T CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE Cornell University Library PS 2587.P5C3 Caste :a story of republcan equality /b I 3 1924 022 145 951 All books are subject to recall after two weeks Olln/Kroch Library DATE DUE „_ "— ' GAYLORD ' PRINTED IN U.S.A. Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022145951 CASTE: STORY OF REPUBLICAN EQUALITY. SYDNEY A. STORY, Jr. BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, AND COMPANY. NEW YOKK; J. C. DBEBY. 18 5 6. Alfi^ 11 (0. JS tJ 1 -t -*■*-« Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the Tear 1S65, by Pbizufs, Sampson, and Cobifany, In the Clerk's Office of Uie District Court of the District of Massachusetts. BTEREOTTPED AT T tnt BOflTON 8TERE0TYPX FODNDRT. CASTE, CHAPTER FIRST. " Maiden with the dark-blue eyes, In -whose orbs a shadow lies, Like the night of summer skies. " Standing, with reluctant feet,^ "Where the hroolc and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet," ' The cold wind of early March was sweeping ragged clouds across the sky ; but the cheerless aspect of the evening was little heeded by the guests who thronged Mr. Conant's brilliantly lighted mansion, to witness the marriage of his daughter Julie, a young and beautiful girl, the pet and pride of the village. In the seclusion of her own chamber the bride was receiving from her attendant bridemaids the finishing touches which made her toilet complete. Having care- fully adjusted the folds of the bridal veil, one of them .stepped ba&k, and, surveying her work with admiration, saidgayly, — "There, now, Julie, you look like a little beauty, and I shall expect special thanks for my artistic skill. Isn't she perfect, Mrs. Conant?" she added, address- ing that lady, who was placing a delicate spray of myrtle flowers among her daughter's silken curls. The mother's eyes grew dim with a sudden gush of feeling, and before she could command herself to answer, the door opened and two ladies entered. "Helen insisted I should come and see Julie, before she went down to be admired and kissed by every body ; and so I am here," said one of them, glancing towards her companion, a tall, queenly-looking girl, who added, " Yes, indeed, I told Mrs. Avenel she could not half appreciate you m the bustle and crowd down stairs, and as I wanted one more look for myself, I brought her with me." "We are very glad to see Mrs. Avenel," replied Julie and her mother, speaking together ; and then, after the criticisms on her dress were finished, the former added with a sort of timid earnestness that suited her soft, childlike voice, " Is there really such a crowd down stairs ? 0, dear, what shall I do ! " "Submit to your fate, my dear; which is, to be the .bright particular star of this evening," said Helen Du- pre, laughing. " It is said not to be so very disagreeable to be admired, when one gets used to it; so summon ' your philosophy, and don't faint or shed any tears. THE PBEPAEATION. 9 Notody must cry*tMs eveuing, for there is no need of it liere, and I dislike to see. tears at a wedding." ^•,. " And having come se far to attend this one, you mean to have things all yotir own way," rejoined Mrs. Avenel. " I don't know but I shall disobey you," said Mrs. Co- nant with a smile, and a voice slightly tremulous, " for I feel already somewhat in ' the melting mood.' Are not mothers always privileged characters on these occasions ? " " Perhaps so ; but really I think you have no occasion now for weeping," said Helen. " Is not Julie as happy as she can be ? And besides you are about to gain a son, instead of llsing a daughter. Think what it would be if she was going away." At -this moment there was a rap at the door, and when Helen Dupre had opened it, her brother entered. He was a dark, handsome man ; and when she saw him, the little bride sprang to her feet, with a smile and a blush vivid enough to tell in what relation he stood to her. He looked at her a moment in silence, with an expression of overflowing tenderness and delight ; and then assuming a gay tone to hide his deeper feelings, he asked, as he came towards her, — " Are the arrangements completed, at last ? Is the bride presentable? Our rosebud looks as if she was wrapped in a snow wreath, with all this cloud of white about her." " Don't you like it ? Don't' you think it pretty ? " ex- claimed several voices in a breath. 10 CASTE. "Lilse it? of course I do," he answered. "And tliis ample veil can be made available, too. Draw it around you, Julie; it is large enough to hide you and your blushes„'through the whole evening," As he -spoke, he seized it playfully, knd would have drawn it over her face ; but Julie was no longer blushing or smiling, and at that moment something in her face ar- rested his hand, even before his sister sprang forward to seize it, and prevent the disarrangement he would have carelessly effected. " What is it, my pet ? " he said in a low tone, as he noticed the sudden paleness, and the largg drops that trembled on her lashes, as her eyes were still fixed on his face. " What is it, Julie ? Did I hurt you ? You must not be sad to-night, my little beauty." " O, no, Charles," she answered, in a tone which called forth a smile and a tear from almost every one of the group around ; " you did not hurt me — it is not that. But I am so very, very happy. It almost frightens me to think how happy I am." Charles seized her hands, and pressed them to his lips, as he bent down and whispered something in her ear ; and just then a noisy summons came to them from Mas- ter Ned Conant, the only son of the family, who, gliding through the half open door, exclaimed, — " Why don't you come down stairs ? Every body is waiting, and the minister ^s here. Julie, you look first rate. What's the niattar ? Yo.i needn't be so frio-htcnod. THEWEDDIKG. 11 You'll only haVC^ to stand up five minutes, and Mr. Blank will marry you just as easy !" ' "-^ The comical drawl with which the last word was'Spoken seemed very persuasive ; for with an instant change of mood, the whole party moved to the anteroom, where the groomsmen waited, and after a fey moments' conversa- tion, arranged themselves for the walk to the drawing rooms. As the escort passed down stairs, Ned, who lingered beside Charles and Julie, whispered encour- agingly, -^ " Don't tremble so, little sis ; you'll find you're mar- ried before you Icnow it. Charles, couldn't you whistle ' Old Hundred,' or some other lively tune, to keep up her spirits till it is over ? " " What ! really packing your trtinks ? I half hoped they would persuade you to remain longer," said Mrs. Aveiiel,as she opened the door of her friend's chamber, a few days after the wedding, and saw the array of dresses and boxes that gave token of departure. " No," replied Helen Dupr6, looking up from her la- bot with a glowing face, " necessity admits of no persua- sion, and having accomplished my mission here, and helped transform my little Julie into the prettiest brid^in the country, to-morrow I depart for the pleasant south land, * Where skies are bright, and flowers are fair,' '* -*^ 12 C A S I E . Her voice was full and clear as a nightingale's, and the warialed strain with, which her words ended seemed to gush forth as naturally as song from a bird. " You*are*enthusiastic," replied Mts. Avengl, smiling, as she thiew off her bonnet and shawl, and began folding some of the articles that were spread on the sofa near — " very enthusiastic you are, Miss Helen. Even for the sake of hearing you sing it, I wouldn't have you add the next line of the song, — Tor 0, 1 pine, I perisll here.' " , " Indeed, I hope not," added a gentle voice by her side, " for by and by, when we go to housekeeping, I shall insist on having Helen come and live with us." " Hear the child," cried Helen, laughing ; " it has been two days married, and it gives itself airs already, and talks of the dignity of a householder." " Heax ihe old maid," retorted Julie, half pettishly ; " she pretends to be so much in love vrith school keeping that she won't promise to leave it, even to please her brother, who loves her so well." ^ " Or little Julie, whom she loves so well," replied Helen, throwing her arms around the slight, girlish figure of her young sister-in-law, and half smothering her with kisses. Julie extricated herself, blushing and laughing, a'ad%th her golden curls all dishevelled; and then, turning appealingly to Mrs. Avenel, she said, " Isn't THE SCHOOLMISIBESS. 13 she Ipstinate ? She will - go, in spite of all our persua- sions, and she .knows we had so much rather havg her at home." " Don't £i^peal to her, for she knows my decision is right,'' said .Helen cheerfully, but firmly. " You and Charles must be satisfied with each other for a while at least, and leave the schoolmistress to return to her voca- tion. It is a pleasant vocation, though you do not think so, little Julie, and I am far happier there than if I were spending my time in idle dependence on my brother.'' "But why not pursue your vocation nearer home," said Mrs. Avenel, " since your friends desire it so much ? " " Perhaps I niay, at some future time, but now I have really no desire for change. It is pleasant to be here, but my brother needs me less than ever, now he has a wife, and I have been so long with Mrs. Warner that my home there has grown dear to me, and little Emma Warner is the loveliest child you ever saw." " She was named for Mr. Avenel's mother,'.' said Mrs. Avenel. " She and Mrs. Warner have always been very intimate friends." " Yes," replied Helen, " and I think the child is like her namesake. What a gentle, lovely woman she is ! " " She is, indeed, and the last tune she visited us, she seemed more cheerful than I had seen her before for many years. Now she has recovered from the first shock of her husband's sudden death, she is recovering also from 9. 14 CASTE. the petrifying influence lie used to exert over her4(|^ You did not know him ? " " I (inly saw him once, two years ago, when I first went to Mrs. Warner's — he came there with his'wife to dine one day. But they say Mrs. Colonel Bell is just like him, and she is a perfect incarnation of pride and selfishness." " She is still very beautiful, I suppose ? " asked Mrs. Avenel, musingly, while the shade of sad or disagreeable recollections passed over her face. " Beautiful ! yes, but so haughty and cold. I shall never forget how astonished she was, to find that Mrs. Warner intended to regard the governess of her grand- children as an equal and a friend. She is obliged to treat me civilly when we happen to meet at her mother's, — where I go very often with Mrs. Warner, — but she takes good care to let me see that she is condescending to do so, and I take equal pains to make her understand that I consider myself fully her equal, in every respect. You smile,- Mrs. Avenel, but this is not pride in me ; it is only a commendable self-respect." " There is a difference, I admit," replied her friend. " Nobody would venture to afiirm that Helen was proud," said Julie, with an arch glance from her blue eyes ; " no, she is neither proud nor obstinate, in adher- ing to her decision to leave us." " True, O most wise Julie," answered Helen. " Call it firirmess and independence of character, and you will SHE KEMAINS OBSTINATE. 15 get the right words in which to descrihe this marvellous decision. Listen, little sister, and urge me no more," she added, smoothing the soft curls that were nestling by her side. " Charles is younger than I, and having been but a year in business, before he was foolish enough to marry, — for which, to be sure, I don't blame him, since he had so strong temptation, — I want him to get more firmly es- tablished, and what we Yankees call ' ahead in the world,' before he has any beside his wife to support. By and by, when the children come, and these two little hands find themselves failing to supply the demand for care and com- fort, it will be time for me to return, for then I can really be of use." " Nonsense," replied the young wife, blushing violently ; " as if I wanted you for the work you'd do ! I tell you it is only for ornament we want you ; nobody thought of your being of any use." " Thank you ; then I won't come," said Helen, with a snule of fond admiration, as she met the mischievous look that accompanied these words. " But then," continued Julie, " it is likely you'll be married to some one of your rich southern adinirers." "Nonsense," cried Helen; "rich southern gentlemen don't bestow much admiration on Yankee schoolma'ams. It is only in story books you find such a consummation to their toils." " O, but you are no common schoolmistress," persisted IS CASTE. JiUie. " You, so beautiful, so accomplished — you'll find your leau ideal one of these days, fastidious as you are. Or, perhaps, some of my romantic visions -will be fulfilled, and you'll find your unknown relations. Don't look sober now, and shake your head at me, for this hope is the only thing that really reconciles me to your sojourn in that far- ofi' land." " Dream no dreams, little sister," said Helen, her gay- ety of tone and manner vanishing as she spoke ; and just then some one calling Julie, she hastened away, with the quick-springing step of a child. Helen looked after her, thoughtfully, for a moment, and then, leaving the trunk she had been filling, she sat down in the windo.w recess beside her friend, and said sadly, " I wish Julie wouldn't talk so much upon that subject. She is a thoughtless little creature, and does not seem to imagine that, if the mystery which excites her romantic brain, were solved, the knowledge we should acquire might be more painful than ignorance." " Have you then no curiosity to penetrate the secret of your birth and parentage ? " said Mrs. Avenel. " Very little," replied Helen, " and that little accompa- nied by a painful, shrinking dread, which I wonder at, though I cannot conquer. Charles does not feel so, it may be because he has none of the vague recollections which haunt me." "Have you, then, any remembrance of your chUd- EAELY RECOLLECTIONS. ' 17 tood," asked Mrs. Avenel, with great interest. -" I have often wished to ask you, but you rather avoided the sub- ject." " I confess I don't like to talk abqjit it," replied Helen, " and yet I can hardly tell why. I have indistinct memo- ries of living in some tropical climate, in rooms gorgeously furnished, and of two persons whom I used to call papa and mamma ; but there must have been some trouble or sorrow in that home, wherever it was, for I have impres- sions of dread and fear connected with it. The first thing I remember distinctly, is living with my little brother in a small cottage, under the care of an old black woman. Then we must have travelled for some distance by water, for I have confused images of vessels and the ocean ; and then we were left at our home in C , in Mr. Evans'o family." " Did the person who brought you give .any accom^ of himself to you, or leave any clew by which he could be traced ? " " None," replied Helen. " He said he-wished to place us at that school, and paid a year's tuition in advance. This of course excited no particular inquiry ; and Mr. Evans told me, he did not notice until after the stranger had left, that he gave no address and expressed no wish to hear of our progress. Supposing, however, that a let- ter would soon arrive and remedy this oversight, he felt no uneasiness ; but month after month rolled away, and 2 * 18 CASTE. nothing was heard from the stranger, until the year had passed, and then came a remittance suiEcient to cover ex- penses for another year. And so it went on until it came to be a matter of cot^fse, and Mr. and Mrs. Evans began to look upon us as their own children, and to care for the forsaken orphans with a tender kindness which we can never repay." " And since you were eighteen you have heard nothing from your unknown friend, 1 think you told me," said Mrs. Avenel. " Nothing since then. At that time, instead of tho usual remittance, there came three thousand dollars, and a few lines, saying no further aid could be expected. As Charles was two years younger than myself, I persuaded Mr. Evans to reserve &e most of this sum for his benefit, — to educate and set him up in business, — and my share he is to repay when he gets rich," she added with a faint smile. " Part of the money Mr. Evans spent in travel- ling and making such inquiries as he thought advisable ; but they elicited nothing. We had no clew to guide us, for the money had been sent, sometimes from one city and sometim.es from another, though always from the south. I wanted him to go, and he went at my sugges- tion ; but I was almost glad when he came back as igno- rant as he went." " What is it that you dread ? " said Mrs. Avenel, after a short pause. AP PREH EK SI ONS . 19- Helen's eyes fell beneath the kind but curious gaze of her friend, and she blushed violently as she replied, — " I am almost sure that my parents did not live happily together, and sometimes I fear there was sin as well as unhappiness." " Dear Helen, don't distress yourself with such ideas," exclaimed Mrs. Avenel, repenting the curiosity that ha^ elicited this unexpected reply. " Whatever may have been your parentage, you have won our love and esteem ; and your purity and nobleness of character contradict the supposition of the evil you dread. Rely upon yourself and your friends, and don't let your feelings become mor- bid, and imbitter the happiness life might otherwise bring you." " I do try to prevent it," said Helen, making an effort to speak cheerfully ; " and since I always grow sad in dwelling on the past, you see I am wise in seldom refer- ring to it. Let us talk of something else, now — Julie and Charles, who are such an innocent-hearted pair of lovers, that to be with them gives one a glimpse of the lost joys of paradise — or your husband and children, and your own happy home." " Here comes my husband now," Said Mrs. Avenel, laughing, " and so I have no time to stay and talk of any body else ; for he will call for me, and both he and his horse have their full share of the masculine impatience that never likes to wait." 20 C A S I E . " And, after twelve years of matrimony, i^oU indulge your husband in that same lordly impatience ! Quille folie ! " " Twelve years ! My dear, what difference does time make ! " cried Mrs. Avenel, as she hastily ^nned her shawl and bonnet, and ran down stairs to meet her hus- ' What difference, indeed ! " thought Helen, as, having ^ade them good by, she stood looking after them as they drove away. " * Time but impreesion deeper makes, As streams their chamiels deeper Tvear,' and has no power to cloy the happiness of that true marriage." With a sigh, almost of envy, Helen turned away to finish her preparations for departure. Full as she was of hope and courage, her own life seemed for a moment too barren, too iacomplete, in contrast with the rich fullness of blessing that crowned her friend. The conversation which we have related has disclosed much of the life of Helen and Charles Dupre, and little more remains to be told. Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who had been the guardians of their desolate childhood, were teachers of a family school in one of the towns of central New York. Here they had remained until the time re- ferred; to by Helen, when, in her eighteenth year, they received intimation that the supplies which had hitherto supported them woidd cease. SELF-DEPENDENCE. 21 Sh.e was then well educated, and accomplished far be- yond the usual school-girl standard, and being naturally endowed ^vith strength and energy of character, she deter- mined that the money which accompanied this intimation should be kept as a reserved fund, and from that day she had labored for her own support. At first she assisted Mr. Evans in his school, and then taught in other schools in the vicinity, gradually attaining more and more experi- ence and reputation, until she was invited to take care of the female academy in the town of . Mr. Avenel's two eldest children were among her first pupils, and as Mrs. Avenel always endeavored to be well acquainted with the person who was to have a teacher's influence over the young minds committed to her guidance, she soon found in Helen a congenial friend, for whose welfare her generous nature exerted itself in every possible manner. Charles Dupre had decided to be a merchant, and it was Mr. Avenel's influence that procured him a situation in the flourishing establishment of his friend Mr. Conant, who gave him a home in his family, and afterwards, when the young clerk had proved himself reliable, permitted Tiitn to woo and win the little Julie Conant to be his wife. Two years before the time our story opens, the widow Avenel had written from South Caroliaa to her son in be- half of her neighbor and friend Mrs. Warner, who was in great want of a governess for two grandchildren left in her care. 22 CASTE. Moreover, Mrs. Warner wanted a companion and friend to aid in beguiling her lonely hours ; and if a combination of these desirable qualities could be. found, no sum of money would be considered too great to repay such services. Mrs. Avenel knew comparatively little of Mrs. Warner ; but she remembered her as amiable and kind hearted, and she was the bosom friend of her gentle' mother-in- law, and so she did not hesitate to urge Helen Dupr6 to accept the invitation. . Helen was fond of excitement and variety, and the in- vitation came at a time when Mrs. Evans's death and Mr. Evans's failing health had induced the latter to break up his- school and go to spend his declining years with his sons, who were married and settjed in New York city. Her old home thus destroyed, she had less reason to regret the change of locality, and had spent two very happy years at the south ; and now, after assisting at her brother's wedding, she was about to return thither. Mr. Avenel was one of those noble sons of the south, who, in the face of a host of prejudices, and contending against .innumerable difficulties, have been true to the convictions of duty with regard to the unfortunate beings which the laws gave them the power to deprive of the rights of freemen. In executing his philanthropic designs, Edgar Avenel was much assisted by his generous and high-hearted wife THE COST OF DOING KIGHT. 23 who shrank from no sacrifice, and cheerfully endured the privations attending their altered circumstances, when for a few years he was obliged to depend upon his own exer- tions for the support of his family. The slaves to whom he had given liberty constituted nearly all his available wealth. He had inherited them from his mother, who died when he was very young, and his father was so much incensed at what he was pleased to consider Edgar's childish and unpardonable obstinacy, that he sternly for- bade him ever again to enter his doors, and destroying in his presence a will formerly made,)(flhformed him that lienceforth his sister Clara, the child:of a second marriage, should be sole heiress of the family estates. This sister, a haughty and selfi'sh girl, had no sympathy with |his feelings, and little pity for his trials, which she deemed a legitimate punishment for the visionary folly to which he had yielded himself ; and the disinherited man would have left his father's house hopeless of any future reconciliation, had it not been for the kindness of his step-mother, who, though she doubted the expediency of his conduct, had the warmest .admiration for, its self- sacrificing heroism. Mrs. Avenel was a silent and timid woman, and had little courage to oppose the fixed preju- dices which her husbaoid expressed so loudly and bit- terly ; but she hoped to influence him through her daughter, whose nature was more congenial with his own, and whose lightest wish he had from infancy indulged without restraint. 24 CASTE. This hope was vain. Clara was secretly too well pl%jig,4 with the additiopal wealth and importance thus acqiured to plead very earnestly for her brother, and unmoved by her mother's anxiety for Edgar, but jealous of the affec- tion it evinced,, she covertly widened, instead of lessening, the preach which had, so entirely divided the family. Tius years passed, on, and at length Mr. Avenel died sud- denly, a few months after, hp had given his daughter in marriage to a rmllionnsiire ; and thqughin life's last hour thexe was a natural relenting of heart towards .his only son, it came too 1^ to allow of any change in the dispo- sition of his property, the greater part of which ^h^d been devised to Clara, and her mother in vain besought her to allow the will to be set- aside. But Edgar Avenel had removed to a large and flourish- ing town in the interior of New Yorfc, drawn thither by the persuasions of a friend of his college days, and in- duced to remain by the natural be^iuty of its location, and the facilities it afforded for business. Establishing him- self as a lawyer, he speedily acquired reputation and in- fluence, and at length, by a series of fortunate investments, he was placed in such a position, that this final disappoints ment of his faintly-cherished expectations was not so hard to bear as it would once have been. His father had lived to know that by his personal abilities and exertions he had acquired wealth, and Ms children were not beggarly dependants on his sister's bounty, as she had sneeringly THE BBOTHEB AND S I S T E B. . 25 prophesied when they parted ; and whm. he was told that Ms father had forgiven and blessed him before he died, he felt an honest pride in assuring Clara that he needed and asked for nothing more. . But the mother was pained and mortified at the dispo- sition which her child had manifested. Her generous nature was unable to comprehend the heartless selfishness that induced Clara to take possession' of estates which should have been her brother's, and her remonstrances were so earnest that she was never fully forgiven for them, but from that titne forward was treated with reserve and coldness by the child on whom she had lavished only too much affection. Helen had nearly finished her preparation, and was strapping her trunks, when the door opened again, and Charles Dupre entered, with his wife clinging to his. arm. Between the brother and sister there was a striking like- ness, and as she rose to meet hjm,' they might have been taken for models of masculine and feminine beauty. There was the same erect, graceful figure, rather taller in each than the medium size of the sex, the same clear, dark complexion, and large, soft, black eyes. Only the masses of .raven hair waved above Helen's broad, low brow, and over her delicate little ears, falling in a few loose ringlets firom the gathered braids behind ; while Charles's classic head was crowned with a profusion of short, sUky 3 26 CASTE . curls ; and the liifts of the mouth, and chin which, on her face, were firm and finely cut, on his were more full and rounding, betokening a more facile disposition, and a spirit less easily moved to anger. There could not have been found a greater contrast J;o these two, than the yoimg creature who stood looking up in their faces by the flickering firelight. She had hardly numbered eighteen years, and she looked even younger, for her figure was small and delicate, her complexion pure as a lily, and her golden curls, soft and fine as floss ^k, fell over mild blue eyes, that hid beneath their lashes if one sought to gaze into them ; and her face was so innocent and childlike in its expression, that while looking at her, one experienced an involuntary desire that a being so pure and so helpless should never be called to encounter the storms of Kfe. Little besides sunshine had she known through the summer holiday of her existence. Every body called her " little Julie," every body petted and loved her, and to all her family it would have seemed a strange and incongruous thing to have seen tears in her gentle, s milin g eyes, or sadness on her brow. CHAPTER SECOND, "Her eye's dark charm 'twere T^in to tell; Bat gaze on that of a gazelle, It will asBifitthy fancy well j Ab large, as languishlngly dark, The soul beamed forth Irom every spark Thai darted from beneath the lid. * « 9): $ On her fair cheek's unfading hue, The young pomegranate's blossoms strew Their bloom in blushes ever new," The next morning, Helen left her brother's home. The gentleman in whose c£|.r,e sjie travelled, accompanied her as far as Wilmington, and frpm there she -syas to go on alone. But in these days, travelling has been reduced to a system, and to the initiated, even though she be a solitary female, there is little cause found for annoyance or fear, save in those "unavoidable" accidents which often preclude the iiecessity of any further journeying in this world. Therefore it was with a quiet heart that Helen bade farewell to her fellow-traveller, whose bugi;ness called him to another part of the state, and having secured the good graces of the immense specimen of colored humanity who presided over the ladies' cabin, and made arrangements 28 C A S X E . for tke time when old ocean should assei-t. its prerogative to torment the body and try the soul, she took a book, and ascended to the outer air. It was a sunny morning, and the dark forests which fringe the low shores of the river had just been, making their annual abortive effort to clothe themselves with a brighter shade of green, in honor of the advancing summer. As the rheumatic old boat creaked and trembled on its ^vay, Helen watched the smoke of the turpentine facto; ries lowering along the horizon, the fish leaping here and there above the surface of the river, as if anxious to es- cape frora its muddy depths, the skeletons of dead trees, that rose in ghastly whiteness over the reedy shoals, and wearying at length of the monotony, which even the clear w: and the glowing sunlight could not enliven, she estab-. lished herself in a shady corner, and dropping her veU, gave herself up to the charm of the romance she was reading. As she changed her seat, a gentleman who had been leaning dreamily over the railing at this side of the deck turned, to see who .approached, and catching a glimpse of her face before the thick veil had hid it, started suddenly, and. half changing his position, fixed his eyes on her with a prolonged gaze that sorutioized every article of her dress, feom the crgwn of her bonnet to the sole of her shoe. With a half sigh, as if some sad memory had risen ABECOGNIIION. 29 before him, he recollected himself at length, and turned back to his listless ■watching of the passing waters ; but again and again his furtive glance sought Helen's stiU figure, and every moment he seemed to grow more per- plexed and uneasy. He was a tall, well-formed man, with an ordinaryJooking, but not unintelligent face, and there was about his dress an air of carelessness that made him look almost untidy, thpugh the materials were unex- ceptionable and scrupulously neat. One would have said he was a bachelor, of middle age, who had ceased to care for appearances, and was content if comfortable. Attentively as he had watched her, Helen had been unaware of his notice, and quietly continued her reading, until the shrill whistle of the boat gave token of its ap- proach to Oldtowji- Then raising her veil, she was about to watch the passengers hurrying ashore, when her atten- tion was arrested by a faint exclamation near her. She looked around, and for the first time met his look, so ear- nest and piercing now as almost to startle her. For one moment he stood like one lost in painful amaze, and then raising his hands slowly, he exclaimed aloud, " My God ! it is herself — her very self! " These words, which were uttered in a voice of sharp distress, completed Helen's terror, and caused several of the passengers who were promenading the deck to pause and look on with extreme curiosity ; and one of the gen- tlemen, whose venerable years and kindness of expres- 3* 30 CASTE. sion entitled him to confidence, seeing Helen's confasion, stepped forward and offered her Ms arm, saying, — " Do not be alarmed. Do you know this gentleman, and will you speak to him, or would you like to retire to your state room ? " She took his arm, but did not reply, or move to go towards the cabin. She was fascinated by the mid, dark, glittering eyes, which were still riveted on her face, with a magnetism that agitated her, she scarce knew why. .Thus they stood, until the stranger, arousing from his trance of emotion, noticed the curious eyes bent upon him by those around, and with a powerful effort at self- control, which could not entirely quell his ;^erturbation, he said, confusedly, " Pardon me — I know I am rude, but this lady looks so much like one I knew and lost ! Who. is she ? What is her name ? Do you know, sir ? " he asked, laying his hand eagerly on the arm of her self- constituted protector. He turned to her ah inquiring glance, and she whis- pered, " Miss Dupre." He repeated it to the stranger. A peculiar expression, almost like a convulsion, passed over his face as he heard it. " Helen Dupre ? " he asked in smothered tones. She nodded affirmatively. " And you are going to the south to reside ? " he con- tinued, in a tone that was more an exclamation than a question. BECOGNITION ON ONE SIDE ONLY. 31 Agadn sie nodded, and was about to express her sur- prise at teing known to him, when he turned suddenly away, and shut himself up in his state room, which was one of the range that opened on the deck where they were standing. His abrupt departure astonished them even more than his previous manner. Weak and trembling, Helen re- leased the arm to which she had clung, and dropped into her chair. The stranger's kind face expressed only sur- prise, but she was beginning to feel very much annoyed at being thus forced into public notice. "It is Very unpleasant ! " she said. "What can the man mean ? " " It is very strange," replied her friend. " Have you ever met him before ? " " Never, that I remember; and yet," she added, struck by a sudden recollection, " he knew my name, and so he must have seen me beifore. Do you know him ? " " I do not. I would make inquiries, but I must hurry on shore, for I leave the boat here. I hope you will have no further trouble; but if you do yOU "had better spfeak to the captain, who will protect you. The man may be crazy." So saying, he bade her a courteous farewell, and with regret she saw him go away. She pondered in amaze- ment on this strange incident during the rest of the morning ; but her mysterious interlocutor did not again 32 c A s X s . appear, and she had somewbat reeovered feom her excite- ment when the whistle again, sounded, and the boat drew up to the solitary wharf of the quiet little Tillage of Smith- town. They were at the mouth of the rirer, and sweeping fer away to the horizon the ocean lay before them ; but their further progress was stayed. They must wait for that whi^ waits for no man ; for the tide was out, and the sand bar could not be crossed. There was the usual amount of impatience and scoldii^ among the passengers, and then they scattered hither and thither, in groups, sauntering along the shore or through the sandy street, where barren desolation was relieved by a few noble live oa^ — Qie only things in the town which seemed aUve. Helen stood looking out over the scene, when a hand was laid lightly on her arm, and a voice .spoke her name. Even before she turned to see who was beside her she recognized that voice, and her heart sent the warm blood with a telltale quickness to her cheek, and her eyes sparkled with a joy that contradicted the quiet coldness of lier maimer, as, after the first involuntary start of sur- prise, she said, " Ah, Mr. Hubert — this is unexpected !" An expression of disappointment clouded his brow at this reception ; but when he had cast one quick, searching glance into her liiice, it passed away, and he answered, — " Entirely unexpected to me, I assure you. It was 1^ the merest chance that I hurried all day yesterday to get A D U E L. 33 tlffough with, the business which brought me here, so that I might take the boat to-day ; for I hadn't the slightest idea you were any where in this region." His manner was such an exaggerated imitation of hers, that Helen could hardly help laughing ; and in her confusion she asked him what was the business which brought him so far from home. " I hardly like to confess it, but I came here to fight a duel," he replied, gravely. " To fight a duel ! " exclaimed Helen, iacredulously. " Yes. The worst enemy I ever had has been annoy- ing me past all endurance, lately ; and after having sev- eral encounters, ia which I was always worsted, we ap- pointed a meeting beyond the bounds of the state. He avoided me for a while, when he saw me so determined on vengeance ; but yesterday we met on board the United States cutter, in which one of my friends persuaded me to accompany him from Wilmington to this place, and after we arrived here we had a meeting, which was fatal to him." " What are you telling me ? Can this -be true ? " said Helen. "I am sorry to say it is but sober truth," replied he. " I have sufiered much on account of it, but it is over now." " And you have killed him ? " « I have kUled him ! " 34 CASTE. Helen looked at him with surprise and distress, uncer- tain of the truth of this narration, and yet half convinced by his manner. At length she asked, " Did you meet him.alone ? Were there no witnesses ? " 'tWe had our seconds, of course. Every thing was conducted in the most honorable manner. His friend's name was Light — a Mr. Light, commonly called Sun Light, who enabled my opponent to hold his own for many hours against me. My friend was a Mr. Hope." " O Hubert," exclaimed Helen, " you are quizzing me. Who was your opponent ? " " It was a French gentleman — M- Le Temps," replied Hubert, the-gravi