'IJ! ' 
 
 
 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 3364.Y778B4 
 
 Beholding as in a glass :a novel /by V r 
 
 3 1924 022 230 662 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022230662 
 
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"BEHOLDING AS IN 
 A GLASS." 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 HV 
 
 MRS. VIRGINIA D. YOUNG. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 
 Copley Square, 
 
 1895. 
 

 /\<^X$^SJ 
 
 Copyrighted, 1895, 
 By Mrs. Virginia D, Young. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It was afternoon, dear reader, and she to whom 
 I wish to introduce you was making a railway- 
 journey ; and being very tired, on this her second 
 day, was trying to get herself into a comfortable 
 position to take a nap. 
 
 I don't know that you would have singled her 
 out if you had been a fellow-passenger, for she 
 was not a person to attract attention by beauty, 
 nor dress, nor arts of speech or manner ; and as 
 your eyes follow mine your cool, critical judgment 
 is amazed that I should select such a heroine, and 
 you recall your lessons in rhetoric, and remind me 
 of the " three unities " that should govern a writer 
 in the treatment of a romance, and ask, " Is not one 
 of these a beautiful shell or body for the spirit 
 that is to take precedence in the ' goodlie com- 
 panie' the romancer means to invoke ? " 
 
 But what if these " unities " are sometimes at 
 variance with nature, and what if experience dem- 
 onstrates that the central figure in a great drama 
 
4 SEHOLDING AS tN A GLASS. 
 
 may be as to body like the unlovely skin bottle 
 which preserves the pure wine from fermentation ? 
 
 Have you never found yourself drawn power- 
 fully to those lacking beauty of form, complexion, 
 or feature ? 
 
 Who was it of whom the prophet wrote — " He 
 hath no form, nor comeliness ; and when we shall 
 see him, there is no beauty that we should desire 
 him " ? 
 
 What is the body but clothing for the soul, and 
 what is clothing but (in the language of " Sartor 
 Resartus"), "a moving rag-screen, overheaped 
 with shreds and tatters, raked from the charnel- 
 house of nature " ? 
 
 The man who wrote " Sartor Resartus " is him- 
 self a case in point — the greatest man in Europe, 
 upon whom the world fixed its regards, yet he 
 was the homeliest of men. 
 
 Mr. Moncure D. Conway has a fine description of 
 the "blue brilliancy of his eyes " and the " illumina- 
 tion " of his face, on that day at Edinburgh Uni- 
 versity, when, having been invested with the Lord 
 Rector's robes, he tossed aside this insignia, as 
 impeding, and stood forth to speak, transfigured 
 into that soul-beauty which body nor clothes 
 can give. 
 
 The sunlight of love transmogrified this chest- 
 nut-burr, and changed the gall exuding from this 
 tongue into oil and balm. 
 
 But you tap me on the arm and remind me that 
 Carlyle was a man, and that homeliness in a woman 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 5 
 
 is much less endurable — besides confounding all 
 the unities of time, place and circumstances to 
 which she opposes the stumbling-block of unex- 
 pectedness, and becomes, as it were, " smoke to 
 the eyes and vinegar to the teeth." But what 
 do you think of the Mrs. Browning type for a 
 heroine ? You recollect a certain author, exceed- 
 ingly popular some years ago, an encyclopedia of 
 learning, in fact, who had a custom of remanding 
 us (for facial descriptions of her heroines), to the 
 classics ; — as, for instance, " Such a face confronted 
 Golden Fleece Jason from the rhododendrons of 
 Crete," or " On cameo and marble dwell the dainty 
 mouldings of that oval cheek, the airy arched 
 tracery of those brows, the straight slender nose 
 and clearly defined cleft of the rounded chin — in 
 brief, the face was one of the Frate's heavenly 
 visions." 
 
 I might say my heroine was " like a mist that 
 changed according to being shone on, more or 
 less ! " At any rate the woman, whose struggle 
 with life I shall endeavor to depict, if no Greek 
 beauty, or odalisque of the Orient, had something 
 about her suggestive of Mrs. Browning — was small 
 like her, dark of eyes and sweet of voice, a voice 
 remarkable in that its inflections reflected every 
 shade of her varying moods. 
 
 There were not many people on the train that 
 day — half a dozen men, perhaps, a lady with chil- 
 dren who kept fussing over bits of stale luncheon 
 out of a yellow leather hand-bag, and an old woman 
 
6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 whose seamed face bore testimony to having seen 
 " a sight o' trouble." 
 
 But there was one passenger who had discovered 
 something very interesting in the young woman, 
 whose name I may as well say was Vivia Lemuir. 
 He sat opposite, and could glance at her without 
 embarrassing by a marked regard. He was a 
 student of human nature, which may account for 
 the fact that he, at a glance, singled her out as 
 singular. 
 
 She was not munching food as women so gener- 
 ally do on trains, she didn't fuss with the windows, 
 she didn't stare at other passengers. She read a 
 well-worn book, the title of which he made out 
 to be " Romola," and had another, in soft leather 
 cover, which she studied from time to time, and 
 at which he actually started when he perceived it 
 to be a Bible ! 
 
 Dr. Charles Evans was a cultured gentleman who 
 had travelled much, and had a way of keeping the 
 world at arm's length, being very independent of 
 it, and concentrating his mind on his profession ; 
 tender as a mother to the sick, but rather indiffer- 
 ent to well people. 
 
 Yet this polished man of the world, as he ap- 
 peared, now kept turning his handsome hazel eyes 
 on the unpretty creature, whose air and expression 
 so thoroughly conveyed the idea of fatigue and 
 heart-sinking. Indeed, isolation and long fasting 
 had done their work with her. Kind hands had pro- 
 vided a bountiful lunch when she was starting out 
 
Beholding as in a glass. 7 
 
 upon her journey, but the remnants of biscuit and 
 chicken were now dry and untempting, and she 
 had given away to children on the train the fruit 
 (apples and grapes) which had weighed down her 
 box of eatables. 
 
 Hoping to sleep, she now rolled up her shabby 
 cloak for a pillow, but even with this added could 
 not rest. In twisting about she caught sight, out 
 of the corner of her eye, of the gentleman op- 
 posite, and her ready fancy was soon busy con- 
 cerning him. She noticed the contour of his 
 nobly-shaped head, the grandeur of his broad, 
 high forehead. He was well dressed, all his be- 
 longings handsome and in order. With the in- 
 evitable suggestion of contrast, her thoughts came 
 back to her own poor little pasteboard bandbox, 
 so unsuitable from its batterable nature to travel 
 with, and that horrid old red carpet-bag, that had 
 belonged to her sister's husband in his heyday, 
 now much the worse for wear and tear. 
 
 Poor little Vivia suddenly felt a distaste for 
 life from having to face it in such unkempt 
 form. Tears stole into her closed eyes, and in 
 her sudden deep despair her frail form shook. 
 The tears relieved the heated brain, however, and 
 she sank into an uneasy slumber. 
 
 She was awakened by a violent jar and crash, 
 and in an instant had all her senses at command. 
 She ran to the door of the coach and there beheld 
 a scene of ruin, for the entire train (save the coach 
 in which she was), lay in the mud of the swamp. 
 
8 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 and from the smashed debris came dreadful shrieks 
 and moans. 
 
 The man who had had her last waking thought 
 was just climbing down before her when she 
 said : " O please, sir, lend me your hand a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 Dr. Evans looked at her remonstrantly, say- 
 ing, " Go back into the coach ; you are in no 
 danger." 
 
 " But I am going to help those poor people. O 
 my Lord, have mercy upon them ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, you can't help them ; you'll get 
 your feet wet." 
 
 For reply she jumped down and alighted beside 
 him in the oozy mud. Here her slight weight 
 stood her in good stead, for she did not sink in 
 the mire, and the stout doctor did. 
 
 The brakeman of the car was before them with 
 his axe, gazing stupidly on the wreck, not know- 
 ing what to do. Dr. Evans snatched the axe, and 
 with a few well-directed blows made an opening 
 in the side of the nearest car, from which rolled 
 out a fat man who filled the air with sulphurous 
 ejaculations. Then came a woman, holding tight 
 to her baby, crying out that it was dead. Vivia 
 took the child, examined it carefully, and assured 
 the mother it was only stunned. 
 
 Dr. Evans, who was helping to get the people 
 out, heard her and handed her his pocket-case, from 
 which she selected a vial of ammonia, applied it 
 to the little one's nostrils, causing it to sneeze, 
 
£EH0L£>ING as in a GLASS. 9 
 
 turn red in the face and cry. Vivia helped the 
 woman into the uninjured coach, handed her the 
 baby, and went back to aid others. 
 
 One man had been killed by the stove falling 
 upon him, but fortunately there was no fire in it, 
 so there was no conflagration. 
 
 The engineer was unrecognizable save by his 
 clothes, and the conductor had had both legs 
 broken, and one had to be amputated. 
 
 A broken culvert had caused the catastrophe, 
 the engine first pitching over, and all the boxes 
 and coaches following except the last, saved by the 
 breaking of its coupling. 
 
 It was a cloudy night, the misty sky lighted by 
 a pale moon and filmy stars. Fortunately the 
 crash had come within a mile of a village, and the 
 conductor's danger signal, waking the echoes 
 among the hollow cypresses of the swamp, at- 
 tracted the attention of the telegraph operator, 
 not yet gone to bed ; and seeing the head-light of 
 the train he had hastened to the rescue with 
 some of the villagers who lived near the depot. 
 
 There was work to do, indeed, of a nature to 
 sicken the heart and torture the brain. The most 
 of the wounded were found among the debris of 
 the sleeper — men, women and children ; but two 
 men (mangled creatures, who had been dreaming 
 the night away in the luxurious Pullman), opened 
 eyes on the light no more. 
 
 Vivia Lemuir kept by the side of Dr. Evans. 
 She had some hours ago discovered his near- 
 
t6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 sightedness, and now she helped him as he had 
 never been helped before, with a quickness of 
 vision, a readiness of touch, that seemed a kind of 
 prescience of his needs. His surgical skill was 
 called into requisition ere long ; there were dis- 
 located joints to be set, wounds to be bound up, 
 and limbs to be amputated. 
 
 Towards daylight a fine, cold rain began to fall, 
 but Vivia Lemuir still held to the ghastly duty of 
 the moment ; still with tender hands sought to 
 assuage the agonies of the wounded and dying. 
 One large man, who had both legs torn off at the 
 knee, was found wedged under the ruins of the 
 stove in the smoking-car. His cries and groans 
 were fearful to listen to. As Vivia stooped over 
 him, bathing his face with her handkerchief, dipped 
 in water that trickled near, " Mein Gott," he said, 
 " you ish like my daughter Gretchen, a leetle 
 ding ! Gott pless you ! " 
 
 Dr. Evans put him in an ambulance, asking 
 Vivia to go with him to the village, saying he 
 would join her in a short time ; for by this the 
 wretched victims of disaster, dead, dying, wounded 
 and shocked, had all been gotten out, and the 
 light of morning looked down from tearful skies 
 on a crowd of railroad hands, busily engaged in 
 rebuilding the trestle, that travel might be re- 
 sumed at the earliest possible moment. 
 
 In three hours Dr. Evans and Vivia Lemuir 
 were again en route, she feeling that sense of 
 ease natural to a woman under the recognized 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. ii 
 
 protection of man. Circumstances had developed 
 their friendship to quick maturity, and wonderful 
 seemed the revelation of this womanly nature to 
 Dr. Evans, whose personal experience had tinged 
 him with a large degree of cynicism and skepticism. 
 He sat by her side now, and she in answer to his 
 questions told him the story of her life. 
 
 " My father was my baby enthusiasm," she said ; 
 " the most affectionate, tender, dear old gentle- 
 man in the world ; gray-headed when I was born, 
 an old bachelor when he was first married, and my 
 mother was his second wife. He was a physician 
 (she gave Dr. Evans a smile), and devoted to his 
 profession ; — a close student all his life, not only 
 of books but of such cases as came under his care. 
 But oh ! how gentle and timid he was ; not physi- 
 cally nor even morally, when it came to matters 
 of principle, but he was most afraid of hurting 
 people's feelings ; couldn't bear to present his bill 
 to a man for whom he had done the most faith- 
 ful work. I don't think he ever dunned a person 
 in his life. In consequence he was, from the time 
 I, his youngest child, could remember, always 
 pinched for money. 
 
 " I can see him now, with his shiny, threadbare, 
 but well-brushed clothes. He was very neat ; — 
 his long fingers, knotted with rheumatism, yet 
 constantly brought prominently to view by hold- 
 ing them up to shield his sore lips, resulting from 
 attending medical lectures in Philadelphia. I can 
 hear him clear his throat (he had a perpetual 
 
1 2 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 throat trouble), and in going out among his fruit 
 trees he always wore a red silk handkerchief tied 
 over his mouth. His one innocent and useful 
 hobby was the culture of fruit, and he was always 
 eager to spend his very occasional dollar in buy- 
 ing trees, or any new work on horticulture. 
 
 " My mother, who was a practical woman, would 
 remonstrate with him energetically, but it never 
 amounted to anything. Next to his interest in 
 a case of sickness, indeed, beyond it perhaps, was 
 his profound, absorbing devotion to the orchard. 
 Every tree was a pet. He gave you the name, 
 English, French, or Dutch, his tongue dwelling 
 unctuously on the syllables, while he held up the 
 specimen before you in his long, knotted fingers, 
 a great luscious red apple, or a melting yellow 
 pear. I learned to speak the hard names of the 
 beautiful specimens he was always bringing in to 
 my mother, along with papa, mamma, and kitty. 
 
 " The cellar in the winter was fragrant with 
 hundreds and hundreds of apples and pears, all 
 wrapped in paper, and oh, how his benevolent 
 face beamed with pleasure when, in time of heavy 
 snow, he carried a basket of beauties to some 
 poor convalescent, whose mouth watered for the 
 delicious juices of those well-preserved spheres. 
 I recall our old house, identical with hospitality 
 through the country, picturesque with its charm 
 of roses and wealth of orchards, alive with croon- 
 ing bees and song of mocking-birds ; but inside 
 where the new additions (old when I was born), 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 13 
 
 joined to the venerable mansion of my grand- 
 parents (which, with lands and negroes my papa 
 inherited from his father), there were dreadful 
 leaks. Papa was always intending to have the 
 leaks stopped, but somehow could never find 
 himself able. He was old when his people, 
 as he called his negroes, were freed; and he 
 could never get out of the old ruts of slavery 
 times. So my mother took rheumatic fever and 
 died, and he, who had loved her so dearly, was 
 like one lost afterwards. Oh ! the pitiful, dear 
 figure," — the girl's voice faltered. " Excuse me, 
 Dr. Evans, I should not have told you all this." 
 
 The tall head bent, and the strong hand clasped 
 the girl's small one a moment. 
 
 "Tell me more," was all he said. 
 
 " My father had a son and daughter by his first 
 wife. Brother Arthur and Sister Mary. My 
 mother I barely remember — a large, stately 
 woman, of most dignified bearing ; this was the 
 picture she made even to my chiMish eyes. 
 Sister Mary, whom she reared, says she was culti- 
 vated and accomplished, the finest pianist in the 
 country ; having, in fact, had a city education. 
 I've always felt an intense sense of pain and loss 
 in having been deprived of her in childhood," 
 said Vivia (looking at Dr. Evans with eyes, into 
 which tears were again welling). " I think I might 
 have been very different if I had just had her 
 tenderness and training ; but my sister Mary, 
 good as she is, I'm sure had not my mother's ca- 
 
14 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 pacities, and so I'm like that girl in the story who 
 ' just growed up.' My good, kind sister did what 
 she could ; but, with her own numerous children 
 and imperfect health, I was like a weed." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Dr. Evans, smilingly, " not a 
 weed ; say a wild morning-glory. You know it 
 comes up in the most barren fields and perfects 
 itself, and it blooms in most unprepossessing 
 places ; why not you ? " 
 
 " Ah, thank you ! that is a poetic thought." 
 
 " I'm no poet, Miss Lemuir, just a hard-working 
 bread-winner, seeing generally the worst side of 
 human nature. Like you in one respect, — I have 
 just cut loose from old moorings and am now on 
 my way to a new field of labor. I am glad I can 
 see you to your last train." 
 
 Much more conversation passed between them, 
 and when they arrived at the bustling city of 
 Melita, Vivia was glad indeed to have the expecta- 
 tion of some one to steer her safely through the 
 swarming carriages ; but just as the train drew into 
 the station, ere it stopped, in fact, a gentleman 
 entered the coach who, by some occult power of 
 recognition, attracted the girl's gaze ; and as he 
 looked at her she rose and murmured — 
 
 " Brother Arthur." 
 
 " Why Vivia, dear, I'm glad to see you ! " He 
 looked inquiringly at the gentleman beside her, 
 who had also risen. 
 
 " Dr. Evans," said she, " my brother, Captain 
 Lemuir." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 15 
 
 The two men in a glance took each other's 
 measure, and were each favorably impressed. 
 
 Vivia bade the doctor a good-bye with thanks, 
 and walked away with Captain Lemuir to board 
 her last train, drawn up a few hundred yards 
 distant. 
 
l6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPIER II. 
 
 vivia's new home. 
 
 After a drive of some miles in a buggy, 
 through a country that looked dreary in its late 
 autumn dress of leafless woods and brown fields, 
 the sister and brother reached Ridley, a large, 
 double log-house with shed-rooms, situated in the 
 midst of open fields. 
 
 Two children, with shocks of curly yellow hair, 
 rushed to meet them, followed by bird-dogs and 
 a colored boy. Captain Lemuir kissed the chil- 
 dren and tried to make them speak to Vivia, 
 but they would not, and went climbing into the 
 buggy to see what he had brought them. 
 
 When they entered the house they were met by 
 a very stout woman, whose cool scrutiny instantly 
 abashed Vivia. 
 
 " My wife," said Captain Lemuir. " Celestia, 
 this is Vivia." 
 
 The pair shook hands and Mrs. Lemuir sank 
 back into her rocking-chair, while Vivia timidly 
 turned away, took off hat and gloves, and placed 
 them, with her cloak, on the bed which stood in 
 the corner. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 17 
 
 The sister-in-law asked her about her journey 
 in an unsympathetic voice, but listened, evidently 
 with a shade of interest, to her account of her ac- 
 cidental acquaintance with Dr. Evans. When she 
 paused, she remarked judicially: 
 
 " I think it was very improper for you to have 
 talked with an unknawn man. He might have 
 been a robber." 
 
 Vivia laughed. 
 
 " Why, he was a cultivated, refined gentleman," 
 said she, in a positive voice. 
 
 " Yes, and pickpockets often have that look. 
 I hope you will never be so imprudent again." 
 
 " Evans is a gentleman I'm certain," said Cap- 
 tain Lemuir; "you mustn't scold her, wife, and 
 she just arrived too." 
 
 Further talk was prevented by the appearance 
 of a black woman, wearing a homespun hood, who 
 said simply : 
 
 " Dinner's raidy." 
 
 Vivia followed her brother into one of the shed- 
 rooms, which seemed, to her already chilled body, 
 icy in temperature. Mrs. Lemuir and the chil- 
 dren had dined, Candace told them. It was quite 
 dark and the candles were lighted. 
 
 It was an untempting meal, cold turnip greens 
 and corn-bread, cold coffee, stale light-bread and 
 stale cake ; also a saucer of pickles. 
 
 On returning to the sitting-room Mrs. Lemuir 
 yawned, laid down her novel, and addressed her 
 little ceptain. 
 
l8 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 " Hubby, I bought some potatoes from Mrs. 
 Hardwyn to-day." 
 
 " I'm sorry, dear. I begged you not to make 
 any more trades with her." 
 
 " Oh, well, I wanted the potatoes, and she has 
 a very good kind. I know you will despise her, 
 Vivia, for she is the stingiest woman in this country. 
 Why, she made me pay twenty-five cents for half 
 a cup of honey, and as for chicken-feathers, she 
 calls them cheap at goose-feather prices, that is, 
 when she sells them ; and what makes it more 
 ridiculous is that her daughter sets up to be some- 
 body, when her mother actually works in the field 
 and does the cooking for the family. Leora was 
 at church last Sunday, and the airs she gave her- 
 self were perfectly absurd. She is a pale, die-away 
 looking thing, and it's my opinion will never get 
 a husband, as much money as her mother has 
 hoarded up." 
 
 " Why, dear," said Captain Lemuir, " I think 
 Leora quite attractive ; very domestic, too. I 
 shouldn't wonder if she married well. Are you 
 not rather severe on your neighbor ? You will 
 make Vivia think she's got into a hard coun- 
 
 try." 
 
 " I'd like to know what it is if it ain't hard," 
 returned the rasping voice, " but anyway it's 
 bed-time. There's your candle, Vivia ; just walk 
 across the passage. We breakfast at eight o'clock 
 sharp. Good-night." 
 
 Captain Lemuir rose, took the candle, led the 
 
BEHOLDING AS W A GLASS. 19 
 
 way, and at her door put his arms around his 
 sister and kissed her. 
 
 By dint of will-power she restrained herself till 
 in bed, then she shivered and sobbed till sleep 
 came to her relief. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast Captain Lemuir 
 asked Vivia if she were fond of walking, and on 
 receiving an affirmative answer, bade her get ready 
 to go with him and Gerald, his little son, to where 
 the help were picking cotton, the last opening of 
 which still whitened the fields. 
 
 They walked along near the fence-row of an 
 extensive field of perhaps a hundred acres. The 
 cotton was now all a dead-leaf color, for the early 
 frosts had killed the foliage, except when white 
 flakes clung in spots where close picking had not 
 been given it. The fences were dilapidated, the 
 gin-house an old tumble-down structure, and the 
 ditches they crossed choked with briers. " Brother 
 Arthur " (as Vivia called him) followed a footpath 
 leading by the edge of a cotton-field, and chatted 
 pleasantly of his experience with the freedmen. 
 
 They found these " freedmen " picking cotton in 
 the vicinity of a smouldering fire, built in an old 
 stump, handy to warm by ; and making slow work 
 of it as they were all deeply interested in an argu- 
 ment between Uncle Caesar and Uncle Pompey. 
 
 Among the pickers was one white man, evi- 
 dently of the caste known as " poor trash," and 
 decidedly the most sheepish-looking human being 
 Vivia had ever seen. Indeed, as he stood slowly 
 
20 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS, 
 
 pulling locks of cotton out of the brown burrs, 
 he reminded her forcibly of a sheep nipping 
 berries. Captain Lemuir accosted him with 
 " Morning, Lambmy," and Lambmy snickered 
 and said " Mornin'," watching the girl furtively, 
 with a face, eyes and hair as jaundiced as if bot- 
 tom clay and air had formed his dietary all his 
 life. The captain made several encouraging re- 
 marks to him, but he only answered by a slight 
 distortion of his lilac lips and yellow jaws. 
 
 " How are you, Uncle Pompey? " inquired the 
 land-owner of an old negro with small, watery 
 eyes, flat nose and catfish mouth. 
 
 " A little gruntin', sir, an' under de wedder. 
 How's yourse'f ? " 
 
 " First-rate (the captain was always first-rate). 
 Here's my sister. Miss Vivia Lemuir ; I make you 
 and Uncle Caesar acquainted with her." 
 
 " Mos' obeshent," responded Pompey ; " she 
 pears to be a mighty fine young lady." 
 
 " Hope you will think a heap of her," said the 
 captain. 
 
 " Sartinly, sah ! most sartinly ; a lubly young 
 lady ; got a look outen her eye like yourself. Me 
 an' de ole man Caesar, mum, we wus argyfien a 
 pint out'n de Bible. Csesar dar he am a washfoot 
 Baptist. He tink water eberyting. I tells him 
 water ain't nothin' ; water ain't gwine to save no- 
 body. I've knowed pussens to be put clean under 
 de water an' den go down to the lake what bu'ns 
 wid fire an' brimstone ! " 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 21 
 
 " How you knowed dey went dar?" growled 
 gruff old Csesar. 
 
 " Heard dam say dey was agwine, on dere death- 
 bed," replied Pompey, waxing more veheriient. 
 " Now, Caesar, ole man, you undertakes to wash 
 folks' sins 'way by washin' dere foots. You neber 
 heard dat de tree am knowed by him fruits ? Dis 
 here cotton don't hab wool on hit ? dat dar sim- 
 mon tree don't bare apples ? Now s'posen you 
 wash a man foot, an' he git dead drunk an' knock 
 somebody in de head, what'll come o' him ? He 
 be save ? No sirree ! I tells you, 'cepting a man 
 be born again St. Peter neber let him in, not ef 
 his foot wash ebery day in the year ; not ef he 
 wus drowned in water ! Now, Uncle Caesar, what 
 does you say to de looks ob your boss ? Dat hoss 
 ob Uncle Caesar's is most ready fur de buzzards to 
 pick ; dat hoss ain't watered onct a week. He 
 ain't fed on corn onct a mont'. Uncle Caesar 
 leadin' man in de church ! I say he ain't got no 
 'ligion 'tall. ' De mussiful man gardeth de life of 
 his beast,' ain't de Bible say so. Mis' Viviar ? " 
 
 She smilingly assented. The venerable speaker 
 paused at the captain's peal of laughter ; regard- 
 ing this in the light of applause, he resumed, 
 pointing his finger at Uncle Caesar, who hid his 
 discomfiture by emptying his sack into his basket, 
 and getting in it to pack it down. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; Cappen, dere's where I got de dead- 
 wood on Caesar. De 'postle Poll say he baptize 
 3,000 pussons in one day, wid one tea-cup ob 
 
22 BEHOLDING AS M A GLAS± 
 
 water. Now if one teacupful 'nuff fer all dem, 
 whar de use ob a ribber full fur drown folks in ? " 
 
 " None whatever, Uncle Pompey," laughed the 
 captain ; " evidently none." 
 
 " I tell you all now, all yinner sinner," said 
 Pompey (adopting an exhortatory manner, and 
 that indescribable sing-song kind of tone the 
 negroes always use when religiously excited), 
 " ' Prepare to meet dy God !' I fell into a trance de 
 odder night. I viewed hell. I lay on de edge of 
 hell all day. De weight ob a bale ob cotton wus 
 on my bres', my head wus hangin' ober. I wus 
 lookin' down into fiery pit. I see all hell a-blazin' 
 like de woods a-fire ; an' dere wus a great big kittle 
 fill up wid hot lead an' brimstone a-bilin', an' a 
 great big rooster he wus pullin' a stick ob timber 
 ten inches square across hell. An' I seed de 
 wicked a-jumpin' an a-howlin' in torment, an' a- 
 hollerin' fur Lazarus to come an' bring a drop ob 
 water fur to cool dere parched tongues. I see de 
 debbil wid dat big ole club foot o' hisen, an' a 
 ball an' chain roun' his leg, an' he wus gwine 'bout 
 wid a t'ree-pronged fork, a-stirrin' up de fire, an' 
 drivin' de sinners back in, an' ebery now an' den 
 he would go out and git some ob dat bilin' water 
 outen de kittle an' pour it on 'em, where it wus 
 blistered, an' dey'd holler wuss dan eber, an' de 
 blue blazes would come outen dere nostrils. An' 
 while I wus layin' down at de mouth ob hell, 
 scared to death, lessen I fall in, I hear somebody 
 call me, an' I tu'n my head. I say, ' Who dat call 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. i% 
 
 dis nigger ? ' De voice say, ' O, my little one, if you 
 b'leve inter Me, git up an' follow Me.' Then I riz 
 an' took another path what I see gwine up a hill, 
 an' as I goed up stoopin', 'cause de way wus so 
 steep, I see Jesus, an' He wus so wide an' so tall, 
 I couldn't pass him noways ; an' I had to go right 
 up to Him, an' so I drap down on my knees an' 
 say, ' Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.' He say, 
 ' Only b'leve.' I say, ' Lord, I b'leve ' ; help Thou 
 my unbelev,' an' that minute I git lighter, as if I 
 had put down aheaby basket ob cotton. De scales 
 drap from off my eyes, an' I see heaben a-shinin' 
 not fur off, ober de jasper sea uprisin' de pearly 
 gate ob de new Jerusalem. Oh ! An' dere, close 
 by de gate, wus my little sister Jane what died 'fore 
 freedom come. She stood by St. Peter whilst he let 
 me in. I say, ' Dat you, Jane ? ' She say, ' Dat's 
 me. Enter in, thou blessed ob de Lord.' Den lots 
 more angels come roun' an' dey take off my dirty 
 does, an' wash me white in de blood ob de Lamb 
 dat wus slain ; an' dey put de silver slipper on my 
 foot, an' de white robe an' de golden girdle, an' 
 a great crown, like de sun in July, blazin', an car- 
 ried me in an sot me down to milk an' honey. 
 Oh ! my dyin' friens, tu'n from de error ob your 
 ways, an' b'leve me, now is the 'scepted time ; now 
 is de day ob salvation." 
 
 The speaker's eyes were dripping tears, and 
 before he could say any more Captain Lemuir 
 turned his back and began walking rapidly away. 
 Vivia, whose eyes were wet, said softly, in her 
 
^4 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 sweet voice, " Excuse me, Uncle Pompey," and 
 hurried to overtake her brother. 
 
 " Oh, brother," she said, somewhat breath- 
 lessly, "wasn't it touching? But why didn't you 
 tell him he was mistaken about St. Paul ? Three 
 thousand souls were added to the church the day 
 of Pentecost, not baptized, and it was under the 
 preaching of Peter." 
 
 " Why, my dear child," said the captain laugh- 
 ing, " I considered all he said bosh, and himself a 
 humbug." 
 
 " But, brother, some of it was true Gospel." 
 
 " Ah ! indeed ; well, don't let us get to ' argifyin' ,' 
 Old Pomp ain't worth it. He is the biggest 
 rogue on the plantation ; wife can't keep a chicken 
 for him, and I don't know how many of my hogs 
 he has stolen." 
 
 " Is it possible ? I thought from the way you 
 talked to him you liked him very much. Why 
 do you let him stay on the place, brother ? " 
 
 " I have a kind feeling for the old rascal ; I 
 suppose he does the best he can. You know 
 negroes have no moral sense. They are a kind- 
 hearted race, and it is necessary to be conciliatory. 
 Labor is hard to get in this country, and hard to 
 keep, and a farmer has to overlook small delin- 
 quencies. Pompey is a capital hand, has control of 
 a large family of boys, pays his rent promptly. I 
 must get my land worked, and negro labor is best 
 adapted to the climate. White men can't stand 
 exposure here as well as the darkeys. So you 
 
hE FOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 2^ 
 
 see, sister, it behooves me to do all I can to keep 
 my freedmen in a good humor; and, indeed, 
 policy and inclination coincide on my part. Civil- 
 ity costs me nothing and exerts a powerful in- 
 fluence. I don't mind addressing a colored man 
 as Mr. ; it's a great concession to his vanity, makes 
 him my friend, and detracts not a whit from my 
 dignity." 
 
 Vivia still looking dubious, he continued: 
 " I am trying very hard to work out in my 
 mind the problem of the period. It will be ages 
 before the negro race die out, or emigrate ; and 
 meanwhile it is for the interest of the actors in 
 the present drama to harmonize parties. The 
 negro must be convinced of the sincerity of our 
 purpose to keep faith. He is quick to distrust 
 those who take advantage of him in the smallest 
 matters. There is some malice and a great deal 
 of roguery in the negro, but get on his good side, 
 arouse his sense of responsibility, show confidence 
 in him, and he comes right up to the scratch and 
 clears up all his obligations ; at least he generally 
 does. Well, sister, here we are at home, and if 
 wife hasn't anything for me to do I will show you 
 my books." 
 
 He went into the room where Mrs. Lemuir sat, 
 reading her novel as usual, and presently re- 
 turned and went with Vivia into the best room, 
 or " parlor," as Mrs. Lemuir called it, though it 
 boasted at least two handsomely furnished beds. 
 
2 6 BEHOLDING AS W A CLASS. 
 
 covered with expensive Marseilles quilts and em- 
 broidered shams on the pillows. 
 
 In the corner stood the captain's bookcase, 
 improvised by himself of goods-boxes, one large 
 one forming the base and a receptacle for news- 
 papers, while secured to it by nails were a half- 
 dozen shelves, the foundation being draped with 
 red chintz and the shelves stained brown. 
 
 " You can get acquainted with me all the easier, 
 Vivia dear, after examining my books. Show me 
 the company a man keeps and I will tell you the 
 kind of man he is. My books are grouped in the 
 order in which they are dearest to me. Here 
 are my physiological and philosophical friends, 
 which I prefer above all. Here are works on 
 medicine, botany, chemistry : Dunglison, Dewees, 
 Linnaeus, Huxley, Booth, Combe, Deleuze, Agas- 
 siz and Draper. Here are my historians : Hume, 
 Gibbon, Macaulay and Carlyle." 
 
 " I have read extracts from Carlyle's ' Fred- 
 erick,' " said Vivia in her timid voice, " but his 
 books are so expensive I never hoped to have an 
 opportunity of reading them." 
 
 " Well, now's your chance. Sis. Here's seven vol- 
 umes of ' Frederick the Great,' ' The French Revo- 
 lution ' and ' Cromwell.' I can't say I like the 
 grim old Scotchman, but maybe you will. At 
 any rate he had too much hard horse-sense to 
 be imposed on by the humbuggery of church- 
 ism." 
 
 " Churchism, brother ; what is that ? " 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 27 
 
 " O, I mean this preaching and praying busi- 
 ness, — the whole paraphernaha of priestcraft." 
 
 Vivia looked amazed, pained to the heart. 
 
 " O, brother ! are you not a Christian ? " she 
 asked, in a breathless way, as if something clutched 
 her heart. 
 
 " Well, no ; I can't say I am, but don't look 
 so shocked, little woman ; I'm a gentleman, I hope, 
 if not a Christian." 
 
 The girl's eyes swam in tears. 
 
 " I'm a very imperfect Christian myself, brother, 
 but I would not give my faith in Christ for worlds. 
 Ah ! how can you be so good and not feel the 
 ' Infinite Pity of the Cross ? ' " 
 
 " Oh, please don't cry," said Captain Lemuir, 
 " I was in hopes you had not that habit." 
 
 Vivia made a great effort, and seeing her com- 
 posed, he resumed : 
 
 " Here are my poets ; am I a true prophet 
 when I say you will leave history and physiology 
 for them ? " 
 
 " I hope not, for I do earnestly desire to im- 
 prove my knowledge of history." 
 
 " Your ladyship may command me in any 
 research you have at heart ; " and he bowed half 
 mockingly, looking at the tear-wet eyes with a 
 loving smile. 
 
 "As for physiology, brother, I should like to 
 study it under you if you can find time to teach 
 me, I have the very vaguest ideas of anatomy. 
 
28 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 I know which side my heart is on, but I'm not 
 certain I could locate my liver." 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed he, " nothing will delight 
 me more ; a young lady pupil who wants to get 
 acquainted with her own interior. Now, if some 
 fellow don't come along and divert your atten- 
 tion to one organ alone " 
 
 " O, brother ! don't speak of such a thing ; 
 marriage is a state I don't want to think of. 
 Have you no theological works, no Commen- 
 taries ? " 
 
 " Can't say I have anything strictly in that line. 
 Ever read ' Innocents Abroad' ? No ? Well, that 
 embodies what I should call natural theology. 
 And, by the way, we can begin the ' Innocents ' to- 
 night ; you and Celestia can take turns with me 
 in reading aloud. Have you ever practiced read- 
 ing aloud? " 
 
 " Yes, I've been accustomed to reading to Sister 
 Mary ever since I was a child, she always had so 
 much darning and mending to do. As regularly 
 as the tea-things are cleared away, she gets her 
 work-basket and I a book ; I like to have her cor- 
 rect my pronunciation and make things clear to 
 me. You know, brother, I've never been to 
 school much, — ^just picked up what little educa- 
 tion I have." 
 
 " Well, really, I think I may congratulate you. 
 You've managed to pick up a good style of ex- 
 pression and a good manner, at any rate. Have 
 you read ' Paradise Lost ' ? " 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 29 
 
 " Yes, I've read a good deal of Milton's poetry 
 and all of Shakespeare's plays." 
 
 " How about the modern poets? " 
 
 " I know Tennyson right well, and Jean 
 Ingelow." 
 
 "And Mrs. Browning?" 
 
 " I've read nothing from her, except quo- 
 tations." 
 
 " Then, little girl, I've a treat in store for you. 
 Her ' Aurora Leigh ' is the finest poem of the 
 century. This is Longfellow, and I have Emer- 
 son's Essays, beside our own Timrod and Paul 
 Hayne of Carolina." 
 
 Vivia's eyes lighted. 
 
 " I shall be happy with them," she said simply. 
 
30 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ViViA was alone, Mrs. Lemuir and the children 
 having gone for a visit of two days to Mrs. Miln. 
 Captain Lemuir had driven them in the rockaway 
 and had promised to be back by dark. 
 
 Evening was coming on apace, and Vivia rose 
 from the little table on which were many sheets 
 of paper, closely written, and went to the window, 
 hoping to see her brother driving up the long 
 lane. It was horribly dreary out-of-doors ; the 
 morning had promised fair, but clouded up at ten 
 o'clock, threatened snow at noon, then grew 
 warmer, and was now closing down into a misty 
 drizzle under a mantle of leaden-hued clouds. 
 There was the ceaseless, distracting drip of water 
 off the roof through the pipe into the cistern, the 
 continual creaking of the shutters, added to the 
 moaning of the wind under the crevices of the 
 ill-fitting doors and windows. 
 
 Vivia had been engaged in a most unpoetical 
 labor the greater part of the day, namely, helping 
 Candace, the colored cook, to try up lard, and 
 convert the scraps of meat left over from cutting 
 up a couple of hogs the day before, into sausage 
 meat. In the brief period of her stay at Ridley 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 31 
 
 her shrewd sister-in-law had discovered her avail- 
 ability as a " help " in the domestic manage, several 
 removes above the black cook, Candace, only in 
 sharing family privileges; and it was already 
 becoming quite her habit to impose a variety of 
 tasks upon her newly-arrived sister-in-law, couched 
 in such phrases as — 
 
 " I wish, Vivia, you would go and show Can- 
 dace how to make a rice-pudding. Candace 
 always fails at rice-pudding, and I'm so fond of 
 it, and the one you made Wednesday was so de- 
 licious ; " or it would be, " Vivia, dear, I should 
 be so glad if you would stitch that apron for 
 Geraldine ; I began it last week and it seems to 
 me I never can catch up with my sewing, I have 
 so many interruptions ; " or again, '■ O, Vivia, you 
 good child ! if you would only darn those socks 
 for Captain Lemuir. He is the worst man on 
 socks I ever saw. Just look what awful holes, 
 and I noticed your stockings so beautifully 
 darned. Now I never could darn worth a cent, 
 and, in fact, I'd rather do anything than darn." 
 Yet she was really a guest, having been invited 
 by both her brother and his wife, separately and 
 jointly. She had waited to accept her brother's 
 repeated invitations till confirmed and emphasized 
 in a letter from Mrs. Lemuir. 
 
 Vivia had shown a kind and obliging disposi- 
 tion from the day of her arrival, but her sister-in- 
 law was only too ready to take advantage of her 
 skill in household matters. When Arthur had 
 
32 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 remarked that he " had two hogs to kill," Mrs. 
 Lemuir instantly began deploring the " necessity 
 of the dirty work." 
 
 " I do despise hog-killing. You had better go 
 and get Mrs. Planner to come and help attend 
 to it." 
 
 Captain Lemuir had seemed so worried and at 
 a loss, that Vivia quite innocently said she had 
 been in the habit of helping sister Mary in all 
 such emergencies, and last winter did up some 
 lard that was quite white and kept till September, 
 when the last of it was used. The poor girl 
 was not a little chagrined when she found that 
 her sister-in-law was actually going off visiting, 
 and with a certain air of assurance dropped the 
 whole load on her shoulders, with — 
 
 " I know, Vivia, you will be good enough to 
 superintend Candace while she is doing up that 
 lard and those sausages. I only want you to 
 stay in the kitchen while she is at it ; you needn't 
 get a finger greased." 
 
 It turned out that Candace had to be con- 
 stantly directed, and that she had caught her 
 mistress's idea, and was for getting all the help 
 she could from the captain's sister. 
 
 " She's a poor gal," said Candace to herself, 
 " no kin to Mis' Celestia, and ' poor folks has 
 to work.' " 
 
 Still, though Vivia smarted under a sense of 
 imposition, she did whatever she put her hand to 
 faithfully, and by four o'clock the lard was ready 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 33 
 
 to set away, clear and unscorched, and the sau- 
 sages seasoned and ready for stuffing the next 
 day. 
 
 For the last hour Vivia had been writing, but 
 now, in the dreary twilight, she became restless 
 and lonely, her spirits fell as the mercury rose in 
 the thermometer, under the unseasonable warmth 
 of an oppressively warm temperature, succeeding 
 the mid-winter coldness of three hours before. 
 It was only one of those sudden changes charac- 
 teristic of the western climate, but keenly affect- 
 ing to an impressionable temperament. 
 
 She went out on the long piazza and sat down 
 on the " joggling-board." There was nothing to 
 be seen in the waning light but a bald, brown 
 stretch of drenched fields, a distant grove, bare- 
 branched and leafless, riot a green tint, not a hint 
 of color in the landscape ; no cedars, no magno- 
 lias, no beloved pines ; and the girl's heart sank 
 in a homesick longing for old familiar paths and 
 places. The atmosphere darkened ; an approach- 
 ing cloud dissolved itself into an immense flock 
 of blackbirds ; not the plump black rice-bird of the 
 Carolinas, but the species of small, thin-bodied, 
 migratory birds, that can be seen any day 
 in late fall and winter in the middle-west, darken- 
 ing the air in their flight, and making it vibrate 
 with their chatter when they alight in the pea- 
 fields. Then her attention was attracted by a 
 peculiar sound, " honk, honk," and over towards 
 the river she saw a large flock of wild geese, 
 3 • " 
 
34 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 slowly flying in single file, as is their wont. 
 They made her think of her brother Jeff, who 
 was fond of hunting them, and whose very occa- 
 sional early risings were all induced by an intense 
 desire to kill wild turkeys and wild geese, or 
 to go fox-hunting. One of his few accomplish- 
 ments was his ability to imitate wild geese and 
 turkeys by a peculiar method of blowing a bit of 
 cane. With a turkey-quill in his pocket, he would 
 get up before day and dive deep into the woods 
 where he suspected they would be roosting. 
 Here he would conceal himself in the brush of a 
 " turkey-blind," made the day before, near a spot 
 baited with peas or corn ; and when the birds de- 
 scended from their perches at daybreak he some- 
 times succeeded in getting a shot, and per- 
 haps once or twice a year would bag a gobbler. 
 But her sister Mary was much opposed to his 
 hunts after either turkeys or geese, as they invari- 
 ably gave him rheumatism and made long sieges 
 of nursing for her. 
 
 Vivia thought sobbingly of the change she 
 had made from sister's to brother's house. At 
 Sister Mary's she was incessantly busy, help- 
 ing energetic Mrs. Newsome in all her thousand- 
 and-one duties ; but that was different, for sister 
 shared her work and was never idle herself, and 
 Vivia knew her generous, noble nature ; but this 
 supercilious stranger who criticised, and snubbed, 
 and domineered over her and her brother too, 
 who seemed to have no love for even her own 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 35 
 
 children, created an atmosphere in which the 
 girl's sensitive spirit seemed never at ease. 
 
 But now with one of those transitions of mood 
 which was a striking characteristic of hers, she 
 put aside the gloom of soul that had come on 
 her with the evening shadows, and also the nerv- 
 ous dread of being alone in that lonely place with 
 no one in call but colored people, and resolutely- 
 set to work on that same writing which she had 
 taken from a shallow, flat box containing a much- 
 worn atlas, minus backs, and a quantity of thin 
 paper which she placed on a small table. 
 
 She wrote a large, bold hand, which could 
 easily be mistaken for a man's. While she wrote 
 her mobile face went through as many changes of 
 expression as if she were acting in a pantomime. 
 Not that she had any idea of acting, but her face 
 was always a perfect index to her feelings, 
 whether joy, sorrow, mirth, or sympathy. Even 
 casual acquaintances deciphered the feelings 
 of this ingenuous soul. Some people said " Vivia 
 was ' winsome ' — ' lovely ' — ' the noblest creature,' 
 — others called her " ugly, disagreeable and 
 haughty." To these last she appeared as they 
 described her because of their total lack of sym- 
 pathy with her. 
 
 She had written about five pages when the 
 barking of the dogs and rattling of wheels an- 
 nounced the master's arrival, which had the effect 
 of arresting her writing ; and by the time she had 
 opened the door her brother came in, carrying 
 
36 bEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 Geraldine, and Lambmy toting Gerald. The 
 little girl had only half waked up, and was crying 
 at the sudden interruption of her nap ; but Gerald 
 was full of glee, hugging Neptune, the pointer 
 dog, as well as his negro playmate, Toney, while 
 he told of " riding in the black night through big 
 black water with papa." 
 
 Vivia stirred around, helping Candace to make 
 coffee and toast, and herself arranged the supper- 
 table. After a pleasant meal she put the children 
 to bed, and then sat and talked with her brother 
 over the incidents of his trip. He said his wife 
 had concluded to send the children back because 
 she found there was a camp-meeting going on at 
 Centenary, and her aunt was just ready to start, 
 and she wanted to go with her. She would 
 return home in time to take Vivia to the Sunday 
 meeting if she could get a dress made by then. 
 
 " So, Sissie, if you want to go, you had better 
 let me carry you out to Clegg's store to-morrow 
 and select something, and have Mrs. Clegg make 
 it up for you. Celestia thought you might. 
 Hey ! what have we here ? " he said, suddenly 
 glancing at the table with the litter of closely- 
 written sheets. " This looks as if it were intended 
 to be printed." 
 
 Vivia blushed scarlet and hastened to snatch 
 up the papers and cram them into her box. But 
 Captain Lemuir, in his nonchalant way, dropped 
 the piece he had taken up, saying : 
 
 " I used to think I'd be a great writer ; I had 
 
Beholding as in a glass. 37 
 
 quite an ambition that way, but I've given up all 
 such hopes, and am content to knock along and 
 get through commonplace, every-day duties the 
 best I can. It will make no difference a hundred 
 years hence." 
 
 On Friday morning Mrs. Lemuir came home 
 from the Methodist camp-meeting to get more 
 clothes and see if Vivia was ready to go ; but, as 
 she had not even bought material for a dress, her 
 sister-in-law again went to the meeting alone, 
 leaving Captain Lemuir to weigh up " rent cotton " 
 and Vivia to keep house. She said to Vivia : 
 
 " I'll see Mrs. Clegg and get you a dress if she 
 has anything that will do, and she must make it 
 up. I hate to have you go so dowdy. I want 
 you to meet Aunt Henrietta and her girls, and 
 you can't be seen in the things you brought." 
 
 Mrs. Lemuir returned from this trip Sunday, 
 bringing with her a young man named Teddy. 
 Norwood, a bright, black-eyed, boyish-looking 
 youth, who seemed overflowing with fun. 
 
 " Such a crowd was there, Miss Lemuir," said 
 Ted ; " now's your time to see what people in the 
 middle-west are like. Mrs. Lemuir, did you go 
 into Captain Jolly's tent ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't." 
 
 " You ought to have, for it was the biggest on 
 the grounds, and they say he killed a hog every 
 morning. But ain't he a sure enough jolly old 
 chap, by name as well as by nature ? It takes a 
 huge carriage, one made to order, to carry him 
 
38 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 and Mrs. Jolly. You ought to see the couple, 
 Miss Lemuir, I think they certainly weigh three 
 hundred apiece. O, Captain, why weren't you there 
 last night ? Camp-meeting is such fun at night ! 
 Old man Grimes preached, and he fairly howled 
 because they ' hadn't fixed the mourner's place.' 
 ' Here's fifty souls perishing for want of straw ! ' " 
 he howled ; and Teddy laughed till the tears stood 
 in his eyes. Suddenly, however, he blushed crim- 
 son, seeing that Vivia did not even smile, but 
 looked at him with grave astonishment. 
 
 The captain, who as well as Mrs. Lemuir had 
 joined in Teddy's mirth, composed his features 
 and said in an apologetic tone : 
 
 " My sister is just in from the old Huguenot 
 country, Ted ; they look upon preachers and 
 preaching as sacred out there." 
 
 " O, well," said Mrs. Lemuir, with an air of dis- 
 gust, " anybody has a right to laugh at such hum- 
 buggery. Why, Pryor professed sanctification 
 to-day ; and such a spectacle as she made of her- 
 self, shouting and parading that Lowe girl, Minnie 
 Frances, and exhorting her out loud to ' let the 
 world know what the Lord had done for her 
 soul.' " 
 
 Teddy was somewhat reassured, but in a more 
 subdued manner said : 
 
 " They had old Miss Betsey Davis at Captain 
 Jolly's tent ; she was dressed in red flannel, and 
 a bonnet as big as a peck measure, and she said 
 the reason she had not got to the meeting the 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 39 
 
 first day was because ' her old yellow-speckled hen 
 hadn't done hatching — she had tuck a notion to 
 set in her bonnet.' " 
 
 " Poor old woman," said Vivia's pathetic voice, 
 " I suppose it was all the bonnet she had." 
 
 " Don't you take such things too seriously. 
 Miss Lemuir?" asked Teddy, coloring again. 
 
 " The fault of her bringing up, Ted," inter- 
 posed Captain Lemuir. " Our sister Mary, who 
 raised Vivia, is a saint on earth, and I'm mightily 
 afraid Vivia's beginning to be one. I'm sorry on 
 her own account, for saints have a sad time down 
 here." 
 
 Vivia's lips quivered, but she controlled her 
 voice, saying : 
 
 " I wish I were ever likely to be a saint, brother, 
 but I'm much too human, I fear, and feel too 
 strongly the human passions of anger and resent- 
 ment." 
 
 " O sister, spare us ! You have plenty of relig- 
 ion already, and I don't object to it in its place, 
 but honestly now, Vivia, dear, do you believe 
 there is anything divine or supernatural in the 
 nervous excitement that makes people prance 
 over that straw round the mourners' bench?" 
 
 " I've seen them get mad while laughing the 
 ' happy laugh,' " said Mrs. Lemuir. " I bet Pryor 
 could be made mad this minute, sanctified though 
 she pretends to be, — mad enough to fight." 
 
 " I think it is wrong, and lowers the tone of our 
 moral nature to ridicule any thing, or person, con- 
 
40 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 nected with God's church," said Vivia, in an awed 
 voice, and flushing deeply. 
 
 " Stand by your colors, little girl," laughed 
 Captain Lemuir, " and, wife, don't be so hard on 
 Mrs. Pryor; she is a most kind-hearted woman 
 and an excellent neighbor, but easily thrown off 
 her balance. Her head is an interesting specimen, 
 very small in the main, high at marvellousness, 
 veneration and benevolence, deplorably low at 
 comparison and causality. Her nose is her sal- 
 vation, being a long, old Roman, but too much 
 inclined to poke itself into other people's busi- 
 ness. Her chin keeps company with her forehead 
 and retreats rapidly out of sight." The captain's 
 eyes twinkled as he looked quizzically at Vivia, 
 taught by Sister Mary to " speak well of the 
 absent or speak not at all." 
 
 Vivia had read some phrenological magazines, 
 and understood perfectly his technical phrases, 
 but did not utter her thoughts. Mrs. Lemuir, 
 however, was under no restraint, and rejoined in 
 her caustic tones : 
 
 "That's s"omeof your phrenological foolishness. 
 Hubby. I despise the whole thing. The idea of 
 knowing what's in people's heads from the out- 
 side ! The smartest people I ever knew had low 
 foreheads. It's like judging a woman's face from 
 her foot. Women with pretty feet are never 
 pretty." Mrs. Lemuir, by the way, had a low 
 forehead and large feet. 
 
 The week following the camp-meeting Mrs. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 4f 
 
 Lemuir, accompanied by Vivia, went to pay the 
 promised visit to the Milns. The former seemed 
 quite vexed when Vivia presented herself, 
 equipped for the ride. The new dress, she said, 
 did pretty well, but she had taken too short a 
 time to dress, hadn't put on any powder or rouge, 
 which would greatly improve her complexion ; 
 neither had she taken the trouble to roll her hair 
 in papers the night before, and so her bangs 
 were as limp and straight as a skirt without an 
 elastic supporter. 
 
 " It's antediluvian to wear your hair that way. 
 Here, let me show you how to arrange it on top 
 of your head ; and you must just brush those 
 bangs till they are fluffy. You have much too 
 high a forehead for a woman ; men don't admire 
 it, and I — really abominate it. I hate for you to 
 look tackeyish among the most stylish girls in the 
 country." 
 
 It was a long and disagreeable ride, but at 
 length they arrived at " Milnville," the country- 
 seat of the Hon. Joshua Miln, a stately brick 
 villa, whose long colonnades of white pillars im- 
 parted an air of distinction to its ample length 
 and breadth. The house was surrounded by a 
 grove of maples and hickories, but these had cast 
 their leaves and held up bare branches over the 
 bleached, dead grass of the grounds. However, 
 the glass roof of a conservatory glistened at one 
 side of the building, and Vivia pictured to herself 
 the fine exotics blooming there. 
 
42 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 A black footman in livery received them, and 
 conducted them into a magnificent double parlor, 
 the upper and lower parts being divided by rich 
 hangings. Vivia had never seen such excellent 
 furniture, but she glanced at it briefly, being 
 most attracted by the paintings on the walls, 
 which Mrs. Lemuir told her were family por- 
 traits. 
 
 " Here, you see, is Uncle Joshua, in his General's 
 epaulettes, and this is Aunt Henrietta. She wore 
 that costume of ruby velvet at the President's 
 levee, when she and Uncle Joshua were spending 
 their honeymoon in Washington. Those two 
 girls are Aunt Henrietta's daughters when they 
 were little; and these Uncle Joshua's. Aunt 
 Henrietta's are the handsomest, — but here they 
 come ; sit down, Vivia." 
 
 Mrs. Joshua Miln, whom Mrs. Lemuir rose to 
 meet, was of the Juno style, large, and with a 
 slow, dignified way of moving and speaking. She 
 had just flesh enough on her large frame, helped 
 out by art, to save her from being rawboned; 
 her face was wide, nose long, forehead round and 
 polished, black eyes with a brownish tint, and red 
 lips, so thin they were like a line of coral. Jetty 
 braids crowned her head like a coronet, and her 
 black silk dress defined a figure whose curves art 
 had helped to make satisfactory. She spoke in a 
 pleasantly modulated voice, and her manner was 
 the perfection of well-bred cordiality. 
 
 She introduced her eldest step-daughter, Pauline 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 43 
 
 Miln, to Vivia, and her own youngest, Elma 
 Fleetwood. Pauline was tail, blonde, graceful and 
 willowy, and extremely fragile, as appeared from 
 the shadows under the large blue eyes and the 
 transparency of her lily complexion. Elma, on 
 the contrary, was a most brilliant and healthy- 
 looking brunette, her pliant figure curved and 
 rounded in nature's daintiest mould, head proudly 
 poised with coronet of jetty hair, the dusky cheeks 
 aflame with native bloom, the melting midnight 
 eyes aglow with native light ; her brows pencilled 
 arches, lashes black and sweeping, nose Grecian, 
 chin well-defined but dimpled, and the scarlet 
 beautiful lips constantly curving with smiles of 
 self-satisfaction. She suggested a rich, tropic 
 blossom, and Vivia fancied her ideal Spanish or 
 Caucasian beauty before her. Elma executed a 
 bow in her best boarding-school style, Pauline 
 cordially shook hands, and Mrs. Miln wanted to 
 know " how Miss Lemuir liked the country ? " 
 
 She replied that she had not been in it long 
 enough to judge. It " seemed strange and un- 
 familiar." 
 
 " O, all that will pass off as soon as you visit 
 some," said Elma, in a patronizing and complai- 
 sant tone. " Staying so closely at home is giving 
 you narrow impressions. If Cousin Celestia would 
 allow you to remain some days with us now, you 
 would get larger ideas, and think the middle-west 
 the most delightful country in the world ; be- 
 sides," added she, " Cousin Julia Snow will give an 
 
44 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 infair next week, and we will get you an invita- 
 tion and take you with us if you'll stay." 
 
 The young lady spoke in the patronizing tone 
 of a matron, and distinctly took precedence of the 
 mother, whose spoiled darling she was. 
 
 " I'm quite willing to leave her with you," said 
 Mrs. Lemuir. " I want you all to help me rub 
 the rust off your country cousin. Vivia came 
 from Tackeydom, you know, the most old-fogy- 
 ish country in the world. How anybody can live 
 there surprises me. I know I wouldn't survive 
 ten days. They've got the drollest old pokey 
 ways out there you can possibly imagine." 
 
 " Cousin Arthur is not tackeyish, nor pokey 
 either," said Elma, pouting enchantingly, " and 
 no doubt this little sister is as graceful and pro- 
 gressive as he," and she beamed upon Vivia irre- 
 sistibly. 
 
 " Well, we will consider the matter settled," 
 said Mrs. Miln, waving her handsome hand, " and 
 now, Paula, go and tell Jerry to hand some wine. 
 Here is Celia Fleetwood, my daughter, Miss Le- 
 muir. Don't be overwhelmed by the number I 
 have." 
 
 Again Vivia's eyes widened, in beauty-glad- 
 dened wonder. A white exquisitely shaped hand 
 clasped hers, the loveliest opaline eyes smiled a 
 welcome, eyes laughing winsomely beneath white 
 lids ; forehead fair and satiny as a lily petal, un- 
 der puffs of golden hair ; cheeks tinged like a ripe 
 peach ; love himself lurking in the bow of the 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 45 
 
 pomegranate lips. Celia's voice was softer than 
 Elma's, and on the whole the harvest moonlight 
 of her blonde loveliness entranced Vivia more 
 than the starry brightness of her sister. 
 
 " You must show Miss Lemuir the conservatory, 
 girls," said Mrs. Miln. " O, by the way, such a 
 singular phenomenon occurred in there yesterday 
 morning. You remember how brightly the sun 
 shone after the snow-storm of the preceding 
 night? I got up from the breakfast-table and 
 went into the conservatory and carelessly left the 
 door ajar. Suddenly it began to snow right on my 
 blooming pelargoniums, geraniums and fuchsias. 
 I called the General, and he and Pauline ran in 
 in time to see the strange sight. I suppose the 
 slight change of temperature caused by the door 
 being ajar congealed the moisture within and pro- 
 duced the snow.- It didn't do much harm." 
 
 At luncheon Mrs. Miln introduced her other 
 step-daughter, Noisette Miln. 
 
 " Zetta is my little housekeeper, Miss Lemuir. 
 She has been making custard for dinner," ex- 
 plained madame, as the young lady advanced and 
 shook hands, raising a pair of clear brown eyes 
 to look steadfastly into Vivia's. She seemed to 
 read there something that pleased her, for she 
 said cordially, " I hope we shall be good friends." 
 
 She had a refined face, a delicately-cut profile, 
 a large mouth, and a mass of rich Titian red hair 
 flowed wavily over her shoulders. Her voice was 
 very sweet and had a ring of sincerity in it. 
 
46 BEHOLDING AS IN A CLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The next five days might very appropriately 
 have been termed a new chapter in Vivia's ex- 
 periences, so different was the routine to any in 
 her previous life. 
 
 In the first place the early rising to which she 
 had been accustomed since childhood was out of 
 the question here. Doors and windows were not 
 opened, fires were not made, not a soul stirring 
 till eight in the morning. She and the three girls, 
 Elma, Celia and Pauline, occupied a large, richly 
 furnished chamber on the second story, to which 
 opened a small dressing-room used by the four in 
 common. Noisette had a small room all to her- 
 self on the first floor. 
 
 When the maid came to build a fire, she invari- 
 ably brought a waiter on which was hot punch and 
 glasses for the four, and everybody stared and ex- 
 claimed when Vivia declined to drink. 
 
 After the late breakfast, Pauline, Celia, Elma 
 and their guest occupied the sitting-room, where 
 there was a small cabinet piano and guitar for 
 those musically inclined, an unlimited supply of 
 novels and fancy work, and a sewing-machine on 
 which Pauline sometimes worked. Elma played 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 4J 
 
 fairly well and was fond of dashing off gay little 
 waltzes and polkas, but Celia was incurably in- 
 dolent, and unconscionably idle. She never did 
 anything, not even fancy work, and was forever 
 talking about what she would do when she got 
 married. She " would certainly live in some city, 
 for life in the country was the tamest way of 
 wearing soul and body out, under the sun." 
 
 Ensconced in a great crimson-velvet rocker, 
 Celia would half shut her opaline eyes, and while 
 she swayed back and forth, would chaff Pauline 
 about her venerable admirer, the Hon. Adolphus 
 Smith, M. C. 
 
 Noisette always excused herself on the plea of 
 having " something to do in her studio." Before 
 the end of her visit Viviahad made sufficient prog- 
 ress in her good graces to be asked to this studio, 
 and even to see, without its veil, the large picture 
 Noisette was bestowing her best energies upon. In 
 this picture Pauline leaned over the bank of a small 
 stream, thick set with water-lilies, and was in the 
 act of gathering one of the gold-hearted blossoms. 
 Elma sat at the right on the great roots of an old 
 " hurricane tree " (vernacular for tree upheaved 
 by the wind). She also bent forward, but to gaze 
 smilingly at her own image in the clear water. 
 Her black braids were crowned with blood-red 
 poppies, and she wore a great bunch of them on 
 her breast. 
 
 At one o'clock luncheon Noisette joined the 
 9ircle iri the sitting-room, and Vivia soon learne(J 
 
48 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 to look for her coming eagerly, for she invariably 
 gave wings to the hours by introducing some live 
 topic of conversation, or reading aloud. Diffident 
 as Vivia was. Noisette had the tact to draw her 
 out, and to discover the originality of her 
 thought. 
 
 At luncheon Mrs. Miln was sure to say : 
 
 " Now, girls, I think you need some exercise. 
 Suppose you have a few games of croquet," and 
 to the croquet grounds they at once resorted, and 
 played till time to dress for dinner. 
 
 This was the final and most ceremonious meal 
 of the day, and generally enlivened by one or two 
 gentlemen guests. In the long evening which 
 followed, there was Elma's gay music, two or three 
 waltzes round the room by Celia and Pauline, 
 games of cards, at which Vivia declined to take a 
 hand, and was only too glad when left to talk 
 with Noisette ; and bed-time at 11:30 or 12 
 o'clock. 
 
 The charm of the evening to Vivia, however, 
 was when Elma softly played some touching 
 ballad to which Noisette sang the words, with 
 fervor and pathos. Elma never attempted to 
 sing, being like some beautiful tropic bird with- 
 out a voice. Poor Vivia, with a natural aptitude 
 for music, painting and sculpture, had enjoyed no 
 opportunities of taking lessons in either, but her 
 undeveloped talents at least gave her a sense of 
 enjoyment in good music, fine paintings and 
 sculptured figures. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 49 
 
 On the day of the " infair " the five girls were 
 stowed in the large carriage, Celia sitting with the 
 driver. They were late starting on their journey 
 of fifteen miles, and the roads .being almost im- 
 passible from slush and gulleys, it was dark long 
 before they reached their destination. Their ex- 
 periences, Zetta said, reminded her of Mr. Dickens's 
 " American Notes." 
 
 Mrs. Julia Snow lived in an unpretentious, but 
 large log house, with five rooms. Into one of 
 these the girls were hurried, the two main rooms 
 being given up to the guests and company already 
 arrived. 
 
 It was a clean little snuggery into which the 
 girls went to make their toilets, amid much smoth- 
 ered laughter, when it was discovered there was 
 but one looking-glass. Here was a field for a dis- 
 play of character ; and Vivia noticed Elma's un- 
 wonted haste in taking possession of the one mir- 
 ror and monopolizing it, while she donned her 
 costume. Pauline was almost in hysterics from 
 laughing at and chaffing Elma, and, with her slow 
 movements, was the last to get ready. 
 
 Celia seemed amused too, at first, but presently 
 became indignant with Sis, and remonstrated in 
 no measured terms ; while Zetta, whose voice had 
 a tone of amusement, quietly said, " Vivia, we 
 will be looking-glasses for each other." 
 
 To Vivia's surprise she saw Elma use various 
 toilette appliances to heighten her beauty, and, 
 just as she was giving the finishing touches to her 
 
50 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 eyebrows, Celia with a laugh snatched the look- 
 ing-glass, and a romp ensued at which the Caro- 
 linian looked on aghast. Elma tried to get the 
 glass from Celia, who called for Paula to help, and 
 she, in hysterics of glee, rushing away with it, 
 broke Elma's bottle of cologne and overturned the 
 water-pitcher. Elma, flying after her, had her 
 beautifully arranged hair mussed by Celia, upon 
 whom she turned like a little fury, leaving the 
 print of her teeth on her sister's arm, while the 
 lock of blonde hair she pulled out by the roots from 
 Paula's head she waved as an Indian might the 
 scalp he had taken. The two blondes gave up 
 and let Elma keep possession of the glass, which, 
 however, gave back a distorted image, for in the 
 course of the romp it had been cracked. 
 
 Elma wore yellow satin and scarlet poppies, 
 Celia pink silk and moss rose-buds, Pauline blue 
 tulle, spangled with silver stars, while Noisette, 
 like Vivia, in simplest white, with not a single jewel, 
 kept the poor girl in countenance, and inspired 
 her to look beneath these dazzling surfaces and 
 think more highly of genius and goodness 
 than mere beauty of flesh and blood and fine 
 attire. 
 
 The scene in the great room of Mrs. Snow's big 
 log-house was an interesting one as the bevy of 
 young ladies from Milnville entered. There was 
 already a goodly crowd of people and a low buzz 
 of talk. In many instances whole families had 
 come, and a glance took in father, mother, grown 
 
Beholding as in a glass. 51 
 
 daughter, children of all sizes and ages, and the 
 family dog. 
 
 It was a purely democratic gathering, and you 
 could hear all sorts of discussions going on. Farm- 
 er Lowe, telling how many lambs he had lost in 
 the sleet-storm last week, Mrs. Hardwyn discuss- 
 ing the price of cotton with Major Snow, and 
 pretty Emma Pryor, already flirting with Teddy 
 Norwood. 
 
 There were not many men as yet, however, in 
 the big best room ; they were mostly in the pas- 
 sage or porch, or out seeing to the horses. 
 Supper, the fiddle and dancing would bring 
 them in. 
 
 A good many of the matrons were in the sup- 
 per-room assisting Mrs. Snow, and some of the 
 mothers with babies were clustered round the fire 
 in one of the back bedrooms, having a good time 
 talking over the neighborhood gossip. 
 
 Vivia found herself seated by Noisette, and 
 directly listening to a group of elderly farmers. 
 Said one of these, turning his tobacco-quid in his 
 mouth : 
 
 " It's been a mighty bad crop year ; too much 
 rain in summer, raining, so to speak, the whole of 
 July, and not a drop in August. Cotton on my 
 farm was just drownded out and wroppedup in 
 weeds. No, sir, there wus no sich thing as cleanin' 
 it out after that, an' it tuck the rust, an' I didn't 
 make a third of a crop." 
 
 " Nor I nuther," said number two ; " my cotton 
 
S2 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 crop wus short an' corn shorter ; nuthin' but nub- 
 bins. The Lord knows what we'll do. This here 
 livin' on Illinoy wheat and Ohio bacon ruins us 
 farmers in Arkansas," 
 
 " Oh ! " said number three, " we'll do better than 
 we ever did ; folks'!! draw in their horns and quit 
 mortgaging their crops 'fore they are planted, in 
 big store accounts. Besides, labor is going to be 
 cheaper. The niggers is about run aground, 
 farmin' on their own hook, and they are going to 
 be easy to hire ; and I for one am glad because I 
 don't believe in one side havin' all the advantages ; 
 and up to this time the advantages has been on 
 the nigger's side. We all thought the landholders 
 of the kintry was bound to have a preponderat- 
 ing weight in the government ; it ain't turned out 
 so ; they ain't weighed nothin' against numbers of 
 nigger ignoramuses ; " saying which he got up, at 
 a wink from Major Snow, and the others followed 
 to Aunt Julia's pantry where they drank from a 
 flask of real old " North Kaliney corn-whiskey." 
 
 Meantime Elma had been invited to the piano, 
 and was making the room resound with a gay 
 fantasia. Celia was the centre of a group of ad- 
 mirers, and Pauline was chatting with some girls, 
 when a gentleman entered the room in company 
 with Jack Snow, the richest young farmer in the 
 country. Jack was a careless fellow as to dress, 
 but this friend was a Beau Brummell in the ex- 
 quisiteness of his get-up, and with his glossy black 
 curls, sparkling black eyes and long white fingers, 
 
BEHOLDING AS /M A GLASS. 53 
 
 (on one of which shone a large diamond), at once 
 became the cynosure of all eyes. 
 
 " Who's that Jack Snow's got in tow now ? " 
 asked some one. 
 
 " O, that's a sort of French Jew from New Or- 
 leans. He went fox-hunting with us boys yester- 
 day, and he never knowed the fox when he 
 saw him. We all went on a drive last week to 
 Lost Lake, and this Recamier was along ; he's 
 kin to Jack Snow by his mother's side, but we all 
 was nearly tickled to death at his ignorance. He 
 knowed no more 'bout a gun than a baby does 
 'bout a poker, and EUie Humbolt overloaded his 
 rifle and got Recamier to shoot at old George 
 Lowe's cow ; told him it was a deer, and the rifle 
 kicked him and over he went sprawling, in his vel- 
 vet hunting-suit ; but seems like he's perfectly at 
 home among the ladies. Look at Jack now intro- 
 ducin' of him to Miss Pauline Miln. My, what a 
 stunner she is ! See, she's taken his arm and gone 
 to promenade with him. St. James Creek ! how 
 I wish I could make myself that sweet to a 
 woman ! " 
 
 " Miss Lemuir, let me introduce you to Miss 
 Pryor," and Vivia turned to shake hands, country 
 fashion, with an exceedingly pretty, short, fat 
 young lady, who broke out impulsively with — 
 
 " Mamma told me to be sure and get acquainted 
 with you, she thinks so much of your brother, 
 Arthur, and you are one of our nearest neighbors." 
 
 Teddy Norwood having gone through with this 
 
54 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 introduction, turned to Noisette and asked her to 
 promenade with him. 
 
 There was dancing now going on in a large 
 detached house connected with the main building 
 by a covered way ; and to this Teddy and Zetta 
 presently betook themselves, while Miss Pryor's 
 hand was claimed by Jack Snow, whom the fat 
 young lady familiarly addressed as " Jack " and 
 whom she quizzingly plied with conundrums out 
 of last year's almanac. 
 
 Meantime no couple excited so much attention 
 as Pauline Miln and Monsieur August Julien Re- 
 camier ; the girl, so suggestive of a tall white lily, 
 the man with his face of glowing, magnetic dark- 
 ness, his jetty curls, his sparkling eyes, his French 
 words besprinkling his English, and his foreign air 
 of excessive gallantry. He danced with Paula, 
 took her in to supper, and in short monopolized 
 her. Elma whispered to her, " Paula, are you 
 crazy ? what do you mean ? " but the deep blue 
 eyes only laughed at her, and directly the stylish 
 figure was whirled away in another waltz, Re- 
 camier's diamond flashing from his white finger 
 on her waist. 
 
 Mr. Adolphus Smith, M. C. elect, an elderly 
 widower, with long waxed moustache, a swagger- 
 ing gait and grandiloquent manner, made an im- 
 pression on Elma, who was surprised that he did 
 not offer himself at once. Indeed, the young 
 lady felt that if she could only be seen in St. 
 Petersburg she would be certain to captivate a 
 
Beholding as in a glass. sS 
 
 grand duke, whom on certain grounds she thought 
 preferable to any English duke. " The Russians 
 are so ' chic ' you know," she said, and if she 
 married an M. C, he might get an appointment to 
 Russia. 
 
 Celia had a crowd of admirers, but not one that 
 she set any value upon. Vivia's enjoyment was 
 not of an exciting nature, she merely looked on, 
 observing the manifestations of human nature 
 with those young-old eyes of hers. She heard 
 very little intelligent conversation — the talk being 
 chiefly children's ailments, the weather, hog-killing, 
 prospective marriages, recent births and deaths, 
 among the elderly people. She only received 
 enough attention to save her from being one of 
 the wall-flowers of the party. Teddie Norwood 
 took her to supper and introduced her to a 
 preacher. He was elderly and married, but Vivia 
 struck up quite a friendship with him. 
 
56 BEHOLblkd AS IN A GLAS§. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ViviA was writing in her room in the garret, at 
 her express request partitioned off by some large, 
 portable screens, she and the captain having fixed 
 up a tiny little stove to warm it. It was a very 
 humble lodging-place, with its slanting roof and 
 two small dormer windows, its rough walls and 
 rougher floor ; but this last was covered with 
 crocus bags, which Vivia herself had ironed 
 smoothly and sewed together, and she had made 
 two cheerful looking rugs of blue and red strips, 
 composed of a red flannel petticoat and an old 
 blue worsted dress that Mrs. Lemuir had told her 
 she might get out of the chest of disused clothes 
 up garret. The room had rather an attractive 
 aspect, and indicated the taste of its occupant. 
 
 There were some books on a hanging shelf, 
 fringed with blue and white paper, and a stone jar 
 contained a cluster of holly branches and a spray 
 of mistletoe. 
 
 The view from the dormer window was inspir- 
 ing to Vivia just now, for it was break of dawn, 
 and the sky brightening with a soft clearness. 
 The east was shining in rosy streaks of transpar- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 57 
 
 ent vapor, while underneath the fair and lovely 
 heavens the earth seemed to define its various 
 forms in a translucent darkness, directly changing 
 to more distinct hues of perfect daylight. 
 
 Taking a long breath at the open window, she 
 drew in her head and addressed herself again to 
 the task of deciphering the pencilling on sundry 
 bits of yellow paper, and transferring them, in an 
 improved and almost transmogrified state, with 
 pen and ink, to some narrow strips of long, white 
 foolscap. For, in truth, I may as well take you 
 into my confidence, reader, and tell you that this 
 little heroine of mine was engaged in writing a 
 novel, under such difficulties as might have over- 
 come the stoutest heart. She had no time to 
 write during the day, there was so much to see 
 about the house, so much sewing to do, and the 
 children to teach. She was so sleepy when she 
 came upstairs she was obliged to go to bed, so 
 her only plan was to get up before day, when 
 there was no bewilderment of bothers, and every- 
 body else asleep ; then her thoughts seemed to 
 flow clearly and happily. 
 
 She laid down her pen and took up a newspaper 
 containing a character sketch of a woman. Cap- 
 tain Lemuir had reached home the night before, 
 about nine o'clock, but had insisted on reading 
 this article to Vivia and his wife, his eyes twink- 
 ling with fun while he read it. He had dwelt on 
 the quaint delineation with fervor, remarking, as 
 he finished — 
 
58 BEHOLDING AS I^ A GLASS. 
 
 " I would like to know who wrote that. It's as 
 good in its way as ' Betsy and I are Out.' The 
 fellow that did it has made my speech, as Cousin 
 Euclid More said when he heard the governor 
 speak. What do you think of it, Vivia dear ? " 
 
 The girl's eyes sparkled ; this praise of her own 
 production (her own painstaking evolvement 
 from bits of crude thought, and written at odd 
 times on yellow covers of magazines and papers, 
 this precious piece of brain-creation), was very 
 sweet ; but Mrs. Lemuir strongly disapproved. 
 
 " Who ever wrote that thing's got no heart," 
 she said ; " caricaturing and making fun of some 
 poor woman. Men are the animals that need 
 taking off." 
 
 " But whoever wrote this knows more about 
 women than men. Let her write them up by all 
 means," said Captain Lemuir. 
 
 While re-reading and laughing over it now, 
 Vivia thought, " If my first effort merits such 
 praise, I will work, work, work, and see if I cannot 
 write my name alongside Charlotte Bronte's and 
 Miss Burney's." 
 
 She therefore addressed herself to the task of 
 re-writing, improving and variously altering the 
 opening chapters of a novel with such concentrated 
 endeavor that four closely-written pages, quite 
 free of errors as to spelling, punctuation, capitals 
 and grammar, were ready to put away in the tray 
 of her trunk by the time she heard the servants 
 stirring downstairs. Then she put on a long 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 59 
 
 apron, tied on a veil, protected her hands with 
 gloves, and went down to sweep the dining-room, 
 arrange the breakfast-table, and give some tasteful 
 touches to the sitting-room. 
 
 Just as the morning meal was finished, a poor, 
 pale, pitiful-looking old woman, in a thin purple 
 shawl, entered without rapping, whom Captain 
 Lemuir named to his sister as " Aunt Diddie 
 Thorpe." 
 
 The old woman hardly stopped to thaw her 
 hands and face before she began to tell her tale 
 of woe. 
 
 Her only son, a wilful boy, had persisted in 
 going to California a year ago, with a party of 
 young men who agreed to pay his expenses if he 
 would go as cook for them. After getting there 
 and roughing it in the mining camp he had had 
 a spell of coast fever, and aow wrote that he would 
 " come home for good and all if mammy would 
 send him fifty dollars." " And I'm a gwine to 
 do it," said the old woman, the tears streaming 
 from her eyes, " ef the Lord'U help me. I've 
 washed for folks till my han's is raw betwixt the 
 fingers, and now I'm beggin' roun' for a loan. 
 Here's my note, Cappen, writ by Miss Pryor. 
 She's loant me ten dollars, and I want you to let 
 me have forty." 
 
 The captain flushed hotly, looked at his wife, 
 got up and went into the next room and asked 
 her to step there a minute. Their voices could be 
 heard, his coaxing, hers short, angry and remon- 
 
6o BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 strative. They came back, the wife's face clouded 
 and ill-humored, Lemuir's with a shamed look. 
 
 " I've only ten dollars, Aunt Diddie, I'll give 
 you that ; wish I had the forty for you." 
 
 " O Cappen ! O Mis' Lemuir," burst out the 
 woman, " you-uns is the richest neighbors I got, 
 and what shall I do if you won't help me ? I'll 'turn 
 it every cent back. Mis' Celestia, you know what a 
 worker I is. Why, I've ploughed and made craps 
 many a year, and your old daddie knowed I allers 
 paid my debts. I know you can lend me the 
 money. Misses Muir, if Cappen can't. Dropping 
 on her knees before the now thoroughly provoked 
 lady, she continued : " The Cappen axed you 
 'bout it cause he got his prop'ty by you. It's a 
 fine plantation, an' you won't never miss what you 
 'vance to me, an' the Scripter says, 'He that gives 
 to the poor lends to the Lord.' " 
 
 " I don't like that kind of security," said Mrs. 
 Lemuir, in high fighting tones, " and one thing's 
 certain, you won't get it from me, not if I know 
 myself. At the rate Captain Lemuir is going on, 
 wasting and giving, lending and going security, I 
 won't have a roof over my head in ten years ; but 
 the thing's got to stop, and the sooner everybody 
 knows it the better. Now, Mrs. Thorpe, there's 
 the door, I won't be annoyed by you any longer." 
 
 The bent figure rose and hobbled out, with her 
 apron to her eyes, and Vivia, turning round to 
 say a pleading word for the poor soul, found her- 
 self alone. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 6l 
 
 As for Captain Lemuir, he did not make his 
 appearance in the family circle till the next morn- 
 ing. But his wife's bottled-up anger was then 
 poured out on his offending head, so that the 
 sounds of the marital battle reached Vivia in her 
 garret chamber. 
 
 " If that is what marriage means," she thought, 
 " I pray to be delivered from such bondage." 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Lemuir's ill-humor 
 vented itself to such a degree on the cook, that 
 Candace, after " sassing her back," immediately 
 left ; whereupon, in an excess of spleen, Mrs. 
 Lemuir ordered Lambmy, who helped the captain 
 to feed, cut wood and the like, to get the buggy 
 and drive her to Aunt Henrietta Miln's. 
 
 She carried Geraldine with her, but left Gerald 
 howling lamentably on the front gate, to which 
 he had hung after being forcibly taken out of the 
 buggy by Lambmy, who held him for his mother to 
 switch after she got herself settled in the vehicle. 
 
 Vivia was not at all daunted by the situation ; her 
 training under Sister Mary, in domestic pursuits, 
 had made her mistress of it. She first put herself 
 in proper form, in a large apron with long sleeves, 
 huge pocket, and a kettle-holder which she had 
 brought with her from Pineland. Then she put 
 the kitchen or stove-room to rights. The cook, 
 not tidy at best, had, in her burning anger, left 
 things in more disorder than usual. 
 
 A dozen bad-smelling articles confronted Vivia. 
 One vessel closely covered up contained the re- 
 
62 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 mains of yesterday's cabbage, and emitted a most 
 sickening odor. The stove she thoroughly cleaned, 
 taking out ashes, emptying pipe of soot, and 
 finally giving it a neat coat of polish. The 
 vessels she scrubbed with sapolio, scoured the 
 tables, swept the walls as high as she could reach, 
 put clean newspapers on the shelves, filled a 
 vessel with salt and put it in handy reach from 
 the stove. 
 
 At last, having accomplished wonders for the 
 looks and atmosphere of the stove-room, she sat 
 down and prepared the vegetables for dinner, 
 resting her little feet while she picked the rice 
 and washed the potatoes. 
 
 While thus engaged the captain and Gerald 
 came in, the former with a hat full of eggs. 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! " he cried, when he saw the trans- 
 formation of Candace's domain;" why, sissie, what 
 a magician you are ! This place is nice enough for 
 a man to read his paper in. I'll go and get 
 'Quentin Durward,' and enliven your mind with 
 accounts of the doings of the Countesses of Croye 
 while you are engaged in these menial labors ; 
 but seriously, sissie, you ought not to be ' put 
 upon.' Why should you allow yourself to suffer 
 from another's ill-regulated temper ? I have hired 
 another cook and she will be here presently." 
 
 " O, well, brother, everything will be ready for 
 her, and she. can go right ahead with dinner. Be- 
 sides, on the whole, I've enjoyed demonstrating 
 what I could do in this way." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 63 
 
 The girl, Eliza, now appeared, and Vivia, after 
 superintending her till the meal was almost ready 
 to take up, went to her room and refreshed her- 
 self with a sponge bath and clean clothes, coming 
 down in time to set the table and preside over 
 dinner. 
 
 Mrs. Lemuir did not return, and Vivia, having 
 put the lamps in nice order, lighted them and got 
 her sewing, expecting her brother to read aloud 
 to her. This he proceeded to do from the work 
 of an eminent scientist, chaining her attention 
 by the witchery of his eloquent intonation and 
 earnest manner, though the subject matter was 
 not to her taste. Shutting the book at last, he 
 said in a serious tone, though at the same time 
 watching her amusedly from under his half-closed 
 lids. 
 
 " It's curious now, isn't it, little girl " (the name 
 by which he loved best to call her), " it is strange 
 to think of one's being peddled 'round in the 
 shape of peanuts, yet strange as 'tis, 'tis true. 
 I expect myself to be vended in this very market 
 as corn-nubbins or pig-hams, some day. You, my 
 Vivia, years afterwards (I'm older than you, recol- 
 lect), will -be hiding your coy head as a violet in 
 the shadow of some old decaying log." He 
 stopped to laugh at her dismay. 
 
 " Is that the doctrine of evolution, brother ? " 
 she said, so seriously that he fairly shook with 
 laughter ; then quieting down, he continued : 
 
 " It's a just deduction from the teachings of 
 
64 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 science, sister. Don't you perceive that, according 
 to Professor Huxley, animals, including man, have 
 a common origin with plants, and plants are but 
 developments from the vital molecules of the 
 stone ? — a mere progression in form of matter, 
 you observe, from the green mould of the ditch 
 to the whispering tree and blushing rose ; from 
 the condition of a sponge to that of a philosopher. 
 Come to think of it now, our friend Lambmy is 
 very well typified in the sponge, defined by the 
 learned savant as a low form of life, deriving its 
 support from something else. In Lambmy's case 
 I am the something else. Here I've been feeding 
 and clothing that intolerable nuisance for years 
 and never gotten anything out of him, except such 
 work as I ought to have done myself. Lambmy, 
 however, is brilliantly exceptional in 'one way. 
 The great naturalist furnishes us the sublimest 
 test, distinguishing the animal from the vegetable, 
 the fact that the ' former can only feed upon or- 
 ganized substances.' Our sheepish friend will de- 
 liberately eat clay or chalk, and, at a pinch, dirt, 
 for I've seen him do it." The captain laughed 
 again, but Vivia didn't join and presently asked : 
 " Brother, you are not in earnest ? " 
 " Indeed I am. I am trying to instruct you in 
 the sublime teachings of science, of which yoq 
 profess to be ignorant. It is unfamiliar, and 
 therefore you are unprepared to receive it as 
 truth ; and I have made it funny, I suppose, by 
 my mode of illustration, But we have facts, act- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 65 
 
 ual exoeriment . to prove that plants are the pur- 
 '-tyors ot animal life, the store-house of the 
 sun-force, which the animal directs under the lim- 
 itations of natural law. Now, what makes you a 
 poetic little thinker, bubbling over with generous 
 impulses and lofty ambitions, while poor Lambmy 
 is only a human sponge whose highest good in 
 life ' is sumthin' to eat ' no matter how coarse and 
 ill-prepared ? Only that you have a finer quality 
 of sun-force stored up for your use, through your 
 ancestors ; and they, through their habits of body, 
 reduced ultimately to the food that nourished 
 their brains and bodies. See that graceful moss 
 you have twisted round my photograph up there ! 
 — look at the log of hickory in its red glow of 
 dissolution 1 Both are of protoplasmic origin. 
 There's a colony of ants in the end of that log, 
 quite excited in view of the conflagration by 
 which they will be helpless sufferers, poor things ! 
 If I had seen them in time, that log, their house 
 of refuge, should not have been put on the fire. 
 Well, those ants and our blackbirds, whose even- 
 ing flight you like to watch, are all alike built up 
 of tiny cells, filled with a watery, ever-moving 
 fluid, it being the raw material of all forms of life. 
 Every word you speak, my Vivia, every kiss you 
 give, every tear you shed, destroys some of these 
 nerve-cells of life, which are replenished from the 
 food we eat, the air we breathe ; so that what 
 was a corn-silk last year, is now, perhaps, a strand 
 in this lock pf your bonny brpwn hair ; the peach 
 5 
 
66 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 ripened in some old orchard in ' the land we love,' 
 lives now in this soft cheek of yours ; and this 
 cheek will sometime be a rose again in the great 
 cycle of life." 
 
 " But, brother," said Vivia, " all this seems to 
 me to bear injuriously on the independent exist- 
 ence of the soul ? " 
 
 " It does to this extent — there can be no or- 
 ganic life without matter, no manifestation of 
 mind without the intervention of grosser material 
 than itself. The doctrine of a life to come can- 
 not be established by physiological evidence. 
 Spiritualism professes to demonstrate it, but I 
 have not yet seen it proved." 
 
 " But, brother, we shall live again after death ? 
 O, I could not bear to doubt it ! " and the small 
 hands were clasped pathetically, as though some- 
 thing upon which she had always depended to 
 right life's wrongs was being wrested from her, by 
 one she knew not how to resist. 
 
 " I don't expect to," he said indifferently. 
 
 " O, brother ! " she broke out impulsively, and 
 her voice had the ring of sharp pain in it, " how 
 can you be so faithless? Surely these souls of 
 ours, our very selves, are not to be forever depend- 
 ent on these frail, perishing bodies ? If I can 
 live without my arm or my foot, why may I not 
 go on Hving when the whole house of this taber- 
 nacle is dissolved ? I feel as surely that my soul 
 is an entity, separate from my body, and able to 
 live without it, as that this earth could go 
 
BEHOLDINQ AS W A GLASS. 6? 
 
 On without the moon, or the sun without the 
 earth." 
 
 " That is only a comparison ; it proves nothing. 
 However, sister, I would not deprive you of a 
 comforting faith, but I saw you had crude, narrow 
 notions on scientific subjects, and thought per- 
 haps I might help you without interfering with 
 your religion. For instance, what religionists call 
 Providence is simply the operation of nature's 
 fixed laws. Rain comes, not in answer to prayer, 
 but in answer to certain conditions. You take 
 cold because you have exposed yourself to a 
 draught, or imbibed some impure element, not 
 because you have neglected going to church, as I 
 expect you have often done penance, by think- 
 mg. 
 
 " No, I'm not so silly as that^ and I can under- 
 stand such natural operations as the result of 
 God's laws, and as perfectly consistent with His 
 revealed Word ; but that Word of His impresses 
 us with the importance of prayer, and I believe 
 experience will demonstrate to us that if we neg- 
 lect prayer we shut ourselves out of communion 
 with God. If Christ rose from the dead, we also, 
 who believe in Him, may hope to hve again ! " 
 
 "Science sheds no light on the hereafter," said 
 he earnestly. 
 
 " I think it does by inference, brother. ' I 
 know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He will 
 stand at the last day upon the earth. ' " 
 
 " O, well, sister, science calls for positive proof ; 
 
68 BEHdLbikG As IN- A GLASS. 
 
 science says, ' Bottle the thunder and lightning, 
 bring it down from the clouds, and let me see the 
 flash and feel the shock, then I'll beheve.' " 
 
 " There you are wrong, brother, for in such 
 cases there would be no room for faith. When 
 you had seen, it would be certainty ; and ' faith 
 is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence 
 of things not seen.' Faith is well pleasing to God. 
 The Scriptures give many instances, and St. Paul 
 sums up by saying, ' These all obtained a good 
 report by faith ; ' and in the nineteenth verse of 
 the same chapter of Hebrews, speaking of Isaac's 
 restoration after the faith of his father had 
 offered him up, he declares the doctrine of the 
 resurrection was known to and believed in by 
 Abraham in these words, ' Accounting that 
 God was able to raise him up, even from the 
 dead, from whence he also received him in a 
 figure.' " 
 
 " O well, sissie dear, I can't say I'm very fa- 
 miliar with the Scriptures ; I never was much of a 
 Sunday school boy. I used to be mighty apt to 
 run off Sunday mornings and go in swimming or 
 fishing. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps the 
 matter of the body only changes its form by 
 death, only gets rid of the state in which it at 
 present exists. Perhaps that old idea of the 
 Platonic school, metempsychosis, may be the 
 correct one. Who knows (assuming a light tone), 
 but that you once lived as Hypatia and I as 
 Theon, and some day we may both be birds and 
 
BEHOLDtNC AS W A GLASS. 69 
 
 live among the live oaks on the white sandy 
 shore of our dear old home ? " 
 
 Vivia shuddered. 
 
 " Not Hypatia," she said. 
 
 " Why, my girlie, she is one of the loveliest 
 figures in history ; but I suppose you do not ad- 
 mire her because she was a pagan." 
 
 " No, I was thinking about Charles Kingsley's 
 story of her — so horrible. That book and Bul- 
 wer's ' Last Days of Pompeii ' agonized me." 
 
 " Yes, they are dramatic. You remember the 
 scene in the amphitheatre at Pompeii ? But it 
 is really not so powerful as Hypatia's death- 
 scene. Ah ! sissie, you like Kingsley because 
 he is a reverend. Now I dislike preachers and 
 priests. Mother Church may be admirable, the 
 Bible may be sublime, I can even admire the 
 poetic figure of the sun standing still in the valley 
 of Ajalon, but I don't propose to be the slave of 
 any creed. I prefer to study nature, and look 
 with my own eyes into the revelations she makes 
 of herself." 
 
 " But, brother, what is nature but God's mani- 
 festations ? I think the very flowers are most 
 exquisite exponents of His designing goodness, 
 and I ask nothing better to increase my faith 
 than study of nature, — God's handiwork." 
 
 " Possibly you are right," said Captain Lemuir. 
 
 " But, brother, " continued Vivia, in an awed 
 and eager tone, " how do you feel when you think 
 about dying? " 
 
70 BEBOLDING AS m A GLASS. 
 
 " Feel?" said he dreamily, looking into the fire 
 with eyes that seemed seeking' some lost, loved, 
 well-remembered face ; " well, I don't think 
 about it often, but when I do it is always as 
 something that will give me infinite repose ; and 
 sometimes, when I draw the cover up as I lie 
 down at night, I wish it were the kindly covering 
 of clods which will one day be heaped on my 
 breast. For what is death ? 
 
 " ' 'Tis but a pang, and then a thrill, 
 A fever fit, and then a chill, 
 And then an end of human ill.' " 
 
 " Of human ill, brother, yes ; but how about 
 ' that country from whose bourne no traveller 
 returns ? ' " 
 
 " I know nothing of it ; but in this life, — 
 
 " ' Of error, ignorance and strife, 
 Where nothing is, but all things seem, 
 And we but shadows of a dream, 
 It is a modest creed, and yet 
 Pleasant, if we consider it, 
 To own that death itself must be, 
 Like all the rest, a mockery.' " 
 
 " Ah ! but the mockery is in our own hearts, 
 dear brother; far better 'approach thy grave 
 sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust ' — a 
 trust in the Redeemer, who took upon Him the 
 burden of human flesh and 'was in all points 
 tempted, like as we are, yet without sin ; ' a High- 
 priest made perfect through suffering, who. can 
 
BEHOLbWC AS IN A GLASS. Ji 
 
 be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, and 
 who ever liveth to make intercession for us." 
 
 " You almost persuade me, little sister, and you 
 remind me of the happiest days of my life, my 
 care-free boyhood in old All-Saints' Parish. You 
 were so tiny a toddler when we moved from there 
 you cannot remember ; but well do I recall that 
 live-oak shaded home, the mock-orange avenue 
 and the big magnolia trees. Our front yard was 
 a wide, grassy ridge sloping to the marsh, over 
 which the tide came from the outside rim of wide 
 blue sea. How I used to love to lie on the sands, 
 swim in the surf, and listen to the voice of the 
 sea, or watch the white waves ' kneel down on the 
 shore,' or lash it in time of storm ! O, with what 
 delight I studied the sails that came up from 
 the under world or sank beneath the verge ; ' 
 and oh ! what dreams I dreamed of the future ! 
 We were a rich old family then, and little I recked, 
 in those halcyon days, when I lorded it over a crowd 
 of devoted negro boys, of the farce of farming in 
 an Arkansas bottom with a pack of freedmen, 
 and — and — other unpleasant concomitants. Then 
 I used to fancy, in the first years of my exile to 
 this accursed country, that I would coin money, 
 and go back and buy the dear old home and die 
 there. But that, Jike all my dreams, has perished. 
 Sister, I've kept you up unconscionably late ; 
 poor little girl ! you do have a hard time. For- 
 give my foolish philosophy, and good-night, you 
 dear little comforter." 
 
72 BEHOLDING AS IN A CLASS, 
 
 " But, brother, let me read you a few verses 
 first. These are in the Epistle to the Romans. 
 
 " ' For if we have been planted together in like- 
 ness of His death, we shall also be in likeness of 
 His resurrection : 
 
 " ' Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe we 
 shall also live with Him : 
 
 " ' Knowing that C hrist being raised from the 
 dead, death hath no more dominion over Him.' 
 
 " See here again at the twentieth verse : 
 
 " ' For when you were the servants of sin, ye 
 were free from righteousness ; but now being 
 made free from sin ye have your fruit unto holi- 
 ness, and the end everlasting life.' " 
 
 The day after this conversation Vivia had a 
 letter from her sister Mary, in which she told her 
 that her family had been enlarged by the addi- 
 tion of a boarder and a nurse-girl ; that the 
 teacher of the Cross-Roads school, Mrs. Laura 
 Dorsey, was now installed in what had been 
 Vivia's bedroom, and that a poor, hair-lipped girl, 
 the daughter of a drunkard, had run away from 
 his brutal blows and come to Mrs. Newsome beg- 
 ging to be allowed to stay as nurse for Baby 
 Nell. 
 
 " Ortemissy," as she called herself (Artemisia 
 was no doubt her name), had shown herself ca- 
 pable, and she and the new boarder helped to fill 
 the vacuum left by Vivia. As to Mrs. Dorsey, 
 Sister Mary wrote that she was " singularly 
 quiet, yet when she does speak it is most un- 
 
^eMdtDlA'd AS W A GLASS. 
 
 73 
 
 commonly to the purpose. Her weighty words, 
 backed by tremendous strength of conviction, 
 have a power of seed-planting for her advanced 
 ideas that makes me think of a bull-tongue or 
 subsoil plough, tearing up roots and pulverizing 
 earth. 
 
 " She is a widow, and tells me she lost three 
 children successively at birth. As a teacher we are 
 charmed with her power to govern, in which she 
 is far ahead of any man we have ever tried. She 
 has brought an organ with her, and has bright- 
 ened up the parlor with her crayon sketches and 
 water-colors. I am renewing my music under her 
 instruction, and her earnest and scholarly talk 
 is a great stimulus to me. She has discovered 
 genius in Ortemissy's rough pencil-drawings, 
 and is teaching her. On the whole she has put 
 new life and blessedness into our home." 
 
74 BEtiOLDlkG AS IN A GIasS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Why, Captain Lemuir, how do you do ? Have 
 you really brought Miss Vivia to see us ? " cried 
 Mrs. Pryor, running out to meet the brother and 
 sister as they drove up to her gate in a buggy. 
 " Well, now, this is a treat. We've been looking 
 for you ever since Emma called on Miss Vivia. 
 Come right in ; it's purty cold this morning. 
 You, Jane ! " (calling loudly) " come right here and 
 make the fire burn ! Well, Captain, what's the 
 news ? Most done gettin' cotton out ? My 
 gracious Fathers ! It's such slow work in this 
 country. Out in Carolina people get through in 
 October ; and here it is pushing on towards 
 Christmas, and fields white yet. It just wears 
 me out, the way these freedmen work. In Mr. 
 Pryor's lifetime there wasn't no such carryings- 
 on as this — darkeys a dancin' and havin' cake- 
 walks at night, and doing nothin' in the day- 
 time. And cotton ain't wuth nothin' noway, 
 after you gets it picked. I 'clare to goodness, 
 after you've done payin' off hands an' payin' for 
 the ginnin', an' the packin', and the haulin' over 
 these awful roads, there's mighty little left to go 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 75 
 
 into your pocket. Farmin' don't pay, Cappen, 
 'less a body owns bottom lands, like your Ridley 
 place." 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Pryor, I think my place pays least 
 of anybody's. It's time my renters usually pay 
 their rents and the bulk of their store accounts, 
 but every one of them is still somewhat in debt 
 to me." 
 
 " You surprise me, Cappen. I had an' idee 
 that you was making clear money ; but that I 
 don't expect to do as long as there's no man 
 about the place. " 
 
 " Why don't you get one to take charge of 
 your business, Mrs. Pryor ? " 
 
 " I want one the worst way to take care of me, 
 as well as the farm," said Mrs. Pryor, with the 
 funniest little cackling laugh. 
 
 "I should think there would be nothing easier," 
 said Captain Lemuir with a smile and bow ; " a 
 captivating widow with a snug farm." 
 
 " It ain't so easy as you think ; them that wants 
 me I wouldn't have, and I'm just aggravated out 
 of my life by the darkeys. You can't do enough 
 for 'em, an' you never gets done doin' for 'em. 
 I aint seen no peace with them sence Mr. Pryor 
 died, and then my children frets me. There's 
 Emma, fat little minx ! You'd be surprised, Miss 
 Vivia, at the way she dances. She will set up all 
 night and dance at one of these frolics, surprise 
 parties you know, an' she's got more beaux dan- 
 gling after her, sech as they is, than any girl in the 
 
76 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 country. Elma Fleetwood is a great beauty, but 
 she don't hold a candle to Emma for beaux." 
 
 " O, ma ! " said Emma, " do hush ; how you do 
 run on ! I don't know what Miss Vivia will think 
 of you talking so, and she a stranger." 
 
 " Oh ! well now, Emma, she ain't no stranger, 
 she's Cappen Lemuir's sister, and you ain't goin' 
 to take her back this morning, Cappen. You've 
 just got to let her stay a week. Why, this here's 
 the lonesomest country on top-side of creation. 
 Miss Vivia. It's a rale favor to stay with a body. 
 Now don't begin to make no excuses. I'll send 
 little Tom back with you, Cappen, and your wife 
 can send your sister's things in a basket by him. 
 I want you to go to Mizpah with me Sunday, 
 Miss Vivia, and hear our presiding elder. He's a 
 stunner ! La ! I never gets tired of hearing him 
 preach. Now say you'll stay, won't you ? " 
 
 Vivia, with considerable reluctance, agreed, per- 
 ceiving from her brother's countenance that he 
 wished her to ; upon which Captain Lemuir rose 
 to go, but was stopped by Mrs. Pryor's youngest 
 child, a round, rosy little thing, who answered to 
 the abbreviation of " Farm," for Parmella, who 
 took his hand. 
 
 " She don't look like havin' no congestive 
 chills, does she, Cappen ? but she does ; she had 
 the hardest sort of chill last week, and Dr. Liv- 
 ingstone says I must not let it run on for fear 
 they'll turn to congestive. Would you believe 
 )tj Cappen, he says this place is sickly ? But Ja ! 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 77 
 
 that's too ridiculous ! Why, I know it ain't. 
 About two miles from here, now, at old Isaac 
 Lowe's place, it is sickly, no doubt about it. You 
 heard that Sam Skimmer died in that place, Sun- 
 day, Cappen ? No ? Well he did, and died with 
 one of them very congestive chills. He was took 
 with a common chill, his wife told me, and he 
 never did get warm no more. When I got there, 
 (I went as soon as they sent for the turpen- 
 tine, an' told me he wus took bad), I saw he was 
 gone up. They jest poured the dead shot whisky 
 down him. The doctor said if he could get up a 
 reaction he might save him, but he didn't get up 
 no reaction, and so the poor creature died ; and died 
 dead drunk, shore as I'm a livin' woman. I don't 
 hold with no sich." 
 
 " Gimme de table-cloth, missus," said Jane, 
 putting her head out of the door opening on the 
 piazza where the group were standing, Captain 
 Lemuir, hat in hand, ready to take his leave, only 
 waiting for a break in Mrs. Pryor's flow of words. 
 Taking advantage of this diversion he made his 
 adieux and bowed himself out, while Mrs. Pryor, 
 on hospitable thoughts intent, went out to assist 
 her servant in setting the table. 
 
 In the interval Emma did her best to entertain 
 Vivia ; but though she chattered awa'y at an 
 amazing rate, her volubility lacked the shrewd 
 common-sense which gave to her mother's some- 
 thing of a piquant interest. 
 
 After fi cjinosr of smothered chicken, poached 
 
78 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 sggs, light biscuits and canned peaches, Mrs. 
 Pryor proposed that they drive over to the new 
 mills at Smith's cross-roads, and stop at the 
 store. 
 
 This was quite a neighborhood resort, a place 
 for picnics in summer and fish-fries in spring. 
 Here the people got their corn ground, bills of 
 lumber sawed, and recently the attraction of a 
 real country store had been added. 
 
 The mill was built at the foot of a hill on the 
 very edge of a pond, and here corn was ground, 
 lumber sawed and cotton packed. 
 
 There were several men and boys lounging 
 about the mill, besides the proprietor and his 
 help, and one of them presently sauntered up to 
 Mrs. Pryor. He was a tall, angular, dirty-looking 
 
 an with a halt in his gait, wore a huge, jet-black, 
 excessively coarse beard, had a nose low at the 
 base, swelling largely at the nostril, and a wide, 
 ugly mouth. 
 
 He conducted them about the mill, showed 
 them the " curiosities," and then escorted them to 
 the store where Mrs. Pryor made some purchases. 
 Observing that he had lost a finger, Vivia asked 
 him if he had been in the war. 
 
 " Lord bless you, mum, that I was. I was in 
 the Virginian army till our cappen, George Cuth- 
 bert, an' fifty of the men outen our comp'ny wus 
 killed, an' I was takened prisoner an' sent to Pint 
 Lookout, whar I wus kept six mont's. I played 
 the best dodge on them Yankees, Mis Pryor, ever 
 
 c 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. ^ 79 
 
 you seed. They was going to exchange, you 
 know, and the corporal what called the roll he 
 tuck a likin' to me. Says he, ' Esau,' says he, 
 ' you teck a crutch an hmp up to the inspectin' 
 ossifer an' tell him as how you has got the rheu- 
 matiz a-lyin' on this hyar wet groun'.' Well, sir. 
 Mis Pryor, I come that dodge slick as a eel ; an' 
 when that inspectin' ossifer sees me, says he, ' This 
 hyar man won't be no 'count to the rebs noway, 
 'scharge him.' So they put me on board the boat 
 what was goin' to Richmond, the rebs' boat, 'cause 
 them Yankees wus so scared of the tarpeeters 
 (torpedoes), what us rebs had put on the river. I 
 throwed my crutch away 'fore I got to Richmond. 
 Thar I tuck a anverlance and rid to the place 
 whar I had to git my papers fixed. I tell you. 
 Mis Pryor, I has seed sights in my time ! I has 
 seed the dead piled up higher'n this mill at 
 Chancellorsville ! " 
 
 " La ! now, Mr. Esau," said Mrs. Pryor, with 
 her good-natured little cackle, " you make Miss 
 Vivia open her eyes." 
 
 " Oh ! that's nothing ; I seed ten thousand 
 beeves killed in one day for the army in Vir- 
 ginia." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Esau, where did you come from?" 
 
 " Well, Mis Pryor, I cum from Tennessee, whar 
 I wus borned in a liberty-stable. I growed up at 
 old Saul's tavern, and used to drive the red stage; 
 on the Buzzard's-Roost road. I alles had a great 
 likin' for hosses, 'cause I wus born in a liberty- 
 
So BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 stable, I reckin. I jined the cirkis onct an* tuck 
 care o' their hosses : but it wusn't near the fun it 
 wus cracked up to be. When we wus crossing 
 the Cumberland the old elephant he broke loose, 
 an' lifted Long Ike (what kep him) on the end of 
 his snout an' throwed him so fur till he knocked 
 his senses clean outen him." 
 
 " La ! Mr. Esau," ejaculated Mrs. Pryor, " did 
 they ever get the elephant back ? " 
 
 " Well, they sont out a passel of sha'pshooters 
 what put five loads of buckshot in him, and killed 
 him so dead he couldn't kick." 
 
 " Well, I never ! " again ejaculated Mrs. Pryor, 
 " an' how long did you stay with the circus, Mr. 
 Esau ? " 
 
 " 'Bout five mont's, then I hired to the liberty- 
 stable man. Lor' 'mighty ! what times we uster 
 have when 'lections wus gwine on. The can'idates 
 they would try to see which could hire the most 
 hacks, and they would let the men what was gwine 
 to vote for 'em ride for nothin', and they'd stand 
 treat all the time. Them wus days shore's you 
 born. Out hyar in this all-fired country, a man 
 don't get near as much for a vote as in Ten- 
 nessee." 
 
 " Well, good-evenin', Mr. Esau. It's time for 
 us to be a-goin' towards home. Miss Vivia." 
 
 " Wait a minute Mis Pryor, an' I'll bring up 
 your horse an' buggy." 
 
 This done and the two seated in the vehicle, 
 Mr. Esau lifted his hat and said : 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 8 1 
 
 " I'm comin' over one day next week, Mis 
 Pryor; look out fur me." 
 
 " It's so lonesome in these parts," said Mrs. 
 Pryor, in an undertone to Vivia, as they drove off, 
 " that it makes one glad to see even such a fellow 
 as old Esau. But just see how late it is ! Why, 
 I had no idea I wus stayin' so long. G'long, old 
 Gray. We'll have to trot her every step ef we 
 make it before it's plum dark." 
 
82 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MIZPAH. 
 
 Sunday at Mrs. Pryor's found everybody sleep- 
 ing later than usual, breakfast hurried up in 
 response to the mistress' doleful scolding, and a 
 very poor one it proved, the egg-bread burned 
 outside and raw in the middle, biscuits doughy, 
 ham and eggs fried overdone, and Emma aggra- 
 vatingly slow in making her appearance. 
 
 At last Mrs. Pryor set out with Vivia and little 
 Parm in the rockaway, leaving Emma to follow 
 on horseback with Mose Planner, a half-witted, 
 harmless son of one of the tenants, for her sole 
 attendant. 
 
 When they arrived at Mizpah, a small, wooden 
 church without ceiling or plastering, situated in a 
 grove, now leafless, they found some half-dozen 
 vehicles and twice as many horses, a number of 
 which indicated by the side-saddles that they had 
 been ridden by ladies. 
 
 In front of the door, seated on logs, were a 
 number of men and boys, some whittling, some 
 talking in subdued tones, and all chewing to- 
 bacco. 
 
^EHOLblNG AS IN A GlASS. 83 
 
 There were a few graves near the church, pro- 
 tected by rail-pens, and near one of them, on a 
 log, sat a group of women, whom Mrs. Pryor, 
 conducting Vivia and Farm, at once joined. 
 Everybody had a smile, a hand-grasp and kindly 
 word for friendly Mrs. Pryor. She introduced 
 Vivia — " She's Captain Lemuir's sister," as if that 
 were recommendation enough. 
 
 Presently Vivia saw Teddy Norwood drive up 
 with Noisette Miln. She looked very happy, and 
 her simple, elegant suit of gray wool brought out 
 the beauty of her Titianesque hair and warm 
 brown eyes. 
 
 She came up to Vivia, and greeting her with 
 a warmth as of real liking, they went into the 
 church and sat together. They could hear Mrs. 
 Pryor and the friends she had met, chatting 
 loudly about the health of the neighborhood. 
 
 " You know, Mrs. Pryor," said Mrs. Hardwyn, 
 " Parson Jacobs has had another of them attacks, 
 and now Dr. Livingstone says that both lungs is 
 affected and there ain't no chance for him to get 
 well, though if he can keep alive till spring he 
 may live another year. I was up all Friday night 
 with Betsy Ann Frazer's baby. It had spasms. 
 I believe that child's got the rickets. It can't 
 live, but Betsy Ann jest grieves over it jest like 
 it wus the finest one she had. Look ! there's 
 Parson Lyie." 
 
 Through the window Vivia and Noisette saw a 
 short, stout man dismount from a big, raw-boned 
 
§4 BnHOLbtNG AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 horse, on which was a saddle and saddle-bags. 
 They could hear the deep, rich tones of his voice 
 as he shook hands all around, inquiring kindly 
 after the families of each. This little ceremony 
 over he came in with a firm, springy step, 
 mounted the pulpit, knelt down and prayed, 
 rose and gave out a hymn, the groups outside 
 all having followed when he entered the church. 
 
 He led the singing, lining the verses two at a 
 time, made a fervent prayer and preached a for- 
 cible sermon, bristling with original thoughts and 
 phrases. At the close he invited the congrega- 
 tion to go to the creek near by and witness a 
 baptism. It was rather a cold day, but the water 
 was ncJt frozen, and the candidate went through 
 the ordeal with perfect composure, receiving the 
 right hand of fellowship from the members of the 
 church, who received her at the water's brink as 
 she came up. 
 
 When Mrs. Pryor got into her vehicle, she re- 
 marked to Vivia that she had " promised Mrs. 
 Hardwyn that they would all go and dine with 
 her, as she lived so much nearer the church than 
 they." On their way Mrs. Pryor freely discussed 
 preacher, sermon and congregation. After a while 
 Noisette's turn came. 
 
 " She's a sweet girl," said Mrs. Pryor, " the pick 
 of that flock, if her hair is red. Elma Fleetwood 
 is stuck up past all telling, Celia's most too lazy 
 to breathe, and Pauline is a natural-born fun- 
 maker; but Noisette is good and smart, and I'll 
 
iBEHOLblNG As IN A dLA^S. 85 
 
 tell you a secret, Miss Vivia — the way she loves 
 Teddy Norwood is enough to raise your hair with 
 astonishment. I've seen it for years, ever sence 
 they were boy and girl, in fact ; but old General 
 Miln's powerfully opposed to it. I don't know 
 how he come to let Ted drive her to church to- 
 day, but I reckin he thinks he can trust Zetta. 
 Ted gets out of heart 'bout Zetta every once in 
 awhile an' comes to see my Emma. Emma's 
 such a little flirt she will ' take on ' with him, but 
 I don't think much of Ted, he's too impudent 
 and hot-tempered. The girl that marries him 
 will do a pretty poor business ; besides, he is poor 
 as a church-mouse. They say the senator's in 
 love with Pauline. He was that man what come 
 in so late — a one-eyed man and terrible tall. He's 
 been married twict, got money both times, and 
 now he's looking out for A-number-one the third 
 time. I hope Pauline will give him the mitten." 
 
 " Leora Hardwyn's comin' to-day for Emma to 
 help her sew," remarked Mrs. Pryor at breakfast 
 the following Tuesday. " Now, Mose, what do you 
 want ? " She turned, holding her coffee cup in one 
 hand, to confront the person of a huge, overgrown 
 boy, who stood with his feet wide apart in the 
 doorway. He wore heavy boots, red with clay, 
 drawn over his pantaloons, a tight-fitting jacket 
 and a broad-brimmed hat. His features were 
 coarse and large, his skin yellow, his mouth 
 stained with tobacco. His light eye had an 
 
86 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 uncertain, wandering look, and there were con- 
 stant twitchings of the mouth. 
 
 " Won't you have some breakfast ? " continued 
 Mrs. Pryor, kindly. 
 
 " No, I don't want no more; I done et." 
 
 " Who cut your hair, Mose ? " 
 
 " Mammy ; she like to cut my head off." 
 
 " O no, Mose, she wouldn't do that. How are 
 you gettin' on pickin' cotton ? 'most out ? " 
 
 " We is jest a-goin' it. Mis Pryor. I can pick 
 faster'n anybody ; dog my buttons ef I can't pick 
 mighty right ! " 
 
 Mrs. Pryor laughed. 
 
 " Have some of these 'lasses cakes, Mose ? 
 You know you love 'lasses cakes." 
 
 " Well, I does," said he, taking a handful and 
 crunching them ravenously. " Mammy wants 
 you to sen' her some bakin." 
 
 Mrs. Pryor got up and went with Mose to the 
 smoke-house, where she weighed and delivered 
 the bacon. On her return she told Vivia the his- 
 tory of the unfortunate boy. 
 
 His father had been a respectable man and was 
 a brave soldier in the war. When he came home 
 he found his wife had gone to live with another 
 man, pretending to think him dead. He had a 
 quarrel with this person, who ended the fray by 
 drawing his knife and stabbing poor Planner. 
 Mose (a child then) witnessed the whole affair 
 and never had a sound mind afterwards. 
 
 " When he takes a fit he looks like he'll tear 
 
bEHOLDING AS W A GLASS. 87 
 
 hisself to pieces ; but he's an accommodatin', 
 hard-workin' creeter, poor soul, when he comes to 
 hisself. He is generally taken with a chill and 
 don't know nothin' for days nor eat a mouthful, 
 and has to be watched when he comes to for fear 
 he'll kill hisself or somebody. He's one of the 
 best hands on the place and mighty good to keep 
 me in firewood." 
 
 The family having assembled in the sitting- 
 room after breakfast, Mrs. Pryor, in her restless 
 way, peered through the window and presently 
 exclaimed ! 
 
 " Laws a massy ! It never rains but it pours. 
 Yonder comes old Isaac Lowe an' his wife an' Mary 
 Frances down one road, and Leora Hardwyn on 
 her pony by the other, and the house not cleaned 
 up yet. O, Jane ! for la's sake come and sweep 
 this floor. Vivia, did you ever see such good- 
 for-nothing folks as mine ? Well, 'tain't no use 
 worryin' about it," and she hastened to meet her 
 guests, glad to see them, no matter what incon- 
 venience they might put her to, for she was one 
 of those sociable souls to whom company is 
 always welcome. 
 
 Leora arrived first, and had dismounted and gone 
 into the house with Vivia to lay off her things, 
 leaving Mrs. Pryor and Emma to greet the Lowe 
 family. Mary Frances, a sallow, bloodless-look- 
 ing girl, suggesting a corpse, glided about in a 
 light blue dress with purple trimmings. Uncle 
 Isaac Lowe was, as Mrs. Pryor said, "as badly put 
 
88 behoLdiMg As Of A dtASS. 
 
 together as they ever made 'em ; " knock-kneed, 
 parrot-toed and club-footed. He was nicely 
 dressed in a homespun, home-made suit of neat 
 gray jeans, but walked as if his limbs turned on 
 rusty hinges. He never seemed to look at any- 
 body except his wife, and consulted her face as if 
 it were a clock. In making a remark, which he 
 always uttered in slow and solemn tones, he invari- 
 ably looked at his wife and licked out his tongue, 
 a habit of such long practice that some bad boys 
 had nicknamed him " Old Lickout." 
 
 Mrs. Lowe was a perfect pattern of a shrew — 
 thin, pale lips, furtive eyes, and a general air of 
 scrimpness and primness. Yet Aunt Tabby Lowe 
 was not without her good qualities, though she 
 was, as Mrs. Pryor said, " most ondoubtedly the 
 man of the house." 
 
 Leora came very near being a beauty, yet she 
 was almost as bloodless as Mary Frances, only it 
 was the bloodlessness of alabaster. Her brow, 
 nose and chin were quite Elizabethan. There 
 was an exquisite daintiness in her dress of navy 
 blue albatross, and her linen collar and cuffs and 
 ruffled apron were snowy white. 
 
 " Sister Pryor," said old Isaac Lowe, glancing 
 sideways at his Tabby, " I thought I'd bring Mis 
 Lowe an' Mary Frances an' let them spen' the 
 day while I goes on to Cheowah-town to sell these 
 aigs an' butter an' dried fruit. I've got a passel 
 o' hides in the back o' the spring wagin." 
 
 " Uncle Isaac," said Mrs. Pryor, as if asking a 
 
BUtiOLDING A& IM A GLASS. 89 
 
 favor, " I wish you'd let me have four dozen of 
 your aigs ? I'll pay you cash." 
 
 He consulted Tabby by a look, and said, — 
 
 " Well", yes, I s'pose I could let you have that 
 many." 
 
 " Emma ! Mrs. Pryor called, " look in the 
 top drawer and get my pocket-book, and send 
 Jane with it and a basket to put them eggs in." 
 
 " I thought I'd tell you,Sister Pryor," said Mrs. 
 Lowe in the complaining tone of voice habitual 
 to her, " we've got a calf ten mont's' old we 
 'lowed to kill next week, an' if you knowed what 
 the market-price of veal is I could engage to let 
 you have a quarter for the cash." 
 
 " O well, that's easy found out," said Mrs. 
 Pryor ; " Uncle Isaac, you inquire at Cheowah- 
 town to-day and let me know." 
 
 " These aigs," said the old man, as he carefully 
 counted them into his wife's hands, who in turn 
 counted them into Mrs. Pryor's, " is the finest 
 and fattest aigs you ever seed ; our yellow 
 Topknots laid 'em an' they is as fat as butter." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Lowe, " an' that there calf of 
 our'n, Sonnie we calls him (his mammy died d'rectly 
 after he come, an' I raised him by hand), he's 
 monstrous fat and fine." 
 
 "La sakes! Aunt Tabby, I don't see how 
 you'll have the heart to kill him ; Parm's got a 
 pig an' a gobbler that's just took these premises, 
 but the creeters is so knowin' an' gentle I wouldn't 
 have 'em killed for nothin'. There's gobbler 
 
90 
 
 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 Bob now ; he's destroyed more little chicks 
 than he's worth, but I couldn't think of killin' 
 him. It would choke me dead to know I had 
 a piece of him in my mouth. But come, let's go 
 in. You can't go in. Uncle Isaac ? " 
 
 " No, Sister Pryor," gathering up the reins and 
 screwing his mouth into a clucking pucker, " I'll 
 be goin' on. But I'll be back to late dinner." 
 
 " Yes, I'll save something hot for you if din- 
 ner's ready before you get back. Come in, Aunt 
 Tabby." 
 
 Mary Frances had gone into the house with 
 Emma some little time before, and as Mrs. Pryor 
 and her guest now entered the piazza, Mrs. Lowe 
 said : 
 
 " I'll take a dip. Sister Pryor, if you ain't no 
 objection," drawing her snuff-box from her 
 pocket. 
 
 " None in the world, Aunt Tabby ; have some of 
 mine ; the best Maccaboy, just got in from Caro- 
 lina." 
 
 " Thankey," said Mrs. Lowe. " Speaking of 
 turkeys, I've had mighty bad luck ; ain't got but 
 sixty outen seventy-five hatched out an' only four 
 hundred chickens raised this year, an' I set out 
 last spring to raise eight hundred. A mighty un- 
 lucky year ! " saying which she rubbed her mouth 
 with some of Mrs. Pryor's fine Maccaboy. " Now 
 Sister Pryor, s'posen we look into the basket." 
 
 Mrs. Pryor, nothing loth, raised the lid and 
 took from thence two dress-patterns. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 91 
 
 " That brown woost is fur me," said Mrs. 
 Lowe, " an' I 'lowed the green would make up 
 beautiful fur Mary Frances. I want Emma to 
 cut 'em out an' we'll baste, an' amongst all you 
 uns you can get 'em sewed on your machine. I 
 ain't never bought one yet, an' dresses looks so 
 much better sewed on the machine. You has 
 sich a turn fur cuttin' an' iittin', Emma, I 'lowed 
 nothin' would suit you better." 
 
 Vivia could see that both Mrs. Pryor and Emma 
 were slightly crestfallen. They had promised on 
 Sunday, when they dined at Mrs.Hardwyn's, to 
 help Leora with some very particular work to-day, 
 but with genuine courtesy their own preferences 
 were put aside, Leora made to understand that 
 she would be helped later, and, with cheerful 
 neighborliness, Mrs. Pryor had Emma bring out 
 her newest dresses for the visitor's delectation, 
 and describe the latest style of basque, sleeve, and 
 skirt, carrying her complacency to the extent of 
 letting Mary Frances attempt to try them on ; in 
 which, however, she failed, being in all points long 
 where Emma was short, and lean where she was 
 fat. 
 
 Leora, Vivia, and Emma went vigorously to 
 work, cutting, basting and chatting cheerfully as 
 girls will, Emma talking beaux, Leora books, and 
 Vivia sympathetically listening and commenting 
 in a way that gave rise to much laughter. Mrs. 
 Pryor and Aunt Tabby retired to the stove-room, 
 where Jane was beating up some of the newly- 
 
93 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 purchased " aigs " for a queen's cake, and where 
 they could lend a helping hand, at the same time 
 dipping snuff out of the same box and gossiping 
 freely, during which confidence-inspiring process 
 Mrs. Lowe made the impressive disclosure, under 
 pledge of strictest secrecy, that " Mary Frances 
 was a-goin' to git married to Tim Boskitt, an' the 
 dress to be made was weddin' fixin's." 
 
 There was nothing on earth Mrs. Pryor relished 
 as she did news, especially news with a flavor of 
 secrecy ; and so delighted was she that she gave 
 Mrs. Lowe two boxes of her Royal Baking Pow- 
 der, worth fifty cents each. Such was the state 
 of gleefulness into which she was thrown, that 
 when she returned to the sitting-room, she was in- 
 clined to play pranks ; and after urging Vivia " to 
 take a dip of this good old Maccaboy," she stepped 
 up behind her and opened a box so near that she 
 threw her into a violent fit of sneezing. She 
 seemed full of animation, and delightedly went to 
 show Leora some very fine hogs she had fatten- 
 ing for Christmas. 
 
 Once by themselves, Leora, with the loveliest 
 pink color creeping over her pale complexion, and 
 pledging her friend to inviolable silence, confessed 
 her engagement to Dr. Blackwell, the richest 
 planter on the river. Mrs. Pryor inwardly re- 
 called the doctor's gray head and six children, 
 and looking at the slim, pale girl, thought that 
 Dr. Blackwell would have been a far more suit- 
 able husband for herself ; but she was fervent in 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 93 
 
 her congratulations, and yearned for particulars, 
 which Leora blushingly gave. 
 
 " Mamma thinks it would be best to have the 
 ceremony right private, just a few friends. Of 
 course we must have you and Emma, but we shall 
 have no party ; and after our wedding breakfast 
 we shall start at once for New Orleans. I shall be 
 married in my travelling dress, and I thought, Mrs. 
 Pryor, if you and Emma could help me with my 
 underclothing a little ? Dr. Blackwell is so im- 
 patient." 
 
 " Why, of course, child ; help you, that we will. 
 You shall stay a week and we will make the whole 
 lot for you," said the impulsive soul, not thinking 
 of her own huge basket of sewing which ought to 
 be finished before Christmas. 
 
 When Mr. Lowe got back from Cheowah-town 
 that evening, he sat down to some of his own 
 " fat aigs " (sold at such high price to his hostess 
 that morning), freshly poached, flanked by fried 
 ham, hot biscuits and steaming coffee. 
 
 " How's cotton. Uncle Isaac ? " asked she, as she 
 waited on him. He glanced at his wife, who had 
 also come into the room to have an oversight of 
 him, took a gulp of coffee from his saucer noisily, 
 not looking at his questioner, his whole attention 
 given to the partner of his bosom, and replied in 
 solemn tones : 
 
 " Cotton's fell." 
 
 " Well, now, you don't say so ? I'm just goin' 
 to haul in my horns an' not be advancin' to my 
 
94 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 renters so liberal. How's dry goods, Uncle 
 Isaac ? " 
 
 He put a large piece of ham and biscuit in his 
 mouth, another swallow of coffee and said : 
 
 " Goods is riz." 
 
 " An' what's the news in town ? — much a-doin', 
 merchants lively ? " 
 
 He licked out his tongue, consulting his Tabby 
 with oblique glances, and avouched : 
 
 " Times is dull." 
 
 Nothing less sententious did Mrs. Pryor, with 
 all her questioning, get from him, and he never 
 gave her a single piece of his very concentrated 
 bits of information without first consulting his 
 circumspect wife. Even when the hostess ques- 
 tioned him as to the prospects of wheat and oats, 
 the eye-wise consultation was made, ere his pro- 
 fundity vented itself in, — 
 
 " 'Tain't much to brag on." 
 
 The singular pair left as soon as Mr. Lowe was 
 through his late dinner, and Leora departed also, 
 promising to return the next day. 
 
 No sooner had they all departed than Mrs. 
 Pryor, in whose bosom a little geyser was boil- 
 ing in its agony to effervesce, gave vent to her 
 feelings with such relief as Bald Mountain experi- 
 ences when emitting volcanic thunderings. She 
 opened her lips and immediately the secrets were 
 divulged. 
 
 " O, girls, ain't it too funny ! Mary Frances is 
 goin' to git married ; that dead-and-alive creeter, 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 95 
 
 the ordinaryest girl in the neighborhood, an' to Tim 
 Boskitt, the new Christian preacher ! Gracious 
 sakes! what could he see in her? She's got no 
 more sense than a dead whippoorwill ; ugly, sallow, 
 skinny creeter, that can't hardly read nor write. 
 Well, everybody to his taste. Leora's goin' in 
 for riches. I know she can't love Dr. Blackwell, 
 old enough to be her grand-daddie, but it suits 
 very well. Leora ain't one of the lovin' kind. 
 She's got no more feelin' than a panther. High- 
 minded, proud, you bet ! She told me she never 
 set foot in one of their renters' houses. I knew 
 she would marry Dr. Blackwell as soon as I heard 
 he was goin' to see her. He's the only offer she's 
 ever had. She's got a better skin than you has, 
 Emma, but she never had near the beaux." 
 
 " I wouldn't change skins with her," laughed 
 Emma, blushing brightly, " and I wouldn't stand 
 in her shoes when she marries old Dr. Blackwell. 
 O me ! what a case Aunt Tabby is ! " 
 
 " A perfect scrouger," laughed Mrs. Pryor. " I 
 declare, Miss Vivia, she made old Isaac Lowe 
 swap his two children by his first wife to their 
 grand-dad fur a couple of niggers ; but la ! what 
 a scratchin' old hen she is — money makin'. Gra- 
 cious sakes alive ! She makes it offen chickens, 
 eggs, sorghum, honey, cider, vinegar, potatoes, 
 brandy, butter, fruit, dried apples, onions and 
 spun thread, anything and everything, and hoards 
 up every cent in old stockings. I'd like you to 
 go over there ; I'll carry you some tijne with me. 
 
g6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 It's sech a clean, thrifty, old-fashioned looking 
 place. As fur work, Aunt Tabby don't turn back 
 from nothin'. I've knowed her to help old Isaac 
 to fix a cow-shed an' it a-sleetin'. They never 
 quarrels ; he dassent." 
 
 A little later, just before Jane announced sup- 
 per, came ponderous footsteps on the piazza, and 
 in walked Mr. Esau, " all spruced up," as Mrs. 
 Pryor expressed it. 
 
 He was overflowing with neighborhood news, 
 and gossip, and tales of his own experiences that 
 kept the whole circle in gales of laughter. After 
 supper Mrs. Pryor sent upstairs for nuts and 
 apples to crack and roast, and a jug of cider was 
 brought in, to which Mr. Esau did ample justice. 
 
 "I 'clar' to gosh. Mis Pryor," said he, "this is 
 jolly ! I wouldn't a-missed comin' here ; two or 
 three times lately I wus layin' off to come. I got 
 salivated tryin' to break up chills ; my mouth is 
 sore yet." He opened it wide, putting his fingers 
 on his jaw gums. 
 
 Vivia and Emma laughed, but Mrs. Pryor was 
 concerned. 
 
 " Let me put some borax water on it, Mr. Esau ; 
 you ought to sponge it with slippery elm and 
 borax-water. Go, Emma, and bring me a rag and 
 some borax-water." 
 
 These at hand Mrs. Pryor examined the ugly 
 mouth, and applied the healing lotion. 
 
 " I will do whatsoever you advises. Mis Pryor. 
 I've made up my mind to sober down and git 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 97 
 
 married, an' I've done picked you out, Mis 
 Pryor, as the most suitablest woman I know to 
 jog along in harness with me. A long-winded 
 nag, and powerful jolly ! Besides, you've got the 
 farm already for me to obershee. You wants a 
 obersheer, an' I wants a wife. I'll teck care of 
 your farm ef you'll teck me ? What do you say, 
 teck me or not ? " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Esau ! what on earth do you mean 
 talkin' so ? I believe you are drunk." 
 
 " No, I ain't ; I'm sober as you is ! S'y yes, Mis 
 Pryor. I'll answer fur it, I'll suit you to a dot ; 
 and I'm gettin' more in love with you every 
 minute." 
 
 " I declare, Mr. Esau, you make me ashamed. 
 I wouldn't have you if you was the last man on 
 this earth. You surely ain't got no respect for 
 me, nor yourself, to be talkin' such foolishness 
 before these children." 
 
 The eliminated product of the livery-stable be- 
 ginning to speak again, Mrs. Pryor said : 
 
 " I think, Mr. Esau, you'd better go home. It 
 just makes me madder'n a hornet to be insulted 
 so. I wish you'd leave." 
 
 Whereupon Mr. Esau put on his hat and went 
 out. 
 7 
 
gS BEHOLDING AS JN A GLASS, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " ViviA, Noisette and Elma are coming here to 
 dine on Friday. I wish you would see to getting 
 things in order and make some cake and custard. 
 I am the poorest hand at cake in the world. 
 Your brother brought home some cranberries 
 yesterday, so you might as well make some tarts. 
 And I wish to gracious you could get up a blanc- 
 mange ! Have you any idea how to do it ? " 
 
 " I never made one in my life, but if you have 
 a cook-book with a receipt in it for blanc-mange, I 
 can try." 
 
 Her work being thus mapped out for her, Vivia 
 went at it with such energy that on the morning 
 of the expected visit, the house was in perfect 
 order, and a most tempting array of dainties on 
 the closet shelves. 
 
 Great was her disappointment when the car- 
 riage rolled up and only Elma emerged. She wore 
 a plum-colored satin dress, velvet hat, plumes, 
 gloves and boots to match. Elegant furs were 
 drawn about her perfect shoulders, her cheeks 
 aflame with vivid color, and, with her sparkling 
 eyes she was indeed a radiant vision. 
 
BEHOLDtNC AS IN A GLASS. 99 
 
 Hardly had she disengaged herself from Mrs. 
 Lemuir's embrace before she broke out breath- 
 lessly ! 
 
 " Oh ! Cousin Celestia, such news, such awful 
 news ! " 
 
 "No! What?" gasped Mrs. Lemuir. "Any- 
 body dead? How is Aunt Henrietta?" 
 
 " Mamma is well, but Pauline ! " 
 
 " What about Pauline ? Is she sick ? " 
 
 " No, far worse ; she is married ! " 
 
 " Heavens ! You don't say so ? To whom ? " 
 
 " Oh ! It's the most mortifying thing ! Papa is 
 awfully cut up and mamma so distressed ! An 
 elopement in our family was never heard of be- 
 fore." 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! You don't mean to say 
 she has run away ? " 
 
 " Of course she has, and a horrid mesalliance she 
 has made." 
 
 " Tell me all about it ! What's the man's 
 name ? How did she get off ? O my goodness ! 
 It's just awful ! " 
 
 " Well, give me time, Cousin Celestia. It is so 
 tackeyish to be in such a hurry. Pauline is the 
 closest girl ; you never know what is in her mind, 
 and she is such a laugher she puts you off your 
 guard. You would never think she had secrets. 
 Oh ! I told mamma last week that Pauline had low 
 ideas, and she ought to forbid her making so free 
 with common people. Mamma is sorry now that 
 she did not take my advice." 
 
loo BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 " In the name of goodness, El, whom did she 
 marry ? " 
 
 " That's what I am going to tell you, if you 
 will just give me time. Paula is very thick, you 
 know, with that fat fright, Emma Pryor. Now I 
 can't abide her. Why, her laces are too cheap 
 for anything ! Cousin Celestia, have you ever no- 
 ticed the laces she wears ? " 
 
 " O yes, often," said Mrs. Lemuir, with an im- 
 patient inflection in her tones. " How anybody 
 can set up to be anybody in those laces passes 
 my comprehension. She is common as dirt ; 
 but go on. El." 
 
 " Just what I think," said Elma. " Well, yes- 
 terday afternoon that Dutch Jew, Recamier, a 
 miserable, impecunious wretch, a kind of crazy 
 poet they say, called to take Pauline to ride. He 
 has met her at several parties, you know, since 
 the infair, and no doubt he persuaded her to this 
 at the croquet party at these same tackey Pryors' 
 where we were so foolish as to go last week. 
 Mamma didn't like the idea, but Pauline is so 
 headstrong she would go." 
 
 " Where were they married ? " 
 
 " Right at Mrs. Pryor's house. And what do 
 you think ? She was married by a magistrate and 
 in a brown worsted dress." 
 
 " Great Jerusalem ! It can't be possible, El ! " 
 
 " It's certainly so," pursued Elma, more calmly ; 
 I know she looked ugly, for she had the tooth- 
 ache ; and besides she had no snow-white along. 
 
BEHOLDING AS W A CLASS. loi 
 
 It takes a great deal of snow-white to make 
 Pauline passable." 
 
 " What does Uncle Joshua say ? " earnestly in- 
 quired Mrs. Lemuir. 
 
 " Say ? Why, that he intends to horsewhip 
 Recamier on sight, and that Pauline shall never 
 have a cent of his property. He didn't get home 
 last night till twelve, and mamma was so uneasy. 
 She had sent Uncle Jerry and Nat to make in- 
 quiries, but they never even got on the track. 
 This morning that white fellow Mrs. Pryor keeps 
 brought a letter from Pauline to papa, in which 
 she told him of her marriage and asked his for- 
 giveness, and begged him to send her clothes. 
 Papa was in such a fury that he would not do it, 
 but ordered the white fellow to go back and tell 
 her he sent her nothing but his curse. Papa says 
 she will soon find out that she is a fit subject for 
 the lunatic asylum. He declares that any girl 
 who will marry a poor man is a stark simpleton." 
 
 " O, she will repent," said Mrs. Lemuir. " But 
 what could have made her act so foolish?" 
 
 " I reckon it was the gump's poetry. When 
 we were at St. Ives last summer there was a young 
 man who used to sit in the gallery every Sunday, 
 and he wrote a lovely piece to the ' Beauty with 
 the Bonny Black Eyes.' That was me; but 
 pshaw ! I made ej^es at him, but I would not 
 have thought of speaking to him. Why, he was 
 nothing but a reporter for the St. Ives ' Index ' 
 and poor as Job's turkey." 
 
I02 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 " Where's Paula now ? " 
 
 "Boarding at the Pryors'. Just think of it ! I 
 hear they set a very poor table. Zetta is just 
 crying her eyes out, so I had to come alone, for 
 Celia went to town Tuesday. I knew you'd want 
 to hear the news." 
 
 The following week came General Miln's car- 
 riage and a note from Noisette, asking Vivia to 
 come to her as she was in great trouble. 
 
 The latter instantly made preparations, and in 
 the course of a few hours found herself by the 
 side of her friend. Sleepless nights and distress- 
 ful days had made quite a change in Zetta. She 
 looked like one deeply bereaved, for her warm 
 heart doted on her only own sister; she feared 
 they were parted forever. She led Vivia to her 
 own special sanctum, and there they communed 
 over Zetta's troubles. 
 
 " Papa says I'm not to see Paula ever again, 
 Vivia. It's the same as if she were dead ! " 
 
 " O no, darling. He don't mean it. He will 
 relent by and by. Try to hope so, dear. Why 
 should you break your heart over what may be 
 only temporary ? " 
 
 " But all my trouble is not about my sister, 
 Vivia. Papa is so angry at the way Pauline has 
 deceived him, that now he says he cannot trust me 
 either, unless I will bind myself not to speak to 
 Teddie Norwood again. 
 
 " Isn't it hard to impose such a condition on 
 me, when we two have been like brother and sister 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 103 
 
 all our lives ? Ted's mother was my own mother's 
 first cousin, and always her most intimate and 
 beloved companion. Ted was born in our house, 
 and he and his mother lived with us till she 
 died. He was born after his father's death, and 
 was like our own little brother till his guardian 
 took him away. He treated him cruelly, made 
 him work beyond his strength, and his wife tyran- 
 nized over the poor child. He was not allowed 
 to go to school, but he studied all the harder to 
 overcome his disadvantages. He used to come 
 to us on Sunday evenings and I would help him 
 with his lessons. Ted is fiery, but not ill-natured, 
 and generous to a fault. He thinks no kind of 
 work degrading. He would as lief I should see 
 him splitting rails or ditching as not. 
 
 " Papa says Ted does not love me, and that he 
 has no stability, no fixed principle ; but I think 
 he is prejudiced against my poor boy. 
 
 " He has always been so brave, too. I remem- 
 ber long ago his sleeping on a slab in a grave- 
 yard, because some one dared him to do it ; and 
 the man tried to play a trick on him by stalking 
 among the graves at midnight wrapped in a sheet ; 
 but Ted, when he waked and saw him, ran after 
 him, snatched off his sheet and made him a laugh- 
 ing-stock by telling on him. I remember his 
 coming to our house one night in the sleet, al- 
 most frozen, to get a novel for his ' mistress ' as 
 he called the overbearing wife of his guardian. 
 Somehow his brave endurance of discomfort and 
 
164 SSUOLDING AS iJV A GLASS. 
 
 privation always excited my warmest sympathies ; " 
 and so saying, Zetta burst into tears. 
 
 " Dear Zetta," said Vivia, embracing her, while 
 her own voice quivered, " don't give up so ; 
 be patient and things may turn out better than 
 you think. It is hard to have our plans and hopes 
 frustrated, but we may be better off for the trials 
 afterwards. They are like thunder-storms which 
 purify the air. I have a great terror of lightning, 
 but what would summer be without it ? Think 
 of the stagnating atmosphere, the unwholesome 
 earth ! Zetta, darling, why should you think of 
 getting married yet awhile, if ever ? I believe 
 people are better off single, especially if , one has 
 any particular work to do." 
 
 " O, Vivia ! how can you talk like that ? You 
 surely never loved any one. 
 
 " Simply because I am warned by the experience 
 of the two people dearest to me in the world. 
 They have had their lives spoiled by being tied 
 fast to partners who are really clogs to every 
 generous feeling, every hopeful aspiration. As 
 you have trusted me, dear Zetta, I may also 
 confide in you. 
 
 " My sister, who has been a mother to me, is 
 miserably married. Her husband drinks whiskey, 
 uses tobacco, and swears like a trooper. When 
 I think of what Sister Mary has suffered at his 
 hands, I feel as if nothing could atone. Having 
 shared her distresses so long, I hoped, when I 
 came out here, to enter upon a scene of domestic 
 
Beholding as in a glass. log 
 
 peace ; but lo and behold ! it is the same old 
 story, reversed as to persons. My brother is a 
 cipher in his home ; his tastes are ignored, his 
 preferences disregarded, and home made miser- 
 able. O, Zetta dear, why should you wish to 
 marry when you are so well off ? " 
 
 " My dear Vivia, I do not wish to marry on my 
 own account, but to keep Ted straight. He is so 
 headstrong. He will rush into some foolish match 
 — if I throw him overboard." 
 
 " Then you must think him as unstable as your 
 father says he is." 
 
 " I see you have the best of the argument, 
 Vivia, and I confess I do love Ted, about the 
 only unanswerable reason for my thinking of him. 
 But I have no hope now. Since poor Paula has 
 shipwrecked her happiness, papa is less inclined to 
 make any allowances for Ted." 
 
 " But, Zetta, p»rhaps Pauline has not done so 
 badly. That Mr. Recamier is polished and in- 
 telligent, and I wouldn't be surprised if he made 
 her happy. Look on the bright side, dear, and 
 above all dismiss Ted from your mind, for awhile 
 at least." 
 
Io6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " God's garden, where tall lilies grow, 
 Silver, and golden, and sweet ; 
 Where crimson roses only blow 
 To shed their bloom at His feet. 
 
 " Purple pansies, with hearts of fire, 
 
 Violets bathed in their own perfume ; 
 Amid the rainbow tangle of flowers 
 Can a little herb find room ? 
 
 " Herbs will sweeten the bleak hillside, 
 Where flowers can never grow ; 
 Through winter frosts the wren will bide. 
 And sing above the snow. 
 
 " And God accepts, with tgnder love. 
 The service true and sweet ; 
 Can nightingales or roses give 
 A service more complete ? " 
 
 These lines in a newspaper were read twice 
 over by Vivia, who then pasted them in her scrap- 
 book. 
 
 " I am a wren, a little herb," she said to herself, 
 " without any beauty to predispose people in my 
 favor. Celia, Elma, Zetta and Emma are roses, 
 lilies, violets, and pansies in the garden of life, 
 while I — what have I ? Nothing. Not even the 
 power to express my thoughts so as to make them 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 107 
 
 of any monetary value. What have I ever suc- 
 ceeded at ? " 
 
 Quite oblivious to the fact that she was just 
 entering the arena of womanhood, the young girl 
 dropped her head and gave way to a spell of 
 gloom. The occasion of all this self-disgust and 
 humiliation lay in a letter from an editor, to whose 
 magazine she had been sending a series of articles, 
 on his promise to pay. Now, having used her 
 pieces, he wrote her that he was " not making ex- 
 penses, and couldn't pay her.'' She felt as if all 
 her labor had been thrown away ; lying awake 
 nights and getting up before the morning star 
 had risen, writing painfully by the light of a 
 tallow candle, with lead pencil on yellow scraps 
 of paper, then copying off on hoarded strips of 
 paper bought with money made by sewing for the 
 negroes ; this was what she looked back to, and, 
 in the paucity of rewards, do you wonder that the 
 faithful little worker was discouraged ? 
 
 But the bit of poetry in a scrap of old news- 
 paper comforted her, and at the sound of Captain 
 Lemuir's voice, calling " Sissie ! " she ran to him 
 with her usual alacrity, and finding him under the 
 harness shed she blithely set about helping him 
 by winding some strong thread for him to mend 
 harness with. 
 
 " I hope you will bring me a letter from town," 
 she said, waxing a needle full of thread. " I'm 
 looking for one from Sister Mary. I wish you 
 knew her as well as I do, brother; she makes 
 
Io8 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 religion seem the loveliest thing in the world ; she 
 would do away with all your doubts." 
 
 " Why, sissie, I knew her before you were born ! 
 You must recollect she and I were boy and girl 
 together while you were in the humming-bird 
 stage. Did she ever tell you about Jeff's court- 
 ship ? No ? Well, she was off at college and 
 went for a vacation visit to some girl friend, and 
 the first thing father knew here came this gentle- 
 man, Jeff Newsome, in a two-horse buggy driven 
 by a stylish black driver, and asked his consent to 
 a speedy marriage. 
 
 " Pa knew nothing about him personally, but 
 he knew that his family boasted of their blue 
 blood and University educations, and so he only 
 objected on the score of Mary's extreme youth. 
 Jeff was good-looking in those days, very good- 
 natured, and soon ingratiated himself with every- 
 body, I, especially, thinking him the best fellow 
 in the world. 
 
 " Poor father was even then getting involved 
 from his security debts, and was highly pleased 
 at the idea of Mary's ' marrying rich ; ' for you 
 see Jeff cut such a splurge that he made folks 
 think he was rolling in wealth. The fact was he 
 never had anything much, and he was a perfect 
 spendthrift. Money slipped through his fingers 
 like water, and no one could ever tell what it went 
 for. He soon became a nuisance, visiting us often, 
 staying long and asking for many things. Pa 
 could never refuse him, yet he might as well have 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 109 
 
 put his money in the fire for any good that his 
 gifts did Mary." 
 
 "Well, he is that very way yet, only more so," 
 said Vivia ; " but Sister Mary is so industf ious that 
 if she can get even a negro boy to plough she man- 
 ages to make enough corn and meat for the family 
 to live on." 
 
 " Poor thing ! she works with a millstone tied 
 to her neck. Shakespeare says, ' A young man 
 married is marred,' but he might as well have in- 
 cluded the women. My notion is that Jeff never 
 would have turned out so worthless if he had not 
 had Mary to look after him at so early an age." 
 
 " I think you are mistaken, brother. He would 
 not have amounted to anything under any cir- 
 cumstances. With his habits he would soon be 
 a beggar if it were not for Sister Mary. I was 
 studying ' Locksley Hall ' the other night, and I 
 thought what a brilliant exception she was to the 
 category involved in those lines : 
 
 " ' As the husband is the wife is, 
 Thou art mated with a clown, 
 And the grossness of his nature, 
 
 Will have weight to drag thee down.' 
 
 " Sister Mary is truly refined and maintains 
 her dignity no matter what brother Jeff does. 
 Her orchard and flower garden are great resources. 
 She sells the fruit, and also many young plants 
 from her hot-beds. She can graft and bud fruit- 
 trees and rose-bushes as well as any man. She 
 is the staff and real head of her family." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 One afternoon a little black boy brought a note 
 to Vivia, from Emma Pryor, asking her to go 
 over and spend the night. She had made many 
 visits since the one described, and was quite 
 familiar with the way. 
 
 As Captain Lemuir was busy, she decided to go 
 over on horseback. 
 
 As she was crossing the bottom on her way 
 there, a short distance from Mrs. Pryor's house, she 
 heard screams, presently the sound of some one 
 tearing through the underbrush and making a 
 peculiar, snorting sound. Immediately there 
 came in sight, looking as if in the worst phase of 
 his malady, Mose Planner. 
 
 His white Osnaburg clothes were red with clay, 
 his face bleeding with briar scratches, his mouth 
 foaming while he shrieked at the top of his voice, 
 " Fire ! Fire ! " 
 
 He recognized Vivia, and grasping her bridle 
 made as if to lead her horse in the direction of 
 Mrs. Pryor's. Frightened at his looks and suppos- 
 ing he had finally gone mad, she jerked her reins 
 away, and putting whip to her horse dashed off at 
 full gallop. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. ill 
 
 Mose made no effort to follow, but ran into the 
 woods shrieking " Fire ! Fire ! " as he ran. 
 
 Nearing the house Vivia again heard violent 
 outcries, and as she rode up to the gate Mrs. 
 Pryor flew towards her, throwing up her arms 
 and crying out, " O Vivia ! Emma's burnt to 
 death ! " 
 
 Speechless with horror, Vivia stood there 
 embracing the agonized mother, who sobbed and 
 screamed. 
 
 " Come ! " said Mrs. Pryor, " she is still alive ! 
 
 my child, my child ! " 
 
 In the sitting-room, on a bed drawn into the 
 middle of the floor, lay Emma, but an hour before 
 the personification of exuberant health, agony 
 now distorting her features and discoloring her 
 fair skin. 
 
 To explain the cause of this catastrophe we 
 will give it in the language of the only eye- 
 witness, Jane, Mrs. Pryor's colored factotum. 
 
 " You see, missus she done gone to see Hetty's 
 baby what was took wid the conwulsions. She say 
 she be back 'fore Miss Vivia be here, and she say, 
 ' See here now, Emma, you stir yourself, and git 
 dem pillow-case done 'fore she come, and putdem 
 on de bed.' Den she say, ' Jane, for the Laud sake, 
 mek 'aste an' finish da ironing.' 
 
 " You see I had fire in de sittin'-room, like 
 
 1 mos' allers dus, an' after missus gone I called 
 Parm — she was playin' in de yard, — I say, ' Parm, 
 fetch me in some fat chips to mek dis fire bu'n ; so 
 
112 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 Farm she cumed inwid her apurn full, an' presenty 
 she had powerful blaze. Miss Emma lef de sew- 
 in' musheen an' cum to de fire. She say she 
 b'l'eve she hab a chill and she stan' right up wid 
 her back to de fire ; den she kneel down still wid 
 her back to de fire. 
 
 " Presenty I year Farm holler out, ' Sissie, yer 
 frock's on fire ! ' I turn round, quickern lightning, 
 but Laud ! 'fore I could get my han's on um she 
 done cleared de door and was running like a wild 
 deer ! Mose Planner and George was ploughin' 
 de garding, an' dat idjut Mose trow down ebry- 
 ting and cut for de woods. I tell George, ' Ketch 
 her ! Ketch her ! ' He went stavein' an' las' he 
 cotch her an' trowed her down an' put out de fire. 
 But Laud, de child' close done bu'nt offen em, 
 an' she clean gone outen her senses. God hav' 
 mussy on my poo, pescious young missus ! " 
 
 Emma's face was but slightly disfigured — the 
 pretty brown hair was scorched ofl one side of 
 her temple. Her blue eyes gazed appealingly at 
 those who stood at her bedside ; she moved rest- 
 lessly but said nothing, only sighed. Her mother 
 wrung her hands, and, the tears flooding her face, 
 sobbed — "O Lord! my child! If I could only 
 have saved you ! O darling ! don't you know 
 your ma would bear it for you if she could?" 
 
 Mrs. Planner and Jane finished covering the 
 burns with lint cotton, dipped in sweet oil. 
 George had gone post-haste for Dr. Livingstone. 
 Vivia took her place by the side of the sufferer 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A CLASS. 113 
 
 with a fly-brush, holding to her lips every few 
 moments a draught of cold water. 
 
 Soon neighbors began to arrive, for George, 
 on his way, had spread the news. By night there 
 were at least a hundred, white and colored, 
 gathered in house and yard, squatting and 
 standing about light wood fires they had kindled. 
 
 Emma now lay quiet, and her mother reclined 
 beside her, while little Farm slept soundly on the 
 lounge, having cried herself asleep. 
 
 The moon had risen and was flooding all out of 
 doors with silvery radiance, when the doctor 
 arrived. Inside there was the soft buzz of voices 
 whispering. 
 
 Vivia held the lamp while he examined the 
 burns. He stepped out to the piazza, asking her 
 to follow. As she started Mrs. Pryor whispered, 
 " Make him tell you if there's any hope." 
 
 Walking up to him he saw tears in her eyes. 
 He understood what she would ask, and said : 
 
 " She is dying, my dear young lady, but she is 
 passing easily. The vital effort ceased when you 
 supposed she fell asleep ; she has felt no pain since. 
 With suspended sensibility she could not suffer. 
 But stay here ; don't let her mother know. It 
 would be a pity to disturb so quiet a death- 
 bed. It is nearly over. Tell me the particulars 
 of the accident." She did so, and Dr. Livingstone 
 returned to sit by Emma, while she went through 
 the last act in the drama of life. As for Vivia, 
 
 she stood in the shadowy end of the piazza, lean- 
 8 
 
114 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 ing on the bannisters, watching the moon going 
 down through the trees and thinking of the 
 problem of death about to be solved for one 
 young soul. 
 
 What was this cold, creeping drowsiness steal- 
 ing over the form so lately warm, palpitating with 
 vigorous life. If death is only a cessation of feel- 
 ings of which the mind takes cognizance, why 
 should it be painful ? If a mere gradual or sud- 
 den stoppage of the action of the vital powers, 
 why should we fear it ? 
 
 " The death-stroke is only a myth, a figure of 
 the imagination, little girl," her brother had said to 
 her, and the words came back with such vividness 
 that she turned and was not surprised to find him 
 beside her. 
 
 He said softly, " Go in, you will take cold." She 
 obeyed, and as she entered the room saw Emma, 
 with her blue eyes wide open, and heard her say 
 distinctly, " O papa ! " A smile irradiated her face, 
 and she was gone. 
 
 " Dear child," said the old doctor, stooping to 
 kiss her forehead, " I loved you very much." 
 
 The women took possession of the yet warm 
 body, doing the last ofiSces gently and lovingly, ar- 
 raying her in the white linen dress her own in- 
 dustrious fingers had finished the day before. 
 
 Captain Lemuir went to arrange about digging 
 the grave and to order the casket. He returned 
 at twelve o'clock next day with his wife and chil- 
 dren, helped to put the body in the coffin, accom- 
 
BEHOLDING AS m A GLASS. 115 
 
 jf)anied the procession in the long and weary way 
 to the private burial-place, six miles distant, where 
 all that was mortal of the fair young maid, 
 adored by so many, was put out of sight. 
 
 The captain was kind to his distressed neighbor. 
 He carried his wife home, arranged for Lambmy 
 to sleep in the house, as " the madame was scary," 
 and then, late as it was, went back to Mrs. Pryor's 
 and did what he could to comfort the bereaved 
 household. He consented for Vivia to remain as 
 long as their unhappy friend should need her. 
 With a singleness of aim which was characteristic 
 of her, Vivia resolved to give up the writing which 
 was so dear, and devote herself to making life en- 
 durable to the desolate mother and little Parm, 
 neither of whom could bear to be left alone a 
 moment. In that silent but effective manner of 
 hers, Vivia went to putting things to rights. See- 
 ing her friend puzzling over her accounts, Vivia 
 proposed to help her, and ended by taking charge 
 of them entirely, as Mrs. Pryor found her, to use 
 her own expression, " a master hand." She went 
 with her hostess over the farm and got many 
 ideas from her about planning for a crop. Vivia 
 was a good listener, but only at times a talker. 
 When the spirit moved her she fairly overflowed 
 with speech, conveyed in a vein that sparkled with 
 fun or feeling, humor and originality ; but as a 
 constant habit she would have been classed among 
 the quiet, as opposed to the chatty women or 
 small talkers. She now, however, struggled against 
 
Ii6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 her natural turn, and ransacked her well-stored 
 memory and ingenious fancy, for talk to amuse or 
 divert her grieving friend. In order to keep her 
 busy also, she begged her to teach her to sew on 
 Emma's machine, and went to work on the spring 
 garments right where Emma had left off ; and 
 though this started the tears, it dried them too, for 
 there was much to do ; and Vivia soon showed 
 she was capable of this kind of work also. Soon 
 she was running the machine as well as Emma 
 ever had, while Mrs. Pryor basted and talked. 
 The latter decided to give her orders for mourning 
 dresses to a first-class dressmaker in Melita, leav- 
 ing the selection of material to her. She confided 
 to Vivia that she thought this best, as she would 
 be going to Virginia to see her relatives and let 
 them condole with her, as soon as she could ar- 
 range her crop matters. 
 
 " I want us to be real stylish," she said. " You 
 know my folks ain't no way common, if I do say 
 it myself ; but there ain't no use in wearin' black 
 about home, when everybody knows there's been 
 a death in the family, and that I'm most grieved 
 out'n my senses, but I want to be in first-class 
 goods abroad." 
 
 As to poor Mrs. Pryor's being the " most unlit- 
 ery " one of her family, as she expressed it, Vivia 
 had discovered that from the letters of family cor- 
 respondence which all passed through her hands, as 
 Mrs. Pryor was not slow to discover her quickness 
 with the pen and utilize her as an amanuensis. 
 
BEHOLD ti^G AS tN A GLASS. iff 
 
 The answers she wrote, with just an occasional 
 hint from Mrs. Pryor, impressed that practical 
 woman as proofs of a most uncommon talent. 
 
 " I do think, Vivia," she said, " you could make 
 a fortune writing a book if you would try ; I ain't 
 never seen a woman with such a head for business, 
 and writin', and work of all descriptions as you." 
 
 But she had not yet come to the end of Vivia's 
 talents ; for in order to induce drowsiness, the lat- 
 ter offered to read aloud to her, but she made it 
 " so interestin," that Mrs. Pryor declared she'd 
 " ruther listen than go to preachin'. Why, you 
 make it sound as natural as if folks was talkin'." 
 So Vivia left off the reading and took to stroking 
 her friend's hair at night, and singing " Rock of 
 Ages," which put her and little Parm to sleep and 
 made them dream of heaven. 
 
 One day her brother came and stayed to dinner, 
 making himself so agreeable that Mrs. Pryor de- 
 clared, when he had gone, that if she " could only 
 find a man like him in the matrimonial market, 
 she would be too glad to give him herself and her 
 property." 
 
 Vivia's stay, at first intended to be only a week, 
 lengthened into a month, and yet her friend 
 pleaded for her to remain till she could get ready 
 to start for Virginia. Truth to tell, in this atmos- 
 phere of love and appreciation, the girl thrived 
 like a plant transferred from sterile, wind-baked 
 ground to a warm, mellow soil. Nor was the 
 element of literary congeniality wholly wanting ; 
 
Ii8 BEHOLDING AS m A GLASS. 
 
 for Noisette Miln came very often, uniting her 
 efforts with Vivia's to divert the mourner. It 
 was; her generous heart's atonement for the some- 
 times jealous feeling with which she had regarded 
 Emma's coquetry with Ted Norwood. 
 
 After one of her visits Mrs. Pryor said : " I don't 
 hear anybody tell of her and Ted keeping com- 
 pany any more. I reckon her father's made them 
 quit. I'm sorry now I didn't let Emma marry. 
 She mightn't a got burnt up if I had. Emma 
 had lots of offers ; she was a girl that took with 
 the men. She wasn't fast, neither. Ted Nor- 
 wood thought heaps of her. I see him stan' be- 
 hind a tree crying the evening we buried her. He 
 is a good-hearted fellow if he is fiery. I just tell 
 you how it is with me, Vivia : I all the time keep 
 thinking how easy she might a been saved. If Jane 
 had only got hold of her, or if George had been 
 in time, or if I hadn't gone to see Hetty's baby." 
 
 " Try not to think of such possibilities," said 
 
 Vivia ; " try to think of her as better off ; for she 
 
 is far better off than she could have ever been in 
 
 this world of pain and sorrow, from which all your 
 
 love would have proved powerless to save her. 
 
 Suppose she had lived and married badly ? Now 
 
 she's — 
 
 " ' Safe in the arms of Jesus, 
 Safe from corroding care, 
 Safe from the world's temptations, 
 Sin cannot reach her there.' ! 
 
 " It is far better for her to have died in her 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 119 
 
 blooming youth than to have lived to be an un- 
 happy wife. It is worse for a woman to be badly 
 mated than for a man ; for a husband can blight 
 the most trivial details of a woman's life, but the 
 hen-pecked man escapes from his tormentor when 
 he goes out doors." 
 
 " You talk like an experienced woman, Vivia, 
 and I often think you have an ' old head on young 
 shoulders.' How did you ever get such notions 
 anyway ? " asked Mrs. Pryor, her spirit of inquiry 
 strong even in her most afflicted moments. 
 
 " I have seen something of the miseries of mar- 
 ried life," said the girl, with an absent look on her 
 face. ' I've heard one poor lady say she wished 
 she had died in girlhood rather than have lived to 
 be the wife of a man who thought so much of his 
 own looks that he'd get up in the night and light 
 a lamp just to look at himself in the glass ; and he 
 would coolly appropriate every luxury or comfort, 
 and ignore her as completely as if she were a dog." 
 
 " Well, that wasn't me," said Mrs Pryor. " I had 
 the best husband, the kindest man on earth. He 
 done everything a man oughter do, and was 
 clean and square and above-board in all his deal- 
 ings. Ef I could ever find such anuther, I'd 
 marry him if he was willin'. I tell you, Vivia, it 
 done me good to see how happy that young couple 
 was — I mean Pauline Miln and Reckymier — with 
 their soft whisperin', and kissin' a million times a 
 day. I went with them to old Cheowah-town in 
 my rockaway to get her weddin' fixins. La ! 
 
120 SEHOLDIMG AS IN A GLaSS. 
 
 you ought to seen him tryin'on bonnets on her. 
 He took a bunch of flowers and helt it clost to 
 her face, and said the roses blushed because the 
 rose in her cheek was so much sweeter. O, they 
 was happy sure, though Paula didn't have no 
 more idea how to cook than the man in the moon. 
 Not as much, if his pickin'up chips was for that 
 purpose ; but Mr. Reckymier kept saying his pen 
 could purchase all they wanted. He paid prompt 
 for his board and was a perfect gentleman, if he 
 did steal his wife. 
 
 " My goodness ! Vivia, just look at Mose Plan- 
 ner! What's the matter now, Mose?" Mrs. 
 Pryor exclaimed, as the demented boy appeared. 
 
 " You see this knife," he said, showing them an 
 old blunt, broken carving-knife. " I'm going to 
 kill any man that comes after her. She is down 
 in a hole, but she shan't be bothered. I ain't 
 going to let 'em pester her any more. If any 
 sheep tries to paw her up I'll cut him with this 
 knife. I come mighty near killin' one last night. 
 I made him baa. I hates a sheep, I hates a cow. I 
 won't have any leather on my foot." 
 
 He squatted down, untied his shoes and tossed 
 them away. 
 
 " Mose, don't you want some 'lasses cakes ? 
 cause if you do you can just go round to the 
 stove-room and tell Jane that I say she is to give 
 you as many as you want to eat." 
 
 This turned the tide of Mose's thoughts, and 
 he trotted off to the house. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. ijl 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 It was the evening before Mrs. Pryor's de- 
 parture for Virginia that she said to Vivia : " I 
 want you to do me a great favor. You know 
 how n:iuch you've been to me since Emma died. 
 Now that we are going to part, I want to give 
 you something to remember me by." 
 
 " I'm sure I won't need anything to remind 
 me, dear friend. I can never forget what a mother 
 you have been to me." 
 
 " Pshaw ! I haven't done anything to speak of, 
 but do, Vivia, don't refuse to accept this watch 
 and bracelet and ring. The watch belonged to 
 my mother, and the bracelet and ring was Emma's. 
 The watch is old-fashioned, and once in a while 
 has to go to the jeweler's to be fixed, but in the 
 main you'll find it a good time-piece and kinder 
 useful. The bracelet used to look pretty on Emma's 
 round, white arm." 
 
 " I will take the watch, Mrs. Pryor, but I beg 
 you will keep the ring and bracelet, for I prefer 
 not to wear jewelry, and some time or other these 
 will come in nicely for little Parm." 
 
 Seeing resolution in her eyes, Mrs. Pryor, with 
 many a protest, ceased to urge the matter. 
 
122 BE HOLDING AS W A GLASS. 
 
 Next morning Captain Lemuir came, listened 
 to Mrs. Pryor's final instructions, he having agreed 
 to look after her business in her absence, and at 
 last drove off with his sister in one direction, as 
 Mrs. Pryorand Parm left in another. Mrs. Lemuir 
 was making preparations to attend a barbecue, 
 which was to take place the following Saturday at 
 Oak Grove, a spot selected for its spring of clear 
 water and dense shades. 
 
 Though the day opened its eyes tearfully, and 
 several showers came down during the early morn- 
 ing, the later hours brought clear skies and a 
 delightful atmosphere tempered by sweet breezes. 
 Thus favored, the crowds flocked to the ren- 
 dezvous where two large arbors of green boughs 
 had been constructed the day before ; and where 
 all night long a force of men, white and colored, 
 had been at work preparing the barbecued meats, 
 vfhich consisted of whole beeves, sheep, hogs and 
 numerous kids. As the captain and his family 
 wended their way thither, they overtook crowds 
 of people in every kind of conveyance — carriages, 
 buggies, rockaways, spring-wagons and lumbering 
 farm wagons, young men and women on horse- 
 back, muleback, and an army on foot. 
 
 It was an amusing and motley procession, 
 described by the captain as " white folks and 
 niggers, old and young, working-men and poli- 
 ticianers," all intent on a day of frolic, and gen- 
 erally good-natured. 
 
 As they approached the grounds the sounds of 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 123 
 
 brass instruments were heard, indicating that the 
 exercises were about to begin. This band had its 
 own sheltered box near the " Grand Stand," and 
 proved a perfect magnet for the people, white 
 and colored. In its rear was a large open space 
 covered with bran, or sawdust for " bran dancing," 
 as it was called in the vernacular. Under the 
 shade of the great cotton-wood trees were the 
 dinner-tables, fifty feet in length each side, sur- 
 rounding a hollow square. The barbecue pits 
 were shallow ditches, where whole shoats, calves, 
 sheep and beeves were being roasted on beds of 
 red coals. 
 
 There were now at least fifteen hundred people 
 on the grounds, about one-third seated or stand- 
 ing in earshot of the orator, of course a " can- 
 didate," who hoped, by amusing the people, to 
 win their suffrage. 
 
 Vivia soon tired of his trite wit and evident 
 subserviency of spirit, and was glad to give up 
 her seat to a tired-looking woman with a baby 
 and walk off down to the spring with Noisette 
 Miln, who, with her stepmother and sisters, had 
 driven up just as they did, having with them a 
 niece of Mrs. Miln's, Lide Poitevant, of New 
 Orleans, who was resplendent in satin and dia- 
 monds, a type of the ultra fashionable, new to 
 Vivia's experience. 
 
 The new girl and Elma made themselves con- 
 spicuous among the bran-dancers, first by waltz- 
 ing together, then by waltzing with men ; but to 
 
124 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 Vivia's great surprise she noticed Teddy Norwood 
 among Elma's gallants, and appearing to be the 
 favored one. He waltzed with much grace, but 
 his black eyes looked bloodshot. Her attention 
 was quickly diverted, however, by the appear- 
 ance of a Mr. Walkup, who was introduced to 
 her and Zetta by Jimmie Snow. He was a cross- 
 eyed, large man, wearing his beaver on the back 
 of his head, a great deal of white to his eyes, and 
 little sacks, underneath. 
 
 " And how are you enjoying this beautiful 
 occasion, Miss Miln ? " he asked, as he stood 
 holding his beaver and regarding Zetta with 
 great complacency. 
 
 Then without waiting for an answer, " I never 
 beheld such a concourse. It reminds me of the 
 Scriptures, ' And before Him shall be gathered 
 all nations.' '• 
 
 " Why, really, Mr. Walkup, do you think this 
 crowd so vast as to suggest the last judgment? " 
 
 " There are many, many here," he replied, 
 shaking his head solemnly. " Miss Miln, do you 
 think Daniel's goat was a man ? " 
 
 Noisette's laughing eyes were full of astonish- 
 ment as she said : " I fear I do not comprehend 
 you." 
 
 " Why, don't you recollect the fifth and sixth 
 verses of the eighth chapter of Daniel ? The 
 goat with the notable horn ? The goat with the 
 notable horn between his eyes which came to the 
 ram that had two horns, and ran into him in the 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 125 
 
 fury of his power? Why, now, you must admit 
 that that goat was undoubtedly Alexander ? or 
 else Napoleon ? or, if neither of them, I corner 
 you on General Albert Sydney Johnston, spelt 
 with a T ? " He looked at her with such an 
 interrogation point imprinted on his face that 
 Zetta felt forced to answer, and murmured, " I 
 never thought about it." 
 
 "That's the trouble," declared Mr. Walkup, 
 dogmatically, " people don't think ; the last thing 
 folks do is to think, and — er, read ! " 
 
 " I fear you are right," replied she, fanning 
 herself vigorously, " but my friend here. Miss 
 Lemuir, is better versed in Scripture than I." 
 
 " Well, now. Miss Lemuir, what do you say to 
 Bonaparte ? He waxed great and cast down some 
 of the stars from heaven. Jest like old Bony. 
 You know he stomped on the Austrians and the 
 Italeyans ! The fact of the business is. Miss Miln 
 (returning to Zetta), all these things were predesti- 
 nated, you know. ' For whom He did predestinate 
 He also did foreknow.' Now, Miss Miln, I want 
 to prove to you that it is impossible for you to 
 fall from grace. ' Once in grace always in grace,' 
 is a true saying. ' If the foundation be removed, 
 what can the righteous do ? ' " 
 
 " Cousin Zetta, will you dance with me ? " said 
 the voice of Teddy Norwood, and as she bowed 
 to Mr. Walkup, she said : " Please excuse me, my 
 friend Miss Lemuir will report the rest of your 
 argument to me," ' But she had no sooner gone 
 
126 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 than this singular cavalier walked away, leaving 
 Vivia in a gale of laughter, though also a little 
 frightened at being left alone in so large a crowd. 
 
 Deliverance from her dilemma came in the 
 shape of Jack Snow, who put in an appearance 
 with a man in a neat, well done-up flax suit and 
 low-quartered shoes, whose large features had a 
 benevolent cast, though his tones were disagree- 
 ably nasal. After the usual preliminaries he 
 began to talk of dinner, and to hope that the 
 barbecued meats would be done. " I'm 'fraid 
 there'll not be near enough for this crowd. I 
 went to a picnic onct and all I got was a piece o' 
 yellow-corn bread and a lump of ice, and I could 
 a-done sights better'n that at home. Fact, it 
 give me the colic ! Bill Stokes made his dinner 
 offen a big long pickle and a loaf of baker's bread, 
 and it never singed him. Sech a difference in 
 people that way ! Now I has the 'spepsy, and a 
 .piece of pickle no bigger'n a half dollar knocks 
 me out for twenty-four hours. I expects to be 
 made sick by this very barbecue. You know 
 barbecued meats ain't never done." 
 
 " Why eat them then ? " asked Vivia. 
 
 " O, well, you see I likes 'em, and I can't help 
 eating what I likes." 
 
 He then gave her the history of all the ailments 
 with which he had been afflicted from his youth 
 up, concluding with the doleful story of how he 
 had lost his wife and was now a widder-man, and 
 he found it monsous ill-convenient. " You see, my 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 127 
 
 sons is all married, 'cept my youngest, Mary, and 
 she ain't got the least idee how to cook, and 
 kain't make up no beds ; and the worst of it is 
 going home and findin' no lights in the house and 
 no supper ; for you see I has a woman hired, and 
 she says she goes by the two-meal system, and 
 so it's either take cold bread and skim-milk or 
 nothin'." 
 
 He went on to say that he was " casting sheep's 
 eyes round, and hoped to make his ch'ice 'fore 
 long," when, to Vivia's great relief, her sister-in- 
 law and Mrs. Miln came up. They were evidently 
 well acquainted with Mr. Jones, for they at once 
 went to bantering him in a way that was not at all 
 to Vivia's liking. He, however, proved himself 
 very useful to them, getting them comfortable 
 chairs out of his own wagon so that they could sit. 
 and see the bran-dancing, which was now going 
 on under one arbor, while the political speakers 
 shouted vociferously under another. Vivia sat 
 silent, paying little attention to the ill-natured 
 comments of Mrs. Lemuir on the dancers. Beat- 
 rice Planner, a large, yellow-haired sister of Mose, 
 was jumping about heavily, under the impression 
 that she was " dancing with the quality ; " but 
 Elma, all in white lace and corn-colored silk, turned 
 her back on her, waving her aside as she did others 
 of that ilk. 
 
 By and by dinner was announced, and gentle- 
 men led up ladies till the entire length was 
 surrounded, and they filled the inside of the hollow 
 
128 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 square. One of the ministers present said " grace," 
 then the gentlemen went to work to serve the 
 ladies ; and not a man took a mouthful till every 
 woman and child was abundantly helped. Vivia 
 made her dinner off a piece of mutton which had 
 been perfectly roasted, so that all its nutritious 
 juices were within the brown and delicate cuticle. 
 She greatly enjoyed it. 
 
 As they were leaving the tables Mrs. Lemuir 
 whispered to her, " If Mr. Jones asks you to ride 
 with him, don't be a goose, but go." 
 
 Sure enough, when soon after buggy rides be- 
 came the amusement of the afternoon, the beaux 
 taking out the belles, the " widder-man " came to 
 ask Vivia. She went reluctantly, but yet enjoyed 
 it, for Mr. Jones was very funny, and the route to 
 the new bridge,' which all the buggy-riding couples 
 went to see, was quite interesting. And though 
 Mr. Jones came perilously near telling her he had 
 made " his ch'ice," she managed to avert that 
 avowal. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS^ 129 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The summer was unusually hot, the long June 
 days growing furnace-like in temperature, the 
 very breezes feeling as if escaped from a heated 
 stove. The sky was a glaring white, full of form- 
 less, puffy vapors; the sun rose like a crimson ball 
 of fire and went down in the same sullen, angry 
 state, while the burning, thirsty atmosphere ap- 
 peared to lie in blinding, wavy lines, that one 
 seemed to see everywhere just ahead. The cot- 
 ton looked withered at noon, the white and red 
 blossoms folded their petals from the midday 
 blaze, dropped off and exposed the miniature 
 boll or ovary which speedily fell to the ground, 
 scorched to death, thus shortening constantly the 
 prospective crop of cotton. The cornfields took 
 on a yellow, shrivelled garb, described in the 
 vernacular as " fired," or " burnt up." Yet 
 every day at twelve precisely the hot wind rose 
 and blew, filling the air with suffocating clouds of 
 dust. The cisterns failed, the woodland springs 
 dried up at their sources, and the river that had 
 been a flood in March, breaking its bounds and 
 covering all the level lands with lake-like widths 
 9 
 
130 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 of water, was now barely a running stream ; a 
 child could step across. 
 
 The white glare of midday was cruel as battle- 
 smoke, and only when night drew her pavilions 
 across the sky, powdering them with stars, did 
 the air become pleasant, and the hot walls and 
 furniture, and even the shuck mattresses, lose their 
 heat. This terribly " heated terjn " was pecul- 
 iarly trying to Vivia, from her being unac- 
 climated. 
 
 It was a dull household at Ridley Farm, with 
 its ill-assorted couple, their spoiled children, and 
 the air of ennui that seemed to cling about it. 
 Mrs. Lemuir lolled all day in a rocking-chair or 
 on the bed, reading novels. The captain retired, 
 as it were, from society, into a hammock swung 
 to a branch of the big sycamore in the back-yard, 
 and immersed himself in his beloved Philosophy. 
 As to Vivia, she could no longer sleep in the 
 little room under the roof, but resorted to a pallet 
 of quilts on the floor of the best room. In spite 
 of the heat, a tree of very fine peaches perfected 
 its fruit, and Mrs. Lemuir invited Elma, Celia 
 and Noisette to come over and enjoy them. Elma 
 and Celia were to go to Cedar Mountain in two 
 days, and Mrs. Lemuir had just heard of a project 
 of General Miln's to send Zetta to Europe with his 
 sister, who would leave New York in ten days. 
 
 On the arrival of the girls a table was set under 
 the trees on the lawn, and they all assembled 
 there to partake of the cakes poor Vivia had 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 131 
 
 almost melted in making, and the iced peaches in 
 cream. 
 
 Mrs. Lemuir, while helping the company, in- 
 dulged in her usual extravagance of speech, on 
 which she plumed herself as being " so independ- 
 ent, like dear Aunt Henrietta." 
 
 " I'd advise you girls never to marry," said she. 
 " Here I am, stuck down in this out-of-the-way 
 place, with my nose to the grindstone, and if I 
 were single I could have gone with you all to 
 some delightful summer resort instead of languish- 
 ing in this fearful country. I do despise husbands 
 and housekeeping ! If ever I'm a widow, trust 
 me for not getting into such a scrape again." 
 
 " I declare. Cousin Celeste, you are too funny. 
 You remind me of Lide Poitevant's story of her 
 mamma's manoeuvre. She was a gay young widow 
 with an income of ten thousand a year, but con- 
 ditionally, you know ; her dear departed had 
 expressly stipulated in his will that if she changed 
 her name her income and estate should go to 
 Lide. Lide says her mamma was actually so 
 silly as to fall in love with her cousin, once 
 removed cousin by marriage, mind you, a young 
 fellow who was abroad when Cousin Mansfield 
 died, so she married the second time, without 
 changing her name, and kept her money. No 
 doubt you would experiment in the same way if 
 you had a chance." 
 
 " O, cousin Celeste," interrupted Celia, " I wish 
 you could have been at our house last Sunday 
 
134 BEHOLDIMC AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 to have heard Zetta's latest conquest talk. His 
 name is Walkup, and he is a ' hardshell,' alto- 
 gether a capital kernel on which to crack a pun. 
 Hard as is the outside of his shell, the inside is 
 soft enough to be easily addled. He took dinner 
 with us, and kept winking first one eye and then 
 the other at Zetta. He ate so greedily, talked so 
 fast and perspired so profusely, that I looked 
 for him to go into a fit." 
 
 " If he came to see me he gave all his attention 
 to you, Celia," said Zetta. " You know you took 
 possession of him." 
 
 " If I did it was just to laugh at the gump. I 
 asked him why he wore his hat on the back of his 
 head, and got himself so sunburned. He said he 
 had been told that he looked like Horace Greeley 
 with his hat on that way, but he'd wear anything 
 I advised, if it were even a veil." 
 
 " I never saw such a. goose in my born days," 
 put in Elma. "He seems to have got his facts 
 all mixed up in his mind, and tumbled them out 
 like scraps from a rag-bag." 
 
 " He is certainly very irrelevant," laughed Zetta; 
 " but I'm so sorry for the poor boy." 
 
 " I thought I would die with laughing," said 
 Celia, "when he broke in upon some of papa's 
 dignified remarks, with fragments that had no con- 
 nection whatever with what papa was saying. As, 
 for instance, when papa was talking about the 
 prospects of cholera or yellow fever being epidemic 
 this summer, he startled him with ' Robert Mills 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 133 
 
 invented Washington Monument. He died before 
 it was finished, but he planned the whole thing.' 
 I saw the muscles of papa's mouth twitch, but 
 he only explained, in a kind of aside to the rest 
 of us, that Mr. Walkup was speaking of a South 
 Carolinian of genius who designed several of the 
 public buildings in Washington, notably the 
 Patent Office, the U. S. Post Office, the Treasury 
 Building and the Washington Monument." 
 
 " Elma helped out," said Zetta, " by asking, 
 with quite a show of interest, if the Mills House (a 
 fine hotel in Charleston, South Carolina, she has 
 heard mamma speak of) was built by Robert Mills." 
 
 " But I failed to entice him back into smooth 
 sailing on the beaten track," put in Elma, tossing 
 her head. " Excuse the mixture of metaphors, 
 ladies. Well, he paid no attention, but coolly 
 drained his saucer of coffee, and looking up at the 
 ceiling, said solemnly, — ' I reckon it is a fixed fac' 
 that old Nero did have Rome set on fire, and 
 fiddled while it was a-going on.'" 
 
 " O, now, Elma, not quite so bad as that," said 
 Zetta ; " poor Jerry Walkup is an absent-minded, 
 odd kind of fellow, but he really has read a good 
 deal and tells the truth." 
 
 " Meaning that I do not," retorted Elma spite- 
 fully ; " but I see through your game ; playing 
 off Walkup to bring Ted Norwood back to his 
 allegiance. No doubt when he comes back you 
 will run away with him, as Paula's escapade has 
 turned out so well." 
 
134 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 " O, hush ! El," said CeUa, " you are too 
 envious. I am real glad there is no prospect of. 
 our poor Paula's starving. In fact I intend to go 
 on a visit and share my brother-in-law's lionization 
 next winter. There is no place like New Orleans 
 in winter." 
 
 At this point Zetta asked Mrs. Lemuir to excuse 
 Vivia and herself, as they wanted to talk of matters 
 that might bore the rest of the company. Being 
 excused, the two strolled off down by the orchard 
 and took a path through the fields. 
 
 " What do you think, Vivia ? I have a notion 
 of going out of my way to call on your sister 
 Mary when I start to New York." 
 
 " O, I'm so glad ! You will write me how 
 she looks ? I am heart-sick to see her." 
 
 " Certainly I will, and there is a great favor I 
 want you to do me ; that is to write me a letter 
 of introduction to her, and use your influence to 
 induce her to give up Artemesia James to me 
 to carry abroad. You see my idea is to give her 
 a chance to develop her talent for drawing. I 
 will begin by giving her lessons myself, and if 
 I find she has real talent and industry I will have 
 her taught by masters in Germany. I expect to 
 have masters myself, and I think it will be a great 
 comfort to help some one in need. I am in great 
 trouble, Vivia" (her voice faltering), " and I fancy 
 nothing will ease me like taking thought for 
 another. Your account of that poor deformed 
 girl, befriended by your good sister and that 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 135 
 
 clever Mrs. Dorsey, has been \)ften in my mind ; 
 but I fear taking her away may inconvenience 
 your sister." 
 
 " O Zetta ! you do not know Sister Mary ! 
 Why, she would not think of her convenience a 
 moment in comparison with Ortemissy's ad- 
 vantage. But tell me, Zetta, have you any new 
 trouble ? " 
 
 " No, only Teddy, poor boy, is so proud, you 
 know ; and he thinks hard of me because I won't 
 marry him right now, whether papa consents or 
 not, and he tells me papa has bought me off with 
 a trip to Europe and a year in Germany. Then 
 to pique me he has begun a desperate flirtation 
 with Elma, and she encourages him to the top of 
 his bent. O, my friend, I leave with a sore heart 
 and a presentiment that I will never see my poor 
 Ted again." 
 
 Here Zetta broke down, and the two girls 
 mingled their tears. 
 
 At last Vivia got her voice sufficiently to say, 
 " I like Teddy, Zetta, but to be candid with you, 
 I do not think he would make you happy, and I 
 believe you will some day think so yourself. At 
 any rate you will understand your own heart 
 better in a year from now, and if he cannot be 
 faithful that long he does not love you as you 
 deserve." 
 
 " Probably you are right," she said, in the sad- 
 dest tones ; " besides, we are too close kin to 
 marry ; and so I'm glad I'm going out of the 
 
136 BEHOLDING AS I/f A GLASS. 
 
 reach of temptation. Vivia, have you heard that 
 yellow fever is in Melita ? The papers ai'e keep- 
 ing it close, hoping that the doctors and the 
 Board of Health will stamp it out, but it's there. 
 Have you any knowledge of it ? Your beloved 
 old ' city by the sea ' used to have frequent visita- 
 tions of it, did it not ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I am a ' country tackey,' Zetta, and 
 know nothing about it. Yellow fever hasn't ':een 
 in Charleston in epidemic since I've been grown." 
 
 When the friends returned to the house a strik- 
 ing tableau met their eyes. Mrs. Lemuir had 
 drawn her chair close to the lounge where the 
 captain half reclined, and having drawn his head 
 to her bosom, was parting and plaiting his beard, 
 to the delight of Elma, who exclaimed, in her 
 affected voice : 
 
 " Such an exhibition of connubial felicity does 
 my very soul good. If you agree. Cousin Celeste, 
 I will kiss Cousin Arthur myself, the cleft in his 
 chin makes his lips so inviting." So saying she 
 stooped and gave him a kiss to the great disgust 
 of Vivia and Noisette. 
 
BEtiOLbiNQ AS m A GLASS. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LETTER FROM MRS. PRYOR TO VIVIA. 
 
 " Fawkeer, Va, May, 1 8 — . 
 " My dear Vivia : — 
 
 "You no I aint no hand to rite, but I must try to 
 anser your letters, which is that nice I dont no how 
 to thank you. I do no it looks ungreatful for me not 
 to rite before, but I see so menny peeple, and goin' 
 round so much, till seems as if there aint no time to 
 set about ritin. But thar's no tellin how glad I am 
 to get your letters, and me and sister Cattie laffed 
 at that barberkew you rote about, till we most died. 
 Sister Cattie ses you oughter rite a book, you rite so 
 butiful. We is havin a real nice time, only Parm can't 
 seem to get over the mumps, and shee's crazy to get 
 back home to ride the colt. Her kitten, which she 
 brought all the way in her arms is dead, of the " cat- 
 foby" I reckon, for it had serious fits and I was 
 awful 'fraid it would bite Parm. I will tell you a 
 grate secret, you must never tell as long as you live ; 
 I am goin to be marrid to a methodist preacher, a 
 cirkit-rider, by the name of Crook. He makes me 
 think of Mr. Pryor all the time. He's made like him, 
 (a good stout chunk of a man), and sister Cattie says, 
 she aint no objection to him, only his houseful of chil- 
 dren ; but I forgot to tell you he's a widower I kant 
 look back to see if I made any mistakes I aint no 
 
138 Beholding as in a glass. 
 
 hand with the pen, and you must excuse all urers, and 
 Mr. Crook, ain't ridin' a cirkit this year. He's a su- 
 pernumary, he has got the throat-ale. He has in all 
 seven children, but two of them is marrid and gone, 
 and two is dead. You no I always did like children 
 " the more the merrier," is my motter, and his aint' 
 bad ones. He's got dark skin, and black eyes. We 
 will get marrid in October, and make our weddin' tower 
 comin' home. I want to get you to be at my house 
 to reseave us — like ; you and Capt. Lemuir, and have 
 everything fixed up all right. You are sech an elegant 
 hand at fixing up. Farm and Mr. Crook sends their 
 love, I will close, asking you to look over all mistakes, 
 and hopin' to have an early letter from you soon, and 
 hear your remarks from Ridley Farm, to old Cheowah- 
 town. 
 
 " Your true friend, 
 
 " Eliza Pryor." 
 
 Noisette Miln travelled with her father to the 
 
 city of W , there taking a branch-road, w^hich 
 
 she left at the station nearest Mrs. Newsome's. 
 Here she hired a conveyance and arrived at 1 1 A. M. 
 She sent in her card on which she had pencilled 
 a few words of explanation, and her heart fairly 
 warmed when Mrs. Newsome hurried to meet her 
 and took her in her arms with a most motherly 
 embrace. 
 
 " My dear child," she said, " how good of you 
 to come to see me ; this is next to seeing my 
 little sister. Come right into the house and have 
 some cool water from the spring." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 139 
 
 Then, seeing Zetta glance at the driver, she 
 pointed out the horse-lot to him, and bade him 
 take his horses there, and she would send one of 
 the children with the keys so that he could feed 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. Dorsey stood on the porch and greeted 
 the visitor in her easy, thoroughbred way. 
 
 " Have you had a letter from Vivia in regard to 
 my coming ? " asked Zetta, in some doubt as to 
 whether she could ask this sweetly kind woman 
 to give up one who might be very useful to her. 
 
 " One came last night, and she urges me to let 
 you have Ortemissy. Of course ' Missy ' is not 
 mine to give, but then she is npbody's, as I may 
 say, for her father has been gone a long time, and 
 it will be the best thing for her to go where she can 
 never see him more. He is a miserable drunkard. 
 Still I would rather not force her to go. I will 
 let her decide for herself after she has seen you. 
 I am fond of her, and it will be a wrench to part 
 from her, and the baby is wrapped up in her ; but 
 I could not let that interfere with her best in- 
 terests. So saying Mrs. Newsome left Mrs. Dor- 
 sey to entertain the guest. Ere long she re- 
 entered the parlor, followed by the hare-lipped 
 girl with the baby in her arms — the latter a brown- 
 eyed little creature with a look so winsome that 
 Zetta was instantly possessed by a desire to cuddle 
 her; and, with outstretched hands, she wooed 
 little Nell till she came to her. arms and suffered 
 herself to be kissed and adored. " O you lovely 
 
I40 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 baby ! ' ' cooed Zetta, pressing her lips to the 
 gazelle eyes and the fluffy golden curls. " O, Mrs. 
 Newsome ! she is dainty down to her perfect tiny 
 feet." 
 
 The embryo artist was almost as bashful as 
 the baby, but her intending friend was enchanted 
 with her chinquapin brown eyes, glancing coyly 
 from under curly dark lashes, and the rings 
 of brown hair clustering about her forehead and 
 white neck. Only her mouth, distorted by a 
 hare-lip, prevented her from being a beauty. She 
 blushed vividly when Zetta talked to her, telling 
 •her her plans, to which, after a slight hesitation, 
 she consented. 
 
 The matter being thus decided, she went swiftly 
 out in answer to a word from Mrs. Newsome, and 
 brought in a waiter of rosy cheeked apples and a 
 plate of purple figs. After eating some of each, 
 Zetta declared they surpassed anything of their 
 kind in Arkansas. 
 
 " Our figs are small and insipid, and all I have 
 ever seen were of a pale, yellow color. Papa says 
 figs and sugar-cane are the only two products of 
 the South that we cannot equal in our sec- 
 tion." 
 
 " I must give you huckleberry pie for dinner," 
 said Mrs. Newsome, " for Vivia wrote me there 
 are no huckleberries in the woods out there." 
 
 " Thank you ; I will like that." 
 
 " Mrs. Newsome and I often go huckleberrying," 
 observed Mrs. Dorsey. " We ride the mules 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 141 
 
 because the bushes grow in marshy spots near 
 springs and branches, and we are afraid of getting 
 our feet wet, and also of encountering snakes. 
 We have canned quantities this summer, for they 
 make as good pies as those newly gathered." 
 
 " You have wild flowers, too, that we have not. 
 Vivia is enthusiastic about one that blooms in 
 May in clusters, the petals pink and the stems 
 maroon, so that they look as if speckled with 
 brown." 
 
 "Yes, we call it ivy, but I doubt that's being 
 its true name. Anyway, the time of its bloom- 
 ing begins the picnic season, and the boys and 
 girls have rare sport gathering huckleberries. It's 
 a saying that ' Sandhill people turn their children 
 out in the huckleberry slashes to pick a living, 
 and bell one to keep the flock from getting lost.' 
 Truth, too, for berries bring ten cents a quart, 
 and most people are glad of the help in our poor 
 country." 
 
 " But," said Zetta, " I have heard papa say it's 
 the land of good living, and I'm sure your deli- 
 cious fruit looks like it. What do you think, Mrs. 
 Dorsey ? " 
 
 "Oh! I'm very fond of the Pineland. It is a 
 magnificent fruit country, and has evidently 
 started on a new era of prosperity. I fancy 
 Mrs. Newsome has a mine of wealth in her pear 
 orchard. She is quite an adept at budding and 
 grafting, and I would like you to see a pear tree 
 that now has six varieties on the same stalk, ripen- 
 
142 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS, 
 
 ing, from as many buds put in by Mrs. Newsome. 
 It was an old tree that she had transplanted." 
 
 " I consider good fruit one of the necessaries of 
 healthy life," said Mrs. Newsome. " We have 
 shipped some this year, and I am confident that 
 it will pay better than anything else that we can 
 raise. Our poor lands don't suit cotton, and are 
 too rolling to retain fertilizers. But these same 
 poor hillsides produce the finest peaches, pears, 
 and apples, and are scarcely ever affected by 
 frost. Fruit growing and fruit canning will be 
 the industries of the future." 
 
 " I only wish it was one of the industries of Ar- 
 kansas," said Zetta; " people care for cotton there to 
 the exclusion of everything else. I heard Cousin 
 Arthur say he let his renters cut down the only 
 apple orchard on the place, because they com- 
 plained that the trees took up ground they wanted 
 for cotton. Mrs. Newsome, I heard Vivia speak 
 of a Mrs. Wilde who was in this country from 
 South America ; where is she ? " 
 
 " She has gone to Saratoga. She is a speci- 
 men of a real society woman ; the only one we 
 ever had about here." So saying Mrs. Newsome 
 left the parlor to attend to outside matters. 
 
 She at once wrote and dispatched a note by 
 her boy, Jeff, to Mr. Calhoun Logan, asking him 
 " to come to dinner to meet Miss Miln from Ar- 
 kansas, a charming person, in whom he might find 
 his ideal of womanly perfection." 
 
 Then, having donned her cooking-apron, Mrs. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 143 
 
 Newsome went to work to get dinner, assisted 
 by Ortemissy, who performed her duties deftly, 
 though her eyes were red, and she ever and anon 
 broke into a fresh burst of tears at the idea of 
 leaving Mrs. Newsome and little Nell, the baby 
 she had nursed. 
 
 Aunt Nancy Green, with whom her nephew 
 Calhoun resided, did not live very far from Mrs. 
 Newsome's, and so, before Sister Mary was ready 
 to announce dinner, that gentleman made his ap- 
 pearance in the cottage parlor, bowing stiffly as 
 Mrs. Dorsey introduced him. He was a tall, slim 
 man, very neat in his dress, very slow and delib- 
 erate in his motions, and evidently enjoying a 
 high opinion of himself. He was almost inquisi- 
 tive, it seemed to Zetta, in his manner of asking 
 questions. In writing a description of the visit 
 to Vivia, she alluded to Mr. Logan's part in her 
 entertainment as " a pumping process scientifically 
 performed. I assure you, Vivia, when he got 
 through with me, I felt as if my head were a 
 vacuum." But this clear-sighted young lady 
 observed " that Mr. Logan did not get the better 
 of Mrs. Dorsey in the conversation as he did of 
 her. Those sweet, thoughtful, yet mirthful eyes 
 of Laura's seemed to have the power of control- 
 ling his predominating curiosity, or satisfying it 
 without words." 
 
 After hearing so much about the poverty of 
 the country, and seeing indications of it in Mrs. 
 Newsgme's humble house, the dinn^f was really 
 
144 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 a surprise to Zetta. The table was draped in 
 spotless old damask, whose beauty was not 
 marred by the frequent dainty darning, as won- 
 derful, Zetta thought, as lace-work. She quite 
 longed to ask Sister Mary if she had done it her- 
 self, but after the smarting of Mr. Logan's recent 
 questionings, she could not bring herself to ask. 
 In the centre of the table was a peculiar and 
 handsome vase — a Psyche, holding in her hand a 
 lily from whose cup trailed smilax and star jessa- 
 mine, small, four-petalled flowers of delicious fra- 
 grance. By each plate was a boutonniere of tube- 
 roses and apple geranium. An old-fashioned 
 silver basket contained purple Thomas grapes, 
 and yellow Indian peaches, interspersed with nas- 
 turtiums, bronze and flame-colored. There were 
 dishes of snowy rice, cooked in the true south- 
 ern style, a dish piled full of blue bream, which 
 Mr. Newsome had opportunely brought in 
 just as his wife set about getting dinner, light 
 bread and butter, baked chicken, Irish potatoes 
 in a flaky, puffy mass, the result of judicious toss- 
 ing with a fork; a mould of wild-plum jelly in 
 the shape of an ear of corn, a delicate sponge 
 cake and a boiled custard. This was the menu. 
 The service was of dainty china, and Ortemissy 
 waited on the table as silently and perfectly 
 as Zetta remembered the stately black butler at 
 home to have done, while Mrs. Newsome presided 
 with a grace that would have become a duchess. 
 Mr. Newsome, too, was a very affable and hospi- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 143 
 
 table host, full of jokes, and Mrs. Dorsey's pun- 
 gent and original remarks gave the conversation 
 a flavor that Zetta found exceedingly pleasant ; 
 while the spontaneity of wit and good-will all 
 around was captivating. Mr. Calhoun Logan, in 
 assisting at the courtesies of the table, showed 
 his most attractive side. Zetta discovered he 
 had a beautiful smile, and even said to herself, 
 " Little as these folks suspect it, that man is in 
 love with Mrs. Dorsey." 
 
 After dinner there was great stirring around in 
 the family, everybody lending a hand to get 
 a trunk packed for the little traveller, and both 
 Mrs. Newsome and Mrs. Dorsey contributing of 
 their possessions with a liberal hand, although 
 Zetta assured them that she would gladly pro- 
 vide whatever she needed when they reached 
 New York. 
 
 Good-byes were said, after strict promises to 
 keep up a correspondence, Zetta agreeing to 
 write herself and see to it that Missy should keep 
 Mrs. Newsome informed as to her movements. 
 
146 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 It was in the latter part of August that Vivia 
 had a note from Eva Snow, asking her to go to a 
 picnic at Lost Lake, and to meet them at the sta- 
 tion next morning by 6:30 o'clock. That night 
 she could not sleep. There was a conflict going 
 on in her mind which dated back to the time 
 when the news first reached her about the yellow 
 fever in Melita. A project then began shaping 
 itself in her busy brain to do something to help 
 those people. 
 
 Her life at Ridley Farm had been a cruel disap- 
 pointment. Mrs. Lemuir had " no use," as she 
 phrased it, " for a dumb thing like Vivia, a girl 
 that couldn't talk worth a cent." Captain Lemuir 
 was disposed to love his sister, but he " was sorry 
 she hadn't been pretty," and he deplored " her 
 sensitive disposition." It was not the hardships 
 of thankless and unintermittent tasks, however, 
 that made Vivia long to go away from Ridley ; 
 she greatly admired that heroic nurse of the 
 Crimea, Florence Nightingale. Was it less heroic 
 to nurse people nearer home, who were also dying, 
 as those soldiers had done, for want of proper 
 nursing ? But Captain Lemuir had agreed with 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 14.7 
 
 his wife, when Mrs. Lemuir had laughed at the 
 " folly " of the women who had already gone 
 there to nurse the sick. Should she go on this 
 " wild-goose chase," as her brother had called it ? 
 Yet Florence Nightingale had gone on just as 
 wild a project, opposed, too, by her friends, and 
 afterwards received the plaudits of a nation, the 
 grand jeweled medal of a grateful queen. Of course 
 she would not get any medal, and might possibly 
 die and be buried in a ditch, as she had heard of 
 plague-stricken people being buried, but God 
 would note her effort all the same. So she 
 prayed and debated in her mind over the ec- 
 centricity of such a step, the talk it would make, 
 and her brother's vexation. The pros and cons 
 so tried her heart that it seemed to her her very 
 being was poured out in a flood of tears and 
 prayers. Suddenly the sense of some words in a 
 newspaper " poetry corner " came to her memory: 
 
 " 'Tis the toil and not the burden, 
 That shall win the precious guerdon, 
 
 'Tis the spirit, not the fruit, thy Lord perceives ; 
 Whoso faithfully hath striven. 
 Unto him the crown is given, 
 Though his gleanings only yield him scanty sheaves.'' 
 
 Her strife with herself ended in a resolve to go, 
 and a resolve, also — alas ! poor Vivia, to go with- 
 out telling any one of her intention. She did 
 not dare let her brother suspect it, and yet if she 
 went away under false pretences she felt she could 
 never come back ; she could never again face this 
 
14$ BEHOLDING A!S iN A GLASS. 
 
 brother, beloved, whose congenial mind, benevo- 
 lent heart and sweet manner so strongly attracted 
 and charmed her, repelled however much she 
 might be by his peculiar ideas and beliefs in 
 religious matters. Yet how could she resist this 
 strong yearning to go, and even, if heaven willed 
 it, lay down her life for the people ? The papers 
 were teeming with accounts of the increasing rav- 
 ages of the " yellow death," people were already 
 dying by the hundreds, and there was a terrible 
 lack of nurses. A long and eloquent appeal for 
 help in the Melita " Herald " had taken strong 
 hold of her fancy, and, as it were, impressed itself 
 on the camera of her brain in flaming photographs. 
 As if to emphasize these she opened a little book 
 very dear to her and read : " It is only with re- 
 nunc.r.tion that life, properly speaking, begins. 
 There is in man a higher than happiness — it is 
 blessedness." Was it not to preach this same 
 higher that sages and martyrs, the poet and the 
 priest in all times have spoken and suffered, bear- 
 ing testimony through life and through death of 
 the God-like that is in man, and how in the God- 
 like only has he strength and freedom ? 
 
 Her brother's philosophy, frequently enunciated 
 with weighty assurance, had not overturned her 
 faith, but had instilled doubts, and made her appear 
 to herself as drifting without anchor; and now she 
 accused herself, and acknowledged in her prayers 
 for help that though she had not, like Peter, 
 denied the Lord, nor yet as Judas betrayed Him, 
 
JSEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 149 
 
 she had grown " lukewarm and listened to doubt- 
 ful disputations." Was not this her opportunity 
 to atone for her backsliding, to lay down her life 
 for others ? She had a talent for nursing, that 
 she knew well ; and now if she went away to 
 Melita and nursed the sick, she might yet 
 regain her undoubting faith and be saved ; for 
 did not Christ say, " to her who loved much, 
 much was forgiven ? " For this she had come 
 into the world, not as she once fancied, to write 
 a grand, soulful book, a book that should speak 
 to many minds — ^this her chosen service as high 
 priestess in the temple of nature, interpreting 
 through her great love nature's beatitudes, nat- 
 ure's prophecies. No, this blessing was not to 
 be hers ; but rather as an humble acolyte, swing- 
 ing the censer of a pitying service about the beds 
 of the sick and dying, she might, with her soft 
 touch and deft skill in the sick-room, save from 
 death some one who would, perchance, do the 
 work she had fancied was to be hers when she 
 should be dust. 
 
 Her ideas were shaped into a feasible plan by 
 Eva's note, which she speedily, and without excit- 
 ing suspicion, put into execution. She agreed to 
 go to the picnic, and by previous arrangement in 
 the family she started to the depot on the ap- 
 pointed morning before either Captain Lemuir or 
 his wife were up, (they usually breakfasted at 
 nine or ten o'clock), and was driven to the rendez- 
 vous by Lambmy, on whose half idiot little germ of 
 
ISO BEHOLOmd AS m A GLASi. 
 
 a mind her large valise made no impression. 
 Neither did any one notice the valise when she 
 stepped on the train, one of the gentlemen, George 
 Elmore, a stranger to her, assisting her on board. 
 
 The lake was in sight of the depot at which 
 the picnickers disembarked, and was indeed a beau- 
 tiful feature in the landscape, with its blue waters 
 girdled around with swamp alders and willows. 
 A large frame eating-house, in whose uncarpeted 
 parlor the party were to dance, and at whose 
 generous board they were to enjoy a fish-dinner, 
 stood close by the railroad track. One could 
 step from the hotel piazza on to the train. The 
 crowd sauntered in couples to the lake, and more 
 than one gentleman proffered his escort to Vivia, 
 but she declined on the plea of a headache. 
 
 Eva Snow, who liked her for Zetta's sake, re- 
 mained with her, and they sat on the piazza till the 
 accommodation train came along, when Vivia, sud- 
 denly picking up her valise, thrust a letter into 
 Eva's hand, saying " Good-bye," and before the 
 astonished girl could speak was boarding the train, 
 which made only the briefest stop there, and in 
 a moment was thundering away. Eva looked 
 after her in consternation, then glanced at the 
 letter; she saw it was directed to Captain Lemuir, 
 and with her mind very much upset, went down 
 to the lake to tell her friends what had occurred. 
 There were many surmises, somebody hazarding 
 that " Miss Lemuir had run away to be married.' 
 But no one guessed the truth. 
 
bE HOLDING AS m A GLASS. 15! 
 
 Meantime Vivia, borne on her journey, reached 
 Lawson's Junction, where she changed cars, after 
 a wearisome and unexpected detention. She had 
 thought to reach the city by three o'clock, but it 
 was dusk when she arrived. She found herself in 
 so nervous a state that she barely had self-com- 
 mand enough to ask the way to the headquarters 
 of the Howard Association. As she gave her 
 name to the red-faced, anxious-eyed, elderly man 
 who came towards her, he said : " Why, what on 
 earth did you come here for ? Great God ! don't you 
 know you'll die with the fever? Every one's 
 taking it, and dying with it, dying, dying ! And 
 a little hop-o-my-thumb like you ! why, what pos- 
 sessed you ? " 
 
 " I came to nurse the sick," said Vivia. " I un- 
 derstand nursing very well, and though I am small 
 (drawing up her little figure with dignity), I have 
 very good health and am stronger than some 
 women who are larger. I thought you were very 
 much in need of nurses." 
 
 " Good Lord ! In need of them ? I should say 
 we were. I was only thinking about you ! You 
 don't look strong enough for such work, and I'm 
 afraid you wouldn't stand it if you took the fever." 
 
 " I don't suppose I shall take it for nine days ; 
 I can do a good deal of nursing in that time, and 
 I hope you won't turn me off because I'm small." 
 The girl's eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Certainly not, child, no fear of that, but oh ! 
 how foolish of you to come ! Why, I sent my 
 
ijz BEMOLbWG AS W A GLASJS. 
 
 daughters to Cat-Back Mountain three weeks ago, 
 and most everybody's left the city that could ; 
 but there's lots and crowds here yet, especially the 
 poor devils that live in the shanty part of the town. 
 Why, some of them die and we find it out by the 
 stench, and lots of people are sick with nobody to 
 give them a drink of water or a dose of medicine. 
 Let me look on the bulletin and see where you 
 are most needed. Ah ! this is the very place for 
 you, if you are determined to stay in this plague- 
 stricken city." 
 
 " I certainly shall stay, sir." 
 
 " Very well. Mrs. Eleanorjohnson wants a nurse 
 for her mother. Now what under the canopy 
 made those rich people stay in town ? O ! I rec- 
 ollect; the old lady got a fall and couldn't be 
 moved, and they have so much confidence in Dr. 
 Evans. I reckon they think he can cure the 
 yellow fever as easy as a common cold. Well, 
 young lady," said the ' Howard,' putting on his hat, 
 " is this all your baggage ? " picking up the valise. 
 " Come, I'll show you the way to Mrs. Gilder- 
 sleeve's." 
 
 Now that Vivia had somewhat recovered from 
 her first confusion and terror, she looked around her 
 with interest and awe. This was Broad Street, the 
 " Howard " told her, a magnificent, wide thorough- 
 fare, well paved, and with large, splendid business 
 houses towering on either side. How the white 
 marble fronts shone in the moonlight, and how 
 beautiful was the little square they were passing. 
 
'BEHOLDING AS tN A gIasS. 15^ 
 
 set thick with magnolias in the heart of the city ! 
 But oh ! the ghostliness of the forsaken places ! the 
 terrible loneliness of deserted streets ! There was 
 the fountain playing and shimmering among the 
 magnolias, and a mocking-bird singing there 
 sweetly, thrillingly ; but their footsteps sounded 
 hollow in the empty thoroughfare, and from one 
 place came a dull hammering, the cofifin-makers, 
 the " Howard " said. His supply of fine cofifins had 
 given out and " they had to be made now, mighty 
 rough ones at that." 
 
 He continued : " Mr. Mullin and all his family 
 have something to do with the dead. His son 
 is in charge of our city cemetery, as pretty a 
 one as you would wish to see, and his daughter 
 did see to laying out people, on reasonable terms." 
 
 " Did they charge for it ? " asked Vivia, in a tone 
 of surprise. 
 
 " Indeed they did, and ought to have charged, 
 too. Why, nobody could beat Miss Letty Mullin 
 laying out folks : she was a perfect artist, made 
 people look better dead than when they were 
 alive ; but she died, poor thing, last Friday night, 
 and three of her sisters have died since. The old 
 man tries to hold up his head, and works day and 
 night to make cofifins, but I don't know how long 
 he will stand it." 
 
 The awful stillness of the street was broken by 
 the creaking of wheels. " What is that ? " asked 
 Vivia, as a wagon was driven by, a black man 
 sitting on top of a pile of long, narrow, unpainted 
 
IS 4 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 wooden boxes. He said " Go 'long," as he passed 
 them, and the air was filled with a deadly odor. 
 
 " O ! that's the dead wagon. It's the best we 
 can do for most of them. Sometimes the bodies 
 fester before they can be buried, and others are 
 laid out of doors in coiifins to wait until the dead 
 wagon comes along. From one house three 
 children were put in one box. Some days we've 
 had to press every empty wagon that appeared 
 on the street into service, in order to get the dead 
 carried off." 
 
 While he spoke they turned into Green Street, 
 where were some of the finest residences in the 
 city. The moonlight played in shimmering bright- 
 ness on the slate roofs, lingered lovingly on the 
 roses in the gardens, and the city in its preter- 
 natural quiet, seemed sweetly sleeping. 
 
 " The greatest nuisance," said the '' Howard," 
 " are the lazy, good-for-nothing niggers who lie 
 around here to get rations. Why, they won't 
 budge. Just out of town the fields are white 
 with cotton, but these lazy dogs can't be induced 
 to stir themselves to pick a lock. They all have 
 the notion that niggers can't have yellow fever ; 
 but I think it will be knocked out of their stupid 
 pates before much longer. They've begun dying 
 already. This morning Mr. Smith, at the Gregory 
 House, sent for me and told me that three black 
 men were dead in a shanty bar-room in ' No Man's 
 Alley,' and wouldn't I have them buried ? While 
 I was on my way to arrange it, I heard somebody 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 155 
 
 say, ' O my God ! ' I went into the house where 
 the cry came from, and there lay a little girl, 
 yellow as a pumpkin, black vomit staining her 
 hands and face. Another younger child was 
 lying on the bed ia a stupor, and their mother 
 was down on the floor, calling on God for help. 
 I gave what help I could, sent a nurse to them, 
 and then went to ' No Man's Alley,' to see after 
 the colored men. It was an awful sight ! One 
 of them lay dead on a pallet, congealed blood 
 oozing from his mouth, his teeth clenched and 
 his eyes protruding from their sockets." 
 " O ! " said Vivia, " how ghastly ! " 
 " O don't get scared yet," said the " Howard," 
 with a low chuckle, " wait till you see for your- 
 self." 
 
 Vivia looked at him inquiringly, wonderingly. 
 He was a medium-sized man with a large head, 
 getting a Httle bald above the forehead and top- 
 head, sandy-haired, light-eyed and had a quid of 
 tobacco in his mouth ; a serious, rather stolid 
 face, and might be called ugly by one who looked 
 at the outside only. He wore a very common, 
 dust-colored suit, and walked quickly. Very few 
 would have picked him out as Col. John St. John, 
 one of the most heroic of all the heroic Howards ; 
 a man of great wealth, but whose simplicity of 
 living, unassuming manners and singleness of aim 
 put him in the category with such souls as Lord 
 Nelson, without the ambitious incentive of a 
 place in Westminster Abbey. He was going to 
 
156 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 teach Vivia (along with other exemplars), that 
 deep feeling does not show itself in loud groans 
 and bewailings, and may even be veiled by ex- 
 treme external quietude. 
 
 Of foot-passengers they met a woman with a 
 child in her arms, shivering with the fever chill. 
 She was hunting for the " praste." The " Howard " 
 directed her and she went on ejaculating, " May 
 the Holy Virgin love ye." 
 
 On this stately and beautiful Green Street, 
 with its elegant mansions, rested a deadly calm. 
 Indeed, numbers of the raagnificent houses were 
 closed, the owners having emigrated to the mount- 
 ains. But here and there gleamed lights, and 
 long crape streamers floated from the door-knobs. 
 Little black piles of ashes on the street attracted 
 Vivia's attention. The " Howard " told her it 
 was the bedding;^ and clothing of those who had 
 died of the black vomit, which had been burned 
 by order of the council. " There aren't more than 
 a sixth of our people left in the city," said he. 
 " Of those who didn't go away, who were too poor, 
 we have six hundred at Camp Joe Brownson's. 
 I advised Mrs. Gildersleeve to go, but the poor old 
 lady was obstinate, and Eleanor would not leave 
 her. They are good people. I hope, my child, 
 you will be a Godsend to them. Here we are." 
 
 They stopped in front of a lofty brick stuccoed 
 mansion, recessed from the street, fruit trees 
 and shrubbery being artistically grouped so as 
 to screen the windows yet not interfere with the 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 157 
 
 flower-beds. A fountain threw its silvery spray 
 on the fern-leaves growing at its base, and the air 
 was heavy with the odor of heliotrope and tube- 
 roses. A marble statue of Adonis gleamed from 
 under a magnolia, and a bronze Diana gazed 
 calmly at the moon from the entrance to a beauti- 
 ful arch of Devoniensis roses. A flight of marble 
 steps led up to a broad portico, and on each side 
 of the folding doors were conservatories, through 
 whose crystal enclosures appeared tall, tropical 
 plants. 
 
 " Come right in," said the " Howard," unlock- 
 ing the door with a key he took from his pocket. 
 " We can't stand on ceremony." 
 
 They traversed a passage, went up two short 
 flights of steps, and with a light knock Colonel St. 
 John pushed open the door of a large chamber. 
 Vivia saw an aged lady propped high on the pillows 
 in a great canopied bed. Her venerable face, once 
 fat and full, was now collapsed and corpse-hued. 
 She breathed with considerable difficulty, and took 
 no notice of anything. She was evidently so near 
 leaving this world as to be beyond remembering 
 anything about it. A gentleman was approach- 
 ing the bed with a vial in his hand, and, at the in- 
 stant of their entrance said, " Hold the light 
 Eleanor." He carefully dropped some of the 
 medicine into a spoon, put his arm around the old 
 lady's shoulders, lifted her head and saw that she 
 swallowed it. The sweet face of Mrs. Eleanor 
 Johnson turned to the new comer. 
 
158 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 " I've brought you a nurse, Eleanor," said the 
 " Howard " in low tones. " She's small, but I 
 think she's got grit in her and will do you good." 
 
 The gentleman who had given the medicine 
 looked at Vivia. She glanced in amazement at 
 this stranger, who was no stranger, but Dr. Evans, 
 the companion of her adventurous journey in 
 what now seemed, in the crowding light of so 
 many new experiences, the dim, distant past. 
 
 " How do you do. Miss Lemuir ? Why did you 
 expose yourself to this danger ? You have never 
 had yellow fever, have you ? " he asked harshly. 
 
 " No, sir, I have never had it," she said, shaking 
 hands with Mrs Johnson. 
 
 " Then hadn't you better go back ? You'll be 
 certain to take it." 
 
 " Have you had it ? " asked she,looking at him 
 with her clear, steadfast gaze. 
 
 " No, but I'm acclimated. Its doubly dangerous 
 for you." 
 
 " It is impossible for me to go back. I think I 
 shall be able to help you ; " and she looked appeal- 
 ingly at Eleanor, whose gray eyes softened as she 
 held the girl's trembling hands. 
 
 " I am so thankful to have you, and don't be 
 afraid, dear." 
 
 " There's no question about her being able and 
 willing to help you," said Dr. Evans ; " the foolish- 
 ness of the thing is in your making a martyr of 
 yourself. Miss Lemuir, when there's no occasion 
 to do it," 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 159 
 
 " Did you not tell me, sir," rejoined Vivia, turn- 
 ing to the " Howard," "that you are very short 
 of nurses ? " 
 
 " O, yes, they are scarce . as hens' teeth ; see 
 here. Doctor, there's no use to worry over what 
 can't be helped ; the young lady's here now — a 
 friend of yours, I s'pose. ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented Dr. Evans. 
 
 " Well, being here, and she's got any amount of 
 spunk, she might as well stay and do all she can 
 for those who need it. Tell her what to do, Evans. 
 I must go. Good-night to you all." 
 
 " Charles," said Mrs. Johnson, " stand here by 
 mother, and let me go and show this young lady 
 to a room." 
 
 " O ! " said Vivia impulsively, " I do hope I may 
 be of some use to you !" 
 
 " Certainly you will ; what time did you leave 
 home, dear?" asked Mrs. Johnson, as they ad- 
 vanced along the passage. 
 
 " Early this morning ; please do not scold me 
 when I tell you I came without leave. My father 
 and mother are dead. I'm twenty-two years old, 
 and I did not ask my brother because I knew he 
 wouldn't consent. I can see that Dr. Evans thinks 
 I have acted very wrongly in coming ; but I hope 
 you will not judge me harshly. To be blamed by 
 one's friends is so very painful." The tears ran 
 down Vivia's cheeks. 
 
 "Certainly I don't blame you," said Mrs. 
 Johnson kindly ; " you are as welcome as an 
 
i6o BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 angel. Now, if you will bathe your face and brush 
 your hair, I will get some tea and bread for you, 
 and when you have eaten you can go back with 
 me to poor mother." 
 
 Vivia was only too glad to avail herself of Mrs. 
 Johnson's thoughtful kindness. She speedily 
 made herself more presentable, and hurried down 
 to the dining-room in the basement, where she 
 found her hostess making tea by the help of a 
 spirit lamp. 
 
 " We've no servants," said Mrs. Johnson. " Ours 
 all forsook us except our faithful Maria, who died 
 of the fever two days ago. Since then Charles 
 and I have done everything, but his time is not 
 his own ; he has a great many patients. He stays 
 with us more than he ought." 
 
 " I know he is a noble gentleman," said Vivia. 
 " When I was coming out to Arkansas I became 
 acquainted with him on the train ; we had an 
 accident, and I saw what an expert surgeon he 
 was. I did not know he lived in this city." 
 
 " He has only been located here a few months," 
 replied Mrs. Johnson, "though he had been here 
 before, and was very well known. He was already 
 getting a large practice when the fever broke out. 
 He did everything he could to induce mother to 
 leave, but she had had a fall and couldn't be 
 persuaded. Depopulating the city, he says, is 
 the only way to stamp the fever out. As I 
 couldn't leave mother I sent my little Eddie to 
 my aunt in EUerslie. I feel tolerably easy about 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. i6l 
 
 him, though I miss him unutterably. Dear little 
 fellow ! I can't forget how he looked as the train 
 bore him off. Kissing his little hand he called 
 back, ' Come soon, mamma, come soon.' " 
 
 Mrs. Johnson's voice broke; she sobbed, and 
 Vivia's arms stole around her. In that embrace 
 all sense of being strangers was lost. Soon ' each 
 became composed ; and while Vivia drank a cup 
 of tea and ate some bread and chicken with a 
 keen relish, they opened their hearts to each 
 other. 
 
l63 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Having business in Milnville the day after the 
 picnic at Lost Lake, Captain Lemuir called at 
 General Miln's to take his sister home. Instead 
 of Vivia, Mrs. Miln, redolent of attar of roses, 
 met him with a mysterious air of suppressed ex- 
 citement. She informed him, impressively, that 
 Miss Lemuir had not returned. " Mr. Norwood 
 said " (this with a tinge of asperity in her tone) 
 " that she had acted queerly on arrival at Lost 
 Lake, had refused Teddy's escort to the boats, 
 and while most of the party were absent at the 
 Lake, Miss Snow said she had boarded the train, 
 without even a hint to her as to what she was 
 going to do. How very strange. Captain Lemuir ! 
 Do you think she intended to go baCk where she 
 came from, or to overtake Zetta and General 
 Miln ? " 
 
 " I'm quite sure she did nothing of the kind," 
 said Captain Lemuir, deathly pale at his lips. 
 " Did she leave no message for me ? " 
 
 " Yes, here's a letter." 
 
 " Mrs. Miln let it leave her hand reluctantly, 
 scanning the gentleman's face while he glanced 
 
SbhoLding As iJv a glass. 163 
 
 at it. There were only a few lines inside the 
 sealed envelope, as follows : 
 
 "Lost Lake, Aug. 29, 18 — . 
 " Dearest Brother : I cannot believe I am of my 
 own free will saying farewell forever to you, yet so I 
 probably am, for I am going to the city of Melita to 
 offer my services to the " Howards " to nurse the yel- 
 low-fever sick. I have adopted this plan of going 
 away, knowing you would never consent ; yet of what 
 I suffer in so doing I cannot give you an idea. Forgive 
 me, brother. Try not to blame me. We forgive the 
 dying. I suppose I am the same as dying. I enclose 
 my trunk key. If I survive — but, no ; it is useless to 
 plan ahead. Your loving sister, 
 
 " ViviA Lemuir." 
 
 Reading these hastily-pencilled lines. Captain 
 Lemuir, the serene, self-contained philosopher, 
 staggered and caught at a chair for support ; but 
 seeing, even in that supreme moment, the peer- 
 ing, inquisitive eyes, he said in a perfectly conven- 
 tional voice : 
 
 " My sister has gone to Melita to nurse the 
 yellow-fever sufferers. She went as she did know- 
 ing I would not consent. Good-morning, madam." 
 
 Passing out with quick, unequal strides, he got 
 into his buggy and drove away, " looking like a 
 man who had been shot," as Mrs. Miln impress- 
 ively informed her next caller. What he suffered 
 he never expressed in words, for he was one from 
 whom pain could not extort a cry ; yet under his 
 
164 BEHOLome AS Itf A GLASS. 
 
 calm exterior beat a heart that agonized like a 
 chained giant under torture ; a Prometheus under 
 the vulture's beak. During the long drive back 
 home one thought possessed him, the loss of her 
 who had twined herself into every fibre of his 
 heart, the sympathetic, loving, unselfish sister, 
 who did not herself suspect how much comfort 
 she gave him, by entering into his feelings and 
 ministering to his comfort. And now rose before 
 him the fever fiend, as a yellow and foul-smelling 
 presence, making the very airs of heaven a burden, 
 scorching the hands that fancy saw held out for 
 succor. O ! the intolerable, indescribable anguish 
 of the yellow death ! 
 
 She would die — of course she would die. What 
 could save that slight, fragile form from perishing 
 in the clutches of such a monster ? 
 
 O ! how his soul rose up in arms against this 
 cruel dispensation of Providence, as he mentally 
 called it, in bitter derision ; an untimely grave, 
 a sweet, promising young life cut short, all for a 
 Quixotic idea of doing good, forsooth ! In the 
 solitude of the lonely road big sobs shook him, as 
 the whirlwind shakes the heart of the oak in the 
 forest. 
 
 " Where is Vivia ? " asked his wife, in a cold and 
 scornful tone, as Captain Lemuir entered the sit- 
 ting-room. 
 
 " She hasn't come," he replied, taking up a paper 
 and sitting down as if to read. 
 
 " She hasn't ? and why not, I'd hke to know ? It 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 165 
 
 will bore Celia and Elma to death to have her on 
 their hands, and they jusf getting ready to be off 
 for the summer. Aunt Henrietta don't want her. 
 I'm sure they all just endure her pretty piety and 
 sweet sanctity because Zetta's so wrapped in her. 
 Why in the world didn't you insist on her coming 
 home ? " 
 
 " I haven't seen her," said Captain Lemuir, not 
 raising his eyes from his paper. 
 
 " Haven't seen her ? Well, that beats me ! 
 What kind of a jackanapes are you, anyway, to 
 go expressly after the girl and come back without 
 seeing her ? There never was a man in the world 
 with such aggravating, mulish ways. I wish you 
 were dead and myself too. It's enough to make 
 a woman swear, I declare. I tell you I'm getting 
 tired of that ' sweet sister ' of yours. I think she is 
 awfully sly and undermining, with her journals, 
 and her letters, and her writing, and her reading, 
 and her private interviews ; and I wish you'd send 
 her back where she came from." 
 
 " I won't hear her abused," exclaimed Captain 
 Lemuir, springing to his feet, his eyes emitting 
 angry flashes : " I'll leave you and your ' place ' 
 forever ; you can hunt another ' agent ' for your 
 property, madam. My sister has gone to Me- 
 lita to nurse the yellow fever sufferers, and I'll go 
 too. I had just as lief throw away my life as not. 
 I live in torment. If I die with the fever I can't 
 go to a worse place than this." 
 
 These few words, couched in such awfully 
 
l66 BEBOLDtNG AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 strong language, had the effect of bringing Mrs. 
 Lemuir into her calculating, strong common-sense 
 state of mind. She argued to herself that her 
 captain was a very kind and not very trouble- 
 some husband for the most part, and for him to 
 run off as well as his sister, in this Quixotic fashion 
 and leave her a grass widow, would be rather 
 ridiculously sensational. No ! no ! this must be 
 nippe'd in the bud. She therefore rose and fol- 
 lowed the captain, whose rapid steps had taken 
 him to the stables, where she found him putting 
 the saddle on Black Bess. She ran up to him, and 
 taking hold of his hands cried loudly, and begged 
 him to " quit such foolishness ; " he was breaking 
 her heart ; had he no regard for his good name ? 
 no feeling for his children ? She hadn't meant 
 what she said, she had only been vexed and let 
 her temper get the better of her, and she would 
 be too glad if he would telegraph to Vivia, or, if 
 that couldn't be done in the present state of quar- 
 antine, write to her, and send her money to pay 
 her expenses home and persuade her to come back. 
 It was a difficult job, but the captain yielded at 
 last, when his wife went so far as to praise Vivia, 
 and say she " did not know what she'd do without 
 her, she was such a help about the house and so 
 good to the children." 
 
 " And so good to me," said Arthur earnestly. 
 " If God ever let one of His angels come down to 
 this earth for a little while, to raise a man above 
 sordidness and selfishness, my little sister was that 
 
BEHOLDING AS W A GLASS. 167 
 
 one. I shall try to be a better man, wife, if you 
 will only help me get her back." 
 
 A telegram being out of the question, as all the 
 operators had left or died of the fever, a letter was 
 written which, as was customary. Captain Lemuir 
 submitted to Mrs. Lemuir's criticism. She sug- 
 gested various changes, and the letter as finally sent 
 scarcely resembled the original at all. It ran as 
 follows : 
 
 "Cheowah, p. O., Sept. 2d, 18 — 
 " My dear Sister : — 
 
 " I cannot find words to convey to you the full ex- 
 tent of my grief and annoyance at die imprudent step 
 you have taken. I suppose you did not consider the 
 gossip you would excite by behaving in such a Quixotic 
 style. It is our duty, sister, while we live in this world, 
 to respect the world's opinion ; and if we would have 
 the current of our lives glide smoothly, not to run 
 counter to the world's prejudices. Now for a girl to 
 leave home without warning, without preparation, with- 
 out an escort, and set, out upon such a crusade as you 
 have, is, to use the very mildest term, foolishly roman- 
 tic. Of course everybody is talking about your strange 
 conduct, and I am mortified by questions as to what in- 
 duced you to go, or, as rough people put it, " Cappen, 
 what made your sister run away ? " and they sting like 
 nettles. Think how distressed Mary will be ! I en- 
 close thirty dollars, and send this letter by hand to Mor- 
 rill's farm, whence the mail-carrier, who passes there 
 three times a week, will convey it to Melita. I wish 
 you to come home immediately ; but be sure you use all 
 disinfectants. As the trains are not running you will 
 
1 68 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 have to use a conveyance through the country, which I 
 think you can easily do with thirty dollars, as it is only 
 four hours' drive. You must disembark at Lamb's 
 cabin where I will have old Maum Becky receive you. 
 I will have to quarantine you for nine days. Wife says 
 Becky has nursed yellow fever and is not afraid of it. 
 Wife at first thought you had best come out to Dr. John- 
 son's Infirmary, but I will be better satisfied if you are 
 in reach where I can see to you myself in case you take 
 the fever. We will have your trunk sent to the cabin and 
 furnish it comfortably for you. 
 
 "Your affectionate brother, 
 
 "Arthur Lemuir." 
 
Beholding as m a glass. 169 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 When Mrs. Johnson and Vivia returned to the 
 sick chamber, Doctor Evans glanced at his watch, 
 gave some concise directions, and saying he 
 would return at midnight, retired. Vivia pro- 
 ceeded, with a gentleness of touch, to sponge the 
 face, neck and hands of the sufferer, whose stupor 
 continued for many hours, yet she would arouse 
 sufficiently to swallow the contents of the spoon 
 placed between her lips. 
 
 After long intervals of silence Mrs. Johnson 
 sometimes talked a little ; then her pent-up grief 
 would find relief in the tears that silently flowed 
 down her cheeks. Dr. Evans, on his return, ob- 
 served no change in the condition of his patient, 
 and insisted that Eleanor should go into an ad- 
 joining room, and seek some repose. 
 
 " You have had no sleep for three nights ; why 
 should you kill yourself ? " he said rather 
 harshly. " I will lie down on the lounge by^ the 
 window and Miss Lemuir will wake me in ' two 
 hours." 
 
 Vivia added her entreaty, and Mrs. Johnson 
 went out. Dr. Evans was asleep by the time he 
 
176 SEHOLbiNG AS tM A CLASS. 
 
 assumed a reclining position, and Vivia, with a 
 mind full of profound thought, was neither lonely 
 nor frightened, but addressed herself assiduously 
 to the duty of keeping her patient as comfortable 
 as she possibly could. Dr. Evans awoke, exam- 
 ined Mrs. Gildersleeve, and whispering to Vivia 
 that "there. was little change,'' went off to an- 
 other patient. 
 
 So another morning found the sweet old soul 
 hovering on the confines of this world. She 
 roused into something like intelligence when 
 Eleanor brought her some coffee. She lived for 
 two days, and died the third night at one o'clock. 
 A click in the throat, then the setting of the lips, 
 indicated the stoppage of the breath. Eleanor, 
 with the utmost quietness, performed the last 
 offices, assisted by Vivia, the girl's touch as ten- 
 der and reverential as the daughter's own. No 
 stranger hands desecrated with indifferent hand- 
 ling that beloved form. 
 
 Dr. Evans and her pastor. Dr. Luke Parsons, a 
 strong, noble, manly and Christlike man, placed 
 her in her cofifin. Dr. Parsons recited the burial 
 service over the body where it lay, made a touch- 
 ing prayer, and he and Dr. Evans saw it put to 
 rest in beautiful " Oakwood Cemetery." 
 
 Vivia remained with Mrs. Johnson, assisting 
 her to pack up and secure the house and get 
 ready as speedily as possible to leave the city, 
 which she did the next morning by private con- 
 veyance, intending to go to Camp Perry, and in 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 171 
 
 nine days to Cat-Back Mountain, to join her 
 little Eddie and other relatives there. 
 
 Vivia received her brother's letter, but its tone 
 had the effect of making her more resolved to 
 stay on and do or die in the task she had set her- 
 self. She wrote a few lines describing her expe- 
 riences, Mrs. Gildersleeve's death, and mention- 
 ing that the editor of the " Messenger " had just 
 been attacked and she was engaged to nurse him. 
 The thirty dollars she returned in her letter. 
 
 It was a most dehghtfully satisfactory solution 
 of the problematic situation to Mrs. Lemuir, and 
 gave her material for endless gossip and com- 
 ment. She had always known the Gildersleeves 
 by reputation. She knew they were very rich 
 and very highly thought of, that Mrs. Johnson 
 was their only daughter, and they had just lav- 
 ished everything on her. She married a Dr. 
 Johnson, who went to Virginia just before the 
 war ended, and was killed at Petersburg. She 
 was one widow no one ever accused of wanting to 
 marry again. " Pretty too," said Mrs. Lemuir. 
 " I've seen her driving several times when I've 
 been in Melita. Her crape was always the same 
 depth. And she seemed wrapped up in her 
 boy." 
 
 The " Howard " came to conduct Vivia to the 
 hospital, where the editor of the " Messenger," 
 Colonel Loper, lay ill. It was as long a walk as the 
 memorable one on the night of her arrival, but 
 this time happened to be a fresh and dewy morn- 
 
172 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 ing, contrasting with the great city's agony like 
 a red rose with the pallor of a corpse. 
 
 " Well," said Vivia's guide, " you begin to think 
 you know all about yellow fever, don't you ? " 
 
 " O no, indeed ! I wish you would tell me your 
 ideas of it, and give me notions about nursing it." 
 
 " Generally, you know, it comes on with a chill ; 
 sometimes it is a dumb chill ; no shaking and no 
 outward cold except one hand or foot. There is 
 terrible pain in the back and head, and the pa- 
 tient complains that he is ' dead tired.' The face 
 looks blotched with purple, and soon the skin is 
 a dirty yellow like a pumpkin. A little later on 
 I've seen 'em against white plastered walls as 
 clear yellow as an orange. Directly your patient 
 is sick at the stomach, and throws up something 
 that looks like coffee-grounds. The pulse gets 
 faster till you can't count it, the temperature is 
 way up yonder. After awhile he'll throw up stuff 
 as black as the chimney back; it will coat the 
 tongue and te^th as thick as a knife-blade. You 
 can wipe it off a1|d he will look at it curiously. He 
 is yet in his s«^lfes. Later on there will be a col- 
 lapse, a shrunken look on his face and body, pulse 
 weak, a cold clamminess over the body, pinched 
 nostrils, purple lips and a deep stupor. There 
 may be a reaction, the skin changing to white 
 again, and even a return of intelligence and the 
 ability to eat a little food and retain it. As the 
 day goes on he gets restless, inclines to talk, has 
 another rigor, fever rises again, he becomes deli- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 173 
 
 rious, may need to be kept in bed by force, will 
 probably die before midnight, or between that 
 and dawn. You will have lots of sponging to do, 
 sometimes with vinegar, sometimes with water, 
 hot or cold, as the doctor tells you ; and you 
 will have to give mustard foot-baths, keep your 
 patient covered, sponge his head with ice, and put 
 cracked ice in his mouth to palliate the intoler- 
 able, consuming thirst. Do, pray, my dear young 
 lady, do your everlasting best for poor Colonel 
 Loper. Your best is no poor best either, if Dr. 
 Evans speaks truth. He praises you to the skies, 
 and I believe him. 
 
 " Colonel Loper is the greatest man in this town, 
 and I love him better than any man I know. Now 
 don't you get scared because he is a rough 
 customer. He may blurt out an oath at you 
 now and then ; he's no carpet-knight. He ain't 
 one of the kind that flirts with other men's wives, 
 but he is pure gold in the rough ore, and brainy. 
 O Lord! there's a mind for you ! He is a perfect 
 lion for courage too. He sent his family to Yo- 
 semite just at the outbreak of the'"teyer, and I've no 
 idea he will let them know he's sick. They'll hear 
 nothing about it till he gets well or is dead. He's 
 got a sweet young daughter, just grown, and such 
 a noble wife ! They would both fly to him if they 
 knew he were sick. But he's the sort to die and 
 make no sound, rather than let them run any 
 risk. Now don't you get mad and disgusted when 
 you hear him swear. You'll be sure to hear him 
 
174 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 do it, for he's had the habit ever since a boy. 
 It's second nature with him, and he don't mean 
 the least harm. Why, he's the tenderest, kindest 
 man in his family — a good husband, a good father, 
 and a good friend. Now let me tell you some- 
 thing about him so you won't think so hard of 
 him when he says words offensive to your little 
 ears. The man has suffered, I suppose, as much 
 as mortal man can suffer. Let me put the case 
 to you. 
 
 "Thirty years ago George Loper, that's the 
 Colonel, was admitted to the b^r here with good 
 prospects. He had ability, grit, lots of friends, 
 and people loved his father ; his way to rise seemed 
 a plain ' walk over the course.' There was one 
 little trick he had that was like a gully seaming 
 up and undermining a good piece of land ; that 
 was taking too much whiskey — and when he 
 drank it, it turned him a plumb fool. Well, court 
 was in session that fall, and George got with a lot 
 of young fellows, like himself, fond of a social 
 glass. First thing we knew he was on a regular 
 spree which lasted three weeks. Just as he was 
 coming out of it, and quick to burn as powder, 
 he goes into a saloon one Sunday morning, and 
 there was a faro-dealer. He walked up, made a 
 deal, lost, and handed the man a twenty-dollar 
 bill. 
 
 " ' It's a counterfeit, sir,' said the man. 
 
 " ' O, h — 1 ! it's not,' said Loper, his eyes blaz- 
 ing. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. ijrj 
 
 " Now it happened that Abdiel Stubbs, a good 
 sort of easy fellow, a friend of Loper's, a kind of 
 fag of his, indeed, with whom he had been brought 
 up, sat in the saloon. A poor, simple-minded 
 fellow, not an idiot, had sense enough for common 
 uses of life, but not that wise sense that ought to 
 have made him keep his mouth shut in the pres- 
 ence of a man whose brain had not yet regained 
 its equipoise after being overturned with liquor, — 
 he, forsooth, Loper's own fag and football, must 
 foolishly say, ' O George ! it is a counterfeit.' 
 
 " Instantly the apparently quenched fire of anger 
 blazed up with death and destruction in its con- 
 suming flame. In the twinkling of an eye a pistol- 
 shot was in poor Abdiel's bosom, and the words, 
 ' O George ! you've killed me ! ' rang in the ears of 
 maddened Loper with a knell of anguish that I 
 believe has kept up its real peal in his heart and 
 brain ever since. Stubbs died, regretted and pitied 
 by everybody ; most of all by his poor old mother 
 and gentle sister, who supported him and loved to 
 do it. You can imagine how strong public feeling 
 was against Loper, but I think his remorse was 
 keener than any anguish of loss of popularity. 
 He left home and wandered in Central America. 
 He worked on that railroad across the Isthmus. He 
 lived with tljose strange foreign people, in one in- 
 cessant round of hard manual labor, but the agony 
 of pity, the viper of remorse was his boon com- 
 panion. Even in that out-of-the-way land he got 
 letters, and hearing there would be a session of court 
 
176 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 in September, he wrote three months before to 
 his friends that he would appear and stand his 
 trial. 
 
 "It was reported everywhere that General 
 Loper's son was coming home, and people shook 
 their heads, and many didn't believe it. ' Why,' 
 they said, ' he'll be hung and he knows it ; catch 
 him being such a fool as to come back.' 
 
 " They didn't know the timber he was made of. 
 The second day the grand jury was in session, 
 up rode George Loper and hitched his sorrel to a 
 sycamore near the court-house door. The grand 
 jury brought in a true bill, and he was tried, pleaded 
 guilty to killing, but not to murder in cold blood ; 
 was convicted of manslaughter, sentenced to two 
 years in jail and five hundred dollars fine. I had 
 gone east, and so was absent at the time of the 
 trial. When I came home I went to the jail and 
 asked the jailer if anybody was allowed to see 
 Loper. 
 
 " ' O yes,' said he, ' he ain't guarded ; it would 
 be tomfoolerj?^ to guard any man that made his 
 way back from the wilds of Central America to 
 stand trial for murder, don't you think so ? ' Fact 
 was, George Loper was keeping house in that jail 
 in a most surprising way ; he had two large rooms 
 comfortably furnished, and more books than I 
 ever saw before or since, except in a public 
 library. Why, they were piled from floor to 
 ceiling, and as for George, he received me with 
 the dignity of a prince of the blood. Well, Miss 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 177 
 
 Lemuir, he was then just in his prime, but remorse 
 had made him look like an old man ; his eyes were 
 the saddest I ever saw in a human head, but the 
 sadness was all in his eyes ; there was never an 
 allusion to his pain. He talked in a way to light 
 up one's mind and warm one's heart. He was 
 visited by our best people, and while in jail did 
 all the legal work that could be done except 
 pleading at the bar. He was an omnivorous 
 reader, and a student that delved and toiled like a 
 galley-slave. I think he worked to keep himself 
 from going mad and blowing his own brains out. 
 Well, he came out of his comparative seclusion, 
 and after awhile married a woman as earnest and 
 active in her way as he is in his. Such a busy 
 life as they lead. They own a fine farm near the 
 city here, keep Jersey cows, blooded horses and 
 Angora sheep. 
 
 " Mrs. Loper has always managed the farm. 
 She rides like an Indian and has the executive 
 capacity of a general of armies. George Loper 
 is to-day at the head of the criminal lawyers. 
 When he pleads, acquittal or a mild sentence is a 
 foregone conclusion. He has made the ' Messen- 
 ger' a power in three States ; the brilliancy and 
 power of his editorials is something to be felt, not 
 described. Of course he was in the war, and to 
 this hour his name lights up the faces of the men 
 of his old regiment. You have heard stories of 
 Alexander's and Napoleon's kindness and sym- 
 pathy with the men of the rank and file ; that was 
 12 
 
178 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 Loper's way. Well, he was in the habit, when his 
 family were at home,of spending his sleeping hours 
 there ; that is, he drove in after breakfast, dined 
 in town and went back home about midnight ; but 
 since he sent his family off, which was the last of 
 June, he's boarded with Mrs. McAboy on Second 
 Street, a very showy place, but the fare was bad. 
 I don't know, what possessed him to stay there, only 
 that it was convenient to his office and he's had so 
 much to do. His men kept dropping off ; some 
 left, and more got sick ; but he's kept the ' Mes- 
 senger ' going until he was taken ill. When he 
 became sick Mrs. McAboy told him she wanted 
 his room, and he was moved in an ambulance last 
 night to the hospital where I'm taking you." 
 
 Just then they were passing near a sluggish 
 stream from which came a disgusting odor. 
 
 " That's the bayou," said Colonel St. John, " the 
 very fountain of pollution, as Loper's ' Messsenger ' 
 has named it. You see how low it is. Well, in 
 some places it barely runs, and into it people 
 dump their filth. It is the receptacle for the out- 
 come of sewers and sinks, and Loper foretold that 
 it would be a hot-bed for the propagation of fever 
 if the germs were once introduced. Phew, what a 
 smell ! Bad as if a thousand cats and dogs were 
 decomposing there. I saw the doctors dissect a 
 man here at the hospital yesterday. His spleen 
 seemed to be the organ most affected. It was 
 eight inches long and five wide, the kidneys were 
 enormously congested and the gall-bladder was 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. i 75 
 
 filled with a stringy-looking substance, not bile 
 though, and there was tremendous veinous con- 
 gestion." 
 
 They now entered the large building known as 
 the Melita Hospital, and passed through a ward 
 full of patients where a woman was busily en- 
 gaged feeding eggnog to the patients. She did 
 not even glance towards them, but Vivia looked 
 at her curiously and noticed her lily-white skin 
 and golden hair. 
 
 " They call her the ' Angel of the Hospital,' 
 poor thing," whispered the " Howard," as they 
 passed out of the ward. "And she's got her 
 hands full; she's been here three weeks. I got 
 Colonel Loper into a little room by himself, and I 
 shall depend on you to bring him round more 
 than Evans, with all his nostrums. Now, Miss 
 Vivia, ever hear of mesmerism ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said she, smiling. 
 
 " Well, I have mighty strong faith in the mes- 
 merism of touch and will. Exert both for the 
 salvation of the greatest man in the middle-west. 
 If he lives we will elect him governor of the 
 State." 
 
 " I believe in the power of the touch of sympa- 
 thy," said Vivia, her sweet eyes kindling. 
 
 " This used to be Dr. Odell's office," said the 
 " Howard." " I just had time to have a bed put 
 in here, and Loper was put right into it." 
 
 They entered a high-ceiled room with a shabby 
 carpet on the floor, dusty heavy curtains at the 
 
i§o bEHOLbWG AS W A GLASS. 
 
 wide windows, and an office paraphernalia, in the 
 midst of which the hastily made-up bed looked 
 strangely out of place.. But Vivia's eyes lingered 
 longest on the snow-white head, tossing so rest- 
 lessly on the pillow, and the piercing eyes under 
 shaggy brows. 
 
 " She's only a little hop-o-my-thumb, George, 
 but Evans says the best nurse out," said the 
 " Howard," with a chuckle. " Now do what she 
 tells you. Good-bye, Miss Lemuir ; I'll look in 
 some time to-day," and he was gone. 
 
 Vivia, in her singularly self-forgetful way, ap- 
 proached the bed and put her cool little fingers 
 on the big, burning, hairy, yellow hand that lay on 
 the coverlet. Without saying a word she began 
 cold sponging ; after twenty minutes of this she 
 got him to move to the other side of the bed, 
 beating up the pillows ; then she found a paper of 
 lemons and had just made a glass of lemonade, 
 which she was holding to the lips of the patient, 
 when Dr. Evans entered. 
 
 " How are you. Miss Lemuir ? " was his cool 
 greeting. " Stop a moment, let me add something 
 to that," and he put in a few grains of bitartrate 
 of potassium. " That will do you good, ColoneL 
 Better have ice in it. Miss Lemuir ; you can get 
 ice from across the passage. I will ask Miss 
 Weston, the lady in charge of the nearest ward, 
 to call for you when dinner is ready." 
 
 " Is there a step-ladder available in the build- 
 ing?" 
 
MffOLbmC AS MA GLASS. i§i 
 
 " Yes ! there's one in the room where the ice is 
 kept ; what do you want with it ? " 
 
 " I want to stand on it to take down those 
 heavy curtains ; and I would Hke some clean 
 sheets for his bed." 
 
 " I will get the step-ladder for you," said Dr. 
 Evans, with the ghost of a smile lurking in his 
 eyes ; " you go about your business with your 
 old-time energy, I see." 
 
 Dr. Evans brought the step-ladder, and as soon 
 as he had adjusted it Vivia started to ascend, but 
 he prevented her. 
 
 " Let me," he said, " I'm so much taller it will 
 be a far easier job for me ; " but Vivia stood by and 
 directed him, telling him how to get the curtains 
 down, which he set about awkwardly enough. 
 
 " Now, hadn't I better give him a mustard foot- 
 bath ? " said she, as Dr. Evans picked up his 
 small medicine chest, preparatory to leaving. 
 
 He looked at her with some surprise. " I would 
 advise it, and when the calm stage comes on you 
 can give him a tablespoonful of iced milk, but it 
 will be some hours yet. Ask Miss Weston to show 
 you the kitchen when you want your dinner ; " so 
 saying he disappeared. 
 
 Vivia now bethought herself of her hat, and as 
 she laid it aside reflected : "I suppose he was 
 amused at my absent-mindedness." She then 
 looked about for a foot-pan, found one, half filled 
 it with water impregnated with mustard from the 
 bottle the doctor had left, placed the pan at the 
 
1^2 BkHOLblNGASINAGLA^S. 
 
 foot of the bed, then by raising his knees the 
 patient's feet could remain in the water while he 
 lay quietly covered about his lower limbs with 
 blankets. 
 
 She saw him press his hand to his forehead. 
 
 '• Does it pain you very much ? " she asked. 
 
 " The whole front of my head feels as if it 
 would come off." 
 
 " Let me rub it for you, she said ; and, pressing 
 her palms on each of his temples, would gently 
 pass her hand back and, forth. She saw the glisten- 
 ing red eyes close, and, taking a lump of ice in her 
 handkerchief, she would pass it quickly over his 
 forehead and the top of his head, the icy touch 
 not pausing a second on any one spot. This was 
 evidently soothing. After letting his feet re- 
 main in the foot-bath half an hour, she dried and 
 wrapped them in blankets. There was consider- 
 able perspiration and much drowsiness. Vivia sat 
 down by him, silent as the dew, and fanned him 
 like a breath, while she listened to his stertorous 
 breathing. He soon moved, opened his eyes, 
 which looked so watery she thought them tear- 
 ful. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he asked harshly, and a little 
 of their native penetration came into the weak 
 eyes. " What are you doing here ? " 
 
 " I'm your nurse. Colonel Loper ; my name is 
 Vivia Lemuir." 
 
 "What place is this?" 
 
 "The city hospital." 
 
Beholding as in a glass. 183 
 
 " The h — 1 it is ! That woman turned me 
 out of my rooms ! I remember ! It was nothing 
 but a swindling shop. Do you know what she 
 fed us on ? Why, beef so tough it would do to 
 make boots of, and bre.ad so sour the yeast put 
 into it would have made a pig squeal ; as for her 
 made-over coffee, I know it was nothing but 
 chicory, and the milk mostly water. Think of 
 starch pudding with such sauce ! biscuits sodden 
 with soda and hard as brickbats. Lord, what 
 shams ! " He broke into a laugh. 
 
 " Girl, did you ever see a sham ? Let me intro- 
 duce you to my landlady, Mrs. McAboy, with the 
 paint on her face so thick you can't get a glimpse 
 of her natural skin, with a hump on her back she 
 calls a bustle that would make a dromedary go 
 mad with envy. She's a widow and out husband- 
 hunting, and the lies she tells, and the subter- 
 fuges ! This world is full of shams ! You be- 
 lieve it ? " He looked at her sharply. " O ! you 
 don't ! you needn't tell me ! I know better ; you 
 are one of the trusting kind. Why, I am a sham 
 myself ; I walk these streets as boldly as Adam 
 walked in the garden before the fall, but yet I 
 have the brand of Cain on my brow. I've killed 
 a man ! Girl, did you know it ? — a poor, harmless 
 fellow ! I see the blood everywhere ! My God ! 
 but I didn't mean to do it. The devil got into 
 me. O Abdiel ! will you never let me alone ? 
 will you haunt me till I die with that poor, white, 
 dying face of yours ? yes ! I'm a sham, a 
 
l84 BkHOLDikG AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 fraud, a humbug; and these fools, my fellow- 
 citizens, are taken in by my tricks of speech. I 
 talk so well, you see, and when they throw up 
 their hats and 'rah, 'rah, 'rah, they imagine they 
 are doing homage to a patriot. Well, I do love 
 my city, my state, my country, but I don't love 
 some people. I have no use for such women as 
 Mrs. McAboy. Her eye is as cruel as a cat's, as 
 mean as a suck-egg dog's. She looks at you and 
 gauges you by what you've got, not by what you 
 are. Didn't I see her insolent to poor Miss 
 Malone, the school-marm who boarded there? 
 But the way she got the better of Jones was funny, 
 (then he laughed). " She's always playing back- 
 gammon with her men-boarders, do you see, and 
 Jones being a clergyman and a widower, she pat- 
 ronized him in that way, and little by little enticed 
 him into betting on the games ; and, by my soul ! 
 drained him of all his small change." 
 
 Then he was silent awhile. 
 
 " Did Langley bring you here ? Did he have 
 the measuring-line and his hoe to lay me out ? 
 O ! that white face of Abdiel's ! " 
 
 Gradually this delirium passed and he rested ; 
 and just as Miss Weston came to show her the 
 way to the dining-room. Colonel St. John re- 
 turned and said he would take charge of her 
 patient till she had had dinner. 
 
 Miss Weston was hardly above medium height, 
 with a slender figure, a skin like marble for white- 
 ness, and shining bright hair that waved over her 
 
^EtldLbtkG AS IN- A GLASS. 185 
 
 forehead in a bewilderment of curls. She wore a 
 plain black calico made without a ruffle, plait or 
 tuck, and had not a single ring on her long white 
 fingers. But what went to Vivia's heart, and 
 almost drew tears to her eyes, was the pitiful 
 sadness of the girl's expression. 
 
 Nothing could have been kinder or more sym- 
 pathetic than her manners, though she never 
 uttered one unnecessary word, but the dumb, 
 appealing expression of her eyes spoke volumes 
 to Vivia. She found herself longing to know the 
 history of this sad young creature, yearning to 
 express the love which had suddenly filled her 
 heart for her. 
 
 "How long have you been here?" was her 
 commonplace question, while the surging thought 
 in her brain made her wonder at her own calm- 
 ness of speech. 
 
 " Three weeks ; " and the great brown eyes, so 
 indescribably touching in their soft beauty, so 
 wonderful in their contrast to the golden hair and 
 marble skin, looked at Vivia with an expression 
 that seemed as if deprecating sin, entreating for- 
 giveness. 
 
 " Have you nursed many cases ? " 
 
 " O, yes. I have been in the ward, you know, 
 have often attended to five or six at one time, and 
 I have straightened the bodies and closed the eyes 
 of, oh, so many ! " 
 
 " Have you ever had the disease ? " 
 
 " No, that's what I am looking forward to ; " 
 
l86 BEHOLDING AS m A GLASS. 
 
 and for the first time a smile wreathed the ex- 
 quisite lips. 
 
 " I declare, you look as if you rather liked the 
 idea," said Vivia, in amazement. " Now I have a 
 terror of it, or I would if I let myself loose ; but I 
 pray to God and try not to think of myself, and 
 that's the only way by which I have managed to 
 keep from being so nervous and panicky as to be 
 utterly worthless as a nurse. I do believe if I 
 had not prayed hard I would have run back to 
 brother's as soon as I got here, and confronted 
 the horror. I ran away from home," said Vivia, 
 laughter in her eyes, " and brother has written 
 and urged me to go back and be quarantined in 
 Lamb's old cabin, but I am like a new recruit 
 after a little drilling, somewhat better able to stand 
 the flash of the guns and the roar of the cannon." 
 
 Miss Weston listened to all this with such an 
 expression of deep interest that Vivia felt like 
 unbosoming herself of her whole little history, 
 and only recollected afterwards that her new 
 friend had said nothing in reply save what her 
 speaking countenance conveyed. 
 
 She had said, " There are small dormitories in 
 the building for the nurses in the west end. Dr. 
 Evans told me yours was No. 13. Will you sit 
 up to-night ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Vivia, " but I'd like you to show 
 me my room now and I will take a sponge bath, 
 so that I may be as fresh as possible for to-night's 
 vigil." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 187 
 
 Miss Weston had gone with her to the room. 
 They parted at Colonel Loper's door with a kiss 
 which Vivia offered, and at which Miss Weston's 
 face became illumined like the sky as the sun 
 emerges from a cloud at sunset. 
 
l88 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Colonel Loper recovered and returned to 
 business, bringing out almost single-handed a 
 sheet of the once huge daily " Messenger " three 
 times a week. It was he who, at the beginning 
 of the pestilence, sounded the tocsin, " Flee from 
 the fever ; the only salvation is the depopulation 
 of the city." Giving this advice to others, he re- 
 mained inexorably at his post until his force was 
 so reduced by death and desertion that he had to 
 do everything, from setting type to writing edi- 
 torials. 
 
 In the vast charnel-house to which the fair city 
 was reduced, the wildest consternation seemed to 
 deprive people of reason ; but this man Loper, 
 with massive head and nerves of steel, sat in his 
 office and organized committees, bands of work- 
 ers, and such protective measures as tar-burning 
 and quick-liming, while still doing newspaper work. 
 The daily scenes of horror were enough to appal 
 the stoutest hearts. Men fell dead on the streets 
 or died neglected, only to be discovered by the 
 gases generated by their decaying bodies. The 
 stench on reopening vaults, which was done in 
 many instances, was horrible beyond description. 
 
 Colonel Loper put a stop to this, and mustered 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 189 
 
 a corps of negroes to go around twice a day, 
 gathering up the dead and carrying them outside 
 the city. This was as wise as humane, for before 
 some corpses had been unburied for forty-eight 
 hours. The atmosphere was heavy with poison ; 
 it could be fairly tasted ; and now, in the latter 
 part of the second month, those who tried to 
 compute the ravages of the plague were appalled 
 at the swelling list. Families composed of from 
 six to eight had, in numerous instances, been swept 
 away, buried one after another, or two or three at 
 a time. 
 
 But the editor's eloquent appeals had borne 
 fruit ; money, provisions and supplies of all kinds 
 flowed into the plague-stricken city, and doctors 
 from New Orleans and Charleston, with trained 
 nurses, came to the relief of those who were worn 
 out with watching. 
 
 The plague, however, sensibly abated as the sea- 
 son advanced and cold weather came on. Vivia 
 had formed a fervent friendship with Miss Wes- 
 ton ; but though this had met with a sympathetic 
 return, in deed and expression, no word had ever 
 been spoken which gave Vivia the least clew to 
 her previous life ; whereas Vivia, in a manner 
 unusual even to her frank and trusting disposi- 
 tion, liked to lay open her heart to the woman 
 whose patience and power in the sick-room had 
 caused her more impulsive nature to turn to her 
 as to a tower of strength. The two girls had 
 become known to everybody in the afflicted city. 
 
igo 
 
 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 and reverenced as angels of goodness. But Vivia 
 was loved for her kindness, whereas the beautiful 
 face of Miss Weston not only won all hearts, but 
 instant homage. These two, who had taken their 
 lives in their hands, seemed invulnerable to the 
 plague ; they had, as it were, gone into the lion's 
 den, and the jaws of the wild beast had been 
 closed so as to do them no harm. 
 
 But one day, when it seemed as if frost could 
 not be far off, and the shade of death lessening 
 in perspective, Miss Weston said to Vivia : " I 
 feel so tired, dear; if I do get down will you take 
 care of me ? " 
 
 ^* Do you doubt it ? " said Vivia, and with the 
 caress most natural to her she stole her arm around 
 the white neck and kissed the lovely eyes. But 
 she noticed with a little quake of terror that the 
 brown orbs had not their usual brilliancy, and that 
 there was a tinge of yellow in the balls. Next 
 morning Miss Weston did not get up, but she 
 seemed not very sick ; yet surely she succumbed 
 to increasing languor. 
 
 The second night she said to Vivia : " Dear, 
 you have been so good to me and have shown me 
 all your pure, sweet life and never even asked to 
 look into my record; and now, while I have voice 
 left, I want to open that dark scroll, my past, even 
 though it make you run away from me as from a 
 leper. But you have wanted to know about me, 
 dear child, and my latest breath shall be given to 
 telling you. If your pure heart does not shrink, I 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 19 i 
 
 will know by that token that I may hope to enter 
 the white courts, beyond the stars, cleansed by 
 the blood of the Lamb. O Vivia ! I have felt 
 impelled to tell you, but dreaded your condemna- 
 tion." 
 
 " ' There is therefore now no condemnation to 
 those who love the Lord Jesus,' "murmured Vivia, 
 clasping tightly the hands of the girl whose feet 
 were nearing the shores of the spirit world. " Dear 
 Mattie, do not doubt my sympathy ; for I love 
 you, and 'love beareth all things, believeth all 
 things, hopeth all things.' " 
 
 " In the beginning my sin was only vanity," 
 said Mattie ; " but this was the worm in the bud 
 that corrupted all my life ; even you, Vivia, even 
 you with your lofty standards, your eyes looking 
 to heaven, your lips forever praying, you loved 
 me for the beauty of this poor body. Ah ! dear 
 God ! I will soon be rid of it and its temptations. 
 It has been like a fair robe, clothing an unclean 
 spirit ! But oh ! if He cleansed the lepers is He 
 not able to cleanse me ? " 
 
 Vivia held a glass of water to her lips, and after 
 she had drank and lay back quietly a moment, 
 she gently smoothed the bright shining waves of 
 hair clustering about the blue-veined forehead and 
 dropped a tear on the face. 
 
 " Beauty of body has been my curse," said poor 
 Mattie ; " even as a child I listened to the praises 
 of my skin, and hair, and eyes. It was like the 
 drink of liquor men swallow that forms the ap- 
 
192 
 
 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 petite ; 1 grew greedy for praise ; I became dis- 
 satisfied with my simple surroundings, and resented 
 what I considered having to stay at my humdrum 
 home. I was an only child, and my father and 
 mother loved me so, how could they see into the 
 hollow heart inside the form they considered so 
 perfect ? They didn't mean to let me go to ruin. 
 Oh ! don't think too hard of them, Vivia, but they 
 thought their gem, as they called me, too fine for 
 that poor country place ; so I grew up into all 
 vain, selfish thoughts, and, as a consequence, foolish 
 ways. I hated the poor country and poor people, 
 as not fit for one born to rule, such as I fancied I 
 was by right of beauty. Ah, Lord ! if I had only 
 been born plain, homely — sweet old word — I might 
 have had some ' homely' virtue. But I was selfish, 
 Vivia, so selfish I fairly loathe myself as I see it 
 manifested in my career. 
 
 " As a child my parents tried with their slender 
 means to make everything easy for me ; they 
 worked themselves nearly to death to give me fine 
 dresses, fine schooling, and all sorts of fine pleasur- 
 ing. I took it all as my right. I sat idle while 
 my mother cooked, washed, scoured, scrubbed, 
 washed dishes and sewed. I considered that it was 
 impossible for me to do these things, as it would 
 spoil my hands ! Ah, Vivia ! the worms will feed 
 on flesh full of vileness when they fatten on my 
 white hands ! Lord be merciful to a sinner ! " 
 There was a gush of tears. 
 
 " Ah ! I remember how my father waited on me 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 193 
 
 all my life till I ran away ; how he bore my petu- 
 lance and self-will and outrageous lack of decency, 
 for I'd sit down at the table and take the best, and 
 scold because it was no better. Of course I had 
 admirers in plenty. Girls unselfish like you, dear 
 Vivia, were drawn to me by my'lovely eyes ;' their 
 color and expression, alas ! were quite unconnected 
 with my soul. If they had been mirrors of that, 
 and had shown thoughts, all of which revolved in 
 a circle about myself -what should I eat, what 
 should I wear, how could I get the best of every- 
 thing-they would have despised me. I declare to 
 you, I thought of young men only as the advan- 
 tages they would give me by marriage. But the 
 people in that part of the country were poor, and so 
 I rejected offer after offer, and ended by becoming 
 very unpopular with boys and girls, who called 
 me what I truly was, ' scornful and stuck up.' I 
 was a regular attendant at church "and Sunday- 
 school, but the preaching and teaching never en- 
 tered my heart any more than if it had been 
 spoken in a foreign language. I would expend 
 days in the arrangement of a rufifle, or bow, or 
 coiffure, anything to set me off ; and I showed 
 myself at church simply to be admired, and in the 
 hope of new conquests. 
 
 " My punishment overtook me in that very place, 
 in the church whose sacredness I had outraged 
 by my selfish thoughts. My habit was to take a 
 seat near the door, with whatever young fellow 
 had last succumbed to my blandishments, and then 
 13 
 
194 
 
 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 I would chat in tones audible to every person in 
 the building. I did not care. I regarded preach- 
 ers and people as nothings, fit only to wipe my 
 feet on, and the church as merely a theatre for 
 the display of my person. 
 
 " Here on a Sabbath morning I first saw Inspector 
 Leiter of the S. W. &. C. Railway. He was a 
 small man with cunning eyes, but what attracted 
 my attention was his diamond shirt-buttons and 
 the diamond cluster he wore on his little finger. 
 He stared at me all during service, and I recollect 
 I was not at all abashed, but rather congratulated 
 myself on having attracted his attention. 
 
 " After service he came up, and Eddie Meyers, 
 my escort, introduced him. He spent that Sunday 
 evening at our house, praised my face and my voice, 
 and gave my father to understand how rich he 
 was. It was all a foregone conclusion with me. 
 I thought here was my chance of marrying a rich 
 man, and going to the city to live, and I was 
 quite prepared for the proposal he made me on 
 his third visit, also on a Sunday. All his visits were 
 on Sunday, as that was the only day, he said, 
 that he could be away from his business. 
 
 " I remember quite enjoying his cynicism and 
 skepticism regarding religion. O Vivia ! I was 
 a branch ready for the burning. Mr. Leiter 
 insisted that we should have no commonplace 
 wedding, but instead a romance in keeping with 
 the beauty of his bride-elect. He asked me to stand 
 on the railroad crossing near our house the next 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 195 
 
 Sunday and wave a white handkerchief, and he, in 
 his special car, would stop and take me up and we 
 would be married on board ; later we would send 
 for pa and ma to come and live with us in the city. 
 Oh ! my heart was such a selfish heart ! I had 
 no qualms at deceiving my parents for a mere 
 caprice, for I did not suppose they would object 
 to my marriage at home, as they had treated 
 General Leiter with marked courtesy. They had 
 been the slaves of my whims all my life, going 
 threadbare to buy me shoddy finery and tinsel 
 jewelry. Oh ! that bad man of the world read my 
 foolish thoughts as in an open book, and knew just^, 
 how to entice such a silly fly into his den of infamy. 
 O Vivia ! don't forsake me ! " She laid her hand 
 on Vivia's with a close clasp. " He set me down in 
 a place I cannot name to you. On the train his 
 excuse for not carrying out ' our romance ' was that 
 the preacher had disappointed him ; but he kept 
 me from any fears by his devotion, and by the 
 gift of a diamond bracelet. At least I supposed it 
 was a diamond, but probably the gems were paste. 
 
 " We reached the city at night, and were taken, 
 as I imagined, to a private boarding-house. He 
 introduced me to his dear friend, Mrs. Eustis, who 
 flattered and cajoled me to the top of my bent. 
 Next morning we were married in the parlor, with 
 only Mrs. Eustis for a witness, and by a man so 
 villainous-looking that I, simple, countrified girl 
 as I was, felt vaguely miserable. 
 
 "Alas! Vivia, I did not suspect the sham- 
 
igd bEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 marriage palmed off on me until I had been an 
 inmate of that place of horror for six weeks, and 
 had been seen in the streets with several of ' the 
 girls.' Then the man Leiter suspended his visits, 
 and when he at last returned told me he had a wife, 
 but he loved me so he could not resist the temp- 
 tation of taking advantage of my gullibility. Lord 
 have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me ! " 
 
 The poor girl was now attacked by such a 
 shuddering fit that her story was cut short. 
 
 " Don't talk, dear Lily, (Vivia had always called 
 her so, so lily white was she). I fear it may hurt 
 you." 
 
 But the girl insisted. " I must finish. Let me 
 tell you all, beloved. One night I asked Winnie 
 Streeter, the only one of the inmates of that awful 
 place in whom I had any confidence, to go with 
 me for a stroll (we were encouraged to stroll at 
 night). We walked far and were attracted by the 
 sound of singing in a hall. I said to her, ' Let us go 
 into that place, it must be a church.' She acqui- 
 esced. It was a plain building into which we thus 
 intruded, filled with a crowd of plainly-dressed 
 people of the poorer sort, who stared at our rich 
 dresses and jewels. The man in the pulpit, lin- 
 ing out the hymn, was a short, thick-set man with 
 a noble head, bald on top, of strong voice, and a 
 manner of great earnestness. He gave out the 
 text, which I never shall forget, 'If any man 
 will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take 
 up the cross, aad follow Me.* 
 
^R HOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 197 
 
 " In words which burned themselves into my 
 very soul, he painted the life of Jesus the Healer, 
 the Saviour of sinners, who went about doing good, 
 seeking to save that which was lost, but despising 
 not even that poor wretched Magdalene out of 
 whom He cast seven devils, denying Himself all so- 
 called pleasures of life, scorning the crown they 
 would have forced on Him, intent only on reclaim- 
 ing those who had gone astray. Ah ! was I not lost ? 
 I had thought hopelessly, but here was a voice 
 that said, ' Come unto Me and take up the cross 
 and thou shalt reign with Me hereafter.' 'Though 
 thy sins be as scarlet thou shalt be made as snow.' 
 The cross of His self-denial only ended on the 
 place of skulls, and every one of those twelve 
 chosen ones was to bear His cross too, before going 
 up to be part of His kingdom, which ' was not of 
 this world.' 
 
 " Then came a word-picture of the early cross- 
 bearers who were burned, who were crucified, 
 who were beheaded, who were sawn asunder. He 
 described that climax of Nero's horrible cruelties 
 which the tyrant called his illuminators, or living 
 torches. Lastly he drew a picture of a living 
 slave-girl, fair, white, beautiful, with a body like 
 mine, Vivia (this body you love, and I loathe), 
 such a slave-girl, cast to the lions by order of the 
 emperor in the amphitheatre, for the amusement 
 of the people. He described the modesty of the 
 poor young creature — looking up in prayer one 
 moment, the next, as she lay under the gaping, 
 
igS BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 growling jaws of the ferocious beast, trying to 
 screen her person from the gaze of the blood- 
 thirsty populace. Yet this tortured creature went 
 fearlessly to death, made strong by faith, while 
 the jeweled Empress Poppaea, gloating on her 
 agonies, felt in her sinful heart the premonition 
 of that death that never dies! In that hour, 
 Vivia, I longed to be the girl under the lion's jaws, 
 yet loosed from the power of sin by her act of 
 faith. 'And you hath He quickened who were 
 dead in trespasses and sins,' said the preacher. 
 Was I not dead in trespasses and sins? Were 
 not the very jewels and fine robes I wore, the 
 visible cerements of the sepulchre in which I lay 
 dead ? Dead ! yet the preacher said, ' Jesus could 
 make the dead to live ; He had saved Lazarus, 
 dead for four days and decaying; yes. His love 
 could reach a soul dead in trespasses and sins ! 
 Yes, yes ! ' So declared this man, whose voice, 
 manner and looks showed a belief that would 
 have gone to the stake in testimony. 
 
 " Dear Vivia, in that hour Christ plucked me 
 out of the burning; I had a vivid sense of a new 
 birthright then. As the sermon ended I took 
 Winnie's hand and we fled from the church (we 
 had sat near the door), and hastened to the place 
 we called home — now to me indeed a sepulchre 
 of loathsomeness. 
 
 Winnie, like myself, had felt those awful truths ; 
 she was a gentle thing who had gone astray 
 through love, and continued in that horrible life 
 
BEHOLDING AS M A GLASS. 199 
 
 through want of force to fling it oil. We managed 
 next day to buy some black stuff, which, with 
 what skill we could, we converted into dresses, 
 and with plain black hats, wraps and veils, we 
 watched our opportunity, and got away that night 
 by jumping from a window on the first floor, for 
 madame, our mistress, exercised a strict surveil- 
 lance over all her inmates and was loth to lose 
 any. We boarded the train at one of the street- 
 crossings and came to Melita, where we heard they 
 wanted yellow-fever nurses. Poor Winnie was 
 unwilling to come here, but I had a stronger will 
 and persuaded her. For myself I saw in the 
 fever only a hungry lion to whom I should be 
 thrown, but, in bearing this cross, I should be saved 
 as by fire. 
 
 " Poor Winnie died when we had been here about 
 ten days ; was only ill a few hours, but she died 
 content. But heaven spared me that I might 
 come fully to my right mind. O ! how good 
 God is who has suffered me to live awhile to bear 
 this blessed cross ! Most strange and sweet that 
 those teachings, in the words I used to listen to in 
 childhood, have come back to me in these latter 
 days, when I was longing to testify Christ's saving 
 power. I have been able to recall them for the 
 comfort of the dying, and the help of those ready 
 to perish. It has been (these two months while 
 I've nursed the fever-stricken), the happiest time 
 in my life. 
 
 " And now, Vivia, like the Roman slave-girl, I 
 
200 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 lie beneath the lion's paw, but I fear no evil, for 
 Christ comforts me. Let me whisper my name 
 — my true name, and my father's name, and you 
 will keep it secret ; and after awhile, when the 
 plague is at an end, you will write to my father 
 and mother, and tell them how I died in great 
 peace and in full hope of a glorious immortality. 
 They will forgive their erring child, I know. Who 
 knows so well as I do the riches of their love?" 
 
 " Yes, dear Lily, I will write, and I do thank 
 God that you are saved and that to me you have 
 so clearly demonstrated the fulness of His pardon 
 conveyed in His own precious words — ' Neither 
 do I condemn thee.' ' Greater love hath no man 
 than this, that a man lay down his life for his 
 friends ; ' but you have lain down yours for those 
 you knew not, and we remember what He said of 
 her ' who loved much.' " 
 
 The next day's " Messenger " contained the 
 following : — 
 
 " THE LILY FLOWER OF THE BLACK DEATH." 
 
 In the Horror of this Awful Pestilence Deeds 
 
 OF Self-Devotion Cast their Radiance 
 
 LIKE Lamps in the GLOom. 
 
 " As darkness shows us worlds of light, 
 We never see by day." 
 
 " The men who scaled the heights of Balaklava 
 took their lives in their hands — ' into the mouth 
 of death ; ' but their heroism did not exceed, in- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. ioi 
 
 deed was of the same nature, as that of the brave 
 girl who yesterday ceased to breathe and live — 
 the Lily Flower of the black-death, blooming out 
 of the very jaws of our horrible plague. 
 
 " Mattie Weston was a woman cast in perfect 
 mould, and in whom dwelt a soul fearless as any 
 knight that e'er put lance in rest, for conflict with 
 outnumbering forces. There is no sex in courage, 
 as this fair creature, one of an army that has filed 
 down the centuries in ones, and twos, and threes, 
 has proved. 
 
 " She came to us in the hour of our greatest need, 
 when strong men fled in the panic. She was not 
 afraid in the midst of this ' dance of death.' 
 
 " Nothing was ever known to excel her patience, 
 her tirelessness, her tenderness. For long it 
 seemed as if the grim Reaper turned away his 
 scythe as loth to cut down so fair a flower, but in 
 these last days, when the frost and deliverance 
 is so close at hand, the Inexorable stretches forth 
 his weapon and takes our Lily for his final prize. 
 
 "As the Crimean soldiers followed cravingly the 
 ' Lady with the Lamp,' so did the sick in our city 
 look upon this angel in human form. 
 
 " We thought her invincible, for had she not 
 gone in and out amongst our ghastliest horrors 
 unhurt ? 
 
 " Her memory shall be held sacred to the people 
 of Melita as long as our city keeps its place on 
 the bluffs of the father of waters. 
 
 " We will say of her — she gave her life for others ; 
 
202 SEffOLDTATG AS Iff A GLASS. 
 
 we will plant ivy upon her grave, which withers 
 not like laurel, and let 
 
 " ' The Lily in her hand be carven, 
 
 And the story of her dolorous nocte triste 
 Be blazoned on her tomb.' " 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS, 203 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 During all these weeks the relation between 
 Vivia and Evans was unique. He had taken the 
 place of her brother since she came into his life 
 by the sick-bed of his Aunt Gildersleeve. While 
 the epidemic lasted he constantly guarded her 
 against the contagion by supplying her with dis- 
 infectants, and insisting on her using all the pre- 
 cautions by which physicians protect themselves. 
 He saw her every day and made a habit of feeling 
 her pulse and looking at her tongue. But he 
 spoke to her in the off-hand and sometimes short 
 manner, which was his usual style of speech. 
 
 His kind, caretaking ways, in which there 
 seemed not the remotest glimmer of a lover, set 
 Vivia at her ease, so that her character unfolded 
 before him as naturally as an opening flower. 
 
 The doctor would come in to look at a patient 
 she was nursing, and she would immediately hand 
 him her report, which she always had ready, giving 
 the patient's temperature at different hours, and 
 other symptoms. She regularly inquired after 
 the doctor's health with the greatest solicitude, 
 and, in the course of their intimacy, drew from him 
 the acknowledgment of his unhygienic habits, — 
 
204 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 how, after seeing patients till two o'clock in the 
 morning, he went to his room only to force him- 
 self to keep awake by making and drinking cups 
 of strong coffee, made from the essence. This 
 enabled him to read and study for several hours, 
 then he retired to sleep for not over two hours, 
 and then to his duties again. 
 
 Vivia pleaded with him to take better care of 
 himself, and when she knelt to pray his name was 
 first on her lips. 
 
 It seemed to her that her deep content at his 
 presence was the antidote to the awful infection 
 around her. 
 
 Now that the pestilence was at an end, and the 
 " sum of all her wishes," as she expressed it, had 
 been made possible by her position in a news- 
 paper office, she still saw Evans every day. If 
 for only ten minutes, he came to Mrs. Jones's, 
 where she boarded, and Vivia freely told him 
 what she had been doing through the day, and 
 often read to him her articles for his criticism. 
 
 He would call her attention to errors of fact or 
 figures, for he had the advantage in accuracy of 
 mind. 
 
 Miss Mary Jones, the dearest old maid in the 
 world, a daughter of Vivia's landlady, asked her 
 "what relation Doctor Evans was to her? " 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " Well, that is strange ; for you two seem like 
 sister and brother — not a bit of sweetheart fool- 
 ishness about you," 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 205 
 
 " We are only very good friends," said the girl, 
 looking steadfastly into Miss Mary's eyes. 
 
 She thought this was quite true, though she re- 
 called how often in her solitary walks at Ridley 
 Farm, looking up at the blue sky, she had pressed 
 her hand to her heart and said to herself, " I love 
 him, I love him ; but I shall never see him again, 
 and I shall never marry. If the good Lord will 
 help me to write one unforgetable book, I shall 
 have attained all life has for me. That will be 
 the sum of my wishes." 
 
 When she met Dr. Evans at Mrs. Gildersleeve's, 
 any consciousness on his part would have made 
 her shy of him ; but his air of serious courtesy 
 precluded any embarrassment. 
 
 It was the doctor who suggested to Colonel 
 Loper to give her a place on the " Messenger " 
 staff, which he did more as a matter of favor than 
 because he thought she had any literary genius, 
 for he had supposed her good qualities lay in the 
 line of nursing ; and considering that he owed his 
 life to her care in his attack of yellow fever, he 
 was quite ready to offer her a home with his 
 family on their return from California, and to wel- 
 come her as a daughter. But Dr. Evans knew her 
 better, and felt sure her ideas of independence 
 were more in consonance with his proposal that 
 she should have a place on the newspaper. 
 
 " I will be responsible for all the damage she 
 does you," laughed Dr. Evans, when he persuaded 
 Colonel Loper to make the arrangement. 
 
8o6 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS, 
 
 The place had been no sinecure, but Vivia had 
 developed a remarkable aptitude as a journalist, 
 and rendered herself a valuable assistant instead 
 of the mere superfluity Colonel Loper had feared 
 she might prove. 
 
 Meantime she had written and received several 
 letters from her brother, and he was very urgent 
 that she should return to Ridley Farm. He did 
 not at all relish the idea of his sister maintaining 
 herself by newspaper work, and enlarged on the 
 " home-sphere of women." 
 
 If there was some acerbity in his letters, it 
 would have been condoned if Vivia could have 
 known under what vexatious interference from 
 his wife he wrote. She professed to be in great- 
 est terror of infection, and made an awful outcry 
 if a letter from Vivia was brought into the 
 house ; and then she was opposed to having her 
 back, and made the captain understand this in 
 very aggravating terms. 
 
 As soon as quarantine was raised he sent his 
 sister's trunk to her, but wrote that his wife had 
 opened it to put some things in, and had de- 
 stroyed a pile of papers which she said " littered 
 the trunk." Fortunately the manuscript of the 
 story escaped, through its having been spread 
 thinly on the bottom of the trunk underneath 
 the newspaper-lining. 
 
 The story she had written under such draw- 
 backs of interruptions and espionage, Vivia now 
 read aloud to Dr. Evans ; and the vividness of its 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 207 
 
 realistic touches appealed strongly to the mind of 
 the man, who watched with such keenness of in- 
 terest every index of this woman's nature. 
 
 Those were moments fraught with destiny to 
 both, as Vivia interpreted her own thoughts and 
 conceptions with an eloquence of gesture, voice 
 and look, through which the story became 
 " apples of gold in baskets of silver." 
 
 At table Vivia sat by Miss Mary Jones, and 
 her merry, unsophisticated talk first attracted, and 
 after a while won Miss Mary's heart, — a quick 
 growth of friendship, but, hke the wild arum, 
 having a long tap-root. 
 
 Miss Mary was one of those old maids whose 
 life was in itself a sweet story of unselfish devo- 
 tion. When a young maid of eighteen she had, 
 by a fall from a horse, been so severely injured 
 that for ten years she had lain in bed helpless, 
 except her hands. But with these she had gained 
 money by needlework to support two orphan 
 nephews ; and when, by a surgical operation, she 
 was enabled to walk again, she not only kept 
 these boys at school, but had helped educate 
 a score of other orphans. It was pleasant to see 
 the lighting up of children's faces wherever Miss 
 Mary encountered them ; and to the little ones 
 her time was still entirely given. She taught a 
 day-school and had a class in Sunday-school ; 
 and she was constantly going to see poor sick 
 children in the exercise of her tender ministra- 
 tion?, With her Vivia went to churgh and §un- 
 
2o8 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 day-school, and also once a week accompanied 
 her in her visits to the slums. 
 
 There was one thing in which Vivia-at first 
 thought Miss Mary very odd, and that was her 
 arguing that "women ought to preach." Miss 
 Mary said the Samaritan woman (after Christ had 
 honored her above his men-disciples by announc- 
 irig his Messiahship first of all to her), went back 
 to the men of her city and preached Christ to 
 them. She said that same thing was done by 
 Anna in the Temple, by Priscilla, Junia, Urbane, 
 Julia Tryphosa, and Mary " who bestowed much 
 labor upon us," as St. Paul testified. But what 
 finally convinced Vivia that she was right was 
 going with Miss Mary to hear a woman evangelist 
 preach, and noting that the Holy Spirit bore 
 the same testimony to the God-inspired nature of 
 her mission, as to men, in the conversion of souls. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 It was midnight, but Captain Lemuir still sat 
 at his desk where he had been posting accounts, 
 his head on his hands, in gloomy reverie. 
 
 A low tapping on the window-sill attracted his 
 attention, and he hastened to raise the sash and 
 open the shutter. A man stood there whom he 
 recognized in the dim moonbeams as Jack Snow. 
 Without a word the intruder beckoned, and Cap- 
 tain Lemuir slipped off his shoes and passed 
 through the window. In the shelter of a huge fig- 
 tree the man whispered. 
 
 " Hide me, Captain, for God's sake. I've killed 
 a negro accidentally, and the darkeys are after me." 
 
 Without a word Captain Lemuir led the way 
 to Lamb's old cabin, which had been prepared 
 some weeks before for Vivia, and which had been 
 locked up ever since. He had the key in his 
 pocket, and opening the door the two went in. 
 
 " This place has been quarantined, in anticipa- 
 tion, for my sister," said the captain ; " you are 
 not likely to be interfered with here." 
 
 " All right. Thank you," said Snow ; " and now 
 I'll tell you how I got into such an awful scrape. 
 You know my cook, Hulda, a mighty good nigger 
 
2IO BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 and a first-rate cook (used to nurse me when I 
 was a baby, for which she thinks I can never get 
 done paying her). But she is trusty and mighty 
 good about feeding my hounds, and never hap- 
 pens to be sassy except when I am in a good- 
 humor. Well, a few months ago she married old 
 Zip Washington, a lazy, thievish old rascal, who 
 has ever since been living off her labor. Fact of 
 the business is he has been stealing my hogs. I 
 had eight in the poplar pasture, wild as bucks, but 
 came up reg'lar to be fed. 
 
 " I suspected him of killing one a month ago, 
 and told Hulda to tell him he had better not let 
 me lay eyes on him, or I would put him in the 
 penitentiary for hog-stealing. That made him 
 awful mad, and a few days ago I found my best 
 milk cow with her horn broken off, evidently with 
 an axe. She died. I sent word to him to keep off 
 my premises,so yesterday he went to old Cheowah- 
 town and got full of mean whiskey, which raised 
 his spirits so high that he wasn't afraid of any- 
 body, and came right into the kitchen where I was 
 eating my supper. I jumped at him, intending to 
 throw him out of doors. I hadn't a spark of malice 
 in my heart, though I knew he had done me in- 
 juries and was ruining Hulda's boy. I went at 
 him with my fists, expecting to knock him down, 
 but he fought like a wild beast. My foot struck 
 against something on the floor, and over we both 
 went. I had no intention of killing him, but as 
 we rolled over together I heard him cock his pistol. 
 
Beholding as in a glass. m 
 
 I knew what that meant, and grappled so close I 
 felt the cold iron touch my face. I snatched it 
 away, and just as his knife tore through my coat 
 I fired, and the ball went through his head. I 
 never hated anything so in my life. Captain, but 
 I'm not willing to be shot in my turn by, a gang 
 of blood-thirsty niggers, in revenge ; and I know 
 that's what will happen if they find me. I got 
 my money together and mounted sorrel Kate, 
 having sent Bessimer to the blacksmith's to be 
 shod, -and he not back yet. I was making for the 
 crossing to catch the train as fast as I could, but 
 as I galloped Kate fell through a hole in the 
 bridge over Coon's ford. She kicked like furies, 
 and hurt her leg so badly I knew I'd never 
 make the train on her. It's due now in ten 
 minutes. I turned her loose and came on here to 
 beg you to hide me somewhere about your premises 
 till to-morrow night, and then, as soon as it is dark, 
 you can go with me and see me off." 
 
 The tall man had a nervous chill, partly from 
 the frosty night and partly from horror at the late 
 dreadful scene in which he had been an actor. 
 
 " You must get in bed)" said Captain Lemuir. 
 " It won't do to make a fire in here." 
 
 Snow started to undress, but his host said no, 
 he had better lie down as he was and keep quiet. 
 Nobody would be apt to look for him there, and 
 he might consider himself safe. He would go to the 
 house and bring a bag of crackers and a ham for 
 rations next day. 
 
212 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 " Captain, you are mighty good to me. I'll 
 never forget you." The deep tones were husky. 
 
 " Don't speak of it, and try to get some sleep 
 now. It's not long till daybreak. At dark I'll 
 have horses ready and go with you to the cross- 
 ing, where we'll signal the train and you can get 
 on board it." 
 
 Meantime Mrs. Lemuir's sharp ears had detect- 
 ed the sound of footsteps and whispering voices. 
 She called " Hubby ! Hubby ! " repeatedly, but no 
 notice was taken, and she was fully aroused by 
 the time her husband re-entered the house. She 
 was furious when he informed her of the trust he 
 had undertaken, and declared " their house would 
 be burned for a worthless murderer that deserved 
 hanging." 
 
 " He's no more a murderer than I am, wife. I 
 wouldn't let any fellow, white or black, come on 
 my premises and beard me, and not try to defend 
 myself ; if I killed him in the scufHe I wouldn't 
 plead guilty to his death, certain." 
 
 " O, well ! that's just like you, hardhead. Our 
 house will be burned and we will be murdered, all 
 for that good-for-nothing Jack Snow ! " 
 
 " Very well, wife, if you think you are in the 
 slightest danger you can go to your Aunt Henri- 
 etta's and take the children. Jake can drive you. 
 I won't go, though, for I intend to stand by Snow 
 if I die for it." 
 
 This firmness on the part of Captain Lemuir 
 inspired her with some respect, but she persisted 
 
SEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 213 
 
 to the last moment that it was cruel for him to 
 send her away in Jake's charge. She and her 
 children would be murdered on the public road 
 by Jake (a stolid negro-boy of eighteen, with 
 thick, protruding lips and a say-nothing, do-noth- 
 ing manner of life). 
 
 Finding the captain inexorable she set out on 
 her journey to Milnville, and on the way actually 
 betrayed to Jake what Snow had done, adding 
 her condemnation in terms of greatest severity. 
 She said she " believed he was hid somewhere 
 on the premises." 
 
 The slow mind of the boy took in the idea 
 that a great wrong had been committed, and the 
 verse he had spelled out in his Sunday-school 
 paper came back to him. " He that sheddeth 
 man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." 
 He stopped at Uncle Obediah's on his way home, 
 to tell him this mighty secret that " Miss Ce- 
 lestia" had emphatically enjoined him to hide in 
 his own bosom. 
 
 Uncle Obediah was a leader of the Union 
 League, and casting about in his mind soon felt 
 that something ought to be done "wid dat white 
 men what's killed a nigger." So, toward night, 
 the air resounded with ominous horn-blowings 
 and drum-beatings at the Stanley church, a 
 famous negro meeting-house and rendezvous. 
 
 As the captain was hanging up the keys after 
 feeding time, he heard the tramp of many feet 
 and murmur of many voices. Going out on the 
 
Sl4 }SE HOLDING AS IN A GLA$S. 
 
 piazza he perceived a crowd of negroes, many of 
 them having guns and pistols. The moment was 
 a trying one. Murders, assassinations and house- 
 breakings were at that time rife. These outrages 
 were committed by colored people under the in- 
 fluence of colored carpet-baggers and ill-educated 
 colored teachers, who came among them and 
 stirred up their fervid imaginations and immature 
 minds to a species of frenzy, by holding up the 
 possibility and depicting the horrors of a re-estab- 
 lishment of slavery, to which their recollections 
 of wrongs, done in former days of vassalage, gave 
 point and power. With the rallying cry of " a 
 black man killed by a white man," no matter 
 what the provocation, they were ready for any 
 kind of riotous proceeding to which their double- 
 faced and malicious mulatto ofifice-hunters should 
 incite them. Under such circumstances they were 
 as irresponsible as a herd of wild animals. 
 
 Well aware as he was of the danger he stood 
 in from the volatile vengeance of these creatures 
 of impulse, accustomed to exploding their fury 
 on whatever came uppermost or handiest. Cap- 
 tain Lemuir went to confront them with a pipe 
 in his mouth and the serenest air of indifference. 
 
 " Well, fellows, what do you want ? " he asked, 
 taking his pipe from his lips. 
 
 A powerful mulatto desperado, with a seven- 
 shooter cocked, advanced from the crowd, and 
 replied : 
 
 " We want that d d rascal. Snow ! " 
 
bEffOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 215 
 
 "Come in and take him, then," said the Cap- 
 tain, facing the giant without the quiver of a 
 muscle. 
 
 " I will, by G " said the mulatto, and giving a 
 
 whoop he sprang through the doorway followed 
 by a horde of infuriated negroes, who rushed 
 after him with the inarticulate cries of the French 
 Furies of the Reign of Terror. They overturned 
 beds, emptied closets, broke open trunks, and 
 even took out bureau drawers, as if they thought 
 Snow might be concealed in them. Failing to 
 find him they came rushing out en masse, howl- 
 ing like wild beasts and declaring they would 
 kill Captain Lemuir if he didn't give up Snow to 
 them ; they knew he was secreted somewhere 
 about the place. 
 
 Captain Lemuir spoke to them in his easy, un- 
 excited manner. "You are foolish, my men. 
 Why should you kill me ? I've done you no harm. 
 You will get into trouble if you keep at this." 
 
 The very coolness of the quiet tones awed 
 them, and before his gaze, so imperturbable, they 
 drew back. A momentary silence ensued, then 
 the mulatto, clinching his teeth, rushed upon 
 Captain Lemuir, firing his pistol and yelling. It 
 missed fire, being knocked out of his hand by old 
 Pompey, who just then came leaping to the 
 rescue, screaming, "You fool yaller nigger!" 
 and dealing the mulatto a tremendous blow with 
 a piece of rail he had snatched from the fence ; 
 the man dropped like a log and the blood spouted. 
 
2i6 Beholding as in a glass. 
 
 " Run, Mas' Arthur, for God's sake ! " cried 
 Pompey, " take de woods, dese niggers is crazy ! " 
 But Captain Lemuir quietly bent down over the 
 fallen athlete, and with gentle touch proceeded to 
 examine his wounds. 
 
 Seeing their leader fall and the captain's humane 
 action, with that quick transition so natural to 
 the volatile negro temperament, the crowd gath- 
 ered about the captain, doing his bidding with the 
 docility of children. 
 
 Captain Lemuir had the man conveyed to his 
 cook's house, succeeded in staunching the blood, 
 and with cold water douches restored the senses 
 of the mulatto, who had only swooned. 
 
 Everything being now quiet. Captain Lemuir 
 went to the stables, saddled two horses, and led 
 them to Lamb's cabin. 
 
 " Much as I could do to stay here. Captain, 
 
 when I heard that d d crew making for the 
 
 house. By G , you've got grit. Awful glad 
 
 you come out all right 1 " 
 
 " Have a cigar?" said Captain Lemuir, changing 
 the subject. 
 
 The two gentlemen mounted, walked their 
 horses till they reached the public road, then 
 struck into a gallop. They got to the station in 
 good time for the train, and 'Snow boarded it 
 without further adventure. 
 
 Captain Lemuir then started on his return 
 journey, riding silently and thoughtfully through 
 the woods, vibrant with the tremolo of the screech- 
 
BEHOLDING AS lAT A GLASS. 217 
 
 owl and the melancholy hoot of his great-eyed 
 cousin. He was thinking of Vivia and the last 
 letter he had received from her ; a long letter full 
 of hope for the future, but drawing sad pictures 
 of the fearful scenes among the plague-stricken 
 in which she had so lately participated. He 
 thought of his sister's heroism with a thrill at 
 his heart that filled his eyes with tears. He 
 looked around on the tall trees skirting the road- 
 way. 
 
 " The rising moon iiad hid the stars, 
 Her level rays like golden bars, 
 With shadows dark between." 
 
 Whiz ! whiz ! There was a sharp sound in the 
 air, a flash of light, Lemuir's horse jumped, the 
 one he was leading broke away, and he fell to the 
 ground with a bullet in his body. 
 
 The mulatto had speedily recovered from the 
 effects of the blow given him by old Pomp, and 
 got up, saying he was "gwine home." In'stead, 
 with the instinct of a sleuth-hound, he nosed 
 around the premises, discovered both horses 
 gone, and Captain Lemuir evidently absent. 
 He easily inferred from these facts that the 
 captain had conveyed Snow to the Cross-Roads 
 to take the train. In that dark, ill-regulated 
 mind the thoughts of murder and robbery were 
 familiar. He had repeatedly been in prison and had 
 twice served terms in the penitentiary. He " would 
 kill this white man who had come between him 
 and his revenge." It would " be easy as falling 
 
2i8 Beholding as In a glass. 
 
 off a log." He would se:rete himself by the way- 
 side and " shoot him down like a dog." He 
 " hated white people anyway ; they were the 
 born foes of his race," in his dim brain ; the 
 tyrants, who, in slavery times, used the whip and 
 
 other devices of cruelty ; and " by G , he would 
 
 get even with one, if he had to send his soul to 
 h — 1 without a minute's warning." 
 
 Full of such revengeful ideas the mulatto went 
 to meet Lemuir, heard ;he tramping of the two 
 horses a mile away, and shadowing himself behind 
 a tree waited till the figure of Lemuir came in 
 sight, took deliberate aim and fired. 
 
 He saw his victim fall and instantly became 
 panic-stricken, running for the swamps over bog, 
 mud and mire, the cold sweat breaking out. He 
 buried himself deep in the darkest recesses of the 
 river bottoms, in the haunts of panthers and wild- 
 cats. His clothes were torn from his back by the 
 briers and thorns, yet still he fled, pursued by a 
 terror which imagined the baying of bloodhounds 
 and sounds of pursuers, in the crackling of dead 
 branches and the gusts of wind that swept through 
 the trees. 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 It was early in December, and the plague- 
 stricken city was as gay and alive and full of 
 movement as if no dread phantom had but lately 
 held it in its horrifying grip. Ceaseless railroad 
 trains rushing in, great palace boats panting like 
 giants and blowing deep-mouthed whistles sug- 
 gestive of submarine convulsions, all kinds of 
 street conveyances partaking of the general ce- 
 lerity of movement, and all the people walking 
 fast. At night Broad Street was ablaze with 
 lights, and the beautiful theatre was drawing 
 crowds to see Edward L. Davenport in his 
 favorite role of Hamlet. 
 
 Dr. Evans took Vivia to the second perform- 
 ance. When they returned from the theatre Miss 
 Mary Brown gave her a letter with black edges, 
 marked "important." She left the room, and 
 Vivia with trembling fingers tore it open and 
 read the following : 
 
 " I write to say if you feel any of the affection you used 
 to make such a parade of for your brother, you will come 
 home at once and help nurse him. He has been shot by 
 a negro, and the doctors say there is not much hope for 
 
220 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 him. Old Pomp, Caesar and Sam found him in the woods 
 and brought him home. I think he must have been on a 
 spree with Jack Snow or he would not have acted so fool- 
 hardy. Who is that Dr. Evans ? I never heard of him 
 before. Celestia Lemuir. 
 
 " P.S. — I'm glad to inform you that Captain Lemuir 
 got religion at a camp-meeting at Lebanon a month ago. 
 So if he dies he may go to heaven. 
 
 " P.S. 2d. — There's a letter here from your sister Mary, 
 written just after you left. She hadn't heard of your run^ 
 ning off to the city and wrote about the death of her child. 
 That's a very sickly country out there, I wouldn't live 
 there for anything. It's not worth while wasting stamps 
 to send it. I suppose you will come soon. 
 
 "P.S. 3d. — I wish you'd bring some samples of the 
 best crape and fashionable mourning goods." 
 
 Vivia never finished reading this remarkable 
 letter. As she came upon the words " shot by a 
 negro " she dropped like one dead. Dr. Evans 
 raised her tenderly, placed her on a sofa, and 
 taking some restorative from his pocket applied it 
 to her nostrils. 
 
 After a while she opened her eyes. He was 
 holding her in his arms, close to his breast. 
 
 "Do you feel better?" he asked, as her eyes 
 unclosed. 
 
 " O ! yes," she answered, starting up. " I must 
 go to brother at once. O my poor brother ! " 
 
 " You cannot go to-night," said the doctor. " I 
 will take you in the morning." 
 
 " O ! but you must not leave your work," said 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 221 
 
 Vivia. " I couldn't let you make such a sacrifice 
 for me." 
 
 " Sacrifice ! how cold and cruel that sounds ! 
 Vivia, let me love you ; let me give my life to 
 you." 
 
 The agonized face changed, as if a new light 
 flashed on it. 
 
 " Love me ! O no ! you just say so for kind- 
 ness. I thought you were my friend." Her 
 head drooped, and she looked as if about to faint 
 again. 
 
 Dr. Evans drew her to him and pressed his lips 
 to hers. 
 
 " Vivia, I love you ; don't doubt my word. 
 You know I love you. You must not refuse me." 
 
 " But I can't take in the idea," she answered. 
 " I have been adjusting myself to regard you as 
 a brother — like brother Arthur, in fact." Here her 
 self-control gave way, and sobs burst forth. Dr. 
 Evans let her sob, clasping her close and kissing 
 her hair, her streaming eyes and her lips. 
 
 There were low, murmured words, the doctor 
 told how he had kept close watch upon her during 
 the months past. He had long given up the idea 
 of marriage until he came to know her. He had 
 felt drawn to her, at their first acquaintance on 
 that journey, and she had never been entirely 
 absent from his mind since. He had often 
 thought of writing to her, and but for his engross- 
 ing professional work might have done so ; but 
 as often as the idea presented itself he dismissed 
 
222 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 it with the thought, " She has forgotten me ; she 
 may be married ; at any rate she would only set 
 me down as a romantic fool." And then like a 
 spirit answering to a thought, she had presented 
 herself to his eyes in his aunt's sick room, while 
 yet his mind was really full of her image. 
 
 " How I watched you all those terrible days 
 and nights of the pestilence ! " he whispered ; " but 
 I felt so keenly the possibility of one of us taking 
 the fever, that I tried to hide my feelings, and 
 certainly must have succeeded better than I ex- 
 pected, or you would have discovered the love 
 that filled my heart. I have never known a 
 woman like you, Vivia, my unselfish, single-hearted 
 darling." 
 
 " Strange," said Vivia, " I was sure you were 
 aware of my love. I carefully tried to conceal it, 
 but constantly it seemed to me I was in danger 
 of betraying it. But now I must go to my 
 brother. O ! I must hurry." 
 
 She released herself and started to the door. 
 
 " Get ready then," said he, " and I will come 
 for you in a carriage in one hour ; that will give 
 us time to take the 12.30 train." 
 
 "O! thank you," she said, her eyes shining; 
 but he had stepped across the room, and again 
 taking her in his arms held her in a close embrace, 
 and once more kissed her lips. 
 
 In after days the memory of that night was 
 in Vivia's mind as a light in the darkness, when 
 gn the wings of the " lightning express," h§r 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 223 
 
 lover sat by her side, and showed her his soul and 
 its triumphs and failures in the world ; and so, 
 looking into his inmost heart, she but loved him 
 more, and felt herself on the threshold of new 
 beatitudes in the happy partnership of marriage. 
 
 Very few human beings are capable of quite 
 losing sight of their own interest in their love and 
 care for others ; but here was Vivia Lemuir, a 
 woman of the most ardent temperament, with 
 ambition noble and lofty, it was true, but still with 
 fair prospects before her of succeeding in her 
 literary ventures, of becoming independent and 
 self-sustaining, and also attaining high social po- 
 sition in a city where the best element was both 
 fastidious and arbitrary. 
 
 Her reputation as a yellow-fever nurse, for 
 heroism and devotion, the high regard of Colonel 
 Loper and his family, who for some time had 
 been occupying their city home, gave her the en- 
 trance to circles where her superior intelligence, 
 originality and charm of manner, won her numer- 
 ous admirers and friends. All these advantages 
 weighed nothing when she was summoned coarsely 
 and harshly to nurse the brother, who, however 
 loving in words, yet owing to the restrictions of 
 his position, had not made her life in his house a 
 comfortable nor happy one. 
 
 Her very disinterestedness, however, had al- 
 ready won its own exceeding great reward, call- 
 ing forth from Dr. Evans (a man remarkable for 
 reticence and reserve) an avowal of the love he 
 
224 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 might otherwise have kept hidden in his own 
 breast ; for having had experience of deceit in 
 woman, he was slow to subject himself to what, 
 as his skeptical mind suggested, might be " only 
 shamming." Well as he loved Vivia, there was 
 something so delightful in the brotherly and 
 mentorial relationship they had fallen into, he so 
 enjoyed her sisterly confidences and the earnest- 
 ness of her endeavors in her vocation as copyist, 
 letter-writer and litterateur, that he was loth to 
 change all these delicious currents. 
 
 To the sorrow of the kind Jones family, Vivia 
 settled her bill without a positive promise of return, 
 left a letter for Colonel Loper, stating that she 
 would not be able to work for the " Messenger" 
 while her brother needed her, and departed, es- 
 corted by Dr. Evans. 
 
 The journey, in spite of Dr. Evans's care, was 
 a sad one. The poor girl was exhausted, almost 
 ill with the various emotions she had gone through. 
 
 When they arrived . she quickly got out of the 
 carriage, left Dr. Evans at the gate, passed the 
 children playing in the yard and hurried into the 
 house. On a bed in the middle of the big sitting- 
 room lay the brother, whom she last recollected 
 bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked, lithe and strong, now 
 worn, haggard, helpless, but with ^ a wonderful 
 patience in the deep eyes, and a welcoming smile 
 that fairly lighted up the suffering, seamed face. 
 
 " O ! Vivia ; how glad I am to see you ! " he 
 said, as she knelt down beside him. Her tears, 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 225 
 
 held back all day, came in a torrent ; but a cold, 
 satirical voice saying, " Who is that coming in, 
 Vivia ? Why can't you behave like a woman of 
 sense?" dammed up the tide of feeling like a 
 stone barrier. Turning, she calmly named the 
 gentleman to Captain Lemuir, and, as he paused 
 on the piazza, went out to him and escorted him 
 in. 
 
 " Dr. Evans, Mrs. Lemuir, my brother, Captain 
 Lemuir." 
 
 • Vivia and her sister-in-law left the room, and, 
 in the privacy of the bedroom, had their talk out. 
 On learning that this fine gentleman, evidently a 
 man of means and position, was to be the hus- 
 band of her once despised sister-in-law, Mrs. Le- 
 muir's feelings underwent a great change, which 
 at once became apparent in her voice and manner. 
 She adopted a confidential and respectful tone with 
 Vivia, and did all in her power to be most kind and 
 deferential to Dr. Evans. In her strong desire to 
 do honor to this embodiment of gentility, she 
 begged him to hold a consultation with Dr. Liv- 
 ingstone who was in charge of the captain's case. 
 
 In brief, Mrs. Lemuir evidently understood the 
 art of trimming her sails, and taking advantage of 
 the tide. Vivia could hardly believe her the same 
 person. 
 IS 
 
226 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LETTER TO VIVIA. 
 
 Heidelberg, Germany, 
 
 November — i8 — . 
 
 My dear Vivia : — 
 
 After long silence your letter came to me, like 
 the rosy beams that suffuse the sky when the sun 
 is about to rise. You sweet thing! you great- 
 little woman ! You have acted as I knew you 
 would when circumstances should call for it — laid 
 down your life to save others ; for this was what 
 it truly was ; and now you are reaping your just 
 reward. I hope you will win a glorious reputa- 
 tion as a journalist ; you couldn't have a better 
 preceptor in the art than Colonel Loper. He is a 
 man I have always admired, and his mighty " Mes- 
 senger" has been the guiding star of the people of 
 the middle-west. Poor child ! when I think of 
 what you have suffered, and of your brightening 
 present, my heart sings a paean of joy and thanks- 
 giving. 
 
 On my part I have wonderful news to tell you 
 about Artemesia. Such a " come-out " as is in 
 that girl almost amounts to a miracle. She is a 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 227 
 
 remarkable girl in character, and gratitude is its 
 strong point. From the time our journey began 
 she was devotedly considerate of me, the very 
 best of waiting-maids ; so thoughtful, so quick to 
 learn, so mutely gentle. On ship-board she made 
 herself absolutely necessary to aunt, who soon 
 claimed as much of her attention as myself. It 
 was therefore easy to get my idea of having a 
 surgical operation performed on her into aunt's 
 head. She persuaded uncle, and about the time 
 that ponderous gentleman had got his bearings 
 in Heidelberg, he mooted the question to Herr 
 Ehrich, a professor in the University. He said it 
 was practicable, and he would undertake to rec- 
 tify the deformity of the hare-lip, by a surgical 
 operation, if the girl would agree to let him ex- 
 periment on her hypnotically before the students 
 of the University. 
 
 Artemesia joyfully consented, and she and I 
 went one morning for a private interview with the 
 Herr. He lives in one of those queer old houses 
 on the Hauptgasse, but a short walk from the 
 University buildings, which are plain and ugly. 
 He is an old bachelor, a perfect devotee to science, 
 and reminded me of the pictures of Santa Claus. 
 
 He peered closely at Mezy through his glasses, 
 taking out his pipe for a moment, while his face 
 was close enough to the poor girl's to have kissed 
 her. 
 
 She has an armor of protection in her lack of 
 consciousness. She submitted herself to his hands 
 
228 Beholding as in a glass. 
 
 like a little child, with just as great docility and 
 quietude. 
 
 As you have such a keen sense of humor 
 (which you long ago, I'm sure, must have dis- 
 covered is located fast by the fountain of tears), 
 you will know that it was not hard-heartedness 
 that amused me so as I listened to the old pro- 
 fessor's grunting exclamations, while he examined 
 Mezy's mouth. They were in German, but I have 
 almost completely mastered the language since I 
 came, having had very good teachers previously 
 in America, so I understood him ; and my eyes 
 twinkled with the fun of it. He soon found that 
 I knew what he was saying, though to Mezy it 
 was an unknown tongue. He was much pleased, 
 and expressed himself freely in German, when it 
 would have been very trippingly done in English. 
 The Germans, even the best scholars among them, 
 do make the poorest work of talking English ; 
 they confuse words and tenses in a way that 
 almost makes me die with laughing. 
 
 The upshot of the interview was that Herr 
 Ehrich put Mezy into the hypnotic traiice. As it 
 would be necessary to use the knife, he thought 
 this better, safer and easier than chloroform. 
 
 Mezy proved a wonderfully good subject of 
 hypnotism. That very first morning he put her 
 to sleep by a few passes ; and from that time on 
 he would throw her into the hypnotized state 
 whenever he saw her. His experiments were 
 very interesting to us, and ended in aunt's insist- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 229 
 
 ing on trying hypnotism for relief from her terrible 
 headaches. 
 
 When Mezy was hypnotized, she was completely 
 under the Herr's control. He influenced her 
 tastes, could make her sip water under the im- 
 pression it was ■ wine, take tea for coffee ; and 
 when in the magnetic state her hands would 
 follow his as if they were veritable magnets. 
 
 On the day appointed for the operation, Mezy 
 was so nervous and pale that I wanted it put off ; 
 but she was firm ; and once in the presence of 
 Herr Ehrich, seem to lose all fear. His power over 
 the girl showed itself in the color that came back 
 into her face at his touch, and the resolute quiet- 
 ude that succeeded her nervousness. She sur- 
 rendered herself to the preparation with the sweet 
 confidence of a little child. Very soon she showed 
 the usual signs of being hypnotized ; that is, she 
 lay motionless, her eyelids with their fringed 
 lashes resting on her smooth cheek, and when the 
 Herr drew them apart the ball appeared sHghtly 
 convulsed and turned up in the socket, the lid 
 seeming to have no contractile power. I could 
 also place her hands where I would, and they 
 would remain in that position as inflexibly as if 
 they were dead. The Herr then operated with 
 great rapidity, a piece of flesh being inserted in 
 the place where the incision was made. 
 
 The girl manifested no more sensibility than a 
 corpse, and when aroused out of her hypnotic 
 state showed by her whole demeanor that she had 
 
230 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 no knowledge of what had passed ; but Herr 
 Ehrich didn't let her remain in ignorance, assuring 
 his ' young beauty,' as he called her, that time 
 would erase all marks of her deformity save a 
 scar, whereat Mezy threw her arms around his 
 neck demonstratively. 
 
 I thought she looked upon him as a father, and 
 was only showing her gratitude, but subsequently 
 found that this young, fair creature, only seven- 
 teen, is really in love with Herr Ehrich, and. has 
 readily given her promise to marry him in a year. 
 It seems very ridiculous, but that there is some 
 wonderful attraction drawing them together, no 
 one can doubt who sees the twain. They appear 
 happily absorbed, and Mezy seems unable to 
 understand why any one should think it queer 
 for her to love one who is, to her, the embodi- 
 ment of a gracious Providence. Yet when I see 
 the slight, girlish figure, her beautiful arms around 
 his neck, his fat yellow fingers carressing her rich 
 rings of hair, I'm reminded of those splendid 
 crimson and orange blossoms of the cowitch 
 vine, covering old stumps in our fields at home. 
 
 We are all so charmed, so utterly carried away 
 with this beautiful old Heidelberg, which the 
 people call the Pearl of the Palatinate. I visit 
 the Gluckra Thurm again and again ; the old 
 woman who lights us through the subterranean 
 chambers of the castle is getting rich off my 
 pennies. I have kodaked the ruined tower, the 
 ancient portal of the Otto-Henry building. On 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 23 1 
 
 the gabling of the lower row of windows in this 
 building are the heads of distinguished Romans, 
 Antoninus Pius, Mark Antony, Numa Pompil- 
 ius and others. The interior is gone, and only 
 defaced statues, broken sculptures and crumbling 
 columns bear witness to what used to be. Lead- 
 ing to the Gluckra Thurm, or bell-tower, is an 
 ancient stairway, and up here is a nook from 
 which one can see all over the most magnificent 
 ruin in Europe, besides the lovely view of the 
 Pearl of the Palatinate, with its shining river 
 necklace ; beyond it we see the plain of the 
 Rhine, and rising about us and above us the 
 mountain heights, notably Molkenkur and Konig- 
 stuhl. We follow the Kassemattengang to the 
 Kraut-thurm, or cabbage tower, formerly a powder 
 magazine, part of which now lies in the outer en- 
 trenchment, its ruins entwisted with tree roots, 
 moss and ferns. As we sat here one day, Mezy 
 and I, a party of our compatriots came in — noisy 
 Americans, some of whom had manners which 
 made me blush for my countrymen. But two 
 redeemed the rest ; a gentleman with a face as 
 pure and noble as it was handsome. As he raised 
 his hat he showed a head which was Shakespeare's 
 own, and nothing could have been sweeter than 
 the care he took of his delicate little wife, about 
 the size of Mrs. Browning. With these two I 
 fell into conversation, and found they were from 
 that lovely southern section of our country where 
 my mother was reared. Something of its subtle 
 
232 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 romance seemed to clothe this couple, and I was 
 sorry when they left me to join the rest of their 
 party, in the carriages drawn up in the outer court- 
 yard. 
 
 The students, whose sabre-slashed faces we are 
 constantly encountering on the streets, some- 
 times hold revels in one of the renovated subter- 
 ranean halls. I saw the cedar festoons they had 
 hung there, and the rude, temporary tables where 
 they had feasted. 
 
 I learned through a letter from my father of 
 poor Ted's having become heir to a nice little 
 property. My father says, " You will now see what 
 an idle spendthrift he will prove ; his industry has 
 been owing to the spur of poverty. I am con- 
 fident he has no business qualities, and that he 
 would never be the husband I want my dearest 
 daughter to marry." Time will show who is right, 
 my father or I. Meantime I dread the effects 
 in this way. Teddie's pride was dreadfully 
 wounded because I would not elope with him, 
 and I know he paid attention to other girls to 
 pique me. Elma has written me that she was 
 amusing herself with my " cast-offs," but I fear 
 when she finds Ted has money she will turn jest 
 to earnest. She is one who considers the name 
 of old maid a deadly blight, whereas I begin to 
 associate it with the Roman Vestals, and consider 
 the virgin estate the best of all for the culture of 
 wisdom, purity and sincerity. But why should I 
 go out of my way to meet sorrow ? I will leave 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 233 
 
 my poor Ted in the hands of my Heavenly Father, 
 and pray every day that he may be kept in the 
 hour of temptation. 
 
 How I wish you were here with me, my dear 
 Vivia, to enjoy these quaint relics of the by-gone, 
 Peter's Church and the Church of the Holy Ghost. 
 Heidelberg is a pearl truly. 
 
 The Germans almost live out of doors, you 
 know, and whole families go in company to " sit 
 unter der Linden." That old Professor Ehrich, out 
 of college, is always in pursuit of music, and, with 
 his pipe in his mouth, haunts the gardens. Mezy 
 is yet wearing bandages, but he insists that she 
 shall walk with us and go up to Molkenkur and 
 Konegebulh by the cog railway. She is not sick, 
 he says, and the pleasant sights and sweet airs are 
 full of healing. So we go, and even Aunt Lalla 
 is taking on stock and stamina, in this pearl of 
 cities. 
 
 I like the manner in which the memory of great 
 women is honored here. Jetta, the seeress'of 
 Jettenbulh, Clara Tetten, or Tott, rising from 
 her washing tub to be consort of Frederic the 
 Victorious, and last, but not least, Olympia Tullra 
 Morata, the great woman-linguist of 1556, to 
 whom there is a monument. 
 
 Yours sincerely. 
 
 Noisette Miln. 
 
234 BEHOLblNd AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 a letter from sister mary to vivia. 
 
 My dear " Bit of Sweet Marjoram " : — 
 
 I am so thankful at your escape from the yellow 
 fever, and at your finding friends and securing a 
 comfortable position in that afflicted city to which 
 your sympathetic heart led you. My health is, to 
 a certain extent, re-established, and the boys and 
 Laura are quite well. Dear Laura, my good 
 angel, has been going through some interesting 
 experiences lately. Of all odd men Calhoun Lo- 
 gan strikes me as being the oddest ; yet I like 
 him very much, and do hope to see Laura his 
 wife, for I have confidence in his goodness and 
 integrity of heart, and I would like to see such a 
 superior woman as she in a situation to use all 
 her executive ability. 
 
 As long as Mrs. Wilde was in the country, Cal- 
 houn's feelings were in a torn-up state. He was 
 attracted by the dashing widow, who just escaped 
 being fast, yet Laura always attracted him, though 
 in a different way. Finally Mrs. Wilde left with- 
 out bringing him to her feet ; and the minute she 
 was out of sight her power was at an end. Then 
 to see his slow siege of Laura, and his queer little 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 235 
 
 devices to satisfy himself, without raising any- 
 body's suspicions as to her age, general habits, 
 faith and practice, was to me very funny. To 
 find out if her teeth were natural, he insisted on 
 her cracking with them some nuts he brought her ; 
 and one evening, taking her on a horseback ride, 
 he was so persistent in having her hair flow loose 
 that she took off her cap and let it fall about her 
 shoulders. 
 
 But she held her own gallantly. She was quite 
 willing to give him every assurance of her gen- 
 uineness, but he must also solve some doubts of 
 hers as to his views before she would allow him 
 to come nearer than a pleasant friend. 
 
 The subject on which she felt most deeply was 
 woman's equality, and her right to a voice in the 
 government. She made a point of bringing for- 
 ward her opinions on this matter, whatever else 
 they might be discussing, on every occasion. 
 
 I was so amused at her strenuous insistence on 
 women's rights, in the face of the gentleman's 
 amazement at its first introduction, and the gradual 
 weakening of his resistance, as the force of her 
 arguments overturned the fragile breastworks he 
 threw up in a rather excited and futile way. 
 
 But though I laughed,! could not, to save me, 
 help agreeing with Laura, and began to wonder 
 that I, too, had not been an original woman suf- 
 fragist. I will merely indicate to you the general 
 drift of her argument, which she generally pre- 
 faced by asking Calhoun questions ; as, for in- 
 
236 BEHOLDING AS IN A CLASS. 
 
 stance, " Don't we call this government demo- 
 cratic ? What does that mean except, as you say, 
 a government by the people ? Yet it is not, for are 
 not women people ? and yet they have not a voice 
 in it. Where is the consistency of excluding 
 them from what concerns their personal protec- 
 tion and property rights as closely as man's ? If 
 I pay taxes to maintain the government, where is 
 the justice of excluding me from representation 
 by my vote ? " 
 
 " But," objects Calhoun (who is equally strenu- 
 ous about Laura's religious orthodoxy, as she about 
 his soundness on the woman question), " you know, 
 Mrs. Dorsey, that the Bible says of the woman, 
 ' Thy desire shall be to thy husband and he shall 
 rule over thee.' " 
 
 " Mr. Logan, that is simply a prediction — note 
 the shall — it has come to pass long ago. Look at 
 the state of woman in the barbarous ages. But 
 when civilization illumines the soul of man, and 
 better still, when the religion of Christ rules in his 
 heart, he can no more rule over his wife than he 
 can get drunk and swear and still be a Christian. 
 Where love is each strives to outdo the other in 
 effacing self ; but that is very far removed from 
 the tyrannical spirit which exacts servile obedience 
 from a wife." 
 
 " But what about ' love, honor and obey ' in the 
 marriage service, Mrs. Dorsey ? " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Logan, my honest sentiment is 
 that whenever a woman promises to obey a man, 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 237 
 
 she either does it in ignorance of what is implied, 
 or she stultifies herself. No woman of mature 
 sense can afford to blindly promise to obey another 
 person, and that is what a man is, another person, 
 not a superior, not a master. Those who make 
 that promise always break it, except the happy 
 women who marry men so noble that they will 
 not exact nor expect obedience. Just think of 
 the married women you know, who, by hook or by 
 crook, have their own way ! Some women revolt 
 openly, but more resort to subterfuge. Being as 
 it is an incentive to vice, I truly think ' obey ' 
 should be left out of the marriage service." 
 
 " You may be right," said Calhoun, though I 
 never looked at it in that light before ; but I have 
 often thought one of the chief curses of slavery 
 was in the habit of lying it gave rise to. This 
 was so universal that a negro's word was not taken 
 in court. Certainly, unconditional obedience puts 
 a woman in the attitude of a slave, and fosters 
 falsehood, too, I reckon." 
 
 Calhoun returned to this subject again and 
 again, always tentatively, always more and more 
 with a growing conviction of the justice of Laura's 
 views. Finally one evening when he had come 
 over to ask us to go out to look at a very mag- 
 nificent display of the aurora borealis, he said to 
 me in Laura's hearing : " I have been studying up 
 the question of woman's rights and I have decided 
 that when I ask a woman to marry me I shall not 
 ask her to obey." About nine o'clock, it being 
 
238 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 cold and frosty, but clear, we three, wrapping up 
 well and with Jeff along, trudged out to Flint 
 Rock Spring hill. You recollect how high it is 
 there, and what a beautiful view of the surround- 
 ing country ? 
 
 Calhoun, I presently discovered, was in an ex- 
 alted state of mind, and such phrases as " Morn- 
 ing of the north flushing the sky like God's awful 
 rose of dawn," " Aurora blushing beautifully 
 against the white bosom of the orient horizon," 
 or " flaming peaks shooting upward to the zenith, 
 with lines of silver intervening, glowing crimson 
 like white lava surging up from a volcano's mouth," 
 resonantly uttered by him, warned me of other 
 currents lower down. Not wishing to be a nega- 
 tive pole in the battery, I complained of the biting 
 night air and excused myself and Jefifie, begging 
 them to stay and enjoy the glorious and unusual 
 sight a while longer, and hurried home. 
 
 When they got through their heavenward 
 gazing and came in, he stayed so long I almost fin- 
 ished my whole week's mending ; but at last he 
 left, and Laura came to me, just as I expected. 
 He had laid his hand and fortune at her feet, but 
 in that stilted way that made Laura loth' to pick 
 him up. She made all kinds of objections, told 
 him her health wasn't good enough to marry ; 
 that she thought his feelings vjere not of such an 
 ardent nature but that he might transfer them to 
 some other more attractive person ; but the more 
 coyness and disinclination she exhibited, the more 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 239 
 
 eager he became, until, eventually, he pleaded so 
 genuinely that she could not resist the strong ad- 
 vocate she found in his favor in her own heart. 
 
 The upshot of the matter was, Laura agreed to 
 marry him some time this winter, and they will 
 take a bridal tour to the City by the Sea, and 
 return to board with me until they can build a 
 home in which she, Calhoun says, shall put her 
 own ideas into practical shape. 
 
 It looks to me as if there might be a great deal 
 more for you to tell me about your experiences in 
 the plague-stricken city. I feel as if we had been 
 parted for years ; and I hope you will make up 
 your mind to come and pay me a long visit, or, 
 better still, return and let us be together the rest 
 of our lives. 
 
 You know, Vivia, you are child and sister 
 both to me, so do come home. 
 
 Your devoted sister, 
 
 Marv. 
 
240 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 LETTER TO ZETTA FROM VIVIA. 
 
 My DEAR ZeTTA : — 
 
 I received, yesterday, yours of the loth ult., and 
 was so inspired by it that I went through the ex- 
 periences it embodied in the dreams that disturbed 
 my fitful snatches of slumber last night. We are 
 having a more forward spring than last, which I 
 trust may be more favorable to brother, though 
 at present he is having chills and is very weak. 
 Poor Dr. Livingstone is down with a paralytic 
 stroke, so we've had to send for Dr. Gunger, a 
 man in whom I have no confidence, so mouthy, 
 ignorant and conceited. He called another doctor, 
 a good deal younger than himself, in consultation. 
 Ludden can't write a half-dozen lines decently, 
 and his errors in spelling and grammar are such 
 as one would look for in a half-grown boy. I 
 would rather have no one than risk the malpractice 
 of such boobies, but Sister Celestia seems much 
 impressed with Gunger, and always has a long 
 talk with him when he comes. Brother is so 
 good and patient— too good, indeed, to ever get 
 his dues in this world. There are sq many 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 241 
 
 selfish, pushing people, who always get the better 
 of those like him, yet never hand was stretched 
 forth more eagerly to help humanity than his. 
 No creature is too low to be beneath his courtesy. 
 I've seen him step out of his path rather than 
 crush a worm. Last Sunday poor Ted spent 
 the day with us, helping me take care of brother 
 with such womanly tact I thought more kindly 
 of him than ever. He amused us all with his 
 gay stories and lively sallies. You know he is 
 quite a favorite with Sister Celestia, so when, after 
 dinner, he asked her to take charge of our patient, 
 and give me leave to take a walk with him, she 
 acquiesced with good grace. 
 
 I got my hat and we strolled down by the river. 
 Teddy surprised me by his confidential tone. He 
 began by expressing his warm regard for me, his 
 admiration of my " heroism," as he called it, and 
 his belief in my discretion. 
 
 "You hear me running on," he said, "with so 
 much nonsense. Miss Vivia, I suppose you imagine 
 I have no serious thought. But I'm older than 
 I look, and feel more than I can express. Ever 
 since I remember anything Cousin Zetta has been 
 the best part of my life. I love her more than 
 anybody in this world, and always shall, notwith- 
 standing she gave me up at her father's bidding 
 because he thought me a ne'er-do-well. I know I 
 was and am yet, though I've fallen heir to some 
 money. With her for a wife I believe all my 
 better nature would have developed, for sh$ wa§ 
 
242 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 ' Rose of all the world ' to me. I was desperate 
 when I lost her, and to pique her whom I really 
 loved, engaged myself to Elma. I'm sorry. Miss 
 Vivia, for my folly. Could I back out of it with 
 the least honor I would, but I see no way. Elma 
 makes fun of every good impulse. She laughs at 
 love, which she calls ' the last ignominy of little 
 minds,' and religion the ' hypocrisy of fools and 
 bigots, a kind of shin-plaster currency resorted to 
 in the absence of sterling change.' " 
 
 I would not tell you this, Zetta, this confidential 
 unburdening of a wounded spirit, but for the sad 
 event which has since occurred, and of which you 
 must inevitably hear speedily. As things have 
 turned out I thought it might comfort you to 
 know Teddy's true feelings, and his forebodings of 
 the future in store for himself. I told him what 
 I thought of love and marriage, and, in his gallant 
 way, he said he knew I was right. He drew from 
 his breast-pocket a photograph of you, which, with 
 a lock of your hair, he kept in a large envelope. 
 He kissed the mementoes frequently and said, " I 
 shall have to burn these the day I'm married." 
 
 When we returned to the house he uttered his 
 adieus in a subdued tone, and left hurriedly. Alas ! 
 poor Teddy ! On Wednesday news came of his 
 death, one of those terrible gin accidents that are 
 so often occurring in the cotton country. I can- 
 not tell you the particulars, only that in the 
 detention of the man by sickness who attended 
 to the gin, Teddy, with his customary energy, 
 
SEtrolhMG AS m a 6lass. 24.^ 
 
 undertook to carry on the work, got his hand and 
 arm caught in the machinery, was severely cut and 
 mangled, and died from loss of blood and the 
 shock. They say he bore his sufferings with 
 heroic fortitude, but there were no loving arms to 
 embrace him in those last agonies. Elma did not 
 go near him, and now that I can think calmly 
 over it, I see how much better it is that poor Ted 
 should have died than to have lived to be yoked 
 in a loveless marriage. 
 
 The negro that shot brother has escaped from 
 jail, where he lay awaiting transportation to the 
 penitentiary. Brother says he is very glad. He 
 does not want him punished, says he would freely 
 supply him with money to get finally away. Is 
 not this the spirit of him who prayed " Father 
 forgive them, they know not what they do ? " 
 
 I send you by this mail a photograph of my 
 affianced. I cannot tell you how happy he makes 
 me ; even his beauty is a source of joy. I love to 
 look at the curve of his exquisite lips and the 
 grandeur of his splendid head. He brought me 
 the whole six photographs he had taken, saying it 
 seemed a piece of folly to him to sit at all, but he 
 had done it to gratify me ; so I will give or lend 
 you this. You can return it to me, if you want to, 
 when you come home. I tell Dr. Evans we can't 
 get married till you come, so don't let it be too 
 long. 
 
 Your loving friend, 
 
 ViVIA Lemuie, 
 
244 BEItOLtlING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ViviA and her brother were alone, with the ex- 
 ception of Gabriella, who ran in now and then 
 from her play to get "AuntViv" to adjust some- 
 thing about her dolly which the small fingers were 
 not equal to fixing. Mrs. Lemuir had gone to 
 Cheowah-town, taking the boy with her. Captain 
 Lemuir was able to walk a few steps with assist- 
 ance, and had been made comfortable on a lounge 
 near the window. Vivia was busy with a large 
 basket of mending, sitting in her low chair, now 
 darning a stocking or putting a patch in some rent 
 garment belonging to one of the children. 
 
 " Sissie," said Lemuir, " what a strange little 
 woman you are ; " and he regarded her with a 
 loving kind of scrutiny as if trying to discover the 
 mystery of her make-up. 
 
 " Now what is it, brother, my nose or my eyes 
 or my ears? how am I so strange? I know 
 I'm peculiar looking, but — Dr. Evans loves me ! " 
 She blushed. 
 
 " O ! only in having no curiosity. I remember 
 Celestia wrote you that I had got religion. Now 
 you have never asked the when, nor the why, nor 
 the wherefore of my getting it." 
 
-iBEHOLDINa AS IN A GLASS. ,24^ 
 
 " Well, brother," taking her hands from her face 
 and scrutinizing his in turn, " I thought you 
 would tell me in your own good time." 
 
 " I never have, and never could, I think, entertain 
 the common anthropomorphous ideas of Deity," 
 said Captain Lemuir, " which some people so 
 flippantly express ; seeming to regard the Almighty 
 as a mere man of unusual proportions and estate, 
 subject to the same passions of revenge and change- 
 able purpose as the weakest mortal ; but I believe 
 in the goodness and greatness of the all-pervading 
 Mind which dominates matter, and adjusts the 
 balance wheels and machinery of this wonderful 
 phenomena we call nature. I can think of heaven 
 as a place of light, where the powers of darkness 
 undo their fetters from the freed soul, giving it 
 power to rise into a purer atmosphere, to uncon- 
 ceivable heights of wisdom and exaltation. It is 
 my confident anticipation, sister,that when I get rid 
 o-f this almost helpless body, my spirit shall live on, 
 and you and I will see one another again. I even 
 think I may be near you, sometimes, while you 
 are still in the flesh, and I a disembodied spirit. 
 Now that sounds strange after the theories with 
 which I used to perplex you, but listen patiently, 
 and you shall see what grounds I have for my 
 change of views. 
 
 " When you went away from me my world be- 
 came dark ; I was like one let loose in an empty 
 place. O ! the mad yearning for the voice I heard no 
 more, your voice, that had had such power to move 
 
246 &EkOtt>mG As tN A GLASS. 
 
 me to laughter or tears. I could think of nothing 
 but the light of your eyes, the light that had 
 brimmed over in mirth, or wit, or tender feeling ! 
 Your sayings came back to me at every turn, 
 those witty, quaint sayings of yours, so different 
 from anybody else's in this world ; and to say I 
 longed to see you is a mere verbiage, that quite 
 fails to tell how my whole soul was absorbed and 
 how wretched I became. My wife constantly told 
 me I was going crazy, for I ate nothing scarcely, 
 was absolutely silent, and went about my business 
 like an automaton. My peculiar mental state had 
 its phenomenon. 
 
 " You recollect it was some time after you went 
 to Melita before I heard from you. The first 
 letter I had was fifteen days old when I got it ; it 
 had lain at Els Bluff for fumigation, I think, and 
 my fixed idea was that you were dead of the yel- 
 low fever. One night I was more nervous than 
 usual, restless with an anguish that would not be 
 still. I walked in the darkness for hours, and came 
 back chilled and more miserable than ever, to lie 
 down, but not to sleep. You recollect my faculty 
 for sleeping ; but now I had lost it, and hardly 
 slept soundly at all. In the darkest hour of the 
 night, just before dawn, I fell into a maze of 
 dreams ; and the last was no dream, but a waking 
 vision. I seemed to leave my bed and make a 
 journey through space, arriving at length in a 
 room through whose dim light every object ap- 
 peared as clear as though the electric light flashed 
 
^EtiOLDim AS lif A CLASS. 24}) 
 
 upon it. A man lay asleep and you sat by him, 
 your hands folded, a dreamy look on your face, 
 but no sign of illness in figure or countenance. 
 Just as I made an effort to embrace you the dream 
 fled, and I was at home in my old place. Now of 
 course I know that the dream was simply a phase 
 of natural somnambulism. My condition had be- 
 come clairvoyant, as a result of extreme nervous- 
 ness. But from that day to this I have never 
 doubted a hereafter, seeing that my soul existed 
 even for so brief a while independently of my body. 
 A God-flash of consciousness, rather than any 
 subtility of reasoning, convinced me that souls, 
 unlike bodies, are immortal ; not living again in 
 grass and flowers, only, but in a higher state. For- 
 give me, sister, for ever having cast a shadow on 
 your pure faith. Yes, as my wife says, I think I 
 have ' got religion,' though as firmly as ever I be- 
 lieve God has established laws by which life is 
 maintained ; and as stones, plants and elements 
 are controlled by these, so are individuals, states 
 and nations, with the difference that, as in the for- 
 mer, attraction and affinity are the controlling in- 
 fluences, so, in the latter, principles, motives and 
 affections sway. Righteousness, or right-doing is 
 the natural source of harmony, progress and or- 
 ganization ; charity, a large component of right- 
 doing (I love the word), keeps peace ; patience, 
 another essential, prevents bloodshed, and hu- 
 manity makes man noble. The operations of 
 reason and moral power are the spinal cords of 
 
248 SeHOLDING as in a GtASk 
 
 our kinship with God, and He has established a 
 medium of communication in prayer. I used to 
 laugh at your prayers, dear Vivia, can you for- 
 give me ? " 
 
 Vivia could not speak. She kissed her brother's 
 hand. 
 
 " God is love, sister. He has provided for the 
 ultimate good of all His creatures. My views of 
 Providence are very little changed. The same 
 power that made laws for the government of the 
 universe can, of course, change those laws and 
 make the ' sun stand still ' in the valley of Ajalon, 
 or rain bread from heaven to feed His famishing 
 people, or, which is the same thing, put it in the 
 hearts of men to succor their suffering fellows ; 
 but the age of miracles has gone with the object it 
 subserved, the proof of our Lord's divinity. And 
 now, though I must believe ' all things work to- 
 gether for good to those who love God,' yet He 
 does not exempt any from the action of the nat- 
 ural laws He has established. I do not think He 
 directed the bullet that laid me low, nor that He 
 took away poor Mrs. Pryor's darling child ; she 
 was neither ' lent nor taken.' These are figures of 
 speech that, to my idea, reflect upon the divine 
 plan. A child is born in the course of nature and 
 dies in the same way, only life may be shortened 
 by some violation of nature's laws. God did not 
 scourge the city of Melita with yellow fever, 
 nor had the sins of the people anything to do with 
 its introduction ; a quantity of bedding and car- 
 
SEffOLDIN& AS IN A GLASS. 249 
 
 pets full of yellow-fever microbes were brought 
 there by some ignoramuses that knew nothing of 
 the risk they were running, and encountered no 
 local quarantine. Right there laid the sins of the 
 people in their ignorance of sanitary laws, and 
 their neglect of all precautions." 
 
 " They were certainly the kindest, most gen- 
 erous people I have ever lived among," said Vivia. 
 " Unselfishness and devotion was the rule, rather 
 than the exception." 
 
 " I dare say they are as good as any people in 
 the world, and thgir sufferings, instead of being 
 God's scourge, were the result of the pestilential 
 atmosphere they breathed. Look how many we 
 know who have been the noblest of mankind, who 
 took the fever and died with it. As for me, my dar- 
 ling sister, let this assurance comfort you if I 
 finally succumb to a congestive chill: we shall 
 meet again, I know. As Mary exultantly ex- 
 claimed, ' He is risen ! He is risen ! ' so I believe 
 and trust in the resurrection. As to fear of death 
 I have none. To me it shall be the entrance on 
 endless progress in knowledge and happiness, a 
 deliverance from many perplexities, the futile con- 
 templation, the bitterness of my life's mistake. 
 Then the faculties only partially developed in this 
 world shall be perfected when I come to myself 
 among the spirits, laying aside this clogging bodily 
 apparatus. God has forgiven my sins, sister, He 
 wills us to be happy." 
 
 " O ! brother, how can I give you up ? my heart 
 
Sjo ikttdtbwd as M a dZASs. 
 
 bleeds at the thought of parting ; " and Vivia's 
 tears streamed. 
 
 " We will be reunited, dear, not in a realm of in- 
 finite shadows, but in a clime 
 
 " Invested with purpureal gleams of brightest day, 
 An ampler ether, a diviner air." 
 
BEHOLDING AS JN A CLASS. 251 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Spring was coming with buoyant footstep ; 
 the air was full of the fresh aroma which mother 
 earth yields to her most promising season, the 
 willow buds were swelling, the maples reddening 
 the sides of water-courses, birds and insects filling 
 the air with songs and hum, grass growing green 
 along the ditches, and in the most shaded spots 
 wild violets were blooming. 
 
 On a fair May day Vivia sat by her brother and 
 described the walk she had taken, how. the dog- 
 wood was powdering the tender green of the 
 woods with vernal snows, how the buckeye shot 
 up crimson spikes of bloom, and the red bud sim- 
 ulated the peach with its mass of purplish-pink 
 flowers. And she had brought a cluster of pip- 
 sissewa with wax-like white blooms, and leaves 
 like begonia rex, to give him. In the midst of 
 Vivia's enthusiastic descriptions Dr. Gunger's 
 road-cart stopped at the gate, and simultaneously 
 Mrs. Lemuir came and took her seat by the bed, 
 and the fan from Vivia's hands. 
 
 " Your hair needs attention, Vivia, and if I were 
 you I'd change my dress," said the sister-in-law, 
 in very considerate tones. 
 
252 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 Dr. Gunger looked at the patient and felt his 
 pulse. 
 
 " I think in a few days now he'll be on his feet, 
 Mrs. Lemuir, if we can just stave off the chills ; 
 but see to it that he gets his quinine regularly. 
 Much depends on that. You can give him one- 
 eighth of a grain of morphine if he seems restless 
 or disinclined to sleep. You know so well how to 
 give the powders, Miss Vivia," he said to the girl, 
 who had now returned. " I ain't no time to meas- 
 ure them out. I'm in a great hurry, sent for to 
 a child that has drunk a quart of kerosene. But 
 you can divide them, I know. The quinine is in a 
 blue paper, the morphine in a yellow one. Now 
 don't let the captain have another backset, Mrs. 
 Lemuir ; " and the doctor, taking up his medicine- 
 chest, bowed himself out. 
 
 That afternoon Mrs. Lemuir insisted on Vivia's 
 going for another walk. She would attend to 
 giving the medicines ; indeed, there was not much 
 to give nor much to do, now the captain was so 
 much better. 
 
 Who could guess at the thoughts of that wily 
 mind and smouldering vindictiveness in that hour 
 so pregnant of evil ? There was a dull sense of 
 disappointment, of having been thwarted of the 
 bright and varied perspective to which an ac- 
 cidental meeting with Billy Baldwin, the lover of 
 her youth, had inspired her. She looked upon the 
 shrunken figure on the bed with a feeling of hav- 
 ing been defrauded ; the monotony of her life with 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 253 
 
 him, and the monotony of his patient temper mad- 
 dened her. How splendid Billy had appeared 
 when riding away after escorting her to her carriage. 
 His wife had died a month ago. What had pos- 
 sessed her to reject that magnificent man and 
 stoop to this quintessence of littleness ? There 
 was an irritation in his forbearance and his devo- 
 tion to books which her soul abhorred ; a tame- 
 ness in his goodness, and an overpowering sense 
 of wrong to her in his lack of business qualifica- 
 tions. 
 
 He was now taking one of his afternoon naps, 
 breathing softly and regularly. Mrs. Lemuir got 
 up and took the blue and yellow parcels of medi- 
 cine from the mantel. She went out with them 
 a few minutes — came back and placed them on 
 the mantel as they had been. Then she took up 
 a novel and quite lost herself in it. 
 
 Vivia came in with a bright color in her lips 
 and cheeks, her brown hair in disorder, but her 
 eyes shining, so that her brother on waking said, 
 " I declare. Sis, you look pretty ; come and kiss 
 me, you darling." She did so and placed some 
 flowers on his pillow. 
 
 " I found a dove's nest in an old stump," she 
 said ; " I saw a snake. He ran from me, too. 
 Brother, you feel better? " 
 
 " It's time to give him his medicine," said Mrs. 
 Lemuir. " I wouldn't wake him to give it, and I 
 see Judy coming so I'll go and give out supper." 
 
 Vivia at once went to the mantel, took the 
 
254 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 papers of medicine, read the label quinine, 
 weighed out two grains, and one-eighth of a grain 
 of morphine from the yellow paper, put it in a 
 capsule, got a dipper of water and successively 
 presented them to Arthur. She sat down to read 
 to him, though the light was waning, as the sun 
 was about to set. 
 
 But he soon complained of drowsiness, and in a 
 little while appeared to sleep heavily, making a 
 slight snoring noise. Judy came to call her to 
 supper ; being hungry, she went, and while eating 
 got into a lively talk with her sister-in-law, in 
 which the two children took part. 
 
 Vivia carried a glass of milk and a slice of 
 bread with her when she went back to the sick 
 room. Captain Lemuir appeared to be sleeping 
 profoundly, and Vivia took the lamp near and 
 examined him closely. She was struck by the 
 ghastliness of his face, and hurriedly called Mrs. 
 Lemuir who was undressing Gabriella, the child 
 sniffling over some vexation. Her mother gave 
 her a slap, saying " Take that, you cross little 
 thing ! " She tossed the child into her trundle- 
 bed and walked excitedly into the other room. 
 As soon as she looked at Captain Lemuir she 
 turned a passionate face to Vivia. 
 
 " I wouldn't be at all surprised if you have 
 made a mistake and given Captain Lemuir the 
 morphine for quinine ; and if you have you've 
 killed him certain." 
 
 The girl's heart stood still ; for an instant she 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 255 
 
 gazed at her sister-in-law, stony horror in her eyes, 
 then she rushed to the mantel and read the labels. 
 
 " I'm certain I gave him two grains out of this 
 blue paper, labeled quinine." 
 
 " Well, you'd better send Jake for Dr. Gunger. 
 Go right now and hunt him up and make the ras- 
 cal understand it's a life-and-death case." 
 
 Vivia ran from the room as if she had wings to 
 her feet. Instantly Mrs. Lemuir took the papers 
 of medicine, went into the next room a few min- 
 utes, and returning, replaced them. Then she 
 coolly washed her hands, went to the bureau and 
 re-arranged her hair, put on a handsome white 
 wrapper, and took her seat in the rocking-chair 
 and assumed an attitude of despondency. 
 
 Soon Vivia returned with old Pompey and Aunt 
 Binah, his wife, and they at once set energetic 
 measures on foot to counteract the opiate. 
 
 The girl said scarce a word in all the agonizing 
 hours that followed, but she worked as if she had 
 the hands and brains of two or three ordinary 
 women. Uncle Pomp and Aunt Binah were 
 most willing and anxious to help, but hadn't an 
 idea what to do. Vivia knew, however, and she 
 speedily got coffee for the old woman to grind 
 and had her make a pot of the strongest ; then 
 they tried to get the dead-asleep soul to come 
 back to comprehension. 
 
 " Raise him up. Uncle Pompey, support his 
 back. Aunt Binah ; now let me get my arms 
 around his neck." 
 
256 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 With fondest adjurations she tried to call back 
 the spirit ; she held the coffee to his lips, but 
 they did not unclose, nor the eyes return any ray 
 of intelligence. 
 
 " Dey say if you beat um dey cum to, Miss 
 Vivie," said Uncle Pompey ; " lemme beat him." 
 
 " Yes, Uncle Pompey, anything, anything to 
 bring him to his senses." 
 
 The old man ran lightly, and was back in a 
 trice with peach switches ; then he began to be- 
 labor the shoulders of the unconscious sleeper, all 
 to no purpose, alas ! 
 
 Meantime the news had spread over the neigh- 
 borhood, and by midnight a crowd of people had 
 camped, as it were, in the yard and under the 
 trees in front, where they built fires and talked in 
 undertones, holding themselves in readiness to 
 give any assistance. 
 
 Mrs. Lemuir had bewailed loudly, with much 
 show of grief, holding her lace handkerchief to 
 her eyes ; how " the captain was doing so well, 
 and his sister had made a horrible mistake and 
 given him morphine for quinine, that, too, after 
 the doctor had cautioned her so strictly." 
 
 The doctor arrived at last, and the people 
 looked at him with a vague terror in their eyes as 
 if he were an oracle, and might have some occult 
 power to exorcise this dread phantom of death. 
 He said " good-evening," in a general way, and 
 went instantly to examine the patient, feeling the 
 pulse, taking the temperature, and while the ther- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 257 
 
 mometer was under the arm, went to the mantel, 
 examined the medicine and tasted it. 
 
 " What time and how did you give it, Miss 
 Vivia?" looking pitifully at the girl kneeling by 
 the bed. 
 
 " At a quarter to six I gave two grains out of 
 the blue paper, labelled quinine, and one-eighth of 
 a grain out of the yellow paper, labelled morphine." 
 
 " That was right," said the doctor. " The medi- 
 cine is just as I left it." He turned and said to 
 Mrs. Lemuir, " Let me see you a moment." 
 
 He talked with her apart, then came and sat 
 down by the bed. 
 
 The dying man's breath now came in measured 
 gasps, the weirdest sound, something between 
 sighing and sobbing, as if the parting soul thus 
 inarticulately, but with pathos inexpressible, ut- 
 tered its deep heart-break. His form was motion- 
 less, except when that horrible breathing agitated 
 the throat and breast ; the half-open eyes were 
 glazed and expressionless, while the cold death- 
 dews lay heavy on his forehead and the clammy 
 fingers were stiffening. 
 
 Vivia never took her eyes from his face. She 
 wiped his forehead and lips, chafed his cold hands, 
 or held his arm while the doctor, with his hypo- 
 dermic syringe, sought to stimulate the expiring 
 life. On the strained ear fell the tick of a " death- 
 watch," as the negroes call the little borer or wood- 
 sawyer that infests the porous wood of log houses. 
 
 The captain's dog howled at the door, the queer 
 17 
 
2S8 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 quiver of the aspen near the door could be heard 
 in the silent, awe-stricken house. At last day 
 began to break ; a mocking-bird broke into rapt- 
 urous song, and suddenly as with a snap when the 
 chords of an instrument are broken, the gasping 
 breath ceased, and with a slight convulsive shudder 
 life was gone out of the body. 
 
 Throwing up her arms with one heart-breaking 
 cry, Vivia sank to the floor, as unconscious for a 
 while of life's agonies as the brother she mourned. 
 As for Mrs. Lemuir, she shrieked, screamed, wrung 
 her hands and walked up and down, uttering her 
 voluble plaints, telling between whiles how she 
 " couldn't do without him, she never would marry 
 again, no never ! " 
 
 The neighbors came in and did the last offices, 
 and said among themselves : 
 
 " The captain's wife takes on powerfully ; didn't 
 have no idea she'd take it so hard." " Great pity 
 for the captain to die so just when he was getting 
 well ; mighty good man." " The doctor said he 
 undoubtedly died of morphine." " Ain't it awful ? 
 I kain't think the gal knowed." " She sholy didn't 
 do it on purpose." 
 
 The captain's widow, meanwhile, had again 
 taken the blue and yellow papers from the man- 
 tel and gone off by herself, after which interval of 
 privacy she gave a pitcher of innocent-looking 
 water to old Binah, whom she charged to " go 
 upstairs and mind Miss Vivia, and give her a 
 glass of that nice cool water when she came to." 
 
BEHOLDlkG AS IN A CLASS. 259 
 
 bid Binah was a kind-hearted but stupid old 
 negress, with a goitre on her neck. A part of 
 her religion was to " do what dem buckra say," 
 without question, and she accordingly obeyed 
 orders to the letter. 
 
26o BEHOLDING AS IN A GLAS&. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 When Vivia roused from the swoon she had 
 fallen into when her brother expired, old Binah 
 was beside her holding a glass of water. 
 
 " Take dis, honey, mighty good ting to fotch 
 folks outen faints." 
 
 Vivia drained the glass, and presently was asleep 
 again. She thus continued through the remainder 
 of that day ; she saw no one but old Binah, and 
 remembered nothing ; when she was conscious at 
 all she seemed only to feel a dull ache in her head 
 and a whirl in her brain. 
 
 This while the tragedy of her brother's lying in 
 state for all the neighbors to look at. She heard 
 not from her garret chamber the stir of many feet, 
 the dull thud of the black coflfin in its big box as 
 it was deposited on the piazza, the walking of men 
 and murmur of voices ; even the loud cries of Mrs. 
 Lemuir only made her start up wildly for a moment 
 and ask with terror in her eyes : 
 
 " O, what is it ? " 
 
 But Binah had been fully instructed, and with 
 an eye to the "nice frock Miss Celeste gwine 
 gimme," she bent to her duties again, persuading 
 Vivia to drink of that glass whose crystal-looking 
 
Behold TNG as in a glass. 261 
 
 water hid the minute granule that caused insensi- 
 bility. 
 
 So Dr. Gunger had it all his own way with the 
 crowd — he and a certain pander of his, who mas- 
 queraded under the guise of a preacher. They in- 
 dustriously supplied the rumors with which the 
 people assuaged their curiosity. "Yes, the cap- 
 tain's sister had killed him ; nursing him so long 
 and being confined had unhinged her mind." 
 
 " You know she couldn't ever have been right 
 or she wouldn't have run away and gone right 
 into the yaller fever at Melita. Nobody'd do 
 that in their right mind. And she was certainly 
 off the hinges and had given the wrong physic to 
 the poor captain." 
 
 " He was a good man, but he had let that fine 
 property go down mightily ; he wasn't no sort of 
 business manager." " Mrs. Lemuir was real hand- 
 some an' took on powerfully." " They say captain's 
 sister was sick' ; old Binah was mindin' her." 
 
 The next morning at dawn Mrs. Lemuir came 
 to the door and silently gave Binah a cup of cofiee 
 for Vivia. 
 
 When Dr. Gunger arrived, shortly after Drs. 
 Swallup and Morton, whom he had summoned, 
 they found the poor girl not only awake but be- 
 having in a way that greatly frightened old Binah. 
 The pupils of her eyes were enormously dilated 
 and moved restlessly and continuously. She was 
 talking loudly, but so incoherently that the old 
 woman declared " she done los' her mine." See- 
 
262 BEHOLDING AS m A GLASS. 
 
 ing Gunger and the strange man enter her room, 
 Vivia struggled to rise and reach a dressing-gown ; 
 but as she got her hand on it, dropped to the floor 
 from weakness. As the three laid hands on her 
 she screamed and tried to get away. 
 
 " You see, gentlemen," said Gunger, " she has 
 all the symptoms of derangement, trying to hide, 
 shuddering, and no pulse. I do believe she 
 would bite. Look out there, Morton ! " 
 
 The two young men were fledgeling practi- 
 tioners, callow ignoramuses, one. of whom was 
 practicing medicine on a license from a medical 
 college where he had attended lectures three 
 months, and paid twenty dollars, for a diploma. 
 This humbug dispensary offered its sheepskins at 
 that price, and so set the stamp of authority on 
 men who were incapable of diagnosing correctly 
 the commonest diseases, and who were as far from 
 distinguishing the signs of insanity as the horses 
 they rode. They had great respect for Gunger, 
 however, who was given to using Latin phrases, 
 and deferred to him readily enough in this 
 case. 
 
 They agreed with him that the girl's condition 
 proved the insanity which her previous conduct 
 indicated, running off to Melita and giving her 
 brother the wrong medicine. They therefore 
 signed the certificate he wanted, as a plea for 
 putting her in a place of restraint. 
 
 A cup of tea after the men left revived her, 
 and she let old Binah dress her, resting quietly 
 
SEffOLPWG AS m A GLASS. 263 
 
 while the old woman collected and put things in 
 her trunk. 
 
 When Binah went out Mrs. Lemuir came in. 
 She was evidently excited and bustled about the 
 room, talking to Vivia without looking at her. 
 
 " I'm going to leave this place to-day," she said. 
 " I always hated it and shall rent it out at once. 
 You will have to leave. You can go to Dr. Evans. 
 Perhaps he will keep his engagement with you." 
 
 Vivia did not reply ; her head ached and her 
 body itched all over. 
 
 " I've supported you long enough," said the 
 rasping voice. " I'll pay your way to Melita, 
 where you went, no doubt, in search of Dr. Evans. 
 There is a good opportunity for you to go. 
 Gunger is going, and says he will see you to your 
 old boarding-house. He'll be here for you in half 
 an hour." 
 
 " Where is brother ? " said the girl. 
 
 " Where ! " said Mrs. Lemuir. " You've lost 
 your senses ; he's dead and buried." 
 
 Vivia lapsed into unconsciousness. A while 
 after she was carried down, placed in a buggy 
 and taken by Gunger to the crossing. He waved 
 down the train and the conductor helped him put 
 her aboard. 
 
 The whisper that this was " a mad woman " 
 being conveyed by her physician to an asylum, 
 kept everybody at a distance ; so the poor girl, 
 without let or hindrance, was at last immured in 
 the State lunatic asylum. 
 
264 bEHOlDINd AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 In a week the asylum doctor began to suspect 
 that the sorrowful sick girl was sane ; but it was 
 barely a suspicion. She did not seem to know 
 where she was, and in her great weakness of body 
 would lie quietly in her bed or do as she was told. 
 But there came a time when she who had been 
 reduced to the plane of lunatics and idiots was 
 herself again, with only the haunting horror of 
 something she had done, but done innocently, to 
 clutch her heart with a stab, which caused her to 
 turn her face to the wall and ■ cry out, " Father, 
 forgive ! Have mercy ! It was not I that did it." 
 
 She had attracted the attention of the associate 
 physician of the asylum. Dr. Mary Stewart, who 
 watched the girl sitting with bent head in the 
 silence of some unspeakable grief, and resolved to 
 win her confidence. For days she merely exerted 
 her skill in nursing, asking no questions. 
 
 As the girl's face cleared, one morning, and a 
 little color came into her lips. Dr. Stewart sat 
 down by her bed, and began reading the Bible in 
 a sweet, clear voice. 
 
 " ' Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke 
 upon you and learn of me for I am meek and 
 lowly in heart. I will give rest to your souls.' " 
 
 Vivia's tears burst forth at those once so fa- 
 miliar words. Dr. Stewart laid her hand on hers, 
 and showed by her sympathetic touch how she 
 entered into her feelings. 
 
 " My dear, you are so tired," she said, looking 
 
Beholding as in a glass. 265 
 
 into Vivia's tear-washed, deathly face; "but 
 Christ is able to help you to the uttermost ; His 
 yoke is simply His spirit, which takes us so clearly 
 to Him that not even the cruelest cross can divide 
 us from His companionship. Think no more of 
 the moi tifications you have suffered ; put away 
 from you pride, ambition and wounded vanity, 
 disappointed hopes and unsatisfied selfishness of 
 heart. These traits are opposed to lowliness and 
 meekness, and if you will only be meek and 
 lowly the vexations of life will lose their power 
 to hurt. Water rests only when it reaches the 
 lowest point or level, so if you have no pride you 
 cannot be wounded by others' scorn or contumely. 
 If you expect nothing you will not grieve because 
 nothing comes to you. And consider Him who 
 endureth such contradiction of sinners ; learn His 
 art, get His peace by reflecting His image in your 
 heart, His doings in your life. It was when the 
 emissaries of the high-priests were seeking Jesus, 
 that He said, ' My peace I leave with you.' Dear 
 child, take this peace now into your heart and 
 ease its anguish. Say to yourself as Browning 
 said, ' God is in His heaven. All's well with the 
 world.' Let me read you from this little book 
 which I've been quoting. ' Peace Be With You,' 
 Professor Drummond's lovely book." 
 
 " Peace be with you," said Vivia, and the faint 
 dawning of a smile (the first since those awful 
 words, " You've killed him," fell upon her ears), 
 came to her lips. 
 
>i66 Beholding as w a Glass. 
 
 " Yes, peace be with you," repeated the tender 
 tones. " If you will take up the burden of your 
 life and bear it as Christ bore it, without touchi- 
 ness, without restlessness. The weight of the 
 load depends on the attraction of the earth, but 
 suppose the attraction of the earth removed ? A 
 ton on some other planet where that of the earth 
 is less does not weigh half a ton. Now, following 
 Christ takes away this earth's attraction and so 
 lightens our burdens. It makes us citizens of 
 another world. It alters the whole aspect of this, 
 giving us a wider horizon, a different standard. 
 That standard is Christ, the contemplation of His 
 character, so that ' Beholding as in a glass ' the 
 glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same 
 image." 
 
 To all this Vivia listened earnestly with tears. 
 She asked the loan of the book and studied it, 
 lying there quietly, and at last got up. One 
 passage struck her, that Christ probably used that 
 figure of a yoke from His experience with the 
 wooden ones, the ox-collars He had made as a 
 carpenter ! How near that simple notion brought 
 God to this bleeding child of earth. She, too, sat 
 up at His word, rose from her bed, and literally 
 taking His yoke upon her, in a near adjustment of 
 the burden of life, she began to look about her 
 for something to do as Christ did, some pitiful 
 work of love. She asked Dr. Stewart if she would 
 not take her as assistant. The doctor gladly 
 agreed. She first put her to copying MSS., look- 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 267 
 
 ing up authorities for her, and then having her 
 go with her to see the patients. 
 
 She soon discovered Vivia's wonderful gift as a 
 reader, and began sending her to read aloud to 
 such cases as could be soothed thus. Vivia's 
 voice had power even when her words were not 
 understood. Gradually the girl regained health 
 of mind and body, as she became more inter- 
 ested in the activities of a faith which had ac- 
 cepted her situation as the will of God, against 
 which she no longer chafed, but simply submitted. 
 
 Who was she that she should invoke the law 
 on that guilty woman? Why should she hate 
 her and yearn for vengeance on her ? Did Christ 
 not tell Peter to " put up the sword ? " did He not 
 restore the ear of one of that howling mob which 
 was taking Him to death ? 
 
 Prayer had again become the breath of her life, 
 and every prayer had in it the name of him she 
 loved, but had now, she felt, lost forever ; for 
 Vivia had only inferences on which to ground her 
 explanation as to how she, a sane woman, had 
 been put into a lunatic asylum. Her ideas were 
 altogether confused regarding the events subse- 
 quent to her brother's death, during the period, 
 in fact, when she had been drugged with morphine, 
 then with atropia and belladonna; but she did 
 not doubt she had been sent to the place through 
 the machinations of her sister-in-law. She felt 
 confident Dr. Evans had tried to find her ; if he 
 altogether failed perhaps it would be better for 
 
268 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 him. If he still loved her, if he loved her as she 
 would desire to be loved by the man whose wife 
 she might be, then he would not give up seeking 
 till she was found. She resolved to let this work 
 of finding be his, and to seek first the kingdom 
 of God in deeds of mercifulness to the darkened 
 souls around her. 
 
 This asylum was conducted on a family plan. 
 The inmates assembled in a place called a chapel, 
 and listened to the reading of a few verses and a 
 prayer. 
 
 Once when this duty devolved on Dr. Stewart, 
 she asked Vivia to take her place. There was a 
 momentary struggle in the girl's mind ; then she 
 went to the desk and read the story of Jairus's 
 daughter, so that many of those poor demented 
 creatures were touched by her voice or some vague 
 ideas gained, and wept. Several cures were un- 
 doubtedly affected by Vivia's agency. 
 
 In her efforts to assist Dr. Stewart, by hunting 
 up authorities, copying MSS., and writing out 
 prescriptions, the girl became deeply interested 
 in hygienic medication, and made it a study under 
 her friend's lead ; so that, in after years, she looked 
 back upon her imprisonment in a lunatic asylum 
 as one of those " light afiflictions wherewith God 
 works out greatest good for His own." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 269 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 All this time where was Dr. Evans, and what 
 was he about ? Accustomed to getting weekly 
 letters from Vivia, he looked for one at the usual 
 time and was disappointed. The next week, get- 
 ting none in reply to the urgent letter he had 
 written, he telegraphed her, but the operator said 
 "the person addressed could not be found." 
 
 The nearest telegraph office to Ridley Farm 
 was ten miles. Dr. Evans boarded a train an hour 
 after. On arrival he learned that Captain Lemuir 
 was dead and the family had left Ridley Farm. 
 In a fever of anxiety he hired a carriage and was 
 driven out to the captain's place. The renters 
 were strangers who had not long moved. They 
 were absolutely ignorant of the affairs of the 
 family, neither could he discover any person who 
 even knew where Mrs. Lemuir had gone. She 
 had held herself aloof from her neighbors, who 
 were the most ignorant class of renters. The 
 nine days' wonder about the captain's death, and 
 the whispers about his sister had died away. On 
 driving back to the depot and laying his plans 
 more systematically, he learned that Mrs. Miln 
 was related to Mrs Lemuir, and likely to know 
 
270 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 something about her. He hired another horse 
 and man to drive him, and went there. 
 
 General Miln was not at his country house, 
 having a banking office in the city and going in 
 every day, but Mrs. Miln, on seeing his card, re- 
 ceived him graciously. 
 
 She was singularly reticent, however, about the 
 affairs of the person he was interested in. He 
 elicited from her only the additional facts of the 
 name of the family physician and Mrs. Lemuir's 
 address. She was most gracious, however, and 
 very urgent that he should stay to dinner. The 
 Doctor declined in the briefest terms, so that she 
 called him " boorish " as soon as his back was 
 turned. He was in a fever of impatience ; but he 
 went next to Dr. Livingstone's house, as Mrs Miln 
 had said he was the family physician. 
 
 Dr. Livingstone, sick in bed, could tell him noth- 
 ing but that Gunger had attended Captain Lemuir. 
 
 The little old black woman, who was washing 
 and humming under a poplar tree in front of 
 Gunger's house, for some time wouldn't answer 
 him, until a piece of silver induced her to grunt 
 out " Dey is all gone to Possum Corner ; dunno 
 when dey comin' back." 
 
 Thwarted thus at every turn, the doctor re- 
 turned to the depot where he had started on his 
 quest, and telegraphed to Miss Vivia Lemuir, in 
 care of Mrs. Celestia Lemuir. 
 
 In an hour came back the answer, " Miss Lemuir 
 desires no further communication with Dr. Evana." 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 27 1 
 
 This was startling, but it was also mortifying. 
 The telegraph operator looked him over suspi- 
 ciously, but the doctor boarded the train twenty 
 minutes after, his quest ended for awhile. 
 
 It was strange, unaccountable, or unaccountable 
 only in the hypothesis that Vivia was not the 
 woman he had thought her to be, but a creature 
 of freaks and whims, not worthy the deep love he 
 had given her. 
 
 But always down at his heart the old tenderness 
 was tugging ; and there was such a discrepancy 
 between this apparent coquetry and Vivia's high- 
 souled self, as he had known her, that his mind 
 and heart were in a constant struggle. He began 
 to lie awake in the wee small hours, which had 
 formerly supplied his short allowance of sleep by 
 the profoundest of repose. This went on for 
 weeks ; he tried to work himself down so that he 
 would sleep from sheer fatigue ; but no ; as soon 
 as his mind was off the problem of practice, and 
 his eyes closed, he would see those dark ones 
 looking at him so entreatingly, so tenderly, his 
 heart was ready to break for a sight of her. 
 
 This went on till certain symptoms warned the 
 doctor he must have a change. He easily secured 
 an appointment to go to Germany on a profes- 
 sional quest. While there he went to Heidelberg. 
 
 Of course he went to see the ruins of the castle, 
 and there he encountered Noisette Miln and Ar- 
 temesia, now Frau Ehrich, in their favorite nook 
 the Gluckr^-thurm. Zetta, with that quickness 
 
272 BEHOLDIN'G AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 which was one of her characteristics, at once recog- 
 nized the original of the photograph Vivia had 
 sent her. She arose and asked : 
 
 " Is not this Dr. Charles Evans, from America? " 
 
 The princely-looking man bowed, and awaited 
 her next words. 
 
 " Where is Vivia ? " she asked impulsively. 
 
 At her question Dr. Evans paled to the lips. 
 "You are Miss Miln," he said ; "Will you walk 
 aside with me ? " 
 
 The two left their companions and hastened 
 down the steps to the terrace, where Dr. Evans, 
 turning to Zetta with face now deeply flushed, 
 said in tones sharp with pain and shame : " I 
 know nothing of Miss Lemuir. She has not com- 
 municated with me since her brother's death. 
 My letters have been returned to me unopened. 
 I suppose I may consider myself a rejected man." 
 
 " O no ! " said Zetta," Vivia is not that^ kind ; 
 if there ever was a single-hearted soul in the 
 world it is she. I will prove to you how true she 
 is by her own written words. But what has be- 
 come of her ? She did not go with Cousin Celestia 
 to Thompson City. My sister wrote me that she 
 became insane on the death of brother, to whom 
 she accidentally administered morphine ; but that 
 is all she says. Letters are so unsatisfying. 
 Have you written to her sister, Mrs. Newsome ? " 
 
 " No," said Dr. Evans ; " I concluded she had 
 broken with me and I stopped trying." 
 
 " Well, put that idea out of your head ; and if 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 273 
 
 you will come to our hotel at 8 130 P. M., we will 
 go over all my letters from Vivia and try to find a 
 clew." 
 
 This plan was put into action ; and when they 
 had carefully read Vivia's letters now several 
 months old, and a recent one from Mrs. Newsome 
 in which she expressed the greatest anxiety about 
 Vivia, that she had not heard from her in two 
 months, and had had no response to a telegram 
 except that she was not there. She had then 
 telegraphed to Captain Lemuir, and had just 
 heard, in that way, of his death. She was think- 
 ing of getting Calhoun Logan to go out there to 
 see what had become of her " beloved child." 
 
 That was the end of all Dr. Evans' doubts re- 
 specting Vivia's love for himself. If ever man 
 hurried to finish his business, he did ; and as Zetta 
 was anxious to return home she availed herself of 
 the doctor's escort, and both engaged passage on 
 " The City of New York." They had a safe and 
 swift trip, and, arriving, travelled by limited ex- 
 press to Melita, and thence to old Cheowah- 
 town. 
 
 On the voyage they had studied the mystery of 
 Vivia's disappearance, and the solution had come 
 by a sudden intuition. to Zetta. 
 
 " Gunger has carried her to a lunatic asylum," 
 she said. 
 
 She based this idea on the scraps of informa- 
 tion, pieced together from the letter Vivia had 
 written of his being in charge of her brother's 
 i8 
 
274 BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 
 
 case, and her dislike of him, and Elma's flippant 
 allusion to the rumor of Vivia's having "gone 
 crazy." 
 
 To find the woman he adored, to find the friend 
 she so loved and pitied, was now the quest of 
 these two ; and Dr. Evans, discerning Zetta's 
 ability, let her arrange the tactics of discovery. 
 
 They drove first to Mrs. Crook's. Zetta knew 
 her love for Vivia. She believed she would be a 
 powerful ally, as indeed she proved. In truth, 
 Mrs. Crook had never ceased talking, lamenting 
 and wondering, and trying to find out what had 
 become of the poor child. This was her story. 
 
 " I was down with the fever and ager when the 
 captain died. I sent Mr. Crook to bring Vivia to 
 my house the next day ; but lawsy massy, by the 
 time he got there, drivin' the pony so slow as he 
 allersdoes, there wa'nt nobody to tell him nothin', 
 but the niggers. They said Miss Celeste had done 
 moved and given orders for them to move. She 
 done rent de place to de white buckra, wasn't go- 
 in' to have no niggers on it. Old Pomp had 
 drove the carriage and Lammy had gone with the 
 cart. So Mr. Crook supposed right off Vivia was 
 with her brother's widow, and didn't ask no' 
 further. I somehow 'nother didn't chime in with 
 that theory, cause I knowed Mis Lemuir didn't 
 hold bosses with Vivia, and more'n likely would 
 have sent her back where she come from. As 
 soon as I could ride I got on old Sally Newthing, 
 my gray mare, and rode over to satisfy my mind 
 
iEtlOLbtNG AS W A GLASS. 275 
 
 'bout that poor, poor girl. I rode to every cabin 
 an' didn't find a person that I knew or that had 
 known Vivia or the cappen. I was ridin' home, 
 when, at a sudden turn, I came upon a black girl, 
 sitting down in the edge of the path, pulling off 
 her shoes. Bless my soul, Zetta, that gal had on 
 one of Vivia's frocks ! I knowed it the minute I 
 set eyes on it. I stopped and said, ' Good-even- 
 ing, how's your folks ? ' She gave me the time o' 
 day an' I talked some an' kinder led up to it. 
 Says I, ' Where's Uncle Pomp an' you uns work- 
 ing? ' She says, ' We gone ober de riber.' I said, 
 ' I thought you all liked Miss Vivia ; did she give 
 you that frock ? ' ' No, mammy gin it to me.' 
 ' And where did your mammy get it ? ' ' Dunno, 
 mum.' All of a sudden I thought of bribing the 
 girl, an' I put my hand in my pocket and says, 
 ' I'll give you this if you will tell me where Miss 
 Vivia Lemuir is.' At first she declared she didn't 
 know, but at last she broke down and said : ' 'Fore 
 de Lord, Dr. Gunger done carry her off some- 
 whar, she dunno whar ; mammy didn't go no 
 'furer'n Dailia Junction wid dem.' I told her I'd 
 double the quarter if she would tell me where her 
 mammy was living ; but she only rolled her eyes 
 an' wouldn't say a word. At last it was getting so 
 late I threw her the quarter, and galloped home. 
 I wanted Mr. Crook to go and see Gunger, but he 
 didn't see it was his duty, an' so matters has stood 
 so." 
 
 Noisette did not tell Mrs. Crook her idea of the 
 
275 BEHOLDING A^ IN A GLASS. 
 
 lunatic aslyum, but she insisted on going with Dr. 
 Evans, who was off at once to see his professional 
 brother, Gunger. Zetta saw such a dangerous light 
 in the former's eyes. She thought the question 
 more likely to be answered amicably with a third 
 party, and that person a woman, to pour oil on 
 the troubled waters. 
 
 When the carriage drove up and the elegant 
 lady and gentleman (each with an air of distinc- 
 tion fitting like a perfect garment) appeared, Gun- 
 ger saw that the time had come to tell the truth. 
 
 He made the best of his case, declaring that, in 
 his judgment, and that of the two physicians, 
 " Miss Lemuir was deranged and it was necessary 
 to put her under restraint." 
 
 It was well for him that Zetta was by, for 
 Evans, fiery under provocation, would have kicked 
 the scoundrel. He controlled himself, however, 
 took the address of the asylum, and with Zetta 
 hastened away, she readily agreeing to make the 
 journey with him. 
 
 They travelled all day and arrived at their des- 
 tination that night. A brief interview with the 
 principal and associate physicians convinced Dr. 
 Evans and Zetta that these had acted in good 
 faith. They said that they had long ago been con- 
 vinced of Miss Lemuir's sanity, but as she wanted 
 to stay, and was willing to make herself useful, 
 they had acquiesced. She might have gone forth 
 a month after her arrival if she had so wished. 
 
 " But," said Dr. Mary Stewart, " she is our 
 
BEHOLDING AS IN A GLASS. 277 
 
 angel — the quietest in the house, most patient, 
 sweetest soul I ever knew. I cannot tell you the 
 good she has done. It really seems as if she had 
 power over unclean spirits." 
 
 Presently Vivia came in, with such an expres- 
 sion as has been seen on the face as the soul 
 leaves the body to enter heaven. 
 
 The strong man clasped her to his heart, thrill- 
 ing and throbbing with intense feeling. 
 
 There were long explanations, much talking, a 
 minister summoned, the asylum inmates gathered 
 in the chapel, and Zetta gave away the bride, who 
 passed from the prison house of humanity's miser- 
 ables, glorified with the chrism of a true mar- 
 riage. 
 
 THE END. 
 
Prom the press of the Arena Publishing Company. 
 
 Byron 
 A. Brooks 
 
 fiction : Social, Economic anb Beformatiue. 
 
 Price, paper, 10 cents; ctoik, $1.2$. 
 
 EARTH REVISITED. 
 
 A story for earnest men and women of the new time. 
 Mr. Flower, in " Civilization's Inferno," portrays some 
 hideous phases of modern civilization. Mr. Brooks, in 
 " Earth Revisited," pictures our earth blossoming in 
 peace, joy and happiness, under cooperation. This story, 
 which is charming as a pure, clean love story, is made the 
 vehicle for shadowing forth an ideal civilization through 
 the working of the law of all for all. Few social studies 
 are so helpful in psychical suggestions as " Earth Revis- 
 ited," and probably this work more than any other Uto- 
 pian romance sustains the interest of the reader from first 
 to last. 
 
 The 
 New Utopia 
 
 Hamlin 
 Garland 
 
 A powerfully 
 Dramatic Novel, 
 dealing with the 
 Struggles of the 
 Poor in City and 
 Country 
 
 Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 JASON EDWARDS. 
 
 This work is one of the most powerful portrayals of the 
 struggles of the mechanic in the city and the farmer in the 
 West ever published. It is highly dramatic while per- 
 fectly realistic, and though it ends in a burst of sunshine, 
 its noble lessons will linger in the heart. 
 
 Hamlin Garland's splendid qualities — his sympathy with 
 humanity, his perception of the subtlest meaning of nature, his 
 power to bring his people before you as if you had grown up 
 in their dooryatds — these are his own. 
 
 Mary E. Wilkins has given us the pathos of humblest New 
 England; Charles Egbert Craddock has made known to us the 
 secrets of the Tennessee Mountains; Rudyard Kipling has 
 carried us to India; and now, at last, here is the story-teller of 
 farm life in those Western prairies among which Hamlin Gar- 
 land grew up, to which he goes back, now and again, with the 
 child's heart, the man's insight. — Louise Chandler Moulton, in 
 Boston Herald. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., Boston, Mass. 
 
From the ^r ess of the Arena Publishing Company. 
 
 Che Latest Social Uision. 
 
 Byron A. 
 Brooks 
 
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 Star 
 
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 Outlook 
 
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 Price, paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.25, 
 
 EARTH REVISITED. 
 
 The New Utopia, " Earth Revisited," is the latest social 
 vision, and in many respects the most charming work 
 of this character which has ever appeared. In it we see 
 the people, the state and the church under true civilization, 
 and the new psychology is introduced in such a mannef 
 as to interest students of psychical research.' 
 
 Here are a few press opinions : — 
 
 '• As a story, it is very interesting." 
 
 " Worthy of consideration for its study of the social and other 
 questions involved." 
 
 " The story is written in an autobiographical form and pic- 
 tures the social, industrial, religious and educational America of 
 1992. As a work of fiction the volume embodies in a fanciful 
 way a view expressed in the closing words : ' To live is to love 
 and to labor. There is no death.' The style is clear and direct." 
 
 " Mr. Brooks is an earnest man. He has written a religio- 
 philosophical novel of life in the coming century. The hero of 
 this story has lived the life of the average man and at length, 
 when he finds himself dying, he wishes that he might have 3 
 chance to live his life over. The wish is granted and he is born 
 again on the earth a century later. Social and scientific and 
 religious evolution have in a hundred years contrived to make an 
 almost irrecognizable world of it. Human nature is changed ; 
 altruism is fully realized; worship has become service of man; 
 the struggle for wealth and social rank has ended. Mr. Brooks' 
 book is worth reading by all sincere people, and in particular 
 by those interested in Christian socialism and applied Christian- 
 ity." 
 
 " If you should happen to pick up Byron A. Brooks' ' Earth 
 Revisited ' and read the first chapter, the chances are that you 
 would follow the story on to the end, even if you had other 
 things on hand spoiling for your attention. Summed up, 
 ' Earth Revisited ' is a wild though dehghtful story, short 
 enough to be filled from end to end with throbbing interest and 
 long enough to fully round off the things that are introduced." 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by 
 
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 Helen H. 
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 Price, paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.2;. 
 THE FORTUNES OF HARQARET WELD. 
 
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 many profoundly spiritual characters touched with the 
 spirit of revolt against the old blind conventionalisms of re- 
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 the profounder religious spirit underlying the new thought. 
 In many respects it is an old story, but it is one that needs 
 telling over and over again, of which the heart can never 
 tire. And there is an element of hope and pity and justice 
 in it which belongs entirely to the new spirit creeping in- 
 to the literature of social thought of our day. The story 
 shows how a high-minded, pure woman, can make a grave 
 mistake, but it also shows that with an environment of 
 human sympathy, and love, and true charity, that mistake 
 is not irreparable. It is a strong plea forasingle standard 
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 Price, paper, ^o cents ; cloth, $1.00. 
 
 PRAY YOU, SIR, WHOSE DAUGHTER? 
 
 " The civil and canon law," writes Mrs. Elizabeth Cady 
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 the race a helpless, ostracised class, pariahs of a corrupt 
 civilization. In Helen Gardener's stories I see the promise 
 of such a work of fiction that shall paint the awful facts of 
 woman's position in living colors that all must see and feel. 
 Those who know the sad facts of woman's life, so carefully 
 veiled from society at large, will not consider the pictures 
 in this story overdrawn. Some critics say that everyone 
 knows and condemns these facts in our social life, and 
 that we do not nped fiction to intensify the public disgust. 
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 them of the dangers that beset them. Ignorance under 
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 For sale by all newsdealers or sent postpaid by 
 
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 Hamlin 
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 /Alexander 
 
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 WHO LIES? An Interrogation. 
 
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 Helen H. 
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 " Helen H. Gardener has made for herself within a very few 
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 " ' Forbes of Harvard.' A delicate and artistic piece of work, 
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 and we go with Margaret on her tortuous earth journey ; 
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 feel somewhat at the last of her serene peace. A lofty 
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 directly paid to the Quakers, the only sect who having 
 power never persecuted ; the people who made the only 
 treaty that was never sworn to and yet never broken. The 
 world will be better for this book. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., Boston, Mass- 
 
From the press of the Arena Publishing Company. 
 
 Solomon 
 Schindler 
 
 The Story of 
 Civilization 
 under 
 Nationalism 
 
 ^ 
 
 Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 YOUNG WEST: A Sequel to '« Looking Back- 
 ward." 
 
 This is not only a supplement to, but the complement 
 of, the famous nationalistic document, " Loolcing Back- 
 ward." The author of " Looking Backward," probably on 
 account of the limited compass of his book, has not given 
 in detail a description of all the social conditions of the 
 time mentioned by ^him. " Young West," (the son of 
 Julian West) answers indirectly all these questions. Des- 
 cribing his own eventful career from his first awakening to 
 consciousness to his age of threescore and ten, the hero 
 of the book will picture life in its various phases, as it will 
 be acted out by a citizen of the United States of America 
 in the twenty-second century. The reminiscences of 
 "Young West" touches upon every phase of this com- 
 munity life in detail, and shows the possibility of that 
 future state of society of which so many are dreaming and 
 writing and talking at present. 
 
 The author of " Looking Backward " and others did a 
 good work in introducing to the general reader many 
 ideas which had been discussed for a long time by the 
 best scientific writers of our day, but which were and are 
 unfortunately removed from popular sympathy through the 
 strict scientific character of the literary vehicles in which 
 they appeared. But the author of " Looking Backward," 
 probably on account of the limited compass of his book, 
 has not given in detail a description of all the social con- 
 ditions of the brighter future which is to witness the 
 triumph of altruism. He has merely whetted the appetite 
 of the reader, but he has not satisfied his hunger. " Young 
 West " (the son of Julian West) will indirectly answer all 
 these questions. Describing his own eventful career from 
 his first awakening to consciousness to his age of three- 
 score and ten, the hero of the book will picture life in its 
 various phases, as it will be acted out by a citizen of the 
 United States of America in the twenty-second century. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., Boston, Mass. 
 
From, the press of the Arena Publishing Company. 
 
 A Stirring Drama of T^yar-iTimes. 
 
 nary 
 Holland V.i 
 
 Price, paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 MARGARET SALISBURY. 
 
 The setting of the story is vivid and picturesque, bridg- 
 ing the period of our Civil war, and its touches upon New 
 England and Virginia life are full of local color, provincial 
 phraseology and dramatic power. The tale opens with a 
 description of Three Oaks, a fine Virginia estate, the fate 
 of whose owners is curiously interwoven with the three 
 gigantic trees from which the place receives its name. 
 Mrs. Lee strikes the note of heredity firmly, and the most 
 tragic complication of her plot hinges upon the unlawful 
 use of hypnotic power. The world of books is far too 
 poor in well-told stories of our war, to accord anything 
 less than enthusiastic welcome to this latest comer, so full 
 of rich detail and striking scenes both North and South, 
 and so winning in the even, impartial temper with which 
 the sad struggles of the great Rebellion are incidentally 
 set forth. It will attract that great army of readers which 
 turns to books for amusement and distraction. 
 
 " Margaret Salisbury " is the brave and loyal heroine of a 
 stirring drama of the Civil War. Her love story Is a sad one 
 and long in telling, but it affords the author opportunity to intro- 
 duce pictures of Southern life in anti-bellum days and some 
 startling episodes of army times. The sympathetic interest of 
 the reader will be aroused by a succession of unusual incidents, 
 — Public Opinion, Washington, D. C. 
 
 North and South, their people and principles, are the text of 
 the book. The slavery question is treated from an unprejudiced 
 standpoint. The Negro, Yankee and Southern characters are 
 lifelike under skilful moulding. As a love story it is pure, sim- 
 ple, strong and pathetic. — The American Newsman, New York 
 City. 
 
 " Margaret Salisbury " is a story of the war, and is charm- 
 ingly told. Its heroes are of the real kind who believe what 
 they profess because they were born to believe so. The story is 
 enlivened by a vein of rather exquisite humor and toned up by 
 clean, pure and healthy sentiment, altogether furnishing a most 
 entertaining tale of heroic times. — Kansas City journal. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., Boston, Mast. 
 
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