a card from his pocket, and, stepping 
 over the low sill of the oriel window, advanced to the arch. 
 
 The mistress of the house sat with her back turned towards 
 him, and was apparently absorbed in putting purple shadows 
 into the folds of a mantle that hung from the shoulders of a 
 kneeling figure on the canvas. 
 
 Face-downward on an ottoman near, lay a beautiful copy of 
 Owen Meredith's poems ; and, after a few seconds, she paused, 
 brush in hand, and, taking up the book, slowly read aloud — 
 glancing, as she did so, from page to picture, — 
 
 ' " ' Then I could perceive 
 
 A glory pouring through an open door, 
 And in the light five women. I believe 
 They wore white vestments, all of them. They were 
 Quite calm ; and each still face unearthly fair, 
 Unearthly quiet. So like statues all, 
 Waiting they stood without that lighted hall ; 
 And in their hands, like a blue star, they held 
 Each one a silver lamp.' " 
 
 Standing immediately behind her, Dr. Grey saw that she 
 had seized the weird " Vision of Virgins," and was putting 
 into pigment that solemn phantasm of the poet's imagination 
 where five radiant women were passing to their reward, — and 
 five wailing over flickering, dying lamps, were huddled help- 
 lessly and hopelessly under a black and starless midnight sky. 
 Although unfinished, there was marvellous power in the pic- 
 ture, and the sickly gleam from the expiring wicks made the 
 surrounding gloom more supernatural, like the deep shadows 
 skulking behind the lurid glare in some old Flemish painting. 
 
 He saw also that she had followed the general outline of 
 the poem; but one of the faces was so supreme in its mute 
 anguish that he thought of Eeni's "Cenci," and of a wan 
 " Alcestis," and a desperate " Cassandra," he had seen at 
 
148 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Rome; and, in comparison, the description of the poet 
 seemed almost vapid, — 
 
 " One aa still as death 
 
 Hollowed her hands about her lamp, for fear 
 Some motion of the midnight, or her breath, 
 Should fan out the last flicker. Rosy clear 
 The light oozed through her fingers o'er her face 
 There was a ruined beauty hovering there 
 Over deep pain, and dashed with lurid grace 
 A waning bloom." 
 
 The room with its costly, quaint, and tasteful furniture,—^ 
 the solitary and singularly beautiful woman; the wonderful 
 picture, growing beneath her hand ; the solemn silence, broken 
 only by the deep, h0llow murmur of the dimpling sea that sent 
 its shimmer in at the window to meet the painted shimmer in 
 a marine view framed on the wall, — all these wove a spell 
 about the intruder that temporarily held him a mute captive. 
 
 The artist laid a delicate green on the stripped and scat- 
 tered leaves from a wreath of Syrian lilies lying on the marble 
 steps of the bridegroom's mansion, and once more she read a 
 passage from the open book, — 
 
 " ' Then I beheld 
 
 A shadow in the doorway. And One came 
 Crown'd for a feast. I could not see the Face. 
 The Form was not all human. As the Flame 
 Streamed over it, a presence took the place 
 With awe. He, turning, took them by the hand 
 And led them each up the wide stairway, and 
 The door closed.' " 
 
 The sound of her voice, low but clear, and burdened with 
 a sadness that no language could exhaust or interpret, thrilled 
 Dr. Grey's steady nerves as no music had ever done, and, 
 stepping forward, he held out his card, and said, — 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, a painful necessity has compelled me to 
 intrude upon your seclusion, and I trust you will acquit me 
 of impertinence." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 149 
 
 Rising, she fronted him with a frown severe as that which 
 clouded Artemis' brow when profane eyes peered through 
 myrtle boughs into her sacred retreat, and the changed voice 
 seemed thick with bristling icicles. 
 
 " Your business must be imperative, indeed, ifit warrants 
 this intrusion. What servant admitted you ? " 
 
 " None. I came in haste, and, seeing the window open, 
 entered without ringing. Madam, my card will explain my 
 errand." 
 
 " Has Dr. Grey an unpaid bill ? I was not aware the serv- 
 ants had needed your services; but if so, present your claim 
 to Robert Maclean, my agent." 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome owes me nothing, and I came here reluc- 
 tantly and in compliance with Robert Maclean's request, to 
 inform her of an accident which happened this afternoon 
 while—" 
 
 He paused, awed by the change that swept over her couute- 
 nance, filling it with horrible dread. 
 
 " Those gray horses ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam." 
 
 " Not Elsie ? Oh ! don't tell me that my dear old Elsie was 
 mangled ! Hush ! I will not hear it ! " 
 
 Palette and brushes fell upon the carpet, and she wrung 
 her fingers until the diamond-eyed asp set its blue fangs in 
 her cold flesh. 
 
 " Robert was merely bruised, but his mother was very badly 
 injured, and is still insensible. Every precaution has been 
 taken to counteract the effect of the severe blow on her head, 
 and I hope that after an hour or two she will recover her 
 consciousness. Robert is bringing her home as carefully as 
 possible, and you may expect them momentarily. Only his 
 urgent entreaties that I would precede him and prepare you 
 for the reception of his mother could have induced me to 
 waive ceremony and thrust myself into the presence of a lady 
 who seems little disposed to pardon the apparent presumption 
 of my visit." 
 
 She evidently did not heed his words, and, suddenly clasp- 
 ing her hands across her forehead, she said, bitterly, — 
 
150 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Coward ! why can't you speak out, and tell me that the 
 corpse will soon be here, and a coffin must be ordered ? This 
 is the last blow! Surely, God will let me alone, now; for 
 there is nothing more that He can send to afflict me. Oh, 
 Elsie, — my sole comfort ! The only one who ever loved me ! " 
 
 A bluish pallor settled about her mouth, and Dr. Grey 
 shuddered as he looked into the dry, defiant eyes, so beautiful 
 in form and color but so mournfully desperate in their ex- 
 pression. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, your servant is neither dead nor dying, and 
 I have told you the worst. Down the road I can see the 
 wagon coming slowly, and I would advise you to call the 
 household together, in order to assist in lifting Elsie, who is 
 very stout and heavy. Calm yourself, madam, and trust your 
 favorite servant to my care." 
 
 " Servant ! Sir, she is mother, father, husband, friends, — 
 all, — everything to me! She is the only human being who 
 cares for, or understands, or sympathizes with me, — and I 
 could not live without her. Oh, sir, do not ask me to trust 
 you! The time has gone by when I could trust anybody 
 but Elsie. You are a physician, — ^you ought to know what 
 should be done for her; and, Dr. Grey, if you have any pity 
 in your soul, and any skill in your profession, save my old 
 Elsie's life! Dr. Grey— " 
 
 She paused a few seconds, and added, in a whisper, — 
 
 " If she dies, I am afraid I might grow desperate, and com- 
 mit what you happy people call a crime." 
 
 He felt an unwonted moisture dim his eyes, as he watched 
 the delicate face, white as the hair that crowned it, and won- 
 dered if the wide, populous world could match her regal form 
 and perfect features. 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, I think I can promise that Elsie. will re- 
 cover from her injuries; but a prayer for her safety would 
 bring you more comfort than my feeble words of assurance 
 and encouragement. The mercy of God is surer than the com- 
 bined medical skill of the universe." 
 
 " The mercy of God ! " she repeated, with a gesture of 
 Bcorn and impatience. " No, no ! God set his face like a 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 151 
 
 flint against me, long, long ago, and I do not mock myself by 
 offering prayers that only call down smitings upon me. 
 Seven years since I prayed my last prayer, whicli was for 
 speedy death; and, from that hour, I seem to have taken a 
 new lease on life. Now I stand still and keep silent, and I 
 hoped that God had forgotten me." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands and Dr. Grey draw a 
 chair close to her and endeavored to make her sit down, but 
 she resisted and shrank from his touch on her arm. 
 
 "Madam, the wagon has stopped at the door. Will you 
 direct your servants, or shall I ? " 
 
 " If she is not dead, tell Eobert to carry her into my room. 
 Oh, Dr. Grey, you will not let her die ! " 
 . As she looked up imploringly into his cahn, noble face, she 
 met his earnest gaze, brimming with compassion and sym- 
 pathy, and her lips and chin quivered. 
 
 " Trust your God, and have faith in me." 
 
 He went out to assist in removing his patient, and when 
 they had carried the mattress and its occupant into the room 
 opposite the parlor and laid it on the carpet near the window, 
 he had the satisfaction of observing a favorable change in 
 Elsie's condition. While he stood by a table preparing some 
 medicine, Eobert stole up, and asked : 
 
 " Do you notice any improvement ? She groaned twice on 
 the road, and once I am sure she opened ber eyes." 
 
 " Yes ; I think that very soon she will be able to speak, for 
 her pulse is gaining strength every hour." 
 
 " How did my mistress take it ? " 
 , " She was much shocked and grieved. Maclean, where ara 
 her friends and relatives ? " 
 
 There was no reply, and, glancing over his shoulder to re- 
 peat the inquiry. Dr. Grey saw Mrs. Gerome leaning against 
 the door. 
 
 " Eobert, have you killed her ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, ma'am ! She is doing very well, the doctor says." 
 
 She crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of the 
 mattress, taking one of the large brown hands in both of hers 
 and bending her face over the pillow. 
 
152 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 " Elsie ! mother ! Elsie, speak to your poor child ! " 
 
 That wailing voice pierced the stupor, and Dr. Grey was 
 surprised to see the woman's eyes unclose and rest wonder- 
 ingly upon the countenance hovering over her. 
 
 " My dear Elsie, don't you know me ? " 
 
 " Yes, my bairn. What ails you ? " 
 
 She spoke indistinctly, and shut her eyes once more, as if 
 exhausted. 
 
 " If she was in her coffin, I verily believe she would rise, 
 if shevheard your voice calling her," said Kobert, wiping away 
 the tears of joy that trickled across his sunburnt cheeks. 
 
 Dr. Grey stooped to put his finger on Elsie's pulse, and 
 Mrs. Gerome threw herself down on the carpet, and buried her 
 face in the pillow, where her silver hair mingled with the 
 grizzled locks that straggled from beneath the old woman's 
 torn lace cap. 
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 " Well, Ulpian, are you convinced that ' Solitude ' is an 
 unlucky place, and that misfortune dogs the steps of all who 
 m.ake it a home? Once you laughed at my 'superstition.' 
 What think you now, my wiseacre ? " 
 
 " My opinion has not changed, except that each time I see 
 the place I admire it more and more; and, were it for sale, 
 I should certainly purchase it." 
 
 " Not with the expeetatioi^ of living there ? " 
 
 " Most assuredly." 
 
 Miss Jane had suspended for a moment the swift clicking 
 of her knitting-needles in order to hear her hrother's reply, 
 and now she rejoined, almost sharply, — 
 
 " You will do no such silly thing while there is breath left 
 in my body to protest, or to persuade. Pooh! you only talk 
 to tease me ; for five grains of observation and common sense 
 will teach you that there is a curse hanging over that old 
 piratical nest." 
 
 " Dear Janet, when headstrong drivers persist in carrying a 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 153 
 
 pair of fiery, vicious horses into the midst of a procession of 
 wild beasts that would have scared even your sober dull 
 Dapples out of their lazy jog-trot, it is not at all surprising 
 that snapped harness, broken carriage, torn flesh, and strained 
 joints should attest the folly of the experiment. The ac- 
 cident occurred not far from my office, which is haunted by 
 nothing worse than your harmless sailor-boy." 
 
 " All very fine, my blue-eyed oracle, but I notice that the 
 horses belonging to ' Solitude ' were the only ones that made 
 mischief and came to grief; and I promise you that all the 
 hawsers in Gosport Navy- Yard will never drag me inside the 
 doomed place. How is your patient? If you expect her to 
 get well, you had better take a 'superstitious' old wo- 
 man's counsel, and send her away from that valley of Jehosha- 
 phat." 
 
 " I am very sorry to tell you that she was more seriously 
 hurt than I was at first inclined to believe. Her spine was so 
 badly injured that although there is no danger of immediate 
 death, she will never be able to sit up or walk again. She 
 may linger many months, possibly years; but must, as long 
 as life lasts, remain a bed-ridden cripple. It is one of the 
 saddest cases I have had to deal with during my professional 
 career ; and Elsie Maclean bears her sufferings with such noble 
 fortitude, such genuine Christian patience, coupled with stern 
 Scotch heroism, that I cannot withhold my admiration and 
 earnest sympathy. Yesterday I held a consultation with four 
 physicians, and, when we told her the hopelessness of her 
 condition, she received the announcement without even a sigh, 
 and seemed only to dread that instead of an assistant she 
 might prove a burden to her mistress." 
 
 " She appears to be a very important personage in the 
 household." 
 
 " Yes ; she is Mrs. Gerome's nurse, housekeeper, and coun- 
 sellor; — and I have rarely seen such warm affection as exists 
 between them. I wish, Janet, that you were strong enough 
 to call at ' Solitude,' for its mistress leads a lonely, secluded 
 life, and must require some society." 
 
154 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "But, Ulpian, I hear strange things about her, and it le 
 hinted that she is deranged." 
 
 " Your knowledge of human nature should teach you how 
 little truth is generally found in the floating on dits of social 
 circles." 
 
 " How long has she been widowed ? " 
 
 "I do not know, but presume that her affliction has not 
 been very recent, as she wears no mourning." 
 
 " If she has discarded widow's weeds, and dresses in colors, 
 why should she taboo society, and make herself the town-talk 
 by refusing to receive even the clergy and their wives? She 
 has lived here ten months, and I understand from Dolly 
 Spiewell that not a soul has ever seen her. Of course such 
 eccentricities provoke gossip and tickle the tongue of scandal, 
 and if the world can't find out the real cause of such conduct, 
 it very industriously sets to work and manufactures one." 
 
 " Which, in my humble opinion, constitutes a piece of un- 
 warrantable impertinence on the part of meddling Mrs. 
 Grundy. , The world might be more profitably engaged in 
 mending its own tortuous and mendacious ways, and allowing 
 poor solitary wretches to fondle their whims and caprices. 
 If Mrs. Gerome does not choose to receive visitors, what right 
 has the public to grumble, or even discuss the matter ? " 
 
 As Salome spoke, she plunged her stiletto vigorously into a 
 piece of cambric, and her thin lip curled contemptuously. 
 
 " Abstractly true, my dear child ; but, from the beginning 
 of time, people have meddled; and, since gossip she must, 
 even Eve chatted too freely with serpents. Besides, since we 
 are in the world, we should not turn eremites, and bristle 
 at the sight of one of our own race; for society has a few 
 laws that are inexorable, — that cannot be violated without 
 subjecting the offender to being stung to death by venomous 
 tongues; and one of these statutes is, that. all shall see and 
 be seen, shall talk and be talked about, and shall visit and 
 be visited. When a woman unaccountably turns recluse, she 
 is at the mercy of public imagination, stimulated by dis- 
 appointed curiosity ; and very soon the verdict goes forth that 
 she is either deformed or deranged." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 155 
 
 " I dispute the prerogative of the public to dictate in such 
 matters, and I shall rebel whenever it presumes to lay even a 
 little finger across my path. What, pray tell me, is the world, 
 but an aggregation of persons like you and me, and what 
 possible concern can you or I have with the fact that Mrs. 
 Gerome burrows like a mole, beyond our sight? If shf; sees 
 fit to found a modern sect of Troglodytes, I can't understand 
 that the wheels of society are thereby scotched, or that the 
 public has a shadow of right to raise a hue-and-cry and strive 
 to unearth her, as if she were a fox, a catamount, or a gopher. 
 It is useless for society to constitute itself a turning-lathe for 
 rounding off all individual angularities, and grinding people 
 down to dull uniformity until they are as indistinguishable 
 as a bag of unpainted marbles or of black-eyed peas; and, 
 if God had intended that we should all invariably think, feel, 
 and act after one pattern. He would have populated the world 
 with Siamese twins; whereas, the first couple that were born 
 on earth were so dissimilar that all the universe was not wide 
 enough to hold them both, and manslaughter began when the 
 race only numbered a quartette. If mankind had not ar- 
 rogated the privilege of being its ' brother's keeper,' it would 
 never have been forced to deny the fact. I admire the honesty 
 and truth with which Alexander Smith bravely confessed, ' I 
 love a little eccentricity; I respect honest prejudices. It is 
 high time, it seems to me, that a moral game-law were passed 
 for the preservation of the wild and vagrant feelings of hu- 
 man nature.' " 
 
 "That is a dangerous doctrine, my dear child, especially 
 for a woman to entertain; because custom rules us with an 
 iron rod, and flays us alive if we contravene her decrees." 
 
 " I should be exceedingly glad to learn by what authority 
 or process Truth is provided with sex? Are some orthodox 
 doctrines female and others male ? Why have not we women 
 as clear a right to any given set of principles as men ? Truth 
 is as much my property as that of the Czar of Bnssia, and, 
 if I choose to lay hold of any special province of it, why must 
 I perforce be dragged to the whipping-post of custom, simply 
 because by an accident I am called Susan or Hepzibah iu' 
 
156 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 stead of Peter or Lazarus? So long as my convictions of 
 truth (which custom brands as vagaries) are innocuous, I 
 have a perfect and inalienable right to indulge them ; but the 
 instant I become pestiferous to society, let me be consigned 
 to the tender mercies of strait-jacket and insane-asylum 
 regimen. If I creep quietly along my own intellectual and 
 ethical trail, taking heed not to touch the sensitive toes of 
 custom, why should it ungenerously insist upon bruising 
 mine? My seer was right when he boldly declared, 'The 
 world has stood long enough under the drill of Adjutant 
 Fashion. It is hard work, the posture is wearisome, and 
 Fashion is an awful martinet, and has a quick eye, and comes 
 down mercilessly on the unfortunate wight who can not 
 square his toes to the approved pattern. It is killing work. 
 Suppose we try ' standing at ease ' for a little while ? Where- 
 fore, custom to the contrary notwithstanding, I contend that 
 Mrs. Gerome has as indisputable a right to refuse admittance 
 to Eev. Mrs. Spiewell as any anchorite of the Nitriau Sands 
 to decline receiving a bevy of inquisitive European belles. 
 If society rules like Eussia or Turkey, then am I a candi- 
 date for knout and bastinado. I do not wish to be un- 
 womanly, and honesty and candor are not necessarily un- 
 feminine, because some coarse, rough-handed, bold-eyed wo- 
 man has possibly rendered them unpopular." 
 
 Miss Jane laid down her knitting, folded her hands, and, 
 as she watched the girl, her emotions were probably similar 
 to those that agitate some meek and staid hen, who, leading 
 a young brood of ducks from her nest, suddenly beholds them 
 displaying their aquatic proclivities by plunging into the 
 horse-pond, and performing all the evolutions of a regatta. 
 
 " Ah, child, I fear you think too little of what you wish or 
 intend to make yourself ! " 
 
 " Only have patience, Miss Jane, and some day I will show 
 you all the graces of Griselda and Gudrun the second. Dr. 
 Grey, have you seen Mrs. Gerome ? " 
 
 "Yes, — on two occasions." 
 
 "Is she not the most extraordinary and puzzling person 
 you ever looked at ? " 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. I57 
 
 "When and where eould you have met her?" 
 "For a few minutes only, last winter, I saw her on the 
 beach, near ' Solitude.' We exchanged a half-dozen words, 
 and she left an impression on my mind which all time will 
 not efface. Since that evening I have frequently endeavored 
 to surprise her on the same spot, but only once I succeeded 
 in catching a glimpse of a blue shawl that fluttered in the 
 distance. She seemed to me a beautiful, pale priestess, con- 
 secrated to the ministry of the shrine of sorrow; and, when 
 I hear snubbed-dom sneering at her, and remember the hope- 
 less expression with which her wonderful, homeless eyes 
 looked out across that grey, silent sea, — I cannot avoid think- 
 ing that she is very wise in barring her doors, and heeding 
 the advice of Montenebi, ' Complain not of thy woes to the 
 public: they will no more pity thee than birds of prey pity 
 the wounded deer.' " 
 
 " My acquaintance with Mrs. Gerome is too slight to war- 
 rant the utterance of an opinion relative to her idiosyn- 
 crasies, but I am afraid cynicism rather than grief immures 
 her from society. Her prematurely white hair and the re- 
 markable pallor of her smooth complexion combine to render 
 her appearance piquant and unnatural; and, certainly, there 
 is something in her face strangely suggestive of old Norse 
 myths, mystery, and magic. Her features, when analyzed, 
 prove faultlessly regular, but her life is out of tune, and the 
 expression of her countenance mars what would otherwise be 
 perfect beauty. I can, in some degree, describe the impres- 
 sion she produced upon me by quoting the lines that were 
 suggested when I saw her this morning, standing by Elsie 
 Maclean's bed, — 
 
 ' I saw a vision of a woman, where 
 
 Night and new morning strive for domination ; 
 Incomparably pale, and almost fair. 
 
 And sad beyond expression. 
 Her eyes were like some fli-e-enshrining gem. 
 
 Were stately, like the stars, and yet were tender ; 
 Her figure charmed me, like a windy stem. 
 
 Quivering, and drooped, and slender. 
 She measured measureless sorrow toward its leng^ 
 
 And breadth, and depth, and height.' " 
 
158 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Salome looked up from the eyelet she was working, but Dr. 
 Grey had turned his head towards his sister who had fallen 
 asleep in her chair, and the orphan could not see his face. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome must have been very young when she mar- 
 ried, and — " 
 
 "Hush! Janet looks so weary that I want her to have a 
 long nap, and our voices might disturb her." ' 
 
 He took his hat and gloves and left the room, and Salome 
 forgot her embroidery and fell into a reverie that proved 
 neither pleasant nor profitable, and lasted until Miss Jane 
 awoke. 
 
 In the afternoon of the following day, when the orphan 
 returned from her clandestine visit to the Italian musician, 
 she saw an unusual number of persons on the front gallery, 
 and found that the long-expected party from New York had 
 arrived during her absence. Miss Jane was talking to the 
 governess — a meek-looking, but exceedingly handsome woman, 
 of twenty-seven or eight years, with fair hair and quiet brown 
 eyes ; and every detail of her dress, speech, and bearing averred 
 that Edith Dexter was no humble scion of proletariat. Her 
 polished yet reserved manners bespoke high birth and aris- 
 tocratic associations; but something in the composed, sad 
 countenance, in the listless drooping of the pretty head, hinted 
 that she had long since spilt the rosy sparkling foam of her 
 cup of life, and was patiently drinking its muddy lees. 
 
 On the upper step sat Dr. Grey, with his arm encircling the 
 form of his ward, whose head rested very confidingly against 
 his shoulder. Muriel Manton was dressed in deep mourning, 
 and had evidently been weeping, for her guardian was ten- 
 derly wiping the tears from her cheek when Salome came up 
 the avenue ; and, with a keen, jealous pang that she had never 
 felt before, the latter scanned the stranger's claims to beauty. 
 
 Very black eyes, brilliant complexion, and fine teeth, she 
 certainly possessed; but her features were rather coarse; her 
 mouth was much too large for classic requirements; and 
 Salome was rejoiced to find her nose indisputably retrousse. 
 
 Years hence she would doubtless be a large, well-formed, 
 commanding woman, who could exhibit Lyons silk or Genoese 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 15& 
 
 velvet to the best advantage, and would be considered a fine- 
 looking, rosy, robust personage ; but at present the face, which 
 from under a small straw hat anxiously watched hers, was 
 infinitely handsomer, mSre attractive, more delicate, and in- 
 tellectual; and the miller's child felt that she had little to 
 apprehend from the merely personal charms of the wealthy 
 ward. 
 
 Salome felt injured as she eyed the doctor's arm, which 
 had never touched even her shoulder ; and it was painful and 
 humiliating to notice the affectionate manner in which his 
 hand stroked one of Muriel's that lay on his knee, — and to 
 remember that his fingers had not met hers in a friendly 
 grasp since long before his visit to Europe, — ^had only clasped 
 hers twice during their acquaintance. 
 
 " Come in, Salome, and let me introduce you to my ward 
 Muriel, and to Miss Dexter, who is prepared to receive you as 
 a pupil." 
 
 Muriel silently held out her hand ; but Salome only bowed 
 and run lightly up the steps, as if she did not perceive the 
 outstretched fingers. Miss Dexter rose and advanced to meet 
 her, saying, in a tone that indexed great kindness of heart, — 
 
 " I am exceedingly glad to meet you. Miss Salome ; for 
 Dr. Grey has promised that I shall find in you a most ex- 
 emplary and agreeable pupil." 
 
 "Thank you. I am indeed glad to hear that he has 
 changed his opinion of me ; and I must endeavor not to lose 
 my newly acquired amiable character, — ^but he was rather 
 rash to stand security for my good behavior." 
 
 She saw that Dr. Grey was surprised at her cold reception 
 of his pet and protege, and perversity took possession of her. 
 Going to the back of Miss Jane's old-fashioned rocking-chair 
 she put her arms around her, and,Jeaning over, kissed her 
 cheek several times. It was not her habit to caress any one 
 or any thing, — not even her little brother, — and this un- 
 usual demonstrativeness puzzled and surprised the old lady 
 who said, fondly, — 
 
 "I presume Ulpian is brave enough to encounter all the 
 risks of standing security for your obedience and docility." 
 
160 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Certainly I appreciate his chivalry, since none knows 
 better than he the danger — nay, probability, of a forfeiture 
 of the contract on my part." 
 
 Dr. Grey rose, and, looking steadily at her, said, in a tone 
 which she well understood, — 
 
 "Promises are, in my estimation, peculiarly sacred things; 
 and that which I made to Miss Dexter in your behalf was 
 based upon one that I gave you some time since, namely, that 
 I would have faith in you. Come with me, Muriel ; I want to 
 show you and Miss Dexter the finest cow this side of Ayrshire, 
 and some sheep that are handsome enough to compare favor- 
 ably with the best that ever browsed in the ' Court of Lions.' " 
 
 He took his ward's hand and led her away to the cattle- 
 yard, whither Miss Dexter accompanied them. 
 
 As Salome looked after the trio her eyes flashed and scarlet 
 spots burned on her cheeks, while a feeling of suffocation op- 
 pressed her heart. 
 
 " Why will you vex him, when you know that he tries so 
 hard to like you?" asked Miss Jane in a distressed tone, 
 stroking the girl's hot face, as she spoke. 
 
 The head was instantly lifted beyond her reach, and the 
 answer came swiftly, sharp and defiant, — 
 
 " Do you mean to say that it is so extremely difficult for 
 him to tolerate me ? " 
 
 "You are obliged to know that you are not one of his 
 favorites, like that sweet-tempered Muriel, to whom he seems 
 so warmly attached; and it is all your own fault, for he was 
 disposed to like you when he first came home. TJlpian loves 
 quiet and amiable people, who are never rude and snappish; 
 and it appears to me that you are trying to see how hateful 
 and spiteful you can be. Why upon earth did you not shake 
 hands with those strangers, and treat them politely ? " 
 
 "Because I don't choose to be hypocritical, — and I don't 
 like Miss Muriel Manton." 
 
 Nonsense 1 Stuff ! I only wish you were half as well-bred 
 and courteous, and lady-like." 
 
 "Do you, really? Then, to be obedient and, oblige you, 
 when they come back, I will imitate her example, and throw 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 161 
 
 myself into Dr. Grey's arms, and rub my cheek against his 
 shoulder, and fondle his hands. If this be ' lady-like,' then, 
 indeed, I penitently cry ' peccavi! ' and promise that in future 
 you shall not have cause to complain of me." 
 
 "Pooh, pooh, child! What ails you? Muriel has known 
 TJlpian all her life, and looks upon him now as her father. 
 He has petted her since she was a little girl, and loves her 
 almost as well as if she were his child, instead of his ward. 
 You know she is an orphan; and it is very natural for her to 
 cling to her guardian, who was for a great many years her 
 father's most intimate friend." 
 
 " We are both orphans, and she is certainly not my junior, 
 yet your propriety would be shocked if I behaved as she does. 
 Where is Stanley?" 
 
 " Studying his geography lesson, with the assistance of the 
 globe, in the library. What do you want with him ? " 
 
 " I am going to the beach, and wish him to walk with me." 
 
 " It is too late for you to start for the sea-side, and, more- 
 over, it would appear very discourteous in you to absent your- 
 self the first evening that these strangers spend here. Ulpian 
 would be displeaped." 
 
 " According to your statement a few minutes since, that is 
 his chronic condition, as far as I am concerned; and, as I 
 do not belong to the mimosa species, I think I may brave his 
 frowns." 
 
 " That is not the worst you have to apprehend. Child, I 
 think it would be bitter indeed, to bear Ulpian Grey's con- 
 tempt." 
 
 "I shall take care not to deserve it; and Dr. Grey never 
 forgets to be just." 
 
 " My dear little girl, what right have you to be jealous of 
 his love for his young ward?" 
 
 The flame that was slowly dying out of her face leaped up 
 fiercer than before, and she crimsoned to the edges of her 
 hair. 
 
 " Jealous ! Good heavens, Miss Jane, you must be dream- 
 ing ! I merely question the taste that allows his * lady-like ' 
 favorite to caress him so openly, and should not have ex- 
 11 
 
162 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 pressed my disapprobation so strongly if you had not rated 
 me soundly, and held her up as a model for my humble imi- 
 t-ation. If she and her governess are to stir up strife between 
 you and me, I shall heartily wish them a speedy passage to 
 Halifax or heaven. Beyond all peradventure I shall get 
 murderously jealous if you dare to give this sloe-eyed, peony- 
 faced girl, my place in your dear old heart. She, of course, 
 will fondle her guardian as much as she pleases, or as often 
 as he sees fit to allow; but woe unto her if I catch her hands 
 and lips about you, my dearest and best friend ! Don't scold 
 me and praise her, or some fine day I shall jump at and 
 strangle her, which you know would not be 'well-bred' or 
 ' lady-like,' much less moral and Christian." 
 
 She almost smothered the old lady in her arms, and kissed 
 her several times. 
 
 "What has stirred up the evil spirit in you? You look 
 as wicked as your mother Herodias, thirsting for the blood 
 of John the Baptist; or as Jezebel plotting against the 
 prophet — " 
 
 " And telling me that like her I am ' going to the dogs ' 
 is not the surest way to reform me. Stanley! Stanley! get 
 your hat and come here." 
 
 " Your awful temper will be your ruin if you don't put a 
 curb-bit on it. See here, Salome, don't be so utterly silly 
 and childish ! I do not wish you to go to the sea-shore this 
 evening." 
 
 " Please, Miss Jane, don't order me to stay at home, because, 
 then of course, I should feel bound to obey you, and I 
 should not behave prettily, and you would wish me at the 
 bottom of the sea, instead of on its brink. Let me go, and I 
 will come back cool as a cucumber, and well-behaved as Miss 
 Muriel Manton. Please don't prohibit me; and I promise I 
 will lose my evil spirit in the sea, like that Gergesene wretch 
 that haunted the tombs. Here comes Stanley. Don't shake 
 your head. I am oif." 
 
 Miss Jane would not receive the proffered farewell kiss, 
 but tears gathered and dimmed her eyes as she looked after 
 the graceful, girlish figure, swiftly crossing the lavm; and 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 163 
 
 Bad forebodings filled her afEectionate heart when she thought 
 of the unknown future that stretched before that impetuous, 
 jealous, imperious nature. 
 
 Anxious that the strangers should feel thoroughly welcome 
 and at home, she joined them as soon as possible after their 
 return from the sheepfold, and exerted herself to keep the 
 shuttlecock of conversation in constant motion; but herl 
 brother's watchful eyes discerned the perturbed feeling she 
 sought to hide; and, when she insisted, for the first time in 
 two years, upon taking her seat and presiding at the tea- 
 table, he busied himself in arranging her cushions comfort- 
 ably, and whispered, — 
 
 "How good and considerate you are, my precious sister. 
 A thousand thanks for this generous effort, which I trust will 
 not fatigue you." 
 
 He placed himself opposite, and was about to ask a bless- 
 ing on the meal, but paused to inquire, — 
 
 " Where are the children, Salome and Stanley ? " 
 
 " They have gone down to the beach, and we will not wait 
 for them." 
 
 Soon after, Muriel said, — 
 
 "I think Salome is almost beautiful. She has splendid 
 eyes and hair. Miss Edith, does she not remind you of a 
 piece of sculpture at Naples ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I noticed a resemblance to the Julia-Agrippina, and 
 the likeness must be remarkable, since it impressed us simul- 
 taneou'sly. Salome's brow is fuller, and her chin more 
 prominent than that of the Eoman woman we admired so 
 ardently; and, besides, I should judge that she had quite as 
 much or more will than the daughter of Germanicus, for her 
 lips are thinner." 
 
 Dr. Grey changed the topic of conversation, and Miss Dexter 
 courteously followed the cue. 
 
 The moon was high in heaven when Salome and her brother 
 came up the avenue; and, observing that the lights were extin- 
 guished in the front rooms, she surmised that the new-comers 
 had retired very early, in consequence of fatigue from their, 
 long journey. Sending Stanley to bed, she sat down on the 
 
164 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 steps to rest a few moments before going upstairs, and began 
 to fan herself with her straw hat. 
 
 She had grown very calm, and almost ashamed of her pas- 
 sionate ebullition in the presence of strangers ; and numerous 
 good resolutions were sending out fibrous roots in her heart. 
 How long she rested there she knew not, and started when he 
 Dr. Grey said, in a subdued voice, — 
 
 " Salome, I am waiting to lock the door, and should be glad 
 if you will come in now, or be careful to secure the inner bolt 
 whenever you do. As I always shut up the house, I was 
 afraid you might not think of it ; and burglaries are becoming 
 alarmingly frequent." 
 
 She rose instantly, and entered the hall. 
 
 "What time is it?" 
 
 " Eleven o'clock." 
 
 " Is it possible ? You know, sir, that the evenings are very 
 short now." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He was removing a chair from the gallery and closing the 
 Venetian blinds, and she could not see his face. Hoping to 
 receive some friendly look, which she was painfully aware she 
 did not deserve, she loitered till he turned around. 
 
 " Salome, have you a light in your room ? " 
 
 "I do not know, but suppose so." 
 
 " There are two candles in the library, and you had better 
 take one, rather than stumble along in the dark and wake 
 everybody." 
 
 He brought out one, and handed it to her. 
 
 " Thank you. Good-night, Dr. Grey." 
 
 " Good-night, Salome." 
 
 The candle-light showed no displeasure in his counte- 
 nance, which was calm as usual, and there was not a hint of 
 harshness in his unwontedly' low voice ; but she read dis- 
 appointment in his grave, kind eyes. She knew that she 
 could not sleep until she had made her peace with him ; and, 
 though it cost her a great effort to conquer her pride, she said, 
 humbly, — 
 
 " * And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 165 
 
 seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent, — 
 thoTi shalt forgive him.' " 
 
 "Yes; but the frequency of the offence renders it difficult 
 to believe the repentance genuine." 
 
 " Christ, your master, did not doubt it." 
 
 " I am less than the disciples whom he addressed ; and they 
 answered, ' Increase our faith.' " 
 
 " You did not pray for me this morning." 
 
 " I never neglect my promises. Why do you doubt that I 
 fulfilled them this morning ? " 
 
 " This has been one of my sinful days, when Satan runs 
 rough-shod over all my good intentions, and drags me through 
 the mire that I was trying to hold my soul far above. I tell 
 you, sir, that the ' unclean spirit ' that vexed the daughter of 
 the Syrophcenician woman was mild, and harmless, and well- 
 mannered, in comparison with the demon that takes bodily 
 possession of nle, and whose name is not ' Suset ' ! but a fear- 
 ful Ruach demanding the ban Cherem. I once thought all 
 that part of Scripture which referred to the casting out of 
 devils was metaphorical ; but I know better now ; for the one 
 that Luther assaulted with his inkstand was not more pal- 
 pable than that which enters into my heart every now and 
 then, and overturns the altars of the ' true, good, and beauti- 
 ful,' and sets up instead a small hall of Eblis, as full of 
 horrible, mis-shapen things as that hideous ' Last Judgment ' 
 of Orcagna, in the Campo Santo at Pisa, which you once 
 showed me in a portfolio of engravings. Oh, Dr, Grey! you 
 ought to be merciful to me; for indeed God gave me a fear- 
 fully wicked and cunning spirit for a perpetual companion 
 and tempter. Even Christ had Lucifer and Quarantina." 
 
 "Yes, and conquered both, and promised assistance to all 
 who earnestly desire and resolve to follow his example." 
 
 " You cannot forgive my rudeness ? " 
 
 "The act of incivility was very slight; but, my young 
 friend, the unaccountable perversity of your character cer- 
 tainly fills my mind with serious apprehension concerning 
 your future. Of course, I can very readily forgive the occa- 
 
166 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 sion that displayed it, but I cannot entirely forget the spirit 
 that distresses me when I least expect it." 
 
 " If you will dismiss this afternoon from your mind, I 
 will never — " 
 
 " Stop ! Make me no more promises till you are strong 
 enough to keep them inviolate. Promise less and pray more ; 
 I am not angry, but I am disappointed." 
 
 She drooped her head to avoid his grave, sad gaze, and for 
 a moment there was silence. 
 
 "Dr. Grey, will you shake hands with me, in token of 
 pardon ? " 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it." 
 
 He took her hand in both of his, pressed it kindly, and said, 
 in a low, solemn tone, — 
 
 " Good-night, Salome. May God guide, and strengthen, 
 and help you to be the noble woman, the consistent Christian, 
 which only His grace and blessing can ever enable you to be- 
 come. Eemember the cheering words of Jean Paul Eichter, 
 'Evil is. like the nightmare, the instant yon bestir yourself 
 it has already ended.'" 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Ulpian, have you had any conversation with Salome?" 
 
 " Upon what subject ? " 
 
 " Have you talked with her concerning her studies ? " 
 
 " Not recently. Soon after Muriel and Miss Dexter came, 
 I mentioned to her the fact that I should be glad to see her 
 enter a class with Muriel and pursue the same studies, and 
 that such an arrangement would be entirely agreeable to Miss 
 Dexter; but she declined the proposition, saying she would 
 only trouble the latter to teach her Italian. Do you know 
 why she is so anxious to acquire that language ? " 
 
 " No ; to tell you the truth, I know less and less every day 
 about her actions, for the child has suddenly grown very 
 reserved. This morning she was walking up and down the 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 167 
 
 library with her hands behind her and her eyes looking as if 
 they were travelling to Jericho or Jeddo, and when I asked 
 her why she was so nmisnally silent, she snapped like a toy- 
 torpedo, ' I am silent because this is one of my wicked days, 
 and I am fighting the devil; and if I open my lips I shall 
 say something that will give him the victory.' I held out 
 my hand to her and begged her to come and sit by me and 
 tell me what troubled or tempted her, — and what do you 
 suppose she said ? " 
 
 " Something, I am afraid, that I shall be sorry to hear you 
 repeat." 
 
 " She laid her hand on her heart and answered, ' You are 
 very good, Miss Jane, but you can no more help me than the 
 disciples could relieve that- wretch whom only Christ healed.' 
 ' This kind goeth not out hut by prayer and fasting.' Where- 
 upon, she snatched a book from the table and left the room. 
 I did not see her for several hours, and when I met her in 
 the hall, a few moments since, I said, ' Well, dear, which won 
 the victory, sin or my little girl ? ' She put her hands on my 
 shoulders, laughed bitterly, and answered, 'It was a drawn 
 battle. Neither has much to boast of, and we lie on our 
 arms watching — nay, glaring at each other. Let me be quiet 
 a little while, and don't ask me about it." 
 
 " Can you conjecture the cause of the present trouble ? " 
 
 "I have a suspicion." 
 
 " Miss Jane paused, sighed, and frowned. 
 
 " I should think you might persuade her to confide in you." 
 
 " Pooh ! Persuade her ? I would quite as soon undertake 
 to persuade the Andes to dance a jig as attempt to discover 
 what she has determined not to divulge. If you knew her as 
 well as I do, you would appreciate the uselessness of trying to 
 persuade her to do anything. But you men never see what lies 
 right under your noses, and I believe if you lived in the same 
 house with that child for five years longer you would under- 
 stand her as little as you do to-day. TJlpian, shut the door, 
 and sit down here close to me." 
 
 Dr. Grey complied ; and, laying her shrunken hand on her 
 brother's knee. Miss Jane said, hesitatingly, — 
 
168 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " My dear boy, I don't know whether I ought to tell you, 
 and, indeed, I do not see my way clearly ; but you seem so un- 
 suspecting that I think it is my duty to talk to you." 
 
 " Pray come to the point, dear Janet. Your exordium is 
 very tantalizing. Tell me frankly what disturbs you." 
 
 " It pains me to call your attention to a fact that I know 
 cannot fail to produce annoyance." 
 
 He put his arm around her, and, drawing her head to his 
 shoulder, answered, tenderly, — 
 
 "My precious sister, I have seen for some days that you 
 were perplexed and anxious, but I abstained from questioning 
 you because I felt assured whenever you deemed it best to con- 
 fide in me, you would voluntarily unburden your heart. Now 
 lay all your troubles upon me, and keep back nothing. Has 
 Salome grieved you ? " 
 
 " Oh, the child does not intend to grieve me ! Ulpian, 
 can't you imagine what makes her unhappy, and restless, and 
 contrary ? " 
 
 " She is very wayward, passionate, and obstinate, and any 
 restraint upon her whims is peculiarly irksome and intolerable 
 to her ; but I believe she is really striving to correct the unfor- 
 tunate defects in her character. She evidently dislikes out 
 guests, and this proves a continual source of disquiet to her; 
 for, while she endeavors to treat them courteously, I can sea 
 that she would be excessively rude if she dared to indulge hei 
 antipathies." 
 
 " Do you know why she dislikes Muriel so intensely ? " 
 
 " No ; I cannot even conjecture. Muriel is very amiable* 
 and affectionate, and seems disposed to become very, fond of 
 Salome, if she would only encourage her advances. Can you 
 explain the mystery ? " 
 
 " If you were not as blind as a mole, or the fish in Mam^ 
 moth Cave, you would see that Salome is insanely jealous of 
 your affection for your ward, and that is the cause of all the 
 trouble." 
 
 "It is unreasonable and absurd in her to entertain such 
 feelings; and, moreover, she has no right to cherish any 
 jealousy towards my ward." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 169 
 
 "Unreasonable! Yes, quite true; but did you ever know 
 a woman to be very reasonable concerning the man she loves ? '* 
 
 Dr. Grey's quiet face flushed, and he rose instantly, looking 
 incredulous and embarrassed. 
 
 " Surely, my dear sister, you do not intend to insinuate, or 
 desire ma to infer, that Salome has any — " 
 
 He paused, bit his lip, and walked to the window. 
 
 " I mean to say, in plain Anglo-Saxon, and I desire you to 
 understand, that Salome is no longer a child; and that she 
 loves you, my dear boy, better than she will ever love any other 
 human being. These things are very strange, indeed, and 
 girls' whims bafiBe all rules and disappoint all reasonable ex- 
 pectations ; but, nevertheless, it does no good to shut your eyes 
 to facts that are as clear as daylight. It is not a sudden 
 freak that has seized the poor child; it has grown upon her, 
 almost without her understanding herself ; but I discovered it 
 the day that you left home so unexpectedly for New York. 
 Her distress betrayed her real feelings ; and, since then, I have 
 watched her, and can see how completely her thoughts centre 
 in you." 
 
 " Oh, Janet, I hope you mistake her ! I cannot believe it 
 possible, for I recall nothing in her conduct that justifies your 
 supposition; and I do not think I lack penetration. If she 
 were really interested in me, as you imagine, she certainly 
 would not thrust so prominently and constantly before me 
 faults of character which she well knows I cannot tolerate. 
 Moreover, my dear sister, consider the disparity in our years, 
 the incompatibility of our tastes and habits, and the improb- 
 ability that a handsome young girl should cherish any feeling 
 stronger than esteem or friendship for a staid man of my age f 
 No, no; it is too incredible to be entertained, and I am sorry 
 you ever suggested such an annoying chimera to me. Salome 
 is rather a singular compound, I willingly admit, but I acquit 
 her of the folly you seem inclined to impute to her." 
 
 Dr. Grey walked up and down the library floor, and, as 
 his sister watched him, a sad smile trembled over her thin, 
 wrinkled face. 
 
 "Ulpian, you are considerably younger than our poor 
 
170 UNTIL DEATH US CO PART. 
 
 father was when he married a beautiful creature not one 
 month older than Salome is to-day. Will you sit in judgment 
 on your own young mother ? " 
 
 " Kay, Janet ; the parallelism is not as apparent as you 
 imagine, for my manner toward Salome has been calculated 
 to check and chill any sentiment analogous to that which my 
 father sought to win from my mother. Pray, do not press 
 upon me a surmise which is indescribably painful to me." 
 
 He resumed his seat, and, thrusting his fingers through his 
 hair, leaned his head on his open hand. 
 
 " My dear boy, if true, why should it prove indescribably 
 painful to you?" 
 
 " Cannot your womanly intuitions spare me an explicit 
 reply ? " 
 
 " No ; speak frankly to me." 
 
 " No man of honor — no man who has any delicacy or refine- 
 ment of feeling — can fail to be distressed and annoyed by 
 the thought that he has unintentionally and unconsciously 
 aroused in a woman's heart an interest which he cannot pos- 
 sibly reciprocate." 
 
 "But, if you have never considered the subject until now, 
 how do you know that you may not be able to return the 
 affection ? " 
 
 "Because, when I examine my own heart, I find not even 
 the germ of a feeling' which years might possibly ripen into 
 love." 
 
 " Will you candidly answer the question I am about to ask 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, I think I can safely promise that much, simply be- 
 cause I wish to conceal nothing from you; and I cannot con- 
 jecture any inquiry on your part from which I should shrink. 
 What would you ask ? " 
 
 " Is it because you are interested in some other woman, 
 that you speak so pesitively of the hopelessness of my poor 
 Salome's case?" 
 
 " No, my sister ; no woman has any claim or hold on my 
 heart stronger than that of mere friendship. I have never 
 loved any one as I must love the woman I make my wife; and 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAUT. 171 
 
 since I have seen and merely admired so many who were at- 
 tractive, lovely, and lovable, I often think that I shall prob- 
 ably never marry. 
 
 ' For several virtues 
 
 I have liked several women ; never any 
 With so full a soul, but some defect in her 
 Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owned, 
 And put it to a foil.' 
 
 Of course this is a matter with reference to which I shall not 
 dogmatize, for we are all more or less the victims of caprice; 
 and, like other men, I may some day set the imperious feet of 
 fancy upon the neck, of judgment and sound reason. As yet, 
 I have not met the perfect character whom I could ask to 
 bear my name ; still, I may be so fortunate as either to find my 
 ideal, or imagine that I do; or else become so earnestly at- 
 tached to some beautiful woman, that, for her sake, I will 
 willingly lower my lofty standard. These are the merest 
 possible contingencies, and I have little inclination to discuss 
 them; but I wish at all times to be entirely frank with you. 
 Salome would never suit me as a life-long companion. She 
 meets none of the requirements of my intellectual nature, and 
 her perverse disposition, and what might almost be termed 
 diablerie, repel instead of attracting me. I pity the child, and 
 can sympathize cordially with her efforts to redeem herself 
 from the luckless associations of earlier years that wofully 
 distorted her character; and I can truly say that I am in- 
 terested in her welfare and improvement, and have a faint 
 brotherly affection for her; but I thoroughly comprehend my 
 own feelings when I assure you, Janet, that were Salome and 
 I left alone in the world I could never for a moment enter- 
 tain the idea of calling such a wayward child my wife. Are 
 you satisfied ? " 
 
 " Convinced, at least, that you are not deceiving me. But, 
 TJlpian, the girl is growing very beautiful — don't you think 
 BO? — or, is it my love that makes me see her through flatter- 
 ing lenses?" 
 
 "Her lips are too thin, and her eyes too keen and restless 
 for perfect beauty, which claims repose as one of its essential 
 
1Y2 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAB'r. 
 
 elements; but, notwithstanding these flaws, she has un- 
 doubtedly one of the handsomest faces I have ever seen, and 
 certainly a graceful, fine figure." 
 
 " And you are such an admirer of beauty," said Miss Jane, 
 slipping her fingers caressingly into her hrother's hand. 
 
 " Yes ; I shall not deny that I yield to no one in apprecia- 
 tion of lovely faces; but, if I am aware that, like some rich 
 crimson June rose whose calyx cradles a worm, the heart 
 beneath the perfect form is gnawed by some evil tendency, or 
 shelters vindictive passion and sinful impulses, I should cer- 
 tainly not select it in making up the precious bouquet that is 
 to shed perfume and beauty in my home, and call my thoughts 
 from the din and strife of the outer world to holiness and 
 peace." 
 
 " You have no mercy on the child." 
 
 "I ought to have no mercy on glaring faults which she 
 should ere this have corrected." 
 
 " But she is so young — only seventeen ! Think of it ! " 
 
 Dr. Grey frowned, and partially withdrew his hand from 
 his sister's clasp. 
 
 " Janet, you grieve me. Surely you are not pleading with 
 me in behalf of Salome ? " 
 
 Tears trickled over Miss Jane's sallow cheeks and dripped 
 on the doctor's hand, as she replied, — 
 
 " Bear with me, Ulpian. The girl is very dear to me ; and, 
 loving you as she unquestionably does, I know that you could 
 make her a noble, admirable woman,— r-for she has some fine 
 traits, and your influence would perfect her character. Be- 
 lieve me, my dear boy, you, and you only, can remould her 
 heart." 
 
 " Possibly, — if I loved her ; for then I would be patient 
 and forbearing towards her faults. But I cannot even respect 
 that handsome, fiery, impulsive, unreasonable child, much less 
 love her; and, if I ever marry, my wife must be worthy to 
 remould my own defective life and erring nature. I am sur- 
 prised, my dear sister, that you, whose sincere affection I can 
 not doubt, should be willing to see me link my life with that 
 of one so much younger, and, I grieve to say it, so far in- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 1^3 
 
 ferior in all respects. What congenial companionship could 
 I promise myself? What confidence could I repose — what 
 esteem could I entertain — for a silly girl, who, without war- 
 rant and utterly unsought, bestows her love (if, indeed, what 
 you say be true) upon a man who never even dreamed of such 
 f oUy, and is old enough to be her father ? " 
 
 "I can not comprehend the logic that condemns Salome, 
 and justifies your own mother ; for, if there be any difference 
 in their lines of conduct, I am too stupid to see it." 
 
 Miss Jane lifted her head from her brother's shoulder, reso- 
 lutely dried her eyes, and settled her cap. 
 
 "My mother's tombstone should shelter her from all ani- 
 madversion, especially from the lips that owe their existence 
 to her. Do not, my sister, disturb the mouldering ashes of 
 the long-buried past. The unfortunate fact you have men- 
 tioned, and which I should gladly doubt if you would only- 
 permit me to do so, renders it necessary for me to be perfectly 
 candid with you, and you will, I trust, pardon what I feel 
 compelled to say to you. I have remarked that you watch me 
 quite closely whenever I am engaged in conversation with my 
 ward or her governess, and yesterday, when Muriel came, 
 stood by me, and leaned her arm on my shoulder, you frowned 
 and looked harshly at the child. Once for all, let me tell 
 you that there is no more possibility of my loving Muriel or 
 Edith, than Salome. Of the three, I care most for Muriel, 
 who looks upon me as her second father, and to whom I am 
 deeply attached. If I caress the poor, stricken child, and 
 allow her to approach me familiarly, you ought to understand 
 your brother sufficiently well not to ascribe his conduct to any 
 feeling which he would blush to confess to his sister. The 
 day before Horace died, he said, * Be a father to my daughter ; 
 take my place when I am gone.' If I were at libertv t-^ 
 divulge some matters confided to me, I could easily assu-e 
 you that there is not a shadow of possibility that .ATiiriel will 
 ever grieve and mortify me as Salome has done. Xov,- I.r.V- 
 at me, dear Janet, and kiss me, and trust your brnt^c^ ; *■->» };:» 
 wiU never deceive you, and can not endure a iiioTni'r!t'= es- 
 trangement from you." 
 
174 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Miss Jane put up her lips for the caress^ and, after a short 
 silence, Dr. Grey continued, — 
 
 " Tell me now what you think best under the circumstances, 
 and I will endeavor to cooperate with' you. Does Salome 
 know you are cognizant of her weakness — ^her misfortune — " 
 
 He stammered, and again his face flushed. 
 
 "Upon my word, Ulpian, you are positively blushing! 
 Don't worry yourself, dear, over what can not be helped, or at 
 least is attributable to no fault of yours. No; you may be 
 sure Salome would be drawn, quartered, and broiled, before 
 she would confess to me the feeling which she does not sus- 
 pect I have discovered. Poor thing ! I can't avoid pitying her 
 whenever you take Muriel's hand or caress her in any way. 
 This morning you smoothed the hair back from her forehead 
 while she was stooping over her drawing, and poor Salome's 
 eyes flashed and looked like a leopard's. She clenched her 
 fingers as if she were strangling something, and an expression 
 came over her face that was dangerous, and made me shiver a 
 little. Something must be done ; but I am sure I do not know 
 what to advise." 
 
 "How futile and mocking are merely human schemes! 
 My principal object in bringing Muriel and Miss Dexter here, 
 was to provide agreeable and improving companions for your 
 pet and to afford her the privilege of sharing the educational 
 advantages which Muriel enjoyed. L'homme propose, et Dieu 
 dispose, if, indeed, an occurrence so earnestly to be deplored 
 can be deemed providential. What are her plans relative to 
 Jessie ? " 
 
 " If she has matured any, she keeps them shut up in her 
 own heart. Once she talked freely to me on all subjects, but 
 recently she seems to avoid acquainting me with her inten- 
 tions or schemes. Of course, Ulpian, you know I have always 
 expected to leave her a portion of my property." 
 
 " Certainly, dear Janet ; you ought to provide comfortably 
 for the girl whom you have taught to rely upon your bounty. 
 It would be cruel and unpardonable to foster hopes that you 
 could not fully realize." 
 
 " It was my intention to put into your hands the share I 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 175 
 
 intended for her, and to leave her also to your care, when I 
 die; but now I know not what is best. If she could be sepa- 
 rated from you, she might divert her thoughts and become in- 
 terested in other things or persons ; but so long as you are in 
 the same house I know there will be nothing but wretchedness 
 and disappointment for her." : 
 
 After a long pause, during which Dr. Grey looked seriouslji 
 pained and perplexed, he said, sorrowfully, — 
 
 " You are right in thinking separation would be best ; and I 
 will go away at once — " 
 
 " Go where ? " exclaimed his sister, grasping his coat-sleeve. 
 
 " I will furnish the rooms over my office, and live there. It 
 will be more convenient for my business ; but I dislike to leave 
 you and the dear old homestead." 
 
 " Stuff ! You will churn the Atlantic, with the North Pole 
 for a dasher ! Ulpian Grey ! come weal come woe, I don't in- 
 tend to give you up. Here, right here, you will live while 
 there is breath in my body, — unless you wish to make me sob 
 it out and die the sooner. Pooh ! Salome's shining eyes can 
 not recompense me for the loss of my boy's blue ones, and I 
 will not hear of such nonsense as the move you propose. You 
 know, dear, I can't be here very long at the best, and while 
 God spares me I want you near me. Besides, the separation 
 of a few miles would not be worth a thimbleful of chaff; for, 
 of course, Salome would hear of or see you daily, and the 
 change would amount to nothing but anxiety and grief on my 
 part. We will think the matter over, and do nothing rashly. 
 But try to be patient with my little girl; and, for my sake, 
 Ulpian, do not allow her to suspect that you dream of her 
 feeling towards you. It is pitiable, — ^it is distressing beyond 
 expression; and God knows, if I had thought for an instant 
 that such a state of things would ever have come to pass, I 
 would have left her in the poor-house sooner than have been 
 instrumental in bringing such misery upon her young life. 
 Last night I was suffering so much with my shoulder that 
 I could not sleep, and I heard the child pacing her room until 
 after three o'clock. It was useless to question her; for, of 
 course, she would not confess the real cause, and I did not 
 
176 UNTIL BEATH US DO PART. 
 
 wish her to know that 1 noticed what I could not cure. But, 
 my dearest boy, we are not to be blamed; so don't look so 
 mortified, and grieved. I would not have opened your un- 
 suspecting eyes if I had not feared that your ignorance of 
 the truth might increase the trouble, and I knew I could 
 safely appeal to my sailor-boy's honor. Now you know all, 
 and must be guided by your own good sense and delicacy in 
 your future course toward the poor, proud young thing. Be 
 guarded, Ulpian, and don't torment her by petting Muriel in 
 her presence ; for sometimes I am afraid there is bad blood in 
 her veins, that brings that wicked glow to her eyes, and I 
 dread that she might suddenly say or do some desperate thing 
 that would plunge us all in sorrow. You know she is not a 
 meek creature, and we must pity her weakness." 
 
 Dr. Grey had grown very pale, and the profound regret 
 printed on his countenance found expression also in the deep- 
 ened and saddened tones of his voice. 
 
 " Trust me, Janet ! I will do all a man can to rectify the 
 mischief, of which, God knows, I have been an innocent and 
 entirely unintentional cause. Salome's course is unwomanly, 
 and lowers her in my estimation ; but she is so young I shall 
 hope and pray that her preference for me is not sufficiently 
 strong to prove more than an idle, fleeting, girlish fancy." 
 
 He took his gloves from the table and left the room; and, 
 for some time after his departure, his sister sat rocking her- 
 self to and fro, pondering all that had passed. Finally, she 
 struck her hand decisively upon the cushioned top of her 
 crutch, and muttered, — 
 
 " Yes, he certainly is as nearly perfect as humanity can be ; 
 but, after all, Ulpian Grey is only flesh and blood, and despite 
 his efforts to crush it, there must be some vanity hidden under 
 his proud humility, — for certainly he is both humble in one 
 sense, and inordinately proud in another ; and I do not believe 
 there lives a man of his age who would not be flattered by the 
 love of a fresh youlig beauty like Salome. He thinks now 
 that he is distressed and mortified; and, of course, he is 
 honest in what he tells me ; but I have studied human nature 
 to very little purpose for the, last fifty years, if, before long, 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 1Y7 
 
 he does not find himself more interested in Salome than he 
 will be willing to confess. Her love for him will invest her 
 with a charm she never possessed before, for men are vul- 
 nerable as women to the cunning advances of flattery. One 
 thing is as sure and clear as that two and two make four, — ^if 
 he is proof against Salome's devotion it will be attributable to 
 the fact that he gives his heart to some one else ; and I thought 
 his blue eyes rather shied away from mine when he said he 
 had yet to meet the woman he could marry. You don't intend 
 to deceive me, my precious boy, I know you don't; but I 
 should not be astounded if you had hoodwinked yourself, — a 
 very little. But ' sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,' 
 and I will wait, — and we shall see what we shall see." 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 "Elsie, it is worse than useless to talk to me. Once I 
 could listen to you, — once I felt as you do. now; but that time 
 has gone by forever. I will read to you as often as you desire 
 it, provided you do not make every chapter a text for a sermon. 
 What do you wish to hear this morning ? " 
 
 "The fortieth Psalm." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome opened the Bible, and, when she had finished 
 the psalm designated, shut the book and laid it back close to 
 Elsie's pillow. 
 
 The old woman placed her hand on the round, white arm of 
 her mistress, who rested carelessly against the bed. 
 
 "You know, my child, that David's afflictions were sore 
 indeed ; but he declares, ' I waited patiently for the Lord, and 
 he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.' You will not be 
 patient, and God can't help you till you are. We are like 
 children punished for bad conduct, — as long as we rebel and 
 struggle, of course we must be still further chastised; but the 
 moment we show real penitence, our parents notice that we are 
 bearing correction patiently, and then they throw away the 
 rod and stretch out their arms, and snatph us close to their 
 13 
 
1 78 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 loving hearts. Even so God holds one hand to draw us ten. , 
 derly to Him ; and, if we are obstinately sinful, with the other 
 Be scourges us into the right path, — determined to help us, 
 even against our own wills. Ah, if I could see you waiting 
 patiently for the Lord ! " 
 
 " You will never see it. Patience was ' scourged ' out of 
 me, and now I stand still because I am worn out with strug- 
 gling, waiting — not patiently, but wearily and helplessly — 'to 
 see the end of my punishment. What have I done that I 
 should feign a penitence I shall never feel? I was a happy, 
 trusting, unoffending woman, when God smote me fiercely; 
 and, because I was so innocent, I could not kiss my stinging 
 rod, I grappled desperately with it. Elsie, don't stir up the 
 bitter dregs in my soul, and mix them with every thought. 
 Let them settle." 
 
 "My darling, I don't want them to settle. I pray either 
 that they may be stirred up and taken out, or sweetened by 
 the grace of God. Do you ever think of the day when you 
 will face your sainted mother ? " 
 
 " No. I think only of enduring this present life until 
 death, my deliverer, comes to my rescue." "^ 
 
 " But, my bairn, you are not fit to die." 
 
 ".-.Pit to die as to live," answered her mistress, morosely. 
 
 " Por God's sake, don't flout the Almighty in that wicked 
 manner! If you would only be baptized and take refuge in 
 prayer, as every Christian should, you would find peace for 
 your poor, miserable soul." 
 
 " No ; peace can't be poured out of a pi-tcher with the baptis- 
 mal water ; and all the waves tossing and glittering out there 
 in the ocean could not wash one painful memory from my 
 heart. I have had one baptism, and it was ample and 
 thorough. I went down into the waters of woe, and all their 
 black billows broke over me. Instead of the Jordan, I was 
 immersed in the Dead Sea, and the asphaltum cleaves to me." 
 
 "Oh, dearie, you will break my heart! I wish now that 
 you had died when you were only fourteen months old, for 
 then there would have been one more precious lamb in the 
 flock of the Good Shepherd, safe in heavenly pastures — one 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 179 
 
 more dear little golden head nestling on Jesus' bosom, — in- 
 stead of — of — " 
 
 Elsie's emotion mastered her voice, and she sobbed con- 
 vulsively. 
 
 " Why did not you finish ? ' Instead of a gray head waiting 
 to go down into the pit of perdition.' Yes, it was a terrible 
 blunder that I was not allowed to die in my infancy; but it 
 can't be helped now, and I wish you would not fret yourself 
 into a fever over the irremediable. Why will you persist in 
 tormenting yourself and me about my want of resignation 
 and faith, when you know that exhortation and persuasion 
 have no more effect upon me than the whistle of the plover 
 down yonder in the sedge and sea-weed, — ^where I heartily 
 wish I were lying, ten feet under the shells ? Eather a damp 
 pUlow for my fastidious, proud head, but, at least, cool and 
 quiet. Calm yourself, my dear Elsie, for God will not hold 
 you responsible if I miss my place among the saints, when He 
 divides the sheep from the goats, in the last day, — Dies irce, 
 dies ilia. Let me straighten your pillow and smooth your 
 cap-border, for I see your doctor coming up the walk. There, 
 — dry your eyes. When you want me, send Eobert or Katie to 
 call me." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome leaned over the helpless, prostrate form on 
 the bed, pressed her cheek against that of her nurse, where 
 tears still glistened, and glided swiftly out of the room just 
 before Dr. Grey entered. 
 
 Never had he seen his patient so completely unnerved; but, 
 observing her efforts to compose herself, he forbore any al- 
 lusion to an agitation which he suspected was referable to 
 mental rather than physical causes. Bravely the stubborn 
 woman struggled to steady her voice, and still the twitching 
 tell-tale muscles about her mouth ; but the burden of anxiety 
 finally bore down all resolves, and, covering her face with her 
 broad hand, she wept unrestrainedly. 
 
 In profound silence Dr. Grey sat beside her for nearly five 
 minutes; then, fearful that the excitement might prove in- 
 jurious, he said, gently, — 
 
 " I hope you are not suffering so severely from bodily pain? 
 
180 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 What distresses you, my good woman? Perhaps, if I knew 
 the cause, I might be able to render you some service." 
 
 " It is not my body, — that, you know, is numb, and gives 
 me no pain, — but my mind ! Doctor, I am suffering in mind, 
 and you have no medicine that can ease that." 
 
 "Possibly I may accomplish more than you imagine is 
 within reach of my remedies. Of one thing you may rest 
 assured, — you will never have reason to regret any confidence 
 you may repose in me." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I believe you are a Christian ; at least, I have 
 heard so; and, since my affliction, I have been watching you 
 very closely, and begin to think I can trust you. Are you a 
 member of the church?" 
 
 "I am; although that fact alone should not entitle me to 
 your confidence. We are all erring, and full of faults, but I 
 endeavor to live in such a manner that I shall not bring dis- 
 grace upon the holy faith I profess." 
 
 " Shut the door, and come back to me." 
 
 He bolted the door, which stood ajar, and resumed his seat. 
 
 " Dr. Grey,. I know as well as you do that I can't last a 
 great while, and I ought to prepare for what may overtake me 
 any day. I have tried to live in accordance with the law of 
 God, and I am not afraid to die; but I am afraid to leave 
 my mistress behind me. When I am gone there will be no one 
 to watch over and plead with her, and I dread lest her precious 
 soul may be lost. She won't go to God for herself, or by her- 
 self, and who will pray for her salvation when I am in my 
 shroud? Oh, I can not die in peace, leaving her alone in the 
 world she hates and despises ! What will become of my poor, 
 bonnie bairn?" 
 
 Elsie sobbed aloud, and Dr. Grey asked, — 
 
 " Has Mrs. Gerome no living relatives ? " 
 
 "None, sir, in America. There are some cousins in Scot- 
 land, but she has never seen them, and never will." 
 
 " Where are the members of her husband's family ? " 
 
 A visible shudder crept over that portion of the woman's 
 body which was not paralyzed, and her face grew dark and 
 stern. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 181 
 
 " He was an orphan." 
 
 "His loss seems to have had a terrible effect upon Mrs. 
 Gerome, and rendered her bitter and hopeless." 
 
 " How hopeless, none but she and I and the God above us 
 know. Once she was the meekest, sweetest spirit, that evei; 
 gladdened a nurse's heart, and I thought the world was 
 blessed by her coming into it ; but now she is sacrilegious and 
 scofiBng, and almost dares the Lord's judgments. Dr. Grey, it 
 would nearly freeze your blood to hear her sometimes. Poor 
 thing! she will have no companions, and so has a habit of 
 talking to herself, and I often hear her arguing with the Al- 
 mighty about her life, and the trouble He allowed to fall into 
 it. Last night she was walking there under my window, beg- 
 ging God to take her out of the world before I die. Begging, 
 did I say ? Nay, — demanding. My precious, pretty bairn ! " 
 
 " Elsie, be candid with me. Is not Mrs. Gerome partially 
 deranged ? " 
 
 She struggled violently to raise herself, but failing, her 
 head fell back, and she lifted her finger angrily. 
 
 " No more deranged than you or I. That is a vile slander 
 of busybodies whom she will not receive, and who take it for 
 granted that no lady in her sound senses would refuse the 
 privilege of gossiping with them. She is as sane as any one, 
 though there is an unnatural appearance about her, and if her 
 heirt was only as sound as her head I could die easily. They 
 started the report of craziness long, long ago, in order to get 
 hold of her fortune; but it was too infamous a scheme to 
 succeed." 
 
 Elsie's strong white teeth were firmly set, and her clenched 
 fingers did not relax. 
 
 "Who started the report of her insanity?" 
 
 " One who injured her, and made her what you see her." 
 
 "She had no children?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! Once I begged her to adopt a pretty little orphan 
 girl we saw in Athens, but she ridiculed me for an old fool, 
 and asked me if I wished to see her warm a viper to sting 
 what was left of hef heart." 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome has indulged her grief for her husband's 
 
182 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 loss, until she has become morbidly sensitive. She should go 
 into the world, and interest herself in benevolent schemes; 
 and, ultimately, her diseased thoughts would iiow into new 
 and healthful channels. The secluded life she leads is a hot- 
 bed for the growth of noxious fungi in heart and mind. If 
 you possess any influence over her, persuade her to re-enter 
 society. She is still young enough to find not only a cure for 
 her grief, but an ample share of even earthly happiness." 
 
 Elsie sighed, and waved her hand impatiently. 
 
 "You do not know all, or you would understand that in 
 this world she can not expect much happiness. Besides, she 
 is peculiarly sensitive about her appearance; and, of course, 
 when she is seen, people stare, and wonder how such a young 
 thing got that pile of white hair. That is the reason she quit 
 travelling and shut herself up here." 
 
 " Was it grief that prematurely silvered her hair? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; it was as black as your coat, until her trouble 
 came; and then in a fortnight it turned as gray as you see it 
 now. Doctor, I said she was not deranged, and I spoke truly ; 
 but sometimes I have feared that, when I am gone, she might 
 get desperate, and, in her loneliness, destroy herself. You are 
 a sensible man, and can hold your tongue, and I feel that I 
 can trust you. Now, I know that Eobert loves her, and while 
 he lives will serve her faithfully ; but you are wiser than my 
 son, and I should be better satisfied if I left her in your 
 charge, when I go home. Will you promise me to take care 
 of her, and to try to comfort her in the day when she sees 
 me buried ? " 
 
 " Elsie, you impose upon me a duty which I am afraid Mrs. 
 Gerome will not allow me to discharge; and, since she is so 
 exceedingly averse to meeting strangers, I should not feel 
 justified in thrusting myself into her presence." 
 
 " Not even to prevent a crime ? " 
 
 " I hope that your excited imagination and anxious heart 
 exaggerate the possibility of the danger to which you allude." 
 
 " No; exaggeration is not one of my habits, and I know my 
 mistress better than she knows herself. She thinks that sui- 
 cide is not a sin, but says it is cowardly; and she utterly de- 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO FART. 183 
 
 tests and loathes cowardice. Dr. Grey, I could not rest quietly 
 in my coflSn if she is left alone in this dreary house, after I 
 am carried to ray long home. Will you stay here awhile, or 
 take her to your house, — at least for a short time ? " 
 
 " I will, at all events, promise to comply with your wishes 
 as fully as she will permit. But recollect that I am com- 
 paratively a stranger to her, and her haughty reception of me 
 the day I was compelled to come here on your account, does 
 not encourage me to presume in future. Eespect for her 
 wishes, however unreasonable, and respect- for myself, wouli 
 forbid an intrusion on my part." 
 
 "If you saw an utter stranger drowning, would fear ot 
 being considered presumptuous or impertinent, prevent your 
 trying to save him ? Your self-love should not hold you bark 
 from a Christian duty." 
 
 " And you may rest assured that it never shall, when I feel 
 that interference — no matter how unwelcome or ungraciously 
 received — will prove beneficial. But remember that your 
 mistress is eccentric and shrinking, and all efforts to befriend 
 her must be made very cautiously." 
 
 " True, doctor ; yet sometimes, instead of consulting her, it 
 is best to treat her as a wilful child. I believe you could 
 obtain some influence over her if you would only try to brea'c 
 the ice, because she. has spoken kindly of you several times 
 since I have been so helpless, and asked what she could do to 
 show her gratitude for your goodness to me. Yesterday she 
 said she intended to direct Eobert to take some fine fruit to 
 your house, and she remarked that your eyes were, in com- 
 parison with other folks', what Sabbath is to working week- 
 days, — were so full of rest, that tired anxious people might be 
 refreshed by looking at them. Sir, that is more than I have 
 heard her utter for seven years about anybody; and, therefore, 
 I think you might do her some good." 
 
 Dr. Grey shook his head, but remained silent ; and presently 
 Elsie touched his arm, and continued, — 
 
 " There is something I wish to say to you before I die, but 
 not now. I want you to promise me that when you see my end 
 
184 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 is indeed at hand, you will tell me in time to let me talk a 
 little to yon. Will you?" 
 
 "You may linger for months, and it is possible that you 
 may die quite suddenly; consequently, it might be impracti- 
 cable for me to fulfil the promise you require. Still, if I can 
 do so, I will certainly comply with your wishes. Would it not 
 be better to tell me at once what you desire me to know ? " 
 
 " While I live it is not necessary that any one should know, 
 and it is only when I am about to die that I shall speak to 
 you. For my sake, for humanity's sake, try to become ac- 
 quainted with my mistress and make her like you, as she 
 certainly will, if she only knows you." 
 
 A tap at the door interrupted the conversation, and soon 
 after, Dr. Grey quitted the sick-room. 
 
 He paused in the hall to examine a fine copy of Landseer's 
 " Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner," and, while he stood before 
 it, a large greyhound started up from the mat at the front 
 door, and bounded towards him. Simultaneously Mrs. 
 Gerome appeared at the threshold of the parlor. 
 
 " Come here, sir ! Poor fellow, come here ! " 
 
 The dog obeyed her instantly; and, pressing close to her, 
 looked up wistfully in her face. 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Gerome. I must thank you for com- 
 ing so promptly to my assistance. I have never seen this dog 
 until to-day, and, consequently, was not on my gu^rd." 
 
 " He arrived only yesterday, and is so overjoyed to be with 
 me once more that he allows no one else to approach." 
 
 "He is by far the handsomest dog I have ever seen in 
 America." 
 
 "Yes, I had great difficulty in obtaining him. My agent 
 assures me that he belongs to the best that are reared in the 
 tribe of Beni Lam; and that he is a genuine Arab, there can 
 be no doubt." 
 
 " How long have you owned him? " 
 
 " Two years. Unfortunately he was bitten by a snake one 
 day while wandering with me among the ruins at Paestum, and 
 was so singularly affected that I was forced to leave him at 
 Naples. Various causes combined to delay his restoration t« 
 
~ VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 185 
 
 me until last week, when he crossed the Atlantic ; and yester- 
 day he went into ecstasies when I received him from the ex- 
 press agent. Hush! no growling! Down, sir! Take care. 
 Dr. Grey; he will bear no hand but mine, and it is rather 
 dangerous to caress him, as you may judge from the fangs he 
 is showing you." 
 
 The dog was remarkably tall, silky, beautifully formed, 
 and of a soft mole-color ; and around his neck a collar formed 
 of four small silver chains, bore an oval silver plate on which 
 was engraved in German text, " Ich Dien — Agla Gerome." 
 
 "I congratulate you upon the possession of such a treas- 
 ure," said the visitor, with unfeigned admiration, — as, with 
 the eye of a connoisseur, he noted the fine points about the 
 sleek, slim animal, who eyed him suspiciously. 
 
 "Thank you. How is Elsie to-day?" 
 
 " More nervous than I have seen her since the accident, and 
 some of her symptoms are rather discouraging, though there 
 is no immediate danger. Do not look so hopeless ; she may be 
 spared to you for many months." 
 
 " Why will you not let me hope that she may ultimately 
 recover ? " 
 
 " Because it is utterly futile, and I have no desire to deceive 
 you, even for an instant. Good morning, Eobert." 
 
 The gardener approached with a large basket filled with 
 peaches and nectarines, and, taking off his hat, bowed pro- 
 foundly. 
 
 "My mistress ordered these placed in your buggy, as I 
 believe our nectarines ripen earlier than any others in the 
 neighborhood." 
 
 " Thank you, Maclean. Mrs. Gerome is exceedingly kind, 
 and I have an invalid sister who wiU enjoy this beautiful 
 fruit. Those nectarines would not disgrace Smyrna or Da- 
 mascus, and are the first of the season." 
 
 Eobert passed through the hall, bearing the basket to the 
 buggy; and at that instant there was a startling crash, as of 
 some heavy article falling in the parlor. The dog sprang up 
 with a howl, and Dr. Grey followed Mrs. Gerome into the 
 room to ascertain the cause of the noise. A glance suflBced 
 
186 VNTIL DEATH US DO FART. 
 
 to explain that a picture in a heavy frame had fallen from a 
 hook above the mantel-piece, and in its descent overturned 
 some tall vases, which novir lay shattered on the hearth. Dr. 
 Grey lifted the painting from the rubbish, and, as he turned 
 the canvas towards the light, Mrs. Gerome said, — 
 
 "' Une tristesse implacable, une effroyable fataliU pese sw 
 I'oiuvre de I'artiste. Cela ressemhle a une malediction amere, 
 lancee sur le sort de I'humanite.' There is, indeed, some 
 fatality about that copy of Durer's * Knight, Death, and the 
 Devil,' which seems really ill-omened, for this is the second 
 time it has fallen. Thank you, sir. The frame only is in- 
 jured, and I will not trouble you to remove it. Let it lean 
 against the grate, until I have it rehung more securely." 
 
 " It is too grim a picture for these walls, and stares at its 
 companions like the mummy at Egyptian banquets." 
 
 " On the contrary, it impresses teie as grotesque in com- 
 parison with Durer's ' Melancholy,' yonder, or with Holbein's 
 ' Les Simulachres de la mort.' " 
 
 " Durer's figure of ' Melancholy' has never satisfied me, and 
 there is more ferocity than sadness in the countenance, which 
 would serve quite as well for one of the Erinney hunting 
 Orestes, even in the adytum at Delphi. The face is more 
 sinister than sorrowful." 
 
 " Since your opinion of that picture coincides so entirely 
 with mine, tell me whether I have successfully grasped 
 Coleridge's dim ideal." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome drew from a corner of the rear room an easel 
 containing a finished but unframed picture; and, gathering 
 up the lace curtain drooping before the arch, she held the 
 folds aside, to allow the light to fall full on the canvas. 
 
 "Before you examine it, recall the description that sug- 
 gested it." 
 
 "I am sorry to say that my recollection of the passage is 
 exceedingly vague and unsatisfactory. Will you oblige me by 
 repeating it ? " 
 
 "Excuse me; your hand is resting upon the book, which 
 is open at the fragment." 
 
 Dr. Grey bowed, and, lifting the volume from the table 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 187 
 
 glanced rapidly over the lines designated, then turned to the 
 picture, where, indeed, 
 
 " Stretched on a mouldering abbey's broadest wall, 
 
 Where ruining ivies propped the ruins steep, 
 Her folded arms wrapping her tattered pall, 
 
 Had Melanciioly mused herself to sleep. 
 The fern was pressed beneath her hair, 
 The dark green adder's tongue was there ; 
 And still as past the flagging sea-gale weak. 
 The long, lank leaf bowed fluttering o'er her cheek. 
 
 That pallid cheek was flushed ; her eager look 
 Beamed eloquent in slumber ! Inly wrought, 
 
 Imperfect sounds her moving lips forsook, 
 And her bent forehead worked with troubled thought." 
 
 The beautiful face of the reclining figure was dreamily 
 hopeless and dejected, yet pathetically patient; and, in the 
 strange amber light reflected from a sunset sea, the fringy 
 shadow of a cluster of fern-leaves seemed to quiver over the 
 pale brow and still mouth, and floating raven hair, where the 
 green snake glided with crest erect and forked tongue within 
 an inch of one delicate, pearly ear. The gray stones of the 
 lichen-spotted wall, the graceful sweep of the shrouding drab 
 drapery, whose folds clung to the form and thence swung 
 down from the edge of the rocky battlement, the mouldering 
 ruins leaning against the quiet sky in the rear, and the glassy 
 stretch of topaz-tinted sea in the foreground, were all painted 
 with pre-Eaphaelite exactness and verisimilitude, and every 
 detail attested the careful, tender study, with which the pic- 
 ture had been elaborated. 
 
 Was it by accident or design that the woman on the painted 
 wall bore a vague, mournful resemblance to the- owner and 
 creator ? Dr. Grey glanced from Durer's " Melancholy " to 
 the canvas on the easel; then his fascinated eyes dwelt on 
 the dainty features of the artist, and he thought involuntarily 
 of another Coleridgean image, — of the " pilgrim in whom the 
 spring and the autumn, and the melancholy of both, seemed to 
 have combined." 
 
188 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, in this wonderful embodiment of Cole- 
 ridge's fragmentary ideal you have painted your own por- 
 trait." 
 
 " No, sir. Look again. My ' Melancholia ' has a patient 
 face, hinting of possible peace. When I design its companion, 
 ' Desolation,' I may be pardoned if my canvas reflects what 
 always fronts it." 
 
 " May I ask when you wrought out this extraordinary con- 
 ception ? " 
 
 " During the past month. The last touch was given this' 
 morning, and the paint is not yet dry on that cluster of 
 purplish seaweed clinging to the base of the battlement. Last 
 night I dreamed that Coleridge stood looking over my shoulder 
 and while I worked he touched the sea, and it flushed a ruby 
 red brighter than laudanum; and then he leaned down, 
 and with a. pencil wrote Dele across the fragment in his 
 Sibylline Leaves.' To-day I tried the effect of the hint, but 
 the amber water mellows the woman's features, and the ruby 
 light rendered them sullen and rigid." 
 
 " Were I to judge from the lizarre themes that you select, 
 I should be tempted to fear that the wizard spell of opium 
 evoked some of these strangely beautiful creations of your 
 brush. What suggested this picture ? " 
 
 "You merely wish to complete your diagnosis of my 
 psychological condition? If so, there is no reason why I 
 should hesitate to tell you that while I was playing one of 
 Chopin's Nocturnes the significance of the Polish * Zdl ' per- 
 plexed me. In striving to analyze it, Coleridge's 'Melan- 
 choly ' occurred to my mind, and teased and haunted me until 
 I wrought it out palpably. My work there means more than 
 his fragment, and includes something which 1 suppose Chopin 
 meant by that insynonymous word ' Zal^ " 
 
 Standing under the arch, with one hand holding back the 
 lace drapery, the other hanging nerveless at her side, she 
 looked as weird as any of her ideal creations; and, in the 
 greenish seashine breaking through the dense foliage of the 
 trees about the house, her wan face, snowy muslin dress, and 
 floating white ribbons, seemed unsubstantial as the figures on 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 189 
 
 the wall. To-day there was no spot of color in face or dress, 
 save the azure gleam of the large, brilliant ring, on her up- 
 lifted hand; and, as Dr. Grey scrutinized her appearance, he 
 found it difficult to realize that blood pulsed in that marble 
 flesh, and warm breath fluttered in that iirm, frigid mouth. 
 Glancing around the rooms, he said, — 
 
 " Solitude is indeed a misnomer for a home peopled with 
 such creations as adorn these walls." 
 
 "No. Have you forgotten the definition of Epictetus? 
 ' To be friendless is solitude.' " 
 
 " I hope, madam, that you may never find yourself in that 
 unfortunate category, and certainly there are — " 
 
 " Sir, I know what Michael Angelo felt when he wrote from 
 Rome, ' I have no friends ; I need none.' " 
 
 She interrupted him with an indescribably haughty gesture, 
 and an anomalous spasm of the lips that belonged to no 
 known class of smiles. 
 
 " On the contrary, Mrs. Gerome, the hunger for true friends 
 has rendered you morose and cynical." 
 
 He did not shrink from the wide eyes that flashed like 
 blue steel in. moonshine; and as his own, calm, steady, and 
 magnetic, dwelt gravely on her face, he fancied she winced, 
 slightly. 
 
 " No, sir. When I hunt or recognize friends, I shall 
 borrow Diogenes' lantern. Good morning. Dr. Grey." 
 
 " Pardon me if I detain you for a moment to inquire who 
 taught you to paint." 
 
 " The absolute necessity of self-forgetfulness." 
 
 " But you surely had some tuition in the art ? " 
 
 "Yes; I had the usual boarding-school privilege of a 
 master for perspective, and pastel. Dr. Grey, have you been 
 to Europe?" 
 
 "Yes, madam; on several occasions." 
 
 " You visited Dresden? " 
 
 "Idid." 
 
 " Step forward a little, — there. Now, sir, do you know 
 that painting hanging over my escritoire ? " 
 
 "It is Euysdael's 'Churchyard,' and, from this distance. 
 
190 UNTIL DEATH US BO PART. 
 
 seems a remarkably fine copy of that sombre, desolate, ghoul- 
 haunted picture." 
 
 " Thank you. That is the only piece of work of which I 
 feel really proud. Some day, when the light is pure and 
 strong, come in and examine it. Now there is a greenish 
 tinge over all things in the room thrown by sea-shimmer 
 through the clustering leaves. Ah, what a long, low, pre- 
 sageful moan that was, which broke from foaming, lips, oa 
 yonder strand ! " 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Gerome. The inspection of your 
 pictures has yielded me so much pleasure that I must tender 
 you my very sincere thanks for your courtesy." 
 
 She bowed distantly; and, when he reached his buggy, he 
 glanced back and saw that perfect, pallid face, pressed against 
 the cedar facing of the oriel, looking seaward. He lifted his 
 hat, but she did not observe the salute ; and, as he drove away, 
 she kept her eyes upon the murmuring waves, and repeated, 
 as was her habit, the lines that chanced to present them- 
 selves, — 
 
 " Listen ! you hear the solemn roar 
 Begin, and cease, and then again begin, 
 With tremulous cadence, slow, and bring 
 The eternal note of sadness in. 
 Sophocles, long ago. 
 Heard it on the Mge&n, and it brought 
 Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow 
 Of human misery." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Miss Dexter, where is Muriel ? " asked Dr. Grey, 
 glancing around the library, where the governess sat sewing, 
 while Salome read aloud a passage in Ariosto. 
 
 " She is not very well, and went up stairs, two hours ago, 
 to rest. Do you wish to see her immediately ? " 
 
 "Yes. Call her down." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 191 
 
 Wlien the teacher left the room, Dr. Grey approached the 
 table where Salome sat, and looked over her shoulder. 
 
 " I went to the Asylum to-day, and found little Jessie 
 very well, but quite dissatisfied because you visit her so rarely. 
 You should see her as often as possible, since she is so depen- 
 dent upon you for sympathy and affection." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Miss Dexter gives a flattering report of your aptitude for 
 acquiring languages, and assures me that you will soon speak 
 Italian fluently." 
 
 "Miss Dexter doubtless believes that praise of a pupil 
 reflects credit on the skill of the teacher. Unfortunately for 
 her flattering estimate of me, I must disclaim all polyglot 
 proclivities, and have no intention of eclipsing Mezzofanti, 
 Max Muller, or Giovanni Pico Mirandola. I needed, for a 
 special purpose, a limited acquaintance with Italian ; and, as I 
 have attained what I desired, I shall not trouble myself much 
 loliger with dictionaries and grammars." 
 
 " And that special purpose — " 
 
 " Concerns nobody else, consequently I keep it to myself." 
 
 He turned from her and advanced to meet his ward, who 
 came rapidly forward, holding out both hands. 
 
 "Doctor, where have you been all day? I did not see 
 you at breakfast or dinner, and it seems quite an age since 
 yesterday afternoon. You see I am moping, horribly." 
 
 " My dear child, I see you are looking pale and weary, which 
 is overt and unpardonable treason. I sent for you to ask if 
 it would be agreeable to you to walk, or drive with me." 
 
 " Certainly, — either or both." 
 
 She had placed her hands in his, and stood looking up 
 joyfully into his quiet countenance. 
 
 "Get your hat, while I order my buggy brought to the 
 door." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear doctor. The very thing I longed 
 for, as I noticed you riding up the avenue. I never saw 
 you on horseback until to-day. It is a delightful evening 
 for a drive." 
 
 She gaily svning his hands, like a gratified child, and 
 
192 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. ''■ 
 
 started off for her hat, but, ere she crossed the threshold, 
 turned back, and, walking up to her guardian, laid her arm on 
 his shoulder and whispered something. 
 
 He laughed, and put his hand under her chin, saying, as he 
 did so, — 
 
 •' Little witch ! How did you know it ? " 
 
 Her reply was audible only to the ears for which it was 
 framed, and she darted away, evidently much happier than 
 she had seemed for many days. 
 
 While awaiting her return. Dr. Grey picked up her sketch- 
 book, and was examining the contents, when Salome rose and 
 hurried towards the door. As she passed him, his back was 
 turned, and her muslin dress swept within reach of his spur, 
 which caught the delicate fabric. She impatiently jerked 
 the dress to disengage it, but it clung to the steel points, and 
 a long rent was made in the muslin. With a half-smothered 
 ejaculation, she tried to wrench herself free, but the dress 
 only tore across the breadth from seam to seam. Dr. Grey 
 turned, and stooped to assist her. 
 
 "Wait an instant, Salome; you have almost ruined your 
 dress." 
 
 He was endeavoring to disentangle the shreds from the 
 jagged edge of the spur, but she bent down, and, seizing the 
 skirt in both hands, tore it away, leaving a large fragment 
 trailing from the boot-heel. 
 
 " ' More haste, less speed.' Patience is better than petu- 
 lance, my young friend." 
 
 His grave, reproving voice, rendered her defiant; and, with 
 a forced, unnatural laugh, she bowed, and hurried away, 
 saying, as she looked over her shoulder, — 
 
 "And spurs than persuasion? You mistake my nature." 
 
 Dr. Grey had been riding, all the morning, across a broken 
 stretch of country, where the roads were exceedingly insecure, 
 and, as he removed the troublesome spur and laid it on the 
 mantel-piece, he folded up the strip of muslin and put it into 
 his pocket. 
 
 " I am waiting for jonf cried Muriel, from the hall door. 
 
 He sighed, and went to his buggy; but the cloud did not 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 19S 
 
 melt from hie brow, for, as he drove off, he noticed Salome's 
 gleaming eyes peering from the window of her room; and 
 pity and pain mingled in the emotions with which he recalled 
 his sister's warning words. 
 
 " Muriel, here is your letter, and, better still, Gerard will 
 be with us to-morrow. Diplomatic affairs brought him 
 temporarily to Washington, and he will spend next week with 
 us. I cordially congratulate you, my dear child, and hastened 
 home to bring you the good news, which I felt assured you 
 would prefer to receive without witnesses." 
 
 Muriel's blushing face was bent over her letter; but she 
 put her hand on her guardian's, and pressed it vigorously. 
 
 " A thousand thanks for all your goodness ! Gerard writes 
 that it was through your influence he was enabled to visit 
 Washington; and, indeed, dear Dr. Grey, we are both very 
 grateful for your kind interest in our happiness. Even poor 
 papa could not be more considerate." 
 
 "For several days past I have observed that you were 
 unusually depressed, and that Miss Dexter looked constrained. 
 Are you not pleasantly situated in my sister's house. Do not 
 hesitate to speak frankly." 
 
 Muriel's eyes filled with tears, and she answered, eva- 
 sively, — 
 
 " Miss Jane is very kind and affectionate." 
 
 " Which means that Salome is not." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, why does she dislike me so seriously ? I have 
 tried to be friendly and cordial towards her; but she con- 
 stantly repels me. I really admire her very much; but I am 
 afraid she positively hates me." 
 
 " No, that is impossible ; but she is a very peculiar, and, I 
 am sorry to be forced to say, an unamiable girl, and is 
 governed by every idle caprice. I hope that you will not 
 allow yourself to be annoyed by any want of courtesy which 
 she may unfortunately have displayed. Although a member 
 of the household, Salome has no right to dispense or to with- 
 hold the hospitalities of my sister's home, or to insult her 
 guests; and I trust that her individual whims will have no 
 effect whatever upon you, unless they create a feeling of com- 
 13 
 
194 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 passion and toleration in your kind heart. She has some 
 good traits hidden under her hrusquerie, and when you know 
 her better you will excuse her rudeness." 
 
 "Why is she so moody? I have not seen a pleasant smile 
 on her face since I came here." 
 
 " My dear child, let us select some more agreeable topic 
 for discussion. Gerard will probably arrive on the early 
 train, which will enable him to breakfast with us to-morrow. 
 He will endeavor to persuade you to return at once to 
 Europe ; but I must tell you, in advance of his proposal, that 
 I hope you will not yield to his wishes, since it would grieve 
 me to part with you so soon." 
 
 Muriel turned aside her head to avoid her guardian's pene- 
 trating gaze, and silently listened to his counsel concerning 
 the course she should pursue towards her betrothed. 
 
 For a year they had been affianced without the knowledge 
 of her father, from whom she had been separated; but the 
 frankness with which both had discussed the matter with Dr. 
 Grey forbade the possibility of his withholding his approba- 
 tion of the engagement; though he assured them he could 
 not consent to its speedy consummation, as Muriel was too 
 young and childish to appreciate the grave responsibility of 
 such a step. Gerard Granvill« was several years older than 
 his betrothed, and Dr. Grey had been astonished at his 
 choice; but a long and intimate acquaintance led him to es- 
 teem the young man so highly, that, while he felt that Muriel 
 was far inferior, he strove to stimulate her ambition, and 
 hoped she would one day be fully worthy of him. 
 
 To-day Dr. Grey drove for an hour through quiet, unfre- 
 quented country roads; and finally, when Muriel expressed 
 herself anxious to catch a glimpse of the' sea and a breath 
 of its brine, he turned into a narrow track that led down to 
 «ome fishermen's huts on the beach. 
 
 While they paused on the edge of the low, yellow strand, 
 and inhaled the fresh ocean air. Dr. Grey grew silent, and 
 his companion fell into a blissful reverie relative to to- 
 morrow's events. Suddenly he placed his hand on her arm, 
 and said, " Listen ! What a wonderfully sweet, flexible voice I 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 19a 
 
 Surely, fishermen's wives are not singing Mendelssohn's com- 
 positions ? Did you hear that gush of melody ? It comes not 
 from that house, but seems floating from the opposite direc- 
 tion. Such strains almost revive one's faith in the Hindoo 
 Gandharvas, — musical genii, filling the air with ravishing 
 sounds. There ! is it not exquisite ? Hold these reins while 
 I ascertain who owns that marvellous voice." 
 
 Eager and curious as a boy, he sprang from the buggy, 
 and, following the bend of the beach, passed two small 
 deserted huts, and plunged into a grove of stunted trees, 
 whence issued the sound that attracted his attention. Ere 
 he had proceeded many yards he saw a woman sitting on a 
 bank of sand and oyster-shells, and singing from an open 
 sheet of music, while she made rapid gestures with one hand. 
 Her face was turned from him, but, as he cautiously ap- 
 proached, the pose of the figure, the noble contour of the head 
 and neck, and a certain muslin dress which matched the strip 
 in his pocket, made his heart beat violently. Intent only on 
 solving the mystery, he stepped softly towards her; but just 
 then a brace of plover started up at his feet, and, as they 
 whirred away, the woman turned her head, and he found 
 himself face to face with his musician. 
 
 "Salome!" 
 
 " Well, Dr. Grey." 
 
 She had risen, and a beautiful glow overspread her cheeks, 
 as she met his eyes. 
 
 " What brings you to this lonely spot, three miles from 
 home, when the sun has already gone down ? " 
 
 "Have I not as unquestionable a right to walk alone to 
 the seaside as you to drive your ward whithersoever you list ? 
 Poverty, as well as wealth, sometimes makes people strangely 
 independent. What have you done with Miss Muriel Man- 
 ton?" 
 
 There was such a sparkle in her eyes, such a bright flush 
 on her polished cheeks and parted lips, that Dr. Grey won- 
 dered at her beauty, which had never before impressed him 
 as so extraordinary. 
 
196 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Salome, why have you concealed your musical gift from 
 me ? Who taught you to sing ? " 
 
 " I am teaching myself, with such poor aid as I can obtain 
 from that miserable vagabond, Barilli, who is generally 
 intoxicated three days out of every six. Did you expect to 
 find Heine's yellow-haired Loreley, or a treacherous Ligeia, 
 sitting on a rock, wooing passers-by to speedy destruction ? " 
 
 " I certainly did not expect to meet my friend Salome alone 
 at, this hour and place. Child, do not trifle with me, — ^be 
 truthful. Did you come here to meet any one ? " 
 
 " One never knows what may or may not happen. I came 
 here to practise my music lesson, sans auditors, and I meet 
 Dr. Grey, — the last person I expected or desired to see." 
 
 He came a step nearer, and put his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 " Salome, you distress and perplex me. My child, are you 
 better or worse than I think you ? " 
 
 She lifted her slender hand and laid it lightly on his, which 
 still rested upon her shoulder. 
 
 " I am both, — better and worse. Better in aim than you 
 believe; worse in execution than you could realize, even if I 
 confessed all, which I have not the slightest intention of 
 doing. Ah, Dr. Grey, if you read me thoroughly, you would 
 not be surprised, or consider it presumptuous that I some- 
 times think I am that anomalous creature, whom Balzac de- 
 fined as * Angel through love, demon through fantasy, child 
 through faith, sage through experience, man through the 
 brain, woman through the heart, giant through hope, and 
 poet through dreams.'" 
 
 As Dr. Grey looked down into the splendid eyes, softened 
 and magnified by a crystal veil of unshed tears, he sighed, 
 and answered, — 
 
 "You are, indeed, a bundle of contradictions. Why have 
 you so sedulously concealed the existence of your fine voice; 
 which the majority of girls would have been eager to ex- 
 hibit?" 
 
 " It was not lack of vanity, but excess, that prompted me 
 to keep you in ignorance, until I could astonish you by its 
 
UNTIL DEATH DS DO PART. 19? 
 
 perfection. You have anticipated me only by a few days, 
 and I intended singing for you next week." 
 
 "It is not prudent for you to venture so far from home, 
 «specially at this hour." 
 
 " We paupers are not so fastidious as our lucky superiors, 
 and cannot afford timid airs, and affectation of extreme 
 nervousness. Having no escort, and expecting none, I walk 
 alone in any direction I choose, with what fearlessness and 
 contentment I find myself able to command." 
 
 " It will be dark before you can reach the public road." 
 
 " No, sir ; there is a young moon swinging above the tree- 
 tops, to light me on my lonesome ramble ; and I come here so 
 often that even the rabbits and whippoorwills know me. 
 Where is Miss Muriel ? " 
 
 " Waiting in the buggy, on the beach. I must go back to 
 her."' 
 
 " Yes. Pray do not delay an instant, or she will imagine 
 that some dire calamity has befallen her knight, who, in 
 hunting a siren, encountered Scylla or Charybdis. Good 
 evening. Dr. Grey." 
 
 " I am unwilling to leave you here so unprotected. Come 
 and ride with Muriel, and I will walk beside the buggy. My 
 horse is so gentle that a child can guide him." 
 
 " Thank you. Not for a ten-acre lot in Mohammed's 
 Paradise would I mar Miss Muriel's happiness, or punish 
 myself by a tete-a-tete with her. It would be positively ' dis- 
 courteous' in me to accept your proposal; and, moreover, I 
 abhor division, — tout ou rien." 
 
 " Wilful, silly child ! It is not proper for you to wander 
 along that dreary road in the dark. Come with me." 
 
 " Not I. Make yourself easy by recollecting that ' naught 
 is never in danger.' See yonder in the west, — 
 
 ' Where, lo I above the sandy sunset rose 
 The silver sickle of the green-gowned witch." 
 
 She laughed lightly, derisively, and collected the sheets of 
 music scattered on the bank. 
 
198 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAR'l: 
 
 Silently Dr. Grey returned to his ward, who exclaimed, ai 
 sight of him, — 
 
 " I am glad to see you again, for you stayed so long I was 
 growing frightened. Did you find the singer ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What is the matter ? You look troubled and solemn." 
 
 "I am merely annoyed by circumstances beyond my con- 
 'trol. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, who was that sweet singer ? " 
 
 " Salome Owen." 
 
 " How can such a thing be possible, when I have never 
 heard a note f roni her lips ? You told me she had no musical 
 talent." 
 
 "I was not aware that she sang at all, until this after- 
 noon, and youi- surprise does not equal mine." 
 
 " Where did jou find her ? " 
 
 " Sitting on a mound of sand, singing to the sea." 
 
 "Who is with her?" 
 
 " No one. I requested her to come with us, and offered to 
 walk besidtt my buggy; but she declined. Please be so con- 
 siderate as to say nothing about this occurrence, when you 
 reach home ; because animadversion only hardens that poor 
 girl in her whimsical ways. Now we will dismiss the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 Muriel endeavored to render herself an agreeable com- 
 panion during the r«mainder of the drive ; but her guardian, 
 despite his efforts to become interested in her conversation, 
 was evidently distrait, and both felt relieved when they 
 reached Grassmere, wliere Miss Jane and the governess wel- 
 comed their return. 
 
 Dr Grey dismissed iiis buggy and entered the hall; but 
 passed through the house, and, crossing the orchard, followed 
 the road leading seaward. 
 
 Only a few summer st'irs were sprinkling their silvery rays 
 over the gray gloom of twilight, and the shining crescent in 
 the violet west had slipped down behind the silent hills that 
 girded the rough, winding road. 
 
 Wlien Salome put her Jijigers on the gloved hand which. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 199 
 
 in the surprise of their unexpected meeting, Dr. Grey had 
 involuntarily placed on her shoulder, she had felt that he 
 shrank instantly from her touch, and withdrew his hand 
 hastilj', as if displeased with the familiarity of the action. 
 All the turbid elements in her nature boiled up. Could it 
 be possible that he really loved his rosy-faced, bright-eyed, 
 prattling ward ? She set this conjecture squarely before her, 
 and forced herself to contemplate it. If he desired to marry 
 Muriel, of course he would do so whenever he chose, and the 
 thought that he might call her his wife, and give her his 
 name, his caresses, wrung a cry of agony from Salome's lips. 
 She threw herself on the sand-bank, and, resting her chin on 
 her folded arms, gazed vacantly across the yellow strand at 
 the glassy, leaden sea that stared back mockingly at her. 
 
 She was too miserable to feel afraid of anything but Dr. 
 Grey's marriage ; and, moreover, she had so often, during the 
 early years of her life, gone to and fro in the darkness, that 
 she was a stranger to that timidity which girls usually in- 
 dulge under similar circumstances. The fishermen had 
 abandoned the neighboring huts some months before, and 
 " Solitude," one mile distant, was the nearest spot occupied 
 by human beings. 
 
 She neither realized nor cared that it was growing darker, 
 and, after awhile, when the sea was no longer visible thxough 
 the dun haze that brooded over it, she shut her eyes and 
 moaned. 
 
 Dr. Grey had walked on, hoping every moment to meet her 
 returning home; and, more than once, he was tempted to 
 retrace his steps, thinking that she might have taken some 
 direct path across the hills, instead of the circuitous one 
 bending around their base. Quickening his pace till it 
 matched his pulse, which an indefinable anxiety accelerated, 
 he finally saw the huts dimly outlined against the starry sky 
 and quiet sea. 
 
 Pausing, he took off his hat to listen to 
 
 " The -water la.pping on the crag. 
 And the long ripple washing in the reeds," 
 
200 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and, while he stood wiping his brow, there came across the 
 beach, — 
 
 " A cry that shivered to the tingling stars. 
 And, as it were one voice, an agony 
 Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills 
 All night in a waste land, where no one comes. 
 Or hath come since the making of the world." 
 
 In the uncertain light he ran towards the clump of trees 
 where he had left Salome, and strained his eyes to discover 
 some moving thing. He knew that he must be very near the 
 spot, but neither the expected sound nor object greeted him, 
 and, while he stopped and held his breath to listen, the 
 silence was profound and death-like. He was opening his 
 lips to call the girl's name, when he fancied he saw some- 
 thing move slightly, and simultaneously a human voice smote 
 the oppressive stillness. She was very near him, and he heard 
 her saying to herself, with mournful emphasis, — 
 
 " Have I brought Joy, and slain her at his feet ? 
 
 Have I brought Peace, for his cold kiss to kill? 
 Have I brought youth, crowned with wild-flowers sweet, 
 
 With sandals dewy from a morning hill, 
 
 For his gray, solemn eyes, to fright and chill ? 
 Have I brought Scorn the pale, and Hope the fleet, 
 And Firet Love, in her lily winding-sheet,— 
 
 And is he pitiless still ? " 
 
 Dr. Grey knew now that she was not crying. Her hard, 
 ringing, bitter tone, forbade all thought of sobs or tears ; but 
 his heart ached as he listened, and surmised the application 
 she was making of the melancholy lines. 
 
 Unwilling that she should know he had overheard her, he 
 waited a moment, then raised his voice and shouted, — 
 
 " Salome ! Salome ! Where are you ? " 
 
 There was no answer, and, fearing that she might elude 
 him, he stretched out his arms, and advanced to the spot, 
 which he felt assured was only a few yards distant. 
 
 She had risen, and, standing in the gloom of the coming 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 201 
 
 night, deepened by the interlaeing boughs above her, she felt 
 Dr. Grey's hand on her dress, then on her head, where the 
 moisture hung heavily in her thick hair. 
 
 " Salome, why do you not answer me ? " 
 
 Shame kept her silent. 
 
 He passed his hand over her hot face, then groped for her 
 fingers, which he grasped firmly in his. 
 
 " Come home with your best friend." 
 
 He knew that she was in no mood to submit to reprimand, 
 to appreciate argument, or even to listen to entreaty, and 
 that he might as profitably undertake to knead pig-iron as 
 expostulate with her at this juncture. 
 
 For a mile they walked on without uttering a word; then 
 he felt the fingers relax, twitch, and twine closely around his 
 own. 
 
 "Dr. Grey, where is Muriel? Where is your buggy?" 
 
 "Both are at home, where others should have been, long 
 ago." 
 
 " You walked back to meet me ? " 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " How did you find me, in the dark ? " 
 
 " I heard your voice." 
 
 "But not the words?" 
 
 " Why ? Are you ashamed for me to hear what any stroll- 
 ing stranger, any unscrupulous vagabond, might have listened 
 to?" 
 
 " It is such a desolate, lonely place, I thought no one would 
 stumble upon me, and I have been there so often without 
 meeting a Uving thing except the crabs and plover." 
 
 " You are no longer a child, and such rashness is altogether 
 unpardonable. What do you suppose my sister would think 
 of your imprudent obstinacy ? " 
 
 They walked another mile, and again Salome convulsively 
 pressed the cool, steady, strong hand, in which hers lay hot 
 and quivering. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, tell me the truth, — don't torture me." 
 
 " What shall I teU you ? You torture yourself." 
 
 " Did you hear what I was saying to my own heart? " 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 " I heard you repeating some lines which certainly should 
 possess no relevancy for the real feeling of my young friend." 
 
 She snatched her fingers from his, and he knew she covered 
 her face with them. 
 
 They reached the gate at the end of the avenue, and Salome 
 stopped suddenly, as the lights from the front windows flashed 
 out on the lawn. 
 
 " Go in, and leave me." 
 
 She threw herself on the sward, under one of the elm-trees, 
 and leaned her head against its trunk. 
 
 "I shall do no such thing, unless you desire the entire 
 household to comment upon your reckless conduct." 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Grey, I care little now what the whole world 
 thinks or says ! Let me be quiet, or I shall, go mad." 
 
 " No ; come into the house, and sing something to com- 
 pensate me for the anxiety and fatigue you have cost me. I 
 do not often ask a favor of you, and certainly in this instance 
 you will not refuse to grant my request." 
 
 She did not reply, and he bent down and softly stroked 
 the hair that was damp with dew and sea-fog. 
 
 The long-pent storm broke in convulsive sobs, and she 
 trembled from head to foot, while tears poured over her 
 burning cheeks. 
 
 " Poor child ! Can you not confide in me ? " 
 
 "Dr. Grey, will you forget all that has passed to-day? 
 Will you try never to think of it again ? " 
 
 " On condition that you never repeat the offence." 
 
 " You do not despise me ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 "You pity me? " 
 
 " I pity any human being who is so unfortunate as to 
 possess your wilful, perverse, passionate disposition. Unless 
 you overcome this dangerous tendency of character, you may 
 expect only wretchedness and humiliation in coming years. 
 I am sincerely sorry for you, but I tell you unhesitatingly, 
 that I find it difficult to tolerate your grave and obtrusive 
 faults." 
 
 She raised her clasped hands, and said, brokenly, — 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 203 
 
 " This is the last time I shall ever ask you to forgive me. 
 mil you?" 
 
 As freely and fully as a grieved brother ever forgave a 
 wayward sister." 
 
 He took the folded hands, lifted her from the grass, and 
 led her to a side door opening upon the east gallery. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, give me one kind word before I go." 
 
 The lamp-light from the hall shone full on his pale face, 
 which was sterner than she had ever seen it, as he forcibly 
 withdrew his hands from her tight clasp, and, putting her 
 away from him, said, very coldly, — 
 
 " I exhausted my store of kind thoughts and words when I 
 called you my sister." 
 
 He saw that she understood him, for she tried to hide her 
 face, but a spasm passed over it, and she would have fallen 
 had he not caught her in his arms and carried her up to her 
 own room. 
 
 Stanley was asleep with his head pillowed on his open 
 geography, but the candle burned beside him, and Dr. Grey 
 placed Salome on a lounge near the window, and sprinkled 
 her face with water. 
 
 Kneeling by the low couch, he rubbed her hands vigorously 
 with some cologne he found on her bureau; and, watching 
 her pale, beautiful features, his heart swelled with compas- 
 sion, and his calm eyes grew misty. Consciousness very soon 
 returned, and when she saw the noble, sorrowful countenance, 
 bent anxiously over her, she covered her face with her hands 
 and moaned rather than spoke, — 
 
 "I can't endure your pity. Leave me with my self-con- 
 tempt and degradation." 
 
 " My little sister, I leave you in God's merciful hands, and 
 trust you to the guidance of your womanly pride and self- 
 respect. Good-night. We will not engrave this unfortunate 
 day on our tablets, but forget its record, save one fact, that 
 for all time it makes me your brother ; and, Salome, — 
 
 " ' So we'll not dream, nor look back, dear. 
 But march right on, content and bold, 
 To where our life sets heavenly clear, — 
 Westward, behind the hills of gold.' " 
 
204. UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 Dr. Grey, who is that beautiful girl to whom Muriel in. 
 troduced me this morning ? I was so absorbed in admiration 
 of her face that I lost her name." 
 
 As he spoke, Mr. Gerard Granville struck the ashes from 
 his cigar, and walked up to the table where Dr. Grey was 
 sealing some letters. 
 
 " Her name is Salome Owen, and she is my sister's adopted 
 child." 
 
 " What is her age, if I may be pardoned such impertinent 
 queries ? " 
 
 " I believe she has entered her eighteenth year." 
 
 " She is a regal beauty, and shows proud blood as plainly 
 as any princess." 
 
 "Take care, Granville; imagination has cantered away 
 with your penetration. Salome's family were coarse ani? 
 common, though doubtless honest people. Her father was a 
 drunken miller, who died in an attack of delirium tremens, 
 and left his children as a legacy to the county. I merely 
 mention these deplorable facts to show you that your boasted 
 penetration is not entirely infallible." 
 
 " Miller or millionaire, — the girl would grace any court ih. 
 Europe, and only lacks a dash of aplomb to make her irre- 
 sistible. I have seen few faces that attracted and interested 
 me so powerfully." 
 
 " Yes, she certainly is very handsome ; but I do not agree 
 with you in thinking that she lacks aplomb. Granville, if 
 you have finished your cigar, we will adjourn to the parlor, 
 where the ladies are taking their tea." 
 
 Dr. Grey collected his letters and walked away, followed 
 by his guest; and, a moment after, a low, scornful laugh, 
 floated in through the window which opened on the little 
 flower-garden. 
 
 Miss Jane had requested Salome to gather the seeds of some 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 205 
 
 apple and nutmeg geraniums that were arranged on a shelf 
 near the western window of the library; and, while stooping 
 over the china jars, and screened from observation by a 
 spreading lilac-bush, the girl had heard the conversation rel- 
 ative to herself. 
 
 Excessive vanity had never been numbered among the 
 faults that marred her character, but Dr. Grey's indifference to 
 personal attractions, which strangers admitted so readily, 
 piqued, and thoroughly aroused a feeling that was destined 
 to bring countless errors and misfortunes in its train; and, 
 henceforth, — 
 
 " There was not a high thing out of beaven, 
 Her pride o'ermastereth not." 
 
 Hitherto the love of one man had been the only boon she 
 craved of heaven; but now, conscious that the darling hope 
 of her life was crushed and withering under Dr. Grey's 
 relentless feet, she resolved that the admiration of the world 
 should feed her insatiable hunger, — a maddening hunger 
 which one tender word from his true lips would have assuaged, 
 — ^but which she began to realize he would never utter. 
 
 During the last eighteen hours, a mournful change had 
 taken place in her heart, where womanly tenderness was 
 rapidly retreating before unwomanly hate, bitterness, and 
 blasphemous defiance; and she laughed scornfully at the 
 " idiocy " that led her to weary heaven with prayers for the 
 preservation of a life that must ever run as an asymptote to 
 her own. How earnestly she now lamented an escape, for 
 which she had formerly exhausted language in expressing 
 her gratitude; and how much better it would have been if 
 she could mourn him as dead,- instead of jealously watching 
 him, — living without a thought of her. 
 
 All the girlish sweetness and freshness of her nature 
 passed away, and an intolerable weariness and disappointment 
 usurped its place. Since her acquaintance with Dr. Grey, he 
 had been her sole Melek Taous, adored with Yezidi fervor; 
 but to-day she overturned, and strove to revile and desecrate 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the idol, to whose vacant pedestal she lifted a colossal vanity. 
 Hev bruised, numb heart, seemed incapable of loving any one, 
 or anything, and a hatred and contempt of her race took 
 possession of her. 
 
 The changing hues of Muriel's tell-tale face when Mr. 
 Granville arrived, and the excessive happiness that could not 
 be masked, had not escaped Salome's lynx vision; and very 
 accurately she conjectured the real condition of affairs, rel- 
 ative to which Dr. Grey had never uttered a syllable. Bent 
 upon mischief, she had, malice prepense, dressed herself 
 with unusual care, and arranged her hair in a new style of 
 coiffure, which proved very becoming. 
 
 Now, as the hum of conversation mingled with the sound 
 of Muriel's low, soft laugh, reached her from the parlor, her 
 chatoyant eyes kindled, and she hastily went in to join the 
 merry circle. 
 
 " Come here, child, and sit by me," said Miss Jane, making 
 room on the sofa, as her protegee entered. 
 
 *' Thank you, I prefer a seat near the window." 
 
 Dr. Grey sat in a large chair in the centre of the floor, with 
 Muriel on an ottoman close to him, and Mr. Granville leaned 
 over the back of the chair, while Miss Dexter shared Miss 
 Jane's old-fashioned ample sofa. In full view of thp whole 
 party, Salome seated herself at a little distance, and, with 
 admirably assumed nonchalance, began to enclose and sew 
 up the geranium-seeds, in some pretty, colored paper bags, 
 prepared for the purpose. 
 
 After a few minutes Mr. Granville sauntered across the 
 room, looked at the cuckoo clock, and finally went over to 
 the window, where he leaned against the facing and watched 
 Salome's slender white fingers. 
 «- She was dressed in a delicate muslin, striped with narrow 
 pink lines, and flounced at the bottom of the skirt, and wore 
 a ribbon sash of the same color; while in the broad braids 
 of hair raised high on her head, she had fastened a superb 
 half-blown Baron Provost rose, just where two loilg glossy 
 curls crept down. The puffed sleeves, scarcely reaching the 
 elbows, displayed the finely rounded white arms, and the exact» 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 207 
 
 ness with which the airy muslin fitted her form, showed its 
 symmetrical outline to the greatest advantage. 
 
 Muriel touched her guardian, and whispered, — 
 
 " Did you ever see Salome look so beautiful ? Her coiffure 
 to-night is almost Parisian, and how very becoming ! " 
 
 Dr. Grey was studying the innocent, happy countenance of 
 his unsuspecting ward, and he could not repress a sigh, when, 
 turning his eyes towards Salome, he noticed the undisguised 
 admiration in Mr. Granville's earnest gaze. 
 
 A nameless dread made him take Muriel's hand and lead 
 her to the piano. 
 
 " Play something for me. I am music-hungry." 
 
 " Is Saul sad to-night ? " she asked, smiling up at him. 
 
 "A little fatigued and perplexed, and anxious to have his 
 cares exorcised by the magic of your fingers." 
 
 With womanly tact she selected a fantasia which Mr. Gran- 
 ville had often pronounced the gem of her repertoire, and 
 momentarily expected to hear his whispered thanks ; but page 
 after page was turned, and still her lover did not approach 
 the piano, where Dr. Grey stood with folded arms and 
 slightly contracted brows. Muriel played brilliantly, and 
 was pardonably proud of her proficiency, which Mr. Granville 
 had confessed first attracted his attention ; and to-night, when 
 the piece was concluded and she commenced a Polonaise, she 
 looked over her shoulder hoping to meet a grateful, fond 
 glance. But his eyes were riveted on the fair rosy face at 
 his side, and his betrothed bit her pouting lip and made sun- 
 dry blunders. 
 
 As she rose from the piano-stool, Mr. Granville ex- 
 3laimed, — 
 
 " Miss Muriel, you love music so well that I trust you will 
 add your persuasions to mine, and induce Miss Owen to 
 sing for us, as she declares she is comparatively a tyro in 
 instrumental music, and would not venture to perform in 
 your presence." 
 
 " She has never sung for me, but I hope she will not refuse 
 your request. Salome, will you not ohlige us ? " 
 
208 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Muriel's eyes were flim with tears, but her sweet voice i'i 
 not falter. 
 
 " I was not aware that you sang at all," said Miss Dexter, 
 looking up from a mat which she was crocheting. 
 
 " She has a fine voice, but is very obstinate in declining to 
 use it. Come, Salome, don't be childish, dear. Sing som&- 
 thing," coaxed Miss Jane. 
 
 The girl waited a few seconds, hoping that another voice 
 would swell the general request, but the lips she loved best 
 were mute; and, suddenly tossing the paper bags from her 
 lap, she rose and moved proudly to the piano. 
 
 "Miss Manton, will you or Miss Dexter be so kind as to 
 play my accompaniment for me? I am neither Liszt, nor 
 Thalberg, and the vocal gymnastics are all that I can venture 
 to undertake." 
 
 Muriel promptly resumed her seat before the instrument, 
 and played the symphony of an aria from " Favorite," which 
 Salome placed on the piano-board. Barilli had assured her 
 that she rendered this fiery burst of rage and hatred as well 
 as he had ever heard it; and, folding her fingers tightly 
 around each other she drew herself up to her full height, and 
 sang it. 
 
 Mr. Granville leaned against the piano, and Dr. Grey was 
 standing in the recess of the window when the song began, 
 but ere long he moved forward unconsciously and paused, 
 with his hand on his ward's shoulder and his eyes riveted in 
 astonishment on Salome's countenance. She knew that the 
 approbation and delight of this small audience was worth all 
 the encore shouts of the millions who might possibly applaud 
 her in future years ; and if ever a woman's soul poured itself 
 out through her lips, all that was surging in Salome's heart 
 became visible to the man who listened as if spell-bound. 
 
 Miss Jane grasped her crutches, and rose, leaning upon 
 them, while a look of mingled joy and wonder made her sal- 
 low face eloquent ; and Miss Dexter dropped her ivory needle, 
 and gazed in amazement at the singer. Muriel forgot her 
 chords, — ^turned partially around, and watched in breathless 
 surprise the marvelous execution of several difficult pas- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 209 
 
 sages, where the rich voice seemed to linger while improvising 
 sparkling turns and trills that were strangely intricate, and 
 indescribably sweet. 
 
 As she approached the close of her song, Salome became 
 temporarily oblivious of pride, wounded vanity, and murdered 
 hopes, — forgot all but the man at her side, for whose com- 
 mendation she had toiled so patiently, and turning her 
 jflushed, radiant face, toward him, her magnificent eyes aflame 
 with triumph looked appealingly up at his, and her hands 
 were extended till they rested on his arm. 
 
 So the song ended, and for a moment the parlor was still 
 as a tomb. Dr. Grey silently enclosed the girl's two hands 
 in his, and, for the first time since she had known him, Salome 
 saw tears swimming in his grave, beautiful eyes, and noticed 
 a slight tremor on his usually steady lips. 
 
 " There is nothing in the old world or the new comparable 
 to that voice, and I fiatter myself I speak ex cathedra. Miss 
 Owen, you will soon have the public at your feet." 
 
 She did not heed Mr. Granville's enthusiastic eulogy. She 
 saw nothing but Dr. Grey's admiring eyes, — felt nothing but 
 the close warm clasp, in which Tier folded fingers lay, — ^and 
 her ears ached for the sound of his deep voice. 
 
 " Salome, I shall not soon forgive you for keeping me in 
 ignorance of the existence of the finest voice it has ever been 
 my good fortune 4o hear. Knowing your adopted brother's 
 fondness for music, how could you hoard your treasure so 
 parsimoniously, denying him such happiness as you might 
 have conferred ? " 
 
 He untwined her fingers, which clung tenaciously to his, 
 and saw that the blood ebbed out of cheeks and lips as she 
 listened to his carefully guarded language. Silently she 
 obeyed Miss Jane's summons to the sofa. 
 
 "You perverse witch! Where have you been practising 
 all these months, that have made you such a wonderful can- 
 tatrice? Child, answer me." 
 
 " I did not wish to annoy the household by thrumming on 
 the piano and aflSicting their ears with false flat scales, con- 
 sequently I followed the birds, and rehearsed with them, under 
 14 
 
210 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the trees, and down on the edge of the sea. If you like my 
 voice I am glad, because I have studied to perfect it." 
 
 " Like it, indeed ! As if I could avoid liking it ! But you 
 must have had good training. Who taught you ? " 
 
 " I took lessons from Barilli." 
 
 "Aha, — Ulpian! Now you can understand how he con- 
 trives to feed his family. Salome's sewing-money explains 
 it all. Kiss me, dear. I always believed there was more in 
 you than came to the surface." 
 
 "Miss Owen ought to go upon the stage. Such gifts as 
 hers belong to the public, who would soon crown her queeu 
 of song." 
 
 Salome glanced at the handsome stranger, and bowed. 
 
 " It is my purpose, sir, to dedicate myself and future to the 
 Opera, where I trust I shall not utterly fail, as I have been 
 for a year studying with reference to this step." 
 
 A bomb-shell falling in that quiet circle, would scarcely 
 have startled its members more eflfectually; and, anxious to 
 avoid comment, Salome quitted the parlor and ran out on the 
 lawn. 
 
 After awhile she heard Muriel's skilful touch on the piano, 
 and, when an hour had elapsed, the echo of voices died away, 
 and soon a profound silence seemed to reign over the house. 
 
 The hot blood was coursing thick and fast in her veins, 
 and evil purposes brooded darkly over her oppressed and 
 throbbing heart. She was thoroughly cognizant of the in- 
 tense admiration with which Mr. Granville regarded her, and 
 to-night she had compared his handsome face with thp older, 
 graver, and less regular features of Dr. Grey, and wondered 
 'why the latter was so much more fascinating. Her beauty 
 transcended Muriel's, and it would prove an easy task to 
 supplant her in the affections of her not very ardent lover. 
 Life in Paris, spiced with the political intrigues incident to 
 diplomatic circles, would divert her thoughts, and might 
 possibly make the coming years endurable. Was the game 
 worth the candle? ISTo thought of Muriel's misery entered 
 for an instant into this entirely sordid calculation, or would 
 have deterred her even momentarily, had it presented itself 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 211 
 
 in expostulation. The girl's heart had suddenly grown cal- 
 lous, and her hand would have ruthlessly smitten down any 
 object that dared to cross her path, or retard the accomplish- 
 ment of her schemes. Weary at last of pacing the dim starlit 
 avenue, and yet too wretched to think of sleeping, she re- 
 entered the house, and cautiously locking the door, threw 
 herself into a corner of the parlor sofa, which stood just be- 
 neath the portrait she so often studied. 
 
 If she had not at this juncture been completely absorbed 
 in gazing upon it, she might have seen the original, who soon 
 rose and came forward from the shadow of the curtains. 
 
 " Salome, I wish to make you my confidante, — to tell you 
 something which I have not yet mentioned even to Janet. 
 Can I trust you, little sister ? " 
 
 Eesting against the arm of the sofa, he looked intently into 
 her face, reading its perturbed lines. 
 
 " I presume you are amusing yourself by tantalizing my 
 curiosity, as your experiments appear to have thoroughly 
 satisfied you that I am utterly unworthy of trust. I foUow 
 the flattering advice you were so kind as to give me some 
 time since, and make no promises, which shatter like crystal 
 under the hammer of the first temptation. You see, sir, you 
 are teaching me to be cautious." 
 
 "You are teaching yourself lessons in dissimulation and 
 maliciousness, that you will heartily rue some day, but your 
 repentance Will come too tardily to mend the mischief." 
 
 She tried to screen her countenance, but He was in no 
 mood for trifling, and putting his palm under her chin, forced 
 her to submit to his scrutiny. 
 
 " Salome, if I did not cherish a strong faith in the latent 
 generosity of your soul, I would not come to you as I do 
 now to offer confidence, and demand it in return." 
 
 She guessed his meaning, and her eyes glowed with all the 
 baleful light that he had hoped was extinguished forever. 
 
 " Dr. Grey makes a grace of necessity, and a pretence of 
 confiding that which has ceased to be a secret. Is such his 
 boasted candor and honesty ? " 
 
 " If I believed that you were already acquainted with what 
 
212 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 I propose to divulge, I would not fritter away my lime in 
 appealing to a nobility of feeling which that fact alone 
 would prove the hopelessness of my ever finding in you." 
 
 He felt her face grow hot, and for an instant her eyes 
 drooped before his, stern and almost threatening. 
 
 " Well, sir ; I wait for your confidential disclosures. Is 
 there a Guy Fawkes, or Titus Gates, plotting against the 
 peace and prosperity of the house of Grey ? " 
 
 " Verily I am disposed to apprehend that there may be." 
 
 She endeavored to wrench her face from his hand, but he 
 held it firmly, and continued, — 
 
 " I wish to say to you that Muriel is very sensitive, and I 
 hope that during Mr. Granville's visit, you will try to be as 
 considerate and courteous as possible, to both. Salome, 
 Gerard Granville has asked Muriel to be his wife, and she has 
 promised to marry him at the expiration of a year." 
 
 The girl laughed derisively, and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Pray, Dr. Grey, be so good as to indulge me with your 
 motive in furnishing this piece of information ? " 
 
 " Your astuteness forbids the possibility of any doubt with 
 reference to my motives, — which are, explicitly, anxiety for 
 Muriel's happiness, and for the preservation of your integrity 
 and self-respect." 
 
 " What jeopardizes either ? " 
 
 "Your heartless, contemptible vanity, which tempts you to 
 demand a homage and incense that should be offered only 
 where it is due, — at another, and I grieve to add, a purer 
 shrine." 
 
 " Ah ! My unpardonable sin consists in having braided my 
 black locks, and made myself comely! If you will procure 
 an authentic portrait of the Witch of Endor, I will do proper 
 penance by likening my appearance thereunto. Poor little 
 rose ! Can't you open your pink lips and cry peccavi ? Come 
 down, sole ally and accomplice of my heinous vanity, and 
 plead for me, and make the amende honorable to this grim 
 guardian of Miss Muriel's peace ! " 
 
 She snatched the drooping rose from her hair, and tossed 
 it at his feet. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 213 
 
 " Salome, you forget yourself ! " 
 
 His stern displeasure rendered her reckless, and she con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 " True, sir. I iiO. forget that the poor miller's child had 
 no right to obtrude her comeliness in the presence of the 
 banker's daughter, i confess my 'high crime and misde- 
 meanor' against the pet of fortune, and await my condign 
 punishment. Is it your sovereign will that I shear my shin- 
 ing locks like royal Berenice, and offer them in propitiation ? 
 Or, does it seem 'good, meet, and your bounden duty,' to 
 have me promptly inoculated with small-pox, for the de- 
 struction of my skin, which is unjustifiably smoother and 
 clearer than — " 
 
 "Hush, hush!" 
 
 He laid his hand over her lips, and, for a while, there 
 was an awkward pause. 
 
 "If it were only possible to inoculate your heart with a 
 little genuine womanly charity, — if it were possible to per- 
 suade you to adopt as your rule of conduct that golden one 
 which Christ gave as a patent of peace to all who followed 
 it. But it is futile, hopeless. You will not, you will not, — 
 and my fluttering dove is at the mercy of a famished eagle, 
 already poised to swoop. I ' reckoned without my host ' when 
 I so confidently appealed to your magnanimity, to your 
 feminine integrity of soul. You are a ' deaf adder that 
 stoppeth her ear.' " 
 
 " Which will not ' hearken to the voice of the charmer, 
 charm he never so wisely.' Dr. Grey, what has the pampered 
 heiress, the happy fiancee of that handsome man np-stairs, 
 to fear from the poverty-stricken daughter of a miller, who 
 you conscientisusly inform your guest passed from time to 
 eternity through the gate opened by delirium tremens. Mark 
 you, my ' adder ears ' have not been sealed aU the evening." 
 
 She had taken his hand from her lips, and thrown it from 
 her. 
 
 " People who condescend to listen to conversations that are 
 not intended for them, generally deserve the punishment of 
 
214 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 hearing unpleasant truths discussed. Salome, our interview 
 is at an end." 
 
 " Not yet. Do you sincerely desire to see Muriel Mr. 
 Granville's wife ? " 
 
 "I do, because I know that she is strongly attached to 
 him." 
 
 " And you are sufficiently generous to sacrifice your happi- 
 ness, in order to promote hers ? Oh, marvellous magnanim- 
 ity!" 
 
 " Your insinuation is beneath my notice." 
 
 " How long have you known of her engagement ? " 
 
 " Since the first interview I had with her, after her father's 
 death." 
 
 " Let me see your face, Dr. Grey. If truth has not been 
 hunted out of the earth, it took refuge in your eyes. There, 
 I am satisfied. You never loved her. I think I must have 
 been insane, or I would not have imagined it possible. No, 
 no; she never touched your heart, save with a feeling of 
 compassion. Don't go, I want to say something to you. Sit 
 down, and let me think." 
 
 She walked up and down the room for ten minutes, and, 
 with his face bowed on his hand. Dr. Grey watched and 
 waited. 
 
 Finally he stooped to pick up the crushed rose on the floor, 
 and then she came back and stood before him. 
 
 '^I promise you I will not lay a straw in the path of 
 Muriel's happiness, and it shall not be my fault if Mr. Gran- 
 ville fails in a lover's devoir. I was tempted to entice him 
 from his sworn allegiance. Why should I deny what you 
 know so well? But I will not, and when I give my word, it 
 shall go hard with me but I keep it; especially when you 
 hold the pledge. Are you satisfied? I know that you have 
 little cause to trust me, but I tell you, sir, when I deceive 
 you, then all heaven with its hierarchies of archangels can 
 not save me." 
 
 After all, TJlpian Grey was only a man of flesh and blood, 
 and his heart was touched by the beauty of the young face^ 
 and the mournful sweetness of the softened voice. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. -215 
 
 "Thank you, Salome. I accept your promise, and rely 
 upon it. As a pledge of your sincerity I shall retain this 
 rose, and return it to you when little Muriel is a happy wife." 
 
 She clasped her hands, and looked at him with a mournful, 
 wistful expression, that puzzled him. 
 
 " My friend, my little sister, what is it ? Tell me, and let 
 me help you to do your duty, for I see that you are wrestling 
 desperately with some great temptation." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, be merciful to me. Send me away. Oh, for 
 God's sake, send me away ! " 
 
 She had grown ghastly pale, and her whole face indexed 
 a depth of anguish and despair that baffled utterance. 
 
 " My dear child, where do you desire to go ? If your wishes 
 are reasonable they shall be granted." 
 
 " Will you persuade Miss Jane to take Jessie in my place, 
 and send me to France or Italy?" 
 
 " To study music with the intention of becoming a prima 
 donna ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " My young friend, I cannot conscientiously advise a com- 
 pliance with wishes so fraught with danger to yourself." 
 
 " You fear that my voice does not justify so expensive an 
 experiment ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I have not a doubt that your extraor- 
 dinary voice will lift you to the highest pinnacle of musical 
 celebrity; and, because your career on the stage promises to 
 prove so brilliant, I shudder in anticipating the temptations 
 that will unavoidably assail you." 
 
 " You are afraid to trust me? " 
 
 "Yes, my little sister; you are so impulsive, so prone to 
 hearken to evil dictates rather than good ones, that I dread 
 the though of seeing you launched into the dangerous career 
 you contemplate, without some surer, safer, more infallible 
 pilot than your proud, passionate heart. If you were homely, 
 and a dullard, I shouldientertain less apprehension about your 
 future." 
 
 Her broad brow blackened with a frown that became a 
 
216 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 terrible scowl, and her eyes gleamed like lightning under tha 
 edge of a thunderous summer cloud. 
 
 " What is it to you whether I live or die ? The immaculate 
 soul of Ulpian Grey, M. D., will serenely wing its way up 
 through the stars, on and on to the great Gates of Pearl, — 
 oblivious of the beggar who, from the lowest Hades, where 
 she has fallen, eagerly watches his flight." 
 
 " The anxious soul of Ulpian Grey will pray for yours, as 
 long as we remain on earth. Salome, I am the truest friend 
 you will ever find this side of the City of God; and, when I 
 see you plunging madly into ruin, I shall snatch you back, 
 cost me what it may. Your jeers and struggle have not 
 deterred me hitherto, nor shall they henceforth. You are as 
 incapable of guiding yourself aright, as a rudderless bark is 
 of stemming the gulf-stream in a south-west gale; and I am 
 afraid to trust you out of my sight." 
 
 "Yes, I understand you; the good angel in your nature 
 pities the demon in mine. But your pity stifles me ; I could 
 not endure it; and, besides, I cannot stay here any longer. 
 I must go out into the world, and seize the fortune that 
 people tell me my voice will certainly yield me." 
 
 Flush and sparkle had died out of her face, which, in its 
 worn, haggard pallor, looked five years older than when she 
 entered the parlor, three hours before. 
 
 " Pecuniary considerations must not influence yon, because, 
 while Janet and I live, you shall want nothing; and when 
 either dies, you will be liberally provided for. Dismiss from 
 your mind a matter that has long been decided, and which no 
 wish of yours can annul or alter." 
 
 With an impatient wave of the hand, she answered, — 
 
 " Give to poor little Jessie and Stanley what was intended 
 for me. They are helpless, but I can take care of myself; 
 and, moreover, I am not contented here. I want to see 
 something of the world in which — bon gre mal gre — I find 
 myself. Let me go. Kousseau was a sage. ' Le mo"%de est la 
 livre des femmes.' " 
 
 He shook his head, and said, sorrowfully, — 
 
 "No, your instincts are unreliable; and if you roam away 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 217 
 
 from Jane and from me, you will sip more poison than 
 honey. Be wise, and remain where Providence has placed 
 you. I will bring Jessie here, and you shall teach her what 
 you choose, and Stanley can command all the educational ad- 
 vantages he will improve. After a while, you shall, if you 
 prefer it, have a pleasant home of your own, and dwell there 
 with the two little ones. Such has long been my scheme and 
 purpose; but, during my sister's life, she will never consent 
 to give you up ; and you owe it to her not to desert her in the 
 closing years, when she most urgently requires the solace of 
 your love and society." 
 
 Salome covered her face with her hands, and something 
 like a heavy dry sob shook her frame ; but the spring of 
 bitterness seemed exhaustless, and her voice was indescribably 
 scornful in its defiant ring. 
 
 "You are very charitable, Dr. Grey, and I thank you for 
 all your embryonic benevolent plans for me and my pauper 
 relatives; but I have drawn a very different map for my 
 future years. You seem to regard this house as a second 
 '£a Tour sans venin.' which, like its prototype near Gre- 
 noble, possesses an atmosphere fatal to all poisonous, noxious 
 things; but surely you forget that it has long sheltered me." 
 
 " No, it has never arrogated the prerogative of ' La Tour 
 sans venin,' but of one thing, my poor wilful child, you shall 
 never have reason to be skeptical, — that dear Jane and I will 
 indefatigably strive to serve you as faithfully and successfully, 
 as did in ancient days, the Psylli whom Plutarch immor- 
 talized." 
 
 Wliile he spoke Dr. Grey had been turning over the leave* 
 of the old family Bible, which happened to lie within his 
 reach ; and now, without premonition, he read aloud the fifty- 
 fifth Psahn. 
 
 She listened, not willingly, but ex necessitate rei, and rebel- 
 liously; and, when he finished the Psalm, and knelt, with his 
 face on his arms, which were crossed upon the back of a chair, 
 she stood haughtily erect and motionless beside him. 
 
 His prayer was brief and fervent, that God would aid her 
 in her efforts to curb her passionate temper, and to walk in 
 
218 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 accordance with the teachings of Jesus; and that he would 
 especially over-rule all things, and guide her decision in the 
 important step she contemplated. He rose, and turned to- 
 wards her, but her countenance was hidden. 
 " Good night, Salome. God bless you and direct you." 
 She raised her face, and her eyes sought his with a long, 
 questioning, pleading gaze, so full of anguish that he could 
 scarcely endure it. Then he saw the last spark of hope ex- 
 pire; and she bent her queenly head an instant, and silently 
 passed from the parlor. 
 
 " I have watched my first and holiest hopes depart, 
 One after one ; 
 I have held the hand of Death upon my heart, 
 And made no moan." 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 * Pardon my intrusion, Mrs. Gerome, and ascribe it to 
 Elsie's anxiety concerning your health. In compliance with 
 her request, I -have come to ascertain whether you really 
 require my attention." 
 
 Dr. Grey placed his hat and gloves on the piano, and estab- 
 lished himself comfortably in a large chair near the arch, 
 where Mrs. Gerome, palette in hand, sat before her easel. 
 
 "Elsie's nerves have run away with her sound common 
 sense, and filled her mind with vagaries. She imagines that 
 I need medicine, whereas I only require quiet and peace, 
 which neither she nor you will permit me to enjoy." 
 
 She did not even glance at the visitor, but mixed some 
 colors rapidly, and deepened the rose-tints in a cluster of 
 apple-blossoms she was scattering in the foreground of a 
 picture. 
 
 " If it is not of vital importance that those pearly petals 
 should be finished immediately, I should be glad to have you 
 turn your face towards me for a few moments. TherCj'^-' 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 219 
 
 thank you. Mrs. Gerome, do I look like a nervous, whimsical 
 man, whose fancy mastered his professional Judgment, or 
 blunted his acumen ? " 
 
 " You certainly appear as phlegmatic, as utterly unim- 
 aginative, as any lager-loving German, whom Teniers or 
 Ostade ever painted ' Unter den linden.' " 
 
 " Then my words should possess some influence when they 
 corroborate Elsie's statement, that you are far from well. 
 D« not be childishly incredulous, and impatiently shake your 
 head ; from a woman of your age and sense one expects more 
 dignity and prudence." 
 
 " Sir, your rudeness has at least a flavor of stern honesty 
 that makes it almost palatable. Do you propose to take my 
 case into your skilful hands ? " 
 
 " I merely propose to expostulate with you upon the un- 
 fortunate and ruinous course of life you have decided to 
 pursue. No eremite of the Thebaid, or the Nitroon, is more 
 completely immured than I find you ; and the seclusion from 
 society is quite as deleterious as the want of out-door air and 
 sunshine. Your mind,^ebarred from communion with your 
 race and denied novel and refreshing themes, centres in its 
 own operations and creations, broods over threadbare topics 
 until it has grown morbid; and, instead of deriving healthful 
 nourishment from the world that surrounds it, exhausts and 
 consumes itself, like fabled Araline, spiiming its substance 
 into filmy nothings." 
 
 " Filmy nothings ! Thank you. I flatter myself, when I 
 am safely housed under marble, the world will place a differ- 
 ent estimate upon some things I shall leave behind to chal- 
 lenge criticism." 
 
 "How much value will public plaudits possess for ears 
 sealed by death ? Mrs. Gerome, you are too lonely ; you must 
 have companionship that wUl divert your thoughts." 
 
 " Not I, indeed ! All that I require, I have in abundance, 
 — music, books, and my art. Here I am independent, for re- 
 member that he was a petted son of fame, who said, 'Books 
 are the true Elysian fields, where the spirits of the dead 
 converse, and into these fields a mortal may venture un- 
 
220 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 appalled. What king's court can boast such company, — what 
 school of philosophy such wisdom ? ' Verily if you had ever 
 examined my library you would not imagine I lacked com- 
 panionship. Why sir, yonder, — 
 
 ' The old, dead authors throng me round about, 
 And Elzevir's gray ghosts from leathern graves look out.' 
 
 Count Oxenstiern spoke truly, when he declared, ' Occupied 
 with the great minds of antiquity, we are no longer annoyed 
 by contemporaneous fools.' " 
 
 She rose and pointed to the handsome cases in the rear 
 room, filled with choice volumes; and, while she stood with 
 one arm resting on the easel, Dr. Grey looked searchingly at 
 her. 
 
 To-day there was a spirituelle beauty in the white face that 
 he had never seen before; and the large eloquent eyes were 
 full of dreamy sunset radiance, unlike their wonted steely 
 glitter. A change, vague and indefinable, but unmistakable, 
 had certainly passed over that countenance since its ownei 
 came to reside at " Solitude," and, instead of marring, had 
 heightened its loveliness. The features were thinner, the 
 cheeks had lost something of their pure oval moulding, and 
 the delicate nostrils were almost transparent in their waxen 
 curves ; but the arch of the lip was softened and lowered, and 
 the face was like that of some marble goddess on which mid- 
 summer moonshine sleeps. 
 
 Her white mull robe was edged at the skirt and up the 
 front with a rich border of blue morning-glories, and a blue 
 cord and tassel girded it at her waist, while the broad braids 
 of hair at the back of her head were looped and fastened with 
 a ribbon of the same color. Her sleeves were gathered up to 
 keep them clear of the paint on the palette, and the dimples 
 were no longer visible in her arms. The ivory flesh was 
 shrinking closer to the small bones, and the diaphanous hands 
 were so thin that the sapphire asp glided almost ofiE the slender 
 finger around which it was coiled. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, you have lost twenty pounds of flesh within 
 the last two months, and your extreme pallor alarms me." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 221 
 
 "All things look pallid in these rooms, for the light is 
 bluish, reflected from carpet, furniture, and curtains." 
 
 "I have noticed that you invariably wear blue, to the 
 exclusion of all other colors." 
 
 " Yes. Throughout the Levant it is considered a mortuary 
 color; and, moreover, I like its symbolism. The Mater 
 dolorosa often wears blue vestments; also the priests during 
 Lent; and even the images of Christ are veiled in blue, as 
 holy week approaches. Azure, in its absolute significance, 
 represents truth, and is the symbol of the soul after death; 
 so, as I walk the earth, — a fleshy 'death in life,' — I clothe 
 myself symbolically. In pagan cosmogonies the Creator is 
 always colored blue. Jupiter Ammon, Vischnou, Cneph, 
 Krischna, — all are azure. And because it is a solemn, con- 
 secrated color, mystic and mournful, I wear it." 
 
 " My dear madam, this is a morbid whimsicality that 
 trenches closely upon monomania, and would be more toler- 
 able in a lackadaisical school-girl, than in a mature, intelli- 
 gent, and gifted woman. Some of your fantasies would be 
 positively respectable in a Bedlamite, and you seem an anom- 
 alous compound of eccentricities peculiar to extreme youth 
 and to advanced age." 
 
 "I believe, sir, that you are entirely correct in your 
 analysis. I stand before you, young in years, but forsaken by 
 that ' blue-eyed Hope ' who frolics hand in hand with youth ; 
 and yet utterly devoid of that philosophy and wisdom which 
 justly belong to the old age of my heart." 
 
 Her tone was indescribably weary, and, as she laid aside 
 her brush and folded her hands together on the cross-beam 
 of the easel, the transient light died out of her countenance^ 
 and the worn, tired look, came back and settled on every 
 feature. 
 
 " The soft, sad eyes, 
 Set like twilight planets in the rainy skies,— 
 With the brow all patience, and the lips all pain," 
 
 wove a strange spell over the visitor, whose gaze was riveted 
 on the only woman who had ever aroused even temporary 
 interest in his heart. 
 
222 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 She was always beautiful, but to-day there was a helpless, 
 hopeless abandonment in her listless demeanor, that appealed 
 snccessfuUy to the manly tenderness and chivalry of his 
 nature; and into his strong, true, noble soul, came a longing 
 to cheer, and guide, and redeem this strange, desolate woman, 
 whose personal loveliness would have made her regnant over 
 the gay circles of fashionable life, yet whose existence was 
 more lonely than that of an eaglet in some mountain eyrie. 
 
 Eising, he leaned against the easel and looked down into 
 the colorless face that possessed such a wondrous charm for 
 him. 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, for natures diseased like yours, the only 
 remedy, the only cure, is earnest, vigorous labor; and the 
 regimen you really require is mournfully at variance with 
 your present habits and modes of thought/' 
 
 "I do labor incessantly; more indefatigably than any 
 plowman, or mason, or carpenter. Your prescription has 
 been thoroughly tested, and found worthless, as an antidote 
 to my malady, — ^hopelessness." 
 
 "Unfortunately the labor has all been mental; heart and 
 soul have stood aloof, while the brain almost wore itself out. 
 This canvas is destroying you; your creations are too rapid, 
 too exhausting." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, you grievously misapprehend the whole matter, 
 for my work reminds me of what Canova once said of West's 
 pictures, ' He groups ; he does not compose.' " 
 
 Dr. Grey put his hand on her wrist, and counted the rapid, 
 feeble, irregular pulse. 
 
 She made an effort to throw off his fingers, but they clung 
 tenaciously to the polished arm. 
 
 " How many hours do you sleep, during the twenty-four ? " 
 
 " Sometimes three, occasionally one, frequently none." 
 
 " How much longer do you suppose your constitution will 
 endure such merciless taxation?" 
 
 " I know very little about these things, and care still less, 
 but as Home Tooke said, when a foreigner inquired how 
 mucia treason an Englishman might venture to write without 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO P.Attr. 223 
 
 being hanged, 'I cannot inform you just yet, but I am try- 
 ing.'" 
 
 " Has life become such an intolerable burden that you are 
 impatient to shake it off? " 
 
 "Even so, Dr. Grey. When Elsie dies the last link will 
 have snapped, and I trust I shaU not long survive her. If I 
 prayed at all, it would be for speedy death." 
 
 " If you prayed at all, existence would not prove so weari- 
 some ; for resignation would cure half your woes." 
 
 " Confine your prescriptions to the body, — that is tangible, 
 and may be handled and scrutinized ; but venture no nostrums 
 for a heart and soul of which you know nothing. Once I was 
 almost a Moslem in the frequency and fervor of my prayers ; 
 but now, the only petition I could force myself to offer would 
 be that prayer of Epictetus, 'Lead me, Zeus and Destiny, 
 zohithersoever I am appointed to go; I will follow without 
 wavering; even though I turn coward- and shrink, I shall 
 have to follow, all the same.' " 
 
 Dr. Grey sighed heavily, and answered, — 
 
 "It is painful to hear from feminine lips a fatalism so 
 grim as to make all prayer a mockery; and it would seem 
 that the loss of those dear to you, would have insensibly and 
 unavoidably drawn your heart heavenward, in search of its 
 transplated idols." 
 
 He knew from the sudden spasm that seized her calm fea- 
 tures, and shuddered through her tall figure, that he had 
 touched, perhaps too rudely, some chord in her nature which — 
 
 " Made the coiled memory numb and cold, 
 
 That slept in her heart like a dreaming snake, 
 Di-owsily lift itself, fold by fold. 
 And gnaw, and gnaw hungrily, half-awake." 
 
 " Ah, indeed, my heart was drawn after them, — ^but not 
 heavenward ! No, no, no ! My idols were not transplanted, — 
 they were shattered ! — shattered ! " 
 
 She leaned forward, looking up into his face; and, raising 
 her hand impressively, she continued in a voice so mournful, 
 BO hopelessly bitter, that Dr. Grey shivered as he listened. 
 
224 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Oh, sir, you who stand gazing down in sorrowful re- 
 proach upon what you regard as my unpardonable impiety, 
 little dream of the fiery ordeal that consumed my childlike, 
 beautiful faith, as flames crisp and blacken chaff. I am 
 alone, and must ever be, while in the flesh; and I hoard my 
 pain, sparing the world my moans and tears, my wry faces and 
 desperate struggles. I tell you. Dr. Grey, — 
 
 ' None know the choice I made ; I make it still. 
 
 None know the choice I made, and broke my heart, 
 Breaking mine idol ; I have braced my will 
 
 Once, chosen for once my part. 
 I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold, 
 
 Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live. 
 My heart dies inch by inch ; the time grows old, 
 
 Grows old in which I grieve.' " 
 
 He did not comprehend her, but felt that her past must 
 have been melancholy indeed, of which the bare memory was 
 so torturing. 
 
 "At least, Mrs. Gerome, let us thank God, that beyond 
 the grave there remains an eternal reunion with your idol, 
 and—" 
 
 " God forbid ! You talk at random, and your suggestion 
 would drive me mad, if I believed it. Let me be quiet." 
 
 She walked away, and seemed intently watching the sea, of 
 whose protean face she never wearied; and, puzzled and 
 tantalized. Dr. Grey turned to examine the unfinished picture. 
 
 It represented an almost colossal woman, kneeling under 
 an apple-tree, with her folded hands lifted towards a setting 
 sun that glared from purple hills, across waving fields of 
 green and golden grain. The azure mantle that enveloped 
 the rounded form, floated on the wind and seemed to melt 
 in air, so dim were its graceful outlines ; and on one shoulder 
 perched a dove with head under its wing, nestling to sleep, — 
 while a rabbit nibbled the grass at her feet, and a squirrel 
 curled himself comfortably on the border of her robe. In 
 the foreground were scattered sheaves of yellow wheat, full 
 ears of com, bunches of blue, bloom-covered grapes, clusters 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 225 
 
 of olives, and various delicate flowers whose brilliant hues 
 seemed drippings from some wrung and broken rainbow. 
 
 The face was unlike flesh and blood, — was dim, elfish, wan, 
 with large, mild eyes, as blue and misty as the nebulm that 
 Herschel found in Southern skies, — eyes that looked at 
 nothing, but seemed to penetrate the universe and shed soft 
 solemn light over all things. Back from the broad, low brow, 
 floated a cloud of silky yellow hair, that glittered in the slant- 
 ing rays of sunshine as if powdered with gold dust ; and over 
 its streaming strands fluttered two mottled butterflies, and a 
 honey-laden bee. On distant hill-slopes cattle browsed, and 
 at the right of the kneeling woman a young lamb nibbled a 
 cluster of snowy lilies, while a dappled fawn watched the 
 gambols of a dun kid; and on the left, in a tuft of bearded 
 grass, a brown snake arched its neck to peer at a brood of 
 half-fledged partridges. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, wUl you be so kind as to explain this mytho- 
 logie design?" 
 
 She came back to the easel, and took up her palette. 
 
 "If it requires an explanation it is an egregious failure, 
 and shall find a vacant corner in some rubbish garret." 
 
 " It is exceedingly beautiful, but I do not fully comprehend 
 the symbolism." 
 
 "If it does not clearly mean the one thing for which it 
 was intended, it means nothing, and is worthless. Look, sir, 
 she — 
 
 ' Forgets, remembers, grieves, and is not sad ; 
 
 The quiet lands and skies leave light upon her eyes ; 
 None knows her weak, or wise, or tired, or glad.' " 
 
 Dr. Grey bit his lip, but shook his head. 
 
 "You must read me your painted riddle more explicitly. 
 Is it Ceres?" 
 
 "No, sir; a few sheaves do not make a harvest. I am a 
 stupid bungler, spoiling canvas and wasting paint, or else you 
 are as obtuse as the critics who may one day hover hungrily 
 over it. Try the aid of one more clew, and if you fail to 
 catch my purpose, I will dash my brush all loaded with ochre, 
 15 
 
226 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 right into those mystic, prescient eyes, and blur them forever. 
 Listen, and guess, — 
 
 ' This is my lady's praise ; 
 God after many days 
 ■Wrought her in unknown ways. 
 
 In sunset lands ; 
 This was my lady's birth, 
 God gave her miglit and mirth 
 And laid his whole sweet earth 
 
 Between her hands.' " 
 
 " Pray do not visit the sin of my stupidity upon that 
 fascinating picture. I am not familiar with the lines you 
 quote, but know that you have represented Nature, have em- 
 bodied an ideal Isis, or Hertha, or Cybele; though I can not 
 positively name the phase of the Universal Mother, which 
 you have seized and perpetuated." 
 
 He caught her arm, and removed from her fingers the pal- 
 ette and brushes. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, it is more than either or all of the three you 
 mention; for Persian mythology, like Persian wines and 
 Persian roses, is richer, more subtle, more fragrant, more 
 glowing than any other. That woman is ' Espendermad.' " 
 
 "Thank you; now I comprehend the whole. God has 
 endowed you with wonderful talent. The fruit and flowers 
 in that foreground must have cost you much labor, for indeed 
 you seem to have faithfully followed the injunction of Titian, 
 ' Study the effect of light and shade on a bunch of grapes.' 
 That luscious amber cluster lying near the poppies is tan- 
 klizingly suggestive of Ehineland, and of the vines that 
 garland the hills of Crete and Cyprus." 
 
 A shade of annoyance and disappointment crossed the ar- 
 tist's face. 
 
 " Now, I quite realize what Cespedes felt, when, finding 
 that visitors were absorbed by the admirable finish of some 
 Jars and vases in the foreground of the ' Last Supper,' upon 
 which he had expended so much time and thought, he called 
 his servant and exclaimed in great chagrin, * Andres, rub me 
 
ONTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 227 
 
 out these things, since, after all my care and study, people 
 choose to see nothing but these impertinences.' " 
 
 " If Zeuxis' grandest triumph consisted in painting grapes, 
 you assuredly should not take umbrage at my praise of that 
 fruit on your canvas, which hints of Tokay and Lachrima 
 Christi. I am not an artist, but I have studied the best 
 pictures in Europe and America, and you must acquit me of 
 any desire to flatter when I tell you that background yonder 
 is one of the most extraordinary successes I have ever seen, 
 from either amateur or professional painters." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome arched her black brows slightly, and replied, — 
 
 " Then the success was accidental, and I stumbled upon it, 
 for I bestow little study on the backgrounds of my work. 
 They are mere dim distances of bluish haze, and do not 
 interest me, and, since I paint for amusement, I give most 
 thought to my central figure." 
 
 " Have you forgotten the anecdote of Eubens, who, when 
 offered a pupil with the recommendation that he was suffi- 
 ciently advanced in his studies to assist him at once in his 
 backgrounds, laughed, and answered, 'If the youth was 
 capable of painting backgrounds he did not need his instruc- 
 tion; because the regulation and management of them re- 
 quired the most comprehensive knowledge of the art.' " 
 
 " Yes, I am aware that is one of the dogmata of the craft, 
 but Eubens was no more infallible than you or I, and his 
 pictures give me less pleasure than those of any other artist 
 of equal celebrity. Dr. Grey, if I am even a tolerable judge 
 of my own work, the best thing I have yet achieved is the 
 drapery of that form. Perhaps I am inclined to plume my- 
 self upon this point, from the fact that it was the opinion of 
 Carlo Maratti that 'The arrangement of drapery is more 
 difiBcult than drawing the human figure; because the right 
 effect depends more upon the taste of the artist than upon any 
 given rules.' That sweep of blue gauze has cost me more toil 
 than everything else on tlie canvas." 
 
 "Pardon the expression of my curiosity concerning your 
 modes of composition in these singular and quaint creations, 
 
228 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 for which you have no models; and tell me how this idea! 
 presented itself to your imagination." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I am not a great genius like Goethe, and un- 
 fortunately can not candidly echo his declaration, that, 
 * Nothing ever came to me in my sleep.' I can scarcely tell 
 you when this idea was first born in my busy, tireless brain, 
 but it took form one evening after I had read Charlotte 
 Bronte's ' Woman Titan,' in ' Shirley,' and compared it with 
 that glowing description of Jean Paul Eichter, ' And so the 
 Sun stands at the border of the Earth, and looks back on 
 his stately Spring, whose robe-folds are valleys, whose breast- 
 bouquet is gardens, whose blush is a vernal evening, and who, 
 when she rises, will be Summer.' Still it was vague, and 
 eluded me, until I found somewhere in my most desultory 
 reading, an account of ' E spender mad,' one of the six angels 
 of Ormuzd, to whom was entrusted the guardianship of the 
 earth. That night I dreamed that I stood under a vine at 
 Schiraz, gathering golden-tinted grapes, when a voice arrested 
 me, and, looking over my shoulder, I saw that face peeping 
 at me across a hedge of crimson roses. Next day I sketched 
 the features as they had appeared in my dream, but I was 
 not fully satisfied, and waited and pondered. Finally, I read 
 ' Madonna Mia,' and then all was as you see it now, startlingly 
 distinct and palpable." 
 
 "Why did you not select some dusky-haired, dusky-eyed, 
 olive-tinted oriental type, instead of a blonde who might 
 safely venture into Valhalla as a genuine Celtic Iduna ? " 
 
 " With the exception of the yellow locks, I suspect the face 
 of my ' Espendermad' might easily be matched among the 
 maidens of the Caucasus, who furnish the most perfect types 
 of Circassian beauty. You know there is a tradition that 
 when Leonardo da Vinci chanced to meet a man with an ex- 
 pression of character that he wished to make use of in his 
 work, he followed him until he was able to delineate the face 
 on canvas; but, on the contrary, the countenances I paint 
 present themselves to my imagination, and pursue me in- 
 exorably until I put them into pigment. I do not possess 
 ideals, — ^they seize and possess me, teasing me for form and 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 229 
 
 color, and forcing me to object them on canvas. Such is the 
 modus operandi- oi whims that give me my ' Espendermad' 
 praying to the Sun for benisons on the Earth, which she is 
 appointed to guard. Ah, if like the lambkins and birds, I, 
 too, could creep to the starry border of her azure robe, and 
 lay my weary head down and find repose. Some day, if my 
 mind ever grows calm enough, I want to paint a picture of 
 Eest, that I can hang on my wall and look upon when I am 
 worn out in body and soul, when, indeed, — 
 
 ' My feet are wearied, and my hands are tired. 
 My heart oppressed, 
 And I desire, what I long desired, 
 Rest,— only Rest.' " 
 
 " My dear madam, unless you speedily change your present 
 mode of life, you will not paint that contemplated picture, for 
 a long rest will soon overtake you." 
 
 A gleam that was nearer akin to joy than any expression 
 he had yet seen, passed from eye to lip, and she answered, 
 almost eagerly, — 
 
 " If that be true, it offers a premium for the continuance of 
 habits you condemn so strenuously; but I dare not hope it, 
 and I beg of you not to tantalize me with vain expectations 
 of a release that may yet be far, far distant." 
 
 Dr. Grey's heart stirred with earnest sympathy for this 
 lonely hopeless soul, who, standing almost upon the threshold 
 of life, stretched her arms so yearningly to woo the advance of 
 death. 
 
 The room was slowly filling with shadows, and, leaning 
 there against her easel, she looked as unearthly as the pearly 
 forms that summer clouds sometimes assume, when a harvest- 
 moon springs up from sea foam and fog, and stares at them. 
 When she spoke again, her voice was chill and crisp. 
 
 " My malady is beyond your reach, and baffles human skill. 
 You mean only kindness, and I suppose I ought to thank 
 you, but alas! the sentiment of gratitude is such a stranger 
 in my heart, that it has yet to learn an adequate language. 
 
230 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Br. Grey, the only help you can possibly render me is to pro« 
 long Elsie's life. As for me, and my uncertain future, give 
 yourself no charitaMe solicitude. Do you recollect what Less- 
 ing wrote to Claudius ? ' I am too proud to own that I am 
 unhappy. I shut my teeth, and let the bark drift. Enough 
 that I do not turn it over with my own hands.' Elsie is 
 signalling for me. Do you hear that bell ? Good-night, Dr. 
 Grey." 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 "1 HAVE had a long conversation with Ulpian, and find 
 him violently opposed to the scheme you mentioned to me 
 several days since, He declares he will gladly share his last 
 dollar with you sooner than see you embark in a career so 
 fraught with difficulties, trials, and — " 
 
 Miss Jane paused to find an appropriate word, and Salome 
 very promptly supplied her. 
 
 " Temptations. That is exactly what you both mean. Go 
 on." 
 
 " Well, yes, dear. I am afraid the profession you have 
 selected is beset with dangerous allurements for one so in- 
 experienced and unsophisticated as yourself." 
 
 " Bah ! Speak out. I am sick of circumlocution. What 
 do you understand by unsophisticated ? " 
 
 " Why, I mean, — well, what can I mean but just what the 
 word expresses, — ^unsophisticated? That is, young, thought- 
 less, ignorant of the ways of the world, and the excessive 
 cunning and deceit of human nature." 
 
 " Begging your pardon, it has another significance, which 
 you will find if you look into your dictionary, — that blessed 
 Magna Charta of linguistic rights and privileges. I do not 
 claim the prerogatives of Euskin's class of the ' well educated, 
 who are learned in the peerage of words; know the words 
 of true descent and ancient blood at a glance, from words 
 of modern canaille j' but I venture the assertion that I am 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 231 
 
 sufiBciently sophisticated to plunge into the vortex of public 
 life, and yet keep my head above water." 
 
 " I don't want to see my little girl an actress, or a prima 
 donna, bold, forward, and eager to face a noisy, clamorous 
 crowd, who feel privileged to say just what they please about 
 her. It would break my heart ; and, if you are bent on such 
 a step, I hope you will wait, at least, till I am dead." 
 
 " You ought to be willing to see me do anything honest, 
 that will secure my dependent brother and sister from want." 
 
 "The necessity of laboring for them is not especially im- 
 perative at this juncture, and why should you be more sen- 
 sitive now than formerly? Do not deceive yourself, dear 
 child, but face the truth, no matter how ugly it may possibly 
 be. It is not a sense of duty to the younger children, but an 
 inflated vanity, that prompts you to parade your beauty and 
 your wonderful voice on the stage, where they will elicit ap- 
 plause and flattering adulation. My little girl, that is the 
 jnost dangerous, the most unhealthy atmosphere, a woman 
 can possibly breathe." 
 
 " Pray tell me how you learned all this ? You, who have 
 spent your life in this quiet old house, who have been almost 
 as secluded as some Cambrian Culdee, can really know noth- 
 ing of that public life you condemn so bitterly." 
 
 "The history of those who have walked in the path you 
 are now preparing to follow, proves the deleterious influences 
 and ruinous associations that surround that class of women." 
 
 "Jenny Lind and Sarah Siddons redeem any class, no 
 matter how much maligned." 
 
 "But what assurance have I, that, unlike the ninety-nine, 
 you will resemble the one-i.aj.dredth?" 
 
 " Only try me. Miss Jane.'"' 
 
 "Ah, child! A rash boy said the same thing when he 
 tried to drive the sun, and not only consumed himself but 
 nearly burned up the world. There is rather too much at 
 stake to warrant such reckless expe"riments." 
 
 " Quit mythology, — it is not in your line, — and come back 
 to stern facts and serious realities. Because I wish to dance 
 a quadrille or cotillion, and acquit myself creditably, does it 
 
232 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 ensue as an inexorable consequence, that I shall join some 
 strolling ballet troupe, and out-Bayadere the Bayaderes ? " 
 
 " That depends altogether upon your agility and grace. If 
 you could reasonably hope to rival your Hebrew namesake, I 
 am afraid my little girl would think it ' her duty ' to dance 
 instead of to sing, for thei acquisition of a fortune ; and insist 
 upon executing wonderful things with her heels and toes, 
 instead of her voice." 
 
 " You and Dr. Grey seem to have simultaneously arrived at 
 the charitable conclusion that my heart is pretty much in the 
 same condition that the Hebrew temple was, when Christ 
 undertook to drive out the profane. Thongs in hand you two 
 have overturned my motives, and, by a very summary court- 
 martial, condemned them to be scourged out. Now, mark 
 you, I am neither making change nor selling doves, and still 
 less are you and your brother — Jesus. Dr. Grey does me 
 the honor to indulge a chronic skepticisni concerning the pos- 
 sibility of any good and unselfish impulse in my nature, and 
 I am sorry to see that you have caught the contagious doubt 
 of me, and of my motives." 
 
 She began the sentence in a challenging, sneering voice, 
 but it was ended in a lower and faltering tone. 
 
 " While in the light of her large angry eyes, 
 Uprose and rose a slow imperious sorrow." 
 
 " My dear, don't attempt to whip Ulpian over my shoulders. 
 Tou know very well that I have invested in you an amount of 
 faith that the united censure of the world cannot shake ; and 
 if Ulpian does not follow my example, whose fault is it, I 
 .should be glad to know? Evidently not his, — certainly not 
 mine, — but undoubtedly yours. I have noticed that you took 
 extraordinary care and a very peculiar pleasure in making 
 him believe you much worse in all respects than you really 
 are; and since you have 'labored so industriously to lower 
 yourself in his estimation, it would be a poor compliment to 
 your skill and energy if I told you that you had not entirely 
 succeeded in your rather remarkable aim. Before he came 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 233 
 
 home you were as contented, and amiable, and happy, as my 
 old cat there on the rug; but Ulpian's appearance affected 
 you as the entrance of a dog does my maltese, who arches 
 her back, and growls, and claws, as long as he is in sight. I 
 am truly sorry you two could never agree, but I feel bound 
 to teU you that you have only yourself to blame. I do not 
 claim that my sailor-boy is a saint, but he is assuredly some 
 inches nearer sanctiflcation than my poor little Salome. 
 Don't you think so ? Be honest, dear." 
 
 Miss Jane's hand tenderly caressed the beautiful head; and, 
 as Salome was too sullen or too much mortified to reply, the 
 old lady continued, — 
 
 " Nevertheless, TJlpian is a true and devoted friend, and 
 can not bear the thought of your leaving us, for any purpose, 
 much less the one you contemplate. Last night he said, 
 'Janet, I am her brother, and think you I shall allow my 
 sister to go out from the sacred precincts of home, and be- 
 come a target for the envy and malice of the better classes 
 who will criticise her, and for the coarse plaudits of the pit ? 
 Do you suppose I can willingly see her bare feet turned to- 
 wards a path paved with glowing ploughshares? Tell her, 
 for me, that if ever she should carry her unfortunate freak 
 into execution, I shall never wish to touch her hand again, 
 for I shall feel that it has lost its purity in the clasp of many 
 to whom she can not refuse it during a professional career.' '* 
 
 The orphan lifted her head from the arm of Miss Jane's 
 chair, where it had rested for some minutes, and striking her 
 palms forcibly together, she exclaimed, proudly, — 
 
 " Tell Dr. Grey I humbly thank him, but the threat has 
 lost its sting ; and if I should chance to meet him years hence, 
 though my hands shall be pure and clean as Una's, and as 
 unsullied as his own, — so help me heaven! I will never 
 thrust my touch on his, nor so far forget myself as to suffer 
 his fingers to approach mine. When I pass from this 
 threshold, we will have shaken hands forever." 
 
 " Dr. Grey's ears are not proof against such elevated, ring- 
 ing tones of voice, and he could not avoid hearing, as he came 
 
234 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 up the steps, the childish words which he assures you he haa 
 no intention of believing or remembering." 
 
 He had tapped twice at the half-open door, and now cama 
 forward with a firm, quick step, to the ottoman where Salome 
 sat. Taking her hands, he patted the palms softly against 
 each other, and smiling good-humoredly, continued, — 
 
 "They are very white, and shapely, and pure, and I am 
 not afraid that my little sister will soil them. - Her brother 
 looks forward to the day when they will gently and gracefully 
 help him in his work among God's suffering poor. I have 
 not forgotten how dexterous and docile I found your fingers, 
 when I had temporarily lost the use of my own, and I shall 
 not fail to levy contributions of labor in the coming years." 
 
 She had snatched her fingers from his, and no sooner had 
 he ceased speaking, than she bowed haughtily, and an- 
 swered, — 
 
 " Our reconciliations all belong to the Norman family, and 
 are quite as lasting as Lamourette's. Ceaseless war is prefer- 
 able to a violated truce, and since I have not swerved from 
 my purpose, I shall not falter in its enunciation. If I live 
 it shall not be my fault if I fail to go upon the stage. I am 
 not so fastidious as Dr. Grey, and one who sprang from 
 canaille must be pardoned if she betrays a longing for the 
 ' flesh-pots of Egypt.' " 
 
 She would have given her right hand to recall her words, — 
 when, a moment later, she met the gaze of profound pity and 
 disappointment with which Dr. Grey's eyes dwelt upon her 
 countenance, hardened now by its expression of msolent 
 haughtiness ; but he allowed her no opportunity for retraction, 
 even had she mastered her overweening pride, and stooping 
 to whisper a brief sentence in his sister's ear, he took a medical 
 book from the table, and left the room. 
 
 The silence that ensued seemed interminable to Salome, 
 and at last she turned, bowed her head in Miss Jane's lap, 
 and muttered through set teeth, — 
 
 " You see it is best that I should go. Even you must be 
 weary of this strife " 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 235 
 
 The old lady's trembling hands were laid lovingly on the 
 girl's hot brow and scorched cheeks. 
 
 " Not half so weary as your own oppressed heart. My dear 
 child, why do you persist in tormenting yourself so unmerci- 
 fully? Why will you say things that you do not mean? — 
 that are absolute libels on your actual feelings ? I have often 
 seen and deplored aifectations of generosity and refinement, 
 but you are the first person I ever met who delighted in a pre- 
 tence of meanness, which her genuine nature abhorred. 
 Salome, I have tried to prove myself a mother to you since 
 the day that I took you under my roof ; and now, when I am 
 passing away from the world, — ^when a few short months wiU 
 probably end my feeble life, I think you owe it to me to give 
 me no sorrow that your hands can easily ward off. Don't 
 leave me. When I am gone there will be time and to spare, 
 for all your schemes. Stay here, and let me have peace and 
 sunshine about me, in my last fading hours. Ah, dear, you 
 can't be cruel to the old. woman who has long loved you so 
 tenderly." 
 
 The orphan pressed the withered hands to her lips, and, 
 covering her face with the folds of Miss Jane's black silk 
 apron, exclaimed passionately, — 
 
 " Do not think me ungrateful, — do not think me insensible 
 to your love and kindness; but, indeed I am very miserable 
 here. Oh, Miss Jane ! if you knew how I have suffered, you 
 would not chide, you would only pity and sympathize with 
 me; for your heart will never steel itself against your poor 
 wretched Salome ! " 
 
 She lost control of herself, and sobbed violently. 
 
 " My dear little girl, tell me all your sorrows. To whom 
 can y«u reveal your trials and griefs, if not to me? For 
 some weeks past I have observed that you shunned my gaze, 
 and seemed restless when I endeavored to discover how you 
 were employing your time ; and I have realized .that you were 
 sorely distressed, but I disliked to force your confidence,, or 
 appear suspicious. Now, I have a right to ask what makes 
 you miserable in my house? Is the little girl ashamed to 
 show me her heart? " 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " One month since, I would have gone to the stake rathei 
 than have shown it to you, or have had any one dream of the 
 wretchedness locked in its chambers; but a week ago I was 
 overwhelmed with humiliation, and now I am not ashamed 
 to tell you. Now that Dr. Grey knows it, I would not care 
 if the whole world were hissing and jeering at my heels, and 
 shouting my shame with a thousand trumpets, I tried to 
 keep it from him, and failing, the world is welcome to roll it 
 as a sweet morsel under its busy, stinging, slanderous tongue. 
 Miss Jane, I have intended to be sincere in every respect, 
 but it appears that, after all, I have probably been an arrant 
 hypocrite if you believe that I dislike your brother. I want 
 to go away, because I can no longer endure to live in the 
 same house with Dr. Grey, who shows me more plainly every 
 hour that he can never return the affection I have been idiotic 
 and presu-*iptuous enough to cherish for him. There! I 
 have said it, — and my lips are not blistered by the unwomanly 
 confession, and you still permit my head to rest in your lap. 
 I expected you would be indignant and insulted, and gladly 
 Bend such a lunatic from your family circle,— or that you 
 would dismiss me coolly, with lofty contempt; but only a 
 woman can properly pity a woman's weakness, and you are 
 crying over me. Ah, if your tears were falling on my grave, 
 instead of my face ! " 
 
 Hiss Jane was weeping bitterly, but now and then she 
 stooped and kissed the quivering lips of her unhappy charge, 
 who found some balm in the earnest sympathy with which 
 her appeal was received. 
 
 " My precious child, why should you be ashamed of your 
 love for the noblest man who ever unconsciously became a 
 woman's idol? I do not much wonder at your feelings, be- 
 cause you have seen no one else in any respect comparable to 
 him, and it is difficult for you to realize the disparity in your 
 ages. Poor thing! It must be terrible, indeed, to one who 
 loves him as you do, to have no hope of possessing his affec- 
 tion in return. But I suppose it can't be helped, — and one 
 half the world seem to pour out their love on the wrong 
 persons, and find misery where they should have only joy and 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 237 
 
 peace. Thank God, all this mischief is shut out of heaven! 
 Dear, don't hide your face, as if you had stolen half of my 
 sheep; whereas my poor innocent sailor-hoy has unintention- 
 ally stolen my little girl's heart." 
 
 "Miss Jane, you are too good, — too kind. Do not help 
 me to excuse myself, — do not teach me to palliate my pitiable 
 weakness. It is a grievous, a shameful, a disgraceful thing, 
 for a woman to allow herself to love any man who gives her 
 no evidence of affection, and shows her beyond all doubt that 
 he is utterly indifferent to her. This is a sin against wo- 
 manly pride and delicacy that demands sackcloth and ashes, 
 and penanccf and long years of humiliation and self-abase- 
 ment ; and I tell you this is the one sin which my proud soul 
 will never pardon in my poor weak, despised heart." 
 
 "If you feel this so keenly, you will soon succeed in con- 
 quering and casting out of your heart an affection, which, 
 having nothing to feed upon, will speedily exhaust itself. 
 You are young, and your elastic nature will rebound from 
 the pressure that you now find so painful. My dear, a few 
 months or years will bring comparative oblivion of this period 
 of your life." 
 
 "No; they will engrave more deeply the consciousness 
 that I have missed my sole chance of earthly happiness, for 
 Dr. Grey is the only man I shall ever love,-^is the only man 
 who can lift me to his own noble height of excellence. I know 
 it is customary to laugh at a girl's protestations of undying 
 devotion, and that the theory of feminine constancy is as 
 entirely effete as the worship of the Cabiri, or the belief in 
 Blokula and its witches; but, unfortunately, the world has 
 hot sneered it entirely out of existence, and I am destined to 
 furnish a mournful exemplification of its reality. Whether 
 my nature is unlike that of the majority of women, I shall 
 not undertake to decide ; but this I know,— God gave me only 
 eo much love to spend, and I poured it all out, I deluged my 
 idol with it, instead of doling it carefully through the future 
 years. Like the woman of Bethany, I have broken my box 
 of alabaster, and spilled all my precious ointment, which 
 might have served for a lifetime of anointing, and I cannot 
 
238 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 renew the shattered receptacle, nor gather back the wasted 
 fragrance; and so my heart must remain without spikenard 
 or balm during its earthly sojourn. I have been prodigal, — 
 have beggared my womanly nature, — and henceforth shall 
 feast on husks. But this piece of foUy can be laid on no 
 shoulders but my own, and I must not wince if they are galled 
 by burdens which only I have imposed. Some women, under 
 similar circumstances, console themselves by fostering a tender 
 and excessive gratitude, which they pet and fondle and call 
 second love; but the feeling belongs to a different species, 
 and is to strong, earnest, genuine love, what the stunted pines 
 of second growth are to. the noble, stalwart, unapproachable 
 oaks, that spring from the primitive virgin soil." 
 
 Miss Jane lifted the bowed face, and rested the head against 
 her bosom. 
 
 " If you are so thoroughly convinced of the impossibility of 
 mastering this affection, why talk of going away ? You will 
 be happier here, under any circumstances, than among 
 strangers." 
 
 " Do not misapprehend me. I do not intend to cherish my 
 weakness, — ^to caress and pamper it. I mean to strangle, 
 and mangle, and bury it, if possible. I meant, not that I 
 should always love Dr. Grey, but that I should never be able 
 to regard any one etee as I once loved him. I can not stay 
 here, seeing hiln daily trample my alabaster and ointment 
 under his feet. I can not endure the humiliation that has 
 for some days past made this house more intolerable than I 
 may one day find Phlegethon. I want to go into the whirl 
 and din of life, where my thoughts can dwell on some more 
 comforting theme than the peerless preeminence of the man 
 who is master here, where I can spend hours in elaborating 
 toilettes and coiffures that will show to the greatest advantage 
 my small stock of personal charms ; where the admiration and 
 love of other men will at least amuse and soothe the heart 
 tha,t has no more love for anybody, or anything. Miss Jane, 
 if I had never become so deeply attached to Dr. Grey, it 
 might perhaps be unsafe for me to venture into the career 
 which now lies before me ; but when a woman's heart is cold 
 
UNTIL DEATB US DO PART. 23* 
 
 and dead in her bosom, there is no peril she need fear; for 
 only her warm, pleading heart, can ever silence the iron clang 
 of conscience and the silvery accents of reason. Worship- 
 ping some clay god, my loving, yearning heart, might pos- 
 sibly have led me astray ; but now, pride and ambition stand 
 as sentinels over its corpse, and a heartless woman, desirous 
 only of amassing a fortune and making herself a celebrity in 
 musical circles, is as safe from harm as the bones of her grand- 
 mother, twenty years buried. 
 
 The agony that convulsed the orphan's features, and 
 shivered the smoothness of her usually sweet voice, touched 
 the old lady's sympathy, and she wept silently ; straining her 
 imagination for some argument that would make an impres- 
 sion on the adamantine will with which she found her own 
 in conflict. 
 
 "My child, tell me how long you have had this trouble. 
 When did you first feel an interest in Ulpian ? " 
 
 Unhesitatingly Salome related all that had occurred in her 
 intercourse with Dr. Grey, and her companion was surprised 
 at the frankness and mereilessness with which she analyzed 
 her own feelings at each stage of the acquaintance that proved 
 so disastrous to her peace of mind; and not only held her 
 weakness up for scorn, but exonerated Dr. Grey from all cen- 
 sure. 
 
 The minuteness of the confession was exceedingly painful ; 
 and, at its conclusion, she pressed her palms to her cheeks, 
 and moaned, — 
 
 " There, Miss Jane, I have not winced ; I have kept back 
 nothing. I have been as patient and inexorable in laying 
 open my nature, in treating you to a post-mortem examina- 
 tion of my heart, as a dentist in scraping and chiselling a 
 sensitive tooth, or a surgeon in cutting out a cancer that 
 baffled cauterization. Now you know aU that I can tell yon, 
 and I here lay the past in a sepulchre, and roll the stone upon 
 it, and henceforth I trust you will respect the dead ; at least, 
 let silence rest upon its ashes. Hie jacet cor cordium." 
 
 Salome extricated herself from the arms of her best friend. 
 
240 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and smoothed the hair that constant strokes had somewhat 
 disordered. 
 
 " Salome, I can not live much longer." 
 
 "I know that, dear Miss Jane, and it pains me even to 
 think of leaving the only person who ever really loved me." 
 
 " For my sake, dear child, bear the trial of remaining here a 
 little longer; at least, until I die. Do not desert me in my 
 last hours. I do not want the hands of strangers about me, 
 when I am cold and stifE." 
 
 Salome rose and walked several times up and down the 
 room ; then paused beside the easy-chair, and laid her clasped 
 hands in Miss Jane's. 
 
 "You alone have a right to control me. Do with me as 
 you thinfe best. I will not forsake the true, tender friend, 
 who has done more for me than all else on earth, or in heaven. 
 For the present I remain here; but allow me to say that I 
 do not abandon my scheme. I relinquish none of its details, 
 — ^I only bide my time." 
 
 " ' Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' Thank you, 
 my precious little girl, for yielding to my wishes when they 
 conflict with yours. Some day you will rejoice that you made 
 what seemed a sacrifice of inclination on the altar of duty. 
 Now, listen to me. Ulpian is so enraptured with your voice, 
 that, while he will never consent to this stage-struck mad- 
 ness, he is exceedingly anxious that you should enjoy every 
 musical advantage, and is curious to ascertain to what degree 
 of perfection your voice can be trained. After consulting me, 
 he wrote two days ago to a celebrated professor of music in 
 Philadelphia or New York (I really forget where the man is 
 now residing), and offered him a handsome salary if he would 
 come and teach you for at least six months, or as much longer 
 as he deems requisite. I believe the gentleman is delicate 
 and threatened with consumption, which obliges him to spend 
 the winters in a warm climate, and Ulpian first met him in 
 Italy. My boy thinks that the opinion of this Professor Von 
 Somebody is oracular in musical matters; and, as he has 
 trained some of the best singers in Europe, Ulpian wishes 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 241 
 
 him to have charge of your voice. Say nothing about it until 
 we hear whether he can accept our offer. Kiss me." 
 
 Salome's face crimsoned, and she said, hesitatingly, — 
 
 " Miss Jane, I can not consent that Dr. Grey should con- 
 tribute one cent toward my musical tuition. I can humbly 
 and gratefully accept your charitable aid, but not his. You 
 love me, and therefore your bounty is not oppressive or hu- 
 miliating, but he only pities and tolerates me, and I would 
 starve in some gutter rather than live as the recipient of 
 his charity. If you can conveniently spare the money neces- 
 sary to give me additional cultivation, I shall thankfully re- 
 ceive it, for Barilli has taught me all of which he is master, 
 and there is no one else in town in whom I have more con- 
 fidence. It was my desire and determination that the work 
 of my hands should pay for polishing my voice, but em- 
 broidery-fees would not suffice to defray the expenses of the 
 professor to whom you allude ; and, if Dr. Grey pays for his 
 services, I must in advance assure you and him that I shall 
 decline them, and rely upon Barilli and myself." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! It is poor philosophy to quarrel with your 
 bread and butter, no matter who happens to hand it to you. 
 Don't be so savage on TJlpian, who really cares more for you 
 than you deserve. But if it comforts your proud, fierce spirit, 
 you are welcome to know that I — Jane Grey — ^pay Professor 
 Von — whatever his name may be ; and TJlpian's pocket, about 
 which you seem so fastidious, will not be damaged one dollar 
 by the transaction. Are you satisfied, — ^you pretty piece of 
 beggarly pride ? " 
 
 " I am more grateful to you, dear Miss Jane, than I shall 
 ever be able to express. God only knows what would have 
 become of me if you had not mercifully snatched me, soul and 
 body, from the purlieus of ruin." 
 
 She stooped to receive the fond kiss of her benefactress, 
 and went into her own room. 
 
 Nearly an hour later she slowly descended the stairs, and 
 took her hat from the stand in the hall. As she adjusted it 
 on her head, and tied the ribbons behind her knot of hair, 
 Mr. Granville came out of the parlor and seized her hand. 
 16 
 
242 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Why will you torment me so cruelly ? I have been 
 waiting and watching for you, at least half an hour." 
 
 She haughtily took her fingers from his, and indignantly 
 drew herself up, — 
 
 "Mr. Granville presumes on his position as guest, to in- 
 trude upon some who do not desire his society. I was not 
 aware, sir, that I had any engagement with you." 
 
 " Forgive me, Salome ! How have I offended you ? If you 
 could realize how much pleasure your presence affords me, 
 you would not punish me by absenting yourself as you have 
 persistently done for three days past." 
 
 He bent his handsome face closer to hers, looking^ appeal- 
 ingly into her beautiful flashing eyes; but she put up her 
 hands to push him aside, and answered, — 
 
 " I shall be happy to entertain you in the evenings, when 
 the remainder of the household assemble in the parlor; and 
 will, with great pleasure, sing for you whenever Miss Muriel 
 will kindly oblige me by playing my accompaniments; but 
 I prefer to confine our acquaintance to such occasions." 
 
 " Will you not allow me the privilege of accompanying you 
 in the walk for which you seem prepared? " 
 
 " No, sir ; I respectfully decline your attendance." 
 
 She saw his cheek flush, and he said, hastily, — 
 
 " Salome, I shall begin to hope that you fear to trust your 
 own heart." 
 
 " Do not forget yourself, sir. If you knew where my heart 
 is housed, you would spare yourself the fruitless trouble, and 
 me the annoyance, of attentions and expressions of admira- 
 tion which I avail myself of this opportunity to assure you 
 are particularly disagreeable to me. I wish to treat you 
 courteously, as the guest of those under whose roof I am per- 
 mitted to reside, but 'thus far, and no farther,' must you 
 venture. Moreover, Mr. Granville, since we are merely com- 
 jparative strangers, I should be gratified if you will in future 
 do me the honor to recollect that it is one of my peculiarities, 
 — one of my idiosyncrasies, — ^to prefer that only those I re- 
 spect and love should call me Salome. Good afternoon, sir." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 243 
 
 She took her music-book, bowed coolly, and made her exit 
 through the front door, which she closed after her. 
 
 In the hammock that was suspended on the eastern side of 
 the piazza, Dr. Grey had thrown himsfelf to rest; and mean- 
 while, to search for some surgical operation recorded in one 
 of his books. 
 
 Just behind him a window opened from the hall, and to- 
 day, though a rose-colored shade was lowered, the sash had 
 been raised, and every word that was uttered in the passage 
 floated distinctly to him. 
 
 The whole conversation occurred so rapidly that he had 
 no opportunity of discovering his presence to the persons 
 within, and though he cleared his throat and coughed rathe, 
 spasmodically, his warning was unheeded by those for whom 
 it was intended. 
 
 He knew that Salome could not possibly have guessed his 
 proximity, as he was not accustomed to use this hammock, 
 and was completely shielded from observation; and, while 
 pained and surprised by Mr. Granville's dishonorable course, 
 which threatened life-long wretchedness for poor Muriel, Dr. 
 Grey's heart throbbed with joy at the assurance that Salome 
 was not so ungenerous as he had feared. Probably no other 
 human being would have so highly appreciated her conduct 
 on this occasion; and, as he mused, with his thumb and fore- 
 finger thrust between the leaves of the book, a glad smile broke 
 over his grave face. 
 
 " God bless the girl ! Her prayers and mine have not been 
 in vain, and she is putting under her feet the baser impulses 
 that mar her character. Granville is considered by the world 
 exceedingly handsome and agreeable, and many, — ^yes, the 
 majority of women, would have yielded, and indulged in a 
 'harmless flirtation,' where Salome stood firm. There was 
 something akin to the scornful ring of Eaehel's voice in that 
 child's tones, when she told XJerard he presumed on his posi- 
 tion as guest; and I will wager my hand that her large eyes 
 did not exactly resemble a dove's when she informed him it 
 was not his privilege to call her Salome. She has a fierce, 
 imperious, passionate temper, that goads her into mischief; 
 
244 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 but, after all, she is — she must be — nobler than I have some« 
 t^mes thought her. God grant it ! God bless her ! " 
 
 " But blame us women not, — if some appear 
 
 Too cold at times ; and some too gay and light. 
 Some griefs gnaw deep. Some woes are hard to bear. 
 Who knows the Past ? And who can judge us right ? " 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 "Doctor Geet, are you awake? Dr. Grey, here is a 
 note from ' Solitude,' and the messenger begs that you will 
 lose no time, as one of the servants is supposed to be 
 dying." 
 
 Salome had knocked twice at Dr. Grey's door, without 
 arousing him, and the third time she beat a tattoo that would 
 have broken even heavier slumbers than his. 
 
 " I am awake, and will strike a light in a moment." 
 
 She heard him stumbling about the room, and finally there 
 was a crash, as of a broken vase or goblet. 
 
 " What is the matter ? Can't you find your matches ? " 
 
 "No; some one has removed the box from its usual place, 
 and I am fumbling about at random, and smashing things 
 indiscriminately. Will you be so good as to bring me a 
 match?" 
 
 " I have a candle in my hand, which yon can take, while I 
 order Elbert to get your buggy ready." 
 
 " Thank you, Salome." 
 
 She placed the candle on the mat before his door, laid 
 the note beside it, and went down to the servants' rooms to 
 call the driver. 
 
 It was two o'clock, and Dr. Grey had come home only an 
 hour before, from a patient who resided at some distance. 
 
 Dressing himself as expeditiously as possible, he read the 
 blurred and crumpled note. 
 
 "Dr. Grey: For God's sake come as quick as possible. 
 I am afraid my mother is dying. 
 
 " EoBEET Maclean." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 245 
 
 Three days before, when he visited Elsie, he found her more 
 composed and comfortable than she had been for several 
 ■weeks, and Mrs. Gerome had seemed almost cheerful, as she 
 sat beside the bed, crimping the borders of the invalid's muslin 
 caps which the laundress had sent in, stiff and spotless. 
 
 Eecollecting Elsie's desire to confide something to him be- 
 fore her death, and dreading the effect which this sudden 
 termination of her life might have upon her mistress, in 
 whom he was daily becoming more deeply interested. Dr. 
 Grey hurried down stairs and met the orphan. 
 
 " Elbert is not quite ready, but will be at the door directly. 
 I told him the case was urgent." 
 
 " You are very considerate, Salome, and I am much obliged 
 for your thoughtf ulness ; though I regret that the messenger 
 waked you, instead of Eaehel or me. I have never before 
 known Rachel fail to hear the bell, and I was so weary that I 
 think a ten-inch columbiad would scarcely have aroused me." 
 
 " I was not asleep, — was sitting at my window ; and hearing 
 some one slam the gate and gallop up the avenue, I went to 
 the door and opened it, to prevent the ringing of the bell 
 and waking of the entire household." 
 
 " You should have been asleep four hours ago, and I had 
 no idea you were still up, when I came home. There was no 
 light in your room. Are you quite weU ? " 
 
 " Thank you, I am quite well." 
 
 She was dressed as he had seen her at dinner, and now, as 
 she stood resting one hand on the balustrade of the stairway, 
 he thought she looked paler and more weary than he had 
 ever observed her. 
 
 The scarlet spray of pelargonium had withered from the 
 heat of her head, where it had rested all the evening, and the 
 large creamy Grand Duke jasmine fastened at her throat by 
 a sprig of coral, was drooping and fading, but still exhaled 
 its strong delicious perfume. 
 
 "Your appearance contradicts your assertion. Is your 
 wakefulness attributable to any anxiety or trouble which I ca» i 
 vemove ?" « 
 
246 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 " No, sir. I hear Elbert opening the gate. Who is sick at 
 'Solitude'?" 
 
 " The servant who was so severely injured many months 
 ago, by a fall from a carriage, has grown suddenly worse." 
 
 Salome accompanied him to the front door, in order to 
 lock it after his departure ; and, as he descended the steps, he 
 turned and said, in a subdued voice, — 
 
 "You have probably heard that Mrs. Gerome is a very 
 peculiar, — indeed, a decidedly eccentric person ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; it is reported that she is almost a lunatic." 
 
 " Which is totally false. She is very sensitive, and shrinks 
 from strangers, and consequently has no friends here. If 1 
 should find Elsie dying, or if I need you, I wish you to come 
 promptly. It may be necessary to have some one beside the 
 household, and you are the only person I can trust. Try to 
 go to sleep immediately, for I may send for you very early in 
 the morning." 
 
 " I shall be ready to come when I am needed." 
 
 The buggy rolled up to the steps, and Dr. Grey sprang into 
 it and drove swiftly down the avenue. 
 
 Salome crept softly back up stairs, but Miss Jane called 
 out, — 
 
 " Who is there, in the hall ? What is the matter? " 
 
 The girl opened the door, and put her head inside. 
 
 " Dr. Grey has been called to see a sick woman at ' Solitude,' 
 and I have just locked the door after him." 
 
 " Why could not Eachel do that, and save you from coming 
 down stairs ? What time of night is it ? " 
 
 " About half -past two. Ea<jhel is asleep. Good-night." 
 
 "'Solitude,' did you say?" 
 
 " Yes, madam." 
 
 " Well, if people will persist in burrowing in that unlucky 
 den, they must take the consequences. TJlpian, poor fellow, 
 will be completely worn out. Good-night, dear; don't get up 
 to breakfast, if you feel sleepy." 
 
 Salome went to her own room, changed her dress, laid 
 gloves, hat, and shawl in readiness upon the bed, and threw 
 herself down on the lounge to rest, and if possible to sleep. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 24? 
 
 When Dr. Grey reached " Solitude," he found Eobert Mac- 
 lean pacing the paved walk that led to the gate. 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! Have you come at last ? It seems to me I 
 could have crawled twice to your house, since Jerry came 
 back." 
 
 " What change has taken place in j^our mother's condition? 
 She was better than usual, when I saw her last." 
 
 "We thought she was getting along very well, till all of 
 a sudden she became speechless. Go in, sir; don't stop to 
 knock" 
 
 Mrs. Gerome sat at the bedside, mechanically chafing one of 
 the hands that lay on the coverlet, and the face of the dying 
 woman was not more ghastly than the one which bent over 
 her. As Dr. Grey approached, the mistress of the house 
 rose, and put out her hands towards him, with a wistful, 
 pleading, childish manner, that touched him inexpressibly. 
 
 " Do not let her die." 
 
 He leaned over the pillow, and put his finger on the 
 scarcely palpable pulse. 
 
 " Elsie, tell me where or how you suffer." 
 
 A ray of recognition leaped up in her sunken eyes, and she 
 looked at him with a yearning, imploring expression, that was 
 pitiable and distressing indeed. 
 
 He saw that she was struggling to articulate, but failing 
 in the effort, a groan escaped her, and tears gathered and 
 trickled down her pinched face. He smoothed her contracted 
 forehead, and said, soothingly, — 
 
 " Elsie, you feel that I wiU do all that I can to relieve you. 
 You can not talk to me, but you know me ? " 
 
 She inclined her head slightly, and in examining her he 
 discovered that only one side was completely paralyzed, and 
 that she could still partially control her left arm. When he 
 had done all that medical skill could suggest, he stood at her 
 side, and she suddenly grasped his fingers. 
 
 He put his face close to hers, and observing her tears start 
 afresh, whispered, — 
 
 " You wish to tell me something before you die ? " 
 
248 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 A gurgling sound, and a faint motion of her lips was the 
 only reply of which she was capable. 
 
 He placed a pencil between her fingers, but she could not 
 use it intelligibly, and he noticed that her eyes moved from 
 his to those of her mistress, as if to indicate that she was 
 the subject of the desired conversation. 
 
 It was distressing to witness her efforts to communicate 
 her wishes, while the tears dripped on her pillow ; and unable 
 to endure the sight of her anguish, Mrs. Gerome sank on her 
 knees and hid her face in the coverlet. 
 
 Dr. Grey gently lifted Elsie's arm and placed her hand on 
 the head of her mistress, and the expression of her face as- 
 sured him he had correctly interpreted her feelings. Some- 
 thing still disturbed her, and he suggested, — 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, put your hand in hers." 
 
 She silently obeyed him, and then the old woman's eyes 
 looked once more intently into his. He could not conjecture 
 her meaning, until, in feeling her pulse, he found that she 
 was trying to touch his fingers with hers. 
 
 He slipped his own into the palm where Mrs. Gerome's lay, 
 and, by a last great effort, she pressed them feebly together. 
 
 Even then, the touch of those white, soft fingers, thrilled 
 his heart as no other hand had ever done, and he said, — 
 
 "Elsie, you mean that you leave her in my care? That 
 you put her in my hands ? That you trust her to me ? " 
 
 It was impossible to mistake the satisfied expression that 
 flashed over her countenance. 
 
 "I accept the trust. Elsie, I promise you that while I 
 live she shall never want a true and faithful friend. I will 
 try to take care of her body, and pray for her soul. I will 
 do all that you would have done." 
 
 Once more, but very faintly, she pressed the two hands ^e 
 liad clasped, and closed her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, doctor, can't you save her ? " sobbed Eobert. 
 
 In the solemn silence that ensued Mrs. Gerome lifted her 
 face, and Dr. Grey never forgot the wild, imploring gaze, that 
 met his. He understood its import, and shook his head. She 
 rose instantly, moved away from the bed, and left the room. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 249 
 
 For nearly an hour Dr. Grey hung over the prostrate form, 
 which lay with closed eyes, and gradually sank into the 
 heavy lethargic sleep, from which he knew she could never 
 awake. 
 
 Leaving her to the care of Robert and two female servants, 
 he went in search of the mistress of the silent and dreary 
 house. 
 
 Taking a lamp from the escritoire in the back parlor, he 
 went from room to room, finding nowhere the object he 
 sought, and at length became alarmed. As he stood in the 
 front door, perplexed and anxious, the thought presented itself 
 that she might have gone down to the beach. He went back 
 to the apartment occupied by the dying woman, — felt once 
 more the sinking pulse, and took a last look at the altered 
 and almost rigid face. 
 
 "Eobert, I can do her no good. Her soul will very soon 
 be with her God." 
 
 " Oh, sir, don't leave her ! Don't give her up, while there 
 is life in her body ! " cried the son, grasping the doctor's 
 sleeve. 
 
 Dr. Grey put his hand on the Scotchman's shoulder, and 
 whispered, — 
 
 " I am going to hunt for Mrs. Gerome. She is not in the 
 house. I may be able to render her some service, but your 
 mother is beyond all human aid." 
 
 " Is there any pulse ? " 
 
 " It is so feeble now, I can scarcely count it." 
 
 "Please, doctor, stay here by her while she breathes. 
 Don't desert the dear soul. My poor mother ! " 
 
 Eobert lost all control of himself, and wept like a child. 
 
 Loth to forsake him in this hour of direst trial. Dr. Grey 
 leaned against the bed, and for some moments watched the 
 irregular convulsive heaving of the woman's chest. 
 
 " Oh, sir, if my mistress hadn't a heart of stone, she would 
 have let her die peacefully. She might at least have granted 
 her d3ang prayer." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "All of yesterday afternoon she pleaded with her fo be 
 
250 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 iaptized. My mother — God bless her dear soul ! — my mother 
 iold her that she could not consent to die until she saw her 
 baptized; and, with the tears pouring down her poor face, 
 she begged and prayed that I might fetch the minister from 
 town, and that she might see the ceremony performed. But 
 my mistress walked up and down the floor, and said^ ' Never ! 
 never ! I have done with mockeries. I have washed my hands 
 of all that,--long, long ago.' And now — it is too late; and 
 my poor mother can never — God be merciful to us ! is it all 
 over ? " 
 
 Dr. Grey raised the head, but the breathing was imper- 
 ceptible and, after a little wbile, he softly pressed; down the 
 lids that were partially lifted from the glazed eyes, and quitted 
 the room. 
 
 His buggy stood at the rear gate, and the driver was 
 asleep, but his master's voice aroused him. 
 
 " Elbert, go home, and ask Miss Salome please to come over 
 as soon as you can drive her here." 
 
 The east was purple and gold, the sea a purling mass of 
 molten amber, and only two stars were visible low in the west, 
 where a waning moon swung on the edge of the distant misty 
 hills. The air was chill, and a silvery haze hung above the 
 moaning waves, and partially veiled the windings of the 
 beach. Under the trees that clustered so closely around the 
 house, the gloom of night still lingered like a pall, but as Dr. 
 Grey approached the terrace, he felt the pure fresh presence 
 of the new day. Up and down the sands his eyes wandered, 
 hoping to discern a woman's figure, but no living thing was 
 visible, except the flamingo and yellow pheasant still 
 perched where they had spent the night, on the stone bal- 
 ustrade that bordered the terrace. He took off his hat to 
 enjoy the crystalline atmosphere, and while he faced the 
 brightening east, the sharp peculiar bark of the Arab grey- 
 hound broke the solemn silence that brooded over sea and 
 land. 
 
 The sound proceeded from the boat-house, and he hastened 
 towards it, startling a mimic army of crabs and fiddlers that 
 had not yet ended their nightly marauding. The tide was 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 251 
 
 higher than usual at this early hour, and the waves were break- 
 ing sullenly against the stone piers. 
 
 As Dr. Grey ascended the iron steps leading to the pavilion, 
 the dog growled and showed his teeth, but the visitor suc- 
 ceeded in partially winning him over, and now passed un- 
 molested into the circular room. A cushioned seat extended 
 a.round the wall, where windows opened at the four points 
 of the compass; and on the round table in the centre of the 
 marble-tiled floor lay a telescope. 
 
 At the eastern window sat Mrs. Gerome, with her head 
 resting on her crossed arms. Although Dr. Grey's steps 
 echoed heavily, as he trod the damp mosaic where the mist 
 had condensed, she gave no evidence of having discovered his 
 presence until he stood close beside her. Then she raised one 
 hand, with a quick gesture of caution and silence. He sat 
 down near her, and watched the countenance that was fully 
 exposed to his scrutiny. 
 
 No tears had dimmed the wide, mournful, almost despair- 
 ing eyes, that gazed with strange intentness over the amber 
 sea, at the golden radiance that heralded the coming sun ; and 
 every line and moulding of her delicate features seemed cold 
 and rigid enough for a cenotaph. Even the lips were still and 
 compressed, and a bluish shadow lay about their dimpled 
 corners, and under the heavy jet eyelashes. Her silver comb 
 had become loosened, and was finally dragged down by the 
 coil of hair that slipped slowly until it fell upon the morocco 
 cushion of the seat, and the glistening waves of gray hair 
 rolled around her shoulders, and rippled low on her brow. 
 Sea fog had dampened and sea wind tossed this mass of white 
 locks, till it made a singular burnished frame for the wan 
 face that looked out hopeless and painfully quiet. 
 
 Her silk robe de chambre of leaden gray, bordered with 
 blue, was unbuttoned at the throat, and showed its faultless 
 curve and contour; while the full, open sleeves, blown back 
 by the strong breeze, bared the snowy arms, where one of the 
 jet serpents that formed her bracelets, pressed so heavily on 
 the white flesh that a purple band was visible when the hand 
 was raised and the bracelet slipped back. 
 
252 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Watching her intently, Dr. Grey could not detect the slight- 
 est quiver of nerve or muscle; and she breathed so low and 
 softly that he might .have doubted whether she was really 
 conscious, if he had not correctly interpreted the strained ex- 
 pression of the unwinking gray eyes whose pupils contracted 
 as the sky flushed and kindled. 
 
 On the floor lay a dainty handkerchief, and stooping to 
 pick it up, he inhaled the delicate, tenacious perfume of tube- 
 rose, which, blended with orange-flowers, he had frequently 
 discovered when standing near her. 
 
 Placing it within reach of her fingers, he said, very gently 
 and more tenderly than he was aware of, — 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, — " 
 
 " Hush ! I know what you have come to tell me. I knew 
 it when I came away. Let me alone, now." 
 
 She raised her head, and turned her eyes to meet his, and he 
 shuddered at the hard, bitter look, that came swiftly over the 
 blanched features. For some seconds they gazed full at each 
 other, and Dr. Grey's eyes filled with a mist that made hers 
 seem large and radiant as wintry stars. 
 
 He knew then that his heart was no longer his own, — that 
 this wretched, solitary woman, had installed herself in its 
 most sacred penetralia ; that she had not suddenly, but gradu- 
 ally, become the dearest object that earth possessed. 
 
 He did not ask himself whether she filled all his fastidious 
 and lofty requirements, — ^whether she rose fuU-statured to his 
 noble standard, — whether reverence, perfect confidence, and 
 unqualified admiration would follow in the footsteps of mere 
 affection. He neither argued, nor trifled, nor deceived him- 
 self, but bravely confessed to his own true soul, that, for the 
 first time in his life, he loved warmly and tenderly the only 
 woman whose touch had power to stir his quiet, steady pulses. 
 
 He had not intended to surrender his affections to the cus- 
 tody of any one until reason and judgment had analyzed, 
 weighed, and cordially endorsed the wisdom of his choice; 
 and now, although surprised at the rashness with which his 
 heart, hitherto so tractable and docile, vehemently declared 
 allegiance to a new sovereign, he did not attempt to mask or 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 253 
 
 ▼arnish the truth. Thoroughly comprehending the fact that 
 it was neither friendship nor compassion, he gravely looked 
 the new feeling in the face, and acknowledged it, — the tyrant 
 which sooner or later wields the sceptre in every human heart. 
 
 Had he faithfully kept his compact with himself, and fol- 
 lowed the injunction of Joubert, " Choose for a wife only the 
 woman, whom, were she a man, you would choose for your 
 friend"? 
 
 Because he found a fascination in her society, should he 
 conclude that it was a healthful atmosphere for his sturdy, 
 exacting, uncompromising nature? 
 
 To-day he swept aside all these protests and questions, post- 
 poning the arraignment of his heart before the tribunal of 
 slighted and indignant reason, and allowed the newly mitred 
 pontiff to lead him whither she chose. 
 
 Unconscious of the emotions that brought an unusual glow 
 to his face and light to his eyes, Mrs. Gerome had dropped 
 her head once more on her arms, and the weary, despairing 
 expression of her countenance, as she looked at the gilded 
 horizon, where sea and sky seemed divided only by a belt of 
 liquid gold, — ^might have served for the face of some careless 
 Vestal, who, having allowed the fire to expire on the altar 
 she had sworn to guard sleeplessly, sat hopeless, desolate, and 
 doomed, — ^watching from the dim, cheerless temple of Hestia, 
 the advent of that sun whose rays alone could rekindle the 
 sacred flame, and which, ere its setting, would witness the exe- 
 cution of her punishment. 
 
 Dr. Grey bent over her, and said, — 
 
 "I came here in quest of you, hoping to persuade you to 
 return to the hoiuse." 
 
 " No. You came to tell me that Elsie is dead. You came 
 to break the news as gently as possible, — and to pity and try 
 to comfort me. You are very good, I dare say ; but I wish to 
 be alone." 
 
 " You have been too long alone, and I can not consent to 
 leave you here." 
 
 At the sound of his subdued voice, she turned her face to- 
 wards him, and, for a moment, — 
 
254 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " A strange slow smile grew into lier eyes, 
 As though from a great way oflE it came 
 And was weary ere down to her lips it fluttered. 
 
 And tm'ned into a sigh, or some soft name 
 Whose syllables sounded likest sighs 
 Half-smothered in sorrow before they were uttered." 
 
 "Dr. Grey, my loneliness transcends all parallels, and is 
 beyond remedy. Why should I not stay here ? All places art 
 alike to me, now. That cold, silent corpse at the house, is 
 not Elsie; and, since she has been taken, I shall be utterly 
 alone, go where I may." 
 
 She shivered, and he picked up a crape shawl lying in a 
 heap under the table, and wrapped it around her. The soft 
 folds were damp, and, as he lifted the veil of hair, to draw 
 the shawl closer about her shoulders and throat, he felt that 
 it was moist from the humid atmosphere. 
 
 " Sir, I am not cold, — ^I wish I were. It is useless to wrap 
 up my body so warmly, and leave my heart shivering untO 
 death freezes it utterly." 
 
 Dr. Grey took her beautiful white hands iahis warm palms, 
 and held them firmly. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, you do not know what is best for you, and 
 must be guided by one who will prove himself your truest 
 friend." 
 
 " Don't mock my misery ! I never had but one friend, and 
 henceforth must live friendless. I knew what was before me, 
 and therefore I dreaded this dark, dark day, and begged you 
 to save her. She was the world to me. She supplied the 
 place of father, mother, husband, society, and because God 
 saw that her loving sympathy and care made my existence 
 a trifle less purgatorial than He saw fit to render it. He took 
 her away. My poor Elsie would quit the highest throne in 
 heaven to come back to her desolate, dependent child ; for only 
 she knew how and why I trusted and leaned upon her. Ah, 
 God! it is hard that I who have so long shunned strangers 
 should be at their mercy, in the last hour of trial that can be 
 devised by fiends, or allowed by heaven to afHict me." 
 
 She struggled to free her hands and hide her face, but her 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 255 
 
 companion clasped them in one of his, and attempted to draw 
 her head down to his shoulder. 
 
 " No, sir ! The grave is the only resting-place for my poor, 
 accursed head. Do not touch me." 
 
 She shrank as far as possible from him, and her voice, 
 hitherto so firm and dry, trembled. 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, I intend to take Elsie's place. You had 
 confidence in her sagacity and penetration, and know that she 
 was cautious in all things. During her long illness she 
 studied my character and antecedents, and finally begged me 
 to take you under my guardianship when she could no longer 
 watch over you. She was importunate in her appeal, and to 
 comfort and compose her I gave her a solemn promise that at 
 her death I would take her place. You may deem me in- 
 trusive, and perhaps presumptuously impertinent, but time 
 proves all things, and, after a little while, you will cling to 
 me as you so long clung to her. I shall wait patiently for 
 your confidence ; shall deserve, — and then exact it. You need 
 a strong arm to curb and guide you, — you need a true, honest 
 heart, to sympathize with your sorrows and difficulties, — you 
 need a fearless friend to defend you from the assaults of gossip 
 and malice; and all these, if God spares my life, I am re- 
 solved to be to you. You can not repulse, or offend, or chill, 
 or wound me, for my word is sacredly pledged to the dead; 
 and, by the grace of God, I will strictly and fully redeem it, 
 when we meet at the last day." 
 
 The earnestness of his manner, the grave resolution of his 
 tone, and the invincible fearlessness with which his clear, 
 calm, penetrating eyes, looked into hers, seemed momentarily 
 to overawe her; and she sat quite still, pondering his un- 
 expected words. Pressing her cold fingers very gently, he 
 continued, — 
 
 " Elsie had such confidence in my discretion, and friendly 
 interest in your welfare, that she requested me to warn her of 
 her approaching dissolution in order that she might com- 
 municate something, which she assured me she desired to con- 
 fide to me before her death. The paralysis of her tongue pre- 
 yented the fulfilment of her wish, but you saw how keenly she 
 
266 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 suffered from her inability to utter what was pressing on her 
 heart. You can not have forgotten that her last act was to 
 put your hand in mine, and you heard my solemn acceptance 
 of the charge committed to me." 
 
 An expression of dread that bordered on horror, came over 
 her ghastly face, and her hands grasped his, almost spasmodi- 
 cally. 
 
 " Did she hint what she wished to tell you ? Did you guess 
 it all?" 
 
 "No. Whatever her secret may have been, it passed un- 
 uttered into that realm where all mysteries are solved. I 
 neither know nor surmise the nature of her desired revelation, 
 but some day when you fully understand me, I shall ask you 
 to tell me that which she believed I ought to know. My dear 
 madam, when I come to you and demand your confidence, I 
 have no fear that you will withhold it." 
 
 She closed her eyes as if to shut out some painful vision, 
 and drooped her head lower, till it rested on her chest. 
 
 The sun flashed up from his ocean bed, and, as the first 
 beams fell on the woman's hair, Dr. Grey softly passed his 
 broad white hand over its perfumed masses, redolent of orange 
 flowers. 
 
 "The air is too damp for you. Come with me to the 
 house." 
 
 She did not heed his words, and perhaps his touch on her 
 head recalled some exquisitely painful memory, for she shook 
 it off, and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Doubtless, like the remainder of the curious herd, you are 
 wondering at my 'crown of glory,' — and conjecturing what 
 dire tragedy bequeathed it to me. Sir, — 
 
 ' My hair was black, but white my life : 
 The colors in exchange are cast 1 
 The white upon my hair is rife, 
 The black upon my life has passed.' 
 
 Dr. Grey, I understand you; but you need not stay here to 
 keep guard over me, as if I w<jre an imbecile or a refugee from 
 
UmTL DEATB US DO PART. 25T 
 
 an insane asylum. That I am not the one or the other, iS 
 attributable to the fact that my powers of endurance are al- 
 most fabulous. You fear that in my loneliness and complete 
 isolation I may turn coward, at the last ordeal I am put 
 through, — and, like Zeno cry out, and in a fit of desperation 
 strangle myself? Dr. Grey, make yourself easy. I do not 
 love my Creator so devotedly that I must needs hurry into his 
 presence before He sees proper to send me a summons." 
 
 "I am afraid to leave you here, for any woman who does 
 not love and reverence her Maker, requires a guardian. Of 
 course you will do as you like, but I shall remain here as long 
 as you do." 
 
 He rose, and crossing his arms on his chest, b^gan to walk 
 about the pavilion. She caught up her hair, twisted it hastily 
 into a knot, and secured it with her comb. As she did so, a 
 small cluster of double violets dropped into her lap. She had 
 gathered them the preceding afternoon, had carried them as 
 an offering to Elsie, who insisted that she should wear them 
 in her hair, "they looked so bonnie just behind the little 
 roguish ear." At her request Mrs. Gerome had placed them 
 at the side of her head, and the old woman made her lean 
 down that she might smell them, and leave a kiss on their blue 
 petals. Now the sight of the withered flowers melted her icy 
 composure, and, as she lifted the little crushed, faded bouquet, 
 and pressed it against her wan cheek, a moan broke from her 
 colorless lips. 
 
 " Oh, Elsie, — Elsie ! How could you desert me ? You knew 
 you were all I had to love and trust, — and how could you die 
 and leave me alone, — utterly alone, in this miserable world 
 that has so cruelly injured me ! " 
 
 She clasped her hands passionately over the flowers, and the 
 motion caused the sapphire ring, which was now much too 
 large, to slip from the thin finger, and roll ringing across 
 the marble floor. 
 
 Dr. Grey picked it up, and as he replaced it, drew her hand 
 under his arm, and led her out of the boat-house. They 
 walked slowly, and as they ascended the steps, he saw his 
 "tuggy approaching the side gate. 
 17 
 
258 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Opening the parlor door, he drew his companion into the 
 room, where the Psyche lamp still burned brightly. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, will you trust me ? " 
 
 He had hoped that a return to the house would touch her 
 heart and make her weep, but the cold, dry glitter of her eyes 
 disappointed him. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I trust neither men nor women, nor even the 
 angels in heaven; for one of them turned serpent, and if 
 tradition be true, made earth the dismal 'Bochin' I have 
 found it." 
 
 She turned from him, and threw herself wearily upon the 
 divan that filled the recess of the oriel window. 
 
 Securing the door of the library, he extinguished the lamp, 
 and closing the parlor went out to meet Salome. 
 
 OHAPTEE XX. 
 
 " Doctor Geet, you look weary and anxious." 
 
 " I feel so, for this has been a memorable nifjht." 
 
 " The servant who opened the gate for us said that the poor 
 old woman died about daybreak." 
 
 " Yes ; when I arrived I found her speechless, and of course 
 could no nothing but watch her die. Come down this walk, I 
 wish to talk to you before you go into the house." 
 
 He pointed to a serpentine walk, overarched by laurustinus, 
 and they had proceeded some yards before he spoke again. 
 
 "Salome, I believe you told me that you had met Mrs. 
 Gerome ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; once upon the cliffs, a mile below, I saw her for 
 a few moments." 
 
 " She is a very eccentric woman." 
 
 " i should judge so, from her appearance." 
 
 " Her life seems to have been blighted by early griefs, and 
 she has grown cynical and misanthropic. Loving no one but 
 her faithful and devoted nurse, she has completely isolated 
 herself, and consequently the death of this servant — cam- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 259 
 
 panion — nay, foster-mother — is a terrible blow to her. I 
 ■want your promise that what you may hear or witness in this 
 house shall not travel beyond its walls to feed the worse-thau- 
 TJgolino hunger of never-satiated scandal and gossip." 
 
 Salome's brow contracted and darkened. 
 
 " Do you class me among newsmongers and character- 
 cannibals ? " 
 
 " If I did, you certainly would not be here at this instant. 
 I sent for you to come and take my place temporarily, as I 
 am compelled to see a patient many miles distant, who is 
 dangerously ill. The majority of women might go away, and 
 comment upon the occurrences of this melancholy day, but I 
 wish to keep sacred all that Mrs. Gerome desires to screen 
 from public gaze and animadversion. Because she is not fond 
 of society, it revenges itself by circulating reports detrimental 
 to the owner of a house which is elegantly furnished, not for 
 popular praise, but solely for her own comfort and gratifi- 
 cation. While I regard her course as very deplorable, and 
 particularly impolitic for one so young and unprotected, I am 
 totally unacquainted with the reasons that control her; and, 
 in this hour of grief and bitterness, I earnestly desire to 
 shield her from intrusion and impertinent scrutiny." 
 
 " In other words, you wish me to have eyes and yet see not, 
 — and having ears to hear not ? You must indeed have little 
 confidence in my good sense, and still less in my feminine sym- 
 pathy for the afflicted, if you suppose that under existing cir- 
 cumstances I could come to the house of mourning to collect 
 materials to be rolled as sweet morsels under the slanderous 
 tongues, that already wag so industriously concerning ' Soli- 
 tude ' and its solitary mistress. Verily, I occupy a lofty niche 
 in your estimation, and it would doubtless be pardonably 
 prudent in you to reconsider, and bid Elbert take me home 
 with all possible dispatch, before I see Fatima or Blue- 
 beard." 
 
 " When will you cease to be childish, and remember that a 
 'ronan's work lies before you ? " 
 
 " You may date that desirable transmogrification troxa the 
 hour when you cease to stir up the mud and dregs in my 
 
260 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 nature, by doubting the possibility that they will ever settle, 
 and leave a pure medium between your soul and mine. Just 
 so soon, — and no sooner." 
 
 " My young friend, you are too sensitive. I now offer you 
 the strongest proof of confidence that I can ever hope to com- 
 mand. Will you take charge of this stricken household in my 
 absence, and not only superintend the arrangements necessary 
 for the funeral, but watch over Mrs. Gerome and see that no 
 one disturbs her ? " 
 
 " You may trust me to execute her wishes and your orders." 
 
 " Thank you. There certainly is no one except you whom I 
 would trust in this emergency. One thing more; if Mrs. 
 Gerome leaves the house, do not lose sight of her. It may be 
 necessary to keep a very strict surveillance over ier, and I 
 will return as soon as possible, and relieve you." 
 
 As they entered the house, Salome said, — 
 
 " You will stop at home and get your breakfast ? " 
 
 " No, I shall not have time." 
 
 " Let me make you a cup of coffee before you start." 
 
 " Thank you, it is not necessary ; and besides, the house is 
 in such confusion that it would be difficult to obtain anything. 
 Come with me." 
 
 She followed him into the dim room, where the tall but 
 emaciated form of Elsie Maclean had been dressed for its last 
 long sleep. The housemaid sat at the bedside, and Eobert 
 stood at one of the windows. 
 
 The first passionate burst of grief had spent itself, and the 
 son was Tery calm. 
 
 At a sign from Dr. Grey he came forward, and bowed to the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Eobert, I am obliged to be absent for several hours, and 
 Miss Owen will remain until I return. If you need advice or 
 assistance come to her, and do not disturb Mrs. Gerome, who is 
 lying on a sofa in the parlor, I will drive through town, and 
 send your minister out immediately." 
 
 " You are very good, sir. Do you think the funeral should 
 take place before to-morrow ? I want to speak to my mistress 
 about it." 
 
UNTIL DEATH V8 DO PART. 261 
 
 " For her sake, it is advisable that it should not be delayed 
 beyond this afternoon. It is very harrowing to know that the 
 body is lying here, and I think she would prefer to leave all 
 these matters to you. It would be better for all parties to 
 have the funeral ceremonies ended this evening." 
 
 "I suppose, sir, you know that my poor mother will be 
 buried here, in the grounds." 
 
 "For what reason? The cemetery is certainly the best 
 place." 
 
 Robert handed a slip of paper to Dr. Grey, who read, in a 
 remarkably beautiful chirograph, the following words, — 
 
 "Eobert, it was your mother's desire and is my wish that 
 she should be buried near that cluster of deodar cedars, just 
 beyond the mound. Send for an undertaker, and for the 
 minister who visited her during her illness ; and let everything 
 be done as if it were my funeral instead of hers. Put some 
 getanium leaves and violets in her dear hands, and upon her 
 breast." 
 
 " When did you receive this ? " asked Dr. Grey. 
 
 "A moment ago, Phoebe, the cook, brought it to me from 
 my mistress." 
 
 " Of course you have no choice, but must comply with her 
 wishes and those of the dead. Still, I regret this decision." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; it is ill luck to keep a grave near the eaves of a 
 house, and it will be bad for my mistress to have it always in 
 sight; for she mopes enough at best, and does not sleep 
 o' nights, and the Lord only knows what will become of her 
 with my poor mother's corpse and coffin within ten yards of 
 her window. Sir, how does she take this awful blow? It 
 comforted me to know you were with her." 
 
 " She bears this affliction as she seems to have endured all 
 others that have overtaken her, in a spirit of rebellious bitter- 
 ness and defiance. I am afraid that the excitement will 
 seriously injure her. Salome, I will return as early as the 
 safety of a patient will permit." 
 
 Eobert followed the doctor to his buggy, to consult him 
 •with reference to some of the sad details of the impending 
 fvmeral, and after a hasty glance at the placid countenance of 
 
262 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the dead, Salome went back to the hall, and sat down opposite 
 to the parlor door, which had been pointed out to her. Her 
 nerves were strong, healthy, and firm, but the presence of 
 death, the profound silence that reigned, the chill atmosphere, 
 and dreary aspect of the house, — all conspired to oppress her 
 heart. 
 
 Through the open door she could see the ever restless sea, 
 and hear its endless murmuring monotone, and imagination 
 seizing the ill-omened legends she had heard recounted con- 
 cerning this spot, peopled the corners of the hall with phan- 
 toms, and every flitting shadow on the lawn became a spectre. 
 
 Now and then the servants^ — two middle-aged women — 
 passed softly to and fro, and twice Robert crossed the passage, 
 but not a sound issued from the parlor; and once, when 
 Phcebe came with her mistress's breakfast on a waiter, and 
 tried the bolt, she found the door locked. She knocked several 
 times, but receiving no answer went quietly back to the 
 kitchen. 
 
 Weary of sitting on one of the hard, uncomfortable walnut 
 chairs, that stood with its high carved back close to the wall, 
 Salome rose, and amused herself by studying the engravings 
 that surrounded her. In the midst of her investigations she 
 was startled by a loud, doleful, blood-curdling sound, that 
 seemed to proceed from some spot immediately beneath the 
 floor of the hall. It was different from anything she had ever 
 heard before, but resembled the prolonged howl of a dog, and 
 rose and fell on the air like a cry from some doomed spirit. 
 
 Robert came out of the room which his mother had always 
 occupied, and, as he passed Salome, she asked,— 
 
 " What is the matter ? What is the meaning of that hor- 
 rible noise ? " 
 
 " Only the greyhound howling at the dead that he knows is 
 lying over his head. Ah, ma'am ! The poor brute sees what 
 we can't see, and his death-baying is awful." 
 
 " Where is he ? The sound seems to come through the 
 floor." 
 
 " He is so savage that I was afraid he would hurt some of 
 the strangers who will come here to-day, so I chained him iu 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 263 
 
 tte basement. Hist, ma'am ! Did you ever hear anything so 
 dreadful ? It raises the hair off my head." 
 
 He went down stairs, and the howling, which was caused by 
 the fact that the dog was hungry and unaccustomed to being 
 chained, ceased as soon as he was set free. Ere long Eobert 
 came back, followed by the greyhound, whose collar he grasped 
 firmly. At sight of Salome he growled and plunged towards 
 her, but Eobert was on the alert, and held him down. Lead- 
 ing him to the parlor door, the gardener knocked, and put his 
 mouth to the key-hole. 
 
 "If you please, ma'am, will you let Greyhound in? It 
 won't do to leave him at large, and when I chain him he al- 
 most lifts the roof with his howls." 
 
 No reply reached Salome's strained ears, but the door was 
 opened sufficiently to admit the dog, who eagerly bounded in, 
 and then the click of the lock once more barred intrusion; 
 ,and when the joyful barking had ceased, all grew silent once 
 more. 
 
 From a basket of fresh Bowers brought in by the boy who 
 assisted Eobert, Salome selected the white ones and made a 
 wreath, which she laid aside and sprinkled; then gathering 
 some rose and nutmeg geranium-leaves, and a few violets 
 blooming in jars that stood on the gallery, she cautiously 
 glided into the chamber of death, and arranged them in 
 Elsie's rigid hands. 
 
 Soon after, the undertaker and minister arrived, and while 
 they conferred with Eobert concerning the burial service, the 
 girl went back to her vigil before the parlor door, and en- 
 deavored to divert her thoughts by looking into a volume of 
 poems that lay on the hall table. The book opened at 
 " Macromicros," where a brilliant verbena was crushed be- 
 tween the leaves, and delicate undulating pencil-lines enclosed 
 the passage beginning, — 
 
 " O woman, woman, with face so pale 1 
 Pale woman, weaving away 
 A frustrate life at a lifeless loom." 
 
 Slowly the hours wore away, and at noon Elsie's body was 
 
264 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 placed in the cofiSn and left on a table in the room opposits 
 the parlor. 
 
 It was two o'clock when Dr. Grey came up Ihe steps, look- 
 ing more fatigued than Salome had ever seen him. He sat 
 down beside her on the gallery, and sighed as he caught a 
 glimpse of the men who were bricking up the grave that 
 yawned on the right hand side of the lawn. 
 
 " Where is Mrs. Gerome ? " 
 
 "In the parlor. Once I heard her pacing the floor very 
 rapidly, and saying something to her dog. Since then — two 
 hours ago-T^not a sound has reached me." 
 
 "She has taken no food?" 
 
 " No, sir. The servant who prepared her breakfast knocked 
 twice at the door, but was refused admittance." 
 
 Dr. Grey went into the hall, and rapped vigorously on the 
 door, but there was no movement within. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, please permit me to speak to you for a few 
 minutes. If it were not necessary, I would not disturb you." 
 
 The appeal produced no effect ; and, without hesitating, he 
 walked to the door of the library or rear parlor, — took the key 
 from his pocket, opened it, and entered. 
 
 The dog was asleep on the velvet rug before the hearth, 
 and his mistress sat at her escritoire, with her arms resting on 
 the blue desk, and her face hidden upon them. A number of 
 letters and papers were scattered about, and, in an open 
 drawer a silver casket was visible, with a pearl key in its 
 lock. 
 
 Before the marble Harpocrates stood two slender violet- 
 colored Venetian glasses, representing tulips, and filled with 
 fuchsias and clematis that were dropping their faded velvet 
 petals, and the atmosphere was sweet with the breath of carna- 
 tions and mignonette blooming in the south window. 
 
 Dr. Grey hoped that Mrs. Gerome had fallen asleep; but 
 when he bent over her, he saw in the mirror above her that the 
 large, bright eyes were gazing vacantly into the recess of the 
 desk. 
 
 She noticed his image reflected in the glass, and instantly 
 sat upright, spreading her hands over her papers as if ta 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 265 
 
 screen them. He drew a chair near hers, and put his finger 
 on her pulse, which throbbed so rapidly he could scarcely 
 count it. 
 
 " Have you slept at all, since I left you this morning? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 "You promised that you would not attempt to destroy 
 yourself." 
 
 "I have kept my word." 
 
 " Yes ; you ' keep it to our ear, and break it to our hope,' 
 for you must know that unless you take some rest and re- 
 freshment, you will be seriously ill." 
 
 He saw a spark leap up in her eyes, like a bubble tossed 
 into sunshine by a sudden ripple, and she shook back the hair 
 that seemed to oppress her. 
 
 " Do not tease and torment me, now. I want to be quiet." 
 
 " My task is an unpleasant one, therefore I shall not post- 
 pone it. In a short time — within the next hour — Elsie will 
 be buried, and you owe a last tribute of gratitude and respect 
 to her remains. Will you refuse it to the faithful friend to 
 whom you are indebted for so much affection and considerate 
 care ? " 
 
 " She would not wish me to do anything that is so repug- 
 nant, so painful to me." 
 
 " Have you no desire to look at her kind, placid face once 
 more ? " 
 
 "I wish to remember it as in life, — not rigid and re- 
 pulsive in "death." 
 
 " She looks so tranquil you would think she was sleeping." 
 
 "No, — no! Don't ask me. I never saw but one corpse, 
 and that was of a sailor drowned in mid ocean, and I shall 
 never be able to forget its ghastliness and distortion as it lay 
 on deck, under sickly moonshine." 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, you must follow Elsie's body to the" grave. 
 Believe that I have good reasons for this request, and grant 
 it." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Your habits of seclusion have subjected you to un- 
 charitable remarks, and your absence from the funeral would 
 
266 UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 create more gossip than any woman can afford to give grounds 
 for. There is a rumor that you are deranged, and the best 
 refutation will be your quiet presence at the grave of your 
 faithful nurse." 
 
 She straightened herself, haughtily. 
 
 " Seven years ago I turned my back upon the world, and 
 scorned its verdict." 
 
 " The men or women who defy public opinion invite social 
 impalement, and rarely fail to merit the branding and oppro- 
 brium they invariably receive. Madam, I should imagine 
 "that to a nature so refined and shrinking as yours, almost any 
 trial would seem slight in comparison with the certainty of 
 becoming a target for sarcasm, pity, and malice, in every 
 kitchen in the neighborhood. Permit my prudence to prevail 
 over your reluctance to the step I have advised, and some day 
 you will thank me for my persistency. You have time to make 
 the proper changes in your dress, and, when the hour arrives, 
 I will knock at your own door. My dear madam, do not 
 delay." 
 
 She rose, and began to replace the papers in the drawers of 
 her desk, which she closed and locked. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, why should you care if I am slandered ? " 
 
 "Because I am now your best friend, and must tell you 
 frankly your foibles and dangers, and endeavor to guard you 
 from the faintest breath of detraction." 
 
 " I am very suspicious concerning the motives of all who 
 come about me; and, at times, I have been so unjust as to 
 ascribe even my poor Elsie's devotion to a desire to control 
 my fortune for the benefit of herself and child. Do you ex- 
 pect, me to trust you more implicitly than I ever trusted 
 her?" 
 
 " I shall make it impossible for you to doubt me. Come to 
 your room. Elsie's few acquaintances will soon be here." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome thrust the key of her desk into her pocket, 
 but a moment after, when she drew out her handkerchief, it 
 fell, on the carpet, and without observing it, she passed swiftly 
 across the hall, and into her own apartment. 
 
 As Dr. Grey lingered to secure the door, his eye fell upoa 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 267 
 
 the silver key on the floor; and^ placing it in his vest poeketj 
 he rejoined Salome. 
 
 At four o'clock several of RobeTt's friends came and seated 
 themselves in the room where the coffin sat wreathed with 
 flowers; and immediately after, Mr. and Mrs. Spiewell made 
 their appearance, accompanied by two ladies whose features 
 were concealed by thick veils. Eobert and the servants soon 
 joined them, and Salome stole into the room and sat down in 
 one corner. 
 
 Dr. Grey tapped softly at the door of Mrs. Gerome's apart- 
 ment, and she came out instantly, and walked firmly forward 
 till she stood in the presence of the dead. She was dressed in 
 black silk, and wore two heavy lace veils over her bonnet, 
 which effectually screened her countenance. Crossing the 
 floor, she stood at Eobert's side, and the minister rose and be- 
 gan the burial service. _ •*'' 
 
 When a prayer was offered, all the other persons present 
 bowed their heads, but the mistress of the mansion remained 
 erect and motionless ; and, as the pall-bearers took up the coffin 
 and proceeded to the grave, she followed Eobert. 
 
 Dr. Grey stepped to her side and offered his arm, but she 
 took no notice of the act, and walked on as if she were an 
 automaton. 
 
 The service was concluded, the coffin lowered, and, amid 
 Eobert's half-smothered sobs, the mound was raised under the 
 deodars, whose long shadows slanted athwart it, in the dying 
 sunlight. 
 
 The little group dispersed, and Mr. Spiewell led his wife to 
 the owner of " Solitude." 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, Mrs. Spiewell and I have long desired the 
 pleasure of your acquaintance, and hope, if you need friends, 
 you will permit us — " 
 
 " Thank you for your kindness in visiting my faithful old 
 Elsie." 
 
 The tall, veiled figure had cut short his speech by a quick, 
 imperative gesture of her hand ; and, turning instantly away, 
 disappeared in one of the densely shaded walks that wound 
 through the grounds. 
 
268 UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 Dr. Grey escorted the party to their carriages, and as he 
 handed Mrs. Spiewell in, she said, in her sharp nasal tones, — 
 
 " I heard that Mrs. Gerome was devotedly attached to .the 
 poor old creature who had nursed. her, but she certainly seems 
 to me very indifEerent and heartless." 
 
 " She is more deeply afflicted by her loss than you can 
 possibly realize, and I am exceedingly apprehensive that she 
 will be ill in consequence of her inability to sleep or eat. My 
 dear madam, we must not judge too hastily from appearances, 
 else we shall deserve similar treatment. Who are those two 
 ladies veiled so closely ? " 
 
 " Friends, I presume, or they would not be here." 
 
 But the little woman seemed uneasy, and flushed under the 
 doctor's searching gaze. 
 
 "I hope dear Miss Jane is. as well as one can ever expect 
 her to be in this life. Come, Charles; you forget, my dear, 
 that we have a visit to make before tea-time. I notice, doc- 
 tor, that you have a new carpet on the floor of your pew, and 
 a new cushion-cover to match; and, indeed, you are so fine 
 that the remainder of the church seems quite faded and 
 shabby. Good evening, doctor ; my love to all at home." 
 
 The clergyman's gray pony trotted ofE with his master and 
 mistress, and Dr. Grey returned to Salome, who waited for 
 him at the steps of the terrace. 
 
 " Wliat do you suppose brought Mrs. Channing and Ade- 
 laide to the poor old woman's funeral ? " asked the orphan. 
 
 " How did you discover them ? " 
 
 "I found this handkerchief, whose initials I embroidered 
 two months ago, and recognize as belonging to Mrs. Channing. 
 As for Miss Adelaide, when she moved her veil a little aside to 
 peep at Mrs. Gerome, I caught a glimpse of her pretty face. 
 Do they visit here ? " 
 
 " Certainly not ; nobody visits here but the butcher, baker, 
 and doctor. Those ladies came solely on a tour of inspection, 
 and to gratify a curiosity that is not flattering to their charac- 
 ters. My dear child, you look tired." 
 
 "Dr. Grey, what is there so mysterious about this house 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 269 
 
 and its owner that all the town is agog and agape when the 
 subject is mentioned? 'What is Mrs. Gerome's history?" 
 
 "I am totally unacquainted with its details, and only 
 know that since she became. a widow, she has been a complete 
 recluse. She is very unhappy, and we must exert ourselves 
 to cheer her. This has been a lonely, dreary day to you, I 
 fear, and I trust it will not be necessary for me to ask you to 
 remain here to-night." 
 
 The sun had set, leaving magnificent cloud-pictures on sky 
 and sea, and while the orphan turned to enjoy the glorious 
 prospect above and around her. Dr. Grey went in search of the 
 lonely women who now continually occupied his thoughts. 
 
 She was standing under the pyramidal cedars, looking down 
 at the new grave, where Salome's wreath hung on the head- 
 board, and hearing approaching footsteps would have moved 
 away, but he said, pleadingly, — 
 
 "Do not avoid me." 
 
 She paused, and suddenly held out her hands to him. 
 
 "Ah, — is it you? Dr. Grey, what shall I do? How can 
 I bear to live here, — alone, — alone." 
 
 He took her hands and Ipoked down into her white, cliill 
 face. 
 
 " My dear friend, take your suffering heart to God, and He 
 will heal, and comf ortj and strengthen you. If He has sorely 
 afflicted you, try to believe that Infinite love and mercy 
 directed all things, and that ultimately every sorrow of earth 
 will be overruled for your eternal repose and happiness. Ee- 
 member that this world is but a threshing-floor, where angels 
 use afflictions as flails, to beat the ehaff and dust from our 
 hearts, and present them as perfect grain for the garners of 
 God. I know that you are desolate, but yoii can never be 
 utterly alone, since the precious prpmise, *Lol I am with 
 you alway, even unto the end of the world.' " 
 
 Despairingly she shook her head. 
 
 " All that might comfort some people, but it falls on my 
 ears and heart like the sound of the clods on Elsie's coffin. I 
 have no religion,^no faith, — ^no hope, — in time or eternity. 
 My miserable past entombs all things." 
 
270 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 " Do not unearth your woes, — let the grave seal them. 
 Your life stands waiting to be sanctified, — dedicated to Him 
 who gave it. My dear friend, — 
 
 ' Cleanse it and make it pure, and fashion it 
 After His image : heal thyself ; from grief 
 Comes glotj, like a rainbow from a cloud. ' " 
 
 The sound of his voice, more than the import of his words, 
 seemed to soothe her, for her eyes softened; but the effect was 
 transitory, and presently she exclaimed, — 
 
 " Mere ' sounding brass, and a tinkling cymbal ! ' Pretty 
 words, and musical; but empty as those polished shells yonder 
 that echo only hollow strains of the never silent sea. Once, 
 Dr. Grey,—" 
 
 She paused, and a shiver crept through her stately form; 
 then she slowly continued, in a tone of indescribable pathos,- — 
 
 " Once I could have listened to your counsel, for once my 
 soul was full of holy aims, and my heart as redolent of pure 
 Christian purposes as a June rose is of perfume; but now, — 
 
 ' They are past as a slumber that passes, 
 As the dew of a dawn of old time ; 
 More frail than the shadows on glasses. 
 More fleet than a wave or a rhyme.' " 
 
 Dr. Grey, drew her arm through his, and silently led her to 
 the house, and into the parlor. He noticed that her bjeathing 
 was quick and short, and that she sank wearily upon the sofa, 
 as if her strength had well-nigh failed her. 
 i He untied her bonnet-iStrings and removed it, and she threw 
 her head down on the silken cushion, as a spent child might 
 have done. 
 
 Taking a vial from his pocket, he dropped a portion of the 
 contents into a wine-glass, and filled it with sherry wine. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, drink this for me. It will benefit you." 
 
 She swallowed the mixture, and remained quiet for some 
 seconds ; then a singularly scornful smile curved her mouth as 
 she said, — 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 271 
 
 "You drugged the wine. Well, so be it. Nepenthe or 
 poison are alike welcome, if they bring me death, or even tem- 
 porary oblivion." 
 
 Katie came in and lighted the lamp, and Dr. Grey sat be- 
 side the sofa and watched the effect of his prescription. 
 
 Tired at length of the sober sea and dark gloomy grounds, 
 Salome came back to the house and stood on the threshold of 
 the parlor door, looking curiously at the quiet, silent group, 
 and at the pictures on the walls. 
 
 She could see very distinctly the beautiful white face of the 
 mistress pressed against the blue damask cushion, and clear in 
 outline as she had once observed it on the background of 
 ocean; and she noticed that the features were sharper and 
 that the figure was thinner. From the silvery lamp-light 
 the gray hair seemed to have caught a metallic lustre on the 
 ripples that ebbed back from the blue-veined temples, and the 
 woman looked like a marble snow-crowned image, draped in 
 black. 
 
 With one elbow on his knee, and his cheek resting in his 
 '^nd, Dr. Grey leaned forward, studying the features turned 
 towards him, and watching her with almost breathless interest. 
 He was not aware of Salome's presence, and was unconscious 
 of the strained, troubled gaze, that she fixed upon him. 
 
 The tender love that filled his heart looked out of his grave 
 deep eyes, which never wandered from the face so dear to- 
 him, and moved his lips in an inaudible prayer for the peace 
 and welfare of the lonely waif whom Providence or fate had 
 brought into his path, to evoke all the tenderness latent in 
 his sturdy, manly nature. 
 
 In the twinkling of an eye, Salome had learned the whole 
 truth and standing there, she staggered and grasped the door- 
 way for support, wishing that the heavens and earth would 
 pass away — that death might smite her, and end the agony 
 that never could be patiently endured. 
 
 Eeeently she had tutored herself to bear the loss of his love 
 and the deprivation of his caresses, — she had mapped out a 
 future in which her lot was one of loneliness, — but through all 
 the network of coming years there ran like a golden cord bind- 
 
272 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 ing their destinies the precious hope that at least Dr. Grey 
 would, die as he had lived hitherto, — without giving to any 
 woman the coveted place in his heart, where the orphan would 
 sooner have reigned than upon the proudest throne in Europe. 
 
 She had prayed that, with this assurance, God would help 
 her to be contented — would enable her to make her life useful 
 and pure, and, like Dr. Grey's, a blessing to those about her. 
 ' It had never occurred to her that the man whom she rever- 
 enced above all things human or divine, and whose exalted 
 ideal of feminine perfection soared as far above her as the 
 angels in Lebrun's " Stoning of St. Stephen " soared above 
 the sinning multitude below them — that the man whose fastid- 
 iousness concerning womanly character and deportment 
 seemed exaggerated and almost morbid, could admire or de- 
 fend, much less love that gray-haired widow, whom the world 
 pronounced either a lunatic, or a scofiSng, misanthropic in- 
 fidel. 
 
 The discovery was so unexpected, so startling, that it 
 partially stunned her; and, like one addicted to somnambu- 
 lism, she softly crossed the room and stood behind Dr. Grey's 
 chair. 
 
 He had taken Mrs. Gerome's hand to examine her pulse, 
 and retained it in his, looking fondly at the dainty moulding 
 of the fingers and the exquisite whiteness of the smooth skin. 
 How long she stood there Salome never knew, for paralysis 
 seemed creeping, numb and cold, over her heart and brain. 
 
 Dr. Grey saw that his exhausted patient was asleep, and 
 knew that the opiate he had administered in the wine would 
 not relinquish its hold until morning; and when her breath- 
 ing became more quiet and regular he bent his head and 
 softly kissed the hand that lay heavily in his. 
 
 Salome covered her face and groaned; and rising, he was 
 for the first time cognizant of her presence. His face flushed 
 deeply. 
 
 " How long have you been here ? " 
 
 " Long enough to discover why you visit ' Solitude ' so 
 often." 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 273 
 
 He could not see her countenance, but her unnaturally 
 hollow tone pained and shocked him. 
 
 " You are very much fatigued, my dear child, and as soon 
 as I have given some directions to Eobert, I will take you 
 home. Get your bonnet, and meet me at the door." 
 
 He took a shawl that was lying on the piano and laid it 
 carefully over the sleeper, then bent one knee beside the sofa, 
 and mutely prayed that God would comfort and protect the 
 woman who was becoming so dear to him. 
 
 With one long, anxious, tender look into her hopeless yet 
 beautiful face, he left the room and went in search of Eobert 
 and Katie. When he had given the requisite directions, and 
 descended the steps, he found Salome waiting, with her, fin- 
 gers grasping the side of the buggy. Silently he handed her 
 in ; and, as she sank back in one corner and muffled her face, 
 they drove swiftly through the sombre grounds, where the 
 aged trees seemed murmuring in response to the ceaseless 
 mutter of the sullen sea. 
 
 " Whom first we love, you know, we seldom wed. 
 Time rules us all. And Life indeed is not 
 The thing we planned it out ere hope was dead. 
 And then we women cannot choose our lot." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Ulpiak, you certainly do not intend to sit up again to- 
 night? Even brass or whitleather would not stand the wear 
 and tear that your constitution is subjected to. You really 
 make me unhappy." 
 
 " My dear Jane, it would make you still more unhappy if 
 from mere desire to promote my personal ease and comfort, I 
 could forget the solemn responsibility imposed by my pro- 
 fession. Moreover, my physical strength is quite equal to 
 the tax I exact from it." 
 18 
 
274 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "I doubt it, for we have all remarked how pale and worn 
 you look." 
 
 " My jaded appearance is attributable to mental anxiety, 
 rather than bodily exhaustion." 
 
 "If Mrs. Gerome is so ill as to require such unremitting 
 care and vigilance, she should have a nurse, instead of expect- 
 ing a physician to devote all his time and attention to her. 
 Where is Hester Denison ? " 
 
 "I have placed her at the steam-mill above town, where 
 there is a bad case of small-pox, and even if she were not thus 
 engaged, I should not take her to ' Solitude.' " 
 
 " Pray, why not ? She took first-rate care of me when I was 
 so sick last year." 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome is morbidly sensitive at all times, and at 
 this juncture I should be afraid to introduce a stranger into 
 her sick room." 
 
 " When people are so excessively nervous about being seen, 
 I can't help feeling a little suspicious. Do you suppose that 
 Mrs. Gerome loved her husband so much better than the 
 majority of widows love theirs, that seven years after his death 
 she can't bear to be looked at? I like to see a woman show 
 due respect to her husband's memory, but I tell you my ex- 
 perience — or rather my observation — leads me to believe that 
 these young widows who make the greatest parade of their 
 grief, and load themselves with crape and bombazine till they 
 can scarcely stagger under their flutings, flounces, and jet- 
 fringes, are the most anxious to marry again." 
 
 " Stop, my darling sister ! Who has been filling your 
 tongue and curdling all the ' milk of human kindness ' in your 
 generous heart ? If women refuse to each other due sympathy 
 in sorrow, to what quarter can they turn for that balm which 
 their natures require ? I never before heard you utter senti- 
 ments that trenched so closely upon harsh uncharitableness. 
 Your lips generally employ only the silvery language of 
 leniency, which I so much love to hear, but to-day they adopt 
 the dialect of Libeldom. Eecollect, my dear sister, that even 
 the pagan Athenians would never build a temple to Clemency, 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 275 
 
 which they contended found her most appropriate altars in 
 human hearts." 
 
 " Pooh, TJlpian ! You need not preach me such a sermon, 
 as if I were a heathen. Facts, when they happen to be real 
 facts, are the best umpires in the world, and to their arbitra- 
 ment I leave my character for charity. When Eeuben Chal- 
 mers died, his wife was so overwhelmed with grief that she 
 shut herself up like a nun; and when she drove out for fresh 
 air wore two heavy crape veils, and never allowed any one to 
 catch a glimpse of her countenance. Not even to church did 
 she venture, until one morning, at the end of two years, she 
 laid aside her weeds, clad herself in bridal array, was married 
 in her own parlor, and the next Sunday made her first ap- 
 pearance in public after the death of her husband, leaning on 
 the arm of her second spouse. Now, that is true, — is no 
 libel, — pity it is not! Though 'one swallow does not make 
 a summer,' I can't help feeling suspicious of very young and 
 hopelessly inconsolable widows, and am always reminded of 
 Anastasia Chalmers. So you see, my blue-eyed preacher, when 
 your old Janet talks of these things, she is not caught ' reckon- 
 ing without her host.' " 
 
 " One deplorable instance should not bias you against an 
 entire class, and the beautiful constancy of Panthea ought to 
 neutralize the example of a hundred Anastasia Chalmers. Is 
 it not unfortunate that poor human nature so tenaciously 
 recollects all the evil records, and is so oblivious of the noble 
 acts furnished by history? Do cut the acquaintance of the 
 huge family of on dits, who serve the community in much the 
 same capacity as did the cook of Tantalus, when he dressed 
 and garnished Pelops for the banquet table. Unluckily, 
 devouring malice can not furnish the 'ivory shoulder' req- 
 uisite to mend its mischief. We are all prone to forget the 
 injunction, ' Judge not, that ye be not judged,' and instead of 
 remembering that we are directed to bear one another's bur- 
 dens, we gall the shoulders of many, by increasing the weights 
 we should lighten. Janet, don't flay all the poor young 
 widows; leave them to such measures of peace as they may 
 find among their weeds." 
 
276 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Miss Jane listened to her brother's homily with a half-smile 
 lurking about the puckered corners of her eyes and mouth, and 
 putting her finger in the button-hole of his coat, drew him 
 closer to her, as they sat together on the sofa. 
 
 " How long since you took the tribe of widows under your 
 special protection ? " 
 
 " Since the moment, that, owing to some inexplicable 
 freak, my dear Janet suffered ' evil communications to cor- 
 rupt' her 'good manners,' and absolutely forgot to be just 
 and generous." 
 
 He kissed his sister and rose, but the troubled look that 
 settled once more on his countenance did not escape her obser- 
 vation. 
 
 " Ulpian, is Mrs. Gerome very ill ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am exceedingly unhappy about her. She is danger- 
 ously ill with a low, nervous, fever that baffles all my reme- 
 dies." 
 
 Dr. Grey walked up and down the room, and Miss Jane 
 pressed her spectacles closer to her nose, and watched him. 
 ■ " If the poor woman leads such a lonely, miserable life, I 
 should think that death would prove a blessed release to her. 
 Of course it is natural and reasonable that you should desire 
 to save all your patients, but why are you so very unhappy 
 about her ? " 
 
 He did not answer immediately, and when he spoke his deep 
 tone was tremulous with fervent feeling. 
 
 " Because I find that she is dearer to me than all the other 
 women in the world, except my sister; and her death would 
 grieve me more than any trial that has yet overtaken me — 
 more than you can realize, or than I can express." 
 
 He took Miss Jane's face in his hands, kissed her, and left 
 the room. 
 
 Meeting Muriel and Salome in the hall, the former seized 
 his arm, and exclaimed, — 
 
 "You shall not leave home again! Let me tell Elbert to 
 put up your buggy. If you continue to work yourself down, 
 as you are now doing, you will be prematurely old, and gray. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 277 
 
 and decrepit. Come into the parlor, and let me play you to 
 sleep." 
 
 " I heartily wish I could follow your pleasant prescription, 
 but. duty is inexorable, and knows no law but that of obedi- 
 ence." 
 
 " Must you sit up to-night? Is that poor lady no better? " 
 
 " I can see no improvement, and must remain until I do." 
 
 "You are afraid that she will die? " 
 
 " I hope that God will spare her life." 
 
 His serious tone awed Muriel, who raised his hand to her 
 lips, and murmured, — 
 
 " My dear doctor, I wish I could help you. I wish I could 
 do something to make you look less troubled." 
 
 " You can help me, little one, by being happy yourself, and 
 by aiding Salome in cheering my sister, while I am forced 
 to spend so much time away from her. Good evening. Take 
 care of yourselves till I come home." 
 
 Humming a bar of a Genoese barcarole, Muriel ran up 
 stairs to join her governess; but Salome turned and followed 
 the master of the house to the front door. 
 
 " Dr Grey, can I render you any assistance at ' Solitude ' ? " 
 
 " Thank you, — ^the time has passed when you might have 
 aided me. Two weeks ago, when I requested you to go with 
 me, Mrs. Gerome was rational and would have yielded to your 
 influence, but now she is delirious and you could accomplish 
 nothing. The servants are faithful and attentive, and can be 
 trusted during my absence to execute my orders." 
 
 A bright flush rose to Salome's temples, and her eyes 
 drooped beneath his, so anxious and yet so calmly sad. 
 
 " At the time you spoke to me I could not go, but now I 
 really should be glad to accompany you. Will you take me ? " 
 
 " No, Salome." 
 
 " Your reason. Dr. Grey ? " 
 
 "Is one whose utterance would pain you, consequently I 
 trust you will pardon me for withholding it." 
 
 " At my own peril, I demand it." 
 
 " The motive which prompts your offer precludes the possi« 
 bility of my acceptance." 
 
2T8 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " How dare you sit in judgment on my motives ? You who 
 prate and homilize of charity! charity! and who quote the 
 ' golden rule ' solely for the edification and guidance of those 
 around you. Example is more potent than precept, and we 
 are creatures of imitation. Suppose I should question the 
 disinterestedness of your motives in allowing one patient to 
 monopolize your attention to the detriment of the remainder? 
 Of course you would be shocked and think me presumptuous, 
 for one's sins and follies often play hide and seek, and some- 
 times we insult our own pet fault when we find it housed in 
 some other piece of flesh." 
 
 " Good night, Salome. I shall endeavor to forget all this, 
 since I am too sincerely your friend to desire to set your 
 hasty words in the storehouse of memory." 
 
 He looked down pityingly, sorrowfully, into her angry im- 
 perious eyes, and sudden shame smote her, making her cheeks 
 glow and tingle as if from the stroke of an open hand. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, wait one moment ! Let me say something, that 
 will show, — that will — " 
 
 " Only make matters worse. No, Salome, I have little time 
 for trifling, still less for recrimination, none at all for dis- 
 simulation; and, in your present mood, the least we can say 
 will prove the most powerful for good." 
 
 He went down to his buggy, but stopped and reflected; 
 and fearing that he might have been too harsh, he turned and 
 approached her, as she stood leaning against one of the 
 columns of the gallery. 
 
 "Do not think me rude. I am not less your friend than 
 formerly, though I am anxious, and doubtless appear preoccu- 
 pied. Let us shake hands in peace." 
 
 He extended his own, but the girl stood motionless, and the 
 remorseful anguish and himiiliation of her uplifted face 
 touched his heart. 
 
 "Dr. Grej', if you really forgive and forget, prove it by 
 taking me to ' Solitude.' " 
 
 " Do not ask what you well know I have quite determined it 
 is best that I should not grant." 
 
 The spark leaped up lurid as ever, in her dilating eyes. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 279 
 
 "You take this method to punish me for my refusal to 
 comply with your wishes a fortnight since?" 
 
 "I have neither the right nor inclination to punish you 
 in any respect, and you must pardon my inability to accede 
 to a request which my judgment does not approve. Good- 
 by." 
 
 He put his hand into his pocket, and left her; and while 
 she stood irresolute and disappointed, a servant summoned 
 her to Miss Jane's presence. 
 
 " Can I do anything for you ? " asked the orphan, observing 
 the cloud on the old lady's brow. 
 
 " Yes, dear ; sit down here and talk to me. I feel lonely, 
 now that TJlpian is away so constantly. He seems very un- 
 easy about that woman at ' Solitude,' and I never saw him 
 manifest so much anxiety about any one. By the by, Salome, 
 tell me something concerning her." 
 
 " I have already told you all I know of her." 
 
 " Wherein consists her attractiveness ? " 
 
 " Who said she was attractive ? She is handsome, and there 
 is something peculiar and startling about her, but she is by 
 no means a beauty. I have heard Dr. Grey say that she pos- 
 sessed remarkable talent, but I have been favored with no 
 exhibition of it. Why do you not question your brother? 
 Doubtless it would afford him much pleasure to furnish an in- 
 ventory of her charms and accomplishments, and dilate upon 
 them ad libitum." 
 
 "What makes you so savage?" 
 
 " Simply because there happens to be a touch of the wild 
 heast in my nature, and I have not a doubt that if the doc- 
 trine of metempsychosis be true, I was a tawny dappled leop- 
 ardess or a green-eyed cougar in the last stage of my existence. 
 Miss Jane, sometimes I feel as if it would be a luxury — a re- 
 lief — ^to crunch and strangle something or somebody, — ^which 
 is not an approved trait of orthodox Christian character, to 
 say nothing of meek gentility and lady-like refinement." 
 
 She laughed with a degree of indescribable scorn and bit- 
 terness that was pitiable indeed in one so young. 
 
 " There is an evil fit on Saul." 
 
280 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Yes ; and you are neither my harp nor my David." 
 
 " Does my little girl expect to find a ' cunning player,' who 
 will charm away all the barbarous notions that occasionally 
 lead her astray, and tempt her to wickedness ? " 
 
 "Verily, — no. The son of Jesse has forsaken his own 
 household, and made unto himself an idol elsewhere; and I^ 
 Saul — surrender to Asmodeus." 
 
 Miss Jane laid her hand on the girl's arm, and said, in a 
 hesitating, troubled manner, — 
 
 "Has Ulpian told you?" 
 
 " Why should he tell me ? My eyes sometimes take pity on 
 my ears, — and seeing very distinctly, save the necessity of 
 hearing. My vision is quite as keen now as when in my an- 
 terior existence, I crouched in jungles, watching for my prey. 
 Oh, Miss Jane ! if you could look here, and know all that I 
 have suffered during the past three weeks, you would not 
 wonder that the tiger element within me swallows up every 
 other feeling." 
 
 She struck her hand heavily upon her heart, and the old 
 lady was frightened and distressed by the glitter of the eyes 
 and the dilation of the slender nostrils. 
 
 " When I came in, I knew from your countenance that you 
 had heard something which you desired to prepare me for, — 
 which you intended to break, gently to me. But your kindness 
 is unavailing. The truth crashed in on my heart without pre- 
 monition; and I saw, and understood, and accepted the in- 
 evitable ; and since then, — ah, my God ! since then — " 
 
 Her head drooped upon her bosom, and a groan concluded 
 the sentence. 
 
 " Perhaps TJlpian only pities the poor woman's desolation, 
 and will lose his interest in her when she recovers her health. 
 You know how tenderly he sympathizes with all who suffer, 
 and I dare say it is more compassion than love." 
 
 "What hypocrites we often are, in our desire to comfort 
 those whom we see in agony ! Miss Jane, your kind heart is 
 holding a hand over the mouth of conscience, to smother its 
 cries and protests while you utter things in which you know 
 there is no truth. You mean well; but you ought to kno^ 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 281 
 
 better than to expect to deceive me. I understand the dif- 
 ference between love and compassion, and so do you ; and Dr. 
 Grey has not kept the truth from you. He has given his heart 
 to that gray-haired, gray-eyed woman, — and if she lives, he 
 will marry her; and then, if there were twenty oceans, I 
 should want them all to roll between us. I tell you now, I 
 can not and will not stay here to see the day that makes that 
 pale gray phantom his wife. I should go mad, and do some- 
 thing that might add new horrors to that doomed and ab- 
 horred ' Solitude,' that has become Dr. Grey's Mecca. I 
 could live without his love, but I can not stand tamely by and 
 see him lavish it on another. Some women, — such, for in- 
 stance, as we read of in novels, would meekly endure this 
 trial, as one appointed by Heaven to wean them from earth ; 
 would fold their hands, and grow devout, and romantically 
 thin and wan, — and get sweet, patient, martyr expressions 
 about their unkissed lips; but I am in no respect a model 
 heroine, and it will prove safer for us all if I am far away 
 when Dr. Grey brings his bride to receive your sisterly em- 
 brace. If you are lonely, send for Muriel and Miss Dexter, 
 and let them entertain you. Just now, I am not fit company 
 for any but the dwellers in Padalon ; so let me go away where 
 I can be quiet." 
 
 " Stav, Salome ! Where are you going? " 
 
 « To walk." 
 
 The orphan disengaged her dress from Miss Jane's fingers, 
 which had clutched its folds to detain her, and made her 
 escape just as Muriel tapped at the door. 
 
 During the three weeks that had elapsed since Elsie's death. 
 'Mrs. Gerome had not left the house, and the third day after 
 the funeral she laid her head down on the piUow from which 
 it seemed probable she would never again lift it. 
 
 A low steady fever seized her, and at length her brain be^ 
 came so seriously affected that all hope of recovery appeared 
 futile and delusive. In the early stages of her illness, Dr. 
 Grey requested Salome to assist him in nursing her, but tha 
 girl dared not trust herself to witness the manifestations (rf 
 
282 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 an affection that nearly maddened her, and had almost rudely 
 refused compliance. 
 
 As the days wore drearily on, and Dr. Grey's haggard, 
 anxious countenance, told her that her rival was indeed upon 
 the brink of dissolution, a wild hope whispered that perhaps 
 she might he spared the fierce ordeal she so much dreaded; 
 that if Mrs. Gerome died, the future might brighten, — life 
 would be endurable. In her wonted impulsive manner, the 
 girl had thrown herself on her knees, and passionately prayed 
 the Almighty to remove from earth the one woman who 
 proved an obstacle to all her hopes of peace and contentment. 
 
 She did not pause to inquire whether her petition was not 
 an insult to Him who alone could grant it; she neither 
 analyzed, nor felt self-rebuked for her sinful emotions and 
 intense hatred of the sick woman, — ^but vowed repeatedly 
 that she would lead a purer, holier life, if God would only in- 
 terpose and prevent Dr. Grey from becoming the husband 
 of any one. 
 
 She had no faith in the superior wisdom of her Maker, and 
 would not wait patiently for the developments of His divine 
 will toward her; but chose her own destiny, and demanded 
 that Omnipotence should become an ally for its accomplish- 
 ment. Like many who are less honest in confessing their 
 faith, this girl professed allegiance to her Creator only so 
 long as He appeared a coadjutor in her schemes; and, when 
 thwarted and disappointed, fierce rebellion broke out in her 
 heart, and annulled her oaths of fealty and obedience. 
 
 Dr. Grey was not ignorant of the emotions that swayed and 
 controlled her conduct, and when she declared herself ready 
 to attend the invalid, he was thoroughly cognizant of the fact 
 that she longed to witness the death which she deemed im- 
 pending ; and he could not consent to see her eager eyes watch- 
 ing the feeble breathing of the woman whom he now loved so 
 fervently. 
 
 While he believed that in most matters Salome would not 
 deceive him, he realized that in one of her passionate moods 
 of jealous hate, irremediable mischief might result, and pru- 
 dently resolved to keep her beyond the pale of temptation. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 283 
 
 It was almost dark when he reached the secluded house 
 where he had passed so many days and nights of anxiety, and 
 went into the quiet room in which only a dim light was per- 
 mitted to burn. Katie was sitting near the bed, but rose at 
 his approach, and softly withdrew. 
 
 Emaciated and ghastly, save where two scarlet spots burned 
 on the hollow cheeks, Mrs. Gerome lay, with her wasted arms 
 thrown over her head, and her eyes fixed on vacancy. Even 
 when delirium was at its height she yielded to the physician's 
 voice and touch, like some wild creature who recognizes no 
 control save that of its keeper ; and from his hand alone would 
 she take the medicines administered. 
 
 Whether the influence was merely magnetic, he did not 
 inquire, but felt comforted by the assurance that his presence 
 had power to tranquillize her. 
 
 Now, as he drew her arms down from the pillow, and took 
 her thin hot hand in his cool palms, a shadovry smile stole 
 over her features, and she fixed her eyes intently on his. 
 
 " I knew you would protect me from him." 
 
 " Protect you from whom ? " 
 
 " Prom Maurice. He is hiding yonder, — ^behind the win- 
 dow-curtain." 
 
 She pointed across the room, and a scowl darkened her 
 countenance. 
 
 " You have only been dreaming." 
 
 " N"o, I am awake ; and if you look behind the curtain you 
 will find him. His eyes are burning my face." 
 
 Willing to dispel this fantasy, Dr. Grey went to the window, 
 and, drawing aside the lace drapery, showed her the vacant 
 recess. 
 
 "Ah, he has escaped! Well, perhaps it is better so, and 
 there will be no blood shed. Let him go back to Edith, — 
 'golden-haired Edith Dexter,' — and live out the remnant of 
 his days. He came hoping to find me dead, but I am not as 
 accommodating now as formerly. Where are those violets? 
 Tell Elsie to bring the jars in, where I can smell them." 
 
 He took a bunch of the fragrant flowers from bis coat 
 pocket, and put them in her hand, for during her illness she 
 
284 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 was never satisfied unless there was a bouquet near her; and 
 now, having feebly smelled them, her eyes closed. 
 
 More than once she had mentioned the name of Edith Dex- 
 ter, always coupling it with that of Maurice, who she evi- 
 dently believed was lurking with evil purposes around her 
 home ; and Dr. Grey was sorely perplexed to follow the thread 
 that now and then appeared, but failed to guide him to any 
 satisfactory solution of the mystery. He knew that since she 
 made " Solitude " her place of residence, Mrs. Gerome had 
 never met Muriel's governess, and he conjectured that she had 
 either known her in earlier years or now alluded to another 
 person bearing the same name. Miss Dexter was very fair, 
 with a profusion of light yellow hair, and suited in all re- 
 spects the incoherent description that fell from the sick 
 woman's lips. 
 
 While at home for a short time that afternoon, Dr Grey 
 had spoken of the dangerous condition of his patient, and 
 asked the governess if she had ever seen or known Mrs. Ge- 
 rome. Without hesitation, Edith Dexter quietly replied in 
 the negative. 
 
 Formerly he had indulged little curiosity with reference to 
 the widow's history, but since she had become endeared to 
 him, he was conscious of an earnest desire to possess himself 
 of a record of all that had so darkened and chilled the life 
 of the only woman he had ever loved. 
 
 Once she had been merely an interesting psychological puz- 
 zle, and in some degree a physiological anomaly; but from 
 the day of Elsie's death, his heart had yielded more and more 
 to the strange fascination she exerted over him ; and now, as 
 he sat looking into her face, so mournfully sharpened and 
 blanched by disease, he acknowledged to his own soul that if 
 she should die the brightest and dearest hopes that ever glad- 
 dened his life would be buried in her grave. 
 
 Thoroughly convinced that his happiness depended on her 
 recovery, he prayed continually that if consistent with God's 
 will. He would spare her to him, and save him from the 
 anguish of a lonely life, which her love might bless and 
 brighten. 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 285 
 
 But above the petition, — ^above all the strife of human love, 
 and hope, and fear, — rose silvery clear, " Nevertheless, 
 Father, not my will, but Thine." 
 
 During his long vigils he had allowed imagination to paint 
 beautiful pictures of the To-Come, wherein shone the figure 
 of a lovely wife whose heart was divided only between God 
 and her husband, — whose life was consecrated first to Christ, 
 ' secondly to promoting the happiness of the man who loved her 
 so truly. 
 
 The apprehension of losing her was rendered still more 
 acute by the reflection that her soul was not prepared for its 
 exit from the realm of probation, and the thought of a separa- 
 tion that would extend through endless seons, was well-nigh 
 intolerable. 
 
 If she survived this attack, he believed that his influence 
 would redeem and sanctify her life; if she died, would God 
 have mercy on her wretched soul ? 
 
 His faith in Providence was no jagged, quivering reed, but 
 a strong, staunch, firm staff that had never yet failed him, 
 and in this hour of severe trial he leaned his aching heart 
 confidently and calmly upon it. 
 
 That some mysterious circumstances veiled the earlier por- 
 tion of Mrs. Gerome's life, he had inferred from Elsie's 
 promise of confidence, and since death denied her the desired 
 revelation, he had put imagination upon the rack, in order to 
 solve the riddle. 
 
 What eould the old nurse wish to tell him, that she was 
 unwilling to divulge until her latest breath ? Could the stain 
 of crime cling to that pale face on the pillow, or to those 
 white hands that rested so helplessly in his ? Had she soiled 
 her life by any deed that would bring a blush to those thin 
 sunken cheeks, or a flush of shame to the brow of the man 
 who loved her? Now bending fondly over her, the language 
 of his heart was, — 
 
 " Let her dead past bury its dead ! Let the by-gone be what 
 it may, — come sorrow, come humiliation, but I will daunt- 
 lessly shield her with my name, defend her with my strong 
 
286 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 arm, uphold her by my honor, save her soul by my prayers^ 
 comfort and gladden her heart with my deathless love." 
 
 He was well aware that this night must decide her fate, — 
 that her feeble frame could not much longer struggle with the 
 disease that had-almost vanquished it, — and leaning his fore- 
 head against her hand, he silently prayed that God would 
 speedily restore her to health, or give him additional grace t» 
 bear the bitter bereavement. 
 
 She slept more quietly than she had been able to do for 
 some days, and Dr. Grey sent for Eobert, who was pacing the 
 walk that led to the stables. They sat down together on the 
 steps at the rear of the house, and the gardener asked in a 
 frightened, husky tone, — 
 
 " Is there bad news ? " 
 
 "I see little change since noon, except that she is more 
 quiet, which is certainly favorable ; but she is so very ill that 
 I thought it best to consult you about several matters. Do 
 you know whether she has made a will ? " 
 
 " No, sir. How should I know it, even if she had ? " 
 
 "Who is her agent?" 
 
 Eobert hesitated, and pretended to be busy filling and light- 
 ing his pipe. 
 
 "Maclean, I have no desire to pry into Mrs. Gerome's af- 
 fairs, but it is necessary that those who direct or control her 
 estate should be appraised of her condition. It is supposed 
 that her fortune is ample, and her heirs should be informed 
 of her illness." 
 
 " She has no heirs, except — " 
 
 He paused, and after a few seconds exclaimed, — 
 
 " Don't ask me ! All I know is that I heard her say she 
 intended to leave her fortune to poor painters." 
 
 " To whom shall I write, or rather telegraph ? Where did 
 she live before she came to ' Solitude ' ? Who were her 
 friends ? " 
 
 "Mr. Simonton, of New York, is her lawyer and agent. 
 Two letters have eome from him since she has been sick. Of 
 course I did not open them, but I know his handwriting. 
 They are behind the clock in the back parlor." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 287 
 
 " Would it not be better to telegraph him at once ? " 
 
 "What good could hei do? Better send for the minister, 
 and have her baptized. Oh! but this is truly a world of 
 trouble, and I almost wish I was safely out of it." 
 
 " If she were conscious, she would not submit to baptism ; 
 and it would not be right to take advantage of her delirium 
 and force a ceremony to which she is opposed." 
 
 " Not even, sir, to save her soul ? " ' 
 
 " Her soul can not be affected by the actions of others, un- 
 less her will cooperates, which is impossible in her present 
 condition. Eobert, after your mother was partially paralyzed, 
 she said that she desired to confide comething to me just be- 
 fore her death, and intimated that it referred to Mrs. Gerome. 
 She wished me to befriend her mistress, and felt that I ought 
 to know the particulars of her early history. Unfortunately, 
 Elsie was speechless when I arrived, and could not tell me 
 what she had intended to acquaint me with. I mention this 
 fact to assure you that if your mother could trust me, you 
 need not regard me so suspiciously." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, as far as I am concerned, you are very welcome 
 to "every thought in my head and feeling in my heart; but 
 where it touches my mistress I have nothing to say. I will 
 not deny that I know more than you do, but when my poor 
 mother told me, she held my hand on the Bible and made me 
 swear a solemn oath that what she told me should never pass 
 my lips to any man, woman, or child. So you must not blame 
 me, sir." 
 
 " Certainly not, Eobert. But if she has any friends it is 
 your duty to send for them at once." 
 
 Dr. Grey rose and went into the library, where for some 
 moments he walked to and fro, perplexed and grieved. As his 
 eye rested on the escritoire, he recollected the key which he 
 had kept in his pocket since the hour that he picked it up 
 from the carpet. 
 
 Doubtless a few minutes' search in its drawers and casket 
 would place him in possession of the facts which Elsie wished 
 to confide; but notwithstanding the circumstances that 
 
288 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 might almost have justified an investigation, his delicate sense 
 of honor forbade the thought. Taking the letters from the 
 mantelpiece, he turned them to the lamp-light. 
 Mrs. Agla Oerome, 
 
 Care of Robert Maclean, 
 Box 20. 
 
 They were post-marked New York, and from the size and 
 appearance of the envelopes he suspected that they contained 
 legal documents. Perhaps one of them might prove a will, 
 awaiting signature and witnesses. Dr. Grey carried "them 
 into the room where his patient still slept, and placed them 
 on the dressing-table. Accidentally his glance fell on a large 
 worn Bible that lay contiguous, and brightening the light, he 
 opened the volume, and turned to the record of births. 
 
 " Vashti Evelyn, born June 10th, 18—. 
 
 " Henderson Flewellyn, born April l^th, 18 — . 
 
 " Vashti Flewellyn, born January 30th, 18—." 
 
 On the marriage record he found, - 
 
 "Married, July 1st, 18 — , Vashti Evelyn to Hender- 
 son Flewellyn. 
 
 "Married, September 8th, 18 — , Evelyn Flewellyn to 
 Maurice Carlyle." 
 
 The only deaths recorded were those of Henderson and 
 Vashti Flewellyn. 
 
 Whatever the mystery might be. Dr. Grey resolved to pur- 
 sue the subject no further; but wait patiently and learn all 
 from the beautiful lips of the white-faced sphinx, who alone 
 possessed the right to unseal the record of her blighted life. 
 
 " Who might have been — ah, what, I dare not think I 
 We all are changed. God judges for us best. 
 God help us do our duty, and not shrink. 
 And trust in heaven hmnblj for the rest." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 289 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 The profound stillness that pervades a room where life 
 and death grapple for mastery, imvites and aids that calm, 
 inexorable introspection, •vrhieh Gotama Buddha prescribes 
 as an almost unerring path to the attainment of peace ; and, 
 in the solemn silence of his last and memorable vigil. Dr. 
 Grey brought his heart into complete unmurmuring subjec- 
 tion to the Divine will. A soi-disant "resignation" ttiat 
 draws honied lips to the throne of grace, leaving a heart of 
 gall in the camp of sedition, could find no harbor in his 
 uncompromisingly honest nature; and though the struggle 
 was severe, he felt that faith in Eternal wisdom and mercy 
 had triumphed over merely human affection and earthly 
 hopes, and his strong soul chanted to itself the comforting 
 strains of Lampert's " Trust Song." 
 
 No mere gala barge, gay with paint and gaudy with 
 pennons, was his religion; no fair summer-day toy bearing 
 him lightly across the sun-kissed, breeze-dimpled sea of pros- 
 perity and happiness, and frail as the foam that draped its 
 prow with lace; but a staunch, trim, steady, unpretending 
 bark, that with unfaltering faith at the helm, rode firmly all 
 the billows of adversity, and steered unerringly harborward 
 through howling tempests and impenetrable gloom. Human 
 friendships and sympathy he considered unstable and treach- 
 erous as Peter, wien he shrank from his Lord ; but Christian 
 trust was one of the silver-tongued angels of God, ringing 
 chimes of patience and peace, far above the din of wailing, 
 bleeding hearts, and the fierce flames of flesh martyrdom. 
 
 One o'clock found Dr. Grey sitting near the pillow, where 
 for five hours Mrs. Gerome had slept as quietly as a tired 
 child. The fever-glow had burned itself out, and left an 
 ashen hue on the lips and cheeks. 
 
 Wishing to arouse her, he spoke to her several times and 
 19 
 
290 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 raised her head, but though she drank the powerful stimulant 
 he held to her mouth, her heavy eyelids were not lifted, 
 and when he smoothed the pillow and laid her comfortably 
 upon it, she slumbered once more. 
 
 At the foot of the bed, with his keen yellow eyes fastened 
 on his mistress, crouched the greyhound, his silky head on his 
 paws ; and on a pallet in one corner of the room slept Katie, 
 ready to render any assistance that might be required,. 
 
 The apartment was elegantly furnished, and green and 
 gold tinted all its appointments. On an Egyptian marble 
 table stood a work-box curiously inlaid with malachite and 
 richly gilded, and there lay some withered flowers, a small 
 thimble, and a pair of scissors with mother-of-pearl handles. 
 Around the walls hung a number of paintings, which, with 
 one exception, were landscapes or ocean-views; and as Dr. 
 Grey sat watching the shimmer of lamp-light on their 
 carved frames and varnished surfaces, they seemed to furnish 
 images of 
 
 " Green glaring glaciers, purple clouds of pine, 
 White walls of ever-roaring cataracts ; 
 Blue thunder drifting over thirsty tracts, 
 Rose-latticed casements, lone in summer lauds,— 
 Some witch's bower ; pale sailors on the marge 
 Of magic seas, in an enchanted barge 
 Stranded at sunset, upon jewelled sands. 
 Some cup of dim hills, where a white moon lies, 
 Dropt out of weary skies without a breath 
 In a great^pool ; a slumb'rous vale beneath. 
 And blue damps prickling into white fire-flies." 
 
 No sweet-lipped, low-browed Madonnas, no rapt Cecilias, no 
 holy Johns nor meek Stephens, no reeling Satyrs nor vine- 
 dad Bacchantes relieved the eye, weary of mountain ghylla 
 red-ribbed deserts, and stormy surfage. 
 
 One long narrow picture baffled interpretation, and excited 
 speculations that served in some degree to divert the sad 
 current of the physioian's thoughts. 
 
 It was a dreary plain, dotted with the " fallen cromleclia 
 of Stonehenge," and in front of the desecrated stone altars 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 291 
 
 stood a veiled woman, with her hands clasped over a silver 
 creseent-curved knife, and her bare feet resting on oaken 
 chaplets and mistletoe boughs, starred and fringed with 
 snowy flowers. Under the dexterously painted gauze that 
 shrouded the face, the outline of the features was distinctly 
 traceable, and behind the film, — large, oracular, yet mournful 
 eyes, burned like setting stars, seen through magnifying 
 vapors that wreathe the horizon. 
 
 It was a solemn, desolate, melancholy picture, relieved by 
 no flush of color, — gray plain, gray distance, gray sky, gray 
 temple tumuli, and that ghostly white woman, gazing grimly 
 down at the gray-haired sufferer on the low bed beneath her. 
 
 Under some circumstances, certain pictures seem basilisk- 
 eyed, riveting a gaze that would gladly seek more agreeable 
 subjects, and it chanced that Dr. Grey found a painful 
 fascination in this piece of canvas that hung immediately in 
 front of him. Wherein consisted the magnetism that so 
 powerfully attracted him, he could not decide, but several 
 times when the wind blew the scalloped edge of the lace cur- 
 tain between the lamp and the picture, and threw a dim 
 wavering shadow over the figure on the wall, he almost ex- 
 pected to see the veil float away from the stony face, and 
 reveal what the artist had adroitly shrouded. Now it looked a 
 doomed "Norma," and anon the Nemesis of a dishonored 
 faneless faith, that was born among Magi, and had tutored 
 Pythagoras; and finally Dr. Grey rose and turned away to 
 escape its spectral spell. 
 
 Waking Katie, he charged her to call him if any change 
 occurred in his patient, and went to the front of the house 
 for a breath of fresh air. 
 
 Narcissus-like, a three-quarter moon was staring down at 
 her own image, rocked on the bosom of the sea, while dim 
 stars printed silver photographs on the deep blue beneath 
 them, — 
 
 " And the hush of earth and air 
 Seemed the pause before a prayer." 
 
 The wind that had blown steadUy for two days past from 
 the south-east, had gone down into some ocean lair; but the 
 
292 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 sullen element refused to forget its late scourging, and oc< 
 casionally a long swelling billow dashed itself into froth 
 against the stone piers of the boat-house, and the cliffs which 
 stood like a phantom fleet along the southern bend of the 
 beach, were fringed with a white girdle of incessant breakers. 
 
 Far out from shore the rolling mass of water was darkly 
 blue, but now and then a wave broke over its neighbor, and 
 in the distance the foam flashed under moonshine like some 
 reconnoitring Siren-face, peeping landward for fresh victims; 
 or as the samite-clad arm that Arthur and Sir Bedivere saw 
 rise above the mere to receive Excalibar. 
 
 Following the beckoning of those snowy hands, and listen- 
 ing to the low musical monologue that sea uttered to shore, 
 Dr. Grey started in the direction of the terrace, whence he 
 could see the whole trend of the beetling coast, but some 
 unaccountable impulse induced him to pause and look back. 
 
 The dense shadow of the trees shut out from the spot where 
 he stood the golden radiance of the moon, but over the lawn 
 it streamed in almost unearthly splendor, — and there he 
 saw some white object glide swiftly towards the group of 
 deodars. The first solution that occurred to his mind was 
 that Katie had fallen asleep, and Mrs. Gerome in her delirium 
 making her way out of the house, was seeking her favorite 
 walk; but a moment's reflection convinced him that she was 
 too utterly prostrated to cross the room, still less the grounds, 
 and, resolved to satisfy himself, he followed the moving ob- 
 ject that retreated before him. 
 
 Walking rapidly but stealthily in the shadow of the trees 
 and shrubbery, he soon ascertained that it was a woman's 
 figure, and saw that it stopped at Elsie's grave, and bent down 
 to touch the head-board. Creeping forward, he bad ap- 
 proached within ten yards of her, when his hat struck the 
 lower limbs of a large acacia, and startled a bird that uttered 
 a cry of terror and darted out. The sound caused the figure 
 to ti^rn her head, and catching a glimpse of Dr. Grey, she ran 
 under the dense boughs of the deodars, and disappeared. 
 
 He followed, and groped through the gloom, but wh^ ne 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 293 
 
 ..emerged, no Kvii^ thing was visible; and, perplexed and 
 curious, he stood still. 
 
 After some moments he heard a faint sound, as of some 
 one smothering a cough, and pursuing it, found himself at 
 the boundary of the grounds. Here a thick hedge of osage 
 orange barred egress, and he saw the woman disentangling 
 her drapery from the thorns that had seized it. 
 
 Springing forward, he exclaimed, — 
 
 " Stand still ! You can not escape me. Who are you ? " 
 
 A feigned and lugubrious voice answered, — 
 
 "I am the restless spirit of Elsie Maclean, come back to 
 guard her grave." 
 
 In another instant he was at her side, and laying his hand 
 on the white netted shawl with which she was veiling her 
 features, he tore it away, and Salome's fair face looked de- 
 fiantly at him. 
 
 " If I had known that my pursuer was Dr. Grey, I would 
 not have troubled myself to play the ghost farce, for of 
 course I could not expect to frighten you off ; but I hoped you 
 were one of the servants, who would not very diligently chase 
 a spectre. I did not suppose that you could be coaxed or 
 driven thus far from your arm-chair beside the bed where 
 Mrs. Gerome is asleep." 
 
 Astonishment kept him silent for some seconds, and, in the 
 awkward pause, the girl laughed constrainedly — ^nervously. 
 
 " After all your show of bravery in pursuing a woman, I 
 verily believe you are too much frightened to arrest me if 
 I chose to escape." 
 
 " Salome, has something terrible happened at home, that 
 you have come here at midnight to break to me ? " 
 
 " Nothing has happened at home." 
 
 " Then why are you here ? Are you, too, delirious ? " 
 
 Her scornful laugh rang startlingly on the still night air. 
 
 " Oh, Salome ! You grieve, you shock me ! " 
 
 "Yes, Dr. Grey, you have assured me of that fact too 
 frequently — too feelingly — to permit me to doubt your sin- 
 cerity. You need not repeat it; I accept the assertion that 
 you are shocked at my indiscretions." 
 
294 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Compassion predominated over displeasure, as he observed 
 the utter recklessness that pervaded her tone and manner. 
 
 " I am unwilling to believe that you would, without some 
 very cogent reason, violate all decorum by coming alone at 
 dead of night two miles through a dreary stretch of hills and 
 woods. Necessity sometimes sanctions an infraction of the 
 rules of rigid, propriety, and I am impatient to hear your 
 defence of this most extraordinary caprice." 
 
 She was endeavoring to disengage the fringe of her shawl 
 from the hedge, but finding it a tedious operation, she caught 
 her drapery in both hands and tore it away from the thorns,, 
 leaving several shreds hanging on the prickly boughs. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I have no defence to offer." 
 
 " Tell me what induced you to come here." 
 
 '^An eminently charitable and commendable interest in 
 your fair patient. I came here simply and solely to ascertain 
 whether Mrs. Gerome would die, or whether she could pos- 
 sibly recover." 
 
 Unflinchingly she looked up into his eyes, and he thought 
 he had never seen a fairer, prouder, or lovelier face. 
 
 " How did you expect to accomplish your errand by wander- 
 ing about these grounds, exposing yourself to insult and to 
 injury ? " 
 
 " I have been on the gallery since twilight, looking through 
 the lace curtains at Mrs. Gerome lying on her bed, and at 
 you sitting in the arm-chair. Her eyes are keener than 
 yours, for she saw me peeping through the window, and told 
 you so. When you left the room I came out among the trees 
 to escape observation. I scorn all equivocation, and have no 
 desire to conceal the truth, for if I am not dowered 
 
 ' With blood trained up along nine centuries, 
 To hound and hate a lie,' 
 
 at least I hold my pauper soul high above the mire of false* 
 
 hood; and 
 
 ' The things we do, 
 
 We do : we'll wear no mask, as if we blushed.' " 
 
UNTIL DEATH DS DO PAST. 296 
 
 They had walked away from the hedge, and Dr. Grey 
 paused at the mound, where the Ariadne gleamed cold and 
 white in the moonbeams that slanted across it like silver 
 lances. 
 
 EeTolving in his mind the best method of extricating the 
 orphan from the unfortunate predicament in which her rash- 
 ness had plunged her, he did not answer immediately, and 
 Salome continued, impatiently, — 
 
 " If you imagine that I came here to act as spy upon your 
 actions, you most egregiously mistake me, for I know all that 
 the most rigid surveillance could possibly teach me. I heard 
 you say that this night would prove a crisis in Mrs. Gerome's 
 case, and I was so anxious to learn the result that I could 
 not wait quietly at home until morning. I begged you to 
 bring me, and you refused ; eonsecpiently, I came alone. Deal 
 frankly with me, — tell me, will that woman die ? " 
 
 The breathless eagerness with which she bent towards him, 
 the strained, almost ferocious expression of her keen eyes, 
 sickened his soul, and he put his hand over his face to shut 
 out the sight of hers. 
 
 " Tell me the truth. I must and will know it." 
 
 Her sweet clear voice had become a low hoarse pant, and 
 the knotted lines were growing harder and tighter on her 
 beautiful brow. 
 
 " I pray ceaselessly that God will spare her to me, and I 
 hope all things from His mercy. Another hour will probably 
 end my suspense, and decide the awful question of life or 
 death. Salome, if she should die, my future will be very 
 lonely, — and my heart bereft of the brightest, dearest hopes, 
 that have ever cheered it." 
 
 A half-smothered cry struggled across the orphan's trem- 
 bling lips that had suddenly grown colorless, and he saw her 
 clutch her fingers. 
 
 "Andif she lives?" 
 
 "If she lives, and will accept the affection I shall offer 
 her, the remainder of my years will be devoted to the work 
 of making her forget the sorrows that have darkened the 
 
296 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 early portion of her life. I do not wish to conceal the fact 
 that she is inexpressibly dear to me." 
 
 During the long silence that ensued, a lifetime of agony 
 seemed compressed into the compass of a few moments, but 
 Salome stood motionless, with her arms pressed over her 
 aching heart, and her head thrown haughtily back, while the 
 moonlight streamed down on her face vheve pride and pain 
 were struggling for right to reign. 
 
 When all expectation of earthly happiness is smothered in 
 a proud, passionate soul, and the future robes itself in those 
 dun hues that only the day-star of eternity can gild, nerves 
 and muscles shrink and shiver at the massacre of hopes which 
 despair hews down, in the hour that it "storms the citadel 
 of the heart, and puts the whole garrison to the sword." 
 
 Dr. Grey could not endure the sight of that fixed, hardened 
 face, and sorely distressed by the consciousness of the suffer- 
 ing which he had unintentionally inflicted on one so young, 
 he moved away, and for some time walked slowly under the 
 arching laurestines. Although his stern integrity of purpose 
 acquitted him of all blame, and he could accuse himself of 
 no word or deed that might be held amenable to conscience 
 for the mischief and misery that had resulted from his ac- 
 quaintance with this unfortunate girl, he regretted that he 
 had remained in the same house, and, by constant association, 
 fed the flame that absence might have extinguished. 
 
 While he pitied the weakness that had induced her to yield 
 so entirely to the preference she indulged for him, he felt 
 humiliated at the thought that he, who had intended to guide 
 and elevate this wayward child of nature, had been instru- 
 mental in darkening and embittering her young life. 
 
 When he came back to the spot, whence she had not moved, 
 and laid his hand gently on her shoulder, she smiled strangely, 
 
 and 
 
 " Unbent the grieving beauty of her brows. 
 But held her heart's proud pain superbly still." 
 
 "My little sister, you must not stay here any longer. 
 Would you prefer to go home at once in my buggy, or remaiitt 
 in the parlor until daylight ? " 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 291 
 
 "Neither. Let me sit down on the stone terrace till the 
 end comes. I will disturb no one. It will be three hours 
 before day breaks, and when you know whether your idol wiD 
 live or die, come and tell me. Take your hand from my 
 shoulder." 
 
 He had endeavored to detain her, but she shrank away 
 from his grasp, and glided down the smooth sward to the 
 terrace which divided it from the ripple-barred and ringed 
 sands of the shelving beach. 
 
 As he returned to the house, the wind sprang up and 
 moaned through the dense foliage above him, and an owl, 
 perched in some clustering bough that overhung the portico, 
 screamed and hooted dismally. The sound was so startling 
 that the greyhound leaped to his feet and set up an answering 
 howl, which almost froze Katie with fright, and caused even 
 Mrs. Gerome's heavy eyelids to unclose. 
 
 Salome sat down on the paved terrace, crossed her arms 
 over the low stone balustrade, and resting her chin upon 
 them, looked out at the burnished bosom of the ocean. Just 
 beneath her, and near enough to moisten the granite with 
 the silvery spray, — 
 
 " Its waves are kneeling on the strand, 
 As kneels the human knee, 
 Their white locks bowing to the sand, 
 The priesthood of the sea." 
 
 If the old Eabbinical legend of Sandalphon be grounded in 
 some solemn vision granted to the saints of eld, who walked 
 in Syria, then peradventure on this night, the angel must 
 have been puzzled indeed concerning the petitions that floated 
 up, and demanded admission to the Eternal ear. 
 
 From the anxious heart of the sincere and humble Christian 
 who knelt at the bedside of the invalid, rose a fervent pxayer 
 that if consistent with the Father's will, He would lay His 
 healing hand upon the sufferer, and restore her to health and 
 strength; while the wretched girl on the terrace prayed 
 vehemently that God would crush the feeble flicker of life in 
 Mrs. Gerome's wasted frame, would take from the world a 
 
298 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 woman whose existence was a burden to herself and threat 
 ened to prove a curse to others. 
 
 The passionate cry of Salome's soul was, — 
 
 " Punish me in any way, and all other ways ! Send sick- 
 ness, destitution, humiliation, — let every other affliction smite 
 me ; but save me from the intolerable anguish of seeing that 
 woman his wife! my God! the world is not wide enough 
 to hold us both. Take her, or else call me speedily hence. 
 I am not fit to die, but I shall never be better, if I am doomed 
 to witness this marriage. I would sooner go down to perdi- 
 tion now, than live to see that thing of horror. Of two hells, 
 I choose that which takes me farthest from her." 
 
 For the first time in her life she felt that the hours were 
 flying, that the day of doom was rushing to meet her, and 
 she shuddered when one after another the constellations 
 slipped softly and solemnly down the sky, and vanished be- 
 hind the dim shadowy outline of the western hills. Gradually 
 the moon sank so low that the sea could no longer reflect her 
 beams, and as the mighty waste of waters slowly darkened, 
 and the wind stiffened, and the song of the surf swelled like 
 a rising requiem, the girl felt that all nature was preparing 
 to mourn with her over the burial of her only hope of earthly 
 peace. 
 
 If Mrs. Gerome died, a quiet future stretched before the 
 ■arphan, and she could bear to live without the love which she 
 had the grim satisfaction of knowing brightened no other 
 woman's life. 
 
 The happiness of the man for whom she almost impiously 
 prayed, was a matter of little importance compared with the 
 ease of her own heart; and she had yet to learn that the 
 welfare and peace of the object she loved so selfishly would 
 one day become paramount to all other aims and considera- 
 tions. That pure and sublime spirit of self-abnegation which 
 immolates every hope and wish that is at variance with the 
 happiness of the beloved had not yet been born in Salome's 
 fiery nature; and she cared little for the anguish that might 
 be Dr. Grey's portion, provided her own heart could be spared 
 the pang of witnessing his wedded bliss. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 299 
 
 Through the trees, she could see the steady light of the 
 lamp that burned in the room where the sick woman lay, and 
 so she watched and waited, shivering in the shadow that fell 
 over earth and ocean just before the breaking of the new day. 
 
 Along the eastern horizon, the white fires of rising con- 
 stellations paled and flickered and seemed to dJe, as a gray 
 light stole up behind them; and. the gray grew pearly, an^ 
 the pearly opaline, and ere long the sky crimsoned, and the 
 sea reddened until its waves were like ruby wine or human 
 gore. 
 
 In the radiant dawn of that day which would decide the 
 earthly destinies of three beings, Salome saw Dr. Grey coming 
 across the lawn. His step was quiet, — ^neither slow nor hasty, 
 and she could not conjecture the result ; but as he approached, 
 she rose, wrapped her shawl about her, and advanced to meet 
 him. He paused, took off his hat, and she knew all before a 
 syllable passed his lips. 
 
 " Salome, God has heard my prayers, — ^has mercifully taken 
 my darling from the arms of death, and given her to me. I 
 do not think I am too sanguine in saying that she will 
 ultimately recover, and my heart can not find language that 
 will interpret its gratitude and joy." 
 
 Never before had such a light shone in his clear, calm blue 
 eyes, and illumined his usually grave countenance ; and though 
 continued vigils and keen anxiety had left their signet on his 
 pale face, his great happiness was printed legibly on every 
 feature, and found expression even in the deepened and soft- 
 ened tones of his voice. 
 
 The girl did not move or speak, but lookea steadily into 
 his bright eyes, and the calmness with which ene listened, 
 comforted and encouraged him to hope that ere long she 
 would conquer her preference. 
 
 How could he know that at that instant she was impiouslj' 
 vowing that heaven had heard her last prayer? — ^that never 
 again should a petition cross her lips? God had granted one 
 prayer, — ^had decided against hers,^-had denied her utterly; 
 and henceforth she would not weary Him, — she would not 
 mock herself and her misery. 
 
300 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Dr. Grey saw that there was no quiver on the still, pale 
 lips, no contraction of the polished forehead ; but the rigidity 
 of her face broke up suddenly in a smile of indescribable 
 mournfulness, — a smile where self-contempt and pity and 
 hopeless bitterness all lent their saddest phases. 
 
 " J)r. Grey, in your present happy mood, you certainly can 
 not be so ungracious as to deny me a favor ? " 
 
 " Have I ever refused my little sister anything she asked ? " 
 
 " The only favor you can ever grant me will be to persuade 
 Miss Jane to consent to my departure. Look to it, sir, that T 
 am allowed to go, and that right speedily; for go I certainly 
 shall, at all hazards. Convince your sister that it is best, and 
 let me go away forever, without incurring the displeasure of 
 the only friend I ever had or ever shall have." 
 
 She moved away as if to leave the grounds, but he caught 
 her arm. 
 
 " Wait five minutes, Salome, and I vdll take you home in 
 my buggy. It is not right for you to walk alone at this early 
 hour, and I will not allow it." 
 
 She shook off his hand as if it had been an infant's ; and, 
 as she walked away, he heard her laugh with a degree of 
 savage bitterness that stabbed his generous heart like a 
 dagger; while behind her trailed the hissing echo, — 
 
 " Oh, alone, alone, — 
 Not troubling any in heaven, nor any on earth. " 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 In the pure, clear light of early morning, "Grassmere," 
 with its wide, smooth lawn, and old-fashioned brick house, 
 weather-stained and moss-mantled, looked singularly peace- 
 ful and attractive. Against the sombre mass of tree-foliage, 
 white and purple altheas raised their circular censers, as 
 if to greet the sun that was throwing level beams from the 
 eastern hill-top, and delicate pink, and deep azure, and peari- 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 301 
 
 pale convolvulus held up their velvet trumpets all beaded with 
 dew, to be drained by the first kiss of the great Day-God. Up 
 and down the comb of the steep roof, beautiful pigeons with 
 neeklaees that rivalled the trappings of Solomon, strutted 
 and cooed; on the eaves, busy brown wrens peeped into the 
 gutters, — 
 
 " And of the news delivered their small souls," — 
 
 gossiping industriously; while from a distant nook some 
 vagrant partridge whistled for its mate, and shy doves swing- 
 ing in the highest elm limbs, moaned plaintively of the last 
 hunting-season, that had proved a St. Barthlomew's day to 
 the innocent feathered folk. 
 
 On the lawn a flock of turkeys were foraging among the 
 clover-blossoms, and over the dewy grass a large brood of 
 young guineas raced after their mother, or played hide-and- 
 seek, like nut-brown elves, under the white and purple tufts 
 of flowers. Save the bird-world — always abroad early — no 
 living thing seemed astir, and the silence that reigned was 
 broken only by the distance-softened bleating of Stanley's 
 pet lamb. 
 
 As Salome walked slowly and wearily up the avenue, she 
 saw that the house-maid had opened the front door, and when 
 the orphan ascended the steps, all within was still as a 
 tomb, except the canary that sprang into its ring and began 
 to warble a reveille as she approached the cage. Miss Jane 
 was usually an early riser, and often aroused her servants, 
 but to-day the household seemed to have overslept themselves, 
 and when Salome had rearranged her dress, and waked her 
 little brother, she rang the bell for Eachel, who soon obeyed 
 the summons. 
 
 "Is Miss Jane up?" 
 
 "No, ma'am, I suppose not, as she has not rung for me. 
 You know I always wait for her bell." 
 
 " Perhaps she is not very well this morning. I will go 
 and see whether she intends to get up." 
 
 Salome went down stairs and knocked at the door of Miss 
 
302 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Jane's room, but no sound was audible within, and she softly 
 turned the bolt and entered. 
 
 The lamp was burning very dimly on a table close to the 
 bed, and upon the open Bible lay the spectacles which the 
 old lady had placed there twelve hours before, when she 
 finished reading the nightly chapter that generally composed 
 her mind and put her to sleep. 
 
 Salome conjectured that she had forgotten to extinguish 
 the lamp, and as she cautiously turned .the wick down, her 
 eyes rested on the open page where pencil-lines marked the 
 twelfth chapter of Ecclesiastes, and enclosed the sixth and 
 seventh verses, " Or ever the silver cord be -loosed, or the 
 golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the foun- 
 tain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the 
 dust return to the earth as i|; was; and the spirit shall re- 
 turn unto God who gave it." 
 
 Removing the glasses, the girl closed the book, and leaned 
 over the pillow to look at the sleeper. She had turned her 
 face towards the wall, and one hand lay under her head, 
 pressed against her cheek, while the other held her handker- 
 chief on the outside of the counterpane. 
 
 Very softly she slumbered, with a placid smile half break- 
 ing over her aged, wrinkled features ; and unwilling to shorten 
 the morning nap in which she so rarely indulged, Salome sat 
 down at the foot of the bed, and leaning her head on her 
 hands, fell into a painful and profound reverie. 
 
 Nearly an hour passed, unheeded by the unhappy girl, 
 whose anguish rendered her indifferent to all that surrounded 
 her ; and after a while a keen pang thrilled her heart, as she 
 heard Dr. Grey's pleasant voice jesting with Stanley on the 
 lawn. His happiness seemed an insult to her misery, and 
 she stopped her ears to exclude the sound of his quiet laugh. 
 
 A half hour elapsed, and then his well-known rap was 
 heard at the door. Miss Jane did not answer, and Salome 
 was in no mood to welcome him home; but he waited for 
 neither, and came in, gently closing the door behind him. 
 
 At sight of the orphan, he started slightly, and said,— => 
 
 " Is my sister sick ? " 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 303 
 
 "I don't know, but she is Bleeping unusually late. I 
 thought it best not to disturb her." 
 
 The look of dread that swept over his countenance fright- 
 ened her, and she rose as he moved hastily to the bed-side. 
 
 " Salome, open the blinds. Quick ! quick ! " 
 
 She sprang to the window, threw the shutters wide open, 
 and hastened back. Dr. Grey's hand was on his sister's wrist, 
 and his ear pressed against her heart, — strained to catch 
 some faint pulsation. His head went down on her pillow, 
 and Salome held her breath. 
 
 " Oh, Janet ! My dear, patient, good sister ! This is in- 
 deed hard to bear. To die alone — ^unsoothed — ^unnoticed; 
 with no kind hands about you ! To die — without one fare- 
 well word ! " 
 
 He hid his face in his hands, and Salome staggered to the 
 bed, and grasped Miss Jane's rigid, icy fingers. 
 
 In the silence of midnight, Death stole her spirit from its 
 clay garments, and while she slept peacefully had borne her 
 beyond the confines of Time, and left her resting forever in 
 the City Celestial. 
 
 A life dedicated to pure aims and charitable deeds had 
 been rewarded with a death as painless as the slumber of a 
 tired child on its mother's bosom, and, without struggle or 
 premonition, the soul had slipped from the bondage of flesh 
 into the Everlasting Peace that remaineth for the children 
 of God. 
 
 It was impossible to decide at what hour she had died ; and 
 when the members of the appalled household were questioned, 
 Muriel and Miss Dexter stated that she had kissed them good 
 night and appeared as well as usual at her customary time 
 of retiring; and Eachel testified that after she was in bed, 
 she rang her bell and directed her to tell the cook that as Dr. 
 ,Grey would probably come home about daylight, she must get 
 up early and have a cup of coffee ready when he arrived. 
 Sobbing passionately, Eachel added, — 
 
 "When I asked her if I should put out the lamp, she 
 said, * No ; IJlpian may lose his patient, and come home sad, 
 and then he wiU come in and talk to me awhile.' And just 
 
304 UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 as I was leaving the room, she called to me, 'Eaehel, what 
 coat did Ulpian wear? It turns so cool now before daylight 
 that he will take cold if he has on that linen one.' I told 
 her I did not know, and she would not be satisfied till I 
 went to his room and found that the linen coat was hanging 
 in the closet, and the gray flannel one was missing. Then 
 she opened her Bible and said, 'Ah, that is all right. The 
 flannel one will do very well, iand my boy will be comfort- 
 able.' " 
 
 Dr. Grey's grief was deep, but silent; and, during the 
 dreary day and night that succeeded, he would allow no one 
 to approach him except Muriel, whose soft little hands, and 
 tearful, tender caresses, seemed in some degree to comfort 
 him. 
 
 One month before^ Salome would have wept and mourned 
 with him, but the fountain of her tears was exhausted and 
 scorched by the intense bitterness and despairing hate that 
 had taken possession of her since the day of Elsie's burial; 
 and stunned and dry-eyed, she watched the preparations for 
 the obsequies of her benefactress. 
 
 Her love for Miss Jane had never been sufSciently fervent 
 to render her distress very poignant ; but in the death of this 
 devoted friend she was fully aware that at last she was set 
 once more adrift in the world, without chart or rudder save 
 that furnished by her will. 
 
 Life to-day was not the beautiful web, all aglow with the 
 tangling of gold and silver threads, that had once charmed 
 and dazzled her, for the mildew of hopelessness had tarnished 
 the gilding, and the mesh was only a mass of dark knots, 
 and subtle crossings, and inextricable confusion. 
 
 Like that lost star that once burned so luridly in Cassio- 
 peia, and flickered out, leaving a gulf of gloom where 
 stellar glory was, the one most precious hope that lights and 
 sanctifies a woman's heart had waned and grown sickly, and 
 finally had gone out utterly, and dust and ashes and dark- 
 ness filled the void. In natures such as hers, this hope is 
 not allied to the phoenix, and, once crushed, knows no resur- 
 rection; consequently she cheated herself with no vain ex- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 305 
 
 pectation that the mighty wizard, Time, could evoke from 
 corpse or funeral-pyre even a spark to dieer the years that 
 were thundering before her. 
 
 A few months ago the future had glistened as peaceful 
 and silvery as the Dead Sea at midnight, when a full-orbed 
 Syrian moon glares down, searching for the palms and palaces 
 that once marked Gomorrah's proud places; and, like some 
 thirsty traveller smitten with surface sheen, she had laid 
 her fevered lips to the treacherous margin, and, drinking 
 eagerly, had been repaid with brine and bitumen. 
 
 Disappointment was with her no meek, mute affair, but a 
 savage fiend that browbeat and anathematized fate, accusing 
 her of rendering existence a mere Nitocris banquet, where, 
 while every sense is sharpened and pampered, and fruition 
 almost touches the outstretched hands of eager trust, the 
 flood-gates of the mighty Nile of despair are lifted, and its 
 chiU, dusky waves make irremediable wreck of all. 
 
 With the quiet thoughtfulness and good sense that char- 
 acterized her unobtrusive conduct. Miss Dexter had prepared 
 from Muriel's wardrobe an entire suit of mourning, which 
 she prevailed upon Salome to accept and wear; and, on the 
 morning of the funeral, the latter went down early into the 
 draped and darkened parlor, where the cofiBn and its cold 
 tenant awaited the last ofBces that dust can perform for dust. 
 
 She had not spoken to Dr. Grey for twenty-four hours, 
 and, finding him beside the table where his sister's body lay, 
 the orphan would have retreated, but he caught the rustling 
 sound of her crape and bombazine, and held out his hand. 
 
 "Come in, Salome." 
 
 She took no notice of the offered fingers, but passed him, 
 and went around the table to the opposite side. 
 
 The wrinkled, sallow face, still wore its tranquil half-smile, 
 and, under the cap-border of fine lace, the grizzled hair lay 
 smooth and glossy on the sunken temples. 
 
 In accordance with a wish which she had often expressed, 
 
 the ghostly shroud was abandoned, and Miss Jane was dressed 
 
 in her favorite black silk. Salome had gathered a small 
 
 bouquet of the fragile white blossoms of apple-geranium, of 
 
 30 
 
306 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 wliich the old lady was particularly fond, and, bending over 
 the coffin, she laid them between the fingers that were inter- 
 laced on the pulseless heart. 
 
 With a quiet mournfulness, more eloquent than passionate 
 grief, the girl stood looking for the last time at the placid 
 countenance that had always beamed kindly and lovingly 
 upon her since that dreary day, when, under the flickering 
 shadow of the mulberry-tree, she had called her from the 
 poor-house and given her a happy home. 
 
 She stooped to kiss the livid lips, that had never spoken 
 harshly to her; and, for some seconds, her face was hidden 
 on the bosom of the dead. When she raised it, the dry, 
 glittering eyes and firm mouth, betokened the bitterness of 
 soul that no invectives could exhaust, no language adequately 
 express. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, if the exchange could be made, I would not 
 only willingly, but gladly, thankfully, lie down here in this 
 coffin, and give your sister back to your arms. The Reaper, 
 Death, has cut down the perfect, golden grain, and left the 
 tares to shiver in the coming winter. Some who are useless 
 and life-weary beiid forward, hoping to meet the sickle, but it 
 sweeps above them, and they wither slowly among the 
 stubble." 
 
 He looked at her, and found it difficult to realize that the 
 pale, quiet, stern woman, standing there in sombre weeds, 
 was the same fair young face that he had seen thirty-six 
 hours before in the moonlight that brightened Elsie's grave. 
 He thought that only the slow, heavy rolling of years could 
 have worn those lines about her faded lips, and those dark 
 purplish hollows under the steady, undimmed eyes. That 
 composed, frigid Sajome, watching him from across the 
 corpse and coffin, seemed a mere chill shadow of the fiery, 
 impetuous, radiant girl, whose passionate waywardness had 
 so often annoyed and grieved him. The alabaster vase was 
 still perfect in form, but the lamp that had hitherto burned 
 within, lending a rosy glow to clay, had fluttered and expired, 
 and the change was painful indeed. 
 
 His attention was so riveted upon the extraordinary altera- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 307 
 
 tion in her appearance, that her words fell on his ear, as 
 empty, as meaniifgless, as the echoes heard in dreams, and 
 when she ceased speaking, he looked perplexed, and sighed 
 heavily. 
 
 "What did you say? I do not think I understand you; 
 my mind was abstracted when you spoke." 
 
 " True ; you never will understand me. Only the dead 
 sleeping here between us fully comprehended me, and even 
 unto the end of my life-chapter I must walk on misappre- 
 hended. When the coffin-lid is screwed down over that dear, 
 kind face, I shall have bidden adieu to my sole and last 
 friend ; for in the Hereafter she will not know me. Ah, Miss 
 Jane ! you tried hard to teach me Christianity, but it was like 
 geometry, I had no talent for it, — could not take hold of it, — 
 and it all slipped through my fingers. If there is indeed an 
 inexorable and incorruptible Justice reigning behind the 
 stars, you will be so happy that I and my sins, and my deso- 
 lation will not trouble you. Good-by, dear Miss Jane; it is 
 not your fault that I missed my chance of being coaxed into 
 the celestial fold with the elect sheep, and find myself 
 scourged out with the despised goats. God grant you His 
 everlasting rest." 
 
 She turned, but Dr. Grey stretched his arm across his 
 sister's body, and caught the orphan's dress. 
 
 " Salome, God has called my own sister to her blessed rest 
 in Christ, but my adopted sister He has left to comfort, to 
 sympathize with me. Here, in the sacred presence of my 
 dear dead, I ask you to take her place, and be to me through- 
 out life the true, loving, faithful friend whom nothing can 
 alienate, and of whom only death can deprive me. My littte 
 sister, let the future ripen and sanctify our confidence, afEec- 
 tion, and friendship." 
 
 " No, sir ; sinners can not fill the niches of the saints ; and 
 to-day we are more completely divided than if the ocean roared 
 between us. Once I struggled hard to cure myself of my 
 faults, — ^to purify and fashion my nature anew, but the 
 incentive has died, and I have no longer the proud aspirations 
 that lifted me like eagle's wings high above the dust into 
 
308 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 which I have now fallen, — and where I expect to remain. 
 You need not fear that I shall commit some capital sin, and 
 go down in disgrace to my grave; for there must be some 
 darling hope, some precious aim, that goads people to crime, 
 — and neither of these have I. I do not want your friend- 
 ship, and I will not allow your dictation; and, if you are as 
 generous as I have believed you, I think you will spare me 
 the manifestation of your pity. Miss Jane was the only link 
 that united us in any degree, and now we are asunder and 
 adrift. You see at least I am honest, and since I have not 
 your confidence, I decline your compassion and espionage, and 
 refuse to accept a sham friendship, — to trust myself upon 
 a gossamer web that stretches across a dismal gulf of gloom, 
 and wretchedness, and endless altercation. When I am in one 
 continent, and you are in another, we shall be better friends 
 than now." 
 
 Her cold, slow, measured accents, and the calm pallor of 
 her features told how complete was the change that had set 
 its stern seal on body and soul; and Dr. Grey's heart ached, 
 as he realized how withering was the blight that had fallen 
 on her once buoyant, sanguine nature. 
 
 " My dear Salome, for Janet's sake, and in memory of all 
 her love and counsel, let me beg you not to indulge feelings 
 that can only result in utter — " 
 
 " Dr. Grey, let there be silence and peace between us, at 
 least in the presence of the dead. Expostulation from your 
 lips only exasperates and hardens me; so pray be quiet. No! 
 do not touch me! Our hands have not clasped each other 
 BO often nor so closely that they must needs miss the warmth 
 and pressure in the coming years of separation, and I will not 
 soil your palm with mine." 
 
 She coldly put aside the hand that endeavored to take hers, 
 and, after one long, sad gaze at the marble face in the coffin, 
 turned away, and went back to her own room. 
 
 Miss Jane's charities had carried her name even to the 
 secluded nooks of the county, and, when her death was an- 
 nounced, many humble beneficiaries of her bounty came to 
 oflEer the last testimonial of respect and gratitude, by follow- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 309 
 
 ing the remains to their final resting-place. As the hour 
 approached for the solemn rites, the house was filled with 
 friends and acquaintances ; and the members of the profession 
 to which Dr. Grey belonged came to attend the funeral, and 
 ofiBciate as pall-bearers. 
 
 Seated beside Dr. Grey, on one of the sofas, Salome's dry 
 eyes noted all that passed while the services were performed ; 
 and, when the hearse moved down the avenue, she took his 
 offered arm, and was placed in the same carriage. 
 
 It was a long, dreary drive to the distant cemetery, and 
 she was relieved to some extent when they found themsfilves 
 at the family vault. Miss Jane had always desired to be 
 buried under the slab that covered her brother, and had 
 directed a space left for that purpose. Now the marble was 
 removed, and the coffins of Jane and Enoch Grey rested side 
 by side. The voice of the minister ceased, and only little 
 Stanley's sobs broke that mournful silence which always en- 
 sues while spade or trowel does its sad work. Then the 
 sculptured slab was replaced, and brother and sister were left 
 to that blessed repose which is granted only to the faithful 
 when " He giveth His beloved sleep." 
 
 " Write, * Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, 
 Because they rest,' . . . because their toil is o'er. 
 The voice of weeping shall be heard no more 
 In the Eternal City. Neither dying 
 Nor sickness, pain nor sorrow, neither crying, 
 For God shall wipe away all tears. Best, — ^rest," 
 
 In the death of his sister. Dr. Grey mourned the loss of 
 the only mother he had ever known, for his earliest recollec- 
 tions were of Miss Jane's tender care and love, and his affec- 
 tion was rather that of a devoted son than brother; conse- 
 quently, the blow was doubly painful : but he bore it with a 
 silent fortitude, a grave and truly Christian resignation, that 
 left an indelible impression upon the minds of Miss Dexter 
 and Muriel, and taught them the value of a faith that could 
 bring repose and trust in the midst of a trial so severe. 
 
 His continued vigils at " Solitude," and the profound grief 
 
310 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 that could not find vent in tears or words, had printed char" 
 aeters on his pale, wearied face, that should have commanded 
 the sympathy of all who shared his friendship; but the sight 
 of his worn features and the sound of his slow step only 
 embittered the heart of the orphan, who saw in these evi- 
 dences of fatigue and anxiety new manifestations of affection 
 for the patient who was not yet entirely beyond danger. 
 
 Pour days after the funeral. Dr. Grey came in to break- 
 fast later than usual, having driven over very early to " Soli- 
 tude;" and, as he seated himself at the table and received 
 from Muriel's hand a cup of coffee, he leaned forward and 
 kissed her rosy cheek. 
 
 " Thank you, my child. You are very kind to wait for 
 me." 
 
 " How is that poor Mrs. Gerome ? Will she never be well 
 enough to dispense with your services ? " 
 
 Once, Salome would have answered, "He hopes not;" 
 but now she merely turned her head a little, to catch his 
 reply. 
 
 " She is better to-day than I feared I should find her, as 
 some alarming s3Tnptoms threatened her yesterday; but now 
 I think I can safely say the danger has entirely passed." 
 
 Muriel hung over the -back of his chair, pressing him to 
 try several dishes that she pronounced excellent, but he 
 gently refused all except the coffee ; and, when he had pushed 
 aside the empty cup, he drew the face of his ward close to 
 his own, and murmured a few words that deepened the glow 
 on her fair cheeks, while she hastily left the room to read a 
 letter. 
 
 For some moments he sat with his head resting on his 
 hand, thinking of the dear old face that usually watched 
 him from the corner of the fire-place, and of the kind words 
 that were showered on him while he breakfasted; but to-day 
 the faded lips were frozen forever, and the dim eyes would 
 never again brighten at his approach. 
 
 He sighed, brushed back the hair that clustered in glosBj 
 brown rings on his forehead, and rose. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 311 
 
 " Salome, if you are not particularly engaged this morning 
 I should be glad to see you in the library." 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 " Immediately, if you are at Idsure." 
 
 The orphan put aside the fold of crape which she was con- 
 verting into a collar, and inclined her head ^lightly. 
 
 Since that brief and painful interview held beside Miss 
 Jane's coffin, not a syllable had passed between them, and 
 the girl shrank with a vague, shivering dread from the im- 
 pending tete-d-tete. 
 
 Silently she followed the master of the house into the 
 library, where Dr. Grey drew two chairs to the table, and, 
 when she had seated herself in one, he took possession of the 
 other. 
 
 Opening a drawer, he selected several papers from' a mass 
 of what appeared to be legal documents, and spread them 
 before her. 
 
 "I wish to acquaint you with the contents of my sister's 
 will, which I examined last night. Will you read it, or shall 
 I briefly state her wishes ? " 
 
 " Tell me what you wish me to know." 
 
 She swept the papers into a pile, and pushed them away. 
 
 " Have you ever read a will ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 She leaned her elbows on the table, and rested her face in 
 her hands. 
 
 " AU these pages amount simply to this, — dear Jane made 
 her will immediately after my return from Europe, and its 
 provisions are: that this place, with house, land, furniture, 
 and stock, shall be given to and settled upon you; and more- 
 over that, for the ensuing five years, you shall receive every 
 January the sum of one thousand dollars. Until the ex- 
 piration of that period, she desired that I should act as your 
 guardian. By reference to the date and signature of these 
 papers, you will find that this will was made as soon as she 
 was able to sit up, after her illness produced by pneumonia; 
 but appended to the original is a codicil stating that the valid- 
 ity of the distribution of her estate, contained in the former 
 
312 ONTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 instrument, is contingent upon your conduct. Feeling most 
 earnestly opposed to your contemplated scheme of going upon 
 the stage as a prima donna, she solemnly declares, that, if 
 you persist in carrying your decision into execution, the fore- 
 going provisions shall be cancelled, and the house, land, and 
 furniture shall be given to Jessie and Stanley; while only one 
 thousand dollars is set apart as your portion. This codicil 
 was signed one month ago." 
 
 Dr. Grey glanced over the sheets of paper, and refolded 
 them, allowing his companion time for reflection and com- 
 ment, but she remained silent, and he added, — 
 
 " However your views may difEer from those entertained by 
 my sister, I hope you will not permit yourself to doubt that a 
 sincere desire to promote your life-long happiness prompted 
 the course she has pursued." 
 
 Five minutes elapsed, and the orphan sat mute and still. 
 
 " Salome, are you disappointed ? My dear friend, deal 
 frankly with me." 
 
 She lifted her pale, quiet face, and, for the first time in 
 many weeks, he saw unshed tears shining in her eyes, and 
 glittering on her lashes. 
 
 " I should be glad to know whether Miss Jane consulted 
 you, in the preparation of her will?" 
 
 " She conferred with me concerning the will, and I cordially 
 approved it; but of the codicil I knew nothing, until her 
 lawyer — Mr. Lindsay — called my attention to it yesterday 
 afternoon." 
 
 "You are very generous, Dr. Grey, and no one but you 
 would willingly divide your sister's estate with paupers, who 
 have so long imposed upon her bouniy. I had no expectation 
 that Miss Jane would so munificently remember me, and I 
 have not deserved the kindness which she has lavished on me. 
 for Jessie and Stanley I gratefully accept her noble gift, and 
 ft will place them far beyond the possibility of want; while 
 the only regret of which I am conscious, is, that I feel com- 
 pelled to pursue a career, which my best, my only friend 
 disapproved. In the name of poor little Jessie and Stanley,, I 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. SIS 
 
 thank you, sir, for consenting to such a generous bequest of 
 property that is justly yours. You, who — " 
 
 " Pray do not mention the matter, for independent of the 
 large legacy left me by my sister, my own fortune is so ample 
 that I deserve no thanks for willingly sharing that which I 
 do not need. My little sister, you must not rashly decide a 
 question which involves your future weKare, and I can not 
 and will not hear your views at present. Take one week for 
 calm deliberation, weigh the matter prayerfully and thought- 
 fully, and at the expiration of that time, meet me here, and 
 I will accept your decision." 
 
 She shook her head, and a dreary smile passed svriitly over 
 her passionless face. 
 
 " Twenty years of reflection would not alter, or in any 
 degree bend my determination, which is as firmly fixed as 
 the base of the Blue-Eidge; and — " 
 
 " Pardon me, Salome, but, until the week has elapsed, I do 
 not wish or intend to receive your verdict. Before this day 
 week, recollect all the reasons which dear Janet urged against 
 your scheme; recall the pain she suffered from the bare con- 
 templation of such a possibility, and her tender pleadings and 
 wise counsel. Ah, Salome, you are young and impulsive, but 
 I trust you will not close your ears against your brother's 
 earnest protest and appeal. If I were not sincerely attached 
 to you, I should not so persistently oppose your favorite 
 plan, which is fraught with perils and annoyances that you 
 can not now realize. Hush ! I will not listen to you to-day." 
 
 He rose, and laying his hands softly on her head, added, in 
 a solemn but tremulously tender tone, — 
 
 "And may God in His infinite wisdom and mercy over- 
 rule all things for your temporal and eternal welfare, and so 
 guide your decision, that peace and usefulness will be your 
 portion, now and forever." 
 
J14 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " Yes, Dr. Grey,' I am better than I ever expected or de- 
 sired to be in this world." 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, this is scarcely the recompense that my 
 anxious vigilance and ceaseless exertions merit at your hands." 
 
 The invalid leaned far back in her cushioned easy-chair, 
 and, as the physician rested his arm on the mantel-piece and 
 looked down at her, he thought of the lines that had more 
 than once recurred to his mind, since the commencement of 
 their acquaintance, — 
 
 " What finely carven features ! Yes, but carved 
 From some clear stuff, not like a woman's flesh, 
 And colored like half -faded, white-rose leaves. 
 'Tis all too thin, and wan, and wanting blood, 
 To take my taste. No fulness, and no flush I 
 A watery half -moon in a wintry sky 
 Looks less uncomfortably cold. And . . . well, 
 I never in the eyes of a sane woman 
 Saw such a strange, unsatisfied regard." 
 
 "I suppose I ought to be grateful to you. Dr. Grey, for 
 Katie and Eobert have told me how patiently and carefully 
 you nursed and watched over me, during my illness; but in- 
 stead of gratitude, I find it difiicult to forgive you for what 
 you 'have done. You fanned into a flame the spark of life 
 that was smouldering and expiring, and bafBed the disease 
 that came to me as the handmaid of Mercy. Death, trans- 
 formed into an angel of pity, kindly opened the door of escape 
 from the woe and weariness of this sin-cursed world, into the 
 calmness and dreamless rest of the yast shoreless Beyond; 
 and just when I was passing through, you snatched me back 
 to my burdens and my bitter lot. I know, of course, that 
 you intended only kindness, but you must not blame me if I 
 fail to thank you." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 315 
 
 " You forget that life is intended as a season of fiery proba- 
 tion, and that without suffering there is no purification, and 
 no reward. Eemember, ' Calm is not life's crown, though calm 
 is well ; ' and those who forego the pain must forego the 
 palm." 
 
 " I would gladly forego all things for a rest, — a sleep that 
 could know no end. Katie tells me I have been ill a month, 
 and from this brief season of oblivion you have dragged me 
 back to the existence that I abhor. Dr. Grey, I feel to-day aa 
 poor Maurice de Guerin felt, when he wrote . from Le Val, 
 ' My fate has knocked at the door to recall me ; for she had 
 not gone on her way, but had seated herself upon the thresh- 
 old, waiting until I had recovered sufficient strength to re- 
 sume my journey. " Thou hast tarried long enough," said 
 she to me ; " come forward ! " And she has taken me by the 
 hand, and behold her again on the march, like those poor 
 women one meets on the road, leading a child who follows 
 with a sorrowful air ' " 
 
 " There is a better guide provided, if you would only accept 
 and yield to his ministrations. For the flint-faced fate that 
 you accuse so virulently, substitute that tender and loving 
 guardian the Angel of Patience. 
 
 ' To weary hearts, to mourning homes, 
 God's meekest Angel gently comes. 
 
 There's quiet in that Angel's glance, 
 There's rest in his still countenance t 
 
 The ills and woes he may not cure 
 He kindly trains us to endure. 
 
 He walks with thee, that Angel kind. 
 And gently whispers, ' Be resigned.' 
 
 A moment since, you quoted De Guerin, and perhaps you may 
 recollect one of his declarations, ' I have no shelter but resig- 
 nation, and I run to it in great haste, all trembling and dis- 
 tracted. Resignation 1 It is the burrow hollowed in the cleft 
 
316 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 of some rock, which gives shelter to the flying and long- 
 hunted prey.' You will never find peace for your heart and 
 soul until you bring your will into complete subjection to that 
 of Him ' who doeth all things well.' Defiance and rebellious 
 struggles only aggravate your sorrows and trials." 
 
 She listened to the deep, quiet voice, as some unlettered 
 savage might hearken to the rhythmic music of Homer, 
 soothed by the tones, yet incapable of comprehending their 
 import; and as she looked up at the grave, kingly face, her" 
 eyes fell upon the broad band of crape that encircled his 
 straw hat, which had been hastily placed on the mantel- 
 piece. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, you ought to «peak advisedly, for Kobert told 
 me that you had recently lost your sister, and that you are 
 now alone in the world. You, who have severe afflictions, 
 should know how far resignation lightens them. I was much 
 pained to learn that your sister died while you were absent, — 
 while you were sitting up with me. Ah, sir ! you ought to have 
 watched her, and left me to my release. You have been very 
 kind and considerate toward one who has no claim upon 
 aught but your pity; and I would gladly lie down in your 
 sister's grave, and give her back to your heart and home." 
 
 Her countenance softened for an instant, and she held out 
 her hand. He took the delicate fingers in his, and pressed 
 them gently. 
 
 " God grant that your life may be spared, until all doubt 
 and bitterness is removed from your heart, and that when you 
 go down into the grave it may be as bright with the blessed 
 faith of a Christian as that which now contains my sister 
 Janet. Do not allow the gloom of earthly disappointment to 
 cloud your trust, but bear always in mind those cheering 
 words of Saadi, — 
 
 ' Says God, " Who comes towards me an inch through 
 doubtings dim, 
 In blazing light I do approach a yard towards him.' " 
 
 " If I am to be kept in this world until all the bitterness is 
 scourged out of me, I might as well resign myself to a career 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 317 
 
 as endless as that of Ahasuerus. I tell you, sir, I have been 
 forced to drink out of qliassia-cups until my whole being has 
 imbibed the bitter; and I am like that tree to which Firdousi 
 compared Mahmoud, ' Whose nature is so bitter, that were you 
 to plant it in the garden of Eden, and water it with the am- 
 brosial stream of Paradise, and were you to enrich its roots 
 with virgin honey, it would, after all, discover its innate dis- 
 position, and only yield the acrid fruit it had ever borne/ " 
 
 " What right have you to expect that existence should prove 
 one continued gala-season? When Christ went down meekly 
 into Gethsemane, that such as you and I might win a place in 
 the Eternal City, how dare you demand exemption from grief 
 and pain, that Jesus, your God, did not spare Himself ? Are 
 you purer than Christ, -and wiser than the Almighty, that 
 you impiously deride and question their code for the govern- 
 ment of the Universe, in which individual lives seem trivial 
 as the sands of the desert, or the leaves of the forest ? Oh ! it 
 is pitiable, indeed, to see some worm writhing in the dust, and 
 blasphemously dictating laws to Him who svning suns and 
 asterisms in space, and breathed into its own feeble fragment 
 of clay the spark that enabled it to insult its God. Put away 
 such unwomanly scoffing, — such irreverent puerilities; sweep 
 your soul clean of all such wretched rubbish, and when you 
 feel tempted to repine at your lot, recollect the noble admoni- 
 tion of Dschelaleddin, ' If this world were our abiding-place, 
 we might complain that it makes our bed so hard; but it is 
 only our night-quarters on a journey, and who can expect 
 home comforts?" 
 
 " I can not feel resigned to my lot. It is too hard, — ^too 
 unjust." 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, are you more just and prescient than 
 Jehovah ? " 
 
 She passed her thin hand across her face, and was silent, 
 for his voice and manner awed her. After a little while, she 
 sat erect in her chair, and tried to rise. 
 
 " Doctor, if you could look down into the gray ruins of my 
 heart, you would not reprove me so harshly. My whole being 
 seems in some cold eclipse, and my soul is like the Sistine 
 
318 VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Chapel in Passion-week, where all is shrouded in shadow, and 
 no sounds are heard but Misereres and Tenebrse." 
 
 " Promise me that in future you will try to keep it like 
 that Christian temple, pure and inviolate from all impreca- 
 tions and rebellious words. If gloom there must be, see to it 
 that resignation seals your lips. What are you trying to do? 
 You are not strong enough to walk alone." 
 
 " I want to go into the parlor, — I want my piano. Yester- 
 day I attempted to cross the room, and only Katie's presence 
 saved me from a severe fall." 
 
 She stood by her chair, grasping the carved back, and Dr. 
 Grey stepped forward, and drew her arm under his. 
 
 In her great weakness she leaned upon him, and when they 
 reached the parlor door, she paused and almost panted. 
 
 " You must not attempt to play, — you are too feeble even 
 to sit up longer. Let me take you back to your room." 
 
 "No, — no! Let me alone. I know best what is good for 
 me; and I tell you my piano is my only Paraclete." 
 
 Holding his arm for support, she drew a chair instead of 
 the piano-stool to the instrument, and seated herself. 
 
 Dr. Grey raised the lid, and waited some seconds, expecting 
 her to play, but she sat still and mute, and presently he 
 stooped to catch a glimpse of her countenance. 
 
 " I want to see Elsie's grave. Open the blinds." 
 
 He threw open the shutters, and came back to the piano. 
 
 Through the window, the group of deodars was visible, and 
 there, bathed in the mild yellow sunshine was the mound, and 
 the faded wreath swinging in the breeze. 
 
 For many minutes Mrs. Gerome gazed at the quiet spot 
 where her nurse rested, and with her eyes still on the grave, 
 her fingers struck into Chopin's Funeral March. 
 
 After a while. Dr. Grey noticed a slight quiver cross her 
 pale lips, and when the mournful, music reached its saddest 
 chords, a mist veiled the steely eyes, and very soon tears rolled 
 slo\^ly down her cheeks^ 
 
 The march ended, she did not pause, but began Mozart's 
 Eequiem, and all the while that slow rain of tears dripped 
 down an her white fingers, and splashed upon the ivory keys. 
 
VNTIL DEATH V8 DO PART. ZU 
 
 Dr. Grey was so rejoiced at the breaking up of the ice that 
 had long frozen the fountain of her tears, that he made no 
 attempt to interrupt her, until he saw that she tottered in 
 her chair. Taking her hands from the piano, he said 
 gently,— 
 
 "You are quite exhausted, and I can not permit this to 
 continue. Come back to your room." 
 
 " No ; let me stay here. Put me on the sofa in the oriel, and 
 leave the blinds open." 
 
 He lifted her from the chair and led her to the sofa, where 
 she sank heavily down upon the cushions. 
 
 Without comment or resistance, she drank a glass of strong 
 cordial which he held to her lips, and lay with her eyes closed, 
 while tears still trickled through the long jet lashes. 
 
 She wore a robe of white merino, and a rich blue shawl of 
 the same soft material which was folded across her shoulders, 
 made the wan face look like some marble seraph's, hovering 
 over an altar where violet light streams through stained glass. 
 
 For some time Dr. Grey walked up and down the long room, 
 glancing now and then at his patient, and when he saw that 
 the tears had ceased, he brought from a basket in the hall an 
 exquisitely beautiful and fragrant bouquet of the flowers 
 which he knew she loved best, — ^heliotrope, violets, tube-rose, 
 and Grand-Duke jessamine, fringed daintily with spicy gera- 
 nium leaves, and scarlet fuchsias. 
 
 Silently he placed it on her folded hands, and the expression 
 of surprise and pleasure J;hat suddenly lighted her counte- 
 nance, amply repaid him. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, it has been my wish to except services *rom no 
 one, — to owe no human being thanks; but your unvarying 
 kindness to my poor Elsie and to me, imposes a debt of grati- 
 tude that I can not easily liquidate. I fear you are destined 
 to bankrupt me, for how can I hope to repay all your thought- 
 ful, delicate care, and generous interest in a stranger? Tell 
 me in what way I can adequately requite you." 
 
 Dr. Grey drew a chair close to the sofa, and answered, — 
 
 " Take care lest your zeal prove the contrary, for you know 
 a distinguished philosopher asserts that, ' Too great eagernee; 
 
320 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 to requite an obligation is a species of ingratitude ; ' and such 
 an accusation would be unflattering to you, and unpleasant 
 to me." 
 
 Turning the bouquet around in order to examine and ad- 
 mire each flower, Mrs. Gerome toyed with the velvet bells, and 
 said, sorrowfully, — 
 
 " Their delicious perfume always reminds me of my beauti- 
 ful home near Funchal, where heliotrope and geraniums grew 
 60 tall that they looked in at my window, and hedges of fuch- 
 sias bordered my garden walks. Never have I seen elsewhere 
 such profusion and perfection of flowers." 
 
 " When were you in Madeira ? " 
 
 " Two years ago. The viUa I occupied was situated on the 
 side of a mountain, whose base was covered with vineyards; 
 and from a grove of lemon and oleanders that stood in front 
 of the house I could see the surging Atlantic at my feet, and 
 the crest of the mountain clothed with chestnuts, high above 
 and behind me. In one corner of my vineyard stood a solitary 
 palm, which tradition asserted was planted when Zarco dis- 
 covered the island ; and the groves of orange, citron, and pome- 
 granate trees were always peopled with humming-birds, and 
 flocks of green canaries. There, surrounded by grand and 
 picturesque scenery of which I never wearied, I resolved to 
 live and die; but Elsie's desire to return to America, which 
 held the ashes of her husband and child, overruled my in- 
 clination and the dictates of judgment, and reluctantly I 
 left my mountain Eden and came here. Now, when I smeU 
 violets and heliotrope, regret mingles with their aroma ; and, 
 after all, the sacriflce was in vain, and Elsie would have slept 
 as calmly there, under palm and chestnut, as yonder, where 
 the deodar-shadows fall." 
 
 " Is your life here a faithful transcript of that portion of it 
 passed at Funchal? " 
 
 "Yes; except that there I saw no human being but the 
 servants, who transacted any business that demanded inter- 
 views with the consul." 
 
 " It was fortunate that Elsie's wise counsel prevailed over 
 your caprice, for many of your griefs proceed from the com- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 321 
 
 plete isolation to which you so strangely doom yourself; and 
 until you become a useful member of that society you are so 
 fully fitted to adorn and elevate, you need not hope or expect 
 the peace of mind that results only from the consciousness of 
 having nobly discharged the sacred obligations to God, and 
 to your race. ' Bear ye one another's burdens,' was the solemn 
 admonition of Etim who sublimely bore the burdens of an en- 
 tire world. Now tell me, have you ever stretched out a finger 
 to aid th«J toiling multitudes whose cry for help wails over 
 even the most prosperous lands? What have you done to 
 strengthen trembling hands, or comfort and gladden op- 
 pressed hearts ? How dare you hoard within your own home 
 the treasure of fortune, talent, and sympathy, which were 
 temporarily entrusted to your hands, to be sown broadcast in 
 noble charities, — to be judiciously invested in promoting the 
 cause of Truth in the fierce war Evil wages against it? 
 Hitherto you have lived solely for yourself, which is a sia 
 against humanity; and have pampered a morbid" and rebellious 
 spirit, that is a grevious sin against your God. Shake off 
 your lethargy and cynicism, and let a busy future redeem a 
 vagrant and worthless past. * He that goeth forth and weep- 
 eth, hearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with re- 
 joicing, bringing his sheaves with him.'" 
 
 The flowers dropped on her bosom, and, clasping her hands 
 across her forehead, she turned her face towards the sea, and 
 seemed pondering his words. 
 
 "Dr. Grey, my purse has always been open to the needy, 
 and Elsie was my almoner. Whenever you find a destitute 
 family, or hear an appeal for help, I shall gladly respond, and, 
 constitute you the agent for the distribution of my charity- 
 fund. As for bearing the sorrows of others, pray excuse me. 
 I am so weighed down with my own burdens that I have no 
 strength or leisure to spare to my neighbors, and since I ask 
 no aid, must not be censured for rendering none. It is ut- 
 terly useless to urge me to enter society, for like that sad 
 pilgrim in Brittany, 'In losing solitude I lose the half of my 
 soul. I go out into the world with a secret horror. When I 
 withdraw, I gather together and lock up my scattered treasure, 
 21 
 
322 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 but I put away my ideas sorely handled, like fruits fallen from 
 the tree upon stones.' Ko, no; in seclusion I find the only 
 modicum of peace that earth can ever yield me, and can 
 readily understand why Chateaubriand avoided those crowds 
 which he denominated, * The vast desert of men.' " 
 
 " You must not be offended, if, in reply, I remind you of 
 the rude but vigorous words of that prince of cynics, Schopen- 
 hauer, ' Society is a fire at which the wise man from a prudent 
 distance warms himself; not plunging into it, like the fool 
 who after getting well blistered, rushes into the coldness of 
 solitude, and complains that the fire bums.' Of the two evils, 
 reckless dissipation and gloomy isolation, the latter is prob- 
 ably an economy of sin; but since neither is inevitable, we 
 should all endeavor to render ourselves useful members of 
 society, and unfurl over our circle the banner of St. Paul, 
 'Use this world as not abusing it.' Mrs. Gerome, do not ob- 
 stinately mar the present and future, by brooding bitterly 
 over the trials of the past; but try to believe that, indeed, — 
 
 ' Sorrows humanizs our race ; 
 Tears are the showers that fertilize this world. 
 And memory of things precious keepeth warm . 
 The heart that once did hold them. ' " 
 
 He watched her eagerly yet gravely, hoping that her face 
 would soften; but she raised her hand with a proud, im- 
 patient motion. 
 
 "You talk at random, concerning matters of which you 
 know nothing. I hate the world and have abjured it, and you 
 might as well go down yonder and harangue the ocean on the 
 sin of its ceaseless muttering, as expect to remodel my aimless, 
 blank life." 
 
 Pained and disappointed, he remained silent, and, as if 
 conscious of a want of courtesy, she added, — 
 
 " Do not allow your generous heart to be disquieted on my 
 account, but leave me to a fate which can not be changed, — 
 which I have endured seven years, and must bear to my grave. 
 Now that you see how desolate I am, pity me, and be silent." 
 
 " It vrill ba difl&cult for you to regain your strength here, 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 323 
 
 where so many mournful associations surround you, and I 
 came to-day to beg you to take a trip somewhere, by sea or 
 land. Ahnost any change of scene and air will materially 
 benefit you, and you need not be absent more than a few weeks. 
 Will you take the matter under consideration ? " 
 
 "No, sir; why should I? Can hills or waves, dells or 
 lakes, cure a mind which you assure me is diseased ? Can sea 
 breeze or mountain air fan out recollections that have jaun- 
 diced the heart, or furnish an opiate that will effectually 
 deaden and quiet regret? I long ago tried your remedy — 
 travelling, and for four years I wandered up and down, and 
 over the face of the old world; but amid the crumbling 
 columns of Persepolis, I was still Agla Gerome, the wretched ; 
 and when I stood on the margin of the Lake of Wan, I saw in 
 its waves the reflection of the same hopeless woman who now 
 lies before you. Change of external surroundings is futile, 
 and no more affects the soul than the roar of surface-surf 
 changes the hollow of an ocean bed where the dead sleep; 
 and, verily, — 
 
 ' My heart is a drear Golgotha, where all the ground is 
 white 
 With the wrecks of joys that have perished, — 
 the skeletons of delight.' " 
 
 He saw that in her present mood expostulation would only 
 aggravate the evil he longed to correct, and hoping to divert 
 the current of her thoughts, he said, — 
 
 "I trust you will not deem. me impertinently curious if I 
 ask what singular freak bestowed upon you the name of 
 'Agla'?" 
 
 A startling change swept over her features, and her tone 
 was haughtily challenging. 
 
 " What interest can Dr. Grey find in a matter so trivial ? If 
 I were named Hecate or Persephone, would the world have a 
 right to demur, to complain, or to criticise ? " 
 
 " When a lady bears the mystic name, which, in past ages, 
 was given to the Deity, by a race who, if superstitious, were 
 at least devout and reverent, she should not be surprised if it 
 
324 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 excites wonder and comment. Forgive me, however, if my in« 
 quiry annoyed you." 
 
 He rose and took his hat, but her hand caught his arm. 
 
 " Do you know the import of the word ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I understand the significance of the letters, and the 
 wonderful power attributed to them when arranged in the 
 triangles and called the * Shield of David.' Knowing that it 
 was considered talismanic, I could not imagine why you were 
 christened with so mystical a name." 
 
 " I was never christened." 
 
 He could not explain the confusion and displeasure which 
 the question excited, and anxious to relieve her of any feeling 
 of annoyance, he added, — 
 
 "Have you ever looked into the nature of the Aglao- 
 photis?" 
 
 She struggled up from her cushions, and exclaimed, with a 
 vehemence that startled him, — 
 
 "What induced you to examine it? I know that it is a 
 strange plant, growing out of solid marble, and accounted a 
 charm by Arab magicians. Well, Dr. Grey, do not I belong 
 to that species? You see before you a human specimen of 
 Aglaophotis, growing out of a marble heart." 
 
 Sometimes an exaggerated whimsicality trenches so closely 
 upon insanity, that it is difficult to discriminate between 
 them; and, as Dr. Grey noted the peculiarly cold glitter of 
 her large eyes, and the restless movement of her usually quiet 
 hands, he dreaded that the crushing weight on her heart 
 would ultimately impair her mind. Now he abruptly changed 
 the topic. 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, whenever it is agreeable to you to drive 
 down the beach or across the woods and among the hills, it 
 will afford me much pleasure to place my horse, buggy, and 
 myself at your disposal ; and, in fine weather like this, a drive 
 of a few miles would invigorate you." 
 
 " Thank you. I shall not trouble you, for I have my low- 
 swung easy carriage, and my grays — my fatal grays. Ah if 
 they would only serve me as they did my poor Elsie ! When 
 I am strong enough to take the reins, I will allow them aa 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 325 
 
 opportunity. Dr. Grey, if I seem rude, forgive me. You are 
 very kind and singularly patient, and sometimes when you 
 have left me, I feel ashamed of my inability to prove my 
 sincere appreciation of your goodness. For these beautiful 
 flowers, I thank you cordially." 
 
 She held out her hand, and, as he accepted it, he drew from 
 his pocket the silver key which he had so carefully preserved. 
 
 "Accident made me the custodian of this key, which I 
 found on the floor the day of Elsie's burial. Knowing that it 
 belonged to your escritoire, whence I saw you take it, I 
 thought it best not to commit it to a servant's care, and have 
 kept it in my pocket until I thought you might need it." 
 
 Although the room was growing dim, he detected the ex- 
 pression of dread that crossed her countenance, and saw her 
 bite her thin lip with vexation. 
 
 " You have worn for one month the key of my desk, where 
 lie all my papers and records ; and when I was so desperately 
 ill, I presume you looked into the drawers, merely to ascertain 
 whether I had prepared my will ? " 
 
 The mockery of her tone stung him keenly, but he allowed 
 no evidence of the wound to escape him. Bending over her as 
 she sat partially erect, supported by cushions, he took her 
 white face tenderly in his hands, and said, very calmly and 
 gently,— 
 
 " When you know me better, you will realize how groundless 
 is your apprehension that I have penetrated into the recesses 
 of your writing-desk. Knowing that it contained valuable 
 papers, I guarded it as jealously as you could have done; and, 
 upon the honor of a gentleman, I assure you I am as ignorant 
 of its contents as if I had never entered the house. Wlien I 
 consider it essential to my peace of mind to become acquainted 
 with your antecedents, I shall come to you and ask what I 
 degire to learn. While you were so ill, I told Eobert that your 
 friends should be notified of your imminent danger, and in- 
 quired of him whether you had made a will, as I deemed it 
 my duty to inform your agent of your alarming condition. 
 He either could not or would not give me any satisfactory 
 reply, and there the matter ended. When I am gone, do not 
 
326 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 reproach yourself for having so unjustly impugned my 
 motives, for I shall not allow myself to believe that you really 
 entertain so contemptible an opinion of me; and shall ascribe 
 your hasty accusation to mere momentary chagrin and pique." 
 
 " Ah, sir ! you ought not to wonder that I am so suspicious ; 
 you — but how can you understand the grounds of my dis- 
 trust, unless — " 
 
 " Hush ! We will not discuss a matter which can only ex- 
 cite and annoy you. Mrs. Gerome, under all circumstances 
 you may unhesitatingly trust me, and I beg to assure you I 
 shall never divulge anything confided to me. You need a 
 friend, and perhaps some day you may consider me worthy to 
 serve you in that capacity; meantime,, as your physician, I 
 shall continue to watch over and control you. To-day you 
 have cruelly overtasked your . exhausted system, and I can 
 not permit you to remain here any longer. Come immediately 
 to your own room." 
 
 His manner was so quietly authoritative that she obeyed 
 instantly, and when he lifted her from the sofa, she took his 
 arm, and walked towards the door. Before they had crossed 
 the hall, he felt her reel and lean more heavily against him, 
 and silently he took the thin form in his arms, and carried 
 her to her room. 
 
 The gray head was on his shoulder, and the cold marble 
 cheek touched his, as he laid her softly down on her bed and 
 arranged her pillows. He rang for Katie, and, in crossing 
 the floor, stepped on something hard. It was too dusky in 
 the closely curtained apartment to see any object so small, 
 but he swept his hand across the carpet and picked up the 
 key that had slipped from her nerveless fingers. Placing it 
 beside her, he smiled and said, — 
 
 " You are incorrigibly careless. Are you not afraid to tax 
 my curiosity so severely, and tempt me so pertinaciously, by 
 strewing your keys in my path? The next time I pick up 
 this one, which belongs to your escritoire, I shall engage some 
 one to act as your guardian. Katie, be sure she takes that 
 tonic mixture three times a day. Good-night." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 32Y 
 
 When the sound of his retreating footsteps died away, Mrs. 
 Gerome thrust the key under her pillow, and murmured, — 
 
 " I wonder whether this Ulpian can be as true, as trusty, as 
 nobly fearless as his grand old Koman namesake, whom not 
 even the purple of Severus could save from martyrdom ? Ah ! 
 if Tlpian Grey is really all that he appears. But how dare I 
 hope, much less believe it ? Verily, he reminds me of Madame 
 de Ohatenay's description of Joubert, ' He seems to be a soul 
 that by accident had met with a body, and tried to make the 
 best of it.'" 
 
 "Did you speak to me, ma'am?" asked Katie, who was 
 bustling about, preparing to light the lamp. 
 
 " No. The room is like a tomb. Open the blinds and loop 
 back all the curtains, so that I can look out." 
 
 " And the sunset paled, and warmed once more 
 With a softer, tenderer after-glow ; 
 in the east was moon-rise, with boats off-shore 
 And sails in the distance drifting slow." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 " DocTOE Grey, sister says she wants to see you, before you 
 go to town." 
 
 Jessie Owen came softly up to the table where Dr Grey sat 
 writing, and stood with her hand on his knee. 
 
 "Very well. Tell sister I will come to her as soon as I 
 finish this letter. Where is she ? " 
 
 "In the library." 
 
 "In ten minutes I shall be at leisurie." 
 
 He found Salome with a piece of sewing in her' hand, and 
 her young sister leaning on her lap, chattering merrily about 
 a nest full of eggs which she and Stanley had found that 
 morning in a corner of the orchard ; while the latter swung on 
 the back of her chair, winding over his finger a short curl 
 that lay on her neck. It was a pleasant, peaceful, homelike 
 picture, worthy of Eastman Johnson's brush, and for thirty 
 
328 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 years such a group had not been seen in that quiet old library. 
 
 Dr. Grey paused at the threshold, to admire the graceful 
 pose of Jessie's fairy figure, — the lazy nonchalance of Stanley's 
 posture,^ — and the finely shaped head that rose above both, 
 like some stately lily, surrounded by clustering eroci; but 
 Salome was listening for his footsteps, and turned her head at 
 his entrance. 
 
 ^ " Stanley, take Jessie up to my room, and show her your 
 Chinese puzzle. Wlien I want either or both of you, I will 
 call you. Close the door after you, and mind that you do 
 not get to romping, and shake the house down." 
 
 " How very pretty Jessie has grown during the last year. 
 Her complexion has lost its muddy tinge, and is almost 
 waxen," said the doctor, when the. children had left the room 
 and scampered up stairs. 
 
 " She is a very sweet-tempered and affectionate little thing, 
 but I never considered her pretty. She is too much like her 
 father." 
 
 " Salome, death veils all blemishes." 
 
 " That depends very much on the character of the survivors ; 
 but we will not discuss abstract propositions, — especially 
 since I have resolved to follow the old oriental maxim, — 
 
 ' Leave ancestry behind, despise heraldic art, 
 Thy father be thy mind, thy mother be thy heart. 
 Dead names concern not thee, bid foreign titles wait ; 
 Thy deeds thy pedigree, thy hopes thy rich estate ! ' 
 
 Dr. Grey, the week has ended, and I took the liberty of re- 
 minding you of the fact, as I am anxious to acquaint you 
 with my purposes for the future." 
 
 He drew a chair near hers, and seated himself. 
 
 " Well, Salome, I hope that reflection has changed your 
 views, and taught you the wisdom of my sister's course with 
 reference to yourself." 
 
 " On the contrary, the season of deliberation you forced 
 upon me has only strengthened and intensified my desire 
 to carry into execution the project I have so long dreamed of; 
 and to-day I am more than ever firmly resolved to follow, at 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 329 
 
 all hazards, the dictates of my own judgment, no matter 
 with whose opinions or wishes they may conflict." 
 
 She expected that he would expostulate, and plead against 
 her decision, but he merely bowed, and remained silent. 
 
 " My object in asking this interview was to ascertain how 
 soon it would be convenient for you to place in my hands the 
 legacy of one thousand dollars which was bequeathed to me on 
 condition that I went upon the stage; and also to inquire 
 what you intend to do with the children, of whom Miss Jane's 
 will constitutes you the guardian ? " 
 
 " You wish me to understand that you are determined to 
 defy the wishes of your best friend, and take a step which 
 distressed her beyond expression ? " 
 
 " I shall certainly go upon the stage." 
 
 " I have no alternative but to accept your decision, which 
 you are well aware I regard as exceedingly deplorable. The 
 money can be paid to you to-morrow, if you desire it. Hop- 
 ing that you would abandon this freak, I had intended to keep 
 the children here, under your supervision, while I removed to 
 my house in town, and left their tuition to Miss Dexter ; but 
 since you have decided otherwise, I shall remain here for the 
 present, keeping them with me, at least until after Muriel's 
 marriage. The income from this farm averages two thousand 
 dollars a year, and will not only amply provide for their 
 wants and education, but will enable me to lay aside annually 
 a portion of that amount. When Muriel marries. Miss Dex- 
 ter may not be willing to remain here, and if she leaves us I 
 shall endeavor to find as worthy and reliable a substitute. 
 Have you any objection to this arrangement ? " 
 
 " I have no right to utter any, since you are the legal guar- 
 dian of the children. But contingencies might arise for which 
 it seems you have not provided." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that I can trust Jessie and Stanley to you, but 
 when you are married I prefer that they should find another 
 home; or, if need be, Jessie can come to me." 
 
 An angry flush dyed Dr. Grey's olive face, and kindled a 
 fiery gleam in his usually mild, clear, blue eyes, but looking at 
 
330 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the girl's compressed and trembling lips, and noting the un- 
 derlying misery which her defiant expression could not cover, 
 his displeasure gave place to profound compassion. 
 
 " Salome, dismiss that cause of anxiety from your mind, 
 and trust the assurance I offer you now, — that when I marry, 
 my wife will be worthy to assist me in guiding and governing 
 my wards." 
 
 She was prepared to hear him retort that the career she had 
 chosen would render her an unsuitable counsellor for little 
 Jessie; and conscious that she had deeply wounded him, his 
 calm reply was the sharpest rebuke he could possibly have 
 administered. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I have no extraordinary amount of tenderness 
 for the children, because they are indissolubly associated with 
 that period of my life to which' I never recur without pain 
 and humiliation that you can not possibly realize or compre- 
 hend ; still, I am not exactly a brute> and I do not wish them 
 to be trained to regard me as a Pariah, or to be told that I 
 have forfeited their respect and affection. When I am gone, 
 let them think kindly of me." 
 
 " Your request is a reflection upon my friendship, and is 
 BO exceedingly unjust that I am surprised and pained ; but let 
 that pass. I am sure I need not tell you that your wishes 
 shall- be complied with. I have often thought that after 
 Stanley completed his studies, I would take him into my oflace, 
 and teach him my own profession. Have you any objection 
 to this scheme?" 
 
 "No, sir. I am willing to trust him implicitly to you. 
 He has one terrible fault which I have been trying to correct, 
 and which I hope you will not lose sight of. The boy seems 
 constitutionally addicted to telling stories, and prefers false- 
 hood to truth. I have punished him repeatedly for this habit, 
 and you must, if possible, save him from the pauper vice of 
 lying, which is peculiarly detestable to me. I know less of 
 the little one's character, but believe that she is not afflicted 
 with this evil tendency." 
 
 " Stanleiy's fault has not escaped me, and two days ago I 
 was obliged to punish him for a gross violation of the truth j 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 331 
 
 but as he grows older, I trust he will correct this defect, and 
 I shall faithfully endeavor to show him its enormity. Is 
 there anything else you wish to say to me about the children ? 
 I will very gladly hear any suggestions you can offer." 
 
 " No, sir. I have governed myself so badly, that it ill be- 
 comes me to dictate to you how they should be trained. God 
 knows, I am heartily glad they were mercifully thrown into 
 your hands; and if you can only make Stanley Owen such a 
 man as you are, the old blot on the name may be effaced. 
 From Mark and Joel I have not heard for several months, and 
 presume they will be sturdy but unlettered mechanics. If I 
 succeed; I shall interfere and send them to school; otherwise, 
 they must take the chances for letters and a livelihood." 
 
 " Salome, you are bartering life-long peace and happiness 
 for the momentary gratification of a whim, prompted solely 
 by vanity. How worthless are the brief hollow plaudits of 
 the world (which will regard you merely as the toy of an 
 hour), in comparison with the affection and society of your 
 own family? Here, in your home, how useful, how contented 
 you might be ! " 
 
 Her only reply was a hasty, imperious wave of the hand, 
 and a long silence followed. 
 
 In the bright morning light that streamed in through the 
 tendrils of honeysuckle clambering around the window. Dr. 
 Grey looked searchingly at the orphan, and could scarcely 
 realize that this pale, proud, pain-stricken face, was the same 
 rosy round one, fair and fearless, that had first met his gaze 
 under the pearly apple-blossoms. 
 
 Then, pink flesh, hazel eyes, vermillioned lips, and glossy 
 hair had preferred incontestable claims to beauty; now, an 
 artist would have curiously traced the fine lines and curves 
 daintily drawn about eyes, brow and mouth, by the stylus of 
 care, of hopelessness, of wild bursts of passion. Her figure 
 retained its rounded symmetry, but the countenance trai- 
 torously revealed the struggles, the bitter disappointments, the 
 vindictive jealousy, and rudely-smitten and blasted hopes, 
 that had robbed her days of peace and her nights of sleep. 
 
 Until this moment, Dr. Grey had not fully appreciated the 
 
332 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 change that had been wrought by two tedious years, and as he 
 scrutinized the sadly sharpened and shadowed features, a 
 painful feeling of humiliation and almost of self-reproach 
 sprang from the consciousness that his inability to reciprocate 
 her devoted love had brought down this premature blight up- 
 on a young and whilom happy, careless girl, — transforming 
 her into a reckless, hardened, hopeless woman. 
 
 While his inexorable conscience fully exonerated him from 
 censure, his generous heart ached in sympathy for hers, and 
 his chivalric tenderness for all things weaker than himself, 
 bled at the reflection that he had been unintentionally instru- 
 mental in darkening a woman's life. 
 
 But hope, — beautiful, blue-eyed, sunny-browed hope, — 
 whispered that this was a fleeting youthful fancy; and that 
 absence and time would dispel the temporary gloom that now 
 lay on her heart, like some dense cold vapor which would 
 grow silvery, and melt in morning sunshine. 
 
 Under his steady gaze the blood rose slowly to its old signal- 
 station on her cheeks, and she put up one hand to shield its 
 scarlet banners. 
 
 " Salome, will you tell me when and where you intend to 
 go ? Since you have resolved to leave us, I desire to know in 
 what way I can aid you, or contribute to the comfort of the 
 journey you contemplate." 
 
 "From the last letter of Professor V , declining your 
 
 proposal that he should come here and instruct me, I learn 
 that within the ensuing ten days he will sail for Havre, en 
 route to Italy, where he intends spending th^ winter. If 
 possible, I wish to reach New York before his departure, and 
 to accompany him. The thousand dollars will defray my ex- 
 penses until I have completed my musical training, which 
 will fit me for the stage, and insure an early engagement in 
 some operatic company. Knowing your high estimate of 
 
 Professor V , both as a gentleman and as a musician, I 
 
 am exceedingly anxious to place myself under^is protection; 
 especially since his wife and children will meet him at Paris, 
 and go on to Naples. Are you willing to give me a letter of 
 introduction, commending me to his favorable considera- 
 tion?" 
 
fTNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 333 
 
 The hesitating timidity with which this request was uttered, 
 touched him more painfully than aught that had ever passed 
 between them. 
 
 " My dear child, did you suppose that I would permit you 
 to travel alone to New York, and thrust yourself upon the 
 notice of strangers? I will accompany you whenever you go, 
 and not only present you to the professor, hut request him 
 to receive you into his family as a member of his home-circle." 
 
 A quiver shook out the hard lines around her lips, and she 
 turned her eyes full on his. 
 
 "You are very kind, sir, but that is not necessary; and a 
 letter of introduction will have the same effect, and save you 
 from a disagreeable trip. Your time is too valuable to be 
 wasted on such journeys, and I have no right to expect that 
 solely on my account you should tear yourself away — from — 
 those dear to you." 
 
 " I think my time could not be more profitably employed 
 than in promoting the happiness and welfare of my adopted 
 sister, who was so inexpressibly dear to my noble Janet. It 
 is neither pleasant nor proper for a young lady to travel with- 
 out an escort." 
 
 He had risen, and laid his hand lightly on the back of her 
 chair. 
 
 " She smiled ; but he could see arise 
 Her soul from far adown her eyes, 
 Prepared as if for sacrifice.'' 
 
 " Is it a mercy, think you. Dr. Grey, to foster a fastidious- 
 ness that can only barb the shafts of penury? What right 
 have toiling paupers to harbor in their thoughts those dainty 
 scruples that belong appropriately to princesses and palaces? 
 Why tell me that this, that, or the other step is not ' proper,' 
 when you know that necessity goads me ? Sir, I feel now like 
 that isolated Florentine, and echo her words, — 
 
 ' And since help 
 Must come to me from those who love me not, 
 Farewell, all helpers. I must help oiyself , 
 And am alone from henceforth." 
 
334 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "You prefer that I should not accompany you to New 
 York?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; but I gratefully accept a letter to Professor 
 V ." 
 
 "Very well; it shall be in readiness when you wish it. 
 Have you fixed any time for your departure ? " 
 
 " This is Friday, — and I shall go on the six o'clock train, 
 Monday morning." 
 
 "Is there any service that I can render you in the in- 
 terim ?" 
 
 " No, thank you." 
 
 " As you have no likeness of the children, would it be agree- 
 able to you to have their photographs taken to-day, — and, at 
 the same time, a picture of yourself to be left with them ? If 
 you desire it I will meet you in town, at the gallery, at any 
 hour you may designate." 
 
 Standing before him, she answered, almost scornfully, — 
 
 "I shall not have time. Some day — if I succeed — I will 
 send them my photograph, taken in gorgeous robes as prima 
 donna; provided you promise that said robes shall not con- 
 stitute a San Benito, and doom the picture to the flames. 
 I will detain you no longer. Dr. Grey, as the sole object of 
 the interview has been accomplished." 
 
 " Pardon me ; but I have a word to say. Your career will 
 probably be brilliantly successful, in which event you will feel 
 no want of admirers and friends, — and will doubtless ignore 
 me for those who flatter you more, and really love you less. 
 But, Salome, failure may overtake you, bringing in its train 
 countless evils that at present you can not realize, — ^poverty, 
 'disease, desolation, in the midst of strangers, — and all the 
 woes that, like hungry wolves, attack homeless, isolated 
 women. I earnestly hope that the ieprous hand of disaster 
 and defeat may never be laid upon your future, but the most 
 cautious human schemes are fallible — often futile-^and if you 
 should be unsuccessful in your programme, and find yourself 
 unable to consummate your plans, I ask you now, by the 
 memory of our friendship, by the sacred memory of the dead, 
 to promise me that you will immediately write and acquaint 
 me with all your needs, your wishes, your real condition. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 335 
 
 Promise me, dear Salome, that you will tarn instantly to me, 
 as you would to Stanley, were he in my place, — ^that you will 
 let me prove myself your elder brother, — ^your truest, best 
 friend." 
 
 He put his hand on her head, but she recoiled haughtily 
 from his touch. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I promise you, 
 
 ' I will not soil thy purple with my dust, 
 Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass.' 
 
 I promise you that if misfortune, failure, and penury lay 
 hold of me, you shall be the last human being who will learn 
 it ; for I will cloak myself under a name that will not betray 
 me, and crawl into some lazaretto, and be buried in some 
 potter's field, among other mendicants, — ^unknown, 'unwept, 
 unhonored, and tinsung.' " 
 
 If some motherless young chamois, rescued from destruc- 
 tion, and pampered and caressed, had suddenly turned, and 
 savagely bitten and lacerated the hand that fondled and fed it. 
 Dr. Grey would not have been more painfully startled; but 
 experience had taught him the uselessness of expostulation 
 during her moods of perversity, and he took his hat and 
 turned away, saying, almost sternly, — 
 
 "Bear in mind that neither palace nor potter's field can 
 screen you from the scrutiny of your Maker, or mask and 
 shelter your shivering soul in the solemn hour when He de- 
 mands its last reckoning." 
 
 " Which ' reckoning,' your eminently Christian charity as- 
 sures you will prove more terrible for me than the Bloody 
 Assizes. ' By the memory of our friendship ! ' Oh, shallow 
 sham ! Pinning my faith to the dictum, ' The tide of friend- 
 ship does not rise high on the bank of perfection,' my fatuity 
 led me to expect that your friendship was wide as the uni- 
 verse, and lasting as eternity. Wise Helvetius told me that, 
 'To be loved, we should merit but little esteem; all superi- 
 ority attracts awe and aversion ; ' ergo, since my credentials 
 •f unworthiness were indisputable, I laid claim to a vast 
 
336 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART, 
 
 share of your favor. But, alas ! the logic of the seers is well- 
 nigh as hollow as my hopes." 
 
 Ho looked over his shoulder at her, with an expression of 
 pity as profound as that which must have filled the eyes of 
 the angel, who, standing in the blaze of the sword of wrath, 
 watched Adam and Eve go mournfully forth into the blister- 
 ing heats of unknown lands. Before he could reply, she 
 laughed contemptuously, and continued, — 
 
 " Nil desperandum. Dr. Grey. Remember that, ' Faith and 
 persistency are life's architects ; while doubt and despair bury 
 air under the ruins of any endeavor.' When I have trilled 
 tt fortune into that abhorred vacuum, iny pocket, I shall go 
 down to the Tigris, and catch the mate to Tobias' fish, and 
 by the cremation thereof, fumigate my pestiferous soul, and 
 smoke out the Asmodeus that has so long and comfortably 
 dwelt there.* 
 
 " God grant you a Raphael, as guide on your iourney," was 
 his calm, earnest reply, as he disappeared, closing the door 
 after him. * 
 
 When the sound of his buggy-wheels on the gravelled 
 avenue told her he had gone, she threw herself on the floor, 
 and crossing her arms on a chair, hid her face in them. 
 
 During Saturday, no opportunity presented itself for re- 
 newing the conversation, and early on Sunday morning Dr. 
 Grey sent to her room a package marked $1,000.00 — ^though 
 really containing $1,500.00— -and a letter addressed to Pro- 
 fessor V . Without examining either, she threw them in- 
 to her trunk, which was already packed, and went down to 
 breakfast. 
 
 She declined accompanying Miss Dexter and Muriel to 
 church, alleging, as an excuse, that it was the last day she 
 could spend with the children. 
 
 Dr. Grey approached her when the remainder of the family 
 had left the table, where she sat abstractedly jingling her 
 fork and spoon. 
 
 He noticed that her breakfast was untasted, and said, very 
 gently,— 
 
 "I suppose that you wish to visit our dear Jane's grav^ 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 33Y 
 
 before you leave us, and, if agreeable to you, I shall be glad 
 to have you accompany me there to-day." 
 
 " Thank you ; but if I go,' it will be alone." 
 
 He stooped to kiss Jessie, who leaned against her sister's 
 chair, and, when he left the room, Salome caught the child in 
 her arms, and pressed her lips twice to the spot where his had 
 rested. 
 
 Late in the afternoon she eluded the children's watchful 
 eyes, and stole away from the house, taking the road that led 
 towards " Solitude." In one portion of the osage hedge that 
 surrounded the place, the lower branches had died, leaving a 
 small opening, and here Salome gained access to the grounds. 
 Walking cautiously under the thick and dark masses of shrub- 
 bery and trees, she reached the arched path near the clump of 
 pyramidal deodars, whose long, drooping plumes were flutter- 
 ing in the evening wind. 
 
 Thence she could command a view of the house and grounds 
 in front, and thence she saw that concerning which she had 
 come to satisfy herself, — ^believing that the evidence of her 
 own eyes would fortify her for the approaching trial of sep- 
 aration. Dr. Grey's horse and buggy stood near the side 
 gate, and Dr. Grey was walking very slowly up and down the 
 avenue leading to the beach, while Mrs. Gerome's tall form 
 leaned on his arm, and the greyhound followed sulkily. 
 
 Salome had barely time to look upon the spectacle that fired 
 her heart and well-nigh maddened her, ere the dog lifted his 
 head, gave one quick, savage bark, and darted in the direc- 
 tion of the cedars. 
 
 Dread of detection and of Dr. Grey's pitying gaze was more 
 potent than fear of the brute, and she ran swiftly towards 
 the gap in the hedge, by which she had effected an entrance 
 into the secluded grounds. Just as she reached it, the grey- 
 hound bounded up, and they met in front of the opening. He 
 set his teeth in her clothes, tearing away a streamer of her 
 black dress, and, as she silently struggled, he bit her arm 
 badly, mangling the flesh, from which the blood spouted. 
 Disengaging a shawl which she wore around her shoulders, she 
 threw it over his head, and, as the meshes caught in his collar, 
 23 
 
338 UNTIL DEATH US BO PART. 
 
 and temporarily entangled him, she sprang through, the gaj\ 
 and seized a heavy stick which lay within reach. He followed, 
 snarling and pawing at the shawl that ultimately dropped at 
 Salome's feet; but finding himself beyond the boundary he 
 was expected to guard, and probably satisfied with the punish- 
 ment already inflicted, he retreated before a well-aimed blow 
 that drove him back into the eneloeure. 
 
 The instant he started towards the cedars Dr. Grey sus« 
 pected mischief, and, placing Mrs. Gerome on a bench that 
 surrounded an elm, he hurried in the same direction. 
 
 When he reached the spot, the dog was snuffing at a patch 
 of bombazine that lay on the grass ; and, confirmed in his sad 
 suspicion, the doctor passed through the opening in the hedge 
 and looked about for the figure which he dreaded, yet expected 
 to see. 
 
 Bushy undergrowth covered the ground for some distance, 
 and, hoping that nothing more serious than fright had re- 
 sulted from the escapade, he stowed away the bombazine frag- 
 ment in his coat pocket, and slowly retraced his steps. 
 
 Secreted by two friendly oaks that spread their low boughs 
 over her, Salome had seen his anxious face peering around 
 for the intruder, and when he abandoned the search and dis- 
 appeared, she smothered a bitter laugh, and strove to stanch 
 the blood that trickled from the gash by binding her hand- 
 kerchief over it. Torn muscles and tendonfi ached and 
 smarted; but the great agony that seemed devouring her heart 
 rendered her almost oblivious of physical pain; In the dusk 
 of coming night she crossed the gloomy forest, where a whip- 
 poorwill was drearily lamenting, and, v^alking over an unfre- 
 quented portion of the lawn, went up to her own room. 
 
 She bathed and bound up the wound as securely as the use 
 of only one hand would permit, and put on a dress whose 
 sleeves fastened closely at the wrist. 
 
 Ere long. Dr. Grey's clear voice echoed through the hall, 
 and the sound made her wince, like the touch of some glowing 
 brand. 
 
 " Jessie, where is sister Salome ? Tell her tea is ready." 
 
 The orphan went down and took her seat, but did not even 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 339 
 
 glance at the master of the house, who looked anxiously at her 
 as she entered. 
 
 During the meal Jessie asked for some sweetmeats that 
 were placed in front of her sister, and, as the latter drew the 
 glass dish nearer, and proceeded to help her, the child ex- 
 claimed, — 
 
 " Oh, look there ! What is that dripping from your sleeve? 
 Ugh ! it is blood." 
 
 "Nonsense, Jessie! don't be silly. Hush! and eat your 
 supper." 
 
 Two drops of blood had fallen on the table-cloth, and the 
 girl instantly set her cup and saucer over them. 
 
 She felt the slow stream trickling down to her wrist, and 
 put her arm in her lap. 
 
 " Is anything the matter ? " asked Dr. Grey, who had ob- 
 served the quick movemeiit. 
 
 " I hurt my arm a little, that is all." 
 
 Her tone forbade a renewal of inquiry, and, as soon as possi- 
 ble, she withdrew to her room, to adjust the bandage. 
 
 The children were playing in the library, and Muriel was 
 walking with her governess on the wide piazza. 
 
 While Salome was trying by the aid of fingers and teeth to 
 draw a strip of linen tightly over her wound, a tap at the 
 door startled her. 
 
 " I am engaged, and can see no one just now." 
 
 " Salome, I want to speak to you, and shall wait here until 
 I do." 
 
 " Excuse me. Dr. Grey. I will come down in ten minutes." 
 
 " Pardon me, but I insist upon seeing you here, and hope 
 you will not compel me to force the door open." 
 
 She wrapped a towel around her arm, drew down her 
 sleeve, and opened the door. 
 
 " To what am I indebted for the honor of this interview? " 
 
 " To my interest in your welfare, which cannot be baffled. 
 Salome, what is the matter? You looked so pale that I 
 noticed you particularly, and saw the blood on the table- 
 cloth. My dear child, I will not be trifled with. Tell me 
 where you are hurt." 
 
S40 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Pray give yourself no uneasiness. I merely scraped and 
 bruised my arm. It is a matter of no consequence." 
 
 " Of that I beg to be considered the best judge. Show me 
 your arm." 
 
 " I prefer not to trouble you." 
 
 He gently but firmly took hold of it, unwound the towel, 
 and she saw him start and shudder at sight of the mangled 
 flesh. 
 
 "An ugly gash! Tell me how you hurt yourself so 
 severely." 
 
 " It is a matter that I do not choose to discuss ; but since 
 you have seen it, I wish you would be so good as to dress and 
 bandage the wound." 
 
 " Oh, my little sister ! Will you never learn to trust your 
 brother?" 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Grey ! will you never learn to let me alone, when 
 I am indulging the 'Imp of the Perverse' in an audience, 
 and do not wish to be interrupted ? " 
 
 She mimicked his pleading tone so admirably that his face 
 flushed. 
 
 " Come to the sitting-room. No one can disturb us there, 
 and I will attend to your injury, which is really serious." 
 
 She followed him, and stood without flinching one iota, 
 while he clipped away the jagged pieces of flesh, covered the 
 long gash with adhesive plaster, and carefully bandaged the 
 whole. 
 
 " Salome, you must dismiss all idea of starting to-morrow, 
 for indeed it would not be safe for you to travel alone, with 
 your arm in this condition. It may give you much trouble 
 and suffering." 
 
 "Which, of course, nolens volens, I must bear as best I 
 may; but, so surely as I live to see daylight, I shall start, 
 even if I knew I should have to stop en route and bury my 
 pretty arm, and be forced to buy a cork one, wherewith to 
 gesticulate gracefully when I die as ' Azucena.' There ! thank 
 you. Dr. Grey ; of course you are very good, — you always are. 
 Shall I bid you all good-by now, or wait till morning? Better 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 341 
 
 make my adieu to-night, so that I may not disturb the matu- 
 tinal slumbers of the household." 
 
 There was a dangerous, starry sparkle in her eyes, that he 
 would not venture to defy, and, sighing heavily, he an- 
 swered, — 
 
 " I shall accompany you to the depSt, and place you under 
 the protection of the conductor." 
 
 " I do not desire to give you that trouble, and — " 
 
 " Hush ! Do not grieve me any more than you have already 
 done, by your hasty, unkind, unfriendly speeches. I shall 
 see you in the morning." 
 
 He left the room abruptly, to conceal the distress which he 
 did not desire her to discover ; and having found Muriel and 
 Miss Dexter, Salome bade them good-by, requested them not 
 to disturb themselves next morning on her account, and called 
 the children to her room. 
 
 For two hours they sat beside her on the lounge, crying 
 over her impending departure, but when she had promised to 
 take them as far as the depot, their thoughts followed other 
 currents, and very soon after, both slumbered soundly in 
 their trundle-bed. 
 
 With her cheek resting on her hand, Salome sat looking at 
 them, noting the glossiness of their curling hair, the flush on 
 their round faces, the regular breathing of peaceful child- 
 hood's sleep. Once she could have wept, and would have knelt 
 and prayed over them ; but now her own overmastering misery 
 had withered all the tenderness in her heart, and, while her 
 eyes of flesh rested on the orphans, her mental vision was 
 fdled with the figure of that gray-haired woman hanging on 
 Dr. Grey's arm. In a dull, cold, abstract way, she hoped that 
 the little ones would be happy, — ^how could they be otherwise 
 when fortune had committed them to Dr. Grey's guardian- 
 ship ? But a numb, desperate feeling had seized her, and she 
 cared for nothing, loved nothing, prayed for nothing. 
 
 How the hours of that night of wretchedness passed she 
 never knew; but when the little bird in the parlor clock 
 " cuckooed " three times, she was aroused from her reverie by 
 
342 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the tramp of horses' hoofs on the gravel, and then the sharp 
 clang of the bell echoed through the silent house. 
 
 It was not unusual for messengers to summon Dr. Grey 
 during the night, and she was not surprised when, some mo- 
 ments later, she heard his voice in the hall. After the lapse 
 of a quarter of an hour, his firm, well-known step approached 
 and paused at her threshold. 
 
 " Salome, are you up ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Come into the passage." 
 
 She opened the door, and stood with the candle in her 
 hand. 
 
 " I regret exceedingly that I am compelled to leave here 
 immediately, as I must hasten to see a man and child who 
 have been horribly burned and injured by the falling in of a 
 roof. The parties live some distance in the country, and I 
 fear I shall not be able to get back in time to go with you to 
 the cars. I shall drive as rapidly as possible, and hope to ac- 
 company you, but if I should be detained, here is a note' which 
 I hastily scribbled to Mr. Miller, the conductor, whom you 
 will find a very kind and courteous gentleman. I sincerely 
 deplore this summons, but the sufEerers are old friends of my 
 sister, and I hope you will believe that nothing but a ease of 
 life and death would prevent me from seeing you aboard the 
 train." 
 
 " I am sorry, sir, that you thought it necessary to apolo- 
 gize." 
 
 She was not yet prepared to part from him forever, — she 
 had been nerving herself for the final interview at the dep6t; 
 but now it came with a shock that utterly stunned her, and 
 she reeled against the door-facing, as if recoiling f roni some 
 fearful blow. 
 
 The livid pallor of her lips, and the spasm of agony that 
 contracted her features, frightened him, and, as he sprang 
 closer to her, the candle fell from her fingers. He caught it, 
 ere it reached the mat, and placed it on a chair. 
 
 " My dear child, your arm pains you, and I beg you to defer 
 your journey at least until Tuesday. I shall be anxious and 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 343 
 
 miserable about you, if you go this morning, and, for my 
 sake, Salome, if not for your own, remain here one day longer. 
 I have not asked many things of you, and I trust you will not 
 refuse this last request I may ever be allowed to make." 
 
 She attempted to speak, but there came only a quiver across 
 her mouth, and a sickly smile that flickered over the ghastly 
 proud face, like the lying sunshine of Indian summer on 
 marble cenotaphs. 
 
 " Salome, you will, to oblige me, wait until Tuesday ? " 
 
 She shook her head, and mastered her weakness. 
 
 "No, Dr. Grey; I must go at once. I take all the hazard." 
 
 "Then you will find on the mantel-piece in my room, a 
 paper containing directions for the treatment of your arm, 
 which demands care and attention. I am sorry you are so 
 obstinate, and, if I possessed the authority, I would forbid 
 your departure." 
 
 He could not endure the despairing expression of her eyes, 
 which seemed supematurally large and brilliant, and his own 
 quailed, for the first time within his recollection. She knew 
 that she was going away forever, to avoid the sight of his hap- 
 piness with Mrs. Gerome; that, in comparison with that tor- 
 ture, all other trials, even separation, would be endurable, but 
 the least evil was more severe than she had dreaded. Now, as 
 she looked up at his noble face, overshadowed with anxiety 
 and regret, and paler than she had ever seen it, the one prayer 
 of her heart was, that, ere a wife's lips touched his, death 
 might claim him for its prey. 
 
 " Salome, I am deeply pained by the course you persist in 
 'oUowing, but I will not provoke and annoy you by renewed 
 expression of a disapprobation that has proved so ineffectual 
 in influencing your decision. God grant that the results may 
 sanction your confidence in your own judgment, — ^your dis- 
 trust of mine. I promised you once that I would pray for you, 
 and I wish to assure you, tiiat, while I live, I shall never lay 
 my head upon my pillow without having first committed you 
 to the mercy and loving care of that Guardian who never 
 * slumbers, nor sleeps.' May God bless and guide you, my dear 
 young friend, and if not again in this world, grant that we 
 
344 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 may meet in the Everlasting City of Peace. Little sister, be 
 sure to meet me in the Kingdom of Eest, where dear Janet 
 waits for us both." 
 
 His calm eyes filled with tears, and his voice grew tremu- 
 lous, as he took Salome's cold, passive hand, and kissed it. 
 
 " Good-by, Dr. Grey; if I find my way to heaven, it will be 
 because you are there. When I am gone, let my name and 
 memory be like that of the dead." 
 
 She stood erect, with her fingers lying in his palm, and the 
 ring of her voice was like the clashing of steel against steel. 
 
 He bent down, and, for the first time, pressed his lips to her 
 forehead; then turned quickly and walked away. When he 
 reached the head of the stairs, he looked back and saw her 
 standing in the door, with the candle-light flaring over her 
 face; and in after years, he could never recall, without a keen 
 pang, that vision of a girlish form draped in mourning, and 
 of fair, rigid features, which hope and happiness could never 
 again soften and brighten. 
 
 Her splendid eyes followed him, as if the sole light of her 
 life were passing away forever; and, with a heavy sigh, he 
 hurried down the steps, realizing all the mournful burden of 
 that Portuguese sonnet, — 
 
 " Go from me. Yet I feelthat I shall stand 
 Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore 
 Alone upon the threshold of my door 
 Of individual life, I shall command 
 The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand 
 Serenely in the sunshine as before, 
 Without the sense of that which I forbore — 
 Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land 
 Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine, 
 With pulses that beat double. What 1 do 
 And what I dredjn include thee, as the wine 
 Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue 
 God for myself, He hears that name of thine. 
 And sees within my eyes the tears of two." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 345 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " I HOPE nothing has gone wrong, Eobert ? You look nn« 
 usually forlorn and doleful." 
 
 Dr. Grey stepped out of his buggy, and accosted the gar- 
 dener, who was leaning idly on the gate, holding a trowel 
 in his hand, and lazily puffing the smoke from his pipe. 
 
 " I thank you, sir ; with us the world wags on pretty much 
 the same, but when a man has been planting violets on his 
 mother's grave he does not feel like whistling and making 
 merry. Besides, to tell the truth, — which I do not like to 
 shirk, — I am getting very tired of this dismal, unlucky place. 
 If I had known as much before I bought it as I do now, all 
 the locomotives in America could not have dragged me here. 
 I was a stranger, and of course nobody thought it their special 
 duty to warn me ; so I was bitten badly enough by the agent 
 who sold me this den of misfortune. Now, when it is too 
 late, there is no lack of busy tongues to tell me the place is 
 haunted, and has been for, lo ! these many years." 
 
 " Nonsense, Eobert 1 I gave you credit for too much good 
 sense to listen to the gossip of silly old wives. Put all these 
 ridiculous tales of ghosts and hobgoblins out of your mind, 
 man, and do not make me laugh at you, as if you were a 
 child who had been so frightened by stories of * raw-head and 
 bloody-bones,' that you were afraid to blow out your candle 
 and creep into bed." 
 
 " I am neither a fool nor a coward, and I will fight any>- 
 thing that I can feel has bone and muscle; but I am satisfied 
 that if all the water in Siloam were poured over this place, it 
 would not wash out the curse that people teU me has always 
 rested on it since the time the pirates first located here. I 
 can't admit I believe in witdies, but undoubtedly I do be- 
 lieve in Satan, who seems to have a fee-simple to the place. 
 It is not enough that my poor mother is buried yonder, but 
 
346 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 my wheat and oats took the rust ; the mildew spoiled my grape 
 crop; the rains ruined my melons; the worms ate up every 
 blade of my grass; the cows have got the black-tongue; the 
 gale blew down my pigeon-house and mashed all my squabs ; 
 and my splendid carnations and fuchsias are devoured by red 
 spider, K'othing thrives, and I am sick at heart." 
 
 The dogged discontent written so legibly on his counte- 
 nance, did not encourage the visitor to enter into a discussion 
 of the abstract causes of blight, gales, and black-tongue, and 
 he merely answered, — 
 
 " The evils you have enumerated are not peculiar to any 
 locality ; and all the farmers in this neighborhood are echoing 
 your complaints. How is Mrs. Gerome ? " 
 
 "Neither better nor worse. You know what miserable 
 weather we have had for a week. This morning she ordered 
 the small carriage and horses brought to the door, and when 
 I took the reins, she dismissed me and said she preferred driv- 
 ing herself. I told her the grays had not been usedj and were 
 badly pampered standing so long in their stalls, and that I 
 was really afraid they would break her neck, as she was not 
 strong enough to manage them; but she laughed, and answered 
 that if they did, it would be the best day's work they had ever 
 accomplished, and she would give them a chance. Down the 
 beach they went like a flash, and when she came home their 
 flanks smoked like a lime-kiln. What is ever to be done with 
 my mistress, I am sure I don't know. She makes the house so 
 doleful, that nobody, wants to stay here, and only yesterday 
 Katie and Phcebe, the cook, gave notice that they wished to 
 leave when the month was out. She- has no idea what she 
 will do, or where she will go. We have wanted a hot-house, 
 and she ordered me to get the builder's estimate of the cost of 
 two plans which she drew; but when I carried them to her, 
 she pushed them aside, and said she Would think of the matter, 
 but thought she might leave this place, and therefore would 
 not need the building. She is as notionate as a child; and no 
 one but my poor mother could ever manage her. Hist ! sir ! 
 Don't you hear her ? You may be sure there is mischief brew- 
 ing when She sings like that." 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 347 
 
 Dr. Grey walked towards the house, and paused on the 
 portico to listen, — 
 
 " Quis est homo, qui non fleret 
 Christi matrem si videret, 
 In tanto supplicio." 
 
 The voice was not so strong as when he had heard it in 
 Addio del Passata, but the solemn mournfulness of its caden- 
 ces was better suited to the Stabat Mater, and indexed much 
 that no other method of expression would have reached. 
 After some moments she forsook Rossini, and began the Agnus 
 Dei from Haydn's Third Mass, — 
 
 ' Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere." 
 
 Surely she could not render this grand strain if her soul 
 was in fierce rebellion; and, with strained ears and hushed 
 breath. Dr. Grey listened to the closing 
 
 " Dona nobis pacem, — pacem, — pacem." 
 
 It was a passionate, wailing prayer, and the only one that 
 ever crossed her lips, yet his heart throbbed with pleasure, 
 as he noted the tremor that seemed to shiver her voice into 
 silvery fragments ; and as she ended, he knew that tears were 
 not far from her eyes. 
 
 When he entered the room, she had left the piano, and 
 wheeled a sofa in front of the grate, where she sat gazing, 
 vacantly into the fiery fretwork of glowing coals. 
 
 A copy of Turner's " Liber Studiorum," superbly bound in 
 purple velvet, lay on her knee, and into a corner of the sofa 
 she had tossed a square of canvas almost filled with silken 
 Parmese violets. 
 
 " Good-evening, Mrs. Gerome ; I hope I do not interrupt 
 you." 
 
 Dr. Grey removed the embroidery to the table, and seated 
 himself in the sofa corner. 
 
 " Good evening. Interruption argues occupation and ab- 
 sorbed attention, and the term is not applicable to me. I 
 
348 VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 who live as vainly, as uselessly, as fruitlessly, as some fakir 
 twirling his thumbs and staring at Ms beard, have little right 
 to call anything an interruption. My existence here is as 
 still, as stagnant, as some pool down yonder in the sedge 
 which last week's waves left among the sand hillocks, and 
 your visits are like pebbles thrown into it, creating transient 
 fipples and circles." 
 
 " You have gone back to the God of your aesthetic idolatry," 
 said he, touching the " Liber Studiorum." 
 
 "Yes, because 'Beauty pitches her tents before him,' and 
 his pencil is more potent in conjuring visions that enchant 
 my wearied mind, than Jemschid's goblet or Iskander's 
 mirror." 
 
 "But why stand afar off, trusting to hunlan and fallible 
 interpreters, when it is your privilege to draw near and 
 dwell in the essence of the only real and divine beauty? " 
 
 " Better reverence it behind a veil, than suffer like Semele. 
 I know my needs, and satisfy them fully. Once my heart was 
 as bare of adoration as Egypt's tawny sands of crystal rain- 
 pools; but looking into the realm of nature and of art, I 
 chose the religion of the beautiful, and said to my famished 
 soul, 
 
 ' From every channel thro' which Beauty runs, 
 To fertilize the world with lovely things, 
 I will draw freely, and be satisfied.' " 
 
 " This morbid sentimentality, this sickly gasping system of 
 aesthetics, soi-disant ' Eeligion of the Beautiful,' is the curse 
 of the age, — is a vast, universal vampire sucking the life 
 from humanity. Like other idolatries it may arrogate the 
 name of ' Eeligion,' but it is simply dovraright pagan material- 
 ism, and its votaries of the nineteenth century should look 
 back two thousand years, and renew the Panathencea. The 
 ancient Greek worship of aesthetics was a proud and pardon- 
 able system, replete with sublime images; but the idols 
 of your emasculated creed are yellow-haired women with 
 straight noses, — are purple clouds and moon-silvered seas, — 
 and physical beauty constitutes their sole excellence. Lovely 
 
UNTIL DEATB US DO PART. 349 
 
 landscapes and perfect faces are certainly entitled to a liberal 
 quota of earnest admiration; but a religion that contents 
 itself with merely material beauty, differs in nothing but 
 nomenclature from the pagan worship of Cybele, Venus, and 
 Astarte." 
 
 A chill smile momentarily brightened Mrs. Gerome's fea- 
 tures, and turning towards her visitor, she answered slowly, — 
 
 " Be thankful, sir, that even the worship of beauty lingers 
 in this world of sin and hate; and instead of defiling and 
 demolishing its altars, go to work zealously and erect new 
 ones at every cross-roads. Lessing spoke for me when he 
 said, ' Only a misapprehended religion can remove us from 
 the beautiful, and it is proof that a religion is true and rightly 
 understood when it everywhere brings us back to the Beauti- 
 ful. ' " 
 
 " Pardon me. I accept Lessing's words, but cavil at your 
 interpretation of them. His reverence for Beauty embraced 
 not merely physical and material types, but that nobler, 
 grander beauty which centres in pure ethics and ontology; 
 and a religion that seeks no higher forms than those of clay, 
 — whether Himalayas or ' Greek Slave,' — whether emerald 
 icebergs, flashing under polar auroras, or the myosotis that 
 nods there on the mantel-piece, — a religion that substitutes 
 beauty for duty, and Nature for Nature's God, is a shameful 
 sham, and a curse to its devotees. There is a beauty worthy 
 of all adoration, a beauty far above Antinous, or Gula or 
 Greek aesthetics, — a beauty that is not the disjecta mernbra 
 that modern maudlin sentimentality has left it, — ^but that 
 perfect and immortal 'Beauty of Holiness,' that outlives 
 marble and silver, pigment, stylus, and pagan poems that 
 deify dust." 
 
 He leaned towards her, watching eagerly for some symp- 
 tom of interest in the face before him, and bent his head 
 until he inhaled the fragrance of the violets which clustered 
 on one side of the coil of hair. 
 
 " ' Beauty of Holiness.' Show it to me. Dr. Grey. Is it at 
 La Trappe, or the Hospice of St. Bernard? Where are its 
 
350 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 temples? Where are its worshippers? Who is its Hiero» 
 phant?" 
 
 "Jesus Christ." 
 
 She closed her eyes for a moment, as if to shut out some 
 painful vision evoked by his words. 
 
 " Sir, do you recollect the reply of Laplace, when Napoleon 
 asked him why there was no mention of God in his ' Meca- 
 nique Celeste f ' ' Sire, je n'avais pas besom de cette hypo- 
 these.' I was not sufficiently insane to base my religion of 
 beauty upon a holiness that was buried in the tomb supplied 
 by Joseph of Arimathea, — that was long ago hunted out of 
 the world it might have purified. Once I believed in, and 
 revered what I supposed was its existence, but I was speedily 
 disenchanted of my faith, for, — 
 
 ' I have seen those that wore Heaven's armor, worsted : 
 I have heard Truth lie : 
 
 Seen Life, beside the founts for which it thirsted. 
 Curse God and die.' 
 
 Dr. Grey, I do not desire to sneer at your Christian trust, 
 and God knows I would give all my earthly possessions and 
 hopes for a religion that would insure me your calm resigna- 
 tion and contentment ; but the resurrection of my faith would 
 only resemble that beautiful floral Palingenesis (asserted by 
 Gaffarel and Kircher), which was but 'the pale spectre of 
 a flower coming slowly forth from its own ashes,' and speed- 
 ily dropping back into dust. Leave me in the enjoyment 
 of the only pleasure earth can afford me, the contemplation 
 6f the beautiful." 
 
 " Unless you blend with it the true and good, your love of 
 beauty will degenerate into the merely sensuous aesthetics, 
 which, at the present day, renders its votaries fastidious, 
 etiolated voluptuaries. The deification of humanity, so sue-' 
 cessfully inaugurated by Feuerbach and Strauss, is now no 
 longer confined to realms of abstract speculation; but culti- 
 vated sensualism has sunk so low that popular poets chant 
 the praises of Phryne and Cleopatra, and painters and sculp- 
 tors seek to immortalize types that degrade the taste of all 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 361 
 
 loTers of Art. The true mission of Art, whether through 
 the medium of books, statues, or pictures, is to purify and 
 exalt; but the curse of our age is, that the fashionable 
 pantheistic raving about Nature, and the apotheosizing of 
 physical loveliness, — is rapidly sinking into a worship of the 
 vilest elements of humanity and materialism. Pagan aesthet- 
 ics were purer and nobler than the system, which, under that 
 name, finds favor with our generation." 
 
 She listened, not assentingly, but without any manifesta- 
 tion of impatience, and while he talked, her eyes rested 
 dreamily upon the yellow beach, where, — 
 
 " Trampling up the sloping sand, 
 
 In lines outreaching far and wide, 
 The white-maned billows swept to land." 
 
 Whether she pondered his words, or was too entirely ab- 
 sorbed by her own thoughts to heed their import, he had no 
 means of ascertaining. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, what have you painted recently ? " 
 " Nothing, since my illness ; and perhaps I shall never 
 touch my brush again. Sometimes I have thought I would 
 paint a picture of Handel standing up to listen to that sad 
 song from his own ' Samson,' — ' Total eclipse, no sun, no 
 moon!' But I doubt whether I could put on canvas that 
 grand, mournful, blind face, turned eagerly towards the 
 stage, while tears ran swiftly from his sightless eyes. Again, 
 I have vague visions of a dead Schopenhauer, seated in the 
 corner jDf the sofa, with his pet poodle, Putz, howling at 
 his master's ghastly white features, — ^with his Indian Oupnek- 
 hat lying on his rigid knee, and his gilded statuette of Gotama 
 Buddha grinning at him from the mantel-piece, welcoming 
 him to Nirwdna. There stands my easel, empty and shrouded ; 
 and here, from day to day, I sit idle, not lacking ideas, but 
 the will to clothe them. Unlike poor Maurice de Guerin, 
 who said that his ' head was parching ; that, like a tree which 
 had lived its life, he felt as though every passing wind were 
 blowing through dead branches in his top,' I feel that my 
 
352 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 brain is as vigorous and restless as ever, while my will alone 
 is paralyzed, and my heart withered and cold within me." 
 
 " Your brush and palette will never yield you any perma- 
 nent happiness, nor promote a spirit of contentment, until 
 you select a different class of subjects. Your themes are all 
 too sombre, too dismal, and the sole motif that runs through 
 your music and painting seems to be in memoriam. Open 
 the windows of your gloomy soul, and let God's sunshine 
 stream into its cold recesses, and warm and gild and gladden 
 it. Throw aside your morbid proclivities for the melancholy 
 and abnormal, and paint peaceful genre pictures, — a group of 
 sunburnt, laughing harvesters, or merry children, or tulip- 
 beds with butterflies swinging over them. You need more 
 warmth in your heart, and more light in your pictures." 
 
 " Eminently correct, — ^most incontestably true : but how do 
 you propose to remedy the imperfect chiaro-oscuro of my 
 character? Show me the market where that light of peace 
 and joy is bartered, and I will constitute you my broker, with 
 unlimited orders. No, no. I see the fact as plainly as you 
 do, but I know better than you how irremediable^ it is. My 
 soul is a doleful morgue, and my pictures are dim photo- 
 graphs of its corpse-tenants. Shut in forever from the sup- 
 shine, I dip my brush in the shadows that surround me, 
 for, like Empedocles,: — 
 
 ' I alone 
 Am dead to life and joy ; therefore I read 
 In all things my own deadness.' " 
 
 "If you would free yourself from the coils of an intense 
 and selfish egoism that fetter you to the petty cares and trials 
 of your individual existence, — if you would endeavor to for- 
 get for a season the woes of Mrs. Gerome, and expend a 
 little more sympathy on the sorrows of others, — if you would 
 resolve to lose sight of the caprices that render you so un- 
 popular, and make some human being happy by your aid 
 and kind words, — in fine, if, instead of selecting as your model 
 some cynical, half-insane woman like Lady Hester Stanhope, 
 you chose for imitation the example of noble Christian use- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. ggg 
 
 fulness and self-abnegation, analogous to that. of Florence 
 Nightingale, or Mrs. Fry, you would soon find that your 
 conscience — " 
 
 " Enough ! You weary me. Dr. Grey, I thoroughly under- 
 stand your motives, and honor their purity, but I beg that 
 you will give yourself no further anxiety on my account. 
 You cannot, from your religious standpoint, avoid regarding 
 me as worse than a heathen, and have constituted yourself 
 a missionary to reclaim and consecrate me. I am not quite 
 a cannibal, ready to devour you, by way of recompense for 
 your charitable efforts in my behalf, but I must assure you 
 your interest and sympathy are sadly wasted. Do you re- 
 member that celebrated 'vase of Soissons,' which was plund- 
 ered by rude soldiery in Eheims, and which Clovis so eagerly 
 coveted at the distribution of the spoils? A soldier broke 
 it before the king's hungry eyes, and forced him to take 
 the worthless mocking fragments. Even so flint-faced fate 
 shattered my happiness, and tauntingly offers me the ruins; 
 but I will none of it ! " 
 
 " Trust God's overruling mercy, and those fragments, fused 
 in the furnace of affliction, may be remoulded and restored 
 to you in pristine perfection." 
 
 " Impossible ! Moreover, I trust nothing but the brevity 
 of human life, which one day cainnot fail to release me from 
 an existence that has proved an almost intolerable burden. 
 You know Vogt says, ' The natural laws are rude, unbending 
 powers, and I comfort myself by hoping that they can neither 
 be bribed nor browbeaten out of the discharge of their duty, 
 which points to death as * the surest calculation that can be 
 made, — as the unavoidable keystone of every individual 
 life.' A grim consolation, you think? True; but all I shall 
 ever receive. Dr. Grey, in your estimation I am sinfully 
 inert and self-indulgent; and you conscientiously commend 
 my idle hands to the benevolent work of knitting socks for 
 indigent ditchers, and making jackets for pauper children. 
 Now, although it is considered neither orthodox nor modest 
 to furnish left-hand with a trumpet for sounding the praises 
 of almsgiving right-hand, still I must be allowed to assert 
 33 
 
354: UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 that I appropriate an ample share of my fortune for chari- 
 table purposes. Perhaps you will tell me that I do not give 
 in a proper spirit of loving sympathy, — that I hurl my do- 
 nations at my conscience, as 'a sop to Cerberus.' I have 
 never injured any one, and if I have no tender love in my 
 heart to expend on others, it is the fault of that world which 
 taught me how hollow and deceitful it is. God knows I 
 have never intentionally wounded any living thing; and if 
 negatively good, at least my career has no stain of positive 
 evil upon it. I am one of those concerning whom Eichter 
 said, ' There are souls for whom life has no summer. These 
 should enjoy the advantages of the inhabitants of Spitz- 
 bergen, where, through the winter's day, the stars shine clear 
 as through the winter's night.' I have neither summer nor 
 polar stars, but I wait for that long night wherein I shall 
 sleep peacefully." 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, defiant pride bars your heart from the 
 white-handed peace that even now seeks entrance. Some 
 great sorrow or sin has darkened your past, and, instead of 
 ejecting its memory, you hug it to your soul; you make it a 
 mental Juggernaut, crushing the hopes and aims that might 
 otherwise brighten the path along which you drag this mur- 
 derous idol. Cast it away forever, and let Peace and Hope 
 clasp hands over its empty throne." 
 
 From that peculiar far-ofE expression of the human eye 
 that generally indicates abstraction of mind, he feared that 
 she had not heard his earnest appeal ; but after some seconds, 
 she smiled drearily, and repeated with singular and touching 
 pathos, lines which proved that his words were not lost upon 
 Iter,— 
 
 " ' Ah, could the memory cast her spots, as do 
 
 The snake's brood theirs in spribg ! and bie once more 
 
 Wholly renewed, to dwell in the time that's new, — 
 
 With no reiteranoe of those pangs of yore. 
 
 Peace, peace I Ah, forgotten things 
 
 Stumble back strangely I and the ghost of Jime 
 
 Stands by December's fire, cold, cold I and puts 
 
 The last spark out.' " ; 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 355 
 
 The mournful sweetness and calmness of her low voice made 
 Dr. Grey's heart throb fiercely, and he leaned a little farther 
 forward to study her countenance. She had rested her elbow 
 on the carved side of the sofa, and now her cheek nestled 
 for support in one hand, while the other toyed unconsciously 
 with the velvet edges of the Liber Studiorum. Her dress 
 was of some soft, shining fabric, neither satin nor silk, and 
 its pale blue lustre shed a chill, pure light over the wan, 
 delicate face, that was white as a bending lily. 
 
 The faint yet almost mesmeric fragrance of orange flowers 
 and violets floated in the folds of her garments, and seemed 
 lurking in the waves of gray hair that glistened in the bright 
 steady glow of the red grate; and moved by one of those 
 unaccountable impulses that sometimes decide a man's destiny. 
 Dr. Grey took the exquisitely beautiful hand from the book 
 and enclosed it in both of his. 
 
 " Mrs. Gerome, you seem strangely unsuspicious of the 
 real nature of the interest with which you have inspired me; 
 and I owe it to yotf, as well as to myself, to avow the feelings 
 that prompt me to seek your society so frequently. For some 
 months after I met you, my professional visits afforded me 
 only rare and tantalizing glimpses of you, but from the day 
 of Elsie's death, I have been conscious that my happiness is 
 indissolubly linked with yours, — ^that my heart, which never 
 before acknowledged allegiance to any woman, is — " 
 
 "For God's sake, stop! I cannot listen to you." 
 
 She had wrung her hand violently from his clinging fingers, 
 an^i springing to her feet, stood waving him from her, while 
 an expression of horror came swiftly into her eyes and over 
 her whole countenance. 
 
 Dr. Grey rose also, and though a sudden pallor spread from 
 his lips to his temples, his calm voice did not falter. 
 
 "Is it because you can never return my love, that you so 
 vehemently refuse to hear its avowal? Is it because ycur 
 own heart — " - 
 
 "It is because your love is an insult, and must not be 
 uttered 1" 
 
 Skbe ghJyexed as if rudely buffeted by some freezing blast* 
 
356 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and the steely glitter leaped up, like the flash of a poniard, 
 in her large, dilating eyes. 
 
 Shocked and perplexed, he looked for a moment at her 
 ■writhing features, and put out his hand. 
 
 " Can it be possible that you so utterly misapprehend me? 
 You surely can not doubt the earnestness of an affection 
 which impels me to offer my hand and heart to you,^the 
 first woman I have ever loved. Will you refuse — " 
 
 " Stand back ! Do not touch me ! Ah, — God help me ! 
 Take your hand from mine. Are you blind ? If you were an 
 archangel I could not listen to you, for— for — oh. Dr. Grey ! " 
 
 She covered her face with her hands, and staggered to- 
 wards a chair. 
 
 A horrible, sickening suspicion made his brain whirl and 
 his heart stand still. He followed her, and said, plead- 
 ingly,— 
 
 " Do not keep me in painful suspense. Why is my declara- 
 tion of devoted affection so revolting to you? Why can you 
 not at least permit me to express the love — " 
 
 " Because that love dishonors me ! Dr. Grey, I — am — a — ■ 
 wife ! " 
 
 The words fell slowly from her white lips, as if her heart's 
 blood were dripping with them, and a deep, purplish spot 
 burned on each cheek, to attest her utter humiliation. 
 
 Dr. Grey gazed at her, with a bewildered, incredulous ex- 
 pression. 
 
 "You mean that your heart is buried in your husband's 
 grave ? " 
 
 " Oh, if that were true, you and I might be spared this 
 shame and agony." 
 
 A low wail escaped her,- and she hid her face in her arms. 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome, is not your husband dead?" 
 
 " Dead to me, — but not yet in his grave. The man I 
 married is still alive." 
 
 She heard a half-stifled groan, and buried her face deeper 
 in her arms to avoid the sight of the suffering she had 
 caused. 
 
 For some time the stillness of death reigned around theail» 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 367 
 
 and when at last the wretched woman raised her eyes, she 
 saw Dr. Grey standing beside her, with one hand on the back 
 of her chair, the other clasped over his eyes. Eeverently 
 she turned and pressed her lips to his cold fingers, and he felt 
 her hot tears falling upon them, as she said, falteringly, — 
 
 " Forgive me the pain that I have innocently inflicted 
 on you. God is my witness, I did not imagine you cared for 
 me. I supposed you pitied me, and were only interested in 
 saving my miserable soul. The servants told me you were 
 very soon to be married to a young girl who lived with your 
 sister ; and I never dreamed that your noble, generous heart 
 felt any interest in me, save that of genuine Christian com- 
 passion for my loneliness and desolation. If I had suspected 
 your feelings; I would have gone away immediately, or told 
 you all. Oh, that I had never come here ! — that I had never 
 left my safe retreat, near Funchal !■ Then I would not have 
 stabbed the heart of the only man whom I respect, revere, 
 and trust." 
 
 Some moments elapsed ere he could fully command him- 
 self, and whenhe spoke he had entirely regained composure. 
 
 " Do not reproach yourself. The fault has . been mine, 
 rather than yours. Knowing that some mystery enveloped 
 your early life, I should not have allowed my affections to 
 centre so completely in one concerning whose antecedents 
 I knew absolutely nothing. I have been almost culpably 
 rash and blind, — but I could not look into your beautiful, 
 sad eyes, and doubt that you were worthy of the love that 
 sprang up unbidden in my heart. I knew that you were 
 irreligious, but I believed I could win you back to Christ; 
 and when I tell you that, after living thirty-eight years, 
 you are the only woman I ever' met whom I wished to call my 
 wife, you can in some degree realize my confidence in the 
 innate purity of your character. God only knows how 
 severely I am punished by my rashness, how profoundly I de- 
 plore the strange infatuation that so utterly blinded me. 
 At least, I am grateful that my brief madness has not in- 
 volved you in sin and additional suffering." 
 
 The burning spots faded from her cheeks as she listened 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 to his low, solemn words, and when he ended, she clasped 
 her hands passionately, and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Do not judge me, until you know all. I am not as un- 
 worthy as you fear. Do not withdraw your confidence from 
 me." 
 
 He shook his head, and answered, sadly, — 
 
 " A wife, yet bereft of your husband's protection ! A wife, 
 wandering among strangers, and a deserter from the home 
 you vowed to cheer ! Your own admission cries out in judg- 
 ment against you." 
 
 He walked to the table and picked up his gloves, and Mrs. 
 Gerome rose and advanced a few steps. 
 
 "Dr. Grey, you will come now and then to see me?" 
 
 " Nq ; for the present I do not wish to see you." 
 
 " Ah ! how brittle are men's promises ! Did you not assure 
 Elsie that you would never forsake her wretched child? " 
 
 " Our painful relations invalidate that promise,-^aneel 
 that pledge. I can not visit you as formerly; still, I shall 
 at all times be glad to serve you ; and you have only to acquaint 
 me with your wishes to insure their execution." 
 
 " Eemember how solitary, how desolate, I am." 
 
 " A wife should be neither, while her husband lives." 
 
 The cold severity of his tone wounded her inexpressibly, 
 and she haughtily drew herself up. 
 
 "Dr. Grey will at least allow me an opportunity of ex- 
 plaining the circumstances that he seems to regard as so 
 heinous ? " 
 
 He looked at the proud but quivering mouth, — ^into the 
 great, shadowy, gray eyes, and a heavy sigh escaped him. 
 
 " Perhaps it is better that I should know your history, for it 
 vrill diminish my own unhappiness to feel assured that you 
 are worthy of the estimate I placed upon you one hour ago. 
 Shall I come to-morrow, or will you tell me now what you 
 desire me to know? " 
 
 " I can not sleep until I have exonerated myself in your 
 clear, truthful, holy eyes : I can not endure that you should 
 think harshly of me, even for a day. This room is suffo« 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 359 
 
 eating! I will meet you on the portico.; and yonder, by the 
 Bea, I will show you my life." 
 
 She went to the escritoire, opened one of the drawers, and 
 took out a package. Wrapping a cloak around her, she 
 quitted the parlor, and found Dr. Grey leaning against one 
 of the columns. 
 
 He did not offer her his arm as formerly, but slowly and 
 silently they walked down towards the beach, where the surf 
 was rolling heavily in with a steady roar, and tossing sheets 
 of foam around the stone piers. 
 
 . . . " While far across the hill, 
 A dark and brazen sunset ribbed with black. 
 Glared, like the sullen eyeballs of the plague." 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVII. 
 
 " Doctor Gkey, had you possessed a tithe of the ingenuity 
 of Peiresc, you might long ago have interpreted the deep, 
 dark incisions in my character, which, like the indentations 
 on his celebrated amethyst, show where the lamince of luck- 
 less events inscribed my history with mournful ciphers. 
 Elsie's hints would have furnished any woman with a clew; 
 but, since you have not availed yourself of their aid, I must 
 lift the shroud that hides the corpse of my j^uth, my hap- 
 piness, my faith in man, my hope in God. Ah ! unto what 
 shall I liken it? This ruined, wretched thing I call my 
 life? To the Tauh e Kerra, — standing in a dreary waste, 
 lifting its vast, keyless arch helplessly to heaven ? Even such 
 a crumbling arch, beautiful and grand in its glorious promise, 
 is the incomplete, crownless life of Agla Gerome, — a lonely 
 and melancholy monument of a gigantic failure. Two months 
 before my birth, my father, Henderson Flewellyn, died, and 
 when I was three hours old, my poor young mother followed 
 him, leaving me to the care of her nurse, Elsie Maclean, and 
 of an old uncle who was at that time residing in Copenhagen. 
 Having no relatives to dictate, Elsie named me Vashti, for 
 
360 VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 my mother; but my great-uncle wrote that my baptism must 
 be deferred until he could be present, and instructed her to 
 call me Evelyn, after himself. But the stubborn Scotch 
 will would not bend, and my name was written in the family 
 Bible,. Vashti Flewellyn. Before the expiration of three 
 years, Mr. Mitchell Evelyn died, bequeathing his fortune to 
 me, as Evelyn Flewellyn, and consigning me to the guardian- 
 ship of Mr. Lucian Wright, a widowed minister of New York. 
 I was a feeble, sickly child, hovering continually upon the 
 confines of death, and, as city air was deemed injurious to me, 
 Elsie kept me at a farm-house on the Hudson, belonging to 
 the estate that I was destined to inherit. Here I remained 
 until my tenth year, when Mr. Wright removed me to the 
 vicinity of Albany, and placed me under the care of his 
 maiden sister, who had a small class of girls to educate. 
 Elsie accompanied and watched over me, and here 1 spent 
 four quiet, happy years; but the death of my teacher set 
 me once more afloat, and I was carried to New York, and 
 left at a large and fashionable boarding-school. I was fond 
 of study, and boundlessly ambitious, and soon formed a warm, 
 close friendship with a teacher who entered the institution 
 after I became one of its inmates. I had no one to love but 
 Elsie, who never left me, and consequently, I gave to Edith 
 Dexter, the young teacher, all the affection that I would have 
 lavished on parents, brothers, and sisters, had they been 
 granted to me.# She was several years my senior, and the love- 
 liest woman I ever saw. Eeared in aflBuence, her family had 
 become impoverished, and Edith was thrown upon her own re- 
 sources for a support. My father's fortune was very large, 
 and the property left me by Mr. Evelyn swelled my estate to 
 very unusual proportions. Mr. Wright had carefully at- 
 tended to the investment of the income, and I was regarded 
 as the heiress of enormous wealth. Tenderly attached to 
 Edith, whose beauty, intelligence, and varied accomplishments 
 rendered her peculiarly attractive, I loaded her with presents, 
 and determined that as soon as my educational career ended, 
 I would establish myself in an elegant residence on Fifth 
 Avenue, take Edith to live under my roof, treat her always 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 361 
 
 as my sister, and share my ample fortune with her. Dr. 
 Grey, you can form no adequate conception of the depth of 
 the love I entertained for her. Day and night my busy 
 brain devised schemes for lightening her labors, for promoting 
 her happiness; and I spared no exertion to shield her from 
 the petty vexations and humiliating annoyances incident to 
 her situation. Waking, I prayed for her; sleeping in her 
 arms, I dreamed of the future we should spend together. 4t 
 the close of the session, she went into Vermont to visit her 
 invalid mother, and I to Mr. Wright's quiet home, to remain 
 until the end of vacation. The minister was a kind-hearted 
 but weak old man, who treated me tenderly, and humored 
 every caprice that attacked my brain. I had never before 
 been his guest, and here, at his house, on the second day 
 of my sojourn, I met his favorite nephew, Maurice Carlyle." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome uttered the name through firmly set teeth, 
 and the blue cords on her forehead tangled terribly. 
 
 Clenching her fingers, she drew a long. breath, and con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 At that time, he was by far the most fascinating, and 
 certainly the handsomest man I have ever met, and when I 
 recall the beauty of his face, the grace of his manner, the 
 noble symmetry of his figure, and the sparkling vivacity of 
 his conversation, I do not wonder that from the fi.rst hour 
 of our acquaintance he charmed me. I was but a child, a 
 proud, impulsive young thing, full of romance, full of wild 
 dreams of manly chivalry and feminine constancy and devo- 
 tion; and Maurice Carlyle seemed the perfect incarnation 
 of all my glowing ideals of knightly excellence and heroism. 
 He was thirty, — I not yet sixteen; he poor and fastidious, — 
 I generous and trusting, and possessed of one of the largest 
 estates on the continent. He had spent much of his life 
 abroad, and was as polished as any courtier who ever graced 
 St. Cloud or St. James; I an impetuous young simpleton, 
 who knew nothing of the world, save those tantalizing 
 glimpses snatched from behind the bars of a boarding-school. 
 Here, examine these portraits, while the light still lingers, 
 and you will see the woful disparity that existed between us 
 
362 UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 
 
 at that period. They were painted a foftnight after I met 
 him." 
 
 She opened a velvet case, and laid before her companion two 
 oval ivory miniatures, richly set with large pearls. 
 
 Dr. Grey took them both in his hand, and, by the dail, 
 lurid glow that tipped a ridge of clouds lying along the west- 
 ern horizon, he saw two pictures. 
 
 ,One, a remarkably handsome man, with brilliant black 
 eyes and regular features, and a cast of countenance that 
 forcibly reminded him of the likenesses of Edgar A. Pee, while 
 the expression denoted more of chicane than chivalry in his 
 character. The other, a fresh, sweet, girlish face, eloquent 
 with innocence and purity, with clear, gray eyes, overhung 
 by jetty lashes, and overarched by black brows, while a mass 
 of dark hair was heaped in short curls on her forehead and 
 temples, and fell in long ringlets over her neck. 
 
 Dr. Grey looked at Mrs. Gerome, and now at the portrait, 
 but the resemblance could nowhere be traced, save in the deli- 
 cate yet haughty arch of the eyebrows, and the dainty mould- 
 ing of the faultless nose. 
 
 While he glanced from one to the other, she placed a third 
 miniature beside those in his hand, and he started at sight 
 of a surpassingly lovely countenance, which recalled the out- 
 lines of one that he had left in his library three hours before, 
 where Miss Dexter sat reading to Muriel. 
 
 " There you have the gods of my old worship,— Edith and 
 Maurice. Can you wonder at my infatuation ? " 
 
 She took the pictures, and a derisive smile distorted her 
 lips, as she looked shiveringly at them, and hastily replaced 
 them on their velvet cushions. Closing the spring with a 
 convulsive snap, she tossed the case on the terrace, whence it 
 fell to the grass below; and drew her blue velvet drapeir 
 closer around her. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, you know quite enough of human nature to an- 
 ticipate what followed. Three days after I met Maurice 
 Carlyle, he swore deathless devotion to his ' gray-eyed angel,' 
 and offered me his hand. Ah! when I recall that evening, 
 and think of the words uttered so tenderly, so passionately, 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 363 
 
 when I summon before me that radiant face, and listen again 
 to the voice that so utterly bewitched me, the remembrance 
 maddens me, and I feel a murderous hate of my race stirring 
 my blood into fierce throbs. With my hands folded in his, 
 we planned our future, painted visions that made my brain 
 reel, and when hia lips touched my forehead, as sacred seal 
 of our betrothal, I felt that earth could add nothing to my 
 blessed lot. Of course Mr. Wright warmly sanctioned my 
 choice, drugging his, conscience with the reflection that if 
 Maurice was extravagant and inert, my fortune would obviate 
 the necessity of his attending to his nominal profession, that 
 of the law. The old man insisted, however, that as I was 
 a mere child, we must defer our marriage two years. Mr. 
 Carlyle frowned, and vowed he could not live more than 
 twelve months without his ' peerless prize,' and like any other 
 silly girl, I believed it as unhesitatingly as I did the lessons 
 from the gospels that were read to us night and morning. 
 What cloudless days flew over my young head, during the en- 
 suing month; days wherein I never tired of kneeling and 
 thanking God for the marvellous blessing of Maurice Carlyle's 
 love. Life was mantling in a crystal goblet, like eau de vie de 
 Dantzic, and I could not even taste it without watching 
 the gold sparkles rise and fall and flash; and how could I 
 dream, then, that the draught was not brightened with gilt 
 leaves, but really flavored with curare? The only drawback 
 to my happiness was Elsie's opposition to my engagement, 
 and Mr. Carlyle's refusal to allow me to acquaint Edith with 
 my betrothal. He was so 'furiously jealous of that yellow- 
 haired woman whom his darling loved too well.' It would 
 be quite time enough to inform her of my happiness when I 
 returned to school. Prom the beginning, Elsie distrusted, 
 disliked, and eyed him suspiciously, but her expostulations 
 and arguments only strengthened his influence, and partially 
 overthrew hers. One day Mr. Carlyle sought me in great 
 haste, and with considerable agitation informed me that he 
 had been unexpectedly summoned abroad. Business, with 
 the details of which he tenderly forbore to weary me, would 
 detain him many months in Europe, and he implored me to 
 
864 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 consent to a private marriage before his departure. Mr. 
 Wright was in very feeble health, had been threatened with 
 paralysis, and my ardent lover would be too unendurably 
 miserable separated from me, when death might at any mo- 
 ment rob me of my guardian. I consented, and hastened to 
 obtain Mr. Wright's sanction. That day chanced to be one 
 of his despondent, hypochondriacal seasons, and after some 
 persuasion on my part, and much sophistry from his nephew, 
 the weak old man yielded. Then my lover pressed his ad- 
 vantage, and vowed he could never leave me, that his young 
 bride must accompany him to London, that my mind would 
 be too much engrossed by thoughts of him to permit the 
 possibility of my studying advantageously in his absence, and 
 that he would assume the responsibility of superintending 
 and perfecting his wife's education. Mr. Wright demurred; 
 Mr. Carlyle raved ; I wept. Maurice clasped me in his arms, 
 and in the midst of my tears and pleadings, my guardian 
 succumbed. It was arranged that our marriage should take 
 place within a fortnight, and that we should immediately 
 start to Europe. Poor Elsie ! — truest, wisest, best friend God 
 ever gave me, — was enraged and distressed beyond expression. 
 She wept, wrung her hands, and falling on her knees entreated 
 me not to execute my insane purpose,-^assured me I was a 
 lamb led to sacrifice, was the victim of an infamous scheme 
 between uncle and nephew to possess themselves of my estate, 
 and she exhausted argument and persuasion in attempting 
 to recall my wandering common sense. Much as I loved 
 her, this bitter vituperation of my idol incensed and estranged 
 me, and I temporarily forbade her to enter my presence. 
 Poor, dear, devoted Elsie! When my heart relented, and I 
 sought her to assure her of my forgiveness, tears and groans 
 greeted me, and I found her sitting at the foot of her bed, 
 with her face hidden in her apron." 
 
 Stretching her arms towards the grave, Mrs, Gerome 
 paused; her lips quivered, and two tears rolled down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Ah ! dear old heart ! Brave, true, tender soul ! How dif- 
 ferent my lot would have been had I heeded her prayers 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 365 
 
 and counsel! Not until I lie down yonder, and mingle my 
 dust with hers, can I, even for an instant, forget her faithful, 
 sleepless care and love. I believe she is the only human 
 being who was ever tenderly and truly attached to me, and 
 God knows I learned before I lost her how much her affection 
 was worth." 
 
 The cold, ringing voice grew tremulous, wavering, and some 
 moments passed before Mrs. Gerome continued, — 
 
 "Mr. Carlyle preferred a private wedding, but I insisted 
 upon a ceremony at the church where Mr. Wright officiated, 
 and immediately telegraphed to Edith, requesting her presence 
 as bridesmaid, and offering to provide her outfit and defray 
 all expenses, if she would accompany us to Europe. My be- 
 trothed bit his lip, and objected; but on this point, at least, 
 I was iirm, and assured him I would not be married unless 
 Edith could be with me. She wrote, declining my invitation 
 to Europe, but came to New York, the day of my wedding. 
 When I look back at what followed, I have a vague, confused 
 feeling, similar to that which results from taking opium. 
 Mr. Carlyle had positively interdicted ray taking Elsie to 
 Europe, assuring me that his wife should not be in leading- 
 strings to a spoiled and presumptuous nurse, and promising 
 me that, when we returned to America, she might occupy 
 the position of housekeeper in our establishment. Absorbed 
 by my own supreme happiness, I scarcely saw Edith until 
 we were dressed for the ceremony, and when she came and 
 leaned against the table where the bridal presents were ar- 
 ranged, I noticed that she was pale and much agitated, but 
 ascribed her emotion to grief at my approaching departure. 
 Several of my schoolmates officiated as bridesmaids, and a 
 large party assembled at the church to witness the marriage. 
 Mr. Carlyle was a great favorite in society, and his friends 
 were invited to ihe wedding breakfast at the parsonage, it 
 was on the bright morning of my sixteenth birthday, when 
 I stood before the altar and listened to and uttered the words 
 that made me a wife. Every syllable, every intonation, of 
 the minister's voice is branded on my memory as with a red- 
 hot iron : ' Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband. 
 
366 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 to live together after God's ordinance, in the holy estate of 
 matrimony ? Wilt thon obey him, serve him, love, honor, and 
 keep him, in sickness and in health ; and forsaking all others, 
 keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?' 
 And there, before the altar, with the stained glass making a 
 rainbow behind the pulpit, I answered, 'I will' Oh, Dr. 
 Grey, pity me ! pity me ! " 
 
 A cry of anguish escaped her, and she extended her arms 
 until her hands rested on her companion's shoulder. 
 
 In silence he bent his head, and put his lips to the tightly 
 clasped fingers. 
 
 " Tell me, sir, — 'if that vow means that man may make a 
 plaything of God's statutes? If it binds for one hour, does 
 it not bind while life lasts ? " 
 
 " ' So long as ye both shall live,' " answered Dr. Grey, sol- 
 emnly; and he gently removed her hand, and drew himself 
 a little farther froih her. 
 
 She was too painfully engrossed by sad reminiscences to 
 notice the action, and resumed her narrative. 
 
 " There was a gay party at the breakfast, and I could not 
 remove my fascinated eyes from the radiant face of my hus- 
 band, who had never seemed half so princely as now, when he 
 was wholly my own. Once he b6nt his handsome head to 
 mine, and whispered, 'La Peregrina,' the pet name he had 
 given me, because he averred that, in his estimation, my love 
 was worth as many ducats as that celebrated pearl of Philip. 
 ' La Peregrina,' indeed ! Ah ! he melted it in gall and hem- 
 lock, and drained it at his wedding feast. My heart was so 
 overflowing with happiness that I slipped my fingers into 
 his, and, in answer to his fond epithet, whispered, ' Maurice, 
 my king.'" 
 
 The speaker was silent for a moment, and an expression of 
 disgust and scorn usurped the place of mournfulness. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I deserved my punishment, for no Aztec ever 
 worshipped his stone God more devoutly than I did my black- 
 eyed, smooth-lipped idol. ' Thou shalt have no other gods 
 before me.' Ah ! my ' graven image ' seemed so marvellously 
 godlike that°^I bowed down before it; and there, in the midst 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 367 
 
 of my adoration, the curse of idolatry smote me. Half fce- 
 wildered by the rapture that made my heart throb almost to 
 suffocation, I stole away from the guests and hid myself in 
 the small hot-house attached to Mr. Wright's study, longing 
 for a little quiet that would enable me to realize all the bless- 
 edness of my lot. With childish glee I toyed with my title, — 
 with my new name, — Maurice Carlyle's wife — Evelyn Carlyle ! 
 How pretty it sounded,; — ^how holy it seemed! My future 
 was as brilliant as that vast enchanted hall into which poor 
 N'ouronihar was enticed through her insane love for Vathek, 
 and, like hers, my illusion was dispelled by a decree that 
 strangled hope in my heart, and enveloped it in flames." 
 
 Here the flood of melancholy memories drowned her words, 
 and, crossing her arms on the stone balustrade, she sat silent 
 and moody. 
 
 In the dusky, crepuscular light, Dr. Grey could no longer 
 discern the emotions that printed themselves so legibly on her 
 countenance; but the outline of her face, and the listless, 
 hopeless droop of her figure, curved between him and the 
 dun waste of waters. 
 
 Overhead a few dim, hazy stars shivered on the ragged 
 skirts of trailing gray plouds, and the ceaseless rustle of the 
 shuddering poplars formed a mournful accompaniment to 
 the muttering of the ocean, whose weary waves were sobbing 
 themselves to rest, like scourged but unconquered children, 
 
 " I thank you for your patience, Dr; Grey. You forbear to 
 hurry me, even as you would shrink from rudely jostling or 
 pushing forward the mattock which slowly digs into a grave, — 
 removing human mould and crumbling co£5n, searching for 
 the skeleton beneath. Exhuming human bones is melancholy 
 work, but sadder still is the mission of one who disinters the 
 ashes of a woman's love, hope, and faith. Across the centre of 
 Mr. Wright's hot-house ran a light trellis of fine lattice-work, 
 cut into an arch and covered with the dense luxuriant foliage 
 of the bignonia trained over it. Behind this screen I had 
 ensconced my happy self, and sat idly bruising the leaves of 
 a rose geranium that chanced to be near me, when my bliss- 
 ful reverie was interrupted by the sound of that voice T»hieb 
 
368 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 had stolen, my heart, my reason, my common sense. Believ- 
 ing that he had missed and was searching for his bride, I 
 rose and peeped through the glossy leaves of the clamber- 
 ing vine that divided us. Not four feet distant stood my hus- 
 band of an hour, with his arms clasped fondly around Edith, 
 •who, in a broken, passionate voice, denounced his perfidy, and 
 heartlessness. Vehemently he pleaded for an opportunity to 
 exculpate himself, and there, tearful and sobbing, with her 
 head on his bosom, my friend listened to an explanation. that 
 was destined to enlighten more than one person. Prom his 
 lips I learned that he had become entangled in certain finan- 
 cial difficulties that involved his honor as a gentleman ; he had 
 used money to enable him to embark in a speculation which, 
 if successful, would have afforded him the means of marrying 
 in accordance with the dictates of his heart; but, like the 
 majority of nefarious schemes, it failed signally, and fear of 
 detection, and the absolute necessity of obtaining a large 
 amount of money,, had goaded him to the desperate step of 
 sacrificing his happiness and offering his hand to me. He 
 strained her to his breast, kissed her repeatedly, and im- 
 piously called God to witness that he loved her, and her only, 
 truly, tenderly; that never for an instant had his affection 
 wandered from her, 'his beautiful, idolized darling.' He 
 bitterly denounced his folly, cursed the hour that had thrown 
 me and my fortune in his path, and swore that he utterly 
 loathed and despised the silly child whose wealth alone had 
 made her his dupe; and, as he flatteringly expressed it, his 
 * hated and intolerable incubus.' He had intended to spare 
 her and himself the agony of this hour,' — had determined to 
 remain always in Europe, where he could escape the mocking 
 contrast of his bride and his beloved. With indescribable 
 scorn, and a wonderful fertility of derisive epithets, he held 
 me up, as on the point of a scalpel, and proved the utter im- 
 possibility of his having been influenced by any other than 
 the most grossly mercenary motives ; while, between the bursts 
 of invective against me, he lavished upon her a hundred fond, 
 tender, passionate phrases of endearment that had never been 
 applied to me. Pressing one hand on her head, he raised the 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 369 
 
 other, and called Heaven to witness, that, although the world 
 might regard him as the husband of ' that sallow, gray-eyed, 
 silly girl,' whose gold alone had bought his name, the only 
 woman he could ever love was his own beautiful Edith ; and, 
 should death come to his aid and free him from the detested 
 bond that linked him to the heiress, he swore he would not 
 lose a day in claiming the lovely wife that fate had denied 
 him. All this, and much more, which I have not now the req- 
 uisite patience to recapitulate, fell on my ears, startling me 
 more painfully than the trumpet-blast of the Last Judgment 
 will ever do. Standing there, in my costly bridal robe, I 
 listened to the revelation that blotted out all sun and moon 
 and stars from my life, — ^that made earth *a dismal Sheol and 
 the future a howling desolation, — a dreary wilderness of 
 woe. In my agony and shame I clenched my hands so 
 savagely, one upon, the other, that my diamond betrothal-ring 
 cut sharply into the quivering flesh, and blood-drops oozed 
 and dripped on my shining gossamer veil and white velvet 
 dress. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, my whole 
 nature was metamorphosed; and my coming years swept in 
 panoramic vision before me, beckoning me to the prompt per- 
 formance of a stern and humiliating duty. The blood in my 
 veins seemed to hiss and bubble like a seething cauldron, and 
 my heart fired with a hate for which language has no name, 
 no garb, no provision ; but my brain kept faithful guard, and 
 reason calmly pointed out my future path. When Mr. Carlyle 
 ended his tirade against me and his curses on his own folly, 
 I moved forward into the arch and confronted my dethroned 
 and defiled gods. If the tedious years of the primitive 
 patriarchs could be allotted to me they would never suffice 
 to efface the picture that lingers in deep, hot lines on my 
 memory, and pursues me as ruthlessly as the avenging cross 
 followed and tortured the miserable fugitive in Gustave 
 Dora's ' Le Juif errant,' or the Eyeless Christ that proved a 
 haunting Nemesis to the Enapress Irene. Edith's lovely face 
 was on his bosom, and his false, handsome lips were pressed 
 to hers. So, I met my husband and my dearest friend, one 
 hour after the utterance of vows that were perhaps still echo- 
 21 
 
370 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 ing in the courts of heaven. Such spectacles of human per- 
 fidy are the real Medusas that Gorgonize trusting, tender, 
 throbbing hearts, and in view of this one I laughed aloud, — 
 laughed so unnaturally that it was no marvel 1 was called a 
 maniac. At sight of my desperate white face Edith shrieked 
 and fainted, and Maurice blanched and stammered and cow- 
 ered. Without a word oi comment or recrimination I silently 
 passed on to my own room, where Elsie was waiting to clothe 
 me in my travelling-suit. In three hours the steamer would 
 sail, and I had little leisure for resolution and execution. 
 Summoning the lawyer to whose care my estate was entrusted, 
 I requested him to call Mr. Wright and Mr. Carlyle into the 
 dressing-room that adjoined my apartment, and there I held 
 an audience with the three who were most interested in my 
 career. Briefly I explained what had occurred, and an- 
 nounced my determination, then and there, to separate for- 
 ever from the man who could never be more than my nominal 
 husband. I told them I held marriage, next to the Lord's 
 Supper, the holiest sacrament instituted by God, but mine 
 had been an infamous mockery, an unpardonable sin against 
 me, and an unsult to Heaven, whose blessing could never rest 
 upon it. Marriage, without sanctifying love, was unhallowed, 
 was a transgression of divine law, and a crime against my 
 womanhood which neither God nor man should forgive. 
 Maurice Carlyle had perjured himself, — had never loved the 
 WMnan who went with him to the altar, — and the affection 
 that had stirred my heart one hour before, was now as dead 
 as the Pharaohs hidden for centuries, under the pyramids. 
 We two, who had sworn to love, honor, and cherish one 
 another, now hated and despised each other beyond all pos- 
 sibility of expression j and I considered it a heinous sin to 
 perpetuate the awful mockery, to cling to the letter of a con- 
 tract that bade defiance to every impulse of heart and soul, — 
 io every dictate of reason and decree of conscience. Wedded 
 lives and divided hearts I believed a crime, and while I 
 admitted that man could not put asunder those whom God's 
 statutes joined together, I contended that Mr. Carlyle's per« 
 jury rendered it sinful for him and me to reside under the 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAItT. 371 
 
 same roof. I could not recognize the validity of divorces, for 
 human hands could not unlink God's fetters, and man's law 
 had no power to free either of us from the bonds we had 
 voluntarily assumed in the invoked presence of Jehovah. I 
 would neither accept nor permit a divorce, for, in my estima- 
 tion, it was not worth the paper that framed it, and was a 
 species of sacrilegious trifling; but I would never live as 
 the wife of a man who had repeatedly declared he had not an 
 atom of affection for me. Under some circumstances I 
 deemed separation a woman's duty, and while I fully com- 
 prehended the awful import of the vow 'Till death us do 
 part/ and denied that human legislators could free us, or 
 annul the marriage, I was resolved, while life lasted, to 
 consider myself a duped, an unloved, but a lawful wife, — a 
 woman consecrated by solemn oaths that no human action 
 could cancel. Since money was the bait, I was willing to 
 divide my fortune as the price of a quiet separation; and 
 though from that hour I intended to quit his presence for- 
 ever, and regard the tie that linked us as merely nominal, I 
 would allow him a liberal income until I attained my major- 
 ity and would liquidate all his present debts. To your imagi- 
 nation. Dr. Grey, I leave the details of what ensued, — my 
 guardian's remorseful grief, my lawyer's wonder and ex- 
 postulation, Mr. Carlyle's confusion, chagrin, and rage. He 
 pleaded, argued, threatened; but he might as well have at- 
 tempted to catch and restrain in the hollow of his hind the 
 steady sweep of Niagara, as hope to change my purpose. My 
 terms were fixed, and I gave him permission to tell the world 
 what he chose concerning this strange denouement of the 
 wedding feast. If I could only go away at once, I cared not 
 what the public thought or said; and finally, finding me no 
 longer a yielding child, but a desperate, stern, relentless 
 woman, my terms were acceded .to. Briefly we discussed the 
 legal provisions, and I signed some hastily prepared papers 
 that settled a bountiful annuity upon Mr. Carlyle. My trunks 
 were sent to the steamer, the carriage was brought to the 
 door, and in the presence of my guardian and the lawyer, I 
 announced my desire never to look again upon the man who 
 
372 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 had so completely blighted my life. In silence I laid upon the 
 table my betrothal and wedding rings, and the sparkling dia- 
 mond cross that had constituted my bridal present. No word 
 of reproach passed my lips, for women love when they up- 
 braid, and only aching, fond hearts furnish stinging rebukes ; 
 but I hated and scorned the author of my ruin too utterly to 
 indulge in crimination and reproach. Se we two, who had 
 just been pronounced man and wife, who had clasped hands 
 and linked hearts and lives until we should stumble into the 
 tomb, — we, Maurice Carlyle and Evelyn, his bride, four hours 
 married, stood up and looked at each other for the last time. 
 During the interview I had addressed no remark- to him, and 
 the last words I ever uttered to him were contained in that 
 sentence fondly whispered when he bent over me at the table, 
 * Maurice, my king.' As I bade adieu to my guardian, and 
 paused before the princely figure whom th'fe ,world called my 
 husband, our eyes met, and he flushed, and muttered, ' You 
 will rue your rashness.' Silently I looked on the handsome 
 features that had so suddenly grown loathsome to me, and he 
 snatched my wedding ring from- the table and held it appeal- 
 ingly towards me, saying remorsefully, * Evelyn, my wife, for- 
 give your wretched husband!' Without' a word, or a touch 
 of his outstretched hands, I turned and went down to the 
 carriage, where my faithful nurse sat weeping and waiting. 
 One hour later, the vessel swung from her moorings, and Elsie 
 and i were soon at sea. A girl only sixteen, four hours mar- 
 ried, separated- forever from husband and -friendB,— without 
 hope or faith in either human or heavenly things, — ^hating, 
 with most intolerable intensity, the man whose name she had 
 just assumed, and to whom she felt indissolubly bound, in 
 accordance with the vow ' So long as ye both shall live.' " 
 
 Out of the tossing, moaning sea, the moon had risen slowly, 
 breaking through a rent scarf of cloud that barred her solemn, 
 white disc, and silvering the foam of the racing waves that 
 seemed to reflect the glittering fringe of the scudding vapor in 
 the chill vault above them. There was no mellow radiance, no 
 golden lustre such as southern moons are wont to shed, but 
 a weird, fitful glitter on sea and land, that now shone with 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 373 
 
 •tartling vividness, and anon waned, until sombre shadows 
 seemed stalking in spectral ranks from some distant, gloomy 
 ocean lair. It was one of those melancholy nights when 
 the super-natural realm threatened to impinge upon the 
 physical, that shuddered and shrank from the contact, — when 
 the atmosphere gave vague hints of ghostly denizens, and 
 every passing breeze seemed laden with sepulchral damps and 
 vibrating with sepulchral sounds. 
 
 Mrs. Gerome sat erect, with her hands resting on the balus- 
 trade, and under that mysteriously white moon her pearl- 
 pale face looked as hopelessly cold and rigid as any Perse- 
 politan sphinx, that nightly fronts the immemorial stars 
 which watch the ruined tombs of Chilminar. 
 
 Eaising her lingers to her forehead, she lifted and shook a 
 band of the shining white hair, and resumed her narration, in 
 the same steady, passionless tone. 
 
 "These gray locks were the fruit of that bridal day, for, 
 on the afternoon that we sailed, I was taken very ill with what 
 was called congestion of the brain, — was unconscious through- 
 out the voyage, and when we reached Liverpool^ my hair, pnce 
 so black and glossy, was as you see it now. Ah! how often, 
 since that time, have I heard poor Elsie mourning over my 
 mother's untimely death, and quoting that ancient supersti- 
 tion, ' You should never wean a child while trees are in blos- 
 som; otherwise it will have gray hair.' Mr. Wright was so 
 prostrated by grief at what had occurred, that he survived 
 my departure only a few weeks; and at his death, Mr. Carlyle 
 attempted to seize and control my estate. Urging the plea of 
 my minority, he insisted upon assuming the charge of my 
 property, and in order to consummate his avaricious designs, 
 and screen his name from opprobrium, he told the world that 
 I was hopelessly insane; and that the discovery of this fact, 
 one hour after his marriage, had induced him to send me 
 abroad under the care of a faithful and judicious nurse. To 
 give plausibility to this statement, a paragraph was inserted 
 in the New York papers announcing that I was a raving 
 maniac and an inmate of an English asylum for lunatics. 
 Mr. Clayton, my lawyer, was the sole surviving witness of my 
 
374 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 final interview, and of its financial provisions; and, had he 
 yielded to bribes and threats which were unsparingly offered, 
 God only knows what would have been my fate, since the 
 tender mercies of my husband destined me to the cheerful 
 and attractive precincts of a mad-house. To Mr. Clayton's 
 stern integrity and brave defence, I am indebted for the 
 preservation of my fortune and the defeat of a daring and in- 
 iquitous scheme to arrest me in London and commit me to 
 the custody of an a;sylum-warden. Fortunately for me, he 
 lived long enough to transfer to my own guardianship, when 
 I attained my majority, the estate which had cost me every 
 earthly hope. Six months after my departure from America 
 I bade farewell to Europe, and plunged into the most remote 
 and unfrequented portions of the East, where I wished to re- 
 main unknown and unnoticed. In a half-deiiant and half- 
 superstitious mood, I had assumed the talismanic and mys- 
 tical name of Alga Gerome, with the faint hope that it 
 might shield me from the intrigues and persecutions which I 
 felt assured would always dog the steps of Evelyn Carlyle. 
 Having appointed a cautious and confidential agent in New 
 York and Paris, I destroyed all traces of my whereabouts, 
 and became as utterly lost to the world as though the portals 
 of the grave had closed upon me. Without friends, and ac- 
 companied only by Elsie and her son Robert, I lived year after 
 year in wandering through strange lands. Books and pic- 
 tures were my solace, and to strangle time I first devoted my- 
 self to drawing and painting. After a while I came back to 
 Rome, and frequented the studios and galleries, pei-fecting 
 myself in the mechanical department of Art. But fear of 
 encountering some familiar face drove me from the Eternal 
 City, and a sudden whim took me to Madeira, where I spent 
 the only portion of my life to which I recur with any degree 
 of satisfaction. There, surrounded by magnificent scenery, 
 and eafe from intrusion, I intended to drag out the remainder 
 of my dreary years ; but poor Elsie grew so restless, so home- 
 sick, so impatient to visit the graves of her household band, 
 that I finally allowed myself to be persuaded into returning 
 to my native land. Robert preceded us, and purchased this 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 375 
 
 secluded spot, which I had stipulated must be upon the sea- 
 shore and secure from all intrusion. Avoiding New York, I 
 came reluctantly to Boston, thence to ' Solitude,' without 
 seeing or hearing of any whom I had once known. When I 
 was twenty-one, I transferred to Mr. Carlyle the sum of thirty 
 thousand dollars, as a final settlement; but my agent scrupu- 
 lously obeyed my instructions, and no human being, save him- 
 self, is aware of my place of residence or the name under 
 which I am sheltered. Strenuous efforts have been made by 
 Mr. Carlyle to unearth his wretched dupe, but since I left 
 England, nearly eight years ago, he has been unable to dis- 
 cover any trace of my location. From time to time I received 
 bills, contracted by him, and paid by my lawyer after I left 
 New York ; and in my escritoire are two accounts _of jewellers, 
 where I find charged the flashing ring and costly diamond 
 cross, which I refused to retain but for which I paid, after 
 my separation. Prone to dissipation, Mr. Carlyle plunged in- 
 to excesses that would have squandered royal portions, and 
 my agent writes that his eagerness to ascertain where I am 
 residing has recently increased, in consequence of his pe- 
 cuniary necessities, although the terms of our separation de- 
 prive him of every shadow of claim upon me or my purse. 
 Such, Dr. Grey, is the shattered idol of my girlish adoration, 
 — such the divinity of dust upon which I spent the treasures 
 of my love and trust. Gray-haired, gray-hearted, mocked, and 
 maddened in the dawn of my confiding womanhood, nom- 
 inally a wife, but in reality a nameless waif, shut out from 
 happiness, and pitied as a maniac,— such, is that most deso- 
 late and isolated woman, whom, as Agla Gerome, you have 
 known as the mistress of this lonely place. As for my name, 
 I sometimes wonder whether in the last great gathering in the 
 court of Heaven, my own mother will know what to call her 
 unbaptized child, — whether the sins charged against me will 
 be read out as those of Vashti, or Evelyn, or Agla, Elsie 
 persistenly clung to Vashti, and verily there seems a grim 
 fitness in her selection, — a dismal analogy between my blasted 
 life and that of the discrowned Persian Queen. Be that as it 
 may, if I miss a name I surely shall not miss the equity that 
 
3T6 UNTIL DEATH U,S DO PART. 
 
 man denies me. ' So long as ye hoth shall live.' When I 
 look out in spring-time, over the blossoming earth, daisies, 
 and violets, and primroses range themselves into lines that 
 spell out these hated words i of an ever-echoing vow, and if, 
 in midnight hours, I raise my weary eyes, the sleepless stars 
 revengefully group themselves, and flash back to me, in burn- 
 ing characters, ' Till death us do part.' Up- yonder, behind 
 sun, and planet, and nebulae, I shall look God in the face, and 
 pointing to my withered heart and blighted life, can say truly, 
 * At least I kept the ruins free from perjury ; there, at your 
 feet, is the oath unsullied, that I called you to accept on the 
 awful day when I knelt at your altar.' Love, honor, and 
 obedience, Maurice Carlyle's unworthiness rendered impos- 
 sible; but the vow which consecrated and set me apart, which 
 forbade the thought that other men might offer homage and 
 affection, or even ordinary tributes of admiration, I have kept 
 sacredly and faithfully. I might have plunged into the whirl- 
 pool of fashionable life, and found temporary oblivion of my 
 humiliation and disappointment ; but from such a career my 
 whole being revolted, and in seclusion I have dragged out a 
 dreary series of years that can scarcely be termed life. 
 Recently I have been honored by several proposals for a 
 divorce, on condition of an additional settlement of money 
 upon my eminently chivalric and devoted husband; but my 
 invariable reply has been, human legislation is impotent to 
 cancel the statutes of Almighty God, which declare that only 
 death can free what Jehovah has joined together, and the legal 
 provisions of man crumble and shrivel before the divine com- 
 mand, 'For the woman which hath an husband is bound by 
 the law to her husband so long as he liveth.' With what im- 
 patience, what ceaseless yearning, I await the cold touch of 
 that deliverer who alone can sever my galling, detested fetters, 
 none but the God above us can understand and realize. The 
 eagerness with which I once anticipated my bridal hour does 
 not approximate the intensity of my longing for the day of 
 my death. merciful God ! surely, surely, I have been suffi- 
 ciently tortured, and the tardy release can not be far distant." 
 She raised her face skyward, as if invoking Divine aid, but 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. ^7*1 
 
 her wan lips were voiceless ; and only the song of the surf min- 
 gled with the whisper of trembling poplars, whose fading 
 leaves gleamed ghostly and chill under the silver sheen of 
 that broad white moon. 
 
 " There heavily, across the troubled night, 
 A warning comet trails her hideous hair, 
 And underneath, the wroth sea- waves are white." 
 
 During the hour in which Dr. Grey listened to the recital 
 of this woman's hapless career, she became as utterly dead to 
 him as though shroud and sepulchre had already claimed her; 
 and when she ceased speaking, he looked as sorrowfully down 
 at her fair, frozen face, as if the cofSn-lid were shutting it 
 forever from his view. 
 
 Henceforth she was as sacred in his sad eyes as some beloved 
 corpse, and bowing his head upon his hands, he prayed long 
 but silently that God would strengthen him for the duties of 
 a desolate future,^ — would sanctify this grievous disappoint- 
 ment to his eternal welfare, and grant him power to lead 
 heavenward the heart of the only woman whom he had ever 
 desired to call his own. 
 
 Putting away the beautiful dreams wherein this regal form 
 had moved to and fro as crown and queen of his home and 
 heart, he calmly resigned the cherished scheme that linked this 
 woman's life with his; and felt that he would gladly barter 
 all his earthly hopes for the assurance, that, throughout 
 eternity, he might be allowed the companionship which time 
 denied him. 
 
 Mrs. Gerome rose, and folding her mantle around her, said 
 proudly, — 
 
 " Married life, unhallowed by love, is more acceptable in 
 your righteous eyes than my isolated existence ; and you have 
 passed sentence against me. So be it. Strange code of moral- 
 ity you Christians hug to your hearts,, squeezing the form 
 that holds no spirit ; but some day I shall be acquitted by 
 that incorruptible tribunal where God. alone has the right 
 to judge us. Till then, farewell." 
 
378 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 She turned to leave the terrace, but he arrested the move* 
 ment, and placed himself before her. 
 
 " You misinterpret my silence, if you suppose it was em- 
 ployed in censuring your course. Pondering all that you have 
 recapitulated, I can conjecture no line of conduct towards 
 your husband less deplorable than that which you have pur- 
 sued ; and I honor the stern honesty and integrity of purpose 
 from which you have never swerved. Mrs. Carlyle, I acquit 
 you of all guilt, save that of impious defiance, of rebellion 
 against your God, whose grace could sweeten even the bitter 
 dregs of the cup you have well-nigh drained." 
 
 At the sound of her name, so long unuttered, she winced 
 and writhed as if some sensitive nerve had been suddenly 
 pierced and torn ; but without heeding her emotion, Dr. Grey 
 continued, — 
 
 " If your earthly lot has been stinted of sunshine, can you 
 not bear a little temporary gloom, — must you needs people 
 it with adverse witnessias, must you thicken the darkness 
 with imprecations? You forget that life is only the race- 
 course, not the goal,— that this world is for human souls 
 what the plain of Dura proved for the Hebrew trio who braved 
 its flames. Suppose you are lonely and bereft of the love 
 that might have cheered you? Was not Christ far more 
 isolated and loveless? In His fearful ordeal He was forsaken 
 by God, — ^but to you remains the everlasting promise, * I will 
 not leave you comfortless; I will come to you.' wretched 
 woman! give your aching heart to Him who emptied it of 
 earthly idols in order to fit it up for His own temple. 
 
 ' Is Ood less God, that thou art left undone ? 
 Bise, worship, bless Him, in this sackcloth spun, 
 As in that purple.' " 
 
 Silently she listened, boking steadily up at his noble face, 
 where intense mental anguish had left unwonted pallor, and 
 printed new ciphers on brow and lips; and when his adjura- 
 tion ended, she put out her hand. 
 
 "That you do not condem me is the most precious con- 
 eolation you could offer, for your good opinion is worth much 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. Z79 
 
 to my proud, sensitive soul. If all men were like you there 
 would be no mutilated, ruined lives, such as mine, — no 
 nominal wives roaming up and down the world in search of 
 an obscure corner wherein to hide dishonored heads and 
 crushed hearts. God grant you some day a wife worthy of the 
 noblest man it has ever been my good fortune to meet. Good- 
 by." 
 
 He did not accept the offered hand, and stood for a moment 
 as if struggling to master some impulse to which he could not 
 yield. Perhaps he dared not trust the touch of those gleam- 
 ing, slender fingers that had clasped a living husband's; or 
 perchance he was so absorbed by painful thoughts that he 
 failed to observe them. 
 
 Laying his palm softly on her snowy head, he said ten- 
 derly,— 
 
 "Mrs. Carlyle, you have innocently, and I believe uncon- 
 sciously, caused me the keenest suffering I have ever endured.; 
 and I feel assured you will not withhold the only reparation 
 which you could render, or I accept. Will you promise to 
 consecrate the remainder of your life to the service of Christ? 
 Will you humble your defiant soul, and so spend your future, 
 that when this brief earthly pilgrimage ends you can pass joy- 
 fully to the city of Eest ? Girded with this hope, I can brave 
 all trials, — can be content to look upon your face no more in 
 this world, — can patiently wait for a reunion in that Eternal 
 Home where they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain 
 that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry 
 nor are given in marriage." 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Grey, if it were possible ! " 
 
 She clasped her hands and bowed her chin upon them, awed 
 by his tones, and unable to met his grave, pleading eyes. 
 
 " Faith and prayer are the talismans that render all things 
 possible to an earnest Christian; and it has been truly said 
 ' We mount to heaven mostly on the ruins of our cherished 
 Bchemes, finding our failures were successes.' Kecollect, — 
 
 ' There is a pleasure which is bom of pain : 
 The grave of all things hath its violet,' 
 
380 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and do not indulge a corroding bitterness that has almost, de- 
 stroyed the nobler elements of your nature. I will exact no 
 promise, but when I am gone, do not forget the request that 
 my soul makes of yours. May God point out your work and 
 help you to perform it faithfully. May His hand guide and 
 uphold, and His merciful arms enfold you, now and forever, 
 is and shall be my prayer." 
 
 For a moment his hand lingered as if in benediction upon 
 the drooping gray head, then he quietly turned and walked 
 away, knowing full well that he was bidding adieu to the most 
 precious of all earthly objects, — that he too was shattering 
 a lovely "graven image," before which his heart had fondly 
 bowed. 
 
 As the sound of his firm step died away, the lonely woman 
 lifted her face and looked after the form, vanishing in the 
 gloom of the overarching trees. When he had disappeared, 
 and she turned seaward, where the moon, as if inviting her 
 to heaven, had laid a broad ,shining band of beaten silver 
 from wave to sky, — the miserable wife raised her hands ap- 
 pealingly, and made a new convenant with her pitying God. 
 
 " Wherefore thy life 
 Shall purify itself, and heal itself, 
 In the long toil of love made meek by tears." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 " Merton, you are not conscious of the extent of your in- 
 fatuation, which has already excited comment in our limited 
 circle of acquaintances." 
 
 " Indeed ! The members of ' our limited circle of acquaint- 
 ances ' are heartily welcome to whatever edification or amuse- 
 meiit they-may be able to derive from the discussion of my in- 
 dividual affairs, or the analysis of my peculiar tastes. You 
 forget, my dear Constance, that to devour and in turn be 
 devoured is an inexorable law of this world; and if my eccen- 
 tricities furnish a ragout for omnivorous society, I should be 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 381 
 
 philanthropically glad that tittle-tattledom owes me thanks." 
 
 The speaker did hot lay aside the newspaper that partially 
 concealed his countenance; and when he ceased speaking, his 
 eyes reverted to the statistical table of Egyptian and Algerine 
 cotton, which for some moments he had been attentively ex- 
 amining. 
 
 " My dear brother, you are spasmodically and provokingly 
 philosophical ! Pray do me the honor to discard that stupid 
 Times, which you pore over as if it were the last sensation 
 novel, and be so courteous as to look at me while you are 
 talking," replied the invalid sister, beating a tattoo on the side 
 of her couch. 
 
 " I believe I have nothing to communicate just 'now," was 
 the quiet and unsatisfactory answer, as he drew a pencil from 
 his pocket and made some numeral annotations on the margin 
 of the statistics. 
 
 " Surely, Merton, you are not angry with your poor Con- 
 stance ? " 
 
 Merton Minge lowered his paper, restored the pencil to his 
 vest pocket, and wheeling his chair forward, brought himself 
 closer to the couch. 
 
 " I wish you were as far removed from fever as I certainly 
 am from anger. Your eyes are too bright, my pretty one." 
 
 He put his fingers on her pulse, and when he removed them, 
 compressed his lips to stifle a sigh. 
 
 " Why will you so persistently evade me ? — why will you 
 always change the subject when I allude to that young lady ? " 
 
 " Because, when a man attains the sober and discreet age of 
 forty years, he naturally and logically thinks he has earned, 
 and is entitled to, an exemption from the petty teasing to 
 which sophomores and sentimentalists are subjected. While I 
 gratefully appreciate the compliment implied in your forget- 
 fulness, permit to remind you of the disagreeable fact that 
 I am no longer a boy." 
 
 " You lose sight of that same ugly and ill-mannered fact, 
 much more frequently than I am in danger of doing ; and I 
 affectionately suggest that you stimulate your ovra torpid 
 memory. Ah, brother! why will you not be frank, and con- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 fide ip me? Women are not easily hoodwinked, except bj 
 their loyers, — and you can not deceive me in this matter.** 
 
 " What pleasure do you suppose it would afford me lo prac- 
 tice deceit of any kind towards my only sister? To what 
 class of motives could you credit such condijct ? " 
 
 " I think you shrink from acknowledging your real feel- 
 ings, because you very well know that I could never sanction 
 or consent to them." 
 
 Mr. Minge arched his heavy brows, and the sternly drawn 
 lines of his large mouth relaxed, and threatened to run into 
 curves that belonged to the ludicrous, as he turned his twink- 
 ling eyes upon his sister's face. 
 
 "What extraordinary hsillucinations attack even sage, se- 
 date, middle-aged men ? Ten minutes ago I would have sworn 
 I was your guardian; whereas, it seems your apron-strings 
 are the reins that rule me. Don't pout, my Czarina, if I 
 demand your credentials before I bow submissively to your 
 ukase." 
 
 " Irony is not your forte ; and, Merton, I beg you to recol- 
 lect that I detest bantering,^ — it is so excessively ungenteel. 
 No wonder you look nervous and ashamed, after your recent 
 very surprising manifestation of — ^well, I might as well say 
 what I mean — of mauvais goM." 
 
 Constance Minge impatiently threw off the light worsted 
 shawl that rested on her shoulders, and propped her cheek en 
 her jewelled hand. 
 
 Her brother's countenance clouded, and his lips hardened, 
 but after one keen look at her flushed features, he once more 
 resumed the perusal of the paper. Some moments elapsed, 
 and his sister sobbed, but he took no notice of the sound. 
 
 " Merton, I never expected you would treat me so cruelly." 
 
 " Make out your charges in detail, and when you are sure 
 you have included all the petty deeds of tyranny as well as the 
 heinous acts of brutality, I will examine the indictment, and 
 hear myself arraigned. Shall I bring you some legal cap, and 
 loan you my pencil ? " 
 
 For five minutes she held her handkerchief to her eyes, and 
 then Mr. Minge rose and looked at his watch. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. . 383 
 
 " You will not be so unkind as to leave me again this af ter- 
 K»on, and spend your time with that — " 
 
 " Constance, you transcend your privileges, and this is a 
 most apropos and convenient occasion to remind you that 
 presumption is one fault I find it particularly difficult to for- 
 give. Since my forbearance only invites aggression, let me 
 hear say (as an economy of trouble), that you are raahly in- 
 vading a realm where I permit none to enter, much less to 
 dictate. I hope you understand me." 
 
 " I knew it, — I felt it ! I dreaded that artful girl would 
 make mischief between us, — would alienate the only heart I 
 had left to care for me. Oh, how I wish she had been forty 
 fathoms under the sea before you ever saw her! — ^before you 
 ceased to love me ! " 
 
 A flood of tears emphasized the sentence, which seemed lost 
 upon Mr. Minge, as he lighted a cigar, tried its flavor, threw 
 it away, and puffed the smoke from a second. 
 
 " I am sorry you can't smoke and compose your nerves, as I 
 am preparing to do, — ^though I confess I prefer to kiss your 
 lips untainted by such odors. Shall I ? " 
 
 He held his cigar aside to prevent the wind from wafting 
 the curling column of smoke in her face, and bent his head 
 close to hers ; but she put up her hand to prevent the caress, 
 and averted her face. 
 
 " As you like. But mark you, Constance, the next time our 
 lips touch, you will find yourself in the nominative case, while 
 I meekly fill an objective position. You are a poor, wilful, 
 spoiled child, and I miist begin to undo my own ruinous 
 work." 
 
 He picked up his hat and walked off, followed by a pretty 
 Italian mouse-colored greyhound, whose silver bell tinkled as 
 she ran down the steps. 
 
 "Merton, come back! Do not leave me here alone, or I 
 shall die. Brother !— " 
 
 On strode the stalwart figure, looking neither to right nor 
 left, and behind him trailed the vaporous aroma of the fine 
 cigar. Baising herself on her couch, the invalid elevated her 
 voice, and exclaimed, — 
 
384 VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Please, dear Merton, come back, — ^at least long enougfi to 
 let me kiss you. Please, brother ! " 
 
 He paused, — ^wavered, — drew geometrical figures on the 
 ground with the tip of his boot, and finally took off his hat, 
 turned and bowed, saying, — 
 
 " Show some flag of truce, if you really want me to return." 
 
 She raised her hands and gracefully tossed him several 
 
 Slowly Mr. Minge retraced his steps, and, as he sat down 
 once more close to his sister and pushed back his hat, she saw 
 that he intended her to realize that her reign was at an end ; 
 and she trembled and turned pale at the expression with which 
 he regarded her. 
 
 "Merton, don't you know — don't you believe — ^that I love 
 you above everything else ? " ■ 
 
 She sat erect, and stole one arm around the neck that did 
 not bend toward her, as was its habit. 
 
 " If you really loved me, you would -desire to see me happy." 
 
 "I do desire it, earnestly and sincerely; and there is no 
 sacrifice I would not make to see you really happy." 
 
 " Provided I selected your mode of obtaining the boon, and 
 moreover consulted your caprices and antipathies; otherwise, 
 my happiness would annoy and insult you." 
 
 "Don't scold, — kiss me." She put up her lips, but he did 
 not respond to the motion, and she pettishly drew his head 
 down and kissed him several times. " How obstinate you have 
 grown! — ^how harsh towards me! It is all the result of 
 that—" 
 
 She bit her lip, and her brother frovraed. 
 
 "Take care! You seem continually disposed to stumble 
 very awkwardly into forbidden realms." 
 
 The petted invalid nestled her pretty head on his bosom, 
 and patted his cheek with one hot hand. 
 
 " Brother, Kate Sutherland was here this morning, and left 
 — besides numerous kind messages for you — a three-cornered 
 note that I ordered Adele to place in your dressing-case, 
 where I felt sure you would see it." 
 
 "Yes, I saw it." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 385 
 
 '' An invitation to ascend Monte Pellegrini ? " 
 
 ■' Which I respectfully decline." 
 
 ' Merton ! Why not go ? " 
 
 " Simply because I never premeditatedly, and with malice 
 prepense, bore myself by joining parties composed of persons 
 in whom I have not an atom of interest." 
 
 "But Kate is so lovely?" 
 
 « Not to me." 
 
 " Nonsense ! She was the handsomest young girl in Paris, 
 and was the acknowledged belle of the season." 
 
 " Possibly. Henna-dyed nails are considered irresistible in 
 Turkey, but your opalescent ones attract me infinitely more 
 pleasantly." 
 
 " Pray what have my nails to do with Kate's beauty ? " 
 
 " Noiiiing destructive, I hope, — as I am disposed to think 
 she has little to spare." 
 
 " Good heavens ! You surely would not insinuate that you 
 believe or consider, — or would admit, that she is not vastly 
 superior to — ^to — ^there. Beauty, down! She is actually 
 dining on the fringe of my pelerine ! " 
 
 To cover her confusion, Constance addressed herself to the 
 diminutive dog at her feet, and taking her flushed face in his 
 hands, the brother looked steadily down, and answered, — 
 
 " I never insinuate. It impresses me as a cowardly and con- 
 temptible bit of plebeian practice that found favor after the 
 royal purple was trailed in agrarian democratic dust; and 
 lest you should unjustly impute abhorred innuendoes to me, 
 I will say perspicuously, that the most attractive and beauti- 
 ful woman I have ever seen is not your fair friend Miss 
 Sutherland, nor any other darling of diamond and satin sheen, 
 but a young lady whom I admire beyond expression, Misu 
 Salome Owen." 
 
 An angry flush burned on the invalid's face, and her mouth 
 curled scornfully. 
 
 "She is rather handsome sometimes, — so are gypsies and 
 
 other waifs; but it is a wild sort of beauty, — if beauty you 
 
 persist in terming it; and low birth and blood are visible in 
 
 everything that appertains to her. I never expected to see 
 
 85 
 
386 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 my brother condescend to the level of opera-singers, and I am 
 astonished at your infatuation.' There ! you need not expect 
 to blast me with that fiery look, and besides, you know you 
 mentioned her name, which I had scrupulously avoided. I 
 confess I am very proud of my family, and of yoil, its sole 
 male representative, and I wish it preserved from all taint." 
 " Untainted it shall remain, while a drop of the blood throbs 
 in my veins, and I, who am jealous of my honor, have care- 
 fully pondered the matter, and maturely decided that he who 
 entrusts his happiness to Salome Owen will be indeed an en- 
 viable man, and pardonably proud of his prize. Once I bar- 
 tered myself away at the altar, and gave my name and hand 
 for wealth, for aristocratic antecedents, for fashionable status, 
 and five years of purgatorial misery was the richly merited 
 penalty for the insult I offered my heart. Death freed me, 
 'and for ten years I have lived at least in peace, indulging no 
 thought of a second alliance, and merely amused, or disgusted 
 by the matrimonial snares that have lined my path. I no 
 longer belong to that pitiable class who feel constrained to 
 marry for position, and who convert the dtar-steps into so 
 many rounds of the social ladder ; and I have earned the right 
 to indulge my outraged heart in any caprice that promises to 
 mellow, to gild the evening of my life with that home-sun- 
 shine that was denied its gloomy tempestuous morniag. My 
 future, my fortune, my social standing, my unblemished name, 
 are all my own, — and I shall exercise my privilege of bestow- 
 ing them where and when I please, heedless of the sneers and 
 howls of disappointed mercenary schemers. Come weal,- come 
 woe, I here announce that neither you nor the world need hope 
 to influence me one ' jot or tittle ' in an affair where I allow 
 no impertinent interference. I warn you this is the last time 
 I shall permit even an indirect allusion to matters with which 
 you have no legitimate concern ; and provided you do not ob- 
 trude them upon me, it is a question of indifference to me 
 what your opinion and that of your * circle ' may chance to 
 be. Constance, you here have your ultimatum. Defy me, if 
 you please, but prompt separation will ensue ; and you will un- 
 expectedly find yourself en route for America. Peace or 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PAST. 387 
 
 war? Before you decide, recollect that all your future will 
 be irretrievably colored by it." 
 
 " In my state of health it is positively cruel for you to 
 threaten me; and some day when you follow my coffin to 
 Mount Auburn, you will repent your harshness. I wish to 
 heaven I had never left home ! " 
 
 A passionate fit of weeping curtailed the sentence, and, 
 while the face was covered with the lace handkerchief, the 
 brother rose and made his escape. 
 
 Despite the fact that forty years had left their whiten- 
 ing touches on his head and luxuriant beard, Merton Minge, 
 who had never been handsome, even in youth, was sufficiently 
 agreeable in appearance to render him an object of deep in- 
 terest in the circle where he moved. Medium-statured, and 
 very robust, a healthful ruddy tinge robbed his complexion 
 of that sallow hue which mercantile pursuits are apt to in- 
 duce, and brightened the deep-set black eyes which his debtors 
 considered mercilessly keen, cold, and incisive. 
 
 The square face, with its broad, full forehead, and deep 
 curved furrow dividing the thick straight brows, — its well- 
 shaped but prominent nose, and massive Jaws and chin par- 
 tially veiled by a grizzled beard that swept over his deep 
 chest, — ^was suggestive of ledgers rent-roll, and stock-boards, 
 rather than aesthetics, chivalry, or sentimentality. The only 
 son of a proud but impoverished family, who were eager to re- 
 trieve their fortune, he had early in life married the imperious 
 spoiled daughter of a Boston millionaire, whose dower con- 
 sisted of five hundred thousand dollars, and a temper that 
 eclipsed the unamiable exploits of ancient and modern shrews. 
 
 Hopeless of domestic happiness in a union to which affec- 
 tion had not prompted him, Mr. Minge devoted himself to 
 the rapid accumulation of wealth, and by judicious and suc- 
 cessful speculations had doubled his fortune, ere, at the com- 
 paratively early age of thirty, he was left a childtes widower. 
 Whether he really thanked fate for his timely release, his 
 most intimate friends were never able to ascertain, for he 
 wore mourning, badges for three years, and conducted himself 
 in all respects with exemplary ^gnity and scrupulous pro- 
 
38S UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 priety. But the frigid indifCerence with, which he received all 
 matrimonial overtures indicated that his conjugal experience 
 was not so rosy as to tempt him to repeat the experiment. 
 
 His mother was a haughty, frivolous woman, jealously tena- 
 cious of her position as one of the oligarchs of le beau monde, 
 and his fragile sister had from childhood been the victim of 
 rheumatism that frequently rendered her entirely helpless. 
 To these two and their fashionable friends, he abandoned his 
 elegant home, costly equipages, and opera-box, reserving only 
 a suite of rooms, his handsome riding-horse, and yacht. 
 
 Grave and unostentatious, yet not moody, — ^neither impul- 
 sively liberal and generous nor habitually penurious and un- 
 charitable, — ^he led a quiet and monotonously easy life, varied 
 by occasional trips to foreign lands, and comforted by the as- 
 surance that his income-tax was one of the heaviest in the 
 state. Two years after the death of his mother, he took his 
 sister a second time to Europe, hoping that the climate of 
 the Levant might relieve her suffering ; and upon the steamer 
 in which he crossed the Atlantic he met Salome Owen. 
 
 Extravagantly fond of music, though unable to extract it 
 from any instrument, his attention had first been attracted 
 by her exquisite voice, which invested the voyage with a novel 
 charm and rendered her a great favorite with the passengers. 
 
 Human nature is wofuUy inflexible and obstinate, and not 
 all the Menus, Zoroasters, Solomons, and Platos have taught 
 it wisdom; wherefore it is not surprising that a caustic wit 
 and savage cynic asserts, " The vices, it may be said, await us 
 in the journey of life like hosts with whom we must succes- 
 sively lodge; and I doubt whether experience would make 
 us avoid them if we were to travel the same road a second 
 'time." 
 
 Habit may be second nature, but it is the Gurth, the thrall 
 •f the first, — the vassal of inherent impulses; and even the 
 most ossified natures contain some soft palpitating spot that 
 will throb against the hand that is sufiiciently dexterous to 
 find it. In every man and woman there lurks a vein of sen- 
 timent, which, no matter how heavily crushed by the super- 
 incumbent mass of utilitarian, practical eommonplaceisms. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 389 
 
 will one day trickle through the dusty debris, and creep like a 
 silver thread over the dun waste of selfishness; or, Arethusa- 
 like, burst forth suddenly after long subterranean wandering. 
 
 For forty years it had crawled silently and sluggishly under 
 the indurated and coldly egoistic nature of Merton Minge, — 
 had been dammed up at times by avarice and at others by grim 
 recollections of his domestic infelicity; but finally, after 
 tedious meandering in the Desert of Heartlessness, it strug- 
 gled triumphantly to the surface one glorious autumn night, 
 when a golden moon illumined the Atlantic waves and kin- 
 dled a bewitching beauty in the face of Salome, who sat on 
 deck, singing an impassioned strain from La Favorite. 
 
 Her silvery voice was the miraculous rod that smote his pet- 
 rified affections, and a wellspring of tenderness gushed forth, 
 freshening, softening, and clothing with verdure and bloom 
 his arid, sterile, stony temperament. Long-buried dreams of 
 his boyhood stirred in their chilly graves and flitted dimly 
 before him, and a hope that had slumbered so soundly he had 
 utterly ignored its memory, started up, eager and starry- 
 eyed, as in the college days of eld, — the precious hope, under- 
 lying all other emotions in a man's heart, that one day he too 
 would be loved and prayed for by a pure womanly heart, and 
 pure, sweet, womanly lips. 
 
 Fifteen years before, he had vowed "to cherish," not the 
 haughty girl whose hand he clasped, but the five hundred 
 thousand dollars that gilded it; and faithfully he had kept 
 his oath to the god of his idolatry, sacrificing the best half of 
 his life to insatiate Euvera. 
 
 On that cloudless October night, as he watched the shim- 
 mer of the moon on Salome's silky hair, and noted the purely 
 oval outline of her daintily carved face, and the childish grace 
 of her fine form, — as he listened to flute-like tones, as irresist- 
 ible as Parthenope's, his cold, formal, non-committal mouth 
 stirred, his hand involuntarily opened and closed firmly, as if 
 grasping some "pearl of great price," and his slow, almost 
 stagnant pulses, leaped into feverish activity, and soon ran 
 riot. Perhaps more regular features, and deeper, richer carna- 
 tion bloom had confronted him, but love makes sad havoc of 
 
390 VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 ideals and abstract standards, and he who defined beauty, 
 " the woman I love," was wiser than Burke and more analyti* 
 cal than Cousin. 
 
 The freshness, the irusquerie, the outspoken honesty, that 
 characterized Salome, strangely fascinated this grave, selfish, 
 ilase aristocrat, who was weary of hollow, polished convention- 
 alities and stereotyped society phrases; and, as he sat on 
 deck watching her countenance, he would have counted out his 
 fortune at her feet for the privilege of claiming her fair, 
 slender hand, and her tremulous, scarlet lips, instinct with 
 melody that entranced him. 
 
 Henceforth life had a different goal, a nobler aim, a 
 tenderer and more precious hope ; and all the energy of his 
 vigorous character was bent to the fulfilment of the beautiful 
 dream that one day that young girl would bear his name, 
 grace his princely home, and nestle in his heart. 
 
 He did not ask,, Can that fair, graceful, gifted young thing 
 ever love a gray-haired man, old enough to call her his daugh- 
 ter ? Nay, nay ! Common sense was utterly dethroned and 
 expelled, — romance usurped the realm, and draped the future 
 with rainbows; and he only set his teeth firmly against each 
 other, and said to his bounding heart and blinded soul, " Pa- 
 tience, ye shall soon possess her ! " 
 
 To Paris,' Lyons, Naples, he had followed her, and finally 
 secured a villa at Palermo, where Prof. V — — had established 
 himself and his household in a comfortable suite of rooms. 
 
 To-day, as he left his sister and approached the house where 
 the professor dwelt, his countenance was moody and forbid- 
 ding, but its expression changed rapidly, as he caught a 
 glimpse of the white muslin dress that fluttered in the even- 
 ing wind. 
 
 Salome was swiftly pacing the wide terrace that commanded 
 a view of the Mediterranean, and her hands were clasped be- 
 hind her, as was her habit when immersed in thought. 
 
 Over her head she had thrown a white gauze scarf of 
 fringed silk, which, slipping back, displayed the elaborate 
 braids of hair wound around the head, where a crescent of 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. S91 
 
 snowy hyacinths partially encircled the glossy coil, and 
 drooped upon her neck. 
 
 Her face wore a haggard, anxious, restless expression, and 
 the thin lips had lost their bright coral tint,^ — the smooth, 
 clear cheeks something of their rounded perfection. 
 
 As Mr. Minge came forward, she paused in her walk and 
 leaned against the marble railing of the terrace, where a 
 lemon tree, white with bloom, overhung the mosaiced floor and 
 powdered it with velvety petals. 
 
 He held out his hand. 
 
 " I hope I find you better ? " 
 
 " Do I look so, think you ? " said she, eyeing him im- 
 patiently, and keeping her hands folded behind her. 
 
 "Unfortunately, no; and if I possessed the right I have 
 more than once solicited, other physicians should be consulted. 
 Why will you tamper with so serious a matter, and unneces- 
 sarily augment the anxiety of those who love you? " 
 
 " I beg you to believe that my self-love is infinitely stronger 
 than any other- with which I am honored, and prompts me to 
 all possible prudential precautions. Three doctors have al- 
 ready annoyed me with worthless prescriptions, and this 
 morning I paid their bills and dismissed them; whereupon, 
 one of them revenged himself by maliciously informing me 
 that I should not be able to sing a note for one year at least. 
 
 "To what do. they attribute the disease?" 
 
 " To that attack of scarlet fever, and also to the too fre- 
 quent and severe cauterization of my throat. Time was when 
 like other f6"nd fools, I fancied Fate was not the hideous hag 
 that wiser heads had painted h€r, but an affable old dame, 
 easily cajoled and propitiated. With Carthaginian gratitude 
 she repays my complimentary opinion by trampling my hopes 
 and aims as I crush these petals, which yield perfume to their 
 spoiler, while I could — " 
 
 She put her foot upon, the drifting lemon blossoms, and 
 bit her lip to keep back the bitter words that trembled ;;n 
 her tongue. 
 
 " Come and sit here on the steps, and confide your plans to 
 
392 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 one whose every scheme shall be subordinated to your wishes, 
 your happiness." 
 
 Mr. Minge attempted to take her hand, but she drew back 
 and repulsed him. 
 
 " Excuse me. I prefer to remain where I am ; and when I 
 am so fortunate and sagacious as to mature any plans, I shall 
 be sure to lock them in my own heart beyond the tender 
 mercies of meddling, marplot fortune." 
 
 Her whole face grew dark, sinister, almost dangerous in its 
 sudden transformation, and, leaning against the railing, she 
 impatiently swept off the snowy lemon leaves. Mr. Minge 
 took the ehd of her scarf, and as he toyed with the fringe, 
 sighed heavily. 
 
 " Of course you are forced to abandon your contemplated , 
 dehut in Paris ? " 
 
 "Yes. A debut minus a voice, does not tempt me. Ah! 
 how bright the future looked when I sang for the agent of 
 the Opera-House, and found myself engaged for the season. 
 How changed, how cheerless all things seem now." 
 
 *' Salome, fate is Janus-faced, and while frowning on you 
 smiles benignantly on me. I joyfully hail every obstacle that 
 bars your path, hoping that, weary of useless resistance, you 
 will consent to walk in the flowery one I have offered you. 
 My beautiful darling, why will you refuse the — " 
 
 " Silence ! I am in no mood to listen' to a repetition of sen- 
 timents which, however flattering to ray vanity, have no power 
 to touch my heart. Mr. Minge, I have twice declined the offer 
 you have done me the honor to make; and while proud of 
 your preference, my Saxon is not so ambiguous or redundant 
 as to leave any margin for misconception of my meaning." 
 
 " My dear Salome, I fear your decision has been influenced 
 by the consciousness that my poor, petted Constance has oc- 
 casionally neglected the courtesies which you had a right to 
 claim from the sister of the man who seeks to make you his 
 wife." 
 
 " No, sir ; your sister's sneers, and the petty slights and per- 
 secutions for which I am indebted to her friend, Miss Suther- 
 land, have not sufficient importance to affect me in any degree. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 393 
 
 My decision is based upon the unfortunate fact that I do not 
 love you." 
 
 " No woman can withstand such devotion as I bring you, 
 and time would soon soften and deepen your feelings." 
 
 " Sir, you unduly flatter yourself. Neither time nor 
 eternity would change me, and you would do well to remember 
 that it is my voice, sir, — ^not my hand and heart, — that I offer 
 for sale." 
 
 "Your stubborn rejection is explicable only by the sup- 
 position that you have deceived me, — that you have already 
 bartered away the heart I long to call my own." 
 
 "I am a miller's child, — ^you a millionaire, but permit 
 me to remind you that I allow no imputation on my veracity. 
 Why should I condescend to deceive you ? " 
 
 She petulantly snatched her scarf from the fingers that still 
 stroked it caressingly; but an instant later a singular change 
 swept over her countenance, and pressing her hands to her 
 heart, she said in a proud, almost exultant tone, — 
 
 " Although I deny your right to question me upon this sub- 
 ject, you are thoroughly welcome to know that I love one man 
 so entirely, so deathlessly, that the bare thought of marrying 
 any one else sickens my soul." 
 
 Mr. Minge turned pale, and grasped the carved balustrade 
 against which he rested. 
 
 "0 Salome! you have trifled." 
 
 " No, sir. Take that back. I never stoop to trifling ; and 
 the curse of my life has been my almost fatal earnestness of 
 purpose. If I ever deliberated one moment concerning the 
 expediency of clothing myself first with your aristocratic- 
 name, afterwards with satin, velvet, and diamonds, — if I ever 
 silenced the outcry of my heart long enough to ask myself 
 whether gilded misery was not the least torturing type of the 
 epidemic wretchedness, — at least I kept my parley with Mam- 
 mon to myself ; and if you obstinately cherished hopes of final 
 success, they sprang from your vanity, not my dissimulation. 
 Mark you, I here set up no claim to sanctity, — for indeed my 
 sins are 'thick as leaves in Vallombrosa ' ; but my pedigree 
 does not happen to link me with Sapphira, and deceit is not 
 
394 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 charged to me in the real Doomsday Book. Theft would be 
 more possible for me than falsehood, for while both are labelled 
 * wicked,' I could never dwarf and shrivel my soul by the 
 cowardly process of mendacity. Mr. Minge, had I been a trifle 
 less honest and true than I find myself, I might have im- 
 paired my self-respect by trifling." 
 
 " Forgive me, Salome, if the pain I endure rendered me 
 harsh or unjust. My dearest, I did not intend to wound you, 
 but indeed you are cruel sometimes." 
 
 " Yes ; truth is the most savagely cruel of all rude, jagged 
 weapons, and leaves ugly gashes and quivering nerves exposed, 
 and these are the hurts that never cicatrize — ^that gape and 
 bleed while the heart throbs to feed them." 
 
 " Tell me candidly whether the heart I covet belongs to 
 that Mr. Granville, who paid you such devoted attention in 
 Paris." 
 
 A short, scornful, mirthless laugh rang sharply on the air, 
 and turning quickly, Salome exclaimed contemptuously,*— 
 
 " I said I loved a man, — a true, honest, brave, noble man, — 
 not that perfumed, unprincipled, vain, foppish automaton, 
 who adorns a corner of the diplomatic apartment where at- 
 taches of the American embassy 'most do congregate'! 
 Grerard Granville is unworthy of any woman's affection, for 
 maugre the indisputable fact that he. is betrothed to a fond, 
 trusting girl, now in the United States, he had the effrontery 
 to attempt to offer his addresses to me. If an honest man be 
 the noblest work of God, then, beyond all peradventure, the 
 disgrace of creation is centred in an unscrupulous one, such 
 as I have the honor to pronounce Mr. Granville." 
 
 Seizing her hands, Mr. Minge carried them forcibly to his 
 lips, and said, in a voice that faltered from intensity of feel- 
 ing,— 
 
 " Is it the hope that your love is reciprocated which bars 
 your heart so sternly against my pleadings? Sp^re me no 
 pangs, — ^tell me all." 
 
 She freed her fingers from his grasp, and retreating a few 
 steps, answered with a passionate mournfulness which he 
 never forgot, — 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 395 
 
 " If I were dowered with that precious hope, not all the 
 crown jewels in Christendom and Heathendom could pur- 
 chase it. Not the proudest throne on that continent of em- 
 pires that lies yonder to the north, could woo me one hour 
 from the only kingdom where I could happily reign, — the 
 heart of the man I love. No — no — no ! That hope is as dis- 
 tant as the first star up there above us, which has rent the blue 
 veil of heaven to gaze pityingly at me; and I would as 
 soon expect to catch that silver sparkle and fold it in my 
 arms as dream that my affection could ever be returned. The 
 only man I shall ever love could not bend his noble, regal 
 nature to the level of mine, and towers beyond me, a pin- 
 nacle of unapproachable purity and perfection. Ah, indeed, 
 he is one of those concerning whom it has been grandly said : 
 ' The truly great stand upright as columns of the temple , 
 whose dome covers all, — against whose pillared sides multi- 
 tudes lean, at whose base they kneel in times of trouble.' Mr, 
 Minge, it is despair that crouches at my heart, not hope that 
 shuts its portals against your earnest petition; for a barrier 
 wider, deeper than a hundred oceans divides me from my idol, 
 who loves, and ere this, is the husband of another." 
 
 She did not observe the glow that once more mantled his 
 cheek, and fired his eyes, until he exclaimed with unusual 
 fervor, — 
 
 " 3^hank God ! That fact is freighted with priceless com- 
 fort." 
 
 Compassion and contempt seemed struggling for mastery, 
 as she waved him from her, and answered, impatiently, — 
 
 " Think you that any other need hope to usurp my 
 monarch's place, — that one inferior dare expect to wield his 
 sceptre over my heart? Pardon me, — 
 
 ' If there were not an eagle in the realm of birds, 
 Must then the owl be king among the feathered herds?" 
 
 Some day a gentler spirit than mine will fill your home with 
 music, and your heart with peace and sunshine ; and, in that 
 hour, thank honest Salome Owen for the blessings you owe to 
 her candor, I must bid you good-night." 
 
396 UNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 She drew the scarf closer about her head and throat, and 
 turned to leave the terrace. 
 
 " Will you not allow me to drive you to-morrow afternoon 
 on the Marino? Do not refuse me this innocent and inex- 
 pressibly valued privilege. I will not be denied! Good- 
 night, my — Heaven shield you, my worshipped one! Hush! 
 — I will hear no refusal." 
 
 He stooped, kissed the folds of the scarf that covered her 
 head, and hurried down the steps of the terrace. 
 
 The glory of a Sicilian sunset bathed the face and figure 
 that stood a moment under the lemon-boughs, watching the 
 retreating form which soon disappeared behind clustering 
 pomegranate, olive, and palm; and a tender compassion 
 looked out of the large hazel eyes, and sat on the sad Jips that 
 murmured, — 
 
 " God help you, Merton Minge, to strangle the viper that 
 coils in your heart, and gnaws its core. My own is a ser- 
 pent's lair, and I pity the pangs that rend yours also. But 
 after a little while, your viper will find a file, — mine, alas! 
 not until death arrests the slow torture. To-morrow after- 
 noon I shall be — where? Only God knows." 
 
 She shivered slightly, and raised her beautiful eyes to- 
 wards the west, where golden gleams and violet shadows were 
 battling for possession of a reef of cloud islets, which dotted 
 the azure upper sea of air, and were reflected in the watery 
 one beneath. 
 
 "Courage! courage! 
 
 ' Those who have nothing left to hope, 
 Have nothing left to dread.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 "Muriel, where can I find Miss Dexter?" 
 " She went out on the lawn an hour ago, to regale herself 
 with what she calls, 'atmospheric hippoerene,' and I have 
 not heard her come in, though she may have gone to her 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 397 
 
 room. Pray tell me, doctor, why you wish to see my govern- 
 ess ? — to inquire concerning my numerous peccadilloes ? " 
 
 " Muriel adroitly folded her embroidered silk apron over a 
 package of letters that lay in her lap, and affected an air of 
 gayety at variance with her dim eyes and wet lashes. 
 
 " I shall believe that conscience accuses yeu of many juve- 
 nile improprieties, since you so suspiciously attack my motives 
 and intentions. Indeed, little one, you flatter yourself un- 
 duly, in imagining that my interview with Miss Dexter neces- 
 sarily involves the discusson of her pupil. I merely wish 
 to enlist her sympathy in behalf of one of my patients. 
 Muriel, I would have been much more gratified if I had found 
 you walking with her, instead of moping here alone." 
 
 " I am not moping." 
 
 The girl bit her full red lip, and strove to force back the 
 rapidly gathering tears. 
 
 " At least you are not cheerful, and it pains me to see tliet 
 anxious, dissatisfied expression on a face that should reflect 
 only sunshine. What disturbs you? — the scarcity of Gerard's 
 letters?" 
 
 Dr. Grey sat down beside his ward, and throwing her arms 
 around his neck, she burst into a passionate flood of tears. 
 The sudden movement uncovered the letters, t/feich slipped 
 down and strewed the carpet. 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! I am very miserable ! " 
 
 "Why, my dear child?" 
 
 " Because Gerard does not love me as formerly/' 
 
 "What reason have you for doubting hid affection?'* 
 
 " He scarcely writes to me once a month, and then his let- 
 ters are short and cold as icicles, and full of court gossip and 
 fashion items, for which he knows I do not carci a straw. 
 Yesterday I received one, — the flrst I have had for three 
 weeks, — and he requests me to defer our marriage at least six 
 months longer, as he cannot possibly come over in May, the 
 time appointed when he was here." 
 
 She hid her face on her guardian's shouUter, and sobbed. 
 
 An expression of painful surprise and gtsrn displeasure 
 
398 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 clouded Dr. Grey's eountenance, as he smoothed the hail 
 away from the girl's throbbing temples. 
 
 " Calm yourself, Muriel. If Gerard has forfeited your con- 
 fidence, he is unworthy of your tears. Do you apprehend that 
 his indifference is merely the result of separation, or have you 
 any cause to attribute it to interest in some other person?" 
 
 " That is a question I cannot answer." 
 
 " Cannot, or will not ? " 
 
 " I know nothing positively ; but I fear something, which 
 perhaps I ought not to mention." 
 
 " Throw aside all hesitancy, and talk freely to me. If 
 Granville is either fickle or dishonorable, you should rejoice 
 that the discovery has been made in time to save you from 
 life-long wretchedness." 
 
 " If we were only married, I am sure I could win him back^ 
 to me." 
 
 " That is a fatal fallacy, that has wrecked the happiness of 
 many women. If a lover grows indifferent, as a husband he 
 will be cold, unkind, unendurable. If as a devoted fiancee 
 you can not retain and strengthen his affection, — as a wife 
 you would weary and repel him. Have you answered the last 
 letter?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " My dear child, do you not consider me your best friend ? " 
 
 « Certainly I do." 
 
 " Then yield to my guidance, and follow my advice. Lose 
 no time in writing to Mr. Granville, and cancel your engage- 
 ment. Tell him he is free." 
 
 " Oh, then I should lose him, — and happiness, forever ! " 
 wailed Muriel, clasping her hands almost despairingly. 
 
 ^' You have already lost his heart, and should be unwilling 
 to retain him in fetters that must be galling." 
 
 " Ah, Dr. Grey ! it is very easy for you who never loved any 
 one, to tell me, in that cold, business-like way, that I ought to 
 set Gerard free; but you cannot realize what it costs to follow 
 your counsel. Of course I know that in everything else you 
 are much wiser than I, but persons who have no love affairs of 
 their own are not the best judges of other people's. He is so 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 399 
 
 dear to me, I believe it would kill me to give him up, and 
 see him no more." 
 
 " On the contrary, you would survive much greater misfor- 
 tune than separation from a man who is unworthy of you. I 
 cannot coerce, but simply counsel you in this matter, and 
 should be glad to learn what your own decision is. Do you 
 intend to wait until Gerard Granville explicitly requests you 
 to release him from his engagement ? " 
 
 She winced, and the tears gushed anew. 
 
 " Oh, you are cruel ! You are heartless ! " 
 
 "'No, my dear Muriel; I am actuated by the truest affec- 
 tion for my little ward, and desire to snatch her from future 
 humiliation. My knowledge of human nature is more ex- 
 tended, more profound than yours, but since you seem unwill- 
 ing to avail yourself of my experience, it only remains for 
 you to acquaint me with your determination. Are you will- 
 ing to tell me the nature of your answer ? " 
 
 "I intend to accede to Gerard's wish, and will defer the 
 marriage until November; but in the meantime, I shall en- 
 deavor to win back his heartj which I believe has been art- 
 fully enticed from me." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 She made no reply, and lifting her head from his shoulder, 
 Dr. Grey looked keenly into her face, and repeated his ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "Do not urge me to express suspicions that may possibly 
 be unjust." 
 
 " That are entirely unjust, you may rest assured," said he, 
 almost vehemently. 
 
 " By what means did you so positively ascertain that fact ? " 
 
 " The result will prove. Now, my dear child, you must ac- 
 quit me of heartlessness and cruelty when I tell you, that, 
 under existing circumstances, I cannot and will not consent 
 to the solemnization of your marriage until you are of age^ 
 Once the conviction that an earlier consummation of your 
 engagement was essential to the happiness of both parties, 
 overruled the dictates of my judgment, and induced me to ac- 
 quiesce in your wishes; but subsequent events have illus- 
 
400 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 trated the wisdom of my former opposition, and now I am re- 
 solved that no argument or persuasion shall prevail upon me 
 to sanction or permit your marriage until you are twenty- 
 one." 
 
 With a sharp cry of chagrin and amazement, Muriel sprang 
 to her feet. 
 
 " You surely do not mean to keep me in this torture, for 
 nearly three years ? I will not submit to such tyranny, even 
 from Dr. Grey." 
 
 " As a faithful guardian, I can see no alternative, and fear 
 of incurring your displeasure shall not deter me from the per- 
 formance of a stern duty to the child of my best and dearest 
 friend. I must and will do what your father certainly would^ 
 were he alive. My dear Muriel, control yourself, and do not, 
 by harsh epithets and unjust accusations, wound the heart 
 that sincerely loves you. To-day, as your guardian, I hearken 
 to the imperative dictates of my conscience, and turn a deaf 
 ear to the pleadings of my tender affection, which would 
 save you from even momentary sorrow and disappointment. 
 Since my decision is irrevocable, do not render the execution 
 of my purpose more painful than necessity demands." 
 
 Seizing his hand, Muriel pressed it against her flushed 
 cheek, and pleaded falteringly, — 
 
 " Do not doom your poor little Muriel to such misery. Oh, 
 Dr. Grey! dear Dr. Grey, remember you promised my dying 
 father to take his place, — and he would never inflict such 
 suffering on his child. You have forgotten your promise ! " 
 
 " No, dear child. It is because I hold it so sacred that I 
 cannot yield to your entreaties; and I must faithfully ad- 
 here to my obligations, even though I forfeit your affection. 
 I shall write to Mr. Granville by the next mail, and it is my 
 wish that henceforth the subject should not be referred to. 
 Cheer up, my child; three years will soon glide away, and at 
 the expiration of that time you will thank me for the firmness 
 which you now denounce as cruelty. Good-morning. Be sure 
 tO'think kindly of your guardian, whose heart is quite as sad 
 as your own." 
 
 She struggled and resisted, but he kissed her lightly on 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 401 
 
 the forehead, and as he left the room heard her bitter in- 
 vectives against his tyranny and hard-heartedness. 
 
 Crossing the elm-studded lawn, he approached a secluded 
 ■walk, bordered with lilacs and myrtle, and saw the figure of 
 the governess pacing to and fro. 
 
 During the four months that had elapsed since his last 
 visit to " Solitude," he scrutinized and studied her character 
 more closely than formerly, and the investigation only height- 
 ened and intensified his esteem. 
 
 No hint of her history had ever passed the calm, patient 
 lips, which had forgotten how to laugh, and now, as he 
 watched her pale, melancholy face, which bore traces of extra- 
 , ordinary beauty, he exonerated her from all blame in the 
 ruinous deception that had blasted more lives than one; and 
 honored the silent heroism which so securely locked her dis- 
 appointment in her own heart. He knew that consumption 
 was the hereditary scourge of her family, that she bore in her 
 constitution the seeds of slowly but surely developing disease, 
 and did not marvel at the quiet indifference with which she 
 treated symptoms which he had several times pointed out as 
 serious and dangerous. 
 
 To-day her manner was excited, and her step betrayed very 
 unusual impatience. 
 
 " Miss Dexter, from the frequency of your cough I am 
 afraid you are imprudent in selecting this walk, which is so 
 densely shaded that the sun does not reach it until nearly 
 noon. Are not your feet damp ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; my shoes are thick, and thoroughly protect 
 them." 
 
 She paused before him, and, in her soft, brown eyes, he saw 
 a strange, unwonted restlessness, — an eager expectancy that 
 surprised and disturbed him. 
 
 " Are you at leisure this morning ? " 
 
 " Do you need my services immediately? " 
 
 She answered evasively; and he noticed that she glanced 
 anxiously toward the road leading into town. 
 
 " You will greatly oblige me, if some time during the day, 
 you will be so good as to superintend the preparation of some 
 26 
 
402 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 ealves'-feet jelly, for one of my poor patients. I would not 
 trouble you, but Rachel is quite sick, and the new cook does 
 not understand the process. May I depend upon you ? " 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; it will afford me pleasure to prepare the 
 jelly." 
 
 Looking more closely at her face, he saw undeniable traces 
 of recent tears, and drew her arm through his. 
 
 " I hope you will not deem me impertinently curious if I 
 beg you to honor me with your confidence, and explain the 
 anxiety which is evidently preying upon your mind." 
 
 Embarrassment flushed her transparent cheek, and her shy 
 eyes glanced' up uneasily. 
 
 " At least, Miss Dexter, permit me to ask whether Muriel 
 is connected with the cause of your disquiet?" 
 
 " My pupil is, I fear, very unhappy ; but she withholds 
 much from me since she learned my disapproval of her ap- 
 proaching marriage." 
 
 "Will you acquaint me with your objections to Mr. Gran- 
 ville?" 
 
 Against Mr. Granville, the gentleman, I have nothing to 
 urge ; but I could not consent to see Muriel wed a man, who, 
 I am convinced, has no affection for her." 
 
 " Have you told her this ? " 
 
 "Repeatedly; and, of course, my frankness has offended 
 and alienated her. Oh, Dr. Grey! the child totters on the 
 brink of a flower-veiled precipice, and will heed no warning. 
 Perhaps I should libel Mr. Granville were I to- impute mer- 
 cenary motives to him, — perhaps he fancied he loved Muriel 
 when he addressed her, — I hope so, for the honor of manhood ; 
 but the glamour was brief, and certainly he must be aware 
 that he has not proper affection for her now." 
 
 " And yet, she is very lovable and winning." 
 
 "Yes, — to you and to me; but her good qualities are not 
 those which gentlemen find most attractive. What is Chris- 
 tian purity and noble generosity of soul, in comparison with 
 physical perfection? Muriel often reminds me of one whom 
 I loved devotedly, whose unselfish and unsuspicious nature 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 403 
 
 wrought the ruin of her happiness ; and from her miserable 
 fate I would fain save my pupil." 
 
 He knew from the tremor of her lips and hands, and the 
 momentary contraction of her fail/ brow, to whom she alluded; 
 and both sighed audibly. 
 
 " My convictions coincide so entirely with yours, that I 
 have had an interview with my ward, and withdrawn my 
 consent to her marriage until she is of age." 
 
 " Thank God ! In the interim she may grow wiser, or 
 some fortuitous occurence may avert the danger we dread." 
 
 In the brief silence that ensued, the governess seemed 
 debating the expediency of making some revelation; and, 
 encountering one of her perplexed and scrutinizing glances^ 
 the doctor smiled and said, gravely, — 
 
 " I believe I understand your hesitancy ; but I assure you I 
 should never forfeit any trust you might repose in me. You 
 have some cause of serious annoyance, entirely irrespective 
 of my ward, and I may be instrumental in "removing it." 
 
 "Thank you, Dr. Grey. For some days I have been can- 
 vassing the propriety of asking your advice and assistance; 
 and my reluctance arose not from want of confidence in you, 
 but from dread of the pain it would necessarily inflict upon 
 me, to recur to events long buried. It is not essential, how- 
 ever, .that I should weary you with the minutiae of circum- 
 stances which many years ago smothered the sunshine in my 
 life, and left me in darkness, a lonely and joyless woman. I 
 have resided here long enough to learn the noble generosity 
 of your character, and to you, as a true Christian gentleman, 
 1 come for aid, — premising only that, what I am about to say 
 is strictly confidential." 
 
 " As such, I shall ever regard it ; but if I am to become 
 your coajutor in any matter, let me request that nothing be 
 kept secret, for only entire frankness should exist between 
 those who have a common aim." 
 
 A painful flush tinged her cheek, and the fair, thin face, 
 grew indescribably mournful, as she clasped her hands firmly 
 over his arm. 
 
 " Dr, Grey, when unscrupulous men or women deliberately 
 
404 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 stab the happiness of a fellow-creature, they have no wounded 
 sensibilities, no haunting compunction, — and if remorse finally 
 overtakes, it finds them well-nigh callous and indurated; 
 but woe to that innocent being who is the unintentional and 
 unconscious agent for the ruin of those she loves. I can- 
 not remember the time when I did not love the only man for 
 whom I ever entertained any affection. He was the playmate 
 of my earliest years, — the betrothed of my young maiden- 
 hood, — and just before my poor father died, he joined our 
 hands and left his blessing on my choice. Poverty was the 
 only barrier to our union, but I took a situation as teacher, 
 and hoarded my small gains in the hope of aiding my lover, 
 who went abroad with a wealthy uncle, and completed his 
 education in Germany. I knew that Maurice had contracted 
 very extravagant and self-indulgent habits, — ^but in the court 
 of love is there any ' high crime ' or misdemeanor for which 
 a woman's heart will condemn her idol ? Nay, nay ; she will 
 plead his defence* against the stern evidence of her own in-^ 
 corruptible reason; and, if need be, share his punishment^ — 
 die in his stead. I denied myself every luxury, and jealously 
 husbanded my small salary, anticipating the happy hour 
 when we might invest it in furniture for our little home; 
 and, indeed, in those blessed days of hope, it seemed no 
 hardship, — 
 
 ' And J07 was duty, and love was law.' 
 
 Prom tittle to time our marriage was deferred, but I well 
 knew I was beloved, and so I waited patiently, until fortune 
 should smile upon me. In the interim I became warmly 
 attached to a young girl in the school where I taught, and 
 •whose affection for me was enthusiastic and ardent. Evelyn 
 was an orphan, and the heiress of enormous wealth, which 
 she seemed resolved to share with me; and, more than once, 
 I was tempted to acquaint her with the obstacle that de- 
 barred me from happiness. Ah ! if I had only confided in her, 
 and trusted her faithful love, how much wretchedness would, 
 have been averted! But she appeared to me such an im- 
 pulsive child that I shrank from unburdening my heart to 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO FAST. 405 
 
 her, while she acquainted me with every thought and aim of 
 her pure, guileless life. She was singularly, almost idol- 
 atrously fond of me, and I loved her very sincerely, for her 
 character was certainly the most admirable I have ever met. 
 
 " At vacation we parted for three months, and I hurried 
 to meet my lover, who had promised to join me in Vermont, 
 where my mother had gone to recruit her failing health. For 
 the first time Maurice proved recreant, and wrote that im- 
 perative business detained him in New York. Did T doubt 
 him, even then ? Not in the least ; but endeavored by cheer- 
 ful letters to show him how patiently I could bear the separa- 
 tion that might result in pecuniary advantage to Jiim. My 
 mother looked anxious, and foreboded ill; but I laughed at 
 her misgivings, and proudly silenced her warning voice. In 
 the midst of my blissful dream came a lengthy telegraphic 
 dispatch from my young girl-friend Evelyn, inviting me to 
 hasten to New York, and accompany her on a bridal tour 
 through Europe. In a brief and almost incoherent note, 
 subsequently received, she accidentally omitted the name of 
 her future husband, and designated him as ' my prince,' ' my 
 king,' 'my liege lover.' The same mail brought me a long 
 and exceedingly tender letter from my own betrothed, in- 
 forming me that at the expiration of ten days he would 
 certainly be wi^h me to arrange for an immediate consum- 
 mation of our engagement. A railroad accident delayed me 
 twenty-four hours, and I did not reach New York until the 
 morning of the day on which my friend was married. The 
 ceremony took place at ten o'clock, and when I arrived, 
 Evelyn was already in the hands of the hair-dresser. I was 
 hurried into the room prepared for me, and while waiting 
 for my trunk, noticed a basket containing some of the 
 wedding cards. I picked up one, and you can perhaps imagine 
 my emotions, when I saw that my own lover was the betrothed 
 of my" friend. Dr. Grey, eight miserable years have gone 
 wearily over my head since then, but now, in the dead of night, 
 if I shut my eyes, I see staring at me, like the rayless, glazed 
 orbs of the dead, that silver-edged wedding card, bearing 
 in silver letters — Maurice Carlyle, Evelyn Fiewellyn. Oh, 
 
4:06 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 blacker than ten thousand death-warrants ! for all the hopes 
 of a lifetime went down before it. Every ray of earthly 
 light was extinguished in a night of woe that can have no 
 dawn, until the day-star of eternity shimmers on its gloom." 
 
 She shuddered convulsively, iand the agonized expression of 
 her face was so painful to behold that her companion averted 
 his head. 
 
 I was alone with my misery, and so overwhelming was the 
 shock that I fainted. When the hair-dresser came to offer 
 her services, she found me lying insensible on the carpet. 
 How bitterly, how unavailingly, have I reproached myself 
 for my failure to hasten to Evelyn, even then, and divulge 
 all. But with returning consciousness came womanly pride, 
 and I resolved to hide the anguish for which I knew there 
 was no cure. As soon as I was dressed, we were summoned 
 down stairs to meet the remainder of the bridal party, and 
 there I saw the man whom I expected to call my husband 
 talking gayly with his attendants. 
 
 " Evelyn impetuously presented me as her ' dearest friend,' 
 and, without raising his eyes, he bowed profoundly and turned 
 away. How I endured all I was called to witness that morn- 
 ing, I know not; but my strength seemed' superhuman. 
 The ceremony was performed in church, and after our 
 return to the house, Mr. Carlyle asserted and claimed the 
 right to kiss the bridesmaids. There were four, and I was 
 the last whom he approached. I was standing in the shadow 
 of the window-curtain, -which I had clutched for support, 
 and, as he came close to me, our eyes met for the first 
 iime that day, and I can never, never forget the pleading 
 mournfulness, the passionate tenderness, the despair, that 
 *lled his. I waved him from me, but he seized my hand, 
 and pressed his hot lips lingeringly to mine. Then he whis- 
 pered, ' My only love, my own Edith, do not judge till you 
 hear your wretched Maurice. Meet me in the hot-house when 
 Evelyn goes to change her dress, and I will explain this 
 awful, this a6cursed necessity.' A few moments later he 
 stood with his bride at the head of the table in the breakfast- 
 room, while I was placed close to Evelyn, and the mirror 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 407 
 
 opposite reflected the group. I know now it was sinful, but, 
 oh! how could I help it? As I looked at the reflection in 
 the glass, and compared my face with that of the bride, I 
 felt my poor wicked heart throb with triumph at the thought 
 that my superior beauty could not soon be forgotten, — that, 
 though her husband, he was still my lover. Dr. Grey, do 
 not despise me for my weakness, as I should have despised 
 him for his perfidy; and remember that a woman eaiinut 
 in a moment, renounce allegiance to a man who is the one 
 love of her life. They forced me to drink some wine that 
 fired my brain and made me reckless, and an hour after, 
 when Maurice came up and offered his arm, inviting me to 
 promenade for a few minutes in the hot-house, I yielded and 
 accompanied him. He told me a tale of dishonorable financial 
 transactions, into which he had been betrayed solely by the 
 hope of obtaining money that would enable him to hasten 
 our union ; but the utter failure of the scheme threatened him 
 with disgrace, possibly with imprisonment, and the only mode 
 of preserving his name from infamy, was to possess himself 
 of Evelyn's large fortune. Just as he clasped me in his arms, 
 and vehemently declared his deathless affection for me, — 
 his contempt and hatred of his poor childish bride, — I heard 
 a strange sound that was neither a wail nor a laugh, a sound 
 unlike any other that ever smote my ears, and looking up, 
 I saw Evelyn standing before us." 
 
 Miss Dexter groaned aloud, and covered her eyes with her 
 hand. 
 
 " Oh, my God ! help" me to shut out that horrible vision ! If 
 I could forget that distorted, deathlike face, with livid lips 
 writhing away from the gleaming teeth, and desperate, wide 
 eyes, glaring like globes of flame ! She looked twenty year* 
 older, and from her clenched hands,— her beautiful,, exquisite 
 hands, — that were wont to caress me so tenderly, the blood 
 was dripping down on her lace veil and her white velyefe 
 bridal dress. How much she heard I know not, for I neyee 
 saw her again. I swooned in Maurice's arms, and was car- 
 ried to my own room; and when I finally groped my way to 
 Evelyn's apartment, they told me she had been gone two 
 
408 JNTIL D/SATH US DO PART. 
 
 hours, — ^had sailed for Europe, leaving her husband in TSem 
 York. What passed in her farewell interview with him none 
 but he and her lawyer knew; but they separated there on 
 condition that his debts were cancelled. She went abroad 
 with a faithful old Scotch woman who had been her nurse, 
 and her husband told the world she was a maniac." 
 
 " Did he tell you so ? Did you believe it ? " exclaimed Dr. 
 Grey, with a degree of vehemence that startled the governess. 
 
 " I have never seen Maurice Carlyle since that awful hour 
 in the hot-house. He came repeatedly to my home, but I 
 refused to meet him, and dozens of his letters have been re- 
 turned unopened. Once, while I was absent, he obtained an 
 interview with my mother, and besought her intercession in 
 his behalf, pleading for my pardon, and assuring her that, 
 as his wife was hopelessly insane, he would apply for a di- 
 vorce, and then claim the hand of the only woman he had 
 ever loved. I dreaded the effect upon Evelyn, and had no 
 means of ascertaining her real condition. Soon after, I 
 lost my mother, whose death was hastened by grief and hu- 
 miliation; and, when I had laid her down beside my father, 
 I went in search of Evelyn. Several times I had attempted 
 to communicate with her, and with Elsie, the nurse, but my 
 letters always came back unopened, and bearing the London 
 stamp. Having: been informed that she was in an insane 
 asylum in England, I took the money that had been so 
 carefully hoarded for a different purpose and went to Lon- 
 don. One by one, I searched all the asylums in the United 
 Kingdom, and finding no trace of her, came back to America. 
 Finally, on the death-bed of Mr. Clayton, her lawyer, who 
 understood my great anxiety to discover her, I was told 
 in strict confidence that she was perfectly sane, — had never 
 been other-wise, — but preferred that the false report in circu- 
 lation should not be corrected, since her husband had set it 
 iiiteotion. I learned that she was well and pleasantly located 
 SOTnewhere in the East, but would never see the faces of 
 either friends or foes, and absolutely refused all intercourse 
 with her race. From one of her letters (which, a moment 
 after, he burned in the grate) Mr. Clayton read me a para* 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 109 
 
 graph: 'The greatest mercy you can show me is to allow 
 me to forget. Henceforth mention no more the names of any 
 I ever knew; and let silence, like a pall, shroud all the past 
 of Vashti.' He died next day, and since then — " 
 
 The sad, sweet voice, which for some moments had been 
 growing more and more unsteady, here sank into a sob, and 
 the governess wept freely, while her whole frame shook with 
 the violence of longpent anguish, that now defied control. 
 
 " Oh, if I could find her ! If I could go to her and tell 
 her all, and exonerate myself ! If I could show her that he 
 was mine always, — mine long before she ever saw him, — then 
 she would not think so harshly of me. I know not what expla- 
 nation Maurice gave her, nor how much of our conversation 
 she overheard; and I cannot live contentedly, — oh! I can- 
 not die in peace till I see my poor crushed darling, and hear 
 from her lips the assurance that she does not hold me re- 
 sponsible for her wretchedness. Dr. Grey, I love her with 
 a pitying tenderness that transcends all power of expression. 
 Perhaps if Maurice had ever loved her, I could not feel as 
 I do towards Her; for a woman's nature tolerates no rival 
 in the affection of her lover, and, unprincipled as mine proved 
 in other respects, I know that his heart was always unswerv- 
 ingly my own. My dear, noble Evelyn! My pure, loving 
 little darling ! Ah ! I have wearied heaven with prayers that 
 God would give her back to my arms." 
 
 Unable to conceal the emotion he was unwilling she should 
 witness, Dr. Grey disengaged his arm and walked away, striv- 
 ing to regain his usual composure. 
 
 Did the governess suspect the proximity of her long-lost 
 friend? If she claimed his assistance in prosecuting her 
 search, what course would duty dictate ? 
 
 Retracing his steps, he found that she had seated herself 
 on a bench near one of the tallest lilacs, and having thrown 
 aside her quilted hood of scarlet silk, her care-worn counte- 
 nance was fully exposed. 
 
 She was gazing very intently at some object in her hand, 
 which she bent over and kissed several times, and did not 
 perceive his approach until he stood beside her. 
 
410 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 " Dr. Grey, I believe my prayer has been heard, and that at 
 last I have discovered a clew to the retreat of my lost 
 Evelyn; Last week I went to a jewelry store in town, to 
 buy a locket which I intended as a birthday gift for Muriel. 
 Several customers had preceded me, and while waiting, my 
 attention was attracted towards one of the workmen who 
 uttered an impatient ejaculation and dashed down some arti- 
 ele upon which he was at work. As it fell, I saw that it was 
 an oval ivory miniature, originaly surrounded with very large 
 handsome pearls, the greater portion of which the jeweller 
 had removed and placed in a small glass bowl that stood near 
 him. I leaned down to examine the miniature, and though 
 the:paint was blurred and faded, it was impossible to mistake 
 the likeness, and you cannot realize the thrill that ran along 
 my nerves as I recognized the portrait of Evelyn. So great 
 was my astonishment and delight that I must have cried 
 out, for the people in the store all turned and stared at me, 
 and when I snatched the piece of ivory from the work-table, 
 the man looked at me in amazement. Very incoherently I 
 demanded where and how he obtained it, and, beckoning to the 
 proprietor, he said, ' Just as I told you ; this has turned out 
 stolen property.' Then he opened a drawer and took from 
 it a similar oval slab of ivory, and when I looked at it and 
 saw Maurice's handsome face, my brain reeled, and I grew 
 so dizzy I almost fell. 'Madam, do you know these por- 
 traits?' asked the proprietor. 
 
 " I told him that I did, — that I had seen these jewelled 
 miniatures eight years before on the dressing-table of a bride, 
 and I implored him to tell me how they came into his 
 possession. He fitted them into a dingy, worn case, which 
 seemed to have been composed of purple velvet, and informed 
 me that, he purchased the whole from an Irish lad, who as- 
 serted that he picked it up on the beach, where it had evidently 
 drifted in a high tide. On examination, he found that the 
 case had indeed been saturated with sea-water, but the pearls 
 were in such a remarkable state of preservation that he 
 doubted the lad's statement. He had bought the miniatures 
 in ordier to secure the pearls, which he assured me were un- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 4,11 
 
 usually fine, and to satisfy himself concerning the affair had 
 advertised two ivory miniatures, and invited- the owners to 
 come forward and prove property. After the expiration 
 of a week, he discontinued the notice, and finally ordered the 
 pearls removed from their gold frames. When I had given 
 him the names of the originals, he consented that I should 
 take the portraits wliich were now worthless to him, and 
 gave me also the name of the boy. It was not until two 
 days afterward that I succeeded in finding Thomas Donovan, 
 a lad about fourteen years old, whose mother Phcebe is a 
 laundress, and does up laces and fine muslins. When 1 
 called and stated the object of my visit he seemed much con- 
 fused, but sullenly repeated the assertion made to the jeweller. 
 Yesterday I went again and had a long conversation with 
 his mother, who must be an honest soul, for she assured me 
 she knew nothing of the matter, and would investigate it 
 immediately. The boy was absent, but she promised either 
 to send him here this morning or come in person, to acquaint 
 me with the result. I offered a reward if he would confess 
 where he obtained them ; and if he proved obstinate, threat- 
 ened to have him arrested. Now, Dr. Grey, you can under- 
 stand why I have so tediously made a full revelation of liiy 
 past, for I wish to enlist your sympathy and claim your aid 
 in my search for my long-lost friend. These portraits in- 
 adequately represent the fascinating beauty of one of the origi- 
 nals, and the sweetness and almost angelic purity of the 
 other." 
 
 She held up the somewhat defaced and faded miniature? 
 for the inspection of her companion, but scarcely glancing 
 at them, he said, abstractedly, — 
 
 " You are sure they belong to Mrs. Carlyle ? " 
 
 " Ye^ As she put on her diamonds just before going down 
 stairs she showed me the portraits in her jewelry casket, where 
 she had also placed a similar one of myself. Ah! at this 
 instant I seem to see her beaming face, as she bent down, 
 and sweeping her Veil aside, kissed my picture and Maurice's." 
 
 " Do you imagine that she is in America ? " 
 
 "No; I fear she is dead, and that these were stolen from 
 
412 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the old nurse. Who is that yonder ? Ah, yes, — Phoebe Dono- 
 van. Now I shall hear the truth." 
 
 Forgetting her shawl, and unmindful of the fact that the 
 eun was streaming full on her head and face, she hurried 
 to meet the woman who was ascending the avenue, and very 
 soon they entered the house. 
 
 A quarter of an hour elapsed ere Phcebe came out, and 
 walked rapidly away; and, unwilling to prolong his suspense, 
 Dr. Grey went in search of the governess. 
 
 He met her in the hall, and saw that she was equipped for 
 a walk. Her cheeks were scarlet, her brown eyes all aglow 
 with eager expectation, and her lips twitched, as she ex- 
 claimed, — 
 
 " Oh, doctor, I hope everything ; for I learn that the pic- 
 tures were found on the lawn at ' Solitude,' where Phoebe was 
 once hired as cook; and she recognized the case as the same 
 she had one day seen on a writing-desk in the parlor. The 
 boy confessed that he picked it up from the grass, and, after 
 taking out the contents, soaked the case in a bucket of salt- 
 water. Phoebe says the pictures belong to Mrs. Gerorae, the 
 gray-headed woman who owns that place on the beach, and 
 I am almost tempted to believe she is Elsie, who may have 
 married again. At all events, I shall soon know where she 
 obtained the portraits." 
 
 " You are not gong to * Solitude ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, immediately. I cannot rest till I have learned alL 
 God grant I may not be mocked in my hopes." 
 
 The unwonted excitement had kindled a strange beauty in 
 the whilom passive face, and Dr. Grey could for the first time 
 realize how lovely she must have been in the happy days of 
 eld. 
 
 "Miss Dexter, Mrs. Gerome will not. receive you. She 
 sees no visitors, not even ministers of the gospel." 
 
 " She must — she shall — admit me ; for I will assure her 
 that life and death hang upon it." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " If Evelyn is alive, and I can discover her retreat, I will 
 urge her to go to her husband, who needs her care. You 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 413 
 
 know Mrs. Gerome, — she is one of your patients. Come with 
 me, and prevail upon her to receive me." 
 
 In her eagerness she laid her hand on his arm, and even 
 then noticed and wondered at the crimson that suddenly 
 leaped into his olive face. 
 
 " Some day I will give you good reasons for refusing your 
 request, which it is impossible for me to grant. If you are 
 resolved to hazard the visit, I will take you in my buggy 
 as far as the gate at ' Solitude,' and when you return will 
 confer with you concerning the result. Just now, I can 
 promise no more." 
 
 An expression of disappointment clouded her brow. 
 
 " I had hoped that you would sympathize with and be 
 more interested in my great sorrow." 
 
 " Miss Dexter, my interest is more profound, more intense, 
 than you can imagine, but at this juncture circumstances 
 forbid its expression. My buggy is at the door." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Even at mid-day the grounds around " Solitude " were 
 sombre and chill, for across the sky the winds had woven a 
 thin, vapory veil, whose cloud-meshes seemed fine as lace- 
 work; and through this gilded netting the sun looked hazy, 
 the light wan and yellow, and rifled of its customary noon 
 glitter. 
 
 Following one of the serpentine walks, the governess was 
 approaching the house, when her attention was attractec? by 
 the gleaming surface of a tomb, and she turned towards the 
 pyramidal deodars that were swaying slowly in the breeze, — 
 
 " Warming their heads in the sun, 
 Clieckering the grass with their shade," 
 
 and photographing f ringy images on the shining marble. 
 
 A broad circle of violets, blue with bloom, surrounded a 
 sexangular temple, whose dome was terminated by a mural 
 crown and surmounted by a cross. The beautifully polished 
 
4:14 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 pillars were fluted, and wreathed with carved ivy that wound 
 up to the richly-sculptured cornices, where poppies clustered 
 and tossed their leaves along the architrave; and, in the 
 centre, visible through all the arches, rose an altar, bearing 
 two angels with fingers on their lips, who guarded an ex- 
 quisite urn that was inscribed " cor cordium." 
 
 Beneath the eastern arch, that directly fronted the sea, 
 were two steps leading into the mausoleum, and, as Miss 
 Dexter stood within, she saw that the floor was arranged 
 with slabs for only two tombs close to the altar, one side 
 of which bore in golden tracery, — 
 
 "Elsie Maclean, 68. Amicus Amicorum." 
 
 Around the base of the urn were scattered some fresh gera- 
 nium-leaves, and very near it stood a tall, slender, Venetian 
 glass vase filled with odorous flowers, which had evidently 
 been gathered and arranged that day. 
 
 For whom had the remaining slab and opposite side of the 
 altar been reserved? 
 
 The heart of the governess seemed for a moment to forget 
 its functions, then a vague hope made it throb fiercely; and 
 rapidly the anxious woman directed her steps towards the 
 house, that seemed as silent as the grave behind her. 
 
 The hall door had swung partially open, and, dreading that 
 she might be refused admittance if she rang the bell, she 
 availed herself of the lucky accident (which in Elsie's life- 
 time never happened), and entered unchallenged and unob- 
 served. 
 
 From the parlor issued a rather monotonous and suppressed 
 sound, as of some one reading aloud, and, advancing a few 
 stepSj the governess stood inside the threshold. 
 
 The curtains of the south window were looped back, the 
 blinds thrown open, and the sickly sunshine poured in, light- 
 ing the easel, before which the mistress of the house had 
 drawn an ottoman and seated hersdf. 
 
 To-day, an air of unwonted negligence marked her appear- 
 ance, usually distinguished by extraordinary care and taste. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 415 
 
 Her white merino role de chamhre was partially ungirded, 
 and the blue tassels trailed on the carpet ; her luxuriant hair 
 instead of being braided and classically coiled, was gathered 
 in three or four large heavy loops, and fastened rather loosely 
 by the massive silver comb that allowed one long tress to 
 straggle across her shoulder, while the folds in front slipped 
 low on her temples and forehead. 
 
 Intently contemplating her work, she leaned her cheek on 
 her hand, and only the profile was visible from the door, as 
 she repeated, in a subdued ione, — 
 
 " I stanch with ice m^, burning breast, 
 With silence balm >*iy whirling brain, 
 O Brandan ! to this hour of rest, 
 That Joppan leper's ease was pain." 
 
 The easel held the largest of many pictures, upon which she 
 had lavished time and study, and her present work was a wide 
 stretch of mid-ocean, lighted by innumerable stars, and a 
 round glittering polar moon that swung mid-heaven like 
 a globe of silver, and shed a ghostly lustre on the raging, 
 ragged waves, above which an Aurora Borealis lifted its 
 gleaming arch of mysterious white fires. 
 
 Oh the flowery shore of a tropic isle, under clustering 
 boughs of liine and citron, knelt the venerable figure of 
 Saint Brandan, — and upon a towering. Jagged iceberg, whose 
 crystal cliffs and diamond peaks glittered with the ghastly 
 radiance reflected from arctic moon and boreal flames, lay 
 Judas, pressing his hot palms and burning breast to the frigid 
 bosom of his sailing sapphire berg. 
 
 No hideous, scowling, red-haired arch-apostate waff this 
 painted Iscariot, — but a handsome man, whose features were 
 startlingly like those in the ivory miniature. 
 
 It was a wild, dreary, mournful picture, suggestive of 
 melancholy mediseval myths, and most abnormal phantasms ; 
 arid would more appropriately have draped the walls of some 
 flagellating ascetic's cell, than the luxuriously furnished room 
 that now contained it. 
 
 Bending forward to deepen the dark circles which suffering 
 
416 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and remorse had worn beneath the brilliant eyes of the 
 apostle, the lonely artist added another verse to her quo- 
 tation, — 
 
 "Once every year, when carols wake 
 
 On earth the Christmas night's repose. 
 Arising from the sinner's lake 
 I journey to these healing snows." 
 
 The motion loosened a delicate white lily pinned at her 
 throat, and it fell upon th& palette, sullying its purity with 
 the dark paint to which its petals clung. She removed it, 
 looked at its defaced loveliness, and tossed it aside, saying 
 moodily, — 
 
 " Typical of our souls, originally dowered with a stainless 
 and well-nigh perfect holiness, but drooping dust-ward con- 
 tinually, and once tainted by the fall, — Chugging the corrup- 
 tion that ruined it." 
 
 As the governess looked and listened, a half-perplexed, 
 half-frightened expression passed over her countenance, and 
 at length she advanced to the arch, and said, tremblingly, — 
 
 " Can I have a few moments' conversation with Mrs. 
 ■Gerome, on important business ? " 
 
 " My God ! am I verily mad at last ? Because I called up 
 Judas, must I also evoke the partner of his crime ? " 
 
 With a thrilling, almost blood-curdling cry Mrs. Gerome 
 had leaped to her feet at the sound of Miss Dexter's voice, 
 and, dropping palette and brush, confronted her with a look 
 of horror and hate. The quick and violent movement shook 
 out her comb, and down canie the folds of hair, falling like 
 a silver cataract to her knees. 
 
 Bewildered by memories which the face and form recalled, 
 the governess looked at the shining white locks, and her lips 
 blanched, as she stammered, — 
 
 " Are you Mrs. Gerome ? " 
 
 Her scarlet hood had fallen back, disclosing her wealth of 
 golden hair; and gazing at her thin but still lovely features, 
 rouged by a hectic glow that lent strange beauty to the 
 wide, brown eyes, Mrs. Gerome answered, huskily, — 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 417 
 
 " I am the mistress of this house. Who is the woman who 
 has the audacity to intrude upon my seclusion, and vividly re- 
 mind me of one whose hated lineaments have cursed my mem- 
 ory for years? Woman, if I believed she had the effrontery 
 to thrust herself into my presence, I should fear that at this 
 instant I am afl9icted with the abhorred sight of Edith Dex- 
 ter, than whom a legion of devils would be more welcome ! " 
 
 The name fell hissingly from her stern mouth, and when 
 she shook back the hair that drooped over her brow, the gray 
 globe-like eyes glittered as polished blue steel under some fit- 
 ful light. 
 
 A low, half-stifled cry escaped the governess, and spring- 
 ing forward she fell on her knees and grasped the white hands 
 that had clutched each other. 
 
 " Evelyn ! It must be Evelyn ! despite this gray hair and 
 wan, changed face ! and I could never mistake these beautiful, 
 beautiful hands — ^unlike any others in the world! Evelyn, 
 my lost darling ! oh, I thank God I have found you before I 
 die!" 
 
 She covered the cold fingers with kisses, and pressed her 
 face to a band of the floating hair; but with a gesture of 
 loathing Mrs. Gerome broke away, and retreated a few steps. 
 
 " How dare you come into my presence ? Goaded by a 
 desire to witness the ruin you helped to accomplish? Your 
 audacity at least astounds me; but fate decrees you the en- 
 joyment of its reward. Lo ! here I am ! Behold the gray 
 shadow of what was once a happy, confiding girl! Behold 
 in the desolate, lonely woman, who hides her disgrace under 
 the name of Agla Gerome, that bride of an hour, that Evelyn 
 whose heart you stabbed! Does the wreck entirely satisfy 
 you? What more could even fiendish malevolence desire?" 
 
 "HVelyn, you wrong me. For mercy's sake do not up- 
 braid and taunt me so unjustly ! " 
 
 In vain she held out her hands imploringly, while tears 
 rolled over her crimsoned cheeks, and sobs impeded her ut- 
 terance. Mrs. Gerome laughed bitterly. 
 
 " What ! I wrong you ? Have you gone mad, instead of 
 your victim? Miss Dezter, you and I can scarcely afford 
 27 
 
418 t^NTIL DEATH US DO PAMT. 
 
 to deal in mock tragedy, and though you make a pretty 
 picture kneeling there, I have no mind to paint you yonder, 
 where I put your colleague, Judas. Is it not a good- likeness 
 of your lover, as he looked that memorable day when the 
 broad banana-leaves overshadowed his handsome head ? " 
 
 She rapped the canvas with her clenched hand, and con- 
 tinued, in accents of indescribable scorn, — 
 
 " Do you kneel as penitent or petitioner ? You come to 
 crave my pardon, or my husband ? " 
 
 The governess had bowed her face almost to the carpet, 
 like some fragile flower borne down by a sudden flood; but 
 now she rose, and, throwing her head back proudly, answered 
 with firm yet gentle dignity, — 
 
 " Of Mrs. Gerome I crave nothing. Of Evelyn Carlyle I 
 demand justice ; simply bare justice." 
 
 "Justice! You are rash. Miss Dexter, to challenge fate; 
 for, were justice meted out, the burden would prove more in- 
 tolerable to you than that King Stork whom Zeus sent down 
 as a Ifemesis to quiet clamorous frogs. Justice, let me tell 
 you, long age fled from this hostile and inhospitable earth 
 and took refuge beyong the stars, where, please God, you and 
 I shall one day confront her and get our long-defrauded 
 dues. Justice? Nay, nay! the thing I recognize as justice 
 would crush yoii utterly, and you should flee to the Ultima 
 Thule to avoid 'it. I divine your mission. You come as 
 envoy-extraordinary from my honorable and chivalric hus- 
 band, to demand release from the bonds that doom me to wear 
 his name and you to live without that spotless aegis? Since 
 my fortune no longer percolates through the sieve of his 
 pocket, and legal quibbles can not now avail to wring thou- 
 sands from my pur^e, he desires a divorce, in order to i-emove 
 to your fair wrists the fetters which have proved more galling 
 to mine than those of iron." 
 
 " Evelyn, insult must not be heaped upon injury. As God 
 hears me, I tell you solemnly that you have seen your hus- 
 band since I have. Upon Maurice Carlyle's face I have never 
 looked since that fatal hour when I last saw yours, ghastly 
 and rigid, against the background of guava-boughs. Prom 
 
VNTIL DEATH US VO PART. 419 
 
 that day until this, I have neither seen, nor spoken, nor writ- 
 ten to him." 
 
 " Then why are you here, to torment me with the sight of 
 your face, which would darken the precincts of heaven, if 
 I met it inside of the gates of pearl ? " 
 
 " I have come to exonerate myself from the aspersions that 
 in your frenzy you have cast upon me. Evelyn, I am here 
 to prove that my wrongs are greater than yours, — and if 
 either should crave pardon, it would best become you to sue 
 for it at my hands. But for you, I should have been a 
 happy wife, — blessed with a devoted husband and fond mother; 
 and now in my loneliness I stand for vindication before her 
 who robbed me of every earthly hope, and blotted all light, 
 all verdure, all beauty from my life. You had known Mau- 
 rice Carlyle six weeks, when you gave him your hand. I had 
 grown up at his side, — had loved, trusted, prayed, and 
 labored for him, — had been his promised wife for seven dreary 
 years of toil and separation, and was counting the hours 
 until the moment when he would lead me to the altar. Ah, 
 Evelyn,—" 
 
 A violent spell of coughing interrupted the governess, and 
 when it ended she did not complete the sentence. 
 
 Impatiently Mrs. Gerome motioned to her to continue, and, 
 turning her head which had been' averted, the hostess saw that 
 her guest was endeavoring to stanch a stream of blood that 
 trickled across her lips. Involuntarily the former started for- 
 ward and drew an easy-chair close to the slender figure which 
 leaned for support against the corner of the piano. 
 
 " Are you ill ? Pray sit down." 
 
 " It is only a hemorrhage from my lungs, which I have long 
 had reason to expect." 
 
 Wearily she sank into the chair, and hastily pouring a glass 
 of water from a gilt-starred crystal carafe, standing on the 
 centre-table, Mrs. Gerome silently offered it. As the governess 
 drained and returned the goblet, a drop of blood that stained 
 the rim fell on the hand of the mistress of the house. 
 
 Miss Dexter attempted to remove it with the end of her 
 plaid shawl, but her companion drew back, and taking a 
 
420 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 dainty, perfumed handkerchief from her pocket, shook out its 
 folds and said, hastily, — 
 
 " It is of no consequence. I see your handkerchief is al- 
 ready saturated ; will you accept mine ? " 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, she laid it on the lap of the 
 visitor, and left the room. 
 
 Soon after, a servant brought in a basin of water and 
 towels, which she placed on the table, and then, without ques- 
 tion or comment, withdrew. 
 
 Some time elapsed before Mrs. Gerome re-entered the par- 
 lor, bearing a glass of wine in her hand. Miss Dexter had 
 bathed her face, and, looking up, she saw that the gray hair 
 had been carefully coiled and fastened, and the flowing 
 merino belted at the waist ; but the brow wore its heavy cloud, 
 and the arch of the lip had not unbent. 
 
 " I hope you are better. Permit me to insist upon your 
 taking this wine." 
 
 She proffered it, but the governess shook her head, and 
 tears ran down her cheeks, as she said, — 
 
 " Thank you, — but I do not require it ; indeed I could not 
 swallow it." 
 
 The hostess bowed, and, placing the glass within her reach, 
 walked to the window which looked out on the marble mauso- 
 leum, and stood leaning against the cedarn facing. 
 
 Five, ten minutes passed, and the silence w£is only broken by 
 the ticking of the bronze clock on the mantelpiece. 
 
 " Evelyn." 
 
 The voice was so sweet, so thrilling, so mournfully pleading, 
 that it might have wooed even stone to pity ; but Mrs. Gerome 
 merely glanced over her shoulder, and said, frigidly, — 
 
 " Can I in any way contribute to Miss Dexter's comfort ? 
 The servants tell me there is no conveyance waiting for you; 
 but, since you seem too feeble to walk away, my carriage is at 
 your service whenever you wish to. return. Shall I order it? " 
 
 "No, I will not trouble you. I can walk; and, after a 
 little while, I will go away forever. Evelyn, do you think me 
 utterly unprincipled ? " 
 
 A moment passed before she was answered. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 421 
 
 " While you are in my house, courtesy forbids the expres- 
 sion of my opinion of your character." 
 
 " Oh, Evelyn, my darling ! God knows I have not merited 
 this harshness, this cruelty from your dear hands. Eight 
 tedious, miserable years I have searched and pr§yed for you, — 
 have clung to the hope of finding you, of telling you all, — of 
 hearing your precious lips utter those words for which my 
 ears have so long ached, ' Edith, I hold you guiltless of my 
 wretchedness.' But at last, when my search is successful, to be 
 browbeaten, derided, denounced, insulted, — oh, this is bitter 
 indeed ! This is too hard to be borne ! " 
 
 Her anguish was uncontrollable, and she sobbed aloud. 
 
 Across Mrs. Gerome's white lips crept a quiver, and over 
 her frozen features rose an unwonted flush; but she did not 
 move a muscle, or suffer her eyes to wander from the cross 
 and crown on Elsie's tomb. 
 
 " Evelyn, I believe, I hope (and may God forgive me if I 
 sin in hoping), that I have not many years, or perhaps even 
 months to live; and it would comfort me in my dying hour 
 to feel that I had laid before you some facts, of which I know 
 you must be ignorant. You have harshly and unjustly pre- 
 judged me, — have steeled yourself against me; still I wish 
 to tell you some things that weigh heavily upon my aching, 
 , desolate heart. Will you allow me to do so now? Will you 
 hear me ? " 
 
 There was evidently a struggle in the mind of the motion- 
 less woman beside the window, but it was brief, and left no 
 trace in the cold, ringing voice. 
 
 "I will hear you." 
 
 Slowly and impressively the governess began the narrative, 
 of which she had given ir. Grey a hasty resume, and when 
 she mentioned the midnight labors in which she had engaged, 
 the copying of legal documents, the sale of her drawings, the 
 hoarding of her salary in order to aid her mother and her 
 betrothed, and to remove the obstacles to her marriage, Mrs. 
 Gerome sat d,own, and, crossing her arms on the window-sill, 
 hid her face upon them. 
 
 Unflinchingly Miss Dexter detailed all that occurred after 
 
^22 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 her arrival in New York; and finally, approaching the win* 
 dow, she insisted that her listener should peruse the last let- 
 ter received from her lover, and containing the promise that 
 ■within ten days he would come to claim his bride. But the 
 lovely hand waved it aside, and the proud voice exclaimed im- 
 patiently, — 
 
 " I need no additional proof of his perfidy, which, beyonr" 
 controversy, was long ago established. Go on ! go on ! " 
 
 Upon .all that followed the ceremony, — ^the departure ot 
 the wife^ — and her own despairing grief, the governess dwelt 
 with touching eloquence and pathos; and, at last, as she 
 spoke of her fruitless Journey to England, — her sad search 
 through the insane asylums, — Mrs. Gerome lifted her queenly 
 head, and bent a piercing glance upon the speaker. 
 
 Ah ! what a hungry, eager expression looked out shyly from 
 her whilom hopeless eyes, when, with an imperious gesture, 
 she silenced her visitor, and asked, — 
 
 " You spent your hard earnings, not in trousseau, or prep- 
 arations for housekeeping; but hunting for me in lunatic 
 asylums ? Suppose you had found me in a mad-house ? " 
 
 " Then I should have become an inmate of the same gloomy 
 walls ; and, while you lived, should have shared with faithful 
 Elsie the care and charge of you. God is my witness, I had 
 resolved to dedicate my remaining years to the task of cheer- . 
 ing and guarding yours. Oh, Evelyn ! not until we stand in 
 the great Court of Heaven can you realize how sincerely, how 
 tenderly, and unwaveringly, I love you. My darling, how 
 can you distrust my faithful heart?" 
 
 She sank on her knees, and, throwing her arms around the 
 tall, slender form, looked with mournful, beseeching tender- 
 ness at the haughty features above her. 
 
 For a moment the proud, pale face glowed, — the great 
 shadowy eyes kindled and shone like wintry planets in some 
 crystalline sky ; but doubt, murderous, cynical doubt, grap- 
 pled with hope, and strangled it. 
 
 " Edith, I wish I could believe you. I am struggling de9 
 perately to lay hold of the fluttering garments of faith> but 
 I cannot! Suspicion has walked hand in hand with me so 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 423 
 
 long that I cannot shake off her numbing touch, and I dis- 
 trust all human things, save the dusty heart that moulders 
 yonder in my old Elsie's grave." 
 
 She pointed to the white columns of the temple, and then 
 the uplifted fingers fell heavily on Edith's shoulder. 
 
 " Go on. I wish to learn whose treachery betrayed the 
 secret of my retreat." 
 
 Pressing her feverish lips to the hand she admired so en- 
 thusiastically, Miss Dexter resumed her recital of what had 
 occurred since her journey to London, and finally ended it 
 with an account of her removal to ' Grassmere,' and of the dis- 
 covery of the miniatures that guided her to ' Solitude.' 
 
 A long pause followed, and a heavy sigh, only partially 
 smothered, indexed the contest that raged under Mrs. Ger- 
 ome's calm exterior. 
 
 " Edith, would you have inferred from Dr, Grey's manner 
 that he was not only acquainted with my history, but yours, 
 at least, so far as it intersected mine? Did he furnish no 
 hint, no clew, that aided you in your search ? " 
 
 " None 'whatever. On the contrary, he appeared so preoe- 
 cupiedi so abstracted, that I reproached him with indifference 
 to my troubles. It is not possible that he knew all, while 
 I briefly summed up a portion of the past." 
 
 " At that moment he was thoroughly cognizant of every- 
 thing that I could tell him. But, at least, one honorable, 
 trustworthy man yet graces the race ; one pure, incorruptible, 
 and consistent Christian remains to shed lustre upon a 
 church that can nowhere boast his peer. I confided all to 
 Dr. Grey, and he has kept the trust. Ah, Edith, if you had 
 only reposed the same confidence in me, during those halcyon 
 days of our early friendship, — days that seem to me now as 
 far off, as dim and unreal, as those starry nights when I lay 
 in my little crib, dreaming of that mother whose face I never 
 saw, whose smile is one of the surprises and blessings re- 
 served for eternity, — how different my lot and yours might 
 have been ! Why did you not trust me with your happy hopes, 
 your lover's name and difficulties? How differently I would 
 have invested that fortune, which proved our common ruin. 
 
424 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 and doomed three lives to uselessness and woe. To-day you 
 might have proudly worn the name that I utterly detest; 
 and I, the outcast, the wanderer, the tireless, friendless waif, 
 drifting despairingly down the tide of time, — even I, the un- 
 loved, might have been, not a solitary cumberer, not a house- 
 hold upaSj^but why taunt the hideous Actual with a blessed 
 and beautiful Impossible ? Ah, truly, truly, — 
 
 "What might have been, I know, is not ; 
 What must be, must be borne ; 
 But ah I what hath been will not be forgot, 
 Never, oh ! never, in the years to follow ! ' " 
 
 She closed her eyes and seemed pondering the past, and 
 mutely the governess prayed that hallowed memories of their 
 former affection might soften her apparently petrified heart. 
 
 Edith saw a great change overspread the countenance, but 
 could not accurately interpret its import; and her own heart 
 began to beat the long-roll. 
 
 The heavy black eyelashes lying on Mrs. Gerome's marble 
 cheeks glistened, trembled, and tears stole slowly across 
 her face. She raised her hand, but dropped it in her lap, 
 And frowned slightly and sighed. Then she lifted it once 
 more, and looking through the shining mist that magnified 
 her splendid eyes, she laid her fingers on the golden head of 
 the kneeling woman. 
 
 "You and I have innocently wronged and ruined each 
 other ; you with your beauty, I with my accursed gold. Time 
 was when at your bidding I would have laid my throbbing 
 heart at. your feet, provided I could thereby save you one 
 pang ; for I loved you as women very rarely love one another. 
 But now, lonely and hopeless, I have lost the power, the ca- 
 pacity to love anything, and I have no heart left in my bosom. 
 I acquit you of much for which I formerly held you re- 
 sponsible, and I honor the purity of purpose that forbade your 
 receiving the visits or letters of him who must one day answer 
 for our worthless lives. I fully forgive you the suffering that 
 made me prematurely old ; but my affection is as dead as all 
 >y girlish hopes, and buried under the crushing years that 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 425 
 
 hare dragged themselves over my poor, proud, pain-bleached 
 head. You are more fortunate, more enviable than I, for 
 you have the comforting anticipation of a speedy release, the 
 precious assurance that your torture will ere long be ended j 
 vfhile I must front the prospect of perhaps fourscore and ten 
 years; for, despite my ivory skin and fever-blanched locks, I 
 am maddeningly healthy. Friend of my childhood, friend of 
 my happy, sunny, sinless days, I cordially congratulate you 
 on your approaching deliverance. God knows I would pay 
 you my fortune, if I could innocently and successfully inject 
 into my veins and lungs the poison that will soon rob you of , 
 care and regriet. If I was harsh to-day, forgive and forget it, 
 for nothing rankles in the grave; and now, Edith, go away 
 quickly, before I repent and recant the words I here utter, 
 God comfort you, Edith Dexter, and remember that I hold 
 you guiltless of my wrecked destiny." 
 
 " Oh, Evelyn ! add one thing more. Say, ' Edith, I love 
 you.' " 
 
 A strangely mournful smile parted Mrs. Gerome's perfect 
 lips over her dazzling teeth, as she pushed the kneeling figure 
 from her, and said coldly, — 
 
 "Rise, and leave me. I love no living thing, brute or 
 human, for even my faithful dog lies buried a few yards 
 hence. Maurice treated my warm, loving nature, as Tofana 
 did her unsuspecting victims, and for that slow poison there 
 is no antidote. The sole interest I have in life centres in my 
 art, and when death mercifully remembers me, some pictures 
 I have patiently wrought out will be given to the public ; and 
 the next generation will, perhaps, — 
 
 ' Hear the world applaud the hollow ghost, 
 Which blamed the living woman,' 
 
 and, smiling grimly in my cofiBn, I shall echo, — 
 
 ' Hither to come, and to sleep, 
 Under the wings of renown.' " 
 
 Both rose, and the two so long divided faced each other 
 sorrowfully. 
 
f 26 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 "Dear Evelyn, do not hug despair so stubbornly to your 
 bosom. You might brighten your solitary existence if you 
 would, and be comparatively happy in this lovely seaside 
 home." 
 
 " You think * Solitude ' a very desirable and beautiful re- 
 treat? Do you remember the gay raiment and glittering 
 jewels that covered the radiant bride of Giacopone di Todi ? 
 One day an accident at a public festival mangled her mortally, 
 and when her gorgeous garments were torn ofE, lo ! 
 
 ' A robe of sackcloth next the smooth, white skin.' " 
 
 A sudden pallor crept over the delicate face~of the gover- 
 ness, and, folding her hands, she exclaimed with passionate 
 vehemence, — 
 
 " I cannot, I must not shrink from the chief object of my 
 visit here. I came not only to exonerate myself, but to plead 
 for poor Maurice." 
 
 Mrs. Gerome started back, and the pitiless gleam, came in- 
 stantly into her softened eyes. 
 
 "Do not mention his name again. I thought you had 
 neither seen nor heard from him." 
 
 "I must plead his wretched cause, since he is denied the 
 privilege of appealing to your mercy. Evelyn, my friends 
 write me that he is almost in a state of destitution. Only 
 last night I received this letter, which I leave for your perusal, 
 and which assures me he is in want, and, moreover, is danger- 
 ously ill. Who has the right, the privilege, — whose is the 
 duty, imperative and stern, to hasten to his bedside, to al- 
 leviate his suffering, to provide for his needs ? Yours, Evelyn 
 Carlyle, and yours alone. Where are the marriage vows that 
 you snatched from my lips eight years ago, and eagerly took 
 upon your own? Did you not solemnly swear in the presence 
 of heaven and earth to serve him and keep Lim in sickness, 
 and, forsaking all others, to hold him from that day forward, 
 for better, for worse, until death did part ye? Oh, Evelyn! 
 do not scowl, and turn away. However unworthy, he is your 
 husband in the sight of God and man, and your" wedding 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 427 
 
 oath calls you to him in this hour of his terrible need. Can 
 you sleep peacefully, knowing that he is tossing with parox^ 
 ysms of pain, and perhaps hungering and thirsting for that 
 which you could readily supply ? If it were right, — if I dared, 
 1 would hasten to him ; but my conscience inexorably forbids 
 the thought, and consigns my heart to torture, for which 
 there is no name. You will tell me that you provided once, 
 iwice, for all reasonable wants, — that he has recklessly 
 squandered liberal allowances. But will that satisfy your con- 
 science, while you still possess ample means to aid him ? Will 
 you permit the man whose name you bear to live on other 
 charity than your own, — and finally, to fill a pauper's grave ? 
 Oh, Evelyn ! was it for this that you took my darling, my idol, 
 from my clinging, loving arms ? Will you see his body writh- 
 ing in the agony of disease, and his precious, immortal soul 
 in fearful jeopardy, while you stand afar off, surrounded by 
 every luxury that ingenuity can suggest, and gold purchase? 
 Oh, Evelyn ! be merciful ; do your duty. Like a brave, true, 
 though injured woman, go to Maurice, and strive to make 
 him comfortable ; to lighten, by your pardon, his sad, heavily 
 laden heart. By your past, your memories of your betrothal, 
 your hopes of heaven, and above all, by your marriage vows, 
 I implore you to discharge your sacred duties." 
 
 A bitter smile twisted the muscles about Mrs. Gerome's 
 mouth, as she gazed into the quivering, eloquent face of her 
 companion, and listened to the impetuous appeal that poured 
 so pathetically over her burning lips. 
 
 " Edith, you amaze me. Is it possible that after all your 
 injuries you can cling so fondly, so madly, to the man who 
 slighted, and humiliated, and blighted you?" 
 
 " Ah ! you are his wife, and I am the ridiculed and pitied 
 victim of his flirtation, so says the world; but my affection 
 outlives yours. Evelyn-, I have loved him from the time 
 when I can first reeollet; I loved him with a deathless devo- 
 tion that neither his unworthiness, nor time, nor eternity can 
 conquer; and to-day, I tell you that he is dear to me, — dear 
 to me as some precious corpse, over which a gravestone has 
 gathered moss for eight weary, dreary years. The angels in 
 
428 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 heaven would not blush for the feeling in my heart towards 
 Maurice Carlyle; and the God who must soon judge me 
 will not condemn the pure and sacred love I cherish for the 
 only man who could ever have been my husband, but whom 
 I have resolutely refused to see, even when the world believed 
 you dead. I cannot go to him, and comfort, and provide for 
 him now ; but, in the name of God, and your oath, and if not 
 for your own sake, at least for his and for mine, I ask you 
 once more, Evelyn Carlyle, will you hasten to your erring 
 but unhappy husband ? " 
 
 Her scarlet cheeks and lips, her glowing brown eyes, and 
 waving yellow hair, formed a singular contrast to the color- 
 less, cold face of her listener ; whose steely gaze was fixed on 
 the distant sea, that lay like a beryl mirror beneath the hazy 
 sky. 
 
 When the sound of the sweet but strained voice had died 
 away, Mrs. Gerome turned her eyes towards the governess, 
 and answered, — 
 
 " I will do my duty, no matter how revolting." 
 
 " Thank God ! When will you go ? " 
 
 " If at all, at once." 
 
 " Evelyn, when you come home, will you not let me see 
 you, now and then, and win my way back to my old place in 
 your dear heart ? Oh ! my pale, peerless darling, do not deny 
 me this." 
 
 " Home ? I have no home. My heart is grayer than my 
 head, — and your old niche is full of dust, and skeletons, and 
 murdered hopes. Let me see you no more in this world ; and 
 perhaps in the Everlasting Eest I shall forget my hideous 
 past, which your face recalls." 
 
 " Oh, my poor bruised darling ! do not banish me," wailed 
 the governess, endeavoring to fold her arms about the queenly 
 form, which silently but effectually held her back. 
 
 " At least, dear Evelyn, let me kiss you once more, in token 
 that you cherish no bitterness against me." 
 
 " 6ood-by, Edith. I hold you innocent of my injuries. 
 May God help you, and call us both speedily to our dreamless 
 sleep under moss and marble." 
 
'" UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 429 
 
 She bent down, and with firm, icy lips, lightly touched the 
 forehead of the governess, and walked away, unheeding the 
 burst of tears with which the frigid caress was welcomed. 
 
 " And I think, in the lives of most women and men, 
 
 There's a moment when all would go smooth and even. 
 If only the dead could find out when 
 To come back, and be forgiven." , 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 "Madam, are you aware that you breathe an infected at- 
 mosphere? — that this building is assigned to small-pox cases? 
 Pray do not cross the threshold." 
 
 The superintendent of the hospital laid aside his pipe, and 
 advanced to meet the stranger whose knock had startled him 
 from a post-prandial doze. 
 
 " I am not afraid of contagion, and came to see the patient 
 who was brought here yesterday from No. 139 Elm Street." 
 
 " Have you a permit to visit here ? " 
 
 " Yes ; you will find it on this paper, given me by tlie proper 
 authorities." 
 
 " What 18 ihe name of the person you desire to see ? " 
 
 The superintendent opened a book that lay on the table 
 beside him, and drew his finger up and down the page. 
 
 "Maurice Carlyle." 
 
 " Ah, yes,^— I have it now. Maurice Carlyle, Ward 3, — cot 
 No. 7. Madam, may I ask, — " 
 
 " No, sir ; I have no inclination to answer idle questions. 
 Will you show me the way, or shall I find it ? " 
 
 " Certainly, I will conduct you ; but I was about to remark 
 that a death has just occurred in Ward No. 3, and I am under 
 the impression that it was the Elm Street case. Madam, you 
 look faint ; shall I bring you a glass of water ? " 
 
 " No. Show me the body of the dead." 
 
 " This way, if you please." 
 
 He walked down a dim, low-vaulted passage, and paused at 
 
430 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 the eatrance of a room lined with cots, where the nurse waa 
 slowly passing from patient to patient. 
 
 " Nurse, show this lady to cot No. 7." 
 
 Swiftly the tall figure of the visitor glided down the room, 
 and placing- her hand on the arm of the nurse, she said 
 huskily, — 
 
 " Where is the man who has Just died? Quick ! do not 
 keep me in suspense." 
 
 " There, to the right ; shall I uncover the face ? " 
 
 Under the blue check coverlet that was spread smoothly 
 over the cot, the stiff outlines of a human form were clearly 
 defined; and, when the nurse stooped, the stranger put out 
 one arm and held him back, while her whole frame trembled 
 viokntly. 
 
 " Stop ! be good enough to leave me." 
 
 The attendant withdrew a few yards, and curiously watched 
 the queenly woman, who stood motionless, with her fingers 
 tightly interlaced. 
 
 She was dressed in a gray suit of some shining fabric, and 
 a long gossamer veil of the same hue hung over her features. 
 After a few seconds she swept back the veil, and, as she bent 
 forward, a stray sunbeam dipped through the closed shutters, 
 and flashed across a white horror-stricken face, crowned with 
 clustering braids of silver hair. 
 
 She shut her eyes an instant, grasped the coverlet, and drew 
 it down; then caught her breath, and looked at the dead. 
 
 It was a young, boyish face, horribly swollen and distorted, 
 and coarse red locks were matted around his brow and temples. 
 
 " Thank God, Maurice Carlyle still lives." 
 
 She involuntarily raised her hands towards heaven, and 
 the expression of dread melted from her countenance. 
 
 Slowly and reverently she re-covered the corpse, and ap- 
 proached- the nurse. 
 
 " I am searching for my husband. Which cot is No. 7 ? " 
 
 " That on your left, — ^next to the dead." 
 
 Mrs. Carlyle turned, and gazed at the bloated crimson mass 
 of disease that writhed on the narrow bed, and a long shudder 
 crept over her, as she endeavored to discover in that loath- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 431 
 
 some hideous visage some familiar feature — some trace of the 
 manly beauty that once rendered it so fascinating. 
 
 The swollen blood-shot eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, 
 and, while delirious muttering fell upon the ears of the visi- 
 tor, she saw that his cheeks were somewhat lacerated, and his 
 hands, partially confined, were tearing at the inflamed flesh. 
 
 She shivered with horror, and a groan broke from her pity- 
 ing heart. 
 
 " 'What an awful retribution ! My God, have mercy upon 
 him ! He is sufficiently punished." 
 
 Drawing her perfumed lace handkerchief from her pocket, 
 she leaned over and wiped away the bloody foam that oozed 
 across his Jips, and lifting his hot head turned it sufficiently 
 to expose the right ear, where a large mole was hidden by the 
 thick hair. 
 
 " Maurice Carlyle ! But what a fearful wreck ? " 
 
 She covered her eyes with her hand, and moaned. 
 
 The nurse came nearer, and said hesitatingly, — 
 
 " Madam, surely he is not your husband ? His clothes are 
 almost -in tatters, while yours are — ahem ! — " 
 
 " Spare me all comments on the comparison. Can I obtain 
 a comfortable, quiet room, in this building, and have him re- 
 moved to it at once? You hesitate? I will compensate you 
 liberally, will pay almost any price for an apartment where he 
 can at least have silence and seclusion." 
 
 " We can accommodate you, but of course if the patient is 
 carried from this ward to a private room, we shall be com- 
 pelled to charge extra." 
 
 " Charge what you choose, only arrange the matter as 
 promptly as possible. How soon can you make the change ? " 
 
 " In twenty minutes, madam." 
 
 The nurse rang for an assistant, to whom the necessary in- 
 structions were" given, and in the interim Mrs. Carlyle leaned 
 against the cot, and brushed away the flies that buzzed about 
 the pitiable victims. 
 
 Two men carried the sufferer up a flight of steps, and ere 
 long he was transferred to a large comfortable bed in an airy, 
 well-furnished apartment. 
 
432 VNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 The removal had not been completed more than an hour, 
 when the surgeon made his evening round, and followed the 
 patient to his new quarters. 
 
 He paused at sight of the elegantly dressed woman who sat 
 beside the bed, and said, stammeringly, — 
 
 " I am informed that No. 7 is your husband, and that you 
 have taken charge of his case, and intend to nurse him. Have 
 you had small-pox ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Madam, you run a fearful risk." 
 
 " I fully appreciate the hazard, and am prepared to incur 
 it. Do you regard this case as hopeless ? " 
 
 " Not altogether, though the probabilities are that it will 
 terminate fatally." 
 
 " I have had too little experience to warrant my undertak- 
 ing the management of the case, and, while I intend to remain 
 here, I wish you to engage the services of some trustworthy 
 nurse who understands the treatment of this disease. Can 
 you recommend such a person ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam; I can send you a man in whom I have entire 
 confidence, and fortunately he is not at present employed. 
 If you desire it, I will see him within the next hour, and give 
 him all requisite instructions about the patient." 
 
 " Promptness in this matter wHl greatly oblige me, and I 
 wish to spare no expense in contributing to the comfort and 
 restoration of the sufferer^ As I am utterly unknown to you, 
 I prefer to place in your hands a suflBcient amount to defray 
 all incidental expenditures." 
 
 She laid a roll of bills upon the table, and as Dr. Cling- 
 man counted them, she added, — 
 
 "It is possible that I may be attacked by this disease^ 
 though I have been repeatedly vaccinated ; and if I should die, 
 please recollect that you will find in my purse a memorandum 
 of the disposition I wish made of my body, — also the address 
 of my agent and banker in New York City." 
 
 With mingled curiosity and admiration the physician looked 
 at the pale, handsome woman, who spoke of death as coldly 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 433 
 
 and unconcernedly as of to-morrow's sun, or next month's 
 moon. 
 
 " Madam, allow me to ask if you have no friends in this 
 city, — no relatives nearer than New York ? " 
 
 " None, sir. It is my wish that our conversation should be 
 confined to the symptoms and treatment of your patient." 
 
 Dr. Clingman bowed, and, after writing minute instruc- 
 tions upon a sheet of paper left on the mantelpiece, took his 
 departure. 
 
 Securing the door on the inside, Mrs. Carlyle threw aside 
 her bonnet and wrappings, and came back to the sufferer on 
 the bed. 
 
 Eight years of reckless excess and dissipation had obliter- 
 ated every vestige of manly beauty from features that disease 
 now rendered loathsome, and the curling hair and long beard 
 were unkempt and grizzled. 
 
 Leaning against the pillow, the lonely woman bent over to 
 scrutinize the distorted, burning face, and softly took into her 
 cool palms one hot and swollen hand, which in other days 
 she had admiringly stroked, and tenderly pressed against her 
 cheek and lips. How totally unlike that countenance, which, 
 handsome as Apollyon, had looked down at her on her bridal 
 day, and fondly whispered — " my wife." 
 
 Memory mercilessly broke open sealed chambers in that 
 wretched woman's heart, and out of one leaped a wail that 
 made her tremble and moan, — " Oh, Evelyn, my wife, forgive 
 your husband." 
 
 Slowly compassion began to bridge the dark gulf of separa- 
 tion and hate, and as the wife gazed at the writhing form of 
 her husband, her stony face softened, and tears gathered in 
 the large, mournful eyes. 
 
 "Ah, Maurice! This world has proved a huge cheat to 
 you and to me, — and well-nigh cost us all peace in the next 
 one. My husband, yet my bitterest foe, — my first, my last, 
 my only love ! If I could recall one throb of the old affection, 
 one atom of the old worshipping tenderness and devotion, — 
 but it has withered; my heart is scorched and ashen, — and 
 neither love nor hope haunts its desolate ruins. Poor, pol- 
 28 
 
i34: UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 luted, down-trodden idol! Maurice — ^Maurice — my husband, 
 I have come. Evelyn, your wife, forgives you, as she hopes 
 for pardon at the hands of her God." 
 
 Kneeling beside the bed, with her snowy fingers clasped 
 around his, she bowed her head, and humbly prayed for his 
 soul, and for her own; and, when the petition ended, that 
 peace which this world can never give, — which had so long 
 been exiled, fluttered back and brooded once more in her 
 storm-riven heart. 
 
 Softly she lifted and smoothed the long tangled hair 
 that clung to his forehead, and tears dripped upon his scarlet 
 face, as she said; brokenly, — 
 
 ~ "Till death us do part! Poor Maurice! Deserted and 
 despised by your former parasites. After long years, my 
 vows bring me back in the hour of your need. God grant you 
 life, to redeem your past, — to save your sinful soul from 
 eternal ruin." 
 
 Suns rose and set, weary days and solemn nights of vigil 
 succeeded each other, and tirelessly the wife and hired nurse 
 watched the progress of the dreadful disease. Occasionally 
 Mr. Carlye talked deliriously, and more than once the name 
 of Edith Dexter hung on his lips, and was coupled with 
 tenderer terms than were ever bestowed on the woman who 
 wore his own. Bending over his pillow, the pale watcher 
 heard and noted all, and a sad pitying smile curved her mouth 
 now and then, as she realized that the one holy love of this 
 man's life triumphed over the wreck of fortune, health, and 
 hope, and kept its hold upon the heart that long years before 
 had sold itself to Lucifer. 
 
 Sleeplessly, faithfully, she went to and fro in that dark- 
 ened room, whose atmosphere was tainted by infection, and 
 at last she found her reward. The crisis was safely passed, 
 and she was assured the patient would recover. 
 
 The apartment was so dimly lighted that Mr. Carlyle took 
 little notice of his attendants, but one afternoon when the 
 nurse had gone to procure some refreshments, the sick man 
 turned on his pillow, and looked earnestly at the woman who 
 was engaged in writing at a table near the bed. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 435 
 
 "Mrs. Smith." 
 
 Mrs. Carlyle rose and approached him. 
 
 " Are you Mrs. Smith, — ^my landlady ? " 
 
 " No, sir. I am merely your nurse." 
 
 " My nurse ? What is the matter with me ? " 
 
 " Small-pox, — but the danger is now of er." 
 
 " Small-pox! Where did I catch it? Am I still in Elm 
 Street?" 
 
 " No, sir ; you are in the hospital." 
 
 Shading his inflamed eyes with his hand, he mused for some 
 moments, and she saw a perplexed and sorrowful expression 
 cross his features. 
 
 " Is there any danger of my dying? " 
 
 "That danger is past." 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 "Mrs. Gerome." 
 
 " Stand a little closer to me. I find I am almost blind. 
 Mrs. Gerome? Your voice is strangely like one that I have 
 not heard for many years, — and it carries me back, — ^back — 
 to — " He sighed, and pressed his fingers over his eyes.- 
 
 After a few seconds, he said, — 
 
 " Do give me some water. I am as parched as Dives." 
 
 She lifted his head and put the glass to his lips, — and 
 while he drank, his eyes searched her face, and lingered ad- 
 miringly on her beautiful hand. 
 
 " Are you a regular nurse at this hospital ? " 
 
 " I am engaged for your case." 
 
 "I see no pock-marks on your skin; it is as smooth as 
 ivory. Shall I escape as lightly 
 
 "It is impossible to tell. Here comes your dinner." 
 
 He eaught her arm, and gazed earnestly at her. 
 
 " la your hair really so white, or is it merely an illusioBi 
 of my inflamed eyes?" 
 
 " There is not a dark hair in my head ; it is as white as 
 snow." 
 
 While the nurse prepared the food and arranged it on the 
 table, Mrs. Carlyle hastily colleeted several articles scattered 
 about the apiartment, and softly opened the door. 
 
436 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Standing there a moment, she looked back at the figure 
 comfortably elevated on pillows, and a long sigh of relief 
 crossed her lips. 
 
 "Thank God! I have done my duty, and now he needs 
 me no longer. Next time I see your face, Maurice Carlyle, 
 I hope it will be at the last bar, in the final judgment; and 
 then may the Lord have mercy upon us both." 
 
 The words were breathed inaudibly, and, closing the door 
 gently, she hurried down the steps and in the direction of 
 a small room which Dr. Clingman had converted into an 
 office. 
 
 As she entered, he looked up and pushed back his spectacles. 
 
 "What can I do for you?" 
 
 " A little thing, which will cost you no trouble, but will 
 greatly oblige me. Doctor, I have found you a kind and 
 sympathizing gentleman, and am grateful for the delicate 
 consideration with which you have treated me. Mr. Carlyle 
 is beyond danger, and I shall leave him in your care. When 
 he is sufficiently strong to be removed, I desire that you 
 will give him this letter, which contains a check payable 
 to his order. There, examine it, and be so good as to write 
 me a receipt." 
 
 Silently he complied, and when she had re-enclosed the 
 iheck and sealed the envelope she placed it in his hand. 
 
 " Dr. Clingman, is there any other place to which small-pox 
 cases can be carried? To-day I have discovered some symp- 
 toms of the disease in my own system, and I feel assured 
 I shall be ill before this time to-morrow." 
 
 " My dear madam, why not remain here ? " 
 
 "Because I do not wish to be discovered by Mr. Carlyle, 
 and forced to meet him again. I prefer to suffer, and, if 
 need be, die, alone and unknown." 
 
 " If you will trust yourself to me, and to a faithful female 
 nurse whom I can secure, I promise you, upon my honor 
 as a gentleman, that I will allow no one else to see you, 
 living or dead. My dear madam, I beg you to reconsider, 
 and remain where I can watch over, and perhaps preserve 
 your life. I dreaded this. You are feveri^ now." 
 
VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 4.37 
 
 Wearily she swept her hand acrbss her forehead, and a 
 dreary smile flitted over her wan features. 
 
 " My life is a worthless, melancholy thing, useless to 
 others, and a crushing burden to me ; and I might as well lay 
 it down here as elsewhere. I accept your promise. Dr. 
 Clingman, and hope you will obtain a room in the quiet 
 and secluded portion of the building. If I should be so 
 fortunate as to die, do not forget the memorandum in this 
 purse. I leave my body in your care, my soul in the hands 
 of Him who alone can give it rest." 
 
 " The burden of my days is hard to bear, 
 But God knows best ; 
 And I have prayed, — but vain has been my prayer, — 
 For rest — for rest." 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXII. 
 
 " Miss Dexter, have you succeeded in seeing Mrs. Gerome 
 since her return ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; she obstinately refuses to admit me, though I 
 have called twice at the house. Yesterday I received a letter 
 in answer to several that I have addressed to her, all of which 
 she returned unopened. Since you have already learned so 
 much of our melancholy history, why should I hesitate to 
 acquaint you with the contents of her letter? You know 
 the object of her journey north, and I will read you the 
 result." 
 
 The governess drew a letter from her pocket, and Dr. 
 Grey leaned his face on his hand and listened. 
 
 " Solitude, May 10th, 18 — . 
 
 "Edith, — No lingering vestige of affection, no remorseful 
 tenderness, prompted that mission from which I have recently 
 returned, and only the savage scourgings of implacable duty 
 could have driven me, like a galley-slave, to my hated task. 
 The victim of a horrible and disfiguring disease which S9 
 
438 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 completely changed his countenance that his own mother 
 would scarcely have recognized him, — and the tenant of a 
 
 charity hospital in the town of , I found that man who 
 
 has proved the Upas of your life and of mine. During his 
 delirium I watched and nursed him — not lovingly (how could 
 I?) but faithfully, kindly, pityingly. When all danger was 
 safely passed, and his clouded intellect began to clear itself, 
 I left him in careful hands, and provided an ample amount 
 for his comfortable maintenance in coming years. I spared 
 him the humiliation of recognizing in his nurse his injured 
 and despised wife; and, as night after night I watched be- 
 side the pitiable wreck of a once handsome, fascinating, and 
 idolized man, I fully and freely forgave Maurice Carlyle 
 all the wrongs that so completely stranded my life. To-day 
 he is well, and probably happy, while he finds himself pos- 
 sessed of means by which to gratify his extravagant tastes; 
 but how long his naturally fine constitution can hold at 
 bay the legion of ills that hunt like hungry wolves along 
 the track of reckless dissipation, God only knows. 
 
 "For some natures it is exceedingly difficult to forgive, — 
 to forget, impossible ; and while my husband's abject wretch- 
 edness and degradation disarmed the hate that has for so 
 many years rankled in my heart, I could never again look 
 willingly upon his face. Edith, you and I have nothing 
 in common but miserable memories, which, I beg you to be- 
 lieve, are sufficiently vivid, without the torturing adjunct 
 of your countenance; therefore, pardon me if I decline to 
 receive your visits, and return the letters that are quite 
 as welcome and cheering to my eyes as the little shoes and 
 garments of the long-buried dead to the mother, who would 
 fain look no more upon the harrowing relics. I do not 
 wish to be harsh, but I must be honest, and our intercourse 
 can never be renewed in this world. 
 
 " In bygone days, when I loved you so fondly and trusted 
 you so fully, it was my intention to share m]? fortune with 
 you; and, since I find that you have not forfeited my con^ 
 fidence in the purity of your purposes, such is still my wish. 
 I enclose a draft on my banker, which I hope you will deem 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 4,39 
 
 sufficient to enable you to abandon the arduous pi-ofession 
 in which, you have worn out your life. ' If I can feel assured 
 that I have been instrumental in contributing to the peace 
 and ease of the years that may yet be in store for you, it will 
 serve as one honeyed drop to sweeten the dregs of the cup 
 of woe I am draining. Edith, do not refuse the only aid 
 I can offer you in your loneliness; and accept the earnest 
 assurance that I shall be grateful for the privilege of pro- 
 moting your comfort. Affection and trust I have not, and' 
 a few paltry thousands are all I am now able to bestow. By 
 the love you once professed, and in the name of that com- 
 passion you should feel for me, I beg of you, despise not 
 the gift; and let the consciousness that I have saved you 
 from toil and fatigue quiet the soul and ease the heart of 
 a lonely woman, who has shaken hands with every earthly 
 hope. I have done my duty, my conscience is calm and con- 
 tented, and I sit wearily on the stormy shore of time, waiting 
 for the tide that will drift into eternity the desolate, proud 
 soul of 
 
 "Vashti Carltle." 
 
 Tears rolled over the governess' cheeks, and, refolding the 
 letter, she said, sorrowfully, — 
 
 " My poor, heart-broken Vashti ! She has resumed the 
 name which old Elsie gave her because it was her mother's; 
 and how mournfully appropriate it has proved. I could 
 be happy if permitted to spend the residue of my days with 
 her; but she decrees otherwise, and I have no alternative but 
 submission to her imperious will." 
 
 Dr. Grey did not lift his face where the shadow of a 
 great, voiceless grief hung heavily, and his low tone indexed 
 deep and painful emotion, when he answered,— 
 
 "I sincerely deplore her unfortunate decision, for isola- 
 tion only augments the ills from which she suffers. Many 
 months have elapsed since I saw her last, but Eobert Maclean 
 told me to-day that she was sadly changed in appearance, 
 and seemed in feeble health . She did not tell you that- 
 she had been dangerously ill with varioloid, contracted while 
 
i40 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 nursing her husband. Although not in the least marked or 
 disfigured, the attack must have seriously impaired her 
 constitution, if all that Eobert tells me be true. Since her 
 return, one month ago, she has not left her room." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, exert your iniluenee in my behalf, and pre- 
 vail upon her to admit me." 
 
 "Miss Dexter, you ascribe to me powers of persuasion 
 which, unfortunately, I do not possess; and Mrs. Carlyle's 
 decree is beyond the reach of human agency. To the few 
 who are earnestly interested in her welfare, there remain* 
 but one avenue of aid and comfort, — =faithful, fervent prayer." 
 
 " Perhaps you are not aware of the exalted estimate she 
 places on your character, nor of the value she attaches to 
 your opinions. Of all living beings, she told me she rever- 
 enced and trusted you most; and you, at least, would not 
 be denied access to her presence." 
 
 She could not see the tremor on his usually firm lips, nor 
 the pallor that overspread his face, and when he spoke his 
 grave voice did not betray the tumult in his aching heart. 
 
 " I am no longer a visitor at ' Solitude,' and shall not see 
 its mistress unless she requires my professional aid. While 
 I am very deeply interested in her happiness, I could never 
 consent to intrude upon her seclusion." 
 
 " I know my days are numbered, and after a little while 
 I shall sleep well under the ancient cedars that shade the 
 head-stones of my father and mother; but I could die more 
 cheerfully, more joyfully, if Evelyn would only be comforted, 
 and accept some human friendship." 
 
 " For some weeks you have seemed so much better that I 
 hoped warm weather would quite relieve and invigorate you. 
 Spend next winter in Cuba or Mexico, and it will probably 
 add many months, possibly years, to your life." 
 
 She smiled, and shook her head. 
 
 " This beautiful springtime has temporarily baffled the 
 disease, but for me there can be no restoration. Day by 
 day I feel the ebbing of strength and energy, and the. ap- 
 proach of my deliverer, death; but I realize also, what the 
 Centaur uttered to Melampus, ' I decline unto my last days 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 4^X 
 
 calm as the setting of the constellations; but I feel myself 
 perishing and passing quickly away, like a snow-wreath float- 
 ing on the stream.' " 
 
 As he looked at the thin, pure face where May sunshine 
 streamed warm and bright, and marked the perfect peace 
 that brooded over the changed features. Dr. Grey was re- 
 minded of the lines that might have been written for her, 
 so fully were they suited to her case, — 
 
 " I saw that one who lost her love in pain, 
 
 Who trod on thorns, who drank the loathsome cup ; 
 The lost in night, in day was found again ; 
 
 The fallen was lifted up. 
 They stood together in the blessed noon. 
 
 They sang together through the length of days ; 
 Each loving face bent sunwards, like a moon 
 
 New-lit with love and praise." 
 
 "My friend, the shadows are passing swiftly from your 
 life, and, in the mild radiance of its close, you can well afford 
 to forget the storms that clouded its dawn." 
 
 " Forget ? .No, Dr. Grey, I neither endeavor nor desire 
 to forget the sorrows that first taught me the emptiness of 
 earthly things, the futility of human schemes, — that snapped 
 the frail reed of flesh to which I clung, and gave me, instead, 
 the blessed support, the immovable arm of an everlasting 
 God. Ah! that woman was deeply versed in the heart-lore 
 of her own sex, who wrote,^ — 
 
 ' When I remember something which I had, 
 But which is gone, and I must do without. 
 
 When I remember something promised me, 
 But which I never had, nor can have now, 
 
 Because the promiser we no more see 
 In countries that accord with mortal vow ; 
 
 When I remember this, I mourn, — but yet 
 
 My happier days are not the days when 1 forget.' " 
 
 ** If Mrs. Carlyle possessed a tithe of your faith and philoso« 
 
442 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 jAy, how serene, how tranquilly useful her future years 
 might prove." 
 
 " In God's own good time her trials will be sanctified to 
 her eternal peace, and she will one day glide from grief to 
 glory, for she can claim the promise of our Lord, ' The pure 
 in heart shall see God.' No purer heart than Vaiihti Carlyle's 
 throbs this side of the throne where seraphim and cherubimi 
 hover." 
 
 In the brief silence that succeeded, the governess observed 
 the unusually grave and melancholy expression of her com- 
 panion's countenance, and asked, timidly, — 
 
 " Has anything occurred recently to distress or annoy you ? 
 You look depressed." 
 
 " I feel inexpressibly anxious about Salome, concerning 
 whose fate 1 can learn nothing that is comforting. In 
 reply to my letter, urging him to make every effort to ascertain 
 
 her locality and condition, Professor V writes, that 
 
 he is now a confirmed invalid, confined to his room, and un- 
 able to conduct the search for his missing pupil. She left 
 Palermo on a small, vessel bound for Monaco, and her fare- 
 well note stated, that all attempts to discover her retreat 
 would prove futile, as she was resolved to preserve her in- 
 cognito, and wished her friends in America to remain in 
 
 ignorance of her mode of life. Professor V surmises 
 
 that she is in Paris, but gives no good reason fqr the con- 
 jecture, except that she possibly sought the best medical 
 advice for the treatment of her throat and recovery of her 
 voice. His last letter, received yesterday, informed me that 
 one of Salome?s most devoted admirers, a Bostonian of im- 
 mense wealth,, was so deeply grieved by her inexplicable dis- 
 appearance that he was diligently searching for her in Leg- 
 horn and Monaco. She left Palermo aloiie, and with a com- 
 paratively empty purse." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, are yoi; aware of the suspicions which Muriel 
 has long entertained with reference to Mr. Granville's admira- 
 tion of Salome, and the efforts of the latter to encourage his 
 attentions ? " 
 
 "I have very cogent reasons for believing that however 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 443 
 
 amenable to censure Mr. Granville doubtless is, Muriel's 
 distrast of Salome is totally uujust. If she were capable 
 of the despicable course my ward is disposed to impute to 
 her, I should cease to feel any interest in her career or fate; 
 but I cherish the conviction that she would scorn, to be 
 guilty of conduct so ignoble. Her defects of character I 
 shall neither deny nor attempt to palliate, but I trust her true 
 womanly heart as I trust my own manly honor; and a stern 
 sense of justice to the absent constrains me to vindicate her 
 from Muriel's hasty and unfounded aspersions. So strong 
 is my faith in Salome's conscientiousness, - so earnest my 
 
 friendship for her, that since the receipt of Professor V '» 
 
 letter I have determined to go immediately to Europe, and 
 if possible discover her retreat. My sister's adopted child 
 must not and shall not suffer and struggle among strangers, 
 w'hile I live to aid and protect her." 
 
 Miss Dexter rose and laid her thin, feverish hand on his 
 arm, while embarrassment made her voice tremble slightly,' — 
 
 "I am rejoiced to learn your decision, and God grant 
 you speedy success in your quest. Do not deem me presump- 
 tuous or impertinent if, prompted by a sincere desire to see 
 you happy, I venture to say, that he who lightly values the 
 pure, tender, devoted love of such a woman as Salome Owen, 
 — ^tramples on treasures that would make his life affluent 
 and blessed — that neither gold can purchase nor royalty com- 
 pel. Under your iguidance, moulded by your influence, she 
 would become a noble woman, — of whom any man might 
 justly be proud." 
 
 Fearful that she had already incurred his displeasure, and 
 unwilling to meet his eye, she turned quickly and made her 
 escape through the open door. 
 
 In the bright glow of that lovely spring day, the calm face 
 of TJlpian Grey seemed scarcely older than on the afternoon 
 when he came to make the farm his home ; and though paler, 
 and ciphered over by the leaden finger of anxiety, it indexed 
 little of the long, fierce strife, that conscience had waged 
 with heart. 
 
 Lighter and more impulsive natures expend themselves 
 
444 UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 
 
 in Bpasmodic and violent ebullitions, but the great deep of 
 this man's serene character had never stirred, until the one 
 mighty love of his life had lashed it into a tempest that, 
 tossed his hopes like sea-froth, and finally engulfed the only 
 rosy dream of wedded happiness that had ever flushed his 
 quiet, solitary, sedate existence. 
 
 Having kept his heart in holy subjection to the law of 
 Christ, he did not quail and surrender when the great temp- 
 tation rose, bearing the banner of insurrection; but sternly 
 and dauntlessly fronted the shock, and kept inviolate the 
 citadel, garrisoned by an invincible and consecrated will. 
 
 The yearning tenderness of his strong, tranquil soul, had 
 enfolded Mrs. Carlyle, drawing her more and more into 
 the penetralia of his affection; but from the hour in which 
 he learned her history he had torn away the clinging tendrils 
 of love, — had endeavored to expel her from his heart, and 
 to stifle its wail for the lost idol. 
 
 Week after week, month after month, he had driven every 
 day within sight of the blue smoke that curled above the 
 trees at "Solitude," but never even for an instant checked 
 his horse to gaze longingly towards the Eden whence he had 
 voluntarily exiled himself. 
 
 There were hours. when his heart ached for the sight of 
 that white face he had loved so madly, and the sound of the 
 mournfully sweet voice, — and his hand trembled at the 
 recollection of the soft, cold, snowy fingers, that once 
 thrilled his palms; but he treated these utterances of his 
 heart as mercilessly as the hunter who cheers his dogs in 
 the chase where the death-cry of the victim rings above bark 
 and halloo. 
 
 No wall of division, no sea of separation, would have proved 
 so effectual, so insurmountable, as his own firm resolve that 
 his earthly path should never cross that of one whom God's 
 statutes had set apart until death annulled the decree. In 
 this torturing ordeal he was strengthened by the conviction 
 that he alone suffered for his folly, — that Mrs. Carlyle 
 was a stranger to feelings that robbed him of sleep, and 
 clouded his days, — ^that the heaving tide of his devoted love 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 4,4.3 
 
 had broken against her frozen heart as idly as the surges of 
 the sea that die in foam upon the dreary, mysterious ruins 
 of the Serapeon at Pozzuoli. 
 
 In the silent watches of the night, as he pondered the 
 brief, beautiful vision that had so eomJ)letely fascinated 
 him, he reverently thanked God that the woman he loved 
 had never reciprocated his affection, and was not sitting in 
 the ashes of desolation, mourning his absence. Striving 
 to interest himself more and more in Stanley and Jessie, 
 who had become inordinately fond of him, his thoughts 
 continually reverted to Salome, and that subtle sympathy 
 which springs from the " fellow-being," that makes us " won- 
 drous kind " to those whose pangs are fierce as ours, began 
 faintly and shyly, but surely, to assert itself. A shadowy, 
 intangible self-reproach brooded like a phantom over his 
 generous heart, when, amidst the uncertainty that seemed 
 to overhang the orphan's fate, he remembered the number- 
 less manifestations of almost idolatrous affection which he 
 had coldly repulsed. 
 
 In the earnest interest that day by day deepened in the 
 absent girl, there was no pitiable vanity, no inflated self- 
 love, but a stern realization of the anguish and humili- 
 ation that must now be her portion, and a magnanimous 
 eagerness to endeavor to cheer a heart whose severest woes 
 had sprung from his indifference. 
 
 More than a year had elapsed, and no letter had ever 
 reached him, — not even a message in her two brief epistles 
 to Stanley, and Dr. Grey missed the bright, perverse ele- 
 ment that no longer thwarted him at every turn. 
 
 He longed to see the proud, girlish face, with its flashing 
 eyes, and red lips, and the haughty toss of the large, hand- 
 some head ; and the angry tones of her voice would have been 
 welcome sounds in the house where she had so long tyran- 
 nized. To-day, as Ulpian Grey sat in his own little sitting- 
 room, his eyes were fixed on a copy of Eembrandt's Nicholas 
 Tulp, .which hung over the mantelpiece ; but the mysteries 
 of anatomy no )onger riveted his attention, and his thoughts 
 were busy witfa memories of a fond though wayward girl, 
 
446 UNTIL DEATB US DO PART. 
 
 whom his indifference had driven to foreign lands, — ^to un- 
 known and fearful perils. 
 
 Through the windows stole the breath of Salome's violets, 
 and the eweet, spicy odor of the Belgian honeysuckle that 
 she had planted and twined around the mossy columns that 
 supported the gallery ; and with a sigh he closed his eyes, shut 
 out the anatomy of flesh, and began the dissection of emo-' 
 tions. 
 
 Could Salome's radiant face brighten his home, and win his 
 heart from its devouring regret? Would it be possible for 
 him to give her the place whence he had ejected Mrs. Carlyle ? 
 Could he ever persuade himself to call that fair, passionate 
 young thing, that capricious, obstinate, maliciously perverse 
 girl, — ^his wife? 
 
 Involuntarily he frowned, for while pity pleaded for the 
 refugee from home and happiness, the man's honest nature 
 scouted all shams, and he acknowledged to himself that 
 "he could never feel . the need of her lips or hands, — could 
 never insult her womanhood, or degrade his own nature, by 
 folding to his heart one whose touch possessed no magnetism, 
 whose presence exerted no spell over his home. 
 
 Salome, his friend, his adopted sister, he wished to dis- 
 ■cover, to claim, , and restore to the household ; but Salome, 
 his wife, — was a monstrous imaginary incubus that appalled 
 and repelled him. 
 
 The difficulties that presented themselves at the outset of 
 his search would have discouraged a less resolute tempera- 
 ment, but it was part of his wise philosophy, that — 
 
 " We overstate the ills of life. We walk upon 
 The shadow of hills across a level thrown, 
 And pant like climbers." 
 
 As a pitying older brother, he thought of Salome's many 
 foibles, — of her noble intentions and ignoble executions, — of 
 her few feeble triumphs, her numerous egregious failures 
 in the line of duty; and loving Christian charity pleaded 
 eloquently for her, whispering to his generous soul, " We 
 know the ships that come with streaming pennons into the 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 447 
 
 immortal ports; but we know little of the shipa that have 
 taken fire on the way thither, — that have gone down at sea." 
 
 What pure friendship could accomplish he would not with- 
 hold, and life at the farm was not so attractive now that he 
 felt regret at the prospect of temporary absence. 
 
 The disappointment that had so rudely smitten to the 
 earth the one precious hope born of his acquaintance with 
 " Solitude," had no power to embitter his nature, — to drape 
 the world in drab, or to shroud the future with gloom; and 
 though his noble face was sadder and paler, Christian faith 
 and resignation rang blessed chimes of peace in heart and 
 soul, and made his life a hallowed labor of love for the 
 needy and grief -stricken. To-day, as he sat alone at the south 
 window, he could overlook the fields of " Grassmere," where 
 the rich promise of golden harvest "filled in all beauty and 
 fulness the emerald cup of the hills," and the waving grain 
 rippled in light and shade like the billows of some distant 
 sunset sea. Basking in the balmy sunshine, and contem- 
 plating his approaching departure for Europe, a sudden long- 
 ing seized him to look once more on the face of Vashti 
 Carlyle, before he bade farewell to his home. 
 
 She was in feeble health, and might not survive his ab- 
 sence, and, moreover, what harm could result from one final 
 visit to "Solitude," — ^from a few parting words to its deso- 
 late mistress ? She had sent a message through Eobert, that 
 she would be glad to see Dr. Grey whenever he could find 
 leisure to call, and now hungty heart and soul cried out 
 savagely, — 
 
 "Why not? Why not?" 
 
 His heavy brows knitted a little, and his mouth grew rigid 
 as iron, but after some moments the lips relaxed, and with 
 a sad, patient smile, he repeated those stirring words of 
 Richter to Herman, — "Suffer like a man the Alp-pressure 
 of fate. Trust yourself upon the broad, shining wings of 
 your faiih, and make them bear you over the Dead Sea, so 
 as not to fall spiritually dead within." 
 
 "No^ no, Ulpian Grey, — ^keep yourself 'unspotted from 
 the world.' Strangle that one temptation which borrows 
 
M8 VNTIL DEATH US DO PABT. 
 
 the garments of an angel of light and mercy, and dogs yon, 
 sleeping and waking. I will see her no more till death snaps 
 her fetters, and I can meet her in the presence of God, who 
 alone can know what separation costs me. May He grant 
 her strength to bear her lonely lot, and give me grace to be 
 patient even unto the end, bringing no reproach on the 
 sacred faith I profess." 
 
 It was the final struggle between love and duty, and though 
 the vanquished heart wailed piteously, exultant conscience, 
 like Jupiter of old, triumphantly applauded, " Evan, evoe ! * 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Wanted! — Information of Salome Owen, who will confer 
 a favor on her friends, and secure a handsome legacy by 
 
 calling at No. ." 
 
 ' " Dr. Grey, for six months this advertisement has appeared 
 every morning in two of the most popular journals in 
 Paris, and as it has elicited no clew to her whereabouts, I 
 am reluctantly compelled to believe that she is no longer 
 in France." 
 
 "Mr. Granville refolded the newspaper, and busied him- 
 self in filling and lighting his meerschaum. 
 
 "By whom was that notice inserted?" 
 
 "By M. de Baillu, the agent and banker of Mr. Minge 
 of Boston, who was warmly and sincerely attached to your 
 protegee, and earnestly endeavored to marry her. When she 
 left Palermo, Mr. Minge came to this city and solicited my 
 aid in discovering her retreat." 
 
 " Pardon me, but why did he apply to you ? " 
 
 " Simply because he knew that I was an old acquaintance, 
 and he had seen me with her, when she first came from 
 America." 
 
 " How did you ascertain her presence in Paris ? " 
 
 "Accidentally; one night, at the opera, whither she ac- 
 companied Professor V , I recognized her, and of course 
 
UNTIL DEATH DS DO PART. 44,9 
 
 made myself known. To what shall I ascribe the honor of 
 this rigid cross-qnestioning ? " 
 
 " To reasons which I shall very freely give you. But 
 first, permit me to beg that you will resume your narrative 
 at the point where I interrupted you. I wish to learn all 
 that can be told concerning Mr. Minge." 
 
 " He was an elderly man of ordinary appearance, but extra- 
 ordinary fortune, and seemed completely fascinated by Sa- 
 lome's beauty. He offered a large reward to the police for 
 any elew that would enable him to discover her, and finally 
 found the physician whom she had consulted with reference 
 to some disease of the throat, which occasioned the loss of 
 her . voice. He had prescribed for her several times, but 
 knew nothing of her lodging-place, as she always called at 
 his office; and finally, without assigning any reason, her 
 visits ceased. Mr. Minge redoubled his exertions, and at 
 last found her in one of the hospitals connected with a con- 
 vent. The Sisters of Charity informed him that one bleak 
 day when the rain was falling drearily, they chanced to see 
 a woman stagger and drop on the pavement before their 
 door, and, hurrying to her assistance, discovered that she 
 had swooned from exhaustion. A bundle of unfinished needle- 
 work was hidden under her shawl, and they soon ascertained 
 that she was delirious from some low typhus fever that had 
 utterly prostrated her. For several weeks she was danger- 
 ously ill, and was just able to sit up when Mr. Minge dis- 
 covered her. He told me that it was distressing and painful 
 beyond expression to witness her humiliation, her wounded 
 pride, her defiant rejection of his renewed offer of marriage. 
 One day he took his sister Constance and a minister of the 
 gospel to the hospital, and implored Salome to become his 
 wife, then and there. He said she wept bitterly, and thanked 
 him, thanked his sister also, but solemnly assured him she 
 could never marry any one, — she would sooner starve in 
 the—" 
 
 "Dr., Grey raised his hand, signalling for silence, and for 
 some moments he leaned his forehead against the chair 
 directly in front of him. 
 29 
 
450 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 Mr. Granville cleared his throat several times, and loosened 
 his neck-tie, which seemed to impede his breathing. 
 
 "Shall I go on? There is little more to tell." 
 
 " If you please, Granville." 
 
 " Mr. Minge vrould not abandon the hope of finally per- 
 suading her to accept his hand, but next day when he called 
 to inquire about her health, and to request the sisters to 
 watch her movements, and prevent her escape, he was shocked 
 to learn that she had disappeared the previous night, leaving 
 a few lines written In pencil on a handkerchief, in which 
 she had wrapped her superb suit of hair. They were ad- 
 dressed to the Sisters of Charity, and briefly expressed her 
 gratitude for their kindness in providing for her wants, while 
 she assured them that as soon as possible she would return 
 and compensate them for their services in her behalf. Mean- 
 time, knowing the high price of hair, she had carefully cut 
 off her own, which was unusually long and thick, and tendered 
 it in part payment. When she was taken into the building, 
 her nurse found concealed in her dress a very elegant watch, 
 bearing her name in diamond letters, and she requested that 
 the sisters would hold it in pawn, until she was able to 
 redeem it. During her illness, it had been locked up, and 
 they supposed she left it, fearing that an application, for 
 it would arouse suspicions of her intended flight. Mr. Minge 
 bought the hair and handkerchief, and, after a liberal remu- 
 neration for their care of the invalid, he took charge of the 
 watch, and left his address to be given her when she called 
 for her property. That her mind had become seriously 
 impaired, there can be little doubt, since nothing but insanity 
 can explain her refusal to accept one of the handsomest 
 estates in America. Unfortunately, a f6w days subsequent 
 to her departure from the hospital, Mr. Minge was taken 
 very violently ill with pneumonia, and died. Conscious of 
 his condition, he prepared a codicil to his will, and be- 
 queathed to Salome twenty-five thousand dollars, and an 
 elegant house and lot in New York City. He exacted from 
 his sister a solemn promise that she would leave no means 
 untried to ferret out the wanderer, to whom he was so de- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 451 
 
 votedly attached; and, should all efforts fail, at the expira- 
 tion of five years the legacy should revert to the hospital 
 ■which had sheltered her in the hour of her destitution. The 
 watch he left with his sister Constance; the hair, he ordered 
 buried with him. Three months have elapsed, and no tidings 
 have reached Miss Minge, who remains in Paris for the. pur- 
 pose of complying with her brother's dying request." 
 
 " My poor, perverse Salome ! To what desperate extremi- 
 ties has she been reduced by her unfortunate wilfulness. 
 Gerard, will you tell me frankly your own conjecture con- 
 cerning her fate ? " 
 
 " If alive, I believe she has left Europe." 
 " Upon what do you base your supposition? " 
 "Mr. Minge was convinced that her attachment to some 
 one in America was the insurmountable barrier to his suc- 
 cess as a suitor; and, if so, she probably returned to her 
 native land. Dr. Grey, I will speak candidly to you of a 
 matter which has doubtless given you some disquiet. Muriel 
 informs me that you have no confidence in the sincerity of 
 my attachment to her, and that upon that fact is founded 
 your, refusal to allow the consummation of our engagement, 
 so long as she , continues your ward. I confess I am not 
 free from cepsure, but, while I have acted weakly7 1 am not 
 devoid of principle. Sir, I was strangely and powerfully at- 
 tracted to Salome Owen, and she exerted- a species of fascina- . 
 tion over me which I scarcely endeavored to resist. In an 
 evil hour, infatuated by her face and her marvellous voice, 
 I was wild enough to offer her my hand, and resolved to ask 
 Muriel to release me. Dr. Grey, even at my own expense, 
 I wish to exonerate Salome, who never for an instant, by 
 word or look, encouraged my madness. She repulsed my 
 advances, refused every attention, and when I rashly uttered 
 words, which, I admit, were treasonable to Muriel, she al- 
 most overwhelmed me with, her fiery contempt and indigna- 
 tion, — threatening to acquaint Muriel with my inconstancy, 
 and appealing to my honor as a gentleman to keep inviolate 
 my betrothal vows. Dr. Grey, if my heart temporarily wan- 
 dered from its allegiance to your ward, it was not Salome's 
 
452 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 fault, for in every respect her conduct towards me was that 
 of a noble, unselfish woman, who scorned to gratify her vanity 
 at the expense of another's happiness. She shamed me out 
 of my folly, and her stern honesty and nobility saved me 
 from a brief and humiliating career of dishonorable duplic- 
 ity. Whether living or dead, I owe this tribute to the pure 
 character of Saloine Owen." 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! I had faith in her. I believed her too 
 generous to stoop to a flirtation with the lover of her friend ; 
 and, deplorable as was your own weakness, I am rejoiced, 
 Gerard, to find that you have conquered it. Tell Murial 
 all that you have confided to me, and in her hands we will 
 leave the decision." 
 
 " Do you intend to prosecute the search which has proved 
 so fruitless ? " 
 
 "I do. She has not returned to America, — she is here 
 somewhere ; and, living or dead, I must and will find her." 
 
 Dr. Grey seemed lost in perplexing thought for some time, 
 then drew a sheet of paper before him, and wrote, " Ulpian 
 Grey wishes to see Salome Owen, in order to communicate 
 some facts which will induce her return to her family; and 
 he hopes she will call immediately at No. Eue ." 
 
 " Gerard, please be so good as to have this inserted in all 
 the leading journals in the city; and give me the address 
 of Mr. Minge's agent." 
 
 At the expiration of a month, spent in the most diligent 
 yet unsuccessful efforts to obtain some information of the 
 wanderer, Dr, Grey began to feel discouraged, — to yield to 
 melancholy forebodings that an untimely death had ended 
 her struggles and suffering. 
 
 Once, while pacing the walks in the Champs-Elysees, he 
 ca.ught a glimpse of a face that recalled Salome's, and started 
 eagerly forward; but it proved that of a Parisian bonne, who 
 was romping with her juvenile charge. 
 
 Again, one afternoon, as he came out of the Church of St. 
 Sulpice, his heart bounded at sight of a woman who leaned 
 against the railing, and watched the play of the fountain. 
 When he approached her and peered eagerly into her coun- 
 
UNTIL DEATH VS DO PART. 453 
 
 tenanee, blue eyes and yellow curls mocked his hopes. One 
 morning, while he walked slowly along the Eue du Faubourg 
 St. Honore, his attention was attracted by the glitter of 
 pretty baubles in the Maison de la Pensee, and he entered 
 the establishment to purchase something for Jessie. 
 
 While waiting for his parcel, a woman came out of a rear 
 apartment and passed into the street, and, almost snatching 
 his package from the counter, he followed. 
 
 A few yards in advance was a graceful but thin figure, 
 clad in a violet-colored muslin, with a rather dingy silk 
 scarf wound around her shoulders. A straw hat, with a 
 wreath of faded pink roses, drooped over, her face, and stream- 
 ers of black lace hung behind, while over the whole she had 
 thrown a thin gray veil. 
 
 Dr. Grey had not seen a feature, but the pose of the shoul- 
 ders, the haughty poise of the head, the quick, nervous, elastic 
 ^tep, and, above all, the peculiar, free, childish swinging of 
 !ihe left arm, made his despondent heart throb with renewed 
 hope. 
 
 Keeping sufficiently near not to lose sight of her, he walked 
 on and on, down cross streets, up narrow alleys, towards a 
 quarter of the city with which he was unacquainted. The 
 woman never looked back, rarely turned her head, even to 
 glance at those who passed her, and only, once she paused 
 before a flower-stall, and seemed to price a bunch of carna- 
 tions, which she smelled, laid down again, and then hurried 
 on. 
 
 Dr. Grey quickly paid for the cluster, and hastened after 
 her. 
 
 In turning a corner, she dropped a small parcel that she 
 had carried under her scarf, and as she stooped to pick it up, 
 her veil floated off. She caught it ere it reached the ground, 
 and when she raised her hands to spread it over her hat, the 
 loose open sleeves of her dress slipped back, and there, on 
 the left arm, was a long, zigzag scar, like a serpentine brace- 
 let. 
 
 With great difficulty Dr. Grey stifled a cry of joy, and 
 waited until she had gained some yards in advance. 
 
454 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 The woman was so absorbed in reverie that she did not 
 notice the steady tram;p' of her pursuer, but as the number 
 of persons on the street gradually diminished, he prudently 
 fell back, fearing lest her suspicion should be excited. 
 
 At a sudden bend in the crooked alley which she rapidly 
 threaded, he lost sight of her, and, running a few yards, he 
 turned the angle just in time to see the flutter of her dress 
 and scarf, as she disappeared through a postern, that opened 
 in a crumbling brick wall. 
 
 Above the gate a battered tin;,sign swung in the wind, and 
 dim letters, almost effaced by elemental warfare, announced, 
 " Adele Aubin, BlancMsseuse." 
 
 Dr. Grey passed through the postern, and found himself in 
 a narrow, dark court, near a tall, dingy, dilapidated house, 
 where a girl ten years of age sat playing with two ragged, un- 
 tidy children. 
 
 It was a dreary, comfortless, uninviting place, and a green- 
 ish slime overspread the lower portions of the wall, and 
 coated the uneven pavement. 
 
 From the girl, who chatted with genuine French volubility 
 and freedom. Dr. Grey learned that her father was an attache 
 of a barber-shop, 'and her mother a washer and renovater 
 of laces and embroideries. The latter was absent, and, in 
 answer to his inquiries, the . child informed' him that an 
 upper room in this cheerless building was occupied by a 
 young female lodger, who held no intercourse with its other 
 inmates. 
 
 Placing a five-franc piece in her hand, the visitor asked the 
 name of the lodger, but the girl replied that she was known 
 to them only as "La Dentelliere," and lived quite alone in 
 the right-hand room at the top of the third flight of stairs. 
 
 The parley had already occupied twenty minutes, when Dr. 
 Grey cut it short by mounting the narrow, winding steps. 
 The atmosphere was close, and redolent of the fumes of dishes 
 not so popular in America as in France, and he saw that the 
 different doors of this old tenement were rented to lodgers who 
 cooked, ate, and slept in the same apartment. At the top of 
 the last dim flight of steps, Dr. Grey paused, almost out of 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 455 
 
 breath; and found himself on a narrow landing-place, front- 
 ing two attic rooms. The one on the right was closed, but 
 as he softly took the bolt in his hand and turned it, there 
 floated through the key-hole the low subdued sound of a 
 sweet voice, humming " Inf slice." 
 
 It was not the deep, rich, melting voice, that had arrested 
 his drive when first he heard it on the beach, but a plaintive, 
 thrilling echo, full of pathos, yet lacking power ; like the notes 
 of birds when moul ting-season ends, and the warblers essay 
 their old strains^ Cautiously he opened the door wide enough 
 to permit him to observe what passed within. 
 
 The room was large, low, and irregularly shaped, with 
 neither fire-place nor stove, and only one dormer window 
 opening to the south, and upon a wide waste of tiled roofs 
 and smoking chimneys. The floor was bare, except a strip 
 of faded carpet stretched in front of a small single bedstead; 
 and the additional furniture consisted of two chairs, a tall 
 table where hung a mirror, and a washstand that held beside 
 bowl and pitcher a candlestick and china cup. On the 
 table were several books, a plate and knife, and a partially 
 opened package disclosed a loaf of bread, some cheese, and an 
 apple. 
 
 In front of the window a piece of plank had been rudely 
 fastened, and here stood two wooden boxes containing a few 
 violets, mignonette, and one very luxuriant rose-geranium. 
 
 The faded blue cambric curtain was twisted into a knot, 
 and as it was now nearly noon, the sun shone in and made 
 a patch of gold on the stained and dusky floor. 
 
 On the bed lay the straw hat, garlanded with roses that had 
 lost their primitive tints, and before the window in a low 
 chair sat the lonely lodger. 
 
 On her knees rested a cushion, across which was stretched 
 a parchment pattern bristling with pins, and with bobbins 
 she was swiftly knitting a piece of gossamer lace, by throwing 
 the fine threads around the pins. 
 
 Over the floor floated her delicate lilac dress, and the sleeves 
 were looped back to escape the forest of pins. 
 
 Dr. Grey had only a three-quarter view of the face that 
 
456 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 bent over the cushion, and though it was sadly altered in 
 every lineament, — was whiter and thinner than he had ever 
 seen it, — ^yet it was impossible to mistake the emaciated 
 features of Salome Owen. 
 
 •The large, handsome head, had been shorn of its crown of 
 glossy braids that once encircled it like a jet tiara, and the 
 short locks. clustered with childlike grace and beauty around 
 the gleaming white brow and temples. 
 
 There was not a vestige of color in the whilom scarlet 
 mouth, whose thin lines were now scarcely perceptible; and, 
 in the finer oval of her cheeks, and along the polished chin, 
 the purplish veins showed their delicate tracery. The hands 
 were waxen and almost transparent, and the figure was wasted 
 beyond the boundaries of symmetry. 
 
 In the knot of ribbon that fastened her narrow linen collar, 
 she had arranged a sprig of mignonette, that now dropped 
 upon the cushion as she bent over it. She paused, brushed it 
 off, and for a few seconds her beautiful hazel eyes were fixed 
 on the blue sky that bordered her window. 
 
 The whole expression of her countenance had changed, and 
 the passionate defiance of other days had given place to a sad, 
 patient hopelessness, touching indeed, when seen on her proud 
 features. Slowly she threw her bobbins, and a fragment oi 
 " Infelice" seemed to drift- across her trembling lips, that 
 showed some lines of bitterness in their timerchiselling. 
 
 As Dr. Grey watched her, tears which he could not restrain 
 trickled down his face, and he was starting forward, when she 
 said, as if communing with her own desolate soul, — . 
 
 "I wonder if I am growing superstitious. Last night I 
 dreamed incessantly of Jessie and home, and totday I cannot 
 help thinking fhat something has happened there. Home! 
 When people no longer have a home, how hard it is to forget 
 that blessed home which sheltered them in the early years. 
 Homeless ! that is the dreariest word that human misery ever 
 conjectured or human language clothed. Never mind, Salome 
 Owen, when God snatched your voice from you, He became 
 responsible; and your claims are like the ravens and spar- 
 rows, and He must provide. , After all, it matters little where 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PAST. 457 
 
 ■we are housed here in the clay, and Hobbs was astute when he 
 selected for the epitaph on his tombstone, ' This is the triM 
 philosopher's stone.' Home! Ah, if I sadly missed mj 
 heart's home, here in the flesh, I shall surely find it up yonder 
 in the blessed land of blue." 
 
 A tear glided down her cheek, glistened an instant on her 
 chin, and fell on her pattern. She brushed it away, and 
 smiled sorrowfully, — 
 
 " It is ill-omened to sprinkle bridal lace with tears. Some 
 day this fine web will droop around a bride's white shoulders 
 and after a time it may serve to deck the cold limbs of some 
 dead child. If I could only have my shroud now, I would not 
 make lace a desideratum; serge -or sackcloth would be wd- 
 come. Patience, — 
 
 ' What if the bread 
 
 Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod 
 To meet the flints ? At least it may be said, 
 Because the way is short, I thank thee, God ! ' " 
 
 She partially rose in her chair, and took from the table » 
 volume of poems. After some search, she found the desired 
 passage, and, rocking herself to and fro, she read it aloud in 
 a, low, measured tone, — 
 
 " O dreary life ! we cry, ' O dreary life I ' 
 And still the generations of the birds 
 Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds 
 Serenely live, while we are keeping strife 
 With heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife 
 Against which we may struggle 1 Ocean girds 
 Unslackened the dry land, savannah-swards 
 Unweary sweep, — hills watch unworn ; and rife 
 Meek leaves drop yearly from the forest-trees, 
 To show above the unwasted stars that pass 
 In their old glory. O thou God of old, 
 Grcmt me some smaller grace than comes to these! 
 But even so much patience, as a blade of grass 
 Grows by, contented through the heat and cold.' " 
 
4:58 VNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 The book slipped from her fingers and fell upon the floor, 
 and with a sob the girl bowed her head in her hands. 
 
 Quickly the intruder glided unseen into the room, and stood 
 it the back of her chair. 
 
 He knew she was praying, and almost breathessly waited 
 several minutes. 
 
 At last she raised her face, and while tears trembled on 
 her lashes, she said meekly, — 
 
 "I ought not to complain and repine. I will be patient 
 and trust God; for I can afford to suffer all through time, 
 provided I may spend eternity with Christ and Dr. Grey." 
 
 " Oh, Salome ! Thank God, we shall be separated neither 
 in time nor in eternity! Dear wanderer, come back to your 
 brother ! " 
 
 He stepped before her, and involuntarily held out his arms. 
 
 She neither screamed nor fainted, but sprang to her feet, 
 and a rapture that beggars all description irradiated her 
 worn, weary, pallid face. 
 
 " Is it really you ? Oh ! a thousand times I have dreamed 
 that I saw you, — stood by you; but when I tried to touch 
 you, there was nothing but empty air ! Oh, Dr. Grey ! — my 
 Dr. Grey ! Am I only dreaming, here in the sunshine^ or is 
 it you bodily ? Did you care for me a little? Did you come 
 to find me f" 
 
 She grasped his arm, swept her hands up and down his 
 sleeve, and then he saw her reel, and shut her eyes, and shud- 
 der. 
 
 "My poor child, I came to Paris solely to hunt for my 
 wayward Salome, and, thank God! I have found her." 
 
 He put his arm around her, and placed her head against 
 his shoulder. 
 
 Ah, how his generous heart ached, as he noted the hungry 
 delight with which her splendid eyes lingered on his features, 
 and the convulsive tenacity with which she clung to him, 
 trembling with excess of joy that brought back carmine to her 
 wasted lips and carnation bloom to her blanched cheeks. 
 
 He heard her whispering, and knew it was a prayer of 
 thanksgiving for the blessing of his presence. 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 459 
 
 But very soon a change came over her sparkling, happy face, 
 like an inky, cloud across a noon sky, and he felt a shiver steal- 
 ing through her form. 
 
 " Let me go ! You said once, that when I came to Europe 
 to enter on my professional career, you wished never to touch 
 my hands again, — you would consider them polluted." 
 
 " Dear Salome, I recant all those harsh, unjust words, 
 which were uttered when I was not fully aware of the latent 
 strength of your character. Since then, I have learned much 
 from Professor V , and from Gerard Granville, that as- 
 sures me my nohle friend is all I could desire her, — that she 
 has grandly conquered her faults, and is worthy of the ad- 
 miration, the perfect confidence, the earnest affection, which 
 her adopted brother offers her. Your pure, true heart makes 
 pure hands, and as such I reverently salute them." 
 
 He took her hands, raised and kissed them respectfully, 
 tenderly. 
 
 She hid her burning face on his bosom, and there was a 
 short pause. 
 
 " Salome, sit down and let me talk to you of home, — your 
 home. Have you no questions to ask about your pet sister 
 and brother ? " 
 
 He attempted to release himself, but she clung to him, and 
 clasping her arms around his neck, said in a strained, husky 
 tone, — 
 
 " Dr. Grey, did you bring your — ^your wife to Paris ? " 
 
 "I have no wife." 
 
 She uttered a thrilling cry of delight, threw her head back, 
 and gazed steadily into his clear, calm, blue eyes. 
 
 " Oh, sir, they told me you had married Mrs. Gerome." 
 
 He placed her in the chair, and kneeling down beside her, 
 took her quivering faee in his palms, and touched her fore- 
 head softly with his lips. 
 
 " The only woman I ever wished to make my wife is bound 
 for life to a worthless husband. Salome, I loved her before I 
 knew this fact; and, since I learned (soon after your de- 
 parture) that she was separated from the man whom she had 
 wedded, I have not seen her, although she still resides at 
 
460 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 * Solitude.' Salome, I shall never marry, and I ask you now 
 to come back to Jessie and Stanley, who will soon require 
 your care and guidance, for it is my intention to return to 
 the position in the II. S. naval service, which only Janet's 
 feeble health induced me to resign. God bless you, dear child ! 
 I wish you were indeed my own sister, for I am growing very 
 proud of my brave, honest friend,-^my patient lace-weaver." 
 
 The girl's head sank lower and lower until it touched her 
 knees, and sobs rendered her words scarcely audible. 
 
 " If you deem me worthy to be called your friend, it is be- 
 cause pf your example, your influence. Oh, Dr. Grey, — but 
 for you, — but for my hope of meeting you in the kingdom 
 of Christ, I shudder to think what I might have been ! Under 
 all circumstances I have been guided by what I imagined 
 ■would have been your wishes, — your advice ; and my reward is 
 rich indeed ! Your confidence, your approbation ! Earth 
 holds no recompense half so precious." 
 
 " Thank God ! my prayers have been abundantly answered, 
 my highest hopes of your future fully realized. Henceforth, 
 let us with renewed energy labor faithfully in the vast, whiten- 
 ing fields of Him who declares, ' The harvest is plentiful, but 
 the laborers are few.' " 
 
 " O human soul I as long as thou canst so 
 Set up a mark of everlasting light, 
 Above the howling senses' ebb and flow, 
 To cheer thee and to right thee if thou roam, 
 Not with lost toil thou laborest through the night, 
 Thou makest the heaven thou hopest indeed thy home." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 " Watchman McDonough reports that late last nighl. he 
 picked up, on the sidewalk, the insensible body of Maurice 
 Carlyle, who showed some signs of returning animation after 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 461 
 
 Ms removal to Station House No. . A physician was 
 
 called in, and every effort made to save the unfortunate victim 
 of intemperance ; but medical skill was inadequate to arrest 
 the work of many years of excess, and before daylight the 
 wretched man expired in dreadful convulsions. Coroner 
 BoutweU held an inquest on the body, and the verdict ren- 
 dered was * Death from mania a potu.' Mr. Carlyle was well 
 known in this city, where for many years he was an ornament 
 to society, and a general favorite in the fashionable and 
 mercantile circle in which he moved. Of numbers who were 
 once the recipients of his bounty and hospitality, none offered 
 succor in the hour of adversity, and among all his former 
 friends none were found to cheer or pity in the last ordeal to 
 which flesh is subjected. The melancholy fate of Maurice 
 Carlyle furnishes another illustration of the mournful truth 
 that the wages of intemperance are destitution and deser- 
 tion." 
 
 Such was the startling announcement, which, under the 
 head of " Police Eeport," Dr. Grey read and re-read in & 
 prominent New York paper that had accidentally remained 
 for some days unopened on his desk, and was dated nearly 
 a month previous. Locking the door of his ofBce, he sat 
 down to collect his bewildered thoughts, and to quiet the tu- 
 mult in his throbbing heart. ^ 
 
 During the two years that had drearily worn away since 
 his last interview with Mrs. Carlyle, he had sternly forbidden 
 his mind to dwell on its brief dream of happiness, and by 
 a life of unusually active benevolence endeavored to forget 
 the one episode which alone had power to disquiet and sadden 
 him. 
 
 He had philosophically schooled himself to the calm, un- 
 murmuring acceptance of his lonely destiny, and looked for- 
 ward to a life solitary yet not uiihappy, although uncheered 
 by the love and companionship which every man indulges the 
 instinctive hope will sooner or later crown his existence. 
 
 Now heart and conscience, so long at deadly feud, suddenly 
 signalled a truce, clas,ped hands, embraced cordially. How 
 radiant the world looked,— with what wondrous glory the 
 
462 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 future had in the twinkling of an eye robed itself. The 
 woman he had loved was stainless and free, and how could 
 she long resist the pleadings of his famished heart ? 
 
 He would win her from cynicism and isolation, would melt 
 her frozen nature in the genial atmosphere of his pure and 
 constant affection, and interweave her aimless, sombre life 
 with the busy, silvery web of his own. 
 
 After forty, years, God would grant him home, and wife, 
 and hearthstone peace. 
 
 What a flush and sparkle stole to this gr&ve man's olive 
 cheek, and calm, deep blue eyes ! 
 
 Ah ! how hungrily he longed for the touch of her hand, the 
 sight of her face ; and, snatching his hat, he put the paper in 
 his pocket, and hurried towards " Solitude." 
 
 In the holy hush of that hazy autumnal afternoon, nature — 
 Magna Mater, — 
 
 •' The altar-curtains of whose hills 
 Are sunset's purple air," 
 
 " Who dips in the dim light of setting suns 
 The spacious skirts of that vast robe of hers 
 That widens ever in the wondrous west," 
 
 seemed slumbering and dreaming away the day. 
 
 The forests were gaudy in iheir painted shrouds of scarlet 
 and yellow. leaves, and long, feathery flakes of purple bloom 
 npdded over crimson berries, emerald mosses, and golden- 
 hearted asters. 
 
 Only a few weeks previous. Dr. Grey had driven along that 
 road, and, while the echo of harvest hmyns rang on the hay- 
 scented air, had asked himself how men and women could 
 become so completely absorbed in temporal things, ignoring 
 the solemn and indisputable fact of the brevity of human life 
 and the restricted dominion of man, — 
 
 " Whose part in all the pomp that fills 
 The circuit of the summer hilla 
 Is, that his grave is green." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 463 
 
 But to-day all sober-hued reflections were exorcised by the 
 rapturous Jubilate that hope was singing through the sunlit 
 chambers of his happy heart ; and when he entered the grounds 
 of " Solitude " they seemed bathed in that soft glamour, that 
 witching " light that never was on sea or land." 
 
 As he sprang from his buggy and opened the little gate 
 leading into the parterre, Eobert came slowly forward, bearing 
 a basket filled with a portion of the crimson apples that 
 flushed the orchard, just beyond the low hedge, 
 
 "You could not have chosen a better time to come, Dr. 
 Grey ; and if I were allowed to have my way you would have 
 been here last night. Were you sent for at last, or was it a 
 lucky chance that brought you ? " 
 
 "Merely an accident, as I received no summons. Eobert, 
 how is your mistress ? " 
 
 "God only knows, sir; I am sure I never can tell how she 
 really is. She has not seemed well since she took that journey 
 to the North, and for two weeks past she appears to have been 
 slipping down by inches into her grave. She neither eats nor 
 sleeps, and for the last three nights has not lain down, — so 
 old Euth, the housekeeper, tells me. Yesterday I begged my 
 mistress to let me go for you, but she smiled that awful freez- 
 ing smile that strikes to the very marrow of my bones, worse 
 than December sleet, — and raised her finger so : and said, ' At 
 your peril, Eobert. Mind your orchard, man, and I will take 
 care of myself. I want neither doctors nor nurses, and only 
 desire that you, and Euth, and Anna, will attend to your 
 respective duties and let me be quiet. All will soon be well 
 with me.' I killed a partridge, had it nicely broiled, and car- 
 ried it to her; and she thanked me, and made a pretence of 
 eating the wing, just to please me; but when the waiter was 
 taken away to the kitchen, I found all the bird on the plate. 
 This morning, just before daylight, I heard her playing a 
 wild, mournful thing on the piano, that sounded like a dirge 
 or a wail ; and Euth says when she went into the parlor to 
 open the blinds, she found her praying, and thinks she was 
 on her knees for an hour. Please God! sometimes I wish she 
 
464 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 was in heaven with my mother, for she will never see anj 
 peace in this life." 
 " What seems to be the disease ? " 
 " Heart-ache." 
 
 " You should have come and told me this long ago." 
 "And pray to what purpose, Dr. Grey? She vowed she 
 would allow no human being to cross her threshold, except 
 the servants, and I would sooner undertake to curl a steel, or 
 make ringlets out of a pair of tongs, than bend her will when 
 once she takes a stand. Humph! My mistress is no willow 
 wand, and is about as easily moved as the chureh-steeple,'OT 
 the stone-tower of the lighthouse." 
 
 "Has she recently received letters that contained tidings 
 which excited or distressed her ? " 
 
 " A letter came last week, but I know nothing of its con- 
 tents. You need not go into the house if you wish to find her, 
 for about an hour and a half ago I saw her come out into the 
 grounds, and she never goes in till the lamps are lighted." 
 
 An anxious look clouded for an instant Dr. Grey's 'Coun- 
 tenance, but undaunted hope sang on of the hours of hallowed 
 communion that the future held, while in her invalid condi- 
 tion he assumed the care and guardianship of his beloved; 
 and, turning into the lawn, he eagerly searched the winding 
 walks for some trace of her, some flutter of her garments, 
 some faint, subtle odor of orange-flowers or tube-roses. 
 
 Here and there clusters of purple, pink, and orange crysan- 
 themums flecked the lawn with color; and a flower-stand, 
 covered with china jars that held geraniums, seemed almost a 
 pyramid of flame, from the profusion of scarlet blooms. 
 
 The sun had gone down behind a waving line of low hills, 
 where, — 
 
 " Thinned to amber, rimmed with silver, 
 Clouds in the distance dwell, 
 Clouds that are cool, for all their color. 
 
 Pure as a rose-lipped shell. 
 Fleets of wool in the upp«r heavens 
 
 Grossamer wings unfurl ; 
 Sailing so high they seem but sleeping 
 Over yon bar of pearl." 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 465 
 
 Still as crystal was the sapphire sea that mirrored that 
 quiet, sapphire sky, and not a murmur, not a ripple, stirred 
 the evening air or the yellow sands that stretched for miles 
 alo&g the winding coast. 
 
 When Dr. Grey had partially crossed the lawn, he glanced 
 towards the marble temple that gleamed against the dark 
 background of deodars, and saw a woman sitting on the steps 
 of the tomb. Softly he approached and entered the mauso- 
 leum by an arch on the opposite side, but, notwithstanding 
 his cautious tread, he startled a white pigeon that had perched 
 on the altar, where fresh violets, heliotrope, and snowy sprigs 
 of nutmeg-geranium were leaning over the scallopped edge of 
 the Venetian glasses, and distilling perfume in their delicate 
 chalices. 
 
 Mrs. Carlyle had brought her floral tribute to the sepul- 
 chral urn, and, having carefully arranged her daily Arkja, 
 had seated herself on the steps to rest. 
 
 Prom the two sentinel poplars that guarded the front, 
 golden leaves were sifting down on the marble floor, and 
 three or four had drifted upon the lap of the quiet figure, 
 while one, bright and rich as autumn gilding, could make it, 
 rested like a crown on the silver waves that covered her head. 
 
 Down the shining steps trailed the foldsof the white merino 
 robe, and around her shoulders was wrapped the blue crape 
 shawl, while a cluster of violets seemed to have slipped from 
 her fingers, and strewed themselves at random on her dress. 
 
 Softly Dr. Grey drew near, and his voice was tremulously 
 tender, as he said, — 
 
 " Mrs. Carlyle, no barrier divides us now." 
 
 She did not speak, or turn her queenly head, and he laid 
 his hand caressingly on the glistening gray hair. 
 
 " My darling-, my first and only love — ^my brave, beautiful 
 ' Agla,' may I not tell you, at last, what conscience once for- 
 bade my uttering ? " 
 
 As motionless and silent as the sculptured poppies above 
 her, she took no notice of his passionate pleading, and 
 he sprang down one step directly in front of her. 
 
 The white face was turned to the sea, and the large, wid», 
 30 
 
466 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 wonderfully lovely yet mournful gray eyes were gazing fixedly 
 across the waste of water, at a filmy cloud as fine as lace, that 
 like a silver netting caught the full October moon which was 
 lifting itself in the pearly east. 
 
 The long black lashes did not droop, nor the steady eyes 
 waver, and with a horrible foreboding Dr. Grey seized her 
 hands. They were rigid and icy. He stooped, caught her to 
 his bosom, and pressed his lips to hers, but they were colder 
 than the marble column against which she leaned; for, one 
 hour before, Vashti Carlyle had fronted her God-. 
 
 Alone in the autumn evening, sitting there with the golden 
 poplar leaves drifting over her, the desolate woman had held 
 her last communion with the watching ocean that hushed its 
 murmuring, to see her die; and, laying down the galling, 
 burden of her sunless, dreary life, she had joyfully and serenly 
 " put on immortality " in that everlasting rest, where " there 
 was no more sea, no more death, neither shall there be any 
 more pain, for the former things are passed away." 
 
 Ah ! beautiful and holy was — 
 
 " That peaceful face wherein all past distress 
 Had melted into perfect lovelinesB." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 Since that October day when Ulpian Grey sat on the steps 
 of the tomb, holding in his arms the beautiful white form, 
 whom in life God had denied him the' privilege of touching, 
 six months had drifted slowly; yet time had not softened the 
 blow, that, while almost crushing his tender, unselfish heart, 
 had no power to shake the faith which was so securely an- 
 chored in Christ. 
 
 Among the papers found in Mrs. Carlyle's desk was one con- 
 taining the request that Dr. Grey would superintend the erec- 
 tion, of a handsome monument over the remains of her hus- 
 
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 467 
 
 band, whenever and wherever he chanced to die; and her will 
 provided that her fortune should be appropriated as the 
 nucleus of a relief fund for indigent painters. 
 
 Her own pictures, to which she had carefully aflBxed in 
 delicate violet ciphers the name " Agla," she directed placed 
 on exhibition in a New York gallery, and ultimately sold for 
 the benefit of the orphans of artists. To Eobert she be- 
 queathed a sum sufficient to maintain him in ease and com- 
 fort ; and to Dr. Grey her escritoire, piano, books, and the sap- 
 phire ring she had always worn. 
 
 The latter was found in the silver casket, and had been 
 folded in a sheet of paper containing these words, — 
 
 " According to the teachings of the Buddhists, ' the sap- 
 phire produces equanimity and peace of mind, as well as 
 affording protection against envy and treachery. It produces 
 also prayer and reconciliation with the Godhead, and brings 
 more peace than any other gem of necromancy; but he who 
 would wear it must lead a pure and holy life.' Finding my 
 sapphire asp mockingly inefficacious in its traditional talis- 
 manic powers, I conclude that my melancholy career has' been 
 a violation of the stipulated condition, and therefore bequeath 
 it to the only human being whom I deem worthy to wear it 
 with any hope of success." 
 
 While awaiting orders from the naval department, Dr. Grey 
 purchased " Solitude," whither he removed, with Muriel and 
 Miss Dexter, and temporarily established himself, until the 
 arrival of Mr. Granville. 
 
 Immediately after her return from Europe, Salome invested 
 a portion of Mr. Minge's legacy in the site of the old mill 
 that had fallen to ruin. Here she built a small but tasteful 
 cottage orne on the spot where her father had died, and here, 
 with Jessie and Stanley, she proposed to spend her winters; 
 while Mark and Joel were placed at the " Grassmere Parm," 
 a mile distant, and entrusted with its management until the 
 younger children should attain their majority. 
 
 Too proud to accept the home which Dr. Grey had tendered 
 her, Salome was earnestly endeavoring to imitate the noble 
 example of self-abnegation that lifted him so far above all 
 
468 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 others •rhom she had ever known ; and the most precious hope 
 of her life was to reach that exalted excellence which alone 
 could compel his admiration and respect. 
 
 From the day of Mrs. Carlyle's death, the orphan had been 
 a comparatively happy woman, for jealousy could not invade 
 or desecrate the grave and its harmless sleeper; and Salome 
 fervently thanked God, that, since she was denied the blessing 
 of Dr. Grey's love, at least she had been spared the torture 
 of seeing him the fond husband of another. , 
 
 Time had deepened, but refined, purified, and consecrated 
 her unconquerable affection for the only man who, had ever 
 commanded her reverence, and whose quiet influence had so 
 happily remoulded her wayward, fiery nature. 
 
 There were seasons when the old element pf innate perver- 
 sity re-asserted itself, but the steady reproving gaze of his 
 clear, true eyes, or the warning touch of his hajid on her head, 
 had sufficed to still the rising storm. 
 
 Conscientiously the passionate, exacting woman was striv- 
 ing to bring her heart and life into subjection to the law, — in- 
 to conformity with the precepts of Christ ; and though she 
 was impulsive, proud Salome still, — ^the glaring blemishes in 
 her character were gradually disappearing. 
 
 One bright balmy spring morning previous to the day ap- 
 pointed for Muriel's marriage, and for her guardian's de- 
 parture for the fleet in Asiatic waters, where he had been as- 
 signed to duty, Dr. Grey drove up the avenue of elms and 
 maples that led to Salome's pretty villa; and as he ascended 
 the steps, Jessie sprang into his arms, and almost smothered 
 him with caresses. 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! something so wonderful has happened,-^ 
 you never could guess, and I am as happy as a bee in a wood- 
 bine. Sister will tell you." 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 " In the parlor, waiting for you." 
 
 The child ran off to join Stanley, who was trying a new 
 pony in the yard, and Dr. Grey went into the cool fragrant 
 room, which was fitted up with more taste than in earlier 
 years he would have ascribed to its owner. 
 
UNTIL DEATH ViS DO PART. 469 
 
 Salome sat\ before the open piano, and at his entrance raised 
 her face, which had been bowed almost to the ivory keys. 
 
 " Good morning. Dr. Grey. I am glad you have ccme to 
 rejoice with me, and I was just thanking God for the unex- 
 pected restoration of my voice. Once when it seemed so neces- 
 sary to me. He suddenly took it from me; and now, when 
 it is a mere luxtiry to own it. He as unexpectedly giveo it to 
 me once more. Verily, — strange as it may appear, my voice 
 
 is really better than when Professor V pronounced it 
 
 the first contralto in Europe." 
 
 She had risen to greet him, and as he retained her hand in 
 his, she stood close to him, looking earnestly into his face. 
 
 There were tears hanging like tremulous dewdrops on the 
 long jet under-lash6s, — and the bright red in her polished 
 cheeks, and the crimson curves of her parted lips made a pic- 
 ture pleasant to contemplate. 
 
 "My dear child, I do indeed cordially congratulate you. 
 God saw that your voice might possibly prove a snare and a 
 curse, by ministering, to false pride and exaggerated vanity, 
 and in mercy and wisdom He temporarily deprived you of an 
 instrument that threatened you with danger. Now that you 
 are stronger, more prudent, and patient. He trusts you again 
 with one of the choicest blessings that can be conferred on a 
 woman. You have deserved to. recover it, and I joyfully unite 
 my thanks with yours. Let me hear your voice once more." 
 
 Trembling with excess of happiness , she sat down and sang 
 feelingly, eloquently, her favorite " mon Fernand : " and, 
 as he listened, Dr. Grey looked almost wonderingly at the 
 beautiful flashing face, that had never seemed half so radiant 
 before. There was marvellous witchery in her rich round flex- 
 ible tones, that wound into the holy-of-holies of the man's 
 great heart, and elevated his thoughts above the dross arid 
 dust of earth. 
 
 When she ended, he placed his soft palm tenderly on her 
 head, and smoothed the glossy hair. 
 
 "I thank you inexpressibly. Sometimes when sad mem- 
 ories oppress me, how I shall long to have you charm them 
 away by that magical spell that bears my thoughts from this 
 
470 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART. 
 
 world to the next. There are some songs which you must 
 learn for my sake." 
 
 Ah! at that moment, as she stood there robed in a soft 
 stainless white muslin, with a cluster of double pomegranate 
 .flowers glowing in her silky hair, the girl was very lovely, 
 very attractive, so full of youthful grace, so winning in her 
 beautiful enthusiasm, — yet Ulpian Grey's heart did not wan- 
 der for an instant from one who slept dreamlessly under the 
 sculptured urn on the marble altar of the mausoleum. 
 
 " Why are the dead not dead ? Who can undo 
 What time hath done ? Who can win back the wind ? 
 Beckon lost music from a broken lute ? 
 Renew the redness of a last year's rose 7 
 Or dig the sunken sunset from the deep ? " 
 
 " Dr. Grey, if my voice can chase away one vexing thought, 
 one wearying care or melancholy memory, I shall feel that 
 I have additional reason to thank God for the precious gift." 
 
 "I have not seen you look so happy for three years. In- 
 deed, my little sister, you have much for which to be grateful, 
 and in the midst of your blessings try to recollect those grand 
 words of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, ' The soul is a God in 
 exile.' My child, look to it that your expatriation ends with 
 the shores of time, for — 
 
 ' Yea, this is life ; make this forenoon sublime, 
 This afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, 
 And time is conquered, and thy crown is won.' " 
 
 . For some seconds Salome did not speak, for the shadow on 
 his countenance fell upon her heart, and looking reverently 
 up at him, she thought of Eiehter's mournful dictum, — 
 "Great souls attract sorrows, as mountains tempests." 
 
 " Dr. Grey, want of patience is the cause of half my diffi- 
 culties and defeats, and plunges me continually into the 
 etough of distrust and rebellious questioning. I find it so hard 
 
UNTIL DEATB US DO PART. 471 
 
 to stand still, and let God do his will, and work in his own 
 way." 
 
 "My dear Salome, patience is only practical faith, and 
 the want of it causes two-thirds of the world's woes. I often 
 find it necessary to humble my own pride, and tame my rest- 
 less spirit by recurring to the last words of Schiller, * Calmer 
 and calmer! many difficult things are growing plain and clear 
 to me. Let us be patient.' Child, sing me one song more, and 
 then come out and show me where you propose to place those 
 grape-arbors we spoke of yesterday. This is the last oppor- 
 tunity I shall have to direct your workmen." 
 
 An hour later Salome fastened a sprig of Grand Duke jas- 
 mine in the button-hole of his coat, — shook hands with him 
 for the day, and though she smiled in recognition of his 
 final bow as he drove down the avenue, her thoughts were 
 busy with the dreaded separation that awaited her on the 
 morrow and, while her lips were mute, the cry of her heart 
 was, — . 
 
 " O Beloved, it is plain 
 I am not of thy worth, nor for thy place. 
 And yet because I love thee, I obtain 
 From that same love this vindicating grace. 
 To live on still in love, — and yet in vain,— 
 To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face. 
 
 Dr. Grey spent the remainder of the day in visiting his 
 patients, and as he rode from cottage to hovel, bidding adieu 
 to those whose lives had so often been committed to his pro- 
 fessional guardianship, he was received with tearful eyes, and 
 trembling hands; and numerous benedictions were invoked 
 upon his head. 
 
 Silver threads were beginning to weave an aureola in his 
 chestnut hair, and the smooth white forehead showed in- 
 cipient furrows, but the deep blue eyes were as tranquil and 
 trusting as of yore, and full of tenderer light for the few he 
 loved, for all in suffering and bereavement. 
 
 With a sublime and increasing faith in the overruling wis- 
 dom and mercy of God, he patiently and hopefully bore his 
 
472 UNTIL DEATH US DO PART- 
 
 loneliness and grievous loss,— comforting himself with the as- 
 surance that, " the evening of life brings with it its lamp ; " 
 and looking eagle-eyed across the storm-drenched plain of the 
 present to the gleaming jasper walls of the Eternal Beyond. 
 
 "My wine has run 
 
 Indeed out of my cup, and there is none 
 To gather up the bread of my repast 
 Scattered and trampled, — yet I find some good 
 Tn earth's green herbs, and streams that bubble up, 
 Clear from the darkling ground, — content until 
 I sit with angels before better food. 
 Dear Christ 1 when thy new vintage fills my cup, 
 This hand shall shake no more, nor that wine spill." 
 
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 One Way Trail, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 Otherwise Phyllis. By Meredith Nicholson. 
 
 Pardners. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Parrott & Co. By Harold MacGratli. 
 
 Partners of tlie Tide. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Passionate Friends, The. By H. G. Wells. 
 
 Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail, The. By Ralph Connor. 
 
 Paul Anthony, Christian. By Hiram W. Hayes. 
 
 Perch of the Devil. By Gertrude Atherton. 
 
 Peter Ruff. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 People's Man, A. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 PhilUp Steele. By James Oliver Curwood. 
 
 Pidgin Island. By Harold MacGrath. 
 
 Place of Honeymoon, The. By Harold MacGrath. 
 
 Plunderer, The. By Roy Norton. 
 
 Pole Baker. By Will N. Harben. 
 
 Pool of Flame, The. By Louis Joseph Vance. 
 
 Port of Adventure, The. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. 
 
 Postmaster, The. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Power and the Glory, The. By Grace McGowan Cooke. 
 
 Prairie Wife, The. By Arthur Stringer. 
 
 Price of Love, The. By Arnold Bennett. 
 
 Price of the Prairie, The. By Margaret Hill McCarter. 
 
 Prince of Sinners. By A. E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Princes Passes, The. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. 
 
 Princess Virginia, The. By C. N. and A. N. Williamson. 
 
 Promise, The. By J. B. Hendryx. 
 
 Purple Parasol, The. By Geo. B. McCutcheon. 
 
 Ranch at the Wolverine, The. By B. M. Bower. 
 Ranching for Sylvia. By Harold Bindloss. 
 Real Man, The. By Francis Lynde. 
 Reason Why, The. By Elinor Glyn. 
 
Popular Copyright Novels 
 
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 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copsrright Fiction 
 
 Red Cross Girl, The. By Richard Harding Davis. 
 Red Mist, The. By Randall Parrish. 
 Redemption of Kenneth Gait, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 Red Lane, The. By Holman Day. 
 Red Mouse. The. By Wm. Hamilton Osborne. 
 Red Pepper Burns. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The. By Anne Warner. 
 Return of Tarzan, The. By Edgar Rice Burroughs. 
 Riddle of Night, The. By Thomas W. Hanshew. 
 Rim of the Desert, The. By Ada Woodruff Anderson. 
 Rise of Roscoe Paine, The. By J. C. Lincoln. 
 Road to Plrovidence, The. By Maria Thompson Daviess, 
 Robinetta. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. 
 Rocks of Valpre, The. By Ethel M. Dell. 
 Rogue by Compulsion, A. By Victor Bridges. 
 ' Rose in the Ring, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. 
 Rose of the World. By Agnes and Egerton Castle. 
 Rose of Old Harpeth, The. By Maria Thompson Daviess. 
 Round the Corner in Gay Street. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 Routledige Rides Alone. By Will L. Comfort. 
 
 St, Elmo. (111. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. 
 Salamander, The. By Owen Johnson. 
 Scientific Sprague. By Francis Lynde. 
 Second Violin, The. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 Secret of the Reef, The. By Harold Bindloss. 
 Secret History. By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. 
 Self-Raised. (111.) By Mrs. Southworth. 
 Septimiis. By William J. Locke. 
 Set in Silver. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. 
 Seven Darlings, The. By Gouverneur Morris. 
 Shea of the Irish Brigade. By Randall Farrish. 
 Shepherd of the Hills, The. By Harold Bell Wright, 
 Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The. By Ridgwell CuUum. 
 Sign at Six, The. By Stewart Edw. White. 
 SUver Horde, The. By Rex Beach. 
 Simon the Jester. By William J. Locke. 
 Siren of the Snows, A. By Stanley Shaw. 
 Sir Richard Calmady. By Lucas Malet. 
 Sixty-First Second, The. By Owen Johnson, 
 Slim Princess, The. By George Ade.