Macaria

M A C AE I A.

BY AUGUSTA J. EVANS,

AUTHOR OF ' BEULAH."

"We have all to be laid upon an altar; we have all, as it were, to be sub
jected to the action of fire."— MELVILL.

NEW YORK:

JOHN BRADBUKN, PUBLISHER,

(LATE M..DOOLADY),

49 WALKER STREET.

1864.

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1864, by
M . D 0 0 L A D Y ,

In tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for th«
Southern District of New York.

MAC ARIA.

CHAPTER I.

THE town-clock was on the last stroke of twelve, the solitary
candle measured but two inches from its socket, and as the sum
mer wind rushed through the half-closed shutters, the melted
tallow dripped slowly into the brightly-burnished brazen can
dlestick. The flickering light fell upon grim battalions of figures
marshalled on the long, blue-lined pages of a ledger, and flashed
fitfully in the face of the accountant, as" he bent over his work.
In these latter days of physical degeneration, such athletic frames
as his are rarely seen among the youth of our land. Sixteen
years growth had given him unusual height and remarkable
breadth of chest, and it was difficult to realize that the stature
of manhood had been attained by a mere boy in years. A gray
suit (evidently home-made), of rather coarse texture, bespoke
poverty ; and, owing to the oppressive heat of the atmosphere,
the coat was thrown partially off. He wore no vest, and the
loosely-tied black ribbon suffered the snowy white collar to fall
away from the throat and expose its well-turned outline. The
head was large, but faultlessly proportioned, and the thick black
hair, cut short and clinging to the temples, added to its massive-
ness. The lofty forehead, white and smooth, the somewhat
heavy brows matching the hue of the hair, the straight, finely-
formed nose with its delicate but clearly-defined nostril, the full,
firm lips unshaded by mustache, combined to render the face one
of uncommon beauty. Yet, as he sat absorbed by his figures,
there was nothing prepossessing or winning in his appearance,
for though you could not carp at the moulding of his features,

MI74953

MACAEIA ; OE,

you involuntarily shrank from the prematurely grave, nay, aus
tere expression which seemed habitual to them. He looked just
what he was, youthful in months and years, but old in trials,
sorrows, and labors, and to one who analyzed his countenance,
the conviction was inevitable that his will was gigantic, his ambi
tion unbounded, his intellect wonderfully acute and powerful. It
is always sad to remark in young faces the absence of that beam
ing enthusiasm which only a joyous heart imparts, and though in
this instance there was nothing dark or sinister, you could not
fail to be awed by the cold, dauntless resolution which said so
plainly: "I struggle, and shall conquer. I shall mount, though
the world defy me." Although he had labored, since dawn,
there was no drooping of the muscular frame, no symptom of fa
tigue, save in the absolute colorlessness of his face. Firm as
some brazen monument on its pedestal, he sat and worked on,
one hand wielding the pen, the other holding down the leaves
which fluttered, now and then, as the breeze passed over them.

" Russell, do you know it is midnight ?"

He frowned, and answered without looking up.

" Yes."

" How much longer will you sit up ?"

" Till I finish my work."

The speaker stood on the threshold, leaning against the door-
facing, and, after waiting a few moments, softly crossed the room
and put her hand on the back of his chair. She was two years
his junior, and though evidently the victim of recent and severe
illness, even in her feebleness she was singularly like him. Her
presence seemed to annoy him, for he turned round, and said has
tily: " Electra, go to bed. I told you good-night three hours
ago."

She stood still, but silent.

" What do you want ?"

11 Nothing."

He wrote on for some ten minutes longer, then closed the led
ger and put it aside. The candle had burned low ; he took a
fresh one from the drawer of the table, and, after lighting it,
drew a Latin dictionary near to him, opened a worn copy of

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 5

Horace, and began to study. Quiet as his own shadow stood
the fragile girl behind his chair, but as she watched him a heavy
sigh escaped her. Once more he looked up, with a finger still
in the dictionary, and asked impatiently :

11 Why on earth don't you go to sleep ?"

" I can't sleep ; I have tried my best."

"Are you sick again, my poor little cousin ?"

He stretched out his arm, and drew her close to him.

" No ; but I know you are up, hard at work, and it keeps me
awake. If you would only let me help you."

" But you can't help me ; I have told you so time and again.
You only interrupt and hinder me."

She colored, and bit her lip ; then answered sorrowfully :

" If I thought I should be weak and sickly all my life, I
would rather die at once, and burden you and auntie no longer."

" Electra, who told you that you burdened me ?"

" Oh, Russell ! don't I know how hard you have to work ;
and how difficult it is for^you to get even bread and clothes.
Don't I see how auntie labors day after day, and month after
month ? You are good and kind, but does that prevent my
feeling the truth, that you are working for me too ? If I could
only help you in some way." She knelt down by his chair and
leaned her head on his knee, holding his hands between both
hers.

" Electra, you do help me ; all day long when I am at the
store your face haunts, strengthens me ; I feel that I am striving
to give you comforts, and when at night you meet me at the gate,
I am repaid for all I have done. You must put this idea out of
your head, little one ; it is altogether a mistake. Do you hear
what I say ? Get up, and go to sleep like a good child, or you
will have another wretched headache to-morrow, and can't bring
me my lunch."

He lifted her from the floor, and kissed her hastily. She raised
her arms as if to wind them about his neck, but his grave face
gave her no encouragement, and turning away she retired to her
room, with hot tears rolling over her cheeks. Russell had
scarcely read half a dozen lines after his cousin's departure when

6 MACARIA ; OK,

a soft hand swept back the locks of hair on his forehead, and
wiped away the heavy drops that moistened them.

" My son, you promised me you would not sit up late to
night."

'• Well, mother, I have almost finished. Remember the nights
are very short now, and twelve o'clock comes early."

" The better reason that you should not be up so late. My
son, I am afraid you will ruin your health by this unremitting ap
plication."

" Why — look at me. I am as strong as an athlete of old."
He shook his limbs and smiled, proud of his great physical
strength.

" True, Russell, but, robust as you are, you cannot stand such
toil without detriment. Put up your books."

" Xot yet ; I have more laid out, and you know I invariably
finish all I set apart to do. But, mother, your hand is hot ; you
are not well." He raised the thin hand, and pressed it to his
lips.

" A mere headache, nothing more. Mr. Clark was here to
day ; he is very impatient about the rent ; I told him we were
doing all we could, and thought that by September we should be
able to pay the whole. He spoke of going to see you, which I
urged him not to do, as you were exerting yourself to the ut
most." She scanned his face while she spoke, and noted the
compression of his mouth. He knew she watched him, and an
swered with a forced smile : " Yes, he came to the store this
morning. I told him we had been very unfortunate this year in.
losing our only servant ; and that sickness had forced us to in
cur more expense than usual. However, I drew fifty dollars,
and paid him all I could. True, I anticipated my dues, but Mr.
Watson gave me permission. So for the present you ne.ed not
worry about rent."

" What is the amount of that grocery bill you would not let
me see last week ?"

" My dear mother, do not trouble yourself with these little
matters ; the grocery bill will very soon be paid. I have ar
ranged with Mr. Hill to keep his books at night, and therefore,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 7

you may be easy. Trust all to me, mother ; only take care of
your dear self, and I ask no more."

" Oh, Russell ! my son, my son !n

She had drawn a chair near him, and now laid her head on his
shoulder, while tears dropped on his hand. He had not seen her
so unnerred for years, and as he looked down on her grief-
stained, yet resigned face, his countenance underwent a marvellous
change ; and, folding his arms about her, he kissed her pale, thin
cheek repeatedly.

" Mother, it is not like you to repine in this way ; you who
have suffered and endured so much must not despond, when, after
a long, starless night the day begins to dawn.^

'• I fear ' it dawns in clouds, and heralds only storms.'*7 For
myself I care not, but for you. Russell — my pride, my only hope,
my brave boy ! it is for you that I suffer. I have been thinking
to-night that this is a doomed place for you, and that if we could
only save money enough to go to California, you might take the
position you merit ; for there none would know of the blight
which fell upon you ; none could look on your brow and dream
it seemed sullied. Here you have such bitter prejudice to com
bat ; snch gross injustice heaped upon you.77

He lifted his mothers head from his bosom, and rose, with a
haughty, defiant smile on his lip.

" Xot so ; I will stay here, and lire down their hate. Mark
me, mother, I will live it down, so surely as I am Russell Aubrey,

the despised son of a . Let them taunt and sneer ! let

them rake up the smouldering ashes of the miserable past, to
fling in my face and blind me ; let them, and welcome ! I
will gather up these same ashes, dry and bitter, and hide them
with sacred zeal in a golden urn ; and I will wreathe it with
chaplets that never die. Aye ! the Phoenix lies now in dust,
but one day the name of Aubrey win rise in more than pristine
glory ; and mine be the hand to resurrect its ancient splendor.
* Mens cuj usque is est quisque !' Menzikoft; who ruled the
councils of the Kremlin in its palmiest days, once sold pies for a
living in the streets of Moscow, 'liens cujusque is est quisque /'
I will owe no man thanks j none >r.An point to me and say, ' He

8

was drowning in the black, seething gulf of social prejudice, and
I held out a finger, and clinging to it he lived/ Not so ! dollar
for dollar, service for service, I will pay as I rise. I scorn to ask
favors, I am glad none are tendered me. I have a grim satisfac
tion in knowing that I owe no human being a kinkness, save you,
my precious mother. Go to California ! not I ! not I. In this
state will I work and conquer ; here, right here, I will plant my
feet upon the necks of those that now strive to grind me to the
dust. I swore it over my father's coffin I I tell you, mother, I
will trample out the stigma, for, thank God I ' there is no free-
trade measure which will ever lower the price of brains.' "

" Hush, Russell, you must subdue your fierce temper ; you
must 1 you must I remember it was this ungovernable rage
which brought disgrace upon your young, innocent head. Oh !
it grieves me, my son, to see how bitter you have grown ; it
wrings my heart to hear you challenge fate, as you so often do.
Once you were gentle and forgiving ; now scorn and defiance
rule you."

" I am not fierce, I am not in a rage. Lay your hand upon
my temples — here on my wrist ; count the pulse, slow and
steady, mother, as your own. I am not vindictive ; am no
Indian to bear about a secret revenge, ready to consummate it
at the first propitious moment. If I should meet the judge and
jury who doomed my father to the gallows, I think I would
serve them if they needed aid. But I am proud ; I inherited
my nature ; I writhe, yes, mother, writhe under the treatment I
constantly receive. I defy fate ? Well, suppose I do : she has
done her worst. I have no quarrel with her for the past ; but
I will conquer her in the future. I am not bitter j would I not
give my life for you ? Are you not dearer to me thant my own
soul ? Take back your words, they hurt me • don't teU me that
I grieve you, mother."

His voice faltered an instant, and he put his arms tenderly
round the drooping form.

" We have trouble enough, my son, without dwelling upon
what is past and irremediable. So long as you seem cheerful, I
am content. I know that God will not lay more on me than I

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 9

can bear ; 'as my day, so shall my strength be.' Thy will be
done, oh ! my God."

There was a brief pause, and Russell Aubrey passed his hand
over his eyes and dashed off a tear. His mother watched him,
and said, cautiously :

" Have you noticed that my eyes are rapidly growing
worse ? "

" Yes, mother, I have been anxious for some weeks."

"You know it all, then?"

14 Yes, mother."

11 1 shall not murmur; I have become resigned at last; though
for many weeks I have wrestled for strength, for patience. It
was so exceedingly bitter to know that the time drew near when
I should see you no more ; to feel that I should stretch out my
hands to you, and lean on you, and yet look no longer on the
dear face of my child, my boy, my all. But my prayers were
heard ; the sting has passed away, and I am resigned. I am
glad that we have spoken of it ; now my mind is calmer, and I
can sleep. Good-night, my son."

She pressed the customary good-night kiss on his lips, and left
him. He closed the dictionary, leaned his elbow on the table,
and rested his head on his hand. His piercing black eyes were
fixed gloomily on the floor, and now and then his broad chest
heaved as dark and painful thoughts crowded up.

Mrs. Aubrey was the only daughter of wealthy and ambitious
parents, who refused to sanction her marriage with the object of
her choice ; and threatened to disinherit her if she persisted in
her obstinate course. Mr. Aubrey was poor, but honest, highly
cultivated, and, in eVery sense of that much-abused word, a gen
tleman. His poverty was not to be forgiven, however, and when
the daughter left her father's roof, and wedded the man whom her
parents detested, the die was cast ; she was banished forever from
a home of affluence, and found that she had indeed forfeited her
fortune. For this she was prepared, and bore it bravely; but ere
long severer trials came upon her. Unfortunately, her husband's
temper was fierce and ungovernable ; and pecuniary embarrass
ments rarely have the effect of sweetening such. He removed to

1*

10 MACAEIA ; OR,

an inland town, and embarked in mercantile pursuits ; but mis
fortune followed him, and reverses came thick and fast. One
miserable day, when from early morning every thing had gone
wrong, an importunate creditor, of wealth and great influence in
the community, chafed at Mr. Aubray's tardiness in repaying
some trifling sum, proceeded to taunt and insult him most un
wisely. Stung to madness, the wretched man resented the in
sults ; a struggle ensued, and at its close Mr. Aubrey stood over
the corpse of the creditor. There was no mode of escape, and
the arm of the law consigned him to prison. During the tedious
weeks that elapsed before the trial his devoted wife strove to
cheer and encourage him by every effort which one human being
can make for another. Russell was about eleven years of age,
and, boy though he was, realized most fully the horrors of his
parent's situation. The days of his trial came at last ; but he
had surrendered himself to the demon Rage, had taken the life
of a fellow creature ; what could legal skill accomplish ?
The affair produced great and continued excitement ; the
murdered man had been exceedingly popular, and the sym
pathies of the citizens were enlisted in behalf of his family.
Although clearly a case of manslaughter only, the violent
prejudices of the community and the exertions of influen
tial friends so biassed the jury that, to the astonishment of the
counsel on both sides, the cry of "blood for blood," went out
from that crowded court-room, and in defiance of precedent, Mr.
Aubrey was unjustly sentenced to be hung. When the verdict
was known, Russell placed his insensible mother on a couch from
which it seemed probable she would never rise. But there is an
astonishing amount of endurance in even a feeble woman's frame,
and after a time she went about her house once more, doing her
duty to her child and learning to " suffer and grow strong."
Fate had ordained, however, that Russell's father should not die
upon the gallows ; and soon after the verdict was pronounced,
when all Mrs. Aubrey's efforts to procure a pardon had proved
unavailing, the proud and desperate man, in the solitude of his
cell, with no eye but Jehovah's to witness the awful deed, the
consummation of his woes, took his own life — and with the aid

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 11

of a lancet launched his guilty soul into eternity. On the floor
of the cell was found a blurred sheet, sprinkled with blood,
directed to his wife, bidding her farewell, and committing her and
her boy to the care of an outraged and insulted God. Such was
the legacy of shame which Russell inherited ; was it any marvel
that at sixteen that boy had lived ages of sorrow ? Mrs. Aub
rey found her husband's financial affairs so involved that she
relinquished the hope of retaining the little she possessed, and re
tired to a small cottage on the outskirts of the town, where she
endeavored to support herself and the two dependent on her by
taking in sewing. Electra Grey was the orphan child of Mr.
Aubrey's only sister, who dying in poverty bequeathed the infant
to her brother. He had loved her as well as his own Russell,
and his wife, who cradled her in her arms and taught her to
walk by clinging to her finger, would almost as soon have parted
with her son as the little Electra. For five years the widow
had toiled by midnight lamps to feed these two ; now oppressed
nature rebelled, the long over-taxed eyes refused to perform their
office ; filmy cataracts stole over them, veiling their sadness and
their unshed tears — blindness was creeping on. At his father's
death Russell was forced to quit school, and with some difficulty
he succeeded in obtaining a situation in a large dry-goods store,
where his labors were onerous in the extreme, and his wages a
mere pittance. To domineer over those whom adverse fortune
places under their control is by no means uncommon among igno
rant and selfish men, whose industry has acquired independence ;
and though Russell's employer, Mr. Watson, shrank from com
mitting a gross wrong, and prided himself on his scrupulous
honesty, still his narrow mind and penurious habits strangled
every generous impulse, and, without being absolutely cruel or
unprincipled, he contrived to gall the boy's proud spirit and
render his position one of almost purgatorial severity. The ma
chinery of human will is occult and complicated ; very few
rigidly analyze their actions and discern the motives that impel
them, and if any one had told Jacob Watson that envy was the
secret spring which prompted his unfriendly course toward his
young clerk he would probably have indignantly denied the accu-

12 MACARIA ; OK,

sation. The blessing of an education had been withheld from,
him ; he grew up illiterate and devoid of refinement ; and deter
mined that his children should enjoy every advantage which
money could command. His eldest son was just Russell's age,
had been sent to various schools from his infancy, was indolent,
self-indulgent, and thoroughly dissipated. Having been a second
time expelled from school for most disgraceful misdemeanors, he
lounged away his time about the store, or passed it still more
disreputably with reckless companions.

The daily contrast presented by Cecil and Russell irritated
the father, and hence his settled dislike of the latter. The faith
ful discharge of duty on the part of the clerk afforded no plau
sible occasion for invective ; he felt that he was narrowly
watched, and resolved to give no ground for fault-finding ; yet
during the long summer days, when the intense heat prevented
customers from thronging the store, and there was nothing to be
done, when Russell knowing that the books were written up
and the counters free from goods, took his Latin grammar and
improved every leisure half-hour, he was not ignorant of the fact
that an angry scowl darkened his employer's visage, and under
stood why he was constantly interrupted to perform most un
necessary labors. But in the same proportion that obstacles
thickened, his energy and resolution doubled ; and herein one
human soul differs from another in strength of will, which fur
nishes powers of endurance. What the day denied him he
reclaimed from night, and succeeded in acquiring a tolerable
knowledge of Greek, besides reading several Latin books.
Finding that his small salary was inadequate, now that his
mother's failing sight prevented her from accomplishing the
usual amount of sewing, he solicited and obtained permission to
keep an additional set of books for the grocer who furnished his
family with provisions, though by this arrangement few hours
remained for necessary sleep. The protracted illness and death
of an aged and faithful servant, together with Electra's tedious
sickness, bringing the extra expense of medical aid, had pre
vented the prompt payment of rent due for the three-roomed
cottage, and Russell was compelled to ask for a portion of his

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 13

salary in advance. His mother little dreamed of the straggle
which took place in his heart ere he could force himself to make
the request, and he carefully concealed from her the fact that at
the moment of receiving the money, he laid in Mr. Watson's
hand by way of pawn the only article of any value which he
possessed, the watch his father had always worn, and which the
coroner took from the vest pocket of the dead, dabbled with
blood. The gold chain had been sold long before, and the son
wore it attached to a simple black ribbon. His employer re
ceived the watch, locked it in the iron safe, and Russell fastened
a small weight to the ribbon, and kept it around his neck that his
mother might not suspect the truth. It chanced that Cecil
stood near at the time ; he saw the watch deposited in the safe,
whistled a tune, fingered his own gold repeater, and walked
away. Such was Russell Aubrey's history ; such his situation
at the beginning of his seventeenth year. Have I a reader whose
fond father lavishes on him princely advantages, whose shelves
are filled with valuable, but unread volumes, whose pockets are
supplied with more than necessary money, and who yet saunters
through the precious season of youth failing utterly to appre
ciate his privileges ? Let him look back into that little room
where Russell sits, pale, wearied, but unbending, pondering his
dark future, planning to protect his mother from Want, and
racking his brain for some feasible method of procuring such
books as he absolutely needs ; books which his eager, hungry
eyes linger on as he passes the book-store every morning going
to his work. Oh, young reader ! if such I have, look at him
struggling with adversity as a strong swimmer with the murder
ous waves that lash him, and contrasting your own fortunate
position shake off the inertia that clings to you tenaciously as
Sinbad's burden, and go to work earnestly and bravely, thank
ing God for the aid he has given you.

" Disappointment's dry and bitter root,
Envy's harsh berries and the choking pool,
Of the world's scorn, are the right mother-milk
To the tough hearts that pioneer their kind."

14: MACARIA ; OR,

CHAPTER II.

" IRENE, your father will be displeased if he sees you in that
plight."

" Pray, what is wrong about me now ? You seem to glory
in finding fault. What is the matter with my ' plight' as you
call it ?"

" You know very well your father can't bear to see you carry
ing your own satchel and basket to school. He ordered Martha
to take them every morning and evening, but she says you will
not let her carry them. It is just sheer obstinacy in you."

" There it is again ! because I don't choose to be petted like a
baby, or made a wax doll of, it is set down to obstinacy, as if I
had the temper of a heathen. See here, aunt Margaret, I am
tired of having Martha tramping eternally at my heels as though
I were a two year old child. There is no reason in her walking
after me when I am strong enough to carry my own books, and
I don't intend she shall do it any longer."

" But, Irene, your father is too proud to have you trudging
along the road-, like any other beggar, with your books in one
arm and a basket swinging in the other. Just suppose the Car
ters or the Harrisses should meet you ? Dear me ! they would
hardly believe you belonged to a wealthy, aristocratic family like
the Huntingdons. Child, I never carried my own dinner to
school in my life."

" And I expect that is exactly the reason why you are forever
complaining, and scarcely see one well day in the three hundred
and sixty-five. As to what people think, I don't care a cent ;
as to whether my ancestors did or did not carry their lunch in
their own aristocratic hands is a matter of no consequence what
ever. I dispise all this ridiculous nonsense about aristocracy of
family, and I mean to do as I please. I thought that really
well-bred persons of high standing and birth could afford to be
silent on the subject, and that only parvenus, coarse, vulgar
people with a little money, put on those kind of airs, and pre-

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 15

tended to be shocked at what they had been accustomed to in
early life."

" I do not see where you get such plebeian ideas ; you posi
tively make me ashamed of you sometimes, when fashionable,
genteel persons come to the house. There is such a want of re
finement in your notions. You are anything but a Huntingdon."

" I am what God made me, aunt Margaret. If the Hunting-
dons stand high, it is because they won distinction by their own
efforts ; I don't want the stepping-stones of my dead ancestry ;
people must judge me for myself, not from what my grandmother
was."

Irene Huntingdon stood on the marble steps of her palatial
home, and talked with the maiden aunt who governed her father's
household. The girl was about fourteen, tall for her age, straight,
finely-formed, slender. The broad straw hat shaded, but by no
means concealed her features, and as she looked up at her aunt
the sunshine fell upon a face of extraordinary beauty, such as is
rarely seen, save in the idealized heads of the old masters. Her
hair was of an uncommon shade, neither auburn nor brown, but/
between gold and bronze ; and as the sun shone on it the rippling
waves flashed, until their burnished glory seemed a very aureola.
It was thick and curling ; she wore it parted on her pale, polish-
el forehead, and it hung around her like a gilded veil. The face
was an oval ; you might measure it by all the rules of art and
no imperfection could be found, unless the height of the brow
were considered out of proportion. The nose was delicate and
clearly cut, and in outline resembled that in the antique medals
of Olympias, the wife of Philip of Macedonia. The upper lip
was short, and curved like a bow ; the lower, thin, firm, and
straight. Her eyes were strangely, marvellously beautiful ; they
were larger than usual, and of that rare shade of purplish blue
which borders the white velvet petals of a clematis. When the
eyes were uplifted, as on this occasion, long, curling lashes of the
bronze hue of her hair rested against her brow. Save the scar
let lines which marked her lips, her face was of that clear, color-
lessness which can be likened only to the purest ivory. Though
there was an utter absence of the rosy hue of health, the trans-

16 MAC ART A ; OK,

parency of the complexion seemed characteristic of her type, and
precluded all thought of disease. People are powerfully at
tracted by beauty, either of form, color, or a combination of
both ; and it frequently happens that something of pain mingles
with the sensation of pleasure thus excited. Now, whether it be
that this arises from a vague apprehension engendered by the
evanescent nature of all sublunary things, or from the inability of
earthly types to satisfy the divine ideal which the soul enshrines,
I shall not here attempt to decide ; but those who examined
Irene's countenance were fully aware of this complex emotion ;
and strangers who passed her in the street felt intuitively that a
noble, unsullied soul looked out at them from the deep, calm,
thoughtful eyes. Miss Margaret muttered something inaudible
in reply to her last remark, and Irene walked on to school. Her
father's residence was about a mile from the town, but the
winding road rendered the walk somewhat longer ; and on one
side of this road stood the small house occupied by Mrs. Aubrey.
As Irene approached it she saw Electra Grey coming from the
opposite direction, and at the cottage gate they met. Both
paused ; Irene held out her hand cordially —

" Good morning. I have not seen you for a fortnight. I
thought you were coming to school again as soon as you were
strong enough ?"

" No ; I am not going back to school."

" Why ?"

" Because auntie can't afford to send me any longer. You
know her eyes are growing worse every day, and she is not able
to take in sewing as she used to do. I am sorry ; but it can't
be helped."

" How do you know it can't be helped ? Russell told me
he thought she had cataracts on her eyes, and they can be
removed."

" Perhaps so, if we had the means of consulting that cele
brated physician in New Orleans. Money removes a great many
things, Irie, but unfortunately we have n't it."

" The trip would not cost much ; suppose you speak to Rus
sell about it."

ALTAES OF SACKIFICE. 17

"Much or little, it will require more than we can possibly
spare. Everything is so high we can barely live as it is. But I
must go in, my aunt is waiting for me."

" Where have you been so early, Electra ? I hope you will
not think me impertinent in asking such a question."

"I carried this waiter full of bouquets to Mr. Carter's.
There is to be a grand dinner-party there to-day, and auntie
promised as many flowers as she could furnish. However, bou
quets pay poorly. Irie, wait one minute ; I have a little border
of mignonette all my own, and I should like to give you a
spray."

She hurried into the garden, and returning with a few delicate
sprigs, fastened one in her friend's belt and the remainder in the
ribbon on her hat.

" Thank you, Electra ; who told you that I love mignonette
so well ? It will not do for you to stay away from school ; I
miss you in my class, and besides, you are losing too much time.
Something should be done, Electra. Good-by."

They shook hands, and Irene walked on. " Something should
be done," she repeated, looking down fixedly yet vacantly at the
sandy road. Soon the brick walls of the academy rose grim and
uninviting, and taking her place at the desk she applied herself
to her books. When school was dismissed in the afternoon, in
stead of returning home as usual she walked down the principal
street, entered Mr. Watson's store, and put her books on the
counter. It happened that the proprietor stood near the front
door, and he came forward instantly to wait upon- her.

" Ah, Miss Irene ! happy to see you. What shall I have the
pleasure of showing you ?"

" Russell Aubrey, if you please."

The merchant stared, and she added :

" I want some kid gauntlets, but Russell can get them
for me."

The young clerk stood at the desk in the rear of the store,
with his back toward the counter ; and Mr. Watson called
out —

" Here, Aubrey, some kid gauntlets for this young lady."

18 MACAKIA ; OR,

He laid down his pen, and taking a box of gloves from the
shelves placed it on the counter before her. He had not noticed
her particularly, and when she pushed back her hat and looked
up at him he started slightly.

" Good-evening, Miss Huntingdon. What number do you
wish ?"

Perhaps it was from the heat of the day, or from stooping
over his desk, or perhaps it was from something else, but his
cheek was flushed, and gradually it grew pale again.

" Russell, I want to speak to you about Electra. She ought
to be at school, you know."

" Yes."

" But she says your mother can't afford the expense."

" Just now she can not ; next year things will be better."

" What is the tuition for her ?"

" Five dollars a month."

" Is that all ?"

He selected a delicate fawn-colored pair of gloves and laid
them before her, while a faint smile passed over his face.

" Russell, has anything happened ?"

" What do you mean ?"

" What is troubling you so ?"

" Nothing more than usual. Do those gloves suit you ?"

" Yes, they will fit me, I believe." She looked at him very
intently.

He met her gaze steadily, and for an instant his face bright
ened ; then she said, abruptly :

" Your mother's eyes are worse ?"

" Yes, much worse."

" Have you consulted Dr. Arnold about them ?"

" He says he can do nothing for her."

" How much would it cost to take her to New Orleans and
have that celebrated oculist examine them ?"

" More than we can afford just now ; at least two hundred
dollars."

" Oh, Russell I that is not much. Would not Mr. Watson lend
you that little ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 19

" I shall not ask him."

" Not even to restore your mother's sight ?"

" Not to buy my own life. Besides, the experiment is a doubt
ful one."

" Still it is worth making."

" Yes, under different circumstances it certainly would be."

" Have you talked to Mr. Campbell about it ?"

" No, because it is useless to discuss the matter."

" It would be dangerous to go to New Orleans now, I sup
pose ?"

' October or November would be better."

Again she looked at him very earnestly, then stretched out
her little hand.

" Good-by, Russell ; I wish I could do something to help you,
to make you less sorrowful."

He held the slight waxen fingers, and his mouth trembled as
he answered,

" Thank you, Miss Huntingdon. I am not sorrowful, but my
path in life is not quite so flowery as yours."

" I wish you would not call me ' Miss Huntingdon/ in that
stiff, far-off way, as if we were not friends. Or maybe it is a
hint that you desire me to address you as Mr. Aubrey. It sounds
strange, unnatural, to say anything but Russell."

She gathered up her books, took the gloves, and went slowly
homeward, and Russell returned to his desk with a light in his
eyes which, for the remainder of the day, nothing could quench.
As Irene ascended the long hill on which Mr. Huntingdon's resi
dence stood, she saw her father's buggy at the door, and as she
approached the steps he came out, drawing on his gloves.

" You are late, Irene. What kept you ?"

" I have been shopping a little. Are you going to ride ?
Take me with you."

" Going to dine at Mr. Carter's."

" Why, the sun is almost down now. What time will you
come home ? I want to ask you something."

"Not till long after you are asleep."

He took his seat in the buggy, and the spirited horse dashed

20 MACAEIA ; OK,

down the avenue. A servant came forward to take her hat and
satchel, and inform her that her dinner had waited some time.
Miss Margaret sat crocheting at the front window of the dining-
room, and Irene ate her dinner in silence. As she rose and
approached her aunt, the door swung open and a youth
entered, apparently about Russell's age, though really one year
older.

" Irene, I am tired to death waiting for you. What a pro
voking girl you are. The horses have been saddled at least one
hour and a half. Do get on your riding-dress. I am out of all
patience."

He rapped his boot heavily with his whip by way of emphasis,
and looked hurriedly at his watch.

" I did not promise to ride with you this evening, Hugh,'7 an
swered his cousin, seating herself on the window-sill and running
her fingers lightly over the bars of a beautiful cage where her
canary pecked playfully at the fair hand.

" Oh, nonsense ! Suppose you did n't promise ; I waited for
you, and told Grace Harriss and Charlie that we would meet
them at the upper bend of the river, just above the factory.
Charlie's new horse has just arrived from Vermont — Green
Mountain Boy, he calls him — and we have a bet of a half-dozen
pairs of gloves that he can't beat my Eclipse. Do come along 1
Aunt Margaret, make her come."

" I should like to see anybody make her do what she is not
in a humor for," said his aunt, looking over her glasses at the
lithe, graceful figure on the window-sill.

" Hugh, I would rather stay at home, for I am tired, but I
will go to oblige you."

Miss Margaret lifted her eyebrows, and as his cousin left the
room Hugh Seymour exclaimed :

" Is n't she the greatest beauty in the United States ?"

" She will be a belle when she is grown ; just such a one as
your mother was, only she lacks her gayety of disposition. She
is full of strange notions, Hugh ; you don't know the half of her
character — her own father does not. Frequently I am puzzled
to understand her myself."

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 21

" Oh ! she will come out of all that. She is curious about
some things now, but she will outgrow it."

" I am afraid she will not, for it is as much a part of her as
the color of her hair or the shape of her nose. She has always
been queen."

Irene appeared at the door with a small silver porte-monnaie
in her hand. She counted the contents, put it into her pocket,
and gathering up the folds of her habit, led the way to the
front door. Hugh adjusted the reins, and laying one hand on
his, she sprang lightly to her saddle, then stroked her horse's
silky mane and said :

" Erebus can leave Green Mountain Boy so far behind that
Charlie would find it no easy matter to count the plumes in my
hat. Are you ready ? n

The beautiful, jetty creature, as if conscious of her praise,
tossed his head and sprang off in a canter, but wheeling round
she called to the groom who stood watching them :
" Unchain Paragon ! "

Five minutes later the cousins were galloping on, with a su
perb greyhound following close at Erebus' heels, and leaping up
now and then in obedience to the motion of Irene's hand. The
road ran through a hilly country, now clad in stern, ancestral
pines, and now skirted with oak and hickory, and about a mile
beyond the town it made a sharp angle, and took the river
bank. The sun had set, but the western, sky was still aglow ;
and near the bank, where the current was not perceptible, the
changing tints of the clouds were clearly mirrored, but in the
middle of the stream a ledge of rock impeded its course, and the
water broke over with a dull roar, churning itself into foam and
spray as it dashed from shelf to shelf of the stony barrier. Just
opposite the Fall, Irene checked her horse, and paused to ad
mire the beauty of the scene ; but in another moment the quick
tramp of hoofs fell on her ear, and Hugh's young friends joined
them. Green Mountain Boy was flecked with foam, and as
Irene measured his perfections at one hasty glance she patted her
favorite's head and challenged Charlie for a trial of speed.

" No, Charlie and I must have the race. Miss Grace, you

22 MACARTA; OR,

arid Irene can take care of yourselves for a few minutes. We
will wait for you on the edge of town, at the grave yard. Now,
Charlie, I am ready."

They took their places in front, and were soon out of sight, as
the road followed the curves of the river. Erebus plunged vio
lently at first, not being accustomed to lag behind Eclipse, but
by much persuasion and frequent kind touches on his head, Irene
managed to reconcile him to the temporary disgrace.

Grace looked at his antics rather fearfully, and observed that
no amount of money could tempt her to mount him.

''Why not?"

" He will break your neck yet."

" He is very spirited, but as gentle as Paragon. Come,
Grace, it is getting late ; they will be waiting for us. Quicken
your sober meek little brownie."

" So Electra is not coming back to school. It is a great pity
she can't have an education."

" Who told you anything about her ?"

" Oh, everybody knows how poor her aunt is ; and now to
mend matters she is going blind. I would go to see Electra oc
casionally if the family had not been so disgraced. I like her,
but no genteel person recognizes Mrs. Aubrey, even in the
street."

" That is very unjust. She is one of the most refined, elegant
women I have ever seen. She ought not to be blamed for her
husband's misfortune. Poverty is no crime."

If she had been treated to a Hindostanee proverb, Grace
could not have looked more stupidly surprised.

" Why, Irene ! Mrs. Aubrey wears a bit-calico to church."

" Well, suppose she does ? Is people's worth to be determin
ed only by the cost or the quality of their clothes ? If I were
to give your cook a silk dress exactly like that one your uncle
sent you from Paris, and provide her with shawl and bonnet to
match, would she be your equal, do you think ? I imagine you
would not thank me or anybody else who insinuated that Mrs.
Harriss' negro cook was quite as genteel and elegant as Miss
Grace herself, because she wore exactly the same kind of clothes.

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 23

I tell you, Grace, it is all humbug ! this everlasting talk about
fashion, and dress, and gentility ! Pshaw I I am sick of it.
When our forefathers were fighting for freedom, for a national
existence, I wonder whether their wives measured each other's
respectability or gentility by their lace collars or the number of
flounces on their dresses I Grace Harriss, your great-grandmo
ther, and mine, and probably everybody's else, spun the cotton,
and wove the cloth, and cut and made their homespun dresses,
and were thankful to get them. And these women who had not
even bit-calicoes were the mothers, and wives, and sisters, and
daughters of men who established the most glorious government
on the face of the broad earth ! The way the women of Amer
ica have degenerated is a crying shame. I tell you, I would
blush to look my great-grandmother in the face."

Grace shrugged her shoulders in expressive silence, and, soon
after, they reached the spot where the boys were waiting to join
them.

" Eclipse made good his name !" cried Hugh, triumphantly,
while Charlie bit his lip with chagrin.

" Never mind, Charlie, Erebus can distance Eclipse any day."

" Not so easily," muttered Hugh.

" I will prove it the next time we ride. Now for a canter as
far as Grace's door."

On they went, through the main street of the town : Erebus
ahead, Paragon at his heels, then all the others. The wind
blew Irene's veil over her eyes, she endeavored to put it back,
and in the effort dropped her whip. It was dusk ; they were
near one of the crossings, and a tall well-known form stooped,
found the whip, and handed it up. Erebus shied, but the hand
touched Irene's as it inserted the silver handle in the slender
fingers.

" Thank you, Russell, thank you very much."

He bowed formally, drew his straw hat over his brow, and
walked on with two heavy account-books under his arm.

" I can't endure that boy," said Hugh, at the distance of half
a square, flourishing his whip energetically as he spoke.

" Nor I," chimed in Charlie.

24.

" Why not ? I have known him a long time, and I like him
very much.

" He is so confoundedly proud arid saintly."

" That exists entirely in your imagination, Hugh. You don't
know half his good qualities," returned Irene, a little quickly.

"Bah !" — began her cousin ; but here their companions bade
them good-night, and, as if disinclined to continue the subject,
Irene kept in advance till they reached home. Tea was waiting ;
Miss Margaret and Hugh talked of various things ; Irene sat
balancing her spoon upon the edge of her cup. Finally, tired of
listening, she glided to the front door and seated herself on the
steps. Paragon followed, and laid down at her feet. Every
thing was quiet, save the distant roar of the river as it foamed
over its rocky bed ; below, hanging on the bank of the stream,
lay the town. From her elevated position she could trace the
winding of the streets by the long rows of lamps ; and now and
then a faint hum rose on the breeze, as it swept up the hill and
lost itself in the forest behind the house. Yery soon Hugh came
out, cigar in hand, and threw himself down beside her.

" What is the matter, Irie ?"

" Nothing."

" What are you moping here for ?"

"I am not moping at all ; I am waiting for father."

" He will not be here for three hours yet. Don't you know
that Mr. Carter's dinners always end in card-parties ? He is
famous for whist and euchre, and doubtless his dinners pay him
well. What do you want with uncle ?"

" Hugh, do throw away your cigar. It is ridiculous to see a
boy of your age puffing away in that style. Betting and smoking
seem to be the only things you have learned at Yale. By the
way, when do you go back ?"

" Are you getting tired of me ? I go back in ten days. Irene,
do you know that I am not coming home next vacation ? I have
promised a party of merry fellows to spend it with them in
Canada. Then the next summer I go to Europe, for two years
at least. Are you listening ? Do you understand that it will be
four years before I see you again ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 25

" Yes, I understand."

" I dare say the time will seem longer to me than to you."

" I hope when you do come back we shall not be disappointed
in you."

He took her hand, but she withdrew her fingers.

"Irene, you belong to me, and you know it."

" No ! I belong to God and myself."

She rose, and, retreating to the library, opened her books and
began to study. The night passed very slowly ; she looked at
the clock again and again. Finally the house became quiet, and
at last the crush of wheels on the gravel-walk announced her
father's return. He came into the library for a cigar, and, with
out noticing her, drew his chair to the open window. She ap
proached and put her hand on his shoulder.

" Irene 1 what is the matter, child ?"

" Nothing, sir ; only I want to ask you something."

'" Well, Queen, what is it ?"

He drew her tenderly to his knee, and passed his hand over
her floating hair.

Leonard Huntingdon was forty years old ; tall, spare, with an
erect and martial carriage. He had been trained at West Point,
and perhaps early education contributed somewhat to the air of
unbending haughtiness which many found repulsive. His black
hair was slightly sprinkled with gray, and his features were still
decidedly handsome, though the expression of mouth and eyes
was, ordinarily, by no means winning. He could seem very fas
cinating, but rarely deigned to be so ; and an intimate acquaint
ance was not necessary to teach people that he was proud, ob
stinate, and thoroughly selfish — loving only Hugh, Irene, and
himself. She was his only child ; her mother had died during
her infancy, and on this beautiful idol he lavished all the tender
ness of which his nature was capable. His tastes were cultiva
ted, his house was elegant and complete, and furnished magnifi
cently ; every luxury that money could yield him he possessed,
yet there were times when he seemed moody and cynical, and no
one could surmise the cause of his gloom. To-night there was
no shadow on his face, however ; doubtless the sparkle of the

2

26 MACARIA; OR,

wine- cup still shone in his piercing blue eye, and the girl looked
up at him fearing no denial.

" Father, I wish, please, you would give me two hundred dol
lars."

" What would you do with it, Queen ?"

" I do not want it for myself ; I should like to have that much
to enable a poor woman to recover her sight. She has cataracts
on her eyes, and there is a physician in New Orleans who can
relieve her. She is poor, and it will cost about two hundred dol
lars. Father, won't you give me the money ?"

He took the cigar from his lips, shook off the ashes, and ask
ed indifferently :

" What is the woman's name ? Has she no husband to take
care of her ?"

" Mrs. Aubrey ; she — "

" What !"

The cigar fell from his fingers, he put her from his knee, and
rose instantly. His swarthy cheek glowed, and she wondered at
the expression of his eyes, so different from anything she had ever
seen there before.

" Father, do you know her ?"

" What do you know of her ? What business is it of yours,
whether she goes blind or not ? Is it possible Margaret allows
you to visit at that house ? Answer me ; what do you know
about her ?"

" I know that she is a very gentle, unfortunate woman ; that
she has many bitter trials ; that she works hard to support her
family ; that she is noble and — n

11 Who gave you permission to visit that house ?"

" No permission was necessary. I go there because I love
her and Electra, and because I like Russell. Why should nrt I
go there, sir ? Is poverty disgrace ?"

" Irene, mark me. You are to visit that house no more in
future ; keep away from the whole family. I will have no such
association. Never let me hear their names again. Go to bed."

" Give me one good reason, and I will obey you."

" Reason ! My will, my command, is sufficient reason. What

ALTAE8 OF SACRIFICE. 27

do you mean by catechising me in this way ? Implicit obedience
is your duty."

The calm, holy eyes looked woncleringly into his ; and as he
marked the startled expression of the girl's pure face his own
eyes drooped.

" Father, has Mrs. Aubrey ever injured you ?"

No answer.

" If-she has not, you are very unjust to her ; if she has, re
member she is a woman, bowed down with many sorrows, and it
is unmanly to hoard up old differences. Father, please give me
that money."

" I will bury my last dollar in the Red Sea first ! Now are
you answered ?"

She put her hands over her eyes, as if to shut out some painful
vision ; and he saw the slight form shudder. In perfect silence
she took her books and went up to her room. Mr. Huntingdon
reseated himself as the door closed behind her, and the lamplight
showed a sinister smile writhing over his dark features. In the
busy hours of day, in the rush and din of active life, men can
drown remorseful whispers, and shut their eyes to the panorama
which memory strives to place before them ; but there come still
hours, solemn and inexorable, when struggles are useless, and the
phantom-recollections of early years crowd up like bannered
armies. He sat there, staring out into the starry night, and see
ing by the shimmer of the setting moon only the graceful form
and lovely face of Amy Aubrey, as she had appeared to him in
other days. Could he forget the hour when she wrenched her
cold fingers from his clasp, and, in defiance of her father's wishes,
vowed she would never be his wife ? No ; revenge was sweet,
very sweet ; his heart had swelled with exultation when the ver
dict of death upon the gallows was pronounced upon the husband
of her choice ; and now, her poverty, her humiliation, her blind
ness gave him deep, unutterable joy. The history of the past
was a sealed volume to his daughter, but she was now for the
first time conscious that her father regarded the widow and her
son with unconquerable hatred ; and with strange, foreboding
dread she looked into the future, knowing that forgiveness

28 MACARIA J OK,

was no part of his nature ; that insult or injury was never
forgotten.

CHAPTER III.

WHETHER the general rule of implicit obedience to parental
injunction admitted of no exceptions, was a problem which Irene
readily solved ; and on Saturday, as soon as her father and
cousin had started to the plantation (twenty-five miles distant),
she put on her hat, and walked to town. Wholly absorbed in
philanthropic schemes, she hurried along the sidewalk, ran up a
flight of steps, and knocked at a door, on which was written in
^arge gilt letters " Dr. Arnold."

"Ah, Beauty ! come in. Sit down, and tell me what brought
you to town so early."

He was probably a man of fifty ; gruff in appearance, and
unmistakably a bachelor. His thick hair was grizzled, so was
the heavy beard ; and the shaggy gray eyebrows slowly unbent,
as he took his visitor's little hands and looked kindly down into
her grave face. From her infancy he had petted and fondled
her, and she stood as little in awe of him as of Paragon.

" Doctor, are you busy this morning ?"

" I am never too busy to attend to you, little one. What
is it ?"

" Of course you know that Mrs. Aubrey is almost blind."

" Of course I do, having been her physician."

"Those cataracts can be removed, however."

" Perhaps they can, and perhaps they can't."

" But the probabilities are that a good occulist can relieve
her."

" I rather think so."

" Two hundred dollars would defray all the expenses of a trip
to New Orleans for this purpose, but she is too poor to afford
it."

" Decidedly too poor."

ALTAI1S OF SACRIFICE.

His gray eyes twinkled promisingly, but he would not antici
pate her.

" Dr. Arnold, don't you think you could spare that small sum
without much inconvenience ?"

" Really ! is that what you trudged into town for ?"

" Yes, just that, and nothing else. If I had had the money I
should not have applied to you,"

" Pshaw ! your father could buy me a dozen times."

" At any rate, I have not the necessary amount at my dispo
sal just now, and I came to ask you to lend it to me."

" For how long, Beauty ?"

" Till I am of age — perhaps not so long. I will pay you the
interest."

" You will climb Popocatapeti, won't you ? Hush, child."

He went into the adjoining room, but soon returned, and re
sumed his seat on the sofa by her side.

"Irene, did you first apply to your father? 'I don't relish
the idea of being a dernier ressort."

" What difference can it make to you whether I did or did
not ? That I come to you at all is sufficient proof of my faith
in your generosity."

Hiram Arnold was an acute and practiced physiognomist, but
the pale, quiet face perplexed him.

" Do you want the money now ?"

" Yes, if you please ; but before you give it to me I ought to
tell you that I want the matter kept secret. No one is to know
anything about it — not even my father."

" Irene, is it right to inveigle me into schemes with which you
are ashamed to have your own father acquainted ?"

" You know the whole truth, therefore you are not inveigled :
and moreover, Doctor, I am not ashamed of anything I do."

She looked so unembarrassed that for a moment he felt
puzzled.

" I knew Mrs. Aubrey before her marriage." He bent for
ward to watch the effect of his words, but if she really knew or
suspected aught of the past there was not the slightest intima
tion of it. Putting back her hair, she looked up and answered t

30 MACAKIA ; OR,

" That should increase your willingness to aid her in her mis
fortunes."

"Holdout your hand ; fifty, one hundred, a hundred and
fifty, two hundred. There, will that do ?"

" Thank you ! thank you. You will not need it soon, I
hope ?"

" Not until you are ready to pay me."

" Dr. Arnold, you have given me a great deal of pleasure —
more than I can express. I — ."

" Don't try to express it, Queen. You have given me in
finitely more, I assure you."

Her splendid eyes were lifted toward him, and with some sud
den impulse she touched her lips to the hand he had placed on
her shoulder. Something like a tremor crossed the doctor's
habitually stern mouth as he looked at the marvellous beauty of
the girl's countenance, and he kissed her slender fingers as rev
erently as though he touched something consecrated.
. " Irene, shall I take you home in my buggy ?"

" No, thank you, I would rather walk. Oh ! Doctor, I am
go much obliged to you."

She drew her hat over her face, and went down the steps.
Dr. Arnold walked slowly across the office-floor with his hands
behind him ; the grim face was placid now, the dark furrows on
his brow were not half so deep, and as he paused and closed a
pondrous volume lying on the table, a smile suddenly flitted
over his features, as one sees a sunbeam struggle through rifts
in low rain-clouds. He put the book in the case, and locked
the glass door. The " Augustinuui Theory of Evil" was con
tained in the volume, which seemed by no means to have satis
fied him.

" All a maze worse than that of Crete ! I will follow that
girl ! she shall be my Ariadne in this Egyptian darkness.
Pshaw ! if His Highness of Hippo were right, what would be
come of the world ? All social organizations are based (and
firmly too) on man's faith in man ; establish the universal de
pravity, devilishness of the human race, and lo ! what supports
the mighty social fabric ! Machiavelisin ? If that queer little

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 31

untrained freethinker, Irene, is not pure and sinless, then there
are neither seraphim nor cherubim in high heaven ! Cyrus, bring
out my buggy."

In answer to Irene's knock, Electra opened the cottage door,
and ushered her into the small room which served as both
kitchen and dining-room. Everything was scrupulously neat,
not a spot on the bare polished floor, not a speck to dim the
parity of the snowy dimity curtains, and on the table in the
centre stood a vase filled with fresh fragrant flowers. In a low
chair before the open window sat the widow knitting a blue and
white nubia. She glanced round as Irene entered.

" Who is it, Electra ?"

11 Miss Irene, aunt."

" Sit down, Miss Irene ; how are you to day ?"

She spoke rapidly, and for a moment seemed confused, then
resumed her work. Irene watched her pale, delicate fingers, and
the long auburn lashes drooping over the colorless cheeks, and
when she looked up for an instant, the visitor saw that the
mild, meek brown eyes were sadly blurred. If ever resignation
enthroned itself on a woman's brow, one might have bowed be
fore Amy Aubrey's sweet, placid, subdued face. No Daniel
was needed to interpret the lines which sorrow had printed
around her patient, tremulous mouth.

" Mrs. Aubrey, I am sorry to hear your eyes are no better."

" Thank you for your kind sympathy. My sight grows more
dim every day."

" I should think netting would be injurious to you now."

" Jt is purely mechanical ; I use my eyes very little. Electra
arranges the colors for me, and I find it easy work."

Irene knelt down before her, and, folding one of the hands
in both hers, said eagerly :

" You shan't suffer much longer ; these veils shall be taken
off. Here is the money to enable you to go to New Orleans and
consult that physician. As soon as the weather turns cooler
you must start."

" Miss Irene, I cannot tax your generosity so heavily ; I have
no claim on your goodness. Indeed I "

32 MAC ART A ; OK,

" Please don't refuse the money ! You will distress me very
mu£h if you do. Why should you hesitate ? If it makes me
happy and benefits you, why will you decline it ? Do you think
if my eyes were in the condition of yours that I would not thank
you to relieve me ?"

The widow had risen hastily, and covered her face with her
hands, while an unwonted flush dyed her cheeks. She trembled,
and Irene saw tears stealing through her fingers.

" Mrs. Aubrey, don't you think it is your duty to recover
your sight if possible ?"

" Yes, if I could command the means."

" You have the means ; you must employ them. There, I
will not take back the money ; it is yours."

" Don't refuse it, auntie, you will wound Irie," pleaded Elec-
tra.

How little they understood or appreciated the struggle in that
gentle sufferer's heart ; how impossible for them to realize the
humiliation she endured in accepting such a gift from the child
of Leonard Huntingdon 1

With a faltering voice she asked :

" Did your father send me this money ?"

"No."

It was the first time she had ever alluded to him, and Irene
saw that some painful memory linked itself with her father. What
could it be ? There was silence for a few seconds ; then Mrs.
Aubrey took the hands from her face and said : " Irene, I will
accept your generous offer. If my sight is restored, I can repay
you some day ; if not, I am not too proud to be under this great
obligation to you. Oh, Irene 1 I can't tell you how much I
thank you ; my heart is too full for words." She threw her arm
round the girl's waist and strained her to her bosom, and the hot
tears fell fast on the waves of golden hair. A moment after,
Irene threw a tiny envelope into Electra's lap, and without an
other word glided out of the room. The orphan broke the seal,
and as she opened a sheet of note paper a ten dollar bill slipped
out.

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 33

" Electra, come to school Monday. The enclosed will pay
your tuition for two months longer. Please don't hesitate to ac
cept it, if you really love

" Your Mend IRENE."

Mrs. Aubrey sat with her face in her hands, listening to the
mournful, solemn voice that stole up from the mouldering, dusty
crypts' of by-gone years ; and putting the note in her pocket,
Electra leaned her head against the window and thanked God
for the gift of a true friend. Thinking of the group she had just
left, Irene approached the gate and saw that Russell stood hold
ing it open for her to pass. Looking up she stopped, for the ex
pression of his face frightened and pained her.

" Russell, what is the matter ? oh ! tell me."

A scornful, defiant smile distorted his bloodless lips, but he
made no answer. She took his hand ; it was cold, and the fin
gers were clenched.

" Russell, are you ill ?"

She shuddered at the glare in his black eyes.

" I am not ill."

" Won't you tell your friend what ails you ?"

" I have no friend but my mother."

"Oh, Russell, Russell !"

Her head drooped, and the glittering hair swept as a veil be
tween them. The low flute-like, pleading voice stirred his heart,
and the blood surged over his pallid forehead.

" I have been injured and insulted. Just now I doubt all peo
ple and all things, even the justice and mercy of God."

" Russell, ' shall not the righteous Judge of all the earth do
right ?' "

" Shall the rich and the unprincipled eternally trample upon
the poor and the unfortunate ?"

" Who has injured you ?"

" A meek looking man who passes for a Christian, who turns
pale at the sound of a violin, who exhorts to missionary labors,
and talks often about widows and orphans. Such a man, know
ing the circumstances that surround me, my poverty, my mother's

9*

34: MACARIA ; OK,

affliction, on bare and most unwarrantable suspicion turns me out
of my situation as clerk, and endeavors to brand my name with in
famy. To-day I stand disgraced in the eyes of the community,
thanks to the vile slanders of that pillar of the church, Jacob Wat
son. Four years ago I went to my work quietly, hopefully ; but
now another spirit has entered and possessed me. Irene, I am des
perate. Do you wonder ? It seems to me ages have rolled over
me since my mother kissed me this morning; there is a hissing ser
pent in my heart which I have no power to expel. I could bear it
myself, but my mother ! my noble, patient, suffering mother ! I
must go in, and add a yet heavier burden to those already crush
ing out her life. Pleasant tidings, these I bring her : that her
eon is disgraced, branded as a rogue 1"

There was no moisture in the keen eye, no tremor in the me
tallic ring of his voice, no relaxation of the curled lip.

" Can't you prove your innocence ? Was it money ? "

" No, it was a watch, which I gave up as security for draw
ing a portion of my salary in advance. It was locked up in the
iron safe ; this morning it was missing, and they accuse me of
having stolen it."

He took off his hat as if it oppressed him, and tossed back his
hair.

" What will you do, Russell?"

"I don't know yet."

" Oh 1 if I could only help you."

She clasped her hands over her heart, and for the first time
since her infancy tears rushed down her cheeks. It was painful
to see that quiet girl so moved, and Russell hastily took the
folded hands in his, and bent his face close to hers.

" Irene, the only comfort I have is that you are my friend.
Don't let them influence you against me. No matter what you
may hear, believe in me. Oh ! Irene, Irene 1 believe in me al
ways ! "

He held her hands in a clasp so tight that it pained her, then
suddenly dropped them and left her. As a pantomime all this
passed between Electra's eyes ; not a word reached her, but she
knew that something unusual had occurred to bring her cousin

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 35

home at that hour, and felt that now he was but the avant-cou-
rier of a new sorrow. She glanced toward her aunt's bowed
form, then smothered a groan, and sat waiting for the blow to
fall upon her. Why spring to meet it ? He went to his own
room first, and five, ten, fifteen minutes rolled on. She listened
to the faint sound of his steps, and knew that he paced up and
down the floor ; five minutes more of crushing suspense, and he
came along the passage and stood at the door. She looked at
him, pale, erect, and firm, and shuddered in thinking of the
struggle which that calm exterior had cost him. Mrs. Aubrey
recognized the step, and looked round in surprise.

" Electra, I certainly hear Russell coming."

He drew near and touched her cheek with his lips, saying ten
derly :

" How is my mother ?"

" Russell, what brings you home so early ? "

" That is rather a cold welcome, mother, but I am not aston
ished. Can you bear to hear something unpleasant ? Hear,
put your hands in mine ; now listen to me. You know I drew
fifty dollars of my salary in advance, to pay Clark. At that
time I gave my watch to Mr. Watson by way of pawn, he
seemed so reluctant to let me have the money ; you understand,
mother, why I did not mention it at the time. He locked it up
in the iron safe, to which no one has access except him and my
self. Late yesterday I locked the safe as usual, but do not re
member whether the watch was still there or not ; this morning
Mr. Watson missed it ; we searched safe, desk, store, could find
it nowhere, nor the twenty-dollar gold piece deposited at the
same time. No other money was missing, though the safe con
tained nearly a thousand dollars. The end of it all is that I am
accused as the thief, and expelled in disgrace for — "

A low, plaintive cry escaped the widow's lips, and her head
sank heavily on the boy's shoulder. Passing his arm fondly
around her, he kissed her white face, and continued in the same
hushed, passionless tone, like one speaking under his breath, and
stilling some devouring rage :

" Mother, I need not assure you of my innocence. You know

36 MACAKIA; OR,

that I never could be guilty of what is imputed to me ; but, not
having it in my power to prove my innocence, I shall have to
suffer the disgrace for a season. Only for a season, I trust, mo
ther, for in time the truth must be discovered. I have been
turned out of my situation, and, though they have no proof of my
guilt, they will try to brand me with the disgrace. But they
can't crush me ; so long as there remains a drop of blood in my
veins, I will scorn their slanders and their hatred. Don't cry,
mother ; your tears hurt me more than all my wrongs. If you
will only be brave, and put entire confidence in me, I shall bear
all this infinitely better. Look at the bitter truth, face to face ;
we have nothing more to lose. Poor, afflicted, disgraced, there
is nothing else on earth to fear ; but there is everything to hope
for ; wealth, name, fame, influence. This is my comfort ; it is
a grim philosophy, born of despair. I go forward from to-day
like a man who comes out of some fiery furnace, and, blackened
and scorched though he be, looks into the future without appre
hension, feeling assured that it can hold no trials comparable to
those already past. Herein I am strong ; but you should have
another and far brighter hope to rest upon ; it is just such
ordeals as this for which religion promises you strength and
consolation. Mother, I have seen you supported by Christian
faith in a darker hour than this. Take courage, all will be well
some day."

For a few moments deep silence reigned in the little kitchen,
and only the Infinite eye pierced the heart of the long-tried suf
ferer. When she raised her head from the boy's bosom, the face,
though tear-stained, was serene, and, pressing her lips twice to
his, she said slowly :

" ' Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial
which is to try you ; as though some strange thing happened
unto you. For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourg-
eth every son whom he receiveth.' I will wait patiently, my son,
hoping for proofs which shall convince the world of your inno
cence. I wish I could take the whole burden on my shoulders,
and relieve you, ray dear boy."

" You have, mother ; it ceases to crush me, now that you

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 37

are yourself once more." He spoke with difficulty, however, as
if something stifled him, and, rising hastily, poured out and
drank a glass of water.

" And now, Russell, sit down and let me tell you a little that
is pleasant and sunshiny. There is still a bright spot left to
look upon."

Stealing her hand into his, the mother informed him of all
that had occurred during Irene's visit, and concluded by laying
the money in his palm.

Electra sat opposite, watching the change that came over the
face she loved best on earth. Her large, eager midnight eyes
noted the quick flush and glad light which overspread his fea
tures ; the deep joy that kindled in his tortured soul ; and un
consciously she clutched her fingers till the nails grew jturple,
as though striving to strangle some hideous object thrusting
itself before her. Her breathing became labored and painful,
her gaze more concentrated and searching, and when her cousin
exclaimed : " Oh, mother ! she is an angel ! I have always
known it. She is unlike everybody else !" Electra's heart
seemed to stand still ; and from that moment a sombre curtain
fell between the girl's eyes and God's sunshine. She rose, and
a silent yet terrible struggle took place in her passionate soul.
Justice and jealousy wrestled briefly ; she would be just though
every star fell from her sky, and with a quick, uncertain step
she reached Russell, thrust Irene's note into his fingers, and fled
into solitude. An hour later, Russell knocked at the door of
an office, which bore on a square tin plate these words, " Robert
Campbell, Attorney at Law." The door was partially closed,
and as he entered an elderly man looked up from a desk, covered
with loose papers and open volumes from which he was evi
dently making extracts. The thin hair hung over his forehead
as if restless fingers had ploughed carelessly through it, and, as
he kept one finger on a half-copied paragraph, the cold blue
eye said very plainly, " this is a busy time with me ; dispatch
your errand at once."

"Good morning, Mr. Campbell'; are you particularly en
gaged?"

38 MACAKTA ; OR,

" How-d'y-do, Aubrey. I am generally engaged ; confound
edly busy this morning. What do you want ?"

His pen resumed its work, but he turned his head as if to
listen.

" I will call again when you are at leisure," said Russell,
turning away.

" That will be — next month — next year ; in fine, postponing
your visit indefinitely. Sit down — somewhere — well — clear
those books into a corner, and let's hear jour business. I am
at your service for ten minutes — talk fast."

He put his pen behind his ear, crossed his arms on the desk,
and looked expectant.

" I came here to ask whether you wished to employ any one
in your office."

" And what the deuce do you suppose I want with an office-
lad like yourself ? To put the very books I need at the bottom
of a pile tall as the tower of Babel, and tear up briefs to kindle
the fire or light your segar ? No, thank you, Aubrey, I tried
that experiment to my perfect satisfaction a few months ago.
Is that all ?"

"That is all, sir."

The boy rose, but the bitter look that crossed his face as he
glanced at the well-filled book-shelves arrested the lawyer's at
tention, and he added :

" Why did you leave Watson, young man ? It is a bad plan
to change about in this style."

"I was expelled from my situation on a foul and most un
just accusation. I am seeking employment from necessity."

" Expelled is a dark word, Aubrey ; it will hardly act as a
passport to future situations. Expelled clerks are not in de
mand."

" Still, I must state the truth unreservedly."

" Let's hear the whole business, sit down."

Without hesitation he narrated all the circumstances, once or
twice pausing to still the tempest of passion that flashed from
his eyes. While he spoke, Mr. Campbell's keen eyes searched
him from head to foot, and at the conclusion he asked sharply :

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 39

" Where is the watch, do you suppose ?"

" Heaven only knows. I have a suspicion, but no right to
utter it, since I might thereby inflict a wrong equal to that from
which I now suffer."

" It is a dark piece of business as it stands."

" Yes, but time will clear it up."

" See here, Aubrey, I have noticed you two or three times in
the court-house listening to some of my harangues. I knew
your father, and I should like to help you. It seems to me you
might make better use of your talents than you are doing. And
yet, if you rise it will be over greater obstacles than most men
surmount. Do you understand me ?"

" I do ; for I am too painfully aware of the prejudice against
which I have to contend. But if I live, I shall lift myself out of
this pool where malice and hate have thrust me."

" What do you propose to do ?"

" Work at the plough or before the anvil, if nothing else can
be done to support my mother and cousin ; and as soon as I
possibly can study law. This is my plan, and for two years I
have been pursuing my Latin and Greek with an eye to accom
plishing the scheme."

"I see fate has thumped none of your original obstinacy out
of "you. Aubrey, suppose I shut my eyes to the watch trans
action, and take you into my office ?"

" If so, I shall do my duty faithfully. But you said you did
not need any one here, and though I am anxious to find work, I
do not expect or desire to be taken in from charity. I intend
to earn my wages, sir, and from your own account I should
judge you had very little use for an assistant."

" Humph ! a bountiful share of pride along with prodigious
obstinacy. Though I am a lawyer, I told you the truth ; I have
no earthly use for such assistants as I have been plagued with
for several years. In the main, office-boys are a nuisance, com
parable only to the locusts of Egypt ; I washed my hands of
the whole tribe months since. Now, I have a negro to attend
to my office, make fires, etc., and if I could only get an intelli-

4:0 MACAKIA ; OK,

gent, ambitious, honorable, trustworthy young man, he would
be a help to me. I had despaired of finding such, but, on the
whole, I rather like you ; believe you can suit me exactly if you
will, and I am disposed to give you a trial. Sit down here and
copy this paragraph ; let me see what sort of hieroglyphics I
shall have to decipher if I make you my copyist."

Russell silently complied, and after a careful examination it
seemed the chirography was satisfactory.

" Look there, Aubrey, does that array frighten you ?"

He pointed to the opposite side of the room, where legal doc
uments of every shape and size were piled knee-deep for several
yards.

" They look formidable, sir, but nothing would afford me
more pleasure than to fathom their mysteries.

" And what security can you give me that the instant my
back is turned you will not quit my work and go off to my books
yonder, which I notice you have been eying very greedily ?"

" No security, sir, but the promise of an honest soul to do its
work faithfully and untiringly. Mr. Campbell, I understand my
position thoroughly ; I know only too well that I have every
thing to make, an honorable name, an unblemished reputation,
and, relying only on myself, I expect to help myself. If you
really need an assistant, and think me trust-worthy, I will be
very glad to serve you, and shall merit your confidence. I come
to you under adverse circumstances, with a tarnished character,
and of course you feel some hesitancy in employing me. I have
concealed nothing ; you are acquainted with all the facts, and
must decide accordingly."

There was nothing pleading in his tone or mien, but a proud,
desperate calmness, unusual in one of his age. When a truly
honest, noble soul meets an equal, barriers of position and age
melt like snow-flakes in sunshine, all extraneous circumstances
fall away, and, divested of pomp or rags, as the case may be, the
full, undimmed majesty of spirit greets spirit, and clear-eyed sym
pathy, soaring above the dross and dust of worldly conventional
ities, knit them in bonds lasting as time. Looking into the reso-

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 41

lute yet melancholy face before him, the lawyer forgot the pov
erty and disgrace clinging to his name, and leaning forward
grasped his hand.

" Aubrey, you and I can work peaceably together ; I value
your candor, I like your resolution. Come to me on Monday,
and in the matter of salary you shall find me liberal enough. I
think you told me you had a cousin as well as your mother to
support ; I shall not forget it. Now, good-morning, and leave
me unless you desire to accumulate work for yourself."

People called Mr. Campbell "miserly," " egotistic," and "self
ish." These are harsh adjectives, and the public frequently ap
plies them with culpable haste and uncharitableness, for there is
an astonishing proclivity in human nature to detract, to carp, to
spy out, and magnify faults. If at all prone to generous deeds,
Mr. Campbell certainly failed to placard them in public places ;
he had never given any large amount to any particular church,
institution, or society, but the few who knew him well indignant
ly denied the charge of penuriousness preferred by the communi
ty. A most unsafe criterion is public estimation ; it canonizes
many an arch-hypocrite, and martyrs many a saint.

CHAPTER IY.

From early childhood Irene had experienced a sensation of
loneliness. Doubtless the loss of her mother enhanced this feel
ing, but the peculiarity of her mental organization would have
necessitated it even under happier auspices. Her intellect was
of the masculine order, acute and logical, rather deficient in the
imaginative faculties, but keenly analytical. It is an old predi
cate that women are deductionists, that womanly intuitions are
swift and infallible. In richly-endowed female minds it not un-
frequently happens that tedious, reflective processes are ignored ;
but Irene was a patient rather than brilliant thinker, and with
singular perseverance searched every nook and cranny, and sifted

42 MACARTA; OK,

every phase of the subject presented for investigation. Her con
clusions were never hasty, and consequently rarely unsound.
From the time her baby-fingers first grasped a primer, she be
came a student ; dolls and toys, such as constitute the happiness
of most children, had never possessed any. attraction for her, and
before she was eight years old she made the library her favorite
resort. She would climb upon the morocco-covered table where
stood two globes, one celestial, the other terrestrial, and spend
hours in deciphering the strange, heathenish figures twined among
the stars. When weary of studying the index of the thermome
ter and barometer, and wondering why the quicksilver varied
with sunshine and shower, she would throw herself down on the
floor and fall asleep over the quaint pictures in an old English
encyclopaedia, numbering thirty volumes. She haunted this
room, and grew up among books centuries old. Thus until her
tenth year there was no authority exerted over her, and the
strong, reflective tendency of her mind rapidly developed itself.
This was an abnormal condition, and indisputably an unfortunate
training, and perhaps in after years it might have been better
had she spent the season of careless, thoughtless childhood in
childish sports and childhood's wonted ways, for anxious inquiry
and tedious investigations come soon enough with maturity.

She was not an enthusiastic, impulsive nature, fitful in nioodi-
ness or ecstacy, inclined to passionate demonstrations of any
kind ; but from infancy evinced a calm, equable temperament,
uniformly generous and unselfish, but most thoroughly firm, nay
obstinate, in any matter involving principle, or conflicting with
her opinions of propriety. How she obtained these notions of
right and wrong in minor details, was a subject of some mystery.
They were not the result of education in the ordinary accepta
tion of that term, for they had never been instilled by anybody ;
and like a wood-flower in some secluded spot, she lived, grew,
and expanded her nature, without any influences to bias or color
her views. In her promiscuous reading she was quite as apt to
imbibe poisonous as healthy sentiments, and knowing that she had
.been blessed with few religious instructions, her father often
wondered at the rigidness of her code for self-regulation. Miss

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 43

Margaret considered her " a strange little thing," and rarely in
terfered with her plans in any respect, while her father seemed to
take it for granted that she required no looking after. He knew
that her beauty was extraordinary ; he was proud of the fact ;
and having provided her with a good music master, and sent her
to the best school in the county, he left her to employ her leisure
as inclination prompted. Occasionally her will conflicted with
his, and more than once he found it impossible to make her yield
assent to his wishes. To the outward observances of obedience
and respect she submitted, but whenever these differences
occurred he felt that in the end she was unconquered. Incon
sistent as it may appear, though fretted for the time by her
firmness, he loved her the more for her " wilfulness," as he termed
it ; and despotic and exacting though he certainly was in many
respects, he stood somewhat in awe of his pure-hearted, calm-
eyed child. His ward and nephew, Hugh Seymour, had resided
with him for several years, and it was well-known that Mr.
Huntingdon had pledged his daughter's hand to his sister's son.
The age of infant betrothals has passed away, consequently this
rare instance gave rise to a deal of gossiping comment. How
the matter became public he never knew ; probably Sparrow-
grasse's " carrier pigeon" migrated southward, for it is now no
uncommon thing to find one in our cities and country towns ;
and at all events Mr. Huntingdon soon found that his private
domestic affairs were made an ordinary topic of conversation in
social circles. Irene had never been officially apprised of her
destiny, but surmised very accurately the true state of the case.
Between the two cousins there existed not the slightest congeni
ality of taste or disposition ; not a sympathetic link, save the tie
of relationship. On her part there was a moderate share of
cousinly affection ; on his, as much love and tenderness as his
selfish nature was capable of feeling. They rarely quarrelled as
most children do, for when (as frequently happened) he flew into
a rage and tried to tyrannize, she scorned to retort in any way,
and generally locked him out of the library. What she thought
of her father's intentions concerning herself, no one knew ; she
never alluded to the subject, and if in a frolicsome mood Hugh

4:4: MACARIA ; OR,

broached it, she invariably cut the discussion short. When he
went to college in a distant state, she felt infinitely relieved, and
during his vacations secluded herself as much as possible. Yet
the girl's heart was warm and clinging ; she loved her father de
votedly, and loved most intensely Electra Grey, whom she had
first met at school. They were nearly the same age, classmates,
and firm friends. That she was beautiful, Irene of course knew
quite as well as her father or any one else ; how could she avoid
knowing it ? From her cradle she had been called " Queen"
and " Beauty ;" all her acquaintances flattered her — strangers
commented on her loveliness ; she no more doubted it than the
fact of her existence, and often stopped before the large parlor
mirrors and admired her own image, just as she would have ex
amined and admired and enjoyed one of the elegant azaleas or
pelargoniums in the greenhouse. I repeat it, she prized and
enjoyed her loveliness, but she was not vain. She was no more
spoiled by adulation than a meek and snowy camelia, or one of
those immense golden-eyed pansies which astonish and delight
visitors at the hot-houses on Long Island. God conferred mar
vellous beauty on her, and she was grateful for the gift — but to
the miserable weaknesses of vanity, she was a stranger. In the
midst of books and flowers she was happy, and seemed to desire
HO companions but Erebus and Paragon. She rode every day
when the weather permitted, and the jetty horse with its grace
ful young rider, followed by the slender, silky greyhound, was a
familiar spectacle in the vicinity of her home. She knew every
hill and valley within ten miles of the town ; could tell where
the richest, rarest honeysuckles grew, where the yellow jasmine
clambered in greatest profusion, and always found the earliest
sprays of graybeard that powdered the forest. Often Mr. Hunt
ingdon had ordered his horse, and gone out in the dusky twilight
to search for her, fearing that some disaster had overtaken his
darling ; and at such times met Erebus laden with her favorite
flowers. These were the things she loved, and thus independent
of society, yet conscious of her isolation, she grew up what nature
intended her to be. As totally different in character as appear
ance was Electra Grey. Rather smaller and much thinner than

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 45

Irene, with shining, purplish black hair, large, sad, searching
black eyes, from which there was no escape, a pale olive com
plexion, and full crimson lips that rarely smiled. The forehead
was broad and prominent, and rendered very peculiar by the re
markable width between the finely-arched brows. The serene
purity characteristic of Irene's features was entirely wanting in
this face, which would have seemed Jewish in its contour but for
the Grecian nose ; and the melancholy yet fascinating eyes
haunted the beholder with their restless, wistful, far-reaching ex
pression. Electra was a dreamer, richly gifted ; dissatisfied be
cause she could never attain that unreal world which her busy
brain kept constantly before her. The child of genius is rarely,
if ever, a happy one —

" Heaven lies about us in our infancy."

If so, its recollections cling tenaciously to those who, like Elec-
tra^ seek continually for the airy castles of an ideal realm. Her
vivid imagination shaped and painted, but, as too often happens,
her eager blood and bone fingers could not grasp the glories.
The thousand cares, hardships, and rough handlings of reality
struck cold and jarring on her sensitive, highly-strung nature.
She did not complain ; murmuring words had never crossed her
lips in the hearing of any one who knew her ; she loved her aunt
too well to speak of sorrow or disappointment. Fourteen years
had taught her an unusual amount of stoicism, but sealed lips
can not sepulchre grief, and trials have a language which will
not be repressed when the mouth is at rest. She looked not
gloomy, nor yet quite unhappy, but like one who sees obstacles
mountain-high loom between her and the destined goal, and asks
only permission to press on. Hers was a passionate nature ;
fierce blood beat in her veins, and would not always be bound by
icy fetters. There was no serene plateau of feeling where she
could repose ; she enjoyed keenly, rapturously, and suffered
acutely, fearfully. Unfortunately for her, she had only Himal
ayan solitudes, sublime in their dazzling height, or valleys of
Tophet, appalling with flame and phantom. She knew wherein
she was gifted, she saw whither her narrow pathway led, and

46 MACARIA ; OK, »

panted to set her little feet in the direction of the towering
steeps crowned with the temple of art. To be an artist ; to put
on canvas the grand and imperishable images that crowded her
brain, and almost maddened her because she could not give them
tangible form ; this was the day-dream spanning her life like a
bow of promise, but fading slowly as years thickened o'er her
head, and no helping hand cleared the choked path. " Poverty !
poverty 1" Many a night she buried her face under the pillow,
and hissed the word through closed teeth, fearful of disturbing
the aunt, who slumbered at her side. Poverty ! poverty I
What an intolerable chain it binds around aspiring souls ! And
yet the world's great thinkers have felt this iron in their flesh,
and, bursting the galling bonds, have carved their way to emi
nence, to immortality. It is a lamentable and significant truth
that, with a few honorable, noble exceptions, wealth is the
Cannse of American intellect. Poverty is a rigid school, and the
sessions are long and bitter ; but the men and women who
graduate therein come forth with physical frames capable of en
during all hardships, with hearts habituated to disappointment
and fortified against the rebuffs of fortune, with intellects trained
by patient, laborious, unbending application. The tenderly-nur
tured child of wealth and luxury very naturally and reasonably
shrinks from difficulties ; but increase the obstacles in the path
of a son or daughter of penury, inured to trial, and in the samo
ratio you strengthen his or her ability and determination to sur
mount them.

Electra's love of drawing had early displayed itself ; first, in
strange, weird figures on her slate, then in her copy-book, on
every slip of paper which she could lay her hands upon ; and,
finally,€or want of more suitable material, she scrawled all over
the walls of the little bed-room, to the great horror of her aunt,
who spread a. ccat of whitewash over the child's frescos, and
uejrged her to be guilty of no such conduct in future, as Mr.
Clark might with great justice sue for damages. In utter hu
miliation, Electra retreated to the garden, and here, after a
shower had left the sandy walks white and smooth, she would
sharpen a bit of pine, and draw figures and faces of all conceiva-

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 47

ble and inconceivable shapes. Chancing to find her thus en
gaged one Sunday afternoon, Russell supplied her with a package
of drawing-paper and pencils. So long as these lasted she was
perfectly happy, but unluckily their straightened circumstances
admitted of no such expenditure, and before many weeks she was
again without materials. She would not tell Russell that she
had exhausted his package, and passed sleepless nights trying to
devise some method by which she could aid herself. It was
positive torture for her to sit in school and see the drawing-
master go round, giving lessons on this side and that, skipping
over her every time, because her aunt could not afford the extra
three dollars. How longingly the eyes followed the master's
form, how hungrily they dwelt upon the sketches he leaned over
to examine and retouch ? Frequently during drawing-hour she
would sit with her head bent down pretending to study, but the
pages of the book were generally blistered with tears, which no
eye but the Father's looked upon. There was, however, one en
joyment which nothing Could steal from her ; the town contained
two book-stores, and here she was wont to linger over the numer
ous engravings and occasional oil paintings they boasted. The
proprietors and clerks seemed rather pleased than otherwise by
the silent homage she paid their pictures, and, except to tender
her a seat, no one ever interfered with her examinations. One
engraving interested her particularly ; it represented St. John
on Patmos, writing Revelations. She went as usual one Satur
day morning for another look at it, but a different design hung
in its place ; she glanced around, and surmising the object of her
search, the proprietor told her it had been sold the day before.
An expression of sorrow crossed her face, as though she had sus
tained an irreparable loss, and, drawing her bonnet down, she
went slowly homeward. Amid all these yearnings and aspira
tions she turned constantly to Russell, with a worshiping love
that knew no bounds. She loved her meek, affectionate aunt as
well as most natures love their mothers, and did all in her power
to lighten her labors, but her affection for Russell bordered on
adoration. In a character so exacting and passionate as hers
there is necessarily much of jealousy, and thus it came to pass

48 MAC ART A J OE,

that, on the day of Irene's visit to the cottage, the horrible sus
picion took possession of her that he loved Irene better than her
self. True, she was very young, but childish hearts feel as
keenly as those of maturer years ; and Electra endured more
agony during that day than in all her past life. Had Irene been
other than she was, in every respect, she would probably have
hated her cordially ; as matters stood, she buried the suspicion
deep in her own heart, and kept as much out of everybody's way
as possible. Days and weeks passed very wearily ; she busied
herself with her text-books, and, when the lessons had been re
cited, drew all over the margins — here a hand, there an entire
arm, now and then a face, sad-eyed as Fate.

Mrs. Aubrey's eye became so blurred that finally she could
not leave the house without having some one to guide her, and,
as cold weather had now arrived, preparations were made for
her journey. Mr. Hill, who was going to New Orleans, kindly
offered to take charge of her, and the day of departure was
fixed. Electra packed the little trunk, saw it deposited on the
top of the stage, in the dawn of an October morning saw her
aunt comfortably seated beside Mr. Hill, and in another moment
all had vanished. In the afternoon of that day, on returning
from school, Electra went to the bureau, and, unlocking a draw
er, took out a small paper box. It contained a miniature of her
father, set in a handsome gold frame. She knew it had been
her mother's most valued trinket ; her aunt had carefully kept
it for her, and as often as the temptation assailed her she had
resisted ; but now the longing for money triumphed over every
other feeling. Having touched the spring, she took a knife and
cautiously removed the bit of ivory beneath the glass, then de
posited the two last in the box, put the gold frame in her
pocket, and went out to a jewelery store. As several persons
had preceded her, she leaned against the counter, and, while
waiting, watched with some curiosity, the movements of one of
the goldsmiths, who, with a glass over one eye, was engaged in
repairing watches. Some had been taken from the cases, others
were untouched ; and as her eyes passed swiftly over the latter,
they were suddenly riveted to a massive gold one lying some-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 49

what apart. A half-smothered exclamation caused the work
man to turn round and look at her, but in an instant she calmed
herself, and thinking it a mere outbreak of impatience, he re
sumed his employment. Just then one of the proprietors ap
proached, and said politely, " I am sorry we have kept you
waiting, miss. What can I do for you ?"

" What is this worth ?"

She laid the locket down on the counter, and looked up with
eyes that sparkled very joyously he thought. He examined it
a moment, and said rather dryly :

"It is worth little or nothing to us, though you may prize
it."

" If I were to buy another just like it, would you charge me
' little or nothing T "

He smiled good-humoredly.

" Buying and selling are different things, don't you know
that ? Come, tell me what you want to sell this for ?"

" Because I want some money."

" You are Mrs. Aubrey's niece, I believe ?"

" Yes, sir."

" Well, how do I know, in the first place, that it belongs to
you ? Jewellers have to be very particular about what they
buy."

She crimsoned, and drew herself proudly away from the coun
ter, then smiled and held out her hand for the locket.

" It is mine ; it held my father's miniature, but I took it out
because I want a paint-box, and thought I could sell this case
for enough to buy one. It was my mother's once ; here are her
initials on the back, H. G. Harriet Grey. But of course you
don't know whether I am telling the truth ; I will bring my
cousin with me, he can prove it. Sir, are you so particular
about everything you buy ?"

" We try to be."

Again her eyes sparkled ; she bowed, and left the store.

Once in the street, she hurried to Mr. Campbell's office, ran
up the steps, and rapped loudly at the door.

" Come in !" thundered the lawyer.

2

50

She stopped on the threshold, glanced round, and said tim
idly :

" I want to see Russell, if you please."

" Russell is at the post-office. Have you any particular spite
at my door, that you belabor it in that style ? or do you suppose
I arn as deaf as a gate-post ?"

" I beg your pardon ; I did not mean to startle you, sir. I
was not thinking of either you or your door."

She sprang down the steps to wait on the sidewalk for her
cousin, and met him at the entrance.

" Oh, Russell ! I have found your watch."

A ray of light seemed to leap from his eyes as he seized her
hand.

" Where ?"

"At Mr. Brown's jewelry store."

" Thank God I"

He went up the stairway, delivered the letters, and came back,
accompanied by Mr. Campbell.

" This is my cousin, Electra Gray, Mr. Campbell."

"So I inferred from the unceremonious assault she made on
my door just now. However, shake hands, little lady ; it seems
there is some reason for your haste. Let's hear about this pre
cious watch business."

She simply told what she had seen. Presently Russell said :

" But how did you happen there, Electra ?"

" Your good angel sent me, I suppose ; and," she added in a
whisper, " I will tell you some other time."

On re-entering the store, she walked at once to the workman's
corner, and pointed out the watch.

"Yes, it is mine. I would know it among a thousand."

" How can you identify it, Aubrey ?"

He immediately gave the number, and name of the manufac
turer, and described the interior tracery, not omitting the quan
tity of jewels. Mr. Campbell turned to the proprietor (the same
gentleman with whom Electra had conversed), and briefly reca
pitulated the circumstances which had occurred in connection
with the watch. Mr. Brown listened attentively, then requested

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 51

Russell to point out the particular one that resembled his. He
did so, and on examination, the number, date, name, and all the
marks corresponded so exactly that no doubt remained on the
jeweller's mind.

" Young man, you say you were accused of stealing your own
watch ?"

" Yes."

" Then I will try to clear your name. This watch was
brought here several weeks since, while I was absent. I am very
guarded in such matters, and require my young men here to take
a certificate of the name and place of residence of all strangers
who offer articles for sale or exchange. I once very innocently
bought some stolen property, and it taught me a lesson. This
watch was sold for ninety dollars by a man named Kufus Tur
ner, who lives in New Orleans, No. 240 street. I will

write to him at once, and find out, if possible, how it came into
his possession. I rather think he had some horses here for
sale."

" Did he wear green glasses ?" inquired Russell of the young
man who had purchased the watch.

" Yes, and had one arm in a sling."

" I saw such a man here about the time my watch was miss
ing."

After some directions from Mr. Campbell concerning the pro
per course to be pursued, Electra drew out her locket, saying —

" Now, Russell, is not this locket mine ?"

" Yes ; but where is the miniature ? What are you going to
do with it ?"

" The miniature is at home, but I want to sell the frame, and
Mr. Brown does not know but that it is another watch case."

" If it is necessary, I will swear that it belongs lawfully to
you ; but what do you want to sell it for ? I should think you
would prize it too highly to be willing to part with it."

" I do prize the miniature, and would not part with it for any
consideration ; but I want something far more than a gold case
to keep it in."

52 MACAKIA ; OK,

" Tell me what you want, and I will get it for you," whisper
ed her cousin.

" No — I am going to sell this frame."

" And I am going to buy it from you," said the kind-hearted
merchant, taking it from her hand and weighing it.

Russell and Mr. Campbell left the store, and soon after Mr.
Brown paid Electra several dollars for the locket.

In half an hour she had purchased a small box of paints, a
supply of drawing-paper and pencils, and returned home, happier
and prouder than many an empress, whose jewels have equalled
those of the Begums of Oude. She had cleared Russell's cha
racter, and her hands were pressed over her heart to still its
rapturous throbbing. Happy as an uncaged bird, she arranged
the tea-table and sat down to wait for him. He came at last,
later than usual, and then she had her reward ; he took her in.
his arms and kissed her. And yet, while his lip rested on hers,
Irene's image rose before her, and he felt her shiver as she clung
to him. He was her idol, and the bare suggestion of his loving
another better chilled the blood in her veins. He spoke little of
the watch, appeared to miss his mother, and soon went to his
room and began to study. How ignorant he was of what passed
in his cousin's heart ; how little he suspected the intensity of her
feelings ! Constantly occupied during the day, he rarely thought
of her away from home ; and, though always kind and consid
erate, he failed to understand her nature, or fully appreciate her
affection for him. Many days elapsed before Mr. Turner's answer
arrived. He stated that he had won the watch from Cecil Wat
son, at a horse-race, where both were betting ; and proved the
correctness of his assertion by reference to several persons who
were present, and who resided in the town. Russell had sus
pected Cecil from the moment of its disappearance, and now,
provided with both letter and watch, and accompanied by Mr.
Brown, he repaired to Mr. Watson's store. Russell had been
insulted, his nature was stern, and now he exulted in the power of
disgracing the son of the man who had wronged him. There was
no flush on his face, but a cold, triumphant glitter in his eyes as

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 53

lie approached his former employer, and laid watch and letter
before him.

" What business have you here ?" growled the merchant,
trembling before the expression of the boy's countenance.

" My business is to clear my character which you have slan
dered, and to fix the disgrace you intended for me on your own
eon. I bring you the proofs of his, not my villainy."

" Come into the back-room, I will see Brown another time,"
said Watson, growing paler each moment.

" No, sir ; you were not so secret in your dealings with me.
Here where you insulted me you shall hear the whole truth.
Read that. I suppose the twenty-dollar gold piece followed the
watch."

The unfortunate father perused the letter slowly, and smoth
ered a groan. Russell watched him with a keen joy which he
might have blushed to acknowledge had he analyzed his feelings.
Writhing under his impaling eye, Mr. Watson said :

" Have you applied to the witnesses referred to ?"

" Yes ; they are ready to swear that they saw Cecil bet Tur
ner the watch."

" You did not tell them the circumstances, did you ?"

" No."

"Well, it is an unfortunate affair ; I want it dropped as qui
etly as possible. It will never do to have it known far and
wide."

" Aha ! you can feel the sting now. But remember you took
care to circulate the slander on my name. I heard of it. You
did not spare me, you did not spare my mother ; and, Jacob
Watson, neither will I spare you. You never believed me guilty,
but you hated me and gloried in an opportunity of injuring me.
Do you suppose I shall shield your unprincipled son for your
sake ? You showed me no mercy, you may expect as little. The
story of the watch shall make its way wherever we "

He paused suddenly, for the image of his gentle, forgiving
mother rose before him, and he knew that she would be grieved
at the spirit he evinced. There was an awkward silence, broken
by Mr. Watson.

54: MACABIA; OK,

" If I retract all that I have said against you, and avow your
innocence, will it satisfy you ? Will you be silent about Cecil ?"

" No 1" rose peremptorily to his lips, but he checked it ; and
the patient teaching of years, his mother's precepts, and his mo
ther's prayers brought forth their first fruit, golden charity.

" You merit no forbearance at my hands, and I came here in
tending to show you none ; but, on reflection, I will not follow
your example. Clear my name before the public, and I leave
the whole affair with you. There has never been any love be
tween us, because you were always despotic and ungenerous, but
I am sorry for you now, for you have taught me how heavy is
the burden you have to bear in future. Good-morning."

Afraid to trust himself, he turned away and joined Mr. Camp
bell in the office.

In the afternoon of the same day came a letter from Mr. Hill
containing sad news. The oculist had operated on Mrs. Au
brey's eyes, but violent inflammation had ensued ; he had done
all that scientific skill could prompt, but feared she would be
hopelessly blind. At the close of the letter Mr. Hill stated that
he would bring her home the following week. One November
evening, just before dark, while Russell was cutting wood for the
kitchen-fire, the stage stopped at the cottage-gate, and he hurried
forward to receive his mother in his arms. It was a melancholy
reunion ; for a moment the poor sufferer's fortitude forsook her,
and she wept. But his caresses soothed her, and she followed
Elcctra into the house while he brought in the trunk. When
shawl and bonnet had been removed, and Electra placed her in
the rocking-chair, the light fell on face and figure, and the cou
sins started at the change that had taken place. She was so
ghastly pale, so very much reduced. She told them all that had
occurred during the tedious weeks of absence ; how much she
regretted having gone since the trip proved so unsuccessful ;
how much more she deplored the affliction on their account than
her own ; and then from that hour no allusion was ever made
to it.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 55

CHAPTER Y.

WEEKS and months slipped away, and total darkness came
down on the widow. She groped with some difficulty from
room to room, and Electra was compelled to remain at home
and watch over her. Russell had become a great favorite with
his crusty employer, and, when the labors of the office were end
ed, brought home such books as he needed, and spent his even
ings in study. His powers of application and endurance were
extraordinary, and his progress was in the same ratio. As he
became more and more absorbed in these pursuits his reserve and
taciturnity increased, and his habitually hasty step and abstract
ed expression of countenance told of a strong nature straining
its powers to the utmost to attain some distant, glimmering
goal. His employer was particularly impressed by the fact that
he never volunteered a remark on any subject, and rarely opened
his lips except to ask some necessary information in connection
with his business. Sometimes the silence of the office was un
broken for hours, save by the dull scratching of pens, or an im
patient exclamation from Mr. Campbell. Respectful in deport
ment, attentive to his duties, never presuming on kindness, con
stantly at work from morning until night, yet with an unmis
takable sorrow printed on his face — a sorrow never obtruded
on any one, never alluded to — he wou first the rigid scrutiny of
the lawyer, then his deepest, most abiding affection. Naturally
cold and undemonstrative in manner, Mr. Campbell gave little
evidence of feeling of any kind, yet the piercing blue eye lost its
keenness when resting on the tall, stalwart form of the clerk, and
once or twice the wrinkled hand sought his broad shoulder
almost caressingly. He had not married ; had neither mother
nor sisters to keep his nature loving and gentle, and, though
he occasionally visited his brother, who was a minister in the
same town, he was held in awe by the members of that brother's
family. He comprehended Russell's character, and quietly facili
tated his progress. There was no sycophancy on the part of the
young man, no patronage on that of the employer.

56 MAC ARIA ; OR,

One afternoon Irene tapped lightly at the cottage-door, and
entered the kitchen. Mrs. Aubrey sat in a low chair close to
the fireplace, engaged in knitting ; her smooth, neat calico dress
and spotless linen collar told that careful hands tended her, and
the soft auburn hair brushed over her temples showed broad
bands of gray as the evening sun shone on it. She turned her
rown, sightless eyes toward the door, and asked in a low voice :

" Who is it ?"

" It is only me, Mrs. Aubrey."

Irene bent down, laid her two hands on the widow's, and
kissed her forehead.

" I am glad to hear your voice, Irene ; it has been a long
time since you were here."

" Yes, a good many weeks, I know, but I could not come."

" Are you well ? Ydbr hands and face are cold."

"Yes, thank you, very well. I am always cold, I believe.
Hugh says I am. Here are some flowers from the greenhouse.
I brought them because they are so fragrant ; and here, too,
are a few oranges from the same place. Hush ! don't thank me,
if you please. I wish I could come here oftener. I always feel
better after being with you ; but I can't always come when I
want to do so."

"Why not, Irene?"

" Oh, because of various things. Between school and music,
and riding and reading, IJiave very little time ; and besides, fa
ther wants me with him when he is at home. I play chess with
him, and sometimes we are three or four days finishing one
game. Somehow, Mrs. Aubrey, though I don't mean to be idle,
it seems to me that I do very little. Every body ought to be of
some use in this world, but I feel like a bunch of mistletoe,
growing on somebody else, and doing nothing. I don't intend to
pit down and hold my hands all my life, but what can I do ?
Pell me how to begin."

She lifted a large tortoise-colored cat from a small stool, and
drew it near the hearth, just at the widow's feet, seating herself,
and removing her hat.

a That is more easily asked than answered ; you are a great

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 57

heiress, Irene, and in all human probability will never be obliged
to do anything. For what is generally denominated work you
will have no occasion ; but all who wish to be really happy
should be employed in some way. You will not have to labor
for your food and clothes, like Mr. Russell and Electra ; but you
will have it in your power to do a vast deal more good. In
cultivating your mind do not forget your heart ; it is naturally
full of very generous, noble impulses ; but all human beings
have faults ; what yours may be you know best, and you should
constantly strive to correct them. Read your Bible, dear child ;
not now and then, but daily and prayerfully. Oh, Irene ! I
have had some bitter, bitter sorrows, and frequently I thought
that they would crush out my life. In those times of trial if I
had not my Bible and my G.od, I believe I should have lost my
reason. But I read and was comforted. His promises sustain
ed me ; and in looking back I see many places which should be
called Jehovah Jirek, for the Lord saw and provided. Your
Bible will teach you your duty much better than I possibly can.
You owe your father a great deal • his hopes and joys centre in
you, and through life he will look to you for his happiness.
When you are grown, society, too, will claim you ; you will be
sought after and nattered ; and, Irene, under these circumstan
ces — with your remarkable beauty and wealth — you will find it
a difficult matter to avoid being spoiled. Your influence will bo
very great, and a fearful responsibility must attend its employ
ment. Let it be for good. . Try to keep your heart free from
all selfish or ignoble feelings ; pray to God for guidance, that
you may be enabled through His grace to keep yourself ' un
spotted from the world ; ; those words contain the whole, ' un
spotted from the world.' You have not been spoiled thus far
by luxury and life-long petting, and I hope and believe that you
never will be ; but remember, we must be continually on the
watch against temptation. Irene, have I spoken too plainly ? "
" No, I thank you for your candor. I want you to advise me
just as you would Electra. I don't read my Bible as often as I
ought, but there are so many things in it which I do not uncler-

3*

58 MAC ARIA ; OR,

stand, that I hardly ever open it now. I have nobody to ex
plain the difficulties."

" It is very clear on the subject of our duty ; God left not
the shadow of mystery in his laws for the government of the
heart and regulation of the life. He commands us to receive
certain rules, to practise certain principles, and to abstain from
certain sinful things, all of which are specified, and not to be
mistaken by even the most obtuse. Melvill has said in one of
his beautiful and comforting sermons : 'God breathed himself
into the compositions of prophets and apostles and evangelists,
and there, as in the mystic recesses of an everlasting sanctuary,
he still resides, ready to disclose himself to the humble, and to
be evoked by the prayerful. But in regard to every other book,
however fraught it may be with the maxims of piety, however
pregnant with momentous truth, there is nothing of this shrining
himself of Deity in the depths of its meaning. Men may be in
structed by its pages, and draw from them hope and consolation,
but never will they find there the burning Shekinah which pro
claims the actual presence of God ; never hear a voice as from
the solitudes of an oracle pronouncing the words of immortality.' "

"How then does it happen, Mrs. Aubrey, that different
churches teach such conflicting doctrines ? Why are there so
many denominations ? If the teachings of the Bible are so
plain, how can such various creeds arise ?"

" Because poor human nature is so full of foibles ; because
charity, the fundamental doctrine of Christ, is almost lost
sight of by those churches ; it has dwindled into a mere speck,
in comparison with the trifles which they have magnified to
usurp its place. Instead of one great Christian church, holding
the doctrines of the New Testament, practising the true spirit
of the Saviour, and in genuine charity allowing its members to
judge for themselves in the minor questions relating to religion :
such for instance as the mode of baptism, the privilege of be
lieving presbyters and bishops equal in dignity, or otherwise, as
the case may be, the necessity of ministers wearing surplice, or
the contrary, as individual taste dictates, we have various deno-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 59

minatioDS, all erected to promulgate some particular dogma, to
magnify and exalt as all-important some trifling difference in the
form of church government. Once established, the members of
each sect apply themselves to the aggrandizement of their pecu
liar church ; and thus it comes to pass that instead of one vast
brotherhood, united against sin and infidelity, they are disgrace
fully wrangling about sectarian matters of no consequence
whatever. In all this there is much totally antagonistic in the
principles inculcated by our Saviour, who expressly denounced
the sliort-sighted bigotry of those who magnified external ob
servances and non-essentials at the expense of the genuine spirit
of their religion. I wish most earnestly that these denomina
tional barriers and distinctions could be swept away, that the
names of Methodist and Episcopal, Presbyterian and Baptist
could be obliterated, and that all the members were gathered
harmoniously into one world-wide pale, the Protestant Church
of our Lord Jesus Christ."

" Mrs. Aubrey, do you belong to any church ?"
" Yes, Irene, because Christ founded a church, and I think
every man and woman should belong to some religious organiza
tion. Moreover, unless a member of some one of the denomi
nations, you can not commune ; and, as the sacrament was par
ticularly established by our Saviour, all ought to be able to
partake of it. I think it a matter of little consequence which
of the evangelical sects one selects. Do not imagine that I be
lieve people can only be saved by entrance into some church ; I
think no such thing ; the church is a valuable instrument, but
God who established it can work without it. Still, it is very
reasonable to suppose that regular attendance on divine service
fosters piety and keeps the subject of our duty more constantly
before us."

She had finished her knitting, and sat with her hands folded
in her lap — the meek face more than usually serene, the sight
less eyes directed toward her visitor. Sunshine fleeted the bare
boards under the window, flashed on the tin vessels ranged on
the shelves, and lingered like a halo around Irene's head. Her
hair swept on the floor, and the cat played now and then with

60 MACARIA ; OR,

the golden rings so softly as not to attract notice, as though
conscious the new toy was precious. The countenance of the
group contrasted vividly : the sweet resignation of the blind
sufferer, the marble purity of Irene's face, and just in the rear,
Electra's broad, pale brow and restless, troubled, midnight eyes.
The latter had been drawing at the table in the middle of the
room, and now sat leaning on her hand, watching the two at the
fire. Presently Irene approached and began to examine the
drawings, which were fragmentary, except one or two heads, and
a sketch taken from the bank opposite the Falls. After some
moments passed in looking over them, Irene addressed the quiet
little figure.

" Have you been to Mr. Clifton's studio ?"

" No ; who is he ?"

" An artist from New York. His health is poor, and he is
spending the winter south. Have n't you heard of him ? Every
body is having portraits taken. He is painting mine now — fa
ther would make me sit again, though he has a likeness which
was painted four years ago. I am going down to-morrow for
my last sitting, and should like very much for you to go with
me. Perhaps Mr. Clifton can give you some valuable hints.
Will you go ?"

" With great pleasure."

" Then I will call for you a little before ten o'clock. Here
are some crayons I bought for you a week ago. Good-by."

She left the room as quietly as she had entered, and found
Paragon waiting for her at the door. He gambolled before her
all the way — now darting off, and as suddenly returning, to
throw himself at her feet and wonder why she failed to caress
him as usual. Other thoughts engaged her now ; she could see
nothing but the form of the widow, and to-day she realized more
than ever before how much she needed a mother. Low, sweet,
gentle tones rarely fell upon her ear, and, except her father and
Dr. Arnold, no one had ever attempted to caress her. She
wearied of the fourteen years of isolation, and now on entering
her fifteenth looked about her for at least one congenial spirit.
She knew of none but Electra and Mrs. Aubrey who in any de-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 61

gree sympathized with her, and from these she was debarred by
parental interdict. Miss Margaret, seconded by Mr. Hunting
don, now constantly prescribed a course of conduct detestable to
the girl, who plainly perceived that as she grew older these dif
ferences increased. Was it her duty to submit unhesitatingly to
their dictation ? Did the command of filial obedience embrace
all such matters, or was it modified — limited by the right of in
dividual conscience ? This consultation was long and patient,
and tho conclusion unalterable. She would do what she be
lieved to be proper, whatever she thought her duty, at all haz
ards. She had no one to guide her, and must rely only on God
and her own heart.

The following day Miss Margaret accompanied her to tke
studio. As the carriage approached the cottage-gate, Irene di
rected the driver to stop.

" For what ?" asked her aunt.

" Electra Grey is going with me ; I promised to call for her.
She has an extraordinary talent for drawing, and I want to in
troduce her to Mr. Clifton. Open the door, Andrew."

" Irene, are you deranged ! Your father never would forgive
you if he knew you associated with those people. I can't think
of allowing that girl to enter this carriage. Drive on. I must
really speak to Leonard about your obstinacy in visiting at
that—"

"Stop, Andrew ! If you don't choose to ride with Electra,
aunt Margaret, you may go on alone, for either she shall ride or
I will walk with her.'7

Andrew opened the door, and she was stepping out, when
Electra appeared in the walk and immediately joined her. Miss
Margaret was thoroughly aroused and indignant, but thought it
best to submit for the time, and when Irene introduced her friend
she took no notice of her whatever, except by drawing herself
up in one corner and lowering her veil. The girls talked during
the remainder of the ride, and when they reached Mr. Clifton's
door ran up the steps together, totally unmindful of the august
lady's ill humor.

The artist was standing before an easel which held Irene's un-

62 MACARIA ; OR,

finished portrait, and as he turned to greet his visitors, Electra
saw that, though thin and pale, his face was one of rare beauty
and benevolence. His brown, curling hair hung loosely about
his shoulders, and an uncommonly long beard of the same silky
texture descended almost to his waist. He shook hands with
Irene, and looked inquiringly at her companion.

" Mr. Clifton, this is Miss Electra Grey, whose drawings I
mentioned to you last week. I wish, if you please, you would
examine some of them when you have leisure."

Electra looked for an instant into his large, clear gray eyes
as he took her drawings and said he would be glad to assist her,
and knew that henceforth the tangled path would be smoothed
aftid widened. She stood at the back of his chair during the
hour's sitting, and with peculiar interest watched the strokes of
his brush as the portrait grew under his practised hand. When
Irene rose, the orphan moved away and began to scrutinize the
numerous pictures scattered about the room. A great joy filled
her heart and illumined her face, and she waited for the words
of encouragement that she felt assured would be spoken. The
artist looked over her sketches slowly, carefully, and his eye went
back to her brilliant countenance, as if to read there answers to
ciphers which perplexed him. But yet more baffling cryptogra
phy met him in the deep, flashing, appealing eyes, on the crim
son, quivering lips, on the low, full brow, with its widely-separa
ted black arches. Evidently the face possessed far more attrac
tion than the drawings, and he made her sit down beside him,
and passed his hand over her head and temples, as a professed
phrenologist might preparatory to rendering a chart.

" Your sketches are very rough, very crude, but they also dis
play great power of thought ; some of them singular beauty of
conception ; and I see from your countenance that you are dis
satisfied because the execution falls so far short of the concep
tion. Let me talk to you candidly ; you have uncommon tal
ent, but the most exalted genius can not dispense with laborious
study. Michael Arigelo studied anatomy for twelve years ; you
will require long and earnest application before you can possibly
accomplish anything of importance. The study of Art is no

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 63

mere pastime, as some people suppose ; an artist's life is an ar
duous one at best. I have been told something of your history ;
you are very poor, and wish to make painting a profession.
Think well before you decide this matter ; remember that long,
tedious months must elapse before you can hope to execute even
an ordinary portrait. You must acquaint yourself with the
anatomy of the human system before you undertake anything.
I thought I had finished my course seven years ago, but I went
to Italy and soon saw that I had only begun to learn my profes
sion. Think well of all this."

" I have thought of it ; I am willing to work any number of
years ; I have decided, and I am not to be frightened from my
purpose. I am poor, I can barely buy the necessary materials,
much less the books, but I will be an artist yet. I have decided,
sir ; it is no new whim ; it has been a bright dream to me all
my life, and I am determined to realize it."

" Amen ; so let it be, then. I shall remain here some weeks
longer ; come to me every day at ten o'clock, and I will instruct
you. You shall have such books as you need, and with perse
verance you have nothing to fear."

He went into the adjoining room, and returned with a small
volume. As he gave it to her, with some directions concerning
the contents, she caught his hand to her lips, saying hastily :

" My guardian angel certainly brought you here to spend the
winter. Oh, sir ! I will prove my gratitude for your goodness
by showing that I am not unworthy of it. I thank you from
the very depths of my glad heart."

As she released his hand and left the studio he found two
bright drops on his fingers, drops called forth by the most in
tense joy she had ever known. Having some commission from
her aunt, she did not re-enter the carriage, and, after thanking
Irene for her kindness, walked away. The ride home was very
silent, Miss Margaret sat stiff and icy, looking quite insulted,
while her niece was too much engrossed by other reflections to
notice her. The latter spent the remainder of the morning in
writing to Hugh and correcting her French exercises, arid when
summoned to dinner she entered the room expecting a storm. A

64: MACARIA ; OE,

glance sufficed to show her that Miss Margaret had not yet
spoken to her father ; though it was evident from her counte
nance that she was about to make what she considered an im
portant revelation. The meal passed, however, without any allusion
.to the subject, and, knowing what she had to expect, Irene im
mediately withdrew to the library to give her aunt an oppor
tunity of unburdening her mind. The struggle must come some
time, and she longed to have it over as soon as possible. She
threw up the sash, seated herself on the broad cedar window-sill,
and began to work out a sum in Algebra. Nearly a half-hour
passed ; the slamming of the dining-room door was like the first
line of foam, curling and whitening the sea when the tempest
sweeps forward ; her father stamped into the library, and the
storm broke over her.

" Irene ! did n't I positively order you to keep away from
that Aubrey family ? What do you mean by setting me at de
fiance in this way, you wilful, spoiled, hard-headed piece ? Do
you suppose I intend to put up with your obstinacy all my life,
and let you walk roughshod over me and my commands ? You
have queened it long enough, my lady. If I don't rein you up,
you will turn your aunt and me out of the house next, arid invite
that precious Aubrey crew to take possession. Your confound
ed stubbornness will ruin you yet. You deserve a good whip
ping, miss ; I can hardly keep my hands off of you."

He did not ; rough hands seized her shoulder, jerked her from
the window-sill, and shook her violently. Down fell book, slate,
and pencil with a crash ; down swept the heavy hair, blinding her.
She put it back, folded her hands behind her as if for support,
and, looking up at him, said in a low, steady, yet grieved tone :

" I am very sorry you are angry with me, father."

"Devilish sorry, I dare say ! Don't be hypocritical ! Did n't
I tell you to keep away from those people ? Don't stand there
like a block of stone ; answer me ! "

" Yes, sir ; but I did not promise to do so. I arn not hypo
critical, father."

" You did not promise, indeed ! What do I care for prom
ises ? It was your duty to obey me."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 65

" I don't think it was, father, when you refused to give me any
reason for avoiding Mrs. Aubrey or her family. They are unfor
tunate, but honorable people ; and, being very poor and afflict
ed, I felt sorry for them. I can't see how my going there oc
casionally harms you, or me, or anybody else. I know very
well that you dislike them, but you never told me why, and I
can not imagine any good reason for it. Father, if I love them,
why should not I associate with them ? n

"Because I say you shan't 1 you tormenting, headstrong little
imp 1 "

" My father, that is no reason."

" Reason 1 I will put you where you will have no occasion
for reasons. Oh ! I can match you, you perverse little wretch !
I am going to send you to a boarding-school, do you hear that ?
send you where you will have no Aubrey's to abet your obsti
nacy and disobedience ; where that temper of yours can be
curbed. How will you relish getting up before day, kindling
your own fire, if you have any, making your own bed, and liv
ing on bread and water ? I will take you to New York, and
keep you there till you are grown and learn common sense.
Now get out of my sight ! "

With a stamp of rage, he pointed to the door. Hitherto she
had stood quite still, but now an expression of anguish passed
swiftly over her face, and she put out her hands appealingly —

" Father ! my father ! don't send me away ! Please let me
stay at home."

" Not if I live long enough to take you. Just as certainly as
the sun shines in heaven, you will go as soon as your clothes can
be made. Your aunt will have you ready in a week. Don't
open your mouth to me ! I don't want to hear another word
from you. Take yourself off."

She picked up- her slate and book and left the room. Her hat
hung on the rack in the hall, and, taking it down, she passed
out through the rear piazza. Paragon leaped and whined at
sight of her ; she unchained him, and, leaving the yard, turned
into a narrow zigzag path, leading in an opposite direction from
the front of the house. The building stood on quite, a hill, one

66 MAC ARIA ; OK,

side of which sloped down to the brink of a creek that emptied
itself into the river a mile above the town. This declivity was
thickly wooded, and, on the opposite side of the stream, a dense
swamp stretched away. Cypress, pine, beech, magnolias tower
ed far as the eye could reach, and now, in the gathering gloom
of evening, looked sombre and solemn. This was a favorite
haunt of Irene's ; she knew every nook of the forest and bend
of the creek as well as the shy rabbits that flitted away at her
approach ; and, on this occasion, she sought a rude seat, formed
by the interlacing of two wild grape-vines. At her feet the
channel ran deep and strong, and the rocky bed was distinctly
seen ; but a few yards off the stream widened into a small lake,
and there, on its dark, still surface, masses of water-lilies spread
out their broad, green, glossy leaves. It was a lonely place ;
even in the day owls hooted one to another, and strange, harsh
cries were heard from birds that never forsook the swamp. It
was April, early April, and from the hill-side, fringed with
honeysuckles of varied hue, and festooned with yellow jasmine
that clambered in wild luxuriance over tree and shrub, the south
ern breeze wafted spicy, intoxicating aromas. Redbuds lifted
their rosy limbs against dark, polished magnolias, and here and
there masses of snow told where the dogwoods grew. Clusters
of violets embroidered the hill-side, and crimson woodbine trail
ed over the ground, catching at every drooping bongh, and
climbing stealthily, anxious, like all weak natures, to hang on
something sturdy. Irene usually revelled amid this wealth of
floral beauty, but now she could not enjoy it. She looked at her
favorites, and understood what was meant by the words —

" I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are."

The first great grief of her life had fallen on her ; heretofore
all had been so serene, so flowery, that she could not easily un
derstand or endure the crushing weight on her heart. Reared
in seclusion, the thought of her being sent from her beautiful,
luxurious home, and thrust among utter strangers, startled and
filled her with dread. She was astonished, pained, and mortified

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 67

by her father's harsh language ; and, loving him very sincerely,
she shrank from the long separation he threatened : yet, amid
all these complex emotions, she felt not the slightest regret for
the course she had pursued ; under similar circumstances sjie
would again act just as she had done. Then came the remem
brance that she might meet her unfortunate friends no more.
Mrs. Aubrey was evidently declining rapidly, and what would
become of Electra and Russell ? They might move away ; they,
too, might die ; nay, she might never come back to the home of
her birth ; death's harvest was in all seasons, and, looking upon
the lakelet, she shuddered and moaned. The snowy water-lilies
glanced up at her, and seemed to say, as they trembled unceas
ingly in the current far below the surface, " bend ! bend !" A
passage in Dante, which she had read the week before, crossed
her mind now, as she noted the constant swaying of the fragile
flowers, so impotent to resist that under-current sweeping their
roots :

No other plant,

Covered with leaves, or hardened in its stalk,
There lives, not bending to the water's sway."

He had selected reeds as a type of patience, but the pale, pure,
quivering lilies were to her a far more impressive symbol of re
signation. An aged gnarled cypress towered above her, and from
the knotted limbs drooped long funeral wreaths of gray moss,
fluttering mournfully in the evening wind, like badges of crape
in houses 'of death. From amid this sombre drapery came the
lonely hoot of an owl, and, with a strange sensation of desola
tion, Irene fell on her knees and committed herself to the care
of the Great Shepherd. Darkness closed around, but as she
prayed the silver rays of the evening star peered down through
the trembling streamers of moss, and gleamed on the upturned
face. She broke one of the lilies, and, fastening it among her
curls, followed Paragon up the hill-side. The week which suc
ceeded was wretched to the girl, for her father's surveillance
prevented her from visiting the cottage, even to say adieu to its
inmates ; and no alternative presented itself but to leave for
them (in the hands of Nellie, her devoted nurse,) a note contain-

68 MAC ARIA ; OK,

ing a few parting words and assurances of unfading friendship
and remembrance. The day of departure dawned rainy, gloomy,
and the wind sobbed and wailed down the avenue as Irene stood
at her window, looking out on the lawn where her life had been
passed. Although Nellie was weeping bitterly at her side, she
had not shed a tear ; but the face was full of grief, and her lit
tle hands were clasped tightly as the faithful nurse pressed them
affectionately in her palms. Disengaging herself, Irene took an
umbrella and went to the stable for a last look at Erebus. This
tried her sorely, and her lip was unsteady when she left him and
sought Paragon. The latter, little suspecting the true state of
affairs, gambolled and whined as joyously as ever at her ap
proach ; and, when the crowned head went down meaningly on
his silky neck, he barked and frisked in recognition of the caress.
The breakfast-bell summoned her away, and, a half-hour after,
slie saw the lofty columns of the old house fade from view, and
knew that many months, perhaps years, must elapse before the
ancestral trees of the long avenue would wave again over the
head of their young mistress. Her father sat beside her, moody
and silent, and, when the brick wall and arched iron gate van
ished from her sight, she sank back in one corner, and, covering
her face with her hands, smothered a groan and fought desper
ately with her voiceless anguish.

CHAPTER VI.

YOUTH is hopeful, beautifully hopeful, and fresh, pure hearts
rebound from sorrow with wonderful elasticity. When clouds
lower and the way seems dark and tangled, hope flies forward,
pioneer-like, to clear away all obstacles. Huge barriers frown
ed between Electra and the heights she strained every nerve to
reach, but never for au instant did she doubt the success of the
struggle. Like Orpheus seeking Eurydice, to look back was

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 69

fearful and hazardous 5 and fixing her eyes steadily on the
future, she allowed herself no haunting foreboding.

" Cry, faint not ! climb the summit's slope
Beyond the farthest flights of hope,
Wrapt in dense cloud from base to cope."

What human powers can endure and accomplish is to be
measured only by the necessity which goads, and all herculean
trophies are won by desperate needs. The laws which govern
our moral and intellectual natures are as rigid and inevitable
in their operation as those whose workings we constantly trace
in the physical world ; of which truth the history of nations
and memoirs of great men furnish innumerable exemplifications.
Consequently, it is both unjust and illogical to judge of the
probability of this or that event or series of events, or the natu
ralness of this or that character, whether in authenticated his
tory or fictitious works, without a thorough acquaintance with
all antecedents, and the various relations surrounding the actor.
Reader, as you walk side by side with these whose lives I am
narrating, bear this in mind — the silver- winged pigeons that
flash in and out of the venerable trees shading the old home
stead, and coo and flutter amid the rainbow spray of the foun
tain, would droop, shiver, and die on bald, awful Alpine pin
nacles, where in the fierce howl, and scourging of tempests
eaglets wheel in triumph, and scream defiantly ; and tender
pet lambs, coaxed into flowery, luxuriant meadows, would soon
make their graves in the murderous snow over which young
chamois bleat and skip in wild glee, fearless as the everlasting
hills.

Day after day Electra toiled over her work ; the delicate
frame learned its destiny, sighed at its future, but grew strong ;
and complaining nerves, catching some of her iron resolve, en
dured patiently — became finally thoroughly inured to their
arduous duties. Her aunt constantly claimed her attention for
the various little offices so grateful to an invalid, but by an
extraordinary alchemy she contrived to convert every interrup
tion into an occasion of profit. If lending her arm to support

70 MACAEIA ; OR,

the drooping form in a short walk around the little garden, she
would describe the varying tints of the sky, as the clouds shifted
their gorgeous curtains of purple and scarlet and gold, until
thoroughly familiarized with the varied chameleon hues and
strange, grotesque outlines traced by every rift. Nature was
a vast storehouse of matchless, unapproachable beauty to that
eager, thirsty soul — a boundless studio, filled with wonderful
creations, open to her at all times — in the rosy, opaline flush of
morning, the blazing splendor of full-orbed noon, the silver gray
of twilight, peopled with dusky phantoms, weird and shifting
as Fata-Morgana — the still sublimity, the solemn, sacred witch
ery of star-crowned, immemorial Night. She answered the
first hoarse call of thunder by stationing herself at the window
to watch the stormy panorama sweep over the heavens 5 and
not Ruysdael, nor Vandervelde, nor Turner ever gazed with
more intense delight on the hurrying masses of vapor than that
fragile girl, as she stood with forked lightning glaring luridly
over her upturned, enraptured face. Favored ones of fortune
lean against marble pillars in royal museums, to study the im
perishable works of earth's grandest old artists ; but she lived
in a cosmopolitan temple, whose skyey frescos were fresh from
the han-ds of Jehovah himself. The rapidity of her progress
astonished Mr. Clifton. He questioned her concerning the pro
cesses she employed in some of her curious combinations, but
the fragmentary, abstracted nature of her conversation during
the hours of instruction gave him little satisfactory information.
His interest in her increased, until finally it became absorbing,
and he gave her all the time she could spare from home. The
eagerness with which she listened to his directions, the facility
with which she applied his rules, fully repaid him ; and from
day to day he postponed his return to the North, reluctant to
leave his indefatigable pupil. Now and then the time of
departure was fixed, but ere it arrived he wavered and pro
crastinated.

Electra knew that his stay had been prolonged beyond his
original intention, and she dreaded the hour when she should
be deprived of his aid and advice. Though their acquaintance

ALTARS OP SACRIFICE. 71

had been so short, a strangely strong feeling had grown up in
her heart toward him ; a feeling of clinging tenderness, blended
with earnest and undying gratitude. She knew that he under
stood her character and appreciated her struggles, and it soothed
her fierce, proud heart, in some degree, to receive from him
those tokens of constant remembrance which she so yearned to
have from Russell. She felt, too, that she was not regarded
as a stranger by the artist ; she could see his ead eyes brighten
at her entrance, and detect the tremor in his hand and voice
when he spoke of going home. His health had improved, and
the heat of summer had come ; why did he linger ? His even
ings were often spent at the cottage, and even Mrs. Aubrey
learned to smile at the sound of his step.

One morning as Electra finished her lesson and rose to go,
he said slowly, as if watching the effect of his words :

" This is the last hour I can give you. In two days I return
to New York. ..-Letters of importance came this morning; I
have waited here too long already."

" Are you in earnest this time ?"

"I am; it is absolutely necessary that I should return
home."

" Mr. Clifton, what shall I do without you ?"

" Suppose you had never seen me ?"

" Then I should not have had to lose you. Oh, sir ! I need
you very much."

" Electra, child, you will conquer your difficulties without
assistance from any one. You have nothing to fear."

" Yes, I know I shall conquer at last, but the way would be
so much easier if you were only with me. I shall miss you
more than I can tell you."

He passed his hand over his short shining hair, and mused
for a moment as if laying conflicting emotions in the balance.
She heard his deep, labored breathing, and saw the working of
the muscles in his pale face ; when he spoke, his voice was
husky :

" You are right ; you need me, and I want you always with
me; we must not be parted. Electra, I say we shall not.

72 MACARIA ; OR,

Come to me, put your hands in mine — promise me that you
will be my child, my pupil ; I will taks you to my mother, and
we need never be separated. You require aid, such as can not
be had here ; in New York you shall have all that you want.
Will you come with me ?"

He held her hands in a vice-like grasp, and looked pleadingly
into her astonished countenance. A mist gathered before her,
and she closed her eyes.

" Electra, will you come ?"

" Give me ten minutes to think," she answered shiveringly.
He turned away and walked up and down the floor, taking care
to conceal his face. She sat down before a table and dropped
her forehead in her palms. What slight things often shape
human destiny ; how little people realize the consequences of
seemingly trivial words, looks, or actions ! The day before
Electra would unhesitatingly have declined this proposition ;
but only that morning, as she passed Russell's door before
breakfast, she saw him with Irene's farewell note in his hand ;
saw him press his lips hastily to the signature. Her jealous
heart was on fire ; the consciousness of his "love for another
rendered her reckless and indescribably miserable. In this
mood she reflected ; Mr. Clifton seemed to have become warmly
attached to her, and could help her to attain the eminence she
had in view ; she was poor, why not accept his generous offer ?
Russell would not miss her — would not care whether she left
him or remained. If she were far away, at least she would not
be tormented by his coldness and indifference. The future
(barring her ambitious dreams) was dim, joyless ; she had to
earn a support, she scorned to be dependent on her cousin, fame
lured her on. Yes, she would go. Mr. Clifton took out his
watch and paused beside her :

" Ten minutes have passed ; Electra, will you come ?"

She raised her bloodless face, stamped with stern resolve, and
ere the words were pronounced he read his answer in the defiant
gleam of "her eyes, in the hard, curved lines of the mouth.

" Mr. Clifton, I can not go with you just now, for at present
I can not, ought not, to leave my aunt. Helpless as she is, it

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 73

would be cruel, ungrateful, to desert her ; but things can not
continue this way much longer, and I promise you that as soon,
as I can I will go to you. I want to be with you ; I want
somebody to care for me, and I know you will be a kind friend
to me always. Most gratefully will I accept your generous
offer so soon as I feel that I can do so."

He stooped and touched her forehead with his lips.

" My dear Electra, I will shield you from trials and diffi
culties ; I will prize you above everything on earth ; I know
you are making a great sacrifice to be with me ; I know how
hard it is for you to leave home and relatives. But, my child,
your aunt has only a short time to live ; she is failing very fast, and
your duty to her will not keep you here long. You are right to
remain with her, but when she needs you no more I shall expect
you to come to me in New York. Meantime, I shall write to
you frequently, and supply you with such books and materials
as you require. My pupil, I long to have you in my own home.
Remember, no matter what happens, you have promised your
self to me."

" I shall not forget ;" but he saw her shudder.

" Shall I speak to your aunt about this matter before I go ?"

" No, it would only distress her ; leave it all with me. It is
late and I must go. Q-ood-by, sir."

He promised to see her again before his departure, and she
walked home writh her head bowed and a sharp continual pain
gnawing at her heart.

In the calm, peaceful years of ordinary cnildhood, the soul
matures slowly ; but a volcanic nature like Electra's, subjected
to galling trials, rapidly hardens, and answers every stroke with
the .metalic ring of age. Keen susceptibility to joy or pain
taught her early that less impressive characters are years in
learning, and it was lamentably true that while yet a mere girl,
she suffered as acutely as a woman. The battle of life must be
fought, and if one begins skirmishing in the cradle, tactics are
soon learned, and the conflict ends more speedily. But Electra
had also conned another lesson : to lock her troubles in her own
heart, voicing no complaint, and when she sought her aunt, and

4

74 MACAEIA; OK,

read aloud the favorite chapters in the Bible, or led her up and
down the garden- walk, talking of various things, telling of the
growth of pet plants, there was no indication whatever of any
unusual strife or extraordinary occurrence. Russell knew that
a change had come over his cousin, but was too constantly
engaged, too entirely absorbed by his studies, to ask or analyze
the cause. She never watched at the gate for him now, never
sprang with outstretched arms to meet him, never hung over
the back of his chair and caressed his hands as formerly.
When not waiting upon her auntr she was as intent upon
her books as he, and though invariably kind and unselfish in
her conduct toward him, she was evidently constrained in
his presence. As the summer wore on, Mrs. Aubrey's health
failed rapidly, and she was confined to her couch. There,
in a low chair close to the pillow, sat Electra reading, talking,
exerting herself to the utmost to cheer the widow. She filled
the thin fingers with dewy rosesr and expatiated on the glories
of the outer world, while the thoughts of the invalid wandered
to the approaching shores of another realm, and she thanked
God that though thick folds of darkness shrouded the earth, the
veil dropped from her soul and the spiritual vision grew clear
and piercing. If faith and resignation could be taught like
music or arithmetic, then had Electra learned the grandest
truths of Christianity j but it is a mournful fact that the bloody
seal of Experience must stamp the lesson ere deep thinkers or
strong natures receive it, and as she watched that precious life
fade, like the purple light of summer in evening skies, the only
feeling she knew was that of grief for the impending loss —
undefined apprehension of coming isolation. If Mrs. Aubrey
could have seen the countenance which bent over her pillow,
her serene soul would have been painfully disturbed. She felt
hot tears on her hands and cheeks, and knew that the lips
which pressed hers often trembled ; but this seemed natural
enough under the circumstances, and she sank quietly down to
the edge of the tomb ignorant of the sorrows that racked the
girl's heart. One morning when Mr. Campbell, the pastor,
had spent some time in the sick-room praying with the sufferer,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 75

and administering the sacrament of the Lord's supper, Electra
followed him to the door, leaving Russell with his mother. The
gentle pastor took her hand kindly, and looked at her with filling
eyes.

" You think my aunt is worse ?"

" Yes, my child. I think that very soon she will be with her
God. She will scarcely survive till night — "

She turned abruptly from him, and threw herself down across
the foot of the bed, burying her face in her arms. Russell sat
with his mother's hands in his, while she turned her brown eyes
toward him, and exhorted him to commit himself and his future
to the hands of a merciful God. She told him how the promises
of the Saviour had supported and cheered her in times of great
need, and implored him to dedicate his energies, his talents, his
life, to the service of his Maker. Electra was not forgotten;
she advised her to go to a cousin of her mother residing in Vir
ginia. Long before she had written to this lady, informing her
of her own feebleness and of the girl's helpless condition ; and
a kind answer had been returned, cordially inviting the orphan
to share her home, to become an inmate of her house. Rnssell
could take her to these relatives as soon as possible. To all
this no reply was made, and. a few moments later, when Russell
kissed her tenderly and raised her pillow, she said faintly —

<c If I could look upon your face once more, my son, it would
not be hard to die. Let me see you in heaven, my dear, dear
boy." These were the last words, and soon after a stupor fell
upon her. Hour after hour passed ; Mrs. Campbell came and
sat beside the bed, and the three remained silent, now and then
lifting bowed heads to look at the sleeper. Not a sound broke
the stillness save the occasional chirp of a cricket, and a shy
mouse crept twice across the floor, wondering at the silence, fix
ing its twinkling bright eyes on the motionless figures. The au
tumn day died slowly as the widow, and when the clock dirged
out the sunset hour Russell rose, and, putting back the window
curtains, stooped and laid his face close to his mother's. Life is
at best a struggle, and such perfect repose as greeted him is
found only when the marble hands of Death transfer the soul to

76 MACAKIA ; OR,

its guardian angel. No pulsation stirred the folds over the
heart, or the soft bands of hair on the blue-veined temples ; the
still mouth had breathed its last sigh, and the meek brown eyes
had opened in eternity. The long, fierce ordeal had ended,
the flames died out, and from smouldering ashes the purified
spirit that had toiled and fainted not, that had been faithful to
the end, patiently bearing many crosses, heard the voice of the
Great Shepherd, and soared joyfully to the pearly gates of the
Everlasting Home. The day bore her away on its wings, and
as Russell touched the icy cheek a despairing cry rolled through
the silent cottage —

" Oh, mother I my own precious' dead mother ! "
Falling on his knees, he laid his head on her pillow, and when
kind friendly hands bore her into the adjoining room, he knelt
there still, unconscious of what passed, knowing only that the
keenest of many blows had fallen, that the last and bitterest
vial of sorrows had been emptied.

Night folded her starry curtains around the earth ; darkness
settled on river and hill and valley. It was late September ;
autumn winds rose, eager for their work of death, and rushed
rudely through the forests, shaking the sturdy primeval mon-
archs in token of their mission and mastery ; and shivering
leaves rustled down before them, drifting into tiny grave-like
hillocks. Gradually the stars caught the contagious gloom, and
shrank behind the cloud -skirts sweeping the cold sky. It was
a solemn, melancholy night, full of dreary phantoms, presaging
a dark, dismal morrow. Amy Aubrey's still form reposed on
the draped table in the kitchen, and the fitful candle-light show
ed only a dim, rigid outline of white linen. Mr. Campbell and
his wife sat together in the next room, and the two young
mourners were left in the silence of the kitchen. Russell sat at
the open window, near the table ; his head leaned on his hand,
tearless, mute, still as his mother. At the opposite window
stood Electra, pressing her face against the frame, looking out
into the moaning, struggling night, striving to read the mystic
characters dimly traced on the ash-gray hurrying clouds as the
reckless winds parted their wan folds. The stony face of her

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE.

merciless destiny seemed to frown down at her, cold, grim,
Sphinx-like. Hitherto she had walked with loved ones ; now a
vast sepulchre yawned to receive them ; a tomb of clay for
the quiet sleeper, one of perhaps final separation for Russell,
and over the last hideous chasm Hope hovered with drooping
wings. To leave him was like inurning her heart and all the
joy she had ever known ; and then, to crown her agony, a thous
and Furies hissed " Irene will come back, and loving her he will
forget that you toil among strangers."

She crushed her fingers against each other and stifled a groan,
while the chilling . voice of Destiny added: "trample out this
weakness, your path and his here separate widely ; you are noth
ing to him, go to work earnestly, and cease repining." She
shrank away from the window, and approached her cousin. For
two hours he had not changed his position ; as far as she knew,
had not moved a muscle. She sat down at his feet and crossed
her arms over his knees ; he took no notice of her.

" Oh, Russell ! say something to me, or I shall die."

It was the last wail she ever suffered to escape her in his pre
sence. He raised his head and put his hand on her forehead,
but the trembling lips re-fused their office, and as she looked up
at him tears rolled slowly down and fell on her cheek. She
would have given worlds to mingle her tears with his, but no
moisture came to her burning eyes ; and there these two, soon to
separate, passed the remaining hours of that long wretched night
of watching. The stormy day lifted her pale, mournful face at
last, and with it came the dreary patter and sobbing of autumn
rain, making it doubly harrowing to commit the precious form
to its long, last resting-place. Electra stood up beside her cou
sin and folded her arms together.

" Russell, I am not' going to that cousin in Virginia. I could
owe my bread and clothes to you, but not to her. She has
children, and I do not intend to live on her charity. I know
you, and I must part ; the sooner the better. I would not be
willing to burden you a day longer. I am going to fit myself
to work profitably. Mr. Clifton offered me a home in his house,
said his mother was lonely, and would be rejoiced to have me ;

78 MACAKIA ; OK,

that letter which I received last week contained one from her,
also urging me to come ; and, Russell, I am going to New
York to study with him as long as I need instruction. I did
not tell aunt of this, because I knew it would grieve her to think
that I would be thrown with strangers ; and having fully deter
mined to take this step, thought it best not to distress her by
any allusion to it. You know it is my own affair, and I can de
cide it better than any one else."

His eyes were fixed on the shrouded table, and he answered
without looking at her :

" No, Electra, you must go to Mrs. Harden ; she seems anx
ious to have you ; and as for being dependent upon charity, you
never shall be so long as I live. You will merely reside under
her roof, and shall not cost her a cent ; leave this with me."

" I cannot leave it with anybody ; I must depend upon my
self. I have thought a great deal about it, and my resolution is
not to be shaken. You have been very kind to me, Russell, all
my life ; and only God knows how I love and thank you. But
I will not accept your hard earnings in future ; I should be mis
erable unless at work, and I tell you I must and will go to Mr.
Clifton."

He looked at her now, surprised and pained.

" What is the matter with you, Electra ? Have I not sor
rows enough, that you must try to add another by your obsti
nacy ? What would she think of you ?"

He rose, and laid his hand on the pure, smooth brow of the
dead.

"There is nothing new the matter with me. I have determined
to go ; nobody has any right to control me, arid it is worse than
useless for you to oppose me. We have but little time to spend
together, do not let us quarrel here in tier presence. Let there
be peace between us in these last hours. Oh, Russell 1 it is
hard enough to part, even in love and kindness ; do not add
painful contention.''

" So you prefer utter strangers to your relatives and friends ?"

" Ties of blood are not the strongest ; strangers step in to aid
where relatives sometimes stand aloof, and watch a fatal strug-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 79

gle. Remember Irene ; who is nearer to you, she or your grand
father ? Such a friend Mr. Clifton is to me, and go to him I
will at all hazards. Drop the subject, if you please."

He looked at her an instant, then turned once more to his
mother's face, and his cousin left them together.

The day was so inclement that only Mr. and Mrs. Campbell
and Russell's employer atteirtled the funeral. These few follow
ed the gentle sleeper, and laid her down to rest till the star of
eternity dawns ; and the storm chanted a long, thrilling requiem
as the wet mound rose above the coffin.

Back to a desert home, whence the crown of joy had been
borne. What a hideous rack stands at the hearthstone whereon
merciless memory stretches the bereaved ones. In hours such as
this, we cry out fiercely : " The sun of our life has gone down in
starless, everlasting night ; earth has no more glory, no more
bloom or fragrance for us ; the voices of gleeful children, the ca
rol of summer birds, take the mournful measure of a dirge. We
hug this great grief to our hearts ; we hold our darling dead con
tinually before us, and refuse to be glad again." We forget that
Prometheus has passed from the world. Time bears precious
healing on its broad pinions ; folds its arms compassionately
about us as a pitying father j softly binds up the jagged wounds,
drugs memory, and though the poisonous sting is occasionally
thrust forth, she soon relapses into stupor. So in the infinite
mercy of our God, close at the heels of Azrael, follow the wing
ed hours laden, like Sisters of Charity, with balm for the people.

The kind-hearted pastor and his wife urged the orphans to re
move to their house for a few days at le#st, until the future could
be mapped ; but they preferred to meet and battle at once with
the spectre which they knew stood waiting in the desolate cot
tage. At midnight a heavy sleep fell on Russell, who had
thrown himself upon his mother's couch ; and, softly spreading
a shawl over him, Electra sat down by the dying fire on the
kitchen hearth, and looked her future in the face. A few days suf
ficed to prepare for her journey ; and a gentleman from New
York, who had met her cousin in Mr. Campbell's office, consent
ed to take charge of her, and commit her to Mr. Clifton's hands.

80 MACAEIA ; OE,

The scanty furniture was sent to an auction-room, and a piece
of board nailed to the gate-post announced that the cottage
was for rent. Russell decided to take his meals at a board
ing-house, and occupy a small room over the office, which Mr
Campbell had placed at his disposal. On the same day, the cou
sins bade adieu to the only spot they had called "home" for
many years, and as Russell locked the door and joined Electra,
his melancholy face expressed, far better than words could have
done, the pain it cost him to quit the house where his idolized
mother had lived, suffered^, and died. Mr. Colton was waiting
for Electra at the hotel, whither the stage had been driven for
passengers ; and as she drew near and saw her trunk among
others piled on top, she stopped and grasped Russell's hand be
tween both hers. A livid paleness settled on her face, while her
wild black eyes fastened on his features. She might never see
him again ; he was far dearer to her than her life ; how could
she bear to leave him, to put hundreds of miles between that face
and her own ? An icy hand clutched her heart as she gazed
into his deep, sad, beautiful eyes. His feeling for her was a
steady, serene affection, such as brothers have for dear young
sisters, and to give her up now filled him with genuine, earnest
sorrow.

" Electra, it is very hard to tell you good-by. You are all I
have left, and I shall be desolate indeed when you are away.
But the separation will not be long, I trust ; in a few years we
shall be able to have another home ; and where my home is,
yours must always be. Toil stretches before me like a sandy de
sert, but I shall cross it safely ; and then, Electra, my dear cou
sin, we shall be parted no more. I should feel far better satisfi
ed if you were with Mrs. Harden, but you determine otherwise,
and, as you told me a few days ago, I have no right to control
you. Write to me often, and believe that I shall do all that a
brother could for you. Mr. Colton is waiting ; good-by, dar
ling.'7

He bent down to kiss her, and the strained, tortured look
that greeted him he never forgot. She put her arms around his
neck, and clung to him like a shivering weed driven by rough

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 81

winds against a stone wall. He removed her clasping arms, and
led her to Mr. Colton ; but as the latter offered to assist her into
the stage, she drew back, that Russell might perform that office
While he almost lifted her to a seat, her fingers refused to re
lease his, and he was forced to disengage them. Other passen
gers entered, and the door was closed. Russell stood near the
window, and said gently, pitying her suffering :

" Electra, won't you say good-by ?"

She leaned out till her cheek touched his, and in a hoarse tone
uttered the fluttering words :

" Oh, Russell, Russell ! good-by ! May God have mercy on
me I"

And the stage rolled swiftly on ; men laughed, talked, and
smoked ; an October sun filled the sky with glory, and gilded
the trees on the road-side ; flame-colored leaves flashed in the
air as the wind tossed them before it ; the deep continual thunder
of the foaming falls rose soothingly from the river banks, and
a wretched human thing pressed her bloodless face against the
morocco lining of the ooach, and stared down, mute and tearless,
into the wide grave of her all —

" Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the under world ;
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge.
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more."

CHAPTER VII.

As tall tyrannous weeds and rank unshorn grass close over
and crush out slender, pure, odorous flowerets on a hill-side, so
the defects of Irene's character swiftly strengthened and devel
oped in the new atmosphere in which she found herself. All
the fostering stimulus of a hot-bed seemed applied to them, and
her nobler impulses were in imminent danger of being entirely
subdued. Diogenes Tenfelsdrockh's " Grim Tartary Enclosure

82 MACAEIA; OR,

of a High Seminary" is but the prototype of hundreds, scat
tered up and down through Christendom ; and the associations
which surrounded Irene were well calculated to destroy the
native purity and unselfishness of her nature. The school was
on an extensive scale, thoroughly fashionable, and thither pupils
were sent from every section of the United States. As re
garded educational advantages, the institution was unexception
able ; the professors were considered unsurpassed in their several
departments, and every provision was made for thorough tuition.
But what a Babel reigned outside of the recitation room ! One
hundred and forty girls to spend their recesses in envy, ridicule,
malice, and detraction. The homely squad banded in implacable
hatred against those whom nature had cast in moulds of beauty;
the indolent and obtuse ever on the alert to decry the successful
efforts of their superiors ; the simply-clad children of parents in
straightened circumstances feeding their discontent by gazing
with undisguised envy at the richly-apparalled darlings of for
tune ; and the favored ones sneering at these unfortunates,
pluming themselves on wealth, beauty, intellect, as the case
might be ; growing more arrogant and insufferable day by day.
A wretched climate this for a fresh, untainted soul ; and it is
surprising how really fond parents, anxious to promote the im
provement of their daughters in every respect hasten to place
them where poisonous vapors wreathe and curl about them. The
principals of such institutions are doubtless often conscientious,
and strive to discharge their duty faithfully ; but the evils of
human nature are obstinate, difficult to subdue under even the
most favorable circumstances : and where such a mass of un
trained souls are turned into an enclosure, to amuse themselves
at one another's expense, mischief is sure to follow. Anxious to
shake off the loneliness which so heavily oppressed her, Irene at
first mingled freely among her companions ; but she soon became
disgusted with the conduct and opinions of the majority, and en
deavored to find quiet in her own room. Maria Ashley, who
shared the apartment, was the spoiled child of a Louisiana plan
ter, and heB* views of life and duty were too utterly antagonistic
to Irene's to allow of any pleasure in each other's society. To

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 83

cheat the professors by ingenious stratagems, and out-dress her
companions seemed the sum total of the girl's aspirations ; and
gradually, hi lieu of the indifference she evinced toward her room
mate, a positive hatred made itself apparent in numberless
trifles. Feeling her own superiority, Irene held herself more
and more aloof ; her self-complacency grew amazingly, the grace
ful figure took a haughty, unbending posture, and a coldly con
temptuous smile throned itself on her lip. The inevitable con
sequence was, that she became a target for the school. Thus
the months crept away, her father wrote rarely, and Miss Mar
garet's letters contained no allusion to the family that had
caused her banishment. Finally she wrote to Dr. Arnold, in
quiring concerning Miss Aubrey, but no reply reached her.
Early in winter a new pupil, a " day scholar," joined her class ;
she resided in New York, and very soon a strong friendship
sprung up between them. Louisa Young was about Irene's
age, very pretty, very gentle, and winning in her manners. She
was the daughter of an affluent merchant, and was blessed in
the possession -of parents who strove to rear their children as
Christian parents should. Louisa's attachment was very warm
and lasting, and ere long she insisted that her friend should visit
her. Weary of the school, the latter gladly availed herself of
the invitation, and one Friday afternoon she accompanied
Louisa home. The mansion was almost palatial, and as Irene
entered the splendidly-furnished parlors her own Southern home
rose vividly before her.

" Mother, this is Miss Huntingdon."

Mrs. Young received her cordially, and as she held the gloved
hand, and kindly expressed her pleasure at meeting her
daughter's friend, the girl's heart gave a quick bound of joy.

" Come up stairs and put away your bonnet."

In Louisa's beautiful room the two sat talking of various
things till the tea-bell rang. Mr. Young's greeting was scarcely
less friendly than his wife's, and as they seated themselves at the
table, the stranger felt at home for the first time in New York.

" Where is brother ?" asked Louisa, glancing at the vacant
seat opposite her own.

84

" He has not coine home yet ; I wonder what keeps him ?
There he is now, in the hall," answered the mother.

A moment after, he entered and took his seat. He was tall,
rather handsome, and looked about thirty. His sister pre
sented her friend, and with a hasty bow he fastened his eyes on
her face. Probably he was unconscious of the steadiness of his
gaze, but Irene became restless under his fixed, earnest eye, and
perceiving her embarrassment, Mrs. Young said —

" Harvey, where have you been ? Dr. Melville called here
for you at four o'clock ; said you had made some engagement
with him."

" Yes, mother ; we have been visiting together this after
noon."

Withdrawing his eyes, he seemed to fall into a reverie, and
took no part in the conversation that ensued. As the party ad
journed to the sitting-room, he paused on the rug, and leaned
his elbow on the mantle. Louisa lingered and drew near. He
passed his arm around her shoulders, and looked affectionately
down at her.

" Well, what is it ?"

" Come into the sitting-room aud help me to entertain Irene,
instead of going off to your stupid study ; do, Harvey."

" A very reasonable request, truly ! I must quit my work to
talk to one of your schoolmates ; nonsense ! How old is she ?"

" Fifteen. Is not she a beauty ?"

11 Yes."

" Oh, Harvey ! you are so cold ! I thought you would ad
mire Irene prodigiously • and now you say ' yes' just exactly as
if I had asked you whether it was snowing out of doors."

" Which is certainly the fact ; the first flakes fell as I reach
ed home."

He stepped to the window and looked out, saying carelessly —

" Go to your friend, and when you are at a loss for conversa
tion, bring her to my study to see those sketches of Palmyra
and Baalbec."

He passed on to his work, and she to the sitting-room. The
study was simply the library, handsomely fitted up with choice

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 85

old books in richly-carved rosewood cases, and antique busts
peering down from the tops of each. Crimson damask curtains
swept from the ceiling to the carpet, and a luxurious arm-chair
sat before the glowing coal fire. The table was covered with
books, and loose sheets of paper were scattered around, as if the
occupant had been suddenly called from his labor. The gas
burned brightly ; all things beckoned back to work. He sat
down, glanced over the half-written sheets, numbered the pa^es,
laid them away in the drawer, and opened a volume of St. Chry-
sostom. As the light fell on his countenance, it was very appa
rent that he had been a student for years ; that his mind was
habituated to patient, laborious investigation. Gravity, utterly
free from sorrow or sternness, marked his face ; he might have
passed all his days in that quiet room, for any impress which the
cares or joys of out-door life had left on his features ; a strong,
clear intellect, a lofty, earnest soul ; a calm, unruffled heart, that
knew not half its own unsounded abysses. He read industrious
ly for some time, occasionally pausing to annotate ; and once or
twice he raised his head and listened, fancying footsteps in the
hall. Finally he pushed the book away, took a turn across the
floor, and resumed his seat. He could not rivet his attention on
St. Chrysostom, and folding his arms over his chest, he studied
the red coals instead. Soon after, unmistakable steps fell on his
ear, and a light tap at the door was followed by the entrance of
the two girls. Irene came very reluctantly, fearful of intruding ;
but he rose, and placed a chair 'for her close to his own, assuring
her that he was glad to see her there. Louisa found the port
folio, and, bringing it to the table, began to exhibit its treasures.
The two leaned over it, and as Irene sat resting her cheek on
her hand, the beauty of her face and figure was clearly revealed.
Harvey remained silent, watching the changing expression of the
visitor's countenance ; and once he put out his hand to touch
the hair floating over the back and arms of her chair. Gradu
ally his still heart stirred, his brow flushed, and a new light burn
ed in the deep clear eyes.

" Louisa, where did you get these ?"

" Brother brought them home when he came from the East."

86 MACAKIA; OR,

Irene lifted her eyes to his and said :

" Did you visit all these places ? Did you go to that crumb
ling Temple of the Sun ?"

He told her of his visit to the old world, of its mournful ruins,
its decaying glories ; of the lessons he learned there ; the sad,
but precious memories he brought back, and as he talked time
passed unheeded — she forgot her embarrassment, they were
strangers no longer. The clock struck ten ; Louisa rose at once.

" Thank you, Harvey, for giving us so much of your time.
Father and mother will be waiting for you."

" Yes, I will join you at once."

She led the way back to the sitting-room, and a few moments
afterward, to Irene's great surprise, the student came in, and sit
ting down before the table, opened the Bible and read a chapter.
Then all knelt and he prayed. There was a strange spell on the
visitor ; in all this there was something so unexpected. It was
the first time she had ever knelt around the family altar, and, as
she rose, that sitting-room seemed suddenly converted into a tem
ple of worship... Mutual "good-nights" were exchanged, and as
Irene turned toward the young minister, he held out his hand.
She gave him hers, and he pressed it gently, saying :

" I trust this is the first of many pleasant evenings which we
shall spend together."

" Thank you, sir. I hope so too, for I have not been so hap
py since I left home."

He smiled, and she walked on. ' His mother looked up as the
door closed behind her, and exclaimed :

" What a wonderfully beautiful face she has ! Louisa often
rhapsodized about her, and now I am not at all surprised at her
enthusiasm."

" Yes, such perfection of features as hers is seen but once in a
lifetime. I have traveled over the greater part of the world ; I
have looked upon all types of beauty, from the Andalusia.ns,
whom Murillo immortalized, to the far-famed Circassians of Ka-
barda, but never before have I found such a marvel of loveliness
as that girl. In Venice I spent a morning studying one of Ti-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 87

tian's faces, which somewhat resembles hers ; there is an approxi
mation to the same golden hair — forming a nimbus, as it were —
the same contour of features, but Titian's picture lacked her pure,
unsearchable, indescribable eyes. Have you noticed what a rare,
anomalous color her hair is ? There never was but one other
head like it ; the threads of fine gold in that celebrated lock of
her own hair, which Lucretia Borgia gave Cardinal Bembo,
match Irene Huntingdon's exactly. Well and truly has it been
said of that glittering relic in the Ambrozian library, ' If ever
hair was golden, it is this of Lucretia Borgia's ; it is not red, it
is not yellow, it is not auburn ; it is golden, and nothing else.'
I examined it curiously, and wondered whether the world could
furnish a parallel ; consequently, when that girl's head flashed
before me, I was startled. Stranger still than her beauty is the
fact that it has not spoiled her thus far."

He folded his arms over his chest as if crushing out something.

His mother laughed.

" Why, Harvey ! What a riddle you are ! Take care, my
son ; that child would never do for a minister's wife."

" Of course not ; who ever dreamed that she would ? Good
night, mother ; I shall not be at home to breakfast ; do not wait
for me, I am going to Long Island with Dr. Melville. He
bent down to receive her customary kiss, and went to his own
room.

" Louisa, how came your brother to be a minister ?" asked
Irene, when they had reached their apartment.

" When he was a boy he said he intended to preach, and
father never dissuaded him. I was quite young when he went to
the East, and since his return he has been so engrossed by his
theological studies that we are rarely together. Harvey is a
singular man — so silent, so equable, so cold in his manner, and
yet he has a warm heart. He has declined two calls since his
ordination ;.Dr. Melville's health is very poor, and Harvey fre
quently fills his pulpit. Sometimes he talks of going West, where
ministers are scarce ; thinks he could do more good there, but
mother will not consent for him to leave us. I am afraid,

88 MACAEIA; OE,

though, he will go — he is so determined when he once makes up
his mind. He is a dear, good brother ; I know you will like
him when you know him well ; everybody loves Harvey."

The inclemency of the weather confined the girls to the house
the following day. Harvey was absent at breakfast, and at din
ner -the chair opposite Irene's was still vacant. The afternoon
wore away, and at dusk Louisa opened the piano and began to
play Thalberg's " Home, Sweet Home." Irene sat on a sofa
near the window, and as she listened, visions of the South rose
before her, till Bhe realized —

" That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.5'

She longed inexpressibly for her own home, for her father, for
the suffering friends of the cottage, and, as she thought of his
many trials, Russell's image was more distinct than all. She
closed her eyes, and felt again his tight clasp of her hands ; his
passionate, pleading words sounded once more : " Oh, Irene !
believe in me ! believe in me always 1" It seemed to her so un
natural, so cruel that they should be separated. Then came the
memory of Mrs/ Aubrey's words of counsel : " Pray constantly;
keep yourself unspotted from the world." What would the
blind woman think if she knew" all the proud, scornful, harsh feel
ings which were now in her heart ? A sensation of deep contri
tion and humiliation came upon her ; she knew she was fast
losing the best impulses of her nature, and experienced keen
regret that she had yielded to the evil associations and tempta
tions of the school. How could she hope to grow better under
such circumstances ? What would become of her ? The snow
drifted against the panes, making fairy fretwork, and through
the feathery flakes the gaslight at the corner burned steadily on.
" So ought the light of conscience to burn," thought she ; "so
ought I to do my duty, no matter how I am situated. That
light is all the more necessary because it is stormy and dark."

Somebody took a seat near her, and though the room was dim
she knew the tall form and the touch of his hand.

" Good-evening, Miss Irene ; we have had a gloomy day. How
have you and Louisa spent it ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 89

" Not very profitably I daresay, though it has not appeared
at all gloomy to me. Have you been out in the snow ?"

" Yes, my work has been sad. I buried a mother and child
this afternoon, and have just come from a house of orphanage .
and grief. It is a difficult matter to realize how many aching
hearts there are in this great city. Our mahogany doors shut
out the wail that hourly goes up to God from the thousand suf
ferers in our midst."

Just then a servant lighted the chandelier, and she saw that
he looked graver than ever. Louisa came up and put her arm
around his neck, but he did not return the caress ; said a few
kind words, and rising, slowly paced the floor. As his eye fell
on the piano he paused, saying, " Come, Louisa, sing that song
for me."

She sat down, and began " Comfort ye my people :" and
gradually the sadness melted from his features. As Irene listened
to the solemn strains, she found it difficult to control her feelings,
and by .degrees her head sank until it touched the arm of the
sofa. The minister watched the effect of the music, and, resum
ing his seat, said gently — •

" It is genuine philosophy to extract comfort and aid from
every possible source. There is a vast amount of strength
needed to combat the evils and trials which necessarily occur in
even the sunniest, happiest lives ; and I find that sometimes I
derive far more from a song than a lengthy sermon. We are
curious bits of mechanism, and frequently music effects what
learned disputation or earnest exhortation could not accomplish.
I remember once, when I was a child, I had given my mother a
great deal of trouble by my obstinacy. She had entreated me,
reasoned with me, and finally punished me, but all to no purpose :
my wickedness had not been conquered. I was bitter and rebel
lious, and continued so all day. That evening she sat down to
the piano and sang a hymn for my father. The instant the
strains fell on my ear I felt softened, crept down stairs to the
parlor-door, and before she had finished was crying heartily, beg
ging her forgiveness. When a sublime air is made the vehicle
of a noble sentiment there is no computing the amount of good

90

it accomplishes, if properly directed. During my visit to Lon
don, I went to hear a very celebrated divine. I had just lost a
dear friend, the companion who traveled with me to Jerusalem
and Meroe, and I went to church full of sorrow. The sermon
was able, but had no more effect in comforting me than if I had
not listened to it. He preached from that text of Job treating
of the resurrection, and at the conclusion the very words of his
text, ' I know that my Redeemer liveth/ were sung by the choir.
When the organ rolled its solemn tones under the dim arched
roof, and I heard the voices of the choir swelling deep and full —

' Throb through the ribbed stone,'

then, and not till then, I appreciated the grand words to which
I had listened. The organ spoke to my soul as man could not,
and I left the church calm and comforted. All things are capa
ble of yielding benefit, if properly applied, though it is a lament
able truth that gross abuse has involved many possible sources
of good in disrepute ; and it is our duty to extract elevating in
fluences from all departments. Such an alchemy is especially
the privilege of a Christian."

As he talked she lifted her beautiful eyes and looked steadily
at him, and he thought that, of all the lovely things he had ever
seen, that face was the most peerless. She drew closer to him,
and said earnestly :

" Then you ought to be happy, Mr. Young."

" That implies a doubt that 1 am."

" You do not seem to me a very happy man."

" There you mistake me. I presume there are few happier
persons."

" Countenance is not a faithful index, then ; you look so ex
ceedingly grave."

" Do you suppose that gravity of face is incompatible with
sunshine in the heart ?"

" I think it reasonable that the sunshine should sparkle in the
eyes and gleam over the features. But, sir, I should like,
if you please, to talk to you a little about other things.
May I r

ALTAKS OF SACEIFICE. 91

" Certainly ; speak on, and speak freely ; you may trust me,
I think."

He smiled encouragingly as he spoke, and without a moment's
thought she laid her delicate hand in his.

" Mr. Young, I want somebody to advise me. Very often I
am at a loss about my duty, and, having no one to consult, either
do nothing at all or that which I should not. If it will not
trouble you too much, I should like to bring my difficulties to
you sometimes, and get you to direct me. If you will only talk
frankly to me, as you do to Louisa, oh ! I will be very
grateful."

He folded his hands softly over the white, fluttering fingers.

" Louisa is my sister, and therefore I do not hesitate to tell
her unwelcome truths. But you happen to be a perfect stran
ger, and might not relish my counsel."

" Try me."

" How old are you ? Pardon my inquisitiveness."

" Fifteen!"

" An age when young ladies prefer flattery to truth. Have
you no brother ?"

" I am an only child."

" You would like a brother, however ?"

"Yes, sir, above all things."

" Take care ; you express yourself strongly. If you can fancy
me for a brother, consider me such. One thing I can promise,
you will have a guardian sleepless as La don, and untiring in his
efforts to aid you as if he were in truth a Briareus. If you are
not afraid of espionage, make me your brother. What say you ?"

" I am not afraid, sir ; I believe I need watching."

" Ah, that you do !" he exclaimed with unusual emphasis.

" He can be very stern, Irene, gentle as he looks," suggested
Louisa.

" If he never found fault with me I should not need his friend
ship."

When Monday morning came, and she was abliged to return
to school, Irene reluctantly bade farewell to the new friends.
She knew that, in conformity to the unalterable regulations of

92

Grim Tartary, she could only leave the institution once a month,
and the prospect of this long interval between her visits was by
no means cheering. Harvey assisted her into the carriage.

" I shall send you some books in a day or two, and if you are
troubled about anything before I see you again, write me a note
by Louisa. I would call to see you occasionally if you were
boarding anywhere else. Good-morning, Miss Irene ; do not
forget that I am your brother so long as you stay in New York,
or need one."

The books were not forgotten ; they arrived the ensuing
week, and his selection satisfied her that he perfectly understood
what kind of aid she required. Her visit made a lasting impres
sion on her mind, and the Sabbath spent in Louisa's home often
recurred to her in after years, as the memory of some green,
sunny isle of rest haunts the dreams of weary, tempest-lashed ma
riners in a roaring sea. Maria Ashley was a sore trial of pa
tience, and occasionally, after a fruitless struggle to rise above
the temptations presented almost hourly, Irene looked longingly
toward Louisa's fireside as one turns to the last source of sup
port. Finally she took refuge in silence, and, except when com
pelled to do so, rarely commented upon anything that occurred.
The days were always busy, and when the text-books were fin
ished, she had recourse to those supplied by her new friends. At
the close of the next month, instead of accompanying Louisa
home, Irene was suffering with severe cold, and too much indis
posed to quit the house. This was a grievous disappointment,
but she bore it bravely, and went on with her studies. What a
dreary isolation in the midst of numbers of her own age. It was
a thraldom that galled her ; and more than once she implored
her father's permission to return home. His replies were positive
denials, and after a time she ceased to expect release, until the
prescribed course should be ended. Thus another month dragged
itself away. On Friday morning Louisa was absent. Irene felt
anxious and distressed ; perhaps she was ill, something must
have happened. As the day-pupils were dismissed she started
back to her own room, heart-sick because of this second disap
pointment. " After all," thought she, " I may as well accustom

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 93

myself to being alone. Of course, I can't have the Youngs al
ways. I must learn to depend on myself." She put away the
bonnet and cloak laid out in readiness for departure, and sat
down to write to her aunt Margaret. A few minutes after, a
servant knocked at the door and informed her that a gentleman
wished to see her in the parlor.

CHAPTER VIII.

" I AM so glad to see you, Mr. Young. Louisa is not sick,
I hope ?"

" I came for you in Louisa's place ; she is not well enough
to quit her room. Did you suppose that I intended leaving you
here for another month ?"

" I was rather afraid you had forgotten me ; the prospect
was gloomy ten minutes ago. It seems a long time since I was
with you."

She stood close to him, looking gladly into his face, uncon
scious of the effect of her words.

" You sent me no note all this time ; why not ?"

" I was afraid of troubling you ; and, besides, I would rather
tell you what I want you to know."

" Miss Irene, the carriage is at the door. I am a patient
man, and can wait half an hour if you have any preparation to
make."

In much less time she joined him, equipped for the ride, and
took her place beside him in the carriage. As they reached his
father's door, and he assisted her out, she saw him look at her
very searchingly.

" It is time that you had a little fresh air. You are not
quite yourself. Louisa is in her room; run up to her."

She found her friend suffering with sore throat, and was
startled at the appearance of her flushed cheeks. Mrs. Young
sat beside her, and after most cordial greetings the latter

94: MACAKIA; OK,

resigned her seat and left them, enjoining upon her daughter
the necessity of remaining quiet.

" Mother was almost afraid for you to come, hut I teazed and
coaxed for permission ; told her that even if I had the scarlet
fever you had already had it, and would run no risk. Harvey
says it is not scarlet fever at all, and he persuaded mother to
let him go after you. He always has things his own way,
though he brings it about so quietly that nobody would ever
suspect him of being self-willed. Harvey is a good friend of
your's, Irene."

" I am very glad to hear it; he is certainly very kind to me.
But recollect you are not to talk much, let me talk to you."

Mrs. Young sent up tea for both, and about nine o'clock, Mr.
Young and his son both entered. Louisa had fallen asleep
holding Irene's hand, and her father cautiously felt the pulse
and examined the countenance. The fever had abated, and
bending down, Harvey said softly :

" Can't you release your hand without waking her ?"

" I am afraid not ; have prayer without me to-night."

After the gentlemen withdrew, Mrs. Young and Irene watch
ed the sleeper till midnight, when she awoke. The following
morning found her much better, and Irene and the mother
spent the day in her room. Late in the afternoon the minister
came in and talked to his sister for some moments, then turned
to his mother.

*' Mother, I am going to take this visitor of yours down to
the library; Louisa has monopolized her long enough. Come,
Miss Irene, you shall join them again at tea."

He led the way, and she followed very willingly. Placing
her in a chair before the fire, he drew another to the rug ; and
seating himself, said just as if speaking to Louisa :

" What have you been doing these two months ? What is it
that clouds your face, my little sister ?"

" Ah, air 1 I am so weary of that school. You don't know
what a relief it is to come here."

" It is rather natural that you should feel homesick. It is a
fierce ordeal for a child like you to be thrust so far from home."

ALTAES OF SACEIFICE. 95

" I am not homesick now, I believe. I have in some degree
become accustomed to the separation from my father ; but I
am growing so different from what I used to be j so different
from what I expected. It grieves me to know that I am
changing for the worse ; but, somehow, I can't help it. I make"
good resolutions in the morning before I leave my room, and
by noon I manage to break all of them. The girls try me arid
I lose my patience. When I am at home nothing of this kind
ever troubles me. I know you think me very weak, and I dare
say I am ; still I try much harder than you think I do."

" If you never yielded to temptation you would be more than
mortal. We are all prone to err ; and, Miss Irene, did it never
occur to you, that, though you may be overcome by the evil
prompting, yet the struggle to resist strengthened you ? So
long as life lasts this conflict will be waged ; though you have
not always succeeded thus far, earnest prayer and faithful re
solve will enable you to conquer. Look to a merciful and
watchful God for assistance ; ' divine knowledge took the mea
sure of every human necessity, and divine love and power gath
ered into salvation a more than adequate provision.' Louisa
has t"ld me the nature of the trials that beset you, and that
you still strive to rise superior to them ought to encourage you.
The books which I sent were calculated to aid you in your
efforts to be gentle, forgiving, and charitable under adverse
circumstances. I use the word charity in its broad, deep, true
significance. Of all charities mere money-giving is the least ;
sympathy, kind words, gentle judgments, a friendly pressure of
weary hands, an encouraging smile, will frequently outweigh a
mint of coins. Bear this in mind, selfishness is the real root
of all the evil in the world ; people are too isolated, too much
wrapped up in their individual rights, interests, or enjoyments.
I, Me, Mine, is the God of the age. There are many noble
exceptions ; philanthropic associations abound in our cities, and
individual instances of generous self-denial now and then flash
out upon us. But we ought to live more for others than we
do. Instead of the narrow limits which restrict so many, the

96

whole family of the human race should possess our cordial sym
pathy. In proportion as we interest ourselves in promoting the
good and happiness of others our natures become elevated, en
larged ; our capacities for enjoyment are developed and increas
ed. The happiest man I ever knew was a missionary in Syria.
He had abandoned home, friends, and country; hut, in labor
ing for the weal of strangers, enjoyed a peace, a serenity, a
deep gladness, such as not the wealth of the Rothchildn could
purchase. Do not misapprehend me. All cannot be missiona
ries in the ordinary acceptation of that term. v I believe that
very few are really called to spend their lives under inclement
skies, in dreary by-corners of the earth, amid hostile tribes.
But true missionary work lies at every man's door, at every
woman's; and, my little sister, yours waits for you, staring at
you daily. 'Do the work that lies nearest to thee.} Let me
give you the rule of a profound thinker, who might have
accomplished incalculable good had he walked the narrow,
winding path which he stood afar off and pointed out to others ;
1 know that thou canst work at, and work at it like a Hercu-
lus ;' and amid the holy hills of Jerusalem, the voice of Inspi
ration exclaimed ; ' Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it
with thy might.' "

His low voice fell soothingly on her ear ; new energy kindled,
new strength was infused, as she listened, and she said hastily :

" It would be an easy matter to do all this, if I had somebody
like you always near to direct me."

" Then there would be no glory in conquering. Every soul
has trials which must be borne without any assistance, save that
which the Father mercifully bestows. Remember the sublime
words of Isaiah : ' I have trodden the wine-press alone ; and of
the people there was none with me. And I looked, and there
was none to help, and I wondered that there was none to up
hold ; therefore mine own arm brought salvation unto me.'
Miss Irene, you, too, must ' tread the wine-press alone.' "

She held her breath and looked up at him ; the solemn em
phasis of his words startled her ; they fell upon her weighty as

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 97

prophecy, adumbrating weary years of ceaseless struggling. The
firelight glowed on her sculptured features, and he saw an ex
pression of vague dread in her glance.

" Miss Irene, yours is not a clinging, dependent disposition ;
if I have rightly understood your character, you have never been
accustomed to lean upon others. After relying on yourself so
long, why yield to mistrust now ? With years should grow the
power, the determination, to do the work you find laid out for
you."

" It is precisely because I know how very poorly I have man
aged myself thus far that I have no confidence in my own pow
ers for future emergencies. Either I have lived alone too long,
or else not long enough ; I rather think the last. If they had
only suffered me to act as I wished, I should have been so much
better at home. Oh, sir ! I am not the girl I was eight months
ago. I knew how it would be when they sent me here."

Resting her chin in her hands, she gazed sadly into the grate,
and saw, amid glowing coals, the walls of the vine-clad cottage,
the gentle face of the blind woman groping her way, the melan
choly eyes of one inexpressibly dear to her.

•' We can not always live secluded, and at some period of your
life you would Have been forced to enter the world and combat
its troubles, even had you never seen New York. It is compar
atively easy for anchorites to preserve a passionless, equable tem
perament ; but to ignore the very circumstances and relations of
social existence in which God intended that we should be purified
And ennobled by trial is both sinful and cowardly."

Taking a small volume from the table, he read impressively :

" What are we set on earth, for ? Say to toil ;
Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines,
For all the heat o' the day, till it declines,
And death's mild curfew shall from work assoil.
God did anoint thee with His odorous oil,

To wrestle, not to reign so others shall

Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand,
From thy hand, and thy heart, and thy brave cheer,
And God's grace fructify through thee to all."

5

98 MACAKIA J OK,

" Some portentous cloud seems lowering over your future.
What is it ? You ought to be a gleeful girl, full of happy
hopes."

She sank farther back in her chair to escape his searching gaze,
and drooped her face lower.

" Yes, yes ; I know I ought, but one can't always shut their
eyes."

" Shut their eyes to what ?"

" Various coming troubles, Mr. Young."

His lip curled slightly, and, replacing the book on the table,
he said, as if speaking rather to himself than to her :

" The heart knowcth his own bitterness, and a stranger doth
not intermeddle with his joy."

" You are not a stranger, sir."

"I see you are disposed to consider me such. I thought I
was your brother. But no matter ; after a time all will be
well."

She looked puzzled ; and, as the tea-bell summoned them, he
merely added :

"I do not wonder. You are a shy child ; but you will soon
learn to understand me ; you will come to me with all your sor
rows."

During the remainder of this visit she saw him no more.
Louisa recovered rapidly, and when she asked for her brother on
Sabbath evening, Mrs. Young said he was to preach twice that
day. Monday morning arrived, and Irene returned to school
with a heavy heart, fearing that she had wounded him ; but a
few days after, Louisa brought her a book and brief note of kind
words. About this time she noticed in her letters from home,
allusions to her own future lot, which increased her uneasiness.
It was very palpable that her father expected her to accede to
his wishes regarding a union with her cousin ; and she knew only
too well how fierce was the contest before her. Hugh wrote
kindly, affectionately ; and if she could have divested her mind
of this apprehension, his letters would have comforted her. Thus
situated she turned to her books with redoubled zest, and her
naturally fine intellect was taxed to the utmost. Her well-earn-

AI/TARS OF SACRIFICE. 99

ed pre-eminence in her classes increased the jealousy, the dislike,
and censoriousness of her less studious companions. Months
passed ; and though she preserved a calm, impenetrable exterior,
taking no heed of sneers and constant persecution, yet the worm
gna,wed its slow way, and the plague-spot spread in that whilom
pure spirit. One Saturday morning she sat quite alone in her
small room ; the week had been specially painful, and, wearied
in soul, the girl laid her head down on her folded arms, and
thought of her home in the far South. The spicy fragrance of
orange and magnolia came to her, and Erebus and Paragon
haunted her recollection. Oh ! for one ride through the old
pine-woods. Oh ! for one look at the water-lilies bending over
the creek. Only one wretched year had passed, how could she
endure those which were to come ! A loud rap startled her from
this painful reverie, and ere she could utter the stereotyped
" come in," Louisa sprang to her side.

" I have come for you, Irene ; have obtained permission from
Dr. — for you to accompany us to the Academy of Design.
Put on your bonnet ; Harvey is waiting in the reception room.
"We shall have a charming day."

" Ah, Louisa ! you are all very kind to recollect me so con
stantly. It will give me great pleasure to go."

When they joined the minister, Irene fancied he received her
coldly, and as they walked on he took no part in the conversa
tion. The annual exhibition had just opened ; the rooms were
thronged with visitors, and the hushed tones swelled to a monot
onous hum. Some stood in groups, expatiating eagerly on cer
tain pictures ; others occupied the seats and leisurely scanned
now the paintings, now the crowd. Furnished with a catalogue,
the girls moved slowly on, while Mr. Young pointed out the
prominent beauties or defects of the works exhibited. They
made the circuit of the room, and began a second tour, when
their attention was attracted by a girl who stood in one corner,
with her hands clasped behind her. She was gazing very intent
ly on an Ecce-Homo, and, though her face was turned toward
the wall, the posture bespoke most unusual interest. She was
dressed in black, and, having removed her straw hat, the rippling

1 00 MACAEIA ; OK,

jetty hair, cut short like a boy's, glistened in the mellow light.
Irene looked at her an instant, and held her breath ; she had
seen only one other head which resembled thai — she knew the
purplish waving hair. " What is the matter ?" asked the min
ister, noting the change in her countenance. She made no an
swer, but leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the face. Just
then the black figure moved slightly ; she saw the profile, the
beautiful straight nose, the arched brow, the clear olive cheek ;
and gliding up to her she exclaimed :

" Electra ! Electra Grey 1"

The orphan turned, and they were locked in a tight embrace.

" Oh, Irie ! I am so glad to see you. I have been here so
long, and looked for you so often, that I had almost despaired.
Whenever I walk down Broadway, whenever I go out anywhere,
I look at every face, peep into every bonnet, hoping to find you.
Oh ! I am so glad."

Joy flushed the cheeks and fired the deep eyes, and people
turned from the canvas on the walls to gaze upon two faces
surpassing in beauty aught that the Academy contained.

" But what are you doing in New York, Electra ? Is Russell
with you ? How long have you been here ?"

" Since October last. Russell is at home ; no, he has no home
now. When my aunt died we separated ; I came on to study
under Mr. Clifton's care. Have you not heard of our loss ?"

" I have been able to hear nothing of you. I wrote to Dr.
Arnold, inquiring after you, but he probably never received my
letter."

" And your father ?" queried Electra proudly.

" Father told me nothing."

" Is the grave not deep enough for his hate ?"

" What do you mean ?"

" You don't probably know all that I do ; but this is no place
to discuss such matters ; sometime we will talk of it. Do come
and see me soon — soon. I must go now, I promised."

" Where do you live ? I will go home with you now."

" I am not going home immediately. Mr. Clifton's house is
No. 85 West street. Come this afternoon."

ALTAKS OF SACJUFIOE.

With a long, warm pressure of hands they parted, and Irene
stood looking after the graceful figure till it glided out of sight.

" In the name of wonder, who is that ? You two have been
the ' observed of all observers/ " ejaculated the impulsive
Louisa.

" That is my old schoolmate and friend of whom I once spoke
to you. I had no idea that she was in New York. She is a
poor orphan."

" Are you ready to return home ? This episode has evidently
driven pictures out of your head for to-day," said Mr. Young, who
had endeavored to screen her from observation.

" Yes, quite ready to go, though I have enjoyed the morning
very much indeed, thanks to your kindness."

Soon after they reached home, Louisa was called into the par
lor to see a young friend, and as Mrs. Young was absent, Irene
found it rather lonely up stairs. She thought of a new volume
of travels which she had noticed on the hall-table as they enter
ed, and started down to get it. About half-way of the flight of
steps she caught her foot in the carpeting, where one of the rods
chanced to be loose, and despite her efforts to grasp the railing
fell to the floor of the hall, crushing one arm under her. The
library-door was thrown open instantly, and the minister came
out. She lay motionless, and he bent over her.

" Irene ! where are you hurt ? Speak to me."

He raised her in his arms and placed her on the sofa in the
sitting-room. The motion produced great pain, and she groaned
and shut her eyes. A crystal vase containing some exquisite
perfume stood on his mother's work-table, and, pouring a por
tion of its contents in his palm, he bathed her forehead. Acute
suffering distorted her features, and his face grew pallid as her
own while he watched her. Taking her hand, he repeated :

" Irene, my darling ! tell me how you are hurt ?"

She looked at him, and said with some difficulty :

" My ankle pains me very much, and I believe my arm is
broken. I can't move it."

" Thank God you are not killed."

He kissed her, then turned away arid despatched a servant for

102 MALARIA; OR,

a physician. He summoned Louisa, and inquired fruitlessly for
his mother ; no one knew whither she had gone ; it would not
do to wait for her. He stood by the sofa and prepared the
necessary bandages, while his sister could only cry over and
caress the sufferer. When the physician came the white dimpled
arm was bared, and he discovered that the bone was broken.
The setting was extremely painful, but she lay with closed eyes
and firmly compressed lips, uttering no sound, giving no token of
the torture, save in the wrinkling of her forehead. They bound
the arm tightly, and then the doctor said the ankle was badly
strained and swollen, but there was, luckily, no fracture. He
gave minute directions to the minister and withdrew, praising
the patient's remarkable fortitude. Louisa would talk, and her
brother sent her off to prepare a room for her friend.

"I think I had better go back to the Institution, Mr. Young.
It will be a long time before I can walk again, and I wish you

would have me carried back. Dr. will be uneasy, and

will prefer my returning, as father left me in his charge." She
tried to rise, but sank back on the pillow.

" Hush ! hush 1 You will stay where you are, little cripple.
I am only thankful you happened to be here."

He smoothed the folds of her hair from her temples, and for
the first time played with the curls he had so often before been
tempted to touch. She looked so slight, so childish, with her
head nestled against the pillow, that he forgot she was almost
sixteen, forgot everything but the beauty of her pale nice, and
bent over her with an expression of the tenderest love. She was
suffering too much to notice his countenance, and only felt that he
was very kind and gentle. Mrs. Young came in very soon, and
heard with the deepest solicitude of what had occurred. Irene
again requested to be taken to the school, fearing that she
would cause too much trouble during her long confinement to
the house. But Mrs. Young stopped her arguments with kisses,
and would listen to no such arrangements ; she would trust to
no one but herself to nurse " the bruised Southern lily." Hav
ing seen that all was in readiness, she insisted on carrying her
guest to the room adjoining Louisa's, and opening into her own.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 103

Mr. Young had gone to Boston the day before, and, turning to
her son, she said —

" Harvey, as your father is away, you must take Irene up
stairs ; I am not strong enough. Be careful that you do not
hurt her."

She led the way, and, bending down, he whispered —

" My little sister, put this uninjured arm around my neck
there — now I shall carry yc^ as easily as if you were in a
cradle."

He held her firmly, and as he bore her up the steps the white
face lay on his bosom, and the golden hair floated against his
cheek. If she had looked at him then, she would have seen more
than he intended that any one should know ; for, young and
free from vanity though she was, it was impossible to mistake
the expression of the eyes riveted upon her. She never knew
how his great heart throbbed, nor suspected that he turned his
lips to the streaming curls. As he consigned her to his mother's
care, she held out her hand and thanked him for his great kind
ness, little dreaming of the emotions with which he held her
fingers. He very considerately offered to go at once to the
principal of the school, and acquaint him with all that had oc
curred ; and, ere long, when an anodyne had been administered,
she fell asleep, and found temporary relief. Mrs. Young wrote
immediately to Mr. Huntingdon, and explained the circumstances
which had made his daughter her guest for some weeks at least,
assuring him that he need indulge no apprehension whatever on
her account, as she would nurse her as tenderly as a mother
could. Stupefied by the opiate, Irene took little notice of what
passed, except when roused by the pain consequent upon dressing
the ankle. Louisa went to school as usual, but her mother rarely
left their guest ; and after Mr. Young's return he treated her
with all the affectionate consideration of a parent. Several days
after the occurrence of the accident Irene turned toward the
minister, who stood talking to his mother.

" Your constant kindness emboldens me to ask a favor of you,
which I think you will scarcely deny me. I am very anxious to
see the friend whom I so unexpectedly met at the Academy of

104 MACARIA ; OR,

Design ; and if he knew the circumstances that prevent my
leaving the house, I am very sure she would come to me. Here
is a card containing her address ; will you spare me the time to
bring her here to-day ? I shall be very much obliged to you."

"I think you ought to keep perfectly quiet, and see no com
pany for a few days. Can't you wait patiently ?"

" It will do me no harm to see her. I feel as if I could not
wait."

" Yery well. I will go after her aslsbon as I have fulfilled a
previous engagement. What is her name ?"

" Electra Grey. Did you notice her face ?"

" Yes ; but why do you ask ?"

" Because I think she resembles your mother."

" She resembles far more an old portrait hanging in my room.
I remarked it as soon as I saw her."

He seemed lost in thought, and immediately after left the room.
An hour later, Irene's listening ear detected the opening and
closing of the hall door.

" There is Electra on the steps ; I hear her voice. Will you
please open the door ?"

Mrs. Young laid down her work and rose to comply, but Har
vey ushered the stranger in and then retired.

The lady of the house looked at the new comer, and a startled
expression came instantly into her countenance. She made a
step forward and paused irresolute.

" Mrs. Young, allow me to introduce my friend, Miss Electra
Grey." Electra bowed, and Mrs. Young exclaimed —

" Grey ! Grey ! Electra Grey ; and so like Robert ? Oh !
it must be so. Child, who are you ? Where are your parents ?"

She approached and put her hand on the girl's shoulders, while
a hopeful light kindled in her eyes.

" I am an orphan, madam, from the South. My father died
before my birth, my mother immediately after."

" Was your father's name Robert ? Where was he from ?"

" His name was Enoch R. Grey. I don't know what his mid
dle name was. He came originally from Pennsylvania, I be
lieve."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 105

" Oh ! I knew that I could not be mistaken ! My brother's
child ! Robert's child I"

She threw her arms around the astonished girl, and strained
her to her heart.

" There must be some mistake, madam. I never heard that I
had relatives in New York."

" Oh ! child ! call me aunt ; I am your father's sister. We
called him by his middle name, Robert, and for eighteen years
have heard nothing of him. Sit down here, and let me tell you
the circumstances. Your father was the youngest of three chil
dren, and in his youth gave us great distress by his wildness ; he
ran away from college and went to sea. After an absence of
three years he returned, almost a wreck of his former self. My
mother had died during his long voyage to the South Sea Is
lands, and father, who believed him to have been the remote
cause of her death (for her health failed soon after he left), up
braided him most harshly and unwisely. His reproaches drove
poor Robert to desperation, and without giving us any clew, he
left home as suddenly as before. Whither he went we never
knew. Father was so incensed that he entirely disinherited him ;
but at his death, when the estate was divided, my brother Wil
liam and I decided that we would take only what we considered
our proportion, and we set apart one-third for Robert. We ad
vertised for several years, and could hear nothing of him ; and,
at the end of the fifth year, William divided that remaining third.
We knew that he must have died, and I have passed many a
sleepless night weeping over his wretched lot, mourning that no
kind words reached him from us ; that no monumental stone
marked his unknown grave. Oh, my dear child ! I am so glad
to find you out. But where have you been all this time ? Where
did Robert die ?"

She held the orphan's hand, and made no attempt to conceal
the tears that rolled over her cheeks. Electra gave her a de
tailed account of her life from the time when she. was taken to
her uncle, Mr. Aubrey, at the age of four months, till the death
of her aunt and her removal to New York.

" And Robert's child has been in want, while we knew not of

106 MACARIA ; OR,

her existence I Oh, Electra ! you shall have no more sorrow
that we can shield you from. I loved your father very devoted
ly, and I shall love his orphan quite as dearly. Come to me, let
me be your mother. Let me repair the wrong of by-gone years."

She folded her arms around the graceful young form and sob
bed aloud, while Irene found it difficult to repress her own tears
of sympathy and joy that her friend had found such relatives.
Of the three, Electra was calmest. Though glad to meet witli
her father's family, she knew better than they that this circum
stance could make little alteration in her life, and therefore, when
Mrs. Young had left the room to acquaint her husband and son
with the discovery she had made, Electra sat down beside her
friend's sofa just as she would have done two hours before.

" I am so glad for your sake that you are to come and live
here. Until you know them all as well as I do, you can not pro
perly appreciate your good fortune," said Irene, raising herself
on her elbow.

"Yes, I am very glad to meet my aunt," returned Electra,
evasively, and then she added earnestly :

" But I rather think that I am gladder still to see you again.
Oh, Irene ! it seems an age since I came to this city. We have
both changed a good deal ; you look graver than when we part
ed that spring morning that you took me to see the painter. I
owe even his acquaintance to your kindness."

" Tell me of all that happened after I left home. You know
that I have heard nothing."

The orphan narrated the circumstances connected with her
aunt's last illness and death ; the wretchedness that came upon
her and Russell ; the necessity of their separation.

" And where is Russell now ?"

" At home — that is, still with Mr. Campbell, who has proved
a kind friend. Russell writes once a week : he seems tolerably
cheerful, and speaks confidently of his future as a lawyer. He
studies very hard, and I know that he will succeed."

" Your cousin is very ambitious. I wish he could have had a
good education."

" It will be all the same in the end. He will educate himself

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 107

thoroughly ; he needs nobody's assistance," answered Electra
with a proud smile.

" When you write to him again don't forget to tender him my
remembrances and best wishes."

" Thank you."

A slight change came over the orphan's countenance, and her
companion noted without understanding it.

" Electra, you spoke of my father the other day in a way that
puzzled me, and I wish, if you please, you would tell me what
you meant."

"I don't know that I ought to talk about things that should
have been buried before you were born. But you probably
know something of what happened. We found out after you
left why you were so suddenly sent off to boarding-school, and
you can have no idea how much my poor aunt was distressed at
the thought of having caused your banishment. Irene, your fa
ther hated her, and of course you know it ; but do you know
why ?"

" No ; I never could imagine any adequate cause."

" Well, I can tell you. Before aunt Amy's marriage your
father loved her, and to please her parents she accepted him.
She was miserable, because she was very much attached to my
uncle, and asked Mr. Huntingdon to release her from the en
gagement. He declined, and finding that her parents sided with
him she left home and married against their wishes. They
adopted a distant relative, and never gave her a cent. Your fa
ther never forgave her. He had great influence with the gover
nor, and she went to him and entreated him to aid her in pro
curing a pardon for her husband. He repulsed her cruelly, and
used his influence against my uncle. She afterward saw a letter
which he wrote to the governor, urging him to withhold a par
don. Oh, Irene ! if you could have seen Russell when he found
out all this. Now you have the key to his hatred ; now you
understand why he wrote you nothing concerning us. Not even
aunt Amy's coffin could shut in his hate."

She rose, and walking to the window, pressed her face against
the panes to cool her burning cheeks.

108 MAC ARIA ; OK,

Irene had put her hand over her eyes, and a fearful panorama
of coming years rolled before her in that brief moment. She
saw with miserable distinctness the parallelism between Mrs. Au
brey's father and her own, and, sick at heart, she moaned, con
templating her lot. A feeling of remorseful compassion touched
the orphan as she heard the smothered sound, and, resuming her
seat, she said gently :

" Do not be distressed, Irene ; ' let the dead past bury its
dead ;' it is all over now, and no more harm can come of it. I
shall be sorry that I told you if you let it trouble you."

Irene knew too well that it was not over ; that it was but the
beginning of harm to her ; but she repressed her emotion, and
changed the subject by inquiring how Electra progressed with
her painting.

" Even better than I hoped. Mr. Clifton is an admirable
master, and does all that he can to aid me. I shall succeed,
Irene ; I know, I feel that I shall, and it is a, great joy to me."

" I am very glad to hear it ; but now you will have no need to
labor, as you once expected to do. You are looking much bet
ter than I ever saw you, and have grown taller. You are nearly
sixteen, I believe ?"

" Yes, sixteen. I am three months your senior. Irene, I
must go home now, for they will wonder what has become of
me. I will see you again soon."

She was detained by her aunt, and presented to the remainder
of the family, and it was arranged that Mr. and Mrs. Young
should visit her the ensuing day. While they talked over the
tea-table of the newly-found, Harvey went slowly up stairs and
knocked at Irene's door. Louisa was chattering delightedly
about her cousin, and, sending her down to her tea, he took
her seat beside the sofa. Irene lay with her fingers over her
eyes, and he said gently —

" You see that I am wiser tha-n you, Irene. I knew that it
would do you no good to have company. Next time be ad
vised."

" It was not Electra that harmed me."

" Then you admit that you have been harmed ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 109

" No ; I am low-spirited to-night ; I believe that is all.'7
" You have not studied dialectics yet. People are not low-
spirited without a cause ; tell me what troubles you."
She turned her face to the wall, and answered —
" Oh ! there is nothing which I can tell you, sir."
" Irene; why do you distrust me ?"

" I do not ; indeed I do not. You must not believe that for
one moment."

" You are distressed, and yet will not confide in me."
" It is something which I ought not to tell even my friend, my
brother.'7

" You are sure that it is something I could not remedy ?"
"Yes, sir ; perfectly sure."
" Then try to forget it, and let me read to you."
He opened the " Rambler," of which she was particularly
fond, and began to read. For a while she listened, and in her
interest forgot her forebodings, but after a time her long silky
lashes swept her cheeks, and she slept. The minister laid down
the volume and watched the pure girlish face ; noted all its
witching loveliness, and thought of the homage which it would
win her in coming years. A few more fleeting months, and she
would reign the undisputed queen of society. Wealth, intellect,
manly beauty, all would bow before her ; and she was a woman ;
would doubtless love and marry, like the majority of women. He
set this fact before him and looked it in the face, but it would
not answer ; he could not realize that she would ever be other
than the trusting, noble-hearted, beautiful child which she was
to him. He knew as he sat watching her slumber that he loved
her above everything on earth ; that she wielded a power none
had ever possessed before — that his heart was indissolubly linked
with hers. He had wrestled with this infatuation, had stationed
himself on the platform of common sense, and railed at and ridi
culed this piece of folly. His clear, cool reason gave solemn ver
dict against the fiercely-throbbing heart, but not one pulsation
had been restrained. At his age, with his profession and long-
laid plans, this was arrant madness, and he admitted it ; but tke
long down-trodden feelings of his heart, having gained momen-

110 MAC ART A ; OR,

tary freedom, exultingly ran riot and refused to be reined in,
He might just as well have laid his palm on the whitened crest
of surging billows in stormy, tropical seas, and bid them sink
softly down to their coral pavements. Human passions, hatred,
ambition, revenge, love, are despots ; and the minister, who for
thirty years had struggled for mastery over these, now found
himself a slave. He had studied Irene's countenance too well
not to know that a shadow rested on it now ; and it grieved and
perplexed him that she should conceal this trouble from him. As
he sat looking down at her, a mighty barrier rose between them.
His future had long been determined — duty called him to the
rude huts of the far West ; thither pointed the finger of destiny,
and thither, at all hazards, he would go. He thought that he
had habituated himself to sacrifices, but the spirit of self-abne
gation was scarcely equal to this trial. Reason taught him that
the tenderly-nurtured child of southern climes would never suit
him for a companion in the pioneer life which he had marked
out. Of course, he must leave her ; hundreds of miles would in
tervene ; his memory would fade from her mind, and for him it
only remained to bury her image in the prairies of his new home.
He folded his arms tightly over his chest, and resolved to go
promptly.

The gas-light flashed on Irene's hair as it hnng over the side
of the sofa : he stooped, and pressed his lips to the floating
curls, and went down to the library, smiling grimly at his own
folly. Without delay he wrote two letters, and was dating a third,
when his mother came in. Placing a chair for her, he laid down
his pen.

" I am glad to see you, mother ; I want to have a talk with
you."

" About what, Harvey ?" — an anxious look settled on her
face.

" About my leaving you, and going West. I have decided to
start next week."

" Oh, my son ! how can you bring such grief upon me ?
Surely there is work enough for you to do here, without your
tearing yourself from us."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. Ill

" Yes, Another, work enough, but hands enough also, without
mine. These are the sunny slopes of the Vineyard, and laborers
crowd to till them ; but there are cold, shadowy, barren nooks
and corners, that equally demand cultivation. There the lines
have fallen to me, and there I go to my work. Nay, mother !
don't weep, don't heighten, by your entreaties and remonstran
ces, the barriers to my departure. It is peculiarly the province
of such as I to set forth for this field of operations ; men who
have wives and children have no right to subject them to the
privations and hardships of pioneer life. But I am alone — shall
always be so — and this call I feel to be imperative. You know
that I have dedicated myself to the ministry, and whatever I
firmly believe to be my duty to the holy cause I have espoused,
that I must do, even though it separate me from my mother.
It is a severe ordeal to me- — you will probably never know how
severe ; but we who profess to yield up all things for Christ must
not shrink from sacrifice. I shall come back now and then, and
letters are a blessed medium of communication and consolation.
I have delayed my departure too long already."

" Oh, Harvey ! have you fully determined on this step ?"
" Yes, my dear mother, fully determined to go."
" It is very hard for me to give up my only son. I can't say
that I will reconcile myself to this separation ; but you are old
enough to decide your own future ; and I suppose I ought not
to urge you. For months I have opposed your resolution, now
I will not longer remonstrate. Oh, Harvey ! it makes my heart
ache to part with you. If you were married, I should be better
satisfied ; but to think of you in your loneliness 1" She laid her
head on his shoulder, and wept.

The minister compressed his lips firmly an instant, then
replied —

" I always told you that I should never marry. I shall be
too constantly occupied to sit down and feel lonely. Now,
mother, I must finish my letters, if you please, for they should go
by the earliest mail."

112 MAC ART A I OK.

CHAPTER IX.

THE artist stood at the window watching for his pupiPs
return; it was the late afternoon hour, which they were wont
to spend in reading, and her absence annoyed him. As he
rested carelessly against the window, his graceful form was dis
played to great advantage, and the long brown hair drooped
about a classical face of almost feminine beauty. The delicacy
of his features was enhanced by the extreme pallor of his com
plexion, and it was apparent that close application to his pro
fession had made sad inroads on a constitution never very
robust. A certain listlessness of manner, a sort of lazy-grace
seemed characteristic ; but when his pupil came in and laid
aside her bonnet, the expression of ennui vanished, and he threw
himself on a sofa looking infinitely relieved. She drew near,
and without hesitation acquainted him with the discovery of
her relatives in New York. He listened in painful surprise,
and, ere she had concluded, sprang up. " I understand ! they
will want to take yon ; will urge you to share their home 'of
wealth. But, Electra, you won't leave me ; surely you won't
leave me ?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, and she knew from his
quick, irregular breathing, that the thought of separation greatly
distressed him.

c* My aunt has not explicitly invited me to reside with her,
though I inferred from her manner that she confidently expected
me to do so. Irene also spoke of it as a settled matter."

" You will not allow me to persuade you ? Oh, child I tell
me at once you will never leave me."

" Mr. Clifton, we must part some day ; I cannot always live
here, you know. Before very long I must go out and earn my
bread."

" Never i while I live. When I offered you a home, I ex
pected it to be a permanent one. I intended to adopt you.
Here, if you choose, you may work and earn a reputation ; but

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 113

away from me, among strangers, never. Electra, you forget ;
you gave yourself to me once.''

She shuddered, and tried to release herself, but the hands
were relentless in their grasp.

" Electra, you belong to me, my child. Whom have I to
love but you, my dear pupil ? What should I do without you ?"

" I have no intention of living with my aunt ; I desire to be
under obligations to no one but yourself. But I am very proud,
and even temporary dependence on you galls me. You are, I
believe, the best friend I have on earth, and until I can support
myself I will remain under your care ; longer than that it would
be impossible. I am bound to you, my generous, kind master,
as to no one else."

" This does not satisfy me ; the thought that you will leave
me at even a distant day, will haunt me continually — marring
all my joy. It can not be, Electra ! You gave yourself to me
once, and I claim you."

She looked into his eyes, and, with a woman's quick percep
tion, read all the truth.

In an instant her countenance changed painfully ; she stoop
ed, touched his hand with her lips, and exclaimed :

" Thank you, a thousand times, my friend, my father ! for
your interest in, and your unvarying, unparalleled kindness to
me. All the gratitude and affection which a child could give
to a parent I shall always cherish toward you. Since it annoys
you, we will say no more about the future : let the years take
care of themselves as they come."

" Will you promise me positively that you will not go to
your aunt ?"

" Yes ; I have never seriously entertained the thought."

She escaped from his hands, and, lighting the gas, applied
herself to her books for the next hour.

If Irene found the restraint of boarding-school irksome, the
separation from Russell was well nigh intolerable to Electra.
At first she had seemed plunged in lethargy ; but after a time
this mood gave place to restless, unceasing activity. Like one
trying to flee from something painful, she rushed daily to her

114 MACAEIA; OR,

work, and regretted when the hours of darkness consigned her
to reflection. Mrs. Clifton was quite aged, and though uni
formly gentle and affectionate toward the orphan, there was
no common ground of congeniality on which they could meet.
To a proud, exacting nature like Electra's, Mr. Clifton's constant
manifestations of love and sympathy were very soothing. Writh
ing under the consciousness of her cousin's indifference, she turn
ed eagerly to receive the tokens of affection showered upon her.
She knew that his happiness centered in her, and vainly fancied
that she could feed her hungry heart with his adoration. But
by degrees she realized that these husks would not satisfy her ;
and a singular sensation of mingled gratitude and impatience
arose whenever he caressed her. In his house her fine intellect
found ample range ; an extensive library wooed her when not
engaged with her pencil, and with eager curiosity she plunged in
to various departments of study. As might easily have been pre
dicted, from the idealistic tendency of her entire mental confer?
mation, she early selected the imaginative realm as peculiarly her
own. Over moth-eaten volumes of mythologic lore she pored con
tinually ; effete theogonies and cosmogonies siezed upon her
fancy, and peopled all space with the gods and heroes of most
ancient days. She lived among weird phantasmagoric creations
of Sagus and Puranas, and roamed from Asgard to Kinkadulle,
having little sympathy or care for the realities that sur
rounded her. Mr. Clifton's associates were principally artists,
and the conversations to which she listened tended to increase
her enthusiasm for the profession she had chosen. She had no
female companion, except Mrs. Clifton, and little leisure to dis
cuss the topics which ordinarily engage girls of her age. The
warm gushings of her heart were driven back to their springs,
and locked from human gaze ; yet she sometimes felt her isola
tion almost intolerable. To escape from herself, she was goaded
into feverish activity, and, toiling to-day, shut her eyes to the
to-morrow.

She counted the days between Russell's letters ; when they
arrived, snatched them with trembling fingers, and hastened to
her own room to devour them Once read and folded away,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 115

this thought fell with leaden weight upon her heart : " There is
so little in this letter, and now I must wait another long week
for the next." He never surmised half her wretchedness, for she
proudly concealed her discontent, and wrote as if happy and hope
ful. The shell of her reserve was beautifully polished and paint
ed, and it never occurred to him that it enclosed dark cells, where
only wailiugs echoed. In figure, she was decidedly petit, but
faultlessly symmetrical and graceful ; and the piquant beauty
of her face won her the admiration of those who frequented the
studio.

Among the artists especially, she was a well established pet,
privileged to inspect their work whenever she felt disposed, and
always warmly welcomed. They encouraged her in her work,
stimulated her by no means dormant ambition, and predicted a
brilliant and successful career. Mrs. Clifton was a rigid Roman
Catholic, her son a free-thinker, in the broadest significance of
the term, if one might judge from the selections that adorned his
library shelves. But deep in his soul was the germination of a
mystical creed, which gradually unfolded itself to Electra. The
simple yet sublime faith of her aunt rapidly faded from the girl's
heart ; she turned from its severe simplicity to the gorgeous ac
cessories of other systems. The pomp of ceremonial, the bewil
dering adjuncts of another creed, wooed her overweening, ex
cited fancy. Of doctrine she knew little, and cared less ; the
bare walls and quiet service of the old church at home had for
her no attraction : she revelled in dim cathedral light, among
mellow, ancient pictures, where pale wreaths of incense curled,
and solemn organ tones whispered through marble aisles. She
would sit with folded arms, watching the forms of devotees glide
in and out, and prostrate themselves before the images on the
gilt altar ; and fancy wafted her, at such times, to the dead ages
of imperial Greece, when devout hearts bore offerings to Delphi,
Delos, Dodona, and Eleusis. An arch-idolatress she would have
been in the ancient days of her Mycenaean namesake — a priestess
of Demeter or Artemis. At all hazards this dainty fancy must
be pampered, and she gleaned aliment from every source that
could possibly yield it, fostering a despotic tendency which soon

116 MAC ART A ; OR,

towered above every other element of her being. The first
glimpse of her teacher's Swedenborgian faith was sufficient to
rivet her attention. She watched the expansion of his theories,
and essayed to follow the profound trains of argumentation, based
on physical analogies and correspondences, which led him so irre
sistibly to his conclusions. But dialectics formed no portion of
her intellectual heritage, and her imagination, seizing, by a kind
of secret affinity, the spiritualistic elements of the system, turned
with loathing from the granite-like, scientific fundamentals. Irene
would have gone down among the mortar and bricks, measuring
the foundations, but Electra gazed upon the exquisite acanthus
wreathings of the ornate capitals, the glowing frescoes of the
mighty nave, and here was contest to rest. Mr. Clifton never
attempted to restrain her movements or oppose her inclinations ;
like a bee she roved ceaselessly from book to book, seeking
honey, and, without the safeguard of its unerring instinct, she
frequently gathered poison from lovely chalices. Ah, Amy
Aubrey ! it was an evil day for your orphan charge, when Atro-
pos cut the tangled thread of your life, and you left her to fol
low the dictates of her stormy temperament. Yet otherwise,
nature could never have fully woven the pattern ; it would have
been but a blurred, imperfect design. It was late at night when
Electra retired to her room, and sat down to collect her thoughts
after the unexpected occurrences of the day.

More than one discovery had been made since the sunrise,
which she awoke so early to study. She had found relatives, and
an opportunity of living luxuriously ; but, in the midst of this
beautiful bouquet of surprises, a serpent's head peered out at her.
Once before, she thought she had caught sight of its writhing
folds, but it vanished too instantaneously to furnish disquiet.
Now its glittering eyes held her spell-bound ; like the Pentagram
in Faust, it kept her in " durance vile." She would fain have
shut her eyes, had it been possible. Mr. Clifton loved her ; not
as a teacher his pupil, not as guardian loves ward, not as parent
loves child. Perhaps he had not intended that she should know
it so soon, but his eyes had betrayed the secret. She saw per
fectly how matters stood. This, then, had prompted him, from

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 117"

the first, to render her assistance ; he had resolved to make her
his wife ; nothing less would content him. She twisted her
white fingers in her hair, and gazed vacantly down on the car
pet, and gradually the rich crimson blood sank out of her face.
She held his life in the hollow of her hand, and this she well
knew ; death hung over him like the sword of Damocles ; she had
been told that any violent agitation or grief would bring on the
hemorrhage which he so much dreaded, and although he seemed
stronger and better than usual, the insidious nature of his dis
ease gave her little hope that he would ever be robust. To feign
ignorance of his real feelings for her, would prove but a tempo
rary stratagem ; the time must inevitably come, before long,
when he would put aside this veil and set the truth before her.
How should she meet it — how should she evade him ? Accept
the home which Mrs. Young would offer her, and leave him to
suffer briefly, to sink swiftly into the tomb ? No ; her father's
family had cast him most unjustly off, withholding his patrimony ;
and now she scorned to receive one cent of the money which his
father was unwilling that he should enjoy. Beside, who loved
her as well as Henry Clifton ? She owed more to him than to
any living being ; it would be the part of an ingrate to leave
him ; it was cowardly to shrink from repaying the debt. But
the thought of being his wife froze her blood, and heavy drops
gathered on her brow as she endeavored to reflect upon this pos
sibility.

A feeling of unconquerable repulsion sprang up in her heart,
nerving, steeling her against his affection. With a strange in
stantaneous reaction, she thought with loathing of his words of
endearment. How could she endure them in future, yet how re
ject without wounding him ? One, and only one, path of escape
presented itself — a path of measureless joy. She lifted her
hands, and murmured :

" Russell ! Russell ! save me from this."

When Mr. and Mrs. Young visited the studio the following
day, and urged the orphan's removal to their house, she gently
but resolutely declined their generous offer, expressing an affec
tionate gratitude toward her teacher, and a determination not

118 MAC ART A ; OR,

to leave him, at least for the present. Mrs. Young was much
distressed, and adduced every argument of which she was mis
tress, but her niece remained firm ; and finding their entreaties
fruitless, Mr. Young said that he would immediately take the
necessary steps to secure Robert Grey's portion of the estate to
his daughter. Electra sat with her hand nestled in her aunt's,
but when this matter was alluded to she rose, and said proudly :

" No, sir ; let the estate remain just as it is. I will never ac
cept one cent. My grandfather on his death-bed excluded my
father from any portion of it, and since he willed it so, even so
it shall be. I have no legal claim to a dollar, and I will never
receive one from your generosity. It was tthe will of the dead
that you and my uncle, William, should inherit the whole, and
as far as I am concerned, have it you shall. I am poor, I know ;
so were my parents ; poverty they bequeathed as my birthright,
and even as they lived without aid from my grandfather, so will
I. It is very noble and generous in you, after the expiration of
nearly twenty years, to be willing to divide with the orphan of
the outcast ; but I will not, can not, allow you to do so. I
fully appreciate and most cordially thank you both for your
goodness-; but I am young and strong, and I expect to earn my
living. Mr. Clifton and his mother want me to remain in his
house until I finish my studies, and I gratefully accept his kind
oifer. Nay, aunt ! don't let it trouble you so ; I shall visit you
very frequently."

11 She has all of Robert's fierce obstinacy. I see it in her
eyes, hear it ringing in the tones of her voice. Take care, child !
it "named your father," said Mrs. Young, sorrowfully.

" You should remember, Electra, that an orphan girl needs
a protector ; such I would fain prove myself."

As Mr. Young spoke, he took one of her hands and drew her
to him. She turned quickly and laid the other on the artist's
arm.

" I have one here, sir ; a protector as true and kind as my
own father could be."

She understood the flash of his eyes and his proud smile as he
assured her relatives that he would guard her from harm and

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 119

want so long as he lived, or as she remained under his care. She
knew he regarded this as a tacit sealing of the old compact, and
she had no inclination to undeceive him at this juncture.

Urging her to visit them as often as possible, and extending
the invitation to Mr. Clifton, the Youngs withdrew, evidently
much disappointed ; and, as the door closed behind them, Elec-
tra felt that the circle of doom, was narrowing around her. Mr.
Clifton approached her, but averting her head she lifted the
damask curtain that divided the parlor from the studio and effect
ed her retreat, dreading to meet his glance — putting off the evil
day as long as possible — trying to trample the serpent that
trailed after her from that hour.

CHAPTER X.

" You are better, to-day, mother tells me."

41 Yes, thank you, my foot is much better. You have not
been up to see me for two days."

Irene sat in an easy chair by the open window, and the min
ister took a seat near her.

" I have not forgotten you in the interim, however." As he
spoke he laid a bouquet of choice flowers in her lap. She bent
over them with eager delight, and held out one hand, saying :

" Oh, thank you ; how very kind you are. These remind me
of the green-house at home ; they are the most beautiful I have
seen in New York."

" Irene, the man or woman who is impervious to the subtle, spirit
ualizing influence of flowers, may feel assured that there is some
thing lamentably amiss in either his or her organization or habits
of life. They weave rosy links of associations more binding than
steel, and sometimes of incalculable value. Amid the awful soli
tude of Alpine glaciers, I recollect the thrill of pleasure which
the blue gentians caused me, as I noted the fragile petals shud
dering upon the very verge of fields of eternal snow j and among

120 MACAKTA ; OJJ,

the cherished memories of the far East are its acacias and rhodo
dendrons ; the scarlet poppies waving like a ' mantle of blood'
over Syrian valleys, and the oleanders fringing the grey, gloomy
crags and breathing their exquisite fragrance over the silent deso
lation of that grand city of rock — immemorial Petra. I have
remarked your fondness for flowers ; cultivate it always ; they
are evangels of purity and faith, if we but unlock our hearts to
their ministry. Callous and sordid indeed must be that soul who
fails in grateful appreciation of gifts designed especially to pro
mote the happiness and adorn the dwellings of our race ; for in
attestation of this truth, stand the huge, hoary tomes of geology,
proving that the pre-Adamic ages were comparatively barren of
the gorgeous flowers which tapestried the earth so munificently
just ere man made his appearances on the stage. A reverent
student of the rocks, who spent his life in listening to the solemn,
oracular whispers of their grand granite lips, that moved, Mem-
non-like, as he flashed the light of Revelation upon them, tells us :
' The poet accepted the bee as a sign of high significance : the
geologist, also, accepts her as a sign. Her entombed remains tes
tify to the gradual fitting up of our earth as a place of habitation
for a creature destined to seek delight for the mind and eye as
certainly as for the grosser senses, and in especial mark the intro
duction of stately forest trees, and the arrival of the delicious flow
ers/ A profound thinker and eloquent writer, who is now doing a
noble work for his generation by pointing it to unstained sources
of happiness, has said of flowers : ' They are chalices of Divine
workmanship — of purple, and scarlet, and liquid gold — from
which man is to drink the pure joy of beauty.7 There is, you
know, a graduated scale of missionary work for all created
things ; man labors for God and his race through deep, often
tortuous channels, and nature, all animate and inanimate nature,
ministers in feebler yet still heaven-appointed processes. The
trouble is, that, in the rush and din and whirl of life, we will not
pause to note these sermons ; and from year to year the whis
pered precepts of faith, hope, and charity fall on deaf ears. Na
ture is so prodigal of refining, elevating influences, and man is so
inaccessible in his isolating, inflated egotism."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 121

He paused, and busied himself in cutting the leaves of a new
book, while Irene looked into lais calm, noble face, pondering
his words; then her eyes went back to the bouquet, and his
dwelt once more upon her.

" Irene, you look sober to-day ; come, cheer up. I don't
want to carry that grave expression away with me. I want to
remember your face as I first saw it, unshadowed."

" What do you mean ? Are you going to leave home ?"

" Yes ; day after to-morrow I, bid farewell to New York for
a long time. I am going to the West to take charge of a
church."

" Oh, Mr. Young I surely you are not in earnest ? You can
not intend to separate yourself from your family ?"

She dropped her flowers, and leaned forward.

" Yes, I have had it in contemplation for more than a year,
and, recently, I have decided to remove at once."

He saw the great sorrow written in her countenance, the
quick flutter of her lip, the.large drops that dimmed the violet
eyes and gathered on the long golden lashes, and far sweeter
than the Eolian harps was the broken voice :

" What shall I do without you ? who will encourage and
advise me when you go ?"

She leaned her forehead on her hands, and a tear slid down
and rested on her chin. The sun was setting, and the crimson
light flooding the room bathed her with glory, spreading a halo
around her. He held his breath and gazed upon the drooping
figure and bewitching face ; and, in after years, when his dark
hair had grown silvery gray, he remembered the lovely sun-lit
vision that so entranced him, leaving an indelible image on
heart and brain. He gently removed the hands, and holding
them in his said, in the measured, low tone so indicative of
suppressed emotion :

" Irene, my friend, you attach too much importance to the
aid which I might render you. You know your duty, and I
feel assured will not require to be reminded of it. Henceforth
our paths diverge widely. I go to a distant section of our land,
there to do my Father's work ; and, ere long, having completed

6

122

the prescribed course, you will return to your Southern home
and take the position assigned you in society. Thus, in all
human probability, we shall meet no more, for "

" Oh, sir ! don't say that ; you will come back to visit your
family, and then I shall see you."

" That is scarcely probable, but we will not discuss it now.
There is, however, a channel of communication for separated
friends, and of this we must avail ourselves. I shall write to
you from western wilds, and Jitters from you will most plea
santly ripple the monotonous life I expect to lead. This is the
last opportunity I shall have to speak with you ; let me do so
freely, just as I would to Louisa. You are young, and rather
peculiarly situated ; and sometimes I fear that, in the great
social vortex awaiting you, constant temptation and. frivolous
associations will stifle the noble impulses nature gave to guide
you. As you grow older you will more fully comprehend my
meaning, and find that there are social problems which every
true-hearted man and woman should earnestly strive to solve.
These will gradually unfold themselves as the web of time
unravels before you. You will occupy an elevated sland-point
of view, and you must take care that, unlike the great mass of
mankind, you do not grow callous, turning a deaf ear to the
cry c the laborers are few.* It is not woman's place to obtrude
herself in the pulpit, or harangue from the rostrum \ such an
abnormal course levels the distinctions which an all-wise God
established between the sexes, but the aggregate of her useful
ness is often greater than man's. Irene, I want you to wield
the vast influence your Maker has given you nobly and for His
glory. Let your unobtrusive yet consistent, resolute, unerring
conduct leave its impress for good wherever you are known. I
would not have you debar yourself from a single avenue of
pure enjoyment; far from it. Monkish asceticism and puri
tanic bigotry I abhor ; but' there is a happy medium between
the wild excesses of so-called fashionable life and the strait-
laced rigidity of narrow-minded phariseeism; and this I would
earnestly entreat you to select. To discover and adhere to
this medium path is almost as difficult as to skip across the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 123

Arabic Al-Sirat, of which we read last week. Ultraism is the
curse of our race, as exemplified in all departments of society ;
avoid it, dear child; cultivate enlarged views of life, suppress
selfishness, and' remember that charity is the key- stone of
Christianity."

" I have not the strength which you impute to me."

" Then seek it from the Everlasting source."

" I do, but God does not hear me."

" You are too easily disheartened ; strive to be faithful and
He will aid you, brace you, uphold you. Will it be any comfort
for you to know that I remember you in my prayers, that I con
stantly bear your name on my lips to the throne of grace ?"

"Oh, yes ! very great comfort. Thank you, thank you ; will
you always pray for me ? If I thought so it would make me
happier."

" Then rest assured that I always shall ; and, Irene, when
sorrows come upon you, for come they must to all, do not for
get that you have at least one firm, faithful friend, waiting and
anxious to aid you by every means in his power."

Disengaging her fingers, which still clasped his tightly, he mov
ed his chair backward and took a small blank book from his
pocket, saying :

" You once asked me to give you a catalogue of those works
which I thought it advisable for you to study, before you plung
ed into miscellaneous reading. Such a list you will find here,
and my experience has enabled me to classify them so as to save
you some of the trouble which I had at your age. In examin
ing it, you will see that I have given prominence to the so-called
1 Natural Sciences.7 As these furnish data for almost all branches
of investigation now-a-day (there being a growing tendency to
argue from the analogy of physics), you cannot too thoroughly
acquaint yourself with all that appertains to the subject. The
writings of Humboldt, Hugh Miller, Cuvier and Agassiz consti
tute a thesaurus of scientific information essential to a correct
appreciation of the questions now agitating the thinking world ;
and as you proceed you will find the wonderful harmony of crea
tion unfolding itself, proclaiming, in unmistakable accents, that

124 MACARIA; OR,

the works of G od ' are good.' As time rolls on, the great truth
looms up colossal, ' Science and Christianity are hand-maids, not
antagonists.' Irene, remember :

' A pagan kissing for a step of Pan,
The wild goat's hoof-print on the loamy down,
Exceeds our modern thinker who turns back
The strata — granite, limestone, coal, and clay,
Concluding coldly with ' Here's law ! where 's God?' "

" Can't you stay longer and talk to me ?" said Irene, as he
gave the blank book to her and rose.

" No ; I promised to address the Street Sabbath-school

children to-night, and must look over my notes before I go.'J
He glanced at his watch, smiled pleasantly, and left her.

The following day was dreary to all in that dwelling : Mrs.
Young went from room to room, collecting various articles be
longing to her son, making no efforts to conceal the tears that
rolled constantly over her cheeks ; and now and then Louisa's
sobs broke the sad silence. Harvey was engaged in the library
packing his books, and Irene saw him no more till after tea.
Then he came up with his mother, and kindly inquired concern
ing her arm. He saw that she shared the distress of the family,
and, glancing over his shoulder at his mother, he said, laugh
ingly :

" She looks too doleful to be left here alone all the evening.
Can't we contrive to take her down stairs to the sitting-room ?
What think you, mother ?"

" Let her decide it herself. Shall Harvey take you down, my
dear ? It is his last evening at home, you know." Her voice
faltered as she spoke.

" I should like to join you all at prayer once more, and I think
I could walk down slowly, with a little help. Suppose you let
me try ; I walked a few steps yesterday, by pushing a chair be
fore me."

" Be very careful not to strain your foot." She wrapped o-
light shawl around the girl's shoulders, and leaning on the minis
ter's arm, she limped to the head of the stairs ; but he saw, from

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 125

the wrinkle on her forehead, that the effort gave her pain, and
taking her in his arms as it' she were an infant, he replaced her
in the chair.

" I see it will not do to carry you down yet. You are not
strong enough, and beside, you ought to be asleep. Irene, would
you like for me to read and pray with you before I say good
by r

" Yes, sir ; it would give me great pleasure."

Mrs. Young drew the candle-stand and Bible from its comer
and taking a seat near the arm chair, Harvey turned over the
leaves and slowly read the sixty-third and sixty-fourth chapters of
Isaiah. His voice was low and sweet as a woman's, and the calm,
lofty brow on which the light gleamed was smooth and ^air as a
child's, bearing no foot-prints of the thirty years that had crept
over it. When the reading was concluded, he knelt and prayed
fervently for the girl who sat with her face hidden in her arms ;
prayed that she might be guided by the Almighty hand into
paths of peace and usefulness ; that she might be strengthened
to do the work required of her. There was no unsteadiness iu
his tone, no trace of emotion, when he ended his prayer and stood
up before her. Irene was deeply moved, and when she essayed
to thank him, found it impossible to pronounce her words. Tears
were gliding down her cheeks ; he put back the hair, and taking
the face softly in his palms, looked long and earnestly at its fas
cinating beauty. The great, glistening blue eyes gazed into his,
and the silky lashes and rich scarlet lips trembled. He felt the
hot blood surging like a lava-tide in his veins, and his heart ris
ing in fierce rebellion at the stern interdict which he saw fit to
lay upon it ; but no token of all this came to the cool, calm sur
face.

" Good-by, Irene. May God bless you, my dear little friend! "

He drew the face close to his own as though he would have
kissed her, but forbore, and merely raising her hands to his lips,
turned and left the room. Verily, greater is " he that ruleth his
own spirit than he that taketh a city." He left before breakfast
the ensuing morning, bearing his secret with him, having given
no intimation, by word or look, of the struggle which his resolu-

126

tion cost him. Once his mother had fancied that he felt more
than a friendly interest in their guest, but the absolute repose of
his countenance and grave serenity of his manner during the last
week of his stay dispersed all her suspicions. From a luxurious
home, fond friends, and the girlish face he loved better than his
life, the minister went forth to his distant post, offering in sacri
fice to God, upon the altar of duty, his throbbing heart and
hopes of earthly happiness.

A cloud of sadness settled on the household after his departure,
and scarcely less than Louisa's was Irene's silent grief. The
confinement grew doubly irksome when his voice and step had
passed from the threshold, and she looked forward impatiently to
her release. The sprain proved more serious than she had first
imagined, arid the summer vacation set in before she was able to
walk with ease. Mr. Huntingdon had been apprised of her long
absence from school, and one day, when she was cautiously try
ing her strength, he arrived, without having given premonition of
his visit. As he took her in his arms and marked the alteration
in her thin face, the listlessness of her manner, the sorrowful
gravity of her countenance, his fears were fully aroused, and,
holding her to his heart, he exclaimed :

" My daughter ! my beauty ! I must take you out of New
York."

" Yes, father, take me home ; do take me home." She clasped
her arms round his neck and nestled her face close to his.

" Not yet, queen. We will go to the Catskill, to Lake George,
to Niagara. A few weeks travel will invigorate you. I have
written to Hugh to meet us at Montreal ; he is with a gay party,
and you shall have a royal time. A pretty piece of business,
truly, that you can't amuse yourself in any other way than by
breaking half the bones in your body."

" Father, I would rather go home. Oh ! I am so tired of
this city, so sick of that boarding-school. Do, please, let me go
back with you."

" Oh, nonsense, Irene. Lift up your sleeve and let me see
your arm ; stretch it out ; all right, I believe ; straight enough.
You were walking just now ; how is your foot ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 127

" Almost well, I think ; occasionally I have a twinge of pain
when I bear my whole weight on it."

" Be sure you do not over-tax it for a while. By Monday you
will be able to start to Saratoga. Your aunt sent a trunk of
clothing, and, by the way, here is a letter from her and one from
Arnold. The doctor worries considerably about you ; is afraid
you will not be properly attended to."

Thus the summer programme was determined without any
reference to the wishes of the one most concerned, and, knowing
her father's disposition, she silently acquiesced. After much
persuasion, Mr. Huntingdon! prevailed on Louisa's parents to
allow her to accompany them. The mother consented very re
luctantly, and on the appointed day the party set off for Saratoga.
The change was eminently beneficial, and before they reached
Canada Irene seemed perfectly restored. But her father was
not satisfied. Her unwonted taciturnity annoyed and puzzled
him ; he knew that beneath the calm surface some strong under
current rolled swiftly, and he racked his brain to discover what
had rendered her so reserved. Louisa's joyous, elastic spirits
probably heightened the effect of her companion's gravity, and
the contrast daily presented could not fail to arrest Mr. Hunt
ingdon's attention. On arriving at Montreal the girls were left
for a few moments in the parlor of the hotel, while Mr. Hunt
ingdon went to register their names. Irene and Louisa stood
by the window looking out into the street, when a happy, ringing
voice exclaimed :

" Here you are, at last, Irie ! I caught a glimpse of your
curls as you passed the dining-room door."

She turned to meet her cousin and held out her hand.

" Does your majesty suppose I shall be satisfied with the tips
of your* fingers ? Pshaw, Irie ! I will have my kiss."

He threw his arm round her shoulder, drew down the shielding
hands, and kissed her twice.

" Oh, Hugh ! behave yourself I Miss Louisa Young, my
cousin, Hugh Seymour."

He bowed, and shook hands with the stranger, then seized his
cousin's fingers and fixed his fine eyes affectionately upon her

128 MACAEIA ; OR,

' It seems an age since I saw you, Trie. Come, sit down and
let me look at you ; how stately you have grown, to be sure !
More like a queen than ever ; absolutely two inches taller since
you entered boarding-school. Irie, I am so glad to see you
again 1" He snatched up a handful of curls and drew them across
his lips, careless of what Louisa might think.

" Thank you, Hugh. I am quite as glad to see you."

" Oh, humbug ! I know better. You would rather see Para
gon any day, ten to one. I will kill that dog yet, and shoot
Erebus, too ; see if I don't ! then maybe you can think of some
body else. When you are glad you show it in your eyes, and
now they are as still as violets under icicles. I think you
might love me a little, at least as much as a dog."

" Hush ! I do love you, but I don't choose to tell it to every
body in Montreal."

Mr. Huntingdon's entrance diverted the conversation, and
Irene was glad to escape to her own room.

" Your cousin seems to be very fond of you," observed Louisa,
as she unbraided her hair.

" He is very impulsive and demonstrative, that is all."

" How handsome he is !"

" Do you think so, really ? Take care, Louisa ! I will tell
him, and, by way of crushing his vanity, add ' de gustibus, etc.,
etc., etc.'"

11 How old is he ?"

" In his twentieth year."

From that time the cousins were thrown constantly together ;
wherever they went Hugh took charge of Irene, while Mr. Hun.
tingdon gave his attention to Louisa. But the eagle eye was
upon his daughter's movements ; he watched her countenance,
weighed her words, tried to probe her heart. Week after week
he found nothing tangible. Hugh was gay, careless ; Irene
equable, but reserved. Finally they turned their faces home
ward, and in October found themselves once more in New York.
Mr. Huntingdon prepared to return South and Hugh to sail for
Europe, while Irene remained at the hotel until the morning of
her cousin's departure.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 120

A private parlor adjoined the room she occupied, and here he
came to say farewell. She knew that he had already had a long
conversation with her father, and as he threw himself on the
sofa and seized one of her hands, she instinctively shrank from
him.

" Irene, here is my miniature. I wanted you to ask for it,
but I see that you won't do it. I know very well that you will
not value it one-thousandth part as much as I do your likeness
here on my watch-chain ; but perhaps it will remind you of me
sometimes. How I shall want to see you before I come home !
You know you belong to me. Uncle gave you to me, and when
I come back from Europe we will be married. We are both
very young, I know ; but it has been settled so long. Irie, my
beauty, I wish you would love me more ; you are so cold. Won't
you try ?"

He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her face hastily
away and answered resolutely :

" No, I can't love you other than as my cousin ; I would not,
if I could. I do riot think it would be right, and I won't pro
mise to try. Father has no right to give me to you, or to any
body else. I tell you now I belong to myself, and only I can
give myself away. Hugh, I don't consider this settled at all.
You might as well know the truth at once ; I have some voice
in the matter."

Mr. Huntingdon had evidently prepared him for something of
this kind on her part, and, though his face flushed angrily, he
took no notice of the remonstrance.

"I shall write to you frequently, and I hope that you will be
punctual in replying. Irie, give me your left hand just a minute ;
wear this ring till I come back, to remind you that you have a
cousin across the ocean."

He tried to force the flashing jewel on her slender finger, but
she resisted, and rose, struggling to withdraw her hand.

" No, no, Hugh ! I can't ; I won't. I know very well what
that ring means, and I can not accept it. Release my hand ; I
tell you I won't wear it."

6*

130 MACARIA ; OE,

" Come, Hugh ; you have not a moment to spare ; tlie car
riage is waiting." Mr. Huntingdon threw open the door, hay
ing heard every word that had passed. Hugh dropped the ring
in his vest-pocket and rose.

" Well, Trie, I suppose I must bid you farewell. Two or
three years will change you, my dearest little cousin. Good-
by ; think of me now and then, and learn to love me by the
time I come home."

She suffered him to take both her hands and kiss her tenderly,
for her father stood there and she could not refuse ; but the
touch of his lips burned her long after he was gone. She
put on her bonnet, and, when her father returned from the
steamer, they entered the carriage which was to convey her to
the dreary, dreaded school. As they rolled along Broadway,
Mr. Huntingdon coolly took her hand and placed Hugh's ring
upon it, saying, authoritatively :

" Hugh told me you refused to accept his parting gift, and
seemed much hurt about it. There is no reason why you should
not wear it, and in future I do riot wish to see you without it.
Remember this, my daughter."

"Father, it is wrong for me to wear it, unless I expected
t0 »

" I understand the whole matter perfectly. Now, Irene, let
me hear no more about it. I wish you would learn that it is a
child's duty to obey her parent. No more words, if you please,
on the subject."

She felt that this was not the hour for resistance, and wisely
forbore ; but he saw rebellion written in the calm, fixed eye,
and read it in the curved lines of the full upper lip. She had
entreated him to take her home, and, only the night before,
renewed her pleadings. But his refusal was positive, and now
she went back to the hated school without a visible token of
regret. She saw her trunks consigned to the porter, listened

to a brief conversation between Dr. and her father, and,

after a hasty embrace and half-dozen words, watched the tall,
soldierly form re-enter the carriage. Then she went slowly up the
broad stairway to her cell-like room, and with dry eyes unpacked

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 131

her clothes, locked up the ring in her jewelry-box, and prepared
to resume her studies.

The starry veil concealing the Holy of Holies of her Futurity
had swayed just once, and as quickly swept back to its wonted
folds ; but in that one swift glance she saw, instead of hovering
Cherubim, gaunts pectres, woful, appalling as Brimo. At some
period of life all have this dim, transient, tantalizing glimpse of
the inexorable Three, the mystic Moirte, weaving with steely
fingers the unyielding web of human destiny. Some grow
cowardly, striving to wend their way behind or beyond the
out-spread net-work, tripping, at last, in the midst of the snare ;
and some, with set teeth and rigid limbs, scorning to dodge
the issue, grapple with the Sisters, resolved to wrench the cun
ning links asunder, trusting solely to the palladium of Will.
Irene's little feet had become entangled in the fatal threads, and,
with no thought of flight, she measured the length and breadth
of the web, nerving herself to battle till the death.

CHAPTER XL

A HALO seems to linger around the haunts of Genius, as though
the outer physical world shaped itself in likeness to the Ideal,
and at the door of Mr. Clifton's studio, crude, matter-of-fact
utilitarians should have " put off their shoes from their feet" be
fore treading precincts sacred to Art. It was a long, lofty, nar
row room, with a grate at one end, and two windows at the
other, opening on the street. The walls were stained of a pale
olive hue, and the floor was covered with a carpet of green, em
broidered with orange sheaves of wheat. In color, the morocco-
cushioned chairs and sofas matched it well, and from the broad,
massive cornice over the windows — cornice representing writhing
serpents in clusters of oak leaves — folds of golden-flowered bro-
catel hung stiff and stately to the floor. The ceiling rose dome
like in the centre, and here a skylight poured down a flood of,

132 MACARIA; OR,

radiance on sunny days, and furnished a faint tattoo when rain
drops rattled over its panes. Crowded as the most ancient cata
combs of Thebes was this atelier, but with a trifle less ghostly
tenants. Plaster statues loomed up in the corners, bronze busts
and marble statuettes crowned mantle and sundry tables and
wooden pedestals ; quaint antique vases of china, crystal, alabas
ter, terra-cotta, and wood dark as ebony with age and polished
like glass, stood here and there in a sort of well-established,
regular irregularity, as if snatched from the ashy shroud of Her-
culaneum aud put down hastily in the first convenient place. An
Etruscan vase, time and lichen-stained, was made the base for an
unframed piece of canvas, which leaned back against the wall ;
and another, whose handles were Medusa-heads, and before
which, doubtless, some Italian maiden, in the palmy days of
Rome, had stood twining the feathery sprays of blossoms whose
intoxicating perfume might still linger in its marble depths, was
now the desecrated receptacle of a meerschaum and riding-whip.
The walls were tapestried with paintings of all sizes, many richly
framed, one or two covered with glass, and so dark as to pass,
without close examination, for a faithful representation, of Pha
raoh's ninth plague ; some lying helplessly on the olive back
ground, others leaning from the wall at an acute angle, looking
threatening, as if fiery souls had entered and stirred up the
figures — among which Dcianira, bending f®rward with jealous
rage to scan the lovely Jole, destined to prove the At6 of her
house. Where a few feet of pale green would have peered forth
between large pictures, crayon sketches were suspended ; and oil
the top of more than one carved frame perched stuffed birds of
gorgeous tropical hues, a mimic aviary, motionless and silent as
if Perseus had stepped into a choral throng and held up the Gor
gon's head. In the centre of the room, under the skylight, stood
the artist's easel, holding an unfinished picture, and over its face
was drawn a piece of black silk. Farther off was another easel,
smaller, and here was the dim outline of a female head traced by
the fair, slender fingers of a tyro. It was late October ; a feeble
flame flickered in the grate ; on the rug crouched an English
spaniel, creeping closer as the heat died out and the waning light

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 133

of day gradually receded, leaving the room dusky, save where a
slanting line of yellow quivered down from the roof and gilt the
folds of black silk. At one of the windows stood Electra, half
concealed by the heavy green and gold drapery, one dimpled
hand clinging to the curtains, the other pressed against the panes,
as she watched the forms hurrying along the street below. The
pras was already lighted on the crowded highways of the great
city, and the lamp just beneath the window glared up like an
electric eye. She was dressed in half-mourning, in sober gray,
with a black crape collar at the throat. " There is no exquisite
beauty without some strangeness in the proportions,'7 says Baron
Verulam ; and the strangeness of Electra's countenance certainly
lay in the unusual width between the eye-brows. Whatever sig
nificance learned phrenologists or physiognomists attach to this
peculiarity, at all events it imparted piquancy to the features that
I am striving to show you by that flaming gas-light. Her
watching attitude denoted anxiety, and the bloom on her cheek
had faded, leaving the whole face colorless. The lower lip was
drawn under, and held hard and tight by the pearly teeth, while
the wide-strained eyes —

" Shining eyes like antique jewels set in Parian statue-stone—"

searched every face that passed the window. " That hope de
ferred maketh the heart sick," she stood there in attestation ;
yet it was not passive sorrow printed on her countenance — rather
the momentary, breathless exhaustion of a wild bird beating out
its life in useless conflict with the unyielding wires of its cage.
The dying hope, the despairing dread, in that fair young face,
beggars language, and as the minutes crept by the words burst
from her lips : " Will he never, never come I"

For three weeks she had received no letter from Russell ; ho
was remarkably punctual, and this long, unprecedented interval
Oiled her, at first, with vague uneasiness, which grew finally into
horrible foreboding. For ten days she had stood at this hour,
at the same window, waiting for Mr. Clifton's return from the
post-office. Ten times the word " ~No letter" had fallen, like the

134: MACAEIA; OR,

voice of doom, on her throbbing heart. " Xo letter !" — she
heard it in feverish dreams, and fled continually from its hissing,
Only those who have known what it is to stake their hopes on a
sheet of letter-paper ; to wake at dawn, counting the hours, till
the mail is due, working diligently to murder time till that hour
rolls round ; to send a messenger, in hot haste, to watch the
clock, giving him just so many minutes to go and come ; to lis
ten for the sound of returning steps, to meet him at the door
with outstretched hands, and receive — " no letter ;" only those
who have writhed on this rack know the crushing thought with
which they pressed cold hands to aching hearts ; " another
twenty-four hours to be endured before the next mail comes in ;
what shall I do till then ?" These are the trials that plough
wrinkles in smooth girlish brows ; that harden the outline of soft
rosy lips ; that sicken the weary soul, and teach women decep
tion. Electra knew that Mr. Clifton watched her narrowly, sus
piciously j and behind the mask of gay rapid words, arid ringing
mirthless laughter, she tried to hide her suffering. Ah ! God
pity all who live from day to day hanging upon the brittle thread
of hope. On this eleventh day suspense reached its acme, and
time seemed to have locked its wheels to lengthen her torture.
Mr. Clifton had been absent longer than usual ; most unwitting
ly we are sometimes grand inquisitors, loitering by the way when
waiting hearts are secretly, silently dropping blood. At last an
omnibus stopped, and Mr. Clifton stepped out, with a bundle of
papers under his arm. Closer pressed the pallid face against the
glass ; firmer grew the grasp of the icy fingers on the brocatel ;
she had no strength to meet him. He closed the door, hung up
his hat, and looked into the studio ; no fire in the grate, no light
in the gas-globes — everything colcl and dark save the reflection
on that front window.

" Electra !"

"I am here."

" No letter."

She stood motionless a moment ; but the brick walls opposite,
the trees, the lamp-posts spun around, like maple leaves in an
autumn galo.

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 135

" My owlet ! why don't you have a light and some fire ?"

He stumbled toward her, and put his hand on her shoulder,
but she shrank away, and, lighting the gas, rang for coal.

" There is something terrible the matter ; Russell is either ill
or dead. I must go to hirn."

" Nonsense ! sheer nonsense ; he is busy, that is all. Your
cousin has forgotten you for the time ; after a while he will
write. You are too exacting ; young men sometimes find con
stant, regular correspondence a bore ; a letter every week is too
much to expect of him. Don't be childish, Electra."

As she noticed the frown on his face, a dark suspicion seized
her j " perhaps he had intercepted her letters." Could he stoop
to such an astifice ?

" Electra, I would try to divert my mind. After all, his let
ters are short, and I should judge, rather unsatisfactory."

" What do you know of the length or contents of his let
ters r

"I know they are brief, because I occasionally see them open
in your hand ; I judge that they are unsatisfactory from the
cloud on your face whenever they come. But I have no dispo
sition to contest the value of his correspondence with you. That
article on chiaroscuro has arrived at last ; if you feel inclined,
you can begin it at once."

Chiaro-scuro, forsooth 1 Mockery ! She had quite ddaro-
scuro enough, and to spare ; but the smile on the artist's lip
stung her, and, without a word, she took a seat at his side and
began to read. Page after page was turned, technicalities
slipped through her lips, but she understood as little of the essay
as if the language had been Sanscrit instead of Saxon ; for, like
the deep, undying murmur of the restless sea, there rang in her
ears, " No letter ! no letter I" As she finished the pamphlet
and threw it on the table, her hands dropped listlessly on her
lap. Mr. Clifton was trying to read her countenance, and im
patient of his scrutiny, she rose to seek her own room. Just
then the door-bell rang sharply ; she supposed it was some
brother -artist coming to spend an hour, and turned to go.

" Wait a minute ; I want to j" he paused, for at that

13G

instant she heard a voice which, even amid the din of Shinar,
would have been unmistakable to her, and breaking from him,
she sprang to the threshold and met her cousin.

" Oh, Russell I I thought you had forgotten me."

" What put such a ridiculous thought into your head ? My
last letter must have prepared you to expect me."

" What letter ? I have had none for three weeks."

" One in which I mentioned Mr. Campbell's foreign appoint
ment, and the position of secretary which he tendered me. Elec-
tra, let me speak to Mr. Clifton."

As he advanced and greeted the artist she heard a quick,
snapping sound, and saw the beautiful Bohemian glass paper-
cutter her guardian had been using lying shivered to atoms, on
the rug. The fluted handle was crushed in his fingers, and drops
of blood oozed over the left hand. Ere she could allude to it
he thrust his hand into his pocket and desired Russell to be
seated.

" This is a pleasure totally unexpected. What is the appoint
ment of which you spoke !"

" Mr. Campbell has been appointed Minister to , and

sails next week. I am surprised that you have not heard of it
from the public journals ; many of them have spoken of it, and
warmly commended the selection. I accompany him in the
capacity of secretary, and shall, meanwhile, prosecute my studies
under his direction."

The gray, glittering eyes of the artist sought those of his
pupils, and for an instant hers quailed ; but, rallying, she looked
fully, steadfastly at him, resolved to play out the game, scorn
ing to bare her heart to his scrutiny. She had fancied that
Russell's affection had prompted this visit ; now it was apparent
that he came to New York to take a steamer, not to see her ; to
put the stormy Atlantic between them. The foaming draught
which she had snatched to her lips so eagerly, so joyfully, was
turning to hemlock as she tasted ; and though she silently put
the cup from her, it was done smilingly ; there were no wry faces,
no gestures of disgust.

" New York certainly agrees with you, Electra ; you have

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 137

grown and improved very much since you came North. I never
saw such color in your cheeks before ; I can scarcely believe that
you are the same fragile child I put into the stage one year ago.
This reconciles me to having given you up to Mr. Clifton ; he is
a better guardian than I could have been. But tell me some
thing more about these new relatives you spoke of having found
there."

Mr. Clifton left the room, and the two sat side by side for an
hour talking of the gloomy past, the flitting present, the uncer
tain future. Leaning back in his chair, with his eyes fixed on
the grate, Russell said, gravely :

" There is now nothing to impede my successful career ; ob
stacles are rapidly melting away ; every day brings me nearer
the goal I long since set before me. In two years at farthest,
perhaps earlier, I shall return and begin the practice of law.
Once admitted, I ask no more. Then, and not till then, I hope
to save you from the necessity of labor ; in the interim, Mr.
Clifton will prove a noble and generous friend ; and believe me,
my cousin, the thought of leaving you so long is the only thing
which will mar the pleasure of my European sojourn."

The words were kind enough, but the tone was indifferent,
and the countenance showed her that their approaching separa
tion disquieted him little. She thought of the sleepless nights
and wretched days she had passed waiting for a letter from that
tall, reserved, cold cousin, and her features relaxed in a derisive
smile at the folly of her all-absorbing love. Raising his eyes ac
cidentally, he caught the smile, wondered what there was to call
it forth in the plans which he had just laid before her, and,
meeting his glance of surprise, she said, carelessly :

" Are you not going to see Irene before you sail ?"

His cheek flushed as he rose, straightened himself, and an
swered :

" A strange question, truly, from one who knows me as well
as you do. Call to see a girl whose father sent her from home
solely to prevent her from associating with my family ! Through
what sort of metamorphosis do you suppose that I have passed,
that every spark of self-respect has been crushed out of me ?"

138 MACAEIA; OR,

" Her father's tyranny and selfishness can never nullify her
noble and affectionate remembrance of Aunt Amy, in the hour
of her need."

" And when I ani able to repay her every cent we owe her,
then, and not till then, I wish to see her. Things shall change ;
mens cujusque is est quisque ; and the day will come when Mr.
Huntingdon may not think it degrading for his daughter to ac
knowledge my acquaintance on the street."

A brief silence ensued, Russell drew on his gloves, and finally
said, hesitatingly :

" Dr. Arnold told me she had suffered very much from a
fall."

" Yes ; for a long time she was confined to her room."

" Has she recovered entirely ?"

" Entirely. She grows more beautiful day by day."

Perhaps he wished to hear more concerning her, but she
would not gratify him, and, soon after, he took up his hat.

" Mr. Clifton has a spare room, Russell ; why can't you stay
with us while you are in New York ?"

" Thank you ; but Mr. Campbell will expect me at the hotel ;
I shall be needed, too, as he has many letters to write. I will
see you to-morrow, and indeed every day while I remain in the
city."

" Then pay your visits in the morning, for I want to take
your portrait with rny own hands. Give me a sitting as early
as possible."

" Very well ; look for me to-morrow. Good-night."

The week that followed was one of strangely-mingled sorrows
and joys ; in after years it served as a prominent land-mark to
which she looked back and dated sad changes in her heart.
Irene remained ignorant of Russell's presence in the city, and at
last the day dawned on which the vessel was to sail. At the
breakfast table Mr. Clifton noticed the colorlessness of his pupil's
face, but kindly abstained from any allusion to it. He saw that,
contrary to habit, she drank a cup of coffee, and, arresting her
arm as she requested his mother to give her a second, he said,
gently —

AT/TAHS OF SACRIFICE. 139

" My dear child, where did you suddenly find such Turkish
tastes ? I thought you disliked coffee ?"

" I take it now as medicine. My head aches horribly."

" Then let me prescribe for you. We will go down to the
steamer with Russell, and afterward take a long ride to Green
wood, if you like."

" He said he would call here at ten o'clock to bid us
farewell."

" N'importt. The carriage will be ready, and we will accom
pany him."

At the appointed hour they repaired to the vessel, and, look
ing at its huge sides, Elcctra coveted even a deck passage ;
envied the meanest who hurried about, making all things ready
for departure. The last bell rang ; people crowded down on the
planks ; Russell hastened back to the carriage, and took the
nerveless, gloved hand.

" I will write as early as possible ; don't be uneasy about me ;
no accident has ever happened on this line. I am glad I leave
you with such a friend as Mr. Clifton. Good-by, cousin ; it
will not be very long before we meet again."

He kissed the passive lips, shook hands with the artist, and
sprang on board just as the planks were withdrawn. The vessel
moved majestically on its way ; friends on shore waved handker
chiefs to friends departing, and hands were kissed and hats lifted,
and then the crowd slowly dispersed — for steamers sail every
week, and people become accustomed to the spectacle. But to
day it was freighted with the last fond hope of a deep and pas
sionate nature ; and as Electra gazed on the line of foam white
ning the dull surface of the water, the short-lived billows and
deep hollows between seemed newly-made graves, whose hungry
jaws had closed for ever over the one bright lingering hope which
she had hugged to her heart.

" Are you ready to go now ?" asked Mr. Clifton.

11 Yes, ready, quite ready — for Greenwood."

She spoke in a tone which had lost its liquid music, and with
a wintry smile that fled over the ashy face, lending the features
no light, no warmth.

140 MACARIA ; OR,

He tried to divert her mind by calling attention to various
things of interest, but the utter exhaustion of her position and
the monosyllabic character of her replies soon discouraged him.
Both felt relieved when the carriage stopped before the studio,
and as he led her up the steps he said, affectionately :

" I am afraid my prescription has not cured your head."

" No, sir ; but I thank you most sincerely for the kind effort
. on have made to relieve me. I shall be better to-morrow.
Good-by, till then."

" Stay, rny child. Come into the studio, and let me read
something light and pleasant to you."

" Not for the universe ! The sight of a book would give me
brain fever, I verily believe."

She tried unavailingly to shake off his hand.

" Why do you shrink from me, my pupil ?"

" Because I am sick, weary ; and you watch me so that I
get restless and nervous. Do let me go 1 I want to sleep."

An impatient stamp emphasized the words, and, as he relaxed
his clasp of her fingers, she hastened to her room, and locked the
door to prevent all intrusion. Taking off her bonnet, she drew
the heavy shawl closely around her shoulders and threw herself
across the foot of the bed, burying her face in her hands lest the
bare walls should prove witnesses of her agony. Six hours later
she lay there still, with pale fingers pressed to burning, dry eye
lids.

Oh, bigotry of human nature 1 By what high commission, by
what royal patent, do men and women essay to judge of fellow-
men and sister-women by one stern, inexorable standard, unyield
ing as the measure of Damastes ? The variety of emotional and
intellectual types is even greater than the physical, and, as the
ages roll, we need other criteria. Who shall dare lay finger on
fellow-creature and audaciously proclaim : "I have gone down
among the volcanic chambers of this soul and groped in its ady
tum, amid the dust and ruins of its overturned altars and crum
bling idols ; have fathomed its mysteries, and will tell you, by
infallible plummet, the depths thereof." There are sealed cells,
where, veiled from scrutiny and sacred as Eleusinia, burns the

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE.

God-given shechinah of the human soul. As the myriad shells
that tessellate old ocean's pavements, as the vast army of innu
merable clouds which ceaselessly shift their coloring and their
forms at the presto of wizard winds ; as the leaves of the forest
that bud and wane in the flush of summer or the howl of wintry
storms, so we differ one from another. Linnaeus and Jussien,
with microscopic aid, have classified and christened ; but now
and then new varieties startle modern savans, and so likewise
new types stalk among men and women, whose elements will
neither be lopped off nor elongated to meet the established mea
sure.

CHAPTER XII.

ONCE more the labors of a twelve-month had been exhibited
at the Academy of Design — some to be classed among things
" that were not born to die ;" others to fall into nameless graves.
Many, who had worked faithfully, recognizing the sacredness of
their commission, had climbed higher in public estimation ; and
a few, making mere pastime, or resting upon a reputation already
earned, had slipped back. Mr. Clifton was represented by an
exquisite (Enone, and on the same wall, in a massive oval frame,
hung the first finished production of his pupil. For months after
Russell's departure she sat before her easel, slowly filling up the
outline sketched while his eyes watched her. She lingered over
her work, loath to put the final stroke, calling continually upon
Memory to furnish the necessary details ; and frequently, in re
calling transient smiles, the curl of his lip, or bending of his brow,
palette and brush would slip from her fingers, while she sat weav
ing the broken yet priceless threads of a hallowed Past. Appli
cation sometimes trenches so closely upon genius as to be mista
ken for it in its results, and, where both are happily blended, the
bud of Art expands in immortal perfection. Electra spared no
toil, and so it came to pass that the faultless head of her idol ex
cited intense and universal admiration. In the catalogue it was

142

briefly mentioned as " Xo. 17 — a portrait ; first effort of a young
female artist." Connoisseurs, who had committed themselves
by extravagant praise, sneered at the announcement of the cata
logue, and, after a few inquiries, blandly asserted that no tyro
could have produced it ; that the master had wrought out its
perfection, and generously allowed the pupil to monopolize the
encomiums. In vain Mr. Clifton disclaimed the merit, and as
serted that he had never touched the canvas ; that she had jeal
ously refused to let him aid her. Incredulous smiles and unmis
takable motions of the head were the sole results of his expostu
lation. Little mercy has a critical world for novices, particular
ly those clad in woman's garments ; few helping hands are kind
ly stretched toward her trembling fingers, few strengthening
words find her in her seclusion ; and when these last do come in
friendly whispers, are they not hung up "as. apples of gold in
pictures of silver n along the chequered walls of memory ? Cold
glances generally greet her earliest works ; they are handled sus
piciously, the beauties are all extracted, set in a row, and label
led "plagiarisms ;" the residue, like dross in crucibles, is handed
back as " original, and her undoubted property." Or, perchance,
the phraseology varies, and she hears " This book, this statue,
this picture, is no^ unpracticed woman's work ; we speak advised
ly and pronounce the fact, that pen, or rasp, or chisel, or brush,
belongs unmistakably to a master — an experienced writer or vet
eran artist." It is this bent of human nature to load with chap-
lets well-established favorites of fame, to " whitewash" continual
ly with praise, to jealously withhold the meed of beginners, ren
dering grudgingly " Caesar's things to Caesar," which tips many
a pen with gall, and shadows noble pictures with unseemly clouds.
Electra was indignant at the injustice meted out to her, and, as
might have been expected, rebelled against the verdict. Yery
little consolation was derived from the argument by which her
master strove to mollify her — that the incredulity of the critics
was the highest eulogy that could have been pronounced upon
her work. Some weeks after the close of the exhibition, the
(Enone was purchased and the portrait sent home. Electra
placed it on the easel once more, and stood before it in rapt con-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 14:3

tcmplation. Down fr.om the arched roof flowed billows of light,
bathing her rounded form as in a sea of molten topaz, and kin
dling a startling, almost unearthly, beauty in the canvas. What
mattered the brevity and paucity of Russell's lettprs now ? —
what though three thousand miles of tempestuous sea roared and
tossed between them ? — she had his untarnished image in her
heart, his life-like features ever before her. To this shrine she
came continually, and laid thereon the offering of a love passion
ate and worshiping as ever took entire possession of a woman's
heart. Coldness, silence, neglect, all were forgotten when she
looked into the deep, beautiful eyes, and upon the broad, bold,
matchless brow.

" . . . . Love is not love

Which alters, when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove ;

Oh, no ! it is an ever fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken."

She had not the faintest hope that he would ever cherish a
tenderer feeling for her ; but love is a plant of strange growth ;
now lifting its head feebly in rich, sunny spots, where every fos
tering influence is employed ; and now springing vigorous from
barren, rocky cliffs, clinging in icy ere vises, defying every adverse
element, sending its fibrous roots deeper and deeper in unconge
nial soil ; bending before the fierce breath of storms, only to
erect itself more firmly ; spreading its delicate petals over the
edges of eternal snow, self-sustaining, invincible, immortal. A
curious plant, truly, and one which will not bear transplanting,
as many a luckless experiment has proved. To-day, as Electra
looked upon her labors, the coils of Time seemed to fall away ;
the vista of Eternity opened before her, peopled with two forms,
which on earth walked widely separate paths, and over her fea
tures stole a serene, lifted expression, as if, after painful scaling,
she had risen above the cloud-region and caught the first rays of
perpetual sunshine.

Time, like a weaver, made strange, dim, confused masses of
woof and warp ; but in Eternity the earth-work would be turn
ed, and delicate tracery and marvellous coloring, divine bobelins,

144

would come to light. Patience ! Away from the loom — let the
shuttle fly ! " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou
shalt know hereafter." Hence to the barren fields, and till
them until the harvest.

Mr. Clifton had watched her for some moments, with lower
ing brow and jealous hatred of the picture. Approaching, he
looked over her shoulder, and asked :

" How much longer do you intend to stand here ? Pygma
lion was not more captivated by his ivory image than you are by
your head. Were it Antinous or Apollo, I doubt whether your
admiration would be enhanced."

" It is more than Antinous and Apollo," she answered, draw
ing the folds of silk over the portrait and turning toward him.

" Child, you are an idolatress."

" Perhaps so ; but, at least, I am in a goodly company. Many
bow down before the shrine of their own handiwork ; some
bring libations to Mammon, some to Fame, some to Ambition,
some to Love. Nature intended us to kneel, which is preferable
to standing, statue-like, exacting obeisance from others. Which
is nobler ? But how am I an idolatress ? Shall I not prize the
features of my cousin, my earliest friend and playmate ? Would
you have me tear off and cast away the kindly emotions, the
warm affections wherewith God clothed me, as badges of hu
manity ?"

" By no means. But would you have a second Ixion's
wheel ?"

" Aye, sir, when I am weak enough to worship a cloud. Mr.
Clifton, I believe I have shaken hands with my rosy-cheeked,
sunny-eyed, siren charmed childhood ; and, to-day, standing here
a woman, with few ties to bind me to my fellow-creatures, I hold
this one jewelled link of the past in the hollow of my hand, and
pet it. W4?y not ? Oh, why not ? I am but seventeen ; this
is all that I have left to caress, and soon the waves of coming
years will wash this, too, through my fingers. Would you, less
merciful than Time, snatch it from rue prematurely ?"

" I would, that in exchange I might heap your hands with un
told treasure and joy."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 145

" I think I am less grasping, then, than you. Leave me the
little I value ; I ask no more, wish no more, will have no more."

She would have left him, but his hand fell heavily on hers.

" Electra, I must speak to you ; hear me. You hug a phan
tom to your heart ; Russell does not and will not love you, other
than as his cousin."

The blood deserted her face, leaving a grayish pallor, but the
eyes sought his steadily, and the rippling voice lost none of its
rich cadence.

" Except as his cousin, I do not expect Russell to love me."

" Oh, child ! you deceive yourself ; this is a hope that you
cling to with mad tenacity."

She wrung her hand from his, and drew her figure to its ut
most height.

"You transcend your privilege, sir I when you attempt to ca
techise me thus. I deny the right of any one on earth to put
such questions to me — to make such assertions."

" Electra, I did not mean to offend you, but the time has come
when we must understand each other "

" You did not mean to offend me — -well, let that pass ; an
other day we will discuss it, if you please," she interrupted, wav
ing him off and turning toward the door.

"No ; you must hear me now. I have a right to question
you — the right of my long, silent, faithful love. You may deny
it, but that matters little ; be still, and listen. Did you suppose
that I was simply a generous man, when I offered to guard and
aid you — when I took you to my house, placed you in my mo
ther's care, and lavished affection upon you ? Did you dream
that I was disinterested in what I have done to encourage and
assist you ? Did you imagine I was merely an amiable philan
thropist, anxious to help all in difficulty and sorrow ? If so, put
away the hallucination. Consider me no longer your friend ;
look at me as I am, a jealous and selfishly exacting man, who
stands before you to-day and tells you he loves you. Oh, Elec
tra ! From the morning when you first showed me your sketches,
you have been more than my life to me. An unconquerable love
sprang up then, and it has grown with the months and years,

7

146 MACAKIA J OBr

taking sole possession of a heart which never bowed before any
other woman. Every hope I have centred in you. I have not
deceived myself ; I knew that you loved Russell. Nay, don't
deny it ; I have watched you too long not to probe your mask.
I knew that he had yonr girlish love, but I waited, and hoped
my devotion would win you. You were but a child, and I
thought the depth and fervor of my affection would out-weigh a
childish fancy. When he came here, I saw that the old fascina
tion still kept its hold upon you, but I saw, too, what you saw
quite as plainly — that in Russell Aubrey's heart there is room
for nothing but ambition. I knew how you suffered, and I be
lieved it was the death-struggle of your love, Butr instead, I
find you, day by day, before that easel — oblivious of me, of
everything but the features you cling to so insanely. Do you
wonder that I hate that portrait I Do you wonder that I am
growing desperate ? Where is your womanly prider that you
lavish your love on one totally indifferent to you ? Strange
paradox that you are ! — proud, passionate, exacting, and yet
clinging madly to a memory. Have you no mercy, that you
doom me to live for ever on the rack ? Shall yonder piece of
canvas always stand between your heart and mine ? If he loved
you in return, I could bear it better ; but as it is, I am tortured
beyond all endurance. I have spent nearly three years in trying
to gain your heart ; all other aims have faded before this one
absorbing love. To-day I lay it at your feet, and ask if I have
not earned some reward. Oh, Eleetra ! have you no grati
tude ?"

A scarlet spot burned on his pale cheeks, and the mild liquid
gray eyes sparkled like stars.

It was no startling revelation to her ; long before she had seen
that this hour of trial must come to both, and now, despite her
resolution, his words unnerved her. She dared not look at him j
the hollow voice told her too well what effect this excitement
was working on his feeble frame.

" Oh, Mr. Clifton 1 I am grateful ; God, who sees my heart,
knows that I am. No child ever loved a parent better than I
love you."

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 147

u It is not filial affection that I ask of yon, now. I beg you
to lay your dear hands in mine, and promise to be my wife. I
ask this of you in the name of my devotion. You gave yourself
to me years ago, and to-day I beseech you to seal the compact
by a final promise. Electra, beware how you answer ! Bridge
the gulf between us. Give me your hand."

He stretched out his hand, but she drew back a step.

" God forgive me ! but I have no such love for you."

A ghastly smile broke over his face, and, after a moment, the
snowy handkerchief he passed across his lips was stained with
ruby streaks.

" I know that, and I know the reason. But, once more, I
ask you to give me your hand. Elqctra, dearest, do not, I pray
you, refuse me this. Oh, child ! give me your hand, and in time
you will learn to love me."

He seized her fingers, and stooped his head till the silky brown
beard mingled with her raven locks.

" Mr. Clifton, to marry without love would be a grievous sin ;
I dare not. We would hate each other. Life would be a curse
to both, and death a welcome release. Could you endure a wife
who accepted your hand from gratitude and pity ? Oh ! such
a relationship would be horrible beyond all degree. I shudder
at the thought."

" But you would learn to love me."

The summer wind shook the window-curtains and rustled the
folds of black silk till the drapery slid from the portrait and left
it fully exposed to view.' She gave one quick glance at the be
loved countenance, and, falling on her knees before the easel,
raised her clasped hands passionately, and exclaimed :

" Impossible ! impossible ! You have said that he is my idol,
and you make no mistake. He fills my heart so entirely, that I
have nothing but reverence and gratitude to offer you. I am
young, I know, and you think that this is a girlish fancy, which
will fade with coming years. I tell you, sir, this love has be
come part of me. When he went to Europe I said, ' I will tear
it out of my heart, and forget him ; I will give every thought to
my noble art.' Faithfully I strove to do so ; but a little moun-

148

tain stream, once merged in the pathless ocean, might as well
struggle to gather back its tiny wavelets and return to its peb
bly channel. I am proud ; it humiliates me to acknowledge all
this ; and nothing on earth could wring it from me but my de
sire to convince you that it is utterly impossible I can ever love
you, as you ask.

" I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I overturn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen grayness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out in darkness utterly,
It might be well, perhaps.''

" But you can not take Russell's place. None can come
between him and my heart."

The yellow light dripped down on her purplish hair, crystal-
izing into a nimbus, as she knelt before the portrait, lifting her
hands, like saints in medieval pictures, fleeing from martyrdom.
Shame dyed her cheeks, but a desperate, reckless triumph flash
ed in the upraised eyes, revealing fully the aversion which his
suit had inspired. Unfortunate, deplorable as was her love for
a cousin, it seemed for the moment to glorify her, and Mr.
Clifton put his hand over his eyes to shut out the vision.

" Electra Grrey, you are unwomanly in your unsought love."

" Unwomanly ! If so, made such by your unmanliness.
Unwomanly ! I deny it. Which is most unwomanly — to yield
to the merciless importunity of one to whom I am indebted ;
to give my hand to one whose touch chills the blood in my
veins ; to promise to become his wife, when the bare thought
sickens my soul; to dare to stand before G-od's altar and take
false vows on my lips, or tell the truth ? to shield myself from
his entreaties, under the holy mantle of a deep, undying love
for another ? I volunteered no confession ; you taxed and
taunted me with my affection. Sir, it should have made me
sacred in your eyes. Unwomanly ! Were you more manly, I
had never shocked your maudlin sentiments of propriety."

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 14:9

" And this is my reward for all the tenderness I nave lavished
on you. When I stooped to beg your hand, to be repulsed
with scorn and loathing. To spend three years in faithful effort
to win your heart, and reap contempt, hatred,"

Staggering back, he sank into his arm-chair and closed his
eyes a moment, then continued :

" If it were possible that you could be happy, I would not
complain ; but there is no hope of that. You might as well
kneel to my marble Hermes yonder, as to Russell. Stranger
infatuation never possessed a woman."

" I am not blind ; I neither ask or expect anything from him.
Unless you betray my confidence he will never suspect the truth,
and I would sooner endure the tortures of Torquemada than that
he should know it. But by what process will you demonstrate
that, since a rare and royal banquet is forever shut beyond my
reach, it is my duty to sit down in the dust and try to content
myself with husks ? Sir, my God never intended me to live on
crumbs, and I will not. I will be true to my heart ; if the vast
host of my fellow-creatures should pass away from earth, I will
stand alone, and conquer solitude as best I may. Not * one jot,
not one tittle' of my nature will I yield for companionship. No
mess of pottage will I have in lieu of my birthright. All, or
none ! Marriage is holy ; God, in His wisdom, instituted it
with the seal of love ; but its desecration with counterfeits
makes Tophets, Golgothas, instead of Edens. I know what I
have to expect ; on my Own head be the future. If quarrel
there be, it is between fate and me ; you have nb concern in it."

" I would not have troubled you long, Electra. It was be
cause I knew that my life must be short at best, that I urged
you to gild the brief period with the light of your love. I
would not have bound you always to me ; and when I asked
your hand a few minutes since, I knew that death would soon
sever the tie and set you free. Let this suffice to palliate my
' unmanly' pleading. I have but one request to make of you
now, and, weak as it may seem, I beg of you not to deny me.
You are preparing to leave my house ; this I know ) I see it in
your face, and the thought is harrowing to me. Electra, remain

150

under my roof while I live ; let me see you every day, here, in
my house. If not as my wife, stay as my friend, my pupil, my
child. I little thought I could ever condescend to ask this of any
one ; but the dread of separation bows me down. Oh, child !
I will not claim you long."

She stood up before him with the portrait in her arms,
resolved then and there, to leave him for ever. But the ghastly
pallor of his face, the scarlet thread oozing over his lips and
saturating the handkerchief with which he strove to staunch it,
told her that the request was preferred on no idle pretext. In
swift review, his kindness, generosity, and unwavering affection
passed before her, and the mingled accents of remorse and com
passion whispered : " Pay your debt of gratitude by sacrificing
your heart. If you can make him happy, you owe it to
him."

Without a word she passed him and went up to her own room.
It was an hour of sore temptation for one so young and inex
perienced, but placing the portrait on the low mantle, she crossed
her arms before it, and tried to lay matters in the scale. On one
side, years of devotion, the circumstances of the artist's life, his
mother's infirmity, confining her sometimes to her bed, often to
her room, preventing her from nursing him ; the weary season
of his tedious illness, the last hours gloomy and miserable, un-
soothed by gentle words or tender offices. On the other, stern
adherence, unerring obedience to the dictates of her heart, the
necessary self-abnegation, the patient attendance at the couch
of prolonged suffering, and entire devotion to him. For a time
the scales balanced ; she could not conquer her repugnance to
remaining in his home ; then a grave and its monumental stone
were added, and, with a groan, she dropped her face in her
hands. At the expiration of two hours she locked the portrait
from view, and went back to the studio. The house was very
quiet ; the ticking of the clock was distinctly heard as she
pushed the door open and glided in. Involuntarily she drew a
long, deep breath, for it was like leaving freedom at the thres
hold, and taking upon herself grievous bonds. The arm-chair
was vacant, but the artist lay on one of the sofas, with his face

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 151

toward the wall, and on a small table beside him stood a
crystal bowl of cracked ice, a stained win«-glass, and a vial
containing some dark purple liquid. Approaching softly, she
scanned the countenance, and tears gathered in her eyes as she
saw how thin and hollow were the now flushed cheeks ; how
the lips writhed now and then, as if striving to suppress bitter
words. The beautiful brown hair was all tossed back, and she
noticed that along the forehead clustered many silver threads.
One hand was thrust within his vest, the other thrown up over the
head, grasping a fresh handkerchief. Softly she took this hand,
and, bending over him, said in a low, thrilling tone :

*' Mr. Clifton, I was passionate and hasty, and said some unkind
things which I would fain recall, and for which I beg your par
don. I thank you for the honor you would have conferred on
me, and for the unmerited love you offered me. Unless it were
in my power to return that love, it would be sinful to give you
my hand ; but, since you desire it so earnestly, I will promise to
stay by your side, to do what I can to make you happy ; to prove
by my devotion that I am not insensible to all your kindness, that
I am very grateful for the affection you have given me. I come
and offer you this, as a poor return for all that I owe you ; it is
the most my conscience will permit me to tender. My friend,
my master, will you accept it, and forgive the pain and sorrow I
have caused you ?"

He felt her tears falling on his fingers, and, for a moment,
neither spoke ; then he drew the hands to his lips and kissed
them tenderly.

" Thank you, Electra. I know it is a sacrifice on your part,
but I am selfish enough to accept it. Heaven bless you, my
pupil."

" In future we will not allude to this day of trial — let it be
forgotten ; ' let the dead past bury its dead.' I will have no
resurrected phantoms. And now, sir, you must not allow this
slight hemorrhage to depress you. In a few days you will be
stronger, quite able to examine and find fault with my work.
Shall I send a note to Dr. LeRoy, asking him to call and see.
you this evening ?"

152

" He has just left me. Say nothing of the hemorrhage to
mother ; it would only distress her."

He released her hands, and, stooping over his pillow, she smooth
ed the disordered hair, and for the first time pressed her .lips to
his forehead.

Thus she bowed her neck to the yoke, and, with a fixed, un
alterable will, entered on the long dreary ministry to which she
felt that duty called.

We shade our eyes, and peer into the dim unknown, striving
to see whither we are tending, and a sudden turn in the way, a
sharp angle, brings us face to face with huge, frowning obsta
cles, that grimly bar all progress in the direction to which our
inclinations point. Strange devious paths stretched out at our
feet, baffling all our wise conjectures, setting at defiance all our
plans and prudential machinations. From breath to breath,
from step to step, from hour to hour, is man's sole empire.
" Boast not thyself of to-morrow."

CHAPTER XIII.

" CITIES give not the human senses room enough," says a lat
ter-day seer, and Electra Grey sometimes felt that her heart and
soul were in the stocks, or ironed down to a stake, leaving only
a periphery of a few feet. Brick walls and paving-stones uttered
no kindly message ; hurrying foot-passengers and crowded omni
buses told of the din and strife of life, but whispered no word of
cheer, no lesson of uncomplaining fortitude, no exhortation to be
strong and patient. She saw colossal selfishness crushing along
its Juggernautic way ; wealth jostled poverty into the gutter, and
beauty picked a dainty crossing to give a wide berth to defor
mity ; hard, stern, granite-like faces passed her window day by
day ; princely equipages, with haughty, supercilious occupants,
rolled along the street, and bridal trains and funeral proces
sions mingled in their windings. If man be, indeed, a " micro

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 153

cosm," to what shall I liken that great city wherein dwelt the
painter and his pupil ? Isis, the great nursing-mother — genial
Nature, teeming with soothing influences, and missals of joy and
strength, seemed sepulchred — and in her place a flint-featured,
miserly, and most intolerable step-mother, frowned upon the
luckless young artist. City life ! City starvation, rather she
found it, until a long and painful apprenticeship taught her the
priceless alchemy whereby smiling Plenty beamed upon her.
Reared on the outskirts of a country town, she longed for the
freedom and solitude of the old pine-woods at home, and sickened
at the thought of spending her life within the walls of brick and
mortar. She had selected an attic room, with dormer windows
looking eastward, and here she daily watched the pale gray
dawn struggle with the vapors and shadows of night. " Quiet
fields of crimson cirri," fleecy masses of restless, glittering cu
muli, or the sweep and rush of " inky-fringed" lowering rain-
clouds, alike charmed her. Long before the servants stirred below
she was seated at the window, noting the waning shimmer of
the Morning-Star as the waves of light rolled up and crested the
horizon, whitening the deep blue with their sparkling spray.
The peculiarities of each sunrise and sunset were jotted down
assiduously :

" Cloud- walls of the morning's grey

Faced with amber column,
Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn,"

were stretched with great care, and put aside for future use ; and
it rarely happened that, on a dull, rainy morning, she came down
to breakfast looking other than moody and disappointed, as
though her rights had been infringed, her privileges curtailed.
Constituted with keen susceptibility to impressions of beauty or
sublimity, whether physical, moral, or intellectual, Nature intend
ed her as a thing for sunshine and holidays, as a darling to be
petted ; but Fate shook her head, and, with a grimace, set the
tender young soul on a bleak exposure, to be hardened and in
vigorated.

With the characteristic fitfulness of consumption, Mr. Clifton

7*

154 MACAEIA; OB,

rallied, and, for a time, seemed almost restored ; but at the ap
proach of winter the cough increased, and dangerous symptoms
returned. Several months after the rejection of his suit, to
which no allusion had ever been made, Electra sat before her
easel, absorbed in work, while the master slowly walked up and
down the studio, wrapped in a warm plaid shawl. Occasionally
he paused and looked over her shoulder, then resumed his pace,
offering no comment. It was not an unusual occurrence for them
to pass entire mornings together without exchanging a word, and
to-day the silence had lasted more than an hour. A prolonged
fit of coughing finally arrested her attention, and, glancing up,
she met his sad gaze.

" This is unpropitious weather for you, Mr. Clifton."
" Yes, this winter offers a dreary prospect."
" There is the Doctor now, passing the window. I will come
back as soon as his visit is over." She rose hastily to quit the
room, but he detained her.

" Do not go — I wish you to remain, and finish your work."
Dr. Le Roy entered, and, after questioning his patient, stood
on the rug, warming his fingers.

" The fact is, my dear fellow, this is not the place for you. I
sent you south four years ago nearly, and saved your life ; and,
as I told you last week, you will have to take that same pre
scription again. It is folly to talk of spending the winter here.
I can do nothing for you. You must go to Cuba, or to Italy.
It is of no use to try to deceive you, Harry ; you know, just as
well as I do, that your case is getting desperate, and change of
climate is your last hope. I have told you all this before."

Electra laid down her pallette, and listened for the answer.

" I am sorry you think so, but I can't leave New York."

11 Why not ?"

" For various good reasons."

" My dear fellow, is your life of any value ?"

" A strange question, truly."

" If it is, quit New York in thirty-six hours ; if not, remain,
1 for various good reasons.7 Send to my office for an anodyne.
Better take my advice. Good-day."

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 155

Passing by tlfe easel, he whispered :

" Use your influence ; send him south." And then the two
were again alone.

Resting her chin in her hands she raised her eyes, and said :

" Why do yon not follow the Doctor's advice ? A winter
south might restore you."

He drew near, and, leaning his folded arms on the top of the
easel, looked down into her face.

" There is only one condition upon which I could consent to
go ; that is in your hands. Will you accompany me ?"

She understood it all in an instant, saw the new form in which
the trial presented itself, and her soul sickened.

" Mr. Clifton, if I were your sister, or your child, I would
gladly go ; but, as your pupil, I can not."

" As Electra Grey, certainly not ; but, as Electra Clifton,
you could go." «

" Electra Grey will be carved on my tombstone." .

" Then you decide my fate. I remain, and wait the slow ap
proach of death."

" No, before just Heaven 1 I take no such responsibility, nor
shall you thrust it on me. You are a man, and must decide
your destiny for yourself ; lam a poor girl, having no claim upon,
no power over you. It is your duty to preserve the life which
God gave you, in the way prescribed by your physician, and I
have no voice in the matter. It is your duty to go south, and
it will be both weak and wicked to remain here under existing
circumstances."

" My life is centred in you ; it is worthless, nay, a burden,
separated from you."

" Your life should be centred in something nobler, better ; in
your duty, in your profession. It is suicidal to fold your hands
listlessly, and look to me, as you do."

" All these things have I tried, and I am weary of their hol-
lowness, weary of life, and the world. So long as I have your
face here, I care not to cross my own threshold till friendly hands
bear me out to my quiet resting-place under the willows of
Greenwood. Electra, my darling, think me weak if you will,

*

156 MAC ART A ; OB,

but bear with me a little while longer, and then this, my shadow,
shall flit from your young heart, leaving not even a memory to
haunt yon. Be patient ! I will soon pass away, to another, a
more peaceful, blessed sphere."

A melancholy smile lighted his fair waxen features, as waning,
sickly sunshine in an autumn evening,. flickers over sculptured
marble in a silent church-yard.

How she compassioned his great weakness, as he wiped away
the moisture which, even on that cold day, glistened on his fore
head.

" Oh I I beseech you to go to Cuba. Go, and get strong
once more."

" Nothing will ever help me now. Sunny skies and soft
breezes bring no healing for me. I want to die here, in my
home, where your hands will be about me ; not among strangers,
in Cuba or Italy." »

He turned to the fire, and, springing up, she left the room.
The solemn silence of the house oppressed her ; she put on her
thickest wrappings, and took the street leading to the nearest
park. A steel-gray sky, with slowly-trailing clouds, looked down
on her, and the keen, chilly wind wafted a fine snow-powder in
her face as she pressed against it. The trees were bare, and the
sere grass grew hoary as the first snow-flake's of the season came
down softly and shroud-like. The walks were deserted, save
where a hurrying form crossed from street to street, homeward-
bound ; and Electra passed slowly along, absorbed in thoughts
colder than the frosting that gathered on shawl and bonnet. The
face and figure of the painter glided spectrally before her at
every step, and a mighty temptation followed at its heels. Why
not strangle her heart ? Why not marry him and bear his
name, if, thereby, she could make his few remaining months of
existence happy, and, by accompanying him south, prolong his
life even for a few weeks ? She shuddered at the suggestion, it
would be such a miserable lot. But then the question arose :
" Who told you that your life was given for happiness ? Do you
imagine your Maker set you on earth solely to hunt your own
enjoyment ? Suppose duty costs you pain and struggles ; is it

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 157

any the less duty ? Nay, is it not all the more urgent duty ?"
She knew that she could return to the artist, and, with one brief
sentence, pour the chrism of joy over his suffering soul ; and her
great compassion, mild-eyed, soft-lipped, tender-hearted, whisper
ed : Why not ? why not ?

" Nature owns no man who is not a martyr withal." If this
dictum possessed any value, did it not point to her mission ? She
could no longer shut her eyes and stumble on, for right in her
path stood an awful form, with austere lip and fiery eye, demand
ing a parley, defying all escape ; and calmly, she, stood face to
face with her Sphinx, considering her riddle. A young, mother
less girl, without the girding of a holy religion, a free, untamed
soul, yielding allegiance to no creed, hearkening only to the dic
tates of her tempestuous nature, now confronting the most an
cient immemorial Destroyer who haunts the highways of society.
Self-immolation, or a poisoning of the spring of joy in the heart
of a fellow-creature ? Was duty a Moloch, clasping its scorch
ing arms around its devotees ? — a Juggernaut, indeed, whose iron
wheels drank the life-blood of its victims ? " Will you see your
benefactor sink swiftly into an early grave, and, standing by with
folded arms, persuade yourself that it is not your duty to attempt
to save him, at all hazards ? Can nothing less than love ever sanc
tion marriage ?" Such was the riddle hurled before her, and, as
she pondered, the floodgates of her sorrow and jealousy were once
more lifted — the rush and roar of bitter waters drowned, for a
time, the accents of conscience and of reason.

But out of these fierce asphaltic waves arose, Aphrodite-like,
a pure, radiant, heavenly form — a child of all climes, conditions,
and ages — an immortal evangel ; and, as the piercing, sunny
eyes of womanly intuition looked upon the riddle, the stony linea
ments of the Sphinx melted into air. If womanly eyes rest on
this page the answer need not be traced here, for in every true
woman's heart the answer is to be found engraved in God's own
characters ; and, however the rubbish of ignoble motives may
accumulate, it can never obliterate the divine handwriting Ii<
the holiest oratory of her nature is enshrined an infallible talia
man, an segis, and she requires no other panoply in cLf lon^

158 MACARIA ; OB,

struggle incident to trials such as shook the stormy soul of the
young artist. Faster fell the snow-flakes, cresting the waves of
her hair like foam, and, setting her teeth firmly, as if thereby
locking the door against all compassionating compunctions, Elec-
tra left the park and turned into a cross-street, on which was sit
uated an establishment where bouquets were kept for sale. The
assortment was meagre at that late hour, but she selected a tiny
bunch of delicate, fragrant, hot-house blossoms, and, shielding
them with her shawl, hastened home. The studio was brilliant
with gas-glare, and warm with the breath of anthracite, but an
aspect of dreariness, silence, and sorrow predominated. The fig
ures in the pictures shrank back in their frames, the statues gleam
ed mournfully white and cold, and the emaciated form and face
of the painter, thrown into bold relief by the dark green lining
of the easy chair* seemed to belong to realms of death rather
than life. On the edge of the low scroll-sculptured mantle, sup
ported at each corner by caryatides, perched a large tame gray
owl, with clipped wings folded, and wide, solemn, oracular eyes
fastened on the countenance of its beloved master. A bronze
clock, of exquisite workmanship, occupied the centre, and repre
sented the Angel of Itevelations, " swearing by Him that liveth
for ever and ever, that Time should be no longer." One hand
held the open book, the other a hammer, which gave out the
hours with clear metallic ring ; and along the base, just under
neath the silver dial-plate, were carved, in German characters,
the words of Richter : " And an immeasurably extended ham
mer was to strike the last hour of Time, and shiver the universe
asunder."

With swift, noiseless steps Electra came to the red grate, and,
after a moment, drew an ottoman close to the easy chair. Per
haps its occupant slept ; perchance he wandered, with closed
eyes, far down among the sombre, dank crypts of memory. She
laid her cool fingers on his hand, and held the bouquet before
him.

" My dear sir, here are your flowers ; they are not as pretty
as usual, but sweet enough to atone for lack of beauty."

He fingered them caressingly, laid them against his hollow

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 159

cheeks, and hid his lips among their fragrant petals, but the star
ry eyes were fixed on the features of the pupil.

" It is bitter weather out ; did you brave it for these ? Thank
you, but don't expose yourself so in future. Two invalids in a
house are quite enough. You are snow-crowned, little one ; do
you know it ? The frosting gleams right royally on that black
hair of yours. Nay, child, don't brush it off ; like all lovely
things it fades rapidly, melts away like the dreams that flutter
"around a boy in the witchery of a long, still, sunny summer
day."

His thin hand nestled in her shining hair, and she submitted
to the touch in silence.

" My dove soared away from this dreary ark, and bathed her
silver wings in the free air of Heaven ; returning but to bring
me some grateful memorial, an olive-branch, wherewith to deck
this gloomy ark of mine. Next time she will soar farther, and
find a more tempting perch, and gladden Noah's eyes no more."

" If so, it will be becdlhse the high and dry land of God beck
ons her ; and when the deluge is ended, she will be needed no
longer."

" For, then, Electra, Noah's haven of rest will be the fair still
fields of Eternity."

In this serai-rnetaphoric strain he often indulged of late, but
she. felt little inclination to humor the whim, and, interlacing her
slight fingers, she answered, half impatiently :

" Your simile is all awry, sir. Most unfortunately, I have no
thing dove-like in my nature."

" Originally you had, but your character has been warped."

" By what, or whom ?"

" Primarily, by unhappy extraneous circumstances, influences
if you will, which contributed to a diseased development of two
passions, that now preponderate over all other elements of your
character."

" A diagnosis which I will not accept."

" A true one, nevertheless, my child."

" Possibly ; but we will waive a discussion just now. I am,
and always intend to be, true to the nature which God gave me."

160 MACAEIA; OK,

" A dangerous dogma that. Electra, how do you know that
the ' nature ' you fondle and plunie yourself upon, emanated from
your Maker ?"

" How do you know, sir, that God intended that willows
should droop, and trail their slender boughs earthward, while
poplars, like granite- shafts, shoot up, lifting their silver-shimmer
ing leaflets ever to the clouds ? Who fingered their germs, and
directed their course ?"

" The analogy will not hold between the vegetable kingdom*
and the moral and intellectual spheres. Men and women are
not cast in particular moulds, bound by iron laws, and labelled,

like plants or brutes, Genus , Species . Moreover, to

man alone was given free agency, even to the extent of uproot
ing, crushing entirely the original impulses implanted by God in
the human heart to act as motive power. I have known people
insane enough to pluck out the wheat, and culture, into rank lux
uriance, the tares in their nature. Child, do you ever look ahead
to the coming harvest-time ?" »

" If I do, it contents me to know that each soul binds up its
own sheaves."

" No ; angels are reapers, and make up the account for the
Lord of the harvest."

" I don't believe that. No third party has any voice in that
last, long-reckoning. God and the creature only see the balance
sheet."

She rose, and leaning against the mantel', put out her hand to
caress the solemn-eyed solitary pet of the studio. How he came
to be the solace and companion of the artist she had never been
told, but knew that a strange fellowship linked the gray old fa
vorite with the master, and wondered at the almost human
expression with which it sometimes looked from its lofty pedestal
upon the languid movements of the painter. " Munin" was the
name he ever recognized and answered to, and, when she one day
repeated it to herself, puzzling over its significance, Mr. Clifton
told her that it meant " memory," in Scandinavian lore, and be
longed to one of the favorite birds of Odin. It was one of his
many strange whims, fostered by life-long researches among the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 161

mythologies of the Old World : and Electra struggled to over
come the undefinable sensation of awe and repulsion which crept
over her whenever she met that fascinating stare fixed upon her.
As little love had the bird for her, and, though occasionally it
settled upon the cross-beam of her easel, and watched the slow
motion of her brush, they seemed to shrink from each other.
Now, as her soft hand touched his feathers, they rumpled, bristled,
and he flitted to the artist's knee, uttering a hoarse, prolonged,
<*most melancholy note, as the master caressed him.

"Why are not you and Munin better friends ?"

" Because I am not wise enough, or evil-boding in appearance,
or sufficiently owlish to suit himj I suppose. He chills my blood
sometimes, when I come here, in twilight, before the gas is lighted.
I would almost as soon confront Medusa."

She took from the curious oval mosaic table a ne>v book contain
ing her mark, and reseated herself. As she did so, Munin flapped
his dusky wings and disappeared through the door opening into
the hall, and, shading her face with one hand, she read aloud a
passage heavily underlined by a pencil.

" But this poor, miserable Me ! Is this, then, all the book I
have got to read about God in ? Yes, truly so. No other
book, nor fragment of book, than that will you ever find — no
velvet-bound missal, nor frankincensed manuscript ; nothing
hieroglyphic nor cuneiform ; papyrus and pyramid are alike silent
on this matter ; nothing in the clouds above, nor in the earth
beneath. That flesh-bound volume is the only revelation that is,
that was, or that can be. In that is the image of God painted;
in that is the law of God written ; in that is the promise of God
revealed. Know thyself ; for through thyself only thou canst
know God. Through the glass darkly ; but, except through the
glass, in no wise. A tremulous crystal, waved as water, poured
out upon the ground ; you may defile it, despise it, pollute it at
your pleasure, and at your peril ; for on the peace of those weak
waves must all ^he heaven you shall ever gain be first seen, and
through such purity as you can win for those dark waves must
all the light of the risen Sun of Brightness be bent down by faint
refraction. Cleanse them, and calm them, as you love your life."

162 MAC ARIA ; OR,

"Mr. Clifton, this epitomizes my creed. There is nothing
new in it ; I grant you it is old as the Delphian inscription.
Two thousand years ago Socrates preached it in the Agora, at
Athens. Now it shakes off its Greek apparel, and comes to this
generation encumbered in loosely-fitting English garments — im
memorial Truth peering through modern masks."

He regarded her with an expression of sorrowful tenderness,
and his hand trembled as he placed it upon her head.

" This darling creed, this infallible egotism of yours, will fail
you in the day of fierce trial. Pagan that you are, I know not
what is to become Of you. Oh, Electra ! if you would only be
warned in time."

The warmth of the room had vermilioned her cheeks, and the
long black lashes failed to veil in any degree the flash of the eyes
she raised to his face. Removing the hand from her head,
she took it in both hers, and a cold, dauntless smile wreathed
her lips.

" Be easy on my account. I am not afraid of my future.
Why should I be ? God built an arsenal in every soul before
he launched it on the stormy sea of Time, and the key to mine is
Will ! I am young and healthy ; the rich purple blood bubbles
through my veins like Chian wine-; and, with my heritage of
poverty and obscurity, I look fortune's favorites in the eye, and
dare them to retard or crush me. A vast caravan of mighty
souls, ' Whose distant footsteps echo down the corridors of Time/
have gone before me ; and step by step I tramp after. What
woman has done, woman may do ; a glorious sisterhood of
artists beckon me on ; what Elizabeth Cheron, Sibylla Merian,
Angelica Kauffman, Elizabeth Le Brun, Felicie Fauveau, and
Rosa Bonheur have achieved, I also will accomplish, or die in the
effort. These traveled no royal road to immortality, but rugged,
thorny paths ; and who shall stay my feet ? Afar off gleams my
resting place, but ambition scourges me unflaggingly on. Do
not worry about my future; I will take care of it, and of myself."

" And when, after years of toil, you win fame, even fame
enough to satisfy your large expectations, what then ? Whither
will you look for happiness ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 163

" I will grapple fame to my empty heart, as women do other
idols."

" It will freeze you, my dear child. Remember the mourn
ful verdict which Dante gave the world through the lips of
Oderigi :

" Cimabue thought

To lord it over painting's field : and now
The cry is Giotto's, and his name eclipsed.
Thus hath one Guide from the other snatched
The lettered prize : and he, perhaps, is born,
Who shall drive either from their nest. The noise
Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind,
That blows from divers points and shifts its name,
Shifting the point it blows from."

" And, Electra, that chill blast will wail through your lonely
heart, chanting a requiem over the trampled, dead hopes that
might have garlanded ypur life. Be warned, oh I daughter of
Agamemnon !

" The earth hath bubbles as the water hath,
And this is of them."

" At all events, I will risk it. Thank God ! whatever other
faults I confess to, there is no taint of cowardice in my soul."

She rose, and stood a moment on the rug, looking into the red
net-work of coals, then turned to leave him, saying :

" I must go to your mother now, and presently I will bring
your tea."

" You need not trouble. I can go to the dining-room to
night."

" It is no trouble ; it gives me great pleasure to do some
thmg for your comfort ; and I know you always enjoy your sup
per more when you have it here."

As she closed the door, he pressed his 'face against the moroc
co lining and groaned unconsciously, and large glittering tears,
creeping from beneath the trembling lashes, hid themselves in the
curling brown beard.

To see that Mrs. Clifton's supper suited her, and then to read
aloud to her for half an hour from the worn family Bible, was
part of the daily routine which Electra permitted nothing to in-

164: MACARTA ; OE,

terrupt. On this occasion she found the old lady seated, as
usual, before the fire, her crutches leaning against the chair, and
her favorite cat curled on the carpet at her feet. Most tenderly
did the aged cripple love her son's protegee, and the wrinkled,
sallow face lighted up with a smile of pleasure at her entrance.

" I thought it was about time for you to come to me. Sit
down, dear, and touch the bell for Kate. How is Harry ?"

" No stronger, I am afraid. You know this is very bad wea
ther for him."

" Yes ; when he came. up to-day I thought he looked more
feeble than I had ever seen him ; and, as I sit here and listen to
his hollow cough, every sound seems a stab at my heart." She
rocked herself to and fro for a moment, and added, mournfully :

" Ah, child ! it is so hard to see my youngest boy going down
to the grave before me. The last of five, I hoped he would survive
me, but consumption is a terrible thing ; it took my husband
first, then, in quick succession, my other children, and now Harry,
my darling, my youngest, is the last prey."

Anxious to divert her mind, Electra adroitly changed the con
versation, and, when she rose to say good-night, sometime after,
had the satisfaction of knowing that the old lady had fallen
asleep. It was in vain that she arranged several tempting dishes
on the table beside the painter, and coaxed him to partake of
them ; he received but a cup of tea from her hand, and motion
ed the remainder away. As the servant removed the tray he
looked up at his pupil, and said :

" Please wheel the lounge nearer to the grate ; I am too tired
to sit up to-night."

She complied at once, shook up the pillow, and, as he laid his
head upon it, she spread his heavy plaid shawl over him.

" Now, sir, what shall I read this evening ?"

" ' Arcana CcelestiaJ if you please."

She took up the volume, and began at the place he designated ;
and as she read on and on, her rich flexible voice rose and fell
upon the air like waves of melody. One of her hands chanced to
hang over the arm of the chair, and as she sat near the lounge,
thin hot fingers twined about it, drew it caressingly to the pillow,

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. It) 5

and held it tightly. Her first impulse was to withdraw it, and
an expression of annoyance crossed her features ; but, on second
thought, she suffered her fingers to rest passively in his. Now
and then, as she turned a leaf, she met his luminous eyes fastened
•upon her ; but after a time the quick breathing attracted her at
tention, and, looking down, she saw that he, too, was sleeping. She
closed the book and remained quiet, fearful of disturbing him ;
and as she studied the weary, fevered face, noting the march of
disease, the sorrowful drooping of the mouth, so indicative of
grievous disappointment, a new and holy tenderness awoke in her
heart. It was a feeling analogous to that of a mother for a suf
fering child, who can be soothed only by her presence and ca
resses — an affection not unfrequently kindled in haughty natures
by the entire dependence of ,a weaker one. Blended with this
was a remorseful consciousness of the coldness with which she had
persistently rejected, repulsed every manifestation of his devoted
love ; and, winding her fingers through his long hair, she vowed
an atonement for the past in increased gentleness for the remain
der of his waning life. As she bent over him, wearing her com
passion in her face, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

" How long have I slept ?"

" Nearly an hour. How do you feel since your nap ?"

He made no reply, and she put her hand on his forehead. The
countenance lighted, and he said, slowly :

" Ah ! yes, press your cool soft little palm on my brow. It
seems to still the throbbing of my temples."

" It is late, Mr. Clifton, and I must leave you. William look
ed in, a few minutes since, to say that the fire burned ill your
room, but I would not wake you. I will send him to you. Good
night."

She leaned down voluntarily and kissed him, and, with a quick
movement, he folded her to his heart an instant, then released
her, murmuring, huskily :

"God bless you, Electra, and reward you for your patient en
durance. Good-night, my precious child." -

She went to her room, all unconscious of the burst of emotion
which shook the feeble frame of the painter, long after she had

166

laid her head on her pillow in the sound slumber of healthful
youth.

CHAPTER XIY.

THE year that ensued proved a valuable school of patience,
and taught the young artist a gentleness of tone and quietude
of manner at variance with the natural impetuosity of her char
acter. Irksome beyond degree was the discipline to which she
subjected herself, but, with a fixedness of purpose that knew
no wavering, she walked through the daily dreary routine,
keeping her eyes upon the end that slowly but unmistakably
approached. In mid-summer Mr. Clifton removed, for a few
weeks, to the Catskill, and occasionally he rallied for a few
hours, with a tenacity of strength almost miraculous. During
the still s-unny afternoons hosts of gay visitors, summer tourists,
often paused in their excursions to watch the emaciated form
of the painter leaning on the arm of his beautiful pupil, or
reclining on a lichen carpeted knoll while she sketched the sur
rounding scenery. Increased feebleness prevented Mrs. Clifton
from joining in these out-door jaunts, and early in September,
when it became apparent that her mind was rapidly sinking
into imbecility, they returned to the city. Memory seemed to
have deserted its throne ; she knew neither her son nor Electra,
and the last spark of intelligence manifested itself in a semi-
recognition of her favorite cat, which sprang to welcome her
back as friendly hands bore her to the chamber she was to quit
no more till death released the crushed spirit. A letter was
found on the atelier mantle, directed to Electra in familiar
characters, which she had not seen for months. Very quietly
she put it in her pocket, and in the solitude of her room
broke the seal ; found that Russell had returned during her
absence, had spent a morning in the studio looking over her
work, and had gone south to establish himself in his native
town. Ah ! the grievous, grievous disappointment. A bitter

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 167

cry rolled from her lips, and the hands wrung each other
despairingly; but an hour later she stood beside the artist with
unruffled brow and a serene mouth, that bore no surface-token
of the sorrow gnawing at her heart. Winter came on earlier
than usual, with unwonted severity ; and, week after week,
Electra went continually from one sufferer to another, striving
to alleviate pain, and to kindle a stray beam of sunshine in the
darkened mansion. As one living thing in a charnel-house she
flitted from room to room, sometimes shrinking from her own
shadow, that glided before her on the polished wall as she
went up and down stairs in the dead of night. Unremitted vigil
set its pale, infallible signet on her face, but Mr. Clifton either
could not or would not see the painful alteration in her appear
ance ; and when Mrs. Young remonstrated with her niece upon
the ruinous effects of this tedious confinement to the house,
she only answered, steadily : " I will nurse him so long as I
have strength left to creep from one room to another."

During Christmas week he grew alarmingly worse, and Dr.
LeRoy counted the waning life by hours ; but on New Year's
eve he declared himself almost well, and insisted on being carried
to the studio. The whim was humored, and wrapped in his
silken robe de chambre, he was seated in his large cushioned
chair, smiling to find himself once more in the midst of his
treasures. Turning back the velvet cuff from his attenuated
wrist, he lifted his flushed face toward the nurse, and said,
eagerly : " Uncover my easel ; make William draw it close to
me ; I have been idle long enough.. Give me my palette ; I
want to retouch the forehead of my hero. It needs a high light."

" You are not strong enough to work. Wait till to-morrow."

" To-morrow ! to-morrow ! You have told me that fifty
times. Wheel tip the easel, I say. The spell is upon me, and
work I will."

It was the " ruling passion strong in death," and Electra
acquiesced, arranging the colors on the palette as he directed,
and selecting the brushes he required. Besting his feet upon
the crossbeam, he leaned forward and gazed earnestly upon his
master-piece, the darling design which had haunted his brain for

168 • MACAKIA ; OR,

years. " Theta" he called this piece of canvas, which was a
large square painting representing, in the foreground, the death
of Socrates. Around the reclining form of the philosopher
clustered Apollodorus,Cebes, Simmias, and Crito, and through the
window of the prison came the last slanting, quivering ray of the
setting sun, showing the street beyond, where, against the stone
wall, near a gleaming guardian Hermes, huddled a mournful
group — Xantippe and her weeping children. The details of the
picture were finished with pre-Raphaelite precision and minute
ness — the sweep and folds of drapery about the couch, the
emptied hemlock cup — but the central figure of the Martyr
lacked something, and to these last touches Mr. Clifton essayed
to address himself. Slowly, feebly, the transparent hand
wandered over the canvas, and Electra heard with alarm the
labored breath that came panting from his parted lips. She
saw the unnatural sparkle in his sunken eyes almost die out,
then leap up again, like smouldering embers swept by a sudden
gust, and in the clear strong voice of other years, he repeated
to himself the very words of Plato's Phcedo : " For I have
heard that it is right to die with good omens. Be quiet, there
fore, and bear up."

Leaning back to note the effect of his touches, a shiver ran
through his frame, the brush fell from his tremulous fingers, and
he lay motionless and exhausted.

Electra threw up the sash, that the wintry air might revive
him 5 and as the red glare of declining day streamed down from
the skylight upon the group, she looked from the easy chair to
the canvas, and mutely questioned : " Which is most thanatoid —
painter or painted ?"

Folding his hands like a helpless, tired child, he raised his
eyes to hers and said, brokenly :

" I bequeath it to you ; finish my work. You understand
me — you know what is lacking ; finish my ' Theta,' and tell
the world I died at work upon it. Oh ! for a fraction of my
old strength ! One hour more to complete my Socrates !
Just one hour ! I would ask no more."

She tried to persuade him to return to his own room, but he '

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 169

obstinately refused, and when she insisted, he answered, plead
ingly : No, no ; let me stay here. Do let me be quiet here. I
hate that gloomy, tomb-like room."

She gave him a powerful cordial which the physician had
left, and having arranged the pillows on the lounge, drew it
close to the easel, and prevailed on him to lie down.

A servant was despatched for Dr. LeRoy, but returned to
say that a dangerous case detained him .elsewhere.

" Mr. Clifton, would you like to have your mother brought
down stairs and placed beside you for a while T'

" No ; I want nobody but you. Sit down here close to me,
and keep quiet."

She lowered the heavy curtains, shaded the gas-globe, and,
placing a bunch of sweet violets on his pillow, sat down at his
side. His favorite spaniel nestled at her feet, and occasionally
threw up his head and gazed wistfully at his master. Thus two
hours passed, and as she rose to administer the medicine he
waved it off, saying :

" Give me no more of it. I won't be drugged in rny last hours
I won't have my intellect clouded by opiates. Throw it into the
fire, and let me rest."

" Oh, sir ! can I do nothing for you ?"

" Yes ; read to me. Your voice lulls me. Read me that
letter of lainblichus to Agathocles, which I marked last sum
mer."

She read it, and, without questioning, laid the book aside and
took up a volume of Jacob Behnien, of which he was very fond,
selecting, here and there, passages designated by pencil marks.
He had long revelled among the echoless abysses of dim, medi
eval mystical lore, and, strange as it may appear, the quaint old
books preserved their spell and riveted the wandering mind, even
on the verge of dissolution. She knew that Cornelius-Agrippa,
Theophrastus Paracelsus, and Swedenborg held singular mastery
over him ; but she shrank from all these now, as though they
had been bound in flames, and a yearning to comfort him from
the sacred lips of Jewish prophets and apostles took possession
of her. Passages which she had read to her blind aunt came

8

170 MACAKIA; OR,

back to her now, ringing trumpet-toned in her ears, and she rose
to bring a Bible from Mrs. Clifton's room.

11 Where are you going ?"

" To your mother's room, for a moment only. I want a book
which I left there."

" Sit still. Do not leave me, I beg of you." He drew her
back to the seat, and after a short silence said, slowly :

" Electra, are you afraid of death ?"

" No, sir."

" Do you know that I am dying ?"

" I have seen you as ill several times before."

" You are a brave, strong-hearted child ; glazed eyes and stiff
ened limbs will not frighten yon. I have but few hours to live ;
put your hand in mine, and promise me that you will sit here till
my soul quits its clay prison. Will you watch with me the death
of the year ? Are you afraid to stay with me, and see me die ?"

She would not trust herself to speak, but laid her hand in his
and clasped it firmly. He smiled, and added :

" Will you promise to call no one ? I want no eyes but yours
to watch me as I die. Let there be only you and me."

" I promise."

For some moments he lay motionless, but the intensity of his
gaze made her restless, and she shaded her face.

" Electra, my darling, your martyrdom draws to a close. I
have been merciless in my exactions, I know ; you are worn to
a shadow, and your face is sharp and haggard ; but you will for
give me all, when the willows of Greenwood trail their boughs
across my head-stone. You have been faithful and uncomplain
ing ; you have been to me a light, a joy, and a glory ! God
bless you, my pupil. There was a time when, looking at the fu
ture that stretched before you, I shuddered on your account.
Since then I have learned to know you better ; I feel assured
your nature will be equal to its trials. You can conquer difficul
ties, and, better still, you can work and live alone ; you can con
quer your own heart. I am passing to a higher, purer, happier
sphere ; but my spirit will hover constantly around you here, in
the midst of your work, overlooking you continually, as in the

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 171

days that have gone by. I have one request to make of you,
and unhesitatingly I make it : remain in this house, and watch
over my poor mother's last hours as you watched over and cheer
ed mine. It is a heavy burden to lay upon you ; but you have
patiently borne as heavy, and I have no fear that you will desert
her when the last of her sons sleep under marble. She will never
know that I have gone before her till we meet in another world.
In my vest-pocket is the key of my writing-desk. There you
will mid my will ; take charge of it, and put it in Le Roy's
hands as soon as possible. Give me some water."

She held the glass to his lips, and, as he sank back, a bright
smile played over his face.

" Ah, child ! it is such a comfort to have you here — you are
so inexpressibly dear to me,"

She took his thin hands in hers, and hot tears fell upon them.
An intolerable weight crushed her heart, a half-defined, horrible
dread, and she asked, falteringly :

" Are you willing to die ? Is your soul at peace with God ?
Have you any fear of Eternity ?"

" None, my child, none."

" Would you like to have Mr. Bailey come and pray for you ?"

" I want no one now but you."

A long silence ensued, broken only by the heavily drawn breath
of the sufferer. The memory of her aunt's tranquil death haunt
ed the girl, and, finally, the desire to direct his thoughts to God
triumphed over every other feeling. She sank on her knees be
side the lounge, and a passionate prayer leaped from her pale
lips. She had not prayed for nearly four years, and the petition
went up to God framed in strange, incoherent language — a plain
tive cry to the Father to release, painlessly, a struggling human
soul. His fingers clung spasmodically to hers, and soon after
the head sank on his chest, and she saw that he slept.

The glittering cortege of constellations moved solemnly on in
their eternal march through the fields of heaven, and in mid-sky
hung a moon of almost supernatural brightness, glaring down
through the sky-light like an inquisitorial eye. Two hours elaps-

172

eel ; the measured melancholy tick of the clock marked the ex
piring moments of the old year ; the red coals of the grate put
on their robe of ashes ; the gas-light burned dimly, and flickered
now and then as the wind surged through the partially opened
window ; and there by the couch sat the motionless watcher, not
ing the indescribable but unmistakable change creeping on, like
the shadow which slowly-sailing summer clouds cast down upon
green meadows or flowery hill-sides, darkening the landscape. The
feeble, thread-like pulse fluttered irregularly, but the breathing
became easy and low as a babe's, and occasionally a gentle sigh
heaved the chest. Once his lips had moved, and she caught the

indistinct words — " Discreet degrees " " influx "

" type-creature." She knew that the end was at hand, and a
strained, frightened expression came into her large eyes as she
glanced nervously round the room, weird and awful in its gloomy
surroundings. The damp masses of hair clung to her temples,
and she felt heavy drops gathering on her forehead, as in that
glance she met the solemn, fascinating eyes of Mania staring at
her from the low mantle. She caught her breath, and the deep
silence was broken by the metallic tongue that dirged out
" twelve." The last stroke of the bronze hammer echoed drearily ;
the old year lay stark and cold on its bier ; Munin flapped his
dusky wings with a long, sepulchral, blood-curdling hoot, and the
dying man opened his dim, failing eyes, and fixed them for the
last time on his pupil.

" Electra, my darling."

" My dear master, I am here. "

She lifted his head to her bosom, nestled her fingers into his
cold palm, and leaned her cheek against his brow. Pressing his
face close to hers, the gray eyes closed, and a smile throned itself
on the parted lips. A slight tremor shook the limbs, a soft shud-
cluring breath swept across the watcher's face, and the "golden
bowl " was shivered, the " silver cord" was loosed.

She sat there till the iciness of the rigid form chilled her, then
laid the head tenderly down on its pillow, and walked to the
mantle-piece. The Angel of Time lifted the hammer and struck

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 173

1 one ;" and as she glanced accidentally at the inscription on the
base, she remembered a favorite quotation which it had often
called from the cold lips of the dead painter :

t( Time is my fair seed-field, of Time I 'm heir."

The seed-time had ended ; the calm fields of eternity stretched
before him now ; the fruits of the harvest were required at his

hands. Were they full of ripe golden sheaves, or ? She

shrank from her own questioning, and looked over her shoulder
at the dreamless, smiling sleeper.

" His palms are folded on his breast :
There is no other thing expressed,
But long disquiet merged in rest."

The vigil was over, the burden was lifted from her shoulders,
the weary ministry here ended ; and shrouding her face in her
arms, the lonely woman wept bitterly.

CHAPTER XV.

FOUR years had wrought material changes in the town of

W ; new streets had been opened, new buildings erected,

new forms trod the side-walks, new faces looked out of shop-win
dows, and flashing equipages, and new shafts of granite and mar
ble stood in the cemetery to tell of many who had been gather
ed to their forefathers. The old red school-house, where two
generations had been tutored, was swept away to make place for
a railroad depot ; and, instead of the venerable trees that once
overshadowed its precincts, bristling walls of brick and mortar
rang with the shrill whistle of the engine, or the sharp continual
click of repairing-shops. The wild shout, the rippling laugh of
careless, childish glee were banished, and the frolicsome flock of
by-gone years had grown to manhood and womanhood, were se
date busines men and sober matrons. If important revolutions

174 MACAEIA ; OR,

had been effected in her early home, not less decided and appa
rent was the change which had taken place in the heiress of
Huntingdon Hill ; and having been eyed, questioned, scrutinized
by the best families, and laid in the social scale, it? was found a
difficult matter to determine her weight as accurately as seemed
desirable. In common parlance, " her education was finished "
— she was regularly and unmistakably " out." Everybody has
tened to inspect her, sound her, label her ; mothers to compare
her with their own daughters ; daughters to discover how much
they had to apprehend in the charms of the new rival ; sons to
satisfy themselves with regard to the truth of the rumors con
cerning her beauty ; all with curiosity stamped on their counte
nances ; all with dubiety written there at the conclusion of their
visit. Perfectly self-possessed, studiedly polite, attentive to all
the punctilios of etiquette, polished and irreproachable in de
portment, but cold, reticent, grave, indulging in no familiarities,
and allowing none ; fascinating by her extraordinary beauty and
grace, but tacitly impressing upon all, " Thus far, and no far
ther." Having lost her aunt two years before her return, the
duties of hostess devolved upon her, and she dispensed the hos
pitalities of her home with an easy though stately elegance, sur
prising in one so inexperienced. No positive charge could be
preferred against her by the inquisitorial circle ; even Mrs. Judge
Harris, the self-constituted, but universally acknowledged, auto
crat of beau monde in W , accorded her a species of negative

excellence, and confessed herself baffled, and unable to pronounce
a verdict. An enigma to her own father, it was not wonderful
that strangers knit their brows in striving to analyze her charac
ter, and ere long the cooing of carrier-pigeons became audible :
" Her mother had been very eccentric ; even before her death it
was whispered that insanity hung threateningly over her ; strange
things were told of her, and, doubtless, Irene inherited her pecu
liarities." Nature furnishes some seed with downy wings to in
sure distribution, and envy, and malice, and probably very inno
cent and mild-intentioned gossip, soon provided this report with
remarkable facilities for progress. It chanced that Dr. Arnold
was absent for some weeks after her arrival, and no sooner had

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 175

he returned than lie sought his quondam protege.. Entering un
announced, he paused suddenly as he caught sight of her stand
ing before the -fire, with Paragon at her feet. She lifted h£r
head and came to meet him, holding out both hands, with a
warm, bright smile.

" Oh, Dr. Arnold ! I am so glad to sec you once more. It
was neither friendly nor hospitable to go off jusr as I came
home, after long years of absence. I am very glad to see
you."

He held her hands and gazed at her like one in a dream of
mingled pain and pleasure, and when he spoke his voice was
unsteady.

" You can not possibly be as glad to see me as I am to have
you back. But I can't realize that this is, indeed, you my pet —
the Irene I parted with rather more than four years ago. Child,
what is it ? What have you done to yourself ? I called you
queen in your infancy, when you clung to my linger and tottered
across the floor to creep into my arms, but ten-fold more appro
priate does the title seem now. You are not the same Irene
who used to toil up my office steps, and climb upon the tallest
chair to examine the skeletons in my case — the snakes and liz
ards in my jars. Oh, child ! what a marvellous, what a glorious
beauty you have grown to be."

" Take care ; you will spoil her, Arnold. Don't you know,
you old cynic, that women can't stand such flattery as yours ?"
laughed Mr. Huntingdon.

" I am glad you like me, Doctor ; lam glad you think I have
improved ; and since you think so, I am obliged to you for ex
pressing your opinion of me so kindly. I wish I could return
your compliments, but my conscience vetoes any such proceed
ing. You look jaded — over-worked. What is the reason that
you have grown so gray and haggard ? We will enter into a
compact to renew the old life ; you shall treat me exactly as
you used to do, and I shall come to you as formerly, and inter
rupt labors that seem too heavy. Sit down and talk to me. I
want to hear your voice ; it is pleasant to my ears, makes music
in my heart, calls up the by-gone. You have adopted a stick in

176 -MACARIA; OR,

my absence ; I don't like the innovation ; it hurts me to think that
you need it. I must take care of you, I see, and persuade you
to relinquish it entirely."

" Arnold, I verily believe she was more anxious to see you
than everybody else in W except old Nellie, her nurse."

She did not contradict him, and the three sat conversing for
more than an hour ; then other visitors came in, and she with
drew to the parlor. The doctor had examined her closely all
the while ; had noted every word, action, expression ; and a
troubled, abstracted look came into his face when she left them.

" Huntingdon, what is it ? What is it ?"

" What is what ? I don't understand you."

" What has so changed that child ? I want to know what
ails her ?"

" Nothing, that I know of. You know that she was always
rather singular."

" Yes, but it was a different sort of singularity. She is too
still, and white, and cold, and stately. I told you it was a
wretched piece of business to send a nature like hers, so different
from everybody's else, off among utter strangers ; to shut up that
queer, free, untamed thing in a boarding-school for four years,
with hundreds of miles between her and the few things she
loved. She required very peculiar and skilful treatment, and,
instead, you put her off where she petrified ! I knew it would
never answer, and I told you so. You wanted to break her ob
stinacy, did you ? She comes back marble. I tell you now I
know her better than you do, though you are her father, and
you may as well give up at once that chronic hallucination of
1 ruling, conquering her.' She is like steel — cold, firm, brittle ; she
will break ; snap asunder ; but bend ! — never ! never I Hunting
don, I love that child ; I have a right to love her ; she has been
very dear to me from her babyhood, and it would go hard with
me to know that any sorrow darkened her life. Don't allow
your old plans and views to influence you now. Let Irene be
happy in her own way. Did you ever see a contented-looking
eagle in a gilt cage ? Did you ever know a leopardess kept in
a paddock, and taught to forget her native jungles ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 177

Mr. Huntingdon moved uneasily, pondering the unpalatable
advice.

" You certainly don't mean to say that she has inherited
." He crushed back the words ; could he crush the ap
prehension, too ?

" I mean to say that, if she were my child, I would be guided
by her, instead of striving to cut her character to fit the totally
different pattern of my own."

He put on his hat, thrust his hands into his pockets, stood for
some seconds frowning so heavily that the shaggy eyebrows met
and partially concealed the cavernous eyes, then nodded to the
master of the house, and sought his buggy. From that day
Irene was conscious of a keener and more constant scrutiny on
her father's part — a ceaseless surveillance, silent, but rigid — that
soon grew intolerable. No matter how she employed her time,
or whither she went, he seemed thoroughly cognizant of the de
tails of her life ; and where she least expected interruption or
dictation, his hand, firm though gentle, pointed the way, and his
voice calmly but inflexibly directed. Her affection had been in
no degree alienated by their long separation, and, through its
sway, she submitted for a time ; but Huntingdon blood ill
brooked restraint, and, ere long, hers became feverish, necessi
tating release. As in all tyrannical natures, his exactions grew
upon her compliance. She was allowed no margin for the exer
cise of judgment or inclination ; her associates were selected,
thrust upon her ; her occupations decided without reference to
her wishes. From the heartless, frivolous routine marked out,
she shrank in disgust ; and, painful as was the alternative, she
prepared for the clash which soon became inevitable. He wished
her to be happy, but in his own way, in accordance with his
views and aims, and, knowing the utter antagonism of taste and
feeling which unfortunately existed, she determined to resist.
Governed less by impulse than sober second thought and sound
reasoning, it was not until after long arid patient deliberation
that she finally resolved upon her future course, and steadily
maintained it. She felt most keenly that it was a painful, a la
mentable resolution, but none the less a necessity ; and, having

8*

178 MACAEIA ; OK,

once determined, she went forward with a fixedness of purpose
characteristic of her family. It was the beginning of a life-long
contest, and, to one who understood Leonard Huntingdon's dis
position, offered a dreary prospect.

From verbal differences she habitually abstained ; opinions
which she knew to be disagreeable to him she carefully avoided
giving expression to in his presence ; and, while always studiously
thoughtful of his comfort, she preserved a respectful deportment,
allowing herself no hasty or defiant words. Fond of pomp and
ceremony, and imbued with certain aristocratic notions, which an
ample fortune had always permitted him to indulge, Mr. Hunt
ingdon entertained company in princely style, and whenever an
opportunity offered. His dinners, suppers, and card-parties were
known far and wide, and Huntingdon Hill became proverbial for
hospitality throughout the state. Strangers were feted, and it
was a rare occurrence for father and daughter to dine quietly to
gether. Fortunately for Irene, the servants were admirably
trained ; and though this round of company imposed a weight of
responsibilities oppressive to one so inexperienced, she applied
herself diligently to domestic economy, and soon became familiar
ized with its details. Her father had been very anxious to provide
her with a skilful housekeeper, to relieve her of the care and
tedious minutia of such matters ; but she refused to accept one,
avowing her belief that it was the imperative duty of every
woman to superintend and inspect the management of her domes
tic affairs. Consequently, from the first week of her return, she
made it a rule to spend an hour after breakfast in her dining-room
pantry, determining and arranging the details of the day.

The situation of the house commanded an extensive and beau
tiful prospect, and the ancient trees that over-shadowed it im
parted a venerable and imposing aspect. The building was of
brick, overcast to represent granite, and along three sides ran a
wide gallery, supported by lofty, circular pillars, crowned with
unusually heavy capitals. The main body consisted of two
stories, with a hall in the centre, and three rooms on either side;
while two long single-storied wings stretched out right and left,
one a billiard-room, the other a green-house.

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 179

The parlors and library occupied one side, the first opening
into the green-house ; the dining-room and smoking-room were
correspondingly situated to the billiard-saloon. The frescoed
ceilings were too low to suit modern ideas ; the windows were
large, and nearly square ; the facings, sills, and doors all of ce
dar, dark as mahogany with age, and polished as rosewood. The
tall mantle-pieces were of fluted Egyptian black marble, and
along the freshly-tinted walls the elaborate arabesque moulding
or cornice hung heavy and threatening. A broad easy flight of
white marble steps led up to the richly-carved front door, with
its massive silver knocker bearing the name of Huntingdon in old-
fashioned Italian characters ; and in the arched niches, on either
side of this door, stood two statues, brought from Europe by
Mr. Huntingdon's father, and supposed to represent certain
Roman penatcs.

From the hall on the second floor, a narrow, spiral, iron stair
way ascended to a circular observatory on the roof, with a row
of small columns corresponding with those below, and a tessel
lated floor of alternating white and variegated squares of marble.
Originally the observatory had been crowned by a heavy, pago
da-shaped roof, but recently this had been removed and a cover
ing of glass substituted, which, like that of hot-houses, could be
raised and lowered at pleasure, by means of ropes and pulleys.
Two generations had embellished this house, and the modern
wings forming the cross had been erected within Irene's recollec
tion. In expectation of her return, an entirely new set of furni
ture had been selected in New York, and arraigned some weeks
before her arrival — costly carpets, splendid mirrors, plush and
brocatel sofas, rich china, and every luxury which wealth and
fastidious taste could supply. The grounds in front, embracing
several acres, were enclosed by a brick wall, and at the foot of
the hill, at the entrance of the long avenue of elms, stood a tall,
arched iron gate. A smoothly-shaven terrace of Bermuda grass
ran round the house, and the broad carriage-way swept up to a
mound opposite the door, surmounted by the bronze figure of a
crouching dog. On one side of the avenue a beautiful lawn,
studded with clumps of trees, extended to the wall ; on the otjier,

180 MACARIA ; OK,

serpentine walks, bordered with low hedges, carved flower-beds
of diverse shapes ; and here delicate trellis-work supported rare
creepers, and airy, elegant arbors and summer-houses were over
grown with vines of rank luxuriance. Everything about the
parterre, from the well-swept gravel walks to the carefully-clip
ped hedges, betokened constant attention and lavish expenditure
But the crowning glory of the place was its wealth of trees — the
ancient avenue of mighty elms, arching grandly to the sky like
the groined nave of some vast cathedral ; the circlet of sentinel
poplars towering around the house, and old as its foundations ;
the long, undulating line of venerable willows waving at the foot
of the lawn, over the sinuous little brook that rippled on its way
to the creek ; and, beyond the mansion, clothing the sides of a
steeper hill, a sombre back-ground of murmuring, solemn, imme
morial pines. Such was Irene's home — stately and elegant —
kept so thoroughly repaired that, in its cheerfulness, its age was
forgotten.

The society of W was considered remarkably fine.

There was quite an aggregation of wealth and refinement ; gen
tlemen, whose plantations were situated in adjacent counties, re
sided here, with their families ; some, who spent their winters on
the seaboard, resorted here for the summer ; its bar was said to
possess more talent than any other in the state ; its schools
claimed to be unsurpassed ; it boasted of a concert-hall, a lyce-
um, a handsome court-house, a commodious, well-built jail, and
half-a-dozen as fine churches, as any country town could desire.
I would fain avoid the term, if possible, but no synonym exists—
"W Was, indisputably, an "aristocratic" place.

Thus, after more than four years' absence, the summers of
which had been spent in travel among the beautiful mountain
scenery of the North, the young heiress returned to the home of
her childhood. Standing on the verge of nineteen, she put the
early garlanded years behind her and looked into the solemn
temple of womanhood, with its chequered pavement of light and
shadow ; its storied friezes, gilded -architraves, and fretted
shrines, where white-robed bands of devotees enter with uncer
tain step, all eager, trembling Mysttz, soon to become clear-eyed,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 181

sad-eyed Epoptw, through the unerring, mystical, sacred initia
tion of the only true hierophant — Time.

From her few early school associates she had become com
pletely estranged ; and the renewal of their acquaintance now
soon convinced her that the utter want of congeniality in char
acter and habits of life precluded the possibility of any warm
friendships between them. For several months after her return
she patiently, hopefully, faithfully studied the dispositions of the
members of various families with whom she foresaw that she
would be thrown, by her father's wishes, into intimate relation
ship, and satisfied herself that, among all these, there was not
one, save Dr. Arnold, whose counsel, assistance, or sympathy she
felt any inclination to claim. Human nature at least is, beyond
all cavil, cosmopolitan in its characteristics, (barring a few eth
nologic limitations) ; and a given number of men and women
similarly circumstanced in Chili, England, Madagascar, Utah, or
Burmah would, doubtless, yield a like quota of moral and intel
lectual idiosyncrasies. In fine, W was not in any respect

peculiar, or, as a community, specially afflicted with heartless-
ness, frivolity, brainlessness, or mammonism ; the average was
fair, reputable, in all respects. But, incontrovertibly, the girl
who came to spend her life among these people was totally dis
similar in criteria of action, thought, and feeling. To the stereo
typed conventional standard of fashionable life she had never
yielded allegiance ; and now stood (not in the St. Simon, Fou
rier, Owen, or Leroux sense) a social free-thinker. For a sea'
son she allowed herself to be whirled on by the current of din
ners, parties, and picnics ; but soon her sedate, contemplative
temperament revolted from the irksome round, and gradually she
outlined and pursued a different course, giving to her gay com
panions just what courtesy required, no more.

Hugh had prolonged his stay in Europe beyond the period
originally designated ; and, instead of arriving in time to accom
pany his uncle and cousin home, he did not sail for some months
after their return. At length, however, letters were received
announcing his presence in New York, and fixing the day when
his relatives might expect him.

182 MACAEIA; OR,

CHAPTER XVI.

THE carriage had been despatched to the depot, a servant
etood at the end of the avenue waiting to throw open the gate,
Mr. Huntingdon walked up and down the wide colonnade, und
Irene sat before the fire in her own room, holding in one palm
the flashing betrothal ring, which she had been forced to wear
since her return from New York. She had looked into the
rooms to see that all was bright and cheerful, had looped back
the curtains in the apartment prepared for Hugh, had filled the
vases with flowers that he preferred in his boyhood, and now
listened for his approach with complex emotions. The sole com
panion of her infancy, she would have hailed his arrival with un
mixed joy, but for the peculiar relationship in which she now
stood to him. The few years of partial peace had passed ; she
knew that the hour drew near when the long-dreaded struggle
must begin, and, hopeless of averting it, quietly waited for the
storm to break. Dropping the ring in her jewelry box, she
turned the key, and just then her father's voice rang through the
house.

" Irene ! the carriage is coming up the avenue."
She went slowly down stairs, followed by Paragon, and joined
her father at the door. His searching look discovered nothing
in the serene face ; the carriage stopped, and he hastened to meet
his nephew.

" Come at last, eh ! Welcome home, my dear boy."
The young man turned from his uncle, sprang up the steps,
then paused, and the cousins looked at each other.
" Well, Hugh ! I am very glad to see you once more."
She held out her hands, and he saw at a glance that her fin
gers were unfettered. Seizing them warmly, he bent forward,
but she drew back coldly, and he exclaimed :
" Irene ! I claim a warmer welcome."

She made a haughty, repellent gesture, and moved forward a
few steps, to greet the stranger who accompanied him.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 183

" My daughter, this is your uncle, Eric Mitchell, who has not
seen you since you were a baby."

The party entered the house, and, seated beside him, Irene
gazed with mingled emotions of pain and pleasure upon her mo
ther's only brother. He was about thirty, but looked older,
from life-long suffering ; had used crutches from the time he was
five years of age, having been hopelessly crippled by a fall dur
ing his infancy. His features were sharp, his cheeks wore the
sallow hue of habitual ill health, and his fine gray eyes were
somewhat sunken. Resting his crutches against the sofa, he
leaned back, and looked long and earnestly at his niece. Very
dimly he remembered a fair, flaxen-haired baby whom the nurse
had held out to be kissed when he was sent to Philadelphia to
be treated for his lameness ; soon after he heard of his sister's
death, and then his tutor took him to Europe, to command the
best medical advice of the old world.

" From the faint recollection which I have of your mother,
I think you strongly resemble her," he said, at last, in a fond,
gentle tone.

"I don't know about that, Eric. She is far more of a
Huntingdon than a Mitchell. She has many of the traits of
your family, but in appearance she certainly belongs to my
side of the house. She very often reminds me of Hugh's mo
ther.

Conversation turned upon the misfortune of the cripple ; he
spoke freely of the unsuccessful experiments made by eminent
physicians ; of the hopelessness of his case ; and Irene was par
ticularly impressed by the calmness and patience with which he
seemed to have resigned himself to this great affliction. She
could detect no trace of complaining bitterness, or, what was
still more to be deplored, the irritable, nervous querulousuess so
often observed in persons of his situation. She found him a
ripe scholar, a profound archaeologist, and philosophic observer
of his age and generation ; and deeply interested in his quiet,
low-toned talk, she felt irresistibly drawn toward him, careless of
passing hours and of Hugh's ill-concealed impatience of manner.
As they rose from the tea-table her cousin said laughingly :

184: MAC ART A ; OR,

" I protest against monopoly. I have not been able to say
three words to my lady-cousin."

"I yield the floor from necessity. My long journey has un
fitted me for this evening, and I must bid you all an early good-
nigh t."

" Can I do anything for you, uncle ?"

" No, thank you, Irene ; I have a servant who thoroughly
understands taking care of me. Go talk to Hugh, who has been
wishing me among the antipodes."

He shook hands with her, smiled kindly, and Mr. Huntingdon
assisted him to his room.

" Irene, come into the library and let me have a cigar."
" How tenacious your bad habits are, Hugh."
" Smoking belongs to no such category. My habits are cer
tainly quite as tenacious as my cousin's antipathies."

He selected a cigar, lighted it, and drawing a chair near hers,
threw himself into it with an expression of great satisfaction.
"It is delightful to get back home, and see you again, Irene.
I felt some regret at quitting Paris, but the sight of your face
more than compensates me."

She was looking very earnestly at him, noting the alteration
in his appearance, and for a moment his eyes drooped before
hers. She saw that the years had been spent, not in study, but
in a giddy round of pleasure and dissipation, yet the bright,
frank, genial expression of boyhood still lingered, and she could
not deny that he had grown up a very handsome man. She
knew that he was capable of sudden, spasmodic impulses of
generosity, but saw that selfishness remained the great sub
stratum of kis character, and her keen feeling of disappointment
showed her now how much she had hoped to find him changed
in this respect.

" Irene, I had a right to expect a warmer welcome than you
deigned to give me.

" Hugh, remember that we have ceased to be children. When
you learn to regard me simply as your cousin, and are satisfied
with a cousin's welcome, then, and not until then, shall you re
ceive it. Let childish whims pass with the years that have se-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE." 185

parated us ; rake up no germs of contention to mar this first
evening of your return. Be reasonable, and now tell me how
you have employed yourself since we parted ; what have you
seen ? what have you gleaned ?"

He flushed angrily, but the imperturbable face controlled
him, even against his will, and muttering something which she
thought sounded very much like an oath, he smoked for some
seconds in silence. Without noticing his sullenness, she made
some enquiries concerning his sojourn in Paris, and insensibly he
found himself drawn into a narration of his course of life. She
listened with apparent interest, making occasional good-humored
comments, and bringing him back to the subject whenever he
attempted a detour toward the topic so extremely distasteful to
her.

The clock struck eleven ; she rose and said :

" I beg your pardon, Hugh, for keeping you up so late. I
ought to have known that you were fatigued by railroad travel,
and required sleep. You know the way to your room ; it is the
same you occupied before you went to college. Good night ; I
hope you will rest well."

She held out her hand carelessly ; he took it eagerly, and
holding it up to the light said, in a disappointed tone :

" Irene, where is my ring ? Why are you not wearing it ?"

" It is in my jewelry box. As I gave you my reasons for
not wearing it, when you offered it to me, it is not necessary to
repeat them now. Good-night, Hugh ; go dream of something
more agreeable than our old childish quarrels." She withdrew
her fingers and left him.

As she entered her own room .and closed the door, she was
surprised to find her nurse sitting before the fire, with her chin
in her hands, and her keen black eyes fixed on the coals.

" Aunt Nellie, what are you sitting up so late for ? You will
have another spell of rheumatism, tramping about this time of
night."

" I have been to see Mass' Eric, blessed lamb that he always
was, and always will be. He is so changed I never would have
known him ; he was a weak, little white-faced cripple when I

180 MAC ARIA ; OR,

first saw him, twenty years ago. It seems like there is a curso
on your family anyhow, both sides. They died off, and have
been killed off, on your mother's side, till Mass' Eric is the only
one left of all the Mitchells, and, as for master's family, you and
Hugh are the two last. You know some families run out, and
don't think master ought to try to overturn the Lord's plans.
Queen, let things take their course."

" Who has put all this into your head ?"

" Nobody put it into my head ! I should like to know where
my eyes have been these many years ? I haven't been so near
blind all my life. Don't you suppose I know what master 's
been after since you were eighteen months old ? Was n't I
standing by the bed when Hugh's mother died, and did n't I hear
master promise her that, when you were grown, you and Hugh
should marry ? Don't I know how your poor dying mother cried,
and wrung her hands, and said ' Harm would come of it all,
and she hoped you would die while you were a baby ?' She
had found out what Huntingdon temper was. Poor blessed saint 1
what a life she did lead between Miss Margaret and Miss Isa
bella 1 It is no use to shut your eyes to it, Queen. You might
just as well look at it at once. It is a sin for near kin like you
and Hugh to marry, and you ought to set your face against it.
He is just his mother over again, and you will see trouble, as
sure as your name is Irene, if you don't take a stand. Oh !
they are managing people ? and the Lord have mercy on folks
they don't like, for it is n't in Huntingdon blood to forgive or to
forget anything. I am so thankful your uncle Eric has come, he
will help to stand between you and trouble. Ah ! it is coming,
Queen ! it 's coming ! You did n't see how your father frowned
when you would n't let Hugh kiss you ? I was looking through
the window and saw it all. I have n't had one hour's peace
Bince I dreamed of seeing you and your mother together. Oh,
my baby I my baby ! there is trouble and sorrow thickening for
you ; I know it. I have had a warning of it."

She inclined her head on one side, and rocked herself to and
fro, much as did early Pelasgic Dodonides in announcing oracu-
cular decrees.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 187

" You need not grieve about it ; I want no body to stand
between me and trouble. Beside, Nellie, you must remember
that, in all my father does, he intends and desires to promote
my welfare, and make me happy."

" Did he send you off to that boarding-school for your hap
piness ? You were very happy there, wern't you ? It is no use
to try to blindfold me ; I have lived a little too long. Oh, my
baby ! your white, white face, and big sorrowful blue eyes fol
low me clay and night ! I knew how it would be when you were
born. You came into this world among awful signs ! The sun
was eclipsed ! chickens went to roost, as if night had come ;
and I saw stars in the sky at two o'clock in the day 1 Oh ! I
thought, sure enough, judgment clay had come at last ; and
when they put you in my arms I trembled so I could hardly
stand. May God have mercy on you, Queen !"

She shuddered for a moment, as if in the presence of some
dread evil, and, rising, wrapped her shawl about her shoulders
and left the room.

Irene looked after her retreating form, smiling at the super
stitious turn her thoughts had taken, then dismissing the subject,
she fell asleep thinking of her uncle.

A week passed, varied by few incidents of interest ; the new
comers became thoroughly domesticated — the old routine was
re-established. Hugh seemed gay and careless — hunting, visit
ing, renewing boyish acquaintances, and whiling away the time
as inclination prompted. He had had a long conversation with
his uncle, and the result was that, for the present, no allusion
was made to the future. In Irene's presence the subject was
temporarily tabooed. She knew that the project was not relin
quished, was only veiled till a convenient season, and, giving to
the momentary lull its full value, she acquiesced, finding in Eric's
society enjoyment and resources altogether unexpected. In
stinctively they seemed to comprehend each other's character,
and while both were taciturn and undemonstrative, a warm
affection sprang up between them.

On Sunday morning, as the family group sat around the
breakfast-table waiting for Hugh, who lingered, as usual, over

188 MACARIA; OK,

his second cup of chocolate, Mr. Mitchell suddenly laid down the
fork with which he had been describing a series of geometrical
figures on the fine damask, and said : " I met a young man in
Brussels who interested me extremely, and in connection with
whom I venture the prediction that, if he lives, he will occupy a
conspicuous position in the affairs of his country. He is, or

was, Secretary of Mr. Campbell, our minister to , and

t icy were both on a visit to Brussels when I met them. His
name is Aubrey, and he told me that he lived here. His talents
are of the first order ; his ambition unbounded, I should judge ;
and his patient, laborious application certainly surpasses any
thing I have ever seen. It happened that a friend of mine, from
London, was prosecuting certain researches among the MS.
archives at Brussels, and here, immersed in study, he says he found
the secretary, who completely distanced him in his investigations,
anc1 \3n, with unexpected generosity, placed his notes at my
friend's disposal. His industry is almost incredible. Con
versing with Campbell concerning him, I learned that he was a
protege of"the minister, who spoke of his future in singularly
sanguine terms. He left him some time since to embark in the
practice of law. Do you know him, Huntingdon ?"

" No, sir ! but I know that his father was sentenced to the
gallows, and only saved himself from it by cutting his miserable
throat, and cheating the law."

The master of the house thrust back his chair violently, crush
ing one of Paragon's innocent paws as he crouched on the carpet,
and overturning a glass which shivered into a dozen fragments
at his feet.

Irene understood the scowl on his brow, but only she pos
sessed the clew, and, lazily sipping his chocolate, Hugh added :
" I recollect him very well as a boy ; he always had a bookish look,
and I met him one day on the boulevard at Paris. He was
talking to an attache of the American Legation as I came up,
and took no more notice of me than if I had been one of the
paving-stones. I could not avoid admiring the cool sublimity of
his manner, and, as I had snubbed him at school long ago, I put
out my hand, and said : ' Howdy-do, Aubrey ; pray, when did

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 189

you cross the water ?' He bowed as frigidly as Czar Nicholas,
and, without noticing my hand, answered : ' Good-morning, Mr.
Seymour ; I have been in Europe two years/ and walked on.
The day after I got home I met him going up the court-house
steps, and looked him full in the face ; he just inclined iris head,
and passed me. Confound it I he 's as proud as if he had found
a patent of nobility in digging among Belgic archives."

" Nature furnished him with one, many years since," replied
Eric.

" Yes ; and his coat-of-arms should be jack-ketch and a gal
lows 1" sneered Mr. Huntingdon.

Looking at his watch, he said, as if wishing to cut the con
versation short :

" Irene, if you intend to go to church to-day, it is time that
you had your bonnet on. Hugh, what will you do with your
self ? Go with Eric and your cousin ?"

" No, I rather think I shall stay at home with you. After
European cathedrals, our American churches seem excessively
plain." Irene went to her room,1 pondering the conversation.
She thought it remarkable that, as long as she had been at home,
she had never seen Russell, even on the street.

Unlocking her writing-desk, she took out a tiny note which
had accompanied a check for two hundred dollars, and had
reached her a few months before she left boarding school. The
firm, round, manly hand ran as follows :

" With gratitude beyond all expression for the favor conferred
on my mother and myself, some years since, I now return to
Miss Huntingdon the money which I have ever regarded as a
friendly loan. Hoping that the future will afford me some
opportunity of proving my appreciation of her great kindness,
" I remain, most respectfully,
" Her obliged friend,

" RUSSELL AUBREY.
" NEW YORK, September 5tb."

She was conscious of a feeling of regret that the money had
been returned ; it was pleasant to reflect on the fact that she

190 MAC ARIA ; OK,

had laid him under obligation ; now it all seemed cancelled. She
rclocked the desk, and, drawing on her gloves, joined her uncle
at the carriage. Her father accompanied her so 1'arely that she
scarcely missed him, and during the ride, as Eric seemed abstract
ed, she leaned back, and her thoughts once more reverted to the
unfortunate topic of the breakfast-table. Arriving at church
later than was her wont, she found the family pew occupied by
strangers, and crossed the aisle to share a friend's, but at that
instant a tall form rose in Mr. Campbell's long vacant pew, step
ped into the aisle, and held open the door. She drew back to
suffer her uncle to limp in and lay aside his crutches, saw him
give his hand to the stranger, and, sweeping her veil aside as she
entered, she saw Russell quietly resume his seat at the end of
the pew. ^

Startled beyond measure, she looked at him intently, and al
most wondered that she recognized him, he had changed so ma
terially since the day on which she stood with him before his mo
ther's gate. Meantime the service commenced, she gave her
hymn-book to her uncle, and at the same moment Russell found
the place, and handed her one of two which lay near him. As
ie received it their eyes met, looked fixedly into each other, and
she held out her hand. He took it, 'she felt his lingers tremble
as they dropped hers, and then both faces bent over the books.
When they knelt side by side, and the heavy folds of her elegant
dress swept against him, it seemed a feverish dream to her ; she
could not realize that, at last, they had met again, and her heart
beat so fiercely that she pressed her hand upon it, dreading lest
he should hear its loud pulsations. Lowering her veil, she drew
her costly velvet drapery about her and leaned back : and the
anthem was chanted, the solemn organ-tones hushed themselves,
the minister stood up in the pulpit, and his dull tones fell on her
car and brain meaningless as the dry patter of dying leaves in an
autumn wind. The outline of that tall, broad-shouldered, mag
nificently-turned figure, replete with vigorous muscular strength ;
the massive, finely-formed head, easily, gracefully poised, like that
of a statue ; above all, the olive-pale, proud face, unshaded by
beard, with regular features sharply yet beautifully cut, like

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 191

those in the rare gems which Benvenuto Cellini left the world,
greeted her now, turn which way she would. The coat was but
toned to the throat, the strong arms were crossed over the deep
chest, the piercing black eyes raised and fastened on the pulpit .
It has been well said : " The eyes indicate the antiquity of tho
soul, or through how many forms it has already ascended." If so,
his seemed brimful of destiny, and ceons old, in that one Ion g un
veiling look which they had exchanged ; deep, sparkling, and yet
indescribably melancholy, something in the expression vividly re
calling the Beatrice Cenci ; then all analogy was baffled. Elec-
tra knew wherein consisted their wonderful charm, and because
she put these eyes on canvas connoisseurs studied and a.pplaud-
ed her work. Now face and figure, cold and unrelenting', stamp
ed themselves on Irene's memory .~ indelibly as those which la
borious, patient lapidaries carve on coral or cornelian. The dis
course was ended, the diapason of the organ swelled through
the lofty church, priestly hands hovered like white doves over
the congregation, dismissing all with blessing. Once more Irene
swept back the rich lace veil, fully exposing her face ; once more
her eyes looked into those of the man who politely held the pew
door open ; both bowed with stately grace, and she walked down
the aisle. She heard Russell talking to her uncle just behind her,
heard the inquiries concerning his health, the expression of plea
sure at meeting again, the hope which Eric uttered that he

should see him frequently during his stay in W . Without

even a glance over her shoulder, she proceeded to the carnage,
where her uncle soon joined her, taking the front seat instead of
sharing the back one, as is customary. He scrutinized his niece's
countenance, but it baffled him, as on the first night of his arri
val ; the serene, colorless face .showed not the slightest symptom
of emotion of any kind. Neither spoke till they approached the
cottage on the road-side, then she extended her hand and said,
indifferently :

" Your European acquaintance, the quondam secretary, for
merly lived in that little three-roomed house hid among the vines
yonder."

" When I spoke of him this morning, you did not mention hav-

192 MACAKIA ; OE,

ing known him. I inferred from your manner that he was a
stranger to you."

" He is a stranger now. I knew him long ago, when we were
children, and met him to-day for the first time in some years."

" There is something peculiarly commanding in his appearance.
He impresses me with respect and involuntary admiration, such
as no man of his age ever excited before, and I have traveled
far and wide, and have seen the lordliest of many lands."

" Years have greatly changed him. He is less like his mo
ther than when I knew hin^in his boyhood."

" He is an orphan, I learned from Campbell."

" Yes."

She pulled the check-cord, and, as the driver stopped, she
leaned out of the window, pointing to a mossy tuft on the mar
gin of the little brook just at the foot of the hill.

" Andrew, If you are not afraid to leave your horses, get me
that cluster of violets just this side of the sweet-gum tree. They
are the very earliest I have seen."

He gathered them carefully and placed them in the daintily-
gloved, out-stretched hand. She bent over them an instant, then
divided the tiny bunch with her uncle, saying :

" Spring has opened its blue eyes at last."

She met his searching gaze as calmly as the flowerets, and as
they now neared the house he forbore any further allusion to the
subject, which he shrewdly suspected engaged her thoughts quite
as fully as his own.

CHAPTER XYII.

" IRENE, it is past midnight."
She gave no intimation of having heard him.
" Irene, my child, it is one o'clock."

Without looking up, she raised her hand toward the clock on
the mantel, and answered, coldly :

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 193

" You need not sit up to tell me the time of night ; I have a
clock here. Go to sleep, uncle Eric."

He rested his shoulder against the door-facing, and, leaning on
his crutches, watched her.

She sat there just as he had seen her several times before, with
bar arms crossed on the table, the large .celestial globe drawn
near, astronomical catalogues scattered about, and a thick folio
open before her. She wore a loose wrapper, or robe de chambre,
of black velvet, lined with crimson silk and girded with a heavy
cord and tassel. The sleeves were very full, and fell away from
the arms, exposing them from the dimpled elbows, and rendering
their pearly whiteness more apparent by contrast with the sable
hue of the velvet, while the broad round collar was pressed
smoothly down, revealing the polished turn of the throat. The
ivory comb lay on the table, and the unbound hair, falling
around her .shoulders, swept over the back of her chair and
trailed on the carpet. A miracle of statuesque beauty was his
queenly niece, yet he could not look at her without a vague feel
ing of awe, of painful apprehension ; and, as he stood watching
her motionless figure, in its grand yet graceful pose, he sighed
involuntarily. She rose, shook back her magnificent hair, and
approached him. Her eyes, so like deep, calm azure lakes,
crossed by no ripple, met his, and the clear, pure voice echoed
through the still room.

" Uncle Eric, I wish you would not sit up on my account ; I
do not like to be watched."

" Irene, your father forbade your studying until this hour.
You will accomplish nothing but the ruin of your health."

" How do you know that ? Do statistics prove astronomers
short-lived ? Rather the contrary. I commend you to the con
templation of their longevity. Good-night, uncle ; starry dreams
to you."

" Stay, child ; what object have you in view in all this labori
ous investigation ?"

" Are you sceptical of the possibility of a devotion to science
merely for science-sake ? Do my womanly garments shut me
out of the Holy of Holies, debar me eternally from sacred

9

194 MACAEIA; OK,

arcana, think you ? Uncle Eric, once for all, it is not my aim
to—

•brush with extreme flounce

The circle of the sciences."

I take my heart, my intellect, my life, and offer all upon the altar
of its penetralia. You men doubt women's credentials for work
like mine ; but this intellectual bigotry and monopoly already
trembles before the weight of stern and positive results which
women lay before you — data for your speculations — alms for
your calculation. In glorious attestation of the truth of female
capacity to grapple with some of the most recondite problems of
science stand the names of Caroline Herschel, Mary Somervillc,
Maria Mitchell, Emma Willard, Mrs. Phelps, and the proud
compliment paid to Madame Lepaute by Clairant and Lalande,
who, at the successful conclusion of their gigantic computations,
declared : ' The assistance rendered by her was such that, with
out her, we never should have dared to undertake the enormous
labor in which it was necessary to calculate the distance of each
of the two planets, Jupiter and Saturn, from the comet, separ
ately for every degree, for one hundred and fifty years.' Uncle
Eric, remember —

-Whoso cures the plague,

Though twice a woman, shall be called a leech ;

Who rights a land's finances, is excused

For touching coppers, though her hands be white."

She took the volume she had been reading, selected several
catalogues from the mass, and, lighting a small lamp, passed her
uncle and mounted the spiral staircase leading to the observatory.
He watched her tall form slowly ascending, and, in the flashing
light of the lamp she carried, her black dress and floating hair
seemed to belong to some veritable Urania — some ancient
Egyptic Berenice. He heard her open the glass door of the ob
servatory, then the flame vanished, and the click of the lock fell
down the dark stairway as she turned the key. With a heavy
sigh the cripple returned to his room, there to ponder the singu
lar character of the woman whom he had just left, and to dream

ALTAI? S OF SACRIFICE. 195

that he saw her transplanted to the constellations, her blue eyes
brightening into stars, her waving hair braiding itself out into
brilliant rushing comets. The night was keen, still, and cloudless,
and, as Irene locked herself in, the chill from the marble tiles crept
through the carpet to her slippered feet. In the centre of the
apartment rose a wooden shaft bearing a brass plate, and to this a
telescope was securely fastened. Two chairs and an old-fashioned
oaken table, with curious carved legs, comprised the furniture.
She looked at the small side-rial clock, and finding that a quar
ter of an hour must elapse before she could make the desired ob
servation, drew a chair to the table and seated herself. She
took from the drawer a number of loose papers, and prepared
the blank book for registering the observation ; then laid before
her a slate covered with figures, and began to run over the cal
culation. At the close of fifteen minutes she placed herself at
the telescope, and waited patiently for the appearance of a small
star which gradually entered the field ; she noted the exact mo
ment and position, transferred the result to the register, and after
a time went back to the slate and figures. Cautiously she went
over the work, now and then having recourse to pen and paper ;
she reached the bottom of the slate and turned it over, moving
one finger along the lines. The solution was wrong ; a mistake
had been made somewhere ; she pressed her palm on her fore
head, and thought over the whole question ; then began again.
The work was tedious, the calculation subtle, and she attached
great importance to the result ; the second examination wa^s
fruitless as the first ; time was wearing away ; where could tho
error be ? "^'thout hesitation she turned back for the third
time, and coi menced at the first, slowly, patiently threading the
maze. Suddenly she paused and smiled ; there was the mistake,
glaring enough, now. She corrected it, and working the sum
through, found the result perfectly accurate, according fully with
the tables of Leverrier by which she was commuting. She care
fully transferred the operation from slate to paper, and, after
numbering the problem with great particularity, placed all in the
drawer, and turned the key. It was three o'clock ; she opened
the door, drew her chair out on the little gallery, and sat down,

196

looking toward the cast. The air was crisp but still, unswayed
by current waifs ; no sound swept its crystal waves save the low,
monotonous distant thunder of the falls, and the deep, cloudless
blue ocean of space glowed with its numberless argosies of stel
lar worlds. Constellations which, in the purple twilight, stood
sentinel at the horizon, had marched in majesty to mid-heaven,
taken reconuoisance thence, and as solemnly passed the opposite
horizon to report to watching gazers in another hemisphere.
" Scouts stood upon every headland, on every plain ;" merciless
ly the inquisitorial eye of science followed the heavenly wander
ers ; there was no escape from the eager, sleepless police who
kept vigil in every clime and country ; as well call on Bootes to
give o'er his care of Ursa-Major, as hopelessly attempt to thrust
him from the ken of Cynosura. From her earliest recollection,
and especially from the hour of entering school, astronomy and
mathematics had exerted an over-mastering influence upon Irene's
mind. The ordinary text-books only increased her interest in
the former science, and while in New York, with the aid of the
professor of astronomy, she had possessed herself of all the most
eminent works bearing upon the subject, sending across the At
lantic for tables and selenographic charts, which were not to be
procured in America.

Under singularly favorable auspices she had pursued her stu
dies perseveringly, methodically, and, despite her father's prohi
bition, indefatigably. He had indulged, in earlier years, a pen
chant for the same science, and cheerfully facilitated her progress
by rearranging the observatory so as to allow full play for her
fine telescope ; but, though proud of her proficiency, he objected
most strenuously to her devoting so large a share of her time
and attention to this study, and had positively interdicted all ob
servations after twelve o'clock. Most girls patronize certain
branches of investigation with fitful, spasmodic vehemence, or
periodic impulses of enthusiasm ; but Irene knew no intermission
of interest, she hurried over no details, and, when the weather
permitted, never failed to make her nightly visit to the observa
tory. She loved her work as a painter his ca*nvas, or the sculp
tor the marble one day to enshrine his cherished ideal ; and she

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 197

prosecuted it, not as a mere pastime, not as a toy, but as a life
long labor, for the labor's sake. To-night, as her drooping
palms nestled to each other, and her eyes searched the vast jew
elled dome above, thought, unwearied as the theme it pondered,
flew back to the dim gray dawn of Time, " When the morning-
stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy."
In panoramic vision she crossed the dusty desert of centuries,
and watched with Chaldean shepherds the pale, sickly light of
waning moons on Shinar's plains ; welcomed the gnomon (first
born of the great family of astronomic apparatus) ; toiled over
and gloried in the Zaros ; stood at the armillary sphere of Ju,
in the days of Confucius ; studied with Thales, Anaximander, and
Pythagoras ; entered the sacred precincts of the school of Cro-
tona, kand in hand with Damo, the earliest woman who bowed
a devotee at the starry shrine, and, with her, was initiated into
its esoteric doctrines ; puzzled with Meton over his lunar cycle ;
exulted in Hipparchus' gigantic labor, the first collection of ta
bles, the earliest reliable catalogues ; walked through the Alex
andrine school of savans, misled by Ptolemy ; and bent with
Uliegh Beigh over the charts at Saniarcaud. In imagination
she accompanied Copernicus and Tycho-Brahe, and wrestled with
Kepler in the Titanic struggle that ended in the discovery of the
magnificent trinity of astronomic laws framed by the Divine
Architect when the first star threw its faint shimmer through the
silent wastes of space. Kepler's three laws were an unceasing
wonder and joy to her, and with fond, womanly pride she was
wont to recur to a lonely observatory in Silesia, where, before
Newton rose upon the world, one of her own sex, Maria Cunitz,
launched upon the stormy sea of scientific literature the " Ura
nia Propitia." The Congress of Lilienthal possessed fur more
of interest to her than any which ever sat in august council over
the fate of nations, and the names of Herschel, Bessel, Argelan-
der, Struve, Arago, Leverrier, and Maedler were sacred as Per
sian telefin. From the "Almagest" of Ptolemy, and the " Co-
metographie of Piugre," to the " Mecanique Celeste," she had
searched and toiled ; and now the sublime and almost bewilder
ing speculations of Maedler held her spell-bound. The delicate,

198

subtle, beautiful problem of parallax liarl heretofore exerted the
strongest fascination over her ; but this magnificent hypothesis
of a " central sun," from the monarch of computations at Dor-
pat, seized upon her imagination with painful tenacity. From
the hour when Kepler stretched out his curious fingers, feeling
for the shape of planetary orbits, or Leverrier groped through
abysses of darkness for the unknown Neptuna, which a sceptical
world declared existed only in his mathematical calculations, no
such daring or stupendous speculation had been breathed as this
which Maedler threw down from his Russian observatory. Night
after night she gazed upon the pleiades, singling out Alcyone,
the brilliant central sun of the mighty astral system, whose light
met her eager eyes after the long travel of five hundred and thir
ty-seven years ; and, following in the footsteps of the great
speculator, she tried to grasp the result, that the period of one
revolution of our sun and system around that glittering centre
was eighteen million two hundred thousand years.

The stony lips of geology asserted that our globe was growing
old, thousands of generations had fallen asleep in the bosom of
mother earth, the ashes of centuries had gathered upon the past,
were creeping over the present ; and yet, in the face of cata
combs, and mummies, and mouldering monuments, chiseled in the
infancy of the human race, mathematics unrolled her figured
scroll, and proclaimed that Time had but begun ; that chiliasms
must elapse, that aeons on aaons must roll away, before the first
revolution of the starry universe could be completed about its
far-off Alcyone centre. What mattered human labors, what
need of trophies of genius, of national grandeur, or individual
glory ? Eighteen millions of years would level all in one huge,
common, shapeless ruin. In comparison with the mighty
mechanism of the astral system, the solar seemed a mere tiny
cluster of jewels set in some infinite abyss ; the sun shrank into
insignficance, the moon waned, the planets became little gleam
ing points of light, such as her diamond ring threw off when held
under gas-chandeliers. Perish the microcosm in the limitless
macrocosm, and sink the feeble earthly segregate in the bound
less, rushing, choral aggregation ! She was oppressed by the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 199

stupendous nature of the problem ; human reason and imagina
tion reeled under the vastncss of the subject which they essayed
to contemplate and measure ; and to-night as she pondered in
silent awe the gigantic, overwhelming laws of God's great Cos
mos, by some subtle association there flashed upon her memory
the sybillic inscription on the Temple of Neith at Sais : " I am all
that has been, all that is, all that will be. No mortal has ever rais
ed the veil which conceals me ; and the fruit I have produced is
the sun." Had Maedler, with telescopic insight, climbed by
mathematical ladders to the starry adyta of nature, and triumph
antly raised the mystic veil ? With a feeling of adoration which
no language could adequately convey, she gazed upon nebulae,
and suns, and systems ; and with the solemn reflection that some,
like Cassiopeia's lost jewel, might be perishing, wrapped in the
last conflagration, while their light still journeyed to her, she
recalled the feverish yet sublime vision of the great German
dreamer : " Once we issued suddenly from the middle of thickest
night into an aurora borealis — the herald of an expiring world —
and we found throughout this cycle of solar systems, that a day
of judgment had indeed arrived. The suns had sickened, and
the planets were heaving, rocking, yawning in convulsions ; the
subterraneous waters of the great deeps were breaking up, and
lightnings that were ten diameters of a world in length ran along
from zenith to nadir ; and, here and there, where a sun should have
been, we saw, instead, through the misty vapor, a gloomy, ashy-
leaden corpse of a solar body, that sucked in flames from the

perishing world, but gave out neither light nor heat

Then came eternities of twilight that revealed but were not
revealed ; on the right hand and on the left towered mighty
constellations, that by self-repetitions and answers from afar,
that by counter-positions built up triumphal gates, whose
architraves, whose archways — horizontal upright — rested, rose
at altitude by spans — that seemed ghostly from infinitude.
Without measure were the architraves, past number were the
archways, beyond memory the gates. Suddenly, as thus we
rode from infinite to infinite, and tilted over abyssmal worlds, a
mighty cry arose, that systems more mysterious, that worlds

200 MACAEIA J OR,

more billowy, other heights and other depths, were coming, were
ncaring, were at hand. Then the angel threw up his glorious
hands to the heaven of heavens, saying : ' End is there none to
the universe of God. Lo ! also, there is no beginning !' "

Among the mysteries of the Crotona school the Saniian sage
had taught the " music of the spheres," and to-night Irene dwelt
upon the thought of that grand choir of innumerable worlds, that
mighty orchestra of starry systems,

" Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise*'

unceasingly to the Lord of glory, till her firm lips relaxed, and
the immortal words of Shakspeare fell slowly from them :

" Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold ;
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.
Such harmony is in immortal souls ;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.''

That the myriad members of the shining archipelago were peo
pled with orders of intelligent beings, differing from our race
even as the planets differ in magnitude and physical structure,
she entertained not a doubt ; and as feeble fancy struggled to
grasp and comprehend the ultimate destiny of the countless hosts
of immortal creatures, to which our earthly races, with their dis
tinct, unalterable types, stood but as one small family circle amid
clustering worlds, her wearied brain and human heart bowed
humbly, reverently, worshipingly before the God of Revelation,
who can " bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the
bands of Orion ; bring forth Mazzaroth in his season, and guide
Arcturus with his sons." Kneeling there, with the twinkling
%ht of stars upon her up-turned face, she prayed earnestly for
strength, and grace, and guidance from on High, that she might
so live and govern herself that, when the season of earthly pro
bation ended, she could fearlessly pass to her eternal home, and
joyfully meet the awful face of Jehovah.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 201

The night was almost spent ; she knew from the " celestial
clock-work" that Day blushed just^behind the horizon ; that, ere
long, silver-gray fingers would steal up the quiet sky, parting the
sable curtains ; and, taking the lamp, she hung the observatory
key upon her girdle, and glided noiselessly down the stairway to
her own apartment.

Paragon slept on the threshold, and raised his head to greet
her ; she stooped, stroked his silky ears, and closed the door,
shutting him out. Fifteen minutes later she, too, was sleeping
soundly ; and an hour and a half afterward, followed by that
faithful guardian " dweller of the threshold" she swept down the
steps, and, amid the matin chant of forest birds, mounted Erebus,
and dashed off at full gallop for the customary ride. No matter
what occurred to prevent her sleeping, she invariably rode be
fore breakfast when the weather permitted ; and as her midnight
labors left few hours for repose, she generally retired to her
room immediately after dinner and indulged in the luxury of a
two hours' nap. Such was a portion of the regimen she had pre
scribed for herself on her return from school, and which she suf
fered only the inclemency of the weather to infringe.

CHAPTER XYIII.

" SURELY, uncle Eric, there is room enough in this large, airy
house of ours to accommodate my mother's brother ! I thought
it was fully settled that you were to reside with us. There is no
good reason why you should not. Obviously, we have a better
claim upon you than anybody else ; why doom yourself to the
loneliness of a separate household ? Reconsider the matter."

" No, Irene ; it is better that I should have a quiet little
home of my own, free from the inevitable restraints incident to
residing under the roof of another. My recluse nature and ha
bits unfit me for the gay young associates who throng this
house, making carnival-time of all seasons."

9*

202

" I will change the library, and give you two rooms on this
floor, to avoid stair-steps ; I will build you a wall of partition,
and have your doors and windows hermetically sealed against
intrusion, j^o sound of billiard-ball, or dancing feet, or noisy
laughter shall invade your sanctuary. Not St. Simeon, of isola
ted memory, could desire more complete seclusion and solitude
than that with which I shall indulge you."

" It is advisable that I should go."

" I appreciate neither the expediency nor necessity."

" Like all other crusty, self-indulgent bachelors, I have many
whims, which I certainly do not expect people to bear pa
tiently."

" You are neither crusty nor self-indulgent, that I have disco
vered ; as for your whims, I have large charity, and will humor
them."

" Irene, I want a house of my own, to which I can feel privi
leged to invite such guests, such companions, as I deem conge
nial, irrespective of the fiats of would-be social autocrats, and the
social ostracism of certain cliques."

She was silent a moment, but met his keen look without the
slightest embarrassment, and yet when she spoke he knew, from
her eyes and voice, that she fully comprehended his meaning.

" Of course, it is a matter which you must determine for your
self. You are the best judge of what conduces to your happi
ness ; but I am sorry, very sorry, uncle Eric, that, in order to
promote it, you feel it necessary to remove from our domestic
circle. I shall miss you painfully."

" Pardon me, but I doubt the last clause. You lean on no
one sufficiently to note the absence of their support."

" Do you recognize no difference between a parasitic clinging
and an affectionate friendship, a valued companionship based on
congenial tastes and sympathies ?"

" Unquestionably, I admit and appreciate the distinction ;
but you do not meet me full-eyed, open-handed, on this common
platform of congeniality, strengthened as it is, or should be, by
near relationship. You confront me always with your emotional
nature mail-clad, and make our intercourse a mere intellectual

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 203

fencing-match. Now, mark yon, I have no wish to force your
confidence ; that is a curious and complex lock, which only the
golden key of perfect love and trust should ever open ; and I sim
ply desire to say that your constitutional reticence or habitual
reserve precludes the hope of my rendering you either assistance
or sympathy by my continued presence."

" Uncle Eric, it arises from no want of trust in you, but ir.
the consciousness that only I can help myself. I have mon
than once heard you quote Walleustein ; have you so soon for
gotten his words :

" ' Permit her own will.
For there are sorrows.
Where, of necessity, the soul must be
Its own support. A strong heart will rely
On its own strength alone.' ''

" But, my dear girl, you certainly are no Thekla ?"

Was there prescience in his question, and a quick recognition
of it in the quiver which ran across her lips and eyelids ?

" The fates forbid that I should ever be I"

" Irene, in the name and memory of your mother, promise me
one thing ; that if sorrows assail you, and a third party can
bear aught on his shoulders you will call upon me."

" A most improbable conjunction of circumstances ; but, in
such emergency, I promise to afflict you with a summons to
the rescue. Uncle Eric, I think I shall never gall any shoulders
but my own with the burdens which God may see fit to lay on
them -in the coming years."

He looked pained, puzzled and irresolute ; but she smiled, and
swept her fingers over the bars of her bird-cage, toying with its
golden-throated inmate.

" Have you any engagement for this morning ?"

" None, sir. What can I do for you ?"

" If you feel disposed, I shall be glad to have you accompany
me to town ; I want your assistance in selecting a set of china
for my new home. Will you go ?"

A shadow drifted over the colorless tranquil face, as she said,
sadly :

MACARIA ; OB,

" Uncle Eric, is it utterly useless for me to attempt to per
suade you to relinquish this project, and remain with us 1"

11 Utterly useless, my dear child."

" I will get my bonnet, and join you at the carriage."

Yery near the cottage formerly occupied by Mrs. Aubrey
stood a small brick house, partially concealed by poplar and sy
camore trees, and surrounded by a neat, well arranged, flower-
garden. This was the place selected and purchased by the crip
ple for his future home. Mr. Huntingdon had opposed the
whole proceeding, and invited his brother-in-law to reside with
him ; but beneath the cordial surface the guest felt that other
sentiments rolled deep and strong. He had little in common
with his sister's husband, and only a warm and increasing affec
tion for his niece now induced him to settle in W . Some

necessary repairs had been made, some requisite arrangements
completed regarding servants, and to-day the finishing touches
were given to the snug little batchelor establishment. When it
was apparent that no arguments would avail to alter the de
cision, Irene ceased to speak of it, and busied herself in various
undertakings to promote her uncle's comfort. She made pretty
white curtains for his library windows, knitted bright-colored
worsted lamp-mats, and hemmed and marked the contents of the
linen-closet. The dining-room pantry she took under her special
charge, and at the expiration of ten days, when the master took
formal possession, she accompanied him, and enjoyed the pleased
surprise with which he received her donation of cakes, preserves,
catchups, pickles, etc., etc., neatly stowed away on the spotless
shelves.

" I shall make a weekly pilgrimage to this same pantry, and
take an inventory of its contents. I intend to take good care of
you, though you have moved off, Diogenes-like."

She stepped forward, and arranged some glass jars which
stood rather irregular.

" How prim and old-maidish you are 1" laughed her uncle.

" I never could bear to see things scattered in that helter-
skelter style ; I like bottles, jars, plates and dishes drilled into
straight lines not leaning in and out, in that broken rank fashion.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 205

I am not given to boasting, but I will say that no housekeeper
can show a nicer, neater pantry than my own."

" What have you in that basket ?"

" Flowers from the green-house. Come into the library, and
let me dress your new vases."

He followed her into the next room, and watched her as slio
leisurely and tastefully disposed her flowers ; now searching the
basket for a sprig of ever-green, and now bending obstinate stems
to make stiff clusters lean lovingly to each other. Placing the
vases on the mantle, she stepped back to inspect the effect, and
said, gravely :

" How beautiful they are ! Let me always dress your vases,
uncle. Women have a knack of intertwining stems and group
ing colors ; our fingers were ordained for all such embroidery on
the coarse gray serge of stern, practical every-day life. Yon
men are more at home with state papers, machine shops, navies,
armies, political economy, and agricultural chemistry, than with
fragile azaleas and golden-dusted lilies." Before he could reply
she turned, and asked :

" What do those large square boxes in the hall contain ?"

" Books which I gathered in Europe and selected in New
York ; among them many rare old volumes, which you hava
never seen. Come down next Monday, and help me to number
and shelve them ; afterward, we will read them together. Lay
aside your bonnet, and spend the evening with me."

" No, I must go back ; Hugh sent me word that he would
bring company to tea."

He took her hand, and drew her close to his chair, saying,
gently :

"Ah, Irene ! I wish I could keep you always. You would
be happier here, in this little unpretending home of mine, than
presiding as mistress over that great palatial house on the hill
yonder."

" There you mistake me most entirely. I love, better than
any other place on earth, my stately, elegant, beautiful home.
Not Fontainebleau, Windsor, Potsdam ; not the vineyards of
Shiraz, or the gardens of Damascus, could win me from it. I

206 MAC ART A ; OK,

love every tree, every creeper, every foot of ground from tho
front gate to the brink of the creek. If you suppose that I am
not happy there, you err egregiously."

" My intuitions rarely deceive me."

" At least, uncle Eric, they play you false in this instance.
Why, sir, I would not give my grand old avenue of primeval
elms for St. Peter's nave. Your intuitions are full of cobwebs ;
have them well swept and dusted before I see you Monday.
Good-night, uncle ; I must really go. If you find we have for
gotten anything, send Willis up for it."

He kissed her fingers tenderly, and, taking her basket, she left
him alone in his new home.

A few weeks passed without incident ; Hugh went to New
Orleans to visit friends, and Mr. Huntingdon was frequently ab
sent at the plantation.

One day he expressed the desire that Judge Harris' family
should dine with him, and added several gentlemen, " to make
the party merry." Irene promptly issued the invitations, sup
pressing the reluctance which filled her heart ; for the young
people were not favorites, and she dreaded Charlie's set speeches
and admiring glances, not less than his mother's endless disquisi
tions on fashion and the pedigree of all the best families of

W and its vicinage. Grace had grown up very pretty,

highly accomplished, even-tempered, gentle-hearted, but full of
her mother's fashionable notions, and, withal, rather weak and
frivolous. She and Irene were constantly thrown into each oth
er's society, but no warmth of feeling existed on either side.
Grace could not comprehend her companion's character, and
Irene wearied of her gay, heedless chit-chat. As the latter an
ticipated, the day proved very tiresome ; the usual complement
of music was contributed by Grace, the expected quantity of
flattering nothings gracefully uttered by her brother, the custo
mary amount of execrable puns handed around the circle for pat
ronage, and Irene gave the signal for dinner. Mr. Huntingdon
prided himself on his fine wines, and, after the decanters had cir
culated freely, the gentlemen grew garrulous as market-women.

Irene was gravely discussing the tariff question with Mr. Her-

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 207

bert Blackwell (whom Mrs. Harris pronounced the most prom
ising young lawyer of her acquaintance), and politely listening
to his stereotyped reasoning, when a scrap of conversation at the
opposite end of the table attracted her attention.

" Huntingdon, my dear fellow, I tell you I never made a mis
take in my life, when reading people's minds ; and if Aubrey has

not the finest legal intellect in W , I will throw up my

judgeship. You have seen Campbell, I suppose ? He returned
last week, and, by the way, I half-expected to meet him to-day ;
well, I was talking to him about Aubrey, and he laughed his
droll, chuckling laugh, snapped his bony fingers in my face, and
said :

" Aye ! aye, Harris, let him alone ; hands off ! and I will
wager my new office against your old one that he steps into your
honor's shoes. Now you know perfectly well that Campbell has
no more enthusiasm than a brick wall, or a roll of red tape ; but
he is as proud of the young man as if he were his son. Do you
know that he has taken him into partnership ?"

" Pshaw ! he will never commit such & faux pas."

" But he has ; I read the notice in this morning's paper. Pass
the madeira. The fact is, we must not allow our old prejudices
to make us unjust. I know Aubrey has struggled hard ; he had
much to contend ."

" Hang Campbell and the partnership ! He will find that he
has played the fool, before he gets rid of his precious pet. Miss
Grace, do let me fill your glass ? My young prude there at the
head of the table just sips hers as if she feared it was poisoned.
Mrs. Harris, you have no sherry ; permit me."

" The young man's antecedents are most disgraceful, Mr.
Huntingdon, and I told the judge last night that I was surprised
at Mr. Campbell's infatuation," chimed in Mrs. Harris over her
golden sherry.

"Whose antecedents, mother ?"

" My dear, we were speaking of Russell Aubrey, and the stig
ma on his name and character."

" Oh, yes ! His father was sentenced to be hung, I believe,
and committed suicide in prison. But what a splendid, dark-

208 MACARIA ; OK,

looking man lie is ! Decidedly the most superb figure and eyes

in \\r . Shy, though ! shy as a school-girl ; will cross

the street to avoid meeting a body. "When he finds that he can
not dodge you, he gives you the full benefit of his magnificent
eyes, and bows as haughtily as Great Mogul. Maria Henderson
goes into raptures over his figure."

With head slightly inclined, and eyes fixed on Mr. BlackwelPs
face, Irene had heard all that passed, and as the gentleman
paused in his harangue to drain his glass, she rose and led the
way to the parlors. The gentlemen adjourned to the smoking-
room, and in a short time Mrs. Harris ordered her carriage,
pleading an engagement with Grace's mantua-maker as an ex
cuse for leaving so early. With a feeling of infinite relief the
hostess accompanied them to the door, saw the carriage descend
the avenue, and, desiring one of the servants to have Erebus sad
dled at once, she went to her room and changed the rich dinner-
dress for her riding-habit. As she sprang into the saddle, and
gathered up the reins, her father called from the open window,
whence issued curling wreaths of blue smoke :

" Where now, Irene ?"

" I am going to ride ; it threatened rain this morning, and I
was afraid to venture."

He said something, but without hearing she rode off, and was
soon out of sight, leaving the town to the left, and taking the
road that wound along the river-bank — the same where, years
before, she had cantered with Grace, Hugh, and Charlie. It
was a windless, sunny April afternoon ; trees were freshly robed
in new-born fringy foliage, green and glistening ; long grassy
slopes looked like crinkled velvet, starred with delicate pale blue
houstonias ; wandering woodbine trailed its coral trumpets in
and out of grass and tangled shrubs, and late wood azaleas load
ed the air with their delicious, intoxicating perfume. Irene felt
unwontedly depressed ; the day had wearied her ; she shook the
reins, and the beautiful horse sprang on in a quick gallop. For
a mile farther they dashed along the river bank, and then rein
ing him up, she leaned forward and drew a long, deep breath.
The scene was surpassingly quiet and beautiful ; on either side

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 209

wooded hills came down, herd-like, to the edge of the stream to
lave their thirsty sides, and listen to the continual solemn mono
tone of the foaming falls ; here a small flock of sheep browsed on
the young waving grass, and there contented-looking cows, with
glossy satin skins, sauntered homeward, taking the road with as
much precision as their Swiss sisters to the tune of Ranz des
Vaches ; the broad river sweeping down its rocky pavement,
and, over all, a mellow April sky of intense blue, with whiifs of
creamy vapor, sinuous as floss silk. Close to the margin of the
river grew a luxuriant mass of ivy, and now the dark shining
foliage was flecked with tiny rosy buds, and well-blown waxen
petals, crimped into fairy-like cups, and tinted as no Sevres china
ever will be. Urging Erebus into the thicket, Irene broke as
many clusters as she could conveniently carry ; dragged a long
tangled wreath of late jasmine from its seclusion, fastened it
across the pommel of the saddle, and turned her horse's head
homeward. The sight of these ivy cups recalled the memory of
her aunt Margaret ; they had been her favorite flowers, and, as
thought now took another channel, she directed her way to the
grave-yard. She always rode rapidly, and, ere long, Erebus'
feet drew sparks from the rocky road leading up the hill-side to
the cemetery gate. Dismounting, she fastened the reins to one
of the iron spikes, and, gathering the folds of her habit over her
arm, carried her flowers to the family burying ground. It was
a large square lot, enclosed by a handsome railing and tall gate,
bearing the name of "Huntingdon" in silver letters. As she
approached, she was surprised to find a low brick wall and beau
tiful new marble monument close to her father's lot, and occu
pying a space which had been filled with grass and weeds a few
weeks previous. While she paused, wondering whose was the
new monument, and resolved to examine it, a tall form stepped
from behind the column, and stood, with folded arms, looking
down at the grave. There was no mistaking face or figure ; evi
dently he was unaware of her presence, though she was near
enough to mark the stern sorrow written on his countenance.
She glided forward and opened the heavy gate of her own en
closure ; with difficulty she pushed it ajar, and with a sudden,

2 j.0 MAC ARIA ; OR,

sharp, clanging report it swung back, and the bolt slid to its
rusty place. He lifted his eyes then, and saw her standing a few
yards from him ; the rich soft folds of the Maria Louise blue
riding-dress trailed along the ground ; the blue velvet hat, with
its long drooping plume, had become loosened by the exercise,
and, slipping back, left fully exposed the dazzling white face and
golden glory of waving hair. She bowed, he returned the silent
token of recognition, and she moved forward to her aunt's tomb,
wreathing it with the flowers which Miss Margaret had loved so
well. The sun was low, leaning upon the purple crest of a dis
tant hill ; the yellow light flashed over the forest of marble pil
lars, and their cold polished surfaces gave back the waning glare,
throwing it off contemptuously, as if sunshine were a mockery in
that silent city of the dead. Sombre sacred guardian cedars ex
tended their arms lovingly over the marble couches of fair young
sleepers in God's Acre, and venerable willows wept over many
a stela, whose inscription lichen-footed Time had effaced. Here
slept two generations of the lluntingdons, and the last scion of
the proud old house stood up among the hoarded bones of her
ancestry, glancing round at the moss-stained costly mausoleums,
and noting the fact that the crowded lot had room for but two
more narrow beds — two more silent citizens — her father and her
self. It was a reflection which she had little inclination to linger
over, and, retaining a beautiful cluster of ivy and jasmine, she
left the enclosure, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground.

As she passed the new lot the gate swung open, and Russell
stood before her.

" Good evening, Miss Huntingdon."

" Good evening, Mr. Aubrey."

The name sounded strange and harsh as she uttered it, and
involuntarily she paused and held out her hand. He accepted
it ; for an instant the cold fingers lay in his warm palm, and as
she withdrew them he said, in the rich mellow voice which she
had heard in the church :

" Allow me to show you my mother's monument."

He held the gate open, and she entered and stood at his side.
The monument was beautiful in its severe simplicity — a pure,..

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 211

faultless shaft, crowned with a delicately chiselled wreath of pop
py leaves, and bearing these words in gilt letters : " Sacred to
the memory of my mother, Amy Aubrey." Just below, iu black
characters, " Resurgam ;" and, underneath the whole, on a
finely-fluted scroll, the inscription of St. GKlgcn. After a silence
of some moments Russell pointed to the singular and solemn
words, and said, as if speaking rather to himself than to her :

"I want to say always, with Paul Flemming, 'I will be
strong/ and therefore I placed here the inscription which
proved an evangel to him, that when I come to my mother's
grave I may be strengthened, not melted, by the thronging of
bitter memories."

She looked up as he spoke, and the melancholy splendor of the
deep eyes stirred her heart as nothing had ever done before.

" I have few flowers left ; let me lay them as an affectionate
tribute, an ' in memoriam'1 on your mother's tomb — for the
olden time, the cottage days, are as fresh in my recollection as
in yours."

She held out the woodland bouquet ; he took it, and strewed
the blossoms along tire broad base of the shaft, reserving only a
small cluster of the rosy china cups. Both were silent ; but as she
turned to go, a sudden gust blew her hat from her head, the
loosened comb fell upon the grass, and down came the heavy
masses of hair. She twisted them hastily into a coil, fastened
them securely, and received her hat from him, with a cool :

" Thank you, sir ; when did you hear from Electra ?"

They walked on to the cemetery gate, and he answered :

" I have heard nothing for some weeks. Have you any mes
sage ? I am going to New York in a few days to try to per
suade her to return to W with m.'."

" I doubt the success of your mission ; W has little to

tempt an artist like your cousin. Be kind enough to tender her
my love, and best wishes for the realization of her artistic
dreams."

They had reached the gate where Erebus waited, when Rus
sell took off his hat reverently, and pointed to the western sky
all " a flame." Masses of purple, scarlet, gold, amber, and pure

212

paio opaline green blended in one magnificent conflagration ; and
toward the zenith tortuous feathery braids and flashes of blood-
red cirri, gleaming through the mild balmy air like coral reefs
in some breezeless oriental sea.

" ]STo soft, neutral, sober ' Graia^ there/ " said Irene, lifting
her hand to the glowing cloud-panorama.

He took up the question promptly, and added :

" ' The Angel of the Sea' is abroad on his immemorial mis
sion, the soft wings droop still with dew, and the shadows of
their plumes falter on the hill ; strange laughings and glitterings
of silver streamlets, born suddenly and twined about the mossy
heights in trickling tinsel, answering to "them as they wave. The
coiled locks of ' hundred-headed Typlion ' leave no menace
yonder."

He paused, and turning suddenly, with a piercing look at his
companion, continued :

" Miss Huntingdon, ' on what anvils and wheels is the vapor
pointed, twisted, hammered, whirled as the potter's clay ? By
what hands is the incense of the sea built up into domes of
marble ?> "

"I see that you follow assiduously the beck of Nature's last
anointed hierophant, and go in and out with the seer, even
among the cherubim and seraphim of his metropolitan cathedral,
with its ' gates of rock, pavements of cloud, choirs of stream,
altars of snow, and vaults of purple, traversed by the continual
stars.' "

" Yes ; I am a reverent student and warm admirer of John
Huskin. I learned to love him first through the recommenda
tion of my cousin ; then for Ms gorgeous, unapproachable word-
painting."

While they talked, the brilliant pageant faded, the coral banks
paled to snowy lines, as if the blue waves of air were foam-
crested, and in the valley below rose the dusky outline of the
dark-haired, wan-browed, gray-clad twilight, stealing her "sober
livery" over the flushed and fretted bosom of the murmuring
river.

" You have a long walk to town," said Irene, as Russell ar
ranged her horse's reins.

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 213

11 1 shall not find it long. It is a fine piece of road, and the
stars will be up to light it."

He held out his hand to assist her ; she sprau^jsasily to the
saddle, then leaned toward him, every statue-like curve and
moulding of her proud ivory face stamping themselves on his re
collection, as she spoke.

" Be so good as to hand me my glove ; I dropped it at yowr
feet as I mounted. Thank you. Good evening, Mr. Aubrey ;
take my best wishes on your journey and its mission."

" Good-by, Miss Huntingdon." He raised his hat, and, as
she wheeled off, the magnetic handsome face followed, haunted
her. Erebus was impatient, out of humor, and flew up the next
steep hill as if he, too were haunted. Glancing back as she
reached the summit, Irene saw the erect, stern, solitary figure
at the extremity of the wooded vista, and in that mystical dun
light he looked a colossal avenging Yiking.

Once more, as in childhood, she heard the whirl of the loom
of destiny ; and to-night, catching sight of the Parcrc fingers,
she knew that along the silver warp of her life ran dark alien
threads, interweaving all in one shapeless tangled web.

On through gathering gloom dashed horse and rider, over the
little gurgling stream, through the gate, up the dark, rayless
avenue to the door-step. The billiard-room was a blaze of light,
and the cheerful sound of mingled voices came out at the open
window, to tell that the gentlemen had not yet finished their game.
Pausing in the hall, Irene listened an instant to distinguish the
voices, then ascended the long easy stair-case. The lamp threw
a mellow radiance on the steps, and as she reached the landing
Hugh caught her in his arms, and kissed her warmly. Startled
by his unexpected appearance, she recoiled a step or two and
asked, rather haughtily :

" When did you get home ?"

" Only a few moments after you left the house. Do change
your dress quickly, and come down. I have a thousand things
to say."

She waited to hear no more, but disengaged herself and went
to her room.

214:

" Now, cbild ! why will you do so? What makes you stay
out so late, and then come thundering back like a hurricane ? I
never did like that horse's great big saucy, shining, devilish eyes. I
tell Andrew constantly I wish he would manage to break his
legs while he is jumping over all the fences on the place. You
scare me nearly to death about your riding ; I tell you, beauty,
that black satan will break your neck yet. Your grandfather
was flung from just such a looking brute, and dragged till he
was dead ; and some day that everlasting long hair of yours will
drag you to your grave. Here it is now, all streaming down
your back ; yes— just as I expected — not a blessed hair-pin left
in it ; done galloped 'em all clean out. You will ride yourself
into eternity. Sit down, and let me comb it out ; it is all in a
tangle, like raveled yellow silk."

Nellie looked cloudy, moody, and her mistress offered no
resistance to her directions.

" Mas' Hugh's come."

"Yes ; I know it."

" But you don't know supper is almost ready, do you ? Pre
sently you will hear your father's voice sounding like a brass
trumpet down stairs, if you ar'n't ready. There ! John rings
that bell as if he had the dead to raise I'j

" That will do, aunt Nellie, only give me a handkerchief."

She went down, and met her father at the dining room door.

" Come, Queen ; we are waiting for you."

He looked at her fondly, took her hand, and drew her to the
table ; and, in after years, she recalled this occasion with mourn
ful pleasure as the last on which he had ever given her his pet

name.

'* . . . There are fatal days, indeed,
In which the fibrous years have taken root
So deeply, that they quiver to their tops
Whene'er you stir the dust of such a day."

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 215

CHAPTER XIX.

" COME out on the colonade ; the air is delicious." As he
spoke, Hugh drew his cousin's arm through his, and led the way
from the tea-table.

" You had company to dine to-day ?"

" Yes ; if I had known that you were coming home to-day I
would have postponed the invitation till to-morrow. Grace ex
pressed much disappointment at your absence."

" Indeed ! Of course I am duly grateful. What a pretty,
sweet little creature she is ! So sprightly, so vivacious, so winning;
so charmingly ignorant of 'Almacantar' and 'Azimuth,' and all
such learned stupidity. Unlike some royal personages of my
acquaintance, who are for ever soaring among the stars, she
never stretches my brains the hundredth part of an inch to com
prehend her delightful prattle. Like Dickens' 'Dora,' she
regards any attempt to reason with her as a greater insult than
a downright scolding. Your solemn worshiper was also present,
I believe ?"

" To whom do you allude ?"

" Your tedious, tiresome pertinacious shadow, Herbert Black-
well, of course ! Do you know I detest that man most
cordially ?"

"For what reason?"

" I really do not feel in the mood to enumerate all his peccadil
loes and disagreeable traits ; but it is supremely ridiculous to
see the way in which he hovers round you, like one of those
large black moths about the hall lamp."

" Come, come, Hugh ! Mr. Blackwell is a man whom I
respect and esteem, and you shall not make him a target for
your merriment."

" Oh, doubtless ! my czarina ! and, as a reward for your
consideration, he would fain confer on you his distinguished hand
and fortune. It is quite a respectable farce to watch him watch
ing you."

216 MAC ARIA ; OR,

" I wish you had a tithe of his industry and perseverance.
Did it ever occur to you that life is given for nobler purposes
and loftier aspirations than hunting, fishing, horse-racing, gamb
ling, and similar methods of murdering time which you habitually
patronize ?"

" You are too young to play the role of Mentor, and those
rare red lips of yours were never meant for homilizing. Irene,
how long do you intend to keep me in painful suspense ?"

" I am not aware that I have in any degree kept you in sus
pense."

" At all events, you know that you torture me with cool, de
liberate cruelty."

" I deny your charge most solemnly."

" My dear Irie, let us understand each other fully, for "

" Nay, Hugh, be honest ; there is no misapprehension what
ever. We thoroughly understand each other already."

" You shall not evade me ; I have been patient, and the time
has come when we must talk of our future. Irene, dearest, be
generous, and tell me when will you give me, irrevocably, this
hand which has been promised to me from your infancy ?"

He took the hand and carried it to his lips, but she forcibly
withdrew it, and, disengaging her arm, said, emphatically :

" Never, Hugh. Never."

" How can you trifle with me, Irene ? If you could realize
how impatient I am for the happy day when I shall call you my
wife, you would be serious, and fix an early period for our mar
riage."

" Hugh, why will you affect to misconceive my meaning ? I
am serious ; I have pondered, long and well, a matter involving
your life-long happiness and mine, and I tell you, most solemnly,
that I will never be your wife."

" Oh, Irene ! your promise ! your sacred promise 1"

" I never gave it ! On the contrary, I have never failed to
show you that my whole nature rebelled against the most unna
tural relation forced upon me. I can not, shall not, hold myself
bound by the promise of another made when I was an uncon
scious infant. I know the family compact, sealed by my father's

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE, 217

words, at your mother's death-bed, making two little irresponsi
ble children parties to a thoroughly selfish, ignoble contract,
which is revolting to me. Your future and mine were adumbra
ted from my cradle, and that which only we could legitimately
decide was usurped and predetermined. You have known, for
years, that I loathed the heartless betrothal and ignored its re
strictions ; niy unalterable determination was very apparent when
you returned from Europe. You were kept in no suspense ; you
understood me then as fully as now ; and it is ungenerous, un
manly, to press a suit which you cannot fail to know is extremely
disagreeable to me."

" My dear Irene, have you, then, no love for me ? I have
hoped and believed that you hid your love behind your cold
mask of proud silence. You must, you do love me, my beautiful
cousin !"

" You do not believe your own words ; you are obliged to
know better. I love you as my cousin, love you somewhat as I
love uncle Eric, love you as the sole young relative left to me,
as the only companion of my lonely childhood ; but other love
than this I never had, never can have for you. Hugh, my cou
sin, look fearlessly at the unvarnished truth ; neither you nor I
have one spark of that aifection which alone can sanction mar
riage. We are utterly unlike in thought, taste, feeling, habits
of life, and aspirations ; I have no sympathy with your pursuits,
you are invariably afflicted with ennui at the bare suggestion of
mine. Nature stamped us with relentless antagonisms of charac
ter ; I bow to her decree, rather than to man's word. Dante
painted no purgatory dark enough to suit the wretchedness that
would result from such an unholy union as ours would be.
Think of it, Hugh ; a loveless marriage ; a mere moneyed part
nership ; a sort of legal contract ; the only true union being of
bank stock, railroad shares, and broad plantations." She lean
ed against one of the pillars with her arms folded, and a cold
merciless smile curling the beautiful mouth.

" Indeed, you wrong me, my worshiped cousin. You are
dearer to me than anything else on earth. I have loved you,

10

218 MAC ARIA ; OB,

and you only, from my boyhood ; you have been a lovely idol
from earliest recollection."

" You are mistaken, most entirely mistaken ; I am not to be
deceived, neither can you hoodwink yourself. You like me, you
love me, in the 'same quiet way that I love you ; you admire
me, perhaps, more than any one you chance to know just now ;
you are partial to my beauty, and, from long habit, have come to
regard me as your proper ty, much in the same light as that in
which you look upon your costly diamond buttons, or your high-
spirited horses, or rare imported pointers. After a fashion you
like me, Hugh ; I know you do ; and, my cousin, it would
be most lamentable and unnatural if you had not some affection
for me ; but love, such as a man should have for the woman whom
he makes his life-companion, and calls by the sacred name of wife,
you have not one atom of. I do not wish to wound you, but I
must talk to you as any reasonable woman would on a question
of such great importance ; for I hold it no light thing for two
souls to burden themselves with vows which neither can possibly
perform. Hugh, I abhor sham ! and I tell you now that I
never will be a party to that which others have arranged with
out my consent."

" Ah 1 I see how matters stand. Having disposed of your
heart, and lavished your love elsewhere, you shrink from fulfill
ing the sacred obligations that make you mine. I little dream
ed that you were so susceptible, else I had not left you feeling
so secure. My uncle has not proved the faithful guardian I be
lieved him when I entrusted my treasure, my affianced bride to
his care."

Bitter disappointment flashed in his face and quivered in his
voice, rendering him reckless of consequences. But though he
gazed fiercely at her as he uttered the taunt, it produced not the
faintest visible effect ; the cloudless chiselled face still wore its
quiet smile of mild irony, and the low clear voice preserved its
sweetness.

" You do my father rank injustice, Hugh. Not Ladon was
more faithful or tireless than he has been."

. . ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 219

" He can not deny that the treasure has been stolen, neverthe
less !"

" He probably can and will deny that the golden treasure has
been snatched from his guardianship. Another Atlas or a sec
ond Hercules would be needed for such a theft."

The application stung him ; he crimsoned, and retorted with
a degree of bitterness of which he was probably unconscious at
the moment :

" You, at least, dare not deny my charge, my truthful, con
stant fiancee /"

" Either you over-estimate my supposed offence or under-rate
my courage ; there are few honorable things which I dare not
do."

" Confess, then, who stands between your heart and mine. I
have a right to ask ; I will know."

" You forget yourself, my cousin. Your right is obviously a
debatable question ; we will waive it, if you please. I have told
you already, and now I repeat it for the last time, I will not go
with you to the altar, because neither of us has proper affection
for the other to warrant such a union ; because it would be an
infamous pecuniary contract, revolting to every true soul. I do
not want your estate, and you should be content with your am
ple fortune without coveting my inheritance, or consenting to sell
your manhood to mammon. I would not suit you for a wife ; go
find some more congenial spirit, some gentle, clinging girl, who
will live only in your love and make you forget all else in her
presence. I have no fancy for the Gehenna our married life
would inevitably prove. Henceforth there is no margin for mis
apprehension ; understand that we meet in future as cousins,
only as cousins, acknowledging no other relationship, no other
tie save that of consanguinity ; for I do not hesitate to snap the
links that were forged in my babyhood, to annul the unrighteous
betrothal of other hands. Hugh, cherish no animosity against
me ; I merit none. Because we can not be more, shall we be
less than friends ?"

She held out her hand, but he was too angry to accept it, and
asked, haughtily :

? Shall I break this pleasant piece of information to my un-

220 MACARIA ; OK,

cle ? Or do you feel quite equal to the task of blighting all his
long-cherished hopes, as well as mine ?"

" I leave it in your hands ; consult your discretion, or your
pleasure ; to me it matters little. Remember my earnest re
quest, that you bear me no malice in the coming years. Good
night, my cousin."

She turned to leave him, but he caught her dress, and ex
claimed, with more tenderness than he had ever manifested be
fore :

" Oh, Irene ! do not reject me utterly I I can not relinquish
you. Give me one more year to prove my love ; to win yours.
If your proud heart is still your own, may I not hope to obtain
it, by ."

" No, Hugh 1 no. As well hope to inspire affection in yon
der mute marble guardians. Forgive me if I pain you, but I
must be candid at every hazard." She pointed to the statues
near the door, and went through the green-house to the library,
thence to the observatory, expecting, ere long, to be joined by
her father. Gradually the house became quiet, and, oppressed
with the painful sense of coming trouble, she sought her own
room just as the clock struck twelve. Pausing to count the
strokes, she saw a light gleaming through the key-hole of her
father's door, opposite her own, and heard the sound of low but
earnest conversation mingled wfth the restless tramp of pacing
feet. She was powerfully tempted to cross the passage, knock,
and have the ordeal ended then and there ; but second thought
whispered, " To-morrow will soon be here ; be patient." She
entered her room, and, wearied by the events of the day, fell
asleep, dreaming of the new lot in the cemetery, and the lonely,
joyless man who haunted it.

As she adjusted her riding-habit the following morning, and
suffered Andrew to arrange her stirrup, the latter said, good-
fa umoredly :

" So, Mas' Hugh got the start of you. It is n't often he beats
you."

" What do you mean ?"

" He started a while ago, and, if he drives as he generally
does, he will get to his plantation in time for dinner "

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 221

" Did father go, too ?"

" No, raa'm ; only Mas' Hugh, in his own buggy."
In the quiet, leafy laboratory of nature there is an elixir of
strength for those wise enough to seek it ; and its subtle, vola
tile properties continually come to the relief of wearied, over
taxed brains, and aching, oppressed hearts. The human frame,
because of its keen susceptibility to impressions from the exter
nal world, and its curious adaptation thereunto, becomes, like
the strings of an JEolian harp, attuned perfectly to the breath
that sweeps it, and is by turns the exponent of stormy passion or
holy resignation. Thus from the cool serenity, the dewy sparkle,
and delicate perfume of the early morning, Irene derived a re
newal of strength such as no purely human aid could have fur
nished. She remembered now the sybillic words of the young
minister : " You, too, must tread the wine-press alone," and
felt that the garments of her soul were taking the dye, the pur
ple stain of the wine of trial. Doubtless he had alluded to a dif
ferent ordeal, but she knew that all the future of her earthly ex
istence was to receive its changeless hue from this day, and she
could entertain but a modicum of doubt as to what that hue
would prove. Returning from her ride, she stood a moment on
the front step, looking down the avenue. The bermuda terrace
blazed in the sun-light like a jewelled coronal, the billowy sea of
foliage, crested by dewy drops, flashed and dripped as the soft
air stirred the ancient trees, the hedges were all alive with birds
and butterflies, the rich aroma of brilliant and countless flowers,
the graceful curl of smoke wreathing up from the valley beyond,
the measured musical tinkle of bells as the cows slowly descend
ed the distant hills, and, over all, like God's mantling mercy, a
summer sky —

" As blue as Aaron's priestly robe appeared
To Aaron, when he took it off to die.M

Involuntarily she stretched out her arms to the bending
heavens, and her lips moved, but no sound escaped to tell what
petition went forth to the All-Father. She went to her room,
changed her dress, and joined her father at the breakfast-table.
Half-concealed behind his paper, he took no notice of her quiet

222 MACARIA; OK,

" good-morning," seeming absorbed in an editorial. The silent
meal ended, he said, as they left the table :

" I want to see you in the library."

She followed him without comment ; he locked the door, threw
open the blinds, and drew two chairs to the window, seating himself
immediately in front of her. For a moment he eyed her, earnestly
as if measuring her strength ; and she saw the peculiar sparkle
in his falcon eye, which, like the first lurid flash in a darkened
sky, betokened tempests. " Irene, I was very much astonished
to learn the result of an interview between Hugh and yourself ;
I can scarcely believe that you were in earnest, and feel disposed
to attribute your foolish words to some trifling motive of girlish
coquetry or momentary pique. You have long been perfectly
well aware that you and your cousin were destined for, each
other ; that I solemnly promised the marriage should take place as
soon as you were of age ; that all my plans and hopes for you cen
tered in this one engagement. I have not pressed the matter on
your attention of late, because I knew you had sense enough to
appreciate your position, and because I believed you would be
guided by my wishes in this important affair. You are no longer
a child ; I treat you as a reasonable woman, and now I tell you
candidly it is the one wish of my heart to see you Hugh's wife."

He paused, but she made no answer, and, taking one of her
hands, he continued :

" My daughter, I cannot believe that you, on whom I have
lavished so much love and tenderness, can " deliberately refuse to
accede to my wishes, can disappoint my dearest hopes. Of
course, in all that I do or counsel, I am actuated only by a
desire to promote your happiness. My dear child, I have a
right to direct you, and surely your affection for your only parent
will induce you to yield to his wishes."

He tightened his clasp of her cold hand, and leaned toward
her.

" Father, my happiness will not be promoted by this marriage,
and if you are actuated solely by this motive, allow me to re
main just as I am. I should be most miserable as Hugh's wife ;
most utterly miserable."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 223

"Why so?"

" For reasons which I gave him last night, and which it is
hardly necessary for me to recapitulate as he doubtless repeated
them to you."

" Let me hear them, if you please."

" Our characters are totally dissimilar ; our tastes and opinions
wide as the poles asunder ; our natures could not possibly har
monize ; and7 more than all, we do not love each other as people
should who stand at the altar and ask God's blessing on their
marriage, I suppose, sir, that Hugh tells you he loves me ;
perhaps he likes me better than any one else beside himself, but
the deep, holy affection which he ought to feel for the woman
whom he calls his wife, has no existence in his heart. It will
prove a mere temporary disappointment, nothing seriously touch
ing his happiness ; for, I assure you, that is not in my keeping."

" And if I answer that I know the contrary to be true ?"

" Father, I should still adhere to my own opinion ; and, even
were I disposed to accept your view of it, my own feelings would
stand an everlasting barrier to our union. I do notlove Hugh,
and — I must tell you, sir, that I think it wrong for cousins
to marry."

" You talk like a silly child ; I thought you had more sense.
Your objections I have listened to ; they are imaginary and
trifling ; and I ask you, as a father has a right to ask his child,
to waive these ridiculous notions, and grant the only request I
have ever made of you. Tell me, my daughter, that you will
consent to accept your cousin, and thereby make me happy."

He stooped and kissed her-forehead, watching her countenance
eagerly.

" Oh, father 1 do not ask this of me ! Anything else ! any
thing else."

" Answer me, my darling child ; give me your promise."

His hold was painful, and an angry pant mingled with the
pleading tones. She raised her head and said slowly :

" My father, I can not." v

He threw her hand from him, and sprang up.

" Ingrate ! do you mean to say that you will not fulfil a

224 MACARIA ; OR,

sacred engagement ? — that you will break an oath given to the
dead ?"

" I do not hold myself bound by the oaths of another, though
he were twice my father. I am responsible for no acts but my
own. No one has the right to lay his hand on an unconscious
infant slumbering in her cradle, and coolly determine, for all
ime, her destiny. You have the right to guide me, to say what
I shall not do with your consent, but I am a free-born Ameri
can, thank God I I did not draw my breath in Circassia, to be
bartered for gold by my father. I, only, can give myself away.
Why should you wish to force this marriage on me ? Father,
do you think that a woman has no voice in a matter involving
her happiness for life ? Is one of God's holy sacraments to be
come a mere pecuniary transaction ?— only a legal transfer of
real estate and cotton bales ? Oh, my father 1 would you make
yourself and your child parties to so ignoble, so loathsome a
proceeding ?"

" Oh ! I suspected that your cursed obstinacy would meet me
here, as well as elsewhere in your life. You have been a source
of trouble and sorrow from your birth ; but the time has come
to end all this. I will not be trifled with ; I tried to reason
with you, to influence you through your affection, but it seems
you have none. If I resort to other measures now, you have
only yourself to thank. Irene, there can be peace between us,
but upon one condition ; I have set my heart on seeing you
Hugh's wife ; nothing less will satisfy me. I warn you, as you
value your own happiness, not to thwart me ; it is no trivial risk
that you run. I tell you now, I will make you suffer severely if
you dare to disobey me in this matter. You know that I never
menace idly, and if you refuse to hear reason, I will utterly dis
inherit you, though you are my only child. Ponder it well.
You have been raised in luxury, and taught to believe yourself
one of the wealthiest heiresses in the state ; contrast your
present position, your elegant home, your fastidious tastes grati
fied to the utmost ; contrast all this, I say, with poverty —
imagine yourself left in the world without one cent ! Think of
it ! think of it ! My wealth is my own, mark you, and I will

ALTARS OF SACKIFICE. 225

give it to whom I please, irrespective of all claims of custom.
Now the alternative is fully before you, and on- your own head
be the consequences. Will you accede to my wishes, as any
dutiful child should, or will you deliberately incur my everlasting
displeasure ? Will you marry Hugh ?"

Both rose, and stood confronting each other ; his face burn
ing with wrath, every feature quivering with passion ; hers
white and rigid as a statue's, with only a blue cord-like crescent
between the arching brows to index her emotion. Steadily the
large violet eyes looked into those that regarded her so angrily ;
there was no drooping of the long silken fringes ; no moisture
dimming their depths ; then they were raised slowly, as if to the
throne of God, registering some vow, and, pressing her hands
over her heart, she said, solemnly :

" Father, I will not marry Hugh, so help me God !"

Silence fell between them for several moments ; something in
that fixed, calm face of his child awed him, but it was temporary,
and, with a bitter laugh, he exclaimed :

" Oh, very well I Your poverty be upon your own head in
coming years, when the grave closes over me. At my death
every cent of my property passes to Hugh, and with it my name,
and between you arid me, as an impassable gulf, lies my everlast
ing displeasure. Understand that, though we live here in one
house,' as father and child, I do not, and will not, forgive you.
You have defied me ; now eat the bitter fruit of your diso
bedience."

" I have no desire to question the disposition of your wealth *
if you prefer to give it to my cousin, I am willing, perfectly will
ing. I would rather beg my bread from door to door, proud
though I am ; I would sooner soil my Huntingdon hands by
washing or cooking, than soil my soul with perjury, or sell my
self for gold. It is true, I love elegance and luxury : I enjoy
wealth as well as most people do, I suppose ; but poverty does
not frighten me half so much as a loveless marriage. Give Hugh
your fortune, if you wish, but, father ! father ! let there be no
estrangement between you and me. I can bear everything but
your displeasure ; I dread nothing so much as the loss of your

226 MACAKIA; OK,

love. Oh, father ! forgive a disappointment which my con
science would not permit me to avert. Forgive the pain which,
God knows, I would not have caused you, if I could have avoided
it without compromising principle. Oh, my father 1 my father 1
let not dollars and cents stand between you and your only child.
I ask nothing now but your love."

She drew nearer, but he waved her off and said, with'"a sneer
ing laugh :

" Away with all such cant 1 I gave you the choice, and you
made your selection with your eyes fully open. Accept poverty
as your doom, and with it my eternal displeasure. I intend to
make you suffer for your obstinacy. You shall find, to your
sorrow, that I am not to be trifled with, or my name is not
Leonard Huntingdon. Now go your own way, and find what
a thorny path you have made for yourself."

He pointed to the door as he had done, years before, when the
boarding-school decree went forth, and without remonstrance she
left him, and sat down on the steps of the green-house. Soon
after, the sound of his buggy wheels told her that he had gone
to town, and, leaning her cheek on her hand, she recalled the
painful conversation from first to last. That he meant all he
had threatened, and more, she did not question for an instant,
and, thinking of her future, she felt sick at heart. But with the
shame and sorrow came, also, a thrill of joy ; she had burst the
fetters : she was free. Wounded affection bled freely, but brain
and conscience exulted in the result. She could not reproach
herself ; she resolved not to reproach her father, even in thought.
Hers was not a disposition to vent its griefs and troubles in
tears ; these had come to her relief but three or four times in the
course of a life, and on this occasion she felt as little inclination
to cry as to repine idly over what could not be rectified. Her
painful reverie was interrupted by the click of approaching
crutches, and she rose to meet her uncle.

" Do not get up, Irene ; I will sit here beside you. My child,
look at me — are you sick ?"

" No, uncle Eric ; what put that absurd notion into your
head ? I rode past your door two hours ago, and was power
fully tempted to stop and breakfast with your bachelorship."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 227

He regarded her anxiously, noting the singular crescent on her
pale forehead, and connecting it with the scowling face of his
brother-in-law, which had passed him on the avenue. He knew
that something very unusual had excited the calm, inflexible wo
man till the hot blood swelled that vein, but he forebore all
question.

" What are you thinking of, uncle Eric ?"

" Only of a line in a poem which I was reading last night.
Shall I quote it for you ?

[< ' A still Medusa, with mild milky brows
All curled .' "

She looked in his face, smiled, and passed her hand over her
forehead, hiding the blue cord.

"Ah I a gentle way of reading me a lecture on ill-temper. I
lay no claim to saintship-, you know, and when I am out of humor
my face won't play the hypocrite. I am no Griselda ; obviously
none of my name can ever expect canonization on that score.
Come to the conservatory ; the lemons are in full bloom, and
marvellously sweet. Put your hand on my shoulder, and come
down slowly."

" Where is Hugh ? I thought he came home yesterday ?"

" He started to his plantation at daylight. Take care, sir ;
these flags are slippery with dew • your crutches are unsafe."

CHAPTER XX.

" TO-WHIT — to whoo !" Munin stretched his broad gray wings,
and, quitting the mantle-piece, perched upon the top of the easel,
gazing down at the solitary artist, and uttering all the while a
Rubdued melancholy note of complaint, as if to attract her at
tention. She looked up and held out her hand, coaxingly.

" Munin ! Munin 1 what do you want ? You haunt me like
my shadow. Poor pet, true to your name, you pine for your
master."

228 MACARIA; OR,

The ruffled plumes smoothed themselves, the plaint was hushed.
He fluttered to her shoulder, received her soft, caressing touches
with evident satisfaction, nestled his beak in her shining hair, and
then, as if soothed and contented, flitted to the open window.
Resuming her brush, Electra leaned forward and continued her
work. " Laborare^est orare;" if so, no more ardent devotee
ever bowed at the shrine of toil, bearing sacrificial offerings.
Thoughts, hopes, aspirations, memories, all centered in the
chosen profession ; to its prosecution she brought the strength
and energy of an indomitable will, the rich and varied resources
of a well-stored brilliant intellect. It was evident that she
labored con amore, and now the expectation of approaching
triumph lent additional eagerness to her manner. The fingers
trembled, the eyes sparkled unwontedly, a deeper, richer crim
son glowed on the smooth cheeks, and the lips parted and closed
unconsciously. The tantalizing dreams of childhood, beautiful
but evanescent, had gradually embodied themselves in a palpa
ble, tangible, glorious reality ; and the radiant woman exulted
in the knowledge that she had but to. put forth her hand and
grasp it. The patient work of twelve months drew to a close ;
the study of years bore its first fruit ; the last delicate yet quiv
ering touch was given -* she threw down palette and brush, and,
stepping back, surveyed the canvas. The Exhibition would
open within two days, and this was to be her contribution. A
sad-eyed Cassandra, with pallid, prescient, woe-struck features —
an over-mastering face, wherein the flickering light of divination
struggled feebly with the human horror of the To-Come, whose
hideous mysteries were known only to the royal prophetess. In
mute and stern despair it looked out from the canvas, a curious
anomalous tiling — cut adrift from human help, bereft of aid from
heaven — yet, in its doomed isolation, scorning to ask the sym
pathy which its extraordinary loveliness extorted from all who
saw it. The artist's pride in this, her first finished creation, might
well be pardoned, for she was fully conscious that the cloud-
region of a painful novitiate lay far beneath her ; that hence
forth she should never miss the pressure of long-coveted chaplcts
from her brow ; that she should bask in the wq,rm, fructifying

ALTAK8 OF SACRIFICE. 229

rays of public favor ; and measureless exultation flashed in her
beautiful eyes. . The torch of Genius burned brightly, as buoy
ant and eager, she took her place in the great lampadrome of
life ; but would it endure till the end ? Would it light up the
goal standing upon the terminus of Time ?

The door opened, and Russell came into the studio. She wa8
not expecting him ; his sudden appearance gave her no time to
adjust the chilling mask of pride, and all her uncontrolled affec
tion found eloquent language in the joyful face.

" Russell ! my own dear Russell !"

He drew his arm around her and kissed her flushed cheek, and
each looked at the other, wondering at the changes which years
had wrought.

" Electra, you have certainly improved more than any one I
ever knew. You look the impersonation of perfect health ; it is
needless to ask how you are." And again -his lips touched the
beaming face pressed against his shoulder. Her arms stole trem
blingly around his neck, past indifference was forgotten in the
joy of his presence, and she murmured :

" I thought I should not see you before I left America. I can
not tell you what a pleasure this surprise is to me. Oh, Russell 1
I longed inexpressibly to be with you once more. Thank you, a
thousand times, for coming to me at last."

" Did you suppose that I intended to let you put the Atlantic
between us without making an effort to see you again ? Were
you unjust enough to believe that I had forgotten the only rela
tive whom I love ? My dear little sceptic, I have come to prove
my affection, and put yours to the test."

He pressed her closer to his heart, but suddenly she shrank
from him, unclasped his arm, and, wheeling two chairs to the
window, said, hurriedly :

" Sit down, and let me look at you. You have grown so tall
and commanding that I am half-afraid of my own cousin. You
avo less like aunt Amy than formerly."

" Allow me to look at your painting first, for it will soon be
too dark to examine it. This is the Cassandra of which you
wrote me."

230 MACARTA ; OK,

X

He stood before it for some moments in silence, and she watch
ed him with breathless eagerness — for his opinion was of more
value to her than that of all the dilettanti and connoisseur & who
would soon inspect it. Gradually his dark, cold face kindled,
and she had her reward.

" It is a masterly creation ; a thing of wonderful and imper
ishable beauty ; it is a great success — as such the world will re
ceive it — and hundreds will proclaim your triumph. I am proud
of it, and doubly proud of you."

He held out his hand, and, as she put her fingers in his, her
head drooped, and hot tears blinded her. Praise from the lips
she loved best stirred her womanly heart as the applause of the
public could never do ; and, in after years, when grief and lone
liness oppressed her, these precious words rang sweet and silvery
through the darkened chambers of her soul, working miracles
of comfort infinitely beyond the potent spell of Indian 0-U-M,
or mystic Agla. Without perceiving her emotion he continued,
with his eyes fixed on the picture :

" Some day you must make me a copy, and I will hang it over
the desk in my office, where I can feast my eyes on its rare love
liness and my ears with your praises, from all who see it. How
long have you been at work upon it ?"

" I can't recall the time when it first took hold of my imagi
nation ; it paced by my side when I was a child, brooded over
me in my troubled dreams, looked out from the pomp of summer
clouds and the dripping drab skies of winter, floated on snow-
flakes, and flashed in thunder-storms ; but I outlined it about a
year ago. For my exhibition picture, I wavered long between
this and an unfinished Antigone ; but finally decided in favor of
Cassandra."

" And selected wisely. While in Europe I saw, in a private
house, an exquisite head of the ' Erytkrasan Sybil? which some
what resembles your painting. The position is almost identical
— the nose, mouth, and chin very similar ; but the glory of this
Cassandra is the supernatural eyes, brimful of prescience. It
might afford matter for curious speculation, however, and some
time we will trace the subtle law of association of ideas by which

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE.

231

two artists, separated by the Atlantic, and by centuries, chanced,
under totally different circumstances, to portray similarly the
two distinct prophetesses who both foretold the doom of Troy.'^

" If such is the case, the world will be very sceptical of the
coincidence. I did not even know that there was an ' Eryth
raean Sybil? much less a picture of her ; so much for ignorance 1
The critics who knew that I did not paint your portrait, simply
because it was well done, will swear that I stole the whole of
my Cassandra," answered Electra, perplexed and troubled.

" You need not look so rueful, and plough your forehead with
that heavy frown. In all probability I am the only person in
New York who has seen the other picture ; and, granting the
contrary, the resemblance might not be detected. If you suffer
it to annoy you I shall be sorry that I mentioned it. Yet, I
doubt not, the withering charge of plagiarism has often been
hurled in the face of an honest worker, quite as unjustly as it
would be in your case. Yery startling coincidences sometimes
occur most innocently ; but carping envy is a thrifty plant, and
flourishes on an astonishingly small amount of soil."

" Who painted that Sibyl ?"

" It is not known positively. Traveling through the north
ern part of France, I was detained some hours at a village, and
employed the delay in rambling about the suburbs. Following
a winding road it brought me to the enclosure of a chateau, and
I leaned on the fence and admired the parterre, which was un
commonly pretty. The owner happened to be among his flower
beds, saw me, and, with genuine French politeness and urbanity,
insisted that I should enter and rest myself while he gathered
nie a bouquet of mignonette and pinks. The afternoon was
warm, and I asked for a glass of water. He took me into the
house, and on the parlor wall hung this picture. It riveted my
attention, and flattered, doubtless, by my evident admiration, he
gave me its history. His father had found it at a picture-shop
in Germany, I forget now exactly where, and bought it for a
Dolce, but doubted its genuineness ; and my host, who seemed
thoroughly aufait in Art matters, asserted that it belonged to

232 MACAEIA ; OE,

a much earlier school. That is all that I or the owner know of-
it ; so dismiss the subject from your mind."
^ " I shall not, I promise you. Give me minute directions, and
I will hunt up chateau, mignonette, gentlemanly proprietor,
Sibyl, and all. Who knows but metempsychosis may be true
•after all, and that the painter's soul possesses me bodily, striving
to portray the archetype which haunted him in the last stage of
existence ? According to Yaughan, the Portuguese have a
superstition that the soul of a man who has died leaving some
duty unfulfilled, or promised work unfinished, is frequently known
to enter into another person, and dislodging for a time the right
ful soul-occupant, impel him unconsciously to complete what
was lacking."

" You are growing positively paganish, Electra, from con
stant association with the dead deities of classic ages, and I
must reclaim you. Come, sit down, and tell me something of
your life, since the death of your friend, Mr. Clifton."

" Did you receive my last letter, giving an account of Mrs.
Clifton's death ?"

" Yes ; just as I stepped upon the platform of the cars it was
handed to me. I had heard nothing from you for so long, that
I thought it was time to look after you."

" You had started, then, before you knew that I was going
to Europe ?"

"Yes."

He could not understand the instantaneous change which came
over her countenance — the illumination, followed as suddenly by
a smile, half compassionate, half bitter. She pressed one hand
to her heart, and said :

" Mrs. Clifton never seemed to realize her son's death, though,
after paralysis took place, and she became speechless, I thought
she recovered her memory in some degree. She survived him
just four months, and, doubtless, was saved much grief by her
unconsciousness of what had occurred. Poor old lady ! she
suffered little for a year past, and died, I hope, without pain.
I have the consolation of knowing that I did all that oould be
done to promote her comfort. Russell, I would *iot live here

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 233

for any consideration ; nothing but a sense of duty has detained
me this long. I promised him that I would not forsake his
mother. But you can have no adequate conception of the feeling
of desolation which comes over me when I sit here during the long
evenings. He seems watching me from picture-frames and
pedestals ; his face, his pleading, patient, wan face, haunts me
perpetually. And yet I tried to make him happy ; God knows
I did my duty."

She sprang up, and paced the room for some moments, with
her hands behind her, and tears glittering on her cheeks.
Pausing at last on the rug, she pointed to a large square object
closely shrouded, and added :

" Yonder stands his last picture, unfinished. The day he
died he put a few feeble strokes upon it, and bequeathed the
completion of the task to me. For several years he worked
occasionally on it, but much remains to be done. It is the
1 Death of Socrates.' I have not even looked at it since that
night ; I do not intend to touch it until after I visit Italy ; I
doubt whether my hand will ever be steady enough to give the
last strokes. Oh, Russell ! the olden time, the cottage days
seem far, far off to me now !"

Leaning against the mantel-piece, she dropped her head on
her hand, but when he approached and stood at the opposite
corner he saw that the tears had dried.

" Neither of us has had a sunny life, Electra ; both have had
numerous obstacles to contend with ; both have very bitter
memories. Originally there was a certain parallelism in our
characters, but with our growth grew the divergence. You
have preserved the nobler part of your nature better than I ;
for my years I am far older than you ; none of the brightness of
my boyhood seems to linger about me. Contact with the world
is an indurating process ; I really did not know how hard I had
grown, until I felt my heart soften at sight of you. I need you
to keep the kindly charities and gentle amenities of life before
me, and, therefore, I have come for you. But for my poverty
I never would have given you up so long ; I felt that it would
be for your advantage, in more thau one respect, to remain with

234 MACARIA; OR,

Mr. Clifton until I had acquired my profession. I knew that
you would enjoy privileges here, which I could not give you in
my straightened circumstances. Things have changed ; Mr.
Campbell has admitted me to partnership ; my success I con
sider an established fact. Give up, for a season, this projected
tour of Europe ; wait till I can go with you ; till I can take you ;

go back to W with me. You can continue your art-studies,

if you wish it ; you can prosecute them there as well as here.
You are ambitious, Electra ; so am I, let us work together."

She raised her head and looked up at the powerful, nobly-
proportioned form, the grand, kingly face, calm and colorless,
the large, searching black eyes, within whose baffling depths lay
all the mysteries of mesmerism, and a spasm of pain seized her
own features. She shaded her brow, and answered :

"No, Russell ; I could not entertain that thought an instant."

" Are you too proud to accept a home from me ?"

"Not too proud, exactly ; but,. as long as I have health, I
mean to make a support. I will not burden you."

" What bunglers you women are at logic ! The thought of
living on my charity affrights you, and yet you fly from me to
the cold charity of the world — for what else is fleeting, fickle
public favor — fitful public patronage or praise ?"

" Full value received for benefit rendered, is not charity ; be
side, Russell, you, too, seek and subsist upon this same fickle
public favor *;

" Partially, I grant you ; but I ground my claims far deeper
than you ; I strike down, taking root in the substratum of sel
fishness. Interest, individual interest, is the outpost of which I
am paid to be the sentinel ; stern necessity is my guardian angel,
compelling all men to see that my wages are inviolate. I stand
in the great brain-market place, and deal with mankind in the
normal, every-day manifestations of avarice, selfishness, or hate ;
profit and loss the theme — dollars or blood the currency. M.
Quetelet, one of the most eminent statisticians of Europe, has
proved that, in a given population, a given number of crimes will
annually be committed ; so you see that, in this market, also,
production keeps pace with consumption, and legal counsel is

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 235

necessitated. On the contrary, you address yourself to a class
of emotions fluctuating and short-lived — common to compara
tively few — involving no questions of utility — luxuries not neces
sities. Yours is a profession of contingencies ; not so mine ; for
injustice, duplicity, theft, are every-day, settled certainties. A
man will give me one half of his estate to save the other, which
the chicane of his neighbor threatens."

" And if that villainous, avaricious neighbor had employed
you half an hour before the injured man sought to engage your
services ?" »

" Why, then the lawyer next in his estimation gets the case, and
it is resolved into a simple question of his superior adroitness, acu
men, and industry, or mine. The world is hard upon lawyers, its
faithful servants, and holds them up as moral monsters to the
very children whose mouths their labor fills with bread. An
erroneous and most unjust impression prevails that a lawyer of
ability, plus extensive practice, equals Bacon, Jeffries, Impey, or
some other abnormal disgrace to jurisprudence ; whereas, the
sole object of the institution of law is to secure right, justice,
and truth. You are opening your lips to ask if the last is not
often wilfully suppressed ? Remember that even the Twelve
found a Judas among their number, and the provision of counsel
is to elicit truth, and all the truth, on both sides. I bring testi
mony in defence of all that is susceptible of proof in my client's
favor, and it is the business of'the opposite counsel to do like
wise ; if he neglects his duty, or, through lack of intellect, suffers
me to gain the case, even against real justice, am I culpable ? I
did my duty ; he failed to defend his cause, however righteous,
and on his shoulders rest the turpitude."

" Ah, Russell 1 you have taken a diploma in the school of
sophistry."

"I am content that you should think so, since a recent great
historian has decided that the Sophists were a sadly maligned
sect, and, instead of becoming a synonyme of reproach, merited
the everlasting gratitude of mankind, as the tireless public teach
ers of Greece — the walking-school system of Athens in her im
perial, palmy days."

236 MACABIA ; OR,

" I never will believe that ! I wish to heaven archceologfsts
would let the dust of Athens rest, instead of ploughing- it up pe
riodically with the sacrilegious shares of newfangled theories."'

" And thereby exhuming the mouldering bones of some of
your favorite divinities, I suppose ? The literary philhellenism
of the present age, and especially its philologic tendency, is fast
hunting the classic spectres of the heroic times into primeval
shade. Oldfogyisrn in literature is considered, I believe, quite as
unpardonable as in politics. Take care how you handle the
Sophists, for I hold that they differed in but one respect from
your hero, Socrates."

" You shall not insult his memory by any such disgraceful as
sociation," interrupted his cousin.

" And that difference," he continued, without heeding her,
" consists in the fact that they taught for money, while he scorn
ed to accept remuneration. Sydney Smith maintains that ' So
crates invented common sense two thousand years ago, as Ceres
invented the plough, and Bacchus intoxication.7 I should re
ceive the dictum more readily if he had pocketed the honest
wages of his talents, instead of deluding himself with the belief
that he was the heaven-appointed regenerator of Athens, and
making his labors purely eleemosynary, to the' possible detriment
of his family. Who knows but that, after all, Xantippe deserv
ed a place in martyrology, having been driven to paroxysms of
rage and desperation by an empty purse, or wretched household
derangements, victimized by her husband's cosmopolitan mission ;
for it is a notorious fact that men who essay to manage the opin
ions of the world invariably neglect their domestic affairs, and
allow them to run to ruin."

" Five years ago you would not have said that, Russell, and I
think it questionable whether you believe it all now. I hold my
profession a nobler one than yours, and dispute your predicate
that it involves no utility. Whatever tends to exalt, to purify,
to ennoble, is surely useful ; and aesthetics, properly directed, is
one of the most powerful engines of civilization. See what it
wrought for Athens."

"You mistake effect for cause. The freedom of Athens was

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 237

the lever which raised it to such a pitch of glory ; as a sequence,
the arts flourished and beauty was apotheosized. When freedom
perished the arts received their death-blow, and, impotent to
preserve the prosperity of the city, shed a lingering halo around
its melancholy but majestic ruins. That aesthetics and utility
are synonymes, is an axiom which might find acceptation in
1 Bensalem ;' but in this intensely practical, mechanical epoch of
human history, and this money-making quarter of the globe, you
must educate the masses up to an entirely different level, before
you can expect them to receive it."

" And, so far as my feeble influence extends, or my limited
ability will permit, I purpose to become such a teacher. Do not
laugh at me, Russell, I beg of you."

" I smile at the beautiful dream, rather than the enthusiastic
dreamer. So, doubtless, dreamed Phidias, Praxiteles, and the
Rhodian Trio, and only a few time-corroded blocks of marble
remain in attestation. Cui bono ?"

11 Yours and mine ! — for dead nations, and for generations
yet unborn, who shall gaze upon their noble and imperishable
monuments. You are worse than Goth or Vandal, if you can
ignore their softening^ spiritualizing influence — for even they,
rude and untutored, bowed before their immortal beauty. What
has come over you, Russell, hardening your nature, and sealing
the sources of genial, genuine appreciation ?"

" The icy breath of experience, the crystalizing touch of years.
You must not be so severe upon me, Electra ; many a time,
since we parted, I have left my desk to watch a gorgeous sunset,
and for a few minutes fancy myself once more leaning on the
garden-gate of my early home. I love beauty, but I subordinate
it to the practical utilities of life. I have little time for aesthetic
musings ; I live among disenchanting, common-place realities. It
is woman's province and prerogative to gather up the links of
beauty, and bind them as a garland round her home ; to fill it
with the fragrance of dewy flowers, the golden light of western
skies, the low, soothing strains of music, which can chant all care
to rest ; which will drown the clink of dollars and cents, and
lead a man's thoughts to purer, loftier themes. Ah ! there is no

238 MACAKIA ; OK,

apocalypse of joy and peace like a happy home, where a woman
of elegance and refinement goes to and fro. This recalls the ob
ject of my visit. You say, truly, that full value received for
benefit rendered is not charity ; apply your principle, come to

W , share my future, and what fortune I may find assigned

me. I have bought the cottage, and intend to build a handsome
house there some day, where you and Mr. Campbell, and I can
live peacefully. You shall twine your aesthetic fancies all about
it, to make it picturesque enough to suit your fastidious artistic
taste. Come, and save me from what you consider my worse
than vandalian proclivities. I came here simply and solely in the
hope of prevailing on you to return with me. I make this re
quest, not because I think it will be expected of me, but for
more selfish reasons — because it is a matter resting very near my
heart."

" Oh, Russell ! you tempt me."

" I wish to do so. My blood beats in your veins ; you are
the only relative I value, and were you indeed my sister, I should
scarcely love you more. With all a brother's interest, why
should I not claim a brother's right to keep you with me, at
least until you find your Pylades, and give him a higher claim
before God and man ? Electra, were I your brother, you would
require no persuasion ; why hesitate now ?"

She clasped her hands behind her, as if for support in some
fiery ordeal, and, gathering up her strength, spoke rapidly, like
one who fears that resolution will fail before some necessary sen
tence is pronounced.

" You are very kind and generous, Russell, and for all that
you have offered me I thank you from the depth of a full heart.
The consciousness of your continued interest and affection is in
expressibly precious ; but my disposition is too much like your
own to suffer me to sit down in idleness, while there is so much
to be done in the world. I, too, want to earn a noble reputa
tion, which will survive long after I have been gathered to my
fathers ; I want to accomplish some work, looking upon which,
my fellow-creatures will proclaim : ' That woman has not lived
in vain ; the world is better and happier because she came and

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE.

labored in it.' I want my name carved, not on monumental
marble only, but upon the living, throbbing heart of my age ! —
stamped indelibly on the generation in which my lot is cast.
Perhaps I am too sanguine of success ; a grieyous disappoint
ment may await all my ambitious hopes, but failure will come
from want of genius, not lack of persevering, patient toil. Upon
the threshold of my career, facing the loneliness of coming years,
I resign that hope with which, like a golden thread, most women
embroider their future. I dedicate myself, my life, unreservedly
to Art."

" You believe that you will be happier among the marble and
canvas of Italy than in W with me ?"

" Yes ; I shall be better satisfied there. All my life it has
gleamed afar off, a glorious land of promise to my eager, long
ing spirit. From childhood I have cherished the hope of reach
ing it, and the fruition is near at hand. Italy ! bright Alma
Mater of the art to which I consecrate my years. Do you won
der that, like a lonely child, I stretch out my arms toward it ?
Yet my stay there will be but for a season. I go to complete my
studies, to make myself a more perfect instrument for my noble
work, and then I shall come home — come, not to New York,

but to my own dear native South, to W , that I may

labor under the shadow of its lofty pines, and within hearing of
its murmuring river — dearer to me than classic Arno, or im
mortal Tiber. I wrote you that Mr. Clifton had left me a le
gacy, which, judiciously invested, will defray my expenses in
Europe, where living is cheaper than in this country. Mr.
Young has taken charge of the money for me, and has kindly
offered to attend to my remittances. Aunt Ruth's friends, the
Richardsons, consented to wait for me until after the opening of
the Exhibition of the Academy of Design, and one week from
to-morrow we expect to sail."

" What do you know of.the family ?"

" Nothing, except that the lady, who is an old friend of my
aunt, is threatened with consumption, and has been advised to
spend a year or two in Florence. Aunt Ruth took me to see

24:0 MACAEIA J OK,

her the other day ; she seems intelligent and agreeable, and, I
dare say, I shall find her kind and pleasant enough."

" Since such is the programme you have marked out, I trust
that no disappointments await you, and that all .your bright
dreams may be realized. But if it should prove otherwise, and
you grow weary of your art, sick of isolation, and satiated with
Italy, remember that I shall welcome you home, and gladly
share with you all that I possess. You are embarking in an ex
periment which thousands have tried before you, and wrecked
happiness upon ; but I have no right to control your future, and
certainly no desire to discourage you. At all events, I hope
our separation will be brief." ,

A. short silence followed, broken at last by Electra, who
watched him keenly as she spoke :

11 Tell me something about Irene. Of course, in a small town
like W , you must see her frequently."

" By no means. I think I have seen her but three times since
her childhood — once riding with her father, then accidentally at
church, and again a few evenings before I left at the graveyard,
where she was dressing a tombstone with flowers. There we ex
changed a few words for the first time, and this reminds me that
I am bearer of a message yet undelivered. She inquired after
you and desired me to tender you her love and best wishes."

He neither started nor changed color at the mention of Irene's
name, but straightened himself, and buttoned to the throat the
black coat, which, from the warmth of the room, he had par
tially loosened.

" Is she not a great belle ?"

" I presume few women have been more admired than she is.
I hear much of her beauty, and the sensation which it creates
wherever she goes ; but the number of her suitors is probably
limited, from the fact that it is generally known she is engaged
to her cousin, young Seymour."

" I can not believe that she loves him."

"Oh 1 that is not necessary to latter-day matrimonial con
tracts ; it is an obsolete clause, not essential to legality, and

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 24rl

utterly ignored. She is bound hand, and foot, and her father
will immolate her on the altar of money."

He smiled bitterly, and crossed his arms over his chest.

" You mistake her character, Russell. I know her better,
and I tell you there is none of the Iphigenia in her nature."

" At least I do not mistake her father's, and I pity the wo
man whose fate rests in his iron grasp."

" She holds hers in her own hands, small and white though
they are ; and, so surely- as the stars shine above us, she will
marry only where she loves. She has all the will which has
rendered the name of her family proverbial. I have her here in
crayons ; tell me what you think of the likeness."

She took down a portfolio and selected the head of her quan-
dam playmate, holding it under the gas-light, and still scrutiniz
ing her cousin's countenance. He took it, and looked gravely,
earnestly, at the lovely features.

" It scarcely does her justice ; I doubt whether any portrait
ever wili. Beside the expression of her face has changed mate
rially since this was sketched. There is a harder outline now
about her mouth, less of dreaminess in the eyes, more of cold hau
teur in the whole face. If you desire it, I can in one line of
Tenyson, photograph her proud beauty, as I saw her mounted
on her favorite horse, the week that I left home :

" ' Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null !' "

He laid the drawing back in the open portfolio, crossed the
room, and took up his hat.

" Where are you going, Russell ? Can't you spend the even
ing with me at aunt Ruth's ?"

" No, thank you ; I must go. There is to be a great politi
cal meeting at Tammany Hall to-night, and I am particularly
anxious to attend."

" What ! are you, too, engaged in watching the fermentation
of the political vat ?"

" Yes ; I am most deeply interested ; no true lover of his
country can fail to be so at this juncture."

11

24-2 MACARIA; OR,

" How long will you be in New York ?"

" Since I can not persuade you to return with me, my stay
here will be shortened. One of our courts meets soon, and,
though Mr. Campbell will be there to attend to the cases, I want,
if possible, to be present. I shall return day after to-morrow.
And now good-night ; I will see you early in the morning."

The door closed behind him, and she remained standing for
some time just as he left her. Slowly the folded hands shrank
from each other, and dropped nerveless to her side ; the bright
glow in her cheeks, the dash of crimson on her lips, faded from
both ; the whole face relaxed into an expression of hopeless
agony. Lonely as Moses when he calmly climbed Nebo to die,
she bowed herself a despairing victim upon the grim, flint-front
ed altar of Necessity.

Curiously subtle and indomitable is woman's heart, so often
the jest of the flippant and unthinking — the sneer of the unscru
pulously calculating, or mercilessly cynical. It had long been no
secret to this woman that she occupied the third place in her
cousin's affections — was but a dweller of the vestibule. Her
pride had been tortured, her vanity sorely wounded ; yet, to
night, purified from all dross, love rose invincible, triumphant
from the crucible of long and severe trial — sublime in its isola
tion, asking, expecting no return —

" Self-girded with torn strips of hope."

Such is the love of a true woman. God help all such, in this
degenerate world of ours, so cursed with shams and counterfeits.

Raising her tearless, shadowy eyes to the woeful face of her
Cassandra, Electra extended her arms and murmured :

" Alone henceforth ! a pilgrim in foreign lands ! a solitary
worker among strangers. So be it ! I am strong enough to
work alone. So be it !"

The flaming sword of the Angel of Destiny waved her from
the Eden of her girlish day-dreams, and by its fiery gleam she
read the dim, dun future ; saw all —

" The long mechanic pacings to and fro,
The set gray life, and apathetic end."

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 243

CHAPTER XXI.

" DON'T you know that even granite mill-stones finally grind
themselves into impalpable powder ? You give yourself no rest,
Aubrey, and human machinery wears rapidly."

" But if the powder ground be golden ?"

" The dust is but dust still, despite its glitter, and fills men's
eyes and dims their vision like any other dust ; ending often in
a moral ophtalmia past cure.

" The plague of gold strikes far and near

And deep and strong it enters.
This purple chimar which we wear,

Makes madder than the centaur's ;
Our thoughts grow blank, our words grow strange,

We cheer the pale gold-diggers ;
Each soul is worth so much on 'Change,
And marked, like sheep, with figures.

Be pitiful, 0 God !"

" I should really dislike to think that you had become a con
firmed, inveterate chrysologist. Take time, Aubrey 1 take time ;
you are over-worked, and make months press upon your brow
more heavily than years on most men's. After all, my dear fel
low, as Emerson says, ' Politics is a deleterious profession, like
some poisonous handicrafts.' I sometimes feel like drawing a
long breath for you ; it wearies me to look at you — you are such
a concentrated extract of work 1 work ! Simply for this reason,
I sent for you to come and take a cup of tea with me."

" I have been too much engaged of late to spare an evening
to merely social claims. A man whose life rests at his feet, to
be lifted to some fitting pedestal, has lit tie leisure for the luxury
of friendly visiting."

The two were in Eric Mitchell's pleasant library. Russell sat
in an arm-chair, and the master of the house reclined on a lounge
drawn near the hearth. The mellow glow of the lamp, the flash
and crackle of the fire, the careless, lazy posture of the invalid,

244 MACAEIA ; OB,

all betokened quiet comfort, save the dark fixed face, and erect,
restless figure of the guest.

" But, Aubrey, a man who has already achieved so much
should be content to rest a while, and move more slowly."

" That depends altogether on the nature and distance of his
goal."

" And that goal is— what ?"

" Men call it by a variety of names, hoping to escape Lucifer's
fate by adroitly cloaking Lucifer's infirmity."

" Yes ; and whenever I look at you toiling so ceaselessly,
climbing so surely to eminence, I am forcibly reminded of Ma-
caulay's fine passage on the hollowness of political life : * A pur
suit from which, at most, they can only expect, by relinquishing
liberal studies and social pleasures, by passing nights without
sleep and summers without one glimpse of the beauty of nature,
they may attain that laborious, that invidious, that closely- watch
ed slavery which is mocked with the name of power.7 You have
not asked my opinion of your speech."

" I was not aware that you heard it."

"Of course not, but I read it ; and, let me tell you, it was a
great speech, a masterly argument, that will make a lasting im
pression upon the people. It has greatly changed the vote of
this county already."

" You mistake appearances ; the seed fell in good soil, but
party spirit camo, as fowls of the air, and devoured them."

" At any rate, it produced a profound impression on public
opinion, and startled some of our political patriarchs."

" No, a mere transitory effect ; they have folded their arms
and gone to sleep again. I am, of course, gratified by your fa
vorable appreciation of my effort, but I differ with you as to its
result. The plough-share of naked truth must thoroughly sub
soil the mind of the Southern states before the future of the
country is realized in any degree ; as yet, the surface has been
but slightly grazed. The hydra-headed foe of democracy is slow
ly but certainly coiling around our American eagle, and will
crush it, if not seared promptly. But, Mr. Mitchell, the ' flam
ing brands ' are not ready."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 245

" To what hydra do you allude ?"

" Demagog-ism, of course. Cleon was the prototype of a nu
merous class ; the school is flourishing vigorously at the North,
and no longer a stranger here. The people must root it out
speedily, or the days of our national existence are numbered."

" History proves it an invariable concomitant of democracy ;
rather a rank off-shoot from than antagonistic to it."

"You confound, the uso and abuse of a system. Civilization
is, indisputably, a blessing to our race, yet an abuse of the very
improvements and discoveries that constitute its glory, entails in
calculable sorrow, and swells criminal statistics. The march of
medical science has induced the administering of deadly poisons
with the happiest results, when skilfully directed ; yet it some
times happens that fatal effects follow an over-dose. Powerful
political levers should be handled judiciously — not thrown into
clutches of ignorant empirics."

" Universal suffrage is not your hobby, then ?"

" On the contrary, I hold, with one of the most brilliant
statesmen this country ever produced, that ' it is the Greek horse
introduced into the citidel of American liberties and sove
reignty.' "

" On my honor, I am astonished at hearing you quote and en
dorse a dictum of Hamilton. The millennium can't be far off,
when Democrats seek illustration from Federalism !"

" Bigotry in politics is as indefensible as in religion or science.
Truth is a sworn foe to monopolists ; is the exclusive right of no
one organization or party that ever waxed and waned. I am a
democrat ; I believe in liberal, enlarged, but not universal suf
frage ; it is a precious boon, and should be hedged about with
cautious restrictions. The creation of the ephori was a sort of
compromise measure, a concession to appease the people of Spar
ta, and, as an extension of the elective franchise, was most de
plorable in its results. Universal suffrage always recall to my
mind the pithy criticism of Anacharsis, the Scythian philosopher,
on the Solonian code, which lodged too much power in the hands
of the people : ' Wise men debate, but fools decide.' Mr. Mitch
ell, it matters little whether we have one or one hundred million

246 MACARIA; OB,

tyrants, if our rights are trampled ; it is a mere question of taste
whether you call the despot Czar, Dictator, or Ballot-box. The
masses are electrical, and valuable principles of government
should be kept beyond the reach of explosion."

" And, except in a powerful centralization, where could you
place them for safety 1"

" They are already deposited in the constitution. I would, in
order to secure them, extend our naturalization laws so as to re
strict the foreign vote, limit the right of suffrage by affixing a
property qualification, make the tenure of our judiciary offices
for life or good behavior, and lengthen the term of administra
tion of our chief magistrate, thereby diminishing the frequency
of popular elections, which, in offering premiums for demagog-
ism, has been a prolific cause of mischief. In examining the sta
tistics of the Northern and Western states recently, and noting
the dangerous results of the crude foreign vote, I was forcibly
reminded of a passage in Burke's ' Reflections on the French
Revolution ' : ' Those who attempt to level, never equalize. In
all societies, consisting of various descriptions of citizens, some
description must be uppermost. The levellers, therefore, only
change and pervert the natural order of things ; they load the
edifice of society by setting up in the air what the solidity of the
structure requires to be on the ground.' The day is not far dis
tant, I fear, when European paupers, utterly ignorant of our in
stitutions, will determine who shall sit in the presidential chair ,
and how far the constitution shall be observed. These are grave
truths, which the enlightened body of the American people
should ponder well ; but, instead, they are made mere catch
words for party purposes, and serve only to induce a new scram
ble for office. It requires no extraordinary prescience to pre
dict that the great fundamental principles of this government
will soon become a simple question of arithmetic — will lie at the
mercy of an unscrupulous majority. The surging waves of North
ern faction and fanaticism already break ominously against
our time-honored constitutional dykes, and if the South would
strengthen her bulwarks there is no time to be slept or wrangled
away ."

ALTABS OF SACETFICE. 247

As he spoke, Russell's eye fell upon a large oval vase on the
mantle-piece filled with rare exotics, whose graceful tendrils were
tastefully disposed into a perfumed fringe. Rising, he looked
carefully at the brilliant hues, and said, as he bent to inhale their
fragrance :

" Where do you grow such flowers at this season V

" Irene brings them almost everyday from the green-house tfh
the hill. She takes a peculiar pleasure in arranging them in
my vases. I think she stood a half-hour yesterday twining and
bending those stems the way she wanted them to hang. They
are so brittle that I snap the blossoms off, but in her hands they
seem pliable enough."

Russell withdrew the fingers which had wandered caressingly
amid the delicate leaves, and, reseating himself, took a book from
his pocket.

" Mr. Mitchell, I dare say you recollect a discussion which we
had, some months ago, regarding the Homeric unity question ?
Since that time I have been looking into Payne Knight's views
on the subject, and am more than ever convinced that the Ger
man theory is incorrect. I will read a portion of his argument,
and leave the book for you to examine at your leisure."

" By all means ! But I thought your red-tape gyves kept you
from archaeologic researches ?"

" It is true they do bind me tighter than I sometimes relish ;
but we are all in bondage, more or less, and, since one must sub
mit to tyranny, I prefer a stern master." He drew his chair
nearer the lamp, and began to read aloud. Nearly a half-hour
passed thus, when the library door was opened hastily, and Irene
came in, dressed magnificently in party costume. She stood a
moment, irresolute and surprised, with her eyes fixed on Russell's,
then both bowed silently, and she came to the fire.

"How are you, uncle Eric? You look flushed, feverish."
She laid her cold pearly hand on his forehead, and stood at his
side.

" Tolerably comfortable, thanks to Mr. Aubrey, who has made
me almost forget my headache. You will be fashionably late at
the party to-night."

248 MACAEIA ; OR,

" Yes ! as usual ; but for a better reason than because I wish
to be fashionable. I wanted to know how you were, and, as father
was not quite ready, I came in advance, and sent the carriage
back for him and Hugh. I was not aware that you were in Mr.
Aubrey's hands for the evening. You were reading, I believe ;
pardon my intrusion, and do not let me interrupt you."

" Sit down, Irene ; here, child, where I can look at you. We
'an both bear such. an interruption."

Russell closed the volume, but kept his finger in the leaves,
and his fascinated eyes went back to the face and form of the
heiress. The dress was of heavy blue silk, with an over-skirt
and bertha of rich white lace, looped with bunches of violets and
geranium leaves. The rippling hair was drawn smoothly over
the pure brow, and coiled at the back of the head under a blue
and silver netting, from which fuchsias of turquoise • and pearl
hung low on the polished neck. The arms and shoulders gleam
ed like ivory as the lamp-light glowed over her ; and, save the
firm, delicate crimson lips, there was no stain of color in the cold
but superbly beautiful face. It was the first time they had met
since that evening at the cemetery, many months before. Lift
ing her splendid violet eyes, she met his gaze an instant, and,
tapping the book, Russell asked, with quiet nonchalance :

"Where do you stand, Miss Huntingdon, in this vexed
Wolfian controversy concerning the authorship of the Iliad and
Odyssey ?"

" I would render unto Ca3sar the things that are Caesar's."
" Equivocal, of course ! — a woman's answer," laughed her un
cle.

" Explicitly, then, I believe that, as Scott absorbed the crude
minstrelsy of Scotland, and reproduced national songs and le
gends under a fairer, sweeter form, so Homer, grand old blind
eclectic, gathered the fragmentary myths of heroic ages, and,
clothing them with the melody of wandering Greek rhapsodists,
gave to the world his wonderful epic — the first and last speci
men of composite poetic architecture."

" You ascribe the Odyssey, then, to a different author and a
later period ?" asked Mr. Mitchell.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 249

" I am too little versed in philology to determine so grave a
question. My acquaintance with Greek is limited, and I am not
competent to the task of considering all the evidence in favor of
the identity of authorship."

She put on her white cashmere cloak, and stood still a moment,
listeni ng.

" Good-night, uncle Eric ; the carriage is coming. I believe
I should know the tramp of those horses amid a regiment of cav
alry."

" Why need you hurry off ? Let your father come in."

" I will spare him that trouble. Good-night, Mr. Aubrey."

She turned to leave the room, but, in gathering her cloak
around her, dropped her fan. Russell stooped to pick it up, and,
as he restored it, their hands met. His brow flushed, but not
even the pale* pearly glow of a sea-shell crept to her cheek.
Again she raised her eyes to his, and a haughty, dazzling smile
flashed over her face as she inclined her head.

" Thank you, sir."

There was a brief silence, broken by Eric, when the sound of
the carriage had died away.

" Irene is the only perfectly beautiful woman I ever saw ; and
yet, Aubrey, it makes me sad to watch her countenance."

" Whenever I see her I can not avoid recalling an old Scan
dinavian myth, she realizes so fully my ideal Iduna, standing at
the portals of Valhalla, offering apples of immortality."

He returned at once to his book and read several pages, occa
sionally pausing to call attention to some special passage j final
ly he rose, and took his hat.

" It is early yet, Aubrey ; don't go."

" Thank you ; I must fulfill another engagement."

" A word before you leave ; will you be a candidate for the
legislature ?"

" Yes ; I was waited upon by a committee to-day, and my
name will be announced to-morrow. Good-night."

Slowly he walked back to town, and, once upon the main
street, took a new pair of gloves from his pocket, fitted them
carefully, and directed his steps to the elegant residence, whose

11*

250 MACARIA; OK,

approach was well nigh blocked up with carriages. This was
the second time that he had been invited by the Hendersons, and
he had almost determined to decline as formerly, but something
in Irene's chill manner changed his resolution. He knew, from
various circumstances, that the social edict against him was
being revoked in fashionable circles ; that because he had risen
without its permission, aid, or countenance, and in defiance of its
sneers, the world was beginning to court him. A gloomy scowl
sat on his stern lips as he mounted the steps of the mansion from
which his meek and suffering mother had borne bundles of plain
work, or delicate masses of embroidery, for the mother and
daughter who passed her in the street with a supercilious stare.
Beau-monde suddenly awoke to the recollection that, " after all,
Mrs. Aubrey belonged to one of the wealthiest and first families
in the state." At first Russell had proudly repelled all over
tures, but gradually he was possessed by a desire to rule in the
very circle which had so long excluded his family. Most fully he
appreciated his position and the motives which actuated the social

autocrats of W ; he was no longer the poor disgraced

clerk, but the talented young lawyer, and prospective heir of Mr.
Campbell's wealth. Bitterly, bitterly came memories of early
trial, and now the haughtiness of Irene's manner stung him as
nothing else could possibly have done. He was at a loss to
comprehend this change in one who had dared so much in order
to assist his family, and proud defiance arose in his heart. It
was ten o'clock, the fete was at its height ; the sound of music,
the shimmer of jewels, and rustle of costly silks mingled with the
hum of conversation, and the tread of dancing feet as Russell
deposited hat and over-coat in the dressing-room and entered the
blazing parlors. The quadrille had just ended, and gay groups
chattered in the centre of the room ; among these, Maria Hen
derson, leaning on Hugh's arm, and Grace Harris, who had been
dancing with Louis Henderson. As Russell crossed the floor to
speak to the host and hostess, all eyes turned upon him, and a
sudden hush fell on the merry dancers.

" Coaxed at last within the pale of civilization 1 how did you
contrive it, Louis ?" asked Maria.

ALTAES OF SACEIFICE. 251

" Oh ! he declined when I invited him ; but I believe father
saw him afterward and renewed the request. Do observe him
talking to mother ; he is as polished as if he had spent his life at
court."

" lie is a man whom I never fancied ; but that two hours
speech of his was certainly the finest effort I ever listened to.
Caesar's ambition was moderate in comparison with Aubrey's ;
and, somehow, even against my will, I can't help admiring him,
he is so coolly independent," said Hugh, eyeing him curiously.

" I heard father say that the Democrats intend to send him
to the legislature next term, and the opposition are bothered to
match him fully. By the way, they speak of Mr. Huntingdon
for their candidate. But here comes your hero, Miss Maria."
As he spoke, Charlie Harris drew back a few steps, and suffered
Russell to speak to the young lady of the house. Irene stood
not far off, talking to the Governor of the state, who chanced

to be on a brief visit to W , and quite near her Judge

Harris and her father were in earnest conversation. Astonished
at the sudden apparition, her eyes followed him as he bowed to
the members of the central group ; and as she heard the deep,
rich voice above the buzz of small talk, she waited to see if he

would notice her. Soon Governor G gave her his arm for

a promenade, and she found herself, ere long, very near Maria,
who wa,s approaching with Russell. He was saying something,
at which she laughed delightedly ; just then his eye fell on Irene;
there was no token of recognition on the part of either ; but the
Governor, in passing, put out his hand to shake Russell's, and
asked for Mr. Campbell. Again and again they met during the
ensuing hour, but no greeting was exchanged ; then he disap
peared. As Irene leaned against the window-frame in the
crowded supper-room she heard Charlie Harris gaily bantering
Maria on the events of the evening.

"What have you done with Aubrey ? I will challenge him
before to-morrow morning, for cutting me out of my schottische
with his prosy chat."

" Oh 1 he left a half-hour ago ; excused himself to mother, 011
the plea of starting off to court at daybreak. He is perfectlv

252 MAOAKIA ; OK,

fascinating ; don't you think so, Grace ? Such eyes and lips !
and such a forehead !"

" Don't appeal to me for corroboration, I beg of you, Maria,
for you really gave nobody else an opportunity of judging. Take
a- friendly hint, and do not betray your admiration so publicly,"
answered the friend, pouting her pretty childish lip.

" I see clearly that the remainder of us may as well go hang
ourselves at once for any future favor we can expect, since My
Lord Aubrey condescends to enter the lists. Miss Irene,. I have
not heard you rhapsodizing yet about the new sensation."

" I rarely rhapsodize about anything, sir."

" To whom does he allude," asked Governor G •, good-

liumoredly."

" To Mr. Aubrey, who is no stranger to you, I believe."

" Ah ! Campbell's partner. I have had some correspondence
with him recently, and when I met him at his office yesterday I
was no longer surprised at the tone of his letters. His intellect
is one of the keenest in the state ; his logical and analytical
powers are of the rarest order. I shall watch his career with
great interest. Campbell may justly be proud of him."

If she had felt any inclination to reply, the expression of her
father's face discouraged her. He had joined them in time to
Jiear the Governor's eulogiurn, and she saw a sneer distort his
features as he listened. Daring the drive homeward, Mr. Hun
tingdon suddenly interrupted a strain of Hugh's nonsense by
exclaiming :

" People have certainly lost common-sense I Their memory
is not as long as my little finger."

" What is the matter, sir ? With what recent proof of im
becility have they favored you ?"

" The idea of that upstart wheedling this community is utterly
preposterous. His impudence is absolutely astounding. I am
astonished that Henderson should give him countenance !"

" The world has a strange criteria to determine its verdicts.
His father was sentenced to be hung for committing murder ;
and my uncle, Clement Huntingdon, who deliberately shot a
man dead in a duel, was received in social circles as cordially as

ALTA11S OF SACRIFICE. 253

if his hands wore not blood-stained. There was more of pallia
tion in the first case (one of man-slaughter), for it was the hasty,
accidental work of a moment of passion ; in the last a cool, pre
meditated taking of human life. But the sensitive, fastidious
world called one brutal and disgraceful and the other ' honorable
satisfaction/ in which gentlemen could indulge with impunity
by crossing state lines. O tempora ! O mores f"

As Irene uttered these words, she involuntarily crushed her
bouquet and threw it from her, while Hugh expected an explo
sion of wrath on the part of his uncle. He merely muttered an
oath, however, and smoked his cigar in sullen silence, leaving
the cousins to discuss the events of the party during the remain
der of the ride.

Once more in his own room, at the quiet boarding-house,
Russell lighted the gas-burner over a small desk, and sat down
to a mass of papers. The apartment was cold ; the fire had
long since died out ; the hearth looked ashy and desolate.
There was nothing home-like or cosy in the aspect of the room ;
the man lived at his office, and this was but a place to pass the
brief unconscious hours of sleep. He had no home-life, no social
existence ; was fast becoming callous, impervious to the gentler
emotions and kindly sympathies which domestic ties foster and
develop. No womanly touch left pleasant traces here, as iii
Eric's home ; no graceful, luxurious trifles met the eye ; all
things were cold, and prim, and formal. He had no kindred and
few friends, but unbounded aspiration stood in lieu of both.
Fortunately for him, his great physical strength enabled him to
pursue a course of study which men of feebler constitution could
never have endured. On the desk lay several volumes, carefully
annotated for future reference — Ricardo, Malthus, Say, and
Smith. To these he turned, and busied himself in transferring
such excerpts as suited his purpose to an unfinished MS. design
ed for future legislative service. The brilliant smile which
lighted his face an hour before, imparting an irresistible charm,
had wholly faded, leaving the features to their wonted grave immo
bility — the accustomed non-committalism of the business man of
the world. The measured tones of the watchman on the town-

254: MAC ART A ; OK,

tower recalled him, finally, from the cold realm of political
economy ; he closed the books, took off his watch and wound it
up. It wanted but three hours to dawn ; but he heeded it not ;
the sight of the massive old watch brought vividly back the
boyish days of sorrow, and he sat thinking of that morning of
shame, when Irene came close to him, nestling her soft little
hand in his, and from some long-silent, dark, chill chamber of
memory leaped sweet, silvery, childish echoes :

" Oh, Russell 1 if I could only help you 1"

With an involuntary sigh he arose, and walking to the shirnney,
leaned his elbow on the mantle. But it would not answer ; the
faint, delicious perfume of violets seemed to steal up from the
gray ashes on the hearth, and the passionless, peerless face of a
queenly woman followed him from the haunts of fashion. The
golden-haired dream of his early yauth had lost none of her former
witchery ; she only shared the mastery of his heart with stern,
unrelaxing ambition, and the gulf which divided them only en
hanced the depth, the holiness of his love for her. Since his
return from Europe he had accustomed himself to think of her
as Hugh's wife ; but he found it daily more difficult to realize
that she could willingly give her hand to her heedless, self-indul
gent cousin ; and now the alteration in her manner toward him
perplexed and grieved him. Did she suspect the truth, and fear
that. he might presume on her charity, in by-gone years? To
his proud spirit this was a suggestion singularly insulting, and
he had resolved to show her in future that he claimed not even a
nod of recognition. Instead of avoiding her as formerly he
would seek occasions to exhibit an indifference which he little
thought that her womanly heart would rightly interpret. He
had found it more difficult than he supposed to keep his attention
chained to Maria's and Grace's gay nonsense ; to prevent his
eyes from wandering to the face whose image was enshrined in
his lonely heart ; and now, with complex feelings of tenderness
and angry defiance, he sought his pillow for a short respite bo-
fore the journey that waited but for daylight.

For a few weeks ajl W was astir with interest in the

impending election ; newspaper columns teemed with caustic

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 255

art icles, and Huntingdon and Aubrey clubs villified each other
with the usual acrimony of such occasions. Mr. Campbell's
influence was extensive, but the Huntingdon supporters were
powerful, and the result seemed doubtful until the week previ
ous to the election, when Russell, who had as yet taken no
active part, accepted the challenge of his opponent to a public
discussion. The meeting was held in front of the court-house,
the massive stone steps serving as a temporary rostrum. The
night was dark and cloudy, but huge bonfires, blazing barrels
of pitch, threw a lurid glare over the broad street, now converted
into a surging sea of human heads.

Surrounded by a committee of select friends, Mr. Huntingdon
sat, confident of success ; and when the hiss of rockets ceased, he
came forward and addressed the assembly in an hour's speech.
As a warm and rather prominent politician, he was habituated
to the task, and bursts of applause from his own party frequently
attested the effect of his easy, graceful style, and pungent irony.
Blinded by personal hate, and hurried on by the excitement of
the hour, he neglected the cautious policy which had hitherto
been observed, and finally launched into a fierce philippic against
his antagonist — holding up for derision the melancholy fate of
his father, and sneeringly denouncing the " audacious pretensions
of a political neophyte."

Groans and hisses greeted this unexpected peroration, and
many of his own friends bit their lips, and bent their brows iu
angry surprise, as he took his seat amid an uproar which would
have been respectable even in the days of the builders of Ba,-
bel. Russell was sitting on the upper step, with his head lean
ing on his hand, and his eyes fixed on the mass of up-turned,
eager faces, listening patiently to the lengthy address, expecting
just what he was destined to hear. At the mention of his family
misfortunes he lifted his head, rose, and advancing a few steps,
took off his hat, and stood confronting the speaker in full view of
the excited crowd. And there the red light, flaring over his
features, showed a calm, stern, self-reliant man, who felt that he
had nothing to blush for in the past or to dread in future.
When the tirade ended, when the tumult ceased and silence fell

256 MACARIA: OK,

upon the audience, he turned and fixed his deep, glowing eyes full
on the face of his opponent for one moment, smiling haughtily ;
then, as Mr. Huntingdon quailed before his withering gaze, he
crossed his arms over his chest, and addressed the meeting.

He came, he said, to discuss questions of grave import to the
state, not the pedigree or antecedents of his antagonist, with
which, he supposed, the public had no concern. He could not
condescend to the level of the gentleman ; was not a proficient,
not his equal in slang phrases, or gross, vulgar vituperation, and
scorned to farther insult the good taste of his hearers by ac
quainting them with the contemptible motives of the individual
hatred which had induced his opponet to forget what the rules
of good breeding and etiquette imperatively demanded. He
would not continue to disgrace the occasion by any refutation
of the exceedingly irrelevant portion of the preceding harangue,
which related to purely personal matters, and was unworthy of
notice, but asked the attention of his hearers for a few moments,
while he analyzed the platform of his party. Briefly he stated
the issues dividing the people of the state ; warned the opposi
tion of the probable results of their policy, if triumphant ; and,
with resistless eloquence, pleaded for a firm maintenance of the
principles of his own party. He was, he averred, no alarmist,
but he proclaimed that the people slept upon the thin heaving crust
of a volcano, which would inevitably soon burst forth ; and the
period was rapidly approaching when the Southern states, unless
united and on the alert, would lie bound at the feet of an inso
lent and rapacious ^Northern faction. He demanded that,
through the legislatures, the states should appeal to Congress
for certain restrictions and guarantees, which, if denied, would
justify extreme measures on the part of the people. The man's
marvellous magnetism was never more triumphantly attested ;
the mass, who had listened in profound silence to every syllabic
which had passed his lips, now vented their enthusiasm in pro
longed and vociferous applause, and vehement cries of " Go on 1
go on !" The entire absence of stereotyped rhodomontade ren
dered his words peculiarly impressive, as he gave them utter
ance with no visible token of enthusiasm. He did not lash the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 257

passions of the populace into a passing phrensy, but effectually
stirred the great deep of sober feeling and sound sense. With
his elegant, graceful delivery, and polished, sparkling diction, he
stood, as it were, on some lofty cool pedestal, and pointed uner
ringly to coming events, whose shadows had not yet reached them,
of which they had not dreamed before, and it was not wonderful
that the handsome young speaker became an idol to be worship
ed afar off.

As he descended the steps and disappeared amid the shouts of
the crowd, Judge Harris turned to Mr. Huntingdon and said,
with ill-concealed annoyance :

" You have lost your election by your confounded impru
dence."

" That remains to be seen, sir," was the petulant rejoinder.

" It is a foregone conclusion," muttered Dr. Arnold, button
ing his over-coat, and looking around for his cane.

" I have sworn a solemn oath that I will trample the upstart
out of existence, at least politically !"

" As well try to trample on the stars yonder I Your speech,
ruined you, I am afraid !"

The judge walked off, pondering a heavy bet which he had re*
lative to the result.

By sunrise on the day of the election the roads leading to town
were crowded with voters making their way to the polls. The
drinking-saloons were full to overflowing ; the side-walks throng
ed with reeling groups as the day advanced. Because the Hunt
ingdon side bribed freely, the Aubrey partisans felt that they
must, from necessity, follow the disgraceful precedent. Not a
lady showed her face upon the street ; drinking, wrangling, fight
ing was the order of the day. Windows were smashed, buggies
overturned, and the police exercised to the utmost. Accompa
nied by a few friends, Mr. Huntingdon rode from poll to poll,
encouraging his supporters, and drawing heavily upon his purse,
while Russell remained quietly in his office, well assured of the
result. At five o'clock, when the town polls closed, Russell's
votes showed a majority of two hundred and forty-four. Couriers
came in constantly from country precincts, with equally favora-

258 MACARIA; OK,

ble accounts, and at ten o'clock it was ascertained, beyond
doubt, that lie was elected. Irene and her uncle rode down to
learn the truth, and, not knowing'where to find Mr. Huntingdon,
stopped the carriage at the corner of the main street, and waited
a few moments. Very soon a rocket whizzed through the air,
a band of music struck up before Russell's office, and a number
of his adherents insisted that lie should show himself on the bal
cony. A crowd immediately collected opposite, cheering the suc
cessful candidate, and calling for a speech. He came out, and,
in a few happy, dignified words, thanked them for the honor con
ferred, and pledged himself to guard most faithfully the interests
committed to his keeping. After the noisy constituents had re
tired, he stood talking to some friends, when he chanced to recog
nize the fiery horses across the street. The carriage-top was
thrown back, and by the neighboring gas-light he saw Irene's
white face turned toward him, then the horses sprang off. Mr.
Campbell noticed, without understanding, the sudden start, and
bitter though triumphant smile that crossed his face in the midst
of pleasant gratulations.

" Go home, Andrew. I know now what I came to learn."

Irene sank back and folded her mantle closer around her.

" Is master elected ?"

" No."

" Your father's speech, last week, was most unfortunate in
every respect," said her uncle, who felt indignant and mortified
at the course pursued by his brother-in-law.

" We will not discuss it, if you please, uncle Eric, as it is en
tirely useless now."

" Don't you think that Aubrey deserves to succeed ?"

" Yes."

Her dreary tone disconcerted him, and he offered no farther
comment, little suspecting that her hands were pressed hard
against her heart, and that her voiceless sorrow was : " Hence
forth we must be still more estranged ; a wider gulf, from this
night, divides us." x

The din, the tumult of the day, had hushed itself, and deep si
lence brooded over the sleeping town, when, by the light of the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 259

newly-risen moon, Russell leaned upon the little gate and gazed
on the neglected cottage, overgrown with vines and crumbling to
ruin. A sweet, resigned face smiled at him once more from the
clustering tendrils that festooned the broken window, where, in
other years, his mother had been wont to sit at work, watching
for his return ; and, in this hour of his first triumph, as he sought
the hallowed spot, and thought of her long martyrdom, recollec
tion rolled its troubled waves over his throbbing, exultant heart,
until the proud head drooped on the folded arms, and tears fell
upon the mouldering gate.

*' Oh, mother ! mother ! if you could have lived to see this
day — to share my victory 1"

" Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood,
Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.

*******
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces !"

CHAPTER XXII.

THE icy breath of winter, the mild wandering airs of spring,
the luxurious laissez-nous-faire murmurs of summer, and the sol
emn moan of autumn, had followed each other in rapid succes
sion. Two years rolled on, stained with the tears of many, ring
ing with the songs and laughter of a fortunate few. The paths
of some had widened into sunny pastures, flower-starred, Crida-
vana meadows ; others had grown narrower still, choked with
the debris of dead hopes, which the tide of time drifted from the
far-off glittering peaks of early aspirations. The witchery of

Southern spring again enveloped W , and Irene stood on

the lawn surveying the "greenery of the out-door world" that
surrounded her. Peach and plum orchards on the slope of a
neighboring hill wore their festal robes of promise, and as the
loitering breeze stole down to the valley, they showered rosy per
fumed shells, tiny avant couriers of abundant fruitage. The

260 MACAEIA; OB,

air was redolent with delicate distillations from a thousand flow
ery laboratories, stately magnolias rustled their polished shim
mering leaves, long-haired acacias trailed their fringy shadows
over the young wavering grass-blades ; and, far above the soft
green wilderness of tangled willows, regal pines spread out their
wind-harps, glittering in the -sunshine like spiculse of silver. A
delicious langor brooded in the atmosphere, the distant narrow
valleys were full of purple haze ; beyond and above the town,
that nestled so peacefully along the river banks, the marble fin
gers of the cemetery gleamed white and cold ; and afar off, and
over all, was heard the measured music of factory bells, chanting
a hymn to sacred and eternal Labor. With her brown straw
hat in one hand and a willow-basket filled with flowers in the
other, Irene leaned against the glossy trunk of an an-cient wild-
cherry tree, and looked in dreamy abstraction down the long
shadowy vista of venerable elms. Paragon lay panting on the
grass at her feet, now and then snapping playfully at the tame
pigeons who had followed their mistress out upon the lawn, flut
tering and cooing continually around her ; and a few yards off
a golden pheasant and two peacocks sunned their gorgeous plu
mage on the smoothly-cut. hedges.

" Some faces show

The last act of a tragedy in their regard,
Though the first scenes be wanting ;"

and in this woman's sad but intensely calm countenance, a joy
less life found silent history. The pale forehead bore not a single
line, the quiet mouth no ripple marks traced by rolling years ;
but the imperial eyes, coldly blue as the lonely ice-girt Marjelen-
See, revealed, in their melancholy crystal depths, the dreary iso
lation of soul with which she had been cursed from infancy. Her
face was an ivory tablet inscribed with hieroglyphics which no
social, friendly Champollion had yet deciphered. Satiated with
universal homage, weary of the frivolity of the gay circle sur
rounding her, and debarred from all hope of affectionate, sympa
thetic intercourse with her father, her real life was apart from
the world in which report said that she ruled supreme. She wan

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 261

dered in the primeval temples of nature, and ministered, a soli
tary priestess, at the silent, blazing shrine of Astronomy. The
soft folds of her white muslin dress stirred now and then, and the
blue ribbons that looped back her braided hair fluttered like
mimic pennons in the breeze ; but the clematis bells which clus
tered around her cameo pin were unshaken by the slow pulsa
tions of her sad heart. She felt that her life was passing rapidly,
unimproved, and aimless ; she knew that her years, instead of
being fragrant with the mellow fruitage of good deeds, were te
dious and joyless, and that the gaunt, numbing hand of ennui
was closing upon her. The elasticity of spirits, the buoyancy of
youth had given place to a species of stoical mute apathy ; a men
tal and moral paralysis was stealing over her.

The slamming of the ponderous iron gate attracted her atten
tion, and she saw a carriage ascending the avenue. As it reach
ed a point opposite to the spot where she stood it halted, the
door was thrown open, and a gentleman stepped out and ap
proached her. The form was not familiar, and the straw hat
partially veiled the features, but he paused before her, and said,
with a genial smile :

" Don't you know me ?"

" Oh, Harvey ! My brother ! My great guardian angel I"

A glad light kindled in her face, and she stretched out her
hands with the eagerness of a delighted child. Time had pressed
heavily upon him ; wrinkles were conspicuous about the corners
of his eyes and mouth, and the black hair had become a steely
gray. He was not

" A little sunburnt by the glare of life,''

but weather-beaten by its storms ; and, in lieu of the idiosyncra
tic placidity of former days, a certain restlessness of expression
betokened internal disquiet. Holding her hands, he drew her
nearer to him, scrutinized her features, and a look of keen sor
row crossed his own as he said, almost inaudibly :

" I feared as much ! I feared as much ! The shadow has
spread."

" You kept Punic faith with me, sir ; you promised to write,
and failed. I sent you one letter, but it was never answered."

262 MACAKIA ; OR,

" Through no fault of mine, Irene ; I never received it, be-
lieve me. True, I expected to write to you frequently when I
parted with you, but subsequently determined that it would be
best not to do so. Attribute my silence, however, to every other
cause than want of remembrance."

" Your letters would have been a great stay and comfort to
me."

" Precisely for that reason I sent none. I knew that you
must rely upon yourself ; that I could not properly judge of the
circumstances which surrounded and influenced you. One, at
least, of my promises has been faithfully fulfilled : I have prayed
for you as often as for myself in all these years of separation."

" God only knows how I have wanted, how I have needed
you, to guide and strengthen me."

She raised the two hands that still held hers, and bowed her
forehead upon them.

" You had a better friend, dear child, always near you, who
would have given surer guidance and borne all your burdens.
What I most dreaded has come to pass. You have forgotten
your God."

" No ! indeed, no ! but He has forsaken me."

" Come and sit down here, and fell me what the trouble is."

He led her to a circular seat surrounding a venerable oak,
and placed himself where he could command a full view of
her face.

" Mr. Young, you must have had a hard life out west ; you
have grown old so fast since I saw you. But you have been
doing good, and that is sufficient recompense."

" I have, of course, endured some hardships inseparable from
such a long sojourn on the frontier, but my labors have been so
successful that I forget everything in my great reward. Many
a fair June day I have wished that you could see my congrega
tion, as we stood up to sing in a cool, shady grove of beech or
hackberry, offering our orisons in ' God's first temples.' No
brick and mortar walls, but pavements of God's own living green,
and dome of blue, and choir of sinless, consecrated birds. My
little log cabin in the far West is very dear to me, for around it

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 263

cluster some of the most precious reminiscences of my life. The
greatest of my unsatisfied wants was that of congenial companion
ship. I betook myself to gardening in self-defence, and finer an
nuals you never saw than those which I raised on my hill-side.
My borders I made of mignonette, and the rusty front of my
cabin I draped with beautiful festoons of convolvulus. My her
mitage was pleasant enough, though humble indeed."

" Tell me the secret of your quiet contentment. By what spell
do you invoke the atmosphere of happy serenity that constantly
surrounds you ?"

" It is neither occult nor cabalistic ; you will find it contained
in the few words of Paul : ' Be ye steadfast, unmoveable, always
abounding in the work of the Lord ; forasmuch as ye know that
your labor is not in vain in the Lord.' There is nothing recon
dite in this injunction ; all may comprehend and practice it."

" It may seem so to you, who dispense peace and blessings
wherever you move ; but to me, alone and useless, cut off from
such a sphere of labor, it might as well be locked up in Parsee.
I thought once that God created every human being for some
particular work — some special mission. That, in order that the
vast social machinery of the world might move harmoniously,
each had his or her allotted duties in accordance with the great
fundamental law of economy — 'division of labor.7 But, like
many other youthful theories, I have been compelled to part
with this, also."

" Rather hold fast to it, for the precious truth it is. Do you
not find, on reflection, that the disarrangement, the confusion in
this same social mill proves that some of the human cogs are
broken, or out of place, or not rendering their part ? I am
older than you, and have traveled farther, and I have yet to see
the New Atlantis, where every member of society discharges
fully the duties assigned.

" ' I might say, in a world full of lips that lack bread,
And of souls that lack light, there are mouths to be fed,
There are wounds to be healed, there is work to be done,
And life can withhold love and duty from none !' "

" Irene, ' why stand ye here all the day idle ?' Why wait

264: MACAKIA ; OK,

afar off to glean, where you should be a busy reaper in God'a
whitening harvest-fields ? — closing your ears to the eager cry,
' The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few 1"

A wintry smile flitted over her lips, and she shook her
head.

" Ah, sir ! long ago I marked out a different programme ;
but my hands are tied. I am led along another path ; I can do
nothing now."

11 You owe allegiance first to your Maker. What stands be
tween you and your work ? Irene, tell me, what is this dark
cloud that shuts out sunshine from your heart, and throws such
a chill shadow over your face ?"

He drew down the hand with which she shaded her eyes, and
bent his head till the gray locks touched her cheek. She did
not shrink away, but looked at him steadily, and answered :

" It is a cloud that 'enveloped me from the hour of my birth,
and grows denser each year ; I can neither escape from nor dis
sipate it. It will not break in storms and clear away ; but, per
chance, as I go down to my tomb the silver lining may show
itself. The sun was eclipsed when I first opened my eyes in this
world, and my future was faithfully adumbrated. I am not
superstitious, but I cannot be blind to the striking analogy — the
sombre symbolism."

His grave face was painfully convulsed as he listened to her,
and it was with difficulty that he restrained himself from draw
ing the head to his shoulder, and revealing all the depth and
strength of love which had so loug ruled his heart and saddened
his life. But he merely enclosed her hand in both his with a
gentle pressure, and said :

" Carry out your metaphor, and at least you must admit that,
though the sun was eclipsed, stars come out to light you."

" But, at best, one shivers and gropes through the cold light
of stars, and mine have all set in a clouded sky. You only are
left to me ; you shine on me still, undimmed, all the brighter for
my gloom. Oh ! if I could have you always. But as well
stretch out my hands to clutch the moon."

He started, and looked at her wistfully, but the utter passion-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 265

V

lessness of her face and manner showed him all too plainly the
nature of her feelings and her ignorance of his own.

" Irene, you deal in similies and vague generalities. Has ab
sence shaken your confidence in me ? Be frank ; tell me
what this haunting trouble is, and let me help you to exor
cise it."

" You can not. All the Teraphim of the East would not
avail. Let it suffice that, many years since, I displeased my
father in a trifling matter ; and, as I grew older, my views and
wishes conflicted with his. I disappointed a darling plan which
he had long cherished, and we are estranged. We live here,
father and daughter, in luxury ; we give and go to parties and
dinners ; before the world we keep up the semblance of affection
and good feeling ; but he can not, will not, forgive me. I have
ceased to ask or to expect it ; the only possible condition of re
conciliation is one to which I can never consent ; and, for more
than two years, he has scarcely spoken to me except when com
pelled to do so. I pass my days in a monotonous round, wishing
for to-morrow, and my nights yonder, among the stars. I have
little money to dispense in charity ; I dress richly, but the ma
terials are selected by my father, who will have my clothing of
the costliest fabrics, to suit his elegant and fastidious taste.
Though an only child, and presumptive heiress of one of the finest
estates at the South, I have not a dime in the world which I can
call my own, except a small sum which he voluntarily allows me
per annum. Mark you, I do not complain of my father — for, in
the twinkling of an eye, I could change this unnatural position of
affairs in my home ; I only mention some stern facts to prove to
you that my hands are tied. It was once the fondest desire of
my life to expend the fortune that I supposed belonged to me in
alleviating suffering and want, and making people happy around
me ; but, like other dewy sparkles of childhood, this hope
vanished as the heat and strife of life overtook me."

She spoke in a low, rneasured tone, unshaken by emotion, and
the expression of dreary abstraction showed that she had long
accustomed herself to this contemplation of her lot. The minis-

12

266 MACARIA; OR,

ter was deeply moved as he watched her beautiful calm features,
so hushed in their joylessness, and he passed his hand across his
eyes to wipe away the moisture that so unwontedly dimmed
them. He pressed her fingers to his lips, and said, encour
agingly —

" Lift thyself up ! oh, thou of saddened face !
Cease from thy sighing, draw from out thy heart
The joyful light of faith."

" You asked me once to be your brother ; my dear child, let
me prove myself such now ; let me say that, perhaps, it is your
duty to yield obedience to your father's wishes, since this deplor
able alienation results from your refusal. You never can be
happy, standing in this unnatural relation to an only parent.
Because it is painful, and involves a sacrifice on your part, should
you consider it any the less your duty ? Has he not a right to
expect that his wishes should guide you ?"

She rose instantly, and, withdrawing her hands, folded them
together, and replied, with an indescribable mingling of hauteur
iwad sorrow :

" Has he a right to give my hand to a man whom I do not
'ove ? Has he a right to drag me to the altar, and force me to
jwear to ' love and honor' one whom I can not even respect ?
Could you stand by and see your father doom your sister to
such a miserable fate ? I would consent to die for my father
to-morrow, if thereby I might make him happy ; but I can not
endure to live, and bring upon myself the curse of a loveless
marriage ; and God is my witness, I never will 1"

Her eyes gleamed like blue steel, and the stern, gem-like fea
tures vividly reminded him of a medal of the noble Medusa which
he had frequently examined and admired while in Home. In
that brief flash he saw, with astonishment, that beneath the
studiedly calm exterior lay an iron will, and a rigidness of pur
pose, which he had never conjectured belonged to her character.

"Forgive me, Irene ; I retract my words. Ignorant of the
nature of the demand, I should not have presumed to counsel
you. Keep true to the instincts of your own heart, and you
will never go far astray in the path of duty. May God bless and

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 267

comfort you ! Other friends can lend you no assistance in these
peculiar circumstances."

He could not trust himself to say more, ' for feelings too pain
ful for utterance stirred the depths of his soul.

For some moments silence reigned ; then, standing before him,
Irene said, with touching pathos :

" My friend, I am so desolate ! so lonely I I am drifting
down the current of life aimless, hopeless, useless ! What shall
I do with my future ? I believe I am slowly petrifying ; I
neither suffer nor enjoy as formerly ; my feelings are deadened ;
I am growing callous, indifferent to everything. I am fast los
ing sympathy for the sorrows of others, swallowed up in self,
oblivious of the noble aspirations of promise. I am cut off from
companionship ; have no friend save an uncle, to whom I could
put out my hand for support. People talk of the desolation of
Western wilds and Eastern deserts ; but, oh ! God knows there
is no isolation comparable to that of a woman who walks daily
through halls of wealth and gay saloons, knowing that no hu
man being understands or truly sympathises with her. My pro
phet ! as you long ago foretold, I am ' treading the wine-press
alone.' Once more I ask you, what shall I do with my life ?"

" Give it to God."

" Ah ! there is neither grace nor virtue in necessity. He will
not accept the worthless tiling thrown at His feet, as a dernier
resort. Once it was my choice, but the pure, clear-eyed faith
of my childhood shook hands with me when you left me in New
York."

For a short while he struggled with himself, striving to over
come the unconquerable impulse which suddenly prompted him,
and his face grew pallid as hers as he walked hastily across the
smooth grass and came back to her. Her countenance was lifted
toward the neighboring hill, her thoughts evidently far away,
when he paused before her, and said, unsteadily :

" Irene, my beloved ! give yourself to me. Go with me into
God's vineyard ; let us work together, and consecrate our lives
to His service."

The mesmeric eyes gazed into his, full of wonder, and the rich

268 MACAKIA ; OK,

ruby tint fled from her lips as she pondered his words in un
feigned astonishment, and shaking her regal head, answered,
slowly :

" Harvey, I am not worthy. I want your counsel, not your
pity."

" Pity ! you mistake me. If you have been ignorant so long,
know now that I have loved you from the evening you first sat
in my study looking over my foreign sketches. You were then
a child, but I was a man, and I knew all that you had so sud
denly become to me. Because of this great disparity in years,
and because I dared not hope that one so tenderly nurtured
could ever brave the hardships of my projected life. I deter
mined to quit New York earlier than I had anticipated, and to
bury a foolish memory in the trackless forests of the far West.
I ought to have known the fallacy of my expectation ; I have
proved it since. Your face followed me ; your eyes met mine at
every turn ; your glittering hair swept on every breeze that
touched my cheek. I battled with the image, but it would not
avail ; I resolved not to write to you, but found that the dearest
part of my letters from home consisted of the casual allusions which
they contained to you. Then came tidings from Louisa that you
were probably married — had long been engaged to your cousin ;
and, though it wrung my heart to think of you as the wife of
another, I schooled myself to hope that, for your sake, it might
be true. But years passed ; no confirmation reached me ; and
the yearning to look on your dear face once more took possession
of me. My mother wrote, urging me to visit her this summer,
and I came out of my way to hear of and to see you. The world
sneers at the possibility of such a love as mine, and I doubt not
that it is very rare among men ; but, through all the dreary sep
aration, I have thought of you as constantly, and fondly, and
tenderly as when I first met you in my father's house. Irene,
you are young, and singularly beautiful, and I am a gray-haired
man, much, much older than yourself ; but, if you live a thou
sand years, you will never find such affection as I offer you now.
There is nothing on earth which would make me so happy as the
possession of your love. You are the only woman I have ever

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 269

seen whom I even wish to call my wife — the only woman who, I
felt, could lend new charm to life, and make my quiet hearth
happier by her presence. Irene, will you share my future ? Can
you give me what I ask ?"

The temptation was powerful — the future he held out enticing
indeed. The strong, holy, manly love, the noble heart and head
to guide her, the firm, tender hand to support her, the constant,
congenial, and delightful companionship — all this passed swiftly
through her mind ; but, crushing all in its grasp, came the me
mory of one whom she rarely met, but who held undisputed sway
over her proud heart.

Drawing close to the minister, she laid her hands on his
shoulder, and, looking reverently up into his fine face, said, in
her peculiarly sweet, clear voice :

" The knowledge of -your priceless, unmerited love makes me
proud beyond degree ; but I would not mock you by the misera
ble and only return I could make you — the affection of a devo
ted sister. I would gladly, thankfully go with you to your
Western home, and redeem my past by my future — but, as your
wife, I could not ; and, without the protection of your honored
name, it would not be permitted me to accompany you. I look
up to you as to no other human being ; I revere and love you,
Harvey ; and, oh ! I wish that I could pass my life at your
side, cheered by your smile, doing some good in the world. That
I do not love you as you wish, is my great misfortune ; for I ap
preciate most fully the noble privilege you have tendered me. I
do not say what I earnestly wish could happen, that you will find
some one else who can make you happy, because I feel that no
woman whom I have ever met is worthy of being your wife. But
I trust that the pain I may give you now will soon pass away,
and that, in time, you will forget one who is utterly undeserving
of the honor you have conferred on her to-day. Oh, Harvey !
do not, I beg of you, let one thought of me ever disquiet your
noble, generous heart."

A shiver crept over her still face, and she drooped her pale
forehead. She felt two tears fall upon her hair, and in silence

270 MACAKIA ; OK,

lie bent down and kissed her softly, tenderly, as pne kisses a

sleeping babe.

" Oh, Harvey ! do not let it grieve you, dear friend !"

He smiled sadly, as if not daring to trust himself in words ;

then, after a moment, laying his hands upon her head, in the

baptism of a deathless love, he gently and solemnly blessed her.

When his fingers were removed she raised her eyes, but he hud

gone ; she saw only the retreating form through the green arches

of the grand old avenue.

" Unlike are we, unlike, 0 princely heart!
Unlike our uses and our destinies,
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart

Their wings in passing

The chrism is on thine head — on mine the dew,
And death must dig the level where these agree."

CHAPTER XXIII.

SAYS D'Alembert : " The industry of men is now so far ex
hausted in canvassing for places, that none is left for fulfilling
the duties of them ;" and the history of our government furnishes
a melancholy parallel. The regular quadrennial storm had swept
over the nation ; caucuses had been held and platforms fiercely
fought for, to be kicked away, plank by plank, when they no
longer served as scaffolding by which to climb to office. Bu
chanan was elected, but destined to exemplify, during his admin
istration, the truth of Tacitus' words : " He was regarded as
greater than a private man whilst he remained in privacy, and
would have been deemed worthy of governing if he had never
governed." The heat of the canvass cooled, people settled down
once more to a condition of lethargic indifference — bought and
sold, sowed and reaped, as usual — little realizing that the tem
porary lull, the perfect calm, was treacherous as the glassy green
expanse of waters which, it is said, sometimes covers th« location

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 271

of the all-destroying mselstrom of Moskoe. Having taken an
active and prominent part in the presidential campaign, and
made frequent speeches, Russell found himself again opposed by
Mr. Huntingdon, who was equally indefatigable during the ex
citing contest. The old feud received, if possible, additional
acrimony, and there were no bounds to the maledictions heaped
upon the young and imperturbable legislator by his virulent an
tagonist. Many predicted a duel or a street encounter ; but
weeks passed, and though, in casual meetings, Mr. Huntingdon's
glare of hate was always answered by a mocking smile of cold
disdain, the cloud floated off without breaking into bloody
showers,

Mr. Mitchel's health had failed so rapidly, as winter approach
ed, that Dr. Arnold persuaded him to try the efficacy of a sea-
voyage, and he had accordingly sailed from New Orleans in a
vessel bound for Genoa. Irene begged the privilege of accompa
nying him, but her father peremptorily refused ; and she saw
her uncle depart, and superintended the closing of his house, with
silent sorrow, and the feeling of one who knows that the night is
deepening around her. In the course of the political cataclysm
much chaff came to the surface, and whirled along with porten
tous alacrity ; gossip seemed to have received a new impetus,
and among the most important ondits, was that of Irene's
speedy marriage to her cousin. Hundred-tongued rumor was
busy, too, with the mysterious fact that Russell had placed
a handsome iron railing around the humble home of his boy
hood ; had removed the little three-roomed crumbling dwelling,
and planted shade trees. Much curiosity was excited, and the
only plausible solution at which the kindly inquiring public
arrived was, that he intended to marry somebody. But whom ?
He occasionally visited at Judge Harris' and Mr. Henderson's,
and,, as he had been seen last at the house of the former, by a
species of not very abstruse ratiocination it was finally decided,
and promulgated as a social edict, that the talented young
lawyer would soon claim Grace's hand at the altar. In less
than twenty-four hours all of fashionable W had dis
cussed the young lady's brilliant future, and were ready to

272

tender their congratulations to the ambitious man, who was
utterly unconscious of the commotion which his individual plans
and actions had induced. This insatiable mania for obtaining
information about other people's affairs and purposes, this ridicu
lous and contemptible tittle-tattle, this news-mongering, scandal-
pedlaring proclivity, characteristic of cities, towns, villages, and
even country neighborhoods, should certainly have been included
by the Massachusetts seer in his catalogue of " social inflictions
which the magistrate cannot secure or defend you from, and
which must be intrusted to the restraining force of custom, and
proverbs, and familiar rules of behavior impressed on young
people in their school days ;" and I trust I may be allowed the
additional suggestion, " by mothers around the hearthstone."
But, unfortunately, the admirable adage " il faut attendre le
boiteux" finds no acceptation in beau monde.

Late in the afternoon of Christmas day Irene went into the
green-house to gather a bouquet for an invalid friend in town,
and had almost accomplished her errand when the crash and
whir of wheels drew her to the window that looked out on the
lawn. Her father had gone to the plantation early that morn
ing, and she had scarcely time to conjecture whom the visitor
would prove, when Hugh's loud voice rang through the house,
and, soon after, he came clattering in, with the end of his panta
loons tucked into his boots and his whip trailing along in true
boyish fashion. As he threw down his hat, scattering the petals
of a snowy camelia, and drew near his cousin, she saw that his
face was deeply flushed, and his eyes somewhat bloodshot.

" Hugh ! what are you doing here ? Father expected you
to overtake him at Crescent Bend ; you said last night that you
would start by five o'clock."

" Merry Christmas, my beauty ! I have come for my Christ
mas gift. Give it to me, like the queen you are."

He stooped as if to kiss her, but she shrank back instantly,
and said, gravely :

" You ought not to make promises which you have no idea of
keeping ; father will be annoyed, and wonder very much what
has happened. He was anxious that you should go with him."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 273

" Oh ! confound the plantation ! I wish it would sink ! Of
all other days none but Christmas will suit him to tramp down
there through mud and mire. The fact is, I did not go to sleep
till four o'clock, and nobody ought to be unchristian enough to
expect me to wake up in an hour. You may be quiet, though,
for I am on my way now to that paradise of black mud. I only
stopped to get a glimpse of you, my Sappho ! my Corinna 1 so
don't homilize, I pray you."

" Better wait till daylight, Hugh ; you know the state of the
roads and condition of the bridges. It will be safer, and an
economy of time, to defer it till morning, since you have made it
so late."

" No ; I must go to-night, for I have an engagement to ride
with Maria Henderson, and I can't get back in time if I wait till
to-morrow morning. I want to start back day after to-morrow.
As for time, Wildfire will make it the better for the darkness ;
he is as much afraid of night and shadows as if he had a con
science, and had maltreated it, master-like. I shall convince him
that all Tarn O'Shanter's witches are in full pursuit, and his
matchless heels his only salvation."

A shade of apprehension settled on her face, and, placing the
bouquet in a basket, she turned to her cousin, saying :

"Indeed, you can not be insane enough to drive that horse
such a night as this weather threatens. If go you will, in the
face of a coming rain, leave Wildfire here, and drive one of the
carriage-horses instead. I shall be uneasy if you start with that
vicious, unmanageable incarnation of lightning. Let me ring the
bell and direct Andrew to make the change."

She stepped into the parlor adjoining, and laid her fingers
on the bell-cord, but he snatched up the hand and kissed it sev
eral times.

" No ! I'll be hanged if I don't drive my own pearl of Ara
bia ! I can manage him well enough ; and, beside, what do you
care whether he breaks my neck or not ? Without compunc
tion you broke my heart, which is much the greater catastrophe."

" Come into the library ; you don't know what you are say
ing."

12*

274 MACAEIA; OK,

She drew him into the room, where a warm fire burned cheer
fully, and made him sit down.

" Where did you go last night when you left here ? Tell me."

" To Harry Neal's ; a party of us were invited there to drink
egg-nog, and, of course, found something stronger afterward.

Then we had a game or so of poker, and , the grand finale

is, that I have had a deuced headache all day. Ah, my sweet
saint ! how shocked you are, to be sure ! Now, don't lecture,
or I shall be off like a flash."

Without answering, she rang the bell and quietly looped back
the heavy crimson curtains.

" What is that for ? Have you sent for John or old Nellie to
carry me up stairs, like other bad boys sent to bed in disgrace,
without even the cold comfort of supper ?"

" Hush, Hugh ! hush."

Turning to John, who opened the door and looked in, she
said :

" Tell William to make some strong coffee as soon as possible.
Mas' Hugh has a headache, and wants some before he leaves."

" Thank you, my angel ! my unapproachable Peri 1 Ugh I
how cold it is. Pardon me, but I really must warm my feet."

He threw them carelessly on the fender of the grate.'

" Shall I get you a pair of slippers ?"

" Could not afford the luxury ; positively have not the time
to indulge myself."

With a prolonged yawn-he laid his head back and closed his eyes.
An expression of disgust was discernible in his companion's coun
tenance, but it passed like the shadow of a summer cloud, and
she sat down at the opposite side of the fire-place, with her eyes
bent upon the hearth, and the long silky lashes sweeping her
cheeks. A silence of some minutes ensued ; finally Hugh rapped
startlingly on his boot with the ivory handle of his whip, and ex
claimed :

" A Quaker-meeting is no part of my programme ! What the
mischief are you thinking about ? — looking as solemn as an arch
bishop in canonicals I"

" Do you really want to know what I am thinking of?"

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 275

" Of course I do, if it is not something as supernal and far off
as the stars, which you have taken under your special protection
and patronage."

" I was thinking of a passage which I read yesterday, and
wishing that it could be framed and hung up in every dwelling.
Emerson says : ' Goethe said well, " nobody should be rich but
those who understand it." They should own who can adminis
ter, not they who hoard and conceal ; not they who, the greater
proprietors they are, are only the greater beggars ; but they
whose work carves out work for more, opens a path for all. For
he is the rich man in whom the people are rich, and he is the
poor man in whom the people are poor ; and how to give all ac
cess to the master-pieces of art and nature, is the problem of civ
ilization/ Weighed in this balance, how many of our million
aires, think you, would find Belshazzar's warning traced on their
walls r

" All of which, I suppose, I am to interpret into a polite cir
cumlocutory way of telling me that I am a worthless spendthrift,
squandering away a fortune which I don't deserve, and a disgrace
to my fair cousinly Lady Bountiful ? When do you contemplate
mounting a pedestal, marble image that you are, folding those
incomparable hands of yours, and encouraging idolatry ? I pro
mise you I shall fall down and worship most irreproachably.
But seriously, Irene, if you do not admire my style of living, why
don't you take me in hand, as is your privilege, and make me a
model of strait-laced propriety ?"

" You might, with very great advantage to yourself, take a
little common-sense in hand. Of course, Hugh, you are your
own master, but it frequently pains me to see you throwing away
your life and privileges so recklessly. You might do a vast
amount of good with your money, if you felt disposed to employ
it benevolently and judiciously."

" Well, whose fault is it ? I offered to make you my banker,
and let you dispense charities for both of us, and you snatched
back your dainty fingers in haughty refusal. If I play Prodigal
to the end of the chapter, you are responsible for it."

" Begging your pardon, sir, I am no scape-goat for any of

276 MACAKIA; OR,

your short-comings. Shoulder your own peccadilloes, if you
please. But here comes your coffee. Put the waiter on the
table, John, and tell Andrew to take Mas' Hugh's buggy."

" Do nothing of the kind ! but send somebody to open that
everlasting gate, which would not have disgraced ancient Thebes.
Are you classical, John ? Be off, and see about it ; I must
start in five minutes."

" Hugh, be reasonable for once in your life ; you are not in a
proper condition to drive that horse. For my sake, at least, be
persuaded to wait till morning. Will you not remain, to oblige
me ?"

" Oh, hang my condition ! I tell you I must and I will go,'
if all the stars fall and judgment day overtakes me on the road.
What splendid coffee you always have ! The most fastidious of
bashaws could not find it in his Moorish heart to complain."

He put on his hat, buttoned his costly fur coat, and, flourish
ing his whip, came close to his cousin.

" Good-by, beauty. I hate to leave you ; upon my word I
do ; but duty before pleasure, my heavenly-eyed monitress. I
have not had my Christmas present yet, and have it I will."

" On one condition, Hugh ; that you drive cautiously and mod
erately, instead of thundering down hills and over bridges like
some express train behind time. Will you promise ?"

" To be sure I will ! everything in the world ; and am ready
to swear it, if you are sceptical."

" Well then, good-by, Hugh, and take care of yourself."

She allowed him to press his hot lips to hers, and, accompany
ing him to the door, saw him jump into the frail open-topped
buggy. Wildfire plunged and sprang off in his usual style, and,
with a crack of the whip and wave of his hat, Hugh was fairly
started.

Seven hours later Irene sat alone at the library table, absorb
ed in writing an article on Laplace's Nebular Theory for the sci
entific journal to which she occasionally contributed over the sig
nature of " Sabaean." Several books, with close " marginalias,"
were scattered around, and the " Mecanique Celeste " and a vol
ume of " Cosmos" lay open before her. The servants had gone

AI/TAR8 OF SACRIFICE. 277

to rest ; the house was very still, the silence unbroken save by
the moan of the wind and the melancholy tapping of the poplar
branches against the outside. The sky was black, gloomy as
Malbolge ; and, instead of a hard, pattering rain, a fine, cold
mist drizzled noiselessly down the panes. Wrapped in her work,
Irene wrote on rapidly till the clock struck twelve. She count
ed the strokes, saw that there remained but one page uncopicd,
and concluded to finish the MS. At last she affixed her nom
de plume, numbered the pages, and folded the whole for trans
mission. The fire was still bright ; and, with no inclination to
go to sleep, she replaced the books on their respective shelves,
turned up the wick of the lamp, and sat down close to the grate
to warm her stiffened fingers. Gradually her thoughts wander
ed from the completed task to other themes of scarcely less in
terest. The week previous she had accompanied Hugh to an
operatic concert given by the Parodi troupe, and had been as
tonished to find Russell seated on the bench in front of her. He
so rarely showed himself on such occasions, that his appearance
elicited some comment. They had met frequently since the eve
ning at Mr. Mitchell's, but he pertinaciously avoided recognizing
her ; and, on this particular night, though he came during an in
terlude to speak to Grace Harris, who sat on the same row of
seats with Irene, he never once directed his eyes toward the lat
ter. This studied neglect, she felt assured, was not the result
of the bitter animosity existing between her father and himself ;
and though it puzzled her for a while, she began finally to sus
pect the true nature of his feelings, and, with woman's rarely
erring instincts, laid her finger on the real motive which prompt
ed him. The report of his engagement to Grace had reached
her some days before, and now it recurred to her mind like a
haunting spectre. She did not believe for an instant that he was
attached to the pretty, joyous girl whom rumor gave him ; but
she was well aware that he was ambitious of high social position,
and feared that he might possibly, from selfish, ignoble reasons,
seek an alliance with Judge Harris' only daughter, knowing that
the family was one of the wealthiest and most aristocratic in the
state. She recollected, with unutterable scorn, the frequent

278 MACARIA ; OK,

sneers at his blind mother, in which Grace, Charlie, and even
Mrs. Harris had indulged in the season of trial and adversity ;
and, pondering all that she had silently endured because of her
sympathy with him and his mother, a feeling of bitterness, here
tofore unknown, rose in her heart. True, impassable barriers
divided them : but she could not endure the thought of his wed
ding another — it tortured her beyond all expression. With a
suffocating sensation she unfastened the cameo pin that held her
robe de chambre at the throat, and threw back the collar.
Taking out her comb, she shook down her hair, gathered it up
in her hands, and tossed it over the back of her chair, whence it
fell to the floor, coiling there in glittering rings. Life had seem
ed dreary enough before ; but, with this apprehension added, it
appeared insupportable, and she was conscious of a degree of
wretchedness never dreamed of or realized heretofore. Not even
a sigh escaped her ; she was one of a few women who permit no
external evidences of suffering, but lock it securely in their own
proud hearts, and in silence and loneliness go down into the
" ghoul-haunted," darkened chambers to brood over it, as did the
Portuguese monarch the mouldering remains of his murdered
wife. The painful reverie might, perhaps, have lasted till the
pallid dawn looked in with tearful eyes at the window, but Par
agon, who was sleeping on the rug at her feet, started up and
growled. She raised her head and listened, but only the ticking
of the clock was audible, and the wailing of the wind through
the leafless poplars.

"Down, Paragon I hush, sir \"

She patted his head soothingly, and he sank back a few seconds
in quiet, then sprang up with a loud bark. This time she heard
an indistinct sound of steps in the hall, and thought : " Nellie
sees my light through the window, and is coming to coax me up
stairs." Something stumbled near the threshold, a hand struck
the knob as if in hunting for it, the door opened softly, and, muf
fled in his heavy cloak, holding his hat in one hand, Russell Au
brey stood in the room. Neither spoke, but he looked at her
with such mournful earnestness, such eagar yet grieved compassion,
that she read some terrible disaster in his eyes. The years of

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 279

estrangement, all that had passed since their childhood, was for
gotten : studied conventionalities fell away at the sight of him
standing there, for the first time, in her home. She crossed the
room with a quick, uncertain step, and put out her hatds toward
him— vugue, horrible apprehension blanching the beautiful lips,
which asked shiveringly :

" What is it, Russell ? what is it ?"

He took the cold little hands tremblingly in his, and endeavored
to draw her back to the hearth, but she repeated }

" What has happened ? Is it father, or Hugh ?"

" Your father is well, I believe ; I passed him on the road
yesterday. Sit down, Miss Huntingdon ; you look pale and
faint."

Her fingers closed tightly over his ; he saw an ashen hue set
tle on her face, and in an unnaturally calm low tone, she asked :

" Is Hugh dead ? Oh, my God ! why don't you speak, Rus
sell ?»

" He did not suffer much ; his death was too sudden."

Her face had such a stony look that he would have passed his
arm around her, but could not disengage his hand ; she seemed
to cling to it as if for strength.

" Won't you let me carry you to your room, or call a servant ?
You are not able to stand."

She neither heeded nor heard him.

" Wasf it that horse ; or how was it ?"

" One of the bridges had been swept away by the freshet, and,
in trying to cross, he missed the ford. The horse must have been
frightened and unmanageable, the buggy was overturned in the
creek, and your cousin, stunned by the fall, drowned instantly ;
life was just extinct when I reached him."

Something like a moan escaped her, as she listened.

" Was anything done ?"

" We tried every means of resuscitation, but they were entirely
ineffectual."

She relaxed her clasp of his fingers, and moved toward the
door.

280 MACAKIA ; OK,

" Where are you going, Miss Huntingdon ? liided you must
sit down."

" Russell, you have brought him home ; where is he ?"

"Without waiting for an answer, she walked down the hall, and
paused suddenly at the sight of the still form resting on a grey
traveling-blanket, with a lantern at its head, and an elderly man,
a stranger, sitting near, keeping watch. Russell came to her
side, and, drawing his arm around her, made her lean upon him.
He felt the long, long lingering shudder which shook the elegant,
queenly figure ; then she slipped down beside the rigid sleeper, and
smoothed back from the fair brow the dripping, curling, auburn hair.

" Hugh, my cousin ! my playmate ! Snatched away in an hour
from the life you loved so well. Ah ! the curse of our house has
fallen upon you. It is but the beginning of the end. Only two
of us are left, and we, too, shall soon be caught up to join you."

She kissed the icy lips which a few hours ago had pressed hers
so warmly, and, rising, walked up and down the long hall. Rus
sell leaned against the wall, with his arms crossed over his chest
and his head bent low, waiting for her to speak again. But, calm
and tearless, she walked on and on, in profound silence, till he
grew restless at the strange sound of her hair trailing along the
oil-cloth, and once more approached her.

"Are you entirely alone 1n

" Yes, except the servants. Oh, Russell 1 how am I to break
this to my father ? He loves that boy better than everything
else ; infinitely better than he ever loved me. How shall I tell
him that Hugh is dead — dead ?"

" A messenger has already gone to inform him of what has
happened, and this distressing task will not be yours. Herbert

Blackwell and I were riding together, on our return from T -,

when we reached the ford where the disaster occurred. Finding
that all our efforts to resuscitate were useless, he turned back, and
went to your father's plantation to break the sad intelligence to
him."

His soothing, tender tone touched some chord deep in her
strange nature, and unshed tears gathered for the first time in
her eyes.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE.

" As yon have no friend near enough to call upon at present,
I will, if you desire it, wake the servants, remain, and do all that
is necessary until morning."

" If you please, Russell ; I shall thank you very much."
As her glance fell upon her cousin's gleaming face, her lip
fluttered, and she turned away and sat down on one of the sofas
in the parlor, dropping her face in her hands. A little while
after, the light of a candle streamed in, and Russell came with a
cushion from the library lounge, and his warm cloak. He wrapped
the latter carefully about the drooping form, and would have placed
her head on the silken pillow, but she silently resisted without
looking up, and he left her. It was a vigil which she never forgot ;
the slow hours crushed her as they rolled, the very atmosphere
seemed filled with the curse which brooded inexorably over the
ancient house, and when, at last, the eastern sky blanched, and
the wan forehead of the day lifted itself sadly up, it seemed, indeed,
as if —

" The dim red morn had died, her journey done,
And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain,
Half-fallen across the threshold of the sun,
Never to rise again."

Shaking off her covering, Irene passed into the green-house, and
broke clusters of jasmine and spicy geranium leaves, and, thus en
gaged, her glance fell upon the dashed camella petals which Hugh
had ruined so recklessly the previous evening, They seemed fit
ting symbols, as they lay in withering heaps, of the exuberant life
so suddenly cut short — the gay, throbbing heart so unexpectedly
stilled.

" * * * Life struck sharp on death

Makes awful lightning."

And she felt a keen pang at sight of his cambric handkerchief,
which had been dropped unconsciously between two branching
fuchsias. As she stooped and picked it up, his name stared at her,
and the soft folds gave out the powerful breath of bergamot, of
which he was particularly fond. She turned away from the wealth
of beauty that mocked her sorrow, and walked on to the
library.

282 MACAKIA ; OR,

The fire had died out entirely, the curtains were drawn back
to let in the day, on the library table the startling glare of white
linen showed the outlines of the cold young sleeper, and Russell
slowly paced the floor, his arms crossed, as was their habit, and
his powerful form unweariedly erect. She stood by the table,
half-irresolute, then folded down the sheet, and exposed the hand
some, untroubled face. She studied it long and quietly, and with
no burst of emotion laid her flowers against his cheek and mouth,
and scattered the geraniums over his pulseless heart.

" I begged him not to start yesterday, and he answered that
he would go, if the stars fell and judgment day overtook him.
Sometimes we are prophets unawares. His star has set — his day
has risen ! Have mercy on his soul ! oh, my God 1"

The voice was low and even, but wonderfully sweet, and in the
solemn morning light her face showed itself gray and bloodless ;
no stain of color on the still lips, only the blue cord standing out
between the brows, sure signet of a deep distress which found no
vent. Russell felt a crushing weight lifted from his heart ; he
saw that she had " loved her cousin, cousinly — no more ;" and
his face flushed when she looked across the table at him, with
grateful but indescribably melancholy eyes, which had never been
closed during that night of horror.

" I have come to relieve you, Russell, from your friendly watch
Few would have acted as you have done, and for all your generous,
kindness to poor Hugh I thank you most earnestly, as well for
my father as myself. The day may come, perhaps, when I shall
be able to prove my gratitude, and the sincerity of my friendship,
which has never wavered since we were children together. Until
that day, farewell, Russell ; Jbut believe that I rejoice to hear of
your successes."

She held out her hand, and, as he took it in his, which trem
bled violently, he felt, even then, that there was no quiver in the
icy white fingers, and that his name rippled over her lips as calmly
as that of the dead had done just before. She endured his long,
searching gaze, like any other Niobe, and he dropped the little
pearly hand and quitted the room. She heard his quick step
ring changes down the long hall and stony steps, and, when

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 283

all was still again, she knelt beside the table, and, crossing her
arras over it, bowed her face upon them. Now and then the ser
vants looked in, but crept away awed, closing the door stealthily ;
and as the day advanced, and the news of what had happened flew
through the town, friends came to offer assistance and condolence.
But none dare disturb or address the kneeling figure, veiled by
waving hair, and giving no more sign of life than the form before
her. At ten o'clock Mr. Huntingdon returned, and, with his hat
drawn over his eyes, went straight to the library. He kissed the
face of the dead passionately, and his sob and violent burst of
soi;row told his child of his arrival. She lifted her rigid face, and
extended her arms, pleadingly.

" Father 1 father 1 here, at least, you will forgive me !"

He turned from her sternly, and answered, with bitter em
phasis :

" I will not ! But for you, he would have been different, and
this would never have happened."

" Father, I have asked for love and pardon for the last time.
Perhaps, when you stand over my dead body, you may remem
ber that you had a child who had a right to your affection.
God knows, if it were possible, I would gladly lay my weary head
down to rest, here on Hugh's bier, and give him back to your
arms. Life is not so sweet to me that I would not yield it up to
day without a murmur."

She bent down and kissed her cousin, and, with a hard, bitter
expression in her countenance, went up to her own room, locking
out Paragon and old Nellie, who followed cautiously at her
heels.

" For the drift of the Maker is dark, an Isis hid by the veil.
Who knows the ways of the world, how God will bring them about?*'

284: MAC ARIA J OK,

CHAPTER XXIV.

" WHERE are you going, Irene ?"

" Only to the Factory-row."

" For what, I should like to know ?"

" To see Bessie Davis, who has been very ill."

" Fiddle-stick ! I want the carriage myself. I promised to
send down to the hotel for Judge Peterson, who is coming to
spend the night here."

"Of course, father, if you want Andrew, I do not wish to
interfere with your arrangements. I did not know that you in
tended to use the carriage. John, tell Andrew to drive the
horses back to the stable-yard until called for, and have Erebus
saddled at once. Unpack that flat basket I left on the pantry-
shelf, and put the things into one with a handle, that I can
carry in my hand. The egg-basket will do very well j it has a
cover."

She went to her room, changed her dress for her riding-
habit, and came down to the front door, where her father sat
smoking.

" What are you going to do with that basket ? Erebus won't
suffer you to carry it."

" Yes, sir ; he will suffer just what I please to take. I have
a bottle of wine, some jelly, and some light bread, for poor Mrs.
Davis."

11 What sort of wine ?"

" Not your high-priced sherry or port, but a pint bottle of
Madeira. Tighten that girth for me, Andrew, if you please ; the
saddle turned the last time I rode."

" I'll bet that you will let that basket fall before you get to
the gate, and lose every drop in it. It is all nonsense 1 sheer
nonsense 1"

She made no reply, but mounted the beautiful, spirited animal,
who arched his neck and curveted at sight of the basket. Pat-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 285

ting his mane soothingly, she hung the basket securely on the
pommel of the saddle, and rode off.

"He is wilder to-day than he was when I first bought him ;
he will break her neck yet, I have n't a doubt," muttered Mr.
Huntingdon, looking after her.

" No he won't, master ; she can tame him down any minuto.
Last week she wanted to ride, but he had got out into the creek
pasture, and I could n't catch him. I raced him for a half-hour
up and down, and could n't come near him ; I tried him with
corn and fodder, but he ran like a deer. I give it up, sir, and
told Miss Irene he was in one of his tantrums, and I could do
nothing with him. She just put on her hat and walked over to
the pasture, and the minute he saw her coming he neighed two
or three times, and, before I could get to her, she had her hand
on his mane, patting him, and he was rubbing his head against
her. Miss Irene can tame anything in this world, she has such
a steady, conquering look in her eyes."

Such were Andrew's reassuring words, as, with his hat on the
back of his head, and both hands thrust into his deep pockets,
he stood watching his young mistress, until a turn in the road
obscured both horse and rider, then walked back to the stable.

It was a cold afternoon in November —

" And Autumn, laying here and there
A fiery finger on the leaves,"

had kindled her forest conflagration. Golden maples and amber-
hued cherries, crimson dog-woods .and scarlet oaks shook out
their flame-foliage and waved their glowing boughs, all dashed
and speckled, flecked and rimmed with orange and blood, ghastly
green, and tawny brown. The hectic spot burned everywhere,
save on the solemn, sombre pines that lifted themselves defiantly
far above the fevered region of decay. Royal clusters of goldea-
rod were blackened and seared by the lips of an early frost, and
pallid, starry asters shivered and dropped their faded petals as
the wind bowed their fragile heads. The smoky atmosphere^
which had hung all day in purple folds around the distant hills,
took a golden haze as the sun sank rapidly ; and to Irene's gaze

286 MACAEIA J OK,

river and wood-land, hill-side and valley, were brimmed with that
weird " light which never was on sea or land." Her almost
" Brahminical" love of nature had grown with her years, but a
holier element mingled with her adoration now ; she looked
beyond the material veil of beauty, and bowed reverently before
the indwelling Spiritual Presence. Only during these silent hours
of communion afforded by her solitary rides was the shadow lifted
from her heart, and at such times immemorial Cybele's fingers,
soft and warm, touched the still face, and the icy lines melted.
Since Hugh's death, nearly a year before, she had become a re
cluse, availing herself of her mourning dress to decline all social
engagements, and during these months a narrow path opened
before her feet, she became a member of the church which she
had attended from infancy, and her hands closed firmly over her
life work. The baffling Sphinx, that had so long vexed her, sat
no more at the cross-roads of her existence ; she found an (Edi-
pus in the far more than cabalistic words :

" Thy path is plain and straight, that light is given,
Onward in faith ! and leave the rest to heaven."

Sorrow and want hung out their signs among the poor of

W , and here, silently, but methodically, she had become,

not a ministering angel certainly, but a generous benefactress, a
noble, sympathetic friend — a counsellor whose strong good sense
rendered her advice and guidance valuable indeed. By a system
of rigid economy she was enabled to set apart a small portion of
money which she gave judiciously, superintending its investment ;
kind, hopeful words she scattered like sunshine over every threshold ;
and here and there, where she detected smouldering aspiration,
or incipient appreciation of learning, she fanned the spark with
some suitable volume from her own library, which, in more than
one instance, became the germ, the spring of " a joy for ever."
Frequently her father threw obstacles in her way, sneering all
the while at her " sanctimonious freaks." Sometimes she affect
ed not to notice the impediments, sometimes frankly acknowl
edged their magnitude and climbed right over them, on to her
work. Among the factory operatives she found the greatest

ALTAES OF SACEIFICE. 287

need of ameliorating touches of every kind. Improvident,
illiterate, in some cases, almost brutalized, she occasionally found
herself puzzled as to the proper plan to pursue ; but her
womanly heart, like the hidden jewelled levers of a watch, guided
the womanly hands unerringly.

This evening, as she approached the row of low white-washed
houses, a crowd of children swarmed out, as usual, to stare at
her. She rode up to a door-step where a boy of some fourteen
years sat sunning himself, with an open book on his knee and a
pair of crutches beside him. At sight of her a bright smile broke
over his sickly%face and he tried to rise.

" Good-evening, Philip ; don't get up. How are you, to-day ?"

" Better, I thank you, ma'm ; but very stiff yet."

" The stiffness will pass off gradually, I hope. I see you have
not finished your book yet ; how do you like it ?"

" Oh I I could bear to be a cripple always, if I had plenty like
it to read."

" You need not be a cripple ; but there are plenty more, just
as good and better, which you shall have in time. Do you think
you could hold my horse for me a little while ? I can't find a
suitable place to tie him. He is gentle enough if you will only
hold the reins."

" Certainly, ma'm ; I shall be glad to hold him as long as you
like."

She dismounted, and, taking her basket, placed the bridle in
the boy's hand, saying encouragingly, as Erebus put up his ears
and looked vicious :

" Don't be afraid of him. Speak to him quietly if he gets
restless, and if you can't keep him in order, call me ; I am going
in next door."

He smiled assent, and wrapped the bridle round his wrist, and
returned eagerly to his treasure, Simms' " Life of Nathaniel
Green," while Irene passed into the adjoining house. Some
sick rooms are inviting from the costly display of marble, rose
wood, velvet and silver, from the tasteful arrangement of books
and flowers, from the air of delicacy and affectionate considera
tion which pervades them. But those where poverty stands grim

288 MACAEIA ; OR,

and gaunt on the hearth are rarely enticing, and to this dreary
class belonged the room where Bessie Davis had suffered for
months, watching the sands of life run low, and the shadow of
death growing longer across the threshold day by day. The
dust and lint of the cotton-room had choked the springs of life,
and on her hollow cheeks glowed the autograph of consumption.
She stretched out her wasted hand, and said :

" Ah, Miss Irene ! I heard your voice outside, and it was
pleasant to my ears as the sound of the bell when work-hours
are over. I am always glad to see your face, but this evening I
was longing for you, hoping and praying that you would come.
I am in trouble."

" About what, Mrs. Davis ? Nothing serious, I hope ; tell
me."

" I don't know how serious it is going to be. Johnnie is sick
in the next room, taken yesterday ; and, about noon to-day
Susan had to knock off work and come home. Hester is the
only one left, and you know she is but a baby to work. I don't
like to complain of my lot, God knows, but it seems hard if we
are all to be taken down."

" I hope they will not be sick long. What is the matter with
Johnnie ?"

" Dear knows I I am sure I don't ; he complains of the head
ache and has fever, and Susan here seems ailing the same way.
She is as stupid as can be — sleeps all the tune. My children
have had measles, and whooping-cough, and chicken-pox, and
scarlet fever, and I can't imagine what they are trying to catch
now. I hear that there is a deal of sickness showing itself in
the row."

" Have you sent for the doctor ?" asked Irene, walking around
to the other side of the bed, and examining Susan's pulse.

" Yes, I sent Hester ; but she said he told her he was too
busy to come."

" Why did you not apply so some other physician ?"

" Because Dr. Brandon has always attended me, and, as I sent
for him first, I didn't know whether any other doctor would like

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 289

to coine. You know some of them have very curious notions
about their dignity."

" And sometimes, while they pause to discuss etiquette, hu
manity suffers. Susan, let me see your tongue. Who else is
sick in the row, Mrs. Davis ?"

" Three of Tom Brown's children, two of Dick Spencer's, and
Lucy Hall, and Mary Moorhead. Miss Irene, will you be good
enough to give me a drink of water ? Hester has gone to try to
find some wood, and I can't reach the pitcher."

" I brought you some jelly ; would you like a little now, or
shall I put it away in the closet ?"

" Thank you ; I will save it for my Johnnie, he is so fond of
sweet things ; and, poor child ! he sees 'em so seldom now-a-day."

" There is enough for you and Johnnie too. Eat this, while I
look after him, and see whether he ought to have any this even
ing."

She placed a saucer filled with the tempting amber-hued deli
cacy on the little pine table beside the bed, and went into the
next room. The boy, who looked about seven or eight years
old, lay on a pallet in one corner, restless and fretful, his cheeks
burning, and his large brown eyes sparkling with fever.

" Johnnie, boy ! what is the matter ? Tell me what hurts
you ?"

"My head aches so badly," and tears came to the beautiful
childish eyes.

"It feels hot. Would you like to have it bathed in cold
water ?"

" If you please, ma'am. I have been calling Hettie, and she
won't hear."

" Because she has gone out. Let me see if I can't do it just
as well as Hettie."

She hunted about the room for a cloth, but, finding nothing
suitable, took her cambric handkerchief, and, after laving his
forehead gently for ten or fifteen minutes, laid the wet folds upon
it, and asked, smilingly :

" Doesn't that feel pleasant ?"

" Ever so nice, ina'm — if I had some to drink."

13

290 MACARIA; OB,

She put the dripping gourd to his parched lips, and, after
shaking up his pillow and straightening the covering of his pallet,
she promised to see him again soon, and returned to his mother.

" How does he appear to be, Miss Irene ? I had him moved
out of this room because he said my coughing hurt his head, and
his continual fretting worried me. I am so weak now, God
help me !" and she covered her eyes with one hand.

"He has some fever, Mrs. Davis, but not more than Susan. I
will ask Dr. Arnold to come and see them this evening. This
change in the weather is very well calculated to make sickness.
Are you entirely out of wood ?"

" Very nearly, ma'm ; a few sticks left."

" When Hester comes, keep her at home. I will send you
some wood. And now, how are you ?"

" My cough is not quite so bad ; the pectoral holds it a little
in check ; but I had another hemorrhage last night, and I am
growing weaker every clay. Oh, Miss Irene ! what will become
of my poor little children when I am gone ? That is such an
agonizing thought." She sobbed as she spoke.

" Do not let that grieve you now. I promise you that your
children shall be taken care of. I will send a servant down
to stay here to-night, and perhaps some of the women in the row
will be willing to come in occasionally and help Hester till Susan
gets able to cook. I left two loaves of bread in the closet, and
will send more in the morning, which Hester can toast. I shall
go by town, and send Dr. Arnold out."

" I would rather have Dr. Brandon, if you please."

" Why ?"

" I have always heard that Dr. Arnold was so gruff and un
feeling, that I am afraid of him. I hate to be snapped up when
I ask a question."

" That is a great mistake, Mrs. Davis. People do him injus
tice. He has one of the kindest, warmest hearts I ever knew,
though sometimes he is rather abrupt in his manner. If you
prefer it, however, I will see your doctor. Good-by ; I will
come again to-morrow."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 291

As she took her bridle from Philip's hand, the boy looked up
at her with an expression bordering on adoration.

" Thank you, Philip ; how did he behave ?"

" Not very well ; but he is beautiful enough to make up for
his wildness."

" That is bad doctrine ; beauty never should excuse bad be
havior. Is your mother at home ?"

" No, ma'm."

" When she comes, ask her I say please to step in now and
then, and overlook things for Mrs. Davis ; Susan is sick. Philip,
if it is not asking too much of you, Johnnie would like to have
you sit by him till his little sister comes home, and wet that cloth
which I left on his head. Will you ?"

" Indeed I will ; I am very glad you told me. Certainly I
will."

" I thought so. Don't talk to him ; let him sleep if he will.
Good-by."

She went first to a wood-yard on the river, and left an order
for a cord of wood to be sent immediately to No. 13, Factory-
row ; then took the street leading to Dr. Brandon's office. A
servant sat on the step whistling merrily ; and, in answer to her
question, he informed her that his master had just left town, to
be absent two days. She rode on for a few squares, doubling
her veil in the hope of shrouding her features, and stopped once
more in front of the door where stood Dr. Arnold's buggy.

" Cyrus, is the doctor in his office ?"

"Yes, Miss Irene."

" Hold my horse for me."

She gathered the folds of her riding-habit over her arm, and
went up stairs. Leaning far back in his chair, with his feet on
the fender of the grate, sat Dr. Arnold, watching the blue smoke
of his meerschaum curl lazily in faint wreaths over his head ; and
as she entered, a look of pleasant surprise came instantly into
his cold, clear eyes.

" Bless me 1 Irene, I am glad to see you. It is many a day
since you have shown your face here ; sit down. Now, then,
what is to pay ? You are in trouble of course ; you never think

292 MACAKIA ; OE,

of me except when you arc. Has old Nellie treated herself to
another spell of rheumatism, or Paragon broke his leg, or small
pox broke out anywhere ; or, worse than all, have the hawks
taken to catching your pigeons ?"

" None of these catastrophes has overtaken me ; but I come,
as usual, to ask a favor. If you please, I want you to go up to
the Factory-row this evening. Mrs. Davis, No. 13, has two
children very sick, I am afraid. I don't like the appearance of
their tongues."

" Humph ! what do you know about tongues, I should like to
be informed ?"

" How to use my own, sir, at least, when there is a necessity
for it. They are what you medical savans call typhoid tongues ;
and from what I heard to-day, I am afraid there will be a dis
tressing amount of sickness among the operatives. Of course
you will go, sir ?"

" How do you know that so well ? Perhaps I will, and per
haps I won't. Nobody ever looks after me, or cares about the
condition of my health ; I don't see why I must adopt the whole
human race. See here, my child ! do not let me hear of you at
the Row again soon, it is no place for you, my lily. Ten to one
it is some low, miserable typhus fever showing itself, and I will
take care of your precious pets only on condition that you keep
away, so that I shall not be haunted with the dread of having
you, also, on my hands. If I lay eyes on you at the row, I
swear I will write to Leonard to chain you up at home. Do
you hear ?"

" I shall come every day, I promise you that."

" Oh ! you are ambitious of martyrdom ? But typhus fever
is not the style, Queen. There is neither eclat nor glory in such
a death."

A sad smile curved her mouth, as she answered, slowly :

" Indeed you wrong me, Doctor. I am not ready to die ; I
am not fit for eternity ; my work has but begun."

" Why do you think so, my dear child ? What sin have you
ever committed ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 293

" Sins of omission, sir, foot up as heavily as those of com
mission."

" Don't tread upon my Antinomianistic toes, if you please !
they are tender. Wherein have you failed to do your duty ?"

" God, and my own soul, only sit in assize upon my dere
lictions."

" Irene, I have watched you for years with hungry, eager
eyes ; and of late I have followed you in your rounds among
the poor. You are inaugurating a new system ; the fashion is,
to organize societies, flame in print, as officer, president, trea
surer, as the case may be, and placard the members and pur
poses of the organization. Left hand industriously puffs what
right hand docth. Is it not so ? One of your own sex, the
greatest, strongest, noblest of your learned women singers, pithily
tells you :

" ' There 's too much abstract willing purposing,
In this poor world. We talk by aggregates,

And think by systems If we pray at all,

We pray no longer for our daily bread,

But next centenary's harvests. If we give,

Our cup of water is not tendered till

We lay down pipes and found a company

With branches. A woman can not do the thing she ought,

Which means whatever perfect thing she can,

In life, in art, in science, but she fears

To let the perfect action take her part

And rest there ; she must prove what she can do

Before she does it — prate of woman's rights,

Of woman's mission, woman's function, till

The men (who are prating too, on their side) cry—

A woman's function plainly is — to talk.

Poor souls, they are very reasonably vexed !

They can not hear each other speak.'

"I tell you, Queen, I have watched these associations all my
life ; I am getting old now, and I am as completely nauseated
with their cant and phariseeism as Macauley was with that of
the seventeenth century Puritans. Self-glorification has a deal
of influence over our modern Dorcases."

"I think, sir/ that you are unjust in some instances; your
cynical lenses distort the facts. Judiciously-conducted charita-

294 MACARIA; OK,

ble societies greatly facilitate matters, by systematizing the
work and inducing punctuality. I grant that the evils you speak
of are much to be deprecated ; and, to complete your own
lengthy quotation :

" ' I 'd whisper— Soft, my sister ! not a word !
By speaking, we prove only we can speak :
Which he, the man here, never doubted. "What
He donbts is, whether he can do the thing
With decent grace, we v'e not done at all ;
Now do it!'

" Doctor, I wish you were more of an optimist."

He took one of her hands, spread out the ivory fingers on his
broad palm, and said, in a lower tone :

" My Chaldean priestess, who says that I am not as orthodox
on optimism as Leibnitz himself ? Don't you know that I am a
sort of latter-day troglodyte, very rarely airing my pet creeds for
the benefit of the public ? That was a wise law of Solon's
which declared ' every man infamous who, in seditious or civil
dissensions of the state, remained neuter, and refused to side
with either party ;' but I do not regard it as expedient, or in
cumbent upon me, to advertise my individual status on all ethi
cal schisms. What is it to the public whether I endorse ' Can-
dide' or Leibnitz's ' Theodicea ?' "

" One thing I certainly do know, with great regret, that your
seeming austerity, your roughness of manner, renders you very
unpopular ; whereas, you should be universally beloved."

" Really ! have I become a bugbear in my old age ?"

11 Not that exactly, sir ; but I wish, if it were possible, that
you would not mask your really kind, generous, sympathizing
heart by such repellent, abrupt conduct in sick-rooms, where peo
ple expect gentleness and consideration on the part of a physician.
I know you are often annoyed by senseless and ridiculous ques
tions ; but I wish, for your own sake, that you could be a little
more patient with poor, weak human nature."

" Child, I am not gregarious ; never was. I touch my hat
to the world, and it is welcome to think just what it chooses
of me."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 295

" No, sir ; far from touching your hat, you stand aloof, scowl
ing at your race, smiling grimly at the struggling, drowning men
and women around you, as if we were not all one great
family, designed by God to assist and cheer each other. Every
man — "

" Pardon me, Queen ; but I am not one of those deluded, self-
complacent human beings who actually lay the ' flattering unc
tion' to their souls that they were sent into this world for some
particular purpose — some special mission. I want you to dis
tinctly understand, child, that I don't consider myself appoint
ed to any work but that of attending to my own affairs and tak
ing care of myself."

" Then you admit yourself a marred, imperfect block, rejected
by the Divine Architect as unworthy of a place in the grand
social temple. God clothed you with human affections and sym
pathies that, in accordance with the fundamental law of social
existence, you might extend a helping hand to your fellow-
creatures."

He moved restlessly, and his gray, shaggy brows met in a
heavy frown.

" I believe, Irene, I am entirely innocent of any agrarian or
socialistic tendency."

" And so, I trust, am I. But, sir, because I abhor Brook-
Farm, I will not take refuge in the cave of Trophonius."

He looked up at her with one of his steely, probing glances,
then the brows unbent, and he drew her hand caressingly across
his cheek.

" Well, child, we won't quarrel over my bearish ness. If you
will keep that hard, frozen look away from your lips, and smile
now and then as you used to do in your childhood when I held
you on my knee, I will promise to try and unearth myself, to seal
up my gnome habitation, and buy me a tub which I can drag
after me into the sunlight. Is it a bargain ?"

" That is problematical, Doctor. But it is getting late,
and I wish, if you please, you would go at once to the Row."

" Stop ! if any good is accomplished among those semi-savages
up yonder, who is to have the credit ? Tell me that."

296

" God shall have the thanks ; you all the credit as the worthy
instrument, and I as much of the gratification as I can steal
from you. Are you satisfied with your wages, my honored Shy-
lock ? Good-night."

" Humph ! it is strange what a hold that queer, motherless
child took upon my heart in her babyhood, and tightens as
elie grows older.

' That souls are dangerous things to carry straight
Through all the spilt saltpetre of the world,'

who will question ? Not I, surely ; and yet I know that girl
will take hers safely to the terminus of time, pure, with no smut
or smell of gunpowder. A pearl before swine ! But I swear,
untrampled to the end."

He shook the ashes from his pipe, put it away behind the
clock, and went down to his buggy. Before breakfast the fol
lowing morning, while Irene was in the poultry-yard feeding her
chickens and pigeons, pheasants and peafowls, she received a note
from Dr. Arnold containing these few scrawling words :

" If you do not feel quite ready for the day of judgment, avoid
the Row as you would the plagues of Egypt. I found no less
than six developed cases of rank typhus.

" Yours,

" HIRAM ARNOLD."

She put the note in her pocket, and, while the pigeons flut~
tered and perched on her shoulders and arms, cooing and pecking
at her fingers, she stood musing — calculating the chances of con
tagion and death if she persisted. Raising her eyes to the calm
blue sky, the perplexed look passed from her countenance, and,
fully decided regarding her course, she went in to breakfast.
Mr. Huntingdon was going to a neighboring county with Judge
Peterson, to transact some business connected with Hugh's
estate, and, as the buggy came to the door, he asked, care
lessly —

" What did Cyrus want ?"

" He came to bring me a note from the doctor, concerning
some sick people whom I asked him to see."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 297

" Oh — ! John, put my over-coat in tl^ buggy. Come, Judge,
I am ready."

As he made no inquiry about the sick, she volunteered no ex
planation, and he bade her good-by with manifest cold indiffer
ence. She could not avoid congratulating herself that, since he
must take this journey soon, he had selected the present occasion
to be absent, for she was well aware that he would violently op
pose her wishes in the matter of the Row. When Dr. Arnold
met her, late in the afternoon of the same day, at little Johnnie's
side, his surprise and chagrin found vent, first in a series of oaths,
then, scowling at her like some thunder-cloud with the electrici
ty expended, he said :

" Do you consider me a stark idiot, or a shallow quack ?"

" Neither, sir, I assure you."

" Then, if I know anything about my business, I wrote you
the truth this morning, and you treat my advice with cool con
tempt. You vex me beyond all endurance ! Do you want to
throw yourself into the jaws of death ?"

" Xo, sir ; far from it ; but I had incurred the risk before I
was aware that there was any. Beside, I really do not think I
shall take the fever. I believe a good resolution is a powerful
preventive, and that, you know, I have."

" The deuce you have 1 you obstinate, ungovernable piece of
marble ! Look here, Irene, I shall go straight to your father
and let him know the facts. It is my duty, and I mean to do it."

" I don't think you will, for he started to B county this

morning. And now, Doctor, you may just as well quit scolding
me, for I have made up my mind to nurse Johnnie, come what
will."

" Yes ! I will warrant you have ! and you may as well go
make up your shroud, too — for you will want it, I am thinking."

" Well, my life, at least, is my own, even if it should prove
the price."

" Oh ! is it, indeed ? What has become of that pretty doc
trine you preached to me yesterday ? I thought you belonged
to the whole human fraternity ? Your life yours, indeed 1"

13*

298 MACARIA; OR,

" You forget, Doctor ; 'greater love hath no man than this,
that he lay down his life for his friends.' "

She slipped her hand into his, and looked up, smiling and calm,
into his harsh, swarthy face.

" My child, you made a mistake ; your life belongs to me, for
I saved it in your infancy. I cradled you in my arms, lest death
should snatch you. I have a better right to you than anybody
else in this world. I don't want to see you die ; I wish to go
first."

" I know what I owe you, Doctor ; but I am not going to
die, and you have scolded me enough for one time. Do make
peace."

" Remember, I warned you, and you would not heed."

From that hour she kept faithful vigil in No. 3 — passing con
tinually from one bedside to another. Susan's attack proved
comparatively light, and she was soon pronounced convalescent ;
but little Johnnie was desperately ill, and for several nights
Irene sat at his pillow, fearing that every hour would be his last.
While his delirium was at its height, Hester was taken violently,
and on the morning when Irene felt that her labor was not in
vain and that the boy would get well, his little sister, whom she
had nursed quite as assiduously, grew rapidly worse, and died at
noon. As is frequently observed in such diseases, this increased
in virulence with every new case. It spread with astonishing ce
lerity through the Row, baffling the efforts of the best physi
cians in W ; and finally, the day after Hester's death, as

Irene sat trying to comfort the poor mother, a neighbor came in,
exclaiming :

" Oh, Miss Irene ! Philip Mar.tin is down too. He caught
the fever from his mother, and his father says won't you please
come over ?"

She went promptly, though so wearied she could scarcely
stand, and took a seat by the bed where tossed the poor boy in
whom she had taken sucli an interest since the accident which
crushed his leg in the machinery, and rendered him a temporary
cripple.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 299

" He has been talking about you constantly, Miss Irene, and
calling for yon. Philip, my son, here is Miss Irene."

He smiled and turned, but there was no recognition in the hot
eyes, and after an instant he muttered on incoherently.

" You must go home, Miss Huntingdon ; you are worn out.
His father can watch him till his mother gets stronger," said Dr.
Brandon, who was fully acquainted with her unremitting attend
ance at the next house.

" No, I must stay with Philip ; perhaps be will Know me when
he wakes."

A hope doomed to disappointment, for he raved for four days
and nights, calling frantically for the serene, sad woman who
sat at his pillow, bending over him and laying her cold hand on
his scorched brow. On the fifth day, being free from fever and
utterly prostrated, he seemed sinking rapidly ; but she kept her
fingers on his pulse, and, without waiting for the doctor's advice,
administered powerful stimulants. So passed two hours of painful
anxiety ; then Philip opened his eyes languidly, and looked at
her.

" Philip, do you know me ?"

" Yes— Miss Irene."

She sank back as if some strong supporting hand had sudden
ly been withdrawn from her ; and, observing that she looked
ghastly, Mr. Martin hastily brought her a glass of water. Just
then Dr. Brandon entered, and examined his patient with evident
surprise.

" What have you done to him, Miss Huntingdon ?"

" Since daylight I have been giving him ammonia and brandy ;
his pulse was so feeble and thready I thought he needed it, and
was afraid to wait for you."

" Right ! and you saved his life by it. I could not get here
any earlier, and if you had delayed it until I came it would
probably have been too late. You may call him your patient after
this."

She waited no longer, but staggered to the door ; and Andrew,
seeing how faint she was, came to meet her, and led her to the
carriage. The ten days of watching had told upon her ; and

300 MACAEIA ; OR,

when she reached home, and Nellie brought her wrapper and
unlaced her shoes, she fell back on her lounge in a heavy, death
like sleep. Mr. Huntingdon had been expected two days before,
but failed to arrive at the time designated ; and having her fears
fully aroused, Nellie dispatched a messenger for Dr. Arnold.

CHAPTER XXY.

" Do YOU see any change, Hiram ?"

" None for the better."

Mr. Huntingdon dropped his head upon his hand again, and
Dr. Arnold resumed his slow walk up and down the carpet.
The blue damask curtains had been looped back from the western
window, and the broad band of yellow belting in the sky threw
a mellow light over the bed where lay the unconscious heiress
of the grand old Hill. Fever rouged the polished cheeks usually
pure as alabaster, and touched the parted lips with deeper scarlet,
lending a brilliant and almost unearthly beauty to the sculptured
features. Her hair, partially escaping from confinement, straggled
in crumpled rings and folds across the pillow, a mass of golden
netting ; and the sparkling eyes wandered from one object to
another as if in anxious search. The disease had assumed a dif
ferent type, and instead of raving paroxysms, her illness was
characterized by a silent, wakeful unconsciousness, while opiates
produced only the effect of increasing her restlessness. A week
had passed thus — during which time she had recognized no one,
and though numerous lady friends came to offer assistance, all
were refused permission to see her. Mr. Huntingdon was utterly
ignorant of the duties of a nurse ; and though he haunted the
room like an unlifting shadow, Dr. Arnold and Nellie took entire
charge of the patient. The former was unremitting in his care,
sitting beside the pillow through the long winter nights, and
snatching a few hours sleep during the day. Watching her now,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 301

as he walked to and fro, he noticed that her eyes followed him
earnestly, and he paused at the bedside and leaned over her.

" Irene, what do you want ? Does my walking annoy you ?"

No answer.

" Won't you shut your eyes, my darling, and try to sleep ?"

The deep, brilliant eyes only looked into his with mocking
intentness. He put his fingers on the lids and pressed them
gently down, but she struggled, and turned away her face. Her
hands crept constantly along the snowy quilt as if seeking for
something, and taking them both he folded them in his and
pressed them to his lips, while tears, which he did not attempt
to restrain, fell over them.

" You don't think she is any worse do you ?" asked the father,
huskily.

" I don't know anything, except that she can't lay this way
much longer."

His harsh voice faltered and his stern mouth trembled. He
laid the hands back, went to the window and stood there till the
room grew dusky and the lamp was brought in. As Nellie
closed the door after her, the doctor came to the hearth, and
said, sharply :

" I would not be in your place for John] Jacob Astor's
fortune."

" What do you mean by that ?"

" I mean that, if you have any conscience left, you must suffer
the pains of purgatory for the manner in which you have
persecuted that child."

" In all that I have ever done I have looked only to her good,
to her ultimate happiness. I know that she — ."

" Hush, Leonard ! hush ! You know very well that you have
been down on your knees before the Golden Calf ever since that
girl opened her eyes in this plagued world of trouble ! You are
no more fit to be a father than I am to be a saint ! You have
tyrannized and fretted her poor innocent soul nearly out of her
ever since she was big enough to crawl. Why the d — 1 could
not you let the child have a little peace ? I told you how it
would end ; but oh, no I you could see nothing but the gilt face

302

of your bellowing god ! You tormented her so about Hugh,
that anybody else would have hated the poor fellow. Mind you
she never opened her lips to me with reference to that matter in
her life ; she would have been gibbeted first. But I am not
blind entirely ; I knew what was going on ; I knew that the
proud, sensitive bird was hunted, and could find no spot to rest
upon. There are ninety-nine chances to one that she has come
to her rest at last. You will feel pleasantly when you see her
in her shroud."

His hard face worked painfully, and tears glided down the
wrinkled cheek and hid themselves in his gray beard. Mr.
Huntingdon was much agitated, but an angry flush crossed his
brow as he answered, hastily :

" I am the best judge of my family matters. You are unjust
and severe. Of course, I love my child better than anybody
else."

" Heaven preserve her from such love as you have lavished on
her 1 She is very dear to me. I understand her character ;
you either can not or will not. She is the only thing in this
world that I do really love. I have fondled her from the time
when she was a week old, and it hurts me to see her suffer as
she has done ever since you posted her off among strangers in
New York. It will go hard with me to lay her down, in all her
loveliness, in the grave. My pet, my violet-eyed darling !"

He shaded his face and swallowed a sob, and for some mo
ments neither spoke. After a while the doctor buttoned up his
coat and took his hat.

" I am going down to my office to get a different prescription.
I will be back soon."

" Mrs. Harris and Mrs. Clark said that they would sit up to-
iiight. Hiram, you must be worn out, losing so much sleep."

" Tell Mrs. Harris and Mrs. Clark to go to Egypt ! Do you
suppose I want two such gossip-hawks perched over my dove?
I am going to sit up myself. Give Irene a spoonful of that mix
ture in the small vial at seven o'clock."

Contrary to his phlegmatic habit, the doctor had taken coun
sel of his fears until he was completely unnerved, and he went

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 303

home more than usually surly and snappish. As he entered
his office, Russell advanced to meet him from the window,
whence, for nearly an hour, he had been watching for his arrival.

" Good-evening, doctor."

" What do you want ?"

" How is Miss Huntingdon ?"

" What is Miss Huntingdon to you ?"

" She was one of my mother's best friends, though only a lit
tle girl at the time."

" And you love her for your mother's sake, I suppose ? Truly
filial."

" For that matter, she is beautiful enough to be very easily
loved for her own sake, judging from the number of her devoted
admirers. But I certainly am very grateful for her kindness to
my mother, years ago."

" And well you may be, Aubrey ! She paid dearly for her
friendly interest in your family ."

" In what respect, sir ?"

" In more respects than I choose to recapitulate. Did you
ever know where she got the two hundred dollars which she gave
your mother ?"

" I presume she took it from her own purse."

" She borrowed it from me, and paid me back gradually in the
money that her father gave her, from time to time, while she
was at boarding-school. Cyrus ! you stupid ! bring me some
coffee."

"How is she to-night? Rumors are so unreliable, that I
came to you to find out the truth."

" She is going to die, I am afraid."

A sudden pallor overspread Russell's face, but he sat erect and
motionless, and, fastening his keen eyes upon him, the doctor
added :

" She is about to be transplanted to a better world, if there
is such a place. She is too good and pure for this cursed, pes
tiferous earth."

" Is the case so utterly hopeless ? I can not, I will not, be
lieve it 1" came indistinctly from the young man's bloodless lips.

304 MACAKTA; OR,

" I tell you I know better ! She stands on a hair stretched
across her grave. If I don't succeed to-night in making her
sleep (which I have been trying to accomplish for two days), she
can't possibly live. And what is that whole confounded crew of
factory savages in comparison with her precious life ?"

" Is it true that her illness is attributable to nursing those
people ?"

" Yes. D — 1 take the Row ! I wish the river would swal
low it up."

" Is she conscious ?"

" Heaven only knows ; I don't. She lies with her eyes wide
open, looking at everything as if she were searching for something
which she had lost, but never speaks, and understands nothing,
except to swallow the medicine when I put the spoon to her
lips."

" If I could only see her !" exclaimed Russell, and an expres
sion of such intense agony settled on his features, usually so in
flexible, that his companion was startled and astonished. The
doctor regarded him a moment with perplexity and compassion
mingled in his own face ; then light broke upon him, and, rising,
he laid his hand heavily on Russell's shoulder.

" Of course, Aubrey, you don't visit at that house ?"

" Of course not."

" Do you meet her often ?"

" I have not seen her for nearly a year. Not since the night
in which Hugh Seymour was drowned."

He rose, and turned away to screen his countenance from the
scrutiny to which it was subjected, for the painful shock baffled
all his efforts at self-control, and he felt that his face would be
tray him.

" Where are you going, Aubrey ?"

" Back to my office."

" Is there any message which you would like for me to deliver
to her, if she should recover consciousness ? You may trust me,
young man."

" Thank you ; I have no message to send. I merely called to
ask after her. I trust she will yet recover. Good-night."

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 305

He walked on rapidly till he reached the door of his office.
The gas was burning brightly over his desk, and red-tape and
legal-cap beckoned him in ; but fathomless, blue eyes, calm as
mid-ocean, looked up at him, and, without entering, he turned,
and went through the cold and darkness to the cemetery, to his
mother's tomb. She had been his comfort in boyish sorrows, and
habit was strong ; he went to her grave for it still.

When Russell left him, Dr. Arnold took from his pocket the
only solace he had ever known — his meerschaum. While he
smoked, and mixed some powders in a marble mortar, memory
industriously ran back, raking amid the ashes of the by-gone for
here a word and there a look, to eke out the Ariadne thread
which his imagination was spinning. The possibility of an at
tachment between Irene and the blind widow's son had never oc
curred to him before ; but that Russell's unmistakable emotion
could be referable simply to gratitude to his mother's benefac
tress, was an, explanation of which he was disposed to be very
sceptical. If this surmise should prove correct, what were Irene's
feelings toward the popular young politician ? Here he was ab
solutely without data ; he could recall nothing to assist him ;
but, comprehending the bitter animosity existing between the
lawyer and her father, he sighed involuntarily, knowing the hope
lessness of any such attachment on either or both sides. Deter
mined to satisfy himself of the truth at the earliest opportunity,
he carefully weighed out the powder and rode back to the Hill.
He could perceive no change, unless it were a heightening of the
carmine on cheeks and lips, and an increased twitching of the fin
gers, which hunted so pertinaciously about the bed-clothes.

" That everlasting picking, picking at everything, is such an
awful bad sign," said poor Nellie, who was crying bitterly at the
foot of the bed, and she covered her face with her apron to shut
out the sight.

" You 'pick' yourself off to bed, Nellie ! I don't want you
snubbing and groaning around, day and night."

" I am afraid to leave her a minute. I am afraid when my
poor baby shuts her eyes she will never open 7em again till she
opens 'em in heaven "

306 MACARIA; OR,

" Oh, go along to sleep I you eternal old stupid. I will wako
you up, I tell you, if she gets worse."

lie mixed one of the powders and stooped down.

" Irene — Irene, take this for me, won't you, dear ?"

She gave no intimation of having heard him till he placed the
wineglass to her mouth and raised her head tenderly ; then she
swallowed the contents mechanically. At the expiration of an
hour, he repeated the dose, and at ten o'clock, while he sat
watching her intently, he saw the eyelids begin to droop, the
long, silky lashes quivered and touched her cheeks. When he
listened to her breathing, and knew that at last she slept, his
gray head sank on his chest, and he murmured, inaudibly,
" thank God !" Patient as a woman, he kept his place at her
side, fearing to move lest he should wake her ; the dreary hours
of night wore away ; morning came, gloriously bright, and still
she slept. The flush had faded, leaving her wan as death, and
the little hands were now at rest. She looked like the figures
which all have seen on cenotaphs, and anxiously and often the
doctor felt the slow pulse, that seemed weary of its mission. He
kept the room quiet and maintained his faithful watch, refusing
to leave her for a moment. Twelve o'clock rolled round, and it
appeared, indeed, as if Nellie's prognostication would prove true,
the sleeper was so motionless. At three o'clock the doctor
counted the pulse, and, reassured, threw his head back against
the velvet lining of the chair, and shut his aching eyes. Before
five minutes had elapsed, he heard a faint, sweet voice say, " Pa
ragon." Springing to his feet, he saw her put out her hand to
pat the head of her favorite, who could not be kept out of the
room, and howled so intolerably when they chained him that they
were forced to set him free. Now he stood with his paws on the
pillow and his face close to hers, whining with delight. Tears of
joy almost blinded the doctor as he pushed Paragon aside, and
said, eagerly :

" Irene, one dog is as good as another ! You know Paragon;
do you know me, Queen ?"

" Certainly — I know you, Doctor."

ALTAE8 OF SACRIFICE. 307

"God bless you, beauty 1 You have n't known me for a
week."

" I ain so thirsty — please give me some water." •

He lifted her head and she drank eagerly, till he checked
her.

" There — we have n't all turned hydropathists since you were
taken sick. Nellie ! I say, Nellie ! you witch of Endor ! bring
some wine-whey here. Irene, how do you feel, child ?"

" Very tired and feeble, sir. My head is confused. Where
is father P

" Here I am, my daughter."

He bent down with trembling lips and kissed her, for the first
time since the day of their estrangement, nearly three years be
fore. She put her arms feebly around his neck, and as he held
her to his heart, she felt a tear drop on her forehead.

" Father, have you forgiven me ?"

He either could not or would not answer, but kissed her again
Warmly ; and, as he disengaged her arms and left the room, she
felt assured that, at last, she had been forgiven. She took the
whey silently, and, after some moments, said :

11 Doctor, have you been sitting by me a long time ?"

" I rather think I have ! — losing my sleep for nearly ten
days, you unconscionable young heathen."

" Have I been so ill as to require that ? I have a dim recol
lection of going on a long journey, and of your being by my side
all the way."

" Well, I hope you traveled to your entire satisfaction, and
found what you wanted — for you were feeling about, as if hunt
ing for something, the whole time. Oh ! I am so thankful that
you know me once more. Child, you have cost me a deal of
sorrow. Now be quiet, and go to sleep again ; at least don't
talk to Nellie or Paragon. I shall take a nap on the sofa in the
library."

She regained her strength very slowly, and many days elapsed
before she was able to leave her room. One bright sunny morning
she sat before the open window, looking down on the lawn
where the pigeons flashed in and out of the hedges, and now and

308 MACARIA ; OR,

then glancing at the bouquet of choice hot-house flowers in the
vase beside her. In her lap lay a letter just received from Har
vey Young — a letter full of fond remembrance, grave counsel,
and gentle encouragement — and the unbent lines about her
month showed that her mind was troubled.

The doctor came in and drew up a chair.

" I should like to know who gave you leave to ride yester-
ay?"

" Father thought that I was well enough, and the carriage
was close and warm. I hope, sir, that I shall not be on your
hands much longer. '

" What did I tell you ? Next time don't be so hard-headed,
when you are advised by older and wiser persons. I trust you
are quite satisfied with the result of your elemosynary perform
ances at the Row."

" Far from it, Doctor. I am fully acclimated now, and have
nothing to fear in future. I am very sorry, sir, that I caused
you all so much trouble and anxiety ; I did nof believe that I
should take the fever. If Philip had not been so ill I should
have come out safely ; but I suppose, my uneasiness about him
unnerved me in some way — for, when I saw that he would get
well, all my strength left me in an instant. How is he, sir ?"

" Oh 1 the young dog is as well as ever ; limps around now
without his crutches. Conies to my office every day to ask after
his blessed Lady Bountiful."

Leaning forward carelessly, but so as to command a full view
of her face, he added :

" You stirred up quite an excitement in town, and introduced
me generally to society. People, who never inflicted themselves
on me before, thought it was incumbent on them to hang
around my door to make enquiries, concerning my fair patient.
One night I found even that statue of bronze and steel, Russell
Aubrey, waiting at my office to find out whether you really in
tended translation."

A change certainly passed swiftly over her countenance ; but
it was inexplicable, indescribable ; an anomalous lightening of
the eye and darkening of the brow. Before he could analyse it

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 309

her features resumed their wonted serenity, and he found her voice
unfluttered.

" I was not aware that I had so many friends ; it is a pleasant
discovery, and almost compensates for the pain of illness. Take
care, Doctor ! You are tilting my flowers of their vase."

" Confound the flowers, Queen 1 They are always in the way.
It is a great pity there is such Theban-brother affection between
your father and Aubrey. He has any amount of fine feeling
hid away under that dark, Jesuitical, non-committal face of his.
He has not forgotten your interest in his mother, and when I told
him that I thought you had determined to take your departure
from this world, he seemed really hurt about it. I always liked
the boy, but I think he is a heretic in politics."

Looking steadily at him as he spoke, she smiled coldly, and
answered :

" It is very apparent that the fierceness of party spirit, this
bitter political animosity, is driving the ship of state on the rock
of ruin. The foamy lips of the breakers are just ahead, but you
men will not open your eyes to the danger."

" Better get some of you wise women to pilot us, I dare say 1"
sneered her companion, provoked at ner unsatisfactory manner
and inflexible features.

"It is not our calling, Doctor ; but I promise you if the ex
periment were tried, that you would find no Palinorus among us.'
We have no desire to thrust ourselves into the forum, like Ro
man women ' storming at the Oppian Law and crushing Cato :'
still less to imitate Hortensia, and confronting august Triumvirs
in the market-place, harangue against the tax, however unjust.
Practically, women should have as little to do with politics as
men with darning stockings or making puff-paste ; but we should
be unworthy of the high social status which your chivalry accords
us were we indifferent to the conduct of public affairs.

' Man for the field, and woman for the hearth :
Man for the sword, and for the needle she :
Man with the head, and woman with the heart :
Man to command, and woman to obey.'

Such is the judicious arrangement of nature — a wise and hap-

310 MACARIA; OR,

py one indubitably. We bow before it, and have no wish to
trench on your prerogatives ; but we do protest against your
sleeping on your posts, or lulling yourselves with dreams of sel
fish ambition when Scylla and Charybdis grin destruction on
either side."

" Phew — Queen ! who told you all that ? Has Aubrey in
doctrinated you in his 'fire-eating/ schismatic principles ? What
platform do you propose to mount ?"

" None, sir, but that of the constitution — ignoring both Whig
and Democratic additions which make it top heavy. I don't
like latter-day political carpentering. I want to see Nestors in
the councils of my country, not nerveless imbeciles or worthless,
desperate political gamesters."

" You rabid little Jacobin I Don't you think that Portia-
like, you might completely transmogrify yourself, and get into
Congress and Cabinet long enough to write ' Mene, mene' on
their walls ?"

" They would have no Daniel there, even if I should, which is
no business of mine. Doctor, I claim to be no politician ; a
thousand years will scarcely produce another De Stael. I am
simply a true lover of my country — anxious in view of its stormy,
troubled future."

" Aubrey has not proselyted you, then, after all ?"

She had unlocked her writing-desk, and, without seeming to
hear his last words, handed him a letter.

" Here is a letter from uncle Eric, which I received yesterday.
It contains a message for you about some medical books and
journals."

He muttered something indistinctly, put the letter in his
pocket, and took her hand.

" Irene — what is the matter, dear child ? Your pulse is en
tirely too quick."

" That is nothing new, Doctor. Father insists that I shall
drink port-wine, and it does not suit me — keeps my head aching
continually."

" Try porter instead."

She shook her head wearily.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 311

" I need nothing, sir, but to be let alone."

He smoothed back her hair and said, hastily :

" You will never get what you need. Oh, child 1 why won't
you trust me ?"

" Why— Doctor ! I do."

" Hush ! don't tell me that I I know better. You steel that
white face of yours, and lock your confidence from the old man
who loves you above all other things."

She drew down his hand from her head and leaned her cold
cheek upon it.

" You misunderstand me, sir ; I repose the most perfect con
fidence in you. If I were in trouble, and wanted help or a favor
of any kind, I would apply to you sooner than to any other hu
man being — for you have always been more patient with my
whims than even my own father — and I should be worse than an
ingrate if I had not the most complete trust in you. My dear,
kind friend, what have I done to fret you ?"

He did not reply, but searched her countenance sorrowfully.

" Doctor, tell me one thing. You nursed me constantly whilo
I was unconscious, and I want to know whether I said anything
during my delirium that surprised or annoyed you."

" No ; the trouble was that you sealed your lips hermetically.
Are you afraid now that you divulged some secret which I may
betray ?"

" I am not afraid of your betraying anything — never had such
a thought. When do you think that I may take a horse-back
ride with impunity ? I am so tired of the house."

" Not for a week, at least. You must be prudent, Irene, for
you are not strong yet, by a great deal."

" I wanted to talk to you, this morning, about something very
near my heart ; but you are going."

" I can wait, my child. What is it ?"

" To-morrow will do as well. I want you to aid me in get
ting a bill passed by the legislature, appropriating a school fund
for this county. Perhaps you can obtain Mr. Aubrey's influ
ence with the members of the lower house."

" Perhaps I'll go to the North Pole to cool a glass of amon-

312 MACARIA ; OK,

tillado for your majesty ! I'll be hanged if I have anything to
do with it 1 Why the deuce can't you ask Mr. Aubrey your
self ?"

" Because, in the first place, you know very well that I never
see him, and I could not ask him, even if I should meet him ;
and, beside, I do not wish to be known at all in the affair. It
is not a woman's business to put forward legislative bills."

" Indeed ! Then why are you meddling with other people's
business ?"

" Our legislators seem to have forgotten one grand and good
maxim of Lycurgus : ' Children are the property of the state, to
whom alone their education should be intrusted/ They have
forgotten that our poor require educating, and I simply desire
some of their constituents to call their attention to the oversight.
Doctor, I know you will do it."

" I will first see myself floundering like Pharaoh ! I'll rake
out nobody's chestnuts I Not even yours, child ! Put down
that window ; the air is too chilly. You are as cold as an ice
berg and as blue as a gentian."

The doctor had scarcely taken his departure when Nellie's tur-
baned head showed itself at the door.

" That factory-boy, Philip, is down stairs ; he brought back a
book, and wants to see you. He seems in trouble ; but you
don't feel like being bothered to-day, do you ?"

"Did he ask to see me ?"

" Not exactly ; but showed very plainly he wanted to see
you."

" Let him come up."

As he entered, she rose and held out her hand.

" Good-morning, Philip ; I am glad you are well enough to
be out again."

He looked at her reverently, and, as he noticed the change her
illness had wrought, his lips quivered and his eyes filled.

' ' Oh, Miss Irene ! I am so glad you are better. I prayed ft r
you all the time while you were so very ill."

" Thank you. Sit down, and tell me about the sick."

,

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 313

" They are all better, I believe, ma'm, except Mrs. Davis.
She was wishing yesterday that she could see you again."

" I shall go there in a day or two. You are walking pretty
well without your crutches. Have you resumed your work ?"

" I shall begin again to-morrow."

" It need not interfere with your studies. The nights are very
I jng now, and you can accomplish a great deal if you feel disposed
to do so."

He did not answer immediately, and, observing the cloud on
his countenance, she added :

" Philip, what is the matter ? You look troubled ; can I do
anything for you ?"

A deep flush mantled his sallow cheek, and, drooping his head
as if in humiliation, he said, passionately :

" Oh, Miss Irene ! You are the only friend I have. I am so
mortified I can hardly look anybody in the face. Father is drink
ing again worse than ever, and is so violent that mother won't
stay at home ; she has gone across the river for a few days. I
have done all I could, but I can't influence him."

" Where is he now ?"

" The police put him in the guard-house last night for creating
a disturbance. I suppose when the Mayor holds court, he will
be fined and turned out. Miss Irene, I feel like jumping into the
river and drowning myself. It is so horrible to be ashamed of
my own father."

He dropped his face in his hands, and she saw that he trem
bled -violently.

" You must struggle against such feelings, Philip ; though it
is certainly very mortifying to know that your father has been
arrested. If you conduct yourself properly, people will respect
you all the more because of your misfortune."

" No, Miss Irene ! they are always holding it up to me. Hard
as I try to do right, they are continually sneering at me, and
sometimes it makes me almost desperate."

" That is unjust and ungenerous. No one, who has any refine
ment or goodness of heart, will be guilty of such behavior. I do
not know positively that I can assist you, but I think it possible

14

314 MACAEIA; OB,

I can obtain a situation for your father as carpenter on a plan*
tation in the country, if he will promise to abstain from drinking.
I have heard that he was a very good mechanic, and in the coun
try he would not meet with such constant temptation. Do you
suppose that he will be willing to leave town ?"

" Oh, yes, rna'm ! I think so ; he is generally very repentant
when he gets sober. If you please, Miss Irene, I should be so
glad if you would talk to him, and persuade him to take the
pledge before he starts. I believe he would join the Temperance
society if you asked him to do it. Oh ! then I should have some
heart to work."

" You and your mother must try to influence him, and in a few
days I will talk to him. In the meantime I will see about the
situation, which is a very desirable one. I am very sorry, Philip,
that this trouble has occurred again ; I know that it is very
painful, but you must endeavor to be patient and hopeful, and to
bear up bravely. Brighter days will soon come, I trust."

He took his cap from the carpet, rose, and looked at her with
swimming eyes.

" Oh , Miss Irene ! I wish I could tell you all I feel. I thank
you more than I can ever express, and so does mother."

" You have finished your book, I see ; don't you want another ?
Nellie will show you the library, and on the lower book-shelf, on
the right-hand side of the door, you will find a large volume in
leather binding — ' Plutarch.' Take it with you, and read it
carefully. Good-by. I shall come down to the How to-morrow
or next day."

As she heard his halting step descend the stairs she leaned
back wearily in her chair, and, closing her eyes, these words crept
almost audibly over her pale lips :

" But go to ! thy love

Shall chant itself, its own beatitudes,
After its own life-working. A child's kiss
Set on the sighing lips, shall make thee glad ;
A poor man served by thoe, shall make thee rich ;
A sick man helped by thee, shall make thee strong."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 315

CHAPTER XXYI

" WELL, Irene, what is your decision about the party at Mrs.
Churchill's to-night ?"

" I will go with you, father, if it is a matter of so much interest
to you ; though, as I told you yesterday, I should prefer declin
ing the invitation as far as I am concerned."

"It is full time for you to go into society again. You have
moped at home long enough."

11 ' Moped' is scarcely the right word, father."

" It matters little what you call it, the fact is the same. You
have shut yourself in till you have grown to look like a totally
different woman. Indeed, Irene, I won't permit it any longer :
you must come out into the world once more. I am sick of your
black looks ; let me see you in colors to-night."

" Will not pure white content you, father ?"

" No ; I am tired of it ; wear something bright."

Mr. Huntingdon smoked his after- breakfast cigar half-reclined
on the upper step, and Irene walked up and down the wide col-
ouade, enjoying the cool, dewy, fragrant June day, whose sun was
rapidly mounting in heaven. The air was of that peculiar still
ness found only in southern summer mornings, but now and then
its holy calm was rippled by the contented ringing whistle of
a partridge far down among the grassy orchard-depths, and by
the peaceful chime of doves cooing soft and low, one to another,
in the thickest shadows of the dripping grove. True summer
sounds — sure concomitants of June. Frail, foam-like cloud-navies
in line of-battle, as if piloted by dubious, treacherous winds, sailed
lazly across the sea of intense blue, staring down covetously at
a ripening field of flashing wheat, which bowed and waved in
a long billowy sweep and swell as the mild June breeze stole
over it ; and on a neighboring hill-side, where sickles had been
busy a few days before, the royal yellow shocks stood thick and
tall in crowded ranks, like golden gods of Plenty.

316 MACAKIA ; OK,

Ab ! rare June da}', impearled and purpled, freshly growing
from the throbbing hands of Deity, serenely regal on her south
ern throne as Sheba's brown queen.

" Irene, sit here on the step, where I can see you without
twisting my head off my shoulders. Now, then — what is the
matter with you ?"

" Nothing unusual, father."

" Don't evade me. Why can't you look and act like other
girls of your age ?"

" Probably because I feel differently. But to what do you
allude ? In what respect have I displeased you ?"

" Oh 1 in a thousand. You never would look at things in
their proper light. Why did you treat William Bainbridge so
coldly yesterday evening ? You know very well that he came
here expressly to see you."

" And for that reason, sir, I felt it my duty to receive the visit
coolly."

" You disappointed all my plans for you once ; but let me tell
you, if you are not a down-right simpleton, you will accept the
offer William Bainbridge. came here to make. You are aware
of the warm friendship which has always existed between the
governor and myself, and his son is considered the finest match
in the state. If you live a thousand years you will never have a
better offer, or another as good ; and I do hope, my daughter,
that you will not be insane enough to reject him."

" Father, why are you so anxious to get rid of your only
child ?"

"I am not : but you must marry some time, and I know very
well such an opportunity as this will not recur." •

" Don't you think, sir, that you and I could live always hap
pily here without planting a stranger at our fireside ? Father,
let us understand each other fully. I speak deliberately and
solemnly — I shall never marry."

Mr. Huntingdon started up from his indolent posture and sur
veyed his daughter keenly.

Her spotless muslin morning-dress swept down the marble
steps, its wide sleeves falling away from the rounded, dazzling

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. f 317

arms, and a black cord and tassel girding the waist. The gera
nium leaves fastened at her throat were unstirred as the silver-
dusted lilies sleeping lotos-like, on some lonely tarn ; and the
dewy Lamarque roses twined in her coiled hair, glittered and
kindled into faint opaline flushes as the sunshine quivered into
their creamy hearts. One hand held a steel ring, to which half-
a-dozen keys were attached — the other toyed unconsciously with
the heavy tassel, and the hushed face, with its deep, holy eyes,
was lifted to meet her father's.

" Nonsense, Irene ! I have heard fifty women say that same
thing, and have danced at their weddings six months later."

" I do not doubt it. But, father, no one will ever dance at
mine."

" And, pray, why have n't you as good a rigftt to marry and
be happy as other women ?"

"The abstract right, and the will to use it, are different,
father ; and, as regards happiness, I love my own beautiful home
too well to desire to change it for any other. Let me be quiet
here — I ask no more."

" But, Irene, I can't be expected to live always, even were my
society sufficient for you, which is not true."

" Death yields allegiance to no decree of man. I may find
Hugh in another world before you are called to quit this."

Her father shuddered, and smoked silently for several seconds;
then the crash of wheels on the shelled avenue startled both.

" Here comes Bainbridge, now. I promised him that you
would play a game of billiards with him this morning. For
heaven's sake, Irene ! be reasonable for once in your life ; let me
hear no more such stuff as you have been talking, but treat the
man civilly, and give him what he will ask."

The handsome suitor came up the steps rather dubiously, as ii
fearful of his welcome ; and the heiress rose composedly and re
ceived him with graceful, polished, imperturbable reserve. A
few months before, in compliance with her father's earnest re
quest, she had accompanied him to the capital of the state, and
during this brief visit met and completely fascinated Mr. Bain-
bridge, whose attentions were susceptible of but one iuterpreta-

318 . MACAKTA ; OR,

tion. lie was a year her senior — a cliivalric, agreeable, gay
young man, who had grown up without selecting a profession,
knowing that his ample fortune would more than suffice for his
maintenance. He was the only son of the governor ; his charac
ter was unimpeachable, his nature magnanimous, and many of
his impulses were truly noble — but his intellect was far inferior
to hers. He could no more comprehend her than some long-in-
urned Assyrian scroll, for which the cipher-key is wanting ; and
in the midst of his devotion she was conscious of no feeling save
that of utter indifference, sometimes waxing into impatience at
his frequent visits. She had studiously avoided encouraging his
attentions, but he either could not or would not interpret her cold
reticence.

The morning was spent over the billiard-table, and at last,
foiled by her skilful guiding of the fragmentary conversation,
Mr. Bainbridge having been refused the honor of escorting her
to the party, took his leave, expressing the hope that in a few
hours he should see her again.

" Well ?" said Mr. Huntingdon, seating himself at the lunch
eon-table.

" Well, father ; we played till I was heartily tired."

" But the result of the visit, Irene ?"

" The result was that I beat him three games out of five.
John, where is the claret ? You have forgotten it ; here are the
keys."

" Pshaw ! I mean, did Bainbridge come to the point ?"

" I took most of the points from him."

" Confound your quibbling ! Did you accept him ?"

" I am happy to be able to tell you, sir, that he did not afford
me an opportunity."

" Then I will be sworn it was your fault, not his."

A short silence ensued : Irene sat, seemingly abstracted, dip
ping her slender hand in a ruby-colored Bohemian finger-bowl.
Presently John returned ; she took the bottle from him, and,
filling her father's glass, said, earnestly :

" Father, I have a favor to ask at your hands ; are you in a
mood for concessions ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 319

" ' That depends — ,' as Guy Darrell says. What is it ? Do
you want a new collar for Paragon, or a bran new pigeon-box
twice the size of the old one ? Something unreasonable, I will
warrant. You never want what you ought to have. Speak out,
my bleached gentile Esther 1"

" I do want another pigeon-box badly, but that is not to be
•asked for to-day. Father, will you give me that large beautiful
vacant lot, with the old willow tree, on the corner of Pine street
and Huntingdon avenue, opposite the court-house ?"

" Upon my word I I must say you are very modest in your
request ! What the deuce do you want with it ?"

" I know that I am asking a good deal, sir ; but I want it as
a site for an orphan asylum. Will you give it to me ?"

" No ! I'll be hanged if I do ! Arc you going entirely de
ranged I What business have you with asylums, I should like
to know ? Put all of that ridiculous stuff out of your head.
Here is something for which I sent to Europe. Eric selected it
in Paris, and it arrived yesterday. Wear it to-night."

He drew a velvet case from his pocket and laid it before her.
Touching the spring, the lid flew open, and on the blue satin
lining lay the blazing coils of a magnificent diamond necklace
and bracelets.

" How beautiful I how splendidly beautiful !"

She bent over the flashing mass in silent admiration for
some time, examining the delicate setting, then looked up at her
father.

" What did they cost ?"

" Why do you want to know that ?"

" I am pardonably curious on the subject."

" Well, then, I was silly enough to give seven thousand dol
lars for them."

" And what was the value of that lot I asked for ?"

" Five thousand dollars."

" Father, these diamonds are the finest I ever saw. Tiny
are superbly beautiful ; a queen might be proud of them, and [
thank you most earnestly for such a gorgeous present ; but if you

320 ^

will not be offended, I will be candid with you — I would a thou
sand times rather have the lot than the jewels."

The expression of blank astonishment with which these words
were received would have been ludicrous but for the ominous
thickening of his brows.

" Father, do not feel hurt with me, or attribute my conduct
to any want of gratitude for your indulgent kindness. If I love
lie smiles of happy children more than the radiance of these
costly gems, and would rather wear in my heart the contented
faces of well-cared-for orphans than on my neck these glittering
diamonds, may I not at least utter my preference without offend
ing you ? When I think of the better use to which this money
might be applied, the incalculable good it would effect, I shrink
from hoarding it up on my person to dazzle the eyes of my associ
ates, to incite some to imitate the lavish expenditure, and to awaken
iii others envious discontent at their inability to cover themselves
with similar splendor. The result of such an example on our socie
ty would be like dropping a pebble into some crystal lakelet sleep
ing in evening sunshine ; the wavering ring would widen till the
entire glassy surface was shivered into spinning circles and dash
ed on the rocky shore beyond. Father, forgive me, if I have
gaid anything disagreeable to you. I shall be grieved indeed if,
on occasion of your too generous indulgence, any dissension arise
between us. Tell me that you are not angry with me."

She laid her fingers on his arm, but he shook off the touch,
and, scowling, sullenly, snatched the velvet case from her hand
and stamped out of the room — slamming the door so violently
that the glasses on the table rang out a tinkling chime, and the
red wine in the bottle danced a saraband.

He went to town, and she met him no more till she was attired
for the party. Standing before the mirror in her own room she
arranged the flowers in her hair, and, when the leaves were dis
posed to suit her fastidious taste, she took up a pearl set which
he had given her years before, intending to wear it. But just
then raising her eyes, she saw her father's image reflected in the
glass. Without turning she put up her arms, and laying her
head back on his shoulder said, eagerly :

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 821

" My dear, dear father, do let us be reconciled."

Clouds and moodiness melted from his handsome features as
he bent over her an instant, kissing her fondly ; then his hands
passed swiftly over her neck, an icy shower fell upon it and she
was clothed with light.

, " My beautiful child, wear your diamonds as a seal of peace.
I can't let you have the Pine street lot — I want it for a different
purpose ; but I will give you three acres on the edge of town,
near the depot, for your asylum whim. It is a better location
every way for your project."

" Thank you, father. Oh ! thank you more than words can
express."

She turned her lips to one of the hands still lingering on her
shoulder.

" Irene, look at yourself. Diana of Ephesus 1 what a blaze
of glory !"

" Father, it would not require much stretch of imagination to
believe that, by some descendental metemsychosis, I had become
an exhumed member of the sacred gnomides, torn ruthlessly from
my sisterhood in Cerro do Frio, or the cold, dreary caverns of
the Agathyrsi."

" The metamorphosis is not sufficiently complete without your
bracelets. Put them on and come down ; the carriage is ready.
Where is your bouquet-holder ? Give it to me ; I will fasteu
the flowers in, while you draw on your gloves."

Two days before the marriage of Charles Harris and Maria
Henderson had been celebrated with considerable pomp, and the
party to-night was given in honor of the event by Mrs. Churchill,
a widowed sister of Judge Harris. She had spent several years
in Paris superintending the education of a daughter, whom she
had recently brought home to reside near her uncle, and dazzle
all W with her accomplishments.

At ten o'clock there stood beneath the gas-lights in her elegant
parlor a human fleshy antithesis, upon which all eyes were rivet
ed — Salome Churchill — a dark imperious beauty, of the Cleopatra
type, with very full crimson lips, passionate or pouting as occa
sion demanded ; brilliant black eyes that, like August days,

322 MACARTA ; OR,

burned dewless and unclouded, a steady blaze ; thick shining
black hair elaborately curled, and a rich tropical complexion,
clear and glowing as the warm blood that pulsed through her
rounded graceful form. She wore a fleecy fabric, topaz-colored,
with black lace trimmings ; yellow roses gemmed her hair, and
topaz and ruby ornaments clasped her throat and arms. An
Eastern queen she looked, exacting universal homage, and full
of liery jealousy whenever her eyes fell upon one who stood just
opposite. A statuesque face, pure and calm as any ever cut
from Pentelic quarry, and cold as its dews — the delicately-
carved features borrowing no color from the glare around her,
the polished shoulders and perfect arms gleaming frigidly in the
rainbow light of her diamonds, and the bronze hair caught up by a
pearl comb, with here and there a cluster of clematis bells droop-,
ing toward her neck. Irene's dress was an airy blue tulle, flounced
to the waist, and without trimming, save the violet and clematis
clusters. Never had her rare beauty been more resplendent —
more dazzlingly chilly ; it seemed the glitter of an arctic iceberg
lit by some low midnight sun, and turn whither she would fascin
ated groups followed her steps. Salome's reputation as a brilliant
Idle had become extended since Irene's long seclusion, yet to
night, on the re-appearance of the latter, it was apparent to
even the most obtuse that she had resumed her sway — the
matchless cynosura of that social system. Fully conscious of the
intense admiration she excited, she moved slowly from room to
room, smiling once or twice when she met her father's proud
look of fond triumph fixed upon her.

Leaning against the window to rest, while Charles Harris
went in search of a glass of water, she heard her name pro
nounced by some one on the gallery.

" They say Irene Huntingdon is positively going to marry
Bainbridge. Splendid match on both sides. Won't she shine
at the Governor's mansion ? I wonder if she really grieved
much for Seymour ? How perfectly lovely she is ; and Hunt
ingdon is so proud of her. By the way, Neal, have you heard
the last gossip ?"

ALTARS OF SACKIFICE. 323

"About whom ? I have been away a month, you must re
member, and am behind the times. Do tell me."

" Well, the very latest report is that, after all, Aubrey never
fancied Grace Harris, as tho quidnuncs asserted — never address
ed her, or anybody else — but is now sure enough about to bear
off Idle Salome, the now prize, right in the face of twenty rivals.
I should rea-lly like to hear of something which that man could
not do, if he set himself to work in earnest. I wonder whether
it ever occurs to him that he once stood behind Jacob Watson's
counter ?"

" But Aubrey is not here to-night. Does not affect parties, I
believe?"

11 Rarely shows himself ; but you mistake ; he came in not
twenty minutes ago, arid you should have seen what I saw — the
rare-ripe red deepen on Salome's cheeks when he spoke to her."

Irene moved away from the window, and soon after was about
to accompany Charlie to the hall, when Mr. Bainbridge came up
and claimed her hand for the cotillion forming in the next room.
As they took their places on the floor, she saw that Salome and
Russell would be vis-a-vis. With an effort she raised her eyes to
those of the man whom she had seen last at Hugh's bier ; he
drooped his head very slightly, she inclined hers ; then the band
smote their instruments, violin and piano, and the crash of music
filled the house.

Irene moved mechanically through the airy mazes of the dance,
giving apparent attention to the low-tonedN half-whispered obser
vations of her devoted partner, but straining her ear to catch the
mellow voice which uttered such graceful, fascina^ng nothings to
Salome. Several times in the course of the cotillion Russell's
hand clasped hers, but even then he avoided looking at her, and
seemed engrossed in conversation with his gay partner. Once
Irene looked up steadily, and as she noted the expression with
which he regarded his companion she wondered no longer at the
rumor she had heard, and acknowledged to herself that they
were, indeed, a handsome couple. Dr. Arnold, whom Mrs. Church
ill had coaxed into " showing himself," had curiously watched
this meeting, and observing Russell's marked attentions, puzzled

MAC ARIA ; OR,

over the question : " Does he really care for that fire-fly, or is
he only trying to make Irene jealous ?" He looked long and
earnestly at both, then sighed heavily. What did that haughty,
blue-robed woman know of jealousy ? How absurd such a sug
gestion seemed when she turned her smiling, passionless face full
upon him. The dance ended ; Irene found herself seated on a
sofa at the window of the deserted library, and Russell and Sa
lome walked slowly up and down the yeranda in front of it.
Mr. Bainbridge had manoeuvred for this opportunity, and, seated
beside Irene, he eagerly and eloquently pleaded his cause, assur
ing her of a devotion which should know no diminution, and em
phasizing the fact that he had possessed himself of her father's
sanction.

She made no attempt to interrupt him, but sat erect and mo
tionless, with one hand partially shielding her face, and the other
pressed hard against her heart, where a dull continual pain was
gnawing. Every few minutes Russell passed the window, his
noble head bent down to the beautiful companion on his arm.
Irene could see the outline of his features distinctly, and her soul
sickened as she watched him and reasoned concerning the future.
He would probably marry somebody, and why not Salome ? She
could not expect him to remain single always, and he could never
be more than a stranger to her. After his marriage what a
blank her life would be ; to love him still would be sinful. She
moved her finger slightly and looked fixedly at the handsome man
beside her, entreating her to give him the privilege of making
her life happy. For an instant she wavered. The world held
nothing for he£ but dreariness at best ; she was weary of aliena
tion and contention ; why not accede to her father's wishes, and
thus repair the grievous disappointment of other days ? William
Bainbridge loved her, and perhaps if she were -his wife the sanc
tity of her vows might strengthen her in tearing another image
from her heart. She took her future in the palm of her hand,
and pondered. At this moment the couple on the veranda paus
ed in front of the window, to allow the promenading crowd to
pass, and Russell looked in, with a brilliant smile on his counte
nance. It seemed to mock her with a " Marry him if you dare !"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 325

The two passed on into the parlors, and closing her e}res a mo
ment, as if shutting out some hideous vision, Irene briefly, but
firmly and irrevocably, declined the flattering offer ; and rising,
left him with his disappointment. She looked about for Dr. Ar
nold, but he had disappeared ; her father was deep in a game of
euchre ; and as she crossed the hall she was surprised to see
Philip leaning against the door-facing, and peering curiously into
the parlors.

" Philip, what are you doing here ?"

" Oh, Miss Irene I I have been hunting for you ever so long.
Mrs. Davis is dying, and Susan sent me after you. I went to
your house two hours ago, and they said you were here. I ran
back and told mother you could not come. But Mrs. Davis
worried so, they sent me here. She says she won't die in peace
unless she sees you. She wrung her hands, and asked me if you
would not have time enough to go to parties when she was in
her grave ? Will you come, ma'm ?"

" Of course. Philip, find Andrew and the carriage, and I
will meet you at the side door in five minutes."

She went to the dressing-room, asked for pencil and paper,
and wrote a few lines, which she directed the servant to hand
immediately to her father — found her shawl, and stole down to
the side door. She saw the dim outline of a form sitting on the
step, in the shadow of clustering vines, and asked :

" Is that you, Philip ? I am ready.'7

The figure rose, came forward into the light, hat in hand, and
both started visibly.

" Pardon me, Mr. Aubrey. I mistook you in the darkness for
another "

Here Philip ran up the steps.

" Miss Irene, Andrew says he can't get to the side gate fof
the carriages. He is at the front entrance."

" Can I assist you, Miss Huntingdon ?"

" I thank you ; no."

" May I ask if you are ill ?"

" Not in the least— but I am suddenly called away."

She passed him, and accompanied Philip to the carriage. A

326 MACAKIA ; OR,

few minutes rapid driving brought them to the Row, and, direct
ing Andrew to return and wait for her father, Irene entered the
low small chamber where a human soul was pluming itself for its
final flight home. The dying woman knew her even then in the
fierce throes of dissolution, and the sunken eyes beamed as she
bent over the pillow.

" God bless you ! I knew you would come. My children —
what will become of them ? Will you take care of them ? Tell
me quick."

" Put your mind at rest, Mrs. Davis. I will see that your
children are well cared for in every respect."

" Promise me 1" gasped the poor sufferer, clutching the jewelled
arm.

" I do promise you most solemnly that I will watch over them
constantly. They shall never want so long as I live. Will you
not believe me, and calm yourself ?"

A ghastly smile trembled over the distorted features, and she
bowed her head in assent. Irene poured some cordial into a
glass arid put it to her lips, but she refused the draught, and,
joining her emaciated hands, muttered, half-inaudibly :

" Pray for me once more. Oh ! pray for me, my best friend."
Kneeling on the bare floor in the midst of a sobbing group,
Irene prayed long and earnestly, and gradually, as her sweet
voice rolled through the room, a peaceful look settled on the dy
ing mother's face. At last the petition ended and silence reign
ed, broken only by the smothered sobs of Susan and little John
nie, who clung to Irene's1 hand arid buried his face in her dress
as she still knelt at the bedside.

" Mrs. Davis, don't you feel that you will soon be at rest with
God?"

" Yes — I am going home happy — happy."
She closed her eyes and whispered :
" Sing my — hymn — once — more."

Making a great effort to crush her own feelings, Irene sang
(he simple but touching words of " Home Again," and though
her voice faltered now and then, she sang it through — knowing,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 327

from the expression of the sufferer's face, that the spirit was
passing to its endless re st.

It was a strange scene. The poverty of the room — the ema
ciated form, with sharp, set features — the magnificently beauti
ful woman kneeling there in her costly festal robes, with the
light of the tallow candle flickering over her diamonds, setting
her neck, and arms on fire — and the weeping girl and wailing
curly-haired boy, whose tearful face was hidden in the full flounces
of blue tulle. " Passing strange," thought the proud man of
the world, who had followed her from the scenes of festivity, and
now stood in the door-way listening, with hushed breath, to the
prayer she had put up, to the words of the hymn she had sung
so sorrowfully, and gazing in silent adoration upon the face and
form of the kneeling woman. ]NTow one of the beautiful arms
stole around the trembling child who clung to her so tenaciously,
and she gently lifted the chestnut curls from his flushed face.

" Don't sob so, Johnnie. Your mother is in heaven, where
there is no sorrow, or sickness, or trouble. She will be very
happy there ; and if you are as good and patient as she was,
you will meet her in heaven when God calls you to die."

" Oh ! is she dead ? Miss Irene, is my mother dead ?"

" My dear little boy, she has gone to our Father in heaven,
who will make her happier than she could possibly be in this world."

A passionate burst of sorrow followed the discovery of the
melancholy truth, and rising from the floor Irene seated herself
on a chair, taking the child on her lap, and soothing his violent
grief. Too young to realize his loss, he was easily comforted,
and after a time grew quiet. She directed Susan to take him
into the next room and put him on his pallet ; and when she had
exchanged a few words with Philip's mother about the disposi
tion of the rigid sleeper, she turned to quit the apartment, and
saw Russell standing on the threshold. Had the dead mother
suddenly stepped before her she would scarcely have been more
astonished and startled.

lie extended one hand, and hastily taking hers, drew her to
the door of the narrow, dark hall, where the newly-risen moon
shone in.

328 MACARIA ; OR,

" Come out of this charnel-house into the pure air once more.
Do not shrink back — trust yourself with me this once, at least."
The brick walls of the factory rose a hundred yards off in full
view of the Row, and leading her along the river bank he placed
her on one of the massive stone steps of the building.

" What brought you here to-night, Mr. Aubrey ?"

" An unpardonable curiosity concerning your sudden depart
ure — an unconquerable desire to speak to you once more.

" You witnessed a melancholy scene."

" Yes — melancholy indeed ; but not half so sad as one which
memory held before me while I watched yonder pale corpse grow
rigid. The veil of the past was rent, and I stood again over rn^r
own dead mother. For me there is no Lethe. In memoriam
creeps in sombre characters over all that I look upon."

A waning June moon, in its last quarter, struggled feebly up
the eastern sky, " hounded by a few dim stars," and the spectral
light fell like a dying smile upon the silent scene — the broad
swift river flashing below, champing with foamy lips on the rocky
bit that barred its current, and breaking into shimmering silver
cataracts as it leaped triumphantly over a gray ledge of granite
and thundered down into the basin beyond, churning itself into
diamond spray, that wreathed and fluttered in gleaming threads
like a bridal veil streaming on some mild May breeze. The
shining shafts of water gave back the ghastly light as huge
mirrors might, and from the dark depths of foliage on the op
posite bank and the lofty aisles of pine-clad hills stretching far
westward and overtopping all, the deep solemn monotone of the
everlasting fall echoed and re-echoed, chanting to the quiet night
a sacred " in sado quies."

Standing with uncovered head in the weird light, Russell's
piercing eyes were fixed on his companion.

" You do not know why I came here, Miss Huntingdon ?"

" You told me why."

"No. But you shall know. I came here overmastered by
some ' Imp of the Perverse/ led by an irresistible desire to sec you
alone, to look at you, to tell you what I have almost sworn should
never pass my lips — what you may consider unmanly weakness—*

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 329

nay, insanity, on my part. We are face to face at last, man and
woman, with the golden bars of conventionality and wordly dis
tinction snapped asunder. I am no longer the man whom society
would fain flatter, in atonement for past injustice ; and I choose
to forget, for the time, that you are the daughter of my bitterest
deadly foe — my persistent persecutor. I remember nothing now
but the crowned days of our childhood, the rosy dawn of my
manhood, where your golden head shone my Morning Star. I
hurl away all barriers, and remember only the one dream of my
life — my deathless, unwavering love for you. Oh, Irene ! Irene I
why have you locked that rigid cold face of yours against
me ? In the hallowed days of old you nestled your dear hands into
mine, and pressed your curls against my cheek, and gave me
comfort in your pure, warm, girlish affection ; how can you snatch
your frozen fingers from mine now, as though my touch were con
tamination ? Be yourself once more — give me one drop from the
old over-flowing fountain. I am a lonely man ; and my proud
bitter heart hungers for one of your gentle words, one of your
sweet, priceless smiles. Irene, look at me 1 Give it to me ?"

He sat down on the step at her feet, and raised his dark mag
netic face, glowing with the love which had so long burned un-
dimmed, his lofty full forehead wearing a strange flush.

She dared not meet his eye, and drooped her head on her palms,
-shrinking from the scorching furnace of trial, whose red jaws
yawned to receive her. He waited a moment, and his low mel
low voice rose to a stormy key.

" Irinc, you are kind and merciful to the poor wretches in
the How. Poverty — nay, crime, does not frighten away your
compassion for them ? why are you hard and cruelly haughty
only to me I"

" You do not need my sympathy, Mr. Aubrey, and congratu
lations on your great success would not come gracefully from my
lips. Most unfortunate obstacles long since rendered all inter,
course between us impossible, still my feeling for you has under
gone no change. I am, I assure you, still your friend."

It cost her a powerful effort to utter these words, and her voice
took a metallic tone utterly foreign to it. Her heart writhed

330 MACARIA ; OR,

bled and moaned in the gripe of her steely purpose, but she en
dured all calmly — relaxing not one jot of her bitter resolution.

"My friend? Mockery ! God defend me from such hence
forth/ Irene, I looked at you to-night in all your wonderful, in
comparable loveliness, as you hung upon the arm of your acknowl
edged lover, and the possibility of your becoming that man's wife
absolutely maddened me. I felt that I could never endure that
horrible reality, and resolved to know the truth. Other lips
deceive, but yours never can. Tell me, have yon promised your
hand to Bainbridge ? Will you ever give it to Ifim ?

" Such questions, Mr. Aubrey, you have no right to propound."
" Right ! does my worshiping love give me no right to re
lieve myself from torture, if possible ? Oil ! relentless, beautiful
idol, that you are ! I have cheated myself with a heavenly dream —
have hugged to my soul the hope that, after all, I was more to
you than you designed to show — that far clown in your proud
heart you, too, cherished memories of other days. Irene, you
loved me once — nay, don't deny it ! You need not blush for the
early folly, which, rt seems, you have interred so deeply ; and
though you scorn to meet me even as an equal, I know, I feel,
that I am worthy of your love — that I comprehend your strange
nature as no one else ever will — that, had such a privilege been
accorded me, I could have kindled your heart, and made you
supremely happy. Cursed barriers have divided us always ; fate
denied me my right. I have suffered many things ; but does it
not argue, at least, in favor of my love, that it has survived all
the trials to which your father's hate has subjected me ? To
night I could forgive him all ! all ! if I knew that he had not so
successfully hardened, closed your heart against me. My soul is
full of bitterness which would move you, if one trait of your girlish
nature remained. But you are not my Irene ! The world's
queen, the dazzling idol of the ball-room, is not my blue-eyed,
angelic Irene of old ! I will intrude upon you no longer. Try at
least not to despise me for my folly ; I will crush it ; and if you
deign to remember me at all in future, think of a man who laughs at
his own idiotcy, and strives to forget that he ever believed there

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 331

lived one woman who would be true to her own heart, even
though the heavens fell and the world passed away !"

He rose partially, but her hand Tell quickly upon his shoulder,
and the bowed face lifted itself, stainless as starry jasmines bathed
in equatorial dews.

" Mr. Aubrey, you are too severe upon yourself, and very un
just to me. The circumstances which conspired to alienate us were
far beyond my control ; I regret them as sincerely as you pos
sibly can, but as unavailably. If I have individually occasioned
you sorrow or disappointment, God knows it was no fault of
mine ! We stand on the opposite shores of a dark, bridgeless
gulf ; but before we turn away to be henceforth strangers, I
stretch out my hand to you in friendly farewell — deeply regretting
the pain which I may have innocently caused you, and asking
your forgiveness. Mr. Aubrey, remember me as I was, not as I
am. Good-by, my friend. May God bless you in coming years,
and crown your life with the happiness you merit is the earnest
prayer of my heart."

The rare blue cord on her brow told how fiercely the lava-
flood surged under its icy bands, and the blanched lip matched
her cheek in colorlessness ; save these tokens of anguish, no other
was visible.

Russell drew down the hand from his shoulder, and folded it
in both his own.

" Irene, are we to walk different paths henceforth — utter
strangers ? Is such your will 1"

*" Such is the necessity, which must be as apparent to you as
to me. Do not doubt my friendship, Mr. Aubrey ; but doubt
the propriety of my parading it before the world."

He bent his check down on her cold hand, then raised it to
his lips once, twice — laid it back on her lap, and taking his hat,
walked away toward town.

Two blithe crickets chirped merrily somewhere in the brick
pavement round the door ; a solitary mocking-bird, perched on
the limb of a neighboring china-tree, warbled his sweet varied
notes as if in answer ; the mellow diapason of the falls rose
soothingly over all, and the blue-robed woman sat still as the stone

332 MACARIA ; OR,

steps of the factory, watching the vanishing dying sparkles of a
crystal draught of joy which fate had rudely dashed at her feet,
sternly denying the parched eager lips.

For some time she remained just as Russell had left her, then
the white arms and dry eyes were raised to the midnight sky.

" My God ! my God ! strengthen me in my desolation 1"

She put back the folds of hair, that, damp with dew, clung
A her gleaming temples, and recrossing the wide road or street,
ntered the chamber of death. Low-spoken words crept to and
fro between Mrs. Martin and two middle-aged, sad-faced women
of the Row, who sat around the candle on the little pine table,
clipping and scolloping a jaconet shroud. As Irene approached
the scissors rested, and all looked up.

" Where is Philip, Mrs. Martin ? I shall ask him to walk
home with me, and not wait for the carriage."

" I expect he is asleep, Miss Irene — but I will wake him."

" You need not ; I think I hear wheels. Yes ; they are com
ing for me. Mrs. Martin, I will see you about Susan and John
nie to-morrow or next day ; meantime, I leave them in your care-
Good-night."

" What a white angel she is ! — almost as pale as the poor
creature on the bed yonder. I catch my breath sometimes when
she looks like she did just now."

All three sighed simultaneously, and the dull click, click, be
gan again.

It was not the carriage which Irene met at the door, but Dr.
Arnold's buggy.

" Irene, are you ready to go home ?" ,

" Yes. Mrs. Davis is dead."

" As I was leaving Mrs. Churchill's, your father told me
where you were, and I thought I would come after you. Put on
your shawl and jump in. You are in a pretty plight, truly, to stand
over a death-bed ! ' Vanity of vanities 1 all is vanity P Here
let me wrap that gauze cloud around your head. Now then ! "

The top of the buggy had been lowered, and as they rodo
homeward she leaned her head back, turning her face to tho
sickly moonlight.

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 333

" Irene, did Aubrey come up here with you ?"

" No, sir. He was at the Row for awhile, however. You
must have met him returning."

" I did ; what did he want here ?"

" You must ask him, if you are curious. It is no business of
either yours or mine to watch his movements."

" I wonder he was able to tear himself from that brown Sybil,
Salome. What a splendid dark pair they will be some day,
when he makes her Mrs. Aubrey I"

Surgeon-like, he was pressing his finger heavily on the wound,
but no flinching could be detected — no moan of pain ; and he was
startled by a singular short, quick laugh, which sounded to his
car like the sudden snapping of a musical string. It was the
first time he had heard her laugh since her return from New
York.

" Sage of Sinope ! how long since your transmigration into a
latter-day news-monger ?"

" News-monger be hanged I It is a transparent fact that
Aubrey intends to marry the daughter of Herodias. Don't you
believe it, Irene ?"

" Doctor, I believe I have dropped my bouquet-holder. I am
sorry to give you so much trouble, bnt uncle Eric bought it for
me in Geneva, and I should dislike to lose it. Give me the
reins. Yonder it is, in the sand — I see its glitter."

Fulminating inaudible plagues on the chased silver toy, the
doctor picked it up and placed it in her hand.

" Drop yourself out next, won't you, when you have another
question to dodge ?"

" What is the matter ? Who has fretted you, sir ? Were
you cheated out of your supper by coming after me ?"

" You fret me beyond all patience — slipping everlastingly
through my fingers. Child, answer me one thing truly ; are you
going to marry Bainbridge, as everybody believes, and as Leon
ard led me to suppose ?"

" No, Dr. Arnold, I shall never marry Mr. Bainbridge."

"If he does not suit your fastidious taste, pray who will,
Queen ?»

334: MACARTA ; OR,

" You might, perhaps, if you were thirty-five .years younger,
and a trifle less surley. Doctor, come in, and let me give you a
glass of wine ; it is very late, and you must be tired."

" No — but I will light my pipe at the hall-lamp."

They went into the house, and as he filled and lighted his pipe
his cavernous eyes ran curiously over her.

" How you have blazed to-night? Your diamonds are
superb."

" Yes, sir."

" Go to sleep at once, child. You look as if you had seen a
ghost. What has knotted up your forehead in that style ?"

" I have looked upon a melancholy death to-night, and have
seen two helpless children orphaned. Come and see me soon ; I
want to consult you about an orphan-asylum for which father
has given me a lot. Good-night, sir ; I am very much obliged
to you for your kindness in bringing me home. Nobody else is
half so considerate and thoughtful."

In her own room she took off the jewels, withered violets, and
moist tulle — and drawing on her dressing-gown, went up to the
observatory, and sat clown on the threshold of one of the gl/iss
doors looking eastward.

" Think of a man who laughs at his own idiotcy, and strides
to forget that he ever believed there lived one woman who wuold
be true to her own heart, though the heavens fell and the world
passed away !"

These words of scorn were the burning shares over which her
bare feet trod, and his bitter accents wailed up and dovrn her
lonely heart, mournful as the ceaseless cry of " El Alma Per-
dida" in moonless, breezeless Amazonian solitudes. Through
the remainder of that cloudless night she wrestled silently — not
like the Jewish patriarch, with angels — but with Despair, grim
as Geryon. At last, when the sky flushed rosily, like an opal smit
ten with light, and holy Resignation — the blessing born only of
great trial like hers — shed its heavenly chrism over the worn and
weary, bruized and bleeding spirit, she gathered up the mangled
hopes that might have gladdened, and gilded, and glorified her
earthly career, and pressing the ruins to her heart, laid herself

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 335

meekly down, offering all upon the God-built altar of Filial
Obedience.
In the

" , early morning, when the air

Was delicate with some last starry touch,"

she opened the door of her father's room and approached the
bed. The noise wakened him, and raising himself on his elbow,
he looked wonderingly at her.

" What is the matter, Irene ? You look as if you had not
closed your eyes."

" Father, you took me in your arms last night, and kissed me
as you have not done before for years ; but I feared that when Mr.
Bainbridge told you what passed between us at Mrs. Church-
hill's, you would again close your heart against me. Do not !
oh, do not ! Because I prefer to remain at home with you rather
than accept his brilliant offer, ought you to love me less ? I have
spent a sorrowful, a wretched night, and, like a weary child, I
come to you to find rest for my heart. Oh, father ! my father !
do not cast me off again ! Whom have I in the world but you ?
By the memory of my sainted mother I ask — I claim your
love !"

" You are a strange girl, Irene ; I never did understand you.
But I don't want to drive you from me, if you prefer to live here
single. There shall be peace between us, my dear daughter."
He leaned forward and laid his hand caressingly on her head, as
she knelt at his bedside, pleading with uplifted arms

".And her face is lily clear,

Lily shaped and dropped in duty
To the law of its own beauty.
And a forehead fair and saintly,
Which two blue eyes undershine,
Like meek prayers before a shrine."

336 MACAEIA ; OK,

CHAPTER XXVIL

THE treacherous four years lull was broken at last by the
mutter of the storm which was so soon to sweep over the nation,
prostrating all interests, and bearing desolation to almost every
hearthstone in our once happy, smiling land of constitutional
freedom. Sleepless watchmen on the tower of Southern Rights
• — faithful guardians, like William L. Yancey, who had stood
for years in advance of public opinion, lifting their warning
voices far above the howling waves of popular faction and party
strife, pointing to the only path of safety — now discerned the
cloud upon the horizon, and at the selection of delegates to the
Charleston Convention hedged our cause with cautious resolu
tions. Among the number appointed was Russell Aubrey ;
and during the tempestuous debates which ushered in the war of
1861, his earnest, eloquent pleadings on the question of a plat
form rang "through his state, touching the master-chord that
thrilled responsive in the great heart of the people. When de-
magogism triumphed in that Convention, and the Democratic
party was rent into hopeless fragments, Russell returned to stump
the state in favor of the only candidate whom he believed the
South could trust with her liberties ; and during the arduous
campaign that ensued, he gathered fresh laurels and won a bril
liant reputation. Aside from individual ambitious projects,
the purest patriotism nerved him to his ceaseless labors. He
was deeply impressed with the vital consequences of the impend
ing election : and as the conviction forced itself upon his mind
that, through the demoralization of the Northern wing of
Democracy, Lincoln would be elected, he endeavored to prepare
the masses for that final separation which he foresaw was in
evitable. During that five months campaign, faction, fanaticism,
demagogism, held high revel — ran riot through the land. Seward
cantered toward Washington on the hobby-labelled Emancipa
tion, dragging Lincoln at his heels ; and Breckinridge, our noble
standard-bearer, with the constitution in his hand, pressed on to

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 337

save the sacred precincts of the capitol from pollution. The
gauntlet had been thrown down by the South at Charleston and
Baltimore : " The election of a sectional president will be the
signal for separation." The North sneered at the threat, de
rided the possibility, and in frantic defiance the die was cast.
The 6th of November dawned upon a vast populous empire, rich
in every resource, capable of the acme of human greatness end
prosperity, claiming to be the guardian of peaceful liberty. It
set upon a nation rent in twain, between whose sections yawned
a bottomless, bridgeless gulf, where the shining pillars of the
temple of Concord had stood for eighty years, and a grating
sound of horror shuddered through the land as the brazen, blood-
clotted doors of Janus flung themselves suddenly wide apart.
Lincoln was elected. Abolitionism, so long adroitly cloaked,
was triumphantly clad in robes of state — shameless now, and
hideous, and while the North looked upon the loathsome face of
its political Mokanna, the South prepared for resistance.

No surer indication of the purpose of the Southern people
could have been furnished, than the temper in which the news
was received, i No noisy outbursts, expending resolve in empty
words — no surface excitement — but a stern calm gloom, set lips,
heavy bent brows, appropriate in men who realized that they
had a revolution on their hands ; not indignation meetings, with
fruitless resolutions — that they stood as body-guard for tlie
liberty of the Republic, and would preserve the trust at all
hazards. It would seem that, for a time at least, party animosi
ties would have been crushed ; but, like the Eumenides of
Orestes, they merely slept for a moment, starting up wolfish and
implacable as ever ; and even here, in many instances, the old
acrimony of feeling showed itself. Bitter differences sprang up
at the very threshold on the modus operandi of Southern release
from Yankee-Egyptic bondage. Separate "state action" or
" co-operation" divided the people, many of whom were earnestly
impressed by the necessity and expediency of deliberate, con
certed, simultaneous action on the -part of all the Southern states,
while others vehemently advocated this latter course solely be
cause the former plan was advanced and supported by their old

15

338 MACAEIA ; OR,

opponents. In this new issue, as if fate persistently fanned the
flame of hate between Mr. Huntingdon and Russell Aubrey,
they were again opposed as candidates for the State Convention.
Ah ! will the ghost of Faction ever be laid in this our republi
can land ? Shall this insatiate immemorial political Fenris for
ever prey upon the people ?

W was once more convulsed, and strenuous efforts

were made by both sides. Russell was indefatigable in his
labors for prompt, immediate state action, proclaiming his belief
that co-operation was impracticable before secession ; and it was
now that his researches in the dusty regions of statistics came
admirably into play, as he built up his arguments on solid founda
tions of indisputable calculation.

For the first time in her life Irene openly confronted her father's
wrath on political grounds. She realized the imminence of the
danger, dreaded the siren song of co-operation, and dauntlessly
discussed the matter without hesitation. The contest was close
and heated, and resulted somewhat singularly in the election of
a mixed ticket — two Secessionists being' returned, and one Co-
operationist, Mr. Huntingdon, owing to personal popularity.

While the entire South was girding for the contest, South
Carolina, ever the avant courier in the march of freedom,
seceded ; and if doubt had existed before, it vanished now from
every mind — for all felt that the gallant state must be sustained.
Soon after, Russell and Mr. Huntingdon stood face to face on
the floor of their own state convention, and wrestled desperately.
The latter headed the opposition, and so contumacious did it
prove that for some days, the fate of the state lay in dangerous
equilibrium. Finally, the vigilance of the Secessionists prevailed,
and, late in the afternoon of a winter day, the ordinance was signed.

Electricity flashed the decree to every portion of the state,
and the thunder of artillery and blaze of countless illuminations
told that the people gratefully and joyfully accepted the verdict.

W — was vociferous ; and as Irene gazed from the colonade

on the distant but brilliant rows of lights flaming along the
streets, she regretted that respect for her father's feelings kept
the windows of her own home dark and cheerless.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 339

Revolution is no laggard, but swift winged as Hermes ; and
in quick succession seven sovereign states, in virtue of the inherent
rights of a people acknowledging allegiance only to the funda
mental doctrine that all just governments rest on the consent of
the governed, organized a provisional government, sprang, Pallas-
like, upon the political arena, and claimed an important role in
the grand drama of the nineteenth century. It is not to be
expected that a man of Mr. Huntingdon's known acerbity of
temper would yield gracefully to a defeat/ against which he had
struggled so earnestly, and he submitted with characteristic
sullenness.

Great contrariety of opinion prevailed concerning the course
of the Federal government — many deluding themselves with the
belief that the separation would be peaceful. But Ilussell had
stated his conviction at the time of Lincoln's election, that no
bloodless revolution of equal magnitude had yet been effected,
and that we must prepare to pay the invariable sacrificial dues
which liberty inexorably demands.

So firm was this belief, that he applied himself to the study of
military tactics, in anticipation of entering the army ; and many
a midnight found him bending over Hardee, Mahan, Gilham,
Jomini, and Army Regulations.

The 12th and 13th of April were days of unexampled excite
ment throughout the Southern states. The discharge of the
first gun from Fort Moultrie crushed the last lingering vestiges
of " Unionism," and welded the entire Confederacy in one huge
homogeneous mass of stubborn resistance to despotism. With the
explosion of the first shell aimed by General Beauregard against
Fort Sumter burst the frail painted bubble of " Reconstruction,"
which had danced alluringly upon the dark, surging billows of

revolution. W was almost wild with anxiety ; and in

the afternoon of the second day of the bombardment, as Irene
watched the avenue, she saw her father driving rapidly home
ward. Descending the steps, she met him at the buggy.

" Beauregard has taken Sumter. Anderson surrendered
unconditionally. No lives lost."

" Thank God i"

340 MACARIA; OR,

They sat down on the steps, and a moment after the roar of
guns shook the atmosphere, and cheer after cheer went up the
evening sky.

" Act 1, of a long and bloody civil war/7 said Mr. Huntingdon
gravely.

" Perhaps so, father ; but it was forced upon us. We left no
honorable means untried to prevent it, and now it must be accept
ed as the least of two evils. Political bondage — worse than
Russian serfdom — or armed resistance ; no other alternative,
turn it which way you will ; and the Southern people are not of
stuff to deliberate as to choice in such an issue. God is witness
that we have earnestly endeavored to avert hostilities — that the
blood of this war rests upon the government at Washington :
our hands are stainless."

" I believe you are right, and to-day I have come to a deter
mination which will doubtless surprise you."

He paused, and eyed her a moment.

" No, father ; I am not surprised that you have determined
to do your duty."

" How, Irene ? What do you suppose that it is ?"

" To use Nelson's words, the Confederacy ' expects that every
man will do his duty f and you are going into the army."

" Who told you that ?"

" My own heart, father ; which tells me what I should do were
I in your place."

" Well, I have written to Montgomery, to Clapham, to ten
der my services. We were at West Point together ; I served
under him at Contreras and Chapultepec, and he will no doubt
press matters through promptly. The fact is, I could not possi
bly stay at home now. My blood has been at boiling heat since
yesterday morning, when I read Beauregard's first despatch."

" Did you specify any branch of the service ?"

" Yes ; told him I preferred artillery. What is the matter ?
Your lips are as white as cotton. Courage failing you already,
at thought of grape, shell, and canister ?"

A long shiver crept over her, and she shielded her face with

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 341

her hands. When she met his eagle eye again her voice was un
steady.

" Oh, father ! if I were only a man, that I might go with you
— stand by you under all circumstances. Could n't you take me
anyhow ? Surely a daughter may follow her father, even on the
battlefield?"

He laughed lightly, and swept his fingers over her head.

" Could n't you learn a little common-sense, if you were to try ?
Do you suppose I want all this gold braid of yours streaming in
my face while I am getting my guns in position ? A pretty fig
ure you would cut in the midst of my battery I Really, though,
Irene, I do not believe that you would flinch before all the can
non of Borodino. My blood beats at your heart, and it has never
yet shown a cowardly drop. If you were a boy, I swear you
would not disgrace my name in any conflict. By the way, what
shall I do with you ? It won't do to leave you here all alone."

" Why not, father ? Home is certainly the proper place for
me, if you can not take me with you."

" What ! with nobody but the servants ?"

" They will take better care of me than anybody else. Xellie,
and Andrew, and John are the only guardians I want in your
absence. They have watched over me all my life, and they will
do it to the end. Give yourself no trouble, sir, on my account."

" I suppose your uncle Eric will be home before long ; he can
stay here till I come back — or — till the troubles are over. In the
meantime, you could be with the Harrises, or Hendersons, or
Mrs. Churchhill."

" No, sir ; I can stay here, which is infinitely preferable on
many accounts. I will, with your permission, invite Mrs. Camp
bell to shut up the parsonage in her husband's absence, and re
main with me till uncle Eric returns. I have no doubt that she
will be glad to make the change. Do you approve the plan ?"

"Yes. That arrangement will answer for the present, and
Arnold will be here to take care of you."

At the close of a week a telegraphic despatch was received,
informing Mr. Huntingdon of his appointment as major in the

3 42 MACAKIA ; OR,

provisional army of the Confederacy, and containing an order to
report immediately for duty.

Some days of delay were consumed in necessary preparations
for an indefinite absence. Sundry papers were drawn up by
Judge Harris — an old will was destroyed, a new one made —
and explicit directions were reiterated to the overseer at the
plantation. More reticent than ever, Irene busied herself in de
vising and arranging various little comforts for her father, when
he should be debarred from the luxuries of home. No traces of
tears were ever visible on her grave, composed face ; but several
times, on coming suddenly into the room, he found that her work
had fallen into her lap, and that her head was bowed down on
her arms. Once he distinguished low pleading words of prayer.
She loved him with a devotion very rarely found between father
and child, and this separation cost her hours of silent agony,
which even her father could not fully appreciate.

Having completed his arrangements, and ordered the carriage
to be in readiness at daylight next morning to convey him to the
depot, he bade her good-night much as usual, and retired to his
own room.

But thought was too busy to admit of sleep. He turned rest
lessly on his pillow, rose, and smoked a second cigar, and returti-
ed, to find himself more wakeful than ever. The clock -down
stairs in the library struck one ; his door opened softly, and, by
the dim moonlight struggling through the window, he saw Irene
glide to his bedside.

" Why don't you go to sleep, Irene ?"

" Because I can't. I am too miserable."

Her voice was dry, but broken, faltering.

" I never knew you to be nervous before ; I thought you
scorned nerves ? Here, my daughter — take this pillow, and lie
down by me."

She put her arm about his neck, drawing his face close to her?,
and he felt her lips quiver as they touched his cheek.

" Father, when you know exactly where you are to be station
ed, won't you let me come and stay somewhere in the vicinity,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 343

where I can be with you if you should be wounded ? Do prom
ise me this ; it will be the only comfort I can have."

" The neighborhood of an army would not be a pleasant place
for you ; beside, you could do me no good even if I were hurt.
I shall have a surgeon to attend to all such work much better
than your inexperienced hands could possibly do it. I am sur
prised at you, Irene ; upon my word, I am. I thought you
wanted me to go into service promptly ?"

" So I do, father: I think that every man in the Confederacy
who can leave his family should be in our army ; but a stern
sense of duty does not prevent people from suffering at separa
tion and thought of danger. I should be unworthy of my coun
try if I were selfish enough to want to keep you from its de
fence ; and yet I were unworthy of my father if I could see you
leave home, under such circumstances, without great grief. Oh I
if I could only go with you ! But to have to stay here, useless
and inactive !"

" Yes — it is bad to be obliged to leave you behind, but it can't
be helped. I should feel much better satisfied if you were mar
ried, and haa somebody to take care of you in case anything
happens to me. It is your own fault that you are not ; I never
could understand what possessed you to discard Bainbridge.
Still, that is past, and I suppose irreparable, and now you must
abide by your own choice."

"I am satisfied with my choice ; have no regrets on any score,
save that of your departure. But, father, the future is dark and
uncertain ; and I feel that I want an assurance of your entire
reconciliation and affection before you go. I came here to say
to you that I deeply regret all the unfortunate circumstances of
my life which caused you to treat me so coldly for a season —
that if in anything I have ever seemed obstinate or undutiful, it
was not because I failed in love for you, but from an unhappy
difference of opinion as to my duty under very trying circum
stances. Father, my heart ached very bitterly under your
estrangement — the very memory is unutterably painful. I want
your full, free forgiveness now, for all the trouble I have ever oc
casioned you. Oh, father ! give it to me 1"

34:4: MACARIA ; OR,

He drew her close to him, and kissed her twice.

" You have my forgiveness, my daughter — though I must tell you
that your treatment of poor Hugh has been a continual source of
sorrow and keen disappointment to me. I never can forget your
disobedience in that matter. I do not believe you will ever be
happy, you have such a strange disposition ; but since you took
matters so completely in your own hands, you have only yourself
to reproach. Irene, I very often wonder whether you have any
heart — for it seems to me that if you have, it would have been
won by the devotion which has been lavished on you more than
once. You are the only woman I ever knew who appeared ut
terly incapable of love ; and I sometimes wonder what will become
of you when I am dead."

" God will protect me. I look continually to his guardianship.
Father, do not be offended if I beg you most earnestly to give
some thought to Him who has blessed you so abundantly in the
privileges of this world, and to prepare for that future into which
you may be ushered, at any moment, from the battle-field. You
have never allowed me to speak to you on this subject ; but oh,
my dear father ! it is too solemn a question to be put aside any
longer. If you would only pray for yourself, my mind would be
eased of such a weight of anxiety and apprehension. Oh I that
the spirit of my mother may join in my prayers before the Throne
in your behalf."

He unclasped her arm and turned his face away, saying coldly :

" Do you consider it your privilege to tell me that I am so
wicked there is no hope for me in the next world, if there be
one ?"

" No ! no 1 father ! but it is enjoined, as the duty of even the
purest and holiest, to acknowledge their dependence upon God,
and to supplicate his mercy and direction. It is true, I pray con
stantly for you, but that is a duty which our Maker requires
every individual to perform for himself. Do not be displeased,
father ; if it were anything less than your eternal happiness, I
should not presume to question your conduct. I can only hope
and trust that your life will be spared, and that some day you
will without offence, suffer me to talk to you of what deeply con-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 345

cerns my peace of mind. I won't keep you awake any longer, as
you have a tedious journey before you. Good-night, my dear
father."

She kissed him tenderly and left him, closing the door softly
behind her.

A spectral crescent moon flickered in the sky, and stars still
burned in the violet East, when the carriage drove to the door,
and Irene followed her father to the steps.

Even in that dim, uncertain grey light he could see that her
face was rigid and haggard, and tears filled his cold, brilliant eyes
as he folded her to his heart.

" Good-by, Beauty. Cheer up, my brave child ! and look on
the bright side. Alter all, I may come back a brigadier-general,
and make you one of my staff-officers 1 You shall be my adjutant,
and light up my office with your golden head. Take care of
yourself till Eric comes, and write to me often. Good-by, my
dear, my darling daughter."

She trembled convulsively, pressing her lips repeatedly to his.

" Oh, may God bless you, my father, and bring you safely back
to me !"

He unwound her arms, put her gently aside, and stepped into
the carriage.

William, the cook, who was to accompany him, stood sobbing
near the door, and now advancing, grasped her hand.

" Good-by, Miss Irene. May the Lord protect you all till we
come back."

" William, I look to you to take care of father, and let me
know at once if anything happens."

" I will, Miss Irene. I promise you I will take good care of
master, and telegraph you if he is hurt."

He wrung her hand, the carriage rolled rapidly away, and the
sorrow-stricken, tearless woman sat down on the steps and
dropped her head in her hands. Old Nellie drew near, wiping
her eyes, and essaying comfort.

" Don't fret so, child. When trouble comes it will be time
enough to grieve over it. Master was in the Mexican war, and
never had a scratch ; and maybe he will be as lucky this time.

15*

346 MACARIA ; OR,

Don't harden your face in that flinty way. You never would
cry like other children, but just set yourself straight up, for al
the world like one of the stone figures standing over your
grandfather's grave. Try to come and take a nap ; I know you
have n't shut your eyes this night."

" No — I can't sleep. Go in, Nellie, and leave rne to myself."

The shrill scream of the locomotive rang through the still, dewy
air, and between two neighboring hills the long train of cars
dashed on, leaving a fiery track of sparks as it disappeared around
a curve. Oppressed with a horrible dread, against which she
struggled in vain, Irene remained alone, and was only aroused
from her painful reverie by the low musical cooing of the pigeons,
already astir. As they fluttered and nestled about, she extended
her arms, and catching two of the gentlest to her heart, murmured,
mournfully :

" Come, messengers of peace I bring me resignation. Teach
me patience and faith."

The empty carriage came slowly up the avenue, as if returning
from a funeral, and passed to the stable-yard ; birds chirped,
twittered, sang in the wavering, glistening tree-tops ; the sun
flashed up in conquering splendor, and the glory of the spring day
broke upon the world.

" ' To-day thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou would'st : presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' "

CHAPTER XXYIII.

To those who reside at the convulsed throbbing heart of a
great revolution, a lifetime seems compressed into the compass of
days and weeks, and men and women are conscious of growing
prematurely old while watching the rushing, thundering tramp of
events, portentous with the fate of nations. W presented

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 347

the appearance of a military camp, rather than the peaceful manu
facturing town of yore. Every vacant lot was converted into
a parade-ground — and the dash of cavalry, the low, sullen rumbling
of artillery, and the slow, steady tread of infantry, echoed through
its wide, handsome streets. Flag-staffs were erected from public
buildings, private residences, and at the most frequent corners,
and from these floated banners of all sizes, tossing proudly to the
balmy breeze the new-born ensign of freedom — around which
clustered the hopes of a people who felt that upon them, and them
only, now devolved the sacred duty of proving to the world the
capacity of a nation for self government. In view of the ini
quitous and impossible task which it had insanely set itself to ac
complish, the government at Washington had swept aside all
constitutional forms, in order to free its hands for the work of
blood — had ultimated in complete despotism. The press was
thoroughly muzzled — freedom of speech was erased from the
list of American privileges ; the crowded cells of Bastile Lafay
ette, McHenry, and Warren wdled out to the civilized world
that habeas corpus was no more ; and, terror-stricken at the
hideous figure of Absolutism carved by the cunning fingers of
Lincoln and Seward, and set up for worship at Washington, Lib
erty fled from her polluted fane, and sought shelter and shrine on
the banner of the Confederacy, in the dauntless, devoted hearts
of its unconquerable patriots. Proudly and fondly was the divinity
guarded. Smiling flowery valleys rang with poeans that rose high
above the din of deadly strife — and rugged, lonely hills and pur
ple mountains lifted themselves to the God of battle, like huge
smoking altars red with the noble blood of slaughtered heroes.
Loathing and detestation succeeded the old affection for the
Federal government, and the "Union" became everywhere the
synonyme of political duplicity, despotism, and the utter ab
rogation of all that had once constituted American freedom, and
rendered the republic, in earlier years, the civil Pharos of Chris
tendom. The Confederacy realized that the hour had arrived
when the historic Sphinx must find an GSdiphus, or Democratic
Republican Liberty would be devoured, swept away, with the
debris of other dead systems. Lifting- their eyes to God for

348 MACARIA ; OR,

blessing, the men of the South girded on their swords and resolved,
calmly and solemnly, to prove that CEdipus — to read, and for ever
set at rest the haunting, vexing riddle. Another adjective then
" Spartan" must fleck with glory the pages of future historians,
for all the stern resolution and self-abnegation of Rome and Lace-
daemon had entered the souls of Southern women. Mothers
closed their lips firmly to repress a wail of sorrow as they buckled
on the swords of their first-born, and sent them forth with a
" God-speed !" to battle for the right ; fond wives silently packed
their husbands' knapsacks, with hands that knew no faltering ;
and sisters with tearless eyes, bent by the light of midnight
lamps over canteens which their thoughtful care covered for
brothers who were to start to the scene of action on the morrow.
A nation of laboring, nimble-fingered, prayerful-hearted, brave-
spirited women, and chivalric, high-souled, heroic men, who had
never learned that Americans could live and not be free. Grant
us our reward, oh God ! the independence of the land we hold
so dear.

W gave her young men liberally ; company after com
pany was equipped, furnished with ample funds by the munifi
cence of citizens who remained, and sent forward to Virginia, to
make their breasts a shield for the proud old " Mother of Presi
dents." The battle of Bethel was regarded as part of an over
ture to the opera of Blood, 'yclept " Subjugation," and people
watched in silence for the crimson curtain to rise on the banks of
the Potomac. Russell Aubrey had succeeded in raising a fine
full company for the war, as contra-distinguished from twelve
months volunteers ; and to properly drill and discipline it, he
bent all the energy of his character. It was made the nucleus
of a new regiment, recruits gathered rapidly, and when the regi
ment organized, preparatory to starting for Virginia, he was
elected colonel, with Herbert Blackwell for lieutenant-colonel,
and Charles Harris was appointed adjutant. They were tempo
rarily encamped on the common between the railroad depot and
Mr. Huntingdon's residence, and from the observatory or colon
nade Irene could look down on the gleaming tents and the flag
staff that stood before' the officers' quarters. Reveille startled

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 349*

her at dawn, and tattoo regularly warned her of the shortness of
summer nights. As the fiery carriage-horses would not brook
the sight of the encampment, she discarded them for a time, and
when compelled to leave home rode Erebus at no slight risk of
her life — for he evinced the greatest repugnance to the sound of
drum or fife.

One afternoon she went over to the Row, and thence to the
factory. A new company had been named in honor of her fa
ther ; uniforms and haversacks were to be furnished, and Mr.
Huntingdon had intrusted her with the commission. Selecting
the cloth and accomplishing her errand, she returned by way
of the orphan-asylum, whose brick walls were rapidly rising un
der her supervision. One of the workmen took her horse, and
she went over the building, talking to the principal mechanic
about some additional closets which she desired to have inserted.
Dr. Arnold chanced to be passing, but saw Erebus at the
gate, stopped, and came in.

" I was just going up the Hill to see you, Queen — glad I am
saved the trouble. Here, sit down a minute ; I will clear the
shavings away. When did you hear, from Leonard ?"

" I had a letter yesterday. He was well, and on outpost duty
near Manassas."

" Well, I shall join him very soon."

" Sir ?"

" I say I shall join him very soon ; don't you believe it ?
Why should n't I serve my country as well as younger men ?
The fact is, I am going as surgeon of Aubrey's regiment. It
would never do to have the handsome young colonel maimed for
life, through the awkwardness of a new-fledged M. D. Miss Sa
lome would spoil her superb eyes with crying — which catastrophe
would, doubtless, distress him more than the loss of a limb —
eh, Irene ?" •

She looked at him, betraying neither surprise nor regret.

" When will you leave W ?"

" Day after to-morrow morning ; can't get transportation any
sooner. Aubrey has received orders to report at once to Gene
ral Beauregard. Child, have you been sick ?"

350 MAC ARIA ; OR,

" No, sir. I am glad you are going with the regiment ; very
glad. Every good surgeon in the Confederacy should hasten to
the front line of our armies. Since you leave home, I am par
ticularly glad that you are going to Manassas, where you can be
near father."

" Humph ! Do you suppose that I am a patent life-preserver
against minie balls and grape-shot ?"

" I know you wjll do all that skill and affection can suggest,
and I shall feel much better satisfied."

He mused a moment, watching her furtively.

" I suppose you have heard of the performance for to-mor
row ?"

" No, sir. To what do you allude ?"

" The daughter of Herodias is preparing to dance."

" I don't understand you, Doctor."

" Oh, don't you, indeed ? Well, then, she intends to present
a splendid regimental flag with her own brown hands ; and as
Aubrey is to receive it, the regiment will march to Mrs. Church-
hill's, where the speeches will be delivered. Will you attend ?"

" Scarcely, I presume, as I am not invited. I knew that Sa
lome was having an elegant flag made, but was not aware that
to-morrow was appointed for the ceremony of presentation."

" Who will look after you when I am gone ? You are the
only tie I have here. I can't bear to leave you."

" I dare say I shall get on very well ; and, beside, you, of
course, must go and do your duty, no matter what happens."

"But you will be so lonely arid isolated till Eric comes."

She smiled suddenly, strangely, yet with no tinge of bitter
ness.

" That is nothing new. I have been solitary all my life."

" And it is your own fault. You might have married like
other people, and been happier."

" You are mistaken in assuming that I am not happy in my
home."

" Hush, Irene ! hush ! I know the signs of true happiness, if
I don't possess it myself. You never murmur ; oh, no ! — you
are too proud ! You don't droop like some poor, weak, sickly

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 351

souls ; oh, no ! — you arc too stately and regal. You will live
and die a model of reticent chill propriety ; and when you are
in your shroud your placid, treacherous face will bear no witness
that you were cheated out of your rights in this world."

Again she smiled, and laid her hand on his.

" What a pity you mistook your forte in early life ; with such
a fertile imagination, not physic, but fiction, was your calling-.
When will you come to see me ? I want you to take a parcel
to father for me ; and then I want to have a long talk."

"I know what the long talk amounts to. You need not hold
out any such rosy-cheeked apples of Sodom as a bait. I am
coming, of course, after the flag ceremonies, where I am expect
ed. At one o'clock I will be at the Hill — perhaps earlier.
Where now ?"

" I must go by Mrs. Baker's, to see about giving out some sew
ing for the ' Huntingdon Rifles.' I can't do it all at home, and sev
eral families here require work. I shall expect you at one o'clock
— shall have lunch ready for you. By the way, Doctor, isthere
anything I can do for you in the sewing Hue ? It would give me
genuine pleasure to make something for you, if you will only tell
me what you need. Think over your wants."

She had caught up her reins, but paused, looking at him. He
averted his head quickly.

" I will tell you to-morrow. Good-evening."

Turning from the town, she took a narrow sandy road leading
among low, irregular hills, and after passing a thicket of sweet-
gum, bay, and poplar, that bordered a clear, brawling, rocky-bo
somed stream which ran across the road, she rode up to a three-
roomed log-house. Two small children, with anomalous bluish-
white hair, were playing marbles in the passage, and a boy, ap
parently ten years of age, was seated on the ground, whist
ling " Dixie," and making split baskets, such as are generally
used on plantations for picking cotton. He threw down his
work and ran to open the gate, which was tied with a piece of
rope.

" How do you do, Hanson ? Is your mother at home ?"

"Yes, rna'm"

352 MACARIA ; OR,

She gave him her bridle and entered the house, in one of the
rooms of which she found a tall, muscular, powerful-looking wo
man kneeling on the floor, and engaged in cutting out work
from a roll of striped cloth. Putting her grayish hair behind
her ears, she paused, looked -up, and, with scissors in hand, said,
bluntly :

" Be seated, Miss Irene. I have n't time, or I would get up.
Lucinda, bring some water fresh from the spring, and if your
grandmother is awake, tell her Miss Irene is here."

"I see you have not finished your contract, Mrs. Baker."

" Yery nearly, ma'm. I will finish off and send in the last lot
of these haversacks by tweve o'clock to-morrow. The captain was
out to-day to hurry me up ; said the regiment had orders to
leave day after to-morrow. I gave him my word he should have
them by noon, and that is something I never break."

" Have you heard from your husband since I saw you ?"

Again the busy scissors paused.

" Not a word. But my boy, Robert, has had a terrible spell
of fever in Lynchburg. I received a few lines from the doctor
of the hospital yesterday. Thank God ! he was better when the
letter was written. His father knows nothing of it. I can't
find out exactly where Mr. Baker's company is. They are do
ing good service, I hope, somewhere — making their mark on the
Union wretches in the Virginia valley. I want to hear that my
husband had a hand in burning Wheeling."

" I believe you told me that you were from Virginia. "

" Yes, ma'm ; but not from that part of it, I want you to
understand. I was born in Amelia, thank my stars ! and that
is as true as steel."

" It must be a great trial to you to have your husband and
son so far off, and yet separated."

" Of course I hate to have them away, and times are hard for
such a family as mine, with little means of support ; but I don't
grieve. Every man has to do his duty now, and every woman,
too. I told Stephen I thought I could take care of the children
and myself — that I would rather live on acorns, than that lie
should not serve his country when it needed him ; and I told

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 353

Ilobert, when I fixed him off, that I never would die contented
if he and his father did not both do something to distinguish
themselves in this war. I am a poor woman, Miss Irene, but
no soul loves the Confederacy better than I do, or will work
harder for it. I have no money to lend our government, but I
give my husband and my child — and two better soldiers no state
can show."

" You have done your part nobly and I trust both your
dear ones will be spared, and brought safely back to you. How
is your mother to-day ?"

•" Very feeble. I was up nearly all night with her. She had
one of her bad spells. Have some water ; it is sweet and cold."

" Do you want any more work this week ?"

" Yes, ma'm ; I should like some after to-morrow. Do you
know where I can get any ?"

" I can give you seventy-five flannel overshirts, and the same
number of haversacks ; but you could scarcely finish them all in
time, and I thought I would send you the shirts, and let Mrs.
Pritchard take the haversacks."

"I shall be very 'glad to get them. You are not raising a
company yourself, Miss Irene ?"

" Oh, no ! but there is a new company named ' Huntingdon
Rifles' for ray father, and he wishes to give them everything
they need. When can you come- in to see me about cutting out
the shirts ?»

" Day after to-morrow morning, quite early, if it will suit
you."

" That will suit me very well. Here is that remedy for asthma,
which I mentioned to you once before. If you will try it faith
fully, I have no doubt it will at least relieve your mother of
much suffering. If you can't find the ingredients here, let me know,
and I can get them from the plantation."

As the kneeling figure received the slip of paper she rose, and
tears gathered in the large clear gray eyes.

" Thank you, Miss Irene ; it is very good of you to remember
my poor old mother so constantly. I am afraid nothing will
ever do her much good ; but I am grateful to you, and will try

354:

your remedy faithfully. I want to thank you, too, for the good
you have done Hanson ; I never saw a boy so changed. He is
up by daylight Sunday mornings, getting all things in trim, so
that he can be off to Sabbath-school. I have always tried to
teach my children to be honest and upright, but I am afraid I
did not do my duty fully ; I am afraid they were neglected in
some respects, till you began with them in Sabbath-school."

" Your children all learn very readily, but Hanson is particu
larly bright. I am very glad to have him in my class ; he is
one of my best pupils."

As she went homeward a shadow fell upon her face — a shadow
darker than that cast by the black plume in her riding-hat — and
once or twice her lips writhed from their ordinary curves of
beauty. Nearing the encampment she lowered her veil, but saw
that dress parade had been dismissed, and as she shook the reins
and Erebus quickened his gallop, she found herself face to face
with the colonel, who had just mounted his horse and was riding
toward town. She looked at him and bowed ; but, in passing,
he kept his eyes fixed on the road before him, and in the duski
ness his face seemed colder and more inflexible than ever. Such
had been the manner of their occasional meetings since the inter
view at the factory, and she was not surprised that this, her first
greeting, was disregarded. The public believed, that an engage
ment existed between him and Salome, and the attentions heaped
upon him by the family of the latter certainly gave color to the
report. But Irene was not deceived ; she had learned to under
stand his nature, and knew that his bitterness of feeling and
studied avoidance of herself betokened that the old affection had
not been crushed. Struggling with the dictates of her heart,
and a sense of the respect due to her father's feelings, she passed
a sleepless night in pacing the gallery of the observatory. It
was a vigil of almost intolerabfe perplexity and anguish. Under
all its painful aspects she patiently weighed the matter, and at
sunrise next morning, throwing open the blinds of her room, she
drew her rose-wood desk to the window, and wrote these words :
" COL. AUBREY : ,

" Before you leave W allow me to see you for a few

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 355

moments. If your departure is positively fixed for to-morrow,
come to me this afternoon, at any hour which may be most
convenient.

"Respectfully,

"IRENE HUNTINGDON.

" Huntingdon Hill, June, 1861."

As the regiment prepared to march to Mrs. Churchhill's resi
dence, the note was received from Andrew's hands. Returning
his sword to its scabbard, the colonel read the paper twice, three
times — a heavy frown gathered on his forehead, his swarthy
cheek fired, and, thrusting the note into his pocket, he turned to
ward his regiment, saying hastily to the servant :

" You need not wait. No answer is expected."

At the breakfast-table Irene opened a hasty missive from Sa
lome, inviting her to be present at the presentation of the flag,
and begging a few choice flowers for the occasion. Smiling
quietly, she filled the accompanying basket with some of the
rarest treasures of the green-house, added a bowl of raspberries
which the gardener had just brought in, and sent all, with a brief
line excusing herself from attending.

The morning was spent in writing to her father, preparing a
parcel for him, and in superintending the making of a large quan
tity of blackberry jelly and cordial for the use of the hospitals.

About noon Dr. Arnold came, and found her engaged in seal
ing up a number of the jars, all neatly labelled. The day was
warm ; she had pushed back her hair from her brow, as she bent
over her work ; the full sleeves were pinned up above the elbow,
and she wore a white check-muslin apron to protect her dress
from the resin and beeswax.

" In the name of Medea and her Colchian caldron ! what are
you about, Irene V"

" Fixing a box of hospital stores for you to take with you."

" Fixing ! you Yankee ! crucify that word ! I detest it. Say
arranging, getting up, putting in order, aggregating, conglomer
ating, or what you will, but save my ears from ' fixing !' How
do I know that all that trash was n't boiled in a brass kettle, and
is not rank poison ?"

356 MACARIA ; OK,

" Because I always use a porcelain kettle, sir. Here is a
glass ; try some of my ' trash.' I am determined to receive you
' cordially.' "

" Take my advice, Queen, and never attempt another pun so
long as life and reason are spared to you. It is an execrable,
heathenish, uncivil practice, which should be tabooed in all well
regulated respectable families. As a class, your punsters are a
desperate, vinegar-souled set. Old Samuel Johnson treated the
world to a remarkably correct estimate of the whole sorry tribe.
Just a half-glass more. You have spilled a drop on your im
maculate apron. Well, your pun and your cordial are about on
a par ; not exactly either — for one has too much spice, and the
other none at all."

" Well, then, Fadladeen, I will reconsider, and Rend the box
to a Richmond hospital."

" No ; give it to me. The poor fellows who are to use it
may not be so fastidious. How much longer do you intend to
sit here ? I did not come to make my visit to the pantry."

" I have finished, sir. Let me wash my hands, and I will
give you some lunch in the dining-room."

" No ; I lunched with the Israelites. Salome was brilliant as
a Brazilian fire-fly, and presented her banner quite gracefully.
Aubrey looked splendidly in his uniform ; was superbly happy in
his speech — always is. Madam did the honors inimitably, and,
in fine — give me that fan on the table — everything was decided
ly comme ilfaut. You were expected, and you ought to have
gone ; it looked spiteful to stay away. I should absolutely like
to see you subjected to 212° Fahrenheit, in order to mark the
result. Here I am almost suffocating with the heat, which
would be respectable in Soudan, and you sit there bolt upright,
looking as cool as a west wind in March. Beauty, you should
get yourself patented as a social refrigerator, ' Warranted proof
against the dog-days.' What rigmarole do you want me to re
peat to Leonard ?•"

" I have sent a parcel and a letter to your buggy. Please
hand them to father, and tell him that I am well."

" And what is to become of my conscience in the meantime ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 357

" Doctor, I might answer in the words of Raphael to the Pre
fect of Alexandria : ' What will become of it in any case, my
most excellent lord ?;"

" Humph, child I I am not such a reprobate, after all. But
I am thankful I am not as some pharisees I know."

She looked up in his harsh face to read its meaning. He lean
ed forward, seized her hands, and said, hurriedly :

" Don't look so much like one of your own pigeons might, if
you had coaxed it to come to you, and then slapped it off. When
I say bitter things, you may be sure you are the last person in
my thoughts. Straighten that bent lip ; I did not allude to
you, my starry priestess. I meant all that noisy crew down
town, who — ."

" Let them rest ; neither you nor I have any interest in them.
I wish, if you please, when you get to Manassa, that you would
persuade father to allow me to come, at least, as far as Rich
mond. You have some influence with him ; will you use it in
my favor ?"

"You are better off at home ; you could possibly do no
good." «

" Still I want to go. Remember, my father is all I have in
this world."

" And what have you elsewhere, Irene ?"

" My mother, my Saviour, and my God."

" Are you, then, so very anxious to go to Virginia ?" he re
peated after a pause.

" I am. I want to be near father."

" Well, I will see what I can do with him. If I fail, recol
lect that he is not proverbial for pliability. Look here — are
you nervous ? Your fingers twitch, and so do your eyelids oc
casionally, and your pulse is twenty beats too quick."

" I believe I am rather nervous to-day."

"Why so?"

" I did not sleep last night ; that is one cause, I suppose."

" And the reason why you did not sleep ? Be honest with
me."

358 MAC ART A ; OK,

" My thoughts, sir, were very painful. Do you wonder at it,
in the present state of the country ?"

" Irene, answer me one question, dear child : what does the
future contain for you ? What hope have you ? — what do you
live for ?"

" I have much to be grateful for — much that makes me happy;
and I hope to do some good in the world while I live. I want
to be useful — to feel that I have gladdened some hearts,
strengthened some desponding spirits, carried balm to some
hearth-stones, shed some happiness on the paths of those who
walk near me through life. There are seasons when I regret my
incapacity to accomplish more ; but at such times, when dis
posed to lament the limited sphere of woman's influence, I am
reminded of Pascal's grand definition : ' A sphere of which the
centre is everywhere, the circumference nowhere ;' and I feel
encouraged to hope that, after all, woman's circle of action will
prove as sublime and extended. Doctor, remember :

*" . . No stream from its source
Flows seaward, how lonely soever its course,
But what some land is gladdened. No star ever rose
And set without influence somewhere. Who knows >
What earth needs from earth's lowest creature ? No life
Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife,
And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.' "

" But who pointed your aims, and taught you these theories ?"
" 'The emptiness of my former life — the insatiable yearnings
for solid, unalloyed happiness. I enjoy society, and cling to
many social ties ; but these alone could not content me. I
love the world better, for striving to be of some little use to it,
and I should be pained to have anybody believe that I have
grown misanthropic or cynical, simply because I sometimes tire
of a round of gaiety, and endeavor to employ my time usefully,
and for the benefit of my race. I felt the pressure of the iron
signet which the Creator set to his high commissions for life-long
human labor, and, breaking the spell of inertia that bound me,
I have, in part, my reward.

"'.... Get leave to work

In this world, 't is the best you get at all ;

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 359

For God, in cursing, gives us better gifts
Than men in benediction. God says ' sweat
" For foreheads ;' men say ' crowns :' and so we are crowned,
Ay, gashed by some tormenting circle of steel
Which snaps with a secret spring. Get work; get work;
Be sure 't is better than what you work to get.'

God knows we do little enough for each other in this whirl of
selfishness and grasping after gain."

" Have you, then, fully resolved to remain single ?"

" Why do you ask me that, Dr. Arnold ?"

" Because you are dear to me, Queen ; and I should like to
see you happily married before I am laid in my grave."

" You will never see it. Be sure I shall live and die Irene
Huntingdon."

" What has induced you to doom yourself to a ."

" Ask me no more, Doctor. If I am content with my lot, who
else has the right to question ?"

He looked into that fair chiselled face, arid wondered whether
she could be truly " content ;" and the* purity and peace in her
deep, calm eyes baffled him sorely. She rose, and laid her hand
on his shoulder.

"Dr. Arnold, promise me that, if there is a battle, and father
should be hurt, you will telegraph me at once. Do not hesitate
— let me know the truth immediately. Will you ?"

" I promise."

" And now, sir, what can I make or have made for you, which
will conduce to your comfort ?"

" Have you any old linen left about the house, that could be
useful among the wounded ?"

" I have sent off a good deal, but have some left. In what
form do you want it ? As lint, or bandages ?"

" Neither ; pack it just as it is, and send it on by express. I
can't carry the world on my shoulders."

" Anything else ?"

" Write to the overseer's wife to sow all the mustard-seed she
can lay her hands on, and save all the sage she can. And,
Irene, be sure to send me every drop of honey you can spare.
That is all, I believe. If I think of anything else, I will write you."

360 MAC ARIA ; OR,

" Will you take Cyrus with you ?"

" Of course. What guarantee have I that some villainous
stray shell or shot may not ricochet, and shave my head off?
I shall take him along to drag me off the field, in any such
emergency ; for if I am not a Christian myself, I want to bo
buried by Christian people — not by those puritanical golden-calf
worshipers, of ' higher-law ' notoriety."

" I trust that, in the exercise of your professional duties, you
will be in no danger. Surgeons are rarely hurt, I believe."

" Not so sure of that. Spherical-case or grape-shot have very
little respect for scientific proficiency or venerable old age. One
thing is certain, however — if anything happens to me, Cyrus
will bring me home ; and I want a quiet place near your lot in
the cemetery, where your hands, Queen, will sometimes be about
my grave. Ah, child 1 I have lived a lonely, savage sort of
tife, and spent little love on the world, or the people about me.
I have had neither wife, nor children, nor sister in my home, to
humanize me ; but you have always had a large share of my
heart, and even Leonard can hardly love you better than I do.
Think of me sometimes, Queen, and write to me freely. ]S"o eyes
but mine will ever see your letters."

He stood with his hands on her shoulders, speaking falter-
ingly ; and, unable to reply immediately, she turned her lips to
the large brawny hand which had caressed her for twenty-five
years.

Making a great effort, she said, pleadingly :

" Dr. Arnold, when I pray for father, I always include you in
my petitions. Do you never intend to pray for yourself ?"

" I should not know how to begin now, my child."

" Words always come with will. Postpone it no longer. Oh,
Doctor ! I beg of you to begin at once."

Her lashes were heavy with unshed tears, as she looked up in
his face.

" I have faith in your prayers, Queen, but not in my own
Pray for me always, dear child. God bless you ! my comfort,
my light, in a dark, troubled world of sin."

He stooped, kissed her forehead, and hurried out to his buggy.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 361

She could not realize that he would be exposed to such immi
nent danger as many others — and, having concluded her packing
and despatched the box to the depot, she wrote a few lines to a
well known bookseller, and sent Andrew to the store. An hour
after he returned, bringing a package of small, but elegantly
bound Bibles. From among the number she selected one of beau
tiful clear type, and taking it to her room, locked herself in to
escape all intrusion.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE summer day was near its death when Col. Aubrey rode
up the stately avenue, whose cool green arches were slowly fill
ing with shadows. Fastening his spirited horse to the iron post,
he ascended the marble steps, and John received his card, and
ushered him into the front parlor. The rich lace curtains were
caught back from the wide windows to admit the air, and the
whole room was flooded with subtle intoxicating perfume, from
numerous elegant vases of rare flowers, which crowned mantle,
etagere, and centre-table. On a small papier-machQ stand
drawn before one of the windows stood an exquisite cut-glass
bowl, fringed at the edge with geranium leaves, and filled with
perfect golden-hearted water-lilies, whose snowy petals spread
themselves regally, breathing incense. The proud and moody
visitor regarded them a moment, then his piercing eye ran around
the room, and rested upon a large oval picture on the opposite
wall. This portrait of Irene had been painted soon after she left
school, and represented only the face and bust rising out of a
luminous purplish mist — a face which might have served for
Guide's Aurora. Clad in the handsome glittering uniform, which
showed his nobly-proportioned and powerful figure so advantage
ously, the officer stood, hat in hand, the long sable plume droop
ing toward the floor ; and, as he scanned the portrait, his lips
moved, and these words crept inaudibly, mutteringly, over them :
16

362 MACARIA ; OR,

" Behold her there,

As I beheld her ere she knew my heart ;
My first, last love ; the idol of my youth,
The darling of my manhood, and, alas !
Now the most blessed memory of mine age.''

The frown on bis face deepened almost to a scowl, indescribably
stern ; he turned abruptly away, and looked through the open
window out upon the lawn, where flashes of sunshine and dusky
shadows struggled for mastery. The next moment Irene stood
at the door ; he turned his head, and they were face to face once
more.

Her dress was of Swiss muslin, revealing her dazzling shoul
ders and every dimple and curve of her arms. The glittering
bronze hair was looped and fastened with blue ribbons, and from
the heavy folds her favorite clematis bells hung quivering with
every motion, and matching, in depth of hue, the violets that
clustered on her bosom. The crystal calmness of the counten
ance was broken at last ; a new strange light brimmed the un
fathomable eyes, and broke in radiant ripples round the match
less mouth. On the white brow, with its marble-like gleam,
" pure lilies of eternal peace " seemed resting, as

" Sh« looked down on him from the whole
Lonely length of a life. There were sad nights and days,
There were long months and years, in that heart-searching gaze."

Never had her extraordinary beauty so stirred his heart ; a
faint flush tinged his cheek, but he bowed frigidly, and haughtily
Iris words broke the silence.

" You sent for me, Miss Huntingdon, and I obeyed }rour com
mand. Nothing less would have brought me to your presence."

She crossed the room and stood before him, holding out both
hands, while her scarlet lips fluttered perceptibly. Instead of
receiving the hands he drew back a step, and crossed his arms
proudly over his chest. She raised her fascinating eyes to his,
folded her palms together, and, pressing them to her heart, said,
slowly and distinctly :

" I heard that you were ordered to Virginia, to the post of
danger ; and knowing to what risks you will be exposed, I wish-

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 363

ed to see you at least once more in this world. Perhaps the
step I am taking may be condemned by some as a deviation from
the delicacy of my sex — I trust I am not wanting in proper ap
preciation of what is due to my own self-respect — but the feel
ings which I have crushed back so long, now demand utterance.
Russell, I have determined to break the seal of many years si
lence — to roll away the stone from the sepulchre — to tell you all.
I feel that you and I must understand each other before we part
for all time, and, therefore, I sent for you."

She paused, drooping her head, unable to meet his searching
steady black eyes riveted upon hers ; and, drawing his tall ath
letic figure to its utmost height, he asked, defiantly :

" You sent for me through compassionate compunctions, then
— intending, at the close, to be magnanimous, and, in lieu of dis
dain, tell me that you pity me ?"

" Pity you ? No, Russell ; I do not pity you."

" It is well. I neither deserve nor desire it."

" What motive do you suppose prompted me to send for you
on the eve of your departure 1"

" I am utterly at a loss to conjecture. I once thought you too
generous to wish to inflict pain unnecessarily on any one ; but
God knows this interview is inexpressibly painful to me."

A numbing suspicion crossed her mind, blanching lip and cheek
to the hue of death, and hardening her into the old statue-like
expression. Had he, indeed, ceased to love her ? Had Salome
finally won her place in his heart ? He saw, without compre
hending, the instantaneous change which swept over her features,
and regarded her with mingled impatience and perplexity.

" If such be the truth, Col. Aubrey, the interview is ended."

He bowed, and turned partially away, but paused irresolute,
chained by that electrical pale face, which no man, woman, or
child ever looked at without emotion.

" Before we part, probably for ever, I should like to know
why you sent for me."

" Do you remember that, one year ago to-night, we sat on the
steps of the Factory, and you told me of the feeling you had
cherished for me from your boyhood ?"

364: MACAKIA ; OE,

" It was a meeting too fraught with pain and mortification to
be soon forgotten."

" I believe you thought me cold, heartless, and unfeeling then ?"

" There was no room to doubt it. Your haughty coldness car
ried its own interpretation."

" Because I knew that such was the harsh opinion you had en
tertained for twelve months, I sought this opportunity to relieve
myself of an unjust imputation. If peace had been preserved,
and you had always remained quietly here, I should never have
undeceived you — for the same imperative reasons, the same stern
necessity, which kept me silent on the night to which I allude,
would have sealed my lips through life. But all things are
changed ; you are going into the very jaws of death, with what
result no human foresight can predict ; and now, after long suf
fering, I feel that I have earned and may claim the right to
speak to you of that which I have always expected to bury with
me in my grave."

Again her crowned head bowed itself.

Past bitterness and wounded pride were instantly forgotten ;
Lope kindled in his dark, stern face a beauty that rarely dwelt
there, and, throwing down his hat, he stepped forward and took
her folded hands in his strong grasp.

" Irene, do you intend me to understand — are you willing that
I shall believe that, after all, I have an interest in your heart —
that I am more to you than you ever before deigned to let me
know ? If it, indeed, be so, oh ! give me the unmistakable as
surance."

Her lips moved ; he stooped his haughty head to catch the
low, fluttering words.

" You said that night : ' I could forgive your father all ! all !
if I knew that he had not so successfully hardened, closed your
heart against me.' Forgive him, Russell. You never can know all
that you have been to me from my childhood. Only God, who
sees my heart, knows what suffering our long alienation has cost
me."

An instant he wavered, his strong frame quivered, and then
he caught her exultingly in his arms, resting her head upon his

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 365

bosom, leaning his swarthy hot check on hers, cold and transpa
rent as alabaster.

" At last I realize the one dream of my life ! I hold you to
my heart, acknowledged all my own ! Who shall dare dispute
the right your lips have given me ? Hatred is powerless now ;
none shall come between me and my own. Oh, Irene ! my beau
tiful darling ! not all my ambitious hopes, not all the future
holds, not time, nor eternity, could purchase the proud, inexpres
sible joy of this assurance. I have toiled and struggled, I have
suffered in silence ; I have triumped and risen in a world that
sometimes stung my fiery heart almost to madness ; and I have
exulted, I have gloried, in my hard-earned success. But ambi
tion dims, and my laurels wither, in comparison with the pre
cious, priceless consciousness of your love. I said ambition shall
content me — shall usurp the pedestal where, long ago, I lifted a
fair girlish image ; but the old worship followed, haunted me
continually. I looked up from MS. speeches to find your incom
parable magnetic eyes before me ; and now, in the midst of bit
terness and loneliness, I have my great reward. God bless you,
Irene ! for this one hour of perfect happiness in a cold and joy
less life. If, when disappointed and baffled by your habitual po
lished reserve, I have said or done harsh, unjust things, which
wounded you, forgive me — remembering only my love, and my
torturing dread that you would become Bainbridge's wife. Oh !
that was the most horrible apprehension that ever possessed
me."

" Instead of cherishing your affection for me, you struggled
against it with all the energy of your character. I have seen,
for some time, that you were striving to crush it out — to forget
me entirely."

" I do not deny it ; and certainly you ought not to blame
me. You kept me at a distance with your chilling, yet graceful,
fascinating hauteur. I had nothing to hope — everything to suf
fer. I diligently set to work to expel you utterly from my
thoughts ; and, I tell you candidly, I endeavored to love another,
who was brilliant, and witty, and universally admired. But her
fitful, stormy, exacting temperament was too much like my own

366 MACAEIA; OK,

to suit me. I tried faithfully to become attached to her, intend
ing to make her my wife, but I failed signally. My heart clung
stubbornly to its old worship ; my restless, fiery spirit could find
no repose, no happiness, save in the purity, the profound, marvel
lous calm of your nature. You became the synonyme of peace,
rest ; and, because you gave me no friendly word or glance, lock
ing your passionless face against me, I grew savage toward you.
Did you believe that I would marry Salome ?"

" Xo 1 I had faith that, despite your angry efforts, your
heart would be true to me."

" Why did you inflict so much pain on us both, when a word
would have explained all ? When the assurance you have given
me to-day would have sweetened the past years of trial ?"

" Because I knew it would not have that effect. I am consti
tutionally more patient than you, and yet, with all my efforts to
be resigned to what could not be remedied, and to bear my sor
row with fortitude, I found myself disposed to repine ; and, be
cause I was so sure of your affection to — •

" ' Cry to the winds, oh, God ! it might have been.'

A belief of my indifference steeled you against me — nerved you
to endurance. But a knowledge of the truth would have in
creased your acrimony of feeling toward him whom you regarded
as the chief obstacle, and this, at all hazards, I was resolved to
avoid. Russell, I knew that our relations could never be chang
ed ; that the barriers, for which neither you nor I are responsi
ble in any degree, were insurmountable ; and that, in this world,
we must walk widely-diverging paths, exchanging few words of.
sympathy. Because I realized so fully the necessity of estrange
ment, I should never have acquainted you with my own feelings,
had I not known that a long, and perhaps final, separation now
stretches before us. In the painful course which duty imposed on
me, I have striven to promote your ultimate happiness, rather
than my own."

" Irene, how can you persuade yourself that it is your duty to
obey an unjust and tyrannical decree, which sacrifices the happi
ness of two to the unreasonable vindictiveness of one ?"

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 867

" Remember that you are Speaking of my father, and do not
make me regret that I have seen you in his house."

" You must not expect of me more forbearance than my na
ture is capable of. I have lost too much through his injustice
to bear nay injuries coolly. I was never a meek man, and strife
and trial have not sweetened my temper. If you love me, and
the belief is too precious to me to be questioned now, I hold it
your duty to me and to your own heart to give yourself to me,
to gild our future with the happiness of which the past has been
cheated. Your father has no right to bind your life a sacrifice
upon the altar of his implacable hate ; nor have you a right to
doom yourself and me to life-long sorrow, because of an ancient
feud, which neither of us had any agency in effecting."

" Duty, because inflexible and involving great pain, -is not
therefore less imperative. Russell, have you forgotten Chelo-
nis r

He tightened his clasping arms, and exclaimed :

" Ah, Irene I I would willingly go into exile, with you for my
Chelonis. Perish ambition 1 live only such a future. But you
remember nothing but Chelonis' filial obligations, forgetting all
she owed, and all she nobly gave, Cleombrotus. If you would
lay your hands in mine, and give me his right, oh ! what glory
would crown the coming years ! Irene, before it is too late,
have mercy on us both."

She lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked up pleadingly
in his flushed, eager face.

" Russell, do not urge me ; it is useless. Spare me the pain
of repeated refusals, and be satisfied with what I have given you.
Believe that my heart is, and ever will be, yours entirely, though
my hand you can never claim. I know what I owe my father,
and I will pay to the last iota^; and I know as well what I owe
myself, and, therefore, I shall live true to my first and only love,
and die Irene Huntingdon. More than this you have no right
to ask — I no right to grant. Be patient, Russell ; be gener
ous."

" Patient ! patient ! I am but human."

" Rise above the human ; remember that, at best, life is short,

368

and that after a little while eternity will stretch its holy circles
before our feet. Such is my hope. I look down the lonely, si
lent vista of rny coming years, whose niches are filled, not with
joy, but quiet resignation — and I see beyond the calm shores of
Rest, where, if faithful here, you and I may clasp hands for ever !
To me this is no dim, shadowy, occasional comfort, but a fixed,
firm, priceless trust."

She felt the deep, rapid throbbing of his heart, as he held her
to his bosom ; and a dark cloud of sorrow settled on his features,
while he listened to her low, sweet, steady voice. He kissed her
twice, and said, huskily :

" Do you intend to send me from you ? To meet me hence
forth as a stranger ?"

" Circumstances, which I can not control, make it necessary. n

11 At least you will let me hear from you sometimes ? You
will give me the privilege of writing to you ?"

"Impossible, Pvussell ; do not ask that of me."

" Oh, Irene ! you are cruel I Why withhold that melancholy
comfort from me ?"

" Simply for the reason that it would unavoidably prove a
source of pain to both. I judge you by myself. A correspond
ence would keep your mind constantly harassed on a subject
which time will inevitably soften, mellow ; and the expectation
of letters from you would induce a feverish excitement and impa
tience in my own heart, which I wish to escape. It would feed
useless regrets, and be productive only of harm. I want neither
your usefulness in life nor mine impaired by continual weak re
pining. If I can patiently bear a great sea of silence between
us henceforth, you certainly should be stronger ; should appreci
ate my motives, without suspecting any diminution of affection
on my part. If your life is spared I shall anxiously watch your
career, rejoicing in all your honors, and your noble use of the tal
ents which God gave you for the benefit of your race and the
advancement of truth. No matter how the world may deride,
or cynics sneer at the supposition, I tell you solemnly, absence
hjis no power over a true woman's heart. Her affection will tri
umph over separation, over silence, over death ! over everything

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 3G9

but loss of confidence ; over all but discovered nnwortliiness in
its object. It can bid defiance to obstacles, to adverse fate, so
long as trust remains intact, and respect is possible ; that you
will ever forfeit either, I entertain no fear."

" I am not as noble as you think me ; my ambition is not as
unselfish as you suppose. Under your influence, other aims and
motives might possess me."

" You mistake your nature. Your intellect and temperament
stamp you one of the few who receive little impression from ex
traneous influences ; and it is because of this stern obstinate
individuality of character, that I hope an extended sphere of
usefulness for you, if you survive this war. Our country will de
mand your services, and I shall be proud and happy in the knowl
edge that you are faithfully and conscientiously discharging the
duties of a statesman."

"Ah ! but the wages are hollow. My ambition has already
been gratified to some extent, and in the very flush of triumph I
sat down to eat its fruit, and smiled grimly over its dust and
ashes."

" Because self-aggrandizement was then the sole aim. But a
holier, a more disinterested, unselfish ambition to serve only
God, Truth, and Country, will insure a blessed consciousness of
well-spent years and consecrated talents, comforting beyond all
else that earth can give."

He shook his head sadly ; placing his palm under her chin,
and tenderly raising the face, in order to scan it fully.

" Irene, oblige me in what may seem a trifle ; unfasten your
hair and let it fall around you, as I have seen it once or twice in
your life."

She took out her comb, untied the ribbons, and, passing her
fingers through the bands, shook them down till they touched the
floor.

He passed his hand carelessly over the glossy waves, and
smiled proudly,

" How often I have longed to lay my fingers on these rippling
folds, as they flashed around you so, or were coiled into a crown
about your head. With what glory they invest you ! Your

16*

370 MACARIA; OK,

picture there upon the wall seems lighted with the golden gleam.
Irene, give me a likeness of yourself as you stand now, or if you
prefer it, have a smaller one photographed to-morrow from that
portrait, and send it to me by express. I shall be detained in
Richmond several days, and it will reach me safely. Do not, I
beg of you, refuse me this. It is the only consolation I can have,
and God knows it is little enough ! Oh, Irene ! think of my
loneliness, and grant this last request."

His large brilliant eyes were full of tears, the first she had ever
seen dim their light ; and, moved by the grief which so transformed
his lineaments, she answered, hastily :

" Of course, if you desire it so earnestly, though it were much
better that you had nothing to remind you of me/'

" Will you have it taken to-morrow."

" Yes."

She covered her face with her hands for some seconds, as if
striving to overcome some impulse ; then, turning quickly to him,
she wound her arms about his neck, and drew his face down to
hers.

" Oh, Russell ! Russell ! I want your promise that you will so
live and govern yourself that, if your soul is summoned from the
battle-field, you can confront Eternity without a single appre
hension. If you must yield up your life for freedom, I want the
assurance that you have gone to your final home at peace with
God ; that you wait there for me ; and that, when my work is
done, and I, too, lay my weary head to rest, we shall meet soul
to soul, and spend a blessed eternity together, where strife and
separation are unknown. In the realization of your ambitious
dreams, I know that you have given no thought to these things ;
and it was chiefly my anxiety to impress upon you their import
ance, their vital necessity, which induced me to send for you.
Your hard, bitter heart must be softened ; you must try to over
come your vindictiveness ; to cherish more charity and forgiveness
toward some who have thwarted you. Sometimes, in watching
your gloomy, stern face, I have almost despaired that you would
ever feel otherwise; and many a night I have prayed fervently
that you might be influenced to make some preparation for futu-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 371

rity. Oh, Russell ! I can be brave, and strong, and patient ; T
can bear to see your dear face no more in this world ; I can give
you up to our country, and not murmur that you died defending
her liberties — if I have the conviction that, in that noble death,
you found the gate of heaven — that I shall meet you again when
my God calls me home. Think of this when you leave me for the
temptations of camp-life, and go forth to scenes of strife and
horror. Think of it by day and night, striving to subdue your
heart in accordance with the precepts of Christ ; to exert a
restraining, purifying influence over your command ; and remem
ber, oh, remember, Russell ! that this is -the only hope I have to
cheer me. Will you promise to read the Bible I give you now —
to pray constantly for yourself ? Will you promise to meet me
beyond the grave ?"

His black locks lay upon her forehead as he struggled for
composure, and, after a moment, he answered, solemnly :

" I will try, my darling."

She put into his hand the Bible, which she had carefully
marked, and which bore on the blank leaf, in her handwriting :
" Colonel Russell Aubrey, with the life-long prayers of his best
friend.'7

The shadow fled from her countenance, which grew radiant as
some fleecy vapor suddenly smitten with a blaze of sunlight, and
clearer and sweeter than chiming bells her voice rang through
the room.

" Thank God ! for that promise. I shall lean my heart upon
it till the last pulsations are stilled in my coffin. .And now
I will keep you no longer from your regiment. I know that
you have many duties there to claim your time. Turn your face
toward the window ; I want to look at it, to be able to keep its
expression always before me."

She put up her waxen hand, brushed the hair from his pale,
dome-like brow, and gazed earnestly at the noble features, which
even the most fastidious could find no cause to carp at.

" Of old, when Eurystheus threatened Athens, Macaria, in
order to save the city and the* land from invasion and sub
jugation, willingly devoted himself a sacrifice upon the altar of

3 72 MAC ARIA ; OR,

the gods. Ah, Russell ! that were an easy task, in comparison
with the offering I am called upon to make. I can not, like
Macaria, by self-immolation, redeem my country ; from that
great privilege I am debarred ; but I yield up more than she
ever possessed. I give my all on earth — my father and your
self — to our beloved and suffering country. My God ! accept
the sacrifice, and crown the South a sovereign, independent
nation ! Gladly, unshrinkingly, would I meet a death so sublime ;
but to survive the loss of those dearer far than my life, to live
and endure such desolation — oh ! my lot, and that of thousands
of my country-women, is infinitely more bitter than the fate of
Macaria 1"

She smothered a moan, and her head sank on his shoulder ;
but lifting it instantly, with her fathomless affection beaming in
her face, she added :

" To the mercy and guidance of Almighty God I commit you,
dear Russell — trusting all things in His hands. May He shield
you from suffering, strengthen you in the hour of trial, and re
unite us eternally in his kingdom, is, and ever shall be, my con
stant prayer. Good-by, Russell I Do your duty nobly ; win
deathless glory on the battle-field, in defence of our sacred cause ;
and remember that your laurels will be very precious to my
lonely heart."

He folded her in his arms, and kissed her repeatedly ; but,
disengaging herself, she put him gently aside ; and, snatching up
his hat, he left the room. He reached his horse, then paused,
and returned to the parlor.

The sun had set, but waves of rich orange light rolled through
the window, and broke over the white figure kneeling there,
half-veiled by curling hair. The clasped hands were uplifted,
and the colorless face was thrown back in silent supplication.
He watched the wonderful loveliness of face and form, till his
pride was utterly melted, and, sinking on his knees, he threw
one arm around her waist, exclaiming :

" Oh, Irene ! you have conquered ! With God's grace I will
so spend the residue of my life as to merit your love, and the
Uope of reunion beyond the grave."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 373

Sllrd laid her hand lightly on his bowed head as he knelt be
side her, and, in a voice that knew no faltering, breathed out -a
fervent prayer, full of pathos and sublime faith — invoking bless
ings upon him — life-long guardianship, and final salvation
through Christ. The petition ended, she rose, smiling through
the mist that gathered over her eyes, and he said :

" I came back to ask something which I feel that you will not
refuse me. Electra will probably soon come home, and she may
be left alone in the world. Will you sometimes go to her for
my sake, and give her your friendship ?"

" I will, Russell, for her sake, as well as for yours. She shall
be the only sister I have ever known."

She drew his hand to her lips, but he caught it away, and
pressed a last kiss upon them.

" Good-by, my own darling ! my life angel I"

She heard his step across the hall ; a moment after, the tramp
of his horse, as he galloped down the avenue, and she knew that
the one happy hour of her life had passed — that the rent sepulchre
of silence must be resealed.

Pressing her hand over her desolate heart, she murmured sadly :

" Thy will, not mine, oh, Father ! Give me strength to do
my work ; enable me to be faithful even to the bitter end."

CHAPTER XXX.

STRANGE heroic parallelisms startle the grave, reflecting student
of history, and propound the inquiry : Is the Buckle theory of
immutable cycles correct ? Is the throbbing, surging world of
human emotions and passions but a mere arithmetical problem,
to be solved through the erudition and astuteness of Qnetelet or
Hassel, by an infallible statistical rule-of-three ? Has the relent
less Necessity of Conitc erected its huge mill on this continent,
to grimly grind out the annual quantity of patriotism, tyranny,
noble self-abnegation, or Machiavelism, in the prescribed invari-

374: MACARIA; OR,

able ratio of " Sociology ?" Is it that times make men and
women, through dire necessity of individual or national salvation,
or will it be urged that sublime records of the past fire the soul
to emulation and duplication of ancient heroism ? Davus sum
non CEdipus. In 1781, when compelled to raise the siege of
Ninety-Six, it became very important that General Greene should
communicate with Sumter. The intervening country was, how
ever, so filled with British and Tories, and such dangers attended
the mission, that no one could be found willing to undertake it.
In this emergency, when even our patriots of the first Revolution
shrank back, Emily Geiger, only eighteen years of age, volun
teered to make the hazardous attempt, and received from General
Greene a letter, and verbal messages, which he was extremely
desirous should reach their destination. Mounting a swift horse,
she performed a portion of the journey in safety ; but was ulti
mately arrested by two Tories, who suspected that she might
be rendering important, though clandestine, service to " the
rebels." Swiftly and unobserved she swallowed the written des
patch, and baffled in their expectation of finding suspicious docu
ments they allowed her to proceed. Sumter's camp was safely
reached, the messages were delivered, General Greene's army was
reinforced, and soon became strong enough to assume the offen
sive, Rawdon was forced to retreat, and Greene subsequently
met and vanquished the British army at Eutaw Springs. Was
not Emily Geiger's slender womanly hand instrumental in pre
paring for that battle, the results of which freed the Carolinas ?
In July, 1861, when the North, blinded by avarice and hate,
rang with the cry of " On to Richmond," our Confederate Army
of the Potomac was divided between Manassa and Winchester,
watching at both points the glittering coils of the Union boa-
constrictor, which writhed in its efforts to crush the last sanctuary
of freedom. The stringency evinced along the Federal lines pre
vented the transmission of despatches by the Secessionists of
Maryland, and for a time Generals Beaurcgard and Johnston
were kept in ignorance of the movements of the enemy. Patter
son hung dark and lowering around Winchester, threatening
daily descent ; while the main column of the grand army under

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE/ 375

McDowell proceeded from Washington, confident in the expec
tation of overwhelming the small army stationed at Manassa.
The friends of liberty who were compelled to remain in the dese
crated old capital appreciated the urgent necessity of acquainting
General Beauregard with the designs of McDowell, and the arch-
apostate, Scott ; but all channels of egress seemed sealed ; all roads
leading across the Potomac were vigilantly guarded, to keep the
great secret safely ; and painful apprehensions were indulged for
the fate of the Confederate army. But the Promethian spark
of patriotic devotion burned in the hearts of Secession women ;
and, resolved to dare all things in a cause so holy, a young lady
of Washington, strong in heroic faith, offered to encounter any
perils, and pledged her life to give General Beauregard the
necessary information. Carefully concealing a letter in the twist
of her luxuriant hair, which would escape detection even should
she be searched, she disguised herself effectually, and, under the
mask of a market-woman, drove a cart through Washington,
across the Potomac, and deceived the guard by selling vegetables
and milk as she proceeded. Once beyond Federal lines, a-nd in
friendly neighborhood, it was but a few minutes work to " off ye
lendings," and secure a horse and riding-habit. With a courage
and rapidity which must ever command the admiration of a brave
people, she rode at hard gallop that burning July afternoon to
Fairfax Court-house, and telegraphed to General Beauregard,
then at Manassa's Junction, the intelligence, she had risked so
much to convey. Availing himself promptly of the facts, he
flashed them along electric wires to Richmond, and to General
Johnston ; and thus, through womanly devotion, a timely junction
of the two armies was effected, ere McDowell's banners flouted
the skies of Bull Run.

Carthagenian women gave their black locks to string their
country's bows, and furnish cordage for its shipping ; and the
glossy tresses of an American woman veiled a few mystic ciphers
more potent in General Beauregard's hands than TalmudisL
Shemhamphorash.

Her mission accomplished, the dauntless courier turned her
horse's head, and, doubtless, with an exulting, thankful heart

376 MACAEIA ; OR,

returned in triumph to Washington. When our national jewels
are made up, will not a grateful and admiring country set her
name between those of Beauregard and Johnston in the revolu
tionary diadem, and let the three blaze through coming ages,
baffling the mists of time — the Constellation of Manassa ? The
artillery duel of the 18th of July ended disastrously for the ad
vance guard of the Federals — a temporary check was given.

All things seemed in abeyance ; dun, sulphurous clouds of
smoke lifted themselves from the dewy copse that fringed Bull
Run, floating slowly to the distant purple crests of the Blue Ridge,
which gazed solemnly down on the wooded Coliseum, where gladia
torial hosts were soon to pour out their blood in the hideous
orgies held by loathsome Fanaticism — guarded by Federal bayo
nets, and canopied by the Stars and Stripes. During the silent
watches of Saturday night —

" Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion creeping nigher.
Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly dying fire."

A pure Sabbath morning kindled on the distant hill-tops,
wearing heavenly credentials of rest and sanctity on its pearly
forehead — credentials which the passions of mankind could not
pause to recognize ; and with the golden glow of summer sun
shine came the tramp of infantry, the clatter of cavalry, the sul
len growl of artillery. Major Huntingdon had been temporarily
assigned to a regiment of infantry after leaving Richmond, and
was posted on the right of General Beauregard's lines, command
ing one of the lower fords. Two miles higher up the stream, in
a different brigade, Colonel Aubrey's regiment guarded another
of the numerous crossings. As the day advanced, and the continu
al roar of cannon toward Stone-Bridge and Sudley's ford indicated
that the demonstrations on McLean's, Blackford's, and Mitchell's
fords, were mere feints to hold our right and centre, the truth
flashed on General Beauregard that the main column was hurled
against Evans' little band on the extreme left. Hour after hour
passed, and the thunder deepened on the Warrenton road : then
the General learned, with unutterable chagrin, that his order for
an advance on Centreville had miscarried, that a brilliant plan
had been frustrated, and that new combinations and dispositions

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 377

must now be resorted to. The regiment to which Major Hunting
don was attached was ordered to the support of the left wing, and
reached the distant position in an almost incredibly short time,
while two regiments of the brigade to which Colonel Aubrey be
longed were sent forward to the same point as a reserve.

Like incarnations of victory, Beauregard and Johnston swept
to the front where the conflict was most deadly ; everywhere, at
sight of them, our thin ranks dashed forward, and were mowed
down by the fire of Rickett's and Griffin's batteries, which crown
ed the position they were so eager to regain. At half-past two
o'clock the awful contest was at its height ; the rattle of musket
ry, the ceaseless whistle of rifle balls, the deafening boom of
artillery, the hurtling hail of shot, the explosion of shell, dense
volumes of smoke shrouding the combatants, and clouds of dust
boiling up on all sides, lent unutterable horror to a scene which,
to cold, dispassionate observers, might have seemed sublime. As
the vastly superior numbers of the Federals forced our stubborn
bands to give back slowly, an order came from General Beaure
gard for the right of his line, except the reserves, to advance,
and recover the long and desperately-disputed plateau. "With a
shout, the shattered lines sprang upon the foe and forced them
temporarily back. Major Huntingdon's horse was shot under
him ; he disengaged himself and marched on foot, waving his
sword and utteriug words of encouragement. He had proceeded
but a few yards when a grape-shot entered his side, tearing its
way through his body, and he fell where the dead lay thickest.
For a time the enemy retired, but heavy reinforcements pressed in,
and they returned, reoccupying the old ground. Not a moment
was to be lost ; General Beauregard ordered forward his reserves
for a second effort, and with magnificent effect, led the charge
in person. Then Russell Aubrey first came actively upon the
field. At the word of command he dashed forward with his
splendid regiment, and, high above all, towered his powerful form,
with the long black plume of his hat drifting upon the wind as
he led his admiring men. ^

As he pressed on, with thin nostril dilated, and eyes that
burned like those of a tiger seizing his prey, he saw, just in his

378 MACAEIA ; OK,

path, leaning on bis elbow, covered with blood and smeared with
dust, the crushed, withering form of his bitterest enemy. His
horse's hoofs were almost upon him ; he reined him back an in
stant, and glared down at his old foe. It was only for an instant ;
and as Major Huntingdon looked on the stalwart figure and at
the advancing regiment, life-long hatred and jealousy were for
gotten — patriotism throttled all the past in her grasp — he feebly
threw up his hand, cheered faintly, and, with his eyes on Russell's,
smiled grimly, saying, with evident difficulty :

" Beat them back, Aubrey ! Give them the bayonet."
The shock was awful — beggaring language. On, on they
swept, while ceaseless cheers mingled with the cannonade ; the
ground was recovered, to be captured no more. The Federals
were driven back across the turnpike, and now dark masses
of reinforcements debouched on the plain, and marched toward
our loft. Was it Grouchy or Blucher ? Some moments of pain
ful suspense ensued, while General Beauregard strained his eyes
to decipher the advancing banner. Red and white and blue, cer
tainly; but was it the ensign of Despotism or of Liberty ? Nearer
and nearer came the rushing column, and lo ! upon the breeze
streamed, triumphant as the Labaruui of Constantine, the Stars
and Bars. Kirby Smith and Elzey — God be praised ! The
day was won, and Victory nestled proudly among the folds of
our new-born banner. One more charge along our whole line,
and the hireling hords of oppression fled, panic-stricken. Russell
had received a* painful wound from a miunie ball, which entered
his shoulder and ranged down toward the elbow, but he main
tained his position, and led his regiment a mile in the pursuit.
When it became evident that the retreat was a complete rout, he
resigned the command to Lieutenant-Colonel Blackwell, and rode
back to the battle-field. Hideous was the spectacle presented —
dead and dying, friend and foe, huddled in indiscriminate ruir,
weltering in blood, and shiverirtg^ia the agonies of dissolution ;
Blackened headless trunks arid fragments of limbs — ghastly
sights and sounds of woe, filling the scene of combat. Such
were the first fruits of the bigotry and fanatical hate o£ New
England, aided by the unprincipled demagogisni of the West ;

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 379

such were the wages of Abolitionism, guided by Lincoln and
Seward — the latter-clay Sejanus ; such the results of " higher-
law," canting, puritanical hypocrisy.

Picking his way to avoid trampling the dead, Russell saw Major
Huntingdon! at a little distance, trying to drag himself toward
a neighboring tree. The memory of his injuries crowded up —
the memory of all that he had endured and lost through that
man's prejudice — the sorrow that might have been averted from
his blind mother — and his vindictive spirit rebelled at the
thought of rendering him aid. But as he paused and struggled
against his better nature, Irene's holy face, as he saw it last,
lifted in prayer for him, rose, angel-like, above all that mass of
death and horrors. The sufferer was Irene's father ; she was
hundreds of miles away; Russell set his lips firmly, and, riding
up to the prostrate figure, dismounted. Exhausted by his
efforts, Major Huntingdon had fallen back in the dust, and an
expression of intolerable agony distorted his features as Russell
stooped over him, and asked in a voice meant to be gentle :

" Can I do anything for you ? Could you sit up, if I placed
you on my horse ?"

The wounded man scowled as he recognized the voice and face,
and turned his head partially away, muttering ;

" What brought you here ?"

" There has never been any love between us, Major Hunting
don ; but we are fighting in the same cause for the first time in.
our lives. You are badly wounded, and, as a fellow- soldier, I
should be glad to relieve your sufferings, if possible. Once more,
for humanity's sake, I ask, can you ride my horse to the rear,
if I assist you to mount ?"

" No. But, for God's sake, give me some water !"

Russell knelt, raised the head, and unbuckling his canteen, put
it to his lips, using his own wounded arm with some difficulty.
Half of the contents was eagerly swallowed, and the remainder
Russell poured slowly on the gaping, ghastly wound in his side.
The proud man eyed him steadily till the last cool drop was e^
hausted, and said, sullenly :

" You owe me no kindness, Aubrey. I hate you, and you

380 MACARIA ; OR,

know it. But you have heaped coals of fire on my head. You
are more generous than I thought you. Thank you, Aubrey ;
lay me under that tree yonder, and let me die."

' ' I will try to find a surgeon. Who belongs to your regi
ment ?"

u Somebody whom I never saw till last week. I won't have
im hacking about me. Leave me in peace."

" Do you know anything of your servant ? I saw him as I
came on the field."

" Poor William ! he followed me so closely that he was shot
through the head. He is lying three hundred yards to the left,
yonder. Poor fellow ! he was faithful to the last."

A tear dimmed the master's eagle eye as he muttered, rather
than spoke, these words.

" Then I will find DT. Arnold at once, and send him to you."

It was no easy matter, on that crowded, confused Aceldama,
amd the afternoon was well nigh spent before Russell, faint and
weary, descried Dr. Arnold busily using his instruments in a
group of wounded. He rode up, and, having procured a drink
of water and refilled his canteen, approached the surgeon.

" Doctor, where is your horse ? I wan't you."

"Ho, Cyrus 1 bring him up. What is the matter, Aubrey?
You are hurt."

" Nothing serious, I think. But Major Huntingdon is despe
rately wounded — mortally, I am afraid. See what you can do
for him.'*

" You must be mistaken ! I have asked repeatedly for Leo
nard, and they told me he was in hot pursuit, and unhurt. I
hope to heaven you are mistaken."

" Impossible ; I tell you I lifted him o-ut of a pool of his own
blood. Come ; I will show you the way."

At a hard gallop they crossed the intervening woods, and
without difficulty Russell found the spot where the mangled form
lay still. He had swooned, with his face turned up to the sky,
and the ghastliness of death had settled on his strongly-marked,
handsome features,

" God pity Irene 1" said the doctor, as he bent down and ex-

ALTABS OF SACRIFICE. 381

amined the horrid wound, striving to press the red lips together.

The pain caused from handling him roused the brave spirit to
consciousness, and opening his eyes he looked around wonder-
iugly.

" Well, Hiram ! it is all over with me, old fellow."

" I hope not, Leonard ; can't you turn a little, and let me
feel for the ball ?"

" It is of no use ; I am torn all to pieces. Take me out of
this dirt, on the fresh grass somewhere."

" I must first extract the ball. Aubrey, can you help me
raise him a little ?"

Administering some chloroform, he soon succeeded in taking
out the ball, and, with Russell's assistance, passed a bandage
round the body.

" There is no chance for me, Hiram ; I know that. I have
few minutes to live. Some water."

Russell prft a cup to his white lips, and calling in the assist
ance of Cyrus, who had followed his master, they carried him
several yards farther, and made him comfortable, while orders
were despatched for an ambulance.

" It will come after my corpse. Hiram, see that I am sent
home at once. I don't want my bones mixed here with other
people's ; and it will be some comfort to Irene to know that I
am buried in sight of home. I could not rest in a ditch here.
I want to be laid in my own vault. Will you see to it ?"

"Yes."

" Hiram, come nearer, where I can see you better. Break
the news gently to Irene . Tell her I did my duty ; that will
be her only comfort, and best. Tell her I fell in the thickest of
the battle, with my face to Washington ; that I died gloriously,
as a Huntingdon and a soldier should. Tell her I sent her my
blessing, my love, and a last kiss."

He paused, and tears glided over his wan cheeks as the pic
ture of his far-off home rose temptingly before him.

" She is a brave child ; she will bear it, for the sake of the
cause I died in. Take care of her, Arnold ; tell Eric I leave
her to his guardianship. Harris has my will. My poor lonely

382 MACARIA; OK,

child ! it is bitter to leave her. My Queen ! my golden-haired,
beautiful Irene !"

He raised his hand feebly, and covered his face.

" Don't let it trouble you, Leonard. You know how I love
her ; I promise you I will watch over her as long as I live."

" I believe you. But if I could see her once more, to ask her
not to remember my harshness — long ago. You must tell her for
me ; she will understand. Oh ! I — ."

A horrible convulsion seized him at this moment, and so intense
was the agony that a groan burst through his set teeth, and
he struggled to rise. Russell knelt down and rested the haughty
head against his shoulder, wiping off the cold drops that beaded
the pallid brow. After a little while, lifting his eyes to the face,
bending over him, Major Huntingdon gazed into the melancholy
black eyes, and said, almost in a whisper :

" I little thought I should ever owe you thanks. Aubrey, for
give me all my hate ; you can afford to do so now. I am not a
brute ; I know magnanimity when I see it. Perhaps I was
wrong to visit Amy's sins on you ; but I could not forgive her.
Aubrey, it was natural that I should liate Amy's son."

Again the spasm shook his lacerated frame, and twenty min
utes after his fierce relentless spirit was released from torture;
the proud, ambitious, dauntless man was with his God.

Dr. Arnold closed the eyes with trembling fingers, and cover
ed his face with his hands to hide the tears that he could not
repress.

" A braver man never died for freedom. He cheered me on
as my regiment charged over the spot where he lay," said Rus
sell, looking down at the stiffening form.

" He had his faults, like the rest of us, and his were .stern
ones ; but, for all that, I was attached to him. He had some
princely traits. I would rather take my place there beside him,
than have to break this to Irene. Poor, desolate child ! what
an awful shock for her ! She loves him with a devotion which I
have rarely seen equalled. God only knows how she will bear it.
If I were not so needed here, I would go to her to-morrow."

* ' Perhaps you can be spared."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 383

" No ; it would not be right to leave so much suffering
behind." *-

He turned to Cyrus, and gave directions about bringing the
body into camp, to his own tent ; and the two mounted and rode
slowly back.

For some moments silence reigned ; then Dr. Arnold said,
suddenly :

" I am glad you were kind to him, Aubrey. It will be some

consolation to that pure soul in W , who has mourned

over and suffered for his violent animosity. It was very gener
ous, Russell,"

" Save your commendation for a better occasion ; I do not
merit it now. I had, and have, as little magnanimity as my
old enemy, and what I did was through no generous oblivion of
the past."

Glancing at him as these words were uttered gloomily, the
doctor noticed his faint, wearied appearance, and led the way to
his temporary hospital.

" Come in, and let me see your arm. Your sleeve is full of
blood."

An examination discovered a painful flesh-wound — the minnie
ball having glanced from the shoulder and passed out through
the upper part of the arm. In removing the coat to dress the
wound, the doctor exclaimed :

" Here is a bullet-hole in the breast, which must have just
missed your heart ! Was it a spent-ball ?"

A peculiar smile disclosed Russell's faultless teeth an instant,
but he merely took the coat, laid it over his uninjured arm, and
answered :

" Don't trouble yourself about spent-balls — finish your job. I
must look after my wounded."

As soon as the bandages were adjusted he walked away, and
took from the inside pocket of the coat a heavy square morocco
case containing Irene's ambrotype. When the coat was button
ed, as on that day, it rested over his heart ; and during the sec
ond desperate charge of General Beau regard's lines, Russell felt
a sudden thump, and, above all the roar of that scene of earn-

384: MACARIA; OK,

age, heard the shivering of the glass which covered the likeness.
The morocco was torn and indented, but' the ball was turned
aside harmless, and now, as he touched the spring, the fragments
of glass fell at his feet. It was evident that his towering form
had rendered him a conspicuous target ; some accurate marks
man had aimed at his heart, and the arnbrotype-case had pre
served his life. He looked at the uninjured, radiant face till a
mist dimmed his eyes ; nobler aspirations, purer aims possessed
him, and, bending his knees, he bowed his forehead on the case
and reverently thanked God for his deliverance. With a coun
tenance pale from physical suffering, but beaming with triumph
ant joy for the Nation's first great victory, he went out among
the dead and dying, striving to relieve the wounded, and to find
the members of his own command. Passing from group to group,
he heard a feeble, fluttering voice pronounce his name, and saw
one of his men sitting against a tree, mortally wounded by a frag
ment of shell.

" Well, Colonel, I followed that black feather of yours as long
as I could. I am glad I had one good chance at the cowardly
villains before I got hurt. We 've thrashed them awfully, and
I am willing to die now."

" I hope you are not so badly hurt. Cheer up, Martin ; I
will bring a doctor to dress your leg, and we will soon have you
on crutches."

" No, Colonel ; the doctor has seen it, and says there is no
thing to be done for me. I knew it before ; everybody feels
when death strikes them. Dr. Arnold gave me something that
has eased me of my pain, but he can't save me. Colonel, they
say my captain is killed ; and, as I may not see any of our com
pany boys, I wish you would write to my poor wife, and tell her
all about it. I have n't treated her as well as I ought ; but a
wife forgives everything, and she will grieve for me, though I did
act like a brute when I was drinking. She will be proud to know
that I fought well for my country, and died a faithful Confeder
ate soldier ; and so will my boy, my Philip, who wanted to come
with me. Tell Margaret to send him to take my place just as
soon as he is old enough. The boy will revenge me ; he has a

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 385

noble spirit. And, Colonel, be sure to tell her to tell Miss Irene
that I kept my promise to her — that I have not touched a drop
of liquor since the day she talked to me before I went out to
build Mr. Huntingdon's gin-house. God bless her sweet, pure
soul I I believe she saved me from a drunkard's grave, to fill
that of a brave soldier. I know she will never let my Margaret
suffer, as long as she lives."

" Is there anything else I can do for you, Martin ?"

" Nothing else, unless I could get a blanket, or something, to
put under my head. I am getting very weak."

"Leavens, pick up one of those knapsacks scattered about,
and bring a blanket. I promise you, Martin, I will write to
your wife ; and when I go home, if I outlive this war, I will see
that she is taken care of. I am sorry to lose you, my brave fel
low. You were one of the best sergeants in the regiment. But
remember that you have helped to win' a great battle, and your
country will not forget her faithful sons who fell at Manassa."

" Good-by, Colonel ; I should like to follow you to Washing
ton. You have been kind to us all, and I hope you will be
spared to our regiment. God bless you, Colonel Aubrey, where-
ever you go."

Russell changed him from his constrained posture to a more
comfortable one, rested his head on a knapsack and blanket,
placed his own canteen beside him, and, with a long, hard gripe
of hands, and faltering " God bless you I" the soldiers parted.
The day of horrors was shuddering to its close ; glazing eyes
were turned for the last time to the sun which set in the fiery
West ; the din and roar of the pursuit died away in the distance ;
lowering clouds draped the sky ; the groans and wails of the
wounded rose mournfully -on the reeking air ; and night and a
drizzling rain came down on the blanched corpses on the torn,
trampled, crimson plain of Manassa.

" I hate the dreadful hollow behind the little wood,
Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood-red heatb,
The red-ribbed ledges drip with a silent horror of blood,
And Echo there, whatever is asked her, answers ' Death !' ''

But all of intolerable, torture centred not there, awful as was the

It

386 MACARIA; OR,

scene. Throughout the length and breadth of the Confederacy
telegraphic despatches told that the battle was raging ; and an
army of women spent that 21st upon their knees, in agonizing
prayer for husbands and sons who wrestled for their birth
right on the far-off field of blood. Gray-haired pastors and
curly-headed children alike- besought the God of Justice to bless
the Right, to deliver our gallant band of patriots from the inso
lent hordes sent to destroy us ; and to that vast trembling vol
ume of prayer which ascended from early morning from the al
tars of the South, God lent his ear, and answered.

The people of W were subjected to painful suspense as

hour after hour crept by, and a dense crowd collected in front
of the telegraph office, whence floated an ominous red flag. An
drew waited on horseback to carry to Irene the latest intelli
gence, and during the entire afternoon she paced the colonnade,
with her eyes fixed on the winding road. At half-past five
o'clock the solemn stillness of the sultry day was suddenly broken
by a wild, prolonged shout from the town ; cheer after cheer was
caught up by the hills, echoed among the purple valleys, and
finally lost in the roar of the river. Andrew galloped up the av
enue with an extra, yet damp from the printing-press, containing
the joyful tidings that McDowell's army had been completely
routed, and was being pursued toward Alexandria. Meagre was
the account — our heroes, Bee and Bartow, had fallen. No oth
er details were given, but the premonition, " Heavy loss on our
side," sent a thrill of horror to every womanly heart, dreading to
learn the price of victory. Irene's white face flashed as she read
the despatch, and raising her hands, exclaimed :

" Oh, thank God !• thank God !"

" Shall I go back to the office ?"

" Yes ; I shall certainly get a despatch from father sometime
to-night. Go back and wait for it. Tell Mr. Rogers, the oper
ator, what you came for, and ask him I say please to let you
have it as soon as it arrives. And, Andrew, bring me any other
news that may come before my despatch."

Tediously time wore on ; the shadows on the lawn and terrace
grew longer and thinner ; the birds deserted the hedges j the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 387

pigeons forsook the colonnade and steps ; Paragon, tired of walk
ing after Irene, fell asleep on the rug ; and the slow, drowsy
tinkle of cow-bells died away among the hills.

Far off to the east the blue was hidden by gray thunderous
masses of rain-cloud, now and then veined by lightning ; and as
Irene watched their jagged, grotesque outlines, they took the
form of battling hosts. Cavalry swept down on the flanks, huge
forms heaved along the centre, and the lurid furrows ploughing
the whole from time to time, seemed indeed death-dealing flashes
of artillery. She recalled the phantom cloud-battle in the Ne
therlandish vision, and shuddered involuntarily as, in imagination,
she

" Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew
From the nations airy navies grappling in the central blue."

Gradually the distant storm drifted southward, the retreat pass
ed the horizon, a red sunset faded in the west ; rose and amber
and orange were quenched, and sober blue, with starry lights,
was over all. How the serene regal beauty of that summer
night mocked the tumultuous throbbing, the wild joy, and great
exultation of the national heart ! Mother Earth industriously
weaves and hangs about the world her radiant lovely tapestries,
pitiless of man's wails and requiems, deaf to his pa3ans. Irene
had earnestly endeavored to commit her father and Russell to the
merciful care and protection of God, and to rest in faith, ban
ishing apprehension ; but a horrible presentiment, which would
not " down" at her bidding, kept her nerves strung to their ut
most tension. As the night advanced, her face grew haggard
and the wan lips fluttered ceaselessly. Russell she regarded as
already dead to her in this world, but for her father she wrestled
desperately in spirit. Mrs. Campbell joined her, uttering hope
ful, encouraging words, and Nellie came out, with a cup of tea
on a waiter.

" Please drink your tea, just to please me, Queen. I can't
bear to look at you. In all your life I never saw you worry so.
Do sit down and rest ; you have walked fifty miles since morn
ing."

" Take it away, Nellie. I don't want it."

388 MACAKIA ; OK,

" But, child, it will be time enough to fret when you know
Mas' Leonard is hurt. Don't run to meet trouble ; it will face
you soon enough. If you won't take the tea, for pity's sake let
me get you a glass of wine."

" No ; I tell you I can't swallow anything. If you want to
help me, pray for father."

She resumed her walk, with her eyes strained in the direction
of the town.

Thus passed three more miserable hours ; then the clang of
the iron gate at the foot of the avenue fell on her aching ear ;
the tramp of horses' Hoofs and roll of wheels came up the gra
velled walk.

" Bad news I they are coming to break it to me 1" said she
hoarsely, and pressing her hands together, she leaned heavily
against one of the guardian statues which had stood so long before
the door, like ancient Herma3 at Athens. "Was the image, in
deed, prescient ? It tilted from its pedestal, and fell with a
crash, breaking into fragments. The omen chilled her, and she
stood still, with the light from the hall-lamp streaming over her.
The carriage stopped ; Judge Harris and his wife came up the
steps, followed slowly by Andrew, whose hat was slouched over
his eyes. As they approached, Irene put out her hands wist
fully.

" We have won a glorious victory, Irene, but many of our
noble soldiers are wounded. I knew you would be anxious, and
we came — "

" Is my father killed?"

" Your father was wounded. He led a splended charge."

"Wounded I No 1 he is killed ! Andrew, tell me the truth
—is father dead ?"

The faithful negro could no longer repress his grief, and sobbed
convulsively, unable to reply.

"Oh, my God ! I knew it ! I knew it !" she gasped.

The gleaming arms were thrown up despairingly, and a low,
dreary cry wailed through the stately old mansion as the orphan
turned her eyes upon Nellie and Andrew — the devoted two who
had petted her from childhood.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 380

Judge Harris loci her into the library, and his weeping wife
endeavored to offer consolation, but she stood rigid and tearless,
holding out her hand for the despatch. Finally, they gave it to
her, and she read :
" CHARLES T. HARRIS :

" Huntingdon was desperately wounded at three o'clock to
day, in making a charge. He died two hours ago. I was with

him. The body leaves to-morrow for W .

HIRAM ARNOLD."

The paper fell from her fingers ; with a dry sob she turned
from them, and threw herself on the sofa, with her face of woe

to the wall. So passed the night.

******

Four days after, a number of Major Huntingdon's friends
waited at the depot to receive the body. The train had been
detained ; it was nine o'clock at night when the cars arrived,
and the coffin was placed in a hearse and escorted to the Hill.
By Judge Harris' directions it was carried into the parlor, and
placed on the table draped for the purpose ; and when arrange
ments had been made for the funeral on the morrow, he dis
missed all but a few who were to remain during the night.

Irene sat at her window up-stairs, looking out upon the sombre
soughing pines that rose like a cloud against the starry sky,
while Grace and Salome walked about the room, crying spas
modically, and trying to utter something comforting to the still
figure, which might have been of ivory or granite, for any visi
ble sign of animation. After a time, when the bustle had
ceased, when the carriages had withdrawn, and the hurried
tread of many feet had subsided, Irene rose, and said :

*' Grace, tell your father I wish to see him."

Judge Harris came promptly.

11 1 am greatly obliged to you for all your kindness. Please take
the gentlemen into the dining-room or library, if you will stay,
and do not allow any of them to return to the parlor ; I shall
sit there to-night, and need no one."

"Oh, my child ! impossible. It would not be proper. You
are not able."

390

" I know wlmt I am able to do, and what I have resolved to
do. Be good enough to remove those gentlemen at once."

Something in her face startled him ; perhaps its frightful, '
tearless immobility ; and he silently complied.

When all was quiet, she crossed the passage, entered the
draped room, and locking the door, was alone with her dead.
The coffin stood in the centre of the floor, and upon it lay the
sword and plumed hat. She looked down on the lid where the
name was inscribed, and kissed the characters ; and, as all her
isolation and orphanage rushed upon her, she laid her head on
the table, calling mournfully upon the manly sleeper for comfort
and forgiveness.

When morning broke fully, Judge Harris knocked softly at
the door. No answer. He rapped loudly, trying the bolt. All
within was silent as the grave. He hurried around to the green
house, threw up the sash, pushed open the door, and entered, full
of undefinable alarm. The wax candles on the table and mantle
had just expired ; the smoke from one was still creeping, thread
like, to the ceiling. A white form knelt on the floor, with
clasped hands and bowed head resting against the coffin.

" Irene ! Irene 1"

She did not stir.

He looped back the curtains to admit the light, and bending
down lifted the head. The face was chill and colorless as death,
the eyes were closed, and a slender stream of blood oozed slowly
over the lips, and dripped upon the linen shroudings of the table.
She had fainted from the hemorrhage, and, taking her in his arms,
he carried her up to her own room.

CHAPTER XXXI.

" I intend to trust you with important despatches, Miss Grey
— for I have great confidence in female ingenuity, as well as fe
male heroism. The meekest of women are miniature Granvelles ;

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 391

nature made you a race of schemers. Pardon me if I ask, how
you propose to conceal the despatches ? It is no easy matter
now to run the blockade of a Southern port, especially on the
Gulf ; and you must guard against being picked up by the
Philistines."

" I am fully aware of all the risk attending my trip ; but if
you will give me the papers, prepared as I directed in my note
from Paris, I will pledge my life that they shall reach Richmond
safely. If I am captured and carried North, I have friends who
will assist me in procuring a passport to the South, and little
delay will occur. If I am searched, I can bid them defiance.
Give me the despatches, and I will show you how I intend to
take them."

Electra opened her trunk, took out a large port-folio, and se
lected from the drawings one in crayon representing the heads
of Michael Angelo's Fates. Spreading it out, face downward,
on the table, she laid the closely-written tissue paper of des
patches smoothly on the back of the thin pasteboard ; then fitted
a square piece of oil-silk on the tissue missive, and having, with a
small brush, coated the silk with paste, covered the whole with
a piece of thick drawing-paper, the edges of which were carefully
glued to those of the pasteboard. Taking a hot iron from the
grate, she passed it repeatedly over the paper, till all was
smooth and dry ; then in the centre wrote, with a pencil :
" Michael Angelo's Fates, in the Pitti Palace. Copied May 8th,
1861." From a list of figures in a ^mall note-book she added
the dimensions of the picture, and underneath all, a line from
Euripides.

Her eyes sparkled as she bent over her work, and at length,
lifting it for inspection, she exclaimed, triumphantly :

" There, sir 1 I can baffle even the Paris detective, much less
the lynx-eyed emissaries of Lincoln, Seward & Co. Are you
satisfied ? Examine it with your own hands."

" Perfectly satisfied, my dear young lady. But suppose they
should seize your trunk ? Confiscation is the cry all over the
North."

" Finding nothing suspicious or ' contraband ' about me, ex-

392 MAOAKIA ; OK,

cept my Southern birth and sympathies, they would scarcely take
possession of the necessary tools of my profession. I have no
fear, sir ; the paper is fated to reach its destination."

" Are your other despatches sealed up pictorially ?"

She laughed heartily.

"Of course not. We women are too shrewd to hazard all
upon one die."

" Well — well ! You see that we trust important data to your
cunning fingers. You leave London to-morrow for South
ampton ; will arrive just in time for the steamer. Good-by,
Miss Grey. When I get back to the Confederacy I shall cer
tainly find you out. I want you to paint the portraits of my
wife and children. From the enviable reputation you have al
ready acquired, I am proud to claim you for my countrywoman.
God bless you, and lead you safely home. Good-by, Mr. Mitch
ell. Take care of her, and let me hear from you on your arri
val."

From the hour when tidings of the fall of Sumter reach
ed Europe, Electra had resolved to cut short the studies
which she had pursued so vigorously since her removal to Flo
rence, and return to the South. But the tide of travel set to
ward, not from European shores, and it was not until after re
peated attempts to find some one homeward-bound, that she
learned of Eric Mitchell's presence in Paris, and his intention of

soon returning to W . She wrote at once, requesting his

permission to place herself under his* care. It was cordially ac
corded ; and, bidding adieu to Italy, she joined him without de
lay, despite the pleadings of Mr., Mrs. Young, and Louisa, who
had recently arrived at Florence, and sincerely mourned a sepa
ration under such painful circumstances.

Eric was detained in Paris by a severe attack of the old dis
ease, but finally reached London — whence, having completed
their arrangements, they set off for Southampton, and took pas
sage in the Trent, which was destined subsequently to play a
prominent part in the tangled role of Diplomacy, and to furnish
the most utterly humiliating of many chapters of the pusillanim
ity, sycophancy, and degradation of the Federal government.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 393

The voyage proved pleasant and prosperous ; and, once at
Havana, Eric anxiously sought an opportunity of testing the
vaunted efficiency of the blockade. Unfortunately, two steamers
had started the week previous, one to New Orleans, the other to
Charleston ; only sailing vessels were to be found, and about the
movements of these impenetrable mystery seemed wrapped.
On the afternoon of the third day after their arrival, Eric, wea
ried with the morning's fruitless inquiry, was resting on the sofa
at the hotel, while Electra watched the tide of passers-by, when
Willis, Eric's servant, came in quickly, and walked up to the

" Master, Captain Wright is here. I asked him to come and
see you, and he is waiting down stairs."

" Captain Wright ?"

" Yes, sir ; the captain you liked so much at Smyrna — the
one who gave you that pipe, sir."

" Oh, I remember ! Yes — yes ; and he is here ? Well,
show him up."

" Master, from the way he watches the clouds, I believe he is
about to run out. Maybe he can take us ?"

" Willis is invaluable to you, Mr. Mitchell," said Electra, as
the negro left the room.

" He is indeed. He is eyes, ears, crutches, everything to me,
and never forgets anything or anybody. He has traveled over
half the world with me — could desert me, and be free at any mo
ment he felt inclined to da so — but is as faithful now as the day
on which I first left home with him."

" Ah, Captain ! this is an unexpected pleasure. I am heart
ily glad to see you. Miss Grey — Captain Wright. Take a
seat."

The captain looked about thirty, possibly older ; wore a gray
suit and broad straw hat, and, when the latter was tossed on the
floor, showed a handsome, frank, beaming face, with large, clear,
smiling blue eyes, whose steady light nothing human could dim.
His glossy, reddish-brown hair was thrust back from a forehead
white and smooth as a woman's, but the lower portion of the
face was effectually bronzed by exposure to the vicissitudes of

17*

394 MACARIA; OK,

climate and weather ; and Electra noticed a peculiar nervous
restlessness of manner, as though he were habitually on the
watch.

" I am astonished to see you in Havana, Mitchell. Where
did you come from ?"

" Just from Paris, where bad health drove me, after I bade
you good-by at Smyrna. What are you doing here ?"

" I suppose you have heard of our great victory at Manassa ?"

" Yes ; and am rejoiced beyond all expression, but feel anx
ious to see a full list of our loss. I had a brother-in-law in that
engagement."

" His name ?"

" Huntingdon — Major Huntingdon, of W , in ."

" I have seen no mention of his name in the papers, but our
loss in officers was very heavy. We can ill afford to spare Bee,
Bartow, and Fisher ; and I want the war carried on till we burn
every public building in Washington, and raise a monument
to our dead on the site of the capitol. We owe this debt and we
must pay it."

" Have you a vessel here, captain ?"

" Of course I have ! Don't you suppose that I would be in
the army if I could not serve my country better by carrying in
arms and ammunition ? I have* already made two successful
trips with my schooner — ran in, despite the blockaders. I
am negotiating for a steamer, but until I can get one ready I
intend to sail on."

" When did you arrive here last ?"

" About ten days ago. They chased me for nearly fifteeu
miles, but I stole out of sight before morning."

" When do you expect to leave here ?"

The captain darted a swift, searching glance at Electra, rose,
and closed the door, saying, with a light laugh : •

" Take care, man ! You are not exactly deer-hunting or crab-
catching in a free country ! Mind that, and talk softly. I am
watched here ; the Federal agents all know me, and there are
several Federal vessels in port. When do I expect to leave ?
Well, to-night, if the weather thickens up, as I think it will,

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 395

and there is evident sign of a storm. Most sailors wait for
fair weather ; we blockade-runners for foul."

" Oh, Captain ! do take us with you 1" said Electra, eagerly.

" What ! In a rickety schooner, in the teeth of a gale ?
Besides,- Miss, I am taking a cargo of powder this trip, and if I
am hard pressed I shall blow up vessel and all, rather than suffer
it to fall .into Yankee clutches. You would not relish going
up to heaven after the fashion of a rocket, would you ?"

" I am willing, sir, to risk everything you threaten, rather than
wait here indefinitely."

" Can't you take us, Wright — Miss Grey, Willis, and myself?
We are very impatient to get home."

" But I have no accommodation for passengers. I should
be ashamed to ask Miss Grey aboard my little egg-shell — every
thing is so small and comfortless. I have not lost all my
politeness and chivalry, if I am a rough-looking Confederate sailor.
I assure you I have every disposition to oblige you, but really it
would not be right to subject a lady to such a trip as I may have
before me."

" But, Captain, if, with all these facts staring me in the face, I
appeal to your chivalry, and beg of you to allow me to undergo
the hardships incident to the trip, in preference to uncertain
delay here. If I prefer to run the gauntlet in your schooner, you
surely will not refuse me ?"

" Really, Miss, I don't know what to say. I thought I would
frighten you out of the notion — for, to tell you the truth, I am
always so much more anxious whan I have ladies' lives in my hands.
I pledge you my word I would sooner run afoul of a Federal frig
ate than see you suffer for want of anything. I can't even set a
table half the time."

" But I suppose, sir, we could contrive to live a few days
without eating at a regular table. I will take some cheese and
crackers and fruit along in a basket, if that will ease your mind.
Do waive your scruples, and consent to take charge of us."

" I add my prayers to hers. Wright, do take us. We shall
not mind privations or inconvenience."

" Well, then, understand distinctly that, if anything happens,

396 MAC ARIA ; OR,

you are not to blame me. If the young lady gets sea-sick,
or freckled, or sun-burnt, or starved to death, or blown up, or
drowned, or, worse than all, if the Yankee thieves by the way
side take her as a prize, it will be no fault of mine whatever, and
I tell you now I shall not lay it on my conscience."

" * Raw-head and bloody bones' never frightened me, even
when I was a little child, sir ; so you may reconcile -yourself to
the prospect of having us compagnons de voyage."

" Suppose a small hand-to-hand fight forms a part of the
programme ?"

" In that case, I have a splendid brace of pistols, which were
given to me before I left Europe."

" Do you know how to handle them ?"

" Moderately well. I will practice as we go along, by making
a target of one of your small ropes."

"I see you are incorrigible ; and I suppose I must let you go
with me, bongre malgrc."

11 Bongre let it be, by all means. I am inexpressibly impatient
to get home."

" Wright, to what part are you bound ?"

" Ah ! that is more than I can tell you. The winds must de
cide it. I can't try the Carolinas again this trip ; they are watch
ing for me too closely there. New Orleans is rather a longer run
than I care to make, and I shall keep my eyes on Apalachicola
and Mobile."

" What object have you in starting to-night, particularly
in the face of a gale ?"

Again the captain's eyes swept round the room, to guard
against any doors that might be ajar.

" As I told you before, I am watched here. The Federals
have a distinguished regard for me, and I have to elude suspi
cion, as well as run well, when I do get out. Two hours ago a
Federal armed steamer, which has been coaling here, weighed
anchor, and has probably left the harbor, to cruise between this
place and Key West. As they passed, one of the crew yelled
out to me that they would wait outside, and catch me certainly
this time ; that I had made my last jaunt to Dixie, etc. I have

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 397

carefully put out the impression that I need some repairs, which
cannot be finished this week ; and have told one or two confi
dentially, that I could not leave until the arrival of a certain
cargo from Nassau, which is due to-morrow. That Puritanical
craft which started off at noon does not expect me for several
days, and to-night I shall rub my fingers and sail out right in
her wake. • Ha I ha 1 how they will howl. What gnashing of
teeth there will be, when they hear of me in a Confederate port ?
And now about your baggage. Have everthing ready ; I will
show Willis the right wharf, and at dark he must bring the
trunks down ; I will be on the watch, and send a boat ashore.
About sunset you and Miss Grey can come aboard, as if for a
mere visit. I must go and make what little preparation I can
for your comfort."

Nothing occurred to frustrate the plan ; Eric and Electra
were cordially received, and at dusk Willis and the baggage
arrived punctually. The schooner was lying some distance from
the wharf, all sails down, and apparently contemplating no
movement. With darkness came a brisk, stiffening wind, and
clouds shutting out even dim star-light. At ten o'clock, all
things being in readiness, the captain went on deck ; very soon
after the glimmering lights of the city, then the frowning walls
of Moro, were left behind, and the " Dixie" took her way silently
and swiftly seaward.

About two o'clock, being unable to sleep, from the rocking of
the vessel, Electra, knowing that Eric was still on deck, crept
up the steps in the darkness, for the lights had been extin
guished. The captain was passing, but paused, saying, in a
whisper :

" Is that you, Miss Grey ? Come this way, and I will show
you something."

He grasped her hand, led her to the bow, where Eric was si1>
ting on a coil of rope, and, pointing straightforward, added, in
the same suppressed tone :

" Look right ahead — you see a light ? The Philistines are
upon us I Look well, and you will see a dark, irregular, mov
ing mass j that is the steamer of which I told you. They have

398 MAC ARIA ; OK,

found out at last that there is going to be all sorts of a gale, and
as they can't ride it like my snug, dainty little egg-shell, they
are putting back with all possible speed. Twenty minutes ago
they were bearing down on me ; now, you see that they will
pass to our left. What a pity they don't know their neigh
bors 1"

" Do you think that they will not see you ?"

" Certainly ! with sails down, and lights out, there is nothing
to be seen on such a night as this. There ! don't you hear her
paddles ?"

" No. I hear nothing but the roar of the wind and water."

" Ah ! that is because your ears are not trained like mine.
Great Neptune ! how she labors already ! Now ! be silent."

On came the steamer, which Electra's untrained eyes, almost
blinded by spray, could barely discern ; and her heart beat like
a muffled drum as it drew nearer and nearer. Once she heard a
low, chuckling laugh of satisfaction escape the captain ; then,
with startling distinctness, the ringing of a bell was borne from
the steamer's deck.

" Four bells — two o'clock. How chagrined they will be to
morrow, when they find out they passed me without paying their
respects !" whispered the captain.

Gradually the vessel receded, the dark mass grew indistinct,
the light flickered, and was soon lost to view, and the sound of
the laboring machinery was drowned in the roar of the waves.

" Hurrah ! for the 'Dixie !' Strike a light below, Hutchin-
son, and get some glasses. We must have a little champagne in
honor of this performance. Come down, Miss Grey, and you
too, Mitchell ; the water is beginning to break very near your
feet. Oh ! but you must take some wine, Miss Grey. I can't
have you looking like a ghost when I land you on Confederate
soil. People will swear I starved you, and nothing humili
ates me half so much as an imputation on my hospitality. Here's
to the Confederacy ! and to our Beauregard and Johnston !
God bless them both !"

Electra drank the wine ; and, before he went back on deck,
the captain made a comfortable place for her on the sofa in the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 399

little cabin. The storm increased until it blew a perfect hurri
cane, and the schooner rolled and creaked, now and then shiver
ing in every timber. It was utterly impossible to sleep, and
Eric, who was suffering from a headache, passed a miserable
night. In the white sickly dawn the captain looked in again,
and Electra thought that no ray of sunshine could be more radi
ant or cheering than his joyous, noble face.

" Good-morning. I wonder if I look as much like a drenched
lily as you do, Miss Grey ? Doubtless, much more like a
drenched sunflower, you think. Were you alarmed all night ?"

" No, sir ; I knew that we were not in the hands of Pa-
linurus."

"Oh ! thank you for your confidence ! I will tell my wife of
that, if I live to see her again. I certainly did not fall over
board, which was lucky — for, though I rather pride myself on
my proficiency as a swimmer, I am very sceptical concerning the
mythologic three days performance. Mitchell, I hope a good
cup of hot coffee will set your head straight."

" How is the storm ? Any abatement ?" asked Eric.

" Not a whit yet ; but the wind has veered a little, and I
think that by twelve o'clock it will break away."

" Captain, can I go on deck for a little while ?"

" Whew ! My dear young lady, you would not be able to
catch your breath again for a half-hour. You could not stand a
moment ; spray and wind would blind you, and the waves would
take you overboard — wash you away."

" But I want to see a genuine violent storm at sea. I shall
probably never have another opportunity."

" I will answer for the genuineness of this specimen, if you
really want to look out. Wrap a shawl round your shoulders ;
give me your hand ; step up ; look for yourself. No counter
feit — take my word for that. Squally enough, is n't it ?"

A wild howling waste of waters leaped and rolled like leaden
mountains against a wan drab sky, where dun smoke-colored
clouds trailed sullenly before the wind. Foam-crowned walls
towered on either side the schooner, leaned over as if to meet arid

4:00 MAC ART A ; OR,

crush it, and broke in wreaths of spray about the deck, while
ghastly sheet-lightning glimmered ceaselessly.

" Old Father Neptune must be in a tearing rage with his
pretty Amphitrite, to churn up all this commotion. Don't you
think you have seen enough, Miss Grey ? You are getting wet."

He saw her face flush and her eyes sparkle strangely.

" If I could only paint this sea I If I could only put that roll
and sweep of waves yonder upon canvas ! I could afford to die
young. Oh ! for the brush of Clarkson Stanfield for one hour 1
to fix that sea — ' where it gathers itself into a huge billow, front
ing the blast like an angry brow, corrugated in agony and rage.'
My father was a sailor, and I think I must have inherited rny lovo
of the sea from him."

" Where is he now ?"

" Dead — long ago — before I was born. His ship, the ' Elec-
tra,' went down with all on board."

" And your mother ?"

" Named me for the wreck, and followed my father when I
was four months old."

As swirls of spray dashed in her face,

"Her eyes had looks like xmsoned birds."

" Captain, I have read somewhere of a Dutch painter who, in
his passionate longing to portray accurately such scenes as this,
had himself lashed to the deck of a vessel during a terrific gale,
where he could study and note the peculiar aspects, so difficult
to render correctly. I am tempted to follow his example. Doubt
less you could furnish a rope for such a purpose."

" Not even a bit of twine. Come down instantly, Miss Grey.
I can't afford the luxury of a physician on board ; and if you
should be so unfortunate as to catch a catarrh or spell of pneu
monia by this piece of imprudence, I should be distressed to death,
and frightened out of my wits. Come down at once."

About noon the fury of the gale subsided, the sun looked out
through rifts in the scudding clouds, and toward night fields of
quiet blue were once more visible. By next morning the weather
had cleared up, with a brisk westerly wind ; but the sea still

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 401

rolled heavily ; and Eric, unable to bear the motion, kept below,
loth to trust himself on his feet. Electra strove to while away
the tedious time by reading aloud to him ; but many a yearning
look was cast toward the deck, and finally she left him with a
few books, and ran up to the open air.

On the afternoon of the third day after leaving Havana, she
was sitting on a buffalo-robe stretched near the stern, watching
the waves and graceful curls of foam that marked the schooner's
path, and forgetful for a season of the fifth volume of " Modern
Painters," which lay open beside her. The wind had blown back
her straw hat, and her short black hair fluttered about a face fully
exposed to view.

The captain had been tuning a guitar for some moments, and
now drew near, throwing himself down on the buffalo-robe.

" What are you staring at so solemnly ? Tell me what you
are thinking of."

" If you are really curious you are welcome to know. I wag
only watching the wake of the vessel, and thinking of that beau
tiful simile of Coleridge in the ' Friend :' ' Human experience,
like the stern-lights of a ship at sea, illumines only the path we
have passed over/ "

Her clear olive cheeks burned, and her great shadowy elfish
eyes kindled as was their wont when her feelings- were deeply
stirred.

" I believe you are an artist, Miss Grey."

" I am trying to become one, sir. Before we leave you, I want
you to examine some of my sketches, and select the one which you
like best. It will afford me great pleasure to paint it for you,
as a feeble token of niy gratitude and appreciation of your kind
ness."

" Thank you. I hope the c|ay is not distant when I shall have
my wife with me once more, then I shall beg you to paint her
portrait for me."

" Where is she ?"

" At our home in Maryland."

" Are you a Marylander, Captain ?"

" Oh, yes ! but that is no place for true men now. Nothing

402 MACARIA; OR,

can be accomplished there at this juncture, and those who are
true to the Constitution and the South have joined the Confeder
ate service in one form or another. We shall have to hang that
infamous traitor, Hicks, before we can free the state ; and it is
because I appreciate the lamentable scarcity of arms and ammuni
tion, that I am engaged in my present business. If I arm ten
thousand men, it will be better for our glorious cause than if
I handled a musket myself. Poor, down-trodden, hand-cuffed,
humiliated Maryland ! Miss Grey, you have probably not heard
our favorite new song, ' Maryland, my Maryland V I comfort
myself by singing it now and then, while hundreds of miles of
stormy sea toss between me and my home. "Would you like to
hear it ?"

" By all means. In Europe I, of course, heard nothing."
He struck a few full, rich chords, and sang the stirring words,
as only a true Marylaiider can, who feels all the wrongs and ig
nominy of his state.

His fine eyes were full of tears as he began the last prophetic
verse ; and when it was concluded, he sprang up and repeated,
triumphantly :

" She breathes— she burns ! She '11 come ! she '11 come !
Maryland ! My Maryland !"

" If such be the feeling of her sons, Captain, she will soon
* gird her beauteous limbs with steel,' and as a state come out
proudly from amid the Abomination of Desolation. The music
is peculiarly adapted to the burden of the noble thoughts, and
invests them with extraordinary power and pathos. The won
derful effect of national lyrics in such stormy times as these, ex
emplifies the truth of the admirable remark, which I have seen
yery felicitously applied to Beranger, but which was first quoted,
I believe, by Fletcher of Saltoun : ' If a man were permitted to
make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws
of a nation.' Oh ! what a sunset ! I never saw anything from
Fiesole comparable to that."

The sun had gone clown below the water-line. From the ze
nith, eastward, the sky was violet-hued ; in the west, light cloud

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 403

flakes had gathered in fleecy masses and seini-spiral whiffs ; some
burned like dashes of vermilion in lakes of beryl or chrysoprase,
others, in purple pomp, fringed their edges with gold ; snowy
mountain ranges were tipped with fire, pillared cathedrals with
domes of silver ; and, beneath all, glared a liquid sea of rippling
flame. A sky which only Ruskin could describe, or Turner
paint.

" The West is an altar, where earth daily gathers up her gar
landed beauty in sacrifical offerings to God. Agamemnon-like,
she gives her loveliest."

These words seemed to pass the girl's lips unconsciously, as
she leaned forward with hands clasped on her lap ; and smiling
at the breathless eagerness of her face, and the, to him, incom
prehensible enthusiasm she evinced, the captain said :

" If you are so very fond of such things, I wish you could see
a midnight sky in the tropics as I have seen it, sailing between
Rio Janeiro and Baltimore. I believe I have not much senti
ment in my nature, but many % night I have lain awake on deck,
looking up at the stars that glowed, burned — I hardly know how
to express it — like great diamonds clustered on black velvet.
There are splendid constellations there, which you have never
seen. When we win independence and peace, I intend to have
a fino steamship of my own, and then I shall ask you to make a
voyage with me as far- as Uruguay. I will show you scenery in
Brazil that will put you on your knees in adoration."

" I shall accept the invitation when peace is made. Captain
Wright, have you any children ?"

" Yes — two ; a son and daughter ; the eldest five years old."

" Then train them up to love sunsets, stars, flowers, clouds of
all kinds. We are creatures of education, and I hold it the im
perative duty of parents to teach their children to appreciate the
beautiful things in this world, which God has given to gild life
with. There is grief and gloom enough at best ; and so much
innocent, exquisite joy may be extracted from a thousand sources,
that it seems philosophic, as well as a sacred duty, to reap the
great harvest of happiness which calls to us from a proper ap
preciation of Beauty. I do not mean learned disquisitions, or

404: MACARIA; OR,

tedious, scientific terminology. A child can admire, love an astro
or a magnolia, without understanding botany ; may watch for
and delight in such a sky as that, without classifying the clouds,
or designating the gorgeous tints in genuine artistic phraseology;
may clap its little hands, and shout with joy, in looking at the
stars, without knowing Orion from Ursa Major. I have often
frieen laughed at, and requested not to talk nonsense, when I have
expressed these views ; have been sneered at as an enthusiast ;
but the longer T live the more earnest becomes my conviction of
the truth of my opinion. The useful, the material necessities of
life, require little study ; our comfort involves attention to them ;
but the more ideal sources of peace and enjoyment demand care
and cultivation. I am an orphan ; I had no parental hand to
guide my thoughts and aspirations to the beautiful in all its pro
tean phases ; my life has nob been spent in the most flowery
paths ; but because, as a lonely child, I learned to derive plea
sure from communion with Nature and Art, I have seasons of
rapturous enjoyment which all California could not purchase.
The useful, the practical, and the beautiful are not opposed —
are even united — if people would onty open their eyes to the
truth. I am no morbid sentimentalist or dreaming enthusiast ; if
nature intended me for such, a cold matter-of-fact world has cheat
ed me out of my birthright. I live, sustain myself by my art,
as you by your sailor's craft ; it feeds and clothes my body as
well as my mind. But I can't bear to walk through a grand
metropolitan cathedral of wonderful and varied loveliness, and
see the endless caravan of men and women tramping along its
glorious aisle, looking neither to the right nor left, oblivious
of surrounding splendors, gazing stolidly down at the bag of
coins in their hands, or the bales of cotton, or hogsheads of su
gar or tobacco, they are rolling before them. I long to lay my
hand on their shoulders, to stay their hurrying steps, and whis
per, gently : ' Fellow-pilgrims, brothers, sisters, look up at the
glories that canopy you. Bend your knees one instant before'
yonder shrines of Beauty. Oh ! aesthetics is a heavenly ladder,
where, like Jacob's angels, pure thoughts and holy aspirations
come from and go to God. Whatever tends to elevate and en-

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 405

noble the soul is surely useful ; and love of beauty is a mighty
educational engine, which all may handle if they will. Captain,
sow the seeds of appreciation early in your children's hearts, and
they will thank you when you are an old silver-haired man."

Across that rosy sea tripped magic memories. The sailor's
heart found its distant haven in the joyful, tender welcome of his
blue-eyed wife — the lisping, birdish tone of his fair-browed, curly-
headed children, stretching their little dimpled arms to clasp his
neck ; and to the artist-woman came melancholy thoughts of by
gone years shrouded in crumbling garlands — of hopes and fever
ish aspirations that had found their graves — of her -future cheer
less life, her lonely destiny.

For some time both were silent ; then the captain roused him
self from his dream of home, and, passing his hand over his
eyes, said :

" Well, Miss Grey, I shall place you on Confederate soil to
morrow, God willing."

" Then you are going to Mobile ?"

" Yes ; I shall try hard to get in there early in the morning.
You will know your fate before many hours."

11 Do you regard this trial as particularly hazardous ?"

" Of course ; the blockading squadrons grow more efficient
and expert every day, and some danger necessarily attends every
trial. Mobile ought to be pretty well guarded by this time."

The wind was favorable, and the schooner ploughed its way
swiftly through the autumn night. The captain did not close
his eyes ; and just about daylight Electra and Eric, aroused by
a sudden running to and fro, rose, and simultaneously made their
appearance on deck.

" What is the matter, Wright ?"

" Matter ! why, look ahead, my dear fellow, and see where we
are. Yonder is Sand Island light-house, and a little to the
right is Fort Morgan. But the fleet to the left is hardly six
miles off, and it will be a tight race if I get in."

There was but a glimmering light, rimming the East, where
two or three stars burned with indescribable brilliance and
beauty, and in the gray haze and wreaths of mist which, curled

406

over the white-capped waves Electra could distinguish nothing
The air was chill, and she said, with a slight shiver :

" I can't see any light-house."

" There is,- of course, no light there, these war-times, but you
"see that tall, white tower, don't you ? There, look through my
glass. That low dark object yonder is the outline of the fort ;
you will see it more distinctly after a little. Now, look right
where my finger points ; that is the flag-staff. Look up over
head — I have hoisted our flag, and pretty soon it will be a tar
get for those dogs. Ha ! Mitchell ! Hutchinson ! they see us !
There is some movement among them. They are getting ready
to cut us off this side of the Swash channel ! We shall see."

He had crowded on all sail, and the little vessel dashed
through the light fog as if conscious of her danger, and resolved
to sustain herself gallantly. Day broke fully, sea and sky took
the rich orange tint which only autumn mornings give, and in
this glow a Federal frigate and sloop slipped from their moor
ings, and bore down threateningly on the graceful bounding
schooner.

"But for the fog, which puzzled me about three o'clock, I
should have run by unseen, and they would never have known
it till I was safe in Navy cove. We will beat them, though,
as it is, by about twenty minutes. An hour ago I was afraid I
should have to beach her. Are you getting frightened, Miss
Grey ?"

" Oh, no ! I would not have missed this for any consideration.
How rapidly the Federal vessels move 1 They are gaining on
us."

Her curling hair, damp with mist, clustered around her fore
head ; she had wrapped a scarlet crape shawl about her shoul
ders, and stood, with her red lips apart and trembling, watching
the exciting race.

" Look at the frigate 1"

There was a .flash at her bow, a curl of white smoke rolled up,
then a heavy roar, and a thirty-two pounder round shot fell about
n hundred yards to the right of the vessel.

A yell of defiance rent the air from the crew of the " Dixie"

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 407

— hats were waved — and, snatching off her shawl, Electra shook
its bright folds to the stiffening breeze, while her hot cheeks
matched them in depth of color.

Another and another shot was fired in quick succession, and
so accurate had they become, that fthe last whizzed through the
rigging, cutting one of the small ropes.

" Humph ! they are getting saucy," said the captain, looking
up coolly, when the yells of his crew ceased for a moment — and,
with a humorous twinkle in his fine eyes, he added :

" Better go below, Miss Grey ; they might clip one of your
curls next time. The vandals see you, I dare say, and your red flag
stings their Yankee pride a little."

11 Do you suppose they can distinguish me ?"

" Certainly. Through my glass I can see the gunners at work,
and, of course, they see you. Should not be surprised if they aimed
specially at you. That is the style of New England chivalry."

Whiz — whiz ; both sloop and frigate were firing now in good
earnest, and one shell exploded a few yards from the side of the
little vessel, tossing the foam and water over the group on deck.

" They think you have hardly washed your face yet, Miss
Grey ; and are courteously anxious to perform the operation for
you. But the game is up. Look yonder 1 Hurrah for Dixie !
and Fort Morgan 1"

" From the dim flag-staff battery bellowed a gun."

The boom of a columbiad from the fort shook the air like
thunder, and gave to the blockaders the unmistakable assurance,
11 Thus far, and no farther."

The schooner strained on its way ; a few shot fell behind, and
soon, under the frowning bastions of the fort, whence the Con
federate banner floated so proudly on the balmy Gulf breeze,
spreading its free folds like an aegis, the gallant little vessel
passed up the channel, and came to anchor in Mobile bay, amid
the shouts of crew and garrison, and welcomed by a salute of
five guns.

408 MACAEIA; OK,

CHAPTER XXXII.

IMMEDIATELY after her arrival in Mobile, Electra prepared to
forward her despatches by Captain Wright, whose business called
him to Richmond before his return to Cuba ; and an examination
of them proved that the expedient resorted to was perfectly
successful. By moistening the edges of the drawing-paper, the
tissue missive was drawn out uninjured, and, to Eric's surprise,
she removed the carefully-stitched blue silk which lined the tops
of her traveling gauntlets, and extracted similar despatches, all
of which were at once transmitted to the seat of government.
While waiting for a boat, they heard the painful tidings of
Major Huntingdon's death, which increased Eric's impatience to

reach W . The remainder of the journey was sad, and

four days after leaving the Gulf City the lights of W and

roar of the Falls simultaneously greeted the spent travelers.
Having telegraphed of his safe arrival, the carriage was waiting
at the depot, and Andrew handed to Electra a note from his
mistress, requesting her to come at once to her house, instead of
going to the hotel. Eric added earnest persuasion, and with
some reluctance, the artist finally consented. They were pre
pared for the silent, solemn aspect of the house, and for the
mourning-dress of the orphan, but not for the profound calm, the
melancholy, tearless composure with which she received them.
Mental and physical suffering had sadly changed her. The oval
face was thinner, and her form had lost its roundness, but the
countenance retained its singular loveliness, and the mesmeric
splendor of the large eyes seemed enhanced. Of her father she
did not speak, but gave her uncle a written statement of all the
facts which she had been able to gather concerning the circum
stances of his death ; and thus a tacit compact was formed to
make no reference to the painful subject.

As she accompanied Electra to the room prepared for her, on
the night of her arrival, the latter asked, with ill-concealed
emotion :

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 409

" Irene, can you tell me anything about Russell ? I am very
anxious to hear something of him."

Irene placed the silver lamp on the table, and standing in its
glow, answered, quietly :

" He was wounded in the arm at Manassa, but retains
command of his regiment, and is doing very well. Dr. Arnold
is the regimental surgeon, and in one of his letters to me he
mentioned that your cousin's wound was not serious."

" I am going to him immediately."

" Unfortunately, you will not be allowed to do so. The
wounded were removed to Richmond as promptly as possible,
but your cousin remained at Manassa, where ladies are not per
mitted."

" Then I will write to him to meet me in Richmond."

Irene made no reply, and, watching her all the while, Electra
asked :

" When did you see him last ? How did he look ?"

" The day before he started to Richmond. He was very well,
I believe, but looked harassed and paler than usual. He is so
robust, however, that I think you need entertain no apprehension
concerning his health."

The inflexible features, the low, clear, firm voice were puzzling,
and Electra's brow thickened and darkened as she thought :

" Her father is dead now ; there is no obstacle remaining.
She must love him, and yet she gives no sign of interest."

" Good-night, Electra ; I hope you will sleep well after your
fatiguing journey. Do not get up early. I will send your
breakfast to your room, whenever you wish it."

She turned away, but the artist stepped before her and caught
up both her hands.

" Oh, Irene ! it grieves me to see you looking so. Talk to
me about your, great pent-up sorrows, and it will relieve you."

" My sorrows cannot be talked away."

" Graves never give back their dead. Good-night, my dear
Electra."

Electra looked at her sadly, wistfully ; and, suddenly throw
ing her arms about the queenly figure, kissed her white, cold

18

4:10 MACARIA; OR,

cheek. Irene returned the caress, withdrew from the embrace,
and passed to her own room.

Jealous women are rarely generous toward their rivals, and
Electra's exacting, moody character rendered it peculiarly diffi
cult for her to stifle her feelings. She would most certainly have
cordially hated any other woman who stood between her and her
cousin's heart ; but before the nobility, the loftiness, the cool
purity of Irene's soul, her own restless spirit bowed down with
emotions nearly akin to adoration. The solemn serenity of that
pale brow awed and soothed the fevered, tumultuous nature of
the artist ; and she had schooled herself to look upon her as
Russell's future wife — with a pang of pain, it is true, but certainly
with no touch of bitterness. She could endure that he should
love so devotedly one who ministered at the shrine of Christian
charity, and whose hands threw down, wherever she moved, the
blessed largess of peace, contentment, and plenty. They stood
in strange relationship, these two women. One ignorant of the
absorbing love of the other for the man to whom she had given
her heart long years ago ; and that other conscious of an undy
ing affection, which she silently inurued in her own bosom.

Two days later, they sat together before one of the parlor
windows. Electra was engaged in tearing off and rolling band
ages, while Irene slowly scraped lint from a quantity of old linen,
which filled a basket at her side. Neither had spoken for some
time ; the sadness of their occupation called up gloomy thoughts;
but finally Electra laid down a roll of cloth, and, interlacing her
slight fingers, said :

" Irene, as you sit there you remind me of the ' Cameo
Bracelet.1 You have seen it, of course ?"

"Yes ; it is one of the finest imaginative creations I have
ever read ; and I can not divest myself of the apprehension that,
it adumbrates the fate of New Orleans."

Electra watched the motion of her companion's fingers, and in
a rich, musical voice repeated the words, beginning :

" She's sifting lint for the brave who bled,
And I watch her fingers float and flow,
Over the linen, as, thread by thread,
It flakes to her lap like snow."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 411

" Irene, the women of the South must exercise an important
influence in determining our national destiny ; and because I felt
this so fully, I hurried home to share the perils, and privations,
and trials of my countrywomen. It seems to me that no true
son or daughter can linger in Europe now, with the broad ocean
surging between them and the bloody soil of their native land. It
is not my privilege to enter the army, and wield a sword or mus
ket ; but I am going to true womanly work — into the crowded
hospitals, to watch faithfully over sick and wounded."

" I approve your plan, think it your duty, and wish that I could
start to Richmond with you to-morrow — for I believe that in this
way we may save valuable lives. You should, as you have said,
go on at once ; you have nothing to keep you ; your work
is waiting for you there. But my position is different ; I have
many things to arrange here before I can join you. I want to
see the looms at work on the plantation ; and am going down
next week with uncle Eric, to consult with the overseer about
several changes which I desire made concerning the negroes.
When all this is accomplished, I too shall come into the hospitals."

" About what time may I expect you ?"

" Not until you see me ; but at the earliest practicable day."

" Your uncle objects very strenuously to such a plan, does ho
not ?"

•"He will acquiesce at the proper time. Take care ! you are
making your bandages too wide."

" A long dark vista stretches before the Confederacy. I can
not, like many persons, feel sanguine of a speedy termination of
the war."

" Yes — a vista lined with the bloody graves of her best sons ;
but beyond glimmers Freedom — Independence. In that light
we shall walk without stumbling. Deprived of liberty we
cannot exist, and its price was fixed when the foundations of
time were laid. I believe the termination of the, war to be con
tingent only on the method of its prosecution. Agathocles, with
thirteen thousand men, established a brilliant precedent, which
Scipio followed so successfully in the second Punic war ; and
when our own able generals are permitted to emulate those

412 MACAEIA; OK,

illustrious leaders of antiquity, then, and I fear not until then,
shall we be able to dictate terms of peace."

" Your devotion, then, is unshaken, even by your sorrows."

" Unshaken ! Does the precious blood of a sacrifice unset;. _
the holy foundation of the altar ?"

" But, Irene, if you could have foreseen all that Secession has
cost you ?"

The mourner raised her eyes from the snowy heap of lint, and
answered with impressive earnestness and pathos :

" Could I have foreseen the spirit which actuates the North —
the diabolical hate and fiendishness which its people have manifested
— and had I known that resistance would have cost the lives of
all in the Confederacy, I should have urged Secession as the July
door of escape from political bondage. Rather would I have
men, women, and children fill one wide common grave, than live
in subjection to, or connection with, a people so depraved,
unscrupulous, and Godless. Electra, national, like individual
life, which is not noble, is not worth the living. A people who
can survive their liberty, are beneath contempt ; and to-day,
desolate though I am, I would sooner take my place by my
father's side, than recall him to live a subject of the despotic
government at Washington. Even when I believed the friendly
professions of thousands at the North — when I believed in the ex
istence of a powerful constitutional and conservative party — I was,
from the beginning, a Secessionist ; and now that the mask
of political cant is strippe'd from them, I am more than ever
convinced of the correctness of my views, and the absolute neces
sity of the step we took. The ultimate result can never effect
the question of the right and propriety of Secession, though
it may demonstrate the deplorable consequences of our procras
tination. In attestation of the necessity of separation stand the
countless graves of our dear and gallant dead. I look to a just
God to avenge them, and deliver us."

" But do you still cling to a belief in the possibility of Re
publican forms of Government ? This is a question which
constantly disquiets me."

" My faith in -th^t possibility & &JU&akfi9' JE^t-ir

ALTARS OP SACRIFICE. 413

gation I certainly expected, hoped for, on the part of our people ;
and I still feel assured that the great masses are capable
of patriotism as sublime as the world ever witnessed, and that
our noble armies have had no equal in the history of our race.
Nevertheless, it is apparent to those who ponder the aspect
of public affairs that demagogism crawls along its customary
sinuous path, with serpent-eyes fastened on self-aggrandizement.
The- pure ore of our country will be found in the ranks of our
armies ; and the few scheming politicians, plotting for position,
for offices of emolument in civil or military departments, will
prove the dross in the revolutionary crucible. I have no
apprehension for our future as long as demagogism and nepotism
can be kept clown ; for out of these grow innumerable evils — not
the least of which is the intrusting of important posts to the
hands of men who have none of the requisites, save their relation
ship to, or possession of, the favor of those in authority. If the
nation will but mark the unworthy sons whose grasping, selfish,
ambition will not even be restrained in hours of direst peril to the
cause, and brand them with Mene, Mene, we shall yet teach the
world that self-government is feasible."

" But in Europe, whgre the subject is eagerly canvassed, the
impression obtains that, in the great fundamental principle of our
government, will be found the germ of its dissolution. This war
is waged to establish the right of Secession, and the doctrine
that ' all just governments rest on the consent of the governed.'
With such a precedent, it would be worse than stultification to
object to the secession of any state or states now constituting the
Confederacy, who at a future day may choose to withdraw from
the present compact. Granting our independence, which Europe
regards as a foregone conclusion; what assurance have you (say
they, gloating, in anticipation over the prospect) that, so soon
as the common dangers of war, which for a time cemented you so
closely are over, entire disintegration will not ensue, and all your
boasts end in some dozen anarchical pseudo-republics, like those of
South America and Mexico ? Irene, I confess I have a haunting
horror of the influence of demagogues on our future. You know
Sir Robert Walpole once said : ' Patriots are very easily raised.

414 MACARIA; OK,

You have but to refuse an unreasonable request, and up springs
a patriot.' I am afraid that disappointed politicians will sow seeds
of dissension among us."

"That is an evil which our legislators must guard against, by
timely provision. We are now, thank God ! a thoroughly
homogeneous people, with no antagonistic systems of labor
necessitating conflicting interests. As states, we are completely
identified in commerce and agriculture, and no differences need
arise. Purified from all connection with the North, and with no
vestige of the mischievous element of New England Puritanism,
which, like other poisonons Mycelium, springs up pertinaciously
where even a shred is permitted, we can be a prosperous and noble
people. Rather than witness our national corruption through
the thousand influences which have so often degraded people of
vast wealth, I would gladly welcome the iron currency and frugal
public tables of Lycurgus. One possible source of evil has
occurred to me. Unless our planters everywhere become good
agricultural chemists, and by a moderate outlay renew their
lands every year, the planting interest will gradually drift west
ward, in pursuit of fresh fertile fields, and thus leave such of the east
ern states as possess great advantages in the water line to engage
in manufactures of various .kinds. That negro labor is by no
means so profitable in factory as field, seems well established ;
and if this condition of affairs is allowed and encouraged, contra
riety of interests will soon show itself, and demagogues will
climb into place by clamoring for ' protection.7 Heaven preserve
us from following the example of New England and Pennsylvana !
But if free-trade is declared, and our ports are thrown open to all
the markets of the world, except Lincolndom, the evil will be ar
rested. True, Europe has no love for the Confederacy, and we
certainly have as little for trans- Atlantic nations — but the rigid
laws of political economy forge links of amity. If our existence
as a republic depends upon the perpetuity of the institution of
slavery, then, it seems to me, that the aim of our legislators
should be to render us par excellence an agricultural people —
and, with the exception of great national arsenals and workshops,
to discourage home manufactories. I hope, too, for an amendment

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 415

of our constitution, which shall render the members of the cabinet,
and all our foreign ministers, subject entirely to the appointment
of Congress, and the tenure of the latter class of officials for life
or good behaviour, instead of being selected by the President, as
heretofore, for four or six years. To the disgraceful hunt for
office is to be attributed much of the acrimony of party feeling
which characterizes presidential campaigns. When our Presi
dents are selected and supported solely for their intrinsic ability
and nobility of soul, instead of for the places they will confer on
their party, we shall begin to seek out our Cincinnatus and Aratus,
and the premium- for demagogism will be lost. But we have
statesmen among us who must see all these evils, and doubtless
they will arrest them in time. We are paying too high a price
for our freedom to have it stolen from us in future by unscrupulous
political gamesters, who would sacrifice a valuable principle of
government in order to secure a foreign appointment."

" I can not avoid feeling sceptical of the public virtue, when
seasons of prosperity and great wealth succeed these years of trial ;
and of late, in casting the horoscope of our young Confederacy,
I have frequently recalled that fine passage in Montagu's ' Reflec
tions on the Rise'and Fall of Republics :' ' Greece, once the nurse
of arts and sciences, the fruitful mother of philosophers, law-givers,
and heroes, now lies prostrate under the iron yoke of ignorance
and barbarism Carthage, once the mighty, sover
eign of the ocean, and the centre of universal commerce, which
poured the riches of all nations into her lap, now puzzles the in
quisitive traveler in his researches after even the vestiges of her

ruins And Rome, the mistress of the universe,

which once contained whatever was esteemed great or brilliant
in human nature, is now sunk into the ignoble seat of whatever

is esteemed mean and infamous Should Faction

again predominate and succeed in its destructive views, and the
dastardly maxims of luxury and effeminacy universally prevail
amongst, us, .... such, too, will be the fate of Britain ;'
and I may add of the Confederacy — for where are the safeguards
of its public purity ?"

Electra had finished the bandages, and was walking slowly be-

416 MACAEIA ; OR, »

fore the windows, and, without looking up from the lint, which
she was tying into small packages, Irene answered :

" The safeguards will be found in the mothers, wives, and sisters
of our land."

" Ah ! but their hands are tied ; and they walk but a short,
narrow path, from hearthstone to threshold, and back again.
They have, I know, every inclination to exert a restraining influ
ence, but no power to utilize it. Sometimes I almost fear that
the fabled Norse Ragnarok is darkening over this continent.
The monsters, Midgard-Serpent, Fenris, and all have certainly
been unloosed at the North."

"Electra, though we are very properly debarred from the
' tented-field, I have entire confidence that the cause of our coun
try may be advanced, and its good promoted, through the agency
of its daughters ; for, out of the dim historic past come words
of encouragement. Have you forgotten that, when Sparta for
sook the stern and sublime simplicity of her ancient manners,
King Agis found himself unable to accomplish his scheme of
redeeming his degenerate country from avarice and corruption,
until the ladies of Sparta gave their cpnsent and support to the
plan of reform ? Southern women have no desire to usurp legis
lative reins ; their appropriate work consists in moulding the
manners and morals of the nation ; in checking the wild excesses
of fashionable life, and the dangerous spirit of extravagance ; of
reckless expenditure in dress, furniture,- and equipage, which
threatened ruinous results before the declaration of hostilities.
Noble wives, who properly appreciate the responsibility of their
position, should sternly rebuke and frown down the disgraceful
idea, which seems to be gaining ground and favor in our cities,
that married women may, with impunity, seek attentions and
admiration abroad. Married belles and married beaux are not
harmless, nor should they be tolerated in really good society.
Women who so far forget their duties to their homes and hus
bands, and the respect due to public opinion, as to habitually
seek for happiness in the mad whirl of so-called fashionable life,
ignoring household obligations, should be driven from well-bred,
refined circles, to hide their degradation at the firesides they have

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 417

disgraced. That wives should constantly endeavor to cultivate
social graces, and render themselves as fascinating as possible, I
hold their sacred duty ; but beauty should be preserved, and
accomplishments perfected, to bind their husband's hearts more
closely, to make their homes attractive instead of being constant
ly paraded before the world for the unholy purpose of securing
the attentions and adulation of other gentlemen. I do not desire
to see married women recluses ; on the contrary, I believe that
society has imperative claims upon them, which should be prompt
ly met, and faithfully and gracefully discharged. But those de
graded wives, who are never seen with their husbands when they
can avoid it — who are never happy unless riding or walking with
strangers, or receiving their attentions at theatres, concerts, or
parties — are a disgrace to the nation, which they are gradually
demoralizing and corrupting. From the influence of these few
deluded weak libels on our sex, may God preserve our age and
country 1 They are utterly unworthy the noble work which calls
loudly to every true Southern woman. Statesmen are trained up
around the mother's arm-chair, and she can imbue the boy with
lofty sentiments, and inspire him with aims which, years hence,
shall lead him in congressional halls to adhere to principles, to
advance the Truth — though, thereby, votes for the next election
fall away, like stricken leaves in autumn. What time has the
married belle for this holy hearthstone mission ? The conscien
tious, devoted, and patriotic Christian women of a nation are the
safeguards of its liberties and purity."

" All perfectly true, and very encouraging in the abstract ;
but, Irene, how many women do you suppose sit down and ponder
their individual responsibility ?"

" Electra, my friend, are you sure that you do ? Your pro
fession will give you vast influence in forming public taste, and I
hope much from its judicious use. Be careful that you select
only the highest, purest types to offer to your countrymen and
women, when Peace enables us to turn our attention to the great
work of building up a noble school of Southern Art. We want
no feeble, sickly sentimentality, nor yet the sombre austerity

18*

418 MACARIA ; OR,

which seems to pervade your mind, judging from the works you
have shown me."

A slight quiver crossed the mobile features of the artist as she
bit her full lip, and asked :

" What would you pronounce the distinguishing characteristic
of my works ? I saw, yesterday, that you were not fully satisfied."

" A morbid melancholy, which you seem to have fostered ten
derly instead of crushing vigorously. A disposition to dwell upon
the stern and gloomy aspects of the physical world, and to inten
sify and reproduce abnormal and unhappy phases of character.
Your breezy, sunshiny, joyous moods you have kept under lock
and key while in your studio."

" You are right ; but I merely dipped my brush in the colors
of my own life, and if my work is gray, and sad, and shadowy,
it is no fault of mine. One who sits at her easel, listening ever to

" The low footsteps of each coming ill,"

should be pardoned if h.er canvas glows not with gala occasions,
and radiant faces that have never looked beyond the glittering
confines of Aladdin's palace. Remember, the ' lines' did not fall
to me ' in pleasant places/ and it is not strange that I sometimes
paint desert, barren scenes, without grapes of Eshcol or Tokay.
Irene,

" ' . . . Long green days,
Worn bare of grass and sunshine — long calm nights
From which the silken sleeps were fretted out —
• Be witness for me, with no amateur's
Irreverent haste and busy idleness
I've set myself to Art!'"

" I admit the truth of your criticism, and I have struggled
against the spirit which hovers with clouding wings over all that
I do ; but the shadow has not lifted — God knows whether it
ever wilt. Do you recollect, among those fine illustrations of
Poe's works which we examined yesterday, the dim spectral head
and sable pinions brooding mournfully over ' The City in the
Sea V Ah ! its darkening counterpart flits over me. You have
finished your work • come to my room for a few minutes."

They went up stairs together ; and as Electra unlocked and

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 419

bent over a large square trunk, her companion noticed a pecu
liar curl about the liues of the mouth, and a heavy scowl on the
broad bow.

" I want to show you the only bright, shining face I ever
painted."

She unwrapped an oval portrait, placed it on the mantle-piece,
and, stepping back, fixed her gaze on Irene. She saw a tremor
cross the quiet mouth, and for some seconds the sad eyes dwelt
upon the picture as if fascinated.

" It must have been a magnificent portrait of your cousin,
years ago ; but he has changed materially since it was painted.
He looks much older, sterner, now."

" Would you have recognized it under any circumstances ?"

" Yes — anywhere ; if I had stumbled over it in the dusty
crypts of Luxor, or the icy wastes of Siberia. I have never seen
but one head that resembled that, or eyes that were in any de
gree comparable."

" Irene, I value this portrait above everything else save the
original ; and, as I may be called to pass through various perils,

I want you to take care of it for me until I come back to W .

It is a precious trust, which I would be willing to leave in no
hands but yours."

" You forget that, before long, I, too, shall go to Virginia."

" Then pack it away carefully among your old family pictures,
where it will be secure. I left my large and best paintings in
Italy, with aunt Ruth, who promised to preserve and send them
to me as soon as the blockade should be raised."

" What are Mr. Young's views concerning this war ?"

" He utterly abhors the party who inaugurated it, and the
principles upon which it is waged. Says he will not return to
America, at least for the present ; and as soon as he can con
vert his property into 'money, intends to move to the South. He
opposed and regretted Secession until he saw the spirit of the
Lincoln dynasty, and from that time he acknowledged that all
hope of Union or reconstruction was lost. Have you heard any
thing from Harvey since the troubles began ?"

" It is more than a year since I received a line from him. He

420 MACAKIA ; OR,

was then still in the West, but made no allusion to the condition
of the country."

" Irene, I hope to see Russell soon. You were once dear
friends ; have you any message for him — any word of kind re
membrance ?"

One of Irene's hands glided to her side, but she answered,
composedly :

" He knows that he always has my best wishes ; but will ex
pect no message."

On the following day Electra started to Richmond, taking
with her a large supply of hospital stores, which the ladies of
W had contributed.

Eric had proposed to his niece the expediency of selling the
Hill, and becoming an inmate of his snug, tasteful, bachelor
home ; but she firmly refused to consent to this plan : said that
she would spend her life in the house of her birth ; and it was
finally arranged that her uncle should reserve such of the furni
ture as he valued particularly, and offer the residue for sale, with
the pretty cottage, to which he was warmly attached. During
the remainder of autumn Irene was constantly engaged in super
intending work for the soldiers, in providing for several poor
families in whom she was much interested, and in frequent visits
to the plantation, where she found more than enough to occupy
her mind ; and Eric often wondered at the admirable system and
punctuality she displayed — at the grave composure with which
she discharged her daily duties, and the invariable reticence she
observed with regard to her past life.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

" DID you ring, Mas' Eric ?"
" Yes. Has Irene come home ?"
•" Not yet, sir."
" Bring some more wood."

ALTATIS OF SACRIFICE. 421

Owing to the scarcity of coal, the grate had been removed,
and massive brass andirons substituted. John piled them with
oak wood, swept the hearth, and retired. It was a cold evening ;
there had been sleet the night before ; the trees were glittering
with icicles ; but in the afternoon the sky cleared, and a sharp
north-wester promised good weather. Eric drew the sofa nearer
the blazing fire, and laid himself down to rest — waiting im
patiently for the return of his niece, who had been absent since
dinner. The library looked cheerful, comfortable, luxurious.
Irene's pretty work-basket sat on the little mosaic table, close to
the hearth ; and by its side lay a volume of Tennyson opened at
" Locksley Hall," with a half-finished glove which she had been
knitting that morning resting on the page. Upon the low maii-
tle-piece stood two ruby-colored bulb-glasses, containing purple
hyacinths in full bloom ; between them a fluted crystal vase of
perfect white camellias from the green-house ; and in a rich bo-
hemian goblet three early golden crocuses looked out from a mass
of geranium leaves. Bronze busts of Kepler, Herschel, and La
Place crowned the heavy carved bookcases ; the soft, silvery
glow of the lamp fell upon the form of the cripple, wrapped in a
warm plaid dressing-gown, and showed the thin, sharply-cut vis
age of Paragon, who had curled himself lazily on the velvet rug.
The room was very still, save the sound of the crackling fire and
the chirping of the canary, whose cage had been placed on one
of the broad window-sills. After a tune, the door opened and
the mistress came in.

*' Irene I you must be nearly frozen. What kept you out so
late ?"

" I had more than usual to attend to at the Asylum this
afternoon."

" "What was the matter ?"

11 We have a new Matron, and I was particularly anxious that
she should start right in one or two respects. I waited, too,
in order to see the children at supper, and satisfy myself about
the cooking."

" How many orphans are there in the Asylum ?"

" Thirty-four. I admitted two this evening — children of

MACAEIA ; OK,

one of our soldiers, who died from a wound received at Lees-
burg."

" Poor little things ! I am afraid you will find numbers of
similar instances before this war is at an end."

" We will try to find room for all such cases. The building
will accommodate one hundred."

. " You must be very cold ; I will make John bring you a
glass of wine."

" Xo, sir ; I- do not need it. My shawl was thick and
warm."

Resting his elbow on the silken cushions, her uncle leaned for
ward so as to see her countenance distinctly. She had put out
one hand on the shining head of her dog, who now sat close to
her chair, gazing solemnly into the red coals ; and her posture,
as she rested far back against the morocco lining, betokened
weariness. By contrast with the thick folds of her bombazine
dress, the face gleamed singularly white, and the curling brown
lashes made friugy shadows on the polished cheeks.

II Irene."

She turned her head slightly, and raised her eyes.

" Did you receive a letter which I sent to your room ?"

"'Yes, sir. It was from Dr. Arnold."

" He has established himself in Richmond."

" Yes, sir : his recent attack of rheumatism unfitted him for
service in the field."

" I had a letter from Colonel Aubrey to-day. He wants to
buy my house."

She made no comment, and her eyes drooped again to the
perusal of the strange shapes which danced and flickered on the
burnished andirons.

" What use do you suppose he has for it ?"

II 1 cannot imagine, unless he intends it as a home for Electra."
" What a witch you are at guessing ; that is exactly it. He

says, in this letter, that he may not survive the war, and wishes
to have the assurance that his cousin is comfortably provided for
before he goes into another battle. His offer is liberal, and I
shall accept it."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 423

" Well, I am glad she will own it — for I have often heard her
speak of those old poplar trees in the front yard. She has
always admired the place."

" I trust Aubrey will come back safely, marry some woman
worthy of his heart and intellect, and live there happily himself. '
Do you believe the current report that he is engaged to Salome T'

" No, sir."

" Why not ? She is certainly a brilliant girl, and an undoubt
ed beauty."

" Such a temperament as hers would scarcely suit him, I
think."

" But people often select their opposites."

" And for that reason I suspect that she would not make him
happy. What a glowing beauty she is ? As. I went to the
Asylum I saw her riding with some gentlemen, and I felt as if I
could warm my lingers by holding them near her burning cheeks.
Such complexions as hers are very rare at the South."

" I should not wonder if Russell married her, after all."

He hoped for some change of countenance implying concern,
but no shadow hovered over the fair face. There was no uneasy
movement of the dimpled hand which lay on Paragon's head, nor
could he detect the faintest indication of interest. At this junc
ture the tea-bell summoned them to the dining-room, and she al
lowed her uncle no opportunity of renewing the conversation.
When the meal was concluded, and they had returned to the
library, Irene drew her table and basket near the lamp, and re
sumed her knitting. The invalid frowned, and asked, impa
tiently :

" Can't you buy as many of those coarse things as you want,
without toiling night and day V"

" In the first place, I do not toil ; knitting is purely mechan
ical, very easy, and I like it. In the second place, I can not buy
them, and our men need them when they are standing guard. It
is cold work holding a musket in the open air, such weather as
this." '

He looked annoyed, and dived deeper among his cushions.

" Don't you feel as well as usual this evening, uncle Eric ?"

424 MACARIA ; OK,

"Oh I I am well enough — but I hate the everlasting motion
of those steel needles."

She. rolled up the glove, put it in her basket, and rose.

*" Shall I read to you ? Or, how would you like a game of
chess ?"

"I do not expect you to humor my whims. Above all things,
my child, I dread the thought of becoming troublesome to you."

" You can never be that, uncle Eric ; and I shall always be
glad if you will tell me how I can make your time pass more
pleasantly. I know this house must seem gloomy enough at best.
Let us try a game of chess ; we have not played since you came
from Europe."

She brought the board, and they sat down to the most quiet
and absorbing of all games. Both played well, and when Eric
was finally vanquished, he was surprised to find, from the hands
of the clock, that the game had lasted nearly two hours. As
she carefully replaced the ivory combatants in their box, Irene
said :

" Uncle, you know that I have long desired and intended to
go to Richmond, but various circumstances combined to keep me
at home. I felt that I had duties here whieh must first be dis
charged ; now the time has come when I can accomplish my
long-cherished glan. Dr. Arnold has taken charge of the hospi
tal in Richmond which was established with the money we sent

from W for the relief of our regiments. Mrs. Campbell

is about to be installed as Matron, and I have to-day decided to
join them. In his letter received this afternoon he orders me not
to come, but I know that he will give me a ward when he- finds
me at his elbow. I am aware that you have always opposed
this project, but I hope, sir, that you will waive your objections,
and go on with me next week."

" It is a strange and unreasonable freak, which, I must say, I
do not approve of. There are plenty of nurses to be hired, who
have more experience, and are every way far more suitable for
such positions."

" Uncle, the men in our armies are not hired to fight our bat
tles ; and the least the women of the land can do is to nurse them

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 425

when sick or wounded. The call is imperative. Mothers and wives
are, in most instances, kept at home ; but I have nothing to bind
me here. I have no ties to prevent me from giving my services in
the only way in which I can aid the cause for which my father
died. I feel it a sacred duty ; and, uncle Eric, it is useless to
argue the matter. I am determined to go at once. Will you
accompany me ?"

" You will kill yourself."

" I could not die in a better cause."

" Is life so worthless, that you would rashly throw it away ?"

" By 'no means. I am able to endure what I undertake."

" Does not one querulous invalid cripple sufficiently exercise
your patience ?"

" ]STo, sir. Beside, I can take care of you in Richmond, as
well as of others, who need me much more."

" What do you propose to do with the house, meantime ?"

" I shall send the horses to the plantation, and take Andrew
with me ; he is an admirable nurse. Martha, also, whom I have
tested on several occasions, can assist me greatly in the hospital.
The other servants I shall leave here. John and Nellie will keep
things in order. I have endeavored to foresee and remove all
obstacles to my departure."

" Ah ! but you have been so delicately nurtured, and the
burden you would take upon yourself is so onorous."

" I have counted the cost."

She laid her hand gently on his whitening hair, and added,
pleadingly :

" Do not oppose me, uncle Eric. I want your sanction in all
that I do. There are only two of us left ; go with me as my
adviser — protector. I could not be happy if you were not with
me."

His eyes filled instantly, and drawing her close to him, he ex
claimed, tremulously :

" My dear Irene ! there is nothing I would not do to make
you happy. Happy I fear you never will be. Ah ! don't smile
and contradict me ; I know the difference between happiness and
resignation. Patience, uncomplaining endurance, never yet stole

426 MAC ARIA; OR,

the garments of joy. I will go with you to Virginia, or anywhere
else that you wish."

" Thank you, uncle Eric. I will try to make you forget the
comforts of home, and give you no reason to regret that you
sacrificed your wishes and judgment to mine. I must not keep
you up any later."

She rang for Willis, and, taking a taper from the stand,
proceeded to light the small lamp which had been placed in
readiness on the table. With its use her uncle had long been
familiar.

" You surely are not going up to that ice-house such a night
as this ? That marble floor will freeze you !"

" I shall not stay long. It is the first clear night we have had
for more than a week, and I can not lose such an opportunity.
The nebula in Orion will show splendidly, and,

" ' The Pleiads rising through the mellow bhade,
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.' "

" What a devotee you are I What a bigot you would have
been five hundred years ago ! What a tireless Rosicrucian you
would have made ! What an indefatigable traveler after my
thic Sangraal ! You very often remind me of an aphorism of
Emerson : ' No man is quite sane ; each has a vein of folly in
his composition, a slight determination of blood to the head, to
make sure of holding him hard to some one point which nature
has token to heart.' "

" I am no more insane than Emerson is orthodox or infallible,
and a mild form of Sabeism ought to be tolerated even in this
age, when it is used as a glittering ladder to God, to purity and
to peace. Here I am continually oppressed with a sense of
desolation ; as I walk these silent rooms, Father ! Father !
is the cry of my lonely soul. But yonder I forget my loss.
In the observatory my griefs slip from me, as did Christian's
burden. I remember only the immeasurable heights and depths,
the infinitude, the grandeur, and the glory of the universe —
and there, as no where else, I can bow myself down, and say,
humbly and truly, ' Not my will, oh, God 1 but thine 1' Good-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 427

night, uncle Eric. Willis, shut Paragon in his house before you
go to sleep."

She wrapped a heavy black shawl around her shoulders, and
taking the lamp went up to the observatory.

The army of the Potomac had fallen back to Yorktown when
Irene reached Richmond ; and the preparations which were being
made for the reception of the wounded gave melancholy premo
nition of impending battles.

Dr. Arnold had been intrusted with the supervision of several
hospitals, but gave special attention to one established with the

funds contributed by the citizens of W , and thither Irene

repaired on the day of her arrival.

In reply to her inquiries, she was directed to a small room,
and found the physician seated at a table, examining a bundle of
papers. He saw only'a form darkening the door-way, and, with
out looking up, called out, gruffly :

" Well, what is it ? What do you want ?"

" A word of welcome."

He sprang to his feet instantly, holding out both hands.

" Dear child ! Queen I God bless you ! How are you ?
Pale as a cloud, and thin as a shadow. What the deuce are you
doing here ? I ordered you to stay at home, did n't I ?"

He had caught her hands eagerly to his lips, and held them
like a vice.

" Home was too dreary. I wanted to see you, to be with you
once more, to work here in your sight, by your direction. Don't
scold and growl at me for coming. Give me a morsel of affec
tion ; oh, Doctor ! I am hungry ! hungry and desolate."

She lifted her sorrow-stricken face to his, and felt his tears fall
thick on her silky hair.

" Dear child 1 I knew how it would be. I wanted to go
to you, but I could not. Irene, don't look so dreary and hope
less ; it wrings my heart to see that expression on your mouth.
You know I am glad to have you, my treasure, my beloved
child. You know that you are the very light of my life. Growl
at you, Queen ! I will see myself hanged first ! Sit down here
by me. Where is Eric ?"

428 MAC ART A ; OR,

" He was much fatigued, and I left him at the hotel."

" You have been ill a long time, Irene, and have kept it from
me. That was not right ; you should have been honest in your
letters. A pretty figure you will cut nursing sick folks ! Work
in my sight, indeed ! If you say work to me again, I will clap
you into a lunatic-asylum and keep you there till the war is over.
Turn your face to the light."

" I am well enough in body ; it is my mind only that is ill at
ease ; my heart only that is sick — sorely sick. Here I shall find
employment, and, I trust, partial forgetfulness. Put me to work
at once ; that will be my best medicine."

" And you really missed me, Queen ?"

" Yes, inexpressibly ; I felt my need of you continually. You
must know how I cling to you now."

Again he drew her little hands to his granite mouth, and seem
ed to muse for a moment.

" Doctor, how is Electra ?"

" Yery well — that is, as well as such an anomalous, volcanic,
torrid character ought to be. At first she puzzled me (and that
is an insult I find it hard to forgive), but finally I found the
clew. She is indefatigable and astonishingly faithful as a nurse ;
does all her duty, and more, which is saying a good deal — for I
am a hard task-master. Are n't you afraid that I will work you
more unmercifully than a Yankee factory-child, or a Cornwall
miner ? See here, Queen ; what do you suppose brought Elec
tra to Richmond ?"

" A desire to render some service to the sick and suffering, and
also to be comparatively near her cousin."

" Precisely ; only the last should be first, and the first last.
Russell is a perverse, ungrateful dog."

As he expected, she glanced up at him, but refrained from
comment.

" Yes, Irene — he is a soulless scamp. Here is his cousin en
tirely devoted to him, loving him above everything else in this
world, and yet he has not even paid her a visit, except in pass
ing through to Yorktown with his command. He might be a
happy man, if he would but open his eyes and see what is as

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 429

plain as the nose OH. my face — which, you must admit, requires
no microscope. She is a gifted woman, and would suit him ex
actly — even better than my salamander, Salome."

A startled, incredulous expression came into Irene's large eyes,
and gradually a look of keen pain settled on her features.

" Aha ! did that idea never occur to you before ?" .

" Never, sir ; and you must be mistaken."

" Why, child ? The fact is patent. You women profess to
be so quick-witted, too, in such matters — I am amazed at your
obtuseness. She idolizes Aubrey."

"It is scarcely strange that she should ; she has no other re
latives near her, and it is natural that she should love her cousin."

" I tell you I know what I say ! she will never love anybody
else as she loves Aubrey. Beside, what is it to you whether he
marries her or not ?"

" I feel attached to her, and want to see her happy."

"As Russell's wife?"

" No, sir. The marriage of cousins was always revolting to
me."

She did not flinch from his glittering gray eye, and her grieved
look deepened.

" Is she here ? Can I see her ?"

" She is not in this building, but I will inform her of your ar
rival. I have become much interested in her. She is a brilliant,
erratic creature, and has a soul ! which can not safely be predi
cated of all the sex, now-aday. Where are you going ?"

" Back to uncle Eric. Will you put me in the same hospital
with Electra and Mrs. Campbell ?"

" I will put you in a strait-jacket ! I promise you that."

Electra was agreeably surprised at the unusual warmth with
which Irene received her, some hours later ; but little suspected
why the lips lingered in their pressure of hers, or understood the
wistful tenderness of the eyes which dwelt so fondly on her face.
The icy wall of reserve had suddenly melted, as if in the breath
of an August noon, and dripped silently down among things long
past. Russell's name was casually mentioned more than once,
and Electra fell asleep that night wholly unconscious that the

430 MACARIA; OR,

torn and crumpled pages of her heart had been thoroughly pe
rused by the woman from whom she was most anxious to con
ceal the truth.

Having engaged a suite of rooms near the hospital, a few days
sufficed for preliminary arrangements, and Irene was installed in
a ward of the building to which she had requested Dr. Arnold
to appoint her.

Thus, by different, by devious thorny paths, two sorrowing
women emerged upon the broad highway of Duty, and, clasping
hands, pressed forward to the divinely-appointed goal — Woman
ly Usefulness.

Only those who have faithfully ministered in a hospital, can
fully appreciate the onerous nature of the burdens thus assumed
— can realize the crushing anxiety, the* sleepless apprehension,
the ceaseless tension of brain and nerve, the gnawing, intolerable
sickness and aching of heart over sufferings which no human
skill can assuage ; and the silent blistering tears which are shed
over corpses of men whose families kneel in far distant homes,
praying God's mercy on dear ones lying at that moment stark
and cold on hospital cots with strangers' hands about the loved
limbs. Ah ! within these mournful penetralia are perpetually
r.ecurring scenes of woe, of resignation, and of sublime endurance,
transcending in pathos aught that fiction ever painted ; and as
the Nation's martyrs drop swiftly down into nameless billowy
graves, that fret the quiet green surface of our broad and sunny
land, the bleeding tendrils of a Nation's sympathy trail athwart
the rude head- stones, and from stern lips come the prophecy :

" Let them slumber !

• No king of Egypt in a pyramid
Is safer from oblivion, though he number
Full seventy cerements for a coverlid.
These Dead be seeds of life, and shall encumber
The sad heart of the land until it loose
The clammy clods and let out the spring growth
In beatic green through every bruise.
Each grave our nationality has pierced
By its own majestic breadth, and fortified
And pinned it deeper to the soil. Forlorn
.Of thanks, be therefore, no one of these graves !"

ALTAKS OF SACEIFICE. 431

Day by day, week after week, those tireless women-watchers
walked the painful round from patient to patient, administering
food and medicine to diseased bodies, and words of hope and en
couragement to souls, who shrank not from the glare, and roar,
and carnage of battle — but shivered and cowered before the dar
ling images which deathless memory called from the peaceful,
happy Past. It was not wonderful that the home-sick sufferers
regarded them with emotions which trenched on adoration, or
that often, when the pale thin faces lighted with a smile of joy
at their approach, Irene and Electra felt that they had a price
less reward.

CHAPTER XXXIY.

" MOTHER, I did not flinch ! They shot the flag out of my
hand, and I bathed it with my blood when I fell on it. Here is
the staff — I held on to the very last. Don't you see it, mother,
all smeared and clotted with blood ?"

Raving with delirium, a light-haired, slender boy of seventeen
summers struggled to 'rise from his cot, and, grasping a corner
of the calico quilt, stretched it toward Irene, who sat a few
yards off, spreading a blister. Laying aside the ointment, she
approached, and took the extended hand.

" Yes, Willie, I see it ; and I know you did your duty. I
will take care of the staff for you ; now go to sleep."

" I can't sleep ; the din of the cannon wakes me. I want to
go home. Mother, why don't you carry me to my own room,
my own bed, where I can see Harry, and hear Jessie sing ?
Help me to my feet, mother ; I promised to make a new flag
staff."

His fair, smooth cheeks were flushed with fever from the
wound received at the battle of Seven Pines, and his beautiful,
dilated eyes gleamed unnaturally, as he gazed appealingly at the
tall form standing at his pillow — an elegant, queenly form, clad

432 MACAEIA; OK,

in mourning vestments, with spotless linen cuffs and collar, and
white muslin apron.

She placed her pearly hand on his hot brow, and bent tender
ly over him.

" Not to-night, Willie. When you are stronger I will carry
you to Harry and Jessie. Now you must try to sleep."

" You'll stay by me, mother, if I shut my eyes ?"

" Yes. I will not leave you."

He smiled contentedly ; and while her cold fingers wandered
soothingly over his forehead, the long lashes fell upon his cheeks,
and in delirious dreaming he muttered on of the conflict and in
cidents of carnage. From his entrance into the hospital he had
fancied her his mother, and she fostered the only illusion which
could gild the fleeting hours of his young life. His deeds of
daring had won honorable mention from the brigade commander,
and Irene had written to his mother, in a distant state, detailing
the circumstances, and urging her to hasten to him. But to
night the symptoms showed that, ere the dawning of another day,
the brave spirit would desert its boyish prison.

" Give me some water, please."

The feeble voice came from an adjoining cot, where lay an
emaciated, wrinkled old man, with gray hah* straying over the
pillows that propped -him into an almost upright posture. She
put the glass to his trembling lips, and, as he drained it, tears
trickled down the furrowed face.

" What distresses you, Mr. Wheeler ? Tell me, won't
you ?"

" I am about to die, and I long so for the face of my wife. If
I could have seen her again, it would not seem so hard. It is
easy to die on the battle-field, and I expected that when I left
home ; but to sicken and die in a hospital, away from my family
and my comrades — oh ! this is bitter 1 bitter ! You have been
kind to me — as gentle and good as my own daughter Mary
could have been — and, if you please, I would like to send some
messages to my people at home. You have written for me
once — will you do it again — and for thft last time ?"

" Certainly, just as often as you like."

ALTAES OF SACRIFICE. 433

She gave him a powerful stimulant ; brought her port-folio to
the side of the cot, and wrote at his dictation.

" Tell my wife I had hoped and prayed to be spared to get
home once more, but it was n't the will of God, and I trust she
will try to bear up like a Christian. I am not afraid to die ; I
have done my duty to my God and to my country ; and though
my heart clings to my dear ones, way down in Mississippi, I
know I am going home to rest. Tell her she must not grieve for
our brave boy, Joe ; he died as a Confederate soldier should. I
buried him where he fell, and we will soon meet where battles and
separation are unknown. I want Mary and her children to live
at home, and if Edward lives through the war, he will provide
for all. I want my watch given to my oldest grandson, Calvin,
as soon as he is of age. I send my love to all, and especially to
my poor sister Emily. I send a kiss to Mary and her children,
and to my dear, dear wife, whom I hope to meet soon in hea
ven. May God bless and preserve them all, for Jesus Christ's
Bake."

His voice was weak and unsteady, and his breathing rapid,
short, labored.

As she folded the letter and closed the port-folio the surgeon
entered, and went slowly from patient to patient — speaking gently
to some, and feeling cautiously at the wrists of others who slept.
At the two last cots he lingered long, and his benevolent face
saddened, as he noted the change that a few hours had wrought.

" Dr. Whitmore, I have been giving Mr. Wheeler strong egg-
nog this afternoon."

" All perfectly right, and let him have the ammonia as often
as his pulse indicates need of it."

He sighed heavily, and she followed him into the passage.

11 After all, Miss Huntingdon, we shall lose them both. I had
such strong hope of young Walton yesterday ; but it is of no use ;
he will not live till morning. Poor fellow ! It is too bad ! too bad 1"

" Can we do nothing more ?"

" Nothing. I have racked my brain, exhausted my remedies.
Wheeler, too, is sinking very rapidly, and you must stimulate
him constantly. These typhoid-pneumonia cases are dishearten-

19

4:34 MACAKIA; OK,

ing. By the way, you are over-taxing your strength. Let me
send Martha down here to relieve you to-night. For forty-eight
hours you have not closed your eyes. Take some rest to-night ;
your presence can do no good now."

" I prefer to remain ; how are the cases up-stairs ?"

" Doing finely, except Moorhouse ; and I have strong faith
in his constitution. I shall sit up with him to-night, to watch
the effect of the veratrum. God bless you, Miss Irene, you
have a melancholy watch before you."

As she returned to her post, Andrew came in with a pitcher
of ice-water ; and after creeping across the room several times,
arranging the covering on the cots, he unrolled his blankets on
the floor, and laid himself down to sleep, within reach of -his
mistress' hand.

It was a long, low, rather narrow room, lined with rows of
cots, which stretched on either side to the door, now left open
to admit free circulation of air. A muffled clock ticked on the
mantle-piece. Two soldiers, who had been permitted to visit
their sick comrades, slumbered heavily — one with head drooped
on his chest, the other with chair tilted against the window-facing,
and dark-bearded face thrown back. The quivering flame of the
candle gleamed fitfully along the line of features — some youthful,
almost childish ; others bearing the impress of accumulated years ;
some crimsoned with fever, others wan and glistening with the
dew of exhaustion ; here a forehead bent and lowering, as in
fancy the sleeper lived over the clash and shock of battle ; and
there a tremulous smile, lighting the stern manly mouth, as the
dreamer heard again the welcome bay of watch-dog on the door
step at home, and saw once more the loved forms of wife and
children springing joyfully from the cheery fireside to meet his
outstretched arms. A few tossed restlessly, and frequent incohe
rent mutterings wandered, waif-like, up and down the room,
sometimes rousing Andrew, who once or twice lifted his head to
listen, and then sank back to slumber.

Before a small pine table, where stood numerous vials, Irene
drew her chair, and leaning forward, opened her pocket-bible,
and rested her head on her hand.

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 435

She heard the painful breathing of the old man, who had fallen
into a heavy stupor, and as she sat reading her hand stole to his
feeble pulse, pausing to count its fluttering. Twice she rose,
administered the stimulants, and renewed the bottles at his feet,
the mustard on his wasted wrists. Taking the skeleton hand in
hers, she chafed it vigorously ; but sixty-three years had worn
away the bonds of flesh, and the soul was near its exodus. Sor
rowfully she watched the sharpening features, which five weeks
of nursing had rendered singularly familiar ; and as she thought
of the aged wife to be widowed, and the daughter orphaned,
memories of her own father's kisses stirred the great depths of
her spirit, and tears gathered in her calm eyes.

" Ha ! ha ! ha ! They will never get to Richmond 1 John
ston is down there — and Longstreet is there — and our regiment is
there ! Johnston is between them and Richmond — ha 1 ha !"

The wounded boy started up, twirling one arm, as if in the act
of cheering, and then fell back, groaning with pain which the
violent effort cost him.

Irene stooped over him, and softly unbuttoning his shirt-collar,
removed the hot bloody cloths from his lacerated shoulder, and
replaced them with fresh folds of linen, cold and dripping. She
poured out a glass of water and lifted his head, but he frowned,
and exclaimed :

" I won't have it in a tumbler. Mother, make Harry bring
me a gourdful fresh from the spring. I say — send Buddie for
some."

She humored the whim, walked out of the room, and paused
in the passage. As she did so, a dark form glided unperceived
into a dim corner, and when she re-entered the room with the
gourd of water the figure passed through the hall-door out into
the night.

11 Here is your gourd, Willie, fresh and cold."

He swallowed the draught eagerly, and his handsome face
wore a touching expression as he smiled and whispered :

" Hush ! Jessie is singing under the old magnolia down by the
spring. Listen 1 ' Fairy Belle 1' We used to sing that in camp ;
but nobody sings like Jessie. So sweet ! so sweet !"

436 MACARIA ; OK,

He set his teeth hard, and shuddered violently ; and taking
his lingers in hers, she found them clinched.

" Andrew 1"

" Here I am, Miss Irene."

" Go up stairs and ask the doctor to come here."

The surgeon came promptly.

" I am afraid he is going into convulsions. What shall I do
for him ?"

" Yes — just what I have been trying to guard against. I
fear nothing will do any good ; but you might try that mixture
which acted like a charm on Leavans."

" Here is the bottle ; how much shall I give ?"

" A spoonful every half hour while the convulsions last. If
he can swallow it ; it can't possibly do any harm, and may ease
his suffering. Poor fellow ! may the vengeance of a righteous
God seek out his murderer ! I would stay here with you; Miss
Huntingdon, if I could render any service. As it is, I am more
needed up-stairs."

The paroxysms were short, but so severe that occasionally she
required Andrew's assistance, to hold the sufferer on his cot, and
as they grew less frequent, she saw that his strength failed
rapidly. Finally he fell into a troubled sleep, with one hand
clutching her arm.

Nearly an hour passed thus, and the nurse knelt softly beside
her charge, and prayed long and fervently that the soul of the
young martyr might find its home with God, and that his far-off
.mourning mother might be strengthened to bear this heavy bur
den of woe. There, in the shadow of death, the woman's spirit
soared far from sin and sorrow, from the stormy shores of Time,
and held holy communion with her Maker — pleading for aid, for
grace, and resignation through the remaining years of her earthly
pilgrimage.

As she knelt with her face up-turned, a soft warm palm was
laid upon her forehead, and a low, sweet, manly voice pronounced
in benediction :

" May the Lord bless you, Irene, and abundantly answer all
your prayers."

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 437

She rose quickly, and put out her disengaged hand.

" Oh, Harvey ! dear friend ! Thank God, I have found you
once more."

He lifted the candle and held it near her face, scanning the
sculptured features ; then stooped and kissed her white cheek.

"I felt that I could not be mistaken. I heard our soldiers
blessing a pale woman in black, with large eyes bluer than sum
mer skies, and hair that shone like rays of a setting-sun ; and I
knew the silent, gentle, tireless watcher, before they told her name.
For many years I have prayed that you might become an instru
ment of good to your fellow-creatures, and to-night I rejoice to
find you, at last, an earnest coworker."

" Where have you been this long time, Harvey ? And how
is it that you wear a Confederate uniform ?"

" I am chaplain in a Texas regiment, and have been with the
army from the beginning of these days of blood. At first it was
a painful step for me ; my affections, my associations, the hal
lowed reminiscences of my boyhood, all linked my heart with
New York. My relatives and friends were there, and I knew
not how many of them I might meet among the war-wolves that
hung in hungry-herds along the borders of the South. Moreover,
I loved and revered the Union — had been taught to regard it a?
the synonyme of national prosperity. Secession I opposed and
regretted at the time as unwise ; but to the dogma of consoli
dated government I could yield no obedience ; and when every
sacred constitutional barrier had been swept away by Lincoln —
when the habeas corpus was abolished, and freedom of speech
and press denied — when the Washington conclave essayed to co
erce freemen, to ' crush Secession' through the agency of the
sword and cannon — then I swore allegiance to the ' Seven
States' where all of republican liberty remained. The fierce and
unholy spirit of the North appalled and disgusted me. I felt
that I could have no connection with a people who madly plunged
into a fratricidal war, who goaded their soldiers to rapine, to the
massacre of women and children, and who left no means untried
to inflict upon the Cotton-States all the unparalleled horrors of a
servile insurrection. The billows of innocent blood which their

4:38 MACARIA; OR,

fury shed, surged between us, as an everlasting gulf. As Ruth
to Naomi, so I turned fondly to the fair free land of my adop
tion and her devoted sons : ' Thy people shall be my people, and
thy God my God. Where thou diest I will die, and there will
I be buried." Though I look upon my mother's face no more
in this world, and for ever resign the consolation of my father's
blessing and my sister's smile, I shall never see New York again.
My step has passed away from the homestead — my shadow from
the dear old hearthstone. Henceforth my home is with the
South ; my hopes and destiny hers ; her sorrows and struggles
mine."

His white, scholarly hands were sunburnt now ; his bronzed
complexion, and long, untrimmed hair and beard gave a grim,
grizzled aspect to the noble face ; and the worn and faded uni
form showed an acquaintance with the positive hardships and ex
posure of an active campaign.

" I expected nothing less from you, my brother. I felt that
our holy cause must claim your sympathy and support ; and I
am proud, and inexpressibly happy, to find yon in our matchless
and devoted army. You were clear to me before ; but, ah, Har
vey I how much dearer now in these dark days of trial, which
you have voluntarily chosen to share, with a young, brave, strug
gling Nation 1"

His eyes dwelt upon her face as she looked gladly at him, and
over her waving hair his hands passed tenderly, as they had
done long years before, when she was an invalid in his father's
house.

" You have found your work, and learned contentment in use
fulness, since that Spring day on which we talked together, in
the shadow of the wild cherry tree. Irene, the peaceful look of
your childhood has come back to your face."

" Yes, thanks to your guidance, I have found employment for
head and hands ; but my heart is not conquered. I have yet to
learn patient, perfect resignation."

" You ought to be grateful and happy for the good you are
accomplishing every day. I hear much of the influence you ex
ert here ; your name is constantly on the lips of many a conval-

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 439

csccnt ; and in the dead of night, in the deep hush of camp, I
have listened to a fervent, tearful petition ascending to the Throne
of Grace from an elderly man, who told me he had not prayed
since his childhood, till you knelt beside his cot here and asked
God to spare his life to his country and his family. Does not
such blessed fruitage content you ?"

" You overrate my services. I try to do my duty ; but such
cases as these two before us discourage me — bow down my
heart."

" I accept the estimate of those of your countrymen over whom
you have watched, and prayed, and toiled. True, it is very mel
ancholy to lose any ; but, in such a mass, we must not expect
to save all. With my face pressed against the window-pane, I
have been watching you for more than an hour — ever since Col.
Aubrey came out — and I know all the sadness of the circum
stances that surround you ; how painful it is for you to .see those
two men die."

" Col. Aubrey ? He has not been here."

" Yes ; I passed him on the steps ; we rode up together from
camp. He came on special business, and returns at daylight ;
but I shall remain several days, and hope to be with you as much
as the nature of your engagements will permit. Aubrey is from
W— — — ; you know him, of course ?"

"Yes, I kuow him."

He saw a shade of regret drift over her countenance, and
added :

" I have many things to say to you, and much to learn con
cerning your past ; but this is not the time or place for such in
terchange of thought and feeling. To-morrow we will talk ; to
night I could not repress my impatience to see you, though but
for a few moments."

They had conversed in low, smothered tones, and now, gently
unclasping young Walton's fingers, which still grasped her arm,
Irene went back to the old man's pillow and bent over the ghast
ly face, where the chill of death had already settled.

" Feel how thready and feeble the pulse is ; a few more throbs,
and the heart will be stilled. It is hard, hard to see him die,

440

after all my care and watching. Five long weeks I have nursed
him, and now this is the end. Harvey, pray for the departing
soul, that, through Christ, his salvation may be sure."

The chaplain bowed his head, but no sound broke the sad si
lence ; and some moments after Irene laid her ivory fingers on
the lids, and pressed them down over the glazed eyes.

" He is at rest. * Whosoever belie veth in me shall never die,
saith the Lord. He believed, and that comforts me. I have
talked and read much to him during his illness, and found that
he had no fear of eternity. Another patriot gone — another soul
to bear witness before God against our oppressors and murder
ers."

She drew the sheet over the face of the dead, and beckoning
to the two soldiers who now stood near, silent and awe-struck,
they took up the cot, and bore it into a small room adjoining.

" Ah, Irene 1 how harrowing such frequent spectacles must
be. I should think this position would be almost intolerable to
one of your keen sympathies."

" How harrowing, only God knows."

She drew a chair near young Walton, and seating herself, con
tinued :

" It would be intolerable, but for the conviction that I some
times save lives — lives precious to friends and country. Hard
as that case may seem, this is sadder still. That old man had
but few years left at best ; this boy stands on the verge of man
hood, with the fair green meadows of life stretching dewy and
untrodden before him, enamelled with hope, and bounded by
shining peaks, which his brave, ambitious spirit panted to scale.
A mother's pride and solace, a sister's joy, one of a Nation's
treasured guardians, stricken down in his first battle — bathing
his country's riddled banner in his warm young blood. How
long — how long will Almighty God withhold his vengeance from
the wolfish hordes who are battening upon the blood of freemen ?
Harvey, if there be not a long and awful retribution for that
Cain-cursed race of New England, there is neither justice nor
truth in high heaven. I have become strangely attached to this
boy. He mistakes me for his mother, follows me eagerly with

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE.

his eyes, clings to my dress, fondles my hands. Around his neck
is suspended a locket containing her miniature ; and yesterday,
when I dressed his wound, he felt for it — showed me how he
kissed it before going into battle — believing that it would prove
a talisman. What harm could befall, with his mother's face over
his heart ? Only a private in the ranks. No stars and bars to
deck his homespun jacket — no official pomp and glittering para
phernalia to please his youthful fancy — none of the gorgeous ac
cessories which gild the ' stern profession/ like jewels on a corpse
— no badge of distinction, save his ghastly death-wound. The
tenderly nurtured darling of Southern parents, cheerful in the
midst of unparalleled hardships, content with meagre rations, which
his negroes at home would scornfully reject, standing dreary watch
in snow and sleet and rain, with memories of luxury and fireside
joys tempting him from his gloomy, solitary post — springing to
meet the columns of the foe as though the Nation's fate depend
ed upon his individual valor, and asking but a grave on the soil
he died defending. Only a private in the ranks I Oh, to this
consecrated legion, stretching like a wall of flesh along the bor
ders of our land, what a measureless debt we owe ! When In
dependence is obtained, and white-robed Peace spreads her stain
less hands in blessing over us, let history proclaim, and let our
people reverently remember, that to the uncomplaining fortitude
and sublime devotion of the private soldiers of the Confederacy,
not less than to the genius of our generals and the heroism of our
subordinate officers, we are indebted for Freedom.

She laid her head close to the boy's mouth to listen to his low
breathing, and the minister saw her tears fall on his pillow and
gleam on his auburn locks. The delirium seemed to have given
place to the dreamless sleep of exhaustion, and folding one of her
hands around his fingers, with the other she softly stroked the
silky hair from his fair, smooth forehead.

" Irene, will my presence here aid or comfort you ? If so, I
will remain till morning."

" No ; you can do no good. It is midnight now, and you
must be wearied with your long ride. You cannot help me here,

19*

442 MACAKIA; OK,

but to-morrow I shall want you to go with me to the cemetery.
I wish his family to have the sad consolation of knowing that a
minister knelt at his grave, when we laid the young patriot in
his last resting place. Good-by, my brother, till then. Electra
is in the next room ; will you go in and speak to her ?"

" No ; I will see her early in the morning."

He left her to keep alone her solemn vigil ; and through the
remaining hours of that starry June night she stirred not from
the narrow cot — kept her fingers on the sufferer's fleeting pulse
— her eyes on his whitening face. About three o'clock he moan
ed, struggled slightly, and looked intently at her. She gave him
some brandy, and found that he swallowed with great difficulty.

" Willie, are you in pain ?"

"Is it you, mother — and are we at home ?" he asked, indis
tinctly.

" You are going home, Willie ; you will soon be there."

" I have not said my prayers to-night. Mother, hold my
musket a minute."

He put out his arm as if to consign it to her care, and folded
his hands together.

" Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name "

His voice sank to a whisper, inaudible for some seconds ; then
he paused, as if confused ; a troubled look crossed his features,
the hazel eyes filled, and the hands fell powerless on his chest.
Laying her hand on his brow, Irene slowly repeated a favorite
psalm which had seemed to haunt his mind two days before —
that psalm of promise : " The Lord is my Shepherd ; I shall not
want." Whether he understood it now she never knew, but his
fingers crept caressingly to her face, feebly stroking her cheek
while she spoke, and when she concluded he seemed trying to re
call something.

" Jessie knows it all ; I don't " Then came, indistinctly,

snatches of the infant prayer which had been taught him at his
truckle-bed in the nursery.

After a short silence he shivered, and murmured :

" Corporal of the guard I post number nine ! Mother, it is

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 443

cold standing guard to-night, but the relief will soon be round.
Standing guard mother "

His eyes wandered around the dim room, then slowly closed,
as he fell into the sleep that knew no earthly waking.

A sick man a few yards off asked for some water, and as Irene
received the tumbler from his hands he said, under his breath :

" He is worse to-night, is n't he, ma'm ?"

" Yes. How is that pain in your side ? I must put a blister
on it if it grows more severe."

" It does not trouble me as much as it did about dark. How
is my fever ?"

" Not so high by fifteen beats. You will be able to take
quinene at seven o'clock."

She snuffed the candle and resumed her seat, and again silence
reigned — silence broken only by the deep breathing of the pa
tients and the sudden jingle of the vials on the table, as a hun
gry mouse ran among them, to nibble at the open jar of simple
cerate.

The air grew chilly as a light mist gathered along the James,
and finally the rumble of wheels on the paved streets told that
people were beginning to stir in the sleeping city.

Slowly a half-hour rolled away ; Irene could barely feel the
faint pulsation at Willie Walton's wrist, and as she put her ear
to his lips, a long, last shuddering sigh escaped him — the battle
of life was ended. Willie's Relief had come. The young senti
nel passed to his Eternal Rest.

" The picket 's off duty for ever."

Tears dropped on the still face as the nurse cut several locks
of curling hair that clustered round the boyish temples, and took
from the motionless heart the loved picture which had been so
often and so tenderly kissed in the fitful light of camp-fires.
Irene covered the noble head, the fair, handsome features, with
her handkerchief, and, waking Andrew, pointed to the body —
left her own ward, and entered one beyond the passage.

It was smaller, but similar in arrangement to the room where
she had passed the night. A candle was sputtering in its socket,

444 MACARIA ; OK,

and the cold, misty, white dawn stared in at the eastern window
upon rows of cots and unquiet, muttering sleepers. There, in
the centre of the room, with her head bowed on the table, sat,
or rather leaned, Electra, slumbering soundly, with her scarlet
shawl gathered about her shoulders — her watch grasped in one
hand, and the other holding a volume open at " Hesperid-^Egle."
Irene lifted the black curls that partially veiled the flushed
cheek, and whispered :

" Electra, wake up ! I am going home."

"Is it light yet, out of doors ? Ah, yes — I see ! I have
been asleep exactly fifteen minutes — gave the last dose of medi
cine at four o'clock. How are those two men ? I am almost
afraid to ask."

" Dead. Willie lived till daylight. Both dead."

" Oh 1 how sad I how discouraging I I went to your door
twice and looked in, but once you were praying, and the last
time you had your face down on Willie's pillow, and as I could
do nothing, I came back. Dr. Whitmore told me they would
die, and it only made me suffer to look at what I could not re
lieve. I am thankful my cases are all doing well ; that new
prescription has acted magically on Mr. Hadley yonder, who has
pneumonia. Just feel his skin — soft and pleasant as a child's."

" I have some directions to leave with Martha, about giving
quinine before the doctor comes down, and then I shall go home.
Are you ready ?"

" Yes. I have a singular feeling about my temples, and an
oppression when I talk — shouldn't wonder if I have caught
cold."

"Electra, did you see Harvey last night ?"

" No. Where did he come from ?"

" He is chaplain in a regiment near Richmond, and said
he would see us both this morning. Was Russell here last
night ?"

"Russell? No. Why do you ask? Is he in the city?"
Have you seen him ?"

She rose quickly, laid her hand on Irene's, and looked search-
ingly at her.

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 445

" I have not seen him, but your cousin Harvey mentioned that
Col. Aubrey came up with him, on some very important errand,
and had but a few hours to remain. I will get my shawl and
join you in five minutes. Electra, you must stay at home and
rest for a day or two ; you are feverish, and worn out with con
stant watching."

CHAPTER XXXY.

" IT is a mercy that she is delirious ; otherwise her unavoidable
excitement and anxiety would probably prove fatal. She is very
ill, of course ; but, with careful nursing, I think you have little
to apprehend. Above all things, Irene, suffer nobody to bolt into
that room with the news — keep her as quiet as possible. I have
perfect confidence in Whitmore's skill ; he will do all that
I could, though I would not leave her if I did not feel it my duty
to hurry to the battle-field. Queen, you look weary ; but it is
not strange, after all that you have passed through."

" Doctor, when will you start ?"

" In twenty minutes."

" Has any intelligence been received this morning ?"

" Nothing but confirmation of last night's news. Hill holds
Mechanicsville, and the enemy have fallen back in the direction
of Powhite Swamp. A general advance will be made all along
our lines to-day, and I must be off. What is the matter?
Surely you are not getting frightened."

" Frightened — Dr. Arnold ? No. I have no fears about the
safety of Richmond ; defeat is not written in Lee's lexicon ;,
but I shudder in view of the precious human hecatombs to be
immolated on yonder hills before McClellan is driven back. No
doubt of victory disquiets me, but the thought of its awful
price."

She shaded her face, and shuddered.

" Cheer up, child. We may make quicker work of it than

446 MACARIA; OK,

you seem to imagine. But suppose reverses should overtake us,
what would you do ?"

".I shall remain here as long as a man or woman is left to
attend to the wounded ; and if — which God forbid ! — our army
should be forced back by overwhelming numbers, I rejoice
to know that the spirit of ' Edinburg after Fodden' will be found
in Richmond. Northern banners shall never flaunt over our
capital, tainting the atmosphere we breathe ; in such dire emer
gency the people are resolved, and we will chant the grand words
of Aytoun, as we gather round our magnificent national pyre.

' 'T were better that in fiery flame the roofs should thunder down,
Than that the foot of foreign foe should trample in the town !

*********
Though the ramparts rock beneath us, and the walls go crashing down,
Though the roar of conflagration bellow o'er the sinking town ;
There is yet one place of shelter, where the foeman cannot come,
Where the summons never sounded, of the trumpet or the drum.
There shall we find rest and refuge, with our dear departed brave ;
And the ashes of the city be our universal grave !'

" I repeat it, Doctor — not the fate of Richmond troubles me —
for I have not a shadow of doubt that God will give us victory ;
but the thought of the lives to be yielded up in its defense. As
a nation, we shall rejoice ; but, ah ! the desolation hovering
over thousands of happy home-circles, ready to swoop down,
darkening peaceful hearthstones for all time. What a burden
of wailing woe this day will bear to the ears of a pitying
God I"

" True, it is an awful reflection ; but we have counted the
cost, and it will not do to repine. Extermination, rather than
submission to their infamous tyranny. Harnpden's immortal
motto has become our own : * Vestigia nulla retrorsum-P But

I must go, Queen. I wish you were safely back in W ,

away from these horrors that so sicken your soul. Child, take
care of yourself. Have you anything more to say ? Talk
fast,"

" I directed Andrew to give Cyrus a small box of cordials,
which I received yesterday from home. You may find use
for it "

ALTAE8 OF SACRIFICE. 44:7

She paused, and her whole face quivered as she laid her clasped
hands on his arm.

" Well — what is it ? Dear child, what moves you so ?"

" Doctor, promise me that if Colonel Aubrey is mortally
wounded you will send instantly for me. I must see him once
more."

Her head went down on her hands, and she trembled as white
asters do in an early autumn gale. Compassionately the old man
drew one arm around her.

" After all, then, you do care for him — despite your life-long
reserve and apparent indifference ? I have suspected as much,
several times, but that imperturbable sphinx-face of yours always
baffled me. My child, you need not droop your head ; he is
worthy of your love ; he is the only man I know whom I would
gladly see you marry. Irene, look up — tell me — did Leonard
know this ? Conscious of your affection for Aubrey, did he doom
you to your lonely lot ?"

"No. My father died in ignorance of what would have
pained and mortified him beyond measure. Knowing him as
well as you do, can you suppose that I would ever have allowed
him to suspect the truth ? I realized my duty and fulfilled it ;
that is the only consolation I have left. It never caused him
one throb of regret, or furnished food for bitteY reflection : and
the debt of respect I owe to his memory shall be as faithfully dis
charged. If Colonel Aubrey lives to enjoy the independence for
which he is fighting — if he should be spared to become a useful,
valued member of society — one of the pure and able statesmen
whom his country will require when these dark days of strife are
ended ; I can be content, though separated from him, and watch
ing his brilliant career afar off. But if he must give his life for
that which he holds dearer still, I ask the privilege of seeing him
again, of being with him in his last moments. This consolation
the brave spirit of my father would not withhold from me, were
communion allowed between living and dead ; this none can have
the right to deny me."

" If such be your stern and melancholy resolution, what hap
piness can the future contain ?"

448 MACARIA ; OK,

" My future holds the hope of promoting God's glory, and of
contributing, as far as one feeble woman can, to the happiness
and weal of her fellow-creatures. I cheat myself with no delu
sive dreams ; I know that my way is, and ever must be, lonely ;
but, putting my trust in Him who never yet withheld strength
and guidance in the hour of need, I say to myself :

" ' 0, pusillanimous Heart, be comforted —
And like a cheerful traveler, take the road,
Singing beside the hedge.' "

The doctor gathered up her hands in his, and said, coax^
iugly—

" May I tell Aubrey all this ? it will, at least, comfort him in
some degree."

" No ; you must tell him nothing. I know what is best for
him, and for me."

" Oh, child ! what harm could come of it ?"

" Ask me no more ; but give me the promise to send a mes
senger, if he should be severely, dangerously wounded."

" I promise that you shall know all as early as possible. If
you receive no tidings, believe that he is uninjured. As yet, his
regiment has not moved forward, but I know not how soon it
may. Heaven preserve you ! my precious child."

He pressed a kiss on the drooped head, and left her to resume
her watch in the darkened room where Electra had been ill with
typhoid-fever for nearly three weeks. It was thought that she
contracted the disease in the crowded hospital ; and when deli
rium ensued, Irene temporarily relinquished her ward to other
nurses, and remained at the boarding-house, in attendance on her
friend. It was a season of unexampled anxiety, yet all was sin
gularly quiet in the beleaguered city. Throughout the Confed
eracy hushed expectancy reigned. Gallant Yicksburg's batteries
barred the Mississippi ; Beauregard and Price, lion-hearted idols
of the West, held the Federal army in Corinth at bay ; Stone
wall Jackson — synonyme of victory — after sweeping like a whirl
wind through the Valley, and scattering the columns that
stealthily crept southward, had arrived at Richmond at the ap

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 449

pointed time. A greater than Serrurier, at a grander than Cas-
tiglone, he gave the signal to begin ; and as a sheet of flame
flashed along the sombre forests of Chickahoniiny, the nation held
its breath, and watched the death-grapple of bannered armies
around its proud young capital. Thank God ! we had no cra
vens there to jeopardize our cause ; the historic cycle had
revolved, and heroic ages dawned again. Neither ancient,
mediaeval, nor modern lore can furnish a parallel for the appaling
panorama of blood and fire which stretched from Mechanicsville
to Westover — for the brilliant Seven Days' conflict, which
converted twenty-six miles of swamp and forest into a vast
necropolis.

During Friday the wounded came slowly in, and at four in the
afternoon the roar of artillery told that the Battle of Gaines Mill
was raging : that the enemy were fighting desperately, behind
entrenchments which none but Confederate soldiers could success
fully have assaulted. Until eight at night the houses trembled
at every report of cannon, and then McClellan's grand army,
crippled and bleeding, dragged itself away, under cover of dark
ness, to the south bank of the Chickahominy. Saturday saw a
temporary lull in the iron storm ; but the wounded continued to
arrive, and the devoted women of the city rose from their knees
to minister to the needs of these numerous sufferers. Sunday
found our troops feeling about the swamps for the retreating foe;
and once more, late in the afternoon, distant thunder resounded
from the severely -contested field of Savage's Station, whence the
enemy again retreated.

On Sabbath morning Irene learned that Russell's command
had joined in the pursuit ; and during that day and night, as the
conflict drifted farther southward, and details became necessarily
more meagre, her anxiety increased. Continually her lips moved
in prayer, as she glided from Electra's silent room to aid in dress
ing the wounds of those who had been disabled for further parti
cipation in the strife ; and, as Monday passed without the receipt
of tidings from Dr. Arnold, she indulged in the hope that Rus
sell would escape uninjured. During Tuesday morning Electra
seemed to have recovered her consciousness, but in the afternoon

450 MACABIA ; OR,

she relapsed into incoherent muttering of " Cynp," " Correggio,"
" Titan's Bella," and " my best, great picture left in Florence."

Irene was sitting at her bedside, rolling bandages, when the
sudden, far-distant, dull boom of cannon, followed by the quick
rattling of the window-panes, gave intimation that the long con
test was fiercely renewed. Prophetic dread seized lier ; the
hideous To-Come scowled at her in the distance ; and, as the roll
of cloth dropped from her fingers, she covered her eyes to shut out
the vision of horror. The long evening hours crept by in mourn
ful procession — trooping phantom-shadows filled the room — night
fell at last, an unheeded flag of truce — and people stood in their
doors, at their windows, many clustered on the pavements, lis
tening in solemn silence to the fiend-like roar of the fifty pieces of
artillery that, like a fiery crescent, crowned Malvern Hill. A.
courier had arrived with intelligence that here the enemy's forces
were very strongly posted, were making desperate resistance ;
and though no doubt of the result was entertained, human nature
groaned over the carnage.

At ten o'clock, having given a potion, and renewed the folds
of wet linen on Electra's head, Irene stole back to the window,
and, turning the shutters, looked down the street. Here and
there an anxious group huddled on the corners, with ears strain
ed to catch every sound, and, while she watched, a horseman
clattered at a hard gallop over the paving-stones, reined up at
the door of the boarding-house, swung himself to the side-walk,
and an instant after the sharp clang of the bell rang startlingly
through the still mansion.

" Oh, my God ! It has come at last 1"

Irene groaned, and leaned heavily against the window-facing ;
and quick steps came up the stairway — Martha entered, and held
out a slip of paper.

" Miss Irene, Cyrus has just brought this."

Her mistress' icy fingers clutched it, and she read :

" Come at once. Aubrey is badly wounded. Cyrus will show
the way.

" HIRAM ARNOLD. ';

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 451

" You arc going to faint, Miss Irene ! Drink some of this
cordial !"

" No. Tell Andrew to go after the carnage as quick as pos
sible, and have it brought here immediately ; and ask uncle Eric
to come to my room at once."

Irene went to her own apartment which adjoined Electra's,
put on her bonnet and veil, and, though the night was warm,
wrapped a shawl about her.

Mr. Mitchell entered soon after, and started at sight of his
niece's face.

" Irene, what does this mean ? Where are you going at this
hour ?"

" To the battle-field !— to Malvern Hill. Colonel Aubrey is
mortally wounded, and I must see him. Will you go with me ?
Oh, uncle Eric ! if you have any mercy in your soul ask me no
questions now 1 only go with me."

" Of course, my dear child, I will go with you, if it is possible
to procure a carriage of any kind. I will see — ."

" I have had one engaged for three days. Martha, stay with
Electra till I come back ; leave her on no account. If you no
tice any change, send for Dr. Whitmore. Here is my watch ;
count her pulse carefully, and as long as it is over one hundred,
give her, every two hours, a spoonful of the medicine in that
square vial on the table. I trust to you, Martha, to take care
of her. If she should be rational, and ask for me, tell her no
thing about the battles, and say I have gone to see a sick man,
and will be back soon. Come, uncle Eric.'7

They entered the close carriage which she had ordered reserved
for her, and she called Cyrus to the door.

" Did you see Colonel Aubrey after he was wounded ?"

" I only had a glimpse of him, as they brought him in. Miss
Irene, he was shot in the breast."

" You know the way ; ride outside ; and, Cyrus, drive as fast
as possible."

The night was gloomy and spectral as Sheol, and the wind
sobbed a miserere through the sombre forests that bordered the
road, which was now crowded with vehicles of all descriptions

452

hastening to and returning from the field of action. Under ordi
nary circumstances, with no obstacles intervening, it was a long
ride ; and to Irene the way seemed interminable. During the
first hour utter silence reigned within the carriage, and then, as
the driver paused to allow an ambulance to pass, Eric put his
hand on his niece's arm and said, tenderly :

" Irene, why did you deceive me so long ? Why could you
not trust your uncle's love ?"

She shrank farther back in one corner, and answered with a
voice which he could scarcely recognize as hers.

" If you love me, spare me all questions now."

By the glimmer of the carriage-lamps she could see the wagons
going to and fro, some filled with empty coffins, some with man
gled sufferers. Now and then weary, spent soldiers sat on the
roadside, or struggled on toward the city which they had saved,
with their arms in slings, or hands bound up, or bloody band
ages across their stern faces. After another hour, when the in
creasing number of men showed proximity to the scene of dan
ger, Cyrus turned away from the beaten track, and soon the
flash of lights and the hum of voices told that they were near
the place of destination. The carriage stopped, and Cyrus came
to the door.

" We are at the lines, and I can't drive any nearer. If you
will wait, I will go and find Master.

It was one o'clock ; and as they waited, men passed and re-
passed with blazing torches, some bearing wounded men, whose
groans rose above the confusion. The cannonading had long
ceased, and Eric called to a group of soldiers belonging to the
Infirmary corps.

" What is the last news from the front ? Have the enemy
fallen back ?"

" Not yet ; but they are getting ready to run again as usual.
By daylight they will be out of sight, and we shall be all day to
morrow hunting them up. Their style is to fight about three
hours, and run the balance of the twenty-four hours. They take
to the swamps like all other such miserable varments."

The delay seemed intolerably long, and for the first time an

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 453

audible moan escaped Irene just as Cyrus came back accom
panied by a muffled figure.

" Irene, my child."

She leaned out till her face nearly touched Dr. Arnold's.

"Only tell me that he is alive, and I can bear all else."

" He is alive, and sleeping just now. Can you control your
self if I take you to him ?"

" Yes ; you need not fear that I will disturb him. Let me
go to him."

He gave her his arm, and led her through the drizzling rain
for some distance — avoiding as much as possible, the groups of
wounded, where surgeons were at their sad work. Finally, be
fore a small tent, he paused, and whispered :

"Nerve yourself, dear child."

" Is there no hope ?"

She swept aside her long mourning veil, and gazed imploringly
into his face.

Tears filled his eyes, and hastily averting his head, he raised
the curtain of the tent and drew her inside.

A candle burned dimly in one corner, and there, on a pallet of
straw, over which a blanket had been thrown, lay the powerful
form of the dauntless leader, whose deeds of desperate daring
had so electrified his worshiping command but a few hours be
fore. The noble head was pillowed on a knapsack j one hand
pressed his heart, while the other drooped nerveless at his side,
and the breast of his coat was saturated with blood, which at in
tervals oozed through the bandages and dripped upon the straw.
The tent was silent as a cemetery, and not a sound passed Irene's
white, fixed lips as she bent down and looked upon the loved
face, strangely beautiful in its pallid repose. The shadowy wings
of the bitter By-gone hovered no longer over the features, dark
ening their chiselled perfection ; a tranquil half-smile parted the
lips, and unbent the lines between the finely-arched black brows.

Sinking softly on the floor of the tent, Irene rested her chin
on her folded hands, and calmly watched the deep sleep. So
passed three-quarters of an hour ; then, as Dr. Arnold cautiously
put his fingers on the pulse, the sufferer opened his eyes.

454:

Irene was partially in the shade, but as she leaned forward, a
sudden, bewildered smile lighted his countenance ; he started up,
and extended one arm.

" Irene I My darling I Do I dream, or are you indeed with
me ?"

" I have come to nurse you, Russell ; but if you do not calm
yourself, the doctor will send me away."

She took the outstretched hand in both of hers, and pressed
her lips repeatedly upon it.

" Come close to me. I am helpless now, and can not go to
you."

She seated herself on the edge of the straw, laid her shawl in
her lap, and lifting his head, rested it on the soft woollen folds.
Dr. Arnold removed the warm cloth .soaked with blood, placed
a cold, dripping towel on the gaping wound, and after tightening
the bandages to check the hemorrhage, passed out of the tent,
leaving the two alone.

" Oh, Irene 1 this is a joy I never hoped for. I went at night to
the hospital in Richmond just to get a glimpse of you — to feast
my eyes with another sight of your dear, dear face ! I watched
you ministering like an angel to sick and wounded soldiers, and
I envied them the touch of your hand — the sound of your voice.
I little expected to die in your arms. This reconciles me to my
fate ; this compensates for all."

Her fingers tenderly smoothed the black locks that clung to
his temples, and bending down she kissed his forehead. His un
injured arm stole up around her neck, drew her face to his, and
his lips pressed hers again and again.

" Dear Russell, you must be quiet, or you will exhaust your
self. Try to sleep — it will refresh, strengthen you."

" Nothing will strengthen me. I have but a short time to
live ; shall I sleep away the opportunity of my last earthly
communion with you, my life-long idol I Oh, Irene ! my beau
tiful treasure ! This proof of your love sweetens death itself.
There have been hours (ever since we parted a year ago) when I
reproached you for the sorrow and pain you sternly meted out to
me, and to yourself. When I said bitterly, if she loved as she

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. ' 455

should, she would level all barriers — she would lay her hands in
mine — glorify niy name by taking it as my wife, and thus defy
and cancel the past. I was selfish in my love ; I wanted you in
my home ; I longed for the soft touch of your fingers, for your
proud, dazzling smile of welcome when the day's work was ended ;
for the privilege of drawing you to my heart, and listening to
your whispered words of encouragement and fond congratulation
on my successes. I knew that this could never be ; that your
veneration for your father's memory would separate us in future,
as in the past ; that my pleadings would not shake your unfor
tunate and erroneous resolution ; and it was hard to give up the
dearest hope that ever brightened a lonely man's life. Now I
know, I feel that your love is strong, deathless as my own,
though long locked deep in your heart. I know it by the anguish
in your face, by the quiver of your mouth, by your presence in
this place of horrors. God comfort and bless you, my own dar
ling ! — my brave, patient, faithful Irene 1"

He smiled triumphantly, and drew her hand caressingly across
his cheek.

" Russell, it is useless now to dwell upon our sorrowful past ;
what suffering our separation has cost me, none but my God can
ever know. To His hands I commit my destiny, and ' He doeth
all things well.' In a little while you will leave me, and then —
oh ! then, I shall be utterly desolate indeed ! But I can bear
loneliness — I can walk my dreary earthly path uncomplainingly,
I can give you up for the sake of my country, if I have the
blessed assurance that you have only hastened home before me,
waiting for me there — that^saved through Christ, we shall soon
meet in Heaven, and spend Eternity together. Oh, Russell ! can
you give me this consolation, without which my future will be
dark indeed ? Have you kept your promise, to live so that you
could at last meet the eyes of your God in peace ?"

" I have. I have struggled against the faults of my character ;
3 have earnestly endeavored to crush the vindictive feelings of
my heart ; and I have conscicnciously tried to do my duty to my
fellow-creatures, to my command, and my country. I have read
the Bible you gave me •; and, dearest, in praying for you, I have

456 MACAKTA; OR,

learned to pray for myself. Through Jesus, I have a sure hope
of happiness beyond the grave. There, though separated in life,
you and I shall be united by death. Oh, Irene ! but for your
earnest piety this precious anticipation might never have been
mine. But for you I would have forgotten my mother's precepts
and my mother's prayers. Through your influence I shall soon
join her, where the fierce waves of earthly trial can lash my proud
soul no more."

" Thank God ! Oh, Russell 1 this takes away the intolerable
bitterness of parting ; this will support me in coming years. I
can brave all things in future."

She saw that a paroxysm of pain had seized him. His brow
wrinkled, and he bit his lips hard, to suppress a groan. Just at
this moment Dr. Arnold re-entered, and immediately after gave
him another potion of morphene.

" Aubrey, you must be quiet, if you would not shorten your
life."

He silently endured his sufferings for some moments, and,
raising his eyes again to Irene's, said, in a tone of exhaustion :

" It is selfish for me to make you witness my torture ; but I
could not bear to have you leave me. There is something I want
to say while I have strength left. How is Electra ?"

" Partially delirious still, but the doctor thinks she will recover.
What shall I tell her for you ?"

" That I loved and remembered her in my dying hour. Kiss
her for me. and tell her I fell where the dead lay thickest, in a
desperate charge on the* enemy's batteries — that none can claim
a nobler, prouder death than mine — rthat the name of Aubrey is
once more glorified — baptized with my blood upon the battle
field. Irene, she is alone in the world ; watch over her and love
her, for my sake. Doctor, give me some water."

As the hemorrhage increased despite their efforts to staunch
it, he became rapidly weaker, and soon after, with one hand
locked in Irene's, he fell asleep.

She sat motionless, supporting his head, uttering no sound,
keeping her eyes fixed on his upturned countenance. Dr. Arnold
went noiselessly in and out, on various errands of mercy ; occa-

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 457

sionally anxious, weather-beaten soldiers softly lifted the curtain
of the tent, gazed sadly, fondly, on the prostrate figure of the be
loved commander, and turned away silently, with tears trickling
down their bronzed faces. Slowly the night waned, and the
shrill tones of reveille told that another day had risen before the
murky sky brightened. Hundreds, who had sprung up at that
call twenty-four hours ago, now lay stiffening in their gore, sleep
ing their last sleep, where neither the sound of fife and drum, nor
the battle-cry of comrades, would ever rouse them from their
final rest before Malvern Hill — over which winds wailed a re
quiem, and trailing, dripping clouds settled like a pall.

The bustle and stir of camp increased as preparations were
made to follow ,the foe, who had again taken up the line of re
treat ; but within the tent unbroken silence reigned. It was ap
parent that Russell was sinking fast, and at eight o'clock he
awoke, looked uneasily around him, and said, feebly :

" What is going on in front ?"

" McClellan has evacuated Malvern Hill, and is in full retreat
toward his gunboats/' answered the doctor.

" Then there will be no more fighting. My shattered regi
ment will rest for a season. Poor fellows ! they did their duty
nobly yesterday. Tell my men for me that I am inexpressibly
proud of their bravery and their daring, and that though my
heart clings fondly to my gallant regiment, I glory in the death I
die — knowing that my soldiers will avenge me. Give my love to
one and all, and tell them, when they next go into battle, to re
member him who led their last charge. I should like to have
seen the end of the struggle-%but Thy will, oh, God 1 not mine."

He lifted his eyes toward Heaven, and for some moments his
lips moved inaudibly in prayer. Gradually a tranquil expression
settled on his features, and as his eyes closed again he murmured,
faintly :

" Irene — darling — raise me a little."

They lifted him, and rested his head against her shoulder.

" Irene 1"

" I am here, Russell ; my arms are around you."

She laid her cheek on his, and listened to catch the words ;

458 MAC ART A ; OK,

but none came. The lips parted once, and a soft, fluttering
breath swept across them. Dr. Arnold put his hand over the
heart — no pulsation greeted him ; and, turning away, the old
man covered his face with his handkerchief.

" Russell, speak to me once more."

There was no sound — no motion. She knew that the soldier's
spirit had soared to the shores of Everlasting Peace, and that
not until she joined him there would the loved tones again make
music in her heart. She tightened her arms around the still
form, and nestled her cheek closer to his, now growing cold.
No burst of grief escaped her, to tell of agony and despair :

" But like a statue solid set,
And moulded in colossal calm,"

she sat, mute and resigned, at the foot of the Red Dripping Al
tar of Patriotism, where lay, in hallowed Sacrifice, her noble,
darling Dead.

In the morning light her face looked rigid, pallid as his, and
the tearless but indescribably mournful eyes were riveted on his
placid, handsome features. Eric and Harvey Young stood in
one corner of the tent, wiping away tears which would not be
restrained ; and finally Dr. Arnold stooped and said, falteringly:

" My dear child, come with me now."

She did not seem to hear him, and he repeated his words, try
ing, at the same time, to unwind her arms.

She yielded, and with her own hands smoothed out and cut a
lock of hair that waved over his gleaming forehead.

Leaning over him, she kissed the icy lips ; then rose, and,
clasping her hands, murmured :

" Farewell, my own brave Russell !"

The minister approached, and stood before her. She lifted her
wan, dry face, and, as she put out her arms to him, a wintry
smile flitted over the mouth that had seemed frozen.

" Harvey ! Harvey 1 he was my all ! He was the idol of my
childhood ! and girlhood 1 and womanhood ! Oh ! pray for m«
— that I may be patient and strong in my great desolation."
******

Electra's speedy convalescence repaid the care bestowed upon

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 459

her ; and one afternoon, ten days after quiet had again settled
around the Confederate capital, she insisted on being allowed to
sit up later than usual, protesting that she would no longer be
regarded as an invalid.

" Irene, stand in the light where I can see you fully. How
worn and weary you look 1 I suspect I am regaining my health
at the expense of yours."

" No ; I am as well in body as I could desire ; but, no doubt,
my anxiety has left its traces on my countenance."

She Teaned over Electra's chair, and stroked back the artist's
shining hair.

" I wish you would let me see the papers. My eyes are strong
enough now, and I want to know exactly what has taken place
everywhere during my sickness. It seems to me impossible that
General Lee's army can face McClellan's much longer without
bringing on a battle, and I am so anxious about Russell. If he
should be hurt, of course I must go to him. It is very strange
that he has not written. Are you sure no letters came for me ?"

" There are no letters, I am sure ; but I have a message for
you. I have seen him once since you were taken sick."

" Ah 1 what is it ? He heard that I was ill, and came to see
me, I suppose. When was he here ?"

Irene bent down and kissed her companion tremulously, saying,
slowly :

" He desired me to kiss you for him. Electra, I have not told
you before because I fea,red the effect upon you in your weak
state ; but there have been desperate battles around Richmond
during your illness, and the Federals have been defeated — driven
back to James river."

" Was Russell wounded ? Yes — I understand it all now I
Where is he ? Oh ! tell me that I may go to him."

She sprang up, but a death-like pallor overspread her face and
she tottered to the open window.

Irene followed the thin figure, and, putting her arms about
her, made her lean against her.

" He was wounded on the last day, and I went to see him ; you
were then delirious."

460

11 Let me go at once I I will not disturb him ; I will control
myself 1 Only let me see him to-day 1"

" Electra, you can not see him. He has gone to his God ;
but in his dying hour he spoke of you fondly, sent love and — ."
The form reeled, drooped, shivered, and fell back insensible
in Irene's arms.

So heavy was the swoon, that it seemed as if her spirit had
fled to join her cousin's in endless union ; but at length conscious
ness returned, and with it came the woful realization of her loss.
A long, low wail rose and fell upon the air, like the £ry from
lips of feeble, suffering, helpless children, and her head sank upon
the shoulder of the sad-faced nurse, whose grief could find no ex
pression in sobs, or moans, or tears.

"Dead ! dead ! and I shall see his dear face no more ! Oh !
why did you not let me die, too ? What is my wretched life
worth now ? One grave might have held us both ! My noble,
peerless Russell ! the light of my solitary life I Oh, God 1 be
merciful 1 take me with my idol ! Take me now 1"

Yery tenderly and caressingly Irene endeavored to soothe her —
detailed the circumstances of her cousin's death, and pointed her
despairing soul to a final reunion.

But no rift appeared in the artist's black sky of sorrow ; she
fcad not yet learned that, in drawing near the hand that holds
the rod, the blow is lightened ; and she bitterly demanded of her
Maker to be released from the burden of life.

" Electra, hush your passionate cries I crush back your rebel
lious words. Your heart knows no depth of agony which mine
has not sounded ; and yet, in this season of anguish, when
Russell is taken from us both, I look upon his grave, and feel
that,

" ' • ' . I am strong

Knowing ye are not lost, for aye among

The hills, with last year's thrush. God keeps a niche

In Heaven to hold our idols : and albeit

He brake them to our faces, and denied

That our close kisses should impair their white,

I know we shall behold them raised, complete,

The dust swept from their beauty — glorified

New Memnons singing in the great God-light !' "

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 461

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE sunlight of a warm spring day flashed through the open
window, and made golden arabesque tracery on the walls, and
portraits of the parlor at Huntingdon Hill. The costly crimson
damask curtains had long since been cut into shirts for the soldiers,
and transported to the Army of Tennessee, and air and sunshine
entered unimpeded. Electra sat before her canvas in this room,
absorbed in the design which now engaged every thought. The
witchery of her profession had woven its spell about her, banishing
for a time the spectral Past.

The extension of the Conscription statute had, several months
before, deprived Irene of a valued and trusty overseer ; and to
satisfy herself concerning the character of his successor, and the
condition of affairs at home, she and her uncle had returned to
W , bringing Electra with them.

Irene stood on the colonnade, leaning over the back of Eric
Mitchell's arm-chair, dropping crumbs for the pigeons that cooed
and scrambled at her feet, and looking dreamily down the avenue
at the band of orphans who had just paid her a visit, and were
returning to the asylum convoyed by the matron.

" What contented-looking, merry little children those are," said
her uncle, watching the small figures diminish as they threaded
the avenue.

" Yes ; they are as happy as orphans possibly can be. I love
to look into their smiling, rosy faces, and feel their dimpled hands
steal timidly in mine. But, uncle, Dr. Arnold has finished his nap,
comfortably at the table, where the doctor was examining a mass
and is waiting for you."

She gave him her arm to the library-door, saw him seated
of papers, then joined Electra in the parlor.

" What progress are you making, Electra ?"

" Very little. I can't work well to-day. Ruskin says that
no artist has fully grasped .or matured his subject who can quit
one portion of it any moment, and proceed to the completion of

462 MACAEIA; OR,

some other part. Doubtless he is correct ; but I am so haunted
by these blue eyes that I can paint nothing else this afternoon.
Do you recognize them ? Yours, Irene. Forgive me ; but I can
find no others, in imagination or in life, that so fully express
serenity. My work has taken marvellous hold upon me ; sleep
ing or waking, it follows, possesses me. I shall not hurry my
self ; I intend that the execution shall be equal to my ideal —
and that ideal entirely worthy of the theme. I want to lay my
' Modern Macaria,' as the first offering of Southern art, upon
my country's altar, as a nucleus around which nobler and grander
pictures, from the hands of my countrymen and women, shall
cluster. In sunny climes like ours, my glorious Art had its birth,
its novitiate, its apotheosis ; and who dare say that future ages
shall not find Art students from all nations pressing, like pilgrims
to the Perfected School of the Southern States ? Ancient re
publics offered premiums, and saw the acme of the arts ; why
not our Confederate republic, when days of national prosperity
dawn upon us ? If the legislature of each state would annually
purchase, for the embellishment of the galleries and grounds of
its capital, the best picture or statue produced within its borders
during the twelvemonths, a generous emulation would be en
couraged. Our marble-hearted land will furnish materials, which
Southern genius can mould into monuments of imperishable
beauty. This war furnishes instances of heroism before which all
other records pale, and our Poets, Sculptors, and Painters have
only to look around them for subjects which Greek or Italian
Art would glorify and immortalize.

" ' I do distrust the poet who discerns
No character or glory in his times,
And trundles back his soul five hundred years.'

Our resources are inexhaustible, our capabilities as a people un
limited, and we require only the fostering influences which Cos
mo De Medici and Nicolo exerted in Florence, to call into action
energies and latent talents of which we are, as yet, scarcely con
scious. Such patrons of Art and Literature I hope to find in
the planters of the Confederacy. They have wealth, leisure, and
every requisite adjunct, and upon them, as a class, must devolve

ALTAKS OF SACRIFICE. 463

this labor-of-love — the accomplishment of an American Renais
sance — the development of the slumbering genius of our land.
Burke has remarked : ' Nobility is a graceful ornament to the
civil order ; it is the Corinthian capital of polished society/
Certainly, Southern planters possess all the elements of this
highest order of social architecture, and upon their correct ap
preciation of the grave responsibility attending their wealth and
influence depends in great degree, our emancipation from the
gross utilitarianism which has hitherto characterized us, and our
progress in refinement and aBsthetic culture. As we are distinct,
socially and politically, from other nations, so let us be, intellect
ually and artistically. The world has turned its back upon us
in our grapple with tyranny ; and, in the hour of our triumph,
let us not forget that, as we won Independence without aid or
sympathy, so we can maintain it in all departments."

" Electra, in order to effect this ' consummation devoutly to
be wished/ it is necessary that the primary branches of Art should
be popularized, and thrown open to the masses. Mill contends,
in his Political Economy, that the remuneration of the peculiar
employments of women is always far below that of employments
of equal skill carried on by men, and he finds an explanation in
the fact that they are overstocked. Hence, in improving the
condition of women, it is advisable to give them the readiest
access to independent industrial pursuits, and extend the circle of
their appropriate occupations. Our Revolution has beggared
thousands, and deprived many of their natural providers ; num
bers of women in the Confederacy will be thrown entirely on
their own resources for maintenance. All can not be mantun/-
makers, milliners or school-teachers ; and in order to open for
them new avenues of support, I have determined to establish in

W , a School of Design for Women — similar in plan,

though more extensive, than that founded some years ago by
Mrs, Peter of Philadelphia. The upper portion of the building
will be arranged for drawing classes, wood-engraving, and the
various branches of Design ; and the lower, corresponding in
size and general appearance, I intend for a circulating library for
our county. Over that School of Design I want you to preside ;

4:64: MACARIA ; OK,

your talents, your education, your devotion to your Art fit you
peculiarly for the position. The salary shall be such as to com
pensate you for your services ; and, when calmer days dawn
upon us, we may be able to secure some very valuable lecturers
among our gentlemen-artists. I have a large lot on the corner
of Pine street and Huntingdon avenue, opposite the court-house,
which will be a fine location for it, and I wish to appropriate it
to this purpose. While you are adorning the interior of the
building, the walls of which are to contain frescoes of some of
the most impressive scenes of our Revolution, I will embellish the
grounds in front, and make them my special charge. I under
stand the cultivation of flowers, though the gift of painting
them is denied me. Yesterday I sold my diamonds for a much
larger amount than I supposed they would command, and this
sum, added to other funds now at my disposal, will enable me to
accomplish the scheme. Dr. Arnold and uncle Eric cordially
approve my plan, will aid me very liberally, and as soon as tran
quillity is restored I shall succeed in erecting the building with
out applying to any one else for assistance. When your picture
is finished, I wish you to make me a copy to be hung up in our
School of Design, that the students may be constantly reminded
of the debt of gratitude we owe our armies. How life-like
your figures grow ; I can almost see the quiver of that wife's
white lips and hear the dismal howling of the dead man's
dog."

The canvas, which she leaned forward to inspect more closely,
contained an allegorical design representing, in the foreground,
.two female figures. One stern, yet noble-featured, crowned with
stars — triumph and exultation flashing in the luminous eyes ; In
dependence, crimson-mantled, grasping the Confederate Banner
of the Cross, whose victorious folds streamed above a captured
battery, where a Federal flag trailed in the dust. At her side
stood white-robed, angelic Peace, with one hand over the touch-
hole of the cannon against which she leaned, and the other ex
tended in benediction. Vividly the faces contrasted — one all
athrob with national pride, beaming with brilliant destiny ; the
other wonderfully serene and holy. In the distance, gleaming in

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 465

the evening light which streamed from the West, tents dotted a
hill-side ; and, intermediate between Peace and the glittering
tents, stretched a torn, stained battle-field, over which the roar
and rush of conflict had just swept, leaving mangled heaps of
dead in attestation of its fury. Among the trampled, bloody-
sheaves of wheat, an aged, infirm Niobe-mother bent in tearless
anguish, pressing her hand upon the pulseless heart of a hand
some boy of sixteen summers, whose yellow locks were dabbled
from his death wound. A few steps farther, a lovely young
Wife, kneeling beside the stalwart, rigid form of her Husband,
whose icy fingers still clutched his broken sword, lifted her wo-
ful, ashen face to Heaven in mute despair, while the fair-browed
infant on the ground beside her dipped its little snowy, dimpled
feet in a pool of its father's blood, and, with tears of terror still
glistening on its cheeks, laughed at the scarlet coloring. Just
beyond these mourners, a girl of surpassing beauty, whose black
hair floated like a sable banner on the breeze, clasped her round
ed arms about her dead patriot Lover, and kept her sad vigil in
voiceless agony — with all of Sparta's stern stoicism in her blanch
ed, stony countenance. And, last of the stricken groups, a faith
ful dog, crouching close to the corpse of an old silver-haired man,
threw back his head and howled in desolation. Neither blue
shadows, nor wreathing, rosy mists, nor golden haze of sunset
glory, softened the sacrificial scene, which showed its grim fea
tures strangely solemn in the weird, fading, crepuscular light.

" How many months do you suppose it will require to com
plete it ?" asked Irene, whose interest in the picture was scarcely
inferior to that of its creator.

" If I work steadily upon it, I can soon finish it ; but if I go
with you to a Tennessee hospital, I must, of course, leave it here
until the war ends. After all, Irene, the joy of success does not
equal that which attends the patient working. Perhaps it is be
cause ' anticipation is the purest part of pleasure.' I love my
work ; no man or woman ever loved it better ; and yet there is
a painful feeling of isolation, of loneliness, which steals over me
sometimes, and chills all my enthusiasm. It is so mournful to

20*

466 » MACARIA; OR,

know that, when the labor is ended, and a new chaplet encircles
my brow, I shall have no one but you to whom I can turn for
sympathy in my triumph. If I feel this so keenly now, how shall
I bear it when the glow of life fades into sober twilight shadows,
and age creeps upon me ?

'"0 my God ! my God !
O supreme Artist, who as sole return
For all the cosmic wonder of Thy work,
Demandest of us just a word — a name,
' My father !' — thou hast knowledge — only thou,
How dreary 't is for women to sit still
On winter nights by solitary fires,
And hear the nations praising them far off,
Too far !' "

She threw down her brush and palette, and, turning toward
her companion, leaned her purplish head against her.

" Electra, it is very true that single women have trials for
which a thoughtless, happy world has little sympathy. But
lonely lives are not necessarily joyless ; they should be, of all
others, mast useful. The head of a household, a wife and mother,
is occupied with family cares and affections — can find little time
for considering the comfort, or contributing to the enjoyment of
any beyond the home-circle. Doubtless she is happier, far hap
pier, than the unmarried woman ; but to the last belongs the
privilege of carrying light and blessings to many firesides — of be
ing the friend and helper of hundreds ; and because she belongs
exclusively to no one, her heart expands to all her suffering fel
low-creatures. In my childhood I always thought of Old Maids
with a sensation of contempt and repulsion ; now I regard those
among them who preserve their natures from cynicism and que-
rulousness, and prove themselves social evangels of mercy, as ail
uncrowned host of martyrs. Electra, remember other words of
the same vigorous, gifted woman whom you so often quote :

" ' And since we needs must hunger — better, for man's love,
Than God's truth ! better, for companion sweet,
Than great convictions ! let us bear our weights,
Preferring dreary hearths to desert souls !'

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 467

" Remember that the woman who dares to live alone, and be
sneered at, is braver, and nobler, and better than she who escapes
both in a loveless marriage. It is true that you and I are very
lonely, and yet our future holds much that is bright. You have
the profession you love so well, and our new School of Design,
to engage your thoughts ; and I a thousand claims on my time
and attention. I have uncle Eric to take care of and to love ;
and Dr. Arnold, who is growing quite infirm, has promised me
that, as soon as he can be spared from the hospitals, he will
make his home with us. When this storm of war has spent it
self, your uncle's family will return from Europe and reside here

with you. Harvey, too, will come to W to live — will

probably take charge of Mr. Campbell's church — and we shall
have the pleasure and benefit of his constant counsel. If I could
see you a member of that church I should be better satisfied —
and you would be happier."

" I would join to-morrow, if thereby I could acquire your sub
lime faith, and strength, and resignation. Oh, Irene I my friend
and comforter ! I want to live differently in future. Once I
was wedded to life and my Art — preeminence in my profession,
fame, was all that I cared to attain ; now I desire to spend my
remaining years so that I may meet Russell beyond the grave.
His death broke the ties that bound me to this world ; I live
now in hope of reunion in God's eternal kingdom. I have been
selfish, and careless, and complaining ; but, oh ! I want to do
my whole duty henceforth. Irene, my calm, sweet, patient guide,
teach me to be more like you."

" Electra, take Christ for your model, instead of an erring hu
man being like yourself, constantly falling short of her own duty.
With Harvey to direct us, we ought to accomplish a world of
good, here in sight of Russell's grave. Cheer up ! God's great
vineyard stretches before us, calling for laborers. Hand in hand,
we will go in and work till evening shades close over us ; then
lift up, in token of our faithfulness, rich, ripe clusters of purple
fruitage. You and I have much to do, during these days of
gloom and national trial — for upon the purity, the devotion, and

468 MACAKIA; OR,

the patriotism of the women of our land, not less than upon the
heroism of our armies, depends our national salvation. To
jealously guard our homes and social circles from the inroads of
corruption, to keep the fires of patriotism burning upon the al
tars of the South, to sustain and encourage those who are wrest
ling along the border for our birthright of freedom, is the conse
crated-work to which we are called ; and beyond this bloody
baptism open vistas of life-long usefulness, when the reign of
wrong and tyranny is ended, when the roar of battle, the blast
of bugle and beat of drum is hushed among our hills, and Peace !
blessed Peace ! again makes her abode in our smiling, flowery
valleys. Hasten the hour, oh ! my God 1 when her white wings
shall hover over us once more !"

The eyes of the artist went back to the stainless robes and
seraphic face of her pictured Peace in the loved " Modern Ma-
caria," and, as she resumed her work, her brow cleared, the coun
tenance kindled as in days of yore, bitter memories hushe^r their
moans and fell asleep at the wizard touch of her profession, and
the stormy, stricken soul found balm and rest in Heaven-appoint
ed Labor.

Standing at the back of Electra's chair, with one hand resting
on her shoulder, Irene raised her holy violet eyes, and looked
through the window toward the cemetery, where glittered a tall

marble shaft which the citizens of TV had erected over

the last quiet resting-place of Russell Aubrey. Sands of Time
were drifting stealthily around the crumbling idols of the morning
of life, levelling and tenderly shrouding the Past, but sorrow left
its softening shadow on the orphan's countenance, and laid its
chastening finger about the lips which meekly murmured : " Thy
will be done." The rays of the setting sun gilded her mourning-
dress, gleamed in the white roses that breathed their perfume in
her rippling hair, and lingered like a benediction on the placid,
pure face of the lonely woman who had survived every earthly
hope : and who, calmly fronting her Altars of Sacrifice, here
dedicated herself anew to the hallowed work of promoting the

ALTARS OF SACRIFICE. 469

happiness and gladdening the paths of all who journeyed with her
down the chequered aisles of Time.

" Rise, woman, rise !
To the peculiar and best altitudes
Of doing good and of enduring ill,
Of comforting for ill, and teaching good,
And reconciling all that ill and good
Unto the patience of a constant hope.
.... Henceforward, rise, aspire,
To all the calms, and magnanimities,
The lofty uses and the noble ends,
The sanctified devotion and full work,
To which thou art elect for evermore !"

THE END.

JOHN BRADBUZN'S LATE PUBLICATIONS.

LIST OF NEW BOOKS

BY

JOHN BRADBURN, PUBLISHER,
(Successor to M. DOOLADY,)

49 WALKER STREET NEW YORK.

M A C A E I A. -

A New Novel, by AUGUSTA J. EVANS, author of
{< BEULAH," " INEZ," etc.

The publisher deems the bare announcement of a new book
by the author of " Beulah," sufficient to ensure the largest
advance orders of any novel of the season.

" MACARIA" is a novel of great power, fully sustaining the
reputation of the author.

The first edition of FIVE THOUSAND is fast passing through
the press, to be followed by others. Orders already received
exhaust our first supply, and Booksellers should send early to
secure first copies.

O\E VOLUME, 12mo. 47O PAGES. PRICE $1 75.

JOHN BRADBURY'S LATE PUBLICATIONS.

BY VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.

This volume, the scene of which is laid in time of the KEVOLUTION, is offered
to the public, with the conviction that it will address itself at once to the
hearts of the American people.

The story opens with the Autumn preceding the Revolutionary War, and
follows it down its long path of seven years' struggle and suffering to that
great victory which crowns them at last.

The whole volume presents a picture of the social, domestic, and religious
life of our fathers and mothers, while one especial charm of the book is its
perfect naturalness.

The heroine, GRACE PALMER, is the ideal woman of the Revolution.

Of the moral tone of the book the publisher need not speak ; the author's
name is an ample assurance of its earnestness and purity of purpose. The
book should find a welcome in every home.

One Volume, 12mo. Clolli. Price SI 5O.

NEW WORK BY CHARLES DICKENS.

OUR MUTUAL FRIEND.

To be completed in Twenty Monthly parts. Now ready, Part I.
Price 25 Cents.

TE BOOK OF BUBBLES;

OE, SECOND BOOK OF NONSENSE.

A Series of sprightly Drawings, with illustrative text. This elegant book
of Drawings, by those eminent artists, DAELEY, HOPPIN, BEARD, CARROLL,
CLINTON, Miss FAY, CURTIS, FISK, and others, leading artists and caricaturista
of the country, will be found entertaining and amusing.

One Volume, handsomely bound in cloth. Price $2 OO.

Having purchased the plates, Mr. BRADBURN will hereafter publish

THE BOOK OF NONSENSE.

By EDWARD LEAR.
A NEW EDITION IS NOW KEADY.

One Volume. Price $1 25.

JOHN BE ABB URN'S LA TU P UBLICA TIONS. 3

t

JOHN BRADBTJRN,

49 WALKER STREET, N. T.,

HAS JUST ISSUED THE FOLLOWING

SUPERB BOOKS.

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

INEZ. A Tale of the Alamo'.

By Augusta J. Evans, author of " Beulali."

One Volume, 12mo., SI 25.

Another Book by the popular author of " Beulah," of which 20,000 have
been sold. ***This charming work was published anonymously a few years
since, but is now re-published uniform with the author's other work.

Btual

OK, THE BLACK PLUME RIFLES.

A NOVEL.
By MRS. MARY A. HOWE.

One Volume, 12mo. Price One Dollar and Twenty-five Cents.

" We have perused the proof-sheets of a very well written and attractive
novel, entitled ' The Rival Volunteers; or, Black Plume Rifles,' a story of the
present war, by Mrs. Mary A. Howe, shortly to be published in New York.
It is artistically constructed and full of dramatic power, and both in style and
incident, a work of uncommon merit, and one calculated to achieve more than
ordinary popularity." — Knickerbocker Monthly.

4 JOHN BRADB VR2TS LATE P UBLICA TIONS.

THREE MONTHS

IN HHE

SOUTHEBN STATES.

APRIL, MAY AND JUNE, 1863.
By LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FREMANTLE.

One Volume, 12rno. Price $1,25

LA GAVIOTA; A Spanish Novel.

We have it on the authority of the Edinburgh Review, that the novels of
this gifted authoress were "published at the expense of the Queen." The
same authority remarks, " hence it might have been foretold, that of the vari
ous kinds of novels, the romantic and descriptive was the least repugnant to
the old Spanish spirit, and that in order for a writer successfully to undertake
such a novel, it would be necessary for him to have a passionate attachment
to the national manners and characteristics, and a corresponding dislike to the
foreign and new ; such are the qualities we find united in Fernan Caballero.''
" La Gaviota is, perhaps, the finest story in the volumes.'1 Its advent is a real
literary event. The most severe critics have dissected this new work, and
have unhesitatingly proclaimed the authoress to be the " SPANISH WALTER
SCOTT." Among the painters of manners, the best, without doubt, are the
Spanish writers. We are certain to find their truth joined to a richness and
piquancy of details, and above all, a spirited tone which singularly heightens
and sets off their recitals.

NEW EDITION.

PE MS.

A CAPTAIN IN THE U. S. NAYY DURING THE
REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

By JOHN HENRY SHE R BURN.
One Volume, 8vo., 408 pages. Price Two Dollars.

JOHN BRADBURN'S LATE PUBLICATIONS. 5

BATTLE FIELDS OF THE
SOUTH.

From Bull Run to Fredericksburg.

With Sketches of Confederate Commanders and Gossip of the Camps. By an
English Combatant, Lieutenant of Artillery on the Field Staff. With Two
Maps. One Volume, Octavo, 550 pages. Price $2 50.

BREAKFAST IN BED; '
or, Philosophy Between the Sheets.

A Series of Indigestible Discourses. By GEORGE AGUSTUS SALA. Author of
" Twice Round the Clpck," " William Hogarth," "The Seven Sons of Mara'
mon," " The Strange Adventures of Captain Dangerous," etc., etc., etc.
In One Volume. 12mo. Price $1 25.

GOOD SOCIETY.

By Mrs. GREY. Author of the " Gambler's Wife," etc.
One Volume, Octavo. Price 50 cents.

" Good Society, in all its various phases, comes in for a complete anatomi
zation at the hands of our Author. That very many of the characters are
sketched from life can admit of no doubt. The dialogue is lively, and the in
teriors are painted with a well-accustomed hand, whether the scene is laid in
the Marquis's mansion, the Squire's hall, the country Parsonage, the Parish
Chapel, or the Lodging-House in Belgravia. Altogether, to our mind, this
surpasses any of the former works of the writer." — United Service Magazine.

" Mrs. Grey writes well and with spirit." — Post.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

By VICTOR HUGO. iGmo., paper. 15 cents.

LEAVES FROM THE DIARY
OF AN ARMY SURGEON.

By Dr. THOMAS T. ELLIS,

Late Post Surgeon, New York, and Acting Medical Director, White
House, Va. 12mo. cloth. Price $1.

THE ACTRESS IN HIGH LIFE ;

Or, an Episode in Winter Quarters.

12mo. Bound in cloth. Price $1 25.

"This exciting novel, from the pen of a South Carolina lady, from its quaint
combination of love and war, is one of the most popular books of the day.—
Chicago Post, May 5tk.

6 JOHN BRADB URN'S LA TE P UBLICA TIONS.

MYSTERIES OF LIFE,

Death and Futurity.

By HORACE WELBY.

One Vol., 12mo. cloth, handsomely printed, with an emblematic Frontispiece.
Price $1 50.

CONTENTS. — Life and Time ; Nature of the Soul ; Spiritual Life ; Mental
Operations ; Belief and Scepticism ; Premature Interment ; Phenomena of
Death ; Sin and Punishment ; The Crucifixion of our Lord ; The End of the
World ; Man after Death ; The Intermediate State ; The Great Resurrection ;
Recognition of the Blessed ; The Day of Judgment ; The Future State, etc.

It is difficult to give any adequate idea of the varied and curious topics of
which this eminently interesting volume treats. It is a valuable array of the
best tnoughts, impressions and beliefs of the most distinguished minds on the
phenomena of Life, Death and Futurity. It is such a common-place book as
some thoughtful divine might have compiled, and in its thousand and one re
ferences to the works and opinions of our best and greatest writers, is scarcely
inferior, as an interesting literal1}' curiosity, to the famous " Anatomy of Mel
ancholy,'1' It is indeed astonishing what a mass of curious facts, anecdotes,
personal traits of character, and notable opinions, are brought together in its
pages ; and with what peculiar and fascinating interest the editor has invested
his themes.

LECTURES ON THE PENTA-
TE UCH.

By Rev. JOHN GUMMING, D.D. Cloth.

MOSES RIGHT AND BISHOP
COLENSO WRONG.

Bound in cloth. Price One Dollar.

" This extraordinary controversial work, by Dr. GUMMING, is having an un-
precedently large circulation ; it is considered the most able work yet written
by the highly reputed author." — New Yorker, May IQlh.

CLARA HOLLINBROOK,

The Beauty of Fairfax ;

OR, THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF AN OFFICER IN THE UNION

ARMY, DURING THE PRESENT WAR.

By Mrs. SARAH A. WRIGHT,

authoress of " The School of Scandal," " Distinguished Lawyer," etc.
Price 25 cents.